THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 AT CHAPEL HILL 
 
 THE COLLECTION OF 
 NORTH CAROLINIANA 
 
 ENDOWED BY 
 
 JOHN SPRUNT HILL 
 CLASS OF 1889 
 
 CB 
 
 PU7r 
 1892 
 
UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL 
 
 I 00032690776 
 
 FOR USE ONLY IN 
 THE NORTH CAROLINA COLLECTION 
 
 THIS TITLE HAS BEEN MICROFILMED 
 
 ; o.'ir. ,^o. A-iOS 
 
THE LIFE 
 
 OK 
 
 ROBERT PAIN 
 
 H 
 
 Bishop of tie Mettioflist Eiiiscopal Ctiiirct], SontL 
 
 BY R. H. RIVERS, D.D., 
 
 Author of "Our Young IVopIo" and " Mental and Moral riiilosophy.' 
 
 WITH AN INTROnrcTIOX HY 
 
 REV. yV. P. HARRISON, D.D., 
 
 tiook Editor of the M. E. Cliunh, South. 
 
 Nashvim,i% Tknn.: 
 
 Publishing IIoisk op thk M. K- Chikcu, South. 
 
 liAKBEii & Smith, Agknts. 
 
 1892. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the 5'ear 1S81, 
 
 Bt the Book Agents of the METiionisT Episcopal Chukoh, South, 
 
 in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
CI5 
 
 TO MARY AND MARTHA, 
 
 the former the faithful wife of the subject of this 
 
 biography, and the latter the equally faithful 
 
 wife of the author — devoted friends in their 
 
 early womanhood, and remaining true to 
 
 each other, to their husbands, and to 
 
 their god, through all the 
 
 vicissitudes of life — 
 
 This Volume is Most Lovingly Dedicated. 
 
 Co 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Bishop Paine, years before his death, selected the author as his 
 biographer on condition any biography should be written. He said: 
 " I am not worthy of any thing more than an obituary to l)e published 
 in our Church papers; but if my friends should think otherwise, I 
 would be glad that the work of writing my life be placed in your 
 hands. You have my entire confidence, and I am willing to trust 
 vou." He afterward wrote to me to the same effect. After his death 
 "the fiimily, knowing his views, requested that these vieAVS be carried 
 out. In addition to this, the Bishops, at their annual meeting in 
 May, 1883, concurred in the recpiest of the family. 
 
 In January, 1884, diaries and other papers were placed in my 
 hands, and in February the work was begun. A heavy charge was 
 on my hands. I had to devote a part of each day to pastoral visita- 
 tion. Two sermons were to be prepared for each Sabbath. A week- 
 ly prayer-meeting was to be attended to, at which a suitable talk was 
 to be delivered. All this demanded labor— earnest, constant, and 
 often exhausting. The diaries and papers were to be carefully ex- 
 amined. The work was completed on June 1. From February till 
 June I was in company with the Bishop. It seemed to me that he 
 was alwavs present. I was reminded of an artist who was called 
 upon to take the likeness of a deceased friend. He shut himself up 
 in his studio for days, and communed with his departed friend. That 
 friend came and sat for the picture. He saw him. He seemed to 
 converse with him. He caught the expression of his countenance, 
 the flash of his eye, and the contour of his features. The result was 
 an excellent likeness. It was life-like and exceedingly accurate. So 
 it has been with this writer. While alone in my office it has seemed 
 to me that ray dear old friend and teacher was again by my side, and 
 that I could almost hear him speak and touch his noble form. At 
 night he was present in my dreams. Indeed, I could not sleep. I 
 hardlv became unconscious for weeks. So near was he to me both by 
 
 (5) 
 
6 PREFACE. 
 
 day and by night that it was difficult for me to withdraw my atten- 
 tion from him. I showed this in the frequent references wliich I 
 made to him as 1 appeared before my people. My attention was 
 thoroughly engrossed. I accompanied him on his trips. I sat again 
 in the recitation-room and listened to his lectures, delivered in that 
 clear, ringing, musical voice which I can never forget. I listened 
 again to his thrilling sermons, or bowed with him in humble prayer. 
 I got nearer to liira than I ever did during his life. I could almost 
 hear the throbbings of his warm heart, and could see as I never saw 
 before his deep religious feelings. Into his inner life, and away down 
 into tlie deep chambers of his soul, I had constant and it seemed to 
 me perfect access. 
 
 Let not the reader misunderstand me. I am no spiritualist, no 
 enthusiast. I simply mean to say that I became so thoroughly and 
 so entirely absorbed in and with the subject of this biography that in 
 thought and feeling I was constantly with him during the months I 
 was engaged in writing the Life. I so expressed myself to some of 
 my friends at the time the work was going on. 
 
 To Mrs. Ludie Paine Scruggs the author is indebted for valuable 
 information in reference to that sad part of his life during which the 
 Bishop appears to have kept no regular diary. The book makes no 
 pretensions to give a history of the stirring times in which the Bish- 
 op lived. It is simply a Life of Bisho}) Paine ; and as a man is known 
 by the company he keeps, the characters of those most intimately as- 
 sociated with him are briefly presented. The incidents of his career 
 are usually given in chronological order, and embrace his whole life 
 from his early boyhood to his death at the advanced age of eighty- 
 three years. 
 
 The diaries and other papers furnished by the family have been 
 of invaluable assistance in the preparation of this biography. Every 
 fact narrated is believed to be in perfect accordance with the truth. 
 Whenever possible the exact Avords of the Bishop have been given. 
 When this was not possible, his ideas have been fully and accurately 
 expressed. I therefore ask a candid and charitable reading of this 
 Life of one of our foremost men, and pray that its perusal may be a 
 blessing to the reader. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The life of a great and good man is tlie property of the age in 
 which he lives. Wlien that life has heen spent in self-denying la- 
 bors, and earnest etibrt to advance the welfare of the human race, 
 the example should be recorded for the encouragement and instruc- 
 tion of those who come after us. In an age of utilitarian philoso- 
 phy, and in a country in which the worship of mammon has attained 
 such jiroportions as to threaten the existence of society itself, we can- 
 not afford to permit the benefactors of true civilization and progress 
 to pass away without monument or memorial of their works. 
 
 Making haste to be rich, and coveting the luxuries that only 
 wealth can purchase, the present generation of our countrymen are 
 placing too low an estimate upon the generous self-abnegation which 
 volinitarily resigns the rewards of successful enterprise and the ac- 
 cumulation of wealth for the purpose of devoting time, energy, and 
 talent to the moral and religious culture of the poor and needy. 
 The merchant, who employs every faculty in the acquisition of fort- 
 une, finds his reward in the deference and respect which the world 
 has always shown toward the possessor of great riches. The politi- 
 cian, who studies the arts and the principles which lead to success 
 in the political arena, obtains the desire of his heart and finds his 
 reward in the fickle praises Avhich seldom survive the brief liour of 
 official station. In the lives of all men who have attained success, 
 and have written their names upon the pages of history, there are 
 lessons of wisdom which may serve to guide the footsteps of others, 
 or to warn the ambitious aspirant of the dangers that lie in his path. 
 
 Tlie career of a Methodist preaclier does not ])resent to the super- 
 ficial observer a theme of absorbing interest. We may expect no 
 startling incidents, no "hair-breadth escapes," no profoundly excit- 
 ing records of heroic struggles, of battles fought and won. Yet there 
 is abundant material for the biographer and the historian in the life- 
 stories of men whose names are remembered only by the few faithful 
 
 (7) 
 
8 Introduction. 
 
 friends who valued them whilst living, and treasure their meuiories 
 when they have passed away. 
 
 The annals of a nation bear tlie names of the few wlio have 
 marched in the front of the army of progress. Tlie great body of 
 the army, to whose endurance, fortitude, and skill the victories are 
 due, are unknown to fame. The wisdom of the great statesman who 
 piloted the English ship of state through the storms and perils of 
 the French Revolution has been celebrated by the pens and tongues 
 of his countrymen. But there are only a few discerning men who 
 have the ability to see, and the candor to acknowledge, that the 
 Methodist preachers in Cornwall exercised a conservative influence 
 over the elements of revolutionary disturbance, and thus preserved the 
 English nation from the horrors of civil war and anarchy. The des- 
 titution and poverty which justified, in the eyes of many, the revolu- 
 tion in France, existed also in England. But in the British King- 
 dom a great man had been commissioned from on high, and he and 
 his followers preached the gospel of Christ to the poor, the neglected, 
 and the oppressed, and the hopes of heaven and eternal life sweetened 
 the bitter cup of human poverty and gave to the struggling poor of 
 England the power to endure with heroism the burdens of their lot. 
 Thus the Wesleyan Methodist preachers became the conservators of 
 peace and the prophets of a new and happier era, whilst William 
 Pitt stood at the front and received the credit for the stability and 
 permanence of British institutions. 
 
 To no class of men is American civilization more indebted than to 
 the itinerant Methodist preachers. They have been to a large ex- 
 tent the educators of the people. Following the footsteps of the 
 pioneer, the log meeting-house was the first building erected for the 
 use of the community at large by the zeal and fidelity of the itiner- 
 ant preacher. He carried to the remotest corners the message of 
 salvation. By liis instrumentality neighborhoods were bound togeth- 
 er in religious ties, and the ambition to excel in every department 
 of human effort was fostered by his precepts and example. Few 
 graduates of colleges were among these evangelists, but they were 
 students whose diligence and energy overcame all difiiculties. Early 
 opportunities for gaining knowledge they had not, but they improved 
 every moment of time; digested well the books they read, and em- 
 ployed for the highest purposes the learning they acquired. Their 
 advent was an era in the history of the little communities planted 
 in the great forests of the West and the South. A higher tone of 
 
Introduction. 9 
 
 public morals an.l a n(.l)kT outlook for life itself resulted from their 
 labors. They were lueu of the })eoi)le, and sj)<)ke the language of 
 the people, but that language was ennol)led and relined by the glo- 
 rious truths of the everlasting gospel. The Bible was the one book 
 found alike in the cottage and the home of the prosperous man. The 
 words of ins])iration became a part of the speech of common life, and 
 the doctrines of the Bible were the laws of society. 
 
 It is due to the truth of history to declare that the American pul- 
 pit has laid the foundation and constructed, in a large degree, the 
 edifice of civilization upon this continent. The school and the school- 
 master have followed the itinerant {preacher, but they have come 
 only in answer to the demand which has been created by the i)reach- 
 ers of the gospel. The high estimate in which the pioneer i)reach- 
 ers were held by the rude, adventurous, but enterprising settlers in 
 the wilderness was due to the intrinsic merits of these men of CJod. 
 Not a man among them had any expectation of acquiring money, 
 or social influence, or political power, by performing the duties of 
 the ministry. A life of poverty and toil, of hardship and self-denial, 
 presented itself at the threshold of his career, but the young 
 preacher's heart was aflame with the love of God, and the love of 
 Christ constrained him to labor for the souls of men. Feeling his 
 insufficiency for this great work, his constant appeal was to the 
 throne of grace, and the Holy Spirit clothed him with the armor 
 of a warrior, and he w^ent forth to victory. Conscious of his want 
 of literary acquirements, and knowing that the Holy Spirit imparts 
 no gifts to encourage human idleness, he seized every moment of 
 leisure to improve his mind. Books of real worth that were accessi- 
 ble to him he studied with diligence, and the knowledge acipiired 
 was given to the people whom he served. The example was conta- 
 gious. In every department of intellectual development and distinc- 
 tion, in all the walks of life, there are men who owe to the example 
 of these itinerant preachers the ambition to excel which has result- 
 ed in the highest and grandest victories, to the greatest benefit and 
 glory of the commonwealth. 
 
 Among those men who have become the chief factors in the sum 
 of moral and intellectual progress in this century, no name stands 
 higher than that of Eobcrt Paine. Beginning life with the dawn 
 of the nineteenth century, he has been a princij)al figure in ecclesi- 
 astical history for more than sixty years. A youth of great i)romise, 
 enjoying the few facilities of education accessible in his time, he de- 
 
10 Introduction. 
 
 voted himself to the work of the ministry. He came to legal manhood 
 and to full membership as an itinerant preacher nearly at the same mo- 
 ment. With tireless assiduity he applied himself to the acquisition 
 of knowledge. The lonely ride through the forest ; the cosy nook 
 in the cabin by tlie light of the blazing fire; the solitary spot Avhere 
 the overhanging boughs formed a grateful shade for his forest study — 
 everywliere and at every time, when public duties did not engross 
 his thoughts, he improved the opportunity for increasing his stores 
 of knowledge. He studied the great book of nature, and communed 
 with God whilst reading the volume of his works. Rocks, moimt- 
 ains, valleys, rivers, all had mysteries to be solved and lessons to 
 be learned. He learned them well, and brought their testimony to 
 the sujjport and vindication of the volume of inspiration. 
 
 He entered upon the work of the ministry in one of the most event- 
 ful periods of Methodist history. The American Revolution was a 
 protest against the establishment of monarchical institutions in 
 America, Jealousy of kings and kingly power and aristocratic 
 pride and presimiption had been deeply inwrought into the fabric 
 of American societ3\ The establishment of a government "of the 
 [>eople, by the people, and for the people," had created a distrust of 
 every proiK)sition in Cliurch or State which looked toward the cen- 
 tralization of power in the hands of one man, or in tliose of a few 
 men. Fearing the tyranny of one, communities often surrender 
 tliemselves to the tyranny of the many. It was very natural that 
 the republican politics of the nation should manifest itself in the 
 government of the Church. The English Bishop, with his seat in 
 the House of Lords — a temporal as well as spiritual ruler — Avas un- 
 known in America, except by the unenviable reputation which be- 
 longed to manv of the prelates in the mother countrv. But the 
 name was, in many quarters, the object of suspicion and dislike. Tbat 
 some prejudicesshould be formed against the Methodist Bishops in the 
 United States is by no means remarkable. The plea that a scriptural 
 name ought to be given to a scriptural office was sufficient with the 
 wise and the reflecting, but there were many intelligent men who, 
 for purposes of their own, found it profitable to use the prejudices of 
 tlie ignorant and the vicious. It required no little heroism in the 
 early Bishops of .\merican Methodism to face the criticisms of de- 
 signing men and the unreasoning opposition of the multitude. But 
 Francis Asbury was a man of nerve, and sustained l)y the conscious- 
 ness of a pure purpose, having the glory of (iod and the good of 
 
Introduction. 11 
 
 nicMi only in viow, ho omlured misrepresentation and petty malice 
 and merciless persecution as a man wlio had a charge committed to 
 him by the great Head of the Clnirch. 
 
 Early in tlie last decade of the eighteenth centnry, James O'Kelly 
 had withdrawn from the jNIethodist Church, and the standard of re- 
 volt, which he set up had many followers. He claimed that the i)Ower 
 of api)ointing the preachers to their circuits and stations ought not 
 to be lodged in the hands of one man without some court of ap{)eal. 
 The Annual Conference was this court. Having failed in his effort 
 to incorporate this measure into the economy of the Church, he with- 
 drew, and carried many with him. The political situation was de- 
 cidedly favorable to O'Kelly. There were many leaders of political 
 opinion who were suspected of harboring the purpose of overthrowing 
 the Re})ublic, and introducing a Monarchy. Washington himself 
 did not escai)e from this charge of treason to American liberty. The 
 liercenessof this political warfare has never l)een excelled in the history 
 of the country. But, in the midst of civil commotions, ecclesiastical 
 dissensions, and clerical secessions, Asbury remained firm and pa- 
 tient, keeping himself to his one work, disputing with no one, but 
 approving himself as a man of God and a true Bishop and shepherd 
 of the flock. 
 
 When the declining influence of O'Kelly became manifest, and 
 the failure of liis seditious movement was no longer a matter of 
 doubt, the controversy assumed a new })hase. It was claimed that 
 the preachers who were appointed to their stations ought to exercise a 
 controlling influence over the men who were authorized to make their 
 appointments. The presiding elders, therefore, should be recognized 
 as the Bishop's cabinet, and they should be elected by the Confer- 
 ence from among a specified number of persons nominated by the 
 Bishop. As a measure designed to give peace and rest to the Church, 
 this dangerous proposition was adopted by the General Conference 
 of 1820, and Joshua Soule was elected Bishop a few days previous to the 
 passage of the resolution. After mature ccmsideration the Bishop elect 
 sent in his resignation, refusing to be ordained to an oflSce whose re- 
 sponsibility was not lessened whilst the discharge of its duties had been 
 seriously embarrassed, if not rendered impossible, by the action of the 
 Conference. Thus, from 1.S20 to 1824, the question was kept open 
 until a growing spirit of conservatism caused the(ieneral Conference 
 to recede from its dangerous position. The election and a>nsecration 
 (if Joshua Soule, in 1824, settled this controversy, so far as the great 
 
12 Introdlx'tion. 
 
 body of the Church and the majority of her ministers were concerned ; 
 but the flame of dissension was still burning, and the severe conten- 
 tion resulted in the withdrawal of several thousand members in 1828, 
 who organized a non-episcopal branch of the Church. 
 
 The progress of events has fully justified the action of the emi- 
 nent men who resisted the appeals of friends and the threats of ene- 
 mies in defense of cardinal principles which were involved in the 
 measures of 1820. The best form of government, in Church or State, 
 may become an engine of oppression in the hands of wicked and de- 
 signing men. The worst form of government may be so administered 
 as to postpone for ages the efforts of reformers, because the people are 
 not conscious of the burden to which they have submitted, or becaiise 
 they fear the introduction of evils greater than those to which they 
 liave been accustomed. But in a system of Church government which 
 deposits in the hands of the people the means by which the author- 
 ities of the Church subsist, there can be little danger of depriving 
 the people of their rights. The voluntary principle which prevails 
 in all denominations of Christians in the United States is a sufficient 
 safeguard against clerical oppression. Especially is this true of the 
 Methodist ministry, who have no legal means of enforcing an 
 obligation for the payment of a salary. If the people repudiate 
 the claim, there is no recourse, there is no court of legal jurisdic- 
 tion. 
 
 There were good and true men upon both sides of the controversy, the 
 leaders in all instances being ministers. It is not a little remarkable 
 that the first attempt to remodel the Methodist system of government 
 was a movement in behalf of the preachers, whilst the issue which 
 was presented in 1828 was made in the name of the people. That 
 there was no great popular demand for the representation of the laity 
 in the legislative department of the Church was proved by the re- 
 sults. That there was no serious defect in the organization of Epis- 
 copal M ' hodism has been demonstrated by the history of the Church. 
 The superiority of our system of Church government, as a conserv- 
 ative and preservative polity, is clearly shown by comparison with 
 the fortunes of Methodism in Great Britain. Among the Wesl cy- 
 ans, the most jealously guarded and the most wisely tempered system 
 of making the appointments of the preacliers has not secured the 
 body from internal discord, and the erecti<^n of independent Churches. 
 The dissidents from the Wesleyans number more than one-third of 
 all the Methodists in Great Britain. The non-episcopal Methodists 
 
Introduction. 1 3 
 
 of tlie United States do not exceed one in twenty of the membership 
 in Methodist C'hnn-hes. 
 
 The fact which causes the minister to he prominent in all efforts 
 for change in the fjjovernment of the Church is his constant care and 
 meditation upon the interests of the cause to which he liad devoted 
 his life. Jiy degrees, and at the earnest solicitation of tlie clerical 
 members, the laity became connected with the business of the Church 
 through the financial boards at the sessions of the Annual Confer- 
 ences. Tlie gradual growth of the lay interest, and the demonstra- 
 tion of the usefulness of these wise and prudent helpers, produced at 
 last a quiet revolution in the mind of the Church at large. In 18G6 
 the singular spectacle was presented to tlie world of a body of min- 
 isters, forming a General Conference, admitting an equal number of 
 laymen to the legislature of the Church without a petition from the 
 laymen, or the serious agitation of the question by those who were 
 most deeply concerned in the movement. 
 
 Robert Paine, a young man of twenty-four, was a member of the 
 General Conference of 1824, and soon became the friend and assist- 
 ant of Bishop McKendree. By these fathers of Episcopal Method- 
 ism, McKendree and Soule, the young preacher became thoroughly 
 instructed in the princijjles of the Church constitution, and when, 
 twenty years later, the people o^ the South were driven to the neces- 
 sity of assuming an independent ^t)sition, Robert Paine was among 
 the most prominent in the movement which preserved the institu- 
 tions of Methodism in the Southern section of the United States. It 
 was in the natural order of things that he should become one of the 
 lirst men elected to the episcopal office by the Methodist Episcopal 
 Church, South. 
 
 For thirty-six years Bishop Paine exercised the office of a Bishop 
 in the Church of God. How ftvithfully he filled this office the fol- 
 loAving pages will testify. The record connects his name with every 
 Annual Conference, and his memory is precious to thousands of 
 preachers who loved him for his own sake, and esteemed him for the 
 many qualities which distinguislied his official life. 
 
 No estimate of a Bishop's labors can be formed by those who are 
 unacquainted with the diflficulties of what is called the "stationing- 
 room." It is impossible that one man should be acquainted with 
 the gifts, graces, and qualifications of a thousand itinerant preachers. 
 Nor can he possibly know the peculiar circumstances which exist in 
 the hundreds of circuits and stations to which the preachers are ap- 
 
1 4 Introduction. 
 
 pointed. It is necessary, therefore, that the Bisliop sliould have 
 godly advisers, men of sound judgment, disinterested motives, and a 
 controlling desire for the advancement of the kingdom of Christ. It 
 is essential, moreover, that the person who is responsible for the ap- 
 pointments he makes should liave the right to select the men who 
 are to help him in making them. If there is one man in the service 
 of the Church who ought to be thoroughly impartial in the distribu- 
 tion of these appointments, it is the Bishop who is responsible for 
 them. If he be a man of God, he dare not allow any selfish motive 
 to control him. If he be a wise man, he will not allow himself to 
 be controlled by any other motive than the welfare of the Church. 
 The Bishop is dependent upon the voluntary contributions of the 
 people for his support. It would be an act of folly to allow himself 
 to be governed by any unworthy influence, for he must know that 
 there are critical eyes upon him, and no decision that he makes will 
 be accepted simply because he has made it. It must commend itself 
 to the judgment of those who are acquainted with the facts, and the 
 slightest appearance of favoritism would be instantly detected. 
 
 It will be seen, therefore, how weighty this responsibility is, when 
 the mere error of judgment may be taken for the perversity of an 
 uncompromising will, or the gratification of a personal motive. 
 Nothing but thorough consecration to God, and continual depend- 
 ence upon the guidance of the Holy Spirit, can qualify a man for 
 this delicate and difficult work. That Bishop Paine was a man of 
 thorough consecration to the service of the Church, his biographer 
 has fully proved in this volume. Beginning his career with ample 
 means, whose natural increment would have placed him without 
 effort among the wealthy men of his generation, he gave his time 
 and his property to the Lord of the harvest, and quietly endured 
 the reverses of fortune which followed the civil war. Denying him- 
 self the delights of a pleasant home, he entered upon long and fa- 
 tiguing journeys, in perils by land and water, often under circum- 
 stances that would have justified his absence from the sessions of hi? 
 Annual Conferences. 
 
 A Methodist Bishop ought to be a good judge of men. He should 
 liave a competent knowledge of human character. There are many 
 occasions that call for the gift which approximates the apostolic 
 power of "discerning the spirits" of men. There are times wlicn 
 modest merit needs encouragement, and, in some instances, it must 
 be discovered :ui(l brought forwnrd into the siuilight of o})portunity. 
 
Introduction. 15 
 
 Some men are never promoted to i)l:ues for which they are fully 
 competent, because they lack that self-assertion which is frequently 
 mistaken for talent. A Bishop rarely enjoys the privilege of listen- 
 ing to the sermons of beginners in the ministry. It is (lo\ibtful if 
 he could acquire much information concerning tiie real abilities of 
 those voung men whom he chances to hear. Embarrassment is the 
 prevailing virtue of truly great men when they feel themselves in 
 the presence of their superiors. I have called it a virtue, for it 
 proves the absence of that personal vanity which is detestable in a 
 minister, and because 1 believe that Bishop Paine was one of the 
 finest examples of real pulpit power— greatest when recognizing his 
 responsibility most, but trembling in the presence of a great occa- 
 sion. He feared not the face of man, but he realized the presence 
 of his Master, and trembled lest the duty of the hour should be im- 
 perfectly performed. More than most men who are capable of lofty 
 flights of oratory, he was dependent upon the symjjathy of his audi- 
 ence. He knew, therefore, by his own experience that a certain 
 measure of embarrassment in the pulpit is the necessary re<iuisite to 
 the highest su(;cess, and he was never inclined to form a judgment 
 of others from opportunities which would have given a false impres- 
 sion of himself. In his intercourse with itinerant preachers he was 
 always studying them, as he studied every thing around him, that 
 his knowledge might be made available for the advancement of the 
 cause of Christ. 
 
 One of the qualifications of a Methodist Bishop is the ability to 
 appreciate, by practical experience, the sentiments of the Apostle 
 Paul, when he said : " I know both how to be abased and I knoAv 
 how to abound; everywliere and in all things I am instructed both 
 to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to sufler need." The 
 man who holds in his hands to a large extent the temporal welfare 
 of helpless women and children should understand what it is to be 
 hungry and to "sufler need." He who has never heard the howl of 
 the wolf at his door-step can scarcely understand the pressure of that 
 pinching want which frequently incapacitates a minister for the work 
 intrusted to him. It is easy to preach endurance of the winter's cold 
 when the preacher prepares the sermon by the warmth of a genial 
 fire. It is no difficult matter to exhort men to trust in Providence 
 when our barns are full and there is no reasonable apprehension of 
 lacking bread to-morrow; but he who hiows how to be abased — he 
 who has looked into the faces of wife and children, after revolving 
 
16 Introduction. 
 
 tlie problem of periling his integrity by accumulating debt in the 
 face of stern doubt as to the ability to pay — he is thereby better pre- 
 pared with tearful eye and prayerful heart to conmiend to others the 
 example of the birds that have neither barn nor store-house. 
 
 On the other hand, the absence of the ability "to know how to 
 abound " must tend to narrowness of views and that depression of the 
 soul which leads to poverty of mental and spiritual resources. He 
 who has the knowledge of which the apostle speaks is prepared for 
 any enterprise which the Spirit of God presents to his courage and 
 endurance, assured of the bounty that has never failed to honor the 
 largest draft which faith has ever drawn upon the bank of Provi- 
 dence. "To know how to abound" is, therefore, to make a right use 
 of the earthly riches which God has placed in our hands, not using 
 them for the gratification of selfish appetites, but as stewards of the 
 Master, distributing to others as freely as we have received. It is 
 not necessary that the name of the donor should be recorded on sub- 
 scription lists or engraved upon marble in commemoration of prince- 
 ly gifts. It is enough if the hand has been ever open to the appeal 
 of the i^oor and needy, and that the grace of charity lias been en- 
 hanced by the kindly voice and the tone of sympathy which color 
 the gift of silver with the ruddy radiance of gold. 
 
 Of Bishop Paine it can be justly said that he had the knowledge 
 of these two extremes of abundance and want. 
 
 At the termination of the civil war he, in common with many 
 thousands of our Southern countrymen, was deprived of the larger 
 part of his j^roperty, and the remainder was so greatly depreciated 
 in value as to make its possession a tax upon mind and heart, whilst 
 it continued an uncertain source of income. Added to this stroke of 
 adversity was the burden of an obligation assumed in behalf of an- 
 other, which by patient and persevering industry he was enabled 
 to discharge. To the man of honor there is no greater trial than 
 the struggle for the payment of debts for which he has received no 
 equivalent whatever. But bravely facing the issue. Bishop Paine 
 endured the toil and anxiety which for himself and family he before 
 had never known. This "service of tables" was exceedingly din- 
 tasteful to a man whose whole heart was in the work of the minis- 
 try, but it gave no occasion for the diminution of his labors in tlie 
 episcopal office. The rest at home was alloyed by the burden of care, 
 l)ut it was not made the occasion for the postponement of the en- 
 gagement or the excuse for the neglect of duty. It was only among 
 
Introduction. 17 
 
 !.is familiar friends that mention was ever made of the hardshij)S of 
 the dark and perih)iKS days whose anxieties added many a furrow to 
 his brow. He liad known, in other days, *' how to abound." The 
 Providence whicli had guided his footsteps hitlierto was leading 
 him, in the evening-time of life, by a way he had not known. 
 
 Of his tenderness of heart the records may be found in the memo- 
 ries of those who have never been turned.away empty from his door. 
 Averse to the display of a virtue which he held as fundamental to 
 Christianity, he made no publication of his charita])le deeds, but 
 ihcy and their beneficiaries are among the number of those who wel- 
 comed him "to everlasting habitations." Those only who have 
 shared his anxiety in the council-room can testify to the deep in- 
 terest he felt in the welfare of the preachers who were stationed by 
 him at the Annual Conferences. Afflicting scenes there must be, 
 and he must be less than human who can look into the face of a man 
 of (rod who has been appointed to a hard field of labor, where self- 
 denial and suffering are inevitable, without feeling the great deeps 
 of sympathy and compassion stirred. Sleepless nights and days of 
 anxiety pass by all unknown to those who are the causes of these 
 mental trials, and the strong lines which sometimes mark the face 
 of the Bishop who reads the unwelcome news to some of his brethren 
 are often made more rigid by the effort to suppress the sympathy 
 which demands an utterance. 
 
 But there are other interests that must be represented at the An- 
 nual Conference. If the preachers and their families call for the ex- 
 ercise of sympathy upon the part of the Bishop who makes their 
 appointments, the Church, whose Avelfare is at stake, must not be 
 forgotten. The carefulness which leaves no means of information 
 unemployed, and the sagacity which determines the adaptation of men 
 to the diversified fields of labor, are qualifications for the episcopal 
 office which cannot be overlooked without serious damage to the cause 
 of Christ. Accessible to the humblest member of the flock, indulgent 
 to none at the cost of candor and the claims of truth. Bishop Paine 
 discharged these duties as one who must give an account to the Chief 
 Sliepherd, and preserved a conscience void of offense toward God and 
 man. 
 
 A Methodist Bishop should be a man of firmness. Decision of 
 character is essential to the episcopal office. A man who can be 
 turned about by every appeal to his tenderness of heart, or by con- 
 siderations which gratify the claims of personal friendship, will lo.<»e 
 2 
 
18 Introduction. 
 
 the esteem of those competent to understand him, and the respect of 
 those who try but fail to use liim. On the other hand, he should 
 be open to conviction, to the appeals of reason, and magnanimous 
 enough to acknowledge an error when he is awai-e that he has com- 
 mitted it. A man who considers himself infallible, and thinks him- 
 self degraded by being proved in the wrong, has no qualifications 
 that can compensate for a weakness that is fatal. Of all men whom 
 1 have known, Bishop Paine possessed a character most exquisitely 
 balanced in this respect. Whether by slow or rapid induction he 
 had formed an opinion, he was always ready to reopen the question 
 and view it under the new light that was brought to bear upon it. 
 Even when his opinion had been publicly expressed, the conviction 
 of his judgment was reversed, and the acknowledgment was made, if 
 in the meantime the facts appeared which proved his error. On a 
 memorable occasion, he spoke hastily and unadvisedly in open Con- 
 ference, and by doing so greatly wronged one of the young ministers. 
 No sooner was the fact made apparent to him than Bishop Paine, 
 with a majestic presence, and in a tone of voice that expressed far more 
 than words can convey, publicly confessed his error and craved the 
 pardon of the brother whom he had wronged. It was this nobility 
 of character tliat made him truly great. A supreme love of truth 
 for its own sake, and that largeness of soul that confesses an error as 
 publicly as it has been committed, are virtues that belong only to 
 nature's noblemen. 
 
 Acquainted with all the vicissitudes of itinerant life; sympathiz- 
 ing with every grade and degree of ministerial fortune and ability; 
 with tenderness of heart which is called womanly because it approx- 
 imates the divine; with unalterable resolution when reason gave un- 
 qualified approvaf; with heroic courage equal to any emergency of 
 time and place; with inflexible will whose strength was chastened by 
 submission to the will of God; with modest diffidence, distrusting 
 himself and giving all praise and glory to the Master whose service 
 was his delight — Robert Paine fought the good fight, finished his 
 course, kept the faith, and has ascended to the throne of his Ee- 
 deemer, to receive the crown of eternal life. 
 
 W. P. Harbison. 
 
 Nashville, Tenn., September, 1884. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Chapter I. ^^^^ 
 Ancestry— Birth— Boyhood 23 
 
 Chapter II. 
 Conversion— Entrance on the Work of an Itinerant Preacher. . . 20 
 
 Chapter III. 
 Volunteers to go Sontli- Is Sent to Tuscaloosa Circuit— Does 
 Faithful Work— Attends Conference— Sent to Murfreeshoro 
 
 — Sent to Lebanon ^^ 
 
 Chapter IV. 
 Presiding Elder — Delegate to General Conference — Assists Bish- 
 op McKendree in His Address, etc 33 
 
 Chapter V. 
 Improving as a Preacl.er- Marriage to Miss Susanna Beck — 
 Stationed in Nashville— His Work— Presiding Elder— College 
 
 President 38 
 
 Chapter VI. 
 Conference at Pulaski, Tennessee— Falling Meteors— President of 
 La Grange College — Gifts and Graces 43 
 
 Chapter VII. 
 
 
 
 Studying Among the Kocks— College Life— Rigid Requirements 
 — Dangers — Courage 49 
 
 Chapter VIII. 
 
 Unselfishness — Courage — Sorrow 55 
 
 Chapter IX. 
 Second Marriage — Death— Grief— Revival— Marriage to Miss 
 Mary Eliza Millw ater — Family 50 
 
 Chapter X. 
 
 Professor Tutwiler- Honors — Agents 02 
 
 (19) 
 
20 COXTENTS. 
 
 Chapter XL tagr 
 
 Carlos G. Smith — College Life Closing — Work Accomplished. . . G8 
 
 Chapter XIL 
 Love for the Church 72 
 
 Chapter XIII. 
 The General Conference of 1844 — The Sequence 77 
 
 Chapter XIV. 
 General Conference of 1846 — Struggles — Victory 81 
 
 Chapter XV. 
 Bisliop Paine on His Eounds 85 
 
 Chapter XVL , 
 Fulfilling His Mission 91 
 
 Chapter XVII. 
 
 Great Missionary Meeting — Terrible Accident — Wonderful Prov- 
 idence 94 
 
 Chapter XVIIL 
 
 Legal Question — Tennessee Conference 98 
 
 Chapter XIX. 
 Duty in the Midst of Danger 102 
 
 Chapter XX. 
 In the Great West — Returns Home 107 
 
 Chapter XXL 
 
 General Conference — Cholera — Bascom — Excitement in the East 
 — Work — Bereavement Ill 
 
 Chapter XXII. 
 Long Absence — Death Abroad and at Home — Powerful Preaching.l 17 
 
 Chapter XXIIL 
 Third General Conference — New Bishops — Removal of La 
 Grange College 1 21 
 
 Chapter XXIV. 
 
 Education in Alabama — The Southern University — Providence — 
 Perils— Law 120 
 
CONTENTS. 21 
 
 Chapter XXV. page 
 
 General Conference at Nasliville — Bishop Soule — Episcopal 
 Tour 134 
 
 Chapter XXVI. 
 
 AVaUli-nii;ht — John Hersey — Buchanan — Interesting Visit — 
 Threatenings of War 140 
 
 Chapter XXVII. 
 The Civil War — Sorrow upon Sorrow 146 
 
 Chapter XXVIII. 
 "Notes of Life" — Seeking for Truth — Dr. Bascom — Political Is- 
 sues — President Monroe — Missions Among the Indians — De 
 Soto 152 
 
 Chapter XXIX. 
 
 "Notes of Life" Continued — The "Vexed Question" — Presiding 
 Elder Controversy — Change of Conference Lines — Sectarian- 
 ism — Divorce — Divining Rod — Keligious Controversy — James 
 W. Fariss 167 
 
 Chapter XXX. 
 
 "Notes of Life" Continued — Marriage of Ministers — Administra- 
 tion of Discipline — Popular Amusements — Financial Straits. .187 
 
 Chapter XX XL 
 
 "Notes of Life" Continued — Removal of Indians — Holy Living 
 — Sketches of Bishop Bascom — Church Polity tiOo 
 
 Chapter XXXII. 
 
 General Conference of 1866 — Changes Made — Lay Element — 
 New Bishops 222 
 
 Chapter XXXIII. 
 Southern University — Bishop Soule's Death — Memorial by Bish- 
 op Paine 227 
 
 Chapter XXXIV. 
 
 Still AVorking — Depressed — Sick — Unconscious for Mouths — 
 I*rovidential Recoverv — Renewed Preaching with Power 242 
 
22 CONTENTS. 
 
 Chapter XXXV. page 
 Finisliing the Life of Bishop McKendree— Hard at Work- 
 Growing Old Gracefully 250 
 
 Chapter XXXVI. 
 Working Like a Young Man 254 
 
 Chapter XXXVIL 
 Death of Bishop Andrew — Bishop Paine in Louisville 259 
 
 Chapter XX XVI I L 
 Central University 2G2 
 
 Chapter XXXIX. 
 
 Inner Life — Vanderbilt University — General Conference 271 
 
 Chapter XL. 
 Seventy-Fifth Anniversary — Domestic Afflictions — Heroic Devo- 
 tion to Duty 276 
 
 Chapter XLI. 
 Still SufTering and Working— Dr. Palmer's Visit 292 
 
 Chapter XLII. 
 "Notes of Life"— Wesley Hall— A Fraternal Meeting 294 
 
 Chapter XLIII. 
 Bishop Paine Retiring — Dr. McFerrin's Speech — Bishop Pierce's 
 Address — Great Feeling — Death of T. O. Summers — Ordain- 
 ing New Bishops — Returning Home to Die 299 
 
 Chapter XLIV. 
 Closing Scenes — Triumphant to the Last 304 
 
 Chapter XLV. 
 Summing L^p of His Life and Character 310 
 
LIFE OF BISHOP PAINE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Ancestry — Birth — Boyhood. 
 
 ABOUT the year 1699 Dr. James Paine lauded in Amer- 
 ica. He was an Englishman, and had been educated 
 in London as a physician. After remaining a short time 
 in New England, he settled in what is now Person county, 
 North Qirolina. He was a man of affairs, and erected the 
 first brick house ever seen in Person county. He had four 
 sons, one of whom was named Robert. He was the grand- 
 father of the Bishop, and was married to Elizabeth Miller 
 in 1772. James Paine was the fruit of this marriage, and 
 was born on March 18, 1776. Robert, the grandfather of 
 the Bishop, was also a physician, and was among the patriots 
 of the Revolutionary war, and was commander of a company. 
 After he close of the war he was elected to the Legislature 
 of his native State, and became a prominent member. He 
 was a sensible, pious, and generous-hearted Christian gentle- 
 man. He died in 1808, universally honored and respected. 
 James, the oldest son of Dr. Robert Paine, was the father 
 of the Bishop. He was educated at the University of North 
 Carolina, and was married to Miss Nancy A. AVilliams on 
 January 7, 1799. He was for many years the efficient clerk 
 of the Hisrh Court in his native countv, and held the office 
 until his removal to Oiles county, Tennessee, in 1814. He 
 was a modest, qniet, sensible, nnd useful Cliristian gentleman. 
 He never soutrht office, but Nvas iur many years a leading 
 
 (23) 
 
24 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 magistrate in Giles county. He brought up a large family 
 of sons and daughters, of whom Robert was the oldest. He 
 was a gentleman of the olden times, possessed of large wealth, 
 owning and cultivating a fine plantation in the rich county 
 of Giles. The Bishop says of him : " My father had no as- 
 pirations for either civil or military honors, although he was 
 prevailed upon to act as Judge of the County Court, and 
 was for many years a justice of the peace." He was re- 
 markable for sound judgment, integrity of principle, and 
 Christian consistency. He was a gentleman of fine culture 
 and spotless reputation, pleasant in conversation, just in his 
 dealings, wise in counsel, and possessed of the highest do- 
 mestic virtues. He was thrice married. Robert, the sub- 
 ject of this memoir, was born in Person county. North Car- 
 olina, November 12, 1799. 
 
 It will be seen, as we accompany him through a life of 
 more than eighty years, that he was in all respects worthy 
 of a noble ancestry. His father of fine English blood and 
 his mother of Welsh descent could both look with hope to 
 the future of their first-born. He was bright and promis- 
 ing, and gave no little joy to the youthful couple. He soon 
 exhibited those elements of character which marked him all 
 along his eventful life. He was in no respect inferior to 
 those who save to him the heritage of a eood name. He was 
 a modest, brave boy, and from his early boyhood always 
 loved and told the truth. He always prided himself on his 
 love for the truth, which he had always practiced from his 
 boyhood to manhood and from manhood to old age. While 
 at school in North Carolina he made rapid pi-ogrcss. The 
 family had scarcely settled quietly down in their Tennessee 
 home before they learned there was an excellent school in 
 the neighborhood. This was under the management of 
 AVilliam Brown, a graduate of the University of North 
 Carolina, and a brother of the Hon. A. V. Brown, who 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 25 
 
 afterward became distiiiiruished as a politician, and was at 
 one time Governor of the State of Tennessee and at another 
 a mcnd)er of Congress, and was also a member of the cabi- 
 net of President Polk. William Brown was a good teacher, 
 and was always proud of having had Robert Paine as his 
 pu])il. The study of the classics now largely engaged his 
 attention, and here he laid the foundation of his education. 
 Greatly to his. regret, the school closed in a year, and he 
 spent a year as clerk in a mercantile house in Pulaski. He 
 was active, intelligent, polite, and popular. Although full 
 of life and fond of fun, he allowed nothing to interfere with 
 his duties to his employer. He was thoroughly honest and 
 very methodical and accurate in attending to business, still 
 the business did not suit him. He thirsted for knowledge. 
 He desired to perfect himself in the classics, in which he 
 was already quite proficient, and to make himself master 
 of the higher mathematics. It so happened that a good 
 opportunity was afforded in a school of high grade taught 
 by Dr. Wier and Professor Alexander in the village of 
 Lyunville, Giles county, Tenn. Thither he went in Jan- 
 uary, 1816. He went to work Avith his usual vigor. He 
 pursued his studies with such success that he was soon ready 
 for the sophomore class of the colleges of that day. 
 
 It has been stated again and again that he was educated 
 at Chapel Hill, and that he was a classmate of President 
 James K. Polk. This was not true. He did not carry out his 
 purposes in that direction. His father greatly desired him 
 to do so. He had him ready to start to Cumberland Col- 
 lege, at Nashville, but his sou felt it to be his duty to enter 
 at once upon the work of the ministry. "Conscience set- 
 tled the matter then, and he was never disposed to unsettle 
 it." He was a good scholar, thorough in English and profi- 
 cient in the Latin and Greek languages and in mnthomatics. 
 He also studied French and liecame ac(piainted with Hebrew. 
 
26 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Conversion — Entrance on the Work of an Itinerant 
 
 Preacher. 
 
 THE parents of Robert Paine were up to this time mem- 
 bers of no Church. They were inclined to the Baptist 
 denomination. The training of Robert was moral but not 
 religious. He was taught to be truthful and honorable, and 
 always had the greatest respect for religion. When a room- 
 jnate of his at Dr. Wier's school uttered infidel sentiments, 
 he said in reply: "These sentiments of yours are intolerable 
 to me. I cannot room with an infidel. After to-night we 
 part, and I go to another boarding-house." He had been 
 tausfht and believed the Bible to be true, and the fear of 
 being an infidel determined him at once to separate from 
 his room-mate. His conversion was on this wise: He had 
 been the subject of deep religious impressions fi-om early 
 life. These feelings were intensified by the death of his 
 mother. She was soundly converted, and died uttering as 
 her last words, "Peace, peace." She was a good mother, 
 and her dying-words had a powerful effect upon his young 
 and susceptible heart. About a year after her death he wjis 
 greatly affected by the preaching of the Rev. Thomas Tj. 
 Douglass, who had been connected with his father as clerk 
 in a mercantile house in North Carolina, when they wei-e 
 both boys. A camp-meeting was to be held at Pisgah, in 
 Giles county, in October, 1817. Douglass was the presid- 
 ing elder, and Miles Harper preacher in charge. At tliis 
 meeting his friend Sterling Brown went forward as a seekrr 
 of religion. Robert, although deeply affected by his friend'.-? 
 going forward, failed to do so, and went alone into the neigh- 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 27 
 
 boring forest and offered up prayer, sought religion, and de- 
 termined to be a Christian. Many were converted, but he 
 Avas not among the number. He could not overcome his 
 deep-seated repugnance to what he called "religious sensa- 
 tionalism," hence he gave no public indication that he 
 was a seeker of religion. Yet he was in earnest. Alone 
 in the forest, he resolved to search the Scriptures, and fi-oni 
 them to learn the way of life. He left the camp-meeting 
 to carry out this purpose. He continued reading his Bible 
 and praying until the following Sabbath, October 9, 1817. 
 There was a meeting at the house of Davis Brown. Thither 
 Robert went, and there, bowing before God in prayer, he 
 resolved to give himself to the work of saving his soul. 
 Before the meeting closed he was soundly converted. The 
 evidence w\as strong and clear. He felt the burden of sin 
 removed and that his heart was renewed by the baptism of 
 the Holy Ghost. He was satisfied. He knew that he was 
 born again. He was happy. Love to God and -man was 
 shed abroad in his heart by the Holy Ghost. He was not 
 noisy, yet he was so overpowered by a sense of God's redeem- 
 ing and forgiving love that all the darkness of the past was 
 made luminous and every doubt and fear removed. From 
 that day to the hour of his death he never doubted his con- 
 version. For sixty-five years he celebrated in his heart, and 
 often in grateful words, the return of the day which marked 
 the anniversary of his conversion. His conversion, so bright 
 yet so calm, filling him with the love of God, was followed 
 by his immediate connection w^ith the Methodist Episcopal 
 Church. About the same time Hartwell and Sterling 
 Brown were also converted, and by the advice of the pre- 
 siding elder, the Rev. Thomas L. Douglass, these young 
 men went to the Tennessee Conference, which was opened at 
 Franklin, Tenn., October 30, 1817. Robert had not yet 
 been baptized, and of course had not been fullv admitted 
 
28 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 into the Church. During this session of the Conference he 
 received the ordinance of baptism by pouring. The Rev. 
 Miles Harper administered the ordinance. Our young con- 
 vert was deeply impressed by the Conference. *' The session 
 ■was held in a narrow, long, low school-house near the old 
 Methodist Church. Bishops Robert R. Roberts and Enoch 
 George presided alternately. The sermon of Bishop Rob- 
 erts on Sunday, at the court-house, on Hebrews ii. 3, was 
 deeply impressive, and under it there was a great display of 
 divine power. The Conference embraced the whole State of 
 Tennessee, all of Kentucky south of Salt River, and a por- 
 tion of South-western Virginia. The religious impression 
 made upon the community was very great. A revival be- 
 gan early in the session and continued to the close. Scores 
 were converted. Our young soldier felt the call of God, 
 *' Go preach." He had not been licensed. Not one month 
 had passed since he first felt the glow of divine love and 
 rested in Christ. He could not be admitted into the Con- 
 ference without a pal2:)able violation of the Discipline of 
 the Church. Yet he must preach. He had once in the 
 absence of the preacher been called upon to deliver a ser- 
 mon. His text was, " Come unto me, all ye that labor and 
 are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest." The word had 
 its effect, for God was with him. So it was determined to 
 take the young man and put him to work. Some time 
 after the Conference he returned to Giles county, and at 
 a quarterly-meeting Conference, held at Rehoboth, he was 
 licensed to preach. He was really not licensed until Jan- 
 uary, after he had been on the circuit some months. He 
 was immediately engaged by the presiding elder, the Rev. 
 T. L. Douglass, to travel on the Nashville Circuit with 
 Miles Harper as senior preacher. Miles Harper was no 
 ordinary man. He had been largely instrumental in the 
 conversion of his youthful colleague, had baptized him, 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 29 
 
 and possessed his largest confidence. It was well they should 
 be thus intimately associated. It was a blessing to one so 
 young to have such a friend as Milos Harper. " Burning in 
 zeal, eloquent in speech, witii an unusual degree of unction 
 in his public prayers and sermons," he nearly always touched 
 the hearts of his hearers. At a camp-meeting he was almost 
 irresistible. While he was preaching persons would invol- 
 untarily rise to their feet and press toward the preacher, and 
 often kneel and cry for mercy. He was almost a natui-al 
 orator, with vivid imagination, deep feeling, great courage, 
 and a strong, clear, and musical voice. Such w^as the ma-i 
 who became the adviser and instructor of the youth Paine 
 in his first efforts to preach the gospel. This was the old 
 method of preparing our young men for the ministerial of- 
 fice. We had no theological schools. The circuit, encom- 
 passing many square miles, was then the only school of the 
 prophets. So on the Nashville Circuit, with Miles Harper 
 as his example and instructor, Robert Paine first learned to 
 preach the gospel. He says: "We had the pleasure of see- 
 ing the w ork of the Lord prosper in our hands. Many were 
 converted and some sanctified." 
 
 The next Conference opened at Nashville on October 1, 
 1818. Bishops McKendree and George presided. At this 
 Conference twenty-six were admitted on trial, of whom Rob- 
 ert Paine was one. He was appointed in charge of Flint 
 Circuit. He was still a youth in his teens, but he did not 
 hesitate. Brave, zealous, prudent, and faithful, he was 
 blessed with a revival continuing through the year. He 
 says: "One hundred and sixty souls were converted at two 
 camp-meetings, a general revival going on all around the 
 circuit, an increase of two hundred and thirty members, 
 and all was peace and love.'* 
 
30 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Volunteers to Go South — Is Sent to Tuscaloosa Circuit — 
 Does Faithful Work — Attends Conference — Sent to 
 
 MURFREESBORO SeNT TO LEBANON. 
 
 OCTOBER 1, 1819, the Confereiice again met in Xash- 
 ville. A call was made for volynteers to go South. 
 Robert Paine at once offered his services and was accepted. 
 He was appointed to Tuscaloosa Circuit. Here he had all 
 the difficulties to encounter incident to a new country. The 
 streams were without bridges, and frequently he risked his 
 life in crossing them. The settlers were often many miles 
 apart, and frequently he had to go without a road through 
 the dense, unbroken forests. He says : " My life was often 
 in imminent peril, but out of all these troubles the Lord 
 delivered me." Here he formed many permanent friend- 
 ships, to which he loved to recur in all his subsequent life. 
 Dr. Robert L. Kennon, a prince in Israel, a man of the 
 hisrhest talents and loftiest Christian virtues, was amono; 
 these early friends. He did not live to see his young friend 
 a presiding Bishop in the Methodist Church, but he did live 
 to see him advanced to high position, adorning all the walks 
 of refined social life, raising high the banner of the cross, 
 a teacher in Israel of exalted worth, and eagerly pursuing 
 the path which his youthful feet were then treading, and 
 which has been made illustrious by apostles and martyrs 
 along all the ages. Dr. Kennon himself was among the 
 greatest and best of our Southern preachers. His sun set 
 at noon, but it shone with ineffable brightness to the last. 
 No man did more for the cause of God in Alabama than 
 this early and life -long friend of the young preacher. 
 
BTSIIOP OF THE U. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 31 
 
 This woj-k uas three huiulred and twenty- five miles in 
 circuit, and embraced twenty -eight appointments in four 
 weeks. 
 
 October, 1 820, tlie Tennessee Conference was held in Hop- 
 kiusville, Ky. No bishop was present. Robert Paine was 
 apparently ruined in health by the severe labors of the year 
 just closed. He, however, went uj) to the Conference on horse- 
 back, and was admitted into full connection, though not or- 
 dained. This year he was stationed at Murfreesboro. He 
 I'.ad access to one of the best libraries in the State. He 
 read history, science, and literature with an avidity and a 
 ]^rotit rarely equaled. His thirst for knowledge was being 
 satisiied. He was a learner, and the best books were his 
 teachers. He wrote rigid analyses of the works read. He 
 ! ecame enamored with natural science. He read chemistry, 
 astronomy, physics, and enjoyed the reading. He read Shake- 
 speare, and appreciated the great dramatist. He read Mil- 
 ton, and was filled with rapture as he followed the flights of 
 his imperial imagination. Then his Bible and the stand- 
 ards viere not neglected. He made great improvement in 
 preaching. His language became refined and elegant. His 
 imagination seemed inspired. He surpassed the expectation 
 of his friends and won upon the community and the Church 
 as few young men ever did. Sterling Brown was then the 
 wonder of Tennessee. His enthusiasm drew with more than 
 magnetic power. He was all aflame with love and zeal. He 
 excelled in almost every department of sound eloquence. His 
 command of language seemed almost inexhaustible. His 
 power of description was exhibited in the highest form of 
 word-painting. The picture was right before the hearer, 
 filling him with wonder, startling him with terror, melting 
 him with its tenderness, or winning him with love. But in 
 no respect was Sterling Brown the superior of Robert Paine, 
 w hile in varied learning, thorough culture, delicate and ele- 
 
32 LIFE OF KOBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 gaiit taste, Paine was actually surpassing all the young men 
 of his age. 
 
 November, 1821, the Conference met at Salem, Bedford 
 county, Tenn. On November 11 our young preacher was 
 solemnly ordained a deacon by Bishop McKendree, and 
 was returned to Murfreesboro and Shelbyville. This year 
 Avas as the past, and was profitable to all. The people Avere 
 delighted, and he Avas rejoic*^.d because of the opportunity 
 afforded for continued improvement. The next Tennessee 
 Conference was held in East Tennessee, and he Avas taken 
 violently ill of a bilious fe\^er. He AA'as sick for se\'en 
 Aveeks, and his life Avas despaired of. He himself had no 
 hope of living until his faithful friend Rev. W. B. Peck 
 was conversing with him about the plan and manner of his 
 burial. He said: "I felt a confidence that I should get 
 well. I commenced at once to improA^e, and finally recov- 
 ered. This is the Lord's doing, bless his holy name! " Im- 
 mediately upon his recoA^ery he Avent to his appointment, 
 Avhich Avas at Lebanon and Franklin. He did not arrive 
 until about the middle of January, 1823. He continued to 
 groAV in fiivor AA'ith God and man, as aa^s shoAvn at the next 
 Conference, held in Huntsville, Ala., November 26, 1823. 
 Here he was elected and ordained elder, and elected a dele- 
 gate to the General Conference. He Avas appointed presid- 
 ing elder of the Forked Deer District. From this time on 
 he is ahvays found in the front ranks. Preaching before he 
 Avas licensed by the Church, traA^eling a circuit in less than 
 one month after his conversion, a stationed preacher before he 
 Avas tAventy-one years old, a presiding elder and a delegate 
 to the General Conference at the age of tw^enty-four years. 
 From this time on he attended CA'ery General Conference, as 
 delegate or Bishop, until his death — fifteen in all, and in nine 
 of Avhich he presided as Bishop. Seldom has any man among 
 us risen so rapidly, and certainly not one more deservedly. 
 
Tusiior OF Tin: m. i:. ciiukcu, south. 33 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 PuEsiDiNc; Elder — 1)fli;<;atk to (Ienkkal Conference — 
 Assists Uisiioi' ^McKendree in His Address, etc. 
 
 THE Forked Deer District, to wliieh Kobert Taiiu; wiis 
 appointed at the Conference which began itvS session at 
 Huntsville, Ala., November 26, 1828, embraced a hirue 
 scope of country. It extended from Florence, Ala., to the 
 iMissitssippi River and to the line of Kentucky, embracing 
 the " Purchase," and also extended all along the northern 
 boundary of the State of Mississippi — a territory considei-- 
 ably larger than that now occupied by the present Memphis 
 Conference. Early in January the young presiding elder 
 set out on his mission. His fii'st quarterly-meeting was on 
 the Bigbee Circuit. He preached with great liberty and 
 success, and after preaching on Sunday came very near los- 
 ing his life. He says: "After preaching, as I was going 
 off with Father Brewer, I got my foot hung in the stirrup. 
 My horse became alarmed, and dragged me under him and 
 along the road, tramping over me and kicking. Just as he 
 started at full speed to run between a stump and the fence, 
 where I must have been instantly killed. Divine Providence 
 released my foot, and I escaped unhurt. This is to me one 
 of the strongest and surest pledges that my God is my guard. 
 O that I may love and serve him more faithfully ! My soul, 
 praise and adore him!" This was by far the most diffi- 
 cult work to which he had been appointed. He often had 
 to lodge in a log-cabin of only one room, lighted by pine- 
 knots, and uncomfortably crowded with people. He gives 
 an account of having to spend one night in an open cabin, 
 in which there were but two beds for seven adult jiersons. 
 3 
 
34 LIFE OF ROBERT PAIXE, D.D. 
 
 In speaking of these trials, he says: "I thank God that I 
 envy neither the rich nor the great. I feel that I am dis- 
 charging my duties. The people are very poor, honest, and 
 pious. I was never better satisfied. I am happy in relig- 
 ion, and not afraid to die. This evening I have been much 
 blessed. O how I do realize the poet's words! 
 
 Lord, liow secure and blest are they 
 
 Who feel the joy of pardoned sin; 
 Sliould storms of wrath shake earth and sea, 
 
 Their minds have heaven and peace within." 
 
 Again he says : " I have labored with my own hands until 
 they are blistered and very sore. Am studying a work on 
 chemistry. Country full of wolves, bears, and panthers. 
 Thank God I have continued peaceful, and that I am grow- 
 ing ! I desire more humility, zeal, and love. Glory, glory 
 be to God for pure and sweet religion ! " I have made these 
 extracts from his diary to show how amidst crosses, hardships, 
 and even dangers, he was sustained by the grace of God, and 
 w^s rising to a higher life. His studies WTre not neglected. 
 By day and night, on horseback and in the humble cabin of 
 the pioneer, he was pursuing his studies. He kept himself 
 busy all the time. If necessary he would help a poor brother 
 ])ut up a fence or build a stable, or assist in any needful work, 
 until his hands were blistered almost, and forced him to stop. 
 If the wolves and bears were alarming the women and kill- 
 ing the stock, he would shoulder a gun and accompany his 
 host in the chase, and then at night he was found studying 
 the profoundest works on natural science then at his com- 
 mand. He says: "Finished w^ork on natural philosophy. 
 Pleasing and sublime study." But the most gratifying part 
 of his experience as a presiding elder is his growth in grace 
 and his almost rapturous joy when he finds that he has been 
 instrumental in doing good. He says : " Blessed be God that 
 I have been so honored as to be instrumental in the salvation 
 
Risrior OF THE M. E. CHunrii, south. •>•> 
 
 of souls. I have been often tempted to thijik that there are 
 no real seals to my ministry. Away with such thoughts! 
 Lord, make me more humble, patient, zealous, and holy. 
 God in his wisdom may keep me from knowing the good 
 1 may be instrumental in accomplishing, but I trust I shall 
 sec in eternity many happy souls whom I have led to Christ. 
 For this I am willing to suffer cold and hunger, and indee 1 
 all other privations. O my soul, awake to the importance of 
 the ministry! How anxious I should be to bring to glory 
 and to save immortal souls! God of omnipotence, clothe 
 me with divine energy, and help me so to preach and exercise 
 myself as to be able to count thousands of souls as stars to 
 my crown in eternity. Spirit of God, rest upon me and at- 
 tend my labors." Again he says: "It is my heart's desire 
 to be a useful, holy, and powerful minister of Christ, and 
 see the work revive all over the district. I pray for my 
 preachers, that they may be as flaming seraphs fi'om on high, 
 sent on a mission of eternal importance." It is no marvel 
 that the cause of God prospered in his hands. He wiffe 
 abundant in labors, preaching whenever he had opportu- 
 nity. He flamed like a seraph himself, and imparted his 
 spirit largely to his preachers. He had converts at most 
 of his quarterly-meetings, and was himself hungering and 
 thirsting for perfect love. He was a man of one work. 
 His consecration was entire. His lips seemed to be touched 
 with a live coal from the altar. A vein of deep piety was 
 exhibited in all his public ministrations and in his private 
 walk. He was a close student that he might become a more 
 useful man. He consecrated all his knowledge to God. 
 He brought every power w4th which God had invested him, 
 and laying all upon the altar, said, " Lord, I am thine." 
 
 After a round on the district, he had to leave for the Gen- 
 eral Conference in Baltimore. He started in :March in com- 
 pany with Bishop McKendree and the Key. Thomas L. Doug- 
 
''^fi TJFE OF r.OBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 lass and wife, 'i^hey did not get a palace car at Xasliville 
 and arrive at Baltimore in twenty-six hours. The old Bishop 
 was in a carriage and the rest on horseback. They crossed 
 the Cumberland Mountains into East Tennessee, and thence 
 into North Carolina and through Virginia to Baltimore. It 
 took them nearly six weeks to accomplish the journey. It 
 seems now almost incredible that Mrs. Douglass, who weighed 
 more than two hundred pounds, should have been able to 
 accomplish such a journey on horseback. Of this trip 
 Bishop Paine writes in his " Notes of Life : " " It would be 
 unnecessary and too tedious to dwell upon the incidents of 
 that long trip over mountains and bad roads, or to repeat 
 by narrative the sufferings endured by my loved and vener- 
 ated charge, Bishop McKendree, and how often I bathed 
 his aching and swollen feet after a hard day's travel, and 
 sought by self-denial to get him a night's rest. Passing 
 through North Carolina, visiting my relations, and thence 
 through Petersburg and Richmond, Virginia, we arrived at 
 Baltimore on May 1, 1824. I was sent with the Bishop to 
 the house of William Watkins, a merchant living in Light 
 street, where we found a hearty welcome in an intelligent 
 Methodist family. The memory of Mrs. Watkins and of 
 that precious circle is still fresh and sweet after the lapse 
 of fifty-eight years." The number of delegates was one 
 hundred and thirty-four, of whom Robert Paine was the 
 youngest. The address of the Bishops was prepared under 
 the direction of Bishop McKendree, but it was the compo- 
 sition of the youthful delegate. He WTote and rewrote it. 
 He subjected it to the closest criticism both by himself and 
 the old Bishop. He spared neither pains nor labor to make 
 every word the very best that could be selected, and to have 
 every sentence without a fault and beyond criticism. He 
 always said that its preparation involved the greatest labor, 
 but that it was to him a real benediction. It opened up to 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 87 
 
 liiiii a new field, and caused him to study more thoroughly 
 the constitution of the IMethodist Ei)isco]\al Church. It 
 was during the preparation of this address that he laid the 
 foundation for that ri<rid and accurate construction of ec- 
 clesiastical law for which he hecame famous during his long 
 service as a Bishop. The General Conference of 1824 was 
 a most important one in the annals of Methodism, hut it is 
 needless here to enter into any detail of its work. At its 
 close our young presiding elder returned as quickly as possi- 
 ble to his district. He spent the time in preaching, holding 
 camp-meetings, and more thoroughly organizing the work 
 on the Forked Deer District. Cheerfully, bravely, con- 
 scientiously had he labored in his Lord's vineyard. 
 
J^H LIFE OF KOKEKT PAINE, D.l). 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Impkoving as a Preacher — Marries Miss Susanna Beck — 
 Stationed in Nashville — His Work — Presiding Elder — 
 College President. 
 
 WE now see Robert Paine developed into a preacher of 
 very high order. He had unction. He had variety. 
 He was deeply spiritual, and often thrillingly eloquent. His 
 imagination was capable of the highest, grandest flights. 
 It was difficult for him to curb it. Its creations were some- 
 times almost bordering on the extravagant, but they startled 
 the people by their originality, and moved them by their viv- 
 idness. He w^as even then felt to be the rising man in the 
 Methodist Church. And yet his life was one of the great- 
 est self-denial. Well educated, brought up in the best soci- 
 ety, with the finest prospects of wealth and fame, capable of 
 distinguishing himself in law or medicine, and of shining in 
 politics, he surrendered all to Christ. Like Moses, the serv- 
 ant of God, he preferred the reproach of Christ to all the 
 honors and treasures that this world could afford. 
 
 At the close of the Coirference-year Robert Paine and 
 Susanna Beck were united in the holy bonds of matrimony. 
 She was the daughter of John E. Beck, a prominent lawyer 
 of Nashville, and a granddaughter of General James Rob- 
 ertson, the pioneer of Middle Tennessee. I knew her well, 
 and can testify to her exalted character. She was of hand- 
 some person, and in every way attractive. Her manners 
 were characterized by great modesty and refinement. She 
 was possessed of rare intelligence, and was gifted in con- 
 versation. She was amiable, prudent, and deeply pious, 
 and was a helpmeet to her husband. 
 
lUSHor OF rnK m. k. rmiirii, south. 39 
 
 On the 25th day of November, 1824, the Conference 
 o])enc(l its session at Cohinibia, Tenn. At its close Robert 
 Paine was read out for Nasshville. He entered immediately 
 upon his pastorate. He became at once identified with his 
 people. His congregations were the largest that had ever 
 attended upon the ministry of a Methodist preacher in that 
 young city. His influence constantly increased. He be- 
 came a power for good. He was caressed and flattered. 
 He continued humble and prayerful. He laid down these 
 principles, by which he would govern his conduct and keep 
 himself unsoiled : " Be not too familiar with any one. Too 
 great intimacy is often injurious. When I feel a wrong 
 spirit rising within me I will be silent. Words are like oil 
 on fire. I will never do myself what I condemn in others. 
 It is a great shame for a preacher to do what he does not 
 and cannot approve in others. Nothing but grace, grace 
 can save my soul." He continued a hard, close student. 
 Besides his Bible and theological works, he studied hisr 
 tory and astronomy, and employed himself often in compo- 
 sition. He was returned to Nashville at the ensuing Con- 
 ference. 
 
