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THE LIFE

oF

ROBERT PAINE DD,

Bishop of thé Methodist Episcopal Church, South.

BY R. H. RIVERS, D.D.,

Author of “Our Young People” and “ Mental and Moral Philosophy.”

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY

REV. W. P. HARRISON, D.D.,
Book Editor of the M. E. Church, South.

NASHVILLE, TENN.

Daas, TEX.; RICHMOND, VA.
PusLisHING Housg or Tne M. E, Cuurcnu, SoutnH
SmitH & Lamar, AGENTS
1916
 

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1884,
By tat Boor Acents oF THE METHODIST EpiscopaL CouRoH, Sours,
in the Othce of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

 
TO MARY AND MARTHA,

THE FORMER THE FAITHFUL WIFE OF THE SUBJECT OF THIS
BIOGRAPHY, AND THE LATTER THE EQUALLY FAITHFUL
WIFE OF THE AUTHOR—DEVOTED FRIENDS IN THEIR
EARLY WOMANHOOD, AND REMAINING TRUE TO
EACH OTHER, TO THEIR HUSBANDS, AND TO
THEIR GOD, THROUGH ALL THE
VICISSITUDES OF LIFE—

Tus VoLumME 1s Most Lovineiy DEpIcaTep,
PREFACE.

BisHop Paine, years before his death, selected the author as his
biographer on condition any biography should be written. He said:
“T am not worthy of any thing more than an obituary to be published
in our Church papers; but if my friends should think otherwise, I
would be glad that the work of writing my life be placed in your
hands. You have my entire confidence, and I am willing to trust
you.” He afterward wrote to me to the same effect. After his death
the family, knowing his views, requested that these views be carried
out. In addition to this, the Bishops, at their annual meeting in
May, 1883, concurred in the request of the family.

In January, 1884, diaries and other papers were placed in my
hands, and in February the work was begun. A heavy charge was
on my hands. I had to devote a part of each day to pastoral visita-
tion. Two sermons were to be prepared for each Sabbath. A week-
ly prayer-meeting was to be attended to, at which a suitable talk was
to be delivered. All this demanded labor—earnest, constant, and
often exhausting. The diaries and papers were to be carefully ex-
amined. The work was completed on June 1. From February till
June I was in company with the Bishop. It seemed to me that he
was always present. I was reminded of an artist who was called
upon to take the likeness of a deceased friend. He shut himself up
in his studio for days, and communed with his departed friend. That
friend came and sat for the picture. He saw him. He seemed to
converse with him. He caught the expression of his countenance,
the flash of his eye, and the contour of his features. The result was
an excellent likeness. It was life-like and exceedingly accurate. So
it has been with this writer. While alone in my office it has seemed
to me that my dear old friend and teacher was again by my side, and
that I could almost hear him speak and touch his noble form, At
night he was present in my dreams. Indeed, I could not sleep. I
hardly became unconscious for weeks. So near was he to me both by

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6 PREFACE.

 

day and by night that it was difficult for me to withdraw my atten-
tion from him. I showed this in the frequent references which I
made to him as I appeared before my people. My attention was
thoroughly engrossed. I accompanied him on his trips. I sat again
in the recitation-room and listened to his lectures, delivered in that
clear, ringing, musical voice which I can never forget. I listened
again to his thrilling sermons, or bowed with him in humble prayer.
I got nearer to him than I ever did during his life. I could almost
hear the throbbings of his warm heart, and could see as I never saw
before his deep religious feelings. Into his inner life, and away down
into the deep chambers of his soul, I had constant and it seemed to
me perfect access.

Let not the reader misunderstand me. I am no spiritualist, no
enthusiast. I simply mean to say that I became so thoroughly and
so entirely absorbed in and with the subject of this biography that in
thought and feeling I was constantly with him during the months I
was engaged in writing the Life. I so expressed myself to some of
my friends at the time the work was going on.

To Mrs. Ludie Paine Scruggs the author is indebted for valuable
information in reference to that sad part of his life during which the
Bishop appears to have kept no regular diary. The book makes no
pretensions to give a history of the stirring times in which the Bish-
op lived. It issimply a Life of Bishop Paine; and asa man is known
by the company he keeps, the characters of those most intimately as-
sociated with him are briefly presented. The incidents of his career
are usually given in chronological order, and embrace his whole life
from his early boyhood to his death at the advanced age of eighty-
three years.

The diaries and other papers furnished by the family have been
of invaluable assistance in the preparation of this biography. Every
fact narrated is believed to be in perfect accordance with the truth.
Whenever possible the exact words of the Bishop have been given.
When this was not possible, his ideas have been fully and accurately
expressed. I therefore ask a candid and charitable reading of this
Life of one of our foremost men, and pray that its perusal may be a
blessing to the reader.
INTRODUCTION.

‘Tue life of a great and good man is the property of the age in
which he lives. When that life has been spent in self-denying la-
bors, and earnest effort to advance the welfare of the human race,
the example should be recorded for the encouragement and instrur-
tion of those who come after us, In an age of utilitarian philoso-
phy, and in a country in which the worship of mammon has attained
such proportions as to threaten the existence of society itself, we can-
not afford to permit the benefactors of true civilization and progress
to pass away without monument or memorial of their works.

Making haste to be rich, and coveting the luxuries that only
wealth can purchase, the present generation of our countrymen are
placing too low an estimate upon the generous self-abnegation which
voluntarily resigns the rewards of successful enterprise and the ac-
cumulation of wealth for the purpose of devoting time, energy, and
talent to the moral and religious culture of the poor and needy.
The merchant, who employs every faculty in the acquisition of fort-
une, finds his reward in the deference and respect which the world
has always shown toward the possessor of great riches. The politi-
cian, who studies the arts and the principles which lead to success
in the political arena, obtains the desire of his heart and finds his
reward in the fickle praises which seldom survive the brief hour of
official station. In the lives of all men who have attained success,
and have written their names upon the pages of history, there are
fessons of wisdom which may serve to guide the footsteps of others,
or to warn the ambitious aspirant of the dangers that lie in his path.

The career of a Methodist preacher does not present to the super-
ficial observer a theme of absorbing interest. We may expect no
startling incidents, no “hair-breadth escapes,” no profoundly excit-
ing records of heroic struggles, of battles fought and won. Yet there
is abundant material for the biographer and the historian in the life-
stories of men whose names are remembered only by the few faithful

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8 INTRODUCTION.

 

friends who valued them whilst living, and treasure their memories
when they have passed away.

The annals of a nation bear the names of the few who have
marched in the front of the army of progress. The great body of
the army, to whose endurance, fortitude, and skill the victories are
due, are unknown to fame. The wisdom of the great statesman who
piloted the English ship of state through the storms and perils of
the French Revolution has been celebrated by the pens and tongues
of his countrymen. But there are only a few discerning men who
have the ability to see, and the candor to acknowledge, that the
Methodist preachers in Cornwall exercised a conservative influence
over the elements of revolutionary disturbance, and thus preserved the
English nation from the horrors of civil war and anarchy. The des-
titution and poverty which justified, in the eyes of many, the revolu-
tion in France, existed also in England. But in the British King-
dom a great man had been commissioned from on high, and he and
his followers preached the gospel of Christ to the poor, the neglected,
and the oppressed, and the hopes of heaven and eterna] life sweetened
the bitter cup of human poverty and gave to the struggling poor of
England the power to endure with heroism the burdens of their lot.
Thus the Wesleyan Methodist preachers became the conservators of
peace and the prophets of a new and happier era, whilst William
Pitt stood at the front and received the credit for the stability and
permanence of British institutions.

To no class of men is American civilization more indebted than to
the itinerant Methodist preachers. They have been to a large ex-
tent the educators of the people. Following the footsteps of the
pioneer, the log meeting-house was the first building erected for the
use of the community at large by the zeal and fidelity of the itiner-
ant preacher. He carried to the remotest corners the message of
salvation. By his instrumentality neighborhoods were bound togeth-
er in religious ties, and the ambition to excel in every department
of human effort was fostered by his precepts and example. Few
graduates of colleges were among these evangelists, but they were
students whose diligence and energy overcame all difficulties. Early
opportunities for gaining knowledge they had not, but they improved
every moment of time; digested well the books they read, and em-
ployed for the highest purposes the learning they acquired. Their
advent was an era in the history of the little communities planted
in the great forests of the West and the South, A higher tone of
InrRoDUCTION. 9

 

public morals and a nobler outlook for life itself resulted from their
labors. They were men of the people, and spoke the language of
the people, but that language was ennobled and refined by the glo-
rious truths of the everlasting gospel. The Bible was the one book
found alike in the cottage and the home of the prosperousman. The
words of inspiration became a part of the speech of common life, and
the doctrines of the Bible were the laws of society.

It is dne to the truth of history to declare that the American pul-
pit has laid the foundation and constructed, in a large degree, the
edifice of civilization upon this continent. Theschool and the school-
master have followed the itinerant preacher, but they have come
only in answer to the demand which has been created by the preach-
ers of the gospel. The high estimate in which the pioneer preach-
ers were held by the rude, adventurous, but enterprising settlers in
the wilderness was due to the intrinsic merits of these men of God.
Not a man among them had any expectation of acquiring money,
or social influence, or political power, by performing the duties of
the ministry. A life of poverty and toil, of hardship and self-denial,
presented itself at the threshold of his career, but the young
preacher’s heart was aflame with the love of God, and the love of
Christ constrained him to labor for the souls of men. Feeling his
insufficiency for this great work, his constant appeal was to the
throne of grace, and the Holy Spirit clothed him with the armor
of a warrior, and he went forth to victory. Conscious of his want
of literary acquirements, and knowing that the Holy Spirit imparts
no gifts to encourage human idleness, he seized every moment of
leisure to improve his mind. Books of real worth that were accessi-
ble to him he studied with diligence, and the knowledge acquired
was given to the people whom he served. The example was conta-
gious. In every department of intellectual development and distinc-
tion, in all the walks of life, there are men who owe to the example
of these itinerant preachers the ambition to excel which has result-
ed in the highest and grandest victories, to the greatest benefit and
glory of the commonwealth.

Among those men who have become the chief factors in the sum
of moral and intellectual progress in this century, no name stands
higher than that of Robert Paine. Beginning life with the dawn
of the nineteenth century, he has been a principal figure in ecclesi-
astical history for more than sixty years. A youth of great promise,
enjoying the few facilities of education accessible in his time, he de-
10 INTRODUCTION.

 

voted himself to the work of the ministry. Hecame to legal manhood
and to full membership as an itinerant preacher nearly at the same mo-
ment. With tireless assiduity he applied himself to the acquisition
of knowledge. The lonely ride through the forest; the cosy nook
in the cabin by the light of the blazing fire; the solitary spot where
the overhanging boughs formed a grateful shade for his forest study—
everywhere and at every time, when public dutiesdid not engross
his thoughts, he improved the opportunity for increasing his stores
of knowledge. He studied the great book of nature, and communed
with God whilst reading the volume of his works. Rocks, mount-
ains, valleys, rivers, all had mysteries to be solved and lessons to
be learned. He learned them well, and brought their testimony to
the support and vindication of the volume of inspiration.

He entered upon the work of the ministry in one of the most event-
ful periods of Methodist history. The American Revolution was a
protest against the establishment of monarchical institutions in
America. Jealousy of kings and kingly power and aristocratic
pride and presumption had been deeply inwrought into the fabric
of American society. The establishment of a government “of the
people, by the people, and for the people,” had created a distrust of
every proposition in Church or State which looked toward the cen-
tralization of power in the hands of one man, or in those of a few
men. Fearing the tyranny of one, communities often surrender
themselves to the tyranny of the many. It was very natural that
the republican politics of the nation should manifest itself in the
government of the Church. The English Bishop, with his seat in
the House of Lords—a temporal as well as spiritual ruler—was un-
known in America, except by the unenviable reputation which be-
longed to many of the prelates in the mother country. But the
name was, in many quarters, the object of suspicion and dislike. That
some prejudices should be formed against the Methodist Bishops in the
United States is by no means remarkable. The plea that a scriptural
name ought to be given to a scriptural office was sufficient with the
wise and the reflecting, but there were many intelligent men who,
for purposes of their own, found it profitable to use the prejudices of
the ignorant and the vicious. It required no little heroism in the
early Bishops of American Methodism to face the criticisms of de-
signing men and the unreasoning opposition of the multitude. But
Francis Asbury was a man of nerve, and sustained by the conscious-
ness of a pure purpose, having the glory of God and the good of
InTRODUCTION. 11

 

men only in view, he endured misrepresentation and petty malice
and merciless persecution as a man who had a charge committed to
him by the great Head of the Church.

Early in the last decade of the eighteenth century, James O’ Kelly
had withdrawn from the Methodist Church, and the standard of re-
volt, which he set up had many followers. He claimed that the power
of appointing the preachers to their circuits and stations ought not
to be lodged in the hands of one man without some court of appeal.
The Annual Conference was this court. Having failed in his effort
to incorporate this measure into the economy of the Church, he with-
drew, and carried many with him. The political situation was de-
cidedly favorable to O’Kelly. There were many leaders of political
opinion who were suspected of harboring the purpose of overthrowing
the Republic, and introducing a Monarchy. Washington himself
did not escape from this charge of treason to American liberty. The
fierceness of this political warfare has never been excelled in the history
of the country. But, in the midst of civil commotions, ecclesiastical
dissensions, and clerical secessions, Asbury remained firm and pa-
tient, keeping himself to his one work, disputing with no one, but
approving himself as a man of God and a true Bishop and shepherd
of the flock.

When the declining influence of O’Kelly became manifest, and
the failure of his seditious movement was no longer a matter of
doubt, the controversy assumed a new phase. It was claimed that
the preachers who were appointed to their stations ought to exercise a
controlling influence over the men who were authorized to make their
appointments. The presiding elders, therefore, should be recognized
as the Bishop’s cabinet, and they should be elected by the Confer-
ence from among a specified number of persons nominated by the
Bishop. As ameasure designed to give peace and rest to the Church,
this dangerous proposition was adopted by the General Conference
of 1820, and Joshua Soule was elected Bishop a few days previous to the
passage of the resolution. After mature consideration the Bishop elect
sent in his resignation, refusing to be ordained to an office whose re-
sponsibility was not lessened whilst the discharge of its duties had been
seriously embarrassed, if not rendered impossible, by the action of the
Conference, Thus, from 1820 to 1824, the question was kept open
until a growing spirit of conservatism caused the General Conference
to recede from its dangerous position. The election and consecration
of Joshua Soule, in 1824, settled this controversy, so far as the great
12 INTRODUCTION.

 

body of the Church and the majority of her ministers were concerned;
but the flame of dissension was still burning, and the severe conten-
tion resulted in the withdrawal of several thousand members in 1828,
who organized a non-episcopal branch of the Church.

The progress of events has fully justified the action of the emi-
nent men who resisted the appeals of friends and the threats of ene-
mies in defense of cardinal principles which were involved in the
measures of 1820. The best form of government, in Church or State,
may become an engine of oppression in the hands of wicked and de-
signing men. The worst form of government may be so administered
as to postpone for ages the efforts of reformers, because the people are
not conscious of the burden to which they have submitted, or because
they fear the introduction of evils greater than those to which they
have been accustomed. But inasystem of Church government which
deposits in the hands of the people-the means by which the author-
ities of the Church subsist, there can be little danger of depriving
the people of their rights. The voluntary principle which prevails
in all denominations of Christians in the United States is a sufficient
safeguard against clerical oppression. Especially is this true of the
Methodist ministry, who have no legal means of enforcing an
obligation for the payment of a salary. If the people repudiate
the claim, there is no recourse, there is no court of legal jurisdic-
tion.

There were good and true men upon both sides of the controversy, the
leaders in all instances being ministers. It is not alittle remarkable
that the first attempt to remodel the Methodist system of government
was a movement in behalf of the preachers, whilst the issue which
was presented in 1828 was made in the name of the people. That
there was no great popular demand jor the representation of the laity
in the legislative department of the Church was proved by the re-
sults. That there was no serious defect in the organization of Epis-
copal M -thodism has been demonstrated by the history of the Church.
The superiority of our system of Church government, as a conserv-
ative and preservative polity, is clearly shown by comparison with
the fortunes of Methodism in Great Britain. Among the Wesley-
ans, the most jealously guarded and the most wisely tempered system
of making the appointments of the preachers has not secured the
body from internal discord, and the erection of independent Churches.
The dissidents from the Wesleyans number more than one-third of
all the Methodists in Great Britain. The non-episcopal Methodists
InrRoDUCTION. 13

 

of the United States do not exceed one in twenty of the membership
in Methodist Churches.

The fact which causes the minister to be prominent in all efforts
for change in the government of the Church is his constant care and
meditation upon the interests of the cause to which he had devoted
his life. By degrees, and at the earnest solicitation of the clerical
members, the laity became connected with the business of the Church
through the financial boards at the sessions of the Annual Confer-
ences, The gradual growth of the lay interest, and the demonstra-
tion of the usefulness of these wise and prudent helpers, produced at
last a quiet revolution in the mind of the Church at large. In 1866
the singular spectacle was presented to the world of a body of min-
isters, forming a General Conference, admitting an equal number of
laymen to the legislature of the Church without a petition from the
laymen, or the serious agitation of the question by those who were
most deeply concerned in the movement.

Robert Paine, a young man of twenty-four, was a member of the
General Conference of 1824, and soon became the friend and assist-
ant of Bishop McKendree. By these fathers of Episcopal Method-
ism, McKendree and Soule, the young preacher became thoroughly
instructed in the principles of the Church constitution, and when,
twenty years later, the people of the South were driven to the neces-
sity of assuming an independent ,osition, Robert Paine was among
the most prominent in the movement which preserved the institu-
tions of Methodism in the Southern section of the United States. It
was in the natural order of things that he should become one of the
tirst men elected to the episcopal office by the Methodist Episcopal
Church, South. ‘

For thirty-six years Bishop Paine exercised the office of a Bishop
in the Church of God. How faithfully he filled this office the fol-
lowing pages will testify. The record connects his name with every
Annual Conference, and his memory is precious to thousands of
preachers who loved him for his own sake, and esteemed him for the
many qualities which distinguished his official life.

No estimate of a Bishop’s labors can be formed by those who are
unacquainted with the difficulties of what is called the “stationing-
room.” It is impossible that one man should be acquainted with
the gifts, graces, and qualifications of a thousand itinerant preachers,
Nor can he possibly know the peculiar circumstances which exist in
the hundreds of circuits and stations to which the preachers are ap-
14 INTRODUCTION.

 

pointed. It is necessary, therefore, that the Bishop should have
godly advisers, men of sound judgment, disinterested motives, and a
controlling desire for the advancement of the kingdom of Christ. It
is essential, moreover, that the person who is responsible for the ap-
pointments he makes should have the right to select the men who
are to help him in making them. If there is one man in the service
of the Church who ought to be thoroughly impartial in the distribu-
tion of these appointments, it is the Bishop who is responsible for
them. If he be a man of God, he dare not allow any selfish motive
to control him. If he be a wise man, he will not allow himself to
be controlled by any other motive than the welfare of the Church.
The Bishop is dependent upon the voluntary contributions of the
people for his support. It would be an act of folly to allow himself
to be governed by any unworthy influence, for he must know that
there are critical eyes upon him, and no decision that he makes will
be accepted simply because he has made it. It must commend itself
to the judgment of those who are acquainted with the facts, and the
slightest appearance of favoritism would be instantly detected.

It will be seen, therefore, how weighty this responsibility is, when
the mere error of judgment may be taken for the perversity of an
uncompromising will, or the gratification of a personal motive.
Nothing but thorough consecration to God, and continual depend-
ence upon the guidance of the Holy Spirit, can qualify a man for
this delicate and difficult work. That Bishop Paine was a man of
thorough consecration to the service of the Church, his biographer
has fully proved in this volume. Beginning his career with ample
means, whose natural increment would have placed him without
effort among the wealthy men of his generation, he gave his time
and his property to the Lord of the harvest, and quietly endured
the reverses of fortune which followed the civil war. Denying him-
self the delights of a pleasant home, he entered upon long and fa-
tiguing journeys, in perils by land and water, often under circum-
stances that would have justified his absence from the sessions of his
Annual Conferences.

A Methodist Bishop ought to be a good judge of men. He should
have a competent knowledge of human character. There are many
occasions that call for the gift which approximates the apostolic
power of “discerning the spirits” of men. There are times when
modest merit needs encouragement, and, in some instances, it must
be discovered and brought forward into the sunlight of opportunity.
InrRODUCTION. 15

 

Some men are never promoted to places for which they are fully
competent, because they lack that self-assertion which is frequently
mistaken for talent. A Bishop rarely enjoys the privilege of listen-
ing to the sermons of beginners in the ministry. It is doubtful if
he could acquire much information concerning the real abilities of
those young men whom he chances to hear. Embarrassment is the
prevailing virtue of truly great men when they feel themselves in
the presence of their superiors. I have called it a virtue, for it
proves the absence of that personal vanity which is detestable in a
minister, and because I believe that Bishop Paine was one of the
finest examples of real pulpit power—greatest when recognizing his
responsibility most, but trembling in the presence of a great occa-
sion. He feared not the face of man, but he realized the presence
of his Master, and trembled lest the duty of the hour should be im-
perfectly performed. More than most men who are capable of lofty
flights of oratory, he was dependent upon the sympathy of his audi-
ence. He knew, therefore, by his own experience that a certain
measure of embarrassment in the pulpit is the necessary requisite to
the highest success, and he was never inclined to form a judgment
of others from opportunities which would have given a false impres-
sion of himself. In his intercourse with itinerant preachers he was
always studying them, as he studied every thing around him, that
his knowledge might be made available for the advancement of the
cause of Christ.

One of the qualifications of a Methodist Bishop is the ability to
appreciate, by practical experience, the sentiments of the Apostle
Paul, when he said: “I know both how to be abased and I know
how to abound; everywhere and in all things I am instructed both
to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need.” The
man who holds in his hands to a large extent the temporal welfare
of helpless women and children should understand what it is to be
hungry and to “suffer need.” He who has never heard the howl of
the wolf at his door-step can scarcely understand the pressure of that
pinching want which frequently incapacitates a minister for the work
intrusted to him. It is easy to preach endurance of the winter’s cold
when the preacher prepares the sermon by the warmth of a genial
fire. It is no difficult matter to exhort men to trust in Providence
when our barns are full and there is no reasonable apprehension of
lacking bread to-morrow; but he who snows how to be abased—he
who has looked into the faces of wife and children, after revolving
16 INTRODUCTION.

 

the problem of periling his integrity by accumulating debt in the
face of stern doubt as to the ability to pay—he is thereby better pre-
pared with tearful eye and prayerful heart to commend to others the
example of the birds that have neither barn nor store-house.

On the other hand, the absence of the ability “to know how to
abound ” must tend to narrowness of views and that depression of the
soul which leads to poverty of mental and spiritual resources. He
who has the knowledge of which the apostle speaks is prepared for
any enterprise which the Spirit of God presents to his courage and
endurance, assured of the bounty that has never failed to honor the
largest draft which faith has ever drawn upon the bank of Provi-
dence. “To know how to abound” is, therefore, to make a right use
of the earthly riches which God has placed in our hands, not using
them for the gratification of selfish appetites, but as stewards of the
Master, distributing to others as freely as we have received. It is
not necessary that the name of the donor should be recorded on sub-
scription lists or engraved upon marble in commemoration of prince-
ly gifts. It is enough if the hand has been ever open to the appeal
of the poor and needy, and that the grace of charity has been en-
hanced by the kindly voice and the tone of sympathy which color
the gift of silver with the ruddy radiance of gold.

Of Bishop Paine it can be justly said that he had the knowledge
of these two extremes of abundance and want.

At the termination of the civil war he, in common with many
thousands of our Southern countrymen, was deprived of the larger
part of his property, and the remainder was so greatly depreciated
in value as to make its possession a tax upon mind and heart, whilst
it continued an uncertain source of income. Added to this stroke of
adversity was the burden of an obligation assumed in behalf of an-
other, which by patient and persevering industry he was enabled
to discharge. To the man of honor there is no greater trial than
the struggle for the payment of debts for which he has received no
equivalent whatever. But bravely facing the issue, Bishop Paine
endured the toil and anxiety which for himself and family he before
had never known. This “service of tables” was exceedingly dis-
tasteful to a man whose whole heart was in the work of the minis-
try, but it gave no occasion for the diminution of his labors in the
episcopal office. The rest at home was alloyed by the burden of care,
but it was not made the occasion for the postponement of the en-
gagement or the excuse for the neglect of duty. It was only among
InrRoDuctION. 17

 

his familiar friends that mention was ever made of the hardships of
the dark and perilous days whose anxieties added many a furrow to
his brow. He had known, in other days, “how to abound.” The
Providence which had guided his footsteps hitherto was leading
him, in the evening-time of life, by a way he had not known.

Of his tenderness of heart the records may be found in the memo-
ties of those who have never been turned away empty from his door.
Averse to the display of a virtue which he held as fundamental to
Christianity, he made no publication of his charitable deeds, but
they and their beneficiaries are among the number of those who wel-
comed him “to everlasting habitations.” Those only who have
shared his anxiety in the council-room can testify to the deep in-
terest he felt in the welfare of the preachers who were stationed by
him at the Annual Conferences. Afflicting scenes there must be,
and he must be less than human who can look into the face of a man
of God who has been appointed to a hard field of labor, where self-
denial and suffering are inevitable, without feeling the great deeps
of sympathy and compassion stirred. Sleepless nights and days of
anxiety pass by all unknown to those who are the causes of these
mental trials, and the strong lines which sometimes mark the face
of the Bishop who reads the unwelcome news to some of his brethren
are often made more rigid by the effort to suppress the sympathy
which demands an utterance.

But there are other interests that must be represented at the An-
nual Conference. If the preachers and their families call for the ex-
ercise of sympathy upon the part of the Bishop who makes their
appointments, the Church, whose welfare is at stake, must not be
forgotten. The carefulness which leaves no means of information
unemployed, and the sagacity which determines the adaptation of men
to the diversified fields of labor, are qualifications for the episcopal]
office which cannot be overlooked without serious damage to the cause
of Christ. Accessible to the humblest member of the flock, indulgent
to none at the cost of candor and the claims of truth, Bishop Paine
discharged these duties as one who must give an account to the Chief
Shepherd, and preserved a conscience void of offense toward God and
man.

A Methodist Bishop should be a man of firmness. Decision of
character is essential to the episcopal office. A man who can be
turned about by every appeal to his tenderness of heart, or by con-
siderations which gratify the claims of personal friendship, will lose

2
18 IntTRODUCTION.

 

the esteem of those competent to understand him, and the respect of
those who try but fail to use him. On the other hand, he should
be open to conviction, to the appeals of reason, and magnanimous
enough to acknowledge an error when he is aware that he has com-
mitted it. A man who considers himself infallible, and thinks him-
self degraded by being proved in the wrong, has no qualifications
that can compensate for a weakness that is fatal. Of all men whom
I have known, Bishop Paine possessed a character most exquisitely
balanced in this respect. Whether by slow or rapid induction he
had formed an opinion, he was always ready to reépen the question
and view it under the new light that was brought to bear upon it.
Even when his opinion had been publicly expressed, the conviction
of his judgment was reversed, and the acknowledgment was made, if
in the meantime the facts appeared which proved his error. On a
memorable occasion, he spoke hastily and unadvisedly in open Con-
ference, and by doing so greatly wronged one of the young ministers,
No sooner was the fact made apparent to him than Bishop Paine,
with a majestic presence, and in a tone of voice that expressed far more
than words can convey, publicly confessed his error and craved the
pardon of the brother whom he had wronged. It was this nobility
of character that made him truly great. A supreme love of truth
for its own sake, and that largeness of soul that confesses an error as
publicly as it has been committed, are virtues that belong only to
nature’s noblemen.

Acquainted with all the vicissitudes of itinerant life; sympathiz-
ing with every grade and degree of ministerial fortune and ability;
with tenderness of heart which is called womanly because it approx-
imates the divine; with unalterable resolution when reason gave un-
qualified approval; with heroic courage equal to any emergency of
time and place; with inflexible will whose strength was chastened by
submission to the will of God; with modest diffidence, distrusting
himself and giving all praise and glory to the Master whose service
was his delight—Robert Paine fought the good fight, finished his
course, kept the faith, and has ascended to the throne of his Re-

deemer, to receive the crown of eternal life.

W. P. Harrison.
Nashville, Tenn., September, 1884.
CONTENTS.

Cuaprer IL PAGE
Ancestry—Birth—Boyhood. ..........05000% eas ee dea a leiatatS 23
Cuapter II.

Couversion—Entrance on the Work of an Itinerant Preacher... 26

Carter II.

Volunteers to go South—Is Sent to Tuscaloosa Circuit—Does
Faithful Work—Attends Conference—Sent to Murfreesboro
=Sentto Lebanon. < ove iss evsisnwaieeccaweuisiesiaier a8 oie 30

Cuarter IV.

Presiding Elder—Delegate to General Conference—Assists Bish-

op McKendree in His Address, ete..........ceeeeeeceeeeeees 33
CHAPTER V.

Improving as a Preacher—Marriage to Miss Susanna Beck—
Stationed in Nashville—His Work—Presiding Elder—College

Presidentissrscevandawae ye x eda sees oo 54 eae Sees aeres 38
CuapTer VI.
Conference at Pulaski, Tennessee—Falling Meteors—President of
La Grange College—Gifts and Graces.....-....0seseeeeeeee 43

CuapTer VII.
Studying Among the Rocks—College Life—Rigid Requirements
—~Dangers—Courage ..s.csccsceccctececseeasierascovesees 49
Cuarter VIII.
Unselfishness—Courage—Sorrow.......cecsevecccacccerceece 55
Cuaptrr IX.
Second Marriage— Death—Grief—Revival—Marriage to Miss

Mary Eliza Millwater—Family........... cece eceeereees 59
CHAPTER X.
Professor Tutwiler—Honors—Agents..........0ceece eee e eens 62
20 CONTENTS.

 

Carter XI. PAGE
Carlos G. Smith—College Life Closing—Work Accomplished... 68

CuaPrter XII.
Love for the Church..........cssecceecesseees qamusiaeewcen C2

CHAPTER XIII.

The General Conference of 1844—The Sequence..... acepislbuase 0 77
CaapreR XIV.

General Conference of 1846—Struggles—Victory.seceessereeee 81
CHAPTER XV.

Bishop Paine on His Rounds..............- er weees 85

CuapteR XVI.
Fulfilling His Mission................00005 Dicommelserene tee ieaa Ob

Carter XVII.
Great Missionary Meeting—Terrible Accident— Wonderful Prov-

VdON COs wisrndinceeciseekeeeeda tease dese 5 hee ieee es Miniaeioes 94
CHaPTeR XVIII.
Legal Question—Tennessee Conference......... Pelee esterase voee 98
CHapTerR XIX.
Duty in the Midst of Danger.........cceccecceccereccccnees 102
CHAPTER XX.
In the Great West—Returns Home............eseeeeee veces LOT

CHAPTER XXI.

General Conference—Cholera—Bascom—Excitement in the East
—Work—Bereavement ........ cc ccc ccc ce cee eeeeceeetavee 111

Cuaptrr XXII.
Long Absence—Death Abroad and at Home—Powerful Preaching.117
CuaprerR XXIII.
Third General Conference—New Bishops— Removal of La
Grange College........ isthe Oareiy een empemanatocemniy melee 121
CHAPTER XXIV.

Education in Alabama—The Southern University—Providence—
Perile—Law vieci aeee reese de seeawed ds meanoeneenorneewesy 126
CONTENTS. 21,

 

CHAPTER XXV. PAGE
General Conference at Nashville—Bishop Soule— Episcopal

CuHarTreR XXVL

Watch-night—John Hersey —Buchanan— Interesting Visit—
Threatenings:of Warisjisc07 Soe coh spas caeasweedeweess 140

CuarteER XXVIL
The Civil War—Sorrow upon Sorrow...........cseeeeeee cece 146

CuHapTreR XXVIII.

“Notes of Life’—Seeking for Truth—Dr. Bascom—Political Is-
sues— President Monroe — Missions Among the Indians— De

CHAPTER XXIX.

“Notes of Life” Continued—The “Vexed Question”—Presiding
Elder Controversy — Change of Conference Lines — Sectarian-
ism—Divorce—Divining Rod—Religious Controversy—James

CuapPTeR XXX.
“Notes of Life” Continued—Marriage of Ministers—Administra-
tion of Discipline—Popular Amusements—Financial Straits. .187
CuarTeR XXXI.

“Notes of Life” Continued—Removal of Indians—Holy Living
—Sketches of Bishop Bascom—Church Polity..............- 205

CHarTreR XXXII.

General Conference of 1866—Changes Made—Lay Element—
New Bishops. :.. 0.0 seo. seeversnstaseiseamasieeeseske teers 222

CHapreR XXXII.
Southern University—Bishop Soule’s Death—Memorial by Bish-

CHAPTER XXXIV.

Still Working — Depressed —Sick— Unconscious for Months—
Providential Recovery—Renewed Preaching with Power... ..242
22 OONTENTS.

 

CHAPTER XXXV. PAGE
Finishing the Life of Bishop McKendree—Hard at Work—

Growing Old Gracefully...............ceeeceececeerecenes 250
CHAPTER XXXVI.

Working Like a Young Man............00s+0005 sie eeeaete 254
CuarTeR XXXVII.

Death of Bishop Andrew—Bishop Paine in Louisville......... 259
CuaPTreR XXXVIII.

Central University...........ccceeeeccees Sidioee enim nner 262
Cuarrer XXXIX.

Inner Life—Vanderbilt University—General Conference....... 271

CHarrer XL.
Seventy-Fifth Anniversary—Domestic A flictions—Heroic Devo-

GON CO DULY svisiecsiis ase cinta vonaveesie dig 8 5G trad ob rase nme orerbreete ine 276
CuapterR XLI.

Still Suffering and Working—Dr, Palmer's Visit...........- 292
Cuaprer XLII.

“Notes of Life’—Wesley Hall—A Fraternal Meeting......... 294

Carter XLIII.
Bishop Paine Retiring—Dr. McFerrin’s Speech—Bishop Pierce’s
Address—Great Feeling—Death of T. O. Summers—Ordain-

ing New Bishops—Returning Home to Die...........+.005 299
CuapreR XLIV.
Closing Scenes—Triumphant to the Last...........eeeeeeeeeee 304

Cuarter XLY.
Summing Up of His Life and Character...........00eeeee+ -..310
LIFE OF BISHOP PAINE.

CHAPTER |.

ANCESTRY—BIRTH— BOYHOOD.

BOUT the year 1699 Dr. James Paine landed in Amer-
ica. He was an Englishman, and had been educated

in London as a physician. After remaining a short time
in New England, he settled in what is now Person county,
North Carolina. He was a man of affairs, and erected the
first brick house ever seen in Person county. He had four
sons, one of whom was named Robert. He was the grand-
father of the Bishop, and was married to Elizabeth Miller
in 1772. James Paine was the fruit of this marriage, and
was born on March 18, 1776. Robert, the grandfather of
the Bishop, was also a physician, and was among the patriots
of the Revolutionary war, and was commander of a company.
After he close of the war he was elected to the Legislature
of his native State, and became a prominent member. He
was a sensible, pious, and generous-hearted Christian gentle-
man. He died in 1808, universally honored and respected.
James, the oldest son of Dr. Robert Paine, was the father
of the Bishop. He was educated at the University of North
Carolina, and was married to Miss Nancy A. Williams on
January 7, 1799. He was for many years the efficient clerk
of the High Court in his native county, and held the office
until his removal to Giles county, Tennessee, in 1814. He
was a modest, quiet, sensible, and useful Christian gentleman.
He never sought office, but was for many years a leading

(28)
24 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

magistrate in Giles county. He brought up a large family
of sons and daughters, of whom Robert was the oldest. He
was a gentleman of the olden times, possessed of large wealth,
owning and cultivating a fine plantation in the rich county
of Giles. The Bishop says of him: “My father had no as-
pirations for either civil or military honors, although he was
prevailed upon to act as Judge of the County Court, and
was for many years a justice of the peace.” He was re-
markable for sound judgment, integrity of principle, and
Christian consistency. He was a gentleman of fine culture
and spotless reputation, pleasant in conversation, just in his
dealings, wise in counsel, and possessed of the highest do-
mestic virtues. He was thrice married. Robert, the sub-
ject of this memoir, was born in Person county, North Car-
olina, November 12, 1799.

It will be seen, as we accompany him through a life of
more than eighty years, that he was in all respects worthy
of a noble ancestry. His father of fine English blood and
his mother of Welsh descent could both look with hope to
the future of their first-born. He was bright and promis-
ing, and gave no little joy to the youthful couple. He soon
exhibited those elements of character which marked him all
along his eventful life. He was in no respect inferior to
those who gave to him the heritage of a good name. He was
a modest, brave boy, and from his early boyhood always
loved and told the truth. He always prided himself on his
love for the truth, which he had always practiced from his
boyhood to manhood and from manhood to old age. While
at school in North Carolina he made rapid progress. The
family had scarcely settled quietly down in their Tennessee
home before they learned there was an excellent school in
the neighborhood. This was under the management of
William Brown, a graduate of the University of North
Carolina, and a brother of the Hon. A. V. Brown, who
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 25

 

afterward became distinguished as a politician, and was at
one time Governor of the State of Tennessee and at another
a member of Congress, and was also a member of the cabi-
net of President Polk. William Brown was a good teacher,
and was always proud of having had Robert Paine as his
pupil. The study of the classics now largely engaged his
attention, and here he laid the foundation of his education.
Greatly to his regret, the school closed in a year, and he
spent a year as clerk in a mercantile house in Pulaski. He
was active, intelligent, polite, and popular. Although full
of life and fond of fun, he allowed nothing to interfere with
his duties to his employer. He was thoroughly honest and
very methodical and accurate in attending to business, stil]
the business did not suit him. He thirsted for knowledge.
He desired to perfect himself in the classics, in which he
was already quite proficient, and to make himself master
of the higher mathematics. It so happened that a good
opportunity was afforded in a school of high grade taught
by Dr. Wier and Professor Alexander in the village of
Lynnville, Giles county, Tenn. Thither he went in Jan-
uary, 1816. He went to work with his usual vigor. He
pursued his studies with such success that he was soon ready
for the sophomore class of the colleges of that day.

It has been stated again and again that he was educated
at Chapel Hill, and that he was a classmate of President
James K. Polk. This wasnottrue. He did not carry out his
purposes in that direction. His father greatly desired him
to do so. He had him ready to start to Cumberland Col-
lege, at Nashville, but his son felt it to be his duty to enter
at once upon the work of the ministry. ‘Conscience set-
tled the matter then, and he was never disposed to unsettle
it.’ He was a good scholar, thorough in English and profi-
cient in the Latin and Greek languages and in mathematics.
He also studied French and became acquainted with Hebrew.
26 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

CHAPTER II.

ConvERSION—ENTRANCE ON THE WoRK OF AN ITINERANT
PREACHER.

HE parents of Robert Paine were up to this time mem-
bers of no Church. They were inclined to the Baptist
denomination. The training of Robert was moral but not
religious. He was taught to be truthful and honorable, and
always had the greatest respect for religion. When a room-
mate of his at Dr. Wier’s school uttered infidel sentiments,
he said in reply: “These sentiments of yours are intolerable
tome. I cannot room with an infidel. After to-night we
part, and I go to another boarding-house.” He had been
taught and believed the Bible to be true, and the fear of
being an infidel determined him at once to separate from
his room-mate. His conversion was on this wise: He had
been the subject of deep religious impressions from early
life. These feelings were intensified by the death of his
mother. She was soundly converted, and died uttering as
her last words, “Peace, peace.” She was a good mother,
and her dying-words had a powerful effect upon his young
and susceptible heart. -About a year after her death he was
greatly affected by the preaching of the Rev. Thomas L.
Douglass, who had been connected with his father as clerk
in a mercantile house in North Carolina, when they were
both boys. A camp-meeting was to be held at Pisgah, in
Giles county, in October, 1817. Douglass was the presid-
ing elder, and Miles Harper preacher in charge. At this
meeting his friend Sterling Brown went forward as a seeker
of religion. Robert, although deeply affected by his friend’s
going forward, failed to do so, and went alone into the neigh-
BISHOY OF THE M. E, CHURCH, SOUTH. 27

 

boring forest and offered up prayer, sought religion, and de-
termined to be a Christian. Many were converted, but he
was not among the number. He could not overcome his
deep-seated repugnance to what he called “religious sensa-
tionalism,” hence he gave no public indication that he
was a seeker of religion. Yet he was in earnest. Alone
in the forest, he resolved to search the Scriptures, and from
them to learn the way of life. He left the camp-meeting
to carry out this purpose. He continued reading his Bible
and praying until the following Sabbath, October 9, 1817.
There was a meeting at the house of Davis Brown. Thither
Robert went, and there, bowing before God in prayer, he
resolved to give himself to the work of saving his soul.
Before the meeting closed he was soundly converted. The
evidence was strong and clear. He felt the burden of sin
removed and that his heart was renewed by the baptism of
the Holy Ghost. He was satisfied. He knew that he was
born again. He was happy. Love to God and man was
shed abroad in his heart by the Holy Ghost. He was not
noisy, yet he was so overpowered by a sense of God’s redeem-
ing and forgiving love that all the darkness of the past was
made luminous and every doubt and fear removed. From
that day to the hour of his death he never doubted his con-
version. For sixty-five years he celebrated in his heart, and
often in grateful words, the return of the day which marked
the anniversary of his conversion. His conversion, so bright
yet so calm, filling him with the love of God, was followed
by his immediate connection with the Methodist Episcopal
Church. About the same time Hartwell and Sterling
Brown were also converted, and by the advice of the pre-
siding elder, the Rev. Thomas L. Douglass, these young
men went to the Tennessee Conference, which was opened at
Franklin, Tenn., October 30, 1817. Robert had not yet
been baptized, and of course had not been fully admitted
28 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

into the Church. During this session of the Conference he
received the ordinance of baptism by pouring. The Rev.
Miles Harper administered the ordinance. Our young con-
vert was deeply impressed by the Conference. “The session
was held in a narrow, long, low school-house near the old
Methodist Church. Bishops Rohert R. Roberts and Enoch
George presided alternately. The sermon of Bishop Rob-
erts on Sunday, at the court-house, on Hebrews ii. 8, was
deeply impressive, and under it there was a great display of
divine power. The Conference embraced the whole State of
Tennessee, all of Kentucky south of Salt River, and a por-
tion of South-western Virginia. The religious impression
made upon the community was very great. A revival be-
gan early in the session and continued to the close. Scores
were converted. Our young soldier felt the call of God,
“Go preach.” He had not been licensed. Not one month
had passed since he first felt the glow of divine love and
rested in Christ. He could not be admitted into the Con-
ference without a palpable violation of the Discipline of
the Church. Yet he must preach. He had once in the
absence of the preacher been called upon to deliver a ser-
mon. His text was, “Come unto me, all ye that labor and
are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.” The word had
its effect, for God was with him. So it was determined to
take the young man and put him to work. Some time
after the Conference he returned to Giles county, and at
a quarterly-meeting Conference, held at Rehoboth, he was
licensed to preach. He was really not licensed until Jan-
uary, after he had been on the circuit some months. He
was immediately engaged by the presiding elder, the Rev.
T. L. Douglass, to travel on the Nashville Circuit with
Miles Harper as senior preacher. Miles Harper was no
ordinary man. He had been largely instrumental in the
conversion of his youthful colleague, had baptized him,
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 29

 

and possessed his largest confidence. It was well they should
be thus intimately associated. It was a blessing to one so
young to have such a friend as Miles Harper. “ Burning in
zeal, eloquent in speech, with an unusual degree of unction
in his public prayers and sermons,” he nearly always touched
the hearts of his hearers. Ata camp-meeting he was almost
irresistible. While he was preaching persons would invol-
untarily rise to their feet and press toward the preacher, and
often kneel and cry for mercy. He was almost a natural
orator, with vivid imagination, deep feeling, great courage,
and a strong, clear, and musical voice. Such was the man
who became the adviser and instructor of the youth Paine
in his first efforts to preach the gospel. This was the old
method of preparing our young men for the ministerial of-
fice. We had no theological schools. The circuit, encom-
passing many square miles, was then the only school of the
prophets. So on the Nashville Circuit, with Miles Harper
as his example and instructor, Robert Paine first learned to
preach the gospel. He says: “ We had the pleasure of see-
ing the work of the Lord prosper in our hands. Many were
converted and some sanctified.”

The next Conference opened at Nashville on October 1,
1818. Bishops McKendree and George presided. At this
Conference twenty-six were admitted on trial, of whom Rob-
ert Paine was one. He was appointed in charge of Flint
Circuit. He was still a youth in his teens, but he did not
hesitate. Brave, zealous, prudent, and faithful, he was
blessed with a revival continuing through the year. He
says: “One hundred and sixty souls were converted at two
camp-meetings, a general revival going on all around the
circuit, an increase of two hundred and thirty members,
and all was peace and love.”
80 LIFé OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

CHAPTER III.

Vo.untEErs To Go Soura—Is Sent to TuscaLoosa Crrcurr—
Dors Farraron Work — ATTENDS CONFERENCE —SENT TO
MurFeEEssporo—SENT TO LEBANON.

CTOBER 1, 1819, the Conference again met in Nash-
ville. A call was made for volunteers to go South.
Robert Paine at once offered his services and was accepted.
He was appointed to Tuscaloosa Circuit. Here he had all
the difficulties to encounter incident to a new country. The
streams were without bridges, and frequently he risked his
life in crossing them. The settlers were often many miles
apart, and frequently he had to go without a road through
the dense, unbroken forests. He says: “My life was often
in imminent peril, but out of all these troubles the Lord
delivered me.” Here he formed many permanent friend-
ships, to which he loved to recur in all his subsequent life.
Dr. Robert L. Kennon, a prince in Israel, a man of the
highest talents and loftiest Christian virtues, was among
these early friends. He did not live to see his young friend
a presiding Bishop in the Methodist Church, but he did live
to see him advanced to high position, adorning all the walks
of refined social life, raising high the banner of the cross,
a teacher in Israel of exalted worth, and eagerly pursuing
the path which his youthful feet were then treading, and
which has been made illustrious by apostles and martyrs
along all the ages. Dr. Kennon himself was among the
greatest and best of our Southern preachers. His sun set
at noon, but it shone with ineffable brightness to the last.
No man did more for the cause of God in Alabama than
this early and life-long friend of the young preacher.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 31

—

This work was three hundred and twenty-five miles in
circuit, and embraced twenty-eight appointments in four
weeks.

October, 1820, the Tennessee Conference was held in Hop-
kinsville, Ky. No bishop was present. Robert Paine was
apparently ruined in health by the severe labors of the year
just closed. He, however, went up to the Conference on horse-
back, and was admitted into full connection, though not or-
dained. This year he was stationed at Murfreesboro. He
had access to one of the best libraries in the State. He
read history, science, and literature with an avidity and a
profit rarely equaled. His thirst for knowledge was being
satisfied. He was a learner, and the best books were his
teachers. He wrote rigid analyses of the works read. He
lecame enamored with natural science. He read chemistry,
astronomy, physics, and enjoyed the reading. Heread Shake-
speare, and appreciated the great dramatist. He read Mil-
ton, and was filled with rapture as he followed the flights of
his imperial imagination. Then his Bible and the stand-
ards were not neglected. He made great improvement in
preaching. His language became refined and elegant. His
imagination seemed inspired. He surpassed the expectation
of his friends and won upon the community and the Church
as few young men ever did. Sterling Brown was then the
wonder of Tennessee. His enthusiasm drew with more than
magnetic power. He wasall aflame with love and zeal. He
excelled in almost every department of sound eloquence. His
command of language seemed almost inexhaustible. His
power of description was exhibited in the highest form of
word-painting. The picture was right before the hearer,
filling him with wonder, startling him with terror, melting
him with its tenderness, or winning him with love. But in
no respect was Sterling Brown the superior of Robert Paine,
while in varied learning, thorough culture, delicate and ele

 
32 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

gant taste, Paine was actually surpassing all the young men
of his age.

November, 1821, the Conference met at Salem, Bedford
county, Tenn. On November 11 our young preacher was
solemnly ordained a deacon by Bishop McKendree, and
was returned to Murfreesboro and Shelbyville. This year
was as the past, and was profitable to all. The people were
delighted, and he was rejoiced because of the opportunity
afforded for continued improvement. The next Tennessee
Conference was held in East Tennessee, and he was taken
violently ill of a bilious fever. He was sick for seven
weeks, and his life was despaired of. He himself had no
hope of living until his faithful friend Rev. W. B. Peck
was conversing with him about the plan and manner of his
burial. He said: “I felt a confidence that I should get
well. I commenced at once to improve, and finally recov-
ered. This is the Lord’s doing, bless his holy name!” Im-
mediately upon his recovery he went to his appointment,
which was at Lebanon and Franklin. He did not arrive
until about the middle of January, 1823. He continued to
grow in favor with Gud and man, as was shown at the next
Conference, held in Huntsville, Ala., November 26, 1823.
Here he was elected and ordained elder, and elected a dele-
gate to the General Conference. He was appointed presid-
ing elder of the Forked Deer District. From this time on
he is always found in the front ranks. Preaching before he
was licensed by the Church, traveling a circuit in less than
one month after his conversion, a stationed preacher before he
was twenty-one years old, a presiding elder and a delegate
to the General Conference at the age of twenty-four years.
From this time on he attended every General Conference, as
delegate or Bishop, until his death—fifteen in all, and in nine
of which he presided as Bishop. Seldom has any man among
us risen so rapidly, and certainly not one more deservedly.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 8?

 

CHAPTER IV.

Presiping ELDER—DELEGATE TO GENERAL CONFERENCE—
Assists Bishop McKEnpDREE in His ADDRESS, ETC.

HE Forked Deer District, to which Robert Paine was
appointed at the Conference which began its session at
Huntsville, Ala., November 26, 1823, embraced a large
scope of country. It extended from Florence, Ala., to the
Mississippi River, and to the line of Kentucky, embracing
the “Purchase,” and also extended all along the northern
boundary of the State of Mississippi—a territory consider-
ably larger than that now occupied by the present Memphis
Conference. Early in January the young presiding elder
set out on his mission. His first quarterly-meeting was on
the Bigbee Circuit. He preached with great liberty and
success, and after preaching on Sunday came very near los-
ing his life. He says: “After preaching, as I was going
off with Father Brewer, I got my foot hung in the stirrup.
My horse became alarmed, and dragged me under him and
along the road, tramping over me and kicking. Just as he
started at full speed to run between a stump and the fence,
where I must have been instantly killed, Divine Providence
released my foot, and I escaped unhurt. This is to me one
of the strongest and surest pledges that my God is my guard.
O that I may love and serve him more faithfully! My soul,
praise and adore him!” This was by far the most diffi-
cult work to which he had been appointed. He often had
to lodge in a log-cabin of only one room, lighted by pine-
knots, and uncomfortably crowded with people. He gives
an account of having to spend one night in an open cabin,
in which there were but two beds for seven adult persons.
3
34 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

In speaking of these trials, he says: “I thank God that I
envy neither the rich nor the gréat. I feel that I am dis-
charging my duties. The people are very poor, honest, and
pious. I was never better satisfied. I am happy in relig-
ion, and not afraid to die. This evening I have been much
blessed. O how I do realize the poet’s words!
Lord, how secure and blest are they
Who feel the joy of pardoned sin;
Should storms of wrath shake earth and sea,
Their minds have heaven and peace within.”

Again he says: “I have labored with my own hands until
they are blistered and very sore. Am studying a work on
chemistry. Country full of wolves, bears, and panthers.
Thank God I have continued peaceful, and that I am grow-
ing! I desire more humility, zeal, and love. Glory, glory
be to God for pure and sweet religion!” I have made these
extracts from his diary to show how amidst crosses, hardships,
and even dangers, he was sustained by the grace of God, and
was rising to a higher life. His studies were not neglected.
By day and night, on horseback and in the humble cabin of
the pioneer, he was pursuing his studies. He kept himself
busy allthetime. If necessary he would help a poor brother
put up a fence or build a stable, or assist in any needful work,
until his hands were blistered almost, and forced him to stop.
If the wolves and bears were alarming the women and kill-
ing the stock, he would shoulder a gun and accompany his
host in the chase, and then at night he was found studying
the profoundest works on natural science then at his com-
mand. He says: “Finished work on natural philosophy.
Pleasing and sublime study.” But the most gratifying part
of his experience as a presiding elder is his growth in grace
and his almost rapturous joy when he finds that he has been
instrumental in doing good. Hesays: “ Blessed be God that
T have been so honored as to be instrumental in the salvation
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 35

 

of souls. I have been often tempted to think that there are
no real seals to my ministry. Away with such thoughts!
Lord, make me more humble, patient, zealous, and holy.
God in his wisdom may keep me from knowing the good
I may be instrumental in accomplishing, but I trust I shall
see in eternity many happy souls whom I have led to Christ.
For this I am willing to suffer cold and hunger, and indeed
all other privations. O my soul, awake to the importance of
the ministry! How anxious I should be to bring to glory
and to save immortal souls! God of omnipotence, clothe
me with divine energy, and help me so to preach and exercise
myself as to be able to count thousands of souls as stars to
my crown in eternity. Spirit of God, rest upon me and at-
tend my labors.” Again he says: “It is my heart’s desire
to be a useful, holy, and powerful minister of Christ, and
see the work revive all over the district. I pray for my
preachers, that they may be as flaming seraphs from on high,
sent on a mission of eternal importance.” It is no marvel
that the cause of God prospered in his hands. He was
abundant in labors, preaching whenever he had opportu-
nity. He flamed like a seraph himself, and imparted his
spirit largely to his preachers. He had converts at most
of his quarterly-meetings, and was himself hungering and
thirsting for perfect love. He was a man of one work.
His consecration was entire. His lips seemed to be touched
with a live coal from the altar. A vein of deep piety was
exhibited in all his public ministrations and in his private
walk. He was a close student that he might become a more
useful man. He consecrated all his knowledge to God.
He brought every power with which God had invested him,
and laying all upon the altar, said, “Lord, I am thine.”
After a round on the district, he had to leave for the Gen-
eral Conference in Baltimore. He started in March in com-
pany with Bishop McKendree and the Rev. Thomas L. Doug-
36 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

lass and wife. They did not get a palace car at Nashville
and arrive at Baltimore in twenty-six hours. The old Bishop
was in a carriage and the rest on horseback. They crossed
the Cumberland Mountains into East Tennessee, and thence
into North Carolina and through Virginia to Baltimore. It
took them nearly six weeks to accomplish the journey. It
seems now almost incredible that Mrs. Douglass, who weighed
more than two hundred pounds, should have been able to
accomplish such a journey on horseback. Of this trip
Bishop Paine writes in his “Notes of Life:” “It would be
unnecessary and too tedious to dwell upon the incidents of
that long trip over mountains and bad roads, or to repeat
by narrative the sufferings endured by my loved and vener-
ated charge, Bishop McKendree, and how often I bathed
his.aching and swollen feet after a hard day’s travel, and
sought by self-denial to get him a night’s rest. Passing
through North Carolina, visiting my relations, and thence
through Petersburg and Richmond, Virginia, we arrived at
Baltimore on May 1, 1824. I was sent with the Bishop to
the house of William Watkins, a merchant living in Light
street, where we found a hearty welcome in an intelligent
Methodist family. The memory of Mrs. Watkins and of
that precious circle’ is still fresh and sweet after the lapse
of fifty-eight years.” The number of delegates was one
hundred and thirty-four, of whom Robert Paine was the
youngest. The address of the Bishops was prepared under
the direction of Bishop McKendree, but it was the compo-
sition of the youthful delegate. He wrote and rewrote it.
He subjected it to the closest criticism both by himself and
the old Bishop. He spared neither pains nor labor to make
every word the very best that could beselected, and to have
every sentence without a fault and beyond criticism. He
always said that its preparation involved the greatest labor,
but that it was to him a real benediction. It opened up to
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 37

 

him a new field, and caused him to study more thoroughly
the constitution of the Methodist Episcopal Church. It
was during the preparation of this address that he laid the
foundation for that rigid and accurate construction of ec-
clesiastical law for which he became famous during his long
service as a Bishop. The General Conference of 1824 was
a most important one in the annals of Methodism, but it is
needless here to enter into any detail of its work. At its
close our young presiding elder returned as quickly as possi-
ble to his district. He spent the time in preaching, holding
camp-meetings, and more thoroughly organizing the work
on the Forked Deer District. Cheerfully, bravely, con-
scientiously had he labored in his Lord’s vineyard.
38 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

CHAPTER V.

Improvine 4s A PREAcHER—MARRIES Miss Susanna Beck—
STATIONED IN NasHvILLE—His WorK—PReEsiping ELDER—
CoLLEGE PRESIDENT.

E now see Robert Paine developed into a preacher of
very high order. He had unction. He had variety.
He was deeply spiritual, and often thrillingly eloquent. His
imagination was capable of the highest, grandest flights.
It was difficult for him to curb it. Its creations were some-
times almost bordering on the extravagant, but they startled
the people by their originality, and moved them by their viv-
idness. He was even then felt to be the rising man in the
Methodist Church. And yet his life was one of the great-
est self-denial. Well educated, brought up in the best soci- .
ety, with the finest prospects of wealth and fame, capable of
distinguishing himself in law or medicine, and of shining in
politics, he surrendered all to Christ. Like Moses, the serv-
ant of God, he preferred the reproach of Christ to all the
honors and treasures that this world could afford.

