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A HISTORY

OF

METHODISM:

COMPRISING

 

A View oF THE Risk oF THIS REVIVAL OF SPIRITUAL RELIGION
IN THE First HALF oF THE KIGHTEENTH CENTURY, AND
OF THE PRINCIPAL AGENTS BY WHOM IT WAS
Promorep 1n Evrorr AND AMERICA "

WITH SOME ACCOUNT OF

The Doctrine and Polity of Episcopal Methodism
tn the United States, and the Means and Manner of its Extension
Down to A.D, 1884.

BY

HOLLAND N. McTYEIRE, D.D.,

One of the Bishops of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South,

ELEVENTH THOUSAND.

PuBLISHING HOUSE OF THE METHODIST EPIscoPaL CHURCH, sours.’
BaxBeE & SMITH, AGENTS, NASHVILLE, TENN. / : :
1898. P
 

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1884,
By THE BOOK AGENTS OF THE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH, SOUTH,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

 
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.

FPXTiIS work was begun at the request of the Centenary Committee, und waa
encouraged by the recommendation, of the College of Bishops, of the Meth-
wlist, Episcopal Church, South.

Mach the larger portion of the volume deals in that wherein all Methodists
agree. J have endeavored to give, along with sketches of the chiéf actors in pre-
paring and carrying forward the great work of God, the truths that were vital
to it, and the type of Christian experience developed by it; also the gradual and
providential evolution of the system, both in doctrine and polity; so that one who
honors the book with a perusal may come to the end, not only with a tolerably clear
anderstanding of the polity and doctrines of Episcopal Methodism, but, what is of
infinitely greater importance, he may obtain some personal knowledge of that way
of salvation which Wesleyans teach.

No one, with proper ideas, ever looked over a life that had been lived, or a
book that had been written, ‘vithout seeing and feeling how it might have been
vettered. In giving this volume to the public I am mindful that the proverb,
“The best is often the enemy of the good,” applies to authorship as well as tc
taany other things. By waiting to realize our highest ideal of excellence, we may
be restrained from making a contribution to religious literature which, however
imperfect, would be of some service. :

Several local histories have been written, and well written, giving account of
tle rise and progress of Methodism in States and Conferences, Of these I have
made mention in the following pages, and, as will be seen, have made use in the
preparation of this more general view of the Church.

Moral or abstract truth knows no point of the compass, but historical truth
does; and the truth of history proves this. Methodism in the South has suffered
iujustice from the manner in which it has been presented by learned, honest, and
tble writers in the North. The writer does not presume to be free from the infirm-
ities to which he is liable in common with others. He proposes to tell the truth
as he sees it; and this may lead him to tell truths affecting others which they
have not seen, and to present admitted facts in a different light.

The reader is advertised that this is not a history of Southern Methodism, but of
Methodism from a Southern point of view. In the South, Methodism was first
aiccessfully planted, and from thence it spread North, and East,and West. If all
the members claimed by all the branches be counted, there is a preponderance of
American Methodism now, as at the beginning, in the South.

Of course I am largely indebted to writers who have gone before, and I make
my acknowledgment unreservedly of such indebtedness, The first part of the
volume treats of matters that have passed through the hands of many writers;
and in various forms of statement these stock subjects have gone into history.
Little more can now be done than to present « judicious compilation from the

(3)
4 Preface.

 

best sources of information; and the reader, who has not access to these or leisura
to consult them, will prefer utility here to originality.

The list of books appended indicates those most consulted, besides biographies
and autobiographies and fugitive sketches contained in newspaper files running
through many years. The Minutes and Journals of General and Annual Confer-
ences from 1773 to the present, the old Disciplines and Magazines and Reviews,
have been chief sources. This method is adopted as more convenient than bur-
dening the margin with foot-notes. When an authority is therein specifically
named it is done nox.nly to show the source of information, if it be questioned
but as a suggestion to the reader to consult the same if fuller information is de-
sired on the subject.

Methodism has been long enough and potent enough in the world to enter into
general history, and materials for its delineation begin now to be found every-
where. But certain writers have wrought in this mine more, and to more advan-
tage, than others. Jesse Lee was the father of our Church history. After him
Dr. Nathan Bangs gathered and compiled richly and industriously, and his
writings, without the graces of style, have a high merit. Dr. Abel Stevens has
brought all under obligations who come after him. His patience and skill in col-
lecting and sifting Methodist history, and the literary style which he has dis-
played, cannot be too much admired. The first wrote when there was no North
and no South in Methodism; the second, when these began to be; the third, wher
they were realities.

On the other side of the Atlantic, the Rev. Luke Tyerman has not only giv-
en a great amount of fresh and readable matter, but has critically worked the life
out of several favorite legends that were passing into fixed history. His manner of
treating some subjects has given offense, justly or unjustly, to a few Wesleyans; but
no writer of Methodist history, since Southey, has so generally (and in his case fa-
vorably) influenced the opinion of the outside world, and given direction to the drift
of secular writers, as Mr. Tyerman. His volumes are a thesaurus. Having accesa
to orignal sources, and the taste and skill for making and combining researches,
and the candor (which, in the opinion of his critics, verges on an affectation, and
therefore an overdoing, of independence) to utter them, he has superseded many
volumes by his own. It is the quality of an Englishman (and if a fault, lean-
ing to virtue’s side) to take his observations of all things in heaven and earth
from his national stand-point. With all his industry in collecting information,
and his skill in presenting it through copious volumes that never weary the read-
er, Mr. Tyerman was so unsatisfactory in his treatment of American Method-
ism, at a material point, that the New York edition of his great work required un
Appendix from an American author (Dr. Stevens) to set the English author right,
and this, the Appendix does thoroughly. If one of Tyerman’s breadth and fair-
ness needs such correction, it is no strange thing if Stevens, Simpson, Porter, Dan-
iels, and others of that latitude, have not always presented Methodism at the other
end of their country in a favorable or acceptable light. It is due to the condi-
tion of astronomers rather than to their disposition that some constellations in
the heavens cannot be viewed from certain stations on the earth’s surface.

It is hoped that this attempt by a Southern writer at a general history of
Methodism may have the result which Jesse Lee sought, as stated in his Pref-
we: “I desire to show to all our societies and friends that the doctrines which
Preface. 5

 

we held and preached in the beginning we have continued to support and main-
tain uniformly to the present day. We have changed the economy and discipline
of our Church at times, as we judged for the benefit and happiness of our preach-
ers and people, and the Lord has wonderfully owned and prospered us. It may
be seen from the following account how the Lord has, from the very small begin-
vings, raised us up to be a great and prosperous people. It is very certain that
the g.odness of our doctrine and discipline, our manner of receiving preachers,
and of sending them into different circuits, and the frequent changes among them
from one circuit to another, have greatly contributed to the promotion of religion,
he increase of our societies, and the happiness of our preachers.” | H. N. M.
Vanderb:lt University, October 1, 1884.

A LIST OF SOME OF THE AUTHORITIES CONSULTED AND USED

A Short History of the Methodists in the United States of America: Jesse Lee. 12mo,
pages 366. Baltimore. 1810.
History of the Methodist Episcopal Church: N. Bangs, D.D. (4 vols.)
Tne Journal of the Rev. John Wesley, A.M.: Edited by John Emory. (2 vols.) 1837.
The Works of the Rev. John Wesley, A.M.: Edited by John Emory. (7 vols.) 1835.
The Life of Rev. John Wesley, A.M.: Coke and Moore. 1792.
The Life of Rev. John Wesley, A.M.: Richard Watson; with Observations on Southey’s
Life of Wesley: Edited by T. O. Summers, D.D. Nashville, 1857.
The Life of Rev. Charles Wesley, M.A.: Thomas Jackson. (New York.)
The Life of Thomas Coke, LL.D.: Samuel Drew. 1817.
The Life of Rev. John Wesley, M.A.: John Whitehead, M.D.
~The Life and Times of Bishop McKendree: Robert Paine, D.D. (2 vols.) Nashville, 1869,
Asbury’s Journal, from 1771 to 1815. (3 vols.)
__- Biographical Sketches of Eminent Itinerant Ministers: Edited by T.O. Summers, D.D. 1858.
The Life of Wesley, and Rise and Progress of Methodism: Robert Southey, LL.D. Amer-
wan edition, with Notes, by D. Curry, D.D. (2 vols.) 1847.
Cyclopedia of Methodism: M. Simpson, D.D., LL.D. 1878.
McClintock and Strong’s Cyclopedia. (10 vols.)
A Hundred Years of Methodism: M. Simpson, D.D., LL.D. 1876.
The Methodist Centennial Year-book: W. H. DePuy, D.D. 1883.
__A Short Manual for Centenary Year, 1884: W. P. Harrison, D.D.
Sketches of Western Methodism: Rev. James B. Finley. 1854.
Life and Times of the Countess of Huntingdon. (2 vols.) 1844,
—History of American Slavery and Methodism from 1780 to 1840: Lucius C. Matlack. 1849.
——The Anti-slavery Struggle and Triumph in the Methodist Episcopal Church: L. C. Matlack,
D.D.; with Introduction by D. D. Whedon, D.D. 1881.
Memoirs and Sermons of Whitefield: By Gillies.
Memorials of the Wesley Family: Rev. George J. Stevenson. 1876.
The Wesley Family: Adam Clarke.
The Wesley Memorial Volume: Edited by J. O. A. Clark, D.D. 1880.
The Life and Times of the Rev. Samuel Wesley, M.A.: Rev. L. Tyerman. 1866.
The Life and Times of the Rev. John Wesley, M.A.: Rev. L.'Tyerman. (3vols.; N.Y.) 2872
The Oxford Methodists: Rev. L. Tyerman. (N. Y.) 1873.
The History of Methodism: Abel Stevens, LL.D. (3 vols.)
The History of the Methodist Episcopal Church in the United States of America: Abe: Ste-
veas, LL.D. (4 vols.)
The History of Wesleyan Methodism: George Smith, F.AS. (London.) 1857.
Methodist Church Property Case: Official, 1851.
American Methodism: M. L. Scudder, D.D, 1867.
Illustrated History of Methodism: Rev. W. H. Danie s, AM. 1880,
«History of Methodism in Tennessee: J. B. McFerrin, D.D. (3 vols.) 1869,
History of Methodism in Georgia and Florida: Rev. George G. Smith. 1877
History of Methodism in South Carolina: A. M. Shipp, D.D. 1883.
6 Preface.

 

—History of Methodism in Kentucky: A. H. Redford, D.D. (8 vols.) 1868,
—History of Methodism in Texas: Rey. H.S. Thrall. 1872,
-Memorials of Methodism in Virginia: W. W. Bennett, D.D. 1871.
-Methodism in Charleston: Rey. F. A. Mood, A.M. 1856.
Canadian Methodism: E. Ryerson, D.D., LL.D. 1882.
Memorials of the Life of Peter Béhler: Rev. J. P. Lockwood. (London.)} 1868.
Memoirs of James Hutton, in Connection with the United Brethren: Daniel Benzarn.
(London.) 1856,
_-~ Annals of Southern Methodism: C. F. Deems, D.D. It is to be regretted that ar y e few
volumes of this convenient and valuable collection have been published.
Wil.iam Watters (the First American Itinerant). A Short Account of bis Christian Hz pe
rience, etc, by himself. (Alexandria, Va.) 1806. ,
Rise and Progress of Methodism in Europe and America: Rey. James Youngs, A.M. (Boa
ton.) 1830. ‘
A Narrative of Events Connected with the Rise and Progress of the Protestant Episcopal
Church in Virginia: Francis L. Hawks. 1836.
Ireland and the Centenary of American Methodism: Rev. W. Crook, D.D. (Dublin.) 1866,
Life and Times of Rev. Wm. Patton: D. R. McAnally, D.D. 1858.
—Life of Bishop Bascom: M. M. Henkle, D.D. 1854,
Life and Times of Rev. Jesse ree: L. M. Lee, D.D. 1848,
Life of Bishop Capers, D.D.: W. M. Wightman, D.D. 1858,
Pioneers, Preachers and People, of the Mississippi Valley: W. H. Milburn, D.D. 1860,
Methodism in its Origin and Economy: James Dixon, D.D. 1848.

Tour in America: James Dixon, D.D. (Third edition.) 1830,

Memoirs of Wesley’s Missionaries to America: Rev. P. P. Sandford. 1843,

Reminiscences of Rev. Henry Boehm: J. B. Wakely, D.D. 1875.

Lost Chapters Recovered from the Early History of American Methodism: J. B. Wakelv

D.D. 1858,
A Comprehensive History of Methodism: James Porter, D.D. 1876.
—Hand-book of Southern Methodism: Rev. P. A. Peterson. , 1883.
Pioneers of Methodism in North Carolina and Virginia: Rev. M. H. Moore. 1884.
~The Disruption of the Methodist Episcopal Church, 1844-1846: E. H. Myers, D.D. 1878

History of the Organization of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. (1845.)

History of the Methodist Protestant Chftrch: A. H. Bassett. (1882.)

Proceedings of the Ecumenical Methodist Conference, held in City Road Chapel, London,
Beptember, 1881. Introduction hy Rev. William Arthur, M.A.; 8vo, pages 632,

he Introduction of Protestantism into Mississippi and the South-west: Rev. J. G. Jones.
1866. The MS. History of Methodism in Mississippi, by the same author, has been kindly
submitted for reference, and found to he very useful. This interesting addition to our denom+
inational literature ought to be published.

The voluminous manuscripts and letters of the late Rev. William Winans, D.D., have beer
loaned the anthor by the kindness of his danghter, Mrs. Mary Winans Wall, of Louisiana.
Dr. Winans, with his own painstaking hand, copied the letters which he wrote, even on ordi-
nary topics, and preserved them. His times and correspondence extended through the most
important periods of our history; and just surprise has heen expressed that so long a time
has elapsed since his death (1857) without any publication, in whole or in part, of his literary
remains. ,

The papers and correspondence of the late Bishop Soule—obligingly furnished by his
danghter, Mrs. Conwell, of Nashville, and his nephew, Rev. Francia A. Soule, of the State of
ew York—have been found valuable, though not extensive.
CONTENTS.

CHAPTER 1.
Shurch Founders—Providential Instruments—The Wesley Family: Its Origin
and Pimesys o:e.ssiesissieses essence eases waar ola’ '@ Siw uwio elarae OO
CHAPTER IL

Moral Condition of England at the Rise of Methodism: Causes of It—Testimony

of Secular and Religious Writers—The Effect of the Methodist Revival on the
Churches; Its Influence on the State........... SiatBaidisiessisvare eo cecccessra~a0.
CHAPTER II.

Home Training—Parsonage Life—John at School—At the University—Awak-
enings—Studying Divinity — Predestination— Difficulties About Assurance—
Ordination s+ ieviso'e-cio:e/o:e 6c sipinreia'acuiawieiovaiaialeseiors dieln sisi ove ccccesceves sda.

CHAPTER IV.

The Fellowship—His Father's Curate—Cutting Off Acquaintances— Charles
Wesley Awakened—The Holy Club—Whitefield and Other Members—Orig-

inal Methodists—What Lack I Yet?.............- miatdrestare once e 4-62,
CHAPTER V.

Breaking up of the Epworth Family—Déath and Widowhood—The Parents—

The Daughters and their History...........2e00- asgiatelessieiaveesciareie'a 000 063-79,
CHAPTER VI.

The Oxford Family Broken up—Glances at the History of its Several Members—
The Georgia Colony—Why the Wesleys went as Missionaries..........71-8%
CHAPTER VII.
Voyage to Georgia—The Moravians—Lessons in a Storm—Reaches Savannah;
- Labors There—The Indians—A Beginning Made—The Wesleys Leave Geor-
GLA So esas ssuéce' Sau o)asorosnieje inia) a1ecd:0: 010 "=ravaroreinvo,ayayoyaconsiapererareidsapozate sac ee eee 4-96,
CHAPTER VIII.
Whitefield: His Conversion and Preaching; Goes to Savannah—Orphan Asylum:
What was Accomplished by this Charity....... oisfoeininieleiersraeia'eie e+ 00e9/-105.
CHAPTER IX.
John Wesley’s Experience; His Reflections—Peter Bohler: His Doctrine and
Life—Conversion of the Two Brothers: Effect Upon their Ministry. .106~122.
CHAPTER X.

Christian Experience: Its Place in Methodism—The Almost Christian—Wesley’s
Conversion; His Testimony—The Witness of the Holy Spirit—The Witness of
Our Own Spirit—Joint Testimony to Adoption...... eo eneccesecsece el Zd—14L

(7)
8 Contents.

 

CHAPTER XI.

Wesley Visits Herrnhut—Experiences of the Brethren—Wesley Returns to
England; Begins His Life-work—Whitefield—The Pentecostal Season—Shut
out of the Churches—The Messengers Let Loose—Field-preaching Inaugu-
Tate oc cccccccucccccncnverneveccereunsee veroesssenenoeare oe. 142-183,

CHAPTER Xi.
Difficulties and Triumphs of Field-preachers—-Bodily Agitations: How Accounted
for—Active Enemies—Lukewarm Friends—The Word Prevails.... 154-164,
CHAPTER XIII.

Charch Building—Titles of Property—The Foundry—Religious Societies—Fetter-
lane—Threats of Excommunication: How. Treated—Separation from the Mora-

vians—Strange Doctrines—Stillness—Means of Grace.......2ee-00+ 165-177.
CHAPTER XIV. :
Lay Preaching: How Begun; Its Necessity and Right—Conservatism Inwrought
into Methodism—Qualification of the “Unlearned” Preacher........ 178-185.
CHAPTER XV.

Whitefield Returns to America—Lays the First Brick of the Orphan-house—An
Old Friend—Concerning the Collection—Success of his Ministry —“ Poor Rich-
ard” Gives the Contents of his Wallet—Separation between Wesiey and White-
field—Painful Facts—Profitable Consequences.........- itawenieeese 186-199.

CHAPTER XVI.

Christian Fellowship Provided for—Bands, Love-feasts, Class-meetings—Origin of
these Means of Grace—The Work Extends—Epworth—Wesley Preaches on
his Father’s Tombstone; Buries his Mother—Newcastle—Cornwall—Discipline
—-First Annual Conference—The Organization Complete........... 200-215.

CHAPTER XVII.

Methodism in Ireland—Friendly Clergy—Hymn-making—Marriage of Charles
Wesley—Education—Kingswood School—Theological and Biblical—Using the
Press—Making and Selling Books—Marriage of John Wesley....... 216-228.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Temporary Decay of Whitefield’s Popularity; Visits Scotland; Third Visit to
America—Morris’s Reading-house in Virginia—Samuel Davies—Commissary
at Charleston tries to Suspend—No Intolerance in that Colony—South Carolina
Unfavorable for This—Whitefield Buys a Plantation—Preaching to Negroes—
Chaplain to Countess of Huntingdon; Among the Great............ 229-240.

CHAPTER XIX.

Ifonorable Women not a Few—The Conversion of a Countess—Her Devotion to
Methodism; Espouses the Calvinistic Side; Her Work—Chapels—Trevecca
College—Dartmouth—Newton—An Archbishop Reproved—Forced out of the
Establishment—Her Death,............. Siaiw wigs svaraieoe.ets a arerstauscersrosere 241-249,

CHAPTER XX.

The Opening in the Colonies—Intolerance in Virginia—Patrick Henry on the Par-
sons—Tobacco—Whitefield’s Sixth Visit—Strawbridge—First Society and First
Methodist Meeting-house in America—Orphan-house—The Founder’s Com-
fort—Whitefield’s Last Visit; his Death; his Will—Hzeunt Ommes....250~260,
Contents. 9

 

CHAPTER XXI.

Arminian Methodism Planted—First Laborers: Strawbridge; Embury; Williams;
King—These Irregulars Occupying the Ground and Preparing the Way—Which
was the First—The Log Meeting-house—The Grave of Strawbridge.. .261-278,

CHAPTER XXII.

The New Circuit—Eight Missionaries Sent to It—What Became of Them—The War
—Asbury Alone Left—The two Blunders—Wesley’s Calm Address... .279-292.

CHAPTER XXIII.

Francis Asbury: His Preparation and Ministry—Troubles of Administration—
Revival in the Old Brunswick Circuit—Devereux Jarratt—The Preachers
Called Our—Watters, Dromgoole, Gatch, Bruce, Ellis, Ware, and their Fellow-
TaDORGYS as’ vis ss:sisieausos.aciceyesecesecsateFeo dass 5 = Sie ee wpigieiniese ae sisinrizovave see. 293-313.

CHAPTER XXIV.

The Question of the Ordinances—Destitution—Clamor of the People for the Sac-
-raments—-Deferred Settlement—Temporary Division—The Concession for
Peace—After Long Waiting—Prospect of Supply.........+e+eeeeee 314-322.

CHAPTER XXV.

Primitive Church Government—Philanthrophy—The Sum of all Villainies—
Book Reviews on Horseback—West India Missions Planted—Christian Per-
fection—A Scheme of Absorption—The Calvinistic Controversy—Fletcher’s
Checks—Deed of Declaration—John Fletcher—Thomas Coke—Ordinations
for-AMCICA vsiiiesencaset ess ees enecaeeseesereaeiarrne ss eete ed 323-344,

CHAPTER XXVI.

The Christmas Conference—Events Before and After—Organization and Church
Extension—Asbury Crossing the Mountains—Methodism Planted on the South-
ern Frontier—on the Western, on the Northern, and in Nova Scotia. . .345-370.

CHAPTER XXVIL.

The Sunday Service—Cokesbury College—Slavery and Emancipation—A New
Term of Communion Proposed—How Received—West India Missions—In-
consistent and Hurtful Legislation—What Methodism has Done for the
NOB O sais sidsianz' a8 cs ada da teers eehisbie Wie Nee Ee eines valde aN eeeES 371-389,

CHAPTER XXVIII.

Wesley’s Request not Complied With—Leaving his Name Off the Minutes—The
Offense and Rebuke—Methodist Episcopacy the First in America—True to
the Primitive Type—Ordinations of Luther and Wesley—Charles Wesley’s
Deaths .'aie-caiassisrccasreteiedraiaiecersieerleine ced CSG 13.5549 be saleceeniesienre 390-401.

CHAPTER XXIX.

The Council: Its Failure—O’Kelley’s Schism—Hammett’s—Charge of Heresy—
General Conference of 1792: Some of its Work— Republican Methodists—Presid-
ing Elders: Their Office and its Duties Defined—John Wesley’s Death .402-419,

CHAPTER XXX.

Jesse Lee Enters New England—Inhospitable Reception—The Difficulties— Cains
a Footing—The Need of Methodism There—Asbury Confirming the Work—
Soule, Fisk, Hedding—Boston Common—Success—Memorial........ 420-436,
10 Contents. |

 

CHAPTER XXXI.

The Valley of the Mississippi: Occupying it—Gate-way to the North-west and
the South-west—Indian Troubles—Asbury Crossing the Wilderness—Bethel
Academy—Kentucky—Tennessee—Three Local Preachers Shaping Ohio—
er aaa Burke, Wilkerson, Page, Tobias Gibson, vacua

OK wid easegpouncasthassigintasers oleitrg a thortuerSipioiebrstevsve Geis o/e/oloe sisi eresw (edie aie everas

CHAPTER XXXII.

Annual Conferences—Boundaries and Powers Established—Locations—Chartered
Fund —Proposal to Strengthen the Episcopacy Fails—Asbury’s Health
Gives Way—Helpers— Whatcoat Consecrated Bishop— McKendree in the
Westie cbcapcsescvsiase atetate aie 0's's siateurareiorstw civiesi@aissivis's ein.t oe s/s wierd ‘eoeeee. 464-480.

CHAPTER XXXII.

William McKendree: His Entrance upon the Ministry; Transferred to the West
—Camp-meetings—Great Revival— Bodily Agitations— Methodism Planted
in Missouri and Illinois; in Mississippi and Louisiana—Philip Cox, Enoch
George, Gwin, Walker, Blackman—Conference in Ohio—Results. ...481-504.

CHAPTER XXXTV.

General Conferences of 1804 and 1808—Demand for a Delegated Body—Camp-
meetings in the East—Prosperity—Bishop Whatcoat’s eth —McKend:se
Elected—Joshua Soule Brings in a Plan for a Delegated General Conference:
Its Defeat; Its Subsequent Adoption—Death of Bishop Coke; His Burial at
Seavaccssaisiewsiusiiswiessie sss § eases euRibgeulodacewen's css meiaees ee 505-519.

CHAPTER XXXV.

Extending the Field in Illinois and Missouri~Winans—Negro Missions—Olin—
McKendree’s New Method of Presiding— Asbury Takes Final Leave of
the Conferences: State of the Western Field on his Departure — Asbury’s
Death .....-0..00- aia iavaHh mein ileis ¥ tras spre 4 es areata Meiarelateleeiarwinnels 2-6 2.8 520-531.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

Canada Methodism: The Planting and the Separation—Clergy Reserves—Ryer-
son—Case—Bangs—Losee—Church Union in the Dominion—New Rules—
Joshua Soule Book Agent—Enoch George and R. R. Roberts elected Bishops
—A Conference down the Mississippi, organized in 1816............ 532-538,

CHAPTER XXXVII.

Difficulties of Planting Methodism in the South-west—Useful Local Preachers and
Laymen—Vick, Bowman, Tooley, Ford, French—From Tombigbee to Attaka-
as—Nolley’s Death—Occupation of New Orleans—Three Conferences—Lasley,
Griffin, Drake, Sellers, Hearn, Hewit, Nixon, Shrock, Owens........ 539-562.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

Missionary and Tract Societies Formed—African Churches Organized—EKducation
—Joshua Soule Resigns an Election—Constitutional Questions—McKendree’s
Position—Methodist Protestants—Soule and Hedding Elected Bishops—Capers
Emory, Waugh, Bascom, Fisk—Canada Methodism set off...........563-575.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

Indian Missions Established—Wyandots, Muskogees, Choctaws, Cherokees, Flat
heads—The Indian Mission Conference—Missions to Negro Slaves—The Begin-
ning and Progress of Plantation Missions: Difficulties of this Work. .576-590
Contents. 11

 

CHAPTER XL.

James O. Andrew—John Emory—Foreign Missions Inaugurated—Liberia—Bra-
zil—Ooxe—Pitts—Education—Colleges: Randolph Macon; La Grange; Dick-
inson; Wilbraham; Madison; Alleghany—John P. Durbin—Thomas A. Morris
—Death of McKendree: Taking Leave of his Brethren............. 591-600,

CHAPTER XLI.

The Struggle and Defeat of Abolitionism in the Church—Presiding Elders in the
Conflict--General Conference Refuses to Change the Discipline—Restates its
Posit .on—Despairing to Accomplish their Purpose, Abolitionists Secede—The
Wesleyan Methodist Church Organized—Peace and Prosperity...... 601-612.

CHAPTER XLII.

Texas Independence—The Republic Open to the Gospel—First Missionaries:
Ruter, Fowler, Alexander—Alexander First and Last in the Field—Arkansas;
Pioneers: William Stephenson, Henry Stevenson—Local Preachers: Alford,
Kinney, Denton, the Orr Brothers—Organization of Texas Conference—Ap-
pointments—Centenary Year—Progress of the Church—General Missionary
Secretaries: Bangs, Capers, AmeS..........eeseceeeee weiaeetves ss 613-617.

CHAPTER XLUI.

The Situation—Abolitionism a Failure in the Church, a Success Outside of it—
Meeting of General Conference in 1844—Proceedings in Bishop Andrew’s
Case—The Griffith Resolution; The Finley Substitute; Drift of Debate; Ex-
tracts from a few Speeches—The Final Vote—The Protest—The Plan of Sep-
ATAtLON 2 swciwae etincateinemdtelnaes 4264 60s oe EKSTRA WER 618-640,

CHAPTER XLIV.

The Louisville Convention—First General Conference—Book Agency—New
Hymn-book— Bishops Capers and Paine—Troubles with the Plan in the
North—Fraternal Delegate and Business Commissioners— Rejected — Ap-
pealing unto Cxsar—Supreme Court Declares the Plan of Separation Valid,
and Enforces it—Southern Methodist Publishing House—Separation—Peace—
Prosperity....... j aibseta lace eeckcsa SiGralv & iene sis a.a'e 4 arararaseicielslaiieieleicnenele .641-651,

CHAPTER XLV.

California—Conference on the Pacific Coast—Foreign Missions—China—General
Conference of 1850—Bishop Bascom: His Death—Bishops Pierce, Early, and
Kavanaugh—Education—The Old Controversy Transferred to the North: How
it Ended—Saved by War from an Impending Disaster............. 652-663.

CHAPTER XLVI.

Civil War: Some of its Effects upon the Church, South—Numbers and Strength
Diminished—Peace Restored—Address of the Bishops—General Conference of
1866—Resuscitation—Legislation—Flourishing Condition of the Church, North,
in the Meantime—Lay Delegation—District Conferences—Constitutional Test
— What Became of the Negro Membership of the Church, South—Foreign
Missions—Education—General Conferences from 1870 to 1882.......664-678.

CHAPTER XLVII.

The Era of Fraternity: Correspondence Anent ie pe oe ates—Joint
Commission at Cape May—Status and Basis Definitely Declared — Property
Claims Adjusted—Ecumenical Conference—City Road Chapel—London Meth-
odists—Centennary Celebration at Baltimore—From 1784 to 1884. ..679-686.

Aprenpix: Methodists Throughout the World— Religious Denominations in
the United States....... Ce Cer Peer rer 687-688,
® GEO. WHITEFIELD £/

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History of METHODISM.

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CHAPTER I.

Church Founders—Providential Instruments—The Wesley Family: Its Origin
and Times.
T was not new doctrine but new life the first Methodists
sought for themselves and for others. To realize in the
hearts and conduct of men the true ideal of Christianity, to main-
tain its personal experience, and to extend it—this was their de-
sign; and their system of government grew up out of this, and
was accordingly shaped by it.
The mission of Luther was to reform a corrupted Christianity;
that of Wesley, to revive a dying one. Lutheranism dealt more
with controversy; Wesleyanism, with experience. The abuses
and errors of Rome, its defiant attitude and oppressive rule, made
combatants of the Reformers. Their prayer was, “Teach my
hands to war, and my fingers to fight.” The Methodists came
forth as evangelists. They persuaded men. With existing insti-
tutions and creeds they had no quarrel. “In their bosoms there
was no rankling grudge against authorities; there was no particle
of that venom which, wherever it lodges, infects and paralyzes
the religious affections.” Their controversy was not with Church
or State authorities, but with sin and Satan; and their one object
-was to save souls.
The way of a Dissenter is to begin by finding fault with others,
“ We begin,” they said, “by finding fault with ourselves.” Meth.
odists never sympathized with those who deny the “form of god-
liness:” it is decent in their eyes and useful, and they cared for
it; but they were more careful to have “the power thereof.”
Whenever the Lord would do a work in the earth, a man is gat
ready; and the study of that man and of his providential prepa-
ration is a fit introduction to the history of the work. St. Paul’s
truism, “For every house is builded by some man,” is not con-
tradicted by what follows—“ but he that built all things is God.”

The word founder grates harshly upon some ears when it is ap-
(13)
14 History of Methodism.

plied to the Church, but ecclesiastical history justifies it. With-
out irreverence, and without derogating from the honor of its
divine Head, men may be called founders of those various sects
by which the Church is seen to exist in the world. Such instru-
ments God has raised up all along the ages, and their livés and
labors have made eras. “The Lord built him a Solomon, that
Solomon might build him a house;” and Solomon’s genius
was seen in every part of the sacred Temple. The Lutheran,
Presbyterian, Congregational, Protestant Episcopal, Moravian,
and Baptist Churches all bear the impress of those master-build-
ers who, under God, shaped their polity, formulated their creeds,
‘and illustrated their spirit.

If the four Gospels show the individuality of their inspired
authors, and the style of the man is seen in the deliverance of
the apostle, we may not be surprised if the character of founders
can be traced in the religious bodies to which they stand thus
providentially related. This admission of the human element is
agreeable to the divine origin and authority of the Church. Its
truths abide, its principles change not, for they are of God; but
the bringing them to bear upon the world, for its salvation, ac-
cording to times and circumstances, is of human devising under
the promise of gracious guidance. Bible doctrines cannot be
increased or diminished; but they may be arranged and pre-
sented with more or less force, clearness, and consistency by the
various schools of religious thought whose nomenclature testifies
to their parentage.

The history of Methodism cannot be given without a biography
of John Wesley. To him belongs the distinction of Founder.
Great men by a natural law come forward in groups; but to in-
sure the success and unity of a movement, there must be a soli-
tary preéminence. While Charles Wesley, George Whitefield,
John Fletcher, and Thomas Coke were mighty auxiliaries, it is
around John Wesley that the religious movement of the eighteenth
century, called Methodism, centers. .He was born June 17, 1703
—the son of Samuel Wesley, rector of Epworth, in Lincolnshire,
England.

The founder of Methodism makes once an allusion to his
“orandfather’s father”— Bartholomew. It was during the
closing years of the long reign of Elizabeth that Bartholomew
Wesley was born—about the year 1600. While at the university

 
The Wesley Family. 15

 

—_—

he applied himself to the study of physic, as well as of divinity;
and the knowledge which he acquired was of great advantage to
him in the dark days of his after-life. In 1640 he was inducted
to the rectory of Charmouth, and in 1650 to that of Catherston;
both of which he held until 1662, when, having espoused the side
of the Puritans, Bartholomew Wesley, like many others, was
driven from his rectories by the Act of Uniformity. After this,
though he preached occasionally, he had to support himself and
his family by the practice of physic.*

At the restoration of the Stuarts in the person of Charles II.
(1661), the High-church party, with king and court on their side,
set about the suppression of Presbyterians, Independents, and
all Non-conformists. The Act of Uniformity was enforced in its
rigor, and upward of two thousand ministers, with their fami-
lies, were ejected from their livings.

A glance at some of the ministers ejected and silenced shows
how this act impoverished the pulpit of that day: Edmund Cala-
my, who studied at the rate of sixteen hours a day, and was one
of the most popular preachers in the capitol; Matthew Pool, who
spent ten years upon his “Synopsis Criticorum,” in five volumes
folio; John Goodwin, the Arminian author of “Redemption
Redeemed;” John Owen, Stephen Charnock, John Flavel; Rich-

 

*The author of “Memorials of the Wesley Family” has gone back of that:
“The father of Bartholomew Wesley was Sir Herbert Westley, of Westleigh, in
the county of Devon. His mother was Elizabeth de Wellesley, of Dangan, in
Ireland. What we have hitherto known of this distinguished family has marked
them as remarkable for learning, piety, poetry, and music. We must now add
these other equally peculiar characteristics, loyalty and chivalry. Taking one
step only backward in tracing their genealogy, we find in both the father and
mother of Bartholomew Wesley persons who were permitted intercourse with the
leading minds of the age, and who were privileged to take an active part in mold-
ing that age in its moral, religious, and social aspects. A knight of the shire
was a person of distinction and influence. The issue of the marriage of Sir Her-
bert and Elizabeth Wesley was three sons, named respectively William, Harphan,
and Bartholomew. The two elder of these appear to have died without issue.
Bartholomew married the daughter of Sir Henry Colley, of Kildare, Ireland. In
person he was of small stature; called ‘the puny parson.’ The average height of
the Wesleys was from five feet four to five feet six inches. Between this limited
range stood Samuel Wesley, rector of Epworth, and his two sons, John and Charles.
The same standard of height characterizes those descendants of the family who
still survive, belonging to the Epworth branch.” And John saysof himself: “In
the year 1769 I weighed one hundred and twenty-two pounds; in the year 1783 T
weighed not a po-nd more nor a pound less.”
16 History of Methodism.

 

ard and Joseph Alleine, whose well-known practical writings have
been blessed to thousands; Richard Baxter, Philip Henry, and
John Howe.

By Act of Uniformity it was provided that “every parson,
vicar, or other minister whatsoever, now enjoying any ecclesias-
tical benefice or promotion, within this realm of England,” who
neglected or refused to declare publicly, before his congregation,
his “unfeigned assent and consent to the use of all things con-
tained and prescribed” in the Book of Common Prayer, before
the feast of St. Bartholomew (1662), should be deprived of his
place. All school-masters who refused to subscribe to this dec-
laration were to suffer three months’ imprisonment. It also
provided that if any minister, not episcopally ordained, should
presume to administer the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper after
St. Bartholomew’s day (August 24), he should, for-every such
offense, forfeit the sum of £100; and if he presumed to lecture
or preach in any church, chapel, or other place of worship what-
ever, within the realm of England, he should suffer three months’
imprisonment in the common jail.

In 1664 the Conventicle Act was passed, which provided that
“every person above sixteen years of age present at any meeting
of more than five persons besides the household, under a pretense
of any exercise of religion, in other manner than is the practice
of the Church of England, shall, for the first offense, be sent to
gaol three months, till he pay a £5 fine; for the second offense,
six months, till he pay a £10 fine; and for the third offense, be
transported to some of the American plantations.” To complete
the triumph of the oppressor, and to deprive both ministers and
people of any comfort, as Non-conformists, Parliament in 1665
added outrage to injury, by passing the execrable Five Mile Act,
which provided that it should be a penal offense for any Non-con-
formist minister to teach in a school, or to come within five miles
(except as a traveler in passing) of any city, borough, or corpo-
rate town, or of any place in which he had preached or taught
since the passing of the Act of Uniformity.

In 1675 the Test Act was passed, which provided that all who
refused to take the oaths and to receive the sacrament, accord-
ing to the rites of the Church of England, should be debarred
from public employment. This was the last turn of the screw.
The Revolution of 1688 dethroned the Stuarts, and the Act of
The Wesley Family. 17

 

Toleration became law in 1689, securing liberty in the worship
of God to Protestant Dissenters.

John, the only son of the ejected Bartholomew Wesley, was
born about the year 1636. Even when a boy at schoo] he had
deep religious convictions and began to keep a diary of “God’s
gracious dealings” with him, which, with slight interruptions,
was continued to the end of his life. At the usual age he was
entered a student of Oxford and became M.A. At one time he
strongly wished to go as a missionary to Maryland, in America.
Probably the expense of such a journey presented difficulties
which he found it impossible to surmount. He was never epis-
copally ordained, but was ordained in the same way as Timothy
—by the laying on of the hands of the presbytery, and possibly
without even that much ceremony. He passed his examination
before Cromwell’s “Triers,’’ and was appointed to a living in
May, 1658. A man of “gifts and grace,” his ministry was the
means of converting sinners in every place in which it was exer-
cised, and he preached in many places. Under the persecutions
that followed the Restoration, he was four times imprisoned, one
imprisonment extending till very near the day when the Act of
Uniformity finally expelled both father and son. He came joy-
fully home, and preached each Lord’s-day till August 17, 1662,
when he delivered his farewell sermon to a weeping audience,
from Acts xx. 32: “And now, brethren, I commend you to God,
and to the word of his grace.” John Wesley died about the age
vi forty-three, and left behind him several sons and daughters.
George, his fourth son, emigrated to America. The faithful
widow survived for half a century.

Dr. A. Clarke calls attention to the fact that the grandfather of
the founder of Methodism was a lay preacher and an itinerant
evangelist. Indeed, we find in this John Wesley’s history an
epitome of the later Methodism. Samuel, his son, was educated
at the Free School at Dorchester. Young Wesley remained here
antil he was a little more than fifteen years of age, when he was
sent to an academy in London, where he continued until he had
nearly arrived at the age of twenty-one. He came into the world
four months after that dark day of St. Bartholomew, when his
father and his grandfather, with two thousand other godly
ministers of Christ, were ejected from their churches and driven

from their homes Like them he was intended for the Christian
9

_
18 History of Methodism.

 

ministry; but, considering the treatment which they had experi-
enced at the hands of the episcopal party, it was scarcely probable
that their youthful descendant would feel a wish to enter the min-
istry of the Established Church. His father and his grandfathers,
though they had all been the occupants of Church livings, were,
so far as prelacy and the use of the liturgy are concerned, Dis-
senters; and his sympathies were with them. He acknowledges
that when at the Dissenters’ School “he was forward enough to
write lampoons and pasquils against Church and State, “was
fired with hopes of suffering;” “and often wished to be brought
before kings and rulers, because he thought what he did was done
for the sake of Christ.” Subsequently, by a course of reading
and reasoning, he was led to change his opinions, and formed
a resolution to renounce the Dissenters and attach himself to
the Established Church.

He lived at that time with his mother and an old aunt, both of
whom were too strongly attached to the Dissenting doctrines to
have borne, with any patience, the disclosure of his design. He
therefore got up early one morning, and, without acquainting
any one with his purpose, set out for Oxford, and entered him-
self at Exeter College. To ride to college was a thing not to ho
thought of : to use his own expression, he “footed it.” His books,
his clothes, and his other luggage, were all probably carried in
a knapsack on his back. Samuel Wesley entered college as a
servitor. A “servitor” is a student who attends and waits on
other scholars or students, and receives, as a compensation, his
maintenance. Such was the position of young Wesley.’ He was
determined to secure the benefits of a university education; and,
in the absence of money and of friends, he became a servant in
order to find himself*bread. There was no disgrace in this; and
yet it is not difficult to imagine that, notwithstanding his clever.
ness, he would be subjected to taunts from beardless youths,
who, in all respects except one, were his inferiors. A young man,
twenty-one years of age, respectably connected, but poor as pov-
erty could make him, he resolved upon the acquisition of aca-
demic fame; and, in the struggle, patiently, if not cheerfully,
submitted to annoyances for the sake of obtaining that upon
which his heart was set. Besides attending to the humiliating
duties of a servitor, he composed exercises for those who had
more money than mind, and gave instructions to others whr
The Wesley Family. 19

 

wished to profit by his lessons; and thus, by toil and frugality,
the fatherless and friendless scholar not only managed to sup-
port himself; but when he retired from Oxford, in 1688, with
B.A. attached to his name, he was seven pounds fifteen shillings
richer than he was when he entered it in 1683. Nor is this all.
Whilst occupied with his daily duties, his benevolent heart
would not permit him to live wholly to himself. He yearned to
oenefit others; and it is a remarkable coincidence that the ob-
jects of his sympathy were of the same class as those who, forty-
five years afterward, were visited and helped by his sons, John
and Charles, and the other Oxford Methodists. “Notwithstand-
ing the weightiness of his college work, and the lightness of his
college purse,” he found time to visit the wretched inmates of
Oxford jail, and relieved them as far as he was able. Writing
to his two sons, in 1730, when they had begun of their own ac-
cord to visit the same prison-house, he says: “Go on, in God’s
name, in the path to which your Saviour has directed you, and
that track wherein your father has gone before you; for when
[ was an undergraduate at Oxford I visited those in the castle
there, and reflect on it with great satisfaction to this day. Walk
as prudently as you can, though not fearfully, and my heart and
prayers are with you.” *

Samuel Wesley was ordained a priest of the Church of En-
gland in 1689, twelve days after the Prince and Princess of
Orange were declared by Parliament to be King and Queen of
Great Britain. As a proof of his loyalty, he wrote the first de-
fense of the government that appeared after William and Mary’s
accession. At the time he entered upon his ministerial career,
there were in the English Church some of the most distin-
guished divines that it has ever had: Stillingfleet; ‘Tillotson,
whose sermons were regarded as a standard of finished oratory;
Thomas Kenn, author of the “Morning and Evening Hymns;”
Robert South, William Fleetwood; Gilbert Burnet, author of
the “History of the Reformation;” William Beveridge; Daniel
Whitby, who, in 1703, published in two volumes folio his “Com-
mentary on the New Testament.”

Samuel Wesley’s. first appointment was a curacy, with an in-
come of £28 a year. He was then appointed chaplain on board
a man-of-war, where. he began his poem on the Life of Christ.

 

*The Life and Times'‘of Rev. Samuel Wesley, M.A.
20 History of Methodism.

 

His ecclesiastical income for these few years’ services that he
rendered was small, but he increased the amount by his indus-
try and writings. It was while he held such uncertain posi-
tions that he married, he and his wife living in lodgings
until after the birth of their first-born. The young lady who
became his wife was Susanna, the youngest and twenty-fourth
child of her mother, and the twenty-fifth child of her father, Dr.
Samuel Annesley, one of the leading Non-conformist ministers
of London.*

Susanna Annesley, in person, is said to have been both grace-
fuland beautiful. The accomplishments of her mind were of the
highest order, and for womanly virtues she has probably never
been surpassed. She became the mother of nineteen children,
and was remarkable for her system and success in teaching and
training them. ‘No man,” says Southey, “was ever more suit-
ably mated than Samuel Wesley. The wife whom he chose was,
like himself, the child of a man eminent among the Non-conform-
ists; and, like himself, in early. life she had chosen her own path.
.... She had reasoned herself into Socinianism, from which her
husband reclaimed her. She was an admirable woman, an obedient
wife, an exemplary mother, and a fervent Christian. The mar-
riage was blessed in all its circumstances; it was contracted in
the prime of their youth; it was fruitful; and death did not di-
vide them till they were both full of days.”

The mother of Samuel Wesley was the daughter of a distin-
guished and learned man, John White, a “perpetual fellow” of
one of Oxford’s oldest colleges. She was the niece of another

 

* He was born in 1620, and closed a useful ministry of fifty-five years in 1696.
From his early childhood his heart was set on preaching; and, to qualify himself
for that sacred work, he began, when he was only five or six years old, seriously
to read the Bible; and such was his ardor that he bound himself to read twenty
chapters daily, a practice which he continued to the end of life. At fifteen years
of age he went to Oxford, where he took the degree of LL.D. In 1648 he
preached the fast-day sermon before the House of Commons, which by order wae
printed. He had two of the largest congregations in London. Samuel Annesley
was of so hale and hardy a constitution as to endure the coldest weather without
using either gloves or fire. For many years he seldom drank any thing but water,
and, to the day of his death, he could read the smallest print without spectacles
A short time before he died his joy was such that he exclaimed, “I cannot con-
tain it! What manner of love is this to « poor worm? I cannot express the
thousandth part of the praise due to Christ. I’ll praise thee, and rejoice that
there are others that can praise thee better.” His last words were: “I shall be
satisfied when I awake in Thy likeness—satisfied satisfied.’ (Tyerman.)
The Wesley Family. 21

raan of mark, the celebrated Dr. Thomas Fuller, the Church
historian. It is an interesting fact that the father of Susanna
Wesley’s mother was named John White, also. He entered Ox-
ford at seventeen. In 1640 he was elected Member of Parlia-
ment, and joined in all the proceedings which led to the over-
throw of the Established Church. He was appointed chairman
of the Committee for Religion, and was also a member of the
Westminster Assembly of Divines. In a speech of his, made
in the House of Commons and published in 1641, he contends
that the office of bishop and presbyter is the same; and that the
offices of chancellors, vicars, surrogates, and registrars are all
of ituman origin and ought to be abolished, as being altogether
superfluous and of no service to the Church; that episcopacy
had been intrusted with the care of souls for more than, eighty
years; and now, as a consequence, nearly four-fifths of the
churches throughout the kingdom were held by idle or scandal-
ous ministers. And what though such ministers be reported to
their bishops? The most they got, he said, was a mild reproof;
whereas the same bishops were quick-sighted and keen-scented
to hunt down any man that preached the true gospel, and to
silence or expel him.—These two John Whites do not appear to
have been akin to each other, but their blood met in the founder
of Methodism.

The first home of Samuel and Susanna Wesley was South
Ormsby. Withdrawn from London, and settled down to the se-
clusion of a small country village, he had ample opportunity to
study, read, write, and preach. He was then twenty-eight years
old, and his wife was in her twenty-second year, with their infant
son Samuel just turned four months old. The rectory-house
was little better than a mud-built hut, and in that hovel Samuel
Wesley and his noble young wife lived five years. Here the
rector’s wife brought him one child additional every year, and
did her best to make £50 per annum go as far as possible; and
here he wrote some of the most able works he ever published.
The work by which he is best known was published in 1693, and
entitled, “The Life of our Blessed Lord and Saviour Jesus
Christ. A heroic poem in ten books, dedicated to her Most
Sacred Majesty Queen Mary.” The queen, to whom it was ded-
icated, conferred on him the living of Epworth, in the county of

Lincoln, “without any solicitation on his part, or without his
B
22 History of Methodism.

 

once thinking of such a favor.” The living was in itself a good
one, being worth, in the currency of those times, about £200 a
year, and Samuel Wesley’s family was already large. . Hv was in
debt, and the fees necessary to be paid before entering on the
living added to his debt. On his tombstone it is inscribed that
he was thirty-nine years rector of that parish.

John Wesley was born there, June 17, 1703, and his brother
Charles, December 18, 1707. It was a great advantage to have
had such an ancestry; the laws of heredity could hardly present
a richer and finer combination. Greater still was the advantage
of being born and brought up under the influences of the Ep-
worth parsonage. It was a household that seems to have been
providentially constituted for preparing chosen instruments.
The moral elevation and intellectual vigor of tlie father and an
elder brother, the refining power of variously gifted sisters, the
uncommon mother, the honest struggles with poverty, and the
opportune openings for such higher education as could not be

imparted at home, all conspired to prepare instruments “fit for
the kingdom of God.”

[This Chapter is compiled from The Wesley Memoria. Volume; Memorials of the Wesley
family; Smith's History of Wesleyan Methodism: Taylor’a Wesley and Methodiam; and
fyerman’s Life and Times 2f Rev. Samuel Wesley M A.)
‘CHAPTER II.

Moral Condition of England at the Rise of Methodism: Causes of Iti—Testimony
of Secular and Religious Writers—The Effect of the Methodist Revival on
the Churches; Its Influence on the State.

TNE beginning of the Reformation was Justification by
Faith; but this truth was, to a lamentable degree, soon lost
sight of in the struggle it brought on with the power of popery.
Ecclesiastical revolution, more than evangelical revival, occupied
men’s minds. There was a relapse into formalism, of which the
best that could be said was—it was not papal formalism. The
Lutheran movement, to its great spiritual disadvantage, was com-
' plicated with State-churchism. It lacked gospel discipline. Toa
deputation from Moravia, urging upon him the necessity of com-
bining scriptural discipline and Christian practice with sound doc-
trine, Luther replied: “With us things are not sufficiently ripe
for introducing such holy exercises in doctrine and practice as
we hear is the case with you. Our cause is still in a state of im
maturity, and proceeds slowly; but do you pray for us.”

This imperfection in the Reformation on the Continent was not
lessened by the manner of its introduction into England. That
libidinous and cruel monarch, Henry VIII., was probably not
much attracted by its spiritual aspect; but he was well pleased
with « doctrine that justified him in repudiating the pope. Thus
he himself became head of the Established Church in his own
realm, and got good riddance of a horde of foreign ecclesiastics
hard to govern and greedy of revenues.

The truth of God will make its way even under many and
heavy disadvantages. Two years later (1536) an English version
of the Bible was first printed; and the doctrines of the Reforma-
tion were about this time faithfully preached by Cranmer, Ridley,
Latimer, and other pious ministers. During the short reign of
Edward VI. the reformed doctrines obtained extensive influence,
and copies of the Scriptures were circulated as freely as the state
of learning and the circumstances of the people would allow.
Thirty-five editions of the New Testament and fourteen of the
complete Bible were printed and published in England during

the six years and a half of the young king’s reign.
(23)
24 History of Methodism.

 

The dawning hope which these propitious circumstances justi-
fied was obscured by the death of this prince and the accession
of Mary (1553). She restored the papal authority. Hooper,
Cranmer, Ridley, Latimer, and many others, were burned; and
hundreds more perished in loathsome prisons and by various
other hardships and tortures.

Mary died, and Elizabeth ascended the throne (1558). Her
rand purpose appears to have been to reéstablish the Reforma-
tion; and so far as legislation can change the religion of a country,
this was accomplished, and the whole form of religion was estab-
lished substantially as it is found at present in the English
Church.* With the accession of Elizabeth gospel truth was
again preached; but on the settlement of the national Church, not
a few of the most pious and spiritually-minded of the Protest-
ants were lost to her pulpits, because so many rites and usages,
which they deemed remnants of popery, were retained. A high
Puseyite authority says: “The Protestant confession was drawn up
with the purpose of including Catholics;”+ and thus two wrongs.
were perpetrated: elements of antichristian error were retained,
and conscientious followers of Christ were excluded. Notwith-
standing this, there was a great circulation of gospel truth, which
germinated and produced fruit during that and the following
generations.

The rapid growth of Puritanism during this reign greatly con-
tributed to the events which afterward occurred. Much popular
discontent prevailed with the but partial purification of the
Church from papal errors, and Puritanism began its work of pro-
test, reformation, and honest rebellion.

The death of Elizabeth (1603) ended the Tudor dynasty and
placed James I., of the house of Stuart, on the throne of En-
gland, and brought it and Scotland under the same king. This
reign gave the world the present English Bible—an incalculable
benefit to the advancement of religion. It also furnished the
Book of Sports by royal declaration (1618), for the purpose of

 

* But the depth of this outward change is best seen in the fast that out of nine
thousand four hundred beneficed clergymen in the kingdom, only fifteen bishops,
twelve archdeacons, fifteen heads of colleges, fifty canons, and eighty parochial
priests—in all one hundred and seventy-two persons—quitted their preferments
rather than change their religion from the extreme popery of Mary’s reign to
what is called the thorough Protestantism of that of Elizabeth.

{ Oxford Tracts for the Tims, No. XC. {George Smith, F.A.S,
Moral Condition of England. 25

 

promoting Sunday amusements. By this means free and full
liberty and encouragement were given for the “dancing of men
and women, archery for men, leaping, vaulting, May-games,
Whitsun-ales, morris-dancers, May-poles, and other sports, after
the Church services on Sundays.” And his majesty’s pleasure
was declared to be that the bishops should take measures for
constraining the people to conform to these practices.

Charles I. succeeded his father (1625); weak in judgment, pas.
sionate in temper, and obstinate in disposition. Like all his
family, he was fond of arbitrary government, and had an evident
partiality for popery. His queen wasa papist. This king found
himself an heir to huge debts, and all the embarrassments which
royal wants involve. Unskillful in government, he soon became
embroiled in difficulties with his Parliament. That typical High-
churchman, Archbishop Laud, was his trusted counselor and his
chief calamity. Through the piety and energy of the Puritans,
and the zeal for Calvinistic tenets with which they now began to
be inflamed, the people were to a greater extent than ever hostile
to the State Church, and disposed to regard the government
which patronized and sustained it as partial and unjust. Laud
urged his royal master to exasperating persecutions and consci-
entiously encouraged his popish proclivities. The civil wars
began, and both lost their heads.

The House of Commons was now the government. The Pres-
byterians were paramount in it, and proceeded to remodel the
Church on the plan of the Westminster Assembly of Divines.
It was ordered that the Solemn League and Covenant should be
taken by all persons above the age of eighteen; and, as this in-
strument bound all who received it to endeavor to extirpate Epis-
copal Church government, its enforcement led to the ejection of
one thousand six hundred beneficed clergymen from their livings.
But if we may rely on the testimony of Burnet, Baxter, and others,
all the ejections of the period did not take place on political or secta-
rian grounds, many having been occasioned by the gross ignorance,
shameful neglect of duty, or notorious immorality of the ministers.

Puritanism, with all its virtues, had strong and persistent vices.
It early created a High-churchism of its own, and claimed as ex-
clusive scriptural authority for presbytery as its Episcopal antag-
onists, “the judicious Hooker” and others, have asserted for
’ prelacy. There was, indeed, scarcely any part of ecclesiastical
26 History of Methodism.

 

polity, except prelacy, against which Puritans had inveighed
when in subjection that they did not adopt and practice when
in power. Milton declares that the men who had preached so
earnestly against the avarice and pluralities of bishops and other
ministers, as soon as they had the power, began to practice with
the most grasping cupidity all the abuses which they had con-
demned. ‘Those who had pleaded so earnestly for liberty of con-
science, and who had deprecated the interference of the civil powers
in matters purely religious, now that they were at the helm of
affairs, were of another mind.

Oliver Cromwell and the predominant element of the army
leaned to Independency, and coming into supreme power he pro-
claimed and practiced freedom to worship God. The nation was
weary of intestine strife; and, without having obtained civil liberty
by the bloody struggle, sat down contentedly under his sway, in the
enjoyment of religious toleration. The transfer of power from
the Presbyterian to the Independent body does not appear to have
made any immediate alteration in the organization of the State
Church, beyond a device that deprived presbyteries of the right
of approving or rejecting ministers. The Protector appointed
thirty-eight persons, whom he called “riers,” selected from the
Episcopalians, Presbyterians, Baptists, and Independents, who
were to examine and receive all candidates for the ministry.
Their instructions required them to judge whether they could
approve every such person, for “the grace of God in him, his
holy and unblamable conversation, as also for his knowledge and
utterance, able and fit to preach the gospel.” Five of these com-
niissioners were sufficient to approve a minister.

The Commonwealth proceeded ‘to prohibit immorality by law.
Vice was punished with Draconian severity. Adultery was a
capital crime for the first offense. Fornication was punished
with three months’ imprisonment for the first offense; for the
second, with death. Public amusements, from masques in the
mansions of the great down to wrestling and grinning matches
on village greens, were vigorously attacked. All the May-poles
in England were ordered to be hewn down, the play-houses dis-
mantled, the spectators fined, and the actors whipped at the cart’s
tail. Magistrates dispersed festive meetings, and put fiddlers in
the stocks. ‘he external appearance of religion was so rigidly
enforced as to be largely productive of hypocrisy.
Moral Condition of England. 27

 

Under the Commonwealth, Oliver Cromwell extended his coun.
try’s prowess and wealth. The stern virtues of his Roundheads
and Ironsides made themselves felt at home and abroad. Eiffem-
inate vice became unfashionable, and much was done during this
period to promote and establish a thoroughly Protestant feeling
and judgment, and to extend real religion among the people. But
the country, at length, became impatient of enduring this govern.
ment. The people saw that they had only changed an heredi.
tary monarchy for the rule of an absolute governor, and this con-
viction prepared the way for the Restoration. On the death of
Cromwell, his son Richard was declared Lord Protector in his
stead; but the reins of power soon fell from his feeble grasp. He
retired into private life, and Charles IT., eldest son of the late.
king, was placed on the throne.

One of the most fatal errors ever made in political affairs was
committed in the hasty restoration of this monarch. If ordinary
caution had been used, the constitutional liberty of the country
might have been placed on a firm foundation. But this favor-
able opportunity was thrown away. Instead of being restored
under such guarantees as were calculated to secure the liberty
of the subject and the freedom of religion, Charles was placed
on the throne with such precipitancy that the event assumed
rather the appearance of a triumph of those principles and prac-
tices which caused the ruin of his father.

By order of Parliament the Solemn League and Covenant,* the
well-known symbol of Presbyterian ascendency—which had been
taken down from the walls of the House of Commons—was burned
by the common hangman; the hangman first tearing the docu-

 

*The Solemn League and Covenant was a contract agreed to by the Scots, in the
year 1638. In 1643 it was brought into England; and it was enacted, by a joint
ordinance of both Houses of Parliament, “that the League and Covenant should
be solemnly taken and subscribed, in all places throughout the kingdom of En-
gland and dominion of Wales, by all persons above the age of eighteen.” Accord-
ingly, it was signed by most of the members of the two houses of legislature, Fy all
the Divines of the Assembly then sitting at Westminster, and by a large number of
the people in general. Two of the principal vows were: 1. That the party takiny
and subscribing the Covenant would endeavor to “bring the Churches of God in all
the three kingdoms to the nearest conjunction and uniformity in religion, confes-
cion of faith, and form of Church government, as the [Presbyterian] Directory pre
scribes for worship and catechising.” And, 2. That he would “endeavor, without
respect of persons, to extirpate popery and prelacy.” (Geo. Smith, F.A.S., whose
admirable historv of England, in the times preceding Methodism, we follow.)
28 History of Methodism.

 

ment into pieces, and then burning the fragments in succession
—he all the while lifting up his hands and eyes in pious indigna-
tion, until not a shred was left. After a futile (and on the part
of the king and court an insincere) effort for a bill of Comprehen-
sion, giving to Protestant Non-conformists the same considera-
tion that had been allowed to Romanists or papal Non-conform-
ists in the ecclesiastical scheme of Elizabeth, the Restoration be-
gan to bring forth its fruit. The party in power, not satisfied
with restoring the expelled bishops and ministers of the Church,
_ proceeded to make direct aggression on the religious and civil
liberties of those who differed from them.

The effects of these measures were dreadful. Great numbers
were imprisoned; pious persons were driven to meet for wor-
ship in solitude and at midnight; and many sought deliver-
ance from such tyranny by emigrating to the American Colonies.
A host of conscientious ministers were driven from their
churches, and as far as the power of the Crown could effect its
object, all classes of Non-conformists were silenced. Men of great
learning and religion were turned out of parsonage, glebes, and
tithes, and then harried by laws that were a refinement of cruelty.
And yet a pitiful picture might be drawn of the clergymen who,
twenty years previously, had been expelled from the same
churches by the Puritans, when men of learning and religion
were in many instances succeeded by “mere rhapsodists and
ramblers,” “cried up as rare soul-saving preachers.” Nota few
venerable and worthy ministers, then expelled by the rough hand
of violence, “lingered out their lives, worried, and worn out with
fears, anxieties, necessities, rude affronts, and remediless afflic-
tions.” Such a marked retaliation as this had never before been
known in the history of the Protestant Church. Hundreds of the
men who lately protested against granting toleration were now
compelled piteously, but in vain, to beg for liberty of conscience.

The Restoration removed even the appearance of morality.
lt opened wide the flood-gates of licentiousness and vice. The
court became a royal brothel. The play-house became the temple
of England. The king was a confirmed voluptuary, and is acknowl-
edged to have been the father of at least eleven children born of
seven different countesses, who lived successively with him as
mistresses, although he had a queen the whole time who had to
meet and mix up with these women at court. In all the relations
Morul Condition of England. * 29

of life, public and private, he was unprincipled, profligate, false,
and corrupt; whilst, from the example of his debauched and
licentious court, public morals contracted a taint which it re-
quired little less than a century to obliterate, and which for a
time paralyzed the character of the nation. For nearly a gener-
ation—during twenty-eight years—the people of England were in
this state of religious retrogression. All the influences that were
invested with power, and allowed freedom of action.on the pub-
lic mind, were malign in their tendency. Charles II. died (1685)
begging forgiveness of his neglected queen, blessing his bastard
children, asking for kindness to be shown to his mistresses, and
receiving from a popish priest the Romish communion, extreme
unction, and a popish pardon.

His brother, the Duke of York, an avowed papist, succeed-
ed to the throne as James IJ. That he might bring in his own
sort and place them in the universities and the courts and the
churches, he presented the rare phenomenon of a Roman Cath.
olic king contending for liberty of conscience for all his sub-..
jects! To this end he attempted—Stuart-like—to dispense with
the laws of the realm by his royal prerogative. The perfidy and
pig-headed obstinacy of James IT., united with the judicial cru-
elties that disgraced his brief reign, led to his expulsion. The
army, the navy, the Church, and the people, simultaneously
abandoned the infatuated monarch, who, finding himself without
any support, sought refuge in France.

 

William and Mary were, in consequence of the abdication of | |

James, raised to the throne; but the nation did not on this occa-
sion repeat the blunder which it had made on the restoration of
the Stuarts. Before offering the Prince.of Orange the scepter,
both Houses waited on him and tendered a Declaration of
Rights, which was accepted and became law. By this measure,
constitutional liberty was secured; the succession to the throne
became limited to Protestant princes; and other alterations of a
liberal character followed.

In the year (1689) which followed the accession of William and
Mary, an Act was passed which gave toleration to Protestant
Dissenters. Yet-their accession made another division in the
English Church. Many ministers belonging to the High-church
party, regarding the hereditary right to the throne as divine and
indefeasible, refused to take the oath of allegiance to William.
30 History of Methodism...’

 

and were consequently expelled from their offices and livings,
nnuder the name of Non-jurors. The Archbishop of Canterbury,
four bishops, and about fourteen hundred. clergymen, suffered
deprivation for this cause. Anne ascended the throne at the
death of William (1702). Her reign was distinguished by the
wilitary triumphs of Marlborough, and the brilliant wit and
raillery of what has been commonly called the Augustan age of
literature. George I., of Hanover, great-grandson of James L.,
succeeded (1714) on the death of Anne. He died of apoplexy,
in 1727, whilst traveling with one of his mistresses, the Duchess
of Kendal, to Hanover, and was succeeded by his son, George II.

These events placed the country in the civil, political, and
religious position in which it was found at the origin of Meth-
odism. Such influences crowded into the history of one hundred
and fifty years must have had their effect on the moral character
of a people, and should be taken into account in order to the
formation of a just idea of the period when Wesley and his
helpers began their work. Prelates and other ecclesiasticas
dignitaries were embroiled in political strife—intense partisans.
The majority of the clergy were ignorant, worldly-minded, and
many of them scandalized their profession by open immorality:
and it may be said, without any breach of charity, that very few,
even of the best of them, had correct views respecting the aton-
ing sacrifice of Christ, or understood the nature of the great
cardinal doctrine of the Reformation—justification by faith.
Arianism and Socinianism, such as was taught by Clarke and
Priestley, had become fashionable even among Dissenters. The
higher classes laughed at piety, and prided themselves on being
above what they called its fanaticism; the lower classes were
grossly ignorant, and abandoned to vice.

From the Restoration down to the rise of Methodism, Church-
men and Non-conformists bear concurrent testimony respecting
tle decayed condition of religion and morals. The pathetic
.amentation of Bishop Burnet has often been quoted. He
says: :

I am now in the seventieth year of my age; and as I cannot speak long in the
world in any sort, so I cannot hope for a more solemn occasion than this of speak-
ing with all due freedom, both to the present and to the succeeding ages. There-
fore I lay hold on it, to give a free vent to those sad thoughts that lie on my mind

both day and night, and are the subject of many secret mournings. I cannot look on
w'thout the deepest concern, when I see the imminent ruin hanging over this
Situation at the Rise of Methodism. 31

 

Church, and, by consequence, over the whole Reformation. The outward state of
things is black enough, God knows; but that which heightens my fears rises chiefly
from the inward state into which we are unhappily fallen. I will, in examining
this, confine myself to the clergy. Our Ember-weeks are the burden and grief of
my life. The much greater part of those who come to be ordained are ignorant to a
degree not to be apprehended by those who are not obliged to know it. The easi-
est part of knowledge is that to which they are the greatest strangers; I mean the
plainest part of the Scriptures, which they say, in excuse for their ignorance, that
their tutors in the universities never mention the reading of to them; so that they
can give no account, or at least a very imperfect one, of the contents even of the
Gospels. Those who have read some few books, yet never seem to have read the
Scriptures, Many cannot give a tolerable account even of the Catechism itself,
how short and plain soever. This does often tear my heart.

Burnet complains further of his clergy: “Politics and party
eat out among us not only study and learning, but that which is
the only thing that is more valuable—a true sense of religion.”

Speaking on the subject, Macaulay says: “It is true that at
that time (1685) there was no lack in the English Church of min-
isters distinguished by abilities and learning; but these men
were to be found, with scarce a single exception, at the univer-
sities, at the great cathedrals, or in the capitol.”

And a shrewd critic of the following century remarks on the
effect of test-oaths and shifting majorities upon religious integ-
tity: “The great numbers who went through a nominal conver-
sion in order to secure an estate, or to enter a profession, grad-
ually lowered the theological temperature. Sobriety and good
sense were the qualities most valued in the pulpit, and enthusi-
asm and extravagance were those which were most dreaded. The
habit of extempore preaching almost died out after Burnet.
Tillotson set the example of written discourses, which harmon-
ized better with the cold and colorless theology that prevailed.” *

Natural religion was the favorite study of the clergy—“ the
darling topic of the age.” In the advertisement to his “Analogy
Between Religion and the Constitution and Course of Nature,”
designed to meet the prevalent infidelity, Bishop Butler says :

It is come, I know not how, to be taken for granted by many persons that
Christianity is not so much a subject of inquiry but that it is now at length dis-
covered to be fictitious; and, accordingly, they treat it as if, in the present age, this
were an agreed point among all people of discernment; and nothing remained but
to set it up as a principal subject of mirth and ridicule, as it were, by way of re-
prisals, for having so long interrupted the pleasures of the world.

 

*Lecky: History of England in the Eighteenth Century, Vol. II., Chap. IX.
32 History of Methodism.

Archbishop Secker, but one year before that which is commem-
orated as the epoch of Methodism, observes:

Men have always complained of their own times, and always with too much
reason. But though it is natural to think those evils the greatest which we feel
ourselves, and therefore mistakes are easily made in comparing one age with an-
other, yet in this we cannot be mistaken, that an open and professed disregard
for religion is become, through a variety of unhappy causes, the distinguishing
character of the present age; that this evil is grown to a great height in the me
trapolis of the nation; is daily spreading through every part of it; and, bad in
itself as any can be, must of necessity bring in all others after it. Indeed, it hath
already brought in such dissoluteness and contempt of principle in the higher
part of the world, and such profligate intemperance and fearlessness of committing
crimes in the lower, as must, if this torrent of impiety stop not, become absolutely
fatal. Christianity is now ridiculed and railed at with very little reserve, and the
teachers of it without any at all.

"Dr. Isaac Watts, in his preface to “An Humble Attempt To-
ward the Revival of Practical Religion” (1731), testifies of the
religious declension: “It is a general matter of mournful obser-
vation amongst all that lay the cause of God to heart; and, there-
fore, it cannot be thought amiss for every one to use all just and
proper efforts for the recovery of dying religion in the world.”

A late writer, not prejudiced in favor of Methodism, admits
that when Wesley appeared the Anglican Church was “an eccle-
siastical system under which the people of England had lapsed
into heathenism, or a state hardly to be distinguished from it;”
and that Methodism “preserved from extinction and reinimated
the languishing Non-conformity of the last century, which, just
at the time of the Methodistic revival, was rapidly in course to
be found nowhere but in books.” *

“Tt was,” to use Wesley’s own words, “just at the time when
we wanted little of filling up the measure of our iniquities, that
two or three clergymen of the Church of England began ‘ehe-
mently to call sinners to repentance.”

Voltaire did not speak without apparent reason when he pre-
dicted that Christianity would be overthrown throughout the
world in the next generation. He was struck by the contrast be-
tween the English and French pulpits: “Discourses aiming at
the pathetic and accompanied with violent gestures would ex-
cite langhter in an English congregation. A sermon in France
is a long declamation, scrupulously divided into three parts, and

 

*Tsaac Taylor: Wesley and Methodism.
“Effect of the Methodist Revival. 33

 

delivered with enthusiasm. In England, a sermon is a solid but
dry dissertation which a man reads to the people, without gest-
ure and without any particular exaltation of the voice.”

A historian of authority, often quoted, after declaring that
“in the middle classes a religious revival burst forth,” in the first
half of the last century, “which changed after a time the whole
tone of English society,” adds:

But during the fifty years which preceded this outburst we see little save a re
volt against religion and against Churches, in either the higher classes or the
poor. Of the prominent statesmen of the time, the greater part were unbeliev-
ers in any form of Christianity, and distinguished for the grossness and immo-
rality of their lives. Drunkenness and foul talk were thought no discredit tc
Walpole. A later prime-minister, the Duke of Grafton, was in the habit of ap-
pearing at the play with his mistress. Purity and fidelity to the marriage-vow
were sneered out of fashion; and Lord Chesterfield, in his letters to his son, instructs
him in the art of seduction as a part of a polite education.*

The secular historians of this period, after their own manner
and from their points of view, set the case in a strong light.
Lecky, who will hardly be accused of “evangelical” principles,
nor counted as a partisan of Methodism, testifies:

Yet cold, selfish, and unspiritual as was the religion of England from the Rev-
olution till the Methodist movement had pervaded the Establishment with its
spirit, it was a period that was not without its distinctive excellences.

There was little dogmatic exposition, and still less devotional literature, but
the assaults of the deists were met with masterly ability. To this period belong
the Alciphron of Berkeley, the Analogy of Butler, the Credibility of the Gospels
by Lardner, and the Evidential writings of Sherlock, Leslie, and Leland. The
clergy of the great cities were often skillful and masculine reasoners. Those
of the country discharged the official duties of religion, mixing without scruple in
country business and country sports. Their standard was low; their zeal was lan-
guid; but their influence, such as it was, was chiefly for good. That in such a so-
ciety a movement like that of Methodism should have exercised a great power is
not surprising. The secret of its success was merely that it satisfied some of the
strongest and most enduring wants of our nature which found no gratification in
the popular theology, and that it revived a large class of religious doctrines which—
had been long almost wholly neglected. The utter depravity of human nature,
the lost condition of every man who is born into the world, the vicarious atone-
ment of Christ, the necessity to salvation of a new birth, of faith, of the constant
and sustaining action of the Divine Spirit upon the believer’s soul, are doctrines
which in the eyes of the modern Evangelicals constitute at once the most vital
and the most influential portions of Christianity; but they are doctrines which,
during the greater part of the eighteenth century, were seldvm heard from a
Church of England pulp‘t.

* Green: History of the English People, Vol. IV., Book VIIL
3

 
34 Ffistory of Methodism.

 

“The splendid victories by land and sea, and the dazzling epi-
sodes,” in the reign of George IL., “ must yield,” says Lecky, “in
real importance to that religious revolution which shortly before
had begun by the preaching of the Wesleys and Whitefield. The
creation of a large, powerful, and active sect, extending over both
hemispheres, and numbering many millions of souls, was but
one of its consequences. It also exercised a profound and last-
ing influence upon the spirit of the Established Church, upor
the amount and distribution of the moral forces of the nation,
and even upon the course of its political history.”

The same author thus describes the teaching of the pulpit
“when the new movement hegan:”

The essential and predominating characteristics of the prevailing theology were
the prominence that was given to external morality as distinguished both from
dogma and from all the forms of emotion, and the assiduity with which the preach-
ers labored to establish the purely rational character of Christianity. It was the
leading object of the skeptics of the time to assert the sufficiency of natural relig-
ion. It was the leading object of a large proportion of the divines to prove that
Christianity was little more than natural religion accredited by historic proofs and
enforced by the indispensable sanctions of rewards and punishments. Beyond a
belief in the doctrine of the Trinity and a general acknowledgment of the verac-
ity of the Gospel narratives, they taught little that might not have been taught by
disciples of Socrates and Plato. They labored to infuse a higher tone into the so-
cial and domestic spheres, to make men energetic in business, moderate in pleas-
ure, charitable to the poor, upright, honorable, and dutiful ir every relation of
life. While acknowledging the imperfection, they sincerely respected the essen-
tial goodness of human nature, dwelt much upon the infallible authority of the
moral sense, and explained away or simply neglected all doctrines that conflicted
with it. A great variety of causes had led to the gradual evanescence of dogmat-
ic teaching and to the discredit into which strong religious emotions had fallen.*

At the risk of anticipating a portion of our history, the follow-
ing remarks of this popular and philosophic historian on Pitt
and Wesley are here presented for the light—direct and indi-
rect—which they throw upon the subject:

Under the influence of many adverse circumstances, the standard of morals had
been greatly depressed since the Restoration; and in the early Hanoverian period
the nation had sunk into a condition of moral apathy rarely paralleled in history.
But from about the middle of the eighteenth century a reforming spirit was once
more abroad, and asteady movement of moral ascent may bedetected. The influence
of Pitt in politics and the influence of Wesley and his followers in religion were
the earliest and most important agencies in effecting it. In most respects
Pitt and Wesley were, it is true, extremely unlike. But with all these differ.

 

* History of England in the Eighteenth Century, Vol. II., Chap. IX.
Effect of the Methodist Revival. 35

 

ences, there was a real analogy and an intimate relation between the work of
these two men. The religious and political notions prevailing in the early Han-
overian period were closely connected. The theological conception which looked
upon religion as a kind of adjunct to the police-force, which dwelt almost exclu-
sively on the prudence of embracing it, and on the advantages it could confer, and
which regarded all spirituality and all strong emotions as fanaticism, corresponded
very faithfully to that political system under which corruption was regarded as
the natural instrument, and the maintenance of material interests the supreme
end of government; while the higher motives of political action were svstemat-
ically ridiculed and discouraged. By Wesley in the sphere of religion, by Pitt
in the sphere of politics, the tone of thought and feeling was changed. I+ was
felt that enthusiasm, disinterestedness, and self-sacrifice had their place in poli-
tics; and although there was afterward, for short periods, extreme corruption,
public opinion never acquiesced in it again.*

Green, in his “History of the English People,” ft presents
with equal clearness the fact that the Wesleyan revival was a
necessary condition for purifying political life.

Horace Walpole, whose power ran through three reigns—from
Anne to George II.—was the standing representative of polit-
ical cynicism, of that unbelief in high sentiment and noble aspi-
rations which had followed the crash of Puritanism. In the
talk of patriotism and public virtue he saw nonsense. “Men
would grow wiser,” he said, “and come out of that.” Bribery
and borough-jobbing were his base of power. Green says:

Rant about ministerial corruption would have fallen flat on the public ear had
aot new moral forces, a new sense of social virtue, a new sense of religion, been
stirring, however blindly, in the minds of Englishmen. The stir showed itself
markedly in a religious revival which began in a small knot of Oxford students,
whose revolt against the religious deadness of their times expressed itself in ascet-
ic observances, an enthusiastic devotion, and a methodical regularity of life which

_ gained them the nickname of “Methodists.” Three figures detached themselves
from the group as soon as, on its transfer to London, in 1738, it attracted public
attention by the fervor and even extravagance of its piety; and each found his
special work in the task to which the instinct of the new movement led it from
the first—that of carrying religion and morality to the vast masses of population
which lay concentrated in the towns, or around the mines and collieries of Corn-
wall and the north. Whitefield was, above all, the preacher of the revival.
Speech was governing English politics; and the religious power of speech was
shown when a dread of “enthusiasm” closed against the new apostles the pul pits
af the Established Church and forced them to preach in the fields. Their voice
was soon heard in the wildest and most barbarous corners of the land, in the
deus of London, or in the long galleries where, in the pauses of his labor, the
Cornish miner listens to the sobbing of the sea.

 

*Tbid., Vol IL, Chap. VIII. + Vol. IV., Book VIII.
36 History of Methodism.

 

Such eulogies on Wesley and his co-laborers come late, but
are none the less significant. They contrast gratefully with the
scurrillous literature that greeted the Founder of Methodism
when his work began. The test of Gamaliel has been applied:
“But if it be of God, ye cannot overthrow it;” and historians
announce the verdict of a century of facts.

We close the chapter with other quotations from this author.
who has studied Wesley and Wesleyanism: “He was oldm
than any of his colleagues at the start, and he outlived them
all. His life, indeed, almost covers the century. No man
ever stood at the head of a great revolution whose temper
was so anti-revolutionary. When Whitefield began his ser-
mons in the fields, Wesley ‘could not at first reconcile himself to
that strange way.’ He fought against the admission of laymen
as preachers until he found himself left with none but laymen
to preach. He broke with the Moravians who had been the
earliest friends of the new movement, when they endangered its
safe conduct by their contempt of religious forms. He broke
with Whitefield when the great preacher plunged into an extray-
agant Calvinism. But the same practical temper of mind which
led him to reject what was unmeasured, and to be the last to
adopt what was new, enabled him at once to grasp and organize
the novelties he adopted. He himself became the most un-
wearied of field-preachers, and his journal for half a century is
little more than a record of fresh journeys and fresh sermons.
When once driven to employ lay helpers in his ministry, he
made their work a new and attractive feature in his system. The
great body which he thus founded numbered one hundred thou-
sand at his death, and now counts its members in England and
America by millions. But the Methodists themselves were the
least result of the Methodist revival. Its action upon the Church
broke the lethargy of the clergy; and the ‘Evangelical’ move-
ment, which found representatives like Newton and Cecil within
the pale of the Establishment, made the fox-hunting parson and
the absentee rector at last impossible. A new philanthrophy re-
formed our prisons, infused clemency and wisdom into our penal
laws, abolished the slave-trade, and gave the first impulse to
popular education.”
CHAPTER III.

Hovae Training—Parsonage Life—At School—At the University—Awakenings
—Studying Divinity—Predestination—Difficulties About Assurance—Ordina-
tion.

‘T ET us return to the Epworth parsonage. Samuel Wesley,

the stalwart Churchman, is diligent; never unemployed,

never triflingly employed.
* Dr. Whitehead says of him: “As a pastor, Samuel Wesley was
indefatigable in the duties of his office; a constant preacher, feed-
ing the flock with the pure doctrines of the gospel, according to
his ability; diligent in visiting the sick, and administering such
advice as their situations required; and attentive to the conduct
of all who were under his care; so that every one in his parish
became an object of his concern. No strangers could settle with-
in its limits but he presently knew it, and made himself acquaint-
ed with them.”

He undertook to work the land of the rectory, but was a bad
manager, and debts grew faster than crops. His barn fell, his
flax got burned. The rector’s temper, along with his Tory pol-
ities, made him unpopular; his cattle were stabbed in the field,
his house-dog was maimed. Once his house was partially burned,
and on another occasion was entirely destroyed by fire—whether
by accident or incendiarism will never be known.

After a hotly-contested election, Mr. Wesley, for a debt of £30,
was put into prison by an unfriendly creditor, where he remained
three months, until friends who were able to help came to his
relief. “Now I am at rest,” he wrote from the prison to the
Archbishop of York, “for I am come to the haven where I have
long expected to be; and I don’t despair of doing good here, and
it may be more in this new parish than in my old one.” He
1aad prayers daily, and preached on Sundays. He was consoled
by the fortitude of his noble wife. Money she had none—not a
coin; the household lived on bread and milk, the produce of the
Epworth glebe; but she did what she could to help her husband
in his strait—she sent him her little articles of jewelry, includ-

ing her wedding-ring; but these he sent her back, as things far
C (37)
38 History of Methodism.

 

too sacred to be used in relieving his necessities. “’Tis not
every one,” he wrote again to the archbishop, “who could bear
these things; but I bless God my wife is less concerned with
suffering them than I am in writing, or than I believe your Grace
will be in reading them. Most of my friends advise me to
leave Epworth, if ever I should get from hence. I confess ]
am not of that mind, because I may yet do good here; and it
is like a coward to desert my post because the enemy fire thick
upon me.”

Dr. A. Clarke assures us that Samuel Wesley had a large share
of vivacity; that in conversation he was entertaining and instruct-
ive, having a rich fund of anecdote, and of witty and wise say-
ings. There is a grim humor in the way he tells of his debt
troubles. His income was £200; but deducting taxes, poor as-
sessments, sub-rents, tenths, procurations, and synodals, the Ep-
worth living brought not more than about £130a year. Writing
to his patron, the archbishop (1701), he details these expenses,
and adds:

I have had but three children born since I came hither about three years
since, but another coming, and my wife incapable of any business in my family
as she has been for almost a quarter of a year, yet we have but one maid-servant,
to retrench all possible expenses. Ten pounds a year I allow my mother, to
help to keep her from starving. All which together keeps me necessitous, espe-
cially smce interest-money begins to pinch me, and I am always called on for
money before I make it, and must buy every thing at the worst hand; whereas,
could I be so happy as to get on the right side of my income, I should not fear,
by God’s help, but to live honestly in the world, and to leave a little to my chil-
dren after me. I think, as ’tis, I could perhaps work it out in time, in half a

dozen or half a score years, if my heart should hold so long; but for that, God’s
will be done! *

Notwithstanding all these things, Samuel Wesley held on his
way. Leaving the care of household and the education of chil-
dren to his excellent wife, he not only discharged his clerical
duties with diligence, but, unchecked by poverty or persecution,

 

* A few days after, another letter followed to the archbishop: “This comes as a
rider to the last, by the same post, to bring such news as I presume will not be
unwelcome to a person who has so particular a concern for me. Last night my
wife brought me a few children. There are but two yet, a boy and a girl, and }
shink they are all at present. . . . . Wednesday evening my wife and }
clubbed and joined stocks, which came but to six shillings, to send for coals.
Thursday morning I received the ten pounds, and at night my wife was delivered
(Zlory be to God for his unspeakalle goodness!”
Samuel Wesley and His Books. BY

 

persevered in a course of literary labor of vast magnitude. Be-
sides a great number of smaller but respectable publications, he
dedicated his “Life of Christ,” in verse, to Queen Mary; his
“ History of the Old and New Testaments” to Queen Anne; and
his elaborate Latin dissertations on the Book of Job to Queen
Caroline—three successive queens of Great Britain. His great-
est literary work was “ Dissertationes in Librum Jobi,” a large-
size folio book of six hundred pages. He was employed upon
this remarkable production for more than five and twenty years,
and death found him plodding away at the unfinished task. It
is written in Latin, intermixed with innumerable Hebrew and
Greek quotations. The list of subscribers for it includes the
first characters in the realm—princes, prelates, poets, and phi-
losophers. Pope was intimate with the rector, and in a letter to
Swift, soliciting his interest for the book, says of its author: “I
vall him what he is, a learned man, and I engage you will approve
his prose more than you formerly did his poetry.” The illus-
trations, or “sculptures,” were numerous, unique, and costly.
While the author was giving minute directions about engraving
Job’s war-horse and the ‘‘ Poetica Descriptio Monstri,” the wolf
was at his door. The rectory had been rebuilt within a year
after it was burned; but the rector was so impoverished that
thirteen years afterward his wife declares that the house was
still not half furnished, and she and her children had not more
than half enough of clothing. This extract from one of her let-
ters tells its own story: “The late Archbishop of York once
said to me (when my master was in Lincoln castle), ‘Tell me,
Mrs. Wesley, whether you ever really wanted bread?’ ‘My
lord,’ said I, ‘I will freely own to your Grace that, strictly
speaking, I never did want bread. But then I had so much care
to get it before it was eat, and to pay for it after, as has often
made it very unpleasant to me; and I think to have bread on such
terms is the next degree of wretchedness to having none at all.’”
Tha mother of nineteen children, ten of whom were reared to
roaturity, the wife of a poor clergyman, Mrs. Wesley was placed
in circumstances sufficiently trying to call forth all the resources
of the greatest and most cultivated Christian mind. And itis not
saying too much to add that her resources never failed her. She
conducted household affairs with judgment, precision, diligence,
and economy. Her children found in her a devoted, talented,
40 History of Methodism.

and systematic teacher. When rising into life, her sons as well
as daughters had in their mother an able and affectionate coun-
selor, correspondent, and friend. Her most distinguished son,
in later years, mentions “the calm serenity with which his moth-
er transacted business, wrote letters, and conversed, surrounded
by her thirteen children.” She was a woman that lived by rule;
she methodized every thing so exactly that to each operation she
had a time, and time sufficient to transact all the business of the
family. As to the children, their going to rest, rising in the
morning, dressing, eating, learning, and exercise, she managed
by rule, which was never suffered to be broken unless in case of
sickness.

It was not until after her children had reached mature years
that the system by which she managed her household was com-
mitted to writing. These are some of the principal rules which
she says, “I observed in educating my family:”

The children were always put into a regular method of living, in such things
as they were capable of, from their birth; as in dressing and undressing, chang-
ing their linen, ete. When turned a year old (and some before) they were taught
to fear the rod and to cry softly, by which means they escaped abundance of cor-
rection which they might otherwise have had; and that most odious noise of the
crying of children was rarely heard in the house, but the family usually lived in
as much quietness as if there had not been a child among them.

As soon as they were grown pretty strong, they were confined to three meals a
day. At dinner their little table and chairs were set by ours, where they could
be nverlooked; and as soon as they could handle a knife and fork they were set to
our table. They were never suttered to choose their meat, but always made to eat
such things as were provided for the family. ;

At six, as soon as family prayer was over, they had their supper; at seven the
maid washed them, and, beginning at the youngest, she undressed and got them
all to bed by eight, at which time she left them in their several rooms awake, for
there was no such thing allowed of in our house as sitting by « child till it fell
asleep.

In order to form the minds of children, the first thing to be done is to conquer
their will and bring them to an obedient temper. To inform the understanding
is a work of time, and must with children proceed by slow degrees, as they are
able to bear it; but the subjecting the will is a thing which must be done at once.
and the sooner the better, for by neglecting timely correction they will contract a
sturbornness and obstinacy which are hardly ever after conquered, and never
without using such severity as would be as painful to me as to the child. In the
esteem of the world they pass for kind and indulgent whom I call cruel parents,
who permit their children to get habits which they know must be afterward bro-
ken. Nay, some are so stupidly fond as in sport to teach their-children to do
‘bings which in awhile after they have severely beaten them for doing. When
Mrs. Wesley—Her Family Government. 4]

 

a child is corrected it must be conquered; and this will be no hard matter to do
if it be not grown headstrong by too much indulgence. And when the will of a
child is totally subdued, and it is taught to revere and stand in awe of the parents,
then a great many childish follies and inadvertences may be passed by. I insist
upon conquering the will of children betimes, because this is the only strong and
rational foundation of a religious education, without which both precept and ex-
ample will be ineffectual. But when this is thoroughly done, then a child is ca-
pable of being governed by the reason and piety of its parents, till its own umier-
standing comes to maturity, and the principles of religion have taken root in tre
mini.

Gur children were taught, as soon as they could speak, the Lord’s Prayer,
which they were made to say at rising and bed-time constantly, to which as
they grew bigger were added a short prayer for their parents, and some collects, a
short catechism, and some portion of Scripture, as their memories could bear.
They were very early made to distinguish the Sabbath from other days, before
they could well speak or go. They were as soon taught to be still at family
prayers, and to ask a blessing immediately after, which they used to do by signs
before they could kneel or speak.

They were quickly made to understand they might have nothing they cried for.
They were not suffered to ask even the lowest servant for aught without saying,
‘Pray give me such a thing;” and the servant was chid if she ever let them omit
that word. ,

- Taking God’s name in vain, cursing and swearing, profanity, obscenity, rude,
ill-bred names, were never heard among them; nor were they ever permitted to
call each other by their proper names without the addition of brother or sister.

There was no such thing as loud talking or playing allowed of, but every one
was kept close to business for the six hours of school. And it is almost incredible
what a child may be taught in a quarter of a year by a vigorous application, if it
have but a tolerable capacity and good health. Kezzy excepted, all could read
better in that time than the most of women can do as long as they live.

For some years we went on very well. Never were children in better order.
Never were children better disposed to piety, or in more subjection to their par-
ents, till that fatal dispersion of them after the fire into several families. In thuse
they were left at full liberty to converse with servants, which before they had
always been restrained from, and to run abroad to play with any children, good or
bad. They soon learned to neglect a strict observance of the Sabbath, and got
knowledge of several songs and bad things which before they had no notion of.
That civil behavior which made them admired when they were at home by all
who saw them was in a great measure lost, and a clownish accent and many rude
ways were learnt, which were not reformed without some difficulty.

When the house was rebuilt, and the children all brought home, we entered on
a strict reform; and then was begun the custom of singing psalms at beginning
ap.il leaving school, morning and evening. Then also that of a general retirernent
at five.o’clock was entered upon, when the oldest took the youngest that could
speak, and the second the next, to whom they read the psalms for the day and a
chapter in the New Testament—as in the morning they were directed to read the
psalms and a chapter in the Old Testament, after which they went to their pri-
vate prayers, before they got their breakfast or came into the familv.
42 History of Methodism.

 

There were several by-laws observed among us.

First. It had been observed that cowardice and fear of punishment often lead
children into lying, till they get a custom of it which they cannot leave. To pre-
vent this, a law was made that whoever was charged with a fault of which they
were guilty, if they would ingenuously confess it and promise to amend, should
not be beaten. This rule prevented a great deal of lying.

Second. That no sinful action, as lying, pilfering, disobedience, quarreling, etc.,
should ever pass unpunished.

Third. That no child should be ever chid or beat twice for the same fault, and
that if they amended they should never be upbraided with it afterward. ;

Fourth. That every signa: act of obedience, especially when it crossed upon
their own inclinations, should be always commended.

Fifth. That if ever any child performed an act of obedience, or did any thing
with an intention to please, though the performance was not well, yet the obedi-
ence and intention should be kindly accepted and the child with sweetness di-
rectéd how to do better for the future.

Sixth. That propriety be inviolably preserved, and none suffered to invade the
property of another in the smallest matter, though it were but of the value of a
farthing, or a pin, which they might not take from the owner without, much less
against, his consent. This rule can never be too much inculcated on the minds of
children; and from the want of parents or governors doing it as they ought pro
ceeds that shameful neglect of justice which we may observe in the world.

The day before a child began to study, the house was set
in order, every one’s work appointed, and a charge given that
none should come into the room from nine till twelve, or from
two till five, which were the school-hours. One day was allowed
the pupil to learn his letters, and each of them did in that time
know them all except two, who were a day and a half at the task,
“for which,” she says, “I then thought them very dull.” Sam-
uel, who was the first child thus taught, learned the alphabet in
a few hours. The day after he was five years old he began to
study, and as soon as he knew the letters he proceeded to spell
out the first chapter of Genesis. The same method was ob-
served by them all.*

Book-knowledge was only a part of the course of education
embraced by Mrs. Wesley’s system. She knew that for the
truths of the gospel to find a lodgment in the heart they must
be personally and directly applied. For this purpose she ar-

 

*Samuel, the eldest son, was born whilst Mr. Wesley was a curate in London,
five other children—all daughters—of whom three died, were born at South Orms-
by; and afterward thirteen more were born at Epworth. Of the whole, three
boys, Samuel, John, and Charles; and seven girls, Emilia, Susanna, Mary, Mehet-
abel, Anne, Martha, and Keziah, reached maturity, and were all married, except
the last.
Mrs. Wesley and the Curate. 43

 

ranged a special private conference with each child once in every
week. Her own account of this plan is thus expressed: “I take
such a portion of time as I can best spare every night to discourse
with each child by itself on something that relates to its princi-
pal concerns. On Monday I talk with Molly, on Tuesday with
Hetty, Wednesday with Nancy, Thursday with Jacky, Friday
with Patty, Saturday with Charles, and with Emilia and Sukey
together on Sunday.” These conversations disclosed to the
mother the real thoughts and feelings of her children respecting
personal religion.*

Nearly twenty years afterward, John Wesley, at Oxford, was,
by correspondence, inquiring for direction from his mother on the
subject of a complete renunciation of the world. Urging his
claim for just a little time to be given by her to this point, he
says in his letter: “In many things you have interceded for me
and prevailed. Who knows but in this too you may be success-
ful? If you can spare me only that little part of Thursday even-
ing which you formerly bestowed upon me in another manner, I
doubt not it would be as useful now for correcting my heart as
it was then for forming my judgment.”

On three several occasions, Samuel Wesley was elected proc-
tor, or convocation man, for the diocese of Lincoln. These at-
tendances at convocation brought upon him an expenditure of
£150, which he could ill afford to bear. Being so much in Lon-
don, he required a curate to supply his place at Epworth. On
one occasion, when Wesley returned from London, the parishion-
ers complained that the curate had “preached nothing to his
congregation except the duty of paying their debts and behaving
well among their neighbors.” The complainants added: “We
think, sir, there is more in religion than this.” The rector re-
plied: “There certainly is; I will hear him myself.” The curate
was sent for, and was told that he must preach next Lord’s-day,
the rector at the same time saying: “I suppose you can prepare
a sermon upon any text I give you.” “Yes, sir,” replied the
ready curate. “Then,” said Wesley, “prepare a sermon on He.
brews xi. 6, ‘Without faith it is impossible to please God.’” The
time arrived, and the text being read with great solemnity, the
curate began his brief sermon, by saying: “Friends, faith is a
most excellent virtue, and it produces other virtues also. In par-

*Stevenson’s Memorials of the Wesley Familv.
44 History of Methodism.

 

ticular, it makes « man pay his debts;” and thus he fell into the
worn rut and kept on to the end.

It is not likely that the ministry of such a man would satisfy
the enlightened mind and religious heart of Susanna Wesley;
nor is it to be wondered at that she should try to supply its de-
fects by reading to her children and to her neighbors, on Sunday
evenings, the best sermons to be found in her husband’s library.
The congregations of the rector’s wife were probably larger
than those of the rector’s curate. Inman heard of these gather-
ings, and wrote the rector, complaining that Mrs. Wesley, in his
absence, had turned the parsonage into a conventicle; that the
Church was likely to be scandalized by such irregular proceed-
ings, and that they ought not to be tolerated. Mr. Wesley wrote
to his wife; and an extract from her reply gives us a hint of his
objections and a history of her irregular way of doing good:

I heartily thank you for dealing so plainly and faithfully with me in a matter
of no common concern. The main of your objections against our Sunday evening
meetings are, first, that it will look particular; secondly, my sex.

As to its looking particular, I grant it does; and so does almost every thing that
is serious, or that may any way advance the glory of God or the salvation of souls,
if it be performed out of a pulpit, or in the way of common conversation; because
in our corrupt age the utmost care and diligence have been used to banish all dis-
course of God or spiritual concerns out of society, as if religion were never to ap-
pear out of the closet, and we were to be ashamed of nothing so much as of pro-
fessing ourselves to be Christians. To your second, I reply that as I am a woman
so I am also mistress of a large family. And though the superior charge of the
souls contained in it lies upon you, as head of the family, and as their minister,
yet in your absence I cannot but look upon every soul you leave in my care as a tal-
ent committed to me, under a trust, by the great Lord of all the families of heaven
and earth. I thought it my duty to spend some part of the day in reading to and
instructing my family, especially in your absence, when, having no afternoon serv-
ice, we have so much leisure for such exercises; and such time I esteem spent in
a way more acceptable to God than if I had retired to my own private devotions.
This was the beginning of my present practice; other people coming in and join-
ing with us was purely accidental. Our lad told his parents—they first desired t:
be admitted; then others who heard of it begged leave also. I chose the best and
most awakening sermons we had. Last Sunday, I believe, we had above two hun-
dred hearers, and yet many went away for want of room. We banish all temporal
concerns from our society; none is suffered to mingle any discourse about them
with our reading and singing. We keep close to the business of the day, and aa
soon as it is over they all go home. And where is the harm of this? As for your
proposal of letting some other person read, alas! you do not consider what a peo-
ple these are. I do not think one man among them could read a sermon without
spelling a good part of it; and how would that edify the rest? . . . . Ifyou
Burning of Epworth Parsonage. 45

 

do, after all, think fit to dissolve this assembly, do not tell me that you desire me
to do it, for that will not satisfy my conscience; but send me your positive command,
in such full and express terms as may absolve me from all guilt and punishment,
for neglecting this opportunity of doing good, when you and I shall appear before
the great and awful tribunal of our Lord Jesus Christ.

It has been well remarked that when, in this characteristic
letter, she said, “Do not tell me that you desire me to do it, but
send me your positive command,” Susanna Wesley was bringirg
to its place a corner-stone of the future Methodism. John and
Charles Wesley were present at these irregular meetings— the
first Methodist meetings ever held—Charles a child of four years
old, and John a boy of nine.

On February 9, 1709, at midnight, when all the family were in
bed, Samuel Wesley was startled by a cry of fire, out-of-doors.
His wife and her eldest daughters rose as quickly as possible.
He then burst open the nursery door, where in two beds were
sleeping five of his children and their nurse. The nurse seized
Charles, the youngest, and bid the others follow. Three of the
children did as they were bidden; but John (six years old) was
left sleeping. The wind drove the fames inward with such vio.
lence that egress seemed impossible. Some of the children now
escaped through the windows, and the rest through a little door
into the garden. Mrs. Wesley was not in a condition either to
zlimb to the windows or get to the garden door; and, ill clad as
she was, she was compelled to force her way to the main entrance
through the fury of the flames, which she did, suffering no fur-
ther harm than scorching.

When Mr. Wesley was counting heads to see if all his fam-
ily were safe, he heard a cry issuing from the nursery, and found
that John was wanting. He attempted to ascend the stairs, but
they were all on fire, and were insufficient to bear his weight.
Finding it impossible to render help, he knelt down and com-
mended the soul of his child to God. Meanwhile the child had
mounted a chest which stood near the window, and a person in
the yard saw him, ind proposed running to fetch a ladder. An-
other seeing there was no time for that, proposed to fix himself
against the wall, and that a lighter man should be set upon his
shoulders. This was done—the child was pulled through the
window; and, at the same instant, the roof fell with a fearful
crash, but fortunately fell inward, and thus the two men and
the rescued child were saved from perishing. When the child
46 History of Methodism.

 

was taken to an adjoining house, the devout rector cried: “Come,
neighbors, let us kneel down; let us give thanks to God; he has
given me all my eight children; let the house go; I am rich
enough.” The memory of his deliverance, on this occasion, is
preserved in one of John’s early portraits, which has below the
head the representation of a house in flames, with the motto,
“Ts not this a brand plucked from the burning?”’*

The rector writes: “When poor Jackey was saved, I could not
believe it till I had kissed him two or three times. My wife
asked, ‘Are your books safe?’ I told her it was not much, now
she and the rest were preserved alive. Mr. Smith, of Gains-
borough, and others, have sent for some of my children. I had
finished my alterations in the ‘Life of Christ’ a little while
since, and transcribed three copies of it; but all is lost. God
be praised! I hope my wife will recover and not miscarry, but
God will give me my nineteenth child. When I came to her
her lips were black. I did not know her. Some of the chil-
dren are a little burned, but not hurt or disfigured. I only got
a small blister on my hand. The neighbors send us clothes, for
it is cold without them.”

Mr. and Mrs. Wesley, aware of their inability to lay up fort-
unes for their children, resolved that they should enjoy the ad-
vantages of educatior. The daughters were well instructed by
their mother; and their three sons were all graduates of the Uni-
versity of Oxford. Samuel Wesley, junior, was educated at
Westminster School; and in 1711 was elected to Christchurch,
Oxford, where he took his degree. He was eminent for his learn-
ing, and was an excellent poet, with great power of satire, and

 

* Because of this-narrow escape, his mother’s mind appears to have been drawn
out with unusual earnestness in concern for John. One of her written medita-
tions, when he was eight years old, shows how much her heart was engaged in
forming his mind for religion. This is the meditation: “Evening, May 17th,
1711. Son John. What shall I render unto the Lord for all his mercies? The
little unworthy praise that I can offer is so mean and contemptible an offering
that I am even ashamed to tender it. But, Lord, accept it for the sake of Christ,
and pardon the deficiency of the sacrifice, I would offer thee myself, and all that
thou hast given me; and J would resolve—O give me grace to do it!—that the
residue of my life shall be devoted to thy service. And I do intend to be more
particularly careful of the soul of this child, that thou hast so mercifully provided
for, than ever I have been; that I may do my endeavor to instill into his mind the
principles of thy true religion, and virtue. Lord, give me grace to do it sincerely
and prudently, and bless my attempts with good success!”
The Wesley Brothers at School. 47

 

an elegant wit. He held a considerable rank among the literary
men of the day.* :

As a High-churchman, he greatly disapproved of the conduct
of his brothers when they began to itinerate. He also objected
to the doctrines they preached. Probably the last letter written
by his trenchant pen was in reply to one sent him from Bristol
by his brother, dated May 10th, 1739, in which he gives instances
of instantaneous conversion resulting from his preaching in
that city. Doubting Samuel wrote to John: “I must ask a few
more questions. Did these agitations ever begin during the use
of any collects of the Church, or during the preaching of any ser-
mon that had been preached within consecrated walls without
that effect, or during ths inculcating any other doctrine besides
that of your new birth?”

Charles was sent to Westminster School in the year 1716, be-
ing then eight years of age. John had then been about two
years at the Charterhouse School in London. At Westminster,
Charles was placed under the care of his brother Samuel, who
was one of the ushers in that establishment, and, for a time, bore
the expense of Charles’s maintenance and education. Samuel
made him an excellent classical scholar and a “Churchman.”

When John was at the Charterhouse, the elder boys were ac-
customed, in addition to their other tyranny, to take the portions
of animal food provided for the younger scholars. In conse-
quence of this he was limited for a considerable time to a small
daily portion of bread as his only solid food. There was one
thing, however, which contributed to his general flow of health,
and to the establishment of his constitution; and that was his
invariable attention to a strict command of his father that he
should run round the Charterhouse garden, which was of con.
siderable extent, three times every morning.

From early childhood he was remarkable for his sober and
studious disposition, and seemed to feel himself answerable to
his reason and conscience for every thing he did. Such was his
consistency of conduct that his father admitted him to the com-

 

*In 1736 he published a quarto volume of poetry. Among these pieces we
have a paraphrase on Isaiah x1. 6-8, occasioned by the death of a young lady, and
which is found in the hymn-books, beginning, “The morning flowers display their
sweets.” He was also the author of, “The Lord of Sabbath let us praise;” “Hail
God the Son, in glory crown’d;” “Hail, Holy Ghost, Jehovah, third;” “The Sun
of righteousness appears,” etc.
48 Estory of Methodism.

 

munion-table when he was only eight years old. Between the
age of eight and nine the small-pox attacked him. At the time
his father was in London, and his mother writing him remarks:
“Jack has borne his disease bravely, like a man, and indeed like
a Christian, without complaint.” The great privilege of being a
Charterhouse scholar he owed to a nobleman’s friendship for his
father. There he remained six years, making such progress that
in 1720 he was elected on this foundation to Christchurch, Ox-
ford, one of the noblest colleges in that illustrious seat of learn-
ing; and here he continued until after his ordination in 1725.
In reference to this period he writes: “I still said my prayers,
both in public and private, and read with the Scriptures several
other books of religion, especially comments on the New Testa-
ment. Yet I had not all this while so much as a notion of inward
holiness; nay, went on habitually and, for the most part, very
contentedly in some or other known sin—though with some in-
termission and short struggles, especially before and after the
holy communion, which I was obliged to receive thrice a year.”

He often struggled with financial difficulty, and more than
once, when requesting his sisters to write to him, playfully re-
marks that though he was “so poor,” he “would be able to spare
the postage for » letter now and then.” The £40 per annum
which belonged to him as a Charterhouse scholar was barely suf-
ficient to meet all the expenses of a young Oxford student of that
day. His financial embarrassments are often and painfully re-
ferred to in the family correspondence.

From the age of eleven to twenty-one, John Wesley’s religious
experience seems to have suffered much loss. He was now the
gay and sprightly young man, with a turn for wit and humor.
He had already begun to amuse himself occasionally with writ-
ing verses, some in a vein of trifling elegance, others either im-
itations or translations of the Latin. Once, however, he wrote
an imitation of the sixty-fifth Psalm, which he sent to his father,
who said: “T like your verses on the sixty-fifth Psalm, and would
not have you bury your talent.”

Of his steadfastness in orthodox views there can be no doubt.
Infidelity was all abroad, even in his college; but it seems not
to have touched him. Occasionally the leaven of Pharisaism
wrought in him, but he had in him nothing of the vulgar, mate-
tialistic Sadduces. His faculty of belief was sound and soundly
John a Student of Divinity. 49

 

exercised. Conscience, however tender, was never allowed to in-
trude into the office of judgment. The patience and fairness with
which he inquired into, and reported, many things made the im-
pression on some that he believed them all.*

There is no evidence that when John Wesley went to Oxford
he intended to become a minister of the Established Church.
He might intend to devote himself, like his brother Samuel, to
tutership; or he might contemplate some other mode of mainte-
nance. Certain it is that it was not until about the beginning
of 1725, when he had been more than four years at college, that
he seems to have been seriously exercised on the subject. The
thought of obtaining ordination gave an abrupt turn to his stud-

 

*The ghost-story has entered into all Wesleyan biographies. It was during
John’s residence at the Charterhouse that mysterious noises were heard in Ep-
worth rectory. The often told story need not be repeated; but there can be no
question that the Charterhouse youth was impressed. He took the trouble of ob
taining minute particulars from his mother, and his four sisters, and others, com-
petent. witnesses. The learned Priestley obtained the family letters and journals
relating to these curious fac.4, and gave them to the world as the best authenticated
and best told story of the kind extant. They call to mind things described by
Cotton Mather, in the witchcraft of New England. Sometimes moans were heard,
as from a person dying; at others, it swept through the halls and along the stairs,
with the sound of a person trailing a loose gown on the floor; the chamber walls,
meanwhile, shook with vibrations. Before “Jeffrey” (as the children called it)
came into any room, the latches were frequently lifted up, and the windows clat-
tered. It seemed to clap the doors, draw the curtains, and throw the man-servant’s
shoes up and down. Once it threw open the nursery door. The mastiff barked
violently at it the first day, yet whenever it came afterward he ran off whining,
to shelter himself. These noises continued about two months, and occurred, the
latter part of the time, every day. The family soon came to consider them amus-
ing freaks, as they were never attended with any serious harm; they all, never-
theless, deemed them preternatural. Adam Clarke believed them to be demoniacai.
It was evidently, says Southey, a Jacobite goblin, and seldom suffered Mr. Wesley
to pray for the Hanover king without disturbing the family. John says it gave
“thundering knocks” at the Amen, and the loyal rector, waxing angry at the in-
sult, soraetimes repeated the prayer with defiance. Priestley supposed them a trick
of the servants. Isaac Taylor thinks that the strange Epworth episode so laid
open Wesley’s faculty of belief that ever after a right-of-way for the supernatural
was opened through his mind to the end of life. Southey argues that such occur-
rences have a tendency to explode the fine-spun theories of materialists who deny
another state of being, and to bring men to the conclusion that there are more
things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in their philosophy. Tyerman
says: “We have little doubt that the Epworth noises deepened and most power.
fully increased Wesley’s convictions of the existence of an unseen world, and it
this way, exercised an important influence on the whole of his future life.”
Qn

0 History of Methodism.

 

ies and his manner of life. He consulted his parents, and both
gave characteristic advice. His father, beginning thus, “As to
what you mention of entering into holy orders, it is indeed a
great work, and I am pleased to find you think it so,” hints that
in his judgment it was rather too early for his son to take that
solemn obligation on him, and advises that he perfect himself in
Hebrew, etc. His mother urges her son “to greater application
in the study of practical divinity, which, of all other studies, ]
humbly conceive to be the best for candidates for orders,” and
concludes by saying that she had noticed of late an alteration in
his temper, and trusted that it might proceed from the operations
of the Holy Ghost. She exhorts him:

And now, in good earnest, resolve to make religion the business of your life;
for, after all, that is the one thing which, strictly speaking, is necessary; all things
koside are comparatively little to the purposes of life. I heartily wish you would
now enter upon a strict examination of yourself, that you may know whether you
have a reasonable hope of salvation by Jesus Christ. If you have, the satisfaction
of knowing it will abundantly reward your pains; if you have not, you will find »
more reasonable occasion for tears than can be met with in a tragedy.

This excellent advice was not lost upon him; and, indeed, his
mother’s admirable letters were among the principal means, un-
der God, of producing that still more decided change in his views
which soon afterward began to display itself. The young scholar
threw his whole strength into his work, and devoted himself with
intense diligence to the study of practical divinity, giving spe-
cial attention to those books which were likely to guide him toa
sound judgment in spiritual matters, and to lead his affections
toward God With this view he carefully studied Thomas 4
Kempis on “The Imitation of Christ,” Bishop Taylor’s “ Rules
of Holy Living and Dying,” and William Law’s “Serious Call
to a Devout and Holy Life.” From these impressive books he
learned that true religion does not consist in orthodox opinions,
nor in coriect moral conduct, nor in conformity to the purest
modes of worship, necessary as these things are in their place:
but in the possession and exercise of the mind that was in Christ.
He was anxious, beyond expression, to attain inward and out-
ward holiness as the great end of his being. Wesley writes:

1 began to see that true religion was seated in the heart, and that God’s law
extended to all our thoughts as well as words and actions. I was, however, angry

at Kempis for being too strict; though I read him only in Dean Stanhope’s trans-
lation. Yet I had frequently much sensible comfort in reading him, such as I was
John a Student of Divinity. . O61

 

an utter stranger to before. Meeting likewise with a religious friend, which I
never had till now, I began to alter the whole form of my conversation, and to set in
earnest upon a new life. I set apart an hour or two a day for religious retirement.
i communicated every week. I watched against all sin, whether in word or deed.
I began to aim at, and to pray for, inward holiness. So that now, doing so much
and living so good a life, I doubted not that I was a good Christian.

In reference to Taylor’s “Holy Living and Dying,” he ob-
S3rves:

In reading several parts of this book, I was exceedingly affected; that part ir
particular which relates to purity of intention. Instantly I resolved to dedicate
all my life to God—all my thoughts, and words, and actions—being thoroughly
convinced there was no medium; but that every part of my life (not some only)
must either be a sacrifice to God, or myself—that is, in effect, the devil.

But some of Taylor’s opinions provoked the dissent of the de-
’ yout student, and led him more definitely to doctrines which were

to be vital in the theology of Methodism. The Bishop, in com-
mon with most theologians of his day, denied that the Christian
could usually know his acceptance with God. Wesley replied:
“Tf we dwell in Christ, and Christ in us (which he will not do
unless we are regenerate), certainly we must be sensible of it.
If we can never have any certainty of our being in a state of
salvation, good reason it is that every moment should be spent,
not in joy, but in fear and trembling; and then, undoubtedly, in
this life we are of all men most miserable.”

He is feeling after the doctrine of assurance. His mother, to
whom his difficulties were stated, omits to afford him any assist-
ance on the point of the possibility of obtaining a comfortable
persuasion of being in a state of salvation, through the influence
of the Holy Spirit; which he supposed to be the privilege of a
real believer, though as yet he was greatly perplexed as to the
means of attaining it. She says:

I don’t well understand what he [Taylor] means by saying, “Whether God
has forgiven us or no, we know not.” If he intends such a certainty of pardon as
cannot possibly admit of the least doubt or scruple, he is infallibly in the right;
for such an absolute certainty we can never have till we come to heaven. But if
he means no more than that reasonable persuasion of the forgiveness of sins, which
a true penitent feels when he reflects on the evidences of his own sincerity, he is
certainly in the wrong, for such a firm persuasion is actually enjoyed by a man in
this life. The virtues which we have by the grace of God acquired are not of so
little force as he supposes; for we may surely perceive when we have them in any
good degree.

Mother and son had not yet distinguished between the witness

of our own spirit and the witness of the Spirit itself. In his re-
52 History of Methodism.

 

ply he makes the important distinction between assurance of
present and assurance of future salvation; by confounding which,
so many, from their objection to the Calvinistic notion of the in-
fallible perseverance of the saints, have given up the doctrine of
assurance altogether:

That we can never be so certain of the pardon of our sins as to be assured they
will never rise up against us, I firmly believe. We know that they will infallibly
do so if ever we apostatize; and I am not satisfied what evidence there can he cf
our final perseverance till we have finished our course. But I am persuaded we
may know if we are now in a state of salvation, since that is expressly promised
in the Holy Scriptures to our sincere endeavors; and we are surely able to judge
of our own sincerity.

The latter part of this extract will, however, show how much
he had yet to learn in Methodist theology.

On the witness of the Spirit he is not so clear as he is in
his dissent from the tenet of “final perseverance.” The time
approaches for ordination, and he is naturally exercised over the
article on predestination. He wrote:

As I understand faith to be an assent to any truth upon rational grounds, I do
not think it possible, without perjury, to swear I believe any thing unless I have
reasonable grounds for my persuasion. Now, that which contradicts reason cannot
be said to stand upon reasonable grounds; and such, undoubtedly, is every propo-
sition which is incompatible with the divine justice or mercy. What, then, shall
I say of predestination? If it was inevitably decreed from eternity that a dete:-
minate part of mankind should be saved, and none besides, then a vast majority of
the world were only born to eternal death, without so much as a possibility of
avoiding it. How is this consistent with either divine justice or mercy? Is it mer-
ciful to ordain a creature to everlasting misery? Is it just to punish a man for
crimes which he could not but commit? That God should be the author of sin and
injustice, which must, I think, be the consequence of maintaining this opinion, isa
contradiction to the clearest ideas we have of the divine nature and perfections.

His mother confirmed him in these views, and expressed hei
abhorrence of the Calvinistic theology. Meanwhile she tried to
solve some of his scruples respecting the article on predestina-
tion; and wrote him a long letter, from which we give the follow-
ing extracts:

Such studies tend more to confound than to inform the understanding, and
young people had better let them alone. But since I find you have some scruples
concerning our article, Of Predestination, I will tell you my thoughts of the mat-
ter. If they satisfy not, you may desire your father’s direction, who is surely bet-
ter qualified for a casuist than I.

‘The doctrine of predestination, as maintained by the rigid Calvinists, is very
shocking, and ought to be abhorred, because it directly charges the Most High God
with being the author of sin. I think you reason well and justly against it; for it
Ordained Deacon. 53

 

is certainly inconsistent with the justice and goodness of God to lay any man under
either a physical or moral necessity of committing sin, and then to punish him for
doing it. I firmly believe that God, from eternity, has elected some to eternal life;
but then I humbly conceive that this election is founded on his foreknowledge,
according to Romans viii. 29, 30. Whon, in his eternal prescience, God saw would.
nake a right use of their powers, and accept of offered mercy, he did predestinate
and adupt for his children. And that they may be conformed to the image of his
enly Sun, he calls them to himself, through the preaching of the gospel, and, in-
ternally by his Holy Spirit; which call they obeying, repenting of their sins and
believing in the Lord Jesus, he justifies them, absolves them from the guilt of all
their sins, and acknowledges them as just and righteous persons, through the mer-
its and mediation of Jesus Christ. And having thus justified, he receives them
to glory—to heaven.

This is the sum of what I believe concerning predestination, which I think is
agreeable to the analogy of faith; since it does in nowise derogate from the glory
of God’s free grace, nor impair the liberty of man. Nor can it with more reason
be supposed that the prescience of God is the cause that so many finally perish
than that our knowing the sun will rise to-morrow is the cause of its rising.

John Wesley substantially adopted these predestinarian views,
as may be seen in his sermon on the text expounded in the fore-
going letter; but his notions of that faith by which a sinner is
justified were, at present, far from being clear.

The time for his ordination was now at hand, and the
money question required attention. His father writes: “I will
assist you in the charges for ordination, though I am myself
just now struggling for life. The £8 you may depend on this
next week, or the week after.” And John Wesley was ordained
deacon, September 19, 1725.

[Tae materials of this Chapter are drawn chiefly from Whitehead’s Life of Wesley;
Stevens's History of Methodism; and Tyerman’s Life and Times of Rev. John Wesley, M.A.)

D
CHAPTER IV.

The Fellowship—His Father's Curate—Cutting Off Acquaintances—t harlee
Awakened—The Holy Club—Whitefield and Other Members—Original Meth
odists—What Lack I Yet?

IX months after his ordination, one of the fellowships of Lin-
kh) coln College being vacant, Wesley became a candidate for it
His previous seriousness had been the subject of much banter
and ridicule, and appears to have been urged against him in the
election by his opponents; but his reputation for learning and
diligence, and the excellence of his character, triumphed. Here
again money was wanted to bear the expenses of installation, and
the father, as usual, strained himself to help. The academic dis-
tinction achieved was most gratifying to the family, and the sub-
stantial income attached to the fellowship put an end to his
wants. Wesley hereafter could maintain himself comfortably,
and help others also. Henceforth, he said, he “was entirely
free from worldly cares, for his income was ready for him on
stated days, and all he had to do was to count it and carry it
home.” His mother, with a full heart, thanked Almighty God
for his “good success;” and his exultant father wrote:

Dear Mr. Fettow Evect or Lincoun: I have done more than I could for
you. The last £12 pinched me so hard that I am forced to beg time of your
brother Sam till after harvest, to pay him the £10 that you say he lent you. Nor
shall I have as much as that, perhaps not £5, to keep my family till after har-
vest; and I do not expect that I shall be able to do any thing for Charles when
he goes to the university. What will be my own fate God only knows. Sed pass
si graviora. Wherever I am, my Jack is fellow of Lincoln.

His literary character was now established at the university.
All parties acknowledged him to be a man of talents and of
learning; while his skill in logic was known to be remarkable.
The result was that though he was only in the twenty-third year
of his age, he was, in November following, elected Greek lecturer
and moderator of the classes. ’

Wesley, about this period, undertook to rid himself of unprof-
itable acquaintances. He writes:

When it pleased God to give me a settled resolution to be not a nominal
but a real Christian (being then about twenty-two years of age), my acquaint-
(54)
Charles at Christchurch College. 55

 

ance were as ignorant of God as myself. But there was this difference—]
knew my own ignorance; they did not know theirs. I faintly endeavored to help
them, but in vain. Meantime I found, by sad experience, that even their harmless
vonversation, so called, damped all my good resolutions. I saw no possible way
of getting rid of them unless it should please God to remove me to another col-
lege. He did so, in a manner utterly contrary to all human probability. I was
elected fellow of a college [Lincoln] where I knew not one person. I foresaw
abundance of people would come to see me, either out of friendship, civility, or
suriosity; and that I should have offers of acquaintance new and old; but I had
iow fixed my plan. I resolved to have no acquaintance by chance, but by choice;
and to choose such only as would help me on my way to heaven. In consequence
of this, I narrowly observed the temper and behavior of all that visited me. J
saw no reason to think that the greater part of these truly loved or feared God;
therefore, when any of them came to see me, I behaved as courteously as I could;
but :o the question, “When will you come to see me?” I returned no answer
When they had come a few times, and found I still declined returning the visit, I
saw them no more. And I bless God this has been my invariable rule for about
three-score years. I knew many reflections would follow, but that did not move
me, as I knew full well it was my calling to go through evil report and good
report.

He laid down a severe and systematic course of study, took
pupils, wrote sermons, kept fast-days, and was much in prayer.
The rector of Epworth became less able than formerly to attend
to the duties of his parish, and earnestly desired his son John to
assist him as his curate. He complied with his father’s wishes,
and left Oxford for this purpose in August, 1727; and only for
priest’s orders and Master’s degree did he visit Oxford during
the next two years. He labored diligently.

What were the results? Wesley himself shall tell us: “I
preached much, but saw no fruit of my labor. Indeed, it could not
be that I should; for I neither laid the foundation of repentance
nor of believing the gospel; taking it for granted that all to
whom I preached were believers, and that many of them needed
no repentance.” Meanwhile Charles, five years his junior, had
been elected to Christchurch College, and entered it about the
time John left it. For some months after his arrival in Oxford,
{hough very agreeable in his spirit and manners, he was far from
being earnest in his application to study; the strict authority
over him which his brother Samuel exercised, as his tutor and
guardian, being now withdrawn. He says: “My first year at
college I lost in diversions; the next I set myself to study.’
“He pursued his studies diligently,” says John, “and led a reg-
ular. harmless life; butif I spoke to him about religion, he would
56 fistory of Methodism.

 

warmly answer, ‘ What, would you have me to be a saint all at
once?’ and would hear no more.” *

Such was the state of the two brothers when John left Oxford
to become his father’s curate. But soon after that event, and
apparently without the intervention of any particular means,
Charles Wesley also became deeply serious, and earnestly de-
sired to be a spiritual worshiper of God. Believing that the
keeping of a diary would further his designs, and knowing that
his brother had kept such a record for some years, he wrote to
him, requesting his advice:

I would willingly write a diary of my actions, but do not know how to go
about it. What particulars am I to take notice of? . . . . Ifyou would
direct me to the same or like method to your own I would gladly follow it, fo
I am fully convinced of the usefulness of such an undertaking. I shall be at
a stand till I hear from you. . . . . I firmly believe that God will establish
what he hath begun in me; and there is no one person I would so willingly have
to be the instrument of good to me as you. It is owing, in great measure, to
somebody’s prayers (my mother’s, most likely) that I am come to think as I do:
for I cannot tell myself how or when I awoke out of my lethargy; only that it
was nut long after you went away.f

This letter was written in the beginning of 1729.

No sooner had Charles Wesley become devout than he longed
to be useful to those about him. He began to attend the weekly
sacrament, and induced two or three other students to attend
with him. The regularity of their behavior led a young colle-
gian to call them Methodists; and “as the name was new and
quaint, it clave to them immediately, and from that time all that
had any connection with them were thus distinguished.” +

 

* The Oxford Methodists. +The Life and Times of Rev. John Wesley, A.M.

{The name was in use in England long before it was applied to Wesley and
his friends. In 1693 a pamphlet was published with the title, “A War among
the Angels of the Churches: wherein is shewed the Principles of the New Meth-
odists in the great point of Justification. By a Country Professor of Jesus Christ.”
And even as early as 1639, in a sermon preached at Lambeth, the following per-
furned eloquence occurs: “ Where are now our Anabaptists, and plain, pack-staff
Methodists, who esteem all flowers of rhetoric in sermons no better than stinking
weeds, and all elegance of speech no better than profane spells?” Wesley’s own
definition, as found in his Dictionary, published in 1753: “A Methodist—one that
lives according to the method laid down in the Bible.” “The name of Method-
ist,” it is observed by one of Wesley’s correspondents, “is not a new name never
before given to any religious people. Dr. Calamy, in one of his volumes of the
ejected ministers, observes, They called those who stood up for God, Methodists.”
The First Methodists. 57

 

The duties of his fellowship recalled John from the country
late in 1729, and the rector of Lincoln put eleven pupils under
his care immediately. ‘In this employ,” he says, “I continued
till 1735, when I went as a missioner to Georgia.” On his return
to Oxford he naturally took the lead of the little band of Meth-
odists. They rallied round him at once, feeling his fitness to
direct them. He was their master-spirit, and soon compacted
the organization and planned new methods of living and work-
ing. The first Methodists were the two Wesleys, with Robert
Kirkham and William Morgan. To these were subsequently
added Whitefield, Clayton, Broughton, Ingham, Hervey, White-
lamb, Hall, Gambold, Kinchin, Smith, Salmon, Wogan, Boyce,
Atkinson, and others. Some of them made history. John Gam-
bold became a Moravian bishop, but like the leaders of the Holy
Club, it was not until after years of laborious endeavor to estab-
lish a righteousness of his own that he was led to submit to
‘the righteousness of God, by faith of Jesus Christ.’ He gives
nu original and inside view of the organization:

About the middle of March, 1730, I became acquainted with Mr. Charles Wes-
ley of Christ College. I was just then come up from the country, and had made
a resolution to find out some pious persons to keep company with. I had been,
for two years before, in deep melancholy. No man did care for my soul; or none
at least understood its paths. One day an old acquaintance entertained me with
some reflections on the whimsical Mr. Wesley, his preciseness and pious extrava-
gances. Upon hearing this, I suspected he might bea good Christian. I therefore
went to his room, and without any ceremony desired the benefit of his conversation.
Thad so large a share of it henceforth that hardly a day passed, while I was at col-
lege, but we were together once, if not oftener. After some time he introduced
me to his brother John, of Lincoln College. “For,” said he, “he is somewhat
older than I, and can resolve your doubts better.” This, as I found afterward,
was a thing which he was deeply sensible of; for I never observed any person
have a more real deference for another than he constantly had for his brother.

I shall say no more of Charles, but that he was a man made for friendship; who,
by his cheerfulness and vivacity, would refresh his friend’s heart; and by a habit
of opeuness and freedom, leave no room for misunderstanding.

The Wesleys were already talked of for some religious practices, which were
first occasioned by Mr. Morgan, of Christchurch. From these combined friends
began a little society; for several others, from time to time, fell in; most of them
only to be improved by their serious and useful discourse; and some few espous-
ing all their resolutions and their whole way of life.

Mr. John Wesley was always the chief manager, for which he was very fit; for
he not only had more learning and experience than the rest, but he was blest with
such activity as to be always gaining ground, and such steadiness that he lost none.
What proposals he made to any were sure to charm them, because he was so much

d
58 History of Methodism.

 

in earnest; nor could they afterward slight them, because they saw him always the
same. To this 1 may add that he had, I think, something of authority in his
countenance; though, as he did not want address, he could soften his manner, and
point it as occasion required.

It was their custom to meet most evenings either at his chamber or one of the
others, where, after some prayers (the chief object of which was charity), they ate
their supper tugether, and he read some book. But the chief business was to re-
view what each had done that day, in pursuance of their common design, and to
consult what steps were to be taken the next. Their undertaking included several
particulars: To converse with young students, to visit the prisons, to instruct some
poor families, and to take care of a school and a parish work-house.

They took great pains with the younger members of the university, to rescue
them from bad company, and encourage them in a sober, studious life. If they
had some interest with any such, they would get them to breakfast, and over a
dish of tea, endeavor to fasten some good hint. . For some years past he and
his friends read the New Testament together at evening. After every portion of
it, having heard the conjectures the rest had to offer, he made his observations on
the phrase, design, and difficult places. One or two wrote these down from his
mouth. He laid much stress upon seii-examination. He taught them to take
account of their actions in a very exact manner by writing «a constant diary.
Ther, to keep in their minds an awful sense of God’s presence, with a constant
dependence on his help, he advised them to ejaculatory prayers. They had a
book of Ejaculations relating to the chief virtues, and /ying by them as they stood
at their studies, they at intervals snatched a short petition out of it. But at last,
ingtead of that variety, they contented themselves with the following aspirations
(containing acts of faith, hope, love, and self-resignation at the end of every hour):
“Consider and hear me,” etc. The last means he recommended was meditation
Their usual time for this was the hour next before dinner. After this he com-
initted them to God. What remained for him to do was to encourage them in the
discomforts and temptations they might feel, and to guard them against all spivit-
ual delusions. In this spiritual care of his acquaintance, Mr. Wesley persisted
amidst all discouragements. He overlooked not only one’s absurd or disagreea-
ble qualities, but even his coldness and neglect of him, if he thought it might be
conquered. He helped one in things out of religion, that he might be more wel-
come to help him in that. His knowledge of the world and his insight into
physic were often of use to us.

A meditative piety did not cover the whole ground of the Ox-
ford Methodists. They studied how to do good in the prisons
and among the poor. Doubtless methods and their results were
often discussed. Gambold continues his account:

When a new prisoner came, their conversation with him for four or five times
was particularly close and searching. Whether he bore no malice toward those
that did prosecute him, or any others? The first time, after professions of good-
will, they only inquired of his circumstances in the world. Such questions
imported friendship, and engaged the man to open his heart. Afterward they
entered unon snch inauiries as most concern a prisoner: Whether he submitted to
The “Holy Club.” 59

 

‘his disposal of Providence; whether he repented of his past life; last of all
they asked him whether he constantly used private prayer, and whether he had
ever communicated. Thns, most or all the prisoners were spoken to in their
turns. But, if any one was either under sentence of death, or appeared to have
some intentions of a new life, they came every day to his assistance; and partook
in the conflict and suspense of those who should now be found able, or not able, to
lay hold on salvation. In order to release those who were confined for small debis,
and were bettered by their affliction, and likewise to purchase books, physic, and
other necessaries, they raised a small fund, to which many of their acquaintance
contributed quarterly. They had prayers at the Castle most Wednesdays and
Fridays, a sermon on Sundays, and the Sacrament once a month. When they un-
dertook any poor family, they saw them at least once a week; sometimes gave them
money, admonished them of their vices, read to them, and examined their chil-
dren. The school was, I think, of Mr. Wesley’s own setting up. At all events,
he paid the mistress and clothed some, if not all, of the children. When they
went thither they inquired how each child behaved, saw their work (for some
could knit and spin), heard them read, heard them their prayers and catechism,
and explained part of it. In the same manner they taught the children in the
work-house, and read to the old people as they did to the prisoners.

Though some practices of Mr. Wesley and his friends were much blamed, they
seldom took any notice of the accusations brought against them; but if they made
any reply it was commonly such a plain and simple one as if there was nothing
more in the case, but that they had heard such doctrines of their Saviour, and be-
lieved and done accordingly.

In August, 1732, Wesley was made a member of “The Society
for the Propagation of Christian Knowledge;” and during his
stay in London, received from Clayton a long letter, a few sen-
tences from which will help to give the reader an insight into
the prison-work of the Oxford Methodists:

All the felons were acquitted, except Salmon, who is to be tried at Warwick;
and the sheep-stealer, who is burnt in the hand, and is a great penitent. Jempro
is discharged, and I have appointed Harris to read to the prisoners in his stead.
Two of the felons likewise have paid their fees and are gone out, both of them
able to read mighty well. There are only two in the gaol who want this accom
plishment—John Clanville, who reads but moderately; and the horse-stealer, who
cannot read at all, though he knows all his letters and can spell most of the mon-
osyllables. J hear them both read three times a week, and I believe Salmon hears
thera so many times daily. The woman, who was a perfect novice, spells tolerably ;
and so does one of the boys; and the other makes shift to read with spelling every
word that is longer than ordinary. They can both say their catechism to the end
of the commandments, and can likewise repeat the morning and evening prayera
for children in Ken’s Manual.*

Tn all this the world saw naught but oddity and folly, and called
these hard-working tutors and godly students “Bible bigots,” and

 

* Tyerman’s Oxford Methodists.
60 History of Methodism.

 

“Bible moths.” In the university John Wesley and his friends
became a common topic of mirth, and were jeeringly designated
“The Holy Club.” John consulted his father, and was encour-
aged: “As to your designs and employments, what can I say less
than Valde probe [I strongly approve]; and that I have the high-
est reason to bless God that he has given me two sons together at
Oxford, to whom he has granted grace and courage to turn the
war against the world and the devil? I hear my son John has
the honor of being styled the ‘Father of the Holy Club;’ if it be
so, I must be the grandfather of it; and I need not say that I
had rather any of my sons should be so dignified and distin-
guished than to have the title of His Holiness.”

Once during John Wesley’s absence from Oxford, the little
vand, through persecution and desertion, was greatly weakened;
at another time he returned to find it reduced from twenty-seven
to five—showing clearly that he was the soul of the movement.
In 1732 James Hervey, author of the “ Meditations,” joined them.
His very popular and peculiar style of writing turned the atten-
tion of the upper classes of society to religious subjects perhaps
more than any other writer of his time. The next year came
George Whitefield. Though they diverged from Wesley after-
ward, they lived, labored, and died “ Methodists.”

Whitefield has left a characteristic account of his connection
with the “Holy Club.’ He was born in 1714, at the Bell Inn,
Bristol. “If I trace myself,’ he says, “from my cradle to my
manhood, I can see nothing in me but a fitness to be damned.”
Yet Whitefield could trace early movings of his heart, which
satisfied him in after-life that “God loved him with an everlast-
ing love, and had separated him even from his mother’s womb,
for the work to which he afterward was pleased to call him.”
He had a devout disposition and a tender heart, so far as these
terms can fitly characterize unregenerate men.

When about fifteen years old he “ put on his blue apron and his
suuffers,” washed mops, cleaned rooms, and became a “common
drawer.” He gave evidence of his natural powers of eloquence in
school declamations, and while in the Bristol Inn composed two
or three sermons. Hearing of the possibility of obtaining an
education at Oxford, as a “poor student,” he prepared himself
aud went thither, and was admitted a servitor of Pembroke Col-
Jege. The Methodists were not only the common butt of Oxford
Experiences of the Oxford Methodist. 6)

 

ridicule, but their fame had spread as far as Bristol before White-
field left his home. He had “loved them,” he tells us, before he
entered the university. He longed to be acquainted with them,
and often watched them passing through the sneering crowds, to
receive the sacrament at St. Mary’s; but he was a poor youth,
the servitor of other students, and shrunk from obtruding him-
self upon their notice. At length a woman, in one of the work-
houses, attempted to cut her throat; and Whitefield, knowing that
both the Wesleys were ready for every good work, sent a poor
aged apple-woman to inform Mr. Charles Wesley of it, charging
her not to discover who sent her. She went, but contrary to
orders told his name, and this led Charles to invite him to break-
fast next morning. He was now introduced to the rest of the
Methodists, and he also, like them, “began to live by rule, and
pick up the very fragments of his time, that not a moment might
be lost.” Being in great distress about his soul, he lay whole
days prostrate on the ground, in silent or vocal prayer; he chose
the worst sort of food; he fasted twice a week; he wore woolen
gloves, a patched gown, and dirty shoes; and, as a penitent,
thought it unbecoming to have his hair powdered.

This neglect of his person lost him patronage and cut off some
of his pay. Charles Wesley lent him a book, “The Life of God
in the Soul of Man;” and he says:

Though I had fasted, watched, and prayed, and received the sacrament so long,
yet I never knew what true religion was, till God sent me that excellent treatise
by the hands of my never-to-be-forgotten friend. In reading that “true religion
was a union of the soul with God, and Christ formed within us,” a ray of divine
light was instantaneously darted in upon my soul; and from that moment, but not
till then, did I know that I must be a new creature. The first thing I was called
to give up for God was what the world calls my fair reputation. Thad no sooner
received the sacrament publicly on a week-day, at St. Mary’s, but I was set up asa
mark for all the polite students that knew me to shoot at. By this they knew that
I was commenced Methodist. Mr. Charles Wesley walked with me, in order to
corfirm me, from the church even to the college. JI confess, to my shame, I would
gladly have excused him; and the next day, going to his room, one of our fellows
passing by, I was ashamed to be seen to knock at his door. But, blessed be Gon,
the fear of man gradually wore off. As I had imitated Nicodemus in his coward.
ice, so, by the divine assistance, I followed him in his courage. I confessed the
Methodists more and more publicly every day. I walked openly with them, and
chose rather to bear contempt with those people of God than to enjoy the applause
of almost-Christians for a season.

It may be inferred, but might as well be stated on the testi-
mony of John Wesley, that it was the practice of the Oxford
62 History of Methodism.

 

Methodists to give away each year all they had after providing
for their own necessities; and then, as an illustration, he adds,
in reference to himself: “One of them had thirty pounds a year.
He lived on twenty-eight, and gave away forty shillings. The
next year, receiving sixty pounds, he still lived on twenty-eight,
and gave away thirty-two. The third year he received ninety
pounds, and gave away sixty-two. The fourth year he received
a hundred and twenty pounds; still he lived as before on twenty-
eight, and gave to the poor all the rest.” Such was the typical
Oxford Methodist.

He maintained the doctrine of apostolical succession, and be-
lieved no one had authority to administer the sacraments who
was not episcopally ordained. He religiously observed saint-days
and holidays, and excluded Dissenters from the holy communion,
on the ground that they had not been properly baptized. He
observed ecclesiastical discipline to the minutest points, and
was scrupulously strict in practicing rubrics and canons.

In fasting, in mortification, in alms-giving, in well-doing, and
by keeping the whole law, he sought purity of heart and peace
of conscience. He was intensely earnest, sincere, and self-deny-
ing. Inall this, while a prodigy of piety in the eyes of man, there
was a felt want of harmony with God, and a feebleness amount-
ing to impotency, in the propagation of his faith among men.
Like one of old, he could say: “I might also have confidence in
the flesh. If any other man thinketh that he hath whereof he
might trust in the flesh, I more.” Sacramentarian, ritualist, le-
gnlist: “What lack I yet?”
CHAPTER V.

Breaking up of the Epworth Family—Death and Widowhood--The Parents -
The Daughters and their History.

HE year 1735 witnessed the breaking up of the two familiea

in which Methodism was born and nursed—one at Epworth
and the other at Oxford. After a faithful ministry of forty-seven
years, Samuel Wesley died in April. He had been manifestly
ripening for his change, and in his last moments had the conso-
lation of the presence of his two sons, John and Charles. From
both of them we have accounts of the death-bed scene.

Charles, writing a long letter two days after the funeral to his
brother Samuel, says: “ You have reason to envy us, who could
attend him in the last stage of his illness. The few words he
could utter I saved, and hope never to forget. Some of them
were: ‘Nothing too much to suffer for heaven. The weaker I am
in body, the stronger and more sensible support I feel from God.
There is but a step between me and death.’ The fear of death
he had entirely conquered, and at last gave up his latest human
desires of finishing Job, paying his debts, and seeing you. He
often laid his hand upon my head and said: ‘Be steady. The
Christian faith will surely revive in this kingdom; you shall see
it, though I shall not.’ To my sister Emily, he said: ‘Do not be
concerned at my death; God will then begin to manifest himself
to my family.’ On my asking him whether he did not find him-
self worse, he replied: ‘O my Charles, I feel a great deal; God
chastens me with strong pain, but I praise him for it, I thank
him for it, I love him for it!’ On the 25th his voice failed him,
and nature seemed entirely spent, when, on my brother’s asking
whether he was not near heaven, he answered distinctly, and
with the most of hope and triumph that could be expressed in
sounds, ‘ Yes, I am.’ He spoke once more, just after my brother
had used the commendatory prayer; his last words were, ‘Now
you have done all!’”

John Wesley, in his sermon on Love, preached at Savannah
1736), adverts to his father’s death: “When asked, not long be-
fore his release, ‘Are the consolations of God small with you?’
he replied aloud, ‘No, no, no!’ and then calling all that were

(63)
64 History of Methodism.

 

near him by their names, he said: ‘Think of heaven, talk of heav-
en; all the time is lost when we are not thinking of heaven.’”

In his controversy with Archbishop Secker (1748), on the doc-
trine of the witness of the Spirit, he cites personal experience:

My father did not die unacquainted with the faith of the gospel, of the primi-
tive Christians, or of our first Reformers; the same which, by the grace of God, I
preach, and which is just as new as Christianity. What he experienced hefore !
know not; but I know that, during his last illness, which continued eight months,
he enjoyed a clear sense of his acceptance with God. I heard him express it more
than once, although, at that time, I understood him not. “The inward witness,
son, the inward witness,” said he to me, “that is the proof, the strongest proof of
Christianity.” And when I asked him (the time of his change drawing nigh),
“Sir, are you in much pain?” he answered aloud with a smile: “God does chas-
ten me with pain—yea, all my bones with strong pain; but I thank him for all, I
bless him for all, I iove him for all!” I think the last words he spoke, when I
had just commended his soul to God, were, “Now you have done all!” and, with
the same serene, cheerful countenance, he fell asleep without one struggle, or sigh,
or groan. I cannot therefore doubt but the Spirit of God bore an inward witness
with his spirit that he was a child of God.

In the long sickness that preceded death the good old rector
had occasion to acknowledge the kindness of his people. He
outlived the brutal hostility with which he was met during the
first years of his residence at Epworth, and his dozen communi-
cants had increased to above a hundred. One of his sayings was,
“The Lord will give me at the last all my children, to meet in
heaven.” To him belongs the distinction of being “the father
of the greatest evangelist of modern times, and of the best sa-
ered poet that has flourished during the Christian era.” That
the three sons of Epworth parsonage became polished shafts is
largely due to the scholarly inspiration and care of their father.
He had, under great difficulties, obtained a university education
himself, and could not be content with a less heritage for them.

Samuel Wesley was buried in his church-yard; and upon the
tombstone his widow had these words inscribed as part of the
epitaph: “As he lived so he died, in the true catholic faith of
the Holy Trinity in Unity, and that Jesus Christ is God incar-
nate, and the only Saviour of mankind.”

Methodism owes a debt to endowed scholarships, fellowships,
and institutions of learning. Without them, Samuel Wesley and
his sons, with George Whitefield, must have gone without the
educational outfit which, under God, so mightily prepared them
for their life-work. John was maintained six years at Char-
Death of Mrs. Wesley. 65

 

a.

terhouse, and thence sent forward to Oxford upon this founda-
tion As fellow of Lincoln College, he matured and enlarged
his post-graduate attainments, and upon this income initiated
Methodism before it was organized so as to support its ministry.
In the same way Charles, after becoming a “king’s scholar,” at
Westminster, went through that fine training-school, and after-
ward graduated at the university. The income of Epworth was
utterly unable to bear these charges. The arrangement that made
it possible for the elder Wesley and for George Whitefield to get
through as “servitors” is part of the same wisdom that lays a
“foundation” to bless the ages. Let one think, if he can, of
Methodism without these four men; and think of these four men
without education.

Those dying-words to his children, “The Christian faith will
surely revive in this kingdom; you shall see it, though I shall
not,” were prophetic. Seven years afterward, John stood on that
tombstone and preached the gospel to great and awakened mul-
titudes, “with the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven.”

A veil is drawn over the parting from old Epworth. Neither
of the sons could be prevailed on to succeed their father in the
rectory, and so the connection of the family with the spot en-
deared by associations extending over forty years comes to an end.
Beautiful in sorrow, and with the weight of years added to her
solitary condition, the mother leaves the memorable place to spend
the seven years of her earthly pilgrimage as a widow in about
equal portions with four of her children, Emilia, Samuel at Tiv-
erton, Martha, and John in London. In the last change she
gathered her five living daughters around her at the Foundry,
and, not far from where she commenced, there in peacéful
quiet she closed the journey of life, after a glorious but suf-
fering career of seventy-three years. They stood round the bed,
and fulfilled her last request, uttered a little before she lost her
speech: “Children, as soon as I am released, sing a psalm of
praise to God.” Released was her beautiful thought of death.*

 

*Dr. Adam Clarke, in summing up the incidents of her life, says: “I have been
acquainted with many pious females; I have read the lives of others; but such a
woman, take ner for all in all, I have not heard of, I have not read of, nor with
her equal have I been acquainted. Such a one Solomon has described at the end
of his Proverbs; and adapting his words I can say, ‘Many daughters have don
virtuously, but Svsasna Westey has excelled them all.’”

RK
66 History of Methodism.

 

Still further anticipating history, before taking final leave of
the family, we glance at the seven daughters—gifted, cultivated,
affectionate, and some of them beautiful women. What unhappy
marriages, leading to unhappy lives! This may not be accounted
for on the theory that over-education unfitted them for their
social sphere. Let us rather look for the cause in a state of
things that has not wholly disappeared in our own day—the few
suitable avenues that were open to educated women for self-sup.
port. Emily, the oldest, was a woman in whom virtue, form, and
wit were combined in harmony. She had an exquisite taste for
music and poetry. Her brother John pronounced her the best
reader of Milton he had ever heard.

Her letters to her brothers are fine specimens of writing. She
was occasionally impatient at the straits of the situation, and no
wonder. The money spent on “those London journeys” and
“convocations of blessed memory” would, in her opinion, have
been better spent in quieting “endless duns and debts,” and in
buying clothes for the family.

While John was playing at ritualism, he seems to have pro-
posed to her confession and penance. The reply is thoroughly
Wesleyan: - :

Now what can J answer? To indicate my own piety looks vain and ridiculous;
to say I am in so bad a way as you suppose me to be would perhaps be unjust to
royself and unthankful to God. To lay open the state of my soul to you, or any
ef our clergy, is what I have no manner of inclination to at present, and believe 1
never shall. Nor shall I put my conscience under the direction of mortal man,
frail as myself. To my own Master I stand or fall; yea, I shall not scruple to say
that all such desires in you, or any other ecclesiastic, seem to me to look very much
like Church tyranny, and assuming to yourselves a dominion over your fellow-
creatyres which never was designed you by God.

She married a dull and thriftless man—a “tradesman without
a trade’’—and by keeping a scantily furnished boarding-school,
she supported herself and him. For many years a “widow
indeed,” she was useful in her brother’s “classes,” and died at
fourscore.

From injury received in infancy, Mary grew up deformed in
body and short in stature, but beautiful in face and in mind.
This condition exposed her to unseemly remarks from the igno-
rant and vulgar when she walked abroad. She alone seems to
have been married to suit herself and others; but in one short
year mother and babe lay in the same grave. When Charles
The Wesley Daughters. 67

 

was passing through college, worrying with a short purse, she
wrote: “Dear brother, I beg you not to let the present straits
you labor under narrow your mind, or render you morose or
churlish in your converse with your acquaintance, but rather re-
sign yourself and all your affairs to Him who best knows what
is fittest for you, and will never fail to provide for whoever sin-
cerely trusts in him. I think I may say I have lived in a state
of affliction ever since I was born, being the ridicule of mankind
and the reproach of my family, and I dare not think God deals
hardly with me.” A lovely character, her death was rich in ele-
gies from the gifted family.

Anne was so matched as to lead a quiet if not happy life. Her
husband was kind, but intemperate. Susanna’s husband was
rich, but coarse and depraved. The rector spoke of him as the
“wen of my family;” and the rector’s wife, in the anguish of a
mother’s heart, wrote to a childless relative:

My second daughter, Sukey, a pretty woman, and worthy a better fate, rashly
threw away herself upon a man (if a man he may be called who is little inferior
to the aprstate angels in wickedness) that is not only her plague, but a con-
stant affliction to the family. O sir! O brother! happy, thrice happy, are you;
happy is my sister, that buried your children in infancy! secure from temptation,
secure from guilt, secure from want or shame, or loss of friends! They are safe
beyond the reach of pain or sense of misery; being gone hence, nothing can touch
them further. Believe me, sir, it is better to mourn ten children dead than one
living; and I have buried many.

His conduct to his wife is represented as harsh and despotic,
and under his unkindness “she well-nigh sunk into the grave.”
At last she fled from him, and found a peaceful death with her
children. Some of her last words, after she had been speech-
less for some time were, “Jesus is here! Heaven is love!”
Wesleyan missionaries to the West Indies, and ministers for the
Established Church, were of her offspring.*

In Hetty [Mehetabel] nearly all the graces and gifts of her
brothers and sisters were combined. Her personal appearance,
accomplishments, and mental endowments were remarkable,

 

*The bad, rich man, her husband, became beggarly poor at the last, and also
penitent. Charles Wesley says (London, April 11, 1760): “Yesterday evening I
buried my brother Ellison. He believed God, for Christ’s sake, had forgiven him.
L felt a most solemn awe overwhelming me while I committed his body to the
earth, He is gone to increase my father’s joy in paradise, who often said every
one of his children would be saved, for God had given them all to him in answer to
prayer. God grant I may not be the single exception!”
68 History of Methodism.

 

even for the Wesley family. At the age of eight years she had
made such proficiency in classical knowledge that she could read
the Greek Testament. Good judges pronounced her poetic gift
equal to her younger brother’s. Her fancy, wit, and gen-
ius outran her judgment, and caused her parents both anxiety
and trouble. Her ill-fated marriage took place during the year
1725. Never perhaps were two persons, united in marriage,
more unsuited to each other. Her husband was illiterate, vul-
gar, and unkind; of loose, habits, and given to drink.

The following verses were breathed out of Hetty’s soul on the
early death of her first-born. In an ill-spelled note, the father
conveyed the sad news to the two brothers, and adds a postscript:

PS.—Ive sen you Sum Verses that my wife maid of Dear Lamb Let me hear
from one or both of you as Soon as you think Conveniant. W. W.

A MotuHeEr’s Appress To Her Dyine Inrant.

Tender softness! infant mild!

Perfect, purest, brightest child!

Transient luster! beauteous clay!

Smiling wonder of a day!

Ere the last convulsive start

Rend thy unresisting heart;

Ere the long-enduring swoon

Weigh thy precious eyelids down;

Ah, regard a mother’s moan,

Anguish deeper than thy own!
Fairest eyes! whose dawning light

Late with rapture blest my sight,

Ere your orbs extinguished be,

Bend their trembling beams on me!
Drooping sweetness! verdant flower,

Blooming, withering in an hour!

Ere thy gentle breast sustains

Latest, fiercest, mortal pains,

Hear a suppliant! Jet me be

Partner in thy destiny:

That whene’er the fatal cloud

Must thy radiant temples shroud;

When deadly damps, impending now,

Shall hover round thy destined brow,

Diffusive may their influence be,

And with the blossom blast the tree!

September, 1728.

With a degree of perverseness, Hetty held out long, but finally
and heartily became a Methodist, and died well. By and by the
Martha Outlives the Lyworth Family. 69

 

dolt and drunkard, who had wearied and worried the life out of
her, came to his end praying and repenting, and her forgiving
brothers ministered to him and buried him.*

At a time when she believed and hoped that she should soon
be at peace in the grave, she composed this epitaph for herself:
Destined while living to sustain
An equal share of grief and pain,

All various ills of human race

Within this breast had once a place.
Without complaint she learn’d to bear

A living death, a long despair;

Till hard oppress’d by adverse fate,
O’ercharged, she sunk beneath the weight,
And to this peaceful tomb retired,

So much esteem’d, so long desir’d,

The painful, mortal conflict’s o’er;

A broken heart can bleed no more.

The youngest of the family died unmarried, after a disap-
pointment that embittered her life. Her death was witnessed
by Charles, who had often wept and prayed with her. He
writes (March 10, 1741): “ Yesterday morning sister Kezzy died
in the Lord Jesus. He finished his work and cut it short in
mercy. Full of thankfulness, resignation, and love, without
pain or trouble, she commended her spirit into the hands of Je-
sus, and fell asleep.”

Martha was the counterpart of John. The points of similar-
ity in person, manners, habits of thought, patient endurance,
and in other respects, were so marked that Dr. Adam Clarke,
who had an intimate personal knowledge of both, has said that
if they could have been seen dressed alike it would not have
been possible to distinguish the one from the other. Her letters
to her brothers make a part of that admirable correspondence
by which the current of love and mutual confidence was kept
flowing through every member of the family. Writing to John
when he was standing for his fellowship, she says: “I believe
you very well deserve to be happy, and I sincerely wish you may
be so, both in this life and the next. For my own particular, I
have long looked upon myself to be what the world calls ruined—-
that is, I believe there will never be any provision made for me;
but when my father dies I shall have my choice of three things:

 

* Stevenson’s Memorials of the Wesley Family.
E
70 History of Methodism.

 

starving, going to a common service, or marrying meanly, as my
sisters have done; none of which I like.” She married Westley
Hall, a clergyman—an Oxonian, and one of the original “Holy
Club.” He is described by Dr. A. Clarke as “a curate in the
Church of England, who became a Moravian, a Quietist, a Dvist
(if not an Atheist), and a Polygamist—which last he defended
in his teaching and illustrated by his practice.” Her husband
deserted her, her children died. She was never known to speak
ankindly of him, even at the worst. She was the friend of
Samuel Johnson, and often took tea with the literary Jove, who
enjoyed her Christian refinement and quiet wisdom; and these
occasions furnished Boswell with quotable paragraphs. To one
speaking of her severe trials she replied: “ Evil was not kept
from me; but evil has been kept from harming me.” Even
when reproving sin, she was so gentle that no one was ever known
to be offended thereby. Her kindly nature remained unchanged
to the end of life, and she lived to be eighty-five—outliving
all the Epworth family. John Wesley remembered his sister
in his will, leaving her a legacy of £40, to be paid out of the
proceeds of the sale of his books. Her last illness was brief;
she had no disease, but a mere decay of nature. She spoke of
her dissolution with the same tranquillity with which she spoke
of every thing else. A little before her departure she said: “I
have now a sensation that convinces me that my departure is
near; the heart-strings seem gently but entirely loosened.” Her
niece asked her if she was in pain. “No, but a new feeling.”
Just before she closed her eyes she bid her niece come near;
she pressed her hand, and said: “I have the assurance which I
lave long prayed for. Shout!” and expired. Her remains
were interred in the City Road burial-ground, in the same vault
with her brother; and on her tomb is the following inscription:
“She opened her mouth with wisdom, and in her tongue was the
Inw of kindness (Prov. xxxi. 26).”
CHAPTER VI.

The Oxford Family Broken Up—Glances at the History of its Several Members~
The Georgia Colony—Why the Wesleys went as Missionaries,
‘YHERE was a strong missionary spirit in the Wesley family
when Christian missions to the heathen scarce existed.
The John Wesley of 1662, after being ejected from his church-
living, longed to go as a missionary to Maryland. Samuel Wes-
,ey, his son, when a young man, formed a magnificent scheme
for the East, and was willing to undertake the mission under the
Government’s patronage. Now the Georgia Colony invites his
sons, and they go. General Oglethorpe, its founder and govern-
or, having taken out the first company of emigrants and settled
them, published that a door was opened for the conversion of
the Indians; and nothing seemed to be’ wanting but a minister
who understood their language.

There is a good deal of romance in the conception of a mis-
sion to the heathen, as many ardent minds conceive of it; and
John Wesley was not an exception. The charm of the mystic
writers still hung about him; it was to be dispelled in the wilds
of America. Though he had not embraced the peculiar senti-
ments of those who were grossly unscriptural, yet he still be-
lieved many of the mystic writers were, to use his own words,
“the best explainers of the gospel of Christ;” and those that
are supposed to be the purest of them continually cry out, “To
the desert! to the desert!” At this time, having only attained
to what St. Paul calls “the spirit of bondage unto fear,” he
found that company and almost every person discomposed his
mind, and that all his senses were ready to betray him into sin,
upon every exercise. Al] within him, as well as every creature he
conversed with, tended to extort that bitter cry, “O wretched
man that I am! who shall deliver me?”” No wonder he should
close in with a proposal which seemed at one stroke to cut him
off from both the smiling and the frowning world, and to enable
him to be crucified with Christ, which he then thought could be
only thus attained.

All our Atlantic coast had been taken up by charters and grants,
save a narrow sea-front between the Savannah and the Altamaha

(71)
i2 History of Methodism.

rivers. The Spaniards were in Florida, the English in the Car-
olinas, and the French in Canada and Louisiana. On the 9th of
June, 1732, a charter was obtained from George IL., erecting this
thin slice of America into the Province of Georgia, and appoint-
ing Oglethorpe and twenty other gentlemen trustees to hold the
same for a period of twenty-one years, “in trust for the poor.”
The name of Georgia was given to it in compliment to the sov-
reign under whose auspices it was commenced, and who sub-

scribed £500. The design of the undertaking was twofold. It
was to be an outlet to the redundant population at home, espe-
cially of London; and to be an asylum for such foreign Protest-
ants as were harassed by popish persecution.

Those were days of harsh government. The gallows was the
penalty for petty thefts; and each year at least four thousand
unhappy men in Great Britain were immured in prison for the
misfortune of being poor. A small debt was enough to expose
a struggling man to imprisonment. _ A Parliamentary commis-
sion under Oglethorpe resulted in the release of hundreds. The
persecution of the Moravians and the Saltzburgers in popish
states excited the sympathy and indignation of Protestant Ein-
gland. The Bank of England presented a donation of £10,000;
an equal amount was voted by the House of Commons; and the
total sum raised, with but little effort, was £36,000. Within five
months after the signing of the charter, the first company of em-
igrants—one hundred and twenty-six in number—set sail, with
Oglethorpe as their commander. In February, 1733, the colo-
nists reached the high bluff on which Savannah stands. The
streets of the intended town were laid out, and the houses were
constructed on one model. Other ship-loads followed, and more
colonists found homes there. Hach freeholder was allotted fifty
acres of ground, five of which were near Savannah, and the re-
tnaining forty-five farther off. Thus began the Commonwealth
of Georgia.

In a letter dated October 10, 1735, Wesley gives his reasons
for going to Georgia:

My chief motive is the hope of saving my own soul. I hope to learn the true
sense of the gospel of Christ by preaching it to the heathen. They have no com-
ments to construe away the text; no vain philosophy to corrupt it; no luxurious,
sensual, covetous, ambitious expounders to soften its unpleasing truths. They

have no party, no interest to serve, and are therefore fit to receive the gospel in
its simplicity. They are as little children, humble, willing to learn, and eager tc
The Georgia Colony. 1

 

 

do, the will of God. A right faith will, I trust, by the mercy of God, open the
way for a right practice; especially when most of those temptations are removed
which here so easily beset me. It will be no small thing to be able, without fear
of giving offense, to live on water and the fruits of the earth, An Indian hut af-
Yords no food for curiosity, no gratification of the desire of grand, or new, or pretty
things. The pomp and show of the world have no place in the wilds of America.

And he sums up all in one sentence: “I cannot hope to attain
tle same degree of holiness here which I may there.” An excel.
lent authority * thus explains the state of the two brothers: “Ac-
eording to their apprehensions, true holiness is attained princi-
pally by means of sufferings—mental and bodily; and hence
they adopted this mode of life, resolved to do and suffer what-
ever it should please God to lay upon them. Their theological
views were not only defective, but erroneous. They understood
not the true nature of a sinner’s justification before God; nor
the faith by which it is obtained; nor its connection with sancti-
fication. Holiness of heart and life was the object of their eager
pursuit; and this they sought not by faith, but by works and
personal austerity.” The Georgia Trustees, inviting the Wesleys,
told them “ plausible and popular doctors of divinity were not
the men wanted” for the infant colony; but they sought for men
“inured to contempt of the ornaments and conveniences of life,
to godly austerities, and to serious thoughts;” and such they
considered them. They add: “ You will find abundant room for
the exercise of patience and prudence, as well as piety. One
end for which we were associated was the conversion of negro
slaves. As yet nothing has been attempted in this way, but a
door is opened. The Purisburgerst have purchased slaves;
they act under our influence; and Mr. Oglethorpe will think it
advisable to begin there.”

The hearty Yorkshire Methodist, Benj. Ingham, who was
now a curate in the country, wrote Wesley: “I have had a great
many turns and changes since I saw you. I believe I must be
perfected through sufferings. Notwithstanding, by the blessi: g
of God, I hope to press on, and persevere in the constant use of
all the means of grace.” He received, in reply: “ Fast and pray,
and then send me word whether you dare go with me to the In-
dians.” He went, as also did Charles Delamotte, son of a Lon-
jon merchant, who had “a mind to leave the world and give

 

*Thomas Jackson’s Life of C. Wesley. { Purishurg, a settlement twenty milee
above Savannah, on the Carolina side of the river.
74 History of Methodism.

 

himself up entirely to God.” This young man was so attached
to Wesley that he asked leave to accompany him, even as his
servant rather than miss being with him.

Before John Wesley consented to go as a missionary to the
Indians, his mother was consulted. He dreaded the grief it
would give her. “I am,” said he, “the staff of her age, her
chief support and comfort.” On the proposal being put to Mrs.
Wesley, she said: “If I had twenty sons, I should rejoice that
they were all so employed, though I should never see them
more.” It was finally arranged that Charles should accompany
him as secretary to the governor; and Charles was now ordained,
that he might be able to officiate as a clergyman in the colony.

On October 14, 1735, Wesley embarked with his companions,
saking with him five hundred and fifty copies of a treatise on the
Lord’s Supper, besides other books—“ the gift of several Chris-
tian friends for the use of the settlers in Georgia.” The head is
taken away from them, and soon the Oxford family, like that at
Epworth, will be scattered. Let us glance at them.

“Bob Kirkham” was of Merton College—son of a Glouces-
tershire clergyman. A rollicking fellow, wasting money and
time, he seems to have been gained over to temperance and stead-
iness by our Fellow of Lincoln. Ina letter to John Wesley, as
early as 1726, he speaks of “your most deserving, queer char-
acter, your personal accomplishments, your noble endowments of
mind, your little and handsome person, and your most obliging
and desirable conversation.” Three months after the first Meth-
odist meeting in Oxford (1730), Wesley writes to his mother, de-
scribing the “strange” reformation: “ Why, he has left off tea,
struck off his drinking acquaintances to a man, given the hours
above specified to the Greek Testament and Hugo Grotius, and
spent the evenings either by himself or with my brother and
me.” Next year Kirkham left, and became his father’s curate.*

The Wesleys and Kirkham were the sons of English clergymen.
Morgan was the son of an Irish gentleman, resident in Dublin.
A young layman with a liberal allowance from his father, he
moved the Methodists to add to Greek Testament readings
and prayers and weekly communions the visiting of prisons and

*Tyerman, from whose interesting volume—“The Oxford Methodists”—our
information is derived, concludes: “We have tried to obtain information concern-
‘ng his subsequent career, but have failed.”
The Oxford Family Scattered. 75

 

the care of the poor. He was the precursor of Howard, by a
generation. Wesley writes:

In the summer of 1730, Mr. Morgan told me he had called at the gaol, to see
a man who was condeined for killing his wife; and that from the talk he had
with one of the debtors, he verily believed it would do much good, if any one
would be at the pains of now and then speaking with them. This he so frequently
repeated that, on the 24th of August, 1730, my brother and I walked with him to
the Castle. We were so well satisfied with our conversation there that we agreed
to go thither once or twice a week; which we had not done long, before he desired
me to go with him to see a poor woman in the town, who was sick. In this em-
ployment, too, when we came to reflect upon it, we believed it would be worth
while to spend an hour or two in a week.

Such “peculiar” conduct gave rise to criticism and opposition,
and they consulted the old Epworth rector. Wesley’s father
wrote: “ You have reason to bless God, as I do, that you have so
fast a friend as Mr. Morgan, who, I see, in the most difficult serv-
ice; is ready to break the ice for you. You do not know of how
much good that poor wretch, who killed his wife, has been the
providential occasion. I think I must adopt Mr. Morgan to be
my son, together with you and your brother Charles; and, when
I have such a ternion to prosecute that war, wherein I am now
miles emeritus, I shall not be ashamed when they speak with their
enemies in the gate.”

Morgan’s father wrote him very differently:

You cannot conceive what a noise that ridiculous society in which you are en-
gaged has made here. Besides the particulars of the great follies of it at Oxford
(which to my great concern I have often heard repeated), it gave me sensible
trouble to hear that you were noted for going into the villages about Holt, calling
their children together, and teaching them their prayers and catechism, and giv-
ing them a shilling at your departure. I could not but advise with a wise, pious,
and learned clergyman. He told me that he has known the worst of consequences
follow from such blind zeal; and plainly satisfied me that it was a thorough mis-
take of true piety and religion. I proposed writing to some prudent and good
man at Oxf.rd to reason with you on these points, and to convince you that you
were in a wrong way. He said, in a generous mind, as he took yours to ne, the
admonition and advice of a father would make a deeper impression than all the
exhortatious of others. He concluded that you were young as yet, and that your
judgment was not come to its maturity; but as soon as your judgment improved,
and on the advice of a true friend, you would see the error of your way, and think,
as he does, that you may walk uprightly and safely, without endeavoring to outdo
all the good bishops, clergy, and other pious and good men of the present and past
ages; which God Almighty give you grace and sense to understand aright!

Morgan’s decease occurred in Dublin, August, 1732; and no
sooner was the event known than it was wickedly and cru ‘lly
76 History of Methodism.

 

alleged that his Methodist associates had killed him by fastings
and overrighteousness.*

The first of the many published defenses made by Methodists
ayainst public clamor was made on this occasion; and so thor-
oughly was the father of Morgan satisfied, instead of blaming them
he became their faithful friend and defender. This was shown
not in words only, but in deeds; for, during the next year, he sent
his surviving son to Oxford, and placed him under the tuition of
Wesley. This fashionable young man entered Lincoln College,
wringing a favorite greyhound with him, and choosing men “ more
pernicious than open libertines” for his companions. Wesley
did his best on the airy and thoughtless youth, but failed; at
length he desired Hervey to undertake the task, and he succeed-
ed. Gambold writes: “Myr. Hervey, by his easy and engaging
conversation, by letting him see a mind thoroughly serious and
happy, where so many of the fine qualities he most esteemed were
all gone over into the service of religion, gained Mr. Morgan’s
heart to the best purposes.”

The friendship between Clayton and the Wesley brothers was
close and unbroken until the latter departed from Church usages,
and became out-door evangelists. He was introduced to the Ox-
ford Methodists in 1732, and at his recommendation they took
to fasting twice a week. A model of diligence and self-denial,
he never quailed before ridicule or even sterner measures of per-
secution. He continued and ended as he began—a ritualist,
plunging into the Christian fathers, listening to apostolical and
other canons as to the Bible, and displaying anxiety about sacra-
mental wine being mixed with water.

Jobn Wesley, between the years 1738 and 1773, visited Man-
zhester (Clayton’s parish) more than twenty times; and yet
there is no evidence of any renewal of that fraternal intercourse
which was interrupted when Wesley began to preach salvation
by faith only, and, in consequence, was excluded from the pulpits
of the Established Church. This was heresy too great. To be
saved by faith in Christ, instead of by sacraments, fasts, pen-

 

* A short extract from Samuel Wesley’s poem on Morgan’s death:
Wise in his prime, he waited not till noon,
Convinced that mortals “ never lived too soon.”
As if foreboding then his little stay,
He made his morning bear the heat of day.
Nor yet the priestly fanction he invades:
*T is not his sermon, but his life, persuades.
Wesley and His Oxford Friends. 77

 

ances, ritualism, and good works, was deserving of Clayton’s life.
long censure; and hence, after 1738, the two old Oxford friends
seem to have been separated till they met in heaven.*

Gambold’s account of Wesley and his Oxford company has
already been referred to. From another letter written to him be-
fore he returned from Georgia, we see the burden of Gambold’s
thoughts: “O what is regeneration? And what doth baptism?
How shall we reconcile faith and fact? Is Christianity become
effete, and sunk again into the bosom of nature? But to come to
the point. That regeneration is the beginning of a life which is
not fully enjoyed but in another world, we all know. But how
much of it may be enjoyed at present? What degree of it does
the experience of mankind encourage us to expect? And by what
symptoms shall we know it?”

Similar thoughts were deeply engaging Wesley’s mind at that
very time. Two or three years afterward, the Rev. John Gam-
bold, the learned, moping, gloomy, philosophic, poetic Mystic,
became a humble, happy, trustful believer in Christ Jesus. He
gave up his living, severed his connection with the Established
, Church and joined the Moravians. In 1754, as the chief En-
glish member of their community, he was ordained a “Chor-
Episcopus,” or Assistant Bishop. With some faults, at the be-
ginning of its history in England, the Unitas Fratrum set a true
and heroic example to other Churches, in its missions to the
heathen; and the man who helped to purify, improve, and per-
petuate such a community did no mean service to the Master
For seventeen years, he wore the honors of his office “with hu-
mility and diffidence.”

The last time that he attended the public celebration of the
Lord’s Supper was only five days before hisdeath. At the conclu-
sion of it, weak and wasted, he commenced singing a verse of praise
and thanksgiving, and the impression produced was such that the
whole congregation began to weep.t+

Hervey has been designated the Melanchthon of the Methodist

*Charles Wesley writes October 30, 1756: “TI stood close to Mr. Clayton in
church (as all the week past), but not a look would he cast toward me—

 

So stiff was his parochial pride.”

tTyerman, whose “Oxford Methodists” furnishes our sketch, thinks 1t was
Gambold’s yearning for Christian fellowship that united him to the Moravians—the
Cellowship that Methodist love-feasts and class-meetings, of a later day, afford.
78 History of Methodism.

 

Reformation. The flowing harmony and the elaborate polish of
his works secured the attention of the upper circles of society
to a far greater extent than the writings of Wesley. Hervey
avowedly wrote for the élite; Wesley for the masses. His books
passed through a marvelous number of editions in his day, and
his “ Contemplations” still finds readers. Whitefield wrote to
him: “Blessed be God for causing you to write so as to suit the
taste of the polite world! O that they may be won over to acd-
mire Him, who is indeed altogether lovely!” The “polite world”
read his works because they were flowery; the Methodists, be-
cause they were savory; “and while, through their medium, the
former looked at grace with less prejudice, the latter looked at
nature with more delight.” *

Just before his ordination (1736), he wrote to Wesley, now in
Georgia: “I have read your ‘Journal,’ and find that the Lord
hath done great things for you already, whereof we rejoice.
Surely, he will continue his loving-kindness to you, and show
you greater things than these. Methinks, when you and dear Mr.
Ingham go forth upon the great and good enterprise of convert-
ing the Indians, you will, in some respects, resemble Noah and
his little household going forth of the ark.”

Wesley had been his tutor, and Hervey often thanks him for
having taught him Hebrew, and speaks of him gratefully as “the
friend of my studies, the friend of my soul, the friend of all my
valuable and eternal interests; that tender-hearted and generous
Fellow of Lincoln, who condescended to take such compassionate
notice of a poor undergraduate, whom almost everybody con-
demned, and for whose soul no man cared.” It was said Hervey’s
niission was to “sanctify the sentimentalism of the day.”

To one of the Oxford Methodists who had taken up residence
at Bath—the gay watering-place—he gives these directions:

I would be earnest with God to make my countenance shine with a smiling seren-

ity; that there might sit something on my cheeks which would declare the peace
and ioy of my heart. The world has strange apprehensions of the Methodists. They

 

*Devoutly he blesses the providence of God for his well-used microscope, which,
in the gardens and fields, he almost always took with him. He believed and inti-
mated that the discovery of so much of the wisdom, power, and goodness of the
great Creator, even in the minutest parts of vegetable and animalcular creation,
helped to attune his soul to sing the song of the four-and-twenty elders: “Thou art
worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honor and power; for thou hast created all
things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created.”—Tyerman.
Wesley and His Oxford Friends. 79

 

imagine them to be so many walking mopes, more like the ghost in a play than
sociable creatures. To obviate this sad prejudice, be always sprightly and agree-
able. If a pretty turn of wit, or a diverting story offer itself to your mind, do not
seruple to entertain the company therewith. Every thing that borders upon sour-
ness, moroseness, or ill-breeding, I would cautiously avoid; and every thing that
may give a beautiful or amiable idea of holiness, I would study to show forth. I
do not mean, by what I have said, that you should make all sorts of compliances.
A solicitation to join with your acquaintance in billiards, dice, cards, dancing, etr ,
should be rejected.

In his old age Wesley, while claiming the ability “to write
floridly and rhetorically,” adds: “I dare no more write in a fine
style than wear a fine coat. I should purposely decline, what
many admire, a highly ornamental style. I cannot admire French
oratory; I despise it from my heart.” It was otherwise with
Hervey. Of set purpose he cultivated the “jine style.” “My
writings,” said he, “are not fit for ordinary people; I never give
them to such persons, and dissuade this class of men from pro-
curing them. O that they may be of some service to the more
refined part of the world! . I don’t pretend, nor do I wish, to
write one new truth. The utmost of my aim is to represent old
doctrines in a pleasing light, and dress them in a fashionable o1
genteel manner.”

In 1739, Whitefield, replying to a friend who had read Hervey’s
Meditations,” overflows: “It has gone through six editions.
The author of it is my old friend, a most heavenly-minded creat-
ure, one of the first of the Methodists, who is contented with a
small cure, and gives all that he has to the poor. He is very
weak, and daily waits for his dissolution. We correspond with,
though we cannot see, one another. We shall, erelong, meet in
heaven.”

Hervey’s charity to the poor was only limited by his means,
and even such a limit was sometimes overstepped. To prevent
embarrassment, his friends practiced upon him the innocent de-
ception of borrowing his money when he received his salary, lest
he should dispense it all in benefactions; and then repaying it
as his necessities required. All the profits of his “ Meditations, '
amounting to £700, he distributed in charitable donations; and
directed that any profit arising from the sale of his books after
his decease should be used in the same manner.

Hervey was converted after he had been preaching four years.
Resting on his own works, and on communicating, and on alms
80 History of Methodism.

 

giving, he at length rested on Christ. A sentence or two from a
long letter to Whitefield will indicate his experience:

But I trust the divine truth begins to dawn upon my soul. Was I possest of
all the righteous acts that have made saints and martyrs famous i- all genera-
tions—could they all he transferred to me, and might I call them all my »wn—I
would renounce them all that I might win Christ. . My schemes are alterel.
I now desire to work in my blessed Master’s service, not for, but from, salvation
I would now fain serve him who has saved me. I would glorify him before mcz whe
has justified me before God. I would study to please him in holiness and right-
eousness all the days of my life. I seek this blessing not as a condition, but as a
part—a choice and inestimable part—of that complete salvation which Jesus his
purchased for me.

Hervey’s published sermons are few in number. “I have
never,” said he, “since I was minister at Weston, used written
notes; so that all my public discourses are vanished into air; un-
less the blessed Spirit has left any traces of them on the hearts
of the hearers.” One who heard him describes his later pulpit
efforts: “His subjects were always serious and sublime; they
might well be ranged under three heads—Ruin, Righteousness,
and Regeneration. He always steered a middle course, between
a haughty positivity and a skeptical hesitation.”

The friendship of these Oxford Methodists was most sincero
and cordial, but was not unruffled. The “moderate Calvinism ”
ef Theron and Aspasio brought forth criticism from Wesley.
He begs that Hervey will lay aside the phrase “the imputed
righteousness of Christ,” adding: “It is not scriptural, it is not
necessary, it has done immense hurt.” ‘heir friendship was
beclouded; and it is a mournful fact that the last few months
of Hervey’s lovely life (he died in 1758) were spent in fighting
one who, a quarter of a century before, had been the greatest of
his human oracles.

Broughton became curate of the Tower of London, where he
had much to do with prisoners. He seems to have continued a.
sturdy Churchman, and opposed to the later development of
Methodism. Charles Wesley, on visiting Newgate prison, in
1743, observes: “I found the poor souls turned out of the way
by Mr. Broughton. He told them: ‘There is no knowing our
sins forgiven; and, if any could expect it, not such wretches as
they, but the good people, who had done so and so. As for his
part, he had it not himself; therefore it was plain they could not
yeceive it.’”” The same year Broughton was appointed the Secre-
Wesley and His Oxford Friends. 8]

 

tary of the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, an office
which he held until his death in 1777. For thirty-four years the
secretarial duties of this society were his principal employment.
In the society’s house he spent five hours every day in the week,
except on Saturdays and Sundays. It wasa Bible, Prayer-book,
Religious Tract, Home and Foreign Mission, and Industrial So-
ciety, all in one, of which Broughton was the chief manager. It
had the honor of being the pioneer of some of the greatest move-
ments of the present day. It distributed Bibles long befure the
British and Foreign Bible Society existed. The great Religious
Tract Society was not formed until twenty-two years after
Broughton’s death. Its foreign missions were few in number,
but were important and successful—one of its missionaries being
the celebrated Schwartz. One Sunday morning Broughton put
on his ministerial robes and, according to his wont, retired into
his room till church-time. The bells were ringing, and he con-
tinued in his closet. They ceased, but he made no appearance.
His friends entered, and found him on his knees—dead. An
original portrait of him hangs in the Room of the Society for
Promoting Christian Knowledge.

Kinchin, a Fellow of Corpus Christi College, left Oxford about
the same time the Wesleys did, and became rector of a small vil-
lage church. Like a good primitive Methodist, he visited from
house to house, catechised the children, and had public prayers
twice every day—in the morning before the people went to work,
and in the evening, after their return. He was elected Dean of
Corpus Christi, but he continued faithful to the principles of
the Methodists, and, on the removal of Hervey, Whitefield, and
others from the University, Kinchin assumed the spirituai
charge of the prisoners. Charles Wesley, on his return from
Georgia, hastened to Oxford, where, in February, 1737, he
met with “good Mr. Gambold,” “poor, languid Smith,” and
“Mr. Kinchin, whom,” says he, “I found changed into a cour-
ageous soldier of Christ.” He died in 1742.

Hall was, as has been seen, the Judas of the company—“a
hawk among the doves of the Wesley family.” It is on record
by those who were with Hall during his dying-hours, that his
last testimony concerning his deserted wife was: “I have injured
an angel! an angel that never reproached me.” John Wesley
notes in his journal (January 2, 1776): “I came [to Bristol] just

6
82 History of Methodism.

 

time enough not to see but to bury poor Mr. Hall, my brother-
in-law, who died on Wednesday morning, I trust in peace, for
God had given him deep repentance. Such another monument
of Divine mercy, considering how low he had fallen, and from
what heights of holiness, I have not seen—no, not in seventy
years.” The other Oxford Methodists—Boyce, Chapman, and
Atkinson, and the rest—made small record. Glimpses of them
show the parish priest, in humble places, doing his work—
some in the later, and others in the earlier, Methodist spirit;
but all earnest. The best we can say with certainty of each
is: When last seen he was in good company. Of.John White-
lamb— connected with both the Epworth and the Oxford fam-
ilies—there are a few memorials. He was the son of one of
Samuel Wesley’s peasant parishioners at Wroot, and as an
amanuensis, had rendered the rector important service for four
years. While resident beneath his roof, Whitelamb acquired
a sufficient knowledge of the Greek and Latin languages to
enter Lincoln College, where he was principally maintained
by the Epworth rector, and had John Wesley for his tutor.

Wesley wrote of him in 1731: “He reads one English, one
Latin, and one Greek book alternately; and never meddles with
a new one, in any of the languages, till he has ended the old one.
If he goes on as he has begun, I dare take upon me to say that
by the time he has been here four or five years there will not be
such a one, of his standing, in Lincoln College, perhaps not in
the University of Oxford.” Like his patrons, however, White-
{amb was very poor; and poverty implies trials. Obliged to wear
second-hand gowns and other gear, he was spoken of by one not,
used to employ opprobrious epithets as “poor, starveling Johnny.”

In 1733 Whitelamb became Samuel Wesley’s curate, and soon
afterward married his daughter Mary. She was eleven years
older than himself. Her amiable temper made her the delight
and favorite of the whole family. To provide for the newly-
married pair, Samuel Wesley resigned to Whitelamb his rectory
at Wroot. The village—a few miles from Epworth—was seques-
tered, and the salary small; but, despite their thatched residence,
and the boorishness of the people among whom they lived, they
were happy. Their union, however, was of brief duration.
Within a year of their marriage the wife died.*

 

*Stevenson’s Memorials of the Wesley Familv.
Final Dispersion of the Oxford Family. 83

 

At this time Oglethorpe returned from Georgia, whither he
had gone with his first company of motley emigrants. Samuel
Wesley, now within six months of his decease, took an intense
interest in the Georgian colony, and declared that if he had been
ten years younger he would gladly have devoted the remainder
of his life and labors to the emigrants, and in acquiring the lan-
guage of the Indians among whom they had to live. Among
others who had gone to Georgia with Oglethorpe, and had re-
turned with him, was one of Samuel Wesley’s parishioners. of
whom the venerable rector earnestly inquired whether the min-
isters who had migrated to the infant colony understood the In-
dian language, and could preach without interpreters. Corre-
spondence with General Oglethorpe followed, and the rector had
the pleasure, as he could not go himself into that missionary
field, of forwarding an application from his son-in-law—incon-
solable at his late bereavement. His sons John and Charles
sailed for the colony next year, but for some unknown reason his
son-in-law did not. Tyerman asks: ‘Did Whitelamb miss the
way of Providence in not becoming a Georgian missionary?
Perhaps he did. At all events, the remaining thirty-four years
of his life seem to have been of comparatively small importance
to his fellow-men. A person of retiring habits and fond of sol-
itude,” he lived and died at Wroot; and though he was unable
to accept the later development of Methodism that was soon
shaking the land, we must always think kindly of the man who
made the gifted and afflicted Mary Wesley happy.

The Oxford family, like the Epworth, is broken up—dispersed
forever. Ina qualified sense, we may apply to Oxford Method-
ism the words of the sacred text: “A river went out of Eden to
water the garden; and from thence it was parted, and becamo

into four heads.”
CHAPTER VII.

Voyage to Georgia—The Moravians—Lessons in a Storm—Reaches Savannah
-~Labors There—The Indians—A Beginning Made—The Wes'eys Leave
Georgia.

OHN WESLEY is on board the ship Symmonds, bound for
America, with one hundred and twenty-four persons—men,
women, and children. His brother Charles, Benjamin Ingham,

Charles Delamotte, and David Nitschman, areon boardalso. Da-

vid is a Moravian bishop, and, accompanied by twenty-six Mo-

ravians, is on his way to visit the Brethren in Georgia, who had

emigrated during the preceding year under the guidance of their
ministers, Spangenberg, John Toelschig, and Anthony Seyffart.

Such were the chief of Wesley’s fellow-voyagers. As already
stated, they left London to embark, on October 14, 1735; but it
was not until December that they fairly started. They encoun-
tered storms and calms; then had to await the man-of-war that
was to be their convoy.

InglLam’s journal reads:

We haa two cabins allotted us in the forecastle; I and Mr. Delamotte having
the first, and Messrs. Wesley the other. Theirs was made pretty large, so that we
could ell inet together to read or pray in it. This part of the ship was assigned
to us by Mr. Gelethorpe, as being most convenient for privacy.

Getober 17, Mr. John Wesley began to learn the German tongue, in order to
converse with the Moravians, a good, devout, peaceable, and heavenly-minded peo-
ple, who were versecuted by the papists, and driven from their native country,
upon the account ct their religion. They were graciously received and protected
by Count Zinzendocf, of Herrnhut, a very holy man, who sent them over into
Georgia, where lands will be given them. There are twenty-six of them in our
ship; and almost the only time that you could know they were in the ship was
wnen they were harmoniously singing the praises of the Great Creator, which they
constantly do in public twice a day, wherever they are. Their example was very
edifying. They are more like the Primitive Christians than any other Church
aow in the world; for they retain both the faith, practice, and discipline delivered
oy the apostles.

From the same source we learn that, on October 18, Wesley and
Ingham began to read the Old Testament together, and, at the
rate of between nine and ten chapters daily, finished it before
they arrived at Georgia. On the day following, Wesley com-
menced preaching without notes; and during the passage, in a

(84)
The Voyage to America. 85

 

series of sermons, he went through the whole of our Saviour’s
Sermon on the Mount, and, every Sunday, had the sacrament.

General Oglethorpe was in command, but John Wesley was the
religious head of the floating community, and his habits pre-
vailed over all around him. The daily course of life among the
Methodist party was directed by him. From four till five o’clock
in the morning each of them used private prayer; from five till
seven they read the Bible together, carefully comparing it with
the writings of the earliest Christian ages; at seven they break-
fasted; at eight were the public prayers. From nine to twelve
Wesley usually studied German, and Delamotte Greek or Navi-
gation, while Charles Wesley, lately ordained, wrote sermons, and
Ingham instructed the children. At twelve they met to give an
account of what they had done since their last meeting, and of
what they designed to do before the next. About one they dined;
the time from dinner to four was spent in reading to persons on
board, a number of whom each of them had taken in charge.
At four were the evening prayers, when either the second lesson
was explained (as the first was in the morning) or the children
were catechised and instructed before the congregation. From
five to six they again used private prayer. From six to seven
they read in their cabins to the passengers (of whom aboat
eighty were English). At seven Wesley joined with the Ger-
mans in their public service, while Mr. Ingham was reading be-
tween the decks to as many as desired to hear. At eight they
all met together again, to-give an account of what they had done,
whom they had conversed with, and to. deliberate on the best
method of proceeding with such and such persons: what advice,
direction, exhortation, or reproof, was necessary for them. Some-
times they read a little, concluding with prayer; and so they
went to bed about nine, sleeping soundly upon mats and blankets,
regarding neither the noise of the sea nor of the sailors.

It has been well remarked that the ship became at once a
Bethel and a seminary. “It was Epworth rectory and Su-
sanna Wesley’s discipline afloat on the Atlantic.” The meeting
of the Wesleys with the pious refugees appeared to be casual,
but it was, in fact, one of those providential arrangements out of
which the most momentous consequences arise. The great event
of the voyage, as affecting Methodism, was the illustration of
genuine religion which the little band of Moravian passengers

yr
86 History of Methodism.

 

afforded. It made a deep impression upon. the susceptible and
observant minds of the two Wesleys, especially upon that of
John.

A storm came upon them when within ten days’ sail of the
American continent. The waves of the sea were mighty, and
raged horribly; the winds roared, and the ship not only rocked
to and fro with the utmost violence, but shook and jarred with
so unequal and grating a motion that the passengers could with
difficulty keep their hold of any thing. Every ten minutes came
a shock against the stern or side of the ship, which seemed as if
it would dash the planks in pieces. In this state of things, John
Wesley writes:

I went to the Germans. I had long before observed the great seriousness of
tneir behavior. Of their humility they had given a continual proof, by perform-
ang those servile offices for the other passengers which none of the English would
undertake, for which they desired and would receive no pay, saying it was good
for their proud hearts and their loving Saviour had done more for them. And
every day had given them occasion of showing a meekness which no injury could
move. If they were pushed, struck, or thrown down, they rose again and went
away; but no complaint was found intheir mouth. There was now an opportu-
nity of trying whether they were delivered from the spirit of fear, as well as from
that of pride, anger, and revenge. In the midst of the psalm wherewith their serv-
ice began, the sea broke over, split the main-sail in pieces, covered the ship, and
poured in between the decks, as if the great deep had already swallowed us up.
A terrible screaming began among the English. The Germans calmly sung on.
I asked one of them afterward, “Was you not afraid?” He answered, “I thank
God, no.” I asked, “But were not your women and children afraid?” He re-
plied mildly, “No; our women and children are not afraid to die.”

From them Wesley returned to the affrighted English, and
pointed out the difference between him that feareth God and him
that fearetl him not; and then concludes his account of the storm
by saying, “This was the most glorious day which I have hitherto
seen.” Thus he had a glimpse of a religious experience, which
keeps the mind at peace under all circumstances, “and vanquishes
that feeling which a formal and defective religion may lull to
temporary sleep, but cannot eradicate—the fear of death.”

The voyage was made in fifty-seven days. Oglethorpe seems to
have acted with generosity and propriety toward his company in
the cabin. He was irritable and impulsive, but magnanimous.
Wesley, hearing an unusual noise in the General’s cabin, entered
to inquire the cause; on which the angry soldier cried: “Excuse
me, Mr. Wesley, I have met with a provocation too great to bear
Landing at Savannah. 87

 

This villain, Grimaldi (an Italian servant), has drunk nearly the
whole of my Cyprus wine, the only wine that agrees with me, and
several dozens of which I had provided for myself. But I am
determined to be revenged. The rascal shall be tied hand and
foot, and be carried to the man-of-war; for I never forgive.”
“Then,” said Wesley with great calmness, “I hope, sir, you never
sin.” Oglethorpe was confounded, his vengeance was gone; he
put his hand into his pocket, pulled out a bunch of keys, and
threw them at Grimaldi, saying: “There, villain! take my keys,
and behave better for the future.”

February 5, 1736, the Symmonds cast anchor in Savannah
River; and on the following day the passengers landed upon a
smallisland. Oglethorpe led the first company that left the ship,
including the Wesleys, to a rising ground, where they all kneeled
down to give thanks to God for their preservation. He now took
boat for the settlement of Savannah, then a town of about forty
houses. Oglethorpe’s first act was to give orders to provide ma-
terials to build a church. Wesley met on his arrival in Georgia
the well-known Moravian elder, August Gottlieb Spangenberg,
and asked his advice how to act in his new sphere of labor.
Spangenberg replied: “My brother, I must first ask you one or
two questions. Have you the witness within yourself? Does
the Spirit of God bear witness with your spirit that you are a
child of God?” Wesley was surprised at such questions. They
were new to him. He was at a loss to answer. Spangenberg
continued, “Do you know Jesus Christ?” This was easier, and
Wesley answered, “I know he is the Saviour of the world.”
“True,” said Spangenberg; “but do you know he has saved
you?” Wesley was again perplexed, but answered, “I hope he
has died to save me.” Spangenberg only added, “Do you know
yourself?” “Ido,” responded Wesley; “but,” he writes, “TI fear
they were vain words.” An enigmatical conversation, leading the
Oxford priest to think on doctrines which it took him the next two
years to understand.

