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" "JUN 16 1936 
 
 JOSEPH THOMAS, 
 
 THE PILGRIM: 
 
 TO WHICH IS PREFIXED 
 
 A COMPEND OF THE LIFE, 
 
 HUVELS AND GOSPEL LABOURS 
 OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 LEBANON, OHIO: 
 
 PRINTED AT THE OFFICE OF THE 
 
 WESTERN STAS, 
 
 1829, 
 
LIFE, TRAVELS, &t. 
 
 JOSEPH THOMAS. 
 
 I Joseph Thomas, was born in North Caro- 
 lina, Orange county, March the 7th, 1791. 
 My parents were natives of Pennsylvania, who 3 
 in an early period of their lives, soon after be- 
 ing wedded together, emigrated to the place 
 where I was born. Being among the first of the 
 qettlers who penetrated the uncultivated wilds 
 of that part of the country, they soon found 
 that frugality and industry were indispensibie 
 to their subsistence ; consequently became m=> 
 nured to the common hardships of a laboring 
 life, by which they shortly obtained a comfort- 
 able competency. Not many years rolled a- 
 way, till they found themselves possessed of a. 
 :onsiderable share of honest wealth, surround- 
 2d with several children — sons and daughters, 
 The Revolutionary war came on, which spread 
 levastation and death over that section orT 
 country . The British, commanded by Lord 
 Sundered and devoured the 
 
remains of my father's property, excepting hi: 
 land. 
 
 After this war, my parents, by their industry, i 
 repaired their wasted fortune, and obtained the:; 
 second time, a sufficient living. But alas! the' 
 day of prosperity soon passed away, and wat 
 succeeded by the storms of adversity, affliction 
 and distress. The property they had accumu- ( 
 Iated, by a change of times, with a course oh 
 intemperance, on my father's part, was spent.) 
 scattered and entirely wasted! By this time, 
 they had nine living children, seven sons and) 
 two daughters, the most of whom were grown 
 men and women, but myself, being the young- 
 est child. 
 
 The first seven years of my life, I had the 
 guardian care of a dear father and the affec- 
 tionate attention of a fond mother, in which 
 time I was taught to read, write and cypher. 
 In the year 1798, hard necessity compelled that 
 I should be separated from my parents, and 
 from my once peaceful home ! My abode was 
 now appointed me in a strange, inhospitable 
 and cruel family ! It was stipulated, that, while 
 here, I should go to school ; but my ungenerous 
 host evaded this, and engrossed my time en- 
 owd purposes. At this unfriendly 
 
place, I dwelt almost two years, and every leis- 
 ure hour, I employed myself in reading the 
 books my father had given me, among which, 
 my favorites were the Economy of Human Life i 
 and the New Testament. 
 
 At this place I was cruelly treated, suffering 
 the extremes of hunger and cold, <fec. &c. Here 
 I often bewailed my parents' misfortunes, and 
 the loss of my former home, and learned by hard 
 necessity, the distressing condition of many 
 helpless children, who are constrained from 
 their parents, to dwell among unfeeling stran- 
 gers. During this period I thought about dy- 
 ing, and much about eternity, which, with my 
 natural disposition, caused me to be more sol- 
 emn and melancholy, than boys at that age 
 commonly are. 
 
 When I was about nine years old, one of my 
 brothers (who was then a married man) living 
 in Grayson county, Virginia, came and took 
 me away from this cruel and inhospitable 
 place, and I cheerfully w T ent home with him, 
 about 150 miles from the place of my nativity. 
 Being now, more than before, among strangers, 
 I continued to feel melancholy and as an or- 
 phan cast upon the mercy of a friendless world. 
 I had no one to look to for protection, advice, 
 A 2 
 
e 
 
 or for sustenance but my brother. He was 
 kind to me and soon engaged me to a school, 
 near his abode, to which I went some months 
 and made a pleasing proficiency in reading, 
 writing and arithmetic. 
 
 In December 1801, when I was nearly ten 
 years old, I was taken with the White Swelling 
 in my left knee, and was soon unable to walk, 
 or to stand upon my feet during the space of 
 eighteen months. In this time I felt the most 
 excrutiating pain that humanity is capable of 
 supporting. It was long anticipated from day 
 to day, by myself and those who saw me, that 
 my agonies and affliction, would soon termin- 
 ate in death. Once, while lying helpless on my 
 bed, ray brother being absent, my sister-in-law 
 found occasion to leave home. Previous to 
 her going, she carried in some dry fuel and laid 
 it in the chimney place, between the fire and 
 chimney side. In a short time after her depar- 
 ture, the fuel caught fire and conveyed it to the 
 v/ood of which the chimney was composed, and 
 there soon kindled into a furious blaze, roaring 
 up the chimney and gathering into the logs on 
 that part of the house. Lying with my face 
 towards the fire, I apprehended the danger: 
 but was utterly unable to move out of the place 1 
 
My thoughts and feelings on this occasion were 
 inexpressible, for death, to all appearance, was 
 inevitable. 1 tried, but tried in vain to escape 
 from my bed, and found no alternative but to 
 resign myself to the mercy of God, and to the 
 devouring element. The fire increased until 
 one side of the chimney was burnt through and 
 the end logs of the house considerably kindled. 
 But what was astonishing and pleasing to me 
 by the time I thought the blaze would be kind- 
 ling in the roof, it descended the chimney and 
 presently subsided. And yet the more was I 
 convinced of the interposition of divine good- 
 ness, when in a few hours the tire became entire- 
 ty extinguished ! This I thought was the 'Lord's 
 doings and marvellous in my eyes.' From this 
 singular deliverance, (as 1 esteemed it) I re- 
 ceived an impression, that God would preserve 
 me, and not let me die with my present com- 
 plaint. 
 
 While in this affliction, the misdemeanors 
 and sins of my past days came into review, and 
 I felt the compunctions of a guilty conscience. 
 I sincerely regretted my sins and promised a 
 better course of life, if I should be spared. I 
 found comfort in the gospel promises and be-^ 
 lieved I was prepared to die. 
 
8 
 
 In the month ot March 1803, after being con- 
 fined near eighteen months to my bed, in which 
 time one of the bones of my leg was taken out, 
 with the loss of many small pieces, I was again 
 able to stand on my feet, and to walk by the aid 
 of crutches. Not long after this till I could walk 
 without their assistance ! I now viewed myself 
 as a miracle of God's almighty goodness — as a 
 stranger upon the stage of action, and as one 
 Who had just come from the regions of the grave 
 and shadow ofdeath!! 
 
 iVot long after being restored to my feet^ till 
 I lost sight of the goodness of God, forgot the 
 solemn promises I had made to him, and again 
 be^an to wander in the forbidden paths of 
 youthful folly and sin. In a few weeks I was 
 taken with a complaint similar to that with 
 which I was so severely afflicted in my leg, in 
 my opposite thigh bone, and was soon unable 
 to walk. In this attack, I was again severely 
 afflicted, and for some months confined to my 
 bed, and it was now thought I never would 
 walk any more. I again renewed my promise! 
 and besought the Lord to have mercy on me. 
 In a few months, beyond the most sanguine ex- 
 pectations, I was enabled, the second time, to 
 rise and walk, and was looked upon &3 a won- 
 
uer, while I was seen running and playing with 
 my former associates ! 
 
 Early in the year 1803, I was removed to 
 Montgomery (now Giles) county, Virginia, to 
 take my residence with a brother, who at that 
 time, kept Batchelor's Hall. He was then a 
 frolicksome young man, and the people, old 
 and young about that place, generally were 
 uncivil and wicked. I was, of course, insensi- 
 bly drawn froin the paths of morality and re- 
 ligion, and too often constrained to imitate 
 seme of the practices predominant around me 
 
 In the latter end of the same year, I was re- 
 moved to neighbor Andrew Johnston's, on New 
 river, in the same county, as a boarder to go to 
 school. In this man I found a friend, and the 
 first moral preceptor I had met with. I have 
 since always remembered him with gratitude 
 and affection, for the moral and wholesome in" 
 structions which he gave me, during my stay 
 with him. My teacher also became partial 
 and particularly attentive to me. 1 took the 
 best advantage, and made the wisest improve- 
 ment from the instructions of these men, that I 
 could. Here I dwelt about one year, in which 
 time I found myself far advanced in arithmetic, 
 considcrablv so in mathematics geo 
 A3 
 
10 
 
 When my time expired here, Mr. Johnston 
 would receive nothing for my boarding, nor 
 the teacher for my tuition. During this term, 
 I had many serious reflections and often refus- 
 ed to play at school, from the solemn impres- 
 sions, sometimes made on my mind. I had a 
 Ivew Testament which I carried with me, 
 which, in all my leisure hours, I read with great 
 pleasure, and became particularly fond of 
 those places that spake of the bessed Jesus, the 
 Saviour of the world, and of the miracles and 
 wonderful works which he wrought among men. 
 My mind was often seriously exercised, and I 
 frequently dreamed of attending the sermons 
 and the travels of the Saviour, where thousands 
 were congregated. I often imagined, in my 
 sleeping hours, that I was preaching the gospel 
 to hundreds and thousands, in different parts of 
 the world ! ! 
 
 In November 1304, 1 left my benefactor, my 
 teacher and my youthful acquaintances, and 
 went to Grayson county again, and in the 
 neighborhood where I had been so much afflict- 
 ed. I hired myself to my brother's father-in- 
 law, the term of one year, for ninety dollars. 
 One third of this time I taught school, and the 
 balance I worked upon the farm. Religion 
 
n 
 
 was scarcely named by any person abont here 
 in those days. Vice and irreligion prevailed. 
 I heard one sermon in this time, which was the 
 first religious meeting I had been at since I left 
 Carolina. This discourse awakened and en* 
 couraged me to pray. Lorenzo Dow came 
 through the country about this time, and caus- 
 ed the people to talk something about religion. 
 I read his chain, which had a serious and last- 
 ing impression on my mind. I felt condemned 
 before God, Guilt hung heavy on my soul, 
 and I again more frequently resorted to prayer. 
 But I felt no relief from the convictions and an- 
 guish of a broken spirit. 
 
 In October 1805, my engagement being ful- 
 filled with the man I lived with, I received my 
 wages, and went on to Carolina, to see my mo- 
 ther and other relations I had living there. My 
 aged mother rejoiced to see me, after the ab- 
 sence of five years, and that God had preserv- 
 ed me through all the afflictions and necessities 
 that had befallen me. There was a great revi- 
 val of religion about here at this time. Preach- 
 ing and prayer meetings were frequent. I at- 
 tended some of them, and felt pleased to hear 
 the name of God praised, though I could not 
 experimentally join the glad song. After a few 
 
tt 
 
 weeks I left ray mother and other weeping 
 friends, and returned to Grayson county in 
 Virginia again. On my way, m} r heart was al- 
 most drowned with sorrow. I felt that I had 
 no home, and that I Avas destitute of the salva- 
 tion of my soul, which I desired above any thing 
 on earth. 
 
 In Grayson I hired with my brother, with 
 whom I had formerly lived, the term of three 
 months. Here my distress of mind increased, 
 and I was soon convinced that my soul was in 
 too much danger of being lost, if I continued 
 long in so wicked a place. 1 resolved that 
 when nvy time was out, I would leave this part 
 of the country. 
 
 In March 1800, I went to Carolina again, 
 the place of my nativity, and commenced liv- 
 ing with my brother James and my mother, 
 who lived together. I now went frequently to 
 meeting, and read much in the Scriptures. My 
 former convictions became more pungent and 
 my sins rose more conspicuous to my view* 
 This was in the time of the celebrated revival, 
 when it was no strange thing to hear many, old 
 and young, profess religion, and to see them 
 en/a^e in the unaccountable exercises of show- 
 
13 
 
 ting, dancing, hollowing, jumping, laughing, 
 &c. &c. 
 
 There was a great Union meeting, (by some 
 called Camp meeting) appointed to be holden 
 near where I lived, in October 1806. I looked 
 forward to this meeting with pleasing expecta- 
 tions, and strongly hoped that at it I might 
 iind the pearl of great price, the salvation of 
 my soul. At this meeting, preachers and peo- 
 ple of different denominations met. On the 
 first day of meeting, I went early to the place, 
 where, by seeing the numerous tents and wag- 
 gons already arranged on the ground, and the 
 crowds of people pressing from every direction, 
 my mind was solemnized and penitential tears 
 ^tole from my eyes. 
 
 The first sermon was delivered by a travel- 
 ling man, then immediately from Georgia, who 
 professed to belong to no party, but to the 
 church of Christ in general. His text and 
 sermon were concerning Naaman, the leper, 
 who was commanded to dip himself seven 
 times in the river Jordan. 
 
 In his description of Naaman, I thought 
 some person had told him my feelings and my 
 character. I thought the most he said was 
 aimed at, and intended for me. Near the con- 
 
14 
 
 elusion of his sermon, many had fallen to the 
 earth around me, crying for mercy, and I fell 
 among them. I sent for the preacher to come 
 and pray for me. Many prayers were offered 
 for me, but alas, my heart was too unbelieving 
 to receive the blessing I had so long sought, 
 and without which, I was now sensible I would 
 be miserable and utterly lost. 
 
 The exercises of my mind during this meet- 
 ing, were various and sometimes inexpressible. 
 At times I fe\t some consolation, and almost 
 concluded that I was redeemed from my sins, 
 by the blood of Christ. At other times, my 
 heart would so fill with unbelief, that I would 
 almost conclude there was bo mercy nor sal- 
 vation for such a wretch as I. 
 
 As the following occurrence, which took 
 place during this meeting, was so very singu- 
 lar,, and made an impression which is not yet 
 eradicated from my mind, I will here relate it. 
 Being tired and sleep}-, one night I lay down 
 in a tent, and while I slept, I imagined I saw a 
 very aged and grave man stand at the door of 
 the tent, and heard him call to me ; I answer- 
 ed (methought) and asked him who he was? 
 He said "I am Isaiah the Prophet." Upon 
 which he said to me, "rise up and I will give 
 
15 
 
 you something which come from heaven.' 3 I 
 obeyed. He then shewed me a piece of wood, 
 near the size and shape of a small man, and it 
 seemed deeply stained all over with blood, and 
 said, you have a long journey to travel which 
 you must shortly commence, and you must 
 carry this all the way with you. He then held 
 a small loaf of bread in his hand, and said, 
 * ; you must take this loaf, and when you get 
 weary and faint, eat of it. This loaf will last 
 you about forty-eight years and six months, 
 about which time, for the sake of what you car- 
 ry, strangers shall kill you." He then hand- 
 ed them to me, and told me to receive them as 
 the gifts of God. I took the wood and stood it 
 by me, and received the bread in my hand. I 
 ate a small portion of it, and immediately I felt 
 it strengthen, cheer and animate me in every 
 part, and I became so happy I could not for- 
 bear leaping, praising and thanking God. My 
 agitation awoke me. I felt happ}-, and thought 
 for a moment, that God had sent a heavenly 
 visitant to feed me upon the bread of life, and 
 had converted my soul while I slept. But my 
 comfort shortly fled, unbelief again beclouded 
 my mind, and I went to the stand where the 
 preachers were, and requested them to pray for 
 
16 
 
 mc. But I could not feel my soul fully reliev- 
 ed from doubts and sorrow. 
 
 On the eighth day from the commencement 
 of this meeting, it drew to a close. During this 
 time, the love of God was manifested in the 
 union of his children of different professions, in 
 the conversion of many souls, and in the con- 
 viction of many others who left the ground 
 seeking the Lord. I left the ground solemn 
 and mournful, not fully believing I had yet ob- 
 tained the forgiveness of my sins.. After this 
 meeting, I continued to seek the Saviour, by 
 constantly attending meetings, by private 
 praj-er, and by an attentive reading of the 
 Scriptures. I was for some time tossed to and 
 fro in my mind, sometimes almost sunk in dis- 
 pair, burdened with grief and sorrow, and at 
 other times felt glad that the Lord had showed 
 me so much mercy. For some months the ex- 
 ercises of my mind, were so conflicting and dis- 
 tressing, that my flesh reduced almost to a skel- 
 eton, and I could enjoy but little comfort in 
 an} r thing on earth. 
 
 On the Tth of May 1307, earl}- in the morn- 
 ing, having spent the night previous, in groans 
 and tears, I arose and sought a private place 
 ft) a distant wood; where I often had reported, 
 
17 
 
 determining, if there were yet mercy with God 
 lor me, I would wrestle with him in prayer, till 
 I would find deliverance from the intolerable 
 burden that pressed my sorrowful soul. I found 
 the place I sought, and sometime after sun rise, 
 I found the Lord Jesus. — The love of God was 
 shed abroad in my heart — I found the blessing 
 I had so long sought, and for which I had shed 
 to many tears, and uttered so many groans. 
 O! the glory, the transporting joys that filled 
 Bay soul ! Had I the wings of an eagle, and the 
 voice of a trumpet, I would have declared to 
 the whole world, the wonders God had wrought 
 on my soul. The joys of that day were unut» 
 terable and never to be forgotten. 
 
 Immediately when I experienced this change, 
 a manifestation of equal plainness was made 
 to my mind, that I should follow Jesus in the 
 Ordinance of baptism, by immersion, as a pub- 
 lic testimony of my faith in him, and of my 
 hope in the resurrection of the body to eternal 
 life. It was also made plain to me at the same 
 time, that I should have to preach the gospel, 
 and not only to those who are nigh, hut also to 
 those afar off. Some days I enjoyed uninter- 
 rupted peace and great tranquillity of soul. 
 
 Not long till my mind became exercised on 
 
18 
 
 the subject of connecting myself to some reli- 
 gious denomination. To be suited in this mat- 
 ter, I was involved in deep concern and delib- 
 eration, as 1 found it ditncult to determine for 
 the best. It was now evidently my duty, 
 when I presented myself as a petitioner to a 
 church for membership, I should also offer my- 
 self a candidate for the ministry of the gospel. 
 I had been made acquainted with the principal 
 doctrines, and with the church government of 
 the Presbyterian, the Methodists, the Calvin- 
 istic and Freewill Baptists. The Presbyterian 
 or the Baptist church would have suited me in 
 point of their government; but their doctrine, 
 to my mind, so evidently opposed the doctrine 
 of the Scriptures, and the whole course of my 
 experience, that I thought it unnecessary to of- 
 fer myself to either. The most of the impor- 
 tant points of the Methodist doctrine, seemed 
 to accord with my faith ; but their government 
 appeared to me, to be so evidently contrary to 
 that of the primitive church of Christ, and such 
 as I thought would abridge that liberty which 
 the Lord had just given me, I could not, in con- 
 science, offer myself to them. I conversed with 
 a Freewill Baptist preacher, concerning his 
 doctrine, government, kc. I shortly found soma 
 
19 
 
 things in the way, and such that prevented my 
 joining in membership with him. I then re- 
 quested him to baptise me by immersion, but he 
 would not, unless I would join his faith and 
 order. This was a source of grief to my soul, 
 as I already began to discover this difficulty, 
 that I would either have to sacrifice my con- 
 science and m} r faith, or, as I thought, stand 
 alone and be opposed by the surrounding sects. 
 
 About this time I heard of a people who call- 
 ed themselves Christians, and who professed to 
 take the Scriptures for their rule of faith and 
 practice. I was informed where one of their 
 preachers lived. — I went to see him, to get in- 
 formation on this subject, which at this time 
 gave me great concern. 
 
 He informed me that they, as a people, re- 
 garded the Scriptures as the only rule of faitli 
 and practice ; that they held open and free com- 
 munion with all christians ; that they owned 
 no name but Christian — that there were no 
 Popes, Bishops, nor Presiding Elders amongst 
 them ; and that they were all alike amenable to 
 each other, and had an equal voice in all mat- 
 ters that concerned the church. I rejoiced to 
 hear of such a people, for this seemed to be the 
 plan most favorable to christian liberty, and 
 
20 
 
 the most similar to that church established un- 
 der the Apostles. I then told him of the exer* 
 cises of my mind concerning the ministry. He 
 encouraged me, and informed me where I 
 might see a number of those preachers at a 
 meeting, to beholden in Raleigh, N. Carolina, 
 about fifty miles distant, to whom he thought 
 I had better present myself as a candidate for 
 the ministry. Shortly after thi9, [presented my* 
 self to the church, of which this man (B. Rainey) 
 was pastor, for membership amongst them. They 
 received me as a member, and gave me license as 
 anexhorter. I now began to close up my little 
 worldly concerns, and prepare for an itinerant 
 life in the gospel. 1 exercised in exhortation fre- 
 quently through the neighborhood, hut my efforts 
 were weak and much ridiculed by many who heard 
 toe. Many excuses and difficulties I brought for- 
 ward to exonerate myself from the arduous and 
 important task that imposed on me. But nothing 
 less than a compliance, promised any relief to my 
 troubled mind. My mother, relations, and the 
 most of those who conversed on the subject, rig- 
 idly opposed the undertaking. And had 1 not 
 been strongly convinced, that the spirit of the 
 Lord inspired and moved me to the work, I would 
 not have assumed a calling for which I thought 
 myself so little qualified. I counted the cost-^I 
 
a 
 
 determined to obey God, rather than be intimidat- 
 ed by man, or overcome by inferior obstacles. 
 
 I now surrendered all pretensions to the advan- 
 tages of this world, and to the gratification of car- 
 nal appetites. I bade farewell to ease, to the 
 hopes of honor, to the popularity, and to the 
 friendship of a gain-saying generation, and freely 
 sacrificed them all upon the cross of Christ, re- 
 solving to follow the footsteps of Jesus, whom I 
 now took to be my only friend. I considered my- 
 self starting on a mission, the most important ever 
 engaged in by man, and on a pursuit which was 
 to occupy my constant and assiduous attention, 
 during the remainder of my days. 
 
 The 19th day of October 1807, when I was s!xi 
 teen years and about nine months old, I bade fare- 
 well to my mother, my relations, and to a sneer- 
 ing world, and started for the meeting in Raleigh, 
 and thence to people and lands unknown In go- 
 ing six miles 1 was upon strange ground ! I travel- 
 led fourteen miles, and tarried all night with an 
 old christian preacher, Elder Debruler, who I 
 soon learned was going to the same meeting. 
 Next morning we went on about thirty miles into 
 the neighborhood of Raleigh, and held meeting. 
 Here I was called upon to speak. The cross was 
 great — I spake but little and closed with mortified 
 and discouraged feelings. I soon retired and 
 
22 
 
 spent the most of the afternoon in prayer, medp 
 tation and reading. 
 
 Friday 22d, we went on to Raleigh, where I was 
 introduced to a family with whom I was received 
 during 1 the meeting. At 12 o'clock preaching 
 commenced. Here were James O'Kelly, and Will- 
 iam Guiry, the most eminent and popular of that 
 church in the Southern regions. During this 
 meeting, I opened my mind to J. O'Kelly on the 
 subject of baptism, and desired him to immerse 
 me. But in explaining the nature and use of bap- 
 tism to me, he made it mean pouring. — I believed 
 from his age, experience and abilities of mind, he 
 must be right, and on the Sabbath day of the meet- 
 ing, I was baptised (as we then called it) in that 
 way. I was received by the preachers, as one li- 
 censed to make trial of my ministerial abilities. 
 Here were four candidates, young men, besides 
 myself, presented themselves at this meeting for 
 the ministry. All were received, and each was 
 appointed to travel and labor with an Rider, till 
 the next union meeting, which was to convene in 
 six months. 
 
 I was appointed to travel with J. Warren, on 
 James' river and some of the lower counties of 
 Virginia Before I left Raleigh I was ridiculed 
 and insulted by a Methodist preacher, whom I 
 took to be a Deist, until I was informed otherwise. 
 By this I found, that not only the non-professor 
 
23 
 
 but sectarians, whose policy and craft I did not 
 promote, would oppose and endeavor to hinder 
 my progress in the cause I had espoused. 
 
 From this meeting I started in company with 
 my intended preceptor and benefactor, and two 
 other preachers ; and we travelled together four 
 days. We held several meetings, and I being 
 -called on to officiate, either if I refused or com- 
 plied, I felt confounded and ashamed, and was 
 goon convinced that the preachers were of opinion 
 my inability would disparage and injure the cause 
 I wished to support. I now was upwards of two 
 hundred miles from home, a stranger in a strange 
 part of the world, having no friend to assist, en- 
 courage or strengthen me in the glorious cause I 
 had espoused. 
 
 Friday, 29th October, I and the man I was to 
 travel with, parted from the other preachers, and 
 fell upon a long chain of appointments, which had 
 been previously given out for him. I soon found 
 my companion was an irritable, illiterate man; 
 and so little acquainted with human nature, that 
 he knew not how to make proper allowances for 
 inexperience and youth. Believing I could not 
 perform as an exceptable preacher, he became tir- 
 ;dof me, and frequently advised me to give up the 
 task and go home' He often tried to offend and 
 mortify me in private, and in company. One day 
 while speaking, I observed I considered myself a« 
 
24 
 
 a lamb sent out among wolves , &c. At this a man 
 in the congregation took offence — rose up and com* 
 manded me to hush, and with an angry counte- 
 nance, coming forward , seemed determined , as he 
 said, if I did not hush to pull me down. Some of 
 the people interfered, and the congregation were 
 generally disturbed. The preacher told me, 
 he thought this was an evidence that I was doing 
 harm and ought to quit. But I told him I took this 
 as a trial for my faith, and not as an evidence that I 
 was not called to the ministry. 
 
 We travelled on through Mecklinburgh, Lunen* 
 burgh, Prince George, Prince Edward, Queen 
 Ann, Henrico, Chesterfield and Amelia counties, 
 in Virginia, in which time the trials, temptation! 
 and difficulties of my mind, were inexpressible. 
 By this time. I plainly discovered the preacher 
 felt little concern for my interest, or solicitude for 
 my success. Hearing of another Christian preach* 
 er, by the name of Thomas Reeves, and he being 
 recommended as a more suitable man for me to 
 travel with, I resolved, though he was upwards of 
 an hundred miles from me, 1 would go and see 
 him. 
 
 In December I bid adieu to the old preacher, 
 who had been a source of grief to me, and started 
 oi by myself through a strange part of country, 
 and m six days I found T. Reeves in Surry coun- 
 ty, Va. I introduced myself to him, a» one oftb^ 
 
25 
 
 weakest laborers in the vineyard of our Lord 
 I soon found him of open, free and liberal 
 mind — kind and affectionate in his disposition. 
 He received me to travel with him, and prom- 
 ised to lend me all the aid and support he could 
 afford. 
 
 We went on, and for many days held meet- 
 ings once, sometimes twice every day. My 
 timidity, which had been a great obstacle in 
 the way of my speaking, now began to wear 
 off, and I felt a little more liberty, but was yet 
 so weak and unpopular, that the most of the 
 (brethren advised brother Reeves to dismiss and 
 ;end me home. But he thought I ought to 
 make a longer trial, and frequently exhorted 
 me to application, diligence and perseverance, 
 md if I would be faithful, he had no doubt but 
 .hat God would make me an instrument of 
 mich good. 
 
 About Christmas, we were some miles below 
 Norfolk, and went to brother Rice Haggard's 
 
 christian preacher. I found him to be of 
 trong intellect, and of profound piety. He 
 xhorted me to be faithful, and the Lord would 
 aake me useful. I loved him and received 
 rithjoy his counsels. 
 
 B 
 
tfG 
 
 We turned our course and went up th< 
 country again— passing through Norfolk, Ports 
 mouth, jSuffolk, the Isle of Wight county, Sur 
 ry and Southampton. Here we came to ok 
 brother B. Barrett's, (a christian preacher.' 
 Here the work of the Lord revived. Brothe 
 Barrett gave me good counsel, and by his af 
 fectionate conversation, I was much consoled 
 strengthened and encouraged. Our travel 
 were bounded in form of a circuit, which w< 
 performed in four or five weeks. Every rount 
 turned up new trials, temptations and scenes 
 The many lonesome and disconsolate feelings 
 that revolved in my mind, could be but faint 
 ]y painted by the most vivid imagination. 
 
 About the fourth time, in going round ou: 
 appointments, it was frequently observed to mi 
 companion, what proficiency, what unparal 
 leled improvement I had made ! I now begai 
 to find the attention and kindness of the people 
 drawn towards me, which taught me something 
 more of human nature. I now learned, whei 
 a person could not help himself, and was i\ 
 essential need of a friend, he seldom found one 
 and when he could do without friends, he gen 
 erally could find them plenty under tha 
 camef 
 
±1 
 
 In April 1803, brother Reeves left me, and 
 Started for Tennessee. I continued on the cir- 
 cuit, till the last of May, and saw that the 
 Lord had revived his work in many places^ and 
 souls were converted. 
 
 In the last of May, I left this part of the 
 country, and directed my way for my native 
 place in N. Carolina. During this time, I had 
 expended the amount of the funds I had start* 
 ed with, which were $40 ; but at the time I 
 was starting for Carolina, a man put five dol* 
 j lars in my hand, which I regarded as an in- 
 stance of God's goodness to me. In June, I 
 preached to a large congregation, on the old 
 j camp ground, where I had received my con^ 
 victions. Many who came to laugh at me, as 
 they had done before,were constrained to weep, 
 and many of the professors rejoiced and gave 
 praise to God. I held several meetings in the 
 neighborhood, and saw the tears of the mour- 
 ner, and heard the shouts of happy christians. 
 
 In the latter part of June, I bade adieu to my 
 mother and brother, whose eyes were now fill- 
 sd with tears, and started to travel on a route- 
 assigned me, in the higher parts of Virginia* 
 U five days I reached my circuit, at Major 
 Ward'e, on Staunton river, Campbell county, . 
 
28 
 
 Virginia. In this journey I was, while preach- 
 ing, insulted with scurnllous language, at Pitt- 
 sylvania Court House, and at Ward's springs. 
 From Major Ward's, I went to New London. 
 Thence on Sunday, I preached at a place call- 
 ed the Tabernacle. Here a Methodist preach- 
 er encountered me. He said, he could not see 
 for his part, how any person could be so blind- 
 ed, as to pretend to go about the country 
 preaching, and be connected with no society ^ 
 and bound by no discipline! I replied, that I 
 belonged formally to a people, who professed as 
 much religion as he seemed to have, and that I 
 had that book, the Bible, for my discipline ; 
 whence all creed-makers, pretended to derive 
 their authority for their disciplines, and if 
 theirs were good, of course mine must be much 
 better. 
 
 My circuit included Campbell, Bedford, 
 Amherst, Nelson, Buckingham, Prince Ed- 
 ward and Charlotte counties. From Taberna- 
 cle, I went on and crossed James 1 and Tie riv- 
 ers, and came in among the hills and spurs of 
 the south side of the Blue Ridge mountain* 
 Here many of the people appeared to be rude, 
 uncultivated, and apparently hardened in sins. 
 But the Lord gave my words access to some of 
 
24 
 
 their hearts — some professed religion under my 
 ministration, in those regions. The country is 
 truly picturesque in the summer season, exhi- 
 biting in rich variety, the features of sublime 
 an i awful solitude, and the fascinating: charinS 
 of rural scenery. At Stony point meeting 
 house, ["held meeting:, where a revival com- 
 menc°d ; several souls were professedly brought 
 to the knowV^e of the truth, and added to 
 thechu'eh, qui many of the brethren were 
 comforted and built up in the faith of the gos- 
 pel. 
 
 I now obtained the name of the boy preacher^ 
 and from motive? of curiosity, &cmy con :re :a- 
 tions were generally lar^e, and it pleased the 
 Lord frequently to attend my discourses with 
 the energy of his holy spirit, to many of their 
 hearts. In Charlotte county, a Methodist 
 preacher undertook to dve me a little drubbing", 
 in public, by telling; the congregation I was one 
 cf the tail end of the Methodist — an Q % 'Kellyite % 
 and the people should be aware of such rene- 
 gadoes, &c. I observed, the Methodists as a 
 body, had not only one head s but three, which 
 made it a monster; but that I had not until 
 then, considered udod its haying a tail, but 
 according to him it had one. But I thought he. 
 
so 
 
 was mistaken about its having dropt from the 
 body, for it had just struck me, that as every 
 member of the body is included between the 
 head and the tail, the Bishops must be the head T 
 and the class leaders the tail of the Methodist 
 church ; and that it yet cleaves to the body, 
 and as related to me I truly never made any 
 part of this apparatus. And as respected being 
 an O'Kellyite, I was no more one, than he was 
 an Asburyite, and I could not see why the one 
 should not be as respectable as the other. 
 
 Not long after this a Baptist preacher of 
 great celebrity, and rhetorical powers, tried 
 his skill in a congregation against me, t^nd af- 
 ter ridiculing my rotten Armenian, Mushroom 
 doctrine, observed to me, I ought to go home, 
 and stay there till I had read and studied Dr. 
 GilPs Body of Divinity. I informed him that 
 I had read Dr. Gill, and had found the dry 
 bones and skeleton of a body, but could find no 
 meat nor nourishment on it, to feed my soul. 
 
 In Charlotte county, on Big Fallen, I preach- 
 ed in a neighborhood where a revival com- 
 menced. Several professed faith in Christ, and 
 many were awakened to a sense of their sins. 
 Some were taken with the exercise of thejerks y 
 which was a new and strange thing to th# 
 
SI 
 
 people, and the first instances of the kind I 
 had seen in Virginia. 
 
 Thence I preached in Campbell Court House., 
 and again at Major Ward's. In this route, I 
 included upwards of two hundred miles, and 
 attended about thirty-five preaching places. 
 
 In October, 1 left the South, and went over 
 en the north side of the Blue Ridge. On 
 i Craig's creek, I preached several times to weep 
 . ing congregations. Thence I went over a 
 high mountain, and preached several times on 
 • the sources of Sinking creek, where I constitu* 
 ; ted a church, under the Christian name. Here 
 at old brother Peck's, a Methodist preacher 
 opposed me in public, and declared that the 
 Scripture was not a sufficient rule to govern 
 the church, as I had said, unless it had eyes to 
 ' see and a mouth to speak, kc. The people be* 
 came offended at his spleen, and abruptly dis* 
 . missed themselves. Thence I made for Ra- 
 I leigh, in N. Carolina, to a Union meeting. In 
 my journey, I passed through Fmcastle, Liber- 
 ty, New London, Major Ward's, Pittsylvania 
 Court House, Danville, Casewell Court House, 
 Hilteborough, and arrived in Raleigh on the 
 second day of the meeting. On my way, in 
 Hie solitary pine deserts, lying between Pittsylr 
 
32 
 
 vania Court House and Danville, I lo^t my 
 w y, and was under the necessity ot tying my 
 horse to a bush, and I took my lodgings by the 
 side of an old tree, for the night. This was a 
 time and a place for poetical fancy, and chris- 
 tian meditation! 
 
 In Pi.rilei^h,I met with many preachers, coU 
 lected from different quarters, and all seemed 
 united in the glorious cause of christian liberty, 
 and in the free communion of the children of 
 God. The meeting lasted four days, in which 
 time, several were converted and added to the 
 church. 
 
 On Tuesday, I left Raleigh, and went on in 
 the company of B. Rainey, for Haw river, my 
 native place, and tarried all night with the pi" 
 ou3 James O'Kelly. This man as a christian, 
 as an or itor, as a reformer, as the father of the 
 Christian Society, (so called) and as a man of 
 strong mental abilities, needs not the eulogi- 
 umsandthe panegyric of my pen, to recom- 
 mend him. This was an instructive and happy 
 night to me. 
 
 In two days from this place, I arrived at my 
 mother's. I rreached several times to atten- 
 tive and weeping assemblies, among my old 
 acquaintances. I then, by request* met with 
 
ss 
 
 cue Presbyterians at their sacrimental occa- 
 sion?, at Ilawfiekls, Enon, Cross roads, &c* 
 At these meetings the great work of the Lord 
 was marvellous among the people. Here I 
 found the Presbyterians were as noisy and seem- 
 ed to have as much religion, as any people I 
 had seen. 
 