 During these years A. L. P. Green and John B. McFer- 
 rin, together with John M. Holland and G. W. D. Harris, 
 had been admitted into the wf rk of the itinerant ministry. 
 Methodism was on rising ground. Holland became a great 
 power, and dying while still in his prime, left an immortal 
 influence behind him. Harris, too, was a man of great 
 ability and large influence. He is gone, but his children 
 still show the power of religious culture and the lasting influ- 
 ence of consecrated talents. Green and McFerrin were for 
 a long time co-workers in building up the cause of Christ 
 in the city of Nashville. While all honor is due to these 
 noble brethren, and while the venerable McFerrin still 
 stands solid as a block of granite, sustaining and advancing 
 
40 LIFE OF KOIJEKT I'AIXE, D.D. 
 
 all the interests of true religion, it is safe to say no man 
 ever did more for the cause of God in Nashville than Rol> 
 ert Paine. For years after he left the State an appointment 
 for him to preach would draw larger congregations than 
 could be called together by any other man. All honor to 
 the Youngs and Kelleys, the Sawries and Hargroves, and 
 the rest who have had charge of churches in Nashville, and 
 who have helped to make that city a great center of Chris- 
 tian influence throughout the land ; but to none of them is 
 our holy religion more indebted than to Robert Paine, who 
 laid the foundation so deep and strong more than fifty years 
 ago. He continued in Nashville as station preacher and pre- 
 siding elder of the Nashville District until the Conference 
 of 1829, which was held at Huntsville, Ala., in the month 
 of» November of that year. At that Conference he was ap- 
 pointed Superintendent of La Grange College, Alabama. 
 He thought it was like Zion, and so wrote, " Beautiful for 
 situation, the joy of the whole earth." From the top of 
 this mountain was presented one of the most beautiful views 
 upon which the eyes ever rested. Stretching along from 
 its base, abounding in fertility, in a high state of cultiva- 
 tion, and as far as the eye could see, was the magnificent 
 Tennessee Valley. The Tennessee River flowed through it 
 like a thread of silver, incr^sing its beauty and adding to 
 its fertility. The flourishing town of Huntsville, which has 
 always been the pride of North Alabama, was at the eastern 
 end, and it extended west to the territory then occupied by 
 the Indians in North Mississippi. Tuscumbia, Florence, 
 Leighton, and many rich plantations, on which were splen- 
 did mansions, were in full view. At that time the village 
 of La Grange had a population of some four hundred peo- 
 l)le. They were mostly planters who had gone thither for 
 health. The Rev. Daniel P. Bester was conducting a flour- 
 ishing school for young ladies. The outlook was hopeful. 
 
BISnOr OF* THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 41 
 
 The -whole scene ^vas inspiring. The young President had 
 been unwittingly preparing for this very field of labor. 
 During these years of study he had been fitting himself 
 for this ^vork \vithout ever thinking that he should be 
 called away from his regular and loved employ of preach- 
 ing the gospel. At Nashville he had become intimately 
 associated with the Rev. Philip Lindsley, the President of 
 the University. Appreciating his talents and learning, Dr. 
 Lindsley had conferred upon him the degree of A.M., and 
 the Trustees had elected him to a place in the Board of 
 Trust. So he was not unfamiliar with the method of con- 
 ducting colleges. He knew human nature, and was born 
 to rule. His excellent practical common sense now stood 
 him in hand. He had learned to keeii books when he w^as 
 a merchant's clerk, and this was of prime importance ni 
 managing the funds of the institution. His consecrated 
 piety enabled him to wield a mighty religious influence 
 among the boys. Soon there was a great revival. Many 
 were the young converts. Collins D. Elliott, tli^ son of an 
 itinerant Methodist preacher in Ohio, aided largely in the 
 revival. He took charge of the young men, and formed 
 theni into a large college class. Once a week he met his 
 class, and soon he became one of the most useful and suc- 
 cessful leaders in the Church. He was himself a deeply 
 religious young man, and his training at home and at Au- 
 gusta College, Kentucky, admirably fitted him for his work. 
 Deeply emotional, full of zeal, conscientious, earnest, and 
 often powerful in prayer, apt to teach, and giving to each 
 member the instruction needed, he made his class-room a 
 Bethel— a very house of God — to the young men and boys 
 who in such large numbers had embraced the Saviour. 
 
 Soon the Trustees prevailed upon the efficicnl Superin- 
 tendent to lay aside his modesty and accept the entire sit- 
 uation. In this the Faculty fully concurred, and in a year 
 
42 LIKE OF KOBKRT PAINI?:, D.D. 
 
 or two Roliert Paine was regularly declared the President 
 of La Grange College. In no department of our great 
 work is there greater strain upon all the powers of the 
 conscientious laborer than in this of education. To Presi- 
 dent Paine were committed all the interests of the college. 
 It was his business to select instructors, and recommend 
 them to the Board. He was to attend to the finances. His 
 financial ability was fully brought into requisition, and no- 
 bly did he meet his responsibilities. Without one cent of 
 endowment, without the necessary buildings, without local 
 patronage, and without the appliances and fixtures essential 
 to large success, he entered into this work of the Chui'ch. 
 He was an active member of the Board, and urged forward 
 nil those measures that tended to give the institution a char- 
 acter w^hich w^ould enable it t(3 increase its patronage and 
 extend its influence. In a short time Professor Sims was 
 called to the chair of Languages in Randolph-Macon Col- 
 lege, to the head of which Stephen Oliu was called. About 
 the same tj^ie Professor Hudson was elected to the chair of 
 Mathematics in the Alabama University. C. D. Elliott 
 succeeded Professor Sims, and W. H. Ellison, the son-in-law 
 of Dr. Capers, was called to the chair of Mathematics."' 
 
lUSlloi' OF THE M. K CHL'KCII, SOUTH. 4o 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Conference at Pulaski, Tennessee — Falling Meteors — Pres- 
 ident OF La Grange College — Gifts and Graces. 
 
 TT was in the full of 1838 that I first saw President Paine. 
 1 I was attending my first Conference in the town of Pu- 
 laski, Giles county, Tenn. I was standing with a few min- 
 isters of my class in front of the Methodist Church. One 
 of them said, "There they come," meaning the Committee 
 of Examination. The chairman of this committee Avas 
 President Paine. He was then in the prime of manhood, 
 just thirty-four years old. His movements were the per- 
 fection of ease and grace. His form was so faultless that it 
 Avould have served as a model for the Apollo Belvedere. 
 He was in perfect health. His ample forehead, broad and 
 high, and then without a wrinkle, indicated the placidity 
 of his temper and the might and energy of his powerful 
 brain. His large dark eyes expressed so much of genius, 
 intelligence, and principle as to impress most deeply even 
 the most casual observer. His mouth indicated firmness, 
 and the whole contour of his features impressed me that I 
 was in the presence of a man of exalted character. 
 
 It was during this Conference, on the nights of Tuesday 
 and Wednesday, that the memorable meteoric shower oc- 
 curred, which is regarded as the most magnificent on rec- 
 ord. It was a grand sight. All the stars of heaven seemed 
 to be falling. Many were terrified, and thought the day of 
 judgment at hand. Some wept and others shouted. Many 
 prayed, and made wonderfur confessions of sins committed. 
 President Paine looked upon the scene with rapt attention, 
 and with the admiration of the Christian and the scholar. 
 
44 LIFE OF ROBERT I'AIXE, D.D. 
 
 He had just been reading the account of a similar shower 
 on the 12th and 13th of November, 1799, the night before 
 his own birth. The next morning, before the beginning of 
 Conference, he was quieting all our fears by an explanation 
 of the occurrence and by reference to these former showers 
 of which he had been very recently reading. I looked up 
 to him then as far above ordinary men, and as capable of 
 accomplishing the greatest human results. At as early a 
 day as possible I sought his counsel as to the propriety of 
 my going to college. He was exceedingly cautious. He 
 hesitated to advise me. He spoke of the advantages of a 
 college education, yet would he in no case interfere with 
 conscience. He therefore threw the responsibility upon me. 
 I was still a beardless boy. My father anxiously desired to 
 give me a classical education. I had promised him before 
 leaving home to do as he wished. I felt bound to keep this 
 promise, and therefore made my arrangements to enter at 
 once upon my studies. I so informed Mr. Paine, and he 
 cordially invited me to come as soon as possible, and to come 
 direct to his house. I c m never forget the Monday after- 
 noon when I arrived at the college. I was in a sad plight. 
 I had been five days going one hundred and fifty miles. I 
 was worn and travel-stained. I had walked through the 
 mud and water for nearly ten miles. The President was 
 standing on the platform in front of the college chapel. 
 The boys Avere scattered over the campus. They were in 
 high glee, as the exercises were just closed, and for a time 
 they were free. They did not meet my ideal of college stu- 
 dents. They made the campus ring with their shouts. The 
 President turned to me, and said : " Boys will be boys ; we 
 do not expect them to be saints." I have been reminded a 
 thousand times of this utterance. It illustrated his sympa- 
 thy with boyhood. It showed his knowledge of human 
 nature. It gave mo an insight into his management of his 
 
r.lSIIOP OF THE M. E. rillRCIT, ROl'TII. 45 
 
 hoys, ami revealed to some extent the secret of his pov/cr 
 over them. He diil not attemi)t imi)ossihilities. He did 
 not interfere with the innocent hihirity of youtli. At the 
 right time he deli.uhted in innocent mirth. Hi^ religion 
 never assumed the form of sour godliness. The i)lay of 
 wit, the sense of the ridiculous, the enjoyment of humor, all 
 accompanied by the hearty laugh, were altogether compat- 
 ible with his notions of piety. While he set himself as a 
 flint against all forms of vice, and held with a firm, steady 
 hand the reins of college government, he encouraged all 
 innocent anmsements and healthful gymnastic exercises. 
 He was himself exceedingly swift of foot, and could excel 
 in many feats of agility. Against every form of vice 
 he brought all the power of his great character. The se- 
 verest irony and the sharpest wit when used by him would 
 often make the guilty boy writhe in agony. His denun- 
 ciation of vice in all its forms was the most scathing I 
 ever witnessed. Shame, remorse, anger, pride would by 
 turns rise up, and one or the other would almost compel 
 confession. Still he was patient and forbearing. He was 
 seekino- reformation, and to this end his versatile powers 
 were all employed. College life was always irksome to 
 him. He greatly preferred the work of the pastorate. His 
 preaching was affected by this radical change. His taste 
 became more exacting. He hesitated between the different 
 words Avhich presented themselves to his choice. The hesi- 
 tation seemed to proceed from an entire loss of words. This 
 was not true. Often, as he has told me, a half dozen words 
 would present themselves, and as he desired to use the best 
 he would hesitate and seem confused. The hesitation was 
 often embarrAssing, especially to his friends, who knew his 
 great powers as a sacred orator. During these years, svhcn 
 the least was expected, he made some of his grandest efforts. 
 I recall a night in the college chapel when the Faculty of the 
 
46 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 college and the students were almost the only hearers. 
 He was thoroughly himself. His thoughts, original and 
 stirring, were expressed in the purest English and with 
 faultless taste. His imagination seemed roused to its grand- 
 est creations. His feelings were all aglow, and he made an 
 appeal in behalf of our holy religion which moved that little 
 audience as I have seldom seen an audience moved. When 
 we came out, Professor Ellison said to me: "Did you ever 
 listen to any thing equal to that? That effort would have 
 graced any occasion and gratified any audience. I wrote to 
 Dr. Capers a few days ago, and told him that the Church 
 at large did not know the wonderful power of President 
 Paine. Not at Conference before a large audience, not upon 
 any great occasion, but here at home, with not more than 
 one hundred listeners, he made efforts which I have never 
 heard surpassed." He then went on to compare him with 
 those great preachers Drs. Capers and Pierce, and said, 
 "Paine is the equal of any." The boys were proud of him, 
 and, as college boys will do, when out of his hearing called 
 him by the familar name of " Old Bob." Old Bob, they 
 fcaid, "could outpreach anybody." In the fall of 1833 the 
 Jlev. John C. Burruss came on a visit from Mississippi, and 
 attracted great attention as a most charming preacher. At 
 the Mountain Spring Camp-meeting, held near Courtland, 
 many of the college boys were present. The sermon of 
 Brother Burruss made a most powerful impression and ex- 
 cited universal admiration. He had a sweet, musical voice, 
 and was a word-painter of wonderful artistic skill. He was 
 tin elegant Virginian, a gentleman of the old school. His 
 gestures were graceful, his articulation distinct, his pronun- 
 ciation accurate, and his emphasis tasteful and impressive. 
 I'hen he added to all this manners the most graceful and 
 courtly. His manners would have given him eclat in any 
 of the halls of royaltv in the courts of Europe. North 
 
Binnop OF TiiK M. E. CHrRCii, SOUTH. 47 
 
 Al;il)aiiiJi ^vas at tliat time the center of refinement. Court- 
 land especially boasted of elegant culture, and Mr. Burruss 
 was the admired of all. 80 ])()pular was his preiiching that 
 the boys became alarmed. They began to dread a rival to 
 " Old Bob." Sunday came. The day was all that could 
 l)e desired. The audience was one of the largest ever as- 
 sembled in North Alabama. As usual in tliose days, two 
 sermons were to be delivered at the noon service. Brother 
 Burruss was to preach first. He never appeared to better 
 advantage. He was about forty-five years of age, and at 
 the zenith of his glory. He sehjom made a failure, and on 
 this occasion his effort was equal to his best. The graces of 
 oratory were never exhil^ited before a more appreciative au- 
 dience. He ceased while the charms of the most beautiful 
 word-painting and the softest and tenderest appeals in behalf 
 of the cross of Christ were telling largely upon a deeply 
 interested audience. President Paine was to follow. His 
 text was, "Why stand ye here all the day idle?" The ser- 
 mon of the gifted Burruss had aroused Paine, and fully pre- 
 pared him to do his best. He seemed to be clothed Avith 
 supernatural power and to come with all the authority of 
 of an embassador of Christ. His credentials from the court 
 of heaven could not have been more clearly read had they 
 been written in letters of gold. His caustic satire and ve- 
 hement invective presented to that congregation idleness in 
 a new light. That which had formerly seemed altogether 
 negative in its character now appeared as a sin of high 
 magnitude. Idleness was portrayed as a sin against self, 
 against society, against the Church, and above all against 
 God. There was dignity in labor, and glory in the work 
 of Christ. To labor in his vineyard was man's highest 
 honor. To neglect it was the blight of all progress and the 
 ruin of the soul. Then with a voice like a trumpet, and 
 with an intensity of earnestness worthy of an apostle, he 
 
48 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 invited, lie called with all the authority of his divine mission : 
 "Go work in God's vineyard. Go ivork to-day. To post- 
 pone is ruin, to neglect is death ! " A most profound impres- 
 sion was produced. He had equaled his grandest efforts. 
 He knew nothing of rivalry. He was above that, and so 
 was his great and good friend Mr. Burruss. The success 
 of one was the triumph of the other. I have given this 
 incident largel5^ for the purpose of impressing this gener- 
 ous and noble Christian spirit upon the preachers of this 
 day. Let there be no ungenerous, unchristian rivalry, but 
 as in the case of the now sainted Burruss and Paine, let the 
 success of one be the triumph of the other. No man was 
 louder in his praise than was the noble Virginian. The boys 
 were in ecstasy, and declared that such a sermon was never 
 preached before. 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHUnCir, SOUTH. 49 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Studying Amonc; tiik Rocks — Coij.EiiE Life — Teaciiincj — 
 1\ Ui 1 1) Keq rir.EMENTs — I )a x< ; ers — Courau e. 
 
 IX tlio im'jiiitiine tlic college continued to increase its pat- 
 ronage and to giiin influence. The President had the 
 de;)artnient of Moral Science. He also taught geology and 
 mineralogy. He had a fine opportunity for the study of 
 geology, and he industriously availed himself of* it. He 
 spent much time in the gorges of the mountain. He went, 
 like Hugh Miller, with his hammer in hand, breaking the 
 rocks and studying their composition. He penetrated into 
 the deep, dark caverns, and brought out many beautiful 
 specimens. Fifty years ago he declared that iron and coal 
 in great abundance would be found in the mountains of 
 North Alabama. He became a practical geologist, ahead 
 of most men of his day. At one time he spent twenty-four 
 houi-s without sleep in a cave near Tuscumbia, Ala., at 
 least one hundred feet below the surface. The density of 
 the atmosphere enabled him to endure and perform all this. 
 In his own department he studied Butler, Reid, Brown, 
 Stewart, Abercrombie, Say, Blair, Campbell, Alexander, and 
 Paley, and others. He was unequaled in the lecture-room. 
 Sometimes he would hesitate, and seem to be at a loss, wliile 
 at othei'S he would be sublimely eloquent, and fill the ideal of 
 a great professor. At one time he would abound in illustra- 
 tions — unique, original, beautiful, and throwing, the clearest 
 light upon the most obscure subjects; at another, he would 
 ask a few leading questions, and, without requiring or giving 
 any full analysis of the lesson, would dismiss the class. He 
 4 
 
50 LIFE OF ROBERT RAIXE, D.D. 
 
 required of my class a most rigid and thorough written 
 analysis of Campbell's Philosophy of Rhetoric. This was 
 the greatest task of our college life, and possibly the most 
 profitable. 
 
 At the close of 1835 the health of Mrs. Paine began to 
 fail. The disease was of the lungs. With his invalid Avife 
 he spent the winter in Louisiana at the home of her father, 
 Mr. Craighead. She never returned to La Grange. I had 
 been the inmate of the family for months. She was a model 
 woman, and always treated me as a younger brother. She 
 died at her old home in Nashville, among dear friends and 
 in full hope of a blissful immortality. She was courageous 
 to the laSt, and insisted that her husband should attend the 
 commencement of the college in June, 1836. She knew 
 her end was near, but felt that she would survive until his 
 return. He left La Grange about the 9th of June, 1836, 
 and arrived at Nashville just a few days before she entered 
 into rest. Her funeral-sermon was preached by his fi-iend 
 Dr. J. B. McFerrin. She left two sons, John E. Beck and 
 JaTnes S. They were bright and promising boys, and were 
 almost too young to feel the loss of their noble mother. 
 They both grew to be men. John studied medicine, and 
 died just in the prime of young manhood, and just as he 
 was entering upon a most useful career. James is still liv- 
 ing. At the opening of the session in September, President 
 Paine was at his post lonely and sad. The wife of his youth 
 had been taken, and although not a demonstrative man, he 
 showed in all his walk and conversation that he was indeed 
 bereaved. At the same time he was faithful and diligent 
 in the discharge of all his duties. 
 
 In the winter of 1836-37 Professor Ellison resigned. He 
 was a noble specimen of manhood. For years he had filled 
 his chair with great acceptability and usefulness. His stern, 
 inflexible integrity deeply impressed itself upon the young 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCII, SOUTH. 51 
 
 men of the college. Professor Collins D. Elliott was trans- 
 ferred to the vacant chair, and the writer was elected Pro- 
 fessor of Latin and Greek. At the same time Dr. Thomas 
 Barbour was elected Professor of Chemistry, and Henry 
 Masson, from Paris, France, was chosen Professor of Modern 
 LaniTiiaiTCS. Dr. Barbour was the son of the Hon. Philip 
 p. Barbour, of Virginia, who was one of the Judges of the 
 Supreme Court of the United States. The new professor 
 was a highly educated physician, and gave great satisfaction 
 to the students and Faculty of the college. It was in his 
 family that President Paine found a home for himself and 
 his two little boys. Mrs. Barbour did all in her power to al- 
 leviate their great sorrow. She was a beautiful Christian char- 
 acter, and acted the part of a loving sister to the bereaved 
 husband, and sought to be a mother to his two motherless chil- 
 dren. The President could not have had more pleasant as- 
 sociations in those sad and lonely hours following the death 
 of his precious w ife. 
 
 He was blessed too with a loyal Faculty. They were all 
 men selected by himself, and were ready to give him tReir 
 nnanimous support in the administration of the college. 
 Professor Elliott had shown himself the able professor in 
 the department of Ancient Languages; he now gave him- 
 self with all his energies to the professorship of IVIathemat- 
 ics. He was the close, earnest, faithful student. He gave 
 not more than seven hours to sleep and recreation. He 
 spent the remainder of the twenty-four hours in earnest 
 preparation for his great work and in doing that work. 
 He was seldom or never absent. He was a model of punc- 
 tuality and fidelity. 
 
 Soon after the organization of the new" Faculty in the 
 spring of 1837, a sad occurrence threatened the best inter- 
 ests of the college. In the heat of excitement one student 
 killed another. They both belonged to excellent families, 
 
52 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.T>. 
 
 and of course both had their frieuds. A fearful gloom hung 
 over the college. The students were terribly aroused. It 
 required all the prudence of the Faculty, added to the well- 
 known popularity of the President, to prevent permanent 
 disaster. The disaster was arrested, however, and in a short 
 time all was going on as usual. The power and influence 
 of President Paine were never more severely tried than 
 during these dark days. He stood the test and bore him- 
 self with such prudence as not only to retain but to increase 
 his popularity. His conduct was approved heartily by the 
 friends of the boy who was killed, and he ever after received 
 the sincere gratitude of the friends of the unfortunate youth 
 whose dagger had pierced the heart of his fellow-student. 
 
 It is not often that a man can pass unscathed through an 
 ordeal so trying as was this. It was, however, in the fall of 
 the year 1837 that difficulties arose in the absence of the 
 President which amounted to a rebellion. Upon his return 
 to the college, he found some half dozen suspended students 
 armed and threatening destruction to the college and death 
 to several members of the Faculty. It was feared they would 
 burn the college. Of course they had their friends among 
 the students; consequently there were two parties. One, 
 and the smaller party, for the Faculty, and ready to stand 
 up for law and order ; the other sympathizing with the sus- 
 pended students. Again and again was attack threatened 
 and fully expected. Once a violent youth presented a pis- 
 tol right in front of the President and aiming at his heart. 
 All the manhood of President Paine was aroused. Rising 
 to his full height, without. the quailing of a nerve and with 
 the authority of "right which makes might," he said, "Put 
 down that pistol!" The pistol dropped, and the defiant 
 hand hung limp and powerless by the side of the intimi- 
 dated and trembling youth. It was soon found that the 
 inspiration came upon these rebellious students from a very 
 
lusiioi" OF Tin: m. k. church, south. 53 
 
 had man who kept the vilhige hotel. Consequently the 
 students ^vere forbidden to Inive intercourse with him, or 
 even to enler his hotel. This aroused the denum in the 
 hotel-keeper, whose name was McCaleb, and he threatened 
 (k'ath to the President. At the same time he had a diffi- 
 eulty witli a Mv. White, who was an excellent citizen and 
 a "ood friend to ^Ir. Paine. Mr. AVhite had business in 
 Columbus, Miss., and started there in November, 1837 or 
 1838, on horseback. He was pursued by McCaleb on the 
 fleetest horse to be obtained in the country. When White 
 had reached a few miles out from Columbus, on his return 
 home, he was met by McCaleb and shot through the head. 
 The nmrderer was so close to his victim that the hair and 
 head were burned by the explosion. McCaleb turned from 
 the road, went through the forest, and through a boggy swamp 
 that was never known to be crossed before by any living 
 being, and had always been regarded as impassable. He 
 was never found. It was soon reported that he was hiding 
 in the gorges of the mountain, and seeking an opportunity to 
 commit another murder. This time Mr. Paine was to be 
 the victim. His friends were alarmed. McCaleb was known 
 to have threatened his life, and as he had murdered Mr. 
 White in cold blood, and was a most desperate man, we 
 had our fears for the safety of our beloved President. 
 During all this time the man for whom such anxiety was 
 felt was as free from excitement as though no threat had 
 been made and no danger was to be api)rehended. Cool 
 and self-poised, he never bore himself with more dig- 
 nity, never seemed freer from all trepidation. His home 
 was then one mile from the college, and there were many 
 places along this mountainous pathway in which a cold- 
 blooded assassin midit hide, and from which lie might ac- 
 complish his deadly puiiK)se. I was with him almost daily, 
 and talked with him freely, and he told me invariably that 
 
54 LIFE OF ROBERT TAINE, D.D. 
 
 the emotion of fear had never been felt by him, and tliat he 
 was never more quiet or trustful than during all this excite- 
 ment among his friends. The boys were subdued, and Mc- 
 Calel) never returned. 
 
 I have detailed these facts to show a trait of character 
 which would have fitted him to command an army. He 
 had the highest courage. He never lost his jDresence of 
 mind in the midst of danger. He was the stuff of which 
 martyrs are made. Moral courage, as free from rashness on 
 the one hand as from cowardice on the other, was one of 
 the great features of his exalted character. 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 55 
 
 CHAPTER VIM. 
 
 Unselfishness — Courage — Sorrow. 
 
 AMONG the strong traits of character which exercised a 
 more than usual influence among the students was his 
 unselfish devotion to them and their best interests. He ex- 
 hibited this devotion whenever occasion called for it. In 
 the fall of 1834 or 1835 there was held a camp-meeting at 
 Spring Creek, between La Grange and Tuscumbia. It was 
 just at the beginning of the great abolition excitement, 
 which afterward culminated in the terrible civil war and 
 in the final extinction of slavery. A young Methodist 
 preacher, a student of the college, was appointed on Sat- 
 urday to preach. His theme was the unsatisfying nature 
 of all earthly things. In the discussion he attempted to 
 show that satisfaction could be found alone in the religion 
 of the Lord Jesus Christ. In the absence of religion there 
 .was always unrest. The people might be ignorant or intelli- 
 gent, in a high or low state of civilization, might belong to 
 any class or race, Caucasian or African, and without relig- 
 ion there was no peace, no rest, no satisfaction. He illus- 
 trated this truth by reference to the unsettled state of Eu- 
 rope at the very time at which he was speaking. He also 
 instanced insurrections among the slaves in Virginia. Man 
 without religion cannot be happy. Without it he is like the 
 spirit wandering, seeking rest and finding none. The utter- 
 ance of the youth produced the greatest excitement. He 
 was denounced as an abolitionist, and threatened with Lynch 
 law. Word was sent to his presiding elder that he must not 
 appoint the young man to preach — that he should not preach 
 
50 LIFE OF KOBEKT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 there again. He was kept in entire ignorance of the excite- 
 ment until the storm was ready to burst upon him. The 
 presiding elder and other older ministers decided he should 
 preach. President Paine came to him and said : " I know 
 that you did not mean to stir up the negroes, but some of 
 the people believe you did. Your remarks, in a most ex- 
 aggerated form, were carried to Tuscumbia last night, and 
 men are here to-day who say you shall not preach, and if 
 you attempt to, they are ready to do you violence. You 
 have friends here who will stand by you. It is, however, 
 prudent, and will be for the best, that you make an expla- 
 nation and tell the people that nothing was farther from your 
 intention than to produce any such results as are now feared." 
 Tiie young minister told him that he would make any ex- 
 planation that he might think necessary, though he had not 
 the least fear of danger. Accordingly at eleven o'clock, be- 
 fore at least two thousand people, the poor innocent boy 
 arose to make the explanation. Men were standing in 
 threatening mood all around. He simply said that his 
 remarks had been strangely misunderstood, and that he 
 had never thought of producing any stir among the ne- 
 groes, and that nothing was farther from his thoughts than 
 an insurrection, and that he would deprecate such insurrec- 
 tion as much as any man who condemned his remarks. He 
 did not occupy five minutes in his explanation. He retracted 
 nothing. He expressed no regrets, and asked no pardon. He 
 sat down amid looks which foreboded any thinfj; but ijood. 
 IVesidcnt l\iine arose. He nevei* in all his life appeared to 
 better advantage. His dark eyes flashed. His features 
 were all aglow. Determination, courage, and perfect fear- 
 lessness characterized his whole manner. He said that he 
 had listened to the sermon. "The excitement was as unjust 
 as it was unfounded. Nothing had been said to produce it. 
 A man that would stir up an insurrection among the hajipy 
 
BISHOP OP THE M. K. CHURCH, «(»UTH. 57 
 
 and contented slaves in that peaceful valley wonld be little 
 less than a fiend, *and would deserve universal execration. 
 My young friend docs not belong to that class. He is a 
 born l^outhcrner. His father owned slaves, and he was 
 born and reared among them. He would do them no 
 harm. He would do you none. He is free from all blame, 
 and must not be hurt. He has friends here strong, honor- 
 al)le, and true. You can inflict no Lynch law upon him. 
 1 will head the company of brave men -who will see that 
 not one hair of his head is touched." His courage never 
 shone more conspicuously than on that occasion. His pu- 
 l)il, wdiom he knew well, had unwittingly aroused feelings 
 against himself at once violent and unjust. The President 
 at once placed himself in the front, and was ready to do or 
 die in the defense of right. At first his remarks fell on 
 unwilling ears. Some cried, " Take him out ! " " Stop him ! " 
 But he kept on until the universal hush indicated that he 
 had gained his point and was master of the situation. He 
 ruled the storm. He quelled the mob. Like the great 
 man that he was, he remained strong and firm, command- 
 ing the feelings, breaking down the spirit of the mob, sub- 
 tluing a very excited multitude, and rising in the estimation 
 of all. The religious services immediately followed — songs 
 and prayers, .sermons and exhortations, until the religious 
 excitement overcame all other feelings except with a very 
 few " lewd fellows of the baser sort." 
 
 Tlie Ilev. Alexander Sale i)reaclied one of his strongest 
 sti-mons, and many were at the altar for the prayers of the 
 Church. At three o^clock the Rev. F. A. Owen, who was 
 the presiding elder, insisted that the young preacher should 
 again occupy the pulpit. So without molestation the work 
 went on. Many were converted. So bright and happy 
 were many of those conversions, and so sincere and earnest 
 were the cries for mercv, that a saintly woman who was 
 
58 I iFE OF kobi:kt paine, d.d. 
 
 called on to pray commenced the prayer with these re- 
 markable words: "O Lord, but for the sobs of grief 
 which come from these dear penitents, we could almost 
 believe we had crossed over the river and were now for- 
 ever beyond any more suffering and sorrow." So ended, 
 in songs of peace and prayers full of love and faith, an 
 excitement which, but for his decision of character and 
 magnetic power over congregations, might have ended 
 in a most horrible manner. He was the bow of peace 
 spanning the cloud. He showed that he knew the right, 
 and dared maintain it. The mutterings of wrath did not 
 alarm him. He did his duty, and left the result with his 
 God. I need only add that the boy-preacher is the writer 
 of these pages. He passed through the storm without 
 knowing its violence until it was spent. The brave and 
 generous C. D. Elliott, now of Kashville, Tenn., stood by 
 the President, and firmly sustained his young friend and 
 pupil. He awoke Avithin him then and there a feeling of 
 gratitude which fifty years have not extinguished. Col. R. 
 A. Baker, Major John Cockrill, and others, stood by the 
 young preacher then, and remained true till death. 
 
lUSIIOP OF THE M. E. CHUIICIT, SOUTH. 59 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Secon'd Marriage— Death— (ruiEF — Kevival — Marriage to 
 Miss Mary Eliza Millwater — Family. 
 
 !T was during the year 1837 that he was united in mar- 
 riage to his second wife, Miss Amanda Shaw, the daughter 
 of a Presbyterian minister in Columbia, Tennessee. She 
 was worthy of him, and made his home ever so happy for a 
 lew short months. She died without issue. Her death was 
 universally lamented. Her funeral -sermon Avas preached 
 by the Rev. Alexander Sale, and she was buried in the little 
 cemetery in the mountain. The first Mrs. Wadsworth and 
 President J. W. Hardy both sleep near her. 
 
 Often during these sad years he seemed almost inspired 
 while delivering his lectures to his class. Once in 1839 he 
 was lecturing the senior class on the Evidences of Chris- 
 tianity. He attacked Hume with arguments at once terse, 
 strong, and unanswerable. He opposed his errors with all 
 the power of inexorable logic, and then employed his own 
 inimitable satire and blighting sarcasm Avith powerful effect. 
 Then he appealed to conscience in a manner at once so 
 sincere, so tender, and so touching as to move some of the 
 class to tears. He told me himself that in all his career as 
 an instructor he had never seen such visible manifestations 
 of the power of truth. To the minds of the intelligent class 
 the boasted argument of Hume was the merest begging of 
 the question, and the great philosopher, like a stranded 
 ship, was left to sink in tlie muddy waters of the foulest 
 error. Conviction affecting reason and conscience was pro- 
 duced, and it expressed itself in the i)alli(l countenance and 
 tearful eye, and after awhile in the earnest prayer of peni- 
 
(',() LIF^E OF ROBERT PAINT-:, D.D. 
 
 tence, Avhich was followed by the sound conversion and the 
 shout of praise. 
 
 From that lecture a revival spread through the collcL'^e. 
 Nearly every student was moved. It embraced every chiss 
 and almost every individual. I do not think there were 
 more than six in the college who remained uuconv^erted. 
 Along the slopes of the mountain, in the rooms of the stu- 
 dents, on the way to the church and Avhen returning from 
 it, in the chapel and in the recitation-rooms, the work of 
 Divine grace was manifested. I have seen the President 
 and other members of the Faculty-^ministers — arise in the 
 pul})it, intending to preach or exhort, and begin first to give 
 out an appropriate hymn, and fifteen or twenty would rush 
 up and kneel at the altar. Nothing could be heard but the 
 cries of penitents and the shouts of those who had been con- 
 verted. Such scenes I have never witnessed before or since. 
 It lasted for months. Young converts would lead the 
 prayer-meetings; not one ever refused to pray when called 
 on. There are numbers in heaven to-day the fruits of that 
 revival. The college became vocal with praises. By night 
 and by day the work progressed. Its good effects w^ere seen 
 for years in the college, and its fruits have been felt in the 
 pulpits of the different churches occupied by pastors con- 
 verted during that revival. President Paine always loved 
 to recur to that powerful work of God because its first mani- 
 festations were so clearly the result of an appeal to the 
 reason. 
 
 In November, 1839, the Rev. Pobert Paine was united 
 in marriage to Miss Mary Eliza Millwater, the daughter of 
 Mrs. Turner Saunders by her first marriage. Miss Mill- 
 water was much younger than her husband, but was well 
 fitted to be his wife. She was modest, amiable, sensible, and 
 pious. Mrs. Saunders possessed the highest qualifications 
 of a wife and mother, and was remarkable for her ease and 
 
RISIIOP OF THE M. E. CIIURrir, SOUTH. 61 
 
 ele<rance in refined society, and her unostentatious devotion 
 to our holy religion. Herself the wife of a minister, she 
 rejoiced in this union of her dauirhter to this distinguished 
 minister and future Bisho}) of the Church. 
 
 It is very seldom that a happier marriage occurs. For 
 forty-three years they walked together and were fullv 
 "agreed." To them were born four sons and tliree daii<rh- 
 ters. The sons were liobert, now living in Aberdeen ; John 
 Emory, who studied medicine, graduated with distinction, 
 and died young; George W., now attorney at law and living 
 in Aberdeen, recently married to a granddaughter of Di-. 
 A. L. P. Green, in Nashville, Tenn. The youngest. Dr. 
 AVilliam, unmarried, and lives Avith his mother in Aberdeen, 
 practicing his profession. The daughters are Sarah Felix, 
 married Mr. P. Hamilton, and also lives in Aberdeen ; 
 Ludie, married Rev. John H. Scruggs, of the North Missis- 
 sippi Conference, and at this writing is stationed in Colum- 
 bus, JNIiss.; and Mary, who married Mr. Wendell, now re- 
 siding in Tunica county, Miss. 
 
62 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Professor Tutwiler— Honors — Agents. 
 
 TN the year 1840, Prof. Henry Tutwiler became a member 
 1 of the Faculty. He was the selection of the President. 
 Professors Elliott and Barbour had both resigned and Pro- 
 fessor Tutwiler was to fill the chairs — Mathematics and 
 Chemistry, A more fortunate selection could not have 
 been made. He was thoroughly "furnished" for both 
 departments. A graduate of the University of Virginia, 
 he fully sustained the high character of that institution. 
 He was a profound and rich linguist, a- thorough mathe- 
 matician, and a superior chemist. He 'was learned without 
 pedantry, pious without bigotry, a gentleman without a 
 blemish, a character without a flaw. He gave the full 
 weight of his great character to aid the President and his 
 associates of the Faculty in building up the college, increas- 
 ing its patronage, and enlarging its influence. He continued 
 in the institution until his friend and colleague w^as elected 
 and ordained Bishop in the Church. 
 
 In the year 1842 the degree of Doctor of Divinity was 
 conferred upon President Paine. It came from the AVes- 
 leyan University, Middletown, Conn. ; and Dr. Nathan 
 Bangs was the President, and announced the fact in a 
 characteristic letter to his old friend, with whom he had 
 
 served often in the General Conference, as follows: 
 
 • 
 
 Middletown, Conn., Aug. fi, 1842. 
 
 My Dear Brother: Agreeably to a resolution of the .Joint Board 
 
 of the Wesleyan University, the degree D.D. was conferred on you 
 
 at OUT late commencement, and yourdi])loma is now filled and signod. 
 
 I know not, however, how to send it to you; but if you have an op- 
 
RISITOr OF THE M. E. CITURril, SOUTH. 63 
 
 ix>rtnnity to send for it by the persons calling on me, or, if 1 should 
 be absent (as I expect to leave here), on rrofessor Smith, it can be 
 obtained. 
 
 AVisliing you all temporal and spiritual ]>lessings and mucli pros- 
 })erity in your work, I remain yours atlectionately, Is. Uangs. 
 
 Rev. Kobert Paine. 
 
 This degree was very unexpected by the President. At 
 tlint time there were hardly a dozen doctors of divinity 
 in the Methodist Church. Doctors Bangs, Olin, Durhin, 
 C apers, Fisk, and a few others, made up the whole number. 
 Now they are numbered by the hundred; then hardly by 
 the score. Dr. Paine literally blushed beneath his honors. 
 He was unwilling to be called Doctor, His modesty was 
 as shrinking as his merit was great. He neither desired 
 nor sought any worldly glory. He preferred to be called 
 Brother Paine, or plain Mr. Paine. Merit, real merit, is 
 nearly always modest. It was especially so in his case. I 
 never knew Dr. Paine to boast of any act of his life. He 
 shrunk from applause. He published but few of his ser- 
 mons. His splendid baccalaureate addresses seldom saw the 
 light. He presided over the college for more than sixteen 
 years, and delivered to each graduating class an address 
 worthy of preservation, and many of them of rare excel- 
 lence, and during all that time I think he suffered but two 
 to go to press. He seldom spoke of his own efforts, and 
 never in a laudatory manner. In the early history of the 
 college, when he had but few advanced students, he wrote 
 many speeches to be delivered on commencement occasions. 
 These speeches embraced almost every variety of compo- 
 sition. They were witty, humorous, satirical, moral, phil- 
 osophical, and religious, by turns. AVhen the address was 
 announced, he simply said, '' Written for the occasion." 
 They exhibited the greatest versatility of both tact and tal- 
 ent, and added largely to the interest of commencement- 
 week. Only a few knew tliat he was the author. I have 
 
r.4 LIFE OF r.OEEPvT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 often lamented the loss of these productions. Published, 
 they would have placed liini among the keenest satirists of 
 the age. Against popular vices he was intensely severe, 
 whilst follies, *' humbugs," etc., he laid on in such a manner 
 as to make them thoroughly ludicrous and provoke uni- 
 versal mirth and laughter. Had he been ambitious of fame 
 in this direction, he might have placed his name along-side 
 those of Juvenal and Horace as a satirist. He always seemed 
 to me to shun rather than court praise, to decline rather 
 than seek honors. He had now received, without seeking 
 either directly or indirectly, the degree of Master of Arts 
 from the University of Nashville, and of Doctor of Divinity 
 from the Wesleyan University. He had fairly " won his 
 spurs," but was almost too modest to wear them, and pre- 
 ferred always to conceal them from public view. 
 
 It may not be amiss, before leaving the college to which 
 he gave so many years of his valuable life, to present to the 
 reader the men whom he selected as agents to solicit and 
 collect money for building and endowing the institution. 
 Among the earliest was Rev. William McMahon. He was 
 in many respects one of the first men in the Conference. 
 He was a fine financier, a good manager of men, a superior 
 preacher, and joossessed of great energy and perseverance in 
 any good cause. He was devoted to Methodism and to 
 INIethodist education. He loved North Alabama, and La 
 Grange was the brightest crown of North Alabama Method- 
 ism. Dr. McMahon secured some money and was well re- 
 ceived in Georgia, and obtained partial cooperation from the 
 ]\Iethodists of that great State. La Grange, however, was 
 soon found to be too remote, and the means of access were 
 then too difficult, to allow of any continued patronage. In 
 a few years Emory College began its useflil career. It was 
 the object of President Paine to have the cooperation of all 
 the Southern Conferences, and make La Grange a great cen- 
 
r.isiioi' OF Tin: M. i:. cirrKcii, 8(3utii, 65 
 
 tor, attnu'tiiii,^ its i)ii])ils l)y tlie liuiidivd.s uiid from a united 
 ^M)uth. Had lie .siieeecded in thif<, lie would have acconi- 
 j)li8hed much more than he did. As it was, the Centenary 
 College in Mississippi, and the school tii>tat Covington and 
 then at Oxlbrd, Ga., now Emory College, taught him that 
 the concentration of a united South upon La Grange would 
 be impostsible. ^ 
 
 John B. McFerrin was also employed in his youth to 
 plead the cause of th.e college before the Methodists of 'W n- 
 nessee. He was then a strong man, and in the vigor of a 
 rol)ust young manhood. He did what he could, but was not 
 satisfied to give his youthful vigor to begging money for the 
 college. He, however, learned well the art of begging, and 
 became almost irresistible in that department of our work. 
 If the man lives who can invent more arguments, or exhibit 
 more tact, or make stronger appeals in behalf of any great 
 benevolent enterprise than Dr. John B. McFerrin, I have 
 never known him. He was trammeled in this agency by 
 some resolution of Conference requiring that he should not 
 ask for large sums. He wanted no bands on his free liml)s, 
 and after a year's toil, not altogether fruitless, he returned 
 to the pastorate. * 
 
 I must not omit the Rev. Littleton Fowler, who became 
 a most successful agent, and served the college until he was 
 sent as a missionary to Texas to supply the place made 
 vacant by the death of Dr. Martin Ruter. At one time it 
 was thought that he would be able to secure ample endow- 
 ment for the college. He was a fine specimen of the Ken- 
 tucky Methodist preacher, and both as a man and as a 
 preacher deserved the highest respect and the lai-gest con- 
 fidence. 
 
 President Paine went also into the local ranks, and found 
 the Rev. Simpson Shepherd and secured his services as 
 agent for the college. Mr. She])herd was a warm-hearted 
 
f)6 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 Irishman of magnificent presence. Among a thousand men 
 he "would be pointed out as a leading character. Then, lie 
 was an eloquent preacher and superior to most men on the 
 platform. His rich Irish brogue added to the force of well- 
 chosen language and to the power of a voice of unusual 
 ccmpass, tone, and strength. He did active and successful 
 service for years ^r the college. Among the most success- 
 ful of the agents employed by President Paine was the Rev. 
 J. W. Hanner. As a preacher he had no superior in the 
 Tennessee Conference. Dr. Hanner traveled extensively 
 over Alabama. He was unremitting in his toil, and self- 
 denying to an unusual extent. He preached, he visited, he 
 made j^rivate appeals, he delivered public addresses, and by 
 every means in his power sought to do the work of a master- 
 workman. At the time of his employment as a college 
 agent, John W. Hanner would have been acceptable in any 
 pulpit — welcome to any city church in the Connection. 
 
 These were some of the men selected by President Paine 
 and employed by the Trustees to aid him in the difficult 
 task of building up La Grange College. That the col- 
 lege was not endowed was his misfortune, but not his 
 fault. It commenced its career without endowment and 
 without buildings. To succeed, buildings must be erected, 
 and a Faculty equal to the best miLst be engaged. The 
 tuition fees were not at all equal to the support of six pro- 
 fessors. To pay the professors, agents had to collect from 
 two to three thousand dollars a year. This, added to the 
 tuition fees, would give a support by no means liberal to the 
 Faculty. At one time I knew the President to give of his 
 salary one thousand dollars in order to save the college. 
 He did this voluntarily for years. That is to say, his salary 
 Avas eigliteen hundred dollars, and he voluntarily reduced it 
 to eight hundred dollars a year, and thus saved the insti- 
 tution. Other officers imitated his generous sacrifice and 
 
>JI6II()P OF TIIK M. E. CIirHCII, HOUTIL 67 
 
 tollowed his example. In this ^vay, and in this way alone, 
 the college could have been ])re8erved and continued on its 
 career of usefulness. I doubt whether the annals of any 
 college will show greater sacrifice than was shown in this 
 one act of its devoted President. I was a member of the 
 Faculty at the time, and was deeply impressed by his man- 
 ner when he came to me with the proposkion, and felt that 
 he deserved all the confidence and the honor which he en- 
 joyed. His sacrifice of one thousand dollars a year, and 
 thereby securing a sacrifice of two or three hundred from 
 each member of the Faculty, seems to me now as one of 
 the noblest acts of a noble life, and one rarely equaled in 
 the history of colleges. Besides making this sacrifice, he 
 gave as liberally as any other man to the institution. By 
 employing the best agents to be found, either in the Confer- 
 ence or out of it, by securing the best talents in the Faculty, 
 and visiting the Legislature again and again-, by labor and 
 self-denial he labored to give to the Church and to the 
 country an institution of learning which he hoped would 
 be perpetual. Was all his labor lost? We will see. 
 
G8 LIFE OF EGBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Carlos G. Smith — College Life Closing — Work 
 Accomplished. 
 
 IN the year 1843 I was called to the presidency of a new 
 enterprise — a school for young ladies at Athens, Ala. 
 Dr. Carlos G. Smith was elected my successor as Professor 
 of Languages in La Grange College. A wiser selection 
 could not have been made. Dr. Smith entered uj^on his 
 duties in September, 1843. He soon proved himself a mas- 
 ter-Avorkman that needed not to be ashamed. He was an ac- 
 complished scholar and an elegant Christian gentleman, 
 and did faithful service to the college. The college was 
 possibly never better manned than at this time. It com- 
 manded wide and universal respect. For years it kept 
 along-side of the best institutions of the country. The 
 time was rapidly approaching when its laborious and 
 gifted President was to be called to a more responsible po- 
 sition in the Church, and a much wider field of action. 
 Let us see what had been done in the way of molding 
 character and in sending out educated men to bless the 
 Church and the Avorld. 
 
 Among the ministers sent out were the Rev. William 
 R. Nicholson, now a Bishop in the Reformed Episcopal 
 Church ; the Rev. Joseph E. Douglass, for a long time suc- 
 cessfully engaged in the great work of education ; James O. 
 Williams, who was wonderful for his magnetism, and some- 
 times for eloquence of a high order; P. J. Eckles, a man 
 of rare merit, accurate scholarship, and patient devotion to 
 duty; C. W. Rozzell, after graduating with honor, entered 
 ni>()ii tlie work of the ministry, and while using his in- 
 
lilSIIOP OF THE M. E. CHUHCII, SOUTH. 69 
 
 fluence and establishing a name worthy of mention among 
 the good and great, Avas called to his final reward; Dr. C. 
 W. Bell, one of the most distingnished ministers of the 
 Cumberland Presbyterian Church, is another of the noble 
 band sent out from La Grange College during the adminis- 
 tration of Dr. Paine. Then A. P. McFei'rin, Bynum, Dun- 
 can, Henning, and many others, among whom we take pleas- 
 ure in mentioning Dr. Alva Johnson and Rev. R. V. Taylor, 
 two noble men, the latter still a member of the jNIemphis 
 Conference, holding diplomas witli the well-known signa- 
 ture of Robert Paine. Then among lawyers we name 
 Edward O'Neal, now Governor of Alabama; the talented 
 Lewis, also Governor of the State in troublous times; and 
 the versatile Clements, the rival of Yancey, both a poet and 
 novelist, a politician and lawyer, a writer and a speaker. 
 No State ever l)oasted a purer citizen, a nobler man, a gen- 
 tler Christian, an abler jurist than was William M. Byrd, 
 a graduate of the college in its early days, 1837. As re- 
 tiring as Cincinnatus, and as meritorious as he was modest, 
 he lost his life by a railroad accident while in the midst of 
 usefulness, and while returning from a mission of peace. 
 Judge W. B. Wood, who is ever foremost in the great bat- 
 tle of life, foremost in Church and in State, ready to lead an 
 army or hold up the banner of the cross, received his train- 
 ing from this successful educator. Judge H. C. Jones, the 
 able prosecutor and powerful advocate, the terror of evil- 
 doers, and one of the most respected of the citizens of Ala- 
 bama, was a graduate in 1840. Gen. Thomas Rivers, the 
 only brother of the writer, a lawyer in ^Memphis, Tenn., 
 Knd a Representative in Congress from the Memphis District, 
 was also an aliimuus of La Grange, and among its earlier 
 graduates. Col. Thomas Avery was also a lawyer of dis- 
 tinction and a member of Congress from ]Mrinphis, Tenn. 
 He was a man of talents and tireat moral worth. Joel L. 
 
LIFE OF KOBEKT PAiXK, D.D. 
 
 Pulliuin, one of the most successflil members of the bar in 
 West Tennessee, died a humble Christian. Of physicians 
 we may mention Dr. Joseph Towler, of Cokimbia, Tenn., 
 who has long stood at the head of his profession, and is 
 to-day one of the brightest lights in Tennessee, a scholar, a 
 gentleman, a Christian worthy to be sent forth by the form- 
 ing hand of Robert Paine. Dr. J. J. Pulliam, like his 
 brother the lawyer, became eminent in his profession, hon- 
 oring his alma mater, and honored, respected, and lamented 
 by all who knew him. Dr. Thomas Maddin, of Nashyille, 
 Tenn., whose name is the synonym of all that is courtly in 
 the gentleman and skillful in the physician, the worthy son 
 of a noble sire, and the equally worthy pupil of a dis- 
 tinguished teacher, is numbered among the alumni whom 
 President Paine sent forth to bless the world. 
 
 So we could go on enumerating men, in eyery profession 
 and in no profession, who w^ere deyeloped into noble man- 
 hood by him wdiose life was one continued scene of successes 
 both in the school-room and in the pulpit. He eyer exer- 
 cised tow^ard his old pupils the exultant feeling which 
 filled the heart of the Roman matron when, pointing to her 
 sons, she said, " These are my jew^els." He met them every- 
 where, as he Avent all oyer the South ; and wheneyer he met 
 them there w^ere warm greetings and tender memories. 
 
 Augusta College, Kentucky, was possibly the first great 
 collegiate institution — in all respects a college — undertaken 
 by the Methodists of the South. La Grange College was 
 the second in point of time. As we haye showii, it was in 
 1830. This was before Randolph-Macon, and before Emory, 
 of Georgia. Was all the labor lost which Dr. Paine and 
 his associates performed during these sixteen years and six 
 months? We think not. Dr. Wadsworth succeeded to the 
 presidency in 1847, and was in turn succeeded by President 
 Hardy. These were able men, and deyoted much time and 
 
liisiior OF Tin: m. e. ciiukch, south. 71 
 
 lahcr to the buildiiiix up of the college. In 1853 President 
 Hardy died. He was universally lamented. His death 
 Avas a terrible blow to the college. Under another Presi- 
 dent, in the year 1854, the people of Florence offered to pay 
 off an old debt, to give to the Conferences better ])uildings, 
 and to secure fixtures, local patronage, and endowment suf- 
 ficient to justify removal. The college was removed and 
 it^ name changed. At the breaking out of the great civil 
 war in 1861, it numbered two hundred and twenty-five stu- 
 dents, and graduated a class of thirty-three. It also had a 
 clear endowment of fifty thousand dollars, and was entirely 
 out of debt. During the war its endowment was lost, and 
 its doors were closed. Bishop Paine, in his " Notes of. Life," 
 says: "Randolph-Macon opened under charter in Mecklen- 
 burg, Va.— I believe in 1832 — while I organized La Grange 
 in 1830." 
 
 Randolph-]Macon has been transferred to Ashland witli- 
 out a change of name or of relations, while La Grange Col- 
 lege changed its location to Florence, Ala., and has since 
 become the "Normal Alabama College," and is now a use- 
 ful and flourishing institution. This is true; the college 
 at Florence was actually given to the State of Alabama by 
 the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. So the work of 
 Bishop Paine and his associates and successors still lives in 
 an institution which promises great and increasing useful- 
 ness to the State which received it as a free gift from the 
 Church. The propriety of this transfer of a valuable prop- 
 erty, unincumbered by debt, will not be discussed in these 
 pages. Suffice it to say that to the last of his life Bishop 
 Paine always regarded the school at Florence as the con- 
 tinuation of the one organized by himself in 1830. So 
 most certainly it is, though under another name and under 
 different aus})ice*?. Its value is largely due to the early 
 efforts of I*resideut I*aiue and his associates. 
 
72 LIFE OF ROBETIT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 CHAPTER X I. 
 
 Love for the Chukch. 
 
 1BEG the reader to pause for a moment and to consider 
 one of the leading traits of character as deveh^ped in the 
 life we are now sketching. This trait was love for the Meth- 
 odist Church. From the moment of his conversion and im- 
 mediate connection with the Church to the day of his death, 
 he never would have hesitated to die for its interests in obe- 
 dience to the call of the Holy Spirit ; and from love for the 
 Church he surrendered wealth, position, worldly prospects, 
 and entered upon the troubled life and severe labors of an 
 itinerant Methodist preacher. At that early day ^lethod- 
 ism was not what it is now. It was then a despised sect. 
 It had not in all its borders a single minister who ever 
 ranked as a Doctor of Divinity. Colleges and universities 
 had failed to recognize the talents and learning even of our 
 Bishops. All these institutions of learning were in the 
 hands of other denominations, and were presided over by 
 many of their ministers. At the period at which Robert 
 Paine entered upon his great life-work I do not suppose that 
 a single State university was or ever had been presided over 
 by a Methodist minister. With a salary of a hundred dol- 
 lars a year, there was no prospect of ever rising to wealtli. 
 He could have chosen other of the learned professions, and 
 have won both wealth and honor. His personal magnetism 
 would have made him a leader in politics, while his wit and 
 sarcasm, together with his clear, logical mind and natural 
 powers of oratory, would have soon placc<l him in the first 
 ranks as a lawver. But love for the Church was strongei 
 
BlSIIOr OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTIL 73 
 
 tlian love tor any of the ciuolunieiits wliit'h could be secured 
 by any other profession. The same enthusiastic passion sent 
 him into the then wilderness of Alabama to preach the gospel 
 to its sparse and scattered ]>opulati()n. His circuit occupied 
 nearly one-fourth of the State, and his labors were so great 
 as to almost wreck for the time being his strong constitution. 
 After most extraordinary and continuous labor, he went up 
 to the Conference almost an invalid, and the presiding 
 Bishop saw it would not do for him to be returned to that 
 field. It was love for the Church alone that caused him 
 to take charge of La Grange College. He had to make 
 sacrifices of which he never made any boast and which 
 were never known to the Church. He had large and valu- 
 able possessions in Nashville, which he might have kej)! 
 and looked after until they would have yielded him enough 
 to satisfy any reasonable desires for wealth. As all his in- 
 terests were in Alabama, he sold this city property before 
 Nashville had fairly entered upon its career as a prosperous 
 city. He knew that he was making a great worldly sacri- 
 fice, but the Church demanded his labors elsewhere, and 
 the sacrifice was readily made. 
 
 Again and again had he resigned his position as President 
 of La Grange College, and as often had he withdrawn it 
 because the Church required that he continue at the seat 
 of her cherished institution. 
 
 At a certain time, when the election of delegates to the 
 General Conference was about to begin, I knew him to rise 
 in his seat, and beg the brethren for the sake of the Church 
 not to cast their votes for him. He said: "We have here 
 a distinguished transfer from another Conference. He ought 
 to be elected. His talents, his devotion to the Church, his 
 having heretofore filled the place of delegate from another 
 Conference, and his great influence in the General Confer- 
 ence, all demand that he be sent as a delegate from the 
 
74 LIFE OF KOKERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 Tennessee Conference, of which, by transfer, he has just be- 
 come a member. Brethren, I urge his chiims, and l)eg that 
 you vote for him and not for me." I recollect well the time 
 and the scene of these remarks. The transfer was elected, 
 and so was Robert Paine, We could not do without his 
 services in the General Conference just at that important 
 juncture. 
 
 At a still later period it was love for the Church and a 
 sense of duty that caused him to accept the office of Bisho]). 
 He says in his diary: "What shall I do? Am not suited 
 for its heavy responsibilities, constitutionally unfit — too 
 hasty, too little self-|X)ssession, want of decision ; above all, 
 want of more piety, absence from my dear family. I give 
 myself to God and his Church for life and in death. May 
 all be his! What shall I do? I almost sink under it. O 
 God, to whom I have long since devoted myself and my 
 all, direct me!" 
 
 He loved the doctrines of the Church, He was a thor- 
 ough Arminian and a most devoted Methodist. Regenera- 
 tion and the witness of the Spirit he had experienced on 
 the memorable 9th of October, 1817. He never doubted 
 that. The following letter will show how he regarded the 
 doctrine of sanctification, as taught by Mr. Wesley and 
 other standard writers in our Church. The letter was writ- 
 ten to the Rev. J. S. Spencer. He says: 
 
 Shortly after ray conversion — indeed, I may say at once — I began 
 to exhort my family to turn to God. I could not be silent, and soon 
 1 was trying to preach. I scarcely paused to reason on the question 
 of my call to the ministry, but was in the work and at it directly. I 
 have not since felt at liberty to quit the itinerant work. Long 
 and earnestly I sought the blessing of perfect love. Once or twice 
 while preaching upon it I liave felt constrained to say I know the 
 blessing is attainal)le from my own overpowering emotions of the 
 divine fullness, but unfortunately I have not, after calm reflection, 
 felt satisfied as to my having attained it. I believe in it, pray for it, 
 
BISIIOI* OF THE M, E. CIII'IUII, SOUTH. 75 
 
 and amid inaiiy disrouram'iiK'nts arising fmni my own want of faith, 
 am still trying to he wholly tlevoted to Ciod. 1 wish 1 was as well 
 satislied of my attainment of this hlessing as 1 am of the truth «f the 
 Christian religion and of the doctrine ol' Christian holiness. 1 re- 
 gard it as the great (Usldirnliiiii of the ministry and meml)ershi[>. We 
 need holiness more than any thing else. We need other things, many 
 things, but (lu's most of all. We need it to make lis happy and use- 
 ful. The C'huri'h will degenerate, and cease to be a working and 
 spiritual body, unless she aspires after holiness; and nothing but ho- 
 liness will keep alive in our preachers the simple, fervent, and self- 
 sacrificing spirit of our fatliers. For this there is no substitute as to 
 success or final happiness. Methodists are committed by their cr^ed 
 to this doctrine. Consistency demands that, believing it, we seek the 
 blessing. We are the only Church which has boldly taken the ground. 
 If we be faithful to it, God will not abandon us. If not faithful, he 
 will cast us ofi" and raise up another more devoted and holy people. 
 He ought to do so, and will do it. He cannot deny himself, and ho- 
 liness is his requirement — "Be ye holy, for I am holy;" "Without 
 holiness, no man shall see the Lord." This work is begun in con- 
 version, but its consummation in perfect love has as distinctive and 
 clear a witness from the Holy Spirit as our regeneration. It is our 
 privilege and duty to seek this state and this evidence, God help 
 us! Yours truly, K. Paine. 
 
 I doubt whether any meinber or minister in all our vast 
 Connection ever loved the Church with a deeper, holier 
 fervor. 
 
 At two different periods in his life he felt called upon tc 
 defend the peculiar doctrines of jNIethodism against the at- 
 tacks of ministers of sister denominations. This he did 
 bravely and successfully. He showed the rarest ability in 
 ecclesiastical and doctrinal conflicts. Calvinism felt the 
 shock throughout the South. From the day that its errors 
 were exposed by Robert Paine, then in his early manhood 
 in Tennessee, to this very time, the ablest ministers of that 
 iaith have failed to preach the revolting points of the West- 
 minster Creed. Election and reprobation, as tauglit in the 
 Shor^cJ' Catechism, and as argued in Calvin's Institutes, 
 
76 LIFE OF FOB! RT FATNE, D.D. 
 
 1 live not been often presented even from Calvinistic pulpits. 
 Both with his pen and in public preaching he exposes errors 
 Avhich he regarded as dishonoring to God as they were op- 
 l)osed to his revealed will. 
 
 Yet with all his love for the Church of his choice, and with 
 his readiness to defend the truth and to oppose error, he was 
 alwa3's charitable and courteous. After a debate which lasted 
 for days, the Christian spirit which prevailed between the com- 
 batants so affected the listeners that a deep religious impres- 
 sicgi was made. This being followed up on the next Sunday 
 by an appeal from Mr. Paine, a great awakening succeeded. 
 The revival which followed was one of great power, and it 
 did not end until there was a general baptism of the Spirit 
 and many were happily converted to God. Both parties to 
 the contest engaged in the revival, and as a rare occurrence 
 a hotly contested debate terminated in a splendid revival of 
 religion. 
 
 And yet with all his love for the Church of his choice — 
 its doctrine and jiolity — he was as far from bigotry as he 
 was from indecision. A pronounced Methodist, he was ever 
 ready to give the right-hand of fellowship to all that named 
 the name of Christ. A Methodist, but not a sectarian ; de- 
 cided, but not bigoted; earnest, but not exclusive — he coni- 
 nianded and deserved the love of all true followers of Clu'ist. 
 
r.rsiior of tiik m. e. ciiriMii, sorxii. 77 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The General Conference of 1844— The Sequence. 
 
 THE General Conference of 1844 was now approaching. 
 Dr. Paine was of course a delegate. Bishop Andrew 
 in the interval of the Conferences of 1840 and 1844 had 
 become connected with the institution of slavery. He was 
 without a stain upon his moral or religious character. His 
 connection arose from having married a woman who was a 
 slave-holder. He went to the Conference with no apprehen- 
 sion of the terrible ecclesiastical storm which Avould be raised 
 around his devoted head. He and his friends in the South 
 soon saw the storm gathering. He w^as to be sacrificed. 
 There was no alternative. It was resolved to be the sense 
 of the Conference that he no longer exercise episcopal func- 
 tions. To submit to the passage of this resolution without 
 a protest would have been unjust to the Bishop, and, as Dr. 
 Olin admitted, a perpetual bar to the continuance of Meth- 
 odism in the slave-holding States. 
 
 Good and great men differed. The struggle was between 
 giants. The Bishop was virtually deposed. The South must 
 sustain him. His case excited the deepest sympathies of the 
 best men in the North. No one can ever forget the speech 
 of Dr. Olin. He himself had been connected with slavery. 
 He had severed the relations so for as he was individually 
 concerned by selling his slaves. He believed this to be legal 
 and proper. He was to go North. His health demanded 
 it. He could not carry his slaves with him. He sold them, 
 and used the money. He felt that the good .of the Church 
 demanded now the immolation of his friend, who was cer- 
 tainly no more guilty than himself. So the work was done. 
 
78 LIFE OF ROIJEPvT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 Dr. Paine was placed on the committee of nine appointed 
 especially to devise means for a peaceable separation. Pru- 
 dent and good men from both sections were on that com- 
 mittee. Dr. Paine was chairman. Never was prudence 
 more needed. Never was there a greater demand for Chris- 
 tian charity. The committee acted wisely and well. The 
 South was satisfied — nay, more, was gratified. If peace 
 could not be enjoyed except by a severance of Church rela- 
 tions, then was it their duty to separate. Let there be no 
 strife. This was the Christian motto. To conserve peace 
 was the design of this committee, and the whole object of 
 its action. The peace-loving Capers, the majestic Winans, 
 the sweet-spirited Drake, the two Pierces — father and son — 
 and the peerless Bascom, with others from the South, were 
 lending all their influence to carry out this grand measure. 
 Then there were those from the North, not less pious, and 
 not less eflacient in jDromoting a measure believed to be for 
 the best interests of both sections. Such men as Nathan 
 Bangs, Bishop Morris, and Stephen 01 in brought to bear 
 the weight of great character and the poAver of holy charity 
 to effect an arrangement which would quiet the storm by 
 pouring oil upon the troubled waters. The action of the 
 Conference of 1844 resulted, as is well known, in the or- 
 ganization of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. In 
 1845 the convention of delegates chosen in exact accordance 
 with the plan of separation assembled in Louisville, Ky. 
 At that convention the organization was peacefully and 
 unanimously effected. In its proceedings Dr. Paine was 
 conspicuous. His firmness, caution, wisdom, and piety were 
 all needed and brought into requisition. He delivered be- 
 fore the convention an address admirable in its spirit, con- 
 vincing in its logic, and powerfiil in its effect. The conven- 
 tion appointed the meeting of the first Southern General 
 Conference to be held in Petersburg, Va. It was presided 
 
RISIIOP OF THK M. E. CIIURCir, SOUTH. 70 
 
 over by Bit^hops Soiile and Andrew. It was then manifest 
 tliat both these Bishops wouhl eontinue their episcopal func- 
 tions. The adlierence of Bishop Soule to the Southern 
 Church was the result of deliberate reflection and of con- 
 scientious convictions on the part of that great and good 
 man. He was the senior Bishop of the Methodist Episco- 
 ])al Church. He was revered at the South as almost with- 
 out a peer. He was "every in.ch a man," and every inch 
 a Chi-istian of the highest type. So the Southern organi- 
 zation could in no sense be termed a secession. It was le- 
 gitimate. It was i)roper. It was aj)proved of God. It 
 contained all the cardinal doctrines and the discipline of 
 the undivided Church. Had the terms of separation been 
 rigidly and properly complied with by both Churches, 
 North and South, much evil would have been averted, 
 and much violent controversy avoided. The plan was de- 
 vised by the committee of nine, and was veil carried out b} 
 the Louisville Convention. To Dr. Paine as much as to 
 any other man are we indebted for this great pacific meas 
 ure, honorable to both sections and perfectly acceptable to 
 the South. He was faithful to the high trust committed to 
 him, and though opposed to controversy was drawn into 
 one of rather a heated nature with the Rev. Thos. E. Bond. 
 That controversy will not be revived in these pages. Through 
 it all Dr. Paine adhered to the most rigid demands of truth, 
 and ahvays showed himself the courtly gentleman and the 
 dignified Christian minister. 
 
