BX 8495 .H4 A3 1853 Henry, G. W. b. 1801. | Trials and triumphs (for half a century) in the lifi 1 Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2014 https://archive.org/details/trialstriumphsfoOOhenr_0 i frials anil (Triuiujjbs (FOR HALF A CKNTUJ IN THE LIFE OF G. AV. HEXm KXPEBIENCED WHILE SOJOtRSlSG FORTY OXE YEAR 1-V THE SL0V6U OF DESPOXP, TWILIGHT, AND SIX YEARS IS THE L TOGETHER WITH THE RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE TO WHICH ARE ADDEII. (Pnc tjunibrcii Spiritual Songs, roitli Ulnsic. Thy land shall be called Beiilah.— Isa. Ixii, 4. SECOND EDITIOX, PUBLISHED FOR THE AUTHOR. 200 MULBERRY-STREET, NEW-YORK. iitoied according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, BY G. W. HENRY, tlie (Jlerk's Office of the District Conrl of tlie Southern District of New-York. PREFACE. Respected Keadek, — 1 am about to put forth to the world the second edition of the history of my life. As in the first, so also in the second edition, two ob- jects present themselves to my view. Fii-st : to in- form the reader what a great Saviour a great sinner hath found ; and pray most fervently that he might take courage, and if he has not alreatly done it, start this moment from ruin's brink, and take refuge under his almighty wing, and be happy now and hereafter. Secondly : — another motive in sending forth this silent preacher and narrative, is to make it a channel in conveying temporal blessings to the cottage of a poor blind man, and his afflicted family, — ^in short, to do good and get good. I have also been en- couraged to put forth the second edition, because 4 I'KEFACE. luiiidictis liave told me they had been greatly blessed ill reading tlio blind man's book ; and some of those that fii'st found their way to the school district libraries were worn out the first three years, and a second volume purchased by the trustees. Another reason is: there were some little mistakes in the first edition, which I wish to correct, as I know this little book will live, and speak, and have its influ- ence after the author has passed the portals of death, and meet him at the general judgment. Another l eason, and that I tliink more prominent than all the rest: 1 had just entered into the suburbs of the land of Beulah, or peifect light, when the fii'st edi- tion was issued. T wish, therefore, to inform the reader something about its boundaiies, the fertility of the soil, and of its delicious fruits ; of its gigantic inhabitants and bulwarks ; and encourage the reader to sell all, pack uj), and move over at once. The Scripture truly hath said, " It is a goodly land ;" but as far as I have travelled, the half never was told me. T have not a single ajwlogy If make on tho subject, or commeiulation. The book must speak for itself, and tlie reader may judge for himseltl He will, doubtless, find it, like the unpretending au- tlior, no great things, but a life of half a century made up of getting into difficulty, and then getting out again ; but I hope the kind reader will shun the evil, and embrace the good, if good he can find, in such a life of errors. This is not wiitten with any feeling of vainglory; for there are many things the author will be bound to write, which he could heartily wish might not be found in the review of his life, but which he believes, through sovereign mercy, and the goodness of God, arc all forgiven. The picture of my life will have something tlie appear- ance of Nebuchadnezzar's image. If we begin to look at its feet, they were part of iron and part of clay ; while its legs were of iron : so the outset of my life was comparatively worthless. As we ele- vate the eye, we find the material of the image increasing in beauty and value ; for its thighs were made of brass. Looking a little higher, we find its richness still increases; for its arms were 6 PREFACE. of silver. And as we look upon the head of the statue, we find it a lump of pure gold, of a thousand times more value than all the rest of the image. So, reader, if you travel with me from the follies of my youth to the present time, you will find me in the gold region, or in the land of Beulah, where I am not able to count my riches, but am still digging for more. And unto the divine hand, who, througli his sovereign mercy and boundless grace hath brought me into these gold legions, is this work, with all my ransomed ]X)wei"8, most solemnly dedicated. Amen. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. The Author's birth and parentage Page 13 Remarks on human nature — Phrenological character, by O. S. Fowler— A cure for light-flngered propensities, tobacco-chewing, gambling, and drunlienness 14 CHAPTER III. The Author a "lady's man"— Account of first courtship and first Ijall, with comments contrasting society for tliirty years 28 CHAPTER IV. Military career— Coal-burning — Wall-laying — Pretty daughter — Boiled pudding— Musical instrument— Advice 40 CHAPTER V. Hires out to a farmer- Horse-racing— Refusing to bet— Turns ped- ler — Pedlers and mothers compared- Goes to making cow-bells —Partnership— Takes a tour West- Incident— Returns and set- tles in Frankfort— Temporary blindness— Trip to New-York— .Adventures — Dreams — Pocket-book speculation — Unfavourable issue— .\. sudden death— Universalist sermon— Solemn reflec- tions rA CHAPTER VI. Tavern-building— Bad luck— Bell-making again— Failure— Removal to Pennsylvania— Another attack of blindness— Contract on Pub- lic Works- Building locks— More misfortune— Petitions Legis- lature for remuneration for loss— Granted— Railroad contract- Extensive business with small capital— Bad luck again— The U. 8. Bank— Stops paymcnt—Tavern-kceping— Consequent misfor- tune—Polilicnl changes 72 CONTENTS. CIIAPTKU VJI. U. S. Bank of Pennsylvania chartered— Another raih-oad contiact — The old ^ foe, bad luck, again— Bank shut — Rotten currency — Canal contract — Lawsuit — Favourable decision — Reflections — Further history of the U. S. Bank of Pennsylvania — Political strife— Death of the "Monster"— A retrospect— Courtship and marriage Page 94 CHAPTER VIII. Introduction to Spiritual Life, and last contract — Steam mill in Virginia— Prospects bright for a large fortune— Reflections on his religious views— Lorenzo Dow's sermon — Pleasure excursion on the holy Sabbath— Sickness and arrest — Sudden death of a be- loved daughter — Severe sickness at Martiusburg — Depreciation of currency— Property and hopes of fortune blighted— A solemn night in Baltimore — Visit to Col. Colston — Remarks on Slavery — Perilous advcntui o and providential rescue fVom a watery grave — Kyosiijht failill^'— Last attempt to mend a broken fortune— Ad dro.ss to the l eader— Pulls up stakes for Pennsylvania 108 CHAPTER IX. Total blindness— Covenant with God — First time at mourner's bench — Devices of the devil — 'Wrestling in prayer — To the reader — More devices of the adversary — Goes to Washington — Remark- able dream— Its cfl'ect upon his mind— Visits a physician- No re- lief for blindness— Goes to Baltimore — His associate's character described— Settling business— Methodist meetings— A Love-feast —Asks the prayers of the brethren— More penance for sin— Prayer- meeting— The Sabbath and the first communion — .\nguish of mind lest guilty of sin in so doing — Hope and despair alter- nate—The Bible— Singular coincidence in turning to a particular, passage — Horrible doubt — Another remarkable dream, and its singular likeness to the one at Washington— Faith strengthened and hope renewed— Return to Pennsylvania — Attends quarterly meeting— Love-feast— The devil again at work— Deep conviction — Fear of prejudice — Goes to the Presbyterian Church — Remarks deduced from this course- No relief, and less conviction— At Greeneastle, Pennsylvania — Another dream, and its similarity to those of Washington and Baltimore— A crumb from the Master's table — A camp-meeting— Retires for prayer in the solitude of the forest— No relief— On the mourners' bench again— Displays of God's power — Tremblings and spasms — The devil at his old tricks— Unitarianisni— Trouble of mind about the Trinity— Thun- der-slorm— Hope revivfd— lielrospeotiou— Sins forgiven 137 CONTENTS. CHAPTER X. Spiritual Life continued— Thouglits on the new bivlh— Heavenly joy— Review of the past— No sectarianism— All Christians speak the language of Canaan — Camp-meeting continues — The pi-ayei- meeting — Another assajilt of the arch-fiend — Temptations ami spasms— Asks God agsiin for relief- The light shines in upon his soul — Victory — The camp-meeting breaks up — Return home — Prayer for his wife's conversion— First letter to his mother— An- other camp-meeting, compo^ied of negroes and white people — More remarks on Slavery— A rich gospel feast— Tlioughts on the movings of the Spirit— Satan busy again— Happy scene in the preachers' tent, and close of the meeting Page 102 CHAPTER XI. Spiritual Life continued— Another camp-meeting— Satan renews his attacks — ConviUsions — The Spirit grieved — Prayer and relief —A glance at business— The depravity of the human heart— Cor- porations have no souls — Consolations of the gospel— Story of the converted heathen 186 CHAPTER XII. Death of his father-in-law— Reflections from Dr. Young, suggested by that event — The first prayer at the family altar — Worldly tri- als and temptations — Account of his wife's seeking religion — Prayer for her conversion — The appeal answered, and her change of heart — Reflections on the danger of carnal security 191 CHAPTER XIII. Trip to the North- Another remarkable dream— Happiness on awaking— Thoughts on the resurrection—Journey to the South —Visit to the Blind Institute, Philadelphia— Determines to learn brush-making- Description of the institution— Interesting inter- view with the pupils— Return to Greencastle— A little about 5Ior- monism— Goes to work at his new trade— Success in brush-making —Reflections 200 CHAPTER XIV. Spiritual life conliuuetl— The doctrine of holiness of heart and en- tire sanctlfication— His mind awakened to the subject — A sermon, and his contest with the minister — Prayer for the blessing of |)erfect love 210 10 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XV. I.ii'eiiseil to,ex)ioi l— First attempt at Greencastle— The devil busy again, and trouble in speaking— Resolution to do the will of the Lord, according to the strength given— Further experience in exhorting, and success— Another camp-meeting— Thoughts on camp-meetings generally — His happiness during the period — The breaking up of the assembly, and the parting scene- Return to the place of his boyhood— An additioii to the family circle — Preaches at Grain's Corners— The devil's whispers— Victory over the adversary — Licensed to preach — More attacks from Satan — Another dream — Favourable interpretation — Success in preaching —Jacob and his dream Page 213 CHAPTER XVL Deep conviction for holiness — The gold-diggei's — ^Unbelief— Foul birds — Presumption — Unworthiness — Sanctification essential to preserve justification — Hlastrated — A great mistake — Price of the spotless robe— Darling reputation— Camivmeeting— Brother Gor- liam relates his experience — The author sanctified — Entrance into Beulah— Scriptural terms- Address to the reader— Recapitu- lation—The three friends 221 CHAPTER XVII. Address to the reader— Christ's mercy— Five events— The land of Beulah— Close of the camp-meeting— Grave-clothes— The second touch in the case of the blind man 238 CHAPTER XVIII. Visit to a backslidden brother— Moral courage— The devil turned out-doors — Pure motives — First Sabbath after camp-meeting — Coat of mail— The devil's chief business— Blunderbuss— The preacher's diploma 243 CHAPTER XIX. Mrs. Henry— Marriage a type of Christ's union with his Churcli— Promises to the poor — Narrative resumed — Prayer for a dear wife —Trials— Mrs. Henry joins her luisband in Beulah— Rapture- Little boy and girl converted 249 CHAPTER XX. Religious state of Frankfort— Prayer-meeting at the blind man's cottage— Faith— Growth in grace— The water-level— Father Roper — Protrneted meeting— Mr«. Henry'' oxhnrtntions— A dream.. 334 COXTEXTS. C HAPTER XXI. A misslonnr>" spirit — Praise acceptable to God — Birth of the author's little book— Capital stock— Instruments selected by God— The jaw-bone— Encouragement— Faith in the midst of difficulties— The little book printed— Sale of books— Itinerant Held- The mind's daguerreotype of ft-iends — Remarks — ^Thc old man's time to shout * Page 260 CHAPTER XXII. Camp-meeting iu M'Connellsville — Mrs. Henry's affliction — Sister Koon— The reward of self-denial— Brother Squii-es— Descent of holy fire — Cure of spiritual pride — Elizabeth AVard — Faith's vic- tory—Brother Hartwell— Leaping for joy— Love-feast— Battle- grounds— Camp-meeting in Schuyler — The balloonist — Making money out of the devil — ^The test of Christian graces — Subjects of prayer 2(iS CHAPTER XXIII. Birth of a son — The night-blooming Cereus — The idol — Death of Charles Emorj — Consolation of religion— Poetry— Value of perfect love estimated — Illustration — Danger — Prayer 270 * CHAPTER XXIV. Blessed trials — Resignation — Committing to memory i)ortions of Scripture — The miner's wife — The joy of faith— Counting up riches— Faith in God's promises— Health restored— Mrs. Henry on Mount Pisgah — Affliction — Mrs. Henry near death — The au- thor's prayer and exercise of faith — Wonderful display of divine l)ower — Improved health of Mrs. Henrj- — The physician— Inci- dent 279 CHAPTER XXV. Rev. .Ies.sc Penfield— Methodist church built in Frankfort— Glorious revival— Brother Wyatt— The great feast— Brother Henrj- drunk, with the wine of the kingdom — Comparison between the two kinds of wine— Two recipes— Good morning, brother pilgrim.. 287 CHAPTER XXVI. Prospects brightening- The great book-auction— Visit to the Blind Institute— The class-meeting— Remarks— Iticident^The Sabbath- school 298 ]2 C'OXTKNTS. OHAPTEK XXVII. Ki lling books— Opportunities for usefulness— Conversion of Charles Wendall— Mrs. Henry's diary Page .103 CII.^PTER XXVIII. Labours at the poor-house— Granny Taylor— The pauper and the poor-master— The duty of the rieli— Dives and Lazarus— Gew- gaws—Preacher's salary- The silver hubs— Soiling Heaven .. 310 CII.\PTER XXIX. Canip-meeting at Augusta — Peculiar exercises— The lawyer's lady —The lame healed .".21 CHAPTER XXX. Birtli of a son— Disappointed hopes— Loss of a horse— Subscription raised— Another providence — Tlio infidel and the old saint — Be- nevolence of Judge Wright and L. M. Brown — Five dollars for one— A word to local preachers .129 CHAPTER XXXL liellections — The cause of tenificrance — Reasons for joining the Sous of Temperance— Slavery— Mrs. Stowe— Narrative resumed— Re- marks uiKjn holiness — Close 3S8 LIFE OF GEORGE W. HENRY. CHAPTER I. I was born in Hatfield, Massachusetts, January G, 1801. My fathei-, Robert M'Knight Henry, was reared in tlie city of Hartford, Conn. My mother's maiden name was Chirissa Merry, daughter of John Mei'ry, of West Hartford, near the city of Hartford. Soon after my birth, my parents removed to Her- kimer County, N. Y., where T have ever since re- sided, excepting the time I was engaged on pubhc works at the Soutli. My ftither died when I was about three yeaj-s old, and I have no remembrance of him. When I was about six yeare old, niy mother married again to a farmer, by the name of Thomas Kinney, then and now residing in the town of Litchfield, in this county, with whom she is still living. I am her only child. To detail the events of my boyhood, which was marked by nothing extraordinary until I was about eighteen yeai-s old, wlien I commenced business tor myseltj would be but little better than a waste of 14 TRIALS AMI I'KIL.MI'HS IN THE paper, and a loss of time to the reader to peruse it. Suffice it to say, that during that time I lived with my relatives, worked on a farm summers, and went to school winters ; and, like the generality of boys of that age, was more fond of play than study, and more fond of hunting than work. Nevertheless, I am thankful that I was always kept tolerably close to work. CHAPTER II. Throughout the family of mankind, every indi- vidual seems to have some leading propensity, which accom2)anies him through life, and determines his fortune. Or, as it has been said : " There 's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them as we may." And as "the proper study of mankind is man," and more especially the study of one's self, I have given my attention somewhat to the observation of " man," as developed in others as well as in myself. I have learned, in the course of my life, that we know but little of our neighbours until we have had dealing with them in some business operation. I have found a great many men virtuous and appa- rently honest, till a tempting opportunity was pre- sented for them to be otherwise, and tlien their vir- tues and honesty, like some ]>eoj)le's patience, when LIFE OF G. W. IlENUY. 15 most needed, were found to be absent. Men are not always what they appear. In the course of my diversified life, having experienced almost every va- riety of fortune, from opulence down to pinching poverty, from brilliant success in business to perfect failure, I have often proved the old adage true, that piosperity gains friends, but adversity tries them. But as it is my business to give the events of my own life in this narrative, I shall, in the outset, pre- sent the reader with a picture of my character, as drawn by Mr. O. S. Fowler, in 1837, and leave the reader to compare this picture with the facts I shall narrate, and judge whether it is " drawn to the life." When the phrenologist had finished examining my head, and committed it to writing, I read it care- fully over : when I came to any portion that looked rather bright, that I was >villing to accept as about as it should be ; but in perusing the whole picture, I found quite a number of features not very pleasing to look upon. At these I shook my head in some doubt ; but on the " sober second thought," I was forced to yield myself a convert to the science of phrenology, and I can say like the woman at the well of Samaria, I found a man that knew all about me. I shall leave the reader to draw his own con- clusions, and entertain his own views, of the science of phrenology. It will bo remembered that I was a perfect stranger to Mr. Fowler. But I can go no further with phrenology than the natural man is concerned ; although some degree of enterprise, and 1(5 TRIALS AKD TKIUMFHS IN THE very likely the natural bent of mind may be carried out in spiritual things, as in the case of Paul after his change from nature to grace ; Paul the apostle now showed the same degree of zeal and enterprise in preaching the gospel from city to city, that Saul of Tarsus had before done in persecuting the Church of God. His propelling powers had only taken an opposite direction. The predominant principle is equally seen in both characters, which only shows that the most salutary gifts of God may be per- verted to the worst purposes. And without some such pervei'sion of the original gifts of Deity, the faculties of the mind, either by the immediate pos- sessor of them, or by his progenitors, (for deformities like debts may be entailed,) it cannot be doubted that their manifestation would be always right. But man has sinned, and grace must purify the heart. But I promised to give you the words of the phrenologist. Here you have them, and you must judge for yourself: — " Capt. G. W. Henry is a most peculiar genius, and possesses strong powers of thought, and very strong passions, both of love to friends, and of hatred to enemies. He will go any length to assist those to whom he takes a fancy ; and yet his hatred and vengeance are most bitter, and his remarks about them biting, sarcastic, and caustic. His jokes both sting and tickle. He compares the objects of his displeasure to some most disagreeable object, and has a most violent temj^er. He will bear long be- LIKE OK Ci. W. UKSKy. 17 fore he gets tiiUy roused ; yet, after that, wont be pacified, and is quite haughty. His powers of mind are great, (to where lie will he cuts a figure, and is always bold, enteri)risiiig, eflicient, resolute, drives all before him ; yet is much more cautious than he. appeai-s to be ; plans on a large scale, and thinks that /te can do almost anj^hing that anybody else can do; hiis the utmost confidence in himself; is thoroughgoing in all tliat he undertakes ; will please himself fii-st, and others afterwards, and never can cancel his opinions, or cliange liis course of conduct in order to get the jwpular favour ; is always honourable, yet very conscientious ; does not know that lie can do wrong ; never takes advice ; exces- sively fond of debate and opposition, and courts con- test ; great in argument, and will do well to make slump speeches ; loves to get money, and will not allow one cent that belongs to him to l>e tsiken from him, and yet spends it extravagantly, and must al- ways liave the best ; has a great share of mechanical genius, and is really a genius in making, building, or constructing anything that lie bxkes hold of; can invent and contrive ways and means to etJect mechanicsil operations which are new, and just answer the purpose; will make a wonderful man tor engineering, etc. ; builds also a great many castles in the air : full of hope, and promises himself the greatest success : one of the best naturetl of men when he takes a fancy ; not at all devout or religious, \ery incredulous ; a very great lady's man. Gt)es lb TKIALS ANJ) riUl Ml'll.-s IN lill-; the whole figure in everything ; blows out his whole mind, and has no hypocrisy ; eminently courageous, fond of children, and will do a great business. " O. S. FOWLEK. "June 28tli, 1837." Here you have Mr. Fowler's opinion of the man ; and I would again remark, that he Lad never seen or heard of me until I was placed under his hands. Let us take a stand here, in the middle of our jour- ney of life, and take a look backwards and forwards, - and see how much tiiic character the phrenologist has guessed out ; for it is said that guess-work is as good as any, if you only guess right. As Mr. Fowler has given some good and some bad, I sliall be obliged to do the same, as I told you in the begin- ning I should have to ; and as some things must be told which may not be palatable to the sober and gray-headed reader, I shall ask him to skip over all such incidents, and pass on to where he will find something better suited to his taste, and leave the lighter subjects to such as relish them. There are foiu- vicious, or sinful besetments, to which I have been subject at some periods of my life ; and in stating what they are, I will also give their preventive or cure. They are theft, gambling, tobacco-chewing, and drunkenness. The phrenolo- gist has stated that 1 was always honourable; but you know it is said there aiv excejitions to all general rules. It is so in this case. In looking my life over carefully, 1 have no recollection of committing more LIFE OF O. \\ . HKNKY. I'J than one single act \vliereby I exposed myself to the penal law of my country, although I find a thousand errors and mistakes. I recollect that when I was quite a little boy, I had a most ardent desire for a penknife, and it was a rare thing in those days for a boy of my age, li\nng in the country, to have a knife, or a sixpence to get it with. But I had occasion to go to New-Hartford, a village a few miles from my home; there I entered a large store -without any money, or any expectation of getting a knife, and requested the merchant to show me some of his arti- cles. He immediately handed down a pack of knives, and laid them on the back end of a long counter, and told me the price of them was two shilHngs and sixpence, and left me to examine them, while he stepped to the other end of the counter to ti-ade with some more profitable customers. The knives suited me to a T. Here was a moment of as severe temptation, probably, as I ever had in my whole life. Now, there is no sin in being tempted, for our Saviour himself was tempted. But the ini- (juity lies in yielding to the temptation ; which, un- fortunately, was the case with your flaxen-haired author. It was all done in a moment. The devil (I suppose we have a right to charge him with such things) said, " Fob it." My pockets were all marked " M. T.," [empty.] Instead of reflecting whether che All-seeing Eye was upon me, I cast an eye around to the merchant who was busy with his customers. The knife was fobbed, and I sneaked 2U THIALS AND TlUl M1>US IN THE out of doors. 0 ! how I remember that day, tliough nearly forty years have since rolled away. But, alas ! it was a dear knife to me. It haunted me like the knife of King Macbeth, with which he cut the throat of Duncan, which ever after the bloody deed, while the ghost of Duncan with the throat cut from ear to ear appeared to harrow u^) his imagina- tion, hung over the head of the guilty king dripping with the blood of his victim. 0 ! what would I not have given, soon after I left the store, to have had that knife safely in its pack lying upon the mer- chant's shelf, and my conscience relieved from the sting of guilt ! although no mortal man under the heavens knew it but myself. And the very name of New-Hartford would bring a guilty blush upon my cheek. Here I might spin out many ^lages in portraying the remorse I felt until time and business lulled memory to sleep. O ! my dear little flaxen- haiied readers, I tell this incident for your benefit, that if you should be tempted in a like manner, you should at once remember the knife at New-Hartford. In such a temjHation, ask God to give you help to resist, and always remember that honesty is the best policy. " Whene'er temptation lingers nigh, Remember God's all-seeing eye." I fain would give this some other name than theft, but there is none other that suits it so well. This through grace divine has ever proved an effectual preventive to the repetition of any such I.IFK OK t;. \V. IIKNIIV. •21 mean and dislionoiirable act. Tliis was done wliile the conscience was as tender as the apple of the eye. Had I pursued this wicked coui-se, I might soon have stolen a hoi-se with less compunctions, and per- haps ended my days in prison. So much for the penknife. Secondly, in regard to gambling, blacklegging, and its cure. I think I was about fourteen years old, when I was sent out for the first time on busi- ness, with a span of horses and sleigh to Taberg Fur- nace, in Oneida County, about thirty-six miles distant, to procure some hardware, and do some other busi- ness. I was supplied with quite a sufficiency of money to bear my own expenses, as well as those of the team; and I was sure if I performed the business well, and got safe home, I should not be iusked any questions about the surplus money that might be left after paying the ex|)enses of the trip. Here I commenced my first lesson of rigid economy, which, had I carried out through life with my usual industry, I should probably, at this time, have a house to cover me from the pelting storm, without hiring it ; and my flour-barrel and meat-cask would not sound so empty as they now do. But I thank God that these have been like the meal-tub and cruse of the widow, that entertained the prophet Elijah : they have kept about so full. But to re- turn to my story. When I got readv to start out on my journey, I managed to get hay and oats enough to feed my horses, and pork and beans 22 T1(1AI,S AXU TRILMI'HS TN THK enough to feed myself. I made the trip all in good order, and returned back as far as the village of AVhitesboro', the last place I was to feed at till I should get home ; and in looking over my finances, I could say, like Gen. Jackson in one of his mes- sages, I was at peace with all the world and out of debt, with two dollars and a half in my pocket. Although I have had not less than half a million of dollars pa.ss through my hands since that time, yet 1 think I never before or afterwards felt so rich or important in my own estimation, as I did that morning. The speculations that ran through my head were numerous, and, as I supposed, important. I thought to make some purchases, as I should pass through Utica. But I knew I had money enough to buy out all the boys for a mile round me when I reached home, and the way I intended to shake it at them \\ as a caution. O, what a tyrant money makes of a man ! But after feeding my horses under the shed for the last baiting, I took my bucket of pork and beans in one hand, and my whip in the other, snap- ping it at every dog or fowl that came in my way. I entered the bar-room of the tavern in full state, asking no favours of anybody ; and, as I think, before I opened my box of luncheon, I very grace- fully put my hand into my pocket, and drew forth my pocket-book, and took out my money with some little flourish, and asked the landlord if it was cur- rent, taking care that all the gentleman -loafers in the l.IFK OK (;. \V. HKNUV. bar-room shouUl see it. It being pronounced good, I returned it to my pocket, bought a glass of cidci-, and went to eating my luncheon. O, how little T imagined that riches had ^^^ugs, and that the wings of all my earthly tr»>asnres were already beginning to expand for flight I But the whole machinery for my bankruptcy was then in the bar-room. Before I had got my cider half drank, there arose a great lazy, bloated, puffing porpoise, who was on the jail limits, and he'drew forth a pack of cards, and went to the knowing bar-tender while he stood within the bar, shuffled his cards, and laid them down on the counter. At this time I was very ignorant of that l)eautiful science called the Black Art, pertbrmed with cards. I merely knew one card from another. The cards being " cut," the loafer offered to l)et one shilling, that after the bar-tender had "shuffled " the pack to suit himself, and also cut the pack, he (the loafer) would take the part cut off, and turn his back and examine them, and then that some speci- fied card of the remaining part of the deck would be first turned face up. I left my breakfast to gaze on the new and interesting traiisaction. To ray astonish- ment, the gamester would turn up the very card he named, and take off the bar-tender's shilling ; but the bar-tender continued to bpt till the third or fourth time, and while the gambler had the part cut of^", he went as usual to the back part of the room, with his back turned towards the remaining cards. The bar- tender thon shuffled the cards as }>y magic, and ■-'4 riilAI.S AND IKtl MI'llS 1\ THK ]ilaeed them back in their position again. " Now," says he to the loafer, "I'll bet you two dollars." " Done," says the loafer. " Now," says the bar- teiuler, " we have him ;" winking to me to put down my money. It was no quicker winked than done ; my two dollars and a half were all down, and the bet confirmed. O what golden visions flitted across my imagination ! Instead of two dollars and a half, I should take home with me five dollars in triumph ! " Now," inquired the loafer, " is all ready ? is the money all down ?" To which we emphatically re- plied, " Yes." He then shuffled his cards again witli more than ordinary accuracy, while every minute seemed an liour to my fingers, itching to claw the five dollars ! He then cried out, " I'll bet that the Jack of Clubs w ill be trump," and immediately returned to the deck ; and as he turned over the uppermost card, there was presented that frightful and never-to-be- forgotten Jack of Clubs I while, at the same time, the magician loafer hauled off all my money, with all my golden dreams and hopes of present and fu- ture happiness and aristocratic power, and vanished from my sight. There are very few men who have met with more reverses of fortune than I have ; but I think, put them all together, they would not be so heart-rend- ing and sickening as this transaction was to me. When I learned that the bar-tender and loafer were co-partners in this swindling operation, God knows how cordially I have hated cards and every species I.IKK OF li. \V. IlKMtV. oC black-legging ever since, with ii perfect hatrftl. The admonition of the old Irish woman to lier son, when on the gallows, would have applied to my case at this lime. She says to her boy while dangling at the rope's end : "Dear Jemmy, you will remember when you had your father's watch in your pocket, and money to pay for your edification, how many a time your old mither tould you to gang into dacent company, but you would not mind her. You see now where you are, you do, and I hope it may be a warning to ye." This event was ever " a warning" to me, and a cheap cure for such kind of specula- tions, for I presume, exposed as much as I have been through life to such kind of company, I have never gambled to the amoimt of ten dollars in my life. 1 could never forget that fatal " Jack of Clubs." Alas ! what ruin and misery have resulted from the wcked practice of gambling. As the wily spider spreads out its silken web, and ensnares the silly fly, so the cunning gambler enfolds within his artful net the innocent and unwary, and without remorse devours the victim of his craft. The next vice, in the before-mentioned category, to which I became early addicted, and of which I shall also relate the cure, is tobacco-chewing. This vicious habit, so prevalent, if not absolutely an im- morality, is at least so indecent, and in most cases injurious to health, that it ought to be scouted from civilized society. iiiiAi.si AMI mil Mi'lis IN Tiii; I think it was in tlie seventeenth summer of my age, that I was labouring on a farm for a Mr. Camp- bell, of Winfield, in this county. He had a ste)>- son living with him by the name of William Stew- art. We had occasionally strolled into some of the \ illage taverns, where we discovered many young men so far in advance of us in the accomplishments of the day, that we were, in our own esteem, most wondrous green country fellows. The young village gents could chew tobacco, puff the cigar, drink rum, and swear according to the most approved terms of blackguards. We discovered that something must be done to make us appear more like gentlemen, to give us a smack of refinement. We therefore bought a threepenny paper of tobacco, resolved to try the graces of chewing, and began by degrees to educate the palate to the use of the nauseous drug. As the dose was, by degrees, increased, the palate began to relish the taste, until about the fourth day, when, as I was laying a stone fence in a warm summer day, and William was ploughing on the hill above me, having the tobacco, I left my work and went up to him, and said I : " Bill, I'll bet I can take a larger chew of tobacco than you can." He "doubted it;" so I ran my fingers into the paper, and took out a lianl quid about as large as a hickory nut ; William took out what he contended was equal or more. I went my way imitating, as far as possible, the graces of an old tobaeco-chewer, flattering myself that I liad now acquired the accomplishments of the art. LIFE OF (i. W. IIENRV. But my feelings soon underwent a grievous ciiange. A death-like sickness soon came over me, followed by a cold damp sweat and dizziness. Never was I in such misery. I paced the meadow for hours. I could neither die nor live, till I found some relief. But I was effectually cured of my hankering to adopt that vile practice, and of ray admiration for its votaries, fl'om that time hitherto. So these three cents were well laid out. How thankful I am that now, in my blindness, I am not a slave to a habit so opposed to cleanliness, so offensive in the family circle and in society, so pernicious to health, such a tax upon a poor man's purse, to the use of a filthy nauseous drug so unbefitting any purpose under the heavens, save the purpose of killing on ]x>or calves in the spring of the year I Surely : " Tobacco is an Indian weed, And from the devil doth proceed ; It picks j-our pockets, burns your clothes, And makes a chimney of your nose."' Youth is the most dangerous period of life, for the formation of such pernicious habits. The habits then formed, perhaps from an idle curiosit)', maybe from a disposition to ape the example of others, it matters not from what cause, are very likely to become confirmed, and accompany an individual through life, and, if they be evil, to subject him to all the inconx eniences and misery which they are fitted to bestow. And at this period of life there is generally found an anxious desire at once to be thought a man, 28 TRIALS AND TRU MPIIS IX TIIF. and an almost uncontrollable disposition to do ahout as one has a mind to. And the seeds of ultimate ruin and wretchedness are generally sown with the first vicious habits, and they readily spring up, and unless speedily extirpated, take deep root in the fer- tile soil of the youthful heart. Their fruit is only I'uin. Think of this, my 3'oung readers and old. " Touch not, taste not, handle not the unclean thing." Resolve to be free from the slavery of habit, — a slavery more absolute, when you are once fully under its dominion, than any other. And remem- ber, that in the simple matter of dollars and cents, (which is but a mere fraction of the evil,) your threepenny paper of tobacco per day (by no means extravagant, in the opinion of an old tobacco-chewer) will be a tax upon you, in forty years, of nearly $500! which is worse than thrown into the fire. Think of these things, my friends, and be w\se. CHAPTER III. The phrenologist has said that I was a veiy great " lady's man." By this, I suppose, is meant a man fond of the society of the ladies, ready to bestow his gallant attentions upon the fair, and, it may be, occasionally touched with a tender inspiration of Cupid. If this is the proper meaning of the ex- pounder of bumps, I have not a word to say in con- UFJi Of U. W. UKNKV. 29 tradiction of his position, but shall leave the gentle reader to judge whether he has done me justice or not, after giving a few adventures bearing upon this point. The society of w^orthy young ladies had always a multitude of charms for me ; and as for the tender passion, I agree with Hudibras, that — " Love is a fire that burns and sparkles In man, as naturally as in charcoals." At least it always seemed so to me. My ear was always awake to the "discourse of sweet music," and in the matter of dancing, from early boyhood, my feet would almost involuntarily join in the chorus of the violin, and respond Avith nimble antics to its bewitching tones. The fiddle, the bewitching fiddle ! No sable son of Africa was ever more in- spired by " the harmony of sweet sounds," flowing from fiddle-strings, or ever wore out more shoe- leather in responding to its notes than I. Music, dancing, and the ladies, were three ideas that were closely associated in making up my notions of en- joyment. With spirits buoyant as air, and keyed on a high note, full of hope and animation, I was never troubled with what is sometimes called " the blue devils." My opportunities for gratifying my notions of enjoyment have corresponded to my dis- position ; and here I might oi>en a rare scene of ad- ventures and amusements, such as couiiships, flirta- tions, meetings, partings, frolickings, &c., which I was at the time deeply interested in, no doubt, but 30 TKIALS AND THUMl'Hh IN TIIK which it is hardly worth while to narrate. Such \ain delusions must give place to more substantial and profitable things. I will, however, mention some few of these adventures of early life, or the l)icture would be quite imperfect. I was many times honoured with being associated on lists of managers of assembhes and convivial parties, with some of the most noble-spirited youths of the land, and many of them my dear and inti- mate associates. I regret that I have not preserved each card. What an army of youthful comrades, as well as those of riper years, would they recall to memory ; and then to inquire where they now are, what has been their fortune and ultimate fate ? I have no doubt that one-half of them would be found among the pale nations of the dead ; many having made shipwreck of fortune; and 0! how many, alas ! may have filled the drunkard's grave ! Once endowed with talents, literary acquirements, quali- fied to fill posts of honour and responsibility in so- ciety, the children of jirosjierity and hope, but, ah ! they have fallen ! How sad the reflection 1 But I will give the youthful reader an account of my first attempt at courtship, and of the first ball I ever attended, hoping lie will excuse me from treat- ing further of my own follies on these two points. 1 treat of these two incidents together for the reason that they were so nearly associated throughout the whole farcical transaction. At the time I was about seventeen yeare old, it was fashionable and highly I.II K OF li. \V. llh.SKV. ol cointnendablo tor young men of that age, and from thence upwards, to "go a sparking," as the term then was ; but I believe that in this more enlight- ened and refined day it is called " going a court- ing ;" but I prefer the old-fashioned expression, from the associations wliich it recalls. And now, as I am to jjresent you but one case only, I will be more particular in telling you how they used to do up such things about thirty years ago, and leave it with the more modem beaux and belles to compare it with the present mode. There were two distinct classes or societies in those days, who used to meet in separate assemblies ; the younger of which was denominated the " trun- dle-bed company." After a young lady or gentle- man had graduated in the " trundle-bed company," and attained a suitable age and degree of accom- plishment, he or she was duly initiated into the higher or older rank ; which being done, they were supposed to be qualified to propose and entertain the gravest propositions ; and in the case of a young lady, she was now considered an eligible candidate, and was at all times subject to the following deeply interesting interrogation from the enterprising young beau : — " Miss Dulcinea, shall I be favoured with the pleasure of your company next Sunday night V This question was usually put with a sufficient de- gree of palpitation of the heart to give the whole aflair a smack of sentiment ; and in those days the gentle creature properly appreciated the agitation of 32 TKIALS AND TRICMI'HS IN THE the young swain, and responded to his interroga- tory in a manner fitted to quiet his fluttering heart. But from the great number of lone bachelors we have among us at the jiresent day, I am inclined to think that the times must have somewhat changed in this particular. But, as I was going to say, a young lady who had emerged from the " trundle- bedders," and who had not a light in her parlour, sitting-room, or kitchen, as the case might be, till almost day, as often as one Sunday night out of three or four, was considered rather below par, and her case in the important matter of matrimony was thought to be rather dubious. But to my first adventure in this business — a hazardous enterprise j^ou may be sure. And I will be bound that of all the gra\ e undertakings of my life, I never entered upon one with a more doubting and faint heart ; tor I would have my kind reader know, that for a young gentleman to "get the mitten " in those times was more humiliating than it would be for a young lieutenant to sufter a defeat in his first engagement: in fact I am inclined to think that war and courtship are not altogether dis- similar in this particular. In both a man needs a valiant lieart and an ingenious tact. I was to try my fortune for the first time, and had but just taken leave of my trundle-bed companions, and a failure just then would make me feel I O, you may goiess how ! It was in the autumn of 18 17, 1 was cutting corn- LIFE OF G. W. IIENRV. 33 stalks witli Scliuyler Smith, a very respectable j'Oiing man, and an intiinate of mine. There were two youno^ ladies of our acquaintance, who, like ourselves, hnd but just emerged from the "trun- dle-bed company," one by the name of Alice , and the other Charlotte . Now, the girls were of the first respectability, but Charlotte was considered rather the most engaging of the two, and, in fact, about the finest girl in the town. Schuyler and I, while cutting stalks, resolved to be men, " break the ice," and put the before-mentioned ques- tion to these two young ladies, right in their face and eyes, the next Sunday night. But we could not agree who should go to see Charlotte, the favourite, each coveting the glory that would be shed around him if he should be successful. We each trembled at the thought of " the mitten." Finding that we were not likely to agree otlierwise, we hit upon the expedient of drawing cuts. Accordingly two slips from a corn-stalk were prepared of unequal length, and tlie one that should draw the longest should go to see Charlotte ; and, as fortune would have it, the lot fell on me. What a moment of hojie and fear, of anxiety and doubt! But hope predominated. It was as my sheet-anchor in the corn-field, and by it I nerved up every fibre, and resolved firmly to proceed Avith the trial the next Sunday night. The auspicious night approached, and ere the sun had shed its last lingering rays upon the western hills, while yet its silver tints cast a glow of mellow beauty •■i y4 TKIALS AND TltlUMl'HS IN THK upon the clouds overhanging the horizon, inspiring the young beholder Avith a tender sentiment and subduing the tumult of his passions, Schuyler and myself wei'O mounted on our nags, their heads turned towards our promised land. The young ladies lived on the same road, and about a quarter of a mile apart. We soon arrived at the dwelling of the fair Alice. Schuyler dismounted, and I proceeded on my way silently, with a palpitating heart, half hop- ing, half doubting, but fully resolved, and descended into a deep and somewhat romantic valley, where dwelt the lovely Charlotte, the object of my enter- prise, who had it in her power, by pronoimcing one short monosyllable of two letters, to chill the very blood in my veins, blight my budding hopes, and stifle the rising gallantry within me 1 As I proceeded down the steep descent on the opposite side of the gulf, where stood a very high hill covered with trees and shrubbery, I saw, or im- agined I saw, a brilliant something that to me seemed a trailing comet, pass along the brow of that hill. This I thought ominous, and my sentimental pendulum greatly increased its vibrations. But I remembered the old maxim, " A faint heart never won a fair lady," and girded up my courage. I soon found myself seated in the family circle of Deacon . The greatest lion that now lay in my way, (as I often found afterwards under simi- lar circumstances,) was the old guardian mother. But I was not there long before, as a sailor would LIFE or U. \Y. HENUy. 35 say, I " hauled alongside " of the beloved Charlotte, and, with all the solemn gravity of an owl, delivered the momentous message, which I had been brood- ing over and arranging for the week past. In almost breathless silence I awaited her reply. She wjis an intelligent, and, withal, a most kind-hearted girl, of about fifteen. She said she woidd ask her elder sister. Accordingly there was a family-caucus held in the other room to consult over my fate. Reader, imagine yourself standing on the gallows, with the fatal noose already about j^our neck, amidst a gazing multitude, faintly expecting and ardently hoping for the governor's timely reprieve, before you should be left to dance in the air ; imagine what would be your feelings, kind reader, in such a case, and you will understand something how I felt just then. But as I watched the movements of the caucus closely I discovered that mattere began to look favourable. One of the boys was ordered to make a fire in the front-room. Soon Charlotte ap- peared, and invited me to draw my loose coat. How willingly I complied with the invitation it will not be difficult for a young beau to imagine. She bore it away with my hat and whip to the aforesaid front-room, now about to be warmed up for the liappiest man in the world ; and the heart that ten minutes before Avas in a huge commotion, like " a tempest in a tea-pot," was now calm as a May morning, and full of joy. Now the mere matter of having a few houi-s of 36 TRIALS AND TRIVMl'HS IN THE " small talk," although exceedingly agreeable, was but a tiifle compared with the glory that awaited the successful issue of this bold undertaking. Glory is to an ambitious man what meat is to a hungry one. There was probably not another young ver- dant in town who would dare make so bold a move in his first enterprise in the great business of spark- ing. The object Avas high, and nothing but a dar- ing spirit would run the risk. However, I soon found myself a near neighbour to Miss Charlotte, where I continued for the rest of the evening, des- canting upon the numberless topics which are usually so fully canvassed on such occasions. The rest of the family were quietly snoozing on their pillows, and revelling in the land of dreams. Never was a man better pleased with his success, and I fain had made myself believe that the young lady was scarcely less flattered with the attention of so spruce a beau. The time was passing away in the most cozy manner, and scarcely heeded in our little conference, when lo ! our old friend chanticleer announced the approach of morn and the hour to depart ! This was the approved signal at that day for breaking up such conferences, or, as it is said in legislative bodies, for " the committee to rise and report progi'ess." Therefore, in compliance with the rule, (for you must know that a young adventurer of my age would be very careful not to violate a rule of etiquette so generally received among his seniors,) I resumed my coat, hat, and whip, with the express LIFE OF (!. W. IIENRV. 37 understanding that I was to come again in threo weeks. To prevent waking the old folks I went on tip-toe to the door, where we exchanged, as softly and sweetly as possible, a gentle "good-night." Now it had puzzled me not a little during the even- ing how this aftair should get publicity, while I should attempt to deny it as a matter of delicacy. But I was relieved from this quandary as soon as I got to where my horse had been hitched. He had slipped his halter and escaped for liome, and thrown oft" his saddle on the way. So I had to follow on after him on foot. It was now about the break of day, and I arrived home about sunrise, where I found the horse, which had been picked up by a neighbour. And by the time I found the saddle, or about breakfast time, the whole matter had received an extensive circulation, so that every one I met had something to say on the subject, and my fame was established. Now, as an excuse for taking Sabbath evenings for such business, we plead the law of cus- tom, which, I presume, was established by the first settlers of this country from the New-England States, a part of whose religious creed it was to keep hal- lowed Saturday, instead of Sunday night — the re- verse of which now prevails ; though I am sorry to say that neither of them is sufficiently hallowed at this day. Here must end the history of my courtehip, unless I may liereafter give a sketch of that which resulted in my marriage with her who has since ever been my comforter in affliction, and is now the 38 TRIALS AXI) TRIIMI'IIS IN THE light to my blind eyes. I might recount a great number and variety of similar enterprises that tran- spired for the twenty years that intervened between these two events. It shall suffice on this point to say, that I have no recollection of ever being denied the company of a respectable young lady ; nor did I ever desire or propose to marry any one but her ■whom I am now blessed with. And I honestly be- lieve that my attachment for the society of ladies has been a very great preventive to my falling into vice, and perhaps into a drunkard's grave, on which last idea I shall touch more at large when I come to treat on the subject of intemperance. Next, according to promise, I must tell you some- thing of the first ball I attended. I think this was in the winter previous to the aftair I liave just related. There was a ball got up at Grain's tavern in Litclifield. I resolved to go. I accordingly invited Miss Julia , as my partner. The evening arrived for the ball. I had my step-father's horse and a cutter he had just got made, at that day the top of the mode. At the ap- pointed hour there was gathered a company of about thirty couple, with bounding hearts and rosy cheeks. Each fair young lady was neatly clad in a woollen dress of her own spinning, and nicely dressed and pressed by the clothier. Nature displayed its handiwork of symmetry in their beautiful persons, which had never been subjected to the contortions of modern fashions. When bonnets, shawls, coats, LIFE OK a. W. IIENRV. :U) and hats were laid aside, each laddie took his lassie and inarched in regular procession in rear of the fiddler into the old ball-room. Then came on a long round of " country dances," wherein all danced till da3'light, as though they were afraid they should not get the worth of their money. But daylight unwelcomely broke up the amusement, and each fellow, and I with the rest, took home his girl. I got home about sunrise, laid off my best clothes, and went to turning fanning-mill in cleaning up wheat all that day for my step-father. I recollect that while turning the fanning-mill there, I would get almost asleep. And while in this state of de- lirium or somnambulism, I could hear, or imagined I heard, every tune of the fiddle distinctly played by the iron cog-s, while I was going up and down in the middle and casting off right and left. But sleep and rest restored my bewildered mind. I would here remark, that, in my opinion, social in- tercourse among young people has been on a de- cline from that day to tliis. Humble merit was then in high estimation ; and the young lady that hung up the largest bunch of yarn of her own spinning, was numbered among the first belles of the day, and received merited attention from the beaux. There was very little of envying or back- biting, or pride as to who should heir the most property after the father was dead. I have wit- nessed in these later days a dirty aristocracy grow- ing up among the American people, young as well 40 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE as old — an aristocracy that despises labour and real merit, and reveres only wealth. This is much more tlie case at the South than at the Noith, and I am sorry to say that it is often to be found amongst professors of religion. Reader, while I have been narrating these frolics of my youth, I have felt a great degi-ee of solemnity. The young ladies and young gentlemen that whirled with me in the giddy dance, where are they now while I am recounting these follies ? Many of them are numbered with the dead, and amongst the num- ber that young lady I. waited on that night. Such follies ai'e a waste of precious time, if nothing worse. I cannot say, as some have said, that there was no pleasure in these amusements. But it was but nio- mentar}'. Where there was an ounce of pleasure there soon followed a pound of pain, as is generally the case when we yield to the dominion of feeling instead of reason. Moses was wise when he chose "rather to suffer affliction with the people of God, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season." CHAPTER IV. Before entering upon an account of my business transactions, that none of the striking features may be wanting in the picture, I will give somewhat of my military careei', for it will be observed that I LIFE OF li. W. HENKY. 