At the close of the Conference-year Robert Paine and
Susanna Beck were united in the holy bonds of matrimony.
She was the daughter of John E. Beck, a prominent lawyer
of Nashville, and a granddaughter of General James Rob-
ertson, the pioneer of Middle Tennessee. I knew her well,
and can testify to her exalted character. She was of hand-
some person, and in every way attractive. Her manners
were characterized by great modesty and refinement. She
was possessed of rare intelligence, and was gifted in con-
versation. She was amiable, prudent, and deeply pious,
and was a helpmeet to her husband.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 39

 

On the 25th day of November, 1824, the Conference
opened its session at Columbia, Tenn. At its close Robert
Paine was read out for Nashville. He entered immediately
upon his pastorate. He became at once identified with his
people. His congregations were the largest that had ever
attended upon the ministry of a Methodist preacher in that
young city. His influence constantly increased. He be
came a power for good. He was caressed and flattered.
He continued oumble and prayerful. He laid down these
principles, by which he would govern his conduct and keep
himself unsoiled: “ Be not too familiar with any one. Too
great intimacy is often injurious. When I feel a wrong
spirit rising within me I will be silent. Words are like oil
on fire. I will never do myself what I condemn in others,
It is a great shame for a preacher to do what he does not
and cannot approve in others. Nothing but grace, grace
can save my soul.” He continued a hard, close student.
Besides his Bible and theological works, he studied his
tory and astronomy, and employed himself often in compo-
sition. He was returned to Nashville at the ensuing Con-
ference,

During these years A. L. P. Green and John B. McFer-
rin, together with John M. Holland and G. W. D. Harris,
had been admitted into the work of the itinerant ministry.
Methodism was on rising ground. Holland became a great
power, and dying while still in his prime, left an immortal
influence behind him. Harris, too, was a man of great
ability and large influence. He is gone, but his children
still show the power of religious culture and the lasting influ-
ence of consecrated talents. Green and McFerrin were for
a long time co-workers in building up the cause of Christ
in the city of Nashville. While all honor is due to these
noble brethren, and while the venerable McFerrin still
stands solid as a block of granite, sustaining and advancing
40 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

all the interests of true religion, it is safe to say no man
ever did more for the cause of God in Nashville than Rob-
ert Paine. For years after he left the State an appointment
for him to preach would draw larger congregations than
could be called together by any other man. All honor to
the Youngs and Kelleys, the Sawries and Hargroves, and
the rest who have had charge of churches in Nashville, and
who have helped to make that city a great center of Chris-
tian influence throughout the land; but to none of them is
our holy religion more indebted than to Robert Paine, who
laid the foundation so deep and strong more than fifty years
ago. He continued in Nashville as station preacher and pre-
siding elder of the Nashville District until the Conference
of 1829, which was held at Huntsville, Ala., in the month
of November of that year. At that Conference he was ap-
pointed Superintendent of La Grange College, Alabama.
He thought it was like Zion, and so wrote, “ Beautiful for
situation, the joy of the whole earth.” From the top of
this mountain was presented one of the most beautiful views
upon which the eyes ever rested. Stretching along from
its base, abounding in fertility, in a high state of cultiva-
tion, and as far as the eye could see, was the magnificent
Tennessee Valley. The Tennessee River flowed through it
like a thread of silver, increasing its beauty and adding to
its fertility. The flourishing town of Huntsville, which has
always been the pride of North Alabama, was at the eastern
end, and it extended west to the territory then occupied by
the Indians in North Mississippi. Tuscumbia, Florence,
Leighton, and many rich plantations, on which were splen-
did mansions, were in full view. At that time the village
of LaGrange had a population of some four hundred peo-
ple. They were mostly planters who had gone thither for
health. The Rev. Daniel P. Bester was conducting a flour-
ishing school for young ladies, The outlook was hopeful.
BISHOP OF THE M. E, CHURCH, SOUTH. 41

 

The whole scene was inspiring. The young President had
been unwittingly preparing for this very field of labor.
During these years of study he had been fitting himself
for this work without ever thinking that he should be
called away from his regular and loved employ of preach-
ing the gospel. At Nashville he had become intimately
associated with the Rev. Philip Lindsley, the President of
the University. Appreciating his talents and learning, Dr.
Lindsley had conferred upon him the degree of A.M., and
the Trustees had elected him to a place in the Board of
Trust. So he was not unfamiliar with the method of con-
ducting colleges. He knew human nature, and was born
to rule. His excellent practical common sense now stood
him in hand. He had learned to keep books when he was
a merchant’s clerk, and this was of prime importance in
managing the funds of the institution. His consecrated
piety enabled him to wield a mighty religious influence
among the boys. Soon there was a gréat revival. Many
were the young converts. Collins D. Elliott, the son of an
itinerant Methodist preacher in Ohio, aided largely in the
revival. He took charge of the young men, and formed
them into a large college class. Once a week he met his
class, and soon he became one of the most useful and suc-
cessful leaders in the Church. He was himself a deeply
religious young man, and his training at home and at Au-
gusta College, Kentucky, admirably fitted him for his work.
Deeply emotional, full of zeal, conscientious, earnest, and
often powerful in prayer, apt to teach, and giving to each
member the instruction needed, he made his class-room a
Bethel—a very house of God—to the young men and boys
who in such large numbers had embraced the Saviour.
Soon the Trustees prevailed upon the efficient Superin-
tendent to lay aside his modesty and accept the entire sit-
uation. In this the Faculty fully concurred, and in a year
42 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

or two Robert Paine was regularly declared the President
of La Grange College. In no department of our great
work is there greater strain upon all the powers of the
conscientious laborer than in this of education. To Presi-
dent Paine were committed all the interests of the college.
It was his business to select instructors, and recommend
them to the Board. He was to attend to the finances. His
financial ability was fully brought into requisition, and no-
bly did he meet his responsibilities. Without one cent of
endowment, without the necessary buildings, without local
patronage, and without the appliances and fixtures essential
to large success, he entered into this work of the Church.
He was an active member of the Board, and urged forward
all those measures that tended to give the institution a char-
acter which would enable it to increase its patronage and
extend its influence. In a short time Professor Sims was
called to the chair of Languages in Randolph-Macon Col-
lege, to the head of which Stephen Olin was called. About
the same time Professor Hudson was elected to the chair of
Mathematics in the Alabama University. C. D. Elliott
succeeded Professor Sims, and W. H. Ellison, the son-in-law
of Dr. Capers, was called to the chair of Mathematics.
BISHOP OF THE M. E, CHURCH, SOUTH. 43

 

CHAPTER VI.

CoNFERENCE AT PULASKI, TENNESSEE—I"ALLING METEORS—PREs-
IDENT OF La GRANGE CoLLEGE—GIFTS AND GRACES.

T was in the fall of 1833 that I first saw President Paine.
I was attending my first Conference in the town of Pu-
laski, Giles county, Tenn. I was standing with a few min-
isters of my class in front of the Methodist Church. One
of them said, “There they come,” meaning the Committee
of Examination. The chairman of this committee was
President Paine. He was then in the prime of manhood,
just thirty-four years old. His movements were the per-
fection of ease and grace. His form was so faultless that it
would have served as a model for the Apollo Belvedere.
He was in perfect health. His ample forehead, broad and
high, and then without a wrinkle, indicated the placidity
of his temper and the might and energy of his powerful
brain. His large dark eyes expressed so much of genius,
intelligence, and principle as to impress most deeply even
the most casual observer. His mouth indicated firmness,
and the whole contour of his features impressed me that I
was in the presence of a man of exalted character.

It was during this Conference, on the nights of Tuesday
and Wednesday, that the memorable meteoric shower oc-
curred, which is regarded as the most magnificent on rec-
ord. It was a grand sight. All the stars of heaven seemed
to be falling. Many were terrified, and thought the day of
judgment at hand. Some wept and others shouted. Many
prayed, and made wonderful confessions of sins committed.
President Paine looked upon the scene with rapt attention,
and with the admiration of the Christian and the scholar.
44 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

He had just been reading the account of a similar shower
on the 12th and 13th of November, 1799, the night before
his own birth. The next morning, before the beginning of
Conference, he was quieting all our fears by an explanation
of the occurrence and hy reference to these former showers
of which he had been very recently reading. I looked up
to him then as far above ordinary men, and as capable of
accomplishing the greatest human results. At as early a
day as possible I sought his counsel as to the propriety of
my going to college. He was exceedingly cautious. He
hesitated to advise me. He spoke of the advantages of a
college education, yet would he in no case interfere with
conscience. He therefore threw the responsibility upon me.
I was still a beardless boy. My father anxiously desired to
give me a classical education. I had promised him before
leaving home to do as he wished. I felt bound to keep this
promise, and therefore made my arrangements to enter at
once upon my studies. I so informed Mr. Paine, and he
cordially invited me to come as soon as possible, and to come
direct to his house. I can never forget the Monday after-
noon when I arrived at the college. I was in a sad plight.
I had been five days going one hundred and fifty miles. I
was worn and travel-stained. I had walked through the
mud and water for nearly ten miles. The President was
standing on the platform in front of the college chapel.
The boys were scattered over the campus. They were in
high glee, as the exercises were just closed, and for a time
they were free. They did not meet my ideal of college stu-
dents. They made the campus ring with their shouts. The
President turned to me, and said: “Boys will be boys; we
do not expect them to be saints.” I have been reminded a
thousand times of this utterance. It illustrated his sympa-
thy with boyhood. It showed his knowledge of human
nature. It gave me an insight into his management of his
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 45

 

boys, and revealed to some extent the secret of his power
over them. He did not attempt impossibilities. He did
not interfere with the innocent hilarity of youth. At the
right time he delighted in innocent mirth. His religion
never assumed the form of sour godliness. The play of
wit, the sense of the ridiculous, the enjoyment of humor, all
accompanied by the hearty laugh, were altogether compat-
ible with his notions of piety. While he set himself as a
ilint against all forms of vice, and held with a firm, steady
hand the reins of college government, he encouraged all
innocent amusements and healthful gymnastic exercises.
He was himself exceedingly swift of foot, and could excel
in many feats of agility. Against every form of vice
he brought all the power of his great character. The se-
verest irony and the sharpest wit when used by him would
often make the guilty boy writhe in agony. His denun-
ciation of vice in all its forms was the most scathing I
ever witnessed. Shame, remorse, anger, pride would by
turns rise up, and one or the other would almost compel
confession. Still he was patient and forbearing. He was
seeking reformation, and to this end his versatile powers
were all employed. College life was always irksome to
him. He greatly preferred the work of the pastorate. His
preaching was affected by this radical change. His taste
became more exacting. He hesitated between the different
words which presented themselves to his choice. The hesi-
tation seemed to proceed from an entire loss of words. This
was not true. Often, as he has told me, a half dozen words
would present themselves, and as he desired to use the best
he would hesitate and seem confused. The-hesitation was
often embarrassing, especially to his friends, who knew his
great powers as a sacred orator. During these years, when
the least was expected, he made some of his grandest efforts.
I recall a night in the college chapel when the Faculty of the
46 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

college and the students were almost the only hearers.
He was thoroughly himself. His thoughts, original and
stirring, were expressed in the purest English and with
faultless taste. His imagination seemed roused to its grand-
est creations. His feelings were all aglow, and he made an
appeal in behalf of our holy religion which moved that little
audience as I have seldom seen an audience moved. When
we came out, Professor Ellison said to me: “ Did you ever
listen to any thing equal to that? That effort would have
graced any occasion and gratified any audience. I wrote to
Dr. Capers a few days ago, and told him that the Church
at large did not know the wonderful power of President
Paine. Not at Conference before a large audience, not upon
any great occasion, but here at home, with not more than
one hundred listeners, he made efforts which I have never
heard surpassed.” He then went on to compare him with
those great preachers Drs. Capers and Pierce, and said,
“Paine is the equal of any.” The boys were proud of him,
and, as college boys will do, when out of his hearing called
him by the familar name of “Old Bob.” Old Bob, they
said, “could outpreach anybody.” In the fall of 1833 the
Rev. John C. Burruss came on a visit from Mississippi, and
attracted great attention as a most charming preacher. At
the Mountain Spring Camp-meeting, held near Courtland,
many of the college boys were present. The sermon of
Brother Burruss made a most powerful impression and ex-
cited universal admiration. He had a sweet, musical voice,
and was a word-painter of wonderful artistic skill. He was
an elegant Virginian, a gentleman of the old school. His
gestures were graceful, his articulation distinct, his pronun-
ciation accurate, and his emphasis tasteful and impressive.
Then he added to all this manners the most graceful and
courtly. His manners would have given him eclat in any
of the halls of royalty in the courts of Europe. North
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 47

 

Alabama was at that time the center of refinement. Court-
land especially boasted of elegant culture, and Mr. Burruss
was thé admired of all. So popular was his preaching that
the boys became alarmed. They began to dread a rival to
“Old Bob.” Sunday came. The day was all that could
be desired. The audience was one of the largest ever as-
sembled in North Alabama. As usual in those days, two
sermons were to be delivered at the noon service. Brother
Burruss was to preach first. He never appeared to better
advantage. He was about forty-five years of age, and at
the zenith of his glory. He seldom made a failure, and on
this occasion his effort was equal to his best. The graces of
oratory were never exhibited before a more appreciative au-
dience. He ceased while the charms of the most beautiful
word-painting and the softest and tenderest appeals in behalf
of the cross of Christ were telling largely upon a deeply
interested audience. President Paine was to follow. His
text was, “Why stand ye here all the day idle?” The ser-
mon of the gifted Burruss had aroused Paine, and fully pre-
pared him to do his best. He seemed to be clothed with
supernatural power and to come with all the authority of
of an embassador of Christ. His credentials from the court
of heaven could not have been more clearly read had they
been written in letters of gold. His caustic satire and ve-
hement invective presented to that congregation idleness in
a new light. That which had formerly seemed altogether
negative in its character now appeared as a sin of high
magnitude. Idleness was portrayed as a sin against self,
against society, against the Church, and above all against
God. There was dignity in labor, and glory in the work
of Christ. To labor in his vineyard was man’s highest
honor. To neglect it was the blight of all progress and the
ruin of the soul. Then with a voice like a trumpet, and
with an intensity of earnestness worthy of an apostle, he
48 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

invited, he called with all the authority of his divine mission:
“Go work in God’s vineyard. Go work to-day. To post
pone is ruin, to neglect is death!” A most profound impres-
sion was produced. He had equaled his grandest efforts.
He knew nothing of rivalry. He was above that, and so
was his great and good friend Mr. Burruss. The success
of one was the triumph of the other. I have given this
incident largely for the purpose of impressing this gener-
ous and noble Christian spirit upon the preachers of this
day. Let there be no ungenerous, unchristian rivalry, but
as in the case of the now sainted Burruss and Paine, let the
success of one be the triumph of the other. No man was
louder in his praise than was the noble Virginian. The boys
were in ecstasy, and declared that such a sermon was never
preached before.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 49

 

CHAPTER VII.

Srupyine Amone THE Rocks—CoLuEece Lire—Treacuine—
Rieip RequrrEMENTS—DANGERS—COURAGE.

N the meantime the college continued to increase its pat-
ronage and to gain influence. The President had the
department of Moral Science. He also taught geology and
mineralogy. He had a fine opportunity for the study of
geology, and he industriously availed himself of it. He
spent much time in the gorges of the mountain. He went,
like Hugh Miller, with his hammer in hand, breaking the
rocks and studying their composition. He penetrated into
the deep, dark caverns, and brought out many beautiful
specimens. Fifty years ago he declared that iron and coal
in great abundance would be found in the mountains of
North Alabama. He became a practical geologist, ahead
of most men of his day. At one time he spent twenty-four
hours without sleep in a cave near Tuscumbia, Ala., at
least one hundred feet below the surface. The density of
the atmosphere enabled him to endure and perform all this.
In his own department he studied Butler, Reid, Brown,
Stewart, Abercrombie, Say, Blair, Campbell, Alexander, and
Paley, and others. He was unequaled in the lecture-room.
Sometimes he would hesitate, and seem to be at a loss, while
at others he would be sublimely eloquent, and fill the ideal of
a great professor. At one time he would abound in illustra-
tions—unique, original, beautiful, and throwing the clearest
light upon the most obscure subjects; at another, he would
ask a few leading questions, and, without requiring or giving
any full analysis of the lesson, would dismiss the class. He
4
50° LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

required of my class a most rigid and thorough written
analysis of Campbell’s Philosophy of Rhetoric. This was
the greatest task of our college life, and possibly the most
profitable.

At the close of 1835 the health of Mrs. Paine began to
fail, The disease was of the lungs. With his invalid wife
he spent the winter in Louisiana at the home of her father,
Mr. Craighead. She never returned to LaGrange. I had
been the inmate of the family for months. She was a model
woman, and always treated me as a younger brother. She
died at her old home in Nashville, among dear friends and
in full hope of a blissful immortality. She was courageous
to the last, and insisted that her husband should attend the
commencement of the college in June, 1836. She knew
her end was near, but felt that she would survive until his
return. He left LaGrange about the 9th of June, 1836,
and arrived at Nashville just a few days before she entered
into rest. Her funeral-sermon was preached by his friend
Dr. J. B. McFerrin. She left two sons, John E. Beck and
James 8. They were bright and promising boys, and were
almost too young to feel the loss of their noble mother.
They both grew to be men. John studied medicine, and
died just in the prime of young manhood, and just as he
was entering upon a most useful career. James is still liv-
ing. At the opening of the session in September, President
Paine was at his post lonely and sad. The wife of his youth
had been taken, and although not a demonstrative man, he
showed in allthis walk and conversation that he was indeed
bereaved. At the same time he was faithful and diligent
in the discharge of all his duties.

In the winter of 1836-37 Professor Ellison resigned. He
was a noble specimen of manhood. For years he had filled
his chair with great acceptability and usefulness. His stern,
inflexible integrity deeply impressed itself upon the young
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 51

 

men of the college. Professor Collins D, Elliott was trans-
ferred to the vacant chair, and the writer was elected Pro-
fessor of Latin and Greek. At the same time Dr. Thomas
Barbour was elected Professor of Chemistry, and Henry
Masson, from Paris, France, was chosen Professor of Modern
Languages. Dr. Barbour was the son of the Hon. Philip
P. Barbour, of Virginia, who was one of the Judges of the
Supreme Court of the United States. The new professor
was a highly educated physician, and gave great satisfaction
to the students and Faculty of the college. It was in his
family that President Paine found a home for himself and
his two little boys. Mrs. Barbour did all in her power to al-
leviate their greatsorrow. She was a beautiful Christian char-
acter, and acted the part of a loving sister to the bereaved
husband, and sought to be a mother to his two motherless chil-
dren. The President could not have had more pleasant as-
sociations in those sad and lonely hours following the death
of his precious wife.

He was blessed too with a loyal Faculty. They were all
men selected by himself, and were ready to give him their
unanimous support in the administration of the college.
Professor Elliott had shown himself the able professor in
the department of Ancient Languages; he now gave him-
self with all his energies to the professorship of Mathemat-
ics. He was the close, earnest, faithful student. He gave
not more than seven hours to sleep and recreation. He
spent the remainder of the twenty-four hours in earnest
preparation for his great work and in doing that work.
He was seldom or never absent. He was a model of punc-
tuality and fidelity.

Soon after the organization of the new Faculty in the
spring of 1837, a sad occurrence threatened the best inter-
ests of the college. In the heat of excitement one student
killed another. They both belonged to excellent families,
52 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

and of course both had their friends. A fearful gloom hung
over the college. The students were terribly aroused. It
required all the prudence of the Faculty, added to the well-
known popularity of the President, to prevent permanent
disaster. The disaster was arrested, however, and in a short
time all was going on as usual. The power and influence
of President Paine were never more severely tried than
during these dark days. He stood the test and bore him-
self with such prudence as not only to retain but to increase
his popularity. His conduct was approved heartily by the
friends of the boy who was killed, and he ever after received
the sincere gratitude of the friends of the unfortunate youth -
whose dagger had pierced the heart of his fellow-student.
It is not often that a man can pass unscathed through an
ordeal so trying as was this. It was, however, in the fall of
the year 1837 that difficulties arose in the absence of the
President which amounted to a rebellion. Upon his return
to the college, he found some half dozen suspended students
armed and threatening destruction to the college and death
to several members of the Faculty. It was feared they would
burn the college. Of course they had their friends among
the students; consequently there were. two parties. One,
and the smaller party, for the Faculty, and ready to stand
up for law and order; the other sympathizing with the sus-
pended students. Again and again was attack threatened
and fully expected. Once a violent youth presented a pis-
tol right in front of the President and aiming at his heart.
All the manhood of President Paine was aroused. Rising
to his full height, without the quailing of a nerve and with
the authority of “right which makes might,” he said, “Put
down that pistol!” The pistol dropped, and the defiant
hand hung limp and powerless by the side of the intimi-
dated and trembling youth. It was soon found that the
inspiration came upon these rebellious students from a very
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 53

 

bad man who kept the village hotel. Consequently the
students were forbidden to have intercourse with him, or
even to enter his hotel. This aroused the demon in the
hotel-keeper, whose name was McCaleb, and he threatened
death to the President. At the same time he had a diffi-
culty with a Mr. White, who was an excellent citizen and
a good friend to Mr. Paine. Mr. White had business in
Columbus, Miss., and started there in November, 1837 or
1838, on horseback. He was pursued by McCaleb on the
fleetest horse to be obtained in the country. When White
had reached a few miles out from Columbus, on his return
home, he was met by McCaleb and shot through the head.
The murderer was so close to his victim that the hair and
head were burned by the explosion. McCaleb turned from
theroad, went through the forest, and through a boggy swamp
that was never known to be crossed before by any living
being, and had always been regarded as impassable. He
was never found. It was soon reported that he was hiding
in the gorges of the mountain, and seeking an opportunity to
commit another murder. This time Mr. Paine was to be
the victim. His friends were alarmed. McCaleb was known
to have threatened his life, and as he had murdered Mr.
White in cold blood, and was a most desperate man, we
had our fears for the safety of our beloved President.
During all this time the man for whom such anxiety was
felt was as free from excitement as though no threat had
been made and no danger was to be apprehended. Cool
and self-poised, he never bore himself with more dig-
nity, never seemed freer from all trepidation. His home
was then one mile from the college, and there were many
places along this mountainous pathway in which a cold-
blooded assassin might hide, and from which he might ac-
complish his deadly purpose. I was with him almost daily,
and talked with him freely, and he told me invariably that
54 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

the emotion of fear had never been felt by him, and that he
was never more quiet or trustful than during all this excite-
ment among his friends. The boys were subdued, and Mc-
Caleb never returned.

I have detailed these facts to show a trait of character
which would have fitted him to command an’army. He
had the highest courage. He never lost his presence of
mind in the midst of danger. He was the stuff of which
martyrs are made. Moral courage, as free from rashness on
the one hand as from cowardice on the other, was one of
the great features of his exalted character.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 55

 

CHAPTER VIII.

UNSELFISHNEsS—CouURAGE—SoRROW.

MONG the strong traits of character which exercised a
more than usual influence among the students was his
unselfish devotion to them and their best interests. He ex-
hibited this devotion whenever occasion called for it. In
the fall of 1834 or 1835 there was held a camp-meeting at
Spring Creek, between La Grange and Tuscumbia. It was
just at the beginning of the great abolition excitement,
which afterward culminated in the terrible civil war and
in the final extinction of slavery. A young Methodist
preacher, a student of the college, was appointed on Sat-
urday to preach. His theme was the unsatisfying nature
of all earthly things. In the discussion he attempted to
show that satisfaction could be found alone in the religion
of the Lord Jesus Christ. In the absence of religion there
was always unrest. The people might be ignorant or intelli-
gent, in a high or low state of civilization, might belong to
any class or race, Caucasian or African, and without relig-
ion there was no peace, no rest, no satisfaction. He illus-
trated this truth by reference to the unsettled state of Eu-
rope at the very time at which he was speaking. He also
instanced insurrections among the slaves in Virginia. Man
without religion cannot be happy. Without it he is like the
spirit wandering, seeking rest and finding none. The utter-
ance of the youth produced the greatest excitement. He
was denounced as an abolitionist, and threatened with Lynch
law. Word was sent to his presiding elder that he must not
appoint the young man to preach—that he should not preach
56 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

there again. He was kept in entire ignorance of the excite-
ment until the storm was ready to burst upon him. The
presiding elder and other older ministers decided he should
preach. President Paine came to him and said: “I know
that you did not mean to stir up the negroes, but some of
the people believe you did. Your remarks, in a most ex-
aggerated form, were carried to Tuscumbia last night, and
men are here to-day who say you shall not preach, and if
you attempt to, they are ready to do you violence. You
have friends here who will stand by you. It is, however,
prudent, and will be for the best, that you make an expla-
nation and tell the people that nothing was farther from your
intention than to produce any such results as are now feared.”
The young minister told him that he would make any ex-
planation that he might think necessary, though he had not
the least fear of danger. Accordingly at eleven o’clock, be-
fore at least two thousand people, the poor innocent boy
arose to make the explanation. Men were standing in
threatening mood all around. He simply said that his
remarks had been strangely misunderstood, and that he
had never thought of producing any stir among the ne-
groes, and that nothing was farther from his thoughts than
an insurrection, and that he would deprecate such insurrec-
tion as much as any man who condemned his remarks. He
did not occupy five minutes in his explanation. He retracted
nothing. Heexpressed no regrets,and asked no pardon. He
sat down amid looks which foreboded any thing but good.
President Paine arose. He never in all his life appeared to
better advantage. His dark eyes flashed. His features
were all aglow. Determination, courage, and perfect fear-
leasness characterized his whole manner. He said that he
had listened to the sermon. “The excitement was as unjust
as it was unfounded. Nothing had been said to produce it.
A man that would stir up an insurrection ameng the happy
\

BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 57

 

and contented slaves in that peaceful valley would be little
less than a fiend, and would deserve universal execration.
My young friend does not belong to that class. He is a
born Southerner. His father owned slaves, and he was
born and reared among them. He would do them no
harm. Hewould do you none. He is free from all blame,
and must not be hurt. He has friends here strong, honor-
able, and true. You can inflict no Lynch law upon him.
I will head the company of brave men who will see that
not one hair of his head is touched.” His courage never
shone more conspicuously than on that occasion. His pu-
pil, whom he knew well, had unwittingly aroused feelings
against himself at once violent and unjust. The President
at once placed himself in the front, and was ready to do or
die in the defense of right. At first his remarks fell on
unwilling ears. Some cried, “Take him out!” “Stop him!”
But he kept on until the universal hush indicated that he
had gained his point and was master of the situation. He
ruled the storm. He quelled the mob. Like the great
man that he was, he remained strong and firm, command-
ing the feelings, breaking down the spirit of the mob, sub-
duing a very excited multitude, and rising in the estimation
of all. The religious services immediately followed—songs
and prayers, sermons and exhortations, until the religious
excitement overcame all other feelings except with a very
few “lewd fellows of the baser sort.”

The Rev. Alexander Sale preached one of his strongest
sermons, and many were at the altar for the prayers of the
Church. At three o’clock the Rev. F. A. Owen, who was
the presiding elder, insisted that the young preacher should
again occupy the pulpit. So without molestation the work
went on. Many were converted. So bright and happy
were many of those conversions, and so sincere and earnest
were the cries for mercy, that a saintly woman who was
58 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

called on to pray commenced the prayer with these re-
markable words: “O Lord, but for the sobs of grief
which come from these dear penitents, we could almost
believe we had crossed over the river and were now for-
ever beyond any more suffering and sorrow.” So ended,
in songs of peace and prayers full of love and faith, an
excitement which, but for his decision of character and
magnetic power over congregations, might have ended
in a most horrible manner. He was the bow of peace
spanning the cloud. He showed that he knew the right,
and dared maintain it. The mutterings of wrath did not
alarm him. He did his duty, and left the result with his
God. I need only add that the boy-preacher is the writer
of these pages. He passed through the storm without
knowing its violence until it was spent. The brave and
generous C. D. Elliott, now of Nashville, Tenn., stood by
the President, and firmly sustained his young friend and
pupil. He awoke within him then and there a feeling of
gratitude which fifty years have not extinguished. Col. R.
A. Baker, Major John Cockrill, and others, stood by the
young preacher then, and remained true till death.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 59

 

CHAPTER IAs

SrconD MarriacgeE—Dreatra—GrieF—REVIVAL—MARRIAGE TO
Miss Mary Exuiza MinbwaTtER—FamILy.

T was during the year 1837 that he was united in mar-
riage to his second wife, Miss Amanda Shaw, the daughter
of a Presbyterian minister in Columbia, Tennessee. She
was worthy of him, and made his home ever so happy for a
few short months, She died without issue. Her death was
universally lamented. Her funeral-sermon was preached
by the Rev. Alexander Sale, and she was buried in the little
cemetery in the mountain. The first Mrs. Wadsworth and
President J. W. Hardy both sleep near her.

Often during these sad years he seemed almost inspired
while delivering his lectures to his class. Once in 1839 he
was lecturing the senior class on the Evidences of Chris-
tianity. He attacked Hume with arguments at once terse,
strong, and unanswerable. He opposed his errors with all
the power of inexorable logic, and then employed his own
inimitable satire and blighting sarcasm with powerful effect.
Then he appealed to conscience in a manner at once so
sincere, so tender, and so touching as to move some of the
class to tears. He told me himself that in all his career as
an instructor he had never seen such visible manifestations
of the power of truth. To the minds of the intelligent class
the boasted argument of Hume was the merest begging of
the question, and the great philosopher, like a stranded
ship, was left to sink in the muddy waters of the foulest
error. Conviction affecting reason and conscience was pro-
duced, and it expressed itself in the pallid countenance and
tearful eye, and after awhile in the earnest prayer of peni-
60 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

tence, which was followed by the sound conversion and the
shout of praise.

From that lecture a revival spread through the college.
Nearly every student was moved. It embraced every class
and almost every individual. I do not think there were
more than six in the college who remained unconverted.
Along the slopes of the mountain, in the rooms of the stu-
dents, on the way to the church and when returning from
it, in the chapel and in the recitation-rooms, the work of
Divine grace was manifested. I have seen the President
and other members of the Faculty—ministers—arise in the
pulpit, intending to preach or exhort, and begin first to give
out an appropriate hymn, and fifteen or twenty would rush
up and kneel at the altar. Nothing could be heard but the
cries of penitents and the shouts of those who had been con-
verted. Such scenes I have never witnessed before or since.
It lasted for months. Young converts would lead the
prayer-meetings; not one ever refused to pray when called
on. There are numbers in heaven to-day the fruits of that
revival. The college became vocal with praises. By night
and by day the work progressed. Its good effects were seen
for years in the college, and its fruits have been felt in the
pulpits of the different churches occupied by pastors con-
verted during that revival. President Paine always loved
to recur to that powerful work of God because its first mani-
festations were so clearly the result of an appeal to the
reason.

In November, 1839, the Rev. Robert Paine was united
in marriage to Miss Mary Eliza Millwater, the daughter of
Mrs. Turner Saunders by her first marriage. Miss Mill-
water was much younger than her husband, but was well
fitted to be his wife. She was modest, amiable, sensible, and
pious. Mrs. Saunders possessed the highest qualifications
of a wife and mother, and was remarkable for her ease and
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 61

 

elegance in refined society, and her unostentatious devotion
to our holy religion. Herself the wife of a minister, she
rejoiced in this union of her daughter to this distinguished
minister and future Bishop of the Church.

It is very seldom that a happier marriage occurs. For
forty-three years they walked together and were fully
“agreed.” To them were born four sons and three daugh-
ters. The sons were Robert, now living in Aberdeen; John
Emory, who studied medicine, graduated with distinction,
and died young; George W., now attorney at law and living
in Aberdeen, recently married to a granddaughter of Dr.
A. L. P. Green, in Nashville, Tenn. The youngest, Dr.
William, unmarried, and lives with his mother in Aberdeen,
practicing his profession. The daughters are Sarah Felix,
married Mr. P. Hamilton, and also lives in Aberdeen;
Ludie, married Rev. John H. Scruggs, of the North Missis-
sippi Conference, and at this writing is stationed in Colum-
bus, Miss.; and Mary, who married Mr. Wendell, now re-
siding in Tunica county, Miss.
62 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

CHAPTER X.

Proressor TUTWILER—Honors—AGENTS.

N the year 1840, Prof. Henry Tutwiler became a member
of the Faculty. He was the selection of the President.
Professors Elliott and Barbour had both resigned and Pro-
fessor Tutwiler was to fill the chairs—Mathematics and
Chemistry. A more fortunate selection could not have
been made. He was thoroughly “furnished” for both
departments. A graduate of the University of Virginia,
he fully sustained the high character of that institution.
He was a profound and rich linguist, a thorough mathe
matician, and a superior chemist. He was learned without
pedantry, pious without bigotry, a gentleman without a
blemish, a character without a flaw. He gave the full
weight of his great character to aid the President and his
associates of the Faculty in building up the college, increas-
ing its patronage, and enlarging its influence. He continued
in the institution until his friend and colleague was elected
and ordained Bishop in the Church.

In the year 1842 the degree of Doctor of Divinity was
conferred upon President Paine. It came from the Wes-
leyan University, Middletown, Conn.; and Dr. Nathan
Bangs was the President, and announced the fact in a
characteristic letter to his old friend, with whom he had
served often in the General Conference, as follows:

MippLetowy, Conn., Aug. 6, 1842.
My Dear Brother: Agreeably to a resolution of the Joint Board
of the Wesleyan University, the degree D.D. was conferred on you
at our late commencement, and your diploma is now filled and signed.
I know not, however, how to send it to you; but if you have an op-
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 63

 

portunity to send for it by the persons calling on me, or, if I should
be absent (as I expect to leave here), on Professor Smith, it can be
obtained.

Wishing you all temporal and spiritual blessings and much pros-
perity in your work, I remain yours affectionately, N. Banas.

Rev. Rosert PAINE.

This degree was very unexpected by the President. At
that time there were hardly a dozen doctors of divinity
in the Methodist Church. Doctors Bangs, Olin, Durbin,
Capers, Fisk, and a few others, made up the whole number.
Now they are numbered by the hundred; then hardly by
the score. Dr. Paine literally blushed beneath his honors.
He was unwilling to be called Doctor. His modesty was
as shrinking as his merit was great. He neither desired
nor sought any worldly glory. He preferred to be called
Brother Paine, or plain Mr. Paine. Merit, real merit, is
nearly always modest. It was especially so in his case. I
never knew Dr. Paine to boast of any act of his life. He
shrunk from applause. He published but few of his ser-
mons. Hissplendid baccalaureate addresses seldom saw the
light. He presided over the college for more than sixteen
years, and delivered to each graduating class an address
worthy of preservation, and many of them of rare excel-
lence, and during al] that time I think he suffered but two
to go to press. He seldom spoke of his own efforts, and
never in a laudatory manner. In the early history of the
college, when he had but few advanced students, he wrote
many speeches to be delivered on commencement occasions.
These speeches embraced almost every variety of compo-
sition. They were witty, humorous, satirical, moral, phil-
osophical, and religious, by turns. When the address was
announced, he simply said, “Written for the occasion.”
They exhibited the greatest versatility of both tact and tal-
ent, and added largely to the interest of commencement-
week. Only a few knew that he was the author. I have
64 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

often lamented the loss of these productions. Published,
they would have placed him among the keenest satirists of
the age. Against popular vices he was intensely severe,
whilst follies, “humbugs,” etc., he laid on in such a manner
as to make them thoroughly ludicrous and provoke uni-
versal mirth and laughter. Had he been ambitious of fame
in this direction, he might have placed his name along-side
those of Juvenal and Horace asasatirist. He always seemed
to me to shun rather than court praise, to decline rather
than seek honors. He had now received, without seeking
either directly or indirectly, the degree of Master of Arts
from the University of Nashville, and of Doctor of Divinity
from the Wesleyan University. He had fairly “won his
spurs,” but was almost too modest to wear them, and pre-
ferred always to conceal them from public view.

It may not be amiss, before leaving the college to which
he gave so many years of his valuable life, to present to the
reader the men whom he selected as agents to solicit and
collect money for building and endowing the institution.
Among the earliest was Rev. William McMahon. He was
in many respects one of the first men in the Conference.
He was a fine financier, a good manager of men, a superior
preacher, and possessed of great energy and perseverance in
any good cause. He was devoted to Methodism and to
Methodist education. He loved North Alabama, and La
Grange was the brightest crown of North Alabama Method-
ism. Dr. McMahon secured some money and was well re-
ceived in Georgia, and obtained partial codperation from the
Methodists of that great State. La Grange, however, was
soon found to be too remote, and the means of access were
then too difficult, to allow of any continued patronage. In
a few years Emory College began its useful career. It was
the object of President Paine to have the codperation of all
the Southern Conferences, and make La Grange a great cen-
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 65

 

ter, attracting its pupils by the hundreds and from a united
South. Had he succeeded in this, he would have accom-
plished much more than he did. As it was, the Centenary
College in Mississippi, and the school first at Covington and
then at Oxford, Ga., now Emory College, taught him that
the concentration of a united South upon La Grange would
be impossible.

John B. McFerrin was also employed in his youth to
plead the cause of the college before the Methodists of Ten-
nessee. He was then a strong man, and in the vigor of a
robust young manhood. He did what he could, but was not
satisfied to give his youthful vigor to begging money for the
college. He, however, learned well the art of begging, and
became almost irresistible in that department of our work.
If the man lives who can invent more arguments, or exhibit
more tact, or make stronger appeals in behalf of any great
benevolent: enterprise than Dr. John B. McFerrin, I have
never known him. He was trammeled in this agency by
some resolution of Conference requiring that he should not
ask for large sums. He wanted no bands on his free limbs,
and after a year’s toil, not altogether fruitless, he returned
to the pastorate.

I must not omit the Rev. Littleton Fowler, who became
a most successful agent, and served the college until he was
sent as a missionary to Texas to supply the place made
vacant by the death of Dr. Martin Ruter. At one time it
was thought that he would be able to secure ample endow-
ment for the college. He was a fine specimen of the Ken-
tucky Methodist preacher, and both as a man and as a
preacher deserved the highest respect and the largest con-
fidence.

President Paine went also into the local ranks, and found
the Rev. Simpson Shepherd and secured his services as
agent - the college. Mr. Shepherd was a warm-hearted
66 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

Irishman of magnificent presence. Among a thousand men
he would be pointed out as a leading character. Then, he
was an eloquent preacher and superior to most men on the
platform. His rich Irish brogue added to the force of well-
chosen language and to the power of a voice of unusual
ecmpass, tone, and strength. He did active and successful
service for years for the college. Among the most success-
fal of the agents employed by President Paine was the Rev.
J. W. Hanner. As a preacher he had no superior in the
Tennessee Conference. Dr. Hanner traveled extensively
over Alabama. He was unremitting in his toil, and self-
denying to an unusual extent. He preached, he visited, he
made private appeals, he delivered public addresses, and by
every means in his power sought to do the work of a master-
workman. At the time of his employment as a college
agent, John W. Hanner would have been acceptable in any
pulpit—welcome to any city church in the Connection.
These were some of the men selected by President Paine
and employed by the Trustees to aid him in the difficult
task of building up La Grange College. That the col-
lege was not endowed was his misfortune, but not his
fault. It commenced its career without endowment and
without buildings. To succeed, buildings must be erected,
and a Faculty equal to the best must be engaged. The
tuition fees were not at all equal to the support of six pro-
fessors. To pay the professors, agents had to collect from
two to three thousand dollars a year. This, added to the
tuition fees, would give a support by no means liberal to the
Faculty. At one time I knew the President to give of his
salary one thousand dollars in order to save the college.
He did this voluntarily for years. That is to say, his salary
was eighteen hundred dollars, and he voluntarily reduced it
to eight hundred dollars a year,and thus saved the insti-
tution. Other officers imitated his generous sacrifice and
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 67

 

followed his example. In this way, and in this way alone,
the college could have been preserved and continued on its
career of usefulness. J doubt whether the annals of any
college will show greater sacrifice than was shown in this
one act of its devoted President. I was a member of the
Faculty at the time, and was deeply impressed by his man-
ner when he came to me with the proposition, and felt that
he deserved all the confidence and the honor which he en-
joyed. His sacrifice of one thousand dollars a year, and
thereby securing a sacrifice of two or three hundred from
each member of the Faculty, seems to me now as one of
the noblest acts of a noble life, and one rarely equaled in
the history of colleges. Besides making this sacrifice, he
gave as liberally as any other man to the institution. By
employing the best agents to be found, either in the Confer-
ence or out of it, by securing the best talents in the Faculty,
and visiting the Legislature again and again, by labor and
self-denial he labored to give to the Church and to the
country an institution of learning which he hoped would
be perpetual. Was all his labor lost? We will see.
68 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

CHAPTER XI.

CaR os G. SmirH—CoLiEecE Lire CLlosine—WorkK
ACCOMPLISHED,

ie the year 1843 I was called to the presidency of a new

enterprise—a school for young ladies at Athens, Ala.
Dr. Carlos G. Smith was elected my successor as Professor
of Languages in La Grange College. A wiser selection
could not have been made. Dr. Smith entered upon his
duties in September, 1843. He soon proved himself a mas-
ter-workman that needed not to be ashamed. He was an ac-
complished scholar and an elegant Christian gentleman,
and did faithful service to the college. The college was
possibly never better manned than at this time. It com-
manded wide and universal respect. For years it kept
along-side of the best institutions of the country. The
time was rapidly approaching when its laborious and
gifted President was to be called to a more responsible po-
sition in the Church, and a much wider field of action.
Let us see what had been done in the way of molding
character and in gending out educated men to bless the
Church and the world.

Among the ministers sent out were the Rev. William
R. Nicholson, now a Bishop in the Reformed Episcopal
Church; the Rev. Joseph E. Douglass, for a long time suc-
cessfully engaged in the great work of education; James O.
Williams, who was wonderful for his magnetism, and some-
times for eloquence of a high order; P. J. Eckles, a man
of rare merit, accurate scholarship, and patient devotion to
duty; C. W. Rozzell, after graduating with honor, entered
upon the work of the ministry, and while using his in-
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 69

 

fluence and establishing a name worthy of menticn among
the good and great, was called to his final reward; Dr. C.
W. Bell, one of the most distinguished ministers of the
Cumberland Presbyterian Church, is another of the noble
band sent out from La Grange College during the adminis-
tration of Dr. Paine. Then A. P. McFerrin, Bynum, Dun-
can, Henning, and many others, among whom we take pleas-
ure in mentioning Dr. Alva Johnson and Rev. R. V. Taylor,
two noble men, the latter still a member of the Memphis
Conference, holding diplomas with the well-known signa-
ture of Robert Paine. Then among lawyers we name
Eaward O’Neal, now Governor of Alabama; the talented
Lewis, also Governor of the State in troublous times; and
the versatile Clements, the rival of Yancey, both a poet and
novelist, a politician and lawyer, a writer and a speaker.
No State ever boasted a purer citizen, a nobler man, a gen-
tler Christian, an abler jurist than was William M. Byrd,
a graduate of the college in its early days, 1837. As re-
tiring as Cincinnatus, and as meritorious as he was modest,
he lost his life by a railroad accident while in the midst of
usefulness, and while returning from a mission of peace.
Judge W. B. Wood, who is ever foremost in the great bat-
tle of life, foremost in Church and in State, ready to lead an
army or hold up the banner of the cross, received his train-
ing from this successful educator. Judge H.C. Jones, the
able prosecutor and powerful advocate, the terror of evil-
doers, and one of the most respected of the citizens of Ala-
bama, was a graduate in 1840. Gen. Thomas Rivers, the
only brother of the writer, a lawyer in Memphis, Tenn.,
and a Representative in Congress from the Memphis District,
was also an alumnus of La Grange, and among its earlier
graduates. Col. Thomas Avery was also a lawyer of dis-
tinction and a member of Congress from Memphis, Tenn.
He was a man of talents and great moral worth. Joel T..
70 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

Pulliam, one of the most successful members of the bar in
West Tennessee, died a humble Christian. Of physicians
we may mention Dr. Joseph Towler, of Columbia, Tenn.,
who has long stood at the head of his profession, and is
to-day one of the brightest lights in Tennessee, a scholar, a
gentleman, a Christian worthy to be sent forth by the form-
ing hand of Robert Paine. Dr. J. J. Pulliam, like his
brother the lawyer, became eminent in his profession, hon-
oring his alma mater, and honored, respected, and lamented
by all who knev hira. Dr. Thomas Maddin, of Nashville,
Tenn., whose name is the synonym of all that is courtly in
the gentleman and skillful in the physician, the worthy son
of a noble sire, and the equally worthy pupil of a dis-
tinguished teacher, is numbered among the alumni whom
President Paine sent forth to bless the world.

So we could go on enumerating men, in every profession
and in no profession, who were developed into noble man-
hood by him whose life was one continued scene of successes
both in the school-room and in the pulpit. He ever exer-
cised toward his old pupils the exultant feeling which
filled the heart of the Roman matron when, pointing to her
sons, she said, “These are my jewels.” He met them every-
where, as he went all over the South; and whenever he met
them there were warm greetings and tender memories.

Augusta College, Kentucky, was possibly the first great
collegiate institution—in all respects a collece—undertaken
by the Methodists of the South. La Grange College was
the second in point of time. As we have shown, it was in
1830. This was before Randolph-Macon, and before Emory,
of Georgia. Was all the labor lost which Dr. Paine and
his associates performed during these sixteen years and six
months? We think not. Dr. Wadsworth succeeded to the
presidency in 1847, and was in turn succeeded by President
Hardy. These were able men, and devoted much time and
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. we

 

labor to the building up of the college. In 1853 President
Hardy died. He was universally lamented. His death
was a terrible blow to the college. Under another Presi-
dent, in the year 1854, the people of Florence offered to pay
off an old debt, to give to the Conferences better buildings,
and to secure fixtures, local patronage, and endowment suf-
ficient to justify removal. The college was removed and
its name changed. At the breaking out of the great civil
war in 1861, it numbered two hundred and twenty-five stu-
dents, and graduated a class of thirty-three. It also had a
clear endowment of fifty thousand dollars, and was entirely
out of debt. During the war its endowment was lost, and
its doors were closed. Bishop Paine, in his “ Notes of Life,”
says: “Randolph-Macon opened under charter in Mecklen-
burg, Va.—I believe in 1832—while I organized La Grange
in 1830.”

Randolph-Macon has been transferred to Ashland with-
out a change of name or of relations, while La Grange Col-
lege changed its location to Florence, Ala., and has since
become the “Normal Alabama College,” and is now a use-
ful and flourishing institution. This is true; the college
at Florence was actually given to the State of Alabama by
the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. So the work of
Bishop Paine and his associates and successors still lives in
an institution which promises great and increasing useful
ness to the State which received it as a free gift from the
Church. The propriety of this transfer of a valuable prop-
erty, unincumbered by debt, will not be discussed in these
pages. Suffice it to say that to the last of his life Bishop
Paine always regarded the school at Florence as the con-
tinuation of the one organized by himself in 1830. So
most certainly it is, though under another name and under
different auspices. Its value is largely due to the early
efforts of President Paine and his associates.
72 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

CHAPTER Xl.

Lover FOR THE CHURCH.

BEG the reader to pause for a moment and to -consider

one of the leading traits of character as developed in the
life we are now sketching. This trait was love for the Meth-
odist Church. From the moment of his conversion and im-
mediate connection with the Church to the day of his death,
he never would have hesitated to die for its interests in obe-
dience to the call of the Holy Spirit; and from love for the
Church he surrendered wealth, position, worldly prospects,
and entered upon the troubled life and severe labors of ar.
itinerant Methodist preacher. At that early day Method-
ism was not what it is now. It was then a despised sect.
It had not in all its borders a single minister who ever
ranked as a Doctor of Divinity. Colleges and universities
had failed to recognize the talents and learning even of our
Bishops. All these institutions of learning were in the
hands of other denominations, and were presided over by
many of their ministers. At the period at which Robert
Paine entered upon his great life-work I do not suppose that
a single State university was or ever had been presided over
by a Methodist minister. With asalary of a hundred dol-
lars a year, there was no prospect of ever rising to wealth.
He could have chosen other of the learned professions, and
have won both wealth and honor. His personal magnetism
would have made him a leader in politics, while his wit and
sarcasm, together with his clear, logical mind and natural
powers of oratory, would have soon placed him in the first
ranks as a lawyer. But love for the Church was stronger
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 73

 

than love for any of the emoluments which could be secured
by any other profession. The same enthusiastic passion sent
him into the then wilderness of Alabama to preach the gospel
to its sparse and scattered population. His circuit occupied
nearly one-fourth of the State, and his labors were so great
as to almost wreck for the time being his strong constitution.
After most extraordinary and continuous labor, he went up
to the Conference almost an invalid, and the presiding
Bishop saw it would not do for him to be returned to that
field. It was love for the Church alone that caused him
to take charge of La Grange College. He had to make
sacrifices of which he never made any boast and whick
were never known to the Church. He had large and valu-
able possessions in Nashville, which he might have kept
and looked after until they would have yielded him enough
to satisfy any reasonable desires for wealth. As all his in-
terests were in Alabama, he sold this city property before
Nashville had fairly entered upon its career as a prosperous
city. He knew that he was making a great worldly sacri-
fice, but the Church demanded his labors elsewhere, and
the sacrifice was readily made.

Again and again had he resigned his position as President
of La Grange Colleze, and as often had he withdrawn it
because the Church required that he continue at the seat
of her cherished institution.

At a certain time, when the election of delegates to the
General Conference was about to begin, I knew him to rise
in his seat, and beg the brethren for the sake of the Church
not to cast their votes for him. He said: “We have here
a distinguished transfer from another Conference. He ought
to be elected. His talents, his devotion to the Church, his
having heretofore filled the place of delegate from another
Conference, and his great influence in the General Confer-
ence, all demand that he be sent as a delegate from the
74 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

Tennessee Conference, of which, by transfer, he has just be-
come a member. Brethren, I urge his claims, and beg that
you vote for him and not for me.” I recollect well the time
and the scene of these remarks. The transfer was elected,
and so was Robert Paine. We could not do without his
services in the General Conference just at that important
juncture.

At a still later period it was love for the Church and a
sense of duty that caused him to accept the office of Bishop.
He says in his diary: “What shall I do? Am not suited
for its heavy responsibilities, constitutionally unfit — too
hasty, too little self-possession, want of decision; above all,
want of more piety, absence from my dear family. I give
myself to God and his Church for life and in death. May
all be his! What shall Ido? I almost sink under it. O
God, to whom I have long since devoted myself and my
all, direct me!”

He loved the doctrines of the Church. He was a thor-
ough Arminian and a most devoted Methodist. Regenera-
tion and the witness of the Spirit he had experienced on
the memorable 9th of October, 1817. He never doubted
that. The following letter will show how he regarded the
doctrine of sanctification, as taught by Mr. Wesley and
other standard writers in our Church. The letter was writ-
ten to the Rev. J. S. Spencer. He says:

Shortly after my conversion—indeed, I may say at once—I began
to exhort my family to turn to God. I could not be silent, and soon
I was trying to preach. I scarcely paused to reason on the question
of my call to the ministry, but was in the work and at it directly. I
have not since felt at liberty to quit the itinerant work. Long
and earnestly I sought the blessing of perfect love. Once or twice
while preaching upon it I have felt constrained to say I know the
blessing is attainable from my own overpowering emotions of the
divine fullness, but unfortunately I have not, after calm reflection,
felt satisfied as to my having attained it. I believe in it, pray for it,
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 75

 

and amid many discouragements arising from my own want of faith,
am still trying to be wholly devoted to God. I wish I was as well
satisfied of my attainment of this blessing as I am of the truth of the
Christian religion and of the doctrine of Christian holiness. I 1e
gard it as the great desideratum of the ministry and membership. We
need holiness more than any thing else. We need other things, many
things, but this most of all. We need it to make us happy and use-
ful. The Church will degenerate, and cease to be a working and
spiritual body, unless she aspires after holiness; and nothing but ho-
liness will keep alive in our preachers the simple, fervent, and self-
sacrificing spirit of our fathers. For this there is no substitute as to
success or final happiness. Methodists are committed by their creed
to this doctrine. Consistency demands that, believing it, we seek the
blessing. We are the only Church which has boldly taken the ground.
[f we be faithful to it, God will not abandon us. If not faithful, he
will cast us off and raise up another more devoted and holy people.
He ought to do so, and will do it. He cannot deny himself, and ho-
liness is his requirement—“ Be ye holy, for I am holy;” “Without
holiness, no man shall see the Lord.” This work is begun in con-
version, but its consummation in perfect love has as distinctive and
clear a witness from the Holy Spirit as our regeneration. It is our
privilege and duty to seek this state and this evidence. God help
us! Yours truly, R. Pare.

I doubt whether any member or minister in all our vast
Connection ever loved the Church with a deeper, holier
fervor.

At two different periods in his life he felt called upon tc
defend the peculiar doctrines of Methodism against the at-
tacks of ministers of sister denominations. This he did
bravely and successfully. He showed the rarest ability in
ecclesiastical and doctrinal conflicts. Calvinism felt the
shock throughout the South. From the day that its errors
were exposed by Robert Paine, then in his early manhood
in Tennessee, to this very time, the ablest ministers of that
faith have failed to preach the revolting points of the West-
minster Creed. Election and reprobation, as taught in the
Shorter Catechism, and as argued in Calvin’s Institutes,
76 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

Lave not been often presented even from Calvinistic pulpits.
Both with his pen and in public preaching he exposes errors
which he regarded as dishonoring to God as they were op-
posed to his revealed will.

Yet with all his love for the Church of his choice, and with
his readiness to defend the truth and to oppose error, he was
always charitableand courteous. After a debate which lasted
for days, the Christian spirit which prevailed between the com-
batants so affected the listeners that a deep religious impres-
sion was made. This being followed up on the next Sunday
by an appeal from Mr. Paine, a great awakening succeeded.
The revival which followed was one of great power, and it
did not end until there was a general baptism of the Spirit
and many were happily converted to God. Both parties to
the contest engaged in the revival, and as a rare occurrence
a hotly contested debate terminated in a splendid revival of
religion.

And yet with all his love for the Church of his choice—
its doctrine and polity—he was as far from bigotry as he
was from indecision. A pronounced Methodist, he was ever
ready to give the right-hand of fellowship to all that named
the name of Christ. A Methodist, but not a sectarian; de-
cided, but not bigoted; earnest, but not exclusive—he com-
manded and deserved the love of all true followers of Christ.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 77

CHAPTER XIII.

THE GENERAL CONFERENCE OF 1844—TuE SEQUENCE.

HE General Conference of 1844 was now approaching
Dr. Paine was of course a delegate. Bishop Andrew
in the interval of the Conferences of 1840 and 1844 had
become connected with the institution of slavery. He was
without a stain upon his moral or religious character. His
connection arose from having married a woman who was a
slave-holder. He went to the Conference with no apprehen-
sion of the terrible ecclesiastical storm which would be raised
around his devoted head. He and his friends in the South
soon saw the storm gathering. He was to be sacrificed.
There was no alternative. It was resolved to be the sense
of the Conference that he no longer exercise episcopal func-
tions. To submit to the passage of this resolution without
a protest would have been unjust to the Bishop, and, as Dr.
Olin admitted, a perpetual bar to the continuance of Meth-
odism in the slave-holding States.

Good and great men differed. The struggle was between
giants. The Bishop was virtually deposed. The South must
sustain him. His case excited the deepest sympathies of the
best men in the North. No one can ever forget the speech
of Dr. Olin. He himself had been connected with slavery.
He had severed the relations so far as he was individually
concerned by selling his slaves. He believed this to be legal
and proper. He was to go North. His health demanded
it. He could not carry his slaves withhim. He sold them,
and used the money. He felt that the good of the Church
demanded now the immolation of his friend, who was cer-
tainly no more guilty than himself. So the work was done,
78 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

Dr. Paine was placed on the committee of nine appointed
especially to devise means for a peaceable separation. Pru-
dent and good men from both sections were on that com-
mittee. Dr. Paine was chairman. Never was prudence
more needed. Never was there a greater demand for Chris-
tian charity, The committee acted wisely and well. The
South was satisficd—nay, more, was gratified. If peace
could not be enjoyed except by a severance of Church rela-
tions, then was it their duty to separate. Let there be no
strife. This was the Christian motto. To conserve peace
was the design of this committee, and the whole object of
its action. The peaceloving Capers, the majestic Winans,
the sweet-spirited Drake, the two Pierces—father and son—
and the peerless Bascom, with others from the South, were
lending all their influence to carry out this grand measure.
Then there were those from the North, not less pious, and
not less efficient in promoting a measure believed to be for
the best interests of both sections. Such men as Nathan
Bangs, Bishop Morris, and Stephen Olin brought to bear
the weight of great character and the power of holy charity
to effect an arrangement which would quiet the storm by
pouring oil upon the troubled waters. The action of the
Conference of 1844 resulted, as is well known, in the or-
ganization of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. In
1845 the convention of delegates chosen in exact accordance
with the plan of separation assembled in Louisville, Ky.
At that convention the organization was peacefully and
unanimously effected. In its proceedings Dr. Paine was
conspicuous. His firmness, caution, wisdom, and piety were
all needed and brought into requisition. He delivered be-
fore the convention an address admirable in its spirit, con-
vincing in its logic, and powerful in its effect. The conven-
tion appointed the meeting of the first Southern General
Conference to be held in Petersburg, Va. It was presided
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 79

 

over by Bishops Soule and Andrew. It was then manifest
that both these Bishops would continue their episcopal fune-
tions. The adherence of Bishop Soule to the Southern
Church was the result of deliberate reflection and of con-
scientious convictions on the part of that great and good
man. He was the senior Bishop of the Methodist Episco-
pal Church. He was revered at the South as almost with-
out a peer. He was “every inch a man,” and every inch
a Christian of the highest type. So the Southern organi-
zation could in no sense be termed a secession. It was le-
gitimate. It was proper. It was approved of God. It
contained all the cardinal doctrines and the discipline of
the undivided Church. Had the terms of separation been
rigidly and properly complied with by both Churches,
North and South, much evil would have been averted,
and much violent controversy avoided. The plan was de
vised by the committee of nine, and was well carried out by
the Louisville Convention. To Dr. Paine as much as te
any other man are we indebted for this great pacific meas
ure, honorable to both sections and perfectly acceptable to
the South. He was faithful to the high trust committed to
him, and though opposed to controversy was drawn into
one of rather a heated nature with the Rev. Thos. E. Bond.
That controversy will not be revived in these pages. Through
it all Dr. Paine adhered to the most rigid demands of truth,
and always showed himself the courtly gentleman and the
dignified Christian minister.

A long and friendly correspondence was kept up between
Dr. Paine and Bishop Morris in reference to the best inter-
ests of the Church. He and Bishop Morris had been friends
from early manhood, and this friendship continued unbro-
ken and rather cemented, more tender and confidential, all
through the heated controversy which attended and followed
the organization of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South.
80 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

Amid all this strife, these two men continued to love each
other as did David and Jonathan. Their example was beau-
tiful. Their Christian charity shone all the brighter because
of the bitterness which was fostered to an extnnt which re-
flected no honor or glory upon Christian character, and
which certainly lessened the world’s respect for the religion
of meekness, forbearance, and love.

But let the dead past bury its dead. The long strife, we
trust, is ended forever. One of his last acts was to have
Bishop Peck at his house, and to enjoy with him the sweet:
est Christian converse. Bishop Peck acknowledged the hos-
pitality with the most touching evidenccs of fraternal love.
To see these two Bishops, one above four-score years, the
other past his three-score and ten, commune in the spirit of
love, and enjoy each other’s society as they did, were a ben-
ediction in any age of the Church. Especially was it a ben-
ediction at the time and under the circumstances in which
this beautiful display of fraternal love was manifested.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 81

 

CHAPTER XIV.