Ingham and Charles Wesley went off with Oglethorpe to lay
out the town of Frederica; and Wesley and Delamotte, having
no house of their own to live in, lodged, during the first month,
with Spangenberg, Nitschman, and other Morayians. Wesley
writes: “They were always employed, always cheerful themselves,
and in good humor with one another; they had put away all an-
88 History of Methodism.

 

ger, and strife, and wrath, and bitterness, and clamor, and evil-
speaking; they walked worthy of the vocation wherewith they
were called.” His Churchly prejudices were rebuked by the
apostolic purity of their ecclesiastical forms. They met, he says,
to consult concerning the affairs of their Church—Spangenberg
being about to go to Pennsylvania, and Bishop Nitschman to
return to Germany. After several hours spent in conference and
prayer, they proceeded to the election and ordination of a bishop.
The great simplicity, as well as solemnity, of the proceeding al-
most made him forget the seventeen hundred years between him
and the apostles, and imagine himself in one of those assemblies
where form and state were unknown, but Paul the tent-maker
or Peter the fisherman presided, yet with the demonstration of
the Spirit and of power.

March 7 he commenced his ministry at Savannah, preaching
on 1 Corinthians xiii. 3. He officiated at nine in the morning, at
twelve, and again in the afternoon; and announced his design to
administer the sacrament on every Sunday and on every holiday.
A few days subsequent to this, writing to his mother, he re-
marked: “ We are likely to stay here some months. The place
is pleasant beyond imagination, and exceeding healthful. Ihave
not had a moment’s illness of any kind since I set my foot upon
the continent; nor do I know any more than one of my seven hun-
dred parishioners who is sick at this time.” *

In a few weeks after Wesley had commenced his ministry, he
had established daily morning and evening public prayers. It
was also agreed: “1. To advise the more serious to form them-
selves into a sort of little society, and to meet once or twice a
week, in order to reprove, instruct, and exhort one another, 2
To select out of these a smaller number for a more intimate un
jon with each other, which might be forwarded partly by con-
versing singly with each and partly by inviting all together to
the pastor’s house every Sunday in the afternoon.” This he

 

*To make up that number of parishioners he counted the whole of Georgia as his
parish The Saltzburgers arrived in March, the year before, and chose a settlement
twenty miles from Savannah, where there were “rivers, little hills, clear brooks,
cool springs, a fertile soil, and plenty of grass.” To the spot which they had chosen
as their settlement they gave the name of Ebenezer. The French settlers were
at Highgate, five miles away; and the Germans at Hampstead; and the Highlanders
at Darien—with their kirk minister, Macleod; and threescore souls were dwell ing
in the palmetto huts of Frederica, a hundred miles to the south. (Tyerman.)
Wesley’s Labors Among the Colonists. 89

 

afterward reckoned as the first Methodist society in America, and
the second in the world.

Delamotte’s school of between thirty and forty children were
taught to read, write, and cast accounts. Wesley catechised them
every Saturday and Sunday afternoon. Every Sunday he had
three public services—at five in the morning, twelve at midday,
and three in the afternoon. He visited from house to house,
taking the midday hours in summer, because the people, on ac-
count of the heat, were then at home and at leisure. It seems
that he also taught a school for a time. This legend is preserved:
A part of the boys in Delamotte’s school wore stockings and
shoes, and the others not. The former ridiculed the latter. De-
lamotte tried to put a stop to this uncourteous banter, but told
Wesley he had failed. Wesley replied: “I think I can cure it.
If you will take charge of my school next week, I will take charge
of yours, and will try.” The exchange was made, and on Mon-
day morning Wesley went into school barefoot. The children
seemed surprised, but, without any reference to past jeerings,
Wesley kept them at their work. Before the week was ended,
the shoeless ones began to gather courage; and some of the others,
seeing their minister and master come without shoes and stock-
ings, began to copy his example, and thus the evil was effectually
cured.

By and by he had'enlarged his schedule of labor to this: He
offered to read prayers and to expound the Scriptures in French,
every Saturday afternoon, to the French families settled at High-
gate; which offer was thankfully accepted. The French at Sa-
vannah heard of this, and requested he would do the same for
them, with which request he willingly complied. He also began
to read prayers and expound in German, once a week, to the
German villagers of Hampstead. His Sunday labor was as fol-
lows: 1. English prayers from five o’clock to half-past six. 2.
Italian prayers at nine. 3. A sermon and the holy communiun
for the English, from half-past ten to about half-past twelve. 4.
The service for the French at one, including prayers, psalms, and
Scripture exposition. 5. The catechising of the children at two.
6. The third English service at three. . 7. After this, a meeting
in his own house for reading, prayer, and praise. 8. At six, the
Moravian service began, which he was glad to attend, not tc
teach, but learn. ©
90 History of Methodism.

 

Following a primitive but obsolete rubric, he would baptize
children only by immersion; nor could he be induced to depart
from this mode unless the parents would certify that the child
was weakly. Persons were not allowed to act as sponsors who
were not communicants. No baptism was recognized as valid
unless performed by a minister episcopally ordained; and those
who had allowed their children to be baptized in any other man-
ocr were earnestly exhorted to have them rebaptized. His rigor
extended even so far as to refuse the Lord’s Supper to one of
the most devout men of the settlement, who had not been bap-
tized by an episcopally ordained minister; and the burial-service
itself was denied to such as died with what he deemed unortho-
dox baptism.*

Both the brothers denied themselves not only the luxuries but
many of the ordinary conveniences of life, living on bread and
water. They enforced the forms of the Church with a repetition
and rigor that tired out the people and provoked resentment.
One of the colonists said to Wesley: “I like nothing you do; all
your sermons are satires upon particular persons. Besides, we
are Protestants; but as for you, we cannot tell what religion you
are of. We never heard of such a religion before; we know not
what to make of it.” ,

Affairs were even worse in the palmetto-huts of Frederica
than at Savannah. Charles and Ingham got into trouble
there very soon. Ingham says (Feb. 29th): “After morning
prayers I told the people that it was the Lord’s day, and
therefore ought to be spent in his service; that they ought not to
go a-shooting, or walking up and down in the woods; and that I
would take notice of all those who did. One man answered that
these were new laws in America.” Some of the colonists were
imprisoned, as they said, because he “made a blaek list,” and in-
formed on them. As for Charles, he had been baptizing chil-
dren by trine immersion—plunging them three times into wa-
ter—and endeavoring to reconcile scolding women. Complaint
was made that he held so many “services” as to interfere with

 

*In his journal for September 29, 1749, he gives a letter from John Martin
Bolzius, and adds: “What a truly Christian piety and simplicity breathe in these
lines!) And yet this very man, when I was at Savannah, did I refuse to admit to
the Lord’s table, because he was not baptized; that is, not baptized by a minister
who had been episcopally ordained. Can any one carry High-church zeal higher
than this? And how well have I been since beaten with mine own staff!”
Charles’s Mission to Frederica. 91

the people’s daily labor. Liars and tale-bearers, lax women and
unprincipled men, conspired toruin him. The governor unwise-
ly and unjustly listened to their reports, and treated his secre-
tary and chaplain for awhile with cruel neglect. While all the
others were provided with boards to sleep upon, he was left to
sleep upon the ground. His few well-wishers became afraid to
speak to him, and even his washer-woman refused in future to
wash his linen. An attempt was even made to assassinate him. On
one occasion, after dragging himself, fevered and worn-down, to a
service, he had for his congregation two presbyterians and a papist.

Charles’s mission to Frederica, like that of his brother at Sa-
vannah, was in the main a failure, As far as regards the great
end for which the Christian ministry was instituted, they labored
in vain. Why was this? The answer given by a well-instructed
scribe in the kingdom of heaven is worth attention:

The principal cause of his [Charles Wesley’s] want of success is doubtless to be
found in the defectiveness of his theological views,.and consequently of his own
piety. Several of the sermons which he preached at Frederica are still extant in

‘his own neat and elegant handwriting. In these we look in vain for correct and
smpressive views of the atonement and intercession of Christ, and of the offices of
the Holy Spirit. It cannot here be said “Christ is all, and in all.” No satisfac-
tory answer is given to the question, “What must I do to be saved?” Men are
required to run the race of Christian holiness with a load of uncanceled guilt upon
their consciences, and while the corruptions of their nature are unsubdued by re-
newing grace. The preacher has no adequate conception of asinner’s justification
before God. He sometimes confounds this blessing with sanctification, and at other
times he speaks of it as a something which is to take place in the day of judgment.
Never does he represent it as consisting in the full and unmerited forgiveness of
all past sins, obtained not by works of righteousness, but by the simple exercise of
faith in a penitent state of the heart; and immediately followed by the gift of the
Holy Ghost, producing peace of conscience, the filial spirit, power over all sin,
and the joyous hope of eternal life. On the contrary, he satisfies himself with re-
proving the vices and sins of the people with unsparing severity, and with holding
up the standard of practical holiness; denouncing the Divine vengeance against all
who fall short of it; but without directing them to the only means by which they
can cbtain forgiveness and a new heart. The consequence was that the more se-
rious part of the people were discouraged: for they were called to the hopelese
task of presenting to God a spiritual service, while they were themselves the serv-
ants of sin; and of loving him with all their heart, while they were strangers tc
his forgiving mercy, and labored under a just apprehension of his wrath. Charles’s
ministry, like that of his brother, at this time did not embody those great doctrines
of the evangelical dispensation which constitute “the truth as it is in Jesus,” and
upon which the Holy Ghost is wont to set his seal, by making them inst:umental
in the conversion and salvation of men.*

* Jackson’s Life of C. Wesley.
92 History of Methodism.

 

A writer in the London Quarterly Review for January, 1868,
says: ““We have before us a number of unpublished sermons
written by John Wesley, at Oxford, during the ten years which
followed his ordination. In not one of them is there any view
whatever, any glimpse, afforded of Christ in any of his offices.
His name occurs in the benediction—that is about all. Frequent
communion is insisted on as a source of spiritual quickening; re-
generation by baptism is assumed as the. true doctrine of the
Church; but Christ is nowhere, either in his life, his death, or
bis intercession.”

After spending a little more than five months in Georgia, some
duties connected with his secretaryship called Charles to Savan-
nah; and from thence he was sent with dispatches to England,
so that he never again visited Frederica, where he had met with
such unworthy treatment. “I was overjoyed,” he says, “at my
deliverance out of this furnace, and not a little ashamed of my-
self for being so.”

Leaving Ingham to take care of Savannah, and to keep up the
school that consisted largely of orphans and the very poor, Wes-
ley and his faithful layman, Delamotte, went to forsaken Fred-
erica, and put in a few months of hard work there. At this day
there is shown on the Island (St. Simons) a wide-spreading live-
oak called “ Wesley’s Tree.” Tradition has it that he preached
under that tree.*

But the Indians—what of them? It was to convert the Indi-
ans—those unsophisticated “children of nature”—that the Ox-
ford Methodists came to America. That was their inspiring vis-
ion—not to preach to white settlers, influenced by petty jealous-
ies and rivalries, and consisting, to a considerable extent, of
reckless and unprincipled persons who had brought with them
an assortment of the very European vices the “ missioners” had
hoped to leave behind. Ingham never lost sight of this object,
and could hardly be restrained from entering on it at once.
Wesley protested to the governor; but he urged that the troubles
recently stirred up by the Spaniards and French made it dan-
gerous to go among the Indians, and that it was inexpedient to

 

*Under this tree, a few years ago, a photographic group was taken of Lovick
Piezce, D.D. (the oldest effective traveling preacher then in the United States,
if not in the world), with his son, Bishop Pierce—a native Georgian—and Bishop
Wightman, of South Carolina, and others,
Among the Indians. 93

 

leave Savannah without a minister. Wesley answered that,
though the Trustees of Georgia had appointed him to the office
of minister of Savannah, this was done without his solicitation,
desire, or knowledge; and that he should not continuo longer
than his way was opened to go among the Indians.

On his first voyage, Oglethorpe had carried back to England a
sample, a rare trophy—Toma-Chache, a Muskogee king, and his
suite. They were presented to George II., and his court, and
made a great show of, with due effect on the public mind. It was
not long after the landing of our “ missioners” before the royal
savage called onthem. Ingham’s journal describes the interview:

A little after noon some Indians came to make us a visit. We put on our
gowns and cassocks, spent some time in prayer, and then went into the great cab-
in to receive them. At our entrance they all rose up, and both men and women
shook hands with us. When we were all seated, Toma-Chache, their king, spoke
to us to this effect—through his interpreter, Mrs. Musgrove, a half-breed: “You
are welcome. I am glad to see you here. I have a desire to hear the Great
Word, for I am ignorant. When I was in England, I desired that some might
speak the Great Word to us. Our nation was then willing to hear. Since that
time we have been in trouble. The French on one hand, the Spaniards on the
other, and the traders that are amongst us, have caused great confusion, and have
set our people against hearing the Great Word. Their tongues are useless; some
say one thing, and some another. But I am glad you are come.” All this he
spoke with much earnestness and much action, both of his head and hands. Mr.
John Wesley made him a short answer: “God only can teach you wisdom, and if
you be sincere, perhaps he will do it by us.” We then shook hands with them
again, and withdrew.

The queen made them a present of a jar of milk, and another
of honey; that the missionaries might feed them, she said, with
milk—for they were but children—and might be sweet to them.

Glad to get away from Frederica, Ingham is found among the
Indians three months after reaching Georgia:

April 25.—We were thirty-four communicants. Our constant number is about
adozen. Next day Mr. Wesley and I went up to Cowpen in a boat bought for
our use, to converse with Mrs. Musgrove about learning the Indian language. }
agreed to teach her children to read, and to make her whatever recompense she
would require more for her trouble. I am to spend three or four days a week with
her, and the rest at Savannah, in communicating what I have learned to Mr. Wes
ley; because he intends, as yet, wholly to reside there. The Moravians being in-
formed of our design, desired me to teach one of the brethren along with Mr. Wes-
‘ey. To this I consented at once with my whole heart. And who, think ye, is
the person intended to learn? Their lawful bishop [David Nitschman.]

April 30.—Mr. Wesley and I went up again to Cowpen, taking along with us
Toma-Cache and his queen. Their town is about four miles above Savannah. in
94 History of Methodism.

 

the way to Mrs. Musgrove’s. We told them we were about to learn their language.
I asked them if they were willing I should teach the young prince. They con-
sented, desiring me to check and keep him in; but not to strike him. The youth
is sadly corrupted, and addicted to drunkenness.

The Indians gave to Ingham a plot of ground, in the midst of
which was a small, round hill; and on the top of this hill a
house was built for an Indian school. The house was uamed
Irene. He soon formed a vocabulary of many words in the In-
dian language, and began an Indian grammar. An open door
was set before them; more laborers were wanted, and Wesley
wrote to a friend in Lincoln College (Feb. 16, 1737): “Mr. Ing-
ham has left Savannah for some months, and lives at a house
built for him a few miles off, near the Indian town. So that I
have now no fellow-laborer but Mr. Delamotte, who has taken
charge of between thirty and forty children. There is therefore
great need that God should put it into the hearts of some to come
over to us-and labor with us in his harvest. But I should not
desire any to come unless on the same views and conditions with
us—-without any temporal wages other than food and raiment,
the plain conveniences of life. And for one or more, in whom
was this mind, there would be full employment in the province.
The difficulties he must then encounter God only knows; proba-
bly martyrdom would conclude them. But those we have hith-
erto met with have been small, and only terrible at a distance.
Persecution, you know, is the portion of every follower of Christ,
wherever his lot is cast.”

Soon afterward, he writes: “lt was agreed Mr. Ingham should
go for England, and endeavor to bring over, if it please God,
some of our friends to strengthen our hands in this work.” Ing-
ham left Savannah February 26. This is the last of him in Georgia.
Arrived in England, he sought spiritual fellowship among his
Christian friends in Yorkshire and Oxford, and, as opportunity
offered, occupied the pulpit of the Established Church. His
Methodist preaching created asensation. A man with asoul like
his—burning with zeal—could scarcely fail to be a successful
evangelist. In a letter to Charles Wesley, October 22, 1737, he
writes:

I have no cther thoughts but of returning to America, When the time comes,
[ trust the Lord will show me. My heart’s desire is that the Indians may hear

the gospel. For this I pray both night and day. I will transcribe the Indian
words as fast as I can.
Among the Indians. 95

Last Sunday, I preached such a sermon at Wakefield church as has set almost
all about us in an uproar. Some say the devil is in me; others, that I am mad.
Others say no man can live up to such doctrine, and they never heard such be-
fore; others, again, extol me to the sky. I believe, indeed, it went to the hearts
of several persons; for I was enabled to speak with great authority and power; and
I preached almost the whole sermon without book. There was a vast congrega-
tion, and tears fell from many eyes.

Ingham is evidently studying, and mindful of the people about
Irene and Cowpens. Oglethorpe tried to get Charles to return.
John meant to stay, and was arranging for his sister Kezzy to
come out and keep house for him. Whitefield was preparing to
come to his help. “A man’s heart deviseth his way, but the Lord
directeth his steps.” As Wesley came to America so he left it,
“contrary to all preceding resolutions.” In four weeks from the
date of the above letter, he had left Georgia forever.* The Creeks
or Muskogees, the Choctaws and Chickasaws, the Uchees and
Cherokees, dwelt in the country lying between the thin strip of
white settlements on the Atlantic and Gulf coast, and the Mis-
sissippi River. They were shy of the white man; but Wesley lost
no opportunity of seeing and interviewing them and their occa-
sional representatives—of hearing, through traders, of their num-
bers, customs, and worship: what he saw and heard doubtless
modified his views, but did not abate his desire for the conver-
sion of the Indians. He died without the sight. Methodism
was to be honored of God in giving the gospel and a Christian

 

* Wesley’s excessive pastoral fidelity and his ritualistic severity made enemies,
and they found occasion to avenge themselves in an affair connected with one of
his parishioners, Miss H. It seems he thought of proposing marriage te
her; but Delamotte warned him, and the Moravians advised him “to proceed no
farther in the matter.” Wesley answered: “The will of the Lord bedone.” The
lady’s uncle, Causton, of bad record, and then in brief authority, some time after-
ward hatched up indictments—ten bills, some civil and some ecclesiastical—against
him. Wesley was prepared to answer, and moved for an immediate hearing; but
the court evaded his request. From September 1, when the indictments were first
presented, to the end of November, when Wesley made known his intention to
return to England, he seems to have attended not fewer than seven different sit-
tings of the court, asking to be tried on the matters over which it had jurisdiction,
but denying its right to take cognizance of the ecclesiastical offenses alleged.
Thus harassed and obstructed—power being in the hands of his enemies, and he
unable and they unwilling to reach an issue—he gave notice of leaving, and left.
This was what they wanted. Caustcn, the chief power in Oglethorpe’s absence,
came to disgrace and grief in a twelve-month, being turned out of all his offices
The enemies of Wesley and of Methodism have sedulously endeavored, but in vain.
to fix a blot upon him in this matter.

 
a

96 History of Methodism.

 

civilization to the Indians, but not then. Its instruments were
not ready. Its Pentecost had not come. By a way that Wesley
knew not God would bring it about; and in less than a century
Methodist preachers would have schools among those very tribes
in which Indian children would be learning the Wesleyan Cate-
chism, and thousands of Indian members under their pastoral
care would make the Western wilds rejoice as, in their own lan
guage, they sung Wesleyan hymns.

This vision was not granted the missionary, and he left with
his enemies exulting and his friends sad. He himself was sad-
dest of all, for his mission seemed a failure. ‘These are his re.
flections on the way back to England:

Many reasons I have to bless God for my having been carried to America, con-
trary to all my preceding resolutions. Hereby, I trust, he hath in some measure
“humbled me and proved me, and shown me what was in my heart.” Hereby, I have
been taught to “beware of men.’ Hereby, God has given me to know many of his
servants, particularly those of the Church of Herrnhut. Hereby, my passage is
open to the writings of noly men, in the German, Spanish, and Italian tongues.
All in Georgia have heard the word of God, and some have believed and begun
to run well. A few steps have been taken toward publishing the glad tidings
both to the African and American heathens. Many children have learned how
they ought to serve God, and to be useful to their neighbor. And those whom it
most concerns have an opportunity of knowing the state of their infant colony,
and laying a firmer foundation of peace and happiness to many generations.

When Whitefield arrived in Georgia, a reaction had taken
place, and he wrote: “The good Mr. John Wesley has done in
America is inexpressible. His name is very precious among the
people; and he has laid a foundation that I hope neither men
nor devils will ever be able to shake. O that I may follow him
as he followed Christ!” John Wesley’s latest and best historian
thus concludes the account: “Who could have imagined that,
in one hundred and thirty years, this huge wilderness would
be transformed into one of the greatest nations upon earth?
and that the Methodism, begun at Savannah, would pervade the
continent, and, ecclesiastically considered, become the mightiest
power existing?”
CHAPTER VIII.

Whitefield: His Conversion and Preaching; Goes to Savannah— Orphan Asylum:
What was Accomplished by this Charity.

HITEFIELD had sailed for Georgia a few hours before

the vessel which brought Wesley back to England cast
anchor. The ships passed in sight of each other, but neithe
knew that so dear a friend was on the deck at which he was gaz-
ing. ‘When Wesley landed he learned that his coadjutor was on
board the vessel in the offing. It was still possible to communicate
with him; and Whitefield was not a little surprised at receiving
a letter which contained these words: “ When I saw God by the
wind which was carrying you out brought me in, I asked coun-
sel of God. His answer you have inclosed.” The inclosure was
a stip of paper with this sentence: “Let him return to London.”
Whitefield resorted to prayer. The story of the prophet in the
book of Kings came forcibly to his recollection—how he turned
back from his appointed course because another prophet told him
it was the will of the Lord that he should do so, and for that reason
a lion met him by the way and slew him. So he proceeded on
his voyage.* :
A new power has been developed in this Oxford Methodist.
He has undergone a great change. The departure of Wesley
left Whitefield at the head of the Methodist band or Holy
Club of the university and left him also trying to establish his
own righteousness after the then Methodist style. The last
glimpse we had of his experience, he was not behind the best of
them in that way. Reading a treatise lent him by Charles Wes-
ley, he found it asserted that true religion is a union of the soul
with God, by the Spirit. A ray of divine light, he says, in-
stantaneously darted in upon him, and from that moment he
knew he must be a new creature. To use his own words: “Up

 

* Wesley doubting, from his own experience, whether his friend could be so
nsefully employed in America as in England, had referred the question to lot, and
this was the lot which he had drawn. Whitefield afterward rebuked him: “It
is plain you had a wrong lot given you here, and justly, because you tempted God
in drawing one.” He was at that time addicted to the Moravian practice of
vortilege, in perplexed anxieties for the right way. ‘

7 (97)
98 History of Methodism.

 

to that time I knew no more that I must be born again than
if I had never been born at all.” In seeking, however, to at-
tain the peace that passeth all understanding, his vehemence and
ardency of character betrayed him into many ill-judged proceed-
ings and ascetic follies.

Whitefield preceded the Wesleys in obtaining the “assurance
of faith,” which they had sought together so arduously before
they parted. But, like them, he passed through an ordeal of
agonizing self-conflicts; he followed out many false courses,
and exhausted many remedies; and thus seems to have been
prepared to guide and comfort others. Whenever he knelt
down to pray, he felt great pressure both in soul and body,
and often prayed under the weight of it till the sweat dripped
from his face. ‘“ God only knows,” he writes, “ how many nights
I have lain upon my bed groaning under what I felt.” He kept
Lent so strictly that, except on Saturdays and Sundays, his only
food was coarse bread and sage-tea without sugar. The end of
this was that before the termination of forty days he had scarce-
ly strength enough left to creep up-stairs, and was under a phy-
sician for many weeks. At the close of the severe illness which
he had thus brought on himself, a happy change of mind con-
firmed his returning health. It may best be related in his own
words:

Notwithstanding my fit of sickness continued six or seven weeks, I trust I shall
have reason to bless God for it through the endless ages of eternity; for, about the
end of the seventh week, after having undergone innumerable buffetings of Satan,
and many months’ ifexpressible trials, by night and by day, under the spirit of
bondage, God was pleased at length to remove the heavy load, to enable me to lay
hold on his dear Son by a living faith, and by giving me the Spirit of adoption, to
seal me, as I humbly hope, even to the day of everlasttmg redemption. But O
with what joy—joy unspeakable, even joy that was full of and big with glory—was
my soul filled when the weight of sin went off, and an abiding sense of the par-
doning love of God, and a full assurance of faith, broke in upon my disconsclate
soul! Surely it was the day of my espousals—a day to be had in everlasting re
membrance. At first my joys were like a spring-tide, and, as it were, overflowed
the banks. Go where I would I could not avoid singing of psalms almost aloud;

afterward they became more settled, and, blessed be God, saving a few casual in
tervals, have abode and increased in my soul ever since.

The Wesleys at this time were in Georgia; and some person _
who feared lest the little society which they had formed at Ox-

ford should be broken up and totally dissolved, for want of a su-
perintendent, had written to Sir John Philips, of London, who
Whitefield’s First Sermon. 99

 

was ready to assist in religious works with his purse, and recom-
mended Whitefield as a proper person to be encouraged and pat-
ronized, more especially for this purpose. Sir John immediately
gave him an annuity of £20, and promised to make it £30 if he
would continue at Oxford; for if it could be leavened with the
vital spirit of religion, it would be like medicating the waters at
their spring. He accepted the situation, and filled it well. His
illness rendered it expedient for him to change air, and he went
accordingly to his native city where, laying aside all other books,
he devoted himself to the study of the Holy Scriptures, reading
them upon his knees, and praying over every line and word.
The Bishop of Gloucester perceived his talents and earnest spirit,
and proffered him ordination, notwithstanding he said that he
had resolved to ordain no one under three and twenty years, and
Whitefield was only twenty-one.

He prepared himself for the ceremony by fasting and prayer,
and spent two hours the previous evening on his knees in the
neighboring fields, making supplication for himself and those
who were to be ordained with him. At the ordination he conse-
crated himself to an apostolic life. “TI trust,” he writes, “I an-
swered to every question from the bottom of my heart, and heartily

‘ prayed that God might say, Amen. If my vile heart doth not de-
ceive me, I offered up my whole spirit, soul, and body to the serv-
ice of God’s sanctuary. Let come what will, life or death, depth
or height, I shall henceforward live like one who this day, in the
presence of men and angels, took the holy sacrament upon the
profession of being inwardly moved by the Holy Ghost to take
upon me that ministration in the Church.”

The good bishop gave him five guineas — “a great supply,”
wrote Whitefield, “for one who had not a guinea in the world.”
His first sermon revealed at once his extraordinary powers. His
journal gives this account: “Last Sunday, in the afternoon, I
preached my first sermon in the church where I was baptized, and
also first received the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper. Curiosity
drew a large congregation together. The sight at first a little awed
me. But Iwas comforted with a heart-felt sense of the Divine
presence, and soon found the advantage of having been accus-
tomed to public speaking when a boy at school, and of exhorting
and teaching the prisoners and poor people at their private houses,
whilst at the university. By these means I was kept from being
100 History of Methodism.

 

daunted overmuch. As I proceeded, I perceived the fire kindled,
till at last, though so young, and amidst a crowd of those who
knew me in my childish days, I trust I was enabled to speak with
some degree of gospel authority.”

Some mocked: many were awakened. It was reported to the
bishop that fifteen of his hearers had gone mad. He wished that
the madness might not pass away before another Sunday. That
same week Whitefield returned to Oxford, took his degree, and
continued to visit the prisoners, and inspect two or three charity
schools which were supported by the Methodists. With this
state of life he was contented, and thought of continuing in the
university, at least for some years, that he might complete his
studies, and do good among the gownsmen—to convert one of
them being deemed, by some, as much as converting a parish.
From thence, however, he was invited to officiate at the Tower
chapel, in London, during the absence of the curate. It was a
summons which he obeyed with fear and trembling; but he was
soon made sensible of his power; for though the first time he
entered a pulpit in the metropolis the congregation seemed dis-
posed to sneer at his youth, they grew serious during his dis-
course, showed him great tokens of respect as he came down, and
blessed him as he passed along, while inquiry was made on every
side, from one to another, Who is he?

While he was in London, letters from Ingham and the Weiléye
made him long to follow them to Georgia; but when he opened
these desires to his friends, they persuaded him that laborers
were wanted at home. He now learned that Charles Wesley had
come over to procure assistance; and though Charles did not
invite him to the undertaking, yet he wrote in terms which
made it evident that he was in his thoughts, as a proper person.
Soon afterward came a letter from John: “Only Mr. Delamotte
is with me,” said he, “till God shall stir up the hearts of some
of his servants, who, putting their lives in his hands, shall come
over and help us, where the harvest is so great and the labor-
ers so few. What if thou art the man, Mr. Whitefield?” In
another letter it was said: “Do you ask me what you shall have?
Food to eat, and raiment to put on; a house to lay your head in,
such as your Lord had not; and a crown of glory that fadeth not
uway.” Upon reading this, his heart leaped within him, and
echoed to the call. The desire thus formed soon ripened into
Whitefield’s Popularity. 101

 

a purpose, and fearing that it would never be carried into effect
if he “conferred with flesh and blood,” he wrote to his relations
at Gloucester, telling them his design, and that if they would
promise not to dissuade him, he would visit them to take his
leave; otherwise he would embark without seeing them, for he
knew his own weakness. But the promise extorted was not
strictly observed; his aged mother wept sorely; and others, who
liad nc such cause to justify their interference, represented to
him what “preferment”’ he might have if he would stay at home.*

Whitefield’s leave-takings proved to be great awakenings, es-
pecially in Gloucester and Bristol. Crowds attended week-day
services such as Sundays had not brought together. His piety
was fed with deep meditations, and his eloquence broke upon
cougregations with wondrous power. “Sometimes, as I have
been walking,” he says, “my soul would make such sallies that
I] thought it would go out of the body. At other times I would
be so overpowered with a sense of God’s infinite majesty that I
would be constrained to throw myself prostrate on the ground,
and offer my soul as a blank in his hands, to write on it what he
pleased.”

On his last visit to Bristol people came out on foot to meet
him, and some in coaches, a mile without the city. He preached
about five times a week. All classes, and all denominations, from
Quakers to High-churchmen, flocked to hear him. ‘The whole
city,” he wrote, “seemed to be alarmed.” “The word was sharper
than a two-edged sword, and the doctrine of the new birth made
its way like lightning in the hearers’ consciences.” ‘Some hung
upon the rails of the organ-loft, others climbed upon the leads
of the church, and all together made the church so hot with their
breath that the steam would fall from the pillars like drops of
rain.” When he said that perhaps they might see his face no
more, high and low, young and old, burst into tears. After
the sermon multitudes followed him home weeping. The next
day he was employed from seven in the morning till midnight
in talking and giving spiritual advice to awakened hearers; and
he left Bristol secretly in the middle of the night, to avoid be-
ing escorted by horsemen and coaches out of the town.t

 

®The device upon Whitefield’s seal was a winged heart soaring above the
zlobe, and the motto, Astra petumus. + Memoirs of Rey. Geo. Whitefield, by J.
Gillies, D.D
G
102 History of Methodism.

 

At Oxford, Whitefield had an agreeable interview with the
other Methodists, and came to Lendon abcut the end of August
to prepare for his voyage. The time of his detention was fully
employed in the pulpits of the metropolis. When he assisted at
the eucharist, the consecration of the elements had to be twice
or thrice repeated. The managers of charitable institutions were
eager to obtain his services; for that purpose they procured the
liberty of the churches on week-days, and thousands went away
from the largest churches, not being able to get in. The con.
gregations were all attention, and seemed to hear as for eternity.
He preached generally nine times a week, and often helped to
administer the sacrament early on the Lord’s-day, when the streets
might be seen filled with people going to church with lanterns
in their hands, and conversing about the things of God.*

As his popularity increased, opposition began to arise, but he
left before it took form. Some of the clergy became angry; two
of them told him they would not let him preach in their pulpits
any more, unless he renounced that part of the preface of his
sermon on “ Regeneration” (lately published), wherein he wished
“that his brethren would entertain their auditors oftener with dis-
courses upon the new birth.”

Wesley was approaching the coast of England while White.
field was preparing for his embarkation; “and now, when White-
field, having excited this powerful sensation in London, had de-
parted for Georgia, to the joy of those who dreaded the excesses
of his zeal, no sooner had he left the metropolis than Wesley
arrived there, to deepen and widen the impression which White-
field had made. Had their measures been concerted they could
not more entirely have accorded.” + And Whitefield supplied in
America the very element that Wesley’s ministry lacked. Te
was not an organizer; he was not an ecclesiastical legislator; he
was preéminently a preacher—a loving, melting, saving preachier.
In both hemispheres, but especially in Ainerica, starting oul
from and returning to Georgia in many successive trips, he was
to be the evangelist, preparing the way for Methodism.{ It was
appointed him to preach; he did not spend his strength in defend-
ing the word of God, but in proclaiming it. He drew crowds,
and before a crowd of drowsy worldlings had no equal. His
figure was tall and his gesture striking. Marvelous things were

 

*Tyerman. + Wesley and Methotism. + Dr. Stevens.
Whitefield’s Departure for Georgia. 102

 

told of the compass and sweetness of his voice.** His eyes
were blue and luminous, though small, and a slight squint in one
of them, caused by the measles, is said not to have “lessened the
uncommon sweetness” of his countenance. His humble origin
enabled him to understand and address the common people, who,
while admiring that natural grace which rendered him at home
in aristocratic circles, felt that he was one from among them-
selves. More than all, his soul was on fire. The unction of
the Holy One rested on him. An ignorant man returning
from hearing him said, “He preached like a lion.” In later
years, Wesley, listening to him, and observing the effect of his
sermon, wrote: “Even the little improprieties, both of his lan-
guage and manner, were the means of profiting many, who
would not have been touched by a more correct discourse, or a
more calm and regular manner of preaching.”

The ship on which Whitefield sailed was full of soldiers. The
captain of the ship and the officers of the regiment, and a young
cadet, gave him to understand that they looked upon him as a hyp-
ocrite, and for awhile treated him as such. Card-playing and pro-
fanity were prevalent, and his reproofs were scoffed at. The voy-
age was long. He tried what he could do between decks, preach-
ing daily to his red-coat parishioners, as he called them. A
fever broke out and went through the ship. The Methodist
plan was in place—doing good to the bodies and souls of men—
and he followed it. For many days and nights he visited be-
tween twenty and thirty sick persons—crawling between decks—
administering medicines or cordials to them, and such advice as
seemed suitable to their circumstances. One day he said to the
military captain that “though he was a volunteer on board, yet,
as he was on board, he looked upon himself as his chaplain, and
as such he thought it a little odd to pray and preach to the serv-
ants and not to the master;” and added that “if he thought
proper he would make use of a short collect now and then to
him and the other gentlemen in the great cabin.” After pausing
aw hile and shaking his head, he answered, “I think we may when
we have nothing else to do.” t

Before the voyage was through, the two captains were quite

 

* Garrick, with allowable exaggeration, said Whitefield could make his hearera
weep or shout with exultation, merely by his varied pronunciation of the word
Mesopotamia. + Memoirs of Whitefield, by Gillies.
104 History of Methodism.

 

brought over. Captain Mackay desired that Mr. Whitefield
would not give himself the trouble of expounding and praying
in the cabin and between decks, for he would order a drum
to beat morning and evening, and he himself would attend
with the soldiers on the deck. This produced a very agreeable
alternation—they were now as regular as in a church. White-
field preached with a captain on each side of him, and soldiers
all around; and the two other ships’ companies, being now in
the trade-winds, drew near and joined in the worship of God
The great cabin now became a Bethel; both captains were
daily more and more affected—a crucified Saviour and the
things pertaining to the kingdom of God were the usual topics
of their conversation. Once, after sermon, Captain Mackay de-
sired the soldiers to stop, whilst he informed them that to his
great shame he had been a notorious swearer, but by the instru-
mentality of Mr. Whitefield’s preaching he had now left it off,
and exhorted them, for Christ’s sake, to go and do likewise.
The effect may be imagined.

There was a reformation throughout the whole soldiery. The
women cried, “ What a change in our captain!” The bad books
and packs of cards which Whitefield exchanged for Bibles and
other religious books (abundance of which were given him to
dispense by the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge)
were thrown overboard. The cadet, who was a cabin-passenger,
being “wounded deeply,” told Mr. Whitefield the history of his’
life, aud informed the captain of his desire to leave the army,
aud return to his original intention of devoting himself to the
ministry. The soldiers stood forth of evenings and submitted
like children to being catechised on the exposition of the morning
lesson.

They landed the beginning of May, 1738. After preaching a
tarewell sermon to his converts on the sea and his red-coat par-
ishioners, Whitefield arrived at Savannah on the seventh, and
entered upon his “little foreign cure.’

Whitefield soon found he had no mission to the Indians; the
 munce about these “children of nature” disappeared on sight
of the situation. Of the unkindness done to Wesley he heard,
but did not embroil himself in the strife. His manner and spirit
opened his way to all the colonists. He contracted an intimacy
with the Saltzburg pastor, Bolzius, whom his predecessor had
Whitefield’s Return to England. 105

 

repelled from the sacrament because he had not been baptized
by an episcopally ordained minister. He writes:

Through Divine mercy, I met with respectful treatment from magistrates, offi
cers, and people. The first I visited now and then; the others, besides preaching
twice a day and four times on the Lord’s-day, I visited from house to house. I
was in general most cordially received, but from time to time found that calum
non animum mutant, qui trans mare currunt. [People do not change their disposition
by crossing the sea.] Among some of these, the event, however, proved that the
worl took effectual root. I was really happy in my little foreign cure, and could
have cheerfully remained among them had I not been obliged to return to En-
gland, to receive priest’s orders and make a beginning toward laying a founda-
tion to the Orphan-house.

He found many orphan children among the colonists, and pro-
jected an asylum for them. Their condition was peculiarly
helpless and their number likely to increase. The scheme of
Professor Franke, of Germany, was in his mind as a model; but
the differences between old and thickly-settled Halle and Savan-
nah were not taken into account. A more practical man would
call the plan & bad one, both in locatiow and operation; but if it
did little good to the orphans, it did a great deal of good to the
Church and to the world. It helped to secure the perpetual itin-
erancy of Whitefield. He was kept going the rest of his life, ta
build and then to support the orphanage; and as he went, he
preached; and the results of his preaching can never die. The
benevolent but ill-judged scheme was one of those mysterious
burdens which Providence sometimes allows good men to take
up, who move steadier and go faster for the load they carry.
The ideal is noble and elevating, but its benefits are in the con-
templation rather than in the realization. He ranged from north
to south along our coast, and thirteen times crossed the Atlantic,
pleading for his Bethesda. The Savannah orphanage on one
continent and the London Tabernacle on the other were the fo-
cal points of a wide movement, and made him the almoner and
the evangelist of the English-speaking world.

Parting affectionately with his flock, Whitefield embarked st
Charleston, September 6, 1738, and returned to England in time
to inaugurate that important economic measure of Methodism

—field-preaching.
CHAPTER IX.

Wesley's Experience; His Reflections—Peter Béhler: His Doctrine and [iie—
Conversion of the Two Brothers: Effect Upon Their Ministry.

( N his arrival in London (Feb. 3, 1738), and without delay,

John Wesley visited Oglethorpe, and waited upon the Geor-
gian trustees; gave to them a written account why he had left the
colony, and returned to them the instrument whereby they had
appointed him minister of Savannah. While on his way to En-
gland, upon the bosom of the great deep, his “mind was full of
thought,” and in the fullness of his heart he made the following
entry in his private journal: “I went to America to convert the
Indians; but O who: shall convert me? who, what is he that
will deliver me from this evil heart of unbelief? I have a fair
summer religion. I can‘talk well—nay, and believe myself, while
no danger is near; but let death look me in the face, and my spirit
is troubled. Nor can I say, ‘To die is gain.’

I have asin of fear that, when I’ve spun
My last thread, I shall perish on the shore.

1 think, verily, if the gospel be true, I am safe; for I not only
have given, and do give, all my goods to feed the poor; I not
only give my body to be burned, drowned, or whatever God shall
appoint for me; but I follow after charity (though not as I ought,
yet as I can), if haply I may attain it. I now believe the gospel .
is true. I show my faith by my works, by staking my all upon
it. I would do so again and again a thousand times, if the choice
were still to make. Whoever sees me sees I would be a Chris-
tian.”

By the most infallible of proofs, he tells us—that of his own
consciousness—he was convinced of his having “no such faith
in Christ” as prevented his heart from being troubled; and he
carnestly prays to be “saved by such a faith as implies peace in
life and death.” He did not apprehend the promise, “A new
heart also will I give you.” To attain to a state of entire sancti-
fication was with him the great business of life; he aimed at 4
high standard of personal holiness; but in the process of this
work, his references to the grace of the Holy Spirit were rather

(106)
Wesley's Experience. 107

 

casual and indirect than indicative of an entire dependence upon
his presence and agency. A few days afterward, standing again
on English soil, he makes in his journal this record of his in-
ward struggles, this estimate of his spiritual condition’

It is now two years and almost four months since I left my native (ountry, in
order to teach the Georgia Indians the nature of Christianity; but what have 1
learned myself in the meantime? Why (what I the least of all suspected), that I,
who went to America to convert others, was never myself converted to God. “I
am not mad,” though I thus speak, but “I speak the words of truth and sober-
ness;” if haply some of those who still dream may awake and see that as 1 am
so are they. Are they read in philosophy? So was I. In ancient or modern
tongues? So wasT also. Are they versed in the science of divinity? I too have
studied it many years, Can they talk fluently upon spiritual things? The very
same could Ido. Are they plenteous in alms? Behold, I give all my goods to
feed the poor. Do they give of their labor as well as of their substance? I have
labored more abundantly than they all. Are they willing to suffer for their breth-
ren? I have thrown up my friends, reputation, ease, country; I have put my life
in my hand, wandering into strange lands; I have given my body to be devoured
by the deep, parched up with heat, consumed by toil and weariness, or whatsoever
God should please to bring upon me. But does all this (be it more or less, it mat-
ters not) make me acceptable to God? Does all I ever did or can know, say, give,
do, or suffer, justify me in his sight? Yea, or the constant use of all the means
of grace (which, nevertheless, is meet, right, and our bounden duty)? Or that I
know nothing of myself; that I am, as touching outward, moral righteousness,
blameless? Or (to come closer yet) the having a rational conviction of all the
truths of Christianity? Does all this give me a claim to the holy, heavenly, di-
vine character of a Christian? By no means. If the oracles of God are true, if
we are still to abide by “the law and the testimony,” all these things, though
when ennobled by faith in Christ they are holy, and just, and good, yet without
it are “dung and dross,” meet only to be purged away by “the fire that never
shall be quenched.” This, then, have I learned in the ends of the earth—that I
“am fallen short of the glory of God;” that my whole heart is “altogether cor-
rupt and abominable,” and, consequently, my whole life (seeing it cannot be that
an “evil tree” should “bring forth good fruit”); that “alienated” as I am from
the life of God, Iam “a child of wrath,” an heir of hell; that my owr works, my
own sufferings, my own righteousness, are so far from reconciling me to an offend-
ed God, so far from making any atonement for the least ‘of those sins which “are
move in number than the hairs of my head,” that the most specious of them need
an atonement themselves, or they cannot abide his righteous judgment; that
“having the sentence of death” in my heart, and having nothing in or of myself
to plead, I have no hope but that of being justified freely “through the redemp-
tion that is in Jesus;” I have no hope but that if I seek I shall find Christ, and
“be found in him, not having my own righteousness, but that which is through
the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith.”

If it be said that I have faith (for many such things have I heard from many
miserable comforters), I answer, So have the devils—a sort of faith—but still they
are strangers to the covenant of promise. So the apos les had even at. Cana in
108 History of Methodism.

 

Galilee, when Jesus first “manifested forth his glory;” even then they in a sort
“believed on him,” but they had not then “the faith that overcometh the world.”
The faith I want is “a sure trust and confidence in God, that through the merits
of Christ my sins are forgiven, and I reconciled to the favor of God.” I want that
faith which St. Paul recommends to all the world, especially in his Epistle to the
Romans—that faith which enables every one that hath it to cry out: “I live not,
but Christ liveth in me; and the life which I now live, I live by faith in the Son
of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.” I want that faith which none
tar have without knowing that he hath it (though many imagine they have i
who have it not); for whosoever hath it is “freed from sin,” the whole “body of
sin is destroyed” in him; he is freed from fear, “having peace with God through
Christ, and rejoicing in hope of the glory of God.” And he is freed from doubt,
“having the love of God shed abroad in his heart through the Holy Ghost which
is given unto him;” which “Spirit itself beareth witness with his spirit that he is
a child of God.”

Wesley had been in the Christian ministry for twelve or thir-
teen years, and having tried legalism and ritualism to the ut-
most, he found no healthin them. He is now ready to be “taught
the way of the Lord more perfectly;” and the Lord has pre-
pared a teacher. At the very time when, harassed by persecu-
tion and perplexed as to the state of his heart, he resolved to
return to his native land, the heads of the Moravian Church in
Germany were making arrangements to send a pious and gift-
ed evangelist to America, directing him to pass through En-
gland. Little did they imagine what consequences would arise
out of the fulfillment of their plans. The hand of God was in
it. The man selected for this service was Peter Béhler, who ar-
tived in London just in time to impart the evangelical instruc-
tion which Wesley and his brother so greatly needed. The sons
of the Anglican Church applied to the son of the Moravian:
“Give us of your oil, for our lamps are gone out.”

More than three hundred years had passed since the Council
of Constance had burned at the stake the two noblest men of Bo-
hemian history—Jérome and Huss. Fora long time the people
of Moravia and Bohemia had held principles that, in Luther’s
time, became Protestantism. John Huss and Jerome of Prague
(martyred in 1415) were reformers before the Reformation. The
latter, after leaving the University of Prague, visited Oxford, and
imbibed Wycliffe’s principles while copying his works. This
ante-Lutheran reformation, though repressed by vigilant and
cruel persecutions, was not extinguished. Many families lin-
gered in Bohemia and Moravia from generation to generation,
Renewed Church of the Brethren. 109

 

retaining, in humble obscurity, the truth for which the Con-
stance martyrs had died. The papal persecutors deemed that in
destroying Jerome and Huss they had extinguished the new
movement on the continent of Europe; “but a spark from the
stake of Constance lighted up at last the flame of Methodism in
England and America.”

The formal organization of Unitas Fratrum, or Unity of the
Brethren (as the Moravian Church calls itself), may be dated in
1467, when their Society became an independent Church, and
their ministry was instituted—the Waldensian Bishop, Stephen,
consecrating to the episcopal office three men who had been sent
to him for that purpose by the Moravian Conference or Synod.
Toward the close of the fifteenth century, a Bohemian version of
the Bible was published. In the sixteenth century, they sent
several deputations to Luther, but were deterred from joining the
Lutheran or Calvinistic Churches because of the civil entangle-
ments and worldly elements connected with them. At their last
interview the great reformer bid them Godspeed, and took
leave of them in these words: “Do you be the apostles of the
Bohemians, as I and my brethren will be apostles of the Ger.
mans.” In the beginning of the seventeenth century, the pros.
perity of the Brethren was at its highest. The Unitas Fratrum
was composed of three provinces—the Moravian, the Bohemian,
and the Polish—each governed by its own bishops and confer.
ences, but all confederated as one Church, holding General Con-
ferences in common. Then began persecutions more vigorous
than ever before known. The Unitas Fratrum, as a récognized
organization, disappeared from the eyes of the world, and re-
mained as a “hidden seed” for nearly a century. In Moravia
many families secretly maintained the views of their fathers.
Among these a religious awakening took place in the first quar-
ter of the eighteenth century under Christian David’s preach-
ing, which was followed by the usual persecutions; and several
Moravians escaped from their native country with David, and
found. refuge at Berthelsdorf, an estate in Saxony belonging to
Count Zinzendorf. This pious nobleman kindly received them,
and other Moravians soon joined them. They built a town, and
called it Herrnhut; introduced the discipline and perpetuated the
ministry of Unitas Fratrum, and in this way the anciert Church
was “RENEWED.”
110 History of Methodism.

 

Christian David, an earnest-minded carpenter, led the little
company to a piece of land near a mound (the Hutberg or Watch-
hill), where, lifting his ax, he cleaved a tree, exclaiming: “ Here
hath the sparrow found a house, and the swallow a nest for her-
self, even thine altars, O Lord of hosts!” In June, 1722, the
first tree was cut down; in October, the exiles entered their new
home. “The renewed Church of the Brethren” dates from the
foundation of Herrnhut, and in 1732 the infant community, then
numbering about six hundred members, first essayed to fulfill the
final charge of our ascending Lord by sending out its messengers
to the distant nations of the earth.* Most of them poor and des-
titute exiles, this feeble band of heroic men sent out, during the
short period of nine or ten years, missionaries to Greenland, to
the West Indies, to the Indians of North America, to Lapland,
to Tartary, to Algiers, to Guinea, to the Cape of Good Hope, and
to the Island of Ceylon. Having been nearly extinguished in

 

*The “Brethren,” both in America and in Europe, never increased as did many
other denominations of Christians. The fundamental principle underlying the
efforts of Zinzendorf and his coadjutors, on behalf of the Church at home, was
Spener’s idea of ecclesiole in ecclesia—little churches within the Church—house-
holds of faith whose members should be separated as much as possible from the
world, and which should constitute retreats where men could hold undisturbed
communion with God. This idea, begun at Herrnhut, resulted in the establish-
ment of Moravian settlements—that is, towns founded by the Church, where no
one who is not a member was permitted to own real estate, although strangers,
complying with the rules of the community, were allowed to lease houses. A sys
tem so exclusive kept the Church small, although it was of great advantage in
other respects, and served to foster the missionary zeal which has distinguished
the Moravians. The last General Synod, held at Herrnhut in 1857, remodeled
the constitution, and opened the way for a more general development of the re-
sources of the Church in the home field. The Unitas Fratrum now consists of
three provinces—the American, Continental, and British—which govern them-
selves in all provincial matters, but are confederated as one Church in respect to
general principles of doctrine and practice, and the prosecution of the foreign mis-
sion work. Each province hasa Synod. For the general government of the three
provinces and the foreign missions there is a General Synod, which meets every
ten or twelve years, and to which each province sends the same number of dele-
gates. The executive board of the General Synod is called the “Unity’s Elders’
Conference,” and is the highest judicatory for the whole Unitas Fratrum, when
that Synod is not in session. In the American province there are two districts,
The seat of government for the Northern District is at Bethlehem, Pennsylvania;
and for the Southern, at Salem, North Carolina. The home Church in 1860 num-
bered 19,633 members, while there were 312 missionaries in the foreign field (not
counting native assistants), and 74,538 converts.—Appleton’s Oyelopedia.
Peter Bohler—His Experience. 111

 

the persecutions of the seventeenth century, they took measures,
by planting their Church in many lands, that defied general sup.
pression for the future.

Zinzendorf, a Lutheran, was converted to the faith of his exile-
guests, relinquished all worldly honors, became a bishop of the
“Brethren,” and devoted his life and estate to their service. His
first episcopal act was to ordain Peter Bohler (Dec. 16, 1737) as
pastor of the infant church at Savannah and evangelist to the
negroes of Carolina, with official instructions to visit Oxford, on
his way to the distant field of labor.

Peter Bohler was born at Frankfort, 1712. He was educated
in the University of Jena, where he also studied theology. When
sixteen years of age, he joined the Moravians. His boyhood,
though not unchecked by the monitions of conscience, nor desti-
tute of vigorous efforts after a purer morality, was wild and
wicked. Bohler’s associates at Frankfort were not helpful to
him, either in intellectual pursuits or the discipline of the heart.
He speaks of them as “his gormandizing, tippling, and fighting
countrymen.” Several members of the roystering band having
been recently transferred to Jena, his spiritual danger was ex-
treme. Happily, a pious student, afterward a bishop, who had
come to Jena a few days before the arrival of his friend, was so
disgusted with the state of morals that he had sought refuge
with the “ Brethren;” and when Bohler reached the post-house,
at one in the morning, he found Baumeister in attendance, to
conduct him to the house where their religious meetings were
held. Bohler, without any definite purpose, followed him to the
place; and when in the early morning he was assailed by the
importunities of the godless party, who besought him to leave
the persecuted pietists, he was deaf to their entreaties and their
taunts, and felt as though “restrained by an invisible hand.”

One day Bihler attended a meeting held by Spangenberg,
then a professor in the university, in which he commented on a
pamphlet of Spener’s. A sentence expressive of the Saviour's
power to free from all sin caught the ear of Bohler. The effect
was instantaneous. “I have tried every thing in the world except-
ing this!” exclaimed the conscience-stricken student; “but this
I will try.” Retiring to the house of the pious deacon, where
he had secured lodgings, and found a welcome retreat from the
scoffs and profanity of the witlings and skeptics who unhappils
112 History of Methodism.

 

abounded, he resolved to seek the blessing of forgiveness in the
evangelical mode of which Spangenberg had been the faithful
expositor. After combating a perilous temptation to procras-
tinate, he, on the following Saturday, cast himself, in the spirit
of genuine penitence, at the Saviour’s feet; and, while engaged
in secret prayer, he was enabled to believe upon the Son of God,
and immediately realized the peace and joy he had so long and
so earnestly desired.

His conversion produced the legitimate effects. The witness
of the Spirit was his joyful experience; the New Testament was
his favorite study, and furnished him weapons of defense against
scoffers. From various causes the numberof the “associated
students” had been reduced to nine; and at their request Zin-
zendorf appeared, to redrganize the little band. It was during
the visit o. the Count to Jena in 1732 that the life-long attach-
ment between him and Bohler was formed. Between the two
a most sacred vow was made that they would be true to the cause
and service of their common Lord even to the death.

By the direction of his father he removed to Leipsic—perhaps
to escape “enthusiasm;”’ but his residence at Leipsic was brief;
and from causes which do not appear, he shortly returned to Jena.
Here his influence in promoting spiritual good was extensive and
powerful. The little band of nine increased to one hundred, of
whom more than half joined the Moravian Church. Many of
these reippear as evangelists and pastors in distant lands.

On recovering from an attack of fever, Bohler paid his first
visit to Herrnhut; and, while preaching “with a warm and melted
heart,” Schulius Richter, whom we shall meet in Georgia, was led
to the Saviour. Taking leave of his Jena friends in a love-feast,
attended by many to whom he had been the instrument of salva-
tion, and followed by their prayers and tears, Béhler set out for
London, where he arrived early in February, 1738, accompanied
by two of his brethren. On the day of his arrival, John Wesley
delivered to him a letter addressed to Zinzendorf, from John
Toltschig, a Moravian minister, whose acquaintance Wesley hsd
formed in Savannah.

Wesley’s journal notices the event:

February 7th. A day much to be remembered. At the house of Mr. Wei-

nantz,a Dutch merchant, I met Peter Béhler, Schulius Richter, and Wensel Neiser,
just then landed from Germany. Finding they had no acquaintance in England,
Peter Bohler and the Wesleys. 1B

 

I offered to procure for them a lodging, and did so, near Mr. Hutton’s, where J
then was. And from this time I did not willingly lose any opportunity of con-
versing with them while I staid in London.

Peter Bohler did not finally leave London till the beginning
of May; and during this interval he was very active in his efforts
to do good. Many were awakened and not a few converted un-
der his plain and scriptural teaching. His instrumentality in
bringing the Wesleys to right views and sound experience may
be seen by a few notices from his private papers, and brief
extracts from the journals of the two brothers—both of whom
being in the same condition, Bohler’s counsel was as applicable
to the one as to the other. Doubtless, the nature of the faith by
means of which the penitent sinner receives justification, and
which is followed by the assurance of the Divine favor—that faith
which Bohler had exercised in his private room at Jena, but
which the Wesleys had not yet put forth—formed the central
topic of discourse.*

Charles became Bohler’s teacher in English; but meantime
conversation was not restrained with the foreigner. John spoke
German, and the two brothers, for five or six years, had been
accustomed to converse in Latin when by themselves, and here
Bohler was at home. What transpired between the 7th and 17th
of February is at best matter of conjecture; but on the latter
day the two brothers and their German friend proceeded by coach
to Oxford. The reproach which had been formerly endured, now
revived; and even as they walked through the squares of the
colleges, they became the occasion of derisive laughter. Bdhler,
perceiving that Wesley was troubled chiefly for his sake, said,
with a smile, “Mi frater, non adheret vestibus.” [My brother, it
does not even stick to our clothes. |

“All this time,” observes John Wesley, “I conversed much
with Peter Bohler; but I understood him not, and least of all
when he said, ‘Mi frater, mi frater, excoquenda est ista tua philoso-
phia.’” [My brother, my brother, that philosophy of yours must
be purged away.] During the journey, Bohler’s mind had been
painfully exercised. He writes to Zinzendorf: “I traveled with
the two brothers, John and Charles Wesley, from London to
Oxford. The elder, John, is a good-natured man; he knew he

 

*Memorials of the Life of Peter Béhler, by Rev. J. P. Lockwood; with an in
‘roduction by a Thos. Jackson. London: Wesleyan Conference Office, 1868
114 History of Methodism.

 

did not properly believe on the Saviour, and was willing to be
taught. His brother is at present very much distressed in his
mind, but does not know how he shall begin to be acquainted
with the Saviour. Our mode of believing in the Saviour is so
easy to Englishmen that they cannot reconcile themselves to it;
if it were a little more artful, they would sooner find their way
into it.”

Bohler’s powers of conversation were attractive. Escorted Ly
a graduate, he proceeded to examine the university library;
and after spending half an hour amidst its literary treasures,
he addressed his learned companion in the Latin tongue, and
kept him spell-bound for two hours, as he discoursed on
“the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world.”
Blessings attended his interpreted discourses both in London
and Oxford, and a work was begun, says Wesley, “such as will
never come to an end, till heaven and earth pass away.” In his
instructions to visit the ancient seat of learning, we recognize the
guidance of “ Him who holdeth the seven stars in his right-hand,”
who has made the spiritual interests of his Church the object of
his ceaseless care, and whose prerogative it is to select, prepare,
and bless the agents employed for its revival and prosperity.

John returned to preach in London and to visit his mother,
leaving his brother both tutor and pupil to the German evangel-
ist. Charles records in his journal, under February 22: “I had
some close conversation with Peter Bohler. He talked much of the
necessity of prayer and faith.” A few days afterward, the bard
of Methodism was nigh unto death from pleu'ssy. Bohler was
at his bedside. The journal continues: ;

I asked him to pray for me. He seemed unwilling a) mst; Lut beginning very
faintly, he raised his voice by degrees, and prayed for ay recovery with a-strange.
confidence. He asked me, “Do you hope to be saved?” “Yes.” “For what
reason do you hope it?” “Because I have used my vest endeavors to serve God.”
He shook his head, and said no more. I thought him very uncharitable, saying
in my heart: “What, are not my endeavors a sufficient ground of hope? Woulu
he rob me of my endeavors? I have nothing else to trust to.”

John’s journal says: ‘Thursday morning, March 2d, a message
that my brother Charles was dying at Oxford obliged me to set
_ out for that placé immediately.” He reached the lodgings of
his afflicted brother on Saturday, March 4th, and writes: “I found
my brother at Oxford, recovering from his pleurisy; and with
him Peter Bohler—by whom, in the hands of the great God,.J
Peter Bohler and the Wesleys. 115

 

was on Sunday, the 5th, clearly convinced of unbelief, of the
want of faith whereby alone we can be saved.”

From Bohler we learn that the event so fraught with future
blessings occurred during a quiet evening walk. “I took a walk
with the elder Wesley, and asked him about his spiritual state.”

Good seed having been sown among students and citizens in
Oxford, the work is resumed in London. On Thursday, March
23d, Wesley wrote thus in his journal: “I met Peter again, who
now amazed me more and more by the accounts he gave of the
fruits of living faith—the holiness and happiness which he af
firmed to attend it. The next morning I began the Greek Tes
tament again, resolving to abide by ‘the law and the testimony,’
and being confident that God would hereby show me whether
this doctrine was of God.’ On the first of the following April,
we read in his journal: “Being at Mr. Fox’s society, my heart
was so full that I could not confine myself to the forms of prayer
which we were accustomed to use there. Neither do I purpose
to be confined to them any more, but to pray indifferently, with
a form or without, as may be suitable to particular occasions.”

The next day, being the Sabbath, he speaks of his minis-
terial labors, and adds: “JI see the promise; but it is afar off.”
April 22d, another interview occurred; and the journals of Wes-
ley and of Boéhler are mutually illustrative and suggestive. “I
met Peter Bohler once more,” writes Wesley. “I had now no
objection to what he said of the nature of faith—namely, that it
is (to use the words of our Church) ‘a sure trust and confidence
which a man hath, that through the merits of Christ his sins are
forgiven, and he reconciled to the favor of God.’ Neither could
I deny either the happiness or holiness which he described as
‘the fruits of living faith.’ But I could not comprehend what
he spoke of an instantaneous work. I could not understand how
this faith should be given in a moment; how a man could at once
be thus turned from darkness to light, from sin and misery to
righteousness and joy in the Holy Ghost. I searched the Script-
ures again, touching this very thing, particularly the Acts of the
Apostles, but, to my utter astonishment, found scarce any in-
stances there of other than instantaneous conversions—scarce any
so slow as that of St. Paul, who was three days in the pangs of
the new birth. I had but one retreat left, namely: ‘Thus, I
grant, God wrought in the first ages of Christianity; but the
116 History of Methodism.

times are changed. What reason have I to believe he works in
the same manner now?’ But on Sunday, 23d, I was beat out of
this retreat too, by the concurring evidence of several living
witnesses, who testified God had so wrought in themselves, giv-
ing them, in a moment, such a faith in the blood of his Son as
translated them out of darkness into light, and from sin and fear
into holiness and happiness. Here ended my disputing. I could
now only cry out, ‘Lord, help thou my unbelief!’”

“T took,” says Peter Bohler, “four of my English brethren to
John Wesley, that they might relate their experience to him, how
the Saviour so soon and so mightily has compassion, and accepts
thesinner. They told, one after another, what had been wrought
in them; Wolff, especially, in whom the change was quite recent,
spoke very heartily, mightily, and in confidence of his faith.
John Wesley and those that were with him were as if thunder-
struck at these narrations. I asked him what he then believed.
He said four examples were not enough to prove the thing. To
satisfy his objections, I replied I would bring eight more here
in London. After a short time he stood up and said: ‘ We will
sing that hymn, Hier legt mein Sinn sich vor dir nieder.’” *

 

My soul before thee prostrate lies,
To thee, her source, my spirit flies;
My wants I mourn, my chains I see;
O let thy presence set me free!

Bohler continues: “ During the singing of the Moravian ver-
sion, he often wiped his eyes. Immediately after, he took me
alone into his own room and declared ‘that he was now satisfied
of what I said of faith, and he would not question any more
about it; that he was clearly convinced of the want of it; but
how could he help himself, and how could he obtain such faith?
He was a man that had not sinned so grossly as other people.’
I replied that it was sin enough that he did not believe on the
Saviour; he should not depart from the door of the Saviour until
he helped him. He wept heartily and bitterly as I spoke to him
on this matter, and insisted that I must pray with him.”

 

*The original was composed by a pious physician, well read in theology, and
connected with the Orphan-house at Halle at the time of Francke. He, along
with his brother, prepared the drugs which were known as the “medicines of
Halle,” which being in great repute, tended not a little to defray the expenses of
the institution, The above version is that of Wesley, 1739.—Lockwood.
Illness of Charles Wesley. 11/7

 

Wesley had not attained the blessing for which he so earnestly
sought: now he had clearer views. He began to declare that
doctrine of faith which he has been taught. For in answer to
his question whether he.ought not to leave off preaching, Béh-
ler replied: “Preach faith till you have it; and then, because
you have it, you will preach it.” He was also much confirmed
in the truth by hearing the experience of Mr. Hutchins, of Pem-
bioke College, and Mrs. Fox—two living witnesses,” he says,
“that God can at least, if he does not always, give that faith
whereof cometh salvation, in a moment, as lightning falling from
heaven.”

Blendon, the spacious residence of the Delamotte family, was no
stranger to Methodist visitors. John and Charles Wesley, and
Broughton. if no others, were there April 25. Charles’s journal
says: “ We sang, and fell into a dispute whether conversion was
gradual or instantaneous. My brother was very positive for the
latter, and very shocking; mentioned some late instances of gross
sinners believing in a moment. I was much offended at his
worse than unedifying discourse, and insisted a man need not
know when first he had faith. His obstinacy in favoring the
contrary opinion drove me at last out of the room. After din-
ner, I read the Life of Mr. Haliburton; one instance, but only
one, of instantaneous conversion.” ‘Three days later, he is at his
London lodgings, dangerously ill: ,

In the morning Dr. Cockburn came to see me; and a better physician—Peter
Bohler—whom God had detained in England for my good. He stood by my bed-
side and prayed over me; that now, at least, I might see the Divine intention in
this and my late illness. I immediately thought it might be that I should again

consider Béhler’s doctrine of faith; examine myself whether I was in the faith; and
if I was not, never cease seeking and longing after it till I attained it.

Wesley returned to Oxford, Bohler walking with him a few
miles; but he was hastily recalled by tidings of his brother’s re-
lapse, on whose spiritual condition he expresses himself thus:

May 1st The return of my brother’s illness obliged me again to hasten to Lon-

don. Inthe evening I found him better, as to his health, than I expected; but
strongly averse from what he called “the new faith.”

But after the interval of a single day this entry is found:

May 3d. My brother had a long and particular conversation with Peter Béhler.
And it now pleased God to open his eyes, so that he also saw clearly what was the
nature of that one true, living faith, whereby alone “throngh gr vce we are saved ”

H
118 History of Methodism.

 

Having fulfilled his brief mission in England, Béhler em-
barked for America, May 4, leaving the Wesleys hungering and
thirsting for the righteousness of faith. In ashort time Charles
found peace with God, as he lay on the.bed of sickness. As he
was the first of the brothers who received the name of Method-
ist, so was he the first to learn by experience the saving truth
which Methodism was destined to witness to the world. During
this interval he was visited by several persons, of whom some
had obtained “the pearl of great price,” and others were press-
ing hard after it; for a spirit of inquiry on the subject of religion
was then extensively excited, partly by the recent preaching of
Whitefield, partly by the private labors of Bohler, and partly by’
the preaching of John Wesley, who was admitted into several
of the London pulpits, and was followed by immense crowds of
people. A special interest attached to him as a returned mis-
sionary whose journal had been read, as well as a preacher of
strong, if not strange, doctrines. ;

As an illustration of the manner in which Charles Wesley
waited upon God for the gift of faith, and of the salvation con-
nected with it, the following selections from his journal are given:

May 12th. I waked in the same blessed temper, hungry and thirsty after God.
I began Isaiah, an’) seemed to see that to me were the promises made, and would
be fulfilled; for that Christ loved me. I found myself more desirous, more as-
sured, I should kelieve. This day (and indeed my whole time) I spent in dis-
coursing on faith, either with those that had it, or those that sought it; in reading
the Scriptures, and in prayer. At night my brother came, exceeding heavy. I
forced him (as he had often forced me) to sing a hymn to Christ; and almost
thought he would come while we were singing; assured he would come quickly.

May 14th. The beginning of the day I was heavy, weary, and unable to pray;
but the desire soon returned, and I found much comfort both in prayer and in the
word—my eyes being opened more and more to discover and lay hold upon the
promises. I longed to find Christ, that I might show him to all mankind; that I
might praise, that I might love him. Several persons called to-day, and were
convinced of unbelief.

May 17th. To-day J first saw Luther on the Galatians. I marveled that we
were so soon and s0 entirely removed from him that called us into the grace of
Christ, unto another gospel. Who would believe our Church had been founded
upon this important article of justification by faith alone? I am astonished I
should ever think this a new doctrine, especially while our articles and homilies
stand ur repealed, and the key of knowledge is not yet taken away.

May 21st, 1738. I waked in hope and expectation of His coming. At nine my
brother and some friends came and sang a hymn to the Holy Ghost. My comfort
and hope were hereby increased. In about half an hour they went. I betook
Charles Finds Rest to his Soul. lly

 

myself to prayer, the substance as follows: O Jesus, thou hast said, “I will come
unto you;” thou hast said, “I will send the Comforter unto you;” thou hast said,
“My Father and I will come unto you and make our abode with you.” Thou art
God, who canst not lie. I wholly rely upon thy most true promise. Accomplish
it in thy tie and manner.

While a pious mechanic who nursed him* was reading the
thirty-second Psalm—‘“ Blessed is he whose transgression is
forgiven, whose sin is covered. Blessed is the man unto whom
the Lord imputeth not iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no
guile ”’—he says: “The Spirit of God strove with my own, and
the evil spirit, till by degrees he chased away the darkness of my
unbelief. I found myself convinced, I knew not how nor when;
and immediately fell to intercession. I now found myself at
-peace with God, and rejoiced in hope of loving Christ. My tem-
per for the rest of the day was mistrust of my own great but un-
known weakness.”

“To use his own expressive language,” says Thomas Jackson,
“he held the Saviour with a trembling hand; but by prayer, spir-.
itual conversation, and the practical study of the inspired vol-
ume, his’ confidence waxed stronger, and his evidence of the Di-
vine favor became increasingly distinct and vivid.” +

When John Wesley left the sick-bed of his brother that morn-
ing, he went to one of the churches in London and assisted in the
administration of the Lord’s Supper. “On leaving the church,”
says he, “I received the surprising news that my brother had
found rest to his soul. His bodily strength returned also from
that hour. ‘Who is so great a God as our God?’”

John Wesley was stilla mourner. His heart was heavy. He
was doubtless greatly encouraged by his brother’s happy expe-
rience. On the day after he had found peace, Charles says: ‘“My
brother coming, we joined in intercession for him. In the even-
ing we sang and prayed again.” Two more days, and then, on May
24, at five in the morning, Wesley opened his Testament on these
words: “ Whereby are given unto us exceeding great and precious
promises, that by these ye might be partakers of the divine nat-

 

*He says, in his journal: “God sent Mr. Bray to me, a poor, ignorant mechan-
ic, who knows nothing but Christ; yet, by knowing him, knows and discerns all
things.” Bray was a happy believer in the Lord Jesus, and was able, from his
own personal experience, as well as from the sacred volume, to teach even the ac-
complished collegian “the way of the Lord more perfectly” than he had hither-
to known it, This was May 21st, Whitsunday. f Life of C. Wesley.
120 History of Methodism.

 

are.” On leaving home he opened on the text, “Thou art not
far from the kingdom of God.” In the afternoon he went to St.
Paul’s Cathedral. The anthem was:

Out of the deep have I called unto thee, O Lord. Lord; hear my voice.

O let thine ears consider well the voice of my complaint.

Tf thou, Lord, wilt be extreme to mark what is done amiss, O Lord, who may
abide it?

Far there is mercy with thee; therefore shalt thou be feared.

O Israel, trust in the Lord for with the Lord there is mercy, and with him iv
plenteous redemption. .

And he shall redeem Israel from all his sins.

In the evening he went very unwillingly to a society in Alders-
gate-street, where a layman was reading Luther’s preface to the
Epistle to the Romans, describing saving faith. Possessed of it,
the heart is “cheered, elevated, and transported with sweet af.
fections toward God.” Receiving the Holy Ghost through faith,
the man “is renewed and made spiritual,” and he is impelled te
fulfill the law “by the vital energy in himself.” Wesley says:

About a quarter before nine, while he was describing the change which God
works in the heart through faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely warmed. I
felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone, for salvation; and an assurance was given
me that he had taken away my sins, even mine, and saved me from the “law of
sin and death.” I began to pray with all my might for those who had in a more
especial manner despitefully used me and persecuted me. I then testified openly
to all there what I now first felt in my heart. But it was not long before the en-
emy suggested, “This cannot be faith, for where is thy joy?” Then was I taught
that peace and victory over sin are essential to faith in the Captain of our salva-
tion; but that as to the transports of joy that usually attend the beginning of it,
especially in those who have mourned deeply, God sometimes giveth, sometimes
withholdeth them, according to the counsel of his own will. After my return
home I was much buffeted with temptations, but cried out and they fled away.
They returned again and again: I as often lifted up my eyes, and he sent me hel
froni his holy place. And herein I found the difference between this and my for-
mer state chiefly consisted. I wasstriving—yea, fighting—with all my might, under
the law as well as under grace. But then I was sometimes, if not often. conquered;
row I was always conqueror.

“ His experience,” says Richard Watson, “nurtured by habit-
ual prayer, and deepened by unwearied exertion in the cause of
his Saviour, settled into that steadfast faith and solid peace which
the grace of God perfected in him to the close of his long and
active life.”

Such was the way by which these men, who were to teach oth-
ers, at length came “into the liberty of the sons of God.” But
“By Grace are ye Saved Through Faith.” 121

 

for the thorns and briers through which they passed; but for the
wormwood and the gall they drank, during dreary years, they
had not been so well fitted to awaken, to comfort, and to guide
others. Being now possessed of the true key to all sound relig-
ious experience, and of a power in their ministry which they had
never wielded before, the brothers immediately entered upon an
energetic course of evangelical labor, calling sinners to repent-
ance, and proclaiming to rich and poor, old and young, men and
women of moral habits, and profligate transgressors, including
convicts under sentence of death, pardon and peace as “the com-
mon salvation,” to be obtained by all alike, through faith in the
blood of Christ. Others caught the theme and carried on the
work.*

Before the end of the month.Charles Wesley’s health was so
far improved that he was able to go abroad. In consequence of
his affliction he was, as yet, unable to address congregations in
public; but, like the apostles at Jerusalem, “daily, and in every
house,” where he could gain access, “he ceased not to teach and
preach Jesus Christ.” In private companies, where many re-
sorted to him, he read the Scriptures, sang hymns, related his
religious experience, and urged upon all the duty and privilege
of an immediate application to Christ, in faith for pardon and
peace and holiness. The most perfect picture of his feelings
and character at this period is that which was drawn years after-
ward by his own hand: “How happy are they, who their Saviour
obey!”

The doctrine of present salvation from sin, by faith in the Lord
Jesus, was like fire in his bones. His heart burned with love to
Christ, and with zeal for the advancement of his work and glory;
his bowels yearned in pity for the souls of unregenerate men,
while his faith set at defiance all opposition. Scarcely a day
passed but one or more persons were convinced of the truth, and
believed to the saving of their souls.

Eighteen days after his conversion (June 11th), John Wesley
preached before the University at Oxford that famous sermon
on “By grace are ye saved through faith”—henceforth his fa-
vorite theme, and the key-note of his ministry.t He describes
this faith and its fruits, answers objections, and shows that to
preach salvation by faith only is not to preach against holiness

 

* Watson’s Life of Wesley. +t No. I., in Standard Edition of his Sermons.
122 History of Methodism.

and good works. To the rich, the learned, the reputable before
him, he makes faithful application:

When no more objections, then we are simply told that salvation by faith only
ought not to be preached as the first doctrine, or at least not to be preached to all.
But what saith the Holy Ghost? “Other foundation can no man lay than that
which is laid, even Jesus Christ.” So, then, that “whosoever believeth on him
shall be saved,” is, and must bg, the foundation of all our preaching; that is, must
be preached first. “Well, but not to all.” To whom, then, are we not to preach
it? Whom shall we except? The poor? Nay; they have a peculiar right to
have the gospel preached unto them., The unlearned? No. God hath revealed
these things unto unlearned and ignorant men from the beginning. The young?
By no means. “Suffer these,” in anywise, to come unto Christ, “and forbid them
not.” The sinners? »Least of all. ‘“He came not to call the righteous, but sin-
ners, to repentance.” Why then, if any, we are to except the rich, the learned,
the reputable, the moral men. And it is true, they too often except themselves
from hearing; yet we must speak the words of our Lord. for thus the tenor of
our commission runs: “Go and preach the gospel to every creature.” If any man
wrest it, or any part of it, to his destruction, he must bear his own burden. But
still, “as the Lord liveth, whatsoever the Lord saith unto us, that we will speak.”

How could Wesley ever be called a papist, even by foolish en-
emies, when he preached doctrine so destructive of the Romish
delusion ?—“At this time more especially will we speak, that ‘by
grace are ye saved through faith,’ because never was the main-
taining this doctrine more seasonable than it is at this day.
Nothing but this can effectually prevent the increase of the Rom-
ish delusion among us. It is endless to attack, one by one, all
the errors of that Church. But salvation by faith strikes at the
root, and all fall at once where this is established. It was this
doctrine, which our Church justly calls the strong rock and foun-
dation of the Christian religion, that first drove popery out of these
kingdoms; and it is this alone can keep it out. Nothing but this
can give a check to that immorality which hath ‘overspread the
land as a flood.’ Can you empty the great deep drop by drop?
Then you may reform us by dissuasives from particular vices.
But lat the ‘righteousness which is of God by faith’ be brought
in, and so shall its proud waves be stayed.”

Such was the great doctrine which Wesley began to preach
in 1738. It was the preaching of this doctrine that gave birth
to the revival of religion—“ the religious movement of the eight-
eenth century ”’—called Methodism.
CHAPTER X.

Christian Experience: Its Place in Methodism—The Almost Christian— Wes
ley’s Conversion; His Testimony—The Witness of the Holy Spirit—The
Witness of Our Own Spirit—Joint Testimony to Adoption.

ie is not the truth, but the personal apprehension and appli-
cation of the truth, that saves. The concrete doctrine, as
embodied and illustrated in experience, is of at least equal
practical importance with the abstract doctrine, as stated in
books. Methodism puts emphasis on experience. St. Paul more
than once told how he was converted.. The subjective aspects of
Christianity, as presented in his epistles, are as striking as the
objective. Experimental religion is not a cant phrase; it ex-
presses a real and a great fact. It has been well said: Methodism
reversed the usual policy of religious sects, which seek to sustain
their spiritual life by their orthodoxy; it has sustained its ortho-
doxy by devoting its chief care to its spiritual life, and for more
than a century had no serious outbreaks of heresy, notwithstand-
ing the masses of untrained minds, gathered within its pale, and
the general lack of preparatory education among its clergy. No
other modern religious body affords a parallel to it in this re-
spect.*

The doctrine of conscious conversion, and of a direct witnéss
of the Spirit testifying to the heart of the believer that he is a
child of God, was the doctrine which exposed the founder of
Methodism to the opposition of the formalists of the Church,
and the ridicule of the philosophists of the world. His personal
experience connects itself with this doctrine. He has made the
full disclosure; and according to an eminent authority “it is the
only true key to his theological system and to his public minis.
try.” + It would be difficult, he thinks, to fix upon a more inter.
esting and instructive moral spectacle than that which is present-
ed by the progress of his mind, through all its deep and serious
agitations, doubts, difficulties, hopes, and fears, from his earliest
religious awakenings to the moment when he found that stead-
fast peace which never afterward forsook him, but gave serenity

 

* Stevens’s History of Methodism. f Watson’s Life of Wesley.
£128)
‘124 History of Methodism.

 

to his countenance, and cheerfulness to his heart, to the last mo-
ment of a prolonged life. This critical passage of Wesleyan
biography is thus defended by Watson against the solutions or
cavils of men whose treatment of the subject is as unjust to Chris-
tianity as to Methodism:

“Tf the appointed method of man’s salvation, laid down in the
gospel, be gratuitous pardon through faith in the merits of Christ’s
sacrifice, and if a method of seeking justification by the works
of moral obedience to the Divine law be plainly placed by St.
Paul in opposition to this, and declared to be vain and fruitless;
then, if in this way the Wesleys sought their justification before
God, we see how true their own statement must of necessity have
been—that, with all their efforts, they could obtain no solid peace
of mind, no deliverance from the enslaving fear of death and final
punishment, because they sought that by imperfect works which
God .has appointed to be attained by faith alone. Theirs was
not, indeed, a state of heartless formality and self-deluding Phar-
isaism, aiming only at external obedience. It was just the re-
verse of this; they were awakened to a sense of danger, and they
aimed at—nay, struggled with intense efforts after—universal ho-
liness, inward and outward. But it was not a state of salvation;
and if we find a middle state like this described in the Scriptures
—a state in transit from dead formality to living faith and moral
deliverance—the question, with respect to the truth of their rep-
resentations as to their former state of experience, is settled.

“Such a middle state we see plainly depicted by the Apostle
Paul, in the seventh chapter of the Epistle to the Romans. There
the mind of the person described ‘consents to the law that it is
good,’ but finds in it only greater discoveries of his sinfulness
and danger; there the effort, too, is after universal holiness— to
will is present,’ but the power is wanting; every struggle binds
the chain tighter; sighs and groans are extorted, till self-despair
succeeds, and the true Deliverer is seen and trusted in: ‘O
wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of
this death? I thank God through Jesus Christ my Lord.’ The
deliverance also, in the case described by St. Paul, is marked
with the same characters as those exhibited in the conversion of
the Wesleys: ‘There is now no condemnation to them which are
in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh but after the Spir-
it; for the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made
Wesley’s Steadfast Lestimony. 125

 

me free from the law of sin and death.’ ‘Therefore, being jus-
tified by faith, we have peace with God, through our Lord Jesus
Christ.’ Every thing in the account of the change wrought in
the two brothers, and several of their friends about the same
time, answers, therefore, to the New Testament. Nor was
their experience, or the doctrine upon which it was founded,
new, although in that age of declining piety unhappily not com.
mon.”

Southey, against whose callous and flippant criticism Watson
more especially wrote, thought Wesley’s feelings might have been
accounted for by referring to “the state of his pulse or stomach.”
But it does not appear that his health was at all disordered.
Fanaticism and enthusiasm are terms in plentiful use. Coleridge,
in a marginal note, explains the phenomenon of Wesley’s conver-
sion as “a throb of sensibility accompanying a vehement volition of
acquiescence.” The world has not ceased to wonder why Southey
—the ci-devant Socinian—should write the life of John Wesley.
Total want of sympathy for the best parts of his subject “ren-
dered him as incapable of laying down the geography of the
moon as of giving the moral portraiture of Wesley.” His in-
competency for such a task was aptly expressed by one of Wes-
ley’s early biographers: “Sir, thou hast nothing to draw with,
and the well is deep.” *

That so devout and self-denying a man should be a stranger
to the full salvation—only an “almost Christian ”—offends the
formalist. On May 24, 1738, John Wesley “received such a
sense of the forgiveness of sins as till then he never knew.” This
was his steadfast testimony. The place and the hour—“about a
quarter before nine” —he circumstantially and minutely recollects.
His testimony is: “I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I
did trust in Christ, Christ alone, for salvation; and an assurance
was given me that he had taken away my sins, even mine.” This
must be accepted as the time of his conversion—meaning, by this
term, his obtaining the conscious forgiveness of his sins, and
the witness of the Holy Ghost to his adoption as a child of God.

 

*Southey purposed making the amende honorable in a third edition, for his mis-
conception, and accordingly his misrepresentation, of Wesley, that “the love of
power was the ruling passion of his mind;” but this modification of the work was
suppressed by his son, a bigoted Churchman, on whom the responsibility of its pub-
Ueation was devolved. See “Smith’s History of Wesleyan Methodism,” page 638
126 History of Methodism.

 

In the primary sense of conversion—a turning from sin to God,
with some measure of faith—the “good work” seems to have been
begun in him before. Referring to the past, he testifies: “ During
this whole struggle between nature and grace, which had now con-
tinued above ten years, I had many remarkable returns to prayer,
especially when I was in trouble; I had many sensible comforts,
which are indeed no other than short anticipations of the life of
faith. But I was still under the law, not under grace—the state
most who are called Christians are content to live and die in.
For I was only striving with, not freed from, sin; neither had I
‘the witness of the Spirit with my spirit.’” .

He had long been a subject of gracious influence; and while
writing bitter things against himself and condemning his spirit-
ual state, he had much to be thankful for. Consequently in his
later ministry, and in the final revision of his journal, we find
certain expressions of a former date guarded and qualified by
his own hand.* Returning from Georgia, he wrote:

It is now two years and almost four months since I left my native country, in
order to teach the Georgian Indians the nature of Christianity; but what have I
learned myself in the meantime? Why (what I the least of all suspected), that
I, who went to America to convert others, was never myself converted to God. (I
am not sure of this.)

The concluding parenthesis was added afterward by himself.

Recounting, in the same meditation, what he had doné and
suffered in the cause of Christ, he said:

Does all this give me a claim to the holy, heavenly, divine character of a Chris-
tim? By no means. If the oracles of God are true, if we are still to abide by
“the law and the testimony;” all these things, though, when ennobled by faith in
Christ,t they are holy and just and good, yet without it are “dung and dross.”

This foot-note was subsequently inserted to the last sentence:
“tT had even then the faith of a servant, though not that of a son.”

In this searching meditation he expressed a severe opinion:

This, then, have I learned in the ends of the earth—that I “am fallen short
of the glory of God;” that my whole heart is “altogether corrupt and abomi-
nable;” and, consequently, my whole life (seeing it cannot be that an “evil tree”
should “bring forth good fruit”); that “alienated” as I am from “the life of God,”
IT am “a child of wrath,” an heir of hell

The final foot-note is short but expressive: “I believe not.”

 

*Wesley’s Journal: In two volumes. From the latest London edition; with
last corrections of the author. New York edition: 1837.
“The Almost Christian.” 127

 

His journal before quoted has described an interview of
memorable consequence, which occurred in March of this year:
Saturday, 4. I found my brother at Oxford, recovering from his pleurisy; and
with him Peter Béhler; by whom (in the hand of the great God) I was, on Sunday,

the 5th, clearly convinced of unbelief, of the want of faith whereby alone we are
saved. (With the full Christian salvation.)

The concluding parenthesis was added afterward by himself.*

These last touches to his journal are noteworthy. Without
withdrawing Wesley’s good confession, they give his maturest
views and self-interpretation, in tenderness and charity to those
in whom is a spark of grace, or faith as a grain of ‘mustard-seed.
He would not break the bruised reed or quench the smoking flax.
Against Molther, who held that no man has any degree of saving
faith before he has the full assurance, the abiding witness of the
Spirit, Wesley maintained the thesis that “There are degrees in
faith, and that a man may have some degree of it before all things
in him are become new; before he has the full assurance of
faith, the abiding witness of the Spirit.” None called more
loudly and constantly than he, “Let us go on to perfection;’
yet none was more tender and careful of the “weak in faith.’
Five months after his conversion, being asked by his brothei
Samuel what he meant by being made a Christian, John re.
plied: “By a Christian, I mean one who so believes in Christ
as that sin hath no more dominion over him; and in, this obvioug
sense of the word, I was not a Christian til the 24th of May last
past. Till then sin had dominion over me, although I fought tvith
it continually; but from that time to this it hath not. Such is
the free grace of God in Christ. If you ask me by what means
I am made free, I answer, by faith in Christ; by such a sort or
degree of faith as I had not till that day.”

Three years later, preaching before the university on “The
Almost Christian,” { he allows to such a character sincerity and
many other excellent qualities—“a real desire to serve God, a

 

* At this period [about the time of their conversion] both the brothers under-
valued the grace which they had previously received, and which led them to do
and suffer many things for the glory of God, and the benefit of mankind. It is
nevertheless undeniable that until they received and exemplified the doctrine of
present salvation from the guilt and power of sin by faith in Christ, they had
neither of them attained to the true Christian character, as it is described in the
wpostolical epistles—Juckson’s Life of C. Wesley, page 228.

+]Tife and Times of Rev. John Wesley, M.A. }{Sermon No. II
12s History of Methodism.

 

hearty desire to do his will. It is necessarily implied that a man
have a sincere view of pleasing God in all things; in all his con-
versation; in all his actions; in all he does, or leaves undone.
This design, if any man be almost a Christian, runs through the
whole tenor of his life. This is the moving principle, both in
his doing good, his abstaining from evil, and his using the ordi-
nances of God.” But thisis not enough. If any should inquire:
“Ts it possible that any man living should go so far as this, and,
nevertheless, be only almost a Christian? What more than this
can be implied in the being a Christian altogether? ”—the preacher
boldly meets ‘the question, speaking where his life and conversa-
tion had been well known:

“T answer, first, that it is possible to go thus far, and yet be
but almost a Christian, I learn, not only from the oracles of God,
but also from the sure testimony of experience. Brethren,
great is ‘my boldness toward you in this behalf.’ And ‘forgive
me this wrong,’ if I declare my own folly upon the housetop, for
yours and the gospel’s sake. Suffer me, then, to speak freely of
myself, even as of another man. I am content to be abased, so ye
may be exalted, and to be yet more vile for the glory of my Lord.
I did go thus far for many years, as many of this place can tes-
tify; using diligence to eschew all evil, and to have a conscience
void of offense; redeeming the time; buying up every opportunity
of doing all. good to all men; constantly and carefully using all
the private means of grace; endeavoring after a steady seriousness
of behavior, at all times and in all places; and God is my record,
before whom I stand, doing all this in sincerity; having a real
design to serve God; a hearty desire to do his will in all things; to
please him who had called me to ‘fight the good fight,’ and to ‘lay
hold on eternal life.’ Yet my own conscience beareth me witness
in the Holy Ghost that all this time I was but almost a Christian.”

After commending to his hearers that “right and true Chris-
tian faith””—“a sure trust and confidence which a man hath in
God, that, by the merits of Christ, his sins are forgiven, and he
reconciled to the favor of God; whereof doth follow a loving
heart, to obey his commandments ”—the university sermon con-
cludes: “ May we all thus experience what it is to be, not almost
only, but altogether Christians; being justified freely by his
grace, through the redemption that is in Jesus; knowing we have
peace with God through Jesus Christ; rejoicing in hope of the
The Servant and the Son. 129

 

glory of God; and having the love of God shed abroad in our
hearts, by the Holy Ghost given unto us!”

That the meaning of a foot-ncte before quoted may be under-
stood—* T had even then the faith of a servant, though not of a son”
—-we give an extract from one of Wesley’s sermons: *

But what is faith which is properly saving, which brings eternal salvation to
all those that keep it to the end? It is such a divine conviction of God, and the
things of God, as, even in its infant state, enables every one that possess it to “fear
God and work righteousness.” And whosoever, in every nation, believes thus far,
the apostle declares, “is accepted of him.” He actually is at the very moment ina
state of acceptance. But he is at present only a servant of God, not properly a son.
Meantime, let it be well observed that the “wrath of God” no longer “abideth on
him.”

Indeed, nearly fifty years ago, when the preachers commonly called Method-
ists began to preach the grand scriptural doctrine, salvation by faith, they were
not sufficiently apprised of the difference between a servant and a child of God.
They did not clearly understand that even one “who feareth God, and worketh
righteonsness, is accepted of him.” In consequence of this, they were apt to make
sad ihe hearts of those whom God had not made sad. For they frequently asked-
those who feared God, “Do you know that your sins are forgiven?” And upon
their answering “No,” immediately replied, “Then you are a child of the devil.”
No; that does not follow. It might have been said (and it is all that can be said
‘with propriety): “Hitherto you are only a servant, you are not a child, of God.
You have already great reason to praise God that he has called you to his honor-
able service. Fear not. Continue crying unto him, “And you shall see greater
things than these.”

And, indeed, unless the servants of God halt by the way, they will receive the
adoption of sons. They will receive the faith of the children of God, by his reveal-
ing his only-begotten Son in their hearts. Thus, the faith of a child is, properly
and directly, a divine conviction, whereby every child of God is enabled to testify,
“The life that I now live, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave
himself for me.” And whosvever has this, the Spirit of God witnesseth with his
spirit that he is a child of God. So the apostle writes to the Galatians: “Ye are
the sons of God by faith. And because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the spirit
of his Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father;” that is, giving you child-like
confidence in him, together with a kind affection toward him. This, then, it is
shat properly constitutes the difference between a servant of God and a child of
God. “He that believeth,” as a child of God, “hath the witness in himself.” This
the servant hath not. Yet let no man discourage him; rather, lovingly exhort
him to expect it every moment.

From the hour of his adoption as a son, Wesley was another
man, and his preaching another preaching. That was the gen-
esis of Methodism. Before, he worked for salvation; now, from
salvation. Before, his word was unfruitful, and his few converts

 

_* Sermon CY.: Text, Heb. xi. 6.
130 History of Methodism.

 

fell away without his presence and support; now, his word is
spirit and life, and the fruit abides. Before, he sought to save
himself; now, to save others. Before, he coveted solitude, and
declined the responsibility of two thousand souls at Epworth;
now, the world is not too wide for him, nor the care of all the
churches too heavy. When the sun passes meridian, thero is
no noise; but, from that supreme moment, all the shadows fall
the other way. Every tree and tower and spire of grass casts
its shadow in the opposite direction.

Distinguishable from justification, but closely connected with
it, is the doctrine of the direct witness of the Spirit. To
this, Methodism has borne an emphatic testimony. It is not
a Wesleyan dogma in the sense of having been discovered
by Wesley, or of being exclusively held by Wesleyans; but
they magnified it; they claimed it as the privilege of all be-
lievers, and they urged all to seek the full salvation. The doc-
«rine of the Trinity is called Athanasian; but Athanasius only
formulated what others accepted and what he intensely believed.
In all the controversies which arose respecting the religious ten-
ets of the early Methodists, it was invariably maintained that
theirs was “the old religion;” “the religion of the primitive
Church.” With respect to the doctrines which refer to the Di-
vine Being, the great catholic faith of the trinity in unity, and
also the fall of man, original sin, the eternal duration of rewards
and punishments, and other topics, the Methodists hold opinions
in common with all orthodox Churches. Those doctrines which
were made the subject of frequent conversation in the early Con-
ferences and of discourse in their sermons, and about which
opposition and controversy arose, pertained mainly to experi-
mental religion, and might be characterized not as new, but
as neglected or lost sight of.

None were more offended at the Wesleys than their eldest
brother. That High-churchman was scandalized at a clergyman
preaching to “tatterdemalions on a common,” and “never once
reading the liturgy.” In his anger he went so far as to wish
that those “canting fellows,” as he called the Moravians, “who
talked of indwellings, experiences, and getting into Christ,” had
never obtained any followers. Late in the year 1738 Samuel
Wesley wrote to his mother, complaining of the course of his
two brothers, and especially denouncing their doctrine of assur
The Witness of the Spirit. 131

 

ance. Her letter in reply so far gratified him and favored his
view as to take this ground: “If, upon a serious review of our
state, we find that in the tenor of our lives we have or do now
sincerely desire and endeavor to perform the conditions of the
gospel-covenant required on our parts, then we may discern that
the Holy Spirit hath laid in our minds a good foundation of a
strong, reasonable, and lively hope of God’s mercy through
Christ. This is the assurance we ought to aim at, which the
apostle calls ‘the full assurance of hope.’” Dr. A. Clarke re-
marks upon this, as proof that her knowledge was “by no means
clear and distinct” on the point. In the same letter she says:

You have heard, I suppose, that Mr. Whitefield is taking a progress through
these parts to make a collection for a house in Georgia for orphans,and such of the
natives’ children as they will part with to learn our language and religion. He
came hither to see me, and we talked about your brothers. I told him I did not
like their way of living, wished them in some place of their own, wherein they
might regularly preach, etc. He replied: “I could not conceive the good they did
in London; that the greatest part of our clergy were asleep, and that there never
was a greater need of itinerant preachers than now.” I then asked Mr. White-
field if my sons were not for making some innovations in the Church, which I
much feared. He assured me they were so far from it that they endeavored all
they could to reconcile Dissenters to our communion.

As soon as she conversed with her sons, and heard them speak
for themselves, Mrs. Wesley was convinced that their doctrine
was both rational and scriptural; and she waited on their minis
try with delight and profit to the end of her life.*

Six months after his conversion, John Wesley and his broth-
er Charles waited upon Dr. Edmund Gibson, Bishop of London,
fo answer the complaints he had heard against them, to the ef-
fect that they preached an absolute assurance of salvation. The
two being introduced, Gibson said: “If by assurance you mean
an inward persuasion, whereby a man is conscious in himself,
after examining his life by the law of God, and weighing his own
sincerity, that he is in a state of salvation, and acceptable to God,
I don’t see how any good Christian can be without such assur-
ance.” The Wesleys meant more by “assurance” than this;
but the doctrine, so far as it went, was one which they preached.
The next point was the charge that they were Antinomians, be-

 

*Samuel’s last letter to his mother has tl is lament and protest: It was with ex-
ceeding concern and grief I heard you had countenanced a spreading delusion so far
as to be one of Jack’s congregation. Is it not enough that I am bereft of both my
brothers, but must my mother follow too?”
182 History of Methodism.

 

cause they preached justification by faith only. To this they
replied: “Can any one preach otherwise who agrees with our
Church and the Scriptures?”

The first few years of Methodism were prolific of anti-Meth-
adist literature. The clergy began to bestir themselves, and the
war of pamphlets, expostulatory letters, and books, preceded
that of clubs and stones, which followed. Vicars, deans, curates,
rectors, chaplains, and bishops issued forth with sermons and
pastorals and tractates, abusing the Methodists, and warning
the people against them, as “restless deceivers,” “babblers,”
“novices in divinity,” “teachers of absurd doctrines,” “modern
enthusiasts,” “solifidians,” ‘“papists in disguise;” and things
not only false, but monstrously false, are asserted of them. One
of the most temperate productions was from a doctor of divinity,
a royal chaplain, and preacher to the Honorable Society of Gray’s
Inn, who published “A Caution against Religious Delusion,” in
the shape of ‘‘a sermon on the New Birth; occasioned by the
pretensions of the Methodists.” They are charged with “vain
and confident boastings,” with “gathering tumultuous assem-
blies to the disturbance of the public peace, and with setting at
naught all authority and rule,” with “intruding into other men’s
labors, and encouraging abstinence, prayer, and other religious
exercises, to the neglect of the duties of our station.” Before
the end of the year this sermon reached a sixth edition. Another
sermon, on “The Doctrine of Assurance,” by the chaplain to his
royal highness, Frederick, Prince of Wales (with an appendix),
was published (8vo, 39 pages), and had an extensive circulation.
The preacher argues that assurance “is given to very few, and
perhaps only to such whom God calls either to extraordinary
services or to extraordinary sufferings.” He further argues that
to profess to have received such an assurance savors of spiritual
pride, and cannot but produce bad results. The Bishop of Lon-
don published his “Pastoral Letter to the People of his Dio.
cese; by way of Caution against Lukewarmness on one hand,
and Enthusiasm on the other” (55 pages). Two-thirds of this
pamphlet are leveled against the Methodists.* Thirteen days
after the “Pastoral Letter” was published, Whitefield wrote an
answer to it, and in a firm but respectful way replied to all the
bishop's allegations. He concludes by charging Gibson with

* The Life and Times of Rev. John Wesley, M.A.

 
The Witness of the Spirit. 133

 

propagating a new gospel, because he asserts that “good works
are a necessary condition of our being justified in the sight of
God.” He maintains that faith is the only necessary condition,
and that good works are the necessary fruit and consequence.
“This,” he writes, “is the doctrine of Jesus Christ; this is the
doctrine of the Church of England; and it is because the gener-
ality of the clergy of the Church of England do not preach this
doctrine that I am resolved, God being my helper, to continue
instant in season and out of season, to declare it unto all men,
let the consequences as to me privately be what they will.”

Without losing time or temper in answering their accusers,
the Methodist preachers kept on their way, urging upon small
and great not only salvation by faith, but the witness of the
Spirit. Susanna Wesley had long been a Christian woman;
but this doctrine was one of which she had scarcely ever heard.
At the age of seventy, and only three years before her death, she
obtained the blessing for herself, and obtained it under the min-
istry of her son-in-law. Wesley writes:

September 3, 1739. I talked largely with my mother, who told me that, till a
short time since, she had scarce heard such a thing mentioned as the having God’s
Spirit bearing witness with our spirit; much less did she imagine that this was the
common privilege of all true believers; “therefore,” said she, “I never durst ask
it for myself. But two or three weeks ago, while my son Hall was pronouncing
those words, in delivering the cup to me, ‘The blood of our Lord Jesus Christ,’
which was given for thee,’ the words struck into my heart, and I knew God, for
Christ’s sake, had forgiven me all my sins.” I asked whether her father (Dr.
Annesley) had not the same faith, and whether she had not heard him preach it to
others. She answered: ‘He had it himself, and declared a little before his death
that for more than forty years he had no darkness, no fear, no doubt at all, of his
being accepted in the Beloved; but that, nevertheless, she did not remember to
have heard him preach—no, not once—explicitly upon it; whence she supposed
he also looked upon it as the peculiar blessing of a few, not as promised to all the
people of God.” *

As taught by the founder of Methodism, the witness of the

 

*In confirmation is the following from a sermon published by Dr. Annesley, in
1861: “There a-e believers of several growths in the Church of God: fathers,
young men, children, and babes; and as in most families there are more babes and
children than grown men, so in the Church of God there are more weak, doubting
Christians than strong ones, grown up to a full assurance. A babe may be born
and yet not know it; so a man may be born again and not be sure of it. Some
times they think they have grounds of hope that they shall be saved; sometimes
they think they have grounds of fear that they shall be condemned. Not know-
ing which might be most weighty, like a pair of balances, they are in equipoise”

I
134 History of Methodism.

 

Spirit was not the assurance of efernal salvation, as held by Cal-
vinistic divines, but the assurance given by the Holy Spirit to
penitent and believing persons that they are “now accepted of
God, pardoned, and adopted into God’s family.” It was a doc-
trine, therefore, which invited to no relaxation of religious effort,
and no irregularity of life; for, as the person who is now justi.
fied was once condemned, so, by falling into sin and unbelief,
he may in future come again into condemnation. And further,
as this justification, with its evidence, may be forfeited, so it may
be recovered; “our backslidings” may be “healed,” and the fa-
vor of God be again restored. Few divines, says Richard Wat-
son, have ever denied the possibility of our becoming assured of
the favor of God in a sufficient degree to give substantial com-
fort to the mind; since the more sincere and earnest a person is
in the affair of his salvation, the more miserable he must be if
there be no possibility of his being assured that the wrath of
God no longer abideth uponhim. “ Their differences have rather
respected the means-by which the contrite become assured of that
change in their relation to Almighty God, whom they have of.
fended, which in Scripture is expressed by the term justifica-
tion.” The question has been, By what means is the assurance
of Divine favor conveyed to the mind? ‘Some have concluded
. that we obtain it by inference only; others, by the direct testi-
mony of the Holy Spirit to the mind. Wesley held that both
direct and indirect testimony were the privilege of believers. His
most used and favorite text is: “The Spirit itself beareth wit-
ness with our spirit, that we are the children of God” (Rom. viii.
16);* on which he remarks:

None who believe the Scriptures to be the word of God can doubt the impor-
tance of such a truth as this—a truth revealed therein not once only, not obscure-
ly, not incidentally, but frequently, and that in express terms; but solemnly, and
of set purpose, as denoting one of the peculiar privileges of the children of God
It more nearly concerns the Methodists, so called, clearly to understand, explain,
and defend this doctrine, because it is one grand part of the testimony which God
has given them to bear to all raankind. It is by his peculiar blessing upon them
in searching the Scriptures, confirmed by the experience of his children, that this
great evangelical truth has been recovered, which had been for many years well.
nigh lost and forgotten.

Proceeding to expound “this joint testimony’ f to the great
fact that “we are the children of God,” he shows what is this

 

*Sermons X., XI., XI. + Note the Greek verh cvuuaprupec,
The Witness of the Spirit. 135

witness or testimony of our spirit, and what is the testimony of
God’s Spirit. The foundation of the former is laid in those nu-
merous texts of Scripture which describe the marks of the chil-
dren of God. One may reason thus: First, the Scriptures say,
by St. Paul, “As many as are led by the Spirit of God,” into
all holy tempers and actions, “they are the sons of God.” Sec-
ondly, I am thus “led by the Spirit of God.” Thirdly, he easily
goncludes, “therefore I am ason of God.” Again, by St. John:
“We know that we have passed from death unto life, because
we love the brethren.” One examining himself says: I love
Christians because they are Christians; I love the brethren;
therefore, I “have passed from death unto life.” Or, again, in
this way: He that now loves God, that delights and rejoices in
him with a humble joy, a holy peace, and an obedient love, is
a child of God. But I thus love, delight, and rejoice in God;
therefore, I am a child of God. The disciple is often and use-
fully thus employed, searching and trying his ways and thoughts,
and comparing his experience with the Bible standard. “ Yet
all this,” says Wesley, “is no other than rational evidence, the
witness of our spirit, our reason, or understanding. It all re-
solves into this: Those having these marks are children of God;
but we have these marks; therefore, we are children of God.”
Love, peace, gentleness, and other “fruit of the Spirit,”
may be found in the heart and life; also hatred of sin and jeal-
ousy for God’s honor, and strong desire for conformity to God’s
will. These are wrought by the self-same Holy Spirit in every
one that hath them, but they are not to be confounded with His
direct witness. A peculiarity of this “testimony of our spirit”
's, that though yielding a degree of comfort and hope, it never
rises to certainty. It is cumulative, but no accumulation of it
amounts to full assurance. Probability is its result and doubt
its companion. The humble-minded disciple is aware that the
heart is deceitful and wicked, and may easily magnify what
counts for, and extenuate what weighs against, its hope. Many
discoveries are made in the hidden recesses of the soul, as well as
in the cutward life, that raise the paiuful question, Can ull this
consist with a gracious state? Am I indeed a child of God?
“Now,” continues Wesley, “this is properly the testimony of
our own spirit.” And he proceeds to give his most important
definition: “But what is that testimony of God’s Spirit which is

 
136 History of Methodism.

superadded to and conjoined with this? How does He ‘bear
witness with our spirit, that we are children of God?’ It is hard
to find words in the language of men to explain ‘the deep things
of God.’ Indeed, there are none that will adequately express
what the children of God experience. But perhaps one might
say (desiring any who are taught of God to correct, to soften, or
strengthen the expression): The testimony of the Spirit is an in.
ward impression on the soul, whereby the Spirit of God directly
witnesses to my spirit, that I am a child of God; that Jesus Christ
hath loved me, and given himself for me; and that all my sins are
blotted out, and I, even I, am reconciled to God.”

Twenty years afterward, preaching on the same subje+t, he re-
peated this form of sound words: “After twenty years further
consideration, I see no-cause to retract any part of this. Neither
do I conceive how any of these expressions may be altered, so as
to make them more intelligible. Meantime,” he adds, “let it be
observed, I do not mean hereby that the Spirit of God testifies
this by any outward voice; no, nor always by an inward voice.
But He so works upon the soul by his immediate influence, and
by a strong though inexplicable operation, that the stormy wind
and troubled waves subside, and there is a sweet calm; the heart
resting as in the arms of Jesus, and the sinner being clearly sat-
isfied that God is reconciled.”

Of this “meridian evidence,” Wesley further speaks: “The
manner how the divine testimony is manifested to the heart I do
not take upon me to explain. Such knowledge is too wonderful
and excellent for me; I cannot attain unto it. The wind bloweth,
aud I hear the sound thereof; but I cannot tell how it cometh, or
whither it goeth. As no one knoweth the things of a man, save
the spirit of a man that is in him, so the manner of the things of
God knoweth no one, save the Spirit of God. But the fact we
know, namely, that the Spirit of God does give a believer such
a testimony of his adoption that while it is present to the soul
he can no more doubt the reality of his sonship than he can
doubt of the shining of the sun while he stands in the full blaze
of his beams.”

Wesley points out the error of those who, while admitting in
words the testimony of the Holy Spirit, mean only the inferential
evidence derived from the fruit of the Spirit; who, though speaking
of joint witnesses, yet “swallow up” the testimony of both in one-

 
The Witness of the Spirit. 137

 

But the point in question is, whether there be any direct testimony of the Spirit
at all; whether there be any other testimony of the Spirit than that which arises
from a consciousness of the fruit.

I believe there is; because that is the plain, natural meaning of the text: “The
Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God.” It
is manifest, here dre two witnesses mentioned, who together testify the same thing;
the Spirit of God, and our own spirit. The late Bishop of London, in his sermon
on this text, seems astonished that any one can doubt of this, which appears upon
the very face of the words. Now, “the testimony of our own spirit,” says the
bishop, “is one, which is the consciousness of our own sincerity ;” or, to express
the same thing a little more clearly, the consciousness of the fruit of the Spirit.
When cur spirit is conscious of this—of love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness,
goodness—it easily infers from these premises that we are the children of God.
Tt is true that the great man supposes the other witness to be “the conscious-
ness of our own good works.” This, he affirms, is the testimony of God’s Spirit.
But this is included in the testimony of our own spirit.

A few extracts from’ the writings of the older divines may
help to set forth the distinction and the doctrine:

It is the office of the Holy Ghost to assure us of the adoption of sons, to create
in us a sense of the paternal love of God toward us, to give us an earnest of our
everlasting inheritance. ‘The love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the
Holy Ghost, which is given unto us.” “For as many as are led by the-Spirit of
God are the sons of God.” And “because we are sons, God hath sent forth the
Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, Abba, Father.” “For we have not re-
ceived the spirit of bondage again to fear; but we have received the Spirit of
adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father. The Spirit itself beareth witness with
our spirit, that we are the children of God.” As, therefore, we are born again by
the Spirit, and receive from him our regeneration, so we are also assured by the
same Spirit of our adoption.—Pearson on the Oreed.

The Spirit which God hath given us to assure us that we are the sons of God,
to enable us to call upon him as our Father.—Hooker on Certainty of Faith.

From Dr. Owen “On the Spirit” (Rom. viii. 16): “‘The Spirit
itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the sons of
God;’ the witness which our own spirits do give unto our adop-
tion is the work and effect of the Holy Spirit in us; if it were
not, it would be false, and not confirmed by the testimony of the
Spirit himself, who is the Spirit of truth. ‘And none knoweth
the things of God but the Spirit of God.’ (1 Cor. ii. 11.) If he
declare not our sonship in us and to us, we cannot know it. How
doth he then bear witness to our spirits? What is the distinct
testimony? It must be some such act of his as evidenceth itself
to be from him, immediately, unto them that are concerned in it—
that is, those unto whom it is given.”
138 History of Methodism.

 

From Poole, “On Romans” (viii. 16): “ The Spirit of adoption
doth not only excite us to call upon God as our Father, but it
doth ascertain and assure us, as before, that we are his children.
And this it doth not by an outward voice, as God the Father to
Jesus Christ; nor by an angel, as to Daniel and the Virgin Mary;
but by an inward and secret suggestion, whereby he raiseth our
hearts to this persuasion, that God is our Father, and we are his
children This is not the testimony of the graces and operations
of the Spirit, but of the Spirit itself.”

Having stated a vital truth, more at large and more clearly than
others have done, Wesley turns attention to objections, and shows
how this joint testimony of God’s Spirit and our own may be
distinguished from presumption and delusion. That fanatics
can abuse it is not sufficient reason for “denying the gift of God,
and giving up the great privilege of his ¢hildren.” Justification
by faith, as taught by St. Paul, was objected to in his day as
leading to licentiousness. Divine truth must not be surrendered
or retired because human weakness or wickedness can pervert it.

The direct witness is never referred to in the book of God as
standing alone, but as connected with the other; as giving a joint
testimony—testifying with our spirit that we are children of God.
The “‘tree is known by its fruit;” hereby we prove if it be “of
God.” No man’s word can be taken for this inward witness
whose outward life does not answer to the profession:

By the present marks may we easily distinguish a child of God from a pre-
sumptuous self-deceiver. The Scriptures describe that joy in the Lord which ac-
companies the witness of his Spirit as a humble joy—a joy that abases to the dust,
that makes a pardoned sinner cry out: “Iam vile! What am I, or my father’s house?
Now mine eye seeth thee, I abhor myself in dust and ashes!” And wherever
lowliness is, there is meekness, patience, gentleness, long-suffering. There is a
soft, yielding spirit—a mildness and sweetness, a tenderness of soul, which words
cannot express. But do these fruits attend that swpposed testimony of the Spirit
in a presumptuous man? Just the reverse. The more confident he is of the favor
of God, the more is he lifted up; the nmiore does he exalt himself; the more haughty
and assuming is his whole behavior The stronger witness he imagines himself
tc have, the more overbearing is he to all around him; the more incapable of
receiving any reproof; the more impatient of contradiction. Instead cf being
more meek and gentle and teachable, more “swift to hear and slow to speak,”
he is more slow to hear and swift to speak.

“French prophets,” in Wesley’s day, brought this doctrine of

Divine assurance into discredit with some who did not consider
its limitations. Later, “Millerite prophets” in America claimed
2

The Witness of the Spirit. 189

 

this sanction for their calculations and predictions that the world
would come to an end on a certain day—now past. Such preten-
sions were unwarranted. This assurance is a joint testimony, and
it is promised on only one subject, and that the most important
in the world to every man—“Am Ia child of God?”

Reference is made to the test of experimental religion—“ the
experience of the children of God; the experience not of two or
three, not of a few, but of a great multitude, which no man can
number. It has been confirmed, both in this and in all ages, by
‘a cloud’ of living and dying ‘witnesses.’ It is confirmed by
your experience and mine,” says Wesley. “The Spirit itself hore
witness to my spirit, that I was a child of God, gave me an evi-
dence hereof; and I immediately cried, ‘Abba, Father!’ And
this I did (and so did you) before I reflected on, or was conscious
of, any fruit of the Spirit.”

The application of this strong and comfortable doctrine, in
such hands as John Wesley’s, may be foreseen:

To secure us from all delusion, God gives us two witnesses that we are his chil
dren. And this they testify conjointly. Therefore, “what God hath joined to-
gether, let not man put asunder.” Beware, then, thou who art called by the name
of Christ, that thou come not short of the mark of thy high calling. Beware
thou rest not, either in a natural state, with too many that are accounted good
Christians; or in a legal state, wherein those who are highly esteemed of men are
generally content to live and die. Nay, but God hath prepared better things for
thee, if thou follow on till thou attain. Thou art not called to fear and tremble,
like devils; but to rejoice and love, like the angels of God. Well, then, mayest
thou say, “Thanks be unto God for his unspeakable gift!” Thanks be unto God,
who giveth me to “know in whom I have believed;” who hath “sent forth the
Spirit of his Son into my heart, crying, Abba, Father,” and even now, “bearing
witness with my spirit, that I am a child of God!” And see that not only thy
lips, but thy life, show forth his praise.

To the material truth as set forth by Wesley—the direct testi-
timony of the Spirit for every believer—all Methodists agree.
As to an incidental or secondary point, whether or not this testi.
mony always precedes the testimony of our own spirit in the new
birth, there is not equal uniformity of opinion. Some expe-
riences which Wesley himself has published, with implied if not
express approval, can hardly be reconciled with the theory of the
invariable precedence of the Spirit’s testimony. The persons in
question were doubtless real Christians—walking in the best light
and comfort they had for months, it may be years, before receiv-
140 History of Methodism.

 

ing the “meridian evidence.” In the case of “sudden conver-
sions,” undoubtedly the first notice is from above, before the soul
has opportunity to perceive or reflect upon any fruit of the Spirit,
in regeneration, as manifested in the realm of consciousness.

There is such a witness, and all may haveit. After this fash-
ion Wesley presses home the truth, in conclusion:

Let none rest in any supposed fruit of the Spirit without the witness. There
may ve foretastes of joy, of peace, of love, und those not delusive, but really from
God long before we have the witness in ourselves—before the Spirit of God wit-
nesses with our spirits that we have “redemption in the blood of Jesus, even the
forgiveness of sins.” Yea, there may be a degree of long-suffering, of gentleness,
af fidelity, meekness, temperance (not a shadow thereof, but a real degree, by the
preventing grace of God), before we “are accepted in the Beloved,” and conse-
quently, before we have a testimony of our acceptance; but it is by no means ad-
visable to rest here; it is at the peril of our souls if we do. If we are wise,
we shall be vontinually crying to God, until his Spirit cry in our heart, “Ab-
ba, Father!” This is the privilege of all the children of God; and without
this we can never be assured that we are his children. Without this we cannot
retain a steady peace, nor avoid perplexing doubts and fears. But when we have
once received this Spirit of adoption, this “peace which passeth all understand-
ing,” and which expels all painful doubt and fear, will “keep our hearts and
minds in Christ Jesus.” And when this has brought forth its genuine fruit, all
inward and outward holiness, it is undoubtedly the will of him that calleth us to
give us always what he has once given; so that there is no need that we should
ever more be deprived of either the testimony of God’s Spirit or the testimony
of our own, the consciousness of our walking in all righteousness and true holiness.

The great fact and force in the Methodist revival was the ex-
perience and the preaching of this witness of the Spirit. Justi-
fication by faith had been stated in the homilies and articles of
the Church of England with the precision and frequency that
might be expected concerning the dogma on which the Reforma-
tion rested. Though lost sight of, and even opposed, it was there;
and the first Methodists appealed to those standards. Not so
with the doctrine of the Spirit’s testimony. It was obscurely
and inferentially supported from that quarter, while for obvious
reasons Calvinistic dissent dealt with it feebly and infrequently.
For if “once in grace always in grace” be true, then present as.
surance becomes the assurance of efernal salvation; and conse-
quences follow which practical morality hesitates to accept. It
was for the Methodists, standing on the evangelical, Arminian

platform, to proclaim the fact that the plan of redemption in its
completeness made provision not only for the forgiveness of sin,

but that men might know that their sins were forgiven.
The Witness of the Spirit. 141

 

The effect upon the preachers was inspiring. Embassadors of
God must be confident of their commission and of their message.
They are empowered to comfort his people, and in such a mes-
sage there is comfort. The personal.experience of evangelists
must be clear: “ We believe, and therefore speak.’”” Otherwise
their preaching may be entertaining, instructive, and, under great
earnestness, even awakening; but the lament to the prophet of
Israel is applicable to souls brought into salutary distress by such °
a ministry: “The children are come to the birth, and there is not
strength to bring forth.”

After the personal experience of this docrine by Wesley and
his ‘co-laborers, their word was in power, sinners trembled,
and great numbers were converted. “From this time,” is the
declaration of a leading Wesleyan, “they began properly to preach
the gospel.” They had labored with all their energy and abil
ity to establish the righteousness of the law, but neither knew
nor preached the doctrines of the new covenant, and its comforts.
Like all men destitute of personal and experimental faith and
hope and joy in the Lord, they never thought of offering pardon
and peace to the guilty through the alone merits of Jesus Christ;
and nothing short of this is the gospel.

What they had felt and seen with confidence they told, and men
listened to them as men in danger and trouble always will listen to
those who show them the way of salvation.. This witness of the
Spirit was the key-note of their ministry, the burden of their
songs, and the secret of their success. The weary and heavy-laden
were offered rest—rest for their souls. Those who had been taught
that chronic doubt was a sort of Christian virtue heard gladly
of a more excellent way. Happy converts testified and shouted.
The joy of the Lord was their strength. The voice of praise was
in their tabernacles. The fervor of their devotions and the zeal
of their evangelism—while defying the worldly and stirring up
the lukewarm—drew to Methodism the most earnest elements,
and gave it a place with the foremost in the Church militant.
CHAPTER XI.

Wesley Visits Herrnhut—Experiences of the Biethren—Wesley Returns to Em
gland; Begins his Life-work—Whitefield—The Pentecostal Season—Shut out
of the Churches—The Messengers Let Loose—Field-preaching Inaugurated.

EFORE Wesley entered upon his life-work, having no pre-

conceived plan or course of conduct but to seek good for
himself and to do good to others, he visited the Moravian settle-
ments in Germany. He had met Moravians on his voyage to
Georgia. At Savannah, Spangenberg was his first acquaintance.
On his return to London he found Bohler. Naturally he wished
to know more of this people; and three weeks after his conver-
sion, accompanied by his friend Ingham, he set out on his jour-
ney. Herrnhut, their chief settlement, most interested him and
there he tarried longest. Talents and learning did not prevent
him from feeling as “a babe” in Christ. Here he could con-
verse with persons of matured Christian knowledge, who had
made it their business and study to speak of divine things. Wes-
ley availed himself of this privilege, and wrote down the sub-
stance of what he was told of the religious experience of several
of the most distinguished of these disciples of Christ. He took
note of their discipline, and attended their love-feasts, confer-
ences, and Bible expositions to great profit; though not approv-
ing every thing he saw at this Jerusalem Church.

Christian David, the carpenter, by whose preaching and pio.
neering this colony had been founded, was happily at home,
lately arrived from mission-work in Greenland. “Four times,”
says Wesley in his journal, “I enjoyed the blessing of hearing
him preach, during the few days I spent here; and every time he
chose the very subject which I should have desired, had I spok-
en to him before. Thrice he described the state of those who
are ‘weak in faith,’ who have received forgiveness through the
blood of Christ, but have not received the constant indwelling of
the Holy Ghost. This state he explained once from ‘Blessed
are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven;’
when he showed at large, from various scriptures, that many are
children of God and heirs of the promises, long before they are

142
Experrences of the Brethren. 143

 

comforted by the abiding witness of the Spirit, melting their
souls into all gentleness and ‘meekness.’” In a private conver.
sation Christian David said that “for many years he had had
the forgiveness of sins, and a measure of the peace of God, be.
fore he had that witness of his Spirit which shuts out all doubt
and fear.” Another witness testified thus:

Maccin Déber, when I described my state to him, said he had known very many
believers who, if he asked the question, would not have dared to affirm that, they
were the children of God. And he added: “It is very common for persons to re-
ceive remission of sins, or justification through faith in the blood of Christ, be ore
they receive the full assurance of faith, which God many times withholds till he
has tried whether they will work together with him in the use of the first gift.
Nor is there any need (continued Déber) to incite any one to seek that assurance
by telling him the faith he has is nothing. This will be more likely to drive him
to despair than to encourage him to press forward. His single business, who has
received the first gift, is credendo credere et in eredendo perseverare (to believe on,
and to hold fast that whereunto he hath attained); to go on doing his Lord’s will,
according to the ability God hath already given, cheerfully and faithfully to use
what he has received.”

Wesley elicited the religious experience of Michael Linner,
the oldest member of the Church, which was to the effect that
Michael believed to the saving of his soul more than two years
before he received the full assurance of faith; though he admit-
ted that “the leading of the Spirit is different in different souls.
His more usual method is, to give in one and the same moment
the forgiveness of sins and a full assurance of that forgiveness.
Yet in many he works'as he did in me—giving first the remis-
sion of sins, and after some weeks, or months, or years, the full
assurance of it.” “This great truth was further confirmed to me,”
says Wesley the next day, “by the conversation I had with David
Nitschman, one of the teachers or pastors of the Church.” The
narrative of others was more of a Wesleyan kind, and confirmative
of the view that when sins are forgiven the Spirit at the same
moment gives the assurance of it.

Wesley’s characteristic fairness and his readiness to learn are
seen in his giving at.length experiences that differed circumstan-
tially, though not substantially, from hisown. Even now he be-
gan to comprehend a principle which a few years later he enun-
ciated and ever followed: “I trust we shall all suffer God to
carry on his own work in the way that pleaseth him.” He was
confirmed in the belief of that “meridian evidence that puts
144 History of Methodism.

 

doubt to flight.” Sooner or later they all had it, and its effects
in all were alike.

The fourth sermon of Christian David so impressed Wesley
that he wrote it out, and we here present his draught, as it so
well agrees with what he afterward uniformly taught:

The word of reconciliation which the apostles preached as the foundation of all
they taught was, that ‘“‘we are reconciled to God, not by our own works, nor by
cur own righteousness, but wholly and solely by the blood of Christ.” But you
will say, Must I not grieve and mourn for my sins? Must I not humble myself
before God? Is not this just and right? And must I not first do this before I can
expect God to be reconciled to me? I answer: It is just and right. You must
be humbled before God. You must have a broken and contrite heart. But then
observe, this is not your own work. Do you grieve that you areasinner? This
is the work of the Holy Ghost. Are you contrite? Are you humbled before God?
Do you indeed mourn, and is your heart broken within you? All this worketh
the self-same Spirit.

Observe again, this is not the foundation. It is not this by which you are jus-
tified. This is not the righteousness, this is no part of the righteousness, by which
you are reconciled unto God. You grieve for your sins, You are deeply humble.
Your heart is broken. Well; but all this is nothing to your justification.** The
remission of your sins is not owing to this cause, either in whole orin part. Your
humiliation and contrition have no influence on that. Nay, observe further, that
it may hinder your justification; that is, if you build any thing upon it; if you
think “I must be so or so contrite. I must grieve more before I can be justified.”
Understand this well. To think you must be more contrite, more humble, more
grieved, more sensible of the weight of sin, before you can be justified, is to lay
your contrition, your grief, your humiliation, for the foundation of your being jus-
tified; at least, for a part of the foundation. Therefore, it hinders your justifica-
tion; and a hinderance it is which must be removed before you can lay the right
foundation. The right foundation is not your contrition (though that is not your
own), not your righteousness, nothing of your own; nothing that is wrought in you
by the Holy Ghost; but it is something without you, viz., the righteousness and the
blood of Christ. For this is the word: “To him that believeth on God that jus-
tifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness.” See ye not that the
foundation is nothing in us? There is no connection between God and the un-
godly. There is no tie to unite them. They are altogether separate from each
other. They have nothing in common. There is nothing less or more in the un-
godly to join them to God. Works, righteousness, contrition? No. Ungodli-
ness only. This, then, do—if you will lay a right foundation—go straight to Christ
with all your ungodliness. Tell him: Thou whose eyes are as a flame of fire,
searching my heart, seest that Iam ungodly. I plead nothing else. I do not say
I sm humble, or contrite, but I am ungodly; therefore, bring me to Him that jus-
tifieth the ungodly. Let thy blood be the propitiation for me; for there is noth-
ing in me but ungodliness.

 

*“This is not guarded. These things do not merit our justification, but they are aheo-
lutely neceasary in order to it. God never pardons the impenitent.— Wesley's Journal
Wesley Begins his Life-work. 145

 

Here is a mystery. Here the wise men of the world are lost, are taken in their
own craftiness. This the learned of the world cannot comprehend. It is foolish-
ness unto them. Sin is the only thing which divides men from God. Sin (let
him that heareth understand) is the only thing which unites them to God; that
is, the only thing which moves the Lamb of God to have compassion upon them,
and by his blood to give them access to the Father. This is the word of reconcil-
iation which we preach. This is the foundation which never can be moved. By
faith we are built upon this foundation; and this faith also is the gift of God. It
is his free gift, which he now and ever giveth to every one that is willing to re-
ceive it, And when they have received this gift of God, then their hearts will
zielt for sorrow thai they have offended him. But this gift of God lives in the
heart, not in the head. The faith of the head, learned from men or books, is
nothing worth. It brings neither remission of sins nor peace with God. Labor,
then, to believe with your whole heart; 80 shall you have redemption through the
blood of Christ; so shall you be cleansed from all sin; so shall you go on from
strength to strength, being renewed day by day in righteousness and all true holi

ness.

The Oxford scholar, the learned Fellow, sat at the feet of this
plain but powerful man, who, when not engaged in preaching at
home or planting missions abroad, worked at his bench—type of
that generation of wise but unlearned preachers, unknown and
yet well known, who were to be raised up by the Head of the
Church, under Wesley’s labors: John Nelson, the stone-mason;
Samuel Bradburn, the shoe-maker; John Haime, the soldier;
and Thomas Olivers, the cobbler—fit successors of the fishermen
of Galilee; by whom the saving truth of the gospel was delivered
upon the mind and conscience of the people as they did not hear
it at St. Paul’s Cathedral or Westminster Abbey. “I would
gladly,” says Wesley, “have spent my life here; but my Master
calling me to labor in another part of his vineyard, I was con-
strained to take my leave of this happy place. O when shall
this Christianity cover the earth as ‘the waters cover the sea!’”
He adds in another place: “I was exceedingly comforted and
strengthened by the conversation of this lovely people, and re-
turned to England more fully determined to spend my life in
testifying the gospel of the grace of God.” He arrived in Lon-
don September 16, 1738, and immediately began to preach Christ
as he had never done before. The following entry in his jour-
nal shows the rate at which he started; and he kept it 1p for over
a half century: :

Sunday, 17th, I began to declare again in my own country the glad tidings of
salvation, preaching three times, and afterward expounding the Holy Scriptures

to a large company in the Minories. On Monday I rejoiced to meet our littie
10
146 History of Methodism.

 

 

society, which now consisted of thirty-two persons. The next day I went to the
condemned felons at Newgate, and offered them a free salvation. In the evening
T went to a society in Bear Yard, and preached repentance and remission of sins,
The next evening I spoke the truth in love at a society in Aldersgate street, etc.

So little ground is there for the insinuation, often made, that
he “early formed the scheme of making himself the head of a
sect:” Wesley seems to have had no plan beyond doing the duty
that lay next to him, and waiting on Providence for the next step
He was free to duty. His fellowship supported him, and no
public collections or private contributions were needed. Watson
says: “If he had any plan at all at this time, beyond what cir-
cumstances daily opened to him, and from which he might infer
the path of duty, it was to revive religion in the Church to whick
he belonged. Wherever he was invited he preached the obsolete
doctrine of salvation by grace through faith.” In London great
crowds followed him; the clergy generally excepted to his state-
ment of the doctrine; the “genteel” part of his audiences were
offended at the bustle of crowded congregations; and soon almost
all the churches of the metropolis, one after another, were shut
against him. He had, however, largely labored in various parts
of the metropolis in churches, rooms, houses, and prisons, and
the effects produced were powerful and lasting. A month sub-
sequent to his return, he wrote as follows to his Herrnhut friends:

We are endeavoring here to be followers of you, as ye are of Christ. Fourteen
have been added to us since our return, so that we have now eight bands, all of
whom seek for salvation only in the blood of Christ. . Though my brother and
[ are not permitted to preach in most of the churches in London, yet there are
others left, wherein we have liberty to speak the truth as it is in Jesus. Nor hath
he left himself without other witnesses of his grace and truth. Ten ministers I
know now in England who lay the right foundation—“ the blood of Christ cleans-
eth us from all sin.” Over and above whom I have found one Anabaptist, and
one, if not two, of the teachers among the Presbyterians here, who, I hope, love
‘he Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity, and teach the way of God in truth.

This shows that Wesley thought there were other clergymer
besides himself who were evangelical, and also, though converted,
that he still retained enough of his High-church prejudice to
make a difference between Church of England “ministers,” and
Presbyterian “teachers.” .

In December Whitefield arrived in England from America.
On hearing of his return, his friend “hastened to London,” and
they again ‘took sweet counsel together,” and encouraged each
‘The Pentecostal Season. 147

 

other in the service of their common Master. Whitefield was
not a little delighted to find a great increase of the work of God,
both as to light and love, doctrine and practice. He found that
those who had been awakened by his preaching a year ago had
“grown strong men in Christ, by the ministrations of his dear
friends and fellow-laborers, John and Charles Wesley.” The
old doctrine, of justification by faith only, had been much re-
gived; and he ended the eventful year of 1738 by preaching and
expounding, during the last week of it, not fewer than twenty-
seven times. But the churches closed up behind him. In three
days five were denied him, and he too, like the Wesleys, resorted
to the “society-meetings,” and their closer fellowship.

Wesley describes a scene at one of these meetings reminding us
of the Pentecostal baptism, by which the apostles were “endued
with power from on high” for their mission. He says, January
1, 1739, Messrs. Hutchins, Hall, Kinchin, Ingham, Whitefield,
and his brother Charles, were present with him at a love-feast
in Fetter-lane, with sixty of the brethren. About three in the
morning, as they were continuing instant in prayer, the power
of God came mightily upon them, insomuch that many cried out
for exceeding joy, and many fell to the ground. As soon as they
had recovered a little from the awe and amazement-which the
presence of the Divine Majesty had inspired, they broke out
with one voice: “ We praise thee, O God! we acknowledge thee
to be the Lord.” Whitefield exclaims: “It was a Pentecostal
season indeed!” And he adds, respecting these “society-meet-
ings,” that “sometimes whole nights were spent in prayer. Oft-
en have we been filled as with new wine, and often have I seen
them overwhelmed with the Divine Presence, and cry out, ‘ Will
God indeed dwell with men upon earth? How dreadful is this
place! This is no other than the house of God, and the gate of
heaven!’” January 5, seven of the despised Methodist clergy-
men (probably the seven just mentioned) held a conference at
Islington, on several matters of great importance; and after
prayer and fasting, “we parted,” says Whitefield, “with a full
conviction that God was going to do great things among us”’—a
conviction which was soon verified.

Incredible as it may seem, John Wesley, in that very church,
a few days afterward solemnly and rather demonstratively re.
baptized five Presbyterians, who had received lay baptism in their
148 History of Methodism.

 

infancy—that is, in the jargon of apostolic succession, they had
been baptized by Dissenting ministers—possibly by his own grand-
father, Dr. Annesley! Charles, about the same time, gave epis-
copal baptism to a woman who was dissatisfied with her lay bap-
tism; denominating the ordinance “ hypothetical baptism ”’—that
is, Christian baptism, provided the former administration of the
ordinance by a Dissenting minister were not in accordance with
the mind of God. To the discomfort of the archbishop, it was
noised about that this was done by his special sanction. The
thing was rendered unpopular just then by its connection with
Methodism. The two brothers got a sharp lecture from his
lordship. He strongly disapproved of their practice of rebap-
tizing persons who had been baptized by Dissenters, and showed
himself, in this respect, if not more liberal, at least better versed
in ecclesiastical law and usage than the two honest and ardent
young Methodists. More High-church nonsense! But the day
of light and enlargement is at hand, and Wesley will come out
of that. The habitual attitude of a man toward the truth is more
decisive of character than any opinions he may happen to hold at
a given time. If he is loyal to the truth, willing to know it and
do it, the truth will make him free. St. Paul, for all such cases
of prejudice and error, gives a solid ground for hopeful forbear-
ance: “And if in any thing ye be otherwise minded, God shall
reveal even this unto you.”

Whitefield wished to take collections for his Orphan-house,
but only two or three churches still remained at his command.
Preaching in one of them with “great freedom of heart and
clearness of voice,” while nearly a thousand people stood outside
the edifice, and hundreds went away for want of room, an idea
occurred to him not included in the plan of the sermon. “This,”
he says, “put me first upon ‘thinking of preaching without doors.
I mentioned it to some friends, who looked upon it as a mad no-
tion. However, we knelt down and prayed that nothing might be
done rashly. Hear and answer, O Lord, for thy name’s sake!”

Shut out of the London churches, he set off to Bristol. Pop-
ular as he had once been there, his Methodism now met the usual
disfavor and result. The chancellor distinctly threatened that,
if he continued to preach or expound in the diocese without
livense, he should first be suspended and then expelled. This
was the turning-point. Shutoutof the Bristol churches, he went.
Shut Out of the Churches. 148

 

oo February 17, and preached, in the open air, to two hundred
colliers at Kingswood. This was a bold step—a shocking de-
parture from Church rules and usages. The Rubicon was passed.
A clergyman had dared to be so irregular as to preach in the
cpen air! At the second Kingswood service, Whitefield says he
had two thousand people to hear him; and at the third, four
thousand; while, at the fifth service, the four thousand were in-
treased toten. He declares he never preached with greater power.
Day after day, and from place to place, he preached to congrega-
tions that no house could hold. March 18, his congregation at
Rose Green was estimated at not less than twenty thousand,
to whom he preached nearly an hour and a half. A gentle-
man loaned him a large bowling-green in the heart of Bristol,
and here he preached to seven or eight thousand people. All
this transpired within six weeks, and at nearly all these strange
and enormous gatherings Whitefield made a collection for his
Orphan-house in Georgia. ~

He took courage from the reflection that he was imitating the
example of Christ, who had a mountain for his pulpit and the
heavens for a sounding-board. “Blessed be God,” he writes,
“that the ice is now broke, and I have now taken the field. Some
may censure me, but is there not a cause? Pulpits are denied,
and the poor colliers are ready to perish for lack of knowledge.”

Kingswood was formerly a royal. chase, containing between
three and four thousand acres; but it had been gradually appro-
priated by the several lords whose estates encircled it. The deer
had disappeared, and the greater part of the wood also; coal-
mines had been discovered, and it was now inhabited by a race
of people differing as much from those of the surrounding
country in dialect as in appearance. They had no place of wor-
ship—for Kingswood was three miles distant from the parish
cbhurch—and were famous for neither fearing God nor regarding
man. Their condition was desperate.

When the Wesleys and Mr. Whitefield first gave indications
of an extraordinary zeal for the spread of religion, it was said
to them: “If you wish to convert heathens, go to Kingswood.”
The challenge was accepted, and their success among this bru-
tally ignorant and wicked people, for whose salvation no man
cared, was an event of the greatest significance. It encouraged
them to take hold of the worst cases and classes. None were

J
150 History of Methodism.

henceforth considered beyond reach. The Lord thus inereascd
the faith of the preachers; and also put an argument in the
mouths of their friends, and a practical demonstration before the
world of the saving and transforming power of the gospel, at the
very outset of the Methodist revival.

Whitefield’s marvelous powers as an orator found their full
play in this new arena, and his poetic spirit felt the grandeur of
the scene and its surroundings. The moral effect still more
deeply impressed him. Having no righteousness of their own
to trust in, the poor colliers were glad to hear that Christ was a
friend to publicans, and came not to call the righteous, but sin-
ners, to repentance. He could see the effect of his words by the
white gutters made by the tears which trickled down their black-
ened cheeks, for they came unwashed out of the coal-pits to hear
him. Hundreds of them were brought under deep religious im-
pressions, which resulted in their happy conversion and thorough
reformation.

He wrote Wesley to come to.his help. Other cities were to be
visited by him, and he wished his old friend to be his successor
at Bristol. Wesley hesitated, took counsel of his brother and
friends, prayed over it, and went. Saturday, March 31, he reached
Bristol, and met Whitefield. Referring to this interview, Wesley
observes: “I could scarcely reconcile myself at first to this
strange way of preaching in the fields, of which he set me an
example on Sunday; having been all my life (till very lately) so
tenacious of every point relating to decency and order that I
should have thought the saving of souls almost a sin if it had
not been done in a church.”

Wesley (still in a house) continues: “In the evening (Mr.
Whitefield being gone) I began expounding our Lord’s Sermon
on the Mount (one pretty remarkable precedent of field-preach-
ing, though I suppose there were churches at that time also) to
a little society which was accustomed to meet ance or twice a
week in Nicholas street.”

Such were the prejudices and the hesitation of the man who.
for between fifty and sixty years, proved himself the greatest ficl«-
preacher that ever lived. Monday, April 2d, at four in the aft-
arnoon, he “submitted to be more vile,” he says, and proclaimed
in the open air the glad tidings of salvation, from a little omi-
nence in a ground adjoining the city, to about three thousand

 
Field-preaching Inaugurated. 151

 

people. His text befitted the occasion: “The Spirit of the Lord
is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to
the poor. He hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted; to
preach deliverance to the captives, and recovery of sight to
the blind; to set at liberty them that are bruised; to proclaim
the acceptable year of the Lord.” In a few days more, he was
standing on the top of Hannam Mount, in Kingswood, pro-
vlaiming: “Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters;
yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without
price!” and in the afternoon of that same day he again stood up
amid five thousand, and cried, “If any man thirst, let him come
unto me and drink!”

Whitefield, committing his outdoor congregations to Wesley,
left for Wales to work on the same line of things. As he passed
through Kingswood, the colliers stopped him; they had prepared
an “entertainment ” for him, and offered subscriptions for a char-
ity school to be established among them. Laying, at their re-
quest, a corner-stone for the building, he knelt down on the
ground and prayed that the gates of hell might not prevail against
it; to which rough voices responded “Amen.”

With the exception of brief visits to London in June, Septem-
ber, and November, and of a short tour into Wales, Wesley spent
from April to the end of 1739 in Bristol and its neighborhood,
and delivered about five hundred discourses and expositions
in the nine months, only eight of which were in “consecrated
places.” His preaching plan wasas follows: An exposition to one
or other of the Bristol societies every night, and preaching every
Sunday morning, and every Monday and Saturday afternoon.
At Kingswood (including Hannam Mount, Rose Green, and Two
Mile Hill), he preached twice every Sabbath, and also every al-
ternate Tuesday and Friday. At Baptist Mills (a suburb of Bris-
tol), he preached every Friday; at Bath, once a fortnight, on Tues-
day; and at Pensford, once a fortnight, on Thursday. Besides
this, every morning he read prayers and preached at the prison.

When his brother returned from Herrnhut, Charles Wesley
met him with great joy in London, and they “compared their
experience in the things of God.” He now first began to preach
extempore. Islington was one of the few London churches which
had a rector in syrapathy with Methodism, and Charles accepted
a curacy under him. But the church-wardens, with the counte
152 History of Methodism.

 

nance of the bishop, soon ousted him, and he was thrown, without
knowing why, into the current of greatevents. Protesting against
the intolerance of man, by copying the example of man’s Re.
deemer, he too went forth into the fields calling sinners to re-
pentance. Little did Charles dream what was before him, when
he made this entry in his journal: “March 28th. We strove to
dissuade my brother from going to Bristol, to which he was press-
ingly invited, from an unaccountable fear that it would prove
fatal to him. He offered. himself willingly to whatever the Lord
should appoint. The next day he set out, recommended by us
to the grace of God. He left a blessing behind him. I desired
to die with him.”

His holding forth in society-meetings and in private houses,
and his irregular way of saving souls, could not long escape
notice. Whilst John Wesley was still at Bristol, Charles had a
painful interview at Lambeth with the archbishop. His grace
took no exceptions to his doctrine, but condemned the irregular-
ity of his proceedings, and even hinted at excommunication.
This threw him into great perplexity of mind, until Whitefield,
with characteristic boldness, urged him to preach “in the fields
the next Sunday; by which step he would break down the bridge,
render his retreat difficult or impossible, and be forced to fight
his way forward.” This advice was followed. He writes:

June 24th, I prayed and went forth in the name of Jesus Christ. I found near
a thousand helpless sinners waiting for the word in Moorfields. I invited them in
my Master’s words, as well as name: “Come unto me, all ye that labor and are
heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.” The Lord was with me, even me, the
rovanest of his messengers, according to his promise. At St. Paul’s, the psalms,
lessons, etc., for the day, put new life into me; and so did the sacrament. My load
was gone, and all my doubts and scruples. God shone on my path, and I knew
this was his will concerning me. I walked to Kennington Common, and cried to
multitudes upon multitudes: “Repent ye, and believe the gospel.” The Lord was
my strength, and my mouth, and my wisdom. O that all would therefore praise
the Lord for his goodness!

At Oxford, the dean rebuked and threatened him for his field-
preaching; but he seized the opportunity of bearing his testi-
mony to justification by faith, preaching with great boldness be-
fore the university. On his return to London, he resumed field-
preaching in Moorfields, and on Kennington Common. At one
time it was computed that as many as ten thousand persons were
collected, and great numbers were roused to a serious inquiry
Field-preaching I: naugurated. 155

after religion. His word was occasionally attended with an over-
whelming influence.

The three great preachers are now liberated. Thanks to big-
otry! God overrules the wrath of man. These things shall tur:
outfor the furtherance of the gospel. “It was by field-preach-
ing,” remarks a thoughtful critic of the movement then dating,
“and in no other possible way, that England could be roused from
its spiritual slumber, or Methodism spread over the country, and
rooted where it spread. The men who commenced and achieved
this arduous service—and they were scholars and gentlemen —dis-
played a courage fax surpassing that which carries the soldier
through the hail-storm of the battle-field. Ten thousand might
more easily be found who would confront a battery than two
who, with the.sensitiveness of education about them, could mount
a table by the road-side, give out a psalm, and gather a mob.”

“The field-preaching of Wesley and Whitefield, in 1739,” says
Isaac Taylor, “was the event whence the religious epoch, now
current, must date its commencement. Back to the events of
that time must we look, necessarily, as often as we seek to trace
to its source what is most characteristic of the present time.”

[Wesley’s Journals; Tyerman’s Life and Times of Rev John Wesley, MA.; and Watson's
Life of Wesley, farnish the substance of this Chapter.)
CHAPTER XII.

()fliculties and Triumphs of Field-preachers—Bodily Agitations: How Accounted
for—Active Enemies—Lukewarm Friends—The Word Prevails.

; O wonder Methodists were “made a gazing stock.” Their

style of preaching and their doctrine were novel. “Being
convinced,” writes Wesley, “of that important truth which is the
foundation of all real religion, that ‘by grace we are saved
through faith, we immediately began declaring it to others. In-
deed, we could hardly speak of any thing else, either in public
or private. It shone upon our minds with so strong a light that
it was our constant theme. It was our daily subject, both in
verse and prose; and we vehemently defended it against all man-
kind. But in doing this, we were assaulted and abused on every
side. We were stoned in the streets, and several times narrowly
escaped with our lives. In sermons, newspapers, and pamphlets
of all kinds, we were painted as unheard-of monsters.” Hutton’s
Memoirs gives a lively description:

In the year 1739 open-air preaching commenced in England; for the clergy had
closed all their churches against the Methodists, and the Bishop of London (Dr.
Edmund Gibson) had inhibited any Methodist preacher from becoming an assist-
ant (adjunct) at Islington Church. Roth bishop and clergy remained steadfast in
their determination to eradicate Methodism, with its advocates, from their pulpits.
The congregations which flocked to the open-air preaching were composed of every
description of persons from all parts of the town, who without the slightest at-
tempt at order assembled, crying “Hurrah!” with one breath, and with the next bel-
lowing and bursting into tears on account of their sins; some poking each other’s
rtbs, laughing, and throwing stones and dirt, and almost pressing one another to
death; others joyously shouting “Talleluiah,” etc. In fact, it was a jumble of ex-
tremes of good and evil; and so distracted alike were both preachers and hearers,
that it was enough to make one cry to God for his interference. After awhile
matters proceeded less disorderly, a tolerable silence prevailed, and many present,
who had come prepared to hurl stones at the preacher, received something in their
hearts for time and eternity. Here thieves, prostitutes, fools, people of every class,
several men of distinction, a few of the learned, merchants, and numbers of poor
people who had never entered a place of worship, assembled in these crewds and
became godly.

The messengers of salvation who go into the highways and

hedges seeking lost souls, must take people as they find them.
(154)
Difficulties and Triumphs of Field-preachers. 155

That was doubtless a disorderly multitude which heard the words,
“How long halt ye between two opinions? if the Lord be God,
follow him; but if Baal, then follow him.” The congregation that
flocked to the sea-side, “without the slightest attempt at order,”
were privileged to hear the original of the Parable of the Sower.
The multitude to whom the Sermon on the Mount was addressed
was not select. When the Master looked upon these masses of
human beings—restless, unhappy, ignorant-—he was “moved wilh
compassion” for them as sheep having no shepherd. Similar
feelings become his servants. Aisthetic taste must be held in
abeyance, and clerical dignity stand aside; the people must be
reached and subdued to the gospel; and Methodism, by its birth
and baptism, is pledged to this work. The author of Hutton’s
Memoirs was a Moravian, of social culture, affecting “stillness;”
he delighted to instruct, and was capable of instructing, the choice
spirits that could be gathered into a “society-room,” or the par-
lor on “College street, Westminster,” or the cosy office of his
book-store. An agency is wanted that is bolder and more ag-
gressive; for the world will never be reached and converted at
that rate. ‘“Multitudes’’ must be added to the Church daily.
The acute observer before quoted remarks:

 

Within the Moravian circle, the prevailing force is centripetal; within the Wes-
leyan, it is centrifugal. The Church of the Brethren has conserved within its
small inclosures an idea of what was imagined to be pristine Christianity; and it
has moored itself, here and there, in sheltered nooks of the world, amid the wide
waters of general impiety or formality; hut no such tranquil witness-bearing to
primitive principles could have satisfied Wesley’s evangelical zeal; and the Meth-
odism which he framed was an invasive encampment upon the field of the world.*

While enemies were ready to revile, those who ought to have
been friends were cautious in their indorsement. Hven the good
Dr. Doddridge wrote (May 24, 1739): “I think the Methodists sin-
cere; I hope some may be reformed, instructed, and made serious
by their means. I saw Mr. Whitefield preaching on Kenningtor
Common last week to an attentive multitude, and heard much of
him at Bath; but, supposing him sincere and in good earnest, |
still fancy that he is but a weak man—much too positive, says
rash things, and is bold and enthusiastic. I am most heartily
glad to hear that any veal good is done anywhere to the souls of
men,” etc. Now and then a more outspoken Christian man ap.

 

* Wesley and Methodism.
156 History of Methodism.

 

peared. Joseph Williams, of Kidderminster, had in him the
savor of Richard Baxter. Under the date of September 17, he
writes, concerning the two Wesleys, Whitefield, and Ingham:
“The common people flock to hear them, and in most places
hear them gladly. They commonly preach once or twice every
day, and expound the Scriptures in the evening to religious so-
cieties, who have their society-rooms for that purpose.” Charles
at this time visited his brother at Bristol, and it so happens
that the manner of. his preaching is described by Williams,
whom curiosity and a religious temper led to hear him in a field
near the city:

I found him standing on a table-board, in an erect posture, with his hands and
eyes lifted up to heaven in prayer. He prayed with uncommon fervor, fluency,
and variety of proper expressions. He then preached about an hour in such a
manuer as I scarce ever heard any man preach. Though I have heard many a
diner sermon, according to the common taste or acceptation of sermons, I never
heard any man discover such evident signs of a vehement desire, or labor so
earnestly to convince his hearers that they were all by nature in a sinful, lost, un-
done state. He showed how great a change faith in Christ would produce in
the whole man, and that every man who is in Christ—that is, who believes in him
unto salvation—is a new creature. Nor did he fail to press how ineffectual their
faith would be to justify them, unless it wrought by love, purified their hearts, and
was productive of good works. With uncommon fervor he acquitted himself as
an embassador of Christ, beseeching them in his name, and praying them in his
stead, to be reconciled toGod. And although he used no notes, nor had any thing
in his hands but a Bible, yet he delivered his thoughts in a rich, copious variety
of expression, and with so much propriety that I could not observe any thing in-
coherent or inanimate through the whole performance, which he concluded with
singing, prayer, and the usual benediction.

In the evening the same competent and appreciative hearer ac-
companied Wesley to the society-meeting. The whole service
took up nearly two hours; “but never, sure,” says Williams,
“did I hear such praying, never did I see or hear such evident
marks of fervency in the service of God. At the close of every
petition, a serious Amen, like a gentle rushing sound of waters,
ran through the whole audience witlt such a solemn air as quite
distinguished it from whatever of that nature I have heard at
tending the responses in the Church-service. If there be such a
thing as heavenly music upon earth, I heard it there.” Such a
testimony, from a man so devout and justly famed as “the Kid-
derminster carpet-weaver,” is quite as trustworthy as any of an
opposite character from either Bishop Gibson or any priest then
Wesley and “ Beau Nash.” 157

 

dozing on the walls of Zion, or from Doddridge, or other learned
preachers of Dissent then dying of respectability.

Field-preaching called into action other qualities besides the
power to speak. The annoyances were infinite until the cause had
triumphed. Missiles of stones and brickbats were not the greatest
hinderances. Sometimes a furious ox was let loose into the crowd;
or recruiting officers, with drum and fife, would pass through; or
a mob of lewd fellows of the baser sort, fired with whisky, and
led on by the “parson,” with the watch-word “Fight for the
Church,” would intrude. On one occasion, John Wesley having
taken his stand in the open air to preach, two men, hired for the
purpose, began to sing ballads. Wesley and his friends met this
by singing a psalm, thus drowning one noise with another.

At Bath he encountered a politer difficulty. “Beau Nash,”
master of ceremonies at that fashionable resort—he who pre-
scribed ball-dresses for ladies and gentlemen, and the number of
dances to be danced—gave out that on Wesley’s next “appoint-
ment” there should be some fun: the accomplished rake and
gamester meant to make sport of the preacher and stop him.
“By this report,” says Wesley, “I gained a much larger audi-
ence, among whom were many of the rich and great. T told them
plainly the Scripture had concluded them all under sin; high
and low, rich and poor, one with another. Many of them seemed
to be a little surprised, and were sinking apace into seriousness,”
when the “Beau,” in his immense white hat, appeared, and
asked by what authority he dared to do what he was doing.
Wesley replied: “ By the authority of Jesus Christ, conveyed to
me by him who is now Archbishop of Canterbury, when he laid
his hands upon me and said, ‘Take thou authority to preach the
gospel.’” “But this,” said Nash, “is a conventicle, and contra-
ry to act of parliament.” ‘‘ No,” answered Wesley; “conventi-
cles are seditious meetings, but here is no sedition; therefore, it
is not contrary to act of parliament.” “TI say itis!” cried the
hero of Bath; “and besides, your preaching frightens people out.
of their wits.” “Sir,” said Wesley, “did you ever hear me
preach?” “No.” “How, then, can you judge of what you never
heard?” “Ijudge,” he answered, “by common report.” “Com-
mon report,” replied Wesley, “is not enough. Give me leave
to ask you, sir, is not your name Nash?” “It is,” said he,
“Sir.” retorted Wesley, “I dare not judge of you by common
158 History of Methodism.

 

report.” The master of ceremonies was worsted; upon which an
old woman begged Wesley to allow her to answer him; and, amid
her taunts, the resplendent master of ceremonies sneaked away.
“As T returned,” says Wesley, “the street was full of people hur-
rying to and fro, and speaking great words; but when any of
them asked, ‘ Which is he?’ and I replied, ‘Iam he,’ they were
immediately silent.”

Whitefield called preaching in Moorfields “ attacking Satan in
mie of his strongholds;” and this he did on Sundays when in
London. Once the table which had been placed for him was
broken in pieces by the crowd. He took his stand, therefore,
upon a wall which divided the upper and lower Moorfields, and
preached without interruption. His favorite ground upon week-
days was Kennington Common, and there prodigious multitudes
gathered together to hear him. He had sometimes fourscore
varriages, very many horsemen, and from thirty to forty thou-
sand persons on foot; and both there and in Moorfields, on his
Sunday preachings, when he collected for the Orphan-house, so
many half-pence were given him by his poor auditors that he
was wearied in receiving them, and they were more than one man
could carry home. John Wesley had not yet faced a London
outdoor congregation. On a brief visit to the metropolis he
found Whitefield triumphing gloriously, and on the day after his
arrival accompanied him to Blackheath, expecting to hear him
preach. When they were upon the ground, where about twelve
or fourteen thousand persons were assembled, Whitefield desired
him to preach in his stead. Wesley was reluctant; nature re.
coiled, but he did notrefuse. Hesays: “I preached on my favor-
ite subject—‘ Jesus Christ, who of God is made unto us wisdom,
righteousness, sanctification, and redemption.’ I was greatly
moved with compassion for the rich that were there, to whom I
made a particular application. Some of them seemed to attend,
while others drove away in their coaches from so uncouth a preach-
er.” Whitefield, in his journal, says: “TI had the pleasure of in-
troducing my honored and reverend friend, Mr. John Wesley, to
preach at Blackheath. The Lord give him ten thousand times
more success than he has given me! I went to bed rejoicing that
another fresh inroad was made into Satan’s territories by Mr.
Wesley’s following me in field-preaching in London as well as in
Bristol.”
“Signs” Attenaing Wesley’s Preaching. 159

 

It is a noteworthy circumstance that though the preaching of
Charles Wesley and of Whitefield was as faithful as that of John
Wesley, and far more impassioned, yet no such “signs” attend-
ed their ministry as were attendant on his. Such items as these
are found in his journal (1739):

May 1. Many were offended again, and indeed much more than before. Of
those who had been long in darkness, ten persons, I afterward found, then be gar
to say in faith, “My Lord and my God.” A Quaker who stood by was not a lit
tle displeased at the dissimulation of those creatures, and was biting his lips and
knitting his brows, when he dropped down as thunderstruck. The agony he wae
m was even terrible to behold.

May 21. Perhaps it might be because of the hardness of our hearts, unready to
receive any thing unless we see it with our eyes and hear it with our ears, that
God, in tender condescension to our weakness, suffered so many outward signs at
the very time when he wrought this inward change, to be continually seen and
heard among us. But although they saw “signs and wonders” (for so I must
term them), yet many would not believe. They could not indeed deny the facts,
but they could explain them away. Some said: “These were purely natural effects;
the people fainted away only because of the heat and closeness of the rooms;”
and others were “sure it was all a cheat; they might help it if they would; else,
why were these things only in their private societies? why were they not done in
tie face of the sun?” To-day our Lord answered for himself—for, while I was
enforcing these words, “Be still, and know that I am God,” he began to make
bare his arm—not in a close room, neither in private, but in the open air, and be-
fore more than two thousand witnesses. One, and another, and another, was struck
to the earth, exceedingly trembling at the presence of his power; others cried,
with a loud and bitter cry, “What must we do to be saved?” And in less than
an hour seven persons, wholly unknown to me till that time, were rejoicing and
singing, and with all their might giving thanks to the God of their salvation. In
the evening I went on to declare what God had already done, in proof of that im-
portant truth that he is “not willing that any should perish, but that all should
come to repentance.” Another person dropped down, close to one who was a
strong asserter of the contrary doctrine. While he stood astonished at the sight,
a little boy near him was seized in the same manner. A. young man who stood
up behind fixed his eyes on him, and sunk down himself as one dead, but soon he-
gan to roar out, and beat himself against the ground, so that six men could scarce-
ly hold him. His name was Thomas Maxfield. Except J——n H——n, I never
saw one so torn of the evil one. I was called from supper to one who, feeling in
herself such a conviction as she never had known before, had run out of the soci-
ety in all haste that she might not expose herself. But the hand of God followsd
her still; so that after going a few steps, she was forced to be carried home; and
when she was there, grew worse and worse. She was in a violent agony when we
‘came. We called upon God, and her soul found rest. I think twenty-nine in all
had their heaviness turned into joy this day.

Maxfield will be heard from again. The case of John Haydon.
160 History of Methodism.

referred to, occurred a few weeks before, and is told in the jour-
nal of May 2:

He was a man of a regular life, one that constantly attended the : 1blic prayers
and sacrament, and was zealous for the Church, and against dissenteis of every de-
nomination. Being informed that people fell into strange fits at the societies, he
came to see and judge for himself. But he was less satisfied than hefore; inso-
much that he went about to his acquaintance, one after another, till one in the
morning, and labored above measure to convince them it was a delusion of the
devil. We were going home, when one met us in the street and informed us that
J—~-n H——n was fallen raving mad. It seems he had sat down to dinner, brt
had a mind first to end a sermon he had borrowed, on “Salvation by Faith.” In
reading the last page, he changed color, fell off his chair, and began screaming
terribly, and beating himself against the ground. The neighbors were alarmed,
and flocked together to the house. Between one and two I came in and found him
on the floor, the room being full of people, whom his wife would have kept with-
out, but he cried aloud: “No! let them all come; let all the world see the just
judgment of God!” Two or three men were holding him as well as they could.
“Ay, this is he who I said was a deceiver of the people. But God has overtaken
me. I said it was all a delusion, but this is no delusion.” We all betook ou
selves to prayer. His pangs ceased, and both his body and soul were set at liberty.

Returning to J——-n H——-n, we found his voice was lost, and his body
weak as that of an infant; but his soul was in peace, full of love, and “ rejoicing in
hope of the glory of God.”

Whitefield heard of these things, and was not pleased; for, as
usual, gross misrepresentations had gone out. He visited Bris-
tol, and Wesley writes: “ But next day he had an opportunity of
informing himself better; for, in the application of his sermon,
four persons sunk down close to him, almost in the same moment.
One of them lay without either sense or motion; a second trem-
bled exceedingly; the third had strong convulsions all ovér his
body, but made no noise, unless by groans; the fourth, equally
convulsed, called upon God with strong cries and tears. From
this time, I trust, we shall all suffer God to carry on his own
work in the way that pleaseth him.” Whitefield was silenced, if
not satisfied. If it was so in England, we shall see greater things
than these in America when the masses are reached by camp-
meetings and field-preachers of the old Methodist type. There
was much reasoning about these physical exercises in connection
with spiritual. Men of the world discoursed flippantly of fanat-
icism, enthusiasm, zoo-mesmerism, and such like, always to the dis-’
credit of the ministry under which these things occur; the pious
patterns of order and stillness were scandalized, and fools mocked.
The words of Richard Watson are commended to them all:
Corporeal and Mental Emotions. 161

 

The extraordinary manner in which some persons were frequently affected un-
der Mr. Wesley’s preaching as well as that of his coadjutors, now created much
discussion, and to many gave much offense. Some were seized with trembling;
others sunk down, and uttered loud and piercing cries; others fell into a kind of
agony. in some instances, whilst prayer was offered for them, they rose up with
a sudden change of feeling, testifying that they had “redemption through the
hlood. of Christ, even the forgiveness of sins.” Mr. Samuel Wesley, who denied
the knowledge of the forgiveness of sins, treated these things, in a correspondence
with his brother, alternately with sarcasm and serious severity, and particularly
attacked the doctrine of assurance. In this controversy Mr. John Wesley attaches
no weight whatever to these outward agitations, but contends that he is bound to
believe the profession made by many who had been so affected, of an inward
change. because that had been confirmed by their subsequent conduct and spirit.*

Wesley unquestionably believed in special effusions of the in-
fluence of the Holy Spirit upon congregations and individuals,
producing powerful emotions of mind, expressed in some in-
stances by bodily affections; and there is the best authority—the
Bible—for this belief. Jonathan Edwards, after the great awak-
ening in his day, and mostly under his ministry, had to defend
himself and his coadjutors, and the work itself, in a learned trea-
tise on the subject of “Surprising Conversions.” Watson con-
tinues:

That cases of real enthusiasm occurred, at this and subsequent periods, is indeed
allowed. There are always nervous, dreamy, and excitable people to be found;
and the emotion which was produced among those who were really so “ pricked
in the heart” as to cry with a sincerity equal to that which was felt by those of
old, “What shall we do to be saved?” would often be communicated to such pes-
sons by natural sympathy. No one could be blamed for this unless he had en-
couraged the excitement for its own sake, or taught the people to regard it as a
sign of grace, which most assuredly Mr. Wesley never did. Nor is it correct to
represent these effects, genuine and factitious together, as peculiar to Methodism.
A great impression was made by the preaching of the Wesleys and Mr. Whitefield
in almost all places where they went. Thousands in the course of a few years,
and of those too who had lived in the greatest unconcern as to spiritual things,
and were most ignorant and depraved in their habits, were recovered from their
vices, and the moral appearance of whole neighborhoods was changed. Yet the
effects were not without precedent, even in those circumstances in which they have
heen thought most singular and exceptionable. Great and, rapid results of this
Lind were produced in the first ages of Christianity, but not without “ outcries,””
and strong corporeal as well as mental emotions—nay, and extravagances too.
Such objectors might have known that like effects often accompanied the preach-
ing of eminent men at the Reformation, and that many of the Puritan and Non
conformist ministers had similar successes in large districts in our own country

 

Watson's Life of Wesley.
1
162 History of Methodism.

 

They might have known that in Scotland, and also among the grave Presbyter1-
ans of New England, previous to the rise of Methodism, such impressions had not
unfrequently been produced by the ministry of faithful men. It may be laid down
as a principle established by fact that whenever a zealous and faithful aninistry is
raised up, after a long spiritual dearth, the early effects of that ministry are not
only powerful, but often attended with extraordinary circumstances; nor are such
extraordinary circumstances necessarily extravagances because they are uot com-
mon. It is neither irrational nor unscriptural to suppose that times of great na
tional darkness and depravity should require a strong remedy, and that the atten
tion of the people should be roused by circumstances which could not faii to be
noticed by the most unthinking. We do not attach primary importance to second-
ary circumstances, but they are not to be wholly disregarded. The Lord was not
in the wind, nor in the earthquake, nor in the fire, but in the still small voice;
yet that still small voice might not have been heard, except by minds roused
from their inattention by the shaking of the earth and the sounding of the storm.

But even the liturgy and the ministry of the objectors pray
for a measure of Divine influence, a degree of spiritual power,
to bless the word preached, and to open the ears and hearts of
the people, inclining them to keep God’s law. On this ground—
the lowest.any can take and be called orthodox— Watson answers:
“Tf, however, no special and peculiar effusion of Divine infiu-
ence on the minds of many of Mr. Wesley’s hearers be supposed;
if we only assume the exertion of that ordinary influence which
must accompany the labors of every minister of Christ to render
them successful in saving men—the strong emotions often pro-
duced by the preaching of the founder of Methodism might be
accounted for on principles very different from those adopted by
many objectors. The multitudes to whom he preached were gen-
erally grossly ignorant of the gospel, and he poured upon their
minds a flood of light; his discourses were plain, pointed, ear-
nest, and affectionate; the feeling produced was deep, piercing,
and, in numberless cases, such as we have no right, if we believe
the Bible, to attribute to any other cause than that inward oper
ation of God with his truth which alone can render human
means effectual.”

A Yorkshire mason, John Nelson, came up to London, work-
ing at his trade. His labor amply supported him, and he and
his wife lived, he says, “in a good way, as the world calls it—-that
is, in peace and plenty, and love to each other.” Though he had
experienced neither sorrow nor misfortune of any kind, still he
thought that rather than live thirty years more like the thirty
which had passed, he would choose to be strangled. The fear of
Conversion of the Yorkshire Mason. 163

 

judgment made him wish that he had never been born. The
Established Church not meeting his case, he heard the Dissent-
ers of various sorts, went to the Roman Catholics, and even at-
tended Quakers’ meetings: all to no purpose. As for the Jews,
he thought it was useless to try them. He was settling down into
a desperate state. Atthis time Whitefield preached outdoors, and
he heard him, but was no better. “I loved the man,” says Nel-
son, “so that if any one offered to disturb him, I was ready to
fizht for him, but I did not understand him; yet I got some hops
of mercy, so that I was encouraged to pray on, and spend my
leisure hours in reading the Scriptures.” He slept little, and
often awoke from horrible dreams, dripping with sweat and shiv-
ering with terror. Thus he continued, till Wesley preached, fox
the first time, in Moorfields. “0,” said he, “that was a blessed
morning for my soul! As soon as he got upon the stand, he
stroked back his hair and turned his face toward where I stood.
and I thought he fixed his eyes on me. His countenance struck
such an awful dread upon me, before I heard him speak, that i
made my heart beat like the pendulum of a clock; and when he
did speak, I thought his whole discourse was aimed at me.”
Wesley, in winding up his sermons, pointing his exhortations
and driving them home, spoke as if he were addressing himself
to an individual; so that every one to whom the condition which
he described was applicable felt as if he were singled out; and
the preacher’s words, like the eyes of a portrait, seemed to look
at every beholder. “Who art thou,” said the preacher, “that
now seest and feelest thine inward and outward ungodliness?
Thou art the man! I want thee for my Lord, I challenge thee
for a child of God by faith. The Lord hath need of thee. Thou
who feelest thou art just fit for hell art just fit to advance His
glory—the glory of His free grace, justifying the ungodly, and
him that worketh not. O come quickly! Believe in the Lord
Jesus, and thou, even thou, art reconciled to God.” When the
sermou was ended, Nelson said within himself: “This man can
tell the secrets of my heart. He hath not left me there, for he
hath shown the remedy, even the blood of Jesus.” His ac-
quaintances professed alarm at his going too far in religion, and
wished he had never heard Wesley, for it would be his ruin. “I
told them,” said he, “I had reason to bless God that ever he was
horn, for by hearing him I was made sensible that my business
 

164 History of Methodism.

in this world is to get well out of it; and as for my trade, health,
wisdom, and all things in this world, they are no blessings to me,
any further than as so many instruments to help me, by the
grace of God, to work out my salvation.” The family where he
lodged were disposed to get rid of him, being afraid some mis-
chief would come from “so much praying and fuss as.he made
about religion.” He procured money and went to pay them
what he owed them, but they would not let him leave. “ What
if John is right, and we are wrong?” they asked among them-
selves. “If God has done for you any thing more than for us,
show us how we may find the same mercy;” and he was soon
leading them to hear Wesley. He even hired a fellow-workman
to hear him; and the mechanic afterward assured him that it
was the best deed, both for himself and his wife, that any one
had ever done for them. Fasting once a week, he gave the food
saved to the poor. He went to Birstal, after his conversion, to
visit his family, that he might recommend to them and his neigh-
bors religion in person. His relations and acquaintances soon
began to inquire what he thought of this new faith, and whether
he believed there was any such thing as a man’s knowing that
his sins were forgiven. John told them, point-blank, that this
new faith, as they called it, was the old faith of the gospel, and
that he himself was as sure his sins were forgiven as he could
be of the shining of thesun. Sitting in his door, after the day’s
labor, he read to those who came, and told his experience, and
explained the Scriptures. The congregations increased, many
were converted, and he became a preacher without knowing it,
and was the pioneer and the chief founder of Methodism in that
portion of England in which it has had signal success down to
the present time.

Even Southey had a genuine admiration for some of Wesley’s
lay preachers; he appreciated the heroic element in them; and,
after giving a particular account of Nelson’s conversion, he lin-
gers about the man that had as “brave a heart as ever English-
man was blessed with.” One of Wesley’s first-fruits in tield-
preaching, John Nelson himself became a successful field-
preacher, and by him “much people was added unto the Lord.”
CHAPTER XIII.

harch Building—Titles of Property—The Foundry—Religious Societies—-Fet
ter-lane—Threats of Excommunication: How Treated—Separation from the
Moravians—Strange Doctrines—Stillness—Means of Grace.

|: INGSWOOD SCHOOL, of which Whitefield laid the
corner-stone, was finished in a year. The Orphan-house
yielded occasionally to the claims of the Colliers’ School, and
public collections of about £100 were made by him. As for the
rest, the building and management devolved on Wesley. For
months wherever he went he took subscriptions for this charity,
which ultimately grew to greater dimensions than he foresaw.
Another enterprise of historic interest he began as well as fin-
ished. _ It was an important step toward the formation of a sep-
arate denomination, though he entertained no design beyond the
supply of an immediate want. The awakening, conversion, and
addition of so large a number of persons to the religious socie-
ties in Bristol made necessary a larger room, in which they might
assemble together for worship. A piece of ground was pro-
cured near St. James’s church-yard, Broadmead, and the first
stone was laid May 12th, 1739, “with the voice of praise and
thanksgiving.” ‘Wesley says: “I had not at first the least ap-
prehension or design of being personally engaged either in the
expense of the building or in the direction of it;” he having
appointed eleven feoffees (trustees), by whom the burdens should
beborne. But it soon appeared that the work would be ata stand
if he did not take upon himself the payment of the workmen;
and he was presently encumbered with a debt of more than £150.
The subscription of the Bristol societies did not amount to a
fourth part of that sum. In another and more important point,
his friends in London, and Whitefield especially, had been far-
ther-sighted than himself; they represented to him that the trust-
ees would always have it in their power to turn him out of the
room after he had built it, if he did not preach to their liking;
and they declared that they would have nothing to do with the
building, nor contribute any thing toward it, unless he instantly
discharged all trustees, and did every thing in his own name
K (165)
166 History of Methodism.

Though Wesley had not foreseen this consequence, he immedi-
ately perceived the wisdom of his friends’ advice, and to avoid
the evils of congregational fickleness and tyranny, he called to-
gether the trustees, canceled the writings without any opposition
on their part, and took the whole trust, as well as the whole man-
agement, into his own hands. “Money,” he says, “it is true, 1
had not, nor any human prospect or probability of procuring it;
but I knew ‘the earth is the Lord’s, and the fullness thereof;’ and
in his name set out, nothing doubting.” This was a matter of
great importance, for in this manner nearly all the chapels ercet-
ed in the early part of his career were vested in him; a thing in-
volving serious responsibility, which was honorably fulfilled; for
trusts were afterward created, and by the “Deed of Declara-
tion” all his interests in his chapels were transferred to the Le-
gal Conference. Connectional Methodism, in Europe and Amer-
ica, is vastly indebted to the conservative principle here intro-
duced. Church-houses are not the property of individuals, or
societies, or corporations, but are held for the use of such a
ministry as the Conference, representing the whole Church, may
authorize and appoint. Local defections cannot close them, nor
pervert them from their original design.*

The Religious Societies often mentioned arose about the year
1667 out of an awakening that began under three pious clergy-
men f in London, and extended to other parts of the land. The
Church of that day not affording suitable help and fellowship
for the earnest seekers after salvation, they were advised by those
whose ministry had been quickening and profitable to their souls
“to meet together once a week, and to apply themselves to good
discourse and things wherein they might edify one another.”
They acted upon this advice, and at every meeting made a col-
lection for the poor. By means of the fund thus provided, num-
bers of poor families were relieved, sundry prisoners were set at
liberty by the payment of small debts, several orphans were
maintained, and a few poor scholars received assistance. These

 

 

* Decisions in the Court of Chancery, made under this “Deed of Declaration,”
have given security to the property and stability to the whole economy of Wes-
leyan Methodism in Great Britain; and similar proceedings in American courts
‘have settled this principle—that trustees and congregations may rebel or secede,
but the Church-property remains for the use of the Church.

+ Horneek, Smithies, and Beveridge.
Religious Societies—Fetter-lane. 167

 

converted persons soon found the benefit of their weekly con-
ferences with each other. Each person related his religious ex-
perience to the rest, and thus they became the means of building
themselves up in the faith of Christ. Rules were drawn up “for
the better regulation of the meetings.” These religious associ-
ations at one time numbered about forty in the metropolis and
its vicinity, By the rules of the weekly meetings they were re-
quired to discourse only on such subjects as tended to “ practi-
tal holiness, and to avoid controversy.” For awhile these soci-
eties prospered greatly. Out of their religious influence and the
zeal thus awakened, no less than twenty associations for the
prosecution and suppression of vice seem to have arisen, which
were favored by several bishops, and countenanced by the queen
herself. They had been the means of keeping the spark of piety
from entire extinction. But after the lapse of some years they
declined, so that when Wesley commenced his evangelizing la-
bors, although several societies still existed in London, Bristol,
Dublin, and some other places, they were by no means in a state
of vigor and activity. The law of moral affinity drew the Meth-
odists to them. In their rooms and meetings in London, Bristol,
and elsewhere, Whitefield and the Wesley brothers, for a few
years, were accustomed to read and explain the Scriptures almost
every night. They served them much the same purpose the syn-
agogues did the first missionaries to the Gentiles—as a base of
operations for beginning their work. Useful as were the Relig-
ious Societies, with their narrow and retired quarters, Method-
ism had outgrown that provisional arrangement in Bristol as
soon also it did elsewhere; for the societies were isolated, not
united; they were at the service of Methodists, but could not be
under their control.

The Fetter-lane Society seems to have been like and yet un-
like the others. On May 1, Wesley and a few others formed
themselves into a society which met there. The rules were
printed under the title of “Orders of a Religious Society, meet-
ing in Fetter-lane; in obedience to the command of God by St.
James, and by the advice of Peter Bohler. 1738.” Band-rules,
and other arrangements for Christian fellowship and mutual ed-
ification, on the Moravian plan, were adopted. Many seasons of
great grace were enjoyed there. Monday night, after his return
from Germany, Wesley’s journal has th** *tem: “I rejoiced to
L68 History of Methodism.

 

meet our little society, which now consisted of thirty-two per-
sons.” Methodists and Moravians composed this society which
professed to be in union with the Church of England, and went
as a body, accompanied by the two Wesleys, to St. Paul’s Cathe.
dral, to receive the holy communion. Buta learned mystic came
in, while Wesley was at Bristol, and taught new-fangled doc-
trines. A man very different from Bohler was this Molther
‘German stillness” stole away the hearts of the people; solifid-
ianism and a contempt of Church orders and of Bible ordinances
were openly inculcated. Separation—as we shall see—finally
ensued. The Methodist element drew off and “went to their
own company,” and the Moravian element of the original Fetter-
lane Society drew off in another direction, and from this time
assumed the character of a distinct community belonging to the
Church of the United Brethren.* This proved to be an impor-
tant step in the direction of a distinct, homogeneous denomina-
tion representing well-defined and vital doctrines, though such
consequence was not intended at the time.

Wesley had spent part of November in London, endeavor-
ing to compose dissensions in Fetter-lane; and whilst there, two
gentlemen, then unknown to him, urged him to preach in a
place called the Foundry, near Moorfields. He writes: “Sun-
day, November 11, I preached at eight to five or six thousand,
on the spirit of bondage and the spirit of adoption; and at five
in the evening to seven or eight thousand, in the place which had
been the king’s foundry for cannon.” He was then pressed to
take the place into his own hands. Hedidso. The purchase-
money was £115; but the building being a “vast, uncouth heap
of ruins,” a large sum additional to this had to be expended in
needful repairs; and at least £800 was raised, by systematic and
hard begging, during the next few years, to pay for this cathe-
dial of Methodism.t The band-room was behind the chapel, on
the ground-floor, eighty feet long and twenty feet wide. Were
the classes met; here, in winter, the five o’clock morning service
was conducted; and here were held, at two o’clock, on Wednes-
days and Fridays, weekly meetings for prayer. The north
end of the room was used for a school, and was fitted up with
desks; and at the south end was “The Book Room,” for the sale

 

*Jackson’s Life of C. Wesley. +Tyerman.
The Foundry Opened for Worship. 169

 

of Methodist publications. Over the band-room were apartments
for Wesley, in which his mother spent her last years and died;
and at the end of the chapel was a dwelling-house for his domes-
tics and assistant preachers. The edifice had been a ruin for
twenty years. In recasting the injured guns taken from the
French in the campaigns of Marlborough, a terrible explosion
blew off the roof, shook the building, and killed several of the
workmen. This led to its abandonment, and the removal of tlic
royal foundry to Woolwich. Here was really the cradle of Meth.
odism. At Bristol the first Methodist church was begun and
built. The Foundry was the first one opened for worship. Wes-
ley says, in his introduction to the “General Rules of the Soci-
ety:” “In the latter end of the year 1739 eight or ten persons
came to me in London and desired that I would spend some time
with them in prayer, and advise them how to flee from the wrath
to come. This was the rise of the United Society.” Twelve
came the first night, forty the next, and soon after a hundred.
While the controversy respecting the ordinances—which led to
a separation from the Moravians—was going on, the Wesleys
still preached to vast audiences, and with undiminished success.
Conversions were numerous, and the society connected with the
Foundry increased continually. Commenced about the end of
November with twelve members, by the middle of June follow-
ing it had increased to three hundred. The epochal events of this
year justified the world-wide centenary solemnities of 1839.
Methodism now has two churches and a school-house, access
to the little “rooms” of the Religious Societies here and there,
and all outdoors, to preach in. The movement widens and takes
shape. Its leaders are building wiser than they know, for they
really love the Established Church, and have no thought of cut-
ting loose from it. Under Providence, they meet the necessities
which success creates, are detached from surroundings, and are
drifting toward a compact and consistent organism. One possi-
ole danger hangs vaguely over the heads of the leaders—suspen-
sion or excommunication. According to the canons of the Church,
no minister is allowed to preach outside of his parish without
official leave. The bishop of a diocese must give license therein,
or the preacher is an intruder. This canon had fallen into dis-
use—sub silentio—but it might be revived. Whitefield at Bristol,
was threatened with it. He boldly reminded the author of the
s

170 History of Methodism.

 

official menace that another canon forbade his ministers from
frequenting ale-houses and playing cards, and from other unmin-
isterial, if not unchristian, practices. Why was not that canon
enforced? And Whitefield thundered in his field-pulpit the
same day. The Bishop of London was displeased at the “ir-
regularities” of the Methodist preachers, and said to Charles
Wesley: “I have power to inhibit you.” He promptly made
the issue: “ Does your lordship exert that power? Do you now
inhibit me?” The reply was: “O why will you push me to an
oxtreme? Ido notinhibit you.” After having elicited from the
learned prelate that, in his opinion, the Religious Societies to
which they preached were not conventicles, the poet-preachei
went his way.

John Wesley was often importuned to narrow his circle of op-
erations by taking a curacy or settling at the university. Even
good men queried: Why this going about and singing psalms,
and expounding, and gathering assemblies, in other men’s par-
ishes? An entry in his journal at this time points to similar
interviews: 7

For two hours I took up my cross, in arguing with a zealous man, and laboring
to convince him that I was not an enemy of the Church of England. He allowed
I taught no other doctrines than those of the Church, but could not forgive my
teaching them out of the church-walls. He allowed, too (which none indeed can
deny who has either any regard to truth or sense of shame), that “by this teach-
ing many souls who, till that time, were ‘perishing for lack of knowledge, have
been, and are brought, ‘from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto
God.” But he added: “No one can tell what may be hereafter; and therefore J
say these things ought not to be suffered.”

Honest, zealous man, believing that the salvation of souls is
tuo dearly bought if done by a departure from Church-usages'
—forgetting that Christianity, though conserved by Church-
order, does not exist for the sake of it. When, by one he was
hound to respect and give an answer to, Wesley was urged to set-
tle in a college, or to accept a cure of souls, he replied: “I have
no business at college, having now no office and no pupils; and it
will be time enough to consider whether I ought to accept a cure
of souls when one is offered to me. On scriptural grounds, I do
not think it hard to justify what Iam doing. God, in Scripture,
commands me, according to my power, to instruct the ignorant,
reform the wicked, confirm the virtuous. Man forbids me to do
this in another’s parish; that is, in effect, not to do it at all, see.
“I Look upon All the World as my Parish.” 171

 

ing I have now no parish of my own, nor probably ever shall.
Whom, then, shall I hear? God or man? If it be just to obey
man rather than God, judge ye. I look upon all the world as
my parish; thus far I mean that, in whatever part of it I am, I
judge it meet, right, and my bounden duty to declare unto all
that are willing to hear the glad tidings of salvation.” Such was
the position taken by Wesley and his co-workers. His spirit was
strong in the conciousness of the moral power he was wielding
by the word of God. On one occasion, he says, his soul was so
enlarged that he could have cried out, in a higher sense than
Archimedes, ‘Give me where to stand, and I will move the
world.”

Samuel Wesley, deprecating the irregular evangelism of his
brother, wrote to his mother: “I am not afraid the Church should
excommunicate him (discipline is at too low an ebb), but that
he should excommunicate the Church. It is pretty near it.”
One compensation in the case of a lifeless Church is that the
decay of discipline—an early symptom—has left it without power
to resist the unusual measures which may be necessary for its
renovation. Ata time when dram-drinking and absentee rectors ~
were common, and when heterodoxy, and even a thinly dis-
guised infidelity, tainted some who were enjoying preferments,
it would hardly do to revive an obsolete canon against men whose
fault was that they preached the gospel to more people out-
of-doors than scores of beneficed clergymen preached to with-
in church-walls; that they taught the poor and visited the pris-
ons, and constantly appealed to the articles and homilies of the
Church for the truth of their doctrines—men of cultured minds
and commanding eloquence and blameless lives. To excommu-
nicate them was more than a hierarchy, strong and proud, but
in some degree responsible to public opinion, could venture to
do or seriously threaten.

The Methodists now felt the ground firm under them go far as
ecclesiastical interference was concerned, and another forward
novement was made, very shocking to primates and priests—the
introduction of lay preachers. The fields were white to the har-
vest, and the laborers few. Wesley could not forbid an increase
of the staff, because the new workers had not been trained in
colleges, and came without surplices and gowns. No doubt he
would have preferred the employment of clerics like himself; but,
172 History of Methodism.

 

in the absence of such, he was driven to adopt the measure which
Providence presented; and which the Holy Spirit honored abun-
dantly. His mission was to the people, and from the people the
Lord furnished a ministry that sympathized with them, and could
be understood by them. Again Church-order gave way to the
higher necessity of saving souls. “I knew your brother well,”
said Robinson, the Archbishop of Armagh, when he met Charles
Wesley at the Hotwells, Bristol. ‘I could never credit all I heard
respecting him and you; but one thing in your conduct I could
never account for—your employing laymen.” “My lord,” said
Charles, “the fault is yours and your brethren’s.” “How so?”
asked the primate. ‘“ Because you hold your peace, and the stones
cry out.” “But [am told,” his Grace continued, “that they are
unlearned men.” “Some are,” said the sprightly poet; “and so
the dumb ass rebukes the prophet.” His lordship said no more.*

The New Room at Bristol, as the first Methodist meeting-house
was called, was opened, and Wesley expounded and preached
there daily. Of the moral condition of the congregation he
wrote before leaving: ‘Convictions sink deeper and deeper; love
and joy are more calm, even, and steady.” Charles, who had
been pastor of the Foundry for several months, and conjointly
with Molther and others of Fetter-lane, now changed places with
his brother. Wearied with the wranglings that had broken out
in that Union Society about “stillness” and the ordinances,
Charles was refreshed at Bristol, and especially at Kingswood.
“QO what simplicity,” he exclaims, “is in this child-like people!
A spirit of contrition and love ran through them. Here the seed
has fallen upon good ground.” And again, on the next Sabbath:
“T went to learn Christ among our colliers, and drank into theix
spirit. We rejoiced for the consolation. O that our London
brethren would come to school to Kingswood! These are what
they pretend tobe. God knows their poverty; but they are rich,
and daily entering into rest, without being first brought into con-
frsion. They do not hold it necessary to deny the weak faith
ir. order to get the strong. Their soul truly waiteth still upon
God, in the way of his ordinances. Ye many masters, come,
learn Christ of these outcasts; for know, ‘except ye be converted,
and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom
of heaven.’”

 

*The Life and Times of Rev. John Wesley, M.A.
Erroneous and Strange Doctrines. 178

 

After repeated interviews and patient waiting, John Wesley
saw that the Moravian trouble had but one solution. There was
no hope of those who controlled the London Society, whatever the
Brethren might be elsewhere. All was confusion. Vain jan-
glings had done their work. The learned, subtle German mystic
had his notions and clung to them, and the majority at Fetter-
lane were of his way of thinking. Wesley’s journal, in April,
shows progress:

My brother and I went to Mr. Molther again, and spent two hours in conver-
sation with him. He now also explicitly affirmed: 1. That there are no degrees in
faith; that none has any faith who has ever any doubt or fear; and that none is
justified till he has a clean heart, with the perpetual indwelling of Christ, and of
the Holy Ghost. And, 2. That every one who has not this ought, till he has it, to
be still—that is, as he explained it, not to use the ordinances, or means of grace,
so called. He also expressly asserted that to those who have a clean heart the
ordinances are not a matter of duty. They are not commanded to use them; they
are free; they may use them, or they may not.

Often Wesley expounded in Fetter-lane, laboring to bring
them to another mind on these and cognate points, showing how
unwilling he was to part with them. One who had been as a
pillar “spoke largely of the great danger that attended the doing
of outward works, and of the folly of people that keep running
about to church and sacrament, ‘as I,’ said he, ‘did till very
lately.” Another, whose influence was weighty, stood up in
meeting and asserted, in plain terms: “1. That, till they had true
faith, they ought to be still—that is (as they explained them-
selves), to abstain from the means of grace, as they are called;
the Lord’s Supper in particular. 2. That the ordinances are
not means of grace, there being no other means than Christ.”

Neglecting church and sermons was one of the peculiarities
of this strange heresy. Once Charles Wesley invited a small
company of the new faith to go with him to the house of God.
Lhe spokesman replied for himself and the rest, as they settled
themselves down: “It is good for us to be here.”

After a long conference with leading ones, even including
Spangenberg, and yielding all he could for peace, Wesley records:

But I could not agree, either, that none has any faith, so long as he is linble
to any doubt or fear; or that, till we have it, we ought to abstain from the Lord’s
Supper, or the other ordinances of God. At eight, our society met at Fetter-lane.

We sat an hour without speaking. The rest of the time was spent in dispute; one
having proposed a question concerning the Lord’s Supper, which many warmly
174 History of Methodism.

 

affirmed none ought to receive till he had “the full assurance of faith.” I ob
served every day more and more the advantage Satan had gained overus. Many
were induced to deny the gift of God, and affirm that they never had any faith at
all; and almost all these had left off the means of grace, saying they must now
cease from their own works; they must now trust in Christ alone; they were noor
sinners, and nad nothing to do but to lie at his feet.

Again, from the same journal, in June:

I took occasion to speak of the ordinances of God, as they are means of grace.
Although this expression of our Church, “means of grace,” be not found in Script-
ure, yet, if the sense of it undeniably is, to cavil at the term is a mere strife of
words. But the sense of it is undeniably found in Scripture. For God hath in
Scripture ordained prayer, reading or hearing, and the receiving the Lord’s Sup-
per, as the ordinary means of conveying his graceto man. And first, prayer. For
thus saith the Lord: “Ask, and it shall be given you. If any of you lack wisdom,
let him ask of God.” Here God plainly ordains prayer, as the means of receiving
whatsoever grace we want. Here is no restriction as to believers or unbelievers;
but least of all as to unbelievers, for such doubtless were most of those to whom he
said, “Ask, and it shall be given you.”

“Do this in remembrance of me.” In the ancient Church, every one who was
baptized communicated daily. So in the Acts we read, They “all continued daily
in the breaking of bread, and in prayer.” But in latter times, many have affirmed
that the Lord’s Supper is not a converting but a confirming ordinance. I showed,
concerning the Holy Scriptures, that to search (that is, read and hear) them isa
command of God; that this command is given to all, believers or unbelievers.

Wesley labored with them further by adducing instances of
sincere seekers having been consciously pardoned —really re-
ceived the atonement—in the act of receiving the Lord’s Supper.
Faith to lay hold of the promise was strengthened, and the in-
ward grace came to them with the outward sign.