41 have " seen some sernco " on the " field of glory," where men display their patriotism in defending their country against an imaginary foe, and where they can show forth their valour and military skill in defeating an enemy of straw. Here I secured golden trophies of renown, and received an official title that would give me rank with the master of an old scow-boat on the Erie Canal. But glory is glory, and the man that has a smack of war in his compo- sition will wax valiant at a militia company train- ing, though the clangour of death sound not in his ear; and perhaps the absence of danger adds not a little to the heroism of the titled sons of Mai-s in " these piping times of peace." Not to derogate at all from the " glory " (such as it is) attendant uj^wn the profession of arms, I may be allowed to remark, that, in my humble opinion, the militia system of our country, as at present constituted and displayed on days of public muster and parade, is a very great nuisance, and scarcely less inglorious to our country than to the oflicers distinguished by its titles, and to the " high-privates" subject to its (want of) dis- cipline. It ought to be abolished, or thoroughly re- vised. It has doubtless much degenerated since the days of my martial honours. But I must not de- tain my kind reader with further reflections on this subject. Let us hope that the day will soon come when the sword shall bo beaten into pruning hooks. About the year 1822, Daniel Dygert, G. V. 42 IIUALS AND TIUL MIMIS IN THE Orton, of Winfield, Herkimer County, and my- self, with permission of the coraniandcr-in-chief, raised a volunteer company of about one liundred men, for the 27th regiment of infantry. They were a band of noble young men — well-made, spirited, and as ambitious fellows as ever shouldered a musket iu time of peace. I had ever felt from my boyhood a martial spirit — I felt the soldier within me, and panted for renown : " I 'd heard of battles, and loiig'd to follow To the field some warlike lord." And even now, after having laid all carnal weap- ons aside, the sound of the spirit-stining drum and animating fife, the roar of the booming cannon, and the clangour of arms, at once rouses those sleeping energies and inspires a thirst for war. But notwith- standing what the phrenologist has said of my so very great courage, had I been called upon to face a real foe where blood Avas likely to be spilt, it is quite possible I " Had run, forgetful of a warrior's fame, While clouds of friendly dust conceal'd my shame." Yet, during the three years I bore the command of tliat company — the largest and best equipped I think of any I have ever seen in the country — I drank in more vainglory than in all the rest of my life. Among.st all the faults and foibles of my life I do not know that I was ever charged with being haughty or scornful by the poorest or humblest person living. LIFE OF (;. W. IIEN'RV. 43 Nevertheless, wlien that company was brought into a line b}- the subordinate ofEcei-s, with the signal to the captain that all was ready, the whole body as a single man presenting their glittering arms, their t^iU white plumes waving in the air, and the music brought to the centre, Louis Philippe might have envied me my glory as I advanced to my post amidst three cheering salutes from the pealing drums and fifes, while the ensign measured the time by three graceful waves of the star-spangled banner of my country, and, as I replaced with a military air my tinseled and richlj^-plumed chapeau on my youthful head, while my right hand clasped and drew fi-om its silver-plated scabbard the sword that hung by my side, then did my heart swell with a most military pride. I bellowed out the Avord of command loud enough to be heard throughout the ranks of Bonaparte's army : " Attention, the whole ! Shoulder arms !" &c., and thus the vastly scientific evolutions of the field were performed with the ut- most "pomj) and circumstance of war." Reader, I recount these particulars of my history that you may witness how great a fool empty titles will make of a man. If you could but know how many hard day's labour, and how much money it cost me to support the cause, and "treat" my men, you would certainly think that I must have been a very great military fool. And all I received for my trouble and fatigue was to be dubbed Captain Henry, as far as I was known : a title that has ac- 44 TKIALS AND TRUMPHS IN THE companied me ever since, like the mark set upon Cain. I fain would rid myself of this inglorious distinction, but I am not allowed to descend from this " bad eminence." It was customary in those times to "wake up the officers " on the morning of parade days. Accord- ingly, long before day till the time for mustering, there was an almost continual roaring of musketry under the officers' windows. The first gun was a signal for the captain to throw open his doors, well stocked with rum, brandy, gin, sugar, &c. These bad customs, I am hajjpy to say, are now nearly done away with. The first time I ever got corned was on one of these dangerous occasions, which cost me a severe admonition and nearly spoiled a valuable suit of clothes for me. I got to knocking off hats with one of my comrades, which ended in throwing each other's hats into a dirty mill-pond — into which I plunged for mine, (having just enough in my head to make me feel a little amphibious just then,) re- gardless of clothes or consequences. Here was a beautiful spectacle, worthy of the decorum and glory of a modern militia parade ! AVhat a proud ex- hibition for full-grown men ! My young friends, despise such foolery ; respect yourselves, and resolve to be men. And now, with my patient reader's permission, I will enter upon some of my business transactions, with their beginning and ending — transactions vari- ous, many of them important, most of them dis- LIFE OF G. W, HENRY. 45 astrous. And this I do, not that it is a pleasure to me to review the many sad mistakes of my life, but that you may learn how many sore disappointments an ambitious and enterprising man subjects himself to, in the short period of twenty years, and that you may learn wisdom from my experience. I would gladly draw a veil over many transactions of my life, could I but exclude them from memory; but they are indelibly recorded there, and the follies of the past may well serve as way-marks for the future. It will not be expected that I shall speak of eveiy trifling business, but of only such as were of some importance and characteristic of the man. And now here goes for my first business engage- ment, which was with Eliphalet Remington, Jr., of Litchfield, in the spring of 1819, to bum twelve thousand bushels of coal, in what was called Slocum's Gulf. It was a wild, desolate region, cheered at the solemn hour of night only by the hooting of owls and screamings of wild animals. Here I made my fii-st adventure, full of hope and promise of success, in connexion with three other young men, Hibbard Pride, Ansel Owen, and Charles Randall. Not one of us knew much, if anything, about the business. Nevertheless, we swung our axes, entered the forest, and erected a collier's cabin. But before we had felled many trees, Charles and I seceded from the other two, formed a gang by our- selves, and built us a sepai-ate cabin. We worked 4(i TUIALS AKD THIUMPHb IN THE like slaves almost night and day ; lived like hermits, black as negi'oes, and dirty as pigs. We rolled up our pits, covered, and burned them down; but being unacquainted with the business, I pi-esume we burned up a large portion of the coal. Instead of our pit yielding six thousand bushels of coal as we had calculated it would, we received but half that quantity. All the rest soon got tired of the job and left it but myself ; I hung out alone until it was finished. But to make a long story short, I will tell you how this job ended — not in a blaze of glory, as General Jackson ended the last American war, but in a blaze of coal-brands. I had gathered together coal brands enough to make five hundred bushels of coal, and had set them up preparatory to cover- ing them for burning. I finished this labour late at night, and crawled solitary and alone into my rude cabin, and was soon deliciously snoring upon iny straw-couch in sweet concert with the hooting owl and other like vocalists of the night. About midnight I awoke, and found my coal brands nicely blazing to the tops of the trees, and casting forth a glare of light which was seen by the inhabitants of the surrounding country. I had the unenviable pi'ivilege of walking in the brilliant light of my own labour, black as a bear and twice as ragged, my old lopped hat on my head which I had sometimes worn for a night-cap. What a beauty I must have been to look upon! — my face looking as dejected, no doubt, as my old hat. I just about got my labour LIFK UF G. W. IIENUV. 47 for my pains. What an encouraging beginning in my business life ! So much for my first contract. You recollect the phrenologist said that I thought I could do almost anything that anybody could, and would never take advice. Whether these are profitable traits in the character of a business-man may be questional. But one thing I have learned to be true, that if a man believes he can do a thing, and takes hold and tries with all his might, he is very apt to accomplish it. But when a man doubts his ability he seldom brings much to pass. "Faith is mighty to the jjulling down of strongholds" in temporal, as well as in spiritual things. In regard to myself, I can with truth say, that of business engage- ments to the amount of some two hundred thousand dollars worth of work or more, which I have done in the course of my life, I have no recollection of undertaking a single job of any moment but what I finished ; though in some instances it might liave been better to abandon them. I was a stranger to backing out; and having formed this character as a contractor I could get almost any quantity of work I asked for. Here was my great mistake — I asked for too much at a time. But to return to what may be regarded as the sequel to my first job. The following winter after my coaling operation, I was employed by the Frank- fort Furnace Company, to attend top, as it was called, to that furnace. My business was to throw in alternately, tlie coal and ore near the top of the 48 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE stack, wherein the iron was smelted. Raking over the coal and handling the ore, gave me a good rich Spanish-brown colour. The labour, half the day and half the night, Avas slavish. My friend Schuyler attended at the same time as fireman at the foot of the stack. We were paid off in the spring with furnace-ware — a sort of coon-skin cun-ency. This kind of life I concluded was not the sort for ine or any other social being — for the peremptory demands of a perpetual burning furnace, imprisoned me Avithin its walls, while I was permitted only to dream of former scenes of enjoyment as I might lay snoozing in the embrace of Moi-pheus, within the beautiful folds of a coal-basket. It was not good for Adam to be alone in Eden : how much more doleful it was for me in that forlorn condition, I will leave it for my readers to judge. I often felt like exclaiming, in the language of the lone inhabitant of the desolate island : — " Society, friendship and love, Divinely bestow'd upon man, 0 ! had I the wings of a dove, How soon I would taste you again !" Accordingly I cast about me for a more congenial employment. The idea of working by the month, under the control of another, was quite unadapted to my constitution. If I was not permitted to say to one, " Come, and he cometh, and to another, Go, and he goeth," I was not satisfied. I never learned a trade in my life, excepting the one I have learaed LIFE OF (;. W. UENUV. 49 since I have become blind; and of this I shall speak in its proper place. The reader will recollect what our worthy phrenologist has said of my self-confidence, my mechanical genius, my capacity to invent and contrive the ways and means just suited to a new or difficult purpose, &c., and what a wonderful man I might be for engineering, and all that. We shall see how theory and fact correspond. In my search for a job, I fell in with a farmer who wanted some stone-fence made ; and to his in- quiry whether I could lay stone-wall, I answered him that I could, at the same time believing what I said. The bargain was at once concluded ; and, at the appointed time, I came on clad in my leather apron, and fully equipped to undertake my job, al- though I had never laid a rod of wall in my life. I apologized occasionally, after having stretched my line and begun to lay the foundation, for my awkwardness, which I feared might be discovered by the farmer. I told him I did not expect I should lay tlie first rod so very well, in consequence of my hands having been out of that kind of employment so long. He very charitably fell in with the sug- gestion. He was a kind-hearted, good-natured old man, and I knew a little better than he did, that ho had a very pretty daughter of about the age of gentle seventeen, that might possibly throw a young man of my sensibility into " a tender taking." But to say nothing more about that now, the first rod + 50 TRIALS AND IRIUMPHS IN THE of wall was soon up, and the old man pronounced it tolerably fair; and before the sun went down, 1 was an accomplished wall-layer. I finished the job with neatness and dispatch ; and my fame soon wont abroad as a tip-top wall-layer. Thus my char- acter was I'eadily established, and I spent most of that season in laying stone-walls. Now, I hold that wo can rightly estimate the blessings of society and other enjoyments, temporal as well as siiiritual, only as we are deprived of them ; and that pleasure comes by contrast : thus it was that I could not but compare the life I was then enjoyhifi, with that which I had been enduring as a collier, and as a furnace man; and how sensibly Mas I daily impressed with my happier condition, when the good old lady sounded her conch-shell for dinner, which was generally composed in those days of a large Indian pudding boiled in a bag made for the purjwse, or in a stocking-leg, correspondmg in size to the size of the family that was to be the happy partakers of the wholesome repast. It is quite possible that the squeamish noses of these more eft'eminatc times would be turned up at so homely an idea. But you must know, dear reader, that those Avere the days of frugal simplicity and economy. After a stocking had warmed a foot during a cold winter, and now at length had allowed the heel and toes to peep out at the windows, what business is it to you or me, my friend, if the good matron should think proper to cut oif the foot, and J.IFK OF G. W. IIENUV. 51 tie a hank of thrums around the bottom, after having washed it clean, and then to make a deHcions pudding in it ? What is it to us, whetlier the okl man, tlie old woman, or the pretty daughter had worn that stocking, provided the pudding be good and enough of it? Prejudice often spoils some people's dinners ; and some people are more squeamish about an idea, a whim, a mere phantasm of a too sensi- tive, but (often) senseless brain, than about a real, substantial, tangible choker, whereat a proper sensi- bility might well revolt. Are we not told in the good book to eat whatsoever is set before us ? When the aforesaid pudding was snugly tied at both ends, it was soused into a large dinner-pot, and then boiled with pork, potatoes, and other vegetables, until all was thoroughly cooked ; and when the hungry la- bourers were summoned from tlie field by the wel- come blast of the loud-sounding conch, they were seated down to the above-mentioned luxuries, neatly arranged on two large bright pewter platters, which had passed down through many generations. The young children were furnished with wooden trench- ers, and occupied their proper places. Here was a lovely scene — here was liealth and good appetite — here were robust men, and buxom women — and here we realized the words of the wise man, that " food as well as rest is sweet to the labouring man.'M When the dinner was over, instead of being hurried away into the old coal-house, we retired into an ad- joining room, or. perhaps, to a well-swept bam floor, 52 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE there to enjoy our "noon spell" in listening to the nnisic of an old-fashioned instrument played by the fair hand of the fanner's daughter ; and many times the neighbouring girls would bring in their musical instruments and join in sweet concert, while mellif- luent voices, base and treble, filled the rich measures of the choir. How sad that such music is no longer heard — that that old instrument, the delight of our grand- mothers, is now almost obsolete, and its very name is numbered among the things that were ; an instru- ment that, while it delighted the ear of the farmer with its merry buzz, imparted a glow of freshness and healthful beauty to the cheek of his blithesome daughter. If any of my younger readers are at a loss to know what musical instrument I refer to, they can inquire of their grandmother, and she will give them a full account of it. But before closing this chapter, allow me to im- part some instruction, drawn from the small portion of my experience in business already introduced. In the first place, I would say to the young man who is poor and just starting out into the world, that this jobbing-about business is not, in the long run, the most profitable. You may get larger wages while at work ; but, then, there are your rainy days to be deducted, and your loss of time from one job to another; and then your expenses in travelling about from pillar to post in search of j)rofitable jobs, will just about use up all you make, to say nothing of the irregular and unsteady habits they thus LIFK OF U. W. HENRY. 53 establish. It is the continued dropping that wears away the stone, and not the torrent or the flood, whose force is soon spent. Accordingly, the man that works for small wages, but keeps steadily at work, and frugally husbands what he earns, will at all times have a competency ; and, in the end, have a stock of comforts laid up for a rainy day, and for a good old age : not so with him Avho experiments on fortune, and expects to get rich at a single throw of the die. Fortune is a fickle coquette, and after wheedling her votaries for a while, is very apt to jilt them at the last. Her lavish favours are sometimes but the precursors of her withering frowns — her smiles often conceal her victim's fate. But diligent industry, patient labour, humble merit, and honest integrity, need only look for Heaven's blessings, and the end is sure. The kind of business is not so ma- terial, if it be but reputable and innocent ; but it is all-important that it be a steady business. Pride too often controls young men in the selection of an employment, and fickleness the execution of it. The former bankrupts thousands — the latter makes va- grants of many ; thus the world is full of proud beg- gars and enterprising vagabonds. Idleness, indo- lence, pride, and prodigality, all belong to one family, and are generally the companions of irregular habits. How many young men spend their summers in la-* hour, and their winters in frolicking ; toil hard from spring to autumn, for the benefit of the tailor, the tavern-keeper, and the fiddler, from autumn to 54 TKIALS AND TlUUMl'HS IX THE spring; and in the spring they start out again, poor as cluirch mice, to mend their fortunes, and to pre- pare for the follies of the succeeding winter: and thus youth is spent in preparing poverty and sorrows for old age, unless a premature death in mercy ends the scene. These too often see their erroi-s when too late, if they ever allow themselves to see them at all : the iron sway of habit makes them willing slaves. Remember these things, my friends, and beware ; and forget not the words of the wise man, that *' the hand of the diligent shall bear rule ; but the slothful shall be under tribute." Let us here end this cliapter, and rest for a moment. CHAPTER V. The next spring, which, according to my best recollection, was in 1821, I hired myself to a Mr. Morgan, an old gentleman in Columbia, to work on a farm six months, and was to take for my pay a beautiful and spirited young mare, and ten dollars in money ; which engagement I faithfully performed. It was discovered by some of the neighbours that she could run fixst ; and soon there was a bet thrown out by an antagonist for a trial of speed. This bet I refused ; but it was taken by some of my neighbours, to whom I lent the mare. She gallantly won the race. But T had been cffoctnally cured of the LIFE OF G. W. HUXKV. 55 least disposition for blackiegging of wliatever species, and every kind of gambling, by jny first lesson at Whitesboro', the expense of which you have already learned ; and amidst the various and tempting opportunities with which I have been beset, (and I have been at the Long-Island Course when the Nortli and South were contending for every inch of ground,) I could seldom, if ever, be induced to bet. llappy was it for me that I had learned my salutary lesson so early. My fleet mare I soon exchanged for another, more steady, and better fitted for the purpose of peddling, into which business I entered the following autumn, and of which I now proceed to give you some account. I hired to a Mr. David Kelsey, of Winfield, for the term of one year, to peddle tin and other wares, for the sum of twelve dollars a month, besides my expenses. He had several other men employed in that business. Here was a wide and extensive field, where my spirit for projecting and enterprise could have full scope. Here I anticipated, as I afterwards realized, a world of novelties and rare sports. .Jovial and fearless of heart, I mounted my waggon, laden with the commodities of trade, to usher out into the wide world, (wherein it is said a pedler can never go amiss,) to enrich my employer, and " see the world." My dear readers, you will, I am certain, have pity on me, and not ask me to tell you of all the scrapes I got into and out of again, with more or less success, during this year in which I was a sort 56 TRIALS AND TKIUMPUS IN THE of cosmopolite ; for if you knew how foolish these things now look to me, and how it pains me to re- \iew the follies of a misspent life, I am sure you would let me olf with one or two adventures, as a sample of many. Ill the new business I had now embarked in, one important study of mine was, to adapt myself to the company I might chance to be in, and make myself as agreeable as possible, and to feel myself perfectly at home in a cabin or a castle, a pig-pen or a pal- ace— wherever fortune might direct, or inclination lead — always bearing in mind that my business was to trade. Very likely there may be numerous anec- dotes afloat, which rumour, with her trumpet-tongue, may have spread as applicable to me, but which may belong to another ; which, however, I shall not take the trouble to acknowledge or deny. For ex- ample, it has been said that I used to exchange new tin for old, and get the full price of the new to boot ; and that after I got out of sight, I would throw the old tin away. I suspect such stories will always bo told of pedlers, with more or less truth. You must know that pedlers have to become all things to all men, (and some women,) in order to trade, and they have to show the world, as the notable Sam Patch would say, that some things can be done as well as others. But let us open up one of the scenes in a pedler's life. He drives up to a liouse and alights — anticipates the wants of the inmates — gathers up his arms full LIFK OF G. W. HKNUr. 57 of various articles — enters the lioiise, and without many preliminaries, proposes to sell ; then runs through with a long catalogue of articles with all the flippancy of a pedler's elocution, embracing every article of his assortment — a yarn in most cases quite sufficient to bewilder the brain and confound the arithmetic of the good housewife, and which not unfrcquently triumphs over the long established rules of economy of the house. Nine times out of ten they will at once demur to the proposition, and protest that they have no money. This being, as a matter of politeness, conceded b}'^ the travelling mer- chant, his next move is to " plough with the heifer," as Sampson would have expressed it, to find out what ai ticle they needed and would buy, provided they had anything to pay with. This being ascertained, and being satisfied there is no money in the house, (at least that he can get,) lie then recites a cata- logue of things he would take for pay, such as tallow, butter, cheese, wax, brass, pewter, flax, rags, &c., &c. At this juncture of the case, it becomes necessary to bring into requisition that expedient so often re- sorted to by lawyers, but oftener by pedlers, to wit, impudence, the sine qua non in difficult cases. He runs his nose into the buttery, and maybe explores the house through from cellar to garret in quest of some of the above named articles; which being found, he presents to the good lady the article she wanted, at the same time expatiating upon its excel- lencies and modestly reminding the excellent 58 TKIALS AND TRIUMl'IIS IN THE matron of her promise to buy if she had anything to pay> with, and intimating that she cannot do otlierwise than choose between a purchase and a fib. Here she is fairly caught, and to get rid of the pest, is constrained to make the purchase. The gallant pedler then gathers up his commodities, stores them into his wagon, cracks his whip, chuckles over his success, and soon finds himself at another dwelling. Here he enters with his arms full of merchandise, and with his blandest address, recites his well-learned lesson with the gentlest inodulation and intonations of voice, observing all the stops and marks, the ex- clamatory and interrogatory points especially ; and very likely the father or mother of the household answers his proposal to trade with the very common reply that " we have nothing to buy with, unless you will take one of our girls for pay." "Agreed," says the pedlei-, at the same time reaching out the hand or half-bent arm to encircle the precious com- modity which the mother had offered in barter for the coffee-pot, skimmer, or other needful, with a make-believe to bear her oft' to the wagon to stow her in with the flax, rags, &c. Here would fbllo>v a scuftle, delightfully )-idiculous, and the agreeable pedler in ten minutes finds himself an old acquaint- ance in the midst of his friends, who now trade with him, a mere matter of fiiendship. Now, dear reader, let us pause, and moralize for a moment over this scene of folly and traflic, and see if there is a mighty difference between mothei-s and pediers. UFE OF G. W. HENKY. 59 It is truly said that all the world is a stage, and each individual has his or her part to act upon it. JIach has some particular object in view, in wliat ho acts. Two farmers go into market to tradf: one has butter, and the other eggs. He that has the butter for sale has all his attention occupied in getting rid of it to the best advantage ; and it is a matter of indifference to him whether his neighbour gets drunk, falls down and breaks his eggs, or whether he gets the money for them ; and equally indift'eront is the man with eggs of the success of liim with butter — each one looks out for himself. So it is with the mother and the pedler. Each has a commodity in market : the mother, a daughter ; the pedler, tin-Avare — each intent on a speedy sale and good price. From infancy to girlhood, and thence to womanhood, the lovely daughter has been the object of maternal tenderness, indulgence, and pride. Each opening charm has caught the mo- ther's eye ; each spark of sprightly intelligence has swelled her heart with joy; the full development of maiden beauty and loveliness has moved the mothers pride, and inspired her with hopes of a ready market and a good j)rice at the hymeneal stall. Now that the daughter is ready to " set out," as the phrase is at the Soutli, how carefully does the mother invest her with every winning grace of innocent art, and instruct her in all the gentle mysteries of conquest, at the same time that she uses all of a fond mother's assiduity in guarding 60 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE her tender one against the wiles and dangers that beset her, impressing on her young mind the im- portant truth, that female character once marred, like a broken looking-glass, can never be repaired : the object is a quick and profitable market. The pedler arranges and classes his articles with equal care, to attract attention and induce a purchase. His object, too, is money — as much of it as possible. If that is not to be had he proposes to barter for the next best article he can think of — he is bound to trade, at any rate, even though he have to take tow, rags or rubbish. Is it not something so with the mother 2 A suitor proffers his hand to the fair daughter: what is the first question asked by the interested family, but. How many dollars or how many acres has he ? If he happens to be rich, whether by fraud or fortune, whether by merit or demerit, (no question is often asked on this score,) is she not at once advised to fall in with the offer, and then do not the parents and neighbours all unite in the opinion that she is well disposed of, and that, too, without a single inquiry whether he is pious or even moral ? It is well known that in these cases an abundance of money hides a multitude of defects from the eyes of lovers, and fi-om the eyes of parents and friends, but not from the eyes of the All-seeing. But the mother, (in concert with the daughter,) like the pedler, if she cannot sell for money, will barter for the next best commoditj^ for she is bound to make a sale at some lay ; and, if LIFE OF G. W. IIESKV. Gl she cannot do better, she may at length be reduced to the alternative, humiliating thought it may be, of keeping on her hands a despondent old maid, or of exchanging her off for a bundle of rags. In this alternative she Avill do precisely as the pedler does — dispose of her commoditj', and take the rags. And now, my friend, are not these two traffickers much alike ? Which employ the most art in their negotia- tions, the speculators in tin ware, or the speculators in daughtei-s, I give no opinion. But I must hasten to close up this peddling year. Tin-ware was beginning to be a drug, and pedlere were along so often that it was becoming difficult to get people to look into my box ; (for it was generally the case that if I could get them to come out to my wagon I was sure to trade some.) I, therefore, resorted to a stratagem to lure them from their retreats, much in the same way that the fowl- er uses his stool-pigeon to attract the attention of the flock. I bought a young cub and fastened it on my wagon, and on drinng up to a house, before I could get my wagon-box open, the children would discover the bear, with the exclamation, " O Ma ! see the bear on the pedler's wagon !" And by the time I had opened my box the whole family were gathered about my wagon. Thus, between the bear and myself, we sold a large amount of ware; al- though Mr. K. made considerable in selling his tin, yet he lost much in getting rid of the stuff he took in exchange. In the course of this employment 62 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE my ingenuity was often severely taxed, my love of jollity and the ridiculous often gratified, and upon the whole, my acquaintance with the world and my notions of human nature were a good deal enlarged. My peddling engagement being completed, the next speculation that engaged my attention was bell making — another new business to me. Accord- ingly, I formed a co-partnership with a young man of my own age, Hiram Dixon, for the purpose of manufacturing about two thousand cow-bells, in the town of Litchfield. This was like putting a steady old horse to work witli a spirited colt. Dixon, as to years, was my peer; but as to sedateness, dignity of deportment, and stability, he was old enough to be my fether. He was an erect, slim, almost gaunt, clerical-looking gentleman, with a face that looked as if it might have served some reverend curate at the installation of St. Peter. As a tribute to his clerical cast, he was familiarly known among his acquaintances by the cognomen of " Elder Spinner," there being in the county a venerable dominie of that name, all but the " elder." But notwithstand- ing our so opposite characters, we united our capital and labour, made our two thousand cow-bells, and set out for the western country to dispose of them. We sold them mostly at Cleveland, Upper and Lower Sandusky, and Detroit, and took for pay, horses, deer-skins, furs, and many other things. AVe landed at Detroit the day that General Cass LIKH OF U. W. IIENKV. 63 was inaugurated governor of the Michigan Territory-. Detroit, at that time, contained but a few houses, and they were old and dingy. I think it had but two taverns. The pi-incipal one, where the governor put up, was, of course, so filled that we wayfaring traffickers could not find entertainnaent there ; so we were constrained to go down to the less nabobical ''Blue Ball," as the next and only resort. Here we received genuine " western " fare, and slept on a straw couch. However, the next day we disposed of as much of our merchandise as we could, and prepared to take ship for home. To cut short a long story, we gathered up our deer-skins and other eftects, and took them to the city of New- York, the most of them, and made a tolerably profitable ti'ip, if I recollect rightly. Being now tired and sick of roving, I took a firm resolve to settle down in some steady business, get married, and be no longer " a citizen of the world." So, in the fall of 1823, I bought a lot in Frankfort, Herkimer County, and built a blacksmith shop and bell factory. There were at that time one tavern, one store, and a few scattered dwellings in this place. It was then not known as a village. It is now a sprightly and rather handsome village, numbering about seven hundred inhabitants. When I had got my bell factory, and blacksmith shop completed and supplied with workmen, my business and my purse gi'eatly increased. But here was in waiting for me another unexpected reverse. There was then pre- 04 TlilALS AND rnil Ml'IlS IN THE valent in our country an epidemic — a disease of the eyes. I arose one morning in March perfectly sound and healthy, but before noon I was as blind as a post. My eyes were greatly swollen with intense inflammation. I remained in blindness till mid- summer, when, by a great deal of good nursing, I partially recovered. In the mean time my business affairs were in a state of chaos, and my shop was desolate ; but as soon as I was well enough, I went to New- York, took with me all the bells I liad made, and an elegant large Arabian horse, beautifully piebald, with a large, graceful, silvery tail, nearly sweeping the ground, and his mane corresponding : but he was a lazy, clumsy ti'aveller. I expected to get for him about $140 in the city, but in taking him from the vessel to the wharf, he, by a slip, lamed himself, so that it was difficult to get him in or out of the stable for many days. I disposed of my bells at once, and would gladly have left the city for home, could I have disposed of my lame horse, which, with myself, cost me at least two dollars a day for maintenance. I began to feel a horse fever : I hunted up customers who would come only to look at my horse and find fault with him, offer me some trifling sum for liira, and walk off. But I at length found a man who was buying up horses to establish a circus in the city. He said he would give me a great price for my horse if I would get him well of his lameness. Cheered by this prospect, I fussed over him and doctored him until he was nearly or HFK OF li. W. HEXKV. 05 quite well. I harnessed him one day before a buggy and drove him gallantly down to show liim to the circusman, my palms, meantime, itching for about $140. The circusman, after driving him a little be- fore the carriage, desired to take him out and try his activity in galloping around a circle. So we drove down to a vacant piece of ground, which was surrounded by some old rickety houses, filled with the very poorest class of people. There was one old liouse with a set of dilapidated stairs, fenced in by some rotten banisters to prevent people or other animals from falling into a hole about four feet deep, in front of the basement story, which was occupied by a negro family, while this hole or cavity between the basement and the banistei-s was ornamented with a swill-ban-el and other like useful articles. An Irish family lived, or rather staid, above. The liorse was taken out, and a boy mounted him, whip in hand, to prove his dexterity. He had nothing on his liead but a blind-bridle and gig-rein, which served to pull liis nose right straight up. With the blind-bridle on, he could not see where he went, but he made one or two awkward evolutions. He took fright, and, with his nose elevated in the air, like a hog's in a gale of wind, he rushed with all speed towards the above described house and gave a desperate plunge, sweeping away the old banisters as a cobweb, and dashing his liead through the Irish woman's window, scattering the sash and glass through lier house, while his fore legs knocked in the negro woman's 6U TKIALS AKU TKlUMiniS IN HIE window in the same manner, at tlie same time that one of his hind legs was in the swill-barrel ! The shouts of the rowdies that had gathered round, in concert with the vocifeious squalls and cursings that came from the negro nest below and the Irish wo- man above, rendered the scene laughable and yet distressing. My horse fever was now at its height ! But my philosophy soon returned to my aid. I cooled down, got some ropes, and with the aid of the multitude, soon had my hoise standing on his cantering ground once more. I paid the damage he had done to the house, swapped him away im- mediately for a cart-liorse, and then sold the cart- horse for forty dollai's, which just about paid my bills at the livery stable and tavern ; and lastly took a steamboat that night, happy and thankful that I had got rid of him so well. Foi; I seldom, if ever, in the whole couree of my life, cried for spilled milk, but generally gatheixid up my spoon and basin, well peisuaded, by some bright prospect just before me, that it would soon be better filled. In fact, I have generally felt more courage at the foot of the hill than in any other position. Running after the riches of this world for the purpose of happiness is like a child seeking for i)retty thing-s at the rain- bow's end, which seems to be just in the adjoining field. So hope and ambition have led men on from the wreck of one prospect to the opening of another — from one failure to another fortune in ] (ros|)e(.'t. I.IFE UK O. W, IIKNKV. 07 No sooner had I landed at Albany that night than I bought another large quantity of stock for bells. In handling over a lot of rusty sheet-iron, ^ and exerting myself to get my stuff shipped for Frankfort that night, I was in a state of profuse perspiration. My object accomplished, I mounted the stage for Troy, whereby I took a severe cold, which, together with the iron-rust, caused a relapse of tlie disease of my eyes ; and when I got out of the stage at Troy my eyes were terribly swollen. I hastened liome again to my friends, suffering ex- cruciating pain, and entirely blind ; and I think I lay for about three months in a dark room excru- ciated by the inflammation of my eyes and tortured by my physician, until at length I was emaciated to a mere skeleton. My friends and physician de- spaired of my ever again seeing the light of day, and indeed few, if any, expected me long to live. My pious mother sometimes spoke to me of my pre- paration for the solemn change, which was rather oflensive to my eai-s, for even in this state of affairs I was full of hope and expectation of a speedy re- covery both of sight and health ; indeed, some of the finest speculations were here presented to my view, rendering a sure equivalent for all my bad luck. I will here relate two dreams that brought me relief in my darkest time, singular, and, as I thought, significant. I dreamed that I suddenly died in the city of New- York, or was supposed to be dead, and was immediately taken and laid in a 68 TRIALS AND TKILMI'HS IN THE vault or sepulchre in St. Paul's church-yard. I thought I came to life and broke open the stone of the sepulchre and came out, and then I saw erected a tomb-stone with this inscription on it, " Sacred to the memory of George W. Henry," telling the man- ner of my death. I there also read four lines of well-measured poetry, most perfectly appropriate to my case, and, as I thought I read them, I awoke, and I think I repeated the verse to my mother, who was then sitting by my bed-side, relating to her my dream, and assuring her that I should soon recover. The verse has entirely escaped from my memory. Again, falling asleep, I dreamed of being on the ice on a mill-pond, which broke in with me, and I thought I should liave drowned had it not been for old Mrs. Golden, an old lady living in the neigh- bourhood. I then awoke and found myself high and dry in bed. Soon after, this same old lady came in and proposed a remedy for my eyes, which was a salve of cat-tail flag-root, and which, on trial, produced a speedy cure. I was soon on my legs again, wide awake for business. Now, reader, you have a right to think just as you please about these dreams — I only hope you will suit yourself. My next move, after these calamities, was to gather together my workmen, tools, and stock, and to get my shop into full operation again. I then proceeded to build and finish off a two-story house, together with the requisite out-houses, such as barn, woodshed, &c., in neat and handsome order. This LIFK OK \V. HEXRV. G9 was all (lone in al)out three months after m)' re- covery from sickness, and my house was very neatly and comfortably furnished. My cousin, Miss Mary Everett, a well-educated and intelligent young lady of about my own age, set my house in excellent order, for a young bachelor, and made it as cheerful as a bachelor's hall well could be, and at the same time rendered me great assistance in posting my books and in acting as my scribe generally. I was now, late in the same fall, ready to go to New- York again with a fine lot of bells, (unencumbered by any Arabian hoi-se,) which were soon disposed of to the hardware merchants, and a contract was made for about six thousand more, and stock procured for the same. But right here fortune had set another snare for me, baited with a golden prospect. There had just been introduced into market the fair calf-skin pocket-book, which sold very quick and at a large profit. The merchants advised me to go into the manufacturing of them, suggesting that there could be any quantity sold in the spring. My bell and bell-stufi' contract being consummated, I soon re- turned liome, and my fii-st move was to prepare me a saddle and harness-maker's shop ; hired journey- men, procured stock, and set them to work at mak- ing saddles and harness, as I needed men that were acquainted with leather to assist about cutting out pocket-books ; this was the reason that I established this shop. My next move was to put my bell fac- tory into lull operation. About this time I had con- 70 TRIALS AND TRU'MPUS IN THE traded with the superintendent of the cannl to do the principal iron work on about forty miles of the Erie Canal, for the State. This branch of business being under full headway, and having procured my materials for pocket-books, I employed twelve or fifteen young ladies, mostly farmers' daughters, to sew the pocket-books. They all boarded with me, and a more respectable and comely looking party of young women you could scarcely wish to look upon. Reader, pause a moment and look back but six months, where you find the author making his way out of the old church-yard of St. Paid's, and loscued from the old mill-dam ; you see him de- prived of sight and balancing between two worlds, his business aflairs a heterogeneous mass of con- fusion : behold, and mark the change that a few short months have wrought, and hence learn never to despair as long as you have life, and a solitary red cent and a jack-knife to jingle together. Let fiiith and works go hand in hand in temporal affairs as well as spiritual. When I arose from my sickness, six months pre- \dous, from the many losses I had suffered, I do not think I was worth over one hundred dollars: by the time five months had elapsed, I think I had my buildings nearly paid for by the profits I had received on my last lot of bells, and I now had in my employ upwards of thirty workmen, including the interest- ing collection of young ladies. What a field for a man of enterprise, and a lady's man withal ! Be- LIFE OF (i. W. IIKNHV. 71 sides these young ladies in ni}- employ, my house was a rendezvous for all the young beaux and belles of the neighbourhood, and hilarity was generally the order of the day. I was constrained to put on as much gravity of look and dignity of deportment as I could assume, in order to preserve that order in the ranks which decorum as well as pecuniary con- siderations demanded ; still there was any quantity of fun and frolic to be had. In reviewing those young ladies, then so full of mirth and apparent happiness, I find they have many of them gone to the spirit-land. But spring came on ; and by the time the canal opened, I had a large quantity^ of hells and pocket-books ready for market. My bells I readily disposed of in New-York, and made money on them ; but unfortunately for my pocket-books, I lost about as much on them as I made on my bells. The New-England folks had taken the hint as to the pocket-book speculation, (they are generally wide awake for novelties,) and made enough that winter to glut the whole market ; and the East River hav- ing opened about ten days earlier than the Hudson, my Yankee neighbours had got the start of me, and reduced me to the unpoetical necessity of disposing of mine at the best rate I might, at public auction. Thus what I made on one lot, I lost on the other. But then business is business, and I had had the satisfaction of driving a smacking enterprise with no little gusto. I realized here, as many times after- wards, the significance of the woi'ds of the satirist : — riilAi.S AND TinUMPIIS IN THK " The King of France went up the hill, And then went down again." I returned home, where (having dismissed my lielp l)efore starting for New- York) I found my house and my sliop empty and silent. Desolation brooded over the scene. " I felt like one w ho treads alone Some banquet hall deserted, Whose lights are fled, whose garlands dead, And all hut he departed." Or, like Richard III., I felt that " I never could en- dure an inglorious peace." It was like a sickening calm succeeding a rough sea. CHAPTER VI. Soon after my return from New- York, as before re- lated, when desolation brooded over my earthly habitation, and when grim despair would have paralyzed the energies of a less elastic disposition, I entered upon another project, which, like every for- mer undertaking, seemed to promise a fortune. I resolved to build a large tavern in the village of Frankfort, having a strong desire to build up the place, which was then in its infancy ; and it was the opinion of many knowing ones of my neighbours that another public house would be supported, there already being one, as before stated, in the village. LIKE OK <;. W. fIBNKV. 73 Ha\in2: resolved to commence it, and knowing tliat I. had not sufficient capital to complete it, I made an agreement with Adam I. Campbell, a resident of the place, for him to advance money and goods to assist me in the completion of it, at the same time placing all my property in liis hands as an indemnity against any loss ; expecting, when it should be completed, to raise money on it by mortgage whereby to pay Mr. Campbell and redeem my property; and thus Mr. C. would turn many of his goods into money, at the same time that I should establish my public liouse, and add much to the business and beauty of the place. In spite of the impediments of a rainy autumn, in less than three months I erected a hxrge brick edifice, together with a large barn and shed, besides one or two other dwelling-houses, and had them all completed. But instead of its costing about $1,200, as had been estimated, it cost more than $2,000. Failing to mortgage it, I also failed to re- cover it from Mr. C.'s hands ; and he, having stopped payments after advancing about half its cost, and leaving me to shoulder the rest of the debt without anything to pay with, still holds on to the property to the present day. At this time I think my debts in the village did not exceed one hundred and fifty dollars, besides this debt to Mr. Campbell ; and these were owing to honest and industrious mechanics, and it is greatly to be regretted that some of them remain unpaid to the present time. lUit I Avas compelled, by one of 74 TRIALS AND TniUMPHS IK THE luy principal debts in the city of New-York, to " take the benefit of the act " to prevent a merciless ca. sa., as the lawyers call it, from consigning me to the walls of a debtor's prison, or restricting my residence within the " limits," among a set of lazy loafers — an unpleasant alternative, it is true, for an honest man, but one which a man of my habits of life, who loved action and his personal liberty as I did, could not hesitate to choose. Yet I resolved, before taking the benefit of the act, to make one more effort to pay my debts without being reduced to that hu- miliating necessity. I went to Herkimer and united with Mr. William Small in making up a large quan- tity of cow-bells. He was to find the materials and r to do the work. I worked faithfully during that winter, and turned out a large quantity of fine bells, while all the stock and bells, meantime, were in the hands of Mr. S., with a private understanding between us that I should have all the profits arising from the sale of them, to pay my honest liabilities, he standing be- tween me and my merciless creditor. But it finally turned out much like the fable of the two travellers, who found an oyster, and submitted the question of title to an ingenious lawyer, they being unable to settle the point between themselves ; the lawyer, you remember, took out his jack-knife, opened the oyster, swallowed the meat himself, and gave each disputant a shell for his share, which was doubtless very satis- factory to both. So it happened with tlie debtor LIFC OF 0. W. HKNRV. 75 ami cmlitor in this ease, as well in regard to the brick house, as the bell contract; they could both have said, in reference to the matter, " blessed be nothing and had I been called upon to give up the ghost just then, I could have said, like Job, that I came naked into the world, and naked I should go out I was compelled, painful as it was, after all my toil and anxiety, to avoid such a result, to take the benefit of the act. I therefore filed my bond, advertised in the newspapers for three months, and prepared to set sail for the Lackawaxen Canal, in Penn- sylvania, where I should be earning some money, and at the same time be as far removed as possible from the taunts and sneers and curses of a certain class of public-spirited gentlemen, who are generally seen sitting in tavern-porches, and who drink rum, smoke cigars, and swear lustily, and to show their philan- thropy and abhorrence of dishonesty, are usually engaged in descanting upon the demerits, and mak- ing slanderous observations of their industrious neighbours ; and if one of these has been so unfor- tunate as to fail in business, no matter how upright and honest may have been the whole tenor of his course, these tavern-haunting gossips will be heard loudly lamenting how much tJmj hav:e suftered by such failure, and pleading the same in excuse for the non-payment of their tailor, board, and tavern bills. It has ever been one of the greatest mysteries to me, how so many of the above-mentioned characters pass so easily through life, generally well dressed 1G TRIALS AND TRIl'MPIIS IN THE .uid fivt, while they scarcely make an efloi t above tliat of whittling a shingle, or picking their teeth, that have fed on other people's earnings ; and at the same time the industrious and deserving, by inces- sant toil and frugality, can scarcely get a comforta- ble living. But then I am satisfied that the well- clad loafer is more justly an object of pity than of envy ; the beggar in rags is a gentleman compared with the beggar in fine cloth, for the latter combines ill himself the knave with the mendicant — a most unworthy compound — a composition, however, usu- ally met with in your bar-room brawlers and village gossips. But in my case was fulfilled the old atlage — " Fools build houses, and wise men live in them ;" for of all my acquaintance, I know of no individual who could go through the United States and show more houses of his own construction, and shops, steam-mills and water-mills, besides rail-roads, canals, lumbering, &c., than myself ; and now, after all, at the meridian of life, I have not so much as a shingle to whittle, of which I can claim the fee simple. But in all these circumstances, I have realized that "Hope swells eternal in the human breast; Man never is, but always to be blest." At the time of which I was speaking, a fine speculation was presented at the South to engage myself on the public works ; but the ways and means for transporting myself to the new land of promise HrK OF G. \V. HENKV. 77 were to be devised ; and to effect this, I was reduced to the mortifying necessity of disposing of all that remained to me of the wreck of my fortune — how greatly to the humbling of my military ]mde ! My martial equipments I sold to Edward I)a^^s, Esq., one of my lieutenants. This recalls to my mind another one of mj' feats of folly. I had just re- turned from sitting as one of the board of Court Martial of the regiment, as my masons laid the last cap-stone of the brick house, and it was agreed by them that I should stand erect on the top battle- ment in full uniform, and take a bottle of liquor in hand, drink a toast, give three cheers, and throw the bottle, which was very readily complied with. AVhile I thus stood, plumed like a peacock, had any one told me that in a few days I should be obliged to sell the very clothes that were then upon my back, and the epaulets that graced my shouldei-s, to bear my expenses in travelling out of sight of the very building I had toiled so hard to erect, and which I was then honouring with a toast, I can hardly say whether it would have " raised my dander," or moved me to laughter at his presump- tion ! But, ah me ! how little do we know what a day may bring forth ! MiUtaiy pride, manly ambi- tion, even the glory itself of this world, all, all are the sport and playthings of fortune. All things being packed up for my departure, I bade adieu to all my friends and building-s, and very soon found myself engaged in superintending 18 TIUALS ANU TKIUMPHS IN THE labourers on the Lackawaxen, at tliirty dollars a month and board, for Littlejohn & Bellinger. It was in a wilderness country. Here I continued till the time arrived for my return to Frankfort, to attend to my insolvency matters. But here fate had pre- pared another sore disappointment and grievous mis- fortune for me, just before I was ready to return to Frankfort. I was suddenly seized with an acute in- flammation of the eyes, by which, with the mal- treatment of a quack doctor, I entirely lost my right eye within two days from the time I was fii-st taken, and I have never seen out of it from that day to this : the coatings of the eye broke, and the humours ran out. I came back, however, enduring severe pain, arranged my business, and recovered my health a little. I hastened to the South again, and in less than two months had under contract more than twenty thousand dollars worth of work on the Juniata Canal, in the southern part of Pennsylvania, with little else than my face to recommend me at that time. I had three locks to build ; my credit was about as good as any other man's for all I had need of, and I was soon under full headway, with bright prospects of clearing about three thousand dollars ; and what made it more cheering, I was hoping to be able to pay all my honest debts in this country. By untiring application I built one lock, the first on the line, and never did I perform a piece of work more faithfully and honestly than I did that lock. But, says the reader, I hope bad luck did not attend 79 you liere, too ? But I am sorry to tell you, that when liope was the highest, and my prospects tlie brightest, fate here again crossed my path. I took the contract under De Witt Clinton, jr., son of Gov- ernor Clinton, who was chief engineer, and a particular friend of mine. The lock was partly built up under his supervision ; but the canal commissioners and he disagreed, and he left the line. There was re- placed in his stead a little, contemptible, petty tyrant, who had once or twice rubbed his back against the rocks at AVest Point. Soon there commenced a civil, or rather an uncivil war between the contractors and canal commissioners. The only weapon used, however, both offensive and defensive, was the tongue, that unruly member, which is full of poison. About one-half of the contractore were New- York men ; and there were envy and jealousy awakened in the breasts of the Pennsylvanians against Clinton and his principal assistant, Wm. H. Morel), who was also a New-Yorker, or Yankee, as we were called, charging them with being partial to their own countrymen, both in bestowing work and in grant- ing indulgences ; and this was one of the reasons that Clinton and Morell left the canal. As is common in such cfises, each party took up for their friends, and here is the only charge I bring against myself in the whole transaction, which was the cause of the sad disaster which followed ; and that is, that I took so conspicuous a part in behalf and sujjportof Clinton and Morell against the canal 80 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE commissioners, who I knew were men too noble and high-minded to be justly subject to such charges as were brought against them. But there is no re- sisting successfully public clamour, or Avhat is called public opinion; law, equity, innocence, all are in- sufficient for this, when the multitude cry, " Crucify him ! crucify him !" So it happened with Clinton and his friends : he was obliged to give way, as be- fore stated, to this smalt tyrant, chosen by the com- missioners as a cat's paw in their hands, to punish the friends of Mr. Clinton with. During the period of this warfare, I had finished the lock in question from bottom to top, both neat and strong, and was then entitled to receive therefor !5!2,'700. But instead of my receiving that, as was my due, there was pronounced an edict by this petty tyrant, like that pronounced against the tem- ple and walls of Jerusalem, that not one stone sliould be left upon another. He must see the bottom course of it, giving as a reason that he was deter- mined to see all the important Avork on the line reared up under his immediate eye. This inflicted a wound upon my prosperity, which was never fully healed. A contract with the Commonwealth had been di-awn up in the most aristocratic form, bind- ing the contractor to strict obedience to the will of the engineer having charge of the work ; so that any omission or neglect on the part of the contractor, whether real or imaginary, subjected his contract to forfeiture, according to the caprice of this lordling I.IFB OF (;. W. HENKV. 