GENERAI. CoNFERENCE oF 1846—STRUGGLES— VICTORY.

US far we have followed Dr. Paine all along his early

years and to the prime of mature manhood. We have
seen him the sprightly, mischievous school-boy; the mer-
chant’s faithful clerk ; the close, earnest student, poring over
the classics and delving into mathematics. We have seen
him the humble penitent, the happy Christian, and the
youthful missionary. Like David, he goes forth with peb-
ble and sling to conquer the Goliath of sin. Without prep-
aration, without license, without more than one month’s ex-
perience of the religion of the Lord Jesus Christ, he is found
preaching the everlasting gospel. On he moves and upward
he rises until he has become the popular young preacher,
attracting crowds of hearers in the rising towns of Tennes-
see, and especially in the promising young city of Nashville,
Tenn. A presiding elder and a delegate to the General
Conference immediately after his ordination as elder in the
Church of God, he continues the same humble, prayerful,
faithful man. The loved companion of Bishop McKendree,
and aiding that venerable man in the preparation of the
Bishops’ Address to the General Conference before he was
twenty-five years of age, he seems all unconscious of the
height to which his piety and talents and singular moral
worth have raised him. For sixteen years we have seen
him the rising President of one of our oldest colleges. In
all these positions he exhibits the highest manhood and a
capability for any work to which the Church might call
him. The General Conference of 1846, which was held at
Petersburg, Va., found it necessary to elect two Bishops.

6
82 LIFE OF ROBERL PAINE, D.D.

 

Bishop Soule was getting to be an old man. Then, he was
troubled with a chronic disease which often unfitted him for
duty. Bishop Andrew could be called upon for years to
come, but he could not do all the work needed. William
Capers and Robert Paine were chosen to this most impor-
tant and responsible office. It was not desired, not expected
by Dr. Paine. He had a young and growing family. He
loved his home. Heshrunk from notoriety. It was repug-
nant to his feelings, and for a time opposed to his judgment
He hesitated. He prayed. He struggled. He spent a
night of sleepless agony. He passed through all the throes
which have accompanied great men when called by Provi-
dence to a great work. He almost rebelled. Conscience
—tender, well instructed, and which had always been kept
void of offense toward God and man—asserted its authority.
At last he yielded, and was happy. The Rev. Fountain E.
Pitts, who spent the night with him, and saw the depth of
his agony and witnessed the fearful struggles of his great
soul, and who had been a great revivalist, said that the con-
flict reminded him of the wails of penitence which he had
often heard from persons under the deepest conviction for
sin. And he further said the victory was as complete as
he had ever witnessed in the conversion of a soul. When
the struggle was over and the victory had been won, a holy
calmness, a great submission to the Divine will, and a firm
resolve to meet all the responsibilities of his high and holy
office, followed, and he rose to the full height of his great
calling, and settled the question then and there forever.
Such was the conflict of soul through which he passed to
the highest office in the Church—the highest office on earth.
He was not elated. The office had sought him. The honor
had come unbidden. Duty to God and man, made clear by
the word of God and by the Holy Spirit, was the one great
and all-sufficient reason for assuming such grave responsi-
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 83

 

bilities. So on Thursday, the 14th day of May, 1846, he
was most solemnly set apart and ordained to the work of a
Bishop in the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. The
services were conducted by Bishops Soule and Andrew.
They were deeply impressive. It was in Washington Street
Church, Petersburg, Va. The congregation was large, and
the scene a hallowed one. All the men engaged in the cer-
emony were men of mark. Bishop Soule arose in all the
dignity of his high office, and never appeared more a Bishop
than at that time. Bishop Andrew, meek, subdued, yet
strong, showed that his episcopal robes were still unsoiled,
and that they had not been rudely torn from his manly
form. Dr. Capers, radiant with celestial light, gentle as
John, evangelical, earnest, eloquent, and deeply pious,
received with meekness the mantle of Asbury, and by the
imposition of hands was most solemnly consecrated as an
overseer of the Church of God. Robert Paine, younger by
many years than his colleague, in the maturity of his great
intellect, with a selfabuegation worthy of a martyr, with
victory already flashing from his dark, expressive eyes, and
with submission, firmness, and faith mingling with the high.
est resolve, solemnly took the vows, and from that hour be
came a Methodist Bishop. Never did man take vows more
conscientiously; never were vows fulfilled more faithfully.
At the close of this General Conference he returned to
La Grange College. The parting with Trustees and Fac-
ulty and students was very sad to him. Here he had spent
more than sixteen years of his valuable life. The Trustees
had always trusted entirely to him. Before this they had
clung to him, refused again and again to accept his resigna-
tion. The students loved him as a father, and looked up to
him as their best friend and wisest counselor. The Faculty
all felt that it would be almost impossible to find a successor
who would combine all the qualities of a great President
84 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

which belonged to Bishop Paine. His magnanimity, his
readiness to assume responsibility, his fearlessness in admin-
istering discipline; his magnetism among the boys, drawing
them all to him; his ability as an instructor, and his love of
truth and perfect freedom from all cant or pedantry, had all
tended to endear him to his brethren of the Faculty, and
to cause the deepest regret at his departure. As the time
neared for his departure upon his first episcopal tour, he
felt still more keenly the sacrifice which he was making in
obedience to conscience and at the call of the Holy Spirit.
His home was never more charming. His young and de-
voted wife, by all that was beautiful and elegant in her
home, by her prudence, piety, and devotion to him, her
care for the boys by a former marriage, and her sweet
young motherhood, had made his home as bright and happy
as it had once been lonely and desolate. And now for months
at a time this sweet home, so pure, so attractive, must be sur-
rendered, and he must go from it. He knew that his own
dear children needed his watchful eye, his fatherly care and
advice. He must go along the western borders in the Indian
Territory, and wherever duty might call him. The methods
of travel were mostly by the old stage-coach, rarely by,
steam-boat, still less frequently by railroad. It required
weeks of travel, painful and cheerless, to go from one Con-
ference to another. The time occupied in travel was any
thing but pleasant. From the time he left his home on his
first tour until his arrival at the seat of his first Conference
was nearly two whole weeks—weeks without conifort, and
of constant exposure.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 85

 

CHAPTER XV.

Bisuop Parner on His Rounps.

T was on September 6, 1846, that Bishop Paine left his

home, then in La Grange, Alabama, on his first round of
episcopal duty. He took the stage at dark in Tuscumbia.
He was the only passenger. After passing Ripley, Missis-
sippi, on the 17th, the horses ran off with the stage, turned it
over and broke it. The driver was caught under the bro-
ken stage and partially disabled. The Bishop was unhurt.
He had to stay in the swamp alone for hours, until a wagon
could be obtained in which the journey was pursued to
Holly Springs. On the 19th he arrived at Memphis, Ten-
nessee; on the 21st started on a steam-boat up the Mississip-
pi River. On his way to Hannibal, the seat of the Missouri
Conference, he made as close observations as possible. His
journal abounds with brief notices of the geological forma-
tions. He always did this. The high hills, the limestone
and chert, all attracted his attention. These observations
had enabled him to prophesy the great mineral wealth
to be found in the mountains of North Alabama, and were
the means of his discovering and calling attention to the
vast quantities of coal found in Illinois and Missouri. Of
these facts he tells us in his “Notes of Life.” The first
Conference over which he presided began its session in the
town of Hannibal, Mo., on the 30th of September, 18-6.
John H. Linn was the stationed preacher, and with him he
made his home. George W. Bewley, to whom in the ab-
sence of a Bishop he had given a certificate of transfer
86 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

from the Tennessee Conference many years before, was still
m connection with the Western Conference. He was lying
ill of consumption. He knew that his days were few. He
was ready and anxious to go. The meeting between these
old and dear friends was exceedingly tender. When the
dying man saw his old friend, now a Bishop, it affected him
deeply. They met again on earth: the one just entering
upon a new and untried field of labor and usefulness, the
other ready to exchange labor for reward.

Many perplexing legal questions came up at this Confer-
ence. They were readily and correctly decided by the new
Bishop, who had been a godson of Bishop McKendree, and
was already well versed in ecclesiastical law. These ques-
tions originated in the recent division of the Conference—
the St. Louis having been separated from the Missouri. He
felt deeply his responsibility. He prayed most fervently
for Divine help. He was quick yet cautious, generous and
sympathetic but impartial and inflexibly just. Not only in
the chair but in the cabinet did the Bishop feel most intense-
ly his need of Divine help. As he entered upon his work, he
writes in his diary: “This is my first Conference. Lord, help
me.” A world of meaning is expressed in these two short
sentences. What work of man is so delicate and so difficult
as that of determining the stations of the preachers? Con-
flicting interests, family relations, the fitness of men for the
different conditions of the work, the special need of partic-
ular churches, the absolute necessity for frequent removals,
and above all the great question, How can the cause of
God be best promoted in this arrangement of the appoint-
ments?—all gave him the greatest concern. He was a
magnanimous man. He was in deep sympathy with the
preachers, and would never afflict one if he could avoid it.
He loved and honored the Church, and desired above all
its spiritual growth, and was of course unwilling to send
BISHOP OF TUE M. E, CHURCH, SOUTH. 87

 

to any charge a man who might be rather a curse than a
blessing. The question with him was, Who is the right
man for each pastoral charge? When this was settled, and
it was found that without severe affliction the appointments
could all be made, then he was happy. No man that has
filled the episcopal chair ever felt more deeply the fear-
ful responsibility resting upon him than did this Bishop,
through all the years of his episcopacy. There was greater
need than usual of the most consummate prudence in mak-
ing the appointments at this his first Conference. It wasa
border Conference; and many will remember that for years
all along the border were still heard the dying echoes of a
most fierce and terrible ecclesiastical war. Prudent men
were needed at certain points, or great grief might befall the
Church of Christ.

He passed through a fine country from Hannibal to
Boonville. He continued to. notice the encrinites, pentre-
mites, and other fossils, and marked the existence of coal
from St. Louis to Hannibal, Glasgow, Boonville, etc. On
this route he traveled by many different modes of convey-
ance, from a stage-coach to a skiff. At Boonville he held
the St. Louis Conference, which began its session on the 14th
of October and closed on the 20th. From this Conference
he went into the Indian Territory. He visited the different
tribes. He learned much of their character, and still more
of their wants. He was among the Osages, the Wyandots,
the Creeks, the Cherokees, etc. He visited the different
schools and missions. He was at the Baptist mission and
the Quaker Mission as well as at our own. He had been
for years a close student of ethnology. He had especially
studied the origin of the American Indians, and had
in a sharp but friendly controversy with Dr. A. L.
P. Green opposed the idea that they were the ten lost
tribes of Israel. He pursued this study by the closest ob-
88 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

servation of their traditions, festivals, religious rites, lan-
guage, and superstitions. He preached to them through an
interpreter. He saw their agents, and felt how greatly they
had been imposed upon. He became well acquainted with
our missionaries, and was deeply sensible of their trials and
discouragements. He remained in the Indian Territory
until after the Indian Mission Conference. The day he was
forty-nine years old he says: “This day I consecrate myself
wholly to Him and His Church. O for a pure, wise, and
devoted soul, holy and useful! Indian Mission Conference
began.” After the Conference, of which his old Tennessee
friend the Rev. W. L. McAlister was the Secretary, he
continued to visit places in the Indian Territory. He was
with the Choctaws, the Creeks, and the Cherokees, and wit-
nessed the progress of civilization among them. During this
trip he was greatly exposed. The water-courses were all
high, and he had to cross them in “dug-outs” unskillfully
managed and in a “tottering condition.” Especially was
he exposed in crossing the Arkansas River, which was much
swollen and threatened to capsize the little canoe whirling
round and round in a rapid and dangerous manner. He
passed by different forts and schools, and at last arrived safe
and thankful at Fort Smith, Ark. Here he met thousands
moving to Texas. “Wagons, wagons were crowded along
the banks of the river”—so he enters it. At Van Buren
he met the Arkansas Conference, which commenced its ses-
sion on November 25. Again his knowledge of ecclesiastic-
al law was tested. Many legal questions were propounded,
and all readily answered. The Conference closed on the
30th of November, and he started immediately to Little
Rock. After remaining at Little Rock, waiting for a boat,
he started down the river for home. After passing Napo-
leon a fearful accident occurred. A flue collapsed—the
boiler burst—all was a scene of wild confusion. The cap-
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 89

 

tain was alarmed, and unable to command his crew. One
man was torn to pieces and others hurt. The Bishop took
command, gave directions to throw out the tiller-rope and
to land the vessel. Calm, trustful, strong, he alone had
the presence of mind to do what was needed. The crew
obeyed. The vessel was saved. The passengers, too, with
grateful hearts acknowledged their obligations to the good
Bishop. Like St. Paul when his vessel was sinking, he took
charge of the men, and proved himself a man trustful in God,
but a soul so much above the ordinary man that he alone
of all that were on board showed ability to rule in the
midst of the most fearful confusion and in the presence
of death. When all was accomplished that could be done,
he wrote: “Merciful God, what a scene! Thank God it
was no worse.”

I do not know that any incident in the life of the Bishop
more fully exhibits the greatness of his character than the
one thus briefly narrated. His presence of mind in the
face of disaster, his calm self-possession in the midst of
unusual confusion, his power to command men unknown to
him, his actually taking the place of the experienced but
frightened captain and saving those that were not killed by
the explosion—all show a greatness of soul rising to a height
at once sublime and rarely reached by any man. Another
boat passing soon carried them to the Mississippi River in
safety. Here they were transferred to a boat bound for Mem-
phis. Arriving at Memphis, he met with Bishop Andrew,
spent some time with him in sweet and holy communion,
heard him preach his famous sermon on family government,
and with a thankful heart started to his home in Aberdeen,
Miss. During his long tour his family had removed from
La Grange, Ala., to this place, Aberdeen. After passing
over “terrible” roads and being upset in the stage, he ar-
rived at home on the 17th of December, 1846. He had
90 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

been absent a little more than three months. This was his
first experience as a Bishop. He was happy. A loving
wife had proved herself worthy of being the wife of a Bish-
op, and welcomed him to their new home. It was a happy
meeting. The children were so glad to see him who was so
good and tender a father, and whose’ presence was such a
benediction to the home circle. He simply writes: “ Home.
Thank God ten thousand times! All’s well.” In this
happy home he had rest. No man ever loved home more.
Aonid these loved ones he was to some extent repaid for the
hazards and self-denials of his long and eventful absence.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 91

 

CHAPTER XVI.

Fuirinuine His Mission.

FTER a brief sojourn with his precious family, he left

Aberdeen on February 15, 1847, to attend the Texas
and East Texas Conferences. He went by Mobile, staying
with his old friend Col. R. A. Baker, and baptizing his son,
Alexander Price. He stopped a day or two in New Or-
leans, and was most cordially entertained in the family of
another old friend, H. R. W. Hill. He had known Broth-
er Hill in Tennessee, and had witnessed his powerful con-
version at the first Conference that he ever attended at
Franklin, Tenn. On February 26 he left on a steamer for
Galveston, Texas. He was terribly seasick. He writes in
his journal: “Sick,sick. Roughest sealeversaw. Had to
turn back and put into Barataria Bay. A miserable day.”
He arrived safe, after this stormy voyage, on March 1; was
cordially received and welcomed by friends in Galveston.
He remained a day or two; preached on “Lovest thou me
more than these?” On the 5th of March he left for the
seat of the Texas Conference, which was to be held at a big
school-house in the neighborhood of his old friends Chappell
and Hargrove, and near to Brother Bragg’s. This place
was beyond Houston, and not far from the Brazos River.
He had to go part of the way on horseback, and to spend
one night in a dirty hovel with hogs and vermin; but at the
Conference he had a good time with his old friends, and
especially with such men as Whipple, Thrall, Alexander,
Fisher, DeVilbiss, Haynie, Hamilton, and others. He
greatly enjoyed his visit to his old friends who had minis-
92 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

tered to him so kindly when he was a boy on the Tusca-
loosa Circuit, At Father Chappell’s they showed him a
coin which had been given by him to one of his boys nearly
thirty years before. It had been kept in memory of the
young preacher all that time. On the 16th of March he
left his old friends for the East Texas Conference which
was to be held at Clarksville, and was to begin the 31st
of March. He had to go the entire distance on horse-
back. The roads were bad, and the fare along the route
still worse. He was badly mounted. The trip was one
of the most disagreeable of his life. It was during the
Mexican war, and the country was much excitd by false
rumors in reference to General Taylor and his army. He
suffered along the way from a severe attack of sickness;
but, sick and sore from rough roads and miserable fare,
he traveled on. Sometimes he was hardly able to sit
on his horse, but there was no place at which he could be
much bettered; so he kept in the saddle, and jogging along
on a poor one-eyed horse, until he arrived at Clarksville in
time for the Conference. He preached on the Sabbath of
this Conference to an immense congregation in the Presby-
terian church, and had great liberty. His text was, “Occu-
py till I come.” He had been sick during all the Confer-
ence. He saw the great need of more preachers in the
Conference. He felt the responsibility resting upon the la-
borers whom he was to send out to occupy that vast territo-
ry. Full of his subject, he felt that God was near, his
Spirit resting upon him, and he gave them one of his very
best gospel sermons. After the sermon he ordained six
deacons, and in the afternoon five elders. On the 7th the
Conference closed. He started again on horseback and
made his way to Shreveport, La., thence by steam-boat to
New Orleans and to Mobile and home, where he arrived on
the 22d of April. He had been absent from home more
BISHOP OF THE M. ©. CHURCH, SOUTH. 93

 

than two months, and hed held but two Conferences. In
less than cne year he had trave‘ed over many States and
through different Territories. He had seen sizhts such a:
even +: his extensive experience were entirely new. He had
been among the Indians, and traveled extensively through
their Territory. He had been by the battleground 57 Sa!-
tillo, and was at one time not far from the battling hes: of
Taylor and Santa Afia. He had at one time been los: in
the deep forests of Texas, and had spent nights in the ms:
disagreeable and dirty haunts. He had been compelled to
travel when so sick as hardly able to sit on his horse. He
had witnessed the blowinz up of a steam-boat; had been
compelled to take charz< of the terrified crew. But he was
again at his home. He was made welcome by the best of
wives. In all his absence she never uttered one complain-
ing word. Ged had called him; she would not by word or
et discourage him m his great mission. He said to me:
Rivers, few persons know what a wife I have. he is the
“ravest of her sex, and as for firmness I know not her equal.
I do not see how I could do the work of a Methodis: Bishop
were it not for her. She has great responsibilitizs. and
cneets them with a patience and firmness that almst pute
me to the blush.” “uch were the contents of the “alabas-
ter box” which he poured upon the head of this good woman
during life. I like this. It :-nds forth the exces: odor.
It is 80 much better to give this testimony long bezure the
burial of the loved one. aid a Bishop to me: “I do not
wonder that it is a great cr-ss for Bishop Paine to leave
his home. I have recently visited him, and he certainly
has much to attract him there, for he has one of the most
delightful homes I have ever visited.” It was to this most
excellent wife that home waz indebted for its sweetness, its
beauty, and its sunshine.
94 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

CHAPTER XVII.

Great MissionaRy MEETING—TERRIBLE ACCIDENT—WONDER-
FUL PROVIDENCE.

N September 7, 1847, he started on his second round of
Conferences. On the 17th he met Bishop Soule in
Louisville, Ky. They had a delightful session together.
Bishop Soule revised the entire work of the young Bishop,
and pronounced “the work all done right.” This gratified
Bishop Paine, and caused him to pen the ejaculation so
eften occurring in his diary, “Thank God!” From Louis-
ville he went to Harrodsburg, to hold the Kentucky Con-
ference. Here he met his old friend Dr. Bascom, and had
the privilege of hearing Jonathan Stamper preach before he
ordained the elders. They had a grand missionary meeting
on Monday night of the Conference. Dr. Sehon preached
on “Go ye into all the world,” ete. The Doctor roused up
the people, and after a short address from the Bishop a fine
collection was taken. During this collection the congrega-
tion was thrilled by the following incident. The Rev. G.
W. Brush came forward with a fine gold watch and chain,
and said: “This watch is the gift of a much beloved brother
to his sister. It was given by the brother on his death-bed.
It has been prized by this sister as a souvenir from a most
tenderly loved brother. Bishop, she wants to give this watch
and chain to the missionary cause. She desires that it be
appropriated to the Indians. Will you accept this from as
pure a Christian woman as can be found in all Kentucky?”
The gift was from Miss Sue Scantland, now Mrs. A. A.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 95

 

Morrison, of Denver, Col. She not only gave her beautiful
watch, but she gave herself to the cause of God, and became
the devoted wife of a noble Methodist preacher. More
than twenty years after the bestowal of this gift, in response
to the Bishop’s appeal, she and her devoted husband re-
ceived their appointment to Colorado at the hands of this
senior Bishop* Some one made Mrs. Paine a life-member
of the Missionary Society, which compliment was greatly
appreciated by the Bishop. This was one of the most de-
lightful sessions of an Annual Conference that he ever held.
The spirit of the preachers, the kindness of friends, the
fervor of the missionary feeling—rising almost to “ white
heat””—and the renewal of many old associations, all tended
to make the Conference highly enjoyable. He had Bishop
Soule with him a part of the time. The presence of that
great and good man was always a benediction to Bishop
Paine. In a few days he set out for the Louisville Confer-
ence, which was to be held at Glasgow. A letter to Mrs.
Paine will tell much better than I can what happened at
the beginning of his journey:
DAnvILLE, Ky., Oct. 4, 1847.

My Precious Wife: If God had not been here, your poor husband
would have been killed about two hours after I wrote you last. But
He to whom I consecrated myself and my all was present to preserve
and rescue me. Let us be thankful, for I am alive in soul and in
body, and though severely bruised and stiff, have suffered no serious
injury. These are the facts: I wrote to you from Harrodsburg on
the 30th of September that I intended to return to Louisville by
way of Lexington and Kentucky River. So, to do so I had to go to
Danville that evening and thence by stage next morning to Lexing-
ton. Brother H. J. Perry, presiding elder of this district, drove up to
my room and offered me a seat in his buggy with his wife to come
here. He lives here, and the distance is only ten miles. I accepted
it, and he rode on horseback and I drove. The horse was restive,

 

* While these pages were going through the press, we received the intelli-
gence of the death of Rev. A. A. Morrison.—Ep.
96 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

but rather unwilling to go fast. I disliked his movements from the
first, and was constantly on my guard, traveling slowly all the way.
After going about seven miles, and just as I was turning down a long
hill, he suddenly as lightning and without any known cause darted
forward. I pulled with all my might, and he began to kick and
plunge forward. I found it impossible to stop or even impede his
furious course, and tried to turn him off the turnpike against a gate,
but could not. By the time we passed the gate he was running his
best and kicking like seven devils were in him. He had already
kicked off the dash and foot-board, and once or twice his feet came
very near my face. I saw that there was no hope but in upsetting,
and getting clear of him as soon as possible. In this I succeeded by
turning the buggy over a large pile of rocks lying near the gate.
This upset us with a terrible crash and threw us on the turnpike
with tremendous violence. I literally slid on the turnpike three
feet, and lay stunned and apparently dead for some time. The first
thing I recollect was Sister Perry standing over me exclaiming,
“The Bishop is killed, he is dead!” But by degrees I became con-
scious, and was lifted up and finally brought to this place, where
kind friends and good physicians and a merciful God have taken
care of me. I am this morning able to get up, put on my clothes
with a little help, and write these lines to my dear wife. It was
found that I had suffered greatly in that awful fall, but I tell you—
and you know I never deceived you in all my life, and that I will
not lie—that I am not severely hurt anywhere. None of my bones
are broken, nor have I sustained any internal injury. And as evi-
dence of this, I shall resume my journey to Glasgow in time to meet
the Conference at its opening. I was bruised severely. All my
side except my chest is bruised; in several places the skin and flesh
lacerated. My hand, elbow, ankle, wrist, and especially my hip and
pelvis bones and thigh, are badly bruised and quite sore yet. I can,
however, walk across my room, and I know that all my bones are
sound, Thank God! The doctor has just examined me, pronounced
me unbroken, and given me his final directions. Sister Perry was
badly cut on the forehead and her foot hurt. The buggy was torn
to pieces. Iam in the midst of very kind friends who wait on me
with very great tenderness and let me want for nothing. All day
yesterday and last night and to-day I have been very happy. I feel
that I am the property of my God and his Church. {love God. I
trust him. He will take care of me, and bring me to my loved ones
RISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 97

 

again. He will, dear. I have renewed my covenant for God to live
and die. My wife, my children, my loved ones, my servants, all I
lay on the altar of my God, and dedicate all to him. My mind is
peaceful and happy. I have a humble but sure trust that he will
keep that which I have committed to his care. I am very happy in
this faith. Yes, here away from you all, in the solitude of my little
upper chamber, surrounded by strangers, and frequently calling to
xaind your loved faces, I do feel supremely happy and resigned. I
shall meet you here, and meet you in heaven. Wife, dear wife, let
‘us have more faith in God’s word, more TRUST. Several persons
have examined the place and some witnessed the accident, and all
agree that turning over the buggy when I did saved us, and are as-
tonished that we were not killed anyhow. The secret of it is, the
Lord protected us, His divine providence saved us. To him alone
be the praise now and forever. Keep yourself cheerful and happy.
My love to all. Yours forever, R. Pare.

In eight or ten days after this accident he wrote again to
his excellent wife. He had been mending allthetime. He
would be able to meet the Conference at Glasgow. He also
received many letters congratulating him and returning
thanks to the All-Father for his preserving care. Among
these letters was one of great tenderness from Dr. Bascom,
in which he recognizes the special providence in his not
being killed.

7
98 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

CHAPTER XVIII.

LeGaL QuESTION—TENNESSEE CONFERENCE.

N October 9 he left Danville for Glasgow. This, as the
reaaer already knows, was the anniversary of his conver-
sion. He says: “This day thirty years ago God converted
me. Thank God I have never willingly or wickedly de-
parted from him. O for more holiness and usefulness!”
Thus was he at each return of this anniversary expressing
his gratitude to God and renewing his vows of consecra-
tion. Down to the last of his long and useful life, this re-
turn of this anniversary was remembered as the beginning
of that life which had allied him so closely to God and his
holy cause.

On the 13th of October, 1847, the Louisville Conference
began. The following question was settled by the Bishop:
“William McCullen, a graduate of Trinity College, Dub-
lin, and a presbyter of the Church of England, and of
the Protestant Episcopal Church of the United States, for
various reasons had resolved to surrender his letters of or-
ders, and signified it to Bishop Smith, giving as his reasons:
(1) His unwillingness to read sermons; (2) His rejection
of the doctrine of the divine right of episcopacy; (3) His
unwillingness to be barred from communing with other
orthodox Christians. And intending to become connected
with some other Christian denomination, he delivered his
parchments and was dismissed by the Bishop of the Prot-
estant Episcopal Church for the Diocese of Kentucky.
Can he be received by us in orders?” Some of the preach-
ers doubted. The Bishop decided that he could, and after
BISHOP OF THE M. E, CHURCH, SOUTH. 99

 

administering the vows of ordination gave him a certificate
of elder’s orders as a local preacher in the Methodist Epis-
copal Church, South.

From Glasgow, Ky., he passed on by Nashvile, Tenn.,
to Murfreesboro, the seat of the Tennessee Conference.
This was his old Conference. He was met by members
of his Ch_rch with whom he had lived and labored in
his early ministry. At the opening of the Conference
he said: “I shall feel free to hold a steady rein presid-
ing over this my old Conference. The business of the
Church requires method, order, harmony. To accomplish
this work will be my entire aim. Firmly, and in the fear
of God, I will do my whole duty. Help me.” During
this Conference a local preacher came up for readmission.
Brother K. was a man of talents. He was a politician, and
was a powerful man before the people. He had a very
wide reputation, and he was recognized as one of the most
formidable of all the Whig orators. Dr. J. B. McFerrin
spoke in behalf of hisadmission. Hesaid: “Mr. President,
Brother K. and myself are the poles apart in politics.”
The Bishop interrupted him with these sharp and rather
cutting words: “I am very sorry to hear you allude to your
politics on thig floor and in this presence. We do not bring
politics into a Southern Methodist Conference.” “Well,
sir,” replied Dr. McFerrin, “it is my right and privilege to
refer to my politics anywhere when I can do so, as I do now,
in the fear of God and for his glory. AsIwassaying, Broth-
er K. and myself do not belong to the same political party.
He isa zealous Whig; Iam a Democrat. In spite of all this, I
am for him—separated in politics, we are one in Christ. In
spite of violence of party spirit, we are one; and I shall vote
for him with both hands raised. Religion, thank God, is
above all political combinations, and this day shows itself
the very essence of love. Still you must know that Brother
100 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

K. must be worthy, or I would not have made this speech.
Let us all vote for him.” So we did, and Brother K. was
admitted with but little opposition. The Bishop’s sharp
rebuke was not only parried, but was made to subserve the
best interests of the political preacher, and to bring him into
the Conference.

The Conference passed pleasantly. The Bishop presided
with dignity, and to the satisfaction of all. To this Confer-
ence he had the pleasure of introducing Dr. Wadsworth, as
his successor in the presidency of La Grange College, and
commending him to his brethren as worthy of their confi-
dence and support.

His speech on reading out the appoinments was just
the kind we all expected. It was tender. It was manly.
It was episcopal. It blended mildness and firmness, love
for the preachers and devotion to the Church. It showed
the full character of our shepherd as willing to lead in all
the work of Christ. From Murfreesboro he went by stage
to Tuscumbia, and thence on to his home. He found all
well, and on November 12 the flowers were still blooming.
There had been no frost. Health and happiness, beauty
and innocence, nature and art, neatness and industry and
piety, all combined to make that home most delightful to
the good Bishop, whose labors had been so great and whose
valuable life seemed at one time to have come to a sudden
and violent end. But God had more use for him in his
vineyard, and had brought him again to his own loved
ones at his own dear “sweet home.” For all this he was
so thankful that he not only acknowledged his gratitude
around the family altar, but almost tearfully in his journal.
When he thought of the exceedingly narrow escape that he
had made from a sudden and violent death, and found him-
self again at his own dear home with all the blessings of life
around him, his gratitude was unbounded. That home, al-
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 101

 

ways so dear to him, never seemed so lovely as now. The
flowers blooming so late in the autumn seemed an omen for
good. He always loved flowers, and now they seemed more
attractive than ever. Their beauty and sweetness added to
the delights of his home, and especially so as they had been
planted and cultivated by the hand of his wife, who could
say in the language of the wife of another Bishop: “1 am
happy in my husband, whether absent or present; but al-
ways happy in my God, ever present and always kind to us
both.”

After spending a few weeks with his family, he left home
in December for the remaining Conferences. He held the
Mississippi at Canton, the Louisiana at Minden, the Ala-
bama at Montgomery. He did not finish this short round
of Conferences until February, 1848. His chief labor was
performed in getting from one Conference to another. Dur-
ing these long trips overland, and in all sorts of convey-
ances—from a stage-coach to a common road-wagon—he suf-
fered much; but uncomplainingly and with determination
to do his whole duty, he brooked all the difficulties, and was
ever at his post. He did not get back to his home until
late in February. Here we shall leave him to enjoy all
the happiness of that domestic circle until he starts on his
round of duties in the fall of 1848.
102 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

CHAPTER XIX.

Dury in THE Mipst or DANGER.

FTER holding the Holston Conference at Knoxville.
the Tennessee at Clarksville, and the Memphis at Ab-
erdeen, on the 4th of December, 1848, he left home at night,
and in a stage-coach, for the Mississippi Conference. It was
held at Jackson. The men of this Conference were under
the leadership of one of the greatest minds on this conti-
nent. Dr. William Winans, for native strength of intellect,
for power to grasp any subject presented to him, for vigor
of logic, and for command of pure Anglo-Saxon English,
has not been surpassed in the history of Methodism. He
was an intellectual giant. Then there was the godly and
elegant Drake; the fervid Campbell—the son-in-law of Mar-
tin Ruter; the apostolic Jones; the eloquent Charles K.
Marshall; the venerable and sweet-spirited Lane, who always
reminded me of Bishop Andrew, and had often been taken
for him; all of whom met him with cordiality, and gave him
generous support. He met there his old friends and com-
panions-in-arms, Dr. J. B. McFerrin and Dr. Stevenson, from
Nashville. Dr. Charles B. Parsons was there, and preached
his famous sermon in which he compared the different de-
nominations to the different cars on a railroad drawn by
the same engine and bound for thesame port. Dr. Levings,
the great Bible Agent, was also at this Conference, advo-
cating the claims of the Holy Book. During the Confer-
ence alarming reports were heard of cholera in New Or-
leans and all along the Mississippi River. His next Con-
ference was the Louisiana, and was to be held at Baton
Rouge, right in the cholera region. The visitors from Ken-
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 103

 

tucky and Tennessee determined to return to their homes.
A fearful panic prevailed. I happened just as this time to
be passing down the Mississippi River with my family,
bound for Centenary College. Even the captain of the
boat on which we were traveling left us at Natchez and
went back to his home and family in Paducah, Ky. We
left Paducah with a large number of passengers, but nearly
all quit the boat before we reached Baton Rouge. Some
of the passengers bought horses and returned through the
interior to their homes in Reynoldsburg, Tenn. I have
seldom, either before or since that time, seen a greater panic
than existed all along the Mississippi River. That there
were grounds for it, there could be no doubt. People were
leaving New Orleans by the thousands. The disease was
very fatal. On the night of our arrival at Jackson, La.,
our second daughter, a sweet and beautiful little girl of near
eight years, was attacked with the disease, and after a few
short days we laid her away among strangers in the little
village cemetery beneath the shade of the magnolia. The
Bishop heard of our great sorrow, and as he had baptized
her and always loved her, he expressed in few but tender
words our sad,sad loss. In the midst of this panic, which
seized all classes, he writes: “Excitement about cholera.
McFerrin, Starks, Levings, and Stevenson hesitating about
going to the Louisiana Conference. I go, of course. ‘Trust
God in duty,’ my motto.” He went. A perplexing case
came up at this Conference. It was: “What is the status
of a local elder whose character the quarterly-meeting
Conference refused to pass?” The presiding elder had de-
cided that the ministerial character was gone, and that the
elder must surrender his parchment. He was sustained
by some of the most talented members of the Conference.
One said: “ By the refusal of the quarterly-meeting Confer-
ence to pass his character, his vitality as a minister is gone.”
104 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

Another urged: “The quarterly-meeting Conference hae
exclusive jurisdiction, and of course a refusal to pass the
character of a local elder virtually deprives him of all his
official functions.” Just at this juncture the Bishop arose
and said: “Brethren, I will not put the vote. It did not
follow from a refusal to pass the character of this local
elder that his credentials were to be given up, or that he
was indefinitely suspended. The presiding elder did right
to examine his character, moral and official, but improperly
jumped to his conclusion in demanding his credentials. He
should have called on the Quarterly Conference to specify
facts; to do it in his presence, to admonish, reprove, or sus-
pend him, according to Jaw. If he had shown improper
temper or performed actions improper, the Discipline points
out the course and the law. But without charge, trial, or
conviction, they refused to accredit him. The proceedings
stopped too soon. All that the Quarterly Conference did
was an implied censure, or censure direct, and does not nec-
essarily work a forfeiture of his credentials. A local elder
cannot be deprived of his credentials without a trial. This
brother has had no such trial. There is no law for this
course. He is still a local elder.” To this decision he held
the Conference, and would not allow a brother, without a
trial, to be deprived of his ministerial character.

Before the Conference closed, he was attacked with strong
symptoms of cholera. He was unable to read out the ap-
pointments. He had spasms, and suffered so as to produce
cold, clammy sweats. Many were dying of cholera. Col.
Croghan, of the United States Army, died; and others
were reported very ill. He got better, and although very
feeble, went on board a boat bound for New Orleans. At
the home of his old friend H. R. W. Hill he became worse.
Though weak and suffering, he writes: “This is indeed a
strange providence, to stop me here in the midst ~f danger.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 105

 

I do trust all without fear to Godabove. His will be done.
Glory be to God, I can work or die as he wills. But O
my wife, little ones, and servants! Must trust all. I do.”
But God had other work for him to do. After days of suf-
fering and great feebleness, he was allowed by his excellent
physician, Dr. Moss, to leave for the Alabama Conference,
which was held at Greensboro, Ala., Jan. 21st, 1849. Here
he heard of the death of Dr. Levings from cholera. He was
a great and good man, and was in fine health when he parted
from the Bishop after the adjournment of the Mississippi
Conference. Immediately upon the adjournment of the
Alabama Conference, the Bishop left for home by stage.
He found all well. Here again he enjoyed in the bosom of
his family that rest which he so greatly needed. He had
traveled and held Conferences, and been attacked with chol-
era, and suffered so much as to make him feel that death
was not remote. Henevér faltered. Do duty, even if duty
led to the grave, was his great ruling principle. In accept-
ing the episcopal office, he anticipated labor, self-denial, sep-
aration from family and home; but thus far his sufferings
had far exceeded his anticipations. Duty alone prevented
him from laying aside his robes of office and seeking privacy,
quiet, and repose. But ever faithful to the calls of duty, to
the dictates of an enlightened conscience, and to the require-
ments of the Church which he loved better than life, he
said to the tempter, “Get thee behind me, Satan,” and cried
out with David, “My heart is fixed, O Lord, my heart is
fixed!” Again he was happy in the bosoin of his family;
again he blessed the Providence that had given to him a
wife who combined just the qualities which the wife of a
traveling Bishop should have. She was strong, self-reliant,
firm, and yet gentle, timid, refined, and modest almost to a
fault. In his absence she ruled the family. At home, all
yielded to her wishes. A model housekeeper must have
106 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

order, neatness, and industry in her home. Mrs. Paine had
all this. The Bishop’s home was a model of elegance and
refinement. It was surrounded by the most beautiful flowers
and shrubbery, tastefully selected and elegantly cultivated.
Within, all was order and harmony. She had inherited
her mother’s capacity for governing. She was like her
mother in both strength and gentleness of character, and
soon made her husband feel that in his absence all would
go well. So while he left his home always with regret, and
returned to it with joy, he suffered no needless anxiety about
its proper government while he was absent.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 107

 

CHAPTER XxX.

In THE GREAT West—ReEtuRNs Home.

HE different rounds of Conferences were far from being
monotonous. If “variety is the spice of life,” our Bishop
certainly did not lack that element. He had spice enough
and to spare. On the 19th of September, 1849, he left his
home for the Missouri Conference. He went to Memphis,
Tenn., by stage, and was soon on board a steamer for St.
Louis. As usual on a Mississippi River steam-boat, there
were many different characters among the passengers.
Gamblers, desperate and vile, greatly annoyed the pious
Bishop by their impudent blasphemy and insulting speech.
In the darkness of the night, not far from Cairo, the boat
struck a snag. It tore through the state-rooms. Some were
scalded, and many narrowly escaped. The gamblers were
much alarmed, and broke down the door of their state-room.
Another attempted to jump into the river, and was caught
by the Bishop and his life saved. The alarm and disorder
were great. The boat was landed on asand-bar, where they
passed a horrid night. In all the excitement, the Bishop
remained calm and undismayed. He encouraged and com-
forted the terrified passengers, and was ready, as upon a for-
mer occasion, to take command of the shattered vessel, and
save, if possible, both passengers and crew. This proved
not to be necessary, as they had a captain equal to the oc-
casion. Without further accident, he arrived safe at St.
Louis on the 23d of September. He preached in Centenary
Church on the Sabbath to a large congregation. His text
"was the apostle’s prayer, found in Ephesians, third chapter.
He had liberty. He entered into the spirit of this wonder-
108 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

ful prayer. The people were stirred. A deep feeling pre-
vailed throughout the large assembly. God was present.
Good wasdone, At St. Louis was Thomas Capers, brilliant,
pious, evangelical; and also Dr. J. H. Linn, then in the
vigor of his young manhood, solid, strong, earnest. He waa
doing a great work then, and continued in energy, fidelity,
and zeal for more than twenty-five years to preach the gos-
pel and advance the Master’s cause until 1877, when he
passed to his reward. While holding the Missouri Confer-
ence at Fulton, he was attacked with a sudden and severe
sickness. The attack came upon him while he was preach-
ing, and he was compelled to stop. He was scarcely able
to ordain the deacons, and broke down completely while at-
tempting to ordain the elders. Two physicians were called
in and found his symptoms alarming. His mind wandered.
Fearful dreams. and visions added to the alarm of his
friends. He preached and prayed in the most frantic man-
ner, and in the wildest delirium. He saw his wife die, his
house on fire, and two of his children consumed in the
flames. The disease was difficult to subdue, but after six or
eight days yielded to the skill of his physicians and a kind
Providence, and he went on as soon as he was able to attend
the St. Louis Conference at Jefferson City. The Conference
had been in session for several days. He presided during
the remainder of the session, but was unable to preach.
After Conference, he sent back his trunk and procured a
horse and a real Methodist itinerant preacher’s outfit, sad-
dle-bags and all, and set out for the Indian Mission Confer-
ence on a horse which he called““Gunpowder.” Feeble as he
was, he traveled from twenty to thirty-five milesa day. At
one time, weary and worn, he laid down on the grass to rest.
He writes as he lay upon his back: “O how tired! Lord,
help me to do and suffer thy will.” There were no roads.
He had to travel along narrow paths, and got lost more than
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 109

 

once. At last, after a long route of more than three hun-
dred and fifty miles, he arrived at a mansion near Tahle-
quah, the seat of the Conference. He had been lodging in
cabins and hovels, but now he was in a palace. He slept
on a bedstead which cost one hundred and fifty dollars.
Every thing was splendid, and the more so because of the
contrast with the humble fare which he had enjoyed during
his long horseback ride. The family was kind; the enter-
tainment princely. The rest, so long needed, was most grate-
fully enjoyed. He expresses it all in one word: “ Resting.”
There is a whole volume in that word. Then follow two
other words with which the reader is familiar: “Thank
God!” It is with these two emphatic words that he always
expresses his gratitude to his Heavenly Father. He held
the Conference, preached to the Indians, visited the mission-
schools, and after doing all the work of an evangelist and
of a Methodist Bishop, he left on “Gunpowder” for the
East Texas Conference, to be held at Paris, Tex. Arriving
at Paris in time, he held the Conference, made the mission-
ary speech, preached and ordained deacons and elders. He
then had more than three hundred and fifty miles to travel
on horseback to Austin, the seat of the West Texas Confer-
ence. On the way, he was taken violently ill with a con
gestive chill. He called in a physician, who prescribed
“heroic” doses of calomel, blue-mass, and quinine. He
would take at night twenty grains of calomel, and then ten
grains of quinine every few hours during the day. Through
bogs and swamps on he traveled—so sick that he thought
again and again death would be the result. He would have
stopped, but he had no place at which he could stay. In
the saddle, tired, sick, wasted, he traveled on through the
prairies, over the hills, across the streams, until he arrived
at Austin. Here he met his old Alabama friend Rev.
Chauncy Richardson, one of the pioneer educators in the
110 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

Republic of Texas. Here also he found his old Tennessee
friend Dr. Alexander, whose name is so sacred to the Meth-
odists of Texas. There were others there, brave and true,
who gave to the sick Bishop all the support that warm-
hearted, zealous Methodist preachers could give. Still sick,
he left Austin for Houston, where he expected to take a boat
for Galveston. In spite of the big doses of calomel and
quinine, and in spite of the wear and tear of horseback
travel, and a severe attack from one or two “ Northers,” he
arrived at Houston in December. Here he took a boat for
Galveston, and was soon on the Gulf for New Orleans.
Arriving at Mobile on January 1, 1850, he heard from his
wife for the first time since leaving home in September.
Amid all his labors, dangers, sufferings, his heart had not
been gladdened by one line from the loved ones at home—
so uncertain were the mails in what we then called the Far
West. At Mobile he learned that all were well at home,
and went to hold the Alabama Conference in Columbus,
Mississippi.

On the 2d of February, 1850, Bishop Paine arrived at
home after an absence of more than four months. They
had been four of the hardest months of his toilsome life.
He had been in the saddle quite an entire month—much of
the time really too sick to be out of his house. He had
traveled on horseback nearly a thousand miles, and he
passed through all without one rebellious feeling, but with
“Thy will be done” as the abiding sentiment of his apos-
tolic heart.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 111

 

CHAPTER XXlI.

GENERAL CONFERENCE—CHOLERA— BASCOM—EXCITEMENT IN
THE East—WoRK—BEREAVEMENT.

HE Second General Conference of the Methodist Episco-
pal Church, South, was held at St. Louis, beginning on
May 1, 1850. Bishops Soule, Capers, Andrew, and Paine
were all present. The Bishops’ Address was prepared by
Bishop Andrew, and was read at the opening of the Con-
ference. Bishop Paine proposed the subject of organizing
a system to bring local preachers more into the work. He
also urged that a course of study be prescribed, and that
the “standard for licensing and ordaining them be higher.”
The Conference was a brief one. At an early period of
the session the cholera became epidemic in St. Louis, and
many members of the Conference were attacked by it.
Bishop Soule was taken very ill, and Rev. Isaac Boring
died. The Conference elected Henry B. Bascom Bishop,
and, after attending to such other business as could not be
postponed, adjourned on May 14.

The Bishop left home for the Eastern Conferences on Oc-
tober 31. As he passed through the Carolinas on his way
to Virginia, he found great excitement prevailing in regard
to the boundary between the North and South Carolina
Conferences. The feeling was so deep that it gave the Bish-
op the greatest anxiety. He had free and full conversa-
tions with Dr. Summers, who, from his residence in Charles-
ton, knew all the points involved. He was a disinterested
and wise counselor. At the North Carolina Conference
Dr. Deems made a fiery speech, and Dr. Closs said he
would fight it out on his side to the bitter end. He had
112 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

learned largely of the merits of the case from passing
through South Carolina and hearing all that the preachers
of that Conference had to say on the subject. He decided
on his course. It did not meet with the approbation of the
North Carolina presiding elders. He referred it to the
Conference. Supported by such men as Doub, Burton, H.
G. Leigh, Bryant, and Carter, his plan was carried through,
and peace was restored. At the South Carolina Conference
he found the brethren a “little shy,” but soon they went
with him, and the border difficulty ended in fraternal greet-
ings and universal peace. Such and so great is the power
of a man in authority to control the bitterness of strife and
to enjoy the benediction of all good people, and of Him who
said, “Blessed are the peace-makers.”

The Virginia Conference was held in Richmond. On his
way, he preached in the Washington Street Church, Peters-
burg, to an immense crowd on “ Walking with God.” In
this church he was ordained Bishop in May, 1846. He
writes: “Thank God, I hope I have done nothing to dis-
grace my office; but alas! how imperfectly have I filled
it! It almost killed me to be ordained, and I have found
the office even more laborious and difficult than I expected;
but He knows I neither sought nor wanted it, and I look to
him for help in every emergency. And blessed be His holy
name, hitherto He has helped me.” During this Confer-
ence he enjoyed sweet communion with that noble layman
D’Arcy Paul, of whom he says: “This is one of the best,
wealthiest, and most liberal men in the Church. He makes
it his business to get money to give away, and he does give
it liberally.” After the Virginia Conference, he returned
through the Carolinas, and held the Georgia Conference at
Savannah. It was the middle of January, 1851. He was
extremely anxious to return home. The condition of his
family seemed to demand it. His wife was sick, and he

é
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 113

 

felt that he ought to be with her. Besides, he himself was
not well. He had several chills, and was suffering greatly
with his head. At one time it seemed that he was border-
ing on apoplexy. He was perfectly conscious of his condi-
tion, and felt that he needed rest. The Florida Conference
was still to be held. He sought, through Dr. William H.
Ellison, son-in-law of Bishop Capers, and Dr. George F.
Pierce, to secure the services of Bishop Andrew. But .
Bishop Andrew could not go. He enters in his journal:
“Never hated to go worse; but ’tis duty, andI go.” A
son had been born on January 1, and it was now the 20th;
and he would have been less or more than human not to
have desired greatly to see both mother and son. But “’t is
duty, and Ige“ He went, held the Conference, met Bish-
ops Capers and Andrew at Macon, Ga., on his return, and
arranged with them the plan of Conferences and appropria-
tions. He did not get back to his home until February 6.
In a short time that home was saddened by the death of
his eldest son, John E. Beck. John was a promising young
physician. He was converted while a student at Emory
College, Georgia. He was a consistent Christian, and he
talked most beautifully on his death-bed. He had a vision
of his mother. She came to him in “radiant glory,” and
said to him: “My son, prepare to meet the ‘judgment.
Meet me in heaven.” Then, turning to his step-mother, he
aid: “O ma, you have been a dear, good mother tome. I
would like to live, but I am not afraid to die.” The Bishoy
had dedicated him to God from his infancy, and was ever
so hopeful of his future. He was a gentleman and a Chris-
tian, and his death was most beautiful. His father was with
him, and witnessed the triumphs of that faith which he
had been preaching for more than the third of a century.
After recounting the circumstances of his death, he utters
these expressive words: “O that I may meet him in heaven!
&
114 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

I shall.” He uttered no rebellious word. He indulged no
murmuring spirit. He bowed to Him who doeth all things
well, meekly praying, “Thy will be done.” His tour of
Conferences, as he strongly designates them, began with the
Western Virginia in September, 1851. He presided then
at the Kentucky, Louisville, Tennessee, Mississippi, and
Louisiana. These were all pleasant sessions, and his health
was better than usual. At the Mississippi Conference, Dr.
William Winans was compelled by the state of his health to
ask a supernumerary relation. He was not more than sixty
years of age. It was not, then, the infirmities of old age
but asevere bronchial affection which made the request
necessary. He stated the case himself to the Conference
in a modest, manly way. He stated his belief that the
days or his efficiency were passed. He feared that he
would never be able to take regular work again. He
bowed cheerfully to the will of God. In the Mississippi
Conference he had spent the vigor of his youth and the
prime of his manhood. He had enjoyed the largest confi-
dence of his brethren, for which he was deeply grateful,
He hoped the Conference could readily grant a request
which nothing but inability to do full work could have
forced him to make. Saying this, he left the Conference-
room. Before putting the vote as to granting his request,
the Bishop said: “ Brethren, this request affects me greatly.
It pains me beyond measure to hear my old friend declare
his inability longer to do effective service. Time has been
when William Winans would have been gladly welcomed
to any station in the Church. He was capable of filling
any place. In intellectual power he has no superior in the
Church, North or South. He indulges now in no murmur.
He is satisfied. He retiresso gracefully, so uncomplaining-
ly as to excite my highest admiration. I have seen old men
retire most ungraciously, uttering their complaints as to
BISHOP OF THE M. E, CHURCH, SOUTH. 115

 

want of appreciation by the Church and their hard lot in
being cast off in oldage. Dr. Winans never appeared
grander than he does to-day. I have been with him in
General Conference when he shone like the sun at midday
in cloudless splendor. He was then the peer of any man on
this continent. To-day he reminds me of the setting sun.
He still shines in full-orbed splendor, his round of rays
complete. The light may not be so dazzling, but its mellow
radiance touches the tenderest sensibilities, and assures us
that when the clouds of death shall gather they will be
gilded with holy light, filling us with the assurance that
death itself cannot quench the brightness of a luminary
which shall shine forever, undimmed by the clouds of
death. Of course you will grant the request of Dr. Wi-
nans.” The request was granted amid as deep feeling as
was ever witnessed probably on any similar occasion.

From the Mississippi Conference he passed by Centenary
College, and remained a few days, blessing the family of
the writer with his presence, his pious counsels, and his wise,
cheerful Christian conversation. He told us much of the
labors and difficulties of his office. He spoke with intense
admiration of the devoted wife from whom duty compelled
him to be absent so much. Her firmness, her self-denial,
her womanly character so highly developed, and so consci-
entiously meeting the responsibilities of her position as wife
and mother, were spoken of with the highest appreciation.
All this had greatly sustained him during weeks and
months of absence. He could trust all to the prudence,
the constancy, the decision, and the deep piety of a most
devoted and uncomplaining wife.

The Louisiana Conference was held at Thibodeauville.
Without his knowing it, three of the members were to sit
with him on the episcopal bench. Holland N. McTyeire
was at this time stationed at the Felicity Street Church,
116 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

New Orleans, and editor of the New Orleans Christian
Advocate. He was already making a deep impression on
the Conference and the Church. He wielded a powerful
pen. His style, original, terse, strong, and elegant in sim-
plicity, was attracting wide attention and large apprecia-
tion. John ©. Keener was among the most influential
members of the body. Calm, prudent, discriminating, with
a wonderful accuracy in judging character, a successful
pastor, and a capital preacher, he had done as much in ad-
vancing Methodism in the Crescent City as any one who
had ever been sent to that important and yet most difficult
work. Then, he had Linus Parker, quite a young man,
but a rising young man. And I believe that the Bishop
ordained him as deacon at that Conference. It is certain
that he was ordained by Bishop Paine as deacon, elder, and
then Bishop. Thus ordained by the laying on of hands of
the same Bishop, he must have felt a strange reverence for
his venerable colleague. A storm of unusual feeling arose
during the session of the Conference. It originated in a
debate between two of the most prominent members of the
Conference. IJ was alarmed, and to cut off debate moved
the previous question, which Brother Keener seconded.
Dr. Thweatt, a venerable member, arose and complimented
the disputants on the great light thrown upon the subject,
but regretted that the light was attended by so much heat.
The Bishop pronounced my motion out of order. He
‘calmly held the reins, and he alone seemed perfectly self-
possessed. He knew the belligerents, and was assured their
Christian principles would allay the perturbation produced
by the collision in debate. By his prudence, self-control,
and sweet Christian spirit, he soon calmed the storm, and all
was peace again. He showed himself what he was—a Meth-
odist Bishop, clothed with great authority, and exercising it
for the glory of God and the good of the Church.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 117

 

CHAPTER XXII.

Lona ABSENCE—DEATH ABROAD AND AT HomME—PoOWERFUL
PREACHING,

N 1852 he presided over the Conferences in Missouri, In-
dian Territory, Arkansas, and Texas. He left home in
September, and did not get back until February, 1853. He
had the company of Dr. Sehon through a good portion of
this trip. The Doctor was the most courtly of gentlemen,
and an earnest, zealous, and eloquent preacher, but he was
not at all used to the hardships of a pioneer life. The
Bishop enjoyed his company, and did all to encourage him.
Horseback riding was any thing but pleasant to the Doctor,
and he was not prepared for the rough usage to which the
Bishop had become accustomed. After the Indian Mission
Conference they separated, and the Bishop continued on
through Arkansas and Texas. At one of these Conferences
he was again taken very ill, and had to leave the chair with
a severe chill upon him. He arose from a sick-bed on the
Sabbath to ordain deacons and elders. On one of these
trips he was almost sure to be sick. This time he suffered
“with chills, spasms of the intercostal muscles, very sore
chest, ribs drawn up as if corded, slow pulse,” etc. He
would spend a night sleepless and suffering, and travel in
a road-wagon or cariole all the next day. So he did not
miss a Conference. He had time, too, to sympathize with
others. While traveling with Brother Whipple, of the
Texas Conference, a report sadder than any ordinary death-
wail came to the travelers that Brother Whipple’s son had
been drowned, and that his body could not be found. He
gave to his afflicted brother the tenderest sympathies, and
expressed the hope that the report might be false. Upon
118 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

their arrival at Bastrop, the seat of the Conference, they
found the report too true. The father was overwhelmed,
and the distress was increased by the loss of the body. On
the first day of the Conference the body was found, and the
Conference adjourned to attend the funeral of Wilbur Scott
Whipnle. The Bishop officiated, and gave great comfort to
the family by his tender Christian counsel and sweet words
of consolation, so radiant in our holy religion. As he re-
turned to the laborious duties of the Conference at two
o'clock p.m., he simply wrote in his diary: “Sleep on,
sweet one.” Soon after his arrival at home, he was called
to suffer another great bereavement in the death of his
brother-in-law, Dr. Felix Manning. He died, saying:
“Bless the Lord, O my soul! Glory to God!” Of this
excellent man he says: “Dr. George Felix Manning was
among my dearest and most loved friends. A noble-hearted,
intelligent Christian gentleman, with as much purity, con-
sistency, and magnanimity as any one I have ever known.
His closing scene tender beyond description; committed his
family to me. Glory to God! he is safe. I will join him.
May God bring us and all our families to unite in heaven
together forever! He will.” A deeper Christian experi-
ence, a more thorough resignation to the Divine will, and a
holier trust in Him to whom he had committed all things,
mark the Christian character of Bishop Paine from year to
year. He seldom passed the anniversary of his birth with-
out a most devout recognition of the Divine power and a
reconsecrating of himself to God. Gratitude fills his heart
all the time. Love for the Church and the Master’s cause
constantly inspires him. He continually prays for more
purity and fervor. He says: “Methodism is right. All we
need is to stick closer to it in doctrine and discipline. I
want no change. The neglect of the General Rules and
class-meetings, family and private religion, is cause of great.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 119

 

fear, and constitutes our greatest fault.” His love for the
Church continued to grow upon him. He forgot nothing
that concerned its highest interests. Among his regrets at
leaving home was that of losing, as he feared, some of that
influence which he wished to exert upon the family circle.
eligion in the family was the only hope for the Church
and the world. It was the salt which must never lose its
savor. It was the light which must shine out constantly
and brightly from Christian homes. Neglect of family re-
ligion he deprecated as one of the greatest evils that could
befall the Church. In September, 1853, he again leaves
his family and home for the Eastern division of Conferences.
He resigns home, wife and children, and all earthly inter-
ests, for Christ’s sake and for souls. He presided at the Hol-
ston, Virginia, North, and South Carolina, Georgia, Ala-
bama, and Florida Conferences. His health was better than
usual. He preached at every Conference, and often in the
intervals. During this trip he preached again in Washing-
ton Street Church, Petersburg, Va., in which he was or-
dained Bishop. His text was: “If any man love not the
Lord Jesus Christ, let him be anathema maranatha.”
This was a favorite text with him. In discussing it he was
often sublimely eloquent. He delighted to show the loveli-
ness of the character of the Lord Jesus. Character-paint-
ing was often a strong and striking feature of his best ser-
mons. To paint the character of the blessed Master was a
part of his divine mission. Jesus was lovely in his inno-
cence, in his benevolence, in his activity, in his entire un-
selfishness. He illustrated the condition of the world by a
city whose water supply was cut off. The inhabitants were
dying of thirst. Not a drop of water in all the city. Al
alike in the palace and in hovels; the rich and the poor
were suffering untold agonies. Lips were parched and
tongues without moisture. The skin was shriveling and the
120 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

blood itself drying up for want of water. Then he had a
benevolent engineer, coming as by magic, opening the pipes
and sending supplies of cool, limpid water to every home,
along every street, and restoring life to thousands of fam-
ishing people. The praise of such a man would be upon
every tongue and in every heart. It would not be hard to
love one possessed of such benevolence and bestowing such
blessings upon a dying people. Such was the character of
Christ. He found the world dying for the water of life—
all supplies had been cut off. He opened a fountain pure,
fresh, and inexhaustible. He said, ‘Ho every one that
thirsteth, come ye to the waters.’ Will ye not love him?
Ought he not to beloved? Love—deep, constant, and pure
—is all he asks in return. Sooner let my tongue cleave to
the roof of my mouth than it should cease to speak his
praise. Love him? Yes, brethren, I will love him with
all my heart. Join me in this love to the best, truest,
and most unselfish Friend that man ever had.” Then.
he closed that sermon with an appeal such as I cannot
even try to reproduce. He seemed to stand upon Sinai.
His countenance shone like that of Moses. His words
burned. The curse from God was portrayed with all the
power of sacred oratory. He seemed inspired. Munsey,
in his description of the lost soul, did not surpass his fiery
eloquence. God’s fearful and deserved curse—blighting all
happiness, destroying all hope, and pouring upon the ac-
cursed ingrate all the anathemas of a violated law—was de-
scribed in thoughts that breathed and words that burned.
When thus preaching, he seemed a very apostle of God, as
he was. The usual routine of work of the Conferences was
performed, with nothing which he regarded as worthy of
special notice in his diary. He got back to his home at an
earlier period than usual, and was rejoiced to find all in
good health and happy to welcome him.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 121

 

CHAPTER XXIII.