A hard day’s work done at field-preaching, he visits them again:
“Several of our brethren, of Fetter-lane, being met in the even-
ing, Mr. 8 told them that I had been preaching up the works
of the law; ‘which,’ added Mr. V——, ‘we believers are no
more bound to-obey than the subjects of the King of England
are bound to obey the laws of the King of France.’” No wonder
Wesley exclaimed that he was “sick of such sublime divinity.”
After prayerful counsel the next week, he wrote down what he
conceived to be the difference between them: a

As to faith, you believe: 1. There are no degrees of faith; and that no man haa
any degree of it, before all things in him are become new, before he has the full
assurance of faith, the abiding witness of the Spirit, or the clear perception that

Christ dwelleth in him. 2, Accordingly, you believe there is no justifying faith.
or state of justification, short of this.

 
Erroneous and Strange Doctrines. 175

 

Whereas I believe: 1. There are degrees of’ faith; and that a man may have
some degree of it, before all things in him are become new, before he has the full
assurance of faith, the abiding witness of the Spirit, or the clear perception that
Christ dwelleth in him. 2. Accordingly, I believe there is a degree of justifying
faith (and, consequently, a state of justification) short of, and commonly antece-
dent to, this.

As to the way of faith, you believe: That the way to attain it is to wait for
hrist, and be still—that is, not to use (what we term) the means of grace; not tc
go tochurch; not to communicate; not to fast; not to use so much as private prayer
not to read the Scripture (because you believe these are not means of grace-—thai
is, do not ordinarily convey God’s grace to unbelievers; and that it is impossible
for a man to use them without trusting in them); not to do temporal good; nor to
attempt doing spiritual good.

Whereas I believe: The way to attain it is to wait for Christ, and be still, in
using all the means of grace. Therefore I believe it right, for him who knows he
has not faith (that is, that conquering faith), to go to church; to communicate; to
fast; to use as much private prayer as he can; and to read the Scripture (because
I believe these are ‘means of grace’—that is, do ordinarily convey God’s grace to
unbelievers; and that it is possible for a man to use them, without trusting in
them); to do all the temporal good he can; and endeavor to do spiritual good.

These business-like statements were deliberately made and
considered, and the result soon followed.

“One evening [July 20],” he says, “I went to the love-feast
Fetter-lane; at the conclusion of which, having said nothing till
then, I read a paper, the substance whereof was as follows:

“¢About nine months ago certain of you began to speak con-
trary to the doctrine we had till then received. The sum of what
you assert is this: 1. That there is no such thing as weak faith;
that there is no justifying faith where there is ever any doubt or
fear, or where there is not, in the full sense, a new, clean heart.
2. That a man ought not to use those ordinances of God, which
our Church terms “means of grace,” before he has such a faith
as excludes all doubt and fear, and implies a new, a clean heart.

“¢You have often affirmed that to search the Scriptures, to
pray, or to communicate, before we have this faith, is to seek sal-
vation by works; and that till these works are laid aside, no man
ean receive faith. I believe these assertions to be flatly contrary
to the word of God. I have warned you hereof again and again,
and hesought you to turn back to the law and the testimony. I
have borne with you long, hoping you would turn. Butas I find
you more and more confirmed in the error of your ways, nothing
now remains but that I should give you up to God. You that
are of the same judgment, follow me.’”
176 History of Methodism.

 

He then, without saying any thing more, withdrew, as did
eighteen or nineteen of the society. “We gathered up,” says
Charles Wesley, “our wreck (rari nantes in gurgite vastu ) floating
here arid there on the vast abyss, for nine out of ten were swal-
lowed up in the dead sea of stillness. O why was not this done six
months ago? How fatal was our delay and false moderation!”

The journal of Wednesday following says: “Our little com-
pany met at the Foundry, instead of Fetter-lane. About twenty-
five of our brethren God hath given us already, all of whom think
and speak the same thing; seven or eight and forty likewise, of
the fifty women that were in the band, desired to cast in then
lot with us.” Fetter-lane became now, and continued, the
head-quarters of the Brethren in London. Molther, who had
put forth in revolting yet seducing manner the disturbing tenets,
was withdrawn. His successors, without disavowing his teach-
ing, pursued a conciliatory course. The opinion, perhaps, is just
that the English branch of Moyravianism, at this time, was not
true to the original stock. Gradually a better understanding
grew up, and friends at first were friends again at last. It was
fortunate that the separation came when it did; otherwise, Meth-
odism might have been entangled with, if not absorbed into, an
older but feebler and less aggressive body.

At this distance it is difficult to realize how serious that trouble
was. Many of the first converts of the Wesleys were in the
Fetter-lane Society, and were carried away. The insidious evil
was eating its way into the body. The stream was about to be
corrupted at its source. It was a mighty advantage to the Wes-
leys, in this emergency, that they had the Foundry in their own
hands. Here they lifted up the warning voice against sin, and
every form of error, in the presence of people who not unfre-
quently crowded the place both within and without; some in-
quiring what they must do to be saved, and others wishful to
know whether or not there were any means of grace.

That fine hymn “ Long have I seemed to serve thee, Lord,” was
written by Charles Wesley in the midst of these disputes. It
guards against both extremes, and embodies those just views on
the subject which the brothers steadily maintained to the end of
their lives. He used to call upon the right-minded people in
his congregations at the Foundry to unite with him in singing
it; and it is difficult to conceive how any enlightened Christian
The Means of Grace. 177

 

could refuse to join in the holy exercise. Its effect under the
circumstances must have been powerful. John Wesley’s ser-
mon on “The Means of Grace ”—exhaustive and practical—was
preached about this time.*
A high authority in Wesleyan history fixes July 20, 1740, as
_“in strict propriety the real commencement of the Methodist
Societies.” Wesley, indeed, speaks of four other epochs, each
of which may be regarded as a new development. The first of
these was the rise of student Methodism, when, in 1729, four
serious students began to meet together at Oxford. The second
epoch was in April, 1736, when twenty or thirty persons began to
meet in Wesley’s house at Savannah. The third was May 1, 1738,
when, by the advice of Peter Bohler, Wesley and other serious
persons began to meet in Fetter-lane. Again: “In the latter end
of the year 1739 eight or ten persons came to me in London, and
desired that I would spend some time with them in prayer, and
advise them how to flee from the wrath to come; this was the
rise of the Unitep Socirty.” Yet, even at this last-named period,
Wesley was connected with the Fetter-lane Society and the Mora-
vians; so that the Society formed by him in 1739 did not stand -
out as a separate and distinct religious body. But after Sunday,
July 20th, 1740, all the initiatory stages of an orthodox, homo-
geneous, and self-governing body had been passed through, and
there was (in its infancy, indeed, but having a separate existence
and action) a Wesleyan Methodist Society. Not that it was
known by that name—it was not; “but from that germ the Wes-
leyan Society has grown, and no other change has passed upon
it, except from small to great, from few to many, from weak to
strong, from a rudimental condition to one of full development.
'The Society then formed at the Foundry has remained, by a con-
linual accession of new members, to the present time.” +

 

*Sermon No. XVI. History of Wesleyan Methodism, Geo. Smith, F.A.8
12
CHAPTER XIV.

Lay Preaching: How Begun; Its Necessity and Right—Conservatism Tnwrough:
into Methodism—Qualification of the “Unlearned” Preacher.

; EW fields were occupied; the work enlarged; there was ac
retreating; but where are the preachers to come from to
sustain the movement? The Lord will provide. In his absence
from London, Wesley appointed a young layman—Thomas Max-
field—to hold prayer-meetings, to exhort, and give spiritual ad-
vice, as they might need it, to the people who met at the Found-
ry. Being fervent in spirit and mighty in the Scriptures, he
greatly profited the people. They crowded to hear him, and by
the increase of their number, as well as by their earnest and
deep attention, they led him insensibly to go farther than he had
at first designed. He began to preach, and the Lord so blessed
the word that many were brought to repentance and a conscious-
ness of pardon. The Scripture marks of true conversion evinced
the work to be of God. Some were offended at this irregularity.
A complaint was made to Wesley, and he hastened to London to
put a stop to it. His mother then lived in his house, adjoining
‘to the Foundry. When he arrived, she perceived that his coun-
tenance was expressive of dissatisfaction, and inquired the cause.
“Thomas Maxfield,” said he abruptly, “has turned preacher, I
find.” She looked attentively at him, and replied: “John, you
know what my sentiments have been. You cannot suspect me
of favoring readily any thing of this kind. But take care what
you do with respect to that young man, for he is as surely called
of God to preach as you are. Examine what have been the fruits
of his preaching, and hear him also yourself.” Hedid so. His
prejudice bowed before the force of truth, and he could only say,
“Tt is the Lord; let him do what seemeth him good.” Afterward,
some of those young men who had thus begun to preach offered
themselves to assist their father in the gospel, by preaching
wherever he might appoint them. Maxfield, Richards, Westall,
John Nelson, Joseph Humphries, at first, and then a host of
other itinerants, came forward in the course of time. Wesley

said, “I durst not refuse their assistance.” Lay preaching was
(178)
Wesley and Lay Preacheng. 179

 

a part of Methodism; indeed, without it there would have been
no Methodism larger and more lasting than the Religious Soci-
eties of the former century; but bringing into the field that
mighty arm of gospel service was unpremeditated by Wesley.
It was contrary to all his previous views, and he submitted to it
as to a manifestation of the Divine will. “If he erred at all in
this matter,” says a high Wesleyan authority, “it was not in the
way of innovation, but by an improper adherence to the practice
of the Church of England in refusing to allow such men, although
so clearly called of God, to administer the sacraments, because
they were not episcopally ordained. Yet to this practice he did
adhere, although he could not defend it on scriptural grounds.” *

It is safe to assume the reproductive power of the gospel.
Wherever souls are converted under preaching, among the con
verts will be found some who are called of the Holy Spinit and
qualified to preach. “Wesley,” continues the same author, “was
not embarrassed for want of fellow-laborers; by the barrenness of
his converts, and the paucity of spiritual gifts among them.
Seldom has the Church seen persons more richly endowed with
all the qualifications essential to spiritual usefulness. He had
men among his sons in the gospel qualified for every kind of
ministerial duty, but nothing except a clear providential call
could induce him to depart so far from the order of the Estab-
lished Church as to give his sanction to the preaching of laymen
in his societies.” t

Lay preaching, like lay baptism, has about it the ill odor of
apostolic succession. If the term be used to distinguish between
persons separated to preaching and the pastoral care, and others
who, while licensed to preach, follow secular pursuits, and are
not amenable to the laws and usages regulating the labors of
those under vows to “ devote themselves wnolly to God and his
work”—utility may justify its employment.{ But the term was
long applied to men who were devoting themselves wholly to God
and his work; who annually received appointments to pastoral
care; who were models of ministerial fidelity and propriety; and
whose gifts, graces, and usefulness would have adorned any age
of the Church. Wesley had to move slowly. The pressure was
great on both sides: on one, he was blamed for allowing lay

 

*Smith’s History of Wesley and his Times. tIbid. {The terms in general
we among Methodists are better—traveling and local preachers.
180 History of Methodism.

preachers at all; on the other, for not allowing those under whose
ministry congregations were gathered and edified, and souls con-
verted, to go farther, and administer to them the sacraments as
well as the word. Watson pronounces his defense of himself on
the first point “irrefutable;” and it turns upon the disappoint-
ment of his hopes that the parochial clergy would take the
charge of those who in different places had been brought to Goi!
by his ministry and that of his fellow-laborers. These are Wes
ley’s words:

 

It pleased God, by two.or three ministers of the Church of England, to cal)
many sinners to repentance, who in several parts were undeniably turned from a
‘course of sin to a course of holiness. The ministers of the places where this was
done ought to have taken those persons who had just begun to serve God into their
particular care, watching over them in tender love, lest they should fall back into
the snare of the devil. And how did they watch over the sinners lately reformed?
Even as a leopard watcheth over his prey. They drove some of them from the
Lord’s table; to which till now they had no desire to approach. They preached
all manner of evil concerning them, openly cursing them in the name of the Lord.
They turned many out of their work, persuaded others to do so too, and harassed
them in all manner of ways. When the ministers, by whom God had helped them
before, came again to those places, great part of their work was to begin again, if
it could be begun again; but the relapsers were often so hardened in sin that no
impression could be made upon them. What could they do in a case of so extreme
necessity, where so many souls lay at stake?

“God,” says Watson, “had given him large fruits of his min-
istry in various places. When he was absent from them, the
people were ‘as sheep having no shepherd,’ or were rather per-
secuted by their natural pastors, the clergy; he was reduced,
therefore, to the necessity of leaving them without religious care,
or of providing it for them. He wisely chose the latter; but,
true to his own principles, and even prejudices, he carried this
no farther than the necessity of the case; the hours of service
were in no instance to interfere with those of the Establishment,
and at the parish church the members were exhorted to commu
nicate. Mr. Wesley resisted all attempts at a formal separation,
still hoping that a more friendly spirit would spring up among
the clergy; and he even pressed hard upon the consciences of
lis people to effect their uniform and constant attendance at their
parish churches and at the sacrament; but he could not long and
generally succeed. The effect was, that long before his death
the attendance of the Methodists at such parish churches as had
not picts ministers was exceeding scanty; and as tley were not
(uestion of the Sacraments. 181

 

permitted public worship among themselves in the hours of
Chareh service, a great part of the Sabbath was lost to them, ex-
cept us they employed it in family and private exercises. Sv
also as to the Lord’s Supper: as it was not then administered by
their own ministers, it fell into great and painful neglect.”

This soon came to be, among the Methodists, the question of
the day. The attempt to force them to an attendance upon the
services of the Established Church, by refusing to them the sac-
raments from their own preachers, and by closing their chapels
during the Sabbath, except early in the morning and in the even-
ing, drove many of them into a state of actual separation both
from the State Church and their own societies, and placed them
in the hands of Dissenters. It required uncommon meekness
for men, after hearing a sermon that railed at them and their
teachers, to kneel at the chancel, with bruises on their bodies,
and receive the sacrament from the hands of a clergyman who
had set the mob on them. Charles Wesley did his best, especial-
ly at Bristol and London, to supply the saerament to the Meth-
odists; but this partial or local accommodation only made the
dissatisfaction greater in other places. His High-church feelings
could hardly endure the innovation of lay preaching; but the ad-
ministration of the sacraments by men not episcopally ordained
was quite out of the question; it would make Dissenters out of
them ipso facto, and bring on separation! He wrote to John
Nelson: “John, I love thee from my heart; yet, rather than see
thee a Dissenting minister, I wish to see thee smiling in thy cof-
fin.” Whitefield, when doing his glorious work among the neg-
lected colliers at Kingswood, complains that “ while he was thus
employed some of the clergy in Bristol inveighed against him
from their pulpits with great vehemence, and others complained
bitterly of the intolerable increase of their labor when he brought
large companies of reclaimed profligates to the churches to re
ceive the Lord’s Supper.” Charles Wesley had récorded under
date of Oct. 18, 1740, Bristol—several years before he wrote the
above to John Nelson: “I waited with my brother upon a min-
ister, about baptizing some of his parish. He complained heay-
ily of the multitude of our communicants, and produced the
canon against strangers. He could not admit that as a reason
for their coming to his church—that they had ro sacrament at
their own. J offered mv assistance to lessen his trouble, hut be

L
182 History of Methodism.

 

declined it. There were a hundred new communicants, he told
us, last Sunday; and he added: ‘I am credibly informed some
of them came out of spite to me.’”” Yet this good man—this
primitive Methodist—was so wedded to the Established Church
that unless John Nelson, and others like him, could be “ episco-
pally ordained” he would rather see John “smiling in his cof-
fin’ than upon a presbyterial ordination administering baptism
or the Lord’s Supper to a Methodist congregation. How ground-
less and absurd the theory, popular in certain quarters, that
“ambition”? was at the bottom of the Methodist movement!

One is tempted to impatience at such conservatism. Providen-
tially led, the founder of Methodism was careful not at any time
to get ahead of Providence; for whoever does that will often be
compelled to retrace his steps. Wesley moved slowly—perhaps
it is well that he did. At this stage of the case, he writes defen-
sively of those God had given him:

It is true that in ordinary cases both an inward and an outward call are requisite.
But we apprehend there is something far from ordinary in the present case; and
upon the calmest view of things we think they who are only called of God, and
not of man, have more right to preach than they who are only called of man, and
not of God. Now, that many of the clergy, though called of man, are not called
of God to preach his gospel is undeniable: 1. Because they themselves utterly dis-
claim—nay, and ridicule—the inward call. 2. Because they do not know what the
gospel is; of consequence, they do not and cannot preach it. This, at present, is my
chief embarrassment. That I have not gone too far yet, I know; but whether I
have gone far enough, I am extremely doubtful. I see those running whom God
hath not sent; destroying their own souls and those that hear them. Unless I
warn, in all ways I can, these perishing souls of their danger, am I clear of the
blond of these men? Soul-damning clergymen lay me under more difficulties than
soul-saving laymen!

But why were not soul-saving laymen “called of man” at this
time, as well as of God? Why were they not then ordained to
the full work of the ministry? Here we encounter the fable of
apostolic succession, of which Wesley had not yet rid himself;
also another difficulty, which we cannot help respecting—a re-
gard for the order of things long established; a reluctance at
innovation; a constitutional dislike of revolution. The men who
easily give up convictions, and even prejudices, on fundamental
matters, and are ever ready for radical changes, are not the kind
of instruments for working solid and enduring reformations.
Conservatism in revolution is a rare and valuable factor. It cre-
ates and transmits to the organization that follows the subtle
Conservatism Inwrought into Methodism. 182

 

power of stability. “Itis manifest that in neglect or contempt
of order, Christianity could not have been handed down from age
to age; but unless once and again order had given way to a higher
necessity, the gospel must by this time have lain deep buried be-
neath the corrupt accumulations of eighteen hundred years. Yet
it is a fact worthy of all regard that when Heaven sends its own
chosen men to bring about needed reformations, at the cost of
s momentary anarchy, it does not give any such commission as
this to those who by temper are anarchists.” *

By and by the Wesleyan organization in Europe and America
was completed; but its consistency and stability and strength
are largely due to cautious and slow steps. No man in England
or the Colonies was bound by law or conscience to the State
Church —the connection was purely voluntary. Yet, Methodists
did not hastily quit it. A conservative habit; subordination to
lawful power; love of order; respect for constituted authorities, so
long as they can possibly serve the purpose for which they were
constituted—this has been a heritage of Methodism. If the
fathers were too wise and too practical to put new wine into the
old bottles of succession and a national hierarchy, they first tried
the old bottles to see if.they would do; and after being thor-
oughly satisfied of their incapacity and unavailability, they laid
aside the leaky leathern bags respectfully, if not regretfully.

It was well enough that the founder of Methodism labored to
put the fruit of an evangelical ministry under the care of pastors
already licensed, and to keep the revival inside the Church where
it was needed, and in which he had been bred up and ordained;
but the priests and prelates could not see the opportunity; their
eyes were holden. “We will not go owt,” said Wesley; “if we
are thrust out, well.” It was well enough that he asked the Bish-
op of London, once and again, to ordain Methodist preachers for
America—men by every token fit for the field; his lordship, by
the letter of the law, held “jurisdiction” in the Colonies. He
refused, and thereby deprived Methodism of all that the Estab-
lished Church gained by his refusal—exactly nothing. When
the time was fully come in which no question of jurisdiction
could be raised, Wesley exercised the scriptural right of ordain-
ing men for America. He respected the “jurisdiction ” so long
as it had any show of existence. .

 

*Weslev and Methodism.
184 History of Methodism.

 

Lay preachers, so called, and their people, endured with sin-
gular patience; it was homage done to even the appearance of
law and order. Their self-denial had its reward. The attesta-
tion of Heaven not only justified but demanded the measures
subsequently taken. By their fruit ye shall know them. Men
do not gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles.

“But I am told that they are unlearned men,” said the Arch-
vishop of Armagh to Charles Wesley at the Hotwells, when ob-
jecting to lay preachers. Charles turned the point neatly, tut
his brother would have answered his Grace on the merits of the
question. In these well-known words, John would have repelled
the charge of ignorance brought against his preachers: “In one
thing which they profess to know, they are not ignorant men. I
trust there is not one of them who is not able to go through such
an examination in substantial, practical, experimental divinity as
few of our candidates for holy orders, even in the university—I
speak it with sorrow and shame—are able to do.”

‘Would not Thomas Walsh or Robert Strawbridge, and scores
of Irish Methodist preachers, have excelled the archbishop him-
self in teaching the way of salvation to an average thousand of
Irishmen? Stripped of the adventitious importance of his office.
would not they have commanded the attention of a multitude—
taking people as they are found—as well as he?

Wise master-builders are needed; but few people would dwell
in houses, if none but master-builders were to help build them.
Many a workman does well on the wall who has not the skill to
lay off a foundation, to turn an arch, or to carry up a corner. It
is as unphilosophical as unscriptural to allow no one to preach
the gospel until he can properly be styled “learned.” A man
whose literary education falls far below that standard may nev-
ertheless, in knowledge and experience, be sufficiently in advance
of multitudes of hearers to guide and teach them in religion, to
their infinite profit. Methodism is a friend of learning; it gave
“the first impulse to popular education” in the last century; it
encourages all ministers to reach the highest attainments in
knowledge, and has always been able to show a fair proportion
of men in the ranks of the “learned;” but Methodism never
committed the blunder, the crime against destitute regions and
perishing souls, of saying that none but “learned” men shall be
allowed to preach the gospel. The Christian ministry must have
Qualifications of the Ministry. 185

 

Greek and Hebrew scholars; but that all Christian ministers
must be Greek and Hebrew scholars does not follow. The link
connecting such a conclusion with that premise no logician ever
has found or can find.

The following are the practical, scriptural tests upon which
the Methodist ministry has been ordained. They were adopted
al the beginning, and they are the standard now:

Ques. 1. How shall we try those who profess to be moved by the Holy Ghust
» preach?

Ans. Let them be asked the following questions, namely:

1. Do they know God as a pardoning God? Have they the love of God abid-
ing in them? Do they desire and seek nothing but God? And are they holy in
all manner of conversation?

2. Have they gifts (as well as grace) for the work? Have they (in some toler-
able degree) a clear, sound understanding, a right judgment in the things of God,
a just conception of salvation by faith? Do they speak justly, readily, clearly?

8. Have they fruit? Are any truly convinced of sin and converted to God by
their preaching?

As long as these three marks concur in any one, we believe he is called of God

to preach. These we receive as sufficient proof that he is moved by the Holy
Ghost.

It has been well remarked that “no man could give satisfac-
tory replies to these questions unless he were truly pious and
really called of God to preach his gospel.” No candidate for a
medical or legal diploma, no applicant for a naval or military or
civil commission, can afford stronger proofs of suitable capacity
for the situation he seeks, than such affirmative answers afford
that a man is divinely called to the work of the ministry. Wes-
ley did not look for precedents; he did not appeal to ecclesias-
tical history; he rightly judged that if a “layman” had never
preached before, the layman in whom these evidences were found
was entitled to belief, when he professed “to be moved by the
Holy Ghost to preach.”
CHAPTER XV.

Whitefield Returns to America—Lays the First Brick of the Orphan-house—
An Old Friend—Concerning the Collection—Success of his Ministry—‘ Poor
Richard” gives the Contents of his Wallet—Separation between Wesley and
Whitefield—Painful Facts—Profitable Consequences.

: HITEFIELD’S visit of nine months to England resulted

in the inauguration of field-preaching and a liberal col-
lection for the Georgia orphanage. He landed at Philadelphia
in November, and sending forward his company to Savannah, he
himself went “ranging.”

He never preached with more power and success than during
the next few months. In Philadelphia it is a small thing to say
that the churches overflowed twice a day; the awakening was
shown in part by “twenty-six societies for social prayer and re-
ligious conference,” established in the city. He visited New
York, and the word of the Lord was mighty among the people.
In New Jersey his ministry was attended with great blessing.
He met the Blairs, Tennents, and others, and formed a loving
friendship for these evangelical men. His journal thus notices
the beginnings of Princeton College (Nov. 22):

Mr. Tennent and his brethren in presbytery intend breeding up gracious youths
for our Lord’s vineyard. The place wherein the young men now study is a
log-house, about twenty feet long, and nearly as many broad. From this despised
place seven or eight worthy ministers of Jesus have been sent forth, and a founda-

tion is now laying for the instruction of many others. The work, J am persuaded,
is of God, and therefore will not come to naught.

Whitefield’s tour southward was a string of appointments.
Wilmington, Annapolis, and other places, heard him gladly. At
one meeting-house in the woods he “ observed new scenes of field-
preaching” —the congregation being rated at not less than ten
thousand. People came twenty miles to hear. In Virginia he
met Commissary Blair at Williamsburg, and was “courteously
entreated” by him and the governor; of course he preached to
the élite of the Old Dominion at the capitol there.

William and Mary College, chartered and in part endowed by
the sovereigns whose name it bears, was there. Early in the cent
ury, a commencement was held at the college. Planters came in

(186)
Whitefield Again in America. 187

 

coaches; others in vessels from New York, Pennsylvania, and
Maryland—“ it being a new thing in that part of America to hear
graduates perform their exercises.” A few miles distant was
Jamestown, where the first English settlement on our Continent
was made in 1607. Parish priest and prayer-book started out with
the colony, and for a century and a quarter the Established Church
had held sway in Virginia, sternly repressing Dissenters. As
early as 1671, Gov. Berkeley wrote: “We have forty-eight parishes,
and our ministers are well paid, and by my consent should be
better if they would pray oftener and preach less. But of all other
commodities, so of this, the worst are sent tous.” Being under an
episcopal regimen, with the bishop three thousand miles off, the
churches showed the worst features of congregationalism, without
the benefits of their own system. Ministerial discipline was out
of the question, and likewise ministerial independence. The
Commissary could do nothing. He was the deputy of a bishop,
without the right to ordain or depose a minister. So long as the
parson was not installed—and the vestry had the sole right of
presentation—he was subject from year to year to be removed.
The complaint was that “the ministers were ‘most miserably
handled by their plebeian juntos, the vestries.’ The ‘hiring’ of
parsons, as it was called, was left wholly to them. In many in-
stances they resolved either to have no ministers at all or to reduce
them to their own terms. They used them as they pleased, paid
them what they pleased, and discarded them when they pleased.”

The results of Whitefield’s labors were appropriated and as-
similated in New England and New Jersey and Pennsylvania, for
there was vitality in the Congregational and Presbyterian organ-
izations. But the effete Establishment of Virginia got little prof-
it from the visitation: it was too busily engaged at keeping down
Dissenters. What they did not gather of the great evangelist’s
labors fared like seed sown on the way-side.

Fredericksburg, Virginia, did not treat him well on this or 4
subsequent tour. Jesse Lee—of whom more hereafter—passed
through Fredericksburg, about the beginning of this century:

On the 24th of March, Mr. Lee preached in this place, and was rejoiced to find
the Church enjoying a season of refreshing. It was the first spiritual visitation
for a long series of years; and it is mentioned in connection with the following
facts: When Mr. Whitefield passed through the place, on one occasion, he at
tempted to preach; and either while preaching or in seeking an opportunity to 4-
188 History of Methodism.

 

s0, he was treated with so much rudeness and incivility that, in obedience to the
words of Christ, he pulled off his shoes, and shook the dust from them, as a testi-
mony against the place. And from that solemn form of denunciation until the
time of which we are writing, it is not known that a sinner was converted; and it
is affirmed no revival of religion had ever blessed the place with its manifold
spiritual benefits. “If,” says the author, “this legend be true, the curse had
worked out itsconsummation. The indignation was past; and God had turned from
the fierceness of his anger, and now had mercy upon the people. A goodly num-
ber were gathered into the fold of Christ, a house of worship was erected, and seed
was sown that is even now bringing forth fruit unto eternal life.*

At New Berne, N. C., “his preaching was attended with uncom-
mon influence.” As he approached Charleston, “he could scarce-
ly believe but he was amongst Londoners, both in respect of
gayety of dress and politeness of manners.” He arrived at
Savannah January 11th. It was a melancholy thing to see the
colony of Georgia reduced even to a much lower ebb than when
he left it, and almost deserted by all but such as could not well
go away. \ Employing these, therefore, he thought would be of
singular service, and the money expended might be also a
means of keeping them in the colony. Before his arrival, Mr.
Habersham had pitched upon a plot of ground of five hundred
acres for the Orphan-house, about ten miles from Savannah,
and had already begun to clear and stock it. The orphans, in
the meantime, were accommodated in a hired house. On the
25th of March, 1740, he laid the first brick of the house, which
he called “ Bethesda,” 7. ¢., a house of mercy. By this time near
forty children were taken in, to be provided with food and rai-
ment; and counting the workmen and all, he had near a hundred
to be daily fed. He had very little money in bank, and yet he
was persuaded that the best thing he could do at present for the
infant colony was to carry on the work.

Here we look around for an old friend; for when we parted
with Peter Béhler he was on his way to Savannah, to preach to
the Brethren and to the negroes, and—as he might be able—ta
the Indians. He had a very long and perilous voyage, and on
his arrival in Georgia found every thing in tumult, resulting
from war between England and Spain. Many of the Moravian
colonists, whose fears of personal safety were not groundless,
had fled to Pennsylvania; and Boéhler found a mere handful of
Brethren and few slaves. During the summer he was prostrated

 

* Life avd Times of Rev. Jesse Lee, by L. M. Lee, D.D
The Orphan-house—An Old Friend. 189

 

by fever, and barely recovered in time to bury the beloved Schu-
lius Richter, his companion and first-born in the gospel. Bohler
and Seiffart, with sad hearts, led the remnant of their flock, on
foot, through the wilderness to Wyoming Valley, and there es-
tablished the famous Moravian settlement. Under the shadow
of a broad oak, on the bark of which the initials of Bohler and
Seiffart were visible so late as 1799, they returned thanks, in the
fine hymns of their native land, to the God of all grace for his
care.* Bohler adapted himself to his new position with his usual
tact. He superintended the carpenters and wielded the ax; he
handled the saw with hearty good-will; he encouraged the work-
men by his counsels and example, and conducted their daily serv-
ices with great unction and power. He walked also to a distant
mill to procure the necessaries of life, preached with his accus-
tomed fervor on the Sabbath, and performed all the duties of
a Christian pastor with rare fidelity. The spiritual life of the
community was thus sustained; and Bohler refers to the period
as a season peculiarly blessed of the Lord. He was consecrated
bishop at Herrnhag, in 1748; crossed the Atlantic six or eight
times, serving his Church in both hemispheres—now in the
universities and cities of the Old World, and now among the
Indian tribes and infant settlements of the New. In 1775 he
died, or entered into “the metropolis of souls,” as heaven is aptly
termed in Moravian phraseology.t

Whitefield, to escape the summer heat, and to raise funds for the
enterprise in hand, returned northward, preaching the gospel and,
Paul-like, taking a collection. The first collection he made in
America was in Charleston. He was desired by some of the in-
habitants to speak in behalf of the poor orphans, and the collec-
tion amounted to £70. This was no small encouragement at that
time, especially as he had reason to think it came from those who
had received spiritual benefit by his ministrations. At Phila-
delphia he preached in the fields, and large collections were made
for the Orphan-house—once, £110. Societies for praying and
singing were increased, and many were concerned about their
salvation. “Many negroes came,” says Whitefield, “some in-
quiring, Have Ia soul?” He had the subtle power of interest-

* Life of Peter Bébler, by Lockwood.

+A worthy descendant of this excellent man—a Miss Bohler—until lately re-
sided at Bethlehem, Pa., being connected with the Moravian Female Seminary.

 
190 History of Methodism.

 

ing all classes of hearers, and of chaining to his lips every ear
within sound of his voice. A ship-builder was asked what he
thought of him. “Think!” he replied; “I tell you, sir, every
Sunday that I go to my parish church I can build a ship from
stem to stern under the sermon; but were it to save my soul,
under Mr. Whitefield, I could not lay a single plank.” But per-
haps the greatest proof of his persuasive powers was when he
drew from Franklin’s pocket the money which the author of
“Poor Richard” had determined not to give. “I did not,” says
the philosopher, “approve of the Orphan-liouse at Savannah.
Georgia was destitute of materials and workmen, and it was pro-
posed to send them from Philadelphia, at a great expense. I
thought it would have been better to have built the house at
Philadelphia, and brought the children to it. This I advised,
but he was resolute in his first project, rejected my counsel, and
I therefore refused to contribute. I happened, soon after, to at-
tend one of his sermons, in the course of which I perceived he
intended to finish with a collection, and I silently resolved he
should get nothing from me. I had in my pocket a handful of
copper money, three or four silver dollars, and five pistoles in
gold. As he proceeded I began to soften, and concluded to give
the copper; another stroke of his oratory made me ashamed of
that and determined me to give the silver; and he finished so au-
mirably that I emptied my pocket into the collector’s dish, gold
and all. At this sermon,” continues Franklin, “there was also
one of our club who, being of my sentiments respecting the
building in Georgia, and suspecting a collection might be intend-
ed, had by precaution emptied his pockets before he came from
home. Toward the conclusion of the discourse, however, he felt
a strong inclination to give, and applied to a neighbor who stood
near him to lend him some money for the purpose. The request
was fortunately made to perhaps the only man in the company
who had the firmness not to be affected by the preacher. His
answer was: ‘At any other time, friend Hopkinson, I would lend
thee freely, but not now, for thee seems to me to be out of thy
right senses.’ ”

About this time Whitefield sent his confidential friend and
agent, Seward, over to England on important business:

To acquaint the Trustees of Georgia with the state of the colony, and the means,
under God, for the better establishment thereof, it being now upheld almost wholly
Whitefield’s Gospel-ranging. 191

 

by the soldiery and Orphan-house, most of the people who are unconcerned in
either being gone or about to go. The proper means are principally three: 1. An
allowance of negroes, 2. A free title to the lands [under the Trustee-government
females could not inherit]. 3. An independent magistracy, viz., such as are able
and willing to serve without fee or reward. Further, to bring over the money
lodged in their [Trustees] hands for building the church at Savannah.

He kept on preaching, generally twice a day, though sometimes
so overpowered by heat that he had to be lifted to his horse,
riding for the next appointment. With great joy he returned to
the Orphan-house, bringing, in money and provisions, more than
£500. His family was now increased to one hundred and fifty,
and his friends, believing the work to be of God, continued to
assist him. Though he was now very weak, the cry from various
quarters for more preaching, and the necessity of supplying so
large a family, made him go again to Charleston, where, as well
as at many other towns, the people thronged. Charleston was
the place of his greatest success, and of the greatest opposition.
The Commissary thundered anathemas and wrote against him,
but all in vain; helping friends still more increased. His gospel-
ranging was itinerancy on a large scale. He reached New En-
gland, and great was the stir; he visited Jonathan Edwards, at
Northampton. At every place on the road pulpits were open,
and a divine unction attended his preaching. After leaving
Northampton, he preached in many towns to large and affected
congregations. The good old Governor of Massachusetts carried
him in his coach from place to place, and could not help follow-
ing him fifty miles out of town, saying, “Thanks be to God for
such refreshings on our way to heaven!” The Boston people
generally received him as an angel of God. ‘“ When he preached
his farewell sermon in the Common, there were twenty-three
thousand at a moderate computation.” Dr. Samuel Hopkins,
then a student, says in his Memoirs: “He preached against
mixed dancing and the frolicking of males and females together;
which practice was then very common in New England. This
offended some, especially young people. But I remember I jus-
tified him in this in my own mind and in conversation with those
who were disposed to condemn him. This was in 1740, when I
entered on my last year in college.” December 1, he set sail for
Charleston, and makes the following remark:

It is now the seventy-fifth day since I arrived in Reedy Island. My body waa
then weak, but the Lord has much renewed its strength. I have been enabled te
192 History of Methodism.

 

preach, I think, a hundred and seventy-five times in public, besides exhorting fre-
quently in private. I have traveled upward of eight hundred miles, and gotten
upward of £700 in goods, provisions, and money, for the Georgia orphans. Never
did I perform my journeys with so little fatigue, or see such a continuance of the
Divine presence in the congregations to which I have preached. “Praise the
Lord, O my soul!”

After preaching at Charleston and Savannah, he arrived at
Bethesda in December, and in January left for England.*

Hitherto the two Wesleys and Whitefield have worked togeth-
er. Wesley once inquired, “Have we not leaned too much to
Calvinism?” Whitefield no doubt felt that he had leaned too
much to Arminianism. These tendencies must develop in all
earnest and vigorous minds, until a consistent, not to say scientific,
basis is reached. Each, therefore, became more pronounced.
There is no half-way system. Now came what was equally pain-
ful to both parties, but inevitable— separation. Whitefield’s
New England associations and reading had advanced and inten-
sified him, and he communicated his views to friends in Old En-
gland—not without effect. The latent Calvinism and the latent
Arminianism in Methodism began to strive with each other like
Rebecca’s twins. After the birth they were brothers still, but
must live and work apart.

The first intimation of an outbreak in the London Society was
on this wise: A leading member, by name Acourt, had introduced
his disputed tenets, till Charles Wesley gave orders that he should
no longer be admitted. John was present when next he presented
himself and demanded whether they refused admitting a person
only because he differed from them in opinion. Wesley an-
swered “No,” but asked what opinions he meant. He replied:
“That of election. J hold that a certain number are elected from
eternity, and these must and shall be saved, and the rest of man-
kind must and shall be damned.” And he affirmed that many
of the Society held the same; upon which Wesley observed that
he never asked whether they did or not; “only let them not
trouble others by disputing about it.” Acourt replied: “Nay,
but I will dispute about it.” ‘Why then,” said Wesley, “would
you come among us, who you know are of another mind?” “Be-
eause you are all wrong, and I am resolved to set you al! right.”
“T fear,” said Wesley, “your coming with this view would nei-
ther profit you nor us.” “Then,” replied Acourt, “I will go and

 

* Memoirs of the Rev. Geo. Whitefield, by Gillies.
Wesley’s Sermon on “Free Grace.” 193

 

tell all the world that you and your brother are false prophets.
And I tell you in one fortnight you will all:-be in confusion.”
John Cennick had been appointed by the Wesleys to teach the
Kingswood School and, in their absence, to care for the Socie
at Bristol. He had developed his Calvinism and stolen away the
hearts of half the people before they were aware of the mischief.
“Alas!” wrote Charles to his brother, “alas! we have set the
wolf to watch the sheep! God gave me great moderation toward
him who for many months has been undermining our doctrine
and authority.” Cennick had written a letter to Whitefield, de-
scribing from his own point of view the shocking teachings of
_.the two brothers on predestination, and concludes: “Fly, dear
brother! Iam alone—I am in the midst of the plague! If God
give thee leave, make haste!’’ Of course Cennick was discon-
_ nected from the Society, and pretty soon there was a vacancy in
the headship of the school; but he took a number with him.

To check the progress of what he regarded serious error,
Wesley preached a sermon on “Free Grace ”’—text, Rom. viii.
32.* The preacher begins by saying the grace or love of God,
whence cometh our salvation, is free in all, and free for all:

First, it is free in all to whom it is given. It does not depend on any power or
merit in man; no, not in any degree, neither in whole nor in part. It does not
in any wise depend either on the good works or righteousness of the receiver; not
on any thing he has done, or any thing he is. It does not depend on his good
tempers, or good desires, for all these flow from the free grace of God; they are
the streams only, not the fountain. They are the fruits of free grace, and not the
root. They are not the cause, but the effects of it. Thus is his grace free in all;
that is, no way depending on any power or merit in man, but on God alone, who
freely gave us his own Son, and “with him freely giveth us all things.” But is it
‘free for all, as well as in all? To this some have answered: “No, it is free only
for those whom God hath ordained to life; and they are but a little flock. The
greater part of mankind God hath ordained to death; and it is not free for them.
‘Lhem God hateth, and therefore, before they were born, decreed they should die
eternally; because so was his good pleasure, bis sovereign will. Accordingly, they

are born for this: to be destroyed body and soul in hell; and they grow up under
the irrevocable curse of God, without any possibility of redemption.”

“But,” one says, “this is not the predestination which ]
hold—I hold only the election of grace. What I believe is no
more than this: that God, before the foundation of the world,
did elect a certain number of men to be justified, sanctified, and
glorified. Now, all these will be saved, and none else.” Youdo

 

* Numbered CXXIV. in Series of Sermons: preached in Bristol, 1740
13
194 History of Methodism.

 

not hold any decree of reprobation; you do not think God de-
crees any man to be damned; you only say: “God eternally de-
creed that all being dead in sin, he would say to some of the dry
bones, Live, and to others he would not. That consequently
these should be made alive, and those abide ir death; these
should glorify God by their salvation, and those by their destruc.
tion.” Says the preacher:

If this is what you mean “by the election of grace,” I would ask one or .wu
questions: Are any who are not thus elected saved? Is it possible any manshould
be saved unless he be thus elected? If you say “No,” you are but where ycu was
—you still believe that in consequence of an unchangeable, irresistible decree of
God, the greater part of mankind abide in death, without any possibility of re-
demption; inasmuch as none can save them but God, and he will not save them.
. . So, then, though you may use softer words than some, you mean the self-same
thing. . . Call it therefore by whatever name you please, “election, preterition,
predestination, or reprobation,” it comes in the end to the same thing. The sense
of all is plainly this: by virtue of an eternal, unchangeable, irresistible decree of
God, one part of mankind are infallibly saved, and the rest infallibly damned; it
being impossible that any of the former should be damned, or that any of the latter
should be saved. .

Wesley then proceeds to state the objections to such a doctrine:
It renders all preaching vain; for preaching is needless to them
that are elected; for they, whether with it or without it, will infal-
libly be saved. And it is useless for them that are not elected;
for they, whether with preaching or without, will infallibly be
damned. It takes away those first motives to follow after ho-
liness, so frequently proposed in Scripture—the hope of fut-
ure reward and fear of punishment, the hope of heaven and
fear of hell. It destroys all motive to labor for the salvation
of men, and all sense of responsibility for their spiritual and
eternal welfare; for who can help or hinder against a fixed fate?
It is full of blasphemy, he holds, since it represents our blessed
Lord as a hypocrite, a man void of common sincerity:

For it cannot be denied that he everywhere speaks as if he was willing that al)
men should be saved. It cannot be denied that the gracious words which came
out of his mouth are full of invitations to all sinners. To say, then, he did not
intend to save all sinners, is to represent him as a gross deceiver. You cannot
deny that he says, “Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy-laden.” If,
then, you say he calls those that cannot come; those whom he knows to be un-
able tv come; those whom he can make able to come, but will not—how is it pos
sible tu describe greater insincerity? You represent him as mocking his helpless
creatures by offering what he never intends to give. You describe him as saying
one thing and meaning another. . . This doctrine represents the Most Holy Gail
Summary of Sermon on “Free Grace.” 195

as worse than the devil-——as both more false and more unjust. More fudse, because
the devil, liar as he is, hath never said he willeth all men to be saved; more un-
just, because the devil cannot, if he would, be guilty of such injustice as you as-
eribe to God when you say that God condemned millions of souls to everlasting
fire, prepared for the devil and his angels, for continuing in sin which, for want
of that grace He will not give them, they cannot avoid.

Having shown the logical consequences of the doctrine in
many directions, but at the same time not charging these prac-
tical consequences upon those whose lives disavow them—for
many there be, says the preacher, who live better than their creed
—Wesley indulges in a startling apostrophe:

This is the blasphemy for which (however I love the persons who assert it) T
abhor the doctrine of predestination—a doctrine upon the supposition of which,
if one could possibly suppose it for a moment (call it “election,” “reprobation,”
or what you please, for all comes to the same thing), one might say to our adver-
sary the devil: “Thou fool, why dost thou roar about any longer? Thy lying in
wait for souls is as needless and as useless as our preaching. Hearest thou not
that God hath taken thy work out of thy hands; and that he doeth it much more
effectually? Thou, with all thy principalities and powers, canst only so assault
that we may resist thee; but he can irresistibly destroy both body and soul in hell!
Thou canst only entice; but his unchangeable decree, to leave thousands of souls
in death, compels them to continue in sin till they drop into everlasting burnings.
Thou temptest; he forceth us to be damned, for we cannot resist his will. Thou
fool, why goest thou about any longer, seeking whom thou mayest devour? Hear-
est thou not that God is the devouring lion, the destroyer of souls, the murderer

of men?”

Wesley’s sermon entitled “ Free Grace” was printed as a 12mo
pamphlet in twenty-four pages. Annexed to it was Charles Wes-
ley’s “Hymn on Universal Redemption,” consisting of thirty-six
stanzas, of which these two are specimens:

A power to choose, a will t’ obey,
Freely his grace restores ;

We all may find the living way,
And call the Saviour ours.

Thou canst not mock the sons of men,
Invite us to draw nigh,

Offer thy grace to all, and then—
Thy grace to most deny!

Copies of the sermon reached America, and Whitefield, with
the assistance of New England friends, prepared a reply, which
was published in Boston and in Charleston, and in London
upon his arrival there. Wesley made only one objection to it.
Whitefield not only tries to refute his teaching, but unnecessarily
196 History of Methodism.

 

makes a personal attack on Wesley’s character, for which, the next
year, he humbly begged his pardon.* Wesley believed and
preached general redemption, but raised no objection to White
field’s believing and preaching election and final perseverance.
His friends wished him to reply to Whitefield’s pamphlet. He
answered: “ You may read Whitefield against Wesley, but you
shall never read Wesley against Whitefield.”

In a letter to his alienated friend, Wesley says: “These things
ought not to be. It layin your power to have prevented all, and
yet to have borne testimony to what you call ‘the truth. If you
had disliked my sermon, you might have printed another on the
same text, and have answered my proofs, without mentioning my
name; this had been fair and friendly.”

Whitefield writes: “It would have melted any heart to have
heard Mr. Charles Wesley and me weeping, after prayer, that if
possible the breach might be prevented.” Yet he could not help
chiding “brother Charles” for aiding with his poetry that ser-
mon in favor of the heresy of universal redemption. So soon did
the powerful and persuasive verse of the poet of Methodism join
with the logic of his brother in spreading the Bible truth that
God, through the atonement of the Son and the influence of the
Spirit, makes a bona fide offer of salvation to every one of the fall-
en race, and if any man is lost it must be by his own fault.

Come, sinners, to the gospel feast;
Let every soul be Jesus’ guest:

Ye need not one be left behind,
For God hath bidden all mankind.

Preventing grace is given every one who will use it, to enable
him to accept and comply with the terms of salvation—repent-
ance toward God and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. Universal
redemption, therefore, does not imply universal salvation. In
their free agency men may refuse life. To Whitefield it seemed
that the doctrine of universal redemption, as set forth by Wes-
ley, ‘is really the highest reproach upon the dignity of the Son
of God, and the merit of his blood.” He could not understand
how any could perish for whom Christ died, for “how,” he asks,
“can all be universally redeemed, if all are not finally saved.”

 

* Whitefield alluded to Wesley’s drawing a lot on a certain occasion, and in
auvh terms as to give rise, by the exaggeration of his enemies, to the monstrous
falsehood that Wesley had tossed up a shilling to determine the great question
whether he should believe and preach and print Calvinism or Arminianism.
Separation Between Wesley and Whitefield. 197

 

“Dear sir,” he writes to Wesley, “for Jesus Christ’s sake, con-
sider how you dishonor God by denying election. You plainly
make man’s salvation depend not on God’s free grace, but on man’s
Free will, Dear, dear sir, give yourself to reading. Study the
covenant of grace. Down with your carnal reasoning;” and then
he prophesies Wesley “will print another sermon the reverse of
this, and entitle it ‘Free Grace Indeed’—tfree, because not free
to all; but free, because God may withhold it or give it to whom
aud when he pleasés.”

Howell Harris, that eminent lay preacher, who with Whitefield
had awakened and evangelized Wales, and who was greatly es-
teemed and beloved by all Methodists, took up the question and
wrote to Wesley, telling him that preaching electing love brings
glory to God and benefit and consolation to the soul. He adds:
“O when will the time come when we shall all agree? Till then,
may the Lord enable us to bear with one another!”

Whitefield wrote from Bethesda to Wesley:

O that God may give you a sight of his free, sovereign, and electing love!
But no more of this. Why will you compel me to write thus? Why will you
dispute? Iam willing to go with you to prison, and to death; but I am not will-
ing to oppose you. Dear, dear sir, study the covenant of grace, that you may be
consistent with yourself. Besides, dear sir, what a fond conceit is it to cry up perfec-
tion, and yet cry down the doctrine of final perseverance? But this and many
other absurdities you will run into, because you will not own election; and you
will not own election because you cannot own it without believing the doctrine of
reprobation. What, then, is there in reprobation so horrid?

And yet later: “O that there may be harmony, and very inti-
mate union between us! Yet, it cannot be, since you hold uni-
versal redemption. The devil rages in London. He begins now
to triumph indeed. The children of God are disunited among
themselves. My dear brother, for Christ’s sake avoid all disputa-
tion. Do not oblige me to preach against you; I had rather die.”

Again, from Charleston:

My Dear anp Honorep Sir: Give me leave, with all humility, to exhort you
not to be strenuous in opposing the doctrines of election and final perseverance.

Perhaps the doctrines of election and of final perseverance have been abused ;
but, notwithstanding, they are children’s bread, and ought not to be withheld from
them, supposing they are always mentioned with proper cautions against the abuse
of them. I write not this to enter.into disputation. I cannot bear the thought
of opposing you. . . Alas! I never read any thing that Calvin wrote. My doc-
trines I had from Christ and his apostles. I was taught them of God; and as God
was pleased to send me out first, and to enlighten me first, so, I think, he still con-
tinues to do it.

M
198 - History of Methodism.

 

They were both equally conscientious, if not equally logical.
Whitefield wrote his “Letter to the Rev. Mr. John Wesley, in
answer to his sermon entitled ‘Free Grace,’” with the motto
attached, “ When Peter came to Antioch, I withstood him to the
face, because he was to be blamed.”

The “letter” is dated “Bethesda, in Georgia, December 24,
1740.” He reiterates his reluctance to write against Wesley,
protesting that Jonah could not go with more reluctance against

.Nineveh. “Were nature to speak,” said he, “JI had rather die
than do it; and yet if I am faithful to God, and to my own and
others’ souls, I must not stand neuter any longer.” On his re-
turn to England in March, 1741, Wesley called on him, and says
of the interview: “He told me he and I preached two different
gospels; and therefore he not only would not join with or give
me the right-hand of fellowship, but was resolved to preach pub-
licly against me and my brother, wheresoever he preached at all.”
This threat was carried into effect. Soon the Tabernacle was
built, not far away from the Foundry, and there Whitefield, with
Cennick, Howell Harris, and others, good men and holy, preached
Calvinistic Methodism. David and Jonathan are divided. Wes-
ley writes: “Those who believed universal redemption had no
desire to separate; but those who held particular redemption
would not hear of any accommodation, being determined to have
no fellowship with men that were ‘in such dangerous errors.’
So there were now two sorts of Methodists—those for particular
and those for general redemption.” And this comforting phi-
losophy he bases on the unwelcome fact:

The case is quite plain. There are bigots both for predestination and against
it. God is sending a message to those on either side. But neither will receive
it, unless from one who is of their own opinion. Therefore, for a time, you are
suffered to be of one opinion, and I of another. But when his time is come, tiod
will do what man cannot, namely, make us both of one mind.

Iimissaries of Satan were not wanting to make the most of the
breach. Wesley’s journal gives an incident:

"A private letter written to me by Mr. Whitefield having been printed without
either his leave or mine, great numbers of copies were given to our people, both
at the door and in the Foundry itself. Having procured one of them, I related
(after preaching) the naked fact to the congregation, and told them: “TI will do
just what: believe Mr. Whitefield would were he here himself.” Upon whick
I tore it in pieces before them all. Every one who had received it did the sume.
So that in two minutes there was not a copy left. Ah! poor Ahithophel! Jbi
omnis effusus labur! (So all the labor’s lost!)
_ A Token of Indissoluble Union. 199

 

The small men and the go-betweens were very bitter; tongues
and pens were busy, and the prophets of evil saw Methodism
coming speedily to naught. But the leaders loved and esteemed
each other, and soon came to friendly interviews. Whitefield
preached in the Foundry and Wesley in the Tabernacle, and,
as the latter said, “another stumbling-block was taken out of
the way.” Good feeling was fully restored, and while each re-
tained his opinions to the last, they agreed to disagree. When
Whitefield died in America, and his will was opened in Lon-
dor, the last item in it was found to be: “N. B.—I also leave
a mourning-ring to my honored and dear friends and disinter-
ested fellow-laborers, the Revs. John and Charles Wesley, in
token of my indissoluble union with them in heart and Chris-
tian affection, notwithstanding our difference in judgment about
some particular points of doctrine.”

And while the trustees of the Tabernacle were arranging for
the funeral, his chief executor.came forward and informed them
that he had many times said to Whitefield: “If you should die
abroad, whom shall we get to preach your funeral-sermon? Must
it be your old friend, the Rev. J obn Wesley?” And his answer
constantly was, “He is the man.’

The chief agents of the Methodist Revival are parted for a
season; each influencing a class not affected by the other. The
living stream is divided: one branch, after refreshing and en-
riching a dry and thirsty land, is absorbed and lost; the other,
with well-defined and widening banks and deepening current,
flows on.
CHAPTER XVI.

Christian Fellowship Provided for—Bands, Love-feasts, Class-meetings—Origin 0:
these Means of Grace—The Work Extends—Epworth— Wesley Preaches on
his Father’s Tombstone; Buries his Mother—Newcastle— Cornwall — Disci
pline—First Annual Conference—The Organization Complete.

HRISTIAN fellowship is a leading feature of Methodist
economy. It was early provided for in the band-meeting
and the love-feast, where mutual edification is the object, and
personal experience the subject of discourse. The poet of Meth-
odism was felicitous and fruitful in hymns for social worship.
Of the proportionally“large number on the “Communion of
Saints” in Methodist hymn-books, Charles Wesley is the author
of more than three-fourths. “The gift which He on one bestows”
is thus participated in by all.

The love-feast was taken, with little modification, from the
Moravians, who had it from the agape of the Primitive Church
Christians meet apart at stated times, and after eating the sim-
plest meal together in token of good-will, light and love are pro-
moted by conversation on the things of God, specially as related
to personal experience. Bands also were mtroduced from the
same quarter, and passed over into Methoaism. This institute
provided for a close fellowship. It required a subdivision into
small and select numbers. The band-meetings were always vol-
untary, and never a test of Society-membership. ‘Two, three,
or four true believers, who have full confidence in each other,
forma band. Only itis to be observed that in one of these bands
all must be men or all women, and all married or all single.” *
The design is to obey that command of God by St. James: “ Con-
fess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that you
may be healed.” In the rules laid down very searching inquiries
were allowed to be made of each other by the members, and very
free disclosures of the interior life, as to temptations and deliv-

 

 

* Rules of the Band Societies, drawn up for Methodist Societies, Dec. 25, 1738
The Band Rules were continued in the Methodist Discipline in America till the
year 1854, when they were eliminated by the General Conference of the M. k.
Church, South. The General Conference of the (Northern) M. E. Church can-
eeled them in 1856.

(200
Band-meetings and Class-meetings. 201

 

erances. Much cavil has been indulged in, by ignorant friends
and critical enemies, against the bands; but in vain has it been
attempted to find in them either the principle or the evil of the
Romish Confessional. Richard Watson thus replies to certain
objectors within the pale of the Established Church in his time:

‘What:ver objection may be made to these meetings, as a formal part of disci-
pline (though with us they are only recommended, not enjoined), the principle of
them is to be found in this passage of Scripture. They have been compared to
the atiricular confession of the papists, but ignorantly enough, for the confession
is in itself essentially different, and it is not made to a minister, but takes place
among private Christians to each other, and is, in fact, nothing more than a gen-
eral declaration of the religious experience of the week. Nor is the abuse of the
passage in St. James to the purpose of superstition a reason sufficient for neglect-
ing that friendly confession of faults by Christians to each other which may en-
gage their prayers in each other’s behalf. The founders of the national Church
did not come to this sweeping conclusion, notwithstanding all their zeal against
the confession of the Romish Church. In the Homily on Repentance it is said:
“We ought to confess our weakness and infirmities one to another, to the end that,
knowing each other’s frailness, we may the more earnestly pray together unto Al-
mighty God, our Heavenly Father, that he will vouchsafe to pardon us our infirm-
ities, for his Son Jesus Christ’s sake.”

The class-meeting came later, and is a distinctive outgrowth of
Methodism. This means of grace connected pastoral oversight
with Christian fellowship; it came when it was needed, provi-
dentially. Wesley’s itinerancy had begun. How could he watch
over so many souls? In London, as early as 1741, there were
over a thousand in the Society. The class-meeting is so im-
portant that Wesley’s own account of it is here given:

But as much as we endeavored to watch over each other, we soon found some
who did not live in the gospel. I do not know that any hypocrites were crept in,
for indeed there was no temptation; but several grew cold, and gave way to the
sins which had long easily beset them. We quickly perceived there were many
ill consequences of suffering these to remain among us. It was dangerous to oth-
ers, inasmuch as all sin is of an infectious nature. It brought such a scandal on
their brethren as exposed them to what was not properly the reproach of Christ.
It laid a stumbling-block in the way of others, and caused the truth to be evil
sp)ken of. We groaned under these inconveniences long, before a remedy could
be found, The people were scattered so wide in all parts of the town, from Wap-
ping to Westminster, that I could not easily see what the behavior of each per-
son in his own neighborhood was; so that several disorderly walkers did much
hurt before I was apprised of it. At length, while we were thinking of quite ar-
other thing, we struck upon a method for which we have cause to bless God eve’
since. I was talking with several of the Society in Bristol (Feb. 15th, 1742) con-
cerning the means of paying the debts there, when one stood up and said: Let
202 History of Methodism.

 

every member of the Society give a penny a week, till all are paid.” Another
answered: “But many of them are poor, and cannot afford to do it.” “Then,”
said he, “put eleven of the poorest with me, and if they can give nothing, I will
give for them as well as for myself; and each of you call on eleven of your neigh-
bors weekly; receive what they give, and make up what is wanting.” It was done.
In awhile some of these informed me they found such and such a one did not
li-e as he ought. It struck me immediately, “This is the thing, the very thing
we have wanted so long.” I called together all the leaders of the classes (so we
used to term them and their companies), and desired that each would make a par-
ticular inquiry into the behavior of those whom he saw weekly. They did so.
Many disorderly walkers were detected. Some turned from the evil of their ways,
and some were put away from us.

As this took up a great deal of the leader’s time, and he had
seldom a suitable place to converse with the members personally,
it was soon resolved that the class meet in one place at a given
time, beginning and ¢losing with song and prayer. This prac-
tice became general, and gave efficiency and organization to the
Wesleyan Societies. The leaders then met Wesley or his assist-
ant at another time every week to report any cases of sickness or
disorderly conduct, and to pay the steward of the Society the
sum which had been received of the class.

Thus class-meetings began. Wesley writes: “It can scarce be
conceived what advantages have been reaped by this little pru-
dential regulation. Many now experienced that Christian fel-
lowship of which they had not so much as an idea before. They
began to bear one another’s burdens, and naturally to care for
each other’s welfare. And as they had daily a more intimate
acquaintance, so they had a more endeared affection for each oth.
er. Upon reflection, I could not but observe, This is the very
thing which was from the beginning of Christianity.” The class-
neeting was thus endowed with a pastoral, financial, and devo-
tional function. Long after “a penny a week and a shilling a
quarter” fell into disuse by the adoption of larger financial
sthemes among wealthier people, the inquiry how their souls
prospered, and giving suitable advice in every case, remained
the chief business of the class-leader. ‘Ye are my witnesses,
saith the Lord.” Jesus is entitled to the praise, and every mem-
ber to the benefit, of a work of grace in any soul. The class.
meeting not only strengthened the weak, it confirmed the strong,
end trained and developed laborers for wider fields. At the
first, Societies were of a general character; but at the opening
of the Foundry, the distinct Methodist United Society (.739)
“Form Societies in Every Place.” 203

 

was instituted; and this form of organization spread to Bristol
and elsewhere. The class-meeting began in Bristol (1742); and
this closer organization soon obtained among the Societies at
London and elsewhére. All organizations must have rules, and
the Rules of the United Societies were framed and published at
Newcastle (1743), and governed all. By and by society and
class became synonymous terms, where one class included all
the Society at a place. Some of the old members were at first
averse to this new arrangement, regarding it not as a privilege
butrather asa restraint. ‘They objected that there were no such
meetings when they joined the Society, and asked why they
should be instituted now. Wesley answered that he regarded
class-meetings not essential, nor of Divine institution, but mere-
ly prudential helps, which it was a pity the Society had not been
favored with from the beginning. “We are always open to in-
struction,” he said to these complainants, “willing to be wiser
every day than we were before, and to change whatever we can
change for the better.”

The class-meeting has been the germ of thousands of Meth-
odist churches. When, under the word, souls have been awak-
ened in any place, or when, by immigration, a few Christians are
thrown together, a class is formed. The pastor- appoints the
leader, who is in the pastor’s stead during his absence. The or-
ganization is simple and effective, at once bringing into play all
necessary machinery. Weekly meetings and the fellowship that
is involved are most helpful to those, in any state of knowledge
or grace, who are trying to work out their salvation. The
apostolic injunction of “assembling ourselves together” is ful-
filled. Prayer-meetings and preaching and the sacraments fol-
‘low, and the work expands indefinitely.

“Form Societies in every place where we preach,’ was Wes-
ley’s motto. Where this had not been done, his remark was: “All
_ the seed has fallen by the way-side; there is scarce any fruit re.
maining.” The first Societies passed readily into these classes,
and thus was formed the primary and compact organism.

About this time Whitefield wrote to Wesley: “My attachment
to America will not permit me to abide very long in England;
consequently, I should but weave a Penelope’s web if I formed
Societies; and if I should form them, I have not proper assist-
ants to take caro of them. I intend therefore to go about preach
204 History of Methodism.

 

ing the gospel to every creature. You, I suppose, are for set-
tling Societies everywhere.’ Dr. Adam Clarke says:

[t was by this means (the formation of Societies) that we have been enabled to
establish permanent and holy churches over the world. Mr. Wesley saw the ne-
cessity of this from the beginning. Mr. Whitefield, when he separated from Mr.
Wesley, did not follow it. What was the consequence? The fruit of Mr. White-
field’s labors died with himself; Mr. Wesley’s fruit remains, grows, increases, and
multiplies exceedingly. Did Mr. Whitefield see his error? He did, but not till
it wa too late. His people, long unused to it, would not come under this disci-
pline. Have I authority to say so? I have, and you shall have it. Forty years
age I traveled in Bradford, the Wilts Circuit, with Mr. John Pool. Himself told
me the following anecdote: Mr. Pool was well known to Mr. Whitefield, and hav-
ing met him one day, Whitefield accosted him in the following manner: “Well,
John, art thou stilla Wesleyan?” Pool replied: “ Yes, sir; and I thank God that
T have the privilege of being in connection with him, and one of his preachers.”
“John,” said Whitefield, “thou art in thy right place. My Brother Wesley act-
ed wisely —the souls that were awakened under his ministry he joined in class,
and thus preserved the fruits of his labor, This I neglected, and my people are a
rope of sand.”

The watch-night dates back to 1740. The Kingswood colliers
had been used to “watch the old year out” with riot and revel-
ries, and now that a reformation had taken place in them, this
their custom was reformed also. It was suggested by James
Rogers, a collier noted among his neighbors for playing on
the violin, but who, being awakened under the ministry of Charles
Wesley, went home, burned his fiddle, and told his wife that he
meant to be a Methodist. He became a faithful lay preacher.
The people met at half-past eight; the house was filled from end
to end; and “we concluded the year,” says Wesley, “ wrestling
with God in prayer, and praising him for the wonderful work
which he had already wrought upon the earth.” The meeting
soon became a favorite one, and was held monthly. Wesley
writes: “Some advised me to put an end to this; but upon weigh-
ing the thing thoroughly, and comparing it with the practice of
the ancient Christians, I could see no cause to forbid it; rather,
I believed it might be made of more general use. The Church,
in ancient times, was accustomed to spend whole nights in prayer,
which nights were termed vigilia, or vigils.” Always watchful
to promote the spiritual prosperity of his people, Wesley at a
later day introduced into his Societies the practice of renewing
the covenant on the first Sunday of every year. In many places
the renewal of the covenant closes the watch-night service.
Wesley Opens nis Mission at Newcastle. 205

 

During the next two years Wesley traversed many parts of the
kingdom, preaching almost daily, and sometimes four sermons on
the Sabbath. Helpers were raised up, and with this assistance he
was able to maintain regular worship in connection with his vari-
ous Societies, and at the same time to extend the work into new
districts. While he was passing and repassing between London
and Bristol, with continual deviations to Southampton, Leicester,
Nottingham, Bath, and Wales, Charles Wesley was scarcely less
active. It required the utmost efforts of the brothers to guard
their people against Moravian stillness and Antinomianism on

‘the one hand, and Whitefield’s doctrine of predestination on the
other. By 1742 Wesley had not only formed numerous Societies,
but saw more fruit of his labors rising up around him as able as-
sistants. Twenty-three preachers were, during this year, regu-
larly engaged as helpers, besides many local preachers. Ingham
and the Delamottes, meantime, had been won over to “ Moravian
mysticism;” and it required all, and more than all, John Nelson
could do in Yorkshire to keep the “German boar of stillness”
from laying waste the vineyard in those parts.

In May Wesley invaded the north. The power of the gospel
as exhibited at Kingswood was equal to the wants of Newcastle.
The opening of his mission at this point, where one of his strong-
est churches was planted and an important center of operations
established, deserves notice. The account exhibits all the ele-
ments of the successful evangelist. His journal (1742) says:

We came to Newcastle-upon-Tyne about six, and, after a short refreshment,
walked into the town. I was surprised; so much drunkenness, cursing, and swearing
(even from the mouths of little children) do I never remember to have seen and
heard before, in so small a compass of time. Surely this place is ripe for Him whe
“came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.” At seven next [Sun-
day] morning I walked down to Sandgate, the poorest and most contemptil le part
of the town, and, standing at the end of the street with John Taylor, began to sing
the hundredth Psalm. Three or four people came out to see what was the matter,
who soon increased to four or five hundred. I suppose there might be twelve o1
fifteen hundred, before I had done preaching; to whom I applied those solemn
words: “He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities;
the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.”
Observing the people, when I had done, to stand gaping and staring upon me, with
the most profound astonishment, I told them: “If you desire to know who I am,
my name is John Wesley. At five in the evening, with God’s help, I design to
preach here again.” At five, the hill on which I designed to preach was covered
from the top to the bottom. I never saw so large a number of people together
either in Moorfields or at Kennington Common.
206 History of Methodism.

 

On his way southward the next month, Wesley passed through
Epworth—his first visit for many years. Beginning on Sunday,
he spent a few days in the neighborhood, preaching daily with
uncommon tenderness and power. We quote from his journal:

A little before the service began [Sunday] I went to Mr. Romley, the curate,
and offered to assist him either by preaching or reading prayers. But he did not
care to accept of my assistance. The church was exceeding full in the afternoon,
a rumor being spread that I was to preach. After sermon John Taylor stood in
the church-yard, and gave notice, as the people were coming out: “Mr. Wesley,
not being permitted to preach in the church, designs to preach here at six o'clock.”
Accordingly at six I came, .and found such a congregation as I believe Epworth
never saw before. I stood near the east end of the church, upon my father’s tamb-
stone, and cried: “The kingdom of God is not meat and drink, bnt righteous-
ness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.”

He returned to the same pulpit on Friday, and during the
sermon “lamentation and great mourning were heard; God bow-
ing the hearts of the people, so that on every side, as with one
accord, they lifted up their voice and wept aloud.”

Wesley tells of the next day: “I preached on the righteous-
ness of the law and the righteousness of faith. While I was
speaking, several dropped down as dead; and among the rest,
such a cry was heard, of sinners groaning for the righteousness
of faith, as almost drowned my voice. But many of these soon
lifted up their heads with joy, and broke out into thanksgiving;
being assured they now had the desire of their soul—the forgive-
ness of their sins. J observed a gentleman there who was re-
markable for not pretending to be of any religion at all. I was
informed he had not been at public worship of any kind for
upward of thirty years. Seeing him stand as motionless as a
statue, I asked him abruptly, ‘Sir, are you a sinner?’ He re-
plied, with a deep and hroken voice, ‘Sinner enough;’ and con-
tinued staring upward till his wife and a servant or two, who
were all in tears, put him into his chaise and carried him
home.”

And he wound up the protracted meeting on Sunday evening:
“At six I preached for the last time in Epworth church-yard (be-
ing to leave the town the next morning), to a vast multitude gath-
ered together from all parts, on the beginning of our Lord’s Ser-
mon on the Mount. I continued among them for near three
hours; and yet we scarce knew how to part. Iam well assured,”
writes Wesley, “that I did far more good to my Lincolnshire
Epworth Church-yard—Persecutions. 207

 

parishioners by preaching three days on my father’s tomb than
I did by preaching three years in his pulpit.”

All this was good news for his mother, then at his house and
awaiting her “release,” which occurred the following month.
Standing by her open grave (in Bunhill Fields, opposite City
Road Chapel), he preached her funeral-sermon from the text:
“And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God; and the
books were opened; . . and the dead were judged out of those
things which were written in the books, according to their works.”
He says: “Almost an innumerable company of people being gath-
ered together, about five in the afternoon, I committed to the
earth the body of my mother, to sleep with her fathers. It was
one of the most solemn assemblies I ever saw, or expect to see
on this side eternity.” ;

Fierce persecutions occur about this time. The clergy stir up
the people from their pulpits, and the houses of Methodists are
mobbed, and their chapels torn down. Wesley, attending a
church-service one Sunday in Staffordshire, makes this report:

On Sunday the scene began to open; I think I never heard so wicked a ser-
mon, and delivered with such bitterness of voice and manner, as that which Mr,
E——n preached in the afternoon. I knew what effect this must have in a little
time; and therefore judged it expedient to prepare the poor people for what was
to follow, that when it came they might not be offended. Accordingly, I strongly
enforced these words of our Lord: “If any man come to me, and hate not his

father and mother, . . yea, and his own life, he cannot be my disciple. And
whosoever doth not bear his cross, and come after me, cannot be my disciple.”

In a few days the Wednesbury mob took Wesley out of the
house he was preaching in, carried him round and about for sev-
eral hours with many threats of violence, but were strangely
withheld, and returned him, at ten o’clock at night, to the place
they took him from, as he says with no worse damage than a
bruised hand and the loss of “one flap of his waistcoat.” His
brother met him soon after. ‘He looked,” said Charles, “like
a soldier of Christ; his clothes were torn to tatters; ” a proof that
Wesley’s account of the loss of one flap of his waistcoat is a
modest statement. Their temper of mind is exhibited in a hymn
written by Charles Wesley after one of these tumults: «

Worship, and thanks, and blessing,
And strength ascribe to Jesus!

Jesus alone defends his own,
When earth and hell oppress us.
208 History of Methodism.

 

The hymn for opening an Annual Conference, composed after-
ward by Charles Wesley for that purpose, and sung on the first
day wherever Conferences of itinerant preachers are héld, shows
the circumstances in which it had its origin and inspiration:

And are we yet alive,
And see each other’s face?

Glory and praise to Jesus give
For his redeeming grace!

What troubles have we seen,
What conflicts have we passed,
Fightings without, and fears within,
Since we assembled last!

Charles visited Cornwall, the chapel at St. Ives at that time
being the head-quarters of Methodism in the west. Here, as in
Wednesbury, be found the clergy using their utmost efforts to
stir up the people against the new sect. The consequence was a
series of disgraceful riots, dangerous to the lives of the Method-
ists and their ministers, and destructive of their property. Dur.
ing those seasons of violence the “preaching-house”’ at St. Ives
was gutted and the benches and furniture destroyed, the preach-
er and congregation being savagely assaulted. The church-war-
den at Pool, heading a mob, drove the preacher and congregation
to the border of the parish; then, leaving them there, he returned
and rewarded his followers with drink in the ale-house at Pool,
in consequence of which the following entry may now be found
in the parish book: “Expenses at Ann Gartrell’s on driving the
Methodists, nine shillings.” *

How the Methodists moved on a place, when they meant to take
it, is illustrated by the manner in which Cornwall was subdued to
Christ. Charles Wesley remained preaching in every part of the
mining region with great success, notwithstanding furious per-
secution, until the first week in August (1743), when he returned
to London. In less than a month his brother arrived at St. Ives.
On this occasion John Nelson accompanied Wesley; his journal,
therefore, affords information. Nelson set out from London for
this journey in company with another preacher; they had but one
horse between the two, and came through Oxford, and preached in
the towns by the way. After preaching at Bristol and Bath,
Nelson and Downes proceeded toward Cornwall with Wesley,

 

* History of Wesleyan Methodism, by Geo. Smith, F A.S.
How Cornwall was Subdued to Christ. 209

 

who was accompanied. by Mr. Shepherd, who had been preaching
in that quarter. They appear to have had a horse each; for
Nelson says, “ We generally set out before Mr. Wesley and Mr.
Shepherd.” Having reached St. Ives, Wesley’s first care here,
as in other places, was to make a thorough examination of the
classes. He found about one hundred and twenty members; and
near a hundred of these enjoyed peace with God

So soon as they were fairly at their journey’s end, John Nelson
went to work at his trade as a mason; and not long after, Downes,
being taken ill of fever, was for a time laid aside. Wesley and
Shepherd immediately began to preach, and were joined in these
labors by Nelson in the evenings. These laborers in a short time
spread the gospel most abundantly over the narrow peninsula of
West Cornwall.

What they endured in the prosecution of their mission may
be seen from Nelson’s journal. As soon as he had finished his.
job of work, he also fully devoted himself to preaching; and of
this period he says: “All this time Mr. Wesley and I lay on the
floor; he had my greatcoat for his pillow, and I had Burkitt’s
‘Notes on the New Testament’ for mine. After being here near
three weeks, one morning about three o’clock, Mr. Wesley turned
over, and, finding me awake, clapped me on the side, saying:
‘Brother Nelson, let us be of good cheer; I have one whole
side yet, for the skin is off but on one side.’” Nelson continues:
“We usually preached on the’ commons, going from one com-
mon to another, and it was but seldom any one asked us to eat or
drink. One day we had been at St. Hilary Downs, and Mr. Wes-
ley had preached from Ezekiel’s vision of dry bones, and there
was a shaking among the people as he preached. As we returned,
Mr. Wesley stopped his horse to pick the blackberries, saying:
‘Brother Nelson, we ought to be thankful that there are plenty
of blackberries; for this is the best country I ever saw for getting
a stomach, but the worst that ever I saw for getting food. Do the
people think we can live by preaching?’” Wesley says that the
last mourning of his stay he was waked between three and four
by a company of miners, who, fearing they should be too late
for the five. o’clock preaching, had gathered around the house,
and were singing hymns.

Fidelity and closeness of pastoral oversight was a feature of

Wesleyan polity, as appears by very many journalized visitations.
14
210 History of Methodism.

 

Take these from the latter end of 1743.—At Bristol, Wesley
prosecuted a careful inquiry into the state of the Society by
speaking with every member individually, and rejoiced to find
them neither “barren nor unfruitful in the knowledge of onr
Lord Jesus Christ.” ‘On the following days,” he says, “I spoke
with each member of the Society in Kingswood. I cannot un-
derstand how any minister can hope ever to give up his account
with joy, unless (as Ignatius advises) he ‘knows all his flock by
name, not overlooking, the men-servants and maid-servants.”
About the end of the month he went to London, where, assisted
by his brother, he made a similar visitation of the London Soci-
ety; at the close of it he preached a sermon, and made a collec-
tion of £50 toward the expense of building the chapel at New-
castle. In 1745 he carefully examined the Society in London
ane by one, and wrote a list of the whole with his own hand, num-
bered from one to two thousand and eight. In 1746 he repeated
this operation, and wrote another list, in which the number was
reduced to one thousand nine hundred and thirty-nine.

Northward he moves early in 1744. Arrived in Newcastle, be-
tween three and four hundred miles from Bristol, after preach-
ing in the town and in adjacent places, he read the rules to the
Society, and commenced a careful examination of the roll. He
was particular in this inquiry because of the great revival which
had taken place a few months before. The result was that sev-
enty-six had left the Society, and sixty-four were expelled. Com-
ing to particulars concerning those expelled, we get an insight
into the moral code, as well as discipline of those days. His
journal tells us: “Two for cursing and swearing; two for ha-
bitual Sabbath- breaking; seventeen for drunkenness; two for
retailing spirituous liquors; three for quarreling and brawling;
three for habitual, willful lying; four for railing and evil-speak-
ing,” etc.

What of those withdrawn? Wesley accounts for them, too, in
his journal:

I observed the number of those who had left the Society, since December, was
seventy-six; fourteen of these (chiefly Dissenters) said they left it because other
wise their ministers would not give them the sacrament; nine more, because their
husbands or wives were not willing they should stay in it; twelve, because their
parents were not willing; five, because their master and mistress would not let

them come; seven, because their acquaintance persuaded them to leave it; five,
because people said such bad things of the Society; nine, because they would not
The First Annual Conference. 211

 

be laughed at; three, because they would not lose the poor’s allowance; three
more, because they could not spare time to come; two, because it was too far off;
one, because she was afraid of falling into fits; one, because people were so rude in
the street; two, because Thomas N—— was in the Society; one, because he would
not turn his back on his baptism; one, because we were mere Church of England
men; and one, because it was time enough to serve God yet. ,

Or. his return to London he raised £60, to alleviate the suffer-
ings of the persecuted Methodists in Staffordshire, whose houses
could be known, as one rode along the street, by the broken doors
and windows, and by other signs of violence. He visited Cornwall
Jater in the spring. At St. Ives the preaching-house was demol-
ished. The people had been excited to such frenzy against the
Methodists that on hearing that the British Admiral Matthews
had beat the Spaniards, they manifested their joy by tearing
down the Methodist chapel. But at last the cause triumphed
gloriously in Cornwall.

It is time for another forward step—the first Annual Confer-
ence. Wesley had been pursuing his itinerant course about five
years. He had in connection with him as fellow-lahorers forty-
five preachers, including half a dozen ministers of the Establish-
ment who coéperated with him. This number is exclusive of the
local preachers throughout the country, of whom there was a con-
siderable number. Societies had been formed in many of the
principal towns from Land’s'End to Newcastle. The number of
members is not known. Thére were nearly three thousand in
London, and the aggregate number throughout the country must
have been several thousand. The first Conference was a meeting
of his “helpers,” or lay assistants, and the pious clergymen who
had sympathized with them. He requested the attendance of
these persons, and has left on record his object for doing so:

In 1744 I wrote to several clergymen, and to all who then served me as sons in
the gospel, desiring them to meet me in London, and to give me their advice con-
cerning the best method of carrying on the work of God.

This original Conference was held at the Foundry, and began
June 25th. There were present John Wesley, Charlee Wesley;
John Hodges, rector of Wenvo; Henry Piers, vicar of Bexley;
Samuel Taylor, vicar of Quinton; and John Meriton, a clergy-
man from the Isle of Man. Thomas Richards, Thomas Max-
field, John Bennett, and John Downes were the helpers, or lay

preachers, present.
212 History of Methodism.

On the day before the Conference commenced, besides the or-
dinary preaching services, a love-feast was held; and during the
day the Lord’s Supper was administered to the whole London
Society, now numbering between two and three thousand mem-
bers. The sessions were held by adjournment from Monday,
June 25th, till the end of the week. Great precaution was taken
by Wesley in enacting suitable rules for the discussions of the
Conference. It was decided “to check no one, either by word
or look, even though he should say what is quite wrong; to be.
ware of making haste, or of showing or indulging any impa-.
tience, whether of delay or contradiction;” that “every question
proposed be fully debated, and ‘bolted to the bran.’”

Preliminaries having been arranged, and earnest prayer offered,
the design of the meeting was proposed under three heads,
namely: To “consider, 1. What to teach. 2. How to teach. 3
What to do; that is, how to regulate our doctrine, discipline, and
practice.” Under the first head, a conversation was continued
throughout this and the following day, which embraced the lead-
ing doctrines of the gospel, such as justification, saving faith,
imputed righteousness, sanctification, ete.:

 

We began by considering the doctrine of justification; the questions relating 10
which, with the substance of the answers given thereto, were as follows: Q. What
is it to be justified? A. To be pardoned, and received into God’s favor, into such
a, state that if we continue therein we shall be finally saved. Q, Is faith the com
dition of justification? A. Yes; for every one who believeth not is condemnen,
and every one who believes is justified. Q. But must not repentance, and worl:s
meet for repentance, go before this faith? A. Without doubt, if by repentance
you mean conviction of sin, and by works meet for repentance, obeying God as fur
as we can, forgiving our brother, leaving off evil, doing good, and using his ordi-
nances according to the power we have received. Q. What is faith? A. First, a
sinner is convinced by the Holy Ghost—“ Christ loved me, and gave himself for.
me.” This is that faith by which he is justified, or pardoned, the moment he re-
ceives it. Immediately the same Spirit bears witness, “Thou art pardoned, thon
hast redemption in his blood.” And this is saving faith, whereby the love of (tod
is shed abroad in his heart. Q, What sins are consistent with justifying faith!
A. No willful sin. If a believer willfully sins, he casts away his faith. Neither is
it possible he should have justifying faith again without previously repenting. Q
Must every believer come into a state of doubt, or fear, or darkness? A. It is ver-
tain a believer need never again come into condemnation. It seems he need not
come into a state of doubt, or fear, or darkness; and that (ordinarily, at least) he
will not, unless by ignorance or unfaithfulness. Yet it is true that the first joy does
seldom last long; that it is commonly followed by doubts and fears; and that God
creyaently permits great heaviness before any large manifestation of ‘himself. Q.
Are works necessary to the continuance of faith? A. Without doubt; for a man
Basis of the Plan of Operations. 218

 

may forfeit the free gift uf God, either by sins of omission or commission. Q,
Can faith be lost but for the want of works? A. It cannot but through disobedi-
ence. Q. How is faith made perfect by works? A. The more we exert our faith,
the more it is increased. To him that hath shall be given.

Then they took up discipline. The General Rules* were
1ead, and by the time adjournment was reached they not only
understood each other, but were of one mind and heart. The
spirit and substance of the compact made between the founder:
of Mithodism and his preachers are contained in the Rule of En-
listment into the heroic order of itinerants, adopted at this first
Conference:

Act in all things not according to your own will, but as a son in the gospel. As
such it is your part to employ your time in that manner that we direct; partly in
visiting the flock from house to house (the sick in particular); partly in such a
course of reading, meditation, and prayer as we advise from time totime. Above
all, if you labor with us in our Lord’s vineyard, it is needful you should do that
part of the work which we direct at those times and places which we judge most
‘for his glory.

The proceedings indicate that Methodism began not in a theo-
retical but in an experimental faith; and this was made the basis
of the plan of operations. Religion itself was the inspiring spirit
of orler. The inward and divine life created the external econ-
omy, and not the economy the life. Experimental piety was the
first in order, and discipline the second. Five days thus spent
must have had a happy effect on the minds of such men. Wes-
ley said of them: “They desire nothing but to save their own
souls, and those that hear them.”

The next Conference met at Bristol, with fewer “clergy” and
more “ preachers.” ‘“ We had our second Conference,” says Wes-
ley, “with as many of the brethren who labor in the word as
could be present.” On this occasion the theological doctrines
mooted at the first Conference were carefully reviewed; the opin-
ions then given, and the forms of expression in which they were
conveyed, were now very carefully scrutinized, and in some cases
modified. The fidelity of the preachers also, in respect of the

 

*“The Nature, Design, and General Rules of the United Societies. in London,
Bristol, Kingswood, and Newcastle-upon-Tyne. Price one penny.” 12 pages,
This, the first edition of the “Rules,” is signed by John Wesley only, and bears
date of February 28, 1748. A second edition was issued, signed by both John and
Charles Wesley, dated May 1, 1743. (Tyerman.)

1 This has been called sacramentum ttinerarium, and is the same now as then.

N
214 History of Methodism.

 

rules that had been laid down, was considered, and suitable ad-
monitions were administered. In regard to the suggestion that
the Methodists might ultimately become a distinct sect, when
their clerical leaders were no more, these servants of God de-
clare: “We cannot with a safe conscience neglect the present
opportunity of saving souls while we live, for fear of conse-
quences which may possibly or probably happen after we are
dead;” assuming that the salvation of souls is of greater im.
portance than the maintenance of any system of ecclesiastical
order whatever.

At the third Conference (1746) the call and the qualification to
preach were carefully considered and defined; and this important
item of Methodist economy was then determined as we now have
it, in answer to the question, “‘ How shall we try those who think
they are moved by the Holy Ghost and called of God to preach?”
At this Conference, also, the circuits were mapped out and first
published—seven in number.

From the germ-cell of the class-meeting up to the Annual Con-
ference, the ecclesiastical economy has been evolved, and the
organic structure is complete. The first provides for the recep-
tion and supervision of members, the last for the reception and
supervision of ministers.

At an early day the question was asked: “Can there be any
such thing as a general union of our Societies throughout En-
gland?” It was proposed to regard the Society in London as
the mother Church; and for every assistant in country circuits
to inquire particularly into the state of his circuit, and send such
inform.tion to the stewards of the London Circuit, who would
settle a regular correspondence with all the Societies. It was also
proposed that a yearly collection be established, out of which
any pressing Society debts might be discharged, and any Society
suffering persecution, or in real distress, might be relieved. ‘The
necessity and utility of bringing into vigorous operation the ecn-
nectional principle appears to have been suggested to the mind
of Wesley; and contemplating its effects, he exultingly says:
“Being thus united in one body, of which Christ Jesus is the
Head, neither the world nor the devil will be able to separate us
in time or in eternity.”” In the Annual Conference this bond of
union was found. To it reports were made, from it rules and
regulations emanated. Not only the esprit de corps of the preach-
Development of Methodist Economy. 216

 

ers was fostered, but their orthodoxy and pastoral fidelity were
looked after. No doctrinal test was required for membership. If
one desired “to flee from the wrath to come, and to be saved from
his sins,’ he met the condition for entrance, and by keeping cer-
tain rules he met the condition of continuance; and it may be
safely asserted that no awakened soul following those rules will
fail of coming to gospel light and liberty. The members might
be Arminian or Calvinistic, they might favor Dissent or affect the
Establishment—no question on those points was raised in the
elass-meeting or love-feast; the one thing was to help sinners to
conversion and Christians to holiness. It was very different,
however, in the case of preachers—they were held closely to a
doctrinal as well as an experimental standard. In the beginning
of Methodism, the evil of dissentient if not heretical teachers
was seen—clashing, and confusion, and contradiction. There-
fore, one of the most important functions of the Annual Confer-
ence is to see that the trumpet gives no uncertain sound. It
began by inquiring what to teach, and it inquires, year after
year, if the doctrine accepted is taught. Hence, such items as
these occur in the early Minutes: “Q. Can we unite, if it be de-
sirable, with Mr. Ingham? A. We may now behave to him with
all tenderness and love, and unite with him when he returns to
the old Methodist doctrine. Q. Predestinarian preachers have
done much harm among us; how may this be prevented for the
future? A. Let none of them preach any more in our Societies.
Q. Do any among us preach Antinomianism? A. We trust not.”
Whereupon a wholesome tract upon that subject was read and
duly commented on in open Conference.

By and by we see the Conference providing for the support of
preachers and their families, for the superannuated, for educa-
tion, for missions, for book and tract distribution, and, in a word,
guiding affairs with united wisdom. This final development of
Methodist economy— destined to be repeated throughout all
lands, and to be the most potent of assemblies—having been
reached, henceforth we are to witness only such changes as
growth makes in the spiritual body.
CHAPTER XVII.

Methodism in Jreland—Friendly Clergy—Hymn-making—Marriage of Charles
Wesley—Education—Kingswood School—Theological and Biblical: Using the
Press—-Making and Selling Books—Marriage of John Wesley.

NEW field was entered about 1747. Ireland was then em-
inently a land of popery. Hearing that a Methodist Soci-
ety had been formed in Dublin, John Wesley crossed the Irish
Channel, and spent a few weeks in that city, preaching, exam-
ining the classes, and strengthening the Society. On his re-
turn Charles took his place in Ireland, and speut six months
there, preaching with great power in many places. He was sur-
prised at the kindness of his reception, at the absence of perse-
cution. But so soon as the word began to take effect, so soon as
the great door and effectual was open, the adversaries appeared.
Nor was there any lack of them afterward. Instead of rotten eggs
at long range, clubs were used, and many a scar and deep wound
was received. This entry occurs in his journal in October: “I
opened our new house at Dolphin’s-barn, by preaching to a great
multitude within and without. After preaching five times to-day,
I was as fresh as in the morning.” Something more civil than
popish shillalahs occurred at Cork—a presentment by the grand
jury: “ We find and present,” say they, “Charles Wesley to be
a person of ill fame, a vagabond, and a common disturber of His
Majesty’s peace, and we pray he may be transported.” They
made the same presentment with respect to seven other Method-
ist preachers, most of whose names they misspelled. Well
might John Wesley pronounce this “memorable presentment ”
“ worthy to be preserved in the annals of Ireland for all succeed-
iug generations.” Charles was in London when these enlight-
ened Hibernians gave judgment concerning his character and
declared him worthy of a felon’s doom. He wrote a hymn of
triumph on the occasion.

John Wesley often visited Ireland, to the end of his life.
Forty-two times he crossed the Irish Channel, and spent, in his
different visits, at least half a dozen years of his laborious life

among that people. There were difficulties. but success had a
(216)

/
Wesley and his Co-workers in Ireland. 217

 

peculiar charm, and true piety an apostolic flavor, in that land.
To his long and frequent absences the leaders in London object-
ed; but Wesley’s prophetic answer was: “Have patience, and
Ireland will repay you.” An efficient native ministry was raised
up; a distinct, though not an independent, religious connection
was formed; so that the Irish Methodists had their own Annual
Conference, became a distinguished part of the Wesleyan body,
and have had the gratification of presenting to the Wesleyan
itinerancy some of its most able and useful ministers. Among
these may be mentioned Thomas Walsh, Henry Moore, William
Myles, Walter Griffith, Gideon Ousley, and Adam Clarke, to say
nothing of those who are now serving their generation, by the
will of God, both at home and in the wide field of missions.
American Methodism is indebted for some of its best ministers
and members to the Emerald Isle. Strawbridge, Embury, and
Drumgoole were only the first installment of spiritual wealth
drawn from that source. In Ireland some of the richest tro-
phies of Methodism were won, and there some of its rarest in-
cidents occurred. ‘“Swaddlers” the witty sinners dubbed the
new sect. Cennick was preaching in Dublin on a Christmas-
day. His text was Luke ii. 12: “Ye shall find the babe wrapped
in swaddling-clothes, and lying ina manger.” A drunken fellow,
who was listening at the door to pick up something by which he
might ridicule this new religion, hearing the word “swaddling”
often repeated, ran along the street exclaiming, “O these people
are swaddlers, they are swaddlers!” The name quickly took,
and became the badge of opprobrium through Ireland. Even
the eloquence of Whitefield could not charm the rioters. Once
he was near being killed outright. “I received many blows and
wounds—-one was particularly large and near my temples. I
thought of Stephen, and was in hopes, like him, to go off in this
bloody triumph to the immediate presence of my Master.” He
used to say, in speaking of this event, that in England, Scotland,
and America he had been treated only as a common minister of
the gospel, but that in Ireland he had been elevated to the rank
of an apostle, in having had the honor of being stoned. In his
American tours he often entertained friends with a history of
narrow escapes from the mobs while preaching in the old
country. A Virginia lady, who died at a great age, used to tell
how he would eatch her on his lap, saying: “Come here, my lit-
218 History of Methodism.

 

tle girl,” raising his wig and taking her hand, “here, put your
finger in that gash—there is where the brickbat hit me.”

At the Annual Conferences from time to time a few clergymen
are seen. Wesley sought their codperation as a body with small
success. On his fingers he might have counted those of the Es-
tablished Church who helped him to inaugurate the religious
revival. Of Meriton little is known. He was in Cornwall once
when Charles Wesley was preaching “against harmless diver-
sions,” having three clergymen among his auditors. “By harm-
less diversions,” exclaimed the preacher, “J was kept asleep in
the devil’s arms, secure in a state of damnation for eighteen
years!” No sooner were the words uttered than Meriton added
aloud, “And I for twenty-five!” “And I,” cried Thompson,“ for
thirty-five!” “And I,” said Bennett, the venerable minister of
the church, “for about seventy!” Hodges was the rector of
Wenvo, in South Wales, and his heart and pulpit were always
open to the Wesleys whenever they visited the principality. The
brothers often mention him in their journals, and always with
respect and affection. He stood by them when they preached in
the open air, and cheerfully bore a share in their reproach.
Henry Piers, the vicar of Bexley, and his excellent wife, were
both brought to the knowledge of the truth through the instru-
mentality of Charles Wesley, and were cordially attached both
to him and his brother. Some of John’s early publications were
written in Piers’s house, to which he retired as a quiet asylum
from his public toils. Samuel Taylor was descended from the
celebrated Dr. Rowland Taylor, who was forcibly ejected from
his church in “bloody Mary’s” reign; whom Bonner was about
to strike with his crosier, and was only hindered by Taylor tell-
ing him he would strike back. He was vicar of Quinton in
Gloucestershire, and, like Wesley, went out into the highways
and hedges, and was a sharer inthe brutal persecutions of
Wednesbury, and other places. The parents of Richard What-
eoat, one of the first American bishops, belonged to Taylor’s
parish; and Richard, when a child, sat under his ministry.

In time Grimshaw, incumbent of Haworth, came on. He was
converted through the labors of a Methodist, and so helped and
codperated with the intinerant preachers in his part of the coun-
try that they were called “‘Grimshaw’s preachers.” He visited
the classes frequently, attended and preached at the quarterly-
Some of the Clergy who Helped. 219

 

meetings, and held love-feasts in the Societies. He maintained
intimacy with the preachers, entertained them at his house, and
built a chapel and dwelling-house for them at his own expense.
The landlord at Colne complained that Grimshaw had preached
in that town “damnation beyond all sense and reason,” and that
“every week, and almost every day, he preached in barns and
private houses, and was a great encourager of conventicles.” On
account of his preaching excursions through his parish and be-
yond it, and his outdoor, off-hand talking and praying, he was
reported to his bishop by the clergy; but his lordship had too
much policy or piety to deal hardly with the good man. Grim-
shaw afterward observed to a party of friends: “I did expect to
be turned out of my parish on this occasion, but if I had, I would
have joined my friend Wesley, taken my saddle-bags, and gone to
one of his poorest circuits.” Four hamlets were comprised in
his parish. He preached in these villages monthly, in order to
reach the aged and infirm. Frequently he would preach before
the doors of such as neglected the parish worship: “If you will
not come to hear me at the church, you shall hear me at home; if
you perish, you shall perish with the sound of the gospel in your
ears.” Vincent Perronet was vicar of Shoreham, in the county of
Kent. He entered fully into those views of divine truth which the
Wesleys inculcated, and became a spiritual and holy man. Two
of his sons became itinerant preachers; he wrote various tracts in
defense of the Wesleyan tenets; to him Wesley’s “Plain Account
of the People called Methodists” was originally addressed; and
to the end of life he was the cordial friend and the wise adviser
of John and Charles Wesley, under all their cares.

The old Methodists were remarkable for their singing. “Hap-
py people love tosing.” Naturally, the two brothers were full of
poetry; and religion fanned the fire into a holy flame. Their
taste in music may be gathered from Wesley’s directions to the
preachers: “Suit the tune to the words. Avoid complex tunes,
which it is scarcely possible to sing with devotion. Repeating
the same words so often, especially while another repeats differ-
ent words, shocks all common sense, necessarily brings in dead
formality, and has no more religion in 1t than a Lancashire horn-
pipe.” On one cecesion he writes: “I was greatly disgusted at
the manner of singing. Twelve or fourteen persons kept it to
themselves, and quite shut out the congregation.” It has been
220 History of Methodism.

 

estimated that during his life-time there were published no fewer
than six thousand six hundred hymns from the pen of Charles
Wesley only. While he was preaching two and three times a
day, during the intervals of public worship he was engaged in
the composition of hymns. When on his way from Bristol to
Newcastle, says he: “Near Ripley, my horse threw and fell
upon me. My companion thought I had broken my neck; but
iny leg only was bruised, my hand sprained, and my head stunned
—which spoiled my making hymns, or thinking at all, till the
next day.” He wrote that animated hymn beginning,

See how great a flame aspires,

Kindled by a spark of grace,

on the joyful occasion of his ministerial success, and that of his
fellow-laborers, in Newcastle and its vicinity. The imagery,
doubtless, was suggested by the large fires connected with the
collieries, which illuminate the whole of that part of the country
at night.

At Cardiff he writes: “ My subject was wrestling Jacob. Some
whole sinners were offended at the sick and wounded, who cried
out for a physician. But such offenses must needs come.” After
preaching on the same topic at Gwennap Gap, that grand am-
phitheater for field-preachers in Wales, and at the New Room
in Bristol, and elsewhere, and being thoroughly saturated with
the theme, he composed the hymn,

Come, O thou Traveler unknown,
Whom still I hold, but cannot see.

The venerable Dr. Watts, then rich in years and honors, was
too generous and pious to regard with envy the gifts conferred
upon Charles Wesley. “Wrestling Jacob” is said to have espe-
cially arrested his attention; and, with a magnanimity worthy of
his character, he exclaimed, “That single poem is worth all the
verses I have ever written!”

At forty years of age Charles Wesley was married. Marma-
duke Gwynne, of Garth, Wales, was one of Howell Harris’s
converts. His wife was one of six heiresses, inheriting each
£30,000. Their mansion, with its twenty domestics and private
chapel and chaplain, and nine children, would hardly be selected
as the place for training the wife who first graced the itinerancy.
“T expressed the various searchings of my heart in many hymns
Marriage of Charles Wesley. 221

 

on the important occasion,” says Charles. Seventeen hymns,
which he wrote at this time, on the subject of his marriage, have
been preserved in his neat handwriting. Preliminaries being
concluded to the satisfaction of all parties, Wesley’s journal tells
the rest (April 8, 1749): “I married my brother and Sarah
Gwynne. It was a solemn day, such as became the dignity of a
Christian marriage.” Charles’s account is characteristic:

Not a cioud was to be seen from morning till night. I rose at four; spent thee
hours and a half in prayer, or singing, with my brother. At eight I led my Sally
to church. My brother joined our hands. Jt was a most solemn season of love.
I never had more of the Divine presence at the sacrament. My brother gave out
ahymn. He then prayed over us in strong faith. We walked back to the house,
and joined again in prayer. Prayer and thanksgiving was our whole employment.
We were cheerful, without mirth; serious, without sadness. A stranger that in-
termeddleth not with our joy said it looked more like a funeral than a wedding.
My brother seemed the happiest person among us.

Perhaps there was never a happier marriage. Small in per-
son, cultivated in mind and manners, a sweet singer, she ac-
companied her husband in many of his long and rapid journeys,
bearing with cheerfulness the inconveniences of an itinerant life,
and also the scorn and violence of profane men, when he preached
to them in the fields, highways, and other places of public resort.
As she was greatly admired by him, he expressed a satisfaction
perfectly natural in saying, “All look upon my Sally with my
eyes.” She went with him to Bristol, Bath, London, and several
other towns, and was everywhere treated with the utmost respect
as the amiable wife of one of the most useful men. According
to the style of that age, she usually rode behind him on horse-
back, meeting with adventures which she was accustomed to re-
late pleasantly to the end of her very protracted life.

Soon after his marriage, Charles Wesley rented a small house
in Bristol, and on the first of September he and his wife
took possession of it, and commenced housekeeping. Referring
to its dimensions, he remarks it was “such a one as suited a
stranger and pilgrim upon earth.” Mrs. Wesley adapted herself
readily to her altered circumstances, on leaving the ample man-
sion of Garth, and taking up her residence in a humble cottage.
She wrote with her own hand, in a manner the most neat and
elegant, an inventory of the furniture with which they were pro-
vided. This document has been preserved among the family
records—proof of her care and economy and of the limited scale
222 History of Methodism.

 

of their establishment. There they were accustomed to accom-
modate the itinerant preachers. John Nelson, John Downes,
William Shent, and other men of kindred spirit and habits, were
among their frequent guests. To the end of her life she used
to speak of them with considerable emotion, remarking that she
never met with persons better behaved, or more agreeable in their
spirit and manners. Divine grace supplied the fictitious aid of
education and social culture.

The death of their first-born, when only a few years old, by
small-pox, was closely connected with the dangerous illness of
Mrs. Wesley from the same disease. After her recovery, her
features were so completely changed that the most intimate
friends could not recognize her countenance. Her husband
showed the tenderness and strength of his affection by declaring
that he admired her more than ever. She was about twenty years
younger than himself; and now that she had lost her beauty, she
had also lost her very youthful appearance; so that the unseemly
disparity between their ages was no longer perceptible.

Following his rule, “We would not make haste— we desire
barely to follow Providence, as it gradually opens,” Wesley be-
gan to provide for the education of the children of his preach-
ers, and for Christian education generally. He “enlarged” the
existing school at Kingswood, an unknown lady giving him £800
toward defraying the expenses. The school for the children of
the colliers was not closed. It continued to exist more than sixty
years. But in 1748 another school, for another class of children,
was attached to this, and really became the Kingswood School,
so famed in Methodist annals—for above half a century Meth-
odism’s only college; one of Wesley’s favorite haunts; the alma
mater of scores who did great service in Church and State; a
homestead in which Methodism lingered till 1852. The visitor
of to-day finds there a reformatory for vicious youth. Wesleyan
pupils have been drawn away to ampler accommodations and more
convenient localities at Bath, and Birmingham, and London.

Some of Wesley’s rules for Kingswood could have been made
only by a man who had no boys and never had been a boy himself.
His half dozen teachers, his housekeepers, his servants, and his
pupils, with their parents, were a load tocarry. “I wonder,” he
says, “how I am withheld from dropping the whole design; so
many difficulties have continually attended it.” But success was
Education—Use of the Press—Wesley’s Books. 223

 

: finally achieved; education by the Church was put on the right
basis; and the Wesleyan educational systems, in both hemi-
spheres, are the fruit of that handful of corn, waving like Lebanon.

Among the questions asked at the first Conference, and an-
swered apparently without any dissent, was this: “Can we have
a seminary for laborers?” They were not yet ready; the an-
swer was, “If God spare us till another Conference.” Accord-
ingly, at the next session it was asked, “Can we have a seminary
for laborers yet?” “Not till God gives us a proper tutor,” was
the reply.. It was easy to get teachers for Kingswood School;
but to teach the teachers, to train the laborers, required peculiar
moral and mental fitness. Money, though scarce, was more plenti-
fulthan such men. The question was a standing one, and by and
by proper tutors were raised up among themselves—men who
not only knew the doctrines but the economy of Methodism—
trained in it and devoted to it. Some of the ablest were detailed
to this service, and the well-endowed biblical and theological
schools of England and America are the answer to Wesley’s
question a hundred and forty years ago.

The Foundry provided a room for the publication and sale of
books. This original book-room was a permanent feature. The
Conference early ordained that every circuit was to be supplied
with books by the Assistant. A return was to be made quarterly
of money for books from each Society, and thus began that or-
ganized system of book and tract distribution which has secured
to Methodism an extensive use of the religious press.

One of the most successful means adopted by the Wesleys for
promoting religion was the publication, in a cheap and popular
form, of interesting and instructive books. Before he went to
Georgia, John Wesley published a single sermon, besides a revised
edition of Kempis’s “ Christian Pattern.” Later, he entered upon
a course of literary labor of the most gigantic kind, in connec-
tion with his traveling, preaching, and pastoral care. Atan early
period he sent forth three volumes of sermons, explaining the
leading doctrines which he had beer. accustomed to preach. In
providing cheap literature, he articipated modern times by many
years; and in this kind of service he labored almost alone for
nearly half a century. Moral and sacred poetry he recommend.
ed, and published selections of this kind in three volumes; and
portable editions of Milton and Young, with notes explaining
224 History of Methodism.

 

the difficult passages, and directing attention to the finest para-

graphs. He published, in a quarto volume, an amended trans-

lation of the New Testament, with explanatory notes, remarkable

for spirituality, terseness, and point.” A similar work, but less

original and much less successful, he published on the Old Testa-
‘ment in three quarto volumes.

Most of Wesley’s publications were small and cheap; but they
had an immense circulation, and not only paid expenses, but left
a protit. In a sermon, written in the year 1780, he apologetically
.emarks: “Two and forty years ago, having a desire to furnish
poor people with cheaper, shorter, and plainer books than any
I had seen, I wrote many small tracts, generally a penny apiece;
and afterward several larger. Some of these had such a sale
as I never thought of, and, by this means, I unawares became
rich But JI never desired or endeavored after it. And now that
it is come upon me unawares, I lay up no treasures upon earth;
I lay up nothing at all. I cannot help leaving my books behind
me whenever God calls me hence; but, in every other respect,
my own hands will be my executors.” Such was Wesley’s char-
itable use of this source of income that it is estimated he gave
away in the course of his life more than a hundred and fifty
thousand dollars. In his “Appeal to Men of Reason and Relig-
ion,” he said: “Hear ye this, all you who have discovered the
‘treasures which I am to leave behind me: If I leave behind me
ten pounds (above my debts and my books, or what may happen
to be due on the account of them), you and all mankind bear
witness against me that I have died a thief and a robber.” The
state of his affairs at his death justified this pledge.

The son, if not wiser, was more practical than the father.
Compare Dissertationes in Librum Jobi—that six hundred page
folio, in Latin, which not one man in a million has read—with the
series issued by the founder of Methodism called “A Christian
Library,” consisting of extracts and abridgments of the choicest
pieces of practical divinity which have been published in the
English tongue, in fifty volumes. This work was begun in 1749,
and completed in 1755. Folios and quartos had to be reduced
to 12mo volumes. Some were abridged on horseback, and others
at way-side inns and houses where Wesley tarried for a night.
Such an enterprise had never before been attempted. It was an
sffort to make the masses—his own Societies in particular—ae-
Grace Murray. 225

 

quainted with the noblest men of the Christian ages. His
design was to leave out whatever might be deemed objection-
able in sentiment, and superfluous in language; to divest prac-
tical theology of technicalities and unnecessary digressions;
and to separate evangelical truth from Pelagian and Calvinistic
error.

Independently of his own works, which occupy fourteen large
ovtavo volumes, John Wesley abridged, revised, and printed no
fewer than one hundred and seventeen distinct publications,
reckoning his “ Christian Library,” his histories, and his philoso-
phy, as only one each; and the brothers, separately and unitedly,
published near eighty poetical tracts and volumes, most of which
were the compositions of Charles Wesley, and adapted to the
use of public, domestic, and private devotion.*

Charles Wesley’s happy marriage appears to have been the
means of deepening his brother’s conviction that it is not good
for man to be alone, and of inducing him to form the resolution
of entering into the same state. The object of his choice was a
widow, Grace Murray. She was among the first converts at the
Foundry, but being a native of Newcastle, Wesley had employed
her there to superintend the orphan-house and regulate the
female classes. Her ability to be useful and her zeal recom-
mended her to wider services. Of very humble origin, she is
described as “possessed of superior personal accomplishments,
with a mind cultivated by education, and an imagination lively
in a high degree.” Wesley used to call her his right-hand. He
proposed marriage to her. She declared her readiness to ac-
company him to the ends of the earth, and confessed that the
honor of being thus allied to him was a distinction for which she
had not dared to hope. But he was busy going far and wide,
and delays happened and hinderances. Many in the Societies of
London and Bristol disapproved. Grace Murray was not equa.
to such a queenly position, in their opinion. The preachers, not
knowing how much Wesley’s heart was in the matter, interfered.
They thought such a marriage would be a mésalliance—calculated
to injure their leader’s influence with the general public—likely
to give an advantage to his enemies, would create disaffection, and
circumscribe his labors; and so Charles, with the connivance of
Whitefield and others, brought about a hasty marriage of Grace

 

* Jackson’s Life of C. Wesley and his Centenary volume.
15
226 History of Methodism.

 

Murray with John Bennett—one of Wesley’s itinerants. They
crushed the feelings of the man, in order to maintain the dignity
and usefulness of the minister. How deeply they wounded him
they realized when it was too late. Perceiving Wesley’s trouble,
Whitefield wept and prayed over him, and did all he could to
comfort him. The two brothers fell on each other’s necks in
tears. Wesley writes (Oct., 1749):

The sons of Zeruiah were too hard for me. The whole world fought agains
me; but above all, my own familiar friend. Then was the word fulfilled: “Scn
of man, behold! I take from thee the desire of thine eyes at a stroke; yet shal!
thou not lament, neither shall thy tears run down.” The fatal, irrecoverable
stroke was struck on Tuesday last. Yesterday I saw my friend (that was), and
him to whom she is sacrificed. . . But “why should a living man complain?”

He had this interview with Grace Bennett three days after her
marriage. For thirty-nine years they never met again: the meet-
ing then was soon over; and he was never heard to mention her
name afterward.

Bennett soon became an Independent minister—embraced Cal-
vinism—abused “Pope John,” and after ten years died. One
of his sons became the pastor of a congregation near Moor-
fields. His widow returned to the Methodists, was useful as a
leader of classes, and died at an advanced age.*

For nothing was John Wesley more remarkable than the for-
giveness of injuries, especially when he saw in the offender signs
of regret. Charles knew that he had no gift of government, and
supposed that his brother’s marriage would be followed, as his
own had been, by narrowing his itinerant field; and then the So-
cieties would rapidly drift into Independency, and the revival
movement cease.

Wesley’s next matrimonial movement precluded any inter-
ference. On February 2, 1751, Charles’s journal has this item:
“My brother sent for me and told me he was resolved to mar.
ry. I was thunderstruck, and could only answer, he had given
me the first blow, and his marriage would come like the coup «de

 

*This was the cruelest stroke of Wesley’s mortal life. After his death verses
were found which he wrote to ease his heart. The first of twenty-eight we give:

O Lord, I bow my sinful head!
Righteous are all thy ways with man
Yet suffer me with thee to plead,
With lowly rev’rence to complain;
With deep, unutter’d grief to groan,
0 what is this that thou hast done?”
Marriage of John Wesley. 227

 

grace. Trusty Ned Perronet followed, and told me the person
was Mrs. Vazeille; one of whom I had never had the least sus-
picion.” A fortnight later the London papers published the mar-
tiage of the Rev. John Wesley to a merchant's widow of large
fortune. The large fortune consisted of £10,000 invested in
three per cent. consols, and was wholly secured to herself and
her two children. The general opinion at first was that she
was ‘well qualified for her new position; she appeared to
be truly pious, and was very agreeable in her person and man-
ners.” She understood that he was not to abate his itinerant
labor; nor did he abate it. Two months after the marriage, with
asly hint at Charles possibly, Wesley wrote in his journal: “ Ican-
not understand how a Methodist preacher can answer it to God to
preach one sermon or travel one day less in a married than in a
single state. In this respect surely ‘it remaineth that they who
have wives be as though they had none.’”

His wife traveled with him for some time, but soon grew dissat-
isfied with a life so incompatible with the convenience of her sex
and the habits of her former life. Irritation came to be her
chronic state, and when her mind was irritated, nothing could
please her. The weather was either intolerably cold or hot; the
roads were bad, the means of conveyance unbearable; the peo-
ple by whom they were accommodated impolite; the provisions
were scanty or ill prepared; and the beds were hard. Her hus-
band’s official duties— preaching, meeting classes, visiting
the sick, regulating the Societies, carrying on an extensive
correspondence, and writing constantly for the press—occupied
so much of his time that he could not pay her all the attention
she required. Unwilling to travel herself, she became equally
dissatisfied with his habitual absence. At last her discontent
took the form of a monomaniacal jealousy. She would drive a
hundred miles to observe out of a window who was in the car-
riage with her husband on his entering a town. At first her
complaints were carried to Charles, but soon even he and his
wife became objects of bitter hostility, so that her language to
them was scarcely less severe than that applied to her hapless
husband. Charles generally called her “My best friend,” for
no other person told him of his faults with half the vehemence
and particularity which characterized her rebukes and admoni-
tions. This significant sentence occurs in a letter to his wife:
228 History of Methodism.

 

“JT called, two minutes before preaching, on Mrs. Wesley, at the
Foundry; and in all that time had not one quarrel.”

The gravest feature of the business was her opening Wesley’s
letters, intercepting and interpolating them; giving some to his
enemies, and publishing others in the public prints. In 1771
she left his house, with the assurance that she would never re-
turn. He knew not, he says, the immediate cause of her deter.
mination, and adds: “ Non eam reliqui, non dimissi, non revocabo''
—I did not forsake her, I did not dismiss her, I will not recall]
her. There was a patched-up peace, with various intermissions,
and she died ten years afterward. With her children, Wesley’s
relations were affectionate and pleasant. Southey says of the
Xantippe, who tormented him in such a manner by her out-
rageous jealousy and abominable temper, that she deserves to be
classed in a triad with the wife of Socrates, and the wife of Job,
“as one of the three bad wives.”

Berridge, the quaint bachelor vicar of Everton—one of the
evangelical clergy whose itinerant zeal was largely useful in
founding Lady Huntingdon’s Connection—wrote to the Countess
concerning one of her preachers: “No trap so mischievous to thie
field-preacher as wedlock, and it is laid for him at every hedge-
corner. Matrimony has quite maimed poor Charles, and might
have spoiled John and George if a wise Master had not gri-
ciously sent them a brace of ferrets.”

If it was not for Wesley to enjoy the comforts of married life,
he had the opportunity to exhibit patience. During a domestic
wretchedness of thirty years, he kept on his way of duty, unwar-
ering; abated nothing of consecration; and, withal, an unrufiled
temper seems to have been joined to an unflagging energy. Hen-
ry Moore, his biographer and intimate friend, records: “He
repeatedly told me that he believed the Lord overruled this pain.
ful business for his good; and that if Mrs. Wesley had been a
better wife he might have been unfaithful in the great work to
which God had called him, and might have too much sought to
please her according to her own views.”
CHAPTER XVIII.

Temporary. Decay of Whitefield’s Popularity; Visits Scotland; Third Visit tc
America—Morris’s Reading-house in Virginia—Samuel Davies—Commissary
at Charleston tries to Suspend—No Intolerance in that Colony—South Carolina
Unfavorable for this—Whitefield Buys a Plantation; Preaching to Negroes;
Chaplain to Countess of Huntingdon; Among the Great.

HITEFIELD’S situation on his second return to England

was not comfortable. The separation from the Wesleys
was not all. His popularity seemed to have passed away; the
thousands who used to assemble at his preaching had dwindled
down to two or three hundred. Worldly anxieties were fretting
him, and those of a kind which made the loss of his celebrity a se-
rious evil. The Orphan-house was to be maintained; he had now
nearly a hundred persons in that establishment who were to be
supported by his exertions; he was above £1,000 in debt on that
score, and he himself not worth £20. Seward, the wealthiest
and most attached of his followers was dead, and had made no
provision for the payment of a heavy bill on the Orphan-house
account, which he had drawn, and for which Whitefield was now
responsible, and threatened with arrest. He called it a trying
time. “Many, very many of my spiritual children,” says he,
“who at my last departure from England would have plucked
out their own eyes for me, are so prejudiced by the dear Messrs.
Wesleys dressing up the doctrine of election in such horrible
colors, that they will neither hear, see, nor give me the least as-
sistance.” But his popularity soon returned; there was no re-
sisting the charm of his eloquence, and no denying the genuine-
ness of his religion. Yielding to many invitations, he visited
Scotland, where the Whitefieldian type of Methodism was more
acceptable than the Wesleyan. His success in Scotland was, in
some respects, greater than it had been in England. “Glory be
to God,” he writes, “he is doing great things here. I walk in
the continual sunshine of his countenance. Congregations con-
sist of many thousands. Never did I see so many Bibles, nor
people look into them with such attention when I am expound-

ing. Plenty of tears flow from the hearers’ eyes. I preach
oO (299)
230 History of Methodism.

twice daily, and expound at private houses at night, and am em-
ployed in speaking to souls under distress great part of the day.
Every morning I have a constant levee of wounded souls, many
of whom are quite slain by the law.” In the great city churches,
and on braes and hill-sides, and in public parks, Whitefield had
wonderful scenes—“ equal to some in America.”

The partisans of the Solemn League and Covenant hardly en-
dured the fact that he had not signed that formula, but they
charitably considered that he had been born and bred in En-
gland, and knew no better. He records: “The awakenings of
people have been, in a good many, attended with outcryings
faintings, and bodily distresses; in many more the work has pro-
ceeded with great calmness; but the effects in both sorts are alike
good and desirable.” One of their chief ministers says: “Never
did I see such joyous melting in a worshiping assembly. There
was nothing violent in it, or like what we may call screwing up
the passions; for it evidently appeared to be deep and hearty,
and to proceed from a higher spring.” Inquiry-meetings, and
societies for prayer and praise, increased amazingly. Preaching
and expounding several times a day, Whitefield could not meet
the eager desire of the multitude to hear the word. This is the
report of the minister at Dundee:

The Lord is a sovereign agent, and may raise up the instruments of his glory
from what Churches or places he pleases; and glorifies his grace the more when
he does it from those Societies whence and when it could be least expected.
Though Mr. Whitefield be ordained, according to his education, a minister of the
Church of England, yet we are to regard him as one whom God has raised up to
witness against the corruptions of that Church; whom God is still enlightening,
and causing to make advances toward us. He has already conformed to us, both
in doctrine and worship, and lies open to light to conform to us in other points.
He is thoroughly a Calvinist, and sound on the doctrines of free grace, on the doc-
trine of original sin, the new birth, justification by Christ, the necessity of imput-
ed righteousness, and the operations of the Holy Ghost. These he makes his great
theme, drives the point home to the conscience, and God attends it with great
power, And as God hus enlightened him gradually in these things, so he is stil]
ready to receive more light, and so soon as he gets it he is more frank in declaring
it. God, by owning him so wonderfully, is pleased to give a rebuke to our infem-
perate bigotry and party zeal, and to tell us that “neither circumcision nur un-
circumcision availeth any thing, but the new creature.”

Returning to the Tabernacle, and thence ranging about in En-
gland for awhile, Whitefield again visited Scotland, where the
aristocracy especially received and honored him and his gospel.
Whitefield’s Third Vist to America. 231

 

He received £500 on his first visit for the Orphan-house, and a
large amount on the second. On his way to London, he was stil]
further encouraged by receiving letters from America informing
him of the remarkable succcess of the gospel there, and that God
had stirred up some wealthy friends to assist his orphans in their
late extremity. His journal records this timely mercy: “The
overlasting God reward all their benefactors. I find there has
been afresh awakening among them. am informed that twelve
negroes, belonging to a planter lately converted at the Orphan-
house, are savingly brought home to Jesus Christ.”

Late in 1744 he was again in America, where he spent fou
years. Though feeble in health, beginning in the Middle States,
he took a circuit of fifteen hundred miles through the Northern
and Eastern States, preaching with the old-time power. The op-
position had organized: there were “testimonials,” personal and
official, against him, but to no purpose; the Lord was for him. In
Maryland and Virginia the people flocked “as doves to the win-
dows.” As itinerating was his delight, and America a new world
particularly pleasing, he now began to think of returning no
more to his native country. “The door for my usefulness opens
wider and wider,” he writes. “I love to range in the American
woods, and sometimes think I shall never return to England any
more.” The awakening of five or six years ago had not ceased.
As he moves on southward, his journal says:

The gentleman offered me £800 a year, only to preach among them six months,
and to travel the other six months where I would. Nothing remarkable hap-
pened during my way southward; but when I came to Virginia, I found that the
word of the Lord had run and was glorified. During my preaching at Glasgow
some persons wrote some of my extempore sermons, and printed them almost as
fast as I preached them. Some of these were carried to Virginia, and one of them
fell into the hands of Samuel Morris. He read and found benefit. He then read
them to others; they were awakened and convinced, A fire was kindled; opposi-
tion was made; other laborers were sent tor.

This account may be supplemented by a Virginia historian.
Morris, a plain, devout man, obtained from a young Scotchman
a volume of Whitefield’s sermons. He invited his neighbors to
come and hear him read them, and while he read many were
convinced of sin. Thus, while Whitefield was passing in a flame
of revival along the sea-board, an obscure brick-layer in the
woods of Hanover was reading to weeping sinners the burning
words that fell from his lips in Scotland. Had he known this.
282 History of M+thodism.

 

 

how eagerly would he have come and taught them the way of the
Lord more perfectly! Morris read to his rustic vongregation
from other books, such as “ Boston’s Fourfold State,’ and “ Lu-
ther on Galatians.” The excitement spread through the settle.
ment; his house was too small to hold the crowds that flocked ta
rhis reading, and they determined to build a house “merely for
rea ling,” for none of them had yet attempted even public prayer,
It was called ‘“ Morris’s Reading-house,” and is forever connect-
ad with the history of Presbyterianism in Virginia. Reports
went far and wide of the scenes at the “ Reading-house,” and
Morris was invited to read his good books in various places.
Thus the work extended with power through that portion of the
country where priests and people had sunk into a cold and heart-
less formality.*

Morris’s hearers and himself, having absented themselves from
church on Sundays, were called to account by the court, and
took shelter under the name of Lutherans—as they knew no
other, and Luther’s book had been useful to them. Soon a Pres-
byterian minister—Robinson—came that way, and taught them
that they were really Presbyterians, and took them nominally
under his care, and passed on; for he durst not tarry in that col-
ony. Three years afterward (1746), Governor Gooch, of the colony,
issued his proclamation forbidding, under severest penalties, the
meetings and teachings of Moravians and Methodists. “How
numerous these obnoxious dissentients may have been, or how
far His Excellency succeeded in suppressing them, we have not
the means of ascertaining.” T

The grateful people of Hanover raised a sum of money and of-
fered it to Mr. Robinson.{ He declined it; they insisted; but he
stillrefused. They found out where he would spend his last night
in the county, and gave the money to the gentleman of the house,
who privately placed it in his saddle-bags. In the morning his
seaddle-bags were handed him. Suspecting an artifice, he opened
them, and behold! the money “was in the sack’s mouth.” He
told them he would take the money not for his own use, but to be
devoted to the education of a poor young man of promise and
piety, then studying for the ministry. “As soon as he is licensed,”
said Robinson, “we will send him to visit you. You may now

 

* Bennett’s Memorials of Methodism in Virginia. + Hawks’s Narrative of the
Protestant Episcopal Church in Virginia. {Bennett’s Memorials.
Samuel Davies. 23%

 

be educating a minister for yourselves.” This young man was
Samuel Davies. He appeared in 1747, with license from the
General Court, to preach “in and about Hanover at four meet-
ing-houses.” Great was the joy of the people, and the work was
such as angels might approve. In a few years there were over
three hundred communicants, including a number of negroes,
forty of whom the young pastor had baptized on a profession of
faith. He felt a deep interest in the slaves, and embraced every
opportunity for giving them religious instruction. He says, in
1755: “The number of slaves that attend my ministry at partic-
ular times is about three hundred.” But the watchful guardi-
ans of that attenuated form of the apostolic succession which had
survived “Morris’s Reading-house,” are to be heard from. We
quote from one of their own authors:

Mr. Davies, however, did not carry on his work without encountering opposi-
tion. The officers of the government, who of course adhered to the Establish-
ment, strenuously contended that his proceedings were illegal, inasmuch as the
English Act of Toleration did not extend to Virginia. This position was denied
by the Dissenters, who claimed equal rights with their brethren at home [England],
and the matter was brought before the courts of the colony.*

The point was argued by Peyton Randolph, attorney-general,
on, one side, and by Mr. Davies on the other; and the Dissenter
gained his cause by a majority of the court. When afterward,
on the appointment of Princeton College, Mr. Davies visited
England to solicit aid for the college, he obtained from the at-
torney-general, Sir Dudley Rider, an official declaration that the
English Act of Toleration was the law of Virginia. Armed with
this opinion, on his return he resumed and enlarged his labors
in the colony, and continued them until 1759 when, on the death
of Jonathan Edwards, he was appointed President of Princeton
College. This remakable man died at the age of thirty-seven.

In North Carolina Whitefield labored, but, as he says, “ for too
short a time, and little was done.” Orphan-house troubles op-
pressed him as he drew near to Georgia. His own words are,
“At times they almost overwhelmed me.” In Charleston he al.
ways found friends, and he records:

God has put into the hearts of my South Carolina friends to contribute liber-
ally toward purchasing in this province a plantation and slaves, which I purpose

 

* Hawks s Narrative of the Protestant Episcopal Church in Virginia.
234 History of Methodism.

 

to devote to the support of Bethesda. Blessed be God! the purchase is made,
Last week I hought, at a very cheap rate, a plantation of six hundred and forty
acres of excellent land, with a good house, barn, and outhouses, and sixty acres uf
ground ready cleared, fenced, and fit for rice, corn, and every thing. that will be
necessary for provisions. One negro has been given me. Some more I purpose
to purchase this week. An overseer is put upon the plantation, and I trust a suf-
ficient quantity of provisions will be raised this year.

On his first visit to Charleston, Whitefield was cordially received
by Commissary Garden, who invited him twice into his pulpit,
and assured him that he would defend him with his life and prop-
erty; should the same arbitrary proceedings ever be commenced
against him which Mr. Wesley, his predecessor, had met with in
Georgia.* But at the time of his second visit a great offense had
occurred—the Methodists had taken to field-preaching, and White-
field led them. He entered Charleston “in a blaze of glory”
after filling a long list of outdoor and indoor appointments.
The Commissary’s fine church, St. Philip’s, was not open to him
any more. And this episcopal shadow undertook to do what the
Bishop of London and the Archbishop of Canterbury never vent-
ured upon—to suspend Whitefiela.

There was no Established Church in South Carolina, and never
had been. The proprietaries of that colony had asked John
Locke to frame the “fundamental constitution;” and he incor-
porated into it freedom to worship God; no legal preference was
given one sect over another. The document was approved in
1669, and the original copy—in the handwriting of Locke, it is:
believed—is preserved in the Charleston Library.

Another circumstance concurred to make the Commissary’s
closed doors and his wrath impotent. Admiral de Coligny
had endeavored, the century before the English settlement in
South Carolina, to establish a colony of his brother Protestants,
the Huguenots, at Port Royal and Beaufort. That emigrant
scheme failed, but the text did not. The favorite mistress of
Louis XITV., Madame de Maintenon, was heard to say, “If God
spares him, there will be onty one religion in his kingdom.” Ac-
cordingly the revocation of the Edict of Nantes was signed at

 

*All the colonies were considered as under the care of the Bishop of London;
and he was represented in each by a “commissary who supplied the office aud juris-
diction of a bishop in outlying places of the diocese.” The power was very fe
stricted. Dr. Blair, in Virginia, was the first commissary appointed for Americo:
tn 1689. He held the office fifty-three years,
Comméssary Garden Tries to Suspend Whitefield. 235

 

Fontainebleau, 1685; all churches of the Protestants were closed,
their religious worship was prohibited, and their ministers re-
yuired to leave the country in fourteen days on pain of the gal-
leys. This brought to Carolina, and especially to Charleston, a
large number of Huguenots—than whom Continental Europe
could not furnish a nobler race. Their family names may still
be recognized in the annals of Church and State, and have espe-
cially enriched Methodism—an intelligent, energetic, chivalrous,
liberty-loving people.

The existence of laws framed by John Locke, and the infiu-
ence of such principles as French Protestants represented, made
South Carolina the last place in the world for the display of petty
ecclesiastical tyranny. Not invited into St. Philip’s Church, and
refused the sacrament by the Commissary, Whitefield found plen-
ty of room and welcome in other churches, and preached to the
edification of multitudes. Whereupon he was cited to appeat
before the Commissary and four of his clergy to answer for the
offense of having “officiated as a minister in divers meeting-
houses in Charleston, in the province of South Carolina, by pray.
ing and preaching to public congregations, and at such times to
have omitted to use the form of prayer prescribed in the ‘Book
of Common Prayer.’” Whitefield took an appeal from the colo-
nial to the home ecclesiastical court. It is claimed by some that
the Court of Appeal treated the case as unworthy of notice; by
others, that Whitefield neglected to prosecute the appeal. So it
was, at the end of twelve months, Whitefield being absent in
England, Commissary Garden proceeded:

We therefore pronounce, decree, and declare that the said George Whitefield, for
his excesses and faults, ought, duly and canonically, and according to the exigence
‘of the law in that part of the premises, to be corrected and punished, and also to be
suspended from his office; and, accordingly, by these presents, we do suspend him,
the said George Whitefield; and for being so suspended we also pronounce, décree,
and declare him to be denounced, declared, and published openly and publicly in
the face of the Church.

This, in 1741. Whitefield made twelve visits after that to
South Carolina and Georgia, with increasing power and popu:
larity. Garden in Charleston would have treated him as Caus-
ton in Savannah did Wesley; but times had changed. On this
visit, Whitefield found more friends than ever, and by Carolina
help was enabled to keep Bethesda from sinking. The charter
236 History of Methodism.

 

of the Georgia Trustees would soon expire, and then he hoped,
under better government, to do more for the Orphan-house. In-
deed, he projected a classical school in connection with it, and
made a beginning before leaving for the Northern States, where
he closed his third American campaign. He says (September 11):
“We saw great things in New England. The flocking and power
that attended the word was like unto that seven yearsago. Weak
as I was, and have been, I was enabled to travel eleven hundred
miles, and preach daily.”

His strength was giving way; indeed, he was sick and under a
physician; but, according to announcement, a congregation had
met to hear asermon. This is his account:

While the doctor was preparing a medicine, feeling my pains abated, I on a
sudden cried: “Doctor, my pains are suspended; by the help of God, I will go and
preach, and then come home and die!” In my own apprehension, and in all ap-
pearance to others, I was a dying man. I preached, the people heard me as such,
The invisible realities of another world lay open to my view. Expecting to
stretch into eternity, and to be with my Master before the morning, I spoke with
peculiar energy. Such effects followed the word, I thought it was worth dying for
a thousand times. Though wonderfully comforted within, at my return home J
thought I was dying indeed. I was laid on a bed upon the ground, near the fire,
and I heard my friends say, “He is gone.” But God was pleased to order it oth-
erwise. I gradually recovered; and soon after, a poor negro woman would see me.
She came, sat down upon the ground, and looked earnestly in my face, and then
said, in broken language: “Master, you just go to heaven’s gate, but Jesus Christ
said, Get you down, you must not come here yet, but go and call some more poor
negroes.” I prayed to the Lord, that if I was to live, this might be the event.

About this time, being much troubled with stitches in his side,
he was advised to goto the Bermudas, for the recovery of his
health. He accordingly embarked, and landed there March,
1748. His daily preaching on the islands was an event in their.
religious history, and prepared the way for future missionaries
to the slaves. His own account being taken for it, he was not a
good negro-preacher, as every one acquainted with that business
will see on reading it: :

Sunday, May 1. I preached twice with power, especially in the morning, to a
yery great congregation in the meeting-house; and in the evening, having given
notice, I preached about four miles distant, in the fields, to a large company of
negroes, and a number of white people who came to hear what I had to say to
them. I believe in all there were nearly fifteen hundred people. As the sermon
was intended for the negroes, I gave the auditory warning that my discourse would
be chiefly directed to them, and that I should endeavor to imitate the exa ple of
Elijah, who, when he was about to raise the child, contracted himself to its length.
Whitefield Preaching to Negroes. 237

 

The negroes seemed very sensible and attentive. When I asked if they all did
not desire to go to heaven, one of them, with a very audible voice said, “ Yes, sir.”
This caused a little smiling; but in general every thing was carried on with great
decency; and I believe the Lord enabled me so to discourse as to touch the se
groes, and yet not to give them the least umbrage to slight their masters. If ever
a minister in preaching needs the wisdom of the serpent to be joined with the harm-
lessness of the dove, it must be when discoursing to negroes. Vouchsafe me this
favor, O God, for thy dear Son’s sake!

May 2. Upon inquiry, I found that some of the negroes did not like my preach
ing because I told them of their cursing, swearing, thieving, and lying. One or
two of the worst of them, as I was informed, went away. Some said they would
not go any more. In my conversation these two days, with some of my friends, I
was diverted much, in hearing several things that passed among the poor negroes,
since my preaching to them, One of the women, it seems, said “that if the book
I preached out of was the best book that was ever bought at London, she was sure
it had never all that in it which I spoke to the negroes.” The old man who
spoke out loud and said “Yes” when I asked them whether all the negroes would
not go to heaven, being questioned by somebody why he spoke ont so, answered
that the gentleman put the question once or twice to them, and the other fools
had not the manners to make me any answer, till at last I seemed to point at
him, and he was ashamed that nobody should answer me, and therefore he did.
Another, wondering why I said negroes had black hearts, was answered by his
Llack brother thus: “Ah, thou fool! dost thou not understand it? He meats
black with sin.”

After three months’ stay, Whitefield left. “They have loaded
me with provisions for my sea store, and in the several parishes,
by a private voluntary contribution, have raised me upward of
one hundred pounds sterling. This will pay a little of Bethes-
da’s (lebt, and enable me to make such a remittance to my dear
yoke-fellow as may keep her from being embarrassed, or too
much behdlden in my absence. Blessed be God for bringing me
out of my embarrassments by degrees!” Having transmitted to
Georgia what was given for the Orphan-house, and dreading to
go back to America in that season of heat, for fear of relapsing,
he took the opportunity of sailing for England, and reached Lon.
don in July, 1748. On Whitefield’s return, he found himself in
no very agreeable situation. His congregation at the Tabernacle
was sadly scattered, and all his household furniture had been sold
to help pay the Orphan-house debt, which yet was far fromm being
canceled.

His congregation was soon recruited, and a very unexpected
door was opened to him. The Countess of Huntingdon, before
his arrival, had ordered Howell Harris to bring him to her house
at Chelsea, as soon as he came on shore. He went, and having
238 History of Methodism.

 

preached twice, the Countess wrote to him that several of the
nobility desired to hear him, and she desired him to be one of
her chaplains. Lords Chesterfield and Bolingbroke were among
his auditors at Chelsea, the Countess having invited those persons
who stood most in need of repentance. The former compliment-
ed the preacher with his usual courtliness; the latter is said to
have been much moved by the discourse, and invited Whitefield
to visit him. Such progress did serious piety make among this
class of people that the cynical Walpole, in May following,
wrote to a friend on the Continent: “If you ever think of return-
ing to England, you must prepare yourself with Methodism.
This sect increases as fast as almost any religious nonsense ever
did. The Methodists love your big sinners, as proper subjects to
work upon; and, indeed, they have a plentiful harvest.”

This introduces us to a new chapter in Methodism; and as its
messengers pass from the negroes to the nobility, and from Moor-
field Commons to the drawing-room of peers, we shall have op-
portunity to witness their fidelity.

Whitefield visited Scotland the third time, in the autumn of
this year, and it was not his last visit. From his leaving London
to his reaching Edinburgh, he preached ninety times, to about
one hundred and forty thousand people. At Lady Huntingdon’s
he writes (October 11): “For a day or two, her ladyship has had
five clergymen under her roof. Her house is indeed a Bethel.
To us in the ministry, it looks like a college. We have the sac-
ramvent every morning, heavenly conversation all day, and preach
at night. This is to live at court, indeed.”

If true religion could by any means become fashionable, the re-
sult would put ministerial fidelity to tests as severe as any that per-
secution can invent. In Scotland the doors were open to White-
field. “Saints,” says he, “have been stirred up and edified; and
many others, I believe, are translated from darkness to light, and
from the kingdom of Satan to the kingdom of God. The good
that has been done is inexpressible. I am intimate with three
noblemen and several ladies of quality who have a great liking
for the things of God. I am now writing in an earl’s house, sur-
rounded with fine Furmrare but, glory be to free grace, my soul
is in love only with Jesus.”

Not all the doors were open. The extremists there insisted
on the divine right of presbytery as much as the extremists in
In Scotland—Divine Right of Presbytery. 234

 

England insisted on the divine right of prelacy. In the synod
of Glasgow a motion was made to prohibit or discourage ministers
from employing Whitefield. The speeches in favor of the mo-
tion made these points: He was a priest of the Church of En-
gland; he had not subscribed the Solemn League and Cove-
nant; chimerical scheme of the Orphan-house; want of evi-
dence that the money collected by him is rightly applied; as.
serting assurance of faith; and lastly, his being under a seu-
tence of suspension by Commissary Garden, from which he had
appealed to the High Court of Chancery, and made oath to pros-
ecute that appeal in a twelvemonth, and yet it was never prose-
cuted.

On the other hand, the ministers who were against the motion,
spoke in this manner: “I blush to think [said one] that any of
our brethren should befriend a proposal so contrary to that mod-
eration and catholic spirit which now is, and I hope ever will be,
the glory of our Church. I am sensible that many things in
the Church of England need reformation; but I honor her, not-
withstanding, as our sister Church. If Bishop Butler, Bishop
Sherlock, or Bishop Secker, were in Scotland, I should welcome
them to my pulpit.” \

Said another bold Scot:

Whether Mr. Whitetield’s scheme of the Orphan-house be prudent or not, it is
demonstrable it was honestly meant. The magistrates of Savannah published,
three years ago, in the Philadelphia Gazette, an affidavit that they had carefully
examined his receipts and disbursements, and found that what he had collected in
behalf of the orphans had been honestly applied; and that, besides, he had given
considerably of his own property. Lastly, with respect to the prosecution of his
appeal, Mr. Whitefield exerted himself to the utmost to get his appeal heard,
but could not prevail on the Lords Commissioners so much as once to meet on the
affair; they, no doubt, thinking of Mr. Garden’s arbitrary proceedings with the
contempt they deserved. But, say some, “Mr. Whitefield, being under a sus-
pension not yet reversed, is now no minister.” But for what was he suspended?
Why, for no other crime than omitting to use the form of prayer prescribed in
the communion-book, when officiating in a Presbyterian congregation. Ani
shall Presbyterian ministers pay any regard to a sentence which had such a foun-
dation?

The motion was lost. Whitefield went on, preaching three
and once as often as seven, times ina day. This could not last;
want of sleep and loss of appetite and general debility ensued
“T am brought now,” says he, “to the short allowance of preach
ing but once on week-days, and twice on a Sunday.” He war
240 History of Methodism.

 

not afraid of emotional religion nor ashamed of it, anywhere.
Reporting the result of a preaching excursion where “we had
not one dry meeting,” he refers to a learned dry Calvinistic friend
thus: “Had my dear Mr. Henry been there, to have seen the
simplicity of so many dear souls, I am persuaded he would have
said, Sit anima mea cum methodistis.”

Whitefield is said to have preached eighteen thousand ser.
mons during the thirty-four years of his ministry. The caleula-
tion was made from a memorandum-book in which he noted down
the times and places of his preaching. This would be something
more than ten sermons a week.

Wesley tells us that he preached about eight hundred sermons
ina year. In fifty-three years, reckoning from the time of his
return from America, this would amount to forty-two thousand
four hundred.

But the exhaustive outlay of Whitefield in delivering a ser-
mon was greater than Wesley experienced. After preaching,
both alike, instead of taking rest, were offering up prayers, in-
tercessions, with hymns and spiritual songs, in every house to
which they were invited. The history of the Church of Christ
affords few instances of men thus incessantly employing their
whole strength—as it were, every breath they drew—in the busi-
ness of their sacred vocation.
CHAPTER XIX.

Honorable Women not a Few—The Conversion of a Countess; Her Devotion to
Methodism; Espouses the Calvinistic Side; Her Work—Chapels—Trevercca
College—Dartmouth—Newton—An Archbishop Reproved—Forced out of the

‘Establishment—Her Death.

ELINA SHIRLEY, Countess of Huntingdon, was descended

) of an ancient and honorable house. Her husband, of the
house of Hastings, was the ninth Earl of Huntingdon; and his sis-
ters, Lady Betty and Lady Margaret Hastings, were women of ex-
cellence. The Countess of Huntingdon was the Lady Bountiful at
Donnington Park, and took less pleasure in the fashionable follies
of the great than in ministries of charity among her dependents
and neighbors. She frequently attended Fetter-lane Society. Her
conversion followed that of her sister-in-law, Lady Margaret, who,
spending some time at Ledstone House, a family estate in York-
shire, was induced by curiosity to hear Ingham preach. The
Methodist was invited to preach at Ledstone church, and became
a frequent visitor at the Hall. The two sisters made an open
profession of faith, and were ever bright examples of it. In 1741,
Ingham was married to Lady Margaret, twelve years his senior.
The marriage was performed at the residence of her brother in
London. The Countess assured the Wesleys of her cordial sym-
pathy with them. The first Conference, having been invited in a
body, was received at her mansion in London, and Wesley preached
on the text, “ What hath God wrought?” Piers and Hodges took
part in the service; while Maxfield, Richards, Bennett, and
Downes sat around them, recognized as genuine though unor-
dained embassadors of Christ.

That a peeress of the realm should espouse and zealously sup-
port a cause and a people everywhere spoken against, led her
husband (who seems to have treated her with highest considera-
tion) to bring about an interview with Bishop Benson, who had
been his tutor. The bishop endeavored to convince her of the
unnecessary strictness of her sentiments and conduct. In reply
she pressed him hard with scripture, as to his own responsibil-
ities; his temper was ruffled and he lamented that he had ever

16 (241)
242 History of Methodism.

 

laid hands on George Whitefield, to whom he attributed all this
trouble. “My lord,” was her reply, “mark my words: on your
dying-bed that will be one of the few ordinations you will reflect
upon with complacence.” And the event verified the prediction.
When near death, years afterward, the bishop sent ten guineas
to Whitefield, as a token of regard and veneration, and begged
an interest in his prayers.

The Lord was merciful; and through this honorable woman,
pure in life as she was exalted in character and station, the neg.
lected rich and great had an opportunity to hear the gospel. Her
house was turned into a chapel, both in London and at her
country-seats, and there the Wesleys and Whitefield, with other
evangelical clergymen—Romaine, Hervey, Hill, Shirley, Topla-
dy, Venn, Berridge, and Madan—expounded the word and ad-
ministered sacraments. Lords and ladies, dukes and duchesses,
who filled the parlors, heard faithful warnings. The Duchess of
Buckingham writes, in reply to an invitation:

I thank your ladyship for the information concerning the Methodist preach-
ers; their doctrines are most repulsive, and strongly tinctured with impertinence
and disrespect toward their superiors, in perpetually endeavoring to level all ranks,
and do away with all distinctions, It is monstrous to be told that you have 3
heart as sinful as the common wretches that crawl on the earth. This is highly

offensive and insulting, and I cannot but wonder that your ladyship should relish
any sentiments so much at variance with high rank and good breeding.*

Lady Huntingdon was left a widow, in the thirty-ninth year
ol her age, and her husband showed his confidence in her judg

 

*The author of the “Life and Times of the Countess of Huntingdon” (two vol-
umes), from which our information is derived, tells of another person in high life
who had an experience similar to “common wretches:” no other than the titled
mistress of George II. “Mr. Whitefield’s lectures to the ‘brilliant circle’ at Lady
Huntingdon’s were evidently as faithful as they were eloquent. The well-known
Countess of Suffolk found them so. Lady Rockingham prevailed on Lady Hun-
tingdon to admit this beauty to hear her chaplain; he, however, knew nothing of ,
her presence; he drew his bow at a venture, but every arrow seemed aimed at her
She just managed to sit out the service in silence, and when Mr. Whitefield retired
she flew into a violent passion, abused Lady Huntingdon to her face, and de-
noun ed the sermon as a deliberate attack on herself. In vain her sister-in-law,
Lady Betty Germain, tried to appease the beautiful fury, or to explain her mis-
take; in vain old Lady Elenor Bertie and the Duchess Dowager of Ancaster, both
relatives of Lady Suffolk, commanded her silence; she maintained that she had
been insulted. She was compelled, however, by her relatives who were present ta
apologize to Lady Huntingdon. Having done this with a bad grace, the mortified
beauty left the place to return no more.”
The Countess of Huntingdon—Her Chapels. 243

 

ment by leaving the entire management of his children and their
fortunes in her hands. Conirolling her own time and large re-
sources, she now began to give the gospel to the poor. Accept-
ing the Calvinistic view, she found in Whitefield’s Methodism the
form of Christianity to which she devoted her life. Accompa-
nied by her chaplains she made tours through the kingdom, when
great congregations were gathered and preached to. She built
churches at Bath and Brighton, wherein titled and noble visitors
heard Methodist preaching, while they sought health and pleas-
ure. Hannah More piqued herself on her attachment to the
Established Church, and, by way of disproving the charge that_
she was a Methodist, wrote: “Had I been irregular, should I not
have gone sometimes, during my winter residence at Bath, to
Lady Huntingdon’s chapel, a place of great occasional resort?”

Horace Walpole heard Wesley at this Bath chapel, and his
criticism on the preacher as well as on the house is of record:
“Wondrous clever, but as evidently an actor as Garrick.” As
for the sermon: “There were parts and eloquence in it; but to-
war’ the end, he exalted his voice and acted very vulgar enthu-
siasm.” On one occasion Wesley, after preaching here, writes:
“T know not when I have seen a more serious, a more deeply at-
tentive congregation. Is it possible? Can the gospel have a
place where Satan’s throne is?” *

Walpole called the Countess “The Queen of the Methodists.”
The scholarly and pious Venn styled her better, “A star of the
first magnitude in the firmament of the Church.” This chapel
was supplied with evangelical preachers of highest ability, each
serving for a week or a month, or longer, and must more or less
have leavened the class of people who resorted to Bath. From this
pulpit the gospel sounded out through a wide region, and reached
the ears of those who seldom hear the plain-dealing messengers
of truth. Occasionally one who came for the healing waters died.
How the funeral of a Scotch earl was “improved,” Whitetield
tells: The corpse was taken to this chapel; house crowded; “three
hundred tickets given out to the nobility and gentry;” proper
hymns sung; the sermon followed; and for “five days together,”
says Whitefield, “we have been attending at this house of mourn.
ing. Surviving relations sit around the corpse, attended by thn

 

*The Life and Times of the C-“ntess of Huntingdon.
244 History of Methodism.

 

domestics and supporters, twice a day. Two sermons every day;
life and power attend the word; and I verily believe many dead
souls have been made to hear the voice of the Son of God.” At
the conclusion, the remains of Earl Buchan were shipped to
Scotland; and the historian adds, “The young Earl of Buchan
now became very conspicuous in the ranks of Methodism.”

This remarkable woman purchased theaters, halls, and dilapi-
dated chapels in London, Bristol, and Dublin, and fitted them up
for public worship. Numerous chapels were also erected by her
aid throughout England, Wales, and Ireland. She mapped out
_the land into districts, and sent out evangelists from among her
most successful adherents, to travel and to preach. She hore
the traveling expenses of an active corps of able ministers, and
kept them circulating through the kingdom. Her gifts for re-
ligious purposes exceeded $500,000. She sold her jewels to
build chapels for the poor. Her aristocratic equipage and liv-
eried servants were parted with, that she might save in order to
give. It was at Lady Huntingdon’s house that Lord Dartmouth
became acquainted with Wesley and Whitefield. His open and
earnest Methodism did much to help those who were suffering
its reproach. John Newton, because of his connection with the
Methodists, was refused ordination by the Archbishop of York,
but Lord Dartmouth prevailed on the Bishop of Lincoln to or-
dain him, and presented Newton to the vicarage of Olney. He
patronized the college in America that is named for him, and
contributed liberally to the Orphan-house in Georgia. To him
Cowper alludes in his poem on Truth:

We boast some rich ones-whom the gospel sways,
And one who wears a coronet and prays.

Newton, after giving to Wesley reasons, in his health and cir-
vumstances, which forbade him to be an itinerant preacher, adds
as the “ weightiest difficulty:” “Too many of the preachers are
very different from Mr. Grimshaw; and who would wish to live
in the fire? So that, though I love the people called Methodists,
and suffer the reproach of the world for being one myself, yet it
seems not practicable for me to join further than I do.”

The vicar of Olney was instrumental in the conversion of
Thomas Seott, a neighboring clergyman who took vows and en
tered into orders as godless a man as any in his parish. He tells
how the work began that ended in giving to the Church an edi-
Dedication of Trevecca House. 245

 

fying commentator, an industrious author, and one of the found-
ers of the Evangelical party:

In 1774 two of my parishioners, a man and his wife, lay at the point of death.
{ had heard of the circumstance, but according to my general custom, not being
sent for, I took no notice of it till one evening—the woman being dead and the
man dying—I heard that my neighbor, Mr. Newton, had been several times to
visit them. Immediately my conscience reproached me with being shamefully neg-
ligent in sitting at home within a few doors of dying persons, my general hearers,
and never going to visit them. Directly it occurred to me that whatever con-
tempt I might have for Mr. Newton’s doctrines, I must acknowledge his practice
to be more consistent with the ministerial character than my own. He must have
more zeal and love for souls than I had, or he would not have walked so far to
visit, and supply my lack for care to those who, as far as I was concerned, might
have been left to perish in their sins. This reflection affected me so much that
without delay, and very earnestly—yea, with tears—I besought the Lord to forgive
my past neglect; and I resolved thenceforth to be more attentive to this duty;
which resolution, though at first formed in ignorant dependence on my own
strength, I have, by Divine grace, been enabled hitherto to keep.

By reading “The Force of Truth,” wherein Scott details his
experience and how he was brought to Christ, Wilberforce is said
to have been converted. Wilberforce’s “ Practical View”’ is cred-
ited, in turn, with the conversion of many who gave character to
the philanthrophy and Christian enterprise of his day.

Lady Huntingdon’s chapels so increased that she was led to
provide a college for the education and training of preachers.
Trevecca House, in South Wales, an ancient castle, was procured
and fitted up, and opened for religious and literary instruction
in August, 1768. Great preparations had been made. White-
field preached the dedicatory sermon: “In all places where I
record my name, I will come unto thee and bless thee.” And
on the following Sunday he preached to thousands in the college-
court: “ Other foundation can no man Jay than that is laid, which
is Jesus Christ.” Describing the scenes of spiritual interest,
and the unction upon sermons, exhortations, sacraments, and love-
feasts, that attended the dedication, he writes: “ What we have
seen and felt at the college is unspeakable.”. The preparation
of the college not only exhausted the available means of the
Countess, but drew liberally upon her rich friends. Ladies
Chesterfield and Glenorchy, and other devout and aristocratic
persons, gave large help. John Wesley approved her plan.
John Fletcher was the first president, and one of his convertec|
colliers from Madely Woods was the first student that entere:

P
246 History of Methodism.

 

the college. Joseph Benson, the commentator subsequently, was
head master. The scheme was to admit only such young men as
were truly converted, and meant to devote themselves to God’s
service. Students were at liberty to stay three years, during
which time they were to have education and maintenance free,
and a suit of clothes once a year. Afterward they might enter
the ministry of the Established Church or any other Protestant
denomination. Indeed, she seemed to encourage rather than
discourage their taking orders in the Establishment, and exerted
her influence to procure ordination and. livings for them, think-
ing thus to spread a revival influence where it would be most
useful, and where approach by other means was slow and difficult.

Trevecca for years was the head-quarters of the Calvinistie
Methodists. It supplied their pulpits, and afforded important
ministerial contributions to the Dissenters and the Established
Church. The Countess resided there much of her time; it was
convenient for the extended work which she was sustaining, and
rhe could readily dispatch assistance from it to her many pul-
pits. Horses were kept to convey students on Saturdays to dis-
tant points, while nearer appointments were visited on foot.
Frequently they went forth on remote “rounds” preaching in
fields, barns, market-places, and private houses. The annual
“commencements” were like Methodist camp-meetings. On
one occusidh a thousand and three hundred horses of visitors and
guests were turned into a large field, besides what were stationed
in neighboring villages, and a great number of carriages. A
scaffold was erected at one end of the college-court, on which a
book-stand was placed, and thence six or seven preached succes-
sively, to attentive and lively congregations. A visitor speaks of
three hundred people breakfasting together on the premises; of
sermons, exhortations, sacraments, love-feasts, in English and
Welsh; of “many very hearty amens, and a fervent crying of
‘Glory to God!’”

Fletcher kept up his labors at Madely, and in the circuit: he
had formed around it; but he found time to superintend T're-
vecca. Benson describes his visits to the school of the prophets:

Here it was that I sa—shall I say—an angel in human flesh? I should not
war exceed the truth if I said so. Prayer, praise, love, and zeal—all ardent, ele
vated above what one would think attainable in this state of frailty--were the ele-
ments in which he continually lived. Languages, arts, sciences, granuaar, rhet
Christian Fidelity. 247

 

ori, logic, even divinity itself, as it is called, were all laid aside when he appeared
in the school-room among the students. And they seldom hearkened long before
they were all in tears, and every heart caught fire from the flame that burned in
his soul. .

Closing these addresses, Fletcher would say: “As many of you
as are athirst for the fullness of the Spirit of God follow me into
my room.” ‘Two or three hours were spent there in such pre-
vailing prayer as seemed to bring heaven down to earth. “In-
deed,” says Benson, “I frequently thought, while attending to
his heavenly discourse and divine spirit, that he was so different
from, and superior to, the generality of mankind as to look more
like Moses, or Elijah, or some prophet or apostle come again from
the dead, than a mortal man dwelling in a house of clay.”

A refreshing instance of Christian fidelity in high places is on
record. The Archbishop of Canterbury, during one winter of
fashion, had been giving balls and convivial routs at the archie-
piscopal palace.* His wife “eclipsed all the gay personages.”
The Methodist Countess, through her titled relatives, * obtained
an audience with his Grace of Canterbury,” and respectfully but
earnestly remonstrated. She was snubbed, and his Grace vio-
lently abused those whom he was pleased to brand as Methodists
and hypocrites. Lady Huntingdon then obtained an audience
with the king, through Lord Dartmouth. George the Third, if
not religious, was religiously inclined, and the archbishop soon
received an admonitory letter:

My Goop Lorp Prexate: I could not delay giving you the notification of the
grief and concern with which my heart was affected at receiving authentic infor-
mation that routs had made their way into your palace. . From the dissatisfac-
tion with which you must perceive I behold these improprieties, not to speak in
harsher terms, and on still more pious principles, I trust you will suppress them
immediately; so that I may not have. occasion to show any further marks of my
displeasure, or to interpose in a different manner. May God take your Grace into
his almighty protection! G. RB.

A large building in Londen, known as the Pantheon, which
had been erected as a place of Sunday amusements in a wicked
and very neglected district, fell into the Countess’s hands, and
was fitted up, like another Foundry, for a church. “My heart,”
she says, “is strangely set upon having this temple of folly ded-
icated to Jehovah Jesus.” Great expense was incurred, and
great preparations made, and great preachers engaged. The

 

*Dr Cornwallis was then Archbishop of Canterbury,
248 History of Methodism.

 

scheme moved off prosperously, with crowded congregations and
gracious revivals; but a catastrophe was at hand. The avari-
cious pluralist whose parish embraced the Pantheon—named
Spafield’s Chapel—put in his legal claims and pressed them.
He claimed the right of nominating ministers to its pulpit, and
of appointing a clerk whose salary should be paid by the pro-
prietors; of reading prayers and preaching and administering the
sacraments. there, whenever he wished; of receiving a stipend
(£40 per annum) for appointing such Methodist clergy as the
proprietors desired, for the chapel; that all the money collected
at the sacrament and from sittings be under the control of his
church-wardens; and, for due performance of this, that the pro-
prietors enter into a bond of £1,000.* —

The chapel authorities not yielding to his terms, Sellen insti-
tuted suit in the Spiritual Court of the Bishop of London, against
the two clergymen officiating at Spafield’s Chapel for irregularity
in preaching in a place not episcopally consecrated, and for car-
rying on divine worship there contrary to the wish of the minis-
ter of the parish. Verdicts were obtained against them, the
chapel was closed, and one of the finest congregations in Lon-
don was dispersed. As a peeress of the realm, the Countess sup-
posed she had a right to employ her own chaplains at any time
and place, and she put them.in the stead of the two suspended
ministers. But Sellen, like another Sanballat, renewed the attack
in the ecclesiastical courts against every clergyman she engaged
to preach there; and the verdict being against them, they discon-
tinued their services. Harassed and obstructed, the Countess
was obliged to take shelter under the Toleration Act. ‘In this
case,” she wrote, “I am reduced to turn the finest congregation
not only in England, but in any part of the world, into a Dissent-
ing meeting.” Lady Huntingdon and her preachers were strong-
ly attached to the Church of England; used its forms as far as
practicable in worship, and preached its doctrines, and hoped to
carry on a work of revival within its pale—if not helped, at least
not prohibited; but that hope is atan end. In creed and at heart
she and her chaplains and co-workers were not Dissenters. But
in order to protect her chapels from suppression, or appropria
tion by the Established Church, she had to avail herself, in 1779,
of the law by which all religious societies that would not be sub-

 

* The Life and Times of Lady Huntingdon.
Death of Lady Huntingdon. 249

 

ject to the established ecclesiastical power, could control their
own chapels by an avowal, direct or virtual, of Dissent. Her
“Connection” thus took its place among the Dissenting Churches,
and that brilliant and powerful band of preachers whom she had
kept circulating through the kingdom under the best advantages,
stirring spiritual stagnation and enlightening darkness, among
the high and low—Romaine, Madan, Venn, Berridge, Townsend,
and others—ceased preaching in her chapels.

When the lease upon Trevecca expired, the college was removed
nearer the metropolis, and exists to our day as Cheshunt College.
There John Harris, author of “Mammon,” and other useful and
evangelical scholars have been bred and labored.

The Countess died at the age of eighty-four, uttering with her
last breath: “ My work isdone. I have nothing to do but to go to
my Father.” She left her fortune for the support of sixty-four
chapels which she had helped to build: in various parts of the
kingdom.

The Lady Huntingdon Connection was in part absorbed by the
Dissenting Churches, and went to revive “the languishing Non-
conformity of the age;” but its greater result was the contribu-
tion made, directly and indirectly, to the Evangelical, or Low-
church, element in the Establishment, from which have sprung
measures in legislation and in philanthropy that have signalized
the past and the present century.
CHAPTER XX.

Ihe Opening in the Colonies—Intolerance in Virginia—Patrick Henry on the
Parsons—Tobacco—Whitefield’s Sixth Visit—Strawbridge—The First Society
and First Methodist Meeting-house in America—Orphan-house—The Founder’s
Comfort—Whitefield’s Last Visit; his Death; his Will—Hxeunt Omnes.

FTNAE current of emigration, set in motion by revolutions and

i. persecutions in the Old World during the seventeenth cent-
ary, distributed along the shores of the New very different pop-
ulations. New England received earnest Puritans; New York,
Dutch Reformers; Pennsylvania and New Jersey, Presbyteri-
ans and Quakers; the equal laws of Maryland invited a gener-
ous population of different creeds; the Carolinas were enriched
by Palatines and Huguenots; but Virginia was stinted to an ac-
cession of bigoted Churchmen, who neither preached the gospel
themselves nor allowed others to preach it. Numbers of cava-
liers and loyal gentry flocked to the ancient Dominion, where
toasts to the health of Charles IT. were drank long before the
Restoration, and where the Act of Toleration was not accepted
for fifty years after William and Mary had been crowned.

Whitefield’s gown gave him a passport through Virginia, ex-
vept, possibly, ina few places; Devereux Jarratt was another Grim-
shaw, and that scholarly and Christian man, Dr. Blair, a Scotch-
man by birth, was for half a century the commissary. Doubtless
there were other and similar mitigations of the moral influence
which the execrable State-church system was calculated to pro-
duce. A high authority says: “If we turn from the clergy to
the laity, facts present themselves such as might naturally be
supposed to exist under the ministrations of such a clergy. In-
deed, it scarce admits of a doubt that between the two classes
there was a mutual action and reaction for evil; each probably
contiibuted to make the other worse.” *

We have seen how the Methodists and Moravians were warned
off before they came in sight, and with what difficulty the Pres-
byterians got a footing in the colony. The Baptists Lore the
prunt of persecution. “They were beaten and imprisoned,” says

 

*Hawks’s Narrative of the Protestant Episcopal Church.
(250)
 
Parsons—Tobacco—Patrick Henry. 251

 

Dr. Hawks, the historian of his Church, “and cruelty taxed its
ingenuity to devise new methods of punishment and annoyance.”
But they stood it nobly. John Bunyanand Bedford jail were be-
fore them, not to speak of a higher inspiration. They marched
to prison, singing as they went “ Broad is the road that leads to
death,” and preached to crowds through the prison-bars.

About 1763, the covetousness and arrogance of the exclusive
~ vlaimants of “apostolic succession” in Virginia Colony received
a final blow from a quarter which themselves had invoked. A par-
son’s regular salary, besides house and glebe, was sixteen thousand
pounds of tobacco. The crop of 1755 being short, the legislature
passed an “act to enable the inhabitants of the colony to dis-
charge tobacco debts in money,” at the rate of sixteen shillings
and eight pence per hundred weight—at the option of the debtor.
Planters who had tobacco to sell got fifty or sixty shillings per
hundred weight, and paid the parson at the rate of sixteen shil-
lings and eight pence. This act applied to all other tobacco cred-
itors as wellas to ministers. Two years later, the crop again fail-
ing, the law was reénacted. The clergy appealed to the home
government, and by the Bishop of London their complaints were
brought before the king and council; and His Majesty denounced
the law, and pronounced it null and void. Sustained by this dec-
laration, the clergy sued to recover their stipends in tobacco; and
the test case was brought in the county of Hanover.

The case stood thus: Plaintiff (the clergy) claimed upon the
old law, which gave sixteen thousand pounds of tobacco; de-
fendant (the people) pleaded the act of 1757. To this plea plaint-
iff demurred that said act had been declared, by the king in
council, null and void. The court sustained the demurrer, and
this was in effect a decision of the cause for the clergy. It only
remained to inquire, by a jury, into the amount of damages which
the plaintiff had sustained, and to render judgment. The coun.
sel of defendant looked upon the result as inevitable, candidly
said so to his client, and retired from the cause. In this des.
perate stage of the matter, Patrick Henry was employed by de-
fendant. It was his first case. Leaving law pretty much out of
view, he played skillfully on the passions and prejudices of the
jury, excoriated the lazy and greedy parsons, and poured torrents
of eloquent denunciation upon the royal decision as indicating a
wanton disregard of the true interests of a suffering people, and
252 History of Methodism.

 

a heartless contempt of their necessities. Waxing bolder, he de-
clared that the king who disallowed and annulled laws of a sal-
utary nature instead of being the father, degenerated into tho
tyrant of his people. The opposing counsel cried out, “He has
spoken treason!” The bench, however, did not think so, and the
advocate of the people proceeded without interruption in the de-
livery of a philippic that made royally inclined ears to tingle.
The jury, carried away by such extraordinary eloquence, returned
a verdict for plaintiff of one penny damages. The court, influ-
enced as much as the jury by the fascinating power of the advo-
cate, unanimously refused to grant a new trial; and this refusal,
like the verdict, was received with shouts of acclamation by the
crowd within and without the house. In spite of all efforts of
officers to preserve order in court, the people seized Mr. Henry
at the bar, raised him on their shoulders, and carried him in a
triumphal procession about the court-yard.

The Establishment went to pieces after that, though not all at
once. Its power of using the civil magistrate to vex and hinder
others survived, in some localities, its loss of public respect; so
that in a letter written in 1774, Madison, then a young man, thus
refers to the condition of things in his vicinity:

Pride, ignorance, and knavery prevail among the priesthood, and vice and
wickedness among the laity. This is bad enough; but it is not the worst I have
to tell you. That diabolical, hell-conceived principle of persecution rages among
some; and to their eternal infamy, the clergy furnish their quota of imps for such
purposes. There are at this time in the adjacent county not less than five or six
well-meaning men in close jail for publishing their religious sentiments, which, in
the main, are very orthodox.

Dissenters increased so rapidly that at the breaking out of the
Revolution they were estimated at two-thirds of the population.
The Methodists came in and began their work. In 1785 Jeffer-
son’s Bill for Religious Freedom became law. In 1801 an order
was passed for the sale of all the glebes by the overseers of the
poor as soon as vacated by existing incumbents, except those
made as private donations subsequent to 1777. Thus were cum-
berers of the ground cleared away, and a noble soil was prepared
for a better growth.

On his sixth ‘visit to America, Whitefield reached Virginia the
same year Patrick Henry dealt the effective blow for disestab-
lishment. Whether the two orators, whose eloquence was serv-
ing the cause of Christianity from different directions, ever met,
Robert Strawbridge—First Society and Church. 253

 

we have no information. Asthma and other ailments were op-
pressing the great preacher. One physician prescribed a per-
petual blister. “ But I have found,” said he, “perpetual preaching
to be a better remedy. When this great catholicon fails, it is
over with me.”

To escape the summer heat, he passed on to the North, and
seems to have spent the winter there, amidst the scenes of his
former gospel-ranging. Next year, as he made his way to Geor-
gia, if he had turned aside a little to the right from his usual track
through Maryland, he might have heard the sound of axes and
the felling and hewing of trees. The Methodists were build-
ing their first meeting-house in America. The people who were
destined so largely to cultivate the Western Continent began
their “clearing” in 1764, in the woods of Frederick (now Carroll)
county, Maryland, thirty miles north-west of Baltimore.

Robert Strawbridge was born at Drumsna, county Leitrim,
Ireland. ‘“Drumsna is a clean, picturesque, and beautiful little
village on the banks of the Shannon.” * As early as May, 1758,
Wesley preached there. Strawbridge was converted; went to
Sligo, where he joined the Society, and was soon heard of as a
preacher at Kilmore and elsewhere. Some now “fallen asleep ”
were accustomed to speak of him as “a man of devoted piety and
considerable preaching abilities.’ Marrying a Methodist wife
at Terryhugan—Miss Piper—he bid farewell to Ireland to find
a home in the New World. He settled, probably in 1760, on
Sam’s Creek—then in the backwoods of Maryland—and opened
his house for preaching. A log meeting-house was built a few
years afterward, about a mile from his home. This cradle of
American Methodism is entitled to minute description: “Twenty-
two feet square; the logs sawed for a door-way on one side, and
smaller openings made on the other three sides for windows; and
no regular floor.” In this primitive chapel, which has had many
successors in our land and Church, Strawbridge preached for
many years. Although it had no “regular floor,” it had a pulpit,
for under the pulpit of the log meeting-house were buried twe
of the preacher’s little children. From this point the hearty and
zealous evangelist itinerated into Eastern Maryland, Virginia,
Delaware, and Southern Pennsylvania. Doubtless, he gathered
not a little of the fruit where Whitefield had shaken the boughs

*Treland and the Centenary of American Methodism, by Win. Crook, D.D.

 
254 Histcry of Methodism.

 

He is described as “of medium size, dark complexion, black hair;
had a sweet voice, and was an excellent singer.” His more im-
portant qualities may be read in his work and history.

The Sam’s Creek Society, consisting at first of twelve or fifteen
persons, was a fountain of good influence to the county and the
State. It carly gave four or five preachers td the itinerancy.
Strawbridge founded Methodism in Baltimore and Harford coun-
ties. The first Society in the former.was organized by him at
the house of David Evans,* near the city, and the first chapel in the
county was erected by them. The first native Methodist preacher
of the continent, Richard Owen, was one of his converts. He
was long the most effective co-laborer of Strawbridge, traveling
the country in all directions, founding Societies and opening the
way for the coming itinerants.t

Strawbridge was poor, and the family were often straitened for food; but he was
a man of strong faith, and would say to them on leaving, “Meat will be sent here
to-day.” The calls upon him to go to distant parts of the country to preach became,
in course of time, so frequent and pressing that his family were likely to suffer in
his absence, so that it became a question with him, “Who will keep the wolf from
my door while I am abroad looking after the lost sheep?” Meanwhile, his friendly
neighbors agreed to cultivate his little farm without charge, and to see that his
wife and children wanted for nothing during his absence. In this way this zeal-
ous servant of Christ continued to labor in different parts of Frederick, and through-
out the length and breadth of Baltimore county, breaking up new ground, form-
ing new Societies, and establishing permanent places for preaching—God working
through him by the word which he preached. It is delightful to look back, after
a lapse of ninety years and upward, and recount one by one the long list of those
who could claim this primitive missionary as the instrument of their salvation,
many of them persons of intelligence and of influence in the communities in which
they lived, joining themselves first to Christ, and then devoting their substance to
huild up a godly seed for generations following; and of these we recur with feelings
of satisfaction to the parents of the late Dr. Thomas E. Bond. t

Continuing his journey southward through Virginia and Car-
olina, Whitefield pauses at New Berne, where “ good impressions
were made.” “This, with every other place, being open and ex-
ceedingly desirous to hear the gospel,” he says, “makes me almost
determined to come back early in the spring.”” Having preached in
Charleston, he once more arrived at Savannah, and had the happi-

 

* David Evans said that, “about the year 1764, he embraced the Methodist re-
ligion under Mr. Strawbridge.” (Dr. Hamilton’s Discourse on “ Early Methodism
in Maryland.”)

¢ History of Methodist E. Church, by Dr. Stevens. + Dr. Hamilton, 1856.
The Georgia Orphan-house and College. 255

 

ness to find the state of the colony as prosperous as he could wish.
“The colony,” says he, “is rising fast; nothing but plenty at Be-
thesda; and all arrears, I trust, will be paid off before I leave it, so
that I hope to be freed from these outward incumbrances.”

The old Trustee government had given way to the colonial or
royal, and a governor and council had affairs in hand, with Ha-
bersham in a position of influence. Whitefield had planned a
college in connection with the Orphan-house, for the youth of
Carolina, Georgia, and the West Indies; but the ecclesiastical
authorities in England resisted the granting of the charter pro-
posed by him, though presented and advocated by Dartmouth,
unless the conditions were inserted that a Church of England
man should be president, and that not extempore prayers, but the
Prayer-book, must be daily used in the college. Doubtless the
hand of the Charleston Commissary was in this. “That bottom
was not broad enough.” The charter, on such conditions, was
respectfully but firmly declined, and Whitefield and his friends
contented themselves with an institution of humbler name, at
Bethesda, yet affording much greater facilities for education than
any that had been before enjoyed in that quarter.

Whitefield informed the Georgia government that he had ex-
pended £12,000 upon the Orphan-house, and now he wished to
attach to it a college; that, in order to accomplish his purpose,
he was prepared to lay out a considerable sum of money “in pur-
chasing a large number of negroes” for the cultivation of the
rice and indigo plantation for the “future support of a president,
professors, and tutors;” and he asked the council to grant him,
in trust, for the purposes aforesaid, two thousand acres of land.
Moreover, he proposed to transfer his plantation from Carolina _
to. the Georgia Colony. He writes:

Bethesda, January 14,1765. God hath given me great favor in the sight of the
governor, council, and assembly. A memorial was presented for an additional
grant of land, consisting of two thousand acres. It was immediately complied with.
Both houses addressed the governor in behalf of the intended college. Every
heart seems to leap for joy, at the prospect of its future utility.

February 13. Yesterday morning, the governor, and Lord G——, with several
other gentlemen, favored me with their company to breakfast. . . Now fare-
well, my beloved Bethesda; surely the most delightful place in all the southern
parts of America. What a blessed winter have I had! Peace and love, ard har-
mony and plenty, reign here! Thanks be to God, all outward things are settle’
on this side the water. The auditing the accounts, and laying the foundation f°
256 History of Methodism.

 

a college, hath silenced enemies and comforted friends. The finishing of this af-
fair confirms my call to England at this time.

On his way to New York to take ship, he writes: “All along
from Charleston to this place, the cry is, ‘For Christ’s sake stay
and preach to us!’ O for a thousand lives to spend for J esus!”
Arriving in England in time to dedicate the Bath Chapel of the
Countess of Huntingdon, he tarried there until Trevecca College
was opened, filling up the space between with itinerant labors
over the United Kingdom.* Quitting England for the last time,
he landed (Nov. 30) in Charleston, and was welcomed by the
people as never before.

From his home at Bethesda, he writes (January 11, 1770):
“ Every thing exceeds my most sanguine expectations. T am al-
most tempted to say, ‘It is good for me to be here;’ but all must
give way to gospel-ranging—divine employ!” In another let- -
ter: “And the increase in this colony is almost incredible. Two
wings are added to the Orphan-house, for the accommodation of
students; of which Governor Wright laid the foundation, March
25,1769.” Bethesda is head-quarters for awhile, and it is pleas-
ant to witness his joy, after so long toil. The Orphan-house has
nearly done its work, and the Lord comforts his servant at the
last. Of the many letters in this strain, we extract from a few.
In April, he writes to a London friend:

You are daily remembered at a throne of grace. How glad would many be to
see our Goshen, our Bethel, our Bethesda! Never did I enjoy such domestic peace,
comfort, and joy, during my whole pilgrimage. It is unspeakable, it is full of glory.
Peace, peace unutterable, attends our paths; and a pleasing prospect of increasing,
useful prosperity is continually rising to our view. We enjoy a little heaven on
earth here. With regret I go northward, as far as Philadelphia at least, next
month. Though I am persuaded, as the house is now altered, I should be cooler
here during the summer’s heat than at any other place I know of, where I used
to go. I should be glad to treat you with some of the produce of our colony, which
is much earlier than yours. The audits, etc., sent with this, be pleased to com-
municate to all my real friends. Every thing concurs to show me that Bethesda’s
affairs must go on as yet in their old channel. I wish some books might be pro-
eured for our infant library. In all probability, I shall not return hither till No-
vember. Was ever any man blessed with such a set of skillful, peaceful, labori-
ous helpers? O Bethesda, my Bethel, my Peniel! My happiness is inconceivable.
A few hundred besides what is already devoted would finish all, I do not in the
least doubt. I have had nine or ten prizes lately. You know what I mean—nine

 

*It was on this trip to England that he buried his wife, concerning whom this may suffice:
When one, on a certain occasion, asked how Whitefield had married, the reply was, “Not so
well as Charles Wesley, nor so bad as John.” -
Philip Embury. 257

 

or ten orphans have lately been taken in. Halleluiah! halleluiah! let chapel,
Tabernacle, heaven, and earth resound with halleluiah! Icannomore. My heart
w too big to speak or add more.

With such feelings he leaves Bethesda, not to return. On his
way northward from Philadelphia, he writes: “Pulpits, hearts, and
affections seem to be as open and enlarged toward me as ever.
Praise the Lord,O my soul! As yet I have my old plan in view—
to travel in these northern parts all summer, and return late in
the fall to Georgia. Through infinite mercy, I still continue in
good health, and more and more in love every day with a pilgrim
life. People of all ranks flock as much asever. To all the Epis-
copal churches, as well as most of the other places of worship, I
have free access. Notwithstanding I preach twice on the Lord’s-
day, and three or four times a week besides, yet I am rather bet-
ter than I have been for many years. To the long-suffering,
never-failing Lord be all the glory. So many new as well as old
doors are open, and so many invitations sent from various quarters,
that I know not which way toturn myself. Perhaps I may notsee
Georgia till Christmas. As yet I keep to my intended plan in re-
specttomy returning. Lord Jesus, direct my goings in thy way!”

Since Whitefield was last in New York, the Methodists had
organized there under Philip Embury, an Irish local preacher
who came out the same year with Strawbridge, but had not been
quite so forward in his work. They had built a church and
called on Wesley for help.

On the third of August, 1769, in the Conference at Leeds, he
said from the chair: “ We have a pressing call from our brethren
of New York (who have built a preaching-house) to come over
and help them. Who is willing to go?” Richard Boardman
and Joseph Pilmoor responded. ‘“ What can we do further in
token of our brotherly love? Let us now take a collection among
ourselves.” This was immediately done, and out of it £50 were
allotted toward the payment of the New York debt, and £20 given
to the brethren for their passage.

While Whitefield was on the Atlantic making for the port of
Charleston, these two missionaries were sailing before the same
winds for the port of Philadelphia. He met them and gave them
his blessing. His mission of preparation was drawing to a
close, and they were to enter into his labors where he left off.

On Saturday morning, September 29, 1770, he set out for

17
258 History of Methodism.

 

Boston; but before he came to Newburyport, where he had en-
gaged to preach next morning, he was importuned to preach by
the way, at Exeter. A friend observing him more uneasy than
usual, said: “Sir, you are more fit to go to bed than to preach.”
To which Whitefield answered, “True, sir;” but turning aside
he clasped his hands together, and looking up said: “ Lord Jesus,
I am weary ix thy work, but not of thy work. If I have not yet
finished my course, let me go and speak for thee once more in
the fields, seal thy truth, and come home and die.” He preached
in the open air to accommodate the multitudes that came to hear
him, no house being able to contain them, and continued his dis.
course nearly two hours, by which he was: greatly fatigued. In
the afternoon he set off for Newburyport, where he arrived that
evening, and soon after retired to rest, intent on preaching the
next day. He awoke many times in the night, and complained
very much of an oppression at his lungs, breathing with great
difficulty. Oppressed by asthma, early in the morning he sat up
in the bed, and prayed that God would be pleased to bless his
preaching where he had been, and also bless his preaching that
day, that more souls might be brought to Christ; prayed for di-
rection, whether he should winter at Boston or hasten to the
southward; prayed for a blessing on all his labors and his friends
in America and Europe, for Bethesda and the Tabernacle. At
six o’clock herose and moved quickly to the open window for air,
and said to his servant, “J am dying;” and sitting in his chair
he expired. He was buried beneath the pulpit of Federal Street
Church, Newburyport, and there his remains are to this day.
Eulogy, or a summing up of such a life and character, is
needless. Dying testimony was not required of him whose
living testimony had so often glorified his Lord. He had a pre-
sentiment that it would be so in his case. So ardent were his
desires after the heavenly happiness that he often longed to fin-
ish his work, and to go home to his Saviour. “Blessed be God,”
said he, “the prospect of death is pleasant to my soul. I would
not live here always; I want to be gone. Sometimes it ariseg
from a fear of falling, sometimes from a prospect of future la-
bors and sufferings. But there are times when my soul has such
foretastes of God that I long more eagerly to be with him; and the
prospect of the happiness which the spirits of just men made per-
-fect now enjoy often carries me, as it were, into another world.”
Death of Whitefield. 259

 

The impression upon the public mind may be imagined. The
funeral-discourses, by leading preachers in Old and New En-
gland, would make a volume. Wesley, according to request, de-
livered a sermon in the Tabernacle worthy of the occasion and
of himself. The effect of the announcement of his death upon
the inhabitants of the Southern provinces, especially that of
Georgia, was most profound. In Savannah all the black cloth
in the stores was bought up. The governor and council, in deep
mourning, convened at the State-house and went in procession to
church, and were received by the organ playing a funeral-dirge,
and two funeral-sermons were preached.

Our readers may feel an interest in that portion of his will
which disposes of Bethesda affairs:

In respect to my American concerns, which I have engaged in simply and sole-
ly for His great name’s sake, I leave that building, commonly called the Orphan-
house, at Bethesda, in the province of Georgia, together with all the other build-
ings lately erected thereon, and likewise all other buildings, lands, negroes, books,
furniture, and every other thing whatsoever, which I now stand possessed of in the
province of Georgia aforesaid, to that elect lady, that mother in Israel, that mir-
ror of true and undefiled religion, the Right Honorable Selina, Countess Dowager
of Huntingdon; desiring that as soon as may be after my decease, the plan of the
intended Orphan-house Bethesda College may be prosecuted; if not practicable,
or eligible, to pursue the present plan of the Orphan-house academy, on its old
foundation and usual channel; but if her ladyship should be called to enter her
glorious rest before my decease, I bequeath all the buildings, lands, negroes, and
every thing before mentioned, which I now stand possessed of in the province of
Georgia aforesaid, to my dear fellow-traveler, and faithful, invariable friend, the
Honorable James Habersham, president of His Majesty’s honorable council.

The Countess entered upon the discharge of the trust earnestly.
All the ministerial students who had gone out from the college
were called in to form “the Mission to North America,” and a
solemn assembly was held at Trevecca for a fortnight. In due
time several missionaries who had been selected and ordained for
this field sailed for Georgia, with a Church of England president
for Bethesda, and the Countess’s own housekeeper to put things
in proper order, “ that nothing should be wanting on their parts to
render the establishment of the president, master, and students
suitable to the character they bore as belonging to the Countess
of Huntingdon.” Visions of missionary fields among the na-
tives, and in distant settlements, were bright. Such a jubilee as
attended the preparation and leave-taking is seldom equaled at
260 History of Methodism.

 

this day, when missionary operations are more frequently enter-
prised. The Countess soon added an estate of her own to the
Bethesda plantation, where slaves—in addition to the fifty left
by Whitefield—cultivated rice and indigo, for the support of the
institution. The preachers were well received by the people.
The first remittance from the proceeds of the trust sent by her
agents, Tatnall & Glenn (£26, 10s), the Countess returned t-
them to be expended on the trust, and marks the occasion:

I must therefore request that a woman slave be purchased with it, and that she
may be called Selina, after me, in order best to establish that period of my ouly
receipt of money during the whole course of my possessing that trust, or my own
property there; and that in your accounts it may fully fix and determine the time
of this remittance, taking care that it may appear as by my special appointmert.*

The conduct of business so complicated as an orphanage, a
college, a mission, and a large plantation, with the owner thou-
sands of miles away, turned out as might be supposed. Her
clerical superintendent, Piercy, lived high, and sent no itemized
accounts to her.ladyship, who had remitted, and was remitting,
large sums to keep things going. She complains of “his having
driven to Boston forty-one of my best slaves and sold them,” and
appropriated the large proceeds, all without her consent.+

The Orphan-house was accidentally destroyed by fire. The
Revolutionary War came on, and the reverend president and
missionaries took advantage of the reduction of Charleston by
the British forces, in 1780, to return to England; and the estates
of the Countess were confiscated.

 

*The devout Hervey spent the winter 1751-2 in London, mostly at the house
of Whitefield. A mutual review of their theological works occupied part of their
time. ‘After sharing Whitefield’s hospitality, Hervey left a singular gift. “When
you please to demand, my brother will pay you £30, for the purchase of a negro.
And may the Lord Jesus Christ give you, or rather take for himself, the precious
soul of the poor slave!” Whitefield readily acquiesced. He answered: “You
are resolved not to die in my debt. I think to call your intended purchase Wes
ton, and shall take care to remind him by whose means he was brought under the
everlasting gospel.”

{The Lite and Times of the Countess of Huntingdon (Vol. II, pp. 266-271).
CHAPTER XXI.

Arminian Methodism Planted—First Laborers: Strawbridge, Embury; Williams
King— These Irregulars Occupying the Ground and Preparing the Way—
Which was the First—The Log Meeting-house—The Grave of Strawbridge.

HILE an abortive attempt was being made, under the

patronage of an English countess, to establish Calvinistic
Methodism in Georgia, the foundation of its Arminian type was
well laid in Maryland by the poor Irish farmer, Strawbridge;
the chapel at New York, under the carpenter, Embury, was
prospering; and Robert Williams, with John King, was forming -
classes and planning circuits in Virginia and North Carolina.

The bigotry of Louis XIV., who had expelled the Huguenots
from France, sent also the Protestants of the Lower Rhine—the
Palatinate—into many lands for refuge. They were of German
blood and Lutheran faith; and the armies of Turenne, by order
of his popish master, were let loose upon them in 1688. Houses
and villages were laid waste by fire and sword. The Elector
Palatine could see from the towers of Manheim, his capital, no
less than two cities and twenty-five villages on fire at once.
About three thousand of these Palatines came to Pennsylvania
and North Carolina. Over a hundred families settled in Limer-
ick, Ireland. They were thrifty in building and planting, but
being isolated both by religion and language, their moral con-
dition became as bad as that of their neighbors, or worse.

In 1752 Wesley preached in one of the villages of these Pala-
tines. He repeated his visit. Philip Embury was one of the
early converts, and a Society was formed in his village. In 1760 .
Philip and his family, two of his brothers and their families,
Paul Heck and Barbara his wife, with a goodly company of their
countrymen, emigrated to New York. Philip Embury was born
in Ballingran, in 1728. It is probable that he heard Wesley on
the occasion of his first visit to Limerick, and there is a tra-
dition in the family that he always traced his conversion to
that sermon. A small book, in the possession of his family, has
the following entry, in his own handwriting: “On Christmas-day,
being Monday, ye 25th of December, in the year 1752, the Lord

R (261)
262 History of Methodism.

 

shone into my soul by a glimpse of his redeeming love, being an
earnest of my redemption in Christ Jesus, to whom be glory for
ever andever. Amen. Put. Empury.” He was shortly after
appointed a class-leader, and was consistent and faithful. With-
in a brief period he became a local preacher. He was a carpen-
ter; and it is believed that the principal portion of the timber
work in connection with the first church among the Palatines
was done by Embury’s own hand. In 1758 Wesley held a Con-
ference, for the second time, in Limerick. At this Conference,
among those recommended for the itinerancy were Philip Em-
bury of Ballingran, and William Thompson of Enniskillen.*
Philip was put on the “reserve list,” and while building the
church met with Mary Switzer, and married her; and thus put
an end to his itinerant expectations, and got turned to America.
Thompson became a leader of the Wesleyan host, and was its
first president after Wesley’s death. “The presumption is,”
says an excellent authority, “that Kmbury attempted some re-
ligious service shortly after landing in New York; but being con-
stitutionally timid and retiring, and meeting with little or no en-
couragement, and having no suitable place in which to conduct
the services, he abandoned the idea of attempting any public
services, at least for the present. He joined the Lutherans, and
we have the testimony of his son that he never abandoned the
practice of family worship. During the period in which Em-
bury’s ‘talent lay hid in a napkin’ several of his children were
born, who were baptized among the Lutherans.” +

In 1765 a second party of Palatine families arrived in New
York, from Ballingran and the old neighborhood. Their arrival
doubtless awakened tender memories, and brought fresh reports
of the class-meetings and congregations where those immigrants,
- who were Methodists, formerly worshiped; for it seems the most
of them were Wesleyans, or members of the Irish Protestant
Church. The Palatines who came first had backslidden gener-
ally, and the new-comers were no better. When they met, after
the day’s labor, card-playing formed the staple amusement.
There is no evidence that Embury ever played with them. One
evening, in the autumn of 1766, a large company were assembled
playing cards as usnal, when Barbara Heck came in, and hastily
seized the cards, and throwing them into the fire, administered a

 

*Treland and American Methodism, by the Rev. W. Crook, D.D. ft Ibid.
Barbara Heck—Embury—Captain Webb. 268

 

rebuke to all concerned. She then went to Embury’s house, who
was her cousin, and told him what she saw, and what she had
done,.adding, with great earnestness: “ Philip, you must preach
to us, or we shall all go to hell, and God will require our blood
at your hands!” Philip attempted a defense by saying, “How
can I preach, as I have neither house nor congregation?”
“Preach,” said this noble woman, “in your own house, and to
your own company.” Before she left she prevailed on him to
make the attempt, and within a few days Embury preached the
first Methodist sermon in New York, in his own hired house, to
a congregation of five persons, one of whom was Betty, the ne-
gro servant. Of course Paul Heck and Barbara were there.

“The humble cottage, with a single window in front,” became
too small, and an “upper room ” was hired; and in 1767 this yield-
ed to the more accommodating Rigging Loft—a room sixty by
eighteen feet. Here Embury preached Sunday mornings at six
o’clock, and Sunday evenings; and after a time, on Thursday
evenings.

When this primitive church had been worshiping for about
three months in the Rigging Loft, one Sunday evening a strange-
looking military gentleman appeared among them. He was
dressed as an officer, and had lost one of his eyes in a battle. He
wore a green shade over the eye, and his appearance caused gen-
eral excitement and inquiry. The fears of the little flock speedily
gave place to joy on learning that he was a Methodist, who had
been converted, under Wesley, at Bristol, three years before; that
he was now barrack-master at Albany; and, best of all, that he was
a local preacher, who would assist Embury in ministering the word
of life. Captain Webb is a memorable figure in those days. He
preached in his regimentals, his trusty sword lying on the desk,
and drew vast crowds. His word was attended with uncommon
power. “The sword of the Spirit was buried up to the hilt in
the refuges of lies,” and the Rigging Loft, Sunday after Sunday,
resounded with the joyful notes of victory, and songs of praise
to a pardoning God. Under his ministry, and that of Embury,
multitudes found peace through believing, and the place became
too strait for them.

A site was leased on John street in 1768, and purchased two
years after. The people generally encouraged the enterprise,
from the mayor to the poorest citizen. The subscription paper.
264 History of Methodism.

 

which is still preserved, contains the names of two hundred and
fifty persons. Captain Webb stands first in amount, one hun-
dred and fifty dollars. The chapel was built of stone, faced with
blue plaster—sixty feet in length, forty-two in breadth. Dis-
senters were not yet allowed to erect “regular churches” in the
city; the new building was therefore provided with “a fire-place
aud chimney” to avoid “the difficulty of the law.” It was called
“The Wesley Chapel.” Embury superintended the work, and
made the pulpit with his own hands, and then, October 30, 1768,
got into it, and preached the dedication sermon. The opening
sermon-—just two years after the first sermon in his own house—
was from Hosea x. 12: “Sow to yourselves in righteousness, reap
in mercy; break up your fallow ground; for it is time to seek the
Lord, till he come and rain righteousness upon you.”

While the poor members, encouraged by the generous Captain,
were yet hesitating over so vast an undertaking, Barbara Heck
came forward, and told them that in praying about it these
words “ with unexpressible sweetness and power” were impressed

_on her mind: “I, the Lord, will do it.” Embury supplied the
pulpit until the arrival of Wesley’s missionaries, when he left
New York for the interior of the State, where he died in 1775.