81 chief, whose word was the end of the law, tlioiigli not in righteousness ; and one-fifth of all the money estimated on the job was forfeited besides, which was denominated a retain percentage. This is re- tained by the State as a guaranty for the perform- ance of the undertaking. For instance, should a contractor do a thousand dollars' worth of work every month, he is paid but eight hundred dollars for it ; so if a man had a contract of fifty thousand dollars, when the job is completed, the State retains in its hands ten thousand of it, which is used as a rod to hold over him until the final completion of his engagement, to compel him to yield to the re- quirements of the State, for this is always subject to forfeiture. I am more particular on this subject than I would otherwise be, for the reason that so many wonders are made that contractor do not become wealthy in doing so much business, and handling so much money ; and, if possible, to relieve myself from the odium I have been subjected to by a great many of my friends and acquaintances, who are so apt to judge and condemn without knowing anything of the merits of the case. So you see I was reduced to this dilemma — either to pull down my lock and build it over ; or to walk off and leave my job, and ray workmen and creditors unpaid. But you know it is said, " What can't be cured must be endured," so I pulled down the lock ; but before it was rebuilt, ^ reaction took place in consequence of this and 82 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE many liko flagrant assumptions of power, and the pigmy tyrant and liis sycophantic assistant were fairly scouted from the country by the same public, and an honourable man took his place by the name of James Ferguson, under whom I finished my work ; and with much difficulty I made out to pay my debts, and I found myself in a safe position at the bottom of the hill. In this contract I realized how true is the proverb of the wise man : " He that meddleth with strife belonging not to him, is like one that taketh a dog by the ears." Here I might tell the reader of an adventure I had at a place called Tuckahoe, at the headwaters of the Juniata, among the Alleghany mountains, where I had gathered up about eighty rafts of tim- ber preparatory to launching, after the river should have cleared of ice in the spring; and how there came an unusual deluge and swept my lumber down the stream and lodged it together, mixed up with other rubbish ; and what difficulty I had in getting it down to the place of destination. But let us pass on to something of greater moment, and more in- teresting. And I would have my kind reader mark as we pass, the sore disappointments that are con- cealed in almost every glittering prize of which am- bition is in pursuit. He shall see that it is almost true that " Each pleasure has its poison too, And every sweet its snare." Although T now found myself, as T had often before LIFE OF G. W. HEXRY. 83 beon, at the foot of the hill, out of money, nnd out of the good graces of the canal commissioners, in consequence of my zeal in the cause of my friend Clinton, yet they were forced to acknowledge me to be a good contractor, and that not one man in twenty would hav^e borne up under my embarrass- ments without fainting, or would have attempted to finish the work as I had done. But I dre^v up a petition to the Legislature of Pennsylvania, asking remuneration for the wrongs and loss I had sus- tained from the flagitious act of Alexander Twining, the chief engineer. I rigged up in a first-rate suit of clothes, went to Harrisburgh, took lodgings at the first hotel in town, and, as it happened, one of the Canal Commissioners was my chum, and, by-the- way, a very clever, social man. It was not long before I was reinstated in the good graces of the whole Board ; and when our hearts became well mellowed by the softening influence of champagne, all were brought on a level together, when all digni- ties and titles were laid under the table : not that the dignitaries themselves were laid under the table, but their dignities only ! In this state of the case I chose, rather as an accident, to introduce my claim, and in such an unguarded moment you know almost any man may be brought to terms. It was when Artaxerxas was well filled with wine that Nehemiah pressed his claim, and received a grant, not only of permission, but money also, to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem. I orot my first bill throitfrh both branches 84 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IX THE of tlie Legislature. But it was reduced nearly one- half the amount I was entitled to by a portion of the members who were inaccessible, and whose governing principle of action was, " Keep what you get, and get what you can." But still it was a profitable winter to me, in many respects ; I not only listened to the debates of both houses, but made the acquaintance of the governor and many of the principal men of the State and nation, to wliom I should not otherwise have had access. Here I learned much of human nature; and from what I saw here, and from my general acquaintance witli all grades of mankind, from a penny whistle up to a German flute, I am constrained to conclude that Sam Slick's opinion of society may generally be relied on as correct. Sam says be found society very much like pickled pork — the bottom pieces a little rusty, the tip-top pieces somewhat tainted ; but the best and sweetest of the pork is generally found in the middle layers of the barrel. This is, of course, but a general rule, both as to the pork and as to society, and is subject to exceptions. In the winter of 1831 the Legislature of Penn- sylvania granted a loan of upwards of two millions of dollars for the extension of rail-roads and canals in the State, and there was soon thrown into the market a large quantity of work. The first was a rail-road to cross the Alleghany Mountains — the most gigantic work of the kind in the United States — a distance of thirty-six miles, commencing at LIFE OF G. W. IlENKV. So Hollidaysburgb, at the head of the Juniata Canal, on the eastern side of the mountains, and ending on the west side of the village of Johnstown — thus connect- ing the line of canals from Philadelphia to Pitts- burgh. The aggregate cost of this rail-road, includ- ing materials, on an average, was forty-four tliousand dollars per mile. The time for letting contracts was at hand, and the time for me to make another rush for fortune. Well knowing that I had but Httle capital to begin with, I proposed, nevertheless, for a large quantity of work, believing that I had the en- tire confidence and friendship of the canal coramis- sionere, who had the allotment of the work ; and they proved their friendship by gi\ing me nine miles of the above road to construct, and in addi- tion to this, upwards of one million feet of white-oak timber, to deliver for the use of the Commonwealth. Here was a golden prospect for me. I could take my pencil, and figure out a fortune of ten or fifteen thousand dollars, clear gain, to be realized at the completion of this job, and not a cloud of doubt ovei-shadowed the prospect. Well, says the reader, I hope we shall see the end of this job without the interference of that old arch-foe. Bad Luck. I thank you, my kind friend, for your good wishes ; but you will learn, as you pass with me through the job, as we have so many times seen, how true it is that " Disappointment lurks in many a prize, As bees in flowers, and stings us with success." And here my disappointment catne from a source 8G TRIALS AND 'IKIUMI'IIS IN THE unlooked for by the most sagacious. Misfortune, like death, comes to us in many ways and many forms, and often when we least anticipate its pres- ence, and finds us in the very act of crying peace and safety. It is now a mystery to me how I could have put so much work into active motion at once, without any capital to speak of, and rising, as I did, immediately from the wreck of former undertakings, like a phcenix from the ashes of its sire ; for I had not, at this time, to begin all this work, a capital exceeding $300 — a work embracing the pulling down of mountains, the filling up of valleys, hum- bling the stately forests around me, building mills, stores, houses, &c., necessary to commence so im- ])ortant a job. I Avas connected in business Avith no one ; but in less than two months from the time I took the contract, I had a deed of a farm costing about $3,000, built a saw-mill on it, and had five new mills running night and day ; had twelve yoke of oxen, and several teams of horses of my own, all actively engaged in forwarding timber to the mills, and a large number of men in the woods engaged in preparing the timber: very soon I had a large store erected and filled with goods. I then erected a number of shops for blacksmiths, wagon-makers, tailors, &c., and had them in active operation. My next move was to build several shanties, furnish them with men, tools, and provisions, and within tliree months from (he date of my contract all the above was accomplished by a stranger in a strange LIFE OF G. W. IIENRV. 87 country, with a cajwtal not exceeding $300 ! and where but a few days before was nothing but a gloomy wilderness Wivste, all was now life and busi- ness. This may indeed seem something like brag- ging, but yet it is only a plain, literal representation of fact. It really may be surprising to my reader — it is so to myself^ — that I could command, under such circumstances, such unbounded confidence and credit. Having my troops thus orderly arranged, and the wliole machinery in liarmonious operation, we moved steadily and profitably on without one jarring discord, receiving an estimate every month more than enough to pay all expenses over and above the one-fifth retained by the State, until the whole job was about half finished. The day being appointed to receive the monthly estimate, all the contractors gathered together as usual to receive their money from the superintendent ; but, to their astonishment, they were told by him that there was no money in the locker. Here my old foe, my constant attendant thus for, grown to an enormous size and most formidable in appearance, bolted once more unexpectedly into my path, and really hideous were now the features of Bad Luck. It is said that it is better to be born to good luck than to a great fortune ; but I seemed to have been born to neither. Indeed, it would seem that I was a legitimate heir to Bad Luck, and that he was about to lavish on me all his inheritance; but not so in reality, for even in this houriof trouble I might yy TKIALS ASi) TKIUMI'HS IN THE liiive had the consolation of the benevolent old wo- man, who thanked God that her neighboui-s had lost their cows as well as she hers ; and strange as it may appear, it is notorious how misery often seeks misery, as a companion consolatory in her distresses. Man- kind are very apt to record blessings on the sand, but misfortunes on tables of marble. But to judge justly, we should weigh our troubles in one scale and our blessings in the other, and I think we shall have vastly more cause for gratitude than gi-ief. We should " Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But tnist him for his grace ; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face." I ask jJardon tor straying so far from the direct line of my narration. Let us return to the top of the AUeghanies, where we were told by the super- intendent that we must return home without an estimate, there to meet one hundred and fifty la- bourers and as many farmers with their wives, each presenting his bill and pressing his claim for pay- ment, telling the contractor that he was in the hands of the sheriff" or constable, and would be thrust into jail unless he could receive his due, to meet his liabilities ; and then to meet here and there the wife of an Irishman, saying that she bad " not so much as a pataty in the house for two days ;" and almost every one presenting a diversified claim — tile poor contractor, meantime, being forced to put LIFE UF Li. W. HENKV. 89 tlieiii off as best he might know how by assuiing and convincing them against their will that better times were just at hand, wliile one-half would get drunk on the spur of the disappointment and have a row, and the rest would curse their employer for trying to cheat them out of their wages. Now a merchant or a banker may fail for $50,000, and have less trouble and occasion less noise about it than a contractor or any other man who owes $500 in little bills scattered through community and who fails to meet them promptly ; and there is as mucli difference in the anguish experienced in these two positions, as there would be in being blown to atoms at the mouth of a cannon, or being devoured by a swarm of musquitoes. But, saj s the reader, what is the reason you did not get your estimate ? Hereon hangs a chain of circumstances pregnant with momentous results. From the effect let us trace the cause. The super- intendent tells the contractor that there is no money in his hands, giving as a reason that there is none in the State treasury ; go to the State treasurer, and he would tell you that Pennsylvania, with all her boasted wealth and internal resources, could not borrow a dollar on the State credit — assigning as the reason that a war had been proclaimed by General Jackson, then President of the United States, and his adherents against the United States Bank, and that that moneyed monster had shut its huge jaws upon all moneyed operations thraughout the Union 90 TRIALS ANU TRIUMPHS IN THE — the Bank yielding as its apology for the wide- spread dismay and ruin it was thus occasioning throughout the nation that the general had with- drawn from its voracious maw the United States deposits, and that he and Biddle were already iu battle array against each other, the one a candidate for a reelection to the presidency, the other doing desperate battle for a recharter of the Bank for twenty years — the final issue to be determined the next year at the ballot-box. President Jackson had declared to the people in his messages his determined and uncompromising hostility to that institution, setting forth its dangerous corruptions and controlling power, and thus bringing the issue definitely before the people for their determination — either to approve or condemn the general's views and doings — and upon the result of the election, it Avas well under- stood, was suspended the fate of the Bank. And in the council of war held by the commander-in- chief of the bank party, Nick Biddle, and his sub- ordinates, it was doubtless resolved that coercive measures should be resorted to, by which their power should be felt by the people on whom de- \olved the decision of the strife, and thus to de- monstrate that the Bank had the power as well as the disposition either to rule or ruin the country. Therefore every country bank, as well as every cotton, iron, or other manufacturing establishment, indebted tu the Bank, it was decreed, should be required forth- with to pay all their dues, imless tho Bank should LIFE OF (i. W. UEXKV. 1)1 be rechartered. Consequently almost every country bank was soon forced to suspend specie-payments, to cease to discount, and to gather in their debts as soon as possible — all trembling in fear of the ex- asperated monster. In regard to Pennsylvania, it was most likely resolved in the same council that her business enterprises should be reduced to starvation, well knowing that her citizens were nearly two to one in ftivour of Jackson. She was most especially to be " held in durance vile," — and so it proved ; for she was not able to borrow a single dollar till after the election to paj' off her thousands of suffering contractors and labourers; consequentl}^ the man that had the most business on hand was the greatest sufferer. But I was like a teamster that gets stallei"oposed to him, at the same time, to leave it out to any three men to settle for us, and we to abide the result. But he, in league with his lawyer and the Canal Commissioner that held the money, chose to fight it out. Although contrary to the order of court, they divided a portion of the money among them- selves, to gamble and shave with, and to war with me until the court should decide in my favour, as they could have no reason to doubt would be the case, for the case was so palpable and plain. Here was probably as unholy a trio of infidel blacklegs as were ever leagued together — having my own money in their hands to war against me with in my weakness and embarrassment. I filed my bill in the case, and he his answer, diametrically opposite to each other, and yet each making solemn oath to the 101 truth of the facts set forth iu his bill and answer — whereas one or the other must be false in the sight of God and man, and, consequently, one or the other of us committed deliberate, wilful, and corrupt per- jury, and, according to the laws of the land, was a fit candidate for the penitentiary. So here was character, as well as money, at stake. ]3ut, after contending three years, the suit was at length decided by the Court of Errors, at Annapolis, in my favour. Now, reader, I liave said that either the author or his antagonist swore false, and that wilfully and corruptly. You will never know which it was — you need not know which it was — until that great day, wlien all things shall be revealed, and passed upon by the Judge of all the earth, who will surely judge right. Earthly tribunals may, indeed, bo properly enough styled courts of error, for they often gi\'e erroneous judgments, and the innocent sufter. But it is a matter of joy to my heart, that we are not to be judged at the last by the feeble and foggy understanding of an earthly judge, and that all false witnesses will be silent there. Men may go through the world "unwhipped of justice," but, behold, at the last all shall have tlieir reward. All the other troubles and anguish of my whole life, from my cradle to the moment of writing this narrative, (and I think I have had my share,) taken together, would be but as the dust in the balance compared with what I endured in this sad affair — of all the other wounds ever inflicted upon me, there was none 102 TlilAI.S AXI) TRILMPHS IN THE SO sore as tliis. Like David, I was wounded in the liouse of ray friends. Had an enemy done this, I could have borne it — ^but it was one tliat had eaten of my bread ; it was one — but then the ties of con- sanguinity ai-e frailer than the spider's web to one who can violate the sacred obligations of hospitality without remorse — in whose unmanly bosom every sentiment of gratitude is extinct. This was a contest of three years' duration. During this time the canal money, which was the kind of money attached, was depreciated down to seventeen cents on a dollar. This I consigned for the benefit of my creditors, a fraction of the $18,000 rotten debts which I gave to pay $8,250 that I owed. When he came on to the job he was not worth one hundred dollars, but is now, I presume, worth four thousand, Avhile I am as I am. Never- theless I am happy and content. I envy him not, nor would I injure him ; I pray that he may repent, if he has not repented of the great wrong, and that God may forgive him, — I have, from my heart. Gladly would I have passed over this incident in silence, on account of associations and peculiar circumstances, but I have undertaken to write a history of my life, and I cannot pass over an event so important, which had so great an influence upon my feelings and fortune, without giving it a place in as few words as possible. And this is the last contract of this nature that I shall speak of but one, and that I shall defer to the latter part of this work, I. IKK OK (;. \V. lIKNltV. 10;{ in onlei- to introJuce in their i)i-opor jjlace my spiritual life and temporal blindness. And now, my dear reader, before resuming the direct thread of my narrative, let us take a retrospect of the ground over which we have travelled. We sec that from the time I entered upon the full tide of my business life, fate seemed to prescribe the path for me to pui-sue, with the settled determina- tion that I should not obtain the great object of my panting ambition — wealth and independence ; for we have seen that none of my important contracts have ended well, although no mortal eye could have perceived the end from the beginning, and although no material fault of mine seemed to characterize the execution of them — Bad Luck seemed to play a conspicuous part in them all. I think you cannot say but that I have tried hard enough, and ways enough to have obtained a fortune, if it had been for me, — that is, if sujierabundancc of this world's goods may be regarded a fortune. Almost any man may look back over his past life and see many mistakes that he has made, but that he was too short-sighted to perceive before he committed them. The truth is, we know not, the wisest of us, what a day may bring forth. My first contract ended in a blaze from a dormant spark in a coal brand that lay hid from luiman observation. Many of my other enterprises were frustrated by my frequent loss of eye-sight, and my consequent heavy ex- penses— a most grievous misfortune, it seemed KV. Ill) using, that he had not even a thought or a desire after celestial things. " O," says the pilgrim, " de- liver me from the muck-rake." " Amen," replied the interpreter. That prayer has got rusty, for it seems not to have been used much for many yeai's. But God in wisdom, and in his own way, turned my eyes aud thoughts from earth to heaven. After returning liome, I lay down upon a bed in much distress. The family all partook of tlieir supper, and my little daughter among the rest. I think 1 never saw her more playful and interesting than she was that day. After supper, she sat down in her little chair and reclined her head a little. Her mother, supposing her asleep, went and raised up her head, and, to our astonishment, death had already laid hold on her ^v^th an unyielding grasp. Her sparkling black eyes had already become set in their sockets, presenting a vacant glare. Every eftbrt in our power was made to bring her relief^ but she struggled a few moments with the grim uionster, and the spirit of my little Fanny wa.s re- leased from its cumbrous clay. The bird had flown from its cage to paradise, to return no more until the morning of the resurrection. She died in the lap of a neighbouring old Avoman, who came in during that solemn hour. I have often chided parents, and more especially fathers, for displaying so much Aveakness at the death and burial of a young child; but all the good reasons I had as- sigue T got up from my knees, mourning about the loss of my r22 TKIALS AND THIUMI'IIS IN TICIi child, and contemplating the great fortune 1 was soon to -realize. If the devil had suggested to me the idea of never trying to get religion, I should not have listened to him a moment; but he under- stands his subjects better than they do themselves, and can always adapt himself to suit their case. The next day my business called me to the A il- lage of Martinsburg, a distance of almost seventeen miles, the county seat of Berkley. The shock I re- ceived from the sudden death of my child seeinetl to have banished the pain and sickness with Avliich T was attacked while on my way to the Springs on Sunday morning ; but now I was seized with great pain in my right leg, so that I could not ride on horseback. My young brother-in-law, therefore, took me down in a carriage. After hobbling about and finishing my business, we started for home about sunset. But I was suddenly taken w ith such exquisite pain, that I was obliged to turn about be- fore I got out of the village, and return back to the hotel. There I remained for about one month, — being afflicted with exquisite pain in my leg, at- tended with chills and fever, until I was reduced to a mere skeleton, and my life by some despaired of. There is one singular providence that I would not pass over without making some remarks ; whether it be a mere accident or a special providence a here- after may determine. You recollect I told you that on the night of the death of my child, I got u])on my knees to pray before T retired to bed ; but it LIFK Of Q. W. HEXKV. 123 turned out, that instead of making a covenant with (Jod to seek his face then, I made an agi-eement with Satan to wait until after tlie contract was finished ; and as I was about to rise fi'om my knees, I liit tlie edge of my knee-pan upon the head of a nail that was raised up in tlie floor, which, although not worth noticing at the moment, was the prin- cipal cause of my long sickness in Martinsburg, by which I came very near losing my leg, if not ray life. And I can now look back and see the force of that ])assage of Scripture, and can apply it in truth to my case, from that day till now : " As an eagle stirretli up her nest, fluttereth over her young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketli them, beareth them on her wings : so the Lord alone did lead him, and there was no strange God with him." Deut. xxxii, 11,12. It is said by naturalists that the eagle builds her nest on the highest and most secluded cliff. She builds the foundation of lier nest with sharp thorns, lining it with a very soft raateiial ; and when the young are sufficiently feathered, in the opinion of the mother, to sail out from their nest, but they, not having confidence in their own wing, continue lazily in their soft nest, then, in the language of Scrip- ture, she stirreth up her nest, by taking all the soft lining from under her tender young and scattering it to the winds, and thus leaving them their choice to fly or die on a bed of thorns. The decision is soon made to venture out, while the paient eagle fluttereth over them, while she spreads her broad 124 TRIALS AND TKlUMi'HS IN THE wings, seemingly standing on the thin air, watching with the greatest care the uncertain movement of her young ; and when the strength of their wings is almost spent, fainting between despair and hope, with the velocity of lightning she darts beneath them and bears them up on her strong pinions. AVhen they have thus rested and gathered strength, another trial is made of the wing ; and so on, until they become perfect eagles in strength. So it was with your humble author. A fanciful imagination had pictured to me the soft bed of affluence and ease, and I was determined to have it before I set out to serve the Lord. But, glory to his holy name ! he now began to stir up my nest, but in a gradual manner. He had already taken away my idol child, to attract my attention and my affec- tions upwards. The parent, whose only child has crossed the briny deep, Avill often think of the departed one, and long to be with it. So my thoughts were drawn after my beloved little girl. I was now laid also upon that bed of sickness, and began to feel the thorns pricking me. My wife was immediately sent for, and she, with the hand of love and affection, endeavoured to smooth and soften my pillow. But it was in vain ; my bed was thorny. Not only did the stings of an awakened conscience, but also pain of body, and the trouble of worldly business afflict and perplex me. Now all my cher- ished hopes of a great fortune began to attach to themselves wings, and, as in the disasters of Job, LIKE OF U. W. UENin. 125 one servant quickly followed anotlier, bringing news of some sad misfortune and disappointment. It seemed the very elements had turned against me ; for the stream that supplied my engine with water was now nearly dry. This was a circumstance un- known before by the oldest citizens. A constant stream of only the size of a quarter of an inch would have supplied it night and day. During the month that I lay sick at Martinsburg, I made many promises to the Lord that I would set out to serve him ; but the adversary of ray soul was constantly engaged in striving to prevent me — telling me, Not now. The cares of business and pain of body all seemed to unite against me to crowd out and choke every good desire. O ! my dear reader, let me here solemnly and emphatically warn you, and in the name of God beseech you, to set out this moment to seek the Lord, with full purpose of heart, before the evil day draws near when you shall be laid upon a bed of languishing! You will then have enough to grapple with, without drinking the wormwood and the gall. " Seek the Lord while he may be found," and your bed of death shall " Be soft as downy pillows are, While on his breast you lean your head, And breathe your life out sweetly there." Having partially recovered, so that I could hobble across the room on a pair of crutches, I was carried back to the mill, which I found motionless, and ever} thing around wore a gloomy aspect. The ex- 126 TRIALS AXD THUMPHS /K TIIK cessive drought throughout tlie country had stopped nearly all my water-mills. Something was neces- sary to be done, to bring up the rear in my busi- ness, and secure, if possible, the back money wliich was already earned, and in the hands of the com- pany, but which was subject to forfeiture unless the job was completed. It was certain ruin to stop there, and it could be nothing worse to endeavour to finish. My promises to God were as if written on the snow. I clenched the muck-rake to gather up some of the scattered straws. I resolved to go to Baltimore, although I looked more like a candi- date for the grave-yard than for anj' other business. However, I met the company, and they agreed to join with me in supplying the residue of timber, promising to pay me for all I would supply, be it more or less. That night I stayed in Baltimore, and put up at Beltshoover's large hotel, a place where I had usually stopped. I was shown by the servant to my lodging-room. There I spent a most solemn night; and though I was not in very great pain, yet it seemed that none but death was to be my companion in the night. When I went to bed, I got the servant to fasten the bell of my room over my head, so that I could reach up my arm and ring it if I should have occasion, or rather the wire of my bell that passed from my room, through vari- ous walls of the house, into a lower room where the servant watched. Pulling that wire would ring a bell having the number of my room, and so di- l.IFK OF W. IIEXIiV. 127 rect the servant to the right place. But, thank God ! I survived the dead, though I believe I pray- ed in rather more earnest that night than I ever had before ; but I fear I prayed more for the pre- ser^'ation of my life than for the pardon of my sins. I now returned home again, being determined that even the elements should not prevail against me in stopping my mills. So I rigged a team and hauled about twenty hogsheads of water daily, for about six weeks. This, in addition to what I re- ceived by sinking a well, enabled me to keep mj' engine in motion, praying and expecting every day that the heavens would give us rain. Although, in this way, my water cost me five dollai-s a day, yet it was wisdom to obtain it so, under our circum- stances. So the company and myself, by bringing a large quantity of timber from North Carolina, and every other place where we could procure it, at almost any price, completed the contract early the next spring. I think it was in October that I set the mill in operation, driving everything I could before me. I had now regained my health, with the ex- ception that my right leg was shrunk and withered, from the upper joint of my thigh doAvn to my ankle. So I halted on my thigh, like Jacob, wlien he wrestled at the ford of Jabbok with the angel. Gen. xxxii. I was still listening to the advice of the adversary of ray soul, " Wait till a more convenient season, to give your lieart unto God." O ! how 128 TlilALri AND TlUr.MI'US IX TIIK true it is, that the Lord is h)ng-siifl'ering, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance. 2 Pet. iii, 9. Christmas had now arrived, and I was able to lay aside one of my crutches and again to mount my horse. Having business witli Colonel Colston, who had also been engaged in furnishing timber for the company, I went to see him. And perhaps it would not be uninteresting or out of place here, to give my northern reader a little account of my visit, and a short description of this distinguished family. The colonel was an heir of at least one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and was one of the Virginia " bloods," as he was termed. He was a noble-look- ing, free-liearted man, and, in short, he possessed every qualification of a gentleman. He had been a member of Congress several years. He lived in a large and ancient brick mansion, situated about a mile south of the Potomac river. Around this he owned about fifteen hundred acres of elegant lime- stone land, divided into several farms. The canal company had thrown a heavy dam across the river near him, where he had erected, about five years pre- vious, a flouring-mill and saw-mill. These, having cost about thirty-five thousand dollars, burned down the first week, the fire also consuming a large amount of wheat with them. At the time of my visit, he had just completed another similar mill on the same ground. This being Christmas-day, and the birthday of the colonel, tliey ha^l been accustomed, UFE OF G. W. URNltV. 129 for many years, to observe it as a family festival. I had often visited him before, and on that occasion he pressed me to dine with him, and remain all night. About four o'clock the rich banqueting table was spread, covered with the luxuries of life and the dainties of the season. His family consist- ed of a wife and five children, a family tutor, a young lady, who was a relative, and an old mother of about eighty, a relic of the Washington family. She was au own sister to Chief Justice Mai-shall, and a near coimexion of General Washington. After dinner, talking and mincing perhaps an hour and a half, bottles of verj' rich wine were produced, and a glass for each ; and while drinking, senti- ments or toasts were freely exchanged, in which the old lady and the colonel participated. This was a respectable family, and could boast of noble ances- tors. Before we arose from the table, the colonel related his experience for the last previous ten years, which w'as as follows : — He said that he was that day fifty-five yeai-s old. When he was forty-five he resolved to let go public offices and build the mill, as I have heretofore stated, get out of debt, and so arrange his property as to have no other care but to receive the revenue of the rents that it yielded him. The balance of his life, from fifty years old, he had resolved to dedicate to God, and enjoy the comfort of his family. " But alas!" said he, "how vain are all human calcula- tions ! From the very period T had set to be re- !) 130 TKIALS AND TIIIUMPHS IN THK lieved from the anxieties, cares, and troubles of this world, the revei-se wjis my lot. For," continued he, "I have had more trouble and pecuniary embar- rassments during the last five years, than all the rest of my life put together."' And I suppose it was true; for tlie constable and the sheriff were daily at his elbows, teasing him for money. The burning of his mill, the fall of property, and tlie depreciation of currency, had so embarrassed his possessions, and left him as poor a man .is the humble guest he was then entertaining. And here I learned a salutary lesson, viz., that it is not all gold that glitters, and that those are not always the richest that live in the greatest houses or own the largest farms. O, how mistaken is the judgment of this world concerning the things that make for our peace ! I can now truly say with the poet, " Give me Jesus — give me Jesus — and you may have all the world besides." The evening passed away pleasantly. The next day was the Sabbath, and the colonel being an Episcopalian, all bowed the knee around the family altar while he read a prayer, concluding with the " Lord's prayer," in which all the family joined. His negro slaves, of both sexes, were all set free fiom Christmas till New- Year. This is a custom throughout Virginia and Maryland. It is their annual jubilee. Those who are not religiously inclined, generally pass their time in frolicking, dancing, getting married, tfec. And so I left them. LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 131 in the full belief that the negroes enjoyed tlie greatest happiness, and the greatest slave on the plantation Avas tlie noble and generous-hearted colonel himself; that is, of the two great evils of slavery for the time being, tlie colonel was the most harassed. An honest man to be in debt without any thing to pay, is, as it has been said, like a cat being in hell without claws. I know how to pity him. These were fetters, however, that his own ambitious hand had placed upon his own freedom ; but not so with the poor negroes ; they were doomed to wear their chains perhaps imtil death should sign their release. It is a rare thing that the slave finds so kind a master iis Colonel C. Something like the family in which Uncle Tom and Aunt Chloe found a birthplace imtil the extravagance of Mi-. Shelby, the sure fore- runner of poverty, turned Uncle Tom out of his paradise, and he was doomed to run the gauntlet of hell, with one or two exceptions, until death signed his release. This picture of slavery, in all its phases, has been so perfectly portrayed before the eye of the public by Mrs. H. B. Stowe, that I will not daub the painting with my unskilful brush, but my soul says Amen to her sentiment. So I soon found my- self with my family at Kinderhook mills. So much for that visit. I think about this time I was almost as far from God as I ever was. Having regained my health, I was determined, in spite of everything, to make some money out of the job. When stern Justice 132 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN XIIE said, "Cut liim down; why cumbereth be the ground? Has he not been called, from time to time, both by general and special providences, to turn and seek the Lord ? Has he not mocked God with vain promises? Has he not, for more than thirty years, trampled under foot the prayers and tears of a pious mother, whose constant anxiety was that lier only child might become a Christian ? Has he not sinned against light and knowledge continually ? Why not number him with all the nations that forget God ?" — While this was the cry of Justice, Mercy cried, " O, spare him a little longer !" Glory to God ! It was because Jesus had not left the mercy-seat — had not yet ceased pleading my cause, showing his bleeding hands and side to the Father, praying that another eftbrt might be made for my salvation — that I am now the spared monument of his amazing mercy ! The Fatlier, looking upon his Anointed, granted the petition, and glory be to his holy name, "whose mercy endureth forever." And now the last blessed and effectual effort was, to drop a dark curtain before me and totally exclude me from the sight of all sublunary and transitory things. My sight began then, very gradually, to leave me, and that without the least pain. The next Sabbath, being New-Year, 1 dro\'e in my carriage to Hedgesville, a distance of about eleven miles, and heard the Rev. John A. Collins preach, at a quarterly meeting. He was the last LIFE OF U. W. UENKV. 133 man I ever saw in a pulpit. My desires were some- wliat awakened, under his preaching, to seek tlie Lord ; and before I returned home, I purcliased a large family Bible. I opened it, and by looking very close, was able to read one verse, and that, I think, was the last I ever read. I drove my horse within a mile of home, but my sight failed so fast, that my wife was unwilling to ride so any farther. But she not being acquainted with driving hei-self, we took the hoi-ses from the carriage and went home without it. This was the last time I ever attempted to drive. Soon after this, I had occasion to go to Baltimore. One of my workmen put a horse before my buggy to take me to Martinsburg, where I intended to take a stage. On the way, and about half the dis- tance, we were under the necessity of fording a large creek. As we arrived at the shore, the driver said he thought the creek had risen about two feet. I concluded that if it had not risen more than that, we should be able to ford it with safety. I coidd now see just well enough to discover the shape of the horse between me and the sun. So we plunged into the creek, but it had risen four or five feet in- stead of two, and we soon found ourselves in eight or ten feet water, and that running wild as a torrent. The horse, being checked, was unable to swim, and strangling, turned a perfect somerset; and as he came up with his head towards the buggy, he came very near pulling us under. We were now all float- 134 TRIALS AND TKIUMl'lIS IN Tllli ing down the stream, and it was death to jump out, as no man could stand the torrent, so that all hopes of life seemed, for a time, to he cut off. O, how horror and despair rushed upon my guilty soul at that perilous and solemn moment! I cried aloud for mercy, and as a kind Providence had so ordered it, a man, on a very large horse, came to our rescue ; my horse, in the meantime, having come in contact with some obstruction in the river, nobly held all at anchor. The man on the large horse came in to our relief, and set us safely on terra-fir ma, wliile the horse was got loose from the buggy and swam ashore, leaving the buggy there. " Well," says the reader, " did you not fiill on your face and give thanks to that invisible Hand that snatched you from a watery grave, and as a bi-and from a burning hell ?" With shame and confusion of face, I must tell you, that my proud heart would not suffer me to bow the knee, even under those solemn circumstances. Had no one been present but myself, I should probably have got down on my knees and expressed my deep-felt gratitude to my Deliverer. I owed my de- liverance to the mercy of God. But, like Napoleon, unacquainted with retreat, I went up the creek about five miles, and crossed it on a bridge, and made my way to Baltimore. My principal business was to obtain relief for my eyes. I visited several eminent physicians, but obtained no relief, and but Httle encouragement from them. But hope still LIKE OF G. W. HENRY. 135 lingered in my lieart, cheering me witli the belief that I should eventually obtain my sight, and so I returned home again. About this time the money of the company, issued from the city loan, which I was bound to take in payment for my timber, depreciated one-half in value. There was at this time, too, probably two millions of dollars of it in circulation, so that it was difficult to pay a debt of one dollar with two. As continental times had come again throughout the country, my prospects for making money on that job received a fatal stab. My only hope now was, that the company would give me my retain pei'centage, which at that time was considerable. The man of whom I bought the land, refusing to take the rail- road money, closed up liis mortgage, and forced all to sheriff sale ; and as there was no one who had current money to buy, the mills, land and all, brought only one thousand dollars. Here was a tremendous sacrifice. I now had nothing else to do but to pay off my men, gather up my family and goods, and return to Pennsylvania. I intended to spend the summer in search of a physician that would be able to restore to me my sight. This was in the spring of 1842. I intended also to settle up my business in the three States as fast as possible. I had at this time probably unsettled business with various corporations and individuals, to the amount of twenty-five thousand dollars, and most of it in a perplexed and embarrassed situation. 130 TKIALS AMU TIOLMI-HS IN THE The I'ailroad company unmercifully refused to give me my retain percentage, unless compelled by a course of law. This they very well knew I was un- prepared to do. For an individual to contend in law with corporations, is like approaching a hornet's nest, and is generally vain, however just the claim may be. And I here give it as my opinion, that in general, at least, they are a curse to the country ; that they are without character or responsibility. Taking this general view of my business, in connex- ion Avith my infirmity, I resolved to give to my creditoi-s a schedule of all my debts and ci-edits the world over, and let them make the best of them they could for themselves. My debts amounted to a little over eight thousand dollars, and the amount due me about eighteen thousand, leaving a balance in my favour, if all could be collected, of about ten thousand dollai-s. This is probably about the way I stand as to this world's affairs. The greater part of what is due me, being in the hands of rotten corporations, I fear there will not be half enough collected, even to pay up my debts. " How vain are all things liere below, How false and yet how fair ! Each pleasure hath its poison too, And every sweet a snare." Dear reader, have you any treasure in heaven? Do you feel daily an earnest of that blood-bought inheritance ? Have you the S]Mrit bearing witness with your spirit that you are adopted into the family LIFE OF (.:. W. UENKV. 137 of God ? Pause one moment, and ask yourself this solemn and important question. If the answer is in the negative, I care not how many acres you call your own, or how many honours of this world you enjoy, unless you " can read your title clear" to that heavenly inheritance, let me tell you that you are a poor man, blind and naked. By this time I was totally eclipsed, having coun- selled with some of the most eminent physicians, without any encouragement or prospect of the re- covery of my sight. CHAPTER IX. I THINK it was ill the month of May that I spent a Sabbath in Martinsburg, and at the place where I attended meeting there was quite a revival of reli- gion among the Methodists and Lutherans. The text in the morning was, " Awake, thou sleeper." Every word seemed to be directed to me, and awakened the sleeping energies of my soul. I re- turned to the hotel where before I had passed through that month of severe illness, entered the same chamber, and there in my solitude made a solcnm covenant with Almighty God that I would, from that moinent, set out to seek his face and fa- vour ; and that if I died without mercy or pardon, death should find me in the pursuit of it. I was 138 TRIALS ANU TRIUMl'HS IN TIIK now in good earnest, and tliink that, for the first time in' my life, I was fully resolved to get religion. I shall remember that vow in eternity. I felt as rf it were almost presumptuous to seek the favour of that God whose mercies I had abused ever since I had reached the years of accountability. There was also to be a meeting in the evening, and an invita- tion was to be given for mourners to present them- selves at the altar of prayer. Now I had gained tiie victory over the devil on the start, and he knew well that my mind was irrevocably made up to seek the Lord, and I lieard no more suggestions to pro- crastinate the day of i-epentance, neither would I listen to any. I was now as fully bent, and in as good earnest to obtain a heavenly treasure, as I ever ■was before after earthly treasures. He therefore took a new device, which Avas, as I discovered after I was converted, to set me to earning lieaven by my prayers and tears. He endeavoured to make me believe that I knew all about the plan of salvation, and that better than one-half the preachers could tell me, and that I had talent sufficient to make a first-rate prayer for a new beginner. When even- ing came, I went to the meeting, with the plan already made up in my mind how to proceed. I intended to go to work in great earnest, expecting, when I had prayed to a certain extent, to come out shouting and happy. Accordingly, when the preaching was over and mourners were invited for- ward, I was the first to lead the ^\ny, and several LIFE OK G. W. HEXRV. 139 otiiei-s followed. I got down on my knees and be- gan to pray with all my miglit. I felt that I was on dangerous ground. The avenger of blood seemed at my heels. I wept, mourned, and begged for life, eternal life. The minister came and spoke to me, but I did not listen to what he said, supposing I knew quite as much about the way of salvation as he did. The meeting closed about ten o'clock, and an ap- pointment was given out for a prayer-meeting at the same place, about sunrise the next moniing. I re- turned home to my room, and prayed and wrestled much during the night. The next morning, like weeping Mary, I was among the first at the church. As meeting opened, I began to pray audibly and fervently, but returned to the hotel, feeling the load of my sins growing heavier. My dear reader, whoever you are, let us pause here a moment, and consider the work you are reading. It is not a sermon ; not a production clothed in the habiliments of literature, but it is the history and experience of a poor sinner, brought by the mercy of God to see his danger and seek salva- tion. In the preface of this work, I exhorted you to eschew the evil and embrace the good, if per- chance you should find any in such a life of erroi-s. And in setting forth to my various readers both wisdom and folly, I am aware that I subject myself to the sneere and ridicule of the proud and scornful wisdomite of this world. And to the cold, dead 140 TRIALS AND TIUUMPHS IN THE Pharisee and formalist, that part which has most of Christ hi it will doubtless be a stumbling-block, and will, perhaps, appear weakness and folly. " When I was a child, I spake as a child, I thought as a child : but when I became a man, I put away childish things." 1 Cor. xiii, 11. I have set forth the follies and vanities of my youth, as well as the mistakes of my riper years ; and so, in my Christian experience, you will find I have made many crooked paths, like a lone wanderer in a dark night, seeking for a lost home. When the sun has risen and dis- l)elled the darkness of the night, he can then look back and see what a zig-zag course he has pursued, and that, perhaps, near some precipice or deep cavern, where he might have been dashed to pieces, or found a watery grave. How will such a one re- joice, when he considers the hairbreadth escapes he has made! How will he rejoice when he finds himself resting safely in the bosom of those he loves. Truly sa3's the wise man, " The light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun." If a transition fi-om a state of darkness to a state of light be so desirable and important — if it made blind Bai'timeus leap for joy, when he beheld the light of the natural sun, displaying the beauties of this world; would not that soul have infinitely greater reason to leap for joy, to have the sun of righteousness arise, with healing in his wings, and to have the rays of divine knowledge beaming forth from the Father of lights, into the sinner's dark un- LIFE OF G. \V. HENRY. 141 ilerstantling ! Although I never expect, like Bar- timeus, to behold the beauties of nature, or the face of mortal man, even that of niy own dear wife and children, yet I can say, like one of old, " one thing I know, that, whereas I was blind, now I see." But let us no% return to the hotel, where we returned from the morning i^rayer-meeting. I now ate my breakfast, well knowing the whisper- ings and remarks that were made about me by my associates, who knew not God, and desired not the knowledge of his ways. I then got ready aq^ made uiy way to Pennsylvania, apprehensive of what reception I should meet with among some of my former acquaintances, if I made much ado about religion ; not, perhaps, that they would speak reproachfully of religion, provided it met their notions of consistency and propriety. But I had an adversary to face, one that will never cease to tempt and allure from the path of rectitude and safety. I have often compared his devices and allurements to the whippowil, in his management with him who is a stranger to his wiles. If, in your strolls tlirough the mountains or hills, you approach her nest, you will see her all at once, a few feet before you, begin to pitch heels over head, as if a wing and a leg had been broken by a fowler. If you follow her in her lofty tumbhngs, for a considerable distance at a time, thinking, at every step, you would seize her, thus she would lead you on, until she had drawn you sufficiently far 142 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE fi-oni her nest, when slie would suddenly spread her wing and sail oft', leaving you to laugii at your own folly. Having learned her devices, you would not be deluded by her again ; neither could the grand advei-sary so easily take me the second time, by the same wiles. He was well aware Aat he could not induce me to give up the race. At a certain time, when Bonaparte invaded Rus- sia, after he and his army had crossed a large river, lie ordered every bridge, boat, or floating plank to be swept oft", to prevent a retreat of him- self or his men. It Avas tlierefore death or victory with them. So it was with me. I had swept oft" every bridge and plank, upon which the devil had so often and so very generously taken me back into his own dominions. But thanks be to our Lord Jesus Christ, who gave me this gi'eat victory of decision ! To be thus decided, is half the battle. As the whippowil allured me from her nest, so the enemy of my soul endeavoured to turn my eye of faith from the cross of Christ, and set me to work on the veiy same pi-inciple upon which I went to work to do a heavy contract. He told me, that the harder I laboured the sooner I should earn salvation. Instead of making me feel it to be a cross, heavy to be borne, and as being very humili- ating, he began to set the springs of spiritual pride in motion, and whispered to me, the first night, that I could pray a great deal better than any of the mourners that came out with me. That night LIFE OF O. W. HENRV. 