 In November, I started westwardly, and 
 preached at Big Buffalo, Guilford Court house, 
 &c, and on the Little Yadkin ; at widow Da- 
 vid's, &c. I crossed the Blue Ridge at Flour 
 GaD. Here I had the most extensive and de- 
 lightful prospect of creation, I ever had before. 
 Around me the tremendous spurs of the moun- 
 tain, projected their lofty heads, and with frow- 
 ning majesty seemed to overlook the clouds I 
 Thence I could see the distant hills and little 
 mountains thrown, as it were, by a careless 
 hand, yet in beautious order, over distant lands 
 below!! Numerous farms, with many rural 
 and picturesque scenes, rose into review, wa- 
 tered by purling rills and gurgling brooks, while 
 distant Yadkin rolled along. Yonder stands 
 Arrarat, or the Pilate mountain, about forty 
 miles distant, rising like an awful pyramid, 
 crowned as with a turret, of three hundred feet 
 in perpendicular height, on the lofty moun- 
 B 2 
 
34 
 
 tain's top ! I went on to my brother Moses' on 
 Chesnut creek, in Grayson county, Va. with 
 whom I lived in the days of my affliction. I 
 now commenced preaching to those who had 
 seen me while I lay tortured, as many thought, 
 on the gloomy borders of death ! Religion was 
 yet little known among these people. It plea- 
 sed the Lord to awaken a number to a sense of 
 their need of a Saviour, while I taught them the 
 way of life. From this time, a revival began in 
 those regions. 
 
 In December, I bade adieu to my brother 
 and family, and went into Wythe county, and 
 preached at Newel's lead works, on New river. 
 Thence I turned my course to the route, I had 
 been travelling the summer preceding. The 
 weather was now excessively cold, and I was 
 but thinly clad. I crossed Little and Big Reed 
 Islands, bold and rapid mountain streams. In 
 the latter, my horse stumbled and wet me. My 
 clothes soon became frozen, and to keep my . 
 feet from freezing, I drew my stockings, and 
 walked with dry leaves in my shoes. The 
 ■country was thinly settled, and I had no op- 
 portunity of eating or warming, till some time 
 in the night. In three days I came aerain to 
 xme of my old homes, in Bedford county, and 
 
35 
 
 fclt *lad and thankful to God for his mercies,, 
 and for his preserving care towards me. 
 
 I now went on preachinsr, on the route I had' 
 travelled the summer previous, with unremit- 
 ted zeal, exposures of body, fatiguing labor-, 
 and with an intense application to reading anci 
 *tudy. 
 
 Some time in January 1809, while travel* 
 ling, night overtook me north of New London, 
 It was very dark and rainy. The top of a 
 tree fell in the road so near me, that a limb 
 struck me and so badly wounded me, that I 
 had to sit some time by the road side before I 
 was able to ride. About 9 o'clock, I came to 
 brother Wright's, and felt thankful to God that 
 I was alive. My reflections this night, on the 
 goodness of God, were comforting to my soul. 
 In some places the work of the Lord prospered, 
 and I felt encouraged and thankful that I was 
 made an instrument of doing goGd to the soula 
 of men. 
 
 January 28th, I had to cross James' river to 
 reach my appointment. The ford, I found was 
 difficult and dangerous, as there was much ice 
 in the way. In places the ice would bear my 
 horse, and in some places he would break thro* 
 the ice, In the 6plashing of the water, I be? 
 
36 
 
 came mostly wet and my clothes were soon 
 stiffly frozen. Sometimes the ice forced me out 
 of the ford, into almost swimming water, and 
 I nearly despaired of reaching the shore ! How- 
 ever, I arrived on the bank, and found my path 
 to ascend sidelong a tremendous hill, mostly 
 glazed over with solid ice ! I pulled off my shoes 
 and dew myself along by bushes, thinking 
 and fearing every moment my horse and my- 
 self would fall from the awful verge, into the 
 river below! But thanks to my great Preser- 
 ver, I ascended safely, but through great peril, 
 while my bones ached with cold, and my 
 clothes rattled with ice. I went to my ap- 
 pointment, being almost frozen, and preached 
 to a people who gladly heard the word. 
 
 I now found that persecution and popularity 
 had united to toss my name abroad. I found 
 them to equiponderate in the scale of my re- 
 flection, to my advantage. So that by the one, 
 I was not abjectly depressed, nor by the other, 
 elevated in my own estimation, beyond the 
 moderation of the christian character. My 
 constant prayer was, to be delivered from the 
 pride of the human heart. O ! (thought I) 
 when shall these towerin? notions, these world- 
 A y thoughts, this love of applause^ this vexation 
 
67 
 
 at persecution ceaie. O! when shall l be rc- 
 ligned to all circumstance?, and be contented 
 in the varying situations of this fluctuating 
 gcence of life! O, when shall I gain that holy 
 courage, that divine, undaunted disposition of 
 soul, to stand firm and unshaken — that heaven- 
 ly zeal to persevere, when derision, persecution 
 and slander, with their thousand tongues, burst 
 forth in united clamors, to sink me down in 
 shame. O! for that meek and quiet spirit, 
 which is in the sight of God of great price; 
 th it I may feel humble and thankful in prospe- 
 rity, and patiently resigned in adversity and 
 affliction. 
 
 In March I crossed the mountains, and went 
 again to Craig's creek, Bottetourt county, 
 through much snow, ice and cold, and piercing 
 w 7 ind. In this visit I found that the Methodists 
 who had formerly manifested friendship to me, 
 had turned to be my enemies and persecutors, 
 and were now as cold and barren to me, as the 
 mountains they inhabited. They debarred me 
 from preaching in their public and private 
 houses, but their opposition only seemed to in- 
 crease my congregations, and open my way a- 
 mons: the people. While preaching here, the 
 Lord touched the hearts of some of the wicked 
 
38 
 
 and brought them to the knowledge of trie 
 truth. Truly did the wilderness turn to a fruit- 
 ful field, and the desert blossom as the rose* 
 Here I had an additional proof of the changea- 
 ble and uncertain nature of Sectarian friend- 
 ship. I was taught never to trust in Sectari- 
 an love, further than I saw it, nor to confide 
 in their pretended attachments, longer than I 
 %vas with them. 
 
 From this place I returned to my appoint- 
 ments whence 1 came, and found in some pla- 
 ces religion reviving and souls were converted T 
 and in some places the people seemed careless 
 and unfeeling, and I apparently was of little 
 Use to them. 
 
 April 10th, 1 attended at Chany Chapel with 
 John Robinson and others, who professed to be 
 Republican Methodists. I preached and com- 
 muned with them. I believed in their religion, 
 and felt sweetly united with them in christian 
 love; but I did not believe in their little dis- 
 cipline and confession of faith, which seemed 
 to have been borrowed from the Methodist and 
 Presbyterian. Nor did I believe in their name, 
 as I thought it more properly belonged to the 
 Beast, than to them. 
 
39 
 
 The vernal season, with all her reviving and 
 blooming charms, now began to expand her 
 "blushing beauties round. The cold north 
 wind, cease to blow, and the white mantling 
 snows are melted. The rising summits ofthedis- 
 tant hills, and the fertile vales that lie between* 
 bow display their gay and living verdure. The 
 birds flutter and sing, and fill the green woods 
 with their melodious song. OJ thought I, 
 when, in like manner, will the storms o f perse- 
 cution, contentions and oppositions, that chill 
 the christian world, cease to bl ow. When shall 
 the wide sprea ding and darkening clouds of an- 
 ti christian errors, be dissipated, and leave our 
 christian horizon to pour the illuminating rays 
 of divine light upon the intellectual world. 
 When will this long raining and hard freezing 
 winter roll away, to usher in the charming and 
 delightful spring. When christians of every 
 sect, like birds of every name, shall rise revive 
 and sing a universal song of victory, over the 
 beast, and over his image, and over his mark, 
 and over the number of his name ! 
 
 From this place I attended at several places, 
 where I saw some good was done ; but at one 
 place I had a severe trial. A drunken man 
 made an interruption in the congregation, by 
 
 
40 
 
 caning me a d tl fool, liar, hypocrite, o^. ; 
 
 threatening to boat my d d brain* out. He 
 
 was taken out of the house, and the doors shut 
 against him; and after throwing some stones 
 against the wall and on the roof, he went a» 
 way. 
 
 Within a few weeks past, I have seen many 
 evidences of the divine favor, in the conversion 
 of sinners, and some partial appearances of 
 that union and peace, which shall one day 
 consolidate and harmonize all God's people. 
 My soul has been enraptured in contemplating 
 the glories of that happy day, when Anti- 
 Christ shall be destroyed, and when Jesus shall 
 be King in all the earth, and his name one. 
 
 May 15th, I held a two day's meeting at bro- 
 ther Sledd's (a preacher) near the Blue Ridge. 
 We held a communion, and the Lord blessed 
 us, and gave us a refreshing time. 
 
 From this ^lace, accompanied by brother 
 Sledd, I started to a union meeting, to be hol- 
 den at Shiloh meeting house, in Halifax coun- 
 ty Va. On our way we held meeting at Maj. 
 Ward's to a lar<re assembly. At this place, 
 I received an anonymous letter, containing six 
 very difficult and perplexing questions; deeply 
 involving the doctrine of Calvinism, Deism and 
 
41 
 
 Universalianism. The writer insisted for an 
 answer, and as T fully thought those doctrines 
 were not tenable, but could be refuted by 
 Scripture and reason, I answered them. I 
 have room here to insert neither the ques- 
 tions nor the answer. 
 
 From this place we went on and preached 
 at brother Chapel's, a Christian preacher. 
 The people were careless and unaffected. We 
 thence went home, and tarried during the 
 ■eight with brother T. Jeter, a Christian r-rca- 
 eher, of considerable eminence, but a slave hol- 
 der ! Here we met with Wm. Guiry and with 
 T. Plumer, from New England, who were di- 
 recting for the same meeting, to which we were 
 going. The next day we all went on to the 
 neighborhood of Shiloh. On Friday |9th of 
 May, the Union meeting commenced. At can- 
 dlelight I was set forward to preach. I -did so, 
 to the joy of my own soul, and I thought to the 
 comfort of others. But T. Plumer, (from N 8 
 Carolina ) immediately rose up in the congre- 
 gation, and in his discourse observed, "such 
 preaching (alluding to mine N i was not fit for 
 God, men nor Devils." This, with some oth- 
 er impcrtinencies, disgusted the most of the 
 preaching brethren, so that he was but coolly 
 
42 
 
 received. Though he came to open a commu- 
 nication between, and to urate the christians 
 in the East and South together, he did not 
 succeed in his mission. At this meeting, I saw 
 and met with my dear brother, T. Reeves, who 
 had led me along and given me aid in the min- 
 istry, when I was weak and helpless. On Mon- 
 day afternoon, the'meeting closed. It was sol- 
 emn to seethe .reachers. embracing each Oth* 
 er, .robably for the last time they should meet 
 on ejrth. And to see the weeping mourners 
 dro: ning the penitential tear, and saying to the 
 preachers, "pray for me !." 
 
 This evening I ieft the meeting ground, and 
 went on four miles towards Danville, and tar- 
 ried all night at the house where a daughter 
 had been convicted of her sins, at the meeting, 
 and was yet under great distress and affliction 
 of mind. 'T was said she slept none, but pray- 
 ed and mourned all the night! Next morning I 
 again prayed for her,, and while engaged in the 
 duty, she found redemption in the blood of the 
 Lamb, the forgiveness of sins. 
 
 Thence I passed on, crossed Dan river, and 
 at Bight held meeting at brother West's ; but 
 my mind was clouded, and it was with difficul- 
 ty I could find any thing to say. After meet* 
 
43 
 
 lg, I felt mortified and much depressed, 
 lext morning I was informed that a man was 
 ■tnsibly convinced of his sins, while hearing 
 ie preach, and was constrained to fall on his 
 nees, on his way home, and prayed mightily 
 )rGou to be merciful to his soul. 
 
 Thence I directed my way for my native 
 lace, and in the evening arrived safely at my 
 Iother's, and found her, my brother and rela. 
 ons well. During a week I preached in the 
 eighborhood, in the day and at night. The 
 «ord tendered some of the people's hearts, 
 )me of whom rejoiced aloud, and some cried 
 >r mere y. 
 
 On the last Sunday in May, I met with J, 
 >'Kelly, at Apple's meeting house, near the 
 [igh Rock of Haw river, in Guilford county, 
 'he congregation was large and deeply affect* 
 3. We had the communion, in which many 
 f the Presbyterians, and some of the Metho- 
 ists joined with us. 
 
 From this place I went on westwardly, thro* 
 ruilford, Stokes, Iredel and Surry counties, 
 reaching almost every day, sometimes twice 
 i the day. In Iredel, I could not do many 
 lighty works, because of the Presbyterians 2 
 ^heir religion seemed to consist in keeping the 
 
44 
 
 Sabbath, and in withstanding every thing that 
 not Calvinism! I went on through Grayson an 
 Wythe counties, in Va, and preached fiftee 
 times in ten days, among ray old acquaintance 
 in which time some professed religion, and som 
 mourning under a sense of their sins, promised t 
 geek the Saviour, until they should find him, pr< 
 cious to their souls. 
 
 I then returned toN. Carolina, tarried two day 
 with my relations and went on to the lower pai 
 of the state, in the regions about Edenton. M 
 profession was strange here, and ray access to th 
 people wa9 difficult Some of the Methodists 
 liking my doctrine, took me in till their circui 
 rider* came round and alarmed them, that I wa 
 'an O'Kfll.i ite, and charged them to keep me ou 
 of their houses, and forthwith they obeyed them! 
 Here I found the mqschetos and the gnats to bi 
 exceedingly troublesome, the sectarians \ cry bit 
 ter,andthe water extremely bad and insalubri 
 ous. In my travel, not far from Tarborough, 
 called at ai inn, late in the evening and asked th 
 landlord to stay all night, telling him 1 had n 
 money. He bfgan to interrogate me very impel 
 tinently. I answered him. He swore be though 
 I was some runaway apprentice boy, and that th 
 bor>c I was on was a stolen one. and he had 
 great nnnd to take me up as «uch. I told him h 
 wag welcome to do so, and ia thi* way I should ge 
 
45 
 
 night's lodging with him. However he cursed 
 je to begone as he would not be troubled a- 
 tout it I started, and in going a short distance, 
 \y the light of the moon, I discovered a path that 
 eat I through a thick woods, which I followed. Af- 
 er going about two m:les through a dry lonesome 
 wamp, I came to a rural mansion, where I was 
 eccived and hospitably entertained. This night, 
 Vhile lying in the bed my mind was led into an 
 .niple contemplation of the goodness of God, and 
 lis various dealings with me, which filled my soul 
 
 ith inexpressible consolations Here many 
 ^onesome scenes and joyful hours, which I had 
 een, rose into review. The many dangers 1 had 
 V«is«ed, and the deliverances 1 had found. The 
 Occasion produced the following: 
 
 O may I always find thy grace so sweet, 
 As now I lay me down at Jesus' feet; 
 O may transporting joys bear me above, 
 All earthly objects, or a creature's love. 
 
 rhe nexf morning, my host having discovered that 
 I was a preacher, invite^ me to stay and preach, 
 which I did at candlelight, to an attentive and se- 
 rious audience. On the next morning, when I 
 was about to start my host gave me one dollar, 
 commended me to the protection of Almighty 
 grace and bid me God speed in the heavenly 
 road. 
 
46 
 
 I now directed my course for the old route d 
 circuit, which I had before travelled , with brotha 
 er T Reeves. About the 15th of July I arrived 
 there, at a place called Holy Keck. I now wen i 
 on preaching nearly every day, in the counties o 
 Southampton, Nancemond, Currituck, J\ 7 orfolk 
 Isle of Wight and Surry. 
 
 About the 1st of August, I held meeting at Leb 
 anon meeting house, in Surry county, when a re- 
 vival commenced. Old professors were animated 
 many of the wicked were convicted, and some 
 were converted. The cries and prayers of the 
 congregation increased during the day. At night 1 
 we repaired to brother Judkin's to worship, and' 
 the meeting did not close till Tuesday; in which 
 time thirteen souls professed to be brought from 
 darkness to light, and loudly praised their Saviour* 
 
 Thence 1 preached at Baitley's, Holaway's, 
 Chapelt's, and at brother B. Barrett's. At his 
 house the work of the Lord revived. His son 
 Mills was convicted of his sins, while I was 
 preaching of the return of the prodigal son Two 
 of his daughters obtained the forgiveness of sins 
 and several others. 
 
 On the second Sunday in August, I returned 
 and held meeting at Lebanon, where perhaps 2000 
 people collected. Brother Barrett, the preacher, 
 niet with me, and brought his son who was yet 
 -seeking the Saviour. At this meeting he profess- 
 
47 
 
 I «d to have the love of God shed abroad in his 
 ■ heart. At candlelight, while mourners were 
 I praying, and a general noise was in the congrega* 
 [ lion, a man came to me with a stick concealed un- 
 t tier his coat, and asked me to come out to the 
 , yard, and pray for a mourner who was there cry- 
 ing for mercy. I started out with him. but be- 
 fore I came to the door, another man pulled me 
 j back, and as I was returning to the pulpit, the 
 ; man with his stick came and struck at me, but the 
 \ blow was warded. He then caught hold on me 
 i and was about to beat me with his club, but was pre 
 i vented by others and put out of the house. I tar- 
 ried three days in the neighborhood, and held 
 meeting from house to house, almost all night and 
 day. la this time seven gave evidence of being 
 born again, and were added to the church. 
 
 On Wednesday I went on and preached at bro« 
 ther Holaway's. On Thursday morning, I started 
 to my appointment several miles distant, accom- 
 panied by two of brother Holaway's daughters 
 and one of their cousins. In our way we "had to 
 cross a stream of water, over which a new budge 
 was erected, and was in an unfinished state, having 
 no banisters, and the plank loose on the sleepers, 
 I went foremost on the bridge. When I was 
 nearly over, brother Hs. youngest daughter's horse 
 became frightened at the shaking of the bridge, 
 and instantly ran back on the end of the planks, 
 
48 
 
 and threw him«eif and his screaming rider into 
 the stream! The water was. about 15 feet deep, 
 and of considerable width, i jumped from my 
 hor9e and ran without pulling off my hat, coat or 
 boots, and leaped into the stream to save the drow- 
 ning damsel. Before I reached her, she was sinking 
 the third time. When I came to her she caught 
 me round the neck, and with much exertion I 
 broke her hold. I took her by the arm with one 
 hand, and with great difficulty, and at the haz- 
 ard ol ray own life, conveyed her to the shore. 
 Where I brought her to the bank, the water was 
 deep; but by the assistance of the other two wo- 
 men, who had been screaming almost to distrac- 
 tion, we raised her on the bank, but to all ap. 
 pearance dead! A large portion of water pour- 
 ed out of her mouth, and we presently obsei 
 symptoms of life. In the space of half an ho 
 she recoved life and strength to speak In brol 
 accents she began to express her thanks to m 
 that I had saved her life, and said if it had n 
 been forme, by this time she would have been i 
 hell. I told her that her thanks belonged to God 
 who had preserved her life that she might take 
 warning to repent. For the space of two hours, 
 she wa* uuable to ride. We then helped her on 
 her horse, an I by the assistance of her sister hold- 
 ing her on. she was enabled to return homeward, 
 
49 
 
 but for want of strength, bad to tarry with 
 an acquaintance by the way for the night. 
 
 This circumstance brought conviction to her 
 soul — she sought the Saviour by earnest prayer, 
 and shortly found him in the forgiveness of sins. 
 This was also the means of awakening two of her 
 brothers to a sense of their sins, both of whom 
 shortly professed faith in Jesus; and one of them 
 Zachariah Holaway, shortly commenced preach* 
 ing. and remains steadfast and useful to this day. 
 
 I went in my wet clothes to my appointment* 
 where the people were waiting for me. They 
 thought strange to see me so very wet, on so clear 
 a day, and some had it soon reported , that I was 
 drunk, and had fallen into the mill pond, &c,! 
 
 Thence I went to brother Barrett's, where the 
 little revival that had started, was yet spreading, 
 and taking many both old and young, out of Sa_ 
 tan's kingdom, into the liberty of the children of 
 God! 
 
 From this place 1 went on my circuit, preaching 
 tb people in some places, apparently hard as 
 stones, and at some places I saw appearances of 
 good, till I came again to Lebanon, where the work 
 of the Lord was yet spreading. The last Sunday 
 in September, I spoke to a large congregation, 
 and several professed religion. When in . .ag 
 closed , I started out to ray horse. When I came 
 to him, two men were standing by, one with a. 
 G 
 
50 
 
 terge pocket knife open in his hand, the other 
 held a large stirk. One of them observed, I ought 
 
 to have a d d beating, and that they intended 
 
 to give it to me. — They said because I had be- 
 witched the people — set them crazy, &c. The one 
 raised his stick to strike me. I looked him in the 
 face, and said Lcrd have mercy on your poor 
 wicked soul; at which his stick fell out of his 
 hand and his face turned pale. The other shut up 
 his knife and looking frightened said, we cant 
 hurt him. By this time, some others drew up and 
 threatened to prosecute them for the assault, and 
 they withdrew. 
 
 A few weeks after this, we had a communion at 
 brother B. Barretts, where VVm. Guiry met with 
 us. At this meeting several professed to be born 
 again, and many were brought to their knees in 
 tears and prayers When we were about commu- 
 ning, a wicked mob collected and came to disturb 
 us. Some of them were repulsed, and some re 
 mained in the house, and by way of mocking 
 having furnished themselves, they ate bread and 
 drank wine in commemoration of their Lord — and 
 this they did, being intoxicated!! Shortly after 
 this, one of them felt convicted for his crime, and 
 became a sincere praying man. 
 
 About this time, brother Mills Barrett, who 
 professed to be my son in the gospel, being under 
 eicrcises to preach the gospel, started out travel- 
 
£1 
 
 ling with rae, and continued mostly with me dur> 
 ing my stay on that circuit In which time, he 
 made a rapid improvement and seemed to bid lair 
 to be a useful man. 
 
 December 24th, I travelled all day facing; an in- 
 tense cold wind. Being thinly clad and having no 
 great coat, about dark I felt myself numb and 
 sleepy. I became alarmed, believing I would 
 freeze. 1 alighted to walk, but was scarcely able 
 to get along. Sleepiness had almost overcome me. 
 In walking a little distance, I came to fire by the 
 road side, which perhaps had been left by wag- 
 goners. I kindled it, and warmed myself until I 
 felt my strength return and my drowsiness leave 
 me. I deemed this a providential deliverance 
 from death, which I believe had already began to 
 work on me!! Having warmed myself, I went on 
 about three miles, and came to old brother 
 George's almost frozen again. 
 
 Here 1 was soon made comfortable by the kind- 
 ness of the family, and felt thankful that I had a 
 merciful God, who was always mindful of me. 
 
 Shortly after this, being in the neighborhood of 
 Lebanon, the brethren .hearing of my sufferings, 
 bought rae a great coat. 
 
 During the winter I followed up my appoint- 
 ments with unremitted zeal, often suffering hun- 
 ger, cojd, persecutions, oppositions and threats 
 of violence. In several places the work of the 
 
52 
 
 Lord revived , and I felt consoled and fully com- 
 pensated in seemg souls converted to God. 
 
 In the month of March 1810, two Christian 
 preachers, R. Dooly and R Clark, from the west, 
 came into my route. I introduced and recom- 
 mended them among the brethren We travelled 
 together some days They were highly esteemed 
 and seemed to be useful. 
 
 In April I felt my mind strongly inclined to 
 leave those regions, and sound the gospel in places 
 far distant I fait the more clear in doing so. as 
 those men intended to stay in my circuit, till the 
 Union meeting, which was to be held at Lebanon 
 io May 
 
 About the last of <\pnl, I gave my farewell dis- 
 course to the people, an r ' to the young converts at 
 Lebanon This was a solemn though joyful time. 
 Though we gave the parting hand, perhaps to see 
 each other's faces no more in the flesh, we had a 
 strong hope that we should meet in a better coun- 
 try, where we shall part no more. Thence I went 
 on from place to place, till I came again to brother 
 Barrett s Here I preached, and parted from the 
 many happy young converts and faithful old sol- 
 diers of the cross, with whom I had enjoyed many 
 happy hours in the worship of God. 
 
 By looking over my memorandum, I discover- 
 ed that within t'ip last nine months, when I start- 
 ed to come to this route, I had held about there 
 
63 
 
 hundred meetings, and seventy-three souls had 
 professed a happy change from darkness to light, 
 through the instrumentality of my labor, and ma- 
 ny brought to a knowledge of their sins, who I 
 hoped would have cause to thank God that he had 
 ever sent me to proclaim liberty to their captive 
 souls. 
 
 By loud and frequent speaking — with the many 
 devotional exercises that devohedon me, I was 
 now afflicted with a distressing cough and spitting 
 of blood. 
 
 I bid farewell to brother Barrett and his affec- 
 tionate family , and dire< ted my course for my na- 
 tive place in N. Carolina. In ten days, having 
 preached several times by the way, and suffered 
 some distresses among strangers, I arrived on Haw 
 River at my mother's. JSext day I attended an 
 appointment previously made for me. But with 
 so much bodily weakness I could scarcely perlorm 
 service. I attempted to hold several meet'ngs in 
 the neighborhood, but could not extend my voice 
 to be heard by a large audience. It was nowr 
 thought that I had the consumption, and 1 wa* ad- 
 vised by friends to leave off speaking, and relax 
 my studies, that I nnght recover 
 
 On the 29th of May, I bade fare swell to my mo- 
 ther and brother, and started, weak in body and 
 much reduced in flesh, for the western and fron» 
 tier countries, My contemplations during the 
 
64 
 
 day, were serious and mournful. The journey 
 before me, the dangers and distresses I might 
 meet, revolved in my mind. After riding for- 
 ty miles, I called at an inn, in Stokes county, 
 so weak and faint, that I could not get into the 
 house without assistance. I felt, during the 
 night, my complaint to increase. The land- 
 lord was previously acquainted with me. He 
 seemed deeply interested for me, and wished 
 to call for a physician, but I objected. Next 
 morning 1 was unable to ride. I tarried till 
 the next day. I had gained a little strength, 
 and thought I could ride. I started on my 
 journey again, and in only going a few miles, 
 was convinced I was too weak to get along. I 
 turned back, and in two days arrived at my 
 mother's. I was there confined several days- 
 Coughing and spitting blood harrassed me day 
 and night. In about four weeks, I recovered 
 a little strength, so that I could ride slowly, 
 and speak so as to be heard by a congregation. 
 June 29th, I started and travelled in various 
 parts of N. and S. Carolina, frequently preach- 
 ing to large congregations. In some instances 
 the power of God attended the words of my 
 mission, and several persons professed to be 
 converted under my ministry. In these regions 
 
5-5 
 
 i found several companies of believers, who had 
 collected themselves together, under the name 
 "Christian," taking the Scriptures only for 
 their rule. My coming to them, seemed like 
 the coming of Titus. 
 
 The weather was excessively warm here, and 
 the people unhealthy and pale, but 1 felt my- 
 self recovering and my strength increase. The 
 land is very poor, except on some of the rivers? 
 Pedee, Santee, &c. interspersed with pine and 
 scrubby oak, sandy, level and swampy. 
 Thence 1 turned my course, and about Fay- 
 etteville, Newbern and Raleigh, in N. Caroli- 
 na, I preached frequently. I went on through 
 Wake, into Warren county, on Roanoke ri- 
 ver, where I had some happy meetings. At 
 Liberty meeting houses two souls professed to 
 be brought to the knowledge of their sins for- 
 given. Here I met with J.O'Kelly. We went 
 over the river into Virginia, and travelled sev- 
 eral days together, and preached to large and 
 attentive congregations. I returned to Caro- 
 lina and held meeting at brother Gill% where 
 brother Mills Barrett met me. We travelled 
 together through Warren, Granville, Orange 
 and Casewell counties — crossed Dan river and 
 went into Halifax county, Va. Thence re^ 
 
5G 
 
 turned into Carolina — went through Case- 
 well, Rockingham, Guilford and into Orange 
 county, and came to my mother's, having 
 preached almost every day, and frequently at 
 candlelight ; in which time, I saw thirteen souls 
 delivered from the power of darkness, and 
 translated into the kingdom of the Son of God. 
 it hers were brought to a deep sense of 
 their sins, and signalized themselves as mourn- 
 ers i.i Zioh. We held a few meetings in the 
 neighborhood. Brother Barrett and I then 
 parted, and he returned, I suppose, to Virginia. 
 
 By this time (September) I had almost reco- 
 vered from my complaint. My spitting of 
 blood had almost ceased, and my cough trou- 
 bled me but little. 
 
 October 14th, 1810, 1 started for the western 
 country. I went 16 miles and came to a com- 
 munion occasion, held at Apple's meeting house 
 in Guilford county. Here I met with brother 
 R. Dooly. This was a happy time to many of 
 our souls. 
 
 Monday 15th, I and brother Dooly went on 
 our journey, and tarried all night in Salem, a 
 Moravian town. These people live as one fa- 
 mily. The town is elegant, the streets are 
 neat, and the people are sober, quiet ami 
 
57 
 
 peaceable. Thence we crossed Yadkin river 
 and put up at T. Anderson's, in Rowan coun- 
 ty. In this neighborhood we held a five day's 
 meeting, and administered the Lord's Supper. 
 Here fifty-five Presbyterians forsook their con- 
 fession of faith, and declared themselves the 
 Lord's free children. From this meeting I di- 
 rected my course westwardly, and travelled 
 twelve days, and arrived at a great meeting, 
 held by the people called Christians, at Hope- 
 well meeting house, on Bledsoe creek, West 
 Tennessee. In this journey I preached three- 
 times — passed through J onesborough, Leesburg 
 and Greentown, in East Tennessee. — Crossed 
 Nolechucky, Walaga, Clinch, Holstein, Big 
 Emera, and Cumberland rivers. In the wilder- 
 ness, 1 suffered hunger and cold, being exposed 
 to an incessant rain one whole day, and did not 
 arrive at the stand where I had to put up, till 
 late in the night. 
 
 At this meeting, preachers and people were 
 all strange to me, only one preacher whom I 
 had seen before. I was kindly received and 
 admitted to preach on Sunday to the congre- 
 gation, which was large and attentive. I 
 found the Christian preachers and the brethren 
 here, to be much like those in the South, dift 
 C 2 
 
otf 
 
 fering from them mostly on the subject of bap- 
 tism. 
 
 Thence I directed my course for Duck river. 
 November 9th, I attended at Bethleham meet- 
 ing house, with several other preachers, on a 
 communion occasion, which continued four 
 days. During this time there was much exer- 
 cise (as it is called) among the people. Thia 
 exercise consists chiefly in shouting, dancing, 
 jumping, hollowing, laughing, &c. 
 
 From this meeting I travelled one hundred 
 and four miles, in three days, and held three 
 meetings. People are but thinly settled here. 
 Their houses consist of small cabins, and some 
 who have lately arrived in the country , dwell in 
 tents. The face of the country is exceedingly 
 fertile and beautiful, and when cultivated and 
 improved, will certainly yield those adventur- 
 ers an ample remuneration for their present 
 sufferings. I preached in Columbia, a county 
 town, lately laid out on Duck river, to an at- 
 tentive audience. I visited and preached to 
 the settlers on Bigby and Elk rivers, and Rich- 
 land creek. My audiences were small, but at- 
 tentive, and individuals seemed to be deeply 
 interested in the salvation of their souls. 
 
59 
 
 November 23d and 24th, I rode through a 
 largo extent of uninhabited country. It was 
 mostly covered with cane. The fertility of 
 the soil, and the grandeur of the timber, far 
 exceeded any thing I had seen before. 
 
 In yonder deep, lonely grove I roam'd unseen, 
 'Midst tow'ring oaks and herbage ever green ; 
 Where beasts of prey & prowling vultures haunt, 
 And the dread savage made my heart to pant. 
 
 I returned to Columbia again, held meetings 
 there, and in the region round about. Thence 
 turned my course for Cumberland again, and 
 preached at the fishing ford of Duck river. 
 
 November 29th, I rode twelve miles to my 
 appointment in the rain. No person met me at 
 the appointed place. In the evening I put up 
 at a preacher's house. I found him to be singu- 
 lar in his sentiments. Among many other nov- 
 elties, he entirely rejected family prayer, as a 
 burden laid on us by priest craft ! 
 
 December 1st and 2d, I held a two days' meet* 
 ing on Stone's river. The brethren appeared 
 to be happy, and we thought the Lord was 
 with us. Here I was met by brother Adams, 
 a Christian preacher, a man of learning and 
 
66 
 
 information. From this place I went home 
 with him, and preached at his house. Thence 
 I preached aboutevery day, till I came again 
 to Hopewell, Thence to the barrens of Ken- 
 tucky. 
 
 December 15th and 16th, I held a two days 1 
 meeting at brother Mulky's. Here brother 
 Dooly met me. The people felt the weight 
 and power of truth. A sister gave a discourse, 
 which discovered a strong mind, and a zealous 
 soul and, that went with energy to the hearts 
 of the congregation.. I preached in the regions 
 round about, till December 29th. In which I 
 had some happy seasons with the people of 
 God, and met with some trials and distresses. 
 
 December 27th, I started for the old settle- 
 ments of Kentucky. In the night I put up at 
 Col. Cacy's, in Adair county. I preached at 
 his house, and several times in the neighboF- 
 hood. There is no church of the Christian 
 name here ; but I conversed with some Meth- 
 odists and Baptists, who appeared to be tired 
 of their creeds, and of that spirit of bigotry, 
 which has too long kept the children of God 
 from fellowship and union. 
 
 Thence I went three days through a poor 
 -and thinly inhabited part of the country — suf^ 
 
ol 
 
 fering a day's rain, crossing Green river,- and 
 many other rapid streams ; some of which were 
 full, and dangerous to be crossed. I came to 
 brother I. Reed's, a Christian preacher, from 
 Va. who lived near Kentucky river. With 
 him I was refreshed. He introduced me among 
 the christian brethren. I preached almo-.t eve- 
 ry day, and sometimes twice in a day, in those 
 regions, and frequently to large congregations, 
 where I saw many happy brethren, and many 
 weeping mourners, and some who professed to 
 be born again. Thence I went to Lexington, 
 and held meeting at brother tides'. 
 
 January 13th, 181 1, 1 held meeting at Mount 
 Tabor and Bethel meeting houses. At Tabor 
 the people were dull and lifeless. I preached 
 at brother I. Elmore's, a Christian preacher, 
 with whom I had been acquainted in Va. and 
 with whom, in his own house, 1 had often ta 
 ken sweet counsel. I continued to preach in 
 Lexington and in the regions round, until 
 March 22d. Daring this time, I saw the work 
 of the Lord revive in several places, and a num- 
 ber of souls professed to be born of God, thro' 
 the instrumentality of my feeble labors. 
 
 March 22d, I bade farewell to my friends in 
 Lexington, and started for Cane Ridge. At 
 
62 
 
 Cane Ridge meeting house, and about there, I 
 held several meetings to large and deeply 
 affected audiences. This place is sacred and 
 memorable, in my estimation, because the peo- 
 ple who now are called "Christians" for the 
 first, in the west, here discarded all human 
 catechisms, confessions of faith, doctrines and 
 disciplines of men, and publicly declared them- 
 selves, henceforth, to be known, as a relidous 
 body, by no other name than that of Chris- 
 tian, and to take the Scriptures only, for their 
 rule of faith and practice. 
 
 From this place I went on and preached a 
 few times in and about Concord meeting 
 house. Here I saw some remarkable instan- 
 ces of the jerks. Thence I started for Fleming 
 county, and travelled all day in an incessant 
 rain. When 1 came to Licking river, it was 
 very full and rapid. While crossing in a boat,, 
 she struck a stump, which stroke split a olank 
 of the boat, and the water becran to run into 
 her, but we narrowly escaped sinking, by ar- 
 riving at the shore just before she filled. I put 
 up at one of the brethren's near Flemingburgh. 
 'Next day I preached in the neighborhood, 
 where we had a happy and memorable time. 
 Thence on Cabin creek. On the Ohio river, I 
 
tio 
 
 preached several times. Here the spirit of the 
 Lord was marvellously among the people. 
 Some were convicted of their sins, and two 
 professed to have the love of God shed abroad in 
 their hearts. 
 