Captain Webb planted Methodism in Philadelphia, and “felled
trees” and formed classes in New Jersey and in other parts. He
was liberal of means as well as zealous. Being placed on the re-
tired list, with the pay of a captain, in view of his heroic service,
he gave himself up to the itinerant work, and went abroad preach-
ing. He corresponded with Wesley, urging the wants of Amer-
ica for laborers, and even stood before the Conference at Leeds
(1772), pleading the cause, and brought away two missionaries—
Rankin and Shadford. He asked for Joseph Benson, but could
not prevail. The old soldier was a chosen vessel for the North-
ern and Middle colonies. Knowledge of Methodism in England,
education, and position in society, gave him advantages which
were well used in laying the foundations.

During one of the sessions of Congress, in Philadelphia, John
Adams heard him, and describes him as “the old soldier, one of
the most eloquent men I ever heard. He reaches the imagina-
tion and touches the passions very well; he expresses himself
with great propriety.” A Methodist writér says: “They saw the
warrior in his face, and heard the missionary in his voice; under
Robert Williams, the First Itinerant. 265

his holy eloquence they trembled, they wept, and fell down un-
der his mighty word.” He was a preacher of great earnestness.
His ringing voice was heard in the Foundry, and Wesley writes:
“T admire the wisdom of God in still raising up various preach-
ers, according to the various tastes of men. The Captain is all
life and fire; therefore, although he is not deep or regular, yet
many who would not hear a better preacher, flock to hear him,
and many are convinced under his preaching.” To the end of
his days he was persuaded that a ministering spirit, a guardian
angel, had, through Divine mercy, attended him all the way in
his diversified pilgrimage. His long and useful life, closed where
his spiritual life began—in Bristol. He contributed to building
Portland Chapel, and in a vault beneath its communion-table he
was buried. The venerable and valiant evangelist was laid to
rest by “a crowded, weeping audience;” and the trustees erect-
ed a marble monument to his memory within its walls, pronounc-
ing him “brave, active, courageous—faithful, zealous, successful
—the principal instrument in erecting this chapel.”

The first itinerant preacher who came over to thé help of our
cause in the New World was Robert Williams. “He was taken
out to travel at the Conference of 1766, and his name is found in
the Minutes of that year among the Irish appointments.”* One
of his circuits took in Sligo, where he crossed the path, and
doubtless saw the tracks, of Robert Strawbridge, whom he much
resembled in impetuous usefulness, in boldness of pioneering,
and in that spiritual instinct which goes ahead of ecclesiastic-
al logic in solving questions as to what Israel ought to do. He
had not an embarrassingly high respect for the Established
Church and clergy, and this discounted him with Wesley, who
.makes a significant entry in his journal, shortly before Williams
emigrated to America:

I rode over the Black Mountains to Manorhamilton. There was a general love
to the gospel here till simple R. W. preached against the clergy. It is strange
every one does not see: 1. The sinfulness of railing at the clergy; if they are blind
leaders of the blind, then (says our Lord) “Jét them alone.” 2. The foolishness
of it. It can never do good, and has frequently done much harm.t

About March, 1769, tidings came of Embury’s success, and

 

*Treland and American Methodism, by W. Crook, D.D. This is our best an-
thority on the subject. Most accounts of Robert Williams represent him as
tocal preacher, or lay evangelist. t Ibid.
266 History of Methodism.

Williams spoke to Wesley (who had had an urgent letter from New
York), offering to go, and asking his sanction and authority. Wes-
ley consented to his going, with the understanding that he was to
“Jabor in subordination with the missionaries who were about to be
sent out.” Williams’s impatient zeal panted for the moral conflict
in the New World, and he resolved to be the first itinerant who ap-
peared in America. He was poor, and had no way of paying his
passage. Hearing that his friend Ashton was ready to sail, Will-
iams hastily left Castlebar, sold his horse to pay his debts and
pay his way to Dublin, and, carrying his saddle-bags on his arm,
set off for the ship, with a loaf of bread and a bottle of milk.
Ashton met him according to promise, and paid his passage.
They arrived in New York in August, 1769, “two months at least”
before Boardman and Pilmoor, the regular appointees. Robert
Williams was “the apostle of Methodism” in Virginia and North
Carolina, the spiritual father of Jesse Lee, who planted Method-
ism in New England, and of a multitude of converted souls who
will bless God that ever he was born.

He took Embury’s place in Wesley Chapel, and in connection
with the other missionaries labored in New York and vicinity
until 1771. The records of Old John Street Society show sug-
gestive items of expenses incurred by the stewards—cash paid
for a hat, a book, a trunk, a cloak, for “Mr. Williams;” but
the principal item is for keeping his horse, showing that some
circuit work and country excursions were connected with a city
of twenty-two thousand inhabitants. :

Naturally he would seek the companionship of Strawbridge,
and with him, probably, he spent the fall and winter, laboring
in connection with John King, another vigorous but irregular
helper, lately come out; and under their ministry a good work
began in Baltimore City and county, and in the adjoining coun-
try, the fruits of which remain to this day.

The date of his first appearance in Virginia is 1772. He landed at Norfolk
early in the year, and at once opened his missioa. He preached his first sermon
at the door of the court-house. Standing on the steps, he began to sing. At-
tracted by ihe novel sound, the people gathered around and gazed on him with
astonishment. The hymn finished, he kneeled and prayed. He then announced
his text, and preached to a most disorderly crowd. A few listened, but most of
them talked, laughed, and moved about in all directions. Nothing daunted, the
sturdy missionary poured from a full heart the simple truths of the gospel. To
the wondering multitude he was an enigma. Nevey had they heard the hke.
Williams in Virginia—His Great Usefulness. 267

 

“Sometimes,” said they, “he would preach, then he would pray, then he would
swear, and at times he would sing.” Unaccustomed to hearing preachers freely
use the words, “hell,” “devil,” etc., in their sermons, when he warned them of the
danger of going to hell, of being damned forever, of dwelling with the devil and
his angels, they declared he was swearing. “He is mad,” was the verdict. Of
course no house was opened to entertain a madman. He preached again. <A few
hearts were touched, and the stranger was fed and sheltered, not as mad, but as
speaking the words of truth and soberness. The tree of Methodism was thus plant-
ed in an uncongenial soil, but, watered from on high, it struck its roots deep, and
put forth goodly branches, bearing much fruit.*

He returned a hundred members from Virginia to the first
Annual Conference. Jarratt, the evangelical clergyman, wrote
an account of “the work of God in these parts ””—Sussex and
Brunswick counties—and says:

It was chiefly carried on by the Methodists. The first of them that appeared
there was Robert Williams, who was a plain, active, indefatigable preacher of the
gospel. He was greatly blessed in detecting the hypocrite, razing false founda-
tions, and stirring believers up to press after a present salvation from the remains
of sin. He came to my house in the month of March, in the year 1773. The
next year others of his brethren came, who gathered many Societies, both in this
neighborhood and in other places as far as North Carolina. They now began to
ride the circuit, and to take care of the Societies already formed, which were ren-
dered a happy means both of deepening and spreading the work of God.

Williams formed the first circuit in Virginia. <A signal exam-
ple of his usefulness was the conversion of Jesse Lee, whose par-
ents opened their doors for him to preach. They were converted.
Two of their sons became Methodist ministers, and their other
children shared largely in the blessings of the gospel which he
proclaimed with such holy ardor and success. Jesse Lee de-
scribes the man and his manner in days when the Toleration
Act was not always a protection:

His manner of preaching was well calculated to awaken careless sinners, and to
encourage penitent mourners. He spared no pains in order to do good. He fre-
quently went to church to hear the Established clergy, and as soon as divine serv-
ice was ended he would go out of the church, and standing on a stump, block, or
log, began to sing, pray, and then preach to hundreds of people. It was commun
with him, after preaching, to ask most of the people some question about the wei-
fare of their souls.

He was the first preacher in America that followed the exam-
ple of Wesley in the circulation of tracts and books. Jesse Lee
tells us that he “reprinted many of Wesley’s books and spread

 

* Bennett’s Memorials of Methodism in Virginia.
268 History of Methodism.

 

them through the country.” He issued Wesley’s sermons in
tract form, and circulated them freely with the happiest results.
After marrying he ceased to travel as a regular itinerant. His
home was about midway between Suffolk and Portsmouth. Here
he died. For many years his grave was remembered and point-
ed out, but all trace of it has disappeared. ‘“ We look with pecul-
iar feelings on him who stands first in a great cause.” Robert
Williams printed the first Methodist book in America, he was
the first to marry, the first to locate, the first to die, and the first of
that band of heroes who passed into the City of God.

John King is the last of the memorable irregulars to be men-
tioned who took possession before the appointed missionaries
came to America, and becoming naturalized, clave to the soil and
to the people, and stood by the cause of Methodism when all but
one of the regulars left the field. There is a lesson here touch-
ing the theory of missionary success. The impulse that draws
or drives a man into such a field is a greater power and guaran-
tee against failure than any fund or association standing at his
back. John King was a strong character, and did service at a
time when such men only make themselves heard. He was born
in England, in 1746—the youngest of three sons. He had stud-
ied at Oxford University, and in a London medical college.
Whether he ever graduated, we do not know. He heard John
Wesley preach, and was converted. His father’s family bitterly
opposed the Methodist movement. Finally he was disinherited.
It was the old story. The love for Jesus waxed all the warmer
in his heart when he felt that he was “persecuted for righteous-
ness’ sake.” So far from recanting his faith, he was now im-
pressed with the conviction that he must preach. He went to
Wesley and opened his heart to him, and that decided his course.
We next find him in Philadelphia, in the latter part of 1769,
burdened with the conviction, “ Woe is unto me if I preach not
the gospel!” He offered himself to the Society for license, but
they hesitated. However, he determined to preach, and made an
appointment “in the potter’s field.” He proclaimed his first
message in that humblest of sanctuaries, over the graves of the
poor, and thus began a career of eminent.usefulness. Some of
his Methodist brethren heard him, and he was licensed, and next
appears in Wilmington, Del., “among a few people who were
there earnestly seeking the Lord.” In Maryland, Strawbridge
John King, One of the “Irregulars.” 269

 

greeted him with hearty welcome, and they wrought zealously to.
gether in Baltimore county. King was a man of invincible zeal.
On his first visit to Harford county, in 1769, before he began relig-
ious services in a large congregation, he stood some time in silent
prayer, covering his face with his hands. The spectacle struck
the attention of a young man with such effect that he was awak-
ened, and was soon after converted under the ministry of the
stranger. King was the first Methodist to preach in the city of
Baltimore. Here he preached his first sermon from a “black-
smith’s block, at the corner of French and Broad streets,” his
next from “a table at the junction of Baltimore and Calvert
streets.” Five years afterward Methodism was strong enough
there to entertain an Annual Conference, and Baltimore ever
since has sat as queen among Methodist cities. His street-
preaching procured him an invitation that was not repeated—to
preach in St. Paul’s Church. He “made the dust fly from the
old velvet cushion.” Wesley, who knew him in England, corre-
sponded with him in America; he calls him “stubborn and head-
strong.” Oneof Wesley’s letters to him conveys so good a lesson
that it may be quoted for the benefit of all public speakers, and
especially for the benefit of earnest young preachers:

My dear brother, always take advice or reproof asa favor; itis the surest mark
of love. I advised you once and you took it as an affront; nevertheless I will do
it once more. Scream no more at the peril of your soul. God now warns you by
me, whom he has set over you. Speak as earnestly as you can, but do not scream.
Speak with all your heart, but with a moderate voice. It was said of our Lord,
“He shall not ery:” the word properly means, he shall not scream. Herein be a fol-
lower of me, as I am of Christ. I often speak loud, often vehemently, but I never
scream. I never strain myself; I dare not; I know it would be a sin against God
and my own soul. Perhaps one reason why that good man, Thomas Walsh, yea,
and John Manners too, were in such grievous darkness before they died, was be-
cause they shortened their own lives. O John, pray for an advisable and teach-
able temper. By nature you are very far from it; you are stubborn and head-
strong. Your last letter was written in a very wrong spirit.

John King’s name appears among the ten in the first printed
Minutes who made up the first Annual Conference in Amer-
ica, and from it he was sent to New Jersey; next year to
Norfolk; and next year he married in Brunswick county, Va.,
and soon after located. The Church prospered and enlarged
where John King labored. After locating he bought a home
in Franklin county, N. C., near the present county-seat, Louis-
270 History of Methodism.

 

ourg, where he lived until 1789 or 1790, when he removed to
Wake county, about ten miles west of Raleigh. At the Annual
Conference of 1777 he was appointed, with John Dickens, LeRoy
Cole, and Edward Pride, to North Carolina Cireuit. This was
the second year of the existence of a circuit in that State. At
the close of the year they reported nine hundred and thirty mem-
hers. Carolina Circuit the year before had reported six hundred
and eighty-three members in Society; so that, notwithstanding
the war there had been an increase of two hundred and forty-
seven. King’s name does not appear on the printed Minutes
after this year. He practiced medicine to support his family,
and served the Church as a local preacher. Bishop Asbury
makes frequent and honorable mention of him in his journal;
and there is abundant evidence that he continued to the end an
earnest, fearless, faithful preacher of the gospel, and his house
was a favorite stopping-place with the old Bishop. King was
present at the first Methodist Conference in North Carolina, con- -
vened at Green Hill’s, in Franklin county, one mile south of the
town of Louisburg, April 20, 1785. Coke and Asbury presided.
There is a family tradition that as he entered the room in
which the Conference had assembled, Dr. Coke, without a word
of salutation, called upon him to pray. Laying aside his saddle-
bags, he began his petition. He died while on a visit to New
Berne, in 1794, and was buried at his home in Wake county.
His children—six in number—were all members of the Method-
ist Church. Two of his sons, John and William, were Method-
ist preachers.*

Robert Strawbridge, both in order of time and talent and
service, stands at the head of the noble “irregulars” who found-
ed Arminian Methodism in America. Embury is worthy of
much honor, but the builder of the Log Meeting-house of more.
They were contemporaneous in arrival, but not in labor. Em-
bury was a gentle spirit, modest and diffident. His candle was
hid under a bushel for six years, and might have staid there

 

* These facts concerning John King are taken from “Sketches of the Pioneers
of Methodism in North Carolina,” by the Rev. M. H. Moore (1884), who had
access to family records. The descendants of John King are worthily represented
in the Methodist ministry and laity of Kentucky and Tennessee to this day. The
first Treasurer of Vanderbilt University, Dempsey Weaver, Esq., was connecte?
with a branch of the family.
The Log Meeting-house—John Street. 271

 

had not Barbara Heck taken it off, and compelled his feeble but
pure light to shine. His active period in New York extended
through three years, when he removed from the city. Not so
with Strawbridge: bold, prompt, zealous, he opened his house
for preaching so soon as he had a house, and went to saving souls;
and this employment he continued for twenty-one years. At his
death, in 1781, Societies had been formed in three States, and a
strong band of preachers had been raised up, who were going all
abroad with the glorious tidings.

The Bishops of the Methodist Episcopal Church in America,
giving a “brief account of the rise of Methodism” in their pref-
ace to the Discipline, in 1790, after alluding to the labors of Em-
bury, in a way that possibly intimates precedence, say that
“about the same time Robert Strawbridge, a local preacher from
Treland, settled in Frederick county, in the State of Maryland,
and preaching there, formed some Societies.” They further add
that “the first Methodist church was built in New York in 1768
or 1769.” The matter of fact involved was perhaps not consid-
ered of much importance, and an error as to the precedence of
the two men in forming Societies and building churches might
easily be made at the time this scrap of history was written.
Sam’s Creek, in Maryland, was not so conspicuous as John
Street, in New York, nor so often visited. The weakness and
wants of the latter gave it a place in history when an appeal was
made to the British Conference for men and money to help pay it
out and to preach. The Log Meeting-house rejoiced in freedom
from debt, and the fruitful ministry of its pastor had surrounded
him with helpers better adapted to the field than any he would
be likely to obtain abroad. Philip Gatch, William Watters, Ow-
en, Durbin, Freeborn Garretson, and Haggerty—brought forward
directly or indirectly by Strawbridge’s ministry—left him and his
people under no necessity of sending across the sea for men or
money. The very success of the Maryland planting of Method-
ism has caused it to be obscured in early records. By a most
respectable authority the following sentence is cast into the scale
of public opinion against the historic claim of the Log Meeting-
house: “This building, however, though sometimes spoken of as
the first Methodist church in Maryland, was never deeded to the
Church, and was never finished.” * Of course, if not the first in

 

% Simpson’s Cyclopedia of Methodism: Article, “ Strawbridge.”
272 History of Methodism.

 

Maryland, it cannot be the first in America, and that settles the
claim of priority in favor of New York. But it might be asked,
When is a log meeting-house “finished?” This one served the
people, and multitudes heard the word of God, and were quick-
ened and saved. One shop was not “finished ” like the other,
but the work turned out is the proper test in comparing the
two. A bold spring gushing up from amid rough rocks is bet
ter for a water-supply than the trickling drops from a polished
marble font. As for its never being “deeded to the Church,” it
is enough to say, lots on John street were more valuable than
lots on Sam’s Creek. There was no danger of losing the Log
Meeting-house. No contest for title has ever been heard of.

Another author, who evidently is inclined to declare the
weight of historic testimony to be in favor of the priority of the
Log Meeting-house, explains the strange fact that nearly all the
books put Embury and John Street before Strawbridge and
Sam’s Creek: the case was not beyond controversy, and the un-
certainty was overcome “by balancing the importance of one
event against the priority of another.” *

Even if this unusual canon of historical research bé accepted,
by every token the Strawbridge church comes to the front. If any
notable preacher or layman was developed in the first generation
from what it has become popular to style the “cradle of Ameri-
can Methodism” (John Street), history fails to record the name.
But says an eminent historian: “Several preachers were rap-
idly raised up by Strawbridge in his travels in Baltimore and
Harford counties; Sater Stephenson, Nathan Perigo, Richard
Webster, and others; and many laymen, whose families have
been identified with the whole subsequent progress of Meth-
odism in their respective localities, if not in the nation gen-
erally.” And the Log Meeting-house was the beginning.

The Minutes of the first Conference (1773) show one thou-
sand one hundred and sixty members—the whole numerical
strength of Methodism in America; and of these five hundred
are in Maryland, one hundred in Virginia, and one hundred and
eighty in New York. In 1784, at the organization of Episcopal

 

* Daniel’s Illustrated History of Methodism, page 377. The Northern Division
of Episcopal Methodism celebrated 1866 as the centenary of the first Society and
first sermon; but the Southern Division took no part in the celebration.

{ Dr. Stevens’s History of the Methodist Episcopal Church, Vol. I.
The Pioneer Preachers and their Connerds: 273

 

Methodism, more than four-fifths of the fourteen thousand nine
hundred and eighty-three members were in Maryland and south
of Maryland. The prophecy of Israel upon Joseph has been
fulfilled in the history of the work begun by Strawbridge: “Jo-
seph is a fruitful bough, even a fruitful bough by a well, whose
branches run over the wall; the archers have sorely grieved him,
and shot at him, and hated him; but his bow abode in strength,
and the arms of his hands were made strong by the hands of the
mighty God of Jacob.” *

Freeborn Garretson relates his first interview with Straw-
bridge, showing that he was strong elsewhere as well as in the
pulpit. He knew how to make the fireside profitable:

He came to the house of a gentleman near where I lived to stay all night. I
had never heard him. preach; but as I had a great desire to be in company with a
person who had caused so much talk in the country, I went over and sat and heard
tim converse until nearly midnight; and when I retired it was with these thoughts
—I have never spent a few hours so agreeably in my life. He spent most of the
dime in explaining Scripture, and in giving interesting anecdotes; and perhaps one
of them will do to relate here: A congregation came together in a certain place,
and # gentleman who was hearing thought that the preacher had directed his
whole sermon to him, and he retired home after the sermon in disgust. However,
ne concluded to hear him once more, and hide himself behind the people, so that
the preacher should not see him; it was the old story—his character was deline-
ated. He retired dejected; but concluded that possibly the preacher saw him, and
said, “I will try him once more;” he did so, and hid himself behind the door.
Ihe preacher took for his text, “And a man shall be as a hiding-place,” etc. In
she midst of the sermon, the preacher cried out, “Sinner, come from your scouting-
ole!” The poor fellow came forward, looked the preacher in the face, and said,
“You are a wizard, and the devil is in you; I will hear you no more.”

The original log-house gave way to a better-built one, three
miles south-oast, on Pipe Creek; the substitute or successor was
called Poulsun Chapel, built in 1783. Of all the costly temples
built for the worship of God, since that day, by the Methodists,
none may compare with that original, of log walls and board
cover and puncheon seats. And yet, if they had continued in it
after they were able to build better, the blessing of God would

 

*Jn 1784 the total number of Methodists in the United States, except itiner-
auts, was 14,983, of whom 13,331 were in the Southern States; and of the 66
chapels built, 56 were in the Southern States. In 1800 the total number wag
63,958, of whom 45,282 were in the Southern States. In 1812 the total number was
195,357, with 122,561 in the Southern States. In 1820 the total number was 260.
275, and of these 133,004 were in the Southern States.

18
274 History of Methodism.

 

not have continued with them. In 1800 the stone church
now standing took the place of Poulson Chapel.* Here, in 1801,
Bishops Asbury and Whatcoat held a Conference. Not a few of
the pioneer settlers were alive, and Asbury had means of correct
information on local history. We quote from his journal (Vol.
IIL, page 27): ;

April 29. Wednesday we had a large assembly at Goshen meeting-hn:ise
Prother Whatcoat preached. We came on that evening to Levin Warfield’s.

Thursday, 30. We arrived to dine at Alexander Warfield’s, on Sam’s Creck,
and pushed on to Henry Willis’s on Pipe Creek, where it had been our intention
to open Conference. We had about forty members present, and sat on Friday,
Saturday, and Monday. On Tuesday morning we rose. Our own people and our
friends in the settlement were equally kind; and we had rich entertainment. This

settlement of Pipe Creek is the richest in the State; here Mr. Strawbridge formed
the first Society in Maryland—and America,

The Italics are his own, and have the meaning of a maa
who, sure of his information, would put a doubtful question
to rest.

It is noteworthy that three of the heroic men who were first in
the history of American Methodism, had the usual overflow of
action and enterprise which brought their successors, represen{-
ing the reign of law and order, into conflict with them. King was
stentorian, and had a will of his own that put Wesley in doubt
of him. It required all that force for his triumphant march over
the difficulties he met, and in meeting which he made a glorious
record. Of the six “rules agreed to by all the preachers present.”
at the first Conference (1773), Thomas Rankin presiding, two
were leveled at Williams and two at Strawbridge. Indeed, about
half of the business done, besides stationing the ten preachers,
was in restraining the two grand and impetuous men, by whom

 

*A house which has figured largely in the establishment and perpetuation of
Methodism, now called the Stone Chapel, where I have often worshiped in my
youthful days;” so says our informant (C. A. W.), a son of Alexander Warfield
Rev. Wm. Hamilton, D.D., whose district embraced the Stone Chapel, and whe
had the best means of gathering information, in an article in the Methodist Quar
terly Review, July, 1856, fixes the date of Strawbridge’s arrival at Sam’s Creek
about 1759 or 1760, and the building of the log chapel, 1764. Dr. Geo. C. M.
Roberts, of Baltiravre, has collected information to the same effect. There is ev-
idence that Henry Maynard (born in 1757) was baptized “about four or five years
old” by Strawbridge, at the house of John Maynard, his father, one of Straw
bridge’s preaching-places.
Reprinting Wesley’s Books. 275

more than half of the work up to date had been performed. The
rules that have Williams in view read thus:

4, None of the preachers in America to reprint any of Mr. Wesley’s books,
without his authority (when it can be gotten) and the consent of their brethren.

5. Robert Williams to sell the books he has already printed, but to print no
more unless under the above restrictions,

What had he done? One of the best things possible for him
or any other man at the time to do. The best historian of
that day, Jesse Lee, says: “Previous to the formation of this
rule, Robert Williams had reprinted many of Mr. Wesley’s
books, and had spread them through the country, to the great
advantage of religion. The sermons, which he printed in
small pamphlets, had a very good effect, and gave the people
great light and understanding in the nature of the new birth and
in the plan of salvation; and, withal, they opened the way in
many places for our preachers to be invited to preach where they
had never been before.”

When Asbury first heard of Williams’s publishing enterprise
he “was somewhat troubled;” he feared that it had been done
“for the sake of gain,” and remarks in his journal: “This will
not do. It does by no means look well.”” He wrote to Wesley
on the subject, who, in reply, “enjoined that R. W. might not
print any more books without his consent.”

This is that same R. W. who had worried Wesley in Ireland
by preaching against the clergy, and whom he permitted to come
to the American field, but would not send him. Irrepressible
genius, who, having started with his saddle-bags and a bottle of
milk, was now doing what would have been worthy of incor-
porated capital to undertake. The matter came before the Con-
ference, and Williams shared the fate of the inventor of the steam
locomotive some years later. In recording his death, Asbury
puts in his discounting fear as well as his truthful eulogy. It
is a singular record in his journal (Vol. L., page 12):

June 26 [1775]. Brother W. died. The Lord does all things well; perhaps
Brother W. was in danger of being entangled in worldly business, and might there-
by have injured the cause of God. So he was taken away from the evil to come.

Thursday 28. I ventured to preach a funeral-sermon at the burial of Brother
W. He has been a very useful, laborious man, and the Lord gave him many seale

to his ministry. Perhaps no one in America has been an instrument of awaken
ing so many souls as God has awakened by him.
276 History of Methodism.

 

Men are seldom wise above their age. Asbury and the Confer-
ence feared that even in printing such tracts and books the greed
of gain and of getting rich might creep in among them. This
restraint on publishing books by itinerant ministers, without the
concurrence of their brethren, long survived in the Discipline,
because by the improper publications of accredited ministers the
Church was involved, in popular estimation, and discredited,
Besides, the connectional principle and economy were in view,
out of which grew the Book Concern. But when that undiscov-
ered grave is found in which “R. W.” sleeps, no monument that
can be raised over it will be too high or too honorable.

The other two rules, which look to Strawbridge, are:

1, Every preacher who acts in connection with Mr. Wesley and the brethren
who labor in America is strictly to avoid administering the ordinances of baptism

and the Lord’s Supper.
2. All the people among whom we labor to be earnestly exhorted to attend the
church, and to receive the ordinances there; but in a particular manner to press

’ the people in Maryland and Virginia to the observance of this minute.

Why single out these two States? Strawbridge’s sturdy inde-
pendence, as well as his flaming evangelism, was felt there. The
high-souled Irishman did not entertain the current English defer-
ence for the State-church. The Lord had called him to preach,
and had owned and honored his ministry by the conversion of
souls, and he could not see it to be his duty to send them to card-
playing and dram-drinking parsons in order to have their chil-
dren baptized, and to receive the Lord’s Supper—parsons whose
only claim to superiority was that the hands of an English bish-
op had been on their heads. In the Log Meeting-house and
elsewhere he gave the sacraments to the people whom the Lord
had given to him, and baptized their children. To an order or
rule regulating among the American Methodist ministry the
administration of the ordinances, defining who should and who
should not be authorized to administer, and laying down the
laws of ministerial gradation and promotion, Strawbridge would
doubtless have bowed; but he felt under no obligation to that
general self-denying ordinance which English Methodists had im-
posed on themselves. There is a note in Asbury’s journal to the
following effect: ‘That no preacher in our Connection shall be
permitted to administer the ordinances, except Mr. Strawbridge,
and he under the particular direction of the assistant ” (Rankin).
Asbury and Strawbridge. ° a7

 

“A concession so singular,” says Dr. Abel Stevens, “shows the
extraordinary consideration in which Strawbridge was held, the
influence he had obtained over the Societies in Maryland and
Virginia; perhaps also the conscious necessity of the independent
administration of the sacraments in that chief field of the de-
nomination.” But great as was this concession, it did not meet
Strawbridge’s view. Asbury says: “I read a part of our Min.
utes, to see if Brother Strawbridge would conform, but he ap-
peared io be inflexible.”

Asbury’s prejudice against Strawbridge for his Hibernian in-
dependence in the sacramental controversy continued to the sast
“He is no more!” lamented the good Asbury; “he is no more;
upon the whole I am inclined to think the Lord took him
away in judgment, because he was in a way to do hurt to his
cause, and that he saved him in mercy, because from his death-
bed conversation he appears to have had hope in his end.” Rich-
ard Owen, who knew him better, had no doubt about his end.
He proclaimed over the coffin: “I heard a voice from heaven
saying unto me, Write: Blessed are the dead which die in the
Lord from henceforth: Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest
from their labors, and their works do follow them.”

We find his name in the Minutes of 1773 and of 1775; then it
disappears, without note or comment. Probably he could not
bear the rule of Boardman, Asbury, and Rankin, who in turn
were Superintendents; conscious as he was of the greatness of
his mission, and seeing no future for Methodism on the line of
policy, touching the ordinances, represented by them. There is no
doubt that the influence which went out from Strawbridge has-
tened the action of Wesley, and strengthened him as to its neces-
sity, when regular and satisfactory provision was at length made
for organizing the Methodist Episcopal Church in America.

Strawbridge was impatient; he could not wait, for he saw
no prospect of relief on the English plan. In his last days
he was provided for. An opulent and generous citizen of
Baltimore county, who admired his character and sympathized
with his poverty, gave him a farm free of rent for life. It was
while residing here, “under the shadow of Hampton,” his ben-
efactor’s mansion, that in “one of his visiting rounds to his spir-
itual children he was taken sick, and died in great peace.”
Richard Owen preached his funeral-sermon in the open air. to a

§
278 History of Methodism.

 

great throng, “under a tree at the north-west corner of the
house.’ The hymn is preserved which they sang as they laid
the noble emigrant from the banks of the Shannon to sleep:
How blest is our brother, bereft ,
Of all that conld burden his mind!

How easy the soul that has left
The wearisome body behind!

The historian of the event adds: “His grave and also the grave
of Mrs. Strawbridge are in the small burying-ground in the or-
chard, south of the house perhaps some hundred yards. The
graves are together, about the center of the ground, and as if
nature were reproving the neglect of the Church, she has raised
up a large poplar-tree between them as a living monument of
their worth. Standing on the spot, and looking southward a dis-
tance of six or seven miles, the eye rests on Baltimore.”
CHAPTER XXII.

The New Circuit— Eight Missionaries Sent to It—What Became of Them—The
War—Asbury Alone Left—The two Blunders—Wesley’s Calm Address.

NEW circuit appears on the list at the Twenty-seventh An-

nual Conference, held in London, 1770: “No. 50-—Ameri-
ca.” The Western Continent stands there in the Minutes as one
circuit; and the preachers are Boardman and Pilmoor, who having
gone out since the last session, had sent back a good report. They
landed at Philadelphia after a nine weeks’ voyage, and entered at
once upon their business. Pilmoor was educated at Kingswood
School, and had been in the itinerancy four years. Soon after his
arrival, he wrote to Wesley:

We were not a little surprised to find Captain Webb in town, and a society of
about a hundred members, who desire to be in close connection with you. This is
the Lord’s doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes. I have preached several times,
and the people flock to hear in multitudes. Sunday night I went out upon the
common. I had the stage appointed for the horse-race for my pulpit, and I think
between four and five thousand hearers, who heard with attention still as night.
Blessed be God for field-preaching! When I began to talk of preaching at five
o'clock in the morning, the people thought it would not answer in America; how-.
ever, I resolved to try, and had a very good congregation.

Whitefield had been along there, and the people were used to
field-preaching; and the reproach of Methodism had in a meas-
ure been taken away. Boardman was an amiable and holy man,
and he, too, found the way partially prepared for him. Leaving
his colleague to serve Philadelphia, he went to New York, and
thence reported to head-quarters:

Coming to a large town on my way, and seeing a barrack, I asked a soldier if
there were any Methodists belonging to it. “O yes,” said he, “we are all Meth-
odists; that is, we should all be glad to hear a Methodist preach.” “Well,” said
I, “tell them in the barrack that a Methodist preacher, just come from England,
intends to preach here to-night.” He did so; and the inn was soon surrounded
with soldiers. I asked, “Where do you think I can get a place to preach in?” (it
being then dark). One of them said, “I will go and see if I can get the Presby-
terian meeting-house.” He did so; and soon returned to tell me he had prevailed,
and that the bell was just going to ring to let all the town know. A great compa-
ny soon got together, and seemed muck. affected.

Between these two cities the missionaries spent their time, fre-
quently interchanging. “Brother Boardman and I,” writes Pil.

(279)
280 History of Methodism.

 

moor, “are chiefly confined to the cities, and therefore cannot, at
present, go much into the country, as we have more work upon
our hands than we are able to perform.”

In the fall of 1771, Asbury and Wright arrived and were joy-
fully received. A year later, Asbury was appointed Wesley’s
“General Assistant” in America, in place of Boardman. In June,
1773, Thomas Rankin and George Shadford came under convoy
of Captain Webb. The former having seen more service, and
coming fresh from the British Conference, with instructions for
carrying on the work, superseded Asbury in office. Late in 1774
other laborers were added, Martin Rodda and James Demp-
ster, whose story is soon told.

Thus had the American Circuit been supplied, in the course
of six years, with eight preachers, drawn from the mother Con-
ference. The war between the Colonies and the mother country,
put an end to further supplies from that quarter; and it was nine
years before such intercourse was resumed. How these men ac-
quitted themselves, and how the cause prospered under them and
others who were raised up to help them, will be considered.

As is generally the case, mistakes occurred in the choice of
some of the missionaries. The best are not always to be had for
a distant and difficult field; and the actual situation may develop
an unfitness that no sagacity of the appointing power can fore-
see. The irregulars who preceded them, “on their own account,”
were lively, full of resources, and not easily daunted by dangers
and difficulties. But atleast half of the eight sent over in the reg-
ular way did not turn out to be “chosen vessels.” The law of nat-
ural and spiritual selection is a mystery that eludes the wisest.
Tf out of the family of Jesse, with eight sons, we get one David
-—it is well. If one Asbury or one Shadford is found in all who
ciossed and recrossed the Atlantic to evangelize America, the out-
lay is well repaid, and we ought to be thankful.

Dempster, a native of Edinburgh, was educated at that univer-
sity. He was, like Rankin, one of the few Scotchmen who found
their way into a Methodist Conference. Wesley never had much
success in Scotland. He found “the generality of the people so
wise that they needed no more knowledge, and so good that they
needed no more religion;” a people, “the greatest part of whom
hear much, know every thing, and feel nothing.” Now and then
he got a preacher from among them, and such was James Demp-
The Laborers in the New Circuit. 281

 

ster, who had been ten years an itinerant. Soon after coming to
America, he connected himself with the Presbyterians, and lived
and died with them. One of his sons became an eminent Method-
ist minister.* In less than two years Rodda fled the country, be-
cause, as a royalist, he engaged in spreading the king’s proclama-
tion through his circuit in Delaware. Aided by slaves, he escaped
to the British fleet, and returned. His conduct was a cause of
trouble to his brethren who were left behind him, both preachers
and people. He continued in the itinerancy in England three or
four years, and then no more is seen of him.

Wright, after spending a year or two in the Southern provinces
-—part of the time in Norfolk—early in the year 1774 returned
to England, by the advice of his brethren. After his return he
continued in the Wesleyan itinerancy a few years, and then de-
sisted from traveling. Boardman’s letter from New York shows
the spirit in which he prosecuted his work:

It pleases God to carry on his work amongst us. Within this month we have
had a great awakening here. Many begin to believe the report, and to some the
arm of the Lord is revealed. This last month we have had near thirty added to
the Society, five of whom have received a clear sense of the pardoning love of God.
We have in this city some of the best preachers (both in the English and Dutch
churches) that are in America. Yet God works by whom he will work. I have
lately been comforted by the death of some poor negroes, who have gone off the
stage of time rejoicing in the God of their salvation.

The war approaching, he and his colleague left in 1774; and
we trace his continued history in the Minutes for eight years,
when the first American “Assistant” died suddenly in Ireland,
and was carried by devout men of Cork, with mourning, to his
burial. Pilmoor’s subsequent career was checkered. Wesley
failed to name him as one of the legal hundred in the “ Deed ot
Declaration” registered in 1784; and in making up an episcopal
government for America did not call for his services. He quit the
Connection, returned to America, took orders in the Protestant
Episcopal Church, and was rector of a church in New York, and
later in Philadelphia. He became a Doctor of Divinity, had
a love for Methodism to the last, and to the end of his long life
subscribed to the Old Preachers’ Fund. At the Conference of
1804, in John Street Church, says Wakely, a tall, dignified old gen..
tleman came into the house, and walked to where Bishop Asbury
was sitting. Asbury arose, shook hands with him, and then, in

 

*Dr. Dempster, who founded Biblical schools in Concord and in Evanston,
282 History of Methodism.

 

his own way, said, as he introduced him to the Conference, “ This
is Brother Pilmoor, who used to preach in this pulpit under the
direction of Mr. Wesley.” Pilmoor seemed a little embarrassed,
and, bowed respectfully, paid his annual subscription to the
Preachers’ Fund, and retired. It was a pity he left the Church
of his early choice, as he had the heart and soul of a Methodist
preacher, and much of the fire of the primitive itinerancy. The
evangelical spirit produced through his instrumentality in the
congregations over which he presided, and a correspondent atten-
tion to some of the peculiar means of grace which he introduced
among them, continued to manifest themselves for a number of
years after his death.

Thomas Rankin was a native of Dunbar. He had spent much
time as the traveling companion of Wesley, and therefore came
to America well acquainted with the doctrine and discipline which
were to be taught and enforced. His awakening and conversion
recalls the fact that, in the marching and countermarching of
armies, primitive Methodism was spread by converted soldiers.
Thus was it planted at Gibraltar and other points on the Conti-
neut, Rankin’s experience is connected with this strange means
of gospel propagandism:

A troop of dragoons came to Dunbar; among whom were ten or twelve pious
men. As soon as they were settled in the place, they hired a room, and met to-
gether for prayer and hearing the word of God every morning and evening. 1
did not know then, but I have been informed since, that those men were part of
the religious soldiers who used to meet with John Haime (the Methodist lay
preacher) and others, in Germany: The news of soldiers meeting for prayer and
praise, and reading the word of God, soon spread through the town; curiosity led
many to attend their meetings, and I was one of that number. It pleased God to
carry on the work of his grace in the souls of those in whom it was begun, and
their number increased; so that a Society was formed, and class-meetings were es-
tablished. - At that time I did not understand the nature of class-meetings; and

therefore was ready to listen to the foolish talking of those who said, “The soldiera
had pardoned such and such a one, after they had confessed their sins to them.”

He was now in condition to listen to an embassador of God,
whom hitherto, through prejudice, he had declined to hear. “It
was about this time that I first heard that eminent servant of
the Lord Jesus, Mr. George Whitefield. He was preaching his
farewell sermon in the Orphan-house yard, in Edinburgh. Ihad
often before had thoughts of hearing him, but so many things
bad been said to me of him that I was afraid I should he de-
Thomas Rankin’s Experience. 283

 

ceived. I heard him with wonder and surprise, and had such a
discovery of the plan of salvation as I had never known before.
I remembered more of that sermon than of all the sermons I ever
had heard; and had a discovery of the unsearchable riches of the
grace of God in Christ Jesus, as also how a lost sinner was to
come to God, and obtain mercy through the Redeemer.” How
he reached a clear conversion, he shall tell:

It was suggested to me: “Probably you are not one of the elect; and you may
seek, and seek in vain.” I tasted no pleasant food, my sleep departed from me,
and my flesh wasted from my bones; till at last I sunk into despair. One morn-
ing I went into the garden, and sat down in a retired place, to mourn over my sad
condition. { pegan to wrestle with God in an agony of prayer. I called out:
“ord, I have wrestled long, and have not yet prevailed; O let me now prevail!”
The whole passage of Jacob’s wrestling with the angel came into my mind; and
I called out aloud, “I will not let thee go, unless thou bless me!” In a moment
the cloud burst, and tears of love flowed from my eyes; when these words were ap-
plied to my soul, many times over, “And he blessed him there.” They came with
the Holy Ghost, and with much assurance; and my whole soul was overwhelmed
with the presence of God. Every doubt of my acceptance was now gone, and all
my fears fled away as the morning shades before the rising sun. I had the most
distinct testimony that all my sins were forgiven through the blood of the cove-
nant, and that I was a child of God, and an heir of eternal glory.

An interview of Thomas Rankin with Wesley ended by his send-
ing him to a circuit to try him, and soon his call to preach was as
clear to him as his conversion. Rankin came to America to set
things in order, and to him belongs the distinction of convening
and presiding over the first Annual Conference.* The work of
stationing the preachers and regulating the Societies had here-
tofore been done at Quarterly Conferences. He was not equal
to the man whom he superseded at any point except it be that
of personal piety. The largeness of things in the Old World
made him unable to appreciate the day of small things in the
New. His journal constantly reveals disappointment:

Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, we had our first little Conference There
were present seven preachers, besides Brothers Boardman and Pilmoor, who were
to return to England. The amount of all the members in the different Societies

did not exceed one thousand one hundred and sixty. From the wonderfu ac-
counts I had heard in England, and during our passage, I was led to think there

 

* The list of appointments of the Conference held in Ph‘ldelphia, July 14, 1773: « New York,
Thomas Rankin (to change in four months); Philadelphia, George Shadford (to change in four
months); New Jersey, John King, William Watters; Baltimore, Francis Asbury, Robert Straw-
bridge, Abraham Whitworth, Joseph Yearbry; Norfolk, Richard Wright; Petershurg, Robert
Williams,
284 History of Methodism.

 

moust be some thousands awakened, and joined as members of our Societies; but I
was now convinced of the real truth. Some of the above number I also found,
afterward, were not closely united to us. Indeed, our discipline was not properly
attended to, except at Philadelphia and New York; and even in those places it
was upon a decline.

Next year the Annual Conference again met in Philadelphia:
“May 25 [1774].—Our little Conference began, and ended on Fri-
day, the 27th. We proceeded in all things on the same plan as in
England, which our Minutes will declare. Every thing considered,
we had reason to bless God for what he had done in about ten
months. Above a thousand members are added to the Societies,
and most of these have found peace with God. We had now
more than seventeen preachers.”

And next year, we have a similar entry: “May 16.—The
preachers came together from their different circuits, and next
day we began our little Conference. We wanted all the advice
and light we could obtain, respecting our conduct in the present
critical situation of affairs. We had abundant reason to bless
God for the increase of his work last year. We had above a
thousand added to the different Societies, and they had increased
to ten circuits. Our joy in God would have been abundantly
more, had it not been for the preparations of war that now rung
throughout this city [Philadelphia ].”

Nothing seemed to come up to his expectations, but our rivers:
“'The River Delaware, and Hudson’s River, as well as the Sus-
quehanna, are grand sights. If I had not crossed several large
rivers before, I should have been surprised in crossing the Sus-
quehanna. Where we crossed, I believe it was eight times
broader than the River Thames at London bridge.”

Stationed in New York and Philadelphia, he faithfully kept up
the custom of preaching early in the morning of Sunday and in
the evening, and attending “church” at midday, for hearing and
receiving: “Sunday 26.—I preached in the morning at seven, and
in the evening at the usual time. I found more liberty in the
morning than I expected. After breakfast I went to St. Paul’s,
as I always have done, to public worship.”

Like entries may be found in the journal of Asbury. When
he was in New York, he says: “Lord’s-day, 18.—I preached this
morning to a considerable number of people. Mr. R. found his
spirits raised, and was much comforted. In the afternoon Mr.
George Shadford. 285

 

R{ankin], Captain W[ebb], and myself, went to St. Paul’s Church,
and received the sacrament. At night Mr. R. dispensed the word
of truth with power. It reached the hearts of many, and they
appeared to be much quickened.”

When Rankin informed Asbury by letter of his purpose to re-
turn to England, the latter records his own purpose:

But I can by no means agree to leave such a field for gathering souls to Christ
s we have in America. It would be an eternal dishonor to the Methodists, tha’
we should all leave three thousand souls, who desire to commit themselves to ow
care; neither is it the part of a good shepherd to leave his flock in time of danger;
therefore, I am determined, by the grace of God, not to leave them, let the ccnse-
quence be what it may. Our friends here appear to be distressed above measure
at the thoughts of being forsaken by the preachers. So I wrote my sentiments
both to Mr. T. R. and Mr. G. 8.

George Shadford was to Asbury as Jonathan to David. “So
we are left alone,” he writes to G.S., after Rankin sailed in 1777.
T. R. was useful in the London and other circuits, and died at a
good old age, peacefully and with the love of his brethren. There
are evidences in Wesley’s correspondence that T. R. had mado
representations. to him not favorable to Asbury; indeed his recall
from the American field had once been definitely determined on
as the result. By losing Rankin, Ashury was saved to the new
Republic which was struggling into existence. It was Asbury s
misfortune as long as Wesley lived to be misrepresented to him
by weak but well-meaning men whom he overshadowed, or by
designing men whom he overruled. To the credit of Wesley’s
sagacity, notwithstanding the difficulty of obtaining correct in-
formation, “honest Francis Asbury” stood at the top with him, to
the last.

George Shadford was born in Lincolnshire, 1739. His mother
insisted on his saying his prayers every night and morning, at
least; and sent him to be catechised by the minister every Sun-
day. At fourteen years of age his parents sent him to the bishop
to be confirmed; and at sixteen they desired him to prepare tc
receive the sacrament. “For about a month before it,” he says,
“J retired from all vain company, prayed, and read alone; while
the Spirit of God set home what I read to my heart. I wept
much in secret, was ashamed of my past life, and thought 1
would never spend my time on Sundays as I had done. When
I approached the table of the Lord, it appeared so awful to me
that I was likely to fall down, as if I was going to the judgment.
286 History of Methodism.

 

seat of Christ. However, very soon my heart was melted down
like wax before the fire. These good impressions continued about
three months. So that I verily believe, had I been acquainted
with the Methodists at that time, I should have soon found re-
mission of sins, and peace with God. But I had not a single
companion that feared God; all were light and trifling. Having
none to guide or direct me, the devil soon persuaded me to take
more liberty; and suggested that I had repented and reformed
enough; that there was no need to be always so precise.” He
joined the militia, and, between the strivings of the Spirit and
the wickedness of the camp, became very miserable:

I was often tempted this year to put an end to my life; for it was a year of sin-
ning, and a year of misery. I was afraid to stand by a deep river, lest I should
throw myself in. If I was on the edge of a great rock, I trembled, and thought
I must cast myself down, and therefore was obliged to retreat suddenly. When I
have been in the front gallery at church, I have many times been forced to with-
draw backward, being horribly tempted to cast myself down headlong. It seemed
as if Satan was permitted to wreak his malice upon me in an uncommon manner;
but I was wonderfully preserved by an invisible hand, in the midst of such dread-
ful temptations. At other times, when at prayer, or walking alone meditating,
God hath graciously given me to taste of the powers of the world to come.

Near the military encampment, the Methodists held an out-
door service; and without any good design, he and his compan-
ions went to see and hear:

I was much struck with his manner. He took out his hymn-book, and the peo-
ple sung a hymn. After this he began to pray extempore in such a manner as I
had never been used to. I thought it to be a most excellent prayer. After this
he took his little Bible out of his pocket, read over his text, and put it into his
pocket again. I marveled at this, and thought within myself, “Will he preach
without a book too?” He began immediately to open the Scriptures; and com-
pared spiritual things with spiritual, in such a light as I had never heard before.
I did not suppose that he had studied either at Oxford or Cambridge; but some-
thing struck me, “This is the gift of God; this is the gift of God.” The preacher
spoke much against drunkenness, swearing, etc.; but I thought I was not much
guilty of such sins. At ‘ast he spoke very closely against pleasure-takers, and
proved that such were dead while they live. I thought, “If what he says be true,
I am in a most dreadful condition.” I thought again, “This must be true; for he
proves it from the word of God.” Immediately I found a kind of judgment-seat
get up in my conscience, where I was tried, cast, and condemned; for I knew I had
been seeking happiness in the pleasures of the world all my days, not in the Cre-
ator and Redeemer of my soul. I revolved over and over what I had heard, as 1
went from the preaching; and resolved, “If this be Methodist preaching, I wili
tome again;” for I received more light from that single sermon than from all I
ever heard in my life before.
Bringing Souls to Christ. 287

 

When his enlistment as a soldier expired he returned home.
“T have looked upon it as a kind providence that brought a Meth-
odist farmer to the place of my nativity, while I was absent in
the militia, who received the Methodist preachers, and had formed
a little Society just ready for me when I got home.” His conver-
sion soon followed, for the farmer, one Sunday, gave notice as
the people were leaving the “church,” where the “ minister” had
discoursed, that a Methodist would preach in a meeting-house
that evening, and Shadford went.

We had a full house, and several were greatly affected while he published his
crucified Master. Toward the latter part of the sermon J trembled; I shook; I
wept. I thought: “I cannot stand it; I shall fall down amidst all this people.”
O how gladly would I have been alone to weep! for I was tempted with shame.
I stood guilty and condemned, like the publican in the temple. I cried out (so
that others might hear, being pierced to the heart with the sword of the Spirit),
“God be merciful to me a sinner!” No sooner had I expressed these words, but
by the eye of faith (not with my bodily eyes) I saw Christ, my Advocate, at the
right-hand of God, making intercession for me. I believed he loved me, and gave
himself for me. The Lord filled my soul with divine love, as quick as lightning;
so suddenly did the Lord, whom I sought, come to his temple. Immediately nay
eyes flowed with tears, and my heart with love. Tears of joy and sorrow ran
mingled down my cheeks. O what sweet distress was this! I seemed as if I could
weep my life away in tears of love.

Class-meeting led him out into social and public praye:, und
soon he was an exhorter, trying to bring souls to Christ. But his
greatest concern was for his father and mother, sister and broth-
er, all strangers to God. He prayed for them, and: must pray
with them. ‘One night,” says he, “I took courage to speak to
them, in as humble a manner as I could, with respect to family
prayer. I told them I believed they had brought us up in the
fear of God as far as they knew; but we never had any family
prayer. I added, ‘If it is agreeable to you, I will endeavor tc
pray in the best manner I can.’ On their consenting, we went
into another room. I had not spoken many words in prayer be-
fore they were both in tears. So merciful was the Lord to my
family that four of them were brought to God in a year.”

Shadford was preaching in Yorkshire when he heard that his
father was dying and hastened to his bedside: “He said to me:
‘Son, Iam glad to see thee; but I am going to leave thee; I am
going to God; I am going to heaven.’ I said, ‘Father, are you
sure of it?’ ‘Yes,’ said he, ‘I am sure of it. I know that my
Redeemer liveth. Upward of four years ago the Lord pardoned
288 History of Methodism.

 

all my sins; and half a year ago he gave me that perfect love
that casts out all fear. At present I feel a heaven within me.
Surely this heaven below must lead to that heaven above.’ ”
The Lord having owned his labors as an exhorter and local
preacher, Wesley came into that part of the country and asked
him if he was willing to give himself up wholly to the great work
of saving souls from death. “TI replied that it was my desire so
‘odo. Accordingly, at the Bristol Conference following, I was
appointed to labor in the west of Cornwall for the year 1768.
This was a good year to me.” Every year was a good year
where George Shadford labored; and it was a good thing for the
American Circuit when he was sent to it in 1773. To its loss,
he did not abide on this side the Atlantic. His labors were blessed
in New York and Philadelphia, and in Delaware, but especially
in Virginia, for the country suited -him better than the towns.
At this last appointment he was much dejected; but he continues:

I often felt much of this before a remarkable manifestation of the power and
presence of God. In preaching and prayer the Lord strips and empties before he
fills. I saw myself so vile and worthless as I cannot express; and wondered that
God should employ me in his work. J was amazed when I first began to preach in
Virginia; for I seldom preached a sermon but some were convinced and converted,
often three ~ four at a time. I could scarcely believe them when they told me.

Once, roming to a stream he found the flood too high for him
to reach the bridge. Going back half a mile to a planter’s house,
he was granted lodgings; man and wife and children and servants
allignorant of God. “If you will send out and gather the neigh-
bors, I will preach.” The congregation were at first like wild-
boars for roughness, but were subdued to tolerable order. Next
day the man showed him across the stream, and went to his ap-
pointment with him, and wept under the sermon, and made him
promise to preach again at his house. “In a short time,” says
Shadford, “he and his wife became deep penitents, and soundly
converted by the power of God. A very remarkable work began
from that little circumstance; and before I left Virginia, there
were sixty or seventy raised up in Society in that settlement.
There were four traveling preachers that year in the circuit
[Brunswick]. We added eighteen hundred members.”

By 1778 the pressure became intolerable. Shadford had an
interview with Asbury, and by prayer and fasting they sought to
know the will of God, whether to leave America or not. Shad-
The Revolutionary War. 289

 

ford said he was impressed that his mission here was at an end,
and that he ought to go. “There must be something wrong,”
said Asbury, “for my conviction is just the opposite, that I ought
to stay.” “Nothing wrong,” said Shadtord, “You may be called
to stay, and I may be called to go.” They wept in each other’s
arms and parted; and so Asbury alone was left of all the preach
ers sent out from England.

Shadford resumed the circuit in England. The unction never
departed from him. He began his ministry like Gideon, asking
for sign upon sign; but the way of duty being plain, his consecra-
tion was complete, his path grew brighter and brighter, and at the
end he triumphed gloriously. After becoming supernumerary,
he had a hundred souls under his care as a class-leader. At an
inspection of them by Jabez Bunting, it was found that “mora
than ninety were clear in their Christian experience, and many
of them were living in the enjoyment of the perfect love of God.”
He found a good wife in his latter years, and had a competent
livelihood. Afflicted in old age with blindness, he was restored
to sight by a surgical operation. “You will have the pleasure,”
said the surgeon, “of seeing to use your knife and fork again.”
“Doctor,” he replied, “I shall have a greater pleasure, that of
sceing to read my Bible;” and the first use of his restored sight
was to read the sacred pages—reading and weeping with inex-
pressible joy. At the age of seventy-eight, when informed by
his physician that the disease under which he was then suffering
would be fatal, “he broke out in rapture, exclaiming, ‘Glory to
God!’” “While he lay in view of an eternal world, and was
asked if all was clear before him, he replied, ‘I bless God it is;’
and added, ‘ Victory, victory, through the blood of the Lamb!’”

The situation of Asbury and his companions, at the breaking
out of the Revolutionary War, was sufficiently embarrassing, even
in the absence of any provocation beyond their nationality and
their spiritual vocation. The enmity which their doctrine
excited, among bigoted sectaries and sinners, would be sure
to make a sinister use of the fact that they were citizens of a
forcign nation with which America was engaged in an unequal
and desperate struggle. However prudent and blameless in con-
duct, they nevertheless must have been at a serions disadvantage
in pursuing the itinerant ministry. But it was by the hand of Wes-
ley himself—strangely pe the heaviest disability wae

19
290) History of Methodism.

 

laid upon them. The British Government needed to propitiate
public opinion to the course it was pursuing toward the Colonios,
and for this purpose Dr. Samuel Johnson wrote his famous po-
litical tract, “Taxation no Tyranny.” Wesley, with but a slight
abridgment, adopted it, and issued his “Calm Address to the
American Colonies” in the fall of 1775. It raised a storm about
his ears; for a considerable party at home believed the Americans
were just in their cause. Wesley’s enemies, who had been worsted
in the recent Calvinistic controversy, flew upon him furiously.
Their charge of plagiarism was not without color, unless, as has
been suggested, a mutual understanding existed between Johnson
and himself. In a letter to Wesley, dated February 6, 1776,
Johnson wrote: “I have thanks to return for the addition of your
important suffrage to my argument on the American question.
To have gained such a mind as yours may justly confirm me in
my own opinion. What effect my paper has had upon the pub-
lic I know not; but I have no reason to be discouraged. The lect-
urer was surely in the right who, though he saw his audience
slinking away, refused to quit the chair while Plato staid.”

Ali this fell very heavily upon those least able to bear it—the
Wesleyan preachers and people in America. It may be said, in
mitigation, that before this “Address to the Colonies,” dissuading_
them from fighting for their cause and their grievances, Wesley
had addressed a letter, in June, to Lord North, the Premier, and
sent a copy of it to Dartmouth, the Colonial Secretary, dissuad-
ing them from war. We give an extract from this bold paper—--
this plea for peace with those who were able to make peace:

But waiving this, waiving all considerations of right and wrong, I ask, Is it com-
mon sense to use force toward the Americans? A letter now before me, which I
reveived yesterday, says, “Four hundred of the regulars and forty of the militia
were killed in the late skirmish”” What a disproportion is this! And this is the
first essay of raw men against regular troops. You see, my lord, whatever has
been affirmed, these men will not be frightened; and it seems they will not be con
quered so easily as was at first imagined. They will probably dispute every inch
of ground, and, if they die, die sword in hand. Indeed, some of our valiant offi-
vers say, “Two thousand men will clear America of these rebels.” No, nor twenty
thousand, be they rebels or not, nor perhaps treble that number. They are a
strong men as you; they are as valiant as you, if not abundantly more valiant, for
they are one and all enthusiasts—enthusiasts for liberty. They are calm, delib-
erate enthusiasts; and we know how this principle breathes into softer souls stern
love of war, and thirst of vengeance, and contempt of death. Weknow that men,
animated with this spirit, will leap + ‘a fire, or rush into a cannon’s mouth.
Wesley Dipping into Politics. 291

 

“But they are divided amongst themselves.” So you are informed by various
letters and memorials. So, doubt not, was poor Rehoboam informed concerning
the ten tribes. So, nearer our own times, was Philip informed concerning the peo=
ple of the Netherlands. No, my lord, they are terribly united. The bulk of the
people are so united that to speak a word in favor of the present English measures
would almost endanger a man’s life. Those who informed me of this, one of whom
was with me last week, lately come from Philadelphia, are no sycophants; they
ray nothing to curry favor; they have nothing to gain or lose by me. But they
speak with sorrow of heart what they have seen with their own eyes, and heard
with their own ears.

These men think, one and all, be it right or wrong, that they are contending ,
nro aris et focis; for their wives, children, and liberty. What an advantage have
they herein over many that fight only for pay! none of whom care a straw for the
cause wherein they are engaged; most of whom strongly disapprove of it. Have
‘they not another considerable advantage? Is there occasion td recruit the troops?
Their supplies are at hand, and all round about them. Ours are three thousand
miles off! Are we then able to conquer the Americans, suppose they are left to
themselves? Suppose all our neighbors should stand stock-still, and leave us and
them to fight it out? But we are not sure of this.*

This long anc. powerful letter reads like a history, rather than
a prophecy, of the event. If there had been an ocean cable in
that day, Lord North would hardly have consigned Wesley’s
letter to the official pigeon-hole before a dispatch reached him
giving the details of the battle of Bunker Hill. Wesley was
in possessior of information on the whole subject which few
men had. If he must interfere in a matter of so great moment—
if, having the public ear, he must speak on the impending issue—
then he is seen laying one hand on the arm of the Government,
warning the men in power not to begin war, and holding out the
other hand to the Colonies, pleading with them not to provoke
war. Neither party took his advice. The extreme infelicity of
the case was that, while the Letter to Lord North lay in the State
archives for nearly a century—its very existence unknown except
to the Premier and the Colonial Secretary—the “Address to the
Colonies’ was published by tens of thousands of copies, and fell
with stunning weight upon the missionaries in America. Writ-

 

*The public is indebted to George Smith, F.A.S., author of the History ot
Wesleyan Methodism (1857), for a knowledge, though late, of this document
Speaking of the Letter to the Premier and the copy of it to Lord Dartmouth, he
says: “The latter still exists in Wesley’s handwriting; and the author was offered
asight of this document on his engaging not to publish it. This he respect-
fully declined; and afterward fortunately obtained a transcript of the one sent te
Lord North, with full liberty to print it.”
292 History of Methodism,

ing to them in March of the same year, how to behave in their
critical situation, he said: “It is your part to be peace-makers; to
be lov: ng and tender to all; but to addict yourselves to no party.
In spite of all solicitations, of rough or smooth words, say not
one word against one or the other side.” And in the same letter
he gave this opinion: “There is now a probability that God will
hear prayer, and turn the counsels of Ahithophel into foolish-
ness. I¢ is not unlikely that peace will be reéstablished between
England and the Colonies.”

That Methodism, known to be so closely associated with Wes-
ley, survived, is to be attributed to the divinity that was in it.
It had got.hold upon the people, and an able corps of native-born
preachers had been raised up to carry on the work that had been
begun. Looking at matters from a prudential point of view,
John Wesley made two huge and grievous blunders in his life:
Marrying hastily and meddling with politics.

Asbury, struggling patiently, bravely, heroically, to stand his
ground and save the cause, wrote in his journal in 1776: “I re-
ceived an affectionate letter from Mr. Wesley, and am truly sorry
that the venerable man ever dipped into the politics of America.
My desire is to live in love and peace with all men; to do them
no harm, but all the good I can.’ So fiercely the tempest raged
that he was compelled to seek a retreat with his faithful friend
Judge White, in Delaware, and to abide there, out of public la-
bor and public view, for over a year. The enforced retirement
was rich in study and devotion, and in labor within a limited
sphere. Their recognized and providential leader, he kept up a
communication with the preachers in all parts of the wide and
distracted field; and when the fiercest of the storm of persecution
was over, while war was yet raging, he came forth when it needed
him most to guide American Methodism on its important mis-
sion. Let thanks be given to Him who still “leadeth Joseph
like a flock.”

[The biographical facts of this Chapter are mainly drawn from Sanford’s Memoirs of
: Wesley’s Missionaries to America.]
CHAPTER XXIII.

Francis Asbury—His Preparation and Ministry—Troubles of Admiuistration—
Revival in the Old Brunswick Circuit—Devereux Jarratt—Tlie Preachers Called
Out—Watters, Dromgoole, Gatch, Bruce, Ellis, Ware, and their fellow-laborers.

4 RANCIS ASBURY was born of peasant parentage in Staf-
| fordshire, four miles from Birmingham, England, in 1745.
His parents had but two children, and the daughter dying in in-
fancy was the means of turning the mother to a religious life.
From his childhood Francis never “dared an oath or hazarded a
lie,” though he confesses himself not free from other sins of youth.
“The love of truth is not natural; but the habit of telling it,” he
says, “I acquired very early; and so well was I taught that my
conscience would never pérmit me to swear profanely. I learned
from my parents a certain form of words for prayer, and_I well
remember my mother strongly urged my father to family reading
and prayer; the singing of psalms was much practiced by them
both. ‘Sometimes I was much ridiculed, and called Methodist
parson, because my mother invited any people who had the ap-
pearance of religion to her house. I was sent to school early,
and began to read the Bible between six and seven years of age,
and greatly delighted in the historical part of it. My school-
master was a great churl, and used to beat me cruelly; this drove
me to prayer, and it appeared to me that God was very near to
me. My father, having but the one son, greatly desired to keep
me at school, he cared not how long.”

In this design, however, he was disappointed; for the cruelty
of the master gave the lad such a horror of school, he chose,
when thirteen years old, to be apprenticed to business, at which
he wrought six or seven years. He was awakened in his four-
teenth year by the conversation and prayers of a pious man, not
a Methodist, whom his mother invited to the humble hospitalities
ot her house:

I became very serious; reading a great deal—Whitefield and Cennick’s Ser.
mons, and every good book I could meet with. It was not long before I began to
inquire of my mother who, where, what were the Methodists; she gave me a favor-
able account, and directed me to a person that could take me to Wednesbury to hear
them. I soon found this was not the Church—but it was better. The people were
so devout—men and women kneeling down, saying, “Amen.” Now, behold! they

(293)
294 History of Methodism.

 

were singing hymns—sweet sound! Why, strange to tell, the preacher had no
prayer-book, and yet he prayed wonderfully! What was yet more extraordinary,
the man took his text, and had no sermon-book; thought I, This is wonderful in

deed! It is certainly a strange way, but the best way. He talked about conf-
dance, assurance, etc.—of which all my flights and hopes fell short. I had no
deep convictions, nor had I committed any deep knownsins. At one sermon, some
time after, my companion was powerfully wrought on; I was exceedingly grieved
that I could not weep like him: yet I knew myself to be in a state of unbelief.
On a certain time when we were praying in my father’s barn, I believe the Lord
pardoned my sins, and justified my soul; but my companions reasoned me out of -
this belief, saying, “Mr. Mather said a believer was as happy as if he was in
heaven.” JI thought I was not as happy as I would be there, and gave up my c 1
fidence, and that for months; yet I was happy; free from guilt and fear, and had
power over sin, and felt great inward joy. After this, we met for reading and
prayer, and had large and good meetings, and were much persecuted, until the
persons at whose houses we held them were afraid, and they were discontinued.
I then held meetings frequently at my father’s house, exhorting the people there,
as also at Sutton-Cofields, and several souls professed to find peace through my la-
bors. I met class awhile at Bromwick Heath, and met in band at Wednesbury.
I had preached some months before I publicly appeared in the Methodist meeting-
houses; ‘when my labors became more public and extensive, some were amazed,
not knowing how I had exercised elsewhere. Behold me now a local preacher;
the humble and willing servant of any and of every preacher that called on me
hy night or by day, being ready, with hasty steps, to go far and wide to do good,
visiting Derbyshire, Staffordshire, Warwickshire, Worcestershire, and indeed almost
every place within my reach, for the sake of precious souls; preaching generally
three, four, and five times a week, and at the same time pursuing my calling. J

think when I was between twenty-one and twenty-two years of age I gave myself
up to God and his work, after acting as a local preacher near the space of five
years.

From the region in which Methodism was planted with most
danger and difficulty, where the most furious mobs assailed
preachers and people, the Lord will draw out and anoint a chosen
vessel, to bear his name far hence, and give the hated doctrine to
a continent. It was no sudden impulse, no uncalculated conclu-
sion that brought Francis Asbury to our shores. He had been a
traveling preacher four or five years when he went up to the Con-
ference at Bristol in 1771. “Before this,” he says, “I had felt
for half a year strong intimations in my mind that I should visit
America; which I laid before the Lord, being unwilling to do
my own will, or to run before I was sent.”

Volunteers were called for, and five responded and two were
accepted. Asbury’s account is: “I spoke my mind, and made an
ofier of myself. It was accepted by Mr. Wesley and others, wlio
judged I had acall. From Bristol I went home to acquaint nv
Asbury’s Coming to the New World. 295

 

parents with my great undertaking, which I opened in as gentle a
manner as possible. Though it was grievous to flesh and blood,
they consented to let me go. My mother is one of the tenderest
parents-in the world; but I believe she was blessed in the present
instance with Divine assistance to part with me.” The unusual
tears which his father shed smote sorely upon the preacher’s
heart when, years afterward, the news of his death reached him
in the woods of America, where, constrained by the love of
Christ, he was seeking wandering souls.

Bristol seems to have been, then, the point of missionary em-
barkation; and when his affecting leave-takings of parents and
friends were over, Asbury found himself at the ship, without a
penny. “Yet,” he writes, “the Lord soon opened the hearts of
friends, who supplied me with clothes and ten pounds; thus I
found, by experience, that he will provide for those who trust in
him.” The ship sailed on the 4th of September. He had but
two blankets for his bed, and slept with them on the hard boards
during the voyage. “I want,” he writes, “faith,.courage, pa-
tience, meekness, love. When others suffer so much for their
temporal interests, surely I may suffer a little for the glory of:
God and the good of souls. I feel my spirit bound to the New
World, and my heart united to the people, though unknown; and
have great cause to believe that I am not running before I am
sent. The more troubles I meet with, the more convinced I am
that I am doing the will of God. The people God owns in En-
gland are the Methodists. The doctrines they preach, and the
discipline they enforce, are, I believe, the purest of any people
in the world. The Lord has greatly blessed these doctrines and
this discipline in the three kingdoms; they must therefore be
pleasing to him. If God does not acknowledge me in America,
I will soon return to England. I know my views are upright now.
May they never be otherwise!”

A Christian welcome awaited him at Philadelphia; he thanked
God and took courage. ‘“ When I came near the American shore,
my very heart melted within me, to think from whence I came,
where I was going, and what I was going about.” A born lead-
er, he instinctively surveyed the situation, and the impression
was made that the biggest part of the New World was the coun-
try, not the towns; and that the ministerial force had been too
much confined to the latter. A week after landing, his journal!
296 History of Methodism.

 

notes: “ November 4.—We held a watch-night. Toward the end,
a plain man spoke, who came out of the country, and his words
went with great power to the souls of the people; so that we may
say, ‘Who hath despised the day of small things?’ not the Lord
our God; then why should self-important man?”

Moving on to New York, he preached his opening sermon in
Ewmbury’s chapel on, “I determined not to know any thing among
you save Jesus Christ, and him crucified.” “I approved much,”
says he, “of the spirit of the people; they were loving and seri-
ous; there appeared also in some a love of discipline. Though
I was unwilling to go to York so soon, I believe it is all well; and
I still hope I am in the order of God.”

Here he found Boardman, as he had left Pilmoor, settling down
into winter-quarters; and we are not surprised at this item in his
journal: “At present I am dissatisfied, and judge that we are to be
shut up in the cities this winter. My brethren seem unwilling
to leave the cities, but I think I shall show them the way.” “I
am come over with an upright intention, and through the grace
of God I will make it appear, and am determined that no man
shall bias me with soft words and fair speeches.” “ Whomsoever
I please or displease, I will be faithful to God, to the people, and
to my own soul.” In pursuance of this design, he made an ex-
cursion to West Farms and to Westchester, preaching in court-
houses, barns, and private houses. He spent the winter alter-
nately in the city and country, extending his labors to New Ro-
chelle, to Rye, and to Staten Island, where he preached at the
houses of Van Pelt, Wright, and Disosway. Soon there were half
% dozen preaching-places on the island. This was the beginning
of Methodism there; and as in many other instances of sowing
beside all waters, one event connects itself with another afar off.
When Asbury, as Bishop, crossed the Blue Ridge, he found a
brother of his old friend, Peter Van Pelt, in the French Broad
country. An instant and most friendly alliance naturally fol-
lowed their meeting, and Benjamin Van Pelt became a useful lo-
cal preacher, formed several Societies, and built Van Pelt’s Meet-
ing-house—an ancient landmark of East Tennessee Methodism.

It was not long before Boardman was traveling North and East,
as far as Boston; though he made little impression upon the New
Englanders. Pilmoor went southward; from Norfolk, he extend-
ed his trip to Charleston and Savannah, and thence returned.
“Be not Righteous Overmuch.” 297

No Societies were planted by him, but something was gained to
the cause by a survey of the land, and by the people seeing and
hearing a good Methodist preacher. Norfolk had much labor
bestowed upon it before it took the rank it has long held as a
moral city. Asbury found there a hard place, as had Pilmoor, and
Williams, and Watters, and Wright, and King, before him. Pil-
moor, passing through Portsmouth on his return from the South,
came upon two men at the ferry, swearing horribly. He raised
his hands, and exclaimed: “ Well! if I had been brought to this

place blindfolded, I should have known I was near Norfolk.”

His preaching excited the opposition of the easy-going parish
clergy of the city, and during his absence the parson attempted
to turn the tide of feeling against the Methodists by preaching
on, “ Be not righteous overmuch.” ‘He assured the people that
he knew from experience the evil of being overrighteous. To
his surprise and that of his friends, Pilmoor returned a few days
after, and gave notice that he would preach on the verse next
following’ the parson’s text, “Be not overmuch wicked.” The
people crowded to the preaching-place. Having read the text,
he said he had been informed that a certain divine of that town
had given them a solemn caution against being righteous over:
much. Then lifting his hands, and with a very significant coun.
tenance, he exclaimed, “And in Norfolk he hath given this cau
tion!”

In October, 1772, by appointment, Asbury became chief o:
General Assistant, having the direction of affairs and the appoint
ing of the preachers, subject to Wesley’s supervision. Board.
man quietly fell into a subordinate position, and the itinerancy
was really inaugurated. Asbury formed a circuit around Phila-
delphia, as he had done around New York, taking in Chester and
Wilmington, and sweeping into New Jersey. He wrote to Will-
iams, on hearing one of his stirring reports: “I hope that before
long about seven preachers of us will spread over seven or eight
hundred miles.”

Upon his new appointment, Asbury moved his head-quarters
to the center of operations—Baltimore; he “settled” the Society
into classes, and thus got for the members the benefit of closer
oversight and of better spiritual edification. Not content with
preaching at the market-place and in private houses, he moved
for the building of two churches—Fell’s Point and Light Strect
298 History of Methodism.

 

—the first of their kind in a city which has since enjoyed the
eminence of being a city of Methodist churches. Here, asin New
York and Philadelphia, he made the city a rallying-point from
which to extend his labors. Beginning at Baltimore, he by no
means confined his labors to that place, but traveled extensively
through various parts of Maryland, preaching every day, form-
ing into classes those who had been awakened to a sense of their
sin and their danger, that they might help each other to work out
their salvation. In December, having gone round that part of
his circuit which lay on the Western Shore, he crossed the Sus-
quehanna, in company with John King, to visit that part of it:
which lay on the Peninsula, between Chester River and Wilming-
ton. His circuit lay in six counties. He traveled over it every
three weeks, about twenty-four appointments—assisted by King,
Strawbridge, Owen, and other preachers and exhorters. On the
Eastern Shore of Maryland, particularly in the county of Kent,
there was a revival of religion, by which many souls were brought
to the “knowledge of salvation by the remission of sins.” Kent
Circuit was reported the next year, with its meeting-house, the
first on the Peninsula, which has continued a fruitful field for
Methodism. The rafters prepared for the chapel were broken in
the night by enemies; but the Society persisted and prevailed.
Asbury gives this adventure, on his visit to this point where
Strawbridge and his exhorters had opened the way. It is a sam-
ple of the shepherds on whom the Methodists were dependent for
the sacraments, while they continued to depend on the “ clergy: ”
December 12.—Went twelve miles into Kent county, and had many great peo-
ple to hear me. Before preaching, one Mr. R., a Church minister, came to me
and desired to know who I was, and whether I was licensed. I told him who I
was. He spoke great swelling words, and told me he had authority over the peo-
ple, and was charged with the care of their souls. He also told me that I could
not and should not preach; and if I did, he would proceed against me according
to law. I let him know that I came to preach, and preach I would; and further
ashed him if he had authority to bind the consciences of the people, or if he was
a justice of the peace; and told him I thought he had nothing to do with me.
He charged me with making a schism. I told him that I did not draw the people
from the church; and asked him if his churel. was then open. He told me that
{ hindered the people from their work; but I asked him if fairs and horse-races
did not hinder them. And further told him that I came to help him. He said,
he had not hired an assistant, and did not want my help. I told him if there
were no swearers or other sinners, he was sufficient. But said he, “What did you
some for?” I replied, “To turn sinners to God.” Hesaid, “Cannot I do this as wel!
Troubles of Administration. 299

 

as you?” Itold him that I had authority from God. He then laughed at me, and
said, “You are a fine fellow, indeed!” I told him I did not do this to invalidate
his authority; and also gave him to understand that I did not wish to dispute with
him; but he said he had business with me, and came into the house in a great rage.
{ began to preach, and urged the people to repent and turn from all their trans-
gressions, so iniquity should not prove their ruin. After preaching, the parson
went out, and told the people they did wrong in coming to hear me, and said I
spoke against learning, whereas I only spoke to this purpose: when a man turned
fxm all sin, he would adorn every character in life, both in Church and State.

Early in the spring he started North, wandering off the direct
route right and left, with his gospel message, till he came to New
York. “Trouble is at hand,” writes Asbury, “but I cannot fear
while my heart is upright with God. I seek nothing but him,
and fear nothing but his displeasure.”

On leaving the Southern Circuit he notes a fact which charac-
terized his ministry: “Felt much power while preaching on per-
fect love. The more I speak on this subject, the more my soul
is filled and drawn out in love. This doctrine has a great tend-
ency to prevent people from settling on their lees.” He had
thoroughly accepted this Wesleyan doctrine, though up to this
point there is no unequivocal record of his experience of it. He
seems to have settled upon this view: That if a preacher is con-
vinced of the truth of a‘doctrine he ought to preach it, whether
he himself has personally experienced it or not; the gift of God
and the privileges of believers are not to be measured by the at-
tainments of the messenger, but by the terms of the message; the
advice of Peter Bohler, on preaching faith, may be applied to
Christian perfection—preach it until you have it, and then be-
cause you have it you will preach it.

Troubles of administration frequently arose—that plague in
the planting of missions distant from the seat of authority—and
Asbury had come to settle tuem. Pilmoor and Wright were
highly displeased with him about something, and the gentle
Boardman, like enough, did not relish the shaking-up that As-
bury was giving to men and things. There was too much of mil-
itary movement and drill to suit their views, and they as well as
he were relieved by the coming of Thomas Rankin to supersede
him. On hearing his successor’s sermon, he made this note: “He
will not be admired as a preacher; but as a disciplinarian, he
will fill his place.” Before T. R. left America, Asbury thought
more of his preaching than of his administrative ability.
300 History of Methodism.

Conference at Philadelphia (1773) being concluded, Asbury, in
a notice of its proceedings, gives this hint of the cause of his
troubles: “There were some debates among the preachers in this
Conference relative to the conduct of some who had manifested
a desire to abide in the cities and live like gentlemen. Three
years out of four have already been spent in the cities. It was
also found that money had been wasted, improper leaders ap-
pointed, and many of our rules broken.” Asbury was sent to
Baltimore, where he finished what he had begun by putting Meth-
odism on a firm footing, well organized in the city and in the
strong centers within reach of it:

 

Asbury’s usefulness in the Baltimore Circuit at this time had permanently im-
portant results. He gathered into the young Societies not a few of those influen-
tial families whose opulence and social position gave material strength to Meth-
odism through much of its early history in that city, while their exemplary devo-
tion helped to maintain its primitive purity and power. Henry Dorsey Gough
and his faraily were distinguished examples. Gough possessed a fortune in lands
and money amounting to more than three hundred thousand dollars. He had
married a daughter of Governor Ridgeley. His country residence—Perry Hall,
about twelve miles from the city—was “one of the most spacious and elegant in
America at that time.” But he was an unhappy man in the midst of his luxury.
His wife had been deeply impressed by the Methodist preaching, but he forbade
her to hear them again. While reveling with wine and gay companions, one
evening, it was proposed that they should divert themselves by going together to a
Methodist assembly. Asbury was the preacher, and no godless diversion could be
found in his presence. ‘ What nonsense have we heard to-night!” exclaimed one
of the convivialists, as they returned. “No,” replied Gough, startling them with
sudden surprise; “what we have heard is the truth, the truth as it is in Jesus.”
“J will never hinder you again from hearing the Methodists,” he said, as he en-
tered his house and met: his wife.*

He was converted; both he and his wife joined the Methodists,
ard his house became a preaching-place and an asylum fer thu
itinerants. A chapel was built contiguous to Perry Hall, and he
built another chapel for the Methodists in a poor neighborhood.
After some years Gough fell away, but under the ministry of
Asbury was reclaimed in 1800. After his reclamation he ex-
- claimed: “O if my wife had ever given way to the world I should
~ have been lost! but her uniformly good life inspired me with the
hope that I should one day be restored to the favor of God.”
He died in 1808, while the General Conference was in session in
Baltimore. Asbury, who had twice led him to the cross, was

 

*Stevens’s History of the Methodist Episcopal Church, Vol. I.
Perry Hall—Asbury’s Socal Power. 301

 

present to comfort him in his final trial. The Bishop describes
him as “a man much respected and beloved; as a husband, a father,
and a master, well worthy of imitation; his charities were as nu-
merous as proper objects to a Christian were likely to make them;
and the souls and the bodies were administered to in the manner
of a Ghristian who remembered the precepts and followed the
example of his Divine Master.”

Asbury’s journals have rendered the name of Perry Hail fa-
miliar. <A veteran itinerant has drawn the picture of its Chris-
tian hospitalities:

We were received in their usual warm and affectionate way, and I was for the
first time introduced to that dear household. I soon found that religion in its na-
tive simplicity dwelt in some great houses, and that some of the rich had been cest
in the gospel mold, and came out in the image and likeness of their Lord. Perry
Hall was the largest dwelling-house I had ever seen, and all of its arrangemen/s,
within and without, were tasteful and elegant, yet simplicity and utility seemed to
be stamped upon the whole. The garden, orchards, and every thing else, were ( e-
lightful indeed, and looked to me like an earthly paradise. But, what pleased 12¢e
better than any thing else, I found a neat chapel attached to the house, with asm wl]
cupola, and a bell that could be heard all over the farm. In this chapel morniig
and evening prayers were offered to God. The bell rang about half an hour | e-
fore prayer, when the manager and servants from the farm-house, and servants’
quarters and garden, together with the inhabitants of the great mansion, repaired
to the chapel. So large and well-regulated a family I never saw before.

If no minister were present, Mrs. Gough read a chapter ard
gave out a hymn which was sung by the negro servants, and she
prayed. Asbury was poor, and he loved and lived with the poor
and served them; but it was a feature of his character that with-
out seeking the great or compromising with fashionable sins and
vanities, he had the power of making homes where his Master
made his grave—with the rich. He entered the house of many
a Zaccheus, bringing salvation with him. There was a simplic-
ity and genuine refinement in manners, an unfeigned warmth of
heart, an unassumed dignity of person and presence, an impres-
sion of goodness and worth, that made people love and venerate
him. Over the Middle and Southern States especially some of
his far apart resting-places are familliar to the readers of his
journal: Perry Hall, in Maryland; Bassett’s and White’s, in Del-
aware; Dromgoole’s, in Virginia; Edmond Taylor’s and Green
Hill’s, in North Carolina; Rembert Hall, in South Carolina;
General Russell’s, over the mountains.
302 History of Methodism.

 

Kindred spirits as well as neighboring fields brought Asbury
and his co-laborers acquainted with Devereux Jarratt, of Bath
Parish, Dinwiddie county, Virginia. If all the clergy had been
like him, there would have been no Methodists; but he stood
alone among the parish priests, with the exception of Archibald
McRoberts, of Chesterfield, who, to complete the general abandon-
ment of the field, in 1779 united himself with the Presbyterians.

Jarratt was a native of Virginia, born in 1732. He was sent
to a plain school, and in the vacations divided his time between
working on the farm and training race-horses and game-cocks.
Occasionally he worked as a carpenter, which trade his father
had followed before him. At nineteen he determined to be a
teacher. Hearing of a situation in Albermarle county, he set
out to find it, and was engaged at £9, 7s. per annum. The third
year he taught in the family of a pious lady who greatly assisted
him in his religious life. He now became deeply concerned about
the salvation of his soul, and determined to take orders in the
Established Church. Having saved sufficient money to pay his
expenses, he sailed for England in the fall of 1762. He had to
wait until the following spring before he received ordination.

Taking charge of his parish, he began to preach and to travel,
and like the Methodists to put awakened souls into Societies.
When he first administered the communion, only seven or eight
of the more aged at church came forward to receive it; twelve
years later, at three churches included in Bath Parish, there were
a thousand communicants. This is Jarratt’s description of his
preaching at that time:

Instead of moral harangues, and advising my hearers in a cool, dispassionate
manner to walk in the primrose paths of a decided, sublime, and elevated virtue,
and not to travel the foul track of disgraceful vice (the favorite style of preaching
in that day), I endeavored to enforce in the most alarming colors the guilt of sin,
the entire depravity of human nature, the awful danger mankind are in, by nature
and by practice, the tremendous curse to which they are obnoxious, and their utter
inability to evade the sentence of the law and the stroke of divine justice by their
own power, merit, or good works. Ignorance of the things of God, profaneness,
and irreligion, then prevailed among all ranks and degrees; so that I doubt if even
the form of godliness was to be found in any one family of this large and populous
parish. I was a stranger to the people; my doctrines were quite new to them, and
were neither preached nor helieved by any other clergyman, so far as I could learn,
<hroughout the province.

The usual result followed, and his evangelical labors were called
Devereux Jarratt. 303

 

for in several counties, not without remonstrance from some of
his brethren at his irregularities. When the Established clergy
hegan to forsake the sinking ship, Jarratt stood at his post. He
welcomed the Methodists and heartily codperated with them,
adopting their methods, and by administering the sacraments
did all that one man could do to keep down their rising dissatis.
faction about the ordinances. It is to be regretted that this good
man, when the Methodist flock failed to be gathered into his fold,
became alienated from them, and was led to speak and write de-
preciatingly of a Christian body which elected not to fall within
his ecclesiastical lines. For awhile he not only labored with them
and was blessed in his deed, but he bore their reproach. During
the revival on Brunswick Circuit, in which Devereux Jarratt took
Bo eminent a part, he attended a convention of his Church at
Williamsburg, and was treated so unkindly, and heard the doc-
trines of Christianity so ridiculed, that he was minded to attend
no more. In 1785 he was present at another in Richmond, but
was so coldly received that he remained only a few hours and then
rode home. He was better received at the convention of 1790,
which elected their first bishop; at that of 1792 he preached the
opening sermon. On his way home he was requested to take
part in an ordination at Petersburg. In the examination he re-
fused two of the candidates as unfit for the office. “But what did
that avail?” says he. “Another clergyman was called in, and I
had the mortification to hear both of them ordained the same day.
I say hear, for it was a sight I did not wish to see.” He sat in
a pew in the corner, his head covered with his handkerchief.
The Bishop’s excuse was that “ministers were so scarce, we must
not be too strict.”

In 1775 George Shadford went to Brunswick Circuit with
Dromgoole and Glendenning. The revival which had begun un-
der Mr. Jarratt is best described by himself. How nearly he ap-
proached the Methodists, and how useful he found their means
of grace, will appear from the account he sent to Wesley through
Rankin:

In the years 1770 and 1771 we had a more considerable outpouring of the Spir-
it, at a place in my parish called White Oak. It was here first I formed the peo-
ple into a Society, that they might assist and strengthen each other. The good
effects of this were soon apparent. Convictions were deep and lasting; and not

only knowledge but faith and love and holiness continually increased. In the
year 1772:the revival was more considerable, and extended itself in some placw
304 History of Methodism.

 

for fifty or sixty miles around. It increased still more in the following year, and
several sinners were truly converted to God. In spring, 1774, it was more remark-
able than ever. The word preached was attended with such energy that many
were pierced to the heart. Tears fell plentifully from the eyes of the hearers, and
some were constrained to cry out. The work increased in 1775, but was more con-
siderable in January, 1776. It broke out nearly at the same time, at three places
not far from each other. Two of these places are in my parish, the other in Ame-
lia county, which had for many years been notorious for carelessness, profaneness,
and immoralities of all kinds. Some time last year, one of my parish (now a local
preacher) appointed some meetings among them, and after awhile induced a
small number to join in Society. And though a few, if any of them, were beliey-
ers, yet this was a means of preparing the way of the Lord.

As there were few converts in my parish last year [1775], I was sensible a change
of preachers was wanting. This has often revived the work of God; and so it did at
the present time. Last December, one of the Methodist preachers, Mr. S[had-
ford], preached several times at the three places above mentioned. He confirmed
the doctrine I had long preached; and to many of them not in vain. And while
their ears were opened by novelty, God set his word home upon their hearts,
Many sinners were powerfully convinced, and “Mercy!” “Mercy!” was their cry.
In January the news of convictions and conversions was common; and the people
of God were inspired with new life and vigor by the happiness of others. But in
a little time they were made thoroughly sensible that they themsc-ves stood in
need of a deeper work in their own hearts than they had yet experienced. And
while those were panting and groaning for pardon, these were entreating God, with
strong cries and tears, to save them from the remains of inbred sin, to “sanctify
them throughout in spirit, soul, and body;” so to “circumcise their hearts” that
they might “love God with all their hearts,” and serve him with all their
strength.

The outpouring of the Spirit which began here soon extended itself, more or
less, through most of the circuit, which is regularly attended by the traveling
preachers, and which takes in a circumference of between four and five hundred
miles. The unhappy disputes between England and her Colonies, which just be-
fore had engrossed all our conversation, seemed now in most companies to be for.
got, while things of far greater importance lay so near the heart.

One of the doctrines, as you know, which we particularly insist upon, is that ot
a present salvation; a salvation not only from the guilt and power but also from
the root of sin; a cleansing from all filthiness of flesh and spirit, that we may per-
fect holiness in the fear of God; a going on to perfection, which we sometimes de
fine by loving God with all our hearts. Several who had believed were deeply
sensible of their want of this. I have seen both men and women, who had long
been happy in a sense of God’s pardoning love, as much convicted on account of
the remains of sin in their hearts, and as much distressed for a total deliverance
from them, as ever I saw any for justification. Their whole cry was:

“O that I now the rest might know,
Believe and enter in!

Now, Saviour, now the power bestow,
And let me cease from sin!”

And I have been present when they believed that God answered this prayer,
The Brunswick Revival. 805

 

and bestowed this blessing upon them. I have conversed with them several times
since, and have found them thoroughly devoted to God. They all testify that they
have received the gift instantaneously, and by simple faith. We have sundry wit-
nesses of this perfect love who are above all suspicion.

This reads asif a Methodist had writtenit. Jarratt describes
further how mourners were helped by class-meetings and love-
feasts; how “in a moment the Lord spoke peace to their souls”
and they rejoiced in the witness of the Spirit. “Where the great-
est work was,” he says, “ where the greatest number of souls have
been convinced and converted to God, there have been the most
outcries, tremblings, convulsions, and all sorts of external signs.
I took all the pains I could that these might be kept within
bounds, that our good might not be evil spoken of. This I did,
not by openly inveighing against them in the public assembly,
but by private advices to local preachers and others, as op-
portunity would permit. This method had its desired effect,
without putting a sword into the hands of the wicked.” This
revival of religion spread through fourteen counties in Virginia,
and through old Bute and Halifax counties in North Carolina;
at the same time, in several counties bordering upon Maryland.

Shadford carried up a glowing account to Conference, in May,
1776, at Baltimore, and Jarratt followed him with a joyful letter:
“T praise God for his goodness, in so plentifully pouring out of his
Spirit on men, women, and children. I believe threescore, in and
near my parish, have believed, through grace, since the quarterly-
meeting. Such a work I never saw with my eyes. Sometimes
twelve, sometimes fifteen, find the Lord at one class-meeting. I
am just returned from meeting two classes. Much of the power
of God was in each. My dear partner is now happy in God her
Saviour. I clap my hands exulting, and praise God. Blessed
be the Lord, that ever he sent you and your brethren into this
part of his vineyard!”

Asbury had been sent to a hard field that year. He found in
Norfolk thirty persons in Society, with no regular class-meet-
ings, and no place of worship but an “old, shattered play-house;”
and twenty-seven in Portsmouth, who by discipline were soon
reduced one-half. Like himself, he circled far and near, doing
in the country what he failed to do in the two towns. With joy
he took a laborious vacation in October. He writes: “I expect
to go to Brunswick shortly, and my heart rejoices in hope of see.

20
306 - History of Methodism.

 

ing good days, and many souls brought to God in those parts.”
One week after: “I am now within a few miles of dear Brother
George Shadford; my soul catches the holy fire already.” And
soon he had his brother Englishman in his arms and gave him
“the holy kiss,” and they joined hands and hearts in their Icved
employ.

Let us glance at the helpers raised up in America, upon whom
devolved preaching the word and the extension of the work after
the English missionaries were withdrawn. The Lord of the har-
vest wonderfully supplied their places.

William Watters was born in Baltimore county, 1751, and was
converted in-his twentieth year. His third sermon was preached
in “ Baltimore town,” as he was being taken out into the itiner-
ancy the next year, by Williams going toward the South. His
account of himself and his times shows how promptly the pioneer
preachers put their converts to work:

My conversion was (in that dark day and place) much talked of, as also my
praying in a short time after without a book, which, to some, appeared a proof
that there was a notable miracle wrought on me indeed. We had no regular
preaching in those days, nor had there ever been but three Methodist preachers
in Maryland—Williams, Strawbridge, and King—so that we were frequently for
menths with very little preaching, and then for weeks we had it frequently, but
in one sense we were all preachers; the visible change that sinners could not but
see, and many openly acknowledged, was a means of bringing them to seek the
Lord. On the Lord’s-day we commonly divided into little bands, and went out
into different neighborhoods, wherever there was a door open to receive us—two,
three, or four in company—and would sing our hymns, pray, read, talk to the peo-
ple, and some soon began to add a word of exhortation., We were weak, but we
lived in a dark day, and the Lord greatly owned our labors; for. though we were
not full of wisdom, we were blessed with a good degree of faith and power. Tho
little flock was of one heart and mind, and the Lord spread the leaven of his grace
from heart to heart, from house to house, and from one‘neighborhood to another;
and though our gifts were very small, yet it was astonishing to see how rapidly
the work spread all around, bearin;, down the little oppositions with which it met,
as chaff before the wind. Many will praise God forever for our prayer-meetings.
In many neighborhoods they soon became respectable, and were considerably at:
tended to.*

Two of Watters’s brothers were converted through his instru-
mentality, one of them becoming a zealous local preacher, and
later a traveling preacher. He was a meek and judicious man,
and rendered valuable service by diffusing socially a healthful,

 

* “Christian Experience and Ministerial Labor of Wm. Watters.” Drawn up
vy himself. Printed at Alexandria, 1806.
Watters and Owen. 307

 

loving spirit, as well as by preaching. Such items as this, on
the Sussex Circuit (1778), marked his ministry: “I did not get
round the circuit the second time, before the Lord was gracious-
ly pleased to pour out his Spirit in a very unusual manner, just
after I had been preaching, and was meeting the class. The
windows of heaven were opened, and the Lord poured out such
a blessing as our hearts were not able to contain. We were so
filled with the love of God, and overawed with his divine majes-
ty, that we lay prostrate at his footstool, scarcely able to rise from
our knees for a considerable time, while there were strong cries
and prayers from every part of the house for that ‘perfect love
which casteth out all fear that hath torment.’” He was nota great.
preacher; but, closing up a happy and prosperous year, he gives
the key to his success: “The most glorious work that ever I be-
held was in this circuit amongst believers. Scores professed to
be sanctified unto the Lord. I could not be satisfied without
pressing on Christians their privilege; and indeed I could not but
remark that however able the speakers, if nothing of the sancti-
fication of the Spirit was dwelt on, believers appeared not to be
satisfied, and that however weak, if they from the fullness of their

‘ hearts and in faith exhorted believers to go on to perfection, the
word was blessed.”

The severest language we have found in all that is published
by William Watters was (1806) in defense of his bishop: “But
a greater charge than the love of power has been brought against
Mr. Asbury (though I believe only by a few); even that of the
love of money. I think a devil ought to blush (if it were pos-
sible) at such a charge.”

To Richard Owen belongs the distinction of heading the long
roll of American Methodist preachers. Watters, the first itiner-
ant among them, thus speaks of him: ;

Though encumbered with a family, he often left wife and children and a com-
fortable living, and went into many distant parts, before we had any traveling
preachers amongst us, and without fee or reward freely published that gospel to
others which he had happily found to be the power of God unto his own salvation.
And after we had regular circuit preachers amongst us, he as a local preacher was
ever ready to fill up a gap; and by his continuing to go into neighborhoods where
they had no preaching, he was often the means of opening the way for enlarging
old or forming new circuits in different places. Several years before his dissolu
tion, after his children were grown up and able to attend his family concerns, he
gave himself up entirely to the work of the ministry, and finished his course in
308 History of Methodism.

 

Leesburg, Fairfax Circuit, in the midst of many kind friends, hut some distance
‘rom his family.

Philip Gatch, connected with the best history of Methodism
in both the East and the West, was born near Georgetown, Mary-
land, in 1751.* He and Watters began their public labors as ex-
horters the same year, and they were the first two native Method-
ist preachers reported in the Minutes. He had early awaken-
ings, but there was no one to take him by the hand and lead him
to the fountain of life. From a child the Spirit of grace strove
with him. “It pleased God,” he says, “to send the gospel into
our neighborhood in 1772, through the instrumentality. of the
Methodists. Nathan Perigan [a local preacher converted under
Strawbridge] introduced Methodist preaching where I lived. I
was near him when he opened the first meeting. ‘His prayer
alarmed me much. The sermon was accompanied to my under-
standing by the Holy Ghost. I was stripped of all self-right-
eousness. I saw myself alogether sinful and helpless, while the
dread of hell seized my guilty conscience.” Gatch heard Peri-
gau again, and his trouble increased. He says:

On the 26th of April I attended a prayer-meeting. After remaining some time,
I gave up all hopes, and left the house. I felt that I was too bad to remain where
the people were worshiping God. At length a friend came out to me, and requested
me to return to the meeting; believing him to be a good man, I returned with him,
and, under the deepest exercise of mind, bowed myself before the Lord, and said
in my heart, “If thou wilt give me power to call on thy name, how thankful will
Ibe!” Immediately I felt the power of God to affect me, body and soul. I felt
like crying aloud. God said, by his Spirit, to my soul, “ My power is present to
heal thy soul, if thou wilt but believe.” I instantly submitted to the operation of
the Spirit of God, and my poor soul was set at liberty. I felt as if I had got into
a new world. I was certainly brought from hell’s dark door, and made nigh unto
God by the blood of Jesus. I was the first person known to shout in that part of
the country. A grateful sense of the mercy and goodness of God to my poor soul
overwhelmed me. I tasted, and saw that the Lord was good. Two others found
peace the same evening, which made seven conversions in the neighborhood. I
returned home happy in the love of God.

His father received him ungraciously. “There is your elder
brother,” the father had said to him, “he has better learning than
you; if there is any thing good in it, why does he not find it out?”
But this elder brother was “ powerfully converted” at the same
meeting with Philip. The brothers introduced family prayers,

 

*Sketch of Rev. Philip Gatch, prepared by Hon. John McLean, LL.D., Judge
af the Supreme Court of the United States. Cincinnati, 1854.
Gatch, Perigau, Dromgoole. 309

 

and Philip Gatch’s first exhortation was at home. “The Lord
blessed me,” he says, “ with aspirit of prayer, and he made mani-
fest his saving power among us. I rose from my knees and spoke
to them some time, and it had a gracious effect upon the family.
Thenceforward we attended to family prayer.”

Perigau was soon preaching in the house. Classes were formed;
Gatch’s parents, most of their children, a brother-in-law and two
sisters-in-law, were in a few weeks recorded among the class-
members. “The work was great, for it was the work of God.”
Philip was soon exhorting, and then as a preacher he went to
New Jersey, Virginia, and Maryland, feeble in frame, yet faith-
fully itinerating and preaching. His judgment, modesty, deep
spirituality, and his courage, made him the man for difficult places.
Whitworth and Ebert, two apostate preachers, had scandalized
the cause on the Eastern Shore and in New Jersey, and within
twelve months Gatch was sent to both places to recover the
ground that had been lost. He succeeded, and the tide was
turned. Gatch manumitted his slaves, and subsequently removed
to Ohio, where he took part in the civil as well as religious or-
ganization of the territory, and was called Judge Gatch. His
posterity are honorably known in Church and State. He died
the same year with his old friend and comrade, Dromgoole.

Edward Dromgoole’s name appears on the Conference list of
1774. -A native of Sligo, he renounced popery before leaving
his own land, and was brought to a saving knowledge of Christ
in America; emigrated about 1770, and worked awhile with a
Christian man as a journeyman tailor. After his family came to
opulence and high social position, the thimble with which he
wrought was preserved as a relic and heirloom. He heard his
countryman, Strawbridge; was converted, and began to preach;
and the next year was sent to Baltimore Circuit with Shadford
and two other recruits. A native gift of oratory and an elevated
and commanding character were developed during the next twelve
years which he spent in the itinerancy. In Virginia, North Car-
~ olina, and Maryland, the fine results of his influence were in-
wrought into the social and religious life of Methodism. Mar-
trying, he located and made his home in Brunswick county; and
died in 1835, in the eighty-fourth year of his age.

As a local preacher he was greatly useful. The blessing of
God came upon his household, and he increased in worldly goods.

U
310 History of Methodism.

 

Mary Walton, his wife, a native of Brunswick, bore him ten:
children; and their happy union lasted forty-nine years. His
numerous family, including many slaves, were brought under
Christian influence, and his large hospitality was tested by the
entertainment of a Conference. Asbury preached at his house
so late as 1815, and ordained him an elder on that occasion. In
1813 he wrote to his fellow-laborer, Philip Gatch: “ We are still
living in old Brunswick, and nearly in the common way of the
country. My five oldest children are professors, and in Society.
Our youngest child is sixteen years of age. He is moral, but not
a professor yet. May the Lord bring him into the fold! Two
of my sons are preachers. I am yet endeavoring to labor in my
Master’s vineyard.”

His youngest son was afterward a leading Congressman of that
day;* and his grandson was a member of the faculty that organ-
ized Lagrange College, Alabama, and subsequently held a pro-
fessorship in Randolph-Macon College, Virginia. He went to
Germany, and spent three years in travel and-at the University of
Halle, perfecting his studies in literature and science. He was
filling a chair in the University of Alabama when he died in 1845,
in his forty-first year. The Church lost in him one of her ripest
scholars and one of her purest and most devoted ministers.t

Among the nine preachers added to the itinerant ranks of the
Conference in 1776, there are names not to be forgotten.

Isham Tatum was for eight years a laborious pioneer in the new
and hard fields of Virginia and North Carolina. He “desisted
from traveling” in 1781. At the time of his death he was the
oldest Methodist preacher in the United States, if not in the
world. Freeborn Garrettson was born in Maryland, 1752. Awak-
ened under the rough warning of an exhorter, he was converted
in 1775, and became a burning and shining light. He inherited
wealth, but manumitted his slaves. He traveled through all the
Southern field with power; enduring persecution even to impris
onment and bloody wounds, like others of his brethren. He then
volunteered for Nova Scotia, and labored there successfully; after

 

. *Hon. Geo. C. Dromgoole.

+ Prof. Edward D. Sims. He had given special attention to the Anglo-Saxon
and all the dialects from which the English language is drawn. It is to be re-
gretted that the material he collected for an Anglo-Saxon grammar, and which
he was about publishing, has never been utilized.
Poythress, Pedicord, Dickins, and Others. 311

 

which the State of New York was the scene of his apostolic la-
bors. He died in his seventy-sixth year. To specify one more
—Francis Poythress, a not less distinguished name, joined the
itinerant ranks the same year. A native Virginian; he was con-
verted under Jarratt’s ministry, brought eminent ability to the
service of Methodism, and was at one time desired by Asbury as
his assistant and successor. In Kentucky he bore the banner
for years, after a like ministry in the East.

The list of fourteen preachers admitted on trial into the Con-
ference of 1777 is rich in historic names. John Tunnell, after
preaching from New Jersey to Carolina, planted Methodism in
the fertile Holston Conference, and was the first itinerant to make
his grave within its boundaries. Reuben Ellis was one of the
most judicious and useful of the wise master-builders who laid the
foundations. Caleb Pedicord was eloquent in sermon and song.
Le Roy Cole was attracted to “ Methodism as the best exponent
of Christianity,” and although educated for the ministry in the
Church of England, he hesitated not to embrace the sacrifices
of. an itinerant’s life. He meekly bore contumely and wrong in
h's Master’s cause, outlived it all, and retired for a time to the
Iccal ranks; but again entered the itinerancy, and did much to
fcrward the cause of Methodism in the far West, whither he
emigrated in 1808. “

Besides these and other natives of the South, John Dickins—
Asbury’s countryman—was a man of mark. While on a circuit in
North Carolina, he helped him to plan for a Kingswood School in
America, which “came out a college in the subscription printed
by Dr. Coke.” He aided in starting and putting into successful
operation the “ Book Concern,” and by “his skill and fidelity as
editor, inspector, and corrector of the press,”’ enabled Methodism
to lay wide and deep foundations for a Church literature. One
said that it might be written on his tomb with truth: “ Here lieth
he who, in the cause of God, never feared or flattered man.”
For many years his son, Hon. Asbury Dickins, was clerk of the
United States Senate, respected and trusted, and retained in of-
fice by all parties. Dickins had studied at Eton College, and
was specially fitted to inaugurate a religious publishing house.

John Major and Richard Ivey appeared in 1778, and later
Thomas Humphreys and Wm. Partridge. They responded wher
laborers were called for to possess South Carolina and Georgia.
312 History of Methodism.

 

Philip Bruce and John Easter were admitted into full connec-
tion, after two years’ probation, in 1783. John Easter was the
most powerful hortatory preacher of his day. Perhaps no man
has ever been more honored of God in the conversion of souls.
Thousands were brought to God under his ministry, and among
them were some of the brightest lights of Methodism, both in
the laity and in the*’ministry. William McKendree and Enoch
George were the spiritual children of John Easter. He was a
native of Mecklenburg, Virginia. .

Philip Bruce was born in North Carolina, near King’s Mount-
ain, in 1755—descended from the Huguenots. The family name
was De Bruise, but was corrupted into Bruce by a Scotch teach-
er from whom Philip received his education. He was the first
of his family to become a Methodist. When a youth, the pio-
neer preachers reached the wild region of his home, and under
their preaching many were brought to God, among them Philip
Bruce. His parents were the first-fruits of his labors. In per-
son he was tall and straight; very grave and dignified in his man-
ners; his hair was worn long, his visage was thin, his complexion
dark, and his eyes bright and piercing; his countenance was open
and expressive; his features indicative of intellec'ual power. In
the pulpit he was graceful and impressive. His sern.ons were usu-
ally short, but he excelled in the application. His appeals wero
often irresistible. In one of his episcopal tours Bishop Asbury
as usual had sent ahead an appointment for preaching. The
Bishop remarked: “Now, Philip, I intend to pile up the brush
to-night, and you must set it on fire.’ Philip Bruce professed,
preached, and exemplified sanctification. Like most of the early
preachers, he never married. His wisdom in counsel caused the
Church to use him in important situations.*

In the same year, a class of nineteen was admitted on trial;
and Jesse Lee, Thomas Ware, and William Phoebus were among
them. Ware was a noble and consecrated man, and itinerated
in the power of the Spirit from his native New Jersey, through
the Carolinas and to Tennessee and Pennsylvania. Jesse Lee
was late in entering the itinerancy, but he had not been idle as
an exhorter and local preacher. His preaching and literary la-

 

*In old age he removed to Tennessee, and his grave is with kindred dust near
Pulaski. He died in 1826—the oldest traveling preacher in the Methodist Epis-
co}al Church, at the time, with the exception of Freeborn Garrettson.
Lit Instruments for the New Era. 313

 

bor and his planting Methodism in New England have made his
memorial. The time would fail us to tell of Ira Ellis, and John
Littlejohn, and John Haggerty, and Isaac Smith; of Wilson Lee,
and James Haw, who broke ground as the first missionary to
Kentucky; of Ignatius Pigman, and Jeremiah Lambert, and Nel-
son Reed, and Henry Willis, and David Abbott, and James Foster.
They will come into view again. Such men were the gift of God.
Their calling and sending forth could be from none other than
the Lord of the harvest. Inured to toil and privation, conse-
crated and anointed, they were fit instruments, providentially
prepared, for the era that was now beginning.

Had Joseph Benson been yielded, by the British Conference,
to the appeals that were made for him, he would, by his learning
and eloquence, have pleased the great cities; but he would also
have ranked and superseded Asbury, who was infinitely better
suited for the leadership American Methodism then needed.
The “Calm Address,” so much regretted at the time, cleared the
continent of un-American influences, and left in the hands of a
ministry to the manner born, and in thorough sympathy with the
social and political institutions of the country, the formation of
its most successful ecclesiastical institution.
CHAPTER XXIV.

The Question of the Ordinances—Destitution—Clamor of the People for tl e Saura-
ments—Deferred Settlement—Temporary Division—The Concession for Peace
After Long Waiting—Prospect of Supply.
~N April, 1783, exactly eight years after the first blood was

spilled at Lexington, peace was proclaimed to the American

army by order of the commander-in-chief. The Conference
which met the next month appointed two days for public thanks-
giving for the peace established, and for “the revival of the work
of God which had taken placeamong us.” This year eleven new
circuits were added, one of which is Cumberland and Holstein;
and two old stations restored to the list which had for some years
been left off—New York and Norfolk. There were now thirty-
nine circuits in all, and eighty-five preachers to travel them.
Besides the nineteen preachers admitted on trial this year, an
increase of one thousand nine hundred and thirty-five mem-
bers was reported—making a total of thirteen thousand seven
hundred and forty.* Other Christian denominations had de-
creased, and some had been well-nigh extinguished during the
war, but Methodism had increased fivefold. Rocked in the cra-
dle of revolution, it was hardy. With the new republic, it was
ready for setting out upon its unexampled career.

The question of the ordinances cannot longer be postponed.
We have seen how Strawbridge believed, and acted upon the be-
lief, that under the circumstances his commission to preach,
which he had received from the Lord Jesus, carried with it the
authority to baptize also, and to give the Lord’s Supper to those
who had believed on Him, by his ministry. Though the first
“rule” of the first Annual Conference seems absolute, as record-
ed in their brief Minutes, yet we learn from Asbury’s note that
it was adopted with the understanding that “no preacher in our
Connection shall be permitted to administer the ordinances at
this ‘time except Mr. Strawbridge, and he under the particular
direction of the Assistant.”

*There were now but one thousand six hundred and twenty-three Methodists
north of Mason and Dixon’s line, twelve thousand one hundred and seventeen
south of it. (Stevens’s History, Vol. IT.)

(314)

 
The Question of the Ordinances. 315

 

The people more and more clamored for the sacraments at the
hands of their pastors. There were no Wesleys, Grimshaws,
Piers, Perronets, Creightons, Fletchers, and other godly clergy,
going in and out to supply this demand. Even the loose and
immoral clergy of the Established Church were few and far be-
tween; and at the sound of war, being mostly foreigners, they
deserted the country. Unless the kingdom of heaven were a
close corporation, with the Bishop of London, three thousand
miles away, at its head, these American Methodists could not
see why they should be deprived of a whole gospel. They had
a well-defined theological system, a pure discipline, a sound ex-
perience, a holy ministry, a compact organism, and an edifying
Christian fellowship—why must they wait on the pleasure of
men who could not understand their distant situation, or sympa-
thize with their wants, for the sacraments? Intelligent and seri-
ous people, thus conditioned, would be likely to appreciate the
figment of apostolical succession, and the theory of ecclesiasti-
cism that hangs on it, at its true worth. The trained conserva-
tism of Wesleyan Methodists triumphed, though it bore hard
upon them. They waited until all could be united in measures
of relief, and until relief could come in regular order.

The Minutés do not show it, but the journals of the old preach-
ers do, that this matter came up at all of the Annual Conferences.
It was pressed in the fifth session held at Deer Creek, in Har-
ford county, Maryland, 1777. Says one chronicler: “The ques-
tion, ‘What shall be done with respect to the ordinances?’ was
asked. ‘Let the preachers pursue the old plan as from the be-
ginning,’ was the answer. It was further asked, ‘What altera-
tion may we make in our original plan?’ And the answer was,
‘Our next Conference will, if God permit, show us more clearly.’ ”
It was debated, but the decision was suspended till the next
Conference, which was appointed to be held in the following May
in Leesburg, Virginia. Thomas Rankin presided over this ses-
sion. It was his last, and doubtless he bore to Wesley a faithful
account of the pressure on this subject: that “the exigence of ne-
cessity ” was upon the American Methodists, which even in the es.
timation of such a Churchman as the “Judicious Hooker” would
‘justly constrain them “to leave the usual ways which otherwise
they would willingly keep.” His words described and covered
their case: “ Howbeit, as the ordinary course is ordinarily in all
316 History of Methodism.

things to be observed, so it may be in some cases not unneces-
sary that we decline from the ordinary ways.”

The sixth Annual Conference began at Leesburg, 1778. It was
the first session held in that province, then comprising nearly two-
thirds of the membership. Rankin had left; Asbury was in se-
clusion; and William Watters, the senior native itinerant, presid-
ed, though only twenty-seven years old. He says of the session:

Having no old preachers with us, we were as orphans bereft of our spiritual
parents; but though young and inexperienced in business, the Lord looked gra-
ciously upon us, and had the uppermost seat in all our hearts, and of course sn our
meeting. It was also submitted to the consideration of this Conference whether
in our present situation, of having but few ministers left in many of our parishes
to administer the ordinances of baptism and the Lord’s Supper, we should not ad-
minister them ourselves; for as yet we had not the ordinances among us, but were
dependent on other denominations for them, some receiving them from the Pres-
byterians, but the greater part from the Church of England. In fact, we consid-
ered ourselves, at this time, as belonging to the Church of England. After much
conversation on the subject, it was unanimously agreed to lay it over for the de-
termination of the next Conference, to be held [in Fluvanna county] 19th of May.

Asbury, aware of the unwelcome fact that the next Conference
would be one of action on the vexed question, called—at Judge
White’s in Delaware, where he enj joyed freedom from molestation
—a, quasi Conference of all the preachers north of the Potomae, in
April, 1779; Watters, alone, from the southern side was with them.
Anticipating the proceedings at Fluvanna, the question was asked,
“Shall we guard against a separation from the Church direct or
indirect?” and answered, “By all means.” Asbury says: “As
we had great reason to fear that our brethren to the southward
were in danger of separating from us, we wrote them a soft, heal-
ing epistle.” This “preparatory Conference,” as Lee calls it, ap-
pointed its next session to be held at Baltimore. Watters bore
the healing letter to the regular Conference in Fluvanna coun-
ty, Virginia, convened at Brokenback Church, in May. When
the postponed question, “Shall we administer the ordinances?”
came up, it was decided in the affirmative. Philip Gatch pre-
sided, and his journal gives the conclusions reached, embodied
in a series of questions and answers:

“What are our reasons for taking up the administration of the
ordinances? Answer: Because the Episcopal Establishment is
now dissolved, and, therefore, in almost all our circuits the men-
bers are without the ordinances.”
Division Threatened, but Averted. 317

 

Philip Gatch, Reuben Ellis, and James Foster were appointed
a presbytery: “First, to administer the ordinances themselves;
second, to authorize any other preacher or preachers, approved
of by them, by the form of laying on of hands.” After going
through the usual schedule of business, the Conference adjourned
to meet next year in Manakintown, Powhattan county, Virginia.

The new plan was put in operation at once. The committee
ordained each other, and set apart other preachers, “that they
might administer the holy ordinances of the Church of Christ.”
Their labors were greatly blessed, many souls were gathered
into the Church, “and Christians were very lively in religion.”’
Jesse Lee says: “The preachers thus ordained went forth preach-
ing the gospel in their circuits as formerly, and administered the
sacraments wherever they went, provided the people were willing
to partake with them. Most of our preachers in the South fell
in with this new plan; and as the leaders of the party were very
zealous, and the greater part of them very pious men, the privat
members were influenced by them and pretty generally fell in
with their measures; however, some of the old Methodists woulil
not commune with them, but steadily adhered to their old cus-
toms. The preachers north of Virginia were opposed to this
step, so hastily taken by their brethren in the South, and mada
a stand against it, believing that unless a stop could be put to
this new mode of proceeding a separation would take place
among the preachers and the people. There was great cause to
fear a division, and both parties trembled for the ark of God,
and shuddered at the thought of dividing the Church of Christ.”
A few preachers, who dissented from the action of the Confer-
ence, took their stations north of the Potomac, among those that
agreed with them on this question.

Asbury left his retreat in Delaware, and met some of the preach-
ers at Baltimore, on the 24th of April, and thus anticipated the
Virginia session by two weeks. Freeborn Garrettson says: “The
next Conference was appointed to be held at Manakintown, Vir-
ginia, May, 1780. Prior to this Conference we Northern preach-
ers thought it expedient, for our own convenience, to hold one in
Baltimore, at which Messrs. Asbury, Watters, arid Garrettson
were appointed as delegates to the Virginia Conference, to bring
them back if possible to our original usages. The proposition
that we made to them was that they should suspend the admin-
318 History of Methodism.

 

istration of the ordinances for one year; in the meanwhile we
would consult Mr. Wesley, and in the following May we would
have a union Conference in Baltimore, and abide by his judg-
ment. To this proposal they unanimously agreed; and a letter,
containing a circumstantial account of the case, written by John
Dickins, was signed and sent to Mr. Wesley.” Garrettson, ono of
the committee, tells in few words the result of along and anx-
ious negotiation. The ground was not yielded without a strug.
gle—not of arguments, for the brethren administering the ordi-
nances were satisfied with their position—but it was a struggle
of entreaties and tears, of love and pleas for continued union.
The opening breach was, at last, closed by the moderation of
the sacramental party, who compromised on a reference of the
whole subject, backed by such official statements of the case as
had never before been made. Asbury spent the next year pretty
much in North Carolina and Virginia with marked effect at con-
ciliation and unity. He also wrote urgently to England.
A few years before, Jarratt had written to Wesley:

Virginia (the land of my nativity) has long groaned through a want of faithful
ministers of the gospel. Many souls are perishing for lack of knowledge, many
crying for the bread of life, and no man is found to break it to them. We have
ninety-five parishes in the Colony, and all—except one—I believe, are supplied with
clergymen. But alas! you well understand the rest. I know of but one clergy-
man of the Church of England [McRoberts] who appears to have the power and
spirit of vital religion; for all seek their own, and not the things that are Christ’s,
Ts not our situation, then, truly deplorable? And does it not call loudly upon the
friends of Zion on your side the Atlantic to assist us? Many people here heartily
join with me in returning our most grateful acknowledgments for the concern you
have shown for us in sending so many preachers to the American Colonies. Can-
not you do something more for us? Cannot you send us a minister of the Church
of England, to be stationed in that one vacant parish I have mentioned? In all
probability he would be of great service.

There is doubtless a connection between these foregoing things
and the following passage of history: * “Some friends had written
to Mr. Wesley, desiring him to select a young man of piety, wis-
dom, and understanding, and send him out to America, ordained
by one of the English bishops. Having a personal knowledge
of Dr. Lowth, Bishop of London, Mr. Wesley asked this favor of
him, and was refused. Thereupon, on August 10th, 1780, he wrote
a long letter to the bishop, pointing out to him the great evil he
had done to spiritual religion in America by that refusal. Be-

* Memorials of the Wesley Family, by Stevenson.
Collapse of the Established Church. 319

 

fore finishing his letter, Mr. Wesley thus plainly writes his mind:
‘Your lordship did not see good to ordain the pious young man
I recommended, but your lordship did see good to ordain and
send into America other persons who knew something of Greek
and Latin, but who knew no more of saving souls than of catch-
ing whales. In this respect I mourn for poor America.’” Wes-
ley was trying to avoid innovation, and not to “leave the usual
ways,” but fortunately he was defeated in his half-measures.

The case of the Established Church, where Methodism most
prevailed, was one of collapse, as repeatedly stated by its own his-
torian: “ When the Colonists first resorted to arms, Virginia, in her
sixty-one counties, contained ninety-five parishes and ninety-one
clergymen. When the contest was over, she came out of the war
with twenty-three of her ninety-five parishes extinct or forsaken;
and of the remaining seventy-two, thirty-four were destitute of
ministerial services; while of her ninety-one clergymen, twenty-
eight only remained who had lived through the storm. Of theze
twenty-eight, fifteen only had been enabled to continue in the
churches which they supplied prior to the commencement of has-
tilities.” And it was a serious question, far from being solve],
whether the fragments of that Church could be gathered up aid
organized, and perpetuated on its own principles. There was
not a bishop of its faith and order in America, and never had
been. In May, 1785, a convention was held of what subsequently
became the Protestant Episcopal Church, in Virginia, which said,
“Since the year 1776 she hath been even without regular govern-
ment; ” and, “ We have as yet no resources within ourselves for a
succession of the ministry.” *

* The attention of the convention was called to the fact that soon after the re-
cognition of Independence “application was made by some young American gen-
tleman to the Bishop of London for orders. Difficulties arose from the operation
of certain English statutes requiring of those ordained such engagements as Amer-
icans could not take consistently with the allegiance which they owed to their
own country.” Mr. Adams, then American minister at the Court of St. James,
mentioned their case to the Danish minister; it was laid before the theological
faculty of Denmark, and relief was offered from that quarter. But the historian
informs us that the favor was not accepted at the time on account of the “feeling
which was general amongst the Episcopalians throughout this country, that the
consecration of American bishops and obtaining of holy orders were not to be
sought out of England, until all prospect of obtaining them there should seem
hopeless.” Adams, a Congregationalist, doubtless had a vein of humor.
320° History of Methodism.

 

A general convention met in Philadelphia, in the fall of 1785,
in which a tentative effort was made to form a liturgy and con-
stitution and articles of faith; “it was also recommended by the
convention to the several State conventions to elect suitable
persons to be recommended to the prelates of England for con-
secration to the episcopate; and a committee was appointed to
address the archbishops and bishops of England, requesting
them to confer the episcopal character on such persons as might
be elected.”* The spiritual lords of England took their time,
and next year a reply was returned granting the request upon cer-
tain conditions, among which were: The Americans must insert
the Nicene Creed in their liturgy—they had thrown it out, but
they put it in again; and also restore the clause, “he descended
into hell,” in the Apostles’ Creed.

New York and Pennsylvania, accordingly, got supplied with the
“succession,” in the persons of Drs. White and Provost. Dr. Mad-
ison went to England, and was consecrated in 1790. How pros-
perously things went on may be inferred from the fact that when
his successor was elected, in 1814, it was done by a mere handful
—hardly a quorum. “Seven clergymen were all that could be con-
vened to transact the most important measure which our conven-
tions are ever called on to perform; and this in a territory where
once more than ten times seven regularly served at the altar. We
look back farther still, and find the Church, after the lapse of two
hundred years, numbering about as many ministers as she pos-
sessed at the close of the first eight years of her existence.” +

It was not to be thought of that vigorous, growing, and evan-
gelical Methodism should be tied on to this moribund body, which
at the close of the war, and years afterward, was without organiza-
tion and without a creed, and did not know how, when, or where
it was to obtain a perpetuation of its feeble ministry.

The relations in which the Methodists stood to other Churches,
existing before and through the war for independence, and not
disrupted by its results, were equally unfavorable for the solu-
tion of the sacramental question. Presbyterians and Congrega-
tionalists would not baptize their children unless at least one of
the parents professed faith in their doctrines, nor admit them to
the communion-table unless they became members of their

 

* Hawks’s Narrative of Events connected with the Rise and Progress of the
Protestant Episcopal Church in Virginia. +Ibid, page 246.
The Principle of Church Order. 321

 

Church. Baptists were more rigid still, as they could fellowship
none unless they had been baptized by immersion. To neither
of these conditions could Methodists submit. Besides, by these
denominations, they were regarded as shocking heretics, on ac-
count of their opposition to the Calvinistic doctrine of decrees
and the final perseverance of the saints.

What shall the Methodists of America now do? We have seen
their condition at the proclamation of peace. One more Con-
ference-session brings them down to May, 1784; and adding the
results of the year, they have about fifteen thousand members,
and forty-six circuits served by 2ighty-four itinerant preachers,
Prepared as they are for great achievements, it is clear they
eannot go much farther without completing their ecclesiastical
organization. God has bestowed on them all the gifts and graces
necessary for the work of salvation; man would withhold from
them the authority of its formal signs and seals. They have re-
frained from exercising that right which “the exigence of neces-.
sity,”as interpreted by stringent exponents of ecclesiastical polity,
would allow; all in deference to regular order and to the preserva-
tion of unity—waiting, as they were encouraged to do, for some
provision to be made that would compass both. Political events,
which none could foresee, have now been determined; the crisis is
upon them; they cannot wait longer. They have been standing
on a question of expediency, not of right; of regularity, not of
validity. The most able and venerable of their itinerants may
not, on account of a restraint they hold themselves under, bap-
tize a child or any one of the hundreds of their converts; may
not give the simple emblems of the atonement to the thousands
of souls they daily feed with the bread of life. The pure word
of God is preached, with the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven;
but no sacraments are administered, because the Bishop of Lon-
don refuses to lay his hands on somebody’s head! Must these
fourscore pastors and fifteen thousand Christians wait indef-
initely? Or must they disband? Surely Christian fetichism
could not ask so much.

“Dispassionately looked at,” says Isaac Taylor, “Wesleyan
Methodism did not so much violate as it rendered an homage
to the principle of Church order; for if it broke in upon things
constituted with a violence that threatened to overthrow what-
ever might obstruct its course, it presently emerged from its owu

21

,
322 History of Methodism.

 

confusion, and stood forth as a finished pattern of organization,
and an eminent example of the prevalence and supremacy of
rules. The enlightened adherents of ecclesiastical institutions
might well persuade themselves to see in Methodism not, as they
are wont, a horrible Vandalism, but the most emphatic recogni-
tion that has ever been made of the very core of Church princi-
ples, namely, that Christianity cannot subsist, does not develop
its genuine powers (longer than for a moment), apart from an
ecclesiastical organization.”

This “homage to the principle of Church order,” having been
rendered, is destined soon to be repaid. What has been waited
for and prepared for will, in a regular, primitive, and scriptural
way, be obtained without any breach of unity, real or appar-.
ent; without any possible concession to a hierarchical heresy
which had all along been disavowed; and at the same time show-
ing that due respect to the principle of the ministerial trans-
mission of Christian ordinances which was to guard Method-
ism in the future against the evils of radicalism and confusion
Wesley, long since satisfied of his right and power, as a Pres.
byter, to ordain preachers for the American Methodists, had
hesitated to exercise that authority on the ground of expedien-
cy. Now he can say: “By a very uncommon train of provi-
dences, many of the provinces of North America are totally dis-
joined from the British Empire, and erected into independent
States. The English Government has no authority over them,
either civil or ecclesiastical.” ‘Noone either exercises or claims
any ecclesiastical authority at all.” And reciting the neces-
sities of the situation, he concludes: “Here, therefore, my
scruples are at an end; and I ‘conceive myself at full liberty,
as I violate no order and invade no man’s right, by appointing
and sending laborers into the harvest.”

Let us return to the Old World, and bring up a chapter of
history from that side.
CHAPTER XXV.

Primitive Church Government—Philanthropy—The Sum of all Villainies—Book
Reviews on Horseback—West India Missions Planted—Christian Perfection—
A Scheme of Absorption—The Calvinistic Controversy—Fletcher's Checks—
Deed of Declaration—John Fletcher—Thomas Coke—Ordinations for America.

“T OHN WESLEY did much of his reading on horseback, when

young, and in his carriage when old. Thus reading, he crit-
icised and digested more books, in history, philosophy, and po-
etry, than most men get through with in the quiet of a library
Traveling five thousand miles a year, he could not afford to lose
the time on the road. Leaving London for Bristol early in 1746,
he read a book that had an effect upon his opinions and his life.
Lord King was the nephew of the celebrated Locke, who left him
a portion of his library. At the age of twenty-two (1691), he
published “An Inquiry into the Constitution, Discipline, Unity,
and Worship of the Primitive Church, that flourished three hun-
dred years after Christ; faithfully collected out of the extant
writings of those ages.” He rose to be Lord High Chancellor of
England, and died in 1734, in reputation for learning, virtue,
and humanity. This book was Wesley’s companion on his way
to Bristol, and after reading it he wrote: “In spite of the vehe-
ment prejudice of my education, I was ready to believe that this
was a fair and impartial draught; but if so, it would follow that
hishops and presbyters are essentially of one order, and that
originally every Christian congregation was a Church independ-
ent of all others.”

Stillingfleet’s “Irenicum,” King’s “ Primitive Church,” and en-
largement by observation and reflection—as he associated contin-
ually with men who by every token had been “moved of the
Holy Ghost to preach,” and therefore were in the highest sense
God’s ministers and embassadors—caused Wesley’s opinions to
undergo a change. The Conference of 1747 reveals this: The
conversation one day proceeded to show, from the term “church”
in the New Testament, that a national Church is “a merely po-
litical institution;” that the three orders of bishops, priests, and
deacons generally obtained in the early ages of the Church; but

(323)
324 History of Methodism.

 

that uniformity of Church government is not taught in Holy
Scripture, and was never attempted till the time of Constantine.
One question, with its answer, expresses Wesley’s opinion, and
that of his coadjutors, on a subject that was coming forward:

“ Question: In what age was the divine right of episcopacy first
asserted in England? Answer: About the middle of Queen Eliz-
abeth’s reign. Till then all bishops and clergy in England con-
tinually allowed, and joined in, the ministrations of those wha
were not episcopally ordained.”

In July, 1756, Wesley wrote: “I still believe the episcopal form
of Church government to be scriptural and apostolical. I mean,
well agreeing with the practice and writings of the apostles.
But that it is prescribed in Scripture, I do not believe. This
opinion, which I once zealously espoused, I have been heartily
ashamed of, ever since I read Bishop Stillingfleet’s ‘Irenicon.’
I think he has unanswerably proved that neither Christ nor his
apostles prescribe any particular form of Church government, and
that the plea of divine right for diocesan episcopacy was never
heard of in the primitive Church.” He preferred the Church of
England, not because he thought it the only Church, but because,
upon the whole, he thought it the best. The charm of apostolic
succession is dispelled, so soon as he gets that venerable Rom-
ish fetich in position to be looked at through a dry light, and
to be investigated as other subjects are investigated. Indeed, in
reference to this, Wesley wrote (in 1761): “I never could see it
proved; and I am persuaded I never shall.” And later still was
his well-known and oft-quoted utterance: “TI firmly believe I am
a scriptural episcopos, as much as any man in England, or in Eu-
rope. For the uninterrupted succession I know to be a fable,
which no man ever did or can prove.”

As a presbyter in authority, or a providential bishop, he em-
ployed preachers, and set them apart to the sacred office. It is
true that it was several years before he began to use the imposi
tion of hands; but that was a mere circumstance, not the essence
, of ministerial ordination. Richard Watson observes: .

It has been generally supposed that Mr. Wesley did not consider his appoint-
ment of preachers without imposition of hands as an ordination to the ministry, but
only as an irregular employment of laymen in the spiritual office of merely ex-
pounding the Scriptures in a case of moral necessity. This is not correct. They
were not appointed to expound or preach merely, but were solemnly set apart to
the past oral office, as the Minutes of the Conferences show; nor were they regarded
Book Reviewers on Horseback. 825

 

by him as layman, except when in common parlance they were distinguished from
the clergy of the Church; in which case he would have called any Dissenting min-
ister a layman. The minutes sufficiently show that as to the Church of Christ at
large, and as to his own Societies, he regarded the preachers, when fully devoted
to the work, not as laymen, but as spiritual men, and ministers; men, as he says,
“moved by the Holy Ghost” to preach the gospel, and who after trial were or-
dained to that and other branches of the pastoral office.

Wesley was a philanthropist. Whatever concerned humanity’s
welfare, body or soul, concerned him; and his strongest language
is called forth by cruelty and oppression. Here is another of his
book reviews along the road: “I read a very different book, pub-
lished by an honest Quaker, on that execrable sum of all villain-
ies, commonly called the Slave Trade. I read of nothing like
it in the heathen world, whether ancient or modern; and it infin-
itely exceeds, in every instance of barbarity, whatever Christian
slaves suffer in Mohammedan countries.” Here are sentiments
in advance of his time; for it was not until fifteen years after
this that the “Society for the Suppression of the Slave Trade”
was founded. One of the counts in the original indictment
drawn by the Colonies, prefacing their Declaration of Inde-
pendence, was that the English Government, headed by the king,
persisted in this trade with all its iniquities, to the disgust and
detriment of the American people; and the new Republic pro-
hibited it, under the severest penalties. Wilberforce was com-
ing forward into public life, and, pursuing the line of Wesley’s
protest, was to earn a place in Westminister Abbey. The vis-
itor of to-day, walking through the aisles of that mausoleum of
kings and statesmen and other great ones, may read an inscrip-
tion on his tombstone ascribing to him the honor of saving his
country from “the guilt and shame of the African slave trade.” *

Another book review on horseback shows that Wesley’s sympa-
thies were not confined to any race or color: “I read Mr. Bolt’s ac-
count of the affairs in the East Indies—I suppose much the best
that is extant. But what a scene is here opened! What con-
summate villains, what devils incarnate, were the managers there!
What utter strangers to justice, mercy, and truth—to every senti-
ment of humanity! Ibelieveno heathen history containsa parallel.

 

* The book which Wesley read is supposed to have been one written by Anthony
Benezet (1762), a French Protestant, who, after being educated in England, be:
came a Quaker in Philadelphia, and was Whitefield’s host when there.

V
326 History of Methodisin.

 

I remember none in all the annals of antiquity; not even the di-
vine Cato or the virtuous Brutus plundered the provinces com-
mitted to their charge with such merciless cruelty as the English
have plundered the desolated provinces of Indostan.”

An interesting event, about 1760, is connected with negro mis.
sions. Nathaniel Gilbert, a wealthy planter of the West Indies,
visited England; he had heard of Wesley, had read some of his
publications, and his visit was in no small degree induced by a
desire to make his personal acquaintance. This wish was reual-
ized, and he became a Methodist local preacher. An entry in
Wesley’s journal contains the germ of events: “In the morning, I
preached in Mr. Gilbert’s house. Two negro servants of his and
a mulatto appear to be much awakened. Shall not His saving
health be made known to all nations?” Subsequently, he writes:
“T rode to Wandsworth, and baptized two negroes belonging to
Mr. Gilbert, a gentleman lately come from Antigua. One of these
is deeply convinced of sin; the other rejoices in God her Saviour,
and is the first African Christian I have known. But shall not
our Lord, in due time, have these heathens also ‘for his inherit-
ance?’” These were the first of a great multitude.

Nathaniel Gilbert, after spending two years in England, re-
turned to his estate in Antigua. He was an educated and an
able man, and for some years had been the speaker of the House
of Assembly in Antigua. He fitted up a room, placed a pulpit
mn it, and was soon branded as a madman for preaching to his
slaves. A Society was formed at St. John’s, and Methodism
was fairly started in the West Indian islands. Nathaniel Gilbert
died in 1774, eleven years before the appointment of the first
Methodist missionaries to Antigua, leaving behind him a Meth-
odist Society of about two hundred members. ‘On what do you
trust?” asked a friend. “On Christ crucified,” was the quick
response. “Have you peace with God?” He answered, “Un-
speakahle.” “Have you no fear, no doubt?” “None,” replied
the dying man. Thus died the first West Indian Methodist.
The Society was left in a forlorn condition. For several years
they were without a minister, but were kept together by two ne-
gro women, who met them regularly, and prayed with them.

The Government wishing a ship-carpenter’s service at St.
John’s dock-yard, sent out John Baxter in 1778. A class-leader
and local preacher, Baxter soon found the little flock and began
“The Perfecting of the Saints.” 827

 

to preach, and had the pleasure of addressing multitudes, and the
still greater pleasure of seeing the work of God prosper in his
hands. He persevered until the year 1783, when a Methodist
chapel was erected—the first ever built in the torrid zone. Al-
though Baxter had devoted only a portion of his time to the
work, following his trade while preaching, yet in seven years
after his arrival nearly two thousand persons had joined his
Society. Such was the state of things when the first Wesley-
an missionary arrived. On walking up the town of St. John’s,
he met Baxter in the street, on his way to the chapel to perform
divine service, it being Christmas-day. Although personally
strangers, their mutual joy on this unexpected meeting can be
better conceived than described.

About 1763 a deep wave of revival passed over the Societies.
The peculiar work of the Spirit seemed to be what St. Paul calls
“the perfecting of the saints.” Many were awakened and con-
verted, but the work of sanctification engaged preachers and peo-
ple in a special manner. Visiting Ireland in July, Wesley re-
cords: “I found three or four and forty in Dublin who seemed
to enjoy the pure love of God. At least forty of these had been
set at liberty within four months. Some others who had.received
the same blessing had removed to other parts. A larger number
had found remission of sins.” In September he was in the west
of England, where he writes: “The more I converse with the
believers in Cornwall, the more I am convinced that they have
sustained great loss for want of hearing the doctrine of Chris-
tian perfection clearly and strongly enforced.” The bare word,
perfection, provoked criticism and jests on the part of some who
should have known its Bible origin. Toadoubting if nota back-
slidden preacher Wesley wrote at a later day:

Many think they are justified, and are not; but we cannot infer that none are
justified. So neither, if many think they are “perfected in love,” and are not,
will it follow that none are so. Blessed be God, though we set a hundred enthu-
siasts aside, we are still “encompassed with a cloud of witnesses,” who have testi-
fied, and do testify, in life and in death, that perfection which I have taught these
forty years! This perfection cannot be a delusion, unless the Bible be a delusion
too; I mean, loving God with all our hearts, and our neighbor as ourselves. I pin
down all its opposers to this definition of it. No evasion! No shifting the ques-
tion! Where is the delusion of this? Either you receive this love, or you do not.
If you did, dare you call it a delusion? If you received any thing else, it does
not at all affect the question.
328 History of Methodssm.

 

In 1759 Wesley published “Thoughts on Christian Perfec-
tion.” His sermon eighteen years before, on the same subject,
thus opens: “There is scarce any expression in Holy Writ which
has given more offense than this. The word perfect is what
many cannot bear. The very sound of it is an abomination to
them; and whosoever preaches perfection (as the phrase is), that
it is attainable in this life, runs great hazard of being accounted
by them worse than a heathen and a publican.” *

Proceeding to show in what sense Christians are perfect, and
in what sense they are not perfect, he guards against the error of.
putting Christian perfection so high as to be unattainable, or so
low as to allow of “infirmities, ’ so called, which are really sins:

Christian perfection, therefore, does not imply (as some men seem to have.im-
agined) an exemption either from ignorance, or mistake, or infirmities, or temp-
tations. Indeed, it is only another term for holiness. They are two names for
the same thing. Thus, every one that is holy is, in the Scripture sense, perfect.
Yet we may observe, lastly, that neither in this respect is there any absolute per-
tection on earth. There is no perfection of degrees, as it is termed; none which does
not admit of a continual increase. So that how much soever any man has attained,
or in how high a degree soever he is perfect, he hath still need to “grow in grace,”
and daily to advance in the knowledge and love of God his Saviour.

This perfection is not like that of a tree which flourishes by
the sap drawn from its own roots; it is rather like that of a
branch, living and bearing fruit while united to the vine, but
severed from it, is dried up and withered. The necessity of a
Mediator is not excluded, as objectors allege, in their case who
are perfected in love; for none feel their dependence on him,
in his priestly office, as they do. Christ does not give this sal-
vation separate from, but in and with, himself. Its essence is
constant union of the soul with the Saviour. All deviations from
the perfect law, whether caused by ignorance, inadvertence, or
mistakes of judgment, need atonement. In a letter to a friend
(1763), Wesley declares that he can say nothing on the subject
of Christian perfection but what he has said already. Neverthe
less, at her request, he is willing to add a few words more:

As to the word perfection, it is scriptural. Therefore, neither you nor I can in
conscience object to it, unless we would send the Holy Ghost to school, and teach
him to speak who made the tongue.

By Christian perfection I mean (as I have said again and again) the so loving
God and our neighbor as to “rejoice evermore, pray without ceasing, and in every

 

“«No. XL. in the Standard Series: Text, Phil. iii 12
The Wesleyan Doctrine of Perfection. 329

 

thing give thanks.” He that experiences this is scripturally perfect. And if you
do not, yet you may experience it; you surely will, if you follow hard after it, for
the Scripture cannot be broken.

What, then, does their arguing prove who object against Christian perfection?
Absolute or infallible perfection I never contended for; sinless perfection J do not
contend for, seeing it is not scriptural. A perfection such as enables a person to
fulfill the whole law, arid so need not the merits of Christ, I do not acknowledge.
I do now and always did protest against it.

But is there no sin in those who are perfect in love? I believe not; but, be
that as it may, they feel none—no temper contrary to pure love, while they rejoice,
pray, and give thanks continually. Whether sin is suspended or extinguished I
will not dispute. It is enough that they feel nothing but love. This you allow
we should daily press after; and this is all I contend for.

So important a doctrine came up in the earlier conversations
of the Conference. An epitome.of it, as held and taught by
Wesleyans, may be found in their Minutes. It shows a disposi-
tion to approach all who advocate holiness as nearly as possible:

“Question: What is it to be sanctified? Answer: To be re-
newed in the image of God, in righteousness and true holiness.

“Question: Is faith the condition, or the instrument, of sanc-
tification? Answer: It is both the condition and the instrument of
it. When we begin to believe, then sanctification begins. And
as faith increases, holiness increases, till we are created anew.

“Question: What is implied in being a perfect Christian? An-
swer: The loving the Lord our God with all our heart, and with
all our mind and soul and strength.”

“Question: How much is allowed by our brethren who differ
from us with regard to entire sanctification? Answer: They
grant, (1) That every one must be entirely sanctified in the arti-
cle of death. (2) That, till then, a believer daily grows in grace,
comes nearer and nearer to perfection. (8) That we ought to be
continually pressing after this, and to exhort all others so to do.

“Question: What do we allow to them? Answer: We grant,
(1) That many of those who have died in the faith—yea, the
greater part of those we have known—were not sanctified through-
out, not made perfect in love, till a little before death. (2) That
the term ‘sanctified’ is continually applied by St. Paul to all that
were justified, were true believers. (3) That by this term alone
he rarely (if ever) means saved from all sin. (4) That, conse-
quently, it is not proper to use it in this sense, without adding
the word ‘wholly,’ ‘entirely,’ or the like. (5) That the inspired
writers almost continually speak of or to those who were justi-
330 History of Methodism.

 

fied, but very rarely either of or to those who were wholly sanc-
tified. (6) That, consequently, it behooves us to speak in public
almost continually of the state of justification; but more rarely,
at least in full and explicit terms, concerning entire sanctifica-
tion.

“Question: What, then, is the point wherein we divide? An-
swer: It is this—whether we should expect to be saved from all
sin before the article of death.

“ Question: Is there any clear Scripture promise that God will
save us from all sin? Answer: There is, ‘He shall redeem Israel
from all his sins.’ And to this the apostle plainly refers in that
exhortation, ‘Having these promises, let us cleanse ourselves
from all filthiness of flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the
fear of God.’ Equally clear and express is that ancient promise,
‘The Lord thy God will circumcise thine heart, and the heart of
thy seed, to love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with
all thy soul.’

“Question: Does the New Testament afford any further ground
for expecting to be saved from all sin? Answer: Undoubtedly
it does, both in those prayers and commands which are equiva-
lent to the strongest assertions.

“Question: What prayers do you mean? Answer: Prayers
for entire sanctification, which, were there no such thing, would
be mere mockery of God.

“Question: What command is there tothe same effect? An-
swer: (1) ‘Be ye perfect, as your Father which is in heaven is
verfect.’ (2) ‘Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy
heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.’ But if the
love of God fill all the heart, there can be no sin there.

“Question: But how does it appear that this is to be done be-
fore the article of death? Answer: From the very nature of a
command, which is not given to the dead, but to the living.
Therefore, ‘Thou shalt love God with all thy heart’ cannot mean
thou shalt do this when thou diest, but while thou livest.

“Question: Does not the harshly preaching perfection tend to
bring believers into a kind of bondage or slavish fear? Answer:
It does. Therefore, we should always place it in the most amia-
able light, so that it may excite only hope, joy, and desire.”

A perilous crisis was encountered, but safely passed, when
the absorption of Methodism was proposed. The proposition
Schemes of Absorption. 331

 

came from friends, and it had this advantage—it seemed to take
ground on which Wesley stood at an earlier stage of the religious
movement. Walker of Truro, an evangelical and friendly cler-
gyman, pushed this scheme. In a long letter, he details it:

After all these considerations, might not an expedient be found out which might
correspond with the word of God and the Church of England, and, at the same
time, both remove all objections and render the body of Methodists more useful?
I have long and often thought of such a thing. My scheme is this: 1. That aa
many of the lay preachers as are fit for, and can be procured, ordination, ke av.
dained. 2. That those who remain be not allowed to preach, but be set as inspec-
tors over the Societies, and assistants to them. 3. That they be not moved from
place to place, to the end they may be personally acquainted with all the members
of such Societies. 4, That their business may be to purge and edify the Societies
under their care, to the end that no person be continued a member whose conver-
sation is not orderly and of good report. ,

If this should be made an objection, that hereby lay preachers would be pre-
vented from preaching abroad, and so much good be put a stop to, I would suggest
it to be inquired into, whether this lay preaching hath been so much to the honor
or interest of religion or Methodism as may be supposed? JI remember, when it
first began, I said and thought lay preaching would be the ruin of Methodism.

Wesley replied at large, showing that the scheme would not
work at all. Alluding to the arguments of Methodists who ad-
vocated bolder measures and open dissent, he says: “I will freely
acknowledge that I cannot answer these arguments to my own sat-
isfaction. As yet we have not taken one step farther than we
were convinced was our bounden duty. It is from a full convic-
tion of this that we have preached abroad, prayed extempore,
formed Societies, and permitted preachers who were not episco-
pally ordained. And were we pressed on this side, were there
no alternative allowed, we should judge it our bounden duty
rather wholly to separate from the Church than to give up any
one of these points; therefore, if we cannot stop a separation
without stopping lay preachers, the case is clear, we cannot stop
it at all.”

“Lay preachers” had given every token of being “moved by
the Holy Ghost.” Must he stop them, because not episcopally
ordained? He states the case to the rector of Truro: “What
authority have I to forbid their doing what I believe God has
called them to do? J apprehend, indeed, that there ought, if
possible, to be both an outward and inward call to this work; yet,
if one of the two be supposed wanting, I had rather want the
outward than the inward call. I rejoice that I am called tc
332 History of Methodism.

 

preach the gospel both by God and man. Yet, I acknowledge,
I had rather have the Divine without the human than the hu-
man without the Divine call.”

The next scheme was not so sweeping, but the more danger-
ous from its moderation. Wesley had addressed a circular to
fifty clergymen, desiring their counsel and codperation in carry-
ing on the revival. ‘The great point,” he says, “I now labored
for was a good understanding with all our brethren of the clergy,
who are heartily engaged in propagating vital religion.” A doz-
en of the clergymen, to whom the circular had been sent, attended
the Conference. John Pawson tells for what purpose. The
reader must not be startled at the term awakened minister:

In the year 1764 twelve of those gentlemen attended our Conference in Bristol,
in order to prevail with Mr. Wesley to withdraw the preachers from every parish
where there was an awakened minister; and Mr. Charles Wesley honestly told us
that if he was a settled minister in any particular place, we should not preach
there. To whom Mr. Hampson replied, “I would preach there, and never ask
your leave, and should have as good a right to do so as you would have.” Mr,
Charles Wesley’s answer was in a strain of High-church eloquence indeed! but I
leave it. His prediction was never accomplished, nor ever can be. However,
hese gentlemen failed in their attempt that time; Mr. Wesley would not give up
his Societies to them.”

The difference between the two Wesleys on this subject ap-
pears to have been this: With Charles, adherence to the Church
was paramount; every thing else was of secondary importance.
With John, the grand ruling idea was the salvation of sinners;
and although anxious to remain in union with the Church, and
to keep his Societies from separating from it, he subjected every
thing to the proclamation of the gospel and the salvation of men.
“Church or no Church,” he observes in‘one of his letters to
Charles, “we must attend to the work of saving souls.” Besides
other unanswerable objections to the withdrawing plan was this:
There might, at one time, be a godly incumbent of a parish; but
who could tell the character of his successor? Instead of tak-
ing care of the abandoned Societies, he might mock and destroy
them. The successor of Grimshaw would not allow Wesley to
occupy his pulpit. Such changes for the worse were common in
a State Church, where the right of presentation to the vacant
parish was a property often held by godless men.

Methodism, step by step, was forced into its true position. It
must not be stopped; it could not be absorbed into the Establish -
Kingswood—Antinomianism. 333

 

ment at this stage; and the experience of Lady Huntingdon had
shown that it would not be allowed, as a self-governed revival
organization, to exist inside the Establishment. Already Wes-
leyan chapels and preachers were under necessity of getting
licensed according to the Act of Toleration. Nothing was left,
if Methodism be true to God and its mission, but to organize
outside of the Establishment. If it cannot act as a leaven within
that body, it may be an uplifting lever outside of it. In the
course of time the hierarchy saw the blunder they had commit-
ted, but they saw it too late.

Kingswood School still gave trouble. In March, 1766, on his
long journey to the north, coming to Bristol, Wesley wrote: “I
rode to Kingswood, and having told my whole mind to the mas-
ters and servants, spoke to the children in a far stronger manner
than ever I did before. I will kill or cure. I will have one or
the other; a Christian school or none at all.” At another time he
resolved to “mend it or end it.” His latter years were cheered
by success; on coming to this child of his love, he could say: “I
found the school in excellent order. It is now one of the pleas-
antest spots in England. I found all things just according to my
desire; the rules being well observed, and the whole behavior of
the children showing that they were now managed with the wis-
dom that cometh from above.” At his last visit, he wrote: “I went
over to Kingswood; sweet recess! where every thing is now just
as I wish.”

There was a well-meant effort by Wesley to keep as near to
Whitefield as possible, when a doctrinal divergence began to ap-
pear between them. Antinomianism, both of mystic and Calvin-
istic origin, gave him trouble; but his testimony against it was
unsparing. The Minutes of 1770 contained, therefore, the fol-
lowing passages:

We said, in 1744, “We have leaned too much toward Calvinism.” Wherein‘

With regard to man’s,faithfulness. Our Lord himself taught us to use the ex-
pression. And we ought never to be ashamed of it. We ought steadily to assert,
on his authority, that if a man is not “faithful in the unrighteous mammon,” Gcd
wil] not give “him the true riches.”

We have received it as a maxim that “a man is to do nothing in order to jns-
tification.” Nothing can be more false. Whoever desires to find favor with Goa
should “cease from evil, and learn to do well.’ Whoever repents should do
“works meet for repentance.” And if this is not in order to find favor, what doe

che do them for?
534 History of Methodism,

 

Does not talking of a justified or a sanctified state tend to mislead men? almost
naturally leading them to trust in what was done in one moment? Whereas we are
every hour and every moment pleasing or displeasing to God, “according to our
works;” according to the whole of our inward tempers, and our outward behavior.

These expressions, with others touching the acceptance of the
heathen who “fear God and work righteousness,” excited suspi-
cion among some who held “the doctrines of grace.” The Cal-
vinistic wing of Methodism took up the matter warmly. The
outery of heresy was raised, as though Wesley and his preachers
had asserted that we are saved by the merit of works and not en-
tirely by that of Christ. The Countess of Huntingdon was
alarmed; and the Rev. Walter Shirley, her kinsman and chaplain,
wrote a “Circular Letter” to all the serious clergy, inviting them
to go in a body to the ensuing Conference, and “insist upon a
formal recantation of the said Minutes, and in case of a refusal,
to sign and publish their protest against them.” He and a few
others accordingly attended the Bristol Conference (1771), where,
says Wesley, “we had more preachers than usual, in consequence
of Mr. Shirley’s ‘Circular Letter.’ At ten on Thursday morn-
ing he came, with nine or ten of his friends. We conversed
freely for about two hours; and I believe they were satisfied that
we were not such ‘dreadful heretics’ as they imagined, but were
tolerably sound in the faith.”

As evangelical co-laborers, the Calvinistic Methodists were
entitled to an explanation (not a “recantation’’); but they did
not get it until they approached the Conference respectfully.
Shirley’s “Circular Letter” was naturally resented by Wesley,
as being published before any explanations respecting the Min-
utes had been asked; and also from its assuming that he and the
clergy who might obey his summons had the right to come into
the Conference, and to demand a recantation. This led Lady
Huntingdon and Mr. Shirley to address explanatory letters to
Mr. Wesley. The evening before the Conference met, Lady
Huntingdon says: “As you and your friends, and many others,
have objected to the mode of the application to you in Confer-
etice, as an arbitrary way of proceeding, we wish to retract what
a more deliberate consideration might have prevented,” etc. Mr.
Shirley’s letter acknowledges “that the ‘Circular’ was too hasti-
ly drawn up, and improperly expressed; and, therefore, for the
ofiensive expressions in it we desire we may be hereby unde1-
The Calvinistic Controversy. 335

 

stood to make a very suitable submission to you.” On this
explanation, Mr. Shirley and his friends were invited by Wes-
ley to come to the Conference on the third day of its sitting.
The substance of the explanation was: “Whereas the doctrinal
points in the Minutes of a Conference, held in London, August
7, 1770, have been understood to favor ‘justification by works,’
now the Rev. John Wesley and others, assembled in Conference,
do declare that we had no such meaning, and that we abhor the
doctrine of ‘justification by works’ as a most periloys and abom-
inable doctrine.” And the reply was that the “declaration has
convinced Mr. Shirley he had mistaken the meaning of the doc-
trinal points in the Minutes of the Conference held in London,
August 7, 1770.”

Out of this affair grew a memorable controversy that ran
through years. The literature of it is a permanent and rich
contribution to the theology of Arminian Methodism. John
Fletcher came forward as the defender of Wesley. He issued
“The First Check to Antinomianism;” but he did not content
himself with defending the doctrinal consistency and orthodoxy
of Wesley, so far merely as the Minutes were concerned. He
thoroughly discussed various other points of the quinquarticular
controversy; and he, as well as Wesley, was quickly assailed by
a number of replies, not couched in elegant or fraternal language.*

Richard Watson thus sums up and estimates the result of the
controversy:

Mr. Fletcher’s skill and admirable temper so fully fitted him to conduct tne
dispute which had arisen that Mr. Wesley left the contest chiefly to him, and
calmly pursued his labors; and the whole issued in a series of publications, from
the pen of the Vicar of Madeley, which, as a whole, can scarcely be too highly
praised or valued. While the language endures, they will effectually operate as
checks to Antinomianism in every subtle form which it may assume; and present
the pure and beautiful system of evangelical truth, as well guarded on the other
hand against Pelagian self-sufficiency. The Rev. Augustus Toplady, Mr. (after-
ward Sir Richard) Hill, and his brother, the Rev. Rowland Hill, with the Rev.
John Berridge, were his principal antagonists; but his learning, his acuteness, his
brilliant talent at illustrating an argument, and, above all, the hallowed spirit in
which he conducted the controversy, gave him a mighty superiority over his op
ponents; and, although there will be a difference of opinion, according to the sys-

 

*This abusive style the Calvinists even of that day disapproved of. Rowland Hill appears
to have incurred the displeasure of some of his brethren; for, in a second edition of his “Gentle
Btrictures,” he explains himself—lamely enough—that when he called Wesley ‘“ wretch,” and
“miscreant,” they must remember that “wretch” means “an unhappy person,” and “ misere
ant,” one whose belief is wrong!”
336 History of Methodism.

 

tems which different readers have adopted, as to the side on which the victory of
argument remains, there can be none as to which bore away the prize of temper. *

This controversy, painful as it was in many respects, and the cause of much un-
hallowed joy to the profane wits of the day, who were not a little gratified at this
exhibition of what they termed “spiritual gladiatorship,” has been productive of
important consequences in this country. It showed to the pious and moderate
Calvinists how well the richest views of evangelical truth could be united with Ar-
minianism; and it effected, by its bold and fearless exhibition of the logical vuu-
sequences of the doctrines of the decrees, much greater moderation in those who
still admitted them, and gave birth to some softened modifications of Calvinism
in the age that,followed—an effect which has remained to thisday. The disputes
on these subjects have, since that time, been less frequent, and more temperate;
nor have good men so much labored to depart to the greatest distance from each
other as to find a ground on which they could make the nearest approaches. This
has been especially the case between the Methodists and evangelical Dissenters.
Of Calvinism, since the period of this controversy, the Methodist preachers and
Societies have been in no danger; so powerful and complete was its effect upon
them. At no Conference, since that of 1770, has it been necessary again to ask,
“Wherein have we leaned too much to Calvinism?”

In the “Short History of the People called Methodists,” Wes-
ley says: “March 13, 1757, finding myself weak at Snowfields, I
prayed that God, if he saw good, would send me help at the chap-
els. Hedidso. As soon as I had done preaching Mr. Fletcher
came, who had just then been ordained priest, and hastened to
the chapel on purpose to assist me, as he supposed me to be alone.
How wonderful are the ways of God! When my bodily strength
failed, and no clergyman in England was able and willing to as-
sist me, he sent me help from the mountains of Switzerland; and
a helpmeet for me in every respect. Where could I have found
such another?”

John William de la Flechere was born in Nyon, in 1729, de-
scended of a noble Savoyard family. Religiously inclined from
his youth, he was designed by his parents for the Church. He
won distinguished success in the University of Geneva, but aban-
doned his intention of entering the ministry, feeling unable con-
scientiously to subscribe to the Calvinistic doctrines of the
Church of his country. His purpose was turned to a military life;
but disappointed therein, he came to England, and engaged as a
tutor in a family whose winters were spent in London, where he
heard the gospel to his conviction and conversion. He joined a
Methodist class in London, and continued for some time in the
metropolis assisting Wesley, and preaching and administering
the Lord’s Supper at Lady Huntingdon’s mansion. The patron,
John Fletcher. ; 337

 

in whose family he had been tutor, offered him the living of Dun-
ham-—parish small, labor light, and income good (£400). But
Fletcher had preached several times in the populous parish of
Madeley, and had conceived such sympathy for its wretched in-
habitants that he declined the offer of Dunham as affording “too
much money and too little work.” His patron gave Dunham to
the Vicar of Madeley, and secured the latter for him, with more
work and less pay. He thus became settled in the obscure par-
ish which his name has rendered familiar to the Protestant world.
It was a region of mines and manufactures, with debased popu-
lation, and small congregation. For months he went about his
parish on the Sabbath morning, with bell in hand, to awake such
as excused their neglect of worship by alleging that they could
‘not wake early enough to prepare their families for the service.

With Wesley he counseled and codperated, while maintaining
the independent position of his vicarage: this gave great ad-
vantage to his defenses of Wesleyan doctrine and polity. On
the breaking out of the Calvinistic controversy, Lady Hunting.
don dismissed Benson, the head of Trevecca College, because
he did not believe the doctrine of absolute predestination.
Fletcher wrote her that he did hold “the possibility of salvation
for all men. If this is what you call Mr. Wesley’s opinion and
Arminianism, and if every Arminian must quit the college, I am
actually discharged; for, in my present view of things, I must
hold that sentiment if I believe that the Bible is true and that
God is love.” And he resigned the presidency of the college.
In the controversy that followed, his saintliness of churacter was
admitted even by opponents. Speaking of a call he made on
Fletcher during this discussion, a visitor remarks, “I went to see
a man with one foot in the grave, but found him with one foot
in heaven.” As he entered the parsonage twenty years after,
Berridge ran and took him in his arms, exclaiming: “My dear
brother, this is indeed a satisfaction I never expected! How
could we write against each other, when we both aim at the same
thing, the glory of God and the good of souls?”

Wesley desired Fletcher, his coadjutor, to be his successor also;
but his health gave way, and he modestly doubted his own fitness
for such a heavy care. He was married in 1781 to Mary Bosan.
quet, and thus two saintly lives were given, in one volume, to

“Christian biography. His death occurred four years afterward,
22
338 History of Methodism.

 

The year the health of John Fletcher failed, Wesley formed
an acquaintance with Thomas Coke. Born and educated at
Brecon, Wales, Coke was now twenty-nine years of age. He had
taker his degrees at Oxford, had received episcopal ordination,
and was curate at South Petherton. A friend loaned him the ser-
mons and journals of Wesley, and the “Checks” of Fletcher.
These books were, to use his own words, “the blessed mears of
bringing me among the despised people called Methodists, with
whom, God being my helper, I am determined to live and die.”
Wesley writes: “1776, August 13.—I preached at Taunton, and
afterward went with Mr. Brown to Kingston. Here I found a
clergyman, Dr. Coke, late a gentleman commoner of Jesus Col-
lege, Oxford, who came twenty miles on purpose to meet me. I
had much conversation with him; and a union then began which,
I trust, shall never end.” Thomas Maxfield, who, having ob-
tained ordination, had left Wesley and was pastor of an Inde-
pendent congregation near Petherton, was useful to the awakened
curate in explaining to him the way of salvation. Another cir-
cumstance happened at this time that greatly assisted Dr. Coke
in obtaining peace of mind. He had occasion to visit a wealthy
family in Devonshire, and among the laborers employed there
was a pious man, a member of the Methodist Society, who was
the leader of a small class. The Doctor found him out, and they
conversed very freely on the nature of pardon and the evidences
that accompany it, the witness of the Spirit, and the manner in
which we must come to God. After conversation they joined in
prayer, and were so united in spirit that Dr. Coke wished to know
something more about the Methodists, of whom he had heard so
many strange reports.

From the pulpit he soon announced the blessing he had expe-
rienced, and his language partook of the fervor of his spirit.
His custom of reading sermons was succeeded by the more nat-
ural and appropriate practice of preaching extemporaneously.
God was pleased to acknowedge his servant, by attending his
word with a peculiar unction, and under his first extemporary
sermon three souls were awakened. Preaching without a book,
the earnestness of his exhortations, the plainness of his reproofs,
and his establishing evening lectures in the village, all conspired
to give offense, and to create a general ferment in the parish.
As he had introduced into the church the practice of singing
Thomas Coke—Deed of Declaration. 339

 

hymns, the choir was greatly disgusted, and all parties joined
in the clamor against him. The rector dismissed him with every
circumstance of indignity, and to complete the triumph of his
enemies the parish bells chimed out the curate who had been
dubbed a Methodist.

At the Conference of 1778, Thomas Coke was stationed in Lon-
don. The report of his conversion, of his energetic preaching,
and his ill treatment at Petherton, reached London before his
appointment there, and excited strong prepossession in his favor.
His popularity in London was great, his congregations large,
and the Lord owned and blessed his labors with success. In the
year 1780 Coke began to travel extensively, under the direction
of Wesley, visiting and regulating the Societies; and from this
time he continued traveling almost incessantly, by land or water,
until death ended his earthly career. In the course of his jour-
neyings he visited Petherton. During his absence, time had
wrought a change in the disposition of the inhabitants and pro-
cured for him a gratifying reception. “ Well,” said some of his
former opponents, “ we as him out, and now we will atone for
our error by ringing him in.’

From the increase of the Societies in Ireland, Wesley judged
it necessary to hold a separate Conference for the Irish preach-
ers. The first session was in Dublin, 1782. By Wesley’s direc-
tion, Coke presided in it; and from this time for nearly thirty
years he generally filled the presidential chair in the Irish Con-
ference, and when not president of the British Conference, he
was accustomed to act as its secretary. Wesley called him his
right-hand.

To Dr. Coke is credited the suggestion which secured the Wes-
leyan chapels, and consequently the economy of Wesleyan Meth-
odism, after the death of the Founder. Most of the trust deeds
secured the right of appointing preachers for the chapels to him,
while many vested that right in the Conference. But who were
the Conference? It was composed of such preachers as Mr.
Wesley called together to counsel with him, and none others. At
his death the word Conference would have no legal meaning.
This result many feared, and some hoped, would prove fatal to
the union of the Societies. Wesley, after legal advice, prepared
a “Deed of Declaration,” constituting one hundred preachers,
whom he named therein, the Conference of the people called
340 History of Methodism.

 

Methodists—making provision for the filling of vacancies and for
their annual meeting, and defining their duties and powers so as
to secure the occupancy of the meeting-houses, and other Socie-
ty property, to the Methodists, according to the original design.
This deed being recorded in the High Court of Chancery, the
questions of identity, doctrine, and government were settled.

The “Deed” has stood the test of litigation and of revolution,
It has proved a sheet-anchor. Of course preachers who were ex-
pecting to settle down into snug berths of Independency upon the
dissolution of the United Society were disappointed, as also were
trustees, who meant to call and govern pastors; and land propri-
etors, who were waiting for the buildings and grounds to revert.
A few itinerants, of age and standing, whose names were not
included in the legal hundred, were displeased and withdrew.
Whitehead and Hampson, wrote, each in his own style, a history
of Wesley and Methodism, from which the enemies of both have
not ceased, to this day, to supply themselves with weapons offen-
sive. But the “Deed” was accepted by the great body of preach-
ers and people as a timely and most judicious instrument. After
some perturbations, the practical good sense and constitution-
abiding temper which are characteristic of Englishmen prevailed,
and Wesleyan Methodism settled down to its great mission.

The “Deed of Declaration,” while conserving the doctrinal
and itinerant. plan under which Methodism had worked for more
than forty years, proved sufficiently flexible, under the patient
and wise handling of Englishmen, for the expansion of educa-
tional and missionary operations to an extent not dreamed of by
Wesley; and also, in late years, for the admission of a practical
system of lay representation at the Annual Conference. Instead
of being scattered at the death of their Founder, the Societies
struck their roots deeper, and extended their branches wider.
Says Thomas Jackson: “ Extensive revivals broke out in several
places; new Societies were formed, and older ones were quickened
and augmented; and many chapels, of various sizes, were erected
and enlarged. Within ten years after Mr. Wesley’s death, the
Societies were increased in Great Britain alone more than forty
thousand members; and in twenty years, they were increased up-
ward of one hundred thousand.”

At the British Conference of 1784, the ‘Deed of Declaration,”
which gave consistency and permanence to Methodism at home.
Church Government for America. 341

 

was announced as enrolled and in operation; and at the same
Conference was announced the carrying out of another measure
of aqual importance to Methodism in America. It had been un-
dor consideration and virtually determined on before; but Fletch-
er was present with Wesley and Coke at the Leeds Conference,
and there, with his assistance, the details were settled.

The zeal, the ability, and the piety which Coke had for several
years manifested, both in England and Ireland, combined to
point him out as the most suitable person to engage in this ardu-
ous work, and to assume that character with which Wesley was
about to invest him. Accordingly, in the month of February,
1784, he called Coke into his private chamber, ‘and, after some
preparatory observations, introduced the important subject to
him in nearly the following manner:

That, as the Revolution in America had separated the United States from the
mother country forever, and the Episcopal Establishment was utterly abolished,
the Societies had been represented to him in a most deplorable condition. That
an appeal had also been made to him through Mr. Asbury, in which he was re-
quested to provide for them some mode of Church government suited to their -
exigences; and that having long and seriously revolved the subject in his thoughts,
he intended to adopt the plan which he was now about to unfold. That as he had
invariably endeavored, in every step he had taken, to keep as closely to the Bible
as possible, so, on the present occasion, he hoped he was not about to deviate from
it. That, keeping his eyes upon the conduct of the primitive Churches in the
ages of-unadulterated Christianity, he had much admired the mode of ordaining
bishops which the Church of Alexandria had practiced. That to preserve its pu-
rity, that Church would never suffer the interference of a foreign bishop in any of
their ordinations; but that the presbyters of that venerable apostolic Church, on
the death of a bishop, exercised the right of ordaining another from their own
body, by the laying on of their own hands; and that this practice continued among
them for two hundred years, till the days of Dionysius. And finally, that, being
himself a presbyter, he wished Dr. Coke to accept ordination from his hands, and
to proceed in that character to the continent of America, to superintend the Soci-
ties in the United States.*

Coke was startled at a measure so unprecedented in modern
days, and time was allowed him to deliberate on it. Two months,
however, had scarcely elapsed, before he wrote to Mr. Wesley,
informing him that he was ready to codperate with him. At the
ensuing Conference (Leeds, 1784), Wesley stated his intention
to the preachers present. Whatcoat and Vasey offered their
services to accompany Dr. Coke in the character of missionaries.
It is to this measure that Wesley alludes in his journal: “On

W * Life of Coke, by Samuel Drew, page 64.

 
342 History of Methodism.

 

Wednesday, September 1st, being now clear in my own mind, I
took a step which I had long weighed.”

The Conference at Leeds ended, Wesley repaired to Bristol,
and Coke to London to make arrangements for his departure.
He had not, however, been long in London, before he received a
letter from Wesley, requesting him to repair immediately to Bris-
tol, and to bring with him the Rev. Mr. Creighton, a regularly
ordained minister, who was then officiating 1 in Wesley’s chapels
in London, and assisting him in various branches of his minis-
terial duties. The Doctor and Mr. Creighton accordingly met
him in Bristol, when, with their assistance, he ordained Richard
Whatcoat and Thomas Vasey presbyters for America, having first
ordained them deacons; and being peculiarly attached to every
rite of the Church of England, he afterward ordained Dr. Coke
a superintendent, or bishop, being assisted therein by presby-
ters, according to the usual order, and gave him letters of ordina-
tion under his hand and seal. Of these letters of ordination the
following is a copy, carefully transcribed from the original: in
Wesley’s own handwriting:

To all to whom these presents shall come, John Wesley, late Fellow of Lincoln
College, in Oxford, Presbyter of the Church of England, sendeth greeting.

Whereas many of the people in the southern provinces of North America, who
desire to continue under my care, and still adhere to the doctrines and discipline
of the Church of England, are greatly distressed for want of ministers to adminis-
ter the sacraments of baptism and the Lord’s Supper, according to the usage of the
said Church; and whereas there does not appear to be any other way of supplying
them with ministers:

Know all men that I, John Wesley, think myself to be providentially called
at this time to set apart some persons for the work of the ministry in America.
And therefore, under the protection of Almighty God, and with a single eye to his
glory, I have this day set apart, as a Superintendent, by the imposition of my
hands, and prayer (being assisted by other ordained ministers), Thomas Coke, Doc-
tor of Civil Law, a’ Presbyter of the Church of England, and a man whom J judge
to be well qualified for that great work. And I do hereby recommend him to all
whom it may concern as a fit person to preside over the flock of Christ. In testi
mony whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and seal, this second day of Septem
ber, in.the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and eighty-four.

JoHN WESLEY.

Wesley wrote the following letter, which Dr. Coke was directed
to print and circulate among the Societies on his arrival in Amer-
ica, and which, accordingly, was printed and circulated in Amer-
ica, and made the basis of the further action that was taken after
his arrival. It possesses high historical value and importance:
Wesley’s Circular Letter. 345

 

“ BRISTOL, September 10, 1784.
“To Dr. Coke, Mr. Asbury, and our brethren in North America.

“By a very uncommon train of providences, many of the prov-
inces of North America are totally disjoined from the mother
country, and erected into independent States. The English Gov-
ernment has no authority over them, either civil or ecclesiastical,
any more than over the States of Holland. A civil authority is
axercised over them, partly by the Congress, partly by the pro-
vincial assemblies. But no one either exercises or claims any
ecclesiastical authority at all. In this peculiar situation, some
thousands of the inhabitants of these States desire my advice;
and in compliance with their desire, I have drawn up a little
sketch.

“Lord King’s account of the primitive Church convinced me,
many years ago, that bishops and presbyters are the same order,
and consequently have the same right to ordain. For many years
I have been importuned, from time to time, to exercise this right,
by ordaining part of our traveling preachers. But I have still
refused; not only for peace’s sake, but because-I was determined,
as little as possible, to violate the established order of the na-
tional Church, to which I belonged.

“But the case is widely different between England and North
America. Here are bishops who have a legal jurisdiction. In
America there are none, neither any parish ministers; so that for
some hundreds of miles together there is none either to baptize
or administer the Lord’s Supper. Here, therefore, my scruples
are at an end; and I conceive myself at full liberty, as I violate
no order, and invade no man’s right, by appointing and Reading
laborers into the harvest.

“T have accordingly appointed Dr. Coke and Mr. Francis As-
bury to be joint superintendents over our brethren in North
America; as also Richard Whatcoat and Thomas Vasey to act as
elders among them, by baptizing and administering the Lord’s
Supper. And I have prepared a liturgy, little differing from that
of the Church of England (I think the best constituted national
Church in the world), which I advise all the traveling preachers
to use on the Lord’s-day in all the congregations, reading the
litany only on Wednesdays and Fridays, and praying extempore
on all other days. I also advise the elders to administer thr
Supper of the Lord on every Lord’s-day.
344 History of Methodism.

 

“Tf any one will point out a more rational and scriptural way
of feeding and guiding these poor sheep in the wilderness, I will
gladly embrace it. At present I cannot see any better method
than that I have taken.

“Tt has indeed been proposed to desire the English bishops to
ordain part of our preachers for America. But to this I object:
1. I desired the Bishop of London to ordain one, but could not
prevail. 2. If they consented, we know the slowness of their
proceedings; but the matter admits of no delay. 3. If they
would ordain them now, they would expect to govern them. And
how grievously would this entangle us! 4 As our American
brethren are now totally disentangled, both from the State and
the English hierarchy, we dare not entangle them again either
with the one or the other. They are now at full liberty simply to
follow the Scriptures and the primitive Church. And we judge
it best that they should stand fast in that liberty wherewith God
has so strangely made them free. JoHuN WESLEY.”

The abridgment of the English liturgy, alluded to in the
above paper, was not only prepared but printed by Wesley, and
sent out by Coke. Besides containing the “Sunday service,”
it contained forms for the administration of baptism and the
Lord’s Supper, for marriage and burial, and also forms for the
ordination of deacons, elders, and superintendents—the three
distinct offices of the ministry in an episcopally constituted
Church. The name of bishop, in the English ordinal, is changed
to superintendent, and the name of presbyter, or priest, to elder
—the new names being, in both cases, synonymous with the old
ones, and the relative duties the same.

Being now prepared for the great work before him, Thomas
Coke, with his companions, Richard Whatcoat and Thomas Vasey,
embarked on board a vessel bound to New York. They sailed
from Bristol on the 18th of September.
CHAPTER XXVI.

The Christmas Conference—Events Before and After—Organization and Uburch
Extension—Asbury Crossing the Mountains—Methodism Planted on the South-
ern Frontier—On the Western—On the Northern—And in Novia Scotia.

ISHOP COKE and the two accompanying presbyters
landed at New York, November 3, 1784, and were wel-
comed by John Dickins, the Methodist preacher of the city.
He had been one of the Fluvanna Conference. The letter, four
years before, setting forth the preachers’ appeal to the Founder
of Methodism for help had been drawn by hishand. The help-
ers had come, and the provisions for the case were so complete
and satisfactory that he not only approved them but wished to
publish the whole scheme at once, for the pleasure of all con-
cerned. It was deemed expedient, however, to make no fur-
ther disclosure till Asbury could be consulted.

Preaching and traveling toward the South, they passed through
Philadelphia, and came to Wilmington, to Dover, and to a chapel
where Asbury had a quarterly-meeting appointed. He was com-
ing up from the peninsula to hold it. Judge Barratt contributed
so liberally to the building of this first chapel in Delaware that
it was called by his name. Of brick, forty-eight by forty-two
feet, with galleries and a vestry, it was long considered the best
country chapel in Methodism. It required influence as well as
money to build it; for when so substantial a structure was going
up, one of the Sanballats of the community declared it was “un-
necessary to provide such a place of worship for the Methodists,
for by the time the war is over a corn-crib will hold them all.”
On Sunday, November 14; Coke arrived, with Whatcoat, at Bar-
ratt’s Chapel. He isin the midst of new and interesting scenes,
and describes them:

In this chapel in the midst of a forest, I had a noble congregation, to whom I
endeavored to set forth the Redeemer as our wisdom, righteousness, sanctification,
and redemption. After the sermon, a plain, robust man came up to me in the
pulpit and kissed me. I thought it could be no other than Mr. Asbury, and I was
not deceived. I administered the sacrament, after preaching, to five or six hun-
dred communicants, and held a love-feast. It was the best season I ever knew,
except one at Charlemont in Ireland. After dinner Mr. Asbury and I had a pri-

(345)
346 History of Methodism.

 

vate conversation on the future management of our affairs in America. He in
formed me that he had received some intimations of my arrival on the continent,
and had collected a considerable number of the preachers to form a council, and
if they were of opinion that it would be expedient immediately to call a Confer-
ence, it should be done. They were accordingly sent for, and, after debate, were
unanimously of that opinion. We therefore sent off Freeborn Garrettson, like an
arrow, from north to south, directing him to send messengers to the right and left,
and to gather all the preachers together at Baltimore on Christmas-eve. Mr. As-
bury has also drawn up for me a route of about a thousand miles in the meantime.
He has given me his black (Harry by name), and borrowed an excellent horse for
me. I exceedingly reverence Mr. Asbury; he has so much of wisdom and consid~
eration, so much meekness and love; and under all this, though hardly to be per-
ceived, so much command and authority. He and I had agreed to use our joint
endeavors to establish a school or college. I baptized here thirty or forty infants,
and seven adults. We had indeed a precious time at the baptism of the adults.
Asbury knew not that Coke was present till he arrived at the
chapel. The occasion was a quarterly-meeting of the circuit, and
fifteen of the preachers and a host of the laity were there. Hze-
kiel Cooper, who became an eminent preacher, was a spectator of
the scene, and says: “While Coke was preaching, Asbury came
into the congregation. A solemn pause and deep silence took
place at the close of the sermon, as an interval for introduction
and salutation. Asbury and Coke, with hearts full of brotherly
love, approached, embraced, and saluted each other. The’ other
preachers, at the same time, were melted into sympathy and tears
The congregation also caught the glowing emotion, and the whole
assembly, as if struck with a shock of heavenly electricity, burst
into a flood of tears. Every heart appeared overflowing with love
and fellowship, and an ecstasy of joy and gladness ensued. I can
never forget the affecting scene. The sacrament of the. Lord’s
Supper was administered, by the Doctor and Whatcoat, to several
hundred, and it was a blessed season to many souls, while in the
holy ordinance they discerned, through faith, the Lord’s body,
and showed forth his death. It is the more affecting to my mem-
ory, as it was the first time I ever partook of the Lord’s Supper,
and the first time that the ordinance was ever administered among
the Methodists by their own regularly ordained preachers.”
The route planned for Coke was through the Eastern Shore, and
Black Harry was guide, servant, and assistant preacher. “I have
now,” he writes on the 29th of November, “had the pleasure of
hearing Harry preach several times. I sometimes give notice,
immediately after preaching, that in a little time he will preach
Coke and Asbury. 347

 

to the blacks; but the whites always stay to hear him. It is ro-
mantic to see such numbers of horses fastened to the trees. Be-
ing engaged in the most solemn exercises of religion, for three
or four hours every day, I hardly know the day of the week;
every one appears to me like the Lord’s-day. Perhaps I have,
in this tour, baptized more children and adults than I should in
my whole life if stationed in an English parish.”

Coke passed through Queen Anne county—where Thomas
Ware, a young preacher, sketches him:

He passed through our circuit. I met him on the Eastern Shore of Maryland,
At first I was not pleased with his appearance. His stature, complexion, and voice
resembled those of a woman rather than those of a man; and his mannere were
too courtly for me. So unlike was he to the grave and, as I conceived, apcstolic
Asbury, that his appearance did not prepossess me favorably. He had several
appointments on the circuit, to which I conducted him; and, before we parted, I
saw so many things to admire in him that I no longer marveled at his being se-
lected by Wesley to serve us in the capacity of a superintendent. In public he
was generally admired, and in private he was very communicative and edifying.
At one time, in a large circle, he expressed himself in substance as follows: “T am
charmed by the spirit of my American brethren. Their love to Mr. Wesley is not
surpassed by that of their brethren in Europe. It is founded on the excellence—
the divinity—of the religion which he has been the instrument of reviving, and
which has shed its benign influence on this land of freedom. I see,” he continued,
with a countenance glowing with delight, ‘a great and effectual door opened for
the promulgation of Methodism in America, whose institutions I greatly admire,
and whose prosperity I no less wish than I do that of the land which gave me
birth. In the presence of Mr. Asbury I feel myself a child. He is, in my esti-
mation, the most apostolic man I ever saw, except Mr. Wesley.”

Thomas Ware had been admitted on trial in May preceding,
and in this connection we may present his impressions of As-
bury: “It was the first Conference I attended. There was quitea
number of preachers present. Although there were but few on
whose heads time had begun to snow, yet several of them ap-
peared to be way-worn and weather-beaten into premature old
age. Among these pioneers, Asbury, by common consent, stood
first and chief. There was something in his person, his eye, his
inien, and in the music of his voice, which interested all who saw
and heard him. He possessed much natural wit, and was capa-
ble of the severest satire; but grace and good sense so far pre-
dominated that he never descended to any thing beneath the dig-
nity of a man and a Christian minister. In prayer he excelled.”
Garrettson says, “He prayed the best, and he prayed the most,
348 History of Methodism.

of any man J ever knew.” Another declared that though a strong
preacher, and sometimes impressively eloquent, his prayers nearly
always made his sermons a disappointment to strangers.

Whatcoat and Vasey had accompanied Asbury from Barratt’s
Chapel over the Western Shore of Maryland. The 26th of No-
vember Asbury observed “as a day of fasting and prayer, that I
might,” he says, “know the will of God in the matter that is
shortly to come before our Conference; the preachers and people
seem to be much pleased with the projected plan; I myself am
led to think it is of the Lord. I am. not tickled with the honor
to be gained; I see danger in the way. My soul waits upon God.
O that he may lead us in the way we should go!”

About the middle of December they all met at Perry Hall, and
Gough’s ample hospitalities were well suited to their deliberations.
“Here,” says Coke, “I have a noble room to myself, where Mr.
Asbury and I may, in the course of a week, mature every thing
for the Conference.” Garrettson had proved a good herald. In
six weeks he had compassed most of the land, and gathered to
Baltimore over sixty out of eighty-three traveling preachers.
On Friday, the 24th of December, 1784, the little company at
Perry Hall rode to Baltimore, and at ten o’clock a.m. began the
first “General Conference,” in the Lovely Lane Chapel.

Coke took the chair, and the “Circular Letter” of Wesley was
read. In accordance with this document, says Asbury, “it was
agreed to form ourselves into an Episcopal Church, and to have
superintendents, elders, and deacons.” Asbury declined ordina-
tion to the superintendency, unless, in addition to the appoint-
ment of Wesley, his brethren should formally elect him to that
office.* He was unanimously elected; and on the second day of the
session (25th) he was ordained deacon by Coke, assisted by his
presbyters, Vasey and Whatcoat; on Sunday, the third day, they
ordained him elder; on Monday he was consecrated superintendent,
or bishop—his friend, Otterbein, of the German Church, assist-
ing Coke and his elders in the rite, at Asbury’s special request.
Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday were spent in enacting rules
of discipline, and in the election of preachers to orders. On Fri-

 

*A departure from Wesley’s plan. We owe constitutional government, from
the beginning, to Asbury. Coke yielded to American ideas, but regretted it when
Wesley’s nominees for the episcopacy were afterward rejected, and when other
results of Conference autonomy followed. (Sou. Quar. Rev., July, 1885, p. 377.)
The “Christmas Conference.” 349

 

day several deacons were ordained; on Saturday, January Ist,
the project of Cokesbury College at Abingdon was considered;
on Sunday, the 2d, ten elders (previously ordained deacons) and
one deacon were ordained; and then the General Confe1ence-—
known as the Christmas Conference—adjourned.

The elders were John Tunnell, William Gill, Le Roy Cole,
Nelson Reed, John Haggerty, Reuben Ellis, Richard Ivey, Hen.
ry Willis, James O’Kelly, and Beverly Allen. Tunnell and Wil-
lis were “on the extremities of the work,” and perhaps were ab-
sent on thataccount. They and Allen were ordained subsequent-
ly. John Dickins, Ignatius Pigman, and Caleb Boyer were chosen
deacons. Boyer and Pigman were ordained in June following
at the Conference in Baltimore. In compliance with the call
from Nova Scotia, Garrettson and James O. Cromwell were or-
dained elders for that province. Jeremiah Lambert was ordained

‘to the same office for Antigua, in the West Indies.

Watters says that Wesley’s plan was adopted, “in a regular

formal manner, with not one dissenting voice.” Black, from
Nova Scotia, had come for help; he gazed upon the scene with
admiration. “Perhaps,” he says, “such a number of holy, zeal-
ous, godly men never before met together in Maryland, perhaps
not on the continent of America.” Their work of ten days has
been before us for a century, and speaks for itself. Says a chron-
icler of the occasion: “The secret of their success was their one-
ness of spirit. Like the disciples in the chamber at Jerusalem,
‘they were all of one heart and of one mind.’ Whoever looks
at the system of rules or of government devised and sent forth
by the General Conference of 1784 must concede to it a ‘ whole-
sidedness,’ and unselfishness both as it regards the preachers
themselves and the people under their care.”
_ Coke’s ordination sermon was published. It did not fall dead
from the press. He was called to account in England for some
expressions in it—perhaps for these: “ You may now.perceive the
dreadful effects of raising immoral or unconverted men to the goy-
ernment of the Church. The baneful influence of their exam-
ple is so extensive that the skill and cruelty of devils can hardly
fabricate a greater curse than an irreligious bishop. But thou,
O man of God, follow after righteousness, godliness, patience,
and meekness. Be an example to the believers in word, in con
versation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity.”
350 History of Methodism.

 

The “Articles of Religion” prepared by Wesley are an abridg-
ment of the “Thirty-nine Articles” of the Church of England,
omitting the third, eighth, thirteenth, fifteenth, seventeenth (Cal-
vinistic), eighteenth, twentieth, twenty-first, twenty-third, thirty-
fifth, thirty-sixth, and thirty-seventh of the latter, also parts of the
sixth, ninth, and nineteenth, and introducing verbal emendations
of others. These, being for the first time proposéd in form, were
unanimously adopted. The Conference added an article on Civil
Rulers, numbered twenty-three; making in all twenty-five.

The standards of doctrine received by British Methodism, and
in the late “Deed of Declaration” named, were Wesley’s four
volumes of sermons (comprising from one to fifty-three,.in our
current series) and “Notes on the New Testament.” These had
also been received in America, and the preachers in Conference
assembled had more than once pledged themselves to “preach
the doctrines taught in the four volumes of sermons and the
‘Notes on the New Testament.’” They had also resolved, by
way of guarding against unsound Huropean preachers who might
come over, to hold them to that doctrinal test. The “Articles”
are a terse and strong setting forth of Christian dogma, so far
as they go; and they could not have been left out of any abridg-
ment of the “ Book of Common Prayer,” by Wesley, without an
improper inference; but there are essential Wesleyan doctrines
not mentioned in them, as the witness of the Spirit and Chris-
tian perfection. The “Articles of Religion,” together with the
established standards ” of doctrine, make a system as complete
as it is orthodox; and Episcopal Methodism has not only been
faithful to these Articles and standards, but has thrown around
them the strongest constitutional guards.

Under the “General Rules” the membership of Methodism,
both in England and America, had been gathered; and this brief
and, for its size, very, complete system of Christian ethics or
morals was ordered to be read “once a year in every congrega-
tion, and once a quarter in every Society.”

No person could be ordained a superintendent, elder, or deacon,
without the consent of a majority of the Conference, and the
consent and imposition of the hands of a superintendent. The
superintendent was made amenable for his conduct to the Con-
ference, “who have power to expel him for improper conduct if
they see it necessary.” If by death, expulsion, o1 otherwise.
Doings of the Christmas Conference. 851

 

there be no superintendent remaining in our Church, “the Con-
ference shall elect one, and the elders, or any three of them, shall]
ordain him according to our liturgy.”

The business was transacted under the form of questions and
answers: “Question 37: What shall be the regular annual salary
of the elders, deacons, and helpers? Answer: Sixty-four dollars
and no more; and for each preacher’s wife sixty-four dollars; and
for each preacher’s child, if under the age of six years, there shal:
be allowed sixteen dollars; and for each child of the age of six
and under the age of eleven years twenty-one dollars and thirty.
three cents.” This rule of allowance for children was canceled
in 1787; and no regular provision was made until 1800.

It was enacted: “ We will on no account whatsoever suffer any
elder or deacon among us to receive a fee or present for admin-
istering the ordinance of marriage, baptism, or the burial of
the dead; freely we receive, and freely we give.” “After a few
years,” says Jesse Lee, “it was thought best to take a present for
performing the marriage ceremony; and for the money so received
to be given in to the stewards of the circuit, to be applied to the
making up of the preacher’s quarterage; but in case the preach-
ers of the circuit received their quarterage without it, then the
money so received should be brought to the next Conference
and be applied to the making up of the deficiencies of the preach-
ers. But there was another alteration made in 1800, and each
preacher was then allowed to take for marrying people what they
chose to give him, and to keep it, without giving any account of
it; which custom has prevailed ever since.” Connectionalism,
unity, pervaded every thing. The ministry was yet one family,
with common privations and common resources.

The Conference devised a plan of relief for “superannuated
preachers, and the widows and orphans of preachers.” It was
called the “ Preachers’ Fund,” and was to be provided by the
preachers themselves paying, at their admission to the Confer-
ence and annually afterward, two dollars. The Chartered Fund,
incorporated in 1797, absorbed and superseded this plan. But
the “Conference Collection ”—the best reliance—an annual con-
tribution by the Church in this behalf, soon came into vogue, and
continues to this day.

A strong deliverance on the subject of slavery was made, and
specific and peremptory directions for emancipation were laid
352 History of Methodism.

 

down, to which we must recur, in connection with the whole
subject, for it made much history.

The administration of the sacraments was provided for, and
rules prescribed for uniformity and propriety and profiting in
the same. The admission of persons into the Church was regu-
lated, and also the form of public worship, of love-feasts, and
class-meetings. Prohibitions were enacted against superfluity
and extravagance in apparel, and the marriage of Christians with
unawakened persons. Directions were given for singing, and
how congregations should be seated—“ let the men and women
sit apart in all our chapels.”

Rules were given for the conduct of preachers: how their time
should be occupied and their labors bestowed for the edification
of the Church—in preaching, in visiting, in instructing the chil-
dren, in studying: saving souls is the great business.

The men of 1784 were mostly young or middle-aged. Several
old heads were there on young shoulders. They were no consti-
tution-mongers. Of course they left undone some things which
afterward had to be done; and they did some things which had
to be undone. Special legislation, from the beginning, has been
prolific of repeals; and Methodists have been warned, from that
day to this, not to be wise above what is written.

They adjourned without providing for any subsequent General
Conference. No division of the wide field into Annual Confer-
ences, with boundaries, was made until twelve years later. The
Bishops called the itinerant ministers to meet annually where it
was most convenient for any considerable number of them. All
such sessions, down to the organization of the quadrennial Gen-
eral Conference, were considered as adjourned meetings of the un-
divided ministry. The enactments of no one session were bind-
ing on general questions till they had been virtually adopted at
the other sessions of the same ecclesiastical year, and had thus
become the expression of a majority of the ministry.