THIRD GENERAL CoNFERENCE—NEW BisHoPsS—REMOVAL OF
La GRANGE COLLEGE.

N May 1854, the third General Conference of the Meth-

odist Episcopal Church, South, was held at Columbus, Ga.
It was found necessary to increase the number of Bishops
by the addition of three members. George F. Pierce, of
Georgia; Hubbard H. Kavanaugh, of Kentucky; and John
Early, of Virginia, were added to the Episcopal Board. Of
these the youngest was George F. Pierce. He was the son
of Dr. Lovick Pierce, and a favorite son of Georgia. He
was possessed of wonderful magnetism. His eloquence at-
tracted large crowds wherever he went. Of handsome
person, radiant countenance, commanding talents, he was
doubtless the most popular man of his age in the Connec-
tion. His election gave universal satisfaction. H. H.
Kavanaugh had long been a favorite in Kentucky. On
some occasions he astounded the people by his wonderful
pulpit eloquence. He had a fine voice, and when excited
his language seemed to be inspired as it conveyed to en-
tranced hearers thoughts at once original, striking, and
brilliant. His piety was of a high order, and his fitness for
the office of a Bishop lacked but one element, which he
never professed to have. He had no special talent for pre-
siding or conducting the business of a Conference. But his
power in a pulpit and his pure Christian life always made
him acceptable and popular. John Early was known to
possess one of the finest business minds in the Church. He
had been one of the best presiding elders in the Old Domin
122 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

ion. He could conduct financial matters well, and had been
a successful Book Agent. He was growing old, and was the
choice of Virginia, whose people he had served half a century.

In the fall of 1854 Bishop Paine held the Louisville, Ten-
nessee, Memphis, and Arkansas Conferences. He records
nothing of special moment as occuring at these Conferences
except the step taken at the Tennessee Conference to re-
move La Grange College to Florence, Ala. “The propo-
sition was to pay all the debts, erect superior buildings, and
assure both local patronage anda paying endowment of ten
thousand dollars.”* Bishop Paine had spent some of the
best days of his manhood in connection with this college.
He had groaned over it and labored for it. He loved the
mountain, and never tired of the beautiful scenery to be en-
joyed from its summit. The proposition was so liberal that
he could not oppose it. Dr. A. L. P. Green saw at once
the propriety of accepting the proposition, and offered a
resolution instructing the Board to remove. The offer was
to give better buildings, pay all the debts, and give an en-
dowment of about forty thousand dollars, and to assure a
local patronage larger than was then enjoyed from both
home and foreign patronage. The removal, I have reason
to know, met with the cordial approbation of Bishop Paine,
-and was indeed the very best thing that could have been
done. The college more than doubled its patronage in less
than one year. It continued to flourish until the interne-
cine war broke it down. It is now, as elsewhere stated
in this biography, the State Normal College of Alabama,
and is still doing a great and good work in the cause of ed-
ucation.

On this round of Conferences he passed near the old
homestead in Giles county, Tennessee. He visited the

 

*This was the note in his diary. The offer was forty thousand
dollars.
BISHOP OF THE M. E, CHURCH, SOUTH, 123

 

graves of his father and mother. Alone, with a train of
feelings so mingled as not to be described, he knelt and
prayed by the graves of those dear loved ones: “O that I
may meet these dear, precious parents in heaven!” Before
he had fairly finished his entire round of Conferences, he
was shocked by the sudden death of his colleague, Bishop
Capers. They had been life-long friends. Together they
had worked for the cause of the Master for many years;
together they had taken the solemn vows of Methodist
Bishops. He had long honored Bishop Capers as being the
leader in the great effort made by the Southern Methodist
Church to Christianize the negroes. He had always ad-
mired the spotless character of the great South Carolinian,
and he was much grieved by his death. A purer, truer
man than Bishop William Capers never occupied the epis-
copal office. Educated when but few of our ministers were
blessed with a liberal education; a doctor of divinity when
no other Southern Methodist preacher was so honored; a
missionary to the negroes, and giving them sound yet simple
Biblical instruction in Sabbath-schools, when fierce fanatics
were pouring abuse upon him for being connected with
slavery; a preacher of great simplicity and purity of diction
and of much evangelical power; a fervent and faithful mis-
sionary to the Indians before their removal west of the
Mississippi River; and withal a man of deep piety and sweet
spirit—Bishop Capers passed away from us much lamented
by the whole Church, and by no one more than by Bishop
Paine, who had loved and admired him all his life.
Through the influence of Bishop Paine, when presiding over
La Grange College, the presidency of that institution was
offered to Dr. Capers. He did not accept the office, much
to the regret of President Paine, who thought him better
fitted for the office than himself. I mention this fact to
show the life-long appreciation of his colleague by Bishop
124 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

Paine. Then, they were consecrated together to their sacred
office; and this of course produced sympathy between them.
He was the second of the Southern Bishops to be called
home. <A good man, “full of the Holy Ghost and full of
faith.” He was ready for the summons. Without one
shrinking feeling, but with holy triumph, this Christian
Bishop met the last enemy, and all through the grace of
the Lord Jesus Christ. In a few brief years Bascom and
Capers had passed away. They were very unlike. Bas-
com was vehement, Capers was gentle. Bascom was terri-
ble as the storm, Capers was mild as the zephyr. Bascom
was a son of thunder, and the lightning played around his
head; Capers was as gentle as a lamb, and always touched
the tenderest sensibilities of human nature. Both were
embassadors of Christ, and had credentials from Heaven;
but Bascom commanded, Capers persuaded. Bascom often
left his congregations dazed and overwhelmed; Capers al-
ways left his tender, subdued, melted. The death of each
was unexpected. They were both life-long friends of
Bishop Paine. He loved them both, and admired and ap-
preciated them, and deeply lamented the death of each as
of a brother beloved. Bascom died in the very beginning
of his work in the episcopal office, and before he had devel-
oped his character either in the chair or in the cabinet.
Bishop Capers had been on his rounds since 1846, and was
universally regarded as a polished shaft in Jehovah’s quiv-
er. He may not have been as able as others in the interpre-
tation of law, or in the power to preserve order, but in all
the elements of pure Christian character—meekness, truth,
justice, and purity—he was equal to the very best.

Bishop Paine’s round of Conferences for 1855 embraced
Kentucky, Western Virginia, Louisville, Tennessee, Mem-
phis, and Holston. He gives no account of what occurred
at any of these Conferences. He simply records the fact
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 125

 

above stated. I suppose he attended all these Conferences
and presided over them. It is certain he did so unless pre-
vented by sickness. We have seen that when sick and
worn with labor and travel he would persist in doing the
work assigned him. The work in the East was becoming
less laborious, owing to the increased facilities for travel.
This was grateful to the feelings and added greatly to the
comfort of the Bishop, now nearly sixty years of age.
126 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

CHAPTER XXIV.

Eptcation ry ALABAMA—THE SouTHERN UNIVERSITY-—PRov-
IDENCE—PERILS—LAW.

ARLY in the year 1855, Alabama Methodism became
intensely excited on the subject of education. The
question was, Two colleges, or one? The contest ended in
the establishment of two—one located at Auburn, in East
Alabama, and the other at Greensboro, in the western por-
tion of the State. Bishop Paine was called to preside over
the Board of Trustees of the Southern University to be es-
tablished at Greensboro. His love for the Church, his
large experience in the work of education, his extensive ac-
quaintance with the educators of the South, his great cau-
tion and prudence, admirably fitted him to preside over the
deliberations of a body then undertaking the grandest
Church enterprise in connection with education ever at
that time begun in the South. After the erection of suit-
able buildings, and the purchase of libraries, fixtures, etc.,
needed for a university of high order, it was found that
they would have an endowment of more than two hundred
thousand dollars. This was the best showing that had ever
been made by Methodism in connection with her education-
al enterprises. The Board met for the first time on March
17, 1856. It was composed of men able, liberal, and true.
Bishop Andrew, far-seeing and trustworthy; Dr. Summers,
learned and cautious; Dr. Hamilton, then the Nestor of Ala-
bama Methodism; Dr. Wadsworth, pure, gentle, yet firm and
experienced; Dr. Mitchell, with a character stately and ma-
jestic; and Dr. Neely, eloquent and enthusiastic, were among
BISHOP OF THE M. E, CHURCH, SOUTH. 127

 

the ministers in that body. Then the enterprising and lib-
eral De Yampert, the noble and statesmanlike Baker, the
gifted Erwin, were among the laymen in that Board, to
which was committed this great educational interest. To
use a favorite expression of Dr. Summers’s, they deter-
mined to make haste slowly. It was thought best not to
open the doors of the university until they were ready.
Bishop Paine’s greatest fear was that dormitories might be-
come necessary. To them he was conscientiously opposed.
He had seen the evils resulting from placing boys in bar-
racks, or dormitories, away from family influence. God had
organized the family. Its influence was needed to restrain,
to exalt, to save young men and boys from contracting
low, vicious habits. He believed that boys at school should
become domesticated in refined and well-ordered families.
He was sure that deprived of the influence of mothers and
sisters, and with the hand of no pure, gentle woman to lead
them, they would be in danger of becoming demoralized,
and of going astray. So the dormitory system, as it was
then called, was not adopted.

On his return home he went by Mobile, and taking a
steamer there started up the river. The boat struck a
snag, and sunk in less than twenty miles from the city.
Several persons were drowned. The Bishop says: “Our
escape was marvelous. God preserved us.” He was but
slightly hurt, but lost upward of seven hundred dollars by
the disaster. He was a strong believer in special provi-
dence. In all the disasters, both on land and water, which
seemed to threaten his life, he universally attributed his
preservation to Divine Providence. The sinking of the
boat at night, accompanied by the loss of every thing on
board, and by the drowning of several persons, was certain-
ly an alarming event. It was wonderful that more lives
were not lost. That he was saved with but slight injuries
128 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

caused him to bow in humble gratitude to his Heavenly
Father and reconsecrate himself to his service.

On October 9, 1856, he left home on his fourth tour of
Western Conferences. This was the anniversary of his
conversion. “It was on October 9, 1817, God forgave my
sins. Praise him! It is a great cross to leave home to be
gone so long, and so far away. I never desired the office of
a Bishop, and but for love to Christ would not beone. This
is to be a hard trip—am almost sick on it. Came near dy-
ing twice on this same trip. I will go for Christ’s sake.
Am ready to suffer, or if need be, to die on my work.
Precious ones at home, farewell! So sweet a place I shall
not soon see again. God guard us all.” Such was the
touching entry he made in his diary on his departure for
this most laborious tour. He again passed through the In-
dian Territory, in company with his old friend Dr. E. W.
Sehon. They underwent the usual hardships and trials.
At a very indifferent Indian tavern, at which they were
compelled to pass the night, Dr. Sehon became very anx-
ious and suspicious. It seemed to him that some of the
guests were prowling around with no good intentions. He
suggested to the Bishop that their lives were in danger.
The countenances, whisperings, and general deportment of
these men certainly foreboded no good. They would leave
the house, and after apparent consultation would return as
if bent upon mischief. The Bishop felt that they were
really in the power of ruffians, but he remained perfect-
ly calm, went to bed and slept well. The Doctor kept
watch during the whole night. In the morning they
were both thankful that a merciful Providence had
guarded them from all danger, and that they were safe in
his hands.

From the Indian Mission Conference they went over
rough roads, and by conveyances both public and private,
PISHOP OF THE M. E, CHURCH, SOUTH. 129

 

and of various kinds, to the Texas Conference, held at Wa-
co; thence, in a similar manner, to the West Texas Con-
ference, held at Gonzales. After holding the Western Tex-
as Conference they left in a stage-coach for Richmond, and
thence by railroad to Harrisburg at which place they took
a steam-boat for Galveston. During this round of Confer-
ences he had passed through unusual perils. Just before
starting, the boat upon which he was traveling had sunk,
and he had lost over seven hundred dollars. On the trip
he had been robbed of one hundred and fifty dollars. He
could truthfully apply to himself the words of the great
Apostle to the Gentiles: “In journeyings often, in perils of
waters, in perils of robbers, in perils by the heathen, in per-
ils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in weariness and
painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst. Be
sides those things that are without, that which cometh upon
me daily, the care of all the churches.” I do not desire by
any means to exaggerate his dangers, trials, and sufferings
on this long and exposed route, but according to these
brief entries in his diary, the quotation taken from St.
Paul can be literally and truly applied to Bishop Paine
on this long and dangerous tour. At the Conferences he
was always treated with princely hospitality. The danger
was in passing through a wild country from one Conference
to another. Among his brethren he had every attention,
and wanted for nothing. No man could have been more
thankful than he was for the generous hospitality extended
to him whenever he met either ministers or members of the
Church. He felt, however, that he owed his safety to the
special providence of God. After this long trip, he arrived
safe, happy, and grateful at his own dear home, on January
22, 1857.

In 1857, he held the Memphis Conference at Holly
Springs. Here he was again taken very ill, and was alto-

9
130 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

gether unable to preach, and was scarcely able to perform
the services of ordination. It is always an affliction for the
Bishop to be unable to preach at Conference. The people
expect it, and few of our preachers are willing to stand in
the Bishop’s place just for that one responsible hour. Many,
of course, could fill the office permanently, and would be
willing to do so at the call of the Church. At this Confer-
ence there was at least one man who could have occupied
the episcopal chair and filled the pulpit both with credit
to himself and honor to the Church, and good to the people.
That man was G. W. D. Harris, of precious memory. He
was a man of rare powers. His elocution was well-nigh
perfect. His articulation was distinct, his manner graceful,
his matter deep, sound, and evangelical, and his appearance
dignified and commanding. Back of all this was a char-
acter solid as granite, and as pure as solid. To him was
committed the task of filling the pulpit in place of the
Bishop. Of course he did his work like an apostle, yet it
was a disappointment that the Bishop could not do his own
work. He enters in his journal: “Sorry that I am not able
to do my duty.” At this Conference some legal questions
of importance were decided. Among them, this: “Upon
the reference by the preacher of the trial of a member to
the Quarterly Conference, should the Conference adjudicate
the case, or consider it with regard to the propriety of re-
manding it?” The answer of the Bishop was: “The Con-
stitution of the Church guarantees the right of trial and
appeal. The General Conference cannot take away that
right, directly or indirectly. Therefore, the expulsion by
the Quarterly Conference of a member acquitted by the so-
ciety, as it cuts off appeal, is unconstitutional and void.
‘Lhe Quarterly Conference may advise or order a new trial,
but cannot expel, unless the defendant appeals from the de-
cision of the Jower court. He has no appeal if the Quarter-
NMSIHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 181

 

ly Confcrence try him before he appeals. It is always saf-
est to construe the law so as not to conflict with the consti-
tution.” I have given this decision of the Bishop because
it shows not only a clear knowledge of constitutional law,
but because it shows his sense of justice and regard for char-
acter. His rule was that no man could be expelled from
the Church without a trial by his peers. Whether layman
or minister, he had the inalienable right of trial before ex-
pulsion.

He alsu held the South Carolina Conference, at Char-
lotte, North Carolina. He delivered the missionary ad-
dress at this Conference, and with great success. On such
occasions he was at times surpassingly grand. He was so
at this Conference. As the result, a very large missionary
collection was raised, many giving fifty dollars apiece. His
eloquence warmed the hearts, melted the sympathies, and
caused these deep feelings to manifest themselves in rich
gifts laid upon God’s altar. Thence he passed into Colum-
bia, South Carolina, and was there at the commencement of
the college over which his old friend Dr. A. B. Longstreet
was presiding. The Legislature was also in session, aud he
had a delightful week of rest, and innocent social and intel-
Iectual recreation.

The Georgia Conference, over which he presided, was
held this year, at Washington, Georgia. Here he met
Bishop Pierce, and his father, Dr. Lovick Pierce, with. both
of whom he enjoyed himself greatly. He mentions the
session of the Conference as one of the most pleasant he had
ever attended.

He also visited Macon, Georgia, the seat of the first col-
lege for young ladies that was ever chartered. His oldest
daughter was there, and had recently been happily convert-
ed. The visit was a joyous one to both. He rejoiced in
heart-felt experimental religion. He had experienced it,
132 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

and always recurred with joy and gratitude to his own con-
version. He was a deeply experienced Christian, and grow-
ing more so as the years advanced. The regeneration ot
the heart, by the baptism of the Holy Ghost, was ever with
him a cardinal doctrine. We have seen him in his early
ministry talking to mourners and leading them to Christ.
As he became a presiding elder, and then as president of a
college, and afterward as Bishop of the Church, he con-
tinued to impress this divine truth upon all who heard him.
He never felt that it was beneath any man in any vocation
to seek and find, and enjoy with all the rapture of a con-
verted soul, the witness of the Holy Spirit. He never
doubted his own conversion. He ever rejoiced that he was
a sinner saved by grace. The happy conversion of his
daughter was a benediction to him, and he records it with
gratitude.

Since beginning to write this book, I have received a let-
ter from Brother R. L. Clark, of Verona, Mississippi, who
was led to Christ in 1833, during the first great revival at
La Grange College. He writes: “Bishop Paine was the
instrument in my conversion. He was instructing me
when I embraced Christ as my Saviour. And now for the
space of fifty years he has been my wisest, safest, best of
friends and counselors.” Such is the testimony of many
living witnesses. Whenever the Bishop was able to preach,
he always did so. During this tour of Conferences he
preached on “heart purity as essential to the perfection
of Christian character.” He often chose such subjects as
“Walking with God,” “Filled with the fullness of God,”
“Blessed are the pure in heart.” This, too, was a trying
period of his life. He had a large estate to manage. To
a conscientious man as he was this brought great care, as
well as responsibility. Then, there was the care of all the
churches, the appointments of the preachers to their work,
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 133

 

the education of his children, and added to all these the
proper organization of the Southern University, at Greens-
boro, Alabama. Perplexed, tried, cast down at times, he
never faltered in his consecration, never wavered in his re-
ligious experience, never forgot his first love, but was con-
stantly growing in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord
and Saviour Jesus Christ.
134 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

CHAPTER XXV.

GENERAL CONFERENCE AT NASHVILLE—BiIsHop SouLE—EPIs-
copaL Tour.

N May, 1858, the fourth General Conference of the Meth-
odist Episcopal Church, South, was held in Nashville,
Tenn. Bishop Soule opened and organized the Conference.
He was then far advanced in years. He still maintained
that wonderful dignity of character which had marked his
entire career. He was a great man, and no one could behold
him without feeling that he was in the presence of a great
man. He had grown old gracefully. He had borne with
meekness all the honors heaped upon him by the Church.
He had also borne with uncomplaining patience, and with
the spirit of Christian forgiveness, all the reproaches which
had fallen upon him because of his adherence to the South-
ern Church. He was loved and honored by Southern Meth-
odists with all the intensity of warm Southern hearts. He
gave his ready consent to the removal of the rule from the
Discipline in reference to slavery, holding that the entire
question should be relegated to the State.

In the fall of 1858 Bishop Paine again started on his
episcopal tour. He first held the Memphis Conference at
Trenton, Tenn. On his way he paid a visit to his brother
Constantine. He had much serious religious conversation
with his brother, whom he found in a cold, backslidden con-
dition. This gave him very great concern. He felt during
these repeated conversations that his brother was about to
begin religious life in earnest. A fervent, humble prayer
was offered: “O that he may!”

He left with the assurance that his visit had been of great
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 135

 

spiritual benefit to him. At Trenton, Tenn., he had a de-
lightful time with old friends from Murfreesboro, who had
known him in their childhood, and whose parents had
been members of his Church during his early ministry. It
was always a delight to him to revive these pleasant recollec-
tions and renew the friendships of other years. He preached
several times on his way to Conference, and dedicated one
or two churches. At the Conference he preached on Christ
able to save to the uttermost. This was a favorite theme
with him. The atonement was to him a cardinal doctrine
of the Holy Scriptures. Christ was the Lamb slain. His
sufferings were vicarious. He tasted death for every man.
His sufferings and death were not mere expressions of God’s
love to a world lying in wickedness. They were much more.
They expressed law and justice, and met all the requirements
of the divine government, so that God could be just and
yet justify the ungodly. He never left Wesleyan Method-
ism. His love of originality never caused him to forsake
the old paths. He was neither Calvinist nor Pelagian, but
an Arminian, and held to the doctrine of the atonement as
taught by Richard Watson and other great standards of
Methodist theology.

From Trenton he went to the Alabama Conference, at
which he stationed two hundred preachers. Again he was
suffering with sick headache, and unable to preach. Dr.
Thomas O. Summers filled his place in the pulpit. No
purer man has lived in this century than Thomas O.
Summers. He was learned, earnest, instructive, logical,
and evangelical as a preacher, and fit to fill any pulpit,
and always ready to do the Master’s work. “ Honestly and
patiently” the Bishop made the appointments, and gave
general satisfaction. During this round the organization
of the Southern University was completed. An able Fac-
ulty was elected. Dr. William M. Wightman was made
136 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

Chancellor. A course of study was adopted similar to that
required in the University of Virginia. In all this the
Board of Trust was greatly assisted by the wise counsels
and large experience of Bishop Paine, who presided over
their deliberations. At Woodville, Miss., he held the Mis-
sissippi Conference, and soon after opened the Louisiana
Conference at New Orleans. At this Conference he met
with his old and long-tried friend the Rev. Alexander Sale.
It was a joy to them both. For more than sixteen years
they had worked together for the cause of education at La
Grange College—the Bishop being President and Brother
Sale one of the Board of Trust. :

In Virginia, as circuit preacher and presiding elder, the
Rev. Alexander Sale had served the Church with great
ability. So he had in Tennessee and Alabama. He was
now old and gray-headed, but still erect, stately, and strong.
He had married the Bishop to his last wife, and had been
with him in joy and insorrow. He was the father of Bishop
Linus Parker’s first wife, and was always worthy to be the
companion and counselor of Bishops. They met at that
Conference for the last time on earth. They have met
again amid the assembly of God’s saints in heaven.

Bishop Paine returned home from his round of Confer-
ences in time to enjoy watch-night meeting at the church
in Aberdeen, his own home. After a talk suited to such
an occasion, he, with his brethren, closed the old year 1858
and entered upon the new year on his knees. It had been
forty-one years since his happy conversion and his entrance
upon the ministry. His consecration to God had been re-
newed a thousand times. It was again, most solemnly—in
view of the past and the future, and in union with members
of his own family and his people in Aberdeen—renewed just
as one year passed out and another was ushered in.

Soon after this he stood by the bedside of his old friend
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 137

 

Thomas Brandon as he was dying. He saw him as he gave
the last kiss of affection to his wife and children. Although
he could not articulate distinctly, he gave sufficient testi-
mony that all was well, and that he was trusting Him whom
ne had served so long. The Bishop had known him at
Huntsville, Ala., for many years. He buried him and
preached his funeral-sermon.

In June he attended the commencement exercises of the
Wesleyan College, at Macon, Ga., and had the pleasure of
witnessing the graduation of his oldest daughter, Sarah Fe-
lix. As his children were growing up, he felt more and
more the necessity of religion at home. Religious training
more than ever seemed to take hold of his feelings. Sarah
had been converted while at college. Robert was quite a
youth, and though bright and promising, was not yet a
Christian. The time for his Western tour of Conferences
was approaching. Robert was to go with him. The heart
of the father was made glad by the happy conversion of his
son during that same tour. The son has remained faithful,
and was a lay delegate to our last General Conference in
1882, which was held in Nashville, Tenn.; and there and
then the sad scene was witnessed when the dear old Bishop,
worn down by labors and disease, asked to be relieved from
active duty.

At the Indian Mission Conference he preached the funer-
al-sermon of his old Tennessee friend the Rev. Wilson L.
McAlister. Together they had fought the good fight of
faith many years before. They had loved each other long
and tenderly. For twenty years Brother McAlister had
been a missionary to the Indians. He was a man of great
purity of character and of high order of talents. The
Bishop’s text was, “Every man that hath this hope in hin
purifieth himself, even as he is pure” (1 John iii. 3). His
object was to show the purifying power of the Christian
188 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

hope as it was manifested in the life and character of Wil-
son L. McAlister. He says of him: “Pure, lovely, useful.”
Purity of heart had long been a favorite doctrine of the
Bishop. It was becoming more and more so. During this
trip to the five Western Conferences he preached twenty-one
times, and often with great liberty. He received such bap-
tisms of the Holy Spirit as caused his heart to rejoice with
unspeakable joy. He was happy in the enjoyment of a pure
religion. He does not hesitate to record in his journal these
manifestations of the love of God and the joy which filled
his soul. It has often been said that the Bishop’s preaching
lacked the subjective element. He did not often speak of
himself in the pulpit. This fact ‘led some to believe that
he did not enjoy that deep experience and sweet commun-
ion with God which are very apparent in his diary. The
diary was intended for his own eye. He did not expect it
to be read by others. It is full of religious emotion. A
constant cry for a deeper work of grace, accompanied by
thanksgiving, is found permeating these brief life-notes.
“ Praise him—yes, praisehim! Iam happy. Living or dying,
I am the Lord’s!” Such passages as these show that joy
aud peace were the fruits of the Spirit in his own heart.
These transporting feelings sometimes bore him beyond
himself in the pulpit, and caused him to give a shout of
triumph. I remember once to have heard him at an An-
nual Conference thrill an immense congregation by a burst
of praise. He had occasion to quote the song of the angels
at the birth of Christ, “Glory to God in the highest,” etc.
“ Brethren,” said he, “I have often heard thatsong. I have
heard it as coming from angel songsters, as it floated over
the vine-clad hills of Palestine, and along the shores of her
winding streams, and up her mountain slopes, and down her
fertile valleys. I have heard it sung by the young convert
as with streaming eyes and countenance all aglow he for the
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 139

 

first time gave glory to God. I have heard it from the old
soldier of the cross, who after gaining some signal victory
over the foe gave vent to his feelings in a shout of praise.
T have heard it from the dying Christian, as the clouds of
death were gilded with celestial light and he seemed to look
through the open doors and into the eternal city. Yes,
brethren, I have heard it from hundreds at one time as
they joined in hearty chorus, giving glory to God. And
however and whenever I have heard it, whether from angels
or from happy Christians, young or old, living or dying, I
have said, Ill join them, I’ll join them. ‘Glory to God in
the highest, and on earth peace, good-will toward men!’”
Then it was his lips seemed touched “with a live coal from
off the altar.” His fine face was in a glow of excitement.
The immense congregation, composed largely of Methodist
preachers, was deeply moved, and, “Amen! I’ll join them,”
came up in tremulous, joyous tones from scores of happy
listeners.
140 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

CHAPTER XXVI.

WatcH-nigHt—JoHn Hersey—BucHanan—INTERESTING
Visitr—THREATENINGS OF WAR.
FTER his long Western tour of 1859, he arrived at his
home in time to enjoy another watch-night. He says:
“Thank God for the last year! So many blessings of provi-
dence and grace. I am the Lord’s, and all mine is his.
My covenant of consecration, full and perpetual, I renew.
Amen.” In this manner he was constantly renewing his
consecration to God. “All mine is his.” Could a conse-
cration be more thorough? With this vow upon him, he
entered upon the year 1860.

Early in January he was visited by his old friend the
Rev. John Hersey, who was a man of singular piety. He
was a radical on the subject of dress, as also on the duties
of fasting. When Robert Paine was quite a youth, he be-
came acquainted with this remarkable man. He induced
him to fast twice in the week when he was performing full
work on a circuit extending over several thousand square
miles, It greatly affected his health, and had it been per-
sisted in, would probably have caused his death. John
Hersey was, however, a good man. He spent years as a
missionary in Africa, and was ever ready to do or to suffer
for the Master’s cause. More than forty years had passed
since their last meeting. The Bishop gave him a cordial
welcome to his own elegant home, and was glad to hear him
deliver sermon after sermon in the church at Aberdeen.
He enjoyed the visit of this remarkable man, and wrote an
interesting account of it which was published in one of our
Southern papers. He left home in October for the Holston
BISHOP OF THE M. E, CHURCH, SOUTH. 141

 

Conference. He stopped at Knoxville and preached to a
large, attentive, and serious congregation. The Conference
was held at Asheville, where he met Dr. H. N. McTyeire
and heard him preach an impressive sermon prior to the
ordination of elders at 38 o’clock p.m. on the Sabbath.
The Bishop had preached in the forenoon on “Occupy till
Icome.” A trial of one of the first ministers gave the
Bishop great trouble. Such trials always affected him very
much. His love for the Church caused him to feel the
deepest anxiety in regard to the result of the trial of a
brother minister. He always felt the deep need of a pure
ministry and of a holy Church. In a trial of the promi-
nent member of the Holston Conference, he was rejoiced
that the minister was cleared by a vote almost unanimous,
and that the Church would not be injured.

He arrived at home in time to witness the death of one
of his most precious friends, Mrs. George Phelan, the wife
of Senator Phelan, and sister of Mrs. Governor Ed. O’Neal,
of Alabama. She died right, as she had lived right. She
was the granddaughter of old Father Moore, of Huntsville,
Ala., at the time of his death the oldest Methodist minister
on this continent. The Bishop and his family loved her
much, and deeply mourned her death. He had known her
from childhood, and always recognized her as one of the
best of Christian women. The country was at this time in
the greatest excitement of its political history. He enters
in his journal: “ Lincoln will be elected to-morrow President
of the United States, and then I fear the dissolution
of the Union.” Immediately after the Presidential elec-
tion, he held the Virginia Conference and visited Washing-
ton City. He was the guest of Secretary Floyd, a member
of Mr. Buchanan’s cabinet. Of his visit to President Buch-
anan he says:

“In filling my appointments of ‘episcopal visitation,’ J

 
142 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

was to preside at the Virginia Conference in Alexandria,
beginning Wednesday, Nov. 21, 1860. Arriving at Wash-
ington City several days in advance of that date, and while
dining, by invitation, at Governor Floyd’s, a note was re-
ceived from President Buchanan requesting him to bring
me with him to the White House that evening. Governor
Floyd was then Secretary of War, and Mr. Lincoln had
been elected President, but not inaugurated. Soon after
supper, at which the late Bishop (then Dr.) Doggett, stationed
in the city, was also present, the Governor and myself went
to see Mr. Buchanan. Not having finished his tea, he in-
sisted that, as there was no other company present, we should
go with him into the dining-room. He soon introduced the
subject of the threatened ‘secession’—saying, in substance,
that he had learned through his Secretary of War that I
was a Southern Methodist Bishop upon a tour of official
duty through the Southern States, and resided in Missis-
sippi; that he would like to know what are really the facts
as to the public sentiment in the South. ‘What will the
Southern States do? Will they follow South Carolina if
she goes out? or will they likely split upon the question?
And what about South Carolina? can any thing be done to
prevent rash action on her part?? He wished to learn
from a candid and reliable man who loves his country a
fair statement of his views on these points. In reply, I ob-
served that, as regarded myself, as I was never a politician,
having studiously avoided partisan excitement—insomuch
that for thirty years past I had not voted for a President,
in order to give an example to younger ministers, and thus
to reserve my influence for moral and religious ends—I might
not be good authority upon the political questions now so
seriously endangering the harmony of the Union; that my
opinion as to what the South would do was not formed by
personal intercourse while on my Conference visitations
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 148

 

during the year, as I had attended but one, and that was the
Holston held at Asheville, N. C., where I had always un-
derstood political parties were generally about equally di-
vided; but how they stood on that question I knew not—had
not inquired. In fact, all I knew was from the public press
and casual talk while traveling. It afforded an opportunity,
which was gladly embraced, of saying that while we preach-
ers claimed, as citizens, all the rights and immunities of
freemen, we had adopted the principles of discouraging and
opposing the introduction and discussion of all purely po-
litical questions in our Conferences and pulpits; and that
this was so well understood and approved by our preachers
that since the organization of the Southern Church I had
witnessed no attempt to violate it. But as he seemed de-
sirous to know my opinion, I frankly told him that since I
left my home in Mississippi I had learned that the Legis-
lature had been called, and with a view to a convention,
which I presumed would likely take action upon the ques-
tion of secession; and I apprehended that she and the other
Southern States would likely follow South Carolina. He
seemed greatly troubled—would sip his tea, get up and
walk about the room, and again take his seat, and presently
resume the walk. He evidently felt distressed ; regarded it
as wrong—wrong to him personally as a Democrat and
ever a friend to the South, and involving principles and re-
sults extremely dangerous; results no one could fully fore-
tell. Isympathized with him. Upon his alluding to the
evils of division and the probability of a civil war, I re-
minded him that some thought that from what he had pub-
lished he held the opinion that the United States troops
could not be legally employed against a sovereign State ta
such a case. There was a pause, and the Secretary replied:
‘We have carefully looked into that question, and have not
found the authority to do so.’ The President, I believe,
144 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

made no direct reply, simply remarking: ‘When the pas-
sions of men are aroused, there is no telling where the
thing will end.’ The subject was dropped as to that point.
He, however, appeared anxious to prolong the conversation,
and to get my views as to the dangers ahead, and as to the
best way to prevent an outbreak. I candidly told him that
I feared a conflict might occur, without design of either the
State of South Carolina or the United States, at Charleston ;
and that probably by prudence and forbearance for awhile
feelings would calm down, and the danger’ subside. In this
I was plainly telling my convictions and hopes, for I con-
fess I did not then appreciate the imminency of the storm.
I inquired of him, ‘What kind of a man have you at Fort
Moultrie?’ To this he responded quickly: ‘By the by, that
reminds me that the officer there reported last week that a
collision had like to have occurred at the Charleston wharf
between our men and some citizens, as to the right or pref-
erence of our captain’s little vessel and some hot-bloods, and
was only avoided by cool-headed citizens.’ As to the officer,
he said: ‘He is somewhat nervous, a Northerner, a good
officer, but not likely to forbear much.’ I asked him if it
might not be better to have another man from neither South

nor New England—a ‘firm, good-natured Western man.
While we all felt very uneasy as to the future, I was hope
ful, trusting that if things could be kept quiet until the in-
coming Administration should be firmly seated, our sky
would brighten, and by some unforeseen means amity be re-
stored. I think the President and Governor Floyd had the
same hopes.

“Before that interview closed, I was asked if I had any
acquaintance in South Carolina who might be competent
and willing to write a few strong articles, and get them pub-
lished in a paper in Columbia or Charleston, discouraging
an outbreak by the young men. After reflecting awhile, J
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 145

 

told him my acquaintance among that class of men there
was very limited, as it required a literary and influential
man, whose name, qualities, and position were not easily
found by a transient visitor as I had been in that State;
but I thought I knew one man who could do it, and might
be willing to do so in the interest of peace, law, and order,
although decidedly and in every respect a Southerner. Up-
on his saying that the fact last mentioned would give his
advice more weight, and asking me to write to him, I agreed
to do so. I did write to my friend; he consented, and I
learned he redeemed his promise, and it was thought with
good effect. This conversation took place Nov. 19, 1860;
and I here state positively that during it nothing was said
or intimated that any of the ‘forts, arsenals, or other prop-
erty of the United States at Charleston, was to be surren-
dered to the State.’ I soon learned that Major Anderson
was in command there—a Western man,I believe—and
that an increased confidence was felt for the conservation of
peace until Congress should meet; but the shadows deep-
ened, and astorm burst suddenly. So much I deem just to
the dead and the living. R. Paine.”

Bishop Paine was a prudent Christian patriot. At the
South Carolina Conference resolutions were offered in sym-
pathy with the secession movement. He ruled them out of
order, and they were not pressed upon the Conference.
The Bishop held the reins with a firm grasp. He said, “ Pol-
itics cannot be allowed in a Methodist Conference.” They
were therefore kept out. Would that they had always been
kept out of Methodist Conferences! The South Carolina
Conference was the last over which he presided before the
terrible internecine war which for four terrible years swept
like a fearful cyclone over our dear Southland.

10
146 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

CHAPTER XXVII.

Tue Crvin War—SorRow upon SoRRow.

HORTLY after the session of the Virginia Conference,
during which he had his interview with President Buch-
anan, he returned home, and awaited events with the great-
est anxiety. With the fall of Sumter the call was made
by President Lincoln for seventy-five thousand volunteers.
The bloody war of four long, disastrous years followed.
During these years he kept no regular diary. A note now
and then of an important battle, of a terrible raid, of the
death of some dear friend killed in battle, or of a day ap-
pointed for fasting and prayer, and then a pious, tearful
ejaculation, “O God, protect our people!” constituted about
all that can be found among his papers of what he recorded
during the war. He was not a politician, and I never
knew whether he favored the secession movement or not.
When, however, his people were involved in this internecine
strife, all his sympathies were with his native South. He
was much discouraged from almost the beginning of the
war. He staid much at home. He communed with his
own heart. He offered silent, secret, fervent prayer to
God. He preached mostly in the country to those who
needed much his pious counsel and spiritual teachings. He
held but few Conferences. He sometimes visited the Con-
federate armies and preached to the soldiers. The regular
work ,of the itinerant Methodist ministry was to a large
extent broken up. The portion of country in which he
lived was subject to raids at any time after the fall of Fort
Pillow and Nashville and Memphis; and then Natchez and
Vicksburg fell into the hands of the victorious North.
What could he do? He was then more than sixty years
BISHOP OF THE M. E, CHURCH, SOUTH. 147

 

old, and he was not able to undergo the toils and sufferings
of a soldier’s life. Besides, his warfare was one not to be
fought with carnal weapons. He was a soldier of the cross,
and he could wield no other sword than the “sword of the
Spirit.” He prepared himself for the defeat which he well
knew was sure to come. He saw it coming long before
President Davis or his cabinet thought of any thing else
than Southern independence. At the instance of many
friends he visited Richmond at an early period of the war,
and sought to arouse the Confederate President to a sense
of the certain ruin that was soon to come to Mississippi, and
then to all the South. His wise and moderate words were
not heeded. Other counsels prevailed. He returned to
his home patient, resigned. It was all right. God knew
what was best for the South. The noblest and truest men
of the South were disappointed. Never were a people more
thoroughly subdued. They fought until the “last ditch”
was reached, and they could fight no more. Having fought
bravely, the officers of the Southern armies, from General
Robert E. Lee to the humblest captain, surrendered in good
faith. The almost universal sentiment among the good peo-
ple of the South was submission to the Government by which
they had been subdued.

During the war he had charge of the chaplains in the
Southern army, and often himself preached to the soldiers,
both in and out of camp. He nursed the sick and wounded
in hospitals, and when practicable had his own house full of
them. His capture was strongly desired by troops making -
raids through North Mississippi. He was told by a re-
turned Confederate prisoner that in a conversation between
two Federal officers it was said that they intended to carry
that old rebel Bishop back with them if he could be found;
consequently he frequently left home unexpectedly and spent
days and nights in the forest to avoid capture—Aberdeen
148 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

being on contested ground, and being much exposed to raids
from the invading army. Mrs. Scruggs (his daughter) sends
us the following, taken from her diary kept during the war:

“January 1, 1865.—Father returned home to-day from
the southern part of the State, where he had been to avoid
the Federal raid.

“January 2.—Federal soldiers reported burning farm-
houses north of Aberdeen. Father on horseback, ready to
leave town at any time.

“February 13.—He preached to the soldiers in camp to-
day.

“February 25.—Father and mother went to his plantation
to superintend the nursing of his sick negroes, thirty-eight
being down with the measles at the same time. Many of
the negroes are very ill, and many died. One old family
servant, to whom he was much attached, was very low with
the measles. He nursed her day and night, and when he
discovered she must die, he informed her of her danger,
prayed with her, and told her if after she became speech-
less her faith was still unwavering, to raise her hand. Just
before she breathed her last she did raise her hand toward
heaven, and said in a feeble voice: ‘Master, all is right!’
My mother, who witnessed the scene, said father shouted
and praised God for such a victory.”

Soon after this event, he writes: “There are rumors of
peace. lLee’s army probably surrendered. The Southern
cause is lost. Let us betake ourselves to the arts of peace.
I may not dwell upon the horrors of this war. I will say,
however, that the best blood of the South was poured out like
water. Boys of fifteen were putin the army. My own dear
boy of fifteen went, and received a wound from which he suf-
fered to hisdying-day. Old men went forth towar. The wom-
en gave up every luxury, and returned to the spinning-wheel
and theloom. They took the carpets from their floors and the
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 149

 

curtains from their windows to give to the soldiers. And
yet, in two weeks after the proclamation that the ‘ rebellion
was at an end,’ all was peace among our people. There
were no armed men; there were no raids. Highway rob-
beries were of rare occurrence. Difficulties between the
whites and blacks seldom took place. The fight had heen
terrible, but now all the good and true men and self-sacri-
ficing women were for obedience to the laws and loyalty to
the Government.” Such was the position at once assumed
by Bishop Paine. He counseled forbearance. He urged
the practice of kindness to the race just freed from slavery.
He inculeated both by precept and example the cultiva-
tion of the highest justice and honesty in all dealings be-
tween the races. He was strong, and showed himself a
man—a noble, true, Christian man—in this hour which
tried men’s souls. Always conservative, prudent, and cau-
tious, he was never more so than at this important juncture,
which threw upon him as one of the leading minds and one
of the first men in the South such grave responsibility.

I shall ever believe that it was owing to the teachings
of such pure, good men as Bishops Paine and Capers, the
two Pierces, father and son, and of others of similar char-
acter, that during the whole war the whites and negroes
at the South lived in such peace. Within less than one
hundred miles of Bishop Paine’s home the sound of a bugle
would reach the ears of five thousand negroes, and the same
blast could not be heard by more than fifty white men; and
these white men were mostly aged and infirm, and they,
with their homes, wives, and daughters, were entirely in the
power of these negroes. Yet no harm befell. In many
places large plantations were cultivated entirely by negroes,
_ without the oversight of any white man, and all went on in
peace and safety. God was in the teaching of such men as
we have named, or rapine and murder would have been the
150 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

order of theday. Bishop Paine in the third year of his min-
istry volunteered to go as a missionary to Africa. This he
did under the appeals made to him by a negro preacher, as
recorded in Redford’s History of Methodism in Kentucky.
Before his election as Bishop, he told me that he intended
to leave La Grange College and devote himself to the mis-
sionary work among the negroes of Mississippi. He always
felt the deepest interest in that race. He was the best of
masters. He preached to them on every suitable occasion.
And now he was rewarded by the perfect good feeling and
confidence which existed between the two races during a war
waged with terrible severity, not to say relentless cruelty.

The following abstract of a speech delivered by him in
the Methodist church in Aberdeen, Mississippi, where he
lived, at the close of the war, will give additional force to
what has been written here of the influence exerted by him
in the interests of law and order:

“We have passed through four years of fierce and bloody
war. It is over. The decision has been made by the mili-
tury authorities; and I presume I might add with the ad-
vice of the civil authorities also, for doubtless they have
concurred with the military, though not formally and in
their official capacities. Our troops have been surrendered,
aod will all soon be paroled. Our armies, as such, exist no
lunger. The whole country east of the Mississippi River
now resumes its place in the Union. What, then, is the
proper course to be pursued by citizens? His own convic-
tion on this subject was clear and decided: It is that we
should calmly, quietly, and unanimously resume our former
position as peaceful citizens, and in good faith enter as such
upon the performance of our duties. Our country has cer-
tainly suffered enough in all that is dear to us. Thousands
of precious lives have been lost, and millions of property
destroyed. But let us henceforth turn our thoughts and
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 151

 

efforts to the pursuits of life which are necessary and use-
ful. The poor, afflicted, and bereaved must be cared for.
The education of our children must be provided for. The
tendency to demoralization, that invariable concomitant of
war, must be arrested; and law, order, and fidelity to every
social, civil, and religious duty must be encouraged and sus-
tained by us. Let all the soldiers heed the advice and follow
the example of their leaders, who have given up the struggle.
Let them receive the parole agreed upon, and in good faith
lay aside their arms, return to their families and friends, and
become useful citizens. Let them not yield to the tempta-
tion to carry on a guerrilla warfare, which we have ever re-
garded as wrong in principle. Such a warfare, moreover,
would result in no good, but bring great and continued dis-
tress upon the country and utterly ruin those engaged in
it. Finally, having always disapproved of using the pul-
pit to discuss political questions in which angry passions are
sought to be aroused, he solemnly and deliberately advised
his countrymen on the east side of the Mississippi River—
and if his voice could be heard, he would thus speak to
those on the west side also—to resume in good faith their
former positions as law-abiding and peaceful citizens.
And in closing my remarks,” said Bishop Paine, “I can
with more propriety address my brethren in the ministry
who are present, to say to them that I respectfully and
2arnestly advise them all to use their influence, both pub-
licly and privately, for the promotion of peace and quiet-
ness among all classes, and especially among the ministers
and members of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South.”

These sentiments of the Bishop commend themselves to
the approval of all dispassionate and thinking men, and as
such we give them to our readers.*

 

*This was published at the time in an Aberdeen paper, and fur.
nished the author by his daughter, Mrs. Ludie P. Scruggs.
152 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

CHAPTER XXVIII.

“Nores or Lirr”—SEEkiInG For Trura—Dr. Bascom—Portt-
1cAL IssuEs—PRESIDENT MonrozE—Missions AMONG THE In-
pians—De Soro.

ISHOP PAINE, in his “Notes of Life,” published after

he had attained to four-score years, presents us with
many reminiscences and incidents which are valuable helps
in forming an estimate of his character. The painstaking
industry and thoughtful application in search of truth, which
are so rare, and yet so necessary to decision of character, he
exhibits in the following extract:

“Having been reared under Baptist influence, and edu-
cated of late by Presbyterian ministers, I had naturally
imbibed Calvinistic views; but while I yielded the uncon-
ditional predestination dogma, my immersion sentiment re-
mained unchanged for some time. At last I resolved to
examine the question prayerfully. It had been in our aca-
demic course of study to recite occasionally in the Greek
Testament, and this habit of reading some in it daily I con-
tinued. I thus began to read the New Testament with ref-
erence to the Greek, to find out, if possible, from the word
of God the mode of baptism, determined to adhere to my
mature convictions whatever they might be or wherever
they might lead me. In doing so I confess I had but little
doubt that I could soon place my finger upon the texts which
would confirm my belief in immersion as the Bible mode.
John baptizing in Jordan came up first. Is the mode of
Christian baptism here? If s0, is it immersion? I was
forced to answer, No, it was not Christian baptism, and
not necessarily by immersion. The ‘burial by baptism’

‘
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 153

 

was spiritual, and ‘unto death,’ and does not’ relate to wa-
ter, much less to the mode of baptism. The case of Philip
and the eunuch was next examined. I had heard going
down into and coming out of the water often quoted, ac
companied with gestures of plunging into and lifting up, as
illustrating the act of baptizing referred to, but aside from
the fact that the Greek prepositions rendered into and out
of are equally as susceptible of being translated to and from,
they do not at all express the act of baptism—that act took
place in the interval between going into and coming out of,
for after it is said ‘they both went down,’ it is added, ‘and
he baptized him;’ and then ‘they came up,’ etc. Here
again I was disappointed. Going down from the chariot
was preparatory to the baptism, and coming up consequent
upon it, no matter by what mode it was administered. Thus,
to say nothing as to the improbabilities of an immersion in
this instance growing out of that part of the Scripture which
Philip was explaining, in which the term ‘sprinkling’ is
expressly used, and that the eunuch at once went on his
journey, while nothing is even intimated that his whole per-
son was submerged, the question, Where is the Bible proof
of immersion? became involved in serious doubts. Is the
proof in the case of St. Paul, Cornelius, Lydia, or the
jailer? All these unmistakably point another way. Is it
in the Greek word translated, or transferred, baptize? Would
the Saviour, after repeatedly using the word bapto, which is
translated, correctly too, ‘to dip,’ lay it aside when he enjoins
Christian baptism, and then substitute for it baptizo, if bap-
tism can be performed only by dipping (especially if bap-
tizo is not used specifically elsewhere in the New Testament
to mean dip)? Why not avoid all misconception and diffi-
culty by continuing to use the word bapto, which he inva-
riably employs to express dip?

“And of what special importance is the mode of baptism
154 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

more than that of the other great sacrament? Why not
attach as much importance to the mode of communicating
and receiving the holy eucharist? As the essentials of the
latter are bread and wine, a fit recipient, and an authorized
administrator, while the quality of the bread and wine and
the posture of the receiver are admitted by all to be unes-
sential, why is not baptism with water, in the name of the
Trinity, administered by an authorized minister to a fit sub
ject, really water baptism, irrespective of quantity of water
used or the posture of the subject? Finally, as water bap-
tism is a sign or symbol of that baptism of the Holy Spirit
by which we are washed and purified internally, and as the
antitype, spiritual baptism, is an act of God, described as
pouring, is it not proper to follow him, and to baptize as he
does, by pouring? Such considerations cleared away the
fogs of my early prepossessions, and longer experience and
study have only strengthened and satisfied me. Having
deliberately concluded to do so, I was thus baptized by
Miles Harper, in Franklin, Tenn., November 3, 1817.
“The process of reasoning which satisfied me as to the bap-
tism of children was short and simple. God is King; the
Church his kingdom; children have ever been recognized
citizens in it. It was so in its organization under the Abra-
hamic covenant, which is the gospel covenant, unchanged
in essentials and substance—only modified in services—
the same King and kingdom. When and by whom were
children disfranchised and exiled from the kingdom?
Not by Christ, who took them in his arms, and proclaimed
‘little children’—‘infants’—to be subjects of his kingdom,
the Church (Matt. xix. 14). ‘Of such is the kingdom of
heaven’—i. ¢., let them come, for my kingdom is of such.
Again, ‘Except ye be converted and become as little chil-
dren, ye shall not enter the kingdom of heaven’ (Matt.
xviii. 3). If adults must become internally like children
.

BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 156

 

to fit them for citizenship, surely children themselves have
an original, rightful claim to citizenship in it; and as wa-
ter baptism is the only full and formal recognition of citi-
zenship, they are consequently entitled to it. Did not our
Lord teach Nicodemus that while the internal operation,
‘born again,’ is a requisite ‘to see the kingdom of God’
(John iii. 3), baptism, or to be born of water as well as
of the Spirit, is needful to a formal and full recognition
and entrance into the gospel Church? Was not all this a
reaffirmation and confirmation of the chartered rights and
privileges of the beneficiaries of the original covenant with
Abraham, ‘confirmed before of God in Christ,’ which can-
not be ‘disannulled?’ Surely it was not a reversal or re-
peal of the original law, and of universal usage under it.
Certainly neither the apostles nor their opponents under-
stood it so. A change so radical would have been at once
denounced by the latter and recorded unequivocally by the
evangelists. It could not have been unnoticed. It involved
the status of every child. Then many Rachels would have
wailed and refused to be comforted. The apostles and
early Christians did not understand that Christ had closed
the door against these children, and that ‘the promise was
not to their children,’ as well as to them. The fact is that
no question of the kind is more certainly established than
that infant baptism was the prevailing custom of the early
and purest period of the Christian Church. I find no evi-
dence that the right of children to this ordinance was denied
for the first thousand years after Christ. The postponement
of baptism from infancy to maturity came with other er-
rors.”

Of Henry B. Bascom, a pulpit orator who had no equal
in his day, we have an appreciative notice. The time is
the second or third year of the young itinerant, and the
vividness of the impressicn made upon his mind by the
156 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

peerless Bascom is recalled after the lapse of nearly sixty
years:

“As the year advanced the congregations grew larger, and
our quarterly and camp meetings were glorious seasons of
refreshing. At the camp-meeting held at Thomas’s, about
ten miles east of Franklin, H. B. Bascom preached to a
vast multitude, on Rev. vi. 17: ‘For the great day of his
wrath is come, and who shall be able to stand?’ It was
awfully sublime, and for effect I have never seen it sur-
passed. The whole congregation unconsciously rose to their
feet, and with eyes fixed upon the speaker moved toward
the pulpit. The peroration was overwhelming. It was on
Sunday afternoon, during the camp-meeting held in the
open air, under the wide-spread branches of gigantic trees,
and upon an eminence commanding a wide range of view.
The sky wore the somber cast of Indian summer; the sun,
seen through the dusky atmosphere, grew larger as it slowly
declined to the horizon, becoming lurid and portentous; not
a breath of air disturbed the overhanging boughs; nature
seemed in ominous repose, and nothing was heard save the
voice of the prince of pulpit orators. Now in low, solemn,
tender tones of suppressed emotion, he pictured the ‘ great’
day, and warned of its ‘coming unawares;’ and anon, in
short, rapid, successive denunciations, like the sharp rattle
of a hundred rifles in quick succession, foreshadowing ‘the
day of his wrath;’ closing by alluding to the scenic sur-
roundings of earth and sky, and the imperative duty of
immediate preparation for ‘the inevitable hour.’ Hun-
dreds bowed for prayer, and there was no other preaching
until the next day, when he preached on ‘Add to your
faith,’ ete.”

Although Bishop Paine did not suffer himself to be en-
tangled with the political discussions and the party strifes
of his day, he was by no means an indifferent spectator in
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 157

 

the memorable struggles of the past. The accuracy of his
information upon subjects of political and national history
cannot be questioned. In his “Notes of Life” he says:
“The year 1819-20 wasa memorable period. It wassuch
to the country, to the Church, and in my own personal his-
tory. Politically it was eventful. It marked the opening
of a great struggle, which, like the low muttering of: a dis-
tant storm, had been occasionally heard by prescient states-
man, but now assumed a definite and visible form of a por-
tentous cyclone, overspreading the fairest and happiest land
beneath the sky. I allude to the admission of Missouri into
the Federal Union by Congress, when for the first time the
question of slavery divided the country by a geographical
line. The culmination of that storm was the four-years’
civil war 0° 1861-65. The deplorable results of that frat-
ricidal struggle are too well known to require repetition or
comment. The evils of it are inconceivable, and the re-
sponsibility for it must be decided by the only court of su-
preme jurisdiction. If I felt in any degree responsible for
it, I think it would craze me. Thank God, I do not!
“Among other important events of that period were the
promulgation and establishment of the ‘Monroe Doctrine’
of non-intervention of foreign powers with the South Amer-
ican States and Territories; the right of the Federal Gov-
ernment to make internal improvements; the admission of
Missouri, Mississippi, Illinois, Alabama, and Maine into the
Union; the cession of Florida (East and West), and adja-
cent islands, to the United States by Spain; and the approval
of the act establishing the Bank of the United States by
Congress. The discussion of these topics in the Congres-
sional and Legislative halls of the United States was like so
many volcanic outbursts, threatening the very upheaval
and destruction of the political frame-work of our Govern-
ment. Fortunately Congress never was filled by so many
158 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.vD.

 

great men. It was the war of giants. The tremors of that
antagonism are not over, but occasionally throb in the body
politic.

“Some of these questions—the first-named especially—
were such as naturally and almost of necessity produced a
great sectional sensation in Church as well as State rela-
tions. And thus the most delicate and dangerous of all
moral, political, and economic questions, which might pos-
sibly have been peacefully and safely adjusted in the calm-
ness of fraternal debate by patriotic, Christian statesman-
ship, became a wedge in the hands of impassioned partisans
and uncompromising fanatics to rend and nearly destroy the
boasted fabric of our national Union. The darkest page
in Protestant history is that which records the civil war of
our States in 1861-65. Great men, like powerful locomo-
tives, are dangerous without a corresponding controlling
power. An archangel would be a safe custodian of a na-
tion, but without purity he would wreck and ruin it. Un-
fortunately our statesmen proved unequal to the crisis.

“To the Church also this was an era of unusual impor-
tance. Our Methodism, in common with other Protestant
denominations, had made gradual and decisive advances in
every department of Christian enterprise. Revivals had
been extensive, accessions of members unusually great, the
number of candidates for the ministry had multiplied,
and withal their gifts, grace, and usefulness indicated a
higher grade of qualifications. Led and stimulated by her
able and consecrated chief pastors and experienced preach-
ers, and by the codperation of laymen, there was a forward
movement all along the Church-line. The watchmen had
long prayed, and anxiously looked out from their watch-
towers; had responded to the ery, ‘What of the night?’
‘The morning cometh, and also the night.’ A crisis was at
hand, but the promised day had not burst. The yearning
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 159

 

heart and the eye of faith wistfully turned to read in the
signs of the times the realization of a brighter era. Heaven
had been preparing the Church and the world for a great
advance step. As in the age after Julius Cesar passed away.
the temple of Janus was shut, so when Napoleon Bonaparte,
whose character and history strikingly resembled the Roman
usurper, had been dethroned, white-robed peace seemed to
have come down to dwell again among the nations.

“This turbulent spirit, at once the terror of Europe and
the pride and scourge of France, having risen frum obscu-
rity by the combination of extraordinary political events,
controlled by a masterful mind, had been chafing like
caged lion, in a lonely island of the ocean since 1815, and
the world looked on and breathed free. By the treaty of
Ghent England and America had made peace, while Spain
and the tribes of Indians upon our frontier had joined us
in new treaties of amity. Even theological warriors beat
the ‘drum ecclesiastic’ less long and loud, and Christians
looked into each other’s faces, and began to ask if the points
in which they could agree were not as many as those about
which they differed, and more important. Itsoon appeared
that while the different Protestant denominations had been
at war among themselves about the meaning of the Bible as to
‘mint, anise, and cummin,’ they had neglected the weightier
matter of giving the Book itself to the people. In this, at
least, they could all unite. In 1816 the American Bible
Society was organized, and as was eminently fit and signfi-
cant, this precious book became the great basis of Christian
union. To print and distribute it in all languages, and put
it into the hands of all men, was its acknowledged mission.