 A long and friendly correspondence '\vas kept up between 
 Dr. Paine and Bishop Morris in reference to the best inter- 
 ests of the Church. He and Bishop ^lorris had been friends 
 from early manhood, and this friendship continued unbro- 
 ken and rather cemented, more tender and confidential, all 
 through the heated controversy which attended and followed 
 the organization of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. 
 
so LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 Amid all this strife, these two men continued to love each 
 other as did David and Jonathan. Their example was beau- 
 tiful. Their Christian charity shone all the brighter because 
 of the bitterness which was fostered to an extent which re- 
 flected no honor or glory upon Christian character, and 
 which certainly lessened the world's respect for the religion 
 of meekness, forbearance, and love. 
 
 But let the dead past bury its dead. The long strife, we 
 trust, is ended forever. One of his last acts was to have 
 Bishop Peck at his house, and to enjoy with him the sweet- 
 est Christian converse. Bishop Peck acknowledged the hos- 
 pitality with the most touching evidences of fraternal love. 
 To see these two Bishops, one above four-score years, the 
 other past his three-score and ten, commune in the spirit of 
 love, and enjoy each other's society as they did, were a ben- 
 ediction in any age of the Church. Especially was it a ben- 
 ediction at the time and under the circumstances in Avhich 
 this beautiful display of fraternal love was manifested. 
 
BrSTIOP OF THE M. E. CIIURCir. SOUTH. 81 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 General Conp^erence of 184G — Strugglp:s — Victory. 
 
 THUS for we have followed Dr. Paine all alonir his early 
 years and to the ])ri!ne of mature manhood. We have 
 seen him the sprightly, mischievous school-boy; the mer- 
 chant's faithful clerk ; tlie close, earnest student, poring over 
 the classics and delving into mathematics. We have seen 
 him the humble penitent, the happy Christian, and the 
 youthful missionary. Like David, he goes forth with peb- 
 ble and sling to conquer the Goliath of sin. Without prep- 
 aration, without license, without more than one month's ex- 
 perience of the religion of the Lord Jesus Christ, he is found 
 preaching the everlasting gospel. On he moves and upward 
 he rises until he has become the popular young preacher, 
 attracting crowds of hearers in the rising towns of Tennes- 
 see, and especially in the promising young city of Njishville, 
 Tenn. A presiding elder and a delegate to the General 
 Conference immediately after his ordination as elder in the 
 Church of God, he continues the same humljle, i)rayerful, 
 faithful man. The loved companion of Bishop INIcKendree, 
 and aiding that venerable man in the preparation of the 
 Bishops' Address to the General Conference before he was 
 twenty-five years of age, he seems all unconscious of the 
 height to which his piety and talents and singular moral 
 worth have raised him. For sixteen years we have seen 
 him the rising President of one of our oldest colleges. In 
 all these positions he exhibits the highest manhood and a 
 ca})ability for any work to which the Church might call 
 him. The General Conference of 1846, which was held at 
 Petei-sburg, Va., found it necessary to elect two Bishops. 
 G 
 
82 LIFE OF PtOBEKT FAIXE, B.D. 
 
 Bishop Soiile was getting to be an old man. Then, he was 
 troubled with a chronic disease which often unfitted him for 
 duty. Bishop Andrew could be called upon for years to 
 come, but he could not do all the work needed. William 
 Capers and Robert Paine were chosen to this most impor- 
 tant and responsible office. It was not desired, not expected 
 by Dr. Paine. He had a young and growing family. He 
 loved his home. He shrunk from notoriety. It was repug- 
 nant to his feelings, and for a time opposed to his judgment. 
 He hesitated. He prayed. He struggled. He spent a 
 night of sleepless agony. He passed through all the throes 
 which have accompanied great men when called by Provi- 
 dence to a great work. He almost rebelled. Conscience 
 — tender, well instructed, and which had always been kept 
 void of offense toward God and man — asserted its authority. 
 At last he yielded, and was happy. The Rev. Fountain E. 
 Pitts, who spent the night with him, and saw the depth of 
 his agony and witnessed the fearful struggles of his great 
 soul, and who had been a great revivalist, said that the con- 
 flict reminded him of the wails of penitence which he had 
 often heard from persons under the deepest conviction for 
 sin. And he further said the victory was as complete as 
 he had ever witnessed in the conversion of a soul. When 
 the struggle was over and the victory had been won, a holy 
 calmness, a great submission to the Divine will, and a firm 
 resolve to meet all the responsibilities of his high and holy 
 office, followed, and he rose to the full height of his great 
 calling, and settled the question then and there forever. 
 Such was the conflict of soul through which he passed to 
 the highest office in the Church — the highest office on earth. 
 He was not elated. The office had sought him. The honor 
 had come unbidden. Duty to God and man, made clear by 
 the word of God and by the Holy Spirit, was the one great 
 and all-sufficient i-eason for assuming such grave resiH)nsi- 
 
RISIIOP OF THE M. E. CIIURf'II, SOUTH. 83 
 
 bilities. So on Tliunsday, tlio 14tli day of May, 1846, he 
 was most solemnly set a})ait and ordained to the work of a 
 Bishop in the JMethodist Ki)ise()pal CMiurch, South. The 
 services were conducted by 13isho})s Soule and Andrew. 
 They were deeply impressive. It was in Washington Street 
 Church, Petersburg, Va. The congregation was large, and 
 the scene a hallowed one. All the men engaged in the cer- 
 emony were men of mark. Bishop Soule arose in all the 
 dignity of his high office, and never appeared more a Bishop 
 than at that time. Bishop Andrew, meek, subdued, yet 
 strong, showed that his episcopal robes were still unsoiled, 
 and that they had not been rudely torn from his manly 
 form. Dr. Capers, radiant with celestial light, gentle as 
 John, evangelical, earnest, eloquent, and deeply pious, 
 received with meekness the mantle of Asbury, and by the 
 imposition of hands was most solemnly consecrated as an 
 overseer of the Church of God. Robert Paine, younger by 
 many years than his colleague, in the maturity of his great 
 intellect, with a self-abnegation worthy of a martyr, with 
 victory already flashing from his dark, expressive eyes, and 
 with submission, firmness, and faith mingling with the high 
 est resolve, solemnly took the vows, and from that hour l)c 
 came a INIethodist Bishop. Never did man take vows more 
 conscientiously; never were vows fulfilled more faithfully. 
 
 At the close of this General Conference he returned to 
 La Grange College, The parting with Trustees and Fac- 
 ulty and students was very sad to him. Here he had spent 
 more than sixteen years of his valuable life. The Trustees 
 had always trusted entirely to him. Before this they had 
 clung to him, refused again and again to accept his resigna- 
 tion. The students loved him as a father, and looked up to 
 him as their best friend and wisest counselor. The Faculty 
 all felt that it would be almost iin])ossil)le to find a successor 
 v.ho would combine all the (jualities of a groat President 
 
8t LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 which belonged to Bishop Paine. His magnanimity, his 
 readiness to assume responsibility, his fearlessness in admin- 
 istering discii)line; his magnetism among the boys, drawing 
 them all to him ; his ability as an instructor, and his love of 
 truth and perfect freedom from all cant or j^edantry, had all 
 tended to endear him to his brethren of the Faculty, and 
 to cause the deepest regret at his departure. As the time 
 neared for his departure upon his first episcopal tour, he 
 felt still more keenly the sacrifice which he was making in 
 obedience to conscience and at the call of the Holy Spirit. 
 His home was never more charming. His young and de- 
 voted wife, by all that was beautifiil and elegant in her 
 home, by her prudence, piety, and devotion to him, her 
 care for the boys by a former marriage, and her sweet 
 young motherhood, had made his home as bright and happy 
 as it had once been lonely and desolate. And now for months 
 at a time this sweet home, so pure, so attractive, must be sur- 
 rendered, and he must go from it. He knew that his own 
 dear children needed his watchful eye, his fatherly care and 
 advice. He must go along the western borders in the Indian 
 Territory, and wherever duty might call him. The methods 
 of travel were mostly by the old stage-coach, rarely by 
 .•(team-boat, still less frequently by railroad. It required 
 tveeks of travel, painful and cheerless, to go from one Con- 
 ference to another. The time occupied in travel was any 
 thing but pleasant. From the time he left his home on his 
 first tour until his arrival at the seat of his first Conference 
 was nearly two whole weeks — weeks without comfort, and 
 of constant exposure. 
 
i;i>'iioi' OF Tin: M. i:. ciukcii, soi'Tir. f^^ 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 BlSIIOl' J*A1NE ON His JvOl'NDS. 
 
 TT was on September 6, 184(5, tliat r>islioi) Paine left liis 
 1 home, then in La Grange, Ahibama, on his iirst round ol* 
 e})iscoi)al duty. He took the stage at dark in Tuscunibia. 
 He was the only passenger. After passing Ripley, jNIissis- 
 sippi, on the 17th, the horses ran ofFwith the stage, turned it 
 over and 1-roke it. The driver was caught under the bro- 
 ken stage and partially disabled. The Bishop was unhurt. 
 He had to stay in the swamp alone for hours, until a wagon 
 could be obtained in which the journey was pursued to 
 Holly Springs. On the 19th he arrived at Memphis, Ten- 
 nessee ; on the 21st started on a steam-boat up the Mississip- 
 pi River. On his way to Hannibal, the seat of the Missouri 
 Conference, he made as close observations as possible. Hits 
 journal abounds with brief notices of the geological forma- 
 tions. He always did this. The high hills, the limestone 
 and chert, all attracted his attention. These observations 
 had enabled him to prophesy the great mineral wealth 
 to be found in the mountains of North Alabama, and were 
 the means of his discovering and calling attention to the 
 vast quantities of coal found in Illinois and IMissouri. Of 
 these facts he tells us in his "Notes of Life." The first 
 Conference over which he presided began its session in the 
 town of nannil)al, IMo., on the 30th of September, 184^. 
 John H. Linn was the stationed preacher, and with liim he 
 made his home. George W. Rewlcy, to whom in Ihc ab- 
 sence of a Jiisliop he IkmI given a ccrtiticatc of transfer 
 
86 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 from the Tennessee Conference many years before, was still 
 in connection with the Western Conference. He was lying 
 ill of consumption. He knew that his days were few. He 
 was ready and anxious to go. The meeting between these 
 old and dear friends was exceedingly tender. When the 
 dying man saw his old friend, now a Bishop, it affected him 
 deeply. They met again on earth : the one just entering 
 upon a new and untried field of labor and usefulness, the 
 other ready to exchange labor for reward. 
 
 Many perj^lexing legal questions came up at this Confer- 
 ence. They were readily and correctly decided by the new 
 Bishop, who had been a godson of Bishop IMcKendree, and 
 was already well ve^^sed in ecclesiastical law. These ques- 
 tions originated in the recent division of the Conference — 
 the St. Louis having been separated from the Missouri. He 
 felt deeply his responsibility. He prayed most fervently 
 for Divine help. He was quick yet cautious, generous and 
 sympathetic but impartial and inflexibly just. Not only in 
 the chair but in the cabinet did the Bishop feel most intense- 
 ly his need of Divine help. As he entered u})on his work, ho 
 writes in his diary : " This is my first Conference. Lord, help 
 me." A world of meaning is expressed in these two short 
 sentences. What work of man is so delicate and so difficult 
 as that of determining the stations of the preachers? Con- 
 flicting interests, family relations, the fitness of men for the 
 different conditions of the work, the special need of partic- 
 ular churches, the absolute necessity for frequent removals, 
 and above all the great question. How can the cause of 
 God be best promoted in this arrangement of the appoint- 
 ments? — all gave him the greatest concern. He was a 
 magnanimous man. He was in deep sym]iathy with tlie 
 preacliers, and would never nfflict one if lie could avoitl it. 
 He loved and honored the Church, nnd desired above all 
 its spiritual growth, and was of course unwillinir to send 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 87 
 
 to any charge a man who might be ratlier a curse than a 
 blessing. The (juostion with him was, Who is the right 
 man for each i)a:?t()ral charge? AVhcn this was settled, and 
 it was found that without severe affliction theapi)ointments 
 could all be made, tlien he was happy. No man that has 
 filled the episcopal chair ever felt more deeply the fear- 
 ful responsibility resting upon him than did this Bishop, 
 through all the years of his episcopacy. There was greater 
 need than usual of the most consummate prudence in mak- 
 ing the appointments at this his -first Conference. It was a 
 border Conference ; and many will remember that for years 
 all along the border were still heard the dying echoes of a 
 most fierce and terrible ecclesiastical war. Prudent men 
 .were needed at certain points,or great grief might befall the 
 Church of Christ. 
 
 He joassed through a fine country from Hannibal to 
 Boonville. He continued to notice the encrinites, pentre- 
 mites, and other fossils, and marked the existence of coal 
 fr'om St. Louis to Hannibal, Glasgow, Boonville, etc. Ou 
 this route he traveled by many different modes of convey- 
 ance, fi'om a stage-coach to a skiff. At Boonvjlle he held 
 the St. Louis Conference, wdiich began its session on the 14th 
 of October and closed on the 20th. From this Conference 
 he went into the Indian Territory, He visited thediflEerent 
 tribes. He learned much of their character, and still moi-e 
 of their wants. He w^as among the Osages, the Wyandots, 
 the Creeks, the Cherokees, etc. He visited the different 
 schools and missions. He was at the Baptist mission and 
 the Quaker Mission as well as at our own. He had been 
 for years a close student of ethnology. He had especially 
 studied the origin of the American Indians, and had 
 in a sharp l)ut friendly controversy with J)r. A. L. 
 P. Green opposed the idea that they were the ten lost 
 tribes of Israel. He pursued this study by the closest ob- 
 
88 LIFE OF llOBEKT rAIXi:, D.D. 
 
 servation of their traditions, festivals, religious rites, lan- 
 guage, and superstitions. He preached to them through an 
 interpreter. He saw their agents, and felt how greatly they 
 had been imposed upon. He became well acquainted with 
 our missionaries, and was deeply sensible of their trials and 
 discouragements. He remained in the Indian Territory 
 until after the Indian Mission Conference. The day he was 
 forty-nine years old he says: "This day I consecrate myself 
 wholly to Him and His Church. O for a pure, wise, and 
 devoted soul, holy and useful! Indian Mission Conference 
 began." After the Conference, of which his old Tennessee 
 friend the Rev. AV. L. McAlister was the Secretary, he 
 continued to visit places in the Indian Territory. He was 
 with the Choctaws, the Creeks, and the Cherokees, and Avit- 
 nessed the progress of civilization among them. During this 
 trip he was greatly exposed. The water-courses were all 
 high, and he had to cross them in "dug-outs" unskillfully 
 managed and in a "tottering condition." Especially was 
 he exposed in crossing the Arkansas River, Avhich was much 
 swollen and threatened to capsize the little canoe whirling 
 round and round in a rapid and dangerous manner. He 
 passed by difterent forts and schools, and at last arrived safe 
 and thankful at Fort Smith, Ark. Here he met thousands 
 moving to Texas. "Wagons, wagons were crowded along 
 the banks of the river" — so he -enters it. At Van Burcn 
 he met the Arkansas Conference, which commenced its ses- 
 sion on November 25. Again his knowledge of ecclesiastic- 
 al law was tested. Many legal questions were propounded, 
 and all readily answered. The Confci'cnce closed on llie 
 30th of November, and he started immediately to Little 
 llock. After remaining at Little Rock, waiting for a boat, 
 he started down the river for home. After jiassing Na])o- 
 leon a fearful accident occurred. A flue collapsed — the 
 boiler burst — all was a scene of wild confusion. The cr.[) 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 89 
 
 tain was alarmed, and unable to command his crew. One 
 man was torn to pieces and others hurt. The Bishop took 
 command, gave directions to throw out the tiller-rope and 
 to land the vessel. Calm, trustful, strong, he alone had 
 the ju'esence of mind to do what was needed. The crew 
 obeyed. The vessel was saved. The passengers, too, witli 
 grateful hearts acknowledged their obligations to the good 
 Ijishop. Like St. Paul when his vessel was sinking, he took 
 charge of the men, and proved himself a man trustful in God, 
 but a soul so much above the ordinary man that he alone 
 of all that were on board showed ability to rule in the 
 midst of the most fearful confusion and in the presence 
 of death. When all was accomplished that could be done, 
 he wrote: "Merciful God, what a scene! Thank God it 
 was no ^Yorse." 
 
 I do not know that any incident in the life of the Bishop 
 more fully exhibits the greatness of his character than the 
 one thus briefly narrated. His presence of mind in the 
 face of disaster, his calm self-possession in the midst of 
 unusual confusion, his power to command men unknown to 
 him, his actually taking the place of the exi^erienced but 
 I'rightened captain and saving those that were not killed by 
 the explosion — all show a greatness of soul rising to a height 
 at once sublime and rarely reached by any man. Another 
 boat passing soon carried them to the jMississippi Kiver in 
 safety. Here they were transferred to a boat bound for Mem- 
 phis. Arriving at Memphis, he met with Bishop Andrew, 
 spent some time with him in sweet and holy comnumion, 
 heard him preach liis iamous sermon on family governmeni, 
 and with a thankful heart started to his home in Aberdeen, 
 ]Miss. During his long tour his I'amily had removed from 
 La Grange, Ala., to this place, Aberdeen. After passing 
 over "terrible" roads and Ix^ing upset in the stage, he ar- 
 lived at home on the 17th of DtcemlKr, 1840. He had 
 
90 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 been abseut a little more than three months. This was his 
 first experience as a Bishop. He was happy. A loving 
 wife had proved herself worthy of being the wife of a Bish- 
 op, and welcomed him to their new home. It was a happy 
 meeting. The children wei-e so glad to see him who was so 
 good and tender a father, and whose presence was such a 
 benediction to the home circle. He simply writes: "Home. 
 Thank God ten thousand times! All's well." In this 
 happy home he had rest. No man ever loved home more. 
 Amid these loved ones he was to some extent repaid for the 
 hazards and self-denials of his long and eventful absence. 
 
BISHOP OF TIIK M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. i)l 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Fulfilling His Mission. 
 
 A FTER a brief sojourn with his precious family, he left 
 lA. Aberdeen on February 15, 1847, to attend the Texas 
 and East Texas Conferences. He went by Mobile, staying 
 with his old friend Col. R. A. Baker, and baptizing his son, 
 Alexander Price. He stopped a day or two in New Or- 
 leans, and was most cordially entertained in the family of 
 another old friend, H. R. W. Hill. He had known Broth- 
 er Hill in Tennessee, and had witnessed his powerful con- 
 version at the first Conference that he ever attended at 
 Franklin, Tenn. On February 26 he left on a steamer for 
 Galveston, Texas. He was terribly seasick. He writes in 
 his journal : " Sick, sick. Roughest sea I ever saw. Had to 
 turn back and put into Barataria Bay. A miserable day." 
 He arrived safe, after this stormy voyage, on March 1 ; was 
 cordially received and welcomed by friends in Galveston. 
 He remained a day or two ; preached on " Lovest thou me 
 more than these?" On the 5th of March he left for the 
 seat of the Texas Conference, which was to be held at a big 
 school-house in the neighborhood of his old fi-iends Chappell 
 and Hargrove, and near to Brother Bragg's. This })lace 
 was beyond Houston, and not far from the Brazos River. 
 He had to go part of the way on horseback, and to spend 
 one night in a dirty hovel with hogs and vermin ; but at the 
 Conference he had a good time with his old friends, and 
 es]»ecially with such men as Wliij)])!*', Thnill, AhxMuder, 
 Fisher, DeVilbiss, llaynie, llamiltoii, and others. He 
 greatly enjoyed his visit to his old fi-iends who had minis- 
 
92 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 tered to him so kindly when he was a l)oy on the Tusca- 
 loosa Circuit. At Father Chappell's they showed him a 
 coin which had been given by him to one of his boys nearly 
 thirty years before. It had been kept in memory of the 
 young preacher all that time. On the 16th of March he 
 left his old friends for the East Texas Conference, which 
 was to be held at Clarksville, and was to begin the 31st 
 of March. He had to go the entire distance on horse- 
 back. The roads were bad, and the fare along the route 
 still worse. He was badly mounted. The trip was one 
 of the most disagreeable of his life. It was during the 
 Mexican war, and the country was much excitd by false 
 rumors in reference to General Taylor and his army. He 
 suffered along the way from a severe attack of sickness ; 
 but, sick and sore from rough roads and miserable fare, 
 he traveled, on. Sometimes he was hardly able to sit 
 on his horse, but there was no place at which he could ]je 
 much bettered ; so he kept in the saddle, and jogging along 
 on a poor one-eyed horse, until he arrived at Clarksville in 
 time for the Conference. He preached on the Sabbath of 
 this Conference to an immense congregation in the Presby- 
 terian church, and had great liberty. His text was, " Occu- 
 py till I come." He had been sick during all the Confer- 
 ence. He saw the great need of more preachers in the 
 Conference. He felt the responsibility resting upon the la- 
 borers whom he was to send out to occupy that vast territo- 
 ry. Full of his subject, he felt that God was near, his 
 Spirit resting upon him, and he gave them one of his very 
 best gospel sermons. After the sermon he ordained six 
 deacons, and in the afternoon five elders. On the 7th the 
 Conference closed. He started again on horseback and 
 made his way to Shreveport, La., thence by steam-boat to 
 New Orleans and to Molnle and home, where he arrived on 
 the 22d of April. He had been absent frojn liome more 
 
r.i^^iiop OF THE M. E. cnuRciT, SOUTH. 0:1 
 
 than two months, and had held but two Conferences. In 
 less than one year he litul traveled over many States and 
 throuirh ditierent Territories. He had seen sights such as 
 even to his extensive experience were entirely new. He had 
 been among the Indians, and traveled extensively through 
 their Territory. He had been by the battle-ground of 8a 1- 
 tillo, and was at one time not far from the battling hosts of 
 Taylor and Santa Ana. He had at one time been lost in 
 the deep forests of Texas, and had spent nights in the most 
 disagreeable and dirty haunts. He had been compelled to 
 travel when so sick as hardly able to sit on his horse. He 
 had witnessed the blowing up of a steam-boat ; had been 
 compelled to take charge of the terrified crew. But he was 
 agaii) at his home. He was made welcome by the best of 
 wives. In all his absence she never uttered one complain- 
 ing word. God had called him; she would not by word or 
 act discourage him in his great mission. He said to me: 
 " Rivers, few persons know Avhat a wife I have. She is the 
 bravest of her sex, and as for firmness I know not herecjual. 
 I do not see how I could do the work of a INIethodist Bishop 
 were it not for her. She has great responsibilities, and 
 meets them with a patience and firmness that almost puts 
 me to the blush." Such were the contents of the "alabas- 
 ter box" W'hich he poured upon the head of this good woman 
 during life. I like this. It sends forth the sweetest odor. 
 It is so much better to give this testimon}' long before the 
 burial of the loved one. Said a Bishop to me: "I do not 
 wonder that it is a great cross for Bishop Paine to leave 
 his home. I have recently visited him, and he certainly 
 has much to attract him there, for he has one of the most 
 delightful homes I have ever visited." It was to this most 
 excellent wife that home was indebted for its sweetness, its 
 beautv, and its sunshine. 
 
04 LIFE OF PtOBERT TAIXE, D.D. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Great Missionary Meeting — Terrible Accident — "Wonder- 
 ful Providence. 
 
 ON September 7, 1847, he started on his second round of 
 Conferences. On the 17th he met Bishop Soule in 
 Louisville, Ky. They had a delightful session together. 
 Bishop Soule revised the entire work of the young Bishop, 
 and pronounced " the work all done right." This grai:ified 
 Bishop Paine, and caused him to pen the ejaculation so 
 often occurring in his diary, "Thank God!" From Louis- 
 ville he went to Harrodsburg, to hold the Kentucky Con- 
 ference. Here he met his old friend Dr. Bascom, and had 
 the privilege of hearing Jonathan Stamper preach before he 
 ordained the elders. They had a grand missionary meeting 
 on Monday night of the Conference. Dr. Sehon j^reached 
 on " Go ye into all the world," etc. The Doctor roused up 
 the people, and after a short address from the Bishop a fine 
 collection was taken. During this collection the congrega- 
 tion was thrilled by the following incident. The Rev. G. 
 W. Brush came forward with a fine gold watch and chain, 
 and said : " This watch is the gift of a much beloved brother 
 to his sister. It was given by the brother on his death-bed. 
 It has been prized by this sister as a souvenir from a most 
 teiiderly loved brother. Bishop, she wants to give this watch 
 and chain to the missionary cause. She desires that it be 
 ap})ropriated to the Indians. Will you accept this from as 
 pure a Christian woman as can be found in all Kentucky?" 
 The gift was fr<nu Mis« Sue Scantland, now Mrs. A. A. 
 
Bisiior OF THE M. E. cnuRcri, south. 95 
 
 J.Iorrison, of Denver, Col. She not only gave her beautiful 
 wateli, but she gave herself to the cause of God, and became 
 the devoted wife of a noble Methodist preacher. More 
 than twenty years after the bestowal of this gift, in response 
 to the Bishop's ajipeal, she and her devoted husband re- 
 ceived their appointment to Colorado at the hands of this 
 senior Bishop.* Some one made Mrs. Paine a life-meml)ei- 
 of the ]Missi(mary Society, which compliment was greatly 
 appreciated by the Bishop. This was one of the most de- 
 lightful sessions of an Annual Conference that he ever held. 
 The spirit of the preachers, the kindness of friends, the 
 fervor of the missionary feeling — rising almost to "white 
 heat " — and the renewal of many old associations, all tended 
 to make the Conference highly enjoyable. He had Bisliop 
 Soule with him a part of the time. The presence of that 
 great and good man was always a benediction to Bishop 
 Paine. In a few days he set out for the Louisville Confer- 
 ence, which was to be held at Glasgow. A letter to Mrs. 
 Paine will tell much better than I can what happened at 
 the beginning of his journey: 
 
 Danville, Ky., Oct. 4, 1R47. 
 My Pi'ecions Wife: If God liad not been here, your poor husband 
 would have been killed about two hours after I wrote you last. But 
 He to whom I consecruteil myself and Hiy all was ])resent to preserve 
 iind rescue me. Let us be thankful, for I am alive in soul and in 
 l)()dy, and though severely bruised and stiff, have snfiered no serious 
 injury. These are the facts: I wrote to you from Ilarrodslturg on 
 the 30th of September that I intended to return to Louisville by 
 way of Lexington and Kentucky Kiver. So, to do so I had to go to 
 Danville that evening and thence by stage next morning to Lexing- 
 t »n. Brother PL J. Perry, presiding elder of this district, drove uj) to 
 my room and offered me a seat in his buggy with liis wife to come 
 here. He lives here, and the distance is only ten miles. I accepted 
 it, and he rode on horseback and I drove. The horse was restive, 
 
 * While thp.«>e pnges were goins through tho pves?, we receivpd the iiUelli- 
 gcnce of the cJeath of Rev. A. A. Morrison.— Ed. 
 
96 TJFE OF TtOBERT TAIXE. D.D. 
 
 but rather unwilling to go fast. I disliked his movements from iho 
 first, and was constantly on my guard, traveling slowly all the way. 
 After going about seven miles, and just as I was turning down a long 
 hill, he suddenly as lightning and without any known cause dartetl 
 forward. I pulled with all my might, and he began to kick and 
 })lunge forward. I found it impossible to stop or even impede his 
 furious course, and tried to turn him off the turnpike against a gate, 
 but could not. By the time we passed the gate he was running his 
 best and kicking like seven devils Avere in him. He had already 
 kicked ofl" the dash and loot-board, and once or twice his feet came 
 very near my face. I saw that there was no hope but in upsetting, 
 and getting clear of him as soon as possible. In this I succeeded by 
 turning the buggy over a large pile of rocks lying near the gate. 
 This upset us with a terrible crash and threw us on the turnpike 
 with tremendous violence. I literally slid on the turnpike three 
 feet, and lay stunned and apparently dead for some time. The first 
 thinw 1 recollect was Sister Perrv standing over me exclaiming, 
 " The Bishop is killed, he is dead ! " But by degrees I became con- 
 scious, and was lifted up and finally brought to this place, where 
 kind friends and good physicians and a merciful God have taken 
 care of me. I am this morning able to get up, put on my clothes 
 with a little help, and write these lines to my dear wife. It was 
 found that I had sufiered greatly in that awful fall, but I tell you — 
 and you know I never deceived you in all my life, and that I will 
 not lie — that I am not severely hurt anywhere. None of my bones 
 are broken, nor have I sustained any internal injury. And as evi- 
 dence of this, I shall resume my journey to Glasgow in time to meet 
 the Conference at its opening. 1 was bruised severely. All my 
 side except my chest is bruised; in several places the skin and flesh 
 lacerated. My hand, elbow, ankle, wrist, and especially ray hip and 
 pelvis bones and thigh, are badly bruised and quite sore yet. I can, 
 liowever, walk across my room., and I know that all my bones are 
 sound. Thank God ! The doctor has just examined me, pronounced 
 me unbroken, and given me his final directions. Sister Perry Mav 
 badly cut on the forehead and her foot hurt. The buggy was torn 
 to pieces. I am in the midst of very kind friends who wait on mc 
 with very great tenderness and let me want for nothing. All day 
 yesterday and last night and to-day I have been very happy. I feel 
 that I am the pro})erty of my God and his Church, f love (jod. I 
 trust him. He will take care of me, and bring me to my loved ones 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 97 
 
 :i<;;iin. lie irill, dan; I have rcnowfil my ((ivonant for G()«l to live 
 and (lie. ]\ry \\\l'v, my chlldrcii, my loved ones, my servants, all J 
 lay on tlio altar ot" my (lod/aiid dedicate all to him. My mind is 
 peaeelnl and liai)i)y. 1 have a hiunhle but sure trust that he will 
 keep that whirh 1 have committed to his care. I am very hajipy in 
 this faith. Yes, here away from you all, in the solitude of my little 
 upper chamber, surrounded by strangers, and frecpiently calling to 
 mind your loved laces, I do feel supremely happy and resigned. I 
 shall meet you here, and meet you in heaven. Wife, dear wife, let 
 us have more faith in (lod's word, more trust. Several persons 
 have examined the place and some witnessed the accident, and all 
 agree that turning over the buggy when I did saved us, and are as- 
 tonished that we were not killed anyhow. The secret of it is, the 
 Lord protected us. His divine providence saved us. To him alone 
 be the praise now and forever. Keep yourself cheerful and happy. 
 My love to all. Yours forever, K. Paink. 
 
 In eiirlit or ten days after this accident he -wrote a^rain to 
 his excellent wife. He had been mending all the time. He 
 would be able to meet the Conference at Glasgow. He also 
 received many letters congratulating him and returning 
 thanks to the All-Father for his preserving care. Among 
 these letters was one of great tenderness from Dr. Bascom, 
 in which he recognizes the special providence in hi& not 
 being kille<]. 
 
98 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 CHAPTER XVlll. 
 
 Legal, Question — Tennessee Conference. 
 
 ON October 9 he left Danville for Glasgow. This, as the 
 reader already knows, was the anniversary of his conver- 
 sion. He says : " This day thirty years ago God converted 
 me. Thank God I have never willingly or wickedly de- 
 parted from him. O for more holiness and usefulness!" 
 Thus was he at each return of this anniversary expressing 
 his gratitude to God and renewing his vows of consecra- 
 tion. Down to the last of his long and useful life, this re- 
 turn of this anniversary was remembered as the beginning 
 of that life which had allied him so closely to God and his 
 holy cause. 
 
 On the 13th of October, 1847, the Louisville Conference 
 began. The following question was settled by the Bishop: 
 " William McCullen, a graduate of Trinity College, Dub- 
 lin, and a presbyter of the Church of England, and of 
 the Protestant Episcopal Church of the United States, for 
 various reasons had resolved to surrender his letters of or- 
 ders, and signified it to Bishop Smith, giving as his reasons: 
 (1) His unwillingness to read sermons; (2) His rejection 
 of the doctrine of the divine right of episcopacy; (3) His 
 unwillingness to be barred from communing with other 
 orthodox Christians. And intending to become connected 
 with some other Christian denomination, he delivered his 
 parchments and was dismissed by the Bishop of the Prot- 
 estant Episcopal Church for the Diocese of Kentucky. 
 Can he be received by us in orders?" Some of the preach- 
 ers doubted. The Bishop decided that he could, and after 
 
BISIIOr OF THE M. E. CIirKCII, SOUTir. 99 
 
 adniiiiistering the vo^vs of ordination o;ave liim a certificate 
 of cider's orders as a local prcaclicr in the Methodist Epis- 
 copal Church, South. 
 
 From Glasgow, Ky., he jiasscd on hy Nashvile, Teini., 
 to Murfreesboro, the seat of the Tennessee Conference. 
 This was his old Conference. H.e was met by members 
 of his Church with whom he had lived and labored in 
 his early ministry. At the opening of the Conference 
 he said: "I shall feel free to hold a steady rein presid- 
 ing over this my old Conference. The business of the 
 Church requires method, order, harmony. To accomplish 
 this work will be my entire aim. Firmly, and in the fear 
 of God, I will do my wdiole duty. Help me." During 
 this Conference a local preacher came up for reildmission. 
 Brother K. was a man of talents. He was a politician, and 
 was a powerful man before the people. He had a very 
 wide reputation, and he was recognized as one of the most 
 formidable of all the Whig orators. Dr. J. B. McFerrin 
 spoke in behalf of his admission. He said: "Mr. President, 
 Brother K. and myself are the poles apart in politics." 
 The Bishop interrupted him with these sharp and rather 
 cutting words: "I am very sorry to hear you allude to your 
 ])o]itics on this floor and in this presence. AVe do not bring 
 })<)litics into a Southern ]\Iethodist Conference." "Well, 
 sir," replied Dr. McFerrin,, "it is my right and privilege to 
 refer to my politics anywhere when I can do so, as I do now, 
 in the fear of God and for his glory. As I was saying, Broth- 
 er K. and myself do not belong to the same political party. 
 He is a zealous Whig ; I am a Democrat. In spite of all this, I 
 am for him — separated in politics, we are one in Christ. In 
 S})ite of violence of party spirit, we are one; and I shall vote 
 for him with both hands raised. Religion, thank God, is 
 above all political combinations, and this day shows itself 
 the very essence of love. Still you nmst know that Brother 
 
100 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 K. must be worthy, or I would not have made this speech. 
 Let us all vote for him." So we did, and Brother K. was 
 admitted with but little opposition. The Bishop's sharj) 
 i-ebuke was not only parried, but was made to subserve the 
 best interests of the political preacher, and to bring him into 
 the Conference. 
 
 The Conference passed pleasantly. The Bishop presider 
 \Yith dignity, and to the satisfaction of all. To this Confer- 
 ence he had the pleasure of introducing Dr. Wadsworth, as 
 his successor in the presidency of" La Grange College, and 
 commending him to his brethren as worthy of their confi- 
 dence and support. 
 
 His speech on reading out the appoinments was just 
 the kind we all expected. It was tender. It was manly. 
 It was episcopal. It blended mildness and firmness, love 
 for the preachers and devotion to the Church. It showed 
 the full character of our shepherd as willing to lead in all 
 the work of Christ. From Murfreesboro he went by stage 
 to Tuscumbia, and thence on to his home.. He found all 
 well, and on November 12 the flowers Avere still blooming. 
 There had been no frost. Health and happiness, beauty 
 and innocence, nature and art, neatness and industry and 
 piety, all combined to make that home most delightful to 
 the good Bishop, whose labors had been so great and whose 
 valuable life seemed at one time to have come to a sudden 
 and violent end. But God had more use f()r hiui in his 
 vineyard, and had brought him again to his own loved 
 ones at his own dear "sweet home." For all this he was 
 so thankful that he not only acknowledged his gratitude 
 around the family altar, but almost tearfully in his journal. 
 When he thought of the exceedingly narrow escape that he 
 had made from a sudden and violent death, and found him- 
 self again at his own dear home with_ all the blessings of life 
 around him, his gratitude was unbounded. That home, al- 
 
BlSIIOr OF THE M. E. CHURCH, 60UTH. 101 
 
 ways so dear to him, never seemed so lovely as now. The 
 flowers blooming so late in the autumn seemed an omen for 
 good, lie always loved tlowers, and now they seemed more 
 attractive than ever. Their beauty and sweetness added to 
 the delights of his home, and especially so as they had been 
 planted and cultivated by the hand of his wife, who could 
 say in the language of the wife of another Bishop: "I am 
 happy in my husband, whether absent or present; but al- 
 ways happy in my God, ever present and alwavs kind to us 
 both." 
 
 After spending a few weeks with his family, he left home 
 in December for the remaining Conferences. He held the 
 Mississippi at Canton, the Louisiana at Minden, the Ala- 
 bama at Montgomery. He did not finish this short round 
 of Conferences until February, 1848. His chief labor was 
 performed in getting from one Conference to another. Dur- 
 ing these long trips overland, and in all sorts of convey- 
 ances — from a stage-coach to a common road-wagon — he suf- 
 fered much; but uncomplainingly and with determination 
 to do his whole duty, he brooked all the difficulties, and was 
 ever at his post. He did not get back to his home until 
 late in February. Here we shall leave him to enjoy all 
 the happiness of that domestic circle until he starts on his 
 round (jf duties in the fall of 1848. 
 
J 02 LIFE OF ROBERT RAINE, D.D. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Duty in the Midst of Danger. 
 
 AFTER holding the HolstoD Conference at Knoxville, 
 the Tennessee at Clarksville, and the Memphis at Al)- 
 erdeen, on the 4th of December, 1848, he left home at night, 
 and in a stage-coach, for the Mississippi Conference. It was 
 held at Jackson. The men of this Conference were under 
 the leadership of one of the greatest minds on this conti- 
 nent. Dr. William Winans, for native strength of intellect, 
 for power to grasp any subject presented to him, for vigor 
 of logic, and for command of pure Anglo-Saxon English, 
 has not been surpassed in the history of Methodism. He 
 was an intellectual giant. Then there was the godly and 
 elegant Drake ; the fervid Campbell — the son-iil-law of INIar- 
 tin Enter; the apostolic Jones; the eloquent Charles K. 
 Marshall ; the venerable and sweet-spirited Lane, who always 
 reminded me of Bishop Andrew, and had often been taken 
 for him ; all of whom met him with cordiality, and gave him 
 generous support. He met there his old friends and com- 
 panions-in-arms, Dr. J. B.McFerrin and Dr. Stevenson, from 
 Nashville. Dr. Charles B. Parsons was there, and preached 
 his famous sermon in which he compared the different de- 
 nominations to the different cars on a railroad drawn by 
 the same engine and bound for the same port. Dr. Levings, 
 the great Bible Agent, was also at this Conference, advo- 
 cating the claims of the Holy Book. During the Confer- 
 ence alarming reports were heard of cholera in New Or- 
 leans and all along the Mississippi Eiver. His next Con- 
 ference was the Louisiana, and was to be held at Baton 
 Rouge, right in the cholera region. The visitors from Ken- 
 
BISHOP OF TllK M. K. ("HI K( 11, J^Ol'TH. 103 
 
 tucky ami Tcnnosvsce deterniined to return to their homes. 
 A iearful panic prevailed. I ha])pene(l just as this time to 
 be passing down the Mississippi River with my family, 
 bound for Centenary College. Even the captain of the 
 boat on which we were traveling left us at Natchez and 
 went back to his home and family in Paducah, Ky. We 
 left Paducah with a large number of })assengers, but nearly 
 all quit the boat before we reached Baton Rouge. Home 
 of the passengers bought horses and returned through the 
 interior to their liomes in Reynoldsburg, Tenn. I have 
 seldom, either before or since that time, seen a greater panic 
 than existed all along the Mississippi River. That there 
 were grounds for it, there could be no doubt. People were 
 leaving New Orleans by the thousands. The disease was 
 very fatal. On the night of our arrival at Jackson, La., 
 our second daughter, a sweet and beautiflil little girl of near 
 eight years, was attacked with the disease, and after a few- 
 short days we laid her away among strangers in the little 
 village cemetery beneath the shade of the magnolia. The 
 Bishop heard of our great sorrow, and as he had baptized 
 her and always loved her, he expressed in few but tender 
 words our sad, sad loss. In the midst of this panic, which 
 seized all classes, he writes: "Excitement about cholera. 
 McFerrin, Starks, Levings, and Stevenson hesitating about 
 going to the Louisiana Conference. I go, of course. ' Trust 
 God in duty,' my motto." He went. A perplexing case 
 came up at this Conference. It was: "What is the status 
 of a local elder whose character the quarterly -meeting 
 Conference refused to pass?" The presiding elder had de- 
 cided that the ministerial character was gone, and that the 
 elder must surrender his parchment. He was sustained 
 by some of the most talented mem])ers of the Conference. 
 One said: "By the refusal of the(]uarterly-meeting Confer- 
 ence to pass his character, his vitality as a minister is gone." 
 
104 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 Another urged: "The quarterly-meeting Conference has 
 exclusive jurisdiction, and of course a refusal to pass the 
 character of a local elder virtually deprives him of all his 
 official functions." Just at this juncture the Bishop arose 
 and said : " Brethren, I will not put the vote. It did not 
 follow from a refusal to pass the character of this local 
 elder that his credentials were to be given up, or that he 
 was indefinitely suspended. The presiding elder did right 
 t(^ examine his character, moral and official, but improperly 
 jumped to his conclusion in demanding his credentials. He 
 should have called on the Quarterly Conference to specify 
 facts ; to do it in his presence, to admonish, reprove, or sus- 
 pend him, according to law. If he had shown improper 
 temper or performed actions improper, the Discipline points 
 out the course and the law. But without charge, trial, or 
 conviction, they refused to accredit him. The proceedings 
 stopped too soon. All that the Quarterly Conference did 
 was an implied censure, or censure direct, and does not nec- 
 essarily work a forfeiture of his credentials. A local elder 
 cannot be deprived of his credentials without a trial. This 
 brother has had no such trial.. There is no law^ for this 
 course. He is still a local elder." To this decision he held 
 the Conference, and would not allow a brother, without a 
 trial, to be deprived of his ministerial character. 
 
 Before the Conference closed, he was attacked with strong 
 symptoms of cholera. He was unable to read out the ap- 
 pointments. He had spasms, and suffered so as to produce 
 cold, clammy sweats. Many were dying of cholera. Col. 
 Croghan, of the United States Army, died; and i>thers 
 were reported very ill. He got better, and although very 
 feeble, went on board a boat bound for Kew Orleans. At 
 the home of his old friend H. R. W. Hill he became Avorse. 
 Though weak and suffering, he writes : *" This- is indeed a 
 strange providence, to stop me here in the midst \^ daiii2:er. 
 
BISHOP OF TIIK M. i:. CHURCH, SOUTH. 105 
 
 I do trust all without fear to Gcd above. His will be done. 
 Glory be to God, I can work or die as he wills. But O 
 my wife, little ones, and servants! Must trust all. I do." 
 But God had other a\ ork for liiiu to do. After days of suf- 
 fering and great feebleness, he was allowed by his excellent 
 physician, Dr. Moss, to leave for the Alabama Conference, 
 w hich was held at Greensboro, Ala., Jan. 21st, 1849. Here 
 he heard of the death of Dr. Levings from cholera. He was 
 a great and good man, and was in fine health when he parted 
 from the Bishop after the adjournment of the Mississippi 
 Conference. Immediately upon the adjournnient of the 
 Alabama Conference, the Bishop left for home by stage. 
 He found all well. Here again he enjoyed in the bosom of 
 his family that rest which he so greatly needed. He had 
 traveled and held Conferences, and been attacked with chol- 
 era, and suffered so much as to make him feel that death 
 was not remote. He never faltered. Do duty, even if duty 
 led to the grave, was his great ruling principle. In accept- 
 ing the episcopal office, he anticipated labor, self-denial, sep- 
 aration from family and home ; but thus far his sufferinors 
 had far exceeded his anticipations. Duty alone prevented 
 him from laying aside his robes of office and seeking privacy, 
 quiet, and repose. But ever faithful to the calls of duty, to 
 the dictates of an enlightened conscience, and to the require- 
 ments of the Church which he loved better than life, he 
 said to the tempter, " Get thee behind me, Satan," and cried 
 out with David, "My heart is fixed, O Lord, my heart is 
 fixed!" Again he was happy in the bosom of his family; 
 again he blessed the Providence that had given to him a 
 wife who combined just the qualities which the wife of a 
 traveling Bishop should have. She was strong, self-reliant, 
 firm, and yet gentle, timid, refined, and modest almost to a 
 fault. In his absence she ruled the family. At home, all 
 yielded to her wishes. A model housekeeper must have 
 
106 LIFE UF KG BERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 order, neatness, and industry in her home. Mrs. Paine had 
 all this. The Bishop's home was a model of elegance and 
 refinement. It was snrrounded by the most beautiful flowers 
 and shrubbery, tastefully selected and elegantly cultivated. 
 Within, all was order and harmony. She had inherited 
 her mother's capacity for governing. She was like her 
 mother in both strength and gentleness of character, and 
 soon made her husband feel that in his absence all would 
 go welL So while he left his home always with regret, and 
 returned to it with joy, he suffered no needless anxiety about 
 its proper government while he was absent. 
 
BlSIIor OF TIIK M. E. CHURCH, SOITH. 107 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 In the (Jreat West — Keturns Home. 
 
 THE different rounds of Conferences were far from being 
 monotonous. If " variety is the sj^ice of life," our Bishop 
 certainly did not lack that element. He had spice enough 
 and to spare. On the 19th of September, 1849, he left his 
 home for the Missouri Conference. He Avent to Memphis, 
 Tenn., by stage, and was soon on board a steamer for St. 
 Louis. As usual on a Mississippi River steam-boat, there 
 were many different characters among the passengers. 
 Gamblers, desperate and vile, greatly annoyed the jiious 
 Bishop by their impudent blasphemy and insulting speech. 
 In the darkness of the night, not far fi-om Cairo, the boat 
 struck a snag. It tore through the state-rooms. Some were 
 scalded, and many narrowly escaped. The gamblers were 
 much alarmed, and broke down the door of their state-room. 
 Another attempted to jump into the river, and was caught 
 by the^ishop and his life saved. The alarm and disorder 
 were great. The boat was landed on a sand-bar, where they 
 passed a horrid night. In all the excitement, the Bishop 
 remained calm and undismayed. He encouraged and com- 
 forted the terrified passengers, and was ready, as upon a for- 
 mer occasion, to take command of the shattered vessel, and 
 save, if possible, both passengers and crew. This proved 
 not to be necessary, as they had a captain equal to the oc- 
 casion. Without further accident, he arrived safe at St. 
 Louis on the 23d of September. He preached in Centenary 
 Church on the Sabbath to a large congregation. His text 
 was the apostle's prayer, found in Ephesians, third chapter. 
 He had liberty. He entered into the spirit of this wonder- 
 
108 LIFE OF ROBERT RAINE, D.D. 
 
 ftil prayer. The people were stirred. A deep feeling pre- 
 vailed tliroiighout the large assembly. God was present. 
 Good was done. At St. Louis was Thomas Capers, brilliant, 
 pious, evangelical; and also Dr. J. H. Linn, then in the 
 vigor of his young manhood, solid, strong, earnest. He wa» 
 doing a great work then, and continued in energy, fidelity, 
 and zeal for more than twenty-five years to preach the gos- 
 pel and advance the Master's cause unlil 1877, when he 
 passed to his reward. While holding the Missouri Confer- 
 ence at Fulton, he was attacked with a sudden and severe 
 ' sickness. The attack came upon him Avhile he was preach- 
 ing, and he was compelled to stop. He was scarcely able 
 to ordain the deacons, and broke down completely Avhile at- 
 tempting to ordain the elders. Two physicians were called 
 in and found his symptoms alarming. His mind wandered. 
 Fearful dreams and visions added to the alarm of his 
 friends. He preached and prayed in the most frantic man- 
 ner, and in the wildest delirium. He saw^ his wife die, his 
 house on fire, and two of his children consumed in the 
 flames. The disease was difficult to subdue, but after six or 
 eight days yielded to the skill of his physicians and a kind 
 Providence, and he went on as soon as he was able to attend 
 the St. Louis Conference at Jefferson City. The Conference 
 had been in session for several days. He presided during 
 the remainder of the session, but was unable to preach. 
 After Conference, he sent back his trunk and procured a 
 horse and a real Methodist itinerant preacher's outfit, sad- 
 dle-bags and all, and set out for the Indian Mission Confer- 
 ence on a horse w^hich he called " Gunpowder." Feeble as he 
 was, he traveled from twenty to thirty-five miles a day. At 
 one time, weary and worn, he laid down on the grass to rest. 
 He writes as he lay upon his back: "O how tired! Lord, 
 help me to do and suffer thy will." There were no roads. 
 He had to travel along narrow paths, and got lost more than 
 
r.rsiior of tifk si. e. ciirnc^ii, soutii. 100' 
 
 once. At last, after a loni: route of more tlian tliree hun- 
 dred and fifty miles, he arrived at a mauj^ion near Tahle- 
 quah, the seat of the Conference. He had been lodijing in 
 cabins and hovels, but now he was in a palace. He slept 
 on II bedstead which cost one hundred and fifty dollars. 
 Every thing was splendid, and the more so because of the 
 contrast with the humble fare which he had enjoyed during 
 his long horseback ride. The family was kind; the enter- 
 tainment princely. The re*^ so long needed, was most grate- 
 fully enjoyed. He expresses it all in one word: "Resting." 
 There is a whole volume in that word. Then follow two 
 other words with which the reader is familiar: "Thank 
 God!" It is with these two emphatic words that he alwavs 
 expresses his gratitude to his Heavenly Father. He held 
 the Conference, preached to the Indians, visited the mission- 
 schools, and after doing all the work of an evangelist and 
 of a Methodist Bishop, he left on "Gunpowder" for the 
 East Texas Conference, to be held at. Paris, Tex. Arriving 
 at Paris in time, he held the Conference, made the mission- 
 ary speech, preached and ordained deacons and elders. He 
 then had more than three hundred and fifty miles to travel 
 on horseback to Austin, the seat of theAVest Texas Confer- 
 ence. On the way, he was taken violently ill with a con 
 gestive chill. He called in a physician, who prescribecT 
 "heroic" doses of calomel, blue-mass, and quinine. Pie 
 would take at night twenty grains of calomel, and then ten 
 grains of quinine every few hours during the day. Through 
 bogs and swamps on he traveled — so sick that he thought 
 again and again death would be the result. He would have 
 stopped, but he had no place at which he could sta)^ In 
 the saddle, tired, sick, wasted, he traveled on through the 
 prairies, over the hills, across the streams, until he arrived 
 at Austin. Here he met his old Alabama friend Rev. 
 Chauncy Richardson, one of the pioneer educators in the 
 
110 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 Republic of Texas. Here also he found his old Tennessee 
 friend Dr. Alexander, whose name is so sacred to the Meth- 
 odists of Texas. There were others there, brave and true, 
 who gave to the sick Bishop all the support that warm- 
 hearted, zealous INIethodist preachers could give. Still sick, 
 he left Austin for Houston, where he expected to take a boat 
 for Galveston. In spite of the big doses of calomel and 
 quinine, and in spite of the w^ear and tear of horseback 
 travel, and a severe attack from one or two " Northers," he 
 arrived at Houston in December. Here he took a boat for 
 Galveston, and was soon on the Gulf for New^ Orleans. 
 Arriving at Mobile on January 1, 1850, he heard from his 
 wife for the first time since leaving home in Sej^tember. 
 Amid all his labors, dangers, sufferings, his heart had not 
 l)een gladdened by one line from the loved ones at home — ■ 
 so uncertain were the mails in what we then called the Far 
 West. At Mobile he learned that all were well at home, 
 and went to hold the Alabama Conference in Columbus, 
 Mississippi. 
 
 On the 2d of February, 1850, Bishop Paine arrived at 
 home after an absence of more than four months. They 
 had been four of the hardest months of his toilsome life. 
 He had been in the saddle quite an entire month — much of 
 the time really too sick to be out of his house. He had 
 traveled on horseback nearly a thousand miles, and he 
 passed through all without one rebellious feeling, but with 
 "Thy will be done" as the abiding sentiment of his apos- 
 tolic heart. 
 
Bi>siior OF Tin: m. e. church, south. Ill 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 General Conference — Choleka — Bascom — Excitement in 
 THE East — Work — Bereavement. 
 
 THE Second General Conference of the Methodii^t Episco- 
 pal Church, South, was held at St. Louis, beginning on 
 May 1, 1850. Bishops Soule, Capers, Andrew, and Paine 
 were all present. The Bishops' Address was prepared by 
 Bishop Andrew, and was read at the opening of the Con- 
 ference. Bishop Paine proposed the subject of organizing 
 a system to bring local preachers more into the work. He 
 also urged that a course of study be prescribed, and that 
 the "standard for licensing and ordaining them be higher." 
 The Conference was a brief one. At an early period of 
 the session the cholera became epidemic in. St. Louis, and 
 many members of the Conference were attacked by it. 
 Bishop Soule was taken very ill, and Rev. Isaac Boring 
 died. The Conference elected Henry B. Bascom Bishop, 
 and, after attending to such other business as could not be 
 postponed, adjourned on May 14. 
 
 The Bishop left home for the Eastern Conferences on Oc- 
 tober 31. As he passed through the Carolinas on his wav 
 to Virginia, he found great excitement prevailing in regard 
 to the boundary between the North and South Carolina 
 Conferences. The feeling was so deeji that it gave the Bish- 
 op the greatest anxiety. He had free and full conversa- 
 tions with Dr. Summers, who, from his residence in Charles- 
 ton, knew all the points involved. He was a disinterested 
 and wise counselor. At the North Carolina Conference 
 Dr. Deems made a fiery speech, and Dr. Closs said he 
 would fight it out on his side to the bitter end. He had 
 
] 1 2 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 learned largely of the merits of the case from passing 
 through South Carolina and hearing all that the preachei'S 
 of that Conference had to say on the subject. He decided 
 on his course. It did not meet with, the approbation of the 
 North Carolina presiding elders. He referred it to tlie 
 Cmference. Supported by such men as Doub, Burton, H. 
 G. Leigh, Bryant, and Carter, his plan was carried through, 
 and peace was restored. At the South Carolina Conference 
 he found the brethren a " little shy," but soon they went 
 with him, and the border difficulty ended in fraternal greet- 
 ings and universal peace. Such and so great is the power 
 of a man in authority to control the bitterness of strife and 
 to enjoy the benediction of all good people, and of Hira who 
 said, "Blessed are the peace-makers." 
 
 The Virginia Conference was held in Richmond. On his 
 way, he preached in the Washington Street Church, Peters- 
 burg, to an immense crowd on " Walking with God." In 
 this church he was ordained Bishop in May, 1846. He 
 writes: "Thank God, I hope I have done nothing to dis- 
 grace my office; but alas! hoAV imperfectly have I filled 
 it! It almost killed me to be ordained, and I have found 
 the office even more laborious aiid difficult than I expected ; 
 but He knows I neither sought nor wanted it, and I look to 
 him for help in every emergency. And blessed be His holy 
 name, hitherto He has helped me." During this Confer- 
 ence he enjoyed sweet communion w^ith that noble layman 
 D'Arcy Paul, of whom he says: "This is one of the best, 
 wealthiest, and most liberal men in the Church. He makes 
 it his business to get money to give away, and he does give 
 it liberally." After the Virginia Conference, he returned 
 through the Carolinas, and held the Georgia Conference at 
 Savannah. It was the middle of January, 1851. He was 
 extremely anxious to return home. The condition of his 
 family seemed to demand it. His wife was sick, and he 
 
IJISIIOr OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 113 
 
 felt that lie ought to he witli her. Besides, he himself was 
 not well, lie had sevei*al chills, and was sufiering greatly 
 with his head. At one time it seemed that he wi\s horder- 
 ing on apoplexy. He was perfectly conscious of his condi- 
 tion, and felt that he needed rest. The Florida Conference 
 was still to he held. He sought, through Dr. William H. 
 Ellison, son-in-law of Bishop Capers, and Dr. George F. 
 Pierce, to secure the services of Bishop Andrew. But 
 Bishop Andi'ew^ could not go. He entei-s in his journal: 
 "Never hated to go worse; but 't is duty, and I go." A 
 son had been born on January 1, and it was now the 20th; 
 and he would have been less or more than human not to 
 have desired greatly to see both mother and son. But " 't is 
 duty, and I go." He went, held the Conference, met Bish- 
 ops Capei-s and Andrew at Macon, Ga., on his return, and 
 arranged with them the plan of Conferences and appropria- 
 tions. He did not get back to his home until February 6. 
 In a short time that home was saddened by the death of 
 his eldest son, J/)hn E. Beck. John was a promising young 
 physician. He was converted while a student at Emory 
 College, Georgia. He was a consistent Christian, and he 
 talked most beautifully on his death-bed. He had a vision 
 of his mother. She came to him in "radiant glory," and 
 said to him: "My son, prepare to meet the judgment. 
 Meet me in heaven." Then, turning to his step-mother, he 
 said : "O ma, you have been a dear, good mother to me. I 
 would like to live, but I am not afraid to die." The Bishoy 
 had dedicated him to God from his infancy, and was ever 
 so hopeful of his future. He was a gentleman and a Chris- 
 tian, and his death was most beautiful. His father was with 
 him, and witnessed the triumphs of that faith which he 
 had been preaching for more than the third of a century. 
 After recounting the circumstances of his death, he utters 
 these expressive words: "O that I may meet him in heaven! 
 8 
 
114 LIFE OF EGBERT FAIXE, D.D. 
 
 I shall." He uttered no rebellious word. He indulwd no 
 murmuring spirit. He bowed to Him who doeth all things 
 well, meekly praying, "Thy will be done." His tour of 
 Conferences, as he strongly designates them, began with the 
 Western Virginia in September, 1851. He presided then 
 at the Kentucky, Louisville, Tennessee, Mississippi, and 
 Louisiana. These were all pleasant sessions, and his health 
 was better than usual. At the Mississippi Conference, Dr. 
 William Winans was compelled by the state of his health to 
 ask a supernumerary relation. He was not more than sixty 
 years of age. It was not, then, the infirmities of old age 
 but a severe bronchial affection which made the request 
 necessary. He stated the case himself to the Conference 
 in a modest, manly way. He stated his belief that the 
 days of his efficiency were passed. He feared that he 
 Avould never be able to take regular work again. He 
 bowed cheerfully to the will of God. In the Mississippi 
 Conference he had spent the vigor of his youth and the 
 prime of his manhood. He had enjoyed the largest confi- 
 dence of his brethren, for which he was deeply grateful. 
 He hoped the Conference could readily grant a request 
 which nothing but inability to do full work could have 
 forced him to make. Saying this, he left the Conference- 
 room. Before putting the vote as to granting his request, 
 the Bishop said : " Brethren, this request affects me greatly. 
 It pains me beyond measure to hear my old friend declare 
 his inability longer to do effective service. Time has been 
 when William Winans would have been gladly welcomed 
 to any station in the Church. He was capable of filling 
 any place. In intellectual power he has no superior in the 
 Church, North or South. He indulges now in no murmur. 
 He is satisfied. He retires so gracefully, so uncomplaining- 
 ly as to excite my highest admiration. I have seen old men 
 retire most ungraciously, uttering their conqilaints as to 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCir, SOUTH. 115 
 
 wi\ui of appreciation by the Church and their hard lot in 
 being cast off in old age. Dr. Winans never appeared 
 grander than he does to-day. I have been ^vith him in 
 General Conference uhen he shone like the sun at midday 
 in cloudless splendor. He Avas then the peer of any man on 
 this continent. To-day lie reminds me of the setting sun. 
 He still shines in full-orbed splendor, his round of rays 
 complete. The light may not be so dazzling, but its mellow 
 radiance touches the tenderest sensibilities, and assures us 
 that when the clouds of death shall gather they will be 
 gilded with holy light, filling us with the assurance that 
 death itself cannot quench the brightness of a luminary 
 which shall shine forever, nndimmed by the clouds of 
 death. Of course you will grant the request of Dr. Wi- 
 nans." The request was granted amid as deep feeling as 
 was ever witnessed probably on any similar occasion. 
 
 From the Mississippi Conference he passed by Centenary 
 College, and remained a few days, blessing the family of 
 the writer with his presence, his pious counsels, and his wise, 
 cheerful Christian conversation. He told us much of the 
 labors and difficulties of his office. He spoke with intense 
 admiration of the devoted wife from whom duty compelled 
 him to be absent so much. Her firmness, her self-dem'al, 
 her womanly character so highly developed, and so consci- 
 entiously meeting the responsibilities of her position as wife 
 and mother, were spoken of with the highest appreciation. 
 All this had greatly sustained him during weeks and 
 montlis of absence. He could trust all to the prudence, 
 the constancy, the decision, and the deep piety of a most 
 devoted and uncomplaining wife. 
 
 The Louisiana Conference was held at Thibodeanville. 
 Without his knowing it, three of the members were to sit 
 with him on the e})i.-c()pal bench. Holland N. JMcTyeire 
 was at this time stationed, at the Felicity Street Church, 
 
116 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 New Orleans,- and editor of the New Orleans Christian 
 Advocate. He was already making a deep impression on 
 the Conference and the Church. He wielded a powerful 
 pen. His style, original, terse, strong, and elegant in sim*- 
 plicity, was attracting wide attention and large apprecia- 
 tion. John C. Keener was among the most influential 
 juembers of the body. Calm, prudent, discriminating, with 
 a wonderful accuracy in judging character, a successflil 
 pastor, and a capital preacher, he had done as much in ad- 
 vancing Methodism in the Crescent City as any one who 
 had ever been sent to that important and yet most difticult 
 work. Then, he had Linus Parker, quite a young man, 
 but a rising young man. And I believe that the Bishop 
 ordained him as deacon at that Conference. It is certain 
 that he was ordained by Bishop Paine as deacon, elder, and 
 then Bishop. Thus ordained by the laying on of hands of 
 the same Bishop, he must have felt a strange reverence for 
 his venerable colleague. A storm of unusual feeling arose 
 during the session of the Conference. It originated in a 
 debate between two of the most prominent members of the 
 Conference. I was alarmed, and to cut off debate moved 
 the j^revious cpiestion, which Brother Keener seconded. 
 Dr. Thweatt, a venerable member, arose and complimented 
 the disputants on the great light thrown upon the subject, 
 but regretted that the light was attended by so nuich heat. 
 The Bishop pronounced my motion out of order. He 
 calmly held the reins, and he alone seemed perfectly self- 
 possessed. He knew the belligerents, and was assured their 
 Christian principles would allay the i:)erturbation produced 
 by the collision in debate. By his prudence, self-control, 
 and sweet Christian spirit, he soon calmed the storm, and all 
 was peace again. He showed himself what he was — a i\[eth- 
 odist Bishop, clothed with great authority, and exercising it 
 for the glory of God and the good of the Church. 
 
BISHOP OF TIIK M. K. CIIUIUII, SOUTH. 117 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Long Absence — Death Abroad and at Home — Powerful 
 
 Preaching. 
 