 I crossed the Ohio river and preached on 
 Eagle creek, and at West Union. Thence I 
 made for Clear creek. My road was uninhab- 
 ited till I came to New Market. Soon after 
 passing that place night overtook me. My 
 road was muddy, the night was dark, and I 
 found no house to stop at, till late in the night. 
 I came into Hillsborough and put up with a 
 Quaker, who used me kindly. Next morning 
 I went to brother G. Wilson's on Clear creek. 
 I preached in his house, and in the neighbor- 
 hood. I preached in Hillsborough. The au- 
 dience was deeply affected, some of the Meth- 
 odists shouted, and sinners wept. Thence I 
 preached at brother Gibson's. 
 
 April 19th, I started to return to the Ohio ri- 
 ver again, by the way of West Union. This 
 day I travelled a sollitary road, and a concur- 
 rence of circumstances turned my meditations 
 on the subject of the origin of the Devil. I in- 
 quired how he came? I thought on the popu- 
 lar opinion — that he was once an angel of light. 
 
* 
 
 04 
 
 nd probably one of the highest order. To this 
 I answered, if he once were an angel of light, ] 
 
 the highest created, celestial being was 
 peccable, and of course not in a secure state. 
 Again, I could not account how temotation 
 could be introduced to, or sin be committed by 
 a pure, perfect and glorified spirit! I also 
 thought, that if sin affected the breast of this 
 angel, or angels, while in heaven, it must have 
 had a similar effect in the heavenly world, to 
 that which it produced on our earth when in- 
 troduced in Eden. This would make a hell 
 of heaven. I thought of the passages that fa- 
 vored this doctrine. Jude 6, Isaiah 14, 12, 13, 
 14. From the context of these passages, I con- 
 cluded the one in Isaiah alluded to the king of 
 Babylon, and the one in Jude, to the man of 
 gin, or those who spake great swelling words. 
 Again, where there is no law there is no trans- 
 gression ; and sin is a transgression of the law. 
 How a pure spirit, the immediate ema nation 
 of God, could have a law, or what kind of a 
 law could be given them, was utterly be} r ond 
 my reach to understand. My thoughts trans- 
 ported me beyond myself, and for the moment 
 I sunk into a maze of scepticism. I asked what 
 is the Almighty ? What am I ? Is my existence 
 
e6 
 
 real or imaginary ? I stopped my horse. I was 
 on the regions of despair! 
 
 I felt miserable ! Lamenting my condition, 
 in full confidence that there is a God, I cried 
 Lord save me. My hope returned, and my 
 doubts fled away. Coming to myself I be- 
 came afraid I might destroy myself. Having 
 no weapon but a penknife, I took it from my 
 pocket and threw it into the woods ! I thought 
 of these words, "Thy God whom thou servest 
 continually, is able to deliver thee;" which 
 gave me great comfort. Temptations and 
 gloomy prospects continued to depress my 
 mind during the day. In the evening, I held 
 meeting in West Union, but I felt embarrassed 
 >and confused. I slept but litte during the 
 night. I rose at the dawn of day and walked 
 to the woods. I viewed the spacious firma- 
 ment, which was clear and tranquil, richly 
 decked with her thousand stupendous orbs of 
 light. I saw the orient beams of day, suild 
 the eastern hoizon, and with inimitable beauty 
 irradiate the western sky. The scene struck 
 me with amazing conviction, Here is the 
 Mighty God exhibited throughout his bound- 
 less empire ! The birds awoke from their slum- 
 bers, and with varied notes tuned their ear- 
 
06 
 
 iy anthems to the coming day. Innoeenci| 
 and joy seemed to sound through all the sur«| 
 rounding woods. My mind emerged from her] 
 gloom. My soul was overwhelmed with gratis 
 tude and love. With inexpressible raptures I> 
 mingled my song with the warblers of the grove, 
 and sang 
 
 "When we are raised from deep distress, 
 
 Our God deserves a song, 
 We take the pattern of our praise 
 
 From H<?zekiah's tongue." 
 
 This was a joyful morning, and one to me, ne- 
 ver to be forgotten. 
 
 From this place, I went on and preached at 
 Eagle creek. Here the Lord displayed his 
 love in the redemption of one soul, and in the 
 conviction of two others, who presented them- 
 selves as mourners; for, and with whom we 
 prayed. After meeting, as I was riding on the 
 bank of the Ohio, a thunder storm came up, 
 and at a flash of lightning, my horse frighted 
 and threw me off him. Not being dangerously 
 hurt, I caught him, and in the midst of the rain 
 and hail, I came to a small cabin and took 
 shelter. After the shower, I crossed the river* 
 
67 
 
 nd held meeting at candlelight on the Ken- 
 acky shore, at a house where a sick woman 
 ay, apparently nigh unto death. In this au- 
 'ience there were rejoicing and weeping. 
 Thence I preached at Cabin creek, whe-e 
 here was an old sinner convicted, and he de- 
 ired that prayer should be made for him. 
 christians rejoiced and sinners mourned. 
 Thence I crossed the Ohio — preached tvvice 
 >n Eagle creek. Then went on and preach- 
 d at West Union. From th^re to Brush creek 
 nd preached several times — and on Sunfish. 
 .^eonle are but thinly settled here, and have 
 )ut little preaching. I did not see much sign 
 >f my being profitable to them. I returned to 
 ulear creek, and held meeting at I. Kirkpat- 
 ick's (a Christian preacher) and on Sunday 
 it the meeting house near by. We had a hap- 
 )y time. 
 
 Thence I started for the Scioto country. 
 The second day, I preached at the house of a 
 Methodist, near a place called Oldtown. 
 Thence I came to brother Wilson's. I preach- 
 ed at his house to a few people. Several miles 
 rom this place, I attended a meeting, in con- 
 unction with a young Methodist preacher by 
 -he name of Bascomb, now thQ orattr. H^s 
 
68 
 
 sermon contained some gross inconsistence, 
 and some cutting reflections against the nrci 
 fession to which I belonged. I endeavored tj 
 rectify his mistakes — a controversy ensuee 
 Wc ended about where all such fruitless cor 
 tentions end — where we be an ! Thence 
 preached at the widow W oil's, on North Piini 
 where the exercise of the people was marvel 
 lous in my eyes. 
 
 May 2d. From this place I directed for m; 
 appointment on Deer creek, near where Van 
 kee town is now known. In this day's trav* 
 I was delighted with the face of the countr; 
 called the barrens. The extensive plains clo 
 thed with living verdure, variasrated with wil< 
 flowersof every tint and hue, while the r;cl 
 perfume of the blooming roses, is wafted en th; 
 wingsof ev*rv passio zephyr, prompted in m* 
 an enthusiasm of plea-ure, but rarely felt. A[ 
 nhrhtl preached to a few peonle. Next day! 
 preached lower down the creek. After meet 
 lag T went to brother Alkier-, a Christian prea 
 cher. Near his house I held a two day's meei; 
 in? in an unfinished meeting house, on th< 
 bank of Deer creek. 
 
 May 6th. In the mornincr I prepared ant 
 started on my way for Philadelphia, In goinj 
 
69 
 
 I few miles, I lost my way and wandered in 
 ic barrens for some hours, but falling in at a 
 abin, I was directed towards the Pickaway 
 'lains. I presently came to the Scioto, and 
 rossed it at West-fall, and went through the 
 lains — a delightful prospect. I put up and tar- 
 ed all night in New Lancaster. The next 
 vening I tarried in Zanesville, on Muskingum 
 ver, and held meeting in the Court house. On 
 \ie next day at 10 o'clock I held meeting in 
 le same place. Thence I went on several 
 ays. One evening a man followed me some 
 iistance with a gun. By his manner I appre- 
 ended he designed mischief against me. He 
 >ft the road and took the woods ; but as far as 
 could see him he partly kept the direction of 
 fie road. Shortly after he was out of my sight 
 icaine to a creek, it was then a little dark. 
 fc T hile my horse was drinking, I thought I 
 leard a gun snap. I whipped up my horse, 
 'ent over the creek and ascended a small hill, 
 then saw the man coming through the woods 
 ■wards me. I then dismounted my horse, 
 ave him a stroke with my whip, and sent him 
 nin a trot. I then went towards the man and 
 ailed him as a friend. I told him I was a 
 readier, a stranger, &c. and, as I was almost 
 
7U 
 
 wn out of money, I wished him to tell me 
 where I could find a religious man's house to 
 stay during the night. He pretended to tell 
 me. I then bid him adieu and went on. He 
 came into the road and went back towards his 
 home. Getting out of his sight, 1 ran to over- 
 take my horse; for I was yet afraid that he 
 might take a nigh turn and overtake me again. 
 I came up to my horse, mounted and rode him 
 with speed for some distance. I found my road 
 kept a pretty straight direction, and presently 
 thought myself out of danger. I travelled, I 
 thought, ten miles and came to a house, where 
 I tarried for the night. 
 
 May 11. I started in the rain, and the rain 
 fell incessantly during the day, and I became 
 wet and cold. In the afternoon, 1 put up at 
 an inn, and called for something warm to eat. 
 The two women of the house, soon fell into 
 conversation with me. 1 found they had beer 
 brought up Presbyterians. While dinner v/m 
 preparing for me, the young woman asked me 
 if 1 were a professor of religion ] 1 answered 
 yes. She asked me of what denomination. | 
 did not tell her, but told her to guess. Sht 
 tried but did not guess right. She then sak 
 uhe did not believe 1 had religion, but 1 wil 
 
71 
 
 xow, said she, when dinner comes on; for if 
 ou are a religious man, you will surely say 
 ;race. Dinner came on, 1 sat down and began 
 o eat, without saying grace, as they could 
 iear, In a short time,l asked her if she thought 
 could preach ? Preach ! said she, you can 
 Leach about as much as 1 can. Said 1, if you 
 can get the liberty of this house for me, 1 will 
 try what 1 can do at it. She asked the land- 
 lord for the house — he seemed to be as fond of 
 ;he joke, as they thought, as she was, and gran- 
 ted the house, and immediately sent off a boy 
 r.otell the people to come to preaching, to-mor- 
 *ow at 12 o'clock. After the boy was gone, 
 ;he said to me, are you not sorry r Not much 
 said 1 . Before 1 repaired to bed, 1 asked leave 
 Lo pray. In prayer the young woman was 
 brought under conviction, and constrained to 
 weep After prayer, 1 exhorted her, and poin- 
 ted out her salvation in the great Redeemer. 
 Next day the people gathered, and I preach- 
 ed to them. When 1 started from the place, 
 the young woman promised to seek the Sav- 
 iour till she found him. 
 
 Thence 1 went on, crossed the Ohio river, 
 and preached in Cannonsburg, Thence thro r 
 
72 
 
 Pittsburgh — 1 preached in Bedford Court house, 
 Pennsylvania. 
 
 May 24th, 1 arrived in Philadelphia. 1 put 
 up with John Hunter, Esq. deacon in the 
 Christian society. An appointment was made 
 for me, at their meeting house, that evening, at 
 candlelight. Before meeting ccme on, Elias 
 Smith and John Gray, from N. England, arriv- 
 ed. 1 preached to an attentive audience. On 
 the next evening 1 heard E. Smith preach. 1 
 preached during several days in different pla- 
 ces in the city. Two souls professed religion 
 and werejoinedto the church. 
 
 Thence 1 went into the great Valley, (so- 
 called; in Chester county, Penn. 1 held seve- 
 ral meetings there, and met much opposition 
 from Sectarians. Here 1 became acquainted 
 with R. Pucheon, a Christian preacher. 
 
 Thence 1 went into Delaware above New- 
 port. 1 preached with success — souls were a- 
 wakened, and some forsook their creeds and 
 disciplines, and promised to take the Scrip- 
 tures for their rule. From this place 1 went on 
 and preached in Newark, Christiana, Elton, 
 Charleston, at Susqaphannah river, Haver- 
 degrace, and in Port Penn. Thence 1 return- 
 ed to Newport — held several meetings, and 
 
V3 
 
 the work of the Lord continued to revive* 
 I then went on to Philadelphia by the way of 
 Wilmington and Old Chester. In the city, I 
 found the work of the Lord prospering, among 
 the christian people, and members were add- 
 ing to them. 
 
 I now became acquainted with a young man 
 by the name of R. F. Ferguson, who related to 
 me his experience, and the manner in which 
 the Lord was calling him to preach the gospel. 
 [ heard him in exhortation. I thought he might 
 be useful. I informed him, if he would turn 
 out to the work of an Evangelist, I would sell 
 my saddle, &c. and purchase a gig, in which 1 
 would give him a seat, and take him with me 
 through the country. He promised to do so, 
 When his apprenticeship would expire. IhiS 
 would be about the following Christmas. 
 
 1 travelled and preached in different places 
 n Pennsylvania and Delaware, and in Phila 
 ilelphia, to average more than once a day, un- 
 til September. During which time, I suiiered 
 omch persecution, and many lonesome and dis- 
 consolate feelings, because I was sometime! 
 destitute and in want. In this time I was bap- 
 tised by immersion in the river Schuylkill, and 
 
 o 
 
14 
 
 ordained an elder of the Church of Chiiet ill 
 the city of Philadelphia. 
 
 Having purchased a double seated gig, I 
 made ready to start towards the South. My 
 farewell sermon was appointed to be in out 
 meeting house, in the city. We had a weep- 
 ing time T yet many of us rejoiced in spirit, in 
 hope that we should meet again, where part* 
 ing is not known. 
 
 September 20th : In the morning* brother R. 
 Ferguson and I concluded, that he should meet 
 me in Alexandria, (D. C.) about the ensuing 
 New Year, in order to travel with me to preach 
 the gospel. I left the city in the company of 
 £. S. to attend a union meeting in Va. We 
 preached in Newport, Delaware* at night 
 After we crossed Susquehannah river, my horse 
 tired. E. S. was riding in my gig with me. 
 He left me with my tired horse on the road, 
 and took a passage in a hack to Baltimore, 
 With difficulty, I passed on to Alexandria, 
 Thence I went into Fairfax county, Va» about 
 Fall's church, and held meeting. Here I had 
 two dollars given me. This took me to Fred- 
 ericksburg, where I held meeting. Thence tc. 
 Dickinson ? s Chapel, where we held our unior. 
 snecting. Here I saw, among many othe 
 
75 
 
 preachers Z. Hollow ay, and M. Barrett, my 
 gospel children. 
 
 From this meeting I returned td Alexandria 
 and to Fairfax, where, especially, about Fall's 
 church, I had some precious and soul reviv- 
 ing meetings. 
 
 About the 1 6th of October, I went forward 
 to Shenandoah county. On the 19th I arrived 
 at Wm . Smith's, on Cedar creek. My road 
 was exceeding muddy ; my horse was poor and 
 small. Twice I had to prize my gig out of the 
 mire. My money gave out, and I had to beg: 
 a night's lodging at an inn. 1 preached at 
 Smith's, Beohm's, and in Stoverstown, to large 
 audiences. At Beohm's I held a communion,, 
 and introduced washing of feet among the 
 brethren. The work of the Lord prospered* 
 Near Stoverstown I baptised eight persons in 
 the presence of a weeping multitude. 
 
 Thence I went to Winchester, and preached 
 .n the Presbyterian meeting house. From this 
 olace I v/ent on and preached on the 3d Sun- 
 day in Nov. at Mr. Rittenour's, to a few peo~ 
 ole, not much softer than stones. Here, for 
 >he first time, I saw her, who afterwards be* 
 tame my wife. Thence 1 preached in Shenan- 
 ioah. indifferent place?, till the first of Detf* 
 
TO 
 
 I then returned to Fairfax county. I held 
 meetings in different places till the 23d. I 
 then went to Alexandria. I left word with a 
 friend, that when R. F. Ferguson came on, he 
 should be directed to find me at brother Gun- 
 nel's, in Fairfax. 
 
 December 26th, brother F. came to me. We 
 tarried in the neighborhood eight days, and 
 preached at several places, and saw some ap- 
 pearancesthat good was done in the name of 
 the Lord. Brother F. is now only an exho&- 
 ter. Thence we returned for Shenandoah. 
 The third day we suffered extremely by the 
 cold winds, ice and snow. After travelling 30 
 milos, sometime in the night, we came to M, 
 Rittenour's, in Frederick county, hungry, 
 weary and almost frozen. The family was 
 very kind, and the affectionate attention paid 
 me by Christiana, created in me a fond attach- 
 ment. 
 
 I preached in Shenandoah and Frederick 
 counties in a number of places. At M. Ritte- 
 nour's, after preaching a few times, the work 
 of the Lord revived. In the space of two 
 months, about sixty-five persons had professed 
 to be converted, and about seventy-two 1 bao- 
 tised in the neighborhood. During this time. 
 
77 
 
 in other places the work of the Lorn* revived * r 
 several came to the knowledge of the truth, 
 and I baptised them. 
 
 On the third Sunday of February, I attended 
 at the Round hill, with a large audience. A. 
 Mr. M. Pry (a Methodist preacher) had put in 
 an anpointment at the same time and place. 
 He told me he intended to preach, and then 
 hold class meeting. I saw he was for an on po- 
 sition. I told the people that all who wished to 
 hear me, should follow me to brother Carter's. 
 The people all followed me, but a few, with 
 whom he neither preached, nor held class meet- 
 ing, as I was told. 
 
 March 21st 1812, I proposed, for the first 
 time, the subject of marriage to Christiana 
 Rittenour. I told her that if she was not pre- 
 pared to srive me a decisive answer, she mieht 
 consider on the subject one week. Her an- 
 swer was deferred. In our next interview, our 
 marriage was decided on. It was agreeable to 
 her parents. 
 
 April 5th 1812. On Sunday evening at can- 
 dlelight, in the house of Michael Rittenour, I 
 was married to his daughter Christiana. About 
 this time,it was reported -hat I had a wife in 
 (te state of Ohio, and many other things prej- 
 
78 
 
 odicial to ray character. I continued to preach 
 in the regions round, until April 30th, with un- 
 wearied dilligence ; suffering much persecution 
 and opposition ; and the Lord abundantly 
 blessed my feeble labors, to the comfort and to 
 the salvation of many souls. 
 
 April 30th, 1812, I left my father-in-law's— 
 my wife with me, and started for N. Carolina. 
 I and brother Ferguson now parted. He was 
 to stay in the regions round here, to attend to 
 the work of the ministry. The first Sunday in 
 May, I preached in Fall's church, in Fairfax 
 county, and then at different places in the 
 neighborhood, to attentive and some seriously 
 affected audiences. Thence in Alexandria* 
 Ocquecon, Dumfrees, Stafford Court house, 
 and Fredericksburg. In this last place I put 
 Up with my kind friend, C. Clark, a Christian 
 preacher. Thence to Wm. Guiry's. He is a 
 man of great natural and acquired abilities — 
 has been of great popularity and usefulness. 
 But I am afraid he is indulging too much in the 
 vanities of this world. Here I was detained 
 three days, by a great fall of rain. After leav- 
 ing this place, in going a few miles, I came to 
 a creek that was yet full and very rapid. Fear- 
 ing to venture ia the water with the gig, I 
 
ta 
 
 loosed the hor?e, and took my wife behind me., 
 and ventured in. The horse was directly 
 borne down by the current, below the fording 
 place, and my wife fell off the horse into the 
 stream! With much difficulty I saved her 
 from drowning, and brought her to the shore, 
 I then hitched my horse into the gig and drove 
 in ; but about the middle of the stream, one 
 wheel hitched against a rock, and the horse, 
 in drawing, broke the harness, went on, and 
 left the gig and its contents in the stream. It 
 was with hazard and difficulty that I finally 
 extricated all from the water! Leaving this 
 place, we presently came to another stream, 
 more large and dangerous than the other. On 
 the bank, we came out of the gig, and immedi- 
 ately the horse became frightened, and took to 
 the stream ; a number of books and some other 
 articles were tossed out of the gig, and lost in 
 the water, and we were left behind! I then 
 waded and swam the stream— overtook my 
 horse, and with much trouble I brou-ht all over 
 safely. I then went on, and tarried two days 
 at old brother Gwatkin's* Here I preached to 
 a weening audience, and felt much better than 
 I did six years ago, when I was here, soon after 
 I began to try to preach. Then I was despised 
 
80 
 
 and rejected. Here I was offered fifty acres 
 of land, with a good house on it, &c. ill would 
 settle myself and take charge of the church in 
 that place. 
 
 Thence I went on and preached in Rich- 
 mond ; and at brother Gill's a Christian prea- 
 cher, near Petersburg. Here I met brother Z. 
 Rolloway, my son in the gospel, who had made 
 great improvement. 
 
 From this place, 1 went up the country, 
 preaching almost every day. Crossed Roan- 
 oke river and came into N. Carolina, and call- 
 ed at brother Moss's. I preached at Liberty 
 meeting house, to an attentive and serious 
 congregation, and was publicly opposed by 
 brother T. Morris, a Christian preacher. As he 
 was an aged man, I made no rer>ly. Thence 
 to the White plains, and at several other pla- 
 ces to Hillsborough. From this place I went 
 on to my mother's. I felt thankful to my hea- 
 venly Father, that I had been spared during an 
 absence of eighteen months. In this time, I 
 travelled abou- seven thousand miles, preached 
 four hundred and sixty times, and saw about 
 ninety-two souls delivered from the power of 
 darkless, professedly through my iDstrume^ 
 fetlity ! S 
 
tfl 
 
 Here I left my wife, and travelled through 
 IhiilfoH, Stokes, Iredcl and Surry counties, in 
 P iroiina ; and Grayson and Wythe coun- 
 ties, in Virginia. In this route, I saw and felt 
 some precious seasons of spiritual joy and -^as- 
 perity. In Grayson, I was rejoiced to see that 
 a -reat reformation had taken place amongst 
 the people, since I first visited them with the 
 gospel. Thence I returned on the same route, 
 and arrived safely at my mother's, where my 
 wife was, having been absent about four weeks, 
 travelled about four hundred miles, and preach- 
 ed thirty times. 
 
 Here I bought fifty acres of land, and began 
 to improve on it. So soon as I became locat- 
 ed, meeting house doors were shut, and a furi- 
 ous opposition, by the Methodists, Presbyteri 
 ans and Baptists, raged against me! I had sev- 
 eral places erected in the woods to preach at, 
 but some of the public speakers of the sects, 
 fearing, as they thought, I would lead the peo- 
 ple astray, frequently met me at those places, 
 and opposed me, to the creat disturbance of 
 the congregation. It was not an uncommon 
 thinr now, for a preacher to say, while in his 
 pulpit, of me, that T ouejht to be put into pri~ 
 (sou — should be closed in a dungeon — should 
 D 2 
 
not be suffered to preach, and one, that I, with 
 all ray books ought to be burnt!! J now had 
 reason to believe, that if the laws of our coun- 
 try favored the blood -spilling spirit of Anti- 
 Christ, the former times of strife and venge- 
 ance would soon roll on again, when one pro- 
 fessed christian, could triumphantly cut off the 
 head of another, and rejoice to see a brother 
 dissenter, expire in the flames, if he should not 
 subscribe to his human-made creed, and re- 
 ceive all his unscriptural dogmas!! When I 
 would go to the meetings of those people, I 
 could hear them pray for christian union — tell 
 us to love one another — could hear them 
 shout and praise God, kc. How inconsistent! 
 What disparity between example and precept ! 
 "What hypocrisy! How degrading to the cau^e 
 of Christ 
 
 About the first of January, 1813, 1 commenc 
 ed teaching school, for the term of three 
 months. We were then living in a new house 
 unfinished, the chimney up only as high as the 
 nrst story. About the 10th, a furious storm 
 came up in the night. The wind came down 
 the chimney with great force, and blew the fire 
 over the floor, and under the house, among the 
 pine shavings. The wind blowing in a whir 
 
«3 
 
 ■burst the doors open, and while the lightnings 
 were flashing, thundeis roaring, trees crashing, 
 and our hearts failing, the fire was rapidly 
 kindling in and under the floor! Tha 
 house withstood the fury of the wind, and by 
 hard exertion, we extinguished the fire without 
 suffering serious loss. 
 
 About the first of February, I was taken 
 with the white Swelling in my right shoulder. 
 I was soon unable to move my arm, or hand, 
 without the aid of the other ; and the pain was 
 incessant and inexpressibly severe, for the space 
 of seven weeks. About this time, there was a 
 report in circulation, and believed by some, 
 that I was not married, but had ran away 
 with Mr. Rittenour's daughter, without his 
 knowledge or consent; and it was thought 
 that my affliction was a judgment sent on me, 
 to punish my wickedness. This was the reli- 
 gious effusion of Sectarian zeal. O! how h> 
 tolerant ! 
 
 On the 10th of May, I and my wife started 
 for her father's, in Virginia. I preached seve- 
 ral times on the way, and arrived there in ten 
 days; having passed Casewell Court house, 
 Danville, Pittsylvania, Major Ward's, Lynch- 
 burg, Amherst Court house, Rockfisl* Gap^ 
 
84 
 
 feesletown, New Market, Woodstock, and 
 -town. I r reached at my father-in-law's 
 to a people, with whom I had formerly seen 
 and felt glorious times, in the work of the Lord* 
 Thence I j reached at Crooked Run, Newtown, 
 Stoverstown, Round Hill, Timber Ridge, &c. 
 During this time, I was solicited to take my 
 residence in Frederick county, Va., to which 
 I consented. I then borrowed money from the 
 Bank of Winchester, to settle my business in 
 Carolina, whither I started from my father-in- 
 law's, on the 10th; leaving my wife with her 
 parents. 
 
 I settled all my concerns in Carolina, only 
 ■with my brother Jacob, to whom lowed one 
 hundred dollars ; and that I should be under no 
 censure by him, 1 °:ave him possession, and a 
 deed of my land, till 1 should pay him; with 
 the exr.res* understanding, that he should not 
 charge interest on my obligation, nor I claim 
 any rent for my premises; and that, when I 
 should pay him, thisbarrain was to be null. 
 
 On the 10th of July, I started for Virginia, 
 
 and ■ reached in several places on my way. On 
 
 th I arrived at my father-in-law's, and 
 
 £ my wife well. An 
 
 forth a daughter, k we najned her Sophrenia, 
 
i shortly purchased a lot in Kernstown, neas 
 Winchester, and situated there in October fol- 
 lowing. In the intermediate time, I continued 
 to preach, in various places in Frederick, 
 Hampshire and Shenandoah counties. I bap- 
 tised some young converts, and met with some 
 opposition. 
 
 In September I went to Carolina. Brother 
 I. Ellis of Frederick county went with me. On 
 the way, at Major Ward's I met with a man 
 who said he was a Believing Jew. He wears 
 no hat — has no name, neither personal nor 
 professional. Never rides. Dresses in a plain 
 robe. Preaches repentance. Remembers Ma- 
 ry in every discourse. Holds no controversy 
 Takes no money, neither does he use any. 
 Cuts neither hair nor beard. Professes to fol- 
 low Christ in the regeneration ; nor will hf own 
 any thing in the world. He is an aged man ; a 
 great scholar, versed in several languages: the 
 Assyrian, Hebrew, Creek, Latin, French, Ger- 
 man, English, &c. Profound in reason; ex- 
 pert in the Scriptures; plain and sublime in 
 his language. Decent, modest, and humble in 
 his manners. Solid and convincing- in his dis- 
 courses. Familiar and naturally fascinating 
 in private conversation. 
 
86 
 
 October 14th, 1813, 1 moved and settled my- 
 self and family, in Kernstown, Frederick coun-. 
 ty, Va. At this place I commenced teaching 
 school. My gospel labors were now circum- 
 scribed, chiefly, to Sabbath days. The space 
 of a few months, I enjoyed the sweets of domes- 
 tic and rural life. I experienced a calm, which 
 has since seemed to be a prelude to a longer 
 and a more violent storm of life, than I had 
 ever before experienced. 
 
 About the first of June, 1814, I was led into 
 a more serious, honest, deliberate and general 
 consideration of religion, and its various du- 
 ties, than had ever before revolved in my mind. 
 I now contemplated religion to be entirely spir- 
 itual and pure. I was rationally convinced, 
 that the surrounding sects were deluded, and, 
 that I was a better imitator of them, than of 
 the precept and example of the meek and low- 
 ly Jesus ! It was shown to me, that I had grea- 
 ter things to do, than I yet had done, and a 
 heavier cross to bear. I would have to bear a 
 full and faithful testimony against Anti-Christ, 
 and against the pride and fashion of this world ; 
 both by precept and example. The article, 
 . and the manner of dress, came into view, and 
 was considered no small thin*. A white dress. 
 
87 
 
 i bo frequently mentioned in the Scripture, indi- 
 \ cative of the bride having made herself ready 
 for the marriage ; and of the innocency and 
 i purity which should characterize every minis- 
 ter of Christ, was the one evidently dictated 
 i for me. My mind was seriously exercised, and 
 ! daily oppressed with what I took to be the 
 "burden of the Lord." My soul became like 
 the troubled ocean. — My hours of sleep were 
 disturbed, and the business of the day, often 
 interrupted by the agitation of my feelings. 
 My flesh grew lean, and my appetite failed. I 
 was impressed with the duty of preaching, af- 
 ter the example found in Mark 6th, and Luke 
 10th ; and that I should deny the present fash- 
 ion of dress, both as relates to cut and color, 
 and, particularly to refuse black. I was im- 
 pressed to wear white, to represent my travel- 
 ling in great tribulation, to meet with those 
 who are clothed in white around the throne of 
 God. 
 
 October 29th, 1814, 1 removed my family to 
 Shenandoah county, near Woodstock, and 
 commenced a school there, the term of six 
 months. About the first of December, I receive 
 ed a letter from Carolina, stating that my 
 brother had sold my possessions there, and re* 
 
88 
 
 tained my note ! O ! the treachery and decen* 
 tion of man! 
 
 Finally, after many hard struggles of mind, 
 I gave up to obey the duties made plain to me. 
 I promised my Saviour if he would be with me, 
 and prepare my way before me, that I would 
 follow him in the mortifying path which he 
 had manifested to me, though it should draw 
 on me the scorn, derision and contempt of all 
 the world. 
 
 I sold my possessions in Kernstown,my horse, 
 &c. and prepared to travel on foot to preach 
 the gospel. Before my school expired, I trav- 
 elled a short route in my new mode and man- 
 ner, and on my return, my feet were very sore 
 and blistered. An old professor said, "well 
 Thomas, won't this beat you out of your fool- 
 ish notion of following Christ. 2 " I told him I 
 thought not. 
 
 July 6th, 1815, 1 gave my family to God and 
 to the word of his grace, and started, as a 
 stranger, and yet well known, as a deceiver* 
 and yet true, to preach the everlasting gospel 
 to them that dwell on the earth. I went on 
 through Frederick and Hampshire counties^ 
 and returned a<rain, having been about thir- 
 teen days, preached twenty -three times ? and 
 
89 
 
 walked 130 miles. I was now celebrated by 
 the name of crazy Thomas. In the manner I 
 travelled, I discovered the pride and hypocrisy 
 of professors' hearts, and saw that they were 
 further from the pure gospel than I had ever 
 before anticipated ! 
 
 July 21st, my wife brought forth a daughter, 
 and we named her Philomela. 
 
 July 29th, I started on a long journey to- 
 wards the South. 1 preached in Mount Pleas- 
 ant, where, as I heard some years afterwards, 
 there was a vain, fashionable young lady, bro't 
 under conviction, and sought the Lord until 
 she found him. I preached in New Market* 
 on Smith's creek, Harrison burii;, Miller's Iron 
 works, and in several places onward to Staun» 
 ton, where I met with a kind reception among 
 the Methodists; but I smarted for it afterwards. 
 I passed through Augusta and Rockbridge 
 counties, where I experienced sufferings and 
 persecutions among the Presbyterians. At 
 Cop's meeting house, in Botetourt county, I 
 preached several times, where a reformation 
 :ommenced. Here I obtained the name of 
 ;he Pilgrim, preacher; which has exceeded aS 
 rtbers given me* 
 
9$ 
 
 Thenco I preached in Fincastle, in the Me- 
 thodist meeting house. Some of the Metho- 
 dists shouted, and sinners wept. From this 
 place I directed my course over rugged and 
 towering mountains, to Craig's creek. On 
 this creek, I preached in several places, to peo- 
 ple apparently as hard and barren as the 
 mountains that surrounded them. I observed 
 a lamentable falling away among the people, 
 from the cause of religion, since I last visited 
 them seven years past ! 
 
 From here, I went a pathway, over an ex- 
 ceeding high mountain, to Sinking creek. On 
 the summit of which, I had an ample display 
 of nature's wildest and sublimest features. On 
 Sinking creek I preached at J. Webb's. Hav- 
 ing: left this place, a violent thunderstorm over- 
 took me in the wild and strange woods ; a great 
 rain fell, and I became very wet. I came on 
 to Spruce run, where night met me. She with 
 sable mantle, wrapped the high raised moun- 
 tain's top in lonesome darkness, and whelmed 
 the lowly sunken dell, into which I was descen- 
 ding, in thicker gloom. In this solitary wild> 
 hungry, wet and faint, I called in at a cabin 
 and tarried during the night. But alas! I 
 found nothing to satisfy my hunger but cucunv 
 
VI 
 
 jera without salt. Here nature represents a 
 MCturesque and retired scene, well calculated 
 to inspire the poet's muse, and the contempla- 
 tion of the philosopher. Next morning I went 
 on my way, and in going a few miles, I came 
 to New river. 1 had some difficulty in crossing 
 it. 1 travelled some distance up the river. 
 Here nature is clothed, not in garlands and 
 roses, smiling in perenial and never fading ver- 
 iure, but stands frowning in the most sublime 
 md majestic attire. Here Walker's mountain 
 (as it is called) to all appearance, by some tre- 
 nendous catastrophe, has been cleft asunder^ 
 rom base to summit, exhibiting towery ro^ks, 
 lonesome and far projected pinacles, while pile 
 ipon pile, add wonder to the romantic figure! 
 Through this mighty chasm, runs the roaring 
 river, while foam, wave and tumultuous fury, 
 perfects one of the grandest and most majestic 
 Pictures of nature. My path led along the ri- 
 rer's brink, over and between the dangerous 
 ocks, that pile the rugged way. Passing this 
 Dlace, 1 was introduced into a large and fertile 
 oottom, where 1 appeased my hungry appetite 
 on May apples, as they are called, having ate 
 lothing for nearly forty-eirfit hours, and hav- 
 ng walked about fifty mile?. Late in the 
 
evening, tired and hungry I name to J. Toolings 
 er%, where I was refreshed and comforted Nem 
 daj (Sabbath) I met with a Mr Morris, a Metho- 
 dist oreacher, at Page's meeting house. The 
 preacher objected to my preaching in the house. 
 By the request of the people, I preached to them 
 in the woods 
 
 Thence in Newbern on Pea creek, fee passing 
 through Montgomery, Wythe and Grayson couq- 
 ties. pr*>arhing more than once a day generally 
 to large congregations. From Grayson county I 
 went into N Carolina: preached at the bouse of 
 Gov Henderson. Thence onward to the Mora 
 vian towns, where I was kindly received and ad- 
 mitted to preach in their meetinghouses Thence 
 in different places on the Yadkin river, and near 
 to Salisbury. 
 