“Up to this date there had been no regular missionaries
sent by our people into heathen lands, nor any society among
us formed for the purpose. The earth swarmed with be-
nighted humanity. Even upon our own continent, at our
160 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

door, and throughout our whole borders, they lived by myr-
iads; but until 1820 there had been no efficient organiza-
tion of missionary or Sunday-school societies through which
the Christian zeal and philanthropy of our Church could
operate. But the time had come—the heathen cry for
help had been heard, and the response had been quickly
and gladly uttered by many, ‘Here are we, send us.’ Al-
most simultaneously these agencies started upon their glo-
rious careers. The faithful watchman, who long had waited,
cried from his lofty tower, ‘Lo, the day breaketh, and the
night is over and gone!’ ‘The clock of ages had struck,’
and a new era had begun.”

The field for the sowing of the good seed of the kingdom
was widening every year. The restless spirit of the popu-
lation in the Eastern and Middle States gave occasion to
the laud speculators of the time, and they seized it to prac-
tice extortion upon the people. Of this swelling stream of
immigration, and of the heartless exactions of land monop-
olists, he says:

“After the accession of Mr. Monroe to the Presidency, in
1817, a vast amount of fertile land, recently obtained from
various Indian tribes, was offered for sale at public auction
by the Government, especially in the South-western States.
Immigration poured in like a flood—the land speculation
mania rose to a high pitch. Capitalists formed associations
to purchase extensively and to put down competition. The
‘land sales’ became scenes of the wildest disorder. The
plain and honest immigrant, who came with moderate
means to secure a home, found it needful to join a company
to prevent being crushed, and even then had been compellal
to pay a high price for his home, by the grasping speculators.
Mr. Monroe, in a tour of personal observation through the
States, visited Huntsville, Ala., after such a scene had oc-
curred there, and attended a great public dining given him
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 161

 

The occasion was unusual—the personnel of President Mon-
roe, his history as a soldier and patriot statesman, and the
vast and intelligent concourse present, made it an impressive
day. A toast was offered, complimentary to the distin-
guished guest and to the Government, closing by allusion to
the high price for the public land by the people to swell the
coffers of the General Government. In reply, the President
arose to his feet and gracefully responded to the compli-
ment. Hewas large, finely formed, and of noble mien; and
standing in the midst of the most wealthy, finely dressed,
and intelligent crowd which the South could show; he ap-
peared in a blue homespun coat cut in military style of the
Revolution, light-colored vest and trousers, and cocked hat.
A shade is said to have passed over his face as he closed
by saying he had been made sorry by hearing that those
who wished for homes for their families had been obliged,
by speculators, to pay high prices; that the United States
wanted citizens and actual settlers upon her lands, and only
required the cost of them. -The sentiment was a right one,
and some present winced under it. In many cases those
who had agreed to pay from twenty to sixty dollars per acre
for lands were obliged to forfeit them after they had made
one or two annual payments for them, and were imbittered
by having to surrender them to others. In parts of Alabama
this was specially the case. The immigrants were generally,
however, of the better class of citizens from the Southern
Atlantic States, and from Tennessee and Kentucky. They
made fine citizens.”

The pioneer in the West and South-west had no sooner
built a log-house, and cleared a few acres of land, than the
Methodist preacher arrived, to summon him to thoughts of
God, heaven, and eternity. The organization of missionary
societies Bishop Paine has already noticed. In the follow-
ing extract he enters into details:

11
162 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

“The formation of the first missionary society among the
Methodists, to operate among the Indians, occurred in Tusca-
loosa, in the spring or early summer of 1820. I am now
aware that Dr. Bangs had brought this subject to notice in
New York about that period, and that at the General Con-
ference held that year it had been determined to organize
such a society, and that a constitution had been adopted
and officers appointed—of all which we were profoundly
ignorant when the members of our Church, together with
the citizens of the community generally, united in the little
shanty of the Methodist meeting-house in Tuscaloosa and
formed a ‘Missionary Association’ to Christianize and edu-
cate the.two large tribes of Indians—Chickasaws and Choc-
taws—our immediate neighbors. The lapse of over sixty
years has not effaced the remembrance of my feelings when,
after all the preliminaries had been finished, the writer was
urged by the unanimous vote of the society to visit the
Choctaws, to obtain the consent of the chiefs and council to
admit missionaries, and if successful, to select a site for a
school, nominate a superintendent, and report so soon as
possible. All which was done, as heretofore related, while
prosecuting this enterprise. After consulting the United
States official representative in the Choctaw Nation, and
being assured of a cordial welcome, and when seeking a lo-
cation for a school, I was taken ill of a malarial fever, and
was detained so long, and so enfeebled, that I was obliged
to give over the further effort to explore the country. I
had, however, the pleasure of reporting to our association
that the way was open, and that the vicinity of the ‘Six
Towns’ was by common consent recommended as the best
location for the school. I was also authorized to nominate
Nicholas T. Sneed as willing to take charge of it if the soci-
ety and the Conference would go promptly into it.

“ Why this attempt to send the blessed gospel with its train
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 163

 

of civil, social, and religious influences was not carried for-
ward at once, I know not. Early in the fall I left the coun-
try to attend the Tennessee Conference. Hearn, Renau,
and Sneed fell into the Mississippi Conference, and by the
act of the General Conference that whole section of country
was attached to the Mississippi Conference.

“A few years later, through the labors of the Conference
missionaries—the Talleys especially—an extraordinary re-
vival occurred in that tribe. Hersey and the Presbyterian
Mission had prepared the way, while Folsom, Le Flore, and
other Choctaw chiefs, were instrumental in a glorious work
of moral and religious benefit to the whole Nation.

“It is not surprising that ethnology, the science which
treats of the different races of men, should be an interesting
subject to an intelligent people; for while obscurity rests like
a cloud over the origin and primeval! history of nearly all
nations, it is natural to desire to know as much as possible
of our ancestry. What labor and expense have been de-
voted to this subject in unraveling the mysteries of African,
Egyptian, Grecian, and Roman antiquities! The more
cultured a people become, the more interest they take in
their early history. A thoroughly barbarous people are
utterly indifferent to such topics. May not such thoughts
suggest sufficient apology for some remarks upon the history
of the great tribes contiguous to my circuit?

“The Chickasaws and Choctaws were evidently of the
same stock—their similarity in language, personal appear-
ance, customs, and traditions clearly demonstrating this fact.
They, like most of the red race in the United States, claim
to have migrated from the North-west; and while other
tribes, who hold themselves to be of North-western origin,
affirm that their ancestors continued to travel eastward to
the Atlantic slope, these tribes believe their fathers, after
crossing the Mississippi River, turned south-west and settled
164 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

where authentic history found them several centuries ago.
The Cherokees and Muscogees, or Creeks, have substantially
the same tradition. Naturalists say they belong to the
great ‘Appalachian’ family of Indians. The Appalachian,
‘the long or endless mountain, was the name given by De
Soto and early Spanish authorities to the great range of
mountains, including its plateaus and parallel ridges, which,
leaving Canada, passed through Vermont, New York, Penn-
sylvania, and on southerly, diverging from the Atlantic
coast-line, and subsiding in Georgia and Alabama, and
abounding (throughout its whole extent generally) in coal,
iron, and other minerals. The south-western extremity of
this range reaches into North Mississippi, separating the
tributaries of the Mississippi from those that fall into the
Bay of Mobile. The English called it the Alleghany range,
but De Soto and the Spanish discoverers, the Appalachian.
Other names have been given to certain parts of it, as
‘Blue Ridge,’ ‘Cumberland,’ etc., but Appalachian was
probably its earliest name for the whole range. Geology
indicates that the larger part of it was of earlier date than
the Andes or Alps. Over a great part of this territory, es-
pecially the southern, the mysterious old Natchez race, the
Cherokees, Creeks, and their associate tribes, were found
when the whole race invaded that region, and hence the
sountry gave the name to its inhabitants. How the tribes
change their locations is illustrated by the Delawares, Shaw-
nees, and others, once residing on the Atlantic slope, but now
in Kansas and the North-west; and to what extent the tribes
have mixed is indicated by the facts that Tecumseh’s mother
was a Creek, while he and his brother—the Prophet—were
Skawnees, and were found on the borders of Canada in the
war of 1812. The Choctaws and Chickasaws were less mi-
gratory in disposition than usual with the other tribes; for
while it is said they descended from two brothers, and have
BISHOP OF THE M. E, CHURCH, SOUTH. 165

 

always lived close together, they have retained their sepa-
rate tribal and political distinctions to a remarkable degree.
Even the fierce savage wars which on several occasions have
burst forth between them have ceased as suddenly as they
began. About equal in population, in intellectual culture,
and in industrial improvements, they have respected each oth-
er’s rights as good neighbors and true friends; and when it
has been otherwise, the fault has been in the whites. Havy-
ing visited them while living here, and repeatedly in their
new homes west of the Mississippi, I gladly testify that this
applies to them now. ‘
“The first authentic account we have of these two great
tribes is tneir invasion by Fernando De Soto. This very
remarkable man had distinguished himself asa Spanish cav-
alier under Pizarro, in the conquest of Peru, about the time
of Luther’s appearance, in obedience to the command of
Charles V., before the ‘Diet of Worms.’ Having returned
to Spain loaded with the spoils of that infamous war, he
asked and obtained the royal consent to organize an army
and a fleet to return to America as commander-in-chief, and
invade and attach to the Kingdom of Spain the far-famed
Florida. Having married the beautiful Bobadilla, daughter
of a royal favorite, and collected a large force of the most
gallant spirits in Spain, he set sail, with the knights and
some of their wives, to rendezvous at the Island of Cuba.
There he left the ladies and proceeded in full force to Tampa
Bay where he landed, May 30, 1539. This was the largest
and most formidable army that had ever invaded the con-
tinent. From the time he burned his transports, and thus
cut off all means of returning to Spain, his conduct admits
of no explanation but that he was seeking to find Ponce de
Leon’s imaginary Fountain of Health, or the fabulous El
Dorado gold and diamond mines. Hence he spent some time
in exploring Florida; thence into Georgia; thence, turning
166 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

south-west, he struck the Alabama River, and had a terrible
battle with the Indian fort situated on the river and under
the noted chief Tuscaloosa. The Spaniards call it Mau-
villa; it is described as being on the north bank of the Ala-
bama River, and about twenty-five miles above its junction
with the Tombigbee. Passing up the latter, he is said to
have crossed the Black Warrior near where Erie now stands,
after a fierce battle of two days with the Choctaws. Con-
tinuing his course, Picket and others say, De Soto crossed the
Bigbee—or Little Tombigbee—near Waverly, in Lowndes
county, Miss., not far below the mouth of the Buttahatchie,
and took the buffalo trail up the prairie region. The
Tibbee, being the line between the Choctaws and Chick-
asaws, enters the Bigbee just below where he crossed it; his
way henceforth was among the latter tribe, and not far
from the present Mobile and Ohio railroad. This level and
beautiful prairie, running north for forty miles along a well-
beaten buffalo trail, was the best possible way for his artil-
lery and stock; and upon reaching the neighborhood of the
Chickasaw ‘Council House, not far from the Pontotoc
ridge, he went into winter-quarters. The place of encamp-
ment was fertile, near the largest village in the Nation, and
in the most populous part—abounding in maize and other
valuable products. The Spaniards were not likely to fore-
go the use of these advantages, and the Indians feared to
resent it.”
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 167

 

CHAPTER XXIX.

“Notes oF Lire” ContinuED—THE “VEXED QUESTION”—PRE-
SIDING ELDER CoNTROVERSY—-CHANGE OF CONFERENCE
Lines—SEcTARIANISM—DivorceE—Drivinine Rop—ReE ticiovus
ConTROVERSY—J AMES W. Fariss.

HE influence of the, political agitation which ended in

the “Missouri Compromise” was felt in the religious
assemblies of the people. The intensity of conviction
which causes good men to make war against a supposed
evil sometimes gains its ends at the cost of Christian char-
ity. The price is too much to pay for any human suc-
cess. One instance of peace and quiet obtained by unwor-
thy means is valuable as an indication of the resources of
Divine Providence in the affairs of men:

“This Conference, like that immediately preceding it, was
held in Nashville, Tennessee, and began about October 1,
1819. Nor did it differ materially in its tone and temper
from it. Ifit did it was in its intensity of opposition to the
bestowment of orders and offices upon slave-holders, and
those suspected of sympathizing with them. To such a de-
gree was this carried that, however worthy and well quali-
fied in other respects for admission on trial or for ordination
as local or traveling preachers a candidate might be, he was
sure to be rejected if connected with the great evil. It
mattered not though the State laws forbade it, or any thing
else rendered it improper or impracticable. The question
was not whether slavery was an evil, but how to remedy it.
Both admitted that it was a social and political evil, and in
many cases a moral evil, but the South generally claimed
168 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

that it was not evil per se, but an evil inherited—the only
proper remedy for it being a gradual emancipation under
the sanction of legislation, after due notice and preparation.
So stringently was the opinion of the ultraists carried out
by the majority at this session that a large and able minor-
ity felt constrained to sign a protest against their action and
forward it to the General Conference, to meet the next year.
They were T. L. Douglass, W. McMahon, Lewis Garrett,
T. D. Porter, Barnabas McHenry, Wm. Stribling, John
Johnson, Thos. Stringfield, Henry B. Bascom, Benjamin
Edge, and others. Of course none of them were elected to
the General Conference. One thing that served to indicate
the unfortunate partisan feeling which pervaded the whole
action of the majority in this affair was that under their
influence at the General Conference, May, 1820, the Ten-
nessee Conference was divided so as to bring the Kentucky
line to the Cumberland River at Nashville, and just below
there across the river, and thence west, thus throwing sev-
eral circuits and a large territory out of its proper relation.
By this process the new Conference was larger and far more
-compact and desirable than the other, leaving the old Ten-
nessee Conference a long, narrow strip, reaching from the
Alleghany Mountains to the Mississippi River, with only
four small districts; two of these lay east of the Cumber-
land Mountain. Of course all the delegates, except one or
two who got presiding elderships, fell into the new Confer-
ence. This kind of ecclesiastical gerrymandering appeared
wrong to some of us, and I set myself against it henceforth.
The result, however, was, we had peace afterward.”

The agitation which began with James O’Kelly, as far
back as 1790 or 1791, continued, with disastrous results in
many sections of the country, for more than thirty years.
At first, Mr. O’Kelly desired that the preacher appointed
by a Bishop might have an appeal to the Annual Confer.
BISHOP OF THE M. F. CHURCH, SOUTH. 169

 

ence, whose decision should be final. Failing to overthrow
Methodist episcopacy by this measure, the next proposition
was a very plausible one, but not less revolutionary in its
character. As the Bishops could not know the wants and
necessities of every station or circuit, and the capacities and
abilities of the preachers must be, in a large measure, un-
known to the responsible power appointing the pastors of
the flock, it was proposed to make the presiding elder an
elective officer. The Bishop naming two or more members
of the body, the Conference decided by vote which of
these should be a member of the “ Bishop’s Council.” This
measure seemed harmless to many, but the keen eye of
Joshua Soule saw in it the entering wedge for the destruc-
tion of the whole economy of Methodism. In this view of
the subject Bishop McKendree concurred, and the firm,
heroic conduct of these two men preserved the constitution
of the Church.

“The third delegated General Conference of our Church
began May 1, 1820, in Baltimore, Maryland, and was dis-
tinguished by several important events. Robert R. Roberts
and Enoch George had been elected and consecrated Bish-
ops at the previous General Conference in 1816, as William
McKendree had been at the first, held in John Street, New
York, in 1812.

“The decease of Bishop Asbury, in 1816, and the infirm
health of Bishop McKendree, had devolved too much labor
upon the Bishops, and it was determined to elect another.
Joshua Soule was duly announced as elected, and the time
and place of consecration were agreed upon. Inthe mean-
time the Conference had adopted a series of resolutions
making the presiding elders elective, and constituting them,
by law, a council, who, conjointly with the Bishop presid-
ing in the Annual Conference, should station the preach-
ers. After mature deliberation and consultation, the senior
170 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

Bishop, McKendree, concluded that the delegated General
Conference exceeded its authority in conferring the power
of selecting the presiding elders, with the right of fixing
the appointments, and thus to this extent controlling the
action and superseding the power of the episcopacy, who
alone are responsible for the administration of the disci-
pline. Furthermore, that such interference with the right-
ful authority of the Bishops was an infringement of the con-
atitution of the Church, as set forth in the restrictions im-
posed by the convention on the powers and privileges of
the delegated General Conference in its organization in
1808.

“From the organization of the Church there had been
some in every session of the General Conference in favor of
restraining or abolishing the power of the Bishops in sta-
tioning the preachers and choosing the presiding elders;
but there had always been a decided majority against them.
In 1812 this majority had been much smaller. In 1820,
after considerable discussion, the subject was referred to a
committee of three from each side to confer with the Bish-
ops, and report. At the first meeting of the Bishops and
committee they failed to agree. At the next meeting a
similar result was likely to occur, but upon verbal expla-
nations as to the import of the ‘compromise’ measures
proposed, and from a great anxiety for peace, a plan was
presented and accepted to quiet all parties.

“For reasons already stated, and others strongly set forth
by the senior Bishop and the Bishop elect, the latter declined
to be ordained. Several members of the committee, upon
more careful examination of the report, withdrew their sig-
natures, and the resolutions were suspended until the next
quadrennial session. Of course these resolutions came up.
in 1824, when they were indefinitely suspended. In 1828
the kindred question of lay representation received its
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 171

 

quietus by adopting the report of Dr. J. Emory, chairman
of the committee on that subject. Thus the two principal
elements of trouble were apparently, and I trust really
and forever, consigned to repose, except in such a constitu-
tional and peaceable way as the interest of the whole Church
may require modification.”

Errors in legislation ought always to be corrected by the
authority that committed the errors. Resistance to law, how-
ever unjust the law may be, need not be resorted to, when
good men, and Christian men, hold the reins of government.
An illustration of the prevalence of reason over passion is
furnished in the following paragraph:

“It was scarcely possible for the delegation from the
Tennessee Conference to the General Conference of 1820 to
escape the suspicion of unfairness in the division of the work
between the Tennessee and Kentucky Conferences, since all
the prominent men elected belonged to one party, and fell
into pretty much the same region. It is a good old saying
that no man is a fair judge in his own case. Our personal
interests warp our judgment. It was thought to be so in
this instance. A list of the appointments and a map of the
country show this, as to this point. Yet good men and
true did it. The dividing line—an ecclesiastical isothermal
one—while it left Nashville, with a few miles above and be-
low, in the Tennessee Conference, scooped down south of the
Cumberland River on both sides of Nashville, leaving the
old Conference, as it was called, a ‘shoe-string affair. So
strong and general was the opinion that this was unfair
that the next session—1824— corrected it at once.”

In the early days there were not a few “men of high de-
gree” who affected a sublime contempt for Methodism and
Methodist preachers. An amusing instance of this unseemly
pride is related by the Bishop:

“My appointment for 1820-21 was to Murfreesboro and
172 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

Shelbyville, two flourishing towns about thirty miles apart,
and seats of justice for two of the most populous and pro-
ductive counties of the State. Each had a population of
about two thousand, with large public buildings, but in
neither was there any Methodist meeting-house. In each
there was a Presbyterian Church, and regular preaching by
the same pastor, who lived in Murfreesboro, and served them
alternately. He was a venerable minister, a witty, incisive
character, whose infiuence was felt by his people and the
community. His Calvinism was of the Hopkinsian type.
He regarded himself as liberal toward other denominations,
but had enjoyed a monopoly of clerical honors and perqui-
sites in that community so long that he felt almost instinct-
ively that any other pastor there was an intrusion. It was
a long time after I had begun my work before he professed
to have heard of me. I held service of nights in a large
unoccupied old house, and preached in the court-house on
Sunday. A great revival had occurred during the summer
before I arrived, and hundreds had professed conversion at
Windrow’s and other camp-meetings. Many joined our
Church, and the excitement continued at our meetings in
the towns under my pastoral charge. The number and the
class of attendants and professors were such that it would
not do to ignore the work, or the ‘Methodist circuit-rider,’
any longer. A very formal visit was paid me—a short, pat-
ronizing talk was delivered, with suggestions as to a change
of the time of holding my meetings. He had for several
years past discontinued night services, except on special oc-
casions—doubted if a conflict of appointments at eleven
o’clock on Sunday was best. That had been his hour so long
it could not be changed. Of course upon sacramental occa-
sions land my members would attend, although he was never
seen in our meetings. Union is beautiful. Was in favor of
revivals, but rarely failed to ridicule them, unless some of
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 173

 

his elders, whose children had lately joined the Methodists,
were present. Young as I was, I was not so green as he
thought. He was a good man, but intensely sectarian.”

One of those questions which concern the very existence
of society receives the following notice at the hands of the
Bishop:

“Murfreesboro was then the seat of the Legislature, and
the court-house, which was my place for preaching, was also
the place where the Legislature held its sessions. Both the
Senate and the House invited me to act as chaplain, and I
therefore continued to use it as a church during the whole
time. It was during one of these years that a very large
number of petitions for divorce was presented. Among the
rest, and at the heading of the list, was one from the ex-
Governor of the State—Mims, I believe. The Speaker of
the House, Sterling Brewer, was a prominent Methodist—a
number of the members of both houses had profess re-
ligion during a revival at that session, Felix Grundy among
them. The Assembly conscientiously hesitated to take up
the question of divorce, and the Speaker addressed me, by
request of the body, to preach expressly upon the subject,
and I could not refuse to do so. Two or three days before
the time for preaching upon the subject came, the reverend
and venerable Valentine Cook, of Kentucky, arrived in the
town, and at my solicitation, and the concurrence of the
Assembly, became my substitute. Never did that singularly
powerful preacher appear to greater advantage. Taking
the New Testament stand-point, and explaining it clearly
and fully, he viewed the question in its various bearings,
and closed with an earnest protest against all divorces out-
side of the sanction of the great Lawgiver. The whole
batch of petitions was ‘non-concurred in, and I think that
in Tennessee that question has been ever since relegated to
the courts. The result has been, each case has been tried
174 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

upon its merits, a few divorces granted, and a higher esti-
mate stamped upon the public mind of the sanctity of the
marriage contract, while the time and money of the State
have been saved for better purposes.”

Always and everywhere a student of natural science,
Bishop Paine in his early manhood had opportunities for
contrasting the revelations of true science with the preten-
sions and delusions of charlatans. About the truth of the
“divining rod” as a revealer of mineral deposits, he pro-
nounces a definite opinion, and relates an incident which
carries its own moral: i

“Having just now mentioned two names, Valentine Cook
and Sterling Brewer, an incident which occurred five years
later is vividly recalled in unrolling that wonderful volume
called Memory. I was then the presiding elder of the Nash-
ville District, and the guest, for a day, of my friend Brewer.
He was no longer ‘the Speaker’ of the House—had been a
rich man, having a large and valuable farm, with many
slaves, several valuable houses, lots, etc, in towns, and
withal a liberal and consistent Church-member. No man in
Dickson county was more respected. His wife and family
were worthy such a head. In the midst of his prosperous
and happy surroundings a stranger obtruded, and after gain-
ing the confidence of his host, uncovered his pretensions as
a mineralogist, and avowed his ability to find metals and
salt-water by the ‘divining rod.’ Every day he might be
found slowly and silently walking through the forests in the
vicinity of Brewer’s house. My friend was noted for his
sound, practical sense—a man of affairs, Speaker in the
Legislature twenty years, and heretofore successful in all he
had undertaken—apparently the last man to be the victim
of superstition or imposture. I believe the element of su-
perstition is, to some degree, in every man. It was in
Brewer. Salt developed it. Gradually his strange visitor,
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 175

 

by hints and winks, revealed the secret that there was a
mint of wealth on his land in salt-water streams, which con-
verged and made a big stream on the land of Brewer. Se-
crecy was enjoined, and a promise to find it shortly after a
visit to his family was given. With perhaps a small ad-
vance of money to pay traveling expenses and procure some
necessary utensils, etc., Brewer followed his friend as he took
the meandering streams over hills and valleys, found the
point where they met, and where it was declared the largest
amount of salt-water could be found that was ever known in
the South-west. Brewer marked the track of these mysteri-
ous streams, and kept the secret forsome time. He was not
yet converted. He got an old settler, who had figured on
that line years ago, to walk over his land; without knowing
it, this man confirmed the statement of the first one. This
shook the solid frame-work of Brewer’s mind. Salt was in
great demand. None to be had this side of West Virginia;
if by a reasonable outlay he could settle the question, why
not try it? Just then he learned that Valentine Cook, Pres-
ident of the Methodist College in Kentucky, under the au-
spices of Asbury—distinguished for learning, piety, and use-
fulness—was an expert in chemistry, electricity, and kindred
subjects, and believed in the ‘divining rod.’ He was invited
to visit Brewer and give hisopinion. He came, and, ignorant
of what the others had done, struck and followed totheir junc-
tion the streams, and said he believed that at that placo
there was mineral-water—at what depth and to what amount
it might be, he could not say; he believed there was salt
there. Brewer had begun to. dig; he soon struck a hard
crystalline limestone bed, and after three years’ boring— ~
reaching several hundred feet—his auger broke; his farm
had gone to waste, his stores and other real estate had been
mortgaged, his slaves sold, and in a few years I buried him
from a humble rented house in Nashville. A Christian
176 LIFE UF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

gentleman to the last—his memory honored, his surviving
family respected, and his large estate bankrupt, or buried in
the deep hole the ‘divining rod’ had dug. Standing with
him at the fatal place, I learned these facts from him; and
when I asked him if in those seven years of ceaseless toil
and anxiety he had come across any mineral-water of any
kind, he replied: ‘We thought we found a brackish taste
once, after having bored more than three hundred feet of
solid rock—the whole work was in the same hardest crys-
tallized limestone. We were every day hoping to find salt,
and never did; desperation followed this fascination, when
the auger broke near the bottom at the depth of about one
thousand feet, and all my means were exhausted.’ What a
pity it seems that some intelligent mineralogist or geologist
did not tell him that, although salt is more widely distrib-
uted than any other mineral, because it is the only mineral
universally needed by animals of the highest order, yet its
true geological position is not in such a locality. In ten
minutes he could have learned at Vanderbilt that it was use-
less to expend his life and fortune in the effort.

“For hundreds of years the agents and the principles in-
volved in the ‘divining rod’ have attracted attention; the
wise and educated, as well as the simple and superstitious,
have been excited about it. The phenomena claimed for it
have been attributed to electricity and magnetism, or as
wholly imaginary self-deception, while others hold it all to
be a bald imposture. Nobody has sought to dignify it by
claiming it as a science. It is not sufficiently sustained by
facts. Like clairvoyance and mesmerism, but not so strong-
ly supported; feeble as is their support. there may be some-
thing in it, but who knows how much, or what there is of
importance to our race? The key to unlock many of nat-
ure’s secrets has not yet been discovered.”

Writing in the retirement of his own delightful home,
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 177

 

and recalling, at the age of eighty-one, the scenes and inci-
dents of his early career, Bishop Paine records his views
upon the subject of religious controversy:

“ Controversy—religious controversy especially—is gener-
ally unpopular at present, and whoever engages in it is like-
ly to be discounted. The world calls it quarreling, and
nost members of the Church prefer peace upon any terms
to public discussion upon doctrinal points. Indeed, many
who belong to the various denominations attach very little
importance to creeds. And while'the temper which prompts
this is toa great extent highly commendable, it is to be feared
that the underlying feeling is too often ignorance or indif-
ference. The most intelligent and earnest minds hold the
truth in the highest estimation, and are foremost in its de-
fense. Biblical truths are of the highest importance, because
they reveal the purpose of our existence and the method of
attaining it. To apprehend the one and follow the other is
therefore preéminently our first duty. Too many, like Pi-
late, ask in a querulous spirit, ‘What is truth?’ and like
him, without waiting or wishing for an answer, immediately
turn round to resume the work of detraction. But while
we advocate both the right and duty to discuss publicly the
fundamental doctrines and institutes of Christianity, we as
decisively oppose all personalities, bitterness, and sectarian-
ism as unbecoming the pulpit and the cause. The fact that
the speaker has a monopoly, and cannot be replied to with-
out an apparent discourtesy, should restrain him. When-
ever any thing but truth becomes the object, the pulpit is
perverted. The discussion may be earnest, but it must be
respectful. A coarse anecdote, a rude personality, or a
ringing laugh do not pass for logic or scripture in this _
court. While we gladly recognize and appreciate the fact
that Methodism owes its origin and its early triumphs not
to its formularies as to its polity or its creed, but to its

12
178 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

spiritual elements, yet if it had not been so ably defined
and defended by Wesley, Fletcher, and others, asa consist-
ent and scriptural analysis of Bible doctrines, it would not
have won its way so rapidly, and harmonized and crystal-
lized its disciples into one great homogeneous body. What
was urged by the friends of the great Duke of Marlborough,
in pleading that his life be spared, ‘He had fought a hun-
dred pitched battles for England, and not one against her,’
may be repeated for Wesley and his associates in contend-
ing for ‘religion pure and undefiled.” Throughout his long
life he fought for God and truth. The weapons of his war-
fare were not carnal. He held the truth as it is in Jesus,
and gathered his implements from the sacred armory. It
was easier to refute his logic than to ruffle his temper.
Either was rarely done, although both were often attempt-
ed. Christian polemics finds its brightest exemplars in the
writings of Wesley and Fletcher. The latter combined the
genius of Pascal and Junius, but surpassed the former in
suavity and the latter in ingenuous incisiveness. The adop-
tion of their writings as text-books in the course of study by
our fathers provided a literature scarcely less important than
the hymnology in which scriptural doctrines were crystal-
lized into sacred song by the poetic genius of the Wesleys.
As occasion required, others who were ‘set for the defense
of the gospel’ have come to confront teachers of erroneous
and strange doctrines.

“Many years ago, while engaged in making appointments,
I found my advisers hesitating to nominate a preacher for a
certain populous community, and after awhile asked the rea-
son. The reply was that it was a people so generally and
decidedly under the influence of another doctrinal belief
that it had been thought best to attempt but little there for
awhile, and that it would be a pity to send them a very
promising young minister—it looked like sacrificing too
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 179

 

much. This course had been pursued several years. To
this view I demurred, and asked my presiding elders how
that people were getting on, morally and religiously. ‘Very
badly—from bad to worse—no signs of improvement.’ Do
you really believe their teachers are in serious error, and
that Methodist teachings are right and are needed there,
and that you have among you preachers who are fully com-
petent, or can make themselves competent, to defend our
doctrines ana customs against all opponents? They an-
swered affirmatively. I then made an appointment, and
enjoined it upon them to select their best young men, and
to induce them to prepare for the defense, and in the spirit
of love to enter the lists whenever challenged. I have
learned that they have done so, and a decided change of the
situation has occurred. In the early years of my acquaint-
ance with Methodism, her creed was bitterly opposed and
her ministers derided. Every other denomination seemed
united in opposing it, however disagreeing among them-
selves. Calvinism, in some form or other, was dominant,
and Methodism was the target at which they all pointed
their artillery.

“A controlling influence was persistently sought over the
public literary institutions of the country; and they had
almost a monopoly of them. Hence almost all the men
who attained eminence in political and professional circles
were disinclined toward our Church, and so strong and gen-
eral was this influence that our children were often ashamed
of being known as of Methodist parentage, and in many

cases were alienated for life from our Church. <A sense of
duty, therefore, impelled our preachers to begin the defense
of our doctrines and polity from the pulpit and press, and
by patronizing schools and colleges of our own. By our
love for our children, our regard for truth, and the highest
and holiest claims of piety and philanthropy, we were con-
180 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

strained to enter upon the struggle, and to continue it in every
fairand Christian way. In vain have the schools founded and
sustained by the liberality of our members and friends been
stigmatized as sectarian in contradistinction to those created
and supported by county and State taxation; intelligent and
impartial men cannot appreciate the logic by which the name
’ of a thing changes its character, nor how it comes to pass
that a Methodist who is taxed to support a public school
where Calvinistic influence dominates may not also pay
voluntarily for one where no such adverse influence exists,
without being branded as sectarian. Doubtless competent
and faithful teachers do exert influence over their pupils,
and while no unfair means of proselytism are used it is not
seriously objectionable—it is the natural result of the rela-
tion of the parties, and the teacher’s merits are the measure
of his controlling power.”

A life-like picture of one of the early heroes of Method-
ism is given by the Bishop in the following extract from
the “ Notes of Life:”

“James W. Fariss was a notable character, with whom I
formed an acquaintance this year. He belonged to a large
family of sturdy citizens, most of whom were Methodists,
residing near Winchester, Tenn. He was then about thirty
years old, was a farmer, had been lately licensed as a local
preacher, and had a wife with several children. His physique
was striking—six feet high, broad-chested, an athlete in form
and prowess, with a long aquiline nose, Grecian profile, and
large gray, dreamy eyes. He was retiring and reticent, and
seemed to be meditative and sad. Nature had made him of
her finest mold, and stamped him with the signet for a poet
and an orator. He was born such, but sadly marred in his
making up. Under other circumstances he might have been
a Burns or a Goldsmith. He could not help being an ora-
tor. Before he fairly grew to manhood, and before his con-
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 181

 

version, he was devoted to fun and frolic, to the violin and
dancing. He was the leader on all such occasions. But a
change came over the spirit of his dreams. While I never
heard it reported that he indulged in low and vulgar hab-
its—tfrom all which his sincere love for his pious wife and
little children saved him—yet residing near a town whero
his genial social qualities and his musical talents, ready wit, -
and pleasant manners rendered his presence desirable on all
festive occasions, his associates sadly missed his companion-
ship; insomuch that when he awoke from the delirium of
carnal amusements, he at once resolved to rid himself of
all the allurements of his surroundings. With the simple
statement to his wife that he was, as he feared, a lost man,
he took a Bible and left home. In a recess or cave of the
mountain it is said he hid himself, and there in solitude, like
Jacob, he wrestled with God. There he thought, read his
Bible, wept over his sins, and again and again poured out
his soul in importunate prayer, having resolved not to desist
or return until the great question was settled. How long
he staid I know not; I think several days. His family and
friends became alarmed, and searched for him in vain. A
report got out that he had become insane. His old com-
panions could not understand it otherwise. No doubt the
retirement of Jacob on the memorable night of his conver-
sion seemed unnatural and unaccountable to his family and
attendants; but he knew what he was doing, and it was the
crisis in his history, and the wisest act of his eventful life.
Like Jacob, he struggled with ‘the angel’ until he tri-
umphed, and could say, ‘I know thee, Saviour, whom thou
art;’ and then went down the mountain to spend the re-
mainder of his life in telling to others the wonders of re-
deeming love. His conversion produced a profound sensa-
tion throughout the country, and his deportment, at once
so humble, zealous, and consistent, gave great force to hir
182 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

efforts to do good. Soon after this great change he joined
the Church, and in due time was licensed to preach. Ar-
ranging his temporal interests, he entered the traveling con-
nection, and after many years of toil and sacrifice, died in
the Western District of Tennessee, lamented and loved by
thousands.

“T have said he was a natural orator, with a meditative
and rather melancholy cast of mind, and a deeply devoted
Christian. There were days when he seemed absorbed and
disinclined to mix in society. He would perform his duties
and retire, or remain silent. He prayed much in secret. He
was not rude or unapproachable; in his family always gen-
tle and forbearing. To guile, envy, and malevolence he was
astranger. He loved God and all men. In his preaching
he was irregular, sometimes commonplace, generally enter-
taining and attractive, and occasionally almost resistless.
He had all the qualities and endowments of a great orator,
except those resulting from mental culture. His fancy was
fine; his imagination of the highest order; his illustrations
were strikingly natural and apt; his voice, like his touches
on his favorite violin, of which he was once confessedly a
thorough master, was of great compass, gliding now sweetly
and softly, the perfection of musical tones, and, as he warmed
in his theme, gradually swelling; and if it involved the great
issues of ‘eternal judgment,’ his soul glowed, his features
assumed an expression of awe and earnestness, his form
rose, and his voice broke upon his audience like the thun-
ders of Sinai over the trembling, awe-stricken hosts of Is-
rael, Then he was terrible. An instance of this, which
will never be forgotten by any one of the thousands pres-
ent, was his sermon at Mountain Spring Camp-ground, North
Alabama, in 1829. His text was ‘the barren fig-tree.’
The concourse was immense, made up mainly of a wealthy,
intelligent, and fashionable people. They were hospitable
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 183

 

and well-behaved, but the best efforts of the most gifted
preachers had failed. The praying and faithful few were
discouraged and despondent, when Sunday brought out a
great multitude. Fariss was appointed to preach, and hav-
ing spent the morning in a retired spot in the forest in soli-
tude with God, he entered the stand at the minute, and be-
gan theservices. Slowly at first the scattered groups began
to assemble. The sweet song and the short, fervent prayer
settled and solemnized them, and the sermon began. It is
useless to attempt a description of the sermon. Suffice it to
say that as he proceeded the interest and emotions of the
hearers, and the magnetic power of the preacher filled with
the Holy Ghost, held the lately seething and restless crowd
as if spell-bound in soul and body, increasing in intensity
every minute, until he came to the sentence denounced upon
the fruitless tree; then summoning all his resources, and
unconsciously personating the avenger, he began to ‘cut
down.’ Stroke after stroke fell, and still the glittering
blade rose and fell, until all classes of sinners and barren
professors were ruthlessly hewn down and hurled into the
abysmal depths of unquenchable burning. There was no
more preaching that day or the ensuing night—no chance
for it nor need of it. Hundreds rushed to the altar; many
could not get there, and therefore fell on their knees. The
tents, the encampment, and surrounding forest were full of
groups of penitents, and all night long the sounds of prayer
and praise were mingled. Over two hundred were num-
bered as converts, and as many went away to change their
lives, and try to bear fruit unto eternal life.

“Let it not be supposed that the ‘terrors of the Lord’
were his favorite themes, or topics, in which his genius was
chiefly developed. Divine love, as evinced in creation,
providence, and especially in redemption, was the subject
in which he seemed to revel as a congenial element. Among
184 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

the most vivid pictures photographed on the tablet of a
memory crowded by the incidents of a long life is that of a
short sermon I heard from him at La Grange College, Ala-
bama, about 1831, while he was in charge of the circuit.
It was upon Sunday—one of the coldest days of a winter
memorable as the coldest and longest experienced in this
country, the thermometer falling to ten degrees below zero
on the northern side of my residence on College Hill. At
the signal for preaching the congregation assembled in a
large, rather dilapidated room upon the campus—the chapel
then not finished. The Faculty, students, citizens of the vil-
lage, and several planters from the beautiful valley, filled
the house, while a bright fire crackled in the wide, old-
fashioned fire-place. The earth had been frozen for a week
or two, and a fresh snow and sleet storm had been followed
by a cloudless morning, with a fierce north wind, which
seemed to pierce to the bones and marrow of the shivering
audience. Not a particle of an icicle melted under the rays
of the midday sun. We crowded into the well-ventilated old
room, and nobody objected to being wedged a little, for Far-
iss was to preach—and we only hoped the talk would be
a short one; if not short, it might be one of his sweet talks.
And so it was—short, sweet; and much more, it was spark-
ling, rich, and aglow with piety. After quoting a verse or
two of one of David’s inimitable outbursts of mingled ado-
ration and praise, which always sound to me like the cho-
ral symphonies of universal created being to the unveiling
developments of the mysteries of God’s providence aad
grace, he repeated it: ‘God is good—good in all he does, in
ail he allows, and in all he does not.’ Descanting awhil:
upon his theme as it is seen in creation and in providence,
he seized the occasion to illustrate it: ‘It is cold—very cold
—-and so it has been for many days. A bright sun to-day
fails to thaw the frozen earth. But we have the sun, and
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 18f

 

are sure he will stay, and triumph at last.’ Then began
one of those bright, poetic conceptions which, considering
his education, seemed wonderful. It was impromptu—he
had perhaps never heard of Milton, Montgomery, or Byron.
‘But suppose the sun should fail to rise to-morrow.’ Then
turning to the planters, in substance he said: ‘Some of you
are used to getting up before day-break now—you want to
be ready to go to work as soon as you can. You get rest-
less, disturb your wife and children, and make your negroes
get up, feed the stock, and prepare for work. The night is
too long—you are greedy of big crops and of money. Sup-
pose the sun does not respond to your old clock on the man-
tel and your almanac-time. You scold at the meddling of
some one with the clock. All deny it. Another hour is
struck, another, and another, until it is evident the great
clock-work of the world is out of order.’ Then he described
the consternation and universal horror pervading and in-
creasing as months of darkness and despair succeeded, until
the snow filled the valleys, and the streams were locked to
their fountain-head with frost; with families isolated, food
and fuel exhausted, death everywhere, and the wail of the
few helpless and hopeless survivors borne over the lately
crowded cities; the marts of commerce and the abodes of
wealth now voiceless and dark as the tomb. After the
lapse of a year, suddenly a faint blush is seen in the eastern
horizon, and rising and spreading, finally brightens into
day, and every living eye sees once more the risen king
of day. Then he pictured the scene, the shouts, the rapt-
urous joy, the praise to God from every heart aud lip—to
the Father of mercies. There was no outburst at the close,
but a subdued and deeply impressive sensation of gratitude
which tended to make the sacrifice of self and the perform-
ance of unpleasant duties more endurable ever since. A
firm belief in God’s goodness, in his works and ways, has
186 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

been and is a source of the strongest, purest, and sweetest
comforts of my life. That short sermon served to give spe-
cial definiteness and force to this truth. This singularly
good and great man died prematurely, leaving a large and
helpless family. He resided somewhere near the college.
We were glad to give his children what educational advan-
tages we could. I know nothing of them of late years. I
am not writing compliments—I despise shams and preten-
sions—but James W. Fariss, with a few others, will ever
stand in the picture-gallery of my memory like a column
of crystal.”
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 187

 

CHAPTER XXX.

“Notes oF Lire” ContINUED—MARRIAGE OF MINIsTERS—AD-
MINISTRATION OF DISCIPLINE— POPULAR AMUSEMENTS—FINAN-
CIAL STRAITS.

ANY men have been seriously hindered, and some have

been ruined, by indiscreet marriages in the early years

of their ministry. There is much of wisdom and wholesome
instruction in these words:

“In the course of many years I have known several in-
stances where it looked as if it would have been better for
both if they had never been born. For instance, No. 1
was a promising young man—admitted on trial in
Conference; was of a poor but honest family; education
little; form and personal appearance faultless; fluent;
memory remarkable; stock in trade, a few flashy sermons
thoroughly memorized and some scrap-book poetry, a lit-
tle theology; voice and address agreeable; amiable and re-
ligious. Traveled a backwoods circuit his first year, where
he met the daughter of a large land-owner lately from a
distant boarding-school. She was young, full of fancy and
romance, and was struck by his superiority to the rustics
about there. Her father, devoted to his large business af-
fairs, nominally a Methodist, practically a thorough world-
ling; her mother an invalid; neither had paid much over-
sight to her training, intellectual or moral, devolving it all
upon her instructors in distant fashionable boarding-schools.
She was rich; her bills, however extravagant, were paid
without a murmur; and as she could have her own way or
go elsewhere, and the opsequious teacher could not afford to

 
188 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

lose such a prize, her education was utterly asham. Leay-
ing school in a whim, she found her father had removed
from the old homestead to the distant West, and was living
in temporary log-cabins in the midst of his large land es-
tate. Here the young preacher found her, and impressed
her as a handsome young man. The attraction was mutual.
Before the year closed it was agreed to end the romance
by getting married without the knowledge of her parents.
It was done, and the proud father was startled in the midst
of his cares by the news of their marriage, and the bedrid-
den mother learned that her young and heedless daughter
had eloped with the young preacher. The father, an ex-
member of Congress—when to be one was an honor—
though greatly surprised and mortified, because he knew
what a mistake they had made, sent for them, gave them
a home and some land not far away; and without re
proaching the young husband told him to go to work or
otherwise as he pleased: they had consulted no one, and
assumed their ability to manage for themselves; he hoped
they would succeed. The poetry of the affair soon wore off.
Of course he was ‘discontinued’ as a preacher—his pros-
pective usefulness ruined, too late he realized his loss of the
respect of his old friends, and his unfitness for association
with the family into which he had intruded, and had dragged
duwn the young girl to a position of mortified pride. He
ceased to study—no one cared to hear him repeat his few
memorized sermons; he knew little else, and he faded away
like a dissolving scene, and its shadow rested upon all con-
cerned, and charity drops a veil over the end.

“No. 2 was a very different young preacher; was of a
wealthy, highly reputable family; his education much
albove ordinary; his preaching abilities fine; was favored
in his appointments, popular, and promising great useful-
ness. Unfortunately, had from the first a special fondness
BISHOP OF THE M. E. OHURCH, SOUTH. 189

 

for the company of young ladies—would seek it; ride with
them to his appointments; wait on them, and laugh and
joke with them to the church-door, and made himself a
beau of a preacher. Soon got entangled in love meshes—
friends got him out; but was soon again involved. In a
year or two was married to a town belle; received from her
father a valuable legacy in a farm. She ridiculed the itin-
erancy; a country life too dull; sold the farm, bought in
town, and with inexperienced partners began merchandis-
ing; located to get out of debt. Located, got deeper in. Be-
came a bankrupt; and after years of trouble and sorrow
was readmitted, and resumed his former work. Old, poor,
and cast down, he tried to do his duty, but his life had been
wasted, and his mind dwarfed. If he had studied and waited
a few years, and then married a truly pious lady of good com-
mon sense, who would have helped him in his holy calling,
he might have become eminently useful. But he had made
a mistake.

“No. 3 was the son of a plain old Methodist who, by
hard work and strict economy upon a farm, had secured
the means of giving his only boy a pretty fair education;
had been admitted on trial, and placed upon a good cir-
cuit; was well received, and gave promise of making a use-
ful man; but a dove craze came upon him too soon, and he
married an immature and worldly-minded girl in his sec-
ond year’s ministry. The Bishop found it a little difficult
to give him work as a married man, and fewer doors were
opened to welcome him. They could bear with Aim, and
support him as a single man, but not with a wife. While
alone, he could come and go at his pleasure into any house
of his members, and required but little attention; it was a
different thing when he brought a lady into the family.
Some good sisters would rather accommodate two men
than one woman. They fear the criticisms of their own
190 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

sex, and look upon a strange lady as a detective in the
family. And if the poor innocent should be betrayed into
retailing the gossip she has heard where she lately visited,
she soon seals her own fate and her husband’s too. Let the
young minister resolve that he will honorably graduate to
the eldership, and clearly understand ‘the course of study’
prescribed by the Church for all candidates therefor, before
he will presume to look asensible lady in the face and ask for
her hand and heart for life. This isthe shortest time. Seven
years of study and labor was the term of single blessedness
recommended by our fathers, and even then ‘ to hasten slowly’
was a wise motto. Of course no universal rule can be laid
down, but exceptions should be few. It is unfortunate to
rush into the ministry, and equally so to rush into matri-
mony. Ministerial dwarfishness and location, with all the
attendant evils to the Church and to themselves, follow.
Exceptional cases do occur where a preacher, even in. his
early ministry, finds a lady who will stimulate and aid him
in his studies, sympathize with his efforts to be consecrated
and useful, and by her prudence and piety raise him to a
higher plane. Such a wife is a prize above rubies. But
‘pearls of great value’ are sometimes counterfeited.
“Among other sad cases of matrimonial mistakes was that
of a good brother who married an excellent widow, who, al-
. though his senior, would have made him happy; but her chil-
dren, without cause, were bitterly opposed to him, resulting
in a great family disturbance, and in the violent death of
the noble-hearted but unfortunate preacher. Few ministers,
like Wesley, have -risen above the influence of marrying
badly. A good wife ‘is of the Lord’—and their name is
‘legion’—but a bad one is a great calamity, not to say a
curse. Paul had the right to lead about a wife like Peter
—but all things lawful are not at all times expedient.”
The administration of discipline is essential to the exist-
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 191

 

ence of the Church, but very much depends upon the spirit
ia which the laws are enforced. The course pursued by the
young preacher who afterward became the senior Bishop of
the Church, and the highest expounder of ecclesiastical law,
possesses much interest. Feeble hands may do much to in-
jure the cause of Christ; a vindictive spirit will do more.
Robert Paine found the middle way the path of safety:
“The Flint River Circuit, to which I was appointed in
1818, was a large one. All our circuits then were large.
I was alone. It extended south to Huntsville, Alabama,
and north to Winchester, Tennessee, with the intervening
and surrounding country. It lay in a fertile and beautiful
region, and was rapidly filling up with a wealthy and in-
telligent population. It was bounded on the east by a
lofty, unbroken range of mountains dividing the waters of
Tennessee and Elk rivers, and constituting one of the most
picturesque and productive valleys in the Western World.
It was a charming country, and was occupied by a worthy
people. Its contiguity to my father’s gave me the pleasure
of visiting home more frequently. The principal drawback
was that, being in pastoral charge, the exercise of the dis-
cipline upon its violators now devolved upon me. Several
instances soon occurred—the first at F.’s camp-ground.
“After preaching, and dismissing the audience, I proceed-
ed to ask for the class-leader and the class-paper, to hold
class-meeting, with closed doors, as usual. The leader sug-
gested that a certain brother present had been intoxicated,
and a trial was needed. The membership was the largest
in the circuit; all were present. A profound silence en-
sued, while every head was bowed in grief and sympathy.
The accused was under middle age, an industrious and suc-
cessful young planter, who owned a good little farm, and
was popular and respected. His wife, with two small chil-
dren, was there. She was a cheerful, tidy, loving wife, and
192 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

an earnest Christian. The sun rarely shone on a happier
household. Their parents, on both sides, and nearly all
their kin, were present; for the family were Methodists, and
were the bone and sinew of the county as citizens and
Christians. The erring brother responded to the call of
his name, pleaded guilty to the charge, and in subdued
tones submitted his case. I read the law—drunkenness is
‘a crime expressly forbidden.’ I was in trouble—all were
troubled. Must he be expelled? He was a young convert,
and expulsion and degradation likely involved ruin. I be-
gan by asking him: ‘ Why, my brother, have you brought
yourself and us into this fix? Have you any explanation
to give for your conduct? When, where, how did it hap-
pen?’ Then the class-paper trembled in my hand as his
wife’s head sunk down as if she was crushed, and I broke
down. Then he raised his head ‘a little, and while great
scalding tears were coursing down his honest, candid face,
he said slowly, in tones interrupted by emotions too strong
to be wholly expressed by words: ‘I didn’t intend it, broth-
er. It wasn’t in a doggery; my merchant said I needed
something; it was so cold—brought it—now suppose it was
raw whisky or brandy. I never thought it would turn my
head so. Never was drunk before. Can’t help it now; it’s
over, and I am ruined.’ Here he broke down, and his poor
wife brought a low, long wail, like a despairing dirge. We
all broke down. ‘No, no, brother, I said; ‘can’t you quit?’
‘Quit!’ he replied. ‘I have quit. Suppose you must turn
me out; suppose you ought to. I deserve it; but do as you
may, I will never taste the thing again; never, so help me
God!’ And then the wife shouted, and the elder child
climbed into his father’s lap, and the youngest nestled
fondly on its mother’s bosom. The old members shook
hands and blessed God, and the young pastor thought he
saw day breaking. In conclusion, I proposed that if he
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 193

 

was truly penitent, and would then and there join me in a
solemn pledge never to use intoxicating liquors again, un-
less as medicine, we would forgive him, and say nothing
more about a trial. He did this at once; the members
agreed to it, and this was the first temperance society
I formed. I often heard of him afterward, and learned
he had kept his vow, as I have tried to keep mine since
1818. Methodism meant temperance then. The class-leader
prayed, all left happy, and at a camp-meeting held there
that summer more than one hundred and twenty professed
religion and joined the Church. That trial did good.
“But scarcely had I ceased to thank God, and congratu-
late myself on the happy ending of this affair, before it was
whispered in my ear by a trusty and tried class-leader, the
recording steward residing in a distant section of my work
—old Brother S.—that a similar but far more serious case
had occurred in his class. The greater importance of this
affair arose from the fact that the accused was the best ed-
ucated, most respected, and most generally known of any
other local minister in the community. He was a native of
Scotland—was thoroughly educated in Edinburgh for the
ministry of the National Church, and came to the United
States at the call of his brethren to fill an important posi-
tion. He landed in Virginia, I believe, where he entered
upon the duties of his vocation. His qualifications for the
position soon became evident, and his success was assured.
New scenes and associations were, after a short period, fol-
lowed by his marriage to an excellent lady, a Methodist,
and a member of an intelligent and highly respected family.
Thus thrown into immediate contact with a large and de-
voted body of Christians and ministers holding Arminian
sentiments, he awoke to the fact that he was obliged to ex-
amine a creed which, by the number and character of its
adherents, confronted and antagonized his own. Quietly,
13
194 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

prayerfully, and unknown to others, the process began. It
presently became a serious matter. He began it, not doubt
ing it would end in confirming his long-cherished Calvinist-
ic opinions, and furnish him additional arguments against
Wesleyan theology. What was his surprise, as he cautious-
ly and slowly proceeded, to find himself surrendering and
receding, step after step, from points he had regarded as
impregnable, until to his amazement his conscience com-
pelled him to abandon the strongholds of unconditional
election and accept the system of provisional universal
salvation. There was no public controversy going on be-
tween the opposing advocates of the two creeds, but
in the solitude of his library he critically, as a schol-
ar, marked, weighed, and inwardly digested the subject,
determined to follow his matured and conscientious con-
victions wherever they might lead. The result of this
mental struggle was his conversion to Methodist doctrines.
Arminius, Episcopius, Wesley, and Fletcher, in their ex-
planation of the word of God, triumphed over Augustine,
Knox, and Calvin, and his mind was disenthralled and
emancipated from the ‘Horrible Decree.’ It followed, as a
matter of course, that as his investigation had been honest
his action was prompt. He candidly reported his change,
was ‘relieved’ without censure, received and recognized as
a minister of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and enjoyed
the confidence and esteem of both Churches and of the
whole community. In after years his Virginia friends in-
duced him to remove with them to the West, and open
a first-class academy, where I found him in 1818, within
tne bounds of my work. He had become a patriarch in
piety, age, and bearing. His school and that conducted
by Rev. Thomas B. Craighead, near Nashville, Tennessee,
one hundred and twenty miles apart, were regarded as the
best classical academies in all their respective regions. In
’

BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 195

 

many respects they were alike—both were then far ad-
vanced in life, had educated a large number of the most
prominent members of the community; both had found it
necessary to revise their creeds, and eliminate therefrom
the ultra Calvinistic features of the Westminster Confes-
sion. The former had found a congenial haven in Meth-
odism, while the latter, I believe, did not change his Church
relation. They were alike respected for their piety, learn-
ing, and usefulness.

“Such was the venerable man who was reported by his
class-leader and life-long friend as having been intoxicated ;
and who desired to see me and the leader about it. We
went immediately, and found him in bed; silence and sor-
row prevailed in the house. His aged and devuted wife
and their children kept their rooms—they were grief-
stricken and stunned; they could not talk about it; could
see no one. Our visit unlocked the fountain, and for awhile
his tears poured forth as from an overflowing heart. We,
too, sat with bowed heads, and could not talk, while we
cried as if over a dying father. At last he abruptly
broke the silence, in substance saying to me: ‘I have dis-
graced the Church—have been intoxicated—you must try
and expel me. Nothing short of this will do.’ The facts
turned out to be these: He was invited to celebrate the
rites of matrimony between a couple who were the children
of two of his friends. When the time arrived the weather
had become intensely cold, the roads frozen, and the dis-
tance was greater than he had supposed. Withal, he was
an inexperienced horseback-rider; was old, feeble, and not
acquainted with the road. Of course he lost his way, was
belated, and after hiring a negro to guide him, arrived at
the place several hours behind time. When he got there
he was so stiff and cold that he had to be taken down and
carried into the house. To restore him they gave him
196 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

something, assuring him it would revive him without hurt-
ing him. He took it, sat near the fire awhile, and found
his head in a whirl. ‘Why, every thing is turning round!
am I drunk?’ he exclaimed. The company assembled was
a large, wealthy, and aristocratic one, many of whom he
had educated, and all revered him; they knew his Scotch
integrity and Christian purity of life, and while he wept in
repeating, ‘I must be drunk,’ etc., they replied: ‘No, it is
vertigo—the cold and fatigue followed by a hot fire.’ But
this did not soothe his feelings. He, however, performed
the ceremony, and after a night’s rest went home. Now
he demanded of me, as his pastor, a trial and fudd punish-
ment. He had dismissed his school in his paroxysm of
mort fed grief, had proclaimed his fall, and now the
Church must vindicate her rules by his arrest, trial, and
expulsion. It was useless to talk to him. So I called a
committee, and he was suspended for three months. He
protested against the leniency of the sentence, and sent me
his certificates of ordination, but finally submitted. The
time expired; it was on my preaching-day there. I asked
him to take my place. The whole region attended, and
such a sermon and such a time as we all had are rarely
witnessed. He fell to rise higher in public esteem, and has
long since gone where misfurtunes and temptations, like sin
and sorrow, are forever unknown.”

On the subject of popular amusements Bishop Paine has
left a clear testimony. Conservative in thought, he has
given no cause for complaint of extreme views. As a calm,
wise, and deeply interested observer of men and things, his
views are of great value:

“In going from McGee’s to Huntsville, in the year 1819,
oz my circuit work, and just as I came opposite the Green
Bottom Inn, I heard a great shout, and looking to my left
saw an immense throng of highly excited people, and at a
‘BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 197

 

glance perceived horses dash off in the direction I was tray-
eling. It flashed upon me that it was the celebrated race-
track where the sportsmen of Kentucky, Tennessee, and
North Alabama annually tested the speed and pluck of their
high-blooded horses. The hill, houses, and stages were
crowded, and such cheering arid prolonged huzzas had rarely
been heard. In a moment the words ‘Mine eyes shall not
look on vanity’ occurred to me; and although the swift
coursers in making the circle ran so near me that I could
hear the clatter of their feet and the breathing of the pant-
ing and struggling fliers, I kept steadily on my way without
pausing or stealing a glance at them.