143 also the bar-keeper, one of his agents, said that he had told one of his comrades that I knew much more about getting religion than those that were talking to me. To that my own proud heart wil- lingly assented. And the next day, going home, I had another very active agent of his to drive for me. And, moreover, I think I rather courted some compliments from him, relative to the j^erformances of the evening and morning previous. I prayed audibly, in his presence, hefore I went to bed. "Captain," said he, "you made a first-rate prayer last night." lie also seemed to admire the ear- nestness I manifested. I then joined with him, rather ridiculing the ignorance of some j^eople in trying to get religion, and so I went on till conviction had nearly left me. However, I could not be per- suaded by men or devils that I had religion, until I knew for myself tliat I enjoyed it. I tarried at home for about ten days, did a certain amount of praying both night and day, and attended class- meeting in Greencastle. I believe there, for the first time, I made my determination known to them, and requested their prayei's. About this time I had business that called me to the city of Washington. I went there with my brother-in-law, from Indiana. We took lodgings at a boarding-house on Pennsylvania Avenue. In the morning, after breakfast, while my friend went out for two or three houi's on business, 1 lay down ujion my bod, after offering uyi a prayer to God. I 144 TRIALS AND TRirMPIlS IN THE fell asleep and saw a vision, or had a dream, as fol- lows : I thought I had come to my sight. I looked around the room, which seemed filled with a very bright and unnatural halo of light. The first tiling I did, or thought I did, was to raise my hand be- fore my eyes to prove whether it was a dream, or whether I had really been brought to my sight. I thought I saw my hand plainly ; but to put it be- yond doubt that it was not a dream, I thought I looked around the room again, and it appeared to be filled with heavenly light. I discovered the car- pet, chairs, and other furniture in the room, and was fully convinced that I was in the city of Wash- ington, and had been brought to my sight. But that I might have still further proof, I thought I went and raised up the front window of my room, cast my eye to one end of the avenue, and then to the other, and saw the capitol, while the negroes, carriages, and all, were passing lively before me, so that every doubt was put to flight. I did not seem to feel much joy or gratification in beholding the things of time and sense, for my whole soul was ab- sorbed in the desire for spiritual light. I thought I then knelt down in the middle of the floor, and fer- vently prayed to God tliat this temporal sight might be the harbinger of spiritual light. While in this devotional exercise I awoke, and found my- self in temporal and spiritual blindness and dark- ness. Then I think I began for the first time to have a LlfE OF t;. \V. llEMiV. 145 taste of tlie joys of the upper world ; but it was a mere taste in comparison to tlie rich feasts of which I have been made the happy partaker since. I be- lieved then as I do now, that it was a crumb from my Master's table, which served to increase my faith, and encourage my soul on its pilgrimage to Canaan. Before I left the city I called on Dr. Buel, a cel- ebrated physician of that place, who gave me little or no encouragement of ever receiving my sight. So I returned home again to Pennsylvania, and then for three or four months I was almost constantly travelling from place to place, trying to settle up my business. This perplexed my mind much, and crowded out many ardent desires for heaven. I had dealings with those who made this world their god, and abundance of money their heaven. But thanks be to God I who bore up my head above the deep waters and dashing waves. My business now led me to the city of Baltimore. I had for my guide a very wild but pleasant young man, about twenty years of age, a son of Dr. Boggs. He had just emerged from college, and his head scarcely entertained one serious thought ; but, God be praised ! he has since been sprinkled unto pardon and sanctification by the atoning blood of Jesus, and has become a Methodist preacher. We re- mained in Baltimore I think about ten days, during- which time I was engaged in the daytime in settling with the railroad company; and as there were 10 140 TRIALS AAD TIUUiU'HS IN THE fourteen or fifteen large Metliodist churclies, if I mistake not, in the city of Baltimore, I had no diflS- culty, at any time, to find some kind of a Metliodist meeting. I went one night to a love-feast, in a part of the city called Old Town. I was waited on by a young boy, a son of the widow with whom we boarded — for a Methodist meeting would have been a purgatory at that time to my friend Boggs. At the love-feast there were present probably two hun- dred membei-s. I heard one and another in quick succession give in their testimony, telling exactly the day and the hour when Crod for Christ's sake forgave all their sins : some of them dating their experience back more than fifty yeai-s — others from that down to a very few days previous — most of them telling how happy they then felt, and expressing the lively hope they had of ere long enjoying that rest that remains for the people of God. I now began to feel the need of a Saviour more than I had ever before done, and I arose and told them that I had a different story to tell them from any I had heard that evening — I could not say that I ever had my sins forgiven — for I then felt them intolerable to bear, and desired all their prayers for me. It was not long before a brother came to me and invited me to come and kneel down at the altar, and the brethren would pray for me, saying that perhaps God would receive me into his kingdom that night; so I soon found myself kneeling at the altar, where the most fervent prayers UFE OF U. W. HENRY. 147 were put up to the sinner's Friend. But alas ! I was not yet brought out of mj self, or from self- righteousness. I arose from ray knees and went home, with a sorrowful countenance. I told the brethren I felt no relief, but that I believed God would before long pardon my sins — still resting under that dangerous delusion, that it would require a great many more j^rayei-s, and a flood more of tears, and more penance, before such a sinner, as I felt myself to be, would be entitled to an interest in Christ. I was building a tower like that of Babel, whose top should reach to heaven. The next Saturday night I went to street Church to a prayer-meeting. I had been there be- fore, and my case had been made known to them. The brethren prayed over me and for me, but seemingly to no eflect. The next day was to be comnmnion, and I went home with the preacher that night, with whom I had had some acquaintance a few years before in Pennsylvania. Morning came, and I went to church vdth him. I wept and mourned during preaching; I felt that I was an awful sinner ; and when the brethren were invited to commune, one came to me and invited me also. I was at first almost horror-stricken at the idea of such a sinner, as I felt myself, partaking of those holy symbols, and I refused ; but being overper- suaded by old professors, I concluded that they must know the way better than I, and so I yielded, asking God to lay not the sin to my charge, if it was a sin. 148 TKIALS ANU XKIUMl'IIS IN THE Thus for the first time I partook, with a trembling hand and a fearful heart, of the sujjper of our Lord. O, what an advantage the adversary of my soul took on this occasion to tempt and try me I — telling me that if I had prayed long enough, as I was doing, I might have been blessed, but now I had eaten and drunk damnation to my soul ! I went home to my boarding-house, awfully fearing it was true, while the word reprobate rung like a death-knell in my ears. I was now labouring under despair, mingled with a very faint hope. I arose about midnight, felt round the room and found the Bible, and took it in my hands, solemnly and fervently praying God that he would show me some relief on the pages, that I might then open and have read to me in the morning. I then opened the Bible and laid a mark in it, and in the morning I requested my friend Boggs to read to me the chapter I had laid the mark on as the Bible lay open. To my astonishment he read the eleventh chapter of first Corinthians, which treated on the very subject that caused addi- tional distress to my soul — feeling that I had eaten and drunk unworthily, not discerning the Lord's body. Whether it was a mere matter of accident, or a special providence, I am unable to say ; but I do not know that I received any comfort in reading the chapter, not having a spiritual discernment of what I read. If I received any strength from it, it was from the singular circumstance of turning to that particular passage. LIFK OF C. W. HEXRV. 149 I was now in horrible douLt. I went to prayer- meeting Monday niglit and tried to pray, but I was as cold and unfeeling as a heathen philosopher. The impression was now pretty well established on my mind that I had either sinned away the day of grace, or (as I was now rather inclined to Calvinistic principles) that I was quite likely a reprobate ; all feeling or desire to seek religion or utter a prayer seemed to be fled, and I seemed like Ephraim, left to myself : this was truly a horrible state of mind. Thus I remained till the next day in the afternoon. Nature being exhausted I lay down upon my bed and fell asleep, and again I saw a vision, or dreamed that I could see, and looking around the room it seemed to be filled with unusual light of the same appearance that I saw at Washing-ton. I then held the same soliloqu}-, doubting whether it w-as a dream or in truth a restoration of my sight ; but to remove all doubt on the subject, I brought my hand before my eyes and thought I could see it. The thought then recurred to me of my dream or disappointment at Washington, and to be doubly sure I looked around the room again, which appeared to be full of bright glory, discovering the furniture to my view in every particular. The idea then arose in my mind that I was in Baltimore, and to satisfy mvself more fully of the fact, I thought I raised my front window. There I viewed the stores, and the rail- road cars moving on — satisfied myself of what street I was on, and at the same time it occurred to 150 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE me that this identical circumstance was presented to fne in a dream at Washington. But now all doubts were removed. I believed that I was awake, and that I was really restored to sight. I again knelt down in the middle of the floor, as I thought, without any seeming joy at being restored to sight, and prayed most fervently that this might be a token that God had not left me entirely, and that the Sun of righteousness might yet arise upon me to go down no more forever. In this attitude of devo- tion I opened my eyelids on total darkness ; but I know that I received another crumb from the table of the Lord ; I felt a degree of heavenly joy in my soul, and fully believed that it was a token fi-om the Lord that I had not entirely sinned away the day of grace. I was now able to exercise considerable faith, and for once had got the victory over the accuser of the brethren that had been charging me with desecrating the holy sacrament, and with being a reprobate, &c. I was now ready to return to Pennsylvania. Soon after my return home I went to a quarterly meeting that was held in Waynesburg, Franklin County. Saturday evening there was a love-feast held in the church. I had been praying for more conviction — that God would send his arrows into my soul, that I might feel the stings of an awakened conscience, and be shown the very worst of my de- ceitful and corrupt heart. I had been in the love- feast but a little while when I felt as much pain as LIFE OF li. W. IIKN'UV. 151 soul and body both could endure. The devil whis- pered to me that it was the cholera morbus — but it was a new disease to me. A mourner's bench was presented, and I came forward with some others. I groaned and begged for mercy, while hot and bitter tears were following each other in quick suc- cession down my cheeks. Others around me were converted and went off shouting, some perhaps the first night tliey came forward. As for me, I had been weeping between the porch and the altar for many long weeks. I went home under deeper con- viction perhaps than ever, rather believing that I had received an answer to my prayer that the Lord would send me deeper conviction. About this time there was an idea came into my head that I had better go to some other Church than the Methodist — that I was perhaps too much preju- diced in favour of that Church ; and my prayer was then, " Lord, send me relief anywhere or in any man- ner— only remove this grievous load of sin." So I thought I would make a trial at the Presbyterian Church awhile. Everything was there done up with decency and in order, which is well-pleasing in the sight of the Lord. Ceremonies are very good, and doubtless orthodox ; but Christians sometimes differ in their notions of decency and order in spiritual thuigs. No doubt there was a great difference of opinion on this subject amongst the multitude that were gathered together on the day of Pentecost, when the Holy Ghost came upon them like a mighty 152 rniALS and triumphs in the rusliing wind — for so is every one that is bom of the Spirit, John iii, 8 — when there were tliree thousand converted in one day. A certain portion of the assembly — Jews — professors of religion too, pro- nounced it disorderly and indecent, charging the converts with being drunk ; and no doubt these had that appearance to them that were without spiritual discernment. We see sometliing of it in these later days — some that are born into the kingdom, even at the age of fifty years, will leap and jump like the pilgrim that Bunyan describes : after he had passed through the wicket-gate and began to climb the hill, and while he stood and gazed upon the cross, beholding the heavenly victim that hung bleeding for him, his burden rolled off into the sepulchre, to be remembered no more against him ; lie then took three leaps towards the celestial city, and went on his way rejoicing. Some, when they are con- verted, are laid prostrate on tlie floor; othei-s are laughing, and have a new song put into their mouths, and shout Glory ! glory ! and it is as natural for a young convert to give God the glory as it is for a new-born babe to desire the breast. I mean now that man that God has spoken peace to — not like the man that Mr. Whitefield speaks of as meeting him in the street in London, who staggered up to him and addressed him very affectionately after this manner : " Brothei' Whitefield, I am glad to see you, for you are the very man that converted my soul at such a meeting." "Ah," saj's Whitefield, LIFE OF G. W. HENKV. 153 you look like some of my work ! If God liad con- verted you, you would not now be staggering under the influence of rum." Alas ! I awfully fear that many have had peace spoken to them by their preacher when God has not spoken the life-giving word, and are rocked to sleep in the Church in a state of carnal security. May God awaken the sleeping reader ere he sleeps the sleep of eternal death 1 Yes ; no doubt many of the Jews were highly displeased at the order of things when tliree thousand new bottles were filled with new wine from the kingdom at once. Every man that is in Christ Jesus is a new creature ; and who will say that it was out of order or indecent, although one-half of that number had staggered and fiiUen, and the other half had been shouting glory in every language ? Do you think, reader, that God was not pleased with liis own work on that occasion ? Tliat was my no- tion of decency and order then, and it has been con- firmed by experience since. I am wilhng to let God work in his own "mysterious way, his wonders to perform." I would not wish to be understood that there are none born into the kingdom without all these outward demonstrations. O no! some he approaches in the still small voice, and they are melted into tenderness, and love, and joy, and peace. But to return to the chain of my own ex- perience. I found no relief in the Presbyterian Church, but began to feel less conviction, and was told more than 154 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE once, by professoi's of religion, that I had really got religion^ — assigning, as the reason for the opinion, that I did not feel the weight of guilt and sin as I had a few days previous, saying that the difficulty with me was that I would not acknowledge it. I thank God for early impressions, and for lia\'ing been reared by one that believed in that religion that is attended with joy in the Holy Ghost, and that is manifested with power from on high. Is not this a rock on which thousands have split? When the Holy Ghost has ceased for a time to re- prove them of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment, (which is not religion, but only a trial of their faith,) they settle down under this sickening calm. But all their arguments to convince me that I had got religion were but as chaft" to me. I wanted to feel some of the joy and happiness that I had heard my old mother so often speak of and seemingly mani- fest, as well as many other Christian witnesses, and of that Comforter that the Bible speaks so much of. About this time I was in Greencastle, Pa., at a hotel where I had frequently boarded. In the after- noon I retired to ray room to obtain sleep. After falling asleep, I dreamed I saw the same vision precisely which I had seen before in Washington and in Baltimore. I dreamed I saw that same glorious and unnatural light filling the room, and, strange as it may appear, I thought I had been brought to my sight ; and, to prove the fact, I again brought my hand before my face, and again held LIFE OF G. W. IIEXRV. 155 the same soliloquy, recalling to my mind the two former dreams as clearly and as distinctly as if I had really been awake. But to put the case be- yond all doubt, I looked minutely at the particular kind of calico of which the bed-quilt was made, as well as at the furniture and the room, beliering fully that I was in Greencastle ; and to be still more sure, if possible, I raised the window, as in the other places, and beheld the boys playing in the streets, and recognised them. I then knelt, as I thought that I had been brought to sight, and, while praying fen-ently for spiritual light, my eyes opened again, as before, on darkness. I had another crumb fi-om my Master's table, and felt some of the joys of the upper world. # I now began to look forward to a camp-meeting that was appointed to take place on the fifth of August, by the Metliodists, about two miles and a half from my father-in-law's : here I hoped to find relief. Having witnessed the power of God at camj)- meeting-s in my early days, and having heard so many witnesses date their convei-sion and happy de- liverance from the dominion of the power of dark- ness at such meetings, I had at this time faith to believe that God would bless me there. Accord- ingly, I went at the beginning of the meeting. The first two days were very rainy, and the Methodists did not seem to get fairly into the stream. The third day came, and I began to feel that time was precious and swiftly passing away, and that unless I 156 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE got relief at that camp-meeting, I slioiild be iire- trievably lost. At evening, before the horn sounded for preach- ing, there was a prayer-meeting in one of the tents, where some were shouting glory, others mourning as the dove and chattering as the swallow, while many voices, male and female, were mingled in fer- vent prayer for the mourning souls. I was knelt at the bench, wrestling for eternal life. Now the horn sounds for preacliing. A suggestion came to me that there was too much excitement there for me, and I had heard Christians tell of getting religion alone under some tree in the woods ; so I took the little boy that was my guide, and directed him to lead me a considerable distance down into the woods. Now, it was a rainy, dark, and dismal night ; and when we arrived at a place a considerable dis- tance from the camp-ground, Avhere I supposed I should be unmolested by the footsteps of any human being, and where the eye of God only was upon me, there I resolved to wrestle, like Jacob, until he should bless me. It was with some difficulty that I could persuade my little boy to go away and leave me in that dark and lonesome spot ; but, as he left me, I charged him to say nothing to any one where I was. I then knelt at the foot of a tree, the cold rain pattering upon me, and chilling me to the vitals. My tongue seemed to be almost silent and lifeless ; I could scarcely utter a word that could be construed LIFE OF G. VV. HENKY. 157 into a prayer ; and, instead of its being a retired and quiet spot, it seemed that all the devils about the camp-ground Avere sent that way to disturb me — cursing, swearing, and blackguarding, and occasion- ally throwing sticks at me, but none cam^up to harm me. So I remained in this doleful situ!^jon until after preaching, when my little boy came and led me back to the camp. It being so rainy, I think they had no prayer-meeting after preaching, and I went home that night without feeling any relief. The next day and evening there was preaching ; after the sermon closed, at eight or nine o'clock in the evening, mom-ners Avere invited to come forward. Now, I had got Calvinistic reprobation nearly dis- posed of, and my prayer before I went out to the^ bench was, that God, by some display of Wr power, would convince me that he had not left me to myself. I went forward deliberately, but with awful solemnity, and knelt down, feeling that I was hanging by a slender thread over the gulf of dark despair. O ! how indescribable were my feelings at that time ! But I had not been there more than two or three minutes before a sudden trembling, or a spasm, seized me, and I was laid prostrate on my back, as you would lay over an infant. The brethren would often tell me to exercise faith, and to believe the promises of God, which I thought I had a full belief of, and I have since discovered that I had ; but it was not a saving belief — it y< as a mere historical faith. 158 TKIALS AND TKIUMl'HS IK THE While I lay thus upon my back the devil introduc- ed to me Unitaiianism, and upon that I undertook to exercise my faith. I would direct my mind to the Saviour kneeling in the garden — follow him to Pilat^Pfcall — then to the top of Calvary — view him n^d to the cross — thence to the tomb of Joseph of Arimathea — witness his resurrection and ascen- sion to the skies, and, just as he was about to enter the upper regions, there would seem to be something like a meteor flash over the sky at the place where he entered. At this juncture of the case I would be thrown into spasms, dreadfully convulsed and cramped. Now, the great trouble with me was to get the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost united in one. I would get my eye upon the Saviour in one place, God sitting upon his throne as an earthly potentate, and the Holy Ghost as something so intangible, so to speak, that I could not get them fixed together so as to make them but one God. In this position I lay in silent but sensible invocation for perhaps two hours, being fully resolved if there was any such thing as my exercising faith that I would do it that night. The devil made me believe I had liit on the right plan, and that I was perfectly orthodox, and that if I could only manage to unite the Trinity into one tangible fonn, I should gain my desired object. So soon as I was relieved from the convulsions of my body, I would begin with the Saviour at Geth- semane, and follow him step by step until his ascen- sion into heaven ; then that same flash would vividly LIFK OF U. W. UENKY. 159 display itself, and that instant I would be thrown into cramp convulsions. Thus I was bufteted with Arianisni, until the brethren took me into the tent perfectly sensible of my situation, being convinced that now some other plan must be tried, a^that it was in vain for me to attempt to unite the ir^^^ri- ous Three in One. ' So, retiring to bed nearly worn out with exhaust- ion, I fell asleep. The next day I went home and tried to gather up a little rest, determined to make another effort that night for heaven. Between simdown and dark I mounted my horse, vnth. my little boy on behind me, to make my way to meet- ing. It thundered and lightened very hard on our way thither. Just before we turned down to the camp I saw a flash of lightning as plainly as ever I saw one in my life. You will not forget, reader, that your author was all this time totally blind. I spoke to my boy and asked him if that was not an extraordinary flash of lightning ? He replied, " Did you see it ?" I told him I did. He then asked me if I saw that one that had flashed that moment with equal glare. I told him I did not. Now, this strengthened my faith. I believed it to be ominous of something good ; so I entered the' camp with a pretty good hope that I should soon be blessed. It being very rainy, there was no mourner's bench set out. I went into a prayer-meeting in a tent ad- joining the one where I lodged. I tried to pray, and seemed to have more Uberty in prayer than 160 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE usual ; and before I left tlie tent, at twelve o'clock, I began to feel the cla)^-star rising in my soul. I went into my lodging, which was literally filled, with the exception of a space large enough for me to lie d|wn between a hardened old sinner and one of brethren. I committed my soul to God in prayer, and laid down, feeling a little hghter than I did the night before when I laid down. All, I believe, were asleep, with the exception of an elderly maiden sister, by the name of Catharine Acre ; she was bowed down with the rickets from her youth; her moral as well as her physical features had ever been to me as a root out of dry ground, for, like every other sinner, I saw no beauty in deep, fervent piety, no more than I did in her hunchback, I had been for months previous travelling through Virginia, Washington City, Baltimore, and other places, running after great preachers, and found no relief. Little did I think that I was to be convert- ed under a sermon of less than five minutes in length from aunt Kitty ; but I do believe that God kept her awake that night to preach to me, for it is written : " He has chosen the weak things of this world to confound the wisdom of the wise, and things that are base and despised hath God chosen to bring to naught things that are ;" giving for a reason, " that no flesh or minister should glory in his presence." She then began to talk about the simplicity of saving faith, and what an easy thing it was to lay LIFE OF G. W. IIENKY. 161 hold of the Saviour, if we could but come down as a little child in asking a parent for bread. I then be- gan to renew some of the dealings of the Lord with me. I began back at the Sabbath that he turnetl me back when on my way to Berkley Springs, and then his taking my idol child the same day — then my month's sickness in Martinsburg — the scattering of my proi>erty to the four winds — my rescue from a waterj- grave — my three singular visions at Washington, Baltimore, and Greencastle, and the flash of lightning I had seen the night be- fore. All these convincev his converted l>rother, like 190 TRIALI. AND THIIMI'IIS IN THE an echo ; and the other, remembering tliat his mis- sionary had told him tliat the word amen was trans- mitted alike in all languages, exclaimed, " Amen !" " Amen !" rejoined the other — and thus they shouted " Hallelujah " and " Amen," to the praise of Him who shall have " the heathen for his inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for a possession." O, my brethren, open your eyes, and look forward to that day to which Enoch, the first of all the prophets, and John, the last of all the apostles, direct our faith ; when the great Shepherd shall gather together, in one fold, some of all nations and of all ages : and then shall all speak one language, and sing the song of Moses and the Lamb. " Sweet glories rush upon my sight, And charm my wondering eyes ; The regions of immortal light, The beauties of the skies ! " All hail ! ye fair celestial shores, Ye lands of endless day ; Swift on my view your prospect pours, And drives my griefs away. " Short is the passage — short the space Between my home and me ; There ! there behold the radiant place- How near the mansions be ! "Immortal wonders! boundless things In those dear worlds appear ! Prepare me, Lord, to stretch my wings, And in those glories share." I.IKE OF (;. W, HEXRV. 101 CHAPTER XII. My father-in-law being at tliis time brought upon his beil of death, prevented our contemplated visit to the north; and my wife and I remained with him during a painful sickness, until the 26th of December, which day closed his earthly career, he being about seventy years of age. Long shall I re- member that solemn and impressive scene when the family were weeping around his death-couch, al- though I could not see. The death-rattle — the faint flickering of the expiring breath — the fluttering of the spirit to free itself from its earthly entangle- ments, half desirous, half reluctant to leave its dilap- idated tenement of clay and soar away to its native skies — the impressions which tliese made can never be eflfaced fiom my memory. ]3ut " Why start at Death ? where is he ? Death arrived Is past ; not come, or gone, he's never here, Kre hope, sensation fails ; black-boding man Receives, not suffers, Death's tremendous blow. The knell, the shroud, the mattock, and the grave; The deep damp vault, the darkness and the worm ; These are the bugbears of a winter's eve. The terrors of the living, not the dead. Imagination's fool, and error's wretch, Man makes a death which nature never made ; Then on the point of his own fancy falls, Xnil feels a thousand deaths in fearing one.'' And to continue Dr. Young's heaven-inspired re- flections on this subject, I beg leave to add, and wouKl im])re.«s it on my reader's miml. that — 192 TRIALS AX» THU MIMIS IN TIIK " Life makes tlie soul depeiiUeiit on the iliist ; Death gives her wings to mount above the spheres. Thro* chinks, styled organs, dim life peeps at light ; Death bursts th' involving cloud, and all is day ; All eye, all ear, the disembodied power. Death has feign'd evils nature shall not feel ; Life, ills substantial, wisdom cannot shun. Is not the mighty mind, that son of heaven, By tyrant Life dethroned, imprison'd, pain'd ? By Death enlarged, ennobled, deified? Death but entombs the body. Life the soul. " ' Is Death then guiltless '? how he marks his way With dreadful waste of what deserves to shine ! Art, genius, fortune, elevated power ; With various lustres these light up the world, Which Death puts out and darkens human race.' " I grant, Lorenzo, this indictment just ; The sage, peer, potentate, king, conqueror ! Death humbles these ; more barbarous Life the man. Life is the triumph of our mould'ring clay ; Death, of the spirit infinite, divine! Death has no dread but what frail Life imparts : Nor Life true joy but what kind Death impro^•l's. No bliss to boast, till Death can give Far greater, Life's a debtor to the grave ; Dark lattice ! letting in eternal day ! " Lorenzo, blush at fondness for a life Which sends celestial souls on errands vile. To cater for the sense, and serve at boards AVhere every ranger of the wilds, perhaps Each reptile, justly claims our upper-hand. Luxurious feasts! a soul, a soul immortal, In all the dainties of a brute bemired ! Lorenzo, blush at terror for a death Which gives thee to repose in festive bowers, Where nectar sparkle, angels minister. And more than angels share, and raise, and crown And eternize the birth, bloom, bursts of bliss. What need I more ? 0 Death ! the palm is thino. LIFE OF ti. W. llliNKV. 193 " Then welcome, Death ! thy dreaded harbingers, Age and disease : Disease, though long my guest, That plucks my nerves, those tender strings of life ; Which, pluck'd a little more, will toll the bell That calls my few friends to my funeral ; Where feeble Nature drops, perhaps, a tear, While Reason and Religion, better taught. Congratulate the dead, and crown his tomb With wreath triumphant. Death is victory ; It binds in chains the raging ills of life : Lust and Ambition, Wrath and Avarice, Dragged at his chariot-wheel, applaud his power. That ills corrosive, cares importunate. Are not immortal too, O Death, is thine. Our day of dissolution I — name it right, 'T is our great pay-day ! 't is our harvest, rich And ripe. What though the sickle, sometimes keen, Just sears us as we reap the golden grain "? More than thy balm, 0 Gilead ! heals the wound. Birth's feeble cry, and Death's deep dismal groan, Are slender tributes low-tax'd Nature pays For mighty gain ; the gain of each a life ! But 0 ! the last the former so transcends. Life dies compared ; Life lives beyond the graie. " And feel I, Death, no joy from thought of thee ? Death, the great counsellor, w ho man inspires With every noble thought and fairer deed ! Death, the deliverer, who rescues man ! Death, the rewarder, who the rescued crowns ! Death, that absolves my birth, a curse without it ! Rich Death, that realizes all my cares, Toils, virtues, hopes ; without a chimera ! Death, of all pain the period, not of joy ; Joy's source and subject still subsist unhurt ; One in my soul, and one in her great sire. Though the four winds were warring for my dust. Ves, and from winds and waves, and central night, Though prison'd there, my dust too I reclaim, (To dust when drop proud nature's proudest spheres,) 1.! 194 TRIALS ANU TKIL'MPHS IN THE And live entire, Death is the crown of life ; Were death denied, poor man would live in vain : Were death denied, to live would not be life : Were death denied, e'en fools would wish to die. Death wounds to cure ; we fall, we rise, we reign ! Spring from our fetters, fasten in the skies. Where hlooming Eden withers in our sight ; Death gives us more than was in Eden lost. This king of terrors is the prince of peace. When shall I die to vanity, pain, death? When shall I die ? — when shall I live forever ?" The night of my father-in-law's death T bowed for the first time at the family-altar, which, by the help of the Lord, has ever since been kept up within my household, when at all practicable. Here followed some trials and temptations of a worldly nature, which I now see I was not able to bear with that Christian fortitude and meekness that became a child of grace. When I was a child, says the apostle, I acted as a child. I had not grace " tliat beareth all things, and endureth all things;" but, thanks be to God, he never has laid upon me any temptation but what he gave grace to deliver me, and has thus far delivered me out of them all. The reader will recollect that I said the first prayer I offered up after my conversion was that my wife might speedily be brought into the ark of safety. I believe she soon (as she says hei-self) re- solved to get religion, but intended to obtain it in the most genteel manner, and make no noise about it. Soon after the death of her father, she con- descended (she thought it a condescension) to go LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 195 to class-meeting with me. The next Sabbatli slio was still more willing to go, and began to think, by this time, that it was not tlie worst place in the world. Soon after, there was a protracted meeting in Greencastle, and she was persuaded to kneel at the mourners' bench ; but it Avas done with a world of precision, her face concealed by her handkerchieti as if very much ashamed of what she was dofhg, while not so much as a whisper of prayer could be heard to escape her lips. This ceremony she per- formed several times, claiming pardon for her sins (if she had any,) and religion because she had con- descended to perform those so very humiliating cer- emonies. The protracted meeting being brought to a close, she joined the Methodist Church on proba- tion, went to class-meeting regularly, had a well-set speech made up, which was delivered in as genteel a manner as need be. I was now more troubled about her soul than ever. There was a good old preacher tliat used to say that the devil had two cradles which he rocked his children to sleep in — the big cradle was the world, and his little one the Churcli, while he sung the lullaby of " Peace, peace," when (jrod has not spoken peace. I feared this was her condition, and frequently told her she had not one spark of religion, which was rather offensive to lier, for I doubt not she honestly thought she had religion ; and she would reply that she thought she had as much as I ; and truly, if religion consisted of outward forms and ceremonies, she had. I pray- 196 XKULS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE ed and wrestled with God to convict her of her sins, and bring her out of that horrid pit of cold formality. I seemed to have almost if not quite as much anxiety for the salvation of her soul as my own. In this dangerous position she remained about six months. I knew the veiy same Saviour yet lived Mho lie'ai'd the prayer of the importunate Canaanitish \\oman, who plead in behalf of her unregenerated daughter, and that he lived to answer prayer. I discovered that she began to feel the sting of an awakened conscience ; the strong man that had kept his place in peace was now being bound by the hand of Omnipotence. She was now willing to bow the knee and cry aloud for mercy; she felt that she was a great sinner, and needed a Saviour ; she then sought him with her whole heart, and, glory be to God, she found him to the joy and comfort of her soul, when shouts of glory, that filled the old church, told to all around that she had learned the new song; there was joy on earth, and joy jn heaven, for a sinner was converted. We cannot say that we have walked like Zachariah and Elizabeth, blameless in all the ordinances of the Lord, but we have been happy in the love, and have been trying continually to grow in grace and in the knowledge of God. Previous to her conversion, she would return home from class-meeting much amused at having heard the brethren talk of their many trials and sore temptations, to which she was a stranger. LIFK OF W. IIENRY. 197 Tliis was to my mind one strong e\'ilation. LIFE OF G. W. IIEXRY. •211 Wliile Homg tho work of the Gentiles I occasion- ally heard enforced the doctrine of jjerfeet love, Christian perfection, entire sanctificatiou, and holi- ness of heart. These were rather chimerical and extravagant doctrines to me, and I ventured to chime with others in ridiculing such ideas ; with all my cherished respect for rehgion I did not believe that such a state of gi-ace was attainable by mor- tals in this world. I therefore, for the fii-st year after ray conversion, like too many professors of relig- ion, instead of trying how holy and how close with God it was possible for liie to walk, it was probably a question in my mind how much sin the Lord would countenance in his professed disciples. I was decidedly a latitudinarian in my construction of the requirements of Sci-ipture. Now, if a man has not faith to believe a certain object attainable, he will be very unlikely to put forth an adequate eflbrt to possess it. But God has promised to make darkness light before us, and crooked things staight ; and, blessed be his holy name, he has thus far on my pilgrimage redeemed his promises to the spirit and letter — yea, far exceeding my expectation. I had now been coasting for about a year estowed. But in his abundant mercy lie winked at tlii^ ignorance, until I was tauglit that there were better, higher, nobler attainments in my spir- itual career which I might secure. About this time, while sitting under the droppings of the sanctuary, the doctrine of holiness of heart and entire sanctiti- cation was preached by one of God's holy ambassa- dors, by means of which the Holy Ghost awakened the sleeping energies of my soul to the all-import- ant subject. I followed the preacher to his lodg- ings to give him battle on that subject. I brought forward as many arguments as I could think of against him in order to bring out the whole truth in support of the doctrine, which he snccessftiUy maintained by the word of God. There also ap- peared about that time an article in the Christian Advocate on the subject of holiness, well fortified by Scrijiture. It was read to me one afternoon at the house of brother Keag}', while on an afternoon visit in company with several of our sisters in the Lord ; among the number were two old mothers in Israel — mother Cornman and mother Culbertson — who were then able to unite their testimony with the beloved disciples that "in Him there is no darkness at all," and that it is our privilege to " walk in the light as He is in the light, and have fellow- ship one with another," and that " the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth from all sin." I now fully resolved to " leave the things that are behind and ]iress forward to the mark for the prize of our high LtFE OF G. W. HENRY. 213 calling of God in Christ Jesns," and to " leave the first j^rinciples of the doctrine of Christ and go on to perfection," as Christ has bidden all his follow- ers ; and, before breaking up our party, we knelt at the throne of grace in humble prayer for the bless- ing of perfect love to God, and for Scriptural holi- ness ; and that was the time and place that I began to apply the oars of prayer and faith to launch my little bark from the shores of justification into the deep waters of the ocean of love. CHAPTER XV. It was now in the summer of 1844. Some of my brethren had at different times asked me if I thought I had not a call to exhort. I was quite astonished at such an idea, and looked upon it as presumptuous in them to suggest or think of such a thing, for I was sensible not only of my physical blindness, but of my ignorance of the Scriptures ; in addition to that I was very poor, and felt unable to hire any one to read to me, knowing at the same time that it would require nearly or quite all of my wife's time to take care of her household affairs. But from the very time that I began to launch out into the deep, my mind began to be loaded with the conviction that God had something for me to do in tlie great harvest-field, while my inquiry was 214 TKIALS AND TIUUMPHS IN THE like Paul's when he was converted, "Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?" I went to the elder brethren with my case, who at once gave me li- cense to exhort. A door seemed to be open at once for me to enter the field. My first attempt was in the Methodist church at Greencastle. There was quite a large congregation gathered on Sab- bath evening to witness how the blind man would succeed in his first attempt at this new undertaking. The cross bore heavier and lieavier as the appointed time drew near. T had attempted to an-ange something in my mind to say, but, as I arose to speak, my notes that I had attempted to write on tlie tablet of my memory were not to be found ; so I had to trust to the Spirit to teach me what to say. I talked away, hacked and hennned for about half an hour, and the meeting was concluded. The ad- versary of my soul you may be sure was on the alert to tempt and try me ; but I had by this time become somewhat acquainted with his devices and wiles, and I was fully resolved to do the will of the Lord according to the wisdom and strength given me. Tlie next move I made Avas to go into the coun- try with old father Hawbecker, a good, humble, devoted German preacher, who preached sometimes in Dutch and at other times in broken Enghsh, and I exhorted the congregations in Enghsh. The people in those neighbourhoods generall)^ imder- sLuod both languages. I found that every time I occupied I became more familiar with the use of LIFE OF G. W. HKKHV. 215 the sword of the Spirit, and the people gave good attention, and seemed to be intei-ested, if not edified ; and the best of all, the Lord was with me, and that to bless. I soon began to make preparations to go to the North ; but there was a camp-meeting to take place on the 6th of September in Franklin County, also one in Maryland near by. Dear reader, you would not expect that such a lover of camp-meet- ings as I could turn his back on two such great and heavenly spiritual feasts ; for I do really think that a Holy Ghost camp-meeting, where the breth- ren and sisters flock in from the East and West, the North and South, and sit together in heavenly places as the children of a King, to drink freely of the " wine on the lees well refined," and to partake of " fat things full of marrow," — such a place I think is more like heaven than any other on earth. The saints retire to their beds after feasting through the day full of glory and of God, and fall asleep amidst shouts and heavenly anthems from a few souls that are too happy to retire or to sleep. Like the psalmist, they " delight to do the law of the Lord, and in his law do meditate day and night." When at the break of day they are aroused from their celestial dreams and visions by the sound of the trumpet that calls them to duty, the silence of the morning is broken by the song of praise and voice of prayer to the God of Israel from the family altars ; and jxTliaps before those that commenced ilie morning oblation arise from their kncos the voice of jirayei 'JIG TUIALS ANO TKlLiNU'llij IN TICE and singing may be heard from every tent in the grove. 0, what a happy day will that be when every house becomes a house of prayer, and every lieart a fit temple for the Holy Ghost to dwell in ! — when neighbour shall not have to say to neigh- bour, Know yon the Lord ? for all sliall know him from the least to the greatest ! But it is not like heaven after .ill : for there is no night there ; tliey need no candle, neither the light of the sun, for the Lord God giveth them light ; and they shall reign forever and ever. Rev, xxii, 5. No, no ! glory be to God, that will be a congi-egation that will never break up. I had now lived in those two meetings ten or twelve days. I shall never forget that morning of tears and of joy of the breaking up of the last one, which was in Pennsylvania. The night previous was one of the outpouring of the Spirit of the Lord : many souls were born into tlie kingdom, and were sliouting glory. I had been about as happy during the wliole time of the meeting as I could be and live on earth. About eight o'clock in the morning the processions were formed in circles ; probably they would number five hundred. The circles were so formed that each brother and sister could give the parting hand as they moved past each other. To me it was solemn, yet glorious beyond the reach of my feeble power of description : for that very day I w as to leave for the North ; T was to be separated from so many of my heavenly Father's children, LIFE OK G. W. HEXKV. 217 probably to meet no more till the resurrection morn. " Blest be the dear uuitiug love That will not lot us part : Our bodies may far off remove, We still are one in heart. " Join'd in one spirit to our Head, Where he appoints we go ; And still in Jesus' footsteps tread, And show his praise below. " Partakers of the Saviour's grace, The same in mind and heart. Nor joy, nor grief, nor time, nor place. Nor life, nor death can part. " Then let us hasten to the day Which shall our flesh restore ; When death shall all be done away. And Christians part no more !" The 27th of September, 1844, we returned to thi.s country, the theatre of my youthful days ; and on the 27th of November we were blessed with a fine boy. No parent's heart Avas ever filled with more joy and gratitude to Him that giveth and taketh away, than was mine, lioping if we should both be spared, in a few years, b)' the blessing of God, he would be eyes and a staff to his blind father. O that God may give me grace, wisdom, and patience to rear him in the nurture and admoni- tion of the Lord, as a Samuel, or Timothy, that when I am old he may rise up and call me blessed ; at the same time may I be able to keep him on that altar that sanctifieth tlie gift. 218 TRIALS AND XKIIMI'IIS IN THE Not long after returning home I was invited by the brethren to preacli or exhort in the meeting- house near Grain's Corners, in Litchfield ; to stand before not a few of the companions of my boyhood who were foniiliar with the follies and indiscretions of my youth. It was a very cold day, and a small assembly convened in that large church, the females gathered around one stove, and the males around the other, on the right and left of the pulpit. Had I conferred with flesh and blood, 1 should probably have shrunk from that duty; but, thank God, al- though weak and imperfect, I do not think I ever shrunk from a known duty since he called me to labour in his vineyard : but I think if I was ever left to myself, and to the buffetings of Satan, it was when I was trying to preach at that time. The devil would whisper in my ears that I was nothing but George Henry that used to perform so many antics in that neighbourhood, and that all the con- gregation knew it, while to my imagination there was piled up before me a large stack of boards which I seemed to be addressing. This I will assure you was up-hill work. But I worried out about half an hour, and requested one of the brethren to close the meeting by prayer. I was then humble enough in feeling to crawl down through a hole in the floor, had there been one, to hide from human observation. Our Saviour very truly remarks, that a prophet is not without honour, save in his own country. But I soon through grace got the victory LIFE Of G. W. UESUY. 219 over the devil, and pronounced him a, Har ; for, not- withstanding I bore the same name as in former times, still I was not the same man. " He that is in Christ is a new creature; old things are done away, and all things are become new." So I got the devil behind me, and pressed forward for the crown. Dooi-s were opened in one place and another, and I occupied as an exhorter till the spring of 1845, when I obtained license to preach. I now sustained another severe attack from the enemy. I had an opportunity to preach on Frankfort Hill the next Sabbath after receiving authority to preach ; and if I ever groaned under trials and temptations, it was during the Friday and Saturday previous to my first attempt under a preacher's license. The sorest trial of all was, tliat I imagined that my wife was opposed to my preaching, and every mole-hill was magnified to a mountain. Saturday night, as I re- tired for the night, I endeavoured to unbosom my- self to the Lord, and asked him to let me know by a dream that night whether he had called me to preach his gospel, or whether I was going forth unbidden. I presume I had not been asleep more than five minutes, before I dreamed as follows : — I thought I went with a basket in pursuit of some fresh meat for my family. I soon came to one of the pleasantest-looking men I ever saw, dressing a lamb. 1 told him I wanted some meat ; and he then lay before me the right shoulder of a beef, 220 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE richly variegated witli fat and lean. He lold me to take it up, which I obeyed, and undertook to carry it away : it seemed to bear down on me with great weight. I attempted several times to lay it down, but could not. After I had removed it a distance, this same man that I saw dressing the lamb came and took it from me, his countenance appearing heavenly, and he smiled upon me as he relieved me of the burden. I then awoke with a degree of joy, and felt as much relieved as if it had been a literal transaction. The interpretation was then brought to my mind, referring back to the law of types and shadows : Levit. viii, 25. Here you see the right shoulder was given to the priests for a wave-offering, and placed upon their hands until Moses (who was the type of Christ) took it from them. So, by the grace of God, I am resolved to bear this wave-offer- ing until Christ shall say, It is enough, and permit me to exchange it for a crown of glory that fadeth not away. This dream, in addition to the dictation of the Spirit, confirmed me and encouraged me to go forth as an ambassador of the Lord Jesus ; and I have endeavoured to preach almost every Sabbath since, and sometimes two or three times a day ; and thus far I have proved him faithful to fulfil the last promise to his disciples before his ascension, when he commanded them to go forth and preach his gospel — " Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the world." And blessed be God, I do not recollect of ever entering the sacred desk without LIFE OF U. W, IIEXRV. 221 special manifestation of his presence. lie has al- ways filled my mouth with something to say : my greatest difBculty has been that I am disposed to say too much, and that I do not know when to stop, seeming to he insensible of the fleetness of time. An old preacher, who is able to show him- self a workman, would doubtless edify and instruct a congregation more in half an hour than I would in double that time. So much for my preaching, and so much for my dreaming. CIIArXER XVI. Reader, at this point I found myself again under solemn conviction, strange as it may appear; and this was the work of the Holy Ghost. While an humble local preacher, a hard-working faiTner was simplifying the w^ay of holiness ; he was made the agent in the hands of God of rousing up my re- deemed powers and brightening my spiritual eye, and giving me a panting after greater riches. I have heard that among the early gold-diggers in California, three men, while walking on the bank of a river, saw at a Uttle distance a golden strand of yellow dust that had been washed out of the rock near by. They saw at once that they had stumbled upon an almost inexhaustible treasure ; but to prevent any jealousy in the distribution of it, they 222 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE !ileasure with which he received your smile of ap- probation in the morning give place to a feeling of guilt ? Could he feel that his father was pleased with him, until he confessed his error and hastened to obey ? Observe, he did not incur guilt by going l)ack, but by s/nppinf/ on the road. This \yjll show ■J'2C riiiAi.s AM) ri!u Mi'iis in tiik iIk^ fallacy in the reasoning of those who contemi that tl^e soul, once prepared to die, cannot become unprepared, except by receding from that point. Take care: the cry of iniworthiness will avail nothing at the bar of God. The command is plain. How often have I heard brethren and sisters say, and that too with great boldness, that they knew that God, for Christ's sake, had forgiven all their sins ; and, at the same time, let one ask them if they enjoy holiness of heart, they would almost taint at the very idea, and reply at once that they " never felt themselves worthy of that great bless- ing." I ask you, my dear leader. How came you by the l>iessing of justification ? One would suppose by your talk that you received it by your own merit Alas ! what a rock is this on whicli thousands are sniiering shipwreck. Suppose you ask the returned l^rodigal what he paid for his spotless robe and his ring of gold, he will point you to the bundle of old filthy i-ags at the pool where he washed. And, i-eader, whether you are saint or sinner, this is all you have got to give in exchange for either justifi- cation or sanctification. The poet has it exactly right : " Nothing but sin have I to give, Nothing but love do I receive." Would you not think it strange to see an individual gather up a hundred pounds of filthy rags in the streets and excliange them at the bank for a hun- LIFE OK U. W. IlENRV. 227 (Ired pounds of pure gold ? Would you not won- der to see a ragged, desolate female exchanging her old sun-bonnct for Victoria's crown, which cost its millions ? This would be strange indeed, but not lialf as wonderful, or as profitable, or as easy, as the way of salvation by faith. I will give you the character of one or two more of these foul birds, or temptations, that pollute the sacrifice and greatly embarrass those who are seeking a clean heart. We are determined to tell the truth and shame the devil, by exposing his devices, and thereby make the way plain tor others. He will tell you, that if you get the gi-eat blessing you will not be able to live it daily. He will remind you that you live in an irreligious family, or are connected with a lukewarm Church. Here let us meet him with the stubborn fact that there were a few persons who lived in wicked Sardis who had not defiled tlieir garments, but were walking with Jesus in white, or, in other Vt'ords, in purity and heavenly joy. Hei-e, again, let us spread out the wiiting. God has pledged not only to make us pure, but to preserve us pure until his coming. This white garment must be worn every day of our lives, and in every circle in which we move, and be kept unspotted from the world. A lady was once asked why she did not wear her white dress every day? She replied, "Be- cause it got dirty so quick." This is not true. A white dress is no more susceptible of dirt than black 228 TRIALS AND TRU'MI'HS IN THE or gray. The only diflerence is, tho vvliite shows the dirt plainer. Is not this the great reason that more Christians do not walk daily in white ? The last formidable foe that was brought out for us to contend with, like Job's wife, when everything else had failed, was our darling reputation. Full and complete salvation proposes to make us like Jesus ; and one prominent feature in his character was, that he made himself of no i-eputation. This was a stigma that he brought upon himself by the bold position he took against popular sins, especially those that were found in the Church. It is written, "They that will live godly in Christ .Jesus shall suffer persecution." Let a preacher, or a class-leader, begin to war with popuhu- sins in or out of the Church, and he will find that he has waked up a hornet's nest ; but if you have not got your reputa- tion nailed to the cross, you will not be apt to do this duty ; therefore, ye seeker, count well the cost and agree to pay this price, and you have nothing to do but to lay your hand on the pearl. Amen. May the Lord help you. I will now tell you how I found the great blessing. There was a camp-meeting appointed on the Her- kimer and Frankfort Charge, in the fall of 1845, un- der the superintendence of brother B. J. Diefendorf, H faithful and much-loved preacher, who had laboured the last two years in this valley of dry bones with great acceptability. His aged and vener- able colleague fell asleep in Jesus a few months LIFE Ob- c;. W. IIEKKY. 