 Thence I turned my course, and retraced on my 
 journey, till I came to Newbern in Montgomery 
 county, Va. Thence 1 went to Montgomery Court 
 house; and while I was passing the street, a man 
 hailed me — said he had heard of me and wished 
 me to stop and preach for them. I did so. Thence 
 on Roanoke, I preached to an audience who had 
 gathered to raise a house. Walking a log over 
 this stream. J fell into the water, and was under 
 Che necessity of swimming out. In Salem. Bote- 
 tou-t count} T was kindly received, and I preach- 
 ed twice in the Methodist meeting house. It was 
 
93 
 
 •'eportecl here and believed by some, that I wa8 
 'idij . and had ran away from my family. A man 
 iold me that he was then immediately from New- 
 own, near my father-in law'?, and he was there 
 old by a Methodist, that my father-in-law, belier- 
 ng 1 never would return . weil with his waggon 
 nd moved my family to his house , to take care of 
 hem! This gave me some uneasiness. Thence I 
 >reached near Amsterdam and in Fincastle. Here 
 rom the post office, I lifted a letter fiom m) wife, 
 vhich gave me great consolation, as it unwittingly 
 contradicted the above report. 
 Thence I went on to Cops, Pattonsburg and 
 t different places in Rockbridge. Here I travel- 
 ed one whole day in the rain, and ate nothing, 
 kbout dark 1 was admitted to take shelter in the 
 ouse of a Presbyterian; but he gave me nothing 
 d eat. Next morning he charged me thirty -three 
 ent>, and a stranger who was present iri time of 
 eckoning. paid it for me. I went nine miles to 
 rother Menga's in Augusta county . and was a- 
 ain provided with a breakfast, having walked 40 
 lile* and fasted thirty six hours I preached in 
 liddlebrook and in Staunton, where I found some 
 lethorlists had turned again?t me. Thence I 
 reached on North river. Harrisonburg, New Mar- 
 et. Mount Pleasant; and on the 2G t h of October 
 preached at brother S. Hickle's in Shenandoah, 
 'here my family met me, 
 
84 
 
 On the 28th, T arrived at my own dwelling', at 
 preached to a Urge audience. I felt great consi 
 lation in my soul, and very thankful to God on tl 
 occasion-— that I had been preserved through m 
 ny trials and dangers , and was permitted to see ir 
 family and friends again in health, in this land 
 changes. 
 
 In this journey I was absent ninety-two daj 
 preached ninety-seven times, and walked upwan 
 of eleven hundred miles — endured many hard ti 
 als and difficulties— delivered from some immi 
 ent dangers — endured much persecution — sa 
 that some professors were convinced of their e 
 rors — some sinners convinced of their sins, ai 
 brought to the knowledge of the truth. 
 
 I preached a few times in my neighborhoo 
 Thence into Frederick county , at and about n 
 father-in-law's, where I was yet known by tl 
 name of *craz\ Thomas !. r ' Some said it was adi 
 honor to the gospel, for a preacher to wear su< 
 a garb as I' did ; though it wa« white and general 
 cleans Some said it was scriptural and the mo 
 suitable. Lo! I found again, what 1 had loi 
 known, that people would differ in their opinion 
 'Thence into Hampshire, and from there I retur 
 ed home. I was absent four weeks, preache 
 twenty-nine time*, and walked upwards ofan hu 
 dred miles, the most of the distance in fnow af 
 
f now commenced teaching school a term of 
 hree months. During- which time, I preached 
 vequently in the neighborhood — at Hottel's 
 chool house. Squire Hottel tried to prevent me 
 rom preaching there, and disturbed the congre- 
 nation; but did not accomplish his purpose. 
 
 About the la§t of February my school expired, 
 nd my family was received, for a time, at my fa* 
 iherin-law's. I preached frequently in the nefgb- 
 k)rhood , and baptised some, and a few professed 
 ieligkm 
 
 April 14th, 1816, 1 went on my way, directing 
 ny course to Maryland In Martinsburg and ia 
 ►hepherdstown, in Virginia. For Sharpsburg, 
 tone meeting house, Funkstown, Hagerstown in 
 Id. I preached to large congregations. Thence 
 (returned to my father inlaw's on the same route, 
 [nd found my family well. 
 
 i In this journey I was absent thirteen days, had 
 reached sixteen times and walked upwards of 
 me hundred miles. I felt joyful in spreading the 
 gospel, while many seemed to feel its power. And 
 [aough I endured some difficulties, my soul tri- 
 umphed in the God of my salvation. 
 \ April 23th, I directed my course towards the 
 Northern hills. I preached at the Round hill?, at 
 irother Hawkin's on North river. Parks' Valley, 
 >orks of Capon, at Sandy ridge, brother Hulls, 
 rotber T. jfresmith's , three times in Jarrsttstown 
 
96 
 
 Sfcdin Burklestown: where a Methodic nreacher, 
 in nisseroi n. ridiculed rue. and though I wa* pre- 
 sent, he told the people I was ignorant, supersti- 
 tion* . enthusiastic, &c. and thatthev ought n t to 
 hear me preach ! The people did not take this for 
 gospel Thence I returned to mv family. I had 
 been absent fifteen days, preached seventeen times)] 
 suffered some necessity and persecution, and saw. 
 some j jj'fbl prospects of the work of the Lord. 
 
 May Mth I directed my course up the country. 
 I was absent 24 days, preached 32 times, baptised 
 three young converts who professed religion un. 
 der my ministry, and walked about one hundred* 
 and sixty miles, 
 
 Thence I preached in a number of places in 
 Frederick and Shenandoah counties, and baptised 
 five who had lately professed religion, near my fa- 
 ther-in-law's. 
 
 On the 10th of July I purchased a horse, as I 
 had found it impracticable to convey my books*-, 
 which I had printed, on foot. 
 
 July 13th. I directed my course for Philadel- 
 phia On my way I preached at JarrettstowBJ 
 Bunkershill, Bucklestown, Martinsbvrg and Shep- # 
 herdstown, Va. fa Sharpsburg, Stone meeting: 
 hou-e, Funk-town, and at other places in .Md. 
 Thence in several places to Philadelphia. In the : 
 city I preached several times. The C 
 brethren now have a spacious and decent bjicft ; 
 
97 
 
 fneeting house on Christian street. Thence to 
 the Great Valley, and from there to Delaware, 
 near Wilmington, where I met with two of my 
 gospel children, not known to me before. They 
 were born of God five years ago aud are yet 
 iaithful and zealous in the cause. 
 
 Thence near Newport, Christiana, Newark, 
 fee. and returned to Philadelphia. I preach- 
 .'d several times and administered the Lord's 
 Supper to the brethren, in Mount Zion meeting 
 louse. 
 
 Thence I returned, and arrived where my 
 amily dwelt, on the 6th of September; found 
 ay children in health, but my wife was in a 
 ickly state. 
 
 In this journey, I was absent about seven 
 feeks had travelled about 700 miles, and 
 reached 51 times. 1 saw some good attend 
 y labors — met with some severe trials — suf- 
 red persecution and distress, and w r as ena- 
 led to glory in tribulation. 
 About this time, having a notion of remov- 
 Kg my family to the state of Ohio, my broth- 
 r-in-law, Jacob Little*, having thesame inten- 
 on, we made a 'sale of our property. I then 
 ent into Maryland, by special request, and 
 reached at Antitem Iron works, and at 
 E 
 
95 
 
 Keedy-s meeting house, &c. and returned xu 
 five days, having preached eleven times. 
 
 About the 15th of September, Jacob Little 
 started for the West, taking my things, which 
 I had reserved for house -keeping, with him. 
 I intended to follow him, with my family,! 
 when I should return from another journey. 
 
 September 29th, 1816, 1 started with my fa- 1 
 mily, in a little carriage, for the Western parts 
 of Virginia. I preached in Stoverstown, Wood-j 
 stock, Mount Pleasant, New Market, Harri- 
 sonburgh, Staunton, brother Menga's Pattons- 
 burg, Cop's, Pincastle, Salem, Montgomery 
 Court house, Newbern, Pea creek, and . at 
 Wythe Court house, where some of the rabble 
 stole my carriage, run it half a mile out of 
 town and left it standing in a man's yard. I; 
 then went into Grayson county and preached 
 in different places. 
 
 Almost five years before this time, I had T 
 while living in N. Carolina, endorsed a note 
 of seventy-five dollars, for my brother Jacob, 
 which 1 thought, and had understood, had ; 
 been paid long since, having passed several 
 transfers, was here presented to me for pay-) 
 ment. I immediately paid it! Thi> 
 hard stroke. 
 
99 
 
 Thence I returned nearly on the same route, 
 until I arrived at my father-in-law's. In this 
 journey I was absent about seven weeks, .prea- 
 ched forty times, met with some hard trials, 
 and traveled about seven hundred miles. 
 
 I now was informed that my brother Jacob 
 had been here and had sold my note, which 
 I he held against me, to D. Faucett, and that 
 ' the man expected immediate payment ! Alas I 
 I thought I, this is surely the climax of infidelity 
 land of injustice. 
 
 Now all my calculations and arrangements 
 f were frustrated. I went to see the owner of 
 1 the note, and found that it was transferred to 
 Col. J. Gilkeson, who was kind to me, in tins 
 case, by waiting- six months for payment. 1 
 now could not go on to the West, as I intend- 
 ed, in consequence of this debt. I had sold 
 out, and sent to the West, my household pro- 
 perty, and had nothing wherewith to keep 
 house. 
 
 Previous to this, D. Hess, of Maryland, had 
 invited me to bring m} r family to his ••• 
 thatl rai^ht preach the more in his region; but 
 at that time I thought it would not suit my ar 
 ranger' K - to comply witii his request. 
 
100 
 
 Was the only opening: that I could see Provi* 
 dcnce had made tor me. 
 
 December 2d, I arrived with my family at 
 jny friend D. fless's in Washington county, 
 Md. We were received with aifection, and 
 treated with great hospitality and kindness. 
 For which, I hope to feel ever grateful to him 
 and his family; and pray that they may be 
 amply rewarded in the great day of retribu- 
 tion. 
 
 I left my family at D. Hess's, and continued 
 to preach in different parts of Maryland — into 
 Baltimore several times; and several times in 
 different places in Virginia, until the 27th of 
 March 1817. Within this time I preached 74 
 times, and travelled about 700 miles. I met 
 with many oppositions and persecutions from 
 the Sectarians, whose interest it was to put me 
 down. During this time I sold a great many 
 Hymn books, sermons, and the "Pilgrim's 
 Muse," which I had printed. 
 
 March 17th 1817, My wife brought forth a 
 son, and we named him Lorenzo. 
 
 .March 27th 1817, 1 went on my way, direct- 
 ing my course for the Western country. I 
 preached at my father-in-law's in Frederick 
 countv, Va.. 
 
101 
 
 Thence in Stoverstown, Woodstock, Mount 
 (feasant, New Market, l.L;rnsonburr, Staun- 
 ton, Menga's. Thence I travelled all day in 
 the rain. After night, I put up in a disagree- 
 able cabin, where I found no bed, had nothing 
 to eat, tied my horse to a bu?h, where he re- 
 mained till morning. At Pattonsburg,Cop's, Fin* 
 ca*tlc, ^alein, Montgomery Court house, New* 
 bern, Saunder'son New river, in different pla- 
 ces in Grayson county, Wythe Court house, 
 where a man passed a twenty dollar counter- 
 feit note on me, which I had afterwards crossn* 
 cd in the bank of Philadelphia. 
 
 Thence at different places to Abington, and 
 on to Bean's Station in Tenn. Large confer 
 gations generally attended, and in some places 
 I saw the work of the Lord prosper, & thought 
 the Lord was with me. 
 
 . Thence I took the Kentucky road ; crossed 
 Clinch mountain and Clinch river, and lay all 
 night on the bank. Here commences a lone^ 
 some and extensive wilderness, with here and 
 there acibia, to take the traveller's money. — 
 Passed Tazewell Court house, Powel's river, 
 Cumberland Gap — a dreary, rugged and des- 
 olate part of the world. A suitable residence^ 
 anly, for the venturous hawk, or the more lofv 
 
i02 
 
 ty soaring eagle. O ! the sublimity of nature's ' 
 works. What tremendous confusion seems to 
 spread along the distant wild. A thundergust 
 came up. 0!what majestic rumbling in the 
 mountain forest. I called at a little hut, on 
 Yellow creek. A mighty hail came on. I 
 came on to Lexington in Kentucky, where I 
 hoped to meet with friends and brethren ; but . 
 by the influence of brother R. Dooly, my way 
 was straightened and my former friends treated 
 me coolly. Thence 1 went on to Cane ridge, 
 and attended a meeting of the Christian breth- 
 ren, a£J0>?i&ord, where I wished to have the. 
 difficulties settled, but charges not being prov- 
 able, the matter remained where it had been, 
 F^mthe conduct of the brethren, with many 
 om I had formerly enjoyed many happy 
 seasons and had parted from them in Christian 
 fellowship, I was left astonished at the insta- 
 bility and uncertainty of mortal's friendship. I 
 was rejected on the ground of vile and found* 
 less slander ! ! 
 
 I found a friend in Dr. Mitchell and in a few 
 Others. 
 
 May 8th, as I was making my way to Mayij 
 ville,in a large forest, the top of a dead tree^ 
 broke and fell so 6udden, that my creature I 
 
iOJ 
 
 being much frightened, sudd .nly wheeled 
 round and threw me, but a little distance from 
 the ponderous limbs, which otherwise would 
 have crushed me to death! I was somewhat 
 hurt by the fall, but felt unspeakably thankful 
 that my life was preserved. I crossed the Ohio 
 river at Maysville. 1 preached in different 
 place- in Ohio, and came and held meeting 
 at my brother Griffith's, and at my brother-in- 
 law's, Jacob Little's, in Green county. Thence 
 1 preached in different places in the state of 
 Ohio, Pennsylvania and Maryland, till I arri- 
 ved where my family dwelt, which was on the 
 29th of May, 1817. 
 
 In this journey, I was absent about sixty 
 . travelled upwards' of 1,400 miles, preach- 
 
 ' ed 47 times, expended forty-seven dollars, and 
 had two dollars and seventy-five cents given 
 me. I met with necessities, hard trials, and 
 
 i much persecution, and was sometimes greatly 
 dejected in my mind, and disgusted at the de- 
 ception and treachery of many professors of re- 
 ligion. 
 
 June 9th, I and my family took our leave of 
 our dear and kind friends in Maryland, and 
 on the 1 2th, I arrived at my father-in-law's, in 
 Frederick county s Va. I left my family here. 
 
104 
 
 and in a few days directed my course for Ma* 
 ryland. 
 
 I preached in Battletown, Charlestpwn and 
 at Harper's ferry in Virginia. In Pleasant 
 Valley, Middletown, Fredericktown, New 
 Market, Poplar Springs, New Lisbon, Hietts* 
 town, Clarksburg and Baltimore, in Mary- 
 land. I returned on the same route, and arri- 
 red at my father-in-law's on the 17th of July. 
 
 In this journey I was absent twenty-eight 
 days, travelled about three hundred miles, and 
 preached twenty-nine times. Congregation* 
 were generally so lar.re, that we frequently 
 had to sit in the woods. I saw great success^ 
 in some places, attend my labors, and felt glad 
 that priest craft was weakening, and that 
 creeds and confessions were loosing their inilu* 
 ence. 
 
 1 preached several times in the neighborhood, 
 and thence on Back creek, at Gonotown, Nes- 
 with"s, gull's, C's. L's. Forks of Capon, Sandy 
 Rid^e meeting house, Parks valley ; at Sandy 
 Ri ;! re a^ain, where I organized a church. 
 Thence I returned to my father-in-law's and 
 found my family well. 
 
 In this journey I wasabsent seven days, tra- 
 velled about one hundred miles, and preached 
 
10£ 
 
 thirteen times; suffered some necessity, and saw 
 and felt some joyful seasons of the lore of God. It 
 was not uncommon when the people knew where I 
 put up, for them to come in at night, and fill th© , 
 house, expecting- to hear something from me! 
 
 July 30th, I started for the Western country* 
 accompanied by D. Hess, of Maryland. I went 
 through different parts of the state of Ohio, as far 
 back as Mad-river, and the Great Miami. I pur- 
 chased eighty acres of improved, land, of James 
 Love, on-Rush creek, a few miles from the , town 
 ©f Rushville. in Fairfield county, for which 1 was 
 to pay eight hundred dollars 1 paid him four 
 hundred dollars in hand. Thebalance was to be 
 paid, one hundred dollars annnally; commencing 
 in twelve months after the ensuing April. I re- 
 turned to my father-in law's the 27th of August, 
 having been absent four weeks— travelled about 
 900 miles, and preached seventeen times — many 
 incidents I omit. 
 
 September 4th, I directed my course up the 
 country, f preached in Stoverstown, S. Hickle's j 
 Narrow Passage, Riddle's, Hickie's school house. 
 Mount Pleasant, New Market, and on Smith's 
 creek, in Rockingham county. Here I organized 
 a church. Thence I returned on the same route, 
 and arrived at my father-in-law's. I was absent 
 sixteen days, travelled 140 miles, and preached 
 eighteen times, I met with some persecul 
 
 E 2 
 

 100 
 
 saw some melting effects of the word prra^hed a* 
 mong the people —bad some trial* and temptations, 
 and had g^pre given to console and deliver me. 
 
 I must, for the present, brine- this compend 
 of niy travels to a close ; necessarily leaving out 
 several years of iny life. Though in this space 
 of time, I have passed through some of the most 
 severe and important trials, and remarkable 
 circumstances that have occurred during my 
 days. 
 
 A series of trials and persecutions were com- 
 menced against me, in May, 1821, by preach- 
 ers and others, who 1, 1 formerly professed 
 much christian fellowship and attachment for 
 me, living in the lower regions of Virginia. In 
 November following, in a conferrence (as they 
 called it) held at the Republican Chapel, in 
 Isle of Wight county, Va. they levelled their 
 artillery of abuse against me. They publish- 
 ed me as then having excommunicated me, 
 (though I can prove by documents now in my 
 possession, that I, at and before that time, no 
 more belonged to their ecclesiastical jurisdic- 
 tion, than I did to the jurisdiction of the Pope 
 of Rome, or to the Hierarchy of the Church of 
 England.) Their publication contained the 
 most daring and nefarious LIBEL that I ever 
 
107 
 
 knew men venture to publish to the world. 
 When it reached the part of country where I 
 lived and was known, it enraged the public 
 mind, broke the common peace, and for awhile 
 the authors were, by many, threatened with 
 violence, if they should show their faces in 
 those regions. 
 
 Those authors, though some of them had ne- 
 ver seen me, and none of them had seen me but 
 one short space, during eleven years, presumed 
 to develope the general and minute parts of my 
 character; in which they were bold to say 
 that I was a "common liar," "extremely un- 
 stable, hypocritical, deceiver," &c &c. with 
 many other things equally libellous and un- 
 true ' ! 
 
 During 1822 and 1823, R F Fergusoa, in sup- 
 port of whose character I was principally bro't 
 into this scene of distress, made use of this pub- 
 lication as an engine with which (many of the 
 brethren thought) he might have me put back 
 out of the De< ifpheses way. Of course I wac 
 brought to trial to answer to the accusations 
 alleged in the publication. 1 was considered 
 clear of moral turpitude. I was brought to tri- 
 al ngain. I was again considered in the same 
 light. By some kind of testification, I way 
 
108 
 
 brought to trial again to answer to tfees&mc 
 lication! I was again considered in the same, 
 light. 
 
 I then obtained a certificate, signed by Elder 
 R. F. Ferguson, Elder E Harvey, and Elder C. 
 Sine, stating that the accusations in the above 
 publication^ there were none other) had been 
 investigated, and that they and the churches 
 retained rue in my standing, as before the publi- 
 cation, andin full fellowship. 
 
 During this time I proceeded to get the affida- 
 vits, certificates and signatures of hundreds of 
 the respectable citizens of Rockingham, Shen- 
 andoah, Frederick, Hampshire, Loudon and 
 Fauquer counties, who, during a number of 
 years, had been familiarly acquainted with my 
 public and private character, to testify what 
 they knew concerning it. The following ^re 
 a small part of what I obtained. The much 
 larger balance I retain in my possession : 
 
109 
 
 CERTIFICATES- 
 
 This will certify that wc the undersigned, 
 have known the public character of Mr Joseph 
 Thomas, and have also been personally ac- 
 quainted with him many years, and we can 
 truly and safely say, that he is well known, 
 and taken to be an innocent, pious, good and 
 faithful christian and preacher of the gospel. 
 lie is esteemed for the punctuality and candor 
 of his word and conversation, We have ne- 
 ver, known any charge or accusation of any 
 kind alleged against his moral character ; so 
 'far from it, that as far as we know, or can learn, 
 he has, since his first coming into this country? 
 stood fair and irreproachable in the estimation 
 of all who know him. 
 
 Given under our hands, in Mount Pleasant, 
 Shenandoah county, Va. April 14th, 1822. 
 
 J. Morgan, R. Winfield, M. D., W. R. New- 
 ham, M. Goodrich, S. Walton, esq. J. New- 
 ham, E. Clark, R. Allen, A. Rhodes, M Moore, 
 D. Peters, I. Lutz, J. Osborn, J. Moon, M. 
 Sigler, J.Wilson, M. D., H. Higgins, J. Par- 
 ker, J. Bedinger, J. Bvumfield, J. Harris, J. 
 
210 
 
 I his will testify that we the undersigned' 
 have been personally acquainted with Mr* 
 Joseph Thomas, nine or ten years last past. 
 We have always known him to be a man of 
 truth and candor, piety and virtue, against 
 whom we have never known any accusation, 
 nor species of immorality of any kind, at any 
 time substantiated. His character therefore, 
 as far as we can ascertain, remains unimpeach- 
 able, and worthy to be relied on as a christian 
 and faithful and useful preacher of the gospel. 
 
 Given under our hands in Hampshire county 
 Va. April 20. 1822. 
 
 J. Zidwell, J. Hiett, A. Cooper, J. Dela- 
 plain, J. Hawkins, J. Kidwell, Jer. Hiett, D. 
 Little, John Kidwell, H. Kidwell, A. Kidwell, 
 J. Higgins, J. Hawkins, D. Hawkins, J. High- 
 ett,S. Ward, J. Ellis, W. Demington,T. M'-^ 
 Kirker, J. Pennington, E. Pennington, T. Long, 
 T. Pennington, J. M'Vicker, J. Albin, Wm. 
 Dunlap, Wm. Jenning, Wm. La Follet, F, 
 Good, J. Long, I. Pennington, B. Gulder, D. 
 Anderson, J. Hiett, J. Wilson. 
 
 This is to certify that I have been personal- 
 ly acquainted with the Rev . Joseph Thomas, 
 for nine or ten years. — In this time, I have had 
 
Ill 
 
 oattsiderable de'allings and intercourse with 
 him. I have always found him to be a man o* 
 punctuality, honesty and. truih. I have always 
 known him to be very correct in all his trans- 
 actions in business, and can pronounce him to 
 the best of my knowledge, worthy the esteem 
 and confidence of the public. His public cha- 
 racter, as.far as I know ©r can learn, stands 
 fair and unimpeachable. 
 
 Given under my hand at Woodstock, Va« 
 this 2ist day of Feb. 1822. 
 
 J. RINKER,Jun. Esq, 
 
 Shenandoah county, to wit: 
 This day personally appeared before me, 
 John W. Rice, one of the justices of the peace 
 for the county of Shenandoah, Wm. E. Clark 
 and James Severs, and made oath to the fol- 
 lowing statements respecting Joseph Thomas, 
 Given under my hand this 20th day of Feb. 
 1822. .JOHN W. RICE. 
 
 , Wm. E. Clark, have been intimately ac- 
 quainted with the public and 'private charac- 
 ter of Elder Joseph Thomas about five years. 
 During this time I -have been much in his com- 
 pany, and often at his house. I have ever found 
 him strictly upright,, humble and pious. I have 
 
112 
 
 always found him to be of a gentle, meek and 
 of mind — a man of the strict- 
 est truth, probity and veracity. I know of no 
 man who has more iron 
 
 is more worthy of the general esteem and con- 
 fidence of all his neighbor-?, and people who 
 know him, than the said Joseph Thomas. \* 
 far as I know, his character in private is amia* 
 ble, virtuous and useful ; and in public, is en- 
 viable and unimpeachable.. 
 
 WILLIAM E. CLARK. 
 
 Having been acquainted with the above na- 
 med J. Thomas for a number of year-, I fully 
 concur in the sentiments of the above affidavit 
 and know him to be a man who maintains the 
 best of character as a harmless citizen, a pi- 
 ous christian, a man of truth, and as a useful 
 and eminent preacher of the gospel ; and to 
 the farthest ot my knowledge, irreproachable 
 in all his demeanor. JAMES SEVE I 
 
 I have known Elder Joseph Thomas for up*' 
 wards of ten years last oast. During this time 
 he has been a frequent and welcome visiter at 
 my house, so that I have become very familiar, 
 and intimate with him. I have alwiv 
 
in 
 
 served him to be very pious and humble, and 
 [strictly correct in all his conversation. I have 
 I never known him to deviate in word or deed 
 from truth and virtue. Therefore from ten 
 lyears' acquaintance with him, I must pro- 
 inounce him, in my esteem, a man of truth, a 
 (pious christian, and an example of gojod mor- 
 jals to his fellow creatures, and worthy the con- 
 fidence of the public. As far as 1 have become 
 acquainted with his public character, it stands 
 high and unspotted in the estimation of the 
 people. HENRY SPITZER. 
 
 Shenandoah county, to icit: 
 
 This day personally appeared before me, 
 k John W. Rice, one of the justices of the peace 
 for the county of Shenandoah, Henry Spitzer, 
 and made oath to the above statement respect- 
 ing Joseph Thomas. 
 
 Given under my hand this 20th day of Febru- 
 ary 1822. .JOHN W. RICE. 
 
 Nevj Market, Shenandoah co. Feb. 20, 1 822. 
 This is to certify, that so far as I am acquain- 
 ted with Henry Spitzer, James Severs, and 
 W. E. Clark, I believe them to be men of truth 
 and respectability, JOHN W. RICE, 
 
> 
 
 114 
 
 This may certify to all whom it may con- 1 
 cern, that I have been personally acquainted | 
 v. Joseph Thomas, forthela^t nine 
 years, -upwards of a year of which time, I re- 
 sided with him. The sentiments held by him 
 as a professor of religion, are well known. I 
 believe him to be a man of integrity and virtue; 
 who endeavors to practice the doctn 
 promulgates — to live honestly, deal justly, anp 
 do good to mankind. • I 
 
 Given under my hand, this 25th day of Apri* 
 at Big Capon, in the county of Hardy,. 
 Virginia. JOHN KERN, Jr. 
 
 Hard}/ county, to wit : 
 
 Personally came before me, John Littler, a 
 
 • of the peace for the county aforesaicU 
 
 Kern Jr. thi 3 day, and made oath that ha 
 
 . d the Rev. Joseph Thomas to merit the! 
 
 cter given him in the above certificateJ 
 
 I do hereby certify that the testimy of the said 
 
 John Kern Jr. may be relied on. 
 
 Given under my hand and seal at Big Ca- 
 pon, in said county, this 25th day of April, 
 A. D. 1822. JOHN LITTLER. 
 
 Personally appeared before me, John Ship- 
 man a justice of the peace in and for Rocking 
 
11 5 
 
 am county, Va. Daniel Pickering, Daniel 
 . s, Martin Mart.; and Julia Coweri, and 
 
 to the following: 
 have been acquainted with the charac- 
 ter of Joseph Thomas upward years. 
 During which time we .have been much in his 
 iy, and have; become intimately ac- 
 ruainted with his common conversation and 
 :onduct. We have always observed in Li;n 
 the strictest piety, probity and virtue, and 
 
 fave never known him to be guilty of the least 
 riminal or immoral act of any kind, but has 
 been remarkable, in our esteem, for his v 
 ty, humility, and the exercise of all the christ- 
 ian principles. In a word, his character is that 
 of a harmless, useful and irreproachable christ- 
 ian; which character he also eminei.tiy main- 
 tains in public estimation, as far as we have 
 ever heard or known from personal acquaint- 
 ance. Given under our hands, this .3th day of 
 Feb. 182-2. JOHN COWKN, 
 
 MARTIN MARTZ, 
 DANL. MATHE 
 DANL. PICKERING. 
 
 Thi* will certify that the bearer Elder Jo- 
 seph Thomas, is a mimsterof the gospel, whoso 
 
 I 
 
116 
 
 apiritual labors have been remarkably Wes 
 in our country. His moral and religion! cha 
 racter has stood the storms of persecution anc 
 the envyings of many false brethren ; and re« 
 mains pure and untarnished. No trans- res- 
 sion nor sin can be charged upon him by hie 
 most invidious enemies. He stands respected 3 
 and applauded, by the mass of has acquaintan- 
 ces ; and as being very useful and eminent, by 
 his brethren. 
 
 We therefore recommend him to all where 
 he may £0, as a brother whose praise if in all 
 the churches ; and pray that he may be as ac- 
 ceptable to them as he is to us. 
 
 Given under our hands this 24th day of Sep*'- 
 tember, A. D. 1825, Shenandoah county, Va. 
 
 Elders — James Dickinson, Thomas Cotrell. 
 Joseoh Wattson, Clerk of the Christian church 
 in Strasbunr, signed in behalf of the church. 
 Adam Kern, Frederick county, Walter A. 
 Smith, Fauquer county, Va. Matthias Mill*' 
 yard, Deacon, in behalf of the church of Rock- 
 ingham county, Amos Hilliad, James O'Kane. 
 
 We the undersigned do certify that Elder 
 Joseph Thomas has been well known by us, 
 above seven years, above four years of whicljk 
 
Ill 
 
 line he has lived a neighbor amongst us. Hi? 
 ublic and private walks, have been closely 
 /atched and critically examined ; his spiritual 
 ibors and worldly transactions ; his deport- 
 lent at home and in the region round about, 
 uring this time, has been such as to gain not 
 ply our approbation, but our highest esteem — 
 ,ur lasting respect and constant prayer. We 
 lave always found him to be a man of truth 
 ml candor; a man of piety and patience; a 
 mn of persevering zeal in the cause of reli- 
 ion ; a man of exemplary \iic in all godliness 
 nd honesty. He has always stood as a very 
 seful and eminent preacher of the gospel a- 
 longst us — always highly respected; his con- 
 regations generally large and attentive; and 
 Is house sufficiently resorted to by private 
 om panics, to convince him of the high seat 
 e occupies in our affections. He first came 
 mongst us under persecutions and aspersions, 
 hich caused us to watch him the closer; but 
 ow being well acquainted with him, we be- 
 eve every accusation that would injure his 
 haracter, to be false ; as we think we fully 
 now the man, we cordially recommend him 
 o our fellow citizens, as a faithful, useful and 
 Diinent preacher of the gospel, and a man a- 
 
118 
 
 gainst whom no evil thing can be alleged -t$ 
 our knowledge, in our regions. 
 
 Given under our hands in Rockingham co; 
 Virginia, May 10th, 1826. 
 
 J Martz,jun S Martz, J Martz, sen A Martz, J 
 R Miller, J Byrd. A Twarz A B Lincoln, J 
 Magee, M Martz, J Martz, F Martz,A Phillip^ 
 S K Fuller, M Lore, P Koontz, Sen. H Billery 
 J O'Kane, J Dunlap, R Ellison, H O'Kane, 
 G Barr, S Matthews, J Phillips, H Martz, O 
 Lore, A Hilyard, D Martz, M Martz, Cfc 
 Beaver,S Lowman, J Beaver, T Beaver, D Low 
 man, G Rodes, M Bazzel, J Walton, D Pick*! 
 cring, E Henton. 
 
 I will promise my readers, that if a second edi^j 
 tion of this publication be called for during my] 
 life, I will enlarge this compend and fully devel ] 
 cpe all those important circumstances and occur-l 
 rences, which singularly chequer the last teal 
 years of my life. 
 
 On the 18th of May, 1826, I and my family, leftJ 
 Rockingham county, Va. in the presence of u 
 numerous and weeping assembly, who had comej 
 to give us their last and endearing farewell, and- 
 started on a remove to the state of Ohio. Having^ 
 a prosperous and-^agreeable journey, on the 22d ofl 
 June, we made a stop in Green county. OhioJ 
 Y n a few days I made a mircbaie of 127 acre? m 
 
119 
 
 and of Mr. James Kent, ons of the most honora- 
 ble and confidential men, thus far, that I have had 
 ^ny worldly dealings with, in Madison county — a 
 Diane called "Grassy Point." 
 
 I and my family are well satisfied with the place 
 and with the country. 
 
 Since I have resided here, I have labored on 
 fny farm — travelled and preached indi/Ierent parts 
 )f the state, as circumstances have admitted. I 
 im pleased with the general prospect of religton 
 among my christian brethren with whom I have 
 jeen made acquainted in this state. 
 
 May the Lord prosper them and add to his 
 :hurch daily; and may I meet my Father's chil- 
 dren iu yet a better country than this. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 TO TH2 POSivSS. 
 
 What I am, as a poet, must be left to a scm« 
 nizing public. If these poems should come 
 lefore the Literati, the Re viewer, or the self* 
 peated Critic* whose business and whose de- 
 ght it is, to find faults and to declaim Coium- 
 ta's Muse; and within whose falcon clavys 
 any useful and as »iring geniuses have suffer- 
 9 a painful and lingering death ; they should 
 member who I am, and whence I came. By 
 lading the preceding sketch, they may learn 
 at I was born in obscurity, and have strugg- 
 led into their notice only by nature's force. 
 I have read no language but my own, and 
 ive travelled no land but the land of Free- 
 en. Their country has a long sea-side strand, 
 dented with noble rivers, bays and harbors, 
 here ride a thousand gallant vessels, ladened 
 th the riches of the c;lobe, interspersed with 
 wns and cities, whose lofty spires and mag- 
 [icent structures, bespeak an enterprizine 
 d patriotic nation. Their country hag ift 
 F 
 
122 
 
 mountains too, stretching from one boundary 
 to the other, where nature has play e J her 
 wildest freaks, and exhibited her most gigan* 
 tic wonders. Their country has its Western 
 forest?, where awful solitude reigns — its beauti- 
 ous diins, where variegated flowers and rose9 
 blooinasfar as eye explores — its copious rir- 
 ers pouring from unknown lands to the ocean, 
 Here, beauty, variety and sublimity, unite and 
 constitute the most propitious land on the face 
 of nature! This is the country I have travel- 
 led — the only field which has furnished my im- 
 agery and inspired my muse. 
 
 I have been constrained, for years past, to 
 court the muses with assiduity and treat de- 
 li- It : but date not say that one of them has 
 deigned to smile on me ! I have courted them, 
 not so much in Libraries, as in the lonesome 
 mountains, and the diversified fields of nature. 
 Not within the walls of Colleges; but among 
 the grass-grown graves of the dead, and the si- 
 lent tomb stones. Not so much in the cities 
 and the world's ?r\y bustle, as along the moss- 
 grown banks of the meadow streams, or on the 
 roar ;in of the bablinc brooks, that play along 
 the sequestered wilds. There have I seen 
 ■ hem lave their snow-white limbs in the lucid 
 
123 
 
 wave ; but coy of my approach have frequent- 
 Jy retired beyond my ascent the towering steeps 
 of great Parnassus. Oft have I pursued their 
 flight till clouds and frowning shades have hid 
 them from my view. Oft have 1 searched in 
 their frequented and solitary baunts, their fairy 
 traces, and bowry seats, among the ivies, the 
 Cyprus shades, and green woods, till I, as oft, 
 have became bewildered, exhausted and hope- 
 less! 
 
 And were it not for the infinite pleasure I feel 
 in gaining a distant and transient glimpse of 
 the soul transporting form of famed Urania. 
 I would, long since, have ceased my overtures 
 in utter despair. But she has fascinated me. By 
 some magic spell she has wooed me to her 
 haunts, where, at distance I sit in silent but 
 pleasing melancholy, and listen to the inimi- 
 table notes that fill her varied song. The melt- 
 ing music that warbles in her airs, has thrilled 
 through my veins and inspired in me a rude 
 imitation of her soul-entrancing carols. 
 
 I have not mused in silent halls, without the* 
 cares and wants of life to interrupt my medi- 
 tations, nor have I written these poems where 
 ease and books and literary friends have sur- 
 rttuded me; bat in the midst oX opressive* 
 
124 
 
 trials, cares and wants — on the side o fthe road, 
 when weary and hungr) — on the banks of ri- 
 vers, or on the mountain's top; or when I 
 could retire a moment from the clamors of a 
 strange family, or steal a welcome hour from, 
 hard manual labor, the most of them have 
 >een brought forth-. 
 
POETttS. 
 
 ON MY NEW PEN. 
 YOU now are new, you look quite fan\ 
 But you are formed for toil and care ; 
 You soon must plunge within that ocean, 
 Wnrre you must swim in vast commotion I 
 Your fate's unknown, but I will say, 
 You'll meet with tempests in the way, 
 Unless you sail with every tide, 
 And make each veering wind your guide* 
 Surrounding hosts of furious foes, 
 Will from afar, your course oppose; 
 And all combine to sink and drown you, 
 And in the deep with vengeance frown yott.. 
 One thing that augurs ill, I think, — 
 You'rg ,dQom'd to dabble in the ink! ' 
 The task that seems laid out for you, 
 Is c;uite unpleasant — painful too. 
 If you intetod to be correct, 
 The faults ctanen you must detect, 
 And tell themW their sins and blunders* 
 In melting strains and loud as thunders. 
 Like niadden'd bees they'll then arise, 
 £nd sting you deep, your words despise. 
 