 TX 1852 he presided over the Conferences in JMissouri, In- 
 1 dian Territory, Arkansas, and Texas. He left home in 
 September, and did not get back until February, 1853. He 
 had the company of Dr. Sehon through a good portion of 
 this trip. The Doctor was the most courtly of gentlemen, 
 and an earnest, zealous, and eloquent preacher, but he was 
 not at all used to the hardships of a pioneer life. The 
 Bishop enjoyed his company, and did all to encourage him. 
 Horseback riding Avas any thing but pleasant to the Doctor, 
 and he was not prejDared for the rough usage to which the 
 Bishop had become accustomed. After the Indian Mission 
 Conference they separated, and the Bishop continued on 
 through Arkansas and Texas. At one of these Conferences 
 he was again taken very ill, and had to leave the chair with 
 a severe chill upon him. He arose from a sick-bed on the 
 Sabbath to ordain deacons and elders. On one of these 
 trips he was almost sure to be sick. This time he suffered 
 " with chills, spasms of the intercostal muscles, very sore 
 chest, ribs drawn up as if corded, slow pulse," etc. He 
 would spend a night sleepless and suftering, and travel in 
 a road-wagon or cariole all the next day. So he did not 
 .miss a Conference. He had time, too, to sympathize with 
 others. While traveling with Brother AVliipple, of the 
 Texas Conference, a report sadder than any ordinary death- 
 wtiil came to the travelers that Brother Whipple's son had 
 l)een drowned, and that his body could not be found. He 
 gave to his afflicted })rother the tenderest sympathies, and 
 expressed the hope that the report might be false. Upon 
 
118 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 their arrival at Bastrop, the seat of the Conference, they 
 found the report too true. The fl^ther was overwhelmed, 
 and the distress was increased by the loss of the body. On 
 the first day of the Conference the bcdy was found, and the 
 Conference adjourned to attend the funeral of Wilbur Scott 
 Whipple. The Bishop officiated, and gave great comfort to 
 the family by his tender Christian counsel and sweet words 
 of consolation, so radiant in our holy religion. As he re- 
 turned to the laborious duties of the Conference at two 
 o'clock P.M., he simply wrote in his diary: "Sleep on, 
 sweet one." Soon after his arrival at home, he was called 
 to suffer another great bereavement in the death of his 
 brother-in-law. Dr. Felix Manning. He died, saying: 
 "Bless the Lord, O my soul! Glory to God!" Of this 
 excellent man he says: "Dr. George Felix Manning Avas 
 among my dearest and most loved friends. A noble-hearted, 
 intelligent Christian gentleman, with as much purity, con- 
 sistency, and magnanimity as any one I have ever known. 
 His closing scene tender beyond description ; committed his 
 family to me. Glory to God! he is safe. I will join him. 
 May God bring us and all our families to unite in heaven 
 together forever! He will." A deeper Christian experi- 
 ence, a more thorough resignation to the Divine will, and a 
 holier trust in Him to Avhom he had committed all things, 
 mark the Christian character of Bishop Paine from year to 
 year. He seldom jiassed the anniversary of his birth with- 
 out a most devout recognition of the Divine poAver and a 
 reconsecrating of himself to God. Gratitude fills his heart 
 all the time. Love for the Church and the Master's cause 
 constantly inspires him. He continually prays for more 
 purity and fervor. He says: "^lethodism is right. All we 
 need is to dick closer to it in doctrine and discipline. I 
 want no change. The neglect of the General Rules and 
 class-meetings, family and private religion, is cause of greaf 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 119 
 
 fear, iind constitutes our greatest fault." His love for the 
 Church continued to grow ui)on him. He forgot nothing 
 tiiat concerned its highest interests. Among his regrets at 
 leaving home was that of losing, as he feared, some of that 
 influence "vvhich he "svished to exert upon the family circle. 
 Religion in the family was the only hope for the Church 
 and the world. It was the salt which must never lose its 
 s:ivor. It was the light which must shine out constantly 
 and brightly from Christian homes. Neglect of fam.ily re- 
 ligion he deprecated as one of the greatest evils that could 
 befall the Church. In September, 1853, he again leaves 
 his family and home for the Eastern division of Conferences. 
 He resigns home, wife and children, and all earthly inter- 
 ests, for Christ's sake and for souls. He presided at the Hol- 
 ston, Virginia, North, and South Carolina, Georgia, Ala- 
 bama, and Florida Conferences. His health was better than 
 usual. He preached at every Conference, and often in the 
 intervals. During this trip he preached again in Washing- 
 ton Street Church, Petersburg, Va., in Avhich he was or- 
 dained Bishop. His text was: "If any man love not the 
 Lord Jesus Christ, let him be anathema maranatha." 
 This was a favorite text with him. In discussing it he was 
 often sublimely eloquent. He delighted to show the loveli- 
 ness of the character of the Lord Jesus. Character-paint- 
 ing was often a strong and striking feature of his best ser- 
 mons. To paint the character of the blessed IVIaster was a 
 part of his divine mission. Jesus was lovely in his inno- 
 cence, in his benevolence, in his activity, in his entire un- 
 selfishness. He illustrated the condition of the world by a 
 city wliose water supply w^as cut off. The inhabitants were 
 dying of thirst. Not a drop of water in all the city. All 
 alike in (he palace and in hovels; tke rich and the poor 
 were suffering untold agonies. Lips were parched and 
 tongues without moisture. The skin was shriveling and the 
 
120 LIFE OF FvOBERT FAINE, D.D. 
 
 blood itself drying up for want of water. Then lie had a 
 benevolent engineer, coming as by magic, opening the i)ipes 
 and sending supplies of cool, limpid water to every home, 
 along every street, and restoring life to thousands of fam- 
 ishing people. The praise of such a man would be upon 
 every tongue and in every heart. It would not be hard to 
 love one possessed of such benevolence and bestowing such 
 blessings upon a dying people. Such was the character of 
 Christ. He found the world dying for the water of life — 
 all supplies had been cut off. He opened a fountain pure, 
 fresh, and inexhaustible. He said, 'Ho every one that 
 thirsteth, come ye to the waters.' Will ye not love him? 
 Ought he not to be loved? Love — deep, constant, and pure 
 ■ — is all he asks in return. Sooner let my tongue cleave to 
 the roof of my mouth than it should cease to speak his 
 praise. Love him? Yes, brethren, I will love him with 
 all my heart. Join me in this love to the best, truest, 
 and most unselfish Friend that man ever had." Then 
 he closed that sermon with an appeal such as I cannc^t 
 even try to reproduce. He seemed to stand upon Sinai. 
 I[is countenance shone like that of Moses. His words 
 burned. The curse from God "^vas portrayed with all the 
 power of sacred oratory. He seemed inspired. Munsey, 
 in his description of the lost soul, did not surpass his fiery 
 eloquence. God's fearful and deserved curse — blighting all 
 Ivappiness, destroying all hope, and pouring upon the ac- 
 cursed ingrate all the anathemas of a violated law — was de- 
 scribed in thoughts that breathed and words that burned. 
 When thus preaching, he seemed a very apostle of God, as 
 he was. The usual routine of work of the Conferences was 
 performed, with nothing which he regarded as worthy of 
 special notice in his diary. He got back to his home at an 
 earlier period than usual, and was rejoiced to find all in 
 good health and happy to welcome him. 
 
lUSHOP OF TlIK M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 121 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Tjiiui) General Conference — New IJi.siiors — Removal of 
 La Grange College. 
 
 TN May 1854, the third General C(Hiforence of the INIeth- 
 1 odist I{!pi.scoj)al Church, South, was held at Columbus, Ga. 
 It was found necessary to increase the number of Bishops 
 by the addition of three members. George F. Pierce, of 
 Georgia; Hubbard H. Kavanaugh, of Kentucky; and John 
 Early, of Virginia, were added to the Episcopal Board. Of 
 these the youngest was George F. Pierce. He was the son 
 of Dr. Lovick Pierce, and a favorite son of Georgia. He 
 was possessed of wonderful magnetism. His eloquence at- 
 tracted large crowds wherever he went. Of handsome 
 person, radiant countenance, commanding talents, he was 
 doubtless the most popular man of his age in the Connec- 
 tion. His election gave universal satisfaction. H. H. 
 Kavanauffh had lono; been a favorite in Kentucky. On 
 some occasions he astounded the people by his wonderful 
 pulpit eloquence. He had a fine voice, and when excited 
 his language seemed to be inspired as it conveyed to en- 
 tranced hearers thoughts at once original, striking, and 
 brilliant. His piety was of a high order, and his fitness for 
 the office of a Bishop lacked but one element, which he 
 never professed to have. He had no special talent for pre- 
 siding or conductimr the business of a Conference. But his 
 power in a pulpit and his jnire Cliristian life always made 
 him acceptable and popular. John Early was known t<> 
 possess one of the finest business minds in the Clunvh. He 
 had been one of the best presiding elders in the Old Domin 
 
122 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 ioii. He could conduct financial matters well, and had been 
 a successfhl Book Agent. He was growing old, and was the 
 choiceof Virginia, whose people he had served half a century. 
 
 In the fall of 1854 Bishop Paine held the Louisville, Ten- 
 nessee, Memphis, and Arkansas Conferences. He records 
 nothing of special moment as occuring at these Conferences 
 except the step taken at the Tennessee Conference to re- 
 move La Grange College to Florence, Ala. "The propo- 
 sition was to pay all the debts, erect superior buildings, and 
 assure both local patronage and a paying endowment of ten 
 thousand dollars."^ Bishop Paine had spent some of the 
 best days of his manhood in connection with this college. 
 He had groaned over it and labored for it. He loved the 
 m(»untain, and never tired of the beautiful scenery to be en- 
 joyed from its summit. The proposition was so liberal that 
 he could not oppose it. Dr. A. L. P. Green saw at once 
 the propriety of accepting the proposition, and offered a 
 resolution instructing the Board to remove. The offer was 
 to give better buildings, pay all the debts, and give an en- 
 dowment of about forty thousand dollars, and to assure a 
 local patronage larger than was then enjoyed from both 
 home and foreign patronage. The removal, I have reason 
 to know, met with the cordial approbation of Bishop Paine, 
 and was indeed the very best thing that could have been 
 done. The college more than doubled its patronage in less 
 than one year. It continued to flourish until the interne- 
 cine war broke it down. It is now, as elsewhere stated 
 in this biography, the State Normal College of Alabama, 
 and is still doing a great and good work in the cause of ed- 
 ucation. 
 
 On this round of Conferences he passed near the old 
 homestead in Giles countyj Tennessee. He visited the 
 
 *Thi^was the note in his diary. The offer was forty thousand 
 dollars. 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. K. CnURfH, SOUTH. 123 
 
 graves of his father and mother. Alone, with a train of 
 feelings so mingled as not to be described, he knelt and 
 prayed by the graves of those dear loved ones: "O that I 
 may meet these dear, precious parents in heaven!" Before 
 he had fairly finished his entire round of Conferences, he 
 was shocked by the sudden death of his colleague, Bishop 
 Capers. They had been life-long friends. Together they 
 had worked for the cause of the Master for many years ; 
 together they had taken the solemn vows of JNIethodist 
 Bishops. He had long honored Bishop Capers as being the 
 leader in the great effort made by the Southern Methodist 
 Church to Christianize the negroes. . He had always ad- 
 mired the spotless character of the great South Carolinian, 
 and he was much grieved by his death. A purer, truer 
 man than Bishop William Capers never occupied the epis- 
 copal office. Educated when but few of our ministers w ere 
 blessed with a liberal education ; a doctor of divinity when 
 no other Southern Methodist preacher was so honored; a 
 missionary to the negroes, and giving them sound yet simple 
 Biblical instruction in Sabbath-schools, when fierce fanatics 
 were pouring abuse upon him for being connected with 
 slavery; a preacher of great simplicity and purity of diction 
 and of much evangelical poAver; a fervent and faithful mis- 
 sionary to the Indians before their removal west of the 
 Mississippi River ; and wathal a man of deep piety and sweet 
 Bpirit — Bishop Capers passed away from us much lamented 
 by the whole Church, and by no one more than by Bishop 
 Paine, who had loved and admired him all his life. 
 Through the influence of Bishop Paine, when presiding over 
 La Grange College, the presidency of that institution was 
 offered to Dr. Capers. He did not accept the office, much 
 to the regret of President Paine, who thought him better 
 fitted for the office than himself I mention this fact to 
 show the life-long appreciation of his colleague by Bishop 
 
.124 LIFE OF KOBEKT PAIXE, D.D. 
 
 Paine. Then, they were consecrated together to their sacred 
 office; and this of course 2)roduced symjjathy between them. 
 He was the second of the Southern Bishops to be called 
 liome. A good man, "full of the Holy Ghost and full of 
 faith." He was ready for the summons. Without one 
 shrinking feeling, but with holy triumph, this Christian 
 Bishop met the last enemy, and all through the grace of 
 the Lord Jesus Christ. In a few brief years Bascom and 
 Capers had passed away. They were very unlike. Bas- 
 com was vehement, Capers was gentle. Bascom was terri- 
 ble as the storm, Capers was mild as the zephyr. Bascom 
 was a son of thunder, and the lightning played around his 
 head ; Capers was as gentle as a lamb, and always touched 
 the tenderest sensibilities of human nature. Both were 
 embassadors of CHirist, and had credentials from Heaven ; 
 but Bascom commanded. Capers persuaded. Bascom often 
 left his congregations dazed and overwhelmed; Capers al- 
 ways left his tender, subdued, melted. The death of each 
 was unexpected. They were both life -long friends of 
 Bishop Paine. He loved them both, and admired and ap- 
 preciated them, and deeply lamented the death of each as 
 of a brother beloved. Bascom died in the very beginning 
 of his work in the episcopal office, and before he had devel- 
 oped his character either in the chair or in the cabinet. 
 Bishop Capers had been on his rounds since 1846, and was 
 universally regarded as a polished shaft in Jehovah's quiv- 
 ei". He may not have been as able as others in the interpre- 
 tation of law, or in the poAver to preserve order, but in all 
 the elements of pure Christian character — meekness, trutli, 
 justice, and purity — he was equal to the very best. 
 
 Bishop Paine's round of Conferences for 1855 embraced 
 Kentucky, Western Virginia, Louisville, Tennessee, INleni- 
 phis, and Holston. He gives no account of what occuri-cd 
 at any of these Conferences. He simply records the fact 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CIIUUCII, SOUTH. 125 
 
 above stated. I siqipose he attended all these Conferences 
 and presided over them. It is certain he did so unless pre- 
 veuteil by sickness. AVe have seen that \vhen sick and 
 uorn with lal)or and travel he would persist in doing the 
 work assigned him. Tlie work in the East was becoming 
 less laborious, owing to the increased facilities for travel. 
 This was grateful to tl^ feelings and added greatly to the 
 comfort of the Bisho]), now nearly sixty years of age. 
 
126 LIFE OF ROBKKT PAJNE, D.D. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Education in Alabama — The Southern University — Prov- 
 idence — Perils — Law. 
 
 EARLY in the year 1855, Alabama Methodism became 
 intensely excited on the subject of education. The 
 question was, Two colleges, or one? The contest ended in 
 the establishment of two — one located at Auburn, in East 
 Alabama, and the other at Greensboro, in the western por- 
 tion of the State. Bishop Paine was called to preside over 
 the Board of Trustees of the Southern University to be es- 
 tablished at Greensboro. His love for the Church, his 
 large experience in the work of education, his extensive ac- 
 quaintance Avith the educators of the South, his great cau- 
 tion and prudence, admirably fitted him to preside over the 
 delilfcrations of a body then undertaking the grandest 
 Church enterprise in connection with education ever at 
 that time begun in the South. After the erection of suit- 
 able buildings, and the purchase of libraries, fixtures, etc., 
 needed for a university of high order, it was found that 
 they would have an endowment of more than two hundred 
 thousand dollars. This was the best showing that had ever 
 been made by Methodism in connection with her education- 
 al enterprises. The Board met for the first time on March 
 17, 1856. It was composed of men able, liberal, and true. 
 Bishop Andrew, far-seeing and trustworthy; Dr. Summei-s, 
 learned and cautious ; Dr. Hamilton, then the Nestor of Ala- 
 bama Methodism ; Dr. Wadsworth, pure, gentle, yet firm and 
 experienced ; Dr. Mitchell, with a character stately and ma- 
 jestic; and Dr. Neely, eloquent and enthusiastic, were among 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CIIUKCII, SOUTH. 127 
 
 the ministers in that body. Then the enterprising and lib- 
 eral De Yampert, the noble and statesmanlike Baker, the 
 gii'ted Er\\in, were among the laymen in that Board, to 
 which was committed this great educational interest. To 
 use a favorite expression of Dr. Summers's, they deter- 
 mined to make haste slowly. It was thought best not to 
 open the dooi-s of the university until they were read v. 
 Bishop Paine's greatest fear was that dormitories might be- 
 come necessary. To them he was conscientiously opposed, 
 lie had seen the evils resulting from placing boys in bar- 
 racks, or dormitories, away from family influence. God had 
 organized the fiimily. Its influence Avas needed to restrain, 
 to exalt, to save young men and boys from contracting 
 low, vicious habits. He l)elieved that boys at school should 
 become domesticated in refined and well-ordered families. 
 He \vas sure that deprived of the influence of mothers and 
 sisters, and Avith the hand of no pure, gentle woman to lead 
 them, they would be in danger of becoming demoralized, 
 and of going astray. So the dormitory system, as it was 
 then called, was not adopted. 
 
 On his return home he went by Mobile, and taking a 
 steamer there started up the river. The boat struck a 
 snag, and sunk in less than twenty miles from the citv. 
 Several persons were drowned. The Bishop says: "Our 
 escape was marvelous. God preserved us." He was but 
 Slightly hurt, but lost upward of seven hundred dollars by 
 the disaster. He was a strong believer in special provi- 
 dence. In all the disasters, both on land and water, whicli 
 seemed to threaten his life, he universally attributed his 
 preservation to Divine Providence. The sinking of tlie. 
 boat at night, accompanied by the loss of every thing on 
 board, and by the drowning of several persons, was certain- 
 ly an alarming event. It was wonderful that more lives 
 were not lost. That he was saved with but slight injurio 
 
128 LIFE OF ROr.FRT FAIXE, D.D. 
 
 caused him to bow in humble gratitude to his Heavenly 
 Father and reconsecrate himself to his service. 
 
 On October 9, 1856, he left home on his fourth tour of 
 Western Conferences. This was the anniversary of his 
 conversion. "It was on October 9, 1817, God forgave my 
 sins. Praise him! It is a great cross to leave home to be 
 gone so long, and so far away. I never desired the office of 
 a Bishop, and but for love to Christ would not be one. This 
 is to be a hard trip — am almost sick on it. Came near dy- 
 ing twice on this same trip. I will go for Christ's sake. 
 Am ready to suffer, or if need be, to die on my work. 
 Precious ones at home, farewell! So sweet a place I shall 
 not soon see again. God guard us all." Such was the 
 touching entry he made in his diary on his departure for 
 this most laborious tour. He again passed through the In- 
 dian Territory, in company with his old friend Dr. E. W. 
 Sehon. They underwent the usual hardships and trials. 
 At a very indifferent Indian tavern, at which they were 
 compelled to pass the night. Dr. Sehon became very anx- 
 ious and suspicious. It seemed to him that some of the 
 guests were prowling around with no good intentions. He 
 suggested to the Bishop that their lives were in danger. 
 The countenances, whisperings, and general deportment of 
 these men certainly foreboded no good. They would leave 
 the house, and after apparent consultation would return as 
 if bent upon mischief. The Bishop felt that they were 
 really in the power of ruffians, but he remained perfect- 
 !}• calm, went to bed and slept well. The Doctor kept 
 watch during the whole night. In the morning they 
 .were both thankful that a merciful Providence had 
 guarded them fi*om all danger, and that they were safe in 
 his hands. 
 
 From the Indian Mission Conference they went over 
 rough roads, and by conveyances both public and private, 
 
riSIIOP OF TIIK M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 129 
 
 and of various kinds, to tlie Texas Conference, held at Wa- 
 co; thence, in a simihir manner, to the West Texas Con- 
 ference, held at Gonzales. After holdinirthe Western Tex- 
 as Conference they left in a stage-coach for Kichmond, and 
 thence by railroad to Harrisburg at which place they took 
 a steam-boat for Galveston. During this round of Confer- 
 ences he had passed through unusual perils. Just before 
 starting, the boat upon which he was traveling had sunk, 
 and he had lost over seven hundred dollars. On the trip 
 he had been robbed of one hundred and fifty dollars. He 
 could truthfully apply to himself the words of the great 
 Apostle to the Gentiles: "In journeyings often, in perils of 
 waters, in perils of robbers, in perils by the heathen, in per- 
 ils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in weariness and 
 painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst. Be- 
 sides those things that are without, that which cometh upon 
 me daily, the care of all the churches." I do not desire by 
 any means to exaggerate his dangers, trials, and sufferings 
 on this long and exposed route, but according to these 
 brief entries in his diary, the quotation taken from St. 
 Paul can be literally and truly applied to Bishop Paine 
 on this long and dangerous tour. At the Conferences he 
 was always treated with princely hospitality. The danger 
 Avas in passing through a wild country from one Conference 
 to another. Among his brethren he had every attention, 
 and wanted for nothing. No man could have been more 
 thankful than he was for the generous hospitality extended 
 to him whenever he met either ministers or members of the 
 Church. He felt, however, that he owed his safety to the 
 special providence of God. After this long trip, he arrived 
 safe, hapi)y, and grateful at his own dear home, on January 
 22, 1857. 
 
 In 1857, he held the I\[emphis Conference at Holly 
 Springs. Here he was again taken very ill, and was alto- 
 
 9 
 
130 LIFE OF ROEEIIT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 gether unable to preach, and ^vas scarcely able to perf(»i m 
 the services of ordination. It is always an affliction for the 
 Bishop to be unable to preach at Conference. The people 
 expect it, and few of our preachers are willing to stand in 
 the Bishop's place just for that one responsible hour. ISlany, 
 of course, could fill the office permanently, and W(juld bo 
 willing to do so at the call of the Church, At this Confer- 
 ence there was at least one man who could have occupied 
 the episcopal chair and filled the pulpit both with credit 
 to himself and honor to the Church, and good to the peoi)le. 
 That man was G. W. D. Harris, of precious memory. He 
 was a man of rare powers. His elocution was well-nigh 
 perfect. His articulation was distinct, his manner graceful, 
 his matter deep, sound, and evangelical, and his appearance 
 dignified and commanding. Back of all this was a char- 
 acter solid as granite, and as pure as solid. To him was 
 committed the task of filling the pulpit in place of the 
 Bishop. Of course he did his Avork like an apostle, yet it 
 was a disappointment that the Bishop could not do his own 
 work. He enters in his journal: "Sorry that I am not able 
 to do my duty." At this Conference some legal questions 
 of importance were decided. Among them, this: "Upon 
 the reference by the preacher of the trial of a member to 
 the Quarterly Conference, should the Conference adjudicate 
 the case, or consider it with regard to the proi)riety of re- 
 manding it?" The answer of the Bishop was: "The Con- 
 stitution of the Church guarantees the right of trial and 
 appeal. The General Conference cannot take away that 
 right, directly or indirectly. Therefore, the expulsion by 
 the Quarterly Conference of a member acquitted by the so- 
 ciety, as it cuts off appeal, is unconstitutional and void. 
 The Quarterly Conference may advise or order a new trial, 
 but cannot expel, unless the defendant appeals from the de- 
 cision of the lower court. He has no aj)peal if the Quarter- 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 131 
 
 ly Conference try him before he api)eal.s. It is always saf- 
 est to construe the hiw so as not to conflict witli the consti- * 
 tution." I have given this decision of the Bisliop because 
 it shows not only a clear knowledge of constitutional law, 
 but because it shows his sense of justice and regard for char- 
 acter. His rule was that no man could be expelled from 
 the Church without a trial by his peers. Whether layman 
 or minister, he had the inalienable right of trial. before ex- 
 pulsion. 
 
 He also held the South Carolina Conference, at Char- 
 lotte, North Carolina. He delivered the missionary ad- 
 dress at this Conference, and with great success. On such 
 occasions he was at times surpassingly grand. He was so 
 at this Conference. As the result, a very large missionary 
 collection was raised, many giving fifty dollars apiece. His 
 eloquence warmed the hearts, melted the sympathies, and 
 caused these deep feelings to manifest themselves in rich 
 gifts laid upon God's altar. Thence he passed into Colum- 
 bia, South Carolina, and was there at the commencement of 
 the college over which his old friend Dr. A. B. Longstreet 
 was presiding. The Legislature was also in session, and he 
 had a delightful week of rest, and innocent social and intel- 
 lectual recreation. 
 
 The Georgia Conference, over which he presided, was_ 
 held this year, at Washington, Georgia. Here he met 
 Bishop Pierce, and his father, Dr. Lovick Pierce, with both 
 of whom he enjoyed himself greatly. He mentions the 
 session of the Conference as one of the most pleasant he had 
 ever attended. 
 
 He also visited Macon, Georgia, the seat of the first col- 
 lege for young ladies that was ever chartered. His oldest 
 daughter was there, and had recently been happily convert- 
 ed. The visit was a joyous one to both. He rejoiced in 
 heart-felt experimental religion. He had experienced it, 
 
132 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 and always recurred with joy and gratitude to his own con- 
 version. He v.as a deeply experienced Christian, and grow- 
 ing more so as the years advanced. The regeneration of 
 the heart, by the baptism of the Holy Ghost, was ever with 
 him a cardinal dt)ctrine. We have seen him in his early 
 ministry talking to mourners and leading them to Christ. 
 As he became a presiding elder, and then as president of a 
 college, and afterward as Bishop of the Church, he con- 
 tinued to impress this divine truth upon all who heard him. 
 He never felt that it was beneath any man in any vocation 
 to seek and find, and enjoy with all the rapture of a con- 
 verted soul, the witness of the Holy Spirit. He never 
 doubted his own conversion. He ever rejoiced that he was 
 a sinner saved by grace. The happy conversion of his 
 daughter was a benediction to him, and he records it with 
 gratitude. 
 
 Since beginning to write this book, I have received a let- 
 ter from Brother R. L. Clark, of Verona, Mississippi, who 
 was led to Christ in 1833, during the first great revival at 
 La Grange College. He writes : " Bishop Paine was the 
 instrument in my conversion. He was instructing me 
 when I embraced Christ as my Saviour. And now for the 
 space of fifty years he has been my wisest, safest, best of 
 friends and counselors." Such is the testimony of many 
 living witnesses. Whenever the Bishop was able to preach, 
 he always did so. During this tour of Conferences he 
 preached on "heart purity as essential to the perfection 
 of Christian character." He often chose such subjects as 
 "Walking with God," "Filled with the fullness of God," 
 "Blessed are the pure in heart." This, too, was a trying 
 period of his life. He had a large estate to manage. To 
 a conscientious man as he was this brought great care, as 
 well as responsibility. Then, there was the care of all the 
 churches, the appointments of the preachers to their work, 
 
Bisiior OF TiiK M. i:. ("iii'Rcir, Horiir. 133 
 
 tlie ecUu'tition of his children, and fuhled to all these the 
 })roper organization of the Southern University, at Greens- 
 boro, Alabama. Perplexed, tried, cast down at times, he 
 never faltered in his consecration, never wavered in his re- 
 ligious experience, never forgot his first love, but was con- 
 stantly growing in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord 
 and Saviour Jesus Christ. 
 
J34 I.II'E OF ItOIiEKT PAINK, D.I). 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 General Conference at Nashville — Bishop Soule — Epis- 
 copal Tour. 
 
 TN May, 1858, the fourth General Conference of the Meth- 
 1 odist Episcopal Church, South, was held in Nashville, 
 Tenn. Bishop Soule opened and organized the Conference. 
 He was then far advanced in years. He still maintained 
 that wonderful dignity of character which had marked his 
 entire career. He was a great man, and no one could behold 
 him without feeling that he was in the presence of a great 
 man. He had grown old gracefully. He had borne with 
 meekness all the honors heaped upon him by the Church. 
 He had also borne with uncomplaining patience, and with 
 the spirit of Christian forgiveness, all the reproaches which 
 had fallen upon him because of his adherence to the South- 
 ern Church. He was loved and honored by Southern Meth- 
 odists with all the intensity of warm Southern hearts. He 
 gave his ready consent to the removal of the rule from the 
 Discipline in reference to slavery, holding that the entire 
 question should be relegated to the State. 
 
 In the fall of 1858 Bishop Paine again started on his 
 episcopal tour. He first held the jNIemphis Conference at 
 Trenton, Tenn. On his way he paid a visit to his brother 
 Constantine. He had much serious religious conversation 
 with his brother, whom he found in a cold, backslidden con- 
 dition. This gave him very great concern. He felt during 
 these repeated conversations that his brother was about to 
 begin religious life in earnest. A fervent, humble prayer 
 was offered : " O that he may ! " 
 
 He left with the assurance that his visit had been of great 
 
KISIlOi* OF Tin: M. K. CIUIKH, SOl'TIL 135 
 
 spiritual honefit to him. At Trenton, Tenn., he had a de- 
 lightful time with old friends from Murfreesboro, who had 
 known him in their ehildhodd, and whose parents had 
 been members of his Church durim:- his early ministry. It 
 was always a deliLcht to him to revive these pleasant recollec- 
 tions and renew the friendshijis of other years. He preached 
 several times on his way to Conference, and dedicated one 
 or two churches. At the Conference he preached on Christ 
 able to save to the uttermost. This was a favorite theme 
 with him. The atonement was to him a cardinal doctrine 
 of the Holy Scriptures. Christ was the Lamb slain. His 
 sulferings were vicarious. He tasted death for every man. 
 His sufferings and death w^ere not mere expressions of God's 
 love to a world lying in wickedness. They were much more. 
 They expressed law and justice, and met all the requirements 
 of the divine government, so that God could be just and 
 yet justify the ungodly. He never left Wesleyan Method- 
 ism. His love of originality never caused him to forsake 
 the old paths. He was neither Calvinist nor Pelagian, but 
 an Arminian, and held to the doctrine of the atonement as 
 tauiiht by Richard Watson and other great standards of 
 Methodist theology. 
 
 From Trenton he went to the Alabama Conference, at 
 which he stationed two hundred preachers. Again he wa.s 
 suffering with sick headache, and unable to preach. Dr. 
 Thomas O. Sunmiers filled his place in the pulpit. No 
 purer man has lived in this century than Thomas O. 
 Summers. He was learned, earnest, instructive, logical, 
 and evangelical as a preacher, and fit to fill any pulpit, 
 and always ready to do the Master's work. " Honestly and 
 patiently" the Bishop made the appointments, and gave 
 (rcneral satisfaction. During this round the organization 
 of the Southern University was completed. An able Fac- 
 ulty was elected. Dr. AVilliam M. Wightman was made 
 
13G LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 Chancellor. A course of study was adopted similar to that 
 required io the University of Virginia. In all this the 
 Board of Trust was greatly assisted by the wise counsels 
 and large experience of Bishop Paine, who presided over 
 their deliberations. At Woodville, Miss., he held the Mis- 
 sissippi Conference, and soon after opened the Louisiana 
 Conference at New Orleans. At this Conference he met 
 with his old and long-tried friend the Rev. Alexander Sale. 
 It was a joy to them both. For more than sixteen years 
 they had worked together for the cause of education at La 
 Grange College — the Bishop being President and Brother 
 Sale one of the Board of Trust. 
 
 In Virginia, as circuit preacher and presiding elder, the 
 Bev. Alexander Sale hq,d served the Church with great 
 ability. So he had in Tennessee and Alabama. He was 
 now old and gray-headed, but still erect, stately, and strong. 
 He had married the Bishop to his last wife, and had been 
 with him in joy and in sorrow. He was the father of Bishop 
 Linus Parker's first wife, and was always worthy to be the 
 companion and counselor of Bishops. They met at that 
 Conference for the last time on earth. * They have met 
 again amid the assembly of God's saints in heaven. 
 
 Bishop Paine returned home from his round of Confer- 
 ences in time to enjoy watch-night meeting at the church 
 in Aberdeen, his own home. After a talk suited to such 
 an occasion, he, with his brethren, closed the old year 1858 
 and entered upon the new year on his knees. It had been 
 forty-one years since his happy conversion and his entrance 
 upon the ministry. His consecration to God had been re- 
 n(!wed a thousand times. It was again, most solemnly — in 
 view of the past and the future, and in union with mend)ers 
 of his own family and his people in Aberdeen — renewed just 
 as one year passed out and another was ushered in. 
 
 Soon after this he stood by the bedside of his old friend 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 137 
 
 Thomas Brandon as he was dying. ITc saw him as'he gave 
 the hist kiss of ailection to his wife and children. Although 
 he could not articulate distinctly, he gave sufficient testi- 
 mony that all was well, and that he was trusting Him whom 
 he had served so long. The Bishop had known him at 
 lluntsville, Ala., for many years. He buried him and 
 l)rcached his fiiueral-sermou. 
 
 In June he attended the commencement exercises of the 
 "Wesleyan College, at Macon, Ga., and had the pleasure of 
 witnessing the graduati(m of his oldest daughter, Sarah Fe- 
 lix. As his children were 'growing up, he felt more and 
 more the necessity of religion at home. Religious training 
 more than ever seemed to take hold of his feelino-s. Sarah 
 had been converted while at college. Robeit was quite a 
 youth, and though bright and promising, v^as not yet a 
 Christian. The time for his Western tour of Conferences 
 was approaching. Rol)ert was to go with him. The heart 
 of the father was made glad by the happy conversion of his 
 sou during that same tour. The son has remained faithful, 
 and was a lay delegate to our last General Conference in 
 1882, which was held in Nashville, Tenn. ; and there and 
 then the sad scene was witnessed when the dear old Bishoj), 
 worn down by labors and disease, asked to be relieved from 
 active duty. 
 
 At the Indian Mission Conference he preached the funer- 
 al-sermon of his old Tennessee friend the Rev. Wilson L. 
 IMcAlister. Together they had fought the good fight of 
 faith many years before. They had loved each other long 
 and tenderly. For twenty years Brother McAlister had 
 been a missionary to the Indians. He was a man of great 
 j)urity of character and of high order of talents. The 
 Bishop's text was, "Every man that hath this hope in hiiL 
 purifieth himself, even as he is pure" (1 John iii. 8). His 
 object was to show the purifying power of the Christian 
 
IhS LIFE OF KOliEKT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 hope as it was manifested in the life and character of Wil- 
 son L. McAlister. He says of him: "Pare, lovely, useful^ 
 Purity of heart had long been a favorite doctrine of the 
 Bishop. It was becoming more and more so. During this 
 trip to the five Western Conferences he preached twenty-one 
 times, and often with great liberty. He received such bap- 
 tisms of the Holy Spirit as caused his heart to rejoice with 
 unspeakable joy. He was happy in the enjoyment of a })ure 
 religion. He does not hesitate to record in his journal these 
 manifestations of the love of God and the joy which filled 
 iiis soul. It has often been said that the Bishop's preaching 
 lacked the subjective element. He did not often speak of 
 himself in the pulpit. This fact led some to believe that 
 lie did not enjoy that d^ep experience and sweet commun- 
 is »n with God which are very apparent in his diary. The 
 diary was intended for his own eye. He did not expect it 
 t<3 be read by others. It is full of religious emotion. A 
 constant cry for a deeper work of grace, accompanied by 
 thanksgiving, is found permeating these brief life-notes. 
 " Praise him — yes, praise him ! I am happy. Living or dying, 
 I am the Lord's!" Such passages as these show that joy 
 and i)eace were the fruits of the Spirit in his own heart. 
 These transporting feelings sometimes bore him beyond 
 himself in the pulpit, and caused him to give a shout of 
 triumph. I remember once to have heard him at an An- 
 nual Conference thrill an immense congregation by a burst 
 of praise. He had occasion to quote the song of the angels 
 at the birth of Christ, " Glory to God in the highest," etc. 
 " Brethren," said he, " I have often hoard that song. I have 
 heard it as coming from angel songsters, as it floated over 
 the vine-clad hills of Palestine, and along the shores of her 
 ^vinding streams, and up her mountain slopes, and down lier 
 fci'tile valleys. I have heard it sung by the young convert 
 as with streaming eyts and countenance all aglow he for the 
 
BISHOI* OF THE M. E. CIirKCir, SOUTH. 139 
 
 first time ^ave <!:l()ry to God. I have heard it from the old 
 soldier of the eross, who alter «i:aiiiiiig some signal victory 
 over the foe gave vent to his feelings in a shout of praise. 
 I have heard it from the dying Christian, as the clouds of 
 death were gilded with celestial light and he seemed to look 
 through the o])en doors and into the eternal city. Yes, 
 brethren, I have heard it from hundreds at one time as 
 they joined in hearty chorus, giving glory to God. And 
 however and whenever I have heard it, whether from anirels 
 or from happy Christians, young or old, living or dying, I 
 have said, I '11 join them, I '11 join them. 'Glory to God in 
 the highest, anil on earth ^leace, good-will toward men!'" 
 Then it was his lips seemed touched "with a live coal from 
 off the altar." His fine face was in a glow of excitement. 
 The immense congregation, composed largely of Methodist 
 preachers, was deeply moved, and, "Amen ! I '11 join them," 
 came up in tremulous, joyous tones from scores of liap})y 
 listeners. 
 
140 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 Watch-night — John Hersey — Buchanan — Interestinq 
 Visit — Threatenings of War. 
 
 AFTER his long AVestern tour of 1859, he arrived at his 
 home in time to enjoy another watch-night. He says: 
 " Thank God for the last year ! So many ble.ssings of provi- 
 dence and grace. I am the Lord's, and all mine is his. 
 My covenant of consecration, full and perpetual, I renew. 
 Amen." In this manner he was constantly renewing his 
 consecration to God. "All mine is his." Could a conse- 
 cration be more thorough ? With 'this vow upon him, he 
 entered upon the year 1860. 
 
 Early in January he was visited by his old friend the 
 Rev. John Hersey, who was a man of singular piety. He 
 was a radical on the subject of dress, as also on the duties 
 of fasting. When Robert Paine was quite a youth, he be- 
 came acquainted with this remarkable man. He induced 
 him to fast twice in the week when he was performing full 
 work on a circuit extending over several thousand square 
 miles. It greatly affected his health, and had it been per- 
 sisted in, w^ould probably have caused his death. John 
 Hersey was, however, a good man. He spent years as a 
 missionary in Africa, and was ever ready to do or to suffer 
 for the Master's cause. More than forty years had passed 
 since their last meeting. The Bishop gave him a cordial 
 welcome to his own elegant home, and was glad to hear him 
 deliver sermon after sermon in the church at Aberdeen. 
 He enjoyed the visit of this remarkable man, and wrote an 
 interesting account of it which was published in one of our 
 Southern papers. He left home in October for the Holstou 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CIirRril, SOUTH. 141 
 
 Conference. He stopped at Knoxville tuul preached to a 
 large, attentive, and serious congregation. The Conference 
 was held at x\sheville, ^vhere he met Dr. H. N. McTyeire 
 and heard him preach an impressive sermon prior to the 
 ordination of elders at 3 o'clock p.m. on the Sabbath. 
 The Bishop had preached in the forenoon on " Occupy till 
 I come." A trial of one of the first ministers gave the 
 Bishop great trouble. Such trials ahvays affected him very 
 much. His love for the Church caused him to feel the 
 deepest anxiety in regard to the result of the trial of a 
 brother minister. He always felt the deep need of a pure 
 ministry and of a holy Church. In a trial of the promi- 
 nent member of the Holston Conference, he was rejoiced 
 that the minister was cleared by a vote almost unanimous, 
 and that the Church would not be injured. 
 
 He arrived at home in time to witness the death of one 
 of his most precious friends, Mrs. George Phelan, the wife 
 of Senator Phelan, and sister of Mrs. Governor Ed. O'Neal, 
 of Alabama. She died right, as she had lived right. She 
 was the granddaughter of old Father Moore, of Huntsville, 
 Ala., at the time of his death the oldest :Methodist minister 
 on this continent; The Bishop and his family loved her 
 much, and deeply mourned her death. He had known her 
 from childhood, and always recognized her as one of the 
 best of Christian women. The country was at this time in 
 the greatest excitement of its political history. He enters 
 in his journal: "Lincoln will be elected to-morrow President 
 
 of the United States, and then 1 fear the dissolution 
 
 of the Union." Innnediately after t\\Q Presidential elec- 
 tion, he held the Virginia Conference and visited Washing- 
 ton City. He was the guest of Secretary Floyd, a member 
 of Mr.- Buchanan's cabinet. Of his visit to President Buch- 
 anan he says : 
 
 '*In filling my appointments of 'episcopal visitation,' I 
 
142 LIFE OF ROBEKT FAINE, D.D. 
 
 was to preside at the Yirgiiiia Conference in Alexandria, 
 beginning Wednesday, Xov. 21, 1860. Arriving at Wash- 
 ington City several days in advance of that date, and while 
 dining, by invitation, at Governor Floyd's, a note was re- 
 ceived fi'om President Buchanan requesting him to bring 
 jne with him to the White House that evening. Governor 
 Floyd was then Secretary of War, and ^Ir. Lincoln had 
 l)een elected President, but not inauglirated. Soon after 
 supper, at which the late Bishop (then Dr.) Doggett, stationed 
 in the city, was also present, the Governor and myself went 
 to see Mr. Buchanan. Not having finished his tea, he in- 
 sisted that, as there was no other company present, we should 
 go with him into the dining-room. He soon introduced the 
 subject of the threatened 'secession' — saying, in substance, 
 that he had learned through his Secretary of War that 1 
 was a Southern Methodist Bishop upon a tour of official 
 duty through the Southern States, and resided in Missis- 
 sippi; that he would like to know what are really the fiicts 
 as to the public sentiment in the South. ' What will the 
 Southern States do? Will they follow^ South Carolina if 
 she goes out? or will they likely split upon the question? 
 And what about South Carolina? can any thing be done to 
 prevent rash action on her part?' He wished to learn 
 from a candid and reliable man who loves his country a 
 fair statement of his views on these points. In reply, I ob- 
 served that, as regarded myself, as I was never a politician, 
 hav'ing studiously avoided partisan excitement — insomuch 
 that for thirty years past I had not voted for a President, 
 in order to give an example to younger ministers, and thus 
 to reserve my influence for moral and religious ends — I might 
 not be good authority upon the political questions now so 
 seriously endangering the harmony of the Union ; that my 
 opinion as to what the South would do was not formed })y 
 personal intercoui-se while on my Conference visitations 
 
lusiiop OK Tiir: M.*!-;. cinKrir, soiTir. 148 
 
 (luring the year, as I had attended but one, and that was the 
 Holston held at Asheville, N. C-., where I liad always un- 
 derstood politieal |)arties were generally about e(jually d.- 
 vided ; but how tliey stood on that question I knew not — had 
 not incjuired. In faet, all I knew was from the public press 
 and casual talk while traveling. It afforded an opportunity, 
 which was gladly embraced, of saying that while we })reael.- 
 ers claimed, as citizens, all the rights and innnunities ( f 
 freemen, we had adopted the principles of discouraging and 
 opposing the introduction and discussion of all purely po- 
 litical questions in our Conferences and pulpits; and that 
 this was so well understood and apj^roved by our preachers 
 that since the organization of the Southern Church I had 
 witnessed no attempt to violate it. But as he seemed di'- 
 sirous to know^ my opinion, I frankly told him that since I 
 left my home in Mississippi I had learned that the Legis- 
 lature had been called, and with a view to a convention, 
 which I presumed would likely take action upon the ques- 
 tion of secession ; and I apprehended that she and the other 
 Southern States would likely follow South Carolina. He 
 seemed greatly troubled — would sip his tea, get up and 
 walk about the room, and again take his seat, and presently 
 resume the walk. He evidently felt distressed ; regarded it 
 as wrong — wrong to him personally as a Democrat and 
 ever a friend to the South, and involving principles and re- 
 sults extremely dangerous; results no one could fully fore- 
 tell. 1 sympathized with him. Upon his alluding to the 
 evils of division and the probability of a civil war, I re- 
 minded him that some thought that from what he had pub- 
 lished he held the opinion that the United States troops 
 could not be legally employed against a sovereign State in 
 si(eh a ccu?e. There was a pause, and the Secretary replied : 
 *We have carefully looked into that question, and have not 
 found the authority to do so.' The President, I believe, 
 
144 LIFE OF ROBlfRT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 made no direct reply, simply remarking: 'When the pas- 
 sions of men are aroused, there is no telling where the 
 thing will end.' The subject was dropped as to that point. 
 He, however, appeared anxious to prolong the conversation, 
 and to get my views as to the dangers ahead, and as to the 
 best way to prevent an outbreak. I candidly told him that 
 I feared a conflict might occur, without design of either the 
 State of South Carolina or the United States, at Charleston ; 
 and that probably by prudence and forbearance for awhile 
 feelings would calm down, and the danger subside. In this 
 I was plainly telling my convictions and hopes, for I con- 
 fess I did not then appreciate the imminency of the storm. 
 1 inquired of him, ' What kind of a man have you at Fort 
 Moultrie? ' To this he responded quickly : ' By the by, that 
 reminds me that the officer there reported last week that a 
 collision had like to have occurred at the Charleston wharf 
 between our men and some citizens, as to the right or pref- 
 erence of our captain's little vessel and some hot-bloods, and 
 was only avoided by cool-headed citizens.' As to the officer, 
 he said: 'He is somewhat nervous, a Northerner, a good 
 officer, but not likely to forbear much.' I asked him if it 
 might not be better to have another man from neither South 
 nor New England — a firm, good-natured Western man. 
 While we all felt very uneasy as to the future, I was hope- 
 ful, trusting that if things could be kept quiet until the in- 
 coming Administration should be firmly seated, our sky 
 would brighten, and by some unforeseen means amity be re- 
 stored. I think the President and Governor Floyd had the 
 same hopes. 
 
 "Before that interview closed, I was asked if I had any 
 acquaintance in South Carolina who might be competent 
 and willing to write a few strong articles, and get them pub- 
 lished in a paper in Columbia or Charleston, discouraging 
 an outbreak by the young men. After reflecting awdiile, I 
 
r.iKiioi' OF THE :su i*. (iivia ii, south. 145 
 
 told him my iu'(juiiintance among that class of men there 
 was very limited, as it recjuired a litei-ary and influential 
 man, whose name, qualities, and j)osition were not easily 
 found by a transient visitor as I had been in that State: 
 but I thought I knew one man who could do it, and might 
 })e willing to do so in the interest of peace, hnv, and oidei-, 
 although decidedly and in every respect a Southerner. I'p- 
 on his saying that the fact last mentioned would give his 
 advice more weight, and asking me to write to him, I agreed 
 to do so. I did write to my friend; he consented, and 1 
 learned he redeemed his promise, and it was thought with 
 good effect. This convei"sation took place Nov. 19, i860; 
 and I here state positively that during it nothing was said 
 or intimated that any of the 'forts, arsenals, or other prop- 
 erty of the United States at Charleston, was to be surren- 
 dered to the State.' I soon learned that INIajor Anderson 
 was in command there — a Western man, I believe — and 
 that an increased confidence was felt for the conservation of 
 peace until Congress should meet; but the shadows deep- 
 ened, and a storm burst suddenly. So much I deem just to 
 the dead and the living. R. Paine." 
 
 Bishop Paine was a prudent Christian patriot. At the 
 South Carolina Conference resolutions were offered in sym- 
 pathy with the secession movement. He ruled them out of 
 order, and they were not pressed upon the Conference. 
 The Bishop held the reins with a firm grasp. He said, " Pol- 
 itics cannot be allowed in a Methodist Conference." They 
 were therefore kept out. Would that they had always been 
 kept out of Methodist Conferences! The South Carolina 
 Conference was the last over which he presided before the 
 terrible internecine war which for four terrible years swept 
 like a fearful cyclone over our dear Southland. 
 10 
 
146 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 The Civil War — Sorrow upon Sorrow. 
 
 (THORTLY after the session of the Virginia Conference, 
 5l) durinof which he had his interview with President Buch- 
 anan, he returned home, and awaited events with the great- 
 est anxiety. With the fall of Sumter the call was made 
 by President Lincoln for seventy-f.ye thousand volunteers. 
 The bloody war of four long, disastrous years followed. 
 During these years he kept no regular diary. A note now 
 and then of an important battle, of a terrible raid, of the 
 death of some dear friend killed in battle, or of a day ap- 
 pointed for fasting and prayer, and then a pious, tearful 
 ejaculation, "O God, protect our people ! " constituted about 
 all that can be found among his papers of what he recorded 
 during the war. He was not a politician, and I never 
 knew whether he favored the secession movement or not. 
 AVhen, however, his people were involved in this internecine 
 strife, all his sympathies were with his native South. He 
 was much discouraged from almost the beginning of the 
 war. He staid much at home. He communed with his 
 own heart. He offered silent, secret, fervent prayer to 
 God. He preached mostly in the country to those who 
 needed much his pious counsel and spiritual teachings. He 
 held but few Conferences. He sometimes visited the Con- 
 federate armies and preached to the soldiers. The regular 
 work of the itinerant Methodist ministry was to a large 
 extent broken up. The portion of country in which he 
 lived was subject to raids at any time after the fall of Fort 
 Pillow and Nashville and Memphis; and then Natchez and 
 Vicksburg fell into the hands of the victorious North. 
 What could he do ? He was then more than sixty years 
 
BISHOP OF TIIK M. E. rilUKCII, SOUTH. 147 
 
 old, and he was not able to undergo the toils and sufferings 
 of a soldier's life. Besides, his warfare was one not to be 
 fought^ with carnal wea])()ns. He was a soldier of the cross, 
 and he could wield no other swoixl than the "sword of the 
 Spirit." He prepared himself for the defeat which he well 
 knew was sure to come. He saw it coming long before 
 President Davis or his cabinet thought of any thing else 
 than Southern inde})endence. At the instance of many 
 friends he visited Richmond at an early period of the war, 
 and sought to arouse the Confederate President to a sense 
 of the certain ruin that was soon to come to Mississippi, and 
 then to all the South. His wise and moderate words were 
 not heeded. Other counsels prevailed. He returned to 
 his home patient, resigned. It was all right. God knew 
 what was best for the South. The noblest and truest men 
 of the South were disappointed. Never were a people more 
 thoroughly subdued. They fought until the " last ditch " 
 was reached, and they could fight no more. Having fought 
 bravely, the officers of the Southern armies, from General 
 Robert E. Lee to the humblest captain, surrendered in good 
 ftiith. The almost universal sentiment among the good peo- 
 ple of the South was submission to the Government by which 
 they had been subdued. 
 
 During the war he had charge of the chaplains in the 
 Southern army, and often himself preached to the soldiers, 
 both in and out of camp. He nursed the sick and wounded 
 in hospitals, and when practicable had his own house full of 
 them. His capture was strongly desired by troops making 
 raids through North JNlississippi. He was told by a re- 
 turned Confederate prisoner that in a conversation, between 
 two Federal officers it was said that they intended to carry 
 that old rebel Bishop back with them if he could be found ; 
 consequently he frequently left home unexpectedly and spent 
 days and nights in the forest to avoid ca2)ture — Aberdeen 
 
148 LIFE OF PvOBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 being- on contested ground, and being much exposed to raids 
 from the invading army. Mrs. Scruggs (liis daughter) sends 
 us the folloAving, taken from lier diary kei)t during the war : 
 
 "January 1, 1865. — Father returned home to-day from 
 the southern part of the State, where he had been to avoid 
 the Federal raid. 
 
 "January 2. — Federal soldiers reported burning farm- 
 houses north of Aberdeen. Father on horseback, ready to 
 leave town at any time. 
 
 "February 13. — He preached to the soldiers in camp to- 
 day. 
 
 " February 25. — Father and mother went to his plantation 
 to superintend the nursing of his sick negroes, thirty-eight 
 being down with the measles at the same time. Many of 
 the negroes are very ill, and many died. One old family 
 servant, to whom he was much attached, was very low with 
 the measles. He nursed her day and nio-ht, and when he 
 discovered she must die, he informed her of her danger, 
 prayed with her, and told her if after she became speech- 
 less her faith was still unwavering, to raise her hand. Just 
 before she breathed her last she did raise her hand toward 
 heaven, and said in a feeble voice: 'Master, all is right!' 
 My mother, who Avitnessed the scene, said father shouted 
 and praised God for such a victory." 
 
 Soon after this event, he writes: "There are rumors of 
 peace. Lee's army probably surrendered. The Southern 
 cause is lost. Let us betake ourselves to the arts of peace. 
 I may not dwell upon the horrors of this war. I will say, 
 however, that the best bh)od of the South was poured out like 
 water. Boys of fifteen were put in the army. My own dear 
 boy of fifteen went, and received a wound from which he suf- 
 fered to his dying-day. Old men went forth to war. The wom- 
 en gave up every luxury, and returned to the spinning-wlieel 
 and the loom. They took the carpets from their floors and the 
 
lusHor OF TiiK :\r. e. ciiuiicir, south. 149 
 
 curtains from their windows to give to the soldiers. And 
 yet, in two weeks after the prochiniation that the * rebellion 
 was at an end,' all was peace aniong our people. There 
 Avere no armed men; there were no raids. Highway rob- 
 beries were of rare occurrence. Difficulties between the 
 whites and blacks seldom took place. The fight had Ijeen 
 terrible, but now all the good and true men and self-sacri- 
 ficing women were for obedience to the laws and loyalty to 
 the Government." Such was the position at once assumed 
 by Bishop Paine. He counseled forbearance. He urged 
 the practice of kindness to the race just freed from slavery. 
 He inculcated both by precept and example the cultiva- 
 tion of the highest justice and honesty in all dealings be- 
 tween the races. He was strong, and showed himself a 
 man — a noble, true, Christian man — in this hour which 
 tried men's souls. Always conservative, prudent, and cau- 
 tious, he was never more so than-at this important juncture, 
 which threw upon him as one of the leading minds and one 
 of the first men in the South such grave responsibility. 
 
 I shall ever believe that it was owing; to the teachings 
 of such pure, good men as Bishops Paine and Capers, the 
 two Pierces, father and son, and of others of similar char- 
 acter, that during the whole war the whites and negroes 
 at the South lived in such peace. Within less than one 
 hundred miles of Bishop Paine's home the sound of a bugle 
 would reach the ears of five thousand negroes, and the same 
 blast could not be heard by more than fifty white men ; and 
 these white men were mostly aged and infirm, and they, 
 with their homes, wives, and daughters, were entirely in the 
 power of these negroes. Yet no harm befell. In many 
 places large plantations were cultivated entirely by negroes, 
 without the oversight of any white man, and all went on in 
 ])eace and safety. God was in the t(>ac]iiiig of such men as 
 we have named, or rapine and murder would have been the 
 
150 LIFE OF ROBERT FAINE, D.D. 
 
 order of the day. Bishop Paine io the tliird year of his iniD- 
 istry volunteered to go as a missionary to Africa. This he 
 did under the appeals made to him by a negro preacher, as 
 recorded in Bedford's History of Methodism in Kentucky. 
 Before his election as Bishop, he told me that he intended 
 to leave La Grange College and devote himself to the mis- 
 sionary work among the negroes of Mississippi. He always 
 felt the deepest interest in that race. He was the best of 
 masters. He preached to them on every suitable occasion. 
 And now he was rewarded by the perfect good feeling and 
 confidence which existed between the two races during a war 
 waged with terrible severity, not to say relentless cruelty. 
 
 The following abstract of a speech delivered by him in 
 the Methodist church in Aberdeen, Mississippi,' where he 
 lived, at the close of the war, will give additional force to 
 what has been written here of the influence exerted by him 
 in the interests of law and order: 
 
 "We have passed through four years of fierce and bloody 
 war. It is over. The decision has been made by the mili- 
 tary authorities; and I presume I might add with the ad- 
 vice of the civil authorities also, for doubtless they have 
 concurred with the military, though not formally and in 
 their official capacities. ' Our troops have been surrendered, 
 and will all soon be paroled. Our armies, as such, exist no 
 longer. The whole country east of the Mississippi River 
 now resumes its place in the Union. What, then, is the 
 proper course to be pursued by citizens? His own convic- 
 tion on this subject was clear and decided: It is that we 
 should calmly, quietly, and unanimously resume our former 
 l)osition as peaceful citizens, and in good faith enter as such 
 upon the performance of our duties. Our country has cer- 
 tainly suffered enough in all that is dear to us. Thousands 
 of precious lives have been lost, and millions of property 
 destroyed. But let us henceforth turn our thoughts and 
 
BISHOr OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 151 
 
 efforts to the pursuits of life ^vllich are necessary and use- 
 ful. The i)oor, atHicted, and bereaved must be cared for. 
 The education of our chihlren must be provided for. The 
 tendency to demoralization, that invariable concomitant of 
 Avar, must be arrested ; and law, order, and fidelity to every 
 social, civil, and religious duty must be encouraged and sus- 
 tained by us. Let all the soldiers heed the advice and follow 
 the example of their leaders, who have given up the struggle. 
 Let them receive the parole agreed upon, and in good faith 
 lay aside their arms, return to their families and friends, and 
 become useful citizens. Let them not yield to the tempta- 
 tion to carry on a guerrilla warfare, which we have ever re- 
 garded as wrong in principle. Such a warfare, moreover, 
 would result in no good, but bring great and continued dis- 
 tress upon the country and utterly ruin those engaged in 
 it. Finally, having always disapproved of using the pul- 
 pit to discuss political questions in which angry passions are 
 sought to be aroused, he solemnly and deliberately advised 
 his countrymen on the east side of the Mississippi Kiver— 
 and if his voice could be heard, he would thus speak to 
 those on the west side also— to resume in good faith their 
 former positions as law-abiding and peaceful citizens. 
 And in closing my remarks," said Bishop Paine, " I can 
 svith more propriety address my brethren in the ministry 
 ,vho are present, to say to them that I respectfully and 
 earnestly advise them all to use their influence, both pub- 
 licly and privately, for the promotion of peace and quiet- 
 ness among all classes, and especially among the ministers 
 and members of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South." 
 
 These sentiments of the Bishop commend themselves to 
 the approval of all dispassionate and thinking men, and as 
 such we <i;ive them to our readers.'^' 
 
 *T1hs was imMished at the time in an Al)er(leen paper, and fur- 
 nished the author l.y liis daughter, Mrs. Ludie P. Scruggs. 
 
152 LIFE OF ROBEUT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 ti\T 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 Notes of Life" — Seeking for Truth— Dr. Bascom — Polit- 
 ical Issues — President Monroe — Missions Among the In- 
 dians — De Soto. 
 
 niSHOP PAINE, in his "Notes of Life," published after 
 jJ he had attained to four-score years, presents us ^vith 
 many reminiscences and incidents which are vahiable helps 
 in forming an estimate of his character. The painstaking 
 industry and thoughtful application in search of truth, which 
 are so rare, and yet so necessary to decision of character, he 
 exhibits in the following extract : 
 
 "Having been reared under Baptist influence, and edu- 
 cated of late by Presbyterian ministers, I had naturally 
 imbibed Calvinistic views; but while I yielded the uncon- 
 ditional predestination dogma, my immersion sentiment re- 
 mained unchanged for some time. At last I resolved to 
 examine the question prayerfully. It had been in our aca- 
 demic course of study to recite occasionally in the Greek 
 Testament, and this habit of reading some in it daily I con- 
 tinued. I thus began to read the New^ Testament with ref- 
 erence to the Greek, to find out, if possible, from the word 
 of God the mode of baptism, determined to adhere to my 
 mature convictions whatever they might be or wherever 
 ihey might lead me. In doing so I confess I had but little 
 doubt that I could soon i)lace my finger upon the texts which 
 would confirm my belief in immersion as the Bible mode. 
 John baptizing in Jordan came up first. Is the mode of 
 Chrldkui baptism here? If so, is it immersion f I was 
 forced to answer. No, it was not ChriMian baptism, and 
 not necessarily by immersion. The * burial by baptism' 
 
BISHOP OF TIIK M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 153 
 
 was spiritual, and ' unto death,' and does not relate to wa- 
 ter, much less to the mode of baptism. The case of Philip 
 and the eunuch was next exaniined. I had heard going 
 down into and coming out of the water often quoted, ac- 
 companied with gestures of plunging into and lifting up, as 
 illustrating the act of baptizing referred to, but aside from 
 the fact that the Greek prepositions rendered into and out 
 of are equally as susceptible of being translated to and from, 
 they do not at all express the act of baptism — that act took 
 place in the interval between going into and coming out of, 
 for after it is said 'they both went down,'. it is added, 'and 
 he baptized him;' and then 'they came up,' etc. Here 
 again I was disappointed. Going down from the chariot 
 was 2)reparatory to the baptism, and coming up consequent 
 upon it, no matter by what mode it was administered. Thus, 
 to say nothing as to the improbabilities of an immersion in 
 this instance growing out of that part of the Scripture which 
 Philip was explaining, in which the term 'sprinkling' is 
 expressly used, and that the eunuch at once went on his 
 journey, while nothing is even intimated that his whole per- 
 son was submerged, the question. Where is the Bible proof 
 of immersion? became involved in serious doubts. Is the 
 ])ro()f in the case of St, Paul, Cornelius^ Lydia, or the 
 jailer? All these unmistakably point another way. Is it 
 in the Greek word translated, or transferred, baptize f Would 
 the Saviour, after repeatedly using the word hapto, which is 
 translated, correctly too, 'to dip,' lay it aside when he enjoins 
 Christian bai)tism, and then sul)stitute for it haptizo, if ba])- 
 tism can be i)erlbrmed only by dip})ing (esi)ecially if bajt- 
 tizo is not used specifically elsewhere in the New Testament 
 to mean dip)? Why not avoid all misconception and diffi- 
 culty by continuing 1o use the word hapto, which he inva- 
 riably employs to express dip? 
 
 "And of what special inq)<)rtance is tlic mode of baptism 
 
154 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 more tlian that of tlie other great sacrament? Why not 
 attach as much importance to the mode of communicating 
 and receiving the holy eucharist? As the essentials of the 
 latter are bread and wine, a fit recipient, and an authorized 
 administrator, while the quality of the bread and wine and 
 the posture of the receiver are admitted by all to be unes- 
 sential, why is not baptism with water, in the name of the 
 Trinity, administered by an authorized minister to a fit sub- 
 ject, really water baptism, irrespective of quantity of water 
 used or the posture of the subject? Finally, as water bap- 
 tism is a sign or symbol of that baptism of the Holy Spirit 
 by which we are washed and purified internally, and as the 
 antitype, spiritual baptism, is an act of God, described as 
 pouring, is it not proper to follow him, and to baptize as he 
 does, by pouring? Such considerations cleared away the 
 fogs of my early prepossessions, and longer experience and 
 study have only strengthened and satisfied me. Having 
 deliberately concluded to do so, I was thus baptized by 
 Miles Harper, in Franklin, Tenn., November 3, 1817. 
 
 " The process of reasoning which satisfied me as to the bap- 
 tism of children was short and simple. God is King; the 
 Church his kingdom; children have ever been recognized 
 citizens in it. It was so in its organization under the Abra- 
 hamic covenant, which is the gospel covenant, unchanged 
 in essentials and substance — only modified in services — 
 the same King and kingdom. When and by whom were 
 children disfranchised and exiled from the kingdom? 
 Not by Christ, who took them in his arms, and proclaimed 
 'little children' — 'infants' — to be subjects of his kingdom, 
 the Church (Matt. xix. 14). 'Of such is the kingdom of 
 heaven' — i.e., let them come, for my kingdom is of such. 
 Again, 'Except ye be converted and*l)ecome as little chil- 
 dren, ye shall not enter the kingdom of heaven' (Matt, 
 xviii. 3). If adults must become internally like children 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CITURCII, SOUTH. 15f: 
 
 to fit them for citizenship, surely children themselves have 
 an oriirinal, riLrhtful claim to citizenship in it; and as wa- 
 ter baptism is the only full and formal recognition of citi- 
 zenship, they are consequently entitled to it. Did not our 
 Ijord teach Nicodemus that while the internal operation, 
 'born an:ain,' is a requisite 'to see the kingdom of God' 
 (John iii. 3), baptism, or to be born of water as well as 
 of the Spirit, is needful to a formal and full recoj'.nition 
 and entrance into the gospel Church? AVas not all this a 
 reaffirmation and confirmation of the chartered rights and 
 privileges of the beneficiaries of the original covenant with 
 Abraham, 'confirmed before of God in Christ,' which can- 
 not be 'disannulled?' Surely it was not a reversal or re- 
 peal of the original law, and of universal usage under it. 
 Certainly neither the apostles nor their opponents under- 
 stood it so. A change so radical would have been at once 
 denounced by the latter and recorded unequivocally by the 
 evangelists. It could not have been unnoticed. It involved 
 the status of every child. Then many Rachels would have 
 wailed and refused to be comforted. The apostles and 
 early Christians did not understand that Christ had closed 
 the door against these children, and that 'the promise was 
 not to their children,' as well as to them. The fact is that 
 no question of the kind is more certainly established tliau 
 that infant baptism was the prevailing custom of the early 
 and purest period of the Christian Church. I find no evi- 
 dence that the right of children to this ordinance was denied 
 for the first thousand years after Christ. The postponement 
 of baptism from infancy to maturity came with other er- 
 rors," 
 
 Of Henry B. Bascom, a pulpit orator who had no equal 
 in his day, we have an appreciative notice. The time is 
 the second or third year of the young itinerant, and the 
 vividness of the im2:)res6icD made upon his mind by the 
 
156 LIFE OF E0BP:RT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 peerless Bascom is recalled after the lapse of nearly sixty 
 years : 
 
 "As the year advanced the congregations grew larger, and 
 our quarterly and camp meetings were glorious seasons of 
 refreshing. At the camp-meeting held at Thomas's, about 
 ten miles east of Franklin, H. B. Bascom preached to a 
 vast multitude, on Rev. vi. 17: 'For the great day of his 
 wrath is come, and who shall be able to stand?' It was 
 awfully sublime, and for effect I have never seen it sur- 
 passed. The whole congregation unconsciously rose to their 
 feet, and with eyes fixed upon the speaker moved toward 
 the pulpit. The peroration was overwhelming. It was on 
 Sunday afternoon, during the camp-meeting held in the 
 open air, under the wide-spread branches of gigantic trees, 
 and upon an eminence commanding a wide range of view. 
 The sky wore the somber cast of Indian summer ; the sun, 
 seen through the dusky atmosphere, grew larger as it slowly 
 declined to the horizon, becoming lurid and portentous ; not 
 a breath of air disturbed the overhanging boughs; nature 
 seemed in ominous repose, and nothing was heard save the 
 voice of the prince of pulpit orators. Xow in low, solemn, 
 tender tones of suppressed emotion, he pictured the 'great' 
 day, and warned of its 'coming unawares;' and anon, in 
 short, rapid, successive denunciations, like the sharp rattle 
 of a hundred rifles in quick succession, foreshadowing 'the 
 day of his wrath ; ' closing by alluding to the scenic sur- 
 roundings of earth and sky, and the imperative duty of 
 immediate preparation for 'the inevitable hour.' Hun- 
 dreds bowed for prayer, and there was no other preaching 
 until the next day, when he preached on 'Add to your 
 faith,' etc." 
 