No limitation of the pastoral term was fixed. Preachers had
been exchanging circuits annually, semi-annually, and even quar-
terly. In the “Deed of Declaration,” the maximum had been
fixed at three years for the British Methodists, and so re-
mains to this day. Wesley was in principle an itinerant.
Speaking of certain preachers, he said: “Be their talents ever so
great, they will, erelong, grow dead themselves, and so will most
Church Extension. 353

 

of those that hear them. I know, were I myself to preach one
whole year in one place, I should preach both myself and most
of my congregation asleep. Nor can I ever believe it was ever
the will of our Lord that any congregation should have one
teacher only. We have found, by long and constant experience,
that a frequent change of teachers is best. This preacher has
one talent, that another. No one, whom I ever knew, has all the
talents which are needful for beginning, continuing, and perfect-
ing the work of grace in a whole congregation.”

The work of Church extension began at the Christmas Con-
ference. Asbury took horse the day after adjournment and rode
forty miles. Lambert left for Antigua. Garrettson and Crom-
well embarked for Nova Scotia, in view of which they had been
ordained, about the middle of February; a voyage, at that season,
uncomfortable and even dangerous. Methodism had obtained a
limited existence among the colonists composing the Eastern
British Provinces, about four years before, by the labors of Will-
iam Black. He had succeeded in raising a few Societies, and
came to Baltimore to press the importance of sending missiona-
ries to that promising field. Garrettson and Cromwell landed at
Halifax, and began their missionary labors—the first missionaries
from the United States to “foreign lands;” and the first mission-
ary collection of the Methodist Episcopal Church was taken up the
same year by the bishops for the support of these missionaries
(£30). They found there John Mann—a convert of Boardman
in New York ten years before—who had supplied the John Street
Church during the Revolutionary War, while the English held
the city. He joined with them, and madea fourth itinerant. They
found also some loyal refugees from the States, and formed a Soci-
ety with which to begin the organization of Methodism 1n the col-
ony. The missionaries had success. They extended their field to
the island of Newfoundland and to New Brunswick. Garrettison
labored in these provinces for two years. Wesley, at his in-
stance, sent other missionaries;. and, when Garrettson returned
to the States, there were in Nova Scotia over seven hundred mem-
bers. Methodism has long had in Eastern British America thou-
sands of members, with chapels and all the appliances of relig-
ious prosperity, and an able corps of preachers.

Bishop Asbury determined to occupy the fields which had been
attempted nearly fifty years before by the Oxford Methodists

23
354 History of Methodism.

and turned his face to South Carolina and Georgia. He left
Baltimore, January, 4, 1785, in company with Woolman Hickson,
and on the 8th reached Culpepper, Virginia, where Henry Willis
had stopped on his way to the Conference. The next day he read
prayers, preached, and ordained Willis a deacon—his first act of
ordination—and baptized some children. ‘Henry Willis now
joined himself to the company, and when they arrived at Carter a
Church on the 18th, the Bishop ordained him elder, administered
the sacrament, and held the love-feast. The Lord was with them
eminently in each of these services. Henry Willis had gone be-
yond the mountains the last year, and was too far west to be
reached by Garrettson when summoning men to the Christmas
Conference; but he got word of it and was trying to reach the
post of duty, when Asbury met him. Under his guidance they
passed into North Carolina, and reached the mansion of Colonel
Herndon, on the head-waters of the Pedee, and within the bounds
ef the Yadkin Circuit. Here they rested for a few days, and
made preparation for their journey into South Carolina. Jesse
Lee came up from Salisbury to attend the Bishop’s appointment
at this place, and was requested to travel with him during his
trip to the South. “Nothing,” says Asbury, “could have better
pleased our old Church folks than the late step we have taken in
administering the ordinances; to the Catholic Presbyterians it
also gives satisfaction; but the Baptists are discontented.”

The company, now fully formed, entered upon their journey,
daily in every house ceasing not to teach and preach Jesus Christ
and him crucified. They entered South Carolina at Cheraw, and
were welcomed to the hospitalities of a merchant who had been
a Methodist in Virginia, and in whose employment there was a
clerk, a native of Massachusetts. This young man gave Lee an
account of the customs and religious life of New England, and
kindled in him a desire, that ripened into a purpose, to visit that
part of the country on a mission. They arrived at George.
town, and Bishop Asbury preached at night to a serious con-
gregation. Just as they were about to start for the place of wor-
ship, the gentleman at whose house they were stopping excused
himself, “as it was his turn to superintend a ball that night.”
They prayed that if the Lord had called them to Georgetown, he
would open the heart and house of some other person to receive
them. At the close of the service Mr. Wayne a cousin of Ger
Bishop Asbury in the South. 355

 

eral Anthony Wayne, invited them to call on him, and from that
time his house became a home for Methodist preachers. They
breakfasted with him, and on leaving he showed them the way
to the river, and paid their ferriage.

According to custom, Willis went ahead of the party to put
out appointments for preaching; and their host was thoughtful
and kind enough to furnish him with a letter of introduction to
a friend in Charleston. Asbury’s journal says:

February 24.—We traveled on through a barren country, in all respects, to
Charleston. We came that evening to Scott’s, where the people seemed to be mer-
ry; they soon became mute. We talked and prayed with them. In the morning,
when we took our leave of them, they would receive nothing. Wemet Brother Wil
lis. He had gone along before us, and had made an acquaintance with Mr. Wells.
a respectable merchant of the city, to whom he had carried letters of introduction
from Mr. Wayne. I jogged on, dejected in spirit, and came to Mr. Wells's. We
obtained the use of an old meeting-house belonging to the General Baptists, in
which they had ceased to preach. Brother Willis preacked at noon, Brother Lee
morning and evening. .

Charleston was almost as hard a place to gain a footing in as
Paul and Silas found Philippito be. “The inhabitants are vain
and wicked to a proverb,” is Asbury’s observation. His first ser-
mon was on March 2d; he “had but little enlargement.’ Next day.
the people were more solemn and attentive. ‘TI find,” he says,
“there are here who oppose us—I leave the Lord to look to his
own cause. I told my hearers that I expected to stay in the city
but seven days; that I should preach every night, if they would
favor me with their company, and that I should speak on sub-
jects of primary importance to their souls, and explain the essen-
{ial doctrines taught and held by the Methodists.” Then fol-
lowed “a discourse on the nature of conviction for sin,” and some
appeared to feel. After a sermon on the nature and necessity
of repentance, he adds: “Ministers who had represented our
principles in an unfavorable light, and strove to prepossess the
people’s minds against our doctrines—even these ministers cama
tohear. This afternoon Mr. Wells began to feel conviction; my
soul praised the Lord for this fruit of our labors, this answer tu
our prayers.” Fruit begins to appear. Of Wednesday, the 8th
of March, he writes: “I had a good time on Matthew vii. 7. In
the evening the clouds about Mr. Wells began to disperse; in
the morning he could rejoice in the Lord. How great is the
work of God!—once a sinner, yesterday a seeker, and now his
350 History of Methodism.

 

adopted child! Now we know that God hath brought us here,
and have a hope that there will be a glorious work among the
people—at least among the Africans.” The day following he
preached his last sermon, and leaves with these reflections: “I
loved and pitied the people, and left some under gracious im-
pressions. We took our leave; and had the satisfaction of ub.
serving that Mrs. Wells appeared to be very sensibly affected.”

On their return through Georgetown he “found Mrs. Wayue
under deep distress of soul.’ So the work, as of old, begins and
spreads. Henry Willis was left in Charleston, its first stationed
preacher, and by his labors the church was organized which con-
tinues to this day.

Lee returned to his circuit and the Bishop passed on to meet
the first Annual Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church
in America, held at Green Hill’s in North Carolina, April 20,
1785. Willis at Charleston and Hickson at Georgetown made
those points the centers of their movements. They traveled up
the principal rivers—Pedee, Sentee, Wateree, and Broad—and
wherever settlements could be reached they established preach-
ing-places. The next year, about the same time, Bishop Asbury
made his second visit to South Carolina, and saw that seed had
fallen upon good ground. Henry Willis came as far as George-
town to meet him, and as they rode to Charleston, Asbury re-
cords: “It was no small comfort to me to see a very good frame
prepared for the erection of a meeting-house for us, on that very
road along which, last year, we had gone pensive and distressed,
without a friend to entertain us.” The services on Sunday (Jan.
15) in Charleston were hopeful: “ We had a solemn time in the
day, and a full house and good time in the evening. My heart
was much taken up with God. Our congregations are large, and
our people are encouraged to undertake the building of a meet-
ing-house this year.”

The Conference at Green Hill’s included all of Virginia, and of
North and South Carolina, who could be present, and they were
entertained in one house. Here Asbury was joined by Coke, who
says: “There were about twenty preachers, or more, in one house,
and by laying beds on the floors there was room for all. We
spent three days, from Wednesday to Friday inclusive, in Con-
ference, and a comfortable time we had together. In this divis-
ton we had an increase of nine hundred and ninety-one this year,
The Borders Stretched into Georgia. 357

 

and have stretched our borders into Georgia. Beverly Allen haa
all Georgia to range in.”

Beverly Allen was now ordained elder, and began to “range.”’
He turned out to be one of those popular preachers who find
work everywhere else but where they are appointed; who prom-
ise much and come to nothing: he came to worse than nothing.
The bad eminence of being the first apostate Methodist presby-
ter is his. He managed to get up a personal correspondence
with Wesley, by which he derived more consideration than he
was entitled to; married rich; fell into sin; was expelled; went
into business; failed; killed the marshal who was arresting him;
fled to a part of Kentucky in Logan county then called “ Rogues’
Harbor;” became a Universalist, and went out in obscure dark-
ness: all this within the next dozen years. Nevertheless, faithful
though less popular men were found to plant Methodism in
Georgia, and heroically they did it.

Next year John Major and Thomas Humphries were appointed
to that State. Presiding elders and their districts were not yet so
named and laid off; but an elder, to preach and administer the
sacraments, was assigned to a given region. South Carolina and
Georgia were under James Foster as elder this year (1786). He
had traveled in Virginia for two years, but excessive fasting and
labor in the open air had enfeebled his constitution, and he was
forced to locate. He removed to South Carolina, where he found
sume emigrant Methodists, and formed a circuit among them.
He reéntered the Conference, and this was his first work. It
was too great for him. His mental as well as his bodily strength
gave way, and he retired after one year. He spent the rest of
his life in visiting among Methodist families, conducting their
family devotions with much propriety, though unable to preach
tothem. He was noted for his amenity, his fine personal appear-
ance, and his usefulness.

Thomas Humphries, like Foster, was a Virginian, and had
traveled three years in his native State and in North Carolina.
After laboring a few years in Georgia, he moved to South Car-
olina, located within the bounds of Pedee Circuit, and was a use-
ful local preacher for the rest of hisdays. John Major, his coun-
tryman and colleague, was called the weeping prophet. He did
hard work for ten years, and ceased at once to work and live.

There were at that date in Georgia, as far as we can get thi
x
358 History of Methodism.

 

facts, three Episcopal churches without rectors, three Lutheran
churches, three Presbyterian, and three Baptist. We may safely
say there were not five hundred Christian people in all. The in-
habitants numbered eighty thousand, white and black. The so-
cial features of the country were those of all frontier settlements.
The field was indeed a wide one, a hard one, and yet an inviting
one. The two Georgia missionaries started from Conference fo:
their work. They probably came at once to Wilkes county,
where a few Virginia Methodists had settled, and then began to
explore and map out the country. They found the people every
where destitute of the Word. Save one or two Baptist churches
organized by Marshall and Mercer, there was no church of any
name north of Augusta. The western boundary of the State
was the Oconee River; the southern, Florida; in all this area
there were not more than seven Christian ministers. The set.
tlements were upon the creeks and rivers, and the inhabitants
were thinly settled all over the face of the land. The dwell-
ings were pole-cabins in the country, and even the villages were
built largely of logs. There were no houses of worship, and the
missionaries preached only in private dwellings. The work had
all to be laid out, und for the first year it is probable the two
preachers visited together the settlements which were thickest,
and organized Societies wherever they could. From the Minutes
we conclude that they compassed the country from the Indian
frontier on the north to the lower part of Burke county or
the south. During the year four hundred and thirty members
were brought into the Society, the larger number in Wilkes
county.*

One specimen of the mode and the measure of their operations
may serve. Henry Parks, a strong and brave young man from
North Carolina, with his young family settled in Elbert county,
where he was employed to oversee a plantation. His wife, Eliza-
beth Justice, had been baptized by Jarratt, and joined the Meth.
odists; but her husband was a stranger alike to grace and to them.
One day the news came that two Methodist preachers would hol:
a meeting in the neighborhood. She persuaded her husband to
go and hear them, and for the first time he heard, from Major, the
doctrine of a universal atonement.t He determined to be saved,
if he could be; was soon converted and joined the Methodist

 

*Smith’s History of Methodism in Georgia. t+ Ibid.
Rapid Growth of the Church. 359

 

Church; made his house a preaching-place; and afterward, with the
help of his neighbors, built a meeting-house. God prospered him
as far as he wished to be prospered in worldly matters, and blessed
him with a large family. Of these William J. Parks was the
youngest son, without mentioning whom the history of Georgia
preachers and Methodism could hardly be written. The venera-
ble patriarch lived until 1845. His descendants are among the
leading Methodists of that State, and are very numerous.

Major and Humphries had done good work during the year,
and at the next Conference they were reénforced by two young
men. Georgia was made a separate district, and Richard Ivey
was sent as elder. Circuits were now laid out. The Burke Cir-
cuit, including all that section south and south-west of Augusta,
was placed in charge of Major, with Matthew Harris to assist
him. Thomas Humphries and Moses Park took charge of all
the country north and north-west of Augusta. Of Ivey, the Min-
utes say: “He was from Virginia, a little man of quick and solid
parts. He was a holy, self-denying Christian that lived to be
useful. Many of the eighteen years that he was in the work he
acted as an elder in charge of a district.” He had acquired
valuable experience before he came to Georgia, where, after
four years’ service, his health failed, and the needs of an invalid
mother called him back home. A year after his location, he
passed to his final reward. The preachers pursued their labors
with great zeal, and at the end of 1787 there were over one thou.
sand one hundred members. ’ The Church had tripled its mem-
bership in one year. This success was not to be wondered at.
Ivey, Major, and Humphries were no common men, and the pio-
neers of Georgia heard for the first time the doctrines of a uni-
versal atonement and the Spirit’s witness.

It is supposed that during this year Humphries must have
preached in Augusta, and perhaps in Savannah, but all that was
accomplished was confined to the rural settlements. The Wash-
ington Circuit, much the largest, included all that section of
North-eastern and Eastern Georgia above Augusta. Georgia
was long the Southern frontier. It has been propitious for Meth-
odism. The leaven is in the lump, the seed is in the soil, and we
must now leave it for awhile.

South Carolina had been reénforced from the Conference
held at Salisbury, February, 1786. Henry Willis returned to
360) History of Methodism.

 

Charleston with Isaac Smith as his colleague. The last name in-
troduces us to a new man, who is hereafter to spend and be spent
on the Southern frontier. Isaac Smith, a native of Virginia, .
served as private and officer in the Revolutionary War; was present
at the battles of Princeton, Brandywine, Germantown, Monmouth,
and Stony Point, and bore the honorable scars of the conflict to
his grave. He had been a colleague of Lee, and also of Hum.
phries in North Carolina, and is to fill prominent appointments ir
South Carolina till 1796; then he locates and engages in mercan-
tile pursuits in Camden. Reéntering the itinerancy again, we
shall meet with him where difficult posts are to be occupied. When
he died in 1834, after more than half a century of ministerial la-
bor, the Minutes record: “ He was one of the fathers of the Church
in this country, and entitled to be had in everlasting remembrance.
We cannot trust ourselves to speak fully of him. He was the
oldest, and, what was well becoming the father of the Conference,
the most honored and beloved of all the preachers. Believing
every word of God, meek above the reach of provocation, and
thoroughly imbued with the spirit of love and devotion, he was
a saint indeed.”

His name is entered in the appointment at Charleston, but
this year he formed the famous Edisto Circuit, reaching from
Savannah River to within thirty miles of Charleston, and from
Coosawhatchie Swamp to Santee, returning to the ensuing Con-
ference two hundred and forty white members and four colored.
It was during this year (1786), wile forming the Edisto Circuit,
that, riding upon the banks of the Santee, he felt the need of a
deeper consecration to God; and dismounting from his horse, in
a grove beside the river, he had a season of wrestling prayer,
and from that time the assurance of God’s love never forsook
him for an hour. He would often come from his closet, after
remaining an hour upon his knees, with his face glowing with a
heavenly light. Says the historian of that time:

In this region (Edisto) the name Methodist was scarcely known till he visited
it. The new name and his heart-searching preaching caused much stir among the
people, as they had heard but little preaching before, and knew nothing of exper-
imental religion. Many were convicted and converted, and a number of Societies,
ware formed. It was no uncommon event for persons to fall under his pungent
preaching as suddenly as if they had been shot. The doctrine of the new birth was

no better understood by the people then than it was by Nicodemus, until they were
enlightened by his preaching. The pioneer of Methodism not only has to take
Some of the Master Workmen. 361

 

people as he finds them, but the gold has to be worked out of the ore. When Mr.
Smith was forming Edisto Circuit, a gentleman who was not a professor of religion
invited him to his home. While at his house his host observed that he frequently
retired into the woods, and on one occasion followed him, when, to his great as-
tonishment, he found him on his knees engaged in prayer. This strick him un-
der conviction, and was the cause of his embracing religion soon after. The hap-
py mixiure of dignity, pleasantness, and meekness in his countenance was calcu-
lated to win the good opinion of such as beheld him. His appearance and his
manners qualified him for the missionary work, and many of those whom he found
dead in sin, and their tongues defiled with profane language, he soon rejoiced to
near praising God. He, like most of his brethren that were engaged in planting
Methodism, did not weary his congregations with dry and tedious discourses, but
their sermons were short and energetic. They enforced their preaching with the
most consistent deportment in the families where they sojourned, always praying
with them and for them, and speaking to each individual on the great matter of
salvation.

Charleston, at last, began to show signs that Methodism had
driven down its stake and intended to holdon. The plain wooden
structure on Cumberland street, sixty by forty feet, with galler-
ies for the colored people, approached completion; and the “Blue
Meeting” house was ready for the next Conference, the first held
in the State. It cost about five thousand dollars, exclusive of
the one thousand five hundred dollar lot on which it stood; and
the preachers reported thirty-three white members and fifty-three
colored at the close of the year.

On the 12th of March, 1787, Bishop Asbury crossed the Little
Pedee, and, attended by Hope Hull, came to Georgetown, receiv-
ing information on the route that Bishop Coke was in Charles-
“ton. He had arrived there from the West Indies, in February;
had dedicated the new church, and was preaching daily. Such
was the spirit of hearing excited among the inhabitants that from
three to four hundred persons regularly attended the morning
preaching. Asbury says: “ We rode nearly fifty miles to get to
Georgetown. Here the scene was greatly changed—almost the
whole town came together to hear the word of the Lord. We
arrived in Charleston and met Dr. Coke. Here we have already
aspacious house prepared for us, and the congregations are crowd-
ed and solemn.” Conference opened March 22d, and closed the
29th. For many successive years the Conference met in Charles-
ton, until other places in the State became strong enough to con-
test this honor with it.

Two names appear this year on the Pedee Circuit that are
362 History of Methodism.

 

memorable—Hope Hull and Jeremiah Mastin. The latter was
a young man in the second year of his ministry. After travel-
ing the Pedee Circuit one year, he gave three years in succession
to the Holston country, and located in 1790. Hope Hull was a
native of Maryland, a classmate in the ministry of Mastin. Their
popularity was very great, only equaled by their efficiency. When
they left the Pedee country, Methodism was established there.
The number of members in this historic circuit was this yea
increased to seven hundred and ninety whites and thirty-three
colored. They also reported twenty-two churches, the most of
which had been built during their term of service.

Hope Hull, after spending a year in South Carolina, transferred
to Georgia, where he identified himself with the Church, and was
felt in the moral and intellectual development of the State. With
the exception of the year 1792, when he went to assist Jesse Lee
in New England, and traveled the Hartford Circuit in Connecticut,
Hope Hull gave the remainder of his ministerial life to Georgia.
He located in 1795; established an academy in Wilkes county;
removed to Athens in 1802; was one of the founders of the Geor-
gia University, and at one time its acting president. He died in
1818. One of his ablest contemporaries thus describes him:

Mr. Hull was a fine specimen of what may be regarded an old-fashioned Amer-
ican Methodist preacher. His oratory was natural, his action being the unaffected
expression of his inmost mind. Not only was there an entire freedom from every
thing like mannerism, but there was a great harmony between his gesticulation and
the expression of his countenance. He seemed, in some of his finest moods of
thought, to look his words into his audience. He was one of nature’s orators, who
never spoiled his speaking by scholastic restraints. He wisely cultivated his mind
and taste that he might rightly conceive and speak; but he left all external ora-
tory to find its inspiration ia his subject, and to warm itself into life in the glow
of his mind. Hence, in many of his masterly efforts, his words rushed upon his
au lience like an avalanche, and multitudes seemed to be carried before him like
the yielding captives of a stormed castle. Christians, entangled in the meshes of
Satan’s net, and ready to abandon their hope of the Divine mercy, have been
cleared of these entanglements under his judicious tracings of the Holy Spirit in
his manifold operations on the heart and conscience. Powerful emotion could be
seen as it played in unmistakable outline upon the anxious believer’s countenance,
while undergoing one of these spiritual siftings; and when, at last the verdict was
written on his heart that he was a child of God according to the rules of evidence
laid down, all the conventional rules about the propriety of praise were broken by
one welling wave of joy.*

 

*Dr. Lovick Pierce, io Sprague’s Annals.
Making the Grand Round. 363

 

It is the year of grace 1788, and of the organization of the
Methodist Episcopal Church in America the fourth. Eight
Annual Conferences are to be held this epochal year—five of
them for the first time. In order to realize the progress
made, let us take the first grand round with the General Su-
perintendent. Conferences have heretofore been confined to
the old settlements on the Atlantic coast; but in various di-
rections, north, south, west, and north-west, itinerants have
gone forth, reconnoitered the frontiers, selected the strategic
points under their leader’s eye, and been reénforced by him
according to the openings of Providence. It is time to devel
op and complete the system of occupation that has been
forming on the outskirts. Those vital centers of influence
and government—~ Conferences—must now be organized, so
that what has been gained may be held, and aggressive move-
ments may begin upon the regions beyond. We will start at
Charleston, which has just entertained its second Conference, and
keeping company with Bishop Asbury, return to the place of
setting out. Leaving Charleston, March 17, the Bishop says:
“Upon the whole, I have had more liberty to speak in Charles-
ton this visit than I ever had before, and am of opinion that Gad
will work here; but our friends are afraid of the cross.” Thirty-
six times did he visit that city after this date.

The Georgia Conference was to be held in the forks of Broad
River, then in Wilkes, now Elbert, county — probably at the
home of David Merriwether, who lived there, and who had recent-
ly joined the Church. Incompaay with Isaac Smith, the Bishop
made his way up the Saluda to the Broad River quarterly-meet-
ing. To reach it, he says: “We rode till one o’clock on Friday
the 21st of March; I believe we have traveled about two hundred
miles in five days; dear Brother Smith accompanied me. I was
so unwell that I had but little satisfaction at the quarterly-meet-
ing; my service was burdensome; but the people were lively."
Here he met Mason; and here too was John Major, who had come
to meet him. Consumption: was wearing this saintly man into
his grave; but he was well enough to exhort after Asbury had
preached. His journal says: “April 1—We crossed the Savan-
nah at the Forks, and came where I much wanted to be, in Geor-
gia. April 2.—I rested; and compiled two sections, which I shall
recommend to be put into our form of discipline in order to re.
364 History of Methodism.

 

move from Suciety, by regular steps, either preachers or people
that are disorderly.” There were ten present—six members of
the Conference and four probationers. The good Major was not
able to meet with his brethren; on his way to Conference he sunk,
aud near the time it ended its session he went to rest. —

Richard Ivey, Thomas Humphries, Moses Park, Hope Hull,
James Conner, Bennett Maxey, Isaac Smith, Matthew Harris, and
Reuben Ellis, and probably John Mason from the adjoining Cir-
cuit in South Carolina, constituted the Conference. Of these, six
unly were toremain inGeorgia. Three or four of them were quite
young; the rest, unmarried men of mature years. They received
their appointments, and the Bishop left them for Holston Con-
ference. A noble picket guard, they were to hold the Southern
frontier. No mean addition to their number was Hope Hull.
He was appointed to the Washington Circuit. He was called
the “ Broad-ax,” because of the power of his ministry. If not
the father of Georgia Methodism, he was second to no other in
fostering it.*

Emigrants from Virginia and North Carolina had moved be-
youd the Alleghanies, and settled in the valleys of the Holston
and Nollichucky and French Broad rivers; they had also vent-
ured into Kentucky and Middle Tennessee. The Indian dwelt in
the land. The pioneers were compelled to dwell for safety in
strongly defended forts, or “stations.” Among the emigrants,
there was occasionally a local preacher, hardy, godly, and gifted,
to preach to such a community, and to form small Societies in
various localities. :

As early as 1784, the itinerants crossed the mountains. ‘'wo
years later, James Haw and Benjamin Ogden were commis-
sioned for the wide circuit of “Kentucky.” In 1787, Bishop
Coke, referring to a letter received from Haw, says: “One of
our elders who last year was sent with a preacher to Kentucky,
on the banks of the Ohio, wrote me a most enlivening account of
his district, and earnestly implored some further assistance. ‘ But
observe,’ added he, ‘no man must be appointed to this country that
isafraid to die. For there is now war with the Indians, who fre-
quently lurk behind the trees, shoot the travelers, and then scalp
them; and we have one Society on the very frontiers of the In-
dian couutry.’”

 

*Smith’s History of Methodism in Georgia.
Asbury Crossing the Mountuins. 365

 

Recrossing the Savannah River, and pursuing his route through
upper South Carolina, Bishop Asbury held his course north-
westward. First and last he crossed the Alleghanies sixty times.
The perils of the mountains were succeeded by the danger of
high waters. He seldom went through the country without being
thoroughly soaked with rain, or having to swim some river or
creek. Most commonly his rides were from early breakfast, with
out intermission, until evening—sometimes nine and ten 9’clock
at night. We give a few items from his journal:

North Carolina, April 22.——We went on, and reached Brother White’s, on
Johns River, about ten o’clock at night; here I found both the saddles broke
both horses foundered, and both their backs sore—so we stopped a few days.

April 28.—After getting our horses shod, we made a move for Holstein, and
entered upon the mountains; the first of which I called steel, the second stone, and
the third iron mountain; they are rough, and difficult to climb. We were spoken
to on our way by the most awful thunder and lightning, accompanied by heavy
rain. We crept for shelter into a little dirty house where the filth might have
been taken from the floor with a spade; we felt the want of fire, but could get little
wood to make it, and what we gathered was wet. At the head of Watawga we
fed, and reached Ward’s that night. Coming to the river next day, we hired a
young man to swim over for the canoe, in which we crossed, while our horses swam
to the other shore. The waters being up, we were compelled to travel an old road
over the mountains. Night came on—TI was ready to faint with a violent head-
ache—the mountain was steep on both sides. JI prayed to the Lord for help; pres-
ently a profuse sweat broke out upon me, and my fever entirely subsided. About
nine o’clock we came to Grear’s. After taking a little rest here, we set out next
morning for Brother Coxe’s on Holstein River. I had trouble enough; our route
lay through the woods, and my pack-horse would neither follow, lead, nor drive,
so fond was he of stopping to feed on the green herbage. I tried the lead, and he
pulled back. I tied his head up to prevent his grazing, and he ran back; the
weather was excessively warm. I was much fatigued, and my temper not a little
tried. I fed at Smith’s, and prayed with the family. Arriving at the river, I was
at a loss what to do; but providentially, a man came along who conducted me
across. This has been an awful journey to me.

In due time he came to Keywoods, near Saltville, in South-
western Virginia, about twenty miles from Abingdon. “Here,”’
says the Bishop, “we held Conference three days, and I preached
each day. The weather was cold; the room without fire and
otherwise uncomfortable.” Herethat noble leader, John Tunnell,
mustered in his picket forces, among whom are Jeremiah Mastin
—lately a companion of Hope Hull on the Pedee—and Thomas
Ware, last seen on the Eastern Shore. Ogden and Haw and
Wilson Lee, from more distant Kentucky, doubtless came throug]
366 History of Methodism.

 

the wilderness to attend this first ultramontane Conference.
The day after adjournment Asbury briefly rested at General
-Russell’s, “a most kind family in deed and in truth,” and the
line of travel was resumed (May 15) for Petersburg, where the
Virginia and North Carolina preachers meet the middle of June.
The list of quarterly-meetings along the devious way shows that
the Church is pretty well established. The journal for May 23d
says: “A damp, rainy day, and I was unwell with a slow fever
and pain in my head; however, I rode to Smith's Chapel and
preached; and thence to Brother Harrison’s, on Dan River, and
preached. In the space of one week we have ridden, through
rough, mountainous tracts of country, about three hundred miles.
Brother Poythress, Tunnell, and myself have had some serious
views of things, and mature counsels together.” We may imag-
ine ourselves in that company. The “mature counsels” doubt-
less took in the transfer of Poythress from North Carolina—
where he had joined them after grand success as elder—to Ken-
tucky, soon to be admitted into the Union as a State. Poythress
was to lead there, and advance upon the opening north-western
territory. The college (Bethel), for which the Kentuckians had
netitioned, entered into the plans. He observes of the Confer-
ance at Petersburg, June 13: “The towns-folk were remarkably
kind and attentive. All things were brought on in love. I
preached a pastoral sermon under a large arbor near the borders
of the town with considerable consolation.”

On the last day of June, the Bishop “came to Greenbrier,”
heading for Uniontown, Pennsylvania, where Whatcoat and Phe-
bus, Matson and their fellow-laborers, had made things ready
for the first Conference of the Redstone region:

July 10.—We had to cross the Alleghany Mountain again, at a bad passage.
(ur course lay over mountains and through valleys, and the mud and mire were
such as might scarcely be expected in December. We came to an old, forsaken
habitation in Tygers Valley; here our horses grazed about, while we boiled our
meat; midnight brought us up at Jones’s, after riding forty or perhaps fifty miles.
The old man, our host, was kind enough to wake us up at four o’clock in the morn-
ing. We journeyed on through devious lonely wilds, where no food might be
ound, except what grew in the woods, or was carried with us. We met with two
women who were going to see their friends, and to attend the quarterly-meeting
at Clarksburg. Near midnight we stopped at A.’s, who hissed his dogs at us; but
the women were determined to get to quarterly-meeting, so we went in. Our sup-
per was tea. Brothers Phoebus and Cook took to the woods; old —— gave up his
hed to the women. I lay along the floor on a few deer skins with the fleas, That
The Uliramontane Conferences. 367

 

pight ¢ ur poor horses got no corn, and next morning they had to swim across the
Monongahela; after a twenty miles’ ride we came to Clarksburg, and man and
beast were so outdone that it took us-ten hours to accomplish it. There attended
about seven hundred people, to whom I preached with freedom; and I believe the
Lord’s power reached the hearts of some. After administering the sacrament, I
was well satisfied to take my leave. We rode thirty miles to Father Haymond’s,
after three o’clock, Sunday afternoon, and made it nearly eleven before we came
in; about midnight we went to rest, and rose at five o’clock next morning. My
mind has been severely tried under the great fatigue endured both by myself and
my horse. O how glad should I be of a plain, clean plank to lie on, as preferable te
most of the beds; and where the beds are in a bad state, the floors are worse. The
gnats are almost as troublesome here as the mosquitoes in the lowlands of the sea-
board. This country will require much work to make it tolerable. The people
are, many of them, of the boldest class of adventurers, and with some the decen-
cies of civilized society are scarcely regarded. The preaching of Antinomians
poisons them with error in doctrine. Good moralists they are not, and good
Christians they cannot be, unless they are better taught.

The Bishop comforted himself with the reflection that we
“must take the people as we find them, and make them better;”
and that other axiom of his, “Those who serve the poor must also
suffer with them.”

His journal is very brief. As has been well remarked, he was
too busy making history to write it: “July 22.—Our Conference
began at Uniontown, and our counsels were’marked by love and
prudence. We had seven members of Conference, and five pro-
bationers.” The Conference occupied three days. The first ul-
tramontane ordination, so far as history is written, occurred here.
‘James Quinn, then a young preacher, destined to wide and per-
manent usefulness, witnessed the session, and thus alludes to it:

Mr. Asbury officiated, not in the costume of the lawn-robed prelate, but as the
plain presbyter in gown and band, assisted by Richard Whatcoat, elder, in the
same clerical habit. The person ordained was Michael Leard, of whom it was
said that he could repeat nearly the whole of the New Testament from memory,
and also large portions of the Old. The scenes of that day looked well in the
eyes of the Church people, for not only did the preachers appear in sacerdotal
robes, but the morning service was read as abridged by Mr. Wesley. The priestly
robes and prayer-book were, however, soon laid aside at the same time, for I have
never seen the one nor heard the other since.

Accompanied by Whatcoat, Bishop Asbury recrossed the mount-
ains and recruited at Capon and Bath, preaching two Sundays at
the latter watering-place: “August 17.—I attempted to preach at
Bath on the lame and the blind; the discourse was very lame; and
‘it may be T left my hearers as I found them—blind. I am nov
368 History of Methodism.

 

ciosely engaged in reading, writing, and prayer—my soul enjoys
much of God. We have great rains, and are obliged to keep close
house; but we have a little of almost every thing to improve the
mind—the languages, divinity, grammar, history, and belles-lettres ;
my great desire is to improve in the best things.”

He takes a turn at Hebrew and New Testament Greek, as well
as at Mosheim and practical divinity, and then resumes the road,
by the way of endless quarterly-meetings, for Baltimore, where
Conference meets in September: “Thursday, 4.—I preached at
Leesburg, and was very warm on ‘ Thou wilt arise and favor Zion;’
and the people appeared to be somewhat stirred up. To-day I re-
ceived a letter from Brother Tunnell, informing of the spreading
of the work of God in the West New River, and several parts of
North Carolina. Glory be to God, for his great and glorious pow-
er! Wednesday, 10.—Our Conference began in Baltimore. I
chose not to preach while my mind was clogged by business with so
many persons, and on so many subjects. Sunday, 14.—I felt con-
siderably moved at our own church in the morning, and in the
Dutch church in the afternoon; the Spirit of the Lord came
among the people, and sinners cried aloud for mercy; perhaps
not less than twenty souls found the Lord from that time until
the Tuesday following.”

Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday were spent at Cokesbury
in examining and arranging the temporal concerns of the college.
He is now in the land of roads and ferries, and it is easy going.
The next Sundays have their record in the journal: “September
21.—I preached with some satisfaction, morning and evening, in
Philadelphia. On Monday our Conference began, and held until
Friday, 26.” Since Thomas Rankin held a “little Conference”
there, Philadelphia had not seen one till now. “Sunday, 28.—
Preached with some assistance in Elizabethtown. Monday, 29.
—Rode to New York. Next day (Tuesday, 30) our Conference
began, and continued until Saturday.” This was the first Con
ference in New York; so slowly did Methodism extend in that
part of the United States. North and east of New Rochelle it
had barely been heard of. It was time to move in that direction.
Henry Willis, so well known in South Carolina, was made
elder of New York and Long Island. Freeborn Garretison was
transferred from Maryland, and directed by Bishop Asbury, at
this session, to take charge of nine young itinerants, and place
Finishing the Grand Round. 369

 

them on circuits, from New York City to Lake Champlain. It
was a grand campaign, and he was the right man to lead it. But
its greatness gave him much anxiety. He was unacquainted
with the country, and an entire stranger to its inhabitants. It
affected his dreams. He says: “It seemed as if the whole coun-
try up the North River, as far as Lake Champlain, east and west,
was open to my view.” He gave his young men instructions
where to begin, and how to form their circuits. He would go
before them to the extreme parts of the field, and, on his return,
hold their quarterly-meetings. This was the way Methodist min-
isters in those days exhibited their prowess and confidence in
success. Six circuits were formed from New Rochelle to Lake
Champlain; and Garrettson led the way up Hudson River.
“On his return he found that his itinerants were almost every-
where prevailing over opposition, and forming Societies.”

The entertainment of an Annual Conference was a great event
for old John Street Church. That Society was at some expense,
as the steward’s account book shows, to prepare for the occasion.
“Green baize” and “red marine” draperies were obtained for
the chapel. About fifty dollars were expended for it. “The
church was cleaned for the occasion. There were sundry ex-
penses at the time of the Conference, and they footed the bills,”
besides taking care of the Bishop’s two horses, and presenting
him with a new bridle.

After setting things in order at this northern outpost, Asbury
turned and preached his way back through New Jersey, Pennsyl-
vania, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, and North Carolina. His
journal, full of observations and events, has this entry on Febru-
ary 18, 1789: “ Rode forty-five miles to Wappataw; and next day
arrived in Charleston in sweet peace of soul.” A week later: “I
was closely employed in making my plan, and arranging the pa-
pers for Conference. I made out a register of all the preachers
on the continent who bore the name of Methodists.” The sum-
ming up of the year gives: Preachers one hundred and sixty-six,
white members thirty thousand eight hundred and nine, colored
members six thousand five hundred and forty-five.

The grand round has been made, and the Bishop returns
to the point whence he set out eleven months before. Truth
has been preached, ministers enlisted and ordained, and lines of
moral empire mapped out. He rests a while in South Carolina.

24
370 History of Methodism.

 

Asbury’s journal makes frequent and affectionate mention of
Rembert Hall. There was need of sucha place for him. One of
his successors, Bishop Wightman, who, as a circuit preacher there,
knew the place and people well, thus describes it: “The propri-
etor of this estate, James Rembert, Esq., was a Methodist gentle-
man, in-Sumter District, of large property, who was strongly
attached to Asbury. There was a room in his mansion that was
appropriated to the Bishop’s use. Here he commonly spent a
week during his annual visitation to South Carolina. It was 4
sweet haven, where the weather-beaten sailor found quiet waters,
and bright skies, and a season of repose. Here he brought up
his journal, wrote his letters, and lectured of an evening to the
family and visitors and crowds of servants. Mrs. Rembert was
a lady of the kindest heart; she not only had the Bishop’s apart-
ment always ready and commodiously furnished, but every year
her seamstress made up for him a full supply of linen, which,
neatly ironed, awaited the arrival of the Bishop. Rembert Hall,
in my time on the Sumter Circuit (1831), was occupied by Caleb
Rembert, Esq., his honored father and mother having long before
gone to heaven.”

[The Histories of Jesse Lee and of Bangs; Biographical Sketches; Stevens's History of
the Methodist Episcopal Church; Smith’s History of Methodism in Georgia; and Asbury’s
Jovrnal, furnish the materials for this Chapter.]
CHAPTER XXVII.

Che Sunday Service—Cokesbury College—Slavery and Emancipation—A New
Term of Communion Proposed—How Received—West India Missions—Incon-
sistent and Hurtful Legislation—What Methodism has Done for the Negro.

HE change of the American Colonies into independent
States was instantly felt in the development of the country

A similar result, in the Church, followed the Christmas Confer-

ence. Organized and equipped for their work, the itinerants went

forth from Baltimore. An inspiring prospect was before them.

Bishop Coke proceeded to Philadelphia and New York, to super-

intend the publication of his ordination-sermon and of the Min-

utes of the Conference. Though no journal of its doings, in the

usual form, was published, its enactments were embodied in a

little volume styled a “Form of Discipline for the Ministers,

Preachers, and other Members of the Methodist Episcopal

Church in America.” :
The “Sunday Service” prepared and printed by Wesley was

used, but not uniformly. Jesse Lee who, in Cromwell’s time

would have been a Puritan, says: “At this time the prayer-book,
as revised by Mr. Wesley, was introduced among us; and in the
large towns, and in some country -places, our preachers read
prayers on the Lord’s-day; and in some cases the preachers read
part of the morning service on Wednesdays and Fridays. But
some of the preachers, who had been long accustomed to pray
extempore, were unwilling to adopt this new plan. Being fully
satisfied that they could pray better and with more devotion
while their eyes were shut than they could with their eyes open.
After a few years the prayer-book was laid aside, and has never
been used since in public worship.” *

 

*The General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, in 1866
(New Orleans), ordered the Sunday Service reprinted “for any congregation that
may choose to use it.” The reprint was made at the Publishing House (Nashville,
1867; 12mo, 125 pages), under the editorship of Rev. T. O. Summers, D.D., with
great care, from the second edition that was printed on Wesley’s press in 1786,
It has not had a largedemand. The General Conference of 1784, in the language
of Whatcoat, “agreed to form a Methodist Episcopal Church, in which the Lit

urgy (as presented by the Rev. John Wesley) should be read.” }
(371
372 History of Methodism.

 

The merits of this abridgment have been generally acknowl-
edged. According to one of the best judges, “it includes the very
quintessence of the English Liturgy in the best possible form.”
Wesley says in his preface that the principal alterations of the
Common Prayer of the Church of England, are these:

“1. Most of the holy days (so called) are omitted, as at pres-
ent answering no valuable end.

“2. The service of the Lord’s-day, the length of which has
been complained of, is considerably shortened.

“3. Some sentences in the office of baptism and for the burial
of the dead are omitted.

“4, And many Psalms left out, and many parts of the others,
as being highly improper for the mouths of a Christian congre-
gation.”

Concerning another usage our Virginia historian, of puritanic
leanings, testifies that it was of limited and brief observance
among Methodists: “The superintendents and some of the eld-
ers introduced the custom of wearing gowns and bands, but
it was opposed by many of the preachers, as well as private
members, who looked upon it as needless and superfluous. Hav-
ing made a stand against it, after a few years it was given up,
and has never been introduced among us since.”

Coke spent five months in the United States, after the Church
was organized, laboring incessantly. At the site he “gave or-
ders that the materials for the erection of the college should
be procured forthwith;” but he left for Europe before prep-
arations were completed to lay the corner-stone. On Sunday,
5th of June, 1785, Asbury laid, with solemn forms, the corner-
stone of Cokesbury College, at Abingdon, Maryland. So early
as 1780, John Dickins arranged with him, as has already been
recorded, the plan of a Methodist academic institution. At his
first interview with Coke, at Barratt’s Chapel, Asbury submitted
the proposition and it was approved. The Christmas Conference
directed that it should be immediately attempted as a collegiate
establishment. Nearly five thousand dollars was quickly raised
for the purpose. The site, about twenty-five miles from Balti-
more, was one of the most commanding in the State; magnificent
views extend in some directions twenty, in others fifty miles.
The landscapes of the Susquehanna Valley lie on either side of
the river, and the Chesapeake Bay stretches away in the distance.
Cokesbury College. 373

 

“Attired in his long silk gown,” says his biographer, “and with
his flowing bands, the pioneer Bishop of America took his posi-
tion on the walls of the college, and announced for his text the fol-
lowing: ‘The sayings of old which we have heard and known, and
our fathers have told us. We will not hide them from their chil-
dren, showing to the generation to come the praises of the Lord,
and his strength, and his wonderful works that he hath done.’”

John Dickins published a description of the building in 1789:
“The college is one hundred and eight feet in length from east
to west, and forty feet in breadth from north to south, and stands
on the summit and center of six acres of land, with an equal de-
scent and proportion of ground on each side.’ At this time it
had thirty students within its unfinished walls. A preparatory
school of fifteen students had been opened under its roof by a
Quaker, an excellent teacher. Abingdon became a favorite resort
for families desiring the advantages of a good school. It accom-
modated the Conference in 1786; it has happened, indeed, that
the Baltimore Conference, beginning its session in the city, ad-
journed to Cokesbury College for the conclusion of its delibera-
tions; and this, more than once.

Asbury solicited funds to build and furnish and carry on this
new Kingswood. The Conference collections for it were respect-
able, year after year. Great was the burden and care; and now
and then results seemed ready to repay them. Stating the ob-
ject and expectations of the institution, it was said: “It will be
expected that all our friends who send their children to the col-
lege will, if they be able, pay a moderate sum for their educa-
tion and board; the rest will be taught and boarded, and, if our
finances will allow of it, clothed gratis. The institution is also in-
tended for the benefit of our young men who are called to preach,
that they may receive a measure of that improvement’ which is
highly expedient as a preparative for public service. The col-
lege will be under the presidentship of the superintendents of our
Church for the time being, and is to be supported by yearly col-
lections throughout our circuits, and any endowments which our
friends may think proper to give and bequeath.”

During its ten years’ history, Cokesbury College acquired a
respectable fame. It was a favorite resort of the itinerants, and
creditable to the Church. It was destroyed by fire, December
7, ae Asbury was in Charleston, South Carolina, when he
374 History of Methodism.

 

received the news; he wrote in his journal: “We have now a
second and contirmed account that Cokesbury College is con-
sumed to ashes, a sacrifice of £10,000 in about ten years. If any
man should give me £10,000 per year to do and suffer again what
L have done for that house, I would not do it. The Lord called
not Mr. Whitefield nor the Methodists to build colleges. I
wished only for schools—-Dr. Coke wanted a college. I feel dis.
tressed at the loss of the library.”

The impression made on the English preachers by their Amer-
ican brethren is worthy of notice. When Whatcoat and Vasey
heard some of them, at the General Conference, they were sur-
prised, and declared that they had not heard their equal in the
British Connection, except Wesley and Fletcher.

Nelson Reed’s word-encounter with “the little Doctor,’ at one

of the early Baltimore Conferences, is thus told by an old mem-
ber of the body:

Nelson Reed commanded great attention as a preacher. He had a strong,
round, full but not very melodious voice; and I presume he never found himself
in any audience where it was not easy for him to make himself heard to the
extreme limit. His sermons were generally argumentative and thoroughly
wrought, and seemed to require not much of passion in the delivery. He was
deeply versed in the science of theology, having given to it a large amount of
study, and from his rich stores of Biblical and theological knowledge he drew
largely in every sermon that he preached. He used to be called by a homely
nickname, which, however, in that part of the country indicated the high estima-
tion in which he was held; it was nothing more nor less than the “bacon-and-
greens preacher,” by which it was intended to be understood that his preaching
was of the most substantial and nourishing character. I remember to have heard
of an incident in the earlier history of Mr. Reed that may serve to illustrate his
remarkable fearlessness and energy. It occurred in the Conference which was
then holding its session in Baltimore. Dr. Coke, one of the superintendents of
the Church, was present; and one of the striking features of his character was that
he was impatient of contradiction, and not wholly insensible to his own personal
importance. He had on this occasion introduced some proposition in the General
Conference, which seemed to some of the preachers a little dictatorial; and one of
them, an Irishman, by the name of Matthews, who had been converted in his na
tive country from Romanism, and had fled to this country from an apprehension
that his life was in danger at home, sprung to his feet, and cried out, “Popery,
popery, popery!” Dr. Coke rebuked the impulsive rudeness of Matthews, when
he replied in his Irish manner, “Och!” and sat down. While the Conference was
now in a state of great suspense and agitation, Dr. Coke seized the paper contain-
ing bis own resolution, and, tearing it up, not in the most moderate manner, looked
round upon the preachers, and said, “Do you think yourselves equal to me?”
Nelson Reed instantly rose, and turning to Bishop Asbury, who was also present,
Rules on Slavery and Emancipation. 315

 

said: “Dr. Coke has asked whether we think ourselves equal to him; I answer,
Yes, we do think ourselves equal to him, notwithstanding he was educated at Ox-
ford, and has been honored with the degree of Doctor of Laws; and more than
that, we think ourselves equal to Dr. Coke’s king.” The Doctor now rose, with
his passion entirely cooled off, and said, very blandly, “He is hard upon me.’
Bishop Asbury replied, “I told you that our preachers are not blockheads.” The
Doctor then asked pardon of the Conference for his abrupt and impulsive demon-
stration, and thus the matter ended.

The General Rules as drawn up by the Wesleys were adopted
without alteration by the first Societies in America. However,
they were not published in any edition of the “ Discipline” until
1789, when this clause of prohibition appears for the first time:
“The buying or selling the bodies and souls of men, women, or
children, with an intention to enslave them.” By whom or how
this clause was introduced, history does not tell. It clearly
refers to the African slave-trade, which the laws of the Repub-
lic repressed, as piracy, from the year 1808.

The first allusion to emancipation occurs in an informal Confer-
ence called to meet in Baltimore 1780; in anticipation of the reg-
ular session which met in Virginia, and which had been com-
mitted to the “ordinances.”—‘ Question: Ought not this Con-
ference to require those traveling preachers who hold slaves
to give promises to set them free? Answer: Yes.” The lan-
guage is emphatic, but advisory, as to the membership: “ We
pass our disapprobation on all our friends who keep slaves,
and advise their freedom.” * Though the Baltimore section rep-
resented a minority of the traveling preachers, the anti-slavery
element had strong representatives in the other section, which
met at Manakintown, notably—James O’Kelley; and doubtless
this deliverance of the minority would have been agreeable to a
majority of the united body. The sentiment of freedom for all
men, at that time, prevailed extensively with Americans; they
had just come out of a fight for freedom. Wesleyan preachers
especially shared in the anti-slavery feeling; and not a few cases
of emancipation occurred as they pressed their views upon the
cousciences of Christian masters who were accustomed to regard
them as spiritual guides.

 

*It is barely possible that policy dictated the introduction of this measure, at
this time. The division of American Methodism, on “ordinances,” seemed al-
most a certainty; and this plank in the platform might secure, from the other side,
Gatch, O’Kelly, and others like them, whose emancipation sentiments were strong
and pronounced.
376 History of Methodism.

 

Others took the ground of Pauline casuistry: *‘ Neither if we
emancipate, are we the better; neither if we emancipate not, are
we the worse.” They saw the question of slavery not in an ab-
stract but inaconcreteform. It was a part of social life, as it had
come down to them. It was wrought into domestic and industrial
institutions, and was recognized and regulated by civil law. If
they could have formed a community or State on theory, slavery
would not have entered into it; it was an evil which they would
have precluded by choice and on policy. But for a hundred and
fifty years the ships of Bristol and Liverpool and Boston had
been unloading captive slaves upon the shores of what is now
the United States; and the unquestioned usages of Christian
kings and governments, of Churches and ministers and people,
had wrought them into the fabric of the community. In the
language of the historian Bancroft, the institution had been “riv-
eted by the policy of England, without regard to the interests or
the wishes of the colony.” _

While there was abhorrence of the cruel cupidity that incited
clannish wars on the Dark Continent, for the purpose of captur-
ing barbarians and slaves there, to transport them into slavery
here, the question remained for Christian men at the close of the
eighteenth century: “ What is the best thing now to be done?”
To return the negroes to their native land required more ships
than all Christian nations owned—leaving out of view a repeti-
tion of the modified horrors of the middle passage. Few would
assert that they were prepared for self-support and self-govern-
ment, and fewer still that half-reclaimed pagans could be bene-
fited by being remanded into paganism. There was no provision
for colonizing them on the American continent, and no proposi-
tion to enfranchise them as citizens. An impassable gulf stood
in the way of a general amalgamation. Here and there a master
might impatiently or conscientiously wash his hands of the great
evil, and put an end to all questionings, so far as he was con-
cerned, by an act of emancipation; but what of a universal law
and movement in that direction?

A few well-meaning ecclesiastics, mostly without homes, with-
out property, and without families, think a resolution of Confer-
ence or a clause in the Discipline can meet the case! No doubt
they were honest; and no doubt their advice was declined
by many who were equally honest; with this disadvantage ip
New Terms of Communion Proposed. 377

 

the case of the latter—they were more exposed to the suspi-
cion, and not unfrequently to the charge, of making up their
judgment under the bias of self-interest. When Coke, immedi-
ately after the adjournment of Conference, was pressing its rash
rules on emancipation, he met the pious Jarratt, who ventured to
question the wisdom of the ecclesiastical action on the subject.
“The secret is,” says Coke, that “ he has twenty-four slaves of hig
own; I am afraid he will do infinite hurt by his opposition to
our rules.” If slave-holding be a sin, condemned by the Bible,
then might emancipation be not only advised but required by the
Church, of all preachers and private members as well. But
many Christians never could be convinced of this, with the Bi-
ble before them; hence the endless troubles and disputes that ~
worried and divided the Church in America. A slave-holding
local preacher, discipled by Wesley himself, established the first
Methodist Society in the Western Hemisphere.* A better or-
dered Christian family was not to be found on the continent than
at Perry Hall, in which it is likely the rules on emancipation
were prepared for the approaching Christmas by four or five
worthy Englishmen, three-fourths of whom had not been in the
United States quite-two months. All Methodist history, all Bi-
ble history as well, demonstrates that Christian character of the
finest and fullest type may be developed in Christian masters.

The traveling preachers and private members having been leg-
islated for, the local preachers are reached at the regular Con-
ference held in May, 1784.—“ Question: What shall we do with
our local preachers who will not emancipate their slaves in the
States where the laws admit it? Answer: Try those in Virginia
another year, and suspend the preachers in Maryland, Delaware,
Pennsylvania, and New Jersey.”

The extraordinary enactments of the Christmas Conference
on this perplexing subject are here presented in full:

Question: What methods can we take to extirpate slavery?

Answer: We are deeply conscious of the impropriety of making new terms of
communion for a religious society already established, excepting on the most press
ing occasion; and such we esteem the practice of holding our fellow-creatures in
slavery. We view it as contrary to the golden law of God on which hang all the

* The true epoch of Methodism in the Western Hemisphere is 1760, when Gilbert formea
the first Society at Antigua. Had its centenary been observed, all Methodists of the New World
gould have shared in its celebration, an advantage which the epoch of the Church, in neither
the North American British provinces nor in the United States, admits. (Stevens’s Histore
of the Methodist Episcopal Church, Vol. IL, page 379.)
378 History of Methodism.

 

law and the prophets, and the inalienable rights of mankind, as well as every prin-
ciple of the Revolution, to hold in the deepest debasement, in a more abject slay-
ery than is perhaps to be found in any part of the world except America, so manv
souls that are all capable of the image of God.

We therefore think it our most bounden duty to take immediately some effect-
ual method to extirpate this abomination from among us; and for that purpose
we add the following to the rules of our Society, viz.:

1. Every member of our Society who has slaves in his possession shall, within
twelve months after notice given to him by the assistant (which notice the assist-
ants are required immediately, and without any delay, to give in their respective
circuits), legally execute and record an instrument whereby he emancipates and sets
free every slave in his possession who is between the ages of forty and forty-five
immediately, or at farthest when they arrive at the age of forty-five; and every
slave who is between the ages of twenty-five and forty immediately, or at farthest
at the expiration of five years from the date of said instrument; and every slave
who is between the ages of twenty and twenty-five immediately, or at farthest
when they arrive at the age of thirty; and every slave under the age of twenty as
soon as they arrive at the age of twenty-five at farthest; and every infant born inslav-
ery after the above-mentioned rules are complied with immediately on its birth.

2. Every assistant shall keep « journal, in which he shall regularly minute
down the names and ages of all the slaves belonging to all the masters in his re-
spective circuit, and also the date of every instrument executed and recorded for
the manumission of the slaves, with the name of the court, book, and folio in
which the said instruments respectively shail have been recorded; which journal
shall be handed down in each circuit to the succeeding assistants [pastors].

3. In consideration that these rules form a new term of communion, every per-
son concerned who will not comply with them shall have liberty quietly to with-
draw himself from our Society within the twelve months succeeding the notice
given as aforesaid; otherwise the assistant shall exclude him in the Society.

4. No person so voluntarily withdrawn, or so excluded, shall ever partake of
the Supper of the Lord with the Methodists, till he complies with the above re-
quisitions.

5. No person holding slaves shall, in future, be admitted into Society or to the
Lord’s Supper, till he previously complies with these rules concerning slavery.

N. B.—These rules are to affect the members of our Society no farther than as
they are consistent with the laws of the States in which they reside. And respect-
ing our brethren in Virginia that are concerned, and after due consideration of
their peculiar circumstances, we allow them two years from the notice given, te
concider the expedience of compliance or non-compliance with these rules.

How different are these rules from those with which the
apostles of our Lord were sent forth to convert the world! It
has been well remarked: “When Paul and Barnabas set out on
their missionary tour through slave-holding Greece, they went
unhampered with such instructions about slavery; but the chil-
dren were wiser than the fathers, and it required the experience
of a few sad years to teach Asbury and his associates that both
Coke and the Emancipation Question. 379

 

master and slave would perish if they persisted in their course.”
As to the method others pursued there is no record, but Coke im-
proved the opportunity of large Virginia audiences to expound
and defend the new rules and the new terms of membership,
unknown alike to Methodism and the New Testament. “The
quarterly-meetings on this continent,” he writes “are much at-
tended. The brethren for twenty miles around, and sometimes
for thirty or forty, meet together. The meeting always lasts two
days. All the traveling preachers in the circuit are present, and
they, with perhaps a local preacher or two, give the people a ser-
mon one after another, besides the love-feast, and now the sac-
rament. On Saturday, April 9th, I set off with the friends
to Brother Martin’s, in whose barn I preached that day. The
next day I administered the sacrament to a large company, and
preached, and after me the two traveling preachers. There were
thirty strangers, I think, in Brother Martin’s house only, which
obliged us to lie three in a bed. I had now for the first time a
very little persecution. The testimony I bore in this place
against slave-holding provoked many of the unawakened to retire
out of the barn, and combine together to flog me (so they ex-
pressed it) as soon as I came out.”

He passed on to North Carolina to meet Asbury, coming up
from Charleston, at the Annual Conference at Green Hill’s.
When he reached North Carolina, finding that the laws of the
State even then forbade emancipation, he exercised a prudence
unusual with him, and preached simply the gospel; but the Con-
ference, through his influence, passed the most decided resolu-
tions on the subject, and insisted that the Church should take
earnest measures to secure immediate emancipation. These
resolutions accomplished nothing except to throw more serious
obstacles in the way of the already embarrassed preachers.

As soon as the session was over, Coke returned into Virginia.
“On Sunday, May 1,” he says, “ about twenty preachers met Mr.
Asbury and me at Brother Mason’s. One night we all slept at
the same house, but it was so inconvenient to some of the preach-
ers that they afterward divided themselves through the neigh-
boring plantations, by which we lost about an hour in the morn-
ings. A great many principal friends met us here to insist on a
repeal of the slave rules; but when they found that we had
thoughts of withdrawing ourselves entirely from the circuit, on
380 . History of Methodism.

 

account of the violent spirit of some leading men, they drew in
their horns, and sent us a very humble letter, entreating that
preachers might be appointed.”

Asbury’s note on the same occasion is brief: “Rode to W. Ma-
son’s, where we are to meet in Conference. I found the minds
of the people greatly agitated with our rules against slavery and
a proposed petition to the General Assembly for the emancipa-
tion of the blacks. Colonel and Doctor Coke disputed on
the subject, and the Colonel used some threats; next day, Broth-
er O’Kelley let fly at them, and they were made angry enough;
we, however, came off with whole bones.”

It is possible that what Coke, in his impetuous mood, mistook
for a drawing in of their horns, on the part of the many prin-
cipal members, meant something else. They saw that he was not
to be reasoned with, and took other measures for saving the
Church from ruin. June Ist, the last and most influential Con-
ference for the year met at Baltimore. That was the place to
make a final stand—where six months before the “slave rules”
had been adopted. The preachers who had been abroad among
the Societies and people then brought in a report of the damag-
ing effect and well-ascertained impracticability of the said rules;
and Coke himself, in the chair, made a virtue of necessity by
conceding to their final repeal. Accordingly, in the Annual
Minutes for 1785 the following notice was inserted: “It is rec-
ommended to all our brethren to suspend the execution of the
minute on slavery till the deliberations of a future Conference;
and that an equal space of time be allowed all our members for
consideration, when the minute shall be put in force.” *

 

 

* Now was their sublime hour, and the critical hour of the nation, in respect to
this question. But they failed, and history must not evade the fact. They were
persecuted and threatened, and sometimes mobbed; but many of their people,
many slave-holders, sustained them. Emancipations were becoming frequent.
The leading statesmen of the nation were with them in opinion. But Asbury and
Coke both shrunk before the unavoidable difficulties of the question. It was nat-
ural that, in after years, they should believe it had been expedient to compromise
with their opponents. (Stevens’s History of the Methodist Episcopal Church.)

The distinguished author viewed this abolition crisis from an extremely Northern
stand-point. Those who contemplate it from almost any other point of view are
satisfied that, had the policy so promptly abandoned been persisted in, there would
have been no Methodism in the Southern States. At that time there was very
little anywhere else in America. And so, Methodism would have been abol-
ished in the United States as the first result of abolitionism.
Asbury Alone in the Episcopacy. 881

 

Asbury’s note on that occasion is this: “June 1—Our Confer-
ence began. I was unwell during the session; a blister running,
applied for a pain in my breast. On Thursday the Doctor took
his leave of America for this visit. We parted with heavy hearts.
On Friday we rested from our labors and had a love-feast.”

Coke sailed out of the harbor “with feelings sadder than he
had for years experienced in taking leave of his ministerial breth-
ren,” and was absent two years.

Methodism, after this instructive experience of being wise
above what is written, attended, for awhile without distraction,
to her heavenly calling and greatly prospered; so that in the
fourth year after the episcopal organization her ministry and
membership were doubled, and the territory occupied was more
than quadrupled. “The vexed question” was let alone; and in
the Annual Minutes for 1787 the following timely and scriptural
directions are found. Well would it have been for the Church
and the country, and especially for the colored people, if all
subsequent Conference action had been of the same nature:

What directions shall we give for the promotion of the spiritual welfare of the
colored people? 6

We conjure all our ministers and preachers, by the love of God, and the salva-
tion of souls, and do require them, by all the authority that is invested in us, to
leave nothing undone for the spiritual benefit and salvation of them, within their
respective circuits or districts; and for this purpose to embrace every opportunity
of inquiring into the state of their souls, and to unite in Society those who appear
to have a real desire of fleeing from the wrath to come; to meet such in class, and
to exercise the whole Methodist discipline among them.

Asbury was now left alone in the episcopal care. That an En-
glishman should become so thoroughly Americanized is not a
common thing. With strange impressions as he approached the
shores of the New World, he exclaimed, “This is the land for
me!” At the close of the war, writing to his old friend and fel-
low-laborer, George Shadford, he used this language:

I travel four thousand miles in a year, all weathers, among rich and poor Dutch
and English. O my dear Shadford, it would take a month to write out and speak
what I want you to know. The most momentous is my constant communion with
God as my God; my glorious victory over the world and the devil. I am contin.
ually with God. I preach frequently, and with more enlargement of heart than
ever. O America, America! it certainly will be the glory of the world for relig-
ion. I have loved and do love America. Your old national pride, as a people, has got
e blow. You muat abate alittle. © let us haste in peace and holiness to the king-
382 History of Methodism.

 

dom of peace and love, where we shall know, love, and enjoy God and each other,
and all the differences in Church and State, and among private Christians, will be
done away.

Asbury’s bearing toward his senior colleague is one of the most
interesting exhibitions of his character. He saw the weak points
of Coke, and did what he could, quietly and delicately, to lessen
the consequence of his blunders; but he also appreciated his
piety, and paid respectful tribute to his learning and true great-
ness. We are reminded of the brave Braddock, who, when push-
ing his way into the wilderness, was modestly expostulated with
by one Colonel George Washington, who knew the country and
was practically acquainted with the business in hand. “What!”
was the disdainful reply, “shall an American buckskin teach a
British general how to fight?” The haughty commander was soon
borne back on a litter, and his name forever associated with defeat.

Coke’s missionary character was strongly developed, if not de-
termined, by his American experience. He came in view of, and
almost in contact with, Nova Scotia at the Christmas Conference;
and during its session made the first collection on our shores for
foreign missions, in behalf of that field. He continued his per-
sonal solicitations for its support and enlargement, after arriving
in Europe, and published an “Address to the Pious and Benevo-
lent,’’ proposing an annual subscription for the support of mis-
sionaries, which is said to have been the first document of the
kind. He also induced Wesley to send with him to that distant
field three preachers—Hammet, Warrener, and Clark—as a reén-
forcement to Garrettson and his fellow-laborers.

In September, 1786, he embarked with them for Nova Scotia.
By storms the ship was driven to the West Indies. The furious
captain, having never encountered such perils on the deep, con-
cluded that there was a Jonah on board, and threw Coke’s papers
and books overboard and was on the point of sending him after
them. Providentially they reached Antigua, where Gilbert and.
Baxter had begun a good work, which was waiting for help. On
Christmas-day the missionaries landed at St. Johns, and walking.
into the town met Baxter on his way to the chapel. Other isl-
ands were visited, and the missionaries distributed among them;
and thus began the Wesleyan missions in the West Indies, re-
deeming the slaves from pagan ignorance, and numbering ata
later day over fifty thousand communicants, with all the appoint-
Coke and the West India Mission. 383

 

ments of districts, circuits, and chapels, and well-appointed and
well-supported religious teachers. A very harsh type of bondage
prevailed in most of the islands. Preachers were often impris-
oned, chapels closed, and negroes punished with severity for their
religious profession and attendance; but the cause was God’s, and
it prevailed—not without martyrs. This mission-field became
Coke’s half-way house in his visitations to the American Church;
,and by his exertions and liberality it was not only reénforced and
superintended, but his energetic influence with the home govern-
ment more than once secured relaxations from the severity of
the local laws. Charleston was the nearest port, where he arrived
in time to join Asbury in the first South Carolina Conference of
1787, and in other sessions afterward.

It was well for the tranquillity of the American Church that Coke
had this West India mission thrust upon him. It taught him a.
prudence in his bearing toward civil institutions, which he had
not before shown, where slavery was concerned. If he. had en-
tertained public assemblies in Antigua with the same utterances
on that subject that were made in Virginia, he would have de-.
stroyed the Societies gathered by Gilbert twenty years before.
If the emancipation statute enacted at Baltimore had been pro-
posed in Jamaica, the door to his missionaries would have been
fast closed, and that noble chapter of negro salvation that adorns
the history of Wesleyan Methodism would never have been written.
In his transient visits of a few months to this continent, and pass-
ing rapidly from place to place, it was cheap and easy for him to
indulge in quixotic schemes of philanthropy, and to stir up oppo-
sition—leaving Asbury and his patient and suffering colaborers
to meet the consequences, and by their wise conservatism to save
the imperiled cause; but when Coke came personally and prac-
tically face to face with the problem involved, and must choose
between salvation and emancipation, he took the better course; for
where his pragmatic temper did not mislead him, he was a wise
man, and none could doubt his being a pious one.

About the year 1830, Richard Watson wrote the “ Instructions
to the Wesleyan Missionaries ”—an official document worthy of
the broad-minded author of the “ Institutes” and of the Church
whose missions are enlightening the world. Wise and holy men
have characterized the “Instructions” as “apostolical.” In all
controversies—sectional, political, and ecclesiastical—for thes:
484 History of Methodism.

 

hundred years, the spirit and practice of these “Instructions ”
have governed that portion of the Methodist Episcopal Church
in America who have really done any thing to promote the moral
and religious welfare of negro slaves. We quote from this offi-
cial document; it is worthy of careful perusal:

Those of you who are appointed to the. West India colonies—being placed in
stations of considerable delicacy, and which require from the state of society there
a peculiar circumspection and prudence on the one hand, and zeal, dilizence, and
patient perseverance on the other—are required to attend the following directions,
as especially applicable to your mission there:

Your particular designation is to endeavor the religious instruction and con-
version of the ignorant, pagan, and neglected black and colored population of
the island or station to which you may be appointed, and of all others who may
be willing to hear you.

Where Societies are already formed, you are required to watch over them with
the fidelity of those who must give up their account to Him who hath purchased
them with his blood, and in whose providence they are placed under your care.
Your labors must be constantly directed to improve them in the knowedge of
Christianity, and to enforce upon them the experience and practice of its doctrines
and duties, without intermingling doubtful controversies in your administrations,
being mainly anxious that those over whom you have pastoral care should clearly
understand the principal doctrines of the Scriptures, feel their renovating influ-
ence upon their hearts, and become “holy in all manner of conversation and god-
liness.”

It is enforced upon you that you continue no person as a member of your Soci-
eties whose “conversation is not as becometh the gospel of Christ.” That any
member of Society who may relapse into his former habits, and become a polyga-
mist, or an adulterer, who shall be idle and disorderly, disobedient to his owner
(if a slave), who shall steal, or be in any other way immoral or irreligious, shall
be put away, after due admonition, and proper attempts to reclaim him from the
“error of his way.”

Before you receive any person into Society, you shall be satisfied of his desire
to become acquainted with the religion of Christ, and to obey it; and if he has
not previously been under Christian instruction, nor baptized, you are, before his
admission as a member, diligently to teach him the Christian faith, and the obli-
gations which he takes upon himself by baptism.

You are to consider the children of the negroes and colored people of your So-
cieties and congregations as a part of your charge; and it is recommended to you,
wherever it is practicable and prudent, to establish Sunday or other schools for
their instruction.

As in the colonies in which you are called to labor a great proportion of the
inbabitants are in a state of slavery, the committee most strongly call to ysur
recullection what was so fully stated to you when you were accepted as a mission-
ary to the West Indies—that your only business is to promote the moral and relig-
ious improvement of the slaves to whom you may have access, without in the least
degree, in public or private, interfering with their civil condition. On all persons,
in the state of slaves, you are diligently and implicitly to enforce the same exhor-
English Instructions for Slave-missions. 385

 

tations which the apostles of our Lord administered to the slaves of ancient na-
tions, when by their ministry they embraced Christianity: “Servants, be obedient
to them that are your masters according to the flesh, with fear and trembling, in
singleness of your heart, as unto Christ; not with eye-service, as men-pleasers; but
as the servants of Christ, doing the will of God from the heart; with good-will
doing service, as to the Lord, and not to men; knowing that whatsoever good
thing any man doeth, the same shall he receive of the Lord, whether he be bond
or free.” (Eph. vi. 5-8.) “Servants, obey in all things your masters according
to the flesh; not with eye-service, as men-pleasers; but in singleness of heart, fear-
ing God; and whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men;
knowing that of the Lord ye shall receive the reward of the inheritance; for ye
serve the Lord Christ. But he that doeth wrong shall receive for the wrong which
he hath done; and there is no respect of persons.” (Col. iii. 22-25.)

You are directed to avail yourselves of every opportunity to extend your la-
bors among the slaves of the islands where you may be stationed; but you are in
no case to visit the slaves of any plantation without the permission of the owner
or inanager; nor are the times which you may appoint for their religious services
to interfere with their owners’ employ; nor are you to suffer any prctracted meet-
ings in the evening, not even at negro burials, on any account whatever. In all
these cases you are to meet even unreasonable prejudices, and attempt to disarm
suspicions, however groundless, so far as you can do it consistently with your du-
ties as faithful and laborious ministers of the gospel.

As many of the negroes live in a state of polygamy, or in a promiscuous inter-
-ourse of the sexes, your particular exertions are to be directed to the discounte-
nancing and correcting of these vices, by pointing out their evil, both in public
and in private, and by maintaining the strictest discipline in the Societies.

The [missionary] committee caution you against engaging in any of the civil
disputes or local politics of the colony to which you may be appointed, either ver-
bally or by correspondence with any persons at home or in the colonies. The
whole period of your temporary residence in the West Indies is to be filled up
with the proper work of your mission.

The sound Christian principles of this document governed the
united Methodism of America down to 1844, maugre local fac-
tions and temporary exceptions. Thus access was had alike to
the master and the slave, by a ministry bearing with them “the
fullness of the blessing of the gospel of Christ.” And thus,
after the jurisdictional division of that date, the section of Amer-
ican Methodism which continued to adhere to these scriptural
principles was enabled, under God, to present phenomenal re-
sults in the moral and religious culture of “the servile progeny
of Ham.” Not only were the slaves, who labored and worshiped
in contact with the white population, educated and elevated and
evangelized to a degree far above any thing attained or attain-
able in their native land; but to those masses of negroes seg-

25
386 History of Methodism.

regated on the rice and sugar and cotton plantations, under
climatic conditions agreeable to their tropical habits but dan-
gerous for white residents, missionaries were sent who, con-
strained by the love of souls, cheerfully submitted to the social
inconveniences and malarious perils of the situation. By their
efforts much people was added to the Lord. Chapels were built,
and vast congregations of blacks were gathered and ministered te
in doctrine and discipline and sacraments. Sunday-schools were
formed and catechisms prepared for them, and the children of
slaves were taught the truths of Christianity.*

When Coke landed on the continent, Black Harry, unable to
read, was the most advanced specimen of African Christianity
he met with. On the general emancipation, effected by the Civil
War, Southern Methodism showed thousands of negro preach-
ers, exhorters, and class-leaders, who could read their Bibles and
edify their congregations. Many of them were counted, by those
who controlled the civil government of that day, fit for legislators
and senators.| And when the sons of Wesley, from all parts of
the world, gathered at City Road Chapel in Ecumenical Con-
ference, African bishops were there as representative members,
who had never seen Africa. They had been born and con-

 

*In 1860, Southern Methodism numbered in its membership 207,766 negroes,
and over 180,000 negro children, under catechetical instruction. By a persistent
maneuver it has been attempted to shift the odium of slavery upon those with
whom it ended, instead of those with whom it began; upon those connected with
its only redeeming feature, instead of those whose connection with it was marked
alone by lucre and cruelty. At the Convention of Delegates from the thirteen
States (Philadelphia), to consult upon the formation of a Constitution, the subject
of slavery was referred to two committees successively. The majority of the first
were Northern men. They reported (Aug. 8, 1787) a recommendation that the slave-
trade should be legalized perpetually. This committee was composed of five per-
sous—Rutledge, Randolph, Gorman, Ellsworth, and Wilson. The first two from
the South, the last three from the North. The majority of the second were South-
erm men. They recommended that the slave-trade should not be extended beyond
the year 1800. The committee who reported this amendment consisted of eleven
persons—Langdon, King, Johnson, Livingston, Clymer, Dickenson, Martin, Will-
iams, Pinckney, Baldwin, and Madison. The first five represented Northern States,
the ‘ast siz Sonthern States, The constitutional provisions on this head would nev-
er have prolonged this infamous traffic to the year 1808, if either Massachusetts, or
New Hampshire, or Connecticut, had stood by Delaware and Virginia, in that
crisis of the country, and like them voted against the extension. But the profits
of New England’s ships had to be protected. (See Stiles’s Modern Reform.)

t President Lincoln’s emancipation proclamation was issued January 1, 1868.
The Colored Church-membership of Methodism. 387

 

verted and reared in slavery, as modified by Christian influ-
ence, and they gratefully acknowledged Methodist ministers
as their spiritual benefactors. Their forefathers had been
brought over under the decks of the slave-ships of England
and New England; they went back, from the pupilage of Meth-
odism in the slave States, as cabin passengers in steam-ships.
Their forefathers had been idolaters, abject gregree worshipers;
they returned as redeemed Christian men and ministers—the
Lord’s freedmen. While these black bishops came from the
fields of Southern slavery, over which Methodism persisted in
her benignant and thankless but successful labors, none were
present at that grand synod from the continent of Africa.

Never in the history of the race, if we may rely on the census,
did a given number of Africans so multiply and increase as did
the negro slaves of the United States for a century following these
instant measures of Bishop Coke and his party for emancipation.
This speaks for their physical comfort. Never did an equal num-
ber of Africans, anywhere else or at any time, attain to an equal
intellectual, moral, and religious standard. The heathen Church-
membership of all the missionary societies and stations, in all parts
of the world, did not equal the colored membership of Methodism
in the Southern States. To this may be added the colored mem-
bership of the Baptists—only a little below that of the Method-
ists—and the colored membership of other Churches, which cared
for the bond as well as the free, and the problem is furnished
approximately with facts for its solution. Humanity, inspired
with religious sentiment, views with awe such a continental
movement of Providence—transporting one race across the ocean
to the home of another to be Christianized, and making the sub-
jection of one to the other the condition of its instruction. The
man-stealer and slave-trader meant it for evil, but God meant
the relation of master and servant for good. What more is to
come of it, we wait the unfolding of hidden things to see.

Some elevated seers profess to have caught a glimpse of the
redemption of the Dark Continent, that has defied all other mis-
sionary enterprise, by the return of the best portion of its re-
deemed children. It is for the Church, in the future as in the
past, to do the present duty, guided by the plain truths of Divine
revelation, and not by the shifting principles of human revolu-
tions: assured that God is no respecter of persons; that all races,
388 History of Methodism.

 

the weak as well as the strong, the black as well as the white, are
alike the objects of his fatherly love; and that “the same Lord
over all is rich unto all that call upon him.”

The unbiased historian of the time coming, who reviews tlie
course of Methodist legislation on slave-holding, will probably
give this opinion: If such legislation was founded on scriptwal
authority, it did not go far enough; if ithad no such foundation, it
went too far. A law is made for preachers which is not applied ta
the people, as though .a separate moral code existed for each class;
also, one part of the land is legislated for to the exclusion of an.
other. Stringent emancipation rules are enacted in 1804, and fol-
lowed by the clause: “The members of our Societies in the States
of North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, and Tennessee shall
be exempted from the operation of the above rules.” Again—on
the last day of the next quadrennial meeting: ‘“ Moved from the
chair, that there be one thousand Forms of Discipline prepared
for the use of the South Carolina Conference, in which the sec-
tion and rule on slavery be left out. Carried.”

In. six months, the emancipation enactments of the Christmas
Conference were annulled on the spot.. Methodism as a broad
and beneficent power was thus saved to the kingdom of heaven
and to the world. Otherwise, it must. have been cut off from
the people it has blessed, and would speedily have degenerated
into a narrow, fretful combination for social reform, “teaching
for doctrines the commandments of men.”

The rescue of the new ecclesiastical organization from such a
fate was a mercy to the slave as well as to the master. Natural
freedom, sweet as it is, is infinitely unimportant, a mere secular-
ity, when. compared with that spiritual freedom which God, at so
great cost, has provided for every man through the gospel., In
God’s order, St. Paul being judge, the primary concern and po-
sition belongs to soul-emancipation. Let the gospel have free
course; and if by its effects.upon the master or the servant, or
both, the way is prepared for, and the consequence points to, tem-
poral freedom—well. In the meantime to leave the whole sub-
ject where the Bible leaves it, and to bring it under the Bible
treatment specifically provided, was always the wish of a grow-
ing number of American Methodists. But they were in con-
nection, highly prized, with others who earnestly favored and
pressed a secular and more aggressive policy; and hence the
Asbury’s Conviction About the Blacks. 389

 

language of compromise in the Discipline, and contradictory, in-
consistent, varied, and vexing legislation on the subject. After
the division of Episcopal Methodism into two independent juris-
dictions, each body followed its tendency, and in less than twen-
ty years reached its position. The Northern section, which all
the while had numbered more or less slave-holders in its com-
munion, accepted “the new terms of communion” proposed in
the Christmas Conference, and in 1864 unqualifiedly made slave-
holding a bar to membership. The Southern section, six years
before that, had struck out all special legislation on the subject.

Bishop Asbury, avowedly and of conviction an anti-slavery
man, looked at the whole subject in a practical light. When he
saw how every act of ecclesiastical interference with a civil institu-
tion provoked new restrictions and prohibitions by the civil power
and blocked up the way of the messengers of peace, he recorded
in his journal (Feb. 1, 1809) this matured conviction: “We are
defrauded of great numbers by the pains that are taken to keep
the blacks from us—their masters are afraid of the influence of
our principles. Would not an amelioration in the condition and
treatment of slaves have produced more practical good to the
poor Africans than any attempt at their emancipation? The state
of society, unhappily, does not admit of this; besides, the blacks
are deprived of the means of instruction—who will take the
pains to lead them into the way of salvation, and watch over them
that they may not stray, but the Methodists? Well; now their
masters will not let them come to hear us. What is the personal
liberty of the African, which he may abuse, to the salvation of
his soul—how may it be compared?”

Z
CHAPTER XXVIII.

Wesley’s Requests not Complied With—Leaving his Name Off the Minutes —Lhe
Offense and Rebuke—Methodist Episcopacy the First in America—True to the
Primitive Type—Ordinations of Luther and Wesley—Charles Wesley’s Death

HILE independence was being secured and organized by

the Conference of 1784, the importance of union found
early expression. Hence this minute: “Question: What can be
done in order to the future union of the Methodists? Answer:
During the life of the Reverend Mr. Wesley, we acknowledge
ourselves his sons in the gospel, ready, in matters belonging to
Church-government, to obey his commands. And we do engage
after his death to do every thing that we judge consistent with
the cause of religion in America, and the political interests of
these States, to preserve and promote our union with the Meth-
odists in Europe.”

Within three years this engagement was put to a severe test.
So well had Freeborn Garrettson acquitted himself in Nova
Scotia that Wesley saw in him an instrument needing only to be
clothed with large powers for achieving the greatest results, and
he sent a request to the Conference (1787) for his ordination
as superintendent, or bishop, for the British dominions in Amer-
ica—a diocese comprising not only the north-eastern provinces
and the Canadas, but also the West India Islands. Coke, as
Wesley’s delegate and representative in the matter, asked
Garrettson if he would accept the appointment. Garrettson,
more surprised than pleased at the affair, writes:

I requested the liberty of deferring my answer until the next day. I think on
the next day the Doctor came to my room and asked me if I had made up my
inind to accept of my appointment; I told him I had upon certain conditions. 1
observed to him that I was willing to go on a tour, and visit those parts to which
I was appointed, for one year; and if there was a cordiality in the appointment
among those whom I was requested to serve, I would return to the next Confer-
ence and receive ordination for the office of superintendent. His reply was, “J
am perfectly satisfied,” and he gave me a recommendatory letter to the brethren
in the West Indies, etc. I had intended, as soon as Conference rose, to pursue my
voyage to the West India Islands, to visit Newfoundland and Nova Scotia, and
in the spring to return, What transpired in the Conference during my absence I
know not; but I was astonished, when the appointments were read, to hear my
name mentioned to preside in the Peninsula.

390)
Conference Declines to Grant Wesley’s Requests. 391

 

The Conference declined to elect him, says one, because if
ordained for the Provinces he must be confined wholly to that
field; and he was not inclined to expatriate himself. But the
true reason seems to have been the unwillingness of his breth-
ren to lose Garrettson. He was retained in the States and
returned to his old field of labor and triumph on the Maryland
shore, whence, as we have already seen, he was the following
year transferred to New York, and planted Methodism in the
Hudson Valley. Wesley was disappointed and grieved; nor was
this all. At the same time he had directed that Richard What-
coat be ordained a joint superintendent with Asbury. This was
a wise selection, as subsequent events showed; for thirteen years
afterward he was chosen, but was too old and feeble then to do
justice to himself or the office. The Conference declined com-
pliance in this case also. Jesse Lee’s account of the matter is:

When this business was brought before the Conference, most of the preachers
would not consent to it. The reasons against it were: (1) that he was not quali-
fied to take the charge of the Connection; (2) that they were apprehensive that
if Mr. Whatcoat was ordained, Mr. Wesley would likely recall Mr. Asbury, and
he would return to England.

Dr. Coke contended that we were obliged to receive Mr. Whatcoat, because we
had said in the Minutes when we were first formed into a Church in 1784: “ Dur-
ing the life of the Rev. Mr. Wesley, we acknowledge ourselves his sons in the
gospel, ready, in matters belonging to Church government, to obey his commands.”

Many of the members argued that they were not at the Conference when that
engagement was entered into, and they did not consider themselves bound by it.
Other preachers, who had said they were ‘ready to obey his commands,” said they
did not feel ready now to obey. The preachers at last agreed to depart from that
engagement which some of the elder brethren had formerly entered into, and in
the next printed Minutes that engagement was left out. They had made the en- |
gagement of their own accord, and among themselves, and they believed they had
a right to depart therefrom, when they pleased, seeing it was not a contract made
with Mr. Wesley, or any other person, but an agreement among themselves. It
was further argued that Mr. Wesley, while in England, could not tell what man
was qualified to govern us, as well as we could who were present and were to be
governed. We believed also that if Mr. Wesley was here himself he would he
of the same opinion with us. We then wrote a long and loving letter to Mr.
Wesley, and requested him to come over to America and visit his spiritual chil-
dren.

This step of receding from the above engagement was afterward considered
by some disaffected persons as improper. If there was any thing improper ix
the business, it was in entering into the engagement, and not in departing from it.

Wesley’s name was displaced from the next printed Minutes
entirely by the omission of this “engagement” clause. It looked
392 History of Methodism.

 

badly, and he was offended at the turn things had taken. How
far this casting off of his name and authority might imply a pres-
ent or future departure from the Founder’s principles was not
an irrelevant question in his mind. “For this,” writes Asbury,
“Mr. Wesley blamed me, and was displeased that I did not rather
reject the whole Connection, or leave them, if they did not comply.
But I could not give up the Connection so easily, after laboring sc
many years with and for them.”

Disaffected persons made sinister use of the fact that in the
new edition of the Discipline, which left Wesley’s name out, the
word bishop was used instead of his chosen superintendent, as a
personal title of Coke and Asbury. The word had been used
in the designation of their office from the organization of the
Church, and this change, indorsed by the Conferences, was ever
afterward continued in the Discipline.*

In the correspondence of the next year, an “objurgatory epis-
tle” appears, in which Wesley reminds Asbury: “There is in-
deed a wide difference between the relation wherein you stand to
the Americans and the relation wherein I stand to all the Meth-
odists. You are the elder brother of the American Methodists;
I am, under God, the father of the whole family.” And then he
indulges in a sharp rebuke to his son in the gospel:

But, in one point, my dear brother, I am a little afraid, both the Doctor and
you differ from me. I study to be little; you study to be great. I creep; you strut
along. I found a school; you a college! nay, and call it after your own names!
O beware! Do not seek to be something! Let me be nothing, and “Christ be
all in all!” One instance of this, your greatness, has given me great concern
How can you, how dare you, suffer yourself to be called bishop? I shudder, ]
start at the very thought! Men may call me a knave or a fool, a rascal, a scoun

drel, and I am content; but they shall never, by my consent, call me bishop/ For
my sake, for God’s sake, tor Christ’s sake, put a full end to this!

The concluding words, “Thus, my dear Franky, I have told
you all that is in my heart,” are in keeping with the tenor and the
purpose of the epistle to rebuke display and the vaulting ambi-
tion which some had unjustly laid to Asbury’s charge. “Had Mr.
Wesley been in America,” says a writer of a later day, “and wit-
nessed Mr. Asbury’s manner of life, throughout thu whole of his

*Instead of “Question 1. Who are the superintendents of our Church for the
United States? Answer. Thomas Coke and Francis Asbury,” the new edition
read, “Question 1. Who are the bishops of our Church for the United States?
Answer. Thomas Coke and Francis Asbury.”

 
Wesley's Name Left Off the American Minutes. 393

 

long and arduous ministry in this country, we are confident he
never could have expressed himself to that devoted and holy man
in the style of this letter. In spirit, in conversation, in deport-

. ment, in dress—in short, in whatever pertained to his person,
his equipage, and his entire movements— Mr. Asbury was a
model of apostolical simplicity; nor was any man, not even Mr.
Wesley himself, ever less justly liable to the imputation of strut-
ting than he.”

Wesley had in his eye the airs and pretensions of “the mitered
intidels” and lordly prelates of his own land; he was jealous over
his American children “ with godly jealousy”’ lest their simplicity
of character should be corrupted. He saw in the personal title,
the being called bishop, pomp and parade, official arrogance and
exclusiveness; and recent events had sharpened his pen. This
growing independence naturally excited his parental solicitude.
“Did he not upon this occasion,” says his chosen English biog-
rapher, Moore, “a little forget what he had written in his address
to the Societies in America, after their separation from the moth-
er country: ‘They are now at full liberty simply to follow the
Scriptures and the primitive Church; and we judge it best that
they should stand fast in the liberty wherewith God has so
strangely made them free.”

At the date of this letter, Asbury was making the grand tour
of the continent, along which we have followed him in a former
chapter, reaching from the sea-shore to the Mississippi Valley,
and from Charleston to New York, climbing hills and swimming
rivers, ordaining missionaries at their outposts, and setting in
order the Churches upon a scale of labor and fatigue and prog-
ress unequaled by Wesley himself, because England afforded
no equal theater of action—and all on a salary of sixty dollars a
year: “soaring, indeed,” as he admits, “but over the tops of the
highest mountains.”

The apparent discourtesy and blunder—called in the pamphlet
\iterature of the day “the leaving Mr. Wesley’s name off the
American Minutes ”—was repaired next year, thus: “ Who are
the persons that exercise the episcopal office in the Methodist
Church in Europe and America? John Wesley, Thomas Coke,
and Francis Asbury.” This act of respect was followed by an-
other question ard answer, which guarded the exclusive author-
tty of the American Church: “Who have been elected, by the
394 History of Methodism.

 

unanimous suffrages of the General Conference, to superintend
the Methodist Connection in America? Thomas Coke and Fran-
cis Asbury.”

This matter would hardly have occupied more than a para-
graph in history, but for the fact that on this letter, more than on
any thing else, the opponents of Methodism have founded their
charge that Wesley did not design to establish the American
Methodist episcopacy, but that Coke and Asbury exceeded his
intentions. Quotations from this letter have been incessantly
made, in a form well adapted to produce a false effect, for it
can be rightly comprehended only by the plain circumstances
of the case. The disingenuous and illogical uses which an
episcopal party in this country has endeavored to make of
these expressions of Wesley have strangely enough been shared
by some seceders from Episcopal Methodism who attempt to
convict the two Bishops of usurping an office which Wesley
never meant to confer. The history of the whole transaction
as already given, and in every material point allowed by these
persons, would seem to make argument with them hopeless;
with others, of more candid temper, it is needless.

No case can be better made out before a competent tribunal
than that John Wesley, upon maturest deliberation and coun-
sel, purposed and took all formal measures to establish and per-
petuate an episcopacy for American Methodism, upon a presby-
terial basis. Men, according to their notions, may differ and dis-
pute about the sufficiency or the insufficiency of that basis, the
scripturalness or the unscripturalness of that transaction; but
there can be no reasonable doubt as to what was intended and
done. John Wesley belonged to that class of Episcopalians who
believe that episcopacy is not a distinct order, but a distinct office,
in the ministry; that bishops and presbyters, or elders, are of the
same order, and have essentially the same prerogatives; but that,
for convenience, some of this order may be raised to the episcopal
office, and functions originally pertaining to the whole order—as
ordination, for example—may be confined to them. The presbyte2
thus elevated is but primus inter pares—the first among equals.*

 

* An exhaustive review of the facts connected with, and establishing, Wesley’s
Episcopal organization of American Methodism may be found in Stevens's History
(Vol. II.). This unanswerable argument has properly been made to do service as
an Appendix to the American edition of Tyerman’s Life of Wesley, correcting the
English biographer at a material point.
Methodist Episcopacy—The Primitive Type. 395

 

Richard Watson, in condition to know the initial history of
ordinations for the Methodist Episcopal Church, says: “Their
episcopacy is founded upon the principle of bishops and pres-
byters being of the same degree—a more extended office only
being assigned to the former, as in the primitive Church. For
though nothing can be more obvious than that the primitive pas-
tors are called bishops or presbyters indiscriminately in the New
Testament, yet at an early period those presbyters were, by way
of distinction, denominated bishops, who presided in the meet-
ings of the presbyters, and were finally invested with the gov-
ernment of several churches, with their respective presbyteries;
so that two offices were then, as in this case, grafted upon the
same order.” Mr. Watson adds that “such an arrangement was
highly proper for America,” and that “the bishops of the Meth-
odist Church in America have in practice as well exemplified the
primitive spirit as in principle they were conformed to the prim-
itive discipline.”

‘he following remarks are from an authority little less emi-
nent than the above:

It is clear that the New Testament does not enforce any ecclesiastical code. We
have no pattern of the Christian Church given in Mount Zion, as was given to
Moses in Horeb; no dimensions, furniture, utensils, priestly robes, specific manner
of service, as was the case in the Jewish temple. The simple reason is, Christian-
ty is designed to be universal, to embrace the whole family of man, and to give
its light, grace, holiness, and blessings to all the world. How, then, can this sys-
tem minister its mercy in the same modes? The New Testament furnishes us
with great principles, general rules, precedents, and examples, for our guidance;
and then affords freedom as to the circumstantials of time, manner, and the em-
ployment of means.

The provision made by Mr. Wesley to meet the wants of Scotland may be ad-
duced. It was found that the usual mode of doing good in England did not suit
the state of things in that country; and in consequence of this absence of adapta-
tion, the work of God did not prosper as in other places. Did the founder of our
Societies determine, doggedly and pertinaciously, to adhere to one mode of opera-
tion? Instead of this, he deviated entirely from his accustomed practice, ordained
ministers for that portion of the gospel field, and sanctioned Church principles
which, to say the least, were very different from those he adopted in this part of
the nation. In the American case we have another illustration of the point on
which we are dwelling. When the United States had effected their emancipation
from the mother country, Mr. Wesley considered himself at liberty to act with
perfect freedom in the new territory, and, we may say, to develop his views and
opinions fully; and, if we mistake not, it is to the American Methodist Episcopal
Church that we are to look for the real mind and sentiments of this great man.
Nbstructions removed, he instantly seized the opportunity of appointing an entire
396 History of Methodism.

 

Church system, on the principle of moderate episcopacy. And if we may judge
of the wisdom and piety of the design by its usefulness and success, certainly we
shall be prepared to consider it most providential *

Luther and his associated clergy believed that a system of
Church government embracing a degree of ministerial imparity
was expedient and scriptural, and organized Churches with su-
perintendents or bishops, resting explicitly upon a jure ecclesias-
tico and not upon an assumed and fictitious jure divino claim.
For the former claim, the precedent and practice of primitive
Christianity may be adduced. For the latter, no solitary passage
of Scripture can be pleaded. The Papal theory alone is con-
sistent on this point: the visible Church is a mediator between
man and God, sacramental union with which alone gives us ac-
cess to salvation; the ministry is a priesthood, having had sacer-
dotal grace transmitted to it for administering valid sacraments;
the instrument of transmission is the “sacrament of orders,”
which is intrusted exclusively to the hands of a bishop, who was
ordained by some other bishop, who likewise was ordained by
some other, until by tactual succession or ascension we come to
the very apostles of Christ themselves. This is a theory which
one can understand. It is consistent as well as plain. It lacks
but one thing—it is not true! To this theory, premises and con-
clusion, Wesley like Luther gave a distinct, unmistakable denial.f
And surely he was in good company when he said: “The unin-
terrupted succession I know to be a fable, which no man ever
did or can prove.”

Among other Churchmen of high authority, Bishop Hoadley
asserts: “It hath not pleased God, in his providence, to keep up
any proof of the least probability, or moral possibility, of a reg-
alar, uninterrupted succession; but there is a great appearance,
and, humanly speaking, a certainty, that the succession hath
often been interrupted.” And the learned Archbishop Whately:
“There is not a minister in all Christendom who is able to trace
aj), with approach to certainty, his spiritual pedigree. The

 

*Methodism in its Origin and Economy, by James Dixon, D.D., ex-president
ot the Wesleyan Conference, 1848.

¢The Wesleyan like the Lutheran movement originated its episcopacy, and
zonserved and perpetuated its spiritual forces, upon the presbyterial basis. Martin
Luther, assisted by three other presbyters, ordained the first Lutheran bishop,
Nicholas Amsdorf, January 20, 1542. Thus was originated the Lutheran episco-
pacy of Germany and Europe.
Vicious Nature of the “Succession” Claim. 397

 

transmission of orders from the apostles to an English clergy-
man of the present day must have been through a great number
of intermediate persons. Now, it is probable that no clergyman
in the Church of England can trace up his spiritual genealogy
from bishop to bishop, even so far back as the time of the Ref-
ormation. There remain fifteen or sixteen hundred years during
which the history of the transmission of his orders is buried in
utter darkness.

That such a theory of the ministry finds any acceptance is
because certain principles of human nature favor it. It pleases
the “clergy,” for it invests them with a mysterious power, an aw-
ful sanctity; and this gives them importance apart from moral
character and mental ability. The same principle long kept
the heathen oracles in credit. It is a pleasing fancy for
the people—this getting something, tangibly, by a direct line
from the apostles! The idea of an unbroken chain of ordained
persons is readily taken in, and that some special virtue must
attach to their ministrations is admitted with unthinking facility.
Baptism at their hands works inward regeneration; by their ma-
nipulations “the real presence” is communicated to bread and
wine; absolution pronounced by them goes farther and means
more than if the magic words were pronounced by others. Here
is a refuge for formality and carnal security.

Fortunately American Methodism has no such evil inheritance
as this fancied “succession” carries in its very nature; for it seems
to be inevitably corrupting to Protestantism. Itis a leaven that
works, wherever lodged, and prevails sooner or later. Like the
interdicted omer of manna which “bred worms and stank ”’—like
the brazen serpent that Israel burned incense to, and the reform-
ing king broke in pieces and put away as nehushtan—so is the
claim of the “succession,” upon whatever historical pretense. The
Low-church or Evangelical party in the English Establishment
was a power for good, when half a century ago a knot of learned
and earnest Churchmen began to push so-called succession to its
ultimate consequences. ~The essential principle of Romanism is
in it. Perversions to popery became frequent and popish ten-
dencies grew under the name of Puseyism, until we have seen
the Evangelical party wane, and the dominating influence and the
great preferments pass into the hands of its opponents. The
moderate or evangelical party in the Protestant Episcopal Church
398 History of Methodism.

 

of America was declared in his time by Bishop White to include
the large majority of his co-religionists; but it has nearly disap-
peared, and an attempt was lately made by its representatives to
organize a Reformed Episcopal Church, free from the sacerdotal
tendencies and doctrinal corruptions of the parent body.

The Methodist Episcopacy, making no claim to this spurious
line, rescues the name of bishop from perversion, and redeems
this ancient and efficient and unifying form of government from
suspicion. It gives to a pure system of doctrine the benefit of
an apostolical system of propagandism and government, while
maintaining the unity of the Spirit in fraternizing with all
evangelical denominations. Methodist episcopacy was first in
America, by several years in the persons of its bishops as well as
in the organization of its communicants, and it remains the best
type. It has central government, without the subtle temptation
or prescription to lord it over God’s heritage. It has enough of
ritual to insure decency and order in public worship, and to meet
the demands of a true cultus—without the baldness and barren-
ness and individual irregularity that offends the esthetic taste.
It has a conservative force to maintain sound doctrine with an
ageressive spirit that promulgates it. It is not so nicely balanced
as to stand still; for where large responsibility is involved it con-
fers large power, but holds it to account. Supervision is every-
where, and this supervision is itself periodically supervised.

John Wesley, knowing his brother’s opinions, did not take him
into his counsels when arranging for the American Church. Upon
Coke’s return to England, with his ordination-sermon and jour-
nal, and “ Minutes of the Methodist Episcopal Church in Amer-
ica,” the Christmas Conference matters were much discussed.
Charles was deeply wounded, and attacked Coke and the pro-
ceedings. There seems to have been no doubt, no misunder-
standing on that side of the water as to what had been intendea
and done on this. Charles Wesley exclaims against his broth-
er’s act: “Dr. Coke’s Methodist Episcopal Church in Balti-
more was intended to beget a Methodist Episcopal Church
here. You know he comes, armed with your authority, to
make us all Dissenters. One of your sons assured me that not
a preacher in London would refuse orders from the Doctor.”
One Dr. Seabury, of Connecticut, after waiting two years upon
the English bishops for ordination to the episcopacy, and failing,
Coke’s Proceedings Vindicated. 399

 

went to the non-juring bishops of Scotland and got the “suc-
cession” from them. In time it came to be regarded as an infe
rior article. He was very kind, offering to ordain such Methodist
preachers as were “qualified;” and Charles Wesley complains
that his brother and Dr. Coke did not wait for Dr. Seabury and
get orders on that line. &

Coke, condemned in the public prints for his proceedings, pub-
licly replies that he had done “nothing without the direction of
Mr. Wesley.” The charge of ambition had been more than inti-
mated, and Wesley replies to his brother: “1 believe Dr. Coke
is as free from ambition as from covetousness. He has done
nothing rashly that I know. If you will not or cannot help me
yourself, do not hinder those that can and will. I must and will
save as many souls as I can while I live, without being careful
about what may possibly be when I die.” Poets often prophesy;
and Charles uttered grievous vaticinations of the fate of the
American Methodists: “They will lose their influence and impor-
tance; they will turn to vain janglings; they will settle again upon
their lees, and, like other sects of Dissenters, come to nothing!”

His biographer, an ex-president of British Methodism, says:

Their Church has indeed violated the theory of a succession of bishops, as a dis-
tinct order, from the apostles. It has an episcopacy which was originated by a
presbyter; but it has not been a whit the less salutary on this account. As an in-
strument of extensive spiritual good to the souls of men, it appears to immense
advantage when compared with the American episcopacy with which Bishop Sea-
bury stood connected. In the Methodist Church the great design of the sacra-
ments, of preaching, and of ecclesiastical discipline, has been answered. The mem-
bers are undeniably justified through faith in the blood of Jesus, and are sanctified
by the power of the Holy Ghost. Husbands and wives, parents and children, the
aged and the young, the rich and the poor, the master and the servant, have ex-
hibited, and still exhibit, both in life and death, the piety, the zeal, the charity, the
justice, the holiness, peace, and joy of apostolical Christianity, which Charles Wes-
ley has described in his incomparable hymns. Could he have witnessed the
triumphant extension of the work of God in connection with the ordinations, he
would have smiled at his honest mistake, and have wiped away his needless tears

And yet the appointment of a bishop by presbyters is no novelty, as the early
history of the Church of Alexandria demonstrates, as well as that of the Lutheran
Church in Germany. In the appointment of Dr. Coke, Mr. Wesley did no more
than the great German reformer had done to meet the wants of the people whom
God had given him. Every reader of ecclesiastical history knows that Martin
Luther, again and again, with the aid and concurrence of his fellow-presbyters.
ordained bishops for the Protestant Church of Germany.*

 

* Life of C. Wesley, by Thomas Jackson.
400 History of Methodism.

 

The life and ministry of Charles Wesley closed out becom-
ingly. Time brings old age; the active workers slacken their
pace, and then cease. One of the most affecting incidents con-
nected with advancing life is the loss of early friends, who suc-
cessively retire to “the house appointed for all living.” This is
a warning and a preparation to survivors. The death of Perronet
was soon followed by that of Fletcher—the first peaceful, the
lasttriumphant. On his death-bed, having the most elevated and
impressive views of the atonement, Fletcher often exclaimed :

“Jesus’ blood, throngh earth and skies,
Mercy, free, boundless mercy, cries!”
and added, in the full exercise of an appropriating faith:
“Mercy’s full power I soon shall prove,
Loved with an everlasting love!”
In this manner the eloquent and successful advocate of the Wes-
leyan theology closed his eyes upon earth and passed to the en-
joyment of his endless reward.

In old age Charles Wesley’s employment and pleasures were
reduced to three things—preaching the gospel, making hymns,
and comforting those that mourn. In the pulpit the flow of spirits
and of words and of thoughts was often sluggish; but morning
and evening of Lord’s-day, he desired to be there. “In such
cases,” says his biographer—waiting for utterance and aid,
“he usually preached with his eyes closed; fumbled with his
hands about his breast; leaned with elbows upon the Bible; and
his whole body was in motion. He was often so feeble as to be
under necessity of once or twice calling upon the congregation
to sing, that he might recover himself and be able to finish his
discourse.” In prayer he was copious and mighty, especially °
upon sacramental occasions, when he seemed to “enter into the
holiest of all by the blood of Jesus.” Enfeebled by years and
disease, he continued his public religious services, in this spirit
and manner, till within a few months of his death. For con-
demned felons his compassionate concern continued undimin-
ished to the last. He visited them in their cells; wept with them
because of their guilt and misery; taught them the way to the
mercy-seat of God, through the death of his Son; prayed with
them. The last publication he sent from the press was a tract
of twelve pages, entitled, “Prayers for Condemned Malefactors,”
consisting of hymns adapted to their use.
Last Days of Charles Wesley. 401

 

At this period Charles Wesley’s appearance and habits were
peculiar. He rode every day (clothed for winter even in sum-
mer) a little horse gray with age. When he mounted, if a sub-
ject struck him, he proceeded to expand and putitinorder. He
would write a hymn thus given him, on a card (kept for that pur-
pose), with his pencil in short-hand. Not unfrequently he has
come to the house in the City Road, and, having left the pony in
the garden in front, he would enter, crying out, “Pen and ink!
pen and ink!” These being supplied, he wrote the hymn he
had been composing. When this was done, he would look round
on those present, and salute them with much kindness; ask after
their health; give out a short hymn, and thus put all in mind of
eternity. He was fond of that stanza upon those occasions:

There all the ship’s company meet.

When confined to his bed, he wished to hear nothing read but
the Holy Scriptures. “I visited him several times in his last
sickness,” said Dr. Whitehead, his physician, “and his body
was indeed reduced to the most extreme state of weakness. He
possessed that state of mind which he had been always pleased
to see in others—unaffected humility, and holy resignation to the
will of God. He had no transports of joy, but solid hope and
unshaken confidence in Christ, which kept his mind in perfect
peace.” All his prayer was for “patience and an easy death.”
Some person remarked that the valley of the shadow of death
was hard to be passed. “Not with Christ,” he replied. While in
extreme feebleness, having been silent and quiet for some time,
he called Mrs. Wesley to him, and requested her to write the
following lines at his dictation:

In age and feebleness extreme,

Who shall a sinful worm redeem?
JxEsus, my only hope thou art,
Strength of my failing flesh and heart;
O could I catch a smile from thee,
And drop into eternity!

With this swan-like note, the sweet singer glided into the up-
per choir. For fifty years Christ had been the subject of his
sermons and of his songs; and he may be said to have died
with a hymn to Christ upon his lips, March 29, 1788, at the ad-

vanced age of eighty years.
26
‘CHAPTER XXIX.

The Council: Its Failure—O’Kelley’s Schism—Hanmu.ett?’s—Charge of Heresy—
General Conference of 1792: Some of its Work—Republican Methodists—Pre
siding Elders: Their Office and its Duties Defined—John Wesley’s Death

HE want of a bond of union among the various Conferences,

that met separately in annual session, was attempted to. be
supplied by a Council. The plan of it was approved by a major-
ity of the preachers in 1789, and the Council held its first meet-
ing that year. The preamble of the enacting clause runs thus:

Whereas the holding of General Conferences on this extensive continent would
be attended with a variety of difficulties, and many inconveniences to the work of
God; and whereas we judge it expedient that a Council should be formed of chosen
men out of the several districts as representatives of the whole Connection, to meet
at stated times.

The composition of the proposed body was then stated:

Our bishops and presiding elders shall be the members of this Council; pro-
vided that the members who form the Council be never fewer than nine. And if
any unavoidable circumstance prevent the attendance of a presiding elder at the
Conncil, he shall have authority to send another elder out of his own district to
represent him; but the elder so sent by the absenting presiding elder shall have
no seat in the Council without the approbation of the bishop or bishops, and pre-
siding elders present. And if, after the above-mentioned provisions are complied
with, any unavoidable circumstance, or any contingencies reduce the number to less
than nine, the bishop shall pmediniely summon such elders as do not preside, to
complete the number.

The powers of the Council, apparently great, were really very
small. “These shall have authority to mature every thing they.
shall judge expedient: (1) to preserve the general union; (2) to
render and preserve the external form of worship similar in all
our Societies through the continent; (3) to preserve the essen-
tials of the Methodist doctrines and discipline pure and uncor-
rupted; (4) to correct all abuses and disorders; and, lastly, they
are authorized to mature every thing they may see necessary for
the good of the Church, and for promoting and imyroving our
colleges and plan of education.” A delegated General Confer-
ence seems not yet to have been thought of. The maturing Coun-
cil could only make “ recommendatory propositions,” but its own
make-up, as part of a legislative system, was open to objection.

(402)
. The Council-—Its Failure. 403

 

There was a provision which not only required unanimity in the
Council, but which, moreover, declared that “nothing so assented
to by the Council shall be binding in any district until it has been
agreed upon by a majority of the Conference held for that dis-
trict.” This neutralized any possible utility of the whole arrange-
ment, and instead of securing uniformity, made non-conformity
probable and more pronounced. “For,” said Jesse Lee, who
opposed the new plan, “if one district should agree to any im-
portant point, and another district should reject it, the union be-
tween the two districts would be broken, and in process of time our
United Societies would be thrown into disorder and confusion.”

The first session of the Council was held at Cokesbury, De-
cember 1, 1789, consisting of Richard Ivey, from Georgia; R.
Ellis, South Carolina; E. Morris, North Carolina; Philip Bruce,
Northern District of Virginia; James O’Kelley, Southern Dis-
trict of Virginia; L. Green, Ohio; Nelson Reed, Western Shore,
Maryland; J. Everett, Eastern Shore; John Dickins, Pennsy]l-
vania; J. O. Cromwell, New Jersey; and Freeborn Garrettson,
New York. Bishop Asbury says, “All our business was done in
harmony and love.” “The concerns of the college,” “the print-
ing business,” and “funds for our suffering preachers on the
western frontiers,” were subjects discussed and acted on at this
meeting. The Council was pleased with its work and closed a
session of several days with this conclusion: “Considering the
weight of the Connection, the concerns of the college, and the
printing business, it is resolved that another Council] shall be
convened at Baltimore on the 1st day of December, 1790.”

As a legislational expedient the Council was a failure, gaining
neither time nor unanimity in the adoption of necessary meas-
ures. The subsequent construction, that its acts were binding on
every one when concurred in by a majority of all the members
of the several Conferences, was a strained construction. It looks
like an after-thought. But to quiet the discontent it had ex-
cited and to meet the want which this ill-contrived and unfort-
unate expedient had clearly failed to meet, a General Conference
was called for November, 1792.

Two effects, attributed to the Council, long survived it. One
was the interpolation of the General Rules with the slavery
clause. No Conference put it there, and no editor or printer
ever confessed doing it. It happened in the time of the Council,
404 History of Methodism.

 

the limit of whose powers was not well defined, in its own estima-
tion. The other effect was the O’Kelley schism. James O’Kel-
ley was one of the thirteen preachers selected by the Christmas
Conference for the office of elder; and from this period until his
withdrawal from the Church, he continued without interruption
to fill a prominent position on the “Southern District of Vir-
ginia,” which embraced nearly all the southern counties of the
State with a portion of North Carolina. He exercised great in.
fluence over the preachers and people in that part of the work,
and as a leader was regarded as hardly second to Asbury. A
member of the Council, he was present at the first session, and
sanctioned its suggestions. But he had scarcely returned home
before he began a course of systematic opposition.

Whether this desertion of his colleagues, and, at first, covert
war on the Council, resulted from a conviction of the impropri-
ety of its acts, or from jealousy of Bishop Asbury’s growing in-
fluence, must here be left undetermined. If his objections were
founded on the acts of the Council, he should have opposed them
in its session, where one dissent would have defeated them. If
his mind had changed as to the expediency of the Council itself,
he should have opposed it on its own merits. The industrious and
insidious manner in which he assailed Asbury, and endeavored
to undermine the Bishop’s influence with all who were under
his own, makes an unfavorable impression. He did not attend
the second session of the Council, but called a convention of the
preachers of his district a month before it met; and the subjects
proposed for this irregular consultation and the spirit evoked
were such as to alarm Coke, when informed of them, for the
stability of the Church. The Council was his hobby, by which
he endeavored to convict Asbury of designs the most ambitious
and unscrupulous. However, to the surprise of those who had
been training under him to attack it, the Bishop, so soon as the
general dissatisfaction became evident, made no stand for it.
The second session, for the sake of peace, sent out no “ recom-
mendatory propositions,” and a third session was never held.*

The General Conference assembled in Baltimore, November
1st, 1792. No such assemblage had been held for eight years.
There is no “official” record of its proceedings, but Lee, who
was present, represents the gathering of preachers as numerous,

*Life and Times of McKendree, by Paine; Vol. I., page 128

 
The O’ Kelley Schism. 405

 

“from all parts of the United States where we had any circuits
formed.” They came with “the expectation that something of
great importance would take place.”

The first business of the Conference was a revision of the Dis-
cipline. On the second day O’Kelley brought forward an amend-
ment to one of the fundamental regulations of the Church. The
amendment was in the following words: “After the bishop ap-
points the preachers at Conference to their several circuits, if
any one think himself injured by the appointment, he shall have
liberty to appeal to the Conference and state his objections, and
if the Conference approve his objections, the bishop shall appoint
him to another circuit.” This proposition indirectly involved the
administration of Asbury, and he retired from the body, leav-
ing Bishop Coke to preside. O’Kelley’s motion brought.on a
long debate: the arguments for and against the proposal were
weighty, and handled in a masterly manner. “There never had
been a subject before us,” says a member, “that so fully called
forth all the strength of the preachers. A large majority of them
appeared at first to be in favor of the motion.”

After much debate, John Dickins moved to divide, the question
thus: 1. Shall the bishop appoint the preachers to the circuits?
2. Shall a preacher be allowed an appeal? Upon deliberation
this form of question was allowed. The first question being put,
it was carried without a dissenting voice. But when they came
to the second, “Shall a preacher be allowed an appeal?” all the
ground was gone over again, and the renewed contest waxed
warmer and stronger. Sunday intervened; it was a high day.
“On Monday,” says Lee, “we began the debate afresh, and con-
tinued it through the day; and at night we went to Mr. Otter-
bein’s church, and again continued it till near bed-time, when the
vote was taken, and the motion was lost by a large majority.”

Thomas Ware, a member of the Conference, says: “Had
O’Kelley’s proposition been differently managed it might possi-
bly have been carried. For myself, at first I did not see any thing
very objectionable in it; but when it came to be debated, I very
much disliked the spirit of those who advocated it, and wondered
at the severity in which the movers, and others who spoke in
favor of it, indulged in the course of their remarks. The advo-
cates of the opposite side were more dispassionate and argument-
ative. They urged that Wesley, the father of the Methodist

2A
406 History of Methodism.

 

family, had devised the plan, and deemed it essential for the
preservation of the itinerancy. The appeal, it was argued, was
rendered impracticable on account of the many difficulties with
which it was encumbered. Should one preacher appeal, and the
Conference say his appointment should be altered, the bishop
must remove some other one to make him room, in which case
the other might complain and appeal in his turn; and then again
the first might appeal from the new appointment, or others whose
appointments these successive alterations might interrupt. Hear-
ing all that was said on both sides, I was finally convinced that
the motion for such an appeal ought not to carry.”

The people had an.interest in the issue, and Asbury, by way
of caution, had put in a word for them: “Are you sure that if
you please yourselves the people will be as fully satisfied? They
often say, ‘Let us have such a preacher;’ and sometimes, ‘ We will
not have such a preacher; we will sooner pay him to stop at home.’
Perhaps I must say, ‘His appeal forced him upon you.’”

The next morning a letter was received from O’Kelley and a
few of his adherents, informing the Conference that as their res-
olution had heen rejected they could no longer retain their seats
in that body. Efforts were at once made to conciliate them; a
committee was appointed to wait on O’Kelley and those who were
joined with him, and if possible to persuade them to resume
their seats; but the effort utterly failed.

A few days after, he and his partisans set out on their return |
to Virginia, “taking their saddle-bags, great-coats, and other
bundles, on their shoulders or arms, and walking on foot to the
place where they had left their horses, which was about twelve
miles from town.” “TI stood and looked after them,” says Lee,
“as they went off, and observed to one of the preachers that I
was sorry to see the old man go off in that way, for I was per-
suaded he would not be quiet long, but he would try to be the
head of some party.”

. This debate consumed a week; it was time well spent; and then
the Conference addressed itself to other work which did much to
shape the polity of the Church.

The name of presiding elder appears for the first time in the
Discipline, and the office is defined. It had grown up out of
the elders, sparingly elected in 1784, whose duty was to give
the sacraments to the churches and to supervise, in a general
Presiding Elders and Their Duties. 407

 

way, the circuits among which they moved. With Wesley’s ap-
proval the number was afterward increased. A doubt had arisen
as to the extent of their powers within their districts, and whether
a bishop could appoint or remove them. Their designation to
their respective sections had been without respect to time.
O’Kelley had traveled the same district in Southern Virginia
ever since his ordination, and had preached there several years
before. It is supposed that disadvantages’ resulting from his
case led to the present limitations of the office. The new law
provided that the bishop should appoint the presiding elders, not
allowing them a longer term than four years on any one district.
It was likewise determined that the districts should be formed
according to the judgment of the bishop, yet so as not to include
more than twelve nor less than three circuits in a district.
Moreover, it was also said, “The bishop shall appoint the time
of holding the District Conferences.”

An Annual Conference, including several districts as now, had
not then been developed. It was not until four years later that
the territory of the Church was mapped out into Conferences in
the present way, with names and definite boundaries. The pre-
siding elder was a sort of diocesan bishop, holding his four
Quarterly Conferences for each circuit, and then, if the general
superintendent be absent, presiding at the “ Yearly Conference.”
It was a great step forward, in the efficient and thorough organi-
zation of Methodism as an Episcopal Church, when this officer’s
place and powers were defined. “Methodism,” said one of its
earliest and best expounders, “is union all over; we must draw
resources from the center to the circumference.” As the gen-
eral superintendent unifies the Connection, taking the oversight
of all the. churches, and transferring preachers from one point
to another as they are needed, without regard to Conference lines,
so the presiding elder unifies the district, with its various circuits,
stations, and missions. It is his duty: “To travel through his
appointed district; in the absence of the bishop, to take charge
of all the elders, deacons, traveling and local preachers, and ex-
horters in his district; to change, receive, and suspend preach-
ers in his district, during the intervals of the Conference, in the
absence of the bishop, as the Discipline directs; to oversee the
spiritual and temporal business of the Societies in his district;
to take care that every part of our Discipline be enforced in his
408 History of Methodism.

 

district; to attend the bishops, when present in his district, and
to give them, when absent, all necessary information, by letter,
of the state of his district.” Such officers are the supplement of
the general itinerant superintendency; without them it would be
impracticable on a continental scale. They complete the local
supervision and make the general one possible. Being selected
for experience and ability, they make a large amount of ministe-
rial talent in young or untrained men available, who otherwise
could not safely be intrusted with the pastoral care. By their
help, advice, and direction, the feeble parts are strengthened and
temporary vacancies supplied. They restrain the erring, encour-
age the despondent, plan for improvement and progress, main-
tain uniformity and continuity, and being appointees of the bish-
op, work with him to Connectional unity.

To the salaries of the traveling preachers (sixty-four dollars a
year) an addition was made of their traveling expenses. “Their
traveling expenses were to include ferriage, horse-shoeing, and
provisions for themselves and horses on the road, when they
necessarily rode a distance.” A new rule was made allowing a
preacher to receive money, if offered (but not to charge), for per-
forming the marriage ceremony; but an old one was continued
in force forbidding him to accept a gift for baptism or burial.
Inallthisweseethereputation for mercenary character which the
preceding clergy had established. Methodist preachers were so
determined to steer clear of that rock they ran upon the opposite
one. Dearly did they pay for it through many years. But the
object of this and similar regulations, as stated by the historian,
was worthy of the purest times: “To keep all the preachers as
nearly on an equal footing as possible in their money matters,
that there might be no jealousies or envying among us; but that
we, like brethren of the same famiiy, might all labor together in
the gospel of Jesus Christ.”

Provision was made for the trial of preachers for immorality,
or improper conduct, and for heresy. Also for arbitration be-
tween private members, in cases of debt or disputes about money
—thus promoting peace, and keeping them out of unseemly and
strife-provoking lawsuits.

Directions were given for the conduct of public worship, secur-
ing a due proportion of reading the Scriptures, singing, and
prayer in the congregation, as well as preaching. Special atten-
Some Rules of the Second General Conference. 409

 

tion was given to singing, because in that part of divine service
a disposition was manifested, from the beginning, to take from
the body of the people what belonged to them, by the introduc-
tion of strange and impracticable tunes. “We do not think,”
say the law-makers, “that fugue tunes are sinful, or improper
to be used in private companies, but we do not approve of
their being used in our public congregations, because publie
singing is a part of divine worship, in which all the congrega-
tion ought to join.” “Before these rules were formed,” remarks
the historian of that Conference, “a practice in the public con-
gregations had prevented many of the old saints from singing
at all, and singing in public worship was likely to be wholly con-
fined to a few. It was always a custom among the Methodists
for all the people in the congregation to sing. Singing being a
part of divine worship, we encouraged all to worship God.”

The right and order of appeal from the sentence of a lower to
a higher Church-court were secured and regulated.

In their preface to “The Doctrine and Discipline of the Meth-
odist Episcopal Church in America,” the Bishops say: “ We have
made some little alterations in the present edition, yet such as
affect not in any degree the essentials of our doctrines and dis-
cipline.” And they add this general remark, which is an answer
to all who captiously object to a new edition of the Discipline
every four years: “We think ourselves obliged frequently to
view, and review, the whole order of our Church, always aiming
at perfection; standing on the shoulders of those who have
lived before us, and taking advantage of our former selves.”

This, which may be called the second General Conference, did
not adjourn without providing for the assembling of a similar
body. One of its principal members describes it:

Notwithstanding we had some close debates, and some distressing hours during
that Conference, and with all, some of our preachers were so offended as to leave
nefore the business was half finished, yet it was a comfortable time to most of us,
and we were highly favored of the Lord with his presence and love in the last of
our sitting. The proceedings of this General Conference gave great satisfacticn
to our preachers and people; and the divisive spirit which’ had been prevailing in
different parts of our Connection, was considerably checked. And nothing that
was done gave more satisfaction than the plan that was laid for having another
General Conference at the expiration of four years from that time, to which all
the preachers in full connection were at liberty to come. Some of the preachers
who came to the Conference dissatisfied, at the close of the meeting were perfectly

reconciled, and returned to their circuits fully determined to spend and be spent
in the work of the ministry, and in the fellowship of the Church.
410 History, of Methodism.

 

- Bishop Coke went away with a higher estimate of the ability
of American itinerants. “We continued our Conference,” he
says, “for fifteen days. I had always entertained very high
ideas of the piety and zeal of the American preachers, and of
the considerable abilities of many; but I had no expectation, I
confess, that the debates would be carried on in so very masterly
a manner; so that on every question of importance the subject
seemed to be considered in every possible light.”

As was prophesied, O’Kelley did not remain quiet long: he
was soon destroying what he had helped to build up. Alluding
to his failure to get the old plan changed at the late Conference,
Asbury writes: “ For himself the Conference well knew he could
not complain of the regulation. He had been located in the
south district of Virginia for about ten successive years; and
upon his plan might have located himself, and any preacher or
set of preachers, within the district, whether the people wished
to have them or not.”

©’Kelley unfolded his scheme, on the way from Baltimore, to
a young itinerant who was temporarily under his malign infiu-
ence, but escaped out of the snare in time to be a burning and
a shining light and a trusted leader.—It was, to have “a repub-
lican, no-slavery, glorious Church! Bishop Asbury was a pope;
the General Conference was a revolutionizing body; the Bishop
and his creatures were working the ruin of the Church to gratify
their pride and ambition!”

He labored diligently to sow broadcast the seeds of strife
and disunion. By private letters and public harangues he strove
to excite the public against Asbury and the Church government.
Writing to a friend of former days, he said: “No doubt you have
heard I had resigned my place in Conference. I protest against
a consolidated government, or any one lord, or archbishop, claim-
ing apostolic authority, declaring to have the keys. Thus our
ministry have raised a throne for bishops, which being a human
invention, a deviation from Christ aud dear Mr. Wesley, I cor-
dially refuse to touch.” In one of the pamphlets which soon be-
gan to be issued, Asbury was called the “Baltimore Bull,” and
a rude picture of a bull’s head graced the title-page.

O’Kelley adroitly availed himself of the political agitations
of the day and organized his associates under the popular name
and title of “Republican Methodists.”
The Spirit of Division—Its Cost. 411

 

“Tt was enough,” says Jesse Lee, “to make the saints of God
weep between the porch and the altar, and that both day and
night, to see how the Lord’s flock was carried away captive by
that division.” He thus describes it:

All were to be on an equal footing. One preacher was not to be above another,
nor higher in office or in power than another. No superiority or subordination
was to be known among them. They promised to the lay members of the Churck
greater liberties than they had formerly enjoyed among us, and prevailed with a
good many of our people to leave us and join them. In some places they took from
us whole Societies together, and in many places they drew off a part. Others they
threw into confusion; and in some places they scattered the flock and separated the
people one from the other, without securing them to their own party. Brother
was turned against brother, and one Christian friend against another. The main
contention was about the government of the Church; who should govern it, or in
what manner it ought to be governed. In this mist of darkness and confusion,
many religious people, who had been warm advocates for the life and power of
religion, began to contend about Church government, and neglect the duties of
religion, till they were turned back to the world, and gave up religion altogether.

The spirit of division prevailed chiefly in the southern part of
Virginia, and in the border counties of North Carolina, in all
which region the personal influence of O’Kelley has been seen.
It also extended beyond these limits. We find the first two
missionaries in Kentucky—Ogden and Haw—drawn away into
his scheme. And in other places, he had adherents.

In 1801, O’Kelley issued a pamphlet in which he announced
himself and his adherents as “The Christian Church,” renounc-
ing all rules of Church government but the New Testament, as
interpreted by every man for himself. Some of his Societies
readily assumed the high-sounding name, others hesitated and
divisions followed. One party clung to O’Kelley as “The Chris-
tian Church;” another followed John Robertson as “ Republican
Methodists;” and yet another, under the lead of Guirey and oth-
ers, set up for themselves under the title of “Independent Chris-
tian Baptist Church.” * Lee, writing in 1809, says: “They have
been divided and subdivided till at present it is hard to find two
of them that are of one opinion. There are now but few of them
in that part of Virginia where they were the most numerous.”

The hurt done may in part be estimated by figures. At the
close of 1791, the Methodist membership numbered 63,269 whites,
and 12,884 colored—total 76,153. It was not until 1801 that these
figures were again reached. At the end of the first four years of

 

* Bennett’s Memorials of Methodism in Virginia.
412 History of Methodism.

 

Episcopal Methodism, as already stated, its membership was
doubled; and in the next three, it was more than doubled. Moy-
ing forward at this rate, it was arrested by a decade of strife.
The lowest point is shown in the returns of 1796, when 45,384
white members, and 11,260 colored were reported. The Church
then recovered its tone; the falling away ceased; and the next
year showed a gain of 1,060 white, 958 colored members; and
there was a steady annual increase afterward.

Bishop Asbury met the Virginia Conference at Manchester,
November 26—twelve days after the General Conference ad-
journed. The plague was begun; he threw himself promptly
into the leader’s stronghold, and did what he could to arrest the
evil. Among the painful incidents of the session was a letter
from a young preacher—Wm. McKendree—respectfully declin-
ing to take an appointment for the ensuing year. He was a lately
ordained elder, and from the beginning of his ministry had been
in O’Kelley’s district. The arch-agitator had nursed him dili-
gently for years, and had shaken his confidence in Asbury and
the Church government. He had the young man for his travel-
ing companion to Baltimore, roomed with him, and brought him
away on the failure of his motion. McKendree did not with-
draw; he wanted time to consider. His biographer tells the rest:

Shortly after the close of the Conference, Bishop Asbury passed through the
neighborhood of Mr. McKendree’s father. The mind of young McKendree was
ill at ease about his duty, and having had an interview with the Bishop, he was
treated with great kindness, and invited to travel with him awhile. The invita-
tion was accepted, and as they went from one appointment to another, through the
eastern portion of Virginia, they calmly and fully discussed the subjects of Church
government—especially Methodist government—the late attempt to change the
system, the course and design of Mr. O’Kelley, and the consequences likely to re-
sult to himself and others. Bishop Asbury did not correspond to the description
which Mr. McKendree had heard of him. Instead of being austere, proud, ambi-
tious, and bent upon subjecting the liberties of the membership and the ministry
te his will, he was surprised to find him humble, devout, self-denying, and unceas-
ing in his efforts for the welfare of the Church. He soon understood, too, the
evil consequences which would inevitably follow the adoption of O’Kelley’s late
favorite measure—the ruin of the general superintendency, and of the whole itin-
erant system. The spell of the enchanter was broken; humbled and mortified at
iis own weakness, with characteristic candor, he confessed his error, was received
again into the confidence of the noble and warm-hearted old Bishop, and at once
sent to the city of Norfolk.*

 

* Paine’s Life and Times of McKendree.
Hammett’s Schism. 413

 

It was only a month’s suspension of an itinerant ministry which
ended, as we shall see, only with his useful and holy life. This
shaking up, this honest doubt, led him to study the whole sub-
ject closely, and McKendree became the constitutional expounder
of Methodism. He mastered the philosophy as well as the .le-
tails of its government, and was prepared, at a future crisis, to
stand in the breach and save it against a host of strong men.

While Asbury spared no pains to expose O’Kelley’s errors an-!
thwart his plans and counteract his mischievous influence, he kept
his heart right toward him. At Winchester, hearing that his
former friend was lying ill, the Bishop sent two brethren t» say
that he would wait on him if hedesired it. They“ met in peace
asked of each other’s welfare, talked of persons and things in-
differently, prayed, and parted in peace. Not a word was said of
the troubles of former times.” This was their first interview after
the rupture, and the last. O’Kelley lived to be ninety-two years
of age, dying in 1826. “He saw the man whom he had sought
to ruin descend to his grave in peace and full of honors, mourned
by grateful thousands as the Father of American Methodism.
He saw his place filled and his principles defended by another,
whom he had fondly marked for a leader in his own ranks. He
saw hundreds of his own followers forsaking him, and rallying
again to the standard of Episcopal Methodism. He saw those:
who remained scattered and broken into contending factions.
All this he lived to witness, and in the face of all, the stern old
man clung to his cause with a heroism worthy of a better one,
and with faltering voice and failing strength proclaimed his con-
fidence in its ultimate success.”

Impartial history requires us to say we find no evidence of the
heresy alleged against James O’Kelley—that he was unsound
on the Trinity, and hastened his secession for fear of being
brought to trial. An error so radical must have worked out, in
him and his followers, striking manifestations; but none such
appear. The few preachers and people who continue to repre-
sent him represent also, so far as known, a sound doctrine and
experience. The trouble was governmental, not doctrinal; and
in the later adjustments of Episcopal Methodism, occasion could
hardly be found for its recurrence.

Evil was in the air. The spirit of dissension was rife. About
this time the Church in Charleston was humbled and brought
414 History of Methodism.

very low by a schism that extended to Georgetown and Wilming-
ton, and ate like a canker into the country congregations from those
centers. Another young minister, who subsequently entered
into the best Methodist history, also barely escaped this snare.
The father of William Capers had been an officer with Marion
and Sumter in the Revolution; was a man of wealth and social
position, and one of Asbury’s best friends. There was a camp-
meeting near Rembert Hall, in November, 1808. Bishop As-
bury was there. The late Bishop Capers, then just entering the
ministry, in his autobiography gives the leading facts:

In the former days my father’s house was one of his favorite homes, My father
was of the first race of Methodists in South Carolina, and a decided and influential
one; he had declined from his spirituality some time after his removal to George-
town District; and not till the present year had he recovered it. On Dr. Coke’s
visit to America in 1791, he was accompanied from the West Indies to Charleston
by William Hammett, and this Mr. Hammett choosing to remain in Charlestcn,
found some occasion to object to Mr. Asbury and the American preachers, as ir
they had done him a wrong on account of his devotion to Mr. Wesley; Mr. Asbury
being (as he represented) ambitious of supplanting Mr. Wesley with the American
people. Mr. Hammett had the confidence of Mr. Wesley (by what means does not
appear) to the last of his life; and on that foundation he raised his Society of
Primitive Methodists. And when we consider that there were then no Methodist
books published in America, and the people knew little of the action of the Con-
ferences, but what they got verbally from the preachers, and that Mr. Hammett
had been introduced by Dr. Coke as one of the most godly as well as the most
gifted of the preachers, the wonder is not that he should have drawn off to him-
self, under a banner inscribed “ Wesley against Asbury,” some of the most influ-
ential of the people, but we might wonder rather that he did not seduce them all;
and the more, as he was unquestionably an eloquent and able man, of fine person
and engaging manners, and at first vastly popular. But his work did not prosper.
He had estranged his adherents, of whom my father was one, from the rest of the
Methodists, whom they called “the Asbury Methodists,” for no good result either
to himself or them. I was introduced to Bishop Asbury immediately on his com-
ing to the camp-meeting, as I happened to be in the preachers’ tent at the time of
his arrival. I approached him timidly, you may be sure, and with a feeling of pro-
found veneration; but “Ah,” said he, “this is the baby; come and let me hug you;”
meaning that I was the baby when he was last at my father’s house. On my father’s
entering the tent, he rose hastily from his seat and met him with his arms extended,
and they embraced each other with mutual emotion. It had been seventeen years
since they had seen each other; and yet the Bishop asked after Sally and Gabriel,
as if it had been but a few months, and repeated gleefully, “I have got the baby!”
[t was evident that no common friendship had subsisted between them; and how
much happier had those years of estrangement been to my honored father if they
had been passed in the fellowship which he had been seduced to leave! I hate
schism, I abhor it as the very track and trail of him who “as a roaring lion walk-
sth about seeking whom he may devour.”
The Close of Wesley’s Life. 415

 

Hammett’s schism was not so extensive as his brother Irish-
man’s; he lacked his fierce energy and his large acquaintance.
In Charleston enough members were drawn away from the “ Blue
Meeting-house,” and enough outsiders enlisted to build a fine
chapel and parsonage. After fifteen or twenty years, by pur-
chase or by treaty, this Trinity Church and other Hammett
church property in other places, with most of the membership,
reverted to the oldside or Asbury Methodists. The oak is rooted
by storms as wellas bysunshine. In thelong run it may be well
that Episcopal Methodism endured such ordeals at the begin-
ning; but the souls of men are in the crucible, and humanity
grudges a wasteful consumption.

The two bishops were passing through Virginia, when Asbury
made this entry in his journal for April 29, 1791:

The solemn news reached our ears that the public papers had announced the
death of that dear man of God, John Wesley. He died in his own house in Lon-
don, in the eighty-eighth year of his age, after preaching the gospel for sixty-four
years. Brother Coke was sunk in spirit, and wished to hasten home immediately.
For myself, notwithstanding my long absence from Mr. Wesley, and a few unpleas-
ant expressions in some of his letters the dear old man has written to me (occa-
sioned by the misrepresentation of others), I feel the stroke most sensibly. Dr.
Coke set out for Baltimore in order to get the most speedy passage to England;
leaving me to fill the appointments.

At Alexandria the solemn news was confirmed—John Wesley
had died March 2d. “Our people die well,” was his thought-
ful summary of the death-bed experiences of the first Method-
ists, half a century before; and his own death was no exception.
The prayer that was often on his lips was answered:

“O that without a lingering groan
I may the welcome word receive,
My body with my charge lay down,
And cease at once to work and live.”

His journal shows this last birthday record: “June 28, 1790.—
This day, I enter into my eighty-eighth year. For above eighty-
six years, I found none of the infirmities of old age; my eyes did
not wax dim, neither was my natural strength abated; but, last Au-
gust, I found almost a sudden change. My eyes were so dim that
no glasses would help me. My strength likewise now quite for-
sook me; and probably will not return in this world. But I feel
no pain from head to foot; only it seems nature is exhausted; and
416 a History of Methodism.

 

humanly speaking, will sink more and more, till ‘the weary
springs of life stand still at last.’”

A month before that, he was making his tour in the North.
One of his preachers writes: “In the latter end of May, Mr.
Wesley visited us. He came from Glasgow that day (about sev-
enty miles), but his strength was almost exhausted, and, when he
attempted to preach, very few could hear him. His sight was
likewise much decayed, so that he could neither read the hymn
or text.” And a month before that he preached at Bradshaw,
where, on his tottering up the pulpit stairs, the whole congrega-
tion burst into a flood of tears. Wesley’s old age was fruitful
as well as beautiful. Marvelous had been the success of Meth-
odism up to the year 1780; and, yet, the results during the last
ten years of his life were more than double the united results of
the forty years preceding.

At the age of seventy-five he published the first number of his
Arminian Magazine (1778)—now the oldest in the world—and
was its editor and most valuable contributor to the last year of
his life; furnishing six sermons annually, fresh and vigorous.
When eighty-five years old we find him breakfasting at three
o’clock in the morning with a friend. Addressing his coachman
at this early breakfast in the city of York, he said: “Have the
carriage at the door atfour. Ido not mean a quarter or five min-
utes past, but four.” He still preaches once or twice a day, but
begins to find three sermons on Sunday not always convenient.
Taking stock of himself at this time, he says: “It is true, I am
not so agile as I was in times past. I do not run or walk so fast
as I did; my sight is a little decayed. I find, likewise, some de-
cay in my memory, with regard to names and things lately past,
but not at all with regard to what I have read or heard twenty,
forty, or sixty years ago; neither do I find any decay in my hear-
ing, smell, taste, or appetite (though I want but a third part of
the food I did once); nor do I feel any such thing as weariness,
either in traveling or preaching; and I am not conscious of any
decay in writing sermons; which I do as readily, and I believe
as correctly, as ever.” To two things chiefly, under God’s bless-
ing, he thinks this prolonging of his tranquillity may be attrib-
uted—*“to my having constantly, for above sixty years, risen at
four in the morning; and to my constant preaching at five in the
morning, for above fifty years.”
“The Best of All is, God is With Us.” 41T

The last letter he wrote to America bore date February 1, 1791,
and was addressed to Ezekiel Cooper who died in 1847, “the old-
est Methodist preacher in the world.” He says:

 

Those that desire to write or to say any thing to me have no time to lose, for
time has shaken me by the hand, and death is not far behind. I have given a
distinct account of the work of God which has been wrought in Britain and Ire-
land for more than half a century. We want some of you to give us a connected
relation of what our Lord has been doing in America since the time that Rich-
ard Boardman accepted the invitation and left his country to serve you. See that
you never give place to one thought of separating from your brethren in Europe.
Lose no opportunity of declaring to all men that the Methodists are one people
in all the world, and that it is their full determination so to continue—

Though mountains rise, and oceans roll,
To sever us In vain.

The death of Charles Wesley deeply and permanently affected
him. He was far away on his wide field at the time his brother
died and was buried; but it is recorded as a curious incident that
(as was afterward ascertained) he and his congregation, at the
very moment of his brother’s exit, were singing:

“Come let us join our friends above
That have obtained the prize.”

A fortnight afterward he attempted to give out, as his second
hymn, the one beginning with the words, “Come, O thou trav-
eler unknown;” but when he came to the lines,

My company before is gone,

And I am left alone with Thee,
the bereaved old man sunk down under uncontrollable emotion,
‘burst into tears, and hid his face with his hands. The congrega-
tion well knew the cause of his speechless excitement; singing
ceased; and the chapel became a Bochim. At length, Wesley
recovered himself, rose again, and went through a service which
was never forgotten by those who were present.

February 24, 1791, he rose at 4 a.M.; went to an appointment
eighteen miles from London, and preached from “Seek ye the Lord
while he may be found; call upon him while he is near.” This
was WesjJey’s last sermon—the last of more than forty thousand.
Such symptoms appeared on the 26th that a physician was called
in. Sunday morning, the 27th, he seemed better, sat in his chair
looked cheerful, and repeated from one of his brother’s hymns:

“Till glad I lay this body down,
Thy servant, Lord, attend;
And O my life of mercies crown
With a triumphant end!”
£18 History of Methodism.

 

And soon after, with marked emphasis, he repeated the Master’s
words—‘“ Our friend Lazarus sleepeth.” ‘“lIwant to write,” said
‘he. A pen was put in his hand, and paper was placed before
him; but his hand had forgot its cunning. “I cannot,” said the
dying man. “Let me write for you,” remarked his niece; “tell
me what you wish to say.” “Nothing,” he replied, “but that
God is with us.” “I will get up,” was his firmly expressed wish
at another time, after repose; and, while his friends were arrang.
ing his clothes, Wesley began singing:
“T’ll praise my Maker while I’ve breath;
And, when my voice is lost in death,
Praise shall employ my nobler powers:
My days of praise shall ne’er be past,
While life, and thought, and being last,
Or immortality endures.”
Once more seated in his chair, in a weak voice, he sung what
proved to be his last song on earth:
“To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
Who sweetly all agree.”
His voice failed; he whispered: “Now we have done. Let us all
go.” Happy, but exhausted, he was put to bed, where, after a
short but quiet sleep, he opened his eyes, and addressing the lov-
ing watchers who stood around him, said, “Pray, and praise!”
They were at once upon their knees, and fervent were the dying
patriarch’s responses, especially to the prayer that God would
still bless the system of doctrine and discipline which he had
been the means of introducing into the world. On rising from
their knees, he took hold of all their hands and with the utmost
placidness saluted them, and said, “Farewell, farewell.” A lit-
tle after, a person coming in, he strove to speak, but could not.
Finding they could not understand him, he paused a little, and
then, with all the remaining strength he had, cried out, “The
best of all is, Gud is with us!” and soon after, lifting up his
arm in token of victory, and raising his feeble voice with a
holy triumph not to be expressed, he again repeated the heart-
reviving words, “The best of all is, God is with us.”
Wednesday morning the closing scene drew near. A faith-
ful friend prayed with him, and the last word he was heard to
articulate was, “Farewell!” A few minutes before ten, without
a groan, this beloved pastor of thousands entered into rest.
The World's Verdict. 419

 

John Wesley needs no eulogy from his children. Methodists
may not speak. Let others declare the truth.

“He was aman,” says Lord Macaulay, “whose eloquence and
logical acuteness might have rendered him eminent in litera-
ture; whose genius for government was not inferior to that of
Richelieu; and who devoted all his powers, in defiance of oblo-
quy and derision, to what he sincerely considered the highest
good of his species.”

“A greater poet may rise than Homer or Milton,” writes Dr.
Dobbin, of Oxford University, “a greater theologian than Calvin,
a greater philosopher than Bacon, a greater dramatist than any
of ancient or modern fame; but a more distinguished revivalist
of the Churches than John Wesley, never.”

The judgment of Southey, in a letter to Wilberforce, is: “I
consider Wesley as the most influential mind of the last century
—the man who will have produced the greatest effects, centuries,
or perhaps millenniums hence, if the present race of men should
continue so long.”

March 30, 1876, Dean Stanley unveiled a monument, in West-
minster Abbey, to John and Charles Wesley. “As you will see
presently, when the monument is uncovered,” said he, “John
Wesley is represented as preaching upon his father’s tomb; and
Thave always thought that that is, as it were, a parable which rep-
resented his relation to our own national institutions. He took
his stand upon his father’s tomb-—on the venerable and ancestral
traditions ef the country and of the Church. That was the
stand from which he addressed the world; it was not from the
points of disagreement, but from the points of agreement with
them in the Christian religion, that he produced those great
effects which have never since died out in English Christendom.”

A space in the wall on the south aisle of the venerable Abbey,
three by nine feet, is filled with a massive white marble tablet.
Within a sunken circle are medallion profiles, life-size, of the
two brothers. Above, are their names, with date of birth and
death. Below—“THE BEST OF ALL 18, GOD IS WITH US.” Be-
neath this quotation is sculptured, in bold bas-relief, John
Wesley preaching on his father’s tombstone. At the bottom is
Charles Wesley’s exultant exclamation:

“GoD BURIES HIS WORKMEN, BUT CARRIES ON HIS WORE.”
CHAPTER XXX.

Jesse Lee Enters New England—lInhospitable Reception—The Difficulties—-Gaira
a Footing—The Need of Methodism There—Asbury Confirming the Work—
Soule—Fisk—Hedding—Bangs—Boston Common—Success—Memorial.

SCULPTOR, mallet and chisel in hand, stands before a
fine block of marble. It is cold and hard, but he sees a
warm and noble statue in it and falls to work to release it. So
might Jesse Lee have contemplated New England. Soule and
Hedding, Mudge and Merritt, Sabin, Broadhead, Fisk, Bangs,
and Hunt, and others, are there, with a host of members true to
their principles, earnest in their convictions; saving much and
giving much; taking a great deal of interest in their neighbors’
affairs and managing their own thriftily; the last field to be
entered by Methodism and the first to report any thing like a
well-endowed Methodist College; potentially fruitful of mission-
aries and Church historians—such a land was worth possessing.
As yet, Methodist preachers had gone round it: they had
spread to Canada and Nova Scotia on the north; to Utica on the
west, and entered the Valley of Wyoming; but no entrance had
been effected into New England. Jesse Lee felt this to be his
mission. He had been gradually approaching it; starting at
Salisbury, thence to Baltimore, and thence to New Jersey, he
was ready to cross the border and only waited the word from the
general superintendent. He had heard of Yankee learning, with-
out dismay. His library, itinerant like himself, embraced a Bi-
ble, hymn-book, and Discipline. In common with itinerants, itis
likely that he wore a straight-breasted coat, and a white cravat
without collar; that his face was smooth-shaven, and his hat had
an ample brim; and he traveled on horseback. In the forks of
the Yadkin he had picked up a little colloquial Dutch; and when
to test his scholarship the parsons and school-masters, full of
Greek and Latin, addressed him in an unknown tongue, he paid
them back in their own coin. Ready and witty when self-defense
called for it, he was also loving and pathetic: at once ten-
der and sharp, the very man for such an enterprise. He pos-
sessed a courage which nothing could daunt, and a cheerfulness
(420)
“A ELIJAH HEDDING. Ps \ROBT R.ROBERTSS

 
Jesse Lee in New England. 421

 

that never failed. His style of address was full of shrewdness
as well as of force, whereby he could rivet the attention of any
audience, going straight to the hearts of his hearers, “putting
them at once on the defensive if they were inclined to contro-
versy, or carrying them completely with him if they were hon-
est seekers after the truth.” In person of magnificent presence,
thirty-two years old, and above the ordinary size, he had the
inanners of a Christian gentleman, and could sing the Meth-
vdist hymns in a style that left little use for church-bells to call
together his congregation. His crowning endowment for a mis-
sion among the descendants of the Puritans was an abiding con-
viction that he was directed by God to bestow on them some spir-
itual gifts which they needed. Full of the Holy Ghost and faith
he did not expect a holiday recreation; he counted on difficulties
and discouragements, but he had faith in the power of the gos-
pel. It was the old battle of lamps and pitchers, of the sword
of the Lord and of Gideon.

“ Stamford—Jesse Lee,” was read out by Bishop Asbury at the
close of Conference held in New York, May,1789. Stamford was
the first town in Connecticut over the border line, and really
meant all New England, where Methodism had not a single
member, and what had been heard of it had made the name
synonymous with fanaticism and heresy. To the appointee the
whole territory was new; and if he should enter any door, it
would be after he had pushed it open. Three capital disabili-
ties had to be met: He was from the South, a quarter from which
the people he was sent to did not look for light; he was an Ar-
minian, and hardly any thing worse could be said of his doctrine
among the descendants of the Pilgrims, where predestination,
election, reprobation, decrees, final perseverance, and kindred
dogmas, were secured behind strong and venerable intrench-
ments; lastly, he was not, in technical phrase, an “ educated min-
ister.” Among his first adventures, after crossing the line, was
this: He alighted at the door of an inn, and told the hostess he
was a preacher and wished to preach in the village. “Have you
a liberal education, sir?” “Tolerable, madam; snoughs I think,
to carry me through the country.”

Another peculiarity of the situation may be added: The land
was divided into parishes and dotted over with meeting-houses,

and it was held to be the duty of every citizen to support the
2B
422 History of Methodism.

 

gospel just as much as to support the public roads or the public
schools. The clergy were'a ruling class in secular as well as in
spiritual affairs; their salaries were raised by taxes collectable by
law from unwilling parishioners; and for years no one could hold
office unless he were a member of a Church of “The Standiug
Order” —that is to say, Orthodox Congregationalism. To be
exempted from this tax one must certify to the parish authorities
that he “did duty” in connection with some other religious So-
ciety. Thus the formation of other Societies within territory
tributary to the “standing order” furnished an opportunity for
persons to take themselves and their property out from under the
operation of the Church tax law; on which account the setting
up of any new religious organization was a serious affair, finan-
cially as well as theologically. It has been the fashion in certain
quarters to accuse the old-time clergy of New England of “say-
age orthodoxy,” in view of their opposition to the Methodist
movement; but a careful study of the situation will show an-
other side to the shield. It was not only the theology of Geneva
and Westminster they were defending, but their political, finan-
cial, and social preéminence. “Free grace and free-will were bad
enough, but free Churches were worse.” There waa too much
freedom already; and if Methodist churches, on the voluntary
system, were to become numerous, there would be a falling off
in parish revenues.*

When they questioned him about “principles,” and argued on
the “five points,” Lee was not troubled; but he sorely felt the
lack of hospitality. On reaching a house to which he had beer
invited, no one offered him a seat; helping himself to a chair, he
tried to be at home; when the hour for preaching came, not one
of the family would go; on his return from meeting, scarcely a
word was spoken to him; the man of the house held prayers, and
said nothing to his guest; in the morning the whole family slept
against time, and Lee was compelled to leave fasting.

His first day’s experience was often repeated: “June 17.—I set
vat with prayer to God for a blessing on my endeavors, and with
an expectation of many oppositions.” Arrived in Norwalk, he ap-
plied for a private house to preach in, but was refused. He ther
asked for the use of an old deserted building, but was again re-

 

*History of Methodism, by Rev. W. H. Daniels, A.M.
Rebuffs and Welcomes. 423

 

fused. He proposed to preach in a neighboring orchard, but was
still repulsed. He took his stand at last under an apple-tree on
the public road, surrounded by twenty hearers. “After singing
and praying,” he says, “I preached on ‘Ye must be born again.’
I felt happy that we were favored with so comfortable a place.
After preaching I told the people that I intended to be with them
again in two weeks, and if any of them would open their houses
to receive me I should be glad; but if they were not willing, we
would meet at the same place.”

‘Sometimes he got the school-house, or a barn, or the court.
house, or a private dwelling; for a preaching-place, and sometimes
it was under the trees. Three months of chilling rebuffs and
occasional welcomes passed, he preached at Stratfield, and after
the sermon conducted “a kind of class-meeting,” composed of
about twenty persons. This led to the formation, the next day,
of the first class, composed of three women, who, he says, “ap-
peared willing to bear the cross, and have their names cast out as
evil, for the Lord’s sake.” At Hartford he is allowed the State-
house: “They were very solemn and attentive; many of them
were deeply affected, and wept bitterly under the word. It ap-
peared to me that God was opening the way for us.” Return-
ing, in his circuit, to this place, he records:

I was informed that several persons were awakened by my preaching when I
was here before. The hearing of this humbled my soul in the dust, and strength-
ened my faith. Ah, Lord, what am I, that thou shouldst own my labors and com-
fort my soul? Not unto me, not unto me, O Lord, but unto thy name be the glory!
At two o’clock they rang the bell, and we met in the State-house. I preached on
1 Thessalonians v. 19. I had a large number of hearers to speak to; and glory
be to God for his goodness to me while preaching his word! I felt my soul happy
in the Lord; the people heard with great attention, and with many tears.

In one of the villages of Connecticut there lived at this time an
honest and intelligent blacksmith, who, when Lee appeared there,
kept his family at home, lest they should become infected with
the itinerant’s heterodoxy. One of his sons, about twelve years
old, heard of the arrival of the stranger. He was not allowed to
hear him preach, but never forgot the marvelous rumors of his

‘ministry. He was to become Lee’s successor in this very field,
and to do important service for his Church. Such, says his bi-
ographer, was Nathan Bangs’s first knowledge of Methodism.

At Farmington, the itinerant came face to face with “princi
ples,” which means dispute. He was entertained by a Mr. W.:
‘

424 History of Methodism.

 

We had been there but a little time before the old man began to talk about
principles, and the old lady to prepare dinner. We continued the discourse till we
had dined. When the old man found out that we believe a person might fall from
grace and be lost, he discovered a good deal of anger, and said, “If David had died
in the act of adultery, and Peter while swearing, they would have been saved.”
“Then,” said I, “after a man is converted he is obliged to be saved; he can’t he y
it’? “Yes,” said he, “he is obliged to be saved, whether he will or not, for it is
impossible for him to help it.” He said he would as soon hear us curse God at
snce as to hear us say that God would give his love to a person and then take it
away. I told him God would never take it away, but we might cast it away. See-
ing he was much rufiled in his temper, I thought it best to be moving; so we asked
him the way to Mr. Coles’s, but he would not tell us, for he said Mr. Coles would
not like his sending such men to his house. However, we got directions from his
wife, and then we set out. I shook hands with the old man, and told him I hoped
God would reward him for his kindness.

After preaching at Fairfield, on a cold wintry night, Decem-
ber 24, he exclaimed: “To-night, thanks be to God, I was in-
vited by a widow woman to put up at her house. This is the
first invitation I have had since I first came to the place, which
is between six and seven months. O my Lord, send more labor-
ers into this part of thy vineyard! I love to break up new ground,
and hunt the lost souls in New England, though it is hard work;
but when Christ is with me, hard things are made easy, and rough
ways made smooth.”

Monday, the 28th, was the date of the second Society. “I
preached,” he writes, “in Reading, and found great assistance
from the Lord in speaking. JI felt that God was among the peo-
ple. One or two kneeled down with me when we prayed. The
lion begins to roar very loud in this place, a sure sign that he is
about to lose some of his subjects. I joined two in Society for
a beginning. A man who has lately received the witness of his
being in favor with the Lord led the way, and a woman who, I
hope, was lately converted, followed.”

January 28,1790. “I set out,” he writes, “and my soul was
transported with joy; the snow falling, the wind blowing, prayer
ascending, faith increasing, grace descending, heaven smiling,
and love abounding. I preached at Jacob Wheeler’s, in Lime-
stone, and after meeting formed a class, two men and two women.
Perhaps these may be like the leaven hid in the three measures
of meal, that they may leaven the whole neighborhood.” After
seven months’ hard labor, he has three classes with an aggregate
of eight members.
Preaching in Boston Common. 425

 

Lee had reported to Asbury and asked for help. He was hold-
ing a quarterly-meeting at Dantown, the last of February, in an
unfinished church—the second one begun in New England—when
he heard the news, joyful news to a solitary laborer: “Help was
coming.” He describes the occasion:

Just before the time of meeting a friend informed me that there were three
preachers coming from a distance to labor with me in New England. I was greaily
pleased at the report, and my heart seemed to reply, “Blessed is he that cometh
in the name of the Lord.” When I saw them riding up I stood and looked at
them, and could say from my heart, “Thou hast well done, that thou art come.”
Jacob Brush, an elder, and-George Roberts and Daniel Smith, two young preachers,
came from Maryland, to assist me in this part of the world. No one knows, but
God and myself, what comfort and joy I felt at their arrival.

Leaving the two circuits that he had organized ‘in charge uf
these recruits—not quite an average of three members to each—
Lee himself made a long excursion through the States of Massa-
chusetts, New Hampshire, and Vermont, and back again to Con-
necticut. His eye was fixed on Boston, where he arrived July,
1790. For several days he sought for a preaching-place, but no
door was opened to him. Boston was not conscious of wanting
any thing in the way of religious instruction that a Methodist
and an Arminian would offer.

After spending a week trying to find a place to preach, and
being refused on every side, he borrowed a table, and placing it
under the old elm near the center of the Common, he mounted it
and began to sing and pray with a congregation of four persons:
at the close of service it had increased to three thousand. The
next Sabbath he repeated the experiment; but he did not effect a
permanent footing, and passed on to Lynn, Newburyport, and
Portsmouth. On his return, he tried Boston again, and had to
resort to the old stand on the Common. On making another
evangelizing tour, he returned to Boston, where he spent four
weeks; but every house was closed against him. It was on the
verge of winter and the Common was deserted, save by those who
hurried across it, wrapped in cloaks, to their warm, cozy homes.
Sad and weary, he sat down to ponder on what should next be done.
In the midst of these discouragements, aggravated by an empty
purse, he received a letter from a gentleman in Lynn, inviting him
to his house. This was a ray of light; he went, letter in hand, to
Lynn, and was cordially received. Here he preached the first
Methodist sermon ever delivered in that town, and, February 20,
426 History of Methodssm.

 

1791, formed a Society of eight members, which was increased
to seventy in three months. The 14th of June they began to
build the first Methodist church in Massachusetts, and dedicated
it on the 26th: a mere wooden shell, but better than nothing.
Making Lynn his head-quarters, Lee sallied forth in all directions,
not overlooking Boston.

Extemporaneous preaching, like every thing else that pertained
to Methodism, was misunderstood. It was represented not as
preaching without reading, but preaching without preparation.
It pleased the people, but was a novelty and a stumbling-block to
the parsons. One of them consented that Lee might preach in
his church on condition that he should select the text and present
it after Lee had entered the pulpit. To this he agreed. The
matter was noised through the village, and the house was crowd-
ed to witness the discomfiture of the new-comer. The intro-
ductory services over, the minister handed Lee the text. It was
Numbers xxii. 21: “And Balaam rose up in the morning, and sad
dled his ass.” The parson composed himself in his seat with a
look of grim satisfaction. Being well acquainted with the story
of Balaam, Lee proceeded at once to describe his character, des-
canting largely on his avarice and love of the wages of unright-
eousness, denouncing in severe language the baseness of the man
who could use the prophetic office as a means of gain, and could
endanger the very souls of the people of Israel, for the sake of
the wages which Balak offered. He then proceeded to describe
the oppressed, enslaved, and pitiable condition of the ass; spoke
affectingly of the patience of the creature under burdens, and
spurs, and whippings, and abuses; said the ass usually endured
without complaining at the abuse heaped on him. Indeed, ex-
cept the one in the history of Balaam, there had never been an
instance of an ass speaking and expostulating under ill treatment.
He alluded to tho saddle, and described how galling it might
become, especially under the weight of a large, fat, heavy man.
At this point he cast a knowing look at the minister, a corpulent
person. Having gone through with an exposition of the subject,
he proceeded to the application. He said the idea might be new
to them—it had never struck him till the text was given him; but
he thought Balaam might be considered a type and representa-
tive of their minister. Balaam’s ass, in many respects, reminded
him of themselves, the congregation of that town; and the saddle
Asbury in New England. 427

 

bound on the poor ass, by cords and girts, evidently represented
the minister’s salary fastened on them by taxation. Its galling
and oppressive influence they had often felt; in some instances,
as he had been informed, the last and only cow of a poor man
with a large family had been taken and sold to pay for the salary
of the well-fed incumbent of the saddle.

After this specimen of his skill in extempore sermons, the
demand for the article from that quarter ceased.

He could tell where the preachers of the standing order abused
him most, by the size of his congregations; for, in spite of their
prejudices, the traditional curiosity of the people brought them
out to see and hear the much-abused “itinerant peddler” of per-
nicious dogmas. Abuse him they did, frequently, and warn the
people against being partakers of his “damnable heresies.” Now
and then a deacon superior to the rest opened his house for the
itinerant, for which, says Lee, he would be “ much buffeted.”

Such treatment could not damp the ardor of the evangelist.
Upon a chilling reception he exclaims: “I bless God that he keeps
my spirits up under all my discouragements! If the Lord did
not comfort me in hoping against hope, or believing against ap-
pearances, I should depart from the work in this part of the
world; but I still wait to see the salvation of the Lord.” :

Lee and his fellow-laborers extended their travels in many di-
rections, so that five circuits were mapped out on the Minutes in
the following year. Nearly two hundred souls had been united
in classes—a large number, if we consider the obstacles which
obstructed every movement of the few laborers in the field. Two
chapels had been begun and were in condition to be used. At
Conference (New York) Lee had a protracted interview with
Bishop Asbury, who not only promised him. more help but a
visit next summer. Accordingly, in 1791, we find him for the
first time on a tour through New England. On the 9th of June
he arrived at New Haven, the famous seat of learning, and his
appointment to preach having been published in the newspapers,
he had the honor of the President of Yale College, some of the
faculty and students, and a few prominent citizens, to hear him.
They all listened respectfully, but their coolness, as compared
with the warm hospitality to which he had been accustomed on
his episcopal journeys in the Middle and Southern States, led
him to make the following entry in his journal:
428 History of Methodism.

 

I talked away to them very fast. When I had done no man spoke to me. I
thought to-day of dear Mr. Whitefield’s words to Mr. Boardman and Mr. Pilmoor
at their first coming over to America: “Ah!” said he, “if ye were Calvinists, ye
would take the country before ye.” We visited the college chapel at the hour of
prayer; I wished to go through the whole, to inspect the interior arrangements,
but no one invited me. The divines were grave, and the students were attentive;
they used me like a fellow-Christian in coming to hear me preach, and like a
stranger in other respects. Should Cokesbury or Baltimore ever furnish the op-
portunity, I in my turn will requite their behavior by treating them as friends.
vrothers, and gentlemen. The difficulty I met with in New Haven for lodging
and for a place to hold meeting made me feel and know the worth of Methodists
moore than ever.”

The first conference in New England was held in Lynn, August,
1792. Hight preachers were present besides Asbury. Of course
Jesse Lee rejoices at the progress. Hope Hull has come up from
Georgia to help him.

Boston yielded at last. ‘Lee records the date: “ On the 18th day
of July, 1792, we joined a few in Society, and after a short time
they began to increase in numbers. We met with uncommon
difficulties here from the beginning, for the want of a convenient
house to preach in. We began in private houses, and could sel-
dom keep possession of them long. The Society then undertook
to get them a meeting-house, but being poor, and but few in num-
ber, they could do but little.” Three years later the corner-stone
of their first chapel was laid.

Having established Societies at Middletown and Hartford,
Boston and Lynn, and the surrounding country, Lee pushed next
his outposts over into the Province of Maine, then a part of Mas-
sachusetts, consisting chiefly of dense forests, with a narrow fringe
of settlements along the sea-coast and a few towns on the rivers in
the interior. Providing himself with two good horses, which he
tired out by turns, he explored this new country in all directions,
and organized a circuit west of the Kennebec River, which he
called Readfield, where the first conference in the Province of
Maine was held in 1798. In this distant field he had among his
hearers a rustic lad who was destined to be heard from in the
history and development of Methodism.

Joshua Soule was born in Bristol, Maine, August 1, 1781, the
fifth son of Joshua Soule, who was the eldest son of Joseph Soule,
a descendant of George Soule, one of the Pilgrim Fathers who
came over in the Mayflower. His father was captain of a mer-
First Circuit in Maine—Joshua Soule. 429

 

chant vessel, and would have continued in a sea-faring life but
for the loss of his vessels during the Revolutionary War. After
this he devoted himself to the pursuit of agriculture, remov-
ing to Avon, a new settlement on the Sandy River, while Joshua
was an infant in his mother’s arms. He remarked to a friend:
“They say I was born in the State of Maine; but I was a pre-
siding elder before Maine was erected into a State. I was born
in the State of Massachusetts—province, or district, of Maine.” *

His parents were rigid Calvinists. Joshua feared the Lord
from his youth. Among his playmates and school-fellows he
was called “the deacon.” He never knew when he could not
read. He read the Bible much, which kept alive those awaken-
ings of which he never knew the beginning. Jesse Lee, in 1793,
preached in his father’s neighborhood and formed the first cir-
cuit, in those parts, entending from Hallowell to Sandy River.
There being no meeting-house of the people called Methodists
then, a private House, about a mile and a half from the Soule
residence, was both the preacher’s home and chapel.

There Joshua attended, and heard Jesse Lee—the first Meth-
odist preacher he ever saw or heard—Thomas Cope, Philip Wag-
ger, and their successors, and found that he could assent to the
view of the gospel which they presented. His mind had re-
volted at Calvinism. The opposite doctrine and its experience
suited him “sentimentally.” He found it in his intuitions, drew
it from the Bible, and had met with it in books.

One morning, before sunrise, he awoke and as usual went out
to pray. For the first time, the witness of the Spirit was vouch-
safed tohim. Thesunroseonhisjoy. A new heaven and a new
earth smiled around. The peace that passeth all understanding
overflowed his soul.

He was minded to join the Church, and inclination and duty
drew him to the Methodists. As a dutiful son—in his sixteenth
year—he consulted his parents. His father was mortified, and
tried to dissuade him from ever going among those people
again. As for his mother, she wept sore and remonstrated, de-
claring that if he took that step she regarded her son as ruined
—she wished he had never heard of a Methodist.

Without acting hastily, he reviewed the matter, but abode in
the same conclusion. Duty seemed to be clear, though the way

= * Funeral-services in Christian Advocate (Nashville), March 14, 1867.

 
430 History of Methodism.

 

was painful. His own account is: “Before taking the final step,
I had my father and mother apart, and laid the whole matter be-
fore them. With much respect, and many tears, I told them my
convictions; and besides, requested them to name a single in-
stance in which I had ever disobeyed them. But now I felt it
my solemn duty to unite with the Methodist Church, and to gain
their consent and approval would afford me more happiness than
any thing else in the world.”

- His father’s mortification ‘grew toward indignation at the firm
proposal; and as for his mother, she pleaded with him in tears,
and used every entreaty to turn him aside. - “It cost me some-
thing,” he continued, “to be a Methodist—I became one fully ex-
pecting to be an exile from my father’s house. Twice in my life
have I been brought toa stand. Twice have my faith and resolu-
tion been put to the test—but I decided in both cases in the fear
~ of God, and with reference to my accountability at his bar.”

His heart was fixed and the step was taken, and contrary to
expectation his parents ceased to oppose him; but he went alone
to his meetings. Scarcely any thing was ever said about them.
He joined the Church at one of the week-day meetings, to the
joy and surprise of the neighbors.

One day, as the plow-teams were resting at a turning-place, his
father passing near him, Joshua said: “Father, a distinguished
man is to preach this afternoon. Will you go and hear him?”
The father answered: “No, I have heard one or two of them;
they are all alike—enthusiasts, and don’t know how to preach.”
The son replied with deference, “Does your law judge a man
before it hears him?” To which there was no answer. But
evidently the old Captain was put to thinking. He was a man
of decision, and had taught his children to be so too—but first,
to be right. The noon hour, the unhitching and feeding time,
came. After dinner, quite to Joshua’s surprise, his father or-
dered two horses to be saddled, and went with his Methodist
boy to the Methodist meeting.

Cyrus Stebbins, the preacher, excelled himself that day. Great
as were the issues pending, and the solicitude felt by one of his
hearers, at least, the preacher rose equal to the occasion. His
text was the vision of dry bones (Ezek. xxxvii. 10). The elder
Soule was all attention. There was power in the word. Preach-
ing over, and the congregation dismissed, Joshua asked his fa-
The Soule Family Become Methodists. 431

 

ther if he would allow him to introduce him to the minister. He
not only assented, but, to Joshua’s equal astonishment and de-
light, asked the preacher to go home with him; and the invita-
tion was accepted.

“Knowing my father’s prejudices,” he says, “I had my fears.
He was a thoughtful man, and had read much in theology, and
he considered the argument for Calvinism unanswerable. Al-
ready I saw a controversy in store; so I made it convenient to
drop behind as the company rode along, and have a word with
the preacher, putting him on his guard as to what was required
and expected of him.”

Supper over, the debate began in earnest, and Joshua was not
an inattentive listener. It was prolonged till one o’clock next
morning. He trembled for Stebbins once or twice, but the “ cir-
cuit rider,” well up in “ Fletcher’s Checks,” brought forth truth
unto victory. ‘“ With pleasure I saw my father hemmed in; he’
could go no farther. He was a candid man, and confessed him-
self foiled.”

Prayer had been offered evening and morning, and as the
preacher was taking leave, the solitary young Methodist could
hardly believe his own ears when he heard his father invite him
to make his house a stopping-place, and as it was larger than the
one where meetings had heretofore been held, to move the circuit-
preaching to hishouse! It was done. The notice was given, and
the next appointment was a crowded one. Stebbins again had
unction from on high and was equal to the occasion. All the
neighbors were there, among them two or three Baptist preach-
ers, and it was a day of the Son of man.

In less than six months after Joshua had joined the Method-
ists, his father and mother, and two older brothers, and two sis-
ters, were numbered with them. His father was an official mem-
ber till the day of his death.

So early did he begin to show qualities that made him a leader
among men, a veritable Joshua, a captain of the Lord’s host.

His call to preach was not attended by that conflict which
is so common. He believed in a call to the ministry, by the
Spirit. His account was brief: “The Lord called me to preach,
and I went.” June, 1799, he was admitted into the traveling
connection, and appointed to Portland Circuit, in Maine. In
1804 he was presiding elder of the district, which embraced the
432 History of Methodism.

 

whole territory of the present State. He filled this office two
years; and so successful was the Church during this period that
in 1806 a new district was formed called Kennebec. On this
district he was employed in 1806 and 1807. The succeeding four
years were spent on the Portland District.

This brings him into the broader field and service of the en-
tire Connection. He comes forward—a figure and an influence
not to be lost sight of for the next half century. No grander
man, or more exemplary Christian, or more useful bishop, has
appeared in Methodism. His majestic form and bearing, and
his finely chiseled features, with expression in every line, could
not fail to arrest attention and command deference from civilized
or savage men, who saw

The elements

So mixed in him that Nature might stand up
And say to all the world, “This is a man!”

Perhaps no one was ever more thoroughly attached to the
Wesleyan system of doctrine and discipline than Joshua Soule.
He loved Methodism because of its scriptural character, its ag-
gressive power, and its diffusive spirit. He loved its simple the-
ology, its sublime psalmody, its decent forms—for which, indeed,
he was somewhat of a stickler—and its elevated standard of ex-
perimental and practical piety. His own personal religious
character was formed upon it. And when he drew near his end,
he rejoiced in the belief that it was renewing its youth, and
going forth afresh like a strong man to run a race.

The history of American Methodism cannot be written, even
by unfriendly partisans, without making honorable mention of
his name, or leaving a wide gap that cannot be filled; for in ad-
dition to his power as a gospel preacher, he possessed the “ plain,
heroic magnitude of mind,’’ which shows its preéminence chiefly
in affairs. He died in Nashville, March 6, 1867. His junior
colleague, who closed his eyes, gives an account of the last hours
of this eventful life:

There were no transports; but quietness and assurance and tranquillity marked
the final hours. There were no fears, no gloomy uncertainties, no trepidations.
He knew in whom he had believed. He had committed the keeping of soul and
body to One who is faithful, and there he rested.

A little before midnight: “Bishop, is all clear before you?” Softly he an-
wwered, “Yes, yes” “Do you understand me, Bishop?” “TI do, sir.”
Joshua Soule—Wilbur Fisk—Elijah Hedding. 433

 

About one o’clock he seemed to be passing under the cloud and disappearing;
I said, “Is all right, still?” Then for the last time did he throw that peculiar
emphasis upon his words, “All right, sir; all right.”

At intervals we gave him water, which he swallowed with an appearance of
thirst. Soon after drinking it, about two o’clock, when his voice, though feeble,
was distinct, seeing him cross his hands on his breast, I asked, “Are you praying?”
He replied, “ Not now,” and never spake more.

I was surprised at these words; they were not what I expected, for I knew he
understood me and meant what he said. But as I looked on him lying there, and
thought on the words “not now,” they began to appear right, very right. His
work was done; the night had come when no man can work. The servant who
has loitered away the day begins to be very busy when the shadows lengthen.
There is such a thing as having nothing to do but to die. Woe to the man who
has his praying to do and his dying at the same time! He that believeth shall
not make haste. Not praying now; that was done with, and the time for praising
would soon set in. Like a ship, brave and stanch, that has weathered the storms
and buffeted the waves, the voyage is ended; it nears the land, the busy wheels
cease their revolutions, and under the headway and momentum already acquired,
it glides to the anchorage.

Vermont furnished a Methodist not so forceful in character,
or so lofty in leadership, as Joshua Soule, but of finer fiber and
gentler mold— Wilbur Fisk. Asa well-poised and well-rounded
man, great in all good directions, his superior has not been seen
in the pulpits and councils of the Church. Every soul, while in
the body, must be born and live in some section, and to that ex-.
tent is sectional; but Wilbur Fisk’s altitude and breadth enabled
him to see both sides of every question, and to take in both par
ties of every discussion, that concerned Methodism, in his day.
He lived for many years in the enjoyment of “perfect love;”
exemplifying a Wesleyan doctrine in experience, while with the
pen of Fletcher he fought the doctrinal battles with a new type
of Calvinism and Universalism which Lee had left for his learned
successors to finish up. More than any other man, he quickened
and shaped his Church in the direction of higher Christian edu-
cation; and if Asbury never enjoyed at Cokesbury his sweet and
lawful revenge on the New Haven professors, he might have had
it at Middletown, under Wilbur Fisk. He died in 1838; and it is
hard to realize that a man of feeble health should have dene such
a work and acquired such a just fame, living but forty-six years.

Hard work and poor pay was the rule of itinerant life in the
West; and the planting of Methodism in the East formed no ex-
ception. Take a page from the experience of Elijah Hedding

28
434 History of Methodism.

 

who though not a native New Englander became one by adop-
tion, the year Lee invaded that region. His awakening began
at an after-sermon class-meeting, old style, held by Benjamin
Abbott, under whose ministry his mother had been brought into
the Church. Having gone round the class, Abbott approached
the nine-year-old boy: “ Well, do you think you are a sinner?”
“Yes, sir.” Then with a pretty heavy emphasis the preacher
concluded: “There ’s many a boy in hell not as old as you are.”
This frightened him, and as Elijah Hedding testifies, “ produced
real religious concern, as I doubt not it was accompanied by the
operation of God’s Spirit?” At fifteen, being a good reader, he
read one of Wesley’s sermons, at the prayer-meetings. At
eighteen, during a religious meeting, he “received religious com-
fort,” and gave his name as a probationer; “not having a cleay
consciousness of his acceptance and conversion.” He adds:
“About six weeks after this, while conversing with a brother
about the witness of the Spirit, the light of the Spirit broke in
upon my mind as clear and perceptible as the sun when it comes
from behind a cloud, testifying that I was born of God; and it
was done at the time before named, when my guilt was removed
and I found peace in believing.” At nineteen, though only an
exhorter, he began his ministry by supplying a circuit which
Lorenzo Dow had left to go “ranging;” for among the fruits of
Lee’s ministry in Connecticut, was that unique character.

Elijah Hedding endured hardness the first ten years of his
circuit-riding. Reviewing these years he says:

I have averaged over three thousand miles’ travel a year, and preached, on an
average, a sermon a day, since I commenced the itinerant life. During that period
I have traveled circuits that joined each other, through a tract of country begin-
ning near Troy, New York, and going north into Canada; thence east through
Vermont and New Hampshire; and thence southerly, through Massachusetts
Rhode Island, and Connecticut, to Long Island Sound. I have never in this time
owned a traveling vehicle, but have ridden on horseback, except occasionally in
winter when I have borrowed a sleigh, and also in a few instances when I have
traveled ‘by public conveyance or in a borrowed carriage. I have both labored
hard and fared hard. Much of the time I have done missionary work witheat
missioniry money. Until recently I have had no dwelling-place or home, but as
a wayfaring man lodged from night to night where hospitality and friendship
opened the way. In most of these regions the Methodists were few and compar-
atively poor. I was often obliged to depend on poor people for food and lodging

and horse-keeping; and though in general they provided for me cheerfully and
wiliimglr, yet I often felt that I was taking what they needed for their children,
Growth in the Eust. 435

 

and that my horse was eating what they needed for their own beasts. I often suf-
fered great trials of mind on this account, and have traveled many a day without
dinner, because I had not a quarter of a dollar that I could spare to buy it.

His average pay was about forty-five dollars a year; and one
year he received, exclusive of traveling expenses, three dollars
and twenty-five cents! The first year he was on the New Hamp-
shire District (1807) he received four dollars and twenty-five
cents! He'says: “My pantaloons were often patched upen the
knees, and the sisters showed their kindness by turning an old
coat for me!” Authentic reports from the preachers of the New
England Conference, from 1800 to 1805, show that the annual
receipts of each of them did not average seventy dollars, includ-
ing all presents, and that the aggregate sum paid to all of them,
numbering about twenty-five, in each of these years, was less
than the amount now received by one minister stationed in some
of the Methodist churches in cities, where Jesse Lee effected a
grudging entrance, as a man drives a wedge into a hard log.*

In June, 1810, the Rev. Henry Boehm, accompanying the Bish-
op, attended a session of the New England Conference:

There was a camp-meeting held in connection with it, about three miles distant,
and they had preaching there three times « day during its session. On Sunday,
the 10th, Bishop Asbury preached with life and energy; after which six deacons
and twelve elders were ordained. There were about fifteen hundred persons pres-
ent. Six sermons were preached that day.

On Monday morning, after the bishops, Asbury and McKendree, had delivered
their valedictory addresses, which were distinguished for appropriateness and pa-
thos, Bishop Asbury read off the appointments for eighty-seven preachers, who al]
went cheerfully to their work in the spirit of their Master.

On the 16th, Bishop Asbury, George Pickering, and myself went to Boston, and
were the guests of Elijah Sabin, the stationed preacher. The new chapel was
greatly in debt, and Brother Pickering had been South soliciting funds; and yet
such were the pressing wants of the Church that Bishop Asbury wrote five letters
supplicating a collection for the new chapel—namely, to Baltimore, Georgetown,
Alexandria, Norfolk, and Charleston; and I believe they all responded.

In 1882 the presiding elder of the New Haven District wrote
thatits territory was then almost entirely included in Lee’s ‘second
circuit, organized in 1789 and compassed by the itinerant every
two weeks. It contained fifteen circuits and stations, employed
thirty-four traveling preachers, had between thirty and forty
local preachers, six thousand members, and fifty chapels.t

*American Methodism, by Rev. M. L. Scudder, D.D. + Letter of Rev Heman
Bangs, quoted in Stevens’s History of the M. E. Church.
436 History of Methodism.

 

Having spent eight years in New England, he takes a wider field.
The Minutes for 1797, 1798, and 1799 say: “Jesse Lee, travels with
Bishop Asbury.” This brought him, in the Bishop’s absence on
account of sickness, to preside in the Conference of 1797, at Wil-
braham. He loved to visit it. In 1808 he found six districts,
presided over by such men as John Broadhead, Elijah R. Sabin
Thomas Branch, Elijah Hedding, Joshua Soule, and Oliver Beale
He also found eight thousand eight hundred and sixty-one mem.
bers. Martin Ruter was stationed at Boston with over three
hundred and forty members, all of whom received him as their
father. He passed on to Lynn, to be greeted by Dan Young, the
pastor, and one hundred and seventy members. <A crowd at-
tended him everywhere, so that the churches could not accom-
modate them. He spent forty-three days in Maine, and preached
forty-seven sermons. Hurrying to New Hampshire, he preached
seven farewell sermons in less than a week, and about the same
number in less time in Connecticut.

Though so unwelcome, Methodism was nowhere more needed
than in New England. The reaction from high Calvinism to
Unitarianism and Rationalism was going on at its advent, and
the evil was modified by its influence. Effete and dead forms of
worship received an infusion of new life. Into a region of great
mental activity an element entered restraining and sanctifying,
which, though not acknowledged by the self-satisfied philoso-
phers, has nevertheless been felt. A party, not small in numbers
or influence, had arisen, contending that if a man were educated
for it the lack of conversion was no bar to his entrance upon
the ministry. Whitefield numbered over twenty ministers con-
verted under his preaching. If sharp assailants of the faith
have issued from New England, so have strong defenders.

In 1809 Lee was chosen chaplain to Congress, an office which
he held until 1815, and then resigned. His death occurred in
September, 1816, at the age of fifty-eight; and his grave, in
Mount Olivet Cemetery, Baltimore, was honored with an elegant
shaft of Scotch granite, erected by the second generation of his
spiritual children in Boston.

[The materials for this Chapter are furnished by the Histories of Jesse Lee, Bangs, Stevens,
Porter, Daniela, Scudder; The Life and Times of Jesse Lee, by L. M. Lee, D.D.; and Asbury’s
Journal.)
CHAPTER XXXI.

The Valley of th 2 Mississippi: Occupying it—Gate-way to the North-west and the
South-west—Indian Troubles—Asbury Crossing the Wilderness—Bethel Acad-
emy --Kentucky—Tennessee—Three Local Preachers Shaping Ohio—Mission-
aries—-McHenry, Burke, Wilkerson, Page, Tobias Gibson, Valentine Cook.

r T\HE occupancy of the Valley of the Mississippi by the gos-

pel was the great problem for the American Church. The
wavo of revival that rolled back from the West to the East, at
the close of the last century, was evidence of the extent of the
movement and of the divine forces at work there.

Besides the vices naturally engendered in the rapid settlement
of a new country, where the hope of wealth is excited ‘by rich
lands, and the revengeful passions are stirred by a sense of dan-
ger from a lingering but weakening foe, the West had to encoun-
ter the peril of a bold infidelity. The French Revolution was
popular. The American people remembered France as their late
ally, and regarded her as a sister republic contending for freedom
against banded despots. ‘The terrible energy which the French
Republic displayed against such fearful odds, the haughty crest
with which she confronted her enemies, and repelled them from
her frontier at every point, presented a spectacle well calculated
to dazzle the friends of democracy throughout the world.”
France had embraced infidelity. The Bible there had been re-
pudiated, and death declared to be “an eternal sleep;” and athe-
ism wis openly professed among all classes of society. The moral
effect of all this was felt in the hunting-camps and in the log-cabins
of Kentucky and Tennessee. The writings of Paine, Voltaire,
and such like, intended to sap the foundations of Christianity,
were sown broadcast through the land. Not only did their sen-
limeats find favor with the masses of the people, but many, hold-
ing high positions of public trust, and belonging to the more
influential walks of life, imbibed these doctrines, and openly
avowed their disbelief in the word of God.

While the leaven of infidelity was working, the testimony ot
a competent witness, who was reared amid the vigorous scenes
of this Western life, shows, why Methodism had a special call to
counteract it: “To add to the darkness of the moral horizon.

2C (487)
438 History of Methodism.

 

most of the Churches had sunk into mere formality, so that the
doctrine of the new birth—implying that radical change of
heart which brings with it the evidence of pardon and adoption
—was quite ignored or totally repudiated. The dogmas of elec-
tion and reprobation, predestination and decrees, were the themes
of the pulpit; and they rather confirmed than weakened the
popular disposition to reject revelation. The masses considered
such doctrines a slander upon God’s justice, as well as upon his
goodness, and concluded that if the Bible afforded such views of
Jehovah it could not be true.” *

Francis Clark, a local preacher, was the pioneer of Methodism
in Kentucky. As early as 1783, accompanied by John Durham,
a vlass-leader, and others of his neighbors, he left Virginia, and
settled in Mercer county, and organized a class, the first in the
far West, about six miles from Danville. “He was a man,” says
a chronicler of the time, “of sound judgment, and well instructed
in the doctrines of the Church. Asa preacher he was successful
in forming several societies, and lived many years to rejoice in
the success of the cause that he had been the instrument, under
God, of commencing in the wilderness. He died at his own home,
the last year of the century, in great peace, and in hope of a
blessed immortality.” William J. Thompson also emigrated at
an early day from North Carolina, and settled in the same neigh-
borhood. A useful local preacher, he afterward joined the trav-
eling connection in the Western Conference; and moving to the
State of Ohio, became connected with the Ohio Conference,
where his labors and usefulness are held in remembrance by
many. Other local preachers and faithful laymen came and set-
tled in Jessamine and Fayette and Nelson counties.

The first itinerants sent out in 1786, Haw and Ogden, were re-
enforced by transfers as needed. Peter Massie was converted and
brought into the ministry by the missionaries. He was styled
“the weeping prophet.” One who knew him well, says: “I heard
him preach the gospel frequently, and I do not think I ever heard
him but when tears rolled down his manly cheeks, while he warned
the people to flee from the wrath to come.” ,

In 1787 Kentucky District was divided into two circuits, one
of which still bore the name of Kentucky. James Haw was re-

 

*Rev. Jonathan Stamper, in Home Circle, Vol. I. + Redford’s History of
Methodism in Kentucky.
Baptists and Presbyterians First in Kentucky. 439

 

turned as elder. Thomas Williamson and Wilson Lee were ap-
pointed to one circuit; the other was called Cumberland, to
which Benjamin Ogden was appointed. The Cumberland Circuit
embraced the country now known as Middle Tennessee, and a
small portion of Southern Kentucky. The Kentucky Circuit in-
cluded the whole of the District of Kentucky, except that part
eubraced in the Cumberland. Francis Poythress, in 1788, su-
pers3ded Haw, and was henceforth in charge of the district until
his overworked body and mind gave way.

The hard Church laws of Virginia had massed the Baptists
and Presbyterians west of the Blue Ridge, where they were com-
paratively free from exactions and persecutions. They were
ready to pour over into Kentucky, so soon as that fertile territory
was opened, and to occupy it. Rev. David Rice immigrated to
Kentucky from Virginia in 1783, and settled in Mercer county.
Previous to this date small bodies of Presbyterians had settled
in the neighborhoods of Danville and Cane Run, and in 1786
the Presbytery of Transylvania was organized.

As early as 1776 the Rev. William Hickman came from Vir-
ginia on a tour of observation, and devoted much of his time to
preaching the gospel. He was perhaps the first preacher of any
lenomination to lift the standard of the cross on “the dark and
vloody ground.” Other Baptist ministers soon followed him, and
the Baptist Church was organized in 1781, near Lancaster. One
of the first governors of the State was a Baptist minister—Garrard.

In the spring of 1790, Bishop Asbury extended his travels to
Kentucky, when, for the first time, an Annual Conference was
held there. He was accompanied by Richard Whatcoat and Hope
Hull. The Conference commenced 15th of May, at Mas-
terson’s Station, five miles north-west of Lexington, where the
first Methodist church in Kentucky—a plain log structure—was
eracted. Two years before, Asbury had crossed the mountains
to meet a Conference in the Holston Valley; now, he must cross
a wilderness beyond that. The first trip involved labor and
fatigue; the last, these and more. April 6th, he says: “TI received
a faithful letter from Brother Poythress in Kentucky, encourag-
ing me to come. Now it is we must prepare for danger in go-
ing through the wilderness.” Resting at General Russell’s, and
recruiting; preaching in the Nollichucky and Clinch and Holston
valleys, which seem now to become a starting-point, he waits for
44() _ History of Methodism.

 

an escort that is to guide and protect evangelists on the journey:
“May 3.—Sabbath night I dreamed the guard from Kentucky
caine for me; and mentioned it to Brother Whatcoat. Inthe morn-
ing I retired to a small stream for meditation and prayer, and whilst
there saw two men come over the hills; I felt a presumption that
they were Kentucky men, and so they proved to be; they were
Peter Massie and John Clark, who were coming for me, with the
intelligence that they had left eight men below; after reading the
letters, and asking counsel of God, I consented to go with them.”

‘The company, mustering sixteen men with thirteen guns,
“ moved on very swiftly, considering the roughness of the way.”
On the seventh day of their journey, they reached Richmond,
the county-seat of Madison county, and three days afterward,
Lexington. The Bishop says: “I was strangely outdone for
want of sleep, having been greatly deprived of it in my journey
through the wilderness—which is like being at sea in some re-
spects, and in others worse. Our way is over mountains, steep
nills, deep rivers, and muddy creeks—a thick growth of reeds
for miles together, and no inhabitants but wild beasts and savage
men. I slept about an hour the first night, and about two the
last. We ate no regular meals; our bread grew short, and I was
much spent.”

On. the road-side they saw the graves of twenty-four travelers
who, a short time before, had been massacred by the Indians.
We quote from the Bishop’s journal:

May 13.—Being court time, I preached in a dwelling-house at Lexington, and
not without some feeling. The Methodists do but little here—others lead the way.
Our Conference was held at Brother Masterson’s, a very comfortable house, and
kind people. We went through our business in great love and harmony. I or-
dained Wilson Lee, Thomas Williamson, and Barnabas McHenry, elders. We
had preaching noon and night, and souls were converted, and the fallen restored.

‘My soul has been blessed among these people, and I am exceedingly pleased with
them. I would not, for the worth of all the place, have been prevented in this
visit, having no doubt but that it will be for the good of the present and rising
generation. It is true, such exertions of mind and body are trying; but I am sup-
ported under it—if souls are saved, itisenough. Brother Poythress is much alive
to Grd. We fixed a plan for a school, and called it Bethel; and obtained a sub-
scription of upward of £300, in land and money, toward its establishment.