229 since, and proclaimed, in the face of death, that he had enjoyed the blessing of perfect love, I think, for about twenty years. He was a living epistle that might be read and known in every circle in which he moved. A more triumphant death is seldoin recorded thau was his. But when the day had arrived for Israel to pitch their tents in the forest, your humble author, with his little ftimily, was with them, the little canvass house being set in order. Soon the voice of fervent prayer might be heard in almost every tent for an entire extinction of sin in the heart. I think in all the camp-meetings I ever attended, I never witnessed so much wrestling for this great blessing as there was from the beginning to the end of this meeting. At its close there was a cloud of witnesses, generally among the aged disciples, who testified that the Lord had heard and answered their prayers. On the second morning of the meeting, I think, there was a prayer-meeting in one of the tents, at the close of which Brother Gorham (whom to know is to love, both as a brother and a preacher) arose and told us how many years he laboured as a preacher without this diploma of perfect love. He also told us how he sought and found it to the joy of his soul, and how long he remained in the happy possession of it. But, alas ! he said, and with a deep sigh, he was compelled to tell his bretliren he had lost it by not watching and praying. And he said he came there more in the character of a mourner than as a 230 IRIALS AND TKIUMI'ILS IN THE preacher, and, with a sorrowful heart, he begged the piviyers of his brethren, that God in his mercy would restore unto him the pearl of great price. He was like the woman spoken of by our Saviour that had lost the piece of silver ; he was sweeping his house diligently to find it ; and, blessed be the name of the Lord, ho called his neighbours together at five o'clock on the third or fourth morning of the meet- ing to rejoice with him, because he had found what he had lost. When a goodly number of Israel were seated around the stand, their minds calm as a May morning, and free from excitement, Brother Gorham, being appointed to preach, arose on the stand, and pointed out how and when he recovered the blessing of perfect love. He also pointed out the dangei-s that stand thick around to deprive us of this jewel. He related his experience so plain, that a wayfaring man, though a fool, need not err in understanding the way. He also contrasted justification and sanc- tification ; and who is better able to set forth such truth than he who has experienced both degrees of grace in his heart ? and who is more unqualified to judge of such things than those who have never experienced them ? Let us first remove the beam from our own eye, before mounting the judgment- seat. While sitting under the droppings of his words, which fell like honey on my soul, all my powers of faith and hope were drawn out to God for this blessing. I was enabled to lay hold on the very horns of the altar ; and, while sitting in silent LlfE OF U. W. HKXKV. •231 in\0(.ation, I was seized with a sudden trembling and a slight spasm, (as frequently occuis when I am filled to overflowing with the Sjjirit,) and my strength was measurably taken away, like the apostle Paul, whether in the body or out of the body, I knew not ;" and I believe, for the fii-st time in my life, I was made insensible in my waking moments of what was passing around me. There seemed to be presented to me, while in this state, literally an altar ; and I thought I was laid on it as you would lay a child on its couch ; and while lying in this posture, 1 thought a voice intenogated me thus : " What do you want this blessing for?" I thought I replied, " To qualify me to preach the gospel." That mo- ment the Holy Ghost, like the refiner's fire, seemed to j)ass through my soul, literally shaking me from centre to circumference, as if the earthly tenement was to be shaken to pieces. During the whole process, down to this last-mentioned circumstance, I think I felt little or no joy, but rather the contrary. Like Moses, I did exceedingly fear and quake. But the moment after I felt this terrible shaking, the sun of righteousness broke into niy soul with its meridian brightness and glory, dispelling every cloud, and all darkness and doubt. My physical strength returned, and I suddenly rose on my feet, and shouted, " It is done ! the mighty work is wrought." AVhat angel can toll the happiness and heavenly rapture T then I'ell i " 'T is done !" I exclaimed. Weil, tell us wliat was done, says the reader. 232 TRIALS AND TKILMPHS IN THE With tlie help of the Lord I will proclaim what he has done for me ; not what I liave done for the Lord, for " Nothing but sill had I to give, Nothing but love did I receive." (Jloiy to God in the highest! Glory to God for- ever ! What angel pen shall write the joys of com- plete redemption ? The joy of seafaring men de- livered from shipwreck — the joy of a man delivered from a burning house — the joy of a criminal ac- (piitted at the bar — the joy of a condemned male- factor in i-eceiving pardon — the joy of freedom to a prisoner of war, is nothing to the joy of him wlio is delivered from going down to the pit of eternal destruction, for it is a joy unspeakable and full of glory. " Tlien lit'aven comes down our souls to greet, And glory crowns the mercy-seat." Dear reader, when I sent out the fii-st edition of this work, I had just received the blessing of perfect love ; or, as we miderstand the prophet Isaiah, entered into the land of Beulah ; or, in plain terms, perfect day. You have already been in- formed of my troubles while passing through the slough of despond before entering the strait gate. You have read of my trials and triumphs while travelling through the wilderness in the twilight. And now T profess, through grace, to have been set erty was like losing a sixpence and finding a guinea. The losing of my children resulted in the finding of Christ. The loss of my natural sight was like blowing out a candle and letting the sunlight of glory blaze perpetually in my soul. So much for my three friends. CHAPTER XYII. Dear reader, you have looked upon your autlior as the world generally does look upon the poor and the blind, and have said, perhaps, Avithout looking into the future, it would be well for hira if death would come and sign his release. But Christ saw in this shattered house of clay, with every Avindow- light broken in, an immortal gem, of more value than all earth's treasure ; and he came to me in the voice of mercy, and told me, if I would take up my cross and follow him, I should be made a king and priest and reign with him forever. He told me that his house should be my home, his fulness my treas- ure; that I might make as free in all his store- houses of grace as in my own cupboard ; and that his omnipresence should ever he. my guide. O LIFE OF (;. W. IlENRV. 239 wliat an inducomont is hoKl out for a lost siniior to come to Christ ! But I am delaying too much, and must hasten on my journey. If you recollect, we have travelled over the ground this morning from our youth up to 1841, the time when Jesus Christ took me prisoner. O glorious captivity ! There are five particular cir- cumstances which occurred in the course of my ten yeai-s' travel that I wish to notice, and, like Jacob of old, raise up a stone and pour on the oil ; for verily, tlioy have been as the gates of heaven to my soul. The first was the death of my little Fanny. The second was my covenant with God, at the Virginia hotel, to seek his face or die. This was about six months after Fanny went to heaven. The third event took place about five months after, when Jesus drowned all my sins in tlie depths of his fathomless mercy. The fourth was a connction of my need of holiness, about two yeai-s after my convei-sion. The fifth, which was about one year after, was a full and complete salvation from all sin. And now I entered into the land of Beulah, where the sun or the moon never go down upon the soul. So here we find our- selves happy in the Lord, a place of broad rivei-s and streams. It was on the 8th of September, 184.5, that I obtained a clean heart and received the white stone mth the new name, which no man knoweth save he that receiveth it. As the noble Hudson swallows up the Mohawk at its junction and liears it onward to the ocean, 240 TKIALS AND TriU Ml'IlS IN" TIIK ('\'en so supreme love to God and man takes in justi- fication, with all its buds and blossoms, and bears it on its bosom to the unbounded ocean of eternal felicity. This we term the land of Beulah. Pre- vious to my arrival in this happy land I had been through the wicket-gate, the dark valley, vanity fair, and the enchanted ground, after which comes the land of Beulah. As Bunyan has beautifully de- scribed it : " In this country the sun shineth night and day ; wherefore this was beyond the vale of the shadow of death, and also out of the reach of Giant Desjmir ; neither could they from this place so mucli as see Doubting Castle. Here they were within sight of the city they were going to ; also here met them some of the inhabitants thereof; for in this land the shining ones commonly walked, because it was upon the borders of heaven. In this land also the contract between the bride and the bridegroom was renewed ; yea, hero ' as the bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride, so doth their God rejoice over them.' Here they had no want of corn and wine ; for in this place they met with abundance of what they had sought for in all their pilgrimage. Here they lieard voices from out the city, loud voices, saying, ' Say ye to the daughter of Zion, Behold, thy Salva- tion Cometh ! Behold, his reward is with him !' Here all the inhabitants of the country called them ' the holy peojjle, the redeemed of the Lord.' Now, as they walked in this land, they had more rejoicing than in parts more remote frojn the kingdom to UFE OF O. W. HEXKY. •241 wliicli they were bound, and drawing near to tlie city they had yet a more peifect view thereof. It was builded of pearls and precious stones, also tiie streets thereof were paved with gold ; so that, by reason of the natural glory of the city and the re- rtection of the sunbeams upon it, Christian with de- sire fell sick. Hopeful also had a fit or two of the same disease ; wherefore here they lay by awhile, crying out because of their pangs, ' If you see my l>elovcd, tell him that I am sick of love.' " But, being a little strengthened, and better able to bear their sickness, they walked on their way, and came yet nearer and nearer, where were orchards, vineyards, and gardens ; and their gates opened into the highway. Now, as they came up to these places, behold, the gardener stood in the way, to whom the pilgrims said, AVhose goodly vineyards and gardens are these ? He answered. They are the king's, and are planted here for his own delight, and also for the solace of pilgrims. So the gardener had them into the vineyards, and bid them refiesh themselves with the dainties. He also showed them there the king's walks and arboui-s, where he delighted to be; and here they tarried and slept." — Pilgrini's Progress. John Bunyan and many othere travelled in this land many yeai-s, this side of Jordan ; and shall Chiistians, in the nineteenth century, walk in twi- light, when they may be overshadowed with a bright cloud on Mount Tabor, and hear a voice (not audi- Ki riUALy AKD TlUU-MPHa IN TllK l)lc to any other ear) but gently wliis])ering- within, aclcuowjedging us as sons and daughters of the Al- niiglity This is an honour and glory that the unre- generate man is a stranger to ; but let us return to our encampment. The meeting closed on Saturday morning in a blaze of glory. I had thouglit it a happy morning on the 10th of August, 1842, when I found God's pardoning love ; but O, who shall describe the pure, the holy joy of full salvation from all sin I You will not wonder that this was a happy meeting to my soul. Previous to it I had been like Lazarus, when brought from death to life. When Jesus came forth from the tomb, he left his gi-ave-clothes behind hiu) ; but wlien Lazarus was raised from the dead, he stood by a sepulclire, wrapped about with his winding-sheet, and a napkin over his eyes. .Icsus wanted him as a witness, to sliow to the un- Itelieving Jews his power ovei' deatli. Therefore, Jesus spake the second time, "Loose him, and let him go." This relieved him of his grave-clothes, and gave him pejfect sight and liberty. He whom Christ makes free, is free indeed. Even so was I bi ought out of my grave of sin, bringing with me many of my grave-clothes, or prejudices, even against th(3 doctrine of holiness; and until Christ spake the second time, I wiis not made free. I was like the blind man that Jesus took by the hand, and after leading him out of the multitude, touched LIFE Of Ci. \V. UENKV. 243 his eyos, aud told him to look. He answered tliat lie '• beheld men as trees walking ;" that is, he saw but very imperfectly. I remember that when my sight was failing, there was a time when I coukl hardly tell a man from a stump, or a hoi-se from a cow. I presume it was something so with the jiatient which Jesus had under his care. "After liiat he jiut his hands again upon his eyes, and made him look up ; and he was restored, and saw every man clearly." Here he entei-s into the land of Beulah. O Lord, give all thy people a finishing touch, that they may see their way clearly into the promised laud ! CHAPTER XVIII. TiiE first Sabbath morning after camp-meeting, feeling the word of God, like fire, shut up in my bones, I concluded to go and see a brother who had not been to camp-meeting, and who, like myself, had been hobbling along, sometimes in the light and sometimes in darkness. I found him in his shop, looking like the image of despair sitting upon a gravestone. He said : " Brother Henrj-, I have concluded to give up trying to serve the Lord, for the present at least. My wife is so peculiar in her disposition, and her temper is such, that it is impos- sible to keep up the family altar." I told him I '244 JKIALS AND TIUL'MPHS IN THE should like to see his wife. He replied that it would be of no use ; but I importuned, and at last made my way into her room — something I never would have dared to do before, knowing the parties as well as I tlid. After I entered the room we liad a terrible storm. O how Satan did rage 1 but with new-found strength and boldness, I began to tell them what the Lord had done for my soul, and what he could do for them ; and in a very short time we had the devil turned out of doors, and we all knelt down before the mercy-seat ; and many times since has my good brother referred to that happy morning, when, like sinking Peter, he was pulled up out of the deep, and placed again, happy and rejoicing, in the old ship. Here we discover the melting power of God attending his word; bending at once the rebellious knee, and changing bitter epithets and sarcasm into accents of love and praise. You may think, reader, that this is a small affair to relate ; but I can tell you that it takes more moral courage to go into a cage where a man and his wife are quarrelling, and seek to quell their wrath, than to take a torch, as old Putnam did, and creep into the den of the wolf. Putnam would hardly have ventured without his torch. Just so, we find our courage in the foot that our hearts are burning, like a torch, with love to God and our fellow-creatures. Here is use for a holy heart ; here is the test of that " i>erfect love that casts out fear." You will remem- LIFE OF (:. \X. HEXIiV. 245 hor when I lay in the cruciblo, whoro God was pleased to consume all my sins, that an invisible something asked, " What do you want this blessing for ?" You know, I replied : •' that I may be bet- ter qualified to preach the gospel." I wanted to be able fearlessly to preacli Jesus and his match- less love. And, dear reader, if you are seeking this blessing, let me ask. Is your motive pure ? or do you seek to consume it upon your lusts? We may burn incense, and snufi' up all the odours oui-selves. With such sacrifice God is not well pleased. It is the honesty of motive that will bear your soul on the palanquin of faith, speedily and wonderfully, and, while you are yet aspiring, lay you in tlie bo- som of your God. My soul says, while writing tliis sentiment, "Amen ! Hallelujah 1" I verily believe, in taking a review of my own ex- perience, that more than half my struggles, in seek- ing both justification and sanctification, have been for the loaves and fishes — the comfort and satisfac- tion of being freed from sin. It is true that Go is our coat of mail, and it is bullet-proof. It is ssiitl that Napoleon once contracted with an artist to furnish him a coat of mail, for which he was to pay nine hundred ducats. In due time the artist came, and laid it before the emperor. Napoleon inquired if he was sure it was impervious to a bullet ? The artist answered at once in the affiiinative. "Then," said Napoleon, " put it on yourself, sir, and stand out a few paces." The order was quickly obeyetl. The emperor drew his pistols and fired several bullets at him, but they fell liannless at his feet. The erajwror took the armour, ami gave the artist eighteen hundred ducats. Our armour has l>ecn proved ; it has been able to stand the unitetl assaults of three great princes, tlie AVorld, the Flesh, and the Devil ; and whoever puts it on must expo3 pass, every star of hope seemed to be overcast with a dark cloud. I greatly feared tlie dove of reason would leave the frail bark no more to return. This storm continued increasing about four days. The waves ran high. It was -with us hke one lost on a lonely mountain, waiting for day. When every star goes out, it is a sure sign that day is about to dawn, and a bright sun to rise. It is at such perilous times, when despair is about set- tling its dark pall upon every gleam of hope, that Jesus comes to us walking on the water, saying to the disconsolate soul : " It is I ; be not afraid !" Business required me to leave home, and I went praying, fearing, trembling, for the loved mourner that I left behind. On my return, I entered the house and inquired for Mrs. Henry. I was told that she had gone to one of the neighbours. I followed her ; and, O, how shall I describe my emotions when I beheld her sitting at the feet of Jesus I It was the very same Jesus who had spoken peace to my soul, that now filled with unspeakable joy the breast of my dear wife. She had an audience around her melted into teai-s while they listened to the story of what Jesus had done for her. Like the two Marys, who, when they heard that Christ had risen from the dead, ran over the hills of Palestine to tell tlie glad tidings to their brethren ; so did this daughter of Zion seem to bound with joyous transport from house to house, warning and exhorting all with whom she 254 TRIALS AND ■IRIL.MPIIS IN THE met. This continued for about four clays; and whoever listened to her exhortations, whether saint or sinner, melted under their influence. I must confess that I was sometimes tempted to stretch out the hand and steady the ark. The devil whispered to me : " Decency and order ! reputation, that dar- ling idol, may go overboard." But Jesus, it is said, made himself of no reputa- tion. O, that the Church may be moi'e like him ! I have described in former pages the raptures of God's pardoning love; but what angel pen shall write the joys of full salvation ! The little boy that led me had been converted a few days before, also the little girl that lived with us. No mortal can describe our happiness as we knelt around the mercy-seat. "Then heaven came down our souls to greet, And glory crown'd the mercy-seat." Glory to God forever ! glory to Jesus ! CHAPTER XX. Religion was at this time at a low ebb in Frank- fort, and out of one hundred wells there were scarcely ten to be found with the living water ■springing upward. For two or three years there was rarely ii door opened in our village of seven LlfE Of U. W. HE.NKV. 255 liiiialrecl inliabitiiiits fur a week-night jniiyer-ineet- iug; and, aside from the clergy, we do not kjiow of more tlian one or two who erected the family ahar. But, thank God I there were a few Presbyterians, Baptists, and Methodists, who were sure to find their way to the humble cottage of the blind man, and they always returned home as giants refreshed with new wine ; for God always met with us, "And bless'd with his presence our lonely retreat." Multitudes have gathered around our gate to hear the shouts of ti-iumph ; tor God hath promised to turn our moiu-ning into dancing, and fill our mouths with laughter. So, reader, do not think strange that God honoui-s his drafts or pays his promises ; but, as we intend to sjieak on the subject of holy triumph in some future page, we pass this theme for the pres- ent. It should be a great consolation to the redeemed that we are not dependent on our neighbours' wells for water, neither do we have to say. Give us of your oil. The lamps of a whole city may be lit up fi-om one candle, and from one sun millions of stare bor- row their light. Even so the true children of God fill their lamps from the one pure beaten olive-tree, and every lamp " is lit up by one Haming torch from heaven's great luminary. The life of the body is the soul ; faith 25G TKIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE is the life of the soul ; and faith is nourished and kept alive by the promises of the Lord. These are the food for faith in this life ; but in the life to come, faith lives eternally on performances. It is written, " The just shall live by faith." Let us search the records and discover what God hath promised. O my soul, remove thy veil of unbelief. " We have heard his words ; what need have we of any further witnesses?" "He that hath eai-s to hear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the Churches." I am the author and finisher of faith. I am the God of hope, the God of love, the God of patience, the God of all grace ; and I will give grace to you ac- cording to your day. I will be a well of water within you, springing up unto everlasting life. Yea, I will satisfy your soul in drought, and make fat your bones ; and ye shall be like a watered garden. These and many more great and precious promises are ours. O, my dear brother and sister in the Lord, can you ever again complain of barrenness and dry-time, as if Jehovah's all-sufficiency was not enough to satisfy and keep your little heart brimful and run- ning over with his love. But, to return to our subject. It was in Frankfort, as in Sardis of old, that there were some who had not defiled their garments. They were walking with God. It is a rare place to look for a rose at the mouth of the burning crater. It would seem almost as strange to find a Jehoshaphat in the house of Ahab, Ui'K Of G. W. UJSNKY. 257 or a Joseph in the house of Pharaoh. But they did live there, and kept their religion. It is not the place we are in — not so much lokere we are or who we are, that makes us happy, as what we are. xVl- ways remember that lie w ho is holy must be happy. I do not believe I ever grew faster in grace than when religion was at its lowest ebb around me. Seeing these fragments of broken vessels floating around me always has a beneficial eflect upon me. My prayer is continually : Give me poverty, sickness, or pei-secution ; but O, save me from even a Laodi- cean hikewarmness. Christ has left one promise on record, which, like Aaron's girdle, I have bound for- ever to my bosom : " If ye keep my command- ments ye shall abide in my love, even as I keep my Father's commandments and abide in his love." llciider, mark the word even ; that is to a water-level with Christ. It makes no difl'ei'ence if you are a beggar or a king ; even as God the Father loved his own dear Son, so will Jesus Christ love you. Christ further declares, " These things I say unto you," not that my joy may be felt now and then, at a camp-meeting, or love-feast, or in the spring-time, when every little stream overflows its banks, but " that my joy might remain in you, and that )-our joy may be full." Yes, glory to God ! your heart and mine may be full and running over from this moment until our feet are set in triumph on the other side of Jordan. 17 '258 TKIAJLS AND TKlL.Ml'llS IN Tllli True faitli, like water, will rise in tlie pen-stock level with the fountain. So let us lay our pipes I'ight at the head of the fountain, on the pinnacle of Mount Zion ; for it is written, " According to thy faith be it unto thee." During the winter of 1847 father Roper, whose name is written upon the hearts of thousands, com- menced a protracted meeting in Franldbrt. This was about his last work on earth. Standing up in the old Masonic hall, in Moses-like meekness, he wept over sinners in Frankfort as he warned them to flee from the wrath to come and lay hold on thg hope set before them. Here permit us again to speak of her whose life forms a part of this narrative. Mrs. Ilenry, though timid and retiring as the fawn that startles at the rus- tling leaf on every other occasion except the advocat- ing of the glorious cause of Christ, could now rise, in the strength of hei' Master and in the face of infi- delity, and exhort sinnere to come to Jesus, and then, with strong crying and tears, entreat God in their behalf Tiie fear of him whose power is limited to the destruction of the body, had given place to that perfect love which casteth out all fear. How true it is that God often uses the Aveakest instruments to bring to naught the wisdom of the wise ! Here was a feeble lamb facing an army of wolves. Glory to God on high ! It is not in our own strength that we measure swords with the juince of darkness. But the protracted meeting LIFK OF O. \V. HENKY. ■259 iv;is brouglit to a close. Although not as many fish were drawn to shore as. we could wish, j-et every honest tear was bottled, and at a future time, as we shall hereafter i-elate, poured out in a shower of mercy upon many hearts in Frankfort. As I have mentioned father Roper, I will close this chap- ter by relating a dream. A few weeks after father Roper was borne away on angels' wings to his long-sought rest, it so hap- pened that I lodged in the same bed where he left his armour to receive his crown. After falling asleep I dreamed that some one came to me, bring- ing letters from several preachers, and among the rest one fi-om ftvther Roper. I inquired where I could find him, and the messenger pointed to the top of a hill, through a long row of splendid build- ing's, to a door opposite a tree. That, said he, is father Roper's house. As I came to the door, a being transcendcntly beautiful welcomed me in. Great God, where shall I find language to describe the gloi ies of that scene ! As far as the eye could jienetrate this heavenly saloon seemed to be lit up with ten thousand chandeliers, shedding a halo of mellow light upon a garden of flowers, variegated and beautiful, beyond anythuig we ever discovered, read of, or imagined on earth. In this garden I saw many of my youthful compan- ions, who had long since passed the portals of death. One of them brought me, on a plate, a cut water- melon. Her countenance w;is ladiant with heav- 200 TKIALS AND IKlUMl'Jlb IN THE cnly pence and joy. The very thought of that .scene Jias ii thousand times ravished my heart with joy as I travel on in this vale of tears, singing as I go, " No foot of land do I possess, No cottage in this wilderness." CHAPTER XXI. It is now the spring of 1846, and in the fourth year of my pilgrimage to Mount Zion and the first year in the land of Beulah. One of the certain fruits of a young convert is a missionary spirit. The prophet Isaiah, after the coal of hallowed fire was laid upon his lips and his iniquity taken away and liis sin jnnged, heard a voice fi'om the throne, saying, " Whom shall we send ?" He replied, " Lord, liere am I, send me." With the young convert there is not only a will- ingness, but a burning desire to tell what God has (lone for him. John Bunyan says that, returning liome from church after his conversion, he saw a Hock of crows ; and so great was his love for every- thing that God had made, that he would willingly have stopped and told them the story of Jesus's par- doning love if they could have understood him. This missionary spirit flames still higher when the eye is touched the second time, and we behold every I.IKK OF C. \V. IIENRV. innii in liis [rue lio-Iil ; at, leasl fliis wns my li;i]ipy <'\luTi('iK'0. It is not only our duty, but oxalti'd privilege to publisli these glad tidings. l)M\id wanted to gather around him every one that feared God on the vvliole earth, to tell them what God had done for his soul ; that as far as the east is from the west, so far God had removed his sins from him. St. Peter seems to think it constitutes a great part of a Christian's duty to show forth the praise of Ilim who hath called us from darkness into his most marvellous light. Yes, bless the Lord ! Peter may well call it a marvellous light. Like the burn- ing bush, it is wonderful to behold, doubly so to dwell therein. Saint Paul says. Let tis therefore ofter unto God the sacrifice of praise ; and, lest we should mistake his meaning, he adds, that giving praise to his name is the fruit of our lips. Dr. Payson said that lie often felt like borrowing Gabriel's trumpet? that he might spread the news of salvation from pole to pole. This same seraphic fire blazed in the soul of your humble author. I felt that if I had the tongue of angels, if every hair of my head were a tongue, all should be em- ployed in spreading the glad tidings of Scriptural holiness over the land. It is an ancient proverb, that " where there is a will there is a way." As you see, reader, I have been almost everything in my life but an author, and surely I might have ex- pected to be anything else but that. Little did I think that the giving a history of mv life to the •2&/ TRIALS AND TliUMPllS IX THE world would benefit any one. But none Imt rjod can bi'jng something out of nothing. If I ever understood the leadings of the Spirit, it was in the matter of giving to the press and to the world an account of the dealings of God with my soul. But how was this to be done ? It would cost f;e\ eral hundred dollars. My capital stock at this time consisted of a feeble wife and two little children, a bundle of common furniture in a hired house, and I a blind husband and father. But I am thankful in my sold that Jesus Christ is the same now that he was in the days of Saint Paul, when he chose the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty ; and base things of the world and things which are despised hath God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to bring to naught things that are. Reader, was iiot the power and grace of God magnified by the lifeless, rough, and crooked instrument which he made use of in throwing down the walls of Jericho far more than if the work had been accomplished hy means of Roman engines ? What general of the l)i'esent day would select the jaw-bone of an ass as a weapon of war ? The reason the apostle gives for the use of such humble instruments is, that no flesh should glory in his presence. If we, then, glory in our own strength or wisdom, can we expect God to make us instruments of good ? A minister, whatever his talents or attainments, is not f|nnlifiod to bo used succcssfullv in spiritual war- UFK OF U. \V. HKNliV, 203 fare until lie lias ceased from his own ivorks. An ass is among the most despised of animals wliile liv - ing ; but it was when the jaw-bone had ceased from its own works — was dead and laid aside — that it was used successfully in the hands of Samson against his enemies. Even so every minister of Christ should be evangelically dead — or as indifferent to flatteries or frowns, glories or honours, as the humble bone used to slay the Philistines. Christ M as slain to re- ceive power and riches, wisdom and strength, honour, and glory, and blessing ; and in vain may his true followers look for power, heavenly riches, and hon- ours, until they have nailed their lives, property, and even their darling reputation to the cross. They must be willing, too, .so to be lifted up that a wicked world may wag- their heads and point the finger of scorn, and the Pharisaical cold-hearted professor of religion say. Come down from the cross ; that is, Come down on a level with us, and be satisfied with now and then a little milk, and live the balance of the time on garlic and onions. Then we can fel- lowship you. This is the price to be paid for holi- ness. This is selling all and buying the field. This is our diploma, our qualification for holy war. For it is written, "Stronger is He that is in you than he that is in the world." So much for the instruments with which God chooses to carry on his warfare. Therefore take courage, my soul, and what he saith unto thee write in a book. I have said I was with- out capital, but here I was mistaken. Can a man •204 TRIALS AND iRlUMl'IlS IN THE lie without capital who lias a sanctified companion praying 'for him, together with the promises of a faithful God, who never mocks a feeble worm by commanding him to stretch forth a paralyzed and withered arm without giving the power to do it. So we went forth to our work comj)aratively penni- less; and as fast as Satan planted sycamore-trees and raised up mountains of difficulties, Faith said. Be ye removed and cast into the depths of the sea. A contract was made to print a book of about one hundred and fifty pages. I came liome, put a pen into the hand of the little boy that I had hired to be the light of my eyes, and commenced in good earnest to make a l)oolv. In the language of Bunyan, " As I pulled, it came," and in about five weeks I had upwards of three hundred pages. I got fifteen hundred copies in-inted, and it cost over four hundred dollars. The printer and bookbinder seemed as willing to wait as if I was worth my thousands. He that called me to this work had prepared the way before me. 0, how good it is to trust the Lord. The first book I oflfered for sale, was at the Method- ist Conference, in LoAvville. I had with me, besides the books, a quantity of fine cloth, and hair-brushes of my own make. Almost every minister bought a brush of me, and took a dozen of my little books to sell. God bless them ! The next door that opened was the school dis- trict library, accompanied with high commendations LIFE OF 0. \V. IIENIIV. 2G5 from tlie superintendents, .ludge (xravos and others, llerel must acknowledge, with gratitude, the special providence of God in enabling me to provide for the support and comfort of a helpless family. The school district libraries liave from five to twenty dollars appropriated annually, for the purchase of books. So, instead of going around with one book, I took my boy and attended the great book auc- tions which are held twice a year in the city of New- York ; and from that year until the spring of 1852, I have generally bought and sold about one thousand dollars worth of books annually, so that the barrel and the cruse have never yet been empty. My bread and water have been most as- suredly given. Anotlier eti'ectual door it opened to me. While the fifteen hundred tongues, in the shape of a little silent book, were proclaiming the goodness of God to my soul, I found a large itinerant field in which to preach the gospel. This opportunity I gladly embraced ; and there are but very few churches, for twenty miles around Frankfort, in which I have not been permitted to proclaim the unsearchable riches of Christ. Glory to God for the privilege ! I have made it a rule never to enter a house, or to be in the company of any person a sufficient length of time to give an opportunity, without saying some- thing about a pi-eparation for eternity. I never hoar the bell tolling the departure of a neighbour from time into eternity, without asking myself: 266 TRIALS AND TRIl'MPHS IN THK "Have I (lone my duty to that soul?" Gracious (tolI, let me feel for souls now as I shall in that (lay when thou shalt come to reckon with both preacher and people! One cheering thought is, that in that day I shall hail with joy, in the glori- ous city, tliousands whom I have never seen, yet dearly love. My brethren, whose voices I am famil- iar with, but whose faces I have never seen, will gieet me there. Many of them I have perfectly daguerreo typed in my own mind, as if I had seen them all my life ; and my own children, that I have never seen, seem to be as familiar to me in every feature, as if I had looked upon them every day of their lives. So strong is the illusion, that it seems to me, if ray sight should suddenly be restored, I should certainly recognise them far from home. I have thought it would be a great curiosity if I should suddenly receive my sight, to see how mis- taken I had been in picturing out the visage of men and things since I became blind. How much more if I had been born blind. How old Bartirneus must have wondered when Jesus touched his eyes, and lie beheld the thousand beauties of nature for the first time ! With what astonishment did he be- hold the king of day, with his golden beams I With what pleasure did he gaze upon the green fields of Palestine, and still more when he beheld the face of his divine oculist. And doubly so, he who was both deaf and blind. At a word, the deaf ear was unsealed, and listened with unspeakable joy to na- LIFE OF a. \V. IIENUV. •201 tnro's tlirillinj^ anthems. Gracious God ! if the o])OHing of tlie eye and the ear to the beauties of the natural world will cause such rapture, how in- describably thrilling must be the emotions of one translated in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, to behold the glories of the upper world, and to have the songs of the redeemed, as the portals of the heavenly gate are thrown back, suddenly burst upon the ear. " Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive the things God hatli prepared for them that love him." I once heard an old man say, that though often happy in God, he never had felt like shouting — never had shouted in his life ; " but," said he, " if I am ever so fortunate as to reach heaven's gate, when T see the host of the redeemed — the ransomed of the Lord, from the whole earth — the poor, the rich, the black, the white, the old and tlie young, all go up together to possess their heavenly inherit- ance, as they pass the threshold of heaven, and cast the first -wondering look around heaven's vast do- main, and strike the first note of praise unto ' Him who hath loved us, and washed us, and given him- self for us,' I think I shall send up one shout of glory to God." 208 TRIALS AND TOIl'MPIIS IN THE CHAPTER XXII. The fall of 184Y found me set down at a camp- meeting in M'Connellsville. This was Israel's an- nual festivity, or feast of tabernacles, a kind of a harvest-home to the reapers. You have been with me, dear reader, to a gi-eat many camp-meetings, while I was living in a state of justification, and you will not expect me to relinquish, in a higher and holier state, such a nuptial festivity. My com- panion, also, came w ith me, in order to participate in those holy delights ; but the Master of Assemblies, in his wisdom, set before her a plate of bitter herbs, while my portion, like that of Benjamin, seemed to be increased five-fold. Wliile the windows of heaven were raised, and my soul iimndated with heavenly glory, she was called to suffer. She was taken suddenly ill, and was removed from tlie camp- ground to the house of sister Koon, who also left the field, like a guardian angel, to smooth her pil- low in sickness. Here was a sacrifice far richer in the sight of God than ever smoked from a Jewish altar. Here was an exhibition of that love which seeketh not her own, but another's good. How good it is for the sick to fall into the arms of mercy. What a rich investment were the twopence sacri- ficed by the Samaritan for the good of his afflicted neighbour. Yes, glory to God ! every step, every LIFK OF O. W. UliNKV. 269 tear, and every penny invested in tlio cause of mercy will yield a rich reward, if given from pure love to God and man. Thousands of years in par- ailisc for the least good thought, and thousands of thousands for the least good deed, and then the reckoning shall begin again, till all arithmetic is ex- hausted, for you shall be swallowed up in a blest eternity, and the doors of heaven shall be shut upon you, and there shall be no moi-e going out ; so shall wo be ever with the Lord. To leave a camp-meet- ing to attend to the sick, is something like Jesus leaving heaven and coming down to earth to bind up the broken-hearted. May the Lord ever bless sister Koon 1 But let us return to the camp-meet- ing. Brother Squires, who has since taken his passport to the eternal world, was preaching; his text was ; " And let the God that answers by fire, be God." I, hke Stephen, looked steadfastly up into heaven, and suddenly the hallowed fire came down, seeming, literally, to pass through soul, body, and spirit. No shower-bath was ever more sensibly felt than that baptism of the Holy Ghost and of fire. I trembled and fell to the ground. In this process I think I was cured of a little spiritual pride ; I had been instructing my wife a few days previous on a more genteel way of shouting when slaui, or overwhelmed by the power of God. Under such powerfid exercises she would often scream and yell at the top of her voice. I told her it would appear better if she would articulate : Glory to God ! Halle- 270 TKIALS ANJJ TKlLiU'llb IN THJi liijab ! or, Praise the Lord ! This, I told her, would be more- pleasing to the ear of those who surround- ed her. Thus I put forth the hand to steady the ark ; but when the power of God overwhelmed my soul on the occasion above referred to, in spite of all of nature's powers or modern fashions, I yelled like a panther : I felt my pride greatly mortified, while the devil whispered to me that my brethren would all be tried with me for making such a great noise; and thus has been the manner of my exercises up to the present day ; and when Satan comes whisper- ing, order and decency, I just tell him to get behind me, and not trouble himself about children that do not belong to him. Very likely if it was not for this thorn in the flesh, this messenger of Satan to buffet me, these peculiar exercises might be the occasion of pride. Some one has said, " Deep is the sea, and deep is hell, but pride mineth deeper." Mark its various transformations, as it seeks to retain its hold upon the heart ; even at the throne of grace it will beset thee ; yea, from the palaces of heaven ambitious pride once cast down a legion of angels ; doubtless, pride is the most powerful engine that the prince of darlcness ever run out from his depot ; it is destroy- ing more devotees at this day than were ever crushed under the wheels of Juggernaut. God knows that, blind and poor as I am, I am more afraid of this than of war, famine, or cholera. Here, at this camp- meeting, I met, for the first time, sister Elizabeth Ward, under circumstances never to be forgotten. LlfK Of U. W. HKNKY. 271 About twelve o'clock on the firet night of the ciunp-mceting, as I was returning from a prayer- meeting, I heard deep and fervent intercessions going up to God in tones of earnest entreaty. It was Elizabeth wrestling for the ci-own of perfect love, which a short time previous had fallen from her head. As she saw me she said, "Brother Henry, come and pray for me." I was, at this time, nearly on the top- round of Jacob's ladder, and I felt more like praising than praying. But we knelt down there, and once more measured swords with the ]>rince of darkness. The contest was severe, but liiith told us the victory should be oui-s, and so it was. She again received the crown of perfect love, and wore it in triumph a few days on earth, and then melted away from the vision of her earthly friends, as the mor;iing star melts away in the upper and brighter sky. Her friends have prepared a little volume of her life and warfare upon earth, and her early translation to her mansion of light. On tlie last morning of the camp-meeting. Brother Ilartwell preached from this text : " Create in mo a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me." My seat being immediately in front of the stand, I felt the honey very sensibly dropping from the rock as he blew the gospel trumpet over my head, sweeten- ing all my ransomed powers. The sermon being ovci', I started for the tent ; but, like the man sitting at the beautiful gate, I felt my feet and ankle-bones receive sti-ength, and commenced leaping and prais- 272 rUIALS AND TKlUMPllS IN THE ing God. Tlie meeting closed with a love-feast, at which » cloud of young converts testified that they had in that hallowed place found a sepulchre for all their sins. There were also witnesses, not a few, of complete and full salvation. Glory to God for full sah'ation ! glory to God for camp-meetings ! How many in the Church above would this day echo back. Glory to God for camp-meetings 1 for it has been the gate of heaven to their souls. Do not think, reader, that we are going to make up our whole life on the camp-ground. Still, it will be something like the history of the Revolutionary Wjir — mostly made up of great battles and glorious victories, while little is said about the days of drill- ing, brightening up armour, &c. But as Israel had pitched their tents again on the plains of the town of Schuyler, my wife being convalescent, we raised a little canvass house of our own ; and, my Lord ! was not that a Bethel to my soul ? I was like a balloonist I once saw in Philadelphia. After his balloon was inflated, he got into his little car, and requested his friends to let him lise about twenty feet, and then fasten it to the gi-ound with a cord, until he had everything in readiness to rise higher. Even so it was with my soul. It was perfectly in- flated with the Spirit of the Lord. I think I then realized the prayer of the apostle in behalf of the Ephesians, "that they might know the hva of Christ, which passcth knowledge," and "be filled with all the fulness of God." Yes, glory to God ! i.iFK OK i;. w. iiiONiiv. 273 my soul was floating t;ir above tlie principalities and powers of earth ; and had death at that limo lieen permitted to cut the silver cord, my ransomed soul would have soared away to the home of its (iod. My wife, while engaged with Martha's hands, had Mary's heart. She had long since chosen that good part which Mary chose ; and, thank God, al- though four long years have passed since that time, it has never been taken from her. Although sick- ness and sore conllict-s have marked almost every step of her way since that time, yet she has been abundantly sustained. I wisli to mention one little incident that occurred at this meeting, about my making money out of the devil. I was on my knees praising the Lord, when my little boy cam 3 and whispered in my ear, " Brother Henry, some- body has cut our harness all to pieces." I turned and said, " Do not say a word about it ; if the devil wants to whet up his knife on my old harness, let him do it ; it shall not disturb my peace." Neither could he; for just then I felt rich in the Lord. How glad he would have been to have disturbed my temper a little, and make me murmur against God for permitting me to sufler loss, when I was in the way of my duty. So I told the boy not to mention it ; but I was too late, for he had already told several on the ground, and several of the brethren came and slipped a piece of money into my hand or pocket, to make up the loss. And at the close of iho meeting, brother .Tones came and 274 TKIAI.S AND TKIl^Mr'llis IN IllE lnouglit nie a very good old lianiess, and said, " J3rother Henry, I will make you a present of this harness." So I put it on niy horse, and used it two or three years. My harness that was cut I got mended for one shilling. So you see I made quite a speculation out of the devil that time. If we want to take advantage of the devil, it is in vain to quarrel with him, for lie has the henefit of long experience, and is very subtle ; but we should do as the servants did in the case of the unmerciful creditor. They went and told their Lord, wlio at once punished him severely. Well, once more we were safely at liome, and now comes the test of our Christian graces. Many Christians would stand a hard brush with the old evil one in person, while at the same time he Avould grow perplexed and peevish at a thousand little trials not larger than a mosquito. Hei'e is a wasting of spiritual strength so per- petual and gradual, that it is hardly perceived until the pool- soul finds itself far gone in a spiritual con- sumption. The shorn Christian wonders at it, for he has kept up his usual form of prayer, both in public and private ; indeed he cannot think of any sin of omission or commission, that he has been knowingly and willingly guilty of ; but there he is. As great mountains are made up of little particles of sand, so these little mosquito trials have rolled up a mountain of sin between him and his God. Perhaps you have often prayed that the Lord would pour out his Spirit upon the heathen, and convert LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. •275 tlio world, and build up liis kingdom evcvywliero, wlion at the same time a whole swarm of petty vexations and little anxieties are so distracting your thoughts, that you hardly know what you are saying. Perhaps a careless servant is wasting your sub- stance, or a blundering workman has spoiled your goods, a child is vexatious or unruly, a friend has made promises and failed to keep them, an ac- quaintance has made unjust or satirical remarks, or you have a headache, your house is in disorder, and company comes that you wish to have form a good opinion of you ; but all this calls forth no prayer for strength and patience, though it is all the time lying like lead upon the heart. You feel as if these were small affairs to trouble the Lord with, and thus your stock of grace diminishes, speck by speck, and the peaceful dove has flown from your turbulent breast. O if God were only known and regarded as the soul's familiar friend, every little care as it comes to us would be laid upon him who is able to bear it, and our lightened spirits would pass on rejoicing in him who has said, " Trust in the Lord with all thy heart, and lean not unto thine own under- standing. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths." 270 TRIALS AND TliirMPIlS IN' THE CHAPTER XXIir. About tliis time a circumstance occurred that I wish to mention to the praise of God's sustaining grace. God had given us a darhng boy. For eleven short weeks we held the little treasure, and then our heavenly Father unwound the thousand little tendiils it had thrown around our hearts, and suddenly bore him away to bloom among the flowers of paradise, There is a flower called the night-blooming Cereus. About nine o'clock at night it begins to unfold its petals, and continues expanding until midnight, when it appears one of the most lovely flowers ever beheld by mortal eye. From this time it gTadually closes up, until at three o'clock it is completely hid in its foliage. So it was with our little Charles Emory. We had but just looked upon his loveli- ness, wlien he passed forever from our sight. This was a great affliction to Mrs. Henry. Unconsciously she had made an idol of her babe. Let it ever be remembered, that our God is a jealous God, who never did, and never will make any compromise with an idol. Consequently one or the other must be given up. The crisis had come when the crown of perfect love must fall from the head of the mother, or the idol be turned out of the temple. God in mercy took the child, and stayed himself to comfort the broken-hearted mourner. Wlien I lost my first LIFK OF CJ. \V. UliNRV. 1277 child, I murmured ; but I could say on this occasion, " The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away ; blessed be the name of the Lord." My dear wii'e too was brought to say, " The dearest idol I have known, Whate'cr that idol be, Help me to tear it from thy tlirouc, And worship only thee." Her heart was again cleansed from idols, and sprinkled with clean water. She shouted at the funeral. A wonderful peace flooded my soul. The little grave had no gloom. The clods of the valley falling on the little narrow house, seemed like the bells of the new Jerusalem inviting us to the man- sion of light, whither he had fled. " I remember how I loved him when a little guiltless child I saw him in tlie cradle, as he look'd on me and smiled ; My cup of liappiness was full, my joy words cannot tell, And I bless'd the glorious Giver, who doeth all things well. " Months pass'd : that bud of promise was unfolding every hour ; I thought that earth had never smiled upon a fairer flower ; So beautiful, it well might grace the bower where angels dwell, And waft its fragrance to His throne, who doeth all things well. " He was the lonely star whose light around my pathway shone, Amid the darksome vale of tears through which we journey on ; Its radiance had obscured the light which round the throne doth dwell. And I wander'd far away, from Him who doeth all things well. " That star went down in beauty, yet it shineth sweetly now, In the bright and dazzling coronet, that decks the Saviour's brow ; He bow'd to the destroyer, whose shafts none may repel. Rut we know, for God hath told us, he doeth all things well. 276 TKIALS AND TRlUMl'llb IN THE " I remember well my sorrow, as I stood beside his bed, And my deep and heartfelt anguish, when they told me he * was dead : And O, that cup of bitterness ! — let not my heart rebel : God gave, he took, he will restore, he doeth all things well." So now, reader, I liave told the birth and death of my little boy ; but I do not ask your teai-s or sympathies. Although the blowing out of the little candle was taking light from a blind man's path, l omoving the little staff that he might have leaned upon as he went forth proclaiming a free and full salvation to wretched and dying men ; yet, what were all these advantages, compared with the jewel t>f perfect love ? The value of a thing must be es- timated not only by the first cost, but by what it costs to keep it. The price of salvation was nothing less than the blood of Jesus Christ. And he who thinks or imagines that a pure heart can be pre- served without daily sacrifices, perpetual watchfiil- ncss, and unceasing prayer, will soon find that the blood of Jesus Christ must again be applied to cleanse from all sin. Many a man will steal your guineas, that would not touch your pennies. A stranger may ask, as he beholds the marble edifice in the city, why those massive bolts and bars are sprung upon its doors and windows ? why those faithful sentinels march around, watching with eagle eye every liour in the night its avenues ? He will be told at once there is a great treasure within tliu.si; walls, and they are afraid to trust even bolts and bars, without those living watchers. Even so, LIKK Of Li. W. IIENKY. 279 when Christ has cleansed your heart tVom every sin, and phmted his own precious treasure there, do not tliink the danger is over. The banished enemy of your soul and his allies are well acquainted with the avenues to the citadel from which they were so lately expelled ; and unless you watch unceasingly, looking to God for aid, you will certainly be over- come. Perhaps the battle has already been fought, and you " have overcome through the blood of the Lamb." Satan has seemingly lied from you, and you have stacked your arms, and flattered your soul that there was no more war in the land. But re- member, reader, that the old deceiver was never more deceitful than wlien he is seeking to rock you .