“Ts it asked what harm it would have been if I had done
otherwise? Would it have been sinful? Is racing a sin?
I do not say that running, or simple racing, is a sin, or that
looking at a race is of itself such, especially if it be acci-
dental; but I do unequivocally say that the race-course is
the theater where one of the worst kinds of gambling is
practiced, and that all abettors of it are practically contrib-
uting to debauch public sentiment. Bets are often made on
trials of speed a year or more in advance; the mind, heart,
and body are predccupied and engrossed. I have known
sportsmen, while with heavy bets pending and horses in
training for the coming contest, to become religiously im-
pressed; but few of them have yielded. The very fact that
they had committed themselves to a race for a large sum
utterly discouraged all serious efforts. The excitement con-
tinues so long, the associations and fascinations are so dan.
gerous, and the temptations to other and kindred vices so
strong, that the life of the sportsman is like walking by
moonlight over a bridge full of holes—where one crosses
safely a hundred fall through. Grant something may be
true which is claimed for it, as to improving certain qual-
ities of the horse, the employment it gives to labor, the
198 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

people it brings to the hotel and public carrier interests, and
the recreation it affords to the masses who attend, backed
and countenanced by legislators, judges, the queens of beauty,
fashion, and wealth, from the empress to the canatlle—still,
candor compels the verdict that the evil infinitely tran-
scends the benefit. The benefit is largely imaginary, the
evil real and far-reaching. The gambling like the drink-
ing proclivity is a morally unhealthy one, needing restraint
the more because it originates in a perverted and depraved
appetite. Whether we regard the kings of the turf, the in-
fluence they naturally exercise over their own families, es-
pecially their sons and sons-in-law, over their associates, re-
tainers, trainers, stable-boys, and the long retinue of flatter-
ers, loafers, and worn-out specimens of humanity; the diver-
sion it fosters adverse to piety, purity, and intellectual cult-
ure, leaving out of view the pecuniary investment in it, and
which cannot be readily turned into other and useful enter-
prises without heavy loss; all, and more, unite to condemn
the race-track as exceptionally objectionable—a gigantic
gamble. Under the most favorable surroundings, it works
evil. The fictitious importance it confers upon the least
valuable quality of the horse is overwhelmingly counter-
balanced by its degrading effects upon the noblest attributes
of manhood. And this applies alike to aristocratic Epsom
Derby and the quarter-mile extemporized race at the dilap-
idated village for a quart of contraband whisky—with the
exception that the former is worse in proportion to its as-
sumed greater respectability. Imagine a race-visiting cler-
gyman preaching on Sunday to an audience he has been
meeting the entire week previously on the race-track! Is
he not beset with the echoes of the shouts, the ribald jests,
profanity, and drunken craziness of his associates, even when
in soft tones of mock penitence he distributes to them the
sacred symbols of the Last Supper, and when renouncing
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 199

 

‘the devil and all his works, the vain pomp and glory of
the world,’ and vowing ‘not to follow or be led by them ?’
Must not the actors in this scene laugh in each other’s faces,
the first time they meet afterward, at the remembrance
of their sublime impudence? Is this Liberalism—Broad-
church Christianity? Liberal enough for the Roman soldier
who gambled for Christ’s vesture at the foot of his cross,
and broad enough for the rich man who went to hell.

“But what of dancing and thetheater? Will the Church
prohibit its members from amusements? Certainly not.
Rational and innocent amusements may often be needed,
and are proper. Our Heavenly Father does not stint us.
He is profuse. All paradise was given with one reservation.
That was a test case. Theonly thing prohibited was a thing
not necessary to existence, to true happiness, or the highest
end of life. Of every thing else they might freely and fully
partake. The new—the ‘good, very good’—world, with all
its beauty, sublimity, and stainless purity, lay before them,
the free gift and pledge of their great Father’s love. It
was theirs to have, to hold, and enjoy. With all this was
the bestowment of attributes adapting them perfectly to ap-
prehend and enjoy their munificent surroundings. Within
the vast circumference of these various pursuits and pleas-
ures all was natural and innocent; but as every gift carries
with it obligation, and every law implies and involves duties
to be enforced by penalty, so, as a recognition of this uni-
versal principle, a prohibition was announced as a test of
love and fealty, to disregard which is sin. It matters not
what that duty or test may be, if the Supreme Lawgiver
authoritatively imposes it as such, it is sin to disregard it.
The simpler and easier the condition, the less is the excuse
and greater the sin of its violation. The magnitude of the
offense is determined by the authority of the law. The in-
spited oracles denounce ‘reveling, banqueting,’ ‘the lusts of
200 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

the flesh and of the eye, and the pride of life;’ it demands
bearing the cross, self-denial, humility, and to do‘ whatever
we do to the glory of God.’ While neither the Bible nor
the Church prescribes specifically and by name every duty
or denounces every error, resolving and comprehending
many of them in great principles, the distinctions are so
clear and plainly laid down as to be apparent to the discern-
ment of the spiritually-minded inquirer. It is not dancing
for health or recreation, nor dancing in the abstract—if
there be such—but dancing in the concrete, promiscuous, of
the sexes in close contact; the familiar handling, dangling,
caressing, the indelicate posturing, the personal liberty taken
and submitted to as naturally understood in the programme
of the dance-room—all these kept up to the ‘wee hours of
the night’—it is these, and the like, which go to condemn
these orgies as injurious to health, and inconsistent with re-
fined feminine sensibility and the genius of Christianity.
“Tt is not assumed that there are not greater evils than
dancing, or that some who oppose it may not have a ‘beam’
who find a‘mote;’ nor is it denied that young and timid
ladies, who find themselves unexpectedly in a parlor where
they must join in a dance, or be the ‘wall-flowers’ of the
circle, reluctantly, and from a want of moral courage, yield
to temptation. They are perhaps as much to be pitied as
blamed for the offense; but if they freely, and from love of
it, persist against persuasion, remonstrance, and repeated
pastoral warning, and reasonable waiting for reflection, the
result seems inevitable—the formal relation dissolved as the
spiritual has already been. Whoever loves worldly pleas-
ures more than Christ is no Christian; and the fashionable
dance, and the delight in it, as clearly discriminates between
the ‘flesh and the spirit’ as any thing I know of. The
Church, following the Master, has prohibited it. Every
Christian denomination in the country, through its highest
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 201

 

officials, has condemned it; and if they have failed to con-
form their judicial acts to their protests, we may regret it,
but cannot imitate them. As Methodists we may not al-
ways have been blameless, but I think I can safely say that
horse-raeing, the liquor traffic, theater-going, and dancing—
all of which belong to the same category — when properly
dealt with, will dissolve Church-membership when properly
brought into the Church-court.

“In this exercise of official duty it is especially proper
that there be no rash, hasty, or injudicious action. While we
dare not silently see the Church lapse into worldliness with-
out trying to prevent it, we cannot afford to diminish our
influence as under-shepherds of a gentle and loving Chief
Pastor.

“To all this it may be said the tendency of the time is
drifting the Church into the world, and it cannot be pre-
vented. So much greater is the necessity to resist it now,
before it is too late. What surprises me most is that our
members need restraint in these things. After my conver-
sion I had no taste for them. Love and gratitude to my
Lord cured me for life of the desire for sinful and doubtful
amusements. A thorough change of heart ought to do this.”

Few Methodist preachers have escaped the knowledge of
financial embarrassments. The small sums allowed to the
preachers in the early days were often insufficient to supply
the necessaries of life. The helping Providence is seen in
the following narrative of Bishop Paine: ;

“My field of labor presented some serious discouragements
during the first half of the year. I was not only without
acquaintances, but my circuit was very large, deficient in
roads and bridges; accommodations and ordinary comforts
greatly needed, as usual in new settlements, while I had
twenty-eight appointments to fill monthly, from fifteen to
twenty-five miles apart. During the winter of 1819-20 and
202 LIFE OF ROBERY PAINE, D.D.

 

early spring, I was much exposed to the weather, and was
near being drowned on several occasicns while swimming
streams to reach my preaching-places. For all this I felt
amply compensated by the warm-hearted hospitality of the
people, and by the consciousness of trying to do my duty.
Yet I now think that in some of these hazardous exposures
I was mistaken as to duty. Before the year had half ex-
pired my finances were exhausted, and it flashed upon me
while crossing a little prairie between Erie and Greensboro,
skirted by trees draped in long moss, that I was a penniless
stranger hundreds of miles from home, too proud to beg and
unable todig. The fact is, I thought I had left my father’s
with money enough to pay my way for more than a year;
but my traveling expenses, clothing, horse-shoeing, and other
things, had cost a good deal more than in Tennessee, and
having neglected to write home in time, I had suddenly been
startled with the discovery of my bankruptcy. I have a
distinct recollection of my feelings. I stopped, looked
through my collapsed pocket-book to find it innocent of con-
cealing a single cent. What now? Shall I go on, getting
farther away from home, try to get back to Tuscaloosa, bor-
row money there to get home on, and then return to my
circuit? If so, all my appointments fall, and I have to go
around to make new ones. Besides, friends and foes will
say I deserted my post; and then I remembered that a bold,
bad man, living on the north fork of the Warrior, had sent
me word that if I preached there again he would certainly
beat me badly. I confess this threat determined me. J
would not go away under a threat. I turned away to trust
Providence for the money and do my work. The stewards
had neglected their duty, but without begging it I got the
means from an unexpected source the next day, and staid.
Iam glad I did. The money came in this wise: About
sunset on the day just alluded to I rode up to a cabin hav-
BISHOP OF THE M. E, CHURCH, SOUTH. 208

 

ing only one room, and upon asking the name of the owner
was confronted by a very large lady who gave the name
where Brother E. Hearn had informed me he had made an
appointment for me to preach on the next day. I asked the
lady if there was such an appointment. She did not know—
had heard the old man say something about it; but he and
the boys were off on a bear-hunt—might be home some time
that night, or might not. Told her I received notice, and
upon his invitation I had come to preach. Shelooked some-
what bewildered, and I felt a good deal so. The only house
I saw was that one; it was unfinished; a half dozen children
crowded the door. The boys and the old man, with those
present, must fill it. It looked like a downright imposition
to obtrude; but what could I do? Night was upon me. IJ
was a stranger—did not know the roads nor the neighbors,
if there were any. Could she tell where I could go? But
she was a new-comer—did not know. Still sitting upon my
tired horse and looking around for a road, she said I was
welcome to stay if I could make out todoso; but there was
no place nor any food for my horse, except a little corn
which was used for bread after being pounded in a wooden
mortar by a wooden pestle or beater. How gratefully I
accepted the conditions! blistered my shoulders carrying
heavy rails to make a pound for my horse; and how long I
belabored those flinty grains of corn into meal, and how
soundly I slept, the deponent saith not. Next day a dozen,
more or less, came out. The old man had got home before
midnight and fixed seats; and as I began service a tall and
elegant lady came in, and after preaching had closed, intro-
duced herself, and invited me in the name of her husband
to spend the night with them, and that at my next round I
should preach at their house. My host and his wife con-
senting, I promised to do so. When leaving there next
morning to cross the Alabama River at Cahaba, a five-dollar
204 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

gold piece was left in my hand by Mrs. Matthew Garey.
That was enough; it would pay my way across the river and
until my stewards should awake to the fact that they had
forgotten their duty.”
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 205

=

 

CHAPTER XXxXl.

“Notes or Lire” ContiInurED—REMovVAL or InpIANS—HoLy
Livinac—SKETCcH OF BisHop Bascom—CuurcH Pouity.

HE attitude of the Government toward the Indian tribes
has employed the pens of many wise and benevolent
persons who have deplored the resort to the implements of
warfare and death as means of controlling and subduing
the red men. Bishop Paine furnishes us with a plain state-
ment relating to two of the Indian tribes:

“The winter of 1540-41 proved to be unusually long and
severe, and the Spaniards drew heavily upon the Indians for
supplies—they accused their red friends of having retaliated
by taking their hogs. De Soto is said to have carrie a
good many hogs with him to meet emergencies, and the in-
dians had now learned to appreciate this kind of food. A
large part of this tribe still lived on the East Tennessee and
West Virginia highlands, although they had many villages
in what has long been known as the ‘ Chickasaw Old Fields.’
In the spring of 1541 De Soto, wishing to continue his march,
demanded two hundred able-bodied Indians to assist in car-
rying his baggage and artillery to the Mississippi River, but
they refused to obey. A battle followed, both parties suf-
fered terribly, and the Spaniards were compelled to leave,
much crippled and discouraged. They are thought to have
struck the great river at the ‘Chickasaw Bluffs,’ near Mem-
phis. Crossing the Mississippi, they are believed to have
wandered over the highlands of Arkansas, and seen the Hot
Springs, but not finding the El Dorado, to have gone down
to the Mississippi about Helena, where De Soto died.

“This whole affair seems like a romance, but there are
206 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

many things which prove the main facts upon which the
story rests. See Pickett’s ‘History of Alabama’ and ‘J. F.
H. Claiborne’s Mississippi.’ Other invasions of this country
by Spaniards and French at different periods occurred, in
all of which these two great tribes maintained their reputa-
tion as warriors and statesmen, having never been con-
quered or driven by military force from their early homes.
“There are two points in this question as to the treatment
of the Indians by the United States Government upon which
I wish to make remarks hefore I close it. Of the general
subject I say nothing, because I know but little, but con-
fine myself to these two tribes. I knew a good deal about
them before they went west of the Mississippi, and have vis-
ited them repeatedly since—staid with them for weeks at a
time, held conferences with them, preached to them, and talked
freely with them. They left Mississippi and Alabama reluc-
tantly; with many it was a great and sore trial; but their
‘heads’ and ‘chiefs’ saw it must be, or they were to be wor-
ried almost to death and at last compelled to go. Think-
ing they might get a reliable guaranty by an exchange, in .
which they would pay for their new home, and get clear of
being further disturbed, they finally consented to remove.
I believe the agreement was to allot to each Indian a cer-
tain amount of land wherever he might claim it. It was
all to be surveyed, and publicly sold to the highest bidder,
and the Indian to receive the whole amount. After every
claim had been thus settled, the remainder of land was given
to the United States. In consideration for this the Indians
were to be transported at the expense and under the pro-
tection of the United States—were to have a guaranty title
to a much larger quantity of land west of the Mississippi
River and a considerable annuity. The land here general-
ly sold for its fair value. I know it did in the Chickasaw
Nation, as I have lived upon it over thirty years, and doubt
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 207

 

if to-day it could be sold for more than was then paid
for it.

“Speculators and pretended friends doubtless cheated
individual Indians, but I do not believe the Government
did. Upon the whole, I think the removal of the Chick-
asaws, Creeks, Cherokees, Choctaws, Delawares, Wyan-
dots, and Shawnees, and the other tribes that settled down
quietly to agricultural life, has so far been a blessing to
them. It is my decided conviction that too large a terri-
tory is not favorable to their best interests. Enough for
cultivation and stock-ranging, and room for natural in-
crease, and for those who cannot be expected to suddenly
suppress their hunting proclivity, must be yielded to them.

“Gradually, as the wild game disappears, and they ad-
vance in civilization and piety, they cultivate the soil and
cease to roam and hunt. Most or all of the tribes enumerat-
ed have realized this fact, and are acting conformably. But
let the Government keep faith with them—drive off intrud-
ers, protect them from liquor-sellers, qualify them for citizen-
ship, and maintain them in all their rights.

“Of course no people will work for a living if others
will feed them. They must have help, but must help
themselves too. Help which comes without need and co-
operation is a premium for idleness and vagabondism. If
those tribes which have more land than they find necessary
will contract their limits, and not factiously oppose the open-
ing of railroads where the interests of society require them,
and the Government will sternly protect them, then may we
confidently look for their clevativn. The preacher and the
teacher will then have a fair field.”

As the shadows were falling at the serene sunset of life,
Bishop Paine reviews the past, and recalls the experiences
of his early days concerning the subject of holiness:

“Cicero and others have moralized beautifully on the
208 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

subject of old age—the serene retrospect of a virtuous and
useful life; but to the Christian whose standard is the word
of God, and whose conscience demands a high degree of
purity of purpose, and a consecration of' life to the noblest
capabilities of his being, there is little ground for self-com-
mendation. However conscious he may feel of having in-
tended to do right, he cannot but be aware of having often
failed in his manner of doing it. The holiest are the hum-
blest and most grateful. It is natural for the aged to dwell
upon the past, and it is fit for them to be thankful for the
grace and the fostering providence which have guided and
preserved them; but ‘pride was not made for man,’ and we
need daily prayer for ‘preventing grace’ and pardon.

“In looking back over my life’s work, no year has left its
mark upon my memory more indelibly than this. I was in
a mission-field, a stranger far from home; the country was
new, comforts few, rides long, and my labors taxed all my
time and energies. The formation of the ‘Missionary As-
sociation,’ my trip to the Indian Territory, my illness among
them, and especially the intimate friendships formed with
John Hersey and other intelligent and truly devoted Chris-
tians, very deeply impressed me. Religiously it was a period
of very great importance to me. The subject of holiness
engrossed my mind and heart. I read, thought, and prayed
about it. Two days in the week I fasted and prayed espe-
cially for the blessing of perfect love. Often I spent hours
at a time alone in the forest invoking the blessing of a ‘clean
heart.’ During many hours of lonesome travel through
primeval forests it occupied my thoughts. I never doubted
that I had been converted October 9, 1817. Others had
gone on to a higher state and had attained it. Why not I?
I denied myself many things I had always heretofore thought
innocent. I keenly introspected my feelings and motives.
If I were to particularize, my readers would likely think
BISHOP OF THE M. E, CHURCH, SOUTH. 209

 

my conscience was morbidly sensitive. My long rides and
constant labors and abstinence enfeebled me so that I could
not ride ten miles without getting off and resting by the
road-side. I became very thin—-my knees got as hard as a
wood-chopper’s hand, and my throat or lungs commenced
bleeding daily. Still I went on, preaching almost every
day and frequently at night, looking for the blessing of
‘sanctification.’ I remember distinctly while preaching on
‘the pure in heart,’ at Hardwick’s, near Savannah, to have
felt such a sense of God’s comforting presence that I was
constrained to avow that I then realized the blessing of per-
fect love. Nor was it a transient or solitary emotion. Yet
I hesitated and feared to profess it. I needed some one to
teach and guide me. So things continued until I left for
another field. The year’s experience deeply impressed my
religious history.

“Of late I have been often asked my opinion as to cer-
tain articles which have been published as to regeneration,
sanctification, holiness, Christian perfection, etc., especially
as to whether regeneration and sanctification are distinct
and separate operations, each having its distinct evidence;
or are they one, differing only in measure or degree? wheth-
er in either or any case it is proper to expect and pray for
a wholly sanctified heart and the witness of the Holy Spirit;
ot its attainment now; or is it a state of grace which is
gradual, and culminates only at the close of probation? To
these and similar inquiries, and speaking for myself alone,
my answer is, I am not inclined to take as my creed on this
or any other scriptural dogma the language, by wholesale.
of any uninspired creed-maker without explanation. I am
a Methodist, and believe in the doctrines and polity of my
Church, as I understand them to be embodied directly or
by fair inference in the Scriptures; and my views on thir
subject may be thus briefly stated:

14
210 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

“Regeneration changes our spiritual nature as justifica-
tion does our personal relation to God. As faith is the con-
dition precedent to these, so this faith, leading to filial obe-
dience, carries forward the work of grace to more full out-
pourings of the Holy Spirit, and, when persistently sought,
to closer communion with God, to which he gives the witness
of his work. It is the same agent, the same work, to be re-
tained and grow while life lasts. Every truly regenerated
person is ‘set apart’ to the service of God— sanctified’
He enters upon ‘the highway of holiness,’ and if he contin-
ues holy and faithful he will most assuredly attain to ‘the
mark for the prize.’ Along this thoroughfare are stages, or
degree stations, which mark his progress; and who can deny
that ‘a clean heart, a right spirit,’ ‘love that casteth out
fear,’ and the sanctity which Christ prayed that his disciples
might attain, may not be realized here, accompanied by the
witnessing Spirit? May we not expect to realize what God
promises to bestow? And why withhold his seal in verify-
ing his own work?

“Tt is, then, possible to be sanctified here, to love God
supremely, and yet to labor under physical infirmities and
the misfortune of a perverted nature. They are inevitable
sequences of the fall, and I cannot associate guilt with the
inevitable. I have never forgotten a question proposed to
me by an old preacher of another Church shortly after my
conversion: ‘Did you repent of Adam’ssin?’ It was a new
thought to me, and I replied: ‘I never thought of Adam’s
sin, ny own troubled me so much.’ He thought I had not
gone far enough back, I was troubled with the effects, but
not penitent for the guilt, of original sin. Guilt without per-
sonal agency is a myth, especially in view of the vicarious
‘oblation that taketh away the sins of the world.’”

The extraordinary effect produced by the preaching of
Dr. Bascom has been noticed in a preceding extract from
BISHOP OF THE M. E, CHURCH, SOUTH. 211

 

the “Notes of Life.” In the following, Bishop Paine pre-
sents a more extended picture of this great preacher:

“The life of Henry Bidleman Bascom abounded with in-
structive incidents, many of which are too well known to
call for repetition. It may not, however, be amiss to em-
phasize a few of them. Born May 27, 1796, in New Jer-
sey; he embraced religion August 18, 1810; was received
by Loring Grant into the Methodist Church the next
spring; emigrated to Kentucky with his father’s family in
1812, and shortly afterward settled in Ohio, a few miles
north of Maysville, Kentucky, in a poor and lonely region
of hills and gulches. His father seems to have been mar-
ried twice, and had a large family—Henry being his first-
born, and I believe the only child of his first wife. His
father, always poor, became prematurely infirm, and with
the burden of a heavy family could not dispense with the
labor of his son. After that son had culminated as ‘a
bright particular star,’ as a writer and orator in the galaxy
of great names destined ‘never to fade nor fly,’ while stand-
ing with an old resident of the city of Maysville, Kentucky,
overlooking the busy wharf, the river, and opposite the clitis
upon whose side stood the humble log-cabin whence young
Bascom in his fourteenth year went forth to struggle for a
living for himself and his dependent father and his half
sisters and brothers, my friend said to me: ‘ Here, right be-
fore you, is the place where our great and loved Dr. Bas-
com began his life’s battle. In that little field on the river
I have seen him often cutting grain without coat or vest.
At this wharf, as a drayman, I have watched him receive
and hauling away the freight from boats, when the usual
pay for a day’s labor was fifty cents. Saturday evening
would find him climbing up the brow of that steep and rug-
ged mountain, bearing provisions and a few simple delica-
cies, obtained by the daily labor of his own hands, for the
212 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

support of his bedridden father and helpless family.’ In-
deed, his unfaltering love, and tender, never-ceasing care
and kindness to his kindred, through many years, was
known by all his early neighbors. Even after he had won
his professorship in Augusta College, and stood with Ruter,
Durbin, and Tomlinson, he would devote all his net earn-
ings to the physical and intellectual benefit of his father’s fam-
ily. And when the old people became so ill as to require
constant and skillful nursing, he spent his college vacation
at home, taking what repose was possible in sleeping upon
the rough puncheon-floor of the cabin, with only a blanket
under him, ready to rise and minister to the sufferer at the
first sign. His Maker endowed him with an intellect of
the highest compass, a robust will, and the strongest sym-
pathies. All these qualities are necessary to make the
highest order of manhood. All this and more was Dr. Bas-
com. I need not allude to his extraordinary eloquence, by
which he swayed listening thousands into rapture or terror
as his theme changed; nor to his clear and masterly writing
—as, for example, his protest against the action of the ma-
jority in the General Conference of 1844,

“The course adopted in publishing Bishop Bascom’s ser-
mons has been regretted by many of his best friends. They
were by himself called ‘Sermons for the Pudpit’—not for
the press—and an attempt was made by some of his friends
to place them and other productions of his pen in the hands
of the now deceased Bishop Wightman, who itis understood
would revise them, and supervise their publication. Un-
fortunately other counsels prevailed. The preaching style
of the Bishop before vast and promiscuous assemblies, owing
to his rich imagination and his rare command of words, was
often very rapid and highly ornate, while his written style
was more simple and lucid. He was aware of this, and
hence‘the discrimination he made between pulpit and press.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 213

 

“This critique, however, must not be regarded as depre-
ciating his published sermons as to their true merits, for
taking them as they are issued, they display a high order
of mind.

“Although he justly stood preéminent in the estimation of
Mr. Henry Clay, and others who had a national reputation
for learning and eloquence, yet, as his biographers say, there
were a number of his early associates among the preachers
by whom he was not appreciated. His dress and personal
appearance did not suit their taste, hence the withholding
of his reception and ordination for two years.

“The election of Dr. Bascom to the episcopacy was a sur-
prise to himself more than to the Church. It took place at
the session of the General Conference in St. Louis, in 1850.
The session was a short one, owing to the appearance of
cholera in the city as an epidemic. There was a panic
among its citizens, many fleeing into the country, some of
them having agreed to entertain delegates, who were thus
suddenly left without homes for awhile. The death of a
delegate from Georgia—Boring—increased the excitement,
and the Conference determined to elect a Bishop and close
the session as soon as its necessary work could be transact-
ed. When the election: came off, Bishops Soule and An-
drew were sick—the former confined to his bed and very
feeble. Neither of them was present. Bishop Capers and
the writer presided to the close of the Conference. In leav-
ing the room shortly after the result of the ballot had been
announced, and the adjournment of the day’s work, Dr.
Bascom was seen in the rear part of the house sitting alone
with his head bowed, and upon approaching him he was
found weeping and almost convulsed with emotion. He
protested that he did not want and could not accept the of-
fice—that he was unsuited to it, had never acted as presiding
elder or actual chairman. His habits of life, his taste, and
214 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

his purposes were, and had always been, otherwise. Final-
ly, he agreed that if upon my consulting the Bishops they
should unanimously agree and desire his ordination, which
he doubted, he might consent to it; but certainly not with-
out this. At night the Bishops met for consultation. Bish-
op Soule was in bed, and very ill. Bishop Andrew was re-
clining on a sofa when Bishop Capers and I entered, and
presently laid before them the state of Dr. Bascom’s feel-
ings. Capers and myself were decided in our opinion that
he ought to submit to ordination. As usual, the younger
Bishops being first called upon for their opinions, we did
not hesitate. Our senior, more deliberate, finally agreed
that they could not advise the Bishop elect to decline. It
is a principle among us not to interfere in the election of
our colleagues. We never vote anywhere outside of our
private meetings as a college for review and advice. Upon
such occasions the Bishop who would shrink from meeting a
question frankly and promptly, or who would suffer an toa
est and independent difference of opinion to disturb the har-
mony and kind feelings of the body, would be justly es-
teemed as unfit for his high position. No such case has
occurred among us for the last thirty-six years. I confess
that there was an apparent reluctance in our senior Bishops
in advising Dr. Bascom to conform to the wish of the Con-
ference; but I may have been mistaken, or they might have
been of his opinion, that he was better adapted for and more
needed in other work, while others could fill the office with
equal benefit to the Church at large. From whatever rea-
son, if any, they seemed to hesitate, they agreed to appoint
the time and place of his consecration. Dr. Bascom was
appointed to preach, as it turned out to be, his own ordina-
tion discourse, which he did upon the text, ‘God forbid that I
should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ’—
one of the finest efforts of his life. Among other objections
BISHOP OF THE M. E., CHURCH, SOUTH. 216

 

he had made to his acceptance of the office, he said, with
strong emotion, ‘It will kill me’—prophctic words. Immedi-
ately after the General Confrence he presided at the Missou-
ri Conference, thence went into the Indian Territory, then
back to St. Louis, and finding his health seriously impaired
by constant travel, care, and preaching through the hot
summer months, he started home; but reaching Louisville,
he was utterly stricken down, and died at Edward Steven-
son’s, in the fifty-third year of his age. Thus fell in the
prime of his life, and the rich and ripened powers of a mind
of rare strength and extraordinary compass, a great and
mighty prince in our Israel.

“Am I asked how the poor, obscure boy, who ‘never went
to school after he was twelve years old,’ attained a national
reputation as an orator, a writer, and for usefulness as a
minister of the gospel? I answer, by study and perseverance.
There is before me one of the standard books in the course
of study in his department of the senior class, which he
used while president of a college, which evinces his patient
and profound examination of its contents. It is full of notes
and exhaustive criticisms. He not only read but digested
and assorted the author’s thoughts. Yet he was timid to a
fault in extemporizing, and could not be drawn into discus-
gion upon the Conference-floor. I have scen him put to
confusion and silenced by an attack unexpectedly made
upon him. Early in his ministry Bascom contracted the
habit of memorizing his sermons and his lectures. His
celebrated addresses while he traveled as agent for the Af
rican Colonization Socicty, and his pulpit efforts which so
moved listening thousands, were thus delivered. But as
his years advanced, memory losing its power of retention,
and the failing of the eye rendering reading from the man-
uscript absolutely necessary, the pathos of his former years
decreased, while his intellectual vigor was undiminished.
216 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

Such must be the result whenever this practice is pursued.
We freely admit that his style was too florid to suit the taste
of critics; but take him as he was, and as by divine grace
he made himself, he was one of the most brilliant examples
of a great and noble self-made man recorded in the history
of the American Church.”

No man was more thoroughly versed in the history and
constitution of the Church than Bishop Paine. The last
extract we present from the “Notes of Life” is upon our
“Church Polity :”

“Tt has been already stated that the General Conference
held in May, 1820, was marked by several highly impor-
tant incidents. Among these was the rule making presid-
ing elders elective, and giving them, by law, authority as a
council with the Bishop to station the preachers. This was
followed by the election of Joshua Soule to the episcopacy,
his refusing to accept the office under this law, the solemn
protest of the senior Bishop—McKendree—against it, and
the suspension of this rule until the next session of the Gen- -
eral Conference.

“The retirement of Bishop McKendree, at his own sugges-
tion, and with the consent of the body, from the effective du-
ties of his office, but to continue to assist his colleagues as
might be practicable and agreeable to himself, was adopted
in a series of resolutions highly commendatory of him as a
Christian minister and an efficient and approved chief pas-
tor of the Church—a compliment as heartily given as it
was richly deserved.

“It may not be amiss to pause awhile here to make a few
suggestions: (1) Signs of dissatisfaction with that part of
our Church polity involved in the presiding eldership and lay
representation had occurred for several years, but not until
now had this opposition assumed an attitude so united, and so
menacing to the harmony and integrity of the Church. (2)
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, 80UTH. 217

 

This opposition was confined principally to the Eastern
and- Northern Conferences—the Western and Southern
being more conservative. At the first delegated Gen-
eral Conference (1812), resolutions proposing to elect
the presiding elders by the Annual Conferences were
debated two days and rejected. The Bishops—Asbury
and McKendree—were decidedly opposed to them. (38)
At every successive session down to 1828 this question
continued to disturb the supreme legislative council of the
Church. Since then, and especially in the Southern
branch of our common Methodism, it has done little harm,
because we have kept abreast with the sentiment of our
wisest and best members. May not the time come when
our Northern brethren will need the conservative aid of
the South to resist this inroad upon primitive and constitu-
tional Methodism? (4) This measure could not have been
carried in 1820 except by the aid of prominent Southern
delegates—Dr. Capers and others, for example—induced
thereto by appeals for a ‘compromise peace measure, but
which, upon more mature reflection, they felt bound to
reconsider and oppose. (5) The principal grounds upon
which the senior Bishop and the Bishop elect rested their
objections were that the change proposed as to the presiding
eldership was radical and revolutionary; that our episcopacy
is an integral and codrdinate element in the very constitution
and organization of the Church—its chief executive; that the
episcopacy is a general and itinerant oversight, charged with
the duties of supervising the whole body and officially re-
sponsible for the administration of the rules, laws, and
usages of the Discipline; that their efficient performance
of these duties of administration demand that they shall
have the authority to appoint and change those sub-oflicials
who may be necessary to act in their place according to the
law; that it would be unreasonable and unjust to impose
218 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

upon a Bishop the duty of conserving the polity and har-
monious working of our economy, and subject him to high
penalty for alleged failure, unless he could select and dis-
miss the persons through whom, in his necessary absence,
the complicated and onerous duties would devolve of in-
structing and controlling the junior pastors under him.
In all well-organized governments, pretending to secure
freedom to their subjects, there must be a division of offi-
cial powers; and like every machine which, however weil
constructed, is useless, and consequently a practical failure,
unless a moving power is attached to it adequate to its har-
monious operation, so of governments, civil and ecclesias-
tical. If there be an excess of propelling force, there is
danger; if too little, it is useless. In the first place, we
have to fear a despotism; in the last, anarchy. In our
civil government we distribute the control of the system
among three distinct codrdinate heads, or departments—
the legislative, or law-making, State and national, under
constitutional restrictions; the executive, of which the Pres-
ident is chief; and the judiciary, or Supreme Court. These
all act in their respective departments through appointees;
where they cannot do so personally, they have power to ap-
pvint, change, and oversee them, their official responsibilities
require the right of appointing them. There is, however,
a marked difference between the constitution of our Church
aud of our civil government; for while the latter restricts
the power of the Federal Government from doing any thing
excepting such as pertains to the general welfare, reserving
the remainder of power to the people or the States respect-
ively, the former confers plenary, not to say unlimited, au-
thority upon its supreme legislative department, subject to
only a few limitations; and it is worthy of remark that one
of these few restrictions is the positive prohibition of the
power to ‘do away episcopacy, or destroy the plan of our itin-
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 219

 

erant general superintendency. Again, our Church govern-
ment differs widely from other forms of episcopal régime.
Take the Protestant Episcopal, for instance. They claim a
divine right and an unbroken tactual succession of persons
as Bishops from the apostles. We hold that no such suc-
cession can be traced, or is necessary; that, on the contrary,
the true succession, instead of being personal, is that of
scriptural doctrine, experience, and practice, affirmed and
authorized by a regularly organized Christian Church for
the sole purpose of spreading and perpetuating the kingdom
of God over the world, and that thus we follow scriptural
analogy and the usage of the primitive Church. Expedi-
ency and practical utility combine with the great purpose
and early usages of the Church in sustaining our claim.

“Our system also recognizes its ministers as coming up
by nomination from its membership as distinguished from
its high officials. It in effect says, as did the apostles on a
memorable occasion, ‘Choose ye out seven men from among
yourselves whom we may appoint, etc. While no one in
our Church can be licensed to preach, or ordained to office,
without a regular examination and election emanating from
the Church, I believe a Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal
Church can ordain at his discretion.

“Another difference is, our whole economy is essentially
itinerant, our episcopacy is a general itinerancy—general,
not partial or local; a Bishop is such in every part of the
Church—has rights and functions equally regular and valid
everywhere; itinerant instead of local or diocesan. Like
his appointees, he must travel as well as preach and oversee
his charge. For a failure to discharge all these duties, or
any of them, he is subject to arrest and deposition. At
each General Conference the records of all the Annual
Conferences are critically examined; the action of these
bodies, and especially the decisions made on all questions
220 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

of law, carefully noted, and if disapproved are formally
reported, and may be the ground of trial and expulsion of
the Bishop presiding. Is it not right that under such re-
sponsihilities he should be allowed to select his advisers and
assistants in overseeing the charge intrusted to his hands?
Would not the change sought for so cripple and modify our
episcopacy as to create a serious obstacle to the etlicient
exercise of its power? So thought Asbury, Bruce, Mc
Kendree, and Soule, and a great majority in the Church,
South.

“During the pendency of this controversy a very impor-
tant point was raised, involving the question of settling a
constitutional law when the General Conference adopts and
persists in maintaining an act which the Bishops as firmly
hold to be unconstitutional, and therefore null and void.
For instance, the third article of the Constitution, on the
organization of a delegated general legislative body, thus
restricts and limits its action: ‘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.’ While it was admitted that these sus-
pended rules may not do away episcopacy, it was held
by Asbury, McKendree, Soule, and generally by our most
thoughtful Southern preachers, that in withdrawing the
presiding eldership from the aid and control of the Bishops
the harmonious and effective operation of our plan of itin-
erant general superintendency would be virtually destroyed,
and the power of the episcopacy crippled. Who was to de-
cide this issue? Ifthe Bishops persisted in exercising their
former authority, they could not enforce it against the An-
nual Conferences and the dominant party of the General
Conference. And it would be absurd, as well as anomalous,
for a delegated legislative body to sit in judgment upon the
constitutionality of their own enactments. Bishop McKen-
x.

BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 221

 

dree therefore determined to address a circular to each An-
nual Conference, and call upon them, as the original source
of delegated power, to determine the vexed question. This
course had been successfully resorted to in a previous case;
but fortunately, before the responses from the Annual Con-
ferences came, by the overwhelming majority of the General
Conference of 1828 these resolutions were annulled, and, let
us hope, forever settled.”
222 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

CHAPTER XXXII.

GENERAL CONFERENCE OF 1866—CHANGES Mapr—Lay
ELEMENT—NEW BISHOPS.

FTER his round of Conferences in the fall and winter

of 1865-66, he went to the General Conference which
met in New Orleans in April, 1866. This Conference gave
to the Church lay delegation. No wiser addition was
ever made to the life and energy of a Church organization.
While it increased the importance of the lay element in our
Church and added largely to its influence, it did not detract
in the least from the influence of the clergy. Dr. Palmer,
the distinguished Presbyterian minister of New Orleans,
who witnessed the whole proceeding spoke of it in the high-
est terms of commendation. He declared it to be an ex-
ample of the moral sublime, and that great good would re-
sult from utilizing this important element in the Church.
And his declaration has been found in all respects a true
prophecy. We could not now do without this important
element in our General Conference. It is conservative; it
is practical; it is eminently helpful. This change in our
Church polity met with the hearty approbation of Bishop
Paine. He was always progressive, as well as highly con-
servative. He was not impetuous. He belonged to that
class of ministers of whom the Apostle Paul was a type.
He was altogether unlike the impetuous Peter. He seldom
had to repent at leisure of what he had done in haste. His
sound judgment approved of a measure which would bring
to the front so much talent and so much piety, and which
for near three-quarters of a century had been suffered to lie
dormant. The change has worked as well as its most san-
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 228

 

guine friends could have anticipated. It was at this Con-
ference, amid great excitement and confusion, that he took
the chair at the earnest request of one of his colleagues
whose modesty had rendered him unequal to the task of
bringing order out of such confusion. He showed himself
every inch a Bishop. Combining mildness and dignity with
a power to command which few men have ever surpassed, he
soon restored order; and holding the reins with a firm and
steady hand, he caused the business to move on without a jar
to the end of the session. Said one eye-witness to the writer :
“T never saw authority wielded with such ease and such
perfect success in my life.” At this Conference the vener-
able Bishop Andrew asked to be relieved from active work.
He had been a Bishop thirty-four years. He had been
equal to every emergency. His purity of life had never
been surpassed in the history of the Church. He was a
saintly man. He had wielded a wide and pure influence in
his day. He had as little to regret as almost any man that
had filled the episcopal chair. His address asking to be re-
lieved deeply affected the Conference. They saw a grand
old hero retiring from the strife to rest on his arms. They
parted from him with tears of tenderest sympathy.

Then Bishop Early asked also to be placed in the same
relation. He chafed under the pressure of infirmities which
he could not resist. He did not wish to rest. He wanted
to work on and die in the field. But acting under the ad-
vice of his best and wisest friends, he retired regretting to
the last that the necessity was upon him. Then it became
necessary to elect four additional Bishops. William May
Wightman, of Alabama, then President of Greensboro Uni-
versity ; Enoch Mather Marvin, of Texas; David Seth Dog-
gett, of Virginia; and Holland Nimmons McTyeire, of
Alabama, were elected. These were all good men and true.
Marvin was the great evangelist. He encompassed the
224 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

globe and fell at last at his post, beloved and honored by
all. Doggett was the profound theologian and eloquent
pulpit orator; Wightman, the accomplished scholar, the
refined Christian gentleman, and the elegant writer; and
McTyeire was the great debater, the original thinker, the
superior parliamentarian and thorough ecclesiastical lawyer.
The last named is still active, laborious, and useful; the
others have all gone to their reward. Four better men
could not have been placed in this high and responsible of-
fice. They were all brave men, tried and true. They un-
derstood well the needs of the Church at this important
juncture, and went at once to work to build up the waste
places and rehabilitate a Church whose very existence had
been threatened. Bishop Paine was now the active Senior
Bishop. All confided in him. He had the perfect confi-
dence of his colleagues and of the whole Church. The
Episcopal College was strong, vigorous, active. Church
affairs progressed well. Doctors McFerrin and Sehon were
the active and popular Missionary Secretaries. The Church
moved. The Nashville Christian Advocate was committed
to Dr. Summers, and Dr. A. H. Redford was placed in
charge of the Book Concern. Soon prosperity succeeded
the terrible dearth produced by the war. The District
Conferences brought the Bishops more closely in contact
with the people. Gracious revivals of religion added many
new members to the Church. Old educational enterprises
were still carried forward, and new ones were undertaken.
Soon all fears subsided as to the permanency and success of
the Church. To no living man was this prosperity due
more than to Bishop Robert Paine. During the summer of
1866 he went all over the State of Mississippi preaching as
he went. He had great liberty and power. There were
many revivals and many converts. He preached at Vicks-
burg, Grenada, Holly Springs, Oxford, Jackson, Canton,
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 225

 

Crystal Springs, Hazlehurst, Beauregard, Weston, Brook-
haven, Brandon, and at many places in the country, in
churches and under arbors. Thus was the Church edified
and many sinners turned from darkness to light. He was
approaching the close of the sixty-seventh year of his labori-
ous life, and was never more active and never more useful.
Mourners were called, and then led to Christ and enabled
to rejoice in the forgiveness of sin and the witness of the
Holy Spirit. At one meeting there were forty converts, and
all along this preaching tour he was successful in winning
souls. At Corinth, Miss., he was again robbed, and on an-
other part of the route the train was derailed. Out of all
these perils he was brought by that special Providence in
which he so confidently trusted. Toward the close of the
year 1866 he presided at the Memphis Conference at Jack-
son, Tenn., the Mississippi Conference at Brookhaven, Miss.,
and the Louisiana Conference at Baton Rouge. A singular
legal question came up for episcopal decision at the Missis-
sippi Conference. It was this:

Can a member of the Conference accused of an offense alleged to
have been committed three years ago, and which has been rumored
and reported for more than two years but never dealt with according

“to law, be brought to trial in any other method than is provided for
in the Discipline of the Church? JAMES McLaurin,

H. H. Monteomery.
Brookhaven, 1866.

In reply to the above, I have to say that of course the method ot
trial in all cases must be according to the Discipline of the Church.

R. Pane.
December, 1868.

“Of course” the Bishop decided in favor of adhering to
the Discipline. This was the rule of his life. He followed
the old paths. Emulating his example, the ministers and
members of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, will
never depart from the letter or spirit of the Discipline. To

15
226 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

him the most alarming feature in the history of the times
was the disposition on the part of many to make some “new
departure” either in the doctrine or discipline of the Church.
“Let us keep our rules and follow our doctrines,” were the
great points to be observed throughout the Church. Let
all who are disposed to reject the one and neglect the other
remember that he never felt safe but in the observance of
both. Without servility he clung to the great standards of
Methodism ; let his sons in the gospel follow his footsteps.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 227

 

CHAPTER XXXIII.

SouTHERN UNniversiry—BisHop SouLr’s DrEaATH—MEMORIAL BY
BisHor PAINE.

ARLY in 1867 a meeting of the Board of Trustees was
held at Greensboro, Ala., to elect a President for the
Southern University to succeed Bishop Wightman. Bishop
Paine, who from the beginning had taken the deepest in-
terest in this institution, was present. Dr. L. C. Garland
was elected. He was present, and after mature consideration
declined the office. This was a great disappointment to the
friends of the university. Dr. Garland was at that time
connected with the University of Mississippi. He was a
man of the highest culture, and was well known in Alabama
as an educator inferior to none.

Immediately after his return home, on March 8th, the
Bishop learned that Bishop Soule had been called from labor
to reward. He enters in his diary just these words: “ Bishop
Soule reported dead. Great and good man—the noblest of
his race.” On Sunday, April 7th, he preached the memorial
discourse of Bishop Soule. As this is an excellent tribute
to one the story of whose life has never been told, I have
concluded to make it a part of the life of Bishop Paine. It
is very proper that these two great men should be thus in-
dissolubly joined. Let the wreath prepared by the hand of
Bishop Paine and placed upon the grave of his venerable
colleague be preserved here as a fitting memorial of both:

“At the request of this Church and congregation, I pur-
pose to devote this hour to a memorial discourse on the
character of the late Joshua Soule, Senior Bishop of the
Methodist Episcopal Church, South. The text suggested as
228 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D._

 

apposite to the occasion is Joshua xxiv. 31: ‘And Israel
served the Lord all the days of Joshua, and all the days of
the elders that overlived Joshua.’ ‘Know ye not that there
is a prince and a great man fallen this day in Israel?’ A
star of the first magnitude has set. After a long and brill
iant circuit of more than seventy years through our ecclesi-
astical hemisphere, Bishop Soule has calmly and majes-
tically sunk below the horizon, leaving the heavens still
glowing with the reflection of his radiant history. A name
familiar as a household word to every Methodist, and known
and honored throughout America and Europe as a leader
of one of the hosts of Israel, is stricken from the roll of the
living, and is transferred to the noble list of those who hay-
ing ‘fought the good fight’ are crowned by the great Captain
as victors forever. A truly great and useful man is, next
to divine grace, the richest and rarest gift of God to hu-
manity. And when these qualities are vigorously, and for
a long period, wielded in the discharge of the duties of a
high and holy office, why may not the children and friends
of Zion unite in solemn assembly to embalm and perpetuate
the memory by rehearsing the deeds of their venerated but
departed friend and father? Surelv he must be greatly de-
ficient in the feeling of reverence for exalted virtue, and
have a low standard of fiiendship and of affection, who
would not consent to mark the exit of such a man with an
appropriate expression of an appreciative memorial, and by
so doing give to a noble character its merited indorsement.
We honor ourselves in honoring the worthy dead. It is due
to the living, as well as to the departed. And while we
would jealously guard the pulpit from desecration by the
discussion of inappropriate subjects, and especially against
all falsely flattering eulogies of frail humanity, and in this
particular case are admonished as to the delicacy of the
task before us, by the well-known and oft-repeated feelings
BISHOP OF THE M. E, CHURCH, SOUTH. 229

 

of the deceased against ostentatious obsequies and unde-
served panegyrics, both in funerals and biographies, and
do freely admit that all excesses of this kind violate both
good taste and gospel simplicity, yet are we equally confi-
dent that neither is infracted by a calm and truthful por-
traiture of the lives and deaths of the truly exemplary and
devoted servants of God. The Bible is full of such memori-
als, and even our blessed Redeemer himself paused to por-
tray the character of his beloved and stern forerunner.
Prompted both by affection and piety, by our respect for
exalted virtue, and by the feeling which yearns to perpetu-
ate the memory of the loved and the lost, and which in-
stinctively recoils against consigning to cold oblivion the
names and deeds which deserve imperishable remembrance,
we meet to-day to lay our simple wreath of heart-felt Chris-
tian sympathy and hallowed respect on the tomb of Bishop
Soule.

“Joshua Soule was the fifth son of Joshua and Mary Soule,
and was born August 1, 1781, in Bristol, Maine, then a
province of Massachusetts. His grandfather was a descend-
ant of George Soule, one of the Pilgrim fathers who came
from England in the Mayflower. His father was for thirty
years the captain of a vessel, and only ceased to follow a
sea-faring life upon the loss of his vessel during the Rev-
olutionary war. Agriculture was his employment after-
ward. He and his wife were members of the Old Kirk, or
Scotch Presbyterian Church.

“Joshua Soule was from his early youth remarkable for
his sedateness—‘ fearing the Lord.’ He read his Bible much;
was impressed with its holy truths, and never in his life
swore an oath. Profanity always horrified him. He never
knew the taste of whisky; and what is still more remark-
able, swine’s flesh was never used at his father’s table, nor
eaten by his son during his long life.
230 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

“The laborious‘and indomitable Jesse Lee, about 1793,
visited that part of New England, and was the first Meth-
odist preacher young Joshua ever heard. Under the min-
istry of Lee, Thomas Cope, the two Hulls, Philip Wagger, and
other Methodist preachers, he became enlightened and awak-
ened, abandoned the stringent Calvinistic dogmas of the Old
Kirk school, and earnestly sought for divine forgiveness. A
peculiarity of his religious history is that he could never
state the exact hour or day of his conversion; he knew the
week during which his burdened soul experienced relief, but
could not name the exact time when this great event oc-
curred. After a severe mental struggle, he received the
‘witness of the Spirit’ while praying in secret in the morn-
ing before sunrise, and then and there became conscious of
his acceptance with God. This inward witness and sense of
divine favor he retained to the end of his life. After due
examination as to doctrines, and prayerful consideration of
his duty, he resolved to join the Methodist Church, but was
violently opposed by his parents and friends. Finally, how-
ever, by his prudence and piety he induced his father to
hear and examine into the doctrines taught by the Meth-
odist preachers; and the result was the conversion of his
parents and their uniting with him in the Methodist Church.
Henceforth his father’s house became a home for the
preachers, and a stated place of preaching. These events
cecurred in the spring of 1797.

“In 1798 he was licensed to preach, recommended for the
itinerancy, and traveled under the presiding elder that year.
In June, 1799, he was admitted on trial in the New En-
gland Conference, and with Timothy Merritt, as his colleague,
traveled Portland Circuit. In 1800 he was alone on Union
River Circuit. In 1801 his appointment was near Cape
Cod. He was ordained deacon at the close of his second
year, by Bishop Whatcoat, and at the end of his fourth year
BISHOP OF THE M. E, CHURCH, SOUTH. 231

 

the same Bishop ordained him elder. In 1803, and while
filling his fifth year’s work, he was married to Miss Sarah
Allen, in Providence, Rhode Island, with whom he spent
fifty-four years of married happiness, and who, in 1857,
went before him to paradise.

“In 1805 he was made a presiding elder, and his energy,
fidelity, and great administrative talents became so obvious
as to lead to his continuance in that office with the excep-
tion of one year when he was stationed in Lynn, Mass., until
1816, when he was made Book Agent and editor of the
Methodist Magazine by the General Conference. He was a
member of the General Conference of 1808, held in Bal-
timore, and drew up the constitution which still stands as
such in the Discipline, and is a monument of his wisdom.
His responsibilities and embarrassments as agent and ed-
itor were very great. Almost every thing was needed, and
yet he not only saved the ‘Concern’ from bankruptcy, or-
ganized and systematized the Publishing House and placed
it upon a sure basis, but edited with remarkable ability the
Magazine as well as the various books which were brought
out under his supervision. Upon the expiration of four
years—at the General Conference of 1820—he was elected
Bishop of the Church, but declined to accept the office.
This refusal to receive consecration as a Bishop was owing
to the adoption of certain changes in the economy of the
Church which he regarded as unconstitutional, tending to
render the episcopacy inefficient, and destroy the whole
itinerant system. Regarding the action of the General
Conference in the premises as subversive of the consti-
tutional division of powers, infringing upon the powers and
privileges of the episcopacy to such an extent that it would
be impossible to carry out effectually ‘the plan of our itiner-
ant general superintendency,’ he felt constrained to state to
the General Conference his views of their action, and to
232 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

decline consecration. Many leading and excellent members
of the body, and several of the Bishops, had favored the
action—as a peace measure—i.e., to satisfy the radicalism of
the Northern representatives of the Church, and much sur-
prise and dissatisfaction was expressed at his course. But
sustained by his own clear convictions of right and duty, as
well as by the concurrence of the senior Bishop, McKendree,
and many of the Southern and Western delegates,-he rested
satisfied in his own sense of duty discharged. He preferred
a good conscience to office.

“Tn the interval between 1820 and 1824 he was stationed
in the cities of New York and Baltimore. It was in May,
1824, at the General Conference held in Baltimore, that the
speaker first formed his acquaintance. At this Conference
he was again elected to the episcopal office; and as the ob-
jectionable action of the last General Conference had become
unpopular and could not be reénacted after its suspension
for the past-four years, many of those who originally favored
the ‘suspended resolutions’ had changed their views, he felt
it his duty no longer to withhold his consent, and was or-
dained Bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church.

“Prior and up to the session of 1844, Bishop Soule had
been the leading spirit of the episcopacy. His travels and
labors extended over all sections of the United States, and
he was admired and revered wherever he went. His min-
istry was in demonstration of the Spirit and with power.
He presided with consummate dignity and ease in the An-
nual and General Conferences, maintained the integrity and
efficiency of the discipline of the Church both by his pre-
cepts and example, watched over every interest of every
section of the Church with untiring zeal, and had the high-
est confidence and esteem of the great body of citizens as
well as Christians throughout the land. But when the ma-
jority of the General Conference of 1844 determined te
BISHOP OF THE M. E, CHURCH, SOUTH. 233

 

overleap the barriers of the law and constitution of the
Church by virtually deposing Bishop Andrew without
charges or form of trial—by a simple resolution declaring
him, in his official character, unacceptable to the Church in
consequence of his connection with slavery by his marriage
with a lady owning a few slaves—he threw himself as pacifi-
cator into the path of the tempest, and endeavored to preserve
the unity of the Church by postponing action on the subject
until the voice of the Church could be heard. All his col-
leagues at first joined him in the effort; but it was soon
found that nothing could avert extreme measures. The
majority rushed to consummate their purpose, and the mi-
nority were obliged to seek redress in a separation from their
former relations. -After the question of separation had been
fairly submitted to the Southern Church according to the
plan agreed upon by a large majority of the General Con-
ference, and acting under the provisions of that plan, the
convention was held and the Southern Methodist Episco-
pal Church was organized in 1846 in Petersburg, Va.
Bishop Soule adhered to it, as he had a right to do un-
der that compact, and began the exercise of his office as
a Bishop in our Church. Rising superior to early prej-
udices, to local and: personal attachments, to every selfish
and inferior consideration, deliberately and with a degree
of moral sublimity of principle seldom equaled, he united
himself with the weaker party—took up his residence amidst
strangers, and freely and fully identified himself with the
fortunes of the Southern Church. He planted himself upon
the constitution he had reported, and which had been adopted
thirty-six years previously, and upon that altar laid himself
as a sacrifice to principle. With him, as with others, it was
not attachment to slavery, as has often been asserted, but
devotion to constitutional law, to equal rights, and to the
integrity of Church compacts. He never did and never
234 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

would own a slave. But he was the Bishop of the whole
Church, and when it was divided he felt bound to stand by
the right, if it was the weak side. Noble, heroicman! Never
shall we forget the scene when he announced his resolution
to immolate himself upon the altar of the constitution and
abide by the fate of his Southern brethren. We all know
how he has demeaned himself since then; how—although
the senior Bishop of the college, aged, and often and in
various ways deeply afilicted—he has kept in the front rank
in planning and laboring for the Church.
“The parallelism between Joshua, the heroic son of Nun,
_and our departed Bishop is remarkable. For many long
and trying years the trusted friend and faithful minister of
Moses, whose fidelity and courage on one occasion sought to
save his people from a great error and consequent calamities;
who upon the death of Moses became his successor and the
successful leader of Israel, and the founder and honored
ruler of an empire established by his wisdom and courage;
who was the connecting link between the old and the new
dynasties, and whose long, laborious, and useful life closed
at last amidst the tears and regrets of the whole nation—
such a life is remarkably similar to the history of our lately
departed Bishop. Both of them were singularly and di-
vinely adapted to the tasks imposed upon them by the prov-
idence of God; both were raised up to meet the great emer-
gencies of their times, and were faithful in all their high
and holy trusts; both were rulers in Israel, long spared to
go in and come out among their respective charges; and both
were brave, firm of heart, and of great common sense and
devoted piety. The parallelism also holds good in their
deaths as in their lives. Both lived amidst the increasing
veneration of their respective generations, and both died
resigned and prepared amidst the regrets of their peoples,
leaving them the rich legacy of exalted principles illustrated
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 235

 

by noble and useful deeds. And may we not fondly hope,
while we devoutly pray, that as the influence of the former
was effective, all his days and all the days of the elders that
overlived him, in leading Israel to fear and serve God, even
a people so deficient in knowledge and moral stability, so
the influence of our beloved and honored Joshua will never
be lost upon our Christian people, but that it will increase as
time advances, and be permanent as the Church itself. The
architect of a pure and noble life is posterity’s greatest ben-
efactor, for he erects a monument which marks the way and
guides the steps of a hundred generations through the wilder-
ness of life to glory and to God.

“The person of Bishop Soule was imposing. He was
about six feet high; his breast broad and deep; his head ex-
traordinarily large—so large that he was obliged to have a
block made specially for the manufacture of his hats; his
cheek-bones wide; his forehead high; his mouth and chin
expressive of firmness; his eyes deeply set, beaming with
intellect, bespeaking decision, and overhung with a massive
brow fringed with long and heavy eyebrows and lashes
whose motions indicated unmistakably his feelings. His
whole physical structure was perfectly developed, evincing
great muscular power and capabilities of action and endur-
ance. The whole exterior man was impressive and con-
manding—a fit temple for the noble soul that inhabited it!
His manner appeared to strangers reserved, but always
courtly and dignified. Vice and folly stood abashed in his
presence; he seemed intuitively to read the character of
men, and was a terror to the lazy and unfaithful young
preachers who came before him in the examination of their
characters at the Annual Conferences. His articulation
was slow and distinct; his voice a deep baritone, singularly
sonorous and finely modulated. While preaching his erect
attitude, few and significant gesticulations, his rich, deep-
236 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

y

toned and musical voice, his perfect self-command, combined
with his profound thoughts and associated in the minds of
the auditory with the grandeur and goodness of’ the speaker,
imparted to his ministry a sublime moral power. All felt
that he had authority to speak for God, for his walk and
conversation were in heaven; that he had a right to ‘re-
prove, rebuke, and exhort’ saints and sinners, for his whole
life was blameless; and that if any man had he certainly
had the right to counsel and warn the Church to whose ex-
clusive welfare he had unreservedly devoted his whole en-
ergies and means through a long, laborious, and eventful life.
We do not know what advantages he derived from early
education, nor the extent of his subsequent literary attain-
ments. Weare aware that he became an itinerant preacher
at seventeen years of age, and that for several years his
work required long and fatiguing rides through a new and
rough country, where, the presumption is, he had but limited
‘access to books and but little time to devote to them. But
we do know that he studied the ancient languages and the
great English classics, with which he retained familiarity to
the last. He wrote and spoke with much correctness, force,
and frequently with elegance. Judging from the ability
he displayed as an editor of books and the Magazine, his
published essays and sermons, he was a good scholar in all
the departments of learning pertaining to his official duties,
both of the pulpit and the press. His private letters to his
old and devoted friend Bishop McKendree, of which we
have read and now have in our possession a great many
specimens, display his mental and moral peculiarities very
clearly. Even his handwriting, so bold, uniform, and free
from blots and errors, symbolizes the man. Indeed, how-
ever different and difficult the tasks which his varied and
eventful life imposed upon him, he was always found equal
to their proper performance. Whether as a manager of a
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 237

 

great and complicated enterprise, as preacher, editor, finan-
cier, or Bishop, he never failed of high success. And thus
he stood the true test of real greatness. We do not pretend
that he exceeded all others in all or either of these partic-
ulars, and we disclaim for him the fascinating faculty of
high imaginative power; but we do claim that in masculine
strength of intellect, in wide range and grand grasp of
thought, in clearness, boldness, and force of expression, as
well as in purity, dignity, and consistency of a long and use-
ful life, few have ever surpassed him. God made him fora
leader and commander of the people, and grace made him a
great captain in Israel.