126 
 
 For your advice they'll loudly blame you-* 
 Misrepresent and much defame you. 
 My dear young friend, now let me say y 
 You'd better tread the beaten way ; 
 And never fail all men to flatter, 
 If ri^ht, or wrong, that makes no matter; 
 Look o'er their faults, and let them be, 
 What others do is naught to thee. 
 
 Go join yourself to some big creed, 
 And that will license every deed; 
 Your friends will then in swarms surround yotij 
 And priestly ease and wealth abound you ; 
 The world will then admire the feather, 
 Caress and praise you altogether ! 
 When you behold the priests' corruptions, 
 And all their craft and interruptions, 
 Say not a word against their plan, 
 But join the most applauded clan ; 
 Be oriest yourself that interest take, 
 And then be mute for conscience' sake; 
 You'll find it will your store increase, 
 To shear the flock and take the fleece, 
 Pen up your fold within their bounds, 
 IS or let them tread forbidden grounds 1 
 Go feed them on old Popish stuff, 
 On men's inventions, hu'^e and rough, 
 And swell them up with pride and fashion* 
 
127 
 
 And cive them John's or Martin's ration! 
 They'll scarcely then suspect you wrong, 
 But loudly praise you in the throne:, 
 They'll Jove, and fear, and strict obey yo;a> 
 And for your service richly pay you. 
 Now take my word while you are young, 
 Lest you be beaten, bruis'd and stung. 
 And if you will be wayward led, 
 You may too late think what I've said, 
 
 To this the pen in warmth replied^ 
 Thou hypocrite and worse beside, 
 To try to lead me from the truth, 
 And make me Devil in my youth. 
 Your sage advice I must despise, 
 And deem it fruitless and unwise; 
 I heard it with surprise and horror, 
 It 111 I'd my soul with grief and sorrow,. 
 I see mankind by priests ire blinded, 
 But few sincere and honest minded ; 
 They've made religion cloak to hide, 
 The works of larkness sin and pride, 
 I will not crowd their beaten way, 
 But tell them they are gone astray. 
 I'll take the word of God in hand, 
 And on that rock by faith I'll stand, 
 And loud on nose the Diiests' inventions, 
 Their numerous creeds and bud intention? 
 
128 
 
 And though I should be quite alone^ 
 
 And re resented sad, forlorn ; 
 
 Though priests should rise in hosts around me, 
 
 They shall not daunt nor once confound me. 
 
 I'll try to teach the truth and say, 
 
 Beware of priests their craft and way, 
 
 Their orthodox is now astray! 
 
 I care not what they say of me, 
 
 I was a quill, and quill I'll be, 
 
 I'll mark their faults — their faults Pll scribble, 
 
 Though they may rage and loudly quibble; 
 
 I will not seek my future fame, 
 
 Nor sink at censure on my name; 
 
 I'll speak in prole and various measure, 
 
 "Without regard to earthly treasure. 
 
 AN ELEGY, 
 
 On the death of Rice Haggard, an eminent 
 preacher of the gospel-*- well known, ana high* 
 ly esteemed, in the South and West by the 
 Christian brethren. He died at an advanced 
 age in Champaign county, Ohio, when on a 
 journey to preach the gospel. 
 O ! Haggard ! thou hast left thy house of clay, 
 And win^'d thy passage to immortal day ! 
 Kiivl Angels haird thee to their bright abode, 
 And shouted welcome, valiant son of God.- 
 
129 
 
 Imagination points me now thy throne, 
 Among the saints and highest seraphs knowfi, 
 There dwells thy spirit, and forever reigns, 
 Triumphant in high heaven's supernal plains 
 
 No storms distress thee in thy sweet repose ? 
 But heavenly peace on thee thy God bestows, 
 Thy toils are ended, and thy fortune's fou'id, 
 Where golden treasures and rich spoils abound ; 
 Eternal honors crown thy worthy brow, 
 And scenes celestial open to thee now! 
 
 I hail thee gladly in thy robes of white f 
 On streets of gold — in mansions of delight. 
 Np howling winds, nor tempests beat thee there ^ 
 Nor earthly wants to generate thy care, 
 Thou bast escap'd thy native land below, 
 To ever live where trees ambrosial grow ; 
 Thou hast behind thee, left a name reverM, 
 That once consol'd the saints, & sinners fear'dt 
 
 In youth thy God commanded thee away, 
 From fond pursuits and objepts of the day — 
 To leave the phon^n, & all thy friends around. 
 To seek a Saviour and the gospel sound. 
 
 Thy parents poor, had never taught thee then^ 
 To read the Eible, nor to use the pen ; 
 But in the smooth sand thou didst learn to wri£c ft 
 And taught thyself to read "by faggot light! 
 F 2 
 
130 
 
 Not long till science shone upon thy mind, 
 Thy sins forsaken and thy soul refin'd, 
 The Saviour- s call to sound the Jubilee, 
 Was loudly heard and then obeyM by thee. 
 
 In melting strains thy youthful voice was 
 heard, 
 And weeping eyes among the crowds appeared ; 
 Thy son'rous voice, like silver trumpet's sound, 
 Awak'd the sinner from his sleep profound ; 
 Convinc'd him he was in the downward way, 
 Constraint him to repent, to weep and pray. 
 
 Thy friends — a num'rous train, now left in 
 tears, 
 To mourn thee absent for some tedious } r cars, 
 Do fondly hope to meet thee once again, 
 Where death is foil'd in heav-ns extended plain. 
 
 _____ V^TNV 
 
 ON WINTER. 
 FAREWELL, ye pleasant shades and bloom- 
 ing flow 1 rs, 
 Ye passing zephyrs and refreshing showers, 
 Farewell, ye plumy birds in mellow lay, 
 And all ye pleasures of the summer's day- 
 Cold winter comes and nips with frost th£ 
 bloom, 
 And shrouds the forests with a sullen eloom * 
 
131 
 
 He binds the mellow earth in icy chains, 
 And shakes his hoary locks and griritfy reigns,. 
 He comes in howling tempests, frosts and snow, 
 And swells his chilly blasts on all below ; 
 He drives his northern storms alone; the sky. 
 And growls loud terror as he passes by. 
 Dark clouds presage his giant presence near, 
 And forests loose the foilage of the year; 
 He binds the waters — flings his snows amain, 
 And drifts the mountain and the distant plain. 
 
 Beneath his steps a thousand insects die, 
 And skulking beasts unite a frighted cry, 
 His chilling breath makes nature's beautiei 
 
 fade, 
 Despoils the umbrage of the bow'ry shade. 
 Thp songs are hush'd that thrill'd along the 
 
 plain, 
 And flocks and herds lie down with sullen pain ; 
 The summer birds have fled his chilling sway. 
 To chaunt their notes along in milder day ; 
 The plains and forests mourn his frosty hand, 
 The feeble sun scarce peeps upon the land. 
 
 >o shall the days of youthful sports be sped, 
 And wintry age shall whiten on the head, 
 No revel scenes to cheer the old man's pow'rs, 
 But-dull and cheerless drag his tedious hours; 
 
132 
 
 The charm? of earth now fading in his cjty 
 Bid him farewell and far forever fly! 
 
 THE RURAL CHRISTIAN. 
 THERE lives a man remote frompride> 
 
 From ostentation free, 
 The holy spirit ishis guide — 
 
 But few so kind as he. 
 No gorgeous pillars prop his dome, 
 
 Nor pompous art display 'd ; 
 But there remains his humble home, 
 
 Immersed in willow shade- 
 Around this antique dwelling grows, 
 
 The sweet perennial flowers, 
 That scent the zephyr as it blows 
 
 Along the leafy bowers. 
 The waving blue grass makes the green., 
 
 And woos the passing eyes; 
 While flowing shrub'ry deck the scene a 
 
 And Lombard poplars rise. 
 A fruitful garden then extends 
 
 Along the passing way; 
 And with surrounding beauty blends^ 
 
 Aad erowjas the toils of May 
 
1S| 
 
 But all this outward rural bloom, 
 
 Can faintly paint to thee, 
 The bliss that decks the cottage room, 
 
 When strangers come to see. 
 The wants of nature are supplied,. 
 
 By mercy's tender hand; 
 With this the man is satisfied, 
 
 And would no more demand. 
 His humble wife and children sweet, 
 
 In harmony unite ; 
 And round the throne of mercy meet — 
 
 Enjoy supreme delight. 
 There meekness, peace and friendship dwell, 
 
 Upon that hallow'd ground ; 
 And from each breast sweet praises swell, 
 
 For blessings they have found. 
 
 His wealth is more than shining dust, 
 Or more than kings bestow — 
 
 A hope of crowns that cannot rust*. 
 Rcleas'd from earth below. 
 
 RETIREMENT. 
 LET me retire from noisy life, ' 
 From cares of wealth and scenes of strife. 
 And build my cottage wucFe 
 
i34 
 
 Kind nature gives a cooling spring, 
 And merry birds wild anthems sing, 
 
 And flowers spontaneous there. 
 From sordid cares my mind would soar, 
 And trace the ways of God the more. 
 
 And swell his praises high ; 
 My wants bui few would be supplied, 
 Pd seek no more on earth beside, 
 
 But look beyond the sky. 
 Should winter blow his Bor'al storm, 
 I'd make my little cottage warm, 
 
 And gather round the fire ; 
 My babes would smile and prattle sweet, 
 My wife, myself, and all would meet* 
 
 In one harmonic choir. 
 I'd teach the infant mind to pray, 
 And point it to a brigher day, 
 
 Than transient suns can give; 
 IM join myself in holy song, 
 The praise of God I would prolong, 
 
 And thus I'd wish to hxc. 
 Should vernal suns expand the green. 
 And blooming beauties deck the scene, 
 
 I'd take the pleasant share ; 
 To cultivate a little soil, 
 And ?ce my labors and my to;J, 
 
 A welcome harvest bear. 
 
135 
 
 The world might pass me by with scorn^ 
 .Esteem me wretched and forlorn, 
 
 Not worthy of her train ; 
 She might not know I had a name, 
 Unless it were contempt and shame, 
 
 Erratic in the brain. 
 But why should I regard the world ? 
 With all her glories wide unfurPd, 
 
 And all her golden store? 
 She proffers more than she contains, 
 Her pleasures turn to grief and pains # 
 
 And satisfy no more. 
 Her noisy sons w r ho dash the street, 
 And scorn their equals when they meet, 
 
 Know not their danger nigh ; 
 But soon alas ! their race will end, • 
 And then without a heavenly friend, 
 
 How wretched must they die ! 
 But me, the giddy world knows not, 
 Obscurd within mj rural cot, 
 
 I have what nature ^ives; 
 For me the sun shines bright and clear. 
 For me refreshing rains appear, 
 
 For me the harvest lives. 
 I envy not the rich man's store, 
 I have his share and ten times morq 
 
 A heavenly peace within ; 
 
13G 
 
 My God in all his works I praise^ 
 
 To him my raptured soul 1 raise, 
 
 Above the world and sin. 
 
 THE POLAR STAR. 
 
 ALL hail ! thou midnight constant guide, 
 
 Thou steady polar star ; 
 The sailor on the stormy tide, 
 
 Salutes thee from afar. 
 
 When winds and billows lone: prevail. 
 
 And clouds of darkness rise, 
 Then sailors 1 art and courage fail, 
 
 Beneath inclement skies. 
 
 On boist'rous seas unfriendly tost, 
 
 The vessel runs astray ; 
 The oilot has his compass lost, 
 
 Nor knows the dang'rous way. 
 
 But when the clouds disperse and fly, 
 And heav^ grows calm and clear, 
 
 lie sees the? shining in the sky, 
 And bids farewell to fear. 
 
 His course direct, by thee he learns, 
 And seeks the destin'd strand ; 
 
137 
 
 The dangers of the deep discern^ 
 And finds his native land. 
 
 The lonely pilgrim as he strays, 
 
 Nor devious path can see, 
 May boldly tread the sylvan maze,. 
 
 And safely trust in thee. 
 
 But should the sky thick clouds resume^ 
 And hide thee from his si^ht, 
 
 He's lost ! and wanders in the gloom, 
 And wanders from the right. 
 
 Ah ! could we always see thee plain, 
 
 Nor clouds to interpose, 
 "We then could ride th N stormy maity 
 
 Nor fear the wind that blows. 
 
 But yonder shines a brighter bearn^ 
 Amid the throne of heav'n; 
 
 His blest illuminating: gleam, 
 Lights up the darkest eve'n* 
 
 While sailing on the tide of life, 
 
 The boisfrous billows roll, 
 The stormy winds of an cry strife, 
 
 Alarm the Hunting soul. 
 
 Sometimes how dark the hemisphere^. 
 How roll the seas below**- 
 
138 
 
 Hownuh the rocks of death appear* 
 How strong the tides of wo I 
 
 My vessel tost on distant seas, 
 Her sails are rip'd and torn ; 
 
 •fine reels before the stormy breeze, 
 And makes me pensive mourn.. 
 
 But all the dangers that arise, 
 Can't make me yet despair; 
 
 I see my pilot in the skies, 
 Who smiling, points me there. 
 
 This steady stur I keep in sight, 
 As on the wives I'm driv'n ; 
 
 The veering breeze may blow me righ^ 
 And land me safe in heav'n. 
 
 Then let me not so much complain, 
 A nd let me weep no more ; 
 
 This star directs across the main, 
 Towards a peaceful shore. 
 
 Prorations star' forever shine, 
 And oe'er withdraw from me; 
 
 Direct this devious course of mine, 
 O'er this tempestuous sea. 
 
 # ! lead me on to those bright plains, 
 Where my rich treasure lies ; 
 
139 
 
 Where saints immortal fbel no^pains^. 
 Nor tears bedew their eyes. 
 
 TH£ ROSE. 
 
 Within the garden there expands, 
 
 A blooming fragrant flower; 
 That captivates me, as it stands, 
 
 With its enchanting power. 
 Its modest grace and sweet perfume^. 
 
 So harmonize together, 
 Old Eden can't its tints nssume, 
 
 In lovely vernal weather! 
 
 Its sweet companions smile around, 
 
 And wave their proudest ui 
 But such a beauty can't be found, 
 
 In all the flow'iy borders. 
 Its dress is rich beyond compare, 
 
 Plain, humble, uuussumin/, 
 More beauteous than its kindred fair, 
 
 Mope od'rous, sweet and biooiuinj. 
 
 Kind nature hath on it imprest, 
 
 A rich perfume to lave it, 
 We long; remember it is blest, 
 
 Though winds annoy and waveil 
 
140 
 
 But O ! this sweet enchanting ros^ 
 Hdvv thick with thorns surrounded-* 
 
 I've tried to pluck it, as it grows, 
 But often have been wounded, 
 
 Jts thorns have pierced me to the sense. 
 
 Before I thought of danger, 
 And frequently inflict offence, 
 
 To the incautious stranger. 
 
 The full blown rose will fade away, 
 
 Its glory soon be blighted, 
 Its beauty wither and decay r 
 
 Not worthy to be plighted. 
 
 There is a rose of s weeter grace, 
 
 And ever more inviting, 
 It is the lovely female's face, 
 
 With all her charms delighting. 
 
 This lovely, cantivatin ; form, 
 The raptur'd soul surprises; 
 
 The stoic heart, her features warm^ 
 While strange attachment rises. 
 
 Here virtue,' beauty, grace conjoin'd 5 
 
 In ev'ry blooming f ature, 
 How tender, sweet and well refin'd, 
 
 Infatuating creature! 
 po jewel half io '>riz'd 1 s«e, 
 
 The best and richest treasure. 
 
141 
 
 A faithful friend she's prov'd to me; 
 I'he meed of human pleasure. 
 
 But O !* that bloom may soon decay, 
 With clouds be overshaded, 
 
 I would lament the ruthless day, 
 That saw her scaith'd and faded. 
 
 But should the bloom in virtue shine, 
 
 I always will remember, ' 
 That tender friend — I call her mine, 
 
 In frosts of bleak December. 
 
 *Tis virtue that will never fade > 
 Let virtue's robes adorn her, 
 
 ] then will love her in the shade, 
 And will not, cannot scorn her, 
 
 A DIRGE. 
 
 LORD what am I ? Ah who can say? 
 A man ! a worm ! a cldd of clay 1 
 
 Ingenious form, of wond'rous birth, 
 Of high degree, a child of earth. 
 Corrupted matter, low confin'd, 
 Possess'd of spirit closely join'd, 
 Jmpoverish'd reptile, drown'd in woes, 
 Without a friend — pursued by foes. 
 My life how like the gliding stream, 
 Or like the nightly vanish'd dream ; 
 
My tansient day is nothing more 5 
 Than bubbles bursting on the shore, 
 The ocean's towry billows rise, 
 And seem to climb amid the skies, 
 But soon they sink and roll away, 
 Not coexistent with the day. 
 So would I vainly place my seat, 
 That man should move beneath my feet y 
 But soon aias ! I must descend, 
 Where dust enfolds our earthly end. 
 But tho' I have short time to stay, 
 In this imprisoned tent of clay, 
 I have a mind — that mind can trace 
 Beyond the grave, a boundless space. 
 This reasoning sense, a part divine, 
 Death can't destroy, nor grave confine, 
 That speaks a God, proclaims an hour, 
 "When d'eath shall loose his tyrant pow 5 r< 
 I feel within, a lucid ray, 
 Thit opes to me eternal day, 
 An ardent sense to grasp a prize, 
 Not found where earthly treasure lies, 
 I will forsake those swarms that play, 
 Like floating gnats on summer's day. 
 That skim along like butterflies, 
 And fall unfledg'd with sad surprise 
 
143 
 
 i claim no kin to their gay race, 
 
 I count their pride my low disgrace, 
 
 Their wealth their pleasure and their fame, 
 
 Are flitting shades — an empty name. 
 
 I claim my kindred, not with earth, 
 
 And none but those of heavenly birth ; 
 
 No hoards I seek of golden oar, 
 
 But look for treasures valued more. 
 
 This earth can't long confine me here, 
 
 I'll bid farewell without a tear 
 
 To all her cares, and mouut the skies, 
 
 And sieze my lov'd immortal prize. 
 
 A THOUGHT ON WAR. 
 LIKE mighty storms of winter's sky, 
 
 Descending from the hills, 
 That rake destruction as they fly, 
 
 And sweep the tremblingrrills. 
 
 So war with his attendant host 
 
 Aproximates the field, 
 There champion chiefs their courage boast 3 
 
 Nor will the contest yield. 
 
 They c,-ive command and rush amain, 
 
 The soldiers bleed around, 
 And countless numbers lick the plain : 
 
 And bleed upon the ground- 
 
144 
 
 When foaming streams together meet. 
 
 And toss their surges high. 
 When on the rocky shallows beat, 
 
 The rooted forests die. 
 So chief with chief, and man with man ? 
 
 In battle's dread affright, 
 Commix and rage, and kill who can, 
 
 And heap the bloody sight. 
 
 From wing to wing the carnage runs, 
 
 No hiding place is near, 
 Wide wasting death, in cannon gun9, 
 
 In sword, in dart and spear. 
 
 A thousand thunders shake the sky, 
 
 The frighted clouds look pale, 
 A thousand heroes gasp and die, 
 
 And blanch upon the vale. 
 Promiscuous slaughter raves along, 
 
 And thins the rank and file, 
 How soon alas! he wastes the throng, 
 
 And heaps the reeking soil. 
 
 Relations, friends and brothers dear, 
 
 In murd'rous conflict meet, 
 And stain with blood the polish'd spear ; 
 
 And die at other's feet. 
 Let ocean break divine decrees, 
 
 And whelm the guilty shore:. 
 
145 
 
 Let pestilence the cities siege, 
 And slay a thousand more. 
 
 Let earthquakes shake the distant strand, 
 
 And wide dispart the earth ; 
 Alarm the nations as they stand, 
 
 And stop their guilty mirth . 
 
 Let famine rage along the plain, 
 
 And waste our wicked race, 
 Let glutton'd monarchs feel the pain, 
 
 And wear a haggard face. 
 
 And should our crimes yet more inflame, 
 
 O Lord thy dreadful ire, 
 Then teach us all our guilt and shame, 
 
 By mildews, blasts and fire. 
 
 These are thy scourges Lord we know, 
 
 To humble human pride, 
 But stay thy hand, nor strike the blow, 
 
 And better things provide. 
 
 But war, with his attendant woes, 
 
 Is not from thee, divine, 
 From hellish passions he arose, 
 
 And no descent of thine. 
 
 Let nations know the gospel strain 
 And hear the Saviour's lore ; 
 G 
 
i4tf 
 
 Let them the christian cause maintain. 
 And war shall be no more. 
 
 Let swords be made to plough the field. 
 And spears to sickles turn ; 
 
 O may the world to Jesus yield, 
 And his example learn. 
 
 THE VERNAL SEASON. 
 
 FAREWELL thou stormy rig'rous blast./ 
 Your gloomy horrors now are past, 
 And all ycur frowns seren'd at last, 
 
 By smiles of lovely spring. 
 From orient realms the vernal sun, 
 Appears again — the prize is won, 
 His cheerful beams reviving run, 
 
 And make creation sing. 
 
 The torpid insects move again, 
 Forget the gripe of winter's chain. 
 And scatter o'er the smiling plain. 
 
 And tell their modes of joy ; 
 A thousand notes of music sweet, 
 Resound aloud from each retreat,. 
 With one accord the songsters meet, 
 
 And all their tongues employ. 
 
147 
 
 The savage beasts of fiercer flame. 
 The herds and flocks of ev'ry namc 5 
 Their vanousjoys aloud proclaim, 
 
 While sounding anthem? swell ; 
 The far sequestered forests join, 
 The heaths and meadows all combine, 
 And sound aloud the hymn divine, 
 
 The God of nature tell. 
 
 Unnumbered charms attract the sight, 
 The purple, blue and spotless white, 
 That dress all nature with delight ; 
 
 Inflame my ravish'd soul ; 
 The umbrage of the distant trees, 
 The pinks awaken'd by the breeze, 
 The blushing rose well form'd to please. 
 
 My senses sweet control. 
 
 The Orchards smile in fragrant bloom, 
 The desert wastes their ilowers assume, 
 And wanton zephyrs waft perfume, 
 
 Along the passing air; 
 The'lofty mountains ope their green, 
 The low sunk vales that lie between. 
 Put on the beauty of the scene, 
 
 And wave enchantment there- 
 Let stoic hearts conjoin to sing, 
 The parent of returning spring. 
 
14^ 
 
 A.nd mount on soft celestial wing. 
 
 Above tiiis earthly clod ; 
 Let nature teach their souls to rai 
 Unceasing thanks and songs of praise 
 And mingle in harmonic lays, 
 
 To their Creator God. 
 
 This scene how like the vernal years. 
 When youth in every face appears, 
 And nought to start the trickling tears. 
 
 Nor cause the rising sigh ; 
 The rapt'rous prospects wide extend, 
 While hope and joy each other blend. 
 The flatter'd youth descries no end, 
 
 And thinks no blasts are nigh. 
 
 Remember that the rose will fade, 
 And all the beauty of the glade, 
 With all the foilage of the shade, 
 
 Shall droop and die again; 
 So may the fondest blooming face. 
 The object of an am'rous race, 
 Soon wither into cold disgrace, 
 
 And leave the heart in pain. 
 
 Temptations hnunt the female's way, 
 By chance the fondest passions may* 
 Allure to danger, quite astray, 
 outh be well aware : 
 
149 
 
 Be modest, virtuous — ever try, 
 Trust not the fancy of your eye, 
 Lest from your heart your comfort fly, 
 And leave a sorrow there. 
 
 Behold the time is drawing near, 
 When transient charms shall disappear, 
 Again all nature shall be drear, 
 
 And chaunt no more to 3-ou ; 
 Endure a chaste and virtuous toil, 
 Enjoy the season with a smile, 
 \nd take a large immortal spoil, 
 
 For that shall be your due. 
 
 AN EVENING THOUGHT 
 THE vernal season bloom'd around, 
 
 The sky was clear and mild, 
 I mus'd upon the scene profound, 
 
 Without a thought defil'd. 
 
 The fainting sun declin'd my view. 
 
 Low sunken in the west, 
 His golden beams through ether flew, 
 
 And charmed my thinking breast. 
 
 Calm may my moments roll away, 
 And not a crime be seen. 
 
150 
 
 rfor darkening; clouds conclude my day. 
 Nor tempests intervene. 
 
 And when this life on earth shall end. 
 And day shall close in night; 
 
 Then may my soul to heaven ascend, 
 To hail supernal light. 
 
 Then can my friends in raptures say, 
 
 The pilgrim's gone to rest, 
 He's winged along his airj- way. 
 
 To be forever blest. 
 
 THOUGHTS ON RETIREMENT 
 
 could I find some distant spot, 
 t Amid wild nature's bowers, 
 
 'Tisthere I'd build my humble cot. 
 And spend remaining hours. 
 
 1 need not then forget to sleep, 
 
 Nor should my soul repine. 
 For cruel wrongs I need not weep. 
 Nor blush for deeds not mine. 
 
 The richest man I'd envy not, . 
 
 With all his silken pride, 
 I'd pitiy his unhappy lot, 
 
 With servants at his side. 
 
15* 
 
 His gold, his purple and his lace, 
 
 And all his pompous store, 
 Will run him through an airy race, 
 
 And leave him wretched, poor. 
 
 I want my portion, not of dross, 
 
 Nor outward gaudy show, 
 What this proud world esteems but loss- 
 
 And melancholy, wo. 
 
 A golden treasure safe in heaven, 
 
 A crown of glory there, 
 The crimes committed be forgiven, 
 
 My Saviour's image bear. 
 
 AN APOSTROPHE TO THE EVENING STAR 
 LET me admire yon evening star, 
 
 Bright beaming in the west, 
 He rides on his etherial car, 
 
 To light the world to rest. 
 
 The murmurs of the distant stream. 
 
 Come rolling on the ear, 
 While glances of his silv'ry beam. 
 
 Around the groves appear. 
 
 Alas ! how short, though blest his 6£ay. ; 
 With this our drearv world. 
 
1 5- 
 
 His welcome hours roll fast aw^j > 
 How soon in darkness furl'd. 
 
 Farewell, if thou must hasty go, 
 
 And leave me here alone, 
 Cease not to shine on trav'lers low, 
 
 And cheer them when they groan. 
 
 Transcendant light ! thou heavenly beam- 
 Now on my soul arise, 
 
 And wake me from my fairy dream, 
 And brighten round my skies. 
 
 O never roll thyself away, 
 
 But shine forever clear. 
 That I may walk in cloudless day, 
 
 And loose my nightly fear. 
 
 THE WONDERS OF CREATION. 
 I'LL sing aloud creation's wonders, 
 
 And praise my G od in every lay, 
 And speak of lightnings, roaring thunders- 
 
 That fill the heart with dread disnuyy. 
 O stop ye vain, and look around you, 
 
 Behold the blackness of the sky, 
 The terrorsofa God confound you, 
 
 As raving whirlwinds pass you by 
 
153 
 
 All nature quakes at death so nigh her 
 
 And tremble- at the steps of God; 
 Electric matter dashes tire, 
 
 And mountains shudder at his nod. 
 Great hail storms from the clouds descending, 
 
 Fall rapid on the trembling ground, 
 Strong trees before the tempest bending, 
 
 Groan sadly with the dismal sound. 
 
 Now let me trace the starry regions. 
 
 When sable clouds are roll'd awa\ . 
 Astonished see the shining legions, 
 
 Irradiate the close of day. 
 I see the orbs of lucid glory, 
 
 Roll swift along the realms of ni i 
 But who can tell their mystic sua'; 
 
 Or trace their far etherial flight. 
 
 Imagination's highest flying, 
 
 Can neVer bound the ample place, 
 Where those revolving globes are v 
 
 In tracts of wide eternal space. 
 The moon in lunar blaze advances, 
 
 And climbs the firmament on In 
 While every star in glory dances, 
 
 Far round the vast extended sk}\ 
 
 The sun appears in brighter blazes. 
 pours his floods of light arou 
 G 2 
 
154 
 
 He rolls along his louder praise^ 
 
 Nor once forgets the song profound. 
 His presence cheers the earth with gladness 
 
 And all the nations hail him near ; 
 Before him flics chaotic sadness, 
 
 And sable spectres disappear. 
 I now will view the earth around mc , 
 
 And see th' extended scene below ; 
 Here wonders rising still astound me. 
 
 Where rivers, seas and fountains flow. 
 There lies the great expansive ocean, 
 
 Old mother of the distant spring, 
 Xlais'd into high tremendous motion, 
 
 13;. Neptune's wide encircling wing 
 The river's far sequestered sources, 
 
 Unceasing search the distant main, 
 Thro' rugged mountains burst their courses. 
 
 Nor once attempt to start in vain ; 
 Through fertile vales they often wander, 
 
 In lonely deserts push their way ; ' 
 'Tis on their banks I often ponder, 
 
 Upon life's swift descending day. 
 raron the lofty mountain's bower. 
 
 I have beheld the distant scene. 
 rhe marks of a creative power, 
 
The far projected rocks ascending-. 
 
 Sublimely fill the roving eye ; 
 The ruder steeps around extending, 
 
 Seem lost amidst the azure sky. 
 Far off I see the rural village, 
 
 And wide surrounding meadows there 
 The fertile vallies smile with tillage, 
 
 And waving harvests richly bear ; 
 Methinks I see the rustic smiling, 
 
 While ruddy milk maids pass along . 
 O would they in their daily toiling, 
 
 Ascribe to God their constant soner. 
 
 A PRAYER IiN TROUBLE 
 I LONG to rise and soar away, 
 
 And leave distress behind ; 
 O would those clouds that make me stray 
 
 Forsake this troubled mind. 
 O would the sun once more arise, 
 
 And shine forever bright, 
 That I might wipe my weeping ey 
 
 And bid farewell to night. 
 Iod long alas! I've been eppr 
 
 With sorrow. grief and siD^ 
 
15t) 
 
 And none but Christ can make m< 
 
 Or give me peace within. 
 "Tis fur his sake Vd leave all tilings. 
 
 Upon this earthly sphere, 
 O had I but celestial wing-.-, 
 
 I'd soon with him appear, 
 
 ODE ON THE PRIMEVAL 
 MY riutTing fancy flies along, 
 
 O'er all the wide creation,' 
 The ard'ous flight she would pre' 
 
 See each and ev'ry nation ; 
 View golden day- sung, 
 
 When harmony abounded, 
 And man and Eden were but young. 
 
 And vocal praise resounded. 
 
 She there would pause and look around. 
 
 To see the plains extended, 
 And hark to hear the song profound. 
 
 Of ev'ry creature blended. 
 Along the margin of the glade, 
 
 Were copious rivers gliding, 
 Promiscuous flocks beneath the shade, 
 
 In mutual bliss abiding;. 
 
167 
 
 The elements of nature slept, 
 
 Nor heard were storms and thur, 
 No man had ever sigh-d or wept, 
 
 Nor caus'd to quake and wonder. . 
 Young zephyrs gently fan'd the rose, 
 
 And played along the bow'rs, 
 Transporting joys unmixed with woes, 
 
 R-efreshed the cheerful hours. 
 
 She there beholds all men unite, 
 
 No rumors heard among them, 
 The law of love was law of right, 
 
 Nor conscious guilt had stung them 
 Propitious nature gave them bread, 
 
 She gave them milk and honey, 
 With liberal hand each one was fed, 
 
 Without the aid of money. 
 
 No blood had stain'd their harmless hands 
 
 Unknown were wars and plunder, . 
 No foe had found their peaceful lands, 
 
 To cut. their cords asunder ; 
 Shepherds and swains in conceit meet, 
 
 To tune the Edenian lyre, 
 
 ins and pnaids each other greet, 
 
 And join the gleeful choir. 
 Their festivals were crown'd with joy, 
 
 Ail ]• id ai 
 
153 
 
 a cnousand tongues the song employ, 
 Far distant from commotion ; 
 
 No changing clime had yet been seen, 
 Nor elevated mountains, 
 
 The vocal plains were ever green, 
 Refresh'd.by cooling fountains. 
 
 Long liv'd those sons in Eden born, 
 
 No foul disease annoyed them,. 
 No hapless child was found forlorn, 
 
 Nor pestilence destroyed them ; 
 A thousand years were as a day — 
 
 A day of purest pleasure, 
 The sky serene — it roll'd away, 
 
 And crown'd their earthly treasure. 
 
 THE ALLUREMENTS OF THE WORLD 
 FORSAKEN. 
 KIND heaven command my soul away, 
 
 From all sublunar things, 
 Nor let me make a moment's stay, 
 Beneath a seraph's wings. 
 
 I've seen the world unfold her arms, 
 And spread her smiles around, 
 
 Rut anguish broods beneath her charms- 
 And hidden tears abound. 
 
159 
 
 ahe bears a cup of fancied joy?. 
 
 And dances as she goes ; 
 The sons of folly she decoys, 
 
 And leaves them drown'd in woes 
 
 let me fly from her below, 
 And seek my constant rest, 
 
 Where tranquil joys serenely flow? 
 In heav'rlly grace possess'd. 
 
 Let me arise above the fame, 
 
 Of riches and renown, 
 Above an earthly monarches name, 
 
 To an immortal crown. 
 
 Mj soul from all pollution clean. 
 
 Shall soar above the world,, 
 Tho' at me all her arrows lean, 
 
 With all her rage unfurl'd. 
 
 Let me from all her haunts retreat, 
 Her dazzling charms forbear, 
 
 Nor may the wandrings of my fact. 
 Be found familiar there. 
 
 1 sing farewell to friendship here, 
 To all the world's delight; 
 
 Her proudest glories disappear, 
 And close in endless niffht. 
 
ODE TO SPRING, 
 HAIL thou lovely vernal season. 
 
 Welcome to this cheerless earth, 
 Welcome to our sense and reason, 
 
 Parent of reviving birth. 
 Earth is full of music sounding, 
 
 Nature smiles in blushing grace, 
 U thy presence swarms abounding, 
 
 Singing in their new born race. 
 
 Now the groves and distant mountains, 
 
 Ope their umbrage to the day, 
 On the meads along the fountains, 
 
 Bleating lambkins frisk and play. 
 Wint'ry storms have ceas-d their blowing 
 
 Gentle breezes fan the sky, 
 Birds are singing, herds are lowing, 
 
 Hungry beasts forget to sigh. 
 
 Morning zephyrs wake the roses, 
 
 Sweet flow'rs dress the vales below, 
 On the lawn the swain reposes, 
 
 Hears the brooks in murmurs flow ; 
 Larks awake our morning slumbers, 
 
 With an early song of praise, 
 Vocal groves with various numbers 
 
 Fill the eartb with tuneful k\x?. 
 
161 
 
 Come on ye mild refreshing showers, 
 
 Swell the bosom of the earth, 
 Wake up the vegitative ppwers, 
 
 Let them have a fruitful birth ; 
 O let me see the orchards blooming, 
 
 Rustics healthy plough the green, 
 The milk maid unassuming, 
 
 Pensive moving o'er the scene. 
 
 Wake up the heart and tune the lyre, 
 
 Sing an anthem to the sky, 
 Let male and female form the choir, 
 
 Raise seraphic music hi:;h ; 
 Join the song ye pensive, fearful, 
 
 Sound it up to God in heaven, 
 Let the soul be always cheerful, 
 
 Always tranquil, smooth and even. 
 \»/\«^ 
 
 AN APOSTROPHE TO THE MOON 
 O MOON! arise fair nymph of heav'n. 
 
 Unveil thy lovely face, 
 Shine o'er the hills, light up the eve'n, 
 
 Nor stay thy welcome race. 
 