-tslcep in the cradle of self-indulgence ; and if you once fall asleep, he will be as careful about awaking you, as ever a burglar was about awaking the in- mates of tlie house he was robbing. Do not forget, then, to watch ; and I pray God not only to sanctify you wholly, soul, body, and spirit, but to preserve you blameless unto his coming. " Faithful is he that calletli you, who also will do it." CHAPTER XXIV. TuK winter of 1847, 1848 was a season of blessed Iriiils to mo. They showed me how nuuh I loved the ordiiiuuctj.s of God and the harmonious sound ■^8U TltlALS ANU XKlUMl'Hb IN THE (if the gcispel, by Jepriving me for a season of their Messed enjoyments. While assisting my wife in wringing out some clothes which had been washed with campliene, I took a violent cold. It resulted in i-heumatic pains and deafness. For a few months it was with difficulty I could walk across the floor, and besides I was really deaf. This was a great trial of my faith. I had become reconciled to blind- ness ; but now the question came, " Are you Avilling to have your ears sealed up until Gabriel shall blow, never more on earth to listen to nature's thrilling anthems — never more to be comforted by the sweet voices of wife, children, and fi-iends — never more to listen to the harmonious sound of the gospel ? In addition to all this, are you willing to sutler with malignant rheumatic pains, threatening to disjoint the whole body f This was the next thing to be- ing buried alive. I do believe that 1 folded uj^ my arms in re- signation, and said, from the bottom of my heart, " Amen. Let my Father do what seemeth good in his sight." I do not think there was a shadow or a cloud permitted to darken the glory and munifi- cence of God from my ransomed soul. I still dwelt in Beulah. I had got beyond Doubting Castle, and I did not go back. Among the few resources that were left me, I found a well of living water which I had dug and stored up in my time of health and hearing, like the little boy who had committed to memory parts Lift: iJf U. W, UKNKY. 281 of the sacred word. When liis Catholic parents de- tected him, and burnt liis Bible, he said, " You may take away my book, but I thank God yon cannot take from me the twenty chapters I liave in my memory." So it was with me. Since I have been blind, and while employed in making brushes for the support of my family, I have employed the little boys, hired to lead me about, in teaching me passages of Scripture, so that, at the time I am speaking of, I could repeat a hundred chapters, be- sides having a general acquaintance with the Bible. Now I liave my little Florence, eleven yeai-s old, and (jieoi'ge Wesley, wliose picture you see in the fi-ontis- piece, for the light of my eyes. I do believe that the committing of the Scriptures to memory haa been one of the principal stepping-stones by which I have entered into the audience-chamber of the King of kings. Ilere is good living. To a soul fully redeemed, the Bible is no longer a dead letter. It becomes spirit and life. AVith what avidity does the loving wife break the seal of the letter she re- ceives from her husband while he is in California, procuring riches for her comfort ! When he speaks of his success in mining, what joy dances on her countenance ! Iler eyes fill with tears of joy as she reads, " A little while, and he that shall come Avill come, and will not taiTy." Reader, wliat is the cause of these transports of joy? Permit me to answer for you. She believes what she reads, and living, burning, realizing faith jwurs into the coft'ei-s 282 llllALS AND TlilUMl'HS IN ■llIE of the soul the substance of the thing hoped for, a sure evidence that tlie unseen husband yet lives with the rich treasure, while she, with appropriating faith, says, My husband, my gold. "All mine is tliine, and thine is mine." You see here how the wife has a fellowship with her husband. The read- ing that letter is with her the next thing to seeing him face to face. You remember the letter sent to my mother with the intelligence of my convei-sion tu God. She not only broke the seal and read the lines with more than a mother's joy, but she carried it in her pocket, and every one that she met that loved Jesus, and knew what it was to rejoice witli angels and men over a repentant sinner, she would take it out and read it to them. In her conduct was displayed an exercise of per- fect faith. She simply believed, without a doubt, that the letter she held in her hand was not only the sentiment of her son, but that every word of it was true. It was to her reality ; and it brought to her soul as much joy, perhaps, as if she had heard my lips utter the truths it contained. Even so faith in spiritual things has destroyed the deadness of the letter, and clothed with life the precious truths of God's word. The precious promises, both in the Old and New Testament, breathe a precious assurance into my soul that I shall shortly dwell where we shall have no need of the sun or the moon, for the glory of God is the light of that place. Ilallelnjah to heaven's king ! LIFE OF G. W. llEMvV. 283 Let mc repeat to you again, reader, tliat committing the Bible to memory has been a wonderful help to me. Well might David say, " It is a liglit to our feet, a lamp to our path." How many times at midnight, when almost every lamp of earth is blowi out, and nearly half the world are slumbering in the arms of Morpheus, I have taken out my Bible, which is engraven upon the tablets of my memory, and, like an old miser, sought to count up my riches. lie reckons up his promissory notes, bonds and mortgages, and sets them down as so much cash, yet there is not one particle of cash about them. They are only promises to pay him money at some future period. Great God, may I not have as much faith in the promises, bonds and mortgages, written by the finger of God, confirmed by the oath of the Father, and testified to by the Holy Ghost, as a rich worldling has in his papers, or, rather, in tlie faithfulness and ability of those that have signed them ? Alas ! how often the Christian is rebuked by these words : " O ye of little faith !" I have above told you of some blessed trials of my faith. The great Refiner walked with me through the furnace, tempering the heat as he saw I was able to bear it, bringing me through, like the three worthies, without the smell of fii-e on my gar- ments. The spring of 1848 found me in perfect health, soul and bod)'. Mrs. Henry wa-s at this time spiritually on Mount Pisgah. To pra}-, testify and exhort in the open courts of God's house, was 284 TRIALS AND TKIUMI'IIS IN THE to her more than her meat and drink. God, in his wisdom, made known his power in the use of a weak, trembling woman ; but while she delighted in all the ordinances of the Lord, the hand of afflic- tion was suddenly laid upon her. She was seized with a bronchial affection, which, from that time to this, has prevented her from praying in an audible voice. Catarrh and spinal-affection setting in about the same time, altogether produced the most sensi- tive nervous debility. Perhaps no form of disease is so trying, so wearing out to soul and body, as this last mentioned. But if there were never any sick, we should know little about the skill of the physi- cian, or the value of his remedies. Even so, if there were no sorrow and trouble to be borne, where would be the test of our Christian graces ? In my suffer- ing companion, grace found a subject wherein to magnify the 2>ower and mercy of God. For more than a year sore disease and extreme pain seemed to be letting her down, step by step, into the cold waves of Jordan. The pain in her head seemed so to derange her thoughts, that she was only capable of one or two forms of ejaculatory prayer, such as : " Lord, sanctify this affliction ;" or, " Thy will be done." Iler nerves were so sensitive that the rattling of a newspaper would greatly distress her. The phy- sicians and neighbours thought she must die, but I could never be brought to believe it. There was something that whispered within that my Susan would yet be raised up. LIKE OF 0. W. HENRY. 285 My neighboui-s sometimes amused themselves with what they considered my groundless faith. Under these circumstances I one day ascended the ladder leading to the garret of ray cabin, where I had just room to kneel down ; and if any man on earth ever got a direct answer from a telegraph, I think I received one from the throne above con- cerning my wife. When I came down stairs I told her she might look for a change in her condition shortly. The same evening, about dark, the family found her speechless, with one half her person, from head to foot, cold and stifi". She believed herself dying; and as she reflected that she -was only a step from the kingdom of glory, the flood-gates of grace were I'aised upon her soul ; and though she had not been able to speak a loud word for some weeks, she now shouted, " Glory ! glory ! glory !" so that she might have been lieard in the streets. Every earthly in- firmity seemed to be swept overboard by the flood of glory which poured upon her in copious effusions. The whole room seemed to be lit up with the glory of God. The doctor was soon called, and ordered her a little wine. She replied that she expected soon to drink of the fruit of the living vine in her Father's kingdom. The doctor was a full-blooded sceptic, and, like the ancient Pharisee, had never seen any- thing of that fashion before. Doubtless he little expected, when he was called in to administer medi- 286 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE cine to his j^atient, to have an exhortation poured on to him ; but upon liim the great work began, and for weeks she exhorted saint and sinner as they daily entered her room. That voice and throat which, for months previous, were scarcely able to utter a word, were now audible and strong. She believed that she had now received the ful- ness of the blessing of the gospel of peace. Grace had loosed the last earth-bound tie, and she seemed to be like a good saint who took her pass- port to glory not long since. Consumption had gradually consumed her until her feet stood in the waters of Jordan. Her husband and six children gathered around her dying-couch to receive her blessing, and gi\e the last farewell. She first threw her arms around her beloved husband, exhorted him to meet her in heaven, kissed him, and gave him to God. Then taking the oldest child, and from him down to the little babe, she bade them all farewell, and left them in the hands of God ; then folding up her arms and closing her eyes, she said, "Now I have nothing to do but die." She lay still and silent for a few moments, when a sunbeam of glory seemed to illuminate her features, and she clapped her hands and shouted, "They're coming! they're coming ! and our little Willie is with them, and 0 how beautiful he looks !" and thus, with an escort of angels, she went home. Mrs. Henry felt that she had nothing to do but die. Her only disappointment was that slie did not LIFE OF Ci. W. IIENKV. 287 liear tlie niinbliiig of the chariot wheels sent to bear her rausonied soul to mingle with the company of just men made perfect. Never did she view her- self as nothing but dust and ashes until now. She often remarked that she felt like a little worm crawling upon the floor, every moment subject to be crushed. I'ower seemed to be given her in her weakness, so that the story of the love of Jesus to sinnere, and what he had done for her poor soul, seemed to make everything quake. She seemed to have been made perfect through suffering. She had gone out of herself, and was hid with Christ in God. At this point, I discovered that she had passed me on the race-course, although she started about a year after me. I now plainly saw her some distance in the advance in full stretch for the crown. I had no de- sire to hold her by the skirt, but have been trying with all my might to overtake her. But if I do not, I still say to her, " If you get there before I do, Look out for me, I'm coming too." CHAPTER XXV. In the fall of 1848, Rev. Jesse Penfield being about to close up his labours on this circuit, liod put it into his iieart to raise a Methodist chapel in Frankfort. •288 TKIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE To all appearance tliis might liave staggered the faith of Abraham ; but with God impossible things become possible. The attempt was made, and in February, 1849, a beautiful brick church was dedi- cated to Almighty God, by Rev. B. J. Diefendorf, then presiding elder on that district. A protracted meeting was then commenced in the Baptist and Methodist Churches. The battle now began in good earnest; the powers of darkness gave way, and a glorious I'evival followed in both Churches. Frank- fort in a measure seemed to be redeemed. O liow good it is to hold on to the arm of the Lord and wait patiently for him ! The blind man's cottage could not now hold a tenth pai-t of the lovers of prayer-meetings, where, for six years previous, they would not average ten persons, including all denom- inations. I was deprived of hearing the dedication sermon, as duty and affection kept me by the bed- side of my suffering companion ; but in- the evening I had the happiness of listening to brother Wyatt. His subject was the great feast Avhicli God had prepared for the souls of them that love him. I will assure you I opened my mouth wide as the Lord had commanded me, and my soul partook heartily of the solids as well as the fluids that faith saw plainly spread out before me, — not only fat things full of marrow, but wine as pure and efferves- cent as that drawn from the water-pots at the wed- ding in Galilee. As I arose, after the sermon, to express my gi'atitude to God for what lie hf\,d done, LIFK OF (;. W. IIENKV 289 nnd wliat he was about to tlo for siiinei-s in Frank- tort, I took so largo a draught of this wino that 1 reeled and fell inuler its jiuwer; and 1 have scarcely drawn a sober breath since. It was the same kind of wine that the disciples drank on the the Ancient of Davs. LliK OK O. \V. IIENKV. producing his evidence that God was his father and Jesus Christ his elder brother. At a little distance j-ou will see a good sister melted into tenrs, while a hoh', reverential awe broods over her in silence ; by her side lies one insensible, while the whole five hundred rejoice together in hopes of the glorj' of God. You now turn and ask me the cause of all these exhibitions of joj' ? Permit me to answer yon, in the language of your bar-room host : " They are all filled with tlie Spirit." I should be glad if I had space to make a few- selections, backing up this truth, not only from sacred histoiy, but also from the history of the Church dui-ing modern reformations. But I must pass them by, and conclude this too lengthy cha])- ter by giving you two recipes — one that will efiec- lualh- cure you from fault-finding, and the other to cure the people of God from shouting. They are a sovereign remedy. Perhaps a little incident in my own experience may better convey my meaning. About the year 1836, while living in Franklin County, Pa., business placed me in a stage-coach to go to Harrisburg, a distance of about forty miles. About twelve o'clock at night the driver stopped at a hotel in the village of Carlisle, a few rods from Dickinson College. While changing lioi ses I roused from a stupor, and half-awake, and not very good- natured, went into the bar-room, where at once my cai-s were saluted with shouts, song-s, speechifying, loud laughtei-, and not a little systematical swearing. 204 THIALfe AKD TKlLMrns Ii\ THE The noise proceeded from ii large parlour in a dis- tant part of the hotel. I well understood the cause. I suppose it was something like the noise that Moses and Joshua heard, as they came down from the mountain, from a certain part}', dancing and sliouting around a golden calf. But I had not been there long before the parlour-door opened, and it \\ as no sooner known by the revellers that Captain llenr}' was in the house than a fragment of the j>arty caught me by the collar, and, in spite of all expostulations, precipitated me into the midst of a |>ai-ty of drunken collegiates and other like com- jjanions. Under those circumstances, I presume, ! felt very much like an unconverted man, looking on, while the power of God is displayed like a tor- nado in the forest, waving one tree top into the arms of another, and occasionally tearing up a stately oak by the roots, biing-ing it headlong to the ground. They appeared to me like a set of fools. Their general conversation and performance seemed ridiculous in the extreme. The stage now went oft" without me. I began to pour down the wine, and in half an hour I could laugh and make speeches with the best of them. I saw no impropi-iety in anything that was going on. Here, reader, is your I'ecipe. When you get tired of hearing your breth- ren shout, hearken to the invitation of the proph- et, to come and buy this wine, and let your soul delight itself with its delicious hifluences. Let your soul be tilled to the brim with this i)Uie wine of the LIFK UK (i. W . 1IHNK\ . 295 kingdom ; aud if it does not cure your croaking and fault-finding about the brethren and sisters shouting and making such a noise and confusion, you may set it down for a certainty that you have not a genuine article. The second recipe is an effectual cure for shouting, leaping, falling with the power, &c. Take a quantity of backbiting, croak- ing, idle words, superfluity of dress, anger, self- righteousness, mix them well together in a powder, and wash it down with a hearty draught of rum, brandy, or whisky, and, my word for it, you will not be troubled with spiritual ecstasy. But, before I close this subject, I wish to say I can tell the read- er by experience — by sad as well as joyous experience — that the consequences resulting from the use of tiie two articles are as unlike as heaven and hell. The wine of this world leaves a man with a headache, heartache, remorse and rags, and the finger of God hath written, "No drunkard shall inherit the kingdom of God." Consequently, the undying soul will dwell forever in eternal darkness with distillers, rumsellers, hypocrites, dogs and sorcerers, and every species of e^'il-doers. While the wine tliat flows freely from Christ, the living vine, will give peace, like a river, and the ultimate boon will be glory, honour, immortality and eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. One will pro- cure for you the torments of hell, the other the rest of heaven. Readei', the two cups are before you. May (iod iielp you to make a wise choice. Amen. 296 TKIALS AND IHlLMi'llS IN THE "GOOD MORNING, BROTHER PILGRIM I" 17(6 following is the substance of a conversation between tico professors as they met; one going to, the oth4:r returning front, mmp-meeting, early in the morning. " Good morning, brother pilgrim ! Wliat, marching to Zion ? What doubts and what dangers have j ou met to-day ? Have yon found a blessing? Are your joys increasing? Press forward, my brother, and make no delay. Is your heart a glowing ? Are your comforts flowing ? And have you an evidence now bright and clear .' Have you a desire That burns like a fire ? And have hope in the hour when Christ sluill appear?" " I came out this morning. And now am returning, Perhaps little better than when I first came ; Such groaning and shouting, It sets me to doubting, I fear such religion is all like a dream. The preachers were stamping, The iieople were jumping, .\nd screaming so loud that I neither could hear Either praying or i)reaching ; Such hon-ible screeching, 'T was truly offensive to all that i\ere there." " Perhaps, my dear brother. While they pray'd together, You sat and consider'd, and pray'd not at all ; Would you find a blessing ? Then pray irithmil catsiiig. Obey the advice w'hich was given by Paul. Hit: Of U. W. llEMtV. 297 For if you should reason At any such season, No wonder if Satan should tell in your eai- ; ' The preachers and people Are all but a rabble, And this is no place for reflection and prayer.' " " ' Ko jilace for i-fjicction ." I'm fiU'J with distraction, I wonder the people could bear for to stay ; The men they were bawling, The women were squalling, 1 wonder, for my part, how any could pray. Such hon-id confusion, If this be religion, Sure it is something new that has never been seen , For the sacred pages AVhich speak of all ages. Do nowhere declare that such ever lias been."' " Don't be so soon shaken ; If I 'm not mistaken, Such things have been acted by Chi'istiaus of old : AVhen the ark it was coming, ICing David came running, And danced before it, in Scripture we're told. When the Jewish nation Had laid the foundation, -Vnd rebuilt the temple, by Ezra's command, Some wept and some praised, Such a noise there was raised, 'Twas heard afar off, perhaps all through the land. " And as for the preacher, Ezekiel the teacher Was taught for to stamp, and smite with his hand ; To show the transgression Of that wicked nation. And bid thcni n-pent and obey the command. 298 TKIALS AND TKILMFHS IN THE For Scripture quotation In this dispensation, Our gi-acious Redeemer has handed them down ; If some ceased from praising, We hear him proclaiming. The stones to reprove them would quickly cry out." " Then Scripture is wrested ; For Paul has protested That order should be kept in the house of the Lord ; Amidst such a clatter Who knows what's the matter ? Or w ho can attend unto what is declared ? To see them behaving Like drunkards or raving, A)id lying and rolling prostrate on the ground ; I really felt awful. And sometimes was fearful That I 'd be the next to come tumbling down." " You fear persecution, And there's the delusion. Brought in by the devil to draw you away ; Be careful, my brother, For blest are none other But such as are never offended in me." CHAPTER XXVI. 'J'liE Sirring of 1849 foiuid my prospects, temporal and spiritual, briglitenino;. I still continued selling- books. My wife's health continuing feeble, we broke up keeping house, she going to Litchfield to board with her children, and I to New-York to at- LIFE OK Ci. W. HE.SKV. '209 tend the great book-auction. One Sabbath morn- ing while in New- York, I went to the Blind In- stitute. I wjxs not a stranger to them, for I had been there the year before with the little book con- taining the history of my life. The superintendent ])urchased one, and it was read to the pupils gener- ally, so that by this time we felt like old acquaint- ances, and, I presume, I shall never forget in time or eternity the glorious class-meeting I had the first Sabbath I had the happiness of meeting with those labouring under like infirmities with myself. The class met at nine o'clock in the morning. There were about thirty pei'sons present, including various denominations. They were in a square room, with a row of benches around the wall. I was requested to lead the class. I presume I have been called U2)on to lead nearly one hundred difl'erent classes, and I do not believe that I e\ er led a class that had so fair a view of the eternal city as this. Class was opened by two or three fervent prayers, and then they struck up, " Come, thou Fount of every blessing," and there was so much spirit and glory in it that it seemed as if I had never heard it before. The music of a score of Jenny Linds w-ould have sounded flat in comparison with this spiritual choir. The blind inmates had all been well instructed in singing, from the little child to the adult. When the time of pn-aching came, if ever I was prcjjared to let down the gospel-net, it was tlien. There w as quite a con- coiii-se of people from the city, and. a.s they all arose 300 TKIALS AND THIUMPUS IN XltE to siug, in unison with their tremendous organ, one might ahnost be persuaded that the choir whicli the revelator saw had descended from above, the num- ber of which was " ten thousand times ten thousand and thousands of thousands." It was evident, how- ever, that it was not the song of the angehc band ; for while the angels sing, " Worthy is the Lamb tliat was slain," the poor, the lame, the halt, and the blind sing on the higher key: "Unto him that k)ved us, and hath redeemed us to God by his blood out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation, and hath made us kings and priests; and we shall reign on the earth." This text, with all its glo- lious and exalted privileges, I once placed beyond Jordan ; but since I came into the land of Beulah, faith has brought it over on this side, and I am now preaching, singing, and living, every sentence and syllable, through rich abounding grace. If we are not to sing the song of redemption this side of Jor- dan, I fear we shall never sing it. If we are not to reign as kings and priests on the earth — that is, put every spiritual foe under our feet — I fear w'e shall never do it. Glory be to God ! the door of heaven is opened, and the heavenly treasure unlocked to our vicAV while here on earth. One would supjwse the very music of the sons and daughters of God would be enough to win every soul to Christ. But there are men that will give hundreds of dollars for a ticket to a Jeuny-Lind concert, that would not bend the knee to Christ for a ticket that LIFE OF (i. \V. IlESIiV. 301 vvoultl place in tlioir hands a golden harp, and give them a seat with heaven's choir at God's right hand. 0 Lord, pity them that are so blind to tlieir own happiness ! I am reminded here of a little cir- cumstance that occurred not long since. I liad often thought that I would like to procure one of David's harps, and learn to play on it, supposing it would cost about fifty dollars. It so happened that a company of musicians, who had one of these harps, put up for the night in my neighbourhood. I went over and incpiired the price of one, and was told it would cost from three to five hundred dollars. This decided the matter that I should never have one on earth ; but that moment the Spirit raised up IV standard, and encouragingly said, " Child, your Father lias got a golden harp laid up for you in glory;" and faith seemed to lend her realizing sight, so that I could almost lay my hand upon it. My soul at once filled up with glory ; and, as I con- trasted the two hai-ps, the heavenly one looked so glorious that it made the earthly one appear of as little value as a child's whistle. Let us seek the things that are above, for it is our privilege to have the glorious city plainly in view as we journey through this vale of tears. But let lis go back to the Blind Institute. My subject was the resurrection of the body, when these earthly houses, with every window destroyed, and walls dilapidated and ruined by the fall, should be raised glorioles ill holiness and divinely beautiful, as it is 302 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE written : " Beliold he cometli witli clouds, and every eye shall see liini, and they also which pierced him." " Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be, but we know that when he shall appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is." What a glorious and heart-cheering subject for a blind preacher to hold up to a blind audience ! " O, my soul, be not cast down ; hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise him who is the light of ray countenance and my chief joy !" In my intercourse Avith the poor and the blind, I have come to the conclusion liiat the poet was not extravagant when he said, " Earth has no sorrows that Heaven cannot cure." It is but a few hours since an unbelieving, but kind- hearted man, after bestowing upon me a small favour, expressed his cheerfulness to do so as he looked upon my infirmities, remarking at the same time that he supposed if I had a million of dollars I would give it for the restoration of my sight. I made no reply ; but I certainly did think then, as I think now, that I would not stand in his shoes, or those of any other unbelieving man in spirit- ual blindness, twenty-four hours, for one million of dol- lars, and run the dreadful hazard of being suddenly called to settle my great account. So there was sympathy on both sides. Before taking leave of my blind companions, I wish to relate a word or two concerning their Sabbath school. At^ three LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 303 t)'clock in tlie afternoon, one hundred and tbirty-fivo toachers and pupils met to engage in reading, re- citing, and explaining the Bible; and little blind children not six years of age knew moi'e about the Bible than I did at forty. Humiliatmg as is this confession, no doubt there are thousands now strut- ting in their silks and broadcloths totally ignorant of themselves, their Bible, and their God. Here is a blindness that may be felt; while heaven and glory shine around the pathway of thousands that are naturally blind, but, having an eye single to the glory of God, their whole body is full of light. They are children of the day, and they have no occasion for stumbling. So farewell, my blind companion.s, till we hail each other on the banks of the promised land, and sing hallelujah to God for tree grace ! CHAPTER XXYII. In the above chapter you recollect tliat I told you of my engagedness in selling books here. I began to tremble, fearing that through the deceitfulness of gain, thorns and briei-s might spring up in the garden of my soul, and choke the precious fruit. But God gave me strength according to my day, and I was enabled to keep the world in its right place. I endeavoured to take up every cross, warning and exhorting every man that T had any dealing with. ;304 TRIALS AND TUIUMl'IIS IN TIIK and seeking to spread Scriptural holiness over the land, jvhile a door of utterance was opened every Sabbath for me to preach the unsearchable riches of Christ. About this time Charles Weudall, a little boy of thirteen that I employed to lead me, was converted to God, in a powerful class-meeting at l)rother Benjamin Harter's. I think I never saw a clearer or sounder conversion. This was the third boy that had been converted while leading me. This was a glorious ) ear to my soul. Mrs. Henry was at this time boarding at brother Champion's, in Litchfield. You will recollect the account given in a former chapter of her sickness, and the display of God's power in bestowing upon her the fulness of the blessing of the gospel of peace. Her infirmities were still pei-petuated, so that from that time she has been in a very feeble *tate. But as the apostle exhorts us to sanctify the Lord God in our hearts, and be ready always to give eveiy man that asks us a reason of the hope that is in us with meekness and fear, we will let sister Henry speak for herself, by inserting here a diary of two or three weeks, kept until her health failed, and she was obliged to lay down the pen. This, perhaps, will be a fair sample of her faith and its effects down to the present time. July 8th. — I have been able to rejoice to-day in the God and Rock of my salvation. This morning I conversed with a sister, whose heart is panting' after holiness. Tried to give her some light ; told her how the Lord had led me nut into the ocean of LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 305 his love, and that I now felt as if swimming in a flood of glory. As I was conversing with her she was sent for. She gave me a pressing invitation to come and see her, as she wanted to learn more abont this highway of holiness, and requested an interest in my prayers. I lent her a book on holiness, praying that God would bless her in reading it, and let her into the liberty of the gospel. This evening called to see a stranger, who is not a professor of religion. ^Mien I stepped over the threshold of the door, I prayed that God would direct me to warn her to flee fi-om the wrath to come. In reply to my inquiries she remarked that she had thought some upon the subject, and would try to get out to church. My aim and object is to be of some use while I stay here below ; and I i>ray God that I may ever let my light shine, and never seek to conceal what great thiug-s God has done for me. July Qth. — Had a good time in secret prayer ; felt the whispering of the Spirit bearing witness with mine that I was a child of God and an heir of lieaven. Blessed be the name of the Lord for faith, which is an anchor to the soul, both sure and stead- fast, that entereth within the veil. July lOth. — Have had a good day; feel that Christ reigns without a rival. Blessed be the name of the Lord for this highway of hohness, cast up for the redeemed of the Lord to walk in. Felt humbled in the dust this evening while convei-sing 306 TRIALS AKD TlULMl'HS IN XHJS with a Methodist exhorter, who professes sanctifica- tioii. > I told him of my enjoyments — that I felt as ■willing to sufter with Christ as to reign with him. lie said he thought I enjoyed more of a fulness than he did. Instead of lifting me up it humbled uic in the dust. O that the Lord may keep me, — "Low down iu this beautiful valley, Where love crowns the meek and the lowly— Where loud storms of envy and folly May roll on their billows in vain." Jahj nth. — Feel a peace this morning, and my prayer is, that love may ever drive my chariot wheels. Satan laboureth in nothing more than to keep us in unbelief, especially of particular promises ; for lie knows if we beheve them we shall in all things have the victory. Let us come before God with boldness, claiming every promise as ours. O the abundance of sweet cordial comfort which all humble believers draw by faith out of every promise ! Juhj \2tli. — Feel weak in body, but the soul feels strong in the God and Rock of my salvation. I know that whenever this earthen vessel is dashed to pieces my soul has a home in heaven. I feel this morning that I can read my title clear to mansions in the sky. 0 how inspiring it is to look away to that blessed country, and think of the society we shall have there ! There are the holy angels, the blessed pi'ophets, the triumphant apostles, the vic- torious martyrs, and all the host of the redeemed; these will be my Lonii)Hnious forever. I, even I, LIFK OF Ci. \V. UK.NHV. :307 shall mount the upper sky, having on a robe of righteousness, with the palm of victory in my hand, and, as I cast my glittering crown at the feet of my Redeemer, there shall be a golden harp given me, and I shall be permitted to join with the heavenly host in glorifying God and singing, Hallelujah ! the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth. Blessing, honour, glory, and power be unto him that sitteth tipon the tlirone and unto the Lamb forever ! July \Ztli. — I feel like calling upon all within me to praise and adore the name of the Lord. The prayer of my heart is, that I may be ever clothed with humility ; for God resisteth the proud, but gi\ eth grace to the humble. " A broken heart, my God and King, Is all the sacritice I bring ; The God of grace will ne'er despise A broken heart for sacrifice." Jidij loth. — Feel that Jesus is mine, and I am his ; went up to the house of the Lord yesterday, anil heard brother Jerome preach his farewell sermon. The text was in 2 Corinthians xiii, 11: "Finally, brethren, farewell. Be perfect, be of good comfort, be of one mind, live in peace ; and tlie God of love and peace shall be with you." Had a glorious time ; tlie Lord was there. Two sisters were struggling for the blessing of perfect love. One said she felt as if she could almost touch the hem of Christ's garment, but unbelief seemed to keep them both away. My prayer is, that the Lord may beat back 308 TRIALS AND TKILMI'IIS IN TllK the power of unbelief and let tlieni into perfect liberty. July I6ih. — After retiring to rest last night was favoured with an extraordinary display of divine grace. I felt to rejoice that the Lord reigned, that Jesus was exalted fiir above principalities md powers. This morning am very weak in body, but feel that I can do all things th,roug]i Christ, who sti'engtlieneth me. " I can do all things, or can bear All suiFerings if my Lord be there ; Sweet pleasure mingles with the pains, While his right hand my head sustains." 0 what a blessed thing it is to lose our will in ( Jod's ! Since I lost my will I have found happiness. Inhere can be no such thing as disappointment to me, for I have no desire but that God's will may be accomplished. Blessed be the name of the Lord ! Juli/ llih. — I feel to rejoice this morning with joy unspeakable and full of glory. O liow sweet it is to sit at the feet of Jesus ! Li his presence is fulness of joy ; at his right hand there are pleasures forever more. For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. " He bids his angels pitch their tents Bound where his children dwell ; What ills their heavenly care prevents No earthly tongue can tell." Juh/ I8th. — I feel that if I live for God nothing shall be lost. I shall have full measure, pressed down and running ovei'. Thousands of years in 1.1 FIC OK (.'. W. IIF.NKV. ;509 paradise for tlie least good tlioiiglit, and tlioiisaiids "f thousands for the least good word ; and the i-eckoning shall begin again, for I shall be swallowed up in a blessed eternity, and the door of heaven shall be shut upon me, and there stall be no more going out. Thus ends this short diary of a feeble woman, walking and talking with God, Enoch-like, having the testimony that she pleased God, and in this uiio point is embraced the great duty of religion, that we please God, and not ourselves or our fellow- inen. Such a soul is truly travelling in the land of Heulah, like a youthful bride rejoicing in the smiles of the bridegroom as she leans upon his almighty arm, decked with the ornament of a meek and eginning and ending tliat I cannot pass it un- noticed. When I say ending, I mean the breaking up of the meeting ; for I do not believe I have yet found tlie end of the glorious river that swept through my soul, and has wafted me on towards heaven. I expect the river to grow broader and deeper until it is lost in the great ocean of eternity ; but I must make this long story short. My little boy Charley, who was converted at the class-meeting, as I told you, while absent a few months at school, 21 322 TKIALS AND IKlLMl'ilfj IX TUE liad suffered the little mischievous foxes to mutilate, if not ,to root up, the tender vines planted in the garden of his soul. As I crossed the threshold of the camp-ground, I received a hearty welcome from the great Head of the Church. I then took Charley in the arms of faith and threw him into the pool, and he rose in the likeness of his Saviour. Ten o'clock found us in our covered wagon, which we used as a substitute for a tent, and I doubt whether the disciples were much happier on Mount Tabor than we were there, fully proving that it is not tlie place, but the state we are in that makes the heaven. We were full of glory and of God. With our souls all washed with the blood of Christ and renewed in life, our sleep was like that of Bunyan's pilgrims, who received their refreshment from the hand of the shepherd on the delectable mountains ; it left a peculiar flavour and sweetness upon the lip, so that they talked in their sleep about the celestial city and the King of the place. A word or two about the morning waking, and we pass along. It was a lovely summei- morning in June, and we awoke just at the break of day. It seemed as if every limb in the forest around us was bending with a feathered songster, whose heart and tongue, like our own, had been tuned anew for heaven, whilst over our head a squirrel chattered in perfect liarmon}'. Vciy soon we heard the morning song, followed by fervent prayer, from the family altai', until every tent was vocal with prayer and praise ; yea, in the lau- LIFE OF G. W. IlENUV. 323 gnage of the prophet, the very hills and mountains seemed to break forth with singing, and all the trees of the field to clap their hands for joy. My earthly eyes could not look upon all these beauties ; but, to the undimmed vision of the soul, I seemed to have ah-eady come to that place where the revelator heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and all that arc in the sea, saying : " Blessing, honour, glorj', and power be unto Him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb for- ever and ever." In the midst of this general jubilee, however, there came a flock of crows with their black shining coats ; and their caw, caw, caw, brought to my mind the passage of Scripture : " There shall come scoffers in the last days." But, regardless of the cawing of crows, the anthem of praise went up to God ; and though the Church have boon scoffed at and ridiculed by a sensual and pleasure-loving multitude s^ince the days of Christ, they still shout ti'iumphantly : " Neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." " Though unseen, I love the Saviour ; He hath brought salvation near ; Manifests his i)ard'ning favour ; And when Jesus doth appear, Soul and body Shall his glorious image bear." 324 TKIALS AND TlilLMrHti IN THE Tlic meeting grew better and better as souls were converted and believei-s sanctified; and when we met on the last morning for love-feast, there was brother B. J. I ves with his battalion of young soldiers, many of them new recruits, and brother Torry with his detachment of red men, who had laid down the tomahawk and taken hold of the sceptre of peace. And now the love-feast relished like the dessert of strawberries and cream, after the more substantial din- ner. Then came the breaking up of the circle, and the farewell. Long may this time-honoured custom be retained, as a feature of our beloved camp-meetings. While the procession was passing around, I began to feel the effects of the wine dispensed by the Master of the feast, and I began to jump, and perfiaps I jumped fifty times as high as ever I did in my youthful days, and then fell to the ground. I was never happier in my life ; but I soon rose and took my place with the preachei-s, and as the procession came around they seemed to be robed in spotless white, and I felt as if I were passing them directly into the kingdom of heaven. These were certainly the most j^eculiar moments of my life. Scripture- promises seemed to flow forth from my mouth like the gushing of water from the smitten rock, as I encouraged every one that I took by the hand to enter into rest. The question has often been asked, whetlier I had anything to do with that leaping and jumping ; and I answer in the fear of God, if I know my own heart, I have no will about it any more 1,1 FK OK (.-. W. HBN'UY. ;325 than an automaton, or the hrancli swa3-ed to and fro by the wind. Do not think, reader, that these particular exercises are proof that I possess any more religion than some persons who do not have them. The man who sings, and shouts, and dances in tlio bar-room may be no more intoxicated than one who sits stupidly in his chair, or lies silent on the floor. You will remember we have shown, in a former chapter, how the same spirit operates dift'erently upon ditierent temperaments. You know the psy- chologist and the clairvoyant must have one or more persons who are willing to be used as subjects to illustrate their sciences for the benefit of the mul- titude. It seems to be so in the science of religion. The Holy Ghost makes use of certain persons to display liis power for the benefit of the sinner, who is first moved by siglit and then by faitli. T remember, when a very small boy, seeing a neiglibour of mine, in whom I had the greatest con- fidence, standing up in the midst of a company of wrestling brethren and sistei's. While talking, all at once he began to tremble and shake, and after shouting once or twice he fell to the ground like a dead man. That scene has been vivid in my mind ever since. I was convinced of the power of religion by what I then saw, more than by all the sermons I had ever heard. We have said so much on the subject of these outward demonstrations of the Spirit, not only because the Spirit has seemed to select your humble author as the subject of these 820 TinALS ANIJ TKUMI'Urt IN THE manifestations, but because many lionest (Jhristians are in the fog on this subject, and the devil will try to make them believe, that because they are not operated upon in the same manner they have no religion, or that those who are thus exercised must be deluded hypocrites or enthusiasts. It is a will- ing subject that the pschologist generally selects to test his power upon ; even so, unless a Christian is willing to be used by the great Eternal in any way or shape, or even, like tlie Apostle Paul, to become a fool for Christ's sake, he will not be as likely to be a chosen subject. This rule cannot be considered invariable ; for in the history of the Church we liave frequent accounts of ■^^■lcked men arrested by the ]>ower of the Holy Ghost without the agency of (heir own wills in the matter at »all. There were two cases that occurred, about the time I was con- verted, in Cumberland, Maryland. As an illustra- tion of this power, permit me to tell the story. A wealthy young lawyer, one of the Virginia bloods, and withal a very clever fellow, married a very proud young lady, and moved into Cumberland with his mother-in-law, an Episcopalian lady. Alto- gether they took about as much room on the side- walk as there was any particular need of. About this time a powerful revival commenced in that place. The power of God was manifest in bringing sinners to the feet of Jesus. One evening this royal trio came at the hour appointed for preaching, and took one of the front seats, where they might gratify LIFE OF (I. \V. IIENKV. 327 their curiosity by a fair view of the tantrums per- formed by the deluded Methodists ; but, some how or other, the Holy Ghost found its way into their pew, and persuaded the mother that there was something in religion besides form and ceremony, and she came forward to the altar and knelt down among the servants and common people, and began with all her might to ciy for mercy. This enraged the royal tigress, and she pounced out of the pew, and after pouring some severe epithets into the ear of her raothei', she demanded of her the key of the house, declaring that she would not stay there to be disgraced. As she took the key, she fell prostrate on the flooi'. Satins, ruffles, rings, reputation and aristocracy were all rolling on the flooi- together. Her husband and friends, as soon as she gathei-ed a little strength, attempted to assist her towards the i AND THU MHII.S IN' THK (Jo(l unto full salvation, but that in the {?osi>el all are bi-Qught upon a level — the poor man rejoicing in that he is exalted, and the i-ich in that he is made low. There are some kinds of fish that cannot be caught witli a hook or net. The only way is to spear them. Such was the case with Saul of Tarsus, and so it seemed with the individual just mentioned. 1 need not say that a glorious reformation followed in that place. I will mention one other peculiar case of the dis- play of God's power upon a good old lady, near tiie same town, amounting to something like a miracle. She was one who had been made perfect through suftering, not having been able to walk for several years. A camp-meeting was to be held near by, and she liungered and thirsted for the great feast. Her friends took her to the ground in a carriage, and as she was somewhat deaf, the carriage was draM'n close to the door of the preachers' stand ; and while the anointed of the Lord was telling of the glories of a crucified Redeemer, the flood-gates of glory seemed to be raised upon her soul, and leap- ing into the preachers' stand with the strength and agility of youth, she shouted at the top of her voice, " Double glory ! double glory !" God had said unto her, as he did to one of old, " In the name of Jesus of Nazareth rise up and walk." When asked what she meant by " double glory," she said, when God converted and sanctified her soul, she shouted glory ! LIFE OF 0. W. HENRY. 329 l>nt now he had liealed soul and body too, and she was determined to g-ivo him double glory. Yes, reader, if all the shouts of glory tliat go up from the redeemed of the whole earth could be collected into one, the sound would make heaven's arches ring ; but in the resurrection, when soul and body shall be united, there will be cause for double glory, and then shall be heard the voice of a great multitude, and as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of mighty thunderings, saying. Alleluia, for the Lord God omnipotent reignetli ! Let us be glad and rejoice, and give honour to him, for the marriage of the Lamb is come, and his wife hath made herself ready." CHAPTER XXX. Although we have enough before us of our last two years' rich experience to spread over fifty pages, yet we have already so far transcended what we origin- ally intended, that we must abridge or wholly pass by many trials and triumphs in the closing part of our narrative. In September, 1851, our annual camp- meeting was held in the town of Western. It chanced to be on the same week as the great book- auction in New- York, where I made my annual purchases for school district-libraries. Thus I was in a strait between two. I should have lost no time 330 TRIALS ANIJ TRU'MI'IIS IN TlIK ill deciding, however, had not circumstances oecuiTed that ;uade it my duty to be at home. My wife presented me Avith the lovely black-eyed boy that you see in her arms, (see frontispiece,) and he is now running about the floor, quite a revenue to our earthly joys, and another light for the blind man's path. We come now to the last winter of ray narrative. Having sent an agent to the auction, I had a large amount of books on hand, and my prospects for success were as brilliant as in former days, when I was pulling down the Alleghany Mountains and tumbling them into the deep valleys, making a highway for the iron-horse to pass over their rugged lieights. I had purchased a fine horse to carry on my business, and having made extensive contracts with trustees of schools, I was just ready to take the tide of fortune at the flood, when an old acquaint- ance came and stood by me, and with his sharp shears clipped the wings of my fond anticipations, so that instead of flying I found myself compelled to take it on foot again. This old friend you have been introduced to several times while I was travelling in Egypt, under the cognomen of " Bad Luck." But I never will call him by that name again, for he has, doubtless, been sent by a kind Providence to hedge up my wa)' from the whirlpool of earthly riclies and honour, lest they lead me to future perdition; for lie who saw the end from the beginning hath said, " Hardly shall a HKK OF C. W. IIKNKV. Jj."? I rich man outer into tlie kingdom of iieaven." There are some creatures so unruly that they cannot be kept where they belong, only b)' tying them head to foot and hanging a board before their eyes. This is something like my case. Unless my rising ambition is fettered and blindfolded, I am sure to overleap the limits prescribed by my wise Master; therefore, instead of calling him "Bad Luck," or " Old Foe," as formerly, I shall ever regard hira as an angel of mercy, like the one that stood in the way of the money-loving Balaam. 0 Lord, let me wear these tokens of a kind Father's love with meekness and patience until the appearing of the great day, when all bands shall be broken, the eyes of the blind shall see, the tongue of the dumb shall be unloosed, and the feet of the lame shall walk, (ilory to God for the prospect ! But I have outrun my story. Please go back with me to the spring of 1852. You see me with my pencil, figuring about fifteen hinidred or two thousand dollars of school district-library money, which was expected to come into the hands of the trustees about the first of April. We had a noble young horse, worth about a hundred dollars. But while I was building air-castles, an acquaintance entered and informed me that the legislature had turned the library-money into another channel, leaving a mere pittance scarcely worth picking up in the hands of the trustees. So here I was buried up, comparatively, in cart-loads of books, without any prospect of selling. Besides, 332 TRIALS AND TRIfMPHS IN THE I was owing for a good portion of them in New- York., Soon after this I sent my boy with the horse to take a friend to Richfield Springs. He returned the next day with the halter in his liand, telling me that the horse had died that morning about sunrise. The lip of my sick wife began to quiver a little, and a tear or two stole down her cheek; but to my view a bright star of promise arose, and I heard Jesus gently whispering in my ear, " Fear not ; I know thy works, and thy tribula- tion, and thy poverty ; but thou art rich." After speaking a few words of encouragement to my wife, telling her that I was perfectly assured that all these things would work together for our good, because I knew we loved the Lord, I ascended the ladder that led to the garret of ray cabin. I knelt there before the throne, and instead of saying this evil is of the Lord, I cast a retrospective glance. I thought of his mercies to me even while I was a rebel against him in Egypt, and of the wonderful deliverances the year I was in the slough of despond, then the hour of pardon, and so on till I received full absolution, and how my property with my sight all took wings and flew away ten years ago, yet I had never lacked to this day any of the comforts of life. My barrel of meal and cruse of oil had never been empty; and if I had any complaints to make, it ought to be against myself, that so unworthy a re- cipient should fare so sumptuously; and I prayed God to forbid that I should be like the ancient LIFJE OF U. W. IIEMIV. 333 Israelite who murmured against God, even while his mouth was filled with the flesh of the delicious quail. 0, what a sacred spot was this to my soul ! The Spirit pointed mo to Job, and reminded me how the Lord "blessed the latter end of Job more than his beginning." O the exceeding great and precious promises ! I arose fi-om my knees, and came down from Mount Tabor, fully believing that good would come out of our affliction. In the summer of 1849 I lost a horse by disciise that cost twenty-five dollars ; and in the winter of 1850 I had one stolen that cost forty -five dollars ; and now, m the winter of 1852, I lost this one that cost me eighty dollars. And now we see that wise Hand that moves all the machinery of providence, causing a resurrection of my three horses. God put it into the hearts of my friends and neighbours to circulate a subscription to remunerate me for the loss of my horse. The Holy Ghost, going a little in advance of the petition, prepared the hearts of the people, so that when the petition came they were ready to open their pockets and give their money as freely as the mouth of the fish yielded up the tribute-money for Peter. A strange place one would think to find a purse floating about in the sea. When the money was brought to me, the amount did not vary one dollar from the cost of the three horses. Little did I think the death of one horse would be the resurrection of three. So let us " trust in the Lord and do good, and verily" we shall " be 334 THlALa AND TKIUilPllS IN THE fed." About this time I bad a good opportunity to excbange my library-books for Fox's Book of Mar- tyrs, which had lately been revised, making a splendid book, about the size of a large family Bible, containing fifty-five quarto engravings; and, strange to tell, I sold from four to five hundred dollars worth in a very short time, within five miles of the village of Frankfort. I also sold about one hundred dollars worth of books to libraries. And thus far the Lord has been my helper. Another little providence I will mention to the praise of Him who lias said, " If God so clothe the grass of the field, which to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith ?" I had lost my over-coat, or had it stolen from me. But the eye of Him who tempers the wind to the sliorn lamb, witnessed my necessity, and he at once sent a messenger with a much better coat than I lost, which fitted me to a T. It had belonged to old father Bradt, of the town of Schuyler, wlio had lately finished his pilgrimage upon earth. His widow had at first made a different disposition of the coat, but afterward, though she had never heard of my loss, she said the Spirit ga-\'e her no rest until she had sent for it and directed her son Peter to bring it to me. I received it directly from the Lord, like the old woman I heard of once, who was one morning overheard by a wicked man praying- for bread to save her from starvation. The infidel, thinking to have a little fun, ran home, and taking LIFE Ob C. W. IIKNKV. 