“Tf it may be allowed us to enter into the sanctuary of
his social and domestic relations, we can bear testimony,
from an intimate acquaintance of more than forty years,
that socially he was eminently agreeable. He was simple
in his tastes and habits, kind and sympathizing in his
feelings; and while exacting upon himself as to all his own
duties, and firm in requiring of others, especially of preachers,
a strict compliance with all the obligations involved in their
official vows—yet even when in obedience to the decisions
of the Conferences he has been compelled to administer a
public reproof to an unfortunate delinquent, we have heard
his voice quaver with emotion and have seen the tears stream
down his face. The stern, cast-iron man was gentle and
tender as a loving mother at heart. He indulged no en-
mities or rivalries; no envy nor self-complacent airs of supe-
riority; no ambition, no low greed of gain; no hankering
for luxury and ease. Through life, and to the very last,
willing—yea, anxious—to labor and, if need be, die in his
beloved Master’s work.

“The friendship of such a soul might be expected to be
true and hearty. He had no trouble with his colleagues.
He respected and loved them all, But there was a warmth
238 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

and cordiality of esteem and love between himself and
Bishop McKendree which was beautiful. It transcended

the love of Jonathan and David. In his conjugal relation.

he was happy. A helpmeet in every respect was his wife;
and so fully was she imbued with his feelings, and so con-
fident that in his long and frequent absences from his family
he was but doing his duty, that she strove as best she could
to supply the want of his domestic influence by untiring
devotion to the interest of their large family. She was a
fit partner for her noble husband. All who knew them can
attest how happily they lived together, and how deeply he
felt her loss when in 1857 she was called away.

“His election and consecration to the episcopal office oc-
curred, as already stated,in 1824, and he immediately there-
after left his family, then residing in Baltimore, and taking
a wide range of Conferences in those sections of the country
where the inconveniences and difficulties of traveling were
the greatest, he traversed the North-west, the West, and
South, visiting the Indian tribes on our western border, and
so fully devoted his time to his official work that he was
absent from his family eleven months in the year. And
this is a fair sample of his labors for many successive years.
So thoroughly given up was he to his high and holy work
that when from excessive labor and exposure it became im-
possible for him to endure the fatigue of traveling on land,
he volunteered to visit California, and actually did so when
his friends thought he would die on the way. His reply to
remonstrances against the journey was: ‘I shall start, sir,
and would as soon be buried in the Pacific Ocean as in
Westminster Abbey.’ Indeed, such was his love of the
ocean—having inherited from his father a fondness for the
dark bluesea—that many of us suspected that he, like Dr.
Coke, preferred to make the coral bed his tomb.

“Tt need scarcely be said that he was a model Bishop.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 239

 

He combined every quality for the office. His thorough ac-
quaintance with the organic laws of the Church, with its
history and legislation—having been a member of every
General Conference since 1804—‘his giant intellect, the
depth and breadth of his learning, the sincerity, simplicity,
and steadfastness of his Christian faith, the purity of his
life, his untiring zeal, his indomitable perseverance’ and in-
corruptible integrity, all united to fit him for the office.
And above all, his love to Christ, and his unreserved ded-
ication of soul and body, time and talents, to his beloved
Methodism as the means of ‘spreading scriptural holiness
over these lands,’ gave earnestness, sublimity, and success to
his labors as a divinely appointed episcopos.

“Bishop Soule’s thorough acquaintance with ecclesiastical
history, and especially with the history, laws, and usages of
Methodism; his familiarity with the rules of order governing
deliberative bodies; his wonderful self-possession and strict
impartiality, adapted him to the office of president of the
Conferences. And then his courteous, dignified, and deeply
impressive manner most admirably fitted him for the chair.
In the stationing council—or, as it is frequently called the
Bishops cabinet—where the utmost patience, prudence, and
impartiality are demanded, and where sound judgment and
great firmness should be blended with true love for the
Church and sympathy for the preachers and their families,
he was preéminently qualified to preside. And it is pre-
sumed that in the tens of thousands of appointments made
by him during more than forty years of his episcopacy, no
one ever deliberately believed that Bishop Soule had given
him his appointment, however hard and inconvenient it
might have been, from any other motive than the glory of
God and the good of the Church. For more than twenty
years we have traveled over the fields of his operations, have
tracked his paths from the Atlantic to the far West among
240 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

the Indian tribes, and everywhere we have found his name
a tower of strength, and his memory an inspiration and a
blessing to the preachers and members. And now that full
of years and honors he has slowly sunk to the grave, the
millions of Methodists throughout the world are exclaiming,
‘Know ye not that a prince and a great man has fallen in
Israel?’ while we of the Church, South, especially realize
the bereavement, and are constrained to say, Our heroic and
faithful leader, our brave and noble Joshua, has fallen in
front of our host.

“Such is our feeble and imperfect memorial of the great
and good Bishop Soule, one whom we have long regarded,
taken in the entireness of his history, as the noblest specimen
of our humanity we have ever known. That such a man,
after seventy years of uninterrupted and entire consecration
to the noblest ends that ever the mind conceived, should die
prepared and resigned, might be reasonably expected. And
thus it was. For many years he was a great sufferer. Rheu-
matism, asthma, and erysipelas alternately tortured him.
We remember to have overtaken him traveling with his
faithful wife in a little wagon from Lebanon, Ohio, to the
city of Baltimore, to attend the General Conference in 1840.
Unable to sit up or lie down, and the cover of the vehicle
being too low to allow him to stand up, he performed the
entire journey upon his knees. It was the only way he
could get there, and the interest of the Church required his
attendance, and he went. Indeed, long after other good and
great men would have ceased to travel, and would have re-
tired from active and extended labors, like his blessed and
beloved predecessors, Asbury and McKendree, his indomit-
able will and love of God and his cause bore him onward
amidst suffering and privations. But ‘worn by slowly roll-
ing years,’ and borne down by increasing infirmities of
eighty-six years, his end at last drew near. Bishop McTyeire,
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. ° 241

 

Dr. Summers, Dr. Green, and others, had the privilege of
visiting and witnessing the exit of the patriarch—gathered
like the head men and captains of the tribes of Israel of old
around the couch of the dying Joshua. Such was the life,
character, and death of one of the purest and noblest of
earth. May we emulate his virtues, that our end may be
like his, and join him at last where there is no death, sep-
aration, or sorrow!”
16
242 -LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

STILL WoRKING—DEPRESSED—SICK—Unconscious For Monrus
—PRovVIDENTIAL RECOVERY—RENEWED PREACHING WITH
Power.

FTER attending the Bishops’ meeting in Nashville, he

visited the old homestead in Giles county, Tennessee.
There he stood once more by the graves of his father and
mother, and many other loved ones. His reflections were
just such as would be indulged by a pious son while stand-
ing over the sacred dust of parents he loved so well. Aft-
er preaching in Pulaski he started late at night, on the
train, for hishome. At Decatur he came near being killed;
but God preserved him, as he still had much work for him
to do. During the entire spring and summer months he
was busily engaged in attending District Conferences in
Mississippi and Tennessee. He was not at all well. But
he did not stop. He was hardly at home for three days at
a time, from May till October. He held District Confer-
ences at’ Brownsville, Trenton, and near Somerville, Ten-
nessee. Then he visited, officially, Holly Springs, Verona,
Water Valley, Vicksburg, Jackson, and Natchez, Missis-
sippi.

In October he held the Tennessee Annual Conference
at Clarksville, and the Colored Conference at Jackson,
Tennessee. He also held the Mississippi Conference at
Natchez, and the Louisiana Conference at New Orleans.
He had now been more than twenty years a Bishop, and
fifty years a preacher. For a half century his life had been
spent in constant labor in the Master’s vineyard; yet he
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 243

 

does not rest. The Master’s voice calls him, and in spite
of debility and pain, and often of severe sickness, he still
goes. Conscience, duty, the Master’s voice, rise infinitely
above all earthly anxieties or pleasure. Bishop Paine, amid
his “care of all the churches,” had much to depress him
in his private affairs. From no fault of his he had become
oppressed by debts which he never contracted. This was
a sore affliction to him. His mind became disturbed. He
was sleepless. He suffered much with his head. He was
deeply conscientious and thoroughly just. He had large
planting in‘erests that demanded his attention in order that
he might relieve himself from the burden of a large debt
which he felt bound to pay. Still he could not neglect his
duty to the Church.

In April, 1868, he started to Louisville, Kentucky, to
attend a meeting of the Bishops. He was suffering so that
his daughter, Miss Ludie—now Mrs. John H. Scruggs—
thought it her duty to go with him. On arriving at Nash-
ville he was much worse. He could go no farther. The
brave, loving daughter determined that it would be best to
return home. With the help of kind friends he was placed
on the cars. When they arrived at Tuscumbia, Alabama,
on May 12, he became unconscious. She determined to
convey him home. Upon their arrival he knew nothing.
He did not recognize his own dear, devoted wife, nor the
faithful daughter whose courage and fidelity had accom-
plished what few women would have attempted. From
the 14th of May to the 26th of July, he lay utterly uncon-
scious. He did not recognize his best friends. He seemed
utterly mindless. The family were in the deepest sorrow.
The Church mourned. Prayer for his recovery was offered
in all places of public worship, around many family al-
tars, and in thousands of closets. He was visited by many
of the preachers and other devoted friends, and all said,
244 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

“His work is done.” I was just on the eve of visiting
him; he had been my teacher, friend, associate for nine
years. The Rev. W. C. Johnson came to see me. He was
just from the Bishop’s bedside. He said to me: “Do not
go. He will not recognize you. He knows nothing. His
mind seems entirely gone. I am sorry that I went.” So
taking the advice of this excellent man, I did not go. I
was then writing sketches of Pioneer Methodist Educators,
and prepared for the Memphis Advocate, then edited by Dr.
Johnson, an elaborate account of Bishop Paine as an edu-
cator, and placed him where he belonged, as one of the
greatest pioneer educators of the Church. Dr. Johnson
published the article with appropriate comments. He stat-
ed the Bishop’s dangerous and almost hopeless condition,
and called upon the Church to unite in earnest prayer for
his recovery. In this helpless, unconscious state his faith-
ful wife never lost all hope. She waited and watched and
prayed, and hoped even against hope.

The following letter from Bishop Paine gives a full ac-
count of this mysterious sickness. It was so remarkable
that I doubt not the letter will be read with the greatest
interest. It exhibits the same facts found in his diary, but
as they are much more minutely narrated in the letter, it
is given to the reader just as it came from his hand:

I have had a strong desire to write you a long letter ever since
my recovery from my illness, but, from one cause and another, have
deferred it until now. The sympathy manifested for me in my af-
fliction by brethren and friends throughout the country has deeply
impressed me, and I desire to express my heart-felt gratitude for it.
My illness and recovery were alike strange. The doctors attribute
the former to exhaustion, caused by overtaxing my strength; and
they may be right. I had labored almost constantly since our last
General Conference. On horseback, in stages and hacks, as well as
by railroads, I had been attending district meetings—losing rest and
sleep, and on several occasions riding on horseback through drench-
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 245

 

ing rains, many miles. Last summer and fall my health gave way
yet I still persisted to meet my engagements. In April I suffered
a sudden and violent attack while riding alone to fill an appointment.
I became entirely oblivious, and found myself lying on the road,
having fallen precipitately. I, however, got up stunned and bruised,
resumed my trip, and filled my appointment. This was followed
with considerable debility, and an incessant pain in my head. In
this condition I started to Louisville, Kentucky, to attend the meet-
ing of Bishops. My indisposition increased, and I reached Winches-
ter, Tennessee, in great pain. Here I was constrained to preach,
which greatly aggravated my sufferings. At Nashville I found my-
self utterly unable to proceed, and but for the very kind hospitality
of Brother Fite and his wife, and the medical skill of Drs. Martin
and Maddin, must have had the attack which ensued immediately
upon getting back home.

At midnight of May 12 I reached home, and from that time until
July 26 there is a perfect blank in my memory. When I became
conscious of my condition, I was utterly prostrated in strength, my
nervous system in great disorder, and my mind in some degree sym-
pathizing with my physical condition. My restoration to conscious-
ness was nearly as sudden as the attack. Friends and physicians
gave me up. Some came from a distance to attend my burial, and
my death was currently reported. God raised me up in answer to
the prayers of the Church. His agents were the tenderest and best
of nurses, who never left my bedside, and the most skillful medical
attention by Dr. Lowe. To God be all honor and praise. To
them, and to all who felt and prayed for me, I hereby tender my
earnest gratitude. Throughout this whole affliction, I have suffered
no uneasiness nor doubts as to my eternal destiny. All was calm and
peaceful. My large and helpless family and security responsibilities
alone gave me anxiety. And in addition to these, the apprehension
that I would never be able to preach the gospel or write a line again
caused the keenest and most depressing agony I ever felt. For I
was told my work was done, and that if my life should be prolonged
I could never labor again. What a privilege to preach and do good!
I am now recovering health and strength, and do most devoutly re.
consecrate myself, my all, to Him “who loved me and gave himself
for me.” I am told that my illness was typhoid fever of a severe
form. Whatever it was, I thank God he has brought me off without
any permanent physical or mental deprivation.
246 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

I think I have learned some important lessons. One is, that
preachers, as well as others, should take care of their health, and not
tax mind or body too heavily.

Iam anxious to resume my labors—tried to preach a little last
Sunday; but my physician and friends say I must not yet fatigue
mind or body. But I hope to be in the field again shortly, and do
what I can for the souls of my fellow-men. God bless the Church
and give her great prosperity. R. Pane.

P.S.—During my sickness and convalescence, a great many let-
ters were received which I could not answer, and my correspondents
will please accept this explanation.

Aberdeen, Miss., Sept. 24, 1868.

On Wednesday, May 13, he enters in his diary, “De-
pressed and sick.” Then he writes on July 26: “Became
conscious. Remember no one who visited me nor any thing
since May 14. My faithful wife nursed me all the time
with the utmost care and tenderness. To my God I owe
my recovery. I devote myself anew to his service.”

On September 20, Sunday, he was able to preach. His
subject was, “The daughter of Jairus.” He felt that his
own recovery was almost as miraculous as the restoration
of the daughter of Jairus. His talk was full of tenderness
and gratitude. He was happy. He thanked God that he
was able to preach again. On the first Sunday in October
he preached for the first time in Aberdeen. On this occa
sion he had great liberty. He was full of the Holy Ghost.
His subject was, “He that hath this hope purifieth him-
self.” He was at no loss for words. He seemed almost
inspired. He had not preached with so much power for
years. The news went through the land. He was like one
risen from the dead. His mind seemed to have undergone
a wonderful transformation. He united the wisdom of age
with the vigor of youth. His old friends listened with won-
der and admiration and great spiritual profit. Dr. J. B.
McFerrin said to the writer: “I have never known such a
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 247

 

change; I call it a resurrection.”. Andit was. He became
more subjective. He testified. He “got happy,” and ex-
pressed his joy in well-chosen words. When the memora-
ble 9th of October came it found him rejoicing still in
pardoning and sustaining grace which he had enjoyed for
fifty-one years. He never forgot that Sabbath afternoon,
October 9, 1817, at Davis Brown’s, Giles county, Tennessee,
when he was so happily converted toGod. Then on Novem-
ber 12 he writes: “ My birthday—sixty-nine. Thank God!
O to be thankful, holy, and useful!” The only Confer-
ence held by him this year was the Colored Conference
which he held in Memphis. This was before the organiza-
tion of the Colored Methodist Episcopal Church. He took
the greatest possible interest in the colored race, as he had
done all his life, and strongly counseled their separate or-
ganization. He was now employing all his spare time on
the “Life of Bishop McKendree.” This was with him a
labor of love. He had been collecting and arranging ma-
terials for years. He determined to make the work worthy
of the man who, next to Asbury, had been the chosen in-
strument in planting Methodism in America. That he did
so has been the universal verdict of the readers of the “ Life
and Times of William McKendree, Bishop of the Method-
ist Episcopal Church.” Of this biography Dr. Thomas O.
Summers says:

“The General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal
Church, South, at its session in Columbus, Georgia, May,
1854, requested Bishop Paine to write the biography of
Bishop McKendree. The Conference was happy in its
selection of a biographer of the venerable Bishop. Dr.
Paine was for many years intimately associated with
Bishop McKendree; he traveled with him thousands of
miles, frequently heard him preach, assisted him in the
preparation of his addresses to the General and Annual
248 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

Conferences, and other important papers; he was familiar
with all’ his views of the constitution and polity of the
Methodist Episcopal Church, and gave his cordial indorse-
ment; he was, though comparatively young, the particular,
confidential friend of the Bishop, and entertained for him
the most devoted affection and veneration and he still cher-
ishes for his memory as a son in the gospel the most profound
regard. He was thus eminently qualified to write his biog-
raphy. Bishop Paine was a member of every General Con-
ference from 1824 to 1844, at which session the Church
was provisionally divided. He was consequently acquaint-
ed with the leading men of the Church, and whose charac-
ters are appropriately and impartially sketched in these
volumes. In this work will be found a history of the
Methodist Episcopal Church down to the time of the death
of Bishop McKendree, as he was identified with its principal
movements from the beginning. Bishop Paine has wisely
allowed Bishop McKendree to be to a very great extent
his own biographer, having made great use of his diary,
journals, and other manuscripts. These extracts exhibit
the devotion and zeal of Bishop McKendree and his asso-
ciates. The work is thus of immense value to their successors
in the ministry, who, it is hoped, will be stimulated by its
perusal to reproduce the self-sacrificing spirit and labor of
those holy men.”

A man more capable of judging of the importance
and value of this work our Church has never produced.
Dr. Summers was learned, impartial, just, and yet fully
appreciative. The Bishop had not rushed this work
through the press. He had been in no hurry. He was
now revising and giving to the biography his last finish-
ing touches. He had read to me portions of the work in
1856, and would possibly have published it at an earlier
period but for the terrible war of four years through which
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 249

 

we had just passed. The work was presented to the public
in two large duodecimo volumes in the year 1869. In it
the reader will find great variety and much instruction.
His narrative is easy, his descriptions vivid, his portraitures
of character strikingly life-like, his spirit catholic, and his
reflections wise and pious. We can truly say that he put
forth his full strength as a writer on these volumes, and
that they need no eulogy. They speak for themselves.
250 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

CHAPTER XXXV.

FINIsHING THE Lire oF Bishop McKENDREE—HA4RD AT WoRK—
Growine OLD GRACEFULLY.

T was in the year 1869 that the Life of Bishop McKendree
was finished. For the first three or four months the
Bishop was writing most laboriously. He was so busy that
for days and days he simply entered in his diary: “ Writ-
ing, writing.” Then he determined to edit his own work.
He staid months in Nashville superintending the publica-
tion, and reading the proofsheets. This kept him very busy.
He did not forget, however, his holy calling. He went to
many places in the country contiguous to Nashville and
preached. He was often with Dr. A. L. P. Green, whose
company he most richly enjoyed. With the officials at the
Publishing House his intercourse was exceedingly pleasant.
Dr. A. H. Redford, who was then the Agent, was kind and
attentive; so that the heavy labor of bringing out the two
volumes was greatly mitigated by the social and religious
enjoyments. He also visited many of the neighboring
towns and preached. He was at Franklin, Gallatin, Pu-
laski, Rogersville, and Athens, Tennessee, and at Tuscum-
bia and Huntsville, Alabama. He also held the Tennessee
Conference at Murfreesboro, and the Colored Conference
at Nashville. He was now seventy years old. On the an-
niversary of his birth he says: “My seventieth birthday.
Thanks for so many mercies during so many years. Eter-
nal praise to the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost!
May my old age be holy, useful, and serene.”
He had been preaching fifty-two years, and a presiding
Bishop, traveling at large, twenty-three years. Hedid not
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 251

 

become morose. He grew old beautifully. To him there
was no dead-line until he reached the goal. He was hope-
ful as to the prospects of the Church and the country. He
did not worry or weary his friends with bitter complaints.
God had been merciful. The Church was appreciative and
devoted. The preachers gave him their confidence and love.
His family looked up to him as the grandest of men, the
best of husbands, and the most unselfish of fathers. His
old age was coming on, but he hardly seemed to know it.
He was active. He sought opportunities to do good. He
talked to the children. He held District Conferences; took
full work with his colleagues in attending the Annual Con-
ferences. He was always and everywhere welcome. He
was bright. His wit was often pungent, and he would
often indulge in innocent humor. His memory was stored
with incidents, entertaining and “good to the use of edify-
ing.” He did not seem to be more than fifty years old.
His step was quick, his eyes bright, his memory active, his
voice strong and clear, and both in mind and body he
seemed to be in the maturity of his powers. He was a
beautiful example to preachers growing old. It is a noto-
rious fact that old preachers often outlive their usefulness.
They become bitter. The world is all going wrong. The
Church is backslidden. They are not appreciated. Like
an old worn-out horse, they are turned out on the commons
to die. Young men have supplanted them. Sermons that
they once preached with great power and acceptability now
fall on deaf ears, and cold and unfeeling hearts. All this
is true,and more. But what is the cause? They are them-
selves to blame. They fail because they cease to study.
They elaborate no new sermons. They depend upon the
old barrel which they have been turning over for a quarter
ofa century. They never look at the bright side of things.
Unfitted by long habit for any business pursuits, and unfit-
252 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

ted by their own want of study for giving interest to the
“old, old story,” they spend their time in looking after
evils, in hunting up trouble, in anticipating ruin to the
Church, in finding fault with the young, in fretting and
scolding, and thus have themselves alone to reproach for
their present sad condition. Because of these facts there is
a dead-line, and few pass over it and retain their vigor, their
acceptability, and their usefulness. Said an excellent man
to me: “I don’t know what is to become of us. The peo-
ple in this country do not wish to hear a man preach who
has passed his fiftieth birthday. After that we have to be
laid on the shelf.”’ Why is this? It is not true of the
learned professions, A doctor or lawyer is in his prime at
fifty. The most of the judges of our high courts are se-
lected because of their age and experience, and not because
of their youthful vigor. Lawyers and doctors do not think
of retiring from practice, nor does their practice leave them
because of their infirmities of old age, when the light burden
of only fifty years is upon them. At the age of seventy
Bishop Paine did not think of laying off the harness. His
seventieth year was one of the most active of his active life.
He was writing, correcting proof-sheets, traveling, presiding,
making appointments, and preaching the word. His preach-
ing was never more acceptable or more powerful. Since his
long sickness his mind seemed to have undergone a radical
change. He had no lack of words, choice and expressive.
He seldom made a failure. He had his subjects always
well in hand. Instead of crossing a dead-line, he seemed
to have passed into a world of greater life. His imagina-
tion was more regular, and its creations were of the highest
order of poetic thought. His words came unbidden. His
passion glowed. His preaching was full of rich experience.
It was more subjective. It welled up from a heart full of
love and strong faith. In social life he became, if possible,
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 23

 

still more attractive than he had ever been. His freedom
from all asperity, his playful and yet innocent mirth, his
entire freedom from sour godliness, and all this sustained by
a character of spotless purity, upon which the flight of sev-
enty years had left not one stain, made him the welcome
guest in all refined religious circles and the beloved Bishop
at all our Conferences.

From Nashville, after passing a short time at his home
in Aberdeen, he attended and held the Montgomery Con-
ference at Union Springs, and the Mobile Conference at
Selma. In going from Union Springs to Selma he slept on
the cabin floor of the boat on which he took passage. At
the Montgomery Conference he had a delightful home in
the family of Col. R. H. Powell, and at Selma he was with
the family of Col. William McKendree Byrd, his old pupil
and warm friend. I have had occasion to refer to this dis-
tinguished pupil of his in another chapter. He had all the
elements of a great man. He was a distinguished lawyer
and jurist. He was a brave, patient, humble, liberal, faith-
ful Christian. A few years after this Conference he was
suddenly killed by a railroad accident, just as he was re-
turning from a mission of peace. His noblelife, thus closed
in the midst of extensive usefulness, was an undying testi-
mony in favor of our holy religion, which he had illustrated
from his boyhood. In this pleasant family, and with this
devoted friend, his days at the Mobile Conference passed
most happily. He closed the Conference late in December,
1869, having thus finished a year of constant labor, almost
without any rest at all, and yet with much less suffering
than in former years, and with great satisfaction to himself
and much profit to the Church.
254 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

CHAPTER XXXVI.

Worxine Like a Youne Man.

HE year 1870 brought with it many cares, and more

than the usual amount of Church business. While at
home he had but little rest. He was settling debts con-
tracted only as security for others.

Debt was to him a terrible nightmare. He loathed it.
He had always tried to obey the apostolic injunction, “Owe
no man-any thing.” His own private matters were always
kept in the most systematic manner, and so as never to in-
volve himself or others. He placed his name on paper for
the benefit of dear friends, and of course suffered for it.
The first part of the year was crowded with many annoy-
ances which kept him very busy in attending to temporal.
affairs.

The sixth General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal
Church, South, was organized by him in the city of Mem-
phison May 4. All the Bishops were present except Bishop
Early, who was sick at his home in Lynchburg, Va. Bishop
Andrew was there, but too feeble to perform any work. He
never appeared more saintly, and never breathed a sweeter
spirit. But he was not able to preside in Conference, or
even to meet in the councils of the Bishops. His feeble
frame showed the marks of decay and the near approach of
the last messenger. His presence, however, was a benedic-
tion to all. Bishop Paine had prepared the Bishops’ Ad-
dress, which was read to the Conference by Bishop Wight-
man. It was highly commended by many of the first men
in the Conference as an able State paper. It heartily rec-
ommended a training-school for preachers, which elicited
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 255

 

some opposition. This, however, was compromised, and no
other than the most charitable and Christian spirit was ex-
hibited. I have said that while Bishop Paine was cautious
and conservative, he was also progressive. He was ever
abreast with the age in advocating high culture for men and
women, and for ministers especially. He held to all the old
landmarks, as to the doctrines and discipline of the Church.
He opposed all inroads upon strict, old-fashioned Methodism
whenever and wherever such inroads lessened piety and
caused a departure from those doctrines which have ever
been regarded as vital to Methodism. He opposed false
doctrines, sinful amusements, indulgence in any of the forms
of fashionable vice, with all the earnestness of a Wesley, and
with a zeal that did not abate to his dying-day.

At this General Conference, John Christian Keener, D.D.,
was elected and ordained Bishop. He was taken from the
ranks, for although he had been editor of the New Orleans
Christian Advocate, he had performed that work in connec-
tion with some pastoral labor. He was a fine writer. His
productions were always marked by originality and strength.
He was a sound theologian and a good preacher. He had
made his mark broad and deep as a Christian minister in
New Orleans. He loved the Church, and was ready to
make any sacrifice for her interests. He was of course wel-
comed by the Board of Bishops and by the Church at
large. He has been faithful to all the interests committed
to his hands.

After the Memphis Conference, Bishop Paine was largely
engaged during the summer in attending District Confer-
ences. At Athens, Florence, and Maysville, Alabama; at
Sharon, Starkville, Holly Springs, Sardis, and Oakland,
Mississippi; and at a country church some thirty miles from
Memphis, Tenn., he conducted District Conferences. He
went directly from these Conferences to Louisville, Ky..
258 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

and preached in Broadway and Walnut Street Methodist
churches. Both of the sermons were of high order.

He held the Kentucky Conference at Covington, and
returned to Louisville, where he presided over the Colored
Conference. Thence he went to the little town of Sonora,
and preached and gave large assistance to the preacher in
a revival which was going on.

From Sonora to Greensburg, the seat of the Louisville
Conference, he went with other preachers in an open wagon,
and through quite a rain-fall.

He was near seventy-one years old. At this Conference
I was his room-mate. During the whole Conference he did
not retire for rest before twelve o’clock at night. I said to
him: “Bishop, this will not do; you will kill yourself.”
He replied: “I am obliged to do this work. It cannot be
postponed. Itis work in connection with this Conference,
and must be done before reading out the appointments.”

He was greatly troubled during the Conference, not
merely by official labors, but by terrible charges of immo-
rality against a prominent preacher. He was grieved be-
yond measure, and during the few hours he was in bed he
gave more time to anxious thought and earnest prayer than
to sleep, which he needed so greatly. Yet the elegant fam-
ily with which we were domiciled knew nothing of his
troubles or his labors. He was bright and cheerful in their
presence. His stay with them was a benediction. It was at
this Conference he preached on “The temptation of Christ.”
It was one of the greatest efforts of his life, and has been
seldom excelled by any preacher in any period of the
Church. The conflict between Christ and Satan was por-
trayed with wonderful vividness. The persevering effront-
ery of Satan, his repeated and cunning attacks, and the
final triumphs of the Master, were so painted that we could
almost see the battle as it raged in the desert. He con-
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 257

 

trasted most vividly the temptation in the garden of Eden
and this one amid the jagged rocks and barren sands of
the desert. The first Adam was conquered, but the last
Adam, weary and worn, and in solitude where no flowers
bloomed, gained a victory whose glorious peans have echoed
along the ages and would continue to sound forever. Then
his representation of the angel that came to minister to
the exhausted Son of God was one of the highest efforts of
a sanctified imagination. We could almost see the shim-
mer and hear the rustle of their wings as they came in
troops to minister unto him. I wondered how he would
descend from so lofty a flight. But he came down so
gracefully as to cause a shower of tears and a burst of holy
emotion from the preachers rarely equaled. When he had
us all raised to the highest pitch of excitement and won-
der, he suddenly paused, and with child-like simplicity added :
“ Brethren, I have always thought that if I had been among
the angels I would have tried to get there first.” We all felt
first, yes, first—first among the angels to get close to Christ.

After a short visit to his home, he left in November for
Gadsden, the seat of the North Alabama Conference. Bish-
op McTyeire was with him, and gave him valuable assist-
ance. The weather was delightful, and the brethren as
genial as the weather. The session was one of the most
pleasant he had ever enjoyed. Dr. J. G. Wilson was the
Secretary, and of course did his work well. A good Con-
ference Secretary is a wonderful help to the presiding offi-
cer. Dr. Wilson had all the intelligence, the precision, the
patience, and the energy to qualify him for the responsivie
position to which his brethren called him. He was then
actively engaged in the cause of education as the President
of the Huntsville Female College. He has been for the
last eight or ten years in charge of most important work
in the city of St. Louis.

17
258 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

At the close of this year the Bishop organized the Col-
ored Methodist Episcopal Church of America at Jackson,
Tenn. That is to say, he presided at their first General
Conference, and with the assistance of Bishop McTyeire,
Dr. A. L. P. Green, and a few others, set off this Church
from the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, and ordained
W. H. Miles and J. H. Vanderhorst Bishops.

During the year he had to record the death of the Rev.
William McMahon, the last member belonging to the Ten-
nessee Conference in 1818, when Robert Paine was ad-
mitted on trial. His death left him the only man of all
who were connected with the Conference in 1818. All the
rest had been called home.

I beg the reader to review for a moment this one chap-
ter in the life of Bishop Paine, and see what work he did
in these the seventy-first and seventy-second years of his
age. He presided at two General Conferences, four or five
Annual Conferences, and eight or ten District Conferences.
He seemed like a man in the prime of life. The senior Bish-
op was an example of energy the most active, and of zeal the
most fervent. He was all sunshine in the domestic circle,
the powerful exhorter in revivals, the man of dignity in the
chair, and the peerless preacher in the pulpit. His mind was
as active, his memory as retentive, his judgment as accurate,
his counsels as wise, and his heart as genial and warm as ever.
There was no “letting down” either in his efforts or his
aspirations. His manhood—intellectual, moral, religious—
was never greater than when he entered upon the seventy-
second year of his noble and useful life.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 259

 

CHAPTER XXXVI.

DratH oF Bishop ANDREW—BIsHOP PAINE IN LOUISVILLE.

N February, 1871, Bishop Andrew ceased from labor, and
entered into his eternal rest. His death left Bishop Paine
the only survivor of the original College of Bishops who in
1846 were placed in charge as chief pastors of the Method-
ist Episcopal Church, South. Soule, Capers, Andrew—no-
ble, gifted, pious, apostolic men every one of them—had been
called from the Church militant to the Church triumphant.
To fill the places occupied by them were Wightman, Dog-
gett, Marvin, McTyeire, and Keener, who had been elected
and ordained since 1865. Then he had with him Bishops
Pierce and Kavanaugh, who had been his colleagues since
1854. Thus had the growth of Southern Methodism de-
manded increase in the general superintendency. In less
than a quarter of a century its progress had been such as
to demand the doubling of the episcopal forces. The death
of Bishop Andrew was not unexpected. He had been un-
able to do effective work for five years, and was himself in
daily expectation of his call to other and brighter fields.
He died universally loved and regretted. The Board of
Bishops met in May in Nashville, and held suitable memo-
rial-services in honor of their departed brother. Bishop
Pierce* delivered the sermon in McKendree Church. He
almost felt as if he was delivering the funeral-oration over
his own father, so dear was Bishop Andrew to him. Im-
mediately after the meeting in Nashville, Tenn., Bishop

 

* While these pages are passing through the press, the sad intel-
ligence reaches us of the death of Bishop Pierce, at Sunshine, near
Sparta, Ga.
260 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

Paine came to Louisville, accompanied by his accomplished
daughter, Miss Ludie, now the wife of Rev. John H. Scruggs.
They were the welcome guests of his old pupil, the present
writer. The District Conference was held in Louisville,
Ky. Bishop Paine presided to the satisfaction and. profit
of all.

We had at that time an association of young men con-
nected with the Broadway Church. It was called the “ Band
of Brothers.” By invitation the Bishop attended a meeting
and delivered a lecture, which so pleased the band that they
insisted on his delivering an address in the main auditorium
of the church, and that.a general invitation be extended to
the people to come and hear it. He partially consented to
do this. Upon the strength of the partial promise, the ap-
pointment was made. It was during the session of the Dis-
trict Conference, which was being held at another church.
Brother Brush, the excellent presiding elder, suggested to
the Bishop that for him to lecture at Broadway while the
session was being held at another church might work harm.
It might arouse unkind feelings between the churches. At
once the Bishop declined delivering the lecture. He would
never under any circumstances be the cause of strife in the
Church of Christ. He must be and he would be the pro-
moter of peace. The disappointment was great. A lect-
ure, however, was delivered by another party. I pitied the
substitute, but the Spirit rested upon him, and he delivered
about the best talk of his life. The speaker soon forgot his
embarrassment, and made an effective appeal in behalf of
truth and virtue and of the claims of the Band of Brothers.

I have before referred to Bishop Paine’s intense love
for the Church. Jt was a deep, enthusiastic passion in
him. It glowed and thrilled through his great soul like
a spiritual flame. It knew no abatement during his whole
life. He loved young men, and was anxious to make the
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 261

 

address for which the call had been so earnest and entirely
unanimous. But when the presiding elder suggested that
harm might come to the Church, he positively declined.

During the whole of this year he continued to travel and
attend to all the duties of a chief pastor. He preached.
He baptized. He instructed seekers of religion. He la-
bored incessantly from the Mississippi to the Atlantic, and
from the Ohio to the Gulf. He attended the Eastern Con-
ferences, and was at Lynchburg, Richmond, Norfolk, Ports-
mouth, in Virginia; at Raleigh and Charlotte, North Caro-
lina; at Spartanburg and Columbia, South Carolina—in all
of which places he preached. He was also preaching and
holding District Conferences at different points in Tennes-
see and Alabama. He held one at Tuscaloosa. This city
was a very small village in 1819 when he was the circuit
preacher. Now it was a thriving and beautiful city, the
seat of the State University, and the home of refinement
and hospitality. In 1819 he had gone from the village of
Tuscaloosa into the Choctaw Nation of Indians, then occu-
pying the borders of the State, for the purpose of forming
.a mission. Now the Indians had all been removed to the
west of the “Great Father of Waters,” and he had visited
them often and endeavored not only to preach to them but
to do all a Bishop could to advance their spiritual interests.
262 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

CENTRAL UNIVERSITY.

ARLY in the year 1872 an educational convention was
held at Memphis, Tenn., which was attended by the
Bishop. The object of this convention was to adopt some
plan by which a great central university could be established
at some place in the South. It was attended by many of our
progressive men, both from the clergy and laity. Conspic-
uous among the laymen was Judge Milton Brown, of Jack-
son, Tenn. Bishop Paine had been in the front for nearly
fifty years as an educator. He was one of the founders of
La Grange College, and had presided over it for nearly six-
teen years. He was present at the birth of the Southern
University at Greensboro, Ala., and was the President of
its Board of Trustees. It would not do for the old man,
pressed as he was with the “care of all the churches” and
with private business, to be absent from this most important
educational convention held since the war. All our insti-
tutions of learning had been crippled, and some of them
had been destroyed, by the war and its terrible results. At
the convention in Memphis it was determined to raise a
million of dollars, and to establish a university with a the-
ological department as an integral part. The wise and true
men of this convention did not locate their great university.
They did not: know from what source the money was to come,
but they had faith in God and in their great cause.

It will be seen after awhile how and from whence the
money came, and it will also be seen that the Bishop was
present when the foundation-stone was laid, and: assisted in
the ceremonies. In March of this year, the Baltimore Con-
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 263

 

ference held its session at Warrenton, Va. Bishop Paine
was to preside, and on his way passed through Lynchburg,
and had an interview with his venerable colleague Bishop
Early, who was rapidly declining. He found his dear old
friend calm and trustful, ready to depart and be with Christ.
He also stopped at Washington City, and preached in Mount
Vernon Place Church. Congress was in session, and he
saw and heard some of the great men of the nation.

On his way home from the Baltimore Conference, he
stopped at Corinth, Miss., and assisted in the quarterly-
meeting services then going on. He preached on “There
is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner
that repenteth.” “Joy everywhere,” said the Bishop, “ex-
cept among the wicked on earth and the devils in hell.”

He had a pleasant call in April to officiate in the marriage
of Ellen Virginia Saunders, the daughter of his old friend
Col. James E. Saunders, to Mr. McFarland. It was to him
and his old friends Col. and Mrs. Saunders a most delight-
fulreunion. These were friends true and tried. They loved
each other with a tenderness and warmth such as existed be-
tween David and Jonathan. Two men never agreed better
than Bishop Robert Paine and Col. James E. Saunders.
For more than half a century they were like brothers.
Their high culture, their genial, social feelings, their rich
experience in divine things, their common struggles in the
cause of religious education, and the similarity of their views
on nearly all great matters relating to Church or State, fitted
them for mutual companionship and united them together
as by hooks of steel. The wife of Col. Saunders was also
a great favorite with the Bishop, and he really looked upon
them as brother and sister. (Col. Saunders was a step-
brother of the Bishop’s wife.)

Soon after this pleasant visit to his old Alabama friends
he commenced his work on the District Conferences. After
264 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

holding three of these, he went to the Bishops’ meeting in
Nashville, Tenn. The Bishops harmonized on the location
of the great Central University. After leaving Nashville
he stopped in Giles county, and held a District Conference.
It was a joy to him to be among the hills of old Giles coun-
ty again. The Conference was held among the hills on
Bradshaw’s Creek. He had to ride on horseback, but he
was glad to do that. It reminded him of 1817. He met
with the Abernathys, Browns, Ballentines, Howells, Mar-
tins, and others, whose families had known him in his boy-
hood. Here his father had lived and been honored and
loved. Here many of his loved ones were buried. But
few were now living who were men and women when he
left his home for the life of an itinerant preacher. Some
of his old pupils were there to remind him of his labors
at La Grange College. He continued at such work all
through the summer. In Tennessee, Alabama, and Missis-
sippi he was traveling, presiding, preaching. At Athens
and Huntsville, Ala., at Union City and Dresden, Tenn.,
and at Friar’s Point and Greenville, Miss., he held these
Conferences, as also at other places. But I mention these
to show the extent of his travels. He was all over West
Tennessee, North Alabama, and a large portion of Missis-
sippi. He preached on every Sabbath and often during
the week. The summer was intensely hot, the thermome-
ter reaching 98, but he did not stop, although often much
exhausted by his labors and at times suffering with rheuma-
tism. In November he held the Virginia Conference. On
his way to Petersburg, he stopped again to see Bishop Ear-
ly, whom he found rapidly failing. The old soldier was
ready to exchange the cross for the crown. He stopped in
Washington City, and also at Baltimore, preaching in Trin-
ity Church. He says the sermon was too long, and that it
lacked simplicity. I have no means of knowing how it
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 265

 

was regarded by the very large congregation that listened
to it.

The Virginia Conference was held in Washington Street
Church, Petersburg. Many sacred memories crowded upon
the Bishop. Here, with William Capers, he was ordained
oy Bishops Soule and Andrew to the office of Bishop in the
Church of God. Of these all were gone but himself. After
the close of the Virginia Conference he went immediately to
Fayetteville, North Carolina, and held that Conference.

Without a day’s rest, after all the fatigue and labor of an
Annual Conference, he hurried on to Anderson, South Car-
olina, the seat of the South Carolina Conference. He had
been detained by snow on the track, and did not arrive at
Anderson until after the organization of the Conference.
He immediately took the chair and conducted the Confer-
ence through its business to the close. There is no labor
more trying on a man of heart, as was Bishop Paine, than
the work of a Methodist Annual Conference. For hours
he has to occupy the chair, keep order, decide upon ques-
tions of law, etc. Then at night with his cabinet he must
look over the entire work and examine impartially the fit-
ness of each preacher for any work for which he may be
nominated. Then there are difficult questions to be solved,
hard cases to determine. All these tend to wear out the
constitution of a Bishop, who has to assume the whole re-
sponsibility for every appointment. Our Bishop was now
seventy-three years old, and if he was not abundant in la-
bors, then was Paul himself an idler in his Master’s vine-
yard. He was fulfilling his vows and going all the time.
That is the glory of Methodism. Jt goes. The inspiring
word which moves the whole moral machinery of the Church
is go. To the inspiration of that one short word does Meth-
odism owe much of its power and its wonderful success at
hone and abroad.
266 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

The year 1873 was saddened at the beginning by the death
of Dr. W. A. Sykes, of Aberdeen, Miss. He had been the
life-long friend of the Bishop. For nearly fifty years they
had enjoyed each other’s confidence and love. He was a
Christian gentleman of great moral worth, and his death was
a source of grief to the Bishop as well as to his own family.
He felt that he was losing a brother beloved. He preached
the funeral-sermon on the text, “If a man die, shall he live
again?” The doctrine of the immortality of the soul is
one very dear to all followers of Christ. In this is seen the
dignity of human nature, and upon it is predicated the pre-
ciousness of redemption. Man is immortal, and as closely
allied to angels as he is to earth and worms. He shall
live again. This was the inspiring theme of that funeral-
sermon over the dust of a dearly loved friend. Then
Dr. Sykes had died in the faith, and the reunion of these
friends of each other and friends of Christ was assured.
How gloriously beautiful is our holy religion! Its beauty
never shines with a more inspiring radiance than amid ‘the
darkness and sorrow of death. Then it not only softens
sorrow, but absolutely hushes the sighs and wipes away the
tears of grief amid hopes which death itself cannot dispel.
While this religion gave the preacher comfort, it enabled

him to speak words of consolation to the sorrowing family |

of his old friend.

As we proceed with the history of Bishop Paine we are
astonished at two things: First, his ability to work. He
was now in his seventy-fourth year, and yet he continued
to do full work. Secondly, we are equally astonished at
his capacity to endure. He was most severely attacked
with inflammatory rheumatism on February 10, after great
exposure in attending the funeral of a friend who had died
some distance from Aberdeen, and whither he had to go on
horseback. He was closely confined with this terrible mal-
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 267

 

ady until the 11th of April, exactly two months. The most
excruciating agony of these two months no one ever knew.
He bore as patiently as he labored actively. He suffered
with resignation and with hope. He was so much improved
in April that he took a ride, and made this note in his diary:
‘““My ankles and wrists still suffering. Thank God for the
prospect of getting well and doing service again!”

The Bishops’ meeting called him to Nashville in May,
while still suffering from a horrid cough, which had fol-
lowed and accompanied the severe attack of rheumatism.
This was an important meeting, as besides the ordinary bus-
iness the Vanderbilt University was to be located.

Through the personal though silent influence of Bishop
McTyeire, Commodore Cornelius Vanderbilt had determined
to make a large donation to establish a great university in
the South, and not far from Nashville, Tenn. In view of
the great liberality of the wealthy New Yorker, the Central
University was merged into this institution, and in honor of
the generous founder it was to be called by his name. At
the meeting of the Bishops, May 8, 1873, the Vanderbilt
University was located at the West End of the city of
Nashville, where it now stands “a sublime pile,” eliciting
the admiration of a grateful Church. Nothing in the his-
tory of education as connected with Methodism had so grat-
ified the Bishop as the founding of this great university.
None of our institutions had been so richly endowed as was
necessary to put them in the front rank. Now, he felt, we
will have what had long been the desire of his heart. He
had labored and groaned over a college without endowment
for nearly twenty years, and had given to it the best years
of his mature manhood. He had lived to see the institution
pass into the control of the State and become the Normal
College of Alabama. Over two hundred thousand dollars
of endowment had been swept from the Southern Univer-
268 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

sity by the disasters of war. And although the institution
was still struggling, he had but little hope of seeing it pros-
perous in his day. So it was with most of our Methodist
colleges. In Alabama alone two had been lost to the
Church and given to the State because of the impoverished
condition of the country and the loss of the endowments in
both instances. The college which he had founded, labored
for, and loved lost more than fifty thousand dollars; and
the one at Auburn, in East Alabama, had lost one hundred
thousand dollars, and had been made the Agricultural and
Mechanical College of Alabama. No one man rejoiced
more over the magnificent gift of Mr. Vanderbilt. He felt
that the success of Bishop McTyeire was his. He felt that
now the Church would have a university worthy the name.
As he took in the grand view from the site selected, his soul
exulted at the prospect of an advance in Church education
such as he had hardly hoped to witness. It must have been
a gratification beyond expression to Bishop McTyeire when
he saw his veteran colleague taking an interest so profound
in the success of an enterprise which lay so near his own
heart, and which he hoped was now almost assured.

In company with Dr. Summers, he went to the Sharon
District Conference at Bethphage, Tennessee. He enjoyed
the hospitality of his old Tennessee friends very much. He
was pleased with the spirit of the preachers and the religious
power of the people. It was a time of refreshing from the
presence of the Lord. After the District Conference was
over, at which he had presided and preached to the edifica-
tion of all, he returned to his home just in time to be at the
funeral of Senator Phelan. The Senator’s wife, whose death
has been referred to in these pages, had been a deeply pious
Christian. The Senator was also a member of the Method-
ist Church, a man of large soul, and a devoted friend of the
Bishop. He had been a member of the United States Sen-
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 269

 

ate, and was just in the prime cf his manhood. His death
was a loss to the Church and to the country, and was deeply
telt by the Bishop.

He continued to travel and preach and hold District Con-
ferences all through the hot summer of 1878. He passed
from a District Conference near Clarksville, Tenn., to Cof-
feeville, Miss., and at different places between these two
points he was at camp-meetings, quarterly-meetings, and
country churches, preaching like a young man. On Fri-
day, November 7, he records the death of another of his
colleagues, Bishop John Early. He had enjoyed sweet
communion with his venerable brother twice during his
long confinement. He had found him resigned and ready,
and his death wa: not unexpected. Thus had he seen four
of his colleagues pass from the College of Bishops on earth
to the society of apostles and martyrs in heaven. Bishop
Early was in his eighty-eighth year, and had been on the
retired list since 1866. Sometimes abrupt and apparently
arbitrary, he was always true. He loved the cause of Christ
above all things else, and had been consecrated to it nearly
all his long life. Bishop Paine preached his funeral-sermon
in Aberdeen, on Sunday, the 16th of November. He held
the North Mississippi Conference at Grenada, the North
Georgia at Newnan, Ga., and the South Georgia Confer-
ence at Macon.

During this tour of Conferences he passed into his seven-
ty-fifth year. He makes his usual record of gratitude to
God for his numerous mercies. Although it had been a
year of great and constant labor, and for months of very
great suffering, he forgets both in the grateful recollection
of so many mercies and blessings bestowed. So he contin-
ued to grow old gracefully, possessing none of the bitterness
which, alas! too frequently is characteristic of old age. He
had labored much, suffered much, and enjoyed more, His
270 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

spirits were still cheerful, and he rejoiced that there was a
bright side to human life on which he loved to look. He
was no croaker, no chronic complainer. God was good;
the Church was loving; his children were devoted; and
above all else of a mere earthly nature, he had been blessed
for more than the third of a century with the tenderest love
of a pure Christian wife. For all these, and for the success
of the ministry and the growth of the Church, he was abun-
dantly thankful.

With such an example before us as was Bishop Paine, let
the preachers of this day look up and be thankful. Let
them exhaust the blue of the sky, the green of the earth,
the beauties of nature, and the power of divine grace, before
they make themselves the terror of‘others by croaking worse
than the ravens, or by complaints harsher than the cry of the
bittern.
BISHOP OF THE M. E, CHURCH, SOUTH. 271

 

CHAPTER XXXIX.

Inver LIFE—VANDERBILT UNIVERSITY—GENERAL CONFERENCE

HE inner life of the best men is sometimes concealed
from their most intimate friends. They are not dem-
onstrative. They do not care to obtrude their secret
communings with God before the public. These feelings
are so sacred that they are withheld from the public gaze,
I am sure that those on the most intimate terms with Bish-
op Paine were not made acquainted with the depth and fer-
vor of his religious feelings. He kept them to himself. His
brief entries in his diary often show us what was not known
during his life.

On January 1, 1874, he writes: “Thank my God for all
the mescies to me and mine of the past year. I renew my
vows of consecration. Make me holy, useful, and patient.
Save me from sin, death, and debt this year—myself and
family.” These vows of consecration were being constantly
renewed. It was his invariable habit during his long life on
the 1st of January, the 9th of October, and the 12th of No-
vember to reconsecrate himself in the most humble and sol-
emn manner to the service of God. He did this not merely
as a matter of duty, but as a high privilege. Gratitude for
God’s special care of him and his is ever seen mingling with
the vow of renewed devotion to his holy cause.

On January 14, 1874, the Board of Trust of Vanderbilt
University met in Memphis, Tenn. Bishop Paine was pres-
ent, greatly to the satisfaction of the Board. At this meet-
ing Dr. L. C. Garland was chosen Chancellor. Drs. Sum-
mers, Shipp, Wills, and Lupton were also appointed to
272 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. /

 

prominent places in the Faculty. It was also determined
that on January 15, 1875, the university should open its
doors for the reception of students. The Board continued
in session for some days, and had no wiser or more efficient
member than was their ever-faithful friend to education.
He rejoiced with exceeding great joy as the prospect of a
university of the highest order seemed now certain of reali-
zation—that too during hisown day. He had no misgivings
as to a theological department. He felt that the time had
come in the history of Methodism when candidates for the
ministry should have all the advantages of a thorough the
ological education.

On the 21st of February his heart was made glad by the
return of his son John Emory, who had graduated with the
highest honors at the Medical University of New York. He
had taken the first prize, and this added to the gratification
of his venerable father. His son George was in the senior
class at the University of Mississippi, and received the de-
gree of A.B. at its annual commencement in the summer.
Both of these events were noted with great satisfaction. It
was indeed cause for thanksgiving. These were noble sons,
worthy of their father. Both had distinguished themselves
in their classes, and both were young gentlemen of high
moral character.

On his way to the General Conference in Louisville he
stopped for a few days with his old pupils in Florence, Ala.
He was renewing his youth with such men as Judge W. B.
Wood, Gov. E. A. O’Neal, and Judge H. E. Jones. They
had been his pupils more than thirty-five years before, and
were men of the highest position, and were ever ready for
every good word and work in Church and in the State of
which O’Neal became Governor and in which both Jones
and Wood were prominent and distinguished citizens, hold-
ing high offices of both honor and trust. It was not often
BISHOP OF THE M. E, CHURCH, SOUTH. 278

 

that the Bishop during his whole career stopped by the way
as a mere matter of social enjoyment with old pupils.
From Florence he went to Nashville to attend the cere-
monies of laying the corner-stone of the great university.
He was a prominent and gratified actor in these ceremonies,
and showed much more feeling than he was accustomed to do.
At the General Conference, held in Louisville, May,
1874, he was placed in the excellent family of Hon. T.
L. Jefferson. His stay was a benediction to the whole
family. He has been remembered ever since with the
most cordial affection. His presence did not bring gloom,
but sunshine. His company was attractive, and noth-
ing either in his manners or in his words was in the least
repulsive. He was still the Christian gentleman, as well
as the Christian Bishop. He presided often during the
General Conference, and always with satisfaction. The Con-
ference was a deeply interesting one to our common Method-
ism. It received fraternal delegates from the Methodist
Episcopal Church for the first time since the organization
of the Church in 1845. That was no fault of the Church,
South. A fraternal delegate sent by the Southern Church
had been rejected in 1848. It was a wonderful fact that
Dr. Lovick Pierce, the rejected delegate of 1848, was on
the platform in 1874. He was then possibly the oldest
Methodist preacher on the continent. It must have been
a gratification beyond measure to the Christian heart of
this veteran of ninety years to witness these fraternal greet-
ings. They were just such as reflected glory and honor
upon our holy religion and upon the eloquent men who
represented the Methodist Episcopal Church on that mem-
orable occasion. Bishop Paine as the senior Bishop might
have presided on that occasion, but he did not. His mag-
nanimity urged him to put forward his colleague, Bishop
McTyeire, who had given him such prominence at the in-
18
274 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

augurating ceremonies of the Vanderbilt. Bishop Paine
was never to be outdone in magnanimity. He modestly
sat back on the platform, and witnessed such exhibitions of
Christian love as can never be forgotten. It was during
these greetings that Dr. Hunt, one of the fraternal messen-
gers, read an autograph letter from the father of American
Methodism, Bishop Asbury. The letter had all the marks
of age. It was evidently genuine, and had been kept by
some loving old Methodist as a sowvenir of great value.
After reading it, the Doctor turned with infinite grace, and
with the tenderest Christian feelings presented the letter as
a gift to the venerable Dr. Lovick Pierce, and accompanied
the present with such words as moved the whole audience.
Bishop McTyeire replied in the happiest spirit and style to
the words of love which had been uttered by Drs. Hunt,
Fowler, and General Fisk, and the fraternal messengers.
He then said: “Brethren, if it please you it will gratify us
that you take your place on the platform and feel perfectly
at home with these representatives of the Church, South.”
Thus ended one of the most interesting and important
events in the history of Methodism. During this General
Conference there were several Sunday-school mass-meetings
held in Library Hall, and attended by immense audiences.
Bishop Paine notes his presiding at one “at which there
were four thousand persons present.” Dr. A. L. P. Green
made his last Sabbath-schoo! address at this meeting. He
was very feeble and much worn down with the malady
which closed his useful life. He was bright and cheerful,
and made one of the best addresses ever delivered on such
an occasion. The speech was so bright and cheerful, so ap-
propriate to children, and so instructive to all, that no one
dreamed of the great suffering of the speaker or of his near-
ness to the grave. In a day or two he went home to die.
In his death Bishop Paine felt that he had met with a great
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 275

 

personal loss. They had been friends for more than half
a century. During all this time their devotion to each
other had been the purest and strongest, and had increased
with their years.

During this same Conference the Rev. Fountain E. Pitts,
another of the Bishop’s Tennessee Conference friends, true
and tried, was also called to his “eternal home.” The Bishop
participated in his memorial-services, and delivered on the
occasion a brief but eloquent and appropriate address.

Before the close of the year the Tennessee Conference lost
another distinguished member who was also one of the Bish-
op’s early friends. A purer man never lived than was the
Rev. Thomas Maddin. He was the highly cultivated Chris-
tian gentleman, and the humble Christian with a character
faithfully modeled after Him whom he preached with so
much eloquence and success for so many years. Thus were
going nearly all those who were the companions-in-arms with
Robert Paine when he wielded the sword of the Spirit with
such vigor in his young manhood. Of all these, Dr. A. L.
P. Green was the most intimate friend of the Bishop. “ Wise,
unselfish, devoted,” are the adjectives which he applies to
him, and calls him his most intimate friend on earth.
276 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

CHAPTER XL.

SEVENTY-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY—DomeEstic AFFLICTIONS—HEROIC
Devotion To Dury.

FTER holding many District Conferences, preaching
whenever opportunity offered, ordaining and baptizing,
during the summer of 1874, he held the Memphis Confer-
ence at Humboldt, November 18; the Mississippi Conference
at Hazlehurst, December 16; and this closed up the work of
another laborious year.

It so happened that he was at home on the seventy-fifth
anniversary of his birth. He had been generally absent
on the return of these anniversaries. As he was at home,
his wife determined to give him a Christmas festival.
This was done. The children were there. The house was
bright. The supper was elegant. The religious services,
conducted by Rev. William Murrah, were very appro-
priate. All passed off just as such an occasion, under the
management of a noble Christian woman and a true wife
such as was Mrs. Paine, is always sure to pass. The old
Bishop enjoyed the day which began his seventy-sixth year
as much as most men of fifty enjoy their birthdays. He re-
membered the past without regret; he enjoyed the present
without any alloy of bitterness, and looked to an eternal
future with the most joyful hope.

The new year, 1875, found the Bishop away from home
on Conference duties. He was on his way to Alexandria,
La. He was much exposed on the route, and on the Sab-
bath of the Conference he was compelled to cross Red River
in an open skiff in order to reach the church in which he
was to preach and ordain deacons and elders. He became
BISHOP OF THE M. FE. CHURCH, SOUTH. 277

 

very cold, and suffered much while at church. In a short
time he felt the beginning of the distressing malady which,
after years of suffering, finally terminated his life. He
ought to have rested this whole year, but he did not. He
was determined to die on the field. During the year he
presided at District Conferences in Tennessee and Missis-
‘sippi, and preached whenever opportunity afforded and aa
he was able to do so.