 Thou comest forth a blushing maid, 
 All mantled o'er with gold, 
 
 Before thee flies the misty shade, 
 And clouds are from thee roll'd 
 
162 
 
 Thy golden beams are hail'd with joy, 
 
 Among the woodmen here, 
 The lonely shepherd and his boy, 
 
 With new strung harps appear". 
 The smiling hills and mountains e;low, 
 
 With glancing dew-drops bright, 
 The babbling brooks with pleasure flow, 
 
 Along the silent night, 
 I've seen thy twinkling beams, 
 
 Along the darksome shade, 
 Then rais'd alone, a solemn song, 
 
 And nightly fears were laid. 
 But in one night of solemn toll, 
 
 Thy face shall blush in blood, 
 And from thy orbit thou shalt roll, 
 
 Far through a fiery flood! 
 Thy deep blue shall then be lost, 
 
 Thy disk no more shall glow, 
 Thyself in wrecks of matter tost, 
 
 Shall to that ruin go I 
 But now thou dost in splendor ride. 
 
 In thy etherial car, 
 Expand thy smiles of gladness wide. 
 
 And send thy glories far. 
 Disperse your clouds ye winds that blow, 
 
 And 1st this maid of night, 
 
163 
 
 In full effulgence blaze below, 
 And give the shades her light. 
 
 So may my clouds of error fly, 
 Aud light within arise, 
 
 That I may fetr no danger nigh, 
 Beneath my cloudless skies. 
 
 THE WOPXD TURNED PEACOCK. 
 AMONG domestic fowls I see, 
 What e'er his name or nature be, 
 He is a fop, I answer thee, 
 
 And loves to show his feathers ; 
 When vernal suns serene the skies, 
 He struts about and proudly trie?, 
 To shew his graces to our eyes, 
 
 And looks disdain on others. 
 1 grant 'tis beauty there we find, 
 In that long train he drags behind, 
 He looks quite gay and well refin'd. 
 
 No other half so gaudy ; 
 He wide expands his plumage round, 
 Where azure, gold and blue abound, 
 He vainly treads along the ground, 
 
 Craves praise from every body ! 
 But this vain fowl of which we boast,. 
 Qf all the fowls the public toast. 
 
164 
 
 Is not often used to Vroil or roast. 
 
 Nor ever worth his feeding ; 
 His plumage lasts not half the year, 
 When that may chance to disappear. 
 He looks quite shabby full of fear, 
 
 And indicates low breeding. 
 He makes no music when he sings, 
 He cannot fly with mifledg'd wings. 
 No profit to the public brings, 
 
 His pageantry has faded ; 
 He's nothing left our note to gain, 
 We all rejoin and now disdain, 
 The fowl so proud and once so vain, 
 
 And now so just degraded. 
 Thus the vain world with all her beaux, 
 Whendress'd in ribbons and fine clothes. 
 Her beauty and her grandeur shoM s, 
 
 Disdaining all below her; ' 
 Too much engaged to look ahead, 
 She turns and struts where she may tread. 
 Her trimmings all to public spread, 
 
 She wishes all to know her. 
 Her sweet perfume and curled hair, 
 Her silks, and bows, and ribbons there. 
 Behold the sight ! who can forbear, 
 
 To love and run and take her ! 
 
166 
 
 Mic dazzles in her plumage gftjj 
 She turns her beauties to the da} , 
 Ynd struts along the public way, 
 
 Ah ! who could well forsake her. 
 She now assumes a sword in hand, 
 Turns gen'ral giving loud command, 
 Stands head of the surrounding band, 
 
 While thousands round adore her; 
 Herepauletts and buttons blaze, 
 She now achieves in martial ways. 
 The universal public gaze, 
 
 That flashes far before her. 
 She oft turns merchant and declares, 
 Superior worth in all her wares, 
 The giddy youth turns round and stares, 
 
 And sees them all so pretty ; 
 'Tis there she flatters — often lies, 
 Deceives the vain, offends the wise, 
 And hides the faults from him that buys, 
 
 Talk3 pleasantly and witty. 
 She's a coquette in every art, 
 She shows at first the better part, 
 And charms the vain deluded hear i 
 
 And brings him on to love her ; 
 I sec each sex and every age, 
 hi warm attachment all engage, 
 
Run after her with equal rage 3 
 
 Determin'd all to prove her. 
 She courted me with luring charms, 
 I fell within her closing arms, 
 My thirst allay'd— I felt alarms, 
 
 I wanted then to leave her ; 
 Again she clasp'd me to her breast, 
 And said she'd make me further blest. 
 Remove my fears, and give me rest, 
 
 But I would not believe her. 
 I broke her gold ensnaring chain. 
 And turn'd from her with strong disdain. 
 Resolve'd to love her not again, 
 
 Nor hear her voice enchanting- ; 
 I set my heart above her name, 
 Despis'd her with contempt and shame. 
 And now for high immortal fame. 
 
 My soul is ardent panting'. 
 
 BIGOTRY REPROVED. 
 A horrid thing pervades the land, 
 The priests and prophets in a band, 
 
 (CaiPd by the name of preacher* 
 Direct the superstitious mind, 
 What man shall do his God to find. 
 
 T T^ must obev hi« teachers 
 
167 
 
 otiose leaders cliff 1 ring in their mode— - 
 Each traveling in a different road, 
 
 Create a sad division ; 
 Each one believes he must be right, 
 And vents at others all his spite, 
 
 Contemns them with derision. 
 Their prosolytes around them wait, 
 To hear them preach, and pray and prate, 
 
 And tell their growing numbers ; 
 They love to hear their preachers tell, 
 The adverse sects will go to hell, 
 
 All laid in guilt and slumbers. 
 Each party has its special rules, 
 BorrowVi from Bishops Popes and schools* 
 
 And thinks them best of any ; 
 And yet they change to suit the time?. 
 And differ in the different climes, 
 
 To catch the passing penny. 
 They are directed to obey, 
 And never tread another way, 
 
 All others are deceivers ; 
 All those who do dissent from this, 
 Are not within the road to bliss. 
 
 Nor can be true believers. 
 Some thousands thus are dup'd and led, 
 By prejudice and priestcraft fed. 
 
 Who love to hold contention ; 
 
168 
 
 Their old confessions they defend, • 
 For human rules do strong contend. 
 
 The ground of much dissention. 
 Is this religion? God forbid, 
 The light within this cloud is hid, 
 
 My soul be not deceived ; 
 The Great Redeemer never told 
 The priests to separate his Fold, 
 
 ' And this I've long believed. 
 I love religion — do declare, 
 That peace and love are ever there. 
 
 And universal kindness; 
 The Bible is my rule for this, 
 It points me to eternal bliss, 
 
 Dispels Sectarian blindness. 
 Let christians now unite and say, 
 We'll throw all human rules away, 
 
 And take God's word to rule us ; 
 King Jesus shall our leader be, 
 And jn his name w.e will agree, 
 
 The priests no more shall fool us. 
 
 V/ \', 
 
 WOMAN. 
 
 THE richest blessing man can find. 
 
 On all the earth below, 
 Is woman, faithful, true and kind 
 
 Blest soother of our w." 
 
169 
 
 When elements of nature rise, 
 
 An 1 threaten to devour, 
 She, like an angel of the skies, 
 Bespeaks a niilder hour. 
 
 When fortune frowns and we're distfess'd, 
 
 And thousand sorrow? swell, 
 Hkr mild caresses make us blest, 
 
 We think that all is well. 
 
 In distant lands where strangers are 
 
 Unkind, and cruel too, 
 She shows the same affection there, 
 
 A tender heart and true. 
 
 She feels the weight of all our sighs, 
 And all our groans she hear?, 
 
 ies oft with weeping eves, 
 IS or spares her streaming te»rs. 
 
 When sickness makes our spirits faint, 
 
 We languish and deplore, 
 Her fondling smiles ease all -complaint} 
 
 And we repine no more. 
 
 When melancholy fills the heart, 
 
 And darkens all the day, 
 She has the pleasing sov'reign art, 
 
 To drive it all away. 
 H 
 
pure gold without her is but dro$ 
 For gold has never bless'd, 
 
 She is the crown of every loss. 
 The richest crown pos=ess*d*- 
 
 AN ELEGY, 
 On the death of Mrs. Diana Gowdy, ofXenu 
 Ohio, daughter of John and Elizabeth Mor 
 gan, of Shenandoah county, Va. ivho depart 
 ed this life \Qth October, 1827, in hope of i 
 happy immortality. Aged about 27 years. 
 O ! HELP me muse, to sing that worthy name. 
 And give her virtues to immortal fame, 
 That generations yet unborn may read : 
 The female graces all in her agreed. 
 
 In infant years she was her parents' pride, 
 No child so comely, nor so lov-d beside, 
 Her form, her beauty., and her nat'ral grace, 
 Were mostly perfect of the female race. 
 Kind nature dresther for her fairest child, 
 Beheld her kindling charms and fondly smil'd ; 
 She stored the "virtues in her youthful breast, 
 And seemM content that she was thus possess'd-; 
 
 She was accomplished with politest mien. 
 In all her movements ciegance was seen. 
 
1?1 
 
 Her modest worth and cultivated mind, 
 Bespoke her plainly, polish'd and refin'do 
 As flowing lillies, and the opening rose, 
 Expand their blushes when the zephyr blows, 
 And pour their charming beauties on the sight, 
 And give the raptur'd soul supreme delight, ; 
 So were a thousand charms upon her plac'd, 
 None were so beauteous — so supremely grae'd ; 
 She was the pride and toast of all the fair, 
 And all delighted in her presence there. 
 
 She was not careless of that better part, 
 That lifts the soul and purifies the heart, 
 She learn'd her Saviour, and his laws obey'd^ 
 And safe in heaven her future hope she laid; 
 Her soul was pious, innocent and mild, 
 To heaven related, nor by earth beguiled. 
 
 In her full bloom arriv'd her bridal day, 
 Her consort hVd in regions far away, 
 Few days were passM, she left her native land^ A 
 And took her distant home where Xenia stands. 
 
 She grae'd the station of a virtuous wife, 
 And hVd remote from vanity and strife ; 
 With gen'roushand she often blest the poor, 
 Who sought a pittance at her parlor door, 
 Her name was honored, and her name was dear, 
 A+A eaunded sweet to every list'ning ear, 
 
172 
 
 She was too good on earth to be contm'ti^ 
 Her soul was fit with angels to be join'd. 
 
 Her bridal years were few — they roll'd away. 
 And brought distress, a mournful weeping day ; 
 Stern death anproach'd, & in his arms she slept. 
 Her husband, friends, & distant stranrerswept ; 
 She left a husband drown 1 d in flowing; tears, 
 And solemn gloom 'mong num'rous friends ap- j 
 
 pears ; 
 No time nor place, can wipe away the grief, 
 That bursted from their hearts without relief. 
 O! dreadful day! that saw her buried deep 
 In silent dust! how did spectators weep ; 
 And while their streaming tears fell from their 
 
 eyes, 
 Her soul ascended to the upper skies. 
 
 What anguish wrung her tender parents' 
 breasts, 
 When first they heard, "m dust Diana rests ;" 
 Their house was fill'd with mourning and with 
 
 gloom, 
 Far from Diana's sacred honor'd tomb! 
 Could they have wept around her dying bed. 
 Could they have seen her lying pale and dead, 
 Could they have walk'd the solemn fun'ral step, 
 And seen the spot where their Diana slept! 
 They could have borne their grief with less dis- 
 
 pair, 
 
175 
 
 io bid farewell to dear Diana there! 
 
 She calmly died, her eyes were clos'd in 
 peace, 
 And all her sorrows in one moment cease; 
 The angels met her at death's iron door, 
 And safeconvey'd her to the heavenly shore! 
 Methinks she mounted on celestial wines, 
 And there with christians & with seraphs sings! 
 Why weep, ye parents? Your Diana stands, 
 EnroiiM in dory in celestial lands ; 
 Your child has left a painful world below, 
 And found a land where living pleasures flow. 
 
 No fell disease to fade her beauty there, 
 No parting pains, nor world's distrcssinc: care, 
 She dwells in peace — o'er tyrant death she 
 
 reigns, 
 And wears her crown in heaven's supernal 
 
 plains. 
 
 DESCRIPTION OF NIGHT. 
 
 HOW dull, how dark, how sable is the night, 
 She's hid creation from my raptur'd sight, 
 Horrific clouds come rolling round the sky, 
 And on the hills in tow'rinjj columns lie! 
 The listant vale i- wra i] "d in silent gloom, 
 W 7 here darkling birds their boding notes resume, 
 
174 
 
 ISo twinkling star thro' opening clouds appears, 
 Nor brighter moon to banish nightly fears,' 
 But winds loud howling in the mountain far, 
 Pcush on amain in their ether'al car; 
 A sullen breeze drives wide the cottage door, 
 And warns the owner to prepare for more. 
 The valley stream slow murmuc&to the ear, 
 But murmursinournful as the breezes veer. 
 
 From yon lone tree,not distant from the grave, 
 "Where lie the wise, the coward and the brave, 
 I hear the owl long hooting o'er the dead, 
 Along the place where ghostly shadows sped ! 
 Far distant, where the lonely cottage stands, 
 Beside the gurgling brook, in wilder'd lands, 
 The howling dog is heard — the echoes mourn. 
 And on the quivering breeze are distant borne. 
 
 The stag lies snuffing on the mountain side, 
 The timid hind, his faithful, bouncing bride, 
 Becomes alar-m'd but hears the breezes pass 
 His spiry horns — then nips the mossy grass. 
 The bounding roe is in the rocky cleft, 
 In nightly slumbers he is lonely left; 
 The heath cock's head is hid beneath his wing, 
 The woody warblers have forgot to sing. 
 The fearless beast9 and all the merry birds, 
 Haye sought retreat, and the domestic herds. 
 
11 s 
 
 •So sounds concordant in the passing arr, 
 The owl's loud hoots, are only wafted there ; 
 Or yelling wolf along the cottage way, 
 Or barking fox who seeks his nightly prey. 
 
 The lonely stranger in the desert wide, 
 Has lost his way, and knows not where to 
 
 guide ; 
 Thro' shrubs and thorns, a devious course he 
 
 bends, 
 In miry bogs, in winding rills descends ; 
 He fears to tread, he fears the ghosts of night, 
 He trembling goes, but wanders from the right. 
 The old trees groan along the silent ground. 
 And passing goblins whisper in the sound ! 
 Alas I he tries, but tries in vain to know, 
 Where he should find a safer path to go ; 
 He finds no friend to lend him timely aid, 
 But sinks in death amid the gloomy shade! 
 
 So would the prodigal with flowing eyes, 
 With lifted hands and penitential cries, 
 Deplore his wayward course so eager run, 
 But now so wretched — nought but mis'ry won. 
 
 My friends receive the pilgrim for the night, 
 Solace his sorrows till the morning light, 
 And when his journey and his days shall close, 
 Q /ray no fears disturb his last repose.. 
 
176 
 
 A REFLECTION ON READING HISTORY 
 
 THE biasing sun in rapid haste, 
 
 Conveys the time away, 
 And so the ancient ages waste, 
 
 And splendid works decay. 
 
 I've read of ancient cruel war, 
 
 That wakens up my soul, 
 I see the tide of blood afar, 
 
 And seas of crimson roll. 
 
 What nave my ancient fathers done* 
 
 How have the sages fled ! 
 The} fell m battles lost or won, 
 
 All mingled with the dead. 
 
 The lofty spires and towers they made, 
 
 The grandeur of a day, 
 Ar c -ong a^o in rubbish laid, 
 
 Like shadow's fled away. 
 
 The r.rou 'est kings who nations sway'd a 
 Have fallc i from the <hrone, 
 
 Death called them to his lonely shade, 
 And made their power his own. 
 
 What is all this nomn I see? 
 
 This grasp for human power? 
 A pomp of nothing! and 'twill flee., 
 
 In tne ensuing hour, 
 
177 
 
 How long in dust my fathers sleeps 
 
 I soon must follow there ; 
 Those eyes shall then forget to weep, 
 
 And all those tears forbear. 
 
 AN ELEGY, 
 
 On the death of Mrs. Nesmith, who departed 
 this life May l#22« 
 
 SOME'poets choose the names of noble birth ^ 
 To sound their fame far thro' the list'ning earth, 
 And tell they conquered or they rul'd a throne, 
 While trembling thousands their dominion own. 
 
 But I will sing a name in earth remote 3 
 (O for po'etic fire to touch my note) 
 And tell the virtue and the grace that lie. 
 Concealed from notice of the public eye. 
 An a^ed female, youthful once and gaj , 
 That bloom'd as roses in the vernal day ; 
 Her youth she spent in fashion's flowry road, 
 Perhaps forgetful of herself and God ! 
 
 She early wedded to a man unknown 
 To smiling fortune, or to high renown, 
 Became obscure and by the world oppres 
 By hard misfortune and by sin distressed : 
 4Trr worldly prospects from her cottage fled 
 112 
 
Like nootwlay shadows, all her pleasures 
 And. left her hopeless in the world below, 
 To drink unmixed the cup of human woe. 
 
 She found this life a burden hard to bear. 
 And night had sunk in clouds of dark despair ; 
 But O, that God who rules in worlds on high, 
 Loud bade her stop, for she should never di r : 
 That word from heaven like ten- fold thunders 
 
 roll, 
 Addressed the sorrows of her sinking soul : 
 a Long hast thou lingered on this weeping rale, 
 Where grief abounds and thy life's comforts 
 
 fail; 
 But hast thou notsinn'd and sinn'd a thousand 
 
 ways — 
 Withheld from God thy service and thy prai-e?- 
 Dost thou not fear to stand before his throne, 
 "Where all thy crimes must shortly be made 
 
 known ? 
 This life at which thou hast rcpin'd so long. 
 For thine eternal bliss I will prolong." 
 These words address-d, like brilliant floods of 
 
 day. 
 From oil' her soul rent all the clouds away ; 
 She then beheld herself— herself accused. 
 She saw her Saviour by her sins abused: 
 
 fit to live and now afrn*d to die. 
 
179 
 
 Aloud for mercy she began lo cry — 
 She sought a blessing such as God bestows. 
 And found redemption from her former woes; 
 Her soul releas'd, to love divine restored, 
 The world forgotten was no more deplored. 
 By grace illum'd, by grace of God forgiven, 
 She look'd for her reward laid up in heaven. 
 
 Like patient lambs to strokes of death resign. 
 She bears her grief and doth no more repine; 
 The pomp of fashion and the lap of ease, 
 Her humble soul could now no longer please — 
 This earth too mean to seek a resting place, 
 She found a rest — a rest in heavenly grace. 
 Renew'd in heart, she leads a pious life, 
 A fondling mother and a virtuous wife. 
 
 Like well oil'd lamps bestow a brilliant 
 light, 
 To show the path in a bewildered night, 
 So her example all around her blazM, 
 "While saints admir'd & oarel ess sinners gazld. 
 She read the Bible, and by faith she found, 
 Celestial manna flow -d on earthly ground ; 
 She built her hope on that foundation stone, 
 \nd sought the aid which comes from God a- 
 lone. 
 
 Like eagles soar and in their lofty flight, 
 J <eave meaner pro?po.~t:; far bcaeath their sigh!- 
 
180 
 
 So did her soul and her affections rise, 
 Is or found a home beneath the upper skies. 
 She was a christian, and to christians joined, 
 And not in word — to works oflove inclin'd. 
 No selfish sect nor human creed could hold, 
 Her pious soul from loving all the fold. 
 IN r o grace nor virtue that adorns our race, 
 Butseem'd with her to find a welcome place. 
 When health and friends would in her cottage 
 
 meet, 
 She sat like Mary at her Saviour's feet; 
 In sickness sheresign'd herself to God, 
 And bore with patience the afflicting rod, 
 When death approach- d, with age her head was 
 
 gray, 
 She met the stroke without the least dismay. 
 A husband, sons and daughters wept around, 
 A mother, who had won the heavenly ground. 
 They saw the triumphs of a Saviour's blood, 
 Disparting all the rage of Jordan's flood ! 
 They saw a saint triumphant gain the shore, 
 Where tempests rage and storms arise no more ; 
 They heard her last expiring words declare, 
 "Come follow me, a crown of glory wear. 5 ' 
 If absent souls can speak to mortal's ear, 
 O' give attention and profoundly hear; 
 Methinks I hep* the sister's voice so sweet, 
 
181 
 
 Where ransorn'd saints and angels kindly meet , 
 Recounting ail her worldly troubles o'er, 
 Where souls in triumph are distress'd no more. 
 
 Do 1 imagine that I hear her say — 
 "O children stop if in the downward way! 
 Return from sin nor onward further go, 
 Lest you may sink in dreadful depths of wo : 
 My pious son, my pious daughter too, 
 Hold on your way, your Saviour still pursue; 
 Not long till death shall ope the gates of bliss, 
 And let our ransoni'd souls each other kiss. 
 
 Here pains forgotten — souls exalted high, 
 Receive full pleasure in the boundless sky ; 
 Stand firm my children in a tempter's land, 
 Go on to conquer — reach the heavenly strand ; 
 And here we'll meet on King Immanuel's shore, 
 Where grief & pain & death distress no more." 
 
 OLD AGE. 
 My beauty fades, my eyes grow dim. 
 
 My f; cion decay, 
 
 I feel that every active limb, 
 
 Must soon be lifeless clay. 
 
 This lamp of life that burns below. 
 Will soon exhaust and die. 
 
182 
 
 This vital fount shall cease to now. 
 And all its streams be dry. 
 
 I will not tremble at the stroke, 
 
 If Christ but lend his aid, 
 Although the thread of life be broke. 
 
 Thisilesh in dust be laid. 
 
 And though this mortal frame repose, 
 
 Beneath the grassy clod, 
 My ransom 3 d soul shall rest' with those 
 
 Who worship with their God. 
 
 Then it shall join in holy song, 
 
 In praises all divine, 
 With the triumphant heavenly' throng, 
 
 In endless aces shine. 
 
 DREAM— SUCH AS POLT> FEIGN. 
 FAR in a grove alone I stray Hi, 
 
 And sought a silent bower, 
 I sat me down beneath the shade, 
 
 To muse the happy hour. 
 
 The scene was charming to my sight 
 
 The wild birds sweetly 
 • The vocal woods gave me delight. 
 
 And far around me ra 
 
rheptace was paradise to me, 
 
 _My thoughts rov'd on amain, 
 I'd found the ^ ot I long l d to see, 
 
 And bliss without a pain. 
 The sweetest feelings of the soul, 
 
 In one celestial stream, 
 Bore me away with sweet control, 
 
 In a seraphic dream. 
 Tvlethought I saw a damsel fair, 
 
 And tears were in her eyes, 
 Her head, her breast and arms were barc 4 
 
 I heard her bursting sighs. 
 I heard her call, and call aloud, 
 
 To those who passed her by, 
 But few among the busy crowd, 
 
 Gave her the least reply. 
 I stopped and look'-d her in the face — • 
 
 *Twas then she sweetly smil'd, 
 Her features shone with heavenly grace, 
 
 Far more than nature's child. 
 I stepp'd toward her and I cried,. 
 
 O tell to me thy name, 
 And tell me where thou dost abide, 
 
 And whence thy sorrows came. 
 With diuidence and down cast eye. 
 okc, 
 
184 
 
 iped a tear and gave a 
 And thus her silence broke. ' 
 
 {t My name is Charity or Love, 
 Descended from the skies, 
 
 My native home is heaven above. 
 Where no distresses ri=e. 
 
 I left the happy millions there, 
 
 To visit all mankind, 
 I would their restless souls prepare, 
 
 A better world to find. 
 
 I long have called to every class*, 
 
 1 o take me by the ham I , 
 But some would mock and deaily pass 
 
 And let me weeping stand. 
 
 Some years agol passed along-, 
 
 Where multitudes reside, 
 And several of the gazing throng, 
 
 Engaged me for their bride. 
 
 The merchants took me in their store v 
 
 And learned of me to smile, 
 Cut this they done to sell the more. 
 id gain the peasant's toil. 
 
 .Mechanics too, of every kind. 
 Entreated me full v 
 
185 
 
 While flatt'ry and deceit could find, 
 A bitter way to Bell, 
 
 But now the times severe have grown. 
 
 And labor gives no gain, 
 Their hearts arc hard as hardest stone> 
 
 And me they all disdain. 
 
 Theyfve turned me from their parlor doors, 
 
 And stonM me in the street, 
 I find no place upon their floors, 
 
 Nor aught of them to eat! 
 
 I then besought the priestly clan, 
 
 To gain a shelter there, 
 Some took me in and soon began 3 
 
 To celebrate the fair. 
 
 Thev'd drew me im on Sabbath day, 
 
 And lead me. to the place, 
 Where hundreds meet to sing and pray, 
 
 And wait for heavenly grace. 
 
 But all the week their acts nroclaim'd, 
 
 Their negligence to me, 
 They seldom loved to hear me nam'd, 
 
 And would my presence flee. 
 
 Their love to me was not unfeigned. 
 But few I found were true, 
 
I8u 
 
 When they their worldly objects gain fc ck 
 They bade me long adieu. 
 
 They've led me up the pulpit stair* 
 To preach abroad my fame, 
 
 But oft have scandalized me there. 
 And pushed me down with shame. 
 
 They often rave and drive me far, 
 From where they stand to preach, 
 
 And in the zeal of pulpit war, 
 Their prejudices teach. 
 
 They all agree and have combin'c}, . 
 
 To kill me if they can, 
 They've hunted up and down to find, 
 
 And drive me from their clan. 
 
 This is the cause, young man I tell, 
 
 Why 1 must wander here, 
 And why so high my sorrows swell.. 
 
 And I so sad appear. 
 
 I now must seek the wilderness. 
 
 Nor find a cottage nigh, 
 I there must wail my deep distress,^ 
 
 And vent for man my sigh." 
 
 I'll go with thee, I loudly said, 
 And give theemy embrace, 
 
137 
 
 With thee, for man my tears 111 shed 
 
 In the sequestered place. 
 These words addressed, I then awoke, 
 
 And pondered well the theme, 
 And O ! how charm d by her that spoke,, 
 
 The substance of my dream. 
 
 ON THOUGHT. 
 AMAZING thought! how rapid dost thou fly I 
 O er all the world and round the ample sky, 
 Thou dost the meads and flowry plains survey, 
 Where nature wantons in delightful play. 
 From shade to shade thy golden wings have 
 
 flown, 
 From pole to pole, and thro' the burning zone. 
 The towring hill where human never trod, 
 Where lofty cedars to the whirlwinds nod, 
 Thou dost ascend and fearless travel there, 
 And stretch thy soaring pinions in the air. 
 Stupendous mounts, projected in the cloud, 
 W r here forked lightnings play, and tempests 
 
 shroud, 
 Where rocky walls sublimely fdl the sight, 
 Thou dost unwearied speed thy wondrous flight. 
 Thou canst delight in beauties of the ,;lade, 
 And play along the wild sequcster'd shade^ 
 
188 
 
 And trace the rivers as their courses lead^ 
 Along the mountains and the grassy mead. 
 Where rising towns in beauteous order stand, 
 And superb cities deck the sea-side strand ; 
 Where smoky hamlets thro' the country rise, • 
 And rural landscapes bloom beneath the skies; 
 There thou dost fly and revel on the scene, 
 And widely wing creation's vernal green. 
 Where /Etna struggles and emits her sm;jke, 
 Or Hekla s mouth with burning cinders choke, 
 Thy vent rous wings have borne the in thy 
 
 race, 
 To view the wonders of the dreadfil place. 
 The gloomy caverns underneath the ground, 
 Thou dost survey and wing the dread profound ; 
 In martial fields where death and fury fly, 
 And roaring canons shake the smoul I'ririgsky, 
 Along the place in trembling thou hast fled, 
 And sadly saw the dying an'' the dead. 
 When sable night is muffled round the spheres. 
 And gloom and sadness fill the world with fears. 
 Then thou art fearless, ever on the flight 
 The darkest abyss naked to thy sight ! 
 When fierce tornadoes travel o'er the world, 
 And sumptuous cities are in ruin hurlci, 
 In dread confusion thou dost hover there, 
 Or trace the whirling storm along the air. 
 
189 
 
 Thy wakeful nature never knows to sleepy 
 Thou brav'st the billows of the flowing deep, 
 Thou climb'st the tow'ring waves in midnight 
 
 hours, 
 And smoothly glid'st above their frightful pow'rs 
 
 The earth too narrow for thy ample bounds, 
 Thou dost ascend and try the heavenly grounds^ 
 In floating ether thou hast found the way, 
 To trace the planets round the source of day . 
 In thy adventures thou hast found the land, 
 Where trees ambrosial and a Saviour stand. 
 The blooming lilly and the vernal spring, 
 There saints immortal and the angels sing. 
 O dwell- forever in that happy place, 
 There grow and flourish on a Saviour's grace, 
 Rove o'er the plains and rise th' eternal height, 
 And stay thyself in uncreated light. 
 
 A WORD TO THE FAIR. 
 
 YE beauteous fair, if you'd prepare, 
 
 To live a happy life, 
 You must discern and fully learn, 
 
 The pleasures of a wife. 
 
 While you are youn T , your path is hung, 
 With snares on every side. 
 
You look for bliss, but you mi=£ f 
 Till you become a bride. 
 
 Then if you can select a man, 
 
 And give him all your heart, 
 When this you do be ever true, 
 
 Nor act the coquette's part. 
 But first remind, be sure to find ? 
 
 A man of sober name. 
 Let him be found, of morals sounds 
 «• £nd long of virtuous fame. 
 ' "Know him to be, from vices" free, 
 
 A man of generous mind, 
 And one that feels, another's ills, 
 
 Affectionate and kind. 
 A handsome face, in am'rous race, 
 
 Too often does decoy, 
 And riches are sometimes a snare, 
 
 And may your bliss destroy. 
 
 Now ask your heart, if he's the part* 
 
 You only do admire 1 
 Or is it gold? which you behold. 
 
 That kindles your desire? 
 As men deceive, don't you believe, 
 . Your ev'ry lover's tale, 
 If love should pain, you must 
 
 Nor let it soon Drerail 
 
19! 
 
 fee not in haste, but always chaste* 
 
 Be modest and refin'd, 
 And when you can, obtain the man, 
 
 To whom you would be join'd. 
 Let him be sure your heart is pure, 
 
 And wait lor hymen's tic, 
 To bless the day, when females may, 
 
 With their fond wish comply. 
 
 DIALOGUE 
 
 Between Missouri, the Eastern States, the South* 
 cm States, and Middle States, during the ses- 
 sion of Congress of 1821, on the Missouri 
 Question. 
 Missouri to the eastern states 
 DEAR sisters why are you so bold, 
 
 That you reject my motion, 
 Last year I was in Union roll'd, 
 
 To have a legal portion; 
 But now your wit and language strain, 
 
 And in the Congress thunder, 
 You strive to turn me off again, 
 And cut our bands asunder. 
 You wish me not to hold a slave, 
 My black and stolen treasure. 
 
Borne motive else you seem to have* 
 
 111 tell you at my leisure; 
 I think you wish to raise ajar, 
 
 And sound the nation's feeling, 
 To light the match of civil war, 
 
 And set us all to reeling. 
 
 You can but know what you have done 5 
 
 Is very bold and daring, 
 Thro' all the South loud clamors run, 
 
 A fearful omen wearing ; 
 My sister states who hold their blacksj 
 
 Are all with me united, 
 We will retain those precious snacks, 
 
 And not by you be flighted. 
 
 You now pretend to say 'tis wrong, 
 
 That bondage be admitted, 
 I cannot hold the sable throng, 
 
 And be in Congress seated; 
 You err in this politic strife, 
 
 Now give the subject over, 
 And lefme owrf what's dear aslifej 
 
 Your spleen no more discover. 
 
 Eastern states to Missouri* 
 You call us sifters, very well, 
 •But if we're true relation* 
 
293 
 
 You can no longer buy and fell, 
 
 The freedom of creation; 
 We'll never give our vole again, 
 
 That slavery be extei 
 
 We'll save >ou of the mora] stain, 
 Tho 1 you be much offended. 
 
 Our motive's pure, our cause is good, 
 
 We^ve nothing kept concealed, 
 On freedom s side we long have stoodj 
 
 And nothing; el-e revealed ; 
 The Constitution is our guide, 
 
 In all our long- debating, 
 By it 3 ou must be hud aside, 
 
 Though all your angry prating. 
 
 At this you i;rin and wildly stare, 
 
 And blame the true heart Yankee, 
 You raise the strife you cannot bear, 
 
 And then you call us pranky ; 
 No other cause we have in view, 
 
 No scheme for war we're laying, 
 But that you may not hold a slave, 
 
 We wish in e\ r1 ry saying. 
 
 Southern states to the eastern states 
 Dear sisters we must tell you plain, 
 In this dispute we blame you, 
 
 1 
 
194 
 
 Because this point you long maintain,- 
 
 It surely wilJ defame you ; 
 Ourproperty we will defend, 
 
 In spile of all your brav'r} r , 
 We cannot think to condescend, 
 
 To loose the pelf of slavery. 
 
 Let us alone who love the trade 9 
 
 Qfbart'ring human nature, 
 Let this young nymph* be sister made* 
 
 And now no longer hate her; 
 You boast of freedom, so do we, 
 
 Then let us cease our jarring, 
 Lest we may live to see the day, 
 
 "When sisters may be warring. 
 
 Middle states to the southern states, 
 Injustice we no more forbear, 
 
 But loudly speak for freedom, 
 To hold your slaves it is not fair, 
 
 To whip and starve and bleed 'em; 
 And if the cold and stony heart, 
 
 Will hold those sons of sorrow, 
 Missouri shall not have a part, 
 
 IS'o bondage from you borrow. 
 
 We have no wish to raise a fight, 
 But on this ground wc settle, 
 
 -Missouri. 
 
195 
 
 We will defend lair freedom's right, 
 
 With all our might and mettle; 
 •Let this young nymph wash out her shame, 
 And then we will receive her, 
 
 Until she does, we'll spurn her name, 
 And keep her out forever. 
 
 The Poet to all. 
 Restrain your tongues upon. this theme* 
 
 And let no more be spoken, 
 Or else, it is no idle dream, 
 
 Our hands will soon be broken ; 
 I am no friend to human sale?, 
 
 Nor to such loud contention?, 
 O'er all the states great tear prevail:, 
 
 That you will make dissections. 
 
 I would advise to give, and take, 
 
 And not be over rigid, 
 Wind up disputes for friendship's sake. 
 
 Nor longer be so frigid ; 
 'Let all unite before you rise, 
 
 And be no more divided, 
 And strengthen all (lie nation's ties, 
 
 On this be all decided. 
 
 AJN[ ATOSTROPHETO GEN. BRADDOCK. 
 
 T>RADDOCK! the pride of Britain'- h 
 Commander of her (rain.' 
 
190: 
 
 "v\ ho drove, in war the Gallic bai. 
 
 Or slew them on the plain. 
 Thy steed was like the bounding roe, 
 
 Thy sword a blaze of fire, 
 Thy charge upon th' invading foe. 
 
 Like winter whirlwinds dire. 
 Thy wrath was like the gathering storm. 
 
 That darkens round the day, 
 When trembling trees in sad deform, 
 
 Would gladly flee away. 
 Like lightning gleams across the sky, 
 
 And wings destruction far, 
 The terrors of thy sword did fly, 
 
 Along the field of war. 
 Thy voice was like the rolling floods, 
 
 That tumbles from the hills, 
 That sweeps the cottage of the woods, 
 
 And floats away the rills. 
 
 Or'like loud thunder to thy foes, 
 
 Were words of thy command, 
 Thy conq'ringarm with death bestow?, 
 
 The reeking trembling land ! 
 Like a tall oak that lifts its head, 
 
 And braves the winter's sky ; 
 So Braddock stood — nor did he dread. 
 
 The hosts that pass d him by. 
 