335 two large loaves of bread, returned to the cabin, crept softly up, and tumbled the loaves down the chimney. Peeping through a crevice, he saw the old lady, her eyes swimming with tear-s of gratitude, pick up the bread, and eat it, giving hearty thanks to God. The wicked man bellowed out, " You old fool, you need n't thank God for that bread, for / brought it to you." The old saint replied, " that it made no diftercnce to her if the devil brought it ; she knew that the Lord sent it." About this time my brother-in-law. Judge Wright, the proprietor of an extensive flouring establishment in Logausport, Indiana, hearing of our misfortunes, told us that as long as he owned tlie mill he would furnish us with all the flour we needed ; and he has been as good as his word. Another channel of benevolence I ought not to fail to mention, — Mr. L. M. Brown, the youngest brother of my wife, a merchant, in Lafayette, Lidi- ana, who occasionally slips a five or ten dollar note into a letter, which finds a more than welcome in the cabin of the poor. How glad I am that my Heavenly Father has directed his recording angel to credit all these things to my benevolent friends, even to the giving a cup of cold water in the name of a disciple. " His stores arc open .all aud free To such as truly upright be ; Water and bread he '11 give lor food, And all things else he sees is good. 336 TRIALS AND TKILMI'HS IN TJIE " Then do not seek, with anxious care, What you shall eat, or drink, or wear ; Your Heavenly Father will you feed ; He knows that all these things you need. " Without reserve give Christ your heart ; Let him his righteousness impart ; Then all things else he '11 freely give ; With him you all things shall receive." Aineii ! My soul is a witness to the truth of these Ihies. Truly might the apostle say, that the promises are yea and amen in Christ Jesus. But while we remember with gratitude our kind fi'iends through whom, as a medium, God convej's temporal bless- ings to his needy children, we cannot help reflect- ing, that many who give their goods to feed the poor will miss of heaven at last, because they have made a Saviour of their good works. Let us be careful to remember that " there is none other name under heaven given among men whereby we must be saved," but the name of Jesus. I am reminded of another little circumstance, which claims a place in this golden chain of provi- dences. It was but a few days since, as I was getting ready on Saturday to go to Rome poor- house, a distance of twenty-seven miles, to preach the gospel, the tempter whispered in my ear, " You have no money to spare on such occasions." Here I found it necessary to climb up the ladder that led to the garret of my cabin, and tell my Heavenly Father all about ni)' troubles. He listened to me kindly, and graciously permitted me to pour all my LIFE OK (i. W. ilKXKV. .337 ti'onltlos into his hosom. I came down from my sanctum, feeling assured that tlie Lord would not suffer me to go a warfare. at my own charges. I set out at once, and in a few minutes the iron-hoi-sc landed us in the village of Rome. I had not been there long, before some individual met me with a friendly salutation, and, giving me a hearty shake of the hand, passed on, leaving a five-dollar note in my hand. I know not w ho he w as, or from whence he came ; probably I never shall, until the books are opened above. ]>ut 1 fully believe that it came }\s directly from God as did the meat and bread that was brought to Elijah by the ravens. My fare on the cars was only one dollar, but I have always found the Lord a good paymaster. It is the pure in heart that can plainly see the hand of God in lesser a.s well as in gi-oater blessings, and thankfully acknowledge him in all liis ways. Reader, I ba^■e been relating to you the kind dealings of my Heavenly Fatlier to me for the last year of my narrative. The few incidents I have given you have been selected from many like provi- dences, and are characteristic of God's deaUngs with me since I entered into his gracious service, although I did not see them so plainly while travelling in twilight, as I have since I entered the land of Beulah. And I solemnly believe, that if I prove faithful to Him that hath called me, sooner than I should lack the comforts of life, God would place a key in one of my haiids, and his draft in the other, 338 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE and, with the full assurance of faith, I could unlock the he^rt, the pocket, or the granary of the various misers on earth. I wish to say a word here to my local brethren in the ministry. Satan will tempt you that you are working for nothing. Remember what St. Peter says, and you will at once detect his falsehood : " Feed the flock of God which is among you, taking the oversight thereof, not by constraint, but willingly ; not for filthy lucre, but of a ready mind ; neither as being lords over God's heritage, but being ensam- ples to the flock: and when the chief Shepherd shall appear, ye shall receive a crown of glory that fadeth not away." CHAPTER XXXI. I AM often astonished when I look back upon the first part of my Christian pilgrimage, and reflect upon my stupidity and blindness upon the great subjects of temperance and slavery. Although the curtain of my moral vision has been gradually rolling up, yet I think I never saw these two huge mon- sters, this Gog and Magog, in their true light until within the last three years. During the fifteen years that I was engaged on public works, I presume to say that very few men followed more drunkards to the grave than I did. LIFE OF 0. W. HENRY. 339 PioViably ten thousand dollars would not purchase the liquor that was drank mthin that time by those in my employ. Alas ! how indifferent one may become by con- stant familiarity with scenes of drunkenness, de- bauchery, and death. I thank God that he has fully awakened me to a sense of my responsibility as a man and a Christian. St. James informs us that " pure religion, and inidefiled before God, is to visit the fatherless and the widow in their affliction ;" and then, as if aware that in searching out the abodes of poverty, we should come in contact witli vice and comiption, he adds, " keep yourselves un- spotted from the world." Visit the widow in her affliction; not when her quarter's I'ent is due, to pinch fi-om her hard-earned pittance your claim, but visit her to reheve, to console, and to instruct in righteousness. There are thousands that alcohol has robbed of a kind father and husband, house and home, and all the comforts that make life de- sirable; and while you are administering comfort, and wiping away the tear of sorrow, keep youi-self "unspotted from the world." Xot by avoiding them, and passing by on the other side, as if you would say, "I am better than thou ;" but by follow- ing Christ's example, who ate and drank with pubUcans and sinners, seeking thereby to instil into their minds his pure and righteous principles. It was from reflections such as these that I decided to join the Sons of Temperance. Afv motive was not 340 TRIALS AND TdUTMPIIS IN THE to mutain the Division, as an abstract tiling, but to laboni\for the cause of the poor; believing, as I do, that the Sons are nobly engaged in efforts to relieve the widowed and orphaned sufierers of their common enemy, alcohol. We have often proved that " union is strength." We find it so in our Church organiza- tions. As a body, we can accomjjlish more in the work of saving souls, than we coidd do separately. The same is true of the Order to which we have referred. Let us glance for a moment at the call for la- bourers in this vineyard. There is in our own village a distillery converting annually twenty tliou- sand bushels of breadstuff", which God in his mercy has provided to sustain life, into an instrument of death, fitted to carry the fires of hell into the peace- ful abodes of thousands of femilies. WHierever it goes, there rests a blighting curse. Thousands of tender liearts, interwoven by the ties of consanguinity and holy affection, are torn asunder and left bleed- ing. O when God comes to make inquisition for blood, shall it not cry unto him from the ground? ]3ut this is not all. Eight or ten established rum- holes are actively engaged, most of them seven days in the week, in spreading the work of death and black damnation. Our division of brave Sons, who are a detachment from a standing army of more than thirty-five thousand, have thrown tliemselves into the breach, and while witli one hand they wage war against LIFE OF O. W. HEXKV. 341 the invader of our peaceful homes, the other is stretched out to protect the defenceless and relieve the suftering. Such was my eiTand in joining the Sons of Temi>erance ; and if I have got a religion that will not sustain me on any errand of mercy, I had better part Avith it and procure the genuine article. Thus far the Lord has led me on. I carry my religion into the Division and bring it out again, and find use for it while I am there too. I have nailed my flag to the mast, praying that God would give us tlie Maine law, or something as eSectual, in putting an end to this work of death. The prayers and gi-oans of the widow and orphan, I fully be- lieve, liave already entered into the ear of the Loi-d of Sabaoth, and the fiery hand-writing of Almighty God is on the walls of King Alcohol, " Mene, Tekel." Amen I let the temperance ball roll on like the stone cut out of the moimtain without hands, until it shall fill the whole earth. Reader, I have only given you an inkling of my views upon temperance, although there is enough pent up in my soul to fill a volume ; and if there were any danger of becoming indifferent on this sub- ject, I have only to go to Herkimer and Oneida County poor-houses, to keep the fire of holy indigna- tion burning. " At the last it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder." In regard to the great subject of slavery, so much ha-s been said, and .said so well too, that but little 342 TRIALS AiNU TUlLMl'ilS IN THE remains for me. I will, however, " define my jjosi- tion." , I have spent years at the South, and seen slavery in its various forms. Yet, when I came North, I brought with me a prosy, sleepy indiflfer- eiice to the all-absorbing subject of human freedom, and said, by my actions, if not in words, " Am I my brother's keeper ?" But, when heaven's pure day took the place of twilight, I think I saw every man in his true light. I saw the unenviable position of the slaveholder on the one hand, and the miseries and tears of the oppressed on the other. I felt the force of what St. Paul says to his Hebrew brethren, " Ee- member them that are in bonds as bound with them." And when I addressed the throne of grace in private or in public, the oppressed slave, as well as the poor drunkard and his family, were remem- bered in ray petition. I cannot resist the tempta- tion, at this point, to quote from Mrs. Stowe, who, I have no doubt, has been instrumental in doing more for the cause of the oppressed African, — more, at least, in bringing about a healthy public opinion upon this subject, — than all the grave legislators and pi-ofound divines that ever undertook to exhibit its horrid abuses. We take the extract from St. Clare's conversation with his Vermont cousin, page 10, vol. ii. " On this abstract question of slavery there can, as I Lliink, be but one opinion. Planters, who have money to make by it, — clergymen, who have planters to please,- — i)oliticians, who want to rule by it, — may warp and bend language and ethics to a LLFE OF (J. W. IlEMCV. 343 degree tliat shall astonish the world at their in- genuity ; they can press nature and the Bible, and nobody knows what else, into the service ; but, after all, neither they nor the world believe in it one l)article the more. It comes from the devil, that 's the short of it; and, to my mind, it's a pretty respectable specimen of wliat he can do in his own line This cursed business, accursed of God and man, what is it ? Strip it of all its ornament, nm it down to the root and nucleus of the whole, and what is it ? Why because my brother Quashy is ignorant and weak, and I am intelligent and strong, — because I know how, and can do it, — therefore I may steal all he has, keep it, and give him only such and so much as suits ray fancy. Whatever is too hard, too dii-ty, too disagreeable for me, I may set Quashy to doing. Because I don't like work, Quashy shall work. Because the sun burns me, Quashy shall stay in the sun. Quashy shall earn the money, and I M ill spend it. Quashy shall lie down in every puddle, that I may walk over dry-shod. Quashy shall do my will, and not his, all the days of his mortal life, and have such chance of getting to heaven at last as I find conve- nient. This I take to be about what slavery is. I defy anybody on earth to read our slave-code as it stands on our law-books, and make anything else of it. Talk of the abuses of slavery 1 Humbug ! The thinf/ itself is the essence of all abuse ! And the only reason why the land don't sink under it, ;i44 TKIALS AND TKIL'MI'HS IN THE like Sodom and Gomoi rali, is, because it is tised in a way infinitely better than it is." Mrs. Stowe has given us the sum and substance of the thing, though some of us who had seen its workings years ago, needed the baptism of a pure heart before we were fully awake to the truth of the great precept, " Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them." As for me, I felt that woe would be unto me if I did not lift up my voice as a trumpet, to wake up a drowsy Church, who are like the baggage-wagons of an array, far in the rear. Alas ! liow many Christians are at this day like Lazarus, standing by the edge of a sepulchre, wrapt about with grave-clothes, his hands and feet boimd, and a napkin over his eyes. They are brought to life, it is true ; but they might as well be in their graves, as regards usefulness to others. They are wrapt about with bigotry, their hands and feet bound with a strong desire for the world's applause, and a curtain of unbelief over their eyes. O Lord, speak the second time, Loose them and let them go. Let them go into the abodes of misery and wretchedness. They will find subjects enough that have been robbed of their money and of gospel privileges, lying half dead where the priest and the Levite have passed them by. Eaise them up, pour the oil of consolation into the wounded spii-it, and get out your pence to minister to their earthly comforts. You will find that money laid out for the benefit of the poor, in God's name, will LIFE OF G. W. IIENKY. 345 be better stock than any of earth's corporations can produce. But you must be willing to trust the Lord, to lay out your property in the way that he sees will be most to your advantage. If he does not return it four-fold in dollars and cents, it is because he sees that riches would be a snare to you. But he makes it all up in riches of grace. Sooner or later it will all come home to you. The Avidow's two mites, and the two-pence of the good Samar- itan, have been on interest more than eighteen hundred years, and the bank of heaven never breaks. O, who is like unto the God of Jacob? Who can do for his favourites like Israel's God ? ( ) wicked man, where are now tlie idols in which thou hast trusted? Ambitious Haman, where is now thine idol, honour? Did he stand by thee upon the gallows ? O rich glutton, that madest a god of pleasure, will he whom thou hast served give thee back thy wasted substance? O sensual worldling, that knowest not where to bestow thy goods, do riches profit thee ? Could mammon save thee ? Deceived souls ! apply now to the gods that ye have chosen. Alas ! they cannot give one drop of water to cool your parched tongue. But the portion of Jacob is not like them. From everlast- ing to everlasting, he is God. His power is my confidence ; his goodness is my maintenance ; his truth is my shield and buckler. And now, reader, we arc approaching the close of our narrative. We have been talking of liigh and holy things, and 34G TRIALS AND TKIUiU'llS IN TUK they are all true as far as we understand them. The same good Spirit that found me gathering stub- ble, and making brick for Pharaoh, in Egypt, and brought me through the gate of justification, thence onward to the suburbs of the land of Beulah, has been my counsellor and aid in writing this little volume. The apostle has truly said : " The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness unto him : neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned. But he that is spiritual judgeth all things, yet he himself is judged of no man." 1 Cor. ii, 14, 15. So, my unconverted reader, do not set yourself up as a judge of the spiritual part of this volume. Neither can the Christian judge any farther than he has travelled in this highway of holiness. But, says the reader, I doubt whether there was ever a man made perfect on earth. Well, if that is the case we have believed in vain, and our testimony goes over- board. But let us examine : for if we can prove that one man ever arrived at a state of perfection in the flesh, then all may ; otherwise we should make God a respecter of persons. AVe refer now to the per - fection of saints, and not the perfection of God. But let us bring the testimony : " Noah was a just man, and perfect in his generations, and Noah walked with God." Gen. vi, 9. "There was a man in the land of Uz, whose name was Job ; and that man was perfect and upright, and one that feared God and eschewed evil. And the Lord said unto LIVE Of U. \V. ilE.NKV. 347 Satan, *IIast tliou considered my servant Job, that there is none hke him in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, one that feareth God and esehew- etli evil.' " Job i, 1 ; ii, 3. " Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright: for the end of that man is peace." Psa. xxxvii, 37. " For the uprightshall dwell in the land, and tlie perfect shall remain in it." Prov. ii, 21. " The righteousness of the perfect shall direct his way, but the wicked shall fall by his own wickedness." Prov. xi, 5. " Howbeit, we speak wisdom among them that are perfect: yet not the wisdom of this world, nor of the princes of this world, that come to naught." 1 Cor. ii, 6. "Let us therefore, as many as be perfect, be thus minded : and if iu anything ye be otherwise minded God shall reveal this unto you." Phil, iii, 15. It is said further in Scripture of Abraham, that " by his works, his faith Avas made perfect ;" and again it is said by St. James, that " if any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man ;" and also, " Whoso keepeth his word, in him verily is the love of God perfected." We might bring hundreds of witnesses spoken of by Wesley and others ; but if my reader will reject the above testimony from Scripture, he would reject a thousand witnesses that had arisen from the dead to con\-incc him ; and worse thtui that, he will probably reject the blessing itself Mr. Wesley has truly said, " To overdo is to undo, and to set the standard of perfection too high is to throw it out of the Church and out of the 348 TRIALS AXD TRIUMPHS liN THE world." I should quite as soon Lave an enemy shoot a bullet an inch over my head, as an inch under my feet. So with the great adversary of our souls : if he can get the standard of holiness a little above or a little beneath the Bible standard, it mat- ters little which so that his end is gained. A miss is as good as a mile, as far as his purpose is concerned. We must be made perfect in order to prepare us for a thrifty growth, that every limb on the spiritual tree may bend with fruit unto holiness, the end of which is everlasting life. Bring me the man who has become so wise that he cannot become any wiser. You cannot do it. Bring me the man so good that he cannot become any better. You cannot find him. You cannot fill a man's mind with knowledge until it cannot hold any more. On the contrary, every new acquisition of truth only serves to enlarge the capacity of liis mind for the comprehension of more truth ; so that the more he knows, the more he is in a condition to learn. And the same is true of his progress in virtue. If he overcame one bad habit yesterday, he has increased power to overcome another bad habit to-day. If he brought into exercise one new virtue yesterday, his power is not lessened but increased, to practise another new virtue to-day ; and so on without any assignable limits. The Bible fixes no limits; our nature fixes none ; neither reason nor imagination can fix any. But this ability involves the obliga- tion to go on. If he stops, no matter in what stage UFK OF (;. W. HEXRV. of his progress, he goes backward ; for in stopping ]\c ceases to improve ; and this is not merely not to obey, it is to disobey. He must go on ; and thus it is, and only thus, that the path of the righteous grows brighter and brighter unto the perfect day. But we do not stop here. A still higher degree of perfection awaits the truly faithful. O, is it not a glorious thought that we can begin the career of angels and archangels in these dwellings of dust, and when they shall be dissolved, " be clothed upon with our house which is from heaven ?" But who shall dare to anticipate, even in imagination, tlie stupendous disclosures that are to burst upon the dis- embodied spirit ? Of one thing we may be sure, — a never-ending, ever-brightening career of knowl- edge, improvement and happiness awaits tlie fol- lowers of Christ. It is the same which we have begun here ; and still as ages roll on a voice Avill be heard along the innumerable ranks of the heavenly host proclaiming the law, "Let iis go on unto perfection." OR, CAMP-MEETING HYMNS, OLD AND NEW. Set to XIT tt s i c. SELECTED BY G. W. HENRY, Al'TllOB OF "EGVPT, TWILIGHT, AND B E U L A H." Anil ho lialli put n new <:ong in niy nioutli. — Psa. xl, .1. SPIRITUAL SONGS. THE LIFE OF A CHRISTIAX. A MixTLKK ofjoy and trouble I daily do pass through, Sometimes I'm in a valley sinking dovm with woe ; Sometimes I am exalted, on eagle's wings I fly, I rise above old Pisgah, and almost reach the sky. Sometimes I am a doubting, and think I have no grace ; Sometimes I am a shouting, and Bethel is the place ; Sometimes my hope 's so little I think I'll throw it by ; Sometimes it is sufficient, if I were call'd to die. Sometimes I shun the Christian, for fear he'll talk to me ; Sometimes he is the neighbour 1 long the most to Sometimes we meet together, the season's di-y and dull ; Sometimes we find a blessing, with joy it fills my soul. Sometimes I am oppress'd by Pharaoh's cruel hand ; Sometimes I look o'er Jordan, and view the prom- ised land ; Sometimes I am in darkness, sometimes I'm in the light; Sometimes my soul takes wings ot taith, and then speed my flight. ■1 Sl'IKlTLAL SONUS;. Sometimes I go a mouiuing down Babylon's cold stream ; Sometimes my Lord's religion appears to be my theme ; Sometimes when I am praying, it seems almost a task ; Sometimes I find a blessing, the greatest I can ask. Sometimes I read my Bible, and 'tis a sealed book; Sometimes I find a blessing wherever I do look ; Sometimes I go to meeting, and wish myself at home ; Sometimes I meet my Jesus, and then I'm glad I come. Lord, why am 1 thus tossed, thus tossed to and fro ? Why are my hopes thus crossed wherever I do go ? O Lord, thou never changest, but 't is because I stray ; Lord, grant me thine assistance, and keep me in thy way. THE MEAL AND CRUSE OF OIL. By the poor widow's oil and meal Elijah was sustain'd ; Though small the stock, it lasted well, For God the store maintain'd. It seem'd as if from day to day. They were to eat and die ; But still, though in a secret way. He sent a fresh supply. Thus to his poor he still will give Just for the present hour ; But, for to-morrow, they must live y Upon his woid and power. sriKlTl AL SOXGb. 5 No bam or storehouse they possess On which they can depend, Yet have no cause to fear distress. For Jesus is their friend. Then let not doubts your mind assail ; Remember, God has said, " The cruse and barrel shall not fail. My people shall be fed." And thus, though faint it often seems. He keeps their gi-ace alive ; Supplied by his retieshiug streams. Their dying hopes revive. Though in ourselves we have no stock, The Lord is nigh to save ; His door flies open when we knock, And 'tis but ask and have. A BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF THE CHILDREN OF GOD, IN A DIALOGUE. AVh.\t poor despised company Of travellei-s are these, That walk in yonder narrow way. Along that nigged maze I Ah ! these are of a royal line, xVll children of a King ; Heirs of immortal crowns divine, And lo ! for joy they sing. Why do thoy then appear so mean, And why so much despised ? Because of tlieir rich robes unseen The world is not apprised. 6 il'lKlTl AL rtUMiH. But some of them seem poor, And lacking daily bread ; Ah ! they 're of boundless wealth i)Ossess'd, AVith hidden manna fed. But why keep they that narrow i-oad. That rugged thor.ny maze ? Why that's the way their Leader trod — They love and keep His ways. Why must they shun the pleasant path That worldlings love so well ? Because that is the road to death, The open road to hell. What ! is there then no other road. To Salem's happy ground ? Christ is the only way to God — None other can be found. A WARNING TO SINNERS. When pity prompts mo to look round Upon this fellow clay, See men reject the gospel sound, Good God ! what shall I say ? My bowels yearn for dying men, Doom'd to eternal woe ; Fain would I speak, but 'tis in vain. If God does not speak too. 0 ! sinners, sinners, won't you heai-, When in God's name I come ? Upon your peril don't forbear. Lest hf;Il should be your doom. .Vow is tlic time, the acoeptfil lionr, O I sinnei-s, come away ; Tlie Saviom- *s knocking at your door, Arise, without delay. 0 ! do n't refuse to give him room, Lest mercy should withdraw ; He '11 then in robes of vengeance come. To execute Iiis law. Then wliere, poor mortals, will you be, If destitute of grace. When you your injured Judge shall see. And stand before liis face i < ) I could you shun that dreadful sight. How woidd you wish to fly To the dark shades of endless nigiit. From that all-searching eye ? But death and liell must all appear. And you among them stand. r>efore the great impartial bar, Arraign'd at Christ's left hand. No yearning bowels — pity then Shall not alfect my heart ; No, I shall surely say Amen When Christ bids you depart. Let not these warnings be in vain. But lend a list'ning ear. Lest you should meet them all again Wlifu wra]>t in keen despair. SI'IRITUAI. SOXGS. SAW YE MY SAVIOUR ? Saw ye my Saviour ? Saw ye my Sa\aour ? Saw ye ray Saviour and God ? O ! he died on Calvary, To atone for you and me, And to purchase our pardon with blood. He was extended ! he was extended ! Painfully nailed to the cross ; O ! he bow'd his head and died ! Thus my Lord was crucified. To atone for a world that was lost. Jesus hung bleeding ! Jesus hung bleeding ! Three dreadful hours m pain ; And the solid rocks were rent Through creation's vast extent, When the Jews crucified God's dear Son. Darkness prevailed ! darkness prevailed ! Dai'kness prevail'd o'er the land ; And the sun refused to shine, When His Majesty divine Was derided, insulted, and slain. When it was finish'd — when it was finish'd. And the atonement was made, He was taken by the great. And embalm'd with spices sweet. And in a new sepulchre was laid. Hail, mighty Saviour ! hail, mighty Saviour ! The Prince and Author of Peace ! O ! he burst the bands of death. And triumphant from the earth He ascended to mansions of bliss. siPIRITl AL SOXtiS. 9 There interceding — there interceding ! Pleading that sinners may live — Crying, " Father, I have died ! O, behold my hands, my side ! O, forgive them, I pray thee, forgive." " I will forgive them ! I will forgive them I If they '11 rei3ent and believe ; Let them now come unto thee, And be reconciled to me, And salvation they all shall receive." SCEPTIC, SPARE THAT BOOK • Sceptic, spare that Book ! Touch not a single leaf ! Nor on its pages look With eye of unbelief ; 'T was my forefathers' stay In the hour of agony ; Sceptic, go thy way. And let that old IBook be ! That good old Book of Life For centuries has stood Unharm'd, amid the strife, When the earth was drunk with blood : And wouldst thou harm it now. And have its truths forgot ? Sceptic, forbear thy blow, Thy hand shall harm it not ! Its very name recalls The happy hours of youth. When, in my grandsire's halls, I heard its tales of truth : 10 si-mnuAi. t;o.\G.s 1 've seen liis white hair flow O'er that volume as lie read ; But that was long ago, And the good old man is dead. My dear grandmother, too, When I was but a hoy — T 've seen her eye of blue Weep o'er it teare of joy ; Their traces linger still, And dear they are to me : Sceptic, forego thy will ; Go, let that old Book be ! THE GOSPEL STEAMER. I RECEIVED a gospel letter, From gloiy lately come. That my passage over Jordan Was purchased by the Lamb. Chorus. — Yes, we '11 land on Canaan's shore ; O, he '11 land us on the .shore ; Yes, we 'II land on Canaan's shore, And be safe forever more. I step'd on board the steamer Constructed by the Lord — Prepared to sail that very day He spill'd his precious blood : Her bulwarks are of lo\e divine — My Saviour is the door ; Our garments are of linen fine, Both lovely, wliite and pure. SI'lKITl Al. SOKtiS. u Against both wind and weather This glorious steamboat sails — The Holy Spirit driveth her With sAveet and pleasant gales. O, we have a band of music, That charnieth us along — This tune we play along the way, " Come, sinners, join the song." I took my gospel telescope To view the promised land — On the other side of Jordan I saw the precious Lamb. When I set out for glory I had Jesus in my view — But now I have liim in my heart, And glory I '11 pursue. And when we reach that happy land All heaven will rejoice ; For the lovely name of Jesus Shall soimd from every voice. We'll stand upon the sea of glass, All mingled too with fire — And there we'll all shout victory, And join the heavenly choir. CHRIST IN THE GARDEN. When nature was sinking in stillness to rest. And the sun's fading beams shone dim in the west, O'er fields, by the moonlight, to a lonely glade. In deep meditation I wandering- stray'd. SPIRITUAL SON(.><. While passing a garden a sound struck my ear, A ^•oicQ faint and falt'ring from one that was near; The voice of a mourner affected my heart, One pleading in anguish the poor sinner's part. Tn off 'ring to Heaven his agonized prayer, He spoke of the torments the sinner must bear ; His life, as a ransom, he offer'd to give, That sinners, redeem'd, in glory might live. I listen'd a moment, then tum'd to see What Man of Compassion this stranger could be ; When, lo ! I discover'd, knelt on the cold earth, The loveliest being that ever had birth. His mantle was wet with the dews of the night, His locks, by the moonliglit, were glist'niug and bright ; llis tear-bedimm'd eyes towards heaven were raised, While angels, in wonder, stood round him amazed. So deep was his sorrow, so fervent he pray'd, That blood from each pore with sweat mingled and stray'd : I wopt to behold him, and ask'd him his name ; He answer'd, " 'T is Jesus ! — fi-om heaven I came. " I am thy Redeemer — for thee I must die : The cup is most painful, but cannot pass by ; Thy sins like a mountain are laid upon me. And all this deep anguish I suffer for thee !" 1 heard with attention the tale of his woe. While tears like a fountain of waters did flow ; Tiie cause of his sorrow, to hear him repeat, Affected my heart, and I fell at his feet. sinRnr.M. soxiis. 13 I trembled with terror, and loiull)' ditl cry, " Lord I save :i poor siuner ? — O save, or I die !" He cast his eyes on me, and whispered, " Live ! Tliy sins which are many I freely forgive !" How sweet was that moment he bade me rejoice ! His smiles, O how pleasant I how cheering his voice ! I fled fi-om the garden to spread it abroad ; I shouted " Salvation I — O glory to God !" I 'm now on my journey to mansions above, My soul 's full of glory, of peace, light and love ; I think of the garden, the prayer and the tears Of that lo\nng stranger who banish'd my fears. The day of bright glory is rolling around. When Gabriel descending, the trumpet shall sound — My soul then in raptures of glory A\nll rise To ga/.e on the stranger with unclouded eyes. CHRIST'S CRUCIFIXION. The Son of Man they did betray. He was condemn'd and led away ! Think, O my soul, on that dread day — Look on Mount Calvary I Behold him, lamb-like, led along, Sun-ounded by a wicked throng. Accused by each lying tongue, As then the Lamb of God they hung Upon the shameful tree I 'Twas thus the glorious suff'rer stood, With liands and feet nail'd to the wood ; From ev'ry wound a stream of blood Came tiowing down amain : 14 SIMKIITAI. SONCiS. His bitter groans all nature shook, And at his voice the rocks were broke, The sleeping saints their graves forsook, While spiteful Jews around him mockVl And laughed at his pain. Now, hung between the earth and skies. Behold I ill agony he dies ! 0, sinners, hear his mournful cries, See his tormenting pains ! The morning sun withdrew his light, Blush'd, and refused to view the sight ; The azure clothed in robes of night. All nature mourn'd, and stood affright. When Christ the Lord was slain. Hark ! men and angels, hear the Son ! He cries for help — but O, there 's none ; He treads the wine-press all alone. His garments stain'd with blood : [n lamentation hear him crj' " Eloi, lama sabaehthani !" ^ Though death ma)' close his languid eyes. He soon will mount up to the skies, The conq'ring Son of God. The Jews and Romans, in a band, With hearts like steel, around him stand, And mocking, say, " Come, save the land ; Come, try thyself to free I"' A soldier pierced him when he died. Then healing streams came from his side — And thus our Lord was crucified ; Stern justice then was satisfied. Sinner, for you and me ! Sl'IRlTLAL SONUS. 15 Behold, he mounts tlie throne of stale, He fills the mediatorial seat, While millions, bowing at his feet, lu loud hosannas tell How he endured exquisite pains, And led the monster death in chains ; While seraphs raise their loudest strains, With music fill bright Eden's plains — Chidst conquer'd death and hell. 'T is done ! the dreadful debt is paid — The great atonement now is made ! Sinnei-s, on him your guilt was laid, For you he spilt his blood : For you his tender soul did move, For you he left the courts above, That you the lengih and breadth might prove, The height and depth of perfect love. In Christ, yoiir smiling God. Ail glory be to God on high. Who reigns enthroned above the sky. Who sent his Son to bleed and die — Glory to him be given I While heaven above his praise resounds, 0 Zion, sing, his grace aboinids : And there we '11 shout eternal rounds. In glowing love that knows no bounds. When earned up to heaven. THE HEAVENLY PILGRIM. Dark and thorny is the desert Thro' which pilgrims make their way — Yet, beyond this vale of sorrow Lie the fields of endless day : SPIRITL AL SONGS. Fiends, loud howling through the desert, , Make them tremble as they go, And the fiery darts of Satan Often bring their courage low. O, young soldiers, are you weary Of the roughness of the way ? Does your strength begin to fail you, And your vigour to decay ? Jesus, Jesus, will go with you. He will lead you to his throne — He who dyed his garments for you, And the wine-press trod alone ; He, whose thunder shakes creation, He -who bids the planets roll ; He who rides upon the tempest. And whose sceptre sways the whole : Round him are ten thousand angels, Ready to obey command ; They are always hov'ring round you, Till you reach the heavenly land. There, on flow'ry hills of pleasure. Lie the fields of endless rest ; Love, and joy, and peace, forever Reign and triumph in the breast ; Who can paint the scenes of glory. Where the ransom'd dwell on high ? There, on golden harps, forever Sound redemption through the sky ! There, a million flaming seraphs Fly across the heavenly plain — As they sing inimortal praises, Glory, glory, is their strain : 61MU11XAL SONGS. 17 But, luethinks, a sweeter concert Makes the heavenly arches ring, And a song is heard in Zion Which the angels cannot sing. O, their crowns, how bright they sparkle I Such as monaichs never wore ; They are gone to i-icher pastures — Jesus is their Shepherd there : Hail, ye happj'', happy spirits ! Death no more shall make you fear ; Grief nor sorrow, pain nor anguish. Shall no more distress you there. THE WEARY AT REST. Brother, thou art gone before us, and thy saintly soul is flown Where tears are wiped from every eye, and sonow is unknown ; From the burden of the flesh, and fi-om care and fear released, Where the Avicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest. The toilsome way thou'st travell'd o'er, and borne the heavy load, But Christ hath taught thy languid feet to reach his blest abode ; Thou'rt sleeping now, like Lazarus, upon our Fa- ther's breast. Where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary arc at rest. Sill can never taint thee more, nor doubt thy faith assail, Nor thy meek trust in Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit fiiil ; And there tliou 'rt sure to meet the good, whom on earth thou lovedst best, Where tlie wicked cease from troubHng, and the weary are at rest. " Earth to earth," and " dust to dust," the man of God bath said. So we lay the turf above thee now, and seal thy narrow bed ; But thy spirit, brothei', soars away among the faith- ful blest, Where the wicked cease fi-om trdubling, and the weary are at rest. And when the Lord shall summon us, whom thou bast left behind. May we, untainted by the world, as sure a welcome find! May each, like thee, depart in peace, to be a glorious guest. Where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest ! HERE IS A BAND OF BRETHREN DEAR. Here is a band of brethren dear — I will be in this band, hallelujah ; Their leader tells them not to fear — I will be in this band, hallelujah ; I will be in this band, hallelujah. As I was walking out one day. And thinking about ihis good old way. 10 There was a voice which reach'd my soul : Fear not ; I make the wounded whole." My dungeon shook, my chains fell off — My soul, unfetter'd, went aloft. I little thought he wius so nigh — He spoke and made me laugh and crv. Now, bless the Lord ! for I can tell. That Jesus has done all things well. O, shout on, children 1 shout, ye 're fi-ee ! For Christ has bought your liberty I O, bless the Lord I we need not fear, Nor o'er our trials shed a tear. MARCH AROUND JERUSALEM. Mv brother, will you meet me On that delightful shore ? -Mv brother, will you meet me Where parting is no more? Choris. — Then we'll march around Jerusalem, AYe '11 march around Jerusalem, We '11 marcli around Jerusalem, When we arrive at home. O sister, will you meet me On that delightful shore 'i O sister, will you meet me Where parting is no more ? <") leader, will you meet me On that delightful shore ? •2 1 SPIlim AL SONGS. O leader, will you meet me > Where parting is no more ? O preacher, will you meet me On that delightful shore ? ( ) preacher, will you meet mc Where parting is no more ? C) classmate, will you meet me On that delightful shore ? 0 classmate, will you meet me Where parting is no more ? Young convert, will you meet me On that delightful shove ? Young convert, will you meet me Where parting is no more ? O mourner, will you meet me On that delightful sliore ? O mourner, will you meet me Where parting is no more ? Backslider, will you meet me On that delightful shore ? Backslider, will you meet me Wliere parting is no more ? O sinner, will you meet me On that delightful shore ? O sinner, will you meet me Where parting is no more ? Yes, bless the Lord ! I '11 meet you On that delightful shore ; Yes, bless the Lord ! I'll meet you Wlicrf parting is no move. SPIRITLAL SONCS. 21 DIES IR^, The following is an excellent translation of a Latin poem, which has received the enthusiastic encomiums of Goethe, Dr. Johnson, Sir Walter Scott, and other distinguished men. It is said that Dr. Johnson .always wept in reading the tenth stanza. The Earl of Roscommon expired with the seventeenth verse upon his lips. The original was written by a monk, in the thirteenth century. We find the translation in the yetvark Daily Advertiser. Day of wrath, that day of burning All shall melt, to ashes turning, As foretold by seers discerning. II. O what fear shall it engender, When the Judge shall come in .splendour, Strict to mark, and just to render ! III. Trumpet soatt'i'ing sounds of wontler. Rending sepulchres asunder. Shall resistless summons thunder. IV. All aghast then Death shall shiver, And great Nature's frame shall quiver, When the graves their dead deliver. V. Book where ev'ry act's recorded, All events all time afforded, Shall be brought, and dooms awaixled. VI. When shall sit the Judge unerring, He'll unfold all here occurring, No just vengeance then deferring. 22 Sl'IKlTrAl. SO.\(iS. VJI. What shall / say that time pending ? Ask what Advocate's befriending, When the just man needs defending ? vm. King Almighty and All-knomng, Grace to sinners freely showing, Save me, Fount of good o'ertiowing. IX. Think, O Jesu.s, for what reason Thou endur'dst earth's spite and treason, Nor me lose in that dread season. X. Seeking me thy worn feet hasted, (^n the cross thy soul death tasted ; Let such labour not he wasted. XI. liighteous .Judge of retribution. Grant me perfect absolution, Ero. that day of execution. XII. Culprit-like, I — heart all broken, On my cheek shame's crimson token — Plead the pard'ning word be spoken. XIII. Thou who Mary gav'st remission, Heardst the dying thief's petition, (^heer'dst with hope my lost condition. XIV. Though my prayers do nothing merit. What is needful, thou confer it — Lest T endless i\ro inherit. SFIRITLAI, SONGS. XV. Mid the sheep a place decide me, And from goats on left divide me, Standing on the right beside thee. XVI. When th' accure'd away are driven. To eternal burning-s given. Call me with the bless'd to heaven. x\u. 1 beseech thee, prostrate lying, Heart as ixshes contrite, sighing. Care for me when I am dying. XVIII. On thai awful day of wailing, JIuman destinies unveiling, When man rising, stands before thee. Spare the culprit, God of glory ! WE'VE FOUND THE KOCK. We 've found the rock, the trav'llei-s cried O hallo, hallelujah I The stone that all the prophets tried — O halle, hallelujah ! Come, children, drink the balm}' dew — O halle, hallelujah ! 'T was Christ that shed his blood for you— O halle, hallelujah ! This costly mixtni-c cures the soul Which sin and guilt hath made so foul ; O that you would believe in God, And wash in Christ's nicst precious blood 24 Sl-IKIIT AI, 8uxo^;. O hearken, children, Chi ist is come, The bride is ready, let us run ; I 'm glad I ever saw the day That Ave might meet to praise and pray. There 's glory, glory, in my soul — Come, mourner, feel the current roll ; Welcome, dear friends — it's felt to-night, It shines around with dazzling light. And in this light we 'II soar away, AVhere there 's no night but open day ; < ) children, children, bear the cross. And count the world below as dross. We 'II bear the cross, and wear the crown, And by our Father's side sit down ; His grace will feed our hungry souls, While love divine eternal rolls. His fiery chariots make their way. To welcome us to endless day ; There glitt'ring millions we shall join, To praise the Prince of Da\ id's line. THE CHRISTIAN'S FAREWELL. Adieu ! adieu ! I 'm dying now, A deatli-like chill is on my brow ; My hands arc cold, my heart beats fast. Soon, soon, I '11 reach that heavenly rest. Chorus. — This world is not my home. This world is not my home ; This world is all a wilderness. This world is not my home. SI'IKITI Al, SONCb. ■25 Sistci-s, why weep ye ? dry your teai-s ; Death to me now has lost its fears ; I long to gain tli' eternal shore, Where there is joy forever more. Sisters, when spring returns in bloom, 0 place my flowei-s upon my tomb ; And then, at vesper houi-s so sweet, Our souls in unison Avill meet. Brother, I 'm dying : let me go From this vam world of guilt and woe ; Come nearer to my side, loved one — My eyes grow dim, my race is run. Leave thy loud sobs, O dry thy tears, Dispel, dispel, those gloomy fears ; I 'm going to join the host on high. Where pleasures never, never die. Mother and father, nearer come, 1 can but speak in whisper-tone ; O let me kiss your cheeks once more, Then say Farewell forever more. Bright angels now are hov'ring round, They do my humble bed surround : And is this death ? O glorious boon ! Thank Heaven that we may die so soon. Brother and sisters, nearer come, Father and mother, one by one ; O let mc gaze on all once more, TIk'11 spread mv wings for Canaan's shore. THE CHRISTIAN'S SONG. O, BRETHREN, I have found A land that doth abound In fruits as sweet as honey ; The more I eat, I find, The more I am inclined To sing and shout liosanna ! Chorus. — My soul doth long to go Where I may fully know The glories of my Saviour ; And as I pass along T '11 sing the Christian's song, I hope to live forever. Perhaps you think me wild. Or simple as a child, — T am a child of glory ; I am born Ironi above,' My soul is fill'd witli love. I love to tell the story. Chorus. — M}- soul now sits and suig.s. And i)ractiscs her wings, And contemidates the hour When the messenger shall sav, "Coino, ([uit this house of clay, And witli bright angels tower." THE DYING GIRL TO HER SISTER. The dream is past — I 'm dying now, 'Phere is a dampness on my brow ; 'I'he ])ang is o'er — without a sigli r 'II pass away, anil sweetly die^ 61'I1UTCAL SOXUti. •27 But O ! that paug cost mauy a sigh, 'T was hard to part with friends so dear ; But that is past, I '11 weep no more, With me the dream of life is o'er. And now, sweet sister, nearer come, And tell me of that happy liome : Shall I its pearly gates behold. Its streets all paved with buruish'd gold ? And in that clime so strangely fair. Say, shall I feel a stranger there ? Or, will their harp-strings sweetly blend ? To welcome rae, a child and friend 2 But softly, sister, softly speak, And stay those tears upon thy cheek ; Weep not for me, O do not pain, I would not wake to earth again. Thy hand, so often clasp'd of old, Thy soft warm hand for mine grows cold ; And now, dear sister, let me rest My wearied head upon thy breast ; And told thy arms about my form, It shivers 'neath Death's dark cold storm ; But sing me, sister, ere I go, Our song, our childhood song you know ; And let its gentle numbers flow, As last you sung, soft, sweet, and low ; And when its last faint echoes die. And the bright tears steal from thine eye, T ^llall not heed them as they stray, 1 sliall be gone, far, far away. Then, dearest sister, fare-you-weil, 1 'm goinir to lioavon. with Christ to dwell. BPIKITLAL SONGS. THE OLD OAK-TRER Woodman, spare that tree ! Touch not a single bough ; In youth it slielter'd me, And I '11 protect it now. 'T was my forefather's hand That placed it near his cot ; While I 've a hand to save, Thine axe shall harm it not. That old familiar tree, Whose glory and renown Has spread o'er land and sea, And wouldst thou hack it down Woodman, thy stroke forbear, Cut not its earth-bound tie ; O spare the aged oak. Now towering to the sky. When but an idle boy, I sought its grateful shade ; In all their gushing joy, Here, too, my sisters play'd ; My mother kiss'd me here, My father press'd my hand : Forgive this foohsh tear, But let the old oak stand. My heart-strings round thee cling, Close as thy bark, old friend — Here shall the Avild birds sing, And still thy branches bend ; Old oak, the storm still brave ; Then, woodman, leave the spot- While 1 've an arm to save. Thy axe shall harm it not. SPIKITI AL SONGS. 20 THE SIEVE'S APPEAL. Air — From Greenland's Icy Moimtains. O God, thou great Creator, Whose love all hearts shall own, Be thou my Mediator, I '11 bow before thy throne ; My master's heart, how icy, O warm it with thy love ! Tell him thy power is mighty, And point to life above. He smiles when I am wTithing With agony and pain. And, though I cry for mercy, He smiles and strikes again ; O tell him, in thy kindness. That the All-seeing Eye Perceives him, in his blindness. The lash of torture ply. 8how him, O God, how dreary The " spirit-land " will be To him, where all the weary At last again are free ; And " slave," that word heart-rending, Is blotted from that sphere, Where, during time ne'er ending. No groans can please his ear. Show him the long dark ages He must remain behind. Nor haste through blissful stages Tliat yet await mankind.* -■ The iuilhor is u boliever in A. J. Davis's theory of successive Rtaptes of hatiiiinc-s liovoiiflor. 30 81'XltITUAL SONGS. But, plodding lonely onward, Remorse his only friend, Look sadly to the future, To where his miseries end. Ask him if e'er a blessing Came from his mother's tongue, When words — 0 how distressing — Her heart with anguish wrung ; Her son — was he to leave her, And toil on burning sands ? Torn from his home and kindred, To die in distant lands. And 0 ! had he a father. Or yet a sister's love ? ( ) sure his heart will soften, And tears of pity move ; He '11 feel tliat I 'm a brotlier, And cast the chains from me — With mind and voice forever Will shout for Liberty. RocHESTEn. Fred. Douglass's Paper. THE MOTE AND BEAiM. Since meridian light commences, Pure light 's reveal'd to some ; If there still should be offences, Woe to him by whom they come. "Judge not that ye be not judged," Was the counsel Christ did give ; And the measure that is given, Just the saiTie yu will receive. -iPIlUTl Al. SON(:«. Jcsiis says, B^meek aiul lowl}-, For 't is high to be a judge ; If I would be pure and holy, I must live without a grudge. It requires a constant labour All his precepts to obey ; But if I truly love my neighbour, Then I'm in the holy way. But if I say unto my neighbour. In thine' eye there is a mote ; If thou wert a friend and brother, Hold and I will pull it out. But I could not get it fairly, For my sight was very dim ; When I came to see more clearly, lu mine eye there was a beam. If I love my brother dearly. And his mote I wish to erase, Then my light must shine more clearly, For the eye 's a tender place. Others I have oft reproved For a little single mote ; Now I wish the beam removed — 0 that tears could wash it out 1 But charity and love are healing. They afford a pure light — When I saw my brother failing 1 was not exactly right ; Now I '11 take no further trouble. Since Christ's love is all my theme — Little motes are but a bubble When 1 think upon a beam. 32 IPIIUTUAI. SON OS. HE DOETH ALL TIHNGS WELL. I REMEMBER how I loved her, when a little guiltless child I saw her in the cradle, as she look'd on me and smiled ; • My cup of happiness was full, niy jov words cannot tell. And I bless'd the glorious Giver, who doeth all things well. Months pass'd — that bud of promise was unfolding every hour, T thought earth had never smiled upon a fairer flower ; So beautiful, it well might gi-aee the bower where angels dwell. And waft its fragrance to His throne who doeth all things well. Years fled — that little sister then was dear as life to me ; She awoke in my unconscious heart a wild idolatry ; I worshipp'd at an earthly shrine, lured by some magic spell. Forgetful of the praise of Him xvho doeth all things well. She was the lovely star whose light around my pathway shone Amid this darksome vale of tears, through which I journey on ; Its radiance had obscured the light which round His throne doth dwell. And I wander'd far away from Him v)ho doeth all things well. SlMRlTfAL SOXCiS. 33 Tlmt sUiv went dow^ in beauty, yet it shinetli sweetly now In the bright and dazzling coronet that decks the Saviour's brow ; She bow'd to the Destroyer, whose shafts none may ■•cl: d hath told us, he doeth all ->rrow, as I stood beside her rtfeit anguish, when they told iernecs, let not my heart rebel, he will restore — he doeth all SRED HOUSEHOLD. 31- — my guardian, my guide, \ K>xt oi' my youth, 1 cents of kindness had taught 111 and truth ? , 'Am in the churchyard he lies, \ iiu . -Icsus in lapturous delight. GG SPllUTLAL SONG! Now redemption they sing to their glorious King, Through the power of free grace, while the angels sing bass ; How it rolls o'er the plains, in what glorious strains ! O, glory to Jesus, forever he reigns. There, array'd all in white, saints and angels unite, And in ecstasies gaze on the Ancient of Days ; In harmonious lays all their voices they raise. And all heaven is fill'd with Immanuel's praise. THE NEW GOSPEL SHIP. I 'vE shipp'd on boajd the gospel ship — Come, who will go with me ? She 's ready now, she 's all afloat, Your passage shall be free. Chorus. — Cheer up, all hearts, the day it breaks, The boats are crossing o'er. The sun is up, the night is past. Bright angels throng the shore. Her keel was laid in perfect love. When first her work begun ; And niodell'd by the powere above. And finish'd by the Son. Her sails are made of linen white. And all so neat and clean ; Her decks are laid with gospel grace. And season'd hard within. Hei- sides are seal'd, and all so tight, With perfect skill and e.ase; Her cabin 's lined with gold so bright — Our Captaiu he is there. Who do you tbiuk our Captoiu is } Or do you know his name ? 'T is Jesus Christ, the Father s Son — Was born in Bethlehem. Sometimes the waves run mountain high, And nothing seems to yield ; By faith we steer oin- gospel ship — 'T is love that turns her wheels. We've naii'd our coloui'S to the mast, And fiimiy we declare Wc '11 never stiike while time doth last, Or Jesus answers prayer. The Bible — yes, it is our chart — It points forever true ; Though days go by, and years are past. Yet it is always new. You ask me what 's the song we sing ; You ask me how we fare : 'T is glory to our (iod and king. And manna every hour. You ask me where my ship is bound, And what 's the wages given ? She sails the world — yes, all around. And anchoi-s safe in heaven. HOME OF THE SOUL. O WHERE can the soul find relief from its foes, A shelter of safety, a home of repose ? Can earth's liighest summit, or deepest hid vale, Give a refuge nor sorrow nor sin can assail ? No — no 1 there 's no home, There 's no home upon earth ; the soul has no homeJ (38 SliiiU it It'ine tlic low oartli and soar to tlie sky, And seek for a home in the mansions on high ? In the bright reahns of bHss will a dwellino; be given, And the soul find a home in the glory of heaven? Yes — yes — there 's a home ; There's a home in high heaven — the soul has a home. O holy and sweet its rest shall be there I — Free forever from sin, and soi'row, and care ; And the loud hallelujahs of angels shall rise, To welcome the soul to its home in the skies; Home — home — home of the soid, The bosom of Ood is the home of the soul. UUll BUiS'DACiE IT SHALL END. (Juit bondage it shall end by and by, From Egypt's yoke set free ; Hail the glorious jubilee, And to Canaan we'll return by and by. Our l^eliverer he shall come by and by. And our sorrows have an end, With our threescore years and ten, And vast glory crown the day by and by. Though our enemies are strong, we'll go on ; Though our hearts dissolve with fear, Lo '. Sinai's God is near, While the fiery pillar moves we'll go on. Though Marah has hitler streams, we'll go on; Though Ikca's vale be dry, And the land yield no suppl}-. To a land of ( urn and wine we '11 go on. SI'lKlll AL SONGS. 69 And when to Jordan's floods we are come, Jehovah rules the tide, And the waters he '11 divide, And the ransom'd host shall shout, we are come. Then fiiends shall meet again who have lo\ecl, Our embraces shall be sweet, At the dear Redeemer's feet. When we meet to part no more who have loved. Then with all the happy throng we '11 rejoice, Shouting glory to our King, Till the vaults of heaven ring. And through all eternity we '11 rejoice. LAY UP NEARER, BROTHER. Tlie New-Englaud Diadem gives its readers the following beauti- ful stanzas, which were suggested by hearing read au extract of a letter from Capt. Chase, giving an account of the sickness and death of his brother-in-law, Mr. Brown Owen, w ho died on his passage to California. Wc have seldom met anything so painfully interesting iu every line, and it will be read with " tearful eyes" by many who have lost brothers, fathers, husbands, or sons on their way to, or after having reached, the land of gold and of graves. Lay up nearer, bi'othor, nearer ; For my limbs are growing cold. And thy presence seemeth dearer When thy arais around me fold. T am dying, brother, dying. Soon you '11 miss me in your berth ; For my form will soon be lying 'Neath the ocean's bi-iny suif. Hearken to me, brother, hearken ; I have something I would say sriRlTUAL SONGS. Ere the veil my vision darken, And I go from hence away : I am going, surely going, But my hope in God is strong ; I am willing, brother, knowing That he doeth nothing wrong. Tell my father, when you gi-eet him. That in death I pray'd for him — Pray'd that I might one day meet him In a world that 's free from sin ; Tell my mother, (God assist her Now that she is growing old,) — Tell, her child would glad have kiss'd her When his lips grew pale and cold. Listen, brother, catch each whisper, 'T is my wife I 'd speak of now : Tell. O ! tell her how I miss'd her. When the fever burn'd my brow ; Tell her, brother, (closely listen, Do n't forget a single word,) That in death my eyes did glisten With the tears her mem'ry stirr'd. Tell her she must kiss my children. Like the kiss I last impressed ; Hold them as when last I held them, Folded closely to my breast ; Give them early to their Maker, Putting all her trust in God, And he never will forsake her. For he's said so in his word. O, my children ! Heaven bless them ! They were all my life to me ; Would I could once more caress them Ere I sink beneath the sea ; si'iuni .VI. soN-(iS. 