 Although Bishop Paine did not suffer himself to be en- 
 tangled with the political discussions and the party strifes 
 of liis day, he was by no means an indifferent spectator in 
 
rsiBiiop OF THE M. E. ciirncir, south. 157 
 
 the mcniorahle strugoles of tlie past. The accuracy of his 
 inforniatiou upon .subjects of political and national history 
 cannot be questroncd. In his "Notes of Life" he says: 
 
 " The year 1819-20 was a menioral)le period. It was such 
 to the country, to the Church, and in luy (.wn pgrsonal his- 
 tory. Politically it was eventful. It marked the opening- 
 of a great strugole, which, like the low muttering of a dis- 
 tant storm, had been occasionally heard by prescient states- 
 man, but now assumed a definite and visible form of a i)or- 
 tentous cyclone, overspreading the fairest and happiest land 
 beneath the sky. I allude to the admission of IVIissouri into 
 the Federal Union by Congress, when for the first time the 
 question of slavery divided the country by a geographical 
 line. The culmination of that storm was the four-years' 
 civil war of 1861-65. The deplorable results of that frat- 
 ricidal struggle are too well known to require repetition or 
 comment. The evils of it are inconceivable, and the re- 
 sponsibility for it must be decided by the only court of sii- 
 preme jurisdiction. If I felt in any degree responsible for 
 it, I think it would craze me. Thank God, I do not ! 
 
 "Among other important events of that period were the 
 promulgation and establishment of the 'Monroe Doctrine' 
 of non-intervention of foreign powers with the South Amer- 
 ican States and Territories ; the right of the Federal Gov- 
 ernment to make internal improvements; the admission of 
 jNIissouri, Mississippi, Illinois, Alabama, and INIaiue into the 
 Union; the cession of Florida (East and West), and adja- 
 cent islands, to the United States by Spain ; and the approval 
 of the act establishing the Bank of the United States by 
 Congress. The discussion of these topics in the Congres- 
 sional and Legislative halls of the United States was like so 
 many volcanic outbursts, threatening the very upheaval 
 and destruction of the i)olitical frame-work of our Govern- 
 ment. Fortunately Congress never was filled by so many 
 
158 LIFE OF ROEEKT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 great men. It was the war of giants. The tremors of that 
 antagonism are not over, but occasionally throb in the body 
 politic. 
 
 "Some of these questions — the first-named especially — 
 were such i^ naturally and almost of necessity produced a 
 great sectional sensation in Church as well as State rela- 
 tions. And thus the most delicate and dangerous of all 
 moral, political, and economic questions, which might pos- 
 sibly have been peacefully and safely adjusted in the calm- 
 ness of fraternal debate by patriotic, Christian statesman- 
 ship, became a wedge in the hands of impassioned partisans 
 and uncompromising fanatics to rend and nearly destroy the 
 boasted fabric of our national Union. The darkest page 
 in Protestant history is that which records the civil war of 
 our States in 1861-65. Great men, like powerful locomo- 
 tives, are dangerous without a corresponding controlling 
 power. An archangel would be a safe custodian of a na- 
 tion, but without purity he would wreck and ruin it. Un- 
 fortunately our statesmen proved unequal to the crisis. 
 
 "To the Church also this Avas an era of unusual impor- 
 tance. Our Methodism, in common with other Protestant 
 denominations, had made gradual and decisive advances in 
 every department of Christian enterprise. Revivals had 
 been extensive, accessions of members unusually great, the 
 number of candidates for the ministry had multiplied, 
 and withal their gifts, grace, and usefulness indicated a 
 higher grade of qualifications. Led and stimulated by her 
 able and consecrated chief pastors and experienced preach- 
 ers, and by the cooperation of laymen, there was a forward 
 movement all along the Church-line. The watchmen had 
 long prayed, and anxiously looked out from their watch- 
 towers; had responded to the cry, 'What of the night?' 
 'The morning cometh, and also the night.' A crisis was at 
 hand, but the promised day had not burst. The yearning 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 159 
 
 lieart and the eye of faith wistfully turned to read in the 
 signs of the times the realization of a brighter era. Heaven 
 had been i)reparing the Church and the world for a great 
 iidvance step. As in the age after Julius Ciesar passed away 
 the temple of Janus was shut, so when Napoleon Bonaparte, 
 M hose character and history strikingly resembled the Roman 
 r.surper, had been dethroned, white-robed peace seemed to 
 have come down to dwell again among the nations. 
 
 " This turbulent spirit, at once the terror of Europe and 
 the pride and scourge of France, having risen from obscu- 
 rity by the combination of extraordinary political events, 
 controlled by a masterful mind, had been chafing like a 
 caged lion, in a lonely island of the ocean since 1815, and 
 the world looked on and breathed free. By the treaty of 
 Ghent England and America had made peace, while Spain 
 and the tribes of Indians upon our fi'ontier had joined us 
 in new treaties of amity. Even theological warriors beat 
 the 'drum ecclesiastic' less long and loud, and Christians, 
 looked into each other's faces, and began to ask if the points 
 in which they could agree were not as many as those about 
 Avhich they differed, and more important. It soon appeared 
 that while the different Protestant denominations had been 
 at war among themselves about the meaning of the Bible as to 
 ' mint, anise, and cummin,' they had neglected the weightier 
 matter of giving the Book itself to the people. In this," at 
 least, they could all unite. In 1816 the American Bible 
 Society was organized, and as was eminently fit and signfi- 
 cant, this precious book became the great basis of Christian 
 union. To print and distribute it in all languages, and put 
 it into the hands of all men, was its acknowledged mission. 
 
 " Up to this date there had been no regular missionaries 
 sent by our people into heathen lands, nor any society among 
 us formed for the purpose. The earth swarmed with l)e- 
 nighted humanity. Even upon our own continent, at out 
 
160 LIFE OF rOBEHT FAIXE, D.D. 
 
 door, and throughout our whole borders, they lived by myr- 
 iads; but until 1820 there had been no efficient organiza- 
 tion of missionary or Sunday-school societies through which 
 the Christian zeal and philanthropy of our Church could 
 operate. But the time had come — the heathen cry for 
 help had been heard, and the response had been quickly 
 and gladly uttered by many, ' Here are ^ve, send us.' Al- 
 most simultaneously these agencies started upon their glo- 
 rious careers. The faithful watchman, who long had waited, 
 cried from his lofty tower, 'Lo, the day breaketh, and the, 
 night is over and gone ! ' ' The clock of ages had struck,' 
 and a new era had begun." 
 
 The field for the sowing of the good seed of the kingdom 
 was widening every year. The restless spirit of the popu- 
 lation in the Eastern and Middle States gave occasion to 
 the land speculators of the time, and they seized it to prac- 
 tice extortion upon the people. Of this swelling stream of 
 immigration, and of the heartless exactions of land monop- 
 olists, he says : 
 
 "After the accession of Mr. Monroe to the Presidency, in 
 1817, a vast amount of fertile land, recently obtained from 
 various Indian tribes, was offered for sale at public auction 
 ])y the Government, especially in the South-western States. 
 -Immigration poured in like a flood — the land speculation 
 mania rose to a high pitch. Capitalists formed associations 
 to purchase extensively and to put down competition. The 
 Mand sales' became scenes of the wildest disorder. The 
 plain and honest immigrant, who came with moderate 
 means to secure a home, found it needful to join a company 
 to prevent being crushed, and even then had been compelle^l 
 to pay a high price for his home, by the grasping speculatoi-s. 
 Mr. Monroe, in a tour of personal observation through the 
 States, visited Huntsville, Ala., after such a scene had oc- 
 curred there, and attended a great public dining given him 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 161 
 
 The occasion wasuniisiial — the personnel of President Mon- 
 roe, his history as a soldier and patriot statesman, and the 
 vast and intelligent concourse present, made it an impressive 
 day. A toast was offered, complimentary to the distin- 
 guished guest and to the Government, closing by allusion to 
 Mie high price for the public land by the people to swell the 
 coffers of the General Government. In reply, the President 
 arose to his feet and gracefully responded to the compli- 
 ment. He was large, finely formed, and of noble mien ; and 
 standing in the midst of the most wealthy, finely dressed, 
 and intelligent crowd which the South could show ; he ap- 
 peared in a blue homespun coat cut in military style of the 
 Revolution, light-colored vest and trousers, and cocked hat. 
 A shade is said to have passed over his face as he closed 
 by saying he had been made sorry by hearing that those 
 who wished for homes for their families had been obliged, 
 by speculators, to pay high prices; that the United States 
 wanted citizens and actual settlers upon her lands, and only 
 required the cost of them. The sentiment was a right one, 
 and some present winced under it. In many cases those 
 who had agreed to pay from twenty to sixty dollars per acre 
 for lands were obliged to forfeit them after they had made 
 one or two annual paynients for them, and were imbittered 
 by having to surrender them to others. In parts of Alabama 
 this was specially the case. The immigrants were generally, 
 however, of the better class of citizens from the Southern 
 Atlantic States, and from Tennessee and Kentucky. They 
 made fine citizens." 
 
 The pioneer in the West and South-west had no sooner 
 built a log-house, and cleared a few acres of land, than the 
 Methodist preacher arrived, to summon him to thoughts of 
 God, heaven, and eternity. The organization of missionary 
 societies Bishoj) Paine has already noticed. In the follow- 
 ing extract he enters into details : 
 
 n 
 
162 IJFE OF. KODERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 " The formation of the first missionary society among the 
 Methodists, to oj^erate among the Indians, occurred in Tusca- 
 loosa, in the spring or early sunnner of 1820. I am now 
 aware that Dr. Bangs had brought this subject to notice in 
 New York about that ])eriod, and that at the General Con- 
 ference held that year it had been ^determined to organize 
 such a society, and that a constitution had been ado})t(Ml 
 and officers appointed — of all which we were profoundly 
 ignorant when the members of our Church, together with 
 the citizens of the community generally, united in the little 
 shanty of the Methodist meeting-house in Tuscaloosa and 
 formed a 'Missionary Association' to Christianize and edu- 
 cate the two large tribes of Indians — Chickasaws and Choc- 
 taws — our immediate neighbors. The lapse of over sixty 
 years has not effaced the remembrance of my feelings when, 
 after all the preliminaries had been finished, the writer was 
 urged by the unanimous vote of the society to visit the 
 Choctaws, to obtain the consent of the chiefs and council to 
 admit missionaries, and if successful, to select a site for a 
 school, nominate a superintendent, and report so soon as 
 possible. All which was done, as heretofore related, while 
 prosecuting this enterprise. After consulting the United 
 States official representative in the Choctaw Nation, and 
 beino; assured of a cordial welcome, and when seekino- a lo- 
 cation for a school, I was taken ill of a malarial fever, and 
 was detained so long, and so enfeebled, that I was obliged 
 to give over the further effort to explore the country. I 
 had, however, the pleasure of reporting to our association 
 that the way was open, and that the vicinity of the 'Six 
 Towns' was by common consent recommended as the best 
 location for the school. I was also authorized to nominate 
 Nicholas T. Sneed as willing to take charge of it if the soci- 
 ety and the Conference would go promptly into it. 
 
 " Why this attempt to send the blessed gospel with its train 
 
RTSITOr OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 163 
 
 of civil, social, and reliuioiis influences was not carried for- 
 ward at once, I know not. ]*]arly in thv Ihll I left the coun- 
 try to attend the Tennessee Conference. Hearn, Renau, 
 and Bneed fell into the INIississippi Conference, and by the 
 act of the General Conference that whole section of country 
 was attached to the Mississippi Conference. 
 
 "A few years later, through the labors of the Conference 
 missionaries — the Talleys especially — an extraordinary re- 
 vival occurred in that tribe. Hersey and the Presbyterian 
 ]\Iission had prepared the way, while Folsom, Le Flore, and 
 other Choctaw chiefs, w'ere instrumental in a glorious work 
 of moral and religious benefit to the whole Nation. 
 
 "It is not surprising that ethnology, the science which 
 treats of the difterent races of men, should be an interesting 
 subject to an intelligent people; for while obscurity rests like 
 a cloud over the origin and primeval history of nearly all 
 nations, it is natural to desire to know^ as much as possible 
 of our ancestry. What labor and expense have been de- 
 voted to this subject in unraveling the mysteries of African, 
 Egyptian, Grecian, and Roman antiquities! The more 
 cultured a people become, the more interest they take in 
 their early history. A thoroughly barbarous people are 
 utterly indifferent to such topics. May not such thoughts 
 suggest sufiicient apology for some remarks upon the history 
 of the great tribes contiguous to my circuit ? 
 
 "The Chickasaws and Choctaws were evidently of the 
 same stock — their similarity in language, j^ersonal appear- 
 ance, customs, and traditions clearly demonstrating this fact. 
 They, like most of the* red race in the United States, claim 
 to have migrated fi^om the North-west; and while other 
 tribes, who hold themselves to be of North-western origin, 
 affirm that their ancestors continued to travel eastward to 
 the Atlantic slope, these tribes believe their fiithers, after 
 crossing the Mississippi Iliver, turned south-west and settled 
 
1()4 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 where authentic history found them several centuries ago. 
 The Cherokees and IMuscogees, or Creeks, have substantially 
 the same tradition. Naturalists say they belong to the 
 great ^Appalachian' family of Indians. The Appalachian, 
 * the long or endless mountain,' M'as the name given by De 
 Soto and early Spanish authorities to the great range of 
 mountains, including its plateaus and parallel ridges, which, 
 leaving Canada, passed through Vermont, New York, Penn- 
 sylvania, and on southerly, diverging from the Atlantic 
 coast -line, and subsiding in Georgia and Alabama, and 
 abounding (throughout its whole extent generally) in coal, 
 iron, and other minerals. The south-western extremity of 
 this range reaches into North Mississippi, separating the 
 tributaries of the Mississippi from those that fall into the 
 Bay of Mobile. The English called it the Alleghany range, 
 but De Soto and the Spanish discoverers, the Appalachian. 
 Other names have been given to certain parts of it, as 
 'Blue Eidge,' 'Cumberland,' etc., but Appalachian was 
 probably its earliest name for the Avhole range. Geology 
 indicates that the larger part of it was of earlier date than 
 tlie Andes or Alps. Over a great part of this territory, es- 
 pecially the southern, the mysterious old Natchez race, the 
 Cherokees, Creeks, and their associate tribes, were found 
 when the whole race invaded that region, and hence the 
 pountry gave the name to its inhabitants. How the tribes 
 , change their locations is illustrated by the Delawares, Shaw- 
 'lees, and others, once residing on the Atlantic slope, but now 
 <n Kansas and the North-west ; and to what extent the tribes 
 have mixed is indicated by the facts that Tecumseh's mother 
 was a Creek, while he and his brother — the Prophet — w'ere 
 Shawnees, and were found on the borders of Canada in the 
 war of 1812. The Choctaws and Chickasaws were less mi- 
 gratory in disposition tlian usual with the other tribes; for 
 while it is said they descended from two brothers, and have 
 
BISHOP OF TIIK M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 165 
 
 always lived close together, they have retained their sepa- 
 rate tribal and political distinctions to a remarkable degree. 
 Even the tierce savage wars which on several occasi(nis have 
 burst forth between them have ceased as suddenly as they 
 began. About equal in population, in intellectual culture, 
 and in industrial improvements, they have respected each oth- 
 er's rights as good neighbors and true friends; and when it 
 has been otherwise, the fault has been in the whites. Hav- 
 ing visited them while living here, and repeatedly in their 
 new homes west of the Mlsyissippi, I gladly testify that this 
 applies to them now. 
 
 " The first authentic account we have of these two great 
 tribes is their invasion by Fernando De Soto. This very 
 remarkable man had distinguished himself as a Spanish cav- 
 alier under Pizarro, in the conquest of Peru, about the time 
 of Luther's appearance, in obedience to the command of 
 Charles V., before the ' Diet of Worms.' Having returned 
 to Spain loaded with the spoils of that infamous war, he 
 asked and obtained the royal consent to organize an army 
 and a fleet to return to America as commander-in-chief, and 
 invade and attach to the Kingdom of Spain the far-famed 
 Florida. Having married the beautiful Bobadilla, daughter 
 of a royal favorite, and collected a large force of the most 
 gallant spirits in Spain, he set sail, with the knights and 
 some of their wives, to rendezvous at the Island of- Cuba. 
 There he left the ladies and proceeded in full force to Tampa 
 Bay where he landed. May 80, 1539. This was the largest 
 and most formidable army that had ever invaded the con- 
 tinent. From the time he burned his transports, and thus 
 cut off all means of returning to Spain, his conduct admits 
 of no exiilanation but that he was seeking to find Ponce de 
 Leon's imaginary Fountain of Health, or the fabulous El 
 Dorado gold and diamond mines. Hence he spent some time 
 iu exploring Florida; thence into Georgia; thence, turning 
 
166 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 south-west, he struck the Alabama River, and had a te'Til)le 
 battle with the Indian fort situated on the river and under 
 the noted chief Tuscaloosa. The Spaniards call it Mau- 
 villa ; it is described as being on the north bank of the Ala- 
 bama River, and about twenty-five miles above its junction 
 with the Tombigbee. Passing up tlie latter, he is said to 
 have crossed the Black Warrior near where Erie now stands, 
 after a fierce battle of two days with the Choctaws. Con- 
 tinuing his course, Picket and others say, De Soto crossed the 
 Bigbee — or Little Tombigbee — near Waverly, in Lowndes 
 county, Miss., not far below the mouth of the Buttahatchie, 
 and took the buffalo trail up the prairie region. The 
 Tibbee, being the line between the Choctaws and Chick- 
 asaws, enters the Bigbee just below where he crossed it ; his 
 way henceforth was among the latter tribe, and not far 
 from the present Mobile and Ohio railroad. This level and 
 beautiful prairie, running north for forty miles along a well- 
 beaten buftalo trail, was the best possible way for his artil- 
 lery and stock ; and upon reaching the neighborhood of the 
 Chickasaw 'Council House,' not far from the Pontotoc 
 ridge, he went into winter-quarters. The place of encamp- 
 ment was fertile, near the largest village in the Nation, and 
 in the most populous part — abounding in maize and other 
 valuable products. The Spaniards were not likely to fore- 
 go the use of these advantages, and the Indians feared to 
 resent it." 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. K. CHI liCII, SOUTH. 167 
 
 CH A PTER XXIX. 
 
 "Notes of Life" Continued — The "Vexed Question" — Pre- 
 siding Elder Controversy — Change of Conference 
 Lines — Sectarianism — Divorce — Divining Rod — Religious 
 Controversy — James W. Fariss. 
 
 THE influence of the political agitation which ended in 
 the "Missouri Compromise" was felt in the religious 
 assemblies of the people. The intensity of conviction 
 which causes good men to make war against a supposed 
 evil sometimes gains its ends at the cost of Christian char- 
 ity. The price is too much to pay for any human suc- 
 cess. One instance of peace and quiet obtained by unwor- 
 thy means is valuable as an indication of the resources of 
 Divine Providence in the affairs of men : 
 
 "This Conference, like that immediately preceding it, was 
 held in Nashville, Tennessee, and began about October 1, 
 1819. Nor did it differ materially in its tone and temper 
 from it. If it did it was in its intensity of opposition to the 
 bestowment of orders and offices upon slave-holders, and 
 those suspected of sympathizing with them. To such a de- 
 gree was this carried that, however worthy and well quali- 
 fied in other respects for admission on trial or for ordination 
 as local or traveling preachers a candidate might be, he was 
 sure to be rejected if connected witli the great evil. It 
 mattered not though the State laws forbade it, or any thing 
 else rendered it improper or impractica])le. The question 
 was not whether slavery was an evil, but how to remedy it. 
 Both admitted that it was a social and })()litical evil, and in 
 many ca^es a moral evil, but the South generally claimed 
 
168 LIFE OF FvOBEKT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 that it was not evil per se, but an evil inherited — the only 
 proper remedy for it being a gradual emancipation under 
 the sanction of legislation, after due notice and preparation. 
 So stringently was the opinion of the ultraists carried out 
 by the majority at this session that a large and able minor- 
 ity felt constrained to sign a ^^rotest against their action and 
 forward it to the General Conference, to meet the next year. 
 They were T. L. Douglass, W, McMahon, Lewis Garrett, 
 T. D. Porter, Barnabas McHenry, Wm. Stribling, John 
 Johnson, Thos. Stringfield, Henry B. Bascom, Benjamin 
 Edoje, and others. Of course none of them Avere elected to 
 the General Conference. One thing that served to indicate 
 the unfortunate partisan feeling which pervaded the whole 
 action of the majority in this affair was that under their 
 influence at the General Conference, May, 1820, the Ten- 
 nessee Conference was divided so as to bring the Kentucky 
 line to the Cumberland River at Nashville, and just below 
 there across the river, and thence west, thus throwing sev- 
 eral circuits and a large territory out of its proper relation. 
 By this process the new Conference was larger and far more 
 compact and desirable than the other, leaving the old Ten- 
 nessee Conference a long, narrow strip, reaching from the 
 Alleghany Mountains to the Mississippi River, with only 
 four small districts; two of these lay east of the Cumber- 
 land Mountain. Of course all the delegates, except one or 
 two who got presiding elderships, fell into the new Confer- 
 ence. This kind of ecclesiastical gerrymandering appeared 
 wrong to some of us, and I set myself against it henceforth. 
 The result, however, was, we had peace afterward." 
 
 The agitation which began with James O'Kelly, as far 
 back as 1790 or 1791, continued, with disastrous results in 
 many sections of the country, for more than thirty years. 
 At first, Mr. O'Kelly desired that the preacher appointed 
 by a Bishop might have an appeal to the Annual Confei- 
 
BISHOP OF TIIK M. E. CnrKCII, HOUTH. 1G9 
 
 ence, wliose decision should be final. Failing to overtlirow 
 Methodist episcopacy by this measure, the next proposition 
 was a very plausible one, but not less revolutionary in its 
 character. As the Bishops could not know the wants and 
 necessities of every station or circuit, and the capacities and 
 abilities of the preachers must be, in a large measure, un- 
 known to the responsible power appointing the pastors of 
 the flock, it was proposed to make the presiding elder an 
 elective officer. The Bishop naming two or more members 
 of the body, the Conference decided by vote which of 
 these should be a member of the " Bishop's Council." This 
 measure seemed harmless to many, but the keen eye of 
 Joshua Soule saw in it the enterino; wedo-e for the destruc- 
 tion of the whole economy of Methodism. In this view of 
 the subject Bishop McKendree concurred, and the firm, 
 heroic conduct of these two men preserved the constitution 
 of the Church. 
 
 "The third delegated General Conference of our Church 
 began May 1, 1820, in Baltimore, Maryland, and was dis- 
 tinguished by several important events. Robert R. Roberts 
 and Enoch George had been elected and consecrated Bish- 
 ops at the previous 'General Conference in 1816, as Willian^ 
 McKendree had been at the first, held in John Street, New- 
 York, in 1812. 
 
 "The decease of Bishop Asbury, in 1816, and the infirm 
 health of Bishop McKendree, had devolved too much labor 
 upon the Bishops, and it was determined to elect another. 
 Joshua Soule was duly announced as elected, and the time 
 and place of consecration were agreed upon. In the mean- 
 time the Conference had adopted a series of resolutions 
 making the presiding elders elective, and constituting them, 
 by law, a council, who, conjointly with the Bishop presid- 
 ing in the Annual Conference, should station the preach- 
 ers. After mature deliberation and consultation, the senior 
 
170 LIFE OF K013EKT I'AINF, D.D. 
 
 Bishop, McKeudree, concluded that the delegated General 
 Conference exceeded it.s authority in conferring the power 
 of selecting the presiding elders, with the right of fixing 
 the appointments, and thus to this extent controlling the 
 action and superseding the power of the episcopacy, who 
 alone are responsible for the administration of the disci- 
 ])line. Furthermore, that such interference with the right- 
 fid authority of the Bishops was an infringement of the con- 
 stitution of the Church, as set forth in the restrictions im- 
 posed by the convention on the powers and privileges of 
 the delegated General Conference in its organization in 
 1808. 
 
 " From the organization of the Church there had been 
 some in every session of the General Conference in favor of 
 restraining or abolishing the power of the Bishops in sta- 
 tioning the preachers and choosing the presiding elders; 
 but there had always been a decided majority against them. 
 In 1812 this majority had been much smaller. In 1820, 
 after considerable discussion, the subject was referred to a 
 committee of three from each side to confer with the Bish- 
 oj)S, and report. At the first meeting of the Bishops and 
 c(>mmittee they failed to agree. At the next meeting a 
 similar result was likely to occur, but upon verbal expla- 
 nations as to the import of the 'compromise' measures 
 proposed, and from a great anxiety for peace, a plan was 
 presented and accepted to quiet all parties. 
 
 " For reasons already stated, and others strongly set forth 
 by the senior Bishop and the Bishop elect, the latter declined 
 to be ordained. Several members of the committee, u])on 
 more careful examination of the report, withdrew their sig- 
 natures, and the resolutions w^ere suspended until tlie next 
 (juadrennial session. Of course these resolutions came uj) 
 ill 1824, when they were indefinitely suspended. In 1828 
 tiie kindred question of lay representation received its 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHUKCH, SOUTH. 171 
 
 quietus by adopting the report of Dr. J. Emory, chairman 
 of the committee on that subject. Thus the two principal 
 elements of trouble ^vere apparently, and I trust really 
 and forever, consiijjned to rei)ose, except in such a constitu- 
 tional and peaceable way as the interest of the whole Church 
 may require modification." 
 
 Errors in legislation ought always to be corrected by the 
 authority that committed the errors. Resistance to law, how- 
 ever unjust the law may be, need not be resorted to, when 
 good men, and Christian men, hold the reins of government. 
 An illustration of the prevalence of reason over passion is 
 furnished in the following paragraph : 
 
 "It was scarcely possible for the delegation from the 
 Tennessee Conference to the General Conference of 1820 to 
 escape the suspicion of unfairness in the division of the work 
 between the Tennessee and Kentucky Conferences, since all 
 the prominent men elected belonged to one party, and fell 
 into pretty much the same region. It is a good old saying 
 that no man is a fair judge in his own case. Our personal 
 interests warp our judgment. It was thought to be so in 
 this instance. A list of the appointments and a map of the 
 country show this, as to this point. Yet good men and 
 true did it. The dividing line — an ecclesiastical isothermal 
 Que — while it left Nashville, with a few miles above and be- 
 low, in the Tennessee Conference, scooped down south of the 
 Cumberland River on both sides of Nashville, leaving the 
 old Conference, as it was called, a ' shoe-string affair.' So 
 strong and general was the opinion that this was unfair 
 that the next session — 1824 — corrected it at once." 
 
 In the early days there were not a few " men of high de- 
 gree" who affected a sublime contempt for ^Methodism and 
 I^Iethodist preachers. An amusing instance of this unseemly 
 pride is related by the Bislio]) : 
 
 " ]My appointment for 1820-21 was to Murfrcesboro and 
 
172 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 Shelbyville, tAvo flourishing towns about thii'ty miles ti}){irt, 
 and seats of justice for two of the most populous and pro- 
 ductive counties of the State. Each had a population of 
 about two thousand, with large public buildings, but in 
 neither was there any Methodist meeting-house. In each 
 there was a Presbyterian Church, and regular preaching by 
 the same pastor, avIio lived in Muifrecsboro, and served them 
 alternately. He was a venerable minister, a witty, incisive 
 character, wdiose influence was felt by his people and the 
 community. His Calvinism was of the Hopkinsian type. 
 He regarded himself as liberal toward other denominations, 
 but had enjoyed a monopoly of clerical honors and perqui- 
 sites in that community so long that he felt almost instinct- 
 ively that any other pastor there was an intrusion. It Avas 
 a long time after I had begun my Avork before he professed 
 to have heard of me. I held service of nights in a large 
 unoccupied old house, and preached in the court-house on 
 Sunday. A great revival had occurred during the summer 
 before I arrived, and hundreds had professed conversion at 
 WindroAv's and other camp - meetings. Many joined our 
 Church, and the excitement continued at our meetings in 
 the toAvns under my pastoral charge. The number and the 
 class of attendants and professors were such that it Avould 
 not do to ignore the Avork, or the 'Methodist circuit-rider,' 
 any longer. A \^ery formal visit A\^as paid me — a short, pat- 
 ronizing talk was delivered, Avith suggestions as to a change 
 of the time of holding my meetings. He had for several 
 years past discontinued night services, except on special oc- 
 casions — doubted if a conflict of appointments at eleven 
 o'clock on Sunday Avas best. That had been his hour so long 
 it could not be changed. Of course upon sacramental occa- 
 sions land my members Avould attend, although he Avas never 
 seen in our meetings. Union is beautiful. Was in favor of 
 revivals, but rarely failed to ridicule them, unless some of 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CllUIlCir, SOUTH. 173 
 
 liis ehlei-s, whose children had hitely joined the Methodists, 
 were present. Yoiini>: as I was, I was not so green as he 
 thought. He was a good man, but intensely sectarian." 
 
 One of those questions which concern the very existence 
 of society receives the following notice at the hands of the 
 Bishop: 
 
 " Murfreesboro was then the seat of the Legislature, and 
 the court-house, which was my place for preaching, was also 
 the place where the Legislature held its sessions. Both the 
 Senate and the House invited me to act as chaplain, and I 
 therefore continued to use it as a church during the whole 
 time. It was during one of these years that a very large 
 number of petitions for divorce was presented. Among the 
 rest, and at the heading of the list, was one from the ex- 
 Governor of the State — Mims, I believe. The Speaker of 
 the House, Sterling Brewer, was a prominent Methodist — a 
 number of the members of both houses had professed re- 
 ligion during a revival at that session, Felix Grundy among 
 them. The Assembly 'conscientiously hesitated to take up 
 the question of divorce, and the Speaker addressed me, by 
 request of the body, to preach expressly upon the subject, 
 and I could not refuse to do so. Tavo or three days before 
 the time for preaching upon the subject came, the reverend 
 and venerable Valentine Cook, of Kentucky, arrived in the 
 town, and at my solicitation, and the concurrence of the 
 Assembly, became my substitute. Never did that singularly 
 powerful preacher appear to greater advantage. Taking 
 the New Testament stand-point, and explaining it clearly 
 and fully, he viewed the question in its various bearings, 
 and closed with an earnest protest against all divorces out- 
 side of the sanction of the great Lawgiver. The whole 
 batch of petitions was 'non-concurred in,' and I think that 
 in Tennessee that question has been ever since relegated to 
 the courts. The result has been, each case has been tried 
 
174 LtFE OF ROBERT RAINE, D.D. 
 
 upon its merits, a few divorces granted, and a higher esti- 
 mate stamped upon the public mind of the sanctity of the 
 marriage contract, while the time and money of the JState 
 have been saved for better purj^oses." ^ 
 
 AhN-^ys and everywhere a student of natural science. 
 Bishop Paine in his early manhood had opportunities for 
 contrasting the revelations of true science with the preten- 
 sions and delusions of charlatans. About the truth of the 
 "divining rod" as a revealer of mineral deposits, he pro- 
 nounces a definite opinion, and relates an incident which 
 carries its own moral : 
 
 " Having just now mentioned two names, Valentine Cook 
 and Sterling Brewer, an incident which occurred five years 
 later is vividly recalled in unrolling that wonderful volume 
 called Memory. I was then the presiding elder of the Nash- 
 ville District, and the guest, for a day, of my friend Brewer. 
 He was no longer ' the Speaker ' of the House — had been a 
 rich man, having a large and valuable farm, with many 
 slaves, several valuable houses, lols, etc., in towns, and 
 withal a liberal and consistent Church-member. No man in 
 Dickson county was more respected. His wife and family 
 were worthy such a head. In the midst of his prospei'ous 
 and happy surroundings a stranger obtruded, and after gain- 
 ing the confidence of his host, uncovered his pretensions as 
 a mineralogist, and avowed his ability to find metals an I 
 salt-water by the 'divining rod.' Every day he might be 
 found slowly and silently walking through the forests in the 
 vicinity of Brewer's house. My friend was noted for his 
 sound, practical sense — a man of affairs, Speaker in tlie 
 Legislature twenty years, and heretofore successful in all he 
 had undertaken — apparently the last man to be the victim 
 of superstition or imposture. I believe the element of su- 
 perstition is, to soma degree, in every man. It was in 
 Brewer. Salt develo})ed it. Gradually his strange visitor, 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. ("iiURrir, SOUTH. 175 
 
 by hints and \Yinks, revealed the secret that there was a 
 mint of ^vealth oif his h\nd in salt-water streams, which con- 
 verged and made a big stream on tlie hind of Brewer. Se- 
 crecy was enjoined, and a promise to find it shortly after a 
 visit to his family was given. With perhaps a small ad- 
 vance of money to pay traveling expenses and procure some 
 necessary utensils, etc.. Brewer followed his friend as he took 
 the meandering streams over hills and valleys, found the 
 point where they met, and where it was declared the largest 
 amount of salt-water could be found that was ever known in 
 the South-w^est. Brewer marked the track of these mysteri- 
 ous streams, and kept the secret for some time. He was not 
 yet converted. He got an old settler, who had figured on 
 that line years ago, to walk over his land ; without knowing 
 it, this man confirmed the statement of the first one. This 
 shook the solid frame-work of Brewer's mind. Salt was in 
 great demand. None to be had this side of West Virginia ; 
 if by a reasonable outlay he could settle the question, why 
 not try it? Just then he learned that Valentine Cook, Pres- 
 ident of the Methodist College in Kentucky, under the au- 
 spices of Asbury — distinguished for learning, piety, and use- 
 fulness — was an expert in chemistry, electricity, and kindred 
 subjects, and believed in the ' divining rod.' He was invited 
 4() visit Brewer and give his opinion. He came, and, ignorant 
 of what the others had done, struck and followed to their junc- 
 tion the streams, and said he believed that at that place 
 there was mineral-water — at what depth and to what amount 
 it might be, he could not say; he believed there was salt 
 there. Brewer had begun to dig; he soon struck a hard 
 crystalline limestone bed, and afler three years' boring — 
 reaching several hundred feet — his auger broke; his farm 
 had gone to waste, his stores and other real estate had been 
 mortgaged, his slaves sold, and in a few years I buried him 
 from a humble rented house in Nashville. A Christian 
 
176 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 gentleman to the last — his memory honored, his surviving 
 family respected, and his large estate bankrupt, or buried in 
 the deep hole the 'divining rod' had dug. Standing with 
 him at the fatal place, I learned these facts from him ; and 
 when I asked him if in those seven years of ceaseless toil 
 and anxiety he had come across any mineral-water of any 
 kind, he replied : ' We thought we found a brackish taste 
 once, after having bored more than three hundred feet of 
 solid rock — the whole work was in the same hardest crys- 
 tallized limestone. We were every day hoping to find salt, 
 and never did; desperation followed this fascination, when 
 the auger broke near the bottom at the depth of about one 
 thousand feet, and all my means were exhausted.' What a 
 pity it seems that some intelligent mineralogist or geologist 
 did not tell him that, although salt is more widely distrib- 
 uted than any other mineral, because it is the only mineral 
 universally needed by animals of the highest order, yet its 
 true geological position is not in such a locality. In ten 
 minutes he could have learned at Vanderbilt that it w as use- 
 less to exi3end his life and fortune in the effort. 
 
 " For hundreds of years the agents and the principles in- 
 volved in the 'divining rod' have attracted attention; the 
 wise and educated, as well as the simple and superstitious, 
 have been excited about it. The phenomena claimed for it 
 have been attributed to electricity and magnetism, or as 
 wholly imaginary self-deception, while others hold it all to 
 be a bald imposture. Nobody has sought to dignify it by 
 claiming it as a science. It is not sufficiently sustained by 
 facts. Like clairvoyance and mesmerism, but not so strong- 
 ly supported ; feeble as is their support, there may be some- 
 thing in it, but who knows how much, or what there is of 
 importance to our race? The key to unlock many of nat- 
 ure's secrets has not yet been discovered." 
 
 Writing in the retirement of his own delightful home. 
 
BTSHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 177 
 
 aiul recalliiii^, at the age of eighty-ono, the scenes and inci- 
 dents of his early career, Bishoj) Paine records his views 
 upon the subject of religious controversy: 
 
 "Controversy — religious controversy especially — is gener- 
 ally unpopular at present, and whoever engages in it is like- 
 ly to be discounted. The world calls it quarreling, and 
 most members of the Church prefer peace upon any terms 
 to public discussion upon doctrinal points. Indeed, many 
 who belong to the various denominations attach very little 
 importance to creeds. And while the temper which prompts 
 this is to a great extent highly commendable, it is to be feared 
 that the underlying feeling is too often ignorance or indif- 
 ference. The most intellige'nt and earnest minds hold the 
 truth in the highest estimation, and are foremost in its de- 
 fense. Biblical truths are of the highest importance, because 
 they reveal the purpose of our existence and the method of 
 attaining it. To apprehend the one and follow the other is 
 therefore preeminently our first duty. Too many, like Pi- 
 late, ask in a querulous sj^irit, 'What is truth?' and like 
 him, without waiting or wishing for an answer, immediately 
 turn round to resume the work of detraction. But while 
 we advocate both the right and duty to discuss publicly the 
 fundamental doctrines and institutes of Christianity, we as 
 decisively oppose all personalities, bitterness, and sectarian- 
 ism as unbecoming the pulpit and the cause. The fact that 
 the speaker has a monopoly, and cannot be replied to with- 
 out an apparent discourtesy, should restrain him. When- 
 ever any thing but truth becomes the object, the pulpit is 
 perverted. The discussion may be earnest, but it must' be 
 respectful. A coarse anecdote, a rude personality, or a 
 ringing laugh do not pass for logic or scripture in this 
 court. While we gladly recognize and appreciate the fact 
 that IMethodism owes its origin and its early trium})hs not 
 to its formularies as to its polity or its creed, but to its 
 
178 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 spiritual elements, yet if it had not been so ably defined 
 and defended by Wesley, Fletcher, and others, as a consist- 
 ent and scriptural analysis of Bible doctrines, it would not 
 have won its way so rapidly, and harmonized and crystal- 
 lized its disciples into one great homogeneous body. What 
 was urged by the friends of the great Duke of Marlborough, 
 in pleading that his life be spared, 'He had fought a hun- 
 dred pitched battles for England, and not one against her,' 
 may be repeated for Wesley and his associates in contend- 
 ing for ' religion pure and undefiled,' Throughout his long 
 life he fought for God and truth. The weapons of his war- 
 fare were not carnal. He held the truth as it is in Jesus, 
 and gathered his implements from the sacred armory. It 
 was easier to refute his logic than to ruffle his temper. 
 Either w as rarely done, although both were often attempt- 
 ed. Christian polemics finds its brightest exemplars in the 
 writings of Wesley and Fletcher. The latter combined the 
 genius of Pascal and Junius, but surpassed the former in 
 suavity and the latter in ingenuous incisiveness. The adop- 
 tion of their writings as text-books in the course of study by 
 our fathers provided a literature scarcely less important than 
 the hymnology in which scriptural doctrines were crystal- 
 lized into sacred song by the poetic genius of the Wesleys. 
 As occasion required, others who were 'set for the defense 
 of the gospel' have come to confront teachers of erroneous 
 and strange doctrines. 
 
 "Many years ago, while engaged in making appointments, 
 I found my advisers hesitating to nominate a preacher for a 
 certain populous community, and after awhile asked the rea- 
 son. The reply was that it was a people so generally and 
 decidedly under the influence of another doctrinal belief 
 that it had been thought best to attempt but little there for 
 awhile, and that it would be a pity to send them a very 
 l)romising young minister — it looked like sacrificing too 
 
BISIIOr OF THE M. K. CIIURCII, SOUTH. 170 
 
 much. Tliis course had been pursued several years. To 
 this view I demurred, and asked my jiresiding elders how 
 that people were i!;etting on, moi-ally and religiously. ' Very 
 badly — liom bad to worse — no signs of improvement.' Do 
 y<Hi really believe their teachers are in serious error, and 
 that i\Iethodist teachings are right and are needed there, 
 and that you have among you preachers who are fully com- 
 petent, or can make themselves competent, to defend our 
 doctrines and customs against all opponents? They an- 
 swered affirmatively. I then made an appointment, and 
 enjoined it upon them to select their best young men, and 
 to induce them to prepare for the defense, and in the spirit 
 of love to enter the lists whenever challenged. I have 
 learned that they have done so, and a decided change of the 
 situation has occurred. In the early years of my acquaint- 
 ance with Methodism, her creed was bitterly opposed and 
 her ministers derided. Every other denomination seemed 
 united in opposing it, however disagreeing among them- 
 selves. Calvinism, in some form or other, was dominant, 
 and Methodism Avas the target at which they all pointed 
 their artillery. 
 
 "A controlling influence was persistently sought over the 
 jiublic literary institutions of the country; and they had 
 almost a monopoly of them. Hence almost all the men 
 who attained eminence in political and professional circles 
 were disinclined toward our Church, and so strong and gen- 
 eral was this influence that our children were often ashamed 
 of being known as of Methodist parentage, and in many 
 cases w^ere alienated for life from our Church. A sense of 
 duty, therefore, impelled our preachers to begin the defense 
 of our doctrines and polity from the pulpit and press, and 
 by patronizing schools and colleges of our own. By our 
 love fin' our children, our regard for truth, and the highest 
 and holiest claims of piety and i)hilanthropy, we were con- 
 
180 LIFE OF PvO.iERT FATXE, D.D. 
 
 strained to enter upon the strufrgle, and to continue it in every 
 fair and Christian way. In vain have the schools founded and 
 sustained by the liberality of our members and friends been 
 stio^matized as sectarian in contradistinction to those created 
 and supported by county and State taxation ; intelligent and 
 impartial men cannot appreciate the logic by which the name 
 of a thing changes its character, nor how it comes to pass 
 that a Methodist who is taxed to support a public school 
 where Calviuistic influence dominates may not also pay 
 voluntarily for one where no such adverse influence exists, 
 without being branded as sectarian. Doubtless competent 
 flnd faithful teachers do exert influence over their pupils, 
 and while no unfair means of proselytism are used it is not 
 seriously objectionable — it is the natural result of the rela* 
 tion of the parties, and the teacher's merits are the measure 
 of his controlling power." 
 
 A life-like picture of one of the early heroes of Method- 
 ism is given by the Bishop in the following extract from 
 the "Notes of Life:" 
 
 "James W. Fariss was a notable character, with whom I 
 formed an acquaintance this year. He belonged to a large 
 family of sturdy citizens, most of whom were Methodists, 
 residing near Winchester, Tenn. He was then about thirty 
 years old, was a farmer, had been lately licensed as a local 
 preacher, and had a wife with several children. His jjhysique 
 was striking — six feet high, broad-chested, an athlete in form 
 and prowess, with a long aquiline nose, Grecian profile, and 
 large gray, dreamy eyes. He was retiring and reticent, and 
 seemed to be meditative and sad. Nature had made him of 
 her finest mold, and stamped him with the signet for a poet 
 and an orator. He was born such, but sadly marre<I in his 
 making up. Under other circumstances he might have been 
 a Burns or a Goldsmith. He could not help being an ora- 
 tor. Before he fairly grew to manhood, and before his con- 
 
BISHOP OF Tin: m. e. church, south. 181 
 
 version, he was devoted to fun and frolic, to the violin and 
 dancing. He Avas tlie leader on all such occasions. But a 
 chani^e came over the sjiirit of his dreams. AVhile I never 
 heard it reported that he indulged in low and vulgar hab- 
 its — from all which his sincere love for his pious wife and 
 little children saved him — yet residing near a town where 
 his genial social qualities and his musical talents, ready wit, 
 and pleasant manners rendered his presence desirable on all 
 festive occasions, his associates sadly missed his companion- 
 ship ; insomuch that when he awoke from the delirium of 
 carnal anmsements, he at once resolved to rid himself of 
 all the allurements of his surroundings. With the simple 
 statement to his wife that he was, as he feared, a lost man, 
 lie took a Bible and left home. In a recess or cave of the 
 mountain it is said he hid himself, and there in solitude, like 
 Jacob, he wrestled with God. There he thought, read his 
 Bible, wept over his sins, and again and again poured out 
 his soul in importunate prayer, having resolved not to desist 
 or return until the great question was settled. How long 
 he staid I know not ; I think several days. His family and 
 friends became alarmed, and searched for him in vain. A 
 report got out that he had become insane. His old com- 
 panions could not understand it otherwise. No doubt the 
 retirement of Jacob on the memorable night of his conver- 
 sion seemed unnatural and unaccountable to his family and 
 attendants ; but he knew what he was doing, and it was the 
 crisis in his history, and the wisest act of his eventful life. 
 Like Jacob, he struggled with 'the angel' until he tri- 
 umphed, and could say, 'I know thee, Saviour, whom thou 
 art;' and then went down the mountain to spend the re- 
 mainder of his life in telling to others the wonders of re- 
 deeming love. His conversion produced a ])rofound sensa- 
 tion throughout the country, and his dei)ortnient, at once 
 so humble, zealous, and consistent, gave great force to hi;' 
 
182 LIFE OF R0BP:RT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 efforts to do good. Sood after this great change he joined 
 the Church, and in due time Avas licensed to preach. Ar- 
 ranging his temporal interests, he entered the traveling con- 
 nection, and after many years of toil and sacrifice, died in 
 the Western District of Tennessee, lamented and loved by 
 thousands. 
 
 " I have said he was a natural orator, ^vith a meditative 
 and rather melancholy .cast of mind, and a deeply devoted 
 Christian. There were days when he seemed absorbed and" 
 disinclined to mix in society. He would perform his duties 
 and retire, or remain silent. He prayed much in secret. He 
 was not rude or unapproachable; in his family always gen- 
 tle and forbearing. To guile, envy, and malevolence he was 
 a stranger. He loved God and all men. In his preaching 
 he was irregular, sometimes commonplace, generally enter- 
 taining and attractive, and occasionally almost resistless. 
 He had all the qualities and endowments of a great orator, 
 except those resulting from mental culture. His fancy was 
 fine ; his imagination of the highest order ; his illustrations 
 were strikingly natural and apt ; his voice, like his touches 
 ou his favorite violin, of which he was once confessedly a 
 tliorough master, was of great compass, gliding now sweetly 
 and softly, the perfection of musical tones, and, as he warmed 
 in his theme, gradually swelling ; and if it involved the great 
 issues of 'eternal judgment,' his soul glowed, his features 
 assumed an expression of awe and earnestness, his form 
 rose, and his voice broke upon his audience like the thun- 
 ders of Sinai over the trembling, awe-stricken hosts of Is- 
 rael. Then he was terrible. An instance of this, which 
 will never be forgotten by any one of the thousands pres- 
 ont, was his sermon at Mountain Spring Camp-ground, Nortli 
 Alabama, in 1829. His text was 'the barren fig-tree/ 
 The concourse was immense, made uj) mainly of awealtliy, 
 intelligent, and fashionable pe(.})le. Tliey were hospitable 
 
BlSIIOr OF THE M, E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 183 
 
 imcl well-behaved, but the best efforts of the most gifted 
 preachers had failed. The prayiiiji^ and faithful few were 
 discouraued and despondent, when Sunday brought out a 
 great multitude. Fariss was ai)pointed to preach, and hav- 
 ing spent the morning in a retired spot in the forest in soli- 
 tude with God, he entered the stand at the minute, and be- 
 gan the services. Slowly at first the scattered groups began 
 to assemble. The sweet song and the short, fervent prayer 
 settled and solenmized them, and the sermon began. It is 
 useless to attempt q, description of the sermon. Suffice it to 
 say that as he proceeded the interest and emotions of the 
 hearers, and the magnetic power of the preacher filled with 
 the Holy Ghost, held the lately seething and restless crowd 
 as if spell-bound in soul and body, increasing in intensity 
 every minute, until he came to the sentence denounced upon 
 the fruitless tree; then summoning all his resources, and 
 unconsciously personating the avenger, he began to 'cut 
 doivn.' Stroke after stroke fell, and still the glittering 
 blade rose and fell, until all classes of sinners and barren 
 professors were ruthlessly hewn down and hurled into the 
 abysmal depths of unquenchable burning. There was no 
 more preaching that day or the ensuing night — no chance 
 for it nor need of it. Hundreds rushed to the altar; many 
 could not get there, and therefore fell on their knees. The 
 tents, theieiicampment, and surrounding forest were full of 
 groups of penitents, and all night long the sounds of prayer 
 and praise were mingled. Over two hundred were num- 
 bered as converts, and as many went away to change their 
 lives, and try to bear fruit unto eternal life. 
 
 "Let it not be supposed that the 'terrors of the Lord' 
 were his favorite themes, or topics, in which his genius was 
 chiefly developed. Divine love, as evinced in creation, 
 providence, and especially in redemption, was the subject 
 in which he seemed to revel as a congenial element. Among 
 
184 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 the most vivid pictures photographed on the tablet of a 
 memory crowded by the incidents of a long life is that of a 
 short sermon I heard from him at La Grange College, Aki- 
 bama, about 1831, while be was in charge of the circuit. 
 It was upon Sunday — one of the coldest days of a winter 
 memorable as the coldest and longest experienced in this 
 country, the thermometer Hilling to ten degrees below zero 
 on the northern side of my residence on College Hill. At 
 the signal for preaching the congregation assembled in a 
 large, rather dilapidated room upon the mmpus — the chapel 
 then not finished. The Faculty, students, citizens of the vil- 
 lage, and several planters from the beautiful valley, filled 
 the house, while a bright fire crackled in the wide, old- 
 fashioned fire-place. The earth had been frozen for a week 
 or two, and a fi*esh snow and sleet storm had been followed 
 by a cloudless morning, with a fierce north wind, which 
 seemed to pierce to the bones and marrow of the shivering 
 audience. Not a particle of an icicle melted under the rays 
 of the midday sun. We crowded into the well-ventilated old 
 room, and nobody objected to being wedged a little, for Far- 
 iss"was to preach — and we only hoped the talk Avould be 
 a short one.; if not short, it might be one of his sweet talks. 
 And so it was — short, sweet ; and much more, it was spark- 
 ling, rich, and aglow with piety. After quoting a verse or 
 two of one of David's inimitable outbursts of miiigled ado- 
 ration and praise, which always sound to me like the cho- 
 ral symphonies of universal created being to the unveiling 
 developments of the mysteries of God's providence and 
 grace, he repeated it: 'God is good — good in all he does, in 
 ail he allows, and in all he does not.' Descanting awhiS 
 n[)<)n his theme as it is seen in creation and in providence, 
 he seized the occasion to illustrate it: 'It is cold — very cold 
 -and so it has been for many <lays. A bright sun to-Jny 
 fitils to thaw the frozen earth. But we have the sun, ami 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 18.! 
 
 are sure he ^v^l ,stay, and trhimph at last.' Th^n began 
 one of those bright, poetic conceptions which, considering 
 his education, seemed wonderful. It was inipfomptu— he 
 had perhaps never heard of Milton, :M()ntgoniery, or Byron. 
 * But suppose the sun should fail to rise to-morrow.' Then 
 turning to the planters, in substance he said: 'Some of you 
 are used to getting up before day-break now— you want to 
 be ready to go to work as soon as you can. You get rest- 
 less, disturb your wife and children, and make your negroes 
 get up, feed the stock, and prepare for work. The night is 
 too long— you are greedy of big crops and of money. Sup- 
 pose the sun does not respond to your old clock on the man- 
 tel and your almanac-time. You scold at the meddling of 
 some one with the clock. All deny it. Another hour h 
 struck, another, and another, until it is evident the grea 
 clock-work of the world is out of order.' Then he describe* 
 the consternation and universal horror pervading and in 
 creasing as months of darkness and despair succeeded, unti 
 the snow filled the valleys, and the streams were locked 1 
 their fountain-head with frost ; with fiimilies isolated /jc L 
 and fuel exhausted, death everywhere, and the wail i tl e 
 few helpless and hopeless survivors borne over the late y 
 crowded cities; the marts of commerce and the abt-Zles of 
 wealth now voiceless and dark as the tomb. Al^,er the 
 lapse of a year, suddenly a faint blush is seen in the eastern 
 horizon, and rising and spreading, finally brigh^-ns into 
 day, and every living eye sees once more the r'sen king 
 of day. Then he pictured the scene, the shouts, the rapt- 
 urous joy, the praise to Ood from every heart and lip— to 
 the Father of mercies. There was no outburst at the close, 
 l)ut a subdued and deeply impressive sensation of gratitude 
 which tended to make the sacrifice of self and the perform- 
 ance of unpleasant duties more endurable ever since. A 
 firm heliej in God's goodness, in his works an.] ways, has 
 
186 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 been and is a source of the strongest, purest, and sweetest 
 comforts of my life. That short sermon served to give spe- 
 cial definiteness and force to this truth. This singularly 
 good and great man died prematurely, leaving a large and 
 helpless family. He resided somewhere near the college. 
 We were glad to give his children what educational advan- 
 tages we could. I know nothing of them of late years. I 
 am not writing compliments — I despise shams and preten- 
 sions — but James W. Fariss, wdth a few others, will ever 
 stand in the picture-gallery of my memory like a column 
 of crystal." 
 
BISIIOr OF THE M. E. CIIUKCH, SOUTH. 1«7 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 "Notes of Life" Continued-Markiage of Ministeus-Ad- 
 
 MINISTRAI ION OF DiSCIPLINE-POPULAR AMUSEMENTS-1^ INAN- 
 
 ciAL Straits. 
 
 M\NY men have been seriously hindered, and some have 
 been ruined, by indiscreet marriages in the early years 
 of their ministry. There is much of wisdom and >vholesome 
 instruction in these words : , 
 
 "In the course of many years I have known several in- 
 stances where it looked as if it would have been better for 
 both if they had never been born. For mstance, ^o. 1 
 was a promising young man-admitted on trial m — 
 Conference; was of a poor but honest family; education 
 little- form and personal appearance faultless; fluent; 
 memory remarkable; stock in trade, a few flashy sermons 
 thorou^dilv memorized and some scrap-book poetry, a lit- 
 tle theologv; voice and address agreeable; amiable and re- 
 lidous Traveled a backwoods circuit his first year, where 
 he met the daughter of a large land-owner lately from :. 
 distant boardiug-school. She was young, full of foncy and 
 romance, and was struck by his superiority to the rustics 
 about there. Her father, devoted to his large bu^ness a - 
 fairs, nominally a Methodist, practically a tliorough world- 
 liucr; her mother an invalid; neither had paid much over- 
 sight to her training, intellectual or moral, devolving it all 
 upon her instructors in distant fashionable boarding-schools 
 She was ricb; h.r l)ills, however extravagant, were paid 
 ^vithout a murnmr; and as she could have ber own way or 
 go elsewhere, and the obsequious teacher could uot aflordto 
 
188 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 lose such a prize, her education was utterly a sham. Leav- 
 ing school in a whim, she found her father had removed 
 from the old homestead to the distant West, and was living 
 in temporary log-cabins in the midst of his large land es- 
 tate. Here the young preacher found her, and impressed 
 her as a handsome young man. The attraction was mutual. 
 Before the year closed it was agreed to end the romance 
 by getting married without the knowledge of her parents. 
 It Avas done, and the proud father was startled in the midst 
 of his cares by the news of their marriage, and the bedrid- 
 den mother learned that her young and heedless daughter 
 had eloped with the young preacher. The father, an ex- 
 member of Congress — when to be one was an honor — 
 though greatly surprised and mortified, because he knew 
 what a mistake they had made, sent for them, gave them 
 a home and some land not far away; and without re- 
 proaching the young husband told him to go to work or 
 otherwise as he pleased: they had consulted no one, and 
 assumed their ability to manage for themselves; he hoped 
 they would sui3ceed. The poetry of the aflliir soon wore off. 
 Of course he was 'discontinued' as a preacher — his pros- 
 pective usefulness ruined, too late he realized his loss of the 
 r(!spect of his old friends, and his unfitness for association 
 with the family into which he had intruded, and had dragged 
 down the young girl to a position of mortified pride. He 
 ceased to study — no one cared to hear him repeat his few 
 memorized sermons ; he knew little else, and he faded away 
 like a dissolving scene, and its shadow rested upon all con- 
 cerned, and charity drops a veil over the end. 
 
 "JN^o. 2 was a very different young preacher; was of a 
 wealthy, highly reputable family; his education much 
 above ordinary; his preaching abilities fine; was favored 
 in his appointments, ])opular, and promising great useful- 
 ness. Unfortunately, had from the first a special fondness 
 
BISHOr OF THK M. E. CIIUPvCII, SOUTH. 189 
 
 ft)!' the a)nipany of young hidics — would seek it; ride with 
 them to his appointments; wait on them, and hiugh and 
 joke with them to the ehureh-door, and made himself a 
 beau of a preaeher. Soon got entangled in love meshes — 
 friends got liim out; but was soon again involved. In a 
 year or two was married to a town belle; received from her 
 father a valuable legacy in a farm. She ridiculed the itin- 
 erancy; a country life too dull; sold the farm, bought in 
 town, and with inexperienced partners began merchandis- 
 ing; located to get out of debt. Located, got deeper in. Be- 
 came a bankrupt; and after years of trouble and sorrow 
 was readmitted, and resumed his former work. Old, poor, 
 and cast down, he tried to do his duty, but his life had been 
 wasted, and his mind dwarfed. If he had studied and waited 
 a few years, and then married a truly pious lady of good com- 
 mon senso, who would have helped him in his holy calling, 
 he might have become eminently useful. But he had made 
 a mlitake. 
 
 "No. 3 was the son of a i)lain old Methodist who, by 
 hard work and strict economy upon a" farm, had secured 
 the means of giving his only boy a pretty fair education ; 
 had been admitted on trial, and placed upon a good cir- 
 cuit; was well received, and gave promise of making a use- 
 ful man ; but a love craze came upon him too soon, and he 
 married an immature and worldly-minded girl in his sec- 
 ond year's ministry. The Bishop found it a little difficult 
 to give him work as a married man, and fewer doors were 
 opened to welcome him. They could bear with 1um, and 
 support him as a single man, but not with a wife. While 
 alone, he could come and go at his pleasure into any house 
 of his members, and required but little attention; it was a 
 difterent thing when he brought a lady into the family. 
 Some good sisters w(juld rather accommodate two men 
 than one woman. They fear the criticisms of their own 
 
190 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 sex. and look upon a strange lady as a detective in the 
 family. And if the poor innocent should be betrayed into 
 retailing the gossip she has heard where she lately visited, 
 she soon seals her own fate and her husband's too. Let the 
 young minister resolve that he will honorably graduate to 
 the eldership, and clearly understand 'the course of study' 
 j)rescribed by the Church for all candidates therefor, before 
 he will presume to look a sensible lady in the face and ask for 
 her hand and heart for life. This is the shortest time. Seven 
 years of study and labor was the term of single blessedness 
 recommended by our fathers, and even then ' to hasten slowly ' 
 was a wise motto. Of course no universal rule can be laid 
 down, but excejDtions should be few. It is unfortunate to 
 rush into the ministry, and equally so to rush into matri- 
 mony. Ministerial dwarfishness and location, with all the 
 attendant evils to the Church and to themselves, follow. 
 Exceptional cases do occur where a preacher, even in his 
 early ministry, finds a lady who will stimulate and aid him 
 in his studies, symjoathize with his efforts to be consecrated 
 and useful, and by her prudence and piety raise him to a 
 higher plane. Such a wife is a prize above rubies. But 
 'pearls of great value' are sometimes counterfeited. 
 
 "Among other sad cases of matrimonial mistakes was that 
 of a good brother who married an excellent widow, who, al- 
 though his senior, would have made him happy ; but her chil- 
 dren, without cause, were bitterly opposed to him, resulting 
 in a great family disturbance, and in the violent death of 
 the noble-hearted but unfortunate preacher. Few ministers, 
 like Wesley, have risen above the influence of marrying 
 badly. A good wife 'is of the Lord' — and their name u 
 'legion' — but a bad one is a great calamity, not to say a 
 curse. Paul had the right to lead about a wife like Peter 
 — Init all tilings lawful are not at all times expedient." 
 
 The administration of discipline is essential to the exist- 
 
BISHOP OF TlIK M. E. CIIURCir, SOUTH. 191 
 
 euce of the Churcli, Init very much depends upon the spirit 
 in which the h\ws are enforced. The course pursued by the 
 young preacher who afterward became the senior Bishop of 
 the Church, and the highest expounder of ecclesiastical law, 
 possesses much interest. Feeble hands may do much to in- 
 jure the cause of Christ; a vindictive spirit will do more, 
 liobert Paine found the middle way the path of safety: 
 
 "The Flint liiver Circuit, to which I was appointed in 
 1818, was a large one. All our circuits then were large. 
 I was alone. It extended south to Huntsville, Alabama, 
 and north to Winchester, Tennessee, with the intervening 
 and surrounding country. It lay in a fertile and beautiful 
 region, and was rapidly filling up with a wealthy and in- 
 telligent population. It was bounded on the east by a 
 lofty, unbroken range of mountains dividing the waters of 
 Tennes'see and Elk rivers, and constituting one of the most 
 picturesque and productive valleys in the Western World. 
 It was a charming country, and was occupied by a worthy 
 people. Its contiguity to my father's gave me the pleasure 
 of visiting home more frequently. The principal drawback 
 Avas that, being in pastoral charge, the exercise of the dis- 
 cipline upon its violators now devolved upon me. Several 
 instances soon occurred — the first at F.'s camp-ground. 
 
 "After preaching, and dismissing the audience, I proceed- 
 ed to ask for the class-leader and the class-paper, to hold 
 class-meeting, with closed doors, as usual. The leader sug- 
 gested that a certain brother present had been intoxicated, 
 and a trial was needed. The membership was the largest 
 in the circuit; all were present. A profound silence en- 
 sued, while every head was bowed in grief and sympathy. 
 The accused was under middle age, an industrious and suc- 
 cessful young planter, who owned a good little farm, and 
 was popular and respected. His wife, with two small chil- 
 dren, was there. She was a cheerful, tidy, loving wife, and 
 
192 LIFE OF ROllFFvT FAINE, D.D. 
 
 an earnest Christian. The sun rarely shone on a liappier 
 household. Their j^arents, on both sides, and nearly all 
 their kin, were present; for the family were Methodists, and 
 were the bone and sinew of the county as citizens and 
 Christians. The erring brother responded to the call of 
 his name, pleaded guilty to the charge, and in subdued 
 tones submitted his case. I read the law — drunkenness is 
 *a crime expressly forbidden.' I was in trouble — all were 
 troubled. Must he be expelled? He was a young convert, 
 and expulsion and degradation likely involved ruin. I be- 
 gan by asking him: ' Why, my brother, have you brought 
 yourself and us into this fix? Have you any explanation 
 to give for your conduct? When, where, how did it hap- 
 pen?' Then the class-paper trembled in my hand as his 
 wife's head sunk down as if she was crushed, and I broke 
 down. Then he raised his head a little, and while great 
 scalding tears were coursing down his honest, candid face, 
 he said slowly, in tones interrupted by emotions too strong 
 to be wholly expressed bywords: 'I didn't intend it, broth- 
 er. It wasn't in a doggery; my merchant said I needed 
 something; it was so cold — brought it — now suppose it was 
 raw whisky or brandy. I never thought it would turn my 
 head so. Never was drunk before. Can't help it now ; it's 
 over, and I am ruined.' Here he broke down, and his poor 
 wife brought a low, long wail, like a despairing dirge. We 
 all broke down. ' No, no, brother,' I said ; ' can't you quitf^ 
 'Quit!' he replied. 'I have quit. Suppose you must turn 
 me out; suppose you ought to. I deserve it; but do as you 
 may, I will never taste the thing again ; never, so help me 
 God!' And then the wife shouted, and the elder child 
 climbed into his father's lap, and the youngest nestled 
 fondly on its mother's bosom. The old mend)ers shook 
 hands and blessed God, and the young pastor thought he 
 saw day breaking. In conclusion, I proposed that if he 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 193 
 
 ^vas truly j)(iiitcMit, and would then and there join me in a 
 solenni pledge ncvtr to use intoxieating liijuors again, un- 
 less as medieine, we would forgive him, and say nothing 
 more about a trial. lie did this at once; the members 
 agreed to it, and this was the first temperance society 
 I formed. I often heard of him afterward, and learned 
 he had kept his vow, as I have tried to keep mine s-ince 
 1818. Methodism meant temperance then. The class-leader 
 prayed, all left happy, and at a camp-meeting held there 
 that summer more than one hundred and twenty professed 
 religion and joined the Church. That trial did good. 
 