A new name is here introduced, and one identified with West-
ern Methodism. Referring to the early ministers who opened
and subdued the.wilderness, the late Bishop Bascom said: “They
Bascom on Barnabas McHenry. 44)

 

labored, suffered, triumphed, in obscurity and want. No admir-
ing populace to cheer them on; no feverish community gazetted
them into fame. Principle alone sustained them, and their glory
was that of action.” In his commanding personal appearance
and influence, in the order of his talents, and the grace and pow-
er that accompanied his ministry, Barnabas McHenry was emi-
nent. He was born in North Carolina, 1767. In the twentieth
year of his age he entered on his itinerant career. Ilis first
appointment was to the Yadkin Circuit. He spent the following
year in Kentucky, and after efficient, self-denying toil, on circuits
and districts, died of cholera in 1833. The venerable Jacob
Young’s autobiography, describing an occasion, says: “The most
distinguished man I met was B. McHenry. He was a man by
himself.” Dr. Bascom published a monograph of this man who
did much to stimulate and direct his own mind. He describes
his preaching as mainly expository and didactic:

The whole style of his preaching denoted the confidence of history and expe-
rience. All seemed to be real and personal to him. The perfect simplicity, and
yet clear, discriminating accuracy of his manner and language made the impres-
sion that he was speaking only of what he knew to be true. He spoke of every
thing as of a natural scene before him. There was an intensity of conception, a
sustained sentiment of personal interest, which gave one a feeling of wonder and
awe in listening to him. You could not doubt his right to guide and teach. One
felt how safe and proper it was to follow such leading. His style was exceedingly
rich without being showy. There was no effervescence. It was not the garden
and landscape in bloom, but in early bud, giving quiet but sure indication of fruit
and foliage. His language was always accurate, well chosen, strong, and clear.
All his sermons, as delivered, were in this respect fit for the press—not only re-
markably free from error on the score of thought, but from defect and fault of style
and language. His whole manner, too, was natural, dignified, and becoming
Good taste and sound judgment were his main mental characteristics. Of imagi-
nation proper he had but little, and still less of fancy. Reason, fitness, and beauty
were the perceptions by which he was influenced. The intrinsic value of things
alone. attracted him. The outward show of things made little or no impression
upon hira, under any circumstances. The inner man—the hidden things of the
wear. —controlled him in all his judgments and preferences.*

In the bend of Kentucky River, Mr. Lewis, an old Leesburg
acquaintance, welcomed the Bishop, and offered one hundred
acres of land for the site of Bethel College.

“Had a noble shout at Brown’s—four souls converted,” says
his journal. “Reached the Crab Orchard, and lodged under a

 

* Editorial in the Southern Methodist Quarterly Review, Vol. IIL
442 History of Methodism.

 

tree” preparatory to recrossing the wilderness; “had about fifty
people in the company—twenty were armed, and five might have
stood fire.’ They make for Cumberland Gap:

To preserve order and harmony, we had articles drawn up for and signed by
our company and I arranged the people for traveling according to the regulations
agreed upon. The first night we lodged some miles beyond the Hazelpatch. The
next day we discovered signs of Indians, and some thought they heard voices; we
therefore thought it best to travel on, and did not encamp until three o’clock, halt-
ing on the east side of Cumberland River. We had an alarm, but it turned out to
be a false alarm. Brother Massie was captain; and finding I had gained author-
ity among the people, I acted somewhat in the capacity of an adjutant and quar-
termaster amongst them. At the foot of the mountain the company separated;
the greater part went on with me to Powell’s River.

May 28-30 were spent at General Russell’s, “whose wife is
converted since I left the house last. I thought then,” he adds,
“that she was not far from the kingdom of God.”

The last day of the month, passing through New River Circuit,
Asbury gets a last view of that noble itinerant who has in four-
teen years preached the gospel in eight out of thirteen States—
John Tunnell. He is dying of consumption; “a mere shadow,
but very humble and patient under his affliction.” “June 1—I
rode about forty-five miles to Armstrong’s, and next day about
four o’clock reached McKnight’s on the Yadkin River, in North
Carolina; here the Conference had been waiting for me nearly
two weeks; we rejoiced together, and my brethren received me
as one brought from the jaws of death.”

Let us leave the field on the Atlantic slope, now everywhere
being cultivated or laid off for cultivation, and return to the Ken-
tucky District-—-destined to be the distributing point of labor-
ers for the North-west and the South-west.

Mountain ranges did not determine the course and order of the
westward movement, but Indian tribes. The Church has been
planted in Georgia, and the Mississippi Territory forms the west-
ern boundary of Georgia; but the gospel will be carried to Mis-
sissippi first by way of Tennessee and down the great river; be-
cause the Creek or Muskogee Indians lie on the direct route be-
low, and the Choctaws and Cherokees above. The North-western
Territory will be approached by way of Kentucky, because the
Miami and Shawnee Indians and confederate tribes north of the
Ohio hold the country down to the river bank, and make the
water passage dangerous. Though surrounded on three sides by
Memorable Indian Troubles. 443

 

Indian tribes, Kentucky was never claimed or occupied by any
tribe. It was a common hunting-ground, and on account of
frequent hostile collisions was called the “Dark and Bloody
Ground.” Warlike incursions were often made across the front-
iers; and through the intervening wilderness roving bands of
Indians for a long time kept a path of communication between
the tribes on the lower Holston and Tennessee rivers, and those
dwelling on the Scioto and Miami. This path had to be crossed
with more or less peril in going from the Hast to Kentucky.
There were smaller campaigns, but in 1791 General St. Clair left
Fort Washington, as the military post was called where Cincinnati
now is, with an army of two thousand volunteers to subdue and
break up the Miami Confederacy. A hundred miles north of his
starting-point, while encamped on a tributary of the Wabash, he
was surprised by the Indians, under their chief—Little Turtle—
and after three hours desperate fighting half of his army was
killed and the remnant barely escaped massacre. This terrible
disaster threw a gloom over the whole West, and indeed over the
entire country. President Washington, when the dispatches
reached him, lost his usual equanimity and exclaimed: “Here,
in this very room, I took leave of General St. Clair, wishing him
success and honor! I said to him: ‘You have careful instruc-
tions from the Secretary of War, and I myself will add one word,
Beware of a surprise. You know how the Indians fight—beware
of a surprise. He went off with that, my last warning, ringing
in his ears; and yet he has suffered that army to be butchered,
tomahawked, by asurprise. How can he answer to his country?”
In 1794 General Wayne, called “Mad Anthony,” after ineffect-
ual efforts for peace, led an army of three thousand into the same
field, and defeated the Miamis, and broke up their confederacy;
obtained a cession from the chiefs of the present State of Ohio;
pressed them back into the vast Indiana Territory, with Vin-
cennes as Government head-quarters, and exacted other terms
that gave a general peace. At a later date, General Jackson
broke the power of the hostile Indian tribes in the South.
Thenceforth, under the protection of treaties and agencies, em1-
grants passed through the land, not always without danger: and
where the emigrant went, the itinerant preacher followed. _
Virginia having relinquished her claim to its territory, Ken-
tucky was admitted into the Union as a State in 1792, with
£44 History of Methodism.

 

seventy-three thousand inhabitants. North Carolina having re-
linquished her claim to its territory, Tennessee was admitted in
1796; six years before, the population was thirty-five thousand,
but it was soon doubled.

Now the movement to the North-west began. Notwithstand.
ing the additions during several years by revivals and immigra-
tions, the Kentucky District, though served by an able and faith-
ful ministry, hardly held its own. In some places, societies were
entirely broken up, and in others, only portions were left, by re-
movals from the State. Large bodies of Methodists from Ken-
tucky settled in what is now the State of Ohio, in the Mad River
country, and on the Big and Little Miamis; so that, notwith-
standing the success that crowned the labors of the preachers, in
their annual exhibits they often showed a decrease of member-
ship in their fields of labor.

The names of Henry Birchett, David Haggard, Samuel Tuck-
er, and Joseph Lillard, appear on the roll in this department of
the work, for the first time, among the appointments made by
Bishop Asbury on his present visit to the Kentucky District.* Jo-
seph Lillard was a Kentuckian by birth; born near Harrodsburg.

 

*Francis Poythress, Elder; Danville—Thomas Williamson, Stephen Brooks;
Cumberland—Wilson Lee, James Haw, Peter Massie; Madison—Barnabas Mc-
Henry, Benjamin Snelling; Limestone—Samuel Tucker, Joseph Lillard; Lexing-
ton—Henry Birchett, David Haggard.

Cumberland Circuit lay chiefly in Tennessee. It extended, however, into Ken-
tucky, and embraced, besides Middle Tennessee, what is now known as Logan, Wo~
ren, and Simpson counties. B. McHenry, who preached in it next year (1791), says:
“The circuit was a four-weeks’ circuit. Clarksville, near the mouth of Red River,
was the lower extremity of the circuit, and of the settlement. Sumner Court-
house was a cabin near Station Camp Creek. The upper end of the circuit was
the castern extremity of the settlement near Bledsoe’s Lick. The population for
some miles down consisted of a narrow string between the river and the ridge.
Indeed, there was then no population on the south side of Cumberland River, Nash-
ville and a very small part of the adjacent country excepted. There were fou
regular preaching-places on that side of the river. In the course of that year two
class-leaders belonging to the circuit were killed. In some places the preachers
could not retire to the woods or fields for the purpose of reading, meditation, and
prayer, without probable danger of being shot or tomahawked. This was the
more sensibly felt, as the houses in such places afforded little or no convenience
for retirement. Our advantages consisted principally in peace and love. My
helper on Cumberland Circuit, Brother O’Cull, labored with great zeal till some
time in the fall of 1791, when he broke himself down so entirely that he never
recovered.”
Samuel Tucker-—His Tragic End. 445

 

He was sent to the Limestone Circuit (Maysville), with Samuel
Tucker. He traveled his second year on the Salt River Circuit,
after which his name disappears from the Minutes, and he settled
not far from the place of his birth, where he lived to a good age.
In his local relation, by the sanctity of his life and by his devo-
tion to the Church, Lillard was very useful. In his home the
itinerant found a welcome, and his liberality contributed to the
promotion of the cause. Samuel Tucker, his colleague, was, like
Lillard, a new recruit. He reached the circuit only in time tc
finda grave. The parents of the late Edward Stevenson, D.D.-—
converts of Strawbridge—had floated down the Ohio River with .
a company of emigrants in time to welcome the first missionaries
who came to Mason county, Kentucky. He describes the tragic
fate of Samuel Tucker:

Widely different, however, was the fate of the next lot of boats that attempted the
same dangerous passage. A little below the mouth of the Scioto, they were attacked
by the Indians, in great numbers, from both sides of the river, as well as from
their bark canoes in the stream itself. Two of the boats were soon overpowered,
and an indiscriminate slaughter of men, women, and children ensued. The third
and only remaining boat of the company was closely pursued for several hours,
The most of the men were either killed or wounded, and the remaining force was
not sufficient to manage the oars and successfully resist a direct assault from thei:
blood-thirsty pursuers. The women came to the rescue from their places of pro-
tection. Some took the oars and others reloaded the guns, leaving the few fight-
ing men who had been preserved from the balls of the enemy nothing to do but
to watch the movements of the insidious foe and fire to the best advantage. The
Indians at. length began to haul off: the fire from the boat had become too con
stant and well-directed; and soon the last warlike craft disappeared on the distant
waters, and the bullet-riven boat was left to float on without further molestation
Early the next day they landed at the “Point” [Maysville]. My father was
among the first on board. The scene was inexpressibly horrible. The living, as
well as the dead and dying, were literally covered with blood. Among the latter
was Samuel Tucker. He had received a wound in his chest soon after the com-
mencement of the attack; but, nothing daunted by the near and certain approach
of death, he continued to fight on—loading and firing his own long rifle, until his
fading vision shut out the enemy from his sight. He breathed his last, in submis-
sion to the Divine will, soon after the boat reached the landing, and was buried
by my father and others amid the lofty forest-trees that then overhung, in prim-
itive grandeur and sublimity, the beautiful bottom where now the tide of business
and commerce rolls on unmindful of the past. The place of his interment is kncwn
to none now living.*

Among the preachers admitted on trial with Wm. McKendree,
Virginia, in 1788, were Henry Birchett, Aquila Sugg, Valentine

 

*Ttinerant Sketches in Christian Advocate (Nashville), Oct. 9. 1856.
446 History of Methodism.

 

Cook, and John McGee; all of whom, like himself, were in after
years laborers in the West. Henry Bircheit, after a few years on
the Western frontiers, died in the work. The remains of this god-
ly man, who fell in 1794, repose in an old grave-yard about three
miles below Nashville. Some kind hand erected a simple tomb-
stone, and inscribed it with his initials. His biography says of
him—and it is among the earliest found in the Minutes: “He was
a gracious, happy, useful man, who freely offered himself for four
years’ service on the dangerous stations of Kentucky and Cum-
berland. He was one among the worthies who freely left ease,
. safety, and prosperity, to seek after and suffer faithfully for
souls. His meekness, love, labors, prayers, tears, sermons, and
exhortations will not be soon forgotten.” *

Peter Massie’s race was soonrun. “A feeling, pathetic preach-
er; a good singer; and remarkable for his zeal,” is the testi-
mony of the veterans who survived him. Though stationed in
Kentucky, he died in the bounds of the Cumberland Circuit, on
which he traveled the previous year. On the 18th of December,
1791, he reached the house of Mr. Hodges, four miles west of
Nashville. The family was in the fort for protection. The only
person at the cabin, besides Mr. Hodges—who was sick—was a
neyro named Simeon, who had that evening escaped from the In-
dians. Simeon had become acquainted with the preacher the past
year, and had been converted through his instrumentality. Massie
was “an afflicted man,” and on reaching the house of his friend, he
complained of indisposition. Next morning in conversation it was
said “that he would soon be well enough to travel, if he recov-
ered so fast.” To which he replied, “If I am not well enough
to travel, I am happy enough to die.”+ These were his last
words. In a few moments he fell from his seat, and suddenly
expired. Nearly a half century later the Tennessee Conference
appointed a committee to seek for his grave, no stone having
murked it. The committee searched in vain. The grave was
never found, but the grave-digger was:

After an ineffectual search for years, the hope of success was abandoned. Sev-
en years later, the Rev. Thomas L. Douglass was preaching near Nashville, and
in the close of his sermon referred with much feeling to the hope of meeting in

heaven with Asbury, McKendree, and others who had passed over the flood. In
the congregation sat an aged African, with tears coursing down his cheeks. He

 

* Life and Times of Wm. McKendree, by Paine. } Rev. Learner Black™an’s unpublishes
manuscriy ; quoted by Redford in History of Methodism in Kentucky.
Peter Massie and “Father Simeon.” 447

 

too was deeply moved, and thinking of another, exclaimed, in a clear voice, “Yes,
and Brother Massie!” and then, continuing his soliloquy, he added: “ Yes, Sime-
on, with these hands, with no one to help, you dug his grave, and laid him away -
in the ground; but you will see him again, for he lives in heaven!” A member
of the Tennessee Conference* sat just in front of old Simeon, and heard what he
said. After the services he took him aside, and inquired what he knew of the
burial of Peter Massie. He replied that he was at Mr. Hodges’s at the death of
Mr. Massie; that Mr. Hodges himself was unable to assist in his bnrial; and that
he had no plank of which to make a coffin; that he cut down an ash-tree 1nd split
it into slabs, and placed them in the grave which he had dug, and after depuriting
the body, placed a slab over it, and then filled the grave with earth. He believed
he could find the spot where the remains of Massie lay, but he could not. When
he buried him the whole country was a wilderness, but at the time he made the
search for his grave civilization had changed its entire appearance.

Simeon was a native African, and stated to the late Bishop Paine that he be-
longed to the nobility of that country. When only a child he was brought to the
United States. Under the preaching of Peter Massie, in 1790, he had been
awakened and converted. For more than fifty years he lifted the standard of the
cross among the colored people of Tennessee, and exerted an influence that was
felt-far and near. With the people of his own color he enjoyed a popularity that
belonged to no other man in the community, and over them he exercised an au-
thority for good. The purity of his life so won upon the affections and confidence
of his master that in early manhood he emancipated him and gave him a small
farm near Nashville, which was voluntarily returned in his last will and testa-
ment. The concern that he felt for the African race was not confined to those
around him, but his sympathy extended to his countrymen in their native land.

In 1823 he called on Bishop McKendree, and presented to him, in forcible
language, the wants and condition of his people in Africa, and urged the appoint-
ment of a missionary to that benighted land. The Bishop became deeply inter-
ested in the scheme, and decided to comply with his wishes. The Rev. Robert
(since Bishop) Paine was then stationed at Franklin and Lebanon. He offered
himself for the worl-, making only one condition—that Simeon should accompany
him. To this Simeon readily consented; but the arrangement was defeated by
the remonstrance of the Church against the removal of their preacher.t

In his personal appearance he was superior to all his race around him. Al-
though a full-blooded African, his face would have commanded attention any-
where. With a high and well-formed forehead; with penetrating, searching
eyes; with a countenance full of the expression of benevolence; and with a mind
far above ordinary, he would have commanded respect in any community. Added
to these a life unblemished by vice, developing every day the practical duties and
virtues of Christianity, it is no wonder that he enjoyed the confidence of thare
among whom he lived.

Tn 1847, after a long and useful life, he was called from “labor to reward.”
While dying, a member of the Church was kneeling beside him, who said to him.
“Father Simeon, what hope have you beyond the grave?” With his eyes swim-
ming in death, he raised his right-hand, “Up, up, up!” He spoke no more.

 

*Rev. A. L. P. Green, D.D.; quoted in Redford’s History. I have these facts from Bisher
?aine.—Redford’s History.
448 History of Methodism.

 

Bishop Asbury’s second visit to Kentucky (1792) was with
“guards,” McHenry and Burke probably leading them:

April 4—This morning we swam the [upper Cumberland] river, and also the
West Fork thereof. My little horse was ready to fail in the course of the day. I
was steeped in the water up to the waist. About seven o’clock, with hard push-
ing, we reached the Crab Orchard. How much I have suffered in this journey is
only known to God and myself. What added much to its disagreeableness, I was
seized with a severe flux, which followed me eight days: for some time I kept up,
but at last found myself under the necessity of taking to my bed.

April 10.—I endured as severe pain as perhaps I ever felt. I made use of
small portions of rhubarb, and also obtained some good claret, of which I drank
a bottle in three days, and was almost well, so that on Sunday following I
preached a sermon an hour long. In the course of my affliction I have felt my-
self very low. I have had serious views of eternity, and was free from the fear of
death.

April 23.—I rode to Bethel. I found it necessary to change the plan of the
house, to make it more comfortable to the scholars in cold weather. I am too
much in company, and hear so much about Indians, convention, treaty, killing,
and scalping, that my attention is drawn more to these things than I could wish.
I found it good to get alone in the woods and converse with God.

Bethel was a place for holding Conference, and for awhile
there was hope of it as an educational center. The order of
history may be anticipated a little concerning Bethel. It was
located on a high bluff in a bend of Kentucky River, Jessamine
county. Wm. Burke gives this account of it at a later day:

The design was to accommodate the students in the house with boarding, ete.
The first and second stories were principally finished, and a spacious hall in the
center. The building of this house rendered the pecuniary means of the preach-
ers very uncertain, for they were continually employed in begging for Bethel.
The people were very liberal, but they could not do more than they did. The
country was new, and the unsettled state of the people, in consequence of the In-
dian wars and depredations, kept the country in a continual state of agitation.
The Legislature at an early period made a donation of six thousand acres of land
to Bethel Academy. The land was Jocated in Christian county, south of Green
River, and remained a long time unproductive, and while I continued a trustee,
till 1804, it was rather a bill of expense than otherwise. In 1803 I was appoint-
ed by the Western Conference to attend the Legislature and obtain:an act of in-
corporation. I performed that duty, and Bethel was incorporated, with all the
powers and privileges of a literary institution. The Rev. Valentine Cook was the
first that organized the academical department, and at first the prospect was flat-
tering. A number of students were in attendance; but difficulties occurred which
it would be needless to mention, as all the parties concerned have gone to give an
account at a higher tribunal.

Valentine Cook was educated at Cokesbury. He did memo-
rable service in Virginia and Western Pennsylvania, both as a
Asbury at Bethel Academy. 449

 

preacher and polemic—rather eccentric in manner, mighty in the
Scriptures, and of more learning than any of his ministerial as-
sociates. He labored extensively and very successfully in plant-
ing Methodism in the West. His memory is a sweet savor
throughout the wide region of his labors.

A capital mistake about this second Cokesbury—often repeat-
ed since—was its location. The attempt to get away from temp.
tation took the projectors into the woods. The hermit ideal is as
impracticable for schools as for persons. And they were he-
trayed into the fatal location by an act of apparent liberality.
The holders of real estate see their interest in offering induce-
ments for the location of an institution, while a whole Church
works to sustain an uphill business and—to raise the price of lots.
Some gifts are very costly, in the long run. Eight years after
this, Bishop Asbury made a fourth visit to Kentucky:

Oct. 4.—I was so dejected I could do little but weep. Sabbath-day it rained,
and I kept at home. Here is Bethel: Cokesbury in miniature; eighty by thirty
feet, three stories, with a high roof, and finished below. Now we want a fund
and an income of three hundred per year to carry it on, without which it will be
useless. But it is too distant from public places. Its being surrounded by the
Kentucky River, in part, we now find to be no benefit. Thus all our excellences
are turned into defects. Perhaps Brother Poythress and myself were as much
overseen with this place as Dr. Coke was with the seat of Cokesbury. Bui all is
right that works right, and all is wrong that works wrong; and we must be blamed
by men of slender sense for consequences impossible to foresee—for other people’s
misconduct. Monday and Tuesday we were shut up in Bethel with the travel-
ing and local ministry, and the trustees that could be called together. We or.
dained fourteen or fifteen local and traveling deacons. It was thought expedient
to carry the first design of education into execution, and that we should employ
a man of sterling qualifications, to be chosen by and under the direction of a se-
lect number of trustees and others, who should obligate themselves to see him
paid, and take the profits, if any, arising from the establishment. Dr. [Samuel K.]
Jennings was thought of, talked of, and written to.

The site of Bethel can barely be identified; not one stone is
teft upon another where Asbury wept over disappointment and
failure. This second visitation completed, he returns to the Hol-
ston Valley, and thence to the East, through the inevitable wilder-
ness. Leaving Crab Orchard, tne company. make for Cumber-
land Gap: “thirty-six good travelers, and a few warriors.”

The first night out the Bishop notes: “I stretched myself on
the ground, and borrowing clothes to keep me warm, by the mer-
ey of God I slept four or five hours. Next morning we set off

29
450 History of Methodism.

 

early, and passed beyond Richland Creek. Here we were in
danger, if anywhere. I could have slept, but was afraid. Seeing
the drowsiness of the company, I walked the encampment and
watched the sentries the whole night.”

He left the Western work well manned. There were two dis-
tricts: Barnabas McHenry presided in Holston, and Francis
Poythress in Kentucky. Wm. Burke, John Ray, Joh Page,

‘and Benjamin Northeutt, appeared for the first time—a strong
reénforcement. ee

Northeutt, a native of North Carolina, followed in the track of
Daniel Boone, at sixteen, and was converted at twenty. Though
he traveled but a short time under the rule of Conference, yet
his domestic and neighborhood itinerancy continued to bless
the Church. In the local relation he often devoted weeks to-
gether in attending meetings both near and remote from his
home. On camp-meeting occasions he was a powerful preacher.
One who knew him well testified: ‘Few men have been permit-
ted to live an age in one community and go down to the grave
with the universal testimony that their lives were of unimpeach-
able purity. Yet this was the lot of Benjamin Northcutt.” Side
by side, at Cane Ridge, at Indian Creek, at Sugar Ridge, and in
other portions of Kentucky, he labored with Ray, and Page, and
the foremost, in the great revival that closed the last and opened
the present century. He died of cancer, in 1854, declaring that
his unwavering confidence in his Redeemer was astonishing, even
to himself—that death was no terror to him.*

Ray, also, was found and saved by the gospel in Kentucky.
Not much of a preacher, he drew the bow at a venture and sel-
dom failed to hit something. “When the Methodists. vis-.
ited his neighborhood he was one of the first converts, and for-
saking his gay and trifling companions, turned his feet to the
house of God. Impressed with the conviction that he ought tc
preach, he offered himself to the Conference. His first and see.
ond years were spent on the Limestone Circuit, in Kentucky;
his third on Green Circuit, in Hast Tennessee; and the three fol-
lowing years in Virginia. From the year 1797 to 1800, inclusive,
he traveled extensively in North Carolina. Worn down, he lo-
cated and rested, then returned to the work again.” + He was a
man of large stature, well-proportioned, erect, and commanding

 

* Jonathan Stampers “Autumn Leaves,” in Home Circle. + Ibid.
John Ray and John Page. 451

 

in appearance. He was celebrated for his capacity to command
order, and tame the ruffians who sometimes infested camp-meet-
ings. On one occasion he asked some young men to leave the
seats appropriated to ladies. They did not obey; whereupon he
left the stand, and was approaching them, when he overheard
one of them say to his companion, “If he comes to me, I’ll
knock lim down.” Ray very coolly replied, “You are too light,
young man;” and taking him by the hand, led him quietly to
his appropriate seat. He was noted for his opposition to slavery,
and was rough in the manner in which he obtruded that subject
upon people. He would seldom lodge at the house of a slave-
holder, if he could avoid it. Often at his appointments, when
invited home with a stranger, his interrogatory would be, “Have
you any negroes?” In the Annual Conference, whenever a
preacher was proposed for admission, every eye would be turned
to Father Ray, expecting him to arise, as was his custom, and
say, “Mr. President, has he any negroes.”* He left Kentucky
after he superannuated, on account of his dislike to slavery, and
removed to Indiana. In the sixty-ninth year of his age he
passed away, at his residence near Greencastle, where he had
lived since 1831, esteemed and beloved by all who knew him.
“Hundreds are yet living,” wrote a veteran, twenty years ago,
“not only in Kentucky, but in Indiana, Illinois, and Missouri—
who once knew him well, and can call up, with the freshness of
yesterday, the swelling melody that rolled from his clear, mu-
sical voice, as he would lift it up in his favorite hymn:
‘Our souls by love together knit,
Cemented, mixed in one!’” f

A native of Fauquier county, Va., the venerable John Page
died at his home in Tennessee, in 1859, ninety-three years old.
He was in his twenty-sixth year when his name first appeared on
the roll. All over Kentucky and Tennessee he bore the burden
and heat of the day. On the border of South-western Virginia,
in 1800, a letter from Bishop Asbury reached him, calling for his
services three hundred miles away. He says: “ When the letter
was handed me, urging me to hasten to Cumberland with all
speed, I had just finished my sermon. I took my dinner and
started, and reached my destined place as soon as I could.”
Letters to him from Bishops Coke, Asbury, and Whatcoat show

 

*Rev. Jonathan Stamper’s “Autumn Leaves,” in Home Circle, 1860. Ibid.
452 History of Methodism.

 

in how high esteem he was held by them. That of the first,
dated 1803, is full and earnest:

I am glad to find that my old, venerable colleagues are able, by traveling sep
arately, to preside at all the Annual Conferences. I frequently travel with them
in spirit, and never forget them and my other American brethren any night what-
ever, while I am bowing my knees before the throne. O what a ravishing view
the Lord sometimes favors me with of your immense continent, filled with inhab-
itants, and filled with sons of God! I feel myself more than ever drawn towanl
my American brethren by the cords of love. Let me hear from you by some
merchant-ship, directing to me at the New Chapel, City Road, London- whence
all letters are safely sent to me, if I be not there.*

When John Page began to preach in Kentucky and Tennessee
there were two districts, embracing nine circuits, 19 traveling
preachers, aud only 2,674 white and 201 colored members. At
his death there were, in the same territory, five Annual Confer-
ences, embracing. forty-four districts, and four hundred and
eighty-six stations, circuits, and missions; 689 traveling and 1,676
local preachers; and a white membership of 155,584, and 30,796
colored. He contributed greatly to this result.

James Haw, having done faithful and heroic service in Ken-
tucky, was superseded on the district and sent to Cumberland
Circuit in 1790. Here also he was very successful, and closed
his itinerancy not so well as it deserved. Says a local chroni-
cler: “It seemed at one time, after the arrival of the Methodist
preachers in Cumberland, that all the people would embrace re-
ligion.” The citizens of Sumner county made him a present of
a section of land (640 acres), that he might fix his home among
them. He embraced the views of O’Kelley, and by his influence
and address evil-affected a few itinerants, and brought over to his
views every local preacher but one in the county in which he had
located; and considerable dissatisfaction obtained among the
members in many of the societies.

In 1795 a young man in the fourth year of his ministry put in
a timely appearance on the Cumberland Circuit. He did a greut
work in establishing and extending Episcopal Methodism in the
West, for he had a fine courage and intellect and a consecrated
spirit— William Burke. Herequested Haw to meet him in pub-
tic, and adjust the differences, if possible. They met, according
to appointment. Burke did himself much honor: an almost ex-

 

_ * Published with a letter from himself, in the South-western Christian Advocate
(Nashville), March 22, 1844.
Haw and Burke—Thomas Wilkerson. 452

 

piring cause was saved. In debate, before a large and deeply
interested audience, Burke so refuted his objections on Church
government as to leave Haw almost without a following. He
held one sacramental meeting, and it is said that himself and
wife were the only communicants. But few, if any, were either
awakened or converted under his ministry after his defection; so
entirely did the spirit engendered by schism destroy a once
powerful ministry. An unpublished history gives a further
glimpse of our old friend and of those times:

In the revival among the Presbyterians and Methodists about the year 18v0,
Haw joined the Presbyterians. At that time the Presbyterians were friendly with
the Methodists; Methodists and Presbyterians preached and communed together;
but when Haw joined the Presbyterians, as he had said many things disrespectful
of Bishop Asbury and of the form of discipline, the existing union was likely to
be broken. John Page and Thomas Wilkerson, stationed in Cumberland Circuit
at that time, very unreservedly stated their objections to Mr. Haw, and that if he
continued among them he must make such acknowledgments as would satisfy the
Methodists; and if he did not, the union must be, in the nature of things, broken.
The Presbyterians determined that Mr. Haw should make such public acknowl-
edgment, that the existing union might not be interrupted.

The charges were: 1. For falsely representing Bishop Asbury as having a libid-
inous thirst for power. 2. For making attempts to disunite the Methodist So-
ciety in Cumberland. 3. In attempting to destroy the Methodist discipline—
charges that Haw did not deny. But it was requested that he should make his
acknowledgments publicly. Accordingly, on Sunday morning, at camp-meeting,
before thousands, Mr. Haw made acknowledgments, full and satisfactory. He ac-
knowledged that he had misrepresented Bishop Asbury and the Methodist disci-
pline. After this Mr. Haw seemed to rise in the esteem of the people, and gain
some influence as a preacher. He continued with the Presbyterians while he
lived.*

The Conference for the West was held in 1795 at Felix Ear-
nest’s, on Nollichucky. “Here six brethren from Kentucky
met us,” says the Bishop; and that was as near as he got to it.
Bishop Asbury could not go, but sent help. John Buxton,
Aquila Sugg, and Francis Acuff, were transferred to Kentucky,
and reported for duty: historic names in Western Methodism.

Another name is introduced this year into the annals of Meth-
odism in the West—Thomas Wilkerson, a native of Amelia
county, Virginia. He had not the advantages of early religious
training, as his parents were irreligious. When about thirteen
years of age he was awakened, but by improper associations his
good impressions were effaced. Though so young, he endeavored

*MS. of Rev. Learner Blackman; quoted in Redford’s History.
2D

 
454 History of Methodism,

 

to drink in the poison of infidelity, but found no relief. When
eighteen years of age, his neighborhood was blessed with a gra-
cious revival, and among the subjects of conversion were several
of his associates. A determination to dissuade them from a re-
ligious life opened afresh the springs of conviction in his own
heart, and renewed his purpose to seek religion. On the follow-
ing Sunday he joined the Church, and before the next, in a re.
markable manner, he received the witness of the Spirit to his
adoption as a child of God. This is the beginning of the mvek,
brave, pure, holy life and ministry, spent mainly in the West,
where his name is as ointment poured forth. Under the pastoral
care of John Metcalf, then traveling the circuit in which he re-
sided, he was kept in the exercise of “gifts and graces,” and at
the session of the Virginia Conference held in Manchester, 1792
—the stormy session that witnessed McKendree’s temporary
cessation from the itinerancy—Thomas Wilkerson became a
traveling preacher.

He filled circuits in Virginia and North Carolina for three years,
and when Asbury called for volunteers, Wilkerson offered himself.
His first appointment in Kentucky was the Hinkstone Circuit,
including Bourbon county. The country through which he
had to pass to reach his new field was sparsely settled, and
the journey hazardous. He says: “We had to pack our pro-
visions for man and horse for nearly two hundred miles.” Be-
ing detained, his company had left him. Friendly settlers on
the border of this mighty sea of woods described its perils
and attempted to dissuade him from his purpose to pass
through it alone. Tales of murder, of the tomahawk and scalp-
ing-knife, in the depths of the very forest through which he
had to pass, were rehearsed to deter him. Into the lonesome,
solemn forest he plunged. Herode on and on, musing upon
the loneliness of man isolated from humanity, and the still
greater loneliness of him who is isolated from God. Night
came; he lay down and slept, and awoke to find “his kind Pre.
server near.” As he pursued his way a chilling consciousness
of his solitary, helpless condition seized him. He apprehended
danger near. Old tales of blood and torture recurred to his
miud. He looked behind, before, and on either side. A moving
object coming toward him startled him. He saw it was a human
being; he felt it to be a savage. Turning as quietly as possible
The Solitary Traveler. 455

 

to one side, among the bushes, he awaited the event with throb-
bing heart. The footfalls sounded nearer and nearer; a swarthy,
fierce-looking man stepped full in view and, himself startled,
grasped convulsively his rifle, but soon relaxed his grasp, and
joyously greeted the affrighted preacher. Wilkerson found the
stranger to be a way-worn, famished soldier from Wayne’s army,
on hisreturnhome. He shared with him his dried beef and home-
made tree-sugar, the remnant of his scanty provisions. After
checking their hunger and passing a few minutes in conversa-
tion, they knelt down and commended themselves to God, and
parted, each to pursue his journey alone. Not far beyond, in a
ravine whose depths the sun hardly penetrated, so walled in was
it by cliffs and overarching trees, the sight of two white-ribbed
skeletons, whose skulls showed the marks of the weapons used,
deepened the traveler’s sense of loneliness and danger, and
caused a lifting up of his heart to God that brought him most
sensible comfort while he pursued the path of duty.

His second appointment in the West was the Lexington Cir-
cuit; the next year, the Cumberland; in 1798, the Holston Circuit,
with Tobias Gibson. Holston, with the exception of a few wide
sweeps beyond, became the scene of his labors. Feeble in frame,
more than once he had to retire and rest; then we meet him
again on the high places of the field, till he falls into the super-
annuated list. In 1801 he attempted to return Kast, but was met
by Bishop Asbury at the Western Conference, and sent again to
Cumberland, where hé remained two years—the circuit taking,
for the first time, the name of “Nashville.” His appointments
for several years threw him in the midst of the great revival
which was permeating Middle Tennessee and Kentucky, and in
which he bore a prominent part. The labors he performed and
the exposures he underwent were too much for his constitution,
previously impaired. Atthe Conference of 1803, when Bishop As-
bury met him he said, “ You look veryslim;” and offered him any
appointment he might choose. Acting upon the principle that the
preacher who chooses his own field of ministerial labor chooses
at the same time any difficulties that may ensue, he declined the
proffered kindness. The church in Lexington had petitioned to
be separated from the circuit. “Lexington Town,” the first sta-
tion in the West, was announced, with Thomas Wilkerson as
its pastor.
456 / History of Methodism.

 

His excellent sense and fervent piety largely overcame the
want of early advantages not only in education but in that which
is still more difficult of later acquirement—social manners. This
was often the subject of remark among those who knew him. It
was difficult to account for the courtly smoothness and urbanity
of the man, who had been born in humble life and trained in the
wilderness. “In dress,” says one who knew him well, “he was
scrupulously neat and plain, always wearing a gray-mixed home-
spun suit, cut according to the primitive Methodistic style. He
could never be induced to assume the clerical black. He was
met one day on the streets of Nashville by a young preacher,
sleek in his raven broadcloth, who accosted him with: ‘Well,
Brother Wilkerson, why do you not wear black? It gives dig-
nity to the appearance of a minister, and is so apt to insure him
respect, I think every minister should wear it.’ Wilkerson,
who by inheritance or marriage was well to do, and could have
afforded the finest, replied: ‘I have reasons, my brother, why I
do not wear black. First, we are told that our message is glad
tidings, good news; and such being the case, it seems to me that
for the heralds of such a message to go clad in mourning is
wholly inappropriate. In the next place, I was taken up by God
from the humbler rank in life, and if the dispensation of the gos-
pel committed to me is to be delivered to any particular class, it
is to the poor. It is with them I hope to be useful; and I wish
by all proper means to commend myself tothem. Hence I dress
so as to make myself easy of approach, and wish by this means
to make them feel that I am their equal, their brother, their
friend, and not elevated so far above them as to have no sympa-
thy with them.’”

He was a delegate to the General Conference of 1828, which
met at Pittsburg. When he came forward to have his quarters
assigned him the committee looked at him, then looked at each
other, and turned aside to deliberate; all of which resulted in
sending Wilkerson away off across the river, perhaps to the vil-
lage of Alleghany. He made no remonstrance. When the com-
mittee on public worship informed him that he was appointed
to preach at a certain time and place, he told them No; he was
out of the corporation—beyond their jurisdiction. A second
time they came, and fortified their authority by saying that
Bishop George said he must preach. (Probably the Bishop
Wilkerson Dies an Octogenarian. 457

 

had suggested his appointment.) He told them if the Bishop
said so he was under his jurisdiction, and would comply. The
Sunday evening hour saw a large congregation and a gracious
surprise. The backwoodsman preached mightily and tenderly.
Mourners were invited to the altar for prayer. Numbers came. A
time of refreshing appeared, and sinners were happily converted.
Wilkerson’s star was in the ascendant; and now came what he dis-
liked more than all the ill treatment his homespun had brought
upon him. The preachers, very charitably, determined to make
up a purse and buy him a suit of clothes. As they were speak-
ing of it in the presence of good Bishop George, who knew
Wilkerson at home, a mischievous twinkle played in the corner
of the old Bishop’s eye. “Why, brethren,” said he, “if you
were blacked he could buy half of you.”

“His was a piety,” continues one who grew up under the in-
fluence of his gracious life, “that begat meekness, gentleness,
temperance, patience, long-suffering, brotherly kindness, charity;
a piety that lived and breathed in all his words and acts; a pi-
ety that made him a most estimable citizen, a kind neighbor, a
just and tender master, a devoted husband; a piety conspicuous
in the pulpit, in the social circle, around the fireside; a piety that
maintained his spirits in cheerfulness and hope through the vi-
cissitudes and reverses of a long life.” *

He died at his residence, near Abingdon, Virginia, 1856, in
the eighty-fourth year of his age. On his bed of death, a few
weeks before he passed away, he said: “This old, worn-out frame
I shall willingly consign to the grave. The grave cannot hurt it.
Storms may rage, the revolutions of the earth may go on, but
my body shall be at rest. God has use for it, and he will take
care of it till the judgment. My soul is his. He gave it; to
him, blessed be his name! it will return.” He was fearful of
grieving the Spirit by being too anxious to depart, for he was
weary of life’s long labors. He said: “The grave is a quiet rest-
ing-place; death is a pleasant sleep.” The last connected words
he uttered were: “If I had my time to go over I would preach
differently to what I have. I would preach more about eternity.
I would strive to keep eternity always before the minds of my
people. What is time but a vapor? Eternity is all!”

-*Rev. George E. Naff, in Home Circle, Vol. II.; and General Minu‘es M. E
Church, South,
458 History of Methodism.

 

“Tn the year 1798,” says John Kobler, “I was sent by Bishop
Asbury, as a missionary, to form a new circuit in what was then
called the North-western Territory.” A native of Culpepper, Vir-
ginia, after good service at home he was, in his thirtieth year,
appointed presiding elder of Kentucky District, succeeding (in
1797) the noble Poythress, who for ten years had held the post
of honor and danger. One year’s work on this district made
Kobler acquainted with frontier life, and he was the first mis-
sionary to cross the Ohio River.

Francis McCormack, a local preacher from Western Maryland,
who immigrated to Kentucky in 1795 and settled in Bourbon
county, had preceded Kobler to the North-western Territory, and
settled “on the Little Miami, near where Milford now stands.”
Up to the time of the entrance of’ Kobler on this missionary
field, “no sound of the everlasting gospel had as yet broken
upon their ears; no house of worship was erected wherein Jeho-
vah’s name was recorded; no joining the assembly of the saints,
or those who keep the holy day; but the whole might, with strict
propriety, be called the land of darkness andthe shadow of
death.” * He “spread the first table for the sacrament of the
Lord’s Supper that was spread north-west of the Ohio,” when
only “twenty-five or thirty—the sum total of all that were in the
country—communed.” At the ensuing Conference Kobler re.
ported the Miami Circuit with ninety-eight white members and
one colored. Henry Smith was his successor.

While a presiding elder in Kentucky, Kobler visited a village
where no Methodist minister had ever preached. Through the
efforts of a few influential citizens, the use of the court-house
was obtained, and he was invited to preach. “All the respecta-
ble citizens attended, and listened to his sermon with profound
attention.” When the public services were over, the people in-
sisted that he was wrongly named—that he was uo cobbler, but
a complete workman.

Soon after Kobler appeared in his new field his hands were
slrengthened by the arrival of Philip Gatch with a goodly com-
pany, who had left Virginia in October, for the Miami region. ,
Here was another preacher’s home in the wilderness, and another
preacher and preaching-place. They had known and loved each

* Finley’s Sketches of Western Methodism

 
John Kobler and Philip Gatch. 459

 

other in the Kast. The temptation, if not the necessity, of taking
a hand in civil life in the formative stage of society and govern
ment, gave Gatch’s future an unexpected turn:

He was made a magistrate, was a delegate to the convention which formed the
constitution of the State, and was appointed by the Legislature an assuciate
judge. He became a most influential citizen, a patriarch of the commonwealth
as well as of the Church. Asbury, Whatcoat, and McKendree, were often his
guests; and his old Eastern fellow-laborers—Watters, Dromgoole, and othe:s—
cheered him with letters. For twenty-two years his position on the bench of the
court of common pleas reflected honor on the public justice. His friend and fel-
low-preacher, Judge Scott, who, as we have seen, attained the honor of the su-
preme court, says he was “regarded as a man of inestimable worth.” THis con-
nection with the early history of the Church rendered his old age venerable, and
the Ohio Conference placed his name among its superannuated preachers, that
he might die with it on their record.*

Kobler’s last days were passed in Fredericksburg, Virginia.
The General Minutes say: “The saint-like spirit, the Christian
conversation, the dignified and ministerial bearing, and the untir-
ing labors of John Kobler in preaching, exhorting, praying, and
visiting the sick, have done more, under God, to give permanency
to Methodism in Fredericksburg than any other instrumentality
ever employed.” Among his last active labors was a tour to the
West, in his seventy-fourth year, visiting old circuits, and gath-
ering from the rich and prosperous field one thousand dollars
to build a new church in Fredericksburg. He landed at Cincin-
nati from aboard a steam-boat, where forty years before he had
left a few settlers in cabins around a fort, then under the com-
mand of General Harrison—the great place of rendezvous for
the troops which were sent by the government to guard the front-
iers against the Indians. When he spread the first table for the
sacrament of the Lord’s Supper that was seen in the North-west,
the communicants did not exceed twenty-five or thirty—the sum
total of all that were in the country; now the Minutes of the An-
nual Conferences of Ohio returned one hundred thousand regu-
lar Church-members; so mightily had the word of God run and
prevailed! Where once he preached in log-cabins, he now saw
“stately churches, whose spires point toward heaven, and whose
solemn bells announce the Christian Sabbath and call the at-
tention of the multitude to the house of God.” _ He visited the
homes of his old friends of the Miami Circuit. “Taking my

 

*Stevens’s History of the M. E. Church.
460 Histury of Methodism.

 

hand,” writes a son of Gatch, “he held it for some time in si-
lence, looking me in the face with a most impressive expression
of countenance, which produced in me a sensation that I shall
not attempt to describe. At length, im the most emphatic man-
ner, he said: ‘Your father was a great man in his day. He
fought many hard battles for the Church. May you bea worthy
son of so worthy a father!’ He visited the graves of my parents,
took off his hat, and stood some minutes as if absorbed in deep
thought; fell upon his knees for some time, arose bathed in
tears, and walked out of the grave-yard in silence.”

At the Kentucky Conference of 1794 appeared Thomas Scott,
transferred from the Baltimore Conference. He was born in West-
ero Maryland, 1772. In the fourteenth year of his age he was con
verted; at seventeen he was received on trial into the Conference.
He traveled circuits in Virginia and Maryland, and in 1793 he
traveled the Ohio Circuit, a field of labor of great extent, stretch-
ing along the frontier settlements on the Ohio River in Western
Pennsylvania and Virginia. In the spring of 1794, embarking
at Wheeling, he descended the Ohio River on a flat-boat laden
with provisions for Wayne’s army. This was his best route to
join the Kentucky itinerancy. After doing good work on the
Danville and Lexington circuits he located, and turned his at-
tention to the study of law. While prosecuting his legal studies,
in order to support his family he worked at the tailoring busi-
ness—some idea of which he had gathered in early life from his
father, who was a tailor. Anxious to render him every assist-
ance, his wife spent her leisure time in reading to her husband
Blackstone’s Commentaries and other law-books, while he plied
his needle upon the board. In 1800 he obtained license to prac-
tice law, and in 1801 emigrated to Ohio, and settled in Chilli-
cothe. There was force in Thomas Scott’s character, as well as in
his constitution. He outlived nearly all his contemporaries, and
his sketches afford the best history of a good many men and
things in his times. His first years in the itinerancy were spent
as Junior preacher under Valentine Cook, and Daniel Hitt, and
Thomas Lyell—men whose contact had an educating power.
While on Berkeley Circuit, in Virginia, he preached at Charles-
town—a place where mobs had molested Methodist meetings:
He preached in a grove, and requested all who wished to join the
Church to meet him at his lodging ata given hour. He says:
Thomas Scott and Edward Tiffin. 461

 

Before the hour had arrived Dr. Edward Tiffin came into the room where I
was sitting, and commenced a conversation with me. Being a stranger to me, and
not knowing but that he had been one of those who had favored the mobs, I con-
versed with him cautiously. He however remained, and several others soon col-
lected. After singing, prayer, and an exhortation, I gave an invitation to those
who wished to become members to come forward and announce their names, The
doctor was standing on the opposite side of the room fronting me. I had not per-
ceived that he was affected; but the moment I gave the invitation he quickly
stepped forward, evidently under deep and pungent conviction, roaring almcst
with anguish, and asked for admission into the Church. He was admitted, and
before I had completed that round on the circuit he had preached several sermons,
Immediately after I had received Dr. Tiffin into the Church he became convinced
of his call to the ministry. Conferring not with flesh and blood, and without
waiting for a license, he forthwith commenced preaching.

Tiffin had a family, and could not therefore enter the itiner-
ancy in those times. In stature he was about five feet six inches,
robust, with a capacious head, a round, florid face, and express-
ive features; in conversation vivid and intelligent; in the pulpit
systematic and energetic. He removed to Ohio Territory, and
when Scott reached Chillicothe, he found Tiffin, his convert of
ten years before, there ready to receive him, a commanding citi
zen, preaching the gospel in the surrounding country, organizir¢
societies, dealing out medicines with liberality to the poor, suc-
cessfully performing difficult cases of surgery, and sheltering
the pioneer Methodists. Tiffin became the chief citizen of Ohio;
was elected a member of the convention which formed its State
constitution, and soon after elected its first governor, “withovt
opposition.” He served a second term, and was afterward chos-
en senator in Congress, and held other places of trust. “He
was an honor to his denomination, and his influence for it was
one of its greatest early advantages in the West.”

When Tiffin was elected governor, Scott succeeded him in the clerkship of sev
eral courts, and at the first township election of Chillicothe, under the constitu
tion, he was elected a justice of the peace, the first one commissioned under the
State organization. He was also elected secretary of the first State Senate, an of
fice which he held several years, till he was appointed by the Legislature a ju lge
of the supreme court, whose chief-justice he became one year later. In these
prominent civil places he acquitted himself with honor, for his native capacity
was much above mediocrity, and his diligent application, both to study and labor,
rendered him master of his position. His official rank secured him public influ-
ence, and this he, like his friend Tiffin, consecrated to religion. They were two
of the strongest pillars of Methodism in Ohio, and to their public character and
labors it owes inuch of its rapid growth and predominant sway in that magnificent
State. Had Scott been able, after his marriage, to remain in the itinerant minis
462 History of Methodism.

 

try, he would probably have attained, as his friends predicted, its highest office
and dignity; but it may be doubted whether he or Tiffin could, even as its chief
bishop, have served their denomination or their generation more effectively than
they did in their long and honorable lives as local preachers and public citizens.
Ohio reveres the memory of her Methodist first governor and first chief-justice,
and has given the name of the former to two of her towns.*

We take leave for awhile of Kentucky and Tennessee, the
scene of the great Western campaign—the gate-way to the North-
west, the transmontane distributing-point of ministerial supplies;
but it is with a feeling of regret that the heroes whose self-deny-
ing and mighty achievements laid not only the foundation of
Methodism, but of a moral empire, can have such inadequate
notice. They will live forever. Their record is on high. In
the limits of this sketch, and at this distance of time, we must
fail of doing reverence to a host of worthies, even by the mention
of their names. Wm. Burke, Lewis Garrett, Moses Speer, Jacob
Lurton, Stephen Brooks, Henry Smith, James Ward, Richard
Bird, Benjamin Lakin, John Watson, Jeremiah Lawson, and
their brethren, wrought on God’s temple, holding the sword in
one hand while the trowel was wielded by the other.

But the work is under way; the land is surveyed and mapped
out; log meeting-houses are rising up; every fort and station has
been preached to; the roads, if not macadamized, have been
“blazed;” preachers, exhorters, class-leaders, and a body of
working laymen, begin to come forward from among the con-
verts; and the living forces of a gospel Church are all at work.
Methodism is established, and ready to receive and to assimilate
immigrants as they come. There are, at the close of 1799, in
Tennessee, 530 white and 51 colored members; in Kentucky,
1672 white and 64 colored members; and the Miami Circuit, in
the North-west Territory, has 98 members, and next year the Sci-
oto will be added. All these are distributed into ten circuits,
and served by twelve itinerants, and a number of local preachers.

Looking to the South-west, we see that vast domain opened or
opening by late national treaties, and its occupancy is this year
begun. Tobias Gibson, of the South Carolina Conference, hav-
ing filled several appointments within the limits of his own Con-
ference, was impressed with a strong desire to visit Natchez.
He offered himself to Bishop Asbury as a missionary, and was

 

*Stevens’s History of the M. E. Church.
Tobias Gibson—The Work Spreading. 463

 

sent to plant the banner of salvation on the lower Mississippi,
in 1799, eighteen years before the Mississippi territory was ad-
mitted into the Union. He set out from Pedee—his native spot
—and bent his course toward the Cumberland River. For six
hundred miles he traveled through the wilderness. Arriving at
the river, he sold his horse, bought a canoe, and embarked for
twelve hundred miles, with saddle, bridle, and saddle-bags, and a
supply of provisions. Paddling himself down the Cumberland,
he dropped into the Ohio, and soon after reached the Mississippi.
“God speed thee, brave-hearted boatman! Thy frail bark car-
ries the gospel to the frontier outpost of civilized life.” He con-
tinued his solitary course down the great river until he reached
Natchez. Here he founded a Methodist Church. He subse-
quently made four land journeys through the wilderness lying
between Natchez and the Cumberland, to procure additional la-
borers. In the Minutes of 1800 sixty members were reported as
the result of his first year’s work. We shall see Methodism
from this center working its way eastward until it meets the
coming tide in the Tombigbee Valley, and southward to New
Orleans, and westward into Opelousas, Attakapas, and the Red
River regions of Louisiana.
CHAPTER XXXII.

Annual Conferences—Boundaries and Powers Established—Locations—Chartered
Fund—Proposal to Strengthen the Episcopacy Fails—Asbury’s Health Gives
Way—Helpers—Whatcoat Consecrated Bishop—-McKendree in the West.

HE number of the yearly Conferences and their size were

found to be inconvenient. The most of them were too small
to exert the moral and disciplinary power that inheres in large
and well-ordered bodies. They lacked the presence of mature and
guiding minds, and presented not enough variety of talent and
adaptation in the ministry to meetthe demands of the work. This
was remedied by the General Conference of 1796, which divided the
whole Connection into six Conferences, independent of each other,
with defined boundaries and limited powers; with provision for a
seventh in the province of Maine, “if the Bishops see it neces-
sary.” These six original Conferences were: New England,
Philadelphia, Baltimore, Virginia, South Carolina, and the
Western Conference. Before this regulation the Bishop had the
power of appointing the number of Conferences at his own discre-
tion, which doubtless caused much pressure to be brought to bear
on him for local accommodation. This and that neighborhood
wanted a Conference, and the preachers wished to be excused from
distant journeys. Two years before, fourteen Conferences had
been held occupying eleven months. One of them began and
closed the same day. This year an account of the number of the
members in each State separately was taken.*

The summing up of statistics for 1796 showed thirty preachers
admitted on trial, and forty lost out of the traveling ministry—
twenty-eight by location and nine by death. The next year forty
recruits joined the itinerant ranks and forty-three located. This
tendency was alarming. The ranks of the ministry were weak-
ened even more than these figures indicated, for ministers of ex-
perience and well-developed power were giving place to mere be-

* Province of Maine, 357; New Hampshire, 68; Connecticut, 1,050; New York,
4,044; New Jersey, 2,351; Pennsylvania, 3,011; Delaware, 2,228; Maryland, 12,-
416; Virginia, 13,779; Massachusetts, 824; Rhode Island, 220; North Carolina,
8,713; South Carolina, 3,659; Georgia, 1,174; Tennessee, 546; Kentucky, 1,750;.
Upper Canada, 474, Total 56,664.

(464)

 
* The Chartered Fund.” 465

 

ginners. There was a limit to endurance, even for single men,
and for those with families to continue going became impossible
in the present time, to say nothing of the lack of any provision
in the future. They asked only to be supported—barely to sub-
sist—while at work; not to lay up any thing. Below the bare
subsistence-point in the itinerancy was—location.* Something
must be done, and at this General Conference the preachers’ sal-
aries being kept at the old mark. ($64), a supplemental scheme
was devised to help those who failed to get that, and others
whose necessities required more. This scheme was known as

e “Chartered Fund.” It was domiciled in Philadelphia, and
nine trustees chosen. The main provisions may be seen:

Question: What further provision shall be made for the distressed traveling
preachers, for the families of traveling preachers, and for superannuated and worn-
out preachers, and the widows and orphans of preachers?

Answer: There shall be a chartered fund, to be supported by the voluntary
contributions of our friends, the principal stock of which shall be funded under
the direction of trustees, and the interest applied under the direction of the Gen-
eral Conference, according to the following regulations, viz.:

1, That no sum exceeding sixty-four dollars shall in any one year be applied
to the use of an itinerant, superannuated, or worn-out single preacher.

2. That no sum exceeding one hundred and twenty-eight dollars in any one
year shall be applied to the use of any itinerant, superannuated, or worn-out mar-
ried preacher. ,

3. That no sum exceeding sixty-four dollars in any one year shall be applied
for the use of each widow of an itinerant, superannuated, or worn-out preacher.

4, That no sum exceeding sixteen dollars shall be applied in any one year for the
use of each child or orphan of an itinerant, superannuated, or worn-out preacher.

The interest was annually divided among the Conferences, to
be used under these provisions; and in addition to gifts and leg-
acies from friends, it was provided that “the produce of the sale
of our books, after the book debts are paid and a sufficient capi-
tal is provided for carrying on the business, shall be regularly
paid into the Chartered Fund.”

In the plea issued by the General Conference in behalf of this
fund, while a just claim is forcibly presented upon true grounds,

 

 

% Wm. Burke’s case was not a solitary one. In 1794 we find him on Salt River
Circuit, Kentucky. It was nearly five hundred miles in extent, comprising five
counties, to be traveled every four weeks, with continual preaching. - The sorely
tried itinerant writes: “I was reduced to the last pinch. My clothes were nearly

all gone. I had patch upon patch, and patch by patch, and I received only
money sufficient to buy a waistcoat, and not enongh to pay for making it.”
30
466 History of Methodism

 

we get a glimpse of a few bunches of those sour grapes which
the fathers ate, and in consequence the children’s teeth were set
on edge. There was no Missionary Board, as yet:

Our brethren who have labored on the mountains, on the Western waters, and
in the poorer circuits in general, have suffered unspeakable hardships, merely
from tue want of some established fund, in which the competent members of our
Society might safely lodge what their benevolent hearts would rejoice to give for
the spread of the gospel. On the same account many of our worn-out preat hers
some of whom quickly consume their strength by their great exertions for the sal
vation of souls, have.been brought into deep distress; and the widows and orphans
of ovt preachers have been sometimes reduced to extreme necessity who might
have lived in comfort if the preachers who were the husbands on the one hand, and
the fathers on the other, had not loved their Redeemer better than wife or chil-
dren, or life itself. And it is to be lamented—if possible, with tears of blood—-
that we have lost scores of our most able married ministers—men who were
obliged to retire from the general work because they saw nothing before them for
their wives and children—if they continued itinerants—but misery and ruin. But
the present institution will, we trust, under the blessing of God, greatly relieve us
in, if not entirely deliver us from, these mighty evils. For we have full confi-
dence that the hearts of our friends will be enlarged, and their hands stretched
forth on this important occasion, and a provision will be made sufficient to pre-
serve such objects of charity from want, which is all that is aimed at or desired.

“Many of our friends,” says a contemporary historian, “ will-
ingly subscribed to this valuable institution, and several thousand
dollars were collected in a short time.” Some valuable legacies
were also left by will to the trustees of this fund.

The endowment that supports a class of ministerial benefici-
aries, retired and likely to be lost sight of and therefore neglect-
ed, may be wise in its principle and good in its operations; but
the principle of endowing a living and working ministry has
been justly objected to.. To this extent some have alleged that
the Chartered Fund was a virtual repudiation of the doctrine of
inspiration—“ They that preach the gospel must live of the gos-
pel.” If successful, it would have made the ministry independ-
ent of the people, and great evils would come of this; if unsuc-
cessful, the persons whom it proposes to benefit are damaged by
being cut off from direct reliance upon the living Church. The
opinion of one wh> sbserved its workings closely is thus given:

Though the creation of the Chartered Fund originated from the purest motives,
and has been kept up and superintended by some of the most benevolent spirits
of the Church, yet it has never been able to pay more than from ninety to one

hundred dollars a year to each Annual Conference; and as this small amount
would not, when divided among the several claimants, give to each but about two
Location—The Effect and Cause of Evits. 467

dollars a year, it may be questioned whether, by inducing a false dependence in
the public mind, this fund has not defeated the objects of its institution, and dis-
appointed the expectations of its benevolent founders and patrons.*

The Church moved up slowly at this point, having much to
overcome in the way of her own teaching and habits. Four years
later (1800), the preacher’s salary was raised to eighty dollars a
year, and the parsonage plan was inaugurated, providing a
dwelling free of rent and supplied with heavy furniture. In the
first thirty years after the organization of. Episcopal Methodism
sixteen hundred and sixteen itinerant preachers had united with
the different Conferences. Two years later—that is, by the Gen-
eral Conference of 1816—seven hundred and sixty-four had lo-
cated, one hundred and sixteen had died in the work, thirty-one
had been expelled, nineteen had withdrawn, and six hundred and
eighty-six still remained in the pastorate.t These figures show
that during a period about the average of human life, immedi-
ately following the organization of the Church, only seven per
cent. of her itinerant ministry died in the active service, while
forty-seven per cent. had located. The locations exceeded, by
seventy-eight, the whole number of itinerants then retaining
membership in the Conferences—the accumulation of all these
years. This loss from the pastorate of men who had completed
their probation—tested men—shows an immense strain on the
system. Depriving the Church of the benefit of practiced wis-
dom and ability in the pastoral relation was the first but not the
only calamity. So many preachers of recognized, justly earned
influence being thrown into the local ranks disturbed the equilib-
rium of ecclesiastical government which, by reason and Script-
ure, must always be largely devolved upon the pastorate; and
thus was laid the foundation of revolutionary measures that in
time came to the surface, with great disquiet and hurt.

A Deed of Settlement, securing and protecting Church prop-
erty, in nearly the language of the present form, was the enact-
ment of this General Conference; a timely measure, for as yet
no great investment had been made in this direction.

At this session it was agreed that local preachers might be or-
dained deacons; and arrangements were also made for the trial
of local preachers, with privilege of appeal.

 

*Bangs’s History of the M. E. Church, Vol. II. +See alphabetical list in
Bangs’s History.
468 History of Methodism.

 

The General Conference of 1796 met in Baltimore, on the
20th of October, with one hundred and twenty traveling preach-
ers. An evidence of brevity and dispatch is furnished by one
of them: “After we had finished the business of the Con-
ference, we had the Minutes published before the preachers
left town, that they might take them to their several circuits.”
Bishop Coke, who had been absent nearly four years, was pres-
ent, and brought with him a letter of fraternal greeting from
the British Conference. Hitherto Asbury, with little assistance
from his colleague, had borne the whole burden of episcopal
duty. He had been for some time desirous of dividing this bur-
den; and now the magnitude of the work, the frequent and long
European visits of Coke, and his own failing health, made it
necessary that some one be appointed to “this office and minis-
try.” A resolution to strengthen the episcopacy was introduced,
and pending its discussion Asbury rose and stated to the Confer-
ence the fears that agitated his mind, and the reasons for them.
He feared an imprudent selection, and expressed the hope that
the choice might fall on some one well established in the doc-
trines and discipline of Methodism. “This threw a damper on
all present, and seemed to paralyze the whole business.” The
resolution was then modified so as to read thus: “To strengthen
the episcopacy in a way which should be agreeable to Mr. As-
bury.” “It was then almost unanimously agreed to, and re-
quested of Mr. Asbury to make the selection himself, which he
appeared very backward and unwilling to do.” At this juncture
of the affair a new difficulty was started. Coke, who was pres-
ent, and occupied the chair, requested the suspension of action
upon the subject until the afternoon session. When the body
assembled again, “Dr. Coke offered himself wholly to the Con-
ference, promising to serve them in the best manner he could,
and to be entirely at the disposal of his American brethren, and
to live or die among them.”* He retired, and after two days’
warm debate his offer was accepted, and the resolution before
agreed to “was dropped.” No doubt Coke was sincere in the offer

 

“Life and Times of Jesse Lee, by L. M. Lee, D.D., with an original letter from
Rev. John Kobler (1843), who sat with Lee in three General Conferences. Jesse
Lee opposed the acceptance of Coke’s offer: “TI still say, No more English bish-
ops. I had rather lose one than make one I wish for an American Superintend-
ent equal in power with Brother Asbury.” See pages 370-380.
Strengthening the Episcopacy. 469

 

made, but he had many things on hand, and in a few months was
on the ocean, in response to calls from the West Indies, and Ire-
land, and England.

Bishop Asbury’s health failed during the next year, and on
his route to the New England Conference he was obliged to
lie by. Never of strong constitution, naturally subject to mel-
ancholy and dejection, his travels have been a triumph of mind
over matter; a strong will and a burning zeal have borne him
along. With legs and feet swollen, and his chest blistered, he
has been accomplishing journeys, been presiding and preach-
ing, at a rate both wonderful and painful to the reader who
keeps acquainted with his diary. Now he stops, and yet does
not stop; for through a score of years he will, to use his own ex-
pression, go “hobbling” through the United States and Territo-
ries. During the summer of 1797 he abandoned the hope of be-
ing able to meet his engagements at the extremes of the Union.
Under these circumstances he wrote to Jesse Lee requesting
him to hold himself in readiness to leave his district, and go
with him from the approaching New England Conference to
Charleston and the more southern portions of the work. A later
letter bears date September 12th, appointing Lee president:

My Very Dear Brother: I am convinced that I ought not to attempt to come to
the Conference at Wilbraham. Riding thirteen miles yesterday threw me into
more fever than J have had for a week past. It will be with difficulty I shall get
back. The burden lieth on thee; act with a wise and tender hand, especially on
the stations. I hope it will force the Connection to do something, and turn their
attention for one to assist or substitute me. I cannot express the distress I have
had in all my afflictions, for the state of the Connection. We say the Lord will
provide. True; but we must look out for men and means. Your brethren in
Virginia wish you to come forth. I think the most general and impartial election
may take place in the Yearly Conferences; every one may vote; and in General
Conference, perhaps one-fifth or one-sixth part would be absent. I wish you to
come and keep as close to me and my directions as you can. I wish you to go,
after the Conference, to Georgia, Holston, and to Kentucky; and perhaps come tc
Baltimore in June, if the ordination should take place, and so come on to the
Eastern Conference. You will have to follow my advice for your health, steel as

you are.

The reference to ordination has this explanation: Bishop As-
bury had proposed the election of Richard Whatcoat, Francis
Poythress, and "Jesse Lee, as assistant bishops in the United
States. Ten years before, when Wesley nominated Whatcoal
and Garrettson for the same office, the quadrennial General Con.

2E
470 History of Methodism.

 

ference had not been instituted and in the absence of this fed-
eral organ the three Yearly Conferences, then held, acted on the
proposition separately. It passed the first, was halted at the
second, and was rejected at the third. Coke did his best to take
it through, but failed. Indeed, the last Conference (Baltimore),
which by numbers and position so preponderated as to be con-
trolling, took him sharply to account for having, while out of
the country and without consulting Asbury, called a Conference
to meet in Baltimore some months in advance of the regular ses-
sion of the Yearly Conference, and to act as a General Confer-
ence. Coke apologized for his conduct, and entered into a written
agreement never to exercise any episcopal authority for Ameri-
can Methodism when out of America; and even then to be more
considerate of coérdinate powers than he had been. As this was
not his first, so if was not his last blunder, as we shall see.

The proposal of Asbury for the Yearly Conferences to begin
voting on nominations for his colleagues, made by himself, was ex-
traordinary. The New England Conference and President did
well to give it a quietus: it seems not to have traveled farther.
True, the exigency was pressing, but the plan for meeting it was
bad and the precedent worse. The worthy and worn-out Bishop
had discerned the men on whom were the eyes of the people; and
he felt the wants of the Church as no other man could; but he was
“overseen” in his method of supply. His parental solicitude
made him oblivious of the practice and principle involved when
the three names should be going through successive Conferences,
with his weighty indorsement, while the voters, in the absence
of any opportunity of canvassing other names, were shut up to
the trio. His one action involved three that come before a Gen-
eral Conference for consideration, and are considered of some
importance: Shall the episcopacy be strengthened? “Yes,”
says the Bishop. Howmany? “Three,” is the response. Whom
shall we have? The same great and guileless man, knowing all
the preachers by name and character, feeling as a father toward
his children, settles the question—“ Whatcoat, Poythress, and
Lee.” That he meant well and nominated wisely in this, none
could doubt. If not an abusive procedure, it was liable to abuse.
The parental rather than the constitutional method grew up out
of his relation to the people and preachers—they were his spir-
itual children. It was this, or such as this, that helped to antag-
Lee Supplies Asbury’s Place. 471

 

onize the destructive O’Kelley, who, after being committed to
the opposition, went farther than he intended—too far to turn
back. It would be alike unphilosophical and unhistorical to
suppose that there was no occasion or cause whatever for that
fierce faction. These abortive measures of administration,
though they make no figure in current history, may enable us in
part to account for a schism which never can be justified.*

Leaving Wilbraham, Lee repaired to New Rochelle, where he
found the Bishop, somewhat improved in health, though yet suf-
fering. In a few days they commenced their journey to the
South, to hold the Conferences. Passing through Virginia they
met Coke, who was supposed to be in Europe. He had just
landed, bringing an address from the British to the American
Conference, containing a request to cancel his engagements to
continue among them, and to suffer him to return to England to
devote himself to the Church in his native land. The Virginia
Conference, to which this was presented, declined acting on a
paper and a pledge of which the General Conference only could
take cognizance, but drew up a letter, which Asbury signed.
After stating the sole and exclusive right of the General Confer-
ence in the premises, it affirms: “No Yearly Conference, no of-
ficial character, dare assume to answer for that grand federal
body. By the advice of the Yearly Conference now sitting in Vir-
ginia, and the respect I bear to you, I write to inform you that
in our own persons and order we consent to his return, and par-
tial continuance with you; and earnestly pray that you may have
much peace, union, and happiness together.”

This Conference counseled the Bishop to cease traveling, at
least until the spring, and requested Lee to proceed South and
supply his place. This he did. He filled twenty-five appoint-
ments for preaching in thirty days and five hundred miles, and
reached Charleston on the 1st of January, 1798. It was nearly
thirteen years since he had visited the city, in company with

 

*Tt was well, for more reasons than one, that this proposal miscarried. Poy-
thress was far away in the West; and the accurate and thoughtful McHenry had
at this period detected the decay not only of his body, but of his mind. Poy-
thress was relieved of the Kentucky District next year, and began to pass under
the cloud. In 1818 he died, in Jessamine county, twelve miles from Lexington,
at the house of his sister, Mrs. Susanna Pryor, with whom he had lived, in a state
of derangement, for several years. (Letter of B. McHenry tu Lewis Garrett -
1823—in Recollections of the West.)
472 History of Methodism.

 

Bishop Asbury and Henry Willis, for the purpose of establish-
ing regular Methodist worship in the place. On that occasion
Lee preached the first sermon. A gentleman named Wells re-
ceived them into his house, and was converted, and his family
became the warm friends and steady adherents of the Church.
But now he was not—God had taken him. Bishops Coke and
Asbury happened fitly to be in Charleston when this first trophy
of Methodism was gathered home to his rest in heaven, and they
were privileged to pay mournful tribute to the memory of this
generous and noble-minded servant of Christ. Lee could only
go to the grave and weepthere. There were now two neat houses
of worship and a flourishing company of believers to welcome
him and wait on his ministry. The South Carolina Conference
commenced on the 2d of January. The Minutes report the ©
members in Society in the city at 77 whites and 421 colored;
and in the State at 3,354 whites and 1,179 colored. An increase
on the preceding year of 661 whites and 289 colored.

As the appointments of Bishop Asbury extended into Geor-
gia, on the adjournment of Conference Lee visited Augusta, and
went to the southern limits of the Union, preaching twenty-seven
times in thirty days. ‘Stith Mead did a great work here.

During the past year James King, the pastor in Charleston, had
died—a young man “greatly esteemed”—and John Dickins, in
Philadelphia; both of yellow fever. Since 1789 Dickins had been
staioned there, superintending the Book Concern with economy
and wisdom. Says the chronicler of the times: “He conducted
the whole of his business with punctuality and integrity. He
closed his life with uncommon joy and peace, and had a full as-
surance of eternal life. His death was more sensibly felt by the
Methodist Connection in general than we had ever known or felt
in the death of any other preacher that had died among us.”

The repeated presence of yellow fever in the Atlantic cities
eaused a change from fall to spring sessions of the Conferences,
so as to begin in the South in the winter, and terminate in the
extreme Eastern States in the sammer.

Pursuing his route northward, Lee reached the seat of the
Virginia Conference in time to preach its first sermon. Of the
service he says: “We had a most powerful, weeping, shouting
time; the house seemed to be filled with the presence of God;
and I could truly say it was a time of love to my soul.” It was a
From New England to the Svuth. 473

 

great joy to meet once more with Bishop Asbury, and to find
him, though worn and wasted with affliction, harnessed for the
conflict with sin, and going forth, as of yore, in the front of the
battle. “Bishop Asbury exhorted for some time, and the people
were much melted under the word.” The Conference was held
at Salem, in Mecklenburg county, in April, about four months
from the one of the preceding year; this was done in order to fall
in with the arrangement heretofore mentioned for holding the
Conferences.

Having finished in New England the visitation of the Confer-
ences for 1798, Bishop Asbury and his traveling companions re-
paired to the South, in order to resume their duties at the ex-
tremity of the work, as had been done in the preceding year.
January 1, 1799, beginning at Charleston—where a month is
spent, including a run into Georgia—they work their way up
northward; not taking straight lines between preaching-points
and Conferences. And this was done the next year also, with
the addition of Nicholas Snethen to the company, who was called
the “silver trumpet.” The Bishop lamented, “My bow is weak,
if not broken;” and yet he preached often, and oftener exhorted
after his younger and more vigorous co-laborers had “sermon-
ized.” His appointments were out for months in advance, some
times for a year; and they were well improved—if he could not
preach himself, he had it done, and well done. As an illustra-
tion of the general interest excited by these visitations, the fact
is stated by the Bishop that from three to six thousand souls.
congregated weekly at their appointments for preaching.

January 1, 1800, the Conference for the southern portion of
the Church was again held in Charleston. “Twenty-three min-
isters were present. None had died during the year, none locat-
ed, and seven were received into the ministry” as itinerants.
The reports from the different circuits, including those in Geor-
gia, show an encouraging state of religion. The tide has turned
henceforth growth is reported from Georgia to Maine. There
have been great searchings of heart over the late divisions; sol-
emn days of fasting and prayer; patient waiting and faithful
working; and the Lord sends now prosperity. We find this en-
try in the Bishop’s journal, January 6th: “I desired Jesse Lee,
as my assistant, to take my horse and his own, and visit, between
this and the 7th of February, Coosa-vhatchie, Savannah, and St.
474 History of Methodism.

 

Mary’ 8 (a ride of about four hundred miles), and to take John
Garven to his station. The time hath been when ‘this j journey
would have been my delight, but now I must lounge in Charles-
ton.” In those days, when preachers lived in the saddle, it re-
quired but short notice for a long journey, and Lee accordingly
entered upon the work prescribed the next morning. On the
18th he reached St. Mary’s—the termination of his mission.
Here he preached in the court-house to a large congregation of
attentive hearers. From hence he hurried on, through mud,
water, and swamps, preaching every day. He dryly remarks:
“The country is very good for cattle, but at present it is a poor
place for piety or morality. Persons who violate the laws of
their country find it convenient to flee from justice either to
the Indians on the West or the Spaniards on the South, and
thus get beyond the laws of the United States. I heard of some
people,” he writes, “in the counties of Glenn and Camden, who
were grown to man’s estate, and some that had families, who
never heard a sermon until last summer, when Brother George
Clark first came among them, preaching repentance by Jesus
Christ.”

On his return trip Lee spent several days in Savannah, and
improved the opportunity to visit Whitefield’s Orphan-house,
and with sad feelings contemplated the ruin. He returned to
Charleston February 7th, the day appointed for his return by the
Bishop, who on the occasion says: “Jesse Lee and George
Dougherty came to town; the former hath been a route of about
six hundred miles; and my poor gray hath suffered forit.”* Four
days were given to rest, preaching, and pious visiting, when the
Bishop and his party were again in the saddle, with their faces
to the North. The weary Asbury rejoices once more to be on
the road and in the country: “On my way I felt as if I was let
out of prison. Hail! ye solitary pines! the jessamine, the red-
bud, and dogwood, how charming in full bloom! the former a
most fragrant smell.” The reports all along the line were cheer-
ing. From the year 1795 there was an organized Society in
every State, and there was now a gain of members in every one

 

**A fter we had finished our business in Conference, four of the largest preach-
ers amongst us went.to a friend’s store and were weighed. My weight was 259 ths.;
Seely Bunn’s, 252; Thomas Lucas’s, 245; and Thomas F. Sargeant’s, 220; in lL
976 lbs.; and all of us travel on horseback.” (Jesse Lee’s Journal.)
The Cirele Widens—Asbury at Home. 475

 

except Pennsylvania, and there a revival flame was kindling.
The Church in Augusta, Georgia, is organized, and begins to
build. In the course of the previous year, says a local histo-
rian, “our Society in the city of Richmond, Virginia, began to
build a meeting-house in that place, and after some time they
finished it; but their difficulties in paying for it were very
great.” On the frontiers the circle enlarges. Southward, Oco-
nee and Milledgeville and St. Mary’s are added; eastward, Nan-
tucket, Merrimac, Cape Cod, Cape May, and Penobscot; north-
ward, Niagara, Montreal, Otsego, Cayuga, and Chenango; and
westward, we have seen the extreme positions of Miami and
Natchez occupied; and Kanawha appears on the list of appoint-
ments at the end of the century.

Bishop Asbury, not always able to keep up with his appoint-
ments at the extreme limits of the Connection, ever and anon lies
by at Dromgoole’s, or Merritt’s, or Gough’s, or Bassett’s—wait-
ing at these middle stations to fall in with his helpers, according
to his strength. We look in during the weeks of enforced rest,
and find him writing letters—on an average a thousand a year—
planning the work and bringing up his journal; while as one of
the family he enters into domestic life by shelling peas with the
good housewife, winding cotton, and teaching the children their
lessons. He had no lack of homes, for the Master’s promise
was fulfilled—he had them “a hundred-fold;” but he had no
abundance of money. He writes: “One of my friends wanted
to borrow or beg £50 of me—he might as well have asked me for
Peru. I showed him all the money I had in the world—about
$12—and gave him five. Strange that neither my friends nor my
enemies will believe that I neither have nor seek bags of money.*

 

* His journal, at such a time, discloses his feelings as well as his afflictions: “It
is now eight weeks since I have preached—awfully dumb Sabbaths! I have been
most severely tried from various quarters; my fevers, my feet, and Satan, would
set in with my gloomy and nervous affections. Sometimes subject to the greatest
effeminacy; to distress at the thought of a useless, idle life; but what brought the
heavy pang into my heart was the thought of leaving the Connection without some
proper men of their own election, to go in and out before them in my place, ard
to keep that order which I have been seeking these many years to establisn.
Lord, help me! for I am poor and needy; the hand of God hath touched me, and
I think Satan forts himself in my melancholy, unemployed, unsocial, and inactive
hours.” His feet, he complains, ache so that he fears they wiil mortify; yet, te
ase his own descriptive words, he “rubs along”—“hohbles abr ut.”
476 History of Methodism.

 

The fourth General Conference assembled in Baltimore, May
6, 1800. One hundred and nineteen preachers, as members of
the body, were present, and the session continued until the 20th
of the month. It was resolved that hereafter the General Con-
ference should consist only of elders who had traveled four years,
and the Annual Conferences were directed to send their journals
to the General Conference for revision. The Bishops, who had
previously been dependent upon private liberality or the benev-
olence of -particular societies for their support, were now au-
thorized to look to the Annual Conferences for their allowance,
each Conference having to pay its proportion of the amount nec-
essary to be raised. This Conference recommended the pur-
chase of ground and the erection of parsonages in each circuit.
The annual salary of itinerants was raised four dollars per quar-
ter; that is, instead of sixty-four dollars it was eighty dollars;
and the rule was abolished requiring the preachers “to give an
account of all the private gifts they received, whether it were
money, clothing, or any thing else, toward their support; and it
was to go in part of their quarterage, or else it was to be ap-
plied to make up the deficiencies of the other preachers.”

The venerable Henry Smith, who lived to be the oldest preacher
of his day, was awakened under the second sermon preached by
Thomas Scott (afterward Judge Scott) on the Berkley Circuit.
He followed Kobler in Ohio, and blessed Kentucky and Tennes-
see with his ministry in the hardest times. Writing “Recollec-
tions” from “Pilgrim’s Rest,’ Baltimore county, on the early
events of our history, he says:

I traveled seven years under the rule that allowed a preacher sixty-four dollars
a year, including all martiage fees and presents, from a cravat down to a pair of
stockings. I think our bishops were under the same rule. The last time I saw
this rule izaposed was at the Baltimore Conference, held at the Stone Chapel, in
May 1800. In my mind I yet see the sainted Wilson Lee hand over his fees and
resents, The world never saw a more disinterested, cross-bearing, and self-sacri-
fi: ing set of ministers than the early Methodist preachers. Nothing but a deep
aml abiding conviction of duty could induce them to volunteer in such a work,
In those days the Methodists believed in a special call to the work of the ministry.

The number of Conferences was increased from six to seven
by adding the New York. The bishops were allowed to admit
colored preachers to deacon’s orders under certain limitations
and restrictions. This rule was never inserted in the Discipline.
The first colored deacon ordained under it was Richard Allen.
Richard Whatcoat Elected Bishop. 47?

 

of Philadelphia, who led the first secession of colored people
from the Church, in 1816, and was elected the first bishop of the
African Methodist Episcopal Church.

Bishop Coke was present at the General Conference, with an
earnest request from the Old Country that he might be allowed
to return. To this the Conference assented, on the condition
that he come back at the end of four years. The English, and
especially the Irish, Conferences entreated for a continued
share in his labors. “They saw in him,” says their historian,
“the spirit of missionary enterprise, combined with a perfect
knowledge of the details of. the work, together with a quenchless
zeal, which was altogether marvelous. They clearly perceived
that the Methodism of England needed such a man, and sought
to reclaim him.”

Bishop Asbury “thought of nothing else but the resignation
of his office;” and it is said he went to this Conference with his
valedictory address for the occasion written out. But the first
intimation of such a step was checked by the Conference, and
they adopted resolutions of a highly complimentary character,
thanking him for his distinguished services, and earnestly ask-
ing him to continue them, as far as his health would permit. To
this he consented, and the Conference resolved to elect and con-
secrate an additional bishop.

Prior to the election a discussion arose as to the powers of the
new bishop, and whether he should be considered subordinate
to Bishop Asbury, or his equal. Coke moved that the new bish-
op, in the absence of Asbury, should present the appointments
to the Conference for their consideration and revision; but find-
ing the motion distasteful to the preachers, asked leave to with-
draw it. The Conference, after two days’ discussion, stood by
the original plan, and resolved that the new bishop should be a
joint superintendent.

On the first ballot no one had a majority of votes; on the sec-
ond there was a tie between Jesse Lee and Richard Whatcoat; on
the third ballot Richard Whatcoat was elected by a majority of
four votes. A looker-on, who subsequently became an active
evangelist, gives us a particular account of the Sunday following:

Sunday, the 18th, was a great day in Baltimore, among the Methodists. The or-

dination sermon was preached by Rev. Thomas Coke, LL.D., in Light Street
Church. Crowds at an early hour thronged the temple. The Doctor preached
478 History of Methodism.

 

from Rev. ii. 8: “And unto the angel of the Church. in Smyrna write: These
things saith the first and the last, which was dead, and is alive,’ etc. After the
sermon, which. was adapted to the occasion, Richard Whatcoat was ordained a
bishop in the Church of God by the imposition of the hands of Dr. Coke and
Bishop Asbury, assisted by several elders. Never were holy hands laid upon a
holier head. In those days we went “out into the highways and hedges and com-
pelled them to come in.” That afternoon Jesse Lee preached in the market-
house on Hyward’s Hill, from John xvii. 3: “And this is life eternal, that they
mighi know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent.” The
Lord was there in « powerful manner. Several were converted. During this
Conference I became acquainted with many choice spirits, both among the minis-
try and laity; among the rest, Dr. Thomas Coke. I not only had the pleasure of
hearing the Doctor preach, and make motions and speeches in the Conference, but.
also of dining with him and Bishop Asbury. The Doctor was a short man, and
rather corpulent. He had a beautiful face, and it was full of expression, a sweet
smile often playing over his features. His eyes were dark and his look very
piercing. His voice was soft and full of melody, unless raised to a very high
pitch, and then it was harsh, discordant, and squeaking. His conversational pow-
ers were great; he was very entertaining.*

Jesse Lee felt aggrieved at a report which came to his ears
after the election. If the cynical philosopher was right who di-
vided mankind into two classes—those who do something, and
those who find fault with what is done—it would not be hard to
ascertain the class to which our Virginian belonged. He had
done too much to escape-the censure and envy of some who swell
the ranks of the other class. The report was this: “That Bishop
Asbury said that Brother Lee had imposed himself on him and
on the Connection for eighteen months past, and he would have
got rid of him long ago if he could.” He went promptly to the
Bishop, who as promptly denied the charge, and renewed his re-
quest urgently for the continuance of Lee’s services; for he felt
that he and “Brother Whatcoat would be unequal to the demands
of the enlarged Connection.” Lee concludes his account: “So we
went into Conference, and he spoke to the subject, and denied
the charge, and said he was thankful for my past services, and
did wish for them in the Conferences in future. We traced the
report until we fixed it on T—— L , and he did not clear
himself.” +

The trend of opinion is indicated not only in what is done, but
in what fails to be done, by a legislative body. Here are a few

items of the latter kind:

* Reminiscences of Rev. Henry Boehm. t This T—— L-— afterward took
“orders” in another Church.

 

 
Great Awakening at Conference. 479

 

Brother Wells moved that the new bishop, in stationing the preachers, be aid-
ad by a committee of not less than three nor more than four preachers, chosen by
the Conference. Voted out, next day.”

Brother Tolleson’s motion for a delegated General Conference was called up,
and lost by a great majority. :

Brother Ormond moved “that the Yearly Conferences be authorized to nomi-
nate and elect their own presiding elders.” This was voted out.

Ormond was a North Carolinian by birth, and enjoys the rare
distinction of a Southern radical; for after being negatived on
one of the questions that persistently disturbed the Church’s
peace, he brought forward the other in characteristic style:

And whereas it is further observed that the rulesnow existing among us pre-
vents our members increasing the number of their slaves by purchase, and toler-
ates an increase of number by birth, which children are often given to the ene-
mies of the Methodists. My mind being seriously impressed with these and sey-
eral other considerations, I move that this General Conference take the moment-
ous subject of slavery into consideration, and make such alterations in the old rule
as may be thought proper.

The momentous subject was taken up a few days afterward:

Brother Snethen moved that this General Conference do resolve that from this
time forth no slave-holder shall be admitted into the Methodist Episcopal Church.
Negatived.

Brother Bloodgood moved that all negro children belonging to the members of
the Methodist Society, who shall be born in slavery after the fourth day of July,
1800, shall be emancipated: males at years, and females at —— years.
Negatived.*

One of the features of the General Conference of 1800 was the
religious interest which attended it. “I believe,” writes Lee, “we
never had so good a General Conference before; we had the
greatest speaking and the greatest union of affections that we
ever had on a like occasion. The revival of religion which took
place in Baltimore, during the Conference, began particularly in
Old Town, where the people held meetings in a private house,
and some of the preachers attended them in the afternoon of
each day. Several were converted. The work then began tc
spread, and souls were converted in the different meeting-houses,
and in different private houses, both by day and by night. The
old Christians were wonderfully stirred up to cry to God more
earnestly, and the preachers that tarried in town for a few daye
were all on fire of love. Such a time of refreshing from the
presence of the Lord had not been felt in that town for some

 

 

*See Journal of General Conference.
480 History of Methodism.

 

years.” Asbury says: “The unction that attended the word was
great; more than one hundred souls, at different times and places,
professed conversion during the sitting of Conference. I was
weary, but sat very close in Conference. My health is better
than when we began.” Bishop: Whatcoat tells the story: “We
had a most blessed time, and much preaching, fervent prayers,
and strong exhortations through the city; while the high praises
of a gracious God reverberated from street to street and from
house to house. It was tliought that not less than two hundred
were converted during the Conference.”

The revival at the Philadelphia Conference, which began its
session at Duck Creek, in June, was one of the most remarkable
that has taken place in the Church’s history. Preaching and
prayer-meeting and love-feast ocenpied the church, while the
Conference met in a private dwelling. One who was present
says: “Meetings were held day and night with rarely any inter-
mission. One meeting in the church continued forty-five hours
without cessation. Many were converted in private houses, and
at family prayer, as well as in the house of the Lord. This re-
vival did immense good; the preachers returned to their work
like flames of fire.”

This was a good beginning for the new bishop, and a renewing
of strength to his senior. They completed the round of Annual
Conferences, and then turned their faces to the West, and took
Wm. McKendree with them,.to be left there in charge of that
field, known as the Western Conference, which included the
Valley of the Mississippi.
CHAPTER XXXIII.

William McKendree: His Entrance upon the Ministry; Transferred to the West
—Camp-meetings—Great Revival—Bodily Agitations—Methodism Planted in
Missouri and Illinois; in Mississippi and Louisiana—Philip Cox, Enoch George,

twin, Walker, Blackman, Tobias Gibson—Conference in Ohio—Results.

, ILLIAM McKENDREE was born in King William

county, Virginia, July 6, 1757. His parents were both
natives of the same State. His father was a planter, and Will-
iam was brought up in the same occupation. The schools to
which he had access gave him a fair English education, so that
he was for a time employed in teaching. Nature endowed him
with a fine and pleasing person and address, a quick apprehension,
a sound and discriminating mind, a refined taste, and that element
of all true greatness known as common sense. Piety quickened
and developed his intellectual powers in a marked degree. The
concentration of mind and heart upon a great vocation, and the
drawing “all his cares and studies this way,” made an era in his
mental as well as in his moral history. The following is his own
account of his early life:

I do not recollect to have sworn more than one profane oath in my life, yet, as
far back as memory serves, I am conscious of the prevalence of evil passions—of a
heart disposed to wickedness—so that, notwithstanding the restraints by which I
was kept within the bounds of a respectable morality, my heart was far from be-
ing right with God. It was “deceitful and desperately wicked.” Of this deplor-
able state of things I became exquisitely sensible by reading the Holy Scriptures

‘in school when I was a small boy; and with the simplicity of a child I yielded to
the dictates of conscience, refrained from what appeared to be wrong, and asa
child endeavored to imitate those holy men of God as set forth in the Scriptures.
I would frequently seek solitary places in the woods, there fall upon my face and
weep freely while I thought I was talking to Jehovah. This practice I followed
until I became so serious that I was taken notice of. The school-master (who was
a’yain man, and boarded at my father’s) and others began to laugh at me, and
make remarks, and finally laughed me out of all my seriousness. I then heed-
les pursued the pleasures of the world, and do not remember to have had any
aicre serious impressions for several years. My own experience has led me to care
for those who are under religious impressions in their early days.

Some time after the Methodist preachers came into the neighborhood, a re-
vival of religion took place; my father, mother, and several others, became pro-
fessors of religion, and many joined the Church. I was then deeply convinced of
sin, and resolved to set out and serve the Lord.*

 

* The Life and Times of McKendree. by Bishop Paine.
31 (481)
482 History of Methodism.

In conformity with this resolution, as a seeker of religion he
was received on trial, but halting by the way, he failed to obtain
the prize. His undisguised representation of his case shows the
danger of awakened persons associating with companions, how-
ever civil, who neither fear nor love God: “But my attachment
to worldly associates, who were civil and respectful in their de-
portment, had grown with my growth, and my conviction was not
accompanied with sufficient firmness to dissolve the connection;
and their conduct being accommodated to my reformed manners,
I continued to enjoy the friendship both of the Society and of
the world, but in a very imperfect degree. They continued to
counteract and impair each other, until the love of the world
prevailed, and my relish for genuine piety departed. I peace-
ably retired from the Society, while my conduct continued to
secure their friendship.”

Young McKendree bore his part in the Revolution, and was at
Yorktown when Cornwallis surrendered. In 1820 he passed
over the ground with a friend and showed him where his camp
was. A spell of sickness brought him into the jaws of death.
Ale prayed as sinners pray when great fear is upon them, and
vowed as they vow. But his confidence in his own sincerity was
shaken by the startling question, suggested he knew not how:
“Tf the Lord would raise you up and convert your soul, would
you be willing to goand preach the gospel?” He shrunk from
the answer, and trembled at this test of obedience. With return-
ing strength and health he went back to the vain world with les-
sened confidence in promises of amendment made under fear:

In this situation I continued until the great revival of religion took place in
Brunswick Circuit, under Mr. John Easter, in 1787. On a certain Sabbath I vis-
ited a gentleman who lived in the neighborhood; he and his lady were going tc
church, to hear a Mr. Gibson, a local Methodist preacher. The church was
open to any occupant—the clergy having abandoned their flo-xs and the
country and fied home to England. My friend declined going to church, ser
a servant with his wife, and we spent the time in reading a comedy and drink ing
wine. Mrs. —— staid late at church, but at last, when we were impatient for
dinner, she returned, and brought strange things to our ears. With astonishment
flushing her countenance she began to tell whom she left “in a flood of tears,”
who were “down on the floor,” who were “converted,” wliat an “uproar” was
going on among the people—cries for mercy and shouts for joy, etc. She also 1n-
iormed us that Mr. John Easter was to preach at that place on the following
Tuesday. My heart was touched at her representation. I resolved to seek relig-
icn, and began in good earnest to pray for it that evening.
McKendree Converted—Enters Upon his Life Work. 483

 

Tuesday I went to church, fasting and praying. Mr. Easter preached from
John iii. 19-22, “And this is the condemnation, that light has come into the
world,” etc. The word reached my heart. From this time I had no peace of
mind; I was completely miserable. My heart was broken up. A view of God’s
forbearance, and of the debasing sin of ingratitude, of which I had been guilty in
grieving the Spirit, overwhelmed me with confusion. Now my conscience roared
like a lion. “The pains of hell got hold of me.” I concluded that I had com-
mittel the “unpardonable sin,” and had thoughts of giving up all for lost. For
three days I might have said, “My bed shall comfort me, then thou scarest me
with dreams, and terrifiest me through visions, so that my soul chooseth stran-
gling and death rather than life.” But in the evening of the third day deliverance
came, While Mr. Easter was preaching J was praying as well as I could, for I
was alinost ready to despair of mercy. Suddenly doubts and fears fled, hope
sprung up in my soul, and the burden was removed. I knew that God was love,

‘that there was mercy even for me, and I rejoiced in silence.

Mr. Easter confidently asserted that God had converted my soul, but I did not
believe it, for I had formed to myself an idea of conversion—how it would come,
and what must follow; and what I then felt did not answer to my idea; therefore
I did not believe that I was converted, but I knew there was mercy for me, and
[ greatly rejoiced in that. However, I soon found myself in an uncomfortable
condition, for I immediately began to seek and to expect a burden of sin answer-
able to my idea, in order to get converted. But the burden was gone, and I could
pot recover it. With desire I sought rest, but I thought that greater distress than
I had felt must precede that blessing, and therefore refused to be comforted. And
thus for several weeks J experienced all the anguish of grasping at an object of
the greatest importance, and missing my aim—of laying hold of life and salva-
tion, then falling back into the vortex of disappointment and distress. But deliv-
erance was at hand. Mr. Easter came round, and his Master came with him, and
in the time of meeting the Lord, who is merciful and kind, blessed me with the
witness of the Spirit; and then I could rejoice indeed—yes, with joy unspeakable
and full of glory! Within twenty-four hours after this I was twice tempted to
think my conversion was delusive, and not genuine, because I did not receive the
witness of the Spirit at the same time. But I instantly applied to the throne of
grace, and, in the duty of prayer, the Lord delivered me from the enemy; and
from that day to this I have never doubted my conversion. I have pitied, and do
still pity, those who, under the influence of certain doctrines, are led to give the
preference to a doubting experience, and therefore can only say, “If I ever was
converted,” “I hope I am converted,” “7 fear I never was converted,” etc. but
san never say, “We know that we have passed from death unto life.”

The same preacher by whom he had believed followed, “not
long after,” with a sermon on sanctification. McKendree exam-
ined the doctrine, and found it true; examined himself, and
“found remaining corruption, and diligently sought the blessing
held forth.” In its pursuit he says, “ My soul grew in grace and
in the faith that overcomes the world;” and he thus concludes
the description of this phase of his experience: “One morniiy
484 History of Methodism.

 

I walked into the field, and: while J was musing, such an over-
whelming power of the Divine Being overshadowed me as I had
never experienced before. Unable to stand, I sunk to the ground
more than filled with transport. My cup ran over, and I shouted
aloud. Had it not been for a new set of painful exercises which
now came upon me, I might have rejoiced ‘evermore;’ but my
heart was enlarged, and J saw more clearly than ever before the
danger of those in an unconverted state. For such persons |
prayed with anxious care. At times, when called upon to pray
in public my soul would get into an agony, and the Lord would
in great compassion pour out his Spirit. Souls were convicted
and converted, and Zion rejoiced abundantly in those days.
Without a thought of preaching, I began to tell my acquaint-
ances what the Lord had done for me and could do for them.
It had its effect, and lasting impressions were made. Thus I
was imperceptibly led on until the preachers and people hegan
to urge me to speak more publicly.”

From preaching he drew back. It was too high, it was too
heavy. The thought of appearing in public as God’s embassa-
dor overwhelmed him. His father saw his silent struggle and
perplexity, and gently warned him not to quench the Spirit.
Again his spiritual father came to his help: “In the ninth month
ufter I received the witness of my acceptance, the Conference
came on. It was held in Petersburg. Mr. Easter requested me
to fix myself and attend. I did so, and he kindly took me to his
lodging. Upon his going to the Conference-room he invited me
to come up at a certain hour and see the preachers. I went ac-
cordingly, and the first thing after prayer was to read out the
preachers’ stations, and I was appointed to Mecklenburg Circuit,
with Philip Cox. This was an unexpected shock. When dis-
missed I was walking in another room, when my presiding elder
came in and, discovering my agitation, took me in his arms and
in the most feeling manner said, ‘ While you were standing he.
fore the Conference I believe God showed me that he had a work
for you to do.’ This had the most happy effect. It determined
my unsettled mind.”

McKendree has entered upon his life work, and we leave his
history to develop with the Church. Much depends on a young
preacher’s first associations in the ministry, and he was fortu-
nate inthis. Philip Cox was an Englishman who led out into the
Mecklenburg Circuit—Philip Cox and Enuch George. 485

 

itinerancv not afew chief ministers. The next year (1789) Cox
called out Enoch George, a young man even more diffident than
McKendree. He introduced him to Asbury, and the Bishop
sent him with a letter to a preacher who was forming a circuit
at the head-waters of the French Broad and the Catawba, three
hundred miles distant. “I was astonished and staggered,” says
George, “at the prospect of this work, but resorted to my tried
friend Cox, who animated me with his advice and directions, and
I set off with his benedictions and the blessing of the Lord.
Thus,” he adds, “I began my itinerancy.” Asbury knew that if
any thing could be made of the “beardless boy”’ presented to him
by Cox, the heroic work of the frontier would do it. Cox was a
very small man. At one time he felt so poorly that he thought
he must quit the itinerancy; but he had himself weighed, and
found that he weighed a hundred pounds. He then said, “It
shall never be said that I have quit traveling while I weigh a
hundred pounds.” He married when he was upward of fifty
years old, but continued to travel until he died. Just before his
death (1793) he observed that it was such a day of peace and
comfort to his soul as he had seldom felt.

Philip Cox gave such attention to selling and distributing
books and tracts that he was called the Assistant Book Agent.
He bore a conspicuous part in the great revival of 1787 that
brought in McKendree. Hight hundred were converted in
Amelia Circuit, sixteen hundred in Sussex, and eighteen hun-
dred in Brunswick. While Philip Cox was preaching at the fu-
neral of a little child, on the text, “ Except ye be converted, aud
become as little children, ye cannot enter into the kingdom of
heaven,” to a congregation of a hundred, “fifty of whom were
old professors, out of the other fifty the Lord spoke peace to
thirty before the meeting broke up.” Cox, having been lamed
by an accident, preached this sermon sitting on a table. The
next day he preached again, in the woods, sitting in a chair
placed on a table, and more than sixty souls were converted.

The genuineness of this gréat work “received a thousand at-
testations in the altered lives, persevering fidelity, and increas-
ing holiness of those who were brought from darkness unto light,
and from the power of Satan unto God.” It was a great ad-
vantage to begin one’s ministry amid such scenes of saving
power, and under such a guide and leader as Philip Cox.
486 History of Methodism.

 

McKendree, after preaching on circuits in his native State and
the Carolinas, was put in charge of a district which extended
from the Chesapeake Bay over the Blue Ridge and terminated at
the foot of the Alleghany Mountains. Next, his admirable preach-
ing aud administrative abilities found scope in a district of sim-
ilar dimensions in the Baltimore Conference. In the fall of 1800
Bishops Asbury and Whatcoat passed through his field of labor,
and took him with them to the Western Conference, which
met at Bethel, Kentucky, in October. McKendree was aceus-
tomed to “keep house in his saddle-bags.” It was said he could
pack more into them, and in better order, than other men. He
therefore went at three hours’ notice. He was appointed to the
oversight of the whole Conference in the character of a presid-
ing elder of the district. If opportunities make great men, here
was an opportunity. Huis character devoloped, his reputation and
usefulness grew, and his health was established.

Quitting Greenbrier, and passing through Wythe Court-house,
they “began to bend for Holston.” “My mind,” says Asbury,
“hath been kept in peace; I had enough to do to drive; I could
think but littlh—only now and then sending up a message to
heaven.” Leaving his chaise with Vanpelt, he borrows a horse,
and inducts the presiding elder into wilderness-travels by the
way of Bean’s Station and Cumberland Gap. At Conference
ten traveling preachers were present; the session lasted but two
days. Two were admitted on probation, one member located,
fourteen local and four traveling preachers were ordained.

After the session Asbury, Whatcoat, and McKendree traveled
and preached together from the center of Kentucky to Nashville.
On the journey McKendree, in the grand field where he was to
develop and which was to be developed by him, located a church
in the “barrens,” a region rich in soil but scarce of trees. One
of his first appointments was to have a local preacher join him
there and hold a meeting; “and in the course of the year a soci-
ety was formed, and a gracious work commenced, and they built
a church; but as the timber was low, logs could not be found of
sufficient length to build a four-square house large enough to
hold the congregation, so they built a house with twelve corners.”

Asbury and his company lodged a few miles in the country on
Saturday night, where he preached. “Brothers McGee, Sugg,
Jones, and Speer, local preachers, came to meet me. We had a
The Great Revival Year in the West. 487

 

sinall shout in the camp of Israel.” The Rev. William Lambuth
was the preacher in charge of Cumberland.* Asbury says:

October 19, 1800.—I rode to Nashville, long heard of but never seen by me
until now. Some thought the congregation would be small, but I believed it
would be large. Not less than one thousand people were in and out of the stone
church, which if floored, ceiled, and glazed, would be a grand house. We had
three hours’ public exercises. Mr. McKendree upon “The wages of sin is death;”
myself on Rom. x. 14, 15; Brother Whatcoat on “When Christ, who is our life,
shall appear, then shall ye also appear with him in glory.” We returned the
sane evening, and had a night meeting at Mr. Dickinson’s.

His old North Carolina friend, and the Gaius of the Church,
had moved to the West a year before, and opened a farm twelve
miles from Nashville; and he adds: “I had a feeling sight of my
dear old friend Green Hill, and his wife. Who would have
thought we should ever meet in this distant land? I had not
time, as formerly, to go to their house to eat and sleep.”

Next day they were in the midst of new scenes—a camp-meet-
ing, at Drake’s Creek Meeting-house. It was under the direc-
tion of five Presbyterian preachers—Craighead, Hodge, Rankin,
McGee, and Adair. “A sacramental solemnity” of four days
was being concluded. The visitors were invited to preach.
Asbury says: “We came in, and Brother McKendree preached
upon Jer. iv. 14; after him Brother Whatcoat upon ‘We know
that we are of God;’ I also spoke on ‘The work of God.’”

Tuesday, 21.—Yesterday, and especially during the night, were witnessed
scenes of deep interest. In the intervals between preaching the people refreshed
, themselves and horses, and returned upon the ground. The stand was in the open
air, embosomed in a wood of lofty beech-trees. The ministers of God—Method-
ists and Presbyterians—united their labors, and mingled with the child-like sim-
plicity of primitive times. Fires blazing here and there dispelled the darkness,
and the shouts of the redeemed captives, and the cries of precious souls struggling
into life, broke the silence of midnight. The weather was delightful—as if heav-
en smiled, whilst mercy flowed in abundant streams of salvation to perishing sin-
ners. We suppose there were at least thirty souls converted at this meeting. 4
rejoice that God is visiting the sons of the Puritans, who are candid enough to
a ‘knowledge their obliga‘ions to the Methodists.

This is known as the great revival year in the West. No re-
markable preacher like Whitefield passed through the land, but

 

* His son, Rev. John R. Lambuth, built the first Methodist church in Mobile
1827), called in later days the “Old Bee-hive;” end his grandson, Rev. J. W
T.ambuth, has been a missionary to China since 182.
488 History of Methodism.

 

the uncommon work seems to have begun and continued in the
use of the common means of grace. Worldliness, immorality,
infidelity, were prevalent and powerful. It required a mighty
shaking to save the land. To arrest and to impress the public
mind a striking display of divine influence was necessary, and
the God of all grace was pleased to grant it, Ministers had
faithfully preached the word and endured hardness. Sowers
had gone forth weeping, bearing precious seed. But immigra-
tior brought in an overwhelming population, and new scenes and
adventures absorbed the people. Iniquity abounded. When the
enemy came in like a flood, then the Lord lifted up a banner.
The Church had for years barely been able to hold its own—here
standing still and there receding. Power from on high came;
feebleness was made strong, and like a conquering army it moved
forward. No change in political administration, no turn or
opening of the currents of trade or travel, could possibly have
such an effect upon the West as this revival. It began within
the old Cumberland Circuit, where McHenry and’ Wilkerson
and Page, and others like them, had bestowed much labor. In
1798 William Burke served it alone. He says: “I had not the
pleasure of seeing the face of a traveling preacher through the
entire year. The circuit had become very large, the country was
settling very fast, and many. additions to the Church made by
certificate. During this year many local preachers settled in
the bounds of the circuit: the Rev. John McGee at Dixon
Springs, and the Rey. Jesse Walker on White’s Creek.” Settled
within the same territory were three or four earnest Presbyte-
rian preachers, one of whom was the younger brother of John
McGee. These two brothers were honored instruments in pro-
moting the revival and uniting the two denominations init. They
were born in Guilford county, North Carolina, of Presbyterian
parents. The elder brother became a Methodist preacher,
and the younger, converted under his ministry, took orders in
th» Presbyterian Church; but they continued of one heart and
oue :nind. The Hon. and Rev. Green Hill, a few years before
locating in Wilson county, went on a tour through the lower part
of the Cumberland Circuit, preaching and baptizing. “Ata new
town on thé south side of Cumberland River, twelve miles below
Clarksville,” he preached, and says: “I had much liberty in speak.
ing. The people were attentive, and flexible as melted wax. J]
Camp-meetings and the Revival. 485

 

nope good was done.” Four days late: “We then went up
to Winters’s (thirteen miles), and I preached to an attentive
congregation. Three Baptist preachers and one Presbyterian
preacher were present, and all spoke in turn, after I had preached,
but without controversy, and parted very affectionately.”

It was into this neighborhood that John Mc(ee, with his
Presbyterian brother, came on a preaching tour. We give Jchn
McGee’s account of it:

We loved, and prayed, and preached together; and God was pleased to own
and bless us and our labors. In the year 1799 we agreed to make a tour through
the Barrens, toward Ohio, and concluded to attend a sacramental solemnity in the
Rev. Mr. McGready’s congregation, on Red River, in our way. When we came
there I was introduced by my brother, and received an invitation to address the con-
gregation from the pulpit; and I know not that ever God favored me with more light
and liberty than he did each day while I endeavored to convince the people they
were sinners, and urged the necessity of repentance, and of a change from nature
to grace, and held up to their view the greatness, freeness, and fullness of salva-
tion, which was in Christ Jesus, for lost, guilty, condemned sinners. My brother
and the Rev. Mr. Hodge preached with much animation and liberty. The people
felt the force of truth, and tears ran down their cheeks; but all was silent until
Monday, the last day of the feast. Mr. Hodge gave a useful discourse; an inter-
mission was given, and: I was appointed to preach. While Mr. Hodge was preach-
ing a woman in the east end of the house got an uncommon blessing, broke through
order, and shouted for some time, and then sat down in silence. At the close of the
sermon Messrs. Hodge, McGready, and Rankin went out of the house; my brother
and myself sat still; the people seemed to have no disposition to leave their seats.
My brother felt such a power come on him that he quit his seat and sat down on
the floor of the pulpit (I suppose, not knowing what he did). A power which
caused me to tremble was upon me. There was a solemn weeping all over the
house. Having a wish to preach, I strove against my feelings; at length I rose
up and told the people that I was appointed to preach, but there was a greater
than I preaching, and exhorted them to let the Lord God Omnipotent reign in
their hearts, and to submit to him, and their souls should live. Many broke si-
lence; the woman in the east end of the house shouted tremendously. I left the
pulpit to go to her, and as I went along through the people it was suggested to me,
“You know these people are much for order, they will not bear this confusion; go
back and be quiet.” I turned to go back, and was near falling. The power of
God was strong upon me; I turned again, and losing sight of the fear of nian, |
went through the house shouting and exhorting with all possible ecstasy and en-
ergy, and the floor was soon covered with the slain. Their cries for mercy pierced
the heavens, and mercy came down. Some found forgiveness, and many went
away from that meeting feeling unutterable agonies of soul for redemption in the
blood of Jesus. This was the beginning of that glorious revival of religion in
this country which was so great a blessing to thousands; and from this meeting
camp-meetings took their rise. One man, for want of horses for all his family to
cide and attend the meeting, fixed up his wagon, in which he took them and hi«
490 History of Methodism.

 

provisions, and lived on the ground throughout the meeting. He had left his
worldly cares behind him, and had nothing to do but attend on divine service.

The next meeting was a camp-meeting. A number of wagons loaded with peo-
ple came together and camped on the ground, and the Lord was present and ap-
proved of their zeal by sealing a pardon to about forty souls. The next camp-
meeting was on the Ridge, where there was an increase of people, and carriages
of different descriptions, and a great many preachers of the Presbyterian and Meth-
odist orders, and some of the Baptist—but the latter were generally opposed to
the work. Preaching commenced, and the people prayed, and the power of God
attended. The nights were truly awful. The camp-ground was well illuminated;
the people were differently exercised—some exhorting, some shouting, some pray-
ing, and some crying for mercy, while others lay as dead men on the ground. At
this meeting it was computed that one hundred souls were converted. But per-
haps the greatest meeting we ever witnessed in this country took place shortly
after, on Desha’s Creek, near Cumberland River. Many thousands of people at-
tended. The mighty power and mercy of God were manifested. The people fell
before the word like corn before a storm of wind, and many rose from the dust
with divine glory shining in their countenances, and gave glory to God in such
strains as made the hearts of stubborn sinners to tremble; and after the first gust
of praise, they would break forth in volleys of exhortation.

Camp-meetings grew out of the revival, and became a means
of prolonging and extending it. Originally designed to meet
the wants of a sparsely settled country, and to make a small sup-
ply of preaching go as far as possible, there is a principle which
makes them useful to other communities. The moral and relig-
ious power of association, cessation from labor, abstraction of
mind and body from home-life and its cares, concentrated atten
tion to one thing, and that the most important of all things, for
days together, under circumstances most favorable for instruc-
tion and exhortation—these have commended the camp-meeting
to old and dense communities, and made it a religious institution
of our current century. From the wagon-cover and rude arbor
with fresh-scented leaves, located where there is much water for
man and beast; from the straw-floored tent and pine-knot fire-
stand, camp-meetings, in many places, have come to represent
taste and comfort, and even luxury, in their structures and ar-
rangements. In this direction lies their danger. They may. be
useful still, but their golden days date back to virgin forests
and new settlements, when men came to the preaching at a time
the preaching could not go to them.

From Tennessee through Southern Kentucky the revival
spread until 1801, when its marvels were seen and felt in middle
Kentucky; and with rudely improvised camp-meetings the scens
The Kentucky Wilderness Ablaze. 491

 

extended into the North-west, and moved eastward. By 1802
camp-meetings were established east of the mountains, and from
New England to Mississippi have continued to this day. Tens
of thousands were awakened and converted; scoffers were
strangely rebuked; fear fell upon the people, and many fled to
escape yielding. In America, as in England, bodily agitations
and exercises attended spiritual excitement, and were equally an
offense to some and a wonder to all.* In this respect no locali-
ties in the West exceeded those in which Presbyterian ministers
were settled. William Burke describes a quarterly-meeting for
Lexington Circuit, in June, 1801: “On Saturday we had some
indications of a good work. On Saturday night we had preach-
ing in different parts of the neighborhood, which was the custom;
so that every local preacher and exhorter was employed in the
work. Success attended the meetings, and on Sunday morning
they came in companies, singing and shouting on the road. Love-
feast was opened Sunday morning at eight o’clock, and such was
the power and presence of God that the doors were thrown open,
and the work became general, and continued till Monday after-
noon, during which time numbers experienced justification by
faith in the name of Jesus Christ. The work now spread into
the several circuits. Presbyterian congregations were univers-
ally wakened up—McNamer’s, on Cabin Creek; Barton Stone’s,
at Cane Ridge; Reynolds’s, in Paris; Lyle’s, at Salem; Ran-
kin’s, at Walnut Hills; Blythe’s, at Lexington and Woodford;
Walsh’s, at Cane Run.”

A well known-writer of Kentucky, in the Methodist Magazine
of sixty years ago, describes the advent of the revival:

The Rev. Wm. McKendree, presiding elder of the district, was in the lower
part of the State about the commericement of the revival, and became much en-
gaged init. In the latter part of 1800, or early in 1801, he came up to the center
of the State, and in many places was the first to bear the tidings of these singular
meetings, which had recently commenced, and had so greatly attracted the atte i-
tion of multitudes. I shall never forget the looks of the people who had assem-
bled in a congregation composed mostly of Methodists and Presbyterians, and their
adherents, when, after the conclusion of a pathetic sermon, he gave an interesting
statement of the progress of it from what he had seen. Whilst he spoke the very
sensations of his soul glowed in his countenance. He described them in their
native simplicity: he told of the happy conversion of hundreds; how the people
continued in their exercises of singing, praying, and preaching on the ground,
surrounded by wagons and tents, for days and nights together; that many were w

 

*See pages 158-161 for an explanation of these phenomena.
492 History of Methodism.

 

affected that they fell to the ground like men slain in battle. The cries of the
penitents and rapture of the healed appeared to be brought to our view; and that
the work, instead of declining, was progressing to the interior. After this de-
scription given by him, it was unnecessary to exhort the faithful to look for the
like among themselves. Their hcarts had already begun to beat in unison with
his, whilst sinners were generally melted into tears. As for my own feelings,
though a stranger to religion at that time, they will never be forgotten—I felt,
ind I wept.

These meet.ags began, as the season permitted, to make their gradual approach
toward the center of the State. It was wonderful to see what an effect their ap-
proach made upon the minds of the people. Here in the wilderness were thou-
sends and tens of thousands hungry for the bread of life. A general move was
visible in the congregations previously to the arrival of these meetings. The de-
vout Christians appeared to be filled with hope. Their hearts were greatly en-
largéd to pray for the prosperity of Zion. The formalists were troubled with very
uneasy sensations; backsliders became terrified; the wicked in general were either
greatly alarmed or struck with solemn awe. Indeed, such was the commotion
that every circle of the community appeared to have their whole attention arrest-
ed. Many were the conjectures respecting these meetings. Things, however, did
not continue long to keep the attention of the people in suspense. The camp-
meetings began to approach nearer and nearer to the center; one meeting after an-
other was appointed in succession; and the number that attended them is almost
incredible to tell. When collected on the ground, and whilst the meetings con-
tinued, such crowds would be passing and repassing that the roads, paths, and
woods appeared to be literally strewn with people. Whole settlements and neigh-
borhoods would appear to be vacated; ‘and such was the draught from them that
it was only here and there that a solitary house would contain an aged house-
keeper—young and old generally pressing through every difficulty to see the
camp-meeting. ,

The Presbyterians and Methodists now united in them; hence it was that they
tock the name of General Camp-meetings. In consequence of so great a collec-
tion of people, it frequently happened that several preachers would be speaking
at once. Nor were they at a loss for pulpits—stumps and logs served as tempo-
rary stands from which to dispense the word of life. At night the whole scene
was awfully sublime.*

At Cabin Creek and Point Pleasant were memorable scenes.
he meeting at Indian Creek, Kentucky, began on the 24th of
July, and continued five days. The general camp-meeting, held
at Cane Ridge, seven miles from Paris, Bourbon county, began
on the 6th day of August, and continued a week. The Rev. Barton
W. Stone, a leading Presbyterian minister in Kentucky, describes
certain phenomena that prevailed: “The bodily agitations or ex
ercises attending the excitement in the beginning of this century
were various. and called by various names: as the falling exercise,

 

* Methodist Magazine, Vol. Il., pp. 221-273.
Wonderful Bodily Agitations. 493

 

the jerks, the dancing exercise, the laughing exercise, and so on.
The falling exercise was very common among all classes—the
saints and sinners of every age and grade, from the philosopher
to the clown. The subject of this exercise would generally, with
a piercing scream, fall like a log on the floor or earth, and ap-
pear as dead.” And “of thousands of similar casus” he gives
specimens. The “jerks” sometimes affected the whole body,
sometimes a part of the body. The same writer and eye-witness
continues:

When the head alone was affected, it would be jerked backward and forward
or from side to side, so quickly that the features of the face could not be distin-
guished. When the whole system was affected, I have seen the person stand in
one place and jerk backward and forward in quick succession, the head nearly
touching the floor behind and before. All classes—saints and sinners, the strong
as well as the weak—were thus affected. I have inquired of those thus affected
if they could not account for it, but some have told me that those were among the
happiest seasons of their lives. I have seen some wicked persons thus affected,
and all the time cursing the jerks, while they were thrown to the earth with vio-
lence. Though so awful to behold, I do not remember that any one of the thou-
sands I have seen thus affected ever sustained any injury in body. This was as
strange as the exercise itself.

The laughing exercise was frequent, confined solely to the religious. It was a
loud, hearty laughter, but it excited laughter in none that saw it. The subject
appeared rapturously solemn, and his laughter excited solemnity in saints and
sinners. It was truly indescribable.

The running exercise was nothing more than that persons feeling something
of these bodily agitations, through fear attempted to run away, and thus escape
from them; but it commonly happened that they ran not far before they fell, where
they became so agitated that they could not proceed any farther.

I knew a young physician, of a celebrated family, who came some distance to a
big meeting to see the strange things he had heard of. He and a young lady had
sportively agreed to watch over and take care of each other if either should fall.
At length the physician felt something very uncommon, and started from the con-
gregation to run into the woods. He was discovered running as for life, but did
not proceed far before he fell down, and there lay until he submitted to the Lord,
and afterward became a zealous member of the Church. Such cases were common,

“Thus have I,” says Mr. Stone, “given a brief account of the
wonderful things that appeared in the great excitement in the
beginning of this century. That there were many eccentricities
and much fanaticism in this excitement was acknowledged by
its warmest advocates; indeed, it would have been a wonder if
such things had not appeared in the circumstances of that time.
Yet the good effects were seen and acknowledged in every neigh-

2G
494 History of Methodism.

 

borhood and among the different sects. It silenced contention
and promoted unity for awhile.” *

McKendree’s presence in the West at this time was opportune.
He not only promoted the revival, in every healthful aspect, but
guided the Church safely and to the best issues in the midst of
its scenes. The floods were out. Methodism spread all sail, and
was stronger in numbers and in every other respect from that.
blessed day forward. The union between Methodists and Pres-
byterians for codperation was not allowed to end in disinte-
gration. This union extended to several things, including
joint committees empowered to make regulations and to appoint
preachers for the camp-meetings and sacramental occasions. Mc-
Kendree took care that its termination should be without odium
or loss. The peculiarities of Methodist usages and doctrines he
firmly maintained —class-meetings and love-feasts with closed
doors, and itinerant preaching; and where they had been sus-
pended or had faded out, he brought them into position again.
The Presbyterian confederates fared not so well.

Methodism has been defined “a missionary Church in organ-
ization, and a revival Church in spirit.” It was therefore well
adapted to the revival—its scenes and situation. The doctrines
that were preached in the revival were Methodistic: universal
redemption; free salvation, full salvation, present salvation; jus.
tification by faith; regeneration by the Holy Ghost; the witness
of the Holy Spirit that the believer is born of God; the joy of
religion, which is the fruit of the Spirit; and to-day is the day
of salvation. The methods were Methodistic: the presiding eld-
er marshaled his hosts at given points; the system of Church-
government furnished a leader, and the off-hand, extemporane-
ous style of the pulpit was all in place, Hence camp-meetings
were continued, and have become a Methodist peculiarity and

 

* Early Times in Middle Tennessee, pp. 70-75. t+ Our McKendree’s advice to
preachers and people was: “Hold fast to your doctrine and discipline. Others
may get along without rule, but we cannot.” This was wholesome and seasonable
advice, and was attended to. It gave offense to some, but was a means of keeping
us together, and we prospered. But, mournful to tell, those who got above creeds,
forms, and confessions, while they professed to be Christians, went from one ex-
treme to another, till three of their most zealous and flaming ministers (Presby -.
terian) landed in Shakerism; one, if not more, became an Arian; one, at least,
went among the Christ-ians; and the rest held fast, or returned to, their Confes-
siov. of Faith. (H. Smith’s Recollections of an Old Itinerant, pp 59, 60.)
The Western Conference. 495

 

possession. But there was an unusual strain on the other party.
Barton W. Stone afterward united with the followers of Alexan-
der Campbell, and Rankin, with two other Presbyterian ministers,
joined the Quakers. Among the members were Marshallites
and Stoneites: some who affected uncommon zeal denc unced
confessions of faith, Church discipline, and all such things
The Arminian tendency of the Cumberland Presbytery, ani theit
refusal to withhold license from preachers who were useful and
acceptable to the community, but were not classically educated,
brought about a serious and permanent division of the Presby-
terian Church, and resulted in the organization vf the Cumber-
land Presbyterian Church. “ But,” says an actor in those times,
“amidst these convulsions in the religious community, the Meth-
odists kept on the even tenor of their way, adhering to their dis-
cipline, and teaching that system of doctrine which was not only
the popular but the useful doctrine in the revival.”

When the Western Conference met at Strother’s, near Gallatin,
Tennessee, Oct. 2, 1802, Asbury was present, but too feeble to
preach. He says: “I was able to ordain, by employing Brother
McKendree to examine those who were presented, and to station
the preachers.” Two men of mark were admitted on trial—Jesse
Walker and James Gwin. The work had so enlarged that it was
found necessary to divide the one district into three: the Holston
District, with John Watson; and the Cumberland, with John
Page, as presiding elders. McKendree remained on the Kentucky
District. The Bishop being very infirm, and suffering from long
rides on horseback, McKendree accompanied him on his return
through East Tennessee. Asbury’s journal speaks of his kind-
ness on this trip, and frequently alludes to his preaching.
“Brother McKendree made mea tent of his own and John Wat-
son’s blankets, and happily saved me from taking cold, while I
slept about two hours under my grand marquee. Brother Mc.
Kendree threw ‘his cloak over the limb of a tree, and he and hia
companion took shelter underneath and slept also. I think I
will never more brave the wilderness without a tent.” After
some time he adds: “I have been sick for twenty-three days—
ah, the tale of woe I might relate! My dear McKendree had to
lift me up and down from my horse, like a helpless child. For
my sickness and suffering, I conceive I am indebted to sleeping
uncovered in the wilderness.”
496 History of Methodism.

 

At the Conference, October, 1803, near Cynthiana, Bishop As-
bury found it necessary to form a new district north-west of the
Ohio River, with William Burke as presiding elder, embracing
the extensive territory along the waters of the Muskingum, the
Little Kanawha, Hockhocking, Scioto, Miami, and Guyandotte
rivers. The Western Conference again met at Gerizim, in North-
ern Kentucky, October, 1804. The failure of the Bishops tc
reach the Conference devolved upon the body the election of its
president, and McKendree performed the duties of the office.
Several preachers were admitted on trial who subsequently at-
tained notoriety. Among them were Samuel Parker, the sweet
singer in Israel, and a fine specimen of “nature’s noblemen”
improved by divine grace—we shall meet with him in Mississippi,
and find his grave there; Peter Cartwright, a fearless, strong,
rough, and ready man; Miles Harper, a man of fine order of mind
by nature—a revivalist, and of great physical capacity to sustain
the labor of the saddle, the pulpit, and the altar; James Axley,
of rugged strength and candor, but withal devoted and kind;
and Thomas Lasley, whose missionary footsteps are yet seen,
with Axley’s, in South-western Louisiana.

The Cumberland District fell to McKendree the next year, and
he continued on it till the year 1808. He traveled from Nash-
ville through Kentucky and Illinois to Missouri, a distanc} of
fifteen hundred miles, in order to pass round and through his
district. Among the agents and helpers by which he developed
it two men deserve special mention. Jesse Walker was a Church
Extension Society within himself. One who knew him and his
work gives this description:

In all my intercourse with Bishop McKendree, there was no man whose name
was more frequently mentioned by him than Jesse Walker. He was to the Church
what Daniel Boone was to the early settler—always first, always ahead of every-
body else, preceding all others long enough to be the pilot of the new-comer.
Brother Walker is found first in Davidson county, Tennessee. He lived within
about three miles of the then village of Nashville, and was at that tixae a man
of family, poor, and to a considerable extent without education. He was sent by
the bishops and presiding elders in every direction where new work was to be cit
out. His natural vigor was almost superhuman. He did not seem to require
food and rest as other men; no day’s journey was long enough to tire him, no fare
too poor for him to live upon; to him, in traveling, roads and paths were useless
things—he blazed out his own course; no way was too bad for him to travel—if
his horse could not carry him he led him, and when his horse could not follow he
would leave him and take it on foot; and if night and a cabir did not come to-
Jesse Walker and James Gwin. 497

 

gether, he would pass the night alone in the wilderness, which with him was no
uncommon occurrence. Looking up the frontier settler was his chief delight;
and he found his way through hill and brake as by instinct—he was never lost;
and, as Bishop McKendree once said of him, in addressing an Annual Conference,
he never complained; and as the Church moved West and North, it seemed to
bear Walker before it. Every time you would hear from him, he was still farther
on; and when the settlements of the white man seemed to take shape and form,
he was next heard of among the Indian tribes of the North-west.*

Rev. James Gwin is a prominent figure in Western Method-
ism. He settled on the Cumberland in time to receive Barnabas
McHenry into his cabin, and with his wife joined the Church at
his first meeting. When a “horse load of books and pamphlets
abusing Methodist bishops and Methodist government” were sent
into the settlement to support Haw’s alliance with O’Kelley-
ism, he remained unmoved. A soldierly man, six feet high, with
a strong face and brave heart, Gwin was in the expedition of 1798
that broke up the Cherokee pirates at Nickajack and freed the
navigation of the Tennessee from Indian perils. He was one of
General Jackson’s chaplains at the Battle of New Orleans, and
Jackson, who had a very great esteem for him, put him in charge
of the wounded and of the hospital. Let us see James Gwin’s
account of these times:

Brother McKendree, having been appointed to the charge of the Western work,
soon formed a plan to carry the gospel to every neighborhood. He employed as
many local preachers and exhorters as he could to visit the uncultivated regions;
and they went forth, and the Lord went with them, and the tidings of salvation
were soon heard in almost every settlement. As I commenced about this time to
speak in public he sent me to visit new settlements, and I continued preaching
from place to place until our Conference came on; then I was received into the
traveling connection on trial. The business of Jesse Walker and myself, who
were received at the same time, was to enlarge the work. Brother Walker wem
on forming circuits west and north until he reached the Ohio River, and Brothe
McKendree devised a plan to carry the gospel west of the Ohio to the Mississippi
River. And as Louisiana had been purchased and brought into our government,
he sent Brothers Walker and Lewis Garrett to make a trial in that region, where
they soon succeeded in planting the standard of the cross.

September, 1806, Bishop Asbury’s journal says: “Saturday,
20th, Western Conference began, and ended on Monday. There
are fourteen hundred added within the bounds of this Conference
—fifty-five preachers stationed, all pleased. The brethren were
in want, so I parted with my watch, my coat, and my shirt.”

 

*A.L. P. Green, D.D., Biographical Sketches.
32
498 History of Methodism.

 

Having reconnoitered the frontier, and sent Jesse Walker to
Tllinois and John Travis to Missouri, McKendree follows them.
This narrative of his tour is by James Gwin:

In the year 1807, Brother McKendree, A. Goddard, and myself, set out to visit
the settlements of Illinois. We crossed the Ohio River, took the wilderness, and
traveled until night. Not being able to get to any habitation, we camped out.
Brother McKendree made us some tea, and we lay down under the hranches of 4
friendly beech, and had a pleasant night’s rest. Next morning we set ont early
traveled hard, and got some distance into the prairie, and here we took up for
the night. The next night we reached the first settlement, tarried a day there,
and crossing Kaskaskia River lodged with an old Brother Scott. Here we met
with Jesse Walker, who had formed a circuit and had three camp-meetings ap-
pointed for us. After resting a few days, we set out for the first camp-meeting.
In twelve miles we reached the Mississippi River, and having no means of taking
our horses across we sent them back, crossed the river, and, with our baggage on
our shoulders, went to the camp-ground, having fallen in with Brother Travis on
the way. About forty were converted at this meeting.

From this camp-meeting we returned across the river to Judge S——’s, who
refreshed us and sent forward our baggage in a cart to Brother Garrettson’s, where
our next meeting was to be held, which was called the Three Springs. We ar-
rived on Friday morning on the camp-ground, which was situated in a beautiful
grove surrounded by a prairie. A considerable congregation had collected, for
the news of the other meeting had gone abroad and produced much excitement.
Some were iu favor of the work, and others were opposed to it. A certain major
had raised a “company of lewd fellows of the baser sort” to drive us from the
ground. On Saturday, while I was preaching, the major and his company rode
into the congregation and halted, which produced confusion and alarm. I stopped
preaching for a moment and invited them to be off with themselves, and they
retired to the spring for a fresh drink of brandy. The major said he had heard
of these Methodists before; that they always broke up the peace of the people
wherever they went; that they preached against horse-racing, card-playing, and
every other kind of amusement. At three o’clock, while Brother Goddard and I
were singing a hymn, an awful sense of the divine power fell on the congregation,
when a man with a terrified look ran to me and said, “Are you the man that
keeps the roll?” I asked him what roll. “That roll,” he replied, “that people
put their names to who are going to heaven.” I supposed he meant the ¢lass-
paper, and sent him to Brother Walker. Turning to Jesse Walker, he said, Put
my name down, if you please,” and then fell to the ground. Others s/arted to rue
off and fell; some escaped. We were busy in getting the fallen to one place,
witch we effected about sunset, when the man who wished his name on the rol!
a1ose and ran off like a wild beast. Looking round upon the scene reminded me
of a battle-field after a heavy battle. All night the struggle went on. Victory
wis on the Lord’s side; many were converted, and by sunrise next morning there
was a shout of a king inthe camp. It was Sabbath morning, and I thought it
the most beautiful morning I had ever seen. A little after sunrise, the man that
had run off came back, wet with the dews of the night and with strong symptoms
of derangement. At eleven o’clock Brother McKendree administered the holy
McKendree’s Successful Leadership. 499

 

sacrament, and while he was dwelling upon its origin, nature, and design, some
of the major’s company were affected, and we had a melting time. After sacra-
ment, Brother McKendree preached, all the principal men of the country, and
all in reach who could get there, being present. His text was, “Come, let us rea-
son together;” and perhaps no man ever managed the subject better, or with more
effect. His reasoning on the atonement, the great plan of salvation, and the love
of Cod, was so clear and strong, and was delivered with such pathos, that the
coagregation involuntarily arose to their feet and pressed toward him from al!
parts. While he was preaching he very ingeniously adverted to the conduct of
the major, and remarked, “ We are Americans, and some of us have fought for our
liberty, ar.d have come here to teach men the way to heaven.” This seemed to
strike the major, and he became friendly, and has remained so ever since.

This was a great day. The work became general—the place was awful, and
many souls were born of God. Among the rest was our wild man. His history
is a peculiar one. He lived in the American Bottom, had a fine estate, and was
a professed deist. He told us that a few nights before we passed his house he
dreamed that the day of judgment was at hand, and that three men had come
from the East to warn the people to prepare for it; that so soon as he saw us he
became alarmed, believing we were those men; and having ascertained who we
were, he came to the camp-meeting. He became a reformed and good man.

The third camp-meeting was held, and on the last day one
hundred joined the Church.

McKendree has also left a concise reference to this tour, in
which he notices the following facts: The camp-meeting they
attended across the Mississippi River, in the present State of
Missouri, was the first meeting of the kind ever held on the
north-west of the Mississippi River, and they walked about
forty miles in getting to it. He further says: “Four Sabbaths
excepted, I have attended popular meetings every week since the
beginning of February, in which time I have ridden about two
thousand seven hundred miles through the wilderness to the Illi:
nois and back, spent considerable time in the most sickly part of
that and this country, and yet, blessed be God, my health and
strength have been preserved.” This trip occupied about two
months, and was the commencement of a glorious revival across
the Ohio, and upon both sides of the Mississippi.

With such men, led by the wise and holy and far-seeing Mc-
Kendree, the cause must triumph. In St. Louis and Chicago,
Jesse Walker planted Methodism. He died in 1835, a member
of the Illinois Conference. James Gwin, in later life, after
preaching on Nashville Station and District, was for a long time
pastor of the colored congregation of the city. He removed to
Mississippi, and from that Conference received the Master’s dis.
500 History of Methodism.

charge. He was strong and original. Once a junior colleague,
observing that he read but little and at the same time had to
preach every Sunday to a large and intelligent congregation,
talked to him on the subject, remarking that he could not see
how he was to sustain himself without reading. “He heard me
through,” said the junior, “without manifesting the least dis-
pleasure, and answered by saying: ‘You little fellows cannot
learn any thing until somebody else finds it out first and puts it
in a book, then you can learn it; but I know it before it goes in
a book—I know what they make books out of.’ And so he did.”

It is time to glance at the progress of the cause in the South-
west. On landing at Natchez, in the spring of the year,* Tobias
Gibson bought a horse to replace the one he had sold on the Cum-
berland when setting out on the long canoe voyage, and explored
the settlements as far up as Walnut Hills, near the site of Vicks-
burg. After visiting and preaching awhile in private houses he
organized his first church, according to previous notice. It was
at the village of Washington, the seat of territorial government,
six miles east of Natchez, in a school-house. Having preached
an instructive sermon, he proposed to receive candidates for
membership. The missionary sung the hymn of invitation with
a melody of voice peculiar to himself, and awaited the result.
Randall Gibson came forward and his wife, Henrietta; then
came Caleb Worley, a young man of Western Pennsylvania, who
had known something of Methodism in the Youghiogheny Val-
ley; next, Mrs. Edna Bullen, sister of Randall Gibson; and next,
William Foster and Rachel, his wife; and last came a negro
slave and his wife—eight in all.

Randall Gibson was a wealthy and leading man, a kinsman of
the preacher. Foster proved to be the model steward, and at his
house the first session of the Mississippi Conference was held some
years later. They both established family worship and Jed in
public prayers. Randall Gibson was the model class-leader, and
the first local preacher licensed. His character was elevated,
his. influence great and pure, and his ministry extensively use-
ful. All of these few souls, who there entered the ark of Christ's

 

*Our best historian of South-western Methodism, Rev. John G. Jones, says
Tobias Gibson arrived in the spring of 1799. Among other proofs, the family
Bible shows that the parents of the author—Jonathan Jones and Phebe Griffing
—were married by him in October following.—MS. History.
Tobias Gibson Finishes his Course. 501

 

Church, lived to old age, and honored their profession, saved
themselves, and helped to save others.

The work was enlarging, his health was failing, help was
needed, and Tobias Gibson resolved what to do. If he wrote a
letter, it might be miscarried; and if it reached the Conference
it would be only a letter from a stranger. He would go him-
self and plead his cause, and then conduct the new helper to his
field. In September, 1802, he took the Natchez trace on horse-
back alone, and made the four hundred mile trip through the
wilderness to attend the Western Conference at Strother’s.* He
had not shaken the hand nor seen the face of an itinerant in four
years. Asbury embraced him and blessed him, and sent back
with him Moses Floyd, a young Georgian, who had been in the
ministry three years. The return trip was not so solitary. Next
year stronger reasons impelled Tobias Gibson to attend Confer-
ence. He felt that his end was approaching, and with great de.
sire he desired to see the Church provided for before he depart-
ed. Again he was on the Natchez trace for a longer journey,
for the Western Conference met near Cynthiana, Kentucky, and
he appeared before his brethren in great feebleness. Asbury
put his arms about him and strengthened him. Hezekiah Har-
riman and Abram Amos returned with him—the former had seen
service in Maryland and Tennessee, the latter was a new recruit.
The following spring Tobias Gibson finished his course with
joy. From Walnut Hills to West Florida the sad news soon
spread, and a profound sorrow was on the hearts of the people.

 

* Besides the water route, following the eastern tributaries of the Mississippi
River to the Father of Waters and floating down to the point of debarkation,
there were three land routes—mere horse-paths—opened through the Indian
country to Natchez and other settlements on the Lower Mississippi. These were
maintained by the Government for mail routes, by treaty stipulations with the
Indian tribes. The first began at Nashville, and crossed the Tennessee River at
Colbert’s ferry, below the Muscle Shoals; thence through the Choctaw and Chick-
asaw Nation to the Grindstone Ford on Bayou Pierre, ending at Natchez and
Fort Adams, The second began at Knoxville, and passed through the Cherokee
Nation by way of the Tellico and Tombighee: rivers to Natchez. The third was
from the Oconee settlements, in Georgia, through the Creek Nation across the
Alabama River in the direction of St. Steven’s, on westwardly to Natchez. The
traders of the Upper Mississippi River and its tributaries, who brought down their
produce in flat-hoats, were accustomed to return on foot or horseback by the first
route—called the Nashville and Natchez trace—and hence it became best known
(MS. History of Rev. J. G. Jones.)
502 History of Methodism.

 

Tobias Gibson was in the thirty-fifth year of his age. He is
represented “as tall and spare, with fair complexion, light hair,
and piercing black eyes, and was considered handsome. The
expression of his countenance, the cast of his conversation, and
his general deportment in private life, were affectionate, but
grave and solemn. As one of his converts remarked, ‘He
seldom smiled, but often wept, especially in his public exer-
cises.’’’* His manners were such as mark true culture of soul as
well as of society, and his preaching was instructive and pathetic.
“There were but few who placed themselves under his pastoral
care,” says the well-informed historian of that day, “that did not
soon profess faith in Christ. A large proportion of both sexes of
the societies which he raised and instructed would lead in prayer
when called on in class and prayer meeting. He was a sweet
singer, and there was such a general improvement in this re-
spect that the converts under his ministry literally had a new
song put into their mouths. His candor was softened by cour-
tesy, and such was his character for piety and charity that a
personal contest with him would have been looked upon as dis-
creditable to any man.” Tobias Gibson contracted a matri-
monial engagement with one of his flock not long before he was
completely prostrated by the insidious disease that terminated his
earthly existence. He had received her, with most of her father’s
family, into the Church soon after he came to the country, and had
watched with increasing interest her growth in piety and zeal
in the service of God; but the friends of both parties, seeing he
was in a hopeless consumption, advised them not to consummate
the engagement, to which they reluctantly but judiciously and
piously consented. Their last conversation on the subject was
said to have been full of the tenderest emotions, but beautified
with Christian dignity and enlivened with mutual pledges to
meet each other in heaven. This proved to be their final part-
ing on earth. He preached his last sermon on New-year’s-day,
io 1804, which was made a blessing to many, and retired to the
louse of a relative to die. The young lady, visiting a friend in
another part.of the Territory, was taken sick and died about the
same time. “And so,” says the historian, “their reunion in the
heavenly world was much sooner than they anticipated at their
painful parting.” ¢

 

*MS. History of Rev. J.G. Jones. fIbid. t Ibid.
Results of Eight Years’ Ministry. 508

 

Learner Blackman was sent by William McKendree from the
Western Conference of 1804 to take charge of Methodism in
Mississippi. It was the first Conference McKendree ever pre-
sided over, and he never made a better appointment. Blackman
took with him Nathan Barnes, who had concluded a good year’s
work on the Scioto Circuit. What had been a circuit he devel-
oped in 1806, by wise planning and incessant preaching and trav-
eling, into a district with three circuits, having their base on the
river, and reaching out, as far as the settlements extended, toward
Alabama and Florida—the Natchez Circuit, with Wilkinson on
the south and Claibourne on the north, to which the Opelousas
Circuit, in South-western Louisiana, was added. The Mississip-
pi District was continued under the presidency of Blackman, in
1807, with the addition of Ouachita (Washita) Circuit, in the
northern part of Louisiana. This captain of the Lord’s host
now held positions on both sides of the river; and by crossing
and recrossing the wilderness to the sessions of the Western
Conference, and representing the case to Bishop Asbury, he had
brought to his help such men as Lasley, Bowman, and Axley, of
whose work we shall have more to say.

A session of the Western Conference in September, 1807, at
Chillicothe, fifty miles north of the Ohio River, means progress.
Asbury reached it from New England by traveling through
Schenectady, Geneva, and Tioga—on through Western Pennsyl-
vania—attending camp-meetings and holding ordinations along
the way: then entered Kentucky, not by the old route of the Crab
Orchard and Cumberland Gap. The scene has changed. He
says: “There were thirteen preachers added, and we found an
addition of two thousand two hundred members to the Society
in these bounds; seven deacons were elected and ordained, and
ten elders; two preachers only located; sixty-six were stationed.”

Learner Blackman was present, reporting the Mississippi Dis-
trict with five circuits—three on the east and two on the west
side of the river, with three hundred and thirty-five white and
eighty colored members. He then concluded a horseback jour-
ney of sixteen hundred miles to see his parents in New Jersey,
and took final leave of them with manly tears. He and they
desired a field nearer home, but the Church required his serv-
ices elsewhere, and to the West he returned and there ended his
noble life. Crossing the Ohio, in 1815, he was drowned.
504 History of Methodism.

Eleven delegates were chosen to represent Western Method-
ism in the General Conference of 1808, to meet at Baltimore.
Of course William McKendree led the delegation. He returned
to the East after eight years of memorable work. He had found
the Western Conference with one district and left it with five;
with two thousand three hundred and seven white members, and
one hundred and seventy-seven colored, and left it with fifteen |
thousand two hundred and two white members, and seven hun-
dred and ninety-five colored. Let us consider this Christian
chieftain, as represented by those who knew him well. He led
a band of tried men. It was not his plan to say “Go,” but
“Come;” and a more heroic band never lived than those who
followed the standard borne in triumph by William McKendree.
He was mighty in the Scriptures, and had the anointing of the
Spirit. He had obeyed well, and he governed well. As aman
of order, he: was faultless: every thing was in its place, and all
things were done at the proper time. There was no coldness,
coarseness, or selfishness about him. Without effort, he found
his way to the confidence and esteem of every one, old and young,
black and white, rich and poor. He was five feet ten inches in
height, weighing about one hundred and sixty pounds, He had
fair skin, dark hair, and blue eyes that kindled when he spoke.
When in his prime, his form was a model, possessing extraordinary
action and great physical strength. His features, taken as a
whole, were decidedly good; his bearing was modest, yet most
impressive. ‘“ When he appeared on a camp-ground,” says an old
comrade, “he naturally took command: all yielded him defer-
ence.” “His perceptive organs were perfect. He saw every
thing that came in sight—nothing passed him unnoticed. His
mind had no dark surfaces or blunt edges. His intellect was
bright, and his thoughts diamond-pointed. He never said foolish
things—never weak, never even common things.” All his time
and all his powers were consecrated to God.
 

Sug,

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Bre

 
CHAPTER XXXIV.

General Conferences of 1804 and 1808—Demand for a Delegated Body--Camp
meetings in the East—Prosperity—Bishop Whatcoat’s Death—McKendrew
Elected—Joshua Soule Brings in a Plan for a Delegated General Conference;
Its Defeat; Its Adoption—Death of Bishop Coke; His Burial at Sea.

FEELING of insecurity with regard to Church cider,

united with a growing inconvenience and inequality in
the attendance upon General Conference, suggested a change
in the composition and powers of that body. Though since 1800
limited to the elders, whenever it met it had absolute authority,
and by the vote of a bare majority could at any time change
the doctrines or the economy of the Church.

It was impossible for the distant Conferences to be present in
full force, and already they had begun to appoint delegates to
represent them. The General Conference meeting in Baltimore,
the controlling power was necessarily placed in the hands of the
elders in the central parts. There is no list of preachers in
attendance until 1804, when it appears that of one hundred and
eight present, thirty-seven are from Philadelphia Conference,
and thirty from Baltimore; giving these two Conferences almost
two-thirds of the body.*

In 1800 a proposition that there should be a delegated Gen-
eral Conference was promptly negatived. It was negatived in
1804, with the understanding that the subject might be consid-
ered by the Annual Conferences and brought, with matured
suggestions, before the next General Conference. Too much
legislation, hasty and radical measures, and unequal representa-
tion, might thus be avoided, and the polity and doctrinal integ-
rity of the Church be secured, under constitutional provisions.

The General Conference of 1804 met at a time of religious
prosperity. The year before had added over seventeen thousand
members—a larger number than any previous year had wit-
nessed Camp-meetings and revivals of great power prevailed,

 

* Number of elders present from the several Annual Conferences, in the Gen-
eral Conference of 1804: From the Western Conference, 3; South Carolina Confer-
ence, 5; Virginia Conference, 17; Baltimore Conference, 30; Philadelphia Con-
ference, 37; New York Conference, 12; New England Conference, 4. Total 198
Bishops, 3. Total of elders and bishops, 111.

(505)
506 History of Methodism.

 

and the historian of the time says“our ministers and people
throughout the Connection were uncommonly devoted to God,
and much engaged to promote his cause.” The Journal shows
that the Discipline was examined, paragraph by paragraph, from
beginning to end. Amendments were suggested, and a vote was
taken on each section. A rule was adopted that the bishops
should allow the Annual Conferences to sit a week at least, and
that they should not permit any preacher to remain in the same
station or circuit more than two years successively.

The year before he was made presiding elder McKendree was
on four circuits, serving each one quarter. Annual change was
the rule, but some preachers had been appointed to the same
place for three years, and the disposition for extended accomoda-
tion was growing. This rule was a relief to the bishops; for if
preachers are to be moved the law must keep them movable. At
this Conference i; was ordered to print the Discipline in two
parts—the first to be called the spiritual, and the second the tem-
poral part, and “that the first part of the Discipline should be
published alone, for the benefit of the black people in the South
who are members of our Society and taught to read.”

The hard rule until this time was that if any member married
with an unawakened person, he or she should be expelled from
the Church; but it was now modified: instead of being expelled
the offender was “put back on trial.” An incident, the like of
which occurred in apostolic times if we may judge from Paul’s
Epistle to the Corinthians, doubtless helped to bring about this
modification. A godly woman having entered into matrimonial
alliance contrary to the canon was on trial for the same. She
could not repent of the act, and the sanctifying effect of her
example and influence upon the miserable sinner that her hus-
band had been was known and read of all the community.
While the Society was in a dilemma about executing the law
the husband stood without, and sent in a message that if he
might be allowed to do so he would join the Church with his
wifa. And so the matter ended.

The guadrennium from 1803 to 1807 was remarkable for re-
vivals in the East, as the former four years had been in the West.
Asbury’s journal has this reckoning and this longing: “Our
total for the year 1803 is 104,070 members. In 1771 there were
about 800 Methodists in New York, 250 in Philadelphia, and a
Extension of the Revival Spirit. 507

 

few in New Jersey. I then longed for 100,000; now I want
200,000—nay, thousands upon thousands.” Some extracts from
Lee’s History will show the spirit of those times:

The Lord was pleased to favor the people in Georgia in 1803 with an uncom-
mon prosperous time in religion, and many souls were brought to God at public
and at private meetings. At the quarterly-meetings on Broad River and in Appa-
lachie circuits there were ahout thirty or forty converted at each place. The
quarterly-meeting at Harris’s Chapel, in Washington county, was remarkably fa-
vored with the presence of the Lord. Conversions were clear and powerful, and
not many short of one hundred professed converting grace at that time.

There was a general camp-meeting in Warren county. The ground was opened
in an oblong form, having the meeting-honse in the middle. On the second day
souls were converted to God, and the work spread through the assembly. It was
thought that as many as one hundred souls were converted. Indeed, Georgia has
been a great place for religion from that day to this, and old professors have gen-
erally been very lively in religion.

In South Carolina religion gained ground, and in many places it might be said
to be all in a flame.

In North Carolina the work of the Lord spread greatly, and was known both
among saints and sinners. A short account of the camp-meetings in the lower
part of that State says: “At the first camp-meeting I suppose there were twenty-
seven converted; several at the second and third, about ten at the fourth, and
about sixty-seven at the last.”

There was a gracious reformation and many converted 1n the city of Middle-
town, Connecticut, in the course of the summer and fall of the year. A number
of the inhabitants went from the city by water down the river to what they called
a kind of field-meeting, where the work began, and several were awakened, and
converted as they returned home. From that time the work revived.

In the latter part of the summer (1804) there was a camp-meeting held low
down in Virginia, near the town of Suffolk, where the power and presence of God
were wonderfully displayed. The meeting began on Friday, and continued with
but little intermission until Monday night, in which time it was thought that
three or four hundred persons were converted to God. The accounts from that
meeting appear to be incredible to those who were not present, but those who
were eye and ear witnesses think it to be too great to be sufficiently described.

During this year Stith Mead labored among the people of Bedford, Amherst,
and Campbell counties, and a few other places, where the Lord greatly owned his
labors in the gospel. He gives an account of upward of eleven hundred who
were converted at the meetings where he was, in the course of six months. It
appeared as if the kingdoms of this world would soon become the kingdom of
the Lord and of his Christ. These camp-meetings were the first that had ever
been held in that part of Virginia. Lynchburg greatly shared in this revival.

The years 1805 and 1806 were prosperous, and the work of
God was carried on in many places in an uncommon manner,
both in the conversion and sanctification of souls. “Most of the
United States,” says Lee, “were favored with the awakening
508 History of Methodism.

 

and converting grace of Gad. The people were ofttimes awak-
ened and brought to the knowledge of God in the course of the
same day. Some who came to meeting in the forenoon quite
careless and wicked have gone away before night happy in God.
I have seen some fall beneath the power of God as if they were
struck dead, and then lie helpless and speechless for a short
space, while their friends have prayed for them, and at last they
sprung up of a sudden, and with a loud voice gave praise to God
in that he had forgiven their sins.”* Methodism was at its true
calling—acting upon the masses, reaching the multitude with the
gospel. It became common to begin quarterly-meetings on Fri.
day, and continue them until Sunday night or Monday forenoon,
and for hundreds of people to attend them in wagons, and carts,
and with tents, and to lodge in the woods by the meeting-houses
while the meeting lasted. Many old Christians were renewed in
love, and backsliders were reclaimed. It was customary to hear
of ten or twenty souls being converted where the people met to
hear a sermon or to hold a prayer-meeting, and of fifty or a hun-
dred souls being converted at a quarterly or a camp meeting.
While sinners were coming home to God, Christians were ad-
vancing in the divine life, and many young preachers were raised
up to the help of the Lord against the mighty.

On the Eastern Shore of Maryland, according to credible re-
port, more than one thousand persons were converted at a camp-
meeting which lasted five days and nights.

The peninsula produced some of the strongest men of Meth-
odism: Shadrack Bostwick, Caleb Boyer, William Beauchamp,
Ezekiel Cooper, Hope Hull, William Phoebus, Stephen Martin-
dale, Lawrence McCombs, Lawrence Lawrenson, John Emory,
John Broadhead, George Pickering, and many others.

The necrology of these times is rich in the trophies of faith.
Wilson Lee died in October, 1804. He had labored in the most
refined Eastern stations and in the roughest Western missions,
for twenty years. A few months before he died he said to a
friend: “I have given up the world, I have given up the Church,
I have given up all.”

William Ormond died of yellow fever, declaring with his latest
breath, “Peace, peace, victory, victory; complete victory!” To

 

* Lee’s History of Methodism. Ibid.
“Our People Die Well.” 509

 

a friend he wrote, June 30, 1803: “I expect to continue upon my
station, for it appears I cannot well leave it at this time. J may
as well die with the fever as with any other afiliction, and there
is as direct a passage from Norfolk to heaven as from any other
part of the globe. I have no widow to weep over my lifeless
body, no babes to mourn for a father; and I find this world is a
dangerous and troublesome place.” He left a legacy to the Con-
ference, and another to build a house for God in the neighkor.
hood of his nativity.

About the same time, in the North, fell David Brown, a native
of Ireland. The Minutes say: “He had a peculiar excellency in
reproof. The edge of it was so keen and so tempered as to give
at the time rather pleasure than pain, yet so directed as to pro-
duce with unerring certainty its effect; and generally after his
departure his supposed pleasantry was first perceived to hava
had a serious meaning; but he lost no love by his reproofs. Dis-
cord fled before him, for the God of peace was with him, and a
united harmony brooded over the face of the circuit.”

Nicholas Watters died in Charleston of yellow fever, where
James King had died of the same disease seven years before.
He was one of seven brothers who were among the first to em-
brace Methodism in Maryland; the youngest of whom was the
first American Methodist itinerant. Henry Willis—one of the
best of the original thirteen elders, finished his course; and
George Dougherty, a gifted and faithful preacher. Like Willis,
he often sunk and rose again in bodily strength, and took ad-
vantage of every respite to renew pulpit and pastoral labor.
The Minutes say: “Our immortal Dougherty was declining for
two years, but his fortitude caused him to travel to the last of
life. He survived and re-survived. His last public act was to
attend the Annual Conference in Sparta, Georgia, January, 1807.
Here he brought forward a resolution, ‘that if any preacher
should desert his station through fear in time of sickness or
danger, the Conference should never employ that man again.’
He, with amazing argument and energy, carried his cause, like a
dying general in victory. He spoke of eternity with sweet com
posure, and manifested an indescribable assemblage of confi-
dence, love, and hope, while he said, ‘The goodness and love of
God to me are great and marvelous as I go down the dreadful
declivity of death.’” .

2H :
510 ' History of Methodism.

 

Bennett Kendrick was put on the Camden District to supply
Dougherty’s place, and died thirteen days after him. “His ex-
cellences as a preacher were known best to citizens, friends, and
brethren in Portsmouth, Wilmington, Charleston, and Colum-
bia; and the poor Africans repeat his name and his death with
tears. He was a willing servant to slaves for the sake of Christ.”

The reproach that the Protestant clergy desert their flocks in
opidemics, and leave the Romish priesthood to stand by the peo-
ple in times of danger, has often been disproved by Methodist
preachers in the cities of the Gulf and Atlantic coasts.

Bishop Whatcoat died at the house of Governor Bassett, Del-
aware, in 1806. The brief record is: “ Born in 1736; converted
Sept. 8, 1758; sanctified March 28, 1761; began to preach in 1769;
came to America in 1784; consecrated bishop in 1800; died at
Dover, Delaware, July 5, 1806.” He was one of the two elders
who came with Bishop Coke to organize Episcopal Methodism,
and used his office well. One day in Kent county he “preached
in the morning and baptized thirty-six children, and in the after-
noon, and baptized fifty more.” We have seen him on his first
episcopal tour. On returning to the place of setting out he
wrote: “Our circuit through the continent since we left Balti-
more,.21st of May, 1800, is about 4,184 miles. We had the pleas-
ure of seeing and hearing that pure and undefiled religion is
spreading in a general way; in some places it is extraordinary.”
The next year he explored and preached from Boston to Savan-
nah, One expression betrays his itinerant habit and his con-
scientious accuracy. The distance between places is measured
by “the way I came.’ He winds up his second continental
tour: “From Camden to Petersburg, the way I traveled, is about
585 miles. I visited several societies, preached to the people,
and came to Baltimore the 27th of March, 322 miles from Pe-
tersburg, the way I came. In my course through the continent
since I left Baltimore the 11th of last April, it is about 3,707
miles, in the 66th year of my age.” Next he touched the extreme
eastern and western points of American Methodism, preaching
edifying sermons, ordaining deacons and elders in every Confer-
ence, and concluded another tour of so many thousand miles,
“the way I came.’ His fifth and last grand: round is thus re-
‘corded: “ Notwithstanding my infirm state of body, through the
blessing of God I have been able to travel 3,416 miles the last
A Delegated General Conference. 511

 

twelve months, stopping one-fourth of the time at different places
by the way.” The Minutes say: “Who ever saw him trifling or
light? Who ever heard him speak evil of any person? Nay,
who ever heard him speak an idle word? Dead to envy, pride,
and praise. Sober, without sadness; cheerful, without levity;
careful, without covetousness; and decent, without pride.”

At the place of his tomb— Wesley Chapel, Dover—his survit.
ing colleague bore a loving and strong testimony to the worth of
one whom he “had known from his own age of fourteen years.”
All mourned for him whose chief and priceless contribution 1o
the Church had been faithful service and holy example, gentle-
ness and peace, sweetness and light.*

The General Conference of 1808 met in Baltimore, with one
hundred and twenty-nine members as reported in the Minutes.
Of these, Philadelphia had thirty-two and Baltimore thirty-one—
nearly a majority of the body. This, like every General Confer-
ence before it, was a body with conventional powers. The whole
Discipline was open to revision by a majority vote. It had be-
come evident that there must be a delegated General Conference,
working under a constitution. A committee of fourteen—twu
from each of the seven Annual Conferences—was appointed to
draw upa plan. This committee met, and detailed three of their
number as a sub-committee, viz.: Ezekiel Cooper, of the New
York; Philip Bruce, of the Virginia; and Joshua Soule, of the
New England Conference. This sub-committee agreed that each
should make out a draught, and separated. When they met
Cooper and Soule had theirs, but Bruce had not put pen to pa-
per. The words, as they now stand in the Discipline, were in
Joshua Soule’s paper—providing for a general itinerant superin-
tendency. Cooper’s ran thus: “The General Conference shall
not do away with episcopacy, nor reduce our ministry to a pres-
byterial parity.” The issue was made there. Finally, Bruce
voted with Soule, and his plan was submitted to the committee

 

* Not to lose sight of Thomas Vasey: Having once put on gown and bands, he
could not put them off. He consented to receive reérdination at the hands of
Bishop White; returned to England; obtained a curacy in the Establishment;
went back to his first love, and got employment from Wesley at City Road and
in the Leed’s band-meetings; and died at a good old age. It would be interesting
to know what spiritual benefits or grace flowed to him along a material line of tactual
mecession, supposing such an unbroken conductor, by laying on of hands, to exist
512 History of Methodism.

 

of fourteen, and adopted without change, and by it submitted to
the Conference. The constitution—for so we may call it—was
debated, and laid on the table for three days. Hzekiel Cooper

labored hard ‘to have seven bishops—one for each Annual Con-
ference. He was a master of debate, and the motion was his,
seconded by Joshua Wells of the Baltimore Conference, “to
postpone the present question to make room for the considera-
tion of a new resolution as preparatory to the minds of the
brethren to determine on the present subject.”

Cooper and others favored an elective presiding eldership, and
this opportunity was considered a very favorable one for pushing
a measure that had been often defeated mainly by those who now
sought a delegated General Conference.

The motion to postpone prevailed, and they immediately in-
troduced a resolution that “each Annual Conference respectively,
without debate, shall annually choose by ballot its own presid-
ing elders.” This question was debated for three days, and was
lost by a vote of fifty-two yeas, and seventy-three nays. The
report recommending a delegated body was then voted upon and
lost, fifty-seven being for, and sixty-four against.

As the New York, New England, South Carolina, and West-
ern Conferences had petitioned for this plan, and as it was lost
by the votes principally of Philadelphia and Baltimore, much
feeling was excited: The New England delegates asked leave
of absence, stating that they were not disposed to make any fac-
tion, but they considered their presence useless. The Western
delegates were in no pleasant mood. “ Burke’s brow gathered a
solemn frown; Sale and others looked sad; as for poor Lakin, he
wept like a child.”* Jesse Lee, who from the beginning favored
a delegated body, endangered the whole scheme by persistent ob-
jection to an unimportant point. He disliked the election of del-
egates; wished them indicated by seniority, to prevent electioneer-
ing. The author of the plan met this by proposing to amend the
part providing for the appointment of delegates by leaving it to
the Annual Conferences to appoint by seniority or by ballot. The
brethren of the minority consented to remain in the city until
some private interviews could be held. A number of the Phil-
adelphia and Baltimore members agreed to reconsider and
to vote with them; and subsequently the report was taken

 

*Henry Smith’s Recollections of an Itinerant.
McKendree Elected and Consecrated Bishop. 513

 

up and acted on, item by item, and then as a whole the plan for a
delegated General Conference was adopted with great unanimity.*

It was necessary to “strengthen the episcopacy” by the elec-
tion of one or more superintendents; and after a motion to elect
seven bishops, and another to elect two, had failed by a strong
vote, it was resolved almost unanimously to elect and consecrate
one. The Conference proceeded to vote by ballot, one hundred
and twenty-eight members present and voting. William Mc-
Keudree received ninety-five votes, and was declared elected;
and on the 18th of May he was consecrated, in Light Street
Church, by Bishop Asbury, assisted by four elders.

When the Western presiding elder entered the General Con-
ference, he had been so long and so far from the central part of
the Church his old friends were not prepared to appreciate the
improvement he had made, while to the younger members of the
body he was almost unknown, even by name. Having been ap-
pointed to preach at Light Street Church on the Sabbath be-
fore Conference, McKendree complied, and the unction of the
Holy One was upen the preacher and the word. The people
magnified the grace of God in him, saying in their hearts, “This
is the man whom God delights to honor.” Bishop Asbury, who
was present, was heard to say that the sermon would make him

 

* The following is a copy of an important part of the plan:

The General Conference shall have full powers to make rules and regulations
for our Church, under the following limitations and restrictions:

1. The General Conference shall not revoke, alter, or change our Articles of
Religion, nor establish any new standards or rules of doctrine contrary to our
present existing and established standards of doctrine.

2. They shall not allow of more than one representative for every five members
of the Annual Conference, nor allow of a less number than one for every seven.

3. They shall not change or alter any part or rule of our government so as to
do away episcopacy or destroy the plan of our itinerant general superintendency.

4. They shall not revoke or change the General Rules of the United Societies,

5. They shall p * do away the privileges of our ministers or preachers of trial
by a committee, and of an appeal; neither shall they do away the privileges of
ot. members of trial before the Society, or by a committee, and of an appeal.

6. They shall not appropriate the produce of the Book Concern, or of the Char-
ter Fund, to any purpose other than for the benefit of the traveling, supernumer-
ary, superannouated, and worn-out preachers, their wives, widows, and children.
Provided, nevertheless, that upon the joint recommendation of all the Annual
Conferences then a majority of two-thirds of the General Conference succeeding
shall suffice to alter any of the above restrictions.

a3
614 History of Methodism.

 

a bishop. He was the first native American elected to that office
in the Methodist Church, and was fifty-one years of age.

The Conference of 1808 dates an era in Episcopal Methodism.
Asbury rejoiced over the provision for stability in the Church
and “the electing dear Brother McKendree,” with this good
reason: “Since the burden is now borne by two pairs of shoul-
ders instead of one—the care is cast upon two hearts and heads.”

Bishop Coke was present at the General Conference of 1804,
and soon after took final leave. He was bringing out his Com-
mentary on the Bible, and carrying on missions in the West
Tndies, Wales, Ireland, and Africa. Herein lies his greatness:
he was in advance of the Church on its greatest duty—to spread
the gospel in the regions beyond. He devoted himself to beg -
ging funds, as well as administering them, in this behalf, and was
the largest giver to the cause; and so carefully, as well as hon-
estly, was this abundance administered by him that there was
never occasion: for blame. The following is an instance of
his perseverance and success. Calling on the captain of a
mun-of-war one day, he pleaded the cause of the negroes so
powerfully that he obtained a much larger sum than he had ex-

‘pected; this he gratefully received and retired. The captain,
who knew nothing of Dr. Coke, happened to call on a gentleman
to whom the Doctor had made several successful applications in
behalf of the missions. After some conversation, “Pray, sir,”
said the captain, “do you know any thing of a little fellow who
calls himself Dr. Coke, who is going about begging money for
missionaries to be sent among the slaves?” ‘I know him well,”
was the reply. “He seems,” rejoined the captain, “to be a
heavenly-minded little devil; he coaxed me out of two guineas
this morning.”

Returning from his ninth and last voyage to America, he re-
newed the business of planning missions and soliciting aid for
their support. With this object in view he visited Bristol an:
called on a lady who was at once rich, generous, and pious. With
a countenance beaming with generosity she subscribed one hun-
dred guineas. As it was not convenient for her to pay the amount
at that time, she requested him to call on her at her residence in
Wiltshire. On seeing the amount of her subscription, the Doc-
tor found it difficult to express his gratitude. When he called
on her at Bradford, instead of repining at her former liberality,
Bishop Coke’s Marriage—His Church Union Projects. 515

 

she doubled the amount and gave him two hundred guineas.
From these interviews an acquaintance began which led to their
marriage in April, 1805.

This lady was the only surviving child of a gentleman who
had bequeathed to her an ample fortune; and being interested
in the prosperity of missions, she was desirous of promoting the
cause of God by supporting them. Having married this estima-
ble and wealthy lady—Miss Penelope Goulding Smith—Dr.
Coke addressed a circular to his American brethren in June,
1805, announcing his marriage, and proposing to reside perma-
nently with them “on the express condition that the seven Con-
ferences should be divided betwixt us [Bishop Asbury and him-
self], three and four, and four and three, each of us changing
our division annually; and that this plan, at all events, should
continue permanent and unalterable during both our lives.”

The Conferences—some sharply, others mildly but firmly—
declined a proposition which ignored the position and claims of
Bishop Whatcoat, who was greatly and justly loved, and who
was then actively engaged in the duties of his office; and which
involved other consequences not desirable.

A more serious affair had to be cleared up by Bishop Coke,
which brought a long explanatory letter to the Conference of
1808. He and Bishop White had been indulging in a little pri-
vate negotiation for a union of the Methodist Episcopal and the
Protestant Episcopal Churches, as far back as 1791. Of course
the project fell through; but a letter of Coke’s, written in honor
and confidence to White on the matter, after lying still for years,
had been published. While this document caused “much un-
circumcised rejoicing” in one camp, it raised indignation in the
other. He declares to the General Conference, after giving the
history of the affair: “I thought (perhaps erroneously, and I be-
lieve so now) that our field of action would have been exceed-
ingly enlarged by that junction, and that myriads would have
atten Jed our ministry in consequence of it who were at that time
prejudiced against us. All these things unitedly considered led
me to write the letter, and meet Bishop White and Dr. Magaw
in Philadelphia.” He avers: “I never did apply to the general
convention, or any other convention, for reconsecration. I never
intended that either Bishop Asbury or myself should give up
our episcopal office if the junction were to take place;” and that
516 History of Methodism.

 

“T have no doubt but my consecration of Bishop Asbury was
perfectly valid.” He held that the orders of all ordained Meth-
odist preachers were perfectly valid, and that nothing he had writ-
ten or done in the whole business was contrary to this position
or compromised the honor and integrity of Methodism. It was
to be a union, where both parties made concessions and got ad-
vantages, but neither was absorbed.

Coke had been alarmed at the O’Kelley schism, which was ther
rising; he had been listening to the chief and his friends, and took
in their exaggerations of evil. Moreover, there was as yet no
General Conference established as a center of power and bond
of union for Episcopal Methodism. In this state of things he
verily thought each Church could bring to the other some ele-
ment of strength in their day of weakness.

The General Conference accepted his apology, and yielded
gracefully to a request from the English brethren that he should
remain with them, where he was greatly useful. The worst, the
inexcusable part of this pragmatism is that Asbury was at his
side when Coke wrote the letter, and was not taken into his con-
fidence. His excuse was that he knew his colleague would not
then entertain the thought, and he wished to get things in train
by the coming General Conference of 1792.

Dr. Coke was very enterprising. In 1799 he had the Bishop
of London and the Archbishop of Canterbury considering another
scheme of union proposed by himself, to arrest the tendency to
“universal separation from the Establishment,” which was evi-
dent among the Wesleyans of Great Britain. In a long letter
he informs his lordship:

A very considerable part of our Society have imbibed a deep prejudice against
receiving the Lord’s Supper from the hands of immoral clergymen. The word
immoral they consider in a very extensive sense, as including all those who fre-
‘quent card-tables, balls, horse-racing, theaters, and other places of fashionable
amusement. I have found it in vain to urge to them that the validity of the or
dinance does not depend upon the piety, or even the morality, of the minister; all
my arguments have had no effect. . . . Iam inclined to think that if a given
number of our leading preachers, proposed by our General Conference, were to be
ordained, and permitted to travel through our Connection, to administer the sac-
raments to those Societies who have been thus prejudiced as above, every difficulty
would be removed.

After some weeks of incubation upon this stone egg the arch-
bishop, with due apology for delay, says: “I now proceed to in-
The Man that He Was. 517

 

form you of my sentiments, and those of the bishops with whom
I have communicated on the subject of your letter, after the full-
est and most deliberate consideration of its contents.” And the
substance is: ‘That persons of ‘tender consciences, who have
scruples in respect to any points of religious doctrine or disci-
pline, should be allowed all reasonable indulgence, we hold to be
just and proper; but that a scruple avowed to be founded in a
presumption that all the regularly ordained clergy of the Church
of England are immoral, should be given way to””—well, they did
not see their way clear! All this, let it be remembered, in En-
gland and in America, was on the Doctor’s own motion and re-
sponsibility; nobody had any hand in it but himself.*

Thomas Coke’s foibles must not be allowed to offset, or even
to obscure, his excellences. Without chagrin he accepted the re-
jection of exceptional proposals to serve the American churches,
and was ready with other offers. He took reproof kindly. Often
blundering impetuously, he did not stint at apology. His “con-
science could not be pacified” without writing “a penitential
letter” to Jarratt for the way he had spoken of him in his jour-
nal as a slave-holder. If one ill-devised plan fell through, his
restless activity for doing good tried another. He never soured,
never despaired; and his love for his brethren never failed. The
English Methodists, on his return to them, treated him coldly
because they thought him too American; and his American
brethren suspected him as too English; but he resented neither,
and only sought to serve both in the Lord. On foreign mission
stations, in the presence of the heathen where so vast a work is
to be done for Christ, denominational differences are felt the
least; the lines that divide the little band of Christian workers
almost fade away. This missionary spirit and aspect had mas-
tered Thomas Coke, and he desired to see a union of forces
against the massed powers of sin and Satan, at any reasonable
sacrifice and concession. If his advances were repelled, or his
confidence was betrayed, he did not cease to trust his fellow-men,
and could say: “In the integrity of my heart and innocency of
my hands have I done this.” More impulsive than calculating,
he was too earnest for his cause to be conservative of his repu-
tation. He bore the expenses as well as the perils of endless voy-
ages and journeys in the service of the Church, and gave an im-

* Life of Ooke, hy Drew, pages 290-295,

 
518 History of Methodism.

 

pulse to domestic and foreign missions which is felt to this day.
Tt has been truly stated that for many years he “stooped to the
very drudgery of charity, and gratuitously pleaded the cause of
a perishing world from door to door.”

Beginning with Nova Scotia, and raising his first collection of
$150 in the Baltimore Conference of 1784 for the support of its
missionaries, he reached even to Gibraltar. Nor did he end
there. In 1811, under his appeals, Warren, Haley, Reyner, and
Hurst volunteered to undertake a mission to the continent of
Africa, and arrived safely after a passage of more than thirteen
months. To carry this design into immediate operation Coke
advanced £600 (about $2,666) from his own personal property.

In 1813, having gathered all the information necessary for un-
dertaking a mission to India, and fixed upon Ceylon as the best
point for beginning, Coke appeared before the British Confer-
ence, in his sixty-sixth year, and asked their approval. He
stated at large the providential concurrence of circumstances
which at the time rendered a mission to the East feasible. At
the same time he introduced to the Conference seven preachers
who had volunteered to accompany him to the regions beyond.
Some thought the time had not yet come for so bold and cost-
ly an enterprise; but he pleaded for it, and declared it would
break his heart if he were denied. To silence effectually what-
ever opposition might be made from pecuniary considerations,
he offered to bear the whole expense of the outfit from his own
private property, to the amount of £6,000 (about $26,660), if that
sum should be found necessary.

Having completed the necessary preparations, on the 10th of
December they left London for Portsmouth, to embark. Their
ship doubled the Cape of Good Hope late in April. The mis-
sionaries were diligent in studies, preparatory to their future
work, and frequent and fervent in devotions. On retiring to rest
May 2, their leader “took his fellow-missionaries by the hand,
and in his usual manner commended them to God.” Next morn-
ing he was found “stretched upon his cabin-floor, lifeless and
cold.” It is supposed that he died of apoplexy. The wish, ex-
pressed in his will, that his body might be buried by the side
of beloved dust at Brecon, could not be carried out. The in-
tense heat made it necessary that the funeral should take place
on the evening of the same day.
Bishop Coke’s Burial at Sea. 519

 

The ship’s carpenter made a large, thick deal coffin, with holes
in the bottom, that the air might not prevent its sinking. In
this coffin the body was decently laid, and four cannon-balls, in-
closed in canvas bags, were introduced—two at the head and
two at the feet of the corpse. At five o’clock the coffin was car-
ried on deck and laid on the leeward gangway. The awning was
spread, and the tolling of the ship’s bell called the passengers
and crew together. One of the missionaries read the funeral-
service, and then, in solemn silence, the body of the first Meth-
odist bishop was consigned to its grave in the middle of the
Indian Ocean, to be seen no more till “the. sea shall give up
the dead which are in it.”

The rest of the company reached the place of their destination
in safety, and commenced their labors under favorable circum-
stances; and the success which has since attended this mission
proves that it was undertaken and prosecuted under the Divine
sanction. It was the beginning of the vast foreign missionary
work that has made Wesleyan Methodism famous in all lands.

At the time of Coke’s death Asbury, wheezing and groaning
with asthma, with his feet in poultices, and “sitting in my little
covered wagon, into which they lifted me,” was clambering over
the mountains of Western Pennsylvania, visiting, preaching, and
holding Conferences. When the news of the sad event reached
him he wrote in his journal: ‘Thomas Coke, of the third branch
of Oxonian Methodists: as a minister of Christ, in zeal, in labors,
and in services, the greatest man of the last century.”
CHAPTER XXXV.

Extending the Field in Illinois and Missouri~Winans—Negro Missions—Olin- -
McKendree’s New Method of Presiding—Asbury Takes Final Leave of the
Conferences’ State of the Western Field on his Departure—Asbury’s Death.

rT \HE members of the General Conference of 1808 closed their

memorable session with remarkable unanimity and affec-
tion, and returned to their respective fields with fresh zeal and
hope, feeling that they had done their duty to God and the
Church; and the whole Connection seemed to enjoy renewed vig-
or. The two Bishops separated. Asbury, with Henry Boehm as
his traveling companion, started through Maryland, Pennsylva-
nia, Ohio, and Kentucky, to the first Conference for the year, to
be held in Tennessee; while McKendree went through Western
Virginia and Illinois, and crossing the Mississippi River above
its junction with the Missouri, joined his old friend Jesse Walk-
erin holding a camp-meeting, in July; and pushing still farther
west, crossing the Missouri River one hundred miles above its
mouth, they held another camp-meeting at Big Spring, in Au-
gust. This was the frontier “where,” he says in his diary, “un-
til lately the Methodists were unknown—it being under the
Spanish and papal governments until transferred to us by the
French. Last year we formed a circuit here.”

On the way to the farthest west he attended an Illinois camp-
roeeting where he had preached the year before. The approach
was picturesque: “Crossing the Ohio we left Kentucky, and took
four days’ provision for man and beast, and struck into the wil-
derness. Lying out was no hardship, but the water was ex-
tremely bad, and the flies intolerable. Some had attempted to
go through the prairies, but had turned back, and advised us not
to try it; but we resolved to go, trusting the Lord. On the third
day the flies afflicted us sorely, when a kind Providence sent a
strong breeze and blew them all away. After twelve hours a
shower of rain succeeded, and blessed man and beast with water
todrink. On Saturday morning, as we drew near to the encamp-
ment, about thirty of the neighbors fell in with us. We rode
two deep, and a number of excellent singers went in front. We
were all glad, and as we moved they sung delightfully, ‘with the
spirit and with the understanding;’ and as we approached the

(520)
William Winans a Preacher on Trial. 521

 

congregation met us with open arms, and welcomed us in the
name of the Lord. The Lord was in our midst.”

On the return he attended another camp-meeting in the terri-
tory. ‘The people received us as angels of God, and the Lord
blessed us with many conversions. On Monday as the sun rose
I preached, and then started for Kentucky. A Chickamauga In-
dian who got converted when I was here last year, stood at 4
distance and looked on until he could refrain no longer, then
rushed through the crowd, caught me around the neck, and cried
aloud, saying, ‘I see your face no more!’ We rode forty-five
miles, lodged in the wilderness, and rested in peace.”

Late in September he rejoined Bishop Asbury at the Western
Conference, which began October 1, at Liberty Hill, near Nash-
ville. The Conference was held at a camp-meeting, the preachers
lodging on the encampment, while the Bishops, in view of Bishop
Asbury’s feeble health, staid at the residence of Green Hill,
the same at whose North Carolina home the first Annual Con-
ference was held in 1785. “We sat,” says the senior, “six hours
a day, stationed eighty-three preachers, and all was peace. On
Friday the sacrament was administered, and we hope there were
souls converted, and strengthened, and sanctified.”

Seventeen preachers were admitted on trial, among them Will-
jam Winans. He was born in West Pennsylvania, 1788. His
childhood and youth were subjected to a severe and rugged dis-
cipline. “The poverty of a widowed mother rendered it needful
that he should at an early age labor for his own support and
that of the other members of her family. He was thus em-
ployed in the iron foundries of his neighborhood, where associ-
ation exposed him to every form of vice. When about sixteen
years of age his family removed to the State of Ohio. He was
brought to see his sin and deplore it, and joined the Church, and
after months of earnest prayer found the forgiveness of sins, and
received the witness of the Spirit to his adoption. At a night-
meeting while leading in prayer, he found the pearl of great
price, and from this period dated his conversion to God. He
was shortly after appointed class-leader, then licensed to exhort.”
Having exercised his gifts as an exhorter for one year, he was
licensed to preach, and- recommended to Conference. He was
appointed to the old Limestone Circuit, as junior preacher: the
next year to Vincennes Circuit, which included all the settle.
522 _ History of Methodism.

 

ments on the Wabash and White rivers, from the Indiana line
to the Ohio River. He found a small society of forty-three
members which Jesse Walker had organized at Vincennes the
year before, and returned to the next Conference one hundred
and twenty-five. In August, 1810, while young Winans was on
this circuit, occurred the historic interview between Tecumseh,
a Shawnee chief, and General Harrison, who was Governor of
the Territory. Dissatisfied with a late treaty between the Gov-
2rnor and the Miami Indians, by which certain lands on the
Wabash were ceded to the Government, Tecumseh sought the
abrogation of the treaty. The interview took place in a grove
of trees standing a short distance from the Governor’s house,
the Indian chief having objected to the conference being held
on ihe portico, as proposed. At one point in the negotiations
fears were entertained that the meeting would end in a bloody
massacre. Amid the excitement that such an occasion would
produce, the Methodist preacher evinced characteristic coolness
and courage. Unwilling, if his services were needed, to be only a
silent spectator, he ran to the house of the Governor, and obtain-
ing a gun posted himself at the door as the guard of the family.
To the self-possession and alertness of young Winans, no less
than to the calm bearing of the Governor (whose eye quailed
not during the menacing demonstrations of Tecumseh), may be
attributed the peaceful termination of the interview.

Next fall transfers were wanted for the Mississippi country,
and William Winans, with Sela Paine, took the Natchez trace
for that region of the Church and country to be henceforth asso-
ciated with his development, his labors, and his death, and there
we shall meet him again.

The journal of Asbury on the road says: “ Prospects in Mis-
souri are great. Bishop McKendree has magnified his office, and
penetrated farther to the West than I have, already. From the
Western Conference we have traveled rapidly, chiefly together.
We hope to strike off a thousand or twelve hundred miles before
the South Carolina Conference.”

The diary of McKendree shows that, in company with his sen-
ior, he started from Liberty Hill the day after the Conference
rose, preached in many places, attended two camp-meetings, and
then went on to Charleston, where he remained two weeks,
preaching in the different churches.
The Beginning of Negro Missions. 523

 

They move on from Charleston, through Augusta, to the
camp-ground in Green county, Georgia, where the Conference
is held the last days of the year. Asbury’s journal gives the
lights and the shadows:

Dee. 18, 1808.—I preached in Augusta. My flesh sinks underlabor. We are rid-
ing in a poor thirty dollar chaise, in partnership, two bishops of us; but it must be
confessed it tallies well with the weight of our purses. What bishops! Well; but
we hear great news, and we have great times, and each Western, Southern, and
the Virginia Conference will have one thousand souls truly converted to God;
and is not this an equivalent for a light purse? And are we not well paid for
starving and toil? Yes, glory be to God!

Sabbath 25.—Christmas-day. We opened our Conference on Monday. Be-
tween sixty and seventy men were present, all of one spirit. We appointed three
missionaries—one for Tombigbee; one for Ashley and Savannah, and the country
between; and one to labor between Santee and Cooper rivers. Increase within
the bounds of this Conference three thousand and eighty-eight. Preaching, and
exhortations, and singing, and prayer—we had all these without intermission on
the camp-ground, and we have reasons to believe that many souls will be convert-
ed. The number of traveling and local preachers present is about three hun-
dred. There are people here with their tents who have come one hundred and
fifty miles. The prospects of doing good are glorious.

Three missionaries! Matthew P. Sturdevant enters the Tom-
bigbee country, and Alabama Methodism begins its record. The
other two are to the negro slaves in South Carolina.

The South Carolina Conference then began what was kept up
for half a century—sending a class of good preachers to evan-
gelize the slaves. In many cases they were superior men, who
devoted themselves to what the world esteemed an inferior work.
J. H. Mellard was the missionary on Savannah River, and James
E. Glenn on the Santee. Twelve years later a young man from
Vermont, who had graduated at Middlebury College with a
shattered constitution and unsettled religious principles, sought
the South for health and employment. James E. Glenn received
him to his home at Cokesbury, and as one of the trustees of the
village academy secured him a position. Though born in the
North, he was converted and developed in the South; became the
first Presid2nt of Randolph Macon College, Virginia, and died
in the same position at Wesleyan University, Connecticut; and
in the opinion of many competent judges was the ablest preacher
who has appeared in American Methodism. No man had more
influence in shaping Stephen Olin’s early Southern life, and in
giving it “an unlooked-for turn,” than James E. Glenn.
524 History of Methodism.

 

A glance at the men and their distribution will show that the
Conference holding the extreme Southern position is strong, and
laying a foundation for the future.

Lovick Pierce is presiding elder of the Oconee District, Brit-
ton Capel of the Ogeechee, Lewis Myers of the Saleuda, Daniel
Asbury of the Catawba, and Jonathan Jackson of the Camden
District. James Jenkins, Hilliard Judge, Samuel Dunwoody,
William Gassaway, William M. Kennedy, James Russell, Joseph
Tarpley, are among the laborers cultivating this portion of the
vineyard; and this year sixteen recruits are added, among them
William Capers, Anthony Senter, and Robert L. Kennon.

Continuing their route, in partnership, the two itinerant gen-
eral superintendents visited Wilmington, Newbern, and Wash-
ington, and reached Tarboro, North Carolina, on the last day of
January. The Virginia Conference began there the next day.
Bishop McKendree was now among his old acquaintances,
preached admirably, and ordained the elders. Bishop Asbury
says: “ We had eighty-four preachers present; sixty of them the
most pleasing, promising young men; seventeen preachers were
admitted; in all the Conference there are but three married
men.” The first three bishops were bachelors, and so were
Cooper, Bruce, Lee, and a great company of that generation.

In their northward visitation the two itinerant general super-
intendents passed through New York, where their “attention
was strongly excited by the steam-boat—a great invention.”
Little did they dream of the effect of that new motor in facili-
tating the spread of their gospel. They traveled every day—
Sundays of course excepted—to the 14th of June, when they
reached Monmouth, Maine, the seat of the New England Con-
ference. This trip, which occupied twenty-one days, can now
be made in as many hours, and without fatigue.

June 10 Bishop McKendree notes in his diary:

I have passed through nearly all the sea-port towns in my course, and preached
in Boston, Lynn, and Portsmouth, this week. There is a beautiful prospect of
religion in Portsmouth, the seat of government for New Hampshire. I heard
more doctrinal sentiments and more breathing after holiness expressed in a love-
feast here than in any other place I have visited lately. This Society has been
raised, and a meeting-house purchased, by George Pickering, in the course of
this year.

rom New England they proceeded to finish the round,
by different routes to the Western Conference—Asbury going
First Conference in Cincinnati. 525

 

through Pittsburg, and McKendree passing through Steuben-
ville, Zanesville, Chillicothe, and reaching Cincinnati the last of
September. His record of one week is: “My rides have been
long. Rode through much rain, preached nine times to small,
lonely congregations, in the course of this week.” He attended
three more camp-meetings—the first near Chillicothe, the second
at Rev. P. Gatch’s, and the last at Rev. John Collins’s.

Henry Boehm was the traveling companion of the senior
Bishop, and was specially useful in preaching to the Germans.
Boehm’s journal tells of the first Methodist preaching to his
thrifty and thoughtful countrymen in the West:

September 23 we reached one of Bishop Asbury’s best homes and dearest
friends—Philip Gatch. While the Bishop rested there I took a tour among the
Germans. Some of them had not heard preaching in their own tongue since they
left their native land. Tears flowed from many eyes, and they heard with delight
the word of life. What has God wrought since among the Germans!

September 30, 1809, the Western Conference commenced its session in Cincin-
nati. This was the first Conference held in what has since become the Queen
City of the West. There were some splendid men at this Conference, who were
destined, under God, to lay the foundations of Methodism in what is now the
mighty West. I heard some excellent preaching here.

Eight elders were ordained, among them Samuel Parker, Mile
Harper, John Collins, and Peter Cartwright. Boehm continues:

On Sunday, the 8th of Octoher, Bishop Asbury preached in the morning, Learner
Blackman in the afternoon, and Samuel Parker in the evening. The sermons
were all good, but Parker’s excelled. Over fifty years have passed away since ]
heard him, and yet the image of the eloquent Parker is before me, and I remem-
ber with what overwhelming pathos he dwelt on the “fellowship of His sufferings.”
The word ran through the audience like electricity, tears flowed, and shouts were
heard. It was a most appropriate sermon for the last before the Conference ad-
journed. It prepared the ministers for the work of suffering with their Lord if
they would reign with him.

Bishop Asbury then delivered to the Methodists in Cincinnati a farewell ad-
dress, which was not only able and ingenious, but truly affecting. We had spent
two Sabbaths there, and on the morrow were to take our departure. I heard (if-
teen sermons at this Conference from the master-minds of the West, men who
were giving tone and character to Methodism through all that vast region.

With regret we bid farewell to our kind friends in Cincinnati and started for the
South Carolina Conference, several of the preachers with us. We entered Ken-
tucky, and at midnight the Bishop called us up and we traveled twenty-five miles
to Mount Gerizim, where he had an appointment. Bishop McKendree here
preached a sweet sermon from “Ts it well with thee?” He used to inquire of his
lying sister, Frances Moore, whom I knew very well, “Is it well with thee?” ane

21 :
526 History of Methodism.

 

when he was himself on his death-bed he exclaimed, “All is well!” Bishop Av
bury preached from “Suffer the word of exhortation,” and then ordained.*

Bishop McKendree has completed his first round. His biog-
rapher says: “He introduced a new style of things in presiding
over the Annual Conferences; for while Bishop Asbury always
presided with dignity and impartiality, yet he was regarded by
the preachers as a father, and did not on all oecasions adhere
strictly to the Rules of Order in the management of Conference

business. His age, his long services, and his intimate acquaint-
ance with the whole work and with the workmen, gave him a po-
sition no one else could reasonably expect to occupy, and relieved
him from the necessity of attending rigidly to parliamentary
usage. But Bishop McKendree felt that his relation was in
some respects a different one. Many of those over whom he was
called to preside were older and more experienced than himself.
Besides, he was a man of method, as was evinced in every thing
he did and said, and had long since come to the conclusion that
a close adherence to established rules by deliberative bodies is
not only a protection to the minority and the president, but is
calculated to expedite business. And as he was prompt, impar-
tial, and courteous in deciding all such questions of law and or-
der as properly devolved upon him, he soon became, in the esti-
mation of the whole Connection, a model president.” +

Asbury’s criticism at the Virginia Conference was, “Mighty in
talk;” McKendree’s at the New York: “ We had much harmony,
peace, and love among the preachers; but business was done in the
most desultory manner, owing to an entire abandonment of man-
ner, and a flood of words. There were some attempts to correct
these errors, in order to facilitate- business, but they proved inef-
fectual. Friday the Conference concluded [ten days]; and in my
opinion the business might all have been done in six days.”

It may well be doubted whether there is any deliberative or
executive body which equals a Methodist Conference, as at pres-
ent constituted, in good order and the dispatch of business.
Coke, Asbury, and Whatcoat were Englishmen, and although
wise, great, and good, could not conform their mode of adminis-

 

* Boehm says: “It was not his [Asbury’s] custom to tarry after Conference
adjourned. He moved right on, and often his horse was at the door and he was
ready to commence his journey as soon as the benediction was pronounced.”

+ Life and Times of McKendree, by Paine.
Fir st Delegated Conference. 527

 

tration to American ideas. The native Bishop “placed himself
and his office in harmony with the feelings and sentiments of
his countrymen, by refusing to govern except according to law.”

The first delegated General Conference met in New York, May
1, 1812, composed of ninety members. Now was to be tested the
fealty of her representatives in the highest judicatory of the
Church to the Constitution itself. ‘Methodism was about to
pass the ordeal which the civil government had experienced ir
the first Congress under the Federal Constitution. And as in
the latter case the practical application of the constitution was
rendered both more difficult and important on account of the
novelty of the experiment and the danger of introducing prece-
dents which might lead to disastrous consequences, so in the
former the utmost caution was necessary to begin the adminis-
tration of the newly adopted organic laws of the Church ‘con-
formably to the true intent and spirit of the ecclesiastical con-
stitution. In both the highest qualities of mind and heart were
needed. There was this obvious difference, however, in the
charters under which they respectively acted—the two govern-
ments not only differ in their origin, nature, design, and mode
of operations, but moreover, while the power vested in Congress
is limited by specific grants of power, to be exercised for the gen-
eral welfare, the delegated General Conference possessed, by con-
stitutional right, all power originally belonging to the whole body
they represented, except certain clearly defined prohibitions.” *

Among the ninety seated in “old John Street Church” we
gladly recognize such veterans as Garrettson, Cooper, Ware, Lee,
Bruce, Reed, and Snethen; and a fair proportion of that second
generation of men whose lives are Methodist history — Soule,
Hedding, Bangs, Pickering, Sale, Blackman, Sargent, and Ros-
zell; but a special interest gathers about a sprinkling of pieked
young men who come the first time to the front—Lovick Pierce,
John Early, Thomas L. Douglass, James E. Glenn, Samuel J) an- ‘
woody, Enoch George, and R. R. Roberts.