197 
 
 Thv arm rcclaim'd the bloody field, 
 
 From Gallia's strongest host, 
 The vanquish' d foes th? contest yield— 
 
 The arduous contest lost. 
 To save thy brethren from the grave, 
 
 And peace to them restore, 
 Thou sail'dst across th' Atlantic wave, 
 
 And hail'd Columbia's shore. 
 Thy march was thro' a desert wide, 
 
 To meet the bloody si^ht, 
 George Washington was at thy side — 
 
 Advised thee how to fight. 
 ButO! thy heart disdain'd the thought, 
 
 Of learning arts of war, 
 Or by a WntdukinV to be taught, 
 
 From Britain's Island far. 
 But soon alas ! the savage yell, 
 
 Resounded thro 1 the vale ; 
 Like blighted figs thy soldiers fell, 
 
 And the sad day bewail. 
 Twas far in mountains of the west> 
 
 That Braddock bravely bled, 
 J Tis there thy bones are now at rest, 
 
 Among the silent dead. 
 Tho' once so vali mt and so brave, 
 
 That Gallia dreaded thee, 
 
m 
 
 But now thy dwelling is the grave. 
 
 Beneath a mournful .tree. 
 How low thy mansion and thy head. 
 
 In silence thou dost dwell, 
 A grave of earth is now thy bed, . 
 
 A loathsome wormy cell. 
 Calm as the lake thy peaceful breast. 
 
 When winds distress no more, 
 When stormy winds are lulld to rest, 
 
 Nor beat upon the shore. 
 Two mossy stones that stand for thee, 
 
 Are only left to saj r : 
 < ; Braddock the great, behold and see, 
 
 Has moulder' d here in clay." 
 No mother left to mourn thee slain. 
 
 Nor wife to call thy name, 
 The hooting owls o'er thee complain. 
 
 Thy lonely grave proclaim. 
 The trees that grow around the spot* 
 
 The waving thistles there, 
 This hero's name have ne'er forgot, 
 
 But waft it on the air. ' 
 The stranger when he passes by 
 
 Thy grave o'er grown with moss 
 Shall say u Great Braddock here doth Iie a 
 
 His nation's dearest loss," 
 
199 
 
 M AN— A COMPLICATED ANIMAL. 
 MAN'S nature is so mix'd and wrought, 
 So various in his act and thought, 
 That all the beasts which stalk the earth, 
 And insects of degraded birth, 
 Are seen in him — in him they move, 
 In him the} r hate, devour and love. 
 
 The Lion in man's anger growls, 
 In man's ambition there he scowls^ 
 JIc treats his weaker fellows low, 
 And boasts his courage and the woe , 
 The warrior walks the martial field, 
 And thousands to his prowess yield, 
 He stalks the conqueror of the plains, 
 And like the Lion lives and reigns; 
 He moves in majesty and splendor, 
 And to this Lion all surrender. 
 
 In man's revenge the Tiger Turks, 
 He's fierce and cruel in his works ; 
 In scenes of blood he takes delight, 
 And seeks his prey in silent night, 
 When none suspect their danger near^ 
 He plunges deep his fatal spear, 
 And sates in gore, his cursed passion, 
 Much like the Tiger's dreaded fashion^ 
 
200 
 
 In man's deceit the Wolf behold, 
 II- seeks his living from the fold, 
 He sometimes feigns to be a friend, 
 But that's his plan to tear and rend, 
 He is ferocious, and will try, 
 To kill and day, but always sly, 
 Kf sneaks along the midnight path, 
 And meditates his meal of death. 
 'Tis by deceit, the ground is gain'd, 
 Wh^re he is ^or^,d and you arepairi'd, 
 He slays your peace— fills you with sorrow. 
 And like the vVolfhe's gone to-morrow. 
 
 The Horse runs fearless in the fields, 
 •Mid cannons, guns and swords and shields, 
 And man, the hero, like him goes, 
 Und ;unted in the midst of foes, 
 His courage leads him in the way, 
 Where hosts around in an^er rlaj* ; 
 He lovos the conquest — -pushes on, 
 And gains the goal, or dies forlorn; 
 He feels no rein, but onward dashes, 
 And, like the horse cares not for lashes'. 
 
 The Ass is stupid — stubborn too, 
 He wili not drive, nor follow you, 
 He takes his own directed way, 
 IS ox cares if he should go astray. 
 
201 
 
 ^o man is stupid — often found, 
 To tread forbidden, desert ground; 
 His real good, he slow discerns, 
 And from his danger seldom turns; 
 His stubborn will forbids to bend, 
 Nor can be turnM by foe or friend, 
 His own direction he will take, 
 That, right or wrong, he'll not forsake, 
 Tho' he be scourged and badly b.ruis'd, 
 Reproved aloud, and long abus'd! 
 His life's a load he cannot bear it, 
 nd, like the ass his brays declare it 
 
 The Ox that labors in the fields, 
 And patient to his m aster yields; 
 He draws his burden all the day — 
 Consents to give his toil away. 
 Poor man, like him the yoke must bear, 
 And in his labor take a share ; 
 Innur'd to toil — short rest he know?, 
 He bears a load of ills and woes, 
 Strong fate has bound him to his task, 
 And why? He need not murm'ring ask, 
 He toils in patience— hopes for gain, 
 His cares increase — his hopes are vain, 
 What he acquires some others get, 
 *nd wanton on his labor" d sweat, 
 I 2 
 
• t he finds bis fruits are squam 
 And like the Ox— northisheponder'd. 
 
 The crafty Fox strays far away. 
 And secl:3 by wiles his nightly prey, 
 lie sucks the blood of harmless nam<\ 
 And gallops off in guilt and shame : 
 And when pursued he's bard to find, 
 Among the woods so long inclined. 
 His cunning art can soon prepare, 
 A scheme to 'scape pursuers there. 
 So man on gain and fortune bent. 
 Leaves native soil and home's con' 
 He forms his plans with artful guise, 
 To snatch the prey with sad surpr 
 He takes by stealth the peasant's t 
 And sates his thirst on night!} 1 " spoil— 
 Secretes his crime from public view, 
 And seeks the place where none pursue. 
 He veils himself in dark designs, 
 Unknown to most discerning mind- 
 He's not mistrusted in his deeds, 
 Till by his craft his booty bleeds ; 
 He then withdraws to distant pla< 
 And saves himself in swiftest r 
 
 Behold the nature of the Bear. 
 In saddest mode he travels where 
 
203 
 
 Dark solitude and silence brood, 
 
 Along the desert mountain wood ; 
 
 He growls along the gloomy night, 
 
 His aspect surly in the light, 
 
 He is no friend to creatures round. 
 
 But always sad and surly found.. 
 
 So man in melancholy strays, 
 
 A murky solitary maze ; 
 
 He finds the earth a barren wild, 
 
 Himself akin tomorrow's child ; 
 
 His heart grows hard as days roll on, 
 
 His aspect sad, his soul forlorn, 
 
 He groans his sorrows to the day, 
 
 And in his desert loves to stray ; 
 
 He thinks he has no friend below, 
 
 And lurks desponding to and fro ; 
 
 He is a friend to none around him, 
 
 Much like a bear I've always found him. 
 
 The Monkey ranges o'er the woods. 
 And on his neighbors oft intrudes; 
 He's 'most a fool, but full of play, 
 He's apt to steal and run away, 
 He's quite diverting in his turn, 
 He'll imitate, pretend to learn, 
 He's full of motions, full of fun, 
 He laughs at mischief he has done.; 
 
204 
 
 Me i3 a pest where e'er he be, 
 He is despised — you laugh to see. 
 And what is man, but monkey grown % 
 He lives on labors not his own ; 
 He cheats, defrauds and pilfers too, 
 And if he can, takes more than fc s due; 
 He plagues his neighbors where he goe?, 
 And then complains they are his foes; 
 He makes pretensions to be wise, 
 He woulr* sometimes in science rise;. 
 Bur soon alas! you plainly see, 
 He imitates what others be ; 
 His words and manners, and his mien. 
 Are borrowed — this is plainly ?een ; 
 He thinks he's wise, he thinks he's great. 
 But empty sculls you can but hate, 
 If you could see how nature made him, 
 Ah ! monkey like, she did degrade him. 
 
 The Sheep, a harmless creature made,- 
 Jn innocence has trod the glade ; 
 His nature mild, be thinks no ill", 
 To strokes of death resigns his will; 
 He gives his fleece without complaint, 
 Nor murmurs when he s almost faint ; 
 He seems defenceless, often slain, 
 By bloody prowlers of the plain-; 
 
206 
 
 Forgetting home, he's apt to stray. 
 And in the mountains loose his way. 
 So man, that's born of heavenly mind, 
 To peace and virtue stong inclined, 
 The ills of life in patience bears, 
 Norvex'd beneath a crowd of cares; 
 The gross insults and every wrong, 
 Receiv'd from the surrounding throng, 
 He suffers long, nor once complains, 
 In all his sorrows* grief and pains ; 
 He thinks no ill — treats all as friend?;, 
 Nor his own life by war defends; 
 Defenceless in himself he goes, 
 Sometimes abus'd by cruel foes. 
 He strays sometimes too far from home, 
 Too long in wilds he learns to roam, 
 Perhaps by w r olves is torn asunder, 
 Much like the sheep that loves to wander. 
 
 The Dog remarked for sense and thought, 
 By instinct, and by practice taught, 
 Will long defend his owner's cause, 
 Urg'd on by nature's ri^id laws ; 
 He'll trace his game though out of sight, 
 Nor loose the track by day or night. 
 His u?^ is known — his friendship greai, 
 But dreadful to incur his hate, 
 
20G 
 
 So man is taught, on nature's base. 
 
 To run his game, a tedious race, 
 
 His object always out of sight, 
 
 He still pursues with arduous riight ; 
 
 And if he once should seize the prize, 
 
 He hunts again, away he tries; 
 
 His life's a race that often leads 
 
 O'er mountains, hills and miry meads i 
 
 lie may be useful to the throng, 
 
 Not to himself his spoils belong, 
 
 He'll bite and snarl in time of danger, 
 
 And scarce befriend you w T hen a stranger. 
 
 The Serpent crawls and licks the du st, 
 By heaven's sentence true and just; 
 He takes his food by -thousand wiles. 
 And thoughtless innocence beguiles ; 
 He lies secreted in the grass, 
 And slily watches all that pass, 
 And waits a chance, his poison slingc, 
 And each unwary victim stings ; 
 He's curs'd and hated where he's known, 
 On him there's no compassion shown ! 
 So man iscurs'd and low debas'd, 
 And by his foes is often chas'd ; 
 He hunts the desert for his bread, 
 And throws all nature into dread :. 
 
Not easy seen by n 
 
 p hidden, there he waits his prey, 
 Flings rleath and terror o c er the way ; 
 His tongue is poison, and his breath 
 Gives hydrophobia — dreadful death! 
 He ; lures the harmless, bites them then, 
 And hides in grass, or murky den ; 
 Kis name is hated — none pretend, 
 To love, respect, or call him friend ; 
 His poison's seen in every feature, 
 He's like the snake, a dreadful creature, 
 
 The Lizzard of contempt'ous name, 
 That lowly crawls the dust in shame, 
 
 nats fojr food, or lives on air, 
 And starves almost on empty fare. 
 
 nan is seen in low disgrace. 
 And meanly crawls his shameful race ; 
 .olden gems that round him play, 
 lie tries to catch along the way ; 
 Hut fast they fly, nor can he find, 
 Enough to satisfy his mind ; 
 
 V'vclsin the dust and lives, 
 On empty things and seldom thrives; 
 I'e pants for something — tries to get it, 
 But, like the Lizzard cannot t 
 
208 
 
 The common Toad that jumps along, 
 And fills the ear with sadden'd song, 
 Would swiftly bound his wantonM road. 
 But slow he moves — himself a load ; 
 He swells with wind his little ^ize, 
 And puffs mean greatness to your eyes ; 
 But watch him when his wind is gone, 
 He sinks beneath indignant scorn! 
 So man pretends to rise and run, 
 His course is full of noise and fun; 
 He tries too fast to leap and climh, 
 What he pursues is not in time. 
 Himself a load he cannot bear, 
 He faints, and falls beneath it there ; 
 With hauty pride his bosom swells, 
 His windy feats he often tells, 
 He looks quite big — not well refin'd— 
 A pompous show — but little mind. 
 He puffs with greatness, not his own, 
 With empty wind he's stuff'd and blown ; 
 For, in himself he's lank and leaner, 
 Than any Toad he's poor and meaner. 
 
 The swarms of Gnats that move along; 
 In wide, promiscuous, giddy throng, 
 Sport on awhile in vernal day, 
 But soon from earth are swept away ! 
 
209 
 
 ^u man in long and endless train, 
 Is seen to dance the flow^y lam. 
 He mixes in the countless host, 
 On frolic wing tumultuous tost; 
 He airy sports on fortune's boon, 
 And spends in play his vernal noon ; 
 But sable winds drive him from sijht 
 And close his dance in endless bight ; 
 His hUi is short — uncertain vapor, 
 Like floating gnats in evening caper. 
 
 The Hornet builds ingenious ne-t, 
 And there presumes to make his rest — 
 A bold, a wild, a restless thing, 
 And fights with sharp envenom'd sting. 
 
 in with -kill, almost divine, 
 Constructs the palace — makes it shine, 
 He calls it home — a resting place, 
 But often wings a desert ch a 
 He roves a stranger thro c the wood, 
 fn search cf foreign, empty good ! 
 His nature wild — not easy tam'd, 
 And fiercely bold — not often shamed ; 
 Disturb him not, for if you do, 
 //e ; ll fight, and deeply sting you too ; 
 He loves to pierce us. you would scorn it^ 
 But marvel not for he s a hornet. 
 
210 
 
 The Buzzard cleaves his trackless way. 
 And scents afar his putrid prey ; 
 Jle leaves the richer good behind, 
 And lives on carrion, if he find. 
 So man in flight, on mischief bent, 
 Pursues his course with eager scent, 
 Talks none of good, but scandal brays, 
 And stir* corruption as he strays; 
 He never tastes the meat that's sweeter.. 
 But Buzzard- like is carrion eater \ 
 
 v The Eagle, lofty bird of flight, 
 ^Soars oft away from vulgar sight, 
 ^He buids his nest on mountains high 3 
 Where seldom seen by human eye, 
 He owns the forest's wide domains, 
 And there majestic lives and reigns. 
 So man, in science rises high, 
 He climbs, and soars, and wings the sky ; 
 He measures globes and blazing suns, 
 And thro' etherial regions runs ; 
 He knows the north, the burning zone, 
 O'er every clime his wings have flown ; 
 By daring thought, he leaves below, 
 (His meaner fellows plung'd in woe) 
 Sublimely soars, and ardent, gains 
 The heav'ns high hills and her broad plain? 
 
'Tis there he builds his down 3 
 In that high region takes his rest* 
 
 -lis there he reigns forever king, 
 Ami undisturbed by meaner wing; 
 lie loves the region, lives adoring, 
 And, like the Eagle high is soaring. 
 
 The Geese are noted for their noise, 
 They gabble loud, unmeaning jo ys, 
 
 They dabble. in the muddy ground, 
 
 And mean and filthy they are found ; 
 
 They don't aspire, nor leave the place, 
 
 But live in folly and disgrace. 
 
 So man, a noisy being is, 
 
 "When drunken, sordid joys, are hisj 
 
 He gabbles nonsense and abuse, 
 
 He talks no good — of little use, 
 
 He fills the ear with jargon sound, 
 
 And bills his filth and mischief round. 
 
 He deals in slander — dirty stuff, 
 
 And drains the puddle — not enough ; 
 
 His walks are low, and seldom rise, 
 
 He's base and filthy and unwise; 
 
 He grovels low and squalls his slander, 
 
 And paddles much like goose and gander. 
 
 The Swine that lives on husks and corn* 
 J^ooks sullen, sad, and grunts forlorn, 
 
2<2 
 
 With his long snout he roots the soil, 
 An. i fattens on the poor man's toil; 
 Ile^s always greedy fend untaught, 
 In mud he wallows— low m thought 1 
 So man on meanest treasures feeds, 
 And runs where love- of money leads; 
 His soul grows sordi'i and'.debased, 
 He grunts for more arid looks uis^rac'd; 
 He snouts the poor man out of door, 
 Takes all he can and soeks fcr more. 
 .His manners rou^h and quite uncouth, 
 And cares for none but self in truth ; 
 When fat and full, he'll tu?k you deep, 
 /Ze'll make you fiy or make you weep. 
 JFTegrunts and eats, and greedy swallows, 
 i/e's like the hog, in mud, that wallows. 
 
 The crawling Worm that moves along, 
 D^s; is'd and trodden by the throng"; 
 He cannot turn, nor fly tin way, 
 
 But often crushM an v&?\ prey ; 
 
 He's soft and frai] — eoionos'd of shame, 
 
 Dirt and corn lion i- his name. 
 
 So man of dust, in -,ust remains, 
 
 Pursu 'd for prey and waathes in nains, 
 
 His thoughts so sordid, seldom rise, 
 
 Death stares him where he crawls or lies ; 
 
213 
 
 Danger? race him round the earth, 
 
 rush him in the birth. 
 He cannot run, nor fly his doom, 
 But soon liiust find the lonesome tomb ; 
 He loves the dust, the dust he's sweeping 
 An< . uiie the worm, corruption creeping. 
 
 ife' s like a Bug, he'll pinch and bite, 
 And like a Cat he'll scratch and fight : 
 Jfe's like a crooked tender Snail, 
 That's easy crush'd along his trail. 
 
 He's like the Mole that digs his way, 
 From public view, from open day ; 
 He's Yellow jacket, quick and fierce, 
 And with a sting will deeply pierce. 
 And like a wasp along the fences, 
 Will deeply goad you- to the senses. 
 
 The Mushroom grows & spreads out soon. 
 Turns black, and dies before 'tis noon ; 
 Some men are so, they'll quickly shoot, 
 They rise and flourish without root; 
 But soon al is! such fade away, 
 And leave black marks of their decay. 
 
 Man's like an Eel — a slip'ry fish, 
 iie'll twist and flounce, elude your wish : 
 You scarce can hold him — often find 
 uim gone, and left the scurf behind 
 
214 
 
 lie's like the monstrous Crockadile, 
 Pretends to weep his conquer'd spoil; 
 He's like a bat that's blind in da}-- 
 And in sad darkness loves to stray. 
 I think he's like the possom too, 
 He grins hi- anguish when untrue ; 
 Or likp the cricket, should I say 1 
 That idly chirps his hours away ! 
 He's like the owl that hates the light^ 
 But pours his sorrows on the night. 
 The lust and rage of every beast, 
 Down from the greatest to the leat ; 
 The fiercest passions of their race, 
 And fearful natures that disgrace, 
 Are plainly seen in human life, 
 The scene of ev'ry pain and strife ! 
 
 O man! why hast thou fallen so? 
 Created, first the lord below — 
 Intelligent, and harmless, mild, 
 Heav'n s holy image in the child ; 
 Exalted once, without a foe, 
 Without the plague of vice and woe. 
 But O ! thy state, how badly changed I 
 Thy glory tied, thy mind derang'd ! 
 "More savage now than beasts of blood. 
 Than monger; of the raging fl 
 
£15 
 
 .cited than the snakes in grass, 
 Than all the reptile tribes that pass; 
 More cross d, distress d and full of pain, 
 Than all that moves on earth s broad plain*. 
 Reform thy manners, Ml remind thee, 
 Of better nature let me find thee. 
 
 AN ADDRESS TO THE AMERICAN FAIR. 
 
 M Y muse advent'rous, shall attempt to sing, 
 The pleasing prospect of the op'ning spring, 
 Shall dare to tempt Alcinda's feet abroad, 
 To tread wide nature in her flow'ry road. 
 "When cooling zephyrs fan the flow'ry way, 
 And twittering birds their vernal gambols play, 
 When meads are green and fields afre decked 
 
 Mi flow'rs, 
 Then spend the transports of some cooling 
 
 hours. 
 
 Regale your eyes o'er all the landscape wide, 
 And count the brooks that round her inargia 
 
 glide- 
 Go view the rills that gently play along, 
 What rising glories to the grass belong ! 
 
 Ascend the mound «£: seek the cooling shade, 
 Vnd view the wenders which your Go.l 
 rnade ; 
 
216 
 
 l Tis henec you see the mountain's lofty brow. 
 And hills far distant interspers'd below ; 
 Disorder seems to spread itself around, 
 But skill divine in matchless beauty's found. 
 The rising poplar in the expanding green, 
 And humble glories deck the opening scene. 
 Behind yon vista see the village there, 
 Where swains are toiling for their worldly care 
 See rural mansions rising round the grove, 
 And harmless herds in wanton pleasure rove ; 
 The drifted smoke descends along the vale, 
 And seems to mourn where absent lovers fail! 
 Thine eye beholds the distant river roll, 
 Thou hear'st her murm'ring o ; er the rocky 
 
 shoal — 
 Her winding channel bends along the land, 
 And opens where the smoky hamlets stand ; 
 Perhaps she pours a copious tide away, 
 Amid the vale, she makes a long delay, 
 And forms those banks where wand ; ring lover? 
 
 To vent their sorrow, and to weep their woe. 
 
 The distant bells sound faintly to the ear, 
 Or you the lowing herds at distance hear ; 
 The milk-maid wanders o'er the passing way. 
 Hies home her cattle in their roving play. 
 
217 
 
 rustics now lay down their tools awhile, 
 An«l homewar 1 walk to cease from dusty toil, 
 They whittle forth their note? of comic glee, 
 And seek the cot the loving wife to see. 
 The babes and wife with <wcet extatic charms, 
 JVow meet the rustic with extended arms! 
 Far o'er the hill is tun'd a mournful lay, 
 Where lovers with the flute or spinnet play. 
 
 O ! hear the birds sweet singing to their loves, 
 Thro' all the green, thro 1 all the vocal groves; 
 Their varied notes, their trilling anthems run, 
 And mournful most when low the ev'ning sun; 
 Some sing aloud, ambitious to be known, 
 \nd others plaintive scarcely not their own — 
 some strike a note to chant a partner's theme, 
 some mourn in absence and to weep they seem, 
 n lonesome woods amid the growing glooms, 
 \ songstress sweet, her sweetest notes assumes, 
 ^jiiloma sings and lulls them all to sleep, 
 Vnd while they rest she can't forbear to weep J 
 )he chants the irrove, delightful is her lay, 
 me soothes the lover in his midnight way. 
 Thou hear'st'the dove, a sweet and mournful 
 
 song, 
 
 I plaintive note, a note of something wrong; 
 he lay is solemn, and the note sincere, 
 ler mate seems absent and can never hear— 
 
 K 
 
* 1 ~» 
 
 -Sne coos, she calls, expostulates the groves. 
 
 To u r ive to her the absent one she loves ; 
 
 At eve's approach, she haunts the lonesome 
 
 tree, 
 To call her love, and hopes her love to see — 
 Then bends her head and covers o'er he 
 She sleeps in silence and no more can sing. 
 
 Look down the vale, the rising lilly see, 
 There beauty flows in full v iriety ; 
 Her modest stature decorates the green, 
 ?*o spot, nor wrinkle in her bloom is seen. 
 A modest torm behold ! without pretence , 
 Like virtuous maids in harmless innocence. 
 
 Behold the flow'rs expand in living bloom r 
 Display their glory and their grace assume ; 
 Their varied hues in rising beauties glow, 
 In fields extensive, and in vales below. 
 3ome rise in blue, & some are ting'd with gold. 
 And numerous shades in modest pride unfold. 
 If o mimic art, nor toilsome hand has plac'd, 
 Their beauteous order — all by nature grae'd ; 
 Their careless form displays more beauty there, 
 Than prudes could show with all their lime 
 
 care. 
 Behold them tremble as the zephyrs move, 
 Inhale their fragrance, and their odours prove; 
 
219 
 
 The sweet perfume that passes thro' the aii\ 
 Must give delight, and quell the rising care. 
 Now see the blushes in the orchards spread, 
 Where lovely nymphs in vernal seasons tread 
 Their mingling graces and their beauties rise, 
 To charm the soul and captivate the eyes; 
 The fanning breezes lull the swain asleep, 
 And softly o'er thy swelling bosom creep-, 
 They drive the perspirating heat away, 
 And chant thy voice to join creation's lay. 
 
 Contemplate now on what thy walk mny. 
 
 teach, 
 Let vocal woods thy tender passions reach ; 
 Let brooks and rills and mountains, meads and 
 
 flowers, 
 
 Now preach thee wisdom and reiine thy pow'rs. 
 Remember long what various notes wore sung., 
 What dill-rent meanings in their anthems rung ; 
 The merry warblers sang their lays along, 
 And tun'd their pleasure to the busy throng,. 
 But evening shades c ; er all the valleys spread^ 
 And struck their music & their pleasures dead. 
 So wanton youth who sport on fortune's boon* 
 !n pride and pleasure spend their vernal noon; 
 Their theme delightful, seems to charm thcear^ 
 While care is fled and all distressful fear ; 
 IjBtfth strovs their empty mirth, 
 
J'JO 
 
 Their any grow? dim. their joys of little worm 5 
 Their sun declines and brings sad darkness on, 
 Long silence reigns and all their pleasured 
 gone ! 
 
 The fainting sun reclines beyond thy sight) 
 E'er shadows roll their darkness into night, 
 Thy walk resume and find the homeward way, 
 And ne*er forget creation's vocal lay. 
 As ye advance, let converse cheer the mind, 
 "With morals wise and sentiments refiu'd ; 
 WaJk slowly on and keep the house in view, 
 And talk of wonders which are ever new ; 
 Ensnare thy courtier with thy -kill of thought, 
 Let heaven and earth be in thy subject bro't. 
 Rehearse the beauties that on earth extend, 
 Their place, their use, tkeir various orders 
 
 blend ; ' 
 Talk oceans, river?, mountains, kingdoms o 4 er, 
 Forests, fields, and all the distant shore; 
 Let nations, empires and their arts be told. 
 Their pride and grandeur, Sz their feasts of old. 
 On nature dwell, and in thy accents kmpw, 
 >Vhat grades subservient crawl the earth below ; 
 The Hon yonder roars his anger round, 
 While distant herds stand trembling at the 
 
 sound ; 
 There burden'd camels rovo the (V?ert sand, • 
 
2 1 1 
 
 aid here,the horse submissive ploughs the land, 
 'he scaly nations swimming in the sea, 
 'he plumy birds, and the industrious bee, 
 nd insects too, that meanly crawl the earth, 
 *»f honor less, and less of real worth, 
 hould serve for thee in conversation's strain, 
 .nd thus is man a complicated train. 
 ?er daylight's gone return, and near the door 
 'onverse more freely than thou didst before — • 
 [ear to the house when summer's ^rassis . reen, 
 V'hi m shining stars and brighter moon are seen 
 here sit a'while thy social moments spend, 
 aid round the skies thy copious thoughts ex- 
 tend. 
 Vhile sprinkling dews revive the drooping 
 ruse, 
 
 nd murm'ring zephyrs wake their short re- 
 Bpse, 
 
 nd waft nerfame along the passing air, 
 ,ct pleasure pass in conversation there, 
 'hy rosy'cheeks with modest grace shall shine, 
 
 s virtue, knowledge, & good sense are thine; 
 V r ith mind inforrn'd let rapt'rous visions fly, 
 
 nd trace the -wonders of the boundless sky. 
 
 Com oare those orbs that rove expansive space 
 y o youthful lover- in their wonted rice; 
 'ome dow with %ht, and shine effulgence near, 
 
i 
 
 But soon withdraw — their glories disapp 
 They soon perform their rapid (light in air ? 
 And leave the horizon in dark dispair ; 
 The vulgar eye, once dazzled with the train, 
 Now meets the dark and looks for light in vain ! 
 Some far remote with less resplendence glow. 
 But constant honors from their orhits flow ;. 
 As they advance their far ether'al race, 
 They shine in glory and increase in grace ; 
 Their midnight lustre swells upon the sight, 
 And cheersthe horrors of the sable night: 
 They move in grandeur o'eF 'our beggar** 
 
 world, 
 While blazing, comets are in ether hurPd. 
 
 So men, and manners, differ in degree, 
 They show their parts, butin their parts,we see ? 
 Some shine in grace & grandeur not their own, 
 For grace & grandeur they have never known; 
 Their hows are borrow'd, Si their language too, 
 They glow and dazzle only while they're new. 
 
 Tho' gaudy plumes bedeck the coxcomb race, 
 A short acquaintance' brings them to disgraced 
 The men of virtue shine in virtue's dress, 
 They glory not in dross — in tinsel less; 
 Their minds a store house, only known to i'ew y 
 Tfef ir worth intrinsic^ and their friendship true - h 
 
- 
 
 Behold them in their native lustre bright, 
 Reflect resplendence and increase in light , 
 Their hearts are warm, their faithful hearts de,-. 
 clare, 
 
 Their pure intentions to solace the fair. 
 Such men can bless the charmer of their heart?. 
 Their fix'd affection never once departs; 
 Their tlame of virtue ever shall remain, 
 While fops and beaux may show their parts in 
 vain. 
 
 A man of manners, and a man of worth, 
 Has estimated all the things of earth ; 
 With balance justly, he has weighed them all, 
 And down, like trifles, he has seen them fall ; 
 He's not content with mere external things, 
 From deeper mines he knows true pleasure 
 
 springs. 
 A mind serene, an upright soul he knows, 
 Can only triumph over human woes; 
 His soul pacific, like a tranquil bay, 
 He liv'd last year as he would live to-day ; 
 The path of riot, he has seldom trod, 
 He learns his duty in the book of God — 
 The happy nymph who weds a man like this, 
 Shall find her days replete with purest bliss. 
 A theme untouched must yet belong to you, 
 !h strains sublime, I would the theme pursue-. 
 
224 
 
 Ne'er let those hearts that round thy heart en- 
 twine, 
 Presume you never learn'd a thought divine; 
 Extend your thou r hts let holy rap run, 
 And catch new fire ironi the eternal throne. 
 
 Now trace all nature to the great first cause. 
 And tell the use of his immortal laws — 
 His potent word produced the spacious seas, 
 His power controls ill nature as he please ; 
 His wond l rous skill brought forth the race of 
 
 man, 
 And bound in golden chains the social plan : 
 The bond of union both thp sexes join'd, 
 And Hymen's mystic ties link'd mind to mind! 
 God feed*, supports, preserves the human racc 3 
 And condescends to visit them with erace; 
 With lib ral hand compassionates the poor, 
 A Saviour comes, the sinner to restore ; 
 His boundless love pervades his yast domain, 
 Would woo the soul when joys eternal reign^ 
 We read in words, by inspiration giv'n, 
 Our never fading crown laid up in heav'n. 
 
 Extend your thoughts, & let your thoughts 
 arise, 
 And meditate the bounty of the skies; 
 Behold yourself a creature of a day, 
 Perhaps an angel now dcbas'd in clay; 
 
And O ! that clay so wonderfully "wrought, 
 By God created and by Jesus bought! 
 That handsome form, that animateil frame. 
 The pow'r .md wisdom of your God proclaim; 
 Remains dependent on hi^ bounteous hand, 
 For all the Wessings which you now command. 
 His jreat compassion and preserving care, 
 Should woo thy soul to penitential pray 1*. 
 
 Think not 'a prayer, an exercise too low, 
 Nor blush when silent tears repentant flow ; 
 The ground of prayer is sacred to the good, 
 There Ab'ram, Moses and the Prophets stood, . 
 Immortal women on that holy ground, 
 ObtainM a blessing an^ 1 a Saviour found ; 
 That is the place where mortal worms receive • 
 The stamp of fame, with 'their Creator live ; 
 The soul exalts, becomes unfeigned, upright, 
 Prepares to tread the golden walks of light, 
 
 Alcinda, try to make your tomb the skies, 
 And write your Epitaph that never dies! 
 Make one -your friend who never will betray, 
 Nor leave you sad in the distressing day — 
 Give him your hand, and not your heart with- 
 hold, 
 Who decks the bridal day with crowns of gold*. 
 Traverse with him, wherever lie may go r 
 K2 
 
lie*]] dress you o'er in garments white &; clean 
 Nor spot, nor wrinkle, nor a fault be seen ; 
 Ja pious virtues, and ir _-;lcc. 
 
 Thy life shall shine amidst thy kindred race ; 
 No pious soul but would rejoice to see, 
 Those blissful gracescentre all in thee. 
 IVo loss of honor — these thy life sustain, 
 For now thy glory and thy wealth rem;! 
 jSo disappointments can distress thy mint:. 
 For grace commands thee here to be resigned 
 
 The weaker vessel now shall pass along, 
 Triumphant sail amid a pirate throng; 
 ."No boist'rous surge shall plunge herin the deep, 
 ]Sgt dangerous quicksands give her cause to 
 
 weep — 
 He? sails expanded, and her port in view — 
 Tier acclamations, and her hopes renew ; 
 
 ■cighs her anchor, and her perils c: 
 She gains the shores of everlasting peace ; 
 
 re troubles end in lands of sweet repose, 
 BehoMswith pleasure how she.'scap'cl her -• 
 
 cs her treasure, as she gains the prize, 
 And 'sings her blissful fortune in the skies. 
 
 Is this Aleinda ? Will she hear mj. 
 .r the strains of IV 
 
221 
 
 " The gifts of nature and of grace combine, 
 To make her virtue and her beauty shine ; 
 While thus adorn'd, I'll sing her worthy name. } 
 And hope high heaven. will record her fame. 
 
 A VISION, 
 
 Representing a view of the different parties of 
 religion, and their conduct towards each other. 
 
 ASCENDING on a mountain high, 
 
 I saw the distant scene, 
 Extending onward to the sky, 
 
 Nor clouds to intervene. 
 
 Around" the place I wond'ring stood, 
 
 Arose a cooling spring, 
 Which ran along the shady wood, 
 
 Where birds wild anthems sing., 
 
 I tasted of the waters there, 
 
 And to my great surprise, 
 An instant banish'd all my care, 
 
 And quick'nd both my eyes! 
 
 I felt my inward strength increase, 
 And heal'd was ev'ry wound ; 
 
 1 felt a cure from all disease, 
 > T y sense was strong and souncL 
 
220 
 
 1 then beheld far off before^ 
 
 A field extensive there ; 
 I saw a thousand sheep, or more^ 
 
 Along the brooks repair. 
 
 1 went toward that pleasant plai% 
 
 And on the margin stood ; 
 I yet had felt no inward pain, 
 
 Nor thought of aught but good, 
 
 But here a thousand thoughts arose. 
 
 To make new pains arise ; 
 I saw the cause of many woes— 
 
 The cause of weeping eyc2. 
 
 I saw the cots and houses stand, 
 
 Thick crowded on the place, • 
 There men abode, and gave command, 
 
 To all the sheep-fold race. 
 A wall enclosed this pleasant ground y 
 
 But broken look d the wall — 
 -Twas first intended as the bound, 
 
 Of sheep and shepherds alL 
 I look'd within, and did behold, 
 
 An unsuspected scene : 
 Innumerous fences new and old, 
 
 Cross to and fro the green. 
 In ev'ry field I saw some sheep, 
 
 And there a shepherd too ; 
 
I 
 
 ...wn he'd watch and try to kt 
 
 And only this h.eM do. 
 But most of all what pained ray heart. 
 
 I heard the lambkins mourn, 
 In ev'ry fold there seem'd a smart, 
 
 A countenance forlorn. 
 rh^j were one fold, all in one plain, 
 
 But were asunder driv'n ; 
 And now they vent their grief and pain, 
 
 And mourn from morn till eve'n. 
 Tho' separated by a fence, 
 
 They lov'd their likeness still, 
 They told their love by instinct sense, 
 
 And moirrn'd their broken will. 
 1 saw the sheep would often try, 
 
 To push the fences down, 
 That they might all together lie, 
 
 And all their sorrows drown . 
 But shepherds, constant watching there, 
 
 Would fright them soon away ; 
 And strong their fences would repair, 
 
 Lest they should go astray. 
 Another cause of grief I sawj 
 
 The shepherds disagreed ; 
 Each had a rule and sep'rate law, 
 
 His flock along to lead. 
 
230 
 
 Tiic shepherds clamor' d — often faugh U 
 
 Alarm'd their flocks so tame, 
 The cause of this I serious sought, 
 
 And found it to their shame. 
 
 When lambs were yean'd inthis one's fold. 
 
 He'd sing the shepherds lay, 
 But that one then would be so bold, . 
 
 He'd steal the lambs away. 
 
 A sharp dispute would then ensue, 
 
 Sometimes a bloody fight, 
 The strongest would the theft pursue, 
 
 And boast his conq'ring might. 
 
 This one proclaims the wicked deed. 
 