 " But scarcelv had I ceased to thank God, and concrratu- 
 late myself on the hai)py ending of this affair, befbi-e it was 
 whispered in my ear by a trusty and tried class-leader, the 
 recording steward residing in a distant section of my work 
 — old Brother S. — that a similar but far ??iore serious case 
 had occurred in his class. The greater importance of this 
 affair arose from the fact that the accused Avas the best ed- 
 ucated, most respected, and most generally known of any 
 other local minister in the community. He was a native of 
 Scotland — was thoroughly educated in Edinburgh for the 
 ministry of the National Church, and came to the United 
 States at the call of his brethren to fill an important posi- 
 tion. He landed in Virginia, I believe, where he entered 
 upon the duties of his vocation. His qualifications for the 
 position soon became evident, and his success was assured. 
 New scenes and associations were, after a short period, fol- 
 lowed by his marriage to an excellent lady, a Methodist, 
 and a member of an intelligent and highly respected family. 
 Thus throAvn into immediate contact with a large and de- 
 voted body of Christians and ministers holding Arminian 
 sentiments, he awoke to the fact that he was obliged to ex- 
 amine a creed which, by the number and character of its 
 adherents, confronted^ and antagonized his own. Quietly 
 
194 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 prayerfully, and unknown to others, the piiocess began. It 
 presently became a serious matter. He began it, not doubt- 
 ing it would end in confirming his long-cherished Calvinist- 
 ic opinions, and furnish him additional arguments against 
 Wesleyan theology. What was his surprise, as he cautious- 
 ly and slowly proceeded, to find himself surrendering aiid 
 receding, step after step, from points he had regarded as 
 impregnable, until to his amazement his conscience com- 
 pelled him to abandon the strongholds of unconditional 
 election and accept the system of provisional universal 
 salvation. There was no public controversy going on be- 
 tween the opposing advocates of the two creeds, but 
 in the solitude of his library he critically, as a schol- 
 ar, marked, weighed, and inwardly digested the subject, 
 determined to follow his matured and conscientious con- 
 victions wherever they might lead. The result' of this 
 mental struggle was his conversion to Methodist doctrines. 
 Arminius, Episcopius, Wesley, and Fletcher, in their ex- 
 planation of the word of God, triumphed over Augustine, 
 Knox, and Calvin, and his mind was disenthralled and 
 emancipated from the 'Horrible Decree' It followed, as a 
 matter of course, that as his investigation had been h(mest 
 his action was prompt. He candidly reported his change, 
 was 'relievecr without censure, received and recognized as 
 a minister of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and enjoyed 
 the confidence and esteem of both Churches and of the 
 whole community. In after years his Virginia friends in- 
 duced him to remove with them to the West, and open 
 a first-class academy, Avhere I found him in 1818, within 
 the bounds of my work. He had become a patriarch in 
 piety, age, and bearing. His school and that conducted 
 by Kev. Thomas B. Craighead, near Nashville, Tennessee, 
 one hundred and twenty miles apart, were regarded as the 
 best classical academies in all their ref-'pective regions. Ic 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOI'TH. 195 
 
 iiinny respects they "were alike — 1)(>tli ^vel•e then far ad- 
 vanced in life, had educated a larue iiuniher of the most 
 prominent members of the community ; both had found it 
 necessary to revise their creeds, and eliminate therefrom 
 the ultra Calvinistic features of the Westminster Confes- 
 sion. The former had found a congenial haven in Meth- 
 odism, Avhile the latter, I believe, did not change his Church 
 relation. They were alike respected for tlieir piety, learn- 
 ing, and usefulness. 
 
 "Such was the venerable man who was reported by his 
 class-leader and life-long friend as having been into ^icated ; 
 and who desired to see me and the leader about it. We 
 went immediately, and found him in bed; silence and sor- 
 row prevailed in the house. His aged and dey -ted wife 
 and their children kept their rooms — they w^^re grief- 
 stricken and stunned; they could not talk about it; could 
 see no one. Our visit unlocked the fountain, and for awhile 
 his tears poured forth as from an overflowing heart. We, 
 too, sat wdth bowed heads, and could not talk, while we 
 cried as if over a dying father. At last he abruptly 
 broke the silence, in substance saying to me : 'I have dis- 
 graced the Church — have been intoxicated — you must try 
 and expel me. Nothing short of this will do.' The ^acts 
 turned out to be these: He was invited to celebrate the 
 rites of matrimony between a couple who were the children 
 of two of his friends. When the time arrived the weather 
 had become intensely cold, the roads frozen, and the dis- 
 tance was greater than he had supposed. Withal, he was 
 an inexperienced horseback-rider; was old, feeble, and not 
 acquainted with the road. Of course he lost his way, was 
 Belated, and after hiring a negro to guide him, arrived at 
 the place several hours behind time. When he got there 
 he was so stiff and cold that he had to be taken down and 
 carried into the house. To restore him they gave him 
 
190 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 something, assuring him it would revive him without hurt- 
 ing him. He took it, sat near the fire awhile, and found 
 his head in a whirl. ' AVhy, every thing is turning round! 
 am I drunk?' he exclaimed. The company assembled was 
 a large, wealthy, and aristocratic one, many of whom he 
 had educated, and all revered him ; they knew his Scotch 
 integrity and Christian purity of life, and while he wept in 
 repeating, 'I must be drunk,' etc., they replied: 'No, it \h 
 vertigo — the cold and fatigue followed by a hot fire.' But 
 this did not soothe his feelings. He, however, performed 
 the ceremony, and after a night's rest went home. Now 
 he demanded of me, as his pastor, a trial and full punish- 
 ment. He had dismissed his school in his paroxysm of 
 mortified grief, had proclaimed his fall, and now the 
 Church must vindicate her rules by his arrest, trial, and 
 expulsion. It was useless to talk to him. So I called a 
 committee, and he was suspended for three months. He 
 protested against the leniency of the sentence, and sent me 
 his certificates of ordination, but finally submitted. The 
 time expired ; it was on my preaching-day there. I avsked 
 him to take my place. The whole region attended, and 
 such a sermon and such a time as we all had are rarely 
 witnessed. He fell to rise higher in public esteem, and has 
 long since gone where misfortunes and temptations, like sin 
 and sorrow, are forever unknown." 
 
 On the subject of popular amusements Bishop Paine has 
 left a clear testimony. Conservative in thought, he has 
 given no cause for complaint of extreme views. As a calm, 
 wise, and deeply interested observer of men and things, his 
 views are of great value : 
 
 "In going from McGee's to Huntsville, in the year 181 f), 
 on my circuit w^ork, and just as I came opposite the Green 
 Bottom Inn, I heard a great shout, and looking to my left 
 saw an immense throng of highly excited people, and at a 
 
IJISnOP OF THE M. E. CHUHCII, SOUTH. 
 
 197 
 
 glance perceived horses dash off in the direction I was trav- 
 eling. It flashed upon nie that it was the celel)rated race- 
 track where the sportsmen of Kentucky, Tennessee, and 
 North Alabama annually tested the speed and pluck of their 
 liigh- blooded horses. The hill, houses, and stages were 
 crowded, and such cheering and prolonged huzzas had rarely 
 been heard. In a moment the words 'Mine eyes sliall not 
 look-on vanity' occurred to me; and although the swift 
 coursers in making the circle ran so near me that I could 
 hear the clatter of their feet and the breathing of the pant- 
 ing and struggling fliers, I kept steadily on my way without 
 l)ausing or stealing a glance at them. 
 
 " Is it asked what harm it would have been if I had done 
 otherwise? Would it have been sinful? Is racing a sin? 
 I do not say that running, or simple racing, is a sin, or that 
 looking at a race is of itself such, especially if it be acci- 
 dental ; but I do unequivocally say that the race-course is 
 the theater where one of the worst kinds of gambling is 
 practiced, and that all abettors of it are practically contrib- 
 uting to debauch public sentiment. Bets are often made on 
 trials of speed a year or more in advance; the mind, heart, 
 and body are i^reoccupied and engrossed. I have known 
 sportsmen, while with heavy bets pending and horses in 
 training for the coming contest, to become religiously im- 
 pressed ; but few of them have yielded. The very fact that 
 they had committed themselves to a race for a large sum 
 utterly discouraged all serious efforts. The excitement con- 
 tinues so long, the associations and fascinations are so dan- 
 gerous, and the temptations to other and kindred vices so 
 strong, that the life of the sportsman is like walking by 
 moonlight over a bridge full of holes— where one crosses 
 safelv a hundred fall through. Grant something may be 
 true which is claimed for it, as to improving certain rpial- 
 ities of the horse, the employment it gives to labor, the 
 
J98 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 people it brings to the hotel and public carrier interests, and 
 the recreation it affords to the masses Avho attend, backed 
 and countenanced by legislators, judges, the queens of beauty, 
 fashion, and wealth, fi-om the empress to the canaille — still, 
 candor compels the verdict that the evil infinitely tran- 
 scends the benefit. The benefit is largely imaginary, the 
 evil real and far-reaching. The gambling like the drink- 
 ing proclivity is a morally unhealthy one, needing restraint 
 the more because it originates in a perverted and depraved 
 appetite. Whether we regard the kings of the turf, the in- 
 fluence they naturally exercise over their own families, es- 
 pecially their sons and sons-in-laAV, over their associates, re- 
 tainers, trainers, stable-boys, and the long retinue of flatter- 
 ers, loafers, and worn-out specimens of humanity ; the diver- 
 sion it fosters adverse to piety, purity, and intellectual cult- 
 ure, leaving out of view the pecuniary investment in it, and 
 which cannot be readily turned into other and useful enter- 
 prises without heavy loss ; all, and more, unite to condemn 
 the race-track as exceptionally objectionable — a gigantic 
 gamble. Under the most favorable surroundings, it works 
 evil. The fictitious importance it confers upon the least 
 valuable quality of the horse is overwhelmingly counter- 
 ba lanced by its degrading effects upon the noblest attributes 
 of manhood. And this applies alike to aristocratic Epsom 
 Derby and the quarter-mile extemporized race at the dilap- 
 idated village for a quart of contraband whisky — Avith the 
 exception that the former is worse in proportion to its as- 
 sumed greater respectability. Imagine a race-visiting cler- 
 gyman preaching on Sunday to an audience he has been 
 meeting the entire week previously on the race-track! Is 
 he not beset with the echoes of the shouts, the ribald jests, 
 profanity, and drunken craziness of his associates, even when 
 in soft tones of mock penitence he distributes to them the 
 sacred symbols of the Last Supper, and when renouncing 
 
iJi^iior OF THE M. K. (HI lan, suLTir. ]1>9 
 
 * the devil and all his works, the vain pomp and glory of 
 the world,' and vowing 'not to follow or be led by them?' 
 Must not the actors in this scene laugh in each other's faces, 
 the first time they meet afterward, at the remembrance 
 of their sublime impudence? Is this Liberalism — Broad- 
 church Chi'istianity ? Liberal enough for the Roman soldier 
 who gambled for Christ's vesture at the foot of his cross, 
 and broad enough for the rich man who went to hell. 
 
 " But what of dancing and the theater? AVill the Church 
 prohibit its members from amusements? Certainly not. 
 Bational and innocent amusements may often be needed, 
 and are proper. Our Heavenly Father does not stint us. 
 He is profuse. All paradise was given with one reservation. 
 That was a test case. The only thing prohibited was a thing 
 not necessary to existence, to true happiness, or the highest 
 end of life. Of every thing else they might freely and fully 
 partake. The new — the 'good, very good'— world, with all 
 its beauty, sublimity, and stainless purity, lay before them, 
 the free gift and pledge of their great Father's love. It 
 was theirs to have, to hold, and enjoy. With all this was 
 the bestowment of attributes adapting them perfectly to ap- 
 prehend and enjoy their munificent surroundings. Within 
 the vast circumference of these various pursuits and pleas- 
 ures all was natural and innocent; but as every gift carries 
 with it obligation, and every law implies and involves duties 
 to be enforced by penalty, so, as a recognition of this uni- 
 versal principle, a prohibition was announced as a test of 
 love and fealty, to disregard which is sin. It mattei*s not 
 what that duty or test may be, if the Supreme Lawgiver 
 authoritatively imposes it as such, it is sin to disregard it. 
 The simpler and easier the condition, the less is the excuse 
 and greater the sin of its violation. The magnitude of the 
 offense is deteruiiucd by the authority of the law. The in- 
 spux'd oracles denounce 'reveling, banqueting,' 'the lusts of 
 
200 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, I.>.D. 
 
 the flesh and of the eye, and the pride of life ; ' it demands 
 bearing the cross, self-denial, humility, and to do ' whatever 
 we do to the glory of God.' While neither the Bible nor 
 the Church prescribes specifically and by name every duty 
 or denounces every error, resolving and comprehending 
 many of them in great princij^les, the distinctions are so 
 clear and plainly laid down as to be apparent to the discern- 
 ment of the spiritually-minded inquirer. It is not dancing 
 for health or recreation, nor dancing in the abstract — if 
 there be such — but dancing in the concrete, promiscuous, of 
 the sexes in close contact ; the familiar handling, dangling, 
 caressing, the indelicate posturing, the personal liberty taken 
 and submitted to as naturally understood in the programme 
 of the dance-room — all these kej^t up to the ' wee hours of 
 the night ' — it is these, and the like, which go to condemn 
 these orgies as injurious to health, and inconsistent with re- 
 fined feminine sensibility and the genius of Christianity. 
 
 " It is not assumed that there are not greater evils than 
 dancing, or that some who oppose it may not have a ' beam ' 
 who find a ' mote ; ' nor is it denied that young and timid 
 ladies, Avho find themselves unexpectedly in a parlor where 
 they must join in a dance, or be the 'wall-flowers' of the 
 circle, reluctantly, and fi'om a want of moral courage, yield 
 to temptation. They are perhaps as much to be pitied as 
 blamed for the offense ; but if they freely, and from love of 
 it, persist against persuasion, remonstrance, and repeated 
 pastoral w^arning, and reasonable waiting for reflection, the 
 result seems inevitable — the formal relation dissolved as the 
 spiritual has already been. Whoever loves worldly i:)leas- 
 nres more than Christ is no Christian ; and the fashionable 
 dance, and the delight in it, as clearly discriminates between 
 the 'flesh and the spirit' as any thing I know of. The 
 Churcli, following the Master, has prohibited it. Every 
 Clu-istian denoiiiiuation in the country, throuLdi its liighest 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 201 
 
 officials, has condemned it ; and if they liave ftiiled to con- 
 form their judicial acts to their protestt^, we may regret it, 
 but cannot imitate them. As INIetliodists we may not al- 
 ways have been blameless, but I think I can safely say that 
 horse-racing, the liquor traffic, theater-going, and dancing- 
 all of which belong to the same category — when properly 
 dealt with, will dissolve Church-membership when properly 
 brought into the Church-court. 
 
 " In this exercise of official duty it is especiallv proper 
 that there be no rash, hasty, or injudicious action. While we 
 dare not silently see the Church lapse into worldliness with- 
 out trying to prevent it, we cannot afford to diminish our 
 influence as under-shepherds of a gentle and loving Chief 
 Pastor. 
 
 "To all this it may be said the tendency of the time is 
 drifting the Church into the world, and it cannot be pre- 
 vented. So much greater is the necessity to resist it now, 
 before it is too late. What surprises me most is that, our 
 members need restraint in these things. After my conver- 
 sion I had no taste for them. Love and gratitude to my 
 Lord cured me for life of the desire for sinful and doubtful 
 amusements. A thorough change of heart ought to do this." 
 
 Few IMethodist preachers have escaped the knowledge of 
 financial embarrassments. The small sums allowed to the 
 preachers in the early days were often insufficient to supply 
 the necessaries of life. The helping Providence is seen in 
 the following narrative of Bishop Paine : 
 
 " My field of labor presented some serious discouragements 
 during the first half of the year. I was not only without 
 acquaintances, but my circuit was very large, deficient in 
 roads and bridges; accommodations and ordinary comforts 
 greatly needed, as usual in new settlements, while I had 
 twenty-eight appointments to fill monthly, from fifteen to 
 twenty-five miles apart. During the winter of 1819-20 and 
 
202 LIFE OF KOBEKT FAINE, D.I). 
 
 early spring, I was much exposed to the weather, and was 
 near bein": drowned on several occasions while swininiinir 
 streams to reach ray preaching-places. For all this I felt 
 amply compensated by the warm-hearted hospitality of tlic 
 ])eople, and by the consciousness of trying to do my duty. 
 Yet I now^ think that in some of these hazardous exposures 
 I was mistaken as to duty. Before the year had half ex- 
 ],ired my finances were exhausted, and it^ flashed upon me 
 while crossing a little prairie between Erie and Greensboro, 
 skirted by trees draped in long moss, that I wtis a penniless 
 stranger hundreds of miles from home, too proud to beg and 
 unal)le to dig. The fact Is, I thought I had left my father's 
 with money enough to pay my way for more than a year ; 
 hut my traveling expenses, clothing, horse-shoeing, and other 
 things, had cost a good deal more than in Tennessee, and 
 having neglected to write home in time, I had suddenly beou 
 startled with the discovery of my banki'uptcy. I have a 
 distinct recollection of my feelings. I stopped, looked 
 through my collapsed pocket-book to find it innocent of con- 
 cealing a single cent. What now ? Shall I go on, getting 
 farther away from home, try to get back to Tuscaloosa, bor- 
 row money there to get home on, and then return to my 
 circuit ? If so, all my appointments fall, and I have to go 
 around to make new ones. Besides, friends and foes will 
 say 1 deserted my post; and then I remembered that a bold, 
 bad man, living on the north fork of the Warrior, had sent 
 me word that if I preached there again he would certainly 
 beat me badly. I confess this threat determined me. / 
 irould not go away under a threat. I turned away to trust 
 Providence for the money and do m.y work. The stewards 
 liad neglected their duty, l)ut without begging it I got tlie 
 means from an unexpected source the next day, and staid. 
 I am glad I did. The money came in this wise: About 
 buiiset on the day just alluded to I rode up to a cabin hav- 
 
lUSIIOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 203 
 
 iiig only one room, an<l upon asking the name of the owner 
 was confronted by a very large lady who gave the name 
 where Brother E. Hearn had informed me he had made an 
 ajipointment for me to preach on the next day. I asked the 
 lady if there was such an appointment. She did not know — 
 had heard the old man say something about it; but he and 
 the boys were off on a bear-hunt — might be home some time 
 that night, or might not. Told her I received notice, and 
 upon his invitation I had come to preach. She looked some- 
 what bewildered, and I felt a good deal so. The only house 
 I saw was that one ; it was unfinished ; a half dozen children 
 crowded the door. The boys and the old man, with those 
 present, must fill it. It looked like a downright imposition 
 to obtrude; but what could I do? Night was upon me. I 
 was a stranger — did not know the roads nor the neighbors, 
 if there Avere any. Could she tell where I could go? But 
 she was a new-comer — did not know. Still sitting upon my 
 tired horse and looking around for a road, she said I was 
 welcome to stay if I could make out to do so ; but there was 
 no place nor any food for my horse, except a little corn 
 which was used for bread after being pounded in a wooden 
 mortar by a wooden pestle or beater. How gratefully 1 
 accepted the conditions! blistered my shoulders carrying 
 heavy rails to make a pound for my horse; and how long I 
 belabored those flinty grains of corn into meal, and how 
 soundly 1 slept, the deponent saith not. Next day a dozen, 
 more or less, came out. The old man had got home before 
 midnight and fixed seats ; and as I began service a tall and 
 elegant lady came in, and after preaching had closed, intro- 
 duced herself, and invited me in the name of her husband 
 to spend the nighty with them, and that at my next round I 
 should preach at their house. ^ly host and his wife con- 
 senting, I promised to do so. When leaving there next 
 morning to cross the Alabama T\ivcrat Cahaba, a five-dollar 
 
204 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 gold 2^iece was left iu my hand by Mrs. Matthew Garey. 
 That was enough ; it woukl pay my way across the river and 
 until my stewards should awake to the fact that they had 
 forgotten their duty." 
 
BISHOP OF Tin: M. K. ( lllUlfll, SOUTH. 205 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 "Notes of Life" CoNTixrEo — Kemoval of Indians — Holy 
 Living — Sketch of Bishop Lascom — Church Polity. 
 
 THE attitude of the Government toward theLidian tribes 
 has employed the pens of many wise and benevolent 
 persons, who have deplored the resort to the im})lements of 
 "warfare and death as means of controlling and subduing 
 the red men. Bishop Paine furnishes us with a plain state- 
 ment relating to two of the Indian tribes : 
 
 " The winter of L540-41 proved to be unusually long and 
 severe, and the Spaniards drew heavily upon the Indians for 
 supplies — they accused their red friends of having retaliated 
 by taking their hogs. De Soto is said to have carried a 
 good many hogs with him to meet emergencies, and the In- 
 dians had now' learned to appreciate this kind of food. A 
 large part of this tribe still lived on the East Tennessee and 
 West Virginia highlands, although they had many villages 
 in what has long been known as the ' Chickasaw Old Fields.' 
 In the spring of L541 De Soto, wishing to continue his march, 
 demanded two hundred able-bodied Indians to assist in car- 
 rying his baggage and artillery to the Mississippi River, but 
 they refiised to obey. A battle followed, both parties suf- 
 fered terribly, and the Spaniards were compelled to leave, 
 much crippled and discouraged. They are thought to have 
 struck the great river at the ' Chickasaw Bluffs,' near Mem- 
 l)his. Crossing the Mississippi, they are believed to have 
 wandered over the highlands of Arkansas, and seen the Hot 
 Springs, but not finding the El Dorado, to have gone down 
 to the ^lississippi about Helena, where De Soto died. 
 
 "This whole affair seems like a romance, but there are 
 
206 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 many things which prove the main facts upon whicli the 
 story rests. See Pickett's * History of Ah\bama' and 'J. F. 
 H. Claiborne's Mississippi.' Other invasions of this country 
 by Spaniards and French at different periods occurred, in 
 all of A'hich these two great tribes maintained their reputa- 
 tion as warriors and statesmen, having never been con- 
 quered or driven by military force from their early homes. 
 
 " There are two points in this question as to the treatment 
 of the Indians by the United States Government upon which 
 I wish to make remarks before I close it. Of the general 
 subject I say nothing, because I know but little, but con- 
 fine myself to these two tribes. I knew a good deal about 
 them before they went west of the Mississippi, and have vis- 
 ited them repeatedly since — staid with them for weeks at a 
 time, held conferences with them, preached to them, and talked 
 freely with them. They left Mississippi and Alabama reluc- 
 tantly ; with many it was a great and sore trial ; but their 
 'heads' and 'chiefs' saw it must be, or they were to be wor- 
 ried almost to death and at last compelled to go. Think- 
 ing they might get a reliable guaranty by an exchange, in 
 which they would 2^<^y for their new home, and get clear of 
 being further disturbed, they finally consented to remove. 
 I believe the agreement was to allot to each Indian a cer- 
 tain amount of land wherever he might claim it. It was 
 all to be surveyed, and publicly sold to the highe t l):dder, 
 and the Indian to receive the whole amount. After ever/ 
 claim had been thus settled, the remainder of land was given 
 to the United States. In consideration for this the Indians 
 were to be transported at the expense and undei* the j)ro- 
 tection of the United States — were to have a guaranty title 
 to a much larger quantity of land west of the Mississipi)i 
 Kiver and a considerable annuity. The land here general- 
 ly sold for its fair value. I know it did in the Chickasaw 
 Nation, as I have lived upon it over thirty years, and doubt 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CIIUPwCH, SOUTH. 207 
 
 if to-day it could be yold for more than was then paid 
 for it. 
 
 "Specidators and j)reten(h'd friends doubtless cheated 
 individual Indians, but I do not believe the Government 
 did. Ui)on the ^vhole, I think the removal of the Chick- 
 asaws, Creeks, Cherokecs, Choctaws, Delawares, ^Vvan- 
 dots, and Shawnees, and the other tribes that settled down 
 quietly to agricultural life, has so far been a blessing to 
 them. It is my decided conviction that too large a terri- 
 tory is not favorable to their best interests. Enough for 
 cultivation and stock-ranging, and room for natural in- 
 crease, and for those who cannot be expected to suddenly 
 suppress their hunting proclivity, must be yielded to them. 
 
 " Gradually, as the wild game disappears, and they ad- 
 vance in civilization and piety, they cultivate the soil and 
 cease to roam and hunt. Most or all of the tribes enumerat- 
 ed have realized this fact, and are acting conformably. But 
 let the Government keep faith Avith them — drive off intrud- 
 ers, protect them from liquor-sellers, qualify them for citizen- 
 ship, and maintain them in all their rights. 
 
 "Of course no people will work for a living if others 
 will feed them. They must have help, but must help 
 themselves too. Help which comes without need and co- 
 operation is a premium for idleness and vagabondism. If 
 those tribes which have more land than they find necessary 
 will contract their limits, and not factiously oppose the open- 
 ing of railroads w'here the interests of society require them, 
 and the Government will sternly protect them, then may we 
 confidently look for their elevation. The preacher and the 
 teacher will then have a fiiir field." 
 
 As the shadows were falling at the serene sunset of life, 
 Bishop Paine reviews the past, and recalls the experiences 
 of his early days concerning the subject of holiness: 
 
 "Cicero and others have moralized beautifully on the 
 
208 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 subject of old age — the serene retrospect of a virtuous and 
 useful life; but to the Christian whose standard is the "svord 
 of God, and whose conscience demands a high degree of 
 purity of purpose, and a consecration of life to the noblest 
 capabilities of his being, there is little ground for self-com- 
 mendation. How^ever conscious he may feel of having in- 
 tended to do right, he cannot but be aware of having often 
 failed in his manner of doing it. The holiest are the hum- 
 blest and most grateful. It is natural for the aged to dwell 
 upon the past, and it is fit for them to be thankful for the 
 grace and the fostering providence which have guided and 
 preserved them; but 'pride was not made for man,' and we 
 need daily prayer for 'preventing grace' and pardon. 
 
 "In looking back over my life's work, no year has left its 
 mark upon my memory more indelibly than this. I was in 
 a mission-field, a stranger far from home ; the country was 
 new, comforts few, rides long, and my labors taxed all my 
 time and energies. The formation of the 'Missionary As- 
 sociation,' my trip to the Indian Territory, my illness among 
 them, and especially the intimate friendships formed with 
 John Hersey and other intelligent and truly devoted Chris- 
 tians, very deeply impressed me. Religiously it was a period 
 of very great importance to me. The subject of Jioline.ss 
 engrossed my mind and heart. I read, thought, and prayed 
 about it. Two days in the w^eek I fasted and prayed espe- 
 cially for the blessing of perfect love. Often I spent hours 
 at a time alone in the forest invoking the blessing of a ' clean 
 heart.' During many hours of lonesome travel through 
 primeval forests it occupied my thoughts. I never doubted 
 that I had been converted October 9, 1817. Others had 
 gone on to a higher state and had attained it, Why not I? 
 I denied myself many things I had always heretofore thought 
 innocent. I keenly introspected my feelings and motives. 
 If I were to particularize, my readers would likely think 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 209 
 
 my conscience was morbidly sensitive. ]\iy long rides and 
 constant labors and abstinence enfeebled me so that I could 
 not ride ten miles without getting off and resting by the 
 road-side. I became very thin — my knees got as hard as a 
 Avoud-chopper's hand, and my throat or lungs commenced 
 bleeding daily. Still I went on, preaching almost every 
 day and frequently at night, looking for the blessing of 
 'sanctification.' I remember distinctly while preaching on 
 'the pure in heart,' at Hardwick's, near Savannah, to have 
 felt such a sense of God's comforting presence that I was 
 constrained to avow that I then realized the blessing of per- 
 fect love. Nor was it a transient or solitary emotion. Yet 
 I hesitated and feared to profess it. I needed some one to 
 teach and guide me. So things continued until I left for 
 another field. The year's experience deeply impressed my 
 religious history. 
 
 "Of late I have been often asked my opinion as to cer- 
 tain articles which have been published as to regeneration, 
 sanctification, holiness. Christian perfection, etc., especially 
 as to whether regeneration and sanctification are distinct 
 and separate operations, each having its distinct evidence ; 
 or are they one, differing only in measure or degree? wheth- 
 er in either or any case it is proper to expect and pray for 
 a wholly sanctified heart and the witness of the Holy Spirit; 
 of its attainment yioiu; or is it a state of grace which is 
 gradual, and culminates only at the elose of probation? To 
 these and similar inquiries, and speaking for myself alone, 
 my answer is, I am not inclined to take as my creed on this 
 or any other scriptural dogma the language, by wholesale 
 of any uninspired creed-maker without explanation. I am 
 a Methodist, and believe in the doctrines and polity of my 
 Church, as I understand them to be embodied directly or 
 by fair inference in the Scriptures; and my views on thii* 
 subject may be thus briefly stated: 
 14 
 
210 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 "Regeneration changes our spiritual nature as justifica- 
 tion does our personal relation to God. As faith is the con- 
 dition precedent to these, so this faith, leading to filial obe- 
 dience, carries for^vard the work of grace to more full out- 
 pourings of the Holy Spirit, and, when persistently sought, 
 to closer communion with God, to which he gives the witness 
 of his work. It is the same agent, the same work, to be re- 
 tained and grow while life lasts. Every truly regenerated 
 person is 'set apart' to the service of God — 'sanctified.' 
 He enters upon ' the highway of holiness,' and if he contin- 
 ues holy and faithful he will most assuredly attain to ' the 
 mark for the prize.' Along this thoroughfare are stages, or 
 degree stations, which mark his progress ; and who can deny 
 that 'a clean heart, a right spirit,' 'love that casteth out 
 fear,' and the sanctity which Christ prayed that his disciples 
 might attain, may not be realized here, accompanied by the 
 witnessing Spirit? May we not expect to realize what God 
 promises to bestow? And why withhold his seal in verify- 
 ing his own work? 
 
 "It is, then, possible to be sanctified here, to love God 
 supremely, and yet to labor under physical infirmities and 
 the misfortune of a perverted nature. They are inevitable 
 sequences of the fall, and I cannot associate guilt with the 
 inevitable. I have never forgotten a question proposed to 
 me by an old preacher of another Church shortly after my 
 conversion : ' Did you repent of Adam's sin ? ' It was a new 
 thought to me, and I replied: 'I never thought of Adam's 
 sin. my own troubled me so much.' He thought I had not 
 gone far enough hack. I was troubled with the effects, but 
 not 'penitent for the guilt, of original sin. Guilt without per- 
 sonal agency is a myth, especially in view of the vicarious 
 'oblation that taketh away the sins of the world.'" 
 
 The extraordinary effect produced by the preaching of 
 Dr. Bascom has been noticed in a preceding extract from 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 211 
 
 the " Notes of Life." In the f()lh)\viug, Bishop Paine i)re- 
 seiits a more extended [)ieturc of this great preacher: 
 
 "The life of Henry Bidlenian Baseoni abounded witli in- 
 structive incidents, many of Avhieh are too well known to 
 rail for repetition. It may not, however, be amiss to eni- 
 jihasize a few of them. Born jMay 27, 1796, in New Jer- 
 sey, he embraced religion August 18, 1810; was received 
 by Loring Grant into the Methodist Church the next 
 spring; emigrated to Kentucky with his father's family in 
 1812, and shortly afterward settled in Ohio, a few miks 
 north of Maysville, Kentucky, in a poor and lonely region 
 of hills and gulches. His father seems to have been mar- 
 ried twice, and had a large family — Henry being his first- 
 born, and I believe the only child of his first wife. His 
 father, always poor, became prematurely infirm, and with 
 the burden of a heavy family could not dispense with the 
 labor of his son. After that son had culminated as 'a 
 bright particular star,' as a writer and orator in the galaxy 
 of great names destined ' never to fade nor fly,' while stand- 
 ing with an old resident of the city of Maysville, Kentucky, 
 overlooking the busy wharf, the river, and opposite the clitfs 
 upon whose side stood the humble log-cabin whence young 
 Bascom in his fourteenth year went forth to struggle for a 
 living fur himself and his dependent father and his half 
 sisters and brothers, my friend said to me : ' Here, right be- 
 fore you, is the place where our great and loved Dr. Bas- 
 com began his life's battle. In that little field on the river 
 I have seen him often cutting grain without coat or vest. 
 At this wharf, as a drayman, I have watched him receive 
 and hauling away the freight from boats, when the usual 
 pay for a day's labor was fifty cents. Saturday evening 
 would find him climbing up the brow of that steep and rug- 
 ged mountain, bearing provisions and a few simple delica- 
 cies, obtained by the daily la])or of his own hands, for the 
 
212 LIFE OF nOEERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 support of his bedridden father and helpless family.' In- 
 deed, his unfaltering love, and tender, never-ceasing care 
 and kindness to his kindred, through many years, was 
 known by all his early neighbors. Even after he had won 
 his professorship in Augusta College, and stood with liuter, 
 Durbin, and Tomlinson, he would devote all his net earn- 
 ings to the physical and intellectual benefit of his father's flu n- 
 ily. And when the old people became so ill as to require 
 constant and skillful nursing, he spent his college vacation 
 at home, taking what repose was possible in sleeping upon 
 the rough puncheon-floor of the cabin, with only a blanket 
 under him, ready to rise and minister to the sufferer at the 
 first sign. His INIaker endowed him with an intellect of 
 the highest compass, a robust will, and the strongest sym- 
 pathies. All these qualities are necessary to make the 
 highest order of manhood. All this and more was Dr. Bas- 
 com. I need not allude to his extraordinary eloquence, by 
 which he swayed listening thousands into rapture or terror 
 as his theme changed ; nor to his clear and masterly writing 
 — as, for example, his protest against the action of the ma- 
 jority in the General Conference of 1844. 
 
 " The course adopted in publishing Bishop Bascom's ser- 
 mx)ns has been regretted by many of his best friends. They 
 were by himself called 'Sermons for the Pulpit' — not for 
 the press — and an attempt was made by some of his friends 
 to place them and other productions of his pen in the hands 
 of the now deceased Bishop Wightman, who it is understood 
 wcmld revise them, and supervise their publication. Un- 
 fortunately other counsels prevailed. The preaching style 
 of the Bishop before vast and promiscuous assemblies, owing 
 to his rich imagination and his rare command of words, was 
 often very rapid and highly ornate, while his written style 
 W'as more simple and lucid. He was aware of this, and 
 hence the discrimination he made between pulpit and press. 
 
ElSIIOr OF TIIK M. E. CirURni, SOUTH. 218 
 
 " This critique, however, inust not be regarded as de])re- 
 ciating his published sermons as to tlieir true merits, for 
 taking them as they are issued, they disphiy a high order 
 of mind. 
 
 "Although he justly stood preeminent in the estimation of 
 'Mv. Henry Clay, and others who had a national reputation 
 for learning and eloquence, yet, as his biograplierssay, there 
 were a number of his early associates among the preachers 
 by whom he was not appreciated. His dress and personal 
 appearance did not suit their taste, hence the ^vithholding 
 of his reception and ordination for two years. 
 
 "The election of Dr. Bascom to the episcopacy was a sur- 
 prise to himself more than to the Church. It took place at 
 the session of the General Conference in St. Louis, in 1^~A). 
 The session was a short one, owing to the appearance of 
 cholera in the city as an epidemic. There was a panic 
 among its citizens, many fleeing into the country, some of 
 them having agreed to entertain delegates, who were thus 
 suddenly left without homes for awhile. The death of a 
 delegate from Georgia — Boring — increased the excitement, 
 and the Conference determined to elect a Bishop and close 
 the session as soon as its necessary work could be transact- 
 ed. When the election came off, Bishops Soule and An- 
 drew were sick — the former confined to his bed and very 
 feeble. Neither of them was present. Bishop Capers and 
 the writer presided to the close of the Conference. In leav- 
 ing the room shortly after the result of the ballot had been 
 announced, and the adjournment of the day's work. Dr. 
 Bascom was seen in the rear part of the house sitting alone 
 with his head bowed, and upon approaching him he was 
 f)und weeping and almost convulsed with emotion. He 
 protested that he did not want and could not accept the of- 
 fice — that he was unsuited to it, had never acted as presiding 
 elder or actual chainiuui. His Iial)its of life, his taste, and 
 
214 LIFE OF liOBEPtT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 his purposes were, and had always been, otherwise. Final- 
 ly, he agreed that if upon my consulting the Bishops they 
 should unanimously agree and desire his ordination, which 
 he doubted, he might consent to it ; but certainly not with- 
 out this. At night the Bishops met for consultation. Bish- 
 o}) Soule was in bed, and very ill. Bishop Andrew was re- 
 clining on a sofa when Bishop Capers and I entered, and 
 presently laid before them the state of Dr. Bascom's feel- 
 ings. Capers and myself were decided in our opinion that 
 he ought to submit to ordination. As usual, the younger 
 Bishops being first called upon for their opinions, ive did 
 not hesitate. Our senior, more deliberate, finally agreed 
 that they could not advise the Bishop elect to decline. It 
 is a principle among us not to interfere in the election of 
 our colleagues. We never vote anywhere outside of our 
 private meetings as a college for review and advice. Upon 
 such occasions the Bishop who would shrink from meeting a 
 question frankly and promptly, or who would suffer an hon- 
 est and independent difference of opinion to disturb the har- 
 mony and kind feelings of the body, would be justly es- 
 teemed as unfit for his high position. No such case has 
 occurred among us for the last thirty-six years. I confess 
 that there Avas an apparent reluctance in our senior Bishops 
 in advising Dr. Bascom to conform to the wish of the Con- 
 ference; but I may have been mistaken, or they might have 
 been of his opinion, that he was better adapted for and more 
 needed in other work, while others could fill the office with 
 equal benefit to the Church at large. From whatever rea- 
 son, if any, they seemed to hesitate, they agreed to appoint 
 the time and place of his consecration. Dr. Bascom was 
 appointed to preach, as it turned out to be, his own oVdina- 
 tion discourse, which he did upon the text, ' God forbid that I 
 should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ' — 
 one of the finest efforts of his life. Among other objections 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 2l5 
 
 he had niiule to his acceptance of the office, he said, with 
 strong emotion, 'It will kill me ' — prophetic words. Innnedi- 
 ately after the General Conference he presided at the Missou- 
 ri Conference, thence went into the Indian Territory, then 
 back to St. Louis, and finding his health seriously impaired 
 by constant travel, care, and preaching through the hot 
 summer months, he started home; but reaching Louisville, 
 he was utterly stricken down, and died at Edward Steven- 
 son's, in the fifly-third year of his age. Thus fell in the 
 prime of his life, and the rich and ripened powers of a mind 
 of rare strength and extraordinary compass, a great and 
 mighty prince in our Israel. 
 
 "Am I asked how^ the poor, obscure boy, who ' never went 
 to school after he was twelve years old,' attained a national 
 reputation as an orator, a writer, and for usefulness as a 
 minister of the gospel? I answer, by study and perseverance. 
 There is before me one of the standard books in the course 
 of study in his department of the senior class, which he 
 used wdiile president of a college, which evinces his patient 
 and profound examination of its contents. It is full of notes 
 and exhaustive criticisms. He not only read but digested 
 and assorted the author's thoughts. Yet he was timid to a 
 fault in extemporizing, and could not be drawn into discus- 
 sion upon the Conference-floor. I have seen him put to 
 ccmfusion and silenced by an attack unexpectedly made 
 upon him. Early in his ministry Bascom contracted the 
 habit of memorizing his sermons and his lectures. His 
 celebrated addresses while he traveled as agent for the Af- 
 rican Colonization Society, and his pulpit efforts which so 
 moved listening thousands, were thus delivered. But as 
 his years advanced, memory losing its ])ower of retention, 
 and the failing of the eye rendering reading from the man- 
 uscript absolutely necessary, the pathos of his former years 
 decreased, while his intellectual vigor was undiminished. 
 
216 LIFE OF KOBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 Such must be the result ^vhenever this practice is pursued. 
 We freely admit that his style was too florid to suit the taste 
 of critics ; but take him as he was, and as by divine grace 
 he made himself, he was one of the most brilliant examples 
 of a great and noble self-made man recorded in the history 
 of the American Church." 
 
 No man was more thoroughly versed in the history and 
 constitution of the Church than Bishop Paine. The last 
 extract we j^i^esent from the "Notes of Life" is upon our 
 "Church Polity:" 
 
 "It has been already stated that the General Conference 
 held in May, 1820, was marked by several highly impor- 
 tant incidents. Among these was the rule making presid- 
 ing elders elective, and giving them, by law, authority as a 
 council W'ith the Bishop to station the preachers. This was 
 followed by the election of Joshua Soule to the episcopacy, 
 his refusing to accept the office under this law, the solemn 
 protest of the senior BishojD — McKendree — against it, and 
 the suspension of this rule until the next session of the Gen- 
 eral Conference. 
 
 " The retirement of Bishop McKendree, at his own sugges- 
 tion, and with the consent of the body, from the effective du- 
 ties of his office, but to continue to assist his colleagues as 
 might be practicable and agreeable to himself, was adopted 
 in a series of resolutions highly commendatory of him as a 
 Christian minister and an efficient and approved chief pas- 
 tor of the Church — a compliment as heartily given as it 
 was richly deserved. 
 
 " It may not be amiss to pause awhile here to make a few 
 suggestions: (1) Signs of dissatisfaction with that part of 
 our Church polity involved in the presiding eldership and lay 
 representation had occurred for several years, but not until 
 now had this opposition assumed an attitude so united, and so 
 menacing to the harmony and integrity of the Church. (2) 
 
BlSIIOr OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 217 
 
 This opi)()sition was confined prineii^ally to the Eastern 
 and Northern Conferences — the Western and Southern 
 being more conservative. At the first delegated Gen- 
 eral Conference (1812), resolutions proposing to elect 
 the presiding elders hy the Annual Conferences were 
 debated two days and rejected. The Bishops — Asbury 
 and McKendree — were decidedly opposed to them. (3) 
 At every successive session down to 1828 this question 
 continued to disturb the supreme legislative council of the 
 Church. Since then, and especially in the Southern 
 branch of our common Methodism,*it has done little harm, 
 because we have kept abreast with the sentiment of our 
 wisest and best members. May not the time come when 
 our Northern brethren will need the conservative aid of 
 the South to resist this inroad upon primitive and constitu- 
 tional Methodism ? (4) This measure could not have been 
 carried in 1820 except by the aid of prominent Southern 
 delegates — Dr. Capers and others, for example — induced 
 thereto by appeals for a ^comjyromise peace measure,^ but 
 which, upon . more mature reflection, they felt bound to 
 reconsider and oppose. (5) The principal grounds upon 
 which the senior Bishop and the Bishop elect rested their 
 objections were that the change proposed as to the presiding 
 eldership was radical and revolutionary ; that our episcopacy 
 is an integral and coordinate element in the very constitution 
 and organization of the Church — its chief executive ; that the 
 episcopacy is a general and itinerant oversight, charged with 
 the duties of supervising the whole body and officially re- 
 s[)onsible for the administration of the rules, laws, and 
 usages of the Discipline; that their efficient performance 
 of these duties of administration demand that they shall 
 have the authority to appoint and change those sub-officials 
 who maybe necessary to act in their place according to the 
 law; that it would be unreasonable and unjust to iiiijxiso 
 
218 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 upon a Bishop the duty of conserving the polity and liar- 
 nionious working of our economy, and subject him to higli 
 penalty for alleged failure, unless he could select and dis- 
 miss the persons through whom, in his necessary absence, 
 the complicated and onerous duties would devolve of in- 
 structing and controlling the junior pastoi's under him. 
 In all well-organized governments, pretending to secure 
 freedom to their subjects, there must be a division of offi- 
 cial powers; and like every machine which, however well 
 constructed, is useless, and consequently a practical failure, 
 unless a moving power- is attached to it adequate to its har- 
 monious operation, so of governments, civil and ecclesias- 
 tical. If there be an excess of propelling force, there is 
 danger; if too little, it is useless. In the first place, we 
 have to fear a despotism; in the last, anarchy. In our 
 civil government we distribute the control of the system 
 among three distinct coordinate heads, or departments — 
 the legislative, or law-making, State and national, under 
 constitutional restrictions ; the executive, of which the Pres- 
 ident is chief ; and the judiciary, or Supreme Court. These 
 all act in their respective departments through appointees; 
 where they cannot do so personally, they have power to a})- 
 puint, change, and oversee them, their official responsibilities 
 require the right of appointing them. There is, however, 
 a marked difference between the constitution of our Churcli 
 aud of our civil govel*nment; for while the latter restricts 
 t]ie power of the Federal Government from doing any thing 
 excepting such as pertains to the general welfare, reserving 
 the remainder of power to the people or the States respect- 
 ively, the former confers plenary, not to say unlimited, au- 
 thority upon its supreme legislative department, subject to 
 only a few limitations; and it is worthy of remark that one 
 of these few restrictions is the positive proliibition of the 
 power to ' do away episcopacy, or destroy the pla^i of our itin- 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH. SOUTH. 210 
 
 erant general superintendency: Agiiin, our Church govern- 
 ment differ!^ ^videly from other forms of episcopal regime. 
 Take the Protestant Episcopal, for instance. They claim a 
 divine right and an unbroken tactual succession of persons 
 as Bishops from the apostles. We hold that no such suc- 
 cession can be traced, or is necessary ; that, on the contrary, 
 the true succession, instead of being personal, is that of 
 scriptural doctrine, experience, and practice, affirmed and 
 authorized by a regularly organized Christian Church for 
 the sole purpose of spreading and perpetuating the kingdom 
 of God over the world, and that thus we follow scriptural 
 analogy and the usage of the primitive Church. Expedi- 
 ency and practical utility combine with the great purpose 
 and early usages of the Church in sustaining our claim. 
 
 "Our system also recognizes its ministers as coming up 
 by nomination from its membership as distinguished from 
 its high officials. It in effect says, as did the apostles on a 
 memorable occasion, ' Choose ye out seven men from among 
 yourselves whom we may appoint/ etc. ^Vhile no one in 
 our Church can be licensed to preach, or ordained to office, 
 without a regular examination and election emanating from 
 the Church, I believe a Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal 
 Church can ordain at his discretion. 
 
 "Another difference is, our whole economy is essentially 
 itinerant, our episcopacy is a general itinerancy— general, 
 not partial or local ; a Bishop is such in every part of the 
 Church — has rights and functions equally regular and valid 
 everywhere ; itinerant instead of local or diocesan. Like 
 his appointees, he must travel as well as preach and oversee 
 his charge. For a failure to discharge all these duties, or 
 any of them, he is subject to arrest and deposition. Al 
 each General Conference the records of all the Annual 
 Conferences are critically examined; the action of these 
 bodies, and especially the decisions made on all questions 
 
220 lifp: of eobert paine, d.d. 
 
 of law, carefully noted, and if disapproved are formally 
 reported, and may be the ground of trial and expulsion of 
 the Bishop presiding. Is it not right that under such re- 
 sponsibilities he should be alloAved to select his advisers and 
 assistants in overseeing the charge intrusted to his hands? 
 A\'ould not the change sought for so cripple and modify our 
 episcopacy as to create a serious obstacle to the efficient 
 exercise of its power? So thought Asbury, Bruce, ]\Ic- 
 Kendree, and Soule, and a great majority in the Church, 
 South. 
 
 " During the pendency of this controversy a very impor- 
 tant point was raised, involving the question of settling a 
 constitutional law when the General Conference adopts and 
 persists in maintaining an act which the Bishojis as firmly 
 hold to be unconstitutional, and therefore null and void. 
 For instance, the third article of the Constitution, on the 
 organization of a delegated general legislative body, thus 
 restricts and limits its action: 'They shall not change or 
 alter any part or rule of our government so as to do away 
 episcopacy, or destroy the plan of our itinerant general 
 superintendency.' While it was admitted that these sus- 
 pended rules may not do away episcopacy, it was held 
 by Asbury, McKendree, Soule, and generally by our most 
 thoughtful Southern preachers, that in withdrawing the 
 presiding eldership from the aid and control of the Bishoi)s 
 the harmonious and effective operation of our plan of itin- 
 erant general superintendency would be virtually destroyed, 
 and the power of the episcopacy crippled. Who was to de- 
 cide this issue? If the Bishops persisted in exercising their 
 former authority, they could not enforce it against the An- 
 nual Conferences and the dominant party of the General 
 Conference. And it would be absurd, as w^ell as anomalous, 
 for a delegated legislative body to sit in judgment upon the 
 constitutionality of their own enactments. Bishop ^IcKen- 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CIIURCFI, SOUTH. 221 
 
 dree therefore deterniined to address a circular to each An- 
 nual Conference, and call upon thcni, as the original source 
 of delei^ated j)ower, to determine the vexed question. This 
 course had been successfully resorted to in a previous case; 
 but fortunately, before the responses from the Annual Con- 
 ferences came, by the overwhelming majority of the General 
 Conference of 1828 these resolutions were annulled, and, let 
 us hope, forever settled."' 
 
222 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 Gbnekal Coxference of 1866 — Changes Made — Lay 
 Element — New Bishops. 
 
 AFTER his round of Conferences in the fall and winter 
 of 1865-66, he went to the General Conference which 
 met in New Orleans in x\.pril, 1866. This Conference gave 
 to the Church lay delegation. No wiser addition was 
 ever made to the life and energy of a Church organization. 
 While it increased the importance of the lay element in our 
 Church and added largely to its influence, it did not detract 
 in the least from the influence of the clergy. Dr. Palmer, 
 the distinguished Presbyterian minister of New Orleans, 
 who witnessed the whole proceeding spoke of it in the high- 
 est terms of commendation. He declared it to be an ex- 
 ample of the moral sublime, and that great good would re- 
 sult from utilizing this important element in the Church. 
 And his declaration has been found in all respects a true 
 prophecy. We could not now do without this important 
 element in our General Conference. It is conservative; it 
 is practical ; it is eminently helpful. This change in our 
 Church- polity met with the hearty approbation of Bishop 
 Paine. He was always progressive, as well as highly con- 
 servative. He was not impetuous. He belonged to that 
 class* of ministers of whom the Apostle Paul was a type. 
 He was altogether unlike the impetuous Peter. He seldom 
 had to repent at leisure of what he had done in haste. His 
 sound judgment approved of a measure which would bring 
 to the front so much talent and so much piety, and whic^h 
 for near three-quarters of a century had been suflered to lie 
 dormant. The change has worked as well as its most san- 
 
 J 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURrir, SOUTH. 223 
 
 guine friends could have anticipated. It was at this Con- 
 ference, amid great excitement and confusion, that he took 
 the chair at the earnest request of one of his colleagues 
 whose modesty had rendered him unequal to the task of 
 bringing order out of such confusion. He showed himself 
 every inch a Bishop. Combining mildness and dignity with 
 a power to command which few men have ever surpassed, he 
 soon restored order; and holding the reins with a firm and 
 steady hand, he caused the business to move on without a jar 
 to the end of the session. Said one eye-witness to the writer : 
 " I never saw^ authority wielded Avith such ease and such 
 1 erfect success in my life." At this Conference the vener- 
 able Bishop Andrew asked to be relieved from active work. 
 He had been a Bishop thirty-four years. He had been 
 equal to every emergency. His purity of life had never 
 been surpassed in the history of the Church. He was a 
 saintly man. He had wielded a wide and pure influence in 
 his day. He had as little to regret as almost any "man that 
 had filled the episcopal chair. His address asking to be re- 
 lieved deeply afl?ected the Conference. They saw a grand 
 old hero retiring from the strife to rest on his arms. They 
 parted from him with tears of tenderest sympathy. 
 
 Then Bishop Early asked also to be placed in the same 
 relation. He chafed under the pressure of infirmities which 
 he could not resist. He did not wish to rest. He wanted 
 to work on and die in the field. But acting under the a*d- 
 vice of his best and ^visest friends, he retired regretting to 
 the last that the necessity was upon him. Then it became 
 necessary to elect four additional Bishops. William May 
 AVightman, of Alabama, then President of Greensboro Uni- 
 versity; Enoch Mather Marvin, of Texas; David Seth Dog- 
 gett, of Virginia; and Holland Nimmons McTyeire, of 
 Alabama, were elected. These were all good men and true, 
 Marvin was the great evangelist. He encompassed the 
 
224 LIFE OF ROBERT RAINE, D.D. 
 
 globe and fell at last at his post, beloved and honored by 
 all. Doggett was the profound theologian and eloquent 
 pulpit orator; Wightman, the accomplished scholar, the 
 refined Christian gentleman, and the elegant writer; and 
 McTyeire was the great debater, the original thinker, the 
 superior parliamentarian and thorough ecclesiastical lawyer. 
 The last named is still active, laborious, and useful; the 
 others have all gone to their reward. Four better men 
 could not have been placed in this high and responsible of- 
 fice. They were all brave men, tried and true. They un- 
 derstood well the needs of the Church at this important 
 juncture, and went at once to work to build up the waste 
 places and rehabilitate a Church whose very existence had 
 been threatened. Bishop Paine was now the active Senior 
 Bishop. All confided in him. He had the perfect confi- 
 dence of his colleagues and of the whole Church. The 
 Episcopal College was strong, vigorous, active. Church 
 affairs progressed well. Doctors McFerrin and Sehon were 
 the active and popular Missionary Secretaries. The Church 
 moved. The Xashville Christian Advocate was committed 
 to Dr. Summers, and Dr. A. H. Bedford was placed in 
 charge of the Book Concern. Soon prosperity succeeded 
 the terrible dearth produced by the w^ar. The District 
 Conferences brought the Bishops more closely in contact 
 with the people. Gracious revivals of religion added many 
 new members to the Church. Old educational enterprises 
 were still carried forward, and new ones were undertaken. 
 Soon all fears subsided as to the permanency and success of. 
 the Church. To no living man Avas this prosperity due 
 more than to Bishop Robert Paine. During the summer of 
 1866 he went all over the State of Mississippi preaching as 
 he went. He had great liberty and power. There were 
 many revivals and many converts. He preached at Vicks- 
 burg, Grenada, Holly Springs, Oxford, Jackson, Canton, 
 
BISIIOr OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 225 
 
 Crystal Si)rin,frs, Hazleliiirst, Beauregard, ^Yeston, Brook- 
 haven, lii'aiidon, and at many placos in the eoiintrv, in 
 churches and under arl)()is. Tlius was the Church edified 
 and many sinners turned from darkness to light. He was 
 appn^aching the close of the sixty-seventh year of his labori- 
 ous life, and was never more active and never more useful. 
 Mourners were called, and then led to Christ and enabled 
 to rejoice in the forgiveness of sin and the witness of the 
 Holy Spirit. At one meeting there were forty converts, and 
 all along this preaching tour he was successful in winning 
 souls. At Corinth, Miss., he was again robbed, and on an- 
 other part of the route the train was derailed. Out of all 
 these perils he was brought by that special Providence in 
 which he so confidently trusted. Toward the close of the 
 year 1866 he presided at the Memphis Conference at Jack- 
 son, Tenn., the Mississippi Conference at Brookhaven, Miss., 
 and the Louisiana Conference at Baton Rouge. A siuirular 
 legal question came up for episcopal decision at the Missis- 
 sippi Conference. It was this: 
 
 Can a member of the Conference accused of an offense alleged to 
 have been committed three years ago, and which lias been rumored 
 and reported for more than two years but never dealt with according 
 to law, be brought to trial in any otlier method than is i>nni(led for 
 in the Discipline of the Church? James McLaurin, 
 
 ir. II. MoXTGOMERY. 
 
 Brookhaven, LSiJG. 
 
 In reply to the above, I have to say that of course the method of 
 trial in all cases must be according to the Discipline of the Churcli. 
 
 R. Paine. 
 
 December, 18G6. 
 
 "Of course" the Bishop decided in favor of adhering to 
 the Discipline. This was the rule of his life. He followed 
 the old paths. Emulating his exampb>, the ministers and 
 members of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, will 
 never depart from the letter or spirit of the Discipline. To 
 15 
 
226 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 him the most alarming feature in the history of the times 
 was the disposition on the part of many to make some " new 
 departure" either in the doctrine or discipline of the Church. 
 "Let us keep our rules and follow our doctrines," were the 
 great points to be observed throughout the Church. Let 
 all who are disposed to reject the one and neglect the other 
 remember that he never felt safe but in the observance of 
 both. Without servility he clung to the great standards of 
 Methodism ; let his sons in the gospel follow his footsteps. 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 227 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 Southern University — Bishop Soule's Death — Memorial by 
 
 Bishop Paine. 
 
 EARLY in 1867 a meeting of the Board of Trustees was 
 held at Greensboro, Ala., to elect a President for the 
 Southern University to succeed Bishop Wightman. Bishop 
 Paine, \vho from the beginning had taken the deepest in- 
 terest in this institution, was present. Dr. L. C. Garland 
 was elected. He was present, and after mature consideration 
 declined the office. This was a great disappointment to the 
 friends of the university. Dr. Garland was at that time 
 connected with the University of Mississippi. He was a 
 man of the highest culture, and was well known in Alabama 
 as an educator inferior to none. 
 
 Immediately after his return home, on March 8th, the 
 Bishop learned that Bishop Soule had been called from labor 
 to reward. He enters in his diary just these words : " Bishop 
 Soule reported dead. Great and good man — the noblest of 
 his race." On Sunday, April 7th, he preached the memorial 
 discourse of Bishop Soule. As this is an excellent tril)ute 
 to one the story of whose life has never been told, I have 
 concluded to make it a part of the life of Bishop Paine. It 
 is very proper that these two great men should be thus in- 
 dissolubly joined. Let the wreath prepared by the hand of 
 Bishop Paine and placed upon the grave of his venerable 
 colleague be preserved here as a fitting memorial of both : 
 
 "At the request of this Church and congregation, I pur- 
 pose to devote this hour to a memorial discourse on the 
 character of the late Joshua Soule, Senior Bishop of the 
 Methodist Episcopal Church, South. The text suggested as 
 
228 LIFE OF ROBERT FAINE, D.T). 
 
 apposite to the occasion is Joshua xxiv. 31 : 'And Israel 
 served the Loid all the days of Joshua, and all the days of 
 the elders that overlived Joshua.' ' Know ye not that there 
 is a prince and a great man fallen this day in Israel?' A 
 star of the first magnitude has set. After a long and brill- 
 iant circuit of more than seventy years through our ecclesi- 
 astical hemisphere, Bishop Soule has calmly and majes- 
 tically sunk below the horizon, leaving the heavens still 
 glowing with the reflection of his radiant history. A name 
 familiar as a household Avord to every Methodist, and known 
 and honored throughout America and Europe as a leader 
 of one of the hosts of Israel, is stricken from the roll of the 
 living, and is transferred to the noble list of those who hav- 
 ing ' fought the good fight' are crowned by the great Captain 
 as victors forever. A truly great and useful man is, next 
 to divine grace, the richest and rarest gift of God to hu- 
 manity. And when these qualities are vigorously, and for 
 a long period, wielded in the discharge of the duties of a 
 high and holy oflice, why may not the children and friends 
 of Ziou unite in solemn assembly to embalm and perpetuate 
 the memory by rehearsing the deeds of their venerated but 
 departed friend and father? Surely he must be greatly de- 
 ficient in the feeling of reverence for exalted virtue, and 
 have a low standard of friendship and of affection, who 
 would not consent to mark the exit of such a man with an 
 appropriate expression of an appreciative memorial, and by 
 so doing give to a noble character its merited indorsement. 
 We honor ourselves in honoring the w^orthy dead. It is due 
 to the living, as well as to the departed. And while we 
 would jealously guard the pulpit from desecration by the 
 discussion of inappropriate subjects, and especially against 
 all falsely flattering eulogies of frail humanity, and in this 
 particular case are admonished as to tJie delicacy of the 
 task before us, by the well-known and oft-repeated feeling^i 
 
BISHOI' OF TJIK M. K. CIIL KCIF, SOITII. 229 
 
 of the deceased against ostentatious obseijuies and unde- 
 served panei!:yrics, both in funerals and biographies, and 
 do freely admit that all excesses of this kind violate both 
 good taste and gospel simplicity, yet are we equally confi- 
 dent that neither is infracted by a calm and truthful por- 
 traiture of the lives and deaths of the truly exemplary and 
 devoted servants of God. The Bible is full of such memori- 
 als, and even our blessed Redeemer himself paused to por- 
 tray the character of his beloved and stern forerunner. 
 Prompted both by affection and piety, by our respect for 
 exalted virtue, and by the feeling which yearns to perpetu- 
 ate the memory of the loved and the lost, and which in- 
 stinctively recoils against consigning to cold oblivion the 
 names and deeds which deserve imperishable remembrance, 
 Ave meet to-day to lay our simple wreath of heart-felt Chris- 
 tian sympathy and hallowed respect on the tomb of Bishoji 
 Soule. 
 
 "Joshua Soule was the fifth son of Joshua and Mary Soule, 
 and Avas born August 1, 1781, in Bristol, Maine, then a 
 province of Massachusetts. His grandfather was a descend- 
 ant of Georofe Soule, one of the Piltrrim fathers who came 
 from England in the Mayflower. His father was for thirty 
 years the captain of a vessel, and only ceased to follow a 
 sea-faring life upon the loss of his vessel during the Rev- 
 olutionary war. Agriculture was his em|)loyment after- 
 ward. He and his wife were members of the Old Kirk, or 
 Scotch Presbyterian Church. 
 
 "Joshua Soule was from his early youth remarkable for 
 his sedateness — ' fearing the Lord.' He read his Bible nuich ; 
 was impressed with its holy truths, and never in his life 
 swore an oath. Profanity always horrified him. He never 
 knew the taste of whisky ; and what is still more remark- 
 able, swine's flesh was never used at his father's table, nor 
 eaten by his son during his long life. 
 
230 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.T). 
 
 "The laborious and indomitable Jesse Lee, about 1793, 
 visited that part of Kew England, and was the first ^leth- 
 odist preacher young Joshua ever heard. Under the min- 
 istry of Lee, Thomas Cope, the two Hulls, Philip Wagger, and 
 other Methodist preachers, he became enlightened and awak- 
 ened, abandoned the stringent Calvinistic dogmas of the Old 
 Kirk school, and earnestly sought for divine forgiveness. A 
 peculiarity of his religious history is that he could never 
 state the exact hour or day of his conversion; he knew the 
 week during which his burdened soul experienced relief, but 
 could not name the exact time when this great event oc- 
 curred. After a severe mental struggle, he received the 
 'witness of the Spirit' while praying in secret in the morn- 
 infj before sunrise, and then and there became conscious of 
 his acceptance with God. This inward witness and sense of 
 divine favor he retained to the end of his life. After due 
 examination as to doctrines, and prayerful consideration of 
 his duty, he resolved to join the Methodist Church, but was 
 violently opposed by his parents and friends. Finally, how- 
 ever, by his prudence and piety he induced his father to 
 hear and examine into the doctrines taught by the Meth- 
 odist preachers; and the result was the conversion of his 
 parents and their unitingwith him in the Methodist Church. 
 Henceforth his father's house became a home for the 
 preachers, and a stated place of preaching. These events 
 occurred in the spring of 1797. 
 
 " In 1798 he was licensed to preach, recommended for the 
 itinerancy, and traveled under the presiding elder that year. 
 In June, 1799, he was admitted on trial in the New En- 
 gland Conference, and with Timothy Merritt, as his colleague, 
 traveled Portland Circuit. In 1800 he was alone on Union 
 E-iver Circuit. In 1801 his appointment was near Cape 
 Cod. He was ordained deacon at the close of his second 
 year, by Bishop Wliatcoat, and at the end of his fourth yeaj' 
 
BlSflOP OF THE M. E. OHUKCH, SOUTH. 231 
 
 the same Bishop ordained him elder. In 1803, and while 
 filling his fifth year's work, he was married to Miss Sarah 
 Allen, in Providence, Rhode Island, with whom he spent 
 fifty-four years of married happiness, and who, in 1857, 
 went before him to paradise. 
 
 "In 1805 he was made a presiding elder, and his energy, 
 fidelity, and great administrative talents became so obvious 
 as to lead to his continuance in that ofl^ce with the excep- 
 tion of one year when he was stationed in Lynn, Mass., until 
 1816, when he was made Book Agent and editor of the 
 MetJiodist Magazine by the General Conference. He was a 
 member of the General Conference of 1808, held in Bal- 
 timore, and drew up the constitution which still stands as 
 such in the Discipline, and is a monument of his wisdom. 
 His responsibilities and embarrassments as agent and ed- 
 itor were very gr^at. Almost every thing was needed, and 
 yet he not only saved the ' Concern ' from bankruptcy, or- 
 ganized and systematized the Publishing House and placed 
 it upon a sure basis, but edited with remarkable ability the 
 Magazine as well as the various books which were brought 
 out under his supervision. Upon the expiration of four 
 years — at the General Conference of 1820 — he was elected 
 Bishop of the Church, but declined to accept the office. 
 This refusal to receive consecration as a Bishop was owing 
 to the adoption of certain changes in the economy of the 
 Church which he regarded as unconstitutional, tending to 
 render the episcopacy inefficient, and destroy the whole 
 itinerant system. Regarding the action of the General 
 Conference in the premises as subversive of the consti- 
 tutional division of powers, infringing upon the powers and 
 privileges of the episcopacy to such an extent that it would 
 be impossible to carry out efiectually ' the plan of our itiner- 
 ant general superintendency,' he felt constrained to state to 
 the General Conference his views of their action, and to 
 
232 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 decline consecration. Many leading and excellent menibeis 
 of the body, and several of the Bishops, had favored the 
 action — as a peace measure — i. e., to satisfy the radicalism of 
 the Northern representatives of the Church, and much sur- 
 prise and dissatisfaction was expressed at his course. But 
 sustained by his own clear convictions of right and duty, as 
 well as by the concurrence of the senior Bishop, McKendree, 
 and many of the Southern and Western delegates, he rested 
 satisfied in his own sense of duty discharged. He preferred 
 a good conscience to office. 
 
 "In the interval between 1820 and 1824 he was stationed 
 in the cities of New York and Baltimore. It was in May, 
 1824, at the General Conference held in Baltimore, that the 
 speaker first formed his acquaintance. At this Conference 
 he was again elected to the episcopal office ; and as the ob- 
 jectionable action of the last General Conference had become 
 unpopular and could not be reenacted after its suspension 
 for the j^ast four years, many of those who originally favored 
 the 'suspended resolutions' had changed their views, he felt 
 it his duty no longer to withhold his consent, and was or- 
 dained Bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church. 
 