At the opening of the Conference Bishop McKendree made a
communication in writing, portions of which were referred to
appropriate committees. The address was designed to call the
attention of the Conference to the condition and wants of the
Church. It was the beginning of episcopal addresses, which

* Life and Times of McKendree, by Paine.

 
528 History of Methodism.

 

have been continued from that time. Bishop Asbury made a
long verbal address, directing it chiefly to his colleague.

Asbury had been trained in the English Wesleyan school, and
his presidency had been similar, in some respects, to the British
system of holding Conferences. The sessions held under him
had not been conducted very strictly by parliamentary rules.
An octogenarian who was present describes the scene:

McKendree’s address was read in Conference, but as it was a new thing the
aged Bishop (Asbury) rose to his feet ‘immediately after the paper was read, and
addressed the junior Bishop to the following effect: “I have something to say to
you before the Conference.” The junior also rose to his feet, and they stood face
to face. Bishop Asbury went on to say: “This is a newthing. I never did busi-
ness in this way, and why is this new thing introduced?” The junior Bishop
promptly replied: “You are our father, we are your sons; you never have had
need of it. I am only a brother, and have need of it.” Bishop Asbury said no
moré, but sat down with a smile on his face. The scene is now before me. I be-
lieve the Bishops have pursued the plan ever since.

At this Conference local deacons were made eligible to the of-
fice of elders. A motion to remove the Book Concern to the
city of Baltimore—no property as yet having been purchased in
New York—was lost, and Daniel Hitt and Thomas Ware were
elected Book Agents. The Western Conference disappears from
the Minutes, its territory being divided into the Ohio and the
Tennessee Conferences. An old question is up. Asbury’s
journal says: “After a serious struggle of two days in General
Conference to change the mode of appointing presiding elders,
it remains as it was. Means had been used to keep back every
presiding elder who was known to be favorable to appointments
by the Bishops, and long and earnest speeches have been made
to influence the, minds of the members. I had seventeen of the
preachers to dine with me. There was vinegar, mustard, and a
still greater portion of oil; but the disappointed parties sat down
in peace, and we enjoyed our sober meal.”

The venerable man who had been permitted to see the Church
organization completed, and all its vital forces in full play, never
met another General Conference. His journal in June, 1813:
“T have made my will, appointing Bishop McKendree, Daniel
Hitt, and Henry Boehm my executors. If Ido not in the mean-
time spend it, I shall leave, when I die, an estate of two thou-
sand dollars, I believe. I give it all tothe Book Concern. This
money, and somewhat more, I have inherited from dear depart-
Bishop Asbury’s Last Conference. 529

 

3d Methodist friends in the State of Maryland who died child-
less, besides some legacies which I have never taken. Let all
return and continue to aid the cause of piety.” He kept mov-
ing round among the churches until 1815, when we find him
again in the West. “My friends in Philadelphia,” he says,
“gave me a little light, four-wheeled carriage, but God and the
Baltimore Conference made me a richer present—they gave me
John Wesley Bond for a traveling companion. Has he his equal
on the earth for excellences of every kind as an aid? I groan one
minute with pain, and shout Glory! the next.” He is ever and
anon in the houses of those whose parents and grandparents
were converted under his ministry in the Eastern States. “In
this family I have served four generations,” is the record on
baptizing a child in Kentucky. “I preached in his grandfa-
ther’s house in Maryland in 1774,” is the record as he concludes
a religious service in a log-cabin at the western foot of the Alle-
ghany Mountains,” and adds: “God still dwells with this fam-
ily.” At the Ohio Conference he is present, but unable to pre-
side; he says: “Johu Sale finished the plan of the stations from a
general draft I furnished him. We closed our labors in peace.
One thing I remark—our Conferences are out of their infancy;
their rulers can now be called from amongst themselves.”

In the journey with his colleague, on the road from the Ohio
Conference, they “had a long, earnest talk about the affairs of
the Church; I told him the Western part of the empire would be
the glory of America, and ought to be marked out for five Con-
ferences;” and he marked out five where now are fifty.

At Bethlehem, near Lebanon, the Tennessee Conference met.
October, 1815. It was Bishop Asbury’s last session. He says:
“Sabbath.—I ordained the deacons and preached a sermon, in
which Dr. Coke was remembered. My eyes fail. I resign the
stations to Bishop McKendree; I will take away my feet.”
Thirty times in thirty-one years he had visited the South. “I
wish to visit Mississippi, but am resigned.” Let us glance at
the situation in the West: In the Ohio Conference David Young
is presiding elder of the Ohio District, Jacob Young of the Mus-
kinoeum, James Quinn of the Scioto, John Sale of the Miami,
Samuel Parker of the Kentucky, and Charles Holliday of the
Salt River District. They are helped by such men as William
McMahon, Marcus Lindsey, J. B. Finley, and Benjamin Lakin

34
530 History of Methodism. .

 

Henry B. Bascom appears on the list as junior preacher on the
Mad River Circuit. In the Tennessee Conference Thomas L.
Douglass is the presiding elder of the Nashville District, John
McGee of, the Cumberland, Peter Cartwright of the Green Riv-
er, James Axley of the Holston, Jesse Walker of the Illinois, 8.
H. Thompson of the Missouri, and Samuel Sellers of the Mis.
sissippi District. Among their helpers are John Lane, Thomas
Nixon, Lewis Garrett, Joshua Boucher, Benjamin Malone, Jesse
Junningham, John Henninger, John Mennifee; serving a mem-
bership of 46,500, reaching from the Lakes to the Gulf.

Despairing of keeping up with the Annual Conference ses-
sions any longer, Asbury moved by slow and painful stages, flat-
tering himself with the prospect of meeting the General Confer-
ence, which was to assemble in Baltimore on the 2d of May, 1816.
As the veteran climbed the mountains for the last time, leaving
the Valley of the Mississippi behind him, he doubtless paused at
many a point in the winding road to take a sad but grateful
farewell of the scene of so many labors and hardships. A rich
and wide-extending view spread out below him. Deep and varied
tints of autumn were upon fields and forests. The West, the
great West, blessed with a Christian civilization, has begun its
mighty career. And what a part had God permitted Francis
Asbury to bear in that work since he first crossed these mount-
ains twenty-seven years ago!

With his faithful traveling companion, Bond, the Bishop reached
Richmond, Va., where he preached March 24, in the old Method-
ist Church. They bore him from his carriage—for he was unable
either to walk or stand—to the pulpit, and seated him on a table
prepared for that purpose. Though he had to make frequent
pauses in the course of his sermon, recovering breath, yet he spoke
nearly an hour, from Rom. ix. 28. This closed his public labors
on earth. Friday he reached the house of his old friend, George
Arnold, of Spottsylvania. He had hoped to reach Fredericks.
burg, twenty miles beyond, but failing strength prevented. The
next morning: the family proposed to send for a physician, but he
objected, saying that his breath would be gone before the doctor
could get there. On Sunday, at eleven o’clock, he desired that
the family might be called together; and at his request Rev. J.
W. Bond sung, prayed, and expounded Rev. xxi. Throughout
the exercises he appeared to be very much engaged in devotion.
Bishop Asbury’s Deatn. 531

 

They offered him a little barley-water, but he was unable to
swallow, and his speech began to fail. Observing the distress
of his beloved Bond, he raised his hand and looked joyfully at
him; and in reply to his question if he felt the Lord Jesus Christ
to be precious, he seemed to exert all his remaining strength.
and in token of complete victory raised both hands. A few
minutes after, as he sat upon his chair, without a struggle, and
with great composure, he breathed his last. His body was de-
posited in the burial-ground of the family, but a month later,
at the request of the Church in Baltimore, was taken up and
brought to that city. A vast concourse of citizens attended the
corpse as it was carried from the General Conference room in
Light street to the place prepared for its reception in Eutaw
street, preceded by Bishop McKendree as the officiating minis-
ter, and followed by the members of the General Conference as
chief mourners. The corpse was placed in Eutaw Street Church,
and a funeral-sermon preached by Bishop McKendree, after
which the body was deposited in a vault under the recess of the
pulpit. There it remained for forty years, when it was removed
to Mt. Olivet Cemetery.

Beginning his itinerant ministry at seventeen Francis As-
bury ended it in his seventy-first year. During that time it
is estimated that he averaged a sermon or an exhortation a day.
The extent of his journeys, during his ministry of forty-five
years in the United States, was equal, upon an average, to the
circumference of the globe every five year's—and this by private
conveyance, mainly horseback. During the last thirty-two years
of his life he presided in. two hundred and thirty-four An-
nual Conferences, and ordained about four thousand ministers.

To him has been justly applied the remark of a British essay-
ist, that it is vain to talk of men numerically: if the passions of
a man are exalted to a summit like the majestic steadiness with
which St. Paul points out the single object of his life, and the
unquenchable courage with which he walks toward it, he is a
thousand men!

es
CHAPTER XXXVI.

Canada Methodism: The Planting and the Separation—Clergy Reserves—Ryer-
son—Case—Bangs—Losee—Church Union in the Dominion—New Rules—
Joshua Soule Book Agent—Enoch George and R. R. Roberts elected va
—A Conference down the Mississippi, organized in 1816.

HE war with England‘(1812-1815) began and ended since

the last General Conference. The usual ill result upon
spiritual religion, and the special effect of disturbing the rela-
tions of Canada Methodism with the Mother Church, followed.

The original planting of Methodism North of the St. Law-
rence was instrumentally due to what on one side is censured as
toryism, and on the other is praised as loyalty. In 1780 a Wes-
leyan local preacher—Tuffey—as commissary of a British regi-
ment, came to Quebec, and preached there with permanent re-
sults. As he was the first in Lower Canada, so Major Neal, of a
cavalry regiment, was the first Methodist preacher in Upper
Canada. A native of Pennsylvania, at the breaking out of the
Revolution he joined the British Army, and after the war he
taught school and preached on the Niagara frontier.

The exodus of the Embury family, first from the city to the
_ rural parts of New York and thence, in 1774, across the line, gave
to Canada Methodism the same origin with that of John Street.
While mowing in his field in 1773 the good Philip injured him-
self so severely as to die suddenly at the age of forty-five years,
“greatly beloved and much lamented.” His widow and sons,
and brothers and kindred, including Paul and Barbara Heck,
took shelter under the flag of George the Third, at the approach
of ’76, and belonged to the first Methodist class in Augusta,
Upper Canada; and there they are buried.

William Losee was sent over by Bishop Asbury from the New
York Conference in 1790, and went again next year “as soon aa
the winter was well set in and the ice on the St. Lawrence strong
enough to allow crossing with a horse.” He was followed by
Sawyer, and Coleman, and other missionaries. In 1805 William
Case, “father of Indian missions in Canada,’ and Henry
Ryan were appointed to the Bay of Quinte. “Father Case” did
more for Indian evangelization than Eliot or Brainerd. Nathan

(582)
NSS

Vy

 
Canada—The “Clergy Reserves” Question. 533

 

Bangs went to Canada in 1799 as a surveyor, but for want of
constant employment he taught school. In 1800 he was awak-
ened and converted through the instrumentality of the Revs.
Coleman and Sawyer, near Queenstown, and commenced in 1801
as an itinerant preacher under the direction of the presiding
elder of the district—Joseph Jewell. He spent the first seven
years of his laborious ministerial life in Canada, after which he
entered the work in the United States, and earned an imperisha-
ble record. In 1811 the apostolic Asbury made a visitation to
Canada on his way to the Genesee Conference, with which it was
connected. In his journal he says: “Our ride has brought us
through one of the finest countries I have ever seen; the timber
of noble growth, the cattle well-looking, crops abundant, on a
most fruitful soil. To the people my soul is much united.”

The Boswellian Boehm gives an account of crossing the river
before steam ferries and suspension bridges were known: “We
crossed the St. Lawrence in romantic style. We had four Indi-
ans to paddle us over. They lashed three canoes together, and
put our horses into them, their fore feet into one canoe, their
hind feet in another. It was a singular load—three canoes,
three passengers, three horses, and four Indians. They were to
take us over for three dollars. It was nearly three miles across
to where we landed.”

Anticipating the regular course of history a little: the most
influential man in Canadian Methcdism was one of an intellect-
ual family raised up among themselves—Egerton Ryerson, D.D.
His bold and powerful handling of the Clergy Reserves question
brought. him into notoriety when a young man, and he continued
long in important public service, and must live in grateful re-
membrance. The case stood thus:

The “Clergy Reserves” consisted of one-seventh of all the surveyed lands of
Upper Canada, set apart by the “Constitutional Act” which established the par-
liamentary government of Upper Canada, for the “support of a Protestant cler-
gy,” in contradistinction to the Roman Catholic clergy of Lower Canada, who
were largely endowed by tithes and lands, It was intended that Upper Canada
should be an English and Protestant province, while Lower Canada should be
French and Roman Catholic. Jo Lower Canada there was no legislative enduw-
ment for Protestantism, in Upper Canada there was no legislative endowment for
Romanism.

It was now claimed that the “Protestant clergy” of the “Constitutional Act”

were the clergy of the Church of England alone; it was the Established Church of
Upper Canada as well as of England and Ireland. Not only was one-seventh of the
534 History of Methodism.

 

lands of the Province claimed as the patrimony of the clergy of that Church, but
large English parliamentary grants were applied for, and a large endowment of
land was granted for a University College, including a Faculty of Theology, all
under the direction of the authorities of that Church, and based on its Articles
of Religion and Service of Worship.

But even this monstrous system might not have excited much attention or op-
position, had if not appeared that the great object of the whole scheme was not
merely the support of the Church of England in Canada, but the exterminatior
of other religious persuasions, especially of the Methodists, who were represented
as republicans and overranning the country, and whose influence was represented
as hostile to the civil and religious institutions of England.*

After a conflict of twenty years, religious liberty—equality be-
fore the law—was secured for all Protestant Churches. Others
shared in the benefit, but Methodism led in the bold challenge
and in the protracted struggle, and lost nothing by it, as its com-
manding position in Canada this day shows.

A delegation from the London Methodist Missionary Society
was present at the opening of the General Conference of 1816,
asking the Americans to retire from the field. Two resolutions
adopted at Baltimore show the drift of the reply:

Although the late hostilities between the two countries separated for some time
those provinces from the immediate superintendency of the Methodist Episcopal
Church in America, yet all the circuits, except Quebec, were as regularly supplied
as circumstances would admit of, with American preachers.

It furthermore appears, from written and verbal communications, that it is the

desire of the great majority of the people in Upper and Lower Canada to be sup-
plied, as heretofore, with preachers from the United States.

Canadian Methodists were at a disadvantage in any contest
among citizens. The chief charge against them at home, and the
common ground of opposition during many years, was that their
ministers were disaffected to the government and institutions of
the country, being ordained and controlled by bishops in the
United States. The agitation began now which ended in the with-
drawal of the jurisdiction of the American General Conference
from Canada; not, however, until English Wesleyan missionaries
had. been sent into the field, and complications had arisen that
required delicate negotiations to preserve fraternal relations.

That portion of America which people in the United States ha-
bitually think of as contracted and cold is indeed the shoulders
of the continent—its broadest part. It is not only fertile in soil
and bracing in climate, but nourishes one of the most spiritual, |

 

* Canadian Methcdism: Its Epochs and Characteristics. 1882.
The Book Concern—Methodist Magazine. 538

 

cultivated, and aggressive forms of Methodism in the world. In
their institutions of learning, their tasteful, commodious church-
es, their missionary offerings, their earnest piety, and their ex-
emplification of the modes, as wellas the spirit, of Wesleyanism,
they fall behind none. After several adjustments and forms in

‘hurch organization, Canadian Methodism, in the centennial
year, presents itself as one compact body. Until 1874 there
were five bodies of Methodists: the Methodist Episcopal Church,
the Primitive Methodists, the Bible Christian Methodists, the
New Connection Methodists, and the Wesleyan Methodists. In
1874 the New Connection Methodists and the Methodists of the
Wesleyan Church were united, and in 1883 the remaining bodies
were joined together, and now these five, with a membership
aggregating nearly two hundred thousand, make one common
Methodism for the Dominion of Canada.

It was necessary to change the management of the Book Con-
cern. Though its capital was reported at $80,000, it was embar-
rassed. Joshua Soule and T. Mason were elected Agents, and
directed to resume the publication of the Methodist Magazine,
which had been started in 1789, but was suspended the year fol-
lowing. In 1818 it was resumed, under the editorship of Joshua
Soule. Not less than ten thousand subscribers were obtained
the first year. The work was published monthly until 1841,
when it assumed the title of Quarterly Review, in which character
it continued. The magazine would compare indifferently with
modern literature of its kind; but it was a great step in advance.
Its doctrinal sermons and essays, its biographical sketches, and
its occasional letters of news, with now and then a review of
some author who had indulged, hitherto with impunity, in an
assault upon Methodist doctrine or polity, made good reading
for the times. It was a medium of communication for preach-
ers and people; and while it edified and united the Church,
it also prepared the way for the weekly visits of the Christian
Advocates, and the more elaborate Quarterly. Joshua Soule
frankly notified the Conference of the risk they ran in mak-
ing him Book Agent, for he knew nothing about the business.
However, upon his general force of character they elected him.
He found the Concern without credit, and the stock old and com-
paratively valueless. He opened new books, and as a loan of
money was indispensable he procured it from Baltimore, his
536 History of Methodism.

 

friends there—Littig and Bryce—indorsing for him. The Book
Concern prospered under his administration. He had no diffi-
culty afterward in getting all the money he wanted—even during
the financial crisis which occurred while he was in the agency.
With Mason, his assistant, he boxed the books himself, snd had
few or no losses by transmissions or letters. The Hymn-book
and Discipline were the principal publications. He was his own
book editor, and went home at night and worked on the Magazine,
often till twelve o’clock. Hence it was pleasantly called, by an
editorial friend, “the work of darkness.”

Two new Conferences were added—Missouri and Mississippi.
The annual salary of a traveling preacher was changed in 1800
from sixty-four to eighty dollars, and in 1816 from eighty to one
hundred dollars. The ratio of representation in the General
Conference was altered from five to seven. A new clause was
inserted in the Discipline, making it the duty of the Bishops to
prescribe a course of study and of reading to be pursued by
undergraduates or candidates for the ministry.

Of course the old question of the election of presiding, elders
by the Conference, out of a number nominated by the Bishop,
was up, and this time with a new feature in the way of an amend-
ment, which was accepted by the New York mover:

Subsequently Nathan Bangs offered to amend the first answer by appending
the following words to it: “And the presiding elder so elected and appointed shall
remain in office four years, unless sooner dismissed by the mutual consent of the
Bishop and the Conference, or unless he be elected to some other office by the General
Conference. But no presiding elder shall be removed from office during the term
of four years without his consent, unless the reasons for such removal be stated to
him in the presence of the Conference, who shall decide without debate.”

The whole question was lost by a vote of forty-two to sixty,
showing an increased conservative majority.

Slavery also had an airing. Since 1808 each Annual Confer-
ence had been authorized “to make its own rules about buying
and selling slaves;” but in 1816 the General Conference resolved
that “no slave-holder shall be eligible to any official station in
our Church hereafter, where the laws of the State in which he
lives will admit of emancipation, and permit the liberated slave
to enjoy freedom.” This was a compromise measure. In 1812,
a “motion,” by an Ohio member, “requesting the Conference to
inquire into the nature and moral tendency of slavery was voted
to lie on the table.”
Bishops George and Roberts. 537

 

Enoch George, of the Baltimore Conference, and Robert Rich-
ford Roberts, of the Philadelphia, were elected and consecrated
Bishops; the former receiving fifty-seven, and the latter fifty-
five votes, out of one hundred and six.

Enoch George was a native of the Northern Neck of Virginia,
a region that has been prolific of great men. He was about fifty
years of age. Atthe call of Bishop Asbury he labored in South
Carolina and Georgia several years. His health failing, he're-
turned to Virginia, and about 1800 entered the Baltimore Con-
ference, where he filled various important appointments and dis-
tricts. He is thus described:

Short of stature, but stoutly built. His features were grave, and expressive of
strong emotions; his eyes, small and deeply seated beneath an overhanging, heavy
brow, twinkled or melted into tears, as the sentiments he uttered might demand;
and his voice thrilled or softened the hearts of his auditory, as he poured out his
soul with a pathos the writer never heard excelled; for he can never forget a ser-
mon preached in Tennessee at his first visit to that Conference in 1817. His text
was, “And this is the victory that overcometh the world—even our faith.” There
was something in his manner of address, in the tones of his voice, the subdued
yet earnest and fervid spirit of the preacher, that affected the whole audience.
He explained faith, and illustrated its victory by Bible incidents, in the most sim-
ple and appropriate style. Since then I have heard many impressive sermons
from the best preachers of the land; they have instructed, charmed, and thrilled
me; but I have never heard a man who so strongly wrought upon my feelings,
and kept me bathed in tears from the beginning to the close of his sermon. The
image of that man of God and the scenes of that hour are still vividly fixed in
my memory. He wept over sinners; tears were constantly welling up in his eyes,
and without pausing he would slip a finger behind his spectacles and brush away
the blinding tear, to be replaced by another at the very next sentence.*

After twelve years of episcopal service he died, greatly be-
loved. His administrative ability was not of a high order. His
feeling of self-distrust was such as to make the duties of pub-
lic intercourse, which his office drew upon him, embarrassing and
painful. For constitutional questions he had no taste. Paul
never spoke with more plainness to Peter than did his senior col-
league to Enoch George, who held on his way and let consti-
tutional constructions take care of themselves.

The parents of R. R. Roberts moved from Maryland when he
was a child, and settled at the western base of the Alleghany
Mountains, and amid such scenes he grew up.

At the General Conference of 1808 he appeared as a member,

 

* Life and Times of McKendree, by Paine.
588 History of Methodism.

clad in homespun style, but such was the impression produced
by his preaching that at the solicitation of many of the most
intelligent members of the Church, after the close of the ses-
sion, Bishop Asbury directed him to quit his work in the West-
ern backwoods, and take charge of the Baltimore City Station.
From the competent source before quoted we take the measure
of the man and preacher:

The writer first saw Bishop Roberts at the Tennessee Conference of 1817, held
‘rn Franklin, and heard him preach ‘in the court-house, on Heb. ii. 3. He held
ax, immense audience as if spell-bound for more than an hour, while he portrayed
the fearful consequences of neglecting the “great salvation.” He weighed two
hundred and twenty pounds. His whole person indicated him to be one of nat-
ure’s noblemen. His features were large, benignant, and intellectual. His head
was of an uncommon size, his forehead high and massive, his eyes blue or hazel
colored, his manner of address always easy and graceful, his voice a deep bass, but
soft and musical; there was nothing constrained or unnatural in its modulation,
but it was an earnest and animated conversational tone. When excited by
“thoughts that burn,” his majestic frame seemed to expand, and his * mind-illu-
mined face” glowed. Many years afterward I heard him again in Huntsville, Al-
abama, on Sabbath morning of the Conference. The text was, “Alleluia: for the
Lord God omnipotent reigneth.” It was a glorious sermon—worthy of the man
and the occasion, and as worthy of the theme as any I ever heard.

He was remarkable for humility and simple dignity of manners. He was sur-
prised at his own popularity as a preacher, and his election to the episcopacy al-
most overwhelmed him. He always shunned notoriety, and but for conscience’
sake would have retired to his humble cottage-home, in the most secluded portion
of Indiana, and spent his life unnoticed and unknown.

He made an excellent Bishop. The only deficiencies under which he labored
originated in his size and his sympathies. Owing to his great weight he failed
on many occasions to reach the Conferences at the proper time, and occasionally
to get to them at all; for, on account of the want of public conveyances, and the
condition of the roads, especially in the West and South, he was obliged to travel
on horseback, and no horse could be found capable of bearing him through his
long tours. His sympathies were so strong that he could not always resist their
influence, even though his judgment might demur.

Four years before it had been provided “that the Bishops shall
bave authority, in the interval of the General Conference, to ap-
point another Annual Conference down the Mississippi, if they
find it to be necessary.” They were not able to do any thing
in that way. Now the organization had been determined on
definitely, and Bishop Roberts’s first visitation was to the Mis-
sissippi Conference.
CHAPTER XXXVII.

Difficulties of Planting Methodism in the South-west—Useful Local Preachers
and Laymen—Vick, Bowman, Tooley, Ford, French—From Tombigbee to At-
takapas—Nolley’s Death—Occupation of New Orleans—Three Conferences-—
Lasley, Griffin, Drake, Sellers, Hearn, Hewit, Nixon, Shrock, Owens.

HE territory of the original Natchez Circuit was enriched
in the first decade of the century by the immigration of

Methodist families from the two Carolinas and from Georgia—

Owens, Robertson, Baldridge (five brothers), and Forman. After

getting class-meetings and prayer-meetings under way, they re-

solved to build a church. An eligible spot near a spring having
been selected and secured to trustees according to Discipline,
proclamation was made for all who were willing to build the

Lord’s house to meet on a certain day with axes and other tools.

They met, and the name of Cesar, a godly slave who asked to

have a hand in the work, is preserved as one of the company.

“This will do for our first log,” said one, running his eye up the

shaft of a tall tree—and he raised his ax. “Stop!” said Thom-

as Owens. “Stop a moment, if you please. Neighbors and
friends, we want the blessing of God on our work; let us begin
it with prayer.” They lifted their hats and kneeled on the
ground, while Thomas Owens prayed so fervently that they felt
it was a prophecy of the future prosperity of Spring Hill Church;
and so it was. In time finer structures succeeded the log-house,
yet the name of each, and of the camp-ground, was Spring Hill.

Many souls were born there. The sons of Owens and Robert-

son were converted and were among the first preachers the

Mississippi Territory gave to the Mississippi Conference. “ Lit-

tle Tommie Owens,” as he was called, was for fifty-five years a

useful and very popular minister. It was a hard task of his life,

even when he was eighty years old, to observe the scriptural in-
junction—“ Likewise must the deacons be grave.” The logical

Winans used to praise and covet the power of Owens in reaching

the feelings of an audience. John J. Robertson filled circuits

and colored missions with fidelity, retired late in life to the local
ranks, and died in his seventy-ninth year, leaving a son who
represents him in the traveling ministry.

In the same region, and at an early day, rose up Hopewell and
(539)
540 History of Methodism.

 

Bethel, other centers of spiritual power, where revivals and
camp-meetings and Conferences made history, and from which
laborers went into the vineyard. Considering their influence,
such places may well be called sacred.

The coming of Revs. Samuel Sellers and Miles Harper from
the Western Conference, in the autumn of 1809, was a signal
event to the Church in Mississippi—they left their impress upon
the field as few others have done. But before their arrival cer-
tain local preachers came, and were soon followed by others, who
mightily strengthened the stakes. Newit Vick, with an interest-
ing family, wasfrom Virginia, a preacher of several years’ stand-
ing and of excellent ability and character. When the attempt
was made in 1807 to build a church in Natchez, though living
many miles in the country he headed the list with the largest
subscription ($150). In his house near Spring Hill the first Con-
ference was held in 1813. Public-spirited and zealous, he and
his large family were a blessing in social as well as in Church
life. The advantage of a certain location near the Walnut Hills
was taken in by his intelligent eye; the ridges converging there
led out into fat lands, and tapped fertile valleys, and by these
natural roads a future commerce would seek the river at this
point. He possessed it, laid it off into lots, and the city of Vicks-
burg began to rise. He died in 1819.

About 1810 Matthew Bowman, of South Carolina, settled in
Amite county, and without delay opened his commission as a
preacher. Soon he collected members enough for the nucleus
of a society and, selecting a central point for the older setile-
ments and the newer, they built the famous Midway Church.
From it have gone out standard-bearers in other communities
aud in other States. Bowman, like Vick, preached far and near,
baptized and married the people, and buried their dead, and set
them an example of energy, thrift, and benevolence in every-day
life. The itinerant pastors on their four and six weeks’ circuits
found them helpers indeed. At the age of three-score and ten
Matthew Bowman died, saying, “I find the gospel the power of
God unto salvation.’ Wm. Winans, who had married and fixed
his home near Midway and was now become the leading minister
of the South-west, preached the funeral-sermon; and seldom had
preacher so good a subject. Says the historian of those times:
* One of the last great joys of the patriarch’s heart on earth was
The Natchez Country—Useful Local Preachers. 541

 

the powerful conversion of his son James. It occurred a year
before his death.” He also entered the local ministry and, after
preaching for many years in Southern Mississippi, removed west
of the river and continued his usefulness in the Ouachita coun-
try, living beyond seventy-five years.

Henry Tooley, M.D., a native of North Carolina, settled in
Natchez not later than 1811, where his father and brother pre-
ceded him, exerting an elevating influence as citizens and Chris-
tians. Of Dr. Tooley our historian says: “In all Church mat.
ters he took an active part. He was a pillar in the Church.
Until enfeebled by age he often officiated as leader in the prayer
and class meetings, in addition to his pulpit labors in town and
country;” and he died at the age of seventy-five.

The parents of John Ford were of Huguenot ancestry. He
and his wife were converted in South Carolina under the minis-
try of George Dougherty. A family of eight sons and five
daughters resembled their parents in fine intelligence and a no-
ble personal appearance. About 1807 John Ford led a small
colony from Marion District to that beautiful and fertile spot in
the Tennessee River Valley where Huntsville now stands. A year
of isolation from civilized society and of exposure to Indian dep.
redations caused them to quit their new home and, building flat-
boats, they floated down to the Natchez country. John Ford
made his home on Pearl River, east of the older settlements.
He was a model citizen, of commanding and sanctifying influ-
ence. His home wasa rallying-point for Methodism. There he
dispensed a Christian hospitality; and as Vick had entertained
the first session of the Territorial Conference at Spring Hill,
Ford entertained the second session on Pearl River. Four of
his sons became Methodist preachers. One of them—Thomas
Ford—organized the society and built the first Methodist church
at the capital of the State, and had it ready in time for holding
the convention to arrange the Centennial celebrations of 1839
John Ford, jr. and David, an older brother, gave to Texas Method.
ism their useful ministry. Washington Ford was admitted into
the Conference in 1830 and, after ten years in the itinerancy,
rendered acceptable service as a local preacher until his death.*

 

*These items, and many following in this chapter, are gathered mainly from
the “Introduction of Protestantism into Mississippi and the South-west,” by Rey
J. G. Jones (1866); and his MS. History of Mississippi Methodism.

2d
542 History of Methodism.

 

John French, an Irishman, but with five or six years’ experi-
ence as a traveling preacher in the Virginia Conference, found
his way into the Tombigbee Valley in 1810. He had married,
and must therefore locate—not to get rich, but to support his
family. His coming was a benediction to the people and the
preachers too, for Sturdevant had been succeeded by Michael
Burge and John W. Kennon, and these young preachers needed
halp in administering the sacraments as well as in discipline.
When Burge retired from this field (for the itinerancy relieves
by change) John 8. Ford was sent to reénforce it.*

In any just account of the rise and progress of the Church in
the wilderness, mention must be made of certain godly families
that were providentially dispersed as leaven in the lump or as
lights in a dark place. Judge Warner, of South Carolina, set-
tled on the Bogue Chitto as early as 1803. Of his seven sons
four became preachers, and a fifth an exhorter. Peter Felder also,
from the old Edisto Circuit, and others—Sandell, Bickham, Bul-
lock, and Connerly — made their home on the waters of Tangipa-
hoa and Bogue Chitto, streams flowing into Lake Pontchartrain.
These had been trained by such pastors as Isaac Smith, Lewis
Myers, James Jenkins, and Reddick Pierce, and they brought
their family altars with them. They sanctified the Sabbath,
supported camp-meetings, built churches, and were the rallying-
points and recruiting stations for the itinerant preachers who
ranged at large. In the valley of Pearl River were Rawles—two
of them preachers—Reagan, Hope H. Lenoir, and other Obed-
edoms with whom the ark of the Lord rested. Going still east-
ward. to the Tombigbee Valley, and to the Chickasawha, Buck-
ato: ue, and other streams emptying into Pascagoula Bay, we meet
the names of McRae, Godfrey, Horn, Boykin, Funches, Easley,
and Hand, with the Church in their houses. Their descendants
of the second and third generations have taken the gospel with
them and planted the Church in many of the thriving scenes of
our later civilization.

 

*He was not of the Pearl River family of Fords, but after full proof as an
evangelist on the frontier, he returned to Georgia, where in old age and well be
loved he lately died. J. W. Kennon was one of a gifted and consecrated family
of prothers—the other two being Robert L. and Charles L. He died at his post
east of the Mississippi, but gave a son (Rev. Robert W. Kennon) to Texas, where
he rendered long and valuable service to the Church.
Mission Work in War—-Fort Mims Massacre. 543

 

In the spring of 1812 four young men, on horseback, take the
road to the West. They are missionaries from South Carolina—
Thomas Griffin, Richmond Nolley, Lewis Hobbs, and Drury Pow-
ell. At Milledgeville, Georgia, they get passports to go through
the Indian Nation, of three hundred and fifty miles; for the Creeks
or Muskogees are directly on their path, and to maintain peace
with them the Government is careful to keep out mischief-mak-
ing men. The missionaries represent to His Excellency what
sort of men they are, he is satisfied, their papers are made out,
and with a bow they are retiring. “Stop, brethren,” says one of
them, the pale Nolley, who believed that prayer was never amiss;
“stop! The Governor has given us passports through the Na-
tion; let us now ask God to give him a passport from this world
to a better.’ The Governor and his secretary were called to
their knees, and they prayed there.

Passing through the wilderness, crossing five rivers and lying
out eleven nights, they arrived safely at the Tombigbee Mis-
sion, where Nolley’s appointment was. He entered upon it at
once, visiting and praying with every family on both sides of
the river where he had access, teaching the negroes, catechising
the children, keeping his fasts and his appointments to preach.
Next spring he was joined by John Shrock, from the Dutch-fork
of Edisto, and a heavenly-minded young man—John Ira Ellis Byrd
—who gave fifty years of blessed service in the field he was now
going to. They were both from the South Carolina Conference,
and just risen to deacon’s orders. Not many came through the
wilderness after them for the next two years. War was begun.
Tecumseh and his brother, the Prophet, had seized ‘the oppor-
tunity for revenge. Seeking a far-reaching combination, from
Canada to Florida, they visited the Southern tribes to bring
them into alliance with England. Arms and rewards were
to be furnished at Pensacola and Apalachicola, from ships that
were in those waters. The Choctaws and Chickasaws refused
the offer and under their chief, Pushmataha, furnished soldiers
for defense. The Creeks and Seminoles entered into the league,
and at the sign of hostilities the white settlements were thrown
into dismay. Deserting their homes, the people built forts, or
stations, into which families were crowded. Twelve or fourteen
of these were in the fork between the Alabama and Tombighee
rivers. The murder of individuals and familiesand an attack upor
544 History of Methodism.

 

some of the forts kept up alarm; but in August, 1813, Fort Mims,
a few miles east of the Alabama River, was attacked by several
hundred Indians under the half-breed chief Weatherford, and a
horrid massacre followed. Twenty families in the fort were exter-
minated; only seventeen persons escaped out of two hundied and
fifty. The horror of Fort Mims drove nearly all the inhabit-
ants into forts west of the Tombigbee. When the Government
troops got in motion the Creek warriors met a terrible retribu-
tion, and a treaty of peace with the chiefs that were left was
made in August of the next year. The people slowly returned
to their desolated homes and farms and, but for the hardy in-
genuity and courage peculiar to frontier life, famine must have
followed war. The missionaries staid by the people. Shrock
insisted on a gun and a port-hole, but Nolley went from fort to
fort, a messenger of peace, improving the opportunity of preach-
ing to all the inhabitants. It was a wonder to many how, with-
out guard, the non-combatant Nolley passed on his preaching
mission. Whether fortunately preserved from collision with the
savages, or whether they were restrained by the Divine edict,
“Touch not mine anointed, and do my prophets no harm,’ so it
was, no harm befell him; and when the forts were abandoned the
gospel had been sounded abroad through all that country.
Nolley and Shrock had reached their field of labor when the
journey of their companions to the West was only half accom-
plished. Lewis Hobbs spent a year in the limits of the circuit
Tobias Gibson had cultivated, and his style reminded the people
of their first missionary. He was a weeping prophet, a lovely
spirit, and” his brief ministry made a deep impression. Part of
a year he labored in New Orleans, where his last strength was
spent. Hesunk into consumption and barely got back to Georgia
to die. Drury Powell preached one year beyond the river, and
concluded that the time had not come for those people, and re-
turned whence he came. Thomas Griffin was assigned to the
most distant and difficult post of all—the Ouachita Circuit.
He proved a chosen vessel of the Lord. Few have been so hon-
ored in planting Methodism in the South-west. He lived to a
good old age, and his memory is blessed by thousands. While
Nolley persuaded sinners and Hobbs wept over them, Griffin
made them quail and shrink, and hide their faces in fear and
shame. There was a clear, metallic ring in his nature. Without
Noiley, Hobbs, and Griffin. 545

 

the advantages of fortune or education he made his way by
stronger forces. By the camp-fire, on the forest-path, he studied.
One of the saddle-bags men—to whom Western civilization is
more indebted than to any other class of agents—he mastered
the hardy elements of frontier life. Sagacious in judgment,
decisive in action, strong in speech, generous-hearted. Memora-
ble awakenings and reformations of notorious and hopeless sin.
ners occurred under his ministry. He would “get on the sin-
ner’s track,” as he phrased it, and press him close, calling con-
science to witness as he went along. His language was often
more forcible than elegant. The presumptuous sinner was “one
of your gospel-slighting, heaven-neglecting, God - provoking,
devil-daring, hell-deserving rebels against the majesty of the
universe.” The drunkard, in his estimation, “was a far worse
character than the frantic suicide who would take a pistol and
blow out his brains, thus ridding his family of a pest, and leay-
ing his property for their maintenance; whereas the drunkard,
after disgracing his family with his besotted example, afflicting
them with his druuken revels, wasting his property, breaking
the heart of his wife, and hanging his poor, ragged, uneducated
children on the horns of poverty, is in the end a self-murderer.”
If he had occasion to hold up the superannuated debauchee in
order to show that the way of transgressors is hard, he would
describe him as “the very frazzle-ends of humanity; his de-
bauched carcass would disgrace a wolf-trap if put in it for bait.”
His scathing denunciation of vice stirred the ire and resentment
of the wicked. They had driven off Powell, and a leader of
roughs resolved, upon the reports that had reached him, to drive
off Griffin. This man went to one of his appointments, listened
to a terribly searching and courageous discourse, and after the
service was over remarked to some one who had heard his threat
that “Mr. Griffin improved on further acquaintance, and he reck-
oned it was best to have a few such preachers in the country, so
he would not interrupt him.”’

In 1820 the Mississippi delegation to the General Conference
consisted of two preachers—Thomas Griffin and John Lane.
Griffin was not pleased at the speeches of certain: Northern dele-
gates on slavery; they assumed its sinfulness as a foregone con-
clusion, and took ground that would have excluded Abraham
himself from the Christian Church. The epithets they applied

QA
546 History of Methodism.

 

to slave-holders were by no means to his taste. Southern dele
gates pleased him little better—their tone was excusatory rather
than defensive. To use his own expression, “They were too
much like suppliants to suit my feelings.” He made an off-hand
speech which. whatever else it lacked, was not lacking in energy
of expression. “It appears,” said he, “that some of our North-
ern brethren are willing to see us all damned and double-damned,
rammed, jammed, and crammed into a forty-six pounder, ‘and
touched off into eternity.” Thomas Griffin found a good wife
among the daughters of John Ford, and after presiding over
districts in Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama, that are now
Annual Conferences, he met the last enemy, as he had met all
others—like a Christian hero. ;

Noy. 1, 1813, the preachers from both sides of the river met
at Newit Vick’s to hold the first Mississippi Conference. The
time and place had been appointed by the Bishop; but on their
east and north-east the Creeks and Cherokees were hostile, and
it was yet doubtful whether or not the Choctaws and Chickasaws
would join Tecumseh’s league; therefore the, Tennessee Confer-
ence in October formally advised Bishop McKendree not to ad-
venture himself upon the Natchez trace. Samuel Sellers was
appointed president, and William Winans secretary. There
were ten members to begin with, and the session lasted four
days. For three years they thus met and transacted business,
sending their Minutes to Tennessee to be approved and incorpo-
rated into the Minutes of that body. Among eight appoint-
ments, extending from Louisiana to Alabama, we find “New
Orleans, William Winans.” There was in the treasury $39.18,
and “$30 of this amount was voted to Brother Winans to ena-
ble him to fill the Orleans Station.” Of the very few in that
very ungodly city of fifteen thousand inhabitants who were will-
ing to own themselves Methodists was a Dutchman — Jacob
Knobb—and his wife.* They received the young missionary
into their house and rented him, at a moderate price, the groun(<|-
floor for a school; it was also the chapel. Here William Wi-
uans acted school-master in the week, and parson of evenings
and Sundays. His congregations were small, and his member-
ship did not amount to the prescriptive number for a class-meet-

 

* Not only the man, but the house, deserves record. “He lived in a two-story
brick house on Bienville, between Chartres and Royal streets.” (J. G. Jones’s MS.)
The Church in New Orleans. 547

 

ing; but he scrupulously went through all the forms of public
and social worship, and had some comfortable times. The fleet
and army of Pakenham were beleaguering the city, and the ex-
citement and alarm of war quite closed the little school and
church on Bienville street, and he left in time to meet the Con-
ference at John Ford’s, on Pearl River, Nov. 14, 1814. No nu-
merical progress was reported, but a reconnoissance had been
made which was not without value in the future.

In the chapter which names Jacob Knobb let another humble
but faithful servant: of the Church in New Orleans be remem-
bered—also a foreigner—who stood firmly by the feeble and de-
spised cause when friends were few. Vrom the St. Domingo in-
surrection Theresa Canu escaped when a girl, and took refuge
in Wilmington, North Carolina. There she learned Methodism,
and thence removed to New Orleans. She lived long, bravely
bore the reproach of Christ, opened her house to the messengers
of her Master, and sung and shouted in the little conventicles
where Methodism took shelter for many humble years. Theresa
Canu was to Methodism in the Crescent City what Mrs. General
Russell (sister of Patrick Henry) was to it in the Holston coun-
try and Jane Trimble in Ohio, and what Lydia had been to the
Church at Philippi.

New Orleans appeared on the Minutes of 1812, with Mike
Harper as pastor. There is no record that he achieved any
thing. Next year the dying Hobbs meditated and prayed along
its streets, and sought out a few souls in private houses. Black-
man, when in charge of the district which nominally included
the city, made an occasional visit, but it is doubtful if he ever
preached asermon. As early as 1805 Elisha W. Bowman vainly
searched over the place for standing-ground. The year following
‘Winans’s retirement martial law and the closing scenes of war
did not increase the prospects of success. There was no fund to
support a missionary, and other fields could be occupied to more
advantage; so New Orleans disappears from the roll until 1819,
when Mark Moore served it as his predecessor had done—teach-
ing and preaching. After him came John Menefee, who subse-
quently died of yellow fever, and is buried there; and again a re-
treat was beaten from the city. In 1825 a young man, a native
of Kentucky, took charge there,* and from that time Methodism

* He reported twenty-three white members and sixty colored in 1826.
548 History of Methodism.

 

has stood in her lot. Next year Benjamin M. Drake was returned.
A man of zeal and consecration, he took a place in the early
history of Methodism on Lower Mississippi only second to that
of Winans: while in the fervor of his style and the telling effect
upon the hearts of the people of his long and laborious ministry,
he was his superior. About the time Methodism drove down her
stake to stay in New Orleans, Mobile took its place permanently
in the Minutes—John R. Lambuth, missionary. Both were very
hard places; and those who behold their strong and well-ordered
churches of to-day cannot realize the weary toil and waiting and
cost of life incurred before a firm footing was gained. Espe-
cially is this true of New Orleans. Within the life-time of a
generation it had been under three different governments. Ro-
manigm was intrenched, with all its appliances and consequences.
Thera was no Sabbath. A pleasure-loving, dissolute, and heter-
ogeneous population was divided between superstition and infi-
delity. The entrepot for the Valley of the Mississippi, New Or-
leans rapidly grew from fifteen to a hundred and fifty thousand
inhabitants, with all the concomitants of luxury and greed. Hun-
dreds, thousands of Methodists and other professing Christians
were swallowed up as they came within reach of that moral mael-
strom. Fascinated, insnared by its peculiar blandishments
of sin, they became ashamed of, and then denied, their faith.
William Winans was in sight when not on the spot to direct the
little band, to encourage, and to take advantage of opportunities,
and to rally them in time of temporary defeat; and he acted for
some while as agent to collect funds abroad to build a church in
the strongest stronghold of the world, the flesh, and the devil
that existed on the continent during the first thirty years of the
present century. If his success was not complete, he at least
put the struggling cause in position where others, under more
favorable circumstances, could achieve such success.*
Elsewhere in the Valley of the Mississippi the itinerant

 

*The minister is yet living, and we trust the day is far off when his name can
be more freely spoken to, whose pulpit and pastoral fidelity, and administrative
power, crowned the work which others began. The systematic and comprehensive
plans laid and carried out by Rev. John Christian Keener, D.D. (now Bishop),
date the epoch of the present New Orleans Methodism. He was appointed by
Bishop Paine pastor of Poydras Street Church in 1848, met the yellow fever and
outlived it in 1849, and has since resided in the city, a witness, an under God
the chief director, of the prosperous condition of its Methodism.
Difficulties of Methodisin in Louisiana. 549

 

preacher sowed the séed of the gospel in virgin soil; but in Lou-
isiana tares had been long and plentifully scattered and culti-
vated. If the occupation of the chief city was delayed and often
defeated, and finally achieved at the cost of great labor and suf-
fering patience, the same is equally true of the country. Attaka-
pas, Upelousas, and Ouachita, early appear on the roll of ap-
pointments. In our ecclesiastical geography Attakapas* stands
for the southern region of the State, with its numerous bays,
which are'fed by bayous navigable for a short distance; with
ocean-like prairies, where cattle is wealth; with lands deep and
moist enough to grow sugar-cane; shaded with live-oak, and
fanned by gulf breezes, and animated by myriads of alligators and
mosquitoes. There are settlements and villages named after
every saint in the calendar, and dating back to the French and
Spanish occupation of a past century, with here and there an
English-speaking or American family. Opelousas is a wide, un-
defined region, similar in character, lying above Attakapas, and
reaching to Red River; and all above the river is Ouachita. A
region farther up Red River, and representing the Western limit,
is called Rapides. These names figure on the Conference map
for a quarter of a century, and represent more heroism in itiner-
ant history than any other section of the Church.

As early as 1805 Bishop Asbury sent a missionary to Lou-
isiana, with directions to begin at New Orleans; and the Old
Western Conference raised for his outfit and expenses one hun-
dred dollars. For such a venture he picked a young Kentuckian,
who had seen service in the North-western Territory as well as
at home, and was consecrated, courageous, and knew how to
make his way. Elisha W. Bowman traveled the usual route
through the wilderness to Natchez and, taking leave of ‘that
Methodist outpost, continued down the left bank of the river.
A letter of his may give some idea of the situation:

From Baton Rouge, the Spanish garrison on the east bank of the Mississippi
River, down two hundred miles, it is settled immediately on each bank by French
and Spaniards. The land is dry on each side about forty and in some places fifty
rods wide, and then a cypress swamp extends each way to the lakes, and will never
admit of any settlements until you cross the lakes to the east and west. When I
teached the city I was much disappointed in finding but few American people
there, and a majority of that few may truly be called the beasts of men. Mr

 

* Pronounced At-tuck-a-paw; Tensas, Ten-saw; Ouachita, Wash-i-taw.
550 History of Methodism.

 

Watson, the gentleman to whom I was recommended by Mr. Asbury, had left the
city early in the fall and gone home to Philadelphia.*

The missionary went to the Governor and told him his busi-
ness, and was promised protection, and the capitol to preach in.
The appointment was published, but when he came on Sunday
he found the doors locked. To a few sailors and creoles who
stood about he preached in the open air. The Governor and
Mayor, when informed of his treatment, promised to issue an
order to put the house at his service on next Sunday; but when
Bowman and his landlord and a few others arrived, they found
it locked as before. He was among a new set of people, who
politely promise in his presence, shrug their shoulders as he
leaves, and refuse in the end. Not to be balked, a second ser-
mon was delivered to ten or a dozen hearers outdoors; and the
next Sunday also, to a few stragglers in the street. He writes:

The Lord’s-day is the day of general rant in this city: public balls are held,
merchandise of every kind is carried on, public sales, wagons running, and drums
beating; and thus is the Sabbath spent. I sought in vain for a house to preach
in. Several persons offered to rent me a house, but I have not money to rent a
house. My expenses I found to be about two dollars a day for myself and horse,
and my money pretty well spent. I tried to sell my horse, but could not get forty
dollars for him. Thus I was in this difficult situation, without a friend to advise
me. I was three hundred miles from Brother Blackman, and could get no advice
from him; and what to do I did not know. I could have no access to the people,
and to go back to Natchez is to do nothing; and to leave my station without Mr.
Asbury’s direction was like death to me; and to stay here I could do nothing.
But by inquiring I heard of a settlement of American people about two hundred
miles to the west and north-west. By getting a small boat and crossing the lakes
I could reach the Opelousas country; and as I was left to think by myself, I
thought this most advisable. I accordingly, on the 17th day of December, shook
off the dirt from my feet against this ungodly city of Orleans, and resolved to try
the watery waste and pathless desert. *

Riding up the west bank of the river to Plaquemine, Bowman
took to the lakes and lagoons. On two canoes he built a plat-
form for his horse and, hiring two Spaniards to help row, he
crossed “four lakes and a large bay,” and reached firm grouna,
where were a few American families, “who came here in the
time of the war, for no good deeds that they had done.” “I
have now,” he says, “three dollars left, but God is as able to

 

* This letter was found among the papers of Rev. William Burke, to whom it
wag addressed at Lexington, Kentucky. It is dated Opelousas, Jan. 2¥, 1806, and
was first published in the New Orleans Christian Advocate, in 1857.
Bowman Makes a Beginning. 551

 

feed me two years on three dollars as he was to feed Elijah at the
brook, or five thousand with a few loaves and fishes.” Eighty
miles farther on he found “some American families, but no two
of them together: ”

The next day I reached the Opelousas country, and the next I reached the Cath-
olic church. I was surprised to see a pair of race paths at the church door. Here
T forni a few Americans who were swearing with almost every breath; and when
1 reproved them for swearing they told me that the priest swore as hard as they
did. They said he would play cards and dance with them every Sunday evening
after mass. And, strange to tell, he keeps a race-horse! in a word, practices ev-
ery abomination. I told them plainly if they did not quit swearing they and
their priest would go to hell together.

About twenty miles from this place 1 found a settlement of American people
who came to this country about the time of the American war. They know very
little more about the nature of salvation than the untaught Indians. Some of
them, after I had preached to them, asked me what I meant by the fall of man,
and when it was that he fell. I have to teach them to sing, and in fact do every
thing that is like worshiping God. JI find it also very difficult to get them to at-
tend meetings; for, if they come once they think they have done me a very great
favor.

About thirty miles from here I found another small settlement of English peo-
ple, who were in as great a state of ignorance as the above; but I get as many of
them together as I can, and preach Jesus Christ to them. O my God! have mercy
on the souls of this people!

He passed on to the Red River settlements, and thence east-
wardly to the Catahoola, opposite Natchez, separated by a swamp
sixty miles in extent. “A forlorn Methodist” was met with now
and then, as Bowman ranged and preached. The conclusion of
his letter to Burke, his father in the gospel, is characteristic:

Many days that I travel I have to swim through creeks or swamps. I tie
all my plunder fast on my horse, and take him by the bridle, and swim some-
times a hundred yards. My horse’s legs are now skinned and rough to his
hock joints, and I have the rheumatism in all my joints; but this is nothing.
About eighty miles from here, I am informed, there is a considerable settlement
of American people, but I cannot get to them at this time, as the swamps are
swimming for miles; but as soon as the waters fall I intend to visit them.

I have now given you a faint idea of my travels, the country, and the people.
Let me now tell you how it is with my soul. What I have suffered in body and
mind my pen is not able to communicate to you. But this I can say: while my
body is wet with water and chilled with cold, my soul is filled with heavenly fire,
and longs to be with Christ. And while these periods drop from my pen my soul
is ready to leave this earthly house and fly to endless rest. Glory to God and the
Lamb! I can say that I never enjoyed such a power and heaven of love as I
have done for a few days past. I have not a wish but that the will of God may
he done in me, through me, and by me. And I can now say with St. Paul that
552 History of Methodism.

 

“T count not my life dear unto me, so that I may save some.” I feel my soul all
alive to God, and filled with love to all the human family. I am now more than
one thousand miles from you, and know not that I ever shall see you again, but I
hope to meet you one day on the banks of Canaan, in the land of rest,

The P. 8. adds: “Pardon my scratch, as I have to write on
my knee, and a man is waiting at my elbow for these lines. Pray
for me.” Making allowance for dates, does not that “scratch,”
written on the knee, read like a chapter in the Acts of the Apos-
tles? How could such a man fail? Whether the three dollars
held out or not, so it was, he staid out his time, and reported
seventeen members to Conference. Blackman cheered him with
a visit during the year and with such vigorous help as he could
give a fellow-laborer; and so a beginning was made.

Next year Bowman was appointed to Ouachita. Several Meth-
odist families had moved into that region from the old Natchez
Circuit, and though his travels were not diminished, his ward-
robe was recruited and his soul refreshed with precious seasons
of Christian fellowship.

On the Attakapas and Opelousas he was followed by Thomas
N. Lasley, who was converted in the revival of 1800, and became
one of the heroes of the next half-century of Methodist history
in the Mississippi Valley. The field has been surveyed: it is
time to “form a circuit;” and the reader may see how that is
done, from Lasley’s narrative: ;

The next morning I crossed the great Mississippi at sunrise, landing about one
mile below the mouth of Red River. Having now before me about forty-five
miles to the first settlement, and about thirty-five through a swamp, which fortu-
nately was dry, late in the evening I reached the house of a prominent settler on
‘the island—a settlement of high land thickly populated. Mr. Baker having heard
of my coming, bid me a hearty welcome, and although in a state of intoxication,
treated me with civility, while his family strove to make me happy. It being ar-
ranged that I was to preach the following Sabbath, messengers were dispatched to
notify the settlers, and I endeavored to preach in the true spirit of my mission. In
this my first effort in my new field, the power of God was felt in the congregation.
J made an appointment to preach again at candle-lighting, at another house close
by, at the request of the family. Here I met aserious congregation. Many wept
bitterly on account of their sins, and I was enabled to rejoice that I had not labored
in vain. Before dismission I announced to them that I would meet them again in
three weeks, and promised to spend some time with them. Early on Monday morn-
ing I left for the next settlement, a distance of forty-five miles, and twenty-five of this
through a swamp. Accompanied by a young man as a pilot, we journeyed to-
gether six or eight miles, his object being to put me on the right trail through
the swamp. This done, we parted. Comirg to a slough in which tne mud ap-
Lasley Forming a New Circuit. 555

 

peared very deep I dreaded to pass, but seeing no way of avoiding, plunged into
it, and my horse sinking under me was unable to extricate himself from the mud.
LT alighted, and took my saddle-bags on my arm. My horse, thus unencumbered,
made a powerful struggle and released himself, and soon gained the opposite side.
Thankful to Providence for the difficulty overcome, I arrived at a deep, muddy
creek, which I supposed to be about sixty or seyenty feet wide, where, ever and
anon, the alligators rising to the surface of the water rendered the prosj:ect
gloomy. Summoning all the fortitude I possessed, and committing myself tc the
care of God, I fastened my saddle-bags to my shoulder and plunged into the
‘stream. Reaching the opposite shore, I found the bank steep, and that my horse
could not rise with me. Isprung from him and gained the bank, which my horse
endeavoring to ascend his hind feet sunk in the mud and he fell back into the
water. Recovering again, he made the second effort, at which time I threw my
weight on the bridle and he reached the bank, pitching forward and falling with
one of his fore legs doubled under him in such a manner as to cripple himself.
Not being able to put his foot to the ground by several inches, I was apprehensive
that he had slipped his shoulde s, and of course would not be able to travel from
that place. My condition was the subject of reflection, while the poor animal
stood trembling under the agony of pain. For a few moments I almost despaired,
but throwing myself on my knees before God, I committed my cause into his
hands, and prayed most earnestly that he would heal my horse. Feeling within
myself that he had heard my prayer, I arose from my knees and found my horse
perfectly sound, and immediately recommenced my journey, rejoicing in the Lord
As the shades of night closed upon me I found myself in the most extensive prai
rie I had ever seen; but the beautiful queen of night soon made her appearance
above the waving grass, and uprising into the heavens reflected her borrowed
glories on my pathway until I arrived at a habitation, where I was admitted to
a shelter. I endeavored to sow the good seed, trusting God for the increase, and
left an appointment for my return. On the day following I reached Hayes’s set-
tlement, the most interesting part of Opelousas, and met with a Brother Foreman
and wife, members of our Church, who received me joyfully. I held a meeting,
and leaving a Sabbath appointment with them, I started for the Red River set-
tlements, having a wilderness before me of sixty-five miles. I had to rest in the
forest alone for the night, but my God was there and I had nothing to fear. Al-
exandria, on the banks of Red River, was:the next point in which I unfurled the
banner of the cross. For many miles around this town is the most fertile coun-
try I ever saw, and some parts of it are thickly settled with a mixed population
of French, Spaniards, and Americans. Ascending the bayou, 1 made an appoint-
ment at a Mr, Griffin’s, where I was ultimately enabled to form a class. My next
point was the Catahoola settlements. Here I established two appointments—one
at Brother Wiggins’s, and the other at Brother Bowie’s, whose wife I found to be
cne of the excellent of the earth. I am sorry that their son is the inventor of
that most dreadful weapon called the Bowie-knife. With this young man I was .
then acquainted—at that time a civil young man.

Having thus laid out my field of labor, upward of three hundred miles in cir-
cumference, I returned to the island, where I found an anxiously inquiring peo-
ple. I remained three days with them, preaching both night and day, and I hope
not in vain. I was enabled to form 4 small class at this place. During this visi
5b4 History of Methodism.

 

to the island I received a message from Judge Dawson, requesting me to call upon
him. Irepaired to his residence, about thirty miles distant, and met with a warm
reception. His first business was to assure me of his protection and assistance to
forward my designs in the amelioration of the condition of the wretched sons and
daughters of Adam. He laid before me the inefficiency and want of law, espe-
cially the importance of guarding against the unhallowed concubinage almost
everywhere existing in his district. We petitioned the Legislature on this sub-
ject, praying for action, which met with success, and thus gained one more step
toward civilization. /

Having concluded my business,with the Judge, I made for Opelousas, filling
my appointments at several places by the way. At Hayes’s settlement I met an
interesting congregation, to whom I preached, read our rules, and exhorted them
with many words to “flee from the wrath to come.” After preaching several times,
both night and day, I left for the Red River section of my work. Here I found
an attentive people, and was somewhat encouraged. My next prominent point
was the Catahoola settlement. I was enabled to form small classes at Brothers
Wiggins and Bowie’s. From this I returned to the island, and found the society
in a good spiritual condition, some two or three having found peace with God.
Having now my work before me, my soul was in it, and I was constantly engaged;
and, I thank God, I had the pleasure of seeing a goodly nuinber happily converted.*

That mystery of the itinerancy—“ forming a circuit”—is now
before the reader, and he has made one “round” with the
preacher, after the metes and bounds have been determined.
The germs of churches and congregations have been planted,
and they will grow. In time we shall see a log meeting-
house, then a frame building follows, and then it may be a sub-
stantial brick. The large circuit will be divided and subdivided
as population and membership increase; and Lasley’s three
weeks’ circuit becomes a district, composed of a dozen or more
circuits: Thus the cause extends.

With empty purses and well-worn apparel the two missionaries
were relieved at the end of this year. The circuit about Clarks-
ville, Tennessee, was grateful to the jaded Lasley; there he had
a happy and successful time, and was ready for another mis-
sionary movement on the Ohio River at the next Conference.
He finished his course with joy in 1857. Bowman rejoiced in
the blue-grass and big meetings of Kentucky once more.

 

* Letter of the Rev. Thomas Lasley, in the Western Christian Advocate, August
7, 1840.

+ His grave is at McMinnville, Tennessee, where the veteran died on a visit
to one of his children. Speaking of his end, and why he should die at that
place, he said: “God will have it so, that these people may see how anole Meth.
odist preacher can die.”
Axley and Es Song. 555

 

Who next shall try hard, unyielding Louisiana? Bishop As-
bury selects a man who has seen rough service. Heavy-browed,
stoutand broad-shouldered; witty and wise, and self-reliant; plain
in dress, simple in wants, and zealous; tough in muscle and tender
in heart—such was James Axley. He built the first meeting-
house on the circuit, and his own hands hewed some of the logs
of what was known as Axley’s Chapel. He needed clothes, and
his old friends sent him some money to buy them, but he spent
it for flooring-plank. He wept afterward, talking of his trials.

One evening, after riding all day without dinner, he called at
a house where the family consisted of a widow lady, a grown-up
daughter, a number of children, and some servants, none of
whom were religious. The lady and her family would not grant
his request to remain overnight. No, he could not stay; they
would have no such cattle about them. Buthe was loath to leave,
for if defeated in obtaining lodging there, nothing remained for
him but a berth in the woods, without food or shelter, in an in-
clement season of the year. As he lingered a little to warm him-
self and consider how he should manage to pass the night, the
thought of his forlorn condition as a homeless stranger, without
money or friends, came like a dark cloud over hismind. His sad
cogitations proceeded in silence. Then, as was natural in the ex-
tremity, he turned his thoughts toward his Heavenly Father’s
house above, where he hoped some day to find a home free from
the ills of mortal life. Being a little cheered with the prospect,
without leave, introduction, or ceremony, he began to sing one
of the songs of Zion in a strange land:

“Peace, troubled soul, thou need’st not fear;

Thy great Provider still is near.

Who fed thee last can feed thee still;

Be calm, and sink into his will.”
As he proceeded his depressed feelings became elevated; the
vision of faith ranged above and beyond the desolate wilderness
he had just been contemplating as the place of his night’s svu-
journ. The family were melted into tears; the lady called a
servant, and ordered him to put the gentleman’s horse into the
stable, and the daughter added, “ Be sure you feed him well.”

Axley was willing to leave at the end of one year, and was
soon riding wide districts on the Wabash and the Nollichuckee.
Next came John Henninger, practical, faithful, and fervent, and
556 History of Methodism.

 

everywhere else successful; then the amiable John S. Ford; but
they are soon found in Tennessee and Carolina again. The
visits of Harper and of the inspiring Sellers must have been
helpful; but at the end of 1813 all the Methodism in Louisiana
was represented by eighty-nine white members and ten colored.*

‘The two missionaries on the Tombigbee are swung round from
the extreme eastern to the extreme western boundaries of the
Conference.t Nolley is sent to Attakapas and Shrock to Ra-
pides. As the custom was, Nolley had appointments sent be-
fore him. The people, hungry for the word, assembled at a
house where preaching was to be, and waited long; but the be-
lated parson did not arrive until the congregation had despaired
of his coming and, in the free-and-easy hospitality of the
frontier, had gone to bed-—pallets and mattresses and. bear-skins
covered the floor, and the heads only of his congregation were in
sight. He stood before the fire, took his text, and preached to
them. ‘ Who knows,” said he, “but some word may take effect?”

These two preachers held all of Louisiana this year that was
occupied by Methodism. Nolley’s saintly bearing and pasto-
ral fidelity gained ground with the people, but could not tame
the ruffian spirit. A sugar-planter once drove him away from
his smoke-stack, where he craved to warm himself. Sons of Be-
lial took him out of the pulpit at St. Martinsville, and were on
their way to the bayou to duck him, when a strange Deborah
was raised up: a stout negro woman armed with a hoe vigor-
ously assailed them, and rescued the preacher out of their hands.
Shrock, who in youth had been a blacksmith, pursued a defi-
ant policy. An accident, or incident, befell certain lewd fellows
who were known as brave disturbers of religious services. On
the outskirts of Alexandria, they were teazing the inmates of
a house—a couple of women not of the best character—who
were honestly engaged at the time boiling soap. A gourdful
of the scalding liquid left its mark upon a face or two, and the
gullants became the jest of the village. Shrock was preach-
ing afterward at the court-house, and the set appeared at the
window, making grimaces and noises. He turned on them with
the rebuke that if they did not mend their ways they were in
danger of something hotter than boiling soap. The hit was

 

*Thus distributed—Attukapas, 65 white, 10 colored; Ouachita, 12 whitey Ra
pides, 12 white. They report,197 white members and 54 colored in Alabama.
Shrock on the Defensive. 557

 

palpable; and they and their allies sent him word that on his
return he should be ducked in the river. Shrock’s few friends
were concerned for his safety, and desired him to miss the next
appointment. But he let it be known that, Providence permit-
ting, he would be on hand when the time came; and he was—and
a large crowd also. Moving straight to the Judge’s seat, which
served for a pulpit, he conducted a brief religious service, watch-
ing as well as praying. At the place where “notices” usually
come in he called attenticn to the state of affairs; opened his
sleeve and rolled it back, showing an arm of fearful muscular
power. “Look at that,” said he; “do you think my Master gave
me such a means of defense for nothing?” He concluded by
informing all concerned that he did not feel it to be his duty to
submit to the shameful treatment Nolley had received at St.
Martinsville. He gave out his next appointment, and added,
“he understood the use of the court-house would probably be
denied him thereafter; and if it was, that large cottonwood-tree
on the commons, near the bank of the river, would answer his
purpose, and he would preach there.” Taking up his saddle-
bags and coat, he passed out. When near his horse he heard
his name called, and turning round saw a man approaching him
at a quick step. “Do you come as a friend or foe?” inquired
the short, stout-built preacher, squaring himself. “I am your
friend, Mr. Shrock,” replied the man, and taking him cordially
by the hand, continued: “I come to invite you to dine with me
to-day, and hereafter to make my house your home in Alexandria.
You are the very man we need here to manage these cowardly
disturbers of our place of worship.”

This citizen disclosed a view of the defect of Christian civ-
ilization then and there prevailing, and the heavy grade to be
everywhere overcome by pioneer preachers, According to this
view a disturbance of public worship is not an offense against the
congregation, but against the preacher only. It is his business
not only to preach to the people a free gospel, but to maintain the
conditions for their hearing it.

The reports made at the Conference on Pearl River in 1814-15
were meager. The people who were not in the armies were sore-
ly pressed by the embargo. There was a dearth of hymn-books,
and the Conference authorized its President to make a selection
of hymns, and publish the same in pamphlet form. “Sellers’s

2K
558 History of Methodism.

 

Selections of Hymns and Spiritual Songs” was soon in every
church and household. There were elections to orders, but no
ordinations; and Thomas Griffin acted as presiding elder one
year before he was an elder.* These and other war measures
indicate the straits of the Methodists in the South-west, cut
off from all communication, commercial and ecclesiastical, with
their brethren and the rest of the world.

From the Conference Richmond Nolley was sent back to Atta-
kapas—the membership had been increased by one-third the
year before, and his return was desired. Thomas Griffin was as-
signed to Ouachita. Together they crossed the river, and traveled
through the swamp. Then they parted with embraces and tears
— Griffin going northward, and Nolley bending in the other direc-
tion. On the afternoon of November 25th, a cold and rainy day, he
came td a fitful, swollen stream. From a village of Indians near
the creek he procured a guide and proceeded to the ford, and
leaving his valise and saddle-bags attempted to ride it. The
current bore his horse down; the banks were steep and he could
not get out. In the struggle he and his horse parted. He got
hold of a bush and pulled himself out; his horse swam back to
the shore from which they started. Directing the Indian to keep
his horse till morning, and to bring him over with his baggage
he started for the nearest habitation, about two miles distant.

He had gone but a little way when the angels met him. With
sweet surprise, Nolley found himself in the land of Beulah,
though in a dreary swamp of Louisiana. Beholding the “shin-
ing ones,” he doubtless exclaimed with him of old, “This is God’s
host!’”” Fancy mustsupply what history fails to record, for there
were none present save those from the sky. It was Friday, his
fast-day. Chilled and exhausted—the cold and darkness every
moment becoming intenser—he sunk down about three-fourths
of a mile from the ford. He seemed conscious of his approach-
ing end. The prints of his knees were in the ground, showing
what his last exercise had been. Having commended his soul to
God, with what sense of the nearness of heaven it may be sup-
p»sed, he had laid him down at the roots of a clump of pines.
The itinerant preacher received his discharge. There he lay on

 

*The historian whose authority is best on the transactions of these years says:
“The appointment was made with the understanding that he was not to adminis
ter the Lord’s Supper.” (J. G. Jones’s MS.)
Richmond Nolley—Hs Death. 559

 

the cold ground and wet leaves, at full length, his eyes neatly
closed, his left-hand on his breast and his right a little fallen
off. The solitary spot and the gloomy surroundings were not in-
compatible with finishing his course with joy. Next day, the
high water having fallen, the Indian crossed over and found on
the road-side first the heavy over-coat that had been laid off,
and next the corpse. Itwas taken to the house he was trying to
reach, and the neighbors gathered to the burial on Sunday.
Slowly the news reached the circuit and spread among the peo-
ple. The effect was profound and conciliating.

Richmond Nolley was only thirty years old at his death, and had
been preaching seven years. He kept his body under, perhaps
to excess—not allowing it sufficient rest and food for the best
working conditions. Every morning he was up at four o’clock—
at prayer, at reading, at work. His emaciated frame offered ex-
cuses for relaxation, which he refused to accept. One said,
“Your health must be very bad.” “It is natural for me to look
so,” he replied; “on the contrary, I have the best of health.”
His manner seemed to say, “The Lord is at hand,” “the Judge
standeth at the door.” Constitutional feebleness was upborne
by a heavenly zeal.

It is not claimed that he was strong, or learned, or eloquent.
He was not. Moral power is not in proportion to mental vigor;
its elements lie above and beyond. What avails the clear and
cold statement of truth—even divine truth—if it touch not the
heart nor move the man? It is the evident sincerity, the home
appeal, the word commended to the conscience of the hearer, the
peroration all quivering with feeling, the wnction, that constitutes
the preacher’s power. The soldier may have wisdom, but if he
lack courage he is totally out of character. Neither can the
counselor’s courage stand him in the place of wisdom. What-
aver the preacher may or may not be, without this one quality
of moral power he is nothing. This had Nolley.

In the winter of 1815 Bishop McKendree sent John Lane and
Ashley Hewit, from the Conference at Charleston, to the West.
Passing by the scene of the Fort Mims massacre and many a
charred cabin in the latter end of their journey, they crossed the
Alabama River at Fort Claiborne. On the Tensas Hewit’s circuit
began, but his companion had yet three hundred miles to go. Lane
was gentle and noble in form and spirit; so was his ministry m
560 History of Methodism.

 

the Lord for half a century. Marrying one of the daughters of
Newit Vick, he passed his middle and old age in Vicksburg,
graced with Christian labor and hospitality. Hewit spent the
rest of his life mainly in Louisiana, and made many rich though
he died poor.

The Conference of 1816 met at Pine Ridge, near Natchez. In
An upper room of William Foster’s double log-house the ses-
sions were held. Its eight members included Elijak Gentry,
Peter James, and Tommie Owens—home products. Despairing
of the promised episcopal visitation, they were proceeding with
business, when on Friday a horseman, slow and weary, rode up.
Bishop Roberts never had a heartier greeting. He was in time
to close up. On Saturday, when the list of elders elect was un-
der consideration, Shrock was called before the Conference to
give account of the Alexandria affair. Ifthe exaggerated reports
were true, his election might be canceled for unministerial con-
duct. He rehearsed the matter, in order, and was passed; but
the Bishop thought he saw a little of the old Adam in his self-
gratulatory spirit, and said, “Put up thy sword, Peter!” The
tone and manner of the rebuke were long remembered by those
present as most effective, and Shrock himself confessed to an in-
stant and sensible shrinkage. On Sunday he held his first ordi-
nation. A multitude had come from a distance and, according
to the manner of those times, there was an unbroken service of
several hours’ duration. Ex-president Sellers preached the
opening sermon (Col. i. 28), and the deacons elect, who had been
accumulating for three years, were ordained. The Bishop as-
cended the stand and preached (Jer. ix. 23, 24); and then, as-
sisted by Sellers and Hewit, ordained to the order of elders
Thomas Nixon, William Winans, and John Shrock.* “The
whole scene,” says our local chronicler, “ the first ever witnessed
in Mississippi, was solemn and full of encouragement as to the
future of the Church in this detached portion of the vineyard.”

The membership had been decreasing for two years. At this
date it was 1,706 white members, 540 colored+ Now the pres-
pect widens. Cut off from help heretofore, they are henceforth

 

*Thomas Griffin and John 8. Ford had met Bishop Asbury at Bethlehem,
Tennessee, the year before, and received elder’s orders. The latter did not return.

+ Distributed as follows: Mississippi, 1,289 whites, 402 colored; Alabama, 287
whites, 96 colored; Louisiana, 130 whites, 32 colored.
Alabama and Louistana Conferences. 561

 

brought into Connectional sympathy. Bishop Roberts not only
strengthened them by his labors*and counsel, and by looking out
places to which he at once transferred men from the older Con-
ferences, but he brought them $200 as their annual dividend
from the profit of the Book Concern, and $130 from the Charter
Fund; whereas the whole of their Conference collection for the
relief of the traveling preachers who had not got their disci-
plinary allowance was $69. What a relief was this! Hewit
had received $60 for his year’s work in the Tombigbee, and
Owens had served Rapides for only $39. Peter James had been
on Nolley’s last circuit, and received $41; but out of the “Con-
ference Fund” they were able to pay him $59. Every man had
fallen short, more or less, of his salary; but it was made up to
the round, full oNE HUNDRED. Besides, two orphan children got
$48—and lo, they had a surplus of $100, which they sent to their
more needy brethren of the Missouri Conference, to help them
out. They adjourned to meet in 1817, at Midway, when Bishop
McKendree was with them. This year the western half of Mis-
sissippi was admitted as a State into the Union, and the eastern
half set off as Alabama Territory. Louisiana had been admitted
in 1812; a pretty large Conference—two States and a Territory.

In 1824 the Conference met in Tuscaloosa, and such appoint-
ments as Cahawba, Conecuh, and Marion indicate that the space
between the Georgia and the Alabama frontiersis lessening. Eb-
enezer Hearn, from the cedar-brakes of Tennessee, is in position
on a field which forms one of the fairest portions of the Church,
and with the development of which his name is so worthily as-
sociated. First and last, as presiding elder or circuit preacher,
he covered the whole ground from Attakapas to Chattahooche.
With him are Levert, Abernathy, Clinton, Burpo, Dickinson,
Pierson, Pipkin, and Patton. That courtly man, John C. Bur-
russ, gave some years to Alabama; and so did Alexander Sale.
By 1832 Alabama took its place among the Conferences; and in
1860 had on its roll 237 traveling preachers, over 46,000 white
members, and 27,800 colored. As for Louisiana, at one time it
was suggested in the Bishop’s Council that it might be best tc
withdraw the preachers and appropriate their labors to a more
promising field; and the subject was gravely discussed. Hewit
interceded. “Was it sound policy,” said he, “to lose what little

36
562 History of Methodism.

 

had been gained by so much privation and toil? What would
become of those few sheep in the wilderness?” The conclusion
was to appropriate two preachers to that field, and the appoint-
ments for 1818 stand thus: Louisiana District, Ashley Hewit,
presiding elder; Atiakapas, Thomas Nixon; Ouachita, Ashley
Hewit. It was two preachers for years.

Hewit and one more bravely held the ground until help came
By conversion and immigration godly laymen and local preachers
were gradually added; fresh and vigorous itinerants were thrown
in; prospects brightened; in 1846 the Louisiana Conference was
organized in the town of Opelousas; and in 1860 it had six dis-
tricts, 89 traveling preachers, 10,222 white members, and 7,489
colored. Of this membership New Orleans reported 1,382 white
and 1,987 colored; and Louisiana stood at the front in ministe-
rial support and missionary offerings.

The mother Conference, having set off two others, in 1860
numbered 142 traveling preachers, and over 20,000 white mem-
bers and 17,000 colored. And thus was Methodism planted in
the South-west. In less than fifty years from the day Tobias
‘Gibson landed at Natchez from his canoe, it had spread east and
west, and down to the Gulf coast, and had entered the neigh-
boring Republic of Texas—furnished with church-buildings,
‘schools and colleges, and periodical literature; served by an able
ministry, and wielding over all that land a social power and a
religious influence unequaled by any other Church.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.

Missionary and Tract Societies Formed—African Churches Organized—Education
—Joshua Soule Resigns an Election—Constitutional Questions—McKendree’s
Position—Methodist Protestants—Soule and Hedding Elected Bishops—Ca-
pers, Emory, Waugh, Bangs, Bascom, Fisk—Canada Methodism set off.

HE polity of Methodism engaged much attention from the
General Conference of 1816 to that of 1828. Within this
period may be dated the settlement of questions and the estab-
lishment of institutions that are important in the Church’s his-
tory. A “Tract Society” was organized in 1817, in New York, by
some creative minds, having opportunity for mutual codperation,
to aid in circulating cheap religious publications. It was closely
identified with the Book Concern, which printed and circulated
its issues, and at first kept its accounts without any other agency.
This was in line with Wesley’s policy of cheap and wholesome
reading for the people—itinerant preaching by the press.

An effort to assist the Rev. Mark Moore in establishing the
Church at New Orleans suggested to Joshua Soule, Nathan Bangs,
Laban Clark, and Freeborn Garrettson the great movement of
the period—the formation of a Missionary Society. The cry
for help came up from other quarters also—the North-western
fields and the newly-begun Indian Missions. Under special ap-
peals from the Bishops, collections had been made for individ-
ual and local wants. Bishop Asbury had carried around a
“mite subscription” for years, to raise money for the preachers
who were distressed in their circumstances, traveling on fron-
tier settlements and performing purely missionary work; and
his last act, in his dying-chamber, was to request that the “mite
subscription should be presented,” but he was told that no stran-
gers were present. Why not organize for help in general, and
for a systematic collection and distribution? The labors of
Methodists had been so largely missionary in their character
that little had been thought of missions as understood by others.
But now the societies at the centers were strong and the subject
began to attract attention, and they organized a Missionary and
Bible Society in the city of New York in 1819. This dual char-
acter was maintained for seventeen years, when the Bible depart.

(562)
564 History of Methodism.

 

ment of the society was eliminated in view of codperating with
the American Bible Society.

An interesting history is that of two large secessions of ne-
gro members which proved successful. The first occurred in
Philadelphia, resulting in the “African Methodist Episcopal
Church in the United States of America.” The Preface to their
Discipline, signed by their six bishops, says:

In November, 1787, the colored people belonging to the Methodist Society .¢
Philadelphia convened together in order to take into consideration the evils uu-
der which they labored, arising from the unkind treatment of their white breth-
ren, who considered them » nuisance in the house of worship, and even pulled
them off their knees, while in the act of prayer, and ordered them to the back
seats. For these, and various other acts of unchristian conduct, they considered
it their duty to devise a plan in order to build a house of their own, to worship
God under their own vine and fig-tree. In this undertaking they met with great
opposition from an elder of the Methodist Church (J. McC.), who threatened that
if they did not give up the building, erase their names from the subscription
paper, and make acknowledgments for having attempted such a thing, in three
months they should all be publicly expelled from the Methodist Society. Not
considering themselves bound to obey this injunction, and being fully satisfied that
they should be treated without mercy, they sent in their resignations.

Being now as outcasts, they had to seek for friends where they could, and the
Lord put it into the hearts of Dr. Benjamin Rush, Mr. R. Ralston, and other re-
spectable citizens, to interpose for them, both by advice and assistance, in getting
their building finished. Bishop White also aided them, and ordained one from
among themselves, after the order of the Protestant Episcopal Church, to be their
pastor.*

Legal difficulties were raised as to the control of their house
and the government and revenues of the congregation. Bishop
White failed to capture them, if he had any such proselyting
design, and another turn was given to affairs:

In 1798 the number of the serious people of color having increased, they were
of different opinions respecting the mode of religious worship, and, as many felt
a strong partiality for that adopted by the Methodists, Richard Allen, with the
advice of some of his brethren, proposed erecting a place of worship on his own
ground, and at his own expense, as an African Methodist meeting-house. Aa
soon as the preachers of the Methodist Church in Philadelphia came to a knowl-
edge of this they opposed it with all their might, insisting that the honse should
be made over to the Conference or they would publish them in the newspapers as
imposing on the public, as they were not Methodists. However, the building
went on, and when finished, they invited Francis Asbury, then Bishop of the
Methodist Episcopal Church, to open the house for divine service, which invita-
tion he accepted, and the house was named Bethel. (See Gen. xxviii. 19.)

 

*The Doctrines and Discipline of the African Methodist Episcopal Clurch. ‘Smo, pp. 332
4. M. E. Church Book Concern, Philadelphia. 1873.
Establishment of African Churches. 565

 

The congregation—so says the historical Preface we are quot-
ing—obtained from the Legislature, by petition, a supplemental
charter intended to relieve them from the grievances of white
government; but this “exasperated their opponents,” who “ pro-
posed supplying them with preaching if they would give siz
hundred dollars per year to the Methodist Society. The con-
gregation not consenting, they fell to four hundred dollars; but
the people were not willing to give more than two hundred dol.
lars per year.” This price being agreed on, the African breth-
ren soon had occasion to complain of the quality of service:

For this sum they [the whites] were to preach for them [the blacks] twice a
week during the year. But it proved to be only six or seven times a year, and
sometimes by such preachers as were not acceptable to the Bethel people, and not
in much esteem among the Methodists as preachers. The Bethel people being
dissatisfied with such conduct, induced the trustees to passa resolution to give but
one hundred dollars per year to the Methodist preachers. When a quarterly pay-
ment of the last sum was tendered it was refused and sent back, insisting on the
two hundred dollars, or they would preach no more for them. At this time they
pressed strongly to have the supplement repealed; this they could not comply
with.

Richard Allen had been a Southern slave; but, self-redeemed,
he was doing a thrifty mechanic’s business and had accumulated
property in Philadelphia. The white brethren now tried a coun-
ter movement: they fixed up a house “not far from Bethel,” and
“an invitation was given to all who desired to be Methodists to
resort thither.” But the new house failed to draw. The his-
torical Preface continues:

Being disappointed in this plan, Robert R. Roberts, the resident elder of St.
George’s charge, came to Bethel and insisted on preaching to them and taking the
spiritual charge, for they were Methodists. He was told he should come on some
terms with the trustees; his answer was that he did not come to consult with
Richard Allen nor the trustees, but to inform the congregation that on next Sab-
bath-day he would come and take the charge. They told him he could not préach
for them under existing circumstances. However, at the appointed time he
came, but having taken previous advice, they had their preacher in the pulpit
when he came, and the house so fixed that he could not get more than half-way
to the pulpit. Finding himself disappointed, he appealed to those who came
with him as witnesses, that “that man,” meaning the preacher, “had taken his
appointment.”

Several respectable white citizens (who knew the colored people had been il}
used) were present, and told them not to fear, for they would see them righted,
and not suffer Roberts to preach in a forcible manner; after which Roberts went
away.
566 History of Methodism.

 

The next elder stationed at Philadelphia was Robert Birch, who, following the
example of his predecessor, came and published a meeting for himself; but the
aforementioned method was adopted, and he had to go away disappointed. In
consequence of this he applied to the supreme court for a writ of mandamus, tc
know why the pulpit was denied him, being an elder. This brought on a law-
suit, which ended in favor of Bethel.

The Rev. John Emory, in 1814, by acircular letter, disowned pas-
toral responsibility for them, which the African brethren thoug]t
a disowning of them. They called a general convention of colored
Methodists in April, 1816, to organize, and “taking into considera-
tion their grievances, and in order to secure their privileges and.
promote union among themselves, it was resolved that the people
of Philadelphia, Baltimore, and all other places who should
unite with them, should become one body under the name and
style of the ‘African Methodist Episcopal Church.’” Richard
Allen was their first bishop. He has had some able successors,
the majority of whom were born and converted in slavery.* The
African Methodist Episcopal Church is the largest negro Church
in the world, and well organized. Their doctrines and disci-
pline are closely modeled on the old Methodist Episcopal
plan. Pretty soon the colored Methodists in the city of New
York declared for independence. They struck out a different
plan, and organized the “African Methodist Episcopal (Zion’s)
Church,” to be governed by bishops quadrennially elected, but
not set apart by the usual forms of ordination. Their local
church was Zion; hence they are called Zionites, in distinction
from Bethelites. The two are nearly equal.in numbers.t

The General Conference of ‘1820 strongly approved the Mis-
sionary and the Tract Societies, and made them Connectional.
The troubles growing out of the presence of Wesleyan mis-

 

*He died in 1831; but the denomination has had a succession of able superin-
tendents, some of whom have been remarkable for administrative talent and pul-
pit eloquence. Of its eight bishops, three of whom have died, all were slaves ex-
cept one. In the United States they have (in 1867) ten Conferences, 550 preach-
ers, including five bishops, but exclusive of 1,500 local preachers, and about 200,
000 members. They have Church property to the amount of $4,000,000, a Book
Concern in Philadelphia, a weekly newspaper, and a college in Ohio. (Stevens's
History of the M. E. Church, Vol. IV.)

+ There were about 840 Africans in the [New York] city Methodist churches in
1818, but in 1821 only 61 remained. (Ibid.) To these organizations Methodisin at
the North, in fact if not in form, relegated the religious instruction of the negroes
for a half century. They have, in later years, spread through the South.
Education—Joshua Soule Resigns. 567

 

sionaries in Canada grew worse, and the Bishops were empow-
ered to send a delegate to confer with the British Methodists on
the subject. John Emory accordingly visited England on this
business, and brought it to an amicable issue. Lower Canada
became connected with the English Methodists, and Upper Can-
ada retained its former connection with Episcopal Methodism;
each body withdrawing all its preachers from the other’s ground,
and agreeing in no way to interfere therewith. Emory bore a
fraternal letter to the British Conference proposing an inter-
change of delegates with that body, which was accepted, and
Revs. Messrs. Reece and Hannah appeared as fraternal messen-
gers from British to American Methodism at the next General
Conference. John Emory was a native of Maryland, and bred
to the bar, which he left, with the brightest prospects, for the
ministry. His father, though a Methodist, was so grieved at the
sacrifice which his gifted and promising son made, that for a
long time he would not hear him preach. He was a polished
shaft, capable of any service, the most difficult or laborious; and
this, his first public service for the Church, was so admirably
performed that the eyes of all were upon him henceforth.

The year 1820 marks the renewal of interest in education. It
was recommended that district schools and colleges be estab-
lished, and the Bishops were authorized to appoint presidents,
principals, or teachers, to all such establishments. “But,” says
a writer, “this was not effected without some opposition. Though
the Church owed so much to the learning of its founders, some
did not realize the importance of education. This may be at-
tributed in part to the superior success of our preachers in the
absence of literary training, over that of others who had been.
professionally educated for the work.”

During the next four years Augusta College was founded in
Kentucky, under the patronage of the Kentucky and Ohio Con-
ferences, being the first college successfully organized after the
failure at Abingdon and Bethel. A number of useful and dis-
tinguished men were employed and educated in its halls.

It was agreed that an additional bishop was needed. Joshua
Soule, then Book Agent, received forty-seven votes out of eighty-
eight, and was elected; Nathan Bangs received thirty-eight.
Six days afterward, resolutions on the electiow of presiding eld-
ers, similar to those rejected by previous General Conferences,
568 History of Methodism.

 

were adopted. Thereupon Joshua Soule, for whose consecration
the time had been fixed, addressed to the Bishops a note saying:

In consequence of an act of the General Conference, passed this day, in which
I conceive the constitution of the Methodist Episcopal Church is violated, and
that episcopal government, which has heretofore distinguished her, greatly ener-
vated, by a transfer of executive power from the episcopacy to the several Annual
Conterences, it becomes my duty to notify you, from the imposition of whose
hands only I can be qualified for the office of superintendent, that under the ex-
isting state of things I cannot, consistently with my convictions of propriety and
obligation, enter upon the work of an itinerant general superintendent.

The matter was brought into the Conference, where it was
“moved that Brother Soule be, and hereby is, respectfully re-
quested to withdraw his resignation, and submit to the wishes
of his brethren in being ordained a bishop.” This prevailed,
forty-nine voting for it. When this was stated to Joshua Soule
he still insisted upon “resigning his election.” His opinions
were well known, and he had been elected by a majority of nine
over Dr. Bangs, who (though he changed his views afterward
on that point) was a representative of the other party.

It seems that Bishop George held an interview with the spe.
cial committee of six (three from each side) who were seeking
for a compromise or accommodation plan to settle a question
that was continually obtruding itself. Some of the opponents
of change got the impression that the resolutions, as slightly
amended, were divested of their unconstitutional features, and
being weary of strife, for peace’s sake, they either voted for them
or declined to oppose them, and they were adopted without de-
bate by a vote of sixty-one to twenty-five.

The situation of Joshua Soule, who had been strong and de-
cided heretofore, kept him silent pending the question. Hear-
ing of this action Bishop McKendree, who had retired into the
country for rest until the ordination, returned to the city and
called the Bishops together. He expressed to them his decided
conviction that the action was in violation of the third Restrict-
ive Rule, as it changed the plan of the general superintendency.
Bishop Roberts concurred with him in this view, but did not
wish to make any personal opposition. Bishop George declined
to express any opinion as to its infringement of the constitu-
tion, but expressed himself in favor of what had been done.
The majority of the Conference, finding that their action had
been taken in a misunderstanding, voted to suspend the resolu-
Elective Presiding Eldership. 569

 

tions for four years, and they directed the Bishops to administer
under the Discipline as it had previously stood.

Joshua Soule adhering to his position, the Bishops requested
that another election be held, as they needed an additional col.
league. The majority expressed their purpose to reélect Soule,
and the minority finding them resolute, “protested,” and peti-
tioned the Bishops to withdraw their request and let the e.ec-
tion be deferred for four years. Whereupon Bishops George and
Roberts agreed to perform the extra labor.

The working of a system discloses its weaknesses and its
strength. A defect in the constitution of 1808 now appeared:
How shall it be determined whether an act of the General Con-
ference is contrary to, or in conflict with, the Restrictive Rules?
Before the session concluded, an effort was made to establish a
method by which the constitutionality of measures could be
properly tested. A resolution was passed recommending the
Annual Conferences so to alter the Discipline that if a majority
of the Bishops judged a measure unconstitutional they should
return it to the General Conference with their objections within
dhree days, and a majority of two-thirds should be required for
its final passage. This resolution, however, was not concurred in
by the Annual Conferences. The same fate met a similar effort
four years later. This want of a constitutional test must be sup-
plied sooner or later—by the civil, if not by the Church, courts.*

Having no 6ther resort Bishop McKendree addressed the An-
nual Conferences. He was more concerned to save the constitu-
tion than to save any part of the government protected by the
constitution. Fully persuaded that the action taken was inex-
pedient and unwise, yet if it must be done let it be done accord-
ing to the fundamental law. Therefore, for the twofold reasons
of harmony and legality, he recommended to the Annual Confer-
ences such an alteration of the third Restrictive Rule as would

 

* This want was not supplied until 1870, when the following amendment was
made to the constitution by the General Conference voting 160 yeas to 4 nays,
and the Annual Conferences concurring by 2,024 yeas to 9 nays: ‘When any rule
wr regulation is adopted by the General Conference which, in the opinion of the
Bishops, is unconstitutional, the Bishops may present to the Conference which
‘passed said rule or regulation their objections thereto, with their reasons, in writ-
ing, and if the General Conference shall, by a two-thirds vote, adhere to its action
on said rule or regulation, it shall then take the course prescribed for altering a
Restrictive Rule.” (Proviso in Discipline M. E. Church, South.)
570 History of Methodism.

allow the suspended resolutions to be adopted.* Seven out of
twelve gave judgment against the resolutions as unconstitutional,
but recommended such a change in the Restrictive Rule as would
let them pass. The other five Annual Conferences refused to
take action because it would imply that a majority of the Gen-
eral Conference had not full power to act finally, and they ex-

pected to have that majority in the next session. +

However, the elections preceding the session of 1824 showed
that the majority of delegates chosen were opposed to the con-
templated alterations. Accordingly, May 24th, the following

 

*For the text of this Rule see foot-note, page 513.

+ The views of Bishop McKendree may be. thus summed up: It is the duty of
the Bishops, as general superintendents, to carry into effect the laws made by the
General Conference; therefore, they are elected by that body, and amenable to it
for their moral and official conduct. In this way uniformity may be preserved
throughout the Annual Conferences, and errors in the administration corrected;
while the administration, even from the very extremities of the work, through the
responsibility of the General Superintendents, is brought under the inspection and
control of the General Conference.

The presiding elder, ever since the office was constituted in 1792, is the agent
or assistant of a Bishop; is part of the executive government; and in his district
is authorized to discharge all the duties of the absent Bishop, except ordination.
The authority by which the Bishop is enabled “to oversee the business of the
Charch” consists largely, therefore, in the power of appointing the presiding
elders. In case they should neglect or refuse to do their duty, as laid down in the
Discipline, it becomes the duty of the General Superintendent to remove such
from office, and supply their places with others who will carry $ut the law. But
if the presiding elders are elected by the various Annual Conferences, they may
counteract the General Superintendent, or clash with each other, administering,
law differently in different places. How could the General Conference then hold the
Bishop responsible for the perversion or contempt of its laws? One Annual Con
ference may sustain a presiding elder in an administration for which another An
nual Conference would condemn him. The General Conference, in thus trans-
ferring executive power from the General Superintendents-to the Annual Confer-
ences, effectually destroys its own power of regulating the general administration;
and the connection between making laws and executing thew ceases.

But if the Church is minded to have it so, the constitution ought first to be
thanged; for the general superintendency that was placed under the protection of
its Third Article is essentially different from what this new rule would make it.
Otherwise, the senior Bishop insisted that not the episcopacy alone was involved,
but every interest which the constitution was meant to guard was liable to be
overridden by the power of a mere majority vote. Such a precedent, he con-
cluded, “wouid effectually divest the members of our Church of all constitutional
security for their rights, and reduce them to the necessity of depending entirely on
the wisdom and goodness of the General Conference for those inestimable blessings”
Two More Bishops: Soule and Hedding—Agitation. 57)

 

preamble and resolution were moved and considered in the Gen-

eral Conference:

Whereas a majority of the Annual Conferences have judged the resolutions
making presiding elders elective, and which were passed and then suspended at
the last General Conference, unconstitutional: therefore,

Resolved, That the said resolutions are not of authority, and shall not be car-
ried into effect.

The vote was taken by ballot—sixty-three in favor and sixty-
one against it, and the motion was pronounced “sustained.”

But the ghost would not down, and near the close of the ses-
sion the “resolutions” were declared to be “ unfinished business,”
and suspended until the next General Conference.

The field was enlarging and the health of the senior Bishop
was becoming more feeble; therefore, on May 26th two addi-
tional bishops were elected—Joshua Soule and Elijah Hedding.*

The next four years were marked by agitation. American
Methodism had two irrepressible questions—an English heritage
—that could not be settled inside the body. One, about this time,
worked out of it; and the other, twenty years later, divided
it. The English plan of making appointments was never suited
to America. There, one Conference, which is both Annual and
General, meets in a small territory; remote stations and circuits
can communicate with it during its sessions; and people can ob-
ject to proposed appointments as well as preachers. The chair
men of districts, though elected by them, are held responsible to
the central law-making Conference for carrying out its rules and
regulations. Here, a very small number of stations and circuits
can communicate with an Annual Conference while in session.
The preachers might have an opportunity of discussing pro-
posed appointments, but the people would not. Moreover, while
with us there are many Annual Conferences, there is only one
General Conference having power to make laws which meets
once in four years, and administers or executes its laws through
general superintendents, or Bishops, elected by it and amenable
to it for their moral and official conduct. Presiding elders
(corresponding to chairmen of districts), who assist in executing

* 128 votes were given, of which Joshua Soule had 64, William Beauchamp 62,
Elijah Hedding 61, John Emory 59. On balloting the second time 128 votes
were given, of which Joshua Soule had 65, Elijah Hedding 64, William Beau.
champ 62, John Emory 58. John Emory withdrew his name, and Elijah Hed
ding was elected on the third ballot. .
572 History of Methodism.

 

laws, are amenable only to their Annual Conferences. Yet upon
an American Conference system, that had grown up so dif-
ferent from the English, by reason of social facts and conti-
nental distances, there was a persistent effort from the begin-
ning to ingraft the English idea. O’Kelley began it, encouraged
by the knowledge of Dr. Coke’s sympathy; and the latter obtruded
the subject upon every opportunity, after O’Kelleyism had sig-
nally failed. The end of the strife comes now in a formidable
secession. The discussion on electing presiding elders led to
discussious as to the rights of local preachers, for they claimed
that when officers were to be elected they had a right, in some
way, to take part. The excitement spread to the membership,
who suggested that their rights should be represented when class-
leaders were appointed, and when changes were proposed in
Church economy. And all malcontents found utterance in a very
vigorous paper called Mutual Rights. “In its pages inflamma-
tory articles were published, and severe attacks were made upon
the economy of the Church. The English system was repre-
sented as superior to the American, and it was claimed that the
excitement was sweeping over the Church.” The combination
was a threatening one. “Union Societies” were formed among
the members who favored reform, both to spread their principles
and to support each other in case of prosecution by the Church.

Of course, as Baltimore had been the seat of every General
Conference except one, the commotion was greatest there. Her
preachers and people had been entertained with so many discus-
‘sions on the evils of Church economy that the dissatisfied ele-
ment was readily organized. Bishops and presiding elders were
denounced as tyrants, and the people were invited to contend
for their rights. In 1827 a convention was called in Baltimore,
which laid down a platform of principles and appointed a com-
mittee with authority to call a second conyention when they
should deem it advisable.

Strong memorials—demands—were addressed to the ensuing
General Conference, which met for the first time west of the
Alleghany Mountains, in the city of Pittsburg. But by this
time the conservative elements had rallied against the destruc-
tive rush of threatened revolution. Even lay delegation, the
last plank and the most popular one in the new platform, could
not then be considered with the favor which it received at a later
Methodist Protestant Church. 573

 

day. The temper on both sides, in the greatly widened controversy,
was unfavorable to concession. The reformers were aggressive
and hopeful, for several reasons. “They believed their cause just;
it was favored by the political tendency of the country; an envious
element of sectarianism which once existed in other denomina-
tions, and was ever ready to humble Methodism, was forward
and loud to encourage disaffection; but chiefly they miscalculatec|
as to the final adhesion of men who had, at one time or other,
expressed views in sympathy with their own. Even Bascom ut-
tered some sentiments, in the heyday of his blood, which were
not in harmony with his maturer life as one of the strongest,
steadiest, and most trusted leaders of Episcopal Methodism the
Church has ever had. Hedding leaned that way once, on the
original question, and Bangs and Waugh. Emory criticised and
antagonized Bishop McKendree and Joshua Soule for the
prompt, resolute means they used to save the constitution.
Bishop George, in judicial weakness, and Bishop Roberts, by
amiable irresolution, in the primary movement let the ship
drive. But now, when the radical tendencies of these things
were seen, the conservatives closed ranks and stood firm. The
report of the General Conference, made by John Emory, was
kind, strong, and conclusive, and put an end to the hopes of the
reformers, who proceeded to the organization of the Methodist
Protestant Church. Some who originally favored modifications,
so soon as the proposed measures, which lay at the bottom, had
been declared unconstitutional, declined further agitation. Meth-
odism had been demonstrated a most efficient plan for spreading
the gospel. Practically it had never oppressed them; if any
were oppressed it was the class who did not complain but were
complained against—the itinerant preachers. Thoughtful men
must not be counted on to join in a theoretical and destructive
reform because every pin and screw in the tabernacle that has shel-
tered them is not exactly to their notion. Unfortunately a reform
which began in principles drifted largely into personalities. “The
most ungracious assault,” says a writer well informed in the lit-
erature of that day, “was that which was made upon Bishop
George. Such, generally, is the lot of those who, while favoring
partial changes, adhere to the vital principles of an organiza-
tion. They must either go with the reformers to the point of
destruction, or be regarded as traitors to their interests.”
2L
574 History of Methodism.

 

Into the Methodist Protestant Church, at Baltimore, Pitts-
burg, and Cincinnati, and several other places, went many of the
best and wealthiest laymen of the old Church; and not a few
ministers (mostly local) of ability and high character cast their
lot with them—Asa Shinn, Nicholas Snethen (“the silver trum-
pet” of Bishop Asbury), Cornelius Springer, and more. A pure
doctrine has been ministered at its altars; and while the denomina-
tion has not prospered, notafew bright examples of devout congre-
vations and of personal piety have adorned it. Its ministry and
press have never been without strong men, and the members
have been generous. Its polity is marked with an extreme jeal-
ousy of power, which is lodged nowhere, but “distributed;” and
there are guards and balances and checks. A brake on the
wheels of a railroad-train is a good thing to keep from going too
fast; but a railroad-train, constructed on the principle of a brake,.
will not go at all. This honor justly belongs to the Methodist
Protestant Church: its one good, peculiar principle—lay delega-
tion-—has in late years been incorporated into the chief Method-
ist bodies of Europe and America.

An irrepressible cause of discontent and schism was thus
removed by a secession which carried with it ministers and
members who were followed by sincere regret. Then the
Church had rest for a season, and entered upon an era of unpre-
cedented prosperity. Accessions made up for secessions, and
showed an increase in ministers and members every year.*

In 1820 American had agreed with British Methodism on a
dividing line, giving up Lower Canada to them and taking
Upper Canada; and each, by compact, withdrew from the other’s
territory. Upper Canada—hitherto divided in its territory be-
tween Genesee and New England Conferences—petitioned to
be set up as an Annual Conference in 1824; and this was done,
making the seventeenth. In 1828 the five delegates of the Can-
ada Conference were in their seats at Pittsburg, representing

 

* From 1820 to 1824 the increase in membership was 71,642. The member-
ship during the next quadrennium increased 42,646. In 1829 there was an increase
of 29,305, and in 1830 an increase of 28,410, besides the loss of the Canada Con-
ference. ‘I'he increase during 1831 was 37,114, and in 1832 it was 35,479, making
in the four years from 1828 to 1832—the chief period of secession—an increase in
ministers from 1,642 to 2,200, and in members from 418,438 to 548,593, being
more than 150,000 in the four years—the largest increase the Church had ever
realized in the same period. (Simpson’s Hundred Years, etc.)
The Canada Conference—Dr. Capers. 575

 

nine thousand six hundred and seventy-eight members, with val-
uable Church property. They and other memorialists represent-
ed that great inconvenience was experienced on account of their
being under a foreign government. Prejudices growing out of
this hindered them, and they asked for the connection to be dis-
solved. The jurisdiction of the General Conference was accord-
ingly withdrawn, and they were authorized to form themselves
into a separate Church, and their proportional interest in tho
Book Concern and Chartered Fund was provided for. A resolu-
tion was also adopted that if the Canada Conference should declare
itself a separate Church and elect a superintendent, our Bish-
. ops should ordain him. In October, 1828, the Conference held
its annual session, under the presidency of Bishop Hedding, and
formed itself into the Canada Methodist Episcopal Church, adopt-
ting the Discipline as its basis. The Bishop congratulated them
and gave them his blessing. It is pleasant to record an instance
of regular separation after three stormy secessions. A union
was effected, in 1833, with the Wesleyan Church of Great Brit-
ain. Several ministers and members, dissatisfied with this action,
reérganized the Methodist Episcopal Church of Canada, and
maintained their separate existence until the late general union.

The Christian Advocate had been started in New York in 1826,
and shortly before that the Wesleyan Journal, in Charleston.
The two were merged. The General Conference of 1828 elected
Nathan Bangs editor of the Christian Advocate and Journal; John
Emory was elected Book Agent, and Beverly Waugh assistant.

In 1824 the General Conference instructed the Bishops to ap-
point a fraternal delegate to the British Conference. They met
in Baltimore in 1826 todo this. Bishops McKendree and Soule
nominated Dr. William Capers: Bishops George and Hedding
objected that he was a slave-holder, and nominated Dr. Wilbur
Fisk. Neither side would yield, and the election was postponed.
Next year Bishop Roberts was present—the other Bishops were
still of the same mind, and as he would not take the responsi-
bility of giving the casting vote, the matter went by default,
and was referred back to the General Conference. Dr. William
Capers, of South Carolina, was chosen.*

 

* May 17 the Conference took up “the order of the day, to elect a delegate to
the British Conference.” Two ballots were had. On the first, Capers received 75
and Fisk 67; on the second, Capers received 82, and Fisk 72.
576 History of Methodism.

 

He loved home and his Church-work, but wrote to his wife on
the day the “undesirable distinction” was conferred: “I could
not decline being a candidate, for reasons which you know; and
besides the important principle, involving the interests generally
of all the Southern preachers, I could not decline because of the
unpleasant dilemma in which it would have placed those of the
Bishops who had so perseveringly maintained my nomination.”
Writing again from New York, before taking ship:

I wish you could have heard last night how Brother Waugh, concluding the
service after I had preached, prayed for me, and for you, and our dear children

. also; and how many loud amens rang through the church. I had a blessed day
yesterday—Sunday. My mouth was opened, and my heart enlarged, and the con-
gregations seemed to feel pretty generally a correspondent interest in the services.
As I said before so let me repeat, we know not what the Divine will may be, but
let us lose ourselves in God and we shall infallibly come out on the right and
best side. If we fully purpose in our hearts that ‘whether we live, we live unto
the Lord, or whether we die, we die unto the Lord,” he will take care—our con-
duct being consistent—that “we live and die the Lord’s.”

Dr. Capers was the first fraternal delegate from American
Methodism to the British Wesleyans, and none more fit for such
an embassy has ever followed. The Conference at City Road
presented “their warmest thanks” to him “for the great ability,
Christian spirit, and brotherly kindness with which he has dis-
charged the duties of his honorable mission,” and to “the Meth-
odist Episcopal Church in America for the appointment of their
excellent representative, who had confirmed their feelings of re-
spect and attachment toward their American brethren at large.”
CHAPTER XXXIX.

Indisn Missions Established—Wyandots, Muskogees, Choctaws, Cherokees, Flat-
heads—-The Indian Mission Conference—Missions to Negro Slaves—The Be
ginning and Progress of Plantation Missions: Difficulties of this Work.

The servile progeny of Ham
Seize as the purchase of thy blood;_
Let all the heathen know thy name:
From idols to the living God
The wand’ring Indian tribes convert,

And shine in every pagan heart.
(Charles Wesley.)

OHN and Charles Wesley came to America to convert the
Indians, but died without the sight. None have been so
successful as Wesleyans in converting “the wandering tribes.”
In 1815, while Marcus Lindsey was preaching in Marietta,
Ohio, John Stewart passed by—the. negro who went out as the
first missionary among the Wyandot Indians. Stewart, in one
of his drunken fits, had started to the river to drown himself.
On his way he had to pass by the place where Lindsey was hold-
ing meeting, and being attracted by the sound, he stood at the
door, where he could hear all that was said. The preacher was
describing the lost sinner’s condition, exposed to death and hell;
and then he presented the offer of mercy—Jesus died for all,
and the worst of sinners might find pardon. The Spirit, by his
word, arrested Stewart there, and turned his feet from the way
of death to the path of life. He was much engaged in reading
the Bible and in prayer for weeks. Long fasting and vigils were
broken by a vision. Whether awake or asleep he could not say,
but he professed to have heard a voice saying, “ You must go ina
north-westerly direction to the Indian Nation, and tell the savage
tribes of Christ your Saviour.”* On the Upper Sandusky he
found, among the wigwams of the Wyandots, a negro, Jonathan
Pointer, who had been captured on the Kanawha when a boy,
and who acted as his interpreter. His first congregation con-
sisted of an old Indian, “Big Tree,” and an aged Indian woman.

 

* Finley's Sketches of Western Methodism.
37 (577)
578 History of Methodism.

 

Mary. Stewart could sing well, and with Pointer’s help he made
his message understood. He refused “fire-water,” was given to
prayer and preaching, and soon had a dominant influence over
the clan. His first congregation was converted, and his converts
multiplied. The matter was noised abroad. In 1819 the Ohin
Conference sent James Montgomery to help him, both being un-
der the presiding eldership of James B. Finley. Finley, a Nort.
Carolinian, had early gone to the North-west, and was long a lead-
ing character there. He nursed the Indian Mission wisely for
years, and earned, by his looks and labors, the sobriquet of “ Chief.”
A school was established, and a heroic woman, Harriet Stubbs,
sister-in-law of Judge McLean, went to their aid as teacher of
Indian girls. “She possessed,” says Finley, “more courage and
fortitude than any one of her age and sex that I have been ac-
quainted with. Ina short time the intrepid female missionary
was the idol of the whole nation, They looked upon her as an
angel messenger sent from the spirit land to teach them the way
to heaven. They called her the ‘pretty redbird.’”

Finley, Elliott, Henkle, and other preachers, labored among
the scattered tribes. Stewart died in the faith in 1823. In 1820
converted Wyandots bore the news of their evangelization to a
kindred tribe—the Ojibways—-in Canada. Two Indian preachers
went thither, and twelve years later there were ten aboriginal mis-
sionary stations in Upper Canada, with nearly 2,000 adult Indian
members, and 400 youths were receiving instruction in eleven
schools; and the names of John Sunday, Peter Jones, and other
native evangelists were known at home and abroad.*

Bishops McKendree and Soule visited these missions in 1824.
Finley met them at Columbus and conducted them to the scena.
They were delighted at the change which had resulted from the
labors of the missionaries among the Wyandots, both in their
temporal] and spiritual condition. Their religion had consisted
of paganism and some of the ceremonies of the Roman Catholic
Church. They had kept up their feasts, songs, and dances; and
so strong was their belief in witchcraft that numbers had been
put to death as witches. Drunkenness, poverty, and misery
abounded. But now a large majority had renounced their old
faith and practices. Many had joined the Church, and were

 

* Histories of Bangs, Finley, and Strickland.
Wyandots and Creeks—Asbury Manual Labor School. 579

 

attentive to the means of grace; among them five leading chiefs—
Big Tree, Between-the-Logs, Menoncue, Hicks, and Peacock.
Big Tree was the first convert of his tribe; Between-the-Logs
became a powerful preacher, but Menoncue excelled him in the
peculiar aboriginal eloquence:

The habits of Christian social and domestic life prevailed. At the manual
labor mission-school a fine farm was in operation, supplying abundantly the wants
of the mission family and school with corn, wheat, oats, rye, flax, and a variety
anil profusion of vegetables. The neighboring Indians were imitating this model
establishment. On. the Sabbath both of the Bishops preached to a large assem-
bly, through the interpreter. By appointment they met a number of the lead-
ers of the nation. Bishop McKendree, after addressing them, invited them to in-
form him of their views in relation to the mission and the general interests of the
nation. Menoncue, Punch, Gray Eyes, Peacock, Between-the-Logs, Driver, Wash-
ington, and Big Tree, replied. They gratefully adverted to the change in the
creed, manners, morals, and condition, which had resulted from the mission, and
earnestly asked that it might be continued. Bishop McKendree continued visit-
ing from house to house, attended by an interpreter, explaining experimental re-
ligion and enforcing its practical precepts. On the 14th of August they left, im-
pressed and delighted with the visit. Bishop Soule, who had never before been
among the Indians, was especially surprised and pleased; and both of them,
through the remainder of their lives, often adverted to the scene, which seemed
to linger in their memories like the echo of an enchanting song.* «

The next enterprise was a mission to the Creek Indians, occu-
pying at that time lands in Georgia and Alabama, east and west
of the Chattahooche River. In 1821 Dr. Capers was selected
by Bishop McKendree to set on foot this mission. He was then
making the first successful effort to replant Methodism in Sa-
vannah. He set out on horseback on an extensive tour of ap-
pointments, for the purpose of awakening public attention to
the moral and religious improvement of this tribe of Indians,
who occupied the western frontier of the Conference. Contri-
butions were solicited for the purpose of erecting mission prem-
ises and establishing a school; and the project, in the hands of
so eloquent an advocate, met with general favor. He visited the
Creek Agency and had an interview with the celebrated half-
breed chief McIntosh, who, according to stately etiquette, though
he understood English, would communicate with Dr. Capers
only through an interpreter.

Asbury Manual Labor School was located at Fort Mitchell,
near the present city of Columbus, and Dr. Capers, that he

*Paine’s Life and Times of McKendree.
580 History of Methodism.

 

might the better superintend it, was for 1823-24 stationed in Mil-
ledgeville. There were many adversaries, but the school con-
tinued for several years. Isaac Smith, whom we met last on
Edisto, founding the Church there, consented, in his sixty-first
year, to teach the Indians also. In his house Capers made his
first public prayer, and he and two others entertained the South
Carolina Conference at its first meeting in Camden. He won
the affections of the red men, and in 1829 there were reported
seventy-one members at the Asbury Station, and the school con-
sisted of fifty scholars. In 1830 the mission was discontinued.
The labor was not lost, since many of the Indians, after their
removal beyond the Mississippi River, were gathered into the
fold of Christ, and traced their religious impressions to Father
Smith and his associates and successors, Andrew Hammill,
Daniel G. McDaniel, Matthew Raiford, and Whitman C. Hill.*
The evangelization of the Choctaws and Chickasaws—kindred
and adjoining tribes—was like a nation being born in a day.
Rev. Alexander Talley+ appears as missionary to Pensacola and
Mobile as early as 1822. Subsequently he presided over the
Louisiana District. In 1827 he was appointed missionary to the
Indians in North Mississippi, and with tent and interpreter he set
himself to the work. The interpreter (an Indian) shrunk from
appearing before large crowds, and this confined the missionary
to mere groups. He pitched his tent among small settlements,
invited them to come and hear the “good talk,” and he taught the
groups that gathered, and passed on. The teaching was direct—
the fall of man, sin, redemption in Christ, repentance and love
and obedience. He called for a turning to the Lord instantly.
Before he got round in detail the chief, Leflore, sent for him,
courteously entreated him, and made the teacher welcome to
head-quarters. Years before, a French trader, Leflore, had set-
tled on the Natchez trace, married an Indian, grown wealthy, and
had a numerous progeny of sons and daughters. Greenwood Le.
flore, the oldest son, had been educated among the whites, was

 

*Of the number is Samuel Checote, elected Chief of the Creek Nation in
their present home (Indian Territory), in 1867, for four years, and twice reélected.
He is the leading member of the Indian Mission Conference, and has often served
as presiding elder. Checote was at Father Smith’s schoo] when a youth, and re-
members him, though now sixty-six years old.

+ One of three preacher-brothers—Nicholas and John W. being the other (wo.
Leflore, Talley—The Chuctams. 58]

 

principal chief of the nation, and Talley’s interpreter upon occa-
sions; and a more fluent and eloquent one, according to accounts,
missionary never had. One of the first reform movements was to
suppress the whisky traffic. The ordinance passed in council was
duly guarded by penalty: “The offender was to be struck a hard
lick on the head with a stick, and his whisky poured out on the
ground.” A self-willed brave defied the law—Offa-homa (Red-
dog)— and met the penalty; for they werein earnest. A camp-meet-
ing was held, and Captain Offa-homa, with a desp scar unhealed
on his scalp, was among the first to appear. The Leflore family,
the most intelligent and influential in the nation, and the com-
mon people, were brought under religious influence, and a spir-
itual power pervaded the tribe. The venerable Isaac Smith
came up from the Muskogee School—Asbury—and his word and
manner, emphasized by his gray hairs, made an uncommon im-
pression. As he uttered paragraphs of Bible truth enough to
save a world, Leflore, standing by his side, would interpret to
the multitude seated and standing around. The interpreter en-
larged on his text and wept; the people wept. A young preacher
was present; in old age he describes the scene. He “had just
read the first volume of Watson’s Institutes, and thought the ar-
gument in favor of the divine origin of Christianity fine; but as
he sat there among those untutored men and women, melted and
weeping profusely under the word as the Holy Spirit applied it,
he felt that the strongest argument for the gospel’s divinity was
before him. His own heart was strangely warmed, and he was
more than ever determined thereafter to preach nothing but the
pure, unadorned gospel of Jesus Christ, since that alone is the
power of God unto salvation.”

Alexander Talley took a delegation of Indian converts to the
Annual Conference which met at Tuscaloosa in 1828. Arter his
report was read the Conference requested that one of the Indians
might give an account of the work of grace and the prospects of
the nation. Captain Washington responded through the inter-
preter. The Conference was powerfully moved. Bishop Soule
rose from the chair, shook the hand of the chief, and welcomed
him and his people to the church, and exclaimed, “Brethren,
the Choctaw Nation is ours! No—I mistake; the Chactaw Na-

tion is Jesus Christ’s!” *

*J. G. Jones’s MS. History. The historian was present.
582 History of Methodism.

 

Revs. R. D. Smith and Moses Perry were sent to Talley’s help.
The Indian work spread and prevailed, and was divided into cir-
cuits. The “falling exercise” was as common among these In-
dians as it had been in the Kentucky and Tennessee revival of
i800. Before the removal of the tribes to the West—1830-32—-
over three thousand Choctaw and Chickasaw members were added
to the Church. Moses Perry married into the tribe, and accom.
panied them to their reservation beyond the Mississippi.

“The work of the Spirit,” says our historian and witness
“was deep. We have witnessed among no people more marked
awakenings, conversions, and subsequent developments of Chris-
tian experience than we have found among the Choctaws.”

In 1822 the Rev. Richard Neely, of the Tennessee Confer-
ence, commenced to preach to the Cherokees in North Alabama,
a nation more advanced than the Creeks. The American Board
of Commissioners for Foreign Missions had conducted mission-
ary operations among them since 1817. Under Neely’s preach-
ing a class of thirty-three members was formed. At the follow-
sng session of the Conference the Rev. A. J. Crawford was
appointed missionary to the Cherokees and, with the approval
of the chiefs in that part of the nation, opened a school which
met with favor. Revivals of religion followed, and at the Con-
ference of 1823 one hundred and eight members were reported.
The work continued to grow, notwithstanding the political dis-
turbances to which the tribe was subjected, until in 1830 there
were eight hundred and fifty-five members of the Church, and
five schools with about one hundred pupils. John Fletcher
Boot and Turtle Fields and Blackbird were noted native preach-
ers, though after the removal West a number were raised up
whose influence was great—Carey, Standing-man, and others.

In 1832-33 the Conference, being met in St. Louis, received a
remarkable call from the Flat Head Indians of Oregon. By
some means they had heard that the white men had a book which
told about the Great Spirit and another world. They sent a dele-
gation across the Rocky Mountains to find the book and to ask for

 

* The Cherokee Mission stands thus in the Minutes of the Tennessee Confer-
ence for 1827: William McMahon, Superintendent of Indian Mission; Will’s
Valley, Greenberry Garrett; Oostahnahla, Turtle Fields; Echota, James J. Trott;
Oocthkellogee, Greenville T. Henderson; Creek Path, John B. McFerrin; Cha-
tooga, Allen F. Scruggs; Salakowa, Dickson C. McLeod.
The Flatheads—The Indian Statistics. 583

 

«teacher. They made known their wants; the intelligence was
published throughout the country, and three young men of New
England— Jason and Daniel Lee, and Cyrus Shepherd, volun-
teered for this work. They arrived at Fort Vancouver in Sep-
tember, 1834, and commenced their labors. But the principal
result has been the laying a foundation for the white churches
on the Upper Pacific Coast. The Indian tribes there are feeble
and scattered, and melting away rapidly.

That fertile country lying south of Missouri, west of Arkansas,
and north of Texas, is called the Indian Territory. To it the
Government has removed tribe after tribe, as their title to lands
in the East has been extinguished. ach tribe has its appointed
metes and bounds; and to those mentioned already may be added
the remnants of the Senecas, Modoces, Kickapoos, and Shawnees.
Methodist missionaries like Cumming and Harrell followed them
from the old home, where evangelization commenced, to the new
home where in time an Annual Conference was organized. In
1882 there were four districts—Cherokee, Muskogee or Creek,
Chickasaw, and Choctaw—and fifty appointments supplied by
preachers, many of them Indians. There were 5,026 Indian
members, and 112 local preachers. Exclusive of these, 1,100
white people and 30 negroes were numbered in the membership
of the Indian Conference.* Their numerous schools—male and
female—are supported in part by the Government annuities and
in part by the Missionary Society. ;

 

*The Minutes for 1882 contain obituaries of three traveling preachers: Isaac
Saunders “was born in the old home of the Cherokees—east of the Mississippi.”
For thirty-two years he was an itinerant preacher among his people in the Indian
Territory. ‘Twenty-nine years,” says the official memoir, adopted by the Con-
ference and printed in the General Minutes, “he was on the effective list. The
Journal does not show a single complaint against him. His faith in Christ was
unbroken to the last.” Moses Mitchell was a full-blooded Seminole, in the sev-
enth year of his ministry. “He was converted,” says the memoir, “when young,
and triumphed when passing through the sufferings of death.” James McHenry,
une of the patriarchs of the body, a Creek, was born on Flint River, and was sixty-
five years old when he died. Like other eminent preachers, he presided over his
native councils as well as ciricuits in the nation. These items are furnished by
his comrade, Checote: “I first saw him in 1828-29, at the Methodist boarding-
school] near Fort Mitchell, in Alabama. He and I were ordained elders in the
year 1859, at the Annual Conference held at the Old Creek Agency, over which
Bishop Paine presided. He was four years president of the Senate, and was judge
of Coweta District at his death. He died in the Lord.”
584 History of Methodism.

 

As a general rule negro slaves received the gospel by Method-
ism, from the same preachers and in the same churches with
their masters—the galleries, or a portion of the body of the
house, being assigned to them. If a separate building was pro-
vided, the negro congregation was an appendage to the white,
the pastor usually preaching once on Sunday for them, holding
separate official meetings with their leaders, exhorters, and
preachers, and administering discipline, and making return of
members for the Annual Minutes. Butthe condition of the slave
population segregated on the rice and sugar and cotton planta-
tions appealed for help. The regular ministry did not reach the
river deltas of the low country—a malarial region in which few
white people are found. For twenty years before, missionaries to
the slave population had been going through the regions most
accessible; but in 1829 a system of plantation service and in-
struction was inaugurated by the South Carolina Conference.

On the east side of the modest marble obelisk placed over
the grave of William Capers is this inscription: “The ,Founder
of Missions to the Slaves.” In the autumn after his return from
England, he was waited on by a wealthy planter on Santee, to
learn if a Methodist exhorter could be recommended to him suit-
able for an overseer. He was aware of Dr. Capers’s interest in
the religious welfare of the colored people, and that the prejudices
and mistrusts which certain unfortunate ecclesiastical utterances
had created against the Methodists could not attach to him who,
besides other guarantees of character, was himself a slave-hold-
er; and the happy results which had followed the pious endeav-
ors of a Methodist overseer on the plantation of one of his
Georgia friends had directed this planter’s attention to the sub-
ject. Dr. Capers doubted whether he could serve him in that
particular way, but assured him that if he would allow him to
make application to the Bishop and Missionary Board at the
approaching session of the Conference, a minister, for whose
character he could vouch fully, should be sent to his plantatior
as a missionary, whose time and efforts should be devoted exclu-
sively to the religious instruction and spiritual welfare of his
colored people. To this proposal cordial assent: was given.
Soca after two others, wealthy planters of Pon Pon and of Com-
bahee, united in a similar request.

Dr. Capers, in addition to his duties as presiding elder of
Beginning of Plantation Missions. 585

 

Charleston District, accepted the difficult and delicate position
of superintendent of the first negro missions established. With
most judicious care were the two men chosen who were to enter
this opening door and, by the results achieved, to keep it open.
The following account of the enterprise is from one who was a
member of the Conference and watched it through all its stages:

The first missionaries were the Rev. John Honour, and the Rev. John H.
Massey. As if to try the faith of the Church, and test its power of self-gacritice,
John Honour, although a native of the low countries, took the bilious fever,
through exposure in the swamps of his field of labor, and in September ended his
mortal life and glorious work together, and entered into his rest. The operations
of the first year gathered four hundred and seventeen Church-members. Foot-
hold was gained. The experiment, eyed with distrust by most of the planters,
denounced by many as a hurtful innovation upon the established order of things,
favored by very few, was commenced. The noble-hearted gentlemen who went
forward in the movement were in advance of their time, and could not but feel that
they had assumed a heavy responsibility in indorsing for the beneficial results of
such an undertaking. Of course they watched the developments of the affair
with no small solicitude. As far as it went the first year it was perfectly satisfac-
tory. The second year the membership on these missions more than doubled
itself. Incredibly small, however, was the treasure-chest of the Missionary Soci-
ety. The sum of two hundred and sixty-one dollars was reported to the Annual
Conference as the aggregate of the collections for the year 1830. The following
year another of the ministers of the Conference was added to the small but brave
forlorn-hope. The oral instruction of the little negroes, by Catechism, was com-

_ menced; two hundred and fifty of these were placed under the care of the mis-
sionaries, and nine hundred and seventy-two Church-members were reported.
At the ensuing session of the Conference, held at Darlington early in 1832, a de-
cided and memorable impulse was given to the missionary spirit, particularly
among the preachers, by a speech delivered at the anniversary of the Missionary
Society, by the Rev. (now Bishop) James O. Andrew. After the usual prepara-
tory exercises, he was introduced to the meeting, and read the following resolu-
tion: “That, while we consider false views of religion as being every way mischiev-
ous, and judge from the past that much evil has resulted from that cause among
the slave population of this country, we are fully persuaded that it is not only
safe, but highly expedient to society at large, to furnish the slaves as fully as pos-
sible with the means of true scriptural instruction and the worship of God.” We
have heard many good and clever speeches in our time, « few withal that de-
served to be called great, but foremost in our recollection stands the remarkable
speech made by Bishop Andrew on that occasion. He drew a picture of the irre-
ligious, neglected plantation negro, Clande-like in the depth of its tone and color.
He pointed out his degradation, rendered but the deeper and darker from the tit
fal and transient flashings up of desires which felt after God—scintillations of the
immortal, blood-hought spirit within him, which ever and again gleamed amidst
the darkness of his untutored mind. He pointed out the adaptation of the gospe.
to the extremest cases. Its recovering power and provisions were adequate to the

 
586 History of Methodism.

task of saving from sin and hell all men of all conditions of life, in all stages of
civilization. He pointed 10 the converted negro, the noblest prize of the gospel,
the most unanswerable proof of its efficiency. There he was, mingling his morn-
ing song with the matin chorus of the birds, sending up his orisons to God under
the light of the evening-star, contented with his lot, cheerful in his labors, sub-
missive for conscience’ sake to plantation discipline, happy in life, hopeful in
death, and from his lowly cabin carried at last by the angels to Abraham’s bosom.
Who could resist such an appeal, in which argument was fused in fervid elo-
quence? The speech carried by storm the whole assembly.

At the close of 1832 there were reported as members of the mission-family -
thirteen hundred and ninety-five souls, and four hundred and ninety children
were regularly catechised. The experiment had been going on for four years.
The theory of religious instruction for the blacks had been put to practical tests,
had been watched in its matter-of-fact tendencies, had borne some fruit, and the
earliest sheaves gave distinct promise of the coming harvest. An influential gen-
tleman, who had witnessed on a large plantation of his own the successful results
of religious instruction communicated through the means of the missionary organ-
ization, sent a complimentary letter to the Missionary Board, with a solicitation
in behalf of a number of his friends in Beaufort that the missionaries should be
sent tothem. A respectable meeting of planters was held in Saint Luke’s Parish
on the subject of the religious instruction of the blacks, and the missionary system
was advocated and adopted. The time for enlargement was come. It was found
that the preaching of the gospel, with the characteristic simplicity and earnestness
of the Methodist ministry, not only was understood by the negroes, and took well
with them, but that, combined with the regular discipline of the Church, it pro-
duced a distinct and observable.improvement in their moral character and habits,
making them sober, honest, industrious, and contented. These were phases of
character which overseers and proprietors, however unskilled in divinity and in-
different to points of theological subtlety and dispute, could judge of as well as a
college of cardinals or a synod of Churchmen. And prejudice crumbled away
piecemeal. Doubt and distrust brightened into approval. Confidence in the sys-
tem took the place of opposition, and the friends of missions gave God praise and
took courage as the door of access to these thousands of Africa’s children was
opened wider and wider.*

The zeal of South Carolina provoked many, and the work so
auspiciously begun was taken up by other Conferences and car-
ried forward with success. In other States the planters became
earnest friends of the missions to the slaves, and contributed
largely to their support. At the before-mentioned anniversary
of the Missionary Society, January, 1832, the board of managers,
submitting their report, say:

The mission on the Santee numbers upward of three hundred members of the

Church in regular and good standing. A considerable number of the slaves have
been baptized during the past year. There is an evident improvement among the

 

* Rey. (afterward Bishop) W. M. Wightman, D.D., in Southern Quarterly Review.
Growth of Confidence and Enlargement. 587

 

aegroes, both as regards the number who attend the means of grace and the sok
emn attention given to the word preached.

The negroes served on the Savannah River Mission [by the Rev. James Dam
nelly] being found convenient to meeting-houses, it has been judged expedient to
throw that mission into the regular work of the circuit.

The mission on Combahee, Pon Pon, and Wappahoola, has had an increase the
last year of two hundred and thirty members, making the aggregate number of
tnembers six hundred and seventy. Upward of one hundred little negroes receive
catechetical instruction, one hundred and twenty-eight have been baptized, and
the missionary expresses his conviction that the religious experience of the blacks
is deeper, and their deportment more becoming, every year.

Guided by experience and cheered by success, we come to bind ourselves afresh
to this holy work, and to renew the solemn obligations which the enterprise of
negro instruction and salvation imposes on us. Into this long-neglected field of
danger, reproach, and toil we again go forth, bearing the precious seed of salva
tion. And to the protection and blessing of the God uf missions our cause is con-
fidently and devoutly commended.

In 1833 two additional mission stations were established. In
1834 they numbered six, in 1835 eight, in 1836 nine, in 1887 ten.

In the tenth year of its operations the missionary ground of
the Society embraced two hundred and thirty-four plantations,
served by seventeen missionaries, under the general supervision
of three superintendents. These missionaries preached at nine-
ty-seven appointments, and had under their regular pastoral
charge 5,556 Church-members, to whom they preached and ad-
ministered the sacraments and discipline of the Church. And
they had under eatechetical instruction 2,525 negro children.*

These results are separate from the negro membership distrib-
uted in smaller numbers through the upper country, and more ac-
cessible by the regular pastors. The Kentucky Conference, which
reported in 1846 but one mission to the colored people, numbered
among its regular communicants 9,479 of this class; and the Hol-
ston Conference made a report of no mission, but reckoned a col-
ored membership of 4,133. The rule laid down by the South
Carolina Board (auxiliary to the parent Society), and obtaining
elsewhere, is expressed in one of their early reports:

That, as a general rule for our circuits and stations, we deem it best to include
the colored people in the same pastoral charge with the whites, and to preach to
both classes in one congregation, as our practice has been. The gospel is the same

for all men, and to enjoy its privileges in common promotes good-will.
That at all preaching-places where galleries or other suitable sittings have not

 

*Shipp’s History of Methodism in South Carolina (pages 450-465), in which reports are
snblished in full. Each Annual Conference had an auxiliary Missionary Society.
588 History of Methodism.

 

been provided for the colored people, or where the galleries or other sittings are
insufficient, we consider it the duty of our brethren and friends to provide the
necessary accommodation, that none may make such a neglect a plea for absenting
themselves from public worship.

Colored local preachers were used and were useful in promut-
ing the religious welfare of their race. Rev. William Capers
always had a corps of them about him in excellent training,
wherever he was stationed. In Fayetteville, North Carolina, he
found a remarkable one: _

I have known, and loved, and honored not a few negroes in my life who were
probably as pure of heart as Evans, or anybody else. Such were my old friends
Castile Selby and John Boquet, of Charleston; Will Campbell and Harry Myrick,
of Wilmington; York Cohen, of Savannah; and others I might name. These I

ight call remarkable for their goodness. But I use the word in a broaler
fone for Henry Evans, who was confessedly the best preacher of his time in
that quarter, and who was so remarkable as to have become the greatest curiosity
of the town, insomuch that distinguished visitors hardly felt that they might pars
a Sunday in Fayetteville without hearing him preach. Evans was from Vir-
giuia—a shoe-maker.* ‘

By this agency much evangelizing was done in Charleston,
and not only in the city where the black membership was to the
white as five to one, but on the nearest plantations. Dr. Capers
says: “We had belonging to the Church in Charleston (1811),
as if raised up for the exigencies of the time, some extraordinary
colored men. I have mentioned Castile Selby; there were also
Amos Baxter, Tom Smith, Peter Simpson, Smart Simpson, Harry
Bull, Richard Holloway, Aleck Harlston, and others, men of in-
telligence and piety, who read the Scriptures and understood
them, and were zealous for religion among the negroes.” +

In November, 1854, a few months before the death of the
founder of missions to the slaves, the Conference Missionary
Board made a report which speaks of the opening prospect, and
ulludes to what has been done:

Twenty-six years ago the South Carolina Conference began a system of regular
ecclesiastical operations among the plantation negroes of the low country, by es-
tablishinz two missions. At present there are twenty-six missionary stations, on
which are employed thirty-two ministers, who are supported by the Society.’ The
number of Church-members is ‘11,546, including 1,175 whites. The missionary
revenue has risen from $300 to $25,000. These are the material results, so far as
statistics are concerned. They call for devout acknowledgments to God, who has

 

* Autobiography of William Capers; and Biography by Dr. Wightman. ¢ Ibid.
Moral Heroes Without Monuments. 689

 

given us abundant favor in the sight of the community in carrying on a line of
operations confessedly difficult and delicate.

The testimony of masters and missionaries goes to show that a wholesome effect
has been produced upon the character of the negro population generally. <A
change for the better is visible everywhere, when the present generation is con-
trasted with the past; and in how many cases the gospel has proved the power of
God to salvation, and presented before the throne the spirits of these children of
Ham redeemed and washed by “the blood of sprinkling,” and fitted for an alude
in heaven, the revelations of the last day will disclose.

The singing was wonderful, and the catechetical instruction of
youth and children, and of the congregations, was helped by
Capers’s Catechisms (No. 1 and No. 2), prepared expressly fo1
this purpose, though they obtained a wider circulation. There
was no romance here; it was in the highest degree a work of
faith, demanding the patience of hope and the labor of love; and
some of the best preachers of Southern Methodism spent their
best days at it, as Charles Wilson, W. C. Kirkland, G. W. Moore,
J. R. Coburn, R. J. Boyd, Bunch, Ledbetter, Turpin, and Rush.

It grew. On the sugar and rice fields lying upon the Gulf
of Mexico, and in the vast cotton plantations of the Mississippi
Delta and its lower tributaries, this missionary system was the
light and life of hundreds of thousands of “the servile prog-
eny of Ham.” Right-minded masters welcomed the missiona-
ries, thankfully accepting such aid in discharging their own ob-
ligations to their dependents. Many built chapels, and not only
countenanced them by their personal attendance during winter
residence and transient visits, but contributed liberally to the
funds of the Society; others tolerated preaching, at the expense
of the Society; and yet others were obnoxious to the woe of them
who neither enter the kingdom of heaven themselves nor suffer
others to enter in. Agreeable surprises sometimes awaited a
missionary on entering dark places of this sort which by debt,
or death, or other influence, had been providentially opened--a
society, rudely organized, was there before him, with its stated
times of worship, its rules, and its members. By purchase or
partition of estates, or by immigration, a religious negro or family
of negroes was thrown, like leaven, into an ignorant mass of his
fellow-beings, and became a source of instruction and a center
of life which took form and grew, even under unpropitious sur-
roundings. One missionary to such a sugar plantation in Lou-
isiana found over thirty “members:” he had these to begin with.

2M
590 History of Methodism.

 

Methodism has ventured every thing upon the evangelical
maxim, “The Lord will take care of the Church that takes care of
his poor.” It suffered a drain on its resources when sending the
gospel to the wandering Indian tribes an 1 to the servile progeny
of Ham; and in certain localities a social discount was endured.
One of the best witnesses (Dr. Capers, so late as 1854) who be-
stowed much labor on a congregation where the black element
preponderated and, in a certain sense, had to be carried by the
white, has left this testimony:

Under all the obloquy cast upon them the Methodists were, nevertheless, much
esteemed. Their preaching might be attended with great propriety, for almost
everybody did so, but who might join them? No, it was vastly more respectable
to join some other Church, and still attend the preaching of the Methodists,
which was thought to answer all purposes. And this has been the case long since
the year I am speaking of. The persons of that year whom I can call to mind
have gone to their account; and yet I hesitate not to say that if all the individuals
who have joined other Churches in that city since 1811, professing to have been
awakened under the Methodist ministry, had joined the Church where God met
them, the Methodist Church in Charleston might have ranked in worldly respects
with the very first, before this day.

The rich claim whatever they want, even a fashionable church
and a palatable gospel; they can pay for it! But “the Spirit of
the Lord God” must be upon a man—he must be “anointed ’”—
who preaches the gospel to the poor. In 1845 Southern Meth-
odism had gathered into Church-membership one hundred and
twenty-four thousand of the slave population; in the fifteen years
following, that number had increased to two hundred and seven
thousand, exclusive of catechumens.

Frequent references are made in the reports of laborers in
this field to the “delicacy” as well the difficulty of their work.
Their access to the slave population at one end of the Union was
constantly liable to be restricted or cut off on account of intem-
perate speech or action at the other end, and that too by people
professing to be friends of the slave, but far removed from the
scene, and bearing no part in the perils, reproaches, and sac-
rifices of those who were seeking his spiritual welfare.
      

      

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WwGEéE.CUNNYD
CHAPTER XL.

James O. Andrew—John Emory—Foreign Missions Inaugurated—I iberia—-
Brazil—Coxe—Pitts—Education— Colleges: Randolph Mavon; La Grange;
Dickinson; Wilbraham; Madison; Alleghany—J. ‘P. Durbin—Thomas A,
Morris—Death of McKendree: Taking Leave of his Brethren.

HE General Conference of 1832 met in the city of Philadel.
phia. One disturbing element having withdrawn from the
Church, and the other being weak or quiet, the session was re-
markably harmonious. James O. Andrew, of the Georgia, and
John Emory, of the Baltimore Conference, were elected Bishops.*
James Osgood Andrew was the son of John Andrew, the first
native Georgian who had joined the traveling ministry. James
was somewhat reluctantly licensed to preach by the Quarterly
Conference. Preachers were needed, and the Annual Conference,
on the indorsement of his presiding elder, Lovick Pierce, who
had brought up his recommendation from the Broad River Cir-
cuit, received him on trial (1812) and he was sent as second man
on the Saltkahatchee Circuit, in Barnwell District, South Caro-
lina. A friend mounted him on a pony, and he set out from his
humble Georgia home for the east side of Savannah River. His
opportunities for education had been limited to the “old-field
school.” He had never seen the world, or been a day’s journey
from home, but he had been converted, he had strong common
sense, and he felt moved by the Holy Spirit to preach. The
itinerancy, with the study and prayer and work that are in it, de-
veloped him. From circuit to circuit he went in Georgia and the
two Carolinas, under judicious presiding elders, then to Charles-
ton, Wilmington, Columbia, and Augusta. From the last station
he went up to General Conference where, at thirty-eight years of
age, he began to serve the Church on a wider scale. William
McKendree was going out as James O. Andrew went into the office.
After his election he asked the senior for the guiding rule which
had made his own administration so successful. Heé gave him
this: “James, do not seek responsibility, but never shun a re-
sponsibility that properly belongs to you; for in doing so you
assume the gravest of all responsibilities.”

 

* They were elected on the first ballot—the former by a vote of 140, the latter

by 135, out of 223 votes cast.
{ (591)
592 History of Methodism.

 

Mary Cosby, his mother, was a woman of rare soul-refine-
ment and power; and among the daughters of a Scotch merchant:
in Charleston he found a good wife—Amelia McFarland—who
by her needle and school-keeping eked out the income of the
parsonage, and encouraged her husband to continue in the ranks.
He became a man of first-rate ability in the pulpit, wise in counsel,
and a rich contributor to the periodical press. It was his invidi-
ous and peculiar lot to be the center of a historic strife, in the
midst of which his self-poise never failed, and the gentleness
and strength of his character were strikingly displayed.

Bishop Emory never met another General Conference. Early
one December morning in 1835, he left his home, which was
near the city, for Baltimore. A few hours after, having been
thrown from his carriage, he was found dying on the road. A
small man, never weighing over one hundred and twenty pounds,
he was a giant in mental and moral stature, and though he died
young, he lived long enough to impress himself on Methodism.

Like a ship keeping in sight of shore and cautiously coasting,
the Missionary Society—guided by Dr. Bangs, who without charge
acted as secretary—had confined its work to the Indian tribes and
destitute settlements. The receipts of the first year were $823.04,
and in thirteen years they crawled up to $17,097.05. The year
following, under the stimulus of a new mission enterprise to the
Oregon Indians, they suddenly rose to twice this figure. It
was time to venture out, and the Society proposed, with the
sanction of the General Conference, to plant its standard on the
coast of Africa, and send agents to Mexico and South America
to ascertain the feasibility of missions in those countries.

Mellville B. Coxe, a native of Maine, thirty-two years old, and
stationed in Raleigh, North Carolina, was a reserve delegate to
this General Conference. He volunteered to go as a missionary
to Liberia, on the western coast of Africa, and was accepted.
In mind and heart he seemed admirably adapted to this. enter-
prise, while some thought his constitution too frail for it. Great
admiration and much sympathy were excited in his behalf. To
Bishop McKendree he said on receiving the appointment: “At
present IJ am in peace. Death looks pleasant to me, life looks
pleasant to me, labor and sufferings look pleasant to me, and
last, though not least, Liberia looks pleasant to me. I see, or
think I see, resting on Africa, the light and cloud of heaven.”
Africa and Brazil. 595

 

March, 1833, he arrived in Liberia. He found many members,
class-leaders, and preachers, whom the Colonization Society had
carried out, and organized them into a branch of the Methodist
Episcopal Church. He planned three missions, and an academy
at Monrovia. But in less than five months from the time of his
arrival he died, prescribing as his epitaph, “Let a thousand fall
before Africa be given up.” Twenty-five white missionaries died
of the climate, or fled from it with ruined health, in seventeen
years. Only four colored preachers died in the same time.

In 1835 Bishop Andrew appointed the Rey. Fountain E. Pitts,
of the Tennessee Conference, on a missionary exploration to
Brazil and South America. Sailing from Baltimore in June, he
reached Rio Janeiro in August of that year. His reception, by
foreigners and natives, was encouraging, and he commenced his
ministerial labors in some half dozen private houses in that great
city—the first Methodist preacher that ever preached the king-
dom of God in that division of the New World. He formed a
Methodist Society, and promised to send them a pastor as early
-as possible. Thence he sailed to Montevideo, at the mouth of
the Rio de la Plata. Here he preached for some weeks and
formed a Society. On board of a steamer he ascended the La
Plata, to the city of Buenos Ayres, the special field of his desti-
nation. After an absence of twelve months he reached home.
In consequence of his reports, efforts were made in Brazil. Rev.
Justin Spaulding was sent to Rio Janeiro, but the effort was not
successful; the land was not yet freed from Romish intolerance.
Forty years afterward Methodism got a foothold in the capital
and interior of that empire. The occupation of Buenos Ayres
has been continued since 1836, when Dr. Dempster went out.
For many years the work of the mission was confined chiefly to
English-speaking persons, but the work gradually reached the
Spanish population, and there is in later days a favorable report,
especially in Montevideo, and in the interior of Uruguay.

During this quadrennium began a remarkable movement
among the German population which has since assumed large
proportions. We have seen Henry Boehm* going the rounds

 

* Henry Boehm died in 1875, over a hundred years old. His father, Martin
Boehm, and William Otterbein were the first bishops elected by “The Church
of the United Brethren in Christ.” The relations of this Church to Methodism
have been, from the beginning, very fraternal.
594 Ristory of Methodism.

 

with Bishop Asbury and preaching to a thrifty, intelligent, and
increasing element of American citizens in their own language.
At one place in the West he says:

On Thursday we fired three guns in quick succession. Bishop Asbury preached
first, then Daniel Hitt, without any intermission, and as soon as he sat down I
preached in German. There was a good number of Germans present (many of
them Lutherans) who were permitted to sit near the stand and hear in their own
tongue the wonderful works of God. They were delighted. They had supposed
the difference in the effect of Methodist preaching from that of their own minis
isters was in the language. They thought the English expressed the gospel bet-
ter. But when the power of God came upon the people, and tears flowed down
many cheeks under German preaching, they were convinced the difference was
not in the language, but in the manner of communication; the one formal, the
other spiritual.

About 1835 appeared in Ohio a young German scholar, of
thorough but rationalistic education, who had been reclaimed
by Methodism to the faith of the Reformation—William Nast.
He labored for some time among his countrymen in Cincinnati,
under the direction and by the aid of the Missionary Society;
and in the next annual report of the Society the “German Mis-.
sion” and the name of its founder were first declared to the
Church. German Methodism rapidly extended in the North-west,
and to New Orleans and Texas in the South-west, and German
Methodist churches, circuits, districts, were organized.

The connection between Methodism and the great Reformer’s
countrymen is interesting. It was while John Wesley listened
to the reading of Luther’s expository writings that he was con-
verted. Before that he was awakened and put on the right path
by Bohler, in London, and Spangenburg, in Savannah. Asbury
insisted on having Otterbein join in his episcopal consecration.
And among the Germans in Europe and America are found some
of the best exemplars of primitive Wesleyanism.

The delegated body was becoming too large; the ratio of repre-
sentation must be reduced, and the Annual Conferences had been
requested by the General Conference of 1824 so to change the
second Restrictive Rule as to allow a representation of not less
than one for every twenty-one, instead of one for every seven.
According to the constitution it required the consent of every
Annual Conference to enact such a measure, and it was lost. A
more general measure was brought forward subsequently. The
eonventionsal body of 1808 was so tenacious of the restrictions
Constitutional Change—Education. 595

 

placed upon the delegated body which was to succeed it, it enact-
ed that they should be altered only by a majority of two-thirds of
the General Conference, on the joint recommendation of all the
Annual Conferences. This made a change very difficult; the
smallest Conference, by one vote, could defeat the whole Con-
nection in securing any object. ‘After various efforts the Annual
Conferences consented not only to alter the ratio of delegation,
but gave their consent that all the restrictions, except the first,
shall be subject to alteration upon the recommendation of two-
thirds of the General Conference, when three-fourths of all the
members of the several Annual Conferences who shall be present
and vote concur therein. Thus has the constitution stood since
1832. The first restriction, which guards doctrines, remains as
it was oxiginally; so that change, under it, with the present
number of Conferences, is barely not impossible.

About this time there was an enlargement of facilities for high-
er education under the influence and auspices of the Church.
Randolph Macon College, at Boydton, Virginia—Dr. Olin, pres-
ident; and La Grange College, La Grange, Alabama—Dr. Paine,
president, were opened under the patronage of the Southern and
South-western Conferences. The property of Dickinson College,
at Carlisle, Pennsylvania, was proffered to the Baltimore and
Philadelphia Conferences on certain conditions, which they ac-
cepted; and this institution, begun in 1783, passed under the pat-
ronage of Methodism. Dr. Durbin was president.

In 1830 Bishop McKendree made a donation of valuable lands
to Lebanon Seminary, twenty-five miles east of St. Louis, an in-
stitution founded by the Illinois Conference, of which the Rey. E.
R. Ames was principal. Its name was changed to McKendree
College, and a charter obtained in 1834—the Rev. Peter Akers,
D.D., being its first president.

In 1827 the Pittsburg Conference, desiring to establish a col-
lege, received the offer of an academy in Uniontown, Pennsylva-
nia, and it was opened under the title of “Madison College.”
Dr. Bascom was its first president, and Dr. Charles Elliott pro-
fessor. In 1833 Alleghany College, which had been established
at Meadville, was tendered to the Conference and accepied, and
the institution at Uniontown was removed to that place.

In 1830 a building in Middletown, Connecticut, owned by a
literary institution, was offered to the New England Conferenca
596 History of Methodism.

 

on condition of its raising $40,000 for endowment. The offer
was accepted, and Dr. Wilbur Fisk, who had charge of Wilbra-
ham Academy, was elected president, and removed to Middletown.
Thus the “Wesleyan University” began, under the patronage
of the New York and New England Conferences.

This was an educational outfit that began to be felt at once
for good upon the Church and country. The direct influence in
fostering Christian education was hardly greater than the indi-
rect influence in reforming or holding in check the State colleges
and universities, some of which had become godless and corrupt-
ing to an alarming extent. The lack of endowment was a sore
evil, and these institutions struggled under embarrassments
which all did not survive. Tuition fees were unequal to their
demands and unsteady, and the Church was slow to realize the
conditions of permanent success; but while trustees were per-
plexed, and agents were exercised, and professors were stinted,
educated men were sent forth to teach and to preach, to mold
public opinion and promote public improvements; and the re-
turn influence was in time to help the most persistent survivors,
or to establish others on a better foundation.

At the session of 1832 a large number of petitions were pre-
sented asking an amendment of the Discipline on the subject of
temperance so as to make the law more stringent, but no decided
action was taken in this direction.

The population moving westward, there was a demand for a
western periodical, and the General Conference authorized the
establishment of the Western Christian Advocate, of which Thomas
A. Morris was elected editor. John P. Durbin was elected ed-
itor of the Christian Advocate and Journal.

In the last year of his effective ministry (about 1818) that
man of blessed memory in the West—Benjamin Lakin—received
into the Church a couple of lads in Bourbon county, Kentucky,
who were destined to long and eminent usefulness... One was
apprenticed to a cabinet-maker in the village of Paris, and the
other to a printer. John P. Durbin made “cases” from which
Hubbard H. Kavanaugh set type; and pieces of furniture—his
handiwork—are yet preserved among friends of the family.
Both went into the ministry before they were twenty years old.
Durbin fell into the Ohio Conference, and his first circuit there
took him alone into the north-west corner of the State, “where
Seeking Education Under Difficulties. 597

 

the Indians still roved, to look after some one hundred members
of the Church who were scattered through the wilderness over a
circuit of two hundred miles.” In the narrow cabins of the new
settlers he made himself acquainted with Wesley’s and Fletcher’s
works; or, when weather permitted, after preaching and the class-
meeting were over, he betook himself to the groves for study.
Next year his circuit was in Indiana, and there, at the instance
and by the help of his colleague, J. Collard, he was inducted
into English grammar; after which Dr. Ruter advised him to
try Latin and Greek, furnishing him the primers. All this
time the young preacher was making his mark in preaching, his
cares and studies being drawn that way. There was something
in him that held his audience by a strange spell. Stationed the
next year in Hamilton, Ohio, about twelve miles from Miami
University, he attended the university through the week, pursu-
ing his studies, and returned on Friday to prepare for the pul-
pit. At first this caused some dissatisfaction among the people;
but when they saw his thirst for knowledge, and his fidelity and
efficiency during three days of the week, and reflected, perhaps,
that while they were losing a small per cent. of his services
for one year, he was laying the foundation to increase the value
of his services to the whole Church fifty per cent. for the re-
maining years of his life, they had the good sense to approve
his course. The next year he was stationed in Lebanon, and
still pushed his studies. His next appointment was in Cincin-
nati, where he was admitted to the Cincinnati College. Here he
finished his collegiate course and was admitted to the degree of
A.M. After taking his degree he was appointed Professor of
Languages in Augusta College. Traveling eastward to collect
funds for the college, he first became known in the pulpits there.
A genuine light from the West rose upon them, and the Kast re-
tained him. In 1831, in his absence, the Senate of the United
States elected him chaplain. His sermons in the capitol were
memorable. In 1832 he was elected Professor of Natural Sciences
ix the Wesleyan University, Connecticut, but resigned upon being
elected editor of the Christian Advocate and Journal. This posi-
tion he vacated in 1834 to take the presidency of Dickinson Col-
lege, where he gathered around him a faculty of rare power and
learning. By travel abroad he was still more enlarged. Un-
promising in appearance— unless looked at closely; addicted
598 History of Methodism.

 

to drawling exordiums and overwhelming perorations; such,
in part, was John P. Durbin. Those who could not define his
power felt and acknowledged it willingly. Great in executive
ability as well as in speech, he would surely have been at the head
of the cabinet-making business had not the Lord called him to
something else. He did not display his full capacity for affairs,
however, until as Missionary Secretary he came to the directury
of a world-wide enterprise for the salvation of souls.

Thomas A. Morris, who was put at the helm of the Western
paper at the same time Durbin took a similar position in the East,
was born in Kanawha county, Virginia, in 1796. He says:

July, 1813, while I listened to David Young preaching at a camp-meeting, on
the parable of the sower, [ was brought to form a solemn purpose to seek earnestly
for salvation till I should obtain it. In August I joined a small country class on
trial. I had prayed in secret for months, but made little progress till I took this
decisive step, and thus drew a separating line from my irreligious associates. The
conflict with sin thus renewed continued till some time in November, when I ob-
tained some relief and comfort, and on Christmas-day I received a clear sénse of
pardon and a full “spirit of adoption.” In the meantime I missed none of David
Young’s quarterly-meetings. At one of them he baptized me in the presence of
a multitude, and the same day on which he poured the water on my head the
Lord poured plentifully his Spirit into my heart.

Reared in a rural district of a new country, amid agricultural pursuits, I was in-
ured to toils and perils, which have been of service to me in every relation of
subsequent life. “By grace am what Iam.” An experience of over fifty years
confirms my conviction that in Christ alone are pardon, peace, and heaven.

In 1816 he began to preach through Tennessee, Kentucky,
Virginia, and Ohio, and was quietly, steadily useful. The firm-
ness of conscious rectitude and the meekness of wisdom were
blended in him, and in all the relations which he bore to the
Church a healthful influence went out from him. He was given’
to clear, short sermons abruptly concluded.

Bishop McKendree’s last Conference (Lebanon, Tennessee)
closed Nov. 14, 1834,* and he preached his last sermon in Mc-
Kendree Church, Nashville, on Sunday, Nov. 23. In the course
of the next month he reached his brother’s residence in Sumner
county, under a presentiment that his end was near, and in ac-
cordance with a long-cherished wish to die at home and be

 

*In the same county (Wilson, Tennessee), and near the same place (Liberty
Hill) where he held his first Conference (in 1808), he held his last; and within «
few miles, in the same county, is Bethlehem, where, in 1815, Bishop Asbury held
his last Conference.
Bishop McKendree Takes Leave. 596

 

buried there. His father and brother had removed from Vir-
ginia several years before, and resided at Fountain Head, about
a day’s journey north of Nashville. Bodily infirmities, which
had been held at bay by the resistance of a strong will, now
rushed upon him, bowed under the weight of seventy-eight
years. <A favorite sister who, like himself, lived and died un-
mairied and seemed to live for God and her brother, waited up-
on him, and watched by his bedside unceasingly. Once awak-
ing from slumber in the night he looked at her and his nieces,
sitting by his bed, and said, with a smile: “You are like a lamp—
burning while I sleep, to cheer me when I wake.”

On Sunday before his death his brother, the doctor, said to
him: “Bishop, you are sinking fast; we shall, in all probability,
soon be separated.” He replied: “Yes, I know it; but all is
well.” He made a signal that he wished to speak. To his neph-
ew, leaning over to receive his communication, he said: “All is
well for time or for eternity. [live by faith in the Son of God.”
In his most emphatic manner he repeated: “I wish that matter
to be perfectly understood—that all is well with me, whether I
live or die. For two months I have not had a cloud to darken
my sky. I have had uninterrupted confidence in my Saviour’s
love.” He was fond of the phrase, “All is well.” To inquiries
as to the state of his soul, this was his usual reply. It was, in-
deed, his last connected expression, although the last word was
“Yes,” in answer to the question asked him while dying, “Is all
well now?” He died March 5th, and was buried in the family
grave-yard, by the side of his father.*

The reader has taken knowledge of the first native American
bishop as providentially suited to the constitutional era of the
Church. Though keenly alive to the personal alienations and
the conflicts which befell him, he lived to see both its doctrines
and polity under the protection of fundamental law. The ready-
coined reproach—love of power—moved him not while he met
the responsibility of his time and station. He appreciated the

 

* Forty years afterward, when the changes of time and the desolations of war
tad turned the old homestead into a ruin, and the large stone, with its full but
tudely cut epitaph was thrown down, and the grave was in a way soon to be lost
sight of, the remains of Bishop McKendree were disinterred, and placed, with
Bishop Soule’s, in the campus of Vanderbilt University. A granite monument
marks the spot where the two rest together—Cavalier and Puritan,
600 History of Methodism.

 

relation of good government to a pure religion; and in govern-
ment, he understood the relation of its parts. He saw the
missionary epoch inaugurated, at home and abroad. The edu-
cational advance came in his day. “The last letter,” says his
biographer, then at the head of one of the rising institutions of
the South, “the last letter I ever received from him, and not long
previous to his death, contained fifty dollars for La Grange
College. The handwriting detected the giver. No appeal had
Jbeen made to him, yet out of his annual pittance he was prompted
by his interest in the cause of education to make the donation,
and tried to conceal the donor. His special object was that the
money should be applied to place in the college library the
standard religious literature of the Church, for the instruction
and benefit of the students.”

It is not beneath the dignity of the subject, in illustrating
character, to add that, like other itinerants, he had a kind feel-
ing for his horse. Asbury admired his sure-footed Fox as he
nobly breasted a mountain torrent. Soule took Hero from the
turf, believing that blood would tell; and how many continental
rounds he made on him it might sound marvelous to say. And
McKendree did not forget “Old Gray,” a horse as well known
to thousands as his master. They had become superannuated
together, and he bequeathed money sufficient out of his savings
to furnish the venerable roadster, nearing thirty years, with
plenty of food, a good stable, and a bluegrass pasture for life.

Members are gathering at Cincinnati for the General Con-
ference, and many will remember the manner of Bishop Mc-
Kendree’s leave-taking in 1832, described by one who saw it:

His last visit to the Conference was made the day before the adjournment.
Having remained as long as his strength would allow, he arose to retire. He was
but too conscious of his approaching dissolution to expect ever to meet his treth-
ren again in another General Conference. Leaning on his staff, his once tall and
inanly form now bent with age and infirmity, his eyes suffused with tears, his
voice faltering with emotion, he exclaimed, “Let all things be done without strife
or vainglory, and try to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace! My
brethren and children, love one another.” Then spreading forth his trembling
hands and raising his eyes to- heaven, he pronounced, in faltering and affectionate

accents, the apostolic benediction. Slowly and sadly he left the house to return
ny more. The whole assembly rose and stood till he disappeared.
CHAPTER XLI.

Che Struggle and Defeat of Abolitionism in the Church—Presiding Elders in the
Conflict—General Conference Refuses to Change the Discipline—Restates the
Position—Despairing to Accomplish their Purpose, Abolitionists Secede—-The
Wesleyan Methodist Church Organized—Peace and Prosperity.

HE meting of the General Conference (May, 1836) in Cin-
cinnati presented a reduced delegation but a very able body.
The death of two and the infirm health of three bishops made
the strengthening of the episcopacy necessary, and near the
close of the session Beverly Waugh, then Book Agent at New
York, a native of Fairfax county, Virginia, and Wilbur Fisk,
were elected. After several ballotings, Thomas A. Morris was
also chosen. Dr. Fisk was then absent in Europe, and on his
return declined accepting the office, believing it to be his duty
to remain President of the Wesleyan University.*

The Missionary Society now took its position as one of the
great departments of the Church, and Dr. Nathan Bangs was
elected Secretary, with a salary and no other work to do.

A familiar ghost reiippeared. The report adopted shows how
it fared—presented May 22 by the chairman, John Davis, a
leading member of the Baltimore Conference:

The committee to whom were referred sundry memorials from the North, pray-
ing that certain rules on the subject of slavery, which formerly existed in our book
of Discipline, should be restored, and that the General Conference take such
measures as they may deem proper to free the Church from the evil of slavery,
beg leave to report that they have had the subject under serious consideration, and
are of opinion that the prayers of the memorialists cannot be granted, believing
that it would be highly improper for the General Conference to take any action
that would alter or change our rules on the subject of slavery. Your committee
therefore respectfully submit the following resolution:

Resolved, That it is inexpedient to make any change in our book of Discipline
respecting slavery, and that we deem it improper further to agitate the subject in
the Genera. Conference at present.

During the session of the Conference an anti-slavery meeting
was held in the city, and two members attended and took part in

 

*On the first ballot 153 voters were present. Beverly Waugh obtained 35
and Wilbur Fisk 78 votes. After balloting the sixth time, Thomas A. Morris
abtained 86 votes. (General Conference Journal.)

(601)
602 History of Methodism.

 

the discussion. Whereupon their conduct was taken notice of
in the following manner:

Whereas great excitement has prevailed in this country on the subject of mod-
ern abolitionism, which is reported to have been increased in this city recently by
the unjustifiable conduct of two members of the General Conference, in lecturing
uyon and in favor of that agitating topic; and whereas such a course on the part
of any of its members is calculated to bring upon this body the suspicions and dis-
trust of the community, and misrepresent its sentiments in regard to the point at
issue; and whereas in this aspect of the case, a due regard for its own character,
as well as a just concern for the interests of the Church confided to its care, de-
mand a full, decided, and unequivocal expression of the views of the General
Conference in the premises: therefore,

Resolved, by the delegates of the Annual Conferences in General Conference
assembled, That they disapprove, in the most unqualified sense, the conduct of
two members of the General Conference who are reported to have lectured in
this city recently upon and in favor of modern abolitionism.

Resolved, That they are decidedly opposed to modern, abolitionism, and wholly
disclaim any right, wish, or intention to interfere in the civil and political rela-
tion between master and slave as it exists in the slave-holding States of this Union.

The first resolution was adopted, one hundred and twenty-two
voting in favor, and eleven against it.

The second resolution was then read., An amendment was
moved by Orange Scott, of New England, and after considerably
debate the motion to amend was lost, one hundred and twenty.
three against, and fourteen in favor of it. The resolution was
again read, and a division of it called for. The first member of
the resolution was adopted, one hundred and twenty in favor,
and fourteen against it. On taking the question on the remain-
ing part of the resolution, one hundred and thirty-seven voted in
favor of it, and none in the opposition. The preamble was then
read and adopted.

David Young, of Ohio, chairman of the Judiciary Committee,
to which was referred the complaints of certain local preachers
in Lancaster county, Virginia—belonging to the Baltimore Con-
ference—made a report. The complainants first invite the at-
tention of the General Conference to the section of the Disci- '
pline which states that “no slave-holder shall be eligible to any
official station in our Church hereafter, when the laws of the
State in which he lives will admit of emancipation and permit
the liberated slave to enjoy freedom.” They then produce an
extract of the laws from the commonwealth of Virginia, show-
ing their extreme rigor in this matter, and they allege that the
Defining Position. 603

 

Conference has unjustly refused them ordination, because of
slave-holding, as they deem their case to be precisely one of the
exceptions to the general statute provided for in the Discipline.

The committee refrain from judging the Baltimore Conference,
not knowing all the grounds of action in dealing with thé cases of
certain slave-holding local preachers, and conclude thus: “ Havy-
ing said this much respecting the alleged grounds of grievance,
your committee agree in the opinion that the exceptions to the
general rule in the Discipline, referred to by the petitioners, _
clearly apply to official members of the Church in Virginia, ac-
cording to the laws of the commonwealth, and do therefore pro-.
tect them against a forfeiture of their official standing on account
of said rule.” The report was adopted.

-If any thing else were necessary to define the position of Meth-
odism, it was furnished in the Pastoral Address. On motion
of S. G. Rozell, of the Baltimore Conference, the committee ap-
pointed to draft it were formally instructed “to take notice of the
subject of modern abolition, that has so seriously agitated the dif-
erent parts of our country, and that they let our preachers, mem-
bers, and friends know that the General Conference is opposed to
the agitation of that subject, and will use all prudent means to
put it down.” And these instructions were followed.

This session was noteworthy for the amount of well-digested
. legislation on the Book Concern, the revised constitution of the
Missionary Society, the order of Church courts in the trial of
preachers and members, and the location of inefficient and unac-
ceptable traveling preachers, and for a general improvement in
ecclesiastical jurisprudence.

In addition to the Christian Advocate and Journal and the West-
ern Christian Advocate, similar papers were established in Charles-
ton, Richmond, and Nashville, to be conducted under the direc-
tion and patronage of the Connection. The Christian Apologist,
for the Germans, was also authorized to be published in Cin-
cinnati by the Western Book Concern.

A new and stringent act on Temperance being under dis-
cussion, “on motion of William Winans it was resolved that the
resolution under consideration be referred to the Bishops, with
the request that they give their opinion whether it interferes
with the fourth restrictive regulation in our Discipline.” The res.
olution went to the Annual Conferences, which failed to concur.
604 History of Methodism.

 

While peace and prosperity were the rule for the next eight
years, New England was an exception. The two delegates of
the New Hampshire Conference—Norris and Storrs—who had
been censured at Cincinnati, were lionized at home. A system.
atic agitation was begun, and extraordinary preambles and res.
olutions were thrust upon Annual and Quarterly Conferences.
Some of these resolutions censured the acts and attitude of other
Annual Conferences, especially in the South; unchristianized a
large proportion of American Methodists; reflected seriously
upon the administration; and pronounced harsh judgment upon
ministers and members in good standing in the Church who had
not been arraigned. The Bishops, believing that one Annual
Conference had no right to censure the proceedings of another,
and that such business was no part of the disciplinary schedule
which they, as executive and judicial officers of the Church, were
required to carry out, ruled against these resolutions, and declined
to put them to vote; and they instructed the presiding elders
to hold their judicatories to legal and legitimate business. One,
who allowed the quarterly-meetings of his district to be turned
virtually into abolition meetings, was removed; another, who
became very unpopular for keeping abolition business off the
record and out of the official meetings, was returned to his dis-
trict in the face of opposition. Of course, vigorous and pushing
men like Messrs. Scott, Storrs, Horton, Sunderland, Merrill,
and their company, were not to be checked up by “rulings.”
Their consciences were in it, and they must testify, not only as
men, but “in a Conference capacity.” The tyranny of bishops
was denounced, and the elective presiding eldership was in fa-
vor. The older Bishops—Hedding and Soule—encountered
rough seas, but weathered the storm with only slight damage;
but when it was the turn of Bishops Waugh and Morris to pre-
side in New England, they properly dreaded it. The latter wrote
requesting Bishop Soule to meet him in New Hampshire, and help
him out. Bishop Waugh held the Conference at Nantucket, June,
1837.* A caucus or convention representing sixty preachers met
in advance or outside of the session, to arrange a programme,
and a committee was appointed to wait on him and inquire
whether he will rule against the introduction of abolition peti-

 

*Anti-slavery Struggle and Triumph in the Methodist Episcopal Church, by
L. C. Matlack, D.D., 1881; with an Introduction by D. D. Whedon, D.D-
Threatening to Block Business. 605

 

tions, appointing a committee on them, and discussing and dis-
posing of any report from such a committee in a Conference ca-
pacity, and they conclude: “ We think we have good reason to
believe that if the privilege of introducing these petitions and
memorials of our people is denied, the Conference will refuse to
act on any subject that shall be introduced.”* The Bishop asked
time to consider of it; and next day he replied in a long letter.
We give an extract:

I respectfully and affectionately say to you that as far as may be consistent with
my obligations to the General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, it
will afford me pleasure to abstain from any course in which conflict or disagree-
ment will be likely to arise on any subject which may come before the Conference.
I cannot, however, admit the doctrine which you have set up in your communi-
cation, when you say that it is your right to appoint a committee to report on said
memorial, and also to act on any report from such committee. I cannot admit
this unqualified and unlimited doctrine of right, because I know of no instrument
or organization, or established usage, which gives such a right to an Annual Con-
ference. Annual Conferences owe their existence to the General Conference, and
cannot have organization without the action of that body in fixing the boundaries
thereof. The General Conference determines not only the location and bounds
of an Annual Conference, but defines the business to which its action extends. It
will not be pretended by any one that an Annual Conference is a legislative body.
Its functions are judicial and executive. Whence then the right claimed, to re-
ceive memorials on the subject of slavery, to refer them to a committee, and to
act on any report which may be made by such committee? It is, indeed, admitted
that those Conferences within whose bounds slavery exists can and ought to take
such cognizance of the subject as they are empowered and directed to do by the
General Conference, and to perform executive acts in fulfillment of the regulations
of the General Conference; but what executive act can be performed by an Annual
Conference on the subject of slavery, in whose bounds it has no existence? But
the doctrine set up cannot be admitted because of its destructive tendency. If an
Annual Conference can extend its jurisdiction over questions other than those
which are judicial and executive, then it may introduce and prosecute measures
which may arraign, censure, or condemn the very body which gives it existence.
It may appoint a committee to investigate and report on any of our doctrines,

 

*It was “voted” to appoint a committee “ to fix on some proper plan of operations,” in
case the Bishop’s rulings were not favorable; and this is the report which the Rev. La Roy
Sunderland, chairman of the committee of five, presented: “'The committee to whom was re
ferred the question as to the best measures for the Conference to take, in case the Bishc p
denies us the right of acting in a Conference capacity on the memorials to be presented on
the subject of slavery to-morrow morning, report that in their opinion the best measure ‘n
the case above supposed will be to lay every other question upon the table till this right ia
granted us; as this question, under present circumstances, the committee believe to be para-
mount in its cla.ms to any uther which can at this time come before the Conference. And
should this plan fail we recommend that the Conference should adjourn to the commence
ment of another session, from time to time, till our rights are granted us; and that the inter
yals be spent in solemn prayer” (Methodism and Slavery, by L. C. Matlack, 1849,)

2N
606 History of Methodism.

 

either favorably or unfavorably. It may take under its zevision the very Disci-
pline itself, and by report sanction or condemn it.

The correspondence, and questions for the Chair on the Con-
ference floor, ran along through the session; the Bishop was
badly badgered, and afterward roundly berated.

Bishop Hedding argued the case often and at length with his
old friends of New England. A short extract from one of his
addresses will serve to indicate the drift:

It has been said, “It is the prerogative of the (Annual) Conference to decide
what business they will do, and when they will do it.” But I deny it—this is as-
suming the rights of the General Conference, and usurping a control over the
president of an Annual Conference which no body of men has a right to exercise
but the General Conference. And because I was unwilling to submit to this usur-
pation I have been severely censured. I have been unjustly, repeatedly, and cru-
elly held up to public view, by certain inconsiderate writers, as one who infringed
on the “rights” of my brethren.

Of course these reformers had an organ—Zion’s Watchman.
In its columns vituperation ran riot. They denounced officials
as pro-slavery, the tools of the slave power, tyrants; they assailed
the whole Church as “rotten,” “stained with the blood of bonds-
men.” Dr. Fisk saw the plague spreading, and wrote able let-
ters sustaining the administration, and declaring to his New
England friends “that the doctrines and measures of mod-
ern abolitionism are revolutionary in their character and tend-
ency, and must, if persisted in, end in schism and in the dis-
memberment of the Church of Christ.” Dr. Bangs and Bishops
Hedding and Soule, out of abundant material, repeatedly brought
charges against some of the leaders for “slander,” “falsehood,”
“misrepresentation,” “treating me in a scurrilous manner,”
“publishing against me an injurious falsehood.” It availed noth-
ing. Charges might he supported by specifications and specifi-
cations by proof, but getting a verdict was another thing. The
result was—acquitted, triumphantly acquitted! ‘Modern aboli-
tion” had this quality—it was blind, as well as bitter.

Sunderland, who conveniently held a superannuated relation,
moved to New York City to publish his paper, and fell into a trap
which his partisans averred had been set to catch him. A late
law provided that a superannuated preacher might be arrest-
ed for “immoral and unchristian conduct” wherever residing,
even though outside of his Conference limit. Sunderland was
arrested and tried before D. Ostrander, presiding elder of
Difficulty in Getting a Verdict. 607

 

New York District, and found guilty on eleven specifications,
including such terms as “misrepresentation,” “vituperation,”
“deception,” “defamation,” “slander” —a committee of five
leading ministers saying over their signatures that “the charge
is clearly and fully sustained by the testimony.” He was sus-
‘pended until the New England Conference met, which promptly
set aside the whole affair. The New York Conference (in 1839)
sent up a grave charge against him, with a committee to prose-
cute it. After hearing the case, the verdict was: “And he hereby
is acquitted, on the charge preferred against him by the New York
Annual Conference.”*

The presiding elders had a hard time; for where a bishop had
one conflict in a year they might have twenty. Some Quarterly
Conferences were closed up after the presiding elder, worn out
_ ahd worried by adjournment and other tactics, had left the chair,
and matters were entertained and entered upon the official jour-
nal which he had ruled out.

The whole matter came before the General Conference of 1840,
both in passing upon the administration of the four preced-
ing years, and in the Address of the Bishops. The Address
brought the subject up directly. After speaking’of the satis-
factory state of the Connection, and the good effects and gen-
eral observance of the Pastoral Address sent forth in 1836,
which advised abstinence “from all abolition movements and
from agitating the exciting subject in the Church,” it adds: “But.
we regret that we are compelled to say that in some of the North-
ern and Eastern Conferences, in contravention of your Christian
and pastoral counsel and our best efforts to carry it into effect,
the subject has been agitated in such forms and in such a spirit
as to disturb the peace of the Church. This unhappy agitation
has not been confined to the Annual Conferences, but has been
introduced into Quarterly Conferences and made the absorbing
business of self-created bodies in the bosom of our beloved Zion.”
After stating the controversy that had arisen as to “the consti-
tutional powers of the General Superintendents in their rela-
tions to the Annual Conferences,” and as to “the rights of An-
nual and Quarterly Conferences in their official capacities,” and
showing that “the geographical bounds of the controversy are
very limited,” the Address proceeds to state the points at issue:

* Methodism and Slavery, by L. C. Matlack, pages 248-251.
608 History of Methodism.

 

The whole subject may be presented to you in the following simple questions:
When any business comes up for action in our Annual or Quarterly Conferences,
involving a difficulty on a question of law, so as to produce the inquiry, What is
the law in the case? does the constitutional power to decide the question belong
to the president or the Conference? Have the Annual Conferences a constitution-
al right to do any other business than what is specifically prescribed, or by fair
construction, provided for in the form of Discipline? Has the president of an
Annual Conference, by virtue of his office, a right to decline putting a motion or
resolution to vote, on business other than that thus prescribed or provided for?
These questions are proposed with exclusive reference to the principle of constitu-
tionai right. The principles of courtesy and expediency are very different things.

As far as we have been able to ascertain the views of those who entertain opin-
ions opposite to our own on these points, they may be summed up as follows:
They maintain that all questions of law arising out of the business of our Annual
or Quarterly Conferences are to be, of right, settled by the decision of those
bodies, either primarily by resolution or finally by an appeal from the decision
of the president; “that it is the prerogative of an Annual Conference to decile
what business they will do and when they will do it;” that they have a constitu-
tional right “to discuss, in their official capacity, all moral subjects;” to investi-
gate the official acts of other Annual Conferences, of the General Conference, and
of the General Superintendents, so far as to pass resolutions of disapprobation or
‘approval on those acts. They maintain that the president of an Annual Confer-
ence is to be regarded in the same relation to the Conferences that a chairman or
speaker sustains to a civil legislative assembly; that it ishis duty to preserve order
in the Conference, to determine questions of order subject to appeal, and put to vote
all motions and resolutions, when called for, according to the rules of the body;
that these are the settled landmarks of his official prerogatives as president of the
Conference, beyond which he has no right to go; that although it belongs to his
office, as general superintendent, to appoint the time for holding the several An-
nual Conferences, he has no discretionary authority to adjourn them, whatever
length of time they may have continued their session, or whatever business they
may think proper to transact. From these doctrines we have felt it our solemn
duty to dissent; and we will not withhold from you our deliberate and abiding
conviction that should they be sustained by the General Conference the uniform
and efficient administration of the government would be rendered impracticable

The response of the General Conference came in the form of
the following enactment, proposed by a committee of which Dr.
Winans was chairman: ‘

The president of an Annual or a Quarterly-meeting Conference has the right
to decline putting the question on a motion, resolution, or report, when in his
judgment such motion, resolution, or report does not relate to the proper busi-
ness of the Conference; provided that in all such cases the president, on being
reqnired by the Conference to do so, shall have inserted in the journals of the
Conference his refusal to put the question on such motion, resolution, or report,
with his reason for so refusing. /

That the president of an Annual or a Quarterly-meeting Conference has the
Restating the Position. 609

 

right to adjourn the Conference over which he presides when, in his judgment,
all the business prescribed by the Discipline to such Conference shall have been
transacted; provided that if an exception be taken by the Conference to his so
adjourning it, the exception shall be entered upon the journal of such Conference.

The proviso secures the ground—if there be ground—for a
charge of maladministration or malfeasance against the presid-
ing officer to the proper tribunal.

A memorial from the official members of Westmoreland, Vir-
ginia, repeated the complaint which four years before had been
vent up by their neighbors of Lancaster, that, while geograph-
ically they were subject to State laws under which emancipation,
in the sense of the Discipline, could not take place, the Balti-
more Conference, to which ecclesiastically they belonged, dis-
criminated against them, refusing to elect local preachers to or-
ders, or to admit them into the traveling connection, because they
were slave-holders. Whereupon the following action was taken:

Resolved, by the delegates of the several Annual Conferences in General Con-
ference assembled, That under the provisional exception of the general rule of the
Church on the subject of slavery, the simple holding of slaves, or mere owner-
ship of slave property, in States or Territories where the laws do not admit of
emancipation and permit the liberated slave to enjoy freedom, constitutes no legal
barrier to the election or ordination of ministers to the various grades of office

known in the ministry of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and cannot therefore
be considered as operating any forfeiture of right in view of such election and or-

dination.

The English Wesleyans had, as usual, proffered advice on the
vexed question, to which the American Methodists say in a reply
adopted by the General Conference and signed by all the Bish-
ops: ‘We assure you then, brethren, that we have adopted no
new principle or rule of discipline respecting slavery since the
time of our apostolic Asbury; neither do we mean to adopt any.
We should regard it a sore evil to divert Methodism from her
proper work of ‘spreading Scripture holiness over.these lands,’
to questions of temporal import, involving the rights of Cesar.”

The foreign brethren are reminded of the peculiar structure
of the United States Government:

That while some States favor emancipation, there are others in which slavery
exists so universally and is so closely interwoven with their civil institutions
that both do the laws disallow of emancipation and the great body of the people
(the source of laws with us) hold it to be treasonable to set forth any thing, by
word or deed, tending that way. Each one of all these States is independent
of the rest and sovereign, with respect to its internal government (as much go 27

39
610 Aistory of Methodism.

 

if there existed no confederation among them for ends of common interest), and
therefore it is impossible to frame a rule on slavery proper for our people in
all the States alike. . . . Under the administration of the venerated Dr.
Coke, this plain distinction was once overlooked, and it was attempted to urge
emancipation in all the States; but the attempt proved almost ruinous, and -
was socn abandoned by the Doctor himself. While, therefore, the Church has
encouraged emancipation in those States where the laws permit it, and al-
lowed the freed man to enjoy freedom, we have refrained for conscience’ sake
from all intermeddling with the subject in those other States where the lawe
make it criminal. And such a course we think agreeable to the Scriptures and
indicated by St. Paul’s inspired instruction to servants in his First Epistle to the
Corinthians, chapter vii., verses 20-24.

This part of the Address concludes by quoting with approval
the words of Richard Watson, speaking, in 1833, to their own
preachers in the West Indies: “ Your only business is to promote
the moral and religious improvement of the slaves to whom you
may have access, without in the least degree, in public or private,
interfering with their civil condition.”

The North and East furnished able combatants on both sides
of the home controversy. The propositions affirmed by the ab-
olitionists and denied by the conservatives may be stated thus:
All slave-holding is sinful. No slave-holder should be retained
in the communion of the Christian Church. The Methodist
Episcopal Church is largely responsible for the continuance of
slavery in the United States. The Discipline should be changed
so as to exclude all slave-holders. Immediate and unconditional
emancipation is the duty and the right of all.

The conservatives set forth that the Old Testament recognized
the patriarchs as owning servants or slaves, who became such
by purchase or by being born in their house; that laws regu-
lating slavery were divinely authorized; and that the New Testa-
ment nowhere forbade the owning of slaves, but recognized both
Christian masters and their Christian slaves as united in fellow-
ship in the apostolic Churches ; and as to violent “ extirpation,’
even admitting the worst, they reminded their opponents of the
parable of the wheat and tares.

The abolitionists, replying, quoted the original Methodist tes-
timonies against all slave-holding; their subsequent modciifica-
tions, and the repeal of anti-slavery statutes; the abandonment
of early systematic plans of agitation; and the toleration of the
practice as evidence of responsibility for slavery.

A resolution asking for a constitutional change of Discipline,
Abolitionism Secedes. 611

 

making non-slave-holding a condition of membership, had passed
the New England Conference, and been sent to the other Annual
Conferences for concurrence, but it met with little favor.*

In the New York, Erie, and Pittsburg Conferences measures
were adopted and discipline enforced against ministers of these
bodies for their attendance upon anti-slavery conventions and
aclvocacy of abolition views “under the pretense of preaching
sermons.” <A standing question in the Philadelphia Conference
in 1837 and for years was, Are you an abolitionist?—an affirm-
ative answer insuring the rejection of a candidate for admission.
The discouragement of the reformers after the General Confer-
ence of 1840 was general and deep. “There is no reforming the
Church,” said some who had been sanguine. “ Abolitionism is
dead,” sighed others. A few held on, moaning, “There is no
hope.” An author remarks: “ Nevertheless, the Methodist anti-
slavery societies were not given up, though they had a sickly ex-
istence. The brethren in New England could not, with any face,
give up.the form, although the thing itself was languishing.” +

“During the autumn of 1840 an effort was made to rally the
abolitionists of the Church generally by holding a convention in
New York City, which brought together a large number of them.”
An American Wesleyan Anti-slavery Society was organized, but
diect at its first anniversary.{ It was clear the Church meant to
maintain the “Discipline as it is.” Having lost all hope, the
abolitionists prepared to secede.

In 1842 the Wesleyan Methodist Church was organized, under
the leadership of Messrs. Scott, Horton, Sunderland, Luther
Lee, Brewster, Ogden, Matlack, Prindle, and others—men of
force and of earnest convictions. The new organization accepted
the doctrines of the parent Church, but made non-slave-holding

 

*In the Genesee Conference, thirty voted for it and sixty against it. The Pitts-
burg Conference gave five votes for it. All the other Conferences outside of New
England gave less votes than these two, and in most cases none at all. The Mich-
igan Conference gave one vote for it, and the Erie Conference three. The North
Carolina, Philadelphia, Missouri, Indiana, New Jersey, Troy, Black River, Illinois,
Kentucky, Georgia, Baltimore, Virginia, and others, were unanimous for non-
concurrence, or reported no votes in favor of it. (Matlack’s Anti-slavery Struggle
and Triumph.)

+ Elliott’s Great Secession, 3s quoted by Matlack.

¢ Porter’s History of Methodism, Chapter XI. Matlack’s Anti-slavery Strng
gle and Triumph.
612 History of Methodism.

 

a condition of membership. They established a paper called
the True Wesleyan and a Book Concern in Syracuse, New York.
Within two or three years about twenty thousand members with-
drew, and joined them. Central New York and New England
were the principal seat of the secession. Strong and persistent
efforts were made to draw away disciples after them, and both
among ministers and members the indications of loss were for-
midable; but, as in 1828, when the other chronic element of
trouble drew off, so now,:many who had talked came to a pause
at the actual crisis. Men like Timothy Merritt could not lightly
leave the Church that made them, and which, in turn, they had
helped to make. A reaction set in. Many ultraists became
moderate for awhile, trying to save their Church from the
ruin of ultraism. The local irritation was active, but the gen-
eral relief was great. Conservatism had triumphed everywhere
except in one corner of the land, and there the “geographical
bounds of the controversy were very limited.”

Now came a period of peace and prosperity unprecedented.
Revivals prevailed, churches were built, colleges and schools
were full of students pursuing a higher curriculum; the mission-
work among the slaves, ever sensitive to such excitement, had
fallen off—but now it revived and prospered greatly. The in-
crease of the Church far exceeded any thing known in its pre-
vious history, being in 1841, 57,473; in 1842, 60,883; in 1948,
154,624; and in 1844, 102,831—making a total increase in the
four years of more than 375,000.

The experience of primitive days was comfortably repeated:
“Then had the churches rest throughout all Judea and Galilee
and Samaria, and were edified; and walking in the fear of the
Lord, and in the comfort of the Holy Ghost, were multiplied.”
CHAPTER XLII.

Texas Independence—The Republic Open to the Gospel—First Missionaries;
Ruter, Fowler, Alexander—Alexander First and Last in the Field—Arkansas;
Pioneers: William Stephenson, Henry Stevenson; Local Preachers: Alford,
Kinney, Denton, the Orr Brothers—Organization of Texas Conference—Ap-
pointments—Centenary Year—Progress of the Church—General Missionary
Secretaries: Bangs, Capers, Ames.

N the spring of 1836 the decisive battle of San Jacinto was
fought. The Texas Republic was set up; that wide door
was thrown open to Protestantism, and before another year
the episcopacy, in conjunction with the Missionary Society, had
planned to enter it. Dr. Martin Ruter, President of Alleghany
College, was appointed superintendent of the mission; and Lit-
tleton Fowler, then Agent for La Grange College, and Robert
Alexander, stationed at Natchez, were his assistants.

Again Natchez is the starting-point of Church extension. Al-
exander being nearest the field was first in it, quite in advance of
his co-laborers.* He crossed the Sabine River on the 19th of
August, 1837. His commission was an indefinite one—* Mis-
sionary to Texas.” Having traveled a few miles he found a settle-
ment and, calling the neighbors together, delivered his first ser-
mon ina private house. His host, after a short time, entered his
room and informed him that the people were unwilling to leave
without another sermon. He held a camp-meeting in the neigh-
borhood, where a class had been organized in 1834. After spend-
ing a few days more in forming the San Augustine Circuit, Alex-
ander proceeded westward and cheered the hearts of a band of old
Methodists at Washington, who had been praying for a preacher.
A second camp-meeting was held. He had the codperation of a
few faithful local preachers who had gathered a score of mem-
bers, of whom a goodly number were present at this camp-meet-
ing west of the Brazos. For another month he traveled and
preached in the scattered settlements, organizing classes and
laying the foundation for future churches.

 

* History of Methodism in Texas, by Rev. Homer S. Thrall (Houston, 1872)—-
12mo, pages 210; and the Jubilee copy of the Texas Christian Advocate, 1884. Tn
these valuable sources we are indebted for much of the following information.

(613)
614 Hi istory of Methodism.

 

Littleton Fowler entered the Republic vid Red River, travel-
ing in company with John B. Denton. Going on south, he
preached in Nacogdoches, and then went to Washington, where
he met Alexander, just after the close of his camp-meeting. He
left for the Mississippi Conference, which met at Natchez, Dec.
6, but Fowler remained in the West and, being in Houston
about the time Congress assembled, was elected chaplain of the
Senate. He received from the proprietors of the city a title to
a half-block of ground, upon which the Methodist church and
parsonage in that city now stand.

Dr. Ruter, with Mr. David Ayres, descended the Ohio and Mis-
sissippi rivers to Rodney; there took horse and, going west, met
Alexander at the Sabine, as he was recrossing that border stream
to report to his Conference. The two spent nearly the entire
night in laying plans for future operations. The superintendent
of the mission, with sagacious ardor, pursued his way to the Col-
orado. It is said that within three months he had gathered the
names of three hundred persons formerly members of the Meth-
odist Church. He preached before the Texas Congress, and de-
vised liberal things for education. He selected points where to
place ten or a dozen new laborers, and by correspondence and
personal influence deeply interested public opinion in the United
States for the evangelization of Texas. But in May, returning
for his family, Dr. Ruter was prostrated with a fatal sickness, and
made his honored grave in the mission field.