'T was for them I eross'd the ocoan, What mv hopes were I '11 not tell, But I've gain'd an orphan's portion. Yet He doeth all thhigs well. Tell my sister I remember Ev rv kindly parting word, And my heart has been kept tender ^ By the thoughts their mem'ry stirr d ; Tell them I ne'er i-each'd the haven Where I sought the " precious dust," But I gain'd a port called Heaven, Where the gold will never rust. Urf^e them to secure an entrance, For they '11 find their brother there ; Faith in Jesus and repentance. Will secure for each a share. Hark 1 I hear my Saviour speaking, 'T is his voice I know so well ; When I 'm gone, O do n't be weeping. Brother, here 's my last tarewetx 1 THE HAPPY ilAN. How happy is the man who has chosen wisdom's ways. And measures out his span to his God in prayer and praise ; His God and his Bible are all he desires, To holiness of heart he continually aspires ; In poverty he is happy, for he knows he has a Friend That never will forsake him, though the world shall have an end. 72 .smHITUAL SOXtiS. He rises in the morning, with the lark he tunes his lays, And offers up his tribute to his God in prayer and praise ; And then to his labour cheerfully repairs. In confidence, believing that his God will hear his prayers ; AYhatever he engages in, at home or abroad, His object is to honour and to glorify God. And thus you iiave his history through life from day to day — Religion is no mystery to him, it is a beaten way ; And when on his pillow he lies down to die. In hope he rejoices, for he knows his Saviour's nigh ; And when life's lamp is flickering, his soul on wings of love Flios away to realms of glory, there to reign with Christ above. THE WIFE. She clung to him with woman's love, Like ivy to the oak. Whilst o'er his head, with crushing force. Earth's chilling tempests broke. And Avhen the world look'd cold on him. And blight hung o'er his name. She soothed his cares with woman's love. And bade him rise again. When care had fuiTow'd o'er his brow. And clouded his young hours. She wove, amidst his crown of thorns, A wreath of love's own flow'i-s. 73 And never iliJ that wreath decay, Or the bright flow'ret wither, For woman's tears e'er nourish'd them, That they might l)loom forever. 'T is ever thus with woman's love. True till lil-'s storms have pass'cl ; And, like the vine around the tree, // braves them to the last. WHEN JOSEI'lI HIS BRETHREN BEHELD. WiiEX Joseph his brethren beheld, Afflicted and trembling with fear. His lieart with cumpassion was fill'd. For weeping he c ould not forbear. Awhile his behaviour was rough. To bring their past sins to their mind. But wlien they were humbled enough. He hasten'd to show himself kind. How Httle they thought it was he Whom they had ill-treated and sold ! How great their confusion must be As soon as his name he had told I ''I'm Joseph your brother," he said, '• And still to my heart you are dear ; You sold me, and "thought I was dead. But God, for your sakes, sent me here." Though gTcatly distressed before. When charged with purloining the cup, Thcv now were confounded much more — Not one of tliem durst to look up. "(Jan Joseph, whom wo would hnxo slain, > Forgive us tlie evil we did ? And will he our households maintain ? — O this is ii brother indeed !" Thus dragg'd by niy conscience I came, And laden with guilt, to the Lord, Surroiuided with terror and shame, Unable to utter a word. At fii'st he look VI stern and severe ; What anguish then j)ierced my heart ; Expecting each moment to hear The sentence, " Thoii cursed, depart !" But O ! what surprise wlien he spoke, While tenderness beam'd in his face ; My heart tlien to pieces was broke, O'erwhelm'd and confounded by grace. " Poor sinner, I know thee full well — By thee I was sold and was slain ; But I died to i-edeem tliee from hell, And raise thee in glory to reign. " I 'm .Jesus, whom thou hast blaspliemed. And crucified often afresh ; But let me lienceforth be esteem'd Thy brother, thy bone and thy flesh ; My pardon I freely bestow, Thy wants I will fully supply ; I '11 guide thee and guard thee below, And soon will remove thee on high." " Go, publish to sinners around. That they may be willing to come, The mercy which now you have found, And tell them that yet there is room.'' SPIIliri Al. SONCJS. O, sinners, the message obey I No more vain excuses pretend ; But come, without further delay. To Jesus, our brother and friend. A CALL TO SINNERS. O, CARELESS sinner, come, Pray now attend ; Tliis world is not your home, It soon will end ; Jehovah calls aloud. Forsake the thoughtless crowd. Pursue the road to God and happy bo. No happiness you'll find \Yhile thus you go. No fear unto your inind ; But fear and woe Attend you ev'ry day, while far from God you stray, O, sinners, come away and happy be. Nor do I call alone ; The Saviour too. E'en with bis dying groans. Cries, Bid adieu To sin and folly now, and to his sceptre bow, And he will tell you how to Hve anew. But if you still refuse, Down, down )'ou '11 go. And with the wicked Jews The road to woe. Alas ! how can you slight the rays of gospel light, And sink in endless night, whore silence reigns. 70 Sl'IlilTl AI. si)N(iS. I bid 3'ou all farewell With aching heart, And in deep sorrow tell That we must part, While on to heav'n w e go, and you are bound to woe, Alas ! it must be so, if you rebel. T look on you again, And hoping say, Why won't you leave your sins, And come away From Satan's cruel pow'r, and live forever more. And bless tlie joyful hour when life began. All hail ! we welcome then Your hap]iy flight Fi-ora Kedar's tents of sin To glory bright. We'll travel on with you, and bid the world adieu, And endless joys pui-sue till all is ours. Then we will range around The peaceful plains. Where pleasure hath no boxmds, Whei'e glory reigns. We '11 fall at Jesus' feet, where joys are all complete, And in sweet raptures meet, to part no more. THE SACRIFICE. The morning sun rose bright and clear. On Abraham's tent it gaily shone, And all was bright and cheerful there, All save the patriarch's heart alone. si'IRITl Al. SONGS. While God's command arose to mind, It forced into his eye a tear ; Although his soul was all resign'd, Yet nature fondly linger'd there. The simple morning feast -was spread, 2\.nd Sarah at the banquet smiled ; Joy o'er her ftice its lustre spread, For near her sat her only child. The charms that pleaesd a monarch's eye, Upon her cheek had left their trace ; His highly-augur'd destiny Was written on his heavenly face. The groaning father turn'd away, And walk'd the inner tent apart ; He felt his fortitude decay, While nature whisper'd in his heart : O 1 must this son, to whom was given The promise of a blessed land, Heir to the choicest gifts of Heaven, Be slain by a tbnd lather s hand ? — This son, for whom my eldest born Was sent an outcast from his home, And in some wilderness forlorn A savage exile doom'd to roam ! But shall a feeble worm rebel, And murmur at a father s rod ? Shall he be backward to fulfil The known and certain will of God ? Arise, my son I the cruet fill. And store the scrip with due supplies ; For we must seek Moriah's hill And offer there a sacrifice. SPIRITl-AL SOXOS. The mother raised a speaking eye, , And all a mother's soul was there ; She fear'd the desert drear and diy, She fear'd the savage lurking there. Abrah'm beheld, and made reply ; On Him from whom our blessings flow, My sister, we by faith rely ; 'T is God's command, and Ave must go. The duteous son in haste obey'd, The scrip was fiU'd, the mules prepared. And with the third day's twilight shade Moriah's lofty hill appear'd. The menials they at distance wait, Alone ascend the son and sire. The wood on Isaac's shoulder laid, The wood to build his funeral pyre. No passions sway'd the father's mind. He felt a calm, a death-like chill ; His soul was chaste and all resign'd, Bow'd meekly, though he shudder'd still. While on the mountain's brow they stood, With smiling wonder Isaac cries : My father, lo ! the fire and wood, But where 's the lamb for sacrifice ! The Holy Spirit stay'd his mind. While Abrah'm answer'd low and calm. With steady voice, and look resign'd, God will himself provide the lamb. But lo ! the father bound his son. And laid him on the funeral pile ; And then stretch'd forth his trembling hand. And took the knife to slay his child. While Abrali'm raised the blade full high, To execute his God's command, An angel's voice, as from the sky, Cried, Abrah'm, spare thine only son. But let no pen, profane like mine. On holiest themes too rashly dare ; Turn to the Book of books di^^ne, And read the precious promise there. Ages on ages roll'd away. At length the hour ap^winted came, When, on the mountain Calvary, God did himself pro\nde the Lamb. DAXIEL m THE LIONS' DEK Amosg the Jewish nations one Daniel there was found, Whose unexampled piety astonish'd all aroimd ; Tliey saw him very pious and faithful to the Lord, Three times a day"he bowed to supplicate his God. Among the king's high princes this Daniel was the ° first. The king preferr'd the spirit this Daniel did possess ; His unexampled piety provoked their jealousy, The princes sought his ruin, — obtain'd a firm decree. Should any man or woman a supplication bring. For thirty days ensuing, save unto thee, O king. To any lord or master, or any other man. They should without distinction fall in the lions' den. But now when Daniel heard it, straight to his house he went, To beg his God's protection — 'twas all his whole intent ; 80 8PIK1TIAL SUNtlS. His windows being open, before his God he bow'd ; The .princes were assembled, they saw him worship God. They came to King Darius and spake of liis decree, .Saying, That Hebrew Daniel doth nothing care for thee : Before his God he boweth three times in every day, With all his ^vindows open, and we have heard him pray. Now when Darius heard it, his soul did sore lament ; He set his heart on Daniel, the sentence to prevent : The princes then assembled and to the king they said, Remember your great honour, likewise the laws you made. Darius then commanded that Daniel should be brought. And cast into the lions' den, because the Lord he sought ; The king then said to Daniel, That God whom you adore. Will save you from the lions, and bless, you ever- more. T'he king went to his palace and fasted all the night, He neither ate nor drank, nor in music took delight ; So early the next morning he stole along the way, And came unto the lions' den, where this bold He- brew lay. Then with a voice of mourning, to Daniel cried aloud, Saying, O Daniel. Daniel, thou servant of the Lord, .Sl'lKllLAL SUNGp. 81 Is not til y ( iod sufficient for to deliver thee '. — That God in whom thou trnstest and serve con- tinually. My God hath sent his angel and shut the lions' jaws, 80 that they have not hurt me uiy enemies they saw. Then straight the king commanded to take him out the den ; Ik'oause in God he trusted, no harm was found in liim. See liow the faithful Uauiel fearVl not the face of clay — "T was not the king's commandment that made hini cease to pray ; He knew that God was with him, to save his soul from deatli ; He trusted in Jehovah, and pray'd at every breath. SECON'D PART. Darius then commanded tliose wretches to b(j brought Who had, with so much boldness, the life of Daniel sought ; On women, men and children the sentence being pass'd, Among the angry lions those sinnei's then were cast. The lions rush'd with vengeance upon those wicked men, .Vnd tore them all to pieces ere they to the bottom came : Thus God will save his cliildreii who put their trust in him, And punish (heir ntVfiideis with agonies extreme. 82 SPIRITUAL bONGb. 'T was then a proclamation Darius issued forth, Commanding all the people that dwelt upon the earth, To fear the God of Daniel, for he's the living God, Whose kingdom is forever, and shall not be de- stroy Vl. lie maketh signs and wonders in heaven and on earth. Who hath deliverVl Daniel, and shut the lions' mouth ; Who sa\ed the Hebrew thildren when cast into the flame ; AVho is tlie God of heaven, and spreads his wide domain. This Daniel's (iod is gracious to all his children dear ; He gives them consolation, and tells them not to fear ; lie's promised to supjiort them, and bring llicm safe to dwell Eternally in heaven, but dooms their foes to hell. llark, sinners ! hear the gospel, it says to j ou re- pent ; Come, try a bleeding Saviour, for you his blood was spilt ; He died to purchase pardon, that we might, by his power, Escape the roaring lion tiiat seeks us to devour. O will you be persuaded, by one who lo\ es your soul. To turn and seek salvation, with Christ in heaven to IKnL'AI. SONUS. S3 Come, serve the (toiI ol' l>aiiiel, 't is Jesus bids you come, You '11 find a hearty welcome in Christ the bleedinc; Lamb. (rlory to God ! 0 glory ! for his redeeming love ; Religion makes us happy here, and will in worlds above ; We '11 sing bright hallelujahs, and join the holy song, With Moses, Job, and Daniel, ;ind all the heavenly throng. WHITHER GOEST THOU. I'lLGRIM STRANGER? WiiiTHEK goest thou, pilgrim stranger, Wand'ring through this lonely vale i Know'st thou not 'tis full of danger? And will not thy courage fail ? Chorus. — No, I 'm bound for the kingdom, AYill you go to glory with me ? O hallelujah ! O hallelujah ! I 'm bound for the kingdom, Will you go to glory \rith me ? O hallelujah ! O hallelujah ! Pilgrim thou hast justly call'd me, Passing through a waste so wide ; But no harm will e'er befall me While I'm bless'd with such a guide. For I 'm bound, &c. Such a guide I — no guide attends thee, Hence for thee my fears arise ; If some guardian pow'r befriend thee, "T is unseen by mortal eyes. O, I'm bound, here alone ! 9U Sl'lUll'l Al, rtuNUS. " Tho tempests ina\- liowl, and the loud thunders roll, Ancl gathering storms may arise, Yet calm are my feelings, at rest is my soul, The tears are all wiped from these eyes. " 'I'he cause of my Master compell'd me from home ; I bade my companion farewell ; 1 left my sweet children, who now for me mourn, In far distant regions to dwell. " T wander'd, an exile and stranger below. To publish salvation abroad, 'J'he trump of the gospel endeavour'd to blow. Inviting poor sinners to God. " Hut when, among strangers and far from my home, No kindred or relative nigh, I met the contagion and sank in the tomb, My spii'it ascended on high. " 0 tell my companion, and children most dear, To weep not for Joseph, though gone ; 'I'he same Hand that led me through scenes dark and drear Has kindly assisted me home." I caU'd at the house of the mourner below, 1 enter d the mansion of grief ; The tears of deep sorrow most freely did flow — I tried, but could give no relief. There sat a lone widow dejected and sad. By affliction and sorrow oppress'd ; And here were her children in mourning array'd. And sighs were e.sca])ing eacli breast. 91 1 spoke to the widow concerning her grief. I ask'd her the cause of her woe ; And why there was nothing to give her rehef, Or soothe her deep sorrow below. She look'd at her children, then look'd upon me ; That look I can never forget ; More eloquent far than a seraph can be, It spoke of the trials she met. " The hand of affliction falls heavily now ; I am left with ray children to mourn ; The friend of my youth is silent and low. In yonder cold grave-yard alone ! " But why should I mourn, or feel to complain. Or think that fortune is hard ? Have I met with affliction — 't is truly his gain — He's entcr'd the joy of his Lord ! " His work is completed and finish'd below ; His last tear is fiillen, I trust ; He has preach'd his last sermon and met his last foe ; Has conquer'd, and now is at rest !" THE KESU ERECTION HYMN. O, THEY crucified my Saviour ; O, they crucified my Saviour ; 0, they crucified my Saviour, And they nail'd him to the cross : But he arose, he arose, he arose from the dead ; He arose and went to heaven on a cloud. SPIRITUAL bONGS. Then Joseph begg'd his body, And he laid it in the tomb. But he arose, &c. Then down came the angels, And they roll'd away the stone. Then he arose, &c. O, the grave it could not hold him, For he burst the bonds of death. Then he arose, &c. Then Mary came a-running, A-looking for her Lord. But he arose, &c. O, where have you laid him ? For he is not in the tomb. For he arose, &c. Go, tell John and Peter I have risen from the dead. Go, tell to doubting Thomas I have risen from the dead. Then our hearts they burn'd within As he talk'd along the way. O, why stand ye gazing, O, ye men of Gahlee ? Don't you see him now ascending, There to plead for you and me ? In the M'orld there 's tribulation, But in me ye shall have peace. By-and-by we '11 go and meet him, Where pleasures never die. SPIRITLAL SONGS. WHEN I SET OUT FOR GLORY. Whex I set out for glory I left the world behind, Determined for a city That 's out of sight to find. Chorus.— And to glory I wUl go, ^ And to gloiy I will go, I 11 go, 1 And to glory I will go. I left my worldly honour, I left my worldly fame, I left my young companions. And wth them my good name. Some said I 'd better tarry, They thought I was too young Then to prepare for dying, But that Avas all my theme. Come, all my loving brethren. And listen to my cry ; All you that are backshdei-s Must shortly beg or die. And to begging I ^vill go, &c. The Lord, he loves the beggar Who truly begs indeed ; He always will relieve him Whene'er he stands in need. I 'm not ashamed to beg While here on earth I stay ; I 'm not ashamed to watch, I 'm not ashamed to pray. 'J4 .SPIRITUAL SONGS. The richest man I ever saw Was one that begg'd the most ; > His soul was fiU'd with Jesus And with the Holy Ghost. And now we are encouraged, Come, let us travel on. Until we join the angels And sing the holy song. And to glory we will go, &c. THE LITTLE HYMN. Come, little children, now we may partake a little morsel ; For little songs and little ways adorn'd a great apostle : A little drop of Jesus' blood can make a feast of union ; It is by little steps we move into a full communion. A httle faith does mighty deeds quite past all my recounting, Faith, like a little mustard-seed, can move a lofty mountain ; A little charity and zeal — a little tribulation — A little patience — makes us feel great peace and consolation. A little cross with cheerfulness, a little self-denial, Will help us feel our troubles less, and bear the greater trial ; The Spirit, like a little dove, on Jesus once descended, To show his meekness and his love the emblem was intended. The title of the httle Lamb unto our Lord was given, Such was our Saviour's little name, the Lord of earth and heaven ; A little voice that's small and still can rule the whole creation, A little stone that earth shall fill, and humble everv nation. A little zeal supplies the soul, it doth the heart in- spire ; A little spark lights up the whole and sets the crowd on fire ; A little union serves to hold the good and tender- hearted. It's stronger than a chain of gold that never can be parted. Come, let us labour here below — see who can walk the straightest ; For in God's kingdom all must know the least shall be the greatest : O give us, Lord, a little drop of heavenly love and union ; O may we never, never stop, short of a full com- munion. Fear not, says Christ, ye little flock, heirs of immor- tal glory. You 're built upon the surest rock, the kingdom 's just before you ; Fight on, fight on, ye heii-s of bliss, and tell the pleasing story — I 'm with you till the world shall end. I '11 bring you home to glory ! 96 SPIRITUAL SONGS. HOW SWEET THE MEMORY OP THE DEAD. How sweet the mem'ry of the dead, While sleeping on their dusty bed ! Their bodies rest in silence, where No ghmm'ring sun can enter there. Chorus. — We are passing away, We are passing away, We are passing away. Like a long summer's day. Our brother he is dead and gone, He 's gone to join the morning song ; Ah ! he did preach till almost spent. And then gave up without consent. He told us that his work was done — He pray'd the Lord he would come down ; A little while he talk'd and pray'd. Then clapp'd his hands, and thus he said : " Children of Zion, now draw near, And hear my dying speech with fear ; Have I done all, have I got through, And finish'd all I had to do ?" Satan tried his mind to cross, He told him all his hopes were lost ; He ask'd the Lord to give a sign If he was born of blood divine. A light from heaven did appear, The glory of the Lord was there ; I thought I heard the Saviour say — " Come hither, soul, I am the way !" " Satan, leave, for I must go, The Lord has call'd me from below : ,1'IRITUAL SOKHJj. 97 I tbaiik my God for what he 's done, Tlie gift of his beloved Son ! '* Jesus me a sinner sought — Was not mine a happy lot ? I feel my Saviour in my breast — I want to go and be at rest !" 1 saw this mighty hero fall — I saw him bui-st the prison wall — I saw him when he took his flight To dwell among the saints of light. Could he another life hve o'er, He 'd range this world from shore to shore ; He wore the mortal body down — He weai-s a never-fading cro^vn. But see ! the mighty angels call, They take him round the city's wall : " Come in !" they cried, " the war is o'er !" And then I saw his face no more. OUR KIXDRED DEAR TO HEAVEN HAVE GONE. Our kindred dear to heaven have gone, We '11 meet our friends in glory ; They landed safe — we '11 follow on. To meet our friends in glory. Chorus. — We 're marching to glory ! We 're marching to gloiy ! We 're marching to glory 1 To meet our friends in glory ! We 're on our way to paradise, To meet our friends in glorv ! 7 08 SHIKITUAL SONGS. They had to fight their passage through — We 'II meet our friends in glory ; But conquer'd, as we soon shall too, And meet our friends in glory. How bright the crowns their temples bear I — We '11 meet our friends in glory ; Like crowns for us are waiting there — We '11 meet our friends in glory. What robes they wear before the throne I — We '11 meet our friends in glory ; Such glorious I'obes shall be our own — We '11 meet our friends in glory. What harps of gold they all employ I — We '11 meet our friends in glory ; Such harps our hands shall strike with joy — We '11 meet our friends in glory. What notes divine are on their tongues ! — We '11 meet our friends in glory ; And raise with them our rapt'rous songs — We'll meet our friends in glorj'. We 're marching forward heart and hand. To meet our friends in glory ; And soon, in one united band, We '11 meet our friends in glory. SlURITLAL SOXGS. 99 I HAVE NO FATHER THERE. C. M tz:t;zT:z:U:Iai:^=i^z:t^=i 1. I saw a wide and well-siwead board, And 2. Be -side the board the fa - tlier sat, A children, young and fair. Came cue by one— the smile his fea-tures wore, As on the lit - tie £3E -s—r- eld - est first — And took their sta - tions there : group he gazed. And told their por- tions o'er: ill! '=1: neat - ly clad, and bean - ti - ful, uiea - grc form, ar - ray'd in rags And A- iiiiilii 100 =:?±fp=fz:i:f:pzp:F^.f->;z:p:zi— z:E:E=bz;U:i:t===:tt:tE~:i;;:=t=^.=i ■with fa - mi - liar tread, They gathcr'd round with near the threshold stood — A half-starved child had joy to feast On meats and snow-white bread, wan-der'd there, To beg a lit - tie food. 0. Said one, '• Why standest here, my child'? See, there 's a vacant seat, Amid the children — and enough For them and thee to eat " Alas, for mc !" the child replied, In tones of deep despair ; " No right have I amid your group — I have no father there !" 1. 0, hour of fate ! when fi-om the skies, AVith notes of deepest dread, The far resounding trump of God Shall summon forth the dead — What countless liosts shall stand without The heavenly tlireshold fair. And, gazing on the blest, exclaim, " I have uo Father there I" SPIRITUAL SOXGS. THE FAMILY BIBLE. lAda2>tcd to the preceding tune.'] 1 . This Book is all that 's left me now ; Tears will unbidden start : With falt'ring lip and throbbing brow, I press it to my heart : For many generations pass'd, Here is our family-tree ; My mother's hands this Bible clasp'd ; She, dying, gave it me. 2. Ah ! well do I remember those Whose names these records bear ; Who round the hearth-stone used to close, After the evening prayer. And speak of what these pages said, In tones my heart would thrill ! Though they arc with the silent dead, Here are they living still. 3. My father read this holy Book To brothers, sisters dear — How calm was my poor mother's look, Who loved God's word to hear ! Her angel face — I see it yet ! What thronging memories come ! Again that little group is met, Within the walls of home. 4. Thou truest friend man ever knew, Thy constancy I 've tried ; When all were false I 've found thee true, My counsellor and guide. The mines of earth no treasure give, That could this volume buy — In teaching me the way to live. It taught me how to die. 102 SPIRITUAL SONGS. 103 i. Cold, on his cradle, the dcwnlrops arc sliming; Low lies his bed with the l3easts of the stall ; Angels adoi-e him, in slumber reclining, — Maker, and Monarch, and Saviour, of all. :i. Say, shall we yield him, in costly devotion, Odours of Eden, and off 'rings divine ? Gems of the mountain, and pearls of the ocean. Myrrh from the forest, and gold from the mine ? 4. Vainly we offer each ample oblation ; Vainly with gifts would his favour secure ; Kicher by far is the heart's adoration ; Dearer to God are the prayers of the poor. BURST, YE EMERALD GATES. 7s & r,». 1. Bm-st, ye emerald gates, and bring To my raptured : All the ecstatic joys that spring Round the bright E- 2. Floods of ev-er-last-ing light Free-ly flash be- I Myriads, with supreme deliirht, lu-stant-ly a- Lo ! we lift our long ■ VI - sion, I ly - siimi! j dore him • | ■ gel trumps re - sound his fame ; 104 SPIRITUAL SONGS. Break, ye in - ter - ven-ing skies : Sons of righteous- Lutes of lu - cid gold proclaim All the mu - sic ness, a - rise ! Ope the gates of pa - ra of his name, Hea-ven e - cho - ing tlie 0 0 —0 - dise. theme. lh -|-" r>. Foui" and twenty elders rise From their princely station : Shout his glorious victories, Sing the great salvation : Cast their crowns before his throne ; Cry, in reverential tone, " Glory be to God alone. Holy, holy, holy One." 4. Hark ! the thrilling symphonies Seem, methinks, to seize us ; Join we to the holy lays — " Jesus ! Jesus ! Jesus !" Sweetest sound in seraph's song ; Sweetest note on mortal tongue ; Sweetest carol ever sung : " Jesus ! Jesus '." flow along. sl'lUlll Al. SONUS. THE OLD ISRAELITES. 12 & 9. 1. The oKl Israelites knew what it was they must tin 2. I am thankful, indeed, for the Heavcn-ly Head, If fair Ca - iia - an thov would pes - scss — WhiA he - fore me has hith - er - to soue ; Thev must still keep ii Foi- that Pil - lar of I z^:^;|>=:>z:U 1 — • sight of the pil - lar of light, ovo which doth onward still move, — «-f-i — 1 — 1 — 1 — 1- Which led on to the pro - mis - ed rest : And doth ga - ther our souls in - to one. 100 The Now the • 3UlJ 1 are a ^ i i-F- long, But as And ii the ti r," mm '-^ Pi take up the cross and ► riT:: go- go- St ^PlRTTT Al. SONGS. 107 The waj- is all new, as it opens to view, And behind is a foaming lied Sea ; So none now need to speak of the onions ami leeks, Or to talk about garlics to me : Oil Jordan's near side I can never abide ; For no place here of refuge I see. Till I come to the spot, and inherit the lot Which the Lord God v^ill give unto me. 4. What though some in the rear preach up terror and fear, And complain of the trials they meet? Though the giants before with great fury do roar, I 'm resolved I will never retreat. We are little, 't is true, and our numbers are few. And the sons of old Anak are tall ; I'.ut while I see a track I will never go back. Bat go on at the risk of my all. Now the bright morning dawns for the camps to move on, And the priests with their trumpets do blow : As the priests give the sound, and the trumpets resound, All my soul is exulting to go. If I 'm faithful and true, and my journey pursue Till I stand on the heavenly shore, I shall joyfully see, what a blessing to me AVas the mortifying cross which I bore. All my honours and wealth, all my pleasures and health, I'ara willing should now be at stake ; If my Christ I obtain, I shall think it great gain. For the sacrifice which I shall make : When I all have forsook, like a bubble 'twill look. From the midst of a glorified throng. Where all losses are gain, where each sorrow and pain Are exchanged for the conqueror's song. 108 SI'IRITl'AI. SON(!S. THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN. C. M. caused him to repent : I '11 die no more for bread — I '11 die no more for bread, he cried, Nor star^-e in foreign lands ; My AL SONGS. 109 Eiii are his hands. IS 0. What have I gain'd by sin, he said, But hunger, shame, and fear ? My father's house abounds with bread, While 1 am starving here. I '11 die no more, &c. 3. I '11 go, and tell him all I 've done. Fall down before his face — Unworthj' to be call'd his son, I '11 seek a servant's place. I '11 die no more, &c. 4. His father saw him coming back ; He saw, and ran, and smiled, And threw his arms around the neck Of his rebellious child. I '11 die no more, &c. 5. Father, I 've sinn'd — but 0 forgive ! Enough, the father said ; Rejoice, my house, my son 's alive. For whom I mourn'd as dead. I '11 die no more, &c. (). Now let the fatted calf be slain. And spread the news around ; My son was dead, but lives again — Was lost, but now is found. I '11 die no more, l'iKn'l AL SONGt;. 1 1 1 — ^ — Soon, a-1 1 ^ 1 — IS ! was his fall — ^ — but he died at bis post. t - ^5 i 2. The stranger's eye wept, that, in life's brightest bloom, One gifted so highly should sink to the tomb ; For in ardour he led, in the van of the host, And he fell like a soldier, — he died at his post. 3. He wept not himself that his warfare was done — The battle was fought, and the victory won ; But he whisper'd of those whom his heart loved the most, — •' Tell niy brethren," said he, " that I died at my post." 4. He ask'd not a stone, to be sculptured m verse ; He ask'd not that fame should his merits rehearse : Bvit he ask'd as a boon, when he gave up the ghost, That his brethren might know that he died at his post Victorious his fall — for he rose as be fell, With Jesus, his Master, in glory to dwell ; He has pass'd o'er the sea — he has reach'd the bright coast — For he fell like a martyr, — he died at his post. 6. And can we the words of our brother forget 1 O no ! — they are fresh in our memory yet : An example so sacred shall never be lost ; We will fall in the work, — we will die at our post 112 SPIRITUAL SONGS. THE DYING BOY. 6, 10, 10, 4. MUSIC BY REV. W. F. FARRINGTOK. 1. Mother, I'm dy - ing now! There 's a deep -^-»- •1 suf - fo - c a - tion iu my bref _ ist, As if some [!• hea - vy hand my bosom press'd ; And on my rS n brow 2. I feel the cold sweat stand ; My lips grow dry and tremulous — my breath Comes feebly up — 0 tell me, Is this death ? Mother, your hand — Here ; lay it on my wrist, And place the other thus beneath my head ; And say, sweet mother, say, when I am dead, Shall I be miss'd ? 113 4 O. at the time of prayer, When you look round and see my vacant seat, You will not wait then for my coming feet— You '11 miss me there. o. Never, beside your knee, Shall I, again, kuecl down at night to pray ; Nor with the morning wake, and smg the lay You taught to me. 6. Father, I 'm going home. To that good home vou spoke of— that blest land. Where it is one bright summer always, and Storms do not come. 7. I must be happy there ; From pain and death, you say, I shall be free- That sickness never enters there, and we Shall meet again ! 8. Brother, the little spot I used to call my garden, where, long hours. We 've stay'd to watch the budding things and flowers Forget it not. 9. Plant there some box or pine, Something that lives in winter, and shall be A verdant offering to my memory. And call it mine. 10. Sister, the young rose-tree That all the spring has been my pleasant care. Just putting forth its leaves, so green and fair, I give to thee. 11. And when its roses bloom, ^ I shall be gone away— my short life done . But will you not bestow a single one Upon my tomb ? 12. Now, mother, sing the tune You sung last night— I 'm weary and must sleep— Who was it call'd my name ?— nay, do not weep— You '11 all come soon. 114 SPIKITUAL SONGS. THE BURIAL OF MRS. JUDSON.* POETRY BY H. .S. WASHBURX— MUSIC 3Y L. HEATH. 1. Moiunful - ly, ten-tier- ly, Bear on the dead; 2. Mournful - ly, ten-der - ly, Solemn and slow — ::k±z:^iz:izii^z:izSzL;It=;t=2zi:z:t :5z:S:t:z^ztzt:'?=*zi: n^zi^zii^zifi'if Where the war-rior has lain, Let the Christian be laid ; Tears are be - dew-ing The path as ye go ; 0^-»-r-»—»-»-»^-»^-r0—^- -m — m-r-iB — m—v—m-m—m—m-jm — ^ — m r ^iziUttzlzz^zttztzt: :pz:U=t=:p:^|: Xo i>lace more be - fit - ting — 0 Rock of tlic sea ! Kin - dred and strangers Are mourners to - day — Nev - cr such trea - sure Was hid - den in thee, — Gent - ly, so gent - ly, O bear lier a - way, — :fP'=i^z:iz:a^z=?z=L:±:t=U=Liz:Ez:T tembcr, 115 Gentl, t^^di , so gent-ly, O I -1^ — ^ ; lid - den ill tlie )ear her a - w.u •i. ^lounifully. tenderly. In fpuotutlc now ; One look ! and then settle Tlie loved to her i-cst — The ocean beneath lier. The turf on lier breast. 4. So have ye buried her — Up I and depart. To life and to duty With undismay'd heart : Fear not — ^for the love Of the stranger will keep. The casket that lies In the Rock of the deep. ■'>. Peace to thy bosom. Thou servant of God ! The vale thou art treading, Before, thou hast trod : Precious dust thou hast laid By the Hopia tree, And treasure as precious In the Rook of the sea I no THE RULER'S DAl.'dHTEK. lis. 1. A father is praying The Saviour to hear. •' My dear little daughter, I fear she will die ! For his daughter Thou rae?-ci-f is dy-inst. With n ul Sa-viour, at-te 0 help-cr ndto my mm * 3 5 Be - seeching him If thou wilt bu greatly, he fal touch her, she su Is at his •c-ly will feet, live— ?4 And hi Then to s sto-rv of thee all the gTo-n 0 h 0 . ear him re e - sus, I '11 peat: give." SPIRITUAL SONOS. 117 And Jesus Tvent with him ; — but soon it was said To the heart-stricken father, " Thy daughter is dead ! Wliy trouble the blaster, thy woes to relieve ?" — But the kind Saviour whisper'd, " Now, only believe." 4. They came to the house — and the mourners were there, And, with weeping and wailing, were rending the air ; But Jesus reproved them : " Why do ye thus weep ? For the maid is not dead — she is only asleep !" O see ! with a touch how the maiden awakes. When the mighty Physician her hand gently takes ! And, see ! from her features pale death quickly flies, At the voice of the Saviour — " 0 damsel, arise !" FOUNTAIN. C. M. — J-- 1. There is a fountain fi L_^_^^ l..^.X I'd with blood,Drawn from Im-man-uel's veins; And sinners, plunged be- z^'zzti=:*=z:f:2^=Kzftrz:^=tz:i 1 18 SPIRITrAI, SONOS. neath that flood, Lose all their guil - ty stains, — Lose 3d ending. iiiipiiilili all their guilty stains. 2. The dying thief rejoiced to see That fountain in his day ; And there may I, though vile as he, Wash all my sins away. 3. Thou dying Lamb ! thy precious blood Shall never lose its power, Till all the ransom'd Church of God Are saved, to sin no more, 4. E'er since, by faith, I saw the stream Thy flowing wounds supply. Redeeming love has been my theme. And shall be, till I die. 5. Then, in a nobler, sweeter song, I '11 sing thy power to save, When this poor lisping, stamm'ring tongue Lies silent in the grave. 119 TRIUMPH. 10s. UEv. A. 1. Joy -ful-ly, joy- Bound for the land of bright spi - rits a - bovc ; M A n - ge - lie ng-ing, to cho - ris - ters cheer me thro' d slug, as I eath's chilling gloom, p4 1 Joy -ful-ly, Joy -ful-ly, jo jo y-ful-ly 1 y-ful-ly 1 laste to thy lastc to thy 1^ J Sl'IKlTUAL SONUS. Soon, Avitli my pil - grimage end - ed be - low, Sounds of sweet me - lo - dy fall on my ear; Home to tlie land of bright spi-rits I go ; Harps of the bless - cd, yoxir voi - ccs I hear ! 1:^1:1:^=^:1:==: li^iiliiiiiiil Pil - grim and stran-gcr no more shall I roam — Rings with the bar - mo - ny heaven's high dome — =^:z5tz=p:p=.— =;=:i:pi:z:i--*q[:==T Joy - ful - ly, joy - ful - ly rest - ing at home. "Joy-ful-ly, joy - fal - ly haste to thy home." I ^ I For third vorsi-, sec the tnllowin? paie. SPlKll'VAL SONIjS. 1-21 Death, with thy weapons of war ow , Strike King of terrors-I fear no the blow ; Jesus hath broken tlic bars of the tomb : Joyfully, joyfully will I go home. Bright will the morn of eternity dawn ; Death shall be banish'd-his sceptre be gone ; Joyfully then shall I witness his doom- Joyfully, joyfully-safely at home. THE CHRISTIAN VICTOK. [Adopteil to the j)irced!,H/ ("iic'i, 1 Happy the spirit released from its clay ; ■ Happy the soul that goes bounding away— Sino-ing, as upward it hastes to the skies, •'Vfctory". victory '.—homeward I nse. ^lany the toils it has pass'd through below. Many the seasons of trial and woe ; Alauy the doubtings— it never should sing •■ Victory '. victory '." thus on the wing. There lies the wearisome body at rest; Closed are its eyelids, and quiet its breast; But the glad spirit, on pinions of light, •' Victory ! victory!" sings in its flight. While we are weeping our friends gone from carlh. Angels are singing their heavenly birth— " Welcome, 0 welcome to our happy shore ; Victory I victory I— weep yo no more." :!. How can we wish them rcoall'd from their hoim'. Longer in sorrowing exile to roam ? Safely they pass'd from their troubles beneath, "Victory! victory!" shouting iu death. Thus let them slumber, till Christ from the skies. Bids them in glorified bodies arise— Singing, as upward they spring from the toinb. •• vfctory : victory !— Jc-jeot is to ake him ■ -0 0- till the ^ ami to ^ orkl shall have glo - ri - fy his a- nend. God. ■6. In sickness, pain, and sorrow, he never will repine. While he is drawing nourishment from Christ the living vine ; ^Vhen trouble presses heavily he leans on Jesus' breast, And in his precious promises he finds a quiet rest : Tlic yoke of Christ is easy, and his burden always light ; He lives — ^nor is he weary till Canaan heaves in sight. 4. 'Tis thus j-ou have his histoi'y through life, from day to day: Religion is no mystery : — with him 'tis a beaten way : And when upon his pillow he lies down to die. In hope he rejoices, for he knows his God is nigh : And when life's lamp is flickering, his soul, on wings of love. Away to realms of glory flies, to reign with Christ above. 11 130 SPIRITUAL n it 1. Let par - ty names no more The m Oen-tlk and free, Are one in ? 0- ::=t: Head.— Are one in Christ their Head. 131 Let mutual love be found ; cirs of the same inheritam 3. Let envy and deceit earns of bliss forever How. And every heart is love. EXPERIENCE. 8, 5, 8, 5, 5, 7, 5, 4. ii 1. ■2. ou-lit round the vc wan -cler-a in ra rdaiit ea I - zes d; th, For u rk, Of do V ^ • — ^ — IV ; I have tried eve ry .ou> ce or mirth, liuf and di"s - t ess : 1 hav<- no( had a kin. ir — ^ linsr spark. My 0 :: I all, all will e , spi-rit to bl ley: Lord,l,e ss : Cheerles \n irace to iU'd m\ m set the laV'rin^ theu turn'd to tliy gospel, Lore then trusted"^ thy holy word, Here I found release ; Weary spirit here found rest- Hope of endless bliss- Eternal day. I . I will praise now iny Hcav'nly King — I '11 praise and adore ; The heart's richest tribute bring. To thee, God of ])ower : And in heaven above — Saved by thy redeeming love- Loud the strains shall move, Forever more. l Al. SONCiS. 133 THE PUKE TESTIMONY. 1 1. The Hire tes - ti - mc - ny, put U^-- ^ ^ L ^ ^ : forth iu the Spi-rit, Cuts 1 ike a sharp two edg - ed sword, And hy - po - crites m cause they 'rccondemn'd by the word; The pure tes - ti light 0 f the cross, Aud '=1 a - by - Ion trem-bles for R-ar of lier loss. --! i^- :[i=:t=:*=:^ 0.jL.0^0-.0. ly treasures — Tr( — :=:z:t:*=:i(=:i'=:=:itz=ir:rf J-.-- T^-J — I-tH — I — i — \-T-J-.—^ heav'nly treasures — Treasures never wax - ing old. —0—0- Let our best af - fee - tions cen - tre On the SPIRITUAf. flONOS. 141 things a - round the throne : There no thief can 0.^-0 — 0 0 ' ev - er en-tei- ; Moth and rust are there unknown. — :=:zz:=:=±-fz:i^-^-tz±t=*-:i=" Earthly joys no longer please us ; Here would we renounce them all ; Seek our only rest in Jesus, — Him our Lord and Master call. Faith, our languid spirits cheering. Points to brighter worlds above ; Bids us look for his appearing ; Bids us triumph in his love. May our light be always burning. And our loins be girded round, Waiting for our Lord's returning, — Longing for the welcome soiind. Thus the Christian life adorning. Never need we be afraid. Should he come at night or morning, Early dawn or evening shade. 142 WHEN SHALL AVE ALL MEET AGAIN V lllpllli)ONi;S. 143 I. ^Yhen the dreams of life are fieil, When its wasted lamp is dead, When, in cold oblivion's shade, Beauty, wealth, and fame are laid ; Where immortal spirits reign. There may we all meet again. Note.— This poetry, it is said, w.is " composed and suug by tliice Indiana, who were educated at Dartmouth, at their last interview before leaving college, in an enchanting bower, whither they had often resorted, and in the midst of which grew a ' youthful pine.' Nearly half a century afterwards they providentially met again— the recollection of bygone days drew them to the same spot, and, at a meeting still more affecting, they composed and sung the fol- lowing."— Tradition. THE MEETING. 1. Parted many a toil-spent year, Pledged in youth to mem'ry dear ; Still, to friendship's magnet true. We our social joys renew ; Bound by love's unsever'd chain. Here, on earth, we meet again. '2. But our bower, sunk to decay, Wasting time has swept away ; And the youthful evergreen, Lopp'd by death, no more is seen ; Bleak the winds sweep o'er the plain. When, in age, we meet again. .'3. Many a friend we used to greet. Here, on earth, no more we meet : Oft the fuu'ral kuell has rung ; Many a heart has sorrow stung, Since we parted on this plain, Fearing ne'er to meet again. 4. Worn with toil, and sunk with years. We shall quit this vale of tears ; And these hoary locks be laid Low in cold oblivion's shade ; But, where saints and angels reign, Wc all hope to meet again I 144 Sl'lKlTUAL SUNCii THE CHARIOT. 12s. Williams. 1. Tlio chariot ! the chariot I — its wheels roll in fire, 2. The glo - ry ! the glo - ry ! around him array'd ; As the Lord Cometh down iu the pomp of his ire ; Migh -ty hosts of the an - gels now wait on the Lord- iiiillisiSiii Lo ! self-mov - iug, it drives on its path-way of cloud, And the glo - ri - fied saints and the mar-tyrs are there, l:=:tif:t=-t=:t:±:tizt-ti±:t=t iiiiSiiilSli And the heav'iis with the hur-den of God-head are bow'd. And there all who the palm-leaves of vie - to - ry wear. sl'lUin AL SUMis. 145 The trumpet 1 the trumpet ! the dead all have heard ; Lo I the depths of the stone-cover'd charnel are stirr'd ! From the sea, from the earth, from the south, from the north, All the vast generations of men are come forth. Tho judgment ! the judgment ! — the tlu-ones all ai-e set, Where the Lamb and the white-vested elders are met ! There all flesh is at once in the sight of the Lord, And the doom of eternity hangs on his word. 0 mercy ! O mercy ! — \>tok down from above, Gi-eat Creator, on us, thy sad children, with love ! When beneath to their darkness the wicked are driven. May our justified souls find a welcome in heaven I THE YOUNG CONVERT. C. M. S. Hill. iii^iilsiipi I. ^\ hen converts first be - gin to sing — Their hap-py souls are on the wing — ;1 — Won-der, wou-der, won - der ; ) ,ni • ii „ • „ii „„ Glo - rv, hal - le - In - jah! ) " iHiilEliiiiiiiii 146 SI'IRirUAI, SONOS. deeming love — Glo-ry, lial - le-lu-jah! Fain would they :ztz:t=&=:f=:-?=if; i be with ( T ^hrist above — Sin .0—0 g, Glory, hal - le - lu - jah! 13. T ley wonder why Wonder, wonder, )ld saints do t wonder ; 't sing — And make God's earthly temples ring — Glory, hallelujah I They view themselves upon the shore- Glory, hallelujah ! And think the battle all is o'er — Sing, Glory, hallelujah ! 3. The Bible now appears so plain- Wonder, wonder, wonder ; They wonder they should read in vain — Glory, hallelujah! The air is all perfumed with love — Glory, hallelujah! And earth appears like heaven above — Sing, Glory, hallelujah ! YE SHALL SEE ME. 1. We shall see a li-ht appear, By-and-by, when He •->. We shall shout al.ove the fire, By-and-byovheu He comes : We sha ear, When H etc. : Ride on.' Wo are on our jouvuey 3. We E Wc sec, itc. k-, &C. 148 THE SAINT'S SWEET HOME. lis. i^=5±?ii:?=Jz±i' 1. "Mid scenes of con-fu-sion and creature corn-plaints. An a-lien from God, and a stran-ger to grace, How sweet to mj' soul - mu-nion with saints! i-der'd thro' earth, its guy plea-s To find at the ban - quet of mer - cy there "s i In the path - way of sin I con - tin - ued to roam, And feel in tlie pre - sence of Je - sus at home — Un-mind-ful, n - las ! that it led me from home — m 149 home, — Pre - pare me. if dear Home, \—S— home — 1 sweet, sweet T T ,z:*z: — g I LJ J_^l.l 2(1 ending. h • t*--lt,l— I Sa-viour, for liea-ven, niv homo. The pleasures of earth I have seen fade awaj' ; They bloom for a season, but soon they Uecaj' ; But pleasures more lasting in Jesus are given. Salvation on earth and a mansion in heaven — Home, home, &c. 4. Allure me no longer, ye false glowing charms ! The Saviour invites me — I'll go to his arms; At the banquet of mercy, I hear there is room ; 0 there may I feast with his children at home — Home, home, &c. Farewell, vain amusements — my follies, adieu ; While Jesus, and heaven, and glory I view, 1 feast on the pleasures that flow from his throne. The foretaste of heaven, sweet heaven, my home — Home, home, &c. G. The days of my exile are passing away. The time is approaching when Jesus will say. 150 -ii'iurn Ai. SONGS. Well clone, faithful servant, sit clown on my throne. And dwell in my presence, forever at homo. Home, home, &c. Affliction, and sorrow, and death shall be o'er. The saints will unite to be parted no more ; Their loud hallelujahs fill heaven's high dome. They dwell with their Saviour forever at home. Home, home — sweet, sweet home, — Receive me, dear Saviour, to glory, my home. THE PROMISES. lAihptcd to the tunc on the following pi^e-l I. How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord, Is laid for your faith in his excellent word ! AVhat more can he say than to you he hath said, Vou, who unto Jesus for refuge have fled ? '2. In every condition, in sickness or health. In poverty's vale, or abounding in wealth ; At home, or abroad, on the land, on the sea, As thy days may demand shall thy strengtli ever be. ?,. When through the deep waters I call thee to go. The rivers of woe shall not thee overflow ; For I will be with thee thy troubles to bless, And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress. 4. When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie. My grace, all suflScient, shall be thy supply ; 'I'lie flame shall not hurt thee — I only design Thy dross to consume and thy gold to refine. .5. Even down to old age, all my people shall prove My sovereign, eternal, unchangeable love ; And when hoary hairs shall their temples adorn, Like lambs they shall still on my bosom be borne. C. The soul that on Jesus doth lean for repose, I will not, I will not desert to his foes ; Tliat soul though all hell should endeavor to shake, I '11 never — no, never — no, never forsake. DELAY NOT. t bn Is f^ec : m The love and compassion of Jesus thy God ? A fountain is open'd — how canst thou refuse To wash and be cleansed in his pard'ning blood : 3. Delay not, delay not, 0 sinner, to come — For mercy still lingers, and calls thee to-day ; ller voice is not heard in the shades of the tomb — Her message, unheeded, will soon pass away. 4. Delay not, delay not — tlie Spirit of grace, Long grieved and resisted, may take its sad flight, And leave thee in darkness to finish thy race, To sink in the gloom of eternity's night. 5. Delay not, delay not — tlic hour is at hand ; The earth sliall dissolve, and the heavens shall fade ; The dead, small and groat, in the judgment shall stand ; What helper, then, sinner, shall lend thee his aid? 52 SI'lKirUAl. SONGS. THE BANK OF HEAVEN. C. M. Tune— ZERAII 1. I have a nev - er - fail - ing bank, A 2. 'T is when my stock is spent and gone, And more than gold - en store ; No earth - ly bank is I with -out a groat, I'm glad to has - ten ihalf so rich — How then can I be poor '? — No earth-ly to my bank. And beg a lit - tie note : — I 'm glad to zq*:=edr[:^:iii:i=i=izi=|;i:^--;iri r It t; l.iank is half so rich — How then can I be poor ? has-ten to my bank, And beg a lit - tie note. ril'IKliXAl. bONOS. 3 Sometimes my Banker, smiling, says Why do n't you oft'ner come And, when you draw a little note, Why not a larger sum ? 4 - Why live so niggardly and poor ? Your bank contains a plenty ; Why come and take a one-pound note, When you might have a twenty / 5 " Yea, twenty thousand, ten times told, Is but a trifling sum. To what your Father has laid up, Secure in God his Son." G Since then my Banker is so rich, I have no cause to borrow : I '11 live upon my cash to-day. And draw again to-morrow. 7 I 've been a thousand times before, \nd never was rejected ; Sometimes my Banker gives me more Than ask'd for or e-xpected. S Sometimes I 've felt a little proud, I 've managed things so clever ; But ah ! before the day was gone 1 'vc felt as poor as ever. 9 Sometimes with blushes on my face. Just at the door I stand ; I know if Moses keep me back, I surely must be daiim d. 10 T know my bank will never break- No, it can never fail : _ The firm— Three persons m one God , Jehovah— Lord of all ! ] 1 Should all the banks of Britain break. The Bank of England smash- Bring in your notes to Zion s bank. You 'U surely have your cash. 153 SPIRITUAL SOJJtiS. 12. And if you have but one small note, Fear not to bring it in ; Come boldly to this bank of grace — The Banker is within. 1 ;-!. All forged notes will be refused, Man's merits are rejected ; There's not a single note will pass That God has not accepted. 1 i. 'T is only those beloved of God, Redeem'd by precious blood. That ever had a note to bring — These are the gifts of God. 15. Though thousand ransom'd souls may say, They have no notes at all — Because they feel the plague of sin. So ruin'd by the fall: IG. This bank is full of precious notes. All sign'd, and seal'd, and free — Though many doubting souls may say, T'here is not one for me. 17. Base unbelief will lead the child To say what is not true ; I tell the soul who feels self-lost. These notes belong to you. IS. The leper had a little note— "Lord, if thou wilt thou can!" The Banker cash'd his little note, And heal'd the sickly man. 19. We read of one young man, indeed, Whose riches did abound ; But in the Banker's book of grace. This man was never found. 20. But see the wretched dying thief, Hang by the Banker's side : He cried, " Dear Lord, remember me !" He got his cash — and died. INDEX TO HYMNS. Ul IS, WcM Pi^c 1.'4 liiirkslider s Lament, the Baoksluler s Return, the Bank ot Heaven, the l.'i 46 1 )_' Kihle. the l ' Uunal ot Mrs. Judson, the lU C ull to Smuers, a ( hanot, the 141 Christian's Experience, the 131 (. hristuui's Farewell C hristian's l-arewell, the ( hristian bokher, the (Ki ( hn.stiau's Sousr. the -^f, ( hnstian Victor, the ( hnstian's Vovaw. the Clirist in the Garden 11 Christ's Crucihx.1011 1:i Cross, the 4K Daniel in the Lion s Den 7!) Daniel s VV isdom Delay not 1.^)1 Description of the Children ot God Dies IriB 21 Dviii'' Itov. the 1 1 •> DvuiL' Oirl to her Sister, the -Jii J'.ihcacv of the .\touiug Blood 117 I'aithfiil Seiiiinel, the 110 I'amily Bible, the 101 Orlory be to God alone 103 Good Morninsr, Brother Pilijnm 57 Gvspc'I bhip, the 62 Gospel bteamer, the 10 Happy Man. the 71, 128 Heavenly Pilgrim, the 15 Heavenly Uailroiul .. CB Heavenly S")iiiidinj;s Si; loG INDEX TO UVMNS. lie doeth all things well Page 32 Here is a Band of Brethren dear 18 Hermit, the 53 Home 111 Heaven 47 Home of the Soul 67 How sweet the Memory of the Dead 96 I have no I'ather there 105 liuiuiu s Expeneuoe, the 54 Knights of Malta 50 Tjast Trumpet s Sound, the 65 Lav up nearer. Brother 69 Lite of a Christian, the 3 Little Hvinn. the 94 Magnetic Toh-rai.Ii, the 39 March al■ouna^T,■nls:Llcnl 19 Meal and Cruse of ( lil, the 4 Ministry of Angels, the 43 Missionary s Grave, the 61 Mote and lieam. the 30 Mountaineer's Farewell, the 56 My Father's Land 86 Xan-uw Way, the 51 New Gospel Sliip, the 66 Oft in the Stilly Night 122 < >ld Family Bible, the 87 ( »ld Israelites, the 105 Old Oak-Ti ec, the 28 One in Christ .lesus 130 Our bondage it shall end 68 Our Kindred dear to Heaven have gone 97 I'rodigal's Return, the 108 Promises, the 150 Pure Testimony, the 133 Resurrection Hymn, the 91 Ruler's Daughter, the 116 Saerifieo, the 71! Sttiiif* S« ....•( H..IU-. tlie 148 Saw eiv Savi.iUi 8 Star 'in tlie East, the 102 Scattered Household, the 33 Selling Heaven 61 Sceptic, spare that Book 9 Slave's Appeal, the 29 IXUKX lU KlKSr LINKS Ol- 11VM>>;. 157 Tempest, the Page 34 Thev know not what they do . 35 Three Friends, (the)— The Separation 142 •• Meeting 143 Triumph of the Christian 110 Vain w orld, adieu ! 12t'> Vaudois Teacher, the 4, thou _i( :il Creator f 29 <», lady lair tlioe silks of mine 40 Once 1 loved my Redeemer, his flock and his fold 45 O, they crucified my Saviour 91 Our bondage, it shall end by-and-by 68 Our kindred dear to heaven have gone 97 (), whore is my father — my guardian, my guide 33 f), w here can the soul find relief from its foes 67 I'arted many a toil-spent year 143 INDEX TO KlRr^T LINES OK IIYM^•^^. lO.< Saw ye my Saviour ? Saw ye my haviouv > I'age Sceptic, spare that Book •••• -.^ She clung to him with woman s lo^e .^^ Since meridian light commences The chariot ! the chariot !-its wheels roU m fii. 1^^+ The Christian Pilgrim sings The dream is past— I m dying now The Gospel Ship has Ion- been sailing The line to heaven by Christ wa. made ,^ The mMning sun rose bright and clear ■■■■■■^ The "d IraeUtes knew -1-* i^^?,; 'li^;??'''' Hi The pure testimony, put forth m tlie >pint There is an eye that never sleeps There is a fountain till'd with blood There is a place where my hopes are stu) d The Son of Man they; did betrav This Book is all that s left me uovv - '•^p^- ,1 Through tribulation deep.. :-'"V"VrV ' 86 To heaven I'm bound with prosp rous gaUs 140 Vain are all terrestrial pleasures We have come from the mountains. We shaU see a li^ht appear^ 3^ We were crowded in the cabin...... ^ We 've found the Rock, the travellers cried A\niat poor despised company^ , When shall we all meet asain Whit's this that steals, tlat steals upon my frame A\Tien converts first begin to sing When for eternal worlds we sleei When I set out for glory....... When Joseph his brethren behe d When nature was sinking in stillness to rest When pitv prompts me to look round When the last trumpet's sound.... Which of the petty kings of earth Whither goest thou, pilgrim stranger .' Why these fears ?— behold 'tis Jesus Woodman, spare that tree Ye people that wonder at me and mj ways Ye who know your sins forgiven 12i INDEX TO TUNES. All is Well. 10s, 3s & 8s Page 124 Bank of Heaven. CM 152 Burial of Mrs. Judson. Cs & 5s, or 10s & lis lU Burst, ye Emerald Gates. 7s & 6s 10" Chariot. 11 & 12s 11+ Delay Not. lis 151 Dying Boy. G, 10, 10, i 112 K.N.poricnof'. 8, 5, 8, 5, .5, 7. 5, 4 131 Faithful Sentinel, lis & 12s 110 Fountain. C. M 117 (iospel Freedom. 8s ..t 7s 13G Hanover, lis & 10s 102 Happy Man. 13s & 12 128 I have no Father there. CM 99 Oft in the Stilly Night. 6, 7, 6, 7, 8, 7, 8, 7, G, 7, 6, 7 122 Old Israelites. 12s & 9s 105 Orestes. 8s & 7s 140 Prodigal's Return. C M 108 Pure Testimony. 12s, 8s & lis 133 Patler's Daughter, lis, or 6s & Ds 116 Saint's Sweet Home, lis & 5 148 Sonnet. 8s & 4 126 Triumph. 10s 110 Tnity. S. M 130 Voyage. 6, 6, 6, 6, 8, 8, or H. M 138 When shall we all meet again ? 7s, 6 lines 142 Ye shall see me. 7, 6, 7, 3, 7, 7 147 Yonng Convert. C. M 145 Zerah. C. M 152