 " Prior and up to the session of 1844, Bishop Soule had 
 been the leading spirit of the episcopacy. His travels and 
 labors extended over all sections of the United States, and 
 he was admired and revered wherever he went. His min- 
 istry was in demonstration of the Spirit and with power. 
 He presided with consummate dignity and ease in the An- 
 nual and General Conferences, maintained the integrity and 
 efficiency of the discipline of the Church both by his pre- 
 cepts and example, watched over every interest of every 
 section of the Church Avith untiring zeal, and had the high- 
 est confidence and esteem of the great body of citizens as 
 well as Christians throughout the land. *But when the ma- 
 jority of the General Conference of 1844 determined to 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. ' 233 
 
 overlea}) the barriers of the law and constitution of the 
 Church by virtually deposing Bishop Andrew without 
 charges or form of trial— by a simple resolution declaring 
 him, in his official character, unacceptable to the Church in 
 consequence of his connection with slavery by his marriairo 
 with a lady owning a few slaves— he threw himself as pacifi- 
 cator into the path of the tempest, and endeavored to preserve 
 the unity of the Church by postponing action on the subject 
 until the voice of the Church could be heard. All his col- 
 leagues at first joined him in the effort; but it Avas soon 
 found that nothing could avert extreme measures. The 
 majority rushed to consummate their purpose, and the mi- 
 nority were obliged to seek redress in a separation from their 
 former relations. After the question of separation had been 
 fairly submitted to the Southern Church according to the 
 plan agreed upon by a large majority of the General Con- 
 ference, and acting under the provisions of that plan, the 
 convention was held and the Southern Methodist Episco- 
 pal Church was organized in 1846 in Petersburg, Va. 
 Bishop Soule adhered to it, as he had a right to do un- 
 der that compact, and began the exercise of his office as 
 a Bishop in our Church. Rising superior to early prej- 
 udices, to local and personal attachments, to every selfish 
 and inferior consideration, deliberately and with a degree 
 of moral sublimity of principle seldom equaled, he united 
 himself with the weaker party— took up his residence amidst 
 strangers, and fi-eely and fully identified himself with the 
 fortunes of the Southern Church. He planted himself upon 
 the constitution he had reported, and which had been adopted 
 thirty-six years previously, and upon that altar laid himself 
 as a sacrifice to princi|)le. AV^ith him, as with others, it was 
 Jiot attachment to slavery, as has often been asserted, but 
 devotion to constitiftional law, to ecjual riglits, and to the 
 integrity of Church compacts. He never did and nevei 
 
234 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 would owD a slave. But he was the Bishop of the whole 
 Church, and when it was divided he felt bound to stand by 
 the right, if it was the weak side. Noble, heroic man ! Never 
 shall we forget the scene when he ani^unced his resolution 
 to immolate himself upon the altar of the constitution and 
 abide by the fate of his Southern brethren. We all know 
 how he has demeaned himself since then; how — althougli 
 the senior Bishop of the college, aged, and often and in 
 various ways deeply afflicted — he has kept in the front rank 
 in planning and laboring for the Church. 
 
 "The parallelism between Joshua, the heroic son of Nun, 
 and our departed Bishop is remarkable. For many long 
 and trying years the trusted friend and faithful minister of 
 Moses, whose fidelity and courage on one occasion sought to 
 save his people from a great error and consequent calamities ; 
 who upon the death of Moses became his successor and the 
 successful leader of Israel, and the founder and honored 
 ruler of an empire established by his wisdom and courage ; 
 who was the connecting link between the old and the new 
 dynasties, and whose long, laborious, and useful life closed 
 at last amidst the tears and regrets of the whole nation — 
 such a life is remarkably similar to the history of our lately 
 departed Bishop. Both of them were singularly and di- 
 vinely adapted to the tasks imposed upon them by the prov- 
 idence of God ; both w^ere raised up to meet the great emer- 
 gencies of their times, and were faithftd in all their high 
 and holy trusts; both were rulers in Israel, long spared to 
 go in and come out among their respective charges ; and both 
 were brave, firm of heart, and of great common sense and 
 devoted piety. The parallelism also holds good in their 
 deaths as in their lives. Both lived amidst the increasing 
 veneration of their respective generations, and both died 
 resigned and prei)ared' amidst the regrets of their peoples, 
 leaving them the rich legacy of exalted principles illustrated 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. K. dlTTKCH, SOUTH. 235 
 
 by noble and useful deeds. And may we not fondly hope, 
 while we devoutly pray, that as the influence of the former 
 was effective, all his days and all the days of the elders that 
 overlived him, in leading Israel to fear and serve God, even 
 ji people so deficient in knowledge and moral stability, so 
 the influence of our beloved and honored Joshua will never 
 be lost upon our Christian people, but that it will increase as 
 time advances, and be permanent as the Church itself The 
 ai-chitect of a pure and n()l)le life is posterity's greatest ben- 
 efactor, for he erects a monument which marks the way and 
 guides the steps of a hundred generations through the wilder- 
 ness of life to glory and to God. 
 
 " The person of Bishop Soule was imposing. He was 
 about six feet high ; his breast broad and deep ; his head ex- 
 traordinarily large — so large that he was obliged to have a 
 block made specially for the manufacture of his hats; his 
 cheek-bones wide; his forehead high; his mouth and chin 
 expressive of firmness; his eyes deeply set, beaming with 
 intellect, bespeaking decision, and overhung with a massive 
 brow fringed with long and heavy eyebrows and lashes 
 whose motions indicated unmistakably his feelings. His 
 whole physical structure was perfectly developed, evincing 
 great muscular power and capabilities of action and endur- 
 ance. The whole exterior man was impressive and com- 
 manding — a fit temple for the noble soul that inhabited it I 
 His manner appeared to strangers reserved, but always 
 courtly and dignified. Vice and folly_ stood abaslied in his 
 presence; he seemed intuitively to read the character of 
 men, and was a terror to the lazy and unftiithful young 
 preachers who came before him in the examination of their 
 characters at tlie Annual Conferences. His articulation 
 was slow and distinct; his voice a deep baritone, singularly 
 sonorous and finely modulated. While preaching his erect 
 attitude, few and significant gesticulations, his rich, deep- 
 
236 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 toned and musical voice, his perfect self-command, combined 
 with his profound thoughts and associated in the minds of 
 the auditory with the grandeur and goodness of the speaker, 
 imparted to his ministry a sublime moral power. All felt 
 that he had authority to speak for God, for his walk and 
 conversation were in heaven; that he had a right to 're- 
 prove, rebuke, and exhort' saints and sinners, for his whole 
 life was blameless; and that if any man had he certainly 
 had the right to counsel and warn the Church to whose ex- 
 clusive welfare he had unreservedly devoted his whole en- 
 ergies and means through a long, laborious, and eventful life. 
 We do not know what advantages he derived from early 
 education, nor the extent of his subsequent literary atta.in- 
 ments. We are aware that he became an itinerant preaclier 
 at seventeen years of age, and that for several years his 
 work required long and fatiguing rides through a new and 
 rough country, w here, the presumption is, he had but limited 
 access to books and but little time to devote to them. But 
 we do know that he studied the ancient languages and the 
 great English classics, with which he retained familiarity to 
 the last. He wrote and spoke with much correctness, force, 
 and frequently with elegance. Judging from the ability 
 he displayed as an editor of books and the Magazine, his 
 published essays and sermons, he was a good scholar in all 
 the departments of learning pertaining to his official duties,, 
 both of the pulpit and the press. His private letters to his 
 old and devoted friend Bishop McKendree, of which we 
 have read and noW' have in our possession a great many 
 specimens, display his mental and moral peculiarities very 
 clearly. Even his handwriting, so bold, uniform, and free 
 from blots and errors, symbolizes the man. Indeed, how- 
 ever different and difficult the tasks which his varied and 
 eventful life imi)oscd upon him, lie was always found equal 
 to their proper performance. Whether as a manager of a 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CIIURCir, SOUTH. 237 
 
 grent and complicated enterprise, as })reaclier, editor, finan- 
 cier, or Bishop, he never faiUd ol' liigh success. And thus 
 he stood the true test of real greatness. We do not pretend 
 that he exceeded all othei's in all or either of these partic- 
 ulars, and we disclaim lor him the fascinating faculty of 
 high imaginative power; but we do claim that in masculine 
 strength of intellect, in wide range and grand grasp of 
 thought, in clearness, boldness, and force of expression, as 
 Mcll as in purity, dignity, and consistency of a long and use- 
 ful life, few have ever surpassed him. God made him for a 
 leader and commander of the people, and grace made him a 
 great captain in Israel. 
 
 " If it may be allowed us to enter into the sanctuary of 
 his social and domestic relations, we can bear testimony, 
 from an intiniate acquaintance of more than forty years, 
 that socially he was eminently agreeable. He was simple 
 in his tastes and habits, kind and sympathizing in his 
 feelings; and while exacting upon himself as to all his own 
 duties, and firm in requiring of others, especially of preachers, 
 a strict compliance with all the obligations involved in their 
 official vows — yet even when in obedience to the decisions 
 of the Conferences he has been compelled to administer a 
 public reproof to an unfortunate delinquent, we have heard 
 his voice quaver with emotion and have seen the tears stream 
 down his face. The stern, cast-iron man was gentle and 
 tender as a loving mother at heart. He indulged no en- 
 mities or rivalries ; no envy nor self-complacent airs of supe- 
 riority; no ambition, no low greed of gain; no hankering 
 for luxury and ease. Through life, and to the very last, 
 willing — yea, anxious — to labor and, if need be, die in his 
 beloved Master's work. 
 
 "The friendship of such a soul might be expected to bo 
 true and hearty. He had no trouble with his colleagues. 
 He respected and loved them all. But there was a warmth 
 
238 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 and cordiality of esteem and love between himself and 
 Bishop McKeudree which was beautiful. It transcended 
 the love of Jonathan and David. In his conjugal relation 
 he was happy. A helpmeet in every respect was his wife ; 
 and so fully was she imbued with his feelings, and so con- 
 fident that in his long and frequent absences from his family 
 he was but doing his duty, that she strove as best she could 
 to supply the want of his domestic influence by untiring 
 devotion to the interest of their large family. She was a 
 fit partner for her noble husband. All Avho knew them can 
 attest how happily they lived together, and how deeply he 
 felt her loss when in 1857 she was called away. 
 
 " His election and consecration to the episcopal oflftce oc- 
 curred, as already stated, in 1824, and he immediately there- 
 after left his fiimily, then residing in Baltimore, and taking 
 a Avide range of Conferences in those sections of the country 
 where the inconveniences and difl[iculties of traveling Avere 
 the greatest, he traversed the North-Avest, the West, and 
 South, A^isiting the Indian tribes on our AA'estern border, and 
 so fi^illy devoted his time to his official AA^ork that he Avas 
 absent from his family ele\"en months in the year. And 
 this is a fair sample of his labors for many successive years. 
 So thoroughly giA'en up Avas he to his high and holy Avork 
 that Avhen from excessive labor and exposure it became im- 
 possible for him to endure the fatigue of traA^eling on land, 
 he volunteered to visit California, and actually did so Avhen 
 his friends ttiought he Avould die on the Avay. His reply to 
 remonstrances against the journey was: 'I shall start, sir, 
 and Avould as soon be buried in the Pacific Ocean as in 
 Westminster Abbey.' Indeed, such AAas his love of the 
 ocean — having inherited from his father a fondness for the 
 dark blue sea — that many of us suspected that he, like Dr. 
 Coke, preferred to make the coral bed his tomb. 
 
 "It need scarcely be said that he Avas a model Bisliop. 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 2^9 
 
 He combined every quality for the office. His thorough ac- 
 quaintance ^^■ith the organic laws of tlie C'hiii'cli, with its 
 history and k^gishxtion — having been a member of every 
 General Conference since 1804 — 'his giant intellect, the 
 de])th and breadth of his learning, the sincerity, simplicity, 
 and steadfastness of his Christian faith, the purity of his 
 life, his untiring zeal, his indomitable perseverance' and in- 
 corruptible integrity, all united to fit him for the office. 
 And above all, his love to Christ, and his unreserved ded- 
 ication of soul and body, time and talents, to his beloved 
 Methodism as the means of 'spreading scriptural holiness 
 over these lands,' gave earnestness, sublimity, and success to 
 his labors as a divinely appointed episcopos. 
 
 " Bishop Soule's thorough acquaintance with ecclesiastical 
 history, and especially ^vith the history, laws, and usages of 
 Methodism ; his ^miliarity with the rules of order governing 
 deliberative bodies ; his wonderful self-possession and strict 
 impartiality, adapted him to the office of president of tlie 
 Conferences. And then his courteous, dignified, and deeply 
 impressive manner most admirably fitted him for the chair. 
 In the stationing council — or, as it is fi'equently called the 
 Bishops cabinet — where the utmost patience, prudence, and 
 impartiality are demanded, and where sound judgment and 
 great firmness should be blended with true love for the 
 Church and sympathy for the preachers and their families, 
 he was preeminently (pialified to preside. And it is pre- 
 sumed that in the tens of thousands of appointments made 
 by him during more than forty years of his episcopacy, no 
 one ever deliberately believed that Bishop Soule had given 
 him his appointment, however hard and inconvenient it 
 might have been, from any other motive than the glory of 
 God and the good of the Church. For more than twenty 
 years we have traveled over the fields of his operations, have 
 tracked his paths from the Atlantic to the far West among 
 
240 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 the Indian tribes, and everywhere we have found his name 
 a tower of strength, and his memory an inspiration and a 
 blessing to the preachers and members. And now that full 
 of years and honors he has slowly sunk to the grave, the 
 millions of Methodists throughout the world are exclaiming, 
 ' Know ye not that a prince and a great man has fallen in 
 Israel?' while we of the Church, South, especially realize 
 the bereavement, and are constrained to say, Our heroic and 
 faithful leader, our brave and noble Joshua, has fallen in 
 front of our host. 
 
 " Such is our feeble and imperfect memorial of the great 
 and good Bishop Soule, one whom we have long regarded, 
 taken in the entireness of his history, as the noblest specimen 
 of our humanity we have ever known. That such a man, 
 after seventy years of uninterrupted and entire consecration 
 to the noblest ends that ever the mind conceived, should die 
 prepared and resigned, might be reasonably expected. And 
 thus it was. For many years he was a great sufferer. Rheu- 
 matism, asthma, and erysipelas alternately tortured him. 
 AVe remember to have overtaken him travelin(>: with his 
 faithful wife in a little wagon from Lebanon, Ohio, to the 
 city of Baltimore, to attend the General Conference in 1840. 
 Unable to sit up or lie down, and the cover of the vehicle 
 being too low to allow him to stand up, he performed the 
 entire journey upon his knees. It was the only way he 
 could get there, and the interest of the Church required his 
 attendance, and he went. Indeed, long after other good and 
 great men would have ceased to travel, and would have re- 
 tired from active and extended labors, like his blessed ant^ 
 beloved predecessors, Asbury and McKendree, his indomii 
 able will and love of God and his cause bore him onward 
 amidst suffering and privations. But 'worn by slowly roll 
 ing years,' and borne down by increasing infirmities of 
 eighty-six years, his end at last drew near. Bishop McTyeire, 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 241 
 
 Dr. Summers, Dr. Green, and others, had the privilege of 
 visiting and witnessing the exit of the patriarch — gathered 
 like the head men and captixins of the tribes of Israel of old 
 around the couch of the dying Joshua. Such was the life, 
 character, and death of one of the purest and noblest of 
 earth. May we emulate his virtues, that our end may be 
 like his, and join him at last where there is no death, se^v 
 aratiou, or sorrow ! " 
 16 
 
242 LIFE OF ROBERT RAINE, D.D. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 J^^TiLL Working — Depressed — Sick — Unconscious for Months 
 — Providential Kecovery — Kenewed Preaching with 
 Power. 
 
 AFTER attending the Bishops' meeting in Nashville, he 
 visited the old homestead in Giles county, Tennessee. 
 There he stood once more by the graves of his father and 
 mother, and many other loved ones. His reflections were 
 just such as would be indulged by a pious son while stand- 
 ing over the sacred dust of parents he loved so well. Aft- 
 er .preaching in Pulaski he started late at night, on the 
 train, for his home. At Decatur he came near being killed ; 
 but God preserved him, as he still had much work for him 
 to do. During the entire spring and summer months he 
 was busily engaged in attending District Conferences in 
 Mi^issippi and Tennessee. He was not at all well. But 
 he did not stop. He was hardly at home for three days at 
 a time, from May till October. He held District Confer- 
 ences at Brownsville, Trenton, and near Soraerville, Ten- 
 nessee. Then he visited, officially. Holly Springs, Verona, 
 Water Valley, Vicksburg, Jackson, and Natchez, Missis- 
 sippi. 
 
 In October he held the Tennessee Annual Conference 
 at Clarksville, and the Colored Conference at Jackson, 
 Tennessee. He also held the Mississippi Conference at 
 Natchez, and the Louisiana Conference at New Orleans. 
 He had now been more than twenty years a Bishop, and 
 fifty years a preacher. For a half century his life had been 
 spent in constant labor in the Master's vineyard ; yet he 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 243 
 
 does not rest. The Master's voice calls him, and in spite 
 of debility and j)aiii, and often of severe sickness, he still 
 goes. Conscience, duty, the Master's voice, rise infinitely 
 above all earthly anxieties or })leasure. Bishop Paine, amid 
 his " care of all the churches," had much to depress him 
 in his private affairs. From no fault of his he had become 
 oppressed by debts which he never contracted. This was 
 a sore affliction to him. His mind became disturbed. He 
 was sleepless. He suffered much with his head. He was 
 deeply conscientious and thoroughly just. He had large; 
 planting in':erests that demanded his attention in order that 
 he might relieve himself from the burden of a large debt 
 which he felt bound to j^ay. Still he could not neglect his 
 duty to the Churcli. 
 
 In April, 1868, he started to Louisville, Kentucky, to 
 attend a meeting of the Bishops. He was suffering so that 
 his daughter. Miss Ludie — now Mrs. John H. Scruggs — 
 thought it her duty to go with him. On arriving at Nash- 
 ville he was much worse. He could go no farther. The 
 brave, loving daughter determined that it would be best to 
 return home. With the help of kind friends he was pl^iced 
 on the cars. When they arrived at Tuscumbia, Alabama, 
 on May 12, he became unconscious. She determined to 
 convey him home. Upon their arrival he knew nothing. 
 He did not recognize his own dear, devoted wife, nor the 
 faithful daughter whose cpurage and fidelity had accom- 
 plished what few women would have attempted. From 
 the 14th of May to the 26th of July, he lay utterly uncon- 
 scious. He did not recognize his best friends. He seemed 
 utterly mindless. The fitmily were in the deepest sorrow. 
 The Church mourned. Prayer for his recovery was oflfered 
 in all places of public worship, around many family al- 
 tars, and in thousands of closets. He was visited by many 
 of the preachers and other- devoted friends, and all skid, 
 
244 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 "His work is done." I was just on the eve of visiting 
 him; he had been my teacher, friend, associate for nine 
 years. The Rev. W. C. Johnson came to see me. He was 
 just from the Bishop's bedside. He said to me: *'Do not 
 go. He will not recognize you. He knows nothing. His 
 mind seems entirely gone. I am sorry that I went." 80 
 taking the advice of this excellent man, I did not go. I 
 was then writing sketches of Pioneer Methodist Educators, 
 and prepared for the Memphis Advocate, then edited by Dr. 
 Johnson, an elaborate account of Bishop Paine as an edu- 
 cator, and placed him where he belonged, as one of the 
 greatest pioneer educators of the Church. Dr. Johnson 
 published the article with appropriate comments. He stat- 
 ed the Bishop's dangerous and almost hopeless condition, 
 and called upon the Church to unite in earnest prayer for 
 his recovery. In this helpless, unconscious state his faith- 
 ful wife never lost all hope. She waited and watched and 
 prayed, and hoped even against hope. 
 
 The following letter from Bisho]:) Paine gives a full ac- 
 count of this mysterious sickness. It was so remarkable 
 that I doubt not the letter will be read with the greatest 
 interest. It exhibits the same facts found in his diary, but 
 as they are much more minutely narrated in the letter, it 
 is given to the reader just as it came from his hand : 
 
 I have had a strong desire to write you a long letter ever since 
 my recovery from my illness, but, from one cause and another, liave 
 deferred it until now. The sympathy manifested for me in my af- 
 fliction by brethren and friends throughout the country has deeply 
 impressed me, and I desire to express my heart-felt gratitude for it. 
 ;My illness and recovery were alike strange. The doctors attribute 
 the former to exhaustion, caused by overtaxing my strength; and 
 they may be right. I had labored almost constantly since our last 
 General Conference. On horseback, in stages and hacks, as well as 
 by railroads, I had been attending district meetings — losing rest and 
 Bleep, and on several occasions ridirf^ on horseback through drench- 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 24") 
 
 ing rains, many miles. Last suiuinor and lull my health give way 
 yet I still persisted to meet my engagements. In April I snfJere>l 
 a sudilen and violent attaek while riding alone to fill an appointment. 
 I became entirely oblivions, and fonnd myself lying on the road, 
 having fallen })recipitately. I, however, got njistnnned and brnised, 
 resumed my trip, and filled my appointment. This was followed 
 with considerable debility, and an incessant pain in my head. In 
 this condition I started to Lonisville, Kentucky, to attend the meet- 
 ing of Bishops. My indisposition increased, and I reached Winches- 
 ter, Tennessee, in great pain. Here I was constrained to preach, 
 which greatly aggravated my sufferings. At Nashville I fonnd my- 
 self utterly unable to proceed, and but for the very kind hospitality 
 of Brother Fite and his wife, and the medical skill of Drs. Martin 
 and Maddin, must have had the attack wlii li endued innnediately 
 upon getting back home. 
 
 At midnight of May 12 1 reached home, and from that time until 
 July 26 there is a perfect blank in my memory. When I became 
 conscious of my condition, I was utterly prostrated in strength, my 
 nervous system in great disorder, and my mind in some degree sym- 
 pathizing with my physical condition. My restoration to conscious- 
 ness was nearly as sudden as the attack. Friends and physicians 
 gave me up. Some came from a distance to attend my burial, an 1 
 my death was currently reported. God raised rae up in answer to 
 the prayers of the Church. His agents were the tenderest and best 
 of nurses, who never left my bedside, and the most skillful medical 
 attention by Dr. Lowe. To God be all honor and praise. To 
 them, and to all who felt and prayed for me, I hereby tender my 
 earnest gratitude. Throughout this whole affliction, I have suffered 
 no uneasiness nor doubts as to my eternal destiny. All was calm and 
 peaceful. My large and helpless family and security responsibilities 
 alone gave me anxiety. And in addition to these, the apprehension 
 that I would never be able to i)reach the gospel or write a line again 
 caused the keenest and most depressing agony I ever felt. For I 
 was told my work was done, and that if my life should be prolonged 
 I could never labor again. What a privilege to preach and do good I 
 I am now recovering health and strength, and do most devoutly re- 
 consecrate myself, myall, to Him "who loved me and gave himself 
 for me." I am told that my illness was typhoid fever of a severe 
 form. Whatever it was, I thank God he has brought me off without 
 any permanent physical ov mental deprivation. 
 
246 LIFE OF KOBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 I think I have learned some important lessons. One is, that 
 jiieaoliers, as well as others, sliould take care of tlifir health, and not 
 tax mind or body too heavily. 
 
 1 am anxious to resume my labors — tried to preach a little last 
 Sunday; but my physician and friends say I must not yet fatigue 
 mind or body. But 1 hope to be in the field again shortly, and do 
 what I can for the souls of my fellow-men. God bless the Church 
 and give her great prosperity. R. Paine. 
 
 P. S. — During my sickness and convalescence, a great many let- 
 ters were received w^iich I could not answer, and my correspondents 
 will please accept this explanation. 
 
 Aberdeen, Miss., Sept. 24, 1808. 
 
 On Wednesday, May 13, he enters in his diary, "De- 
 pressed and sick." Then he writes on July 26: "Became 
 conscious. Remember no one who visited me nor any thing 
 since May 14. My faithful wife nursed me all the time 
 with the utmost care and tenderness. To my God I owe 
 my recovery. I devote myself anew to his service." 
 
 On September 20, Sunday, he was able to preach. His 
 subject was, "The daughter of Jairus." He felt that his 
 own recovery was almost as miraculous as the restoration 
 ol' the daughter of Jairus. His talk was full of tenderness 
 and gratitude. He was happy. He thanked God that he 
 was able to preach again. On the first Sunday in October 
 he preached for the first time in Aberdeen. On this occa- 
 sion he had great liberty. He was full of the Holy Ghost. 
 His subject was, "He that hath this hope purifieth him- 
 self." He was at no loss for words. He seemed almost 
 inspired. He had not preached with so much power for 
 y(.'ars. The news went through the land. He was like one 
 ri*en from the dead. His mind seemed to have undergone 
 a wonderful transformation. He united the wisdom of age 
 with the vigor of youth. His old friends listened with won- 
 dei- and admiration and great sniriti al profit Dr. J. B. 
 McFerrin said to the writer: "I have never known such a 
 
BISlIOr OF THE'M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 247 
 
 change; I call it a resurrection." And it was. He became 
 more subjective. He testified. He "got happy," and ex- 
 pressed his joy in well-chosen words. When the memora- 
 ble 9th of Octo])er came it found him rejoicing still in 
 pardoning and sustaining grace which he had enjoyed for 
 fifty-one years. He never forgot that Sabbath afternoon, 
 October 9, 1817, at Davis Brown's, Giles county, Tennessee, 
 when he was so happily converted to God. Then on Novem- 
 ber 12 he writes: "My birthday — sixty-nine. Thank God! 
 O to be thankful, holy, and useful!" The only Confer- 
 ence held by him this year was the Colored Conference 
 which he held in Memphis. This was before the organiza- 
 tion of the Colored Methodist Episcopal Church. He took 
 the greatest possible interest in the colored race, as he had 
 done all his life, and strongly counseled their separate or- 
 ganization. He was now employing all his spare time on 
 the "Life of Bishop McKendree." This was with him a 
 labor of love. He had been collecting and arranging ma- 
 terials for years. He determined to make the work worthy 
 of the man who, next to Asbury, had been the chosen in- 
 strument in planting Methodism in America. That he did 
 so has been the universal verdict of the readers of the ''Life 
 and Times of William McKendree, Bishop of the Method- 
 ist Episcopal Church." Of tliis biography Dr. Thomas O. 
 Summers says: 
 
 "The General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal 
 Church, South, at its session in Columbus, Georgia, May, 
 1854, requested Bishop Paine to write the biography of 
 Bishop McKendree. The Conference was happy in its 
 selection of a biographer of the venerable Bishop. Dr. 
 Paine was for many years intimately associated with 
 Bishop McKendree; he traveled witli him thousands of 
 miles, fre(juently licard him ])reach, assisted him in the 
 preparation of his atklresses to the General and Annual 
 
248 LIFE OF ROBERT* PAINE, D.D. 
 
 Conferences, and other important papers; he was familiar 
 with all his views of the constitution and polity of the 
 Methodist Episcopal Church, and gave his cordial indorse- 
 ment ; he was, though comjiaratively young, the particular, 
 confidential friend of the Bishoj), and entertained for him 
 the most devoted affection and veneration and he still cher- 
 ishes for his memory as a son in the gospel the most profound 
 regard. He was thus eminently qualified to write his biog- 
 ra})hy. Bishop Paine was a member of every General Con- 
 ference from 1824 to 1844, at which session the Church 
 was provisionally divided. He was consequently acquaint- 
 ed with the leading men of the Church, and whose charac- 
 ters are appropriately and impartially sketched in these 
 volumes. In this work will be found a history of the 
 Methodist Episcopal Church down to the time of the death 
 of Bishop McKendree, as he was identified with its principal 
 movements from the beginning. Bishop Paine has wisely 
 allowed Bishop McKendree to be to a very great extent 
 his OAvn biographer, having made great use of his diary, 
 journals, and other manuscripts. These extracts exhibit 
 the devotion and zeal of Bishop McKendree and his asso- 
 ciates. The work is thus of immense value to their successors 
 in the ministry, who, it is hoped, will be stimulated by its 
 perusal to reproduce the self-sacrificing spirit and labor of. 
 those holy men." 
 
 A man more capable of judging of the importance 
 and value of this work our Church has never produced. 
 Dr. Summers was learned, impartial, just, and yet fully 
 ai)preciative. The Bisho}) had not rushed this work 
 through the press. He had been in no hurry. He was 
 now revising and giving to the biography his last finish- 
 ing touches. He had read to me portions of the work in 
 1856, and would possibly have published it at an earlier 
 period but for the terrible wnr of four years through which 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 249 
 
 we had just passed. The work was presented to the public 
 in two large duodecimo volumes in the year 1869. In it 
 the reader will find great variety and nuich instruction. 
 His narrative is easy, his descriptions vivid, liis portraitures 
 of character strikingly life-like, his spirit catholic, and his 
 reflections wise and pious. We can truly say that he put 
 forth his full strength as a writer on these volumes, and 
 that they need no eulogy. They speak for themselves. 
 
250 LIFE OF ROBERT RAINE, D.D. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 Finishing the Life op Bishop McKendree — Hard at Work — 
 Growing Old Gracefully. 
 
 IT was in the year 1869 that the Life of Bishop McKendree 
 was finished. For the first three or four months the 
 Bishop was writing most laboriously. He was so busy that 
 for days and days he simply entered in his diary : " Writ- 
 ing, writing." Then he determined to edit his own work. 
 He staid months in Nashville superintending the publica- 
 tion, and reading the proof-sheets. This kept him very busy. 
 He did not forget, however, his holy calling. He went to 
 many places in the country contiguous to Nashville and 
 preached. He was often with Dr. A. L. P. Green, whose 
 company he most richly enjoyed. With the officials at the 
 Publishing House his intercourse was exceedingly pleasant. 
 Dr. A. H. Bedford, who was then the Agent, was kind and 
 attentive ; so that the heavy labor of bringing out the two 
 vohimes was greatly mitigated by the social and religious 
 enjoyments. He also visited many of the neighboring 
 towns and preached. He was at Franklin, Gallatin, Pu- 
 laski, Bogersville, and Athens, Tennessee, and at Tuseum- 
 bia and Huntsville, Alabama. He also held the Tennessee 
 Conference at Murfreesboro, and the Colored Conference 
 at Nashville. He was now seventy years old. On the an- 
 niversary of his birth he says: "My seventieth birthday. 
 Thanks for so many mercies during so many years. Eter- 
 nal praise to the Father, and tlie Son, and the Holy Ghost! 
 May my old age be holy, useful, and serene." 
 
 He had been preaching fifty-two years, and a presiding 
 Bishop, traveling at large, twenty-three years. He did not 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 251 
 
 become morose. He grew old beautifully. To him there 
 was no dead-line until he reached the goal. He was hope- 
 ful as to the prospects of the Church and the country. He 
 did not worry or weary his friends with bitter complaints. 
 God had been merciful. The Church was appreciative and 
 devoted. The preachers gave him their confidence and love. 
 His family looked up to him as the grandest of men, the 
 best of husbands, and the most unselfish of fathers. His 
 old age was coming on, but he hardly seemed to know it. 
 He was active. He sought opportunities to do good. He 
 talked to the children. He held District Conferences ; took 
 full work with his colleagues in attending the Annual Con- 
 ferences. He was always and everywhere welcome. He 
 was bright. His wit was often pungent, and he would 
 often indulge in innocent humor. His memory was stored 
 with incidents, entertaining and "good to the use of edify- 
 ing." He did not seem to be more than fifty years old. 
 His step was quick, his eyes bright, his memory active, his 
 voice strong and clear, and both in mind and body he 
 seemed to be in the maturity of his powers. He was a 
 beautiful example to preachers growing old. It is a noto- 
 rious fact that old preachers often outlive their usefulness. 
 They become bitter. The w orld is all going wrong. The 
 Church is backslidden. They are not appreciated. Like 
 an old worn-out horse, they are turned out on the commons 
 to die. Young men have supplanted them. Sermons that 
 they once preached with great power and acceptability now 
 fall on deaf ears, and cold and unfeeling hearts. All this 
 is true, and more. But what is the cause? They are them- 
 selves to blame. They fail because they cease to study. 
 They elaborate no new sermons. They depend upon the 
 old barrel which they have been turning over for a cpiarter 
 of a century. They never look at the bright side of things. 
 Unfitted by long habit for any business pursuits, and unfit- 
 
252 LIFE OF KOBEKT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 ted by their own waut of study for giving interest to the 
 "old, old story," they spend their time in looking after 
 evils, in hunting up trouble, in anticipating ruin to the 
 (.'hurch, in finding fault "with the young, in fretting and 
 scolding, and thus have themselves alone to reproach for 
 their present sad condition. Because of these facts there is 
 a dead-line, and few pass over it and retain their vigor, their 
 acceptability, and their usefulness. Said an excellent man 
 to me : " I do n't know what is to become of us. The peo- 
 ple in this country do not wish to hear a man preach who 
 has passed his fiftieth birthday. After that we have to be 
 laid on the shelf" Why is this? It is not true of the 
 learned professions. A doctor or lawyer is in his prime at 
 fifty. The most of the judges of our high courts are se- 
 lected because of their age and experience, and not because 
 of their youthful vigor. Lawyers and doctors do not think 
 of retiring from practice, nor doe's their practice leave them 
 because of their infirmities of old age, when the light burden 
 of only fifty years is upon them. At the age of seventy 
 Bishop Paine did not think of laying off the harness. His 
 seventieth year was one of the most active of his active life. 
 He was writing, correcting proof-sheets, traveling, presiding, 
 making appointments, and preaching the word. His preach- 
 ing was never more acceptable or more powerful. Since his 
 long sickness his mind seemed to have undergone a radical 
 change. He had no lack of words, choice and -.expressive. 
 He seldom made a failure. He had his subjects always 
 well in hand. Instead of crossing a dead-line, he seemed 
 to have passed into a world of greater life. His imagina- 
 tion was more regular, and its creations were of the highest 
 order of poetic thought. His words came unbidden. His 
 passion glowed. His preaching was full of rich experience. 
 It was more subjective. It welled up from a heart full of 
 love and strong faith. In social life he became, if possible, 
 
BTPHOr OF THE M. E. CJIURCn, SOUTH. 253 
 
 still more attractive than he had ever been. His freedom 
 from all asperity, his playful and yet innocent mirth, his 
 entire freedom from sour godliness, and all this sustained by 
 a character of spotless purity, upon which the flight of sev- 
 enty yeai^s had left not one stain, made him the welcome 
 guest in all refined religious circles and the beloved Bishop 
 at all our Conferences. 
 
 From Nashville, after passing a short time at his home 
 in Aberdeen, he attended and held the Montgomery Con- 
 ference at Union Springs, and the Mobile Conference at 
 Selma. In going from Union Springs to Selma he slept on 
 the cabin floor of the boat on which he took passage. At 
 the Montgomery Conference he had a delightful home in 
 the family of Col. R. H. Powell, and at Selma he was with 
 the family of Col. William McKendree Byrd, his old pupil 
 and warm friend. I have had occasion to refer to this. dis- 
 tinguished pupil of his in another chapter. He had all the 
 elements of a great man. He was a distinguished lawyer 
 and jurist. He was a brave, patient, humble, liberal, foith- 
 ful Christian. A few years after this Conference he was 
 suddenly killed by a railroad accident, just as he was re- 
 turning from a mission of peace. His noble life, thus closed 
 in the midst of extensive usefulness, was an undying testi- 
 mony in favor of our holy religion, which he had illustrated 
 from his boyhood. In this pleasant family, and with this 
 devoted friend, his days at the Mobile Conference passed 
 most happily. He closed the Conference late in December, 
 1869, having thus finished a year of constant labor, almost 
 without any rest at all, and yet with much less sufi^ering, 
 than in former years, and with great satisfaction to himself 
 and much profit to the Church. 
 
254 LIFE OF ROBERT RAIXE, D.D. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 Working Like a Young Man. 
 
 THE year 1870 brought with it many cares, and more 
 than the usual amount of Church business. While at 
 home he had but little rest. He was settling debts con- 
 tracted only as security for others. 
 
 Debt was to him a terrible nightmare. He loathed it. 
 He had always tried to obey the apostolic injunction, " Owe 
 no man any thing." His own private matters were always 
 kept in the most systematic manner, and so as never to in- 
 volve himself or others. He placed his name on paper for 
 the benefit of dear friends, and of course suffered for it. 
 The first part of the year was crowded with many annoy- 
 ances which kept him very busy in attending to temporal 
 affairs. 
 
 The sixth General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal 
 Church, South, was organized by him in the city of Mem- 
 phis on May 4. All the Bishops were present except Bishop 
 Early, who was sick at his home in Lynchburg, Ya. Bishop 
 Andrew was there, but too feeble to perform any work. He 
 never appeared more saintly, and never breathed a sweeter 
 spirit. But he was not able to preside in Conference, or 
 even to meet in the councils of the Bishops. His feeble 
 frame showed the marks of decay and the near approach of 
 the last messenger. His presence, however, was a benedic- 
 tion to all. Bishop Paine had prepared the Bishops' Ad- 
 dress, which was read to the Conference by Bishop Wight- 
 man. It was highly commended by many of the first men 
 in the Conference as an able State paper. It heartily rec- 
 ommended a training-school for preachers, which elicited 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 255 
 
 some oi3position. Tlii.^, however, was compromised, and uo 
 other thau the most charitable and Christian spirit was ex- 
 hibited. I have said that while Bishop Paine was cautious 
 and conservative, he was also progressive. He was ever 
 iil>reast with the age in advocating high culture for men and 
 women, and lor ministers especially. He held to all the ol9 
 landmarks, as to the doctrines and discipline of the Church, 
 lie opposed all inroads upon strict, old-fashioned Methodism 
 \\nenever and wherever such inroads lessened piety and 
 caused a departure from those doctrines which have ever 
 been regarded as vital to Methodism. He opposed false 
 doctrines, sinful amusements, indulgence in any of the forms 
 of fashionable vice, with all the earnestness of a Wesley, and 
 with a zeal that did not abate to his dying-day. 
 
 At this General Conference, John Christian Keener, D.D., 
 wad elected and ordained Bishop. He was taken from the 
 ranks, for although he had been editor of the Neiv Orleans 
 Christian Advocate, he had performed that work, in connec- 
 tion with some pastoral labor. He was a fine writer. His 
 l>roductions were always marked by originality and strength. 
 lie was a sound theologian and a good preacher. He had 
 niade his mark broad and deep as a Christian minister in 
 !New Orleans. He loved the Church, and w^as ready to 
 make any sacrifice for her interests. He was of course wel- 
 comed by the Board of Bishops and by the Church at 
 large. He has been faithful to all the interests committed 
 to his hands. 
 
 After the Memphis Conference, Bishop Paine was largely 
 engaged during the summer in attending District Confer- 
 ences. At Athens, Florence, and Maysville, Alabanui; at 
 Bharon, Starkville, Holly Springs, Sardis, and Oakland, 
 Mississippi; and at a country church some thirty miles from 
 Memphis, Tenn., he conducted District Conferences. He 
 went directly from these Conferences to Louisville, Ky.. 
 
25S LIFE OF ROBF-RT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 and preached in Broadway and Walnut Street Methodbt 
 churches. Both of the sermons were of high order. 
 
 He held the Kentucky Conference at Covington, and 
 returned to Louisville, Avhere he presided over the Colored 
 Conference. Thence he went to the little town of Sonora, 
 and preached and gave large assistance to the preacher in 
 a revival which was going on. 
 
 From Sonora to Greensburg, the seat of the Louisville 
 Conference, he went with other preachers in an open wagon, 
 and through quite a rain-fall. 
 
 He was near seventy-one years old. At this Conference 
 I was his room-mate. During the whole Conference he did 
 not retire for rest before twelve o'clock at night. I said to 
 him : " Bishop, this will not do ; you will kill yourself" 
 He replied : " I am obliged to do this work. It cannot be 
 postponed. It is work in connection with this Conference, 
 and must be done before reading out the appointments." 
 
 He was greatly troubled during the Conference, not 
 merely by official labors, but by terrible charges of innno- 
 rality against a prominent preacher. He was grieved be- 
 yond measure, and during the few hours he was in bed he 
 gave more time to anxious thought and earnest prayer than 
 to sleep, which he needed so greatly. Yet the elegant fam- 
 ily Avith which we were domiciled knew nothing of his 
 troubles or his labors. He was bright and cheerful in their 
 presence. His stay with them was a benediction. It was at 
 this Conference he preached on " The temptation of Christ." 
 It was one of the greatest efforts of his life, and has been 
 seldom excelled by any preacher in any period of the 
 Church. The conflict between Christ and Satan was por- 
 trayed with wonderful vividness. The persevering effi'ont- 
 ery of Satan, his repeated and cunning attacks, and the 
 final triumphs of the Master, were so painted that we could 
 almost see the battle as it raged in the desert. He con- 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 257 
 
 tnisti'd most vividly the teiDptiitloii in the garden of Ed.'ii 
 and this one amid the jagged rocks and barren sands of 
 the desert. The first Achini was conquered, but the last 
 Adam, weary and woi-n, and in solitude where no flowers 
 bloomed, gained a victory whose glorious pieans have echoed 
 along the ages and would continue to sound forever. Then 
 his rej^resentation of the angel that came to minister to 
 the exhausted Son of God was one of the highest efforts of 
 a sanctified imagination. We could almost see the shim- 
 mer and hear the rustle of their wings as they came in 
 troops to minister unto him. I wondered how he would 
 descend from so lofty a flight. But he came down so 
 gracefully as to cause a shower of tears and a burst of holy 
 emotion from the preachers rarely equaled. When he had 
 us all raised to the highest pitch of excitement and won- 
 der, he suddenly i3aused, and with child-like simplicity added : 
 " Brethren, I have always thought that if I had been among 
 the angels I would have tried to get there first." We all felt 
 first, yes, first — first among the angels to get close to Christ. 
 
 After a short visit to his home, he left in November for 
 Gadsden, the seat of the Xorth Alabama Conference. Bish- 
 op McTyeire was with him, and gave him valuable assist- 
 ance. The weather was delightful, and the brethren as 
 genial as the weather. The session was one of the most 
 pleasant he had ever enjoyed. Dr. J. G. Wilson was the 
 Secretary, and of course did his work well. A good Con- 
 ference Secretary is a wonderful help to the presiding offi- 
 cer. Dr. Wilson had all the intelligence, the precision, the 
 patience, and the energy to qualify him for the responsible 
 position to which his brethren called him. He was then 
 actively engaged in the cause of education as the President 
 of the Huntsville Female College. He has been- for t'.ic 
 last eight or ten vears in charge of most im )orta;it work 
 in the city of St. Louis. 
 17 
 
258 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 At the close of this year the Bishop organized the Col- 
 ored Methodist Episcopal Church of America at Jackson, 
 Tenn. That is to say, he presided at their first General 
 Conference, and with the assistance of Bishop McTyeire, 
 Dr. A. L. P. Green, and a few others, set off this Church 
 from the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, and ordained 
 W. H. Miles and J. H. Vanderhorst Bishops. 
 
 Durino; the year he had to record the death of the Rev. 
 William McMahon, the last member belonging to the Ten- 
 nessee Conference in 1818, when Robert Paine w^as ad- 
 mitted on trial. His death left him the only man of all 
 who w^ere connected with the Conference in 1818. All the 
 rest had been called home. 
 
 I beg the reader to review for a moment this one chap- 
 ter in the life of Bishop Paine, and see what work he did 
 in these the seventy-first and seventy-second years of his 
 age. He presided at tw^o General Conferences, four or five 
 Annual Conferences, and eight or ten District Conferences. 
 He seemed like a man in the j)rime of life. The senior Bish- 
 op was an example of energy the most active, and of zeal the 
 most fervent. He was all sunshine in the domestic circle, 
 the powerful exhorter in revivals, the man of dignity in the 
 chair, and the peerless preacher in the pulpit. His mind was 
 as active, his memory as retentive, his judgment as accurate, 
 his counsels as wise, and his heart as genial and warm as ever. 
 There was no " letting down " either in his efforts or his 
 aspirations. His manhood — intellectual, moral, religious — 
 was never greater than when he entered upon the seventy- 
 second year of his noble and useful life. 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 259 
 
 I 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII 
 
 Death of Bishop Andrew — Bishop Paink ix Louisville. 
 
 N February, 1871, Bishop Aiidrew ceased from labor, and 
 entered into his eternai rest. His death left Bishop Paine 
 the only survivor of the original College of Bishops who in 
 1846 were placed in charge as chief pastors of the Method- 
 ist Episcopal Church, South. Souie, Capers, Andrew — no- 
 ble, gifted, pious, apostolic men every one of them — had been 
 called from the Church militant to the Church triumphant. 
 To fill the places occupied by them were Wightman, Dog- 
 gett, Marvin, McTyeire, and Keener, who had been elected 
 and ordained since 1865. Then he had with him Bishops 
 Pierce and Kavanaugh, who had been his colleagues since 
 1854. Thus had the growth of Southern Methodism de- 
 manded increase in the general superinteudency. In less 
 than a quarter of a century its progress had been such as 
 to demand the doubling of the episcopal forces. The death 
 of Bishop Andrew was not unexpected. He had been un- 
 able to do effective work for five years, and was himself in 
 daily expectation of his call to other and brighter fields. 
 He died universally loved and regretted. The Board of 
 Bishops met in May in Nashville, and held suitable memo- 
 rial-services in honor of their departed brother. Bishop 
 Pierce* delivered the sermon in McKendree Church. He 
 almost felt as if he was delivering the funeral-oration over 
 his own father, so dear was Bishop Andrew to him. Im- 
 mediately after the meeting in Nashville, Tenn., Bishop 
 
 * While these pages are passing tlirougji tlie press, the sad intel- 
 ligence reaches us of the death of Bishop Pierce, at Sunshine, near 
 Sparta, Ga. 
 
260 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 Paine came to Louisville, accompanied by his accomplished 
 daughter. Miss Ludie, now the wife of Rev. John H. Scruggs. 
 They were the welcome guests of his old pupil, the present 
 writer. The District Conference was held in Louisville, 
 Ky. Bishop Paine presided to the satisfaction and profit 
 of all. 
 
 We had at that time an association of young men con- 
 nected with the Broadway Church. It was called the " Band 
 of Brothers." By iiivitation the Bishop attended a meeting 
 and delivered a lecture, which so pleased the band that they 
 insisted on his delivering an address in the main auditorium 
 of the church, and that a general invitation be extended to 
 the people to come and hear it. He partially consented to 
 do this. Upon the strength of the partial promise, the ap- 
 pointment was made. It was during the session of the Dis- 
 trict Conference, which was being held at another church. 
 Brother Brush, the excellent presiding elder, suggested to 
 the Bishop that for him to lecture at Broadway while the 
 session was being held at another church might work harm. 
 It might arouse unkind feelings between the churches. At 
 once the Bishop declined delivering the lecture. He would 
 never under any circumstances be the cause of strife in the 
 Church of Christ. He must be and he would be the pro- 
 moter of peace. The disappointment was great. A lect- 
 ure, however, was delivered by another party. I pitied the 
 substitute, but the Spirit rested upon him, and he delivered 
 about the best talk of his life. The speaker soon forgot his 
 embarrassment, and made an effective appeal in behalf of 
 truth and virtue and of the claims of the Band of Brothers. 
 
 I have before referred to Bishop Paine's intense love 
 for the Church. It was a deep, enthusiastic passion in 
 him. It glowed and thrilled through his great soul like 
 a spiritual flame. It -knew no abatement during his whole 
 life. He loved youno; men, and was anxious to make the 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 261 
 
 address for wliicli the call had been so earnest and entirely 
 unanimous. But when the presiding elder suggested that 
 harm might come to the Church, he positively declined. 
 
 During the whole of this year he continued to travel and 
 attend to all the duties of a chief pastor. He preached. 
 He baptized. He instructed seekers of religion. He la- 
 bored incessantly from the Mississippi to the Atlantic, and 
 from the Ohio to the Gulf. He attended the Eastern (Con- 
 ferences, and was at Lynchburg, Kichmond, Norfolk, Ports- 
 mouth, in Virginia; at Raleigli and Charlotte, North Caro- 
 lina; at Spartanburg and Columbia, South Carolina — in all 
 of which places he preached. He was also preaching and 
 holding District Conferences at different points in Tennes- 
 see and Alabama. He held one at Tuscaloosa. This city 
 was a very small village in 1819 when he was the circuit 
 preacher. Now it was a thriving and beautiful city, the 
 seat of the State University, and the home of refinement 
 and hospitality. In 1819 he had gone from the village of 
 Tuscaloosa into the Choctaw Nation of Indians, then occu- 
 pying the borders of the State, for the purpose of forming 
 a mission. Now the Indians had all been removed to the 
 west of the " Great Father of Waters," and he had visited 
 them often and endeavored not only to preach to them but 
 to do all a Bishop could to advance their spiritual interests. 
 
202 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.J). 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 Central University. 
 
 EARLY in the year 1872 an educational convention ^vas 
 held at Memphis, Tenn., which was attended l)y the 
 Bishop. The object of this convention was to adopt some 
 plan by which a great central university could be established 
 at some place in the South. It was attended by many of our 
 progressive men, both from the clergy and laity. Conspic- 
 uous among the laymen was Judge Milton Brown, of Jack- 
 son, Tenn. Bishop Paine had been in the front fol* nearly 
 fifty years as an educator. He was one of the founders of 
 La Grange College, and had presided over it for nearly six- 
 teen years. He was present at the birth of the Southern 
 University at Greensboro, Ala., and was the President of 
 its Board of Trustees. It would not do for the old man, 
 pressed as he was with the "care of all the churches" and 
 with private business, to be absent from this most important 
 educational convention held since the war. All our insti- 
 tutions of learning had been crippled, and some of them 
 had been destroyed, by the war and its terrible results. At 
 the convention in Memphis it was determined to raise a 
 million of dollars, and to establish a university with a the- 
 ological department as an integral part. The wise and true 
 men of this convention did not locate their great university. 
 They did not know from what source the money was to come, 
 but they had faith in God and in their great cause. 
 
 It will be seen after awhile how and from whence the 
 money came, and it will also be seen that the Bishop was 
 present when the foundation-stone was laid, and assisted in 
 the ceremonies. In jNIarch of this year, the Baltimore Con- 
 
HI8II()r or THE M. K. CIIUIICII, SOUTH. 263 
 
 ference held its session at Warrenton, Va. Bishop Paine 
 was to })resi(le, and on his way j)asso<l throuirh Lynchburg, 
 and had an interview with his venerable colleague Bishop 
 Early, who was rapidly declining. He found his dear old 
 friend calm and trustful, ready to depart and be with Christ. 
 He also stopped at Washington City, and preached in Mount 
 Vernon Place Church. Congress was in session, and he 
 saw and heard some of the great men of the nation. 
 
 On his way home from the Baltimore Conference, he 
 stopped at Corinth, Miss., and assisted in the quarterly- 
 meeting services then going on. He preached on "There 
 is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner 
 that repenteth." "Joy everywhere," said the Bishop, "ex- 
 cept among the wicked on earth and the devils in hell." 
 
 He had a pleasant call in April to officiate in the marriage 
 of Ellen Virginia Saunders, the daughter of his old friend 
 Col. James E. Saunders, to Mr. McFarland. It was to him 
 and his old friends Col. and Mrs. Saunders a most delight- 
 ful reunion. These were friends true and tried. They loved 
 each other with a tenderness and warmth such as existed be- 
 tween David and Jonathan. Two men never agreed better 
 than BishojD Robert Paine and Col. James E. Saunders. 
 For more than half a century they were like brothei's. 
 Their high culture, their genial, social feelings, their rich 
 experience in divine things, their common struggles in the 
 cause of religious education, and the similarity of their views 
 on nearly all great matters relating to Church or State, fitted 
 them for mutual companionship and united them together 
 as by hooks of steel. The wife of Col. Saunders was also 
 a great favorite with the Bishop, and he really looked upon 
 them as brother and sister. (Col. Saunders was a step- 
 brother of the Bishop's wife.) 
 
 Soon after this pleasant visit to his old Alabama friends 
 he commenced his work on the District Conferences. Afler 
 
2<)4 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 holding three of these, he went to the Bishops' meeting in 
 ]S^ashville, Tenn. The Bishops harmonized on the location 
 of the great Central University. After leaving Nashville 
 he stopped in Giles county, and held a District Conference. 
 It was a joy to him to be among the hills of old Giles coun- 
 ty again. The Conference was held among the hills on 
 Bradshaw's Creek. He had to ride on horseback, but he 
 was glad to do that. It reminded him of 1817. He met 
 with the Abernathys, Browns, Ballentines, Howells, Mar- 
 tins, and others, whose families had known him in his boy- 
 hood. Here his father had lived and been honored and 
 loved. Here many of his loved ones Avere buried. But 
 few were now living who were men and women when he 
 left his home for the life of an itinerant preacher. Some 
 ol' his old pupils were; there to remind him of his labors 
 at La Grange College. He continued at such work all 
 through the summer. In Tennessee, Alabama, and Missis- 
 sippi he was traveling, j^residing, preaching. At Athens 
 and Huntsville, Ala., at Union City and Dresden, Tenn,, 
 and at Friar's Point and Greenville, Miss., he held these 
 Conferences, as also at other places. But I mention these 
 to show the extent of his travels. He Avas all over West 
 Tennessee, North Alabama, and a large portion of Missis- 
 sippi. He preached on every Sabbath and often during 
 the week. The summer was intensely hot, the thermome- 
 ter reaching 98, but he did not stop, although often much 
 exhausted by his labors and at times suffering with rheuma- 
 tism. In November he held the Virginia Conference. On 
 his way to Petersburg, he stopped again to see Bishop Ear- 
 ly, whom he found rapidly failing. The old soldier Avas 
 ready to exchange the cross for the crown. He stopped in 
 AVashington City, and also at Baltimore, preaching in Trin- 
 ity Church. He says the sermon was too long, and that it 
 lacked simplicity. I have no means of knowing how it 
 
LrsiIOP OF THE M. E. CIIURC'ir, SOUTH. 265 
 
 was regarded by the vei*y large congregation that listened 
 to it. 
 
 The Virginia Conference was held in AVashington Street 
 Church, Petersburg. jNIany sacred memories crowded upon 
 the Bishop. Here, with William Capers, he was ordained 
 by Bishops Soule and Andrew to the office of Bishop in the 
 Church of God. Of these all were gone but himself. After 
 the close of the Virginia Conference he went immediately to. 
 Fayetteyille, North Carolina, and held that Conference. 
 
 Without a day's rest, after all the fatigue and labor of an 
 Annual Conference, he hurried on to Anderson, South Car- 
 olina, the seat of the South Carolina Conference. He had 
 been detained by snow on the track, and did not arriye at 
 Andei'son until after the org-anization of the Conference. 
 He immediately took the chair and conducted the Confer- 
 ence through its business to the close. There is no labor 
 more trying on a man of heart, as was Bishop Paine, than 
 the work of a Methodist Annual Conference. For hours 
 he has to occupy the chair, keep order, decide upon ques- 
 tions of law, etc. Then at night with his cabinet he must 
 look oyer the entire work and examine impartially the fit- 
 ness of each preacher for any work for which he may be 
 nominated. Then there are difficult questions to be solved, 
 hard cases to determine. All these tend to wear out the 
 constitution of a Bishop, Avho has to assume the whole re- 
 sponsibility for every appointment. Our Bishop was now 
 seventy-three years old, and if he*Nvas not abundant in la- 
 bors, then was Paul himself an idler in his jNIaster's vine- 
 yard. He was fulfilling his vows and going all the time. 
 That is the glory of jNIethodism. It goes. The inspiring 
 word which moves the whole moral machinery of the Church 
 is go. To the inspiration of that one short word does Meth- 
 odism owe nuich of its jDOwer and its wonderful success at 
 home and abroad. 
 
206 LIFE OF R0BP:RT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 The year 1873 was saddened at the beginning by the death 
 of Dr. W. A. S3'kes, of Aberdeen, Miss. He had been the 
 life-long friend of the Bishop. For nearly fifty years they 
 had enjoyed each other's confidence and love. He was a 
 Christian gentleman of great moral worth, and his death was 
 a source of grief to the Bishop as well as to his own family. 
 He felt that he was losing a brother beloved. He preached 
 ihe funeral-sermon on the text, "If a man die, shall he live 
 again?" The doctrine of the immortality of the soul is 
 one very dear to all followers of Christ. In this is seen the 
 dignity of human nature, and upon it is predicated the pre- 
 oiousness of redemption. Man is immortal, and as closely 
 allied to angels as he is to earth and worms. He shall 
 live again. This was the inspiring theme of that funeral- 
 sermon over the dust of a dearly loved friend. Then 
 Dr. Sykes had died in tlie faith, and the reunion of these 
 friends of each other and friends of Christ was assured. 
 How gloriously beautiful is our holy religion ! Its beauty 
 never shines with a more inspiring radiance than amid ^he 
 darkness and sorrow of death. Then it not only. softens 
 sori'ow, but absolutely hushes the sighs and wipes away the 
 tears of grief amid hopes which death itself cannot dispel. 
 A^'^hile this religion gave the preacher comfort, it enabled 
 him to speak words of consolation to the sorrowing family 
 of his old friend- 
 As we proceed with the history of Bishop Paine we are 
 astonished at two things: First, his ability to work. He 
 was now in his seventy-fourth year, and yet he continued 
 to do full work. Secondly, we are equally astonished at 
 his capacity to endure. He was most severely attacked 
 with inflammatory rheumatism on February 10, after great 
 exposure in attending the funeral of a friend who had died 
 some distance from Abei'deen, and whither he had to go on 
 hoi-seback. He was closely confined with this terrible iral- 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 2G7 
 
 ady until the 1 1th of April, exactly two months. The most 
 excruciating agony of these two months no one ever knew. 
 He bore as i)utiontly as he labored actively. He suffered 
 with resignation and with hope. He was so much improved 
 in April that he took a ride, and rnade this note in his diary: 
 "My ankles and wrists still suifering. Thank God for the 
 prospect of getting well and doing service again ! " 
 
 The Bishops' meeting called him to Nashville in May, 
 while still suffering from a horrid cough, which had fol- 
 lowed and accompanied the severe attack of rheumatism. 
 This was an important meeting, as besides the ordinary bus- 
 iness the Vanderbilt University was to be located. 
 
 Through the personal though silent influence of Bishop 
 McTveire, Commodore Cornelius Vanderbilt had determined 
 to make a large donation to establish a great university in 
 the South, and not far from Nashville, Tenn. In view of 
 the great liberality of the wealthy New Yorker, the Central 
 University was merged into this institution, and in honor of 
 the generous founder it was to be called by his name. At 
 the meeting of the Bishops, ^Nlay 8, 1873, the Vanderbilt 
 University was located, at the West End of the city of 
 Nashville, where it noAV stands "a sublime pile," eliciting 
 the admiration of a grateful Church. Nothing in the his- 
 torv of education as connected with Methodism had so grat- 
 ified the Bishop as the founding of this great university. 
 None of our institutions had been so richly endowed as was 
 necessary to put them in the front rank. Now, he felt, we 
 Avill have what had long been the desire of his heart. He 
 had labored and groaned over a college witliout endowment 
 for nearly twenty years, and had given to it the best years 
 of his mature manhood. He had lived to see the institution 
 pass into the control of the State and become the Normal 
 College of Alabama. Over two hundred thousand dollars 
 of endowment had been swept from the Southern Univer- 
 
268 LIFE OF ROBERT RAINE, D.D. 
 
 sity by the disasters of war. And although the institution 
 was still struggling, he had l)ut little hope of seeing it pros- 
 perous in his day. So it was witli most of our Methodist 
 colleges. In Alabama alone two had been lost to the 
 Church and given to the State because of the impoverished 
 condition of the country and the loss of the endowments in 
 both instances. The college Avhich he had founded, labored 
 for, and loved lost more than fifty thousand dollars; and 
 the one at Auburn, in East Alabama, had lost one hundred 
 thousand dollars, and had been made the Agricultural and 
 Mechanical College of Alabama. No one man rejoiced 
 more over the magnificent gift of My. Vanderbilt. He felt 
 that the success of Bishop McTyeire was his. He felt that 
 now' the Church would have a university worthy the name. 
 As he took in the grand view from the site selected, his soul 
 exulted at the prospect of an advance in Church education 
 such as he had hardly hoped to witness. It must have been 
 a gratification beyond expression to Bishop McTyeire when 
 he saw his veteran colleague taking an interest so profound 
 in the success of an enterprise which lay so near his own 
 heart, and which he hoped was now almost assured. 
 
 In company with Dr. Summers, he went to the Sharon 
 District Conference at Bethphage, Tennessee. He enjoyed 
 the hospitality of his old Tennessee friends very much. He 
 w^as pleased w^ith the spirit of the preachers and the religious 
 power of the people. It was a time of refreshing from the 
 presence of the Lord. After the District Conference was 
 over, at which he had presided and preached to the edifica- 
 tion of all, he returned to his home just in time to be at the 
 funeral of Senator Phelan. The Senator's wife, w^hose death 
 has been referred to in these pages, had been a deeply pious 
 Christian. The Senator was also a member of the Method- 
 ist Church, a man of large soul, and a devoted friend of the 
 Bishop. He had been a member of the United States Sen- 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHUR(^H, SOUTH. 209 
 
 ate, and was just iu the prime of his manhood. His death 
 was a h)ss to the Church and to the country, and was deeply 
 felt by the Bishoj). 
 
 He continued to travel and preach and hold District Con- 
 ferences all through the hot sunnuer of 18713. He passed 
 from a District Conference near Clarksville, Tenn., to Cof- 
 feeville, Miss., and at ditierent places between these two 
 points he was at camp-meetings, quarterly-meetings, and 
 country churches, preaching like a young man. On Fri- 
 day, November 7, he records the death of another of his 
 colleagues, Bishop John Early. He had enjoyed sweet 
 communion with his venerable brother twice during his 
 long confinement. He had found him resigned and ready, 
 and his death was not unexpected. Thus had he seen four 
 of his colleagues pass from the College of Bishops on earth 
 to the society of apostles and martyrs in heaven. Bishop 
 Early was in his eighty-eighth year, and had been on the 
 retired list since 1866. Sometimes abrupt and apparently 
 arbitrary, he was always true. He lovecWthe cause of Christ 
 above all things else, and had been consecrated to it nearly 
 all his long life. Bishop Paine preached his funeral-sermon 
 in Aberdeen, on Sunday, the 16th of November. He held 
 the North Mississippi Conference at Grenada, the North 
 Georgia at Newnan, Ga., and the South Georgia Confer- 
 ence at Macon. 
 
 During this tour of Conferences he passed into his seven- 
 ty-fifth year. He makes his usual record of gratitude to 
 God for his numerous mercies. Although it had been a 
 year of great and constant labor, and for months of very 
 great sufiTering, he forgets both in the grateful recollection 
 of so many mercies and blessings bestowed. So he contin- 
 ued to grow old gracefully, possessing none of the bitterness 
 M'hich, alas! too frequently is characteristic of old age. He 
 had labored much, suffered much, and enjoyed more. His 
 
270 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 Spirits were still cheerful, and he rejoiced tliat there was a 
 brioht side to human life on which he loved to look. He 
 was no croaker, no chronic complainer. God was good; 
 the Church was loving; his children were devoted; and 
 above all else of a mere earthly nature, he had been blessed 
 for more than the third of a century with the tenderest love 
 of a pure Christian wife. For all these, and for the success 
 of the ministry and the growth of the Church, he was abun- 
 dantly thankful. 
 
 With such an example before us as was Bishop Paine, let 
 the preachers of this day look up and be thankful. Let 
 them exhaust the blue of the sky, the green of the earth, 
 the beauties of nature, and the power of divine grace, before 
 they make themselves the terror of others by croaking worse 
 than the ravens, or by complaints harsher than the cry of the 
 bittern. 
 
BISHOP OF Tin: m. e. church, south. 271 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 Inner Life — Vanderbilt University — (Jeneral Conference. 
 
 THE inner life of the best men is sometimes concealed 
 from their most intimate friends. They are not dem- 
 onstrative. They do not care to obtrude their secret 
 comnmnings Avitli God before the public. These feelings 
 are so sacred that they are withheld from the public gaze. 
 I am sure that those on the most intimate terms with Bish- 
 op Paine were not made acquainted with the depth and fer- 
 vor of his religious feelings. He kept them to himself. His 
 brief entries in his diary often show us what Avas not known 
 during his life. 
 
 On January 1, 1874, he whites: "Thank my God for all 
 the mercies to me and mine of the past year. I renew my 
 vows of consecration. Make me holy, useful, and patient, 
 Save me from sin, death, and debt this year — myself and 
 family." These vows of consecration were being constantly 
 renewed. It w^as his invariable habit during his long life on 
 the 1st of January, the 9th of October, and the 12th of No- 
 vember to reconsecrate himself in the most humble and sol- 
 emn manner to the service of God. He did this not merel}^ 
 as a matter of duty, but as a high privilege. Gratitude for 
 God's special care of him and his is ever seen mingling with 
 the vow of renewed devotion to his holy cause. 
 
 On January 14, 1874, the Board of Trust of Vanderbilt 
 University met in Memphis, Tenn. Bishop Paine was pres- 
 ent, greatly to the satisfaction of the Board. At this meet- 
 ing Dr. L. C. Garland was chosen Chancellor. Drs. Sum- 
 mers, Shipp, Wills, and Lupton were also appointed to 
 
272 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 prominent places in the Faculty. It was also determined 
 that on January 15, 1875, the university should open its 
 doors for the reception of students. The Board continued 
 in session for some days, and had no wiser or more efficient 
 member than was their ever-faithful friend to education. 
 He rejoiced with exceeding great joy as the prospect of a 
 university of the highest order seemed now certain of reali- 
 zation — that too during his own day. He had no misgivings 
 as to a theological department. He felt that the time had 
 come in the history of Methodism when candidates for the 
 ministry should have all the advantages of a thorough the- 
 ological education. 
 