 And shouts aloud his joy, 
 When 'he beholds his brother bleed, 
 
 Or can his peace destroy. 
 That one,tho'.vanquish c d, threats his foe, 
 
 Returns him all the pain ; 
 From fold to fold each one would go, 
 
 To pilfer o'er the plain. . 
 Each shepherd mark'd his tender lambs, 
 
 And taught them what to do ; 
 The folds were known by diff'rent names, 
 
 And sep'rate pastures knew. 
 J saw some pastures eaten bare, 
 
 The sheep were poor and lean; 
 
Briers and burrs were plenty there. 
 
 They then would try to leave their bounds 
 
 For better pastures try. 
 But shepherds guarding well their grounds^ 
 
 Would chase them hack to die. 
 Long time I look.d — I sought to find, 
 
 If I could learn the c a 
 Why shepherds did such burdens bind, 
 
 And urge such rigid laws.- 
 I understood the shepherds were, 
 
 Engag d for wages high, 
 Theygain'd their bread and raiment there, 
 
 And did their wants supply. 
 
 They'd shear their flocks & keep the fleece, 
 
 And sell it out for gain, 
 And thus their store they did increase — 
 
 Grew pompous, proud and vain. 
 No wonder then, thought I, for true, 
 
 The shepherds were so mean, 
 Why the}' should keep their flocks in two, 
 
 And why their flocks so lean. 
 For o'er the plain 1 heard a sound, 
 
 The shepherds were amazM — 
 A gen'ral clamor went around, 
 
 A nd I astonisl i 
 
238 
 
 Some men had entered on. the pl;<.,. 
 
 Tlieir words around me run; 
 They sounded loud the melting strain : 
 
 " We've come to make you one." • 
 These men a^pear^d in shepherd's dress. 
 
 They bore the shepherd's rod ; 
 They wore the 2-arb of righteousness, 
 
 And look'd like men of God. 
 
 Some had a torch of burning flame, 
 
 To burn each fence away, 
 The fire confusM and put to shame, 
 
 The hirelings all the day. 
 Some took the sword and soon began 
 
 To make the hirelings bleed — 
 The hirelings musterM all their clan, 
 
 For once they all agreed ! 
 They chose to fight against a few, 
 
 Bat soon they fled away; 
 They were unarrn'd and cowards too, 
 
 And trembled with dismay. 
 Those valiant men, like men of God, 
 
 Triumphant march d along; 
 They burnt the fences far abroad, 
 
 Nor fear'd the threading throng. 
 They sounded loud the message sweet? 
 
235 
 
 ••That cvVy fold should quickly nicety 
 And dwell in peace and love. 1 ' 
 
 The sheep from different folds begun 
 
 To gather round the place, 
 Where they wepe taught to be but one, 
 
 And feed on richer grace. 
 
 A fold soon gatherM and was large, 
 
 At first the sheep were bare ; 
 Those men, as shepherds, took the charge, 
 
 To nurse and feed them there. 
 
 The shepherds left their houses, lands, 
 
 And all on earth beside, 
 To tend. uv, on this flocks demands, 
 
 And for its w r ants provide. 
 
 They led the sheep thro' frosts and snow, 
 
 0\v hill and dale they went, 
 Refresh'd them where sweet waters flow, 
 
 And thus their time they spent. 
 
 The c e men were often hungry, cold, 
 
 Grew weary, poor and faint ; 
 They took no fleece from off the fold, 
 
 Were silent in complaint. 
 
 This fold incre ased — spread o'er the green, 
 The sheep were fat and strong ; 
 
234 
 
 Then I beheld another scene, 
 Of something cruel, wrong. 
 
 The men who fed them shortly pin'd, 
 
 In poverty and pain, 
 They saw the sheep were not inclin'dy 
 
 To give them of their gain. 
 
 The faithful shepherds were but few, 
 
 The sheep would not obey ; 
 They wanton'd on the shepherd's due, 
 
 And thus they went astray. 
 
 Ah !' cruel sheep, responded I, 
 
 Ungrateful and unkind, 
 To see your worthy shepherds die, 
 
 For them no raiment find. 
 
 They spent their time and money too. 
 To save you from your grief, 
 
 But now they find no love from you, 
 To give them blest relief. 
 
 Now give your shepherds what you owe,. 
 
 And then they'll lead you on ; 
 Qr else you'll soon return to woe, 
 
 Be destitute — forlorn. 
 
EPISODE, 
 
 To the memory of Elder JoscjiJl JVcsmith o/Va> 
 LE r the proud muse delight herself to raise, 
 The names of heroes to immortal pr 
 Let her record the wonders (hey have done, 
 "What feats achieved <fc batih won, 
 
 An humble ,m use shall now vibrate the lyre, 
 My bosom swell, and all my theme inspire 
 To tell the thousands — thousands yet unborn? 
 The heavenly virtues that my friend adorn. 
 
 My God conviuc'd him in his sportive youth, 
 The ways of error, and the force of truth, 
 Andturn'dthe current of his mind away 
 From all the sins of this adulterous day. 
 He cloth'd him meekly with his mantling love. 
 And touchM his lips with hadlow'd lire above; 
 God £aye command that he should now de- 
 clare, 
 Andfar abroad the name of Jesus bear: 
 Jlis mind enraptur'd with celestial views, 
 With meek consent the heavenly call pui 
 Apostle-like, untaught in priestly school-. 
 Nor fill/l with jargon, known in priestly rule- ; 
 He deals the word direct, by Jesus giv o, 
 And noints us out the narrow way to heav'n. 
 His mind capacious — richly stor'dwith -» 
 
236 
 
 Sublimely spars with charming eloquence. 
 He paints creation in poetic strain?, 
 Describes the beauties of the flow'ry plains; 
 And tells the grandeur of the rising hills, 
 The copious riveis and the gliding rills. 
 Like birds of lofty -wing in airy haste, . 
 Ascending high above the world's broad waste^ 
 To shun a storm from thund'ring skies below, 
 And seek a rest that none but they can know; 
 So he with rapt'rous wing yet more sublime, 
 Devoutly soars above our. stormy clime, 
 And seems to travel in the regions where 
 He plucks, and wears ambrosial laurels there j 
 In strains seraphic he his message tells, 
 And like a flood, his flowing bosom swells. 
 He seems to ope the golden gates of bliss, 
 To shew the saints, who bask in endless peace ; 
 He tells the glorirs of the eternal throne, 
 in transports sweet, and language all his own. 
 
 Like eagles wing their far etherial flight, 
 Above the meaner birds from mortal sight ; 
 He mounts aloft on wings sublimely high, 
 And brings glad tidings from the upper sky. 
 
 I His art is simple, and his language chaste, 
 And all his metaphors seem rightly plac'd ; 
 His gestures suited to the theme he tells, 
 
l-'iora reason cool to burning: rapture swells; 
 He pours the torrent of his soul around, 
 On all who listen in amaze profounoV 
 Like flowing strca ms increase their il ow'ry sides, 
 And form, at least, extensive sea-like tides; 
 So have his flowing accents sweetly rung, 
 And heav'nly strains increas'd upon his tongue, 
 He seems acquainted with the human mind, 
 With logic and philosophy combin d; 
 He shows the nature of immortal laws, 
 That God's the author of effect and cause; 
 Dead matter can't produce itself and live, 
 In thousand forms like we behold it thrive ; 
 Nor could mere chance together dumb & blind- 
 Transform her image into Newton's mind. 
 And as we see all matter round us grow, 
 In bodies move and in the waters (low, 
 As suns illume and globes revolve in space, 
 And none can leave their orbit's destin'd place ; 
 A pow'r must form, a pow l r divine control. 
 The myriad worlds that in wide ether roll; 
 All nature speaks, and loud declares a God, 
 Who form'd and rules the Universe abroad. w 
 
 In him our God has humbled human pride. M 
 In him, the christian tempers all abide; 
 i And like resplendent jew< 
 
233 
 
 When smooth 1 J and polished from the diamond 
 
 mine; ^ , 
 
 The things of earth, he would esteem as dross, 
 And glory only in a Saviour's cross. 
 
 The world's deceit — her clamors on his name, 
 Her tongue of slander, and her tongue of fame, 
 Can never 'luie this humble man of prayer, 
 To taste again her poisoned pleasures there; 
 The wealth he seeks is not of sordid dust, . 
 Nor gold that cankers, nor the hoards that rust ; 
 He's plac'd his treasure in the upper skies — 
 Eternal life is Ms immortal prize. 
 He lives by faith, by faith he sees theland, 
 Where faithful saints with crowns of glory 
 
 stand ; 
 A blissful portion he enjoys below, 
 And tastes the pleasures sinners never know. 
 
 He preaches freedom in the Saviour's name, 
 To cheerless captives sunk in lawless shame ; 
 He opes the gospel like expanded gates, 
 Where boundless grace for starving thousands 
 m waits — 
 
 Declares the gospel is the rule of life, 
 0110 bonds of union free from war and strife ; 
 For church discipline, 'twas by Jesus given. 
 Tortilo and srcridp thrbieft born sons of JtcaV-s-.' 
 
139- 
 
 His soul abhors tho rage for party nami 1 ?. 
 That kindles passion - into fearful (lames ; 
 And separates the fold asunder wide — 
 That makes the christians in their forms divide ; 
 He loud proclaims that christian union sweet, 
 Where all distinctions in one int'rest meet; 
 Where useless forms and names are done away, 
 And saints rejoice and all together pray. 
 
 Go on my brother — preach the word of God, 
 May Jesus guard you in the heavenly road ; 
 I'll follow on, and meet you in the land, 
 Where we'll rejoice in one celestial band , 
 
 -v \ v • 
 
 THE DEVIL ADVERTISED. 
 A BUSY body in the land, 
 
 Goes wand'ring up and down ; 
 The schemy scoundrel long has plann'd, 
 
 To gain a great renown. 
 I cannot give a full detail 
 
 Of features, nor Ins size ; 
 But I am told he has a tail, 
 
 A face and ears and eyes. 
 His mouth they say is monstrous widfl* 
 
 And like a cat his claws ; 
 A human voice a shaggy hide, 
 
 His (<'(:+ like Lion's | 
 
240 
 
 It is supposed he has two wings, 
 
 And like an ea^le flies, 
 O'er all the world, he knows all things. 
 
 And wiser than the wise. 
 He like an angel oft appears, 
 
 And with a lovely face, 
 Pretends to shed a flood of tears, 
 . And mourns our wretched race. 
 He's very social and polite, 
 
 Converses free and loud ; 
 He's busy all the day and nisrbt, 
 
 To charm and lead the crowd. 
 His parentage is yet unknown, 
 
 And none can tell his birth ; 
 In his descent he was alone, 
 
 And has no kin on earth. 
 But tho he's old, he c s very gay y 
 
 And handsome, tall and straight; 
 He courts the fair without dismay, 
 
 On them he's fond to wait. 
 And they are fond tho' strange to tellj 
 
 That he should join their train ; 
 And none can please them half so well- 
 
 Of him but few complain. 
 He visits them in private rooms. 
 so familiar there 
 
241 
 
 That like a husband he presumes, 
 To fondle with the fair. 
 
 He often helns them when they dress, 
 He makes their corset boards, 
 
 He pins their ruffles — gives caress, 
 Officious aid affords. 
 
 When ladies gather round their tea, 
 
 In fashionable style ; 
 He visits there in merry dee, 
 
 And cheers them up the while. 
 
 He's foremost therein telling news, 
 
 He tattles all he knows ; 
 And deals out slander and abuse, 
 
 Destruction on his foes. 
 
 He tries his quests to entertain, 
 And tells what neighbors do ; 
 
 Of them he always will complain, 
 In slanders old and new. 
 
 He travels tar from east to west, 
 
 And visits high and low ; 
 He drives from thousands all their rest, 
 
 And fills their hearts with woe. 
 
 -He boasts his courage and his skilly 
 In battles, blood and fight ; 
 L 
 
on hi- thousands he call 
 And put hi? foes to r!L 
 
 He love? a dram, and often drinks 
 
 A drunkard's double share ; 
 He staggers, swears and often sinks. 
 
 In mud and scandal there. 
 
 Ah 1 then he raves and storms along, 
 
 And threatens all around ; 
 But -oon he feels amid the throng, 
 
 His head upon the ground. 
 
 He is a hypocrite I say, 
 
 for 1 can well declare, 
 When saints collect to sine: and pray , 
 
 I have beheld him there. 
 
 lie sometimes groans and shouts aloud, 
 
 No one so good as he ; 
 But qickly when he leaves the cr 
 
 He'll wron? and slander thee. 
 
 He often fills the solemn place, 
 Where preachers ought to stand ; 
 
 Presumes to publish heavenly gn ■ 
 To sinners o'er the land, 
 
 - a Fatalist you know. 
 His doctrin 
 
Predestinates a parttowoe T 
 And some to realms of day. 
 
 He thus deceives the heart of man. 
 
 Persuades him all is well ; 
 And leads him in this wicked plan. 
 
 Along the road to hell. 
 
 He is a Lawyer — often pleads, 
 
 The guilty must go clear ; 
 Disputes and suits, and quarrels bi 
 
 Without remorse or fear. 
 
 lie seems expert in all the arts, 
 He laughs and he can weep ; . 
 
 He's always arm'd with hidden dart 7 . 
 And haunts where misers sleep. 
 
 He is a liar and a cheat, 
 
 A gambler and a rake ; 
 And with the proud he has a seat, 
 
 He never will forsake. 
 
 He is a thiefn.ru}. robber too, 
 
 He robb'd me of my all, 
 And I am left as beggars do, 
 
 Upon my knees to fall. 
 
 J can't describe the dress he v. 
 changes every 
 
£44 
 
 "When for the church, in black prepares, 
 Ami ruffles for the play. 
 
 His name I cannot fully tell, 
 
 I've heard them call him "Devil" ; 
 
 "Old Sam,' "Old Boy" an "Imp of hell," 
 "The source and root of evil." 
 
 He has a mask upon his face, 
 By which he's better known ; 
 
 He bears the letters of disgrace, 
 For blackest crimes, his own. 
 
 If any one will safely bind, 
 
 And bring him to the squire ; 
 \ thousand dollars he shall find, 
 
 And more if he require. 
 Confine him close within some jail, 
 
 Nor let him loose again ; 
 Sweet peace shall then o'er all prevail. 
 
 And bliss without a pain. 
 
 Thoughts ois* the 39th chapt. of Job, 
 
 IN wind and storm the dreadful God de= 
 scends, 
 And speaks to Job, while Job with awe attends ; 
 His son'rous words, like ten-fold thunders 
 sound, 
 
245 
 
 Shrill thro 1 the air, and shake the smould'riin; 
 
 Presumptuous Job, to speak against thy God, 
 To murmur at nay sore avenging rod. 
 
 Gird up thy loins, before my presence' stand, 
 And answer if thou canst, when I demand; 
 Look round the earth, then view the spacious 
 
 sky, 
 What boundless wonders fill the roving eye. 
 No chance directed, but the works divine, 
 That forrnM the globe, and made the planeta 
 
 shine; 
 Thou canst not know, till I reveal to you, 
 How first wide nature's fields arose to view. 
 Trace up effects, search out the latent cause, 
 The First is found by universal laws, 
 This is the source whence ali creation came, 
 Jehovah self-existent, God the name, 
 
 I sooke, chaotic darkness fled away, 
 And light effulgent, formV, the coming day; 
 I laid creation's first foundation stone, 
 And rearM tbe temple by my strength alone; 
 I roll'il confusion, and disorder far, 
 An I hush'd forever the chaotic war. 
 The air 1 parted from the solid earth, 
 And 'ire and water form'd the living birth ; 
 "With compass vast I scrib'd an ample round, 
 
 A 
 
240 
 
 And form-d the measure of the rising grou 
 
 I stretch-d afar the Equinoxial line, 
 
 The Orient light forever there to shine; 
 
 I pois'd the earth in atmospheric air, 
 
 And bade it roll within its orbit there. 
 
 From West to East I bade it fly along, 
 
 And to this motion day and night belong; 
 
 I fix'd its axis in the steady poles — 
 
 As it revolves and round its circuit rolls, 
 
 The seasons turn, to change the earth's green 
 
 robe, 
 And bear their balmy sweets around the globe I 
 I furrow'd deep, and cleft its ample side, 
 And there the waters roll their rapid tide. 
 I rent her bowels — scoop-d a dreadful steep. 
 Where scaly monsters swim the wond'rous 
 
 deep ;' 
 I closM the dark reces3 from mortal sight, 
 And hid her wonders in eternal night ; 
 The' she may toss her waves immensely high, 
 And lash the summit of the lofty sky ; 
 The furious winds may on her hospm blow, 
 But she can never pass her bounds below; 
 Her raging billows die at my command , 
 And spend their fury on the reeking sand ; 
 Thus far thy flowing tide may come, 1 
 
 -re thy proudest a 
 
247 
 
 1 now demand of thee, and canst thou tell, 
 Whocaus'd the day, and where the light doth 
 
 dwell ? 
 Who gave command for morning light to spring, 
 And fly abroad on universal wing 1 
 To gild the horrors of the western skies, 
 Thence Ebon darkness from her chambers flies. 
 Where stop the cheering beams of rosy light, 
 That rend the curtains of the sable nisht ? 
 Th' adoring savage sees the blazing flood, 
 And flies the vengeance of his guilt and blood ; 
 Hast thou researched the bottom of the main? 
 Or known the place where Leviathans rei 
 Did thy adventurous foot traverse the path, 
 That leads to all her dismal gates of death! 
 Canst thou declare why she remains so low, 
 While thousand rivers in her bosom flow? 
 Is it her centre or her bed that sink ? 
 That keeps her even with the flowing brinks? 
 Canst thou declare these strange phenomena, 
 And tell where all her rivers flow away 1 
 
 The human heart contains the crimson flood 
 Where circulate a thousand streams of blood \ 
 In the leftside I Dlac'd the ventricle, 
 And mark'd the route, the great canal, 
 Where flows the blood receiv'd in thousand 
 
 tubes, 
 Tc all extremes the current thus protrn 
 
248 
 
 At the extremes of this constructed frame, 
 I plac'd the valves to play their constant game 
 The art ries hence, like copious rivers flow, 
 Receive their portion from the distant toe, 
 And oour the torrent in the trembling heart, 
 The living: current glides thro' ev'ry part; 
 The heart receives, the heart conveys away, 
 The thousand streams that thro the system 
 
 So have I placed in ocean^s secret bed, 
 A thousand channels which are ever fed, 
 With copious torrents from the mother main r 
 Which fill forever ev 1 ry distant vein. 
 Those secret streams convey the tide away, 
 Anil burst their passage into open day. 
 This is the source whence all the rivers flow, 
 Or cooling brooks that glide the earth below; 
 The si rings replenish from the distant main, 
 And rinds a passage and returns again! 
 
 Hast thou beheld the horrors of the gates? 
 Where ghastly death with his pale trophies 
 
 waits! 
 Canst thou inform where his dread spoils are 
 
 laid, 
 In lands Elysian? Or Tartarian shade? 
 Where <:roan the wicked who despis'd then 
 God? 
 
249 
 
 Where stay the righteous, in what blest abode? 
 Has this fell monster swept them ail away, 
 And laid them level in a tomb of clay? 
 Have kings anil beggars here together met? 
 Do slaves and tyrants with each other set? 
 Do they promiscuous in sad silence sleep, 
 Where none rejoice and all forget to ween? 
 Do they pass on and leave their first abode?, 
 And rise and glow, and live in other modes? 
 And transmutated in a thousand forms, 
 Do they exist in fish, or beasts, or worms? 
 The sceptic mind would feign believe it true, 
 But truth divine I'll now reveal to you. 
 
 Tho' Death may conquer in a thousand fields, 
 And strip the soldier of his boasted shields ; 
 Tho' he may sweep the wide extended earth., 
 Oft v'ry grade and ev'ry different birth, 
 And sate his sable mansions with the slain, 
 I'll conquer him and let the righteous reign ! 
 Poor cow r ard man too oft regrets to die, 
 Unknown, untaught where he's destin'd to fly; 
 Great death leads forth the righteous to repose, 
 Where they forget this warring world of woes, 
 They seem to slumber till they hear the sound : 
 "Arise ye nations underneath the ground!*' 
 "Tis then they'll mount, on high celestial wing, 
 L2 
 
 A 
 
250 
 
 And say <0 ! death where is thy boasted sting?' 
 Not so the wicked — when they close their eyes. 
 In hopeless sorrow, and dispairing cries, 
 Death's gloomy shade redoubles all their pains, 
 Their souls are anguish'd where grim darkness 
 
 reigns ; 
 Their conscious guilt awakes their troubled 
 
 souls, 
 And points them where their fiercer anguish 
 
 rolls. 
 
 Their dreams are frightful in their dark abode, 
 They fear the stroke of some avenging rod * 
 And when they hear the last-day trumpet 
 
 sound, 
 They'll burst the barriers of their gloom pro- 
 found ; 
 The conscious guilt in which they left the world, 
 When they behold the Prince of grace unfurl'd, 
 Shall fast increase in that terrific hour, 
 As he displays his justice and his pow r r. 
 
 I'll summon death from his triumphal car, 
 And raise his conquer' d millions from afar ; 
 The trembling monster shall no longer boast, 
 His blood and carnage, and his num'rous host, 
 I'll blot his mem'ry from the book of fame, 
 To cease forever in eternal sbame ; 
 I then will reign thro' all the realms abroad- 
 And shining millions own mc for their God 
 
251 
 
 Hast thou traversed the surface of the globe, 
 Or seen the beauties of her verdant robe ? 
 Hast thou beheld her far sequester d shade, 
 Where howling horrors and thick gloom per* 
 
 vade ? 
 Didst thou ascend the mountain-s lofty brow, 
 To view the landscape interspersed below? 
 Who form'd the hills, or hast the mountains 
 
 drawn, 
 And stretch'd the margin of the flow'ry lawn? 
 Who rear'd the rocks, projected far in air? 
 No human foot can ever venture there ! 
 Hast thou beheld the wond'rous scene afar, 
 From east to west and to the polar star? 
 Canst thou declare where earths far distance 
 
 ends? 
 Or how her circuit to the centre blends? 
 Where is the road, point out the wond'rous way 
 To the fair chambers of effulgent day? 
 Where are the floods of ever flowing light, 
 That blaze resplendence on the raptur'd sight? 
 
 Farewell to youth — an allegory. 
 FAREWELL to beauty, blooming flow'rs, 
 
 And all their sweet delight — 
 To pebb'ly brooks and shady bowT=. 
 And alltha* charm the sigl 
 
 A 
 
252 
 
 Those blooming months are roll 4 d away, 
 
 W hen songs attun'd the plain; 
 Far tied the sweet perennial day, 
 
 '( hat sooth'd the rising pain. 
 Cold winter now with horrid gloom, 
 
 Comes raving through the air, 
 And strips the earth of all her bloomy 
 
 And leaves it sad and bare! 
 The rural rustic nightly hears, 
 
 The iErial storms arise ; 
 Tumultuous noise invades his ears* 
 
 And rumbles round the skies. 
 The forests groan in silent night, 
 
 To Warn the world of pain. 
 The skulking beasts in wild affright, 
 
 fecud fast along the plain. 
 How fair the morning of my day. 
 
 When ev'ry cloud withdrew; 
 Enchanting flow rs allurM my way, 
 
 And the soft zephyr blew. 
 The landscape open'd far and wide. 
 
 Where ev'ry beauty grew, 
 And youthful pleasure's flowing tide, 
 
 Extended in my view. 
 Tho=e pleasant hour* I thought would stav^ 
 
 The flowers forever bloomy 
 
253 
 
 T little thought the rising: day, 
 Would close in sullen gloom. 
 
 But O ! the mid-day sun withdrew, 
 The darkling clouds came on — 
 
 The stormy winds in fury blew, 
 All nature looked forlorn ' 
 
 The dreadful storm around the sky 3 
 
 In burning lightning flew ; 
 The bending forests gave a sigh, 
 
 And I stood trembling too. 
 
 Amid the gloom I heard a groan, 
 
 It hollow whisp'ring said : 
 u The pleasures of thy youth are flown^ 
 
 Thy golden dreams are fled." 
 
 I look'd around with sad surprise, 
 And saw the plain was bare ; 
 
 The flow'rs had faded in my eyes, 
 And ev'ry beauty there. 
 
 The rose had withered and the thorn. 
 
 On ev'ry brier grew ; 
 I felt alarm M and faint, forlorn, 
 
 When far my comfort flew. 
 
 My heart waspain\l and full of woe= 
 I felt no true delight ; 
 
254 
 
 The howling winds remain'd to blow. 
 
 My day was turn'd to night. 
 Farewell to youth, to former joys, 
 
 Anchmy companions gay ; 
 ? Tis withered age my peace destroy?, 
 
 And points me to the clay. 
 
 i'O'i 
 
 DAMON AND ELLEN. 
 
 Two neighboring, youths, raised in rural life, 
 became imperceptibly fond of each other; and 
 when grown to maturity, they cherished a con- 
 jugal passion for each other, which being dis- 
 covered, was reciprocated with mutual ardor. 
 Their engagements were made and kept sacred. 
 While Damon was on a mercantile adventure, 
 Ellen, with her parents, removed to a remote 
 and distant section of the West. 
 
 Seven tedious years rolled away before Da- 
 mon heard where his Ellen resided. During 
 this time, his passion for her had not subsided, 
 nor had given place to another. He immediate- 
 ly repaired to where the sovereign of his heart 
 abode. The result is what follows : 
 
 SOME tedious years had roll ; d away, 
 And brought the long expected day, 
 
 And fortune to the pair ; 
 The damsel saw young Damon wait. 
 A moment at the op'ning gate, 
 
 And ran and met him there. 
 
255 
 
 Tier form renew'd a thousand charms, 
 She fell within his closing arms, 
 
 And heard him thus address : 
 i: 0\ heav'n be thank'd, how kind to me, 
 The angel of my soul I see, 
 
 And feel the rapture! bliss." 
 "Thou art the prize I long have sought, 
 1 warmly lovM in ev'ry thought, 
 
 And long'd to own thee mine ;" 
 She softly said u my love is true, 
 DetachVl from all, and kept for you, 
 
 My heart is warm as thine. *' 
 Few days were pass'd — the promise made, 
 On which their union should be laid, 
 
 And free consent was giv'n ; 
 The house was cheerful, all was gay, 
 The lovers nam'd the wedding day, 
 
 The day of earthly heav n. 
 Now Damon thought his bliss complete, 
 Nor knew how nigh his dread defeat, 
 
 Nor what would be his doom ; 
 The night before the wedding came, 
 c The bride is sick,' they loud proclaim, 
 
 And sad was all the room ! ! 
 
 The morning light again appeared, 
 And lamentations then were beard* 
 For Ellen just had died ! 
 
JL5* 
 
 O ! what a scene we now behold, 
 
 The damsel lies an image cold, 
 
 And Damon's lost his bride. 
 
 In afternoon as fashions were, 
 Young Damon came to wed the fair ? 
 
 But O ! his sad surprise ; 
 The doleful tidings hail his ears, 
 And burst the torrents of his tears, 
 
 From both his streaming eyes. 
 
 ; 0! dreadful change,' he loudly cried, 
 'Stern death has torn from me my bride* 
 
 And left me to despair;' 
 Long time he told his piteous grief, 
 And swoon'd away without relief, 
 
 No longer could he bear. 
 
 The coming day with solemn step, 
 He saw the place, he loudly wept, 
 
 Where Ellen now remains; 
 He oft exclaimed, l O could I die, 
 Beneath cold clods with Ellen lie, 
 
 With her be freed from pains.' 
 
 *I will renounce the world, 1 he said, 
 -And seek a far sequesterM shade, 
 And pour my sorrows there ; 
 
201 
 
 Bosirle some lonesome, trickling stream, 
 Where fairies haunt, and ;>oets dream, 
 Let me ray burden bear.' 
 
 He soon withdrew — I heard no more, 
 I cannot tell how long he bore, 
 
 The grief of Ellen's fate; 
 Tradition says, he sure was found, 
 A lifeless corpse, on distant ground, 
 
 Nor can I more relate. 
 
 Let tender hearts of love beware, 
 Nor covet more than they canbear^ 
 
 Lest they should fall a prey ; 
 Ah ! never think the prize is won, 
 Till the whole race is fully run, 
 
 And closM the nuptial day. 
 
 ON SOLITUDE. 
 YE silent shades I now have found ye, 
 
 Conceal me from the multitude ; 
 Enclose your leafy wreaths around me, 
 
 Nor let a vagrant foot intrude; 
 Here let me drink your cooling fountains, 
 
 And hear sweet birds attune their lays,. 
 Alonr the dells and rising mountains, 
 
 O ! let me hear what wisdom says. 
 
258 
 
 -Tishcre I long have wished to wa; nd 
 
 Far from the noisy scenes of life ; 
 O ! give me now some time to ponder, 
 
 And live secluded from all strife; 
 O let me build my cottage lowly, 
 
 And spend my life's short remnant here^ 
 And as I walk the green moss slowly, 
 
 I'll wipe away the world's cold tear. 
 Let others boast their carnal pleasure, 
 
 And feast on what the world contains. 
 I'll envy not their golden treasure, 
 
 Nor all the spoils of conquer'd plains; 
 Content with charms of nature's glory, 
 
 I'll seek no more of human pride, 
 Nor longer hear the fatal story, 
 
 Of those who swim her silv'ry tide. 
 
 The boasted soldier, long victorious, 
 All laurell'd o'er with rising fame, 
 
 Must soon beconquer'd — fall inglorious, 
 And hear no more his sounding name ; 
 
 The sreorgous monarch s — pride of nations, 
 The lords of all the earth below; 
 
 see them leave their pompous stations, 
 And down to dust and silence go. 
 
 1 see the forest leaves are faded, 
 
 And all the flow'ry plains decay, 
 
2ge, by foul diseases aided, 
 Turn pale and wither into clay $ 
 
 My moments like an arrow flying, 
 Convey me swiftly to the ground, 
 
 Soon my friends may «ee me dying, 
 And shed their needless tears around. 
 
 The stormy winds around me roaring, 
 
 Now strip the green leaf foilage bare, 
 Here as I sit this life deploring, 
 
 I see death's image travel there ; 
 What sweets, I ask, can earth afford me?- 
 
 In all her pomp and airy show ! 
 When crippled age with sorrows load me, 
 
 When death shall strike his fatal blow.- 
 Here in the mood of gloomy sadness, 
 
 O let me think of future time ; 
 Herelet me rise in silent gladness. 
 
 While I survey your heavenly -lime; 
 There cease those sorrows, tears and signing^ 
 
 That fill my heart with bursting jrrief, 
 There sound those songs of christians vying. 
 
 Who find salvation and relief. 
 
 \I/M/ 
 
 MORTALITY. 
 O! MOURNFUL child of mortal birth, 
 Whence hast thou hither ca 
 
260 
 
 Thou hast descended from the earth. 
 
 Corruption is thy name. 
 The gloom that hangs upon thy brow, 
 
 The tears that wet thine eyes, 
 Proclaim thy sorrows here below, 
 
 And tell thy inward sighs. 
 I've seen the rose in beauty shine, 
 
 Its leaves were green and gay — 
 A thousand tints together join, 
 
 To deck the vernal day. 
 But lo! I shortly looked again, 
 
 Alas! the bloom had fled ; 
 Nor did it stay in all the plain, 
 
 So far its glory sped. 
 So rising youth may bloom to-day, 
 
 But soon the bloom shall fade, 
 Hach beauty quickly pass away, 
 
 In mouldering urns be laid. 
 The grove produced a stately tree, 
 
 Its arms extended wide; 
 The trunk was strong as oaks could be. 
 
 An 1 long the storms defied. 
 But I returned and looked around, 
 
 Its umbrage died away, 
 The wither'd leaves upon the ground* 
 
 Proclaimed a sad decay. 
 
2GI 
 
 So man I've seen display his pride , 
 His grandeur, pompand ow'r; 
 
 But - ; non he withered mourn'd and died, 
 Amid his blooming hour. 
 
 ON MY OLD PEN. 
 GO you scrub and rant no more, 
 Rest awhile and siee;> and snore; 
 £nd your labors and your motion, 
 Lest you sink in your blnck ocean. 
 
 Toil has made you rough and plain. 
 
 Neighbors say you -:ive them pain, 
 Some declare you touch and rub them, 
 Rurfian-like would wound and drub them. 
 
 Once your bill was ton h and long, 
 Dabbled much in prose and som;, 
 Harsh has been your broken measure, 
 Worth few thanks and less it tre tsure. 
 
 Raging like the storm that blows — 
 Murmuring at the faull 
 
 Making loud and dreadful ciattr r, 
 'Bout a small and trifling matter. 
 
 Need you care how others -in? 
 
 How they end, or how begin ? 
 Priests you say, the church oppresses^ 
 Need you feel for her distresses ? 
 
 No, my sir, were you to try, 
 Till you'd Famish, ?t*irve and die — ■ 
 Could you roar like Vulcan's thunders, 
 Still they'd hold their creeds and blunder?, 
 
, as you do in yei 
 Makes your case with theai the v 
 Tears provoke them up to ma 
 Scorning at your gloom and sadness. 
 
 Tear the mountains all away, 
 Plant them in the roaring sea ; 
 
 Then you may create the creature, 
 
 Form anew i lure. 
 
 But alas! you never can, 
 Turn the wayward course of man. 
 Give yourself no further trouble, 
 Lest you make your sorrows double. 
 
 Let creed makers take their way, 
 Like the gnats that swarm and play. 
 Let them push their Anti courses, 
 Death will end their feuds and forces. 
 
 This address'd, the feather said : 
 Thousands wish me dumb and d 
 But their threats and constant clamors, 
 Still increase my toils and stammer?. 
 
 Now 1 will lay down awhile. 
 Cease my travel and my toil, 
 If 1 sleep 1 will be dreaming, 
 
 Crazy brains will still be teeming 
 
 Rest is not design'd for me, 
 Sleep or wake. I yet must be 
 Thinking, when my slumber sender 
 
 i 
 
-A 
 
 
 INDEX 
 
 TO THE POE3IS. 
 
 On my new pen ... 
 
 An Elegy on R. Haggard 
 
 On winter « 
 
 The Rural Christian 
 
 Retirement 
 
 Polar Star 
 
 The Rose 
 
 A Dirge 
 
 A Thought on war 
 
 The Vernal Season 
 
 An Evening thought 
 
 Thoughts on Retirement 
 
 tU Apostrophe to the Evening Star * 
 
 The Wonders of Creation 
 
 fc prayer in trouble 
 
 3de on the Primeval ages 
 
 The allurements of the world forsaken 
 
 }de to Spring 
 
 Vn Apostrophe to the Moon 
 
 The world turned Peacock 
 
 Sigotry reproved 
 
 Vomau 
 
 125 
 
 128 
 
 130 
 
 132 
 
 133 
 
 138 
 
 139 
 
 141 
 
 143 
 
 146 
 
 149 
 
 150 
 
 151 
 
 15:2 
 
 155 
 
 156 
 
 158 
 
 160 
 
 l«l 
 163 
 
 166 
 
2t>* 
 
 An Elegy on Mrs. Diana Gowdy , 170 
 
 Description of Night - - 173 
 
 A reflection on reading History - 176 
 
 An Elegy on Mrs. Nesmith - - 177 
 
 Old \ge - - - 181 
 
 A dream, such as Poets feign - 182 
 
 On Thought - - 187 
 
 A word to the Fair - - 189 
 
 Dialogue - - 191 
 
 Apostrophe to Gen. Braddock • 195 
 
 Man — a complicated animal - 199 
 
 An address to the American Fair - 215 j 
 
 A Vision - - - ' 2271 
 
 Episode - - 235 j 
 
 Devil advertised - - .2391 
 Thoughts on the 39th Chapt. of Job - 244 } 
 
 Farewell to youth — an Allegory - 251 
 
 Damon and Ellen - - 254 ] 
 
 On Solitude - - - 257 j 
 
 Mortality - - 2591 
 
 On my Old Pen - - 261 f 
 
 [NOTE. — In the preceding pages a few un= 
 important errors escaped the press, mostly typo-j 
 graphical, winch the reader will readily correcd 
 without special reference.] 
 

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