He had sad domestic afflictions. A beautiful grandchild,
bright and attractive, died at his house. The child was just
at that interesting age when its innocent prattle and winning
ways were so well calculated to kindle the tenderest feelings
in the heart of the grand old man. But a still heavier sor-
row fell upon him in the death of his son, John Emory Paine,
M.D. He had but recently married an accomplished wife,
and had just entered upon a career which promised both
usefulness and distinction. He was called at midnight to
see a patient some six miles distant. Though very unwell, he
went, and returned at four a.m. very ill. He never rallied.
The Bishop was with him, and prayed with and for him.
The young man was at first much concerned, and joined his
father in earnest prayer for his recovery and for his soul’s
salvation. He became very happy, and died in great peace
The Bishop makes this brief entry in his diary: “ Wed. 103
o’clock, Sept. 15, 1875, my son John Emory died, ‘all bright
and happy;’ called by name all present, and said to each,
‘Promise to meet me in heaven.’ They all promised.
Sick less than three days. O what a death—so sudden,
and yet so bright! Thank God for his grace, to renew and
prepare for heaven. Here, Lord, I give myself to thee—
tis all that I can do. O Lord save my family!” The
dear young man was buried on September 16. On the 17th
of September his sorrowing father was called to preach the
funeral-sermon of an old friend and former pupil, Dr. T.
278 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

A. Sykes. He did not hesitate to go. He felt that in
comforting others he would be comforted. Of course it
was a great cross, but “no cross no crown.” None but
those called under like circumstances to preach and admin-
ister consolation to others can fully appreciate the position
of the Bishop. Just turning away from the grave of a be-
loved son who had died in the fresh vigor of young man-
hood, and with every prospect of a successful and happy
career before him, he is called to minister to the sorrows
of others, and to commemorate the virtues of a deceased
pupil. His text was: “Be ye steadfast, unmovable, always
abounding in the work of the Lord.” It enabled him to
bring before the congregation the assurance of a glorious
resurrection. This was comfort. This was joy. A month
after the death of his son, we find him in Nashville at the
opening of the Vanderbilt University. He listened with
great pleasure to the eloquent sermon of Bishop Doggett
on the “Dynamics of the religion of Christ,” and also to
the learned and polished address of Bishop William M.
Wightman. It was his part to address the students. He
always loved young men. He looked now upon these, as-
sembled from almost every Southern State, with unusual
hope. They were to be under the instruction of the most
accomplished teachers, and were to have opportunities of
culture such as had not been enjoyed before at any Meth-
odist college. The scene inspired him, and “the old man
eloquent” uttered such words as the good and great only
can utter. In the opening of this great university he
realized a “hope which had long been deferred,” and re-
joiced in its realization. He placed his youngest son in the
institution, whose success he believed already assured. It
must have been a gratification to all the friends of the uni-
versity that in Bishop Paine it had one of its warmest and
most enthusastic supporters.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 279

 

At the close of the seventy-sixth year of his age, he
held three Annual Conferences, preaching and ordaining
deacons and elders. Thus closed a year of deep family and
personal affliction. Yet he saw much to encourage him.
The dark night of political misrule was passing away
from his beloved people. The country was progressing.
The Church was moving forward. The educational outlook
was more hopeful. He thanked God and took courage,
and expressed the hope that the old flag might once more
float over a united and happy people.

In January, 1876, another great affliction fell unexpect-
edly upon the church of Aberdeen, and was most deeply
felt by Bishop Paine. Judge John Burrus Sale died. He
had been educated at La Grange College under the Presi-
dency of Robert Paine. A wild boy, he had been gently
led to Christ largely through the influence of his teachings.
He was a man of high character and large influence. His
talents were such as to give him the first position at the
bar, and his piety placed him among the foremost in the
Church. His father, the Rev. Alexander Sale, who has
been before mentioned in these pages, was a preacher of
high standing in the Virginia Conference, and was one of
the pioneer itinerant preachers in the early history of Ala-
bama. He was a member of the Board of Trustees of La
Grange College, and he and Bishop Paine were life-long
and devoted friends. The son was much like his father.
He was tall and commanding in person, and seemed destined
to a long life. But God saw otherwise, and “took him.”
The Bishop was with him in his last sickness, and prayed
with him, and conversed freely with him as to his future.
All was well. He died full of the Holy Ghost and of faith.
The Bishop says: “He was my best friend in Aberdeen.”
He was his pupil more than a third of a century before,
and for many years had been his neighbor and friend and
280 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

counselor. The Bishop preached the funeral-sermon of
his old friend, and committed dust to dust until the resur-
rection. The sermon was on “Christ, the first-fruits of
them that slept.” He loved more and more to dwell upon
Christ as the resurrection and the life. The theme inspired
and comforted him, and enabled him to speak words of con-
solation to others.

During the winter and spring of 1876 he remained most
of the time at his home. He was not well. He was often
not able to be at the church on Sabbath, and preached only
a few times. In May, however, he determined to attend
the Bishops’ meeting at Nashville. His ever-faithful wife
accompanied him. He was still unable to preach, and list-
ened with pleasure to Bishop Doggett, as he preached on
the “Progress of Methodism during the nineteenth centu-
ry.” Of all this progress he had been a witness, and for
more than fifty years had contributed largely to it. The
eloquent utterances of his colleague filled him with grati-
tude as he portrayed the past, and with hope as he looked
to the future of his beloved Methodism.

After the Bishops’ meeting, he attended the Gallatin Dis-
trict Conference, and preached on Sabbath in the open air
to a vast concourse. His sermon was just one hour long
on the text, “Surely this man was the Son of God.” He
then attended a District Conference near Decatur, Alabama,
at Trinity, and preached again in the open air on the
“Temptation of Christ.” He had the pleasure of meeting
his only living sister, Mrs. Abernathy, and of having her
accompany him to his home in Aberdeen. These two were
now left alone of all the brothers and sisters of that once
large family. He continued to attend District Conferences
and preached during the summer as he had ability. It is
really astonishing to see what work he did. After an ex-
hausting sermon, he writes: “I preached too long and hard.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. OHURCH, SOUTH. 281

 

Would that I knew how to preach easy! Dr. Green did.
So do Dr. Parker and Bishop McTyeire and Dr. Young.”
In August of this year the commissioners on the part of
the two Episcopal Methodisms in the United States met
and agreed upon terms of fraternity. This settlement of
great principles evoked the prayer from the Bishop, “‘ May
all be wise, good, perpetual. Iflove and peace result, what
ablessing!” Soon after these terms were settled he attended
the Illinois Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church,
South. Here he had the pleasure of meeting with his old
friend the Rev. Peter Akers. They exchanged fraternal
greetings, and met and parted as brethren beloved. The
Conference was held at Jacksonville; and when the resolu-
tions on fraternity were presented, Dr. Akers made a char-
acteristic speech, and all felt that the long ecclesiastical war
was over. On his way home Bishop Paine received intelli-
gence of the heroic death of Dr. E. H. Myers, one of the
peace commissioners. He was stationed at Savannah,
Georgia, and upon hearing that the yellow fever was rag-
ing there he at once hurried to his suffering people. Alas!
he went as a martyr. With love in his heart and heaven in
his eye, he rushed to his own death. On his return to his
home, Bishop Paine found his daughter-in-law, the wife of
his son Robert, lying at the point to die. He had with
her an affectionate Christian talk and a humble, earnest
prayer. She was a beautiful Christian character, and died
in joyful hope of eternal rest. This death was followed
very soon by the death of another friend and neighbor, the
Rev. B. B. Barker, who also died in great peace. He bore
these bereavements just as a trusting Christian always does.
“Thy will be done.” These were his words, and they ex-
pressed fortitude, faith, resignation, and hope. All was
well. He was at his post as presiding Bishop at the Ala-
bama Conference, where he was always welcome. It was
22 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

held this year at Demopvlis. Here he met his former con-
frere in the cause of education, Dr. Henry Tutwiler. The
meeting of these old and true Christian gentlemen was such
as to remind one of the meeting of loved ones in the home
of the blessed. He was able to preach and go through the
services of ordination without any serious inconvenience.
The Conference closed on December 12, and he left imme
diately for Nashville, Tennessee. The Publishing Hots:
was in trouble. The Bishops were to hold a consultation
with the Book Commitiee, and to advise as to what was
best to be done io relieve this great Church enterprise of
its trouble. His love of the Church, his great caution, his
keen foresight, and his Jarge financial ability were all
brought into requisition at this meeting. It was deter-
mined to have all the affairs of the House thoroughly exam-
ined by experts, and a full and correct statement of its con-
dition presented to the Church. The result of all this has
been the restoration of confidence in the House and the as
surance of its final relief from its difficulties and of a certain
career of prosperity and usefulness. Thus closed the seven-
ty-seventh year of a life of continuous labor, and the sixtieth
of active work as an itinerant Methodist preacher. He
had now been thirty years a Bishop, fulfilling his most sol-
emn vows and doing the work of a chief pastor with great

The winter of 1876 and 1377 was intensely severe. The
Bishop says in his diary that the snow fell in Aberdeen to
the depth of two feet. It was the deepest that had been
seen for sixty years. The cold weather kept him in-doors
most of the winter. So soon as the spring opened he began
work with his usual energy. He attended District Confer-
euces in Louisiana, Tennessee, Kentucky, Mississippi, Ala-
bama, and Florida. He also attended by invitation from
Dr. D. C. Kelley the last communion held in the old McKen-
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 23

 

dree Church, at Nashville. He had witnessed the growth
of Methodism for sixty years in that city. He had been
the pastor there in the early part of his ministry. He had
married his first wife in Nashville, and had laid her sacred
dust there among her kindred, to sleep in quiet until the
resurrection. Many of his happiest days had been spent
in Nashville, and he accepted the invitation to go hundreds
of miles to enjoy the last communion in the house which
had the name of McKendree, so dear to him. The old
structure was to be torn down and a new one to be erected
in its stead. Nearly all the old pastors who were living
were at that last gathering. It was an occasion long to be
remembered. A new temple was to be erected whose glory
should far exceed the beauty of the one in which this eu-
charistic feast was to be celebrated for the last time. Bish-
op McTyeire was there to lead in the exercises, which were
deeply impressive, and which touched the deepest sympathies
of his venerable colleague. He enjoyed them. He felt re-
paid for all the fatigue of the trip. While sacred memories
were called up, the occasion was also a prophecy. It fore-
shadowed still greater prosperity and success to his beloved
Methodism in this growing city. Here was the Book Con-
cern, which, though greatly embarrassed, he hoped to see
relieved of all its disabilities and going forward in a career
of great usefulness to the country. Here, too, was the Van-
derbilt. The outlook was magnificent. He was almost
ready to say: “Now, Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart
in peace.” He was again at the Bishops’ meeting in Nash-
ville, at which initial steps were taken to raise a sum for
the suffering Publishing House.

During the summer he was absent a great deal. He was
preaching with much more satisfaction to others than to
himself. After preaching at a District Conference to a
large crowd assembled in a grove, he writes: “ Preached on
284 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

Heb. vii. 25. ‘Christ able to save. Poor affair. My ideal
of preaching above my practice. Wish I could preach.
O that I could be useful and see present fruits.” To sev
fruits—present fruits—was the great desire of his heart.
Because these fruits were not always visible, he was grieved.
He loved souls. Hesought to save those whom he knew were
the redeemed by Christ. He knew there was power in the
gospel. He felt that it ought to produce immediate and
powerful results.

In August he left home to attend the Kentucky Conference.
He stopped at Louisville, and was the guest of his very true
friend Hon. T. L. Jefferson. I happened to meet him. I
had not seen him since the General Conference at Louis-
ville, 1874. I could see that his powerful physical man-
hood was giving way. His hearing was much impaired,
and he seemed to be suffering. We spent some two hours
together. He gave me much good advice. He was bright
and cheerful, and I never saw him more pleasant; yet,
with the weight of nearly seventy-eight years upon him, he
was beginning to show evidences of yielding. After hold-
ing the Kentucky Conference at Winchester, he returned
to Louisville and rested for some days at the delightful
home of Brother Thos. L. Jefferson. He also preached on
Sabbath at Chestnut Street Church. Here he was wel-
comed by Dr. Messick, the pastor, and his flock, who all
enjoyed the ministrations of the venerable servant of God
and the Church. He was a most welcome guest in the
family of Mr. Jefferson. He had none of the moroseness
which renders old age often repulsive. He was frequently
playful, and always agreeable. He exercised that beautiful
grace which never behaves itself unseemly.

After resting a short while at home, he attended the
German Mission Conference at Houston, Texas. While
there he heard of the death of Bishop Marvin, three days
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 285

 

after its occurrence. He says: “I mourn for a colleague
gifted, holy, and useful.” Again he enters in his diary:
“ Bishop Marvin died in St. Louis at four a.m. on November
26. Did not hear of it till to-day, November 29. A most
devoted, useful, and gifted minister of Christ. A great loss
to the Church. So very sorry to lose him! Lately round
the world. Too much work and worry for so frail a body.”
The death of Bishop Marvin was unexpected, and fell heav-
ily upon the whole Church. He was an evangelist. He
was thoroughly consecrated. He never seemed to think of
self. He literally died sword in hand, “still warm with
recent fight.” His death made the sixth that had taken
place in the Episcopal Board since Bishop Paine had been
ordained in 1846. Soule, Capers, Andrew, Bascom, Early,
and Marvin, had all been called away by the silent mes-
senger. Six of his colleagues gone! The death of none of
them seemed to affect him so much as the death of Enoch
Mather Marvin. It was so unexpected. He had not
thought once of seeing this young Bishop depart and leave
him. Another death near the same time greatly grieved
him. This was the death of Brother Moss, presiding elder
‘ in the Memphis Conference. Moss was arising man. His
preaching ability was of a very high order. His vivid im-
agination, his aumerous and apt illustrations always ex-
pressed in choice language, his vehemence as manifested
both in the impassioned thoughts and in the strength of
voice, all made him one of the most powerful preachers in
the Memphis Conference. His death was a great loss to the
Church, and especially to the Memphis Conference. The
Bishop closed the labors of this year by holding the Louis-
iana Conference at Opelousas, Louisiana. He was now
seventy-eight years of age. During this year he held
twelve District Conferences in six different States. He had
gone twice to Nashville—first to attend the last communion
286 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

in the old McKendree Church, and then to be at the Bish-
ops’ meeting. He had preached often in country churches,
and had baptized both children and adults. Was he not
in labors abundant? He had not yet crossed the “dead-
line.” He was welcomed to every home, desired in all the
pulpits, and no one was more popular than he in the cabi-
net or in the chair.

The year 1878 was passed by the Bishop in great suffer-
ing. He became greatly emaciated. His nights afforded
him but little sound natural sleep. During the days he
endured almost intolerable pain. He tried Lithia-water,
but it gave him no relief. He consulted the best physicians,
and they were unable to render him any assistance. He
was dying by inches. We no longer accompany him in
active labor, for afflicted as he was with an incurable mala-
dy of a most painful character and with the weight of near-
ly four-score years upon him, he was no longer able to do
the active work which had been his delight for more than
sixty years. He was, however, determined to do what he
could. His first work was to attend the session of the Gen-
eral Conference at Atlanta, Georgia. He was most com-
fortably entertained in the family of Governor Colquitt.
Here he had every attention that Christian culture and
love could give. He presided a few times, but was frequent-
ly too unwell to attend, and was able to attempt to preach
but once during the Conference. He, however, took the
liveliest interest in all the questions that came up for dis-
cussion or for legal decision. He had implicit confidence
in his colleagues, and felt all secure with them conducting
the great interests of the Church. After the Conference he
spent a short time in Georgia at the home of his son James,
but was unable to preach or even to attend church. He
arrived at home early in June and remained until the last
of the month. Sick and suffering as he was, he attended a
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 287

 

District Conference at Senatobia, Mississippi. He preached
on Sabbath from the text, ‘“ Knowing that he which raised
up the Lord Jesus shall raise up us also by Jesus, and shall
present us with you” (2 Corinthians iv. 14). Though
greatly exhausted, he did not suffer so much from the effort
to preach as he feared. He also attended a District Con-
ference on the 5th of July at Iuka, Mississippi. He was
unable to preach, and was suffering constant and severe
pain. He got ready to attend other District Conferences,
but found himself unable to do so. Besides, the yellow fe-
ver was prevailing at Water Valley, Holly Springs, and at
other towns in Mississippi. A panic prevailed even at
Aberdeen, and many families left. He therefore remained
at home, “suffering greatly day and night.” He con-
sented to hold the Memphis Conference at Jackson, Ten-
nessee, on December 4; the North Mississippi at Macon,
December 11; and the Mississippi, on December 18. He
attended and held the first two, but was unable to do more.
Exhausted with pain and too feeble to go on with his work,
he telegraphed to one of his colleagues that he could do no
more. He returned home feeling and writing that his work
was nearly done. During the rest of the winter 1878-79 he
was able to do nothing, and was so feeble and in a state of
so great suffering that he was not even able to attend church
until the 20th of April. Feeble as he was, he attended
the Bishops’ meeting at Nashville in May. From Nashville
he went to Hurricane Springs. Here he tried to preach
sitting in his chair, from John xiv. 1-3. He talked famil-
iarly, hopefully, and yet seriously, on our Father’s house
with many mansions, and had the solemn attention of the
little company assembled to hear him. He did not exert
himself, and yet he suffered intensely, and had to remain
closely in his room all the next day. The water of the
springs did not suit his case. The secretion of the blood
288 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

became greater, and his sufferings increased. He therefore
left the springs and returned home. While at home he
penned the following letter:

Dear Brother McFerrin: Let me congratulate you, your able and
noble Book Committee, as well as all other members and friends
who have contributed to sustain the honor of our Southern Method-
ism. It thrilled my heart to learn that the big debt of $300,000 had
been provided for. Hear it! The Methodists, South, do not repu-
diate an honest debt. They, like all other honest men, frankly con-
fess it, and pay it as soon as they can. Poor we may be—and how
poor we are down here those North cannot conceive—yet our Meth-
odism is a debt-paying religion. In this respect at least we are true
Wesleyans, and no man shall take this honor from us, And now let
us pay promptly our subscriptions, and go forward to meet our obliga-
tions to God and man by sending the gospel to the whole world.

My health has not improved much. I am feeble, and sometimes
suffer intensely. ThenIcando nothing but endure. At other times
I am comparatively easy. How I may do my work at my Annual’
Conferences I cannot tell; but it is my purpose to attend them (D.
V.), and do the best Ican. They lie among my old friends, and I
want to see the members again. They will sustain me and bear with
meas they have heretofore done. Iknow this. Bishop Pierce has, in
two notes, tendered me his assistance at Murfreesboro; and while un-
willing to impose any additional labor upon one who I fear has already
taken too much upon himself, yet, as he assures me that neither his
convenience nor his present state of health forbids, I have invited him
to come. My strength may fail; and, anyhow, I am sure we will be
greatly delighted to have him with us. Above all, may God be with
us always! Your old friend and brother, R. Parne.

Aberdeen, Miss., Sept. 30, 1879.

He continued at home until October, unable to do any
work. On October 1, 1879, he left home, suffering and fee-
ble as he was, and attended the Tennessee Conference at
Murfreesboro. Here he had the valuable assistance of
Bishop Doggett. Bishop Doggett preached a great sermon
on “The judgment of the last day,” and Bishop Paine per:
formed the ordination services. After the close of the Con-
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 289

 

ference he went to the Red Sulphur Springs, in Macon coun-
ty, Tennessee. He had to go over a rough road, by private
conveyance, and suffered much on the trip. He staid at
the springs some three weeks, but derived no benefit from
the waters. Still brave, and determined to work as long as
he had any strength at all, he left for the North Alabama
Conference, which he held at Tuscaloosa. It will be re
membered that he had traveled on the Tuscaloosa Circuit
in his youth, when Tuscaloosa was a small village, and that
his circuit extended from where Demopolis now stands to
the State line on the north He had lived among the
mountains of North Alabama in the prime of his manhood,
and had frequently visited the City of Oaks in the interest
of La Grange College. He was now there for the last time.
The wilderness had indeed been made to rejoice. He now
oresided over a flourishing Conference, and the territory
over which the boy-preacher traveled was now occupied by
hirty or forty preachers. The wonderful development of
North Alabama was not unexpected to him. Its vast min
oral wealth had been foretold by him forty years before.
The spirit of the Conference cheered him in the midst of
pain and feebleness. There was life in that Conference.
Tt was abreast of the age. He saw a grand future opening
before it. He ordained sixteen deacons and eight elders,
and at the close of the Conference felt better than at the
beginning. He went directly from the North Alabama Con-
ference to Greensboro, Alabama. He preached to the stu-
dents of the university, though unable to stand. Indeed, he
was not able to preach sitting on his chair; but he was so
anxious to lead young men to Christ that in spite of pain
and feebleness he gave them such godly counsel as his
whole life so well fitted him to give. Accompanied by his
devoted wife, he went from Greensboro to Tuskegee, Ala-
bama, the seat of the Alahama Conference. I had not
19
290 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

seen him for several years. I was shocked when I Iccked
upon that once compact, manly, erect form so wasted by dis-
ease and the infirmities of age. His eyes still beamed with
the light of other days. He gave me a tender, cordial
grasp, and uttered so many bright, playful words that he
soon removed the sadness which his quick eye readily saw
overspreading my countenance. I offered to assist him in
going from one car to another, but he pleasantly said: “ Let
me help you, Rivers.” He said this referring to my lame-
ness, which often seemed to demand help. There were
quite a number of preachers on the way to Conference, and
none seemed to be in better spirits than the venerable Bishop.
His pale countenance gave evidence of constant suffering,
but his words did not indicate at all what he was constantly
enduring. He said playfully that one of the Bishops had
kindly offered to assist him, but that he hoped to be able
to hold the Conference without having to call upon one of
his colleagues. Conversing thus cheerfully, we arrived at
Tuskegee, Alabama, December 16, 1879. He was often
unable to be at the Conference before ten o’clock, and while
in the chair seemed to be suffering most excruciating agony.
It was a very protracted session, and did not close until
late on Thursday night.

Before the appointments were read out, he delivered his
last talk to the Alabama Conference. It was as loving and
tender as ever were the words of John the beloved disciple.
It taught us patience, forbearance, and “sweet charity.” It
was the unfolding of the heart of the venerable father to the
gaze of his sons. He spoke of his early ministry. He re-
ferred to changes which had taken place in his notions of
the administration of discipline. He was eloquent in the
softest and tenderest words that I had ever heard even from
his lips. He seemed to me to be the very embodiment of
love. The pale, wan face, the sunken eyes, and the trem-
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURUH, SOUTH. 291

 

bling voice, together with the midnight hour—cold, freezing
weather—all together made the closing scenes of the Ala-
bama Conference of 1879 the most tenderly impressive that
T had ever witnessed. That night he pressed my hand for
the last time. He said tenderly to me. “I shall soon be
gone. *Tis all right.” These were the last words he ever
spoke to his old pupil.

The night was cold, but cold as it was he left for his
home, which he reached after great suffering and some delay.
The delay was at Selma, where he had the most gentle and
loving attention of his friend Mrs. Maria Byrd, widow of his
old and dearly loved pupil Judge W. M. Byrd, assisted by the
gentle hands of her affectionate Christian daughters, Misses
Sallie and Luna. He arrived at home in a suffering con-
dition, and wrote in his diary: “I doubt if I can ever hold
another Conference. Still losing blood. Have done so little
good am ashamed, but I have tried to be honest and faith-
ful and rely on God’s mercy in Christ.” Again he writes:
“Feeble, trusting. The gospel only assures us of immortal
happiness. ‘We know.’ It is enough for faith. I do be
lieve.” He did, however, attend the Bishops’ meeting in
Nashville, and received all the care and attention he so
greatly needed at the hospitable home of Captain Fite, who
married the daughter of his old friend Dr. A. L. P. Green.
As he was suffering so much, he remained avey from home
but a short time.

On the 9th of October he remembered his spiritual birth-
day. With an energy and determination which astonished
his most intimate friends, he attended the Tennessee Con-
ference at Pulaski, Tennessee. Bishop McTyeire was with
him, and gave him valuable assistance. He enjoyed the
Conference at his old home, though all were gone whom he
knew in his boyhood, and when he was a merchant’s clerk
292 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

CHAPTER XLI.

Stity SUFFERING AND WorKING—Dr. PaLmer’s VISIT.

N October 30, at home, he learned that Bishop Doggett
had preceded him—that he was dead! He felt this to
be a great calamity, and was much distressed. <A great
man had fallen, and his venerable colleague was too feeble
to say a word on the sad occasion. Upon the anniversary
of his birth, he writes: “Eighty-one years old to-day.
Thank God! More purity, patience, and love.” Again we
find him disappointing himself and astonishing his breth-
ren by attending the North Mississippi Conference at Co-
lumbus, Mississippi. And this ended his labors and his
sufferings for the year 1880. It was about this time, I
believe, that he was visited by that distinguished Presbyte-
rian minister Dr. B. M. Palmer, of New Orleans. We take
from the South-western Presbyterian the following interesting
account of that visit as given by Dr. Palmer himself:

Mr. Editor: Few Christians of any denomination visit Aberdeen,
Mississippi, without paying their respects to the venerable Bishop
Paine, of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. The interview
with which I indulged a few days ago was so touching that I have
a desire to put it on record for the benefit of others besides myself.

The conversation opened naturally with a reference to his state
of health, and to the severe chronic disease which more than his
gieat age disables him from active service. “I cannot describe to you
my feelings,” said this Christian patriarch, “when the physician
entreated me to cease preaching, and to rest henceforth from all
labor. It overwhelmed me to think that I should do nothing any
more to make the world better in which I lived.” “I can appreciate
it, Bishop,” was the reply. “It must be a solemn moment when we
realize that our work on earth is done, and we fold it up for the
4 BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 293

 

judgment-day.” “Ah!” said he, “if I were only permitted to
preach again, I would endeavor to do it with greater simplicity and
impressiveness. I would go directly for the conscience, and seek to
bring sinners at once to Christ.” “If it is painful to you,” I vent-
ured to suggest, “to be laid aside now, it must be a comfort to reflect
that rest comes to you after a long and laborious ministry.” “Yes;
I thank God that I can look back over sixty years of active service,
and upon many tokens of the Divine blessing upon it.” After
awhile the conversation drifted upon the suffering which it pleased
the Master to send upon his aged servant. “It is very acute,” said
he. “Only an hour before you came in, it seemed as great as I could
bear.” “It is very mysterious,” I rejoined, “that we should be let
out from life through so much suffering.” “Tt is proper,” he added,
“that we should seek to assuage pain; but I would not desire to have
mine a particle less than my Heavenly Father wills.’ “Bishop, I
have sometimes thought a Christian should be willing to endure a
good deal of bodily pain, if he can thereby testify to the holiness
of God, who will not allow sin to go unreproved even in those
whom he loves and saves.” “Ah! yes,” replied he, “but the com-
plete vindication of the Divine holiness is to be found in the suffer-
ings upon the cross. No one can doubt this when he looks there.”

Fearing to weary him, I rose to take my leave. With the sweet
courtesy which has always distinguished this Christian gentleman,
he followed me to the door, leaning upon his staff. After express-
ing satisfaction at my visit, he sent messages of love to the ministers
of his Church in New Orleans. “Remember me to Bishop Keener,
to Drs. Parker, Walker, and Matthews, and tell them I am very
near the other shore, and I think I know the landings.” “Yes,
Bishop, and the landing is very safe.” “Blessed be God,” he re-
plied, “I know the landing on the other side, and it is safe.” Thus,
after the lapse of eighteen hundred years, from the lips of this
Christian patriarch falls the echo of Paul’s cheerful testimony: “T
know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to
xeep that which I have committed unto Him against that day. ”

B. M. Paumer.
294 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

CHAPTER XLII.

“Nores oF Lirr”—WersLEY Hati—A FRATERNAL MEETING.
N 1881, while suffering from the malady which was taking
his very life’s blood and bringing him by steps slow and
painful to the grave, and while nervous and feeble as an in-
fant, he wrote for the Nashville Christian Advocate the series
of articles under the head of “ Notes of Life.” They were
copied in nearly all the Church papers, and read with thrill-
ing interest by thousands, They seemed almost like mes-
sages from the spirit land. He showed all the vigor of style,
and elegance yet simplicity of diction, which had charac-
terized the productions of his matured manhood and when
in vigor of bodily health. In May he went to the Bishops’
meeting at Nashville, and attended a District Conference
at Hobson’s Chapel. He dedicated Wesley Hall and made
a speech on the occasion, of which this is a brief report:
“<This day, said he, ‘makes a new era in the history
of the Church. It is a day to be noted in our calendar.
I thank God that I have lived to see it, and to feel the in-
spiration of this occasion. Like the holy Simeon, though
I feel unworthy to use my name in connection with his,
I can say with a full heart, Nune dimittis.’ The ven-
erable Bishop then briefly reviewed the situation in the
South at the close of the war, and drew a graphic and touch-
ing picture of it as it lay bleeding and prostrate. ‘It was
at this juncture,’ he said, ‘that the gift of Commodore Cor-
nelius Vanderbilt came as a beam of light in the great dark-
ness. The founding of Vanderbilt University was the ful-
fillment of long cherished hopes, and it was the answer tu
many prayers.’ The Bishop spoke with great feeling, and
as he warmed with his theme his feeble frame seemed to
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 295

grow strong and his tremulous tones pealed out with the old
martial ring.” *

He was satisfied now to depart and be with Christ, for his
eyes had seen the completion of a hall in which for gener-
ations to come the young disciples of Christ were to be pre-
pared for the great work of the ministry. As he looked
upon this child of the Church, with holy reverence he
adopted the language of Simeon upon the dedication of the
child Jesus: “Now, Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart in
peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation.” He was able
to attend but two Conferences during this year. Feeble
and suffering, he presided at the Memphis Conference held
at Bolivar, Tenn. “At this Conference a resolution was
adopted unanimously, all standing—the Secretary putting
the question—expressive of the sentiments of the brethren
in regard to the venerable presiding Bishop, Paine, the object
of the reverence and love of the members, old and young:

Resolved, That we are devoutly thankful to God that in his prov-
idence he has spared our beloved and venerable senior Bishop—the
Rey. Robert Paine—to visit us once more as a Conference, and that
he has been enabled to preside with so much ability and satisfaction;
and we pray that the blessings of the great Head of the Church may
strengthen and sustain him in his declining life, and bring him in
peace to his grave and in blessed triumph to heaven.

T. L. Boswriz, J.D. Rusu,  T. H. Evans.

“Rev. T. L. Boswell delivered to the Bishop a very touch-
ing farewell address. To this address the Bishop, sitting in
his chair, made a most tender response touching all hearts.
A beautiful picture will that service long remain hanging
in a choice place in memory’s gallery. Hope, rich and
mellow, was the experience of our dear Bishop all through
the session, as shown in frequent utterances of lessons full
of wisdom and love. His words were those of one speaking
back to us from the land of rest and peace.” t

 

* Nashville Christian Advocate. t+ Ibid.
296 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

In January, 1882, while Bishop Peck of the Methodist
Episcopal Church, was holding a colored Conference in
Aberdeen, Miss., he was invited by Bishop Paine to pay
him a friendly social visit and dine with him. Other min-
isterial friends were invited to meet the Bishop and dine
also. Among them was the Rev. A. D. McVoy, President
of the Aberdeen Female College, who gives the following
‘ account of what took place on that very interesting occasion:

SYRACUSE AND ABERDEEN—A FRATERNAL SCENE.

The meeting of Bishop Jesse T. Peck with Bishop Robert Paine
was no ordinary occasion. They were together in the General Con-
ference of 1844, and to-day, January 21, 1882, Bishop Peck was in-
vited by Bishop Paine to dine with him. They had not seen each
other in thirty-eight years. Rev. J. C. Hartzell, D.D., of New Or-
leans, accompanied Bishop Peck by invitation. The resident min-
isters of the Methodist and Presbyterian Churches, together with
Rey. Amos Kendall, presiding elder of the Aberdeen District, were
also present. Bishop Peck was presiding over the Mississippi Con-
ference (colored), now in session at this place. It was a privilege to
listen to the conversation of these venerable servants of God. How
vividly they recalled their former days, when they were young and
active in the service. Naturally their minds went back to the mem-
orable Conference of 1844, and they dwelt amid those eventful
scenes, little dreaming, as Bishop Paine remarked, that they were
making history the outcome of which would be so large and so im-
portant to the people of this nation.

The speech of Bishop Pierce was recalled when he said: “Let
New England go; she has been a thorn in our flesh long enough.”
To which Bishop Peck replied: “New England cannot be spared,
nor South Carolina, nor Georgia, nor any other Southern State.”
Then the rejoinder of Bishop Pierce in which he said that possibly
he had been too severe, but that he meant no offense; and as for
Bishop Peck, he said: “I would not by my remarks ruffle one single
hair on the top of his head.” As Bishop Peck was bald even then,
this humorons reply was received by the large assembly with peals
of laughter. At the table Bishop Peck remarked that he enjoyed
richly Bishop Pierce’s pleasantry.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 297

 

Bishop Peck referred to the pleasure it always gave to see a man,
especially a minister, go down the hill of life gracefully, cheerfully,
and happily; and alluded to Bishop Scott of his own Church as af-
fording an illustration of what he meant. Bishop Paine contrasted
the experience of two aged ministers he had heard bid farewell to
their respective Conferences—the one going down sad and despondent
about earthly matters; the other a greater sufferer from adverse cir-
cumstances, but buoyant, cheerful, and hopeful, Bishop Peck there-
upon related the anecdote of the elder Adams, when in his old age
he said: “This tenement in which I have lived so long is going into
dilapidation, and as the owner does not propose to repair it, I am
making my arrangements to move out.” Bishop Paine remarked:
“T have long since lost all fear of death. I have passed that point
forever. Death has lost all its terrors for me. I know no moment,
except when asleep, that I am not racked with pain. It is a great
deprivation to be held in forced inactivity when there is so much
to be done for the Master; but the Lord knows best, and I submit
without a murmur to his will.” “Yes,” replied Bishop Peck, “I
know of your great labors in which the Lord has blessed you so
abundantly, and I rejoice to find you too going down life’s journey so
gracefully, cheerfully, and hopefully.”

Dinner was announced, and around the inviting board the conver-
sation ran on various topics. Bishop Peck spoke of his home in
Syracuse, and of his wife there who bid him Godspeed on his South-
ern tour; and turning to Mrs. Paine, he expressed what great pleas-
ure it would give him to entertain her and her husband in his Syra-
cusan home. He remarked that as he passed through Nashville he
looked with pride upon the great Publishing House and the stately
Vanderbilt. He entertained his little audience with an account of
his travels through Europe, of the Ecumenical, of the Conferences
he held, and especially of the great work in Sweden and Norway.
On our return to the parlor, and the time approaching for his return
to the cabinet, Bishop Paine requested a word of prayer from him
before they parted, in all probability never to see each other again
on earth. Standing before the fire by the side of Bishop Paine,
while we all stood around, he announced that he would sing these
beautiful words, “My latest sun is sinking fast, my race is nearly
run,” etc., to the tune of Land of Beulah; and with a firm and mellow
and pleasant voice he sung-through one verse and the chorus,“Come,
298 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

angel band,” etc., in which we all earnestly and feelingly joined.
There they stood, Bishop Paine just past his eighty-seccnd year,
and Bishop Peck his seventy-second, singing together their parting
song. Then we knelt in prayer, and Bishop Peck poured out his soul
in earnest and fervent supplication for his venerable brother in the
gospel, for his family, for the ministers present, and for the spread of
the gospel all over this Southern land as well as throughout the
world. Then came the parting scene, and Bishop Peck took leave
of one and all, remarking how much he had enjoyed this delightful
reunion with his good brother Bishop Paine.

Bishop Peck preached Sabbath night, in the Methodist Church
here, a strong gospel sermon to a large and interested audience. At
the close he sent his compliments to the choir, remarking how much
he enjoyed the exceedingly beautiful and grand music of the occa-
sion; and on parting, he said to Miss Ludie Paine, the Bishop’s
daughter: “Give my love to the Bishop, and tell him I shall long
remember yesterday’s interview; and as long as I live I will cherish
his letter of invitation over his own signature, as among my most
valued and choicest treasures.” A. D. McVoy.

Aberdeen, Miss., Jan. 23, 1882.

He continued exceedingly feeble and was really unable
to do any thing but suffer. We find this mournful entry on
February 15, 1882: “William May Wightman is dead!
He was a good and great man. Born January 29, 1808, in
Charleston, S. C. Aged seventy-four years and one month,
less one week. A cultured, consecrated life; a peaceful
death.” He, however, left home in April, 1882, for the
General Conference in Nashville, Tenn. He stood the trip
pretty well. After the reading of the Bishops’ quadrennial
address, a scene occurred in the General Conference rarely
equaled for deep solemnity and the exhibition of the no-
blest and tenderest Christian feeling. It was on the pres-
entation of Bishop Paine’s request to be relieved from
active service. But we reserve this for our next chapter.
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 299

 

CHAPTER XLIII.

Bishop Parne Retrrine—Dr. McFeErrin’s SprecH—BIsHoP
Pierce's ApDREsS—GREAT FreLinc—Deartu oF T. O. Sum-
MERS—ORDAINING NEw BisHops—RETURNING HomE To Diz.

ISHOP PAINE delivered the following address, request-
ing to be placed on the retired list, at the General Con-
ference in Nashville, May, 1882:

“Dear Brethren: While joining heartily with my col-
leagues in the address you have heard, I beg your indul-
gence to make a few remarks of a personal character.
During nearly sixty-five years, I have had the honor of be-
ing an itinerant Methodist preacher, and for thirty-six a
Bishop. In the General Conference of 1824 I was a dele-
gate, and as Bishop or delegate I have attended every session
sincethen. For the confidence in my reliability, indicated by
these facts, I wish now to return my most earnest gratitude.
To my much respected colleagues in the episcopacy, between
whom and myself the utmost cordial feelings have been unva-
ryingly maintained, I tender my thanks. They have gener-
ously supplied my lack of service by doing double duty.
And now, beloved brethren, worn down with age and in-
firmities, I ask to be permitted to retire from further active
service. Permit me, in conclusion, to congratulate you
upon the auspicious circumstances under which you have
met, and to remind you of your responsibility to God and
to his Church. Should it be allowed me, in making this
probably my last communication to a General Conference,
to express the results of my experience and observations as
to the doctrines and polity of our beloved Methodism, I
300 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

would say, after devoting a life-time to the study of its doc-
trines, my conviction as to their scripturalness has strength-
ened and my estimation of the importance of maintaining
the essential features of its polity has increased. I do most
devoutly thank God that in early life I became an itiner-
ant Methodist preacher, and have continued such. But
above all, I rejoice in the religious experience which Meth-
odism presents as the privilege of its members, and the ‘joy
unspeakable and full of glory.’ To enjoy this is the crown-
ing glory of the Christian life. I rejoice in a thorough con-
version, consciously attested by the witnessing Spirit, a pure
and consecrated daily life, and its end—if it can properly be
said ever to end—the crown of glory that fadeth not away.
For this culmination I shall beg calmly and with humble
confidence to wait until the pains and infirmities of this
life shall pass away. There may we meet again!”

Long before the venerable Bishop had ceased reading the
above, nearly all the members of the Conference were in
tears. No one who was present will ever forget the affect-
ing scene. When the address was finished the following
verses were sung with deep feeling:

Through many dangers, toils, and snares
T have already come;

’T is grace has brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home.

The Lord has promised good to me—
His word my hope secures;

He will my shield and portion be
As long as life endures,

Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease,

I shall possess, within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.

In tones indicating strong emotion the venerable Rev.
Dr. John B. McFerrin said:
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 301

 

“TI am too much overcome to take into consideration
the paper read by the senior Bishop. There should be
a proper response prepared and offered to the Bishop in
the presence of the Conference. Our esteemed and dis-
tinguished brother—I might say father—has been long
with us, was once a member of the Tennessee Conference,
and has belonged to no other Conference but the Tennessee
Conference. He is one of the few men—two or three—
that voted to receive me into the Conference many long
years ago. It has been my privilege in my humble way to
be associated with him for more than fifty years. He al-
ways won the esteem of every member of the Conference.
We all loved him, we always loved him, and since he has
been elevated to the episcopacy we have always claimed
him as a Tennessee Bishop. He has been in all our hearts,
and we want to live with him and to die with him. While
I say nothing to disparage any other Conference, nor dis-
pute the claims of any other, still I hope when God calls
the spirit away his body may be brought to Nashville and
be buried here, at the city where he commenced his work.
We love him greatly, and all the Church loves him. I
should like to say much more, but my feelings will not al-
low me.”

Bishop Pierce then said:

“Beloved Brother: Your colleagues and brethren re
joice to see you among them. We consider your pres-
ence a benediction. It seems to me to be a beautiful prov-
idence that you should have commenced your itinerant
career sixty-five years ago at this very point, and that after
concluding that circle of labors you are here in the pres-
ence of your brethren, asking from them retirement from
active service. Bless God that he has given to us your
service so long! that he has spared you to attend this Con-
ference. But while you cannot go forth in the Master’s
302 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

work, we may profit by your counsel, and rejoice in Chris-
tian fellowship with you. We do bless God that now, that
in the sunset of your life, you are among us, and that when
your sun shall go down you will pass into that heaven
made glorious by the memories of the past, and the joys of
the future. God bless you!”

The Bishop was much affected by the death of Dr. T. O.
Summers, which occurred almost at the beginning of the
Conference. Dr. Summers was a man of varied learning,
and of great versatility of talents. He was good and true,
and his death, so unexpected, was a grief to the whole
Church. Bishop Paine had been most intimately associat-
ed with him, and loved him greatly.

He took a lively interest in the work of the Conference,
and presided a short time on May 8. He remained at Nash-
ville in a suffering and feeble condition until after the elec-
tion of the Bishops. He led in the solemn services, and
laid his trembling hands upon the heads of Alpheus W.
Wilson, Linus Parker, John C. Granbery, and Robert Ken-
non Hargrove, consecrating them as Bishops in the Meth-
odist Episcopal Church, South. It may be a pleasure to
those Bishops to know what the Bishop wrote in his diary
concerning them. He wrote two words only, but they are
like apples of gold in pictures of silver: “Good and true.”
Such words from such a man are worth more to the new
Bishops than volumes of fulsome praise. Feeling unable
to remain longer at the General Conference, he returned
home on May 18. He was followed out of the Conference-
room by a few devoted friends, among whom were Captain
S. H. Dent, of Eufaula, Alabama, a delegate, and Dr. John
W. Hanner, sr. He talked like one inspired—so full of
his theme he did not seem to notice his old friend Dr.
Hanner. His wife, so tender of him and so careful of oth-
ers, called his attention to Dr. Hanner. The Bishop turned
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 803

 

to him with the deepest feeling, and holding out his trem-
bling hand, which was grasped lovingly by Hanner, he
said: “John, I will soon be home; Iam almost there. John,
you must meet me in heaven. Farewell! We’ll meet

again.”
304 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

CHAPTER XLIV.

Criostne ScENES—TRIUMPHANT TO THE Last.

E never again entered the room of the General Confer-
ence. In an incredibly short time he is again at home,
receiving all the tender care so grateful in his deep affliction.
On Sunday, May 28, he writes: “Bright, sweet Sunday;
but I can’t go to preaching. Trying to search myself. I
feel no great glow of religious joy, but a calm, humble trust
in the mercy of God through my Redeemer. My family —
cares sometimes harass me, but I try to lay them all on the
arm of Almighty Power and Infinite Love. I know that I
was converted, and that I now lovemy God; but I want the
fullness of the gospel of Christ. I want perfect love, con-
sciously attested by the Holy Spirit. O give me this!”
Although suffering so much, he still gave his Christian
sympathies to those in sorrow. On October 3 he penned
the following letter to Brother Brooks, of the North Mis-
sissippi Conference. He had been a great favorite in the
family of Brother Brooks, had baptized his children, and
had ever been the honored and welcome guest in his family.
One of the children had died, and learning of the sad event
the Bishop, with all the love of a tender-hearted John,
sent the bereaved family these words of sympathy and con-

solation:
ABERDEEN, Miss., Oct. 3, 1882.
Dear Brother Brooks: I have wanted to write you a word of Chris-
tian condolence and sympathy on the decease of your precious
daughter, but have been too sick; having mended a little lately, I
feel that I must do a0 to-day. We too have suffered, and know your
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 305

 

feelings. Let us endure to the end. Mine must be near, and thank
God I believe it will be a happy one. We can’t give up the battle
now—fought too long to surrender on the eve of final victory.
Wife and family join in much love and condolence, May we and
all ours meet in the better land!

Your old friend and brother in Jesus, R. Pane.

He was now confined permanently to the house, and never
passed a day without suffering. He noted the death of Sen-
ator Ben. Hill, of Georgia, as produced by cancer of the
tongue. “A great statesman, a peerless orator, a sound
Methodist Christian.” He made note also of the comet
which appeared in the autumn of 1882.

He had always loved astronomy. While on circuits, dis-
tricts, and stations he studied this sublime science in his ear-
ly manhood. His birth was on the night of November 12,
1799, made memorable by a shower of meteors. In 1833,
at Pulaski, Tenn., during Conference, he had witnessed these
celestial fire-works with an enthusiasm and an apprehension
of their true character which calmed the fears of all who
listened to his words of wisdom and learning. Now as he
was closing his career a magnificent comet could be seen in
the early morning sky. Feeble as he was, he must see this
strange visitor. So with the assistance of his devoted wife
and ever faithful daughter Ludie, he was made ready at three
o’clock A.m., and was permitted to enjoy the sight. Hethen
wrote in his diary: “The comet, pretty as a dream, seems
aearly stationary, but is going from us east, not to reippear
in three thousand five hundred years. Where shall we be
then? In heaven, I hope. God’s works glorious. Hope to
understand them better in heaven.” On October 9, his spir-
itual birthday, he writes: “Sixty-five years ago, three o’clock
p.m., at Davis Brown’s, Giles county, Tennessee, I was par-
doned and born again, my heart and life changed. I do not
think that I have since then wickedly departed from God.

20
306 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

I joined the Methodist Episcopal Church, and shortly after
commenced to preach. Ihave triedtodomyduty. Would
be a Methodist preacher had I my life to go over again.
Thanks forever, almost home!”

Just a few days before this he wrote his last’ letter. It
was to his old friend Dr. John B. McFerrin, and was in
these words:

I have suffered much since General Conference—better for a few
days past. Have still on hand a few “ Notes of Life,” written with
trembling nerves. They need revision. Perhapsif I improve I may
prepare them and add others; but I confess I doubt if I shall ever
be able to write much more. Thank God, I have no anxiety upon
this or any other matters. All I desire is more of God’s grace.

R. Pare.

Day and night suffering as few men of his age could suf
fer, he continued uttering words of wisdom, enough almost
to fill a volume. He was never able to revise his “Notes
of Life,” or to add another line to them. He continued in
bed, at intervals reading the Bible and conversing pleasant-
l; and hopefully with his family, until on the night of tne
18th of October, 1882, he became unconscious. On the 19th
he breathed his last, and his pure spirit was borne to heaven
at about four o’clock a.m. His departure was as quiet and
calm as his career had been trustful, and his whole life from
the age of eighteen had been dedicated to God and his work.

The following graphic account of his last moments and
of his funeral is given by his friend and son in the gospel
the Rey. Robert Paine Mitchell, who was with him often,
and wrote down his last utterances at the time:

“On Wednesday, the 18th instant, at about oneo’clock P.M.,
he became speechless, and as we supposed was in a dying
condition, and indeed thought he would not live more than
one hour; but he rallied a little about nine o’clock at night,
and we began to hope that he would yet recover conscious-
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 307

 

ness, and be able to talk to us, but he began to sink again
about two o’clock, and lingered until about twenty-nine min-
utes past four a.M., when quietly and without a struggle,
like an infant in its mother’s arms, he fell ‘asleep in Jesus,’
and his freed spirit winged its way to the bright world.
His last days were full of peace and holy triumph. Al-
most a book could be filled with expressions of wisdom as
well as joy which fell from his lips during the last few
months of his life. The writer visited him two days before
his death, and these were the last words he ever heard him
utter: ‘Brother, I am at perfect peace with God and all
mankind. I can trust my Heavenly Father implicitly. I
have no anxiety about the future” On the 9th of October,
his spiritual birthday, he made in his diary a triumphant
and thankful record, and the last record, nervously traced
by his trembling hand, was, ‘Almost home, thank God!’
Among the last expressions before he became speechless
was a repetition of the long meter doxology, ‘Praise God,
from whom all blessings flow,’ etc.; and thus in his very last
hours he gave strong evidence of his abiding confidence in
God. When speaking of dying, he always said, ‘I have no
fear of death as to its results, but I dread the physical suf-
fering which must attend the dissolution of soul and body,’
and frequently asked his friends to pray that he might be
delivered from great bodily suffering in his last moments.
God graciously spared him all pain; there was not a strup-
gle or groan. As soonas he was dead Bishop McTyeire was
notified by telegraph, and requested to attend his funeral.
He reached Aberdeen on Friday night, and the funeral-
services were held in church on Saturday at twelve o’clock.
The Bishop was assisted by Revs. Amos Kendall, presiding
elder of the district, A. D. McVoy, 8. A. Steele, John H.
Scruggs, R. G. Porter, and the writer. Brothers Kendall,
Scruggs, McVoy, Steele, Porter, Long, Kilgore, and H. B.
808 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

Scruggs acted as pall-bearers. The church was handsomely
and tastefully draped for the occasion. Just back of the pul-
pit, midway between the floor and the ceiling, encircled by
a wreath of flowers, were printed these tender words, ‘Our
Bishop,’ and underneath the book-board on the front of the
pulpit the word ‘ Rest’ was woven in evergreens and flowers,
and the whole surrounded with drapery significant of the
sorrow felt not only by us here, but by the whole Church.
The corpse was met at the door of the church by the pas-
tor, and the solemn service read as it was borne down the
aisle to the chancel, when the Rev. J. H. Scruggs announced
hymn 739, which was rendered very feelingly by the choir;
Rey. R. G. Porter read the ninetieth psalm, and Rev. S.
A. Steele the fifteenth of 1 Corinthians, and the choir sung
hymn 716, announced by Rev. A. D. McVoy. The Bish-
op’s remarks were founded on Matt. xvi. 18. His discourse
was strong and comforting, and the delineation of the char-
acter of the deceased full and complete. The spacious au-
ditorium of our church was filled to its utmost capacity.
The poor of the place, the merchants, and schools each
turned out in procession, thus showing the high apprecia-
tion the community had of this venerable man of God. O
how we shall miss him, his wise counsels, his cheerful words,
his godly example! Let the Church everywhere pray for
his stricken family. R. P. Mires.”

All that was mortal of the great and good man now sleeps
in the cemetery of Aberdeen.. Dr. E. R. Hendrix gives the
following brief statement, summing up. the progress of the
Church of which he was a pillar and an ornament for sixty-
five years. Let it not be forgotten that during all these
years he contributed largely to this prosperity, and that he
has now received the welcome, “ Well done, good and faith-
ful servant:”

“Bishop Paine has just ‘fallen asleep’ at the ripe age of
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 309

 

eighty-three. His life, which began just before the dawn
of the present century, may help to measure to some minds
what progress Christianity has made during a single human
life. When Bishop Paine was born in 1799 there were but
seven Protestant missionary societies; now there are seventy.
‘When he was yet an infant there were only one hundred and
seventy missionaries; now there are over two thousand four
hundred ordained missionaries, besides hundreds of ordiined
native preachers and over twenty-three thousand native nelp-
ers, catechists, teachers, etc. Then there were not ove: fifty
thousand converted heathen under the care of evangelical
missions; now there are one million six hundred and fifty
thousand. In fact, in one year (1878) more souls were con-
verted from heathenism than could be found in all the mis-
sions when Robert Paine was born. Then the entire income
from missions was less than one-quarter of a million dollars;
now it reachesoversix million. Then the number of evangel-
ical mission-schools was seventy ; to-day they are twelve thou-
sand, with more than four hundred thousand students. Then
there had been published five million copies of the Bible in
fifty languages; to-day one hundred and forty-eight million
copies may be found in whole or in part in two hundred and
twenty-six languages and dialects. If a single human life
may witness such marvelous progress as that in heathen
lands, what courage should possess every soldier of Christ!”
310 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

CHAPTER XLV.
Summine Ur or His Lire AND CHARACTER.

E have endeavored carefully to give the facts in a life
going far beyond the usual limits. We have seen our
subject in his boyhood, youth, manhood, and in old age.
We have looked into his whole life as a boy at school, a
merchant’s clerk, a sincere seeker of religion, a happy
Christian, a young preacher traveling a circuit, stationed
in towns, becoming presiding elder and a delegate to the
General Conference at the age of twenty-four years. Then
we have seen him as president of a college, and finally as
Bishop of the whole Church, doing efficient work for the
cause of God for more than sixty years. Now we are pre-
pared to make a brief summary of his character.

1. He was a man of indomitable energy. He spent as
few moments unemployed as any one we have ever known.
He was the active boy, the diligent student, the: faithful
preacher, the laborious college president, and the indefati-
gable Bishop. From the age of eighteen to the time he was
so worn by disease as to be unable to leave his home, he
was ever on the go, “always at work.”

2. He was possessed of inflexible firmness. He was by
no means a stubborn man. His was the firmness of astrong
will, and not of violent passion. It was the firmness of the
highest manhood, and was in no respect akin to the stub-
bornness of a fierce animal blinded by beastly passion. A
man taking position at the dictate of passion is very far re-
moved from the man whose position is taken and held at
BISHOP OF THE M. E, CHURCH, SOUTH. 311

 

the dictate of reason and conscience. A stubborn man
never listens to the dictates of reason or to the voice of
conscience. Blinded by passion, he heeds not the calls of
the higher principles of his nature. A man of firmness is
calm. No perturbation of disordered feelings, no violence
of tyrannical passion, sways or controls him. He is gov-
erned by principle. He is selfpossessed. He stands un-
moved amid all the clamors of appetite and the influences
beneath which the weak fall prostrate. Such was the firm-
ness of Bishop Paine. It was rational. It was thoroughly
conscientious, and was not in the least produced by a par-
oxysm of blind feeling, however deep. It was the decision
of the self-poised man, the determination arising from calm
convictions undisturbed by the perturbations of passion.

3. He was as brave as he was firm. He was a stranger
to fear. Where duty called there he was found, in the
midst of epidemics or facing wrathful men threatening his
life. His courage led him to be faithful to duty often at the
risk of his life.

4, His magnanimity was of the highest order. He was
never known to do a little, mean thing. He was above all
this. He would shoulder any responsibility demanded by
his position and undergo any obloquy to shield his brethren
from unjust reproach.

5. Bishop Paine was a writer of far more than ordinary
merit. He was an accurate English scholar and a good
rhetorician. He seldom made a mistake. He became al-
most rigid as a critic from his great desire as a teacher to
prevent his pupils from becoming extravagant or bombastic
in their written exercises. He was a great pruner. He re-
moved all inappropriate and redundant words. He applied
this criticism to his own productions. His style as a writer
was neat and often elegant, but never gorgeous. In ex-
temporaneous addresses, especially in his young days, his
312 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

powerful imagination may have indulged in flights not in
accordance with the most rigid demands of pure taste; but
he never allowed this to mar his written productions. He
may therefore be justly classed among our best writers.

6. He was great in his attainments. He was a practical
geologist of the first class. Had he devoted himself entirely
to this department, he would have been the equal of any
scientist in the land. As it was, he was the first to foretell
the immense mineral resources of Alabama and of the
West. As a philosopher, he was not a whit behind the
greatest of the age. He had mastered the science of mind
and morals, and was a most astute logician and a splendid
lecturer.

7. He was a gospel preacher in the fullest sense of that
word. He loved gospel themes, and he presented them
with clearness and in demonstration of the Spirit. He was
a profound theologian. In this department he kept pace
with the age. He not only read and thoroughly digested
Richard Watson, John Wesley, and all the old fathers of
Methodism, but he was familiar with the productions of the
best writers of this age on the doctrines of our beloved
Christianity. He read the most recent commentators and
studied them thoroughly. He read the religious quarter-
lies both of his own Church and of other branches of the
Church. He was among the first to secure any new work
and to read it with care and full appreciation. It was this
constant reading and continuous exercise of his mental
powers that kept up their vigor to the last. He was at
times a preacher fit to be ranked with the greatest ever de-
veloped by our holy Christianity. He glowed with seraphic
fire. His clear and full exposition of divine truth; his rigid
and masterful logic; his caustic satire; his language rich,
chaste, and classical; his imagination original, creative, and
cultured; his taste refined and almost faultless; and added
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 313

 

to all this, a voice full, clear, and sonorous, and a heart all
alive with divine love, and with the Holy Spirit attending
every utterance—all these, united in one great sermon,
placed him among the most gifted of sacred orators, the
most powerful of gospel preachers. I have heard him when
he seemed inspired, and J am sure that I have not exag-
gerated his great power as a preacher of the gospel of the
Lord Jesus Christ.

8. He wasa great Bishop. He was thoroughly acquaint-
ed with ecclesiastical law, and he had the decision of char-
acter which enabled him to carry it out. He presided with
dignity and authority unmixed with the least exercise of
arbitrary power. He was as free from tyranny on the one
hand as he was from lack of decision on the other. He
was impartial and thoroughly just. He understood his
duty, and he did it in the fear of God. A Methodist Bishop
is invested with great power. He could make himself an
autocrat. He could become a source of great evil by the
exercise of arbitrary power. Then he might do great harm
to the Church by having his favorites among the preachers.
He was neither arbitrary nor partial. He was strong and
self-poised. He united the gentleness of a woman with the
strength of the brightest Christian manhood. Thus he was
a model Bishop.

9. He wasa Christian. He was under the baptism of the
Holy Ghost for sixty-five years, and was thoroughly conse-
crated to the service of God and his Church. He had no envy
or pride, and he was the embodiment of truth. He “bore all
things, believed all things, hoped all things, endured all things,
never behaved himself unseemly, and thought no evil.” Asa
Christian he was bright and cheerful. He indulged in no
bitterness, but grew sweeter in spirit as age and infirmities in-
creased. He did not profess sanctification, and yet he had
the perfect love which took away all fear and removed all
314 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D.

 

anxiety—the perfect love which enabled him to say, “Iam
almost home,” and to say, “I know the landing on the
other shore, and it is safe.”

Such a man was Bishop Paine. As husband and father,
and in all the relations of life, he was without a soil upon
his garments—a perfect and an upright man, one that
feared God and hated evil. He is gone, and this picture,
drawn by the loving hand of an old and devoted pupil,
is now presented to the Church as a correct likeness of
one whose sublime virtues should not only excite our ad-
miration and win our love, but determine our imitation.
This picture—in which the utmost accuracy has been
sought, and in which the effort has been made to draw every
lineament true to the life—is now sent upon its mission with
the prayer that thousands may be made wiser and better
by its examination. It is now before the reader. Gaze
upon it until the majesty of the great original shall so im-
press you that you will feel that you are in close company
with the model Bishop, the pure Christian, the powerful
preacher, the eminent servant of God. In this company I
leave you.

Tae Enp.