The Texas Conference was organized December 25, 1840, by
Bishop Waugh, Thomas O. Summers being secretary. Robert
Alexander was the precursor of an itinerant army which at his
death numbered over five hundred. He lived to see Texas di-
vided into six Annual Conferences (one for the German Meth-
odists), with eight hundred local preachers and ninety thousand
Church-members within its magnificent domain.*

 

*The first list of appointments will always be an interesting record. San Augus
line District: L. Fowler, P. E.; San Augustine, F. Wilson; Nacogdoches to pe sup>
plied; Harrison, N. Shook; Jasper, H.D. Palmer. Galveston District: S. A. Will-
iams, P. E.; Galveston and Houston, Thomas O. Summers; Brazoria, A. P. Man-
ley; Montgomery, Richard Owen, J. H. Collard; Liberty to be supplied; Crockett,
Daniel Carl; Nashville, R. Crawford. Rutersville District: R. Alexander, P. HK.
Austin, J. Haynie; Washington, Jesse Hord; Center Hill, R. H. Hill; Matagorda,
D, N. V. Sullivan; Victoria, Joseph P. Sneed. Chauncey Ricnardson, President
of Rutersville College.
Pioneer Preachers of Texas and Arkansas. 615

 

Ruter fell early; Fowler lived not long, and left a son to take
his place in the ranks. The memory of both is blessed. Other
laborers, strong and well adapted, were raised up or brought in.
But the name of Robert Alexander is preéminent. He entered
the Tennessee Conference in 1831, in his twentieth year. After
four years on circuits, he was promoted to the Chickasaw Dis-
trict, in Mississippi, and thence to his first station. When be-
ginning his forty-five years’ labor in Texas he was in the prime
of a vigorous manhood, with an experience beyond his years.
He stood six feet five inches high; was of a robust constitution.
His hair was reddish, his features strong, his eye intelligent,
and his courage equal to any emergency. He was blessed with
an excellent judgment, and a mellow, Christian experience.
The Conference memoir says, he “has left the impress of his
character upon every Methodist institution in the State. As a
preacher he was the peer of any of his comrades. Clear, log-
ical, and fearless, he preached the gospel with a consciousness
that his authority was not from men, but from God. No man
has done more for the cause of Christ and public virtue in Tex-
as, and every Christian communion in the State is indebted to
him for part of its life and growth.”

Let us not forget those who went before. William Stephenson
was born at Ninety-Six, in South Carolina, and though forty-
seven years old when admitted into Conference, he did thirty-
nine years of most valuable labor. He itinerated from Missouri,
through Arkansas and Louisiana to Texas. He was a good
preacher-—a great preacher, the people said. From 1821 to 1825
he was presiding elder on the Arkansas District, then a part of
the Missouri Conference. Subsequently he was presiding elder
on the Louisiana District from 1829 to 1833. This brought him
to the Sabine River, and he went over occasionally and bore the
gospel to the Americans who had settled there, disregarding the
Romish interdicts of the Mexican authorities.

Another pioneer, but not akin, was Henry Stevenson, a native
of Kentucky, converted and licensed to preach by Jesse Walker
ot the Illinois frontier in 1804. In 1817 he, with his growing
family, settled in Hempstead county, Arkansas, and was useful
as a local preacher. In 1820 he took work under the presiding
elder. He was admitted on trial in the traveling connection, but
bis poverty and the cares of a large family made him unwilling
616 History of Methodism.

 

to continue. Henry Stevenson visited Austin’s Colony as early
as 1824, and preached near Washington and on the Colorado,
near Columbus and San Felipe. He also paid these settlements
a visit in 1828, and another in 1830. In June, 1834, he organ-
ized a church in San Augustine, and made such headway that,
among the Mississippi appointments for 1835 we read: Texas
Mission—-Henry Stevenson. “His life,” says our authority,
“was spent upon the frontier, amid its perils and privations, and
he accomplished an immense amount of good. He preached
along the whole western boundary of settlements from the Mis-
souri River to the Colorado, and left a name which is as oint-
ment poured forth through all this vast region. It is hard to
fathom the secret of his success. He was neither learned nor
eloquent, in the ordinary acceptation of the terms, but he was a
good man, and cherished a single purpose to glorify God and do
all the good in his power.”

Besides Needham Alford and the two Orrs—twin brothers—
the most popular local preacher in prehistoric Texas Methodism
was John W. Kinney, a son-in-law of Barnabas McHenry, who
crossed the Brazos in 1833, and preached from Bastrop to Gon-
zales and Brazoria, and was ready with a camp-mieeting and
membership when Alexander reached his neighborhood four
years later. J.B. Denton was killed in an Indian raid.

While in session at Cincinnati the General Conference heard
the news of the battle of San Jacinto; at the next session, in Bal-
timore, it authorized the organization of the Texas Conference.
Such had been the extension of the field that there were in 1840
twenty-eight Annual Conferences, and five others were consti-
tuted at this session. For the first time in twelve years, peti-
tions were sent in asking for the election of presiding elders by
the Annual Conferences, and also praying for a “moderate epis-
copacy.” All these petitions came from New England.

The session at Baltimore was enlivened by the presence of the
Rey. Robert Newton, from England, and the Rev. Messrs. Ryer-
son, from Canada. The eloquent English delegate not only was
heard with delight and profit from the pulpit and platform, but he
preached in the open air to immense crowds, showing on a Bal-
timore square the secret of gospel power that had triumphed
on Moorfield Common a hundred years before.

Bishop Soule was appointed a fraternal delegate to the Britisb
Statistical Review—Missionary Secretaries. 617

Conference in 1842, with the Rev. Thomas B. Sargent as travel-
ing companion. Bishop Hedding received a similar appoint-
ment to the Canada Conference.

The Rev. Nelson Reed, the oldest traveling preacher in the
United States, though not a member, was invited to a seat on the.
platform. Fifty-six years before, he had taken part in the or-
ganization of the Church in that city.

In February, 1836, the Book Concern was burned. The new
buildings on Mulberry street and the stock were consumed, and
for a loss of $250,000 there was a recoverable insurance of only
$25,000. But from North and South donations to the amount of
$90,000 were realized, and the agents with increasing patronage
went forward with unchecked prosperity.

The Church was feeling joyfully the results of the Centenary
Celebration of 1839. English Methodism raised a million of
dollars that year; America, about $600,000; and the statistics
of Methodism throughout the world showed 1,171,000 members.
To-day, churches and schools throughout the country bear the
name of “Centenary,” dating from that year. The statistical re-
view was inspiring, and a better acquaintance with their own his-
tory, institutions, and doctrines was grateful and invigorating to
the Episcopal Methodists. They numbered, at this time, 749,216
members, 3,557 traveling preachers, and 5,856 local preachers. .
The Missionary Society was reported as being in a flourishing
condition, having appropriated $411,810 during the four preced-
ing years, and it more than doubled the collections of 1839 in
1840. Three General Secretaries were appointed—Dr. Bangs
remained.at New York; for the South, Dr. Capers was elected,
and for the West, the Rev. E. R. Ames.

The prospect was full of hope; the time, propitious. So true
is it, that the Church has nothing to fear from foes without, if
there is peace within.
CHAPTER XLIII.

The Situation—Abolitionisra a Failure in the Church, a Success Outside of it—
Meeting of General Conference in 1844: Proceedings in Bishop Andrew’s Case;
The Griffith Resolution; The Finley Substitute; Drift of Debate; Extracts
from a Few Speeches; The Final Vote; The Protest; The Plan of Separation.

: E have seen Episcopal Methodism, by the blessing of

God upon its polity and doctrines, spreading the gospel
over all these lands. J+ has shown conservative as well as pro-
gressive power. Four large secessions and one peaceable sepa-
ration have been endured, and yet every part of its government
is maintained intact, and its strength has constantly increased.
Internal elements, not germane to the system, have been elim-
inated; outward opposition has been overcome; and acces-
sions to the membership have so overbalanced secessions that
the growing statistics do not afford a hint of the years of the
greatest withdrawal. The original doctrinal standards have been
so well preserved that all the minor bodies agree on them, take
them away with them, and are jealous of their right to them as
a precious and peculiar heritage.

We have seen “modern abolitionism,” an irrepressible and ir-
ritating humor in the body of this Methodism, come to a head.
Under the leadership of Scott, Sunderland, and their company,
it is drawn off, and the old Church experiences a sense of relief
and bounds forward. Many Methodists in position to know,
many in the North and East, said that all trouble was over; the
triumph of conservatism was complete and its vindication glori-
ous. But affairs were destined to take another turn. The aboli-
tionists have lost the battle on the ecclesiastical arena; on the polit-
cal, they may win it, and did. A new force was evolved and came
into play. Birney, and Lundy, and Tappan, and Garrison, have
been working away, and their work is now felt. They began their
agitation not on the religious or loyal line; for the Bible and
the Constitution were spurned, and the Methodist Church, with
others, was honored with their denunciations. No minister
could be found to officiate at the first meeting of the abolition-
ists in Boston. By and by Congress began to be plied with peti-
tions, and slavery in the District of Columbia and slavery in the
territories began to be discussed; and the utterances of infuriate

(618)
The Pressure of a New Force—Political. 619

 

politicians on both sides became generators of public opinion.
Parties were formed—municipal, State, and -federal—so as to
conciliate or take advantage of this new force.* Though in the
Church the movement had signally failed, the astute secular
leaders were willing to accept aid from that quarter; and justice
requires it to be said, aid was rendered s0 effectively that the
complexion of “modern abolitionism ” was changed, and it came,
in the end, to conceive of itself not only as moral but religious.
One of the most incisive and candid Northern writers, who
finally threw his whole weight against the South, testifies:

It is of the first importance for us fully to realize that the abolition movement
was, in fact, an utter moral failure. It is a signal, popular illusion that original
abolitionism was a great, successful moral reform. This error is propagated with
much magniloquence by Mr. Garrison’s latest biographer. You would think
from the ordinary story that slavery was abolished by moral suasion, and that es-
sentially by the Garrisonian programme. Quite the reverse. All Mr. Garrison
did was to madden the slave-holders and bring on a war. The war might have
created a slave empire, and have perpetuated the system forever. The abolition
was not a moral achievement but a war measure.t

When this business passed into the realm of civil legislation
it went to its right place. We say nothing here of the right or
wrong methods pursued; but it belonged there. For obvious
reasons, the question when taken up by politicians became more
or less sectional; and when it became sectional it soon became
unequal. Through the immigrant gates of Castle Garden poured
hundreds of thousands annually to swell the ranks on one side.
In 1838 England completed her scheme of emancipation in the
West Indies, and the powerful pressure from that quarter was felt
in getting up the sentiment that always precedes a new party.
Englishmen are wise and, in whatever concerns themselves,

 

*The New York State Anti-slavery Society, January, 1840, issued a call for a
national convention at Albany on the first day of April ensuing, to discuss “the
question of an independent nomination of abolition candidates for President ard
Vice-president of the United States, and if thought expedient to make such nom-
inations for the friends of freedom to support at the next election.” The nomi-
nations were made. James Gillespie Birney, of Kentucky, and Thomas Earle, of
Pennsylvania, were the candidates. Of two million and a half votes cast at that
election, Birney and Earle received less than seven thousand. This was laughed
at, but at the next presidential election Birney, and Morris of Mhio, received sixty-
two thousand three hundred votes—an increase nearly tenfold; and soon the bal-
ance of power was wielded by them in some important elections. (Matlack.)

+D. D. Whedon, D.D., Introduction Anti-slavery Struggle and Triumph: 188]
620 History of Methodism.

 

very practical. They did not deprive citizens of property held
under a constitutional title, without compensation; they did not
indulge their philanthrophy at the expense of others, but paid
‘ $100,000,000 for the eight hundred thousand slaves emancipated
by Parliament. Similar propositions never tempered the schemes
of American abolitionists. They even opposed the Colonization
Society, whose office was to encourage voluntary emancipation
by assisting emancipated negroes in returning to Africa. If,
instead of being separated by a great distance from them, on
tropic isles, these eight hundred thousand liberated negroes
had been distributed throughout England, our English kinsmen
would doubtless have given us a practical solution of the social
and political problem that followed upon emancipation.

Omens of evil were felt on both sides, as Northern and South-
ern delegates assembled at the General Conference of 1844, in
New York. On the surface all was peaceful; but a groundswell
met them. New Hampshire memorials took exception to Dr
Capers, one of the “three General Secretaries of the Missiona-
ry Society,” as a slave-holder. May 7th the appeal of a member
from the Baltimore Conference was taken up. He wasan elder;
February before, he had married a young lady who owned a fam-
ily of five slaves. At the session of Conference in March he was
required, according to a usage of that body, to manumit them.
Failing to comply, he was “suspended until the next Annual
Conference, or until he assures the episcopacy that he has taken
the necessary steps to secure the freedom of his slaves.”

The case for the appellant was argued by Dr. William A. Smith,
and for the Conference by Rev. John A. Collins, with eminent abil-
ity. It appeared in evidence that by the laws of Maryland the
title and ownership inhered in the wife, and that a slave could
not be emancipated and continue to reside in the State in the en-
joyment of liberty. On the other hand, it was maintained that
no slave-holder had ever been a member of the Baltimore Con-
ference; the offending member knew this when he entered it, and
he had the fact before him when he married; that this usage of
the Conference had been uniformly insisted on in the case of
others; that notwithstanding the stringency of the State law,
slaves had been often manumitted and remained undisturbed in
the State; and as for the title, it was assumed that he could per-
suade his wife to join him in the act of manumission.
Trouble Ahead. 621

 

The reader of the journal, which is spread out with unusual
fullness at this point, cannot fail to see that the chief interest in
this case lay in its bearing upon another, of wider import, and
that it was debated and decided with the latter constantly in
view. On May 11, a vote was taken, and the motion to reverse
the sentence of the Conference failed—56 ayes, 117 noes.

The hearts of men who loved God and who loved the Church
were painfully conscious of the chilling shadow of an impend-
ing conflict falling upon their love for each other. They were
moved to seek some remedy. Therefore, on motion of Dr. Ca-
pers, on May 14, the following preamble and resolution were
adopted:

In view of the distracting agitation which has so long prevailed on the subject
of slavery and abolition, and especially the difficulties under which we labor in
the present General Conference on account of the relative position of our breth-
ren North and South on this perplexing question, therefore,

Resolved, That a committee of six be appointed to confer with the Bishops, and
report within two days, as to the possibility of adopting some plan, and what, for
the permanent pacification of the Church.*

In seconding the motion Dr. Olin, who had been alla to the
place vacated by the death of Dr. Fisk, at Middletown, said:

He had feared for these two or three days that though possibly they might es
cape the disasters that threatened them, it was not probable. He had seen the
cloud gathering, so dark that it seemed to him there was no hope left for them
unless God should give them hope. It might be from his relation to both ex-
tremities that, inferior as might be his means of forming conclusions on other top-
ics, he had some advantages on this; and from an intimate acquaintance with the
feelings of his brethren in the work he saw little ground of encouragement to
hope. It appears to me (he continued) that we stand committed on this question
by our principles and views of policy, and neither of us dare move a step from our
position. Let us keep away from the controversy until brethren from opposite
sides have come together. I confess I turn away from it with sorrow, and a deep
feeling of apprehension that the difficulties that are upon us now threaten to he
unmanageable. I feel it in my heart, and never felt on any subject as I do or
this; and I will take it on me to say freely that I do not see how Northern men
can yield their ground, or Southern men give up theirs. I do indeed believe that
if our affairs remain in their present position, and this General Conference do
not speak out clearly and distinctly on the subject, however unpalatable it may
be, we cannot go home under this distracting question without a certainty of
breaking up our Conferences. I have been to eight or ten of the Northern Con-
ferences, and spoken freely with men of every class, and firmly believe that, with
the fewest exceptions, they are influenced by the most ardent and the strongest
desire to maintain the discipline of our Church. Will the Southern men believe

*Committee: Capers, Olin, Winans, Early, Hamline, and Cranda&

20
622 History of Methodism.

 

me in this—when I say I am sincere, and well informed on the subject? The
men who stand here as abolitionists are as ardently attached to Methodist episco-
pacy as you all. I believe it in my heart. Your Northern brethren, who seem
to you to be arrayed in a hostile attitude, have suffered a great deal before they
have taken their position, and they come up here distressed beyond measure, and
disposed, if they believed they could, without destruction and ruin to the Church,
to make concession. It may be that both parties will consent to come together
and talk over the matter fairly, and unbosom themselves, and speak all that is in
their hearts; and as lovers of Christ keep out passion and prejudice, and with
much prayer call down the Holy Spirit upon their deliberations; and feeling the
dire necessity that oppresses both parties, they will at least endeavor to adopt
some plan of pacification, that if they go away it may not be without hope of
meeting again as brethren. I look to this measure with desire rather than with
hope. With regard to our Southern brethren—and I hold that on this question
at least I may speak with some confidence—if they concede what the Northern
brethren wish, if they concede that holding slaves is incompatible with holding
their ministry, they may as well go to the Rocky Mountains as to their own sunny
plains. The people would not bear it. They feel shut up to their principles on
this point. But if our difficulties are unmanageable, let our spirit be right. If we
must part, let us meet and pour out our tears together; and let us not give up until
we havetried. I cannot speak on this subject without deep emotion. If we push
our principles so far as to break up the Connection, this may be the last time w:
meet. I fear it! I fear it! I see no way of escape. If we find any, it will be
in mutual moderation, in calling for help from the God of our fathers, and in
looking upon each other as we were wont to do. These are the general objects J
had in view in seconding the resolution, as they are of him who moved it.
The reverend gentleman sat down amid deep and hallowed excitement.

On motion of Dr. Durbin it was resolved that to-morrow be
observed as a day of fasting and humiliation before God, and
prayer for his blessing upon the committee.

Four days afterward Bishop Soule reported back: “The Com-
mittee of Conference have instructed me to report that, after a
calm and deliberate investigation of the subject submitted to
their consideration, they are unable to agree upon any plan of
compromise to reconcile the views of the Northern and South-
ern Conferences.”

On motion of Mr. Collins, the Committee on Episcopacy were
instructed to ascertain the facts in the case of Bishop Andrew and
“report the results of their investigation to-morrow morning.”

On May 22, Dr. Paine, chairman, submitted the following:

“The Committee on Episcopacy, to whom was referred a reso-
lution, submitted yesterday, instructing them to inquire whether
any one of the Superintendents is connected with slavery, beg .
leave to present the following as their report on the subject
Bishop Andrew’s Case. 623

 

“The committee had ascertained, previous to the reference of
the resolution, that Bishop Andrew is connected with slavery,
and had obtained an interview with him on the subject; and hav-
ing requested him to state the whole facts in the premises, here-
by present a,written communication from him in relation: to this
matter, and beg leave to offer it as his statement and explanation
of the case:”

To the Committee on Episcopacy—Dear Brethren: In reply to your inquiry | sute
mit the following statement of all the facts bearing on my connection with slay-
ery. Several years since an old lady, of Augusta, Georgia, bequeathed to mea
mulatto girl, in trust that I should take care of her until she should be nineteen
years of age; that with her consent I should then send her to Liberia; and that
in case of her refusal, I should keep her, and make her as free as the laws of the
State of Georgia would permit. When the time arrived, she refused to go to Li:
beria, and of her own choice remains legally my slave, although I derive no pe-
cuniary profit from her. She continues to live in her own house on my lot; and
has been and is at present at perfect liberty to go to a free State at her pleasure;
but the laws of the State will not permit her emancipation, nor admit such deed
of emancipation to record, and she refuses to leave the State. In her case, there-
fore, I have been made a slave-holder legally, but not with my own consent.

Secondly. About five years since, the mother of my former wife left to her
daughter, not to me, a negro boy; and as my wife died without a will more than
two years since, by the laws of the State he becomes legally my property. In
this case, as in the former, emancipation is impracticable in the State; but he
shall be at liberty to leave the State whenever I shall be satisfied that he is pre-
pared to provide for himself, or I can have sufficient security that he will be pro-
tected and provided for in the place to which he may go.

Third. In the month of January last I married my present wife, she being at
the time possessed of slaves, inherited from her former husband’s estate, and be-
longing to her. Shortly after my marriage, being unwilling to become their
owner, regarding them as strictly hers, and the law not permitting their emanci-
pation, I secured them to her by a deed of trust.

It will be obvious to you from the above statement of facts that I have neithe,
bonght nor sold a slave; that in the only two instances in which I am legally a
slave-holder emancipation is impracticable. As to the servants owned by my
wife, I have no legal responsibility in the premises, nor could my wife emancipate
them if she desired to do so. I have thus plainly stated all the facts in the case,
and submit the statement for the consideration of the General Conference. Youre
respectfully, James 0. ANDREW.

The report was made the order of the day for May 28, when
Alfred Griffith and John Davis, of the Baltimore Conferenee.,
offered an historical preamble and the following resolution:

Resolved, That the Rev. James O. Andrew be, and he is hereby affectionately,
requested to resign his office as one of the Bishops of the Methodist Episcopa’
Church.
624 History of Methodism.

 

The time limit was removed, and Mr. Griffith led off in the
discussion. His speech furnished the key-note of several that
followed: “A bishop among us is, therefore, only an officer of
the General Conference, created for specific purposes, and for no
other than the purposes specified.”

Mr. Sandford (of New York) said: “The matter seemed to
lim to be confined to one single point—the expediency of making
this request of Bishop Andrew. He presumed that no man
would dispute their right to make the request, though they might
differ as to the expediency of doingit. In the majority of [ Annual]
Conferences which compose our Church, if something be not done
to remove the evil connected with the superintendency of Bishop
Andrew out of the way, they could not possibly avoid convul-
sions, and the loss of very large numbers of members, and give
opportunity to their enemies to exert a destructive influence
within the ranks of their community. This was clear and cer-
tain, and did not admit of a single doubt; and this he believed
to be the firm conviction on the mind of the Conference. It was
on this, and on this alone, that he wished to rest the expediency
of the measure now proposed.”

Dr. Winans (of Mississippi) was the first speaker on the
Southern side; a striking figure—tall and raw-boned. The veins
of his stringy neck might be seen, swollen with earnestness, for
he spoke in Italics and wore’no cravat. His limp shirt-collar
lay around, his clothes ‘were baggy, and his shoes tied with
strings; but his eye was bloodshot with intensity, and his head
a magnificent dome of thought. Exact, logical, forcible, he had
become known in the radical controversy of 1824, as unsur-
passed in debate. Other elements besides ecclesiastical entered
into this question, and he spoke in “the calmness of despair:”

Well, he was a slave-holder in 1840, exposed to the malediction of the North,
and just as unfit for the general superintendency as in January, 1844, And what
harm was there in marrying a woman who had been pronounced by one of the
most venerated of our ministers to be as fit a lady for a bishop’s wife as he ever
saw? What evil had he done by becoming a slave-holder further by that mar-
riage, when he was already a slave-holder beyond control? What had he done
by that marriage to prejudice his case? Just nothing at all, for he was already a
slave-holder by immutable necessity. In forming a matrimonial alliance, in seek-
ing one who was to become the mother of his children and the companion of his
declining years, he had married a pious and estimable lady, and that is the whole

matter; and yet he is advised to leave the superintendency on this ground.
What has he done by executing the deed of trust? What did he do to alter
Extracts from a Few Speeches—Drift of Debate. 620

 

the position of the slaves? Did he bring upon them any consequences prejudicial
to them? Did he incur any obligation to deprive that lady of her property be-
cause she had given him her hand? Why, the position will be this: that James
O. Andrew must cease to be a bishop because he has married a lady; for he has
done these negroes no harm by his momentary possession of them.

But, sir, the main point relied upon in this matter is the expediency of the
course contemplated. Expediency! Or, in other words, such a state of things
has been gotten up in the North and in the West as renders it necessary for Bish-
op Andrew to retire from the office of the superintendency if we would preserve
vhe union of the Church. Sir, I will meet this by another argument on expedi-
ency: by the vote contemplated by this body and solicited by this resolution, you
sender it expedient—nay, more, you render it indispensable; nay, more, you
render it uncontrollably neces‘ary—that a large portion of the Church (and,
permit me to add, a portion always conformed in their views and practices to the
Discipline), I say that by this vote you render it indispensably, ay uncontrollably,
necessary that that portion of the Church should I dread to pronounce the
word, but you understand me. Yes, sir, you create an uncontrollable necessity
that there should be a disconnection of that large portion of the Church from your
body. If you pass this action in the mildest form in which you can approach
the Bishop, you will throw every minister in the South hors du combat; you
cut us off from all connection with masters and servants, and leave us no op-
tion—God is my witness that I speak with all sincerity of purpose toward you—
but to be disconnected from your body. If such necessity exists on your part to
drive this man from his office, we reiissert that this must be the result of your e«-
tion. We have no will, no choice, in this thing.

Dr. Lovick Pierce (of Georgia), a member of the first delegated
General Conference, which met in New York in 1812, said:

 

Allow me to say, the adoption of the resolution on the ground of expediency is, in
the very nature of the case, to invert the established order of the New Testament.
In the difficulties which arose in the Church in the days of the great Apostle to
the Gentiles, he said, in reference to this point, “All things are lawful for me, but
all things are not expedient.” Shall we ask Bishop Andrew to pay this tribute
to expediency? Why, if it were lawful to demand it, and the yielding of it would
prodnce such disastrous results as must be produced, it would be inexpedient for
this body of God-fearing ministers to make any such demand. To the law and to
the testimony I feel myself bound closely to adhere. Of all notions that were ever
defended before a body of Christian ministers, the notion of asking an act of this
‘sort on the ground of expediency, when it is as inexpedient for one portion of a
united body of Christians to do this as it is expedient for the other that it should
be done, is to me the most fearful mockery of sound logic. Do that which is inex
pedient for us, because for you it is expedient! Never, while the heavens are
above the earth, let that be recorded on the journals of the General Conference
of the Methodist Episcopal Church! Do you ask us how this matter is to be met?
Tt is to be met by the conservative principle and the compromise laws of this book
of Discipline. Show your people that Bishop Andrew has violated any one of the
established rules and regulations of this Church, and you put yourselves in the
right, and us in the wrong.

40
626 History of Methodism.

 

Mr. Coleman (of Troy) “would give his vote in favor of the
resolution, but would not like to be considered an enemy of his
Southern brethren. He had opposed abolitionism from the com-
mencement. He, in connection with other Northern brethren,
had had to fight the battles of their Southern brethren. He had
expected a most peaceful Conference, supposing as he did that
the fire-brands had left their ranks last year. The South-
ern brethren.knew little of the labors of the Northern men to
secure their comfort and safety. Give them a slave-holding
bishop, and they make the whole of the North a magazine of
gunpowder, and the bishop a fire-brand in the midst.”

Mr. Stringfield (of Holston) argued: “It is inexpedient that
Bishop Andrew should resign. If the Bishop be shuffled out
of office, some one must be elected to fill his place, and such a
one, whoever he may be, will meet with as little favor in the
South as Bishop Andrew would, with all his disabilities, in the
North.”

Mr. Spencer (of Pittsburg) spoke to the point: “We hear
much concerning the constitution. The word ‘constitutional’
is repeated again and again. Here Iam ataloss. I cannot tell
what brethren mean. I suppose the constitution of our Church
to be embodied in our Articles of Religion, our Restrictive Rules,
and our General Rules. But where is it said in these that a
slave-holding Bishop must remain in office despite the Gen-
eral Conference? or that no rule can be made to touch such a
case? Nowhere. Then is it not plain that these are high-sound-
ing words used without meaning? But, sir, much is said of ex-
pediency. Well, let us look at expediency. It is alleged that it
would be a dreadful thing to pass the resolution before us, as a
matter of expediency. This is a grave subject. But is not ex-
pediency at the foundation of many grave and important sub-
jects? Mr. President, how did you and your colleagues get into
the episcopal office? Expediency put you there, expediency
keeps you there, and when expediency requires it you shall be
removod from your seats—yes, every one of you. Expediency
is the foundation of our episcopacy. Nay, more—it is the very
basis of Methodism. Bishop Andrew is a bishop of the whole
Methovlist Episcopal Church, and is in duty bound to go to any
‘part of it that its interests may require. If he cannot get rid of
‘sknvery where he is, let him go where he can.”
A Few Words from Many—Drift of Debate. 627

Dr. Bangs (of New York) said: “Now, the doctrine of expedi-
ency has been referred to. Let me give you one item of expedi-
ency that the Apostle Paul practiced: ‘If meat make my brother
to offend, I will eat no flesh while the world standeth, lest 7
make my brother to offend;’ and if Bishop Andrew had prac-
ticed that kind of expediency we should not have had the pres-
ent difficulty.”

Mr. Cass: “The New Hazapshire Conference, which I in part
represent, has solemnly protested against having a slave-holder
for a bishop. And thousands of our members have also sent
up memorials to this effect. Sir, I tell you that, in my opinion,
a slave-holder cannot sit in the episcopal chair in an Annual
Conference in New England; and if Bishop Andrew holds
his office, there will be large secessions, or whole Conferences
will leave. If this Conference does any thing less than to
declare slavery is a moral evil, we stand on a volcano at the
North.”

Dr. Green (of Tennessee): “It has been asked, Mr. President,
what harm it would do to us in the South. Well, let me tell you
what I think the effect will be. Suppose Bishop Andrew be de-
posed, and we from the South tamely submit—how could I re-
turn to my work and put my head out of the top of a pulpit and
attempt to preach? If Bishop Andrew be deposed, and the
South were to submit—that is, the preachers in the South—tu
such an unjust and extrajudicial proceeding, it would disable
the preachers in such a manner that we could not serve our peo-
ple, and it is very certain that those who deposed him could
never supply our place. There are difficulties for the North, and,
as far as I can learn, I am willing to give them every advantage
without destroying the South. If this Conference were to re-
scind the ‘Few resolution,’ we could stand that; and the decis-
ion in the Baltimore case will not destroy us quite; and I sup-
pose when we shall come to the election of bishops, that they
(having the majority) will select brethren from the non-slave-
holding Conferences. Is that not enough to intrench them from
the attacks of abolition? JI should think so. It is no small
matter with the South that none of our Southern preachers can
be elected a bishop. Yet we will not fall out with you because
you dare not elect a brother from the South, but we will never
submit to the doctrine that it shall not be done.”
628 History of Methodism.

 

The original motion was earnestly discussed for a part of two
days; but in the weakness of its long, rambling historical pream-

ble, as well as on its own merits, it seemed not to meet the exigen-
cy: then J. B. Finley and J. M. Trimble, of the Ohio Conference,
offered a substitute:

Whereas the Discipline of our Church forbids the doing any thing calculated
to destroy our itinerant general superintendency; and whereas Bishop Andrew
has become connected with slavery by marriage and otherwise; and this act hav-
ing drawn after it circumstances which, in the estimation of the General Confer-
ence, will greatly embarrass the exercise of his office as an itinerant General Su-
perintendent, if not in some places entirely prevent it: therefore,

Resolved, That it is the sense of this General Conference that he desist from the
esercise of this office so long as this impediment remains,

The debate was renewed upon this slightly altered presentation
of the case. Of the numerous and excellent speeches we may
only quote enough to indicate the drift of plea and argument.
Let us hear first, and at greater length than we can afford to oth-
ers, the eloquent man who spoke for both sides—Dr. Olin:

If there ever was a question beset with great practical difficulties, surely it is
chat under which we now groan. Yet our powers are so great as to allow us to
make some provision against them, and to some extent at least meet the wants of
the Church in this great emergency. We may do much, and we may make many
arrangements in regard to the episcopacy; but our powers are still limited and re-
stricted in two things. We cannot do away with the episcopacy; we cannot in-
fringe upon its character as a general superintendency. I believe we are all
prepared to recognize the right. of Southern brethren to hold slaves under the
provisions of the Discipline. We shall acknowledge and guarantee the en-
tire of the privileges and immunities of all parties in the Church. I here de-
clare that if a remedy should be proposed that would trench on the consti-
tutional claims of Southern ministers, I would not, to save the Church from any
possible calamity, violate this great charter of our rights. Iam glad of the op-
portunity of saying that no man who is a Methodist, and deserves a place among
us, can call in question here any rights secured by our charter. I do not say that
he may not be a very honest or a very pious man who doubts the compatibility
of slave-holding on the conditions of the Discipline, with the ministerial office;
but in this he is not a Methodist. .He may be a very good man, but a very had
Methodist; and if such a man doubts if the Church will reform, or is too impa-
tient of delay, let him—as I would in his place—do‘as our friends in New En-
gland did iast year, go to some other Church, or set np one for himself.

Not only is holding slaves, on the conditions and under the restrictions of the
Discipline, no disqualification for the ministerial office, but I will go a little far-
ther and say that slave-holding is not constitutionally a forfeiture of a man’s
right, if he may be said to have one, to the office of a bishop. The Chnrch,
spread out through all the land, will always determine for itself what are dinqual-
Dr. Olin’s Plea for Both Sides. 629

 

ifications and what are not, and it has a perfect right to determine whether slave
holding, or abolitionism, or any other fact, shall be taken into consideration in its
elections.

These: re my principles. I have never doubted with regard to them. I will
add that I can never give a vote which does violence to my sentiments in regard
to the religious aspect of the subject. I here declare that if ever I saw the graces
of the Christian ministry displayed, or its virtues developed, it has been among
slave-holders. J wish here to divest myself of what, to some, may seem an ad-
vantage that does not belong to me. I will not conceal—I avow that I was «
slave-holder and a minister at the South, and I never dreamed that my right to
the ministry was questionable, or that in the sight of God I was less fitted to
preach the gospel on that account. And if the state of my health had not driven
me away from that region, I should probably have been a slave-holder to this day.
In this day of reform and manifold suggestions I go farther, and say that, if by a
vote of this General Conference you might call in question the right of our South-
ern brethren to the ministry, and make their claim to the sacred office dependent
on their giving immediate freedom to their slaves, I do not think that that would
be a blessing to the slaves or to the Church. I do not believe the slave fares
worse for having a Christian master, and I think the preachers may have more of
public confidence on our present plan. I know these opinions may by some be
regarded as unsound; and I make them not because they have any special value
or novelty, but because I profess to speak my sentiments freely.

With regard to the particular case before us, I feel constrained to make one or
two remarks. If ever there was a man worthy to fill the episcopal office by his
disinterestedness, his love of the Church, his ardent, melting sympathy for all the
interests of humanity, but above all for his uncompromising and unreserved advo-
cacy of the interest of the slave—if these are qualifications for the office of a bishop,
then James O. Andrew is preéminently fitted to hold that office, I know him well.
He was the friend of my youth; and although by his experience and his position
fitted to be a father, yet he made me a brother, and no man has more fully shared
my sympathies, or more intimately known my heart, for these twenty years. His
house has been my home, on his bed have I lain in sickness, and he, with his
sainted wife now in heaven, has been my comforter and nurse. No question un-
der heaven could have presented itself so painfully oppressive to my feelings as
the one now before us. If I had a hundred votes, and Bishop Andrew were not
pressed by the difficulties which now rest upon him, without any wrong intention
on his part, I am sure, he is the man to whom I would give them all. I know no
man who has been so bold an advocate for the interest of the slaves; and when I
have been constrained to refrain from saying what perhaps I should have said, I
have heard him at camp-meetings, and on other public occasions, call fearlessly on
masters to see to the spiritual and temporal interests of their slaves as a high Chris-
tian duty. Excepting one honored brother, whose name will hereafter be recorded
as one of the greatest benefactors of the African race, I know of no man who has
done so much for the slave as Bishop Andrew.

It will be readily inferred, from what I have said, that if we cannot act with-
out calling in question the rights of the Southern brethren, we had better, in my
opinion, not act at all; for I believe it-would be better to submit to the greatest
aalamities than infringe upon our own constitution. Yet it seems to me that we
630 History of Methodism.

 

are not shut up to such a disastrous course, and that we may so dispose of this case
as to escape both these diffiqulties. We cannot punish. I would not vote for any
resolution that would even censure; and yet, with the powers that confessedly be
long to the General Conference, I trust some measure may be adopted that may
greatly palliate and diminish, if it cannot wholly avert, the dangers thai threaten
us. The substitute now proposed I regard as such a measure. In it this General
Conference expresses its wish and will that, under existing circumstances— mean-
ing by that word not merely the fact that Bishop Andrew has become a slave-
holder, but the state of the Church, the sentiments that prevail—the excitement,
and the deep feeling of the people on the subject; feeling, it may be, which dis
qualifies them for calm, dispassionate views in the premises; that under these cir-
cumstances, it is the wish and the will of the brethren of this Conference that
Bishop Andrew, against whom we bring no charge, on whose fair character we ix
no reproach, should, for the present, refrain from the exercise of his episcopal
functions. This resolution proposes no punishment; it does not censure. It
expresses no opinion of the Bishop’s conduct. It only seeks to avert disastrous
results by the exercise of the conservative, of the self-preserving powers of this
Conference.

I know the difficulties of the South. I know the excitement that is likely to
prevail among the people there. Yet allowing our worst fears all to be realized,
the South will have this advantage over us—the Southern Conferences are likely,
in any event, to harmonize among themselves; they will form a compact body.
In our Northern Conferences this will be impossible in the present state of things.
They cannot bring their whole people to act together on one common ground.
Stations and circuits will be so weakened and broken as in many instances to be
unable to sustain their ministry. I speak on this point in accordance with the
conviction of my own judgment, after having traveled three thousand miles:
through the New England and New York Conferences, that if some action is not
had on this subject calculated to hold out hope—to impart a measure of satisfac
tion to the people—there will be distractions and divisions ruinous to souls, and
fatal to the permanent interests of the Church.

I feel, sir, that if this great difficulty shall result in separation from our South
ern brethren, we lose not our right-hand merely, but our very heart’s blood. Over
such an event I should not cease to pour out my prayers and tears as over a griev-
ous and unmitigated calamity. It was in that part of our Zion that God, for
Christ’s sake, converted my soul. There I first entered on the Christian ministry.
From thence came the beloved, honored brethren who now surround me, with
whom and among whom I have labored and suffered and rejoiced, and seen the
doings of the right-hand of the Son of God. If the day shall come when we must
be separated by lines of demarkation, I shall yet think often of those beyond with
the kindest, warmest feelings of an honest Christian heart. But, sir, I will yet
trust that we may put far off this evil day. If we can pass such a measure as will
shield our principles from all infringement; if we can send forth such a measure
as will neither injure nor justly offend the South, as shall neither censure nor
dishonor Bishop Andrew, and yet shall meet the pressing wants of the Church,
and above all, if Almighty God shall be pleased to help by pouring out his
Spirit upon us, we may yet avoid the rock on which we now seem but too likely
to split.
The Croton River Argument. 631

 

A remarkable speech was that by Dr. Hamline, of Ohio—deft-
-y dovetailed and eloquently spoken; his opponents found it no
vasy task to nicely unravel, and in detail to answer, the points
of this speech, admirable for its literary finish and temper.* He
admitted that the argument from “expediency” was out of place
if the act was unconstitutional; it was never expedient to violate
law. He considered this a mandamus measure. It wrought a
suspension or deposition for “improper conduct;” “a summary
removal from office,” not from the ministry, until the cause was
removed. The General Conference, according to his view, be-
yond certain restrictions, few and simple, has supreme leg-
islative, judicial, and executive power. They could not “do away
episcopacy ”’—one of the Restrictive Rules forbids that; but they
could do as they pleased with an episcopos. A pastor, or pre-
siding elder, or steward, or class-leader, may be removed from
a higher to a lower office, or from office altogether, by a supe-
rior, without notice, trial, or cause assigned. All ranks of of-
ficers are subjected to summary removals from office for any
thing unfitting for that office; so a bishop may be deposed from
office summarily, and for improprieties which, if even innocent
in themselves, hinder his usefulness. No statutory law was
needed for this; and if any statutory law stood in their way, they
could set it aside—such was their supremacy.

Without entering into the details of this argument, Drs. Smith
and Winans struck at the substance of it as utterly subversive
of the rights of the minority, and as nullifying one of the coGr-
dinate branches of the Church government. A General Con-
ference, acting in a judicial or other capacity, is bound to pro-
ceed by its own laws, and to observe its own statutes, until prop-
erly altered; as much so as an inferior judicatory. Whoever
claims protection according to those statutory laws is constitu-
tionally entitled to it; otherwise a majority, doing its own will, is
an unbearable tyranny. The case under consideration, they main-
tained, was specifically covered and protected by laws and statutes
which had stood since 1816, and been reiterated, and had so kept
the peace between the two sections of the Church that the sacred-
ness of a compromise attached to them.

 

*'The analysis is well presented in an able discussion: “The Disruption of tha
Methodist Episcopal Church, 1844-1846; comprising a thirty years’ history of
the relations of the two Methodisms,” by Ed. H. Myers, D.D.; 12mo, pages 216.
632 History of Methodism.

 

The extreme position on episcopacy which the majority took,*
in order to justify a course that was felt to be necessary, is thus
met in the protest of the minority, presented after the vote:

As the Methodist Episcopal Church is now organized, and according to its or-
ganization since 1784, the episcopacy is a codrdinate branch, the executive depart-
ment proper of the government. A bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church is
not a n ere creature, is in no prominent sense an officer, of the General Conference
The bishops are, beyond a doubt, an integral constituent part of the General Con-
ference, made such by law and the constitution; and because elected by the Gen-
eral Conference, it does not follow that they are subject to the will of that body
except in conformity with legal right and the provisions of law in the premises.
In this sense, and so viewed, they are subject to the General Conference, and this
is sufficient limitation of their power, unless the government itself is to be consid-
ered irregulay and unbalanced in the codrdinate relations of its parts. In a sense
by no means inimportant the General Conference is as’ much the creature of the
episcopacy as the bishops are the creatures of the General Conference. As exec-
utive officers, as well as pastoral overseers, they belong to the Church as such, and
not to the General Conference as one of its organs of action merely.

Because bishops are in part constituted by the General Conference, the power
of removal does not follow. Episcopacy, even in the Methodist Church, is not a
mere appointment to labor. It is an official consecrated station under the protec-
tion of law, and can only be dangerous as the law is bad or the Church corrupt.
The power to appoint does not necessarily involve the power to remove; and when
the appointing power is derivative—as in the case of the General Conference—the
power cof removal does not accrue at all, unless by consent of the coérdinate
branches of the government, expressed by law made and provided in the case.
When the Legislature of a State—-to appeal to analogy for illustration—ap-
points a judge or senator in Congress, does the judge or senator thereby become
the officer or creature of the Legislature, or is he the officer or senatorial repre-
sentative of the State, of which the Legislature isthe mere organ? And does the
power of removal follow that of appointment? The answer is negative in both
cases, and applies equally to the bishops of the Methodist Episcopal Church, who,
instead of being the officers and creatures of the General Conference, are ae Sacto
the officers and servants of the Church; and no right of removal accrues, except
in accordance with the provisions of law. But when a bishop is suspended, or in-
formed that it is the wish or will of the General Conference that he cease to per-
form the functions of bishop, for doing what the law of the same body allows him
to do, and of course without incurring the hazard of punishment, or even blame,
then the whole procedure becomes an outrage upon justice, as well as upon law.

 

* Dr. Myers, on the “ Disruption,” says: ‘‘ The historical ‘development of our episcopacy
will prove that the bishops are not ‘creatures’ of the General Conference, and consequentiy
matable functionaries of that body, removable at will, without charge or trial. The Methodist
spiscopal Church—much less its General Conference—never created its episcopacy. On the
contrary, the episcopacy organized, and gave ecclesiastical vitality to, a number of ‘ Societies,
and constituted them into the Methodist Episcopal Church. In 1788 Mr. Wesley’s name wag
inserted at the head of our Minutes as the fonntain of our episcopal office. Methodism dia
not exist in organic Church-form prior to 1784, and its bishops existed before it, and reaeed
it to that form.” (Myers on the Disruption, page 73.)
Bishop Soule’s Remarks. 633

 

Before debate closed, Bishop Soule addressed the Conference,
As a preliminary, he read a portion of the Episcopal Address of
1840, alluding to similar agitations:

But can we, as ministers of the gospel, and servants of a Master “whose king-
dom is not of this world,” promote these important objects in any way so tauly
and permanently as by pursuing the course just pointed out? Can we, at this
eventful crisis, render a better service to our country than by laying aside al in-
terference with relations authorized and established by the civil laws, and apply-
ing ourselves wholly and faithfully to what specially appertains to our “high and
holy calling,” to teach and enforce the moral obligations of the gospel, in appli-
cation to all the duties growing out of the different relations in society? By a
diligent devotion to this evangelical employment, with a humble and steadfast
reliance upon the aid of Divine influence, the number of “believing masters” and
servants may be constantly increased, the kindest sentiments and affections custi-
vated, domestic burdens lightened, mutual confidence cherished, and the peuce
and happiness of society be promoted. While, on the other hand, if past hiwory
affords us any correct rules of judgment, there is much cause to fear that the in-
Auence of our sacred office, if employed in interference with the relation rwelf,
and consequently with the civil institutions of the country, will rather teud to
prevent than to accomplish these desirable ends.

“Sir,” said he, “I have read this extract that the members of
this General Conference who were not present at the last session,
and this listening assembly, who may not have heard it before,
may understand distinctly the ground on which I, with my col-
leagues, stand in regard to these questions. The only subject
which has awakened my sympathies during this whole discus-
sion is the condition of my suffering brethren of the colored
race, and this never fails to do it. No matter where I meet the
man of color, whether in the South or in the North, with the
amount of liberty he enjoys, the sympathies of my nature are
all awakened for him. Could I restore bleeding Africa to free-
dom, to independence, to the rights—to all the rights—of man,
I would most gladly do it. But this I cannot do—you cannot
do. And if I cannot burst the bonds of the colored man, I will
not strengthen them. If I cannot extend to him all the good I
would, I will never shut him out from the benefits which I have
it in my power to bestow.” He addressed himself to the main
point—the ground assumed alike by the supporters of the orig-
inal resolution and of the substitute:

I wish to say explicitly that if the Superintendents are only to be regarded as
the officers of the General Conference, liable to be deposed at will by a simple
majority of this body without a form of trial, no obligation existing, growing out
of the constitution and laws of the Church, even to assign cause wherefore—every
634 History of Methodism.

 

thing I have to say hereafter is powerless and falls to the ground. But, strange as
it may seem, although I have had the privilege to be a member of the General
Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church ever since its present organization;
though I was honored with a seat in the convention of ministers which organized
it, I have heard for the first time, either on the floor of this Conference, in an
Annual Conference, or through the whole of the private membership of the
Church, this doctrine advanced; this is the first time I ever heard. it. I desire to
understand my landmarks as a Bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church—not
the Bishop of the General Conference, not the Bishop of any Annual Conference.
L thought that the constitution of the Chur ch, the solemn vows of ordination, the
parchment which I hold under the signatures of the departed dead—I thought
that these Jefined my landmarks; I thought that these had prescribed my duties.
Whether this Conference is to sustain the position on which I have acted, or not,
they are very soon to settle in the vote which is before them; I mean, they are to
settle this question, whether it is the right of this body to depose a Bishop of the
Methodist Episcopal Church—to depose my colleague, to depose me—without a
form of trial. See ye to that. Without specification of wrong, and by almost
universal acclamation that Bishop Andrew has been unblamable in his Christian
character; that he has discharged the duties of his sacred office with integrity,
with usefulness, and in good faith—with this declaration before the world, will
this Conference occupy this position: that they have power, authority, to depose
Bishop Andrew, without a form of trial, without charge, and without being once
called on to answer for himself in the premises (what he did say was voluntary)?

Well, brethren, I had understood from the beginning that special provision
was made for the trial of a bishop. The constitution has provided that no
preacher was to be deprived of the right of trial, and of the right of appeal; but,
sir, if I understand the doctrine advanced and vindicated, it is that you may de-
pose a bishop without the form of trial; you may depose him without any obli-
gation to show cause. It seems to me that the Church has made special provision
for the trial of the Bishop, for the special reason that he has no appeal. I do not
hesitate to say to you that if the relation in which I have been placed to the
Methodist Episcopal Church, under solemn vows of ordination, is to stand on the
voice of a simple majority of this body, without a form of trial, I have some doubt
whether there is the man on this floor who would be willing to stand in my place.
You may immolate me, but you cannot immolate me on a Southern altar; you
cannot immolate me on a Northern altar; I can only be immolated on the altar
of the union of the Methodist Episcopal Church. What do I mean by this? I
mean —call it a compact, call it compromise, constitution, Discipline, what you
will—-I mean on the doctrines and provisions of this book, and I consider this as
the bond of union of the Methodist Episcopal Church. Here, then, I plant my
feet, and here I stand. I hold that the General Conference has an indisputable
right to arraign at her tribunal every Bishop; to try us there; to find us guilty of
any offense with which we are charged on evidence, and to excommunicate—ex-
pel us. I am always ready to appear before that body in this regard. I recog-
nize fully their right. But not for myself, not for these men on my right-hand
and on my left-hand, but for the Church of God, let me entreat you not to rsh
apon the resolution which is now before you. Posterity, sir, will review you w-
tions; history will record them.
The Last Plan of Peace Fatls. 635

 

Bishop Soule’s remarks, emphasized by the tone and pres-
ence and prestige of the speaker, produced a profound effect on
the members. They remembered that at the age of twenty-seven
he had drafted the constitution; he had served under it, under-
stood ‘it, loved it. When ona former occasion that instrument
was in peril he, more than any other man living, saved it; and
now again, in old age, he rose erect to its defense. But times
had changed. Priam’s dart was hurled with the ancient forée,
and hit the mark; but a strange foe confronted him. Some
who were present have told how the ranks of the majority
fell back and were broken; nor did they rally until John P.
Durbin took the floor. He argued concerning the episcopacy:
“Whence, then, is it derived? Solely, sir, from the suffrages
of the General Conference. There, and there only, is the
source of episcopal power in our Church. And the same pow-
er that conferred the authority can remove it.’ With that
weird power of speech of which he was master, he gathered
up and re-presented the pleas already made for the action
invoked, and restored the lines of the prosecution. It was a
noble and unique contest. For the South stood up the veteran
from Maine, backed by the minority, pleading for the constitu-
tion: for the North, the son of Kentucky, with the majority at
his back.

On May 80, when nearing a vote, the Conference was re-
quested by Bishop Hedding “to hold no afternoon session, and
thus allow the Bishops to consult together, with a hope that
they might be able to present a plan of adjusting our present
difficulties.” “The suggestion,” says the journal, “was received
with general and great cordiality.”

May 31, the Bishops submitted a paper containing their plan.
Convinced that ‘disastrous results are the almost inevitable con-
sequences of present action on the question now pending,” they
unanimously recommend the postponement of further action
until the next General Conference, when the mind of the whole
Church, ministers and people, can be known. Meantime Bishop
Andrew can be fully employed where “his presence and services
would be welcome and cordial.” The next day was fixed for its
consideration, when Bishop Hedding withdrew his name from the
paper. He had signed it “because he thought it would be a peace
measure, but facts had come to his knowledge since which led him
636 History of Methodism.

 

to believe that such would not be the case.” The “facts” were
not published until twenty-five years later. Here was the last
hope of continued unity. The South supported it to a man,
and not a few conservatives of the Middle and Northern Con-
ferences; and all his colleagues stood firmly by it, but Bishop
Hedding’s unaccountable defection so weakened the measure
that a motion to lay it on the table prevailed by a vote of 95 to
84.- The Conference soon after came to a vote on Finley’s sub-
stitute, and it was adopted by 111 yeas to 69 nays. Notice was
given of a protest by the minority, which, in a few days, was
spread upon the Journal; and this was followed by a “state-
ment of the case,” or a reply, by the majority.

June 5th, Dr. Longstreet offered what is known as the “De-
claration of the Southern Delegates,” which was signed by all
the delegates (fifty-one) of the slave-holding Conferences, except
one from Texas. This paper reads:

The delegates of the Conferences in the slave-holding States take leave to de-
clare to the General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church that the con-
tinued agitation on the subject of slavery and abolition in a portion of the Church,
and the frequent:action on that subject in the General Conference, and especially
the extrajudicial proceedings against Bishop Andrew, which resulted, on Saturday
last, in the virtual suspension of him from his office as Superintendent, must pro-
duce a state of things in the South which renders a continuance.of the jurisdiction
of this General Conference over these Conferences inconsistent with the success of
the ministry in the slave-holding States.

The communication was referred to a committee of nine—
Robert Paine, Glezen Filmore, Peter Akers, Nathan Bangs,
Thomas Crowder, Thomas B. Sargent, William Winans, Leon-
idas L. Hamline, James Porter.

 

*In the Methodist Quarterly Review (April, 1871) Rev. James Porter, a New
England delegate, and one of the actors, gives a history of the affair: “The abo-
litionists regarded this [the proposed council of Bishops].as a most alarming meas-
ure. Accordingly, the delegates of the New England Conferences were immedi-
ately called together, and after due deliberation unanimously signed a paper de-
elaring in substance that it was their solemn conviction that if Bishop Andrew
should be left by the General Conference in the exercise of episcopal functions, it
would break up most of the New England Conferences; and that the only way to
be holden together would be to secede in a body, and invite Bishop Hedding to
preside over them.” He could not be seen and informed of this action before the
Bishops met;.and as the threatening secessionists were afraid (so they say) to call
him out of the council—believing that it could be construed and used in a way
to defeat their object—he could not be dissuaded from signing the recommenda-
tion offered on the following day; but they interviewed him in time to defeat it
The Plan of Separation. 637

 

On motion of J. B. McFerrin) (of Tennessee), seconded by a
member of the aioe Uontomends” -ienoleed, That the committee
appointed to take into consideration the communication of the
delegates from the Southern Conferences be instructed, provided
they cannot in their judgment devise a plan for an amicable ad-
justment of the difficulties now existing in the Church on the
subject of slavery, to devise, if possible, a constitutional plaz
for a mutual and friendly division of the Church.”

The Plan of Separation, as it is called, was’adopted June 8th.
Robert Paine, chairman of the select committee of nine having
reported it, Dr. Elliot (of Cincinnati) moved its adoption:

He had had the opportunity of examining it, and had done so carefully. He
believed it would insure the purposes designed, and would be for the best interests
of the Church. It was his firm opinion that this was a proper course for them to
pursue, in conformity with the Scriptures and the best analogies they could col-
lect from the ancient Churches, as well as from the best organized modern Church-
es. All history did not furnish an example of so large a body of Christians re-
maining in such close and unbroken connection as the Methodist Episcopal Church.
It is now found necessary to separate this large body, for it was becoming un-
wieldy. He referred to the Churches at Antioch, Alexandria, and Jerusalem,
which, though they continued as one, were at least as distinct as the Methodist
Episcopal Church would be if the suggested separation took place. The Church
of England was one under the Bishops of Canterbury and York, connected and
yet distinct. In his own mind it had been for years perfectly clear that to this
conclusion they must eventually come. Were the question that now unhappily
agitated the body dead and buried, there would be good reason for passing the res-
olutions contained in that report. As to their representation in that General
Conference, one out of twenty was but a meager representation, and to go on as
they had done it would soon be one out of thirty: And the body was now too
large to do business advantageously. The measure contemplated was not schism,
but separation for their mutal convenience and prosperity.

Dr. Bangs explained the composition of the committee, as
formed by three from the South, three from the Middle States,
and three from the North. “They were also instructed by a res-
olution of the Conference how to act in the premises; that if
they could not adjust the difficulties amicably they were to pro-
vide for separation, if they could do so constitutionally; and aft-
er two days of close labor, after minute inspection and revisior. of
every sentence, they had presented their report, from which the
Conference would see that they had at least obeyed their instruc-
tions, and had met the constitutional difficulty by sending round
to the Annual Conferences that portion of the report which re-
quired i concurrence.”

2
638 History of Methodism.

 

The preamble and first two resolutions are in these words:

Whereas a declaration has been presented to this General Conference, with the
signatures of fifty-one delegates of the body, from thirteen Annual Conferences in
the slave-holding States, representing that, for various reasons enumerated, the
objects and purposes of the Christian ministry and Church organization cannot be
successfully accomplished by them under the jurisdiction of this General Confer-
ence as now constituted; and whereas, in the event of a separation, a contingency
to which the declaration asks attention as not improbable, we esteem it the duty
of this General Conference to meet the emergency with Christian kindness and
the strictest equity: therefore,

1. Resolved, by the delegates of the several Annual Conferences in General Con-
ference assembled, That should the Annual Conferences in the slave-holding States
find it necessary to unite in a distinct ecclesiastical connection, the following
rule shall be observed with regard to the northern boundary of such connection:
All the societies, stations, and Conferences, adhering to the Church in the South
by a vote of a majority of the members of said societies, stations, and Conferences
shall remain under the unmolested pastoral care of the Southern Church; and the
ministers of the Methodist Episcopal Church shall in nowise attempt to organize
ehurches or societies within the limits of the Church South, nor shall they attemp.
to exercise any pastoral oversight therein; it being understood that the ministry
of the South reciprocally observe the same rule in relation to stations, societies, and
Conferences adhering, by vote of a majority, to the Methodist Episcopal Church;
provided, also, that this rule shall apply only to societies, stations, and Confer-
ences bordering on the line of division, and not to interior charges, which shall in
all cases be left to the care of that Church within whose territory they are situated.

2. Resolved, That ministers, local and traveling, of every grade and office in the
Methodist Episcopal Church, may, as they prefer, remain in that Church, or, with-
out blame, attach themselves to the Churcli, South.

The first resolution was adopted by yeas 135, nays 18; the sec
ond by yeas 139, nays 17. It was also provided: “That all the
property of the Methodist Episcopal Church in meeting-houses
parsonages, colleges, schools, Conference funds, cemeteries, and
of every kind, within the limits of the Southern organization
shall be forever free from any claim set up on the part of the
Methodist Episcopal Church, so far as this resolution can be of
force in the premises.”

The turning over to the proper agents of the Church, South
(should one be formed), an equitable share of the common prop-
erty at New York and Cincinnati, and of the Chartered Fund,
was arranged for, and a common right to use all copyrights that
had been secured before separation. Commissioners were named,
and the order and manner of payment planned; and nothing was
left undone that could be foreseen for an equitable settlement
and an amicable separation.
The Last Service. 639

 

Apprehending some legal difficulty in dividing the Book Con-
cern property, which is guarded by a Restrictive Rule, it was
formally resolved “that we recommend to all the Annual Con-
ferences, at their first approaching sessions, to authorize a
change of the sixth Restrictive Article, so that the full clause
shall read thus: They shall not appropriate the produce of the
Book Concern, nor of the Chartered Fund, to any purpose other
than for the benefit of the traveling, supernumerary, superannu-
ated, and worn-out preachers, their wives, widows, and children,
and to such other purposes as may be determined upon by the votes
of two-thirds of the members of the General Conference.” This was
adopted, yeas 146, nays 10. The change proposed was to add
what is above italicized. This resolution, having thus received
a two-thirds majority of the General Conference, was already an
enacted change of the Restrictive Article, so soon as concurred
in by three-fourths of the voters in the Annual Conferences.
The final resolution requested the Bishops to lay this resolution
before the Annuai Conferences as soon as possible.

Two bishops were to be elected, and the last service of the
conservative South to the yet undivided Church was rendered
here. The elements that united in the choice of Leonidas L.
Hamline will readily occur to the reader; but the Southern dele-
gates brought forward and concentrated on Edmund 8. Janes.
As one of the secretaries of the American Bible Society he had
become known to them, and none could know him without per-
ceiving his great worth and abilities. On the last day of this
stormy session the ordination took place, presided over by the
senior bishop. The journal says: “Brother Hamline was pre-
sented by brothers Pickering and Filmore, and Brother Janes
by brothers Pierce and Capers.”

The South asked for no new law or interpretation of law; their
attitude from beginning to’ end was: “If Bishop Andrew has
broken any law, moral or canonical, let.him be put on his de-
fense; bring a charge, specification, proof, and make up a verdict
accordingly.” But it better suited the majority to treat the case
by preamble and resolution.

None were more unprepared for the turn things took in the
General Conference of 1844 than the person most concerned.
First by bequest, and then by inheritance, he had been connected
with slavery for years; and his last connection (by marriage)
640 History of Methodism.

 

was the mildest of all. Possibly, in some parts of New England,
he thought, there might be a flutter; but Methodists were used
to that. How surprised, then, was he to find the North and the
South arrayed over the matter! So great and rapid had been
the change in the temper of the times. For peace’s sake he was
ready to resign; but when he saw himself a representative man,
and that his brethren must stand or fall with him, resignation
was out of the question, and the final issue was joined on his
case.

From the gallery of Green Street Church, the redoubtable
Orange Scott looked down upon a strange scene—he saw men
valiantly fighting his battles who had once fought him. The few
original abolitionists in the Conference kept quiet. They had
put the laboring oar into the hands of the so-called conservatives,
who were succumbing to the so-called spirit of the age.

The time to work apart had come. The situation was unman-
ageable, and every year, on account of certain growing secular
influences, it was becoming worse. For this a large proportion
of the Northern delegates were not to be blamed; they had done
what they could, but had failed to keep their section of the
Church free from the encroachments of “modern abolitionism.”
Necessity was upon them. It was a life and death issue, and
having a majority they felt they had a right to live. Now,
having saved themselves, they were disposed to do all in their
power to relieve those who had been driven to the wall, standing
on the “Discipline as it is.’ The Plan of Separation, as con-
ceived and agreed on, was honorable to both parties; it was a
healing measure, a fitting farewell to the fifteenth General Con-
ference of united Episcopal Methodism, and the last.
y

 
CHAPTER XLIV.

fhe Louisville Convention—First General Conference—Book Agency—New
Hymn-book—Bishops Capers and Paine—Troubles with the Plan in the North
—Fraternal Delegate and Business Commissioners—Rejected—A ppealing Unto
Cesar—Supreme Court Declares the Plan of Separation Valid, and Enforces it
—Southern Methodist Publishing House—Separation—Peace—Prosperity.
T midnight, June 10th, the General Conference adjourned;
next ¢ xy the Southern delegates met, before leaving for
home, and dc ‘iberated on what was best to be done. Letters and
newspapers received from the South indicated great excitement.
To prevent undue haste in action, and to forestall divided coun-
sels, the delegates suggested to their constituents that nothing
be done till all the Conferences represented could meet in a gen-
eral convention, and “submitted” to their “consideration” that
May 1, 1845, would be a suitable time, and Louisville, Kentucky,
a fit place, for such a convention; and that their delegates—chos-
en in a certain ratio—be instructed “on the points on which ac-
tion is contemplated;” the instructions conforming, as far as pos-
sible, “to the opinions and wishes of the members of the Church.”
They also issued a brief “Address to the Ministers and Mem-
bers” of their Conferences, conveying authentic information of
the provisional Plan of Separation, under which relief in a reg-
ular way could be obtained from Northern jurisdiction, if they
judged it necessary. “It affords us pleasure,” they say, “to
state that there were those found among the majority who met
this proposition with every manifestation of justice and liberal-
ity; and should a similar spirit be exhibited by the Annual Con-
ferences in the North,” -when an opportunity to manifest justice
and liberality is submitted to them by a vote on the Restrictive
Article, as provided for in the Plan itself, “there will remain no
legal impediment to its peaceful consummation.”
They deprecated all excitement, and advised that the question
be approached and disposed of with candor and forbearance.
This wise prevision was of great worth. Southern Methodism,
though excited within and pressed upon from without, was kept
together and found expression of feeling and purpose in regu-
lar methods. Not only Quarterly and Annual Conferences spoke

out, but stations and circuits met and considered the matter
4l ‘BAl)
642 History of Methodism.

 

Says one who took part in these proceedings, and had oppor-
tunity of wide observation: “Those who will take the trouble to
read the utterances of these Conferences will find that the history
of the world does not offer a parallel to the unanimity of ‘senti-
ment, thought, and purpose, which they exltibited on a subject
of so momentous consequence. Their course was taken reluc-
tantly, sadly, but firmly, for the glory of God.” *

May 1, 1845, a convention of delegates from Confen-nces in
the slave-holding States met in Louisville, Kentucky, and con-
tinued through twenty days. A Committee on Organization was
appointed to canvass the acts of the several Annual Conferences;
to consider the propriety and the necessity of a Southern organ-
ization, according to the “Plan of Separation;” and also to in-
quire if any thing had taken place during the year to render it
possible to maintain the unity of Methodism under one General
Conference jurisdiction, without the ruin of Southern Methodism.

On the 15th of May this committee reported these conclusions:
That the General Conference of 1844 gave full and exclusive
authority to “the Annual Conferences in the slave-holding
States” to decide upon the necessity of organizing a separate
ecclesiastical Connection in the South; that sixteen such Con-
ferences were here represented; that it is in evidence that the
ministry and membership in the South—nearly five hundred
thousand—in the proportion of about ninety-five in the hundred,
deem a division of jurisdiction indispensable; that unless this is
effected, about a million of slaves, now hearing the gospel from
our ministers, will be withdrawn from their care; and that,
while thus taking their position, the Southern Conferences are
ready and most willing to treat with the Northern division of the
Church at any time, in view of adjusting the difficulties of this
controversy upon terms and principles that may be satisfactory
to both. And then these delegates did solemnly declare the ju-
risdiction hitherto exercised over the Annual Conferences repre-
sented in the convention, by the General Conference of the Meth-
odlist Episcopal Church, entirely dissolved; and that said Annual
Conferences “are hereby constituted a separate ecclesiastical
Connection,” based upon the Discipline of the Methodiss Hpis-
vopal Church, “and comprehending the doctrines and eutire mor-
al, ecclesiastical, aud economical rules and regulations of said

 

* Dr. Myers, on the Disruption of the Methodist Episcopal Church.
First General Conference. 643

 

Discipline, except only in so far as verbal alterations may be
necessary to a distinct organization, and to be known by the style
and title of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South.”

The First General Conference met in Petersburg, May 1 1846.
The body numbered eighty-seven members. On the first day
Rev. John Early presided, until the arrival of Bishop Andrew.
On the second day the senior Superintendent of American Meth-
ndism formally announced his adherence:

PeTErspurG, May 2, 1846.

Reverend and Dear Brethren: I consider your body, as now organized, the con-
sammation of the organization of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, in con-
formity to the “Plan of Separation,” adopted by the General Conference of the
Methodist Episcopal Church, in 1844. It is therefore in strict agreement with
the provisions of that body that you are vested with full power to transact all
business appropriate to a Methodist General Conference.

I view this organization as having been commenced in the “Declaration” of
the delegates of the Conferences in the slave-holding States, made at New York,
in 1844; and as having advanced in its several stages in the “ Protest,” the “Plan
of Separation,” the appointment of delegates to the Louisville convention, in the
action of that body, in the subsequent action of the Annual Conferences, approv-
ing the acts of their delegates at the convention, and in the appointment of dele-
gates to this General Conference.

The organization of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, being thus com-
pleted in the organization of the General Conference with a constitutional presi-
dent, the time has arrived when it is proper for me to announce my position.
Sustaining no relation to one Annual Conference which I did not sustain to every
other, and considering the General Conference as the proper judicatory to which
my communication should be made, I have declined making this announcement
until the present time. And now, acting with strict regard to the Plan of Sepa-
ration, and under a solemn conviction of duty, I formally declare my adherence
to the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. And if the Conference receive me in
my present relation to the Church, I am ready to serve them according to the best
of my ability. In conclusion, I indulge the joyful assurance that although sepa-
rated from our Northern brethren by a distinct Conference jurisdiction, we shal!
never cease to treat them as “brethren beloved,” and cultivate those principles
and affections which constitute the essential unity of the Church of Christ.

JosHua SouLE.

On motion of Benjamin M. Drake it was unanimously resolved,
by a rising vote, that Bishop Soule be received as one of the
Bishops of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South.

At first it was resolved to have a Book Concern in two divis-
ions—one in Richmond and one in Louisville; but this arrange-
ment gave place to another better suited to the times: “That an
agent be appointed, whose duty it shall be to provide for the
644 History of Methodism.

 

supply of books, by contracting where they can be obtained by
him on the best terms; and that he shall cause such‘books to be
deposited at Louisville, Charleston, and Richmond, subject to
the orders of the itinerant preachers in the Methodist Episcopal
Church, South.” John Early was elected Agent, and the editors
of the Christian Advocates at Charleston, Richmond, and Louis-
ville were made his assistants, and subject to his direction in
depository matters. A Quarterly Review was ordered to be pub.
lished at Louisville, Dr. Bascom editor. A constitution for a
Church Missionary Society was agreed on, and the Bishops were
authorized to enter. the foreign field by appointing two mission-
aries to China.* HE. W. Sehon having declined, Edward Steven-
son was elected Missionary Secretary. To Thomas O. Summers
was assigned the editorship of the proposed Sunday-school paper,
and the principal labor of preparing a revised edition of the
Hymn-book. It was ordered that three commissioners be ap-
pointed in accordance with the “Plan of Separation,” to act in
concert with the commissioners appointed for the other Church,
“concerning our interest in the Book Concern.” By ballot H. B.
Bascom, A. L. P. Green, and 8. A. Latta were elected such com-
missioners, and they were instructed to notify the commissioners
and Book Agents at New York and Cincinnati of their appoint-
ment, and of their readiness to settle; and should no settlement
be effected before 1848, said commissioners shall have author-
ity “to attend the General Conference of the Methodist Episco-
pal Church, to settle and adjust all questions involving property
or funds, which may be pending between the Methodist Episco-
pal.Church and the Methodist Episcopal Church, South; and
should the commissioners appointed by this General Conference,
after proper effort, fail to effect a settlement as above, then they
are authorized to take such measures as may best secure the just
and equitable claims of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South,
to the property and funds aforesaid.”

May 7th, on the second balloting, Dr. William Capers and Dr

*At the next General Conference the Episcopal Address announced the aproint-
ment and the arrival out of “the Revs, Charles Taylor, M.D., and Benjamin Jen-
kins, of the South Carolina Conference, to that empire. On looking over the whole
field open to us in that far-off region, it was judged that the city of Shanghai
presented the most favorable point at which to commence operations; accord-
ingly, your missionaries were directed to make that their field of labor, till they
should be otherwise instructed.”

 
Bishops Capers and Paine. 645

 

Robert Paine were duly elected bishops, and on May 14 they
were ordained by Bishops Soule and Andrew, assisted by Dr.
Lovick Pierce and Rev. John Early.

The Conference adjourned May 23, but not without taking this
action: “Resolved, by a rising and unanimous vote, That Dr. Lov-
ick Pierce be, and is hereby, delegated to visit the General Con-
fereuce of the Methodist Episcopal Church, to be held in Pitts-
burg, May 1, 1848, to tender to that body the Christian regards
and fraternal salutations of the General Conference of the
Methodist Episcopal Church, South.”

It was suggested by some to expunge or to qualify the old
section of the Discipline on slavery, but the Conference was sat-
isfied to reiffirm the deliverances of 1836 and of 1840 as the true
aud proper exposition of that section. The Pastoral Address
congratulates the Church:

The changes in the Discipline, if such they can be called, are as few and
unimportant as the fact and circumstance of a separate ecclesiastical jurisdiction
would permit. No recognized principle of the Methodism of our fathers has
been in any way affected by these changes. All the doctrines, duties, and usages
—the entire creed and ritual of the Church before the separation, remain with-
out change of any kind. And when we reflect that during no period of its his-
tory has Methodism been the result of preéxisting plans and arrangements,
but always and everywhere a system of moral agency, within the limits of
Scripture authority and precedent, adapting itself, in mere matters of form
and modes of operation, to the suggestive force of circumstances and the ex-
igence of the times, it is indeed matter not less of gratitude than surprise that
God, in the gracious, and we believe special, providence extended to us, has
strangely withheld us from the necessity of greater changes; for they have been

fewer in number and less important than those of any General Conference since
1792.

While all was going well in the South, the Northern delegates,
on their return, found their constituents divided; some were
displeased that the South: had been put under the necessity of
seeking separation; others, perhaps a larger number, disap-
proved of the terms of separation agreed: on, as too liberal; and
both parties, in the end, were offended more or less because the
South took advantage of the compact to depart, by departing.
When the Conferences acted upon the recommendation to change
the sixth Restrictive Rule, a numerical majority, but not three
fourths, voted for concurrence. The result is stated thus: For
concurrence, Northern Conferences, 1,164; Southern, 971; total.
2,135. For non-concurrence, 1,070.
646 History of Methodism.

 

It cannot be allowéd, for a moment, that these 1,070 were ac-
tuated by motives of dishonesty. A few, perhaps, repented them
of their cooperation in setting up the Plan of Separation, and
lost sight of the man “that sweareth to his own hurt and chang-
eth not;” two or three editors, unfortunately occupying influ-
ential positions, wrought confusion; the political elements were
intensified daily in their opposition to a peaceable adjustment;
and the severity with which some of the Southern assemblies
reviewed the bearings and doings of Northern Methodism, when
declaring in favor of the convention at Louisville, was very ir-
ritating. Moreover, the idea got out among some well-meaning
but illogical persons that by defeating that article which pro-
vided for dividing the Church property, they could defeat the
Plan itself, and keep the Church from being divided. At an
early day troubles along the border became active: neither side
was without fault; and all these things had their influence in
shaping opinions out of which grew actions.

The first General Conference of the Northern section of Epis-
copal Methodism met in Pittsburg, May, 1848. Never was a
Church synod made up, and never did one meet, under circum-
stances less favorable for wise and just deliberations. It was a
reactionary body, elected in a revolutionary period. Most of the
old members of 1844 were left at home. This General Confer-
ence pronounced the division unconstitutional; and because of
this, and because of alleged infractions of the compact on the

‘border, and because the change of the Restrictive Rule had
not received a three-fourths majority, they formally declared the
Plan of Separation “null and void.” *

Dr. Lovick Pierce was early at the Conference, and addressed
a respectful note to that body, stating his mission—that he was
sent to bear to them the Christian salutations of the Church,

 

*It may be gratifying to Methodists of the present generation tc know that
there were but few who in 1844 voted for the Plan that in 1848 repudiated it.
On the rescinding resolution there were 142 votes—132 ayes, 10 nays. Of the
voters 41 were at the Conference of 1814; of the 41 there, 11 had voted against
the Plan; of the 30 remaining 5 voted against repudiation; leaving but 25 out of
the 132 ayes who repudiated their own action of 1844. If it be said that oniy
{hose ot the Conference of 1844 who were pledged to repudiation were reélected
in 1848, it speaks well for the majority of 1844; and while it shows that even
good men may sometimes mistake policy for principle, it does not make repu-
diation righteous. (Myers’s Disruption of the Methodist Episcopal Church.)
The Appeal to Cesar. 647

 

South, and to assure them that it sincerely desired that the two
great Wesleyan bodies should maintain at all times a warm and
confiding fraternal relation to each other; and that he ardently
desired that they, on their part, would accept the offer in the
same spirit of brotherly love and kindness,

After two days the reply was: “Whereas there are serious
questions and difficulties existing between the two bodies, there-
fore resolved that while we tender to Rev. Dr. Pierce all per-
sonal courtesies, and invite him to attend our sessions, this Gen-
eral Conference does not consider it proper at present to enter
into fraternal relations with the Methodist Episcopal Church,
South.”

Dr. Pierce duly acknowledged the offer of a personal courtesy,
but declined it, saying: “ Within the bar I can only be known in
my official character.” And he added: “You will therefore re-
gard this communication as final on the part of the Methodist
Episcopal Church, South. She can never renew the offer of fra-
ternal relaticns between the two great bodies of Wesleyan Meth-
odists in the United States. But the proposition can be re-
newed at any time, either now or hereafter, by the Methodist
Episcopal Church. And if ever made upon the basis of the
Plan of Separation, as adopted by the General Conference of
1844, the Church, South, will cordially entertain the proposition.”

The commissioners of the Church, South, reported themselves
present “to adjust and settle all matters” pertaining to the divis-
ion of the Church property and funds. It need hardly be stated
how they fared at the hands of a body whose record no candid
man, of whatever name or nation, can think on with pleasure.

On a critical occasion St. Paul said, “I appeal unto Cesar.”
Nothing else was left Southern Methodists. Suits were brought
in the United States Circuit Courts of New York and of Ohio,
in 1849, for the pro rata property in New York and Cincinnati.
In the New York suit, decision was given in favor of the Church,
South. The case in Cincinnati went adversely to the Church,
South; and it was carried to the Supreme Court of the United
States, where, on April 25, 1854, by a full bench of eight justices
—Judge McLean, a Methodist, who had already expressed his
opinion, declining to sit in the case—the judgment of the Ohic
Circuit Court was unanimously reversed, and the Plan of Sepa
ration was enforced in all of its provisions and particulars
648 History of Methodism.

 

By this decision the Church, South, held control of the print-
ing establishments in Richmond, Charleston, and Nashville. To
them were transferred the debts due from persons residing
within the limits of their Annual Conferences, and in, addition
$270,000 was paid their agents in cash, the defendants also pay-
ing the costs of the suit.

Southern Methodists were less concerned for the pecuniary
outcome of this painful lawsuit than for its judicial and moral
vindication before the whole world. Party spirit ran high; of-
fenses increased on both sides; and the presses and leaders‘of
the Church, North, busily represented the Church, South, as a
schism, a secession; for the former they assumed the title and
elaim of “the Mother Church,” “the Old Church,”* while the
latter was represented as unauthorized, illegitimate, having no
lot nor part in original Methodism. The pleadings before that
highest and impartial civil judicatory—the Supreme Court—.
covered the whole controversy. The journals of the General
Conferences of 1844, 1846, and 1848 were before them, and of
the Louisville convention of 1845; the Discipline figured largely
before Cxsar; and great lawyers, prompted by Smith and Green
on the one side, and. by Bangs and Peck on the other, made
themselves minutely acquainted with the details and genius of
Episcopal Methodist government. They had a patient hearing
before a bench renowned in jurisprudence, accustomed to con-
strue contracts, and uncommitted; for the only Methodist among
them, a native of Vermont and a citizen of Ohio, stood aloof.

The decision of the Supreme Court, after wading through legal
preliminaries, strikes the case thus:

In the year 1844, the traveling preachers, in General Conference assembled, for
causes which it is not important particularly to refer to, agreed upon a plan for
the division of the Methodist Episcopal Church in case the Annual Conferences
in the slave-holding States should deem it necessary; and to the erection of two
separate and distinct ecclesiastical organizations. . . . In the following year
the Southern Annual Conferences met in convention, in pursuance of the Plan of

Separation, and determined upon a division, and resolved that the Annual Con-
ferences should be constituted into a separate ecclesiastical connection, based upon

 

*A negro exhorter answered this well enough. He was being chaffed by a zealous prese-
yter for belonging to a ‘‘ secession Church,” and invited to join the “old Methodist Church.”
Uncle Joe replied: ‘‘ Ef 1 take my maul an’ wedge an’ split open a tree, anybody can tell
which is the biggest half, but who can tell which is the oldest half?” It is to be regretted
that the elegant and entertaining pages of Dr. Stevens’s History of Methodism, written as late
as 1867, are disfigured, not to say discredited, by the frequent use of such sy expression as
the secession of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South.”
Supreme Court Decision. 649

 

the Discipline of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and to be known by the name
of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. . . . The division of the Church,
as originally constituted, thus became complete; and from this time two separate
and distinct organizations have taken the place of the one previously existing.

But the Church, North, argued that the Southern claimants,
belonging now to another ecclesiastical organization, had forfeit-
ed all right to the property; the division of the Church was made
without proper authority; and however worthy and needy mem-
bers of the Church, South, might be, they came no longer under
the description of persons contemplated as beneficiaries when
the fund in dispute was founded, and it would be a perversion to
give itto them. The court thus disposes of this argument:

This argument, we apprehend, if it proves any thing, proves too much; for if
sound, the necessary consequence is that the beneficiaries connected with the
Church, North, as well as South, have forfeited their right to the fund. It can no
more be affirmed, either in point of fact or of law, that they are traveling preach-
ers in connection with the Methodist Church as originally constituted, since the
division, than of those in connection with the Church, South. Their organization
covers but about half of the territory embraced within that of the former Church,
and includes within it but a little over two-thirds of the traveling preachers,
Their General Conference is not the General Conference of the old Church, nor
does it represent the interest, or possess territorialiy the authority, of the same;
nor are they the body under whose care this fund was placed by its founders. It
may be admitted that, within the restricted limits, the organization and authority
are the same as the former Church; but the same is equally true in respect to the
Church, South. If the division under the direction of the General Conference
has been made without the proper authority, and for that reason the traveling
preachers within the Southern division are wrongfully separated from their con-
nection with the Church, and thereby have lost the character of beneficiaries,
those within the Northern division are equally wrongfully separated from that
connection, as both have been brought into existence by the same authority.

But we do not agree that this division was made without the proper authority.
On the contrary, we entertain yo doubt but that the General Conference of 1844 was
competent to make it; and that each division of the Church, under the separate or-
ganization, is just as legitimate, and can claim as.high a sanction, ecclesiastical and_
temporal, as the Methodist Episcopal Church first founded in the United States.
The authority which founded that Church in 1784 has divided it, and established
two separate and independent organizations, occupying the place of the old one.

The most humiliating feature in all this affair was the dispute
about property. The South voted unanimously for concurrence;
the lack of votes was in Northern and Western Conferences.
To the deep chagrin of multitudes of right-minded Methodists
everywhere, this hitch was made, and the Northern Agente found
themselves, as. they believed, without authority to settle. It
650 History of Methodism.

 

was an awkward fix of their own procuring: the delay gave
rise to bad blood; excuse, however, can be found for it: but
impartial history will find it hard to excuse the dominant party
for trying to take advantage of their own blunder. Instead of
seeking an enabling act to promote an equitable settlement with
their Southern brethren, they sought to disfranchise and dis-
honor them, because the Restrictive Rule had not been changed.
The court cut that knot, and found a way to do justice:

Tt has also been urged, on the part of the defendants, that the division of the
Church, according to the Plan of Separation, was made to depend not only upon
the determination of the Southern Annual Conferences, but also upon the consent
of the Annual Conferences North, as well as South, to a change of the sixth Re-
strictive Article; and as this was refused, the division which took place was un-
authorized. But this isa misapprehension. The change of this Article was not
made a condition of the division. That depended alone upon the decision of the
Southern Conferences. The division of the Methodist Episcopal Church having
thus taken place in pursuance of the proper authority, it carried with it, as mat-
ter of law, a division of the common property belonging to the ecclesiastical or-
ganization, and especially of the property in this Book Concern, which belonged
to the traveling preachers.

It has been argued, however, that according to the Plan of Separation, the di-
vision of the property in this Book Concern was made to depend upon the vote of
the Annual Conferences to change the sixth Restrictive Article, and that, what-
ever might be the legal effect of the division of the Church upon the common
property otherwise, this stipulation controls it, and prevents a division until the
consent is obtained.

We do not so understand the Plan of Separation. It admits the right of the
Church, South, to its share of the common property, in case of a separation, and
provides for a partition of it among the two divisions, upon just and equitable
principles; but regarding the sixth Restrictive Article as a limitation upon the
power of the General Conference, as it respected a division of the property in the
Book Concern, provision is made to obtain a removal of it. The removal of this
limitation is not a condition to the right of the Church, South, to its share of the
property, but is a step taken in order to enable the General Conference to com-
plete the partition of the property.

We will simply add that, as a division of the common property followed, as
matter of law, a division of the Church organization, nothing short of an agree-
nent or stipulation of the Church, South, to give up their share of it, could pre-
ude the assertion of their right; and it is quite clear no such agreement or stip-
ulation is to be found in the Plan of Separation.

And the judges thus end the matter: “ Without pursuing the
case any farther our conclusion is, that the complainants, and
those they represent, are entitled to their share of the property
in this Book Concern; and the proper decree will be entered to
carry this decision into effect.”
Separation—Peace—Prosperity. 651

 

Funds in hand, Southern Methodists at the first opportunity
(1854) set up a Publishing House in Nashville. Changes and war
have been against it, but it has done an incalculable amount of
good in disseminating Christian literature, and shows a sound and
prosperous condition in the centenary year. Northern Method-
ists survived the settlement and, after a brief season of contrac-
tion, expanded their Book Concern operations into dimensions
that rival the great secular establishments of the country. John
Dickins’s little Book Room, the contents of which might have
been hauled in a cart, has been like the grain of mustard-seed.

Both sections of the Church prospered. In 1846 the Method-
ist Episcopal Church, South, had 455,217 members; in 1860, this
number had grown, with proportionate church accommodations, to
749,068. In the same period the Methodist Episcopal Church *
had grown from 644,229 members to 988,523. The per cent. of
annual increase was very nearly the same in each.

These are the words of the wise and good Bishop Morris:
“Tf the Plan of Separation had been carried out in good faith
and Christian feeling on both sides, it would scarcely have been
felt any more than the division of an Annual Conference.”’

 

* This term is used henceforth not as designating the original Church of that
name, for such it is not; but the portion of it not included in the Methodist Epis-
copal Church, South. Each, in its sphere, is the “old Church.”
CHAPTER XLV.

California—Conferences on the Pacific Coast—Foreign Missions—China—Gener-
ai Conference of 1850—Bishop Bascom—His Death: Bishops Pierce, F ava-
natgh, and Early—Education—The Old Controversy Transferred to the North:
How it Ended—Saved by War from Impending Disaster.

E acquisition of California from Mexico, followed soon by

the discovery of gold on the Pacific slope, produced an ab-
normal movement of population westward; it might be called the
‘American crusades. People poured across the plains; a weary
and dusty march of many months; or they took the longer and
quicker route by Panama and Chagres, seeking the golden
coast. This sudden occupation of California and Oregon led to
the survey and more gradual occupation of all the region lying
between the Mississippi and the farthest West, from Montana
down to Arizona. Here was a field for home missions, and Meth-
odism was expected to keep up with the emigrants. The rude, and
often dangerous, circumstances of the missionary perpetuated
the heroic spirit of the itinerancy. In February, 1850, Rev. Dr.
Boring, of Georgia, superintendent of the mission, accompanied
by two assistants, sailed for San Francisco, by way of Panama,
well supplied with standard Methodist and Sunday-school publi-
cations and with copies of the Bible furnished by the American
Bible Society.* They landed safely and proceeded to work with-
out delay. Their progress exceeded their own expectations. The
difficulty they had to encounter lay in the want of men. Circuits
were formed and members enrolled and classed; but in the ab-
sence of pastors to care for it, much favorably projected work
fell through; for nothing stood still in that day. By and by the
Churches moved up to this sudden demand, and California was
supplied with preachers as well as gold-diggers. In April, 1852,
the Pacific Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South,

 

*A. M. Wynn, of Georgia, and D. W. Pollock, of Missouri: followed (1852)
Ly J. C. Simmons, Blythe, Evans, Davies, Pendergrast, Saunders, Lockley, and
Coxe. In 1855 went out Fitzgerald, Fisher, Stewart, Moore, Fulton, Ellis, and
others from the Southern States. Many of these, after longer or shorter service,
veturned; others remained and, with an efficient ministry raised up there, helped
to claim that land for Christ. The Hon. and Rev. D. O. Shattuck went out early
from Louisiana, and has been eminently serviceable to the cause,

(652)
California, Oregon, and China. 653

 

was organized in San Francisco. The year following Bishop
Soule presided over the Conference, when five hundred and
thirty-seven members were reported, and $1,200 missionary mon-
ey was collected.* The statistics of 1883 show seventy traveling
preachers, forty-seven local, four thousand four hundred and
eighty white, eight colored, and seven Indian members, with
Pacific College located at Santa Rosa.

Ata later date the almost limitless territory north of California

was organized into the Columbia Conference, including Oregon,
and Idaho and Washington Territories, with their college at Cor-
vallis. That eminent field-preacher, Orceneth Fisher, led the
‘way into Oregon, after exercising a powerful and evangelical
ministry in the North-west and then in Texas. And later
still the Los Angeles Conference was organized, one district of
which includes Arizona. The two last are largely missionary
fields, and the distances and labors and sacrifices encountered
in serving them call to mind the scenes of Church-planting
when “the West” lay between the Alleghany Range and the
Mississippi River.

When the division took place the Methodism of America had
no representative in any foreign field except Liberia and Buenos
Ayres. The great masses of heathenism “in the regions be-
yond” lay untouched, and no effort had been made by Episco-
pal Methodists to approach them. Both divisions of the Church
felt the pressure of the demand about the same time. The
Northern branch sent Rev. Messrs. White and Collins, who
reached Foo Chow in August, 1847. In September, 1848, Dr.
Charles Taylor, of the Southern branch, landed at Shanghai.
He was soon joined by Rev. Benjamin Jenkins, who for several

_ years had been connected with the publication of the Christian
Advocate at Charleston. It was supposed that being a practical
printer, and having linguistic talent, he would be serviceable to
the projected mission. Shanghai was regarded as the most eli-
gible of all the consular ports in China. It was the emporium of
European and American trade with the North of China, the out-
port of the central provinces, and port of entry for Tartary.
The population of the city was reckoned at over two hundred
thousand, and that of the province to which it belonged was esti-

 

%* Missions of the Methodist Episcopa’ Church, South, by A. W. Wilson, D.D.;
12mo, pages 144: 1882.
2Q
654 History of Methodism,

 

mated at thirty-five million. It was within easy reach of Su-
chow, the most cultivated city in the province, and in constant
communication with a dense population in villages, cities, and
country-places, stretching away into the interior.

The missionaries got into quarters, struggled with the difficul-
ties of the language, and in January, 1850, the first public serv-
ice was held by Dr. Taylor. Into their small chapel the people,
as they passed by, were invited to enter and hear the “Jesus
doctrine.” The first fruit of their labors is reported by Mr. Jen-
kins, in 1851. The man who served him as teacher applied for
Christian baptism about six months after his engagement com-
menced. He conducted himself with great propriety, and made
such progress in Christian knowledge that in January, 1852, he
was baptized, together with his wife. Liew, as his name was
called, might be taken as a kind of first-fruits, a sample of what
is possible among the people who make up a quarter of the hu-
man race. His mental force, his moral worth, and his power of
speech were reckoned at a high rate; and his death, after useful
service as a preacher, was a comfortable, a triumphant demon-
stration of the power of the gospel to save. None superior to
this first convert has since appeared in the native Church.

Reénforcements of able and consecrated men from time to time
followed, and though sad inroads were made upon the mission
families by the climate, a remnant always remained to hold the
ground.* The returning missionaries largely compensated for
their loss abroad by scattering information at home, and keeping
alive the public interest. The missionaries planned wisely, for
preaching and teaching, for itinerating in the regions accessible,
and distributing the printed truth. Their schools—including
girls’--were prosecuted with diligence and patience, in which ,
their wives sometimes excelled as teachers.

In 1858 a treaty was concluded between Great Britain and
China which fell out to the furtherance of the gospel. It opened
the whole empire to missionaries, and guaranteed their protec-

 

* W. G. E. Cunnyngham, of Holston, sailed from New York in May, and ar-
rived in Shanghai in October, 1852. The following year three were added to the
mission—D. C. Kelley, of Tennessee; J. L. Belton, of Alabama; and J. W. Lam-
buth, of Mississippi. In December, 1859, Young J. Allen, of Georgia, and M. L.
Wood, of North Carolina, sailed from New York for Shanghai. All these were
accompanied by their families. (See Bishop A. W. Wilson’s History of Missions
of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South.)
General Conference of 1850. 655

 

tion; and the United States Government also entered into a treaty
which secured to our citizens all the privileges and rights grant-
ed to those of any other nation. Thus the great obstacle to the
propagation of the gospel in China was finally taken out of the
way, and henceforth there was nothing to contend with put the
evil incident to the heathen conditions of human nature.

Thd second General Conference met in St. Louis, May, 1850, |
and continued in session but two weeks, on account of the pres-
ence of cholera in the city. One member died, and the sick-list
was so large that, in an important election, balloting by proxy was
allowed. The report of Dr. Pierce, fraternal delegate, was re-
ceived and approved; and the three commissioners also gave in-
formation of the progress of, their business, and were approved.
The(Joint Board of setae oa recommended by this Confer-
ence; subsequently, it became law. It provides that an equal
number of traveling preachers and laymen—one from every dis-
triet—take charge of the money matters of each Annual Confer-
ence; make estimates and assessments for the coming year; and
distribute funds collected for the relief of superannuated preach-
ers and for widows and orphans.

The Quarterly Review was removed to Richmond, and D. 8.
Doggett appointed editor; E. W. Sehon, Missionary Secretary;
John Early was continued Book Agent; and Thomas O. Sum-
mers vas appointed Book Editor and editor of Sunday-school
Journal. Henry B. Bascom was elected Bishop, and ordained
May 12th.* The journal says: “The venerable senior superin-
tendent, Bishop Soule, who was brought to the church in great
feebleness, took the lead in the laying on of hands, though scarce-
ly able to pronounce the formula.”

The career of Henry B. Bascom as preacher and educator and
author was brilliant; and as Bishop, brief. He was born in West-
ern New York, 1796.¢ His mother was of German extraction-—
the Bidleman family. Hesays: “I have known few women who
possessed a larger share of the poetry of feeling.” The son of
poor parents, his heritage was toil and privation. His school
advantages ended in his twelfth year, and he was boring log-

a

 

*On first ballot 100 voted. For Henry B. Bascom, 47; J. Boyle, 14; George F.
Pierce, 14; John Early, 10; Winans, 8. On second ballot Bascom received 59.

+ Within two miles of Chehocton village, on the New York and Erie Rail
road. (Henkle’s Life of Bascom.)
656 History of Methodism.

 

pumps to make a living and help his parents, at fifteen. He was
converted the year before, and walked ten miles to the meeting
at which he joined the Church. Still farther westward the fam-
ily make their home; and while boring logs in Ohio, Bascom
held prayer-meetings and began to preach. In 1813 he was ad-
mitted into the traveling connection, at Steubenville, mounted on
a horse which he had paid for by splitting rails for a neighbor.
William McMahon took charge of him on the way to Conference,
shared his room with him, loved him always, and thus described
him: “ Well grown, of fine appearance, very pious, sprightly and
intelligent for a lad of his years and limited opportunities.”
Hard circuits were his portion and probation for a long time.
Tall and well-proportioned, a model of manly dignity and beau-
ty, he could not help looking well, even in coarse apparel; and
the brethren thought him proud. He hardly deserved to be
praised for magnanimity, since by nature he was incapable of
meanness. Henry Clay procured, unknown to him, his election as
chaplain to Congress. Though the usual defects of self-educa-
tion, however thorough, showed themselves in his style, they
were as motes in the sunbeam. No pulpit orator in his day had
an equalfame. At the General Conference of 1840 he preached,
snd one who could well appreciate the occasion gave this account:
He preached in the Light Street Church to as dense a throng as could crowd
into the spacious building—the adjoining street being filled with people who could
not find entrance into the church. His text was, “ Behold the Lamb of God, which
taketh away the sin of the world.” The sermon embraced all the cardinal ele-
ments of the Christian system, set forth in a light so vivid, under illustrations so
overpoweringly magnificent, and with a vehemence so rushing and pauseless as to
hold the vast audience spell-bound. At particular passages, several of which we
distinctly remember, the effect was awful. The sentences came like the sharp,
zigzag lightning; the tones of the preacher’s voice were like articulate thunder.
The hearer cowered under the weight of thought piled on thought, and was driv-
en almost beside himself by the rapid whirl of dazzling imagery. The sermon,
artistically considered, had the strange fault of being too great. It covered toc
vast a field of thought, it was marred by excess of grandeur. You were bewil-
dered by the quick succession of vivid pictures thrown off, as by the turn of a grand
kaleidoscope. The impassioned fervor of the preacher seemed too self-consuming.*
Bascom was never heard in deliberative assemblies; his state-
ly craft did not affect the chopping seas of debate. But it was a
popular error that his superiority lay in speaking only. His ec-
slesiastical state papers ‘are of the very first rank. He wrote the

 

* Dr. Wightman (editor) in Southern Christian Advocate.
( Henry B. Bascom. ) 657

 

Protest; as chairman of the Committee of Thirty, on organiza
tion, in the Louisville convention, he was the author of that mas-
terly report; and he wrote other papers in the controversy, which
are models of mental grasp and perspicuity and force. Pressed
by his necessities, he consented to publish a volume of sermons.
Editions amounting to twenty thousand copies were sold. Heavy
expenses and a narrow income pressed sorely upon Bascom’s
spirit all his days; yet he refused the offers, many and tempting,
that would turn him away from a simple Methodist preacher’s
lot. His devotion to his father in sickness and poverty was
beautiful. The time that was saved in the vacations of college,
and from the eager demands of admiring congregations who
often forgot to meet his expenses, was spent in the cabin a few
miles from the Ohio, opposite Maysville, ministering to the de-
crepit parent’s infirmities. He cut and hauled wood from the
forest to warm the household; and to make himself a wakeful
nurse, he slept on a bench, with a block of wood for his pillow.
He was with his father at his death, which he described to a
friend. Having received the sacrament at his son’s hand, “he
enjoyed it greatly, thanking God for the precious privilege.
‘Now, my son, I am ready to depart and be with Christ. But
your mother (step-mother) and the children—will you take
care of them?’ ‘Father,’ said I, ‘do you doubt it?’ ‘No,
Henry, no; I should not have asked you—I know you will. But
one thing more—bury me beside your mother. And do you
recollect that she was buried by moonlight, in consequence
of a detention at the house?’ ‘I recollect it well,’ saidI. ‘The
moon gives light now, Henry, does it not?’ he continued. I
answered affirmatively. ‘Well then, bury me by moonlight, be-
side your mother.’ On being assured that it should be done as he
wished, an ineffable light spread over his countenance, and whis-
pering his farewell to the family, he calmly fell asleep in Jesus.”

He preached his own ordination sermon, on the “Cross of
Christ,” and descending from the pulpit took vows from which
II[eaves soon released him. The first and only Conference he
presided over was the St. Louis, which met at Independence,
July 10, 1850. The weather was warm; the river was low, and
cholera prevailed through its valley. After much detention he
reached the Conference on Saturday. For several years he had
been reading his sermons, but now, more careful for his example

42
658 History of Mehodism.

 

than his reputation, he threw aside manuscripts, and on Sunday
preached in a grove adjoining the city to an immense multitude.
“He disappointed us, but most agreeably,” reported a hearer.
“Without a single note he gave a most clear and plain exposi-
tion of the sacred text, adapted to the comprehension of every
mind.” In the last days of July he returned to St. Louis sick;
preached two hours on Sunday, and “greatly exhausted himself.’
On his way home he reached Louisville August 2, but was una.
ble to proceed to Lexington; and there, in the house of his old
and intimate friend, Dr. ‘Stevenson, he died peacefully, Septem-
ber 8th, with this testimony: “All my trust and confidence is in
Poe Goodness, as revealed in the cross of Christ.”

The bequest (in 1850) of Rev. Benjamin Wofford, of South
Carolina, of $100,000, for the purpose of “establishing and en-
dowing a college for literary, classical, and scientific education,”
under the control of the South Carolina Conference, marked an
era. It was the largest personal offering that had been made
to the Church by any Methodist in America, at that date. The
college at Spartanburg, with a well-selected corps of instructors,
was opened in 1854, and bears the worthy name of its founder.
This munificence was exceeded soon after by Mrs. Eliza Garrett,
of Illinois, who founded Garrett Biblical Institute, at Evanston,
near Chicago, which was opened in 1855. It was under Dr.
Dempster’s direction, who had previously put into successful
operation the Concord Biblical Institute in the Hast—the first
of its kind in the United States. The English Methodists, since
1834, had been training home, and especially foreign, laborers in
“the Wesleyan Theological Institution for the improvement of
junior preachers;” and of their centenary offering in 1839 they
gave $137,500 to their two theological institutions—one at Dids-
bury and the other at Richmond.

The Methodists of Alabama emulated these examples by es-
tablishing a college at Auburn, and also by building and en-
dowing the Southern University at Greensboro. The Manual
Labor School, at Covington, Georgia, had given rise to Emory
College, which rivaled the State University. In South-western
Virginia, Emory and Henry College had taken its place among
the most useful. Randolph Macon was reaching out after
its $100,000 endowment; Texas rejoiced in the prosperity of
Soule College, at Chapel Hill; and Missouri was doing well with
Educational—Bishops Pierce, Early, and Kavanaugh. 659

 

St. Charles and Central Colleges; and Kentucky had made a good
beginning at Millersburg. La Grange College had been trans-
ferred from the mountain to the railroad town of Florence,
where handsome buildings had been prepared for it, under an-
other name, and its halls were full of students. The buildings
and outfit of the Louisiana State College at Jackson had passed _
into the hands of a denomination whose energy and numbers gave
te the public satisfactory promise of working it successfully—
something the State had failed to do—and under the name of
Centenary College, was being well patronized by the Mississippi
and Louisiana Conferences. Female schools and colleges, of ex-
cellent grade, were so distributed throughout the land that the
educational facilities of Methodism from 1840 to 1860 were quite
abreast of the age.*

An interesting question before the General Conference of 1854
at Columbus, Georgia, was the policy and location of the Pub-
lishing House. The episcopal college was strengthened by the
Sictiow oF Genre F. Pierce, John Early, and Hubbard H. Kay-
anaugh. Having located the Boards and Publishing House in
Nashville, the General Conference readily consented to hold its

Sion there, to see how they fared; and after a session of
harmony and healthful interest, the General Conference of 1858,
with congratulations and thanksgivings as to the state and out-
look of the Church, adjourned, having selected New Orleans as
the place of meeting for its successor.

In the northern section of Episcopal Methodism there was a
spirit of enlargement and activity. A mission was established

 

*The fate of Augusta was due to a mistake which must often happen when lo-
cations are fixed before the lines of travel and the affinities of population are fi-
nally determined. The grand old College was left high and dry on the south
bank of the Ohio River; for when its patronizing Conferences on both sides ceased
to codperate, it suited neither, and there was no local patronage. Asbury Uni-
versity, at Greencastle, Indiana, and the Ohio Wesleyan, at Delaware, drew away
fror. it in that direction; and the Kentuckians turned to Transylvania, at Lexing-
ton, But Augusta College did not die before doing a work, through a quarter of a
century, that can never die. Negotiations for making Transylvania University a
connectional institution extended from 1840 to 1850; at one time, with promise
of success. But the transfer, as accomplished, only embraced one, instead of its
three departments—the academic, or Morrison College—and that was found to he
mortgaged. Asa mere college, it came into competition with others as good. Its
nominal connectionalism excused local apathy. Dr. Bascom gave seven years o!
raluable labor to it, and ten to Augusta.
660 History of Methodism.

 

in India (1856), which though endangered, happily escaped de-
struction from the Sepoy rebellion; and it has prospered. At-
tention to the spiritual wants of immigrants from Germany,
Norway, Sweden, and Denmark, who were crowding into the
North and North-west, was rewarded by success at home, and a
reflex influence upon the countries from which they came.
Episcopal visitations to Liberia were made at such cost and peril
that a colored minister of that Conference—Francis Burns—waa
made missionary bishop in 1856.

One restless, ever-growing trouble afflicted that section of the
Church—slavery. Many Methodists in Delaware and Maryland,
and a smaller number in Virginia, being on the border, adhered
to that side; and until the line became fixed as low down as
possible, abolition agitation was suppressed. “The Discipline
as it is” was now the rallying cry of the Baltimore, Philadel-
phia, and Ohio Conferences, and the two former gave their peo-
ple solemn assurances that they would never submit to any
change that looked to making non-slave-holding a term of mem-
bership. A well-informed authority says of the decade after the
division: ‘There was a temporary suspension of anti-slavery ac-
tivity, caused by sympathy with the general solicitude for the
+ peace and harmony of the border. The official papers of the
Methodist Episcopal Church were very full and explicit in their
assurances, also, that there would be no change in its Discipline on
that question.” * In 1852, at the General Conference in Boston,
Bishop Hedding having died and Bishop Hamline, a man of fever-
ish eloquence and hypochondriacal humor, having illustrated his
own doctrine by resignation, the episcopal bench of the Church,
North, was greatly strengthened by the election of Levi Scott,
Matthew Simpson, Edward R. Ames, and Osmon C. Baker.
The Southern border, began now to be uneasy, and to realize its
attitude; four years later it had to contend for toleration, and
four years after that, for existence.

While professing to abhor slavery, the Church, North, held on
to all the slave-holders who would adhere at first, and sought to
take i: as many as possible afterward. The organization of an An-
nual Conference in Kentucky was under consideration at Boston.
Heman Bangs, with forcible irony, said: “ What do you want
to go there for? Have they not Methodist doctrine and Meth.

*The Anti-slavery Struggle and Triumph, by Matlack, Chapter X VIL

 
Slavery Troubles om the North. 661

 

odist discipline and Methodist institutions already? What do
you want to go there for? If it is to get. more of these misera-
ble’ slave-holders into our Church, then I am opposed to it.
Have n’t we enough of them already?” This brought Mr. Col-
lins, of Baltimore, to his feet. “He could have no fellowship with
the cant that had been uttered here about ‘these miserable slave-
holders.’ No; he would bring them in and make them members
of our body, and their servants too. It would make them better
masters and better servants.” Mr. Porter, of New England, was
candid enough to say: “Those slave-holders who are in the
Church were understood to be there by toleration rather than by
right. It was matter of grievance, matter of profound regret,
that there was one in the Church, and that our anti-slavery
friends were under the necessity every four years of praying us
to put a stop to slavery. Is it true that we are trying to tow
others in? God forbid!”

Nevertheless, with mission funds, the Conference in Kentucky
was created—seventy-seven yeas to sixty-six nays; and subse-
quently another in Arkansas and in Missouri. In 1856 the Epis-
copal Address suggested the careful handling of a certain sub-
ject, because as a result of their policy “we have six Annual
Conferences which are wholly or in part in slave territory.”

The old controversy, as transferred to the Church, North, lost
none of its earnestness and progressiveness. The signs of ad-
vanced action were so strong, before the quadrennial meeting in
1856, that the principa] Church paper—the Christian Advocate
at New York—then edited by one who had misled his friends
into an untenable and a false position, used this language:
“We did intimate that if the next or any subsequent General
Conference should enact a rule of discipline excluding all slave-
holders from the Church, whatever be their character or circum-
stances, it would become the duty of the border Conferences to
disregard the rule.’ The committee of that General Conference
did bring in a report recommending a change in the Rule on slay-
ery so as to make non-slave-holding a condition of membership.
This required a two-thirds majority to put it on its passage in
‘tthe Annual Conferences, and a three-fourths votefrom them. <A
shorter route proposed was, to pass a statutory law, by a majority,
having the same effect. The eager abolitionists saw no reason
why constitutional delays should restrain them from extirpating
662 History of Methodism.

 

slavery, when the sentiment of the age was so overwhelming.
ly against it. An. elaborate speech was made by Dr. Abel
Stevens. He insisted that the General Rule allowed slave-
holding: “Let it come out then, sir; for the sake of frankness,
for the sake of repentance, for the sake of amendment, let it be
acknowledged that historically, constitutionally, administrative-
ly, we have been a slave-holding, though an anti-slavery, Church.”
And he warned them against attempting to compass their end
by a statutory enactment: “Another division of the Church could
not, we all know, be limited to the border. It would strike its
desolating fractures, like the rending of an earthquake, through
all our solid central strength, to the very North itself. Our
denominational history would close, sir, with another such dis-
aster. Fragments of the stately structure might remain, but
fragments which would themselves only crumble more and more
away.” Alfred Griffith and John A. Collins and Henry Slicer
warned and entreated that the blow might not fall. Two par-
ties were formed—Northern and Southern anti-slavery; and
some of the former took the ground that “no Christian can, by
any possibility, either be a slave or a slave-holder, in any prop-
er sense of these words.” A delegate from North Ohio said:
“Let something be done, some advanced step be taken, or send
us not back to our people.” .The venerable Dr. George Peck
assured them that many of their best and wealthiest mem-
bers in the North sympathized with the border in this conflict
with ultraism, and intimated that a split might begin, but would
not end, there. He opposed more stringent legislation:

Ifa hope might be entertained that the ceaseless agitation on the subject of
slavery would pause somewhere this side of the total ruin of the work in the slave-
helding States, there would be some plausibility in a compromise measure; in-
deed, almost any change in the law which would not absolutely expel all slave-
holders—if its enactment would set the question finally at rest-—would be prefer-
able to the irritations of an endless controversy. Our progressive brethren are
prepared to take all they can get, but with the frank avowal that they will con-
tinue to press on toward the goal of ‘a final separation of all slave-holders from
the Church. This is what they purpose to accomplish as soon as they can com-
mand the votes; they will only pause upon intermediate points to take breath for
a brief period. The present measure, radical as it is, is not a finality; it is not
what our reformers ask for and intend to have; agitation will go on, and the war
upon our Southern border will continue to be pressed with increasing vigor, until

our brethren there shall either he forced out of the Church or compelled to sub-
mit to legal enactments which are utterly impossible in the slave-holding States,
Saved from an Impending Disaster. 66%

 

The persuasive John P. Durbin wrote and spoke, presenting
the example of the primitive Church and the Bible treatment
of the subject. He showed very elaborately by numerous quo-
tations from the New Testament, concerning masters and serv-
ants, with the expositions of the most learned commentators and
scholars in support of the view, ‘that the apostles admitted
slave-holders into the Church.” The Indianapolis General Con-
ference was persuaded to forbear taking the shorter route, and
to treat the grave subject of a new term of membership more de-
liberately. In favor of changing the General Rule, there were
one hundred and twenty-two votes; against it, ninety-six. As it
required a majority of two-thirds to adopt it and put it upon
its passage through the Annual Conferences, Bishop Waugh an-
nounced the result by saying: “The resolution is not adopted,
not having two-thirds of the votes in its favor.”

The position of the border Conferences from 1856 to 1860 was
very much that of a prisoner awaiting execution. The topics of
the day were making the political cauldron boil. After several
days’ debate in the General Conference at Buffalo (1860), the
vote on changing the General Rule was one hundred and thirty-
eight yeas to seventy-four "nays, which was less, but barely less,
than the two-thirds majority. But the grinding new chapter
—statutory—was adopted by one hundred and fifty-five yeas to
fifty-eight nays. The Baltimore, East Baltimore, and Philadel-
phia Conferences demanded its repeal, and began to resist.

Modern abolitionism—a combined product of political, social,
sectional, and commercial influences, and partaking of a stim-
ulating type of moral sentiment—was now become strong. In-
stead of putting into the field a candidate to be ridiculed, as
was the case twenty years before, it took good advantage of the
divided state of the two national parties that had hitherto gov-
erned the country, and was bringing forward a man to win the
presidential prize—whose election dated a revolution. Noth-
ing but the civil war, which was precipitated upon the country
gaved Northern Methodism from an impending disaster.
CHAPTER XLVI.

Civil War: Some of its Effects upon the Church, South—Numbers and Strength
-Diminished— Peace Restored—Address of the Bishops—General Conference
of 1866—Resuscitation—Legislation—Flourishing Condition of the Church,
North, in the Meantime—Lay Delegation—District Conferences—Constitu-
tional Test—What Became of the Negro Membership of the Church, South--
Foreign Missions—Education—General Conferences from 1870 to 1882,

r[NHE war between the States affected, more or less damag-

ingly, all religious interests. In each end of the Union the
largest popular element was represented by Methodism, and nat-
urally each section of the Church was in sympathy with its own
people. In the Methodist Episcopal Church, the membership
from 1860 to 1864 showed a decrease of over sixty-eight thousand.
This loss oceurred chiefly on the border. But the times were
flush with money there, and their financial interests were con-
stantly improving. Their contributions for missions increased
over sixty per cent. in these four years.

The Church, South, shared in all the calamities of the long
and unequal conflict. The distresses of war were intensified by
the impoverishment and confusion which follow invasion and de-
feat. The actual loss of members—not including colored—
slightly exceeded one hundred and thirteen thousand. Hun-
dreds of churches were burned, or dismantled by use as hospitals,
warehouses, or stables. College endowments were swept away,
and the buildings abandoned. Annual Conferences met irregu-
iarly or in fragments; the General Conference (of 1862) was not
held; and the whole order of the itinerancy was interrupted. The
Church-press was silent, and many of the most liberal supporters
of the Church and its institutions were reduced to abject want.

The situation, as revealed after peace was restored, may not
be described. Two thousand one hundred and ten battles had
been fought, and hundreds of thousands of lives and thousands
of millions of property had been destroyed.* A few figures
may serve as an index for Southern Methodism: In 1860 the
number of white members (including 5,353 local preachers) was
542,489; in 1866 the number (including 3,829 local preachers)
was 429,233. In 1860 the collection in all the Conferences to

 

* Official Reports of Surgeon-general Barnes (3 vols. folio), giving the list of

yattle-fields.
(664)
A Few Results of the War. 665

 

aid superannuated preachers and widows and orphans was
$67,030; in 1866 for the same class of claimants, more needy
than ever, $35,444. In 1860 there were 2,458 effective traveling
preachers, and 266 recruits admitted on trial; in 1866 the num-
ber was 2,116, and 114 admitted on trial.* It was six or seven
years before the old figures were touched again, and this marks
the period of greatest depression. The Publishing House had
been seized by military officers and used for a United States
printing-office and other purposes, at a great loss and damage
to the property. The missionaries in China had been cut off from
all communication with the home Board. The drafts in their
hands were honored by the indorsement of the Treasurer of the
Missionary Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church, at New
York, and served their uses for a time; but this, of course, wag
only a temporary relief, leaving a debt.

This debt was hard to meet, and one of the first efforts was di-
rected to it. The lightest sum seemed heavy; but it was a pleas-
ing instance of brotherly kindness, when such acts were rare.
The catholic-spirited act of Dr. Thomas Carlton gave an inti-
mation of what many others felt but had not an opportunity of
demonstrating. Whatever mitigates the logic of war is a char-
ity to the human race. When this short supply was exhausted
the missionaries of the Church, South, were thrown upon their
own resources. Dr. Allen found employment in the service of
the Chinese Government, in its translation and editorial depart-
ment, which gave him access to the higher classes, the educated
Chinese, and opened to him the opportunity for diffusing Chris-
tian thought and truth through native channels. Along with
this work he continued the ministry of the word as he was able.
He and Dr. Lambuth both supported themselves during those
trying years, and carried forward their mission-work until sup-
plies in small amounts began to reach them—at once a relief,
and an assurance that the Church had no purpose of abandon-
ing her plans, though not in condition to expand them.

The Indian mission work was brought very low. In 1860 it
numbered four thousand one hundred and sixty members, with
numerous schools; but when the muster-roll was called six years
later only seven hundred and one could be found. Their coun-
try had been overrun by marauding troops, and Colonels Che.

 

* Hand-book of Southern Methodism, by P. A. Peterson, D.D.: 1883.
666 History of Methodism.

 

cote, Standwattie, and other chiefs, under the Confederate ban-
ner, had led their warriors on the losing side. Tribes and fam-
ilies were dispersed; and starvation must have completed the dis-
tresses of war but for the ability of Indians to live at the low-
est subsistence-point. It was gravely doubted whether the In-
dian Conference could ever be reérganized.

Homes had been laid waste, and cattle, mills, and implements of
industry destroyed; streams were without bridges and fields with-
out fences. Large districts were on the verge of famine for two
or three years after armies had been disbanded. But the most
discouraging feature of all was the methods employed in reérgan-
izing the civil governments under cormorant exactors and dema-
gogues, and in the presence of four millions of emancipated
slaves with the ballot in their hands. Under these circum-
stances, with these surroundings, Southern Methodism began its
rehabilitation; perplexed, but not in despair; cast down, but not
destroyed.

In the summer of 1865 the Bishops met in Columbus, Geor-
gia and, consulting on the situation, issued an address. It was
like the blast of a trumpet, and gave no uncertain sound.—The
Methodist Episcopal Church, South, yet lived, and in all its pol-
ity and principles was unchanged. Neither disintegration nor
absorption was for a moment to be thought of, all rumors to the
contrary notwithstanding. Whatever banner had fallen or been
folded up, that of Southern Methodism was still unfurled; what-
ever cause had been lost, that of Southern Methodism survived.
And the delegates to the General Conference were summoned to
meet in New Orleans, April, 1866, according to adjournment
eight years before. The peeled and scattered hosts, discour-
aged and confused by adversities and adverse rumors, rallied;
the Annual Conferences were well attended; and never did del-
egates meet in General Conference from center and remotest
posts more enthusiastically; of one hundred and fifty-three elect,
one hundred and forty-nine were present.

One of the events of the opening session was a fine-looking
delegation of Baltimore Methodists, who had taken the first op-
portunity of adhering to the Church, South, thus offsetting some
losses in Northern Kentucky and Hast Tennessee. They with-
drew from the jurisdiction of the Methodist Episcopal Church
in 1861, and maintained an independent existence until their ses-
Changes in the Discipline. 667

 

sion in Alexandria, March, 1866, when this formal union was
effected under Bishop Early, and delegates were elected.*

Men’s minds had become used to great changes, and the ses-
sion at New Orleans was therefore favorable for measures
upon which the usual conservatism might have hesitated long
in ordinary times. Class-meetings can never be too highly es-
teemed for the good they do and have done; but one of the acts
of 1866 was to recognize the fact that attendance on them ought
not to be enforced with greater penalties than attendance upon
other means of grace. The rigid limit of six months’ probation
was abolished. Admission to Church-membership must be
guarded with reasonable and conscientious care. Wordly-mind-
ed material cannot build up a spiritual house; privileges light-
ly bestowed are lightly esteemed; and responsibilities incurred
without being emphatically understood are already in the way
to be neglected, and always to the scandal of pure religion.
Pastors are therefore required, when persons offer themselves
for membership, to inquire into their spiritual condition, and to
obtain satisfactory assurances of their religious experience and
their purpose of conformity and consecration, before admitting
them. This may be done at once, or it may be a month or a year
before the candidate is brought before the congregation to take
the vows. The longest term of a pastor’s continuous service at
one congregation had been two years; it was now fixed at four.
At one time a motion was favorably entertained to remove the
limit altogether, leaving the appointment annual, but to be re-
peated at the discretion of the appointing power. This, however,
was reconsidered, none objecting more to the extension of discre-
tion than the Bishops. If they, for the good of the whole work,
must move the preachers, the law must keep them movable.

_ District Conferences were discussed and recommended, though
not regulated by law until four years later. They came exten-
sively into use throughout the Connection, and by the time the
next General Conference took the matter in hand for definitely

 

* This body formed a portion of the original Baltimore Conference which had
been divided into Baltimore and East Baltimore. The war changed a large amount
of the opposition developed by the (Buffalo) General Conference of 1860; incipient
separation was estopped; and the first resolutions taken in that way were rescind-
ed at subsequent sessions. War fused nearly all Northern sentiment into abolition-
iam. The portion of the Baltimore Conference, represented at New Orleans, num
bered 108 traveling and 57 local preachers, and 12,000 members.
668 History of Methodism.

 

shaping it, this institute had shown admirable fitness for serving
the Church to edification. This was not that District Confer-
ence which obtained from 1820 to 1836—confined to local preach-
ers, and never popular or useful. It was rather a return to the
earlier practice, when a Yearly Conference was held by Bishop
Asbury in every District. Simple in organization, and bringing
together various elements of power within a range wide enough
for variety and narrow enough for codperation; promoting Chris-
tian fellowship; taking cognizance of a class of subjects which
neither Annual nor Quarterly Conferences can so well handle;
and bringing to bear upon given points, for days, the best preach-
ing, where Christian hospitality and love-feasts and sacraments
mnay be enjoyed—the District Conference fell at once into place.

The great measure of 1866 was lay delegation. Its prostrate,
almost collapsed, condition required all available help the Church
could command. A sentiment in favor of lay codperation had
been growing quietly for years. Once, only two questions were
asked in Annual Conference: How many are in Society? Where
are the preachers stationed this year? There was no business
for laymen then. The schedule grew to embrace a wider range of
topics and a larger care. By and by education, Sunday-schools
and Sunday observance, religious publications and their dis-
semination, orphanage and widowhood, temperance, and Church
extension, began to occupy much time in Annual and General
Conferences, and the need of laymen was felt.

The original motion was in the form of two resolutions, simple
and general, not embarrassed by particulars. The first was.
“ Resolved, That it is the sense of this General Conference that
lay representation be introduced into the Annual and the General
Conferences.” This was adopted by ninety-six yeas, forty-nine
nays. The principle once admitted, onary a wanerical aajor”
ity, every thing was gained. Men who were doubtful, or so indif-
ferent to the new measure as to vote on the old side, saw that the
Church could not well stand in that attitude on such a subject—
excluding laymen on a minority expression of the ministry; and
enough of them consented to waive their preferences on the final
record to make a two-thirds majority.

A special committee, called for by the second resolution, took
the matter in hand, with instructions to arrange the details of
a plan; which was adopted, ninety-seven_yeas, forty-one nays.
Lay Representation Adopted. 669

 

The measure having passed on to the Annual Conferences, ob-
tained the requisite three-fourths vote, and laymen took their
seats in the General Conference of 1870.

Considering the Annual Conference as mainly an executive
body, the presence of only four lay delegates from each district
is provided for there; but in the General Conference, the law-
making body, the number of lay delegates is equal to the cler-
ical. So ripe was public opinion, and so propitious the times,
and so well digested the scheme, that this great change was in-
troduced without heat or partisanship. Unstintedly, volunta-
rily, on their own motion, the ministry, who had held this power
from the beginning, divided it equally with lay brethren. Their
appearance in the chief council of the Church, and their in-
fluence, justified their introduction, even to those who had
feared; a new power was developed, a new interest awakened,
a new progress begun. At least two tentative schemes preceded
this consummation. In the Virginia Conference the Joint Board
of Finance had been in use before it was taken into considera-
tion and recommended by the General Conference of 1850.* In
1854 the Louisiana Conference began to practice lay codperation
on a larger scale, and its financial and spiritual conditions were
soon the better for it. A number of laymen from each dis-
trict were invited to meet with the Conference. The subjects
usually referred to committees—as books and periodicals, mis-
sions, church and parsonage building, education, ministerial sup-
port, Sunday-schools—were considered on afternoons in com-
mittee of the whole, where these laymen spoke and voted; and
the reported conclusion was formally adopted by the legal Con-
ference. This plan came into use in the Mississippi Conference,
and perhaps others, with advantage.

Bishops Soule, Andrew, and Early, aged and feeble, were, at
their request, retired upon the superannuated list; and four bish-
ops were elected and ordained—William M. Wightman, Enoch
M. Marvin, David S. Doggett, and Holland N. McTyeire.

The Publishing House and Missionary Society wrecks were
patched up, and sent forth desperately, to sink or swim. There
was no capital, and but little credit; no supply, but much de-
mand. The weekly Christian Advocates, one by one, got into po-
sition; the colleges and schools reédpened under miscellaneous

 

7 is credited to the fertile mind of Dr. William A, Smith.
2
670 History of Methodism.

 

classification; the débris of cities and farms was cleared away,
and new structures gradually rose; the earth was fruitful and re-
sponded to labor; the energies of a people, whose spirit was not
broken but rather invigorated by adversity, grappled with the
strange situation; the rapacious adventurers who had settled
down like a nightmare upon State and county and municipal
governments were thrown off; the new instauration disclosed its
advantages and compensations; things mended and times grew
better. The itinerant went forth again on his gracious errands;
ald circuit lines were restored and enlarged; new and larger
churches were built, and better parsonages; and by the blessing
of the Lord the Church survived and grew. The white member-
ship was less in number than twelve years before, but it was
doubled in fifteen years, with a corresponding improvement in
Church property and accommodations and ministerial support.*

In 1866 were reported 78,742 of the colored membership that
had numbered 207,766. The two African Churches, hitherto op-
erating mainly in the North, appropriated a large share of them;
another portion went to Northern Methodism, which had also
come down to divide the spoils. To the latter went many of the
preachers and exhorters, who made the most efficient agents for
extending their new organization in the Southern field; and some
of them have more than once figured creditably in their General
Conferences. The remnant that clave to the Church which min-

 

*In 1850 (according to United States census tables) the value represented by
church-buildings and parsonages in the Church, South, was $3,771,502. In 1883 it
was $13,323,592—an increase of 253 per cent. In 1857 the Church, North, had
$17,908,184 in church-buildings and parsonages. In 1883 the amount was $79,-
238,085, an increase in twenty-six years of 342 per cent. In comparing the in-
crease of Church property North and South, the comparative wealth of the two
sections will be seen by the following figures: In 1850 the taxable property (slaves
not included) of the thirteen Southern States occupied by the Church, South, was
$2,480,000,000. In 1880 the taxable property in these States was $2,370,000,000.
Showing a clear loss of real and personal estate in thirty years of $110,000,000.
In 1850 the Northern States owned (including Maryland and Delaware, where
Southern Methodism had no members) $3,473,000,000. In 1880 these States
owned $14,403,000,000. Gain in the thirty years, $10,930,000,000. Showing a
gain of 314 per cent. in thirty years. Thus it appears that the gain of 342 per
cent. in Church property by the Methodist Episcopal Church (North) was based
upon a general property increase of 314 per cent. in thirty years. On the other
hand, the gain of 258 per cent. in the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, was
made in the face of an\actual decrease of general property amounting to $110.-
000,000. (Dr. W. P. Harrison’s Centenary Year Tables.)
Fruits of Past Labors. 671

 

istered to them in slavery were set off into circuits, districts,

and Annual Conferences; and at their request were constituted

an independent body under the name chosen by themselves--—

“The Colored Methodist Episcopal Church in America.” The ,
Discipline of the parent body was adopted, without material al-

terations, and two bishops, of their own election, were ordained.*

The General Conference, which authorized this proceeding, also

ordered that all Church property that had been acquired, held,

and used for Methodist negroes in the past be turned over to

them by Quarterly Conferences and trustees.

Now was seen the fruit of a hundred years of Christian labor
and influence bestowed upon the servile population. There were
no St. Domingo scenes. Incitements and opportunities were not
wanting, and in many counties and in whole States negroes were
in the numerical majority; but there was no riot or massacre,
no wholesale pillage or insurrection. When left to themselves
the ex-slaves settled down into kind relations with their late mas-
ters and their families, and often continued in their employment
under thenew relation. A religious sentiment pervaded and dom-
inated the emancipated race, and the chief annoyance white com-
munities pretended to suffer was from endless preachings and
protracted meetings. That such a suddenly enforced and uni-
versal emancipation did not end in bloody calamity to both races
is due mainly to Christian work persistently pursued by Meth-
odists, and also by Baptists, and not wholly neglected by other
Churches in the South. The average statesman, and politician,
and historian, is slow to see this great fact, and to acknowledge
its salutary force in the problem of civil life.

One compensation of a divided family appeared—when the
Church, South, was very poor, the Northern section was en-
riched and increased in goods. In 1864 their Church Extension
Society was established in Philadelphia, through which nearly
two millions of dollars have been gathered and disbursed; tne
limit of the pastoral term was changed from two to three years;
three bishops were elected:+ all the Southland was mapped out
for occupation; and the motion to change the General Rule so ai

 

* This was done in Jackson, Tennessee, December, 1870. W. H. Miles and R.
H. Vanderhorst were ordained by Bishops Paine and McTyeire, who presided at the
Conventional General Conference.

+ Davis W. Clark, Edward Thompson, and Calvin Kingsley.
672 History of Methodism.

 

to make slave-holding a bar to membership obtained a two-thirds
majority—207 ayes, 9 nays—and this constitutional amendment
was put on its passage through the Annual Conferences, which
in due time returned a very decided three-fourths vote.*

Under the leadership of that great chief of the Bureau—
Dr. Durbin—foreign fields had been occupied and Conferences
organized in China, and India, and the North of Europe, and
their Bishops were engaged in tours of missionary visitations
round the world, at a time when the Southern Bishops were shut
up by embargo. They were célebrating the Embury Chapel f
Centenary (1866) with gifts and offerings that did honor to uni-
versal Methodism, while their less fortunate brethren were gath-
ering up the fragments and making a new start. Over eight
millions of dollars were contributed among them for various
purposes. Drew Seminary, the gift of a generous layman, dates
from that year. The wealthy sons and friends of Wesleyan
University raised its endowment to a sum that would have
seemed fabulous in the early Asburyan age; and all these per-
sonal gifts were soon exceeded by the plain, economical, pious,
Isaac Rich, of Boston, who left more than a million of dollars
for the Methodist university founded by him.

The officials of Northern Methodism, by right of influence ex-
erted and services rendered, enjoyed favor with the Federal Gov-
ernment, and this was of great advantage to them in pushing their

 

*The President’s Emancipation Proclamation (Jan. 1, 1863) anticipated the
action of the Church by about two years.

t We have seen Northern Methodism a slave-holding Church to the end of the
institution. A curious scrap of history shows a very early connection with it. J.
B. Wakely, D.D., of the New York Conference, in “ Lost Chapters recovered from
the Early History of American Methodism,” opensthe original book of official rec-
ords of Philip Embury’s Chapel. Peter Williams began in 1778 to be sexton for
John, Street Church, and was a convert of Captain Webb’s in the Rigging Loft.
Peter was a black slave, the property of one Aymar, an Englishman. Aymar be-
ing a loyalist left the country, and the trustees of the “Cradle of American Meth-
odism” bought Peter. This is the record on the “old book:”

“June 10, 1783—Paid Mr. Aymar for his negro Peter, £40.”

Peter became free afterward by self-redemption. The first credit on the “old
book” in his favor is for his watch, valued at £5. Then there are various cred-
its of less amounts, until the last is made—“ Nov. 4, 1785—By cash received of
Peter Williams, in full of all demands, £5. 7.0.” The bill of sale is very busi-
ness-like; but it does not appear that Peter got his free-papers until Oct. 20, 1796.
(See Lost Chapters, pages 450 to 467.)
Peculiar Troubles—Intruders. 673

 

lines southvard and westward. Bishop Kavanaugh was able, dur-
ing the war, to visit the Pacific Coast. He was arrested at a
camp-meeting near Stockton, and carried before the command-
er of the post at San Francisco, as a dangerous person; but on
searching his papers‘nothing worse was found than lists of quar-
terly-meetings. Southern Methodists endured more than ordina-
ry misfortunes. One thing, however, they did not look for, and
it made a deep wound. After the Federal forces had occupied
large sections of Southern territory, Bishop Ames, with preach-
ers of the Methodist Episcopal Church, followed the victorious
army with an order procured from Secretary of War Stanton,
and took forcible possession of Southern Methodist pulpits, even
to the exclusion of ministers appointed by the Church authori-
ties and desired by the congregation.* These violent pastors
held on after the war ceased, and had to be ousted, ungraceful-
ly and reluctantly. The intruder placed in Carondelet Street
Church, by Bishop Ames’s order, was got out barely in time for
the meeting of the General Conference at New Orleans.

The Church, North, adopted lay delegation, admitting two lay-
men from the larger Conferences into the General Conference,
but none into the Annual; also a plan of District Conferences.
At the Brooklyn session (1872) lay delegates took their seats, and
the unprecedented number of eight bishops was elected.

Decided improvement in jurisprudence was made at the New
Orleans session. For the last time was witnessed the tedious and

 

*Heap-quarrers, Dep't oF THE GuLF, New Orleans, Jan. 18, 1864.
Special Orders, No. 15.

In accordance with instructions contained in a letter from the Secretary of
War, under date of November 3(, 1063, all houses of worship within this Depart-
ment, belonging to the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, in which a loyal min-
ister, who has been appointed by a loyal Bishop of the said Church does uot now
officiate, are hereby placed at the disposal of the Reverend Bishop Ames. Com-
manding officers at the various points where such houses of worship may be located
are directed to extend to the ministers that may be BEES by Bishop Ames, to
conduct divine service in said houses of worship, all the®: aid, countenance, and sup-
port practicable, in the execution of their mission. Officers of the Quartermas-
ters’ Departments are authorized and directed to furnish Bishop Ames and his
clerk with transportation and subsistence, when it can be done without prejudice
to the service; and all officers will afford them courtesy, assistance, and protection.
By command of Major-general Banks.

{Thomas Bowman, W. L. Harris, R. 8. Foster, I. W. Wiley, S. M. Merrill, E
G. Andrews, Gilbert Haven, and J. T. Peck.

43
674 History of Methodism.

 

unsatisfactory trial of an appeal in open Conference. Such busi-
ness is now relegated to judicious committees, both in Annual and
General Conferences, much to the advantage of justice and de-
cency. Itwas reserved for the next session (Memphis, 1870)—in
which laymen first sat—to complete a measure which had been at-
tempted ‘and failed twice or thrice, half a century before, and
without which legislation is never secure. The General Confer.
ence is restrained by certain constitutional limitations, called Re.
strictive Rules. When and how may it be determined that any
one of those limitations has been violated? If the legislature is
the judge of these limitations to its own power, then virtually
there are no limitations. With great unanimity this point was
now settled which had been overlooked in 1808.* At this Con-
ference John ©. Keener was elected and ordained bishop, the
first to enjoy the distinction of being chosen by representatives of
the two classes he serves—preachers and people.t+
In 1871 Bishop Marvin, presiding at the West Texas Confer-
ence, ordained, and appointed to the Rio Grande, Alejo Hernan-
dez, a native of Mexico, an ex-soldier against Maximilian, and a
convert, not from Romanism, but from the infidelity to which a
reaction from Romanism often leads. He proved a chosen vessel,
and began the evangelizing work which has been developed into
the Mexican Border Mission, extending from Corpus Christi to E]
Pasv, along the Rio Grande Valley, and including, irregularly,
the territory on both sides for about a hundred miles. In that
peculiar population lying along the United States and the
Mexican frontier, and subject to strange vicissitudes of revolu-
tion, a native ministry has been raised up, churches have been
gathered, circuits and districts formed. An American was found
well adapted and willingly devoted to this hard border labor—a
“suecessor” of that small band who, in 1840, received appoint-
ments in the Republic of Texas.{ By God’s blessing upon his
faithful workmen, that wilderness may one day blossom as the
rose. If this bordes movement be carried forward into Mexico,
and make progress into the interior, it will become possible to
’ unite the Central Mexican with the Mexican Border, and organ-
ize one Conference to cover all the Mexican work.

*See foot-note on page 569, and on page 513. ft Third ballot, 184 votes—J. C.

Keener, 96; J. A. Duncan, 84.
yA. H. Sutherland, first superintendent. Hernandez, after being transferred f

the Central Mexican Mission, and making full proof of his ministry, died in 1875.
Missions in Mexico and Brazil. 675

 

The changes in the civil conditions of Mexico—its freedom
from the domination of Romanism, and its concession of liber-
ty of conscience and worship to all its citizens—stirred Bishop
Keener to inaugurate a mission there. Procuring contributions
and promises of support sufficient to justify the movement, he
visited the City of Mexico early in the year 1873 and, purchasing
property for the church, appointed Hernandez to make a begin-
ning. A year afterward he repeated his visit, taking more la-
borers, and found Protestantism making headway. Native help-
ers came forward, and by Maich, 1877, there were seventy mem-
bers, a full congregation, and the Sabbath and day schools were
kept up with a good attendance. Next year a superintendent en-
tered upon this work who organized at once a system of evangel-
istic operations, reaching to all accessible points in the States ad-
jacent to the City of Mexico.* The press was brought into requi-
sition, and the Evangelista Mexicano issued. There were reported
at the close of his first year two hundred and sixty-eight mem-
bers, twelve native preachers, and eight teachers. Generous dona-
tions have been made by individuals and societies, and considerable
Church property has been accumulated in the Republic. Reén-
forcements of men and means continue to go in that direction,
and the not distant future may see a continuous territory occupied
by the Church, South, from the western border of Texas. The
Northern branch of Methodism has entered the same field with
accustomed zeal and energy.

The reconnoissance of Brazil in 1835 was first followed up for
permanent occupation in 1876.t Many and great changes had
taken place in forty years. The intolerant despotism of the
Romish Church, in Brazil, as in Mexico, had brought on a con-
flict with the government. The Emperor was an enlightened and
cultivated man, and the higher classes and legislative bodies had
shaken themselves loose from the grasp of the priesthood, and
thrown the empire open to educational and religious enterprise.
Rio de Janeiro, the capital and commercial emporium of the em-
pire, was made the basis of operations. The popular drift was

* W. M. Patterson, D.D., from the Memphis Conference.

+John J. Ransom, of the Tennessee Conference. He arrived February 2d.
g. E. Newman, an elder of the Alabama Conference, settled in the Province of
San Paulo soon after the war; opened his mission to English-speaking people: or.
ganized a Church at Santa Barbara; and was recognized by the Board as a mission
ary in May, 1875.
676 History of Methodism.

 

toward infidelity, and the general tone was that of indifference to
religion. A small native society was gathered, and a larger num-
ber of English-speaking residents. A church has been built and
a school enterprised. Piracicaba has also been selected as a cen-
ter of operations for preaching and for religious education.

The improved condition of the Church and country in 1870,
and the wants of ‘both, called for the office of General Sunday.
school Secretary, to whom was committed the superintendence of
the entire department of Sunday-school literature.* This ‘de-
partment of publications soon became the most popular, and lu-
erative to the Publishing House. In 1882 a Church Extension.
Society was organized, whose aid was timely for the openings
in the great South-west.t+

One of the first things attempted in the new era, and the last
achieved by the Church, South, was the restoration of its literary
institutions. Some were never redpened.{ Here money was in-
exorably required—zeal, industry, patriotism, and patience,
could not attain unto it. The higher education costs more than
the average student can pay; it must rest on endowment. Six
or seven Conferences, covering a wide reach of territory and
population, undertook, in 1872, to found a university such as
would meet the wants of the Church and the country. A
convention, composed of delegates from Tennessee, Alabama,
Mississippi, Louisiana, and Arkansas, adopted a plan for such
an institution, and it was determined to take no steps toward
selecting a site, or opening any department of the institution,
until the sum of $500,000 should be obtained in valid subscrip-
tions. Of institutions of lower grade than that contemplated
it was believed there was already a supply. The effort to
raise funds demonstrated the impossibility of the enterprise.
In the judgment of its best friends the scheme was consid-
ered a failure, when Cornelius Vanderbilt, a citizen of New
York, made a donation of $500,000, which he afterward in-

* A, G. Haygood, D.D., was elected to this position, which he filled until De-
cember, 1875, when he resigned, and was succeeded by W.G. E. Cunnyngham, D.D.

+D. Morton, D.D., Secretary, has made an excellent showing for the first year’s
operations of this new arm of the service, domiciled at Louisville.

t Trinity College, North Carolina, and the South-western University, George-
town, Texas, with a strong combination of patronizing Conferences, belong to the
new era. The first succeeded Normal, the second superseded Soule College.

 
Munificent Gifts for Education. 677

 

creased to $1,000,000; and subsequently his son, William H.
Vanderbilt, made a donation of $250,000, to provide a further
outfit, and to increase the permanent endowment to $700,000. In
West Nashville the senior Superintendent, Bishop Paine, on his
way to the General Conference of 1874, attended by numerous
delegates, laid the corner-stone; and with full faculties, a univer-
sity of six departments, including theology, was formally opened
in October, 1875. The Founder concluded his final communi-
eation to the President of the Board of Trust, expressing ap-
proval of the organization of the university, with these words:
“And if it shall, through its influence contribute, even in the
smallest degree, to strengthen the ties which should exist be-
tween all geographical sections of our common country, I shall
feel that it has accomplished one of the objects that led me to
take an interest in it.”* Several years later George I. Seney, of
New York, by a donation of $260,000 to Emory College and
Wesleyan Female College,t Georgia, greatly enlarged, beautified,
and strengthened those institutions. Education prospered great-
ly in the other branch of Episcopal Methodism, and they often
had occasion, both on account of the inroads of death and be-
cause their work was enlarging, to bring forward new men and
strong, to posts of responsibility.t

The General Conference, with gratitude for the signs of pros-
perity on every side, met in Nashville, 1882. The Head of the
Church had blessed their labors, more than restored all their
losses, and given them peace. Alpheus Wilson, Linus Parker,
Atticus G. Haygood,§ John C. Granbery, and Robert K. Har-
grove, were elected bishops. The ordination sermon was preached
by Bishop Kavanaugh, who, in less than two years, received the

 

* “Commodore” Vanderbilt was not a member of the Church, but his mother was
a Moravian, of Staten Island, whose memory he revered; and his wife (by second
marriage) a Methodist, of Mobile. Consulting with one of the Southern Bishops,
through whom he made his donation, he said—referring to the Lennox Library,
then going up: “It is the style, when a man builds a college or library, to put it
down here, where there are plenty. I will put this where it is needed.”

+ This institution is believed to be the oldest in the United States, perhaps in
the world, established upon the plan of a regular college, with authority to confer
degrees upon women. Mr. Seney, its benefactor, is a Methodist, and the son of
an itinerant of the old panel. 7

{In 1880 H. W. Warren, C. D. Foss, J. F. Hurst, and E. O. Haven, were elect.
ed bishops. In 1884, Drs. Ninde, Walden, Fowler, and Mallalieu. @ Declined.
678 History of Methodism.

 

summons to enter the joy of his Lord, while in the pulpit, in
his eighty-second year. Bishop Paine conducted his last public
service in laying hands upon his younger brethren, and com-
mitting to them a charge which he, for thirty-six years, had ful-
filled with spotless fidelity.and the most eminent ability.

Since 1878 a new power has entered the field; it was then rec.
ognized—the Woman’s Missionary Society. Moved by the re-
ports of the success of women as Bible-readers in heathen lands,
and as helpers in domestic missions, the godly women of South-
ern Methodism, upon the first opportunity, undertook this er-
rand of mercy in various cities, beginning at Baltimore; and at
Atlanta they were ready for combination and codperation. Effi-
ciently have they planned and acted, so that both impulse and
breadth have been given to operations in China, in Brazil, and on
the Mexican Border. Working in agreement with the Board of
Missions, they yet keep up a separate management, which is stim-
ulating the spirit and enlarging the field of missions.

Bishop Marvin (1876-7) visited China, strengthened the hands
of the missionaries, and bore a testimony concerning the field
that caused a quickened interest throughout the Church, and a
steady increase of its forces. He ordained native preachers, aud
returned after a year’s absence; but he was not permitted to
make his report to the ensuing General Conference. Before his
lamented death, however, he had published an account of his
tour, which still speaks to the churches.

The busy laborers disappear from the scene. “God buries his
workmen, but carries on his work.” Capers, the Chrysostom of
Methodism, has long since fallen on sleep; and Soule and An-
drew and Early—whose sixty years of labor in his native Vir-
ginia associated him closely with all its material and spiritual
development. The Church has mourned more recently for the
eloquent and useful Wightman and Doggett. Lovick Pierce, in
his ninety-fifth year, died; but so pervasive was the influence of
that pure and powerful life, he seems yet to live. And the late
death of his son, the senior Bishop of the Church, was the great
loss and sorrow of American Methodism.
R.K.HARGROVE L.PARKER.
[ Saran
mera rt

 

 

 

 

 

 
CHAPTER XLVII.

the Era of Fraternity: Correspondence Anent it—Deputations—Delegates—
Joint Commission at Cape May—Status and Basis Definitely Declared—Prop-
erty Claims Adjusted—Ecumenical Conference—City Road Chapel—London
Methodists—Centenary Celebration at Baltimore—From 1784 to 1884.

HE last letter John Wesley wrote to America was to Ezekiel
Cooper, and contained these words: “Lose no opportunity
of declaring to all men that the Methodists are one people in all
the world, and that it is their full determination so to continue.”
The grand depositum of Wesleyan doctrine is common to them
all, under whatever name or in whatever region they proclaim it;
the same enemies oppose, and the same standards are appealed to;
the same historical names and facts are cherished by them all.
AV hatever differences may exist between the various branches of
this ecclesiastical family, they are nearer to each other than they
can be to other people. “I ama Methodist” awakes strong sym-
pathies and affinities, and is associated with a fellowship, doc-
trines, experience, usages, means of grace, peculiar to this form
of Christianity, and dear to every one who has enjoyed them.
‘Notwithstanding occasional personal offenses against the unity
of the Spirit, and improper associate acts and utterances, many
waters cannot quench the love of the Spirit.

Efforts at formal fraternal relations were broken off at the
reactionary General Conference of 1848. There the messenger
of peace from the South, being rejected, left the proposition:

You will therefore regard this communication as final on the part of the Meth-
odist Episcopal Church, South. She can never renew the offer of fraternal rela-
tions between the two great bodies of Wesleyan Methodists in the United States,
But the proposition can be renewed at any time, either now or hereafter, by the
Methodist Episcopal Church; and if ever made upon the basis of the Plan of
Separation, as adopted by the General Conference of 1844, the Church, South, will
cordially entertain the propo jition.

And there it rested for over twenty years. In May, 1869, the
Southern Bishops, at their annual meeting in St. Louis, were
waited upon by a deputation, consisting of Bishops Janes and
Simpson, conveying a communication. These distinguished

brethren brought, officially, a letter of recent date from their
(679)
680 History of Methodism.

 

| colleagues, saying: “It seems to us that as the division of those
Churches of our country which are of like faith and order has
been productive of evil, so the reunion of them would be pro.
ductive of good. As the main cause of the separation has been
emoved, so has the chief obstacle to the restoration.
e are aware that there are difficulties in the way; growing out
f the controversies of the past and the tempers of the present.
We have, therefore, deputed our colleagues to confer with you,
alike as to the propriety, practicability, and methods of reunion.”
‘They also reported their declaration made and published in Erie,
Pa., June, 1865: “That the great cause which led to the sep-
aration from us of both the Wesleyan Methodists of this coun-
; try and of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, has passed
“away, and we trust the day is not far distant when there shall ba
\but one organization, which shall embrace the whole Methodist
family in the United States.” This declaration, they added, was
referred to in the Quadrennial Address to their late General
| Conference, “and no exception was taken to it by that body.”

The interview was a pleasant one, but brief, and the deputa-
tion as suddenly left the city as it came. The College of Bish-
ops had now an offer of reunion on their hands, and no ques-
tions or explanations with the other party possible. To indi-
cate a prompt refusal, or that the proposition was under consider-
ation, would be alike hurtful—the public mind was so ready for
misconception on that subject. They replied at sufficient length
to be understood. A generation had grown up ignorant of the
question at issue; and here was an opportunity to get a good hear-

Ang of the matter, both in the Northern and Southern papers.
They therefore courteously reminded the brethren that fraternal
feelings and relations must, in the nature of the case, be estab-

~lished before any question of reunion can be entertained. “ Heart
divisions must be cured before corporate division can be healed;
and referring to the well-known failure of their delegate:

You auld not expect us to say less than this—that the words of our rejected
delegate have been ever since, and still are, our words. It may help to the more
speedy and certain attainment of the ends we both desire, to keep distinctly in
mind our mutual positions, and to hold the facts involved in our common history
inaclear light. You say “that the great cause which led to the separation from
ns of both the Wesleyan Methodists of this country and of the Methodist Episco-

pal Church, South, has passed away.” If we understand your reference, we so far
differ from you in this opinion that it may help any negotiations hereafter taking
Correspondence on Fraternity. 681

 

place to restate our position. Slavery was not, in any proper sense, the cause, hut

the occasion only, of that separation, the necessity of which we regretted as much as
you. But certain principles were developed in relation to the political aspects of
_that question, involving the right of ecclesiastical bodies to handle and determine

matters lying outside of their Proper “jurisdiction, which we CO > could not. not accept} < and
in a case : arising, certain constructions of the constitutional powers and_preroga-
tives of the General Conference were assumed and acted on, which we considered
oppressive and destructive of the rights of the numerical minority represented in
that highest judicatory of the Church. That which you are pleased to call—no
doubt sincerely thinking it so—“the great cause” of separation existed in the
Church from its organization, and yet for sixty years there was no separation.
But when those theories, incidentally evolved in connection with it, began to be
put into practice, then the separation came.

We cannot think you mean to offend us when you speak of _our having sepa-
rated from you, and put us in the same category with a small body of schismatics
who were always an acknowledged secession. Allow us, in all kindness, breth-
ren, to remind you, and to keep the important fact of history prominent, that we
separated from you in no sense in which you did not separatefrom-us. The a

dration was by compact and mutual; and nearer approaches to each other can be
conducted, with hope of a successful issue, only on this basis.

They respectfully disclaimed authority or disposition to say any
thing on the “propriety, practicability, and methods of reunion.”

This correspondence was spread before both Churches, and
did good. (1 was something for brethren estranged to meet,
and to speak candidly.) Several local and individual fraternity
movements were tried without success. The Baltimore Con-
ference (South) being in session, March, 1870, the Baltimore
Conference (North) appointed two fraternal delegates to it; men
personally most estimable aud beloved. But the Conference
declined to receive them in their official character, and rejected
the overture, on the principle that the General and not the An-
nual Conferences of the two Connections have the right and pow-
er properly to institute fraternal relations. ——

Bishop Janes and Rev. Dr. W. L. Harris appeared before the
General Conference at Memphis, in 1870, with credentials from a
commission created by the Northern General Conference of 1868,
“to treat with a similar commission from any other Methodist
Church on the subject of union.” They were heard, and their
communication referred to a select committee, which reported
“that the distinguished commission now present” were ap-
pointed and empowered, according to the journal of their Gen-
eral Conference, “to treat with similar commissions” from those
Methodist Churches that “desired union” with the Church
682 History of Methodism.

 

North; and therefore the commission could not, “without great
violence in construing language,” be regarded as accredited to
the Church, South; and “that if they were fully clothed with
authority to treat with us for union, it is the judgment of this
Conference that the true interests of the Church of Christ re-
quire and demand the maintenance of our separate and distinct
organization;” and “that we tender to the members of the com-
niission our high regards as brethren beloved in the Lord, an
express our desire that the day may soon come when proper
Christian sentiments and fraternal relations between the two i
great branches of Northern and Southern Methodism shall be/
permanently established.”’

The report of this committee was adopted unanimously, in-
cluding this declaration: “That the action of our Bishops, in re-
sponse to the message from the Bishops of the Methodist Epis-
copal Church, has the full indorsement of this General Confer-
ence, and accurately defines our position in reference to any
overtures which may proceed from that Church, having in them
an official and proper recognition of this body.”

At the General Conference of 1874, convened in Louisville,
three fraternal delegates appeared, duly commissioned from the
General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church.* After
mutual introductions to those on the platform, their credentials
were read. The President then introduced them to the Confer-
ence, and they delivered addresses, of which the journal says
they “were characterized by excellent taste, and warm, fraternal
sentiments, which were well received by the Conference and the
immense audience in attendance.” The delegates were treated
most hospitably while they remained, and on their taking leave
appropriate resolutions were adopted. Considering the whole
matter of fraternity as brought before them in the credentials
and the addresses of the delegates,+ the General Conference said:

 

* Albert S. Hunt, D.D., Charles H. Fowler, D.D., and General Clinton B. Fisk.

+1 e action of the General Conference in Brooklyn (1872) was partially incor-
porated in the certificate of the delegates, in the following terms: “To place our-
selves in the truly fraternal relations toward our Southern brethren which the senti-
ments of our people demand, and to prepare the way for the opening of formal fra-
ternity with them, it is hereby resolved that this General Conference will appoint
a delegation, consisting of two ministers and one layman, to convey our fraternal
greetings to the General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South
at its next ensuing session.” ,
Delegates and Commissioners Appointed. 683

 

Measures preparatory to formal fraternity would be defective that leave out of\
view questions in dispute between the Methodist Episcopal Church and ourselves.
These questions relate to the course pursued by some of their accredited agents
whilst prosecuting their work in the South, and to property which has been taken
and held by them to this day against our protest and remonstrance. Although
feeling ourselves sorely aggrieved in these things, we stand ready to meet our
brethren of the Methodist Episcopal Church in the spirit of Christian candor, and
to compose all differences upon the principles of justice and equity. 7

It is to be regretted that the honored representatives who bore fraternal greet-
ings to us were not empowered also to enter upon a settlement of these vexed
questions. We are prepared to take advanced steps in this direction, and, waiv-
ing any considerations which might justify a greater reserve, we will not only ap-
point a delegation to return the greetings so gracefully conveyed to us from the
Methodist Episcopal Church, but we will also provide for a commission to meet a
similar commission from that Church for the ‘purpose of settling disturbing ques-
tions. Open and righteous treatment of all cases of complaint will furnish the
only solid ground upon which we can meet. Relations of amity are, with speciai
emphasis, demanded between bodies so near akin. We be brethren. To the re-
alization of this the families of Methodism are called by the movements of the
times. The attractive power of the cross is working mightily. The Christian el-
ements in the world are all astir in their search for each other. Christian hearts
are crying to each other across vast spaces, and longing for fellowship. The heart
of Southern Methodism being in full accord with these sentiments:

Resolved, That this General Conference has received with pleasure the fraternal
greetings of the Methodist Episcopal Church, conveyed to us by their delegates;
and that our College of Bishops-be, and are hereby, authorized to appoint a dele-
gation, consisting of two ministers and one layman, to bear our Christian saluta-
tions to their next ensuing General Conference.

Resolved, That, in order to remove all obstacles to formal fraternity between th»
twe Churches, our College of Bishops is authorized to appoint a commission, con-
sisting of three ministers and two laymen, to meet a similar commission author-
ized by the General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and to adjust
all existing difficulties.

Accordingly delegates were appointed, who had a hearty re-
ception at the General Conference of the other branch of Epis-
copal Methodism, in 1876: commissioners were also appointed.*
These last were promptly met by commissioners from the other
branch, clothed with equal powers.t The Joint Commission
met at Cape May, August 17-23, 1876, and after prayerful and
patient deliberation unanimously agreed upon terms, which were
accepted as a finality by the ensuing General Conferences of both

 

* Fraternal delegates: Lovick Pierce, D.D., James A. Duncan, D.D., and Lan-
don C. Garland, LL.D. Commissioners: E. H. Myers, D.D., R. K. Hargrove, D.D.,
T. M. Finney, DD., Hon. R. B. Vance, Hon. David Clopton.

+M. DC. Crawford, D.D., J. P. Newman, D.D., E. Q. Fuller, D.D., General (.
B. Fisk, Hon, E. L. Fancher.
684 History of Methodism.

 

Churches. Conflicting claims to property were adjudicated by
the Joint Commission both on general principles and in special
cases; and directions were laid down, regulating the occupation
of places as well as property, and it will be well for the peace
of both parties and the honor of Christianity if they be well ob.
served. In the beginning of their labors the Joint Commission
adopted, without a dissentient voice, this basis and declaration
of the relations of the two Churches:

Stitus of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South,
and their codrdinate relations as legitimate branches of Episcopal Methodism :

Each of said Churches is a legitimate branch of Episcopal Methodism in the
United States, having a common origin in the Methodist Episcopal Church organ-
ized in 1784; and since the organization of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South,
was consummated in 1846, by the voluntary exercise of the right of the Southern
Annual Conferences, ministers and members, to adhere to that Communion, it has
been an evangelical Church, reared on scriptural foundations, and her ministers
and members, with those of the Methodist Episcopal Church, have constituted one
Methodist family, though in distinct ecclesiastical Connections.

The suggestion was thrown out; it grew into a general assem-
bly of all the sons of Wesley—an Ecumenical Methodist Confer-
ence. Arrangements were completed for representatives from
both hemispheres. As to the place of meeting no second opin-
ion was heard, all feeling that for the first general assembly of
the bands into which the United Societies of John Wesley had
spread, no other spot could offer a scene so fitting as that City
Road Chapel which had formed the principal center of his la-
bors, and close to which his course had been finished and his
dust laid. Of four hundred clerical and lay delegates one-half
was to be chosen by churches in Europe with their missions,
and one-half by churches in America with their missions. Fri-
day, the 5th of August, 1881, was observed as a day of special
prayer, on behalf of the approaching Conference.

On Wednesday, the 7th of September, the delegated breth-
ren were assembled in the appointed place. They represented
twenty-eight different denominations, and about five millions of
living members, who preached or heard the gospel in thirty lan-
guages. They came from England, Ireland, Scotland, France,
Germany, Italy, Norway, Sweden, Switzerland, Africa, India,
China, Japan, Australia, New Zealand, Polynesia, and from all
sections of the United States, from Canada, Nova Scotia, New
Brunswick, South America, and the West Indies.
The Ecumenical Conference. 685

 

The opening sermon was preached by the senior Bishop of the
Methodist Episcopal Church,* after which the sacrament of the
Lord’s Supper was administered to the Conference. The address
of welcome was made by the President of the Wesleyan Confer-
ence.t Concluding, he said: “‘What hath God wrought?’
That was John Wesley’s text when he laid the foundation of
this chapel. I was curious enough to ask myself how many
Methodists there were in the world at that time, and the total
number, including America, was a little more than forty-four
thousand. Hereisa good stand-point by means of which we can
measure, to some extent at least, what God has wrought for us
and by us—forty-four thousand and a few more, including Amer-
ica—a hundred years ago. To-day we speak of millions. We
do not know what millions are; very few of us, by experience
and observation, have been able to realize the idea of a million;
but still we speak of millions, and we do not speak without the
book when we speak of millions gathered at this day, by our
humble instrumentality and that of our fathers, to our fellow-
ship, and training under our care for the best of all fellowships
at the right-hand of God. In repeating the welcome, which it
was my official duty to offer to this Conference, I may fall back
upon the words of Charles Wesley—for I have almost learned
to think. in them, and I have found few words more eminently
adapted to the promotion of vital godliness. One of his earli.
est compositions is headed, ‘On Receiving a Christian Friend,’
Té stands in the singular, but we can easily adapt it:

Welcome, friends, in that great Name,
Whence our every blessing flows;

Enter, and increase the flame,
Which in all our bosoms glows.”

For two weeks the assembly continued, during which the com-
munion of saints was practically taught and personally realized
Sundays were given to devotion, and the week-day sessions to
discussion, by prepared papers and freer conversations, on the
great topics that engage the heads and hearts and hands of Wes-
leyans everywhere; the sum of which is—spreading scriptural
holiness over all lands. It was well remarked by one of the

 

* Bishop Simpson, whose lamented death is announced while these pages are
going through the press. George Osborn, D.D., President of Richmond Col
lege (theological), London.

.258
686 History of Methodism.

 

speakers on the last day: “Methodism is admitted to be, in its
ground-plan and in its structure, of all Church systems the clos-
est in texture and the most cohesive. Its original structure was,
that of UNITED socIETIES. No other Church has such a concat-
enation of appliances for binding its members together. It is,
in fact as in name, a Connectizn, bound and fastened together
by class-meetings, ldve-feasts, leaders’ meetings, quarterly-meet-
ings, district-meetings, Conferences, the community of minis-
ters which the itinerancy secures, affiliated Conferences, fra-
ternal Conferences, and now the top stone is at last brought on
with shouting—the Ecumenical Conference.”

The entertainment of this company devolved upon the English
Methodists, and nothing was left undone by those who keep the
old homestead to make the family reunion pleasant and edify-
ing. It was a love-feast of nations, and the members sepa-
rated with a greater love for the Head of the Church, and for
that Christian family of which they formed a part, greater love
for each other, and for all who loved the Lord Jesus Christ, of
every clime, and a greater hope for the conversion of the world.
Before adjournment another Ecumenical Conference was ar-
ranged for, to be held on the western side of the Atlantic.

While this record of the rise and progress of Methodism is
being finished, notes of preparation are heard in the land. A
hundred years ago the Christmas Conference was held. Then
the Church was organized with eighty-three preachers and fif-
teen thousand members, which now numbers the former by thou-
sands and the latter by millions. The times favor a Centen-
nial Celebration, and as to the place of meeting, Baltimore has
no rival. The graves of Asbury and Lee are there, and not far
away sleeps the noble Strawbridge. And there, as from a mount
.of vision, may the people called Methodists, grateful for what
God has done for them and by them in the past, catch an in-
spiring view of what God will do for them and by them, if
faithful to their principles, in the next HUNDRED YEARS.

Finis.
APPENDIX.

METHODISTS THROUGHOUT THE WORLD.
EpiscopaL METHopIsts IN THE UNITED STATES.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Itinerant Local Lay
Cuurcues. Preachers. | Preachers. | Members.
Methodist Episcopal Church............... 12,647 12,026 1,769,534
Methodist Episcopal Church, South........ 4,126 5,892 894,132
African Methodist Episcopal (Bethel) Church 1,832 9,760 391,044
African Methodist Episcopal (Zion) Church. 2,000 2,750 300,000
Colored Methodist Episcopal Church....... 1,046 683 155,000
Evangelical Association.............+00-+5 953 599 119,758
United Brethren....... ..... cece eee eee 1,257 963 159,547
Union American Methodist Episcopal Church 112 40 3,500
"| 23,978 32,713 3,792,515
Non-EpiscopaL METHODISTS IN THE UNITED STATES.
Methodist Protestant Church.............. 1,358 1,010 123,054
American Wesleyan Church............-.. 267 215 23,590
Free Methodist Church............05. aan 263 326 12,719
Primitive Methodist Church............... 27 162 3,716
Independent Methodist Church ........... 25 27 6,000
Congregational Methodists..............06]  seeeee 23 20,000
1,940 1,763 188,079
METHODISTS IN CANADA. }
The Methodist Church of Canada.......... 1,316 1,261 | 128,644
Methodist Episcopal Church of Canada..... 259 \ 265 25,671
Primitive Methodist Church.............. 89 246 8,090
Bible Christian Church.............-00005 79 197 7,398
British Methodist Episcopal Church, colored 45 20 2,100
1,688 1,979 171,903
MeruHopists In Great BriTaIn anp Missions.
British Wesleyan Methodists in Great Britain 1,917 14,183 441,484
British Wesleyan Methodists in Missions.... BOO! | csresorerses 70,747
Primitive Methodists...........00-eeeeees 1,147 15,982 196,480
New Connection Methodists............+-- 188 1,271 29,299
United Free Methodists............20e000 391 3,417 84,152
Wesleyan Reform Union.............50005 551 | ...... 8,663
Bible Christians (including Australia) 228 1,909 28,624
Welsh Calvinistic Methodists.............. 207 234 58,577
Countess of Huntingdon’s Connection.......] .sesee | eeeeee 19,159
5,014 36,996 937,186
WESLEYAN AFFILIATING CONFERENCES.
Trish Wesleyan Conference.........-..++-- 239 | .cceee 25,050
French Wesleyan Conference.......-..++- L9G, |? ciaserecovs 2,024
Australian Conference.........2eeeereeees 449 — 4,480 69,392
South African Conference......+.+.sseeee- LOT. scserersces 26,038
1,051 4,480 126,504
Grand Total....-.-.eeeeeeeeeeeeees ~-! 33,666 77,931 5,216,184

 

 

(687)
ose

Appendix,

 

RELIGIOUS DENOMINATIONS IN THE UNITED STATES.
The census of 1880, so far as the statistics of Churches are concerned, has not

yet appeared in print.

From the census of 1870 the following table is taken.

When Methodism began in America the Protestant Episcopal Church had been
on the ground for one hundred and sixty years. Congregationalism followed in
1620, when the Mayflower landed with an organized Church. The Baptists, if
dating no farther back in America than Roger Williams, may be reckoned from

1639, and the kresbyterians from 1684.

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

. Organi-|_. ayy
DENOMINATIONS. zations.|Edifices.| Sittings. Property.
Baptist (regular)............eeseeee> 14,174] 12,857) 3,997,116} $39,229,991
Baptist (other).....-........-200- +.| 1,855) = 1,105 363,019 2,378,997
CBPISHA Ds .yss2cc:osecsuadstinicecrsacunclecia 2a 3,578] 2,822 865,602 6,425,137
Congregational...........cesseeeeee 2,887} 2,715| 1,117,212) 25,069,698
Episcopal (Protestant)............005 2,835} 2,601 991,051] 36,514,549
Evangelical Association............. 815 641 193,796 2,301,650
Friend 8) owes eisarnveimnreeaaay vee eats 692 662 224,664 3,939,560
JOWIShiss.ssienetwaeumecmeicesease 2 189 152 73,265 5,155,234
Jantherans..::.0se.vuesnewsaawsset ies 3,032) 2,766 977,332} 14,917,747
Methodist «2:05 ssaccxucmemasioaeiees ts 25,278) 21,337] 6,528,209] 69,854,121
Miscellaneous ...........0..eeeeeees 27 17 6,935 135,650
Moravian (Unitas Fratrum).......... 72 67 25,700 709,100
OB TO Wsenas hus iaceysaos stay sevostcane eusceaonsvosecets 189 171 87,838 656,750
New Jerusalem (Swedenborgian)...... 90 61 18,755 869,700
Presbyterian (regular)..............+ 6,262} 5,683] 2,198,900] 47,828,732
Presbyterian (other) ............00- 1,562} 1,388 499,344 5,436,524
Reformed Church in America....... - 471 468) 227,228) 10,359,255
Reformed Church in United States...| 1,256] 1,145 431,700 5,775,215
Roman Catholic...............0000- 4,127; 3,806] 1,990,514) 60,985,566
Second Advent..........sseeeseeeee 225 140 34,555 06,240
Shaker «.scesisiavesaveseeonse swine 18 18 8,850 86,900
Spiritualist. ......... sia eltreexsretoranstad 95 22 6,970 100,150
NIPATI AN sccecte.sa\ shrek eae titers 331 310 155,471 6,282,675
United Brethren in Christ........... 1,445 937 265,025 1,819,810
Universalists..............2.0-200 08 719 602 210,884 5,692,325
Unknown (local missions)........... 26 27 11,925 687,800
Unknown (union).............0000 409 562 153,202 965,295
All denominations................ 72,459] 63,082| 21,665,062) $354,483,581
From the last figures the “ Methodist Year-book” makes the following exhibit:

Total Methodists..............00005 27,538| 22,915| 7,455,937| $73,975,581
Total Baptists (all kinds)............ 15,829) 13,962) 4,360,135} 41,608,198
Total Presbyterians...............-5 7,824) 7,070) 2,698,244} 53,265,256
Total Congregationalists............ 2,887} 2,715) 1,117,212} 25,069,698
Total Protestant Episcopal.......... 2,835) 2,601 991,051} 36,514,549
Total Roman Catholic............+. 4,127} 3,806] 1,900,514] 60,985,566
, Ministers, Members.

Tutal Methodists in the United States .............. 23,839* 3,993,724
Total Baptists (North and South) .........- ee eeene . 19,246 2,552,129
Total Presbyterians (North and South)............4. 8,898 1,002,944
Total Congregationalists......... 00.0 ceeereeeeeeens 3,723 387,619
Total Protestant Episcopal ..........cceeeeeeceeaes 3,630 313,889

 

 

 

* Exclusive of 34,714 local preachers, many of them ordained.
INDEX.

ABINGDON, Maryland, 372.

Abolition movement a failure, 619.

Abolitionism, 601.

Adams, John, 264.

African Methodist Episcopal Church, 564.

Alabama, Methodism in, 623; Colleges in, 658.

Alexander, Robert, 613, 614.

Alleghany College, 595.

Allen, Beverly, 357.

Allen, Richard, &65.

Andrew, Jas. O., 585; elected bishop, 591; 623.

Annesley, Dr. Sam’], 20, note; his preaching, 133.

Annual Conference, first held, 211, 284.

Anti-Methodist literature, 1382.

Apostolical succession, 397.

Appointing power discussed, 405.

Arminian Magazine, 416.

Arminian Methodism planted, 261.

Articles of Religion, 350.

Asbury, Francis, 274, 280, 289, 293, 305; meets
Bishop Coke, 346; elected bishop, 248; 354,
365, 368, 381; in New England, 427-448; 469;
proposes to nominate episcopal colleagues,
470 ;. 471, 475, 477, 495, 528; death, 531.

Asbury Manual Labor School, 579.

Attendance at anti-slavery conventions, Meas-
ures against, 611.

Augusta College, 567.

Augusta, Ga., 475.

Axley, James, 555.

Ayres, David, 614.

Batrimorg, Asbury in, 300.

Band societies, 200.

Bangs, Nathan, 423, 567, 601.

Baptists persecuted in Virginia, 250,

Barnes, Nathan, 503.

Bascom, Henry B., 644; elected bishop, 655.

Saxter, John, 326,

Beau Nash and John Wesley, 157.

Bennett, John, 228.

Benson, Joseph, the commentator, 246.

Bermuda Islands, Whitefieid in, 236.

Berridge, John, 228,

Bethel College, 440, 448; failure of, 449.

Birchett, Henry, 446.

Bishop Andrew’s case, 622.

Bishop and Superintendent, 392; Watson on,
395; Dixon on, 395; Luther and Hoadley, 396.

Bishop of Losdon, 170.

Bishop’s Address, the first, 527. 3

Bishops electea, in 1854, 659; in 1866, 669; in
1882, 677.

Black Harry, 346.

Blackman, Learner, 503. |

Blendon, home of Delamotte family, 117.

Boardman, Richard, 257, 279, 281, 286.

Bodily exercises, 159.

Boehm, Henry, 435, 525, 533.

Béhler, Peter, in London, 10%; account of, 111-
118; 188.

Bolingbroke, Lord, 238.

Bolzius, John Martin, 90.

Book Agents elected, 528, 644.

Book Concern, 311, 535; burned, 617.

Books, Publication of, 223.

Boring, Jesse, 652.

Boston, Methodism in, 428.

Boundaries of An. Conferences established, 464.

Bowman, Elisha W., 549

Bowman, Matthew, 540.

44

 

British America, Refusal to elect F. Garrettsoa
a bishop for, 391.

Broughton, Secretary, 80, 81

Brown, David, 509.

Bruce, Philip, 312.

Buckingham, Duchess of, 242.

Burke, William, 448, 452, 466.

Burnett, Bishop, 30.

Butler, Bishop, 31.

CairorNnia, Methodism in, 652.

Calvinism, Leaning toward, 333,

Camp-meetings, Beginning of, 490.

Canada Conference, 575; Methodism in, 532.

Canterbury, Archbishop of, reproved, 247.

Canu, Theresa, 547, .

Capers, Wm., 414, 575,588; elected bishop, 644

Carden, Commissary, suspends Whitefield, 235

Carlton, Dr. Thomas, 665.

Centenary of Methodism, 617.

Central College, 659.

Chapel, First, 165.

Charles I., 25; IL., 27.

Charleston, Whitefield in, 234; difficult field
355; 361; Dissension in, 413; An. Conf. in, 472

Chartered Fund, 465.

Checote, Samuel, 580, note; Cherokee Mission,
582, note.

Chesnut College, survivor of Trevecca House

Chesterfield, Lord, 237.

China Mission, 654, note.

Christian Advocates, 575, 596, 603.

Christian Church, 411.

Christian perfection, 307, 327.

Christmas Conference, 348, 379.

Church Constitution established, 514.

Church extension begun, 353; Board of, 676

Civil war, 664.

Clark, Francis, 438.

Class-meetings, 201.

Clayton, Rev. Mr., 76.

Clergymen aiding Mr. Wesley, 218.

Clergymen suing for salaries in Virginia, 251.

Coke, Thomas, 338; ordained bishop, 342; 345
361; missionary character, 382, 465; 471
marriage, 515; letter to Bishop White, 515
516; his missions, 518; death, 518.

Cokesbury College, 368, 372.

Cole, Le Roy, 311.

Colored Methodist Episcopal Church, 671.

Commissioners ‘for Church property, 644; Fra.
ternity, 683.

Committee of Nine, 636.

Conference, Annual. First, held in London,211
in Bristol, 213; Third, 214.

Conventicle Act, 16.

Convention, Hpiseopals in Virginia, 319.

Cook, Valentine, 448.

Cooper, Ezekiel, 417.

Cornwall, Methodism in, 208.

Course of study provided, 536.

Cox, Philip, 484.

Coxe, Mellville B., 592.

Cradle of American Methodism, 253.

Crawford, A. J., 582.

Cromwell, Oliver, 26, 27.

Cumberland Gap, 442.

* Dark AND BLoopy Grounp,” 443.
Dartmouth, Wesley’s Letter to Lord, 290.

(689)
690

Index.

 

David, Christian, at Herrnhut, 110, 142, 144,
Davies, Samuel, licensed to preach, 233.
Davis, John, 623.

Debate in 1844, 626-635.

Deed of Declaration, 340,

Delamoite, Charles, 73, 89.

Delegated General Conference, negatived, 479,
605; adopted, 613; First, 527; Third, 567;
Fourth, 570.

Dempster, James, 280.

Dickins, John, 311, 472.

Discipline, Rules of, 350; Book of, 371, 409.

District Conferences, 668.

Dobbin, Dr., quoted, 419.

Déber’s, Martin, views of faith, 143.

Doddridge, Dr., quoted, 165.

Doggett, David 8., 655; elected bishop, 669.

Dougherty, George, 509.

Drake, Benjamin M., 548.

Dromgoole, Edward, 309.

Durbin, John P., 596, 663.

Durham, John, 438.

Eas y, JOHN, 643, 644, 655; elected bishop, 659,

Earnest’s, Felix, Conference at, 453.

Easter, John, 312, 482.

Ecumenical Conference in London, 684,

Edisto Circuit, 360.

Elizabeth, Queen, 24.

Ellis, Reuben, 311.

Ellison, husband of Susanna Wesley, 67.

Emancipation in the West Indies, 619,

Embury, Philip, 254,

Emory, John, 567, 592.

Emory College, 658.

Emory and Henry College, 658.

English Reformation, 23.

Episcopacy, by divine right, first taught, 324;
lows expreseed in 1844, 624; Wesley's views
of, 324.

Epworth, Rectory of, 21, 37.

Evangelical or Low-church element, 249.

Evans, David, first society in his house, 254,

Fata, Degrees in, 127.

“ Father Simeon,” 446.

Fellowships, English, 64. __ : i
Fetter Lane Society, 167; Dissensions in, 173-

Field-preaching, 149, 160, 154.

Finley, James B., 678, 628.

First General Conference of Southern Meth-
odism, 643. 7 :

First Methodist Church in America, 253.

Fisk, Wilbur, 433, 596; elected bishop, but de-
clined, 601.

Fletcher, John, 246, 336.

Ford, John, 541.

Foreign Missions, 653.

Formalism in the Church of England, 23.

Foster, James, 357.

Foundry purchased, 168.

Fowler, Littleton, 614.

Franklin and Whitefield, 190.

Fraternal delegates, 616. ed

Fraternity, Era of, 679; commissioners, 683.

Frederica, 88, 90, 91; Reasons for C. Wesley’s
failure at, 91,92, aes

Freedom, Beligions, in Virginia, 252.

French, John, 542.

GaMBOLD, JOHN, 57, 59, 77.
Garrettson, Freeborn, 273, 310, 317, 368, 390.
Gatch, Philip, 309, 458. :
General Conference, The First, 348; 404, 464,
476, 505, 511, 527, 620, 666, 667, 676. .
George, Enoch, 485; elected bishop, 537; 568.
George L., 30; II., 30; IIL, letter to Archbish-
op of Canterbury, 247.
Georgia Conference, 363,
Georgia, Province of, 72.

Germans, Methodism among the, 593.

| Indian

 

Ghost story, The, 49.

Gibson, Randal 500,

Gibson, Tobias, 462, 500,

Gilbert, Nathanael, 326, 377,

Glenn, James E., 523.

Gough, Henry Dorsey, 300,

Gowns and bands oppeoeds 372,
Granbery, John C., elected bishop, 677.
Green, J. R., quoter, 33, 35, 36.

Green Hill’s, Conference at, 356.
Griffin, Thomas, 644,

Griffith, Alfred, 623.

Grimshaw, incumbent of Haworth, 218.
Gwin, James, 497.

Gwynne, Marmaduke, of Wales, 220,

Hatt, husband of Martha Wesley, 70, 81, 82.

Hall, Mrs. Martha, 69, 70.

Hamilton, Dr., quoted, 254.

Hamline, L. L., 631; elected bishop, 639.

Hammett, William, 414.

Harding case in 1844, 620.

Hargrove, Robert K., elected bishop, 677.

Harper, Miles, 540,

Harris, Howell, 237.

Hasty legislation checked, 569, note.

Haw, James, 364, 438, 452,

Haygood, Atticus G., 676, note; elected bishop
but declined, 677.

Heck, Barbara, 262.

Hedding, Elijah, 433; elected bishop, 571; 606

Henry, Patrick, his first case, 261.

Henry VIII, 23.

Herrnhut founded, 110.

Hervey, James, 60, 77, 78, 79, 80.

Hewitt, aaa 559.

Hickman, William, 439.

Hickson, Woolman, 364, 369.

Hill, Green, 487.

Hobbs, Lewis, 544.

Hodges, John, rector of Wenvo, 211, 218.

Holston Conference, 364.

Holy Club, 60,"

Honour, John, 585.

Hooker on the witness of the Spirit, 187.

pi uaenee and the Edict of Nantes, 234,

Hull, Hope, 361, 362. ,

Humphreys, Thomas, 311, 357.

Huntingdon, Countess of, 237, 241, 259,

Hymn, Annual Conference, 208.

Hymn-book provided for, 644.

Hypothetical baptism, 148,

Inprnors, Methodism in, 520.

Immersion, Baptism of infants by, 90.
Increase of Church-members, Great, 612.
Independent Christian Baptist Church, 411,
Indian preachers, Memoirs of, 683, note.
‘erritory, 583,

Indians, Missions among the, 677,
Ingham, James, 73, 84, 90, 93, 94.
Instructions to Wesleyan missionaries, 883
Ireland, Methodism in, 216.

Ivey, Richard, 311, 359.

Janes I., 24; II., 29.

Janes, Bdward 8., elected bishop, 639.
Jarrett, Devereux, 250, 267, 302, 318, 377.
John Street Sart 263; Conference in, 36%
Justification by faith, 23.

Kavanauau, H. H., 596; elected bishop, 659.

Keener, John C., 548, note; elected bishop, 674

Kentucky, Methodism im, 438; first Annua
Conference in, 439.

Kinchin, an early Methodist, 81.

King, Jacob, 546.

King, John, 266, 268,

Kingswood School, 165, 222, 333,

Kirkham, of Merton College, 74.

Knobb, Jacob, 546.

Kobler, John, 458.

 
Index.

a

Ua GRANGE COLLEGE, 595, 659.

Lakin, Benjamin, 596.

Lambuth, John R., 548,

Lambuth, William, 487.

Lane, John, 659.

Lasley, Thomas N,, 652.

Lay delegation adopted, 668.

Lay preauning, 178, 185, 331.

Lee, Jesse, 267, 420, 426; assists Asbury, 469, 478.

Lee, Wilson, 439, 508.

Leckey uoted, 33, 34.

Letter, Wesley’s, to American Methodists, 343.

Lewis, Mr., offers a site for Bethe) College, 441.

Library, The Christian, 224.

Lillard, Joseph, 444,

Lindsey, Marcus, 577 «

Location, Causes of, 466.

Locke, John, 234.

og Meeting-house, 271, 273.

Lord King’s Primitive Church, 323,

Lots, Casting, 97.

Louisiana, Methodist struggle in, 556.

Louisville Convention, 641.

Love-feasts, Origin of, 200.

Lowth, Bishop of London, Mr. Wesley’s let-
ter to, 318.

Macavtay quoted, 31, 419.

Madison, Bishop, 320. -

Madison College, 595.

Madison, James, 252.

Major, John, 311, 357, 369.

Mann, John, 353.

Marriage of C. Wesley, 221; of J. Wesley, 227.

Marvin, Enoch M., elected bishop, 669; 674.

Mary, Queen of England, 24.

Mason, T., Book Agent, 535,

Massey, John H., 585.

Massie, Peter, 438, 446.

Mastin, Jeremiah, 362.

Maxfield, Thomas, 159, 178.

McCormack, Francis, 458.

_MeFerrin, J. B., Resolution of, 637.

McGee, John, 489.

McHenry, Barnabas, 441.

McKendree, William, 412; elected bishop, 514.

MeTyeire, Holland N., elected bishop, 669.

Mellard, J. H., 523. E

Merriwether, David, 363.

Methodism, Genesis of, 129.

Methodist Council, 402.

Methodist Magazine, 535.

Methodist Protestant Church, 574.

Methodists, First Oxford, 57, 62; origin of the
name, 56, note.

Milton, John, 26.

Minutes of 1770, 333; of 1773, 272; Leaving Mr.
Wesley’s name off the, 393.

Missionary collections, First, 353.

Missionary society formed, 563; flourish’g, 617.

Missions, 71; to the slaves, 523, 584.

Mississippi, First Conference in, 546.

Ee eats Methodism in, 437.

Missouri, Methodism in, 520.

Mobile, Methodism in, 648.

Moravians, 77, 85, 86.

Morgan, William, 74-76.

Morris, ‘Thomas A., 598, 601.

Morris and his “Reading-house,” 231.

Murray, Grace, afterward Mrs. Bennett, 225

“Mutual rights” agitation, 671, 572.

NasuvILLE, Bishop Asbury in, 487.

Nast, William, 594.

Neely, Richard, 582.

Nelson, John, his conversion, 162; 209.

Newcastle, Wesley in, 210.

New England, Whitefield in, 236; Methodism
in, 420; Anti-slavery agitation in, 604.

New Orleans, Ministers sent to, 547.

Newton, John, Vicar of Olney, 244.

Newton, Robert, 616.

 

691

Nitschman, David, 84,

Nolly, Richmond, 543; death, 668.
Non-conformists, 28.

Northcutt, Benjamin, 450.
North-west, Methodism in, 444.

OaprEn, BENJAMIN, 364, 439.

pH Siete James, 72, 83, 86, 87.

O’Kelley, James, 375, 404; seceded, 406; 410;
death, 413.

Olin, Stephen, 523, 621, 628. e

Ordinances, ‘I'he question of, 314.

Ordination of Bishop Coke, 341.

Ormond, William, 508.

Orphan House, founded, 188; 255; ruined, 474

Owen, Richard, first native peeehes 254, 307

Owen on the witness of the Spirit, 137.

Paag, Joun, 451,

Paine, Robert, 622; elected bishop, 645.

Palatines emigrate to America, 261.

Pantheon dedicated, 247; Contest for, 248.

Park, Moses, 359.

Parker, Linus, elected bishop, 677,

Parker, Samuel, 496.

Parks, Henry, 358.

Parks, William J., 359.

Partridge, William, 311.

Pawson, John, 332.

Peace of the Church disturbed, 606. ,

Pearson on the witness of the Spirit, 137.

Pedicord, Caleb, 311.

Perigau, Nathan, 308.

Perronet, Vicar of Shoreham, 219.

Perry, Moses, 582.

Perry Hall, 301, 348.

Petersburg, 366.

Philadelphia, Methodism planted in, 264,

Pheebus, William, 312.

Pierce, George F., elected BEner 659.

Bi os 524, 590, 625; fraternal dele-

ate, 646,

Pilmoor, Joseph, 257, 279, 281, 296.

Pine Ridge, Conference at, 560.

Pioneers in Texas, 616.

Pitts, Fountain E., 593.

Pointer, Jonathan, 577.

Poole on the witness of the Spirit, 137

Powell, Drury, 544.

Poulson Chapel, 273.

Poythress, Francis, 311, 366, 471, note.

Predestination, 52.

Presiding elders, 406; proposal to elect, 479,
512, 636; adopted, 568; suspended, 571; re-
pealed, 571.

Prison work, 59.

Property question, 644, 647; decision, 648,

Prophecy of Charles Wesley, 399.

Publication of books, 223, 224,

Publishing House in Nashville, 651.

Purisburg, 73.

Puritanism, 24, 25.

QuaRTERLY REVIEW, 655.

Queen Anne, 30.

Queen Mary, 21.

Quinn, James, 367.

RanDoLpH-Macon CoLLege, 595, 658.

Randolph, Peyton, 233.

Rankin, Thomas, 274, 280, 282.

Ray, John, 450.

Rebaptism by John Wesley, 147.

Redford’s History, 447.

Reed, Nelson, 370, 374, 617.

Rembert Hall, 291.

Republic of Texas, First missionaries to, 613.

Republican Methodists, 410.

Restoration, The, 27, 28.

Revival year, 487. :

Revivals in the South, 507.

Revolutionary War, Embarrassments of Meth

ont preachers in, 289, 292.

Lorin ce lal

 
692

Index.

 

Roberts, R. R., elected bishop, 537.
Robinson, Rev. Mr., and Samuel Davies, 232.
Rodda, Martin, 280,

Ruter, Martin, 613.

Ryerson, Egerton, 533.

Sauanies of ‘preachers, 408.

Savannah, 87, 88.

Scotland, Whitefield in, 229, 238.

Scott, Thomas, 460.

Scott, Thomas, the commentator, 244.

Seabury, Dr., ordained bishop, 398.

Secker, Archbishop, 32.

Sellers, Samuel, 540.

Separation, Plan of, 637.

Separation of Whitefield and Wesley, 192.

Sermons of Whitefield and Wesley, 240.

Shadford, George, 280, 285, 305. #

Shirley, Walter, 334.

Sims, Edward D., 310.

Singing, Congregational, 219.

Slavery, legislation, 375; agitation, 380; legis-
lation suspended, 380; renewed, 479; 5136,
601; agitation renewed, 618, 660.

Slaves, Methodist missions to, 584.

Slave-trade, Wesley’s opinion of, 325.

Smith, Henry, 476.

Smith, Isaac, 360, 580.

Smith, RB. D., 582.

Societies, Religious, 166; Methodist, begin-
ning of, 177.

Society for promoting Christian knowledge, 81.

Solemn league and covenant, 265, 27.

Soule, Joshua, 428, 535; elecied bishop, 567;
declines, 568; again elected, 571; adheres
South, 643; death, 432.

South Carolina, Negro missions in, 586.

Southern Methodism among the negroes, 386.

Southern Methodist colleges, 676,

Southern Methodist numbers reduced, 664.

Southey’s Life of Wesley, 125.

South-west, Methodism in, 462, 601, 639,

Spangenberg, the Moravian, 84, 87, 88.

Spring Hill Church, 639.

Standards of doctrine, 350.

Stanley, Dean, 419.

Stebbins, Cyrus, 430.

Stephenson, William, 615.

Stevenson, Henry, 615.

Stewart, John, 577.

Stillingfleet’s “ Irenicum,” 323.

Stone, Barton W., 492.

Strange exercises in 1800, 491.

Strawbridge, Robert, first Methodist preacher
in America, 253, 270, 273, 276.

Stubbs, Harriet, 578.

Sturdevant, Matthew P., 523.

Suffolk, Countess of, and Whitefield, 242, note.

Summers, Thomas 0O., 614, 644.

Sunday service, 371.

‘TALLEY, ALEXANDER, 580.

Tatum, Isham, 310.

Taylor, Isaac, 32; on field-preaching, 153, 321.

Taylor’s Holy Living and Dying, 51.

Temperance, 603,

Tennessee Conference at Lebanon, 629.

“The Room” at Bristol, 165.

Thompson, William, 262,

Thompson, William J., 438.

Tiff, Edward, 461.

Toleration, Act of, 29.

‘Toma-Chache, 93.

Tooley, Henry, 641. .

Tract and missionary societies, 563, 566.

Trevecca College, 245.

True epoch of Methodism in Western Hem-
isphere, 377. :

Trusteeship of John Wesley, 166.

Tucker, Samuel, 445.

Tunnell, John, 311, 442.

 

ULTEAMONTANE ordination, 367.
Uniformity, Act of, 15, 16.
Union with Mr. Wesley, 390,
Uniontown, Conference at, 367.
Unitas Fratrum, 109.

VANDERBILT UNIVERSITY, 676.

Vasey, ‘Thomas, 341, 511 note.

Vazeille, afterward Mrs. John Wesley, 224.

Vick, Newit, 540,

Virginia, Methodist meetings forbidden in
*232; 261. ‘

Voltaire, 32.

WALKER, JEssE 496,

Walker of Truro, 331.

Walpole, Horace, 35. +

Ware, Thomas, 312, 347.

Warner, Judge, 542.

Watch-night, 204.

Watters, Nicholas, 509.

Watters, William, 306, 316.

Watts, Isaac, 32, 220, 335.

Watson, Richard, 124, 161.

Waugh, Beverly, 601.

Webb, Captain, 263.

Wells, Mr., a convert, 355, 472.

Wesley, Bartholomew, 14.

Wesley Chapel, 266. |

Wesley, Charles, 22, 47, 55, 66, 61, 63, 113, 117,
118, 119, 156; marriage, 220; 400; death, 401.

Wesley, Emily, 66.

Wesley, Kezzy, 69.

Wesley, John, 14, 22, 45, 46-55, 56, 61, 62, 63, 64,
71, 72, 73, 74, 79, 84, 85, 86, 89, 90, 94, 95, 96, 106-
108, 113, 119; at Aldersgate street, 120; fol
lowing Providence, 146; 170, 205, 206, 207,
226, 226; marriage, 227; 290;
bury, 292; his death, 415.

Wesley, John, sr., a lay preacher, 17, 71.

Wesley, Mary, 66.

Wesley, Mrs. Charles, 221,

Wesley, Mrs. Susanna, 20, 21, 37, 38, 39-43, 44
45, 46, 60, 51, 52, 65, 67, 74, 131.

Wesley, Samuel, jr., 46, 47, 180, 171.

Wesley, Samuel, sr. 19, 21, 37, 38, 89, 43, 46, 54,

rebukes As-

Wesley, Susanna, daughter of Samuel, sr., 67.
Wesleyan advice concernin;, slavery, Reply

to, 609.

Wesleyan Methodist Church organized, 611.

Wesleyan University, 595.

Wesley family, 66, 67.

Westminster Assembly, 25. .

Whatcoat, Richard, 341, 391; elected bishop,
477; death, 510.

White, Rev. John, grandfather of Samuel Wes-
ley, sr., 20.

White, Rev. John,
Wesley, 21.

Whitefield, George, 60, 79, 97, 98-105, 146, 147,
148, 149, 186, 191, 203, 229, 236, 265; mar-
riage, 256, note; his death, 258; his will, 259,

Whitelamb, John, 82, 83.

Wightman, William M., elected bishop, 669.

Wilberforce converted, 245.

Wilkerson, ‘Thomas, 453, 458.

William and Mary, 29.

Williams, Peter, buys his freedom of John
Street trustees, 672, note.

Williams, Robert, 265, 267, 268; death, 275.

Williamson, Thomas, 439.

Willis, Henry, 354, 356, 359, 609.

Wilson, Alpheus W., elected bishop, 677.

Winans, William, 521, 640, 608, 624, °

Witness of the Spirit, 51, 52, 130, 134, 141.

Wofford's bequest, 658.

Wright, Mrs. Hetty, 67, 68; Mr., 280,

YELLOW FEVER, 472.

grandfather of Susanna

>

 

ZANZENDORF Count 84. 109.
eae ee