 On the 21st of February his heart was made glad by the 
 return of his son John Emory, who had graduated with the 
 highest honors at the Medical University of New York. He 
 had taken the first prize, and this added to the gratification 
 of his venerable father. His son George was in the senior 
 class at the University of Mississipj^i, and received the de- 
 gree of A.B. at its annual commencement in the summer. 
 Both of these events were noted with great satisfaction. It 
 was indeed cause for thanksgiving. These were noble sons, 
 worthy of their father. Both had distinguished themselves 
 in their classes, and both were young gentlemen of high 
 moral character. 
 
 On his way to the General Conference in Louisville he 
 stopped for a few days with his old pupils in Florence, Ala. 
 He was renewing his youth with such men as Judge W. B. 
 Wood, Gov. E. A. O'Neal, and Judge H. E. Jones. They 
 had been his pupils more than thirty-five 3'ears before, and 
 were men of the highest position, and were ever ready for 
 every good word and work in Church and in the State of 
 which O'Neal became Governor and in which both Jones 
 and Wood were prominent and distinguished citizens, hold- 
 ing high offices of both honor and trust. It was not often 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 273 
 
 that the Bishop during his wliole career stoi)perI by the way 
 as a mere matter of social enjoyment with old pupils. 
 
 From Florence he went to Nasliville to attend the cere- 
 monies of laying the corner-stone of the great university. 
 He was a prominent and gratified actor in these ceremonies, 
 and showed much more feeling than he was accustomed t(j do. 
 
 At the General Conference, held in Louisville, May, 
 1874, he was placed in the excellent family of Hon. T. 
 L. Jefferson. His stay was a benediction to the whole 
 family. He has been remembered ever since with the 
 most cordial affection. His presence did not bring gloom, 
 but sunshine. His company was attractive, and noth- 
 ing either in his manners or in his words was in the least 
 repulsive. He was still the Christian gentleman, as well 
 as the Christian Bishop. He presided oflen during the 
 General Conference, and always with satisfaction. The Con- 
 ference was a deeply interesting one to our common Method- 
 ism. It received fraternal delegates from the Methodist 
 Episcopal Church for the first time since the organization 
 of the Church in 1845. That was no fault of the Church, 
 South. A fi*aternal delegate sent by the Southern Church 
 had been rejected in 1848. It was a wonderful fact that 
 Dr. Lovick Pierce, the rejected delegate of 1848, was on 
 the platform in 1874. He was then possibly the oldest 
 Methodist preacher on the continent. It must have been 
 a gratification beyond measure to the Christian heart of 
 this veteran of ninety years to witness these fraternal greet- 
 ings. They were just such as reflected glory and honor 
 upon our holy religion and upon the eloquent men who 
 represented the Methodist Episcopal Church on that mem- 
 orable occasion. Bishop Paine as the senior Bishop might 
 have presided on that occasion, but he did not. His mag- 
 nanimity urged him to put forward his colleague, P>ish()p 
 McTyeire, who had given him such prominence at the in- 
 18 
 
274 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 augurating ceremonies of the Vanderbilt. Bishop Paine 
 was. never to be outdone in magnanimity. He modestly 
 sat back on the platform, and Avituessed such exhibitions of 
 Christian love as can never be forgotten. It was during 
 these greetings that Dr. Hunt, one of the fraternal messen- 
 gers, read an autograph letter from the father of American 
 Methodism, Bishop Asbury. The letter had all the marks 
 of age. It was evidently genuine, and had been kept by 
 some loving old Methodist as a souvenir of great value. 
 After reading it, the Doctor turned with infinite grace, and 
 with the tenderest Christian feelings presented the letter as 
 a gift to the venerable Dr. Lovick Pierce, and accompanied 
 the present with such words as moved the whole audience. 
 •Bishop McTyeire replied in the happiest spirit and style to 
 the words of love which had been uttered by Drs. Hunt, 
 Fowler, and General Fisk, and the fraternal messengers. 
 He then said : " Brethren, if it please you it will gratify us 
 that you take your place on the platform and feel perfectly 
 at home with these representatives of the Church, South." 
 Thus ended one of the most interesting and important 
 events in the history of Methodism. During this General 
 Conference there were several Sunday-school mass-meetings 
 held in Library Hall, and attended by immense audiences. 
 Bishop Paine notes his presiding at one "at which there 
 were four thousand persons present." Dr. A. L. P. Green 
 made his last Sabbath-school address at this meeting. He 
 was very feeble and much worn down with the malady 
 which closed his useful life. He was bright and cheerful, 
 and made one of the best addresses ever delivered on such 
 an occasion. The speech was so bright and cheerful, so ap- 
 propriate to children, and so instructive to all, that no one 
 dreamed of the great suffering of the speaker or of his near- 
 ness to the grave. In a day or two he went home to die. 
 In his death Bishop Paine felt that he had met with a great 
 
BISIIOr OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 275 
 
 pei-sonal loss. They had been friends for more than half 
 a century. During all this time their devotion to each 
 other had been the purest and strongest, and had increased 
 with their years. 
 
 During this same Conference the Rev. Fountain E. Pitts, 
 another of the Bishop's Tennessee Conference friends, true 
 and tried, was also called to his " eternal home." The Bishop 
 participated in his memorial-services, and delivered on the 
 occasion a brief but eloquent and appropriate address. 
 
 Before the close of the year the Tennessee Conference lost 
 another distinguished member who was also one of the Bish- 
 op's early friends. A purer man never lived than w^as the 
 Rev. Thomas Maddin. He was the highly cultivated Chris- 
 tian gentleman, and the humble Christian with a character 
 faithfully modeled after Him whom he preached with so 
 much eloquence and success for so many years. Thus were 
 going nearly all those who were the companions-in-arms with 
 Robert Paine when he wielded the sword of the Sj^irit with 
 such vigor in his young manhood. Of all these, Dr. A. L. 
 P. Green was the most intimate friend of the Bishop. " Wise, 
 unselfish, devoted," are the adjectives which he applies to 
 him, and calls him his most intimate friend on earth. 
 
276 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.r>. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 SEVENTY-FIFTir ANNIVERSARY — Do:MESTIC AFFLICTIONS — HeROTC 
 
 Devotion to Duty. 
 
 AFTER holding many District Conferences, preaching 
 whenever opportunity offered, ordaining and baptizing, 
 during the summer of 1874, he held the Memphis Confer- 
 ence at Humboldt, November 18 ; the Mississippi Conference 
 at Hazlehurst, December 16; and this closed up the ^vork of 
 another laborious year. 
 
 It so happened that he was at home on the seventN'-fifth 
 anniversary of his birth. He had been generally absent 
 on the return of these anniversaries. As he was at home, 
 his wife determined to give him a Christmas festival. 
 This was done. The children were there. The house was 
 bright. The supper was elegant. The religious services, 
 conducted by Rev. William Murrah, were very appro- 
 priate. All passed off just as such a^n occasion, under the 
 management of a noble Christian woman and a true wife 
 such as was Mrs. Paine, is always sure to pass. The old 
 Bishop enjoyed the day which began his seventy-sixth year 
 as much as most men of fifty enjoy their birthdays. He re- 
 membered the past without regret; he enjoyed the present 
 without any alloy of bitterness, and looked to an eternal 
 future with the most joyful ho2)e. 
 
 The new year, 1875, found the Bishop away from home 
 on Conference duties. He was on his way to Alexandria, 
 La. He was much exposed on the route, and on the Sab- 
 bath of the Conference he was compelled to cross Red River 
 in an open skiff in order to reach the church in which he 
 was to preach and ordain deacons and elders. He became 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. K. CnURCII, SOUTH. 277 
 
 very eokl, and sutlbrcd niiu-li while at church. In a shoit 
 time lie felt the beginning of the distressing niahidy which, 
 after years of snfiering, finally terminated his life. He 
 ought to have rested this whole year, but he did not. He 
 Avas determined to die on the field. During the year he 
 ])resided at District Conferences in Tennessee and Missis- 
 sippi, and preached whenever opportunity afforded and as 
 he was able to do so. 
 
 He had sad domestic afflictions. A beautiful grandchild 
 bright and attractive, died at his house. The child Avas jus: 
 at that interesting age when its innocent prattle and winning 
 ways were so well calculated to kindle the tenderest feeling^5 
 in the heart of the grand old man. But a still heavier sor- 
 row fell upon him in the death of his son, John Emory Paine, 
 M.D. He had but recently married an accomplished wife, 
 and had just entered upon a career which promised both 
 usefulness and distinction. He was called at midnifrht to 
 see a patient some six miles distant. Though very unwell, he 
 went, and returned at four a.m. very ill. He never rallied. 
 The Bishop was with him, and prayed with and for him. 
 The young man was at first much concerned, and joined his 
 father in earnest prayer for his recovery and for his soul's 
 salvation. He became very happy, and died in great peace 
 The Bishop makes this brief entry in his diary: "Wed. 10] 
 o'clock, Sept. 15, 1875, my son John Emory died, 'all bright 
 and happy;' called by name all present, and said to each, 
 'Promise to meet me in heaven.' They all promised. 
 Sick less than three days. O what a death — so sudden, 
 and yet so bright ! Thank God for his grace, to renew- and 
 prepare for heaven. Here, Lord, I give myself to thee — 
 'tis all that I can do. O Lord save my family!" The 
 dear young man was buried on September IG. On the 17th 
 of September his sorrowing father was called to preach the 
 funeral-sermon of an old friend and foi-mer pujnl, Dr. T. 
 
278 LIFK OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 A. Sykes. He did not hesitate to go. He felt that in 
 comforting others he woukl be comforted. Of course it 
 \vas a great cross, but " no cross no crown." None but 
 those called under like circumstances to preach and admin- 
 ister consolation to others can fully appreciate the position 
 of the Bishop. Just turning away from the grave of a be- 
 loved son who had died in the fresh vigor of young man- 
 hood, and with every prospect of a successful and happy 
 career before him, he is called to minister to the sorrows 
 of others, and to commemorate the virtues of a deceased 
 pupil. His text was : " Be ye steadfast, unmovable, always 
 abounding in the work of the Lord." It enabled him to 
 bring before tlie congregation the assurance of a glorious 
 resurrection. This was comfort. This was joy. A month 
 aller the death of his son, we find him in Nashville at the 
 opening of the Vanderbilt University. He listened with 
 great pleasure to the eloquent sermon of Bishop Doggett 
 on the "Dynamics of the religion of Christ," and also to 
 the learned and polished address of Bishop William M. 
 Wightman. It was his part to address the students. He 
 always loved young men. He looked now upon these, as- 
 sembled from almost every Southern State, with unusual 
 hope. They were to be under the instruction of the most 
 accomplished teachers, and were to have opportunities of 
 culture such as had not been enjoyed before at any Meth- 
 odist college. The scene inspired him, and " the old man 
 eloquent" uttered such words as the good and great only 
 can utter. In the opening of this great university he 
 realized a "hope which had long been deferred," and re- 
 joiced in its realization. He placed his youngest son in the 
 institution, whose success he believed already assured. It 
 must have been a gratification to all the friends of the uni- 
 versity that in Bishop Paine it iiad one of its warmest and 
 most enthusastic supporters. 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH^ SOUTH. 279 
 
 At the close of tlic seventy-sixth year of his age, he 
 held three Annual Conferences, preaching and ordaining 
 deacons and elders. Thus closed a year of deej) flimily and 
 personal affliction. Yet he saw much to encourage him. 
 The dark night of political misrule was passing away 
 ironi his beloved peojde. The country was progressing. 
 The Church was moving forward. The educational outlook 
 was more hopeful. He thanked God and took courage, 
 and expressed the hope that the old flag might once more 
 float over a united and happy people. 
 
 In January, 1876, another great afiliction fell unexpect- 
 edly upon the church of Aberdeen, and was most deeply 
 felt by Bishop Paine. Judge John Burrus Sale died. He 
 had been educated at La Grange College under the Presi- 
 dency of Robert Paine. A wild boy, he had been gently 
 led to Christ largely through the influence of his teachings. 
 He was a man of high character and large influence. His 
 talents were such ps to give him the first position at the 
 bar, and his piety i)laeed him among the foremost in the 
 Church. His fiither, the Rev. Alexander Sale, who has 
 been before mentioned in these pages, was a preacher of 
 high standing in the Virginia Conference, and was one of 
 the pioneer itinerant preachers in the early history of Ala- 
 bama. He was a member of the Board of Trustees of La 
 Grange College, and he and Bishop Paine were life-long 
 and devoted friends. The son was nuich like his father. 
 He was tall and commanding in pea-son, and seemed destined 
 to a long life. But God saw otherwise, and "took him." 
 The Bishop was with him in his last sickness, and prayed 
 with him, and conversed freely with him as to his future. 
 All was well. He died full of the Holy Ghost and of faith. 
 The Bishop says: "He was my l)est friend in Aberdeen." 
 He was his pu})il more than a tiiird ol' a century before, 
 and for many years had been his neighbor and friend and 
 
280 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 counselor. The Bishop preached the funeral-sermon of 
 his old friend, and committed dust to dust until the resur- 
 rection. The sermon was on "Christ, the first -fruits of 
 them that slept." He loved more and more to dwell upon 
 Christ as the resurrection and the life. The theme inspired 
 and comforted him, and enabled him to speak words of con- 
 solation to others. 
 
 During the winter and spring of 1876 he remained most 
 of the time at his home. He was not well. He was often 
 not able to be at the church on Sabbath, and preached only 
 a few times. In May, ho^yever, he determined to attend 
 the Bishops' meeting at Nashville. His ever-faithful wife 
 accompanied him. He was still unable to preach, and list- 
 ened with pleasure to Bishop Doggett, as he preached on 
 the "Progress of Methodism durins; the nineteenth centu- 
 ry." Of all this progress he had been a witness, and for 
 more than fifty years had contributed largely to it. The 
 eloquent utterances of his colleague filled him with grati- 
 tude as he portrayed the past, and with hope as he looked 
 to the future of his beloved Methodism. 
 
 After the Bishops' meeting, he attended the Gallatin Dis- 
 trict Conference, and preached on Sabbath in the open air 
 to a vast concourse. His sermon was just one hour long 
 on the text, "Surely this man was the Son of God." He 
 then attended a District Conference near Decatur, Alabama, 
 at Trinity, and preached again in the open air on the 
 " Temptation of Christ." He had the pleasure of meeting 
 his only living sister, Mrs. Abernathy, and of having her 
 accompany him to his home in Aberdeen. These two were 
 now left alone of all the brothers and sisters of that once 
 large family. He continued to attend District Conferences 
 and preached during the summer as he had ability. It is 
 really astonishing to see what work he did. After an ex- 
 hausting sermon, he writes: "I preached too long and hard. 
 
BISIIOr OF THE 1\I. K. CHURCH, SOUTH. 281 
 
 Would that I knew how to preach easy! Dr. Green did. 
 80 do Dr. Parker and Bishop McTyeire and Dr. Young." 
 In August of this year the commissioners on the part of 
 the two Episcopal JNIethodisms in the United States met 
 and agreed upon terms of fraternity. This settlement of 
 great principles evoked the i)rayer from the Bishop, "May 
 all be wise, good, perpetual. If love and peace result, what 
 a blessing ! " Soon after these terms were settled he attended 
 the Illinois Conference cf the Methodist Episcopal Church, 
 South. Here he had the i)leasure of meeting with his old 
 friend the Rev. Peter Akers. They exchanged frateriuil 
 greetings, and met and parted as brethren beloved. The 
 Conference was held at Jacksonville ; and when the resolu- 
 tions on fraternity were presented, Dr. Akers made a char- 
 acteristic speech, and all felt that the long ecclesiastical war 
 was over. On his way home Bishop Paine received intelli- 
 gence of the heroic death of Dr. E. H. Myers, one of the 
 peace commissioners. He was stationed at Savannah, 
 Georgia, and upon hearing that the yellow fever was rag- 
 ing there he at once hurried to his suffering people. Alas! 
 he Avent as a martyr. With love in his heart and heaven in 
 his eye, he rushed to his own death. On his return to his 
 home. Bishop Paine found his daughter-in-law, the wife of 
 his son Robert, lying at the point to die. He had with 
 her an affectionate Christian talk and a humble, earnest 
 ])rayer. She was a beautiful Christian character, and died 
 in joyftil hope of eternal rest. This death was followed 
 very soon by the death of another friend and neighbor, the 
 Rev. B. B. Barker, who also died in great peace. He bore 
 these bereavements just as a trusting Christian always does. 
 " Thy will be done," These were his words, and they ex- 
 pressed fortitude, faith, resignation, and hope. All was 
 well. He was at his post as presiding Bishop at the Ala- 
 bama Conference, where lie was alwavs welcome. It was 
 
282 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 held this year at Demopolis. Here he met his former con- 
 frere in ike cause of education, Dr. Henry Tutwiler. The 
 meeting of these old and true Christian gentlemen was such 
 as to remind one of the meeting of loved ones in the home 
 of the blessed. He was able to preach and go through the 
 services of ordination without any serious inconvenience. 
 The Conference closed on December 12, and he left imme- 
 diately for Nashville, Tennessee. The Publishing House 
 was in trouble. The Bishops Avere to hold a consultation 
 with the Book Committee, and to advise as to what w^as 
 best to be done to relieve this great Church enterprise of 
 its trouble. His love of the Church, his great caution, his 
 keen foresight, and his large financial ability were all 
 brought into requisition at this meeting. It was deter- 
 mined to have all the affairs of the House thoroughly exam- 
 ined by experts, and a full and correct statement of its con- 
 dition presented to the Church. The result of all this has 
 been the restoration of confidence in the House and the as- 
 surance of its final relief from its difficulties and of a certain 
 career of prosperity and usefulness. Thus closed the seven- 
 ty-seventh year of a life of continuous labor, and the sixtieth 
 of active Avork as an itinerant Methodist preacher. He 
 had noAV been thirty years a Bishop, fulfilling his most sol- 
 emn vows and doing the work of a chief pastor with great 
 ability and enlarged usefulness. 
 
 The winter of 1876 and 1877 was intensely severe. The 
 Bishop says in his diary that the snow fell in Aberdeen to 
 the depth of two feet. It was the deepest that had been 
 seen for sixty years. The cold weather kept him in-doors 
 most of the winter. So soon as the spring opened he began 
 work w ith his usual energy. He attended District Confer- 
 ences in Louisiana, Tennessee, Kentucky, Mississippi, Ala- 
 bama, and Florida. He also attended by invitation from 
 Dr. D. C. Kelley the last communion held in the old McKen- 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHUKCII, SOUTH. 283 
 
 dree Church, at Nashville. He had witnessed the growth 
 of Methodism for sixty years in that city. He had been 
 the pastor there in the early part of his ministry. He had 
 married liis first wife in Nashville, and had laid her sacred 
 dust there among her kindred, to sleep in quiet until the 
 resurrection. Many of his happiest days had been spent 
 in Nashville, and he accepted the invitation to go hundreds 
 of miles to enjoy the lust communion in the house which 
 had the name of McKendree, so dear to him. The old 
 structure was to be torn down and a new one to be erected 
 in its stead. Nearly all the old pastors who were living 
 were at that last gathering. It was an occasion long to be 
 remembered. A new temple was to be erected whose glory 
 should far exceed the beauty of the one in which this eu- 
 charistic feast was to be celebrated for the last time. Bish- 
 op McTyeire w^as there to lead in the exercises, which were 
 deeply impressive, and which touched the deepest sympathies 
 of his venerable colleague. He enjoyed them. He felt re- 
 paid for all the fatigue of the trip. While sacred memories 
 were called up, the occasion was also a prophecy. It fore- 
 shadowed still greater prosperity and success to his beloved 
 Methodism in this growing city. Here was the Book Con- 
 cern, which, though greatly embarrassed, he hoped to see 
 relieved of all its disabilities and going forward in a career 
 of sreat usefulness to the countrv. Here, too, was the Van- 
 derbilt. The outlook was magnificent. He was almost 
 ready to say : " Now, Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart 
 in peace." He was again at the Bishops' meeting in Nash- 
 ville,.at which initial steps were taken to raise a sum for 
 the suffering Pu])lishing House. 
 
 During the summer he was absent a great deal. He was 
 preaching with nuich more satisfaction to others than to 
 himself After preaching at a District Conference to a 
 large crowd assembled in a grove, lie writes: "Preached on 
 
284 LIFE OF ROBERT PAIXE, D.D. ' 
 
 Heb. vii. 25. Christ able to save. Poor affair. My ideal 
 of 2^ reaching above my practice. AVish I could preach. 
 O that I could be useful, and see present fruits." To see 
 fruits — present fruits — was the great desire of his heart. 
 Because these fruits Avere not always visible, he was grieved. 
 He loved souls. He sought to save those whom he knew were 
 the redeemed by Christ. He knew there was power in the 
 gospel. He felt that it ought to produce immediate and 
 powerful results. 
 
 In August he left home to attend the Kentucky Conference. 
 He stopped at Louisville, and was the guest of his very true 
 friend Hon. T. L. Jefferson. I happened to meet him. I 
 had not seen him since the General Conference at Louis- 
 ville, 1874. I could see that his powerful physical man- 
 hood was giving way. His hearing was much impaired, 
 and he seemed to be suffering. We spent some two hours 
 together. He gave me much good advice. He was bright 
 and cheerful, and I never saw him more pleasant; yet, 
 with the weight of nearly seventy-eight years upon him, he 
 was beginning to show evidences of yielding. After hold- 
 ing the Kentucky Conference at Winchester, he returned 
 to Louisville and rested for some days at the delightful 
 home of Brother Thos. L. Jefferson. He also preached on 
 Sabbath at Chestnut Street Church. Here he was wel- 
 comed by Dr. Messick, the pastor, and his flock, who all 
 enjoyed the ministrations of the venerable servant of God 
 and the Church. He was a most welcome guest in the 
 family of Mr. Jefferson. He had none of the moroseness 
 which renders old age often repulsive. He was frcqujntly 
 ])layful, and always agreeable. He exercised that beautiful 
 grace Avliich never behaves itself unseemly. 
 
 After resting a short while at home, he attended tlie 
 German Mission Conference at Houston, Texas. While 
 there he heard of the death of Bishop Marvin, three days 
 
r.Tsirop OF THE M. E. criurnr, south. 285 
 
 after Its (.cvurrenec. He says: ''I mourn for a colWue 
 gifted, holy, and useful." Again he enters in his diary: 
 i^ishop .Marvui died in 8t. Louis at fbur a.m. on November 
 2h. Did not liear of it till to-day, Novendier 29. A most 
 devoted, useful, and gifted minister of Christ. A great loss 
 to the Church. So very sorry to lose him! Lately round 
 the world. Too much work and worry for so frail a body " 
 Ihe death of Bishop iMarvin was unexpected, and fell heav- 
 ily upon the whole Church. He was an evangelist. He 
 was thoroughly consecrated. He never seemed to think of 
 self. He hterally died sword in hand, "still warm with 
 recent fight." His death made the sixth that had taken 
 place in iU Episcopal Board since Bishop Paine had been 
 ordained in 1846. Soule, Capers, Andrew, Bascom, Earlv, 
 and Marvin, had all been called awav by the silent mes- 
 senger. Six of his colleagues gone ! The death of none of 
 them seemed to affect him so much as the death of Enoch 
 Mather Marvin. It was so unexpected. He had not 
 if bought once of seeing this young Bishop depart and leave 
 him. Another death near the same time greatly grieved 
 him. This was the death of Brother Moss, presiding elder 
 in the Memphis Conference. Moss was a rising man His 
 preaching ability was of a very high order. His vivid im- 
 agination, his numerous and apt illustrations always ex- 
 pressed in choice language, his vehemence as manifested 
 both in th^ impassioned thoughts and in the streno-th of 
 voice, all made him one of the most powerful preaclfers in 
 the Memphis Conference. His death was a great loss to the 
 Church, and especially to the Memphis Conference. The 
 Bishop closed the labors of this year by holding the Louis- 
 iana Conference at Opelousas, Louisiana. He was now 
 seventy-eight years of age. During this year he held 
 twelve District Conferences in six different States. He had 
 gone twice to Nashville-fii-st to attend the last communion 
 
286 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 in the old McKendree Church, and then to be at the Bit>li- 
 ops' meeting. He had preached often in country churches, 
 and had baptized both children and adults. Was he not 
 
 in labors abundant? He had not yet crossed the " dead- 
 
 ■ 
 
 line.'' He was welcomed to every home, desired in all the 
 pulpits, and no one was more popular than he in the cabi- 
 net or in the chair. 
 
 The year 1878 was passed by the Bishop in great suffer- 
 ing. He became greatly emaciated. His nights afforded 
 him but little sound natural sleep. During the days he 
 endured almost intolerable pain. He tried Lithia-water, 
 but it gave him no relief. He consulted the best physicians, 
 and they were unable to render him any assistance. He 
 was dying by inches. We no longer accompany him in 
 active labor, for afflicted as he was with an incurable mala- 
 dy of a most painful character and with the weight of near- 
 ly four-score years upon him, he was no longer able to do 
 the active work which had been his delight for more than 
 sixty years. He Avas, however, determined to do what he 
 could. His first work was to attend the session of the Gen- 
 eral Conference at Atlanta, Georgia. He was most com-, 
 fortably entertained in the family of Governor Colquitt. 
 Here he had every attention that Christian culture and 
 love could give. He presided a few times, but was frequent- 
 ly too unwell to attend, and was able to attempt to preach 
 but once during the Conference. He, however, took the 
 liveliest interest in all the questions that came uj) for dis- 
 cussion or for legal decision. He had implicit confidence 
 in his colleagues, and felt all secure with them conducting 
 the great interests of the Church. After the Conference he 
 spent a short time in Georgia at the home of his son James, 
 but was unable to preach or even to attend church. He 
 arrived at home early in June and remained until the last 
 of the month. Sick and suflTering as he was, he attended a 
 
UTSiiop OF Tin: m. e. rnunrn, south. 287 
 
 District Conference at Scnatohia, INIississippi. He preached 
 on Sabbatli from the text, " Knowing that he which raised 
 up the Lord Jesus shall raise up us also by Jesus, and shall 
 present us \vith you " (2 Corinthians iv. 14). Though 
 greatly exhausted, he did not suffer so much from the eff()rt 
 to preach as he feared. He also attended a District Con- 
 ference on the 5th of July at luka, Mississippi. He was 
 unable to preach, and was suffering constant and severe 
 pain. He got ready to attend other District Conferences, 
 but found himself unable to do so. Besides, the yellow fe- 
 ver was prevailing at Water Valley, Holly S})rings, and at 
 other towns in Mississippi. A panic prevailed even at 
 Aberdeen, and many families left. He therefore remained 
 at home, "suffering greatly day and night." He con- 
 sented to hold the Memphis Conference at Jackson, Ten- 
 nessee, on December 4; the Xorth Mississi})pi at Macon, 
 December 11; and the Mississippi, on December 18. He 
 attended and held the first two, but w^as unable to do more. 
 Exhausted with pain and too feeble to go on with his w ork, 
 he telegraphed to one of his colleagues that he could do no 
 more. He returned home feeling and writing that his work 
 was nearly done. During the rest of the winter 1878-79 he 
 was able to do nothing, and was so feeble and in a state of 
 so great suffering that he was not even able to attend church 
 until the 20th of April. Feeble as he was, he attended 
 the Bishops' meeting at Nashville in May. From Nashville 
 he went to Hurricane Springs. Here he tried to preach 
 sitting in his chair, from John xiv. 1-3. He talked famil- 
 iarly, hopefully, and yet seriously, on our Father's house 
 with many mansions, and had the solemn attention of the 
 little company assembled to hear him. He did not exert 
 himself, and yet he suffei-ed intensely, and had to remain 
 closely in his room all the next day. The water of the 
 springs did not suit his case. The secretion of the blood 
 
288 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 became greater, aud his sufferings increased. He therefore 
 left the springs and returned home. While 'at home he 
 penned the following letter : 
 
 Dear Brother McFerrin: Let me congratulate yon, your able and 
 noble Book Committee, as well as all other members and friends 
 who have contributed to sustain the honor of our Southern Method- 
 ism. It thrilled my heart to learn that the big debt of S300,000 had 
 been provided for. Hear it! The Methodists, South, do not repu- 
 diate an honest debt. Tliey, like all other honest men, frankly con- 
 fess it, and pay it as soon as they can. Poor we may be — and how 
 poor we are down here those North cannot conceive — yet our Metli- 
 odism is a debt-paying religion. In this respect at least we are true 
 Wesleyans, and no man shall take this honor from us. And now let 
 us pay promptly our subscriptions, and go forward to meet our obliga- 
 tions to God and man by sending the gospel to the whole world. 
 
 My health has not improved much. I am feeble, and sometimes 
 suffer intensely. Then 1 can do nothing but endure. At other times 
 I am comparatively easy. How I may do my work at my Annual 
 Conferences I cannot tell; but it is my purpose to attend them (Z). 
 v.), and do the best I can. They lie among my old friends, and I 
 want to see the members again. They will sustain me and bear with 
 me as they have heretofore done. I know this. Bishop Pierce has, in 
 two notes, tendered me his assistance at Murfreesboro; and while un- 
 willing to impose any additional labor upon one who I fear has already 
 taken too much upon himself, yet, as he assures me that neither liis 
 convenience nor his present state of health forbids, I have invited him 
 to come. My strength may fail ; and, anyhow, I am sure we will be 
 greatly delighted to have him with us. Above all, may God be with 
 us always! Your old friend and brother, R. Paine. 
 
 Aberdeen, Mis?., Sept. 30. 1879. 
 
 He continued at home until October, unable to do any 
 work. On October 1, 1879, he left home, suffering and fee- 
 ble as he was, and attended the Tennessee Conference at 
 Murfreesboro. Here he had the valuable assistance of 
 Bishop Doggett. Bishop Doggett preached a great sermoai 
 on "The judgment of the last day," and Bishop Paine per- 
 formed the ordination services. After the close of the Con- 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 289 
 
 ference he went to the Red Sulphur Springs, in Macon coun- 
 ty, Tennessee. He had to go over u rough road, by jn-ivate 
 conveyance, and suflind much on the trip. He staid at 
 tlie sj^rings some three weeks, but derived no benefit from 
 the waters. Still brave, and determined to work as long as 
 he had any strength at all, he left for the North Alabama 
 Conference, which he held at Tuscaloosa. It will be re- 
 membered that he had traveled on the Tuscaloosa Circuit 
 in his youth, when Tuscaloosa was a small village, and that 
 his circuit extended from where Demopolis now stands to 
 the State line on the north. He had lived among the 
 mountains of North Alabama in the prime of his manhood, 
 and had frequently visited the City of Oaks in the interest 
 of La Grange College. He was now there for the last time. 
 The wilderness had indeed been made to rejoice. He now 
 presided over a flourishing Conference, and the territory 
 over which the boy-preacher traveled was now occupied by 
 thirty or forty preachers. The wonderful development of 
 North Alabama was not unexpected to him. Its vast min- 
 eral wealth had been foretold by him forty years before. 
 The spirit of the Conference cheered him in the midst of 
 pain and feebleness. There was life in that Conference. 
 It was abreast of the age. He saw a grand future opening 
 before it. He ordained sixteen deacons and eight elders, 
 and at the close of the Conference felt better than at the 
 beginning. He went directly from the North Alabama Con- 
 ference to Greensboro, Alabama. He preached to the stu- 
 dents of the university, though unable to stand. Indeed, he 
 was not able to preach sitting on his chair ; but he was so 
 anxious to lead young men to Christ that in spite of pain 
 and feebleness he gave them such godly counsel as his 
 whole life so well fitted him to give. Accompanied by his 
 devoted wife, he went from Greensboro to Tuskegee, Ala- 
 bama, the seat of the Alabama Conference. I had not 
 19 
 
290 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 seen liini for several years. I was sliocked when I l((ked 
 upon that once compact, manly, erect form so wasted by dis- 
 ease and the infirmities of age. His eyes still beamed with 
 the light of other days. He gave me a tender, cordial 
 grasp, and uttered so many bright, playful words that he 
 soon removed the sadness which his quick eye readily saw 
 overspreading my countenance. I ofi'ered to assist him in 
 going from one car to another, but he pleasantly said : " Let 
 me help you, Rivers." He said this referring to my lame- 
 ness, which often seemed to demand help. There were 
 quite a number of preachers on the way to Conference, and 
 none seemed to be in better spirits than the venerable Bishop. 
 His pale countenance gave evidence of constant suffering, 
 but his words did not indicate at all what he was constantly 
 enduring. He said playfully that one of the Bishops had 
 kindly oflTered to assist him, but that he hoped to be able 
 to hold the Conference without having to call upon one of 
 his colleagues. Conversing thus cheerfully, we arrived at 
 Tuskegee, Alabama, December 16, 1879. He was often 
 unable to be at the Conference before ten o'clock, and while 
 in the chair seemed to be suffering most excruciating agony. 
 It was a very protracted session, and did not close until 
 late on Thursday night. 
 
 Before the appointments were read out, he delivered his 
 last talk to the Alabama Conference. It was as loving and 
 tender as ever were the words of John the beloved disciple. 
 It taught us patience, forbearance, and "sweet charity." It 
 was the unfolding of the heart of the venerable father to the 
 gaze of his sons. He spoke of his early ministry. He re- 
 ferred to changes which had taken place in his notions of 
 the administration of discipline. He was eloquent in the 
 softest and tenderest words that I had ever heard even from 
 his lips. He seemed to me to be the very embodiment of 
 love. The pale, wan face, the sunken eyes, and the trem- 
 
BISHOP OF TIIK M. K. CHURCH, SOlTir. 291 
 
 bliiig voice, together with the niidni<^ht hour — cold, freezing 
 Aveather — all together niade the closing scenes of the Ala- 
 banui Conference of 1879 the most tenderly inii)ressive that 
 I had ever witnessed. That night he pressed my iiand for 
 the last time. He said tenderly to me. "I shall soon be 
 gone. 'Tis all right." These were the last words he ever 
 spoke to his old pupil. 
 
 The night was cold, but cold as it was lie left for his 
 home, which he reached after great suffering and some delay. 
 The delay was at Selma, where he had the most gentle and 
 loving attention of his friend Mrs. Maria Byrd, widow of his 
 old and dearly loved pupil Judge W. M. Byrd, assisted by the 
 gentle hands of her affectionate Christian daughters, Misses 
 Sallie and Luna. He arrived at home in a suffering con- 
 dition, and wrote in his diary : " I doubt if I can ever hold 
 another Conference. Still losing blood. Have done so little 
 good am ashamed, but I have tried to be honest and faith- 
 ful and rely on God's mercy in Christ." Again he writes : 
 " Feeble, trusting. The gospel only assures us of immortal 
 happiness. 'We know.' It is enough for faith. I do be- 
 lieve." He did, however, attend the Bishops' meeting in 
 Kashville, and received all the care and attention he so 
 greatly needed at the hospitable home of Captain Fite, who 
 married the daughter of his old friend Dr. A. L. P. Green. 
 As he was suffering so much, he remained away ffom home 
 but a short time. 
 
 On the 9tli of October he remembered his spiritual birth- 
 day. With an energy and determination which astonished 
 his most intimate friends, he attended the Tennessee Con- 
 ference at Pulaski, Tennessee. Bishoj) McTyeire was with 
 him, and gave him valuable assistance. He enjoyed the 
 Conference at his old home, though all were gone whom he 
 knew in his boyhood, and when he was a merchant's clerk 
 
292 LIFE OF PvOBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 Still Suffering and Working — Dr. Palmer's Visit. 
 
 ON October 30, at home, he learned that Bishop Doggett 
 had preceded him — that he was dead! He felt this to 
 be a great calamity, and was much distressed. A great 
 man had fallen, and his venerable colleague was too feeble 
 to say a word on the sad occasion. Upon the anniversary 
 of his birth, he writes: "Eighty-one years old to-day. 
 Thank God! More purity, patience, and love." Again we 
 find him disappointing himself and astonishing his breth- 
 ren by attending the North Mississippi Conference at Co- 
 lumbus, Mississippi. And this ended his labors and his 
 sufferings for the year 1880. It was about this time, I 
 believe, that he was visited by that distinguished Presbyte- 
 rian minister Dr..B. M. Palmer, of New Orleans. We take 
 from the South-western Presbyterian the -following interesting 
 account of that visit as given by Dr. Palmer himself: 
 
 Mr. Editor : Few Christians of any denomination visit Aberdeen, 
 Mississijtpi, without paying their respects to the venerable Bishop 
 Paine, of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. The interview 
 with which I indulged a few days ago was so touching that I have 
 a flesire to put it on record for the benefit of others besides myself. 
 
 The conversation opened naturally with a reference to his state 
 of health, and to the severe chronic disease which more than his 
 gi eat age disables him from active service. " I cannot describe to you 
 my feelings," said this Christian patriarch, " when the physician 
 entreated me to cease preaching, and to rest henceforth from all 
 labor. It overwhelmed me to think that I should do notliing any 
 more to make the world better in which I lived." " I can ai)preciate 
 it, Bishop," Avas the reply. "It must be a solemn moment when we 
 realize that our work on earth is done, and we fold it uj) for tlie 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 293 
 
 judgment -day." "Ah!" said he, "if I were only permitted to 
 l>reacli airain, I would endeavor to do it with greater simplicity and 
 impressiveness. 1 would go directly for the conscience, and seek to 
 bring sinners at once to Christ." "If it is painful to you," I vent- 
 ured to suggest, "to be laid aside now, it must be a comfort to reflect 
 that rest comes to you after a long and laborious ministry." "Yes; 
 I thank God that I can look back over sixty years of active service, 
 and upon many tokens of tlie Divine blessing upon it." After 
 awhile the conversation drifted upon the suffering which it i)leased 
 the Master to send upon his aged servant. "It is very acute," said 
 he. "Only an hour before you came in, it seemed as great as I coidd 
 bear." "It is very mysterious," I rejoined, "that we should be let 
 out from life tlirougii so nnich suffering." " It is proper," he added, 
 "that we should seek to assuage pain; but I would not desire to have 
 mine a particle less than my Heavenly Father wills." "Bishop, I 
 luive sometimes thought a Christian should be willing to endure a 
 good deal of bodily pain, if he can thereby testify to the holiness 
 of God, who will not allow sin to go unreproved even in those 
 whom he loves and saves." "Ah! yes," replied he, "but the com- 
 plete vindication of the Divine holiness is to be found in the suffer- 
 ings upon the cross. No one can doubt this when he looks there." 
 Fearing to weary him, I rose to take my leave. With the sweet 
 courtesy which has always distinguished this Christian gentleman, 
 he followed me to the door, leaning upon his staff. After express- 
 ing satisfaction at my visit, he sent messages of love to the ministers 
 of his Church in New Orleans. "Remember me to Bishop Keener, 
 to Drs. Parker, Walker, and Matthews, and tell them I am very 
 near the other shore, and I think I know tiie landings." " Yes 
 Bishop, and the landing is very safe." "Blessed be God," he re- 
 plied, " I know the landing on tlie other side, and it is safe." Thus, 
 after the lapse of eighteen hundred years, from the lips of this 
 Christian patriarch falls the echo of Paul's cheerful testimony: "I 
 know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to 
 Koep that wliich I have committed unto Him against that day. " 
 
 B. M. Palmer. 
 
294 LIFE OF ROBERT RAINE, D.D. 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 "XoTES OF Life" — Wesley Hall — A Fraternal Meeting. 
 
 IN 1881, while suffering from the malady which was taking 
 his very life's blood and bringing him by steps slow and 
 painful to the grave, and while nervous and feeble as an in- 
 fant, he wrote for the Nashville Christian Advocate the series 
 of articles under the head of " Notes of Life." They were 
 copied in nearly all the Church papers, and read with thrill- 
 ing interest by thousands. They seemed almost like mes- 
 sages from the spirit land. He show^ed all the vigor of style, 
 and elegance yet simplicity of diction, which had charac- 
 terized the productions of his matured manhood and when 
 in vigor of bodily health. In May he went to the Bishops' 
 meeting at Nashville, and attended a District Conference 
 at Hobson's Chapel. He dedicated Wesley Hall and made 
 a speech on the occasion, of which this is a brief report : 
 
 "'This day,' said he, 'makes a new era in the history 
 of the Church. It is a day to be noted in our calendar. 
 I thank God that I have lived to see it, and to feel the in- 
 spiration of this occasion. Like the holy Simeon, though 
 I feel unworthy to use my name in connection with his, 
 I can say with a full heart. Nunc dimittis.' The ven- 
 erable Bishop then briefly reviewed the situation in the 
 South at the close of the war, and drew a graphic and touch- 
 ing picture of it as it lay bleeding and prostrate. ' It was 
 at this juncture,' he said, 'that the gift of Commodore Cor- 
 nelius Vanderbilt came as a beam of light in the great dark- 
 ness. The founding of Vanderbilt LTniversity was the ful- 
 fillment of long cherished hojies, and it was the answer to 
 many prayers.' The Bishop spoke with great feeling, and 
 as he warmed with his theme his feeble frame seemed tt) 
 
IJISHOP OF THE M. E. CIIUKC'H, SOUTH. 295 
 
 grow strong and his tremulous tones pealed out with the old 
 martial ring." * 
 
 He was satisfied now to depart and he with Christ, for his 
 eyes had seen the eomj)leti()n of a hall in whieh for gener- 
 ations to come the young disciples of Christ were to he pre- 
 pared for the great work of the ministry. As he looked 
 upon this child of the Church, with holy reverence he 
 adopted the language of Simeon upon the dedication of the 
 child Jesus: "Now, Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart in 
 peace, for mine eyes htxvc seen thy salvation." He was able 
 to attend but two Conferences during this year. Feeble 
 und suffering, he presided at the Memphis Conference held 
 at Bolivar, Tenn. "At this Conference a resolution was 
 adopted unanimously, all standing — the Secretary putting 
 the question — expressive of the sentiments of the brethren 
 in regard to the venerable presiding Bishop, Paine, the object 
 of the reverence and love of the members, old and young: 
 
 Besolved, Tliat we are devoutly tliankful to God tliat in liis prov- 
 idence lie has spared our beloved and venerable senior Bishop — the 
 Rev. Robert Paine — to visit ns once more as a Conference, and that 
 he has Ijeen enabled to preside with so much ability and satisfaction ; 
 and we pray that the blessings of the great Head of the Church may 
 strengthen and sustain him in his declining life, and bring him in 
 peace to his grave and in blessed triumph to heaven. 
 
 T. L. BoswELL, J. D. Rush, T. IT. Evans. 
 
 " Rev. T. L. Boswell delivered to the Bishop a very touch- 
 ing farew ell address. To this address the Bishop, sitting in 
 his chair, made a most tender response touching all hearts. 
 A beautiful picture will that service long remain hanging 
 in a choice place in memory's gallery. Hope, rich and 
 mellow, was the experience of our dear Bishop all through 
 the session, as shown in frequent utterances of lessons full 
 of wisdc^n and love. His words were those of one speaking 
 back to us from the land of rest and peace." f 
 
 *Xashville Chrinfiaii Advocate, f Il)id. 
 
296 LIFE OF ROBEIIT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 In January, 1882, while Bishop Peck of the Methodist 
 Episcopal Church, was holding a colored Conference in 
 Aberdeen, Miss., he was invited by Bishop Paine to pay 
 him a friendly social visit and dine with him. Other min- 
 isterial friends were invited to meet the Bishop and dine 
 also. Among them was the Rev. A. D. McVoy, President 
 of the Aberdeen Female College, who gives the following 
 account of what took place on that very interesting occasion : 
 
 SYRACUSE AND ABERDEEN— A FRATERNAL SCENE. 
 
 The meeting of Bishop Jesse T. Peck with Bishop Robert Paine 
 was no ordinary occasion. They were together in the General Con- 
 ference of 1844, and to-day, .January 21, 1882, Bishop Peck Avas in- 
 vited by Bishop Paine to dine with him. They liad not seen each 
 other in thirty-eight years. Rev. J. C. Hartzell, D.D., of New Or- 
 leans, accompanied Bishop Peck by invitation. The resident min- 
 isters of the Methodist and Presbyterian Churches, together with 
 Rev. Amos Kendall, presiding elder of the Aberdeen District, were 
 also present. Bishop Peck was presiding over the Mississippi Con- 
 ference (colored), now in session at this place. It was a privilege to 
 listen to the conversation of these venerable servants of God. How 
 vividly they recalled their former days, when they were young and 
 active in the service. Naturally their minds Avent back to the mem- 
 orable Conference of 1844, and they dwelt amid those eventful 
 scenes, little dreaming, as Bishop Paine remarked, that they were 
 making history the outcome of which would be so large and so im- 
 portant to the people of this nation. 
 
 The speech of Bishop Pierce was recalled when he said: "Let 
 New England go; she has been a thorn in our flesh long enough." 
 To which lUshop Peck replied: "New England cannot be spared, 
 nor South Carolina, nor Georgia, nor any other Southern State." 
 Then the rejoinder of Bishop Pierce in which he said tliat possibly 
 he had been too severe, but that he meant no offense; and as for 
 Bishop Peck, he said: "1 Avould not by my remarks rufile one single 
 hair on the top of his head." As Bishop Peck was l)ald even then, 
 tliis humorous reply was received by the large assembly with [)eals 
 3f laughter. At the table Bishop Peck remarked that he onjoyod 
 richly Bishop Pierce's pleasantry. 
 
lilSHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 297 
 
 Bishop Peck referred to the pleasure it ahvavs gave to see a man, 
 especially a nnnistcr, j^o down the hill of life gracefully, cheerfully, 
 and happily; an<l alhuled to Bishop Scott of his own Church as af- 
 fording an illustration of what he meant. Bishop Paine contntsted 
 the experience of two aged ministers he had heard bid farewell to 
 their respectiye CV.nferences-the one going down sad and despondent 
 about earthly matters; the other a greater sufferer from adverse cir- 
 cumstances, but buoyant, cheerful, and hopeful. Bishop Peck there- 
 upon related the anecdote of the elder Adams, when in his old ao-e 
 he said: "This tenement in which I have lived so long is going i.Uo 
 dilapidation, and as the owner does not propose to repair it, 1 am 
 making my arrangements to move out." Bishop Paine remarked- 
 I have long since lost all fear of death. I have passed that point 
 lorever. Death has lost all its terrors for me. I know no moment 
 except when asleep, that I am not racked with pain. It is a gre-it 
 deprivation to be held in forced inactivity when there is .so much 
 to be done for the Master; but the Lord knows best, and I submit 
 without a murmur to his will." "Yes," replied Bishop Peck, "I 
 know of your great labors in which the Lord has blessed you so 
 abundantly, and I rejoice to find you too going down life's journey so 
 gracefully, cheerfully, and hopefully." 
 
 Dinner was announced, and around the inviting board the conver- 
 sation ran on various topics. Bishop Peck spoke of his home in 
 Syracuse, and of his wife there who bid him Godspeed on his South- 
 em tour; and turning to Mrs. Paine, he expressed what great pleas- 
 ure it woirld give him to entertain her and her husband in his Svra- 
 cusan home. He remarked that as he passed through Nashville he 
 looked with pride upon the great Publishing House and the stately 
 \ anderbilt. He entertained his little audience with an account of 
 his travels through Europe, of the Ecumenical, of the Conferences 
 he held, and especially of the great work in Sweden and Norway 
 On our return to the parlor, and the time approaching for his return 
 to the cabinet. Bishop Paine requested a word of praver from him 
 before they parted, in all probability never to see each other again 
 on earth. Standing before the fire by the side of Bishop Paine 
 while we all stood around, he announced that he would sing these 
 beautiful word.s, "My latest sun is sinking fa.st, my race is nearly 
 run " etc., to the tune of Land of Bculah; and with a Hrm and mellow 
 and pleasant voice he sung through one verse and the chorus "Come 
 
298 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 angel band," etc., in which we all earnestly and feelingly joined. 
 There they stood, Bishop Paine just past his eighty - second year, 
 and Bishop Peck his seventy-second, singing together their parting 
 song. Then we knelt in prayer, and Bishop Peck poured out his soul 
 in earnest and fervent supplication for his venerable brother in the 
 gospel, for his family, for the ministers present, and for the spread of 
 the gospel all over this Southern land as well as throughout the 
 world. Then came the parting scene, and Bishop Peck took leave 
 of one and all, remarking how much he had enjoyed this delightful 
 reunion with his good brother Bishop Paine. 
 
 Bishop Peck preached Sabbath night, in the ^Methodist Church 
 here, a strong gospel sermon to a large and interested audience. At 
 the close he sent his compliments to the choir, remarking how much 
 he enjoyed the exceedingly beautiful and grand music of the occa- 
 sion; and on parting, he said to Miss Ludie Paine, the Bi&hop's 
 daughter: "Give my love to the Bishop, and tell him I shall long 
 remember yesterday's interview; and as long as I live I will cherish 
 his letter of invitation over his own signature, as among my most 
 valued and choicest treasures." A. D. McVoy. 
 
 Aberdeen, Mis?., Jan. 23, 1882. 
 
 He contioued exceedingly feeble and was really unable 
 to do any thing but suffer. We find this mournful entry on 
 February 15, 1882: "William May Wightman is dead! 
 He was a good and great man. Born January 29, 1808, in 
 Charleston, S. C. Aged seventy-four years and one month, 
 less one week. A cultured, consecrated life; a peaceful 
 death." He, however, left home in April, 1882, for the 
 General Conference in Nashville, Tenn. He stood the trip 
 pretty well. After the reading of the Bishops' quadrennial 
 address, a scene occurred in the General Conference rarely 
 equaled for deep solemnity and the exhibition of the no- 
 blest and tenderest Christian feeling. It was on the pres- 
 entation of Bishop Paine's request to be relieved froui 
 active service. But we reserve this for our next chapter. 
 
Bisnor OF THE m. e. ciiukcii, south. 299 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 Bishop Paine Retiring — Dr. McFerrin's Speech — Bishop 
 Pierce's Address — Great Feeling — Death of T. O. Sum- 
 mers — Ordaining New Bishops — Returning Home to Die. 
 
 BISHOP PAINE delivered the following address, request- 
 ing to be placed on the retired list, at the General Con- 
 ference in Nashville, May, 1882: 
 
 "Dear Brethren: While joining heartily with my col- 
 leagues in the address you have heard, I beg your indul- 
 gence to make a few remarks of a personal character. 
 During nearly sixty-five years, I have had the honor of be- 
 ing an itinerant Methodist preacher, and for thirty-six a 
 Bishop. In the General Conference of 1824 I was a dele- 
 gate, and as Bishop or delegate I have attended every session 
 since then. For the confidence in my reliability, indicated by 
 these facts, I wish now^ to return my most earnest gratitude. 
 To my much respected colleagues in the episcopacy, between 
 whom and myself the utmost cordial feelings have been unva- 
 ryingly maintained, I tender my thanks. They have gener- 
 ously supplied my lack of service by doing double duty. 
 And now, beloved brethren, worn down with age and in- 
 firmities, I ask to be permitted to retire from further active 
 service. Permit me, in conclusion, to congratulate you 
 upon the auspicious circumstances under which you have 
 met, and to remind you of your responsibility to God and 
 to his Church. Should it be allowed me, in making this 
 probably my last communication to a General Conference, 
 to express the results of my experience and observations as 
 to the doctrines and polity of our beloved Methodism, J 
 
300 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 would say, after devoting a life-time to the study of its doc- 
 trines, my conviction as to their scripturalness has strength- 
 ened and my estimation of the importance of maintaining 
 the essential features of its polity has increased. I do most 
 devoutly thank God that in early life I became an itiner- 
 ant Methodist preacher, and have continued such. But 
 above all, I rejoice in the religious experience which jNIeth- 
 odism presents as the privilege of its members, and the 'joy 
 unspeakable and full of glory.' To enjoy this is the crown- 
 ing glory of the Christian life. I rejoice in a thorough con- 
 version, consciously attested by the witnessing Spirit, a pure 
 and consecrated daily life, and its end — if it can properly be 
 said ever to end — the crown of glory that fadeth not away. 
 For this culmination I shall beg calmly and with humble 
 confidence to wait until the pains and infirmities of this 
 life shall pass away. There may we meet again ! " 
 
 Long before the venerable Bishop had ceased reading the 
 above, nearly all the members of the Conference were in 
 tears. No one who was present will ever forget the affect- 
 ing scene. When the address was finished the following 
 verses were sung with deep feeling : 
 
 Through many dangers, toils, and snares 
 
 I have already come; 
 'T is grace has brought me safe thus far, 
 
 And grace will lead me home. 
 
 The Lord has promised good to me — 
 
 His word my hope secures; 
 He will my shield and portion be 
 
 As long as life endures. 
 
 Yea, when this flesli and heart shall fail, 
 
 And mortal life shall cease, 
 I shall possess, within the veil, 
 
 A life of joy and peace. 
 
 In tones indicating strong emotion the venerable It.ev. 
 Dr. John B. McFerrin said : 
 
BISHOP OF Tin: m. e. church, south. 301 
 
 " I am too much overcome to take into consideration 
 tlie paper read by the senior Bishop. Tliere should be 
 a proper response j)repar('<l and offered to tlie Bishop in 
 the presence of the Conference. Our esteemed and dis- 
 tiniruished brother — I might say father — has been long 
 with us, \vas once a member of the Tennessee Conference, 
 and has belonged to no other Conference but the Tennessee 
 Conference. He is one of the few men — two or three — 
 that voted to receive me into the Conference many long 
 years ago. It has been my privilege in my humble way to 
 be associated with him for more than fifty years. He al- 
 ways won the esteem of every member of the Conference. 
 We all loved him, we always loved him, and since he has 
 been elevated to the episcopacy we have always claimed 
 him as a Tennessee Bishop. He has been in all our hearts, 
 and we want to live with him and to die with him. While 
 I say nothing to disparage any other Conference, nor dis- 
 pute the claims of any other, still I hope when God calls 
 the spirit away his body may be brought to Nashville and 
 be buried here, at the city where he commenced his work. 
 We love him greatly, and all the Church loves him. I 
 should like to say much more, but my feelings will not al- 
 low me." 
 
 Bishop Pierce then said : 
 
 ^'Beloved Brother: Your colleagues and brethren i-e- 
 joice to see you among them. We consider your pres- 
 ence a benediction. It seems to me to be a beautiful jirov- 
 idence that you should have commenced your itinerant 
 career sixty-five years ago at this very point, and that after 
 concluding that circle of labors you are here in the pres- 
 ence of your brethren, asking from them retirement from 
 active service. Bless God that he has given to us your 
 service so long! that he has spared you to attend this Con- 
 ference. But while you cannot go forth in the Master's 
 
B02 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 work, we may profit by your counsel, and rejoice in Chris- 
 tian fellowship with you. We do bless God that now, that 
 in the sunset of your life, you are among us, and that when 
 your sun shall go down you will pass into that heaven 
 made glorious by the memories of the past, and the joys of 
 the future. God bless you ! " 
 
 The Bishop was much affected by the death of Dr. T. O. 
 Summers, w^hich occurred almost at the beginning of the 
 Conference. Dr. Summers was a man of varied learning, 
 and of great versatility of talents. He was good and true, 
 and his death, so unexpected, w^as a grief to the whole 
 Church. Bishop Paine had been most intimately associat- 
 ed with him, and loved him greatly. 
 
 He took a lively interest in the work of the Conference, 
 and presided a short time on May 8. He remained at Nash- 
 ville in a suffering and feeble condition until after the elec- 
 tion of the Bishops. He led in the solemn services, and 
 laid his trembling hands upon the heads of Alpheus W. 
 Wilson, Linus Parker, John C. Granbery, and Robert Ken- 
 non Hargrove, consecrating them as Bishops in the Meth- 
 odist Episcopal Church, South. It may be a pleasure to 
 those Bishops to know what the Bishop wrote in his diary 
 concerning them. He wrote two Avords only, but they are 
 like apples of gold in pictures of silver : " Good and true'' 
 Such words from such a man are worth more to the new 
 Bishops than volumes of fulsome praise. Feeling unable 
 to remain longer at the General Conference, he returned 
 home on May 18. He was follow^ed out of the Conference- 
 room by a few devoted friends, among whom were Captain 
 S. H. Dent, of Eufaula, Alabama, a delegate, and Dr. John 
 W. Hauner, sr. He talked like one inspired — so full of 
 his theme he did not seem to notice his old friend Dr. 
 Hanner. His wife, so tender of him and so careful of oth- 
 ers, called his attention to Dr. Hanner. The Bishop turned 
 
BISIIOF OF THE M. E. rilURCII, SOUTH. .S03 
 
 to him M'itli tlie deepest feeling, and holding out liis trem- 
 bling hand, which was grasi)ed lovingly by Ilanner, he 
 said : "John, I will soon be home ; I am almost there. John, 
 you must meet me in heaven. Farewell! We'll meet 
 asraiu." 
 
304 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 Closing Scenes — Triumphant to the Last. 
 
 HE never again entered the room of the General Confer- 
 ence. In an incredibly short time he is again at home, 
 receiving all the tender care so grateful in his deep affliction. 
 
 On Sunday, May 28, he writes : " Bright, sweet Sunday ; 
 but I can't go to preaching. Trying to search myself I 
 feel no great glow of religious joy, but a calm, humble trust 
 in the mercy of God through my Redeemer. My family 
 cares sometimes harass me, but I try to lay them all on the 
 arm of Almighty Power and Infinite Love. I know that I 
 was converted, and that I now love my God ; but I want the 
 fiillness of the gospel of Christ. I want perfect love, con- 
 sciously attested by the Holy Spirit. O give me this ! " 
 
 Although suffering so much, he still gave his Christian 
 sympathies to those in sorrow. On October 3 he penned 
 the following letter to Brother Brooks, of the North Mis- 
 sissippi Conference. He had been a great favorite in the 
 family of Brother Brooks, had baptized his children, and 
 had ever been the honored and welcome guest in his family. 
 One of the children had died, and learning of the sad event 
 the Bishop, with all the love of a tender-hearted John, 
 sent the bereaved family these words of sympathy and con- 
 solation : 
 
 Aberdeen, Miss., Oct. 8, 1882. 
 
 Dear Brother Brooks: I have wanted to write you a word of Cliris- 
 tian condolence and sympathy on tlie decease of your precious 
 daughter, but have been too sick ; having mended a little lately, I 
 feel tliat I must do so to-dav. We too have sufTl'rod, and know your 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 305 
 
 feelinu:s. Let us endure to the end. Mine must he near, and tliank 
 God I helieve it will he a happy one. We ean't give up the hattle 
 now — fought too long to surrender on the eve of final victory. 
 Wife and fantily join in nuieh love and eojidolenee. May we and 
 all ours meet in tlie l)etter land! 
 
 Your old friend and hrother in Jesus, K. Paine. 
 
 He was now coiitined i)ernianeiitly to the house, and never 
 passed a day without suffering. He noted the death of Sen- 
 ator Ben, Hill, of Georgia, as pro<^luced by cancer of tlie 
 tongue. "A great statesman, a peerless orator, a sound 
 Meth(xlist Christian." He made note also of the comet 
 which ap})eared in the autumn of 1882. 
 
 He had always loved astronomy. While on circuits, dis- 
 tricts, and stations he studied this sublime science in his ear- 
 ly manhood. His birth was on the night of November 12, 
 1799, made memorable by a shower of meteors. In 1833, 
 at Pulaski, Tenn., during Conference, he had Avitnessed these 
 celestial fire-works with an enthusiasm and an apprehension 
 of their true character which calmed the fears of all who 
 listened to his words of wisdom and learning. Now as he 
 was closing his career a magnificent comet could be seen in 
 the early morning sky. Feeble as he was, he must see this 
 strange visitor. So with the assistance of his devoted wife 
 and ever faithful daughter Ludie, he was made ready at three 
 o'clock A.M., and was permitted to enjoy the sight. He then 
 wrote in his diary: "The comet, pretty as a dream, seems 
 nearly stationary, but is going from us east, not to reappear 
 in three thousand five hundred years. Where shall we be 
 then? In heaven, I hope. God's works glorious. Hope to 
 understand them better in heaven." On October 9, his spir- 
 itual birthday, he writes : " Sixty-five years ago, three o'clock 
 P.M., at Davis Brown's, Giles county, Tennessee, I was par- 
 doned and born again, my heart and life changed. I do not 
 tliink tliat I have since then wicke<^l]y departed from God. 
 20 
 
306 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 I joined the Methodist Episcopal Church, and shortly after 
 commenced to preach. I have tried to do my duty. Would 
 be a Methodist preacher had I my life to go over again. 
 Thanks forever, almost home!" 
 
 Just a few days before this he wrote his last letter. It 
 was to his old friend Dr. John B. McFerrin, and was in 
 these words : 
 
 I have suffered much since General Conference — better for a few- 
 days past. Have still on hand a few " Notes of Life," written with 
 trembling nerves. They need revision. Perhaps if I improve T may 
 ])repare them and add others; but I confess I doubt if I shall ever 
 be able to write much more. Thank God, I have no anxiety upon 
 this or any other matters. All I desire is more of God's grace. 
 
 E. Paine. 
 
 Day and night suffering as few men of his age could suf- 
 fer, he continued uttering words of wisdom, enough almost 
 to fill a volume. He was never able to revise his " Notes 
 of Life," or to add another line to them. He continued in 
 bed, at intervals reading the Bible and conversing pleasant- 
 ly and hopefully with his family, until on the night of tne 
 18th of October, 1882, he became unconscious. On the 19th 
 he breathed his last, and his pure spirit was borne to heaven 
 at about four o'clock a.m. His departure was as quiet and 
 calm as his career had been trustful, and his whole life from 
 the age of eighteen had been dedicated to God and his work. 
 
 The following graphic account of his last moments and 
 of his funeral is given by his friend and son in the gospel 
 the Bev. Bobert Paine Mitchell, who was with him often, 
 and wrote down his last utterances at the time : 
 
 " On AYednesday, the 18th instant, at about one o'clock p.m., 
 ho became speechless, and as we supposed was in a dying 
 condition, and indeed thought he would not live more than 
 one hour; but he rallied a little about nine o'clock at night, 
 and we began to hope that he w'ould yet recover conscious- 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. (HUIU'II, SOUTH. 307 
 
 iicys, and be able to talk to us, but he began to sink attain 
 about two o'elock, and lingered until about twenty-nine min- 
 utes past four A.]\r., when quietly and without a struggle, 
 like an infant in its mother's arms, he fell ' asleep in Jesus,' 
 and his freed spirit winged its way to the bright world. 
 His last days were full of peace and holy triumph. Al- 
 most a book could be filled with expressions of wisdom as 
 well as joy which fell from his lips during the last few 
 months of his life. The writer visited him two days before 
 his death, and these were the last words he ever heard him 
 utter: 'Brother, I am at perfect peace with God and all 
 mankind. I can trust my Heavenly Father implicitly. I 
 have no anxiety about the future.' On the 9th of October, 
 his spiritual birthday, he made in his diary a triumj^hant 
 and thankful record, and the last record, nervously traced 
 by his trembling hand, was, 'Almost home, thank God!' 
 Among the last expressions before he became speechless 
 was a repetition of the long meter doxology, 'Praise God, 
 from whom all blessings flow,' etc. ; and thus in his very last 
 hours he gave strong evidence of his abiding confidence in 
 God. When speaking of dying, he always said, 'I have no 
 fear of death as to its results, but I dread the physical suf- 
 fering which must attend the dissolution of soul and body,' 
 and frequently asked his friends to pray that he might he 
 delivered from great bodily suffering in his last moments. 
 God graciously spared him all pain ; there was not a struf--- 
 gle or groan. As soon as he was dead Bishop ]\IcTyeire was 
 notified by telegraph, and requested to attend his funeral. 
 He* reached Aberdeen on Friday night, and the funeral- 
 services were held in church on Saturday at twelve o'clock. 
 The Bishop was assisted by Revs. Amos Kendall, presiding 
 elder of the district, A. D. McVoy, S. A. Steele, John H. 
 Scruggs, R G. Porter, and the writer. Brothers Kendall. 
 Scruggrs, McVoy, Steele, Porter, Long, Kilgore, and H. B. 
 
m()8 life of ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 Scruggs acted as pall-bearers. The church was haudsomely 
 and tasteftilly draped for the occasion. Just back of the pul- 
 pit, midway between the floor and the ceiling, encircled by 
 a wreath of flowers, were printed these tender words, * Our 
 Bishop,' and underneath the book-board on the front of the 
 pulpit the word ' Rest' was woven in evergreens and flowers, 
 and the whole surrounded with drapery significant of the 
 sorrow felt not only by us here, but by the whole Church. 
 The corpse was met at the door of the church by the pas- 
 tor, and the solemn service read as it was borne down the 
 aisle to the chancel, when the Rev. J. H. Scruggs announced 
 hymn 739, which was rendered very feelingly by the choii- ; 
 Rev. R. G. Porter read the ninetieth psalm, and Rev. S. 
 A. Steele the fifteenth of 1 Corinthians, and the choir sung 
 hymn 716, announced by Rev. A. D. McVoy. The Bish- 
 op's remarks were founded on Matt. xvi. 18. His discourse 
 was strong and comforting, and the delineation of the char- 
 acter of the deceased flill and complete. The spacious au- 
 ditorium of our church was filled to its utmost capacity. 
 The poor of the place, the merchants, and schools each 
 turued out in j^rocession, thus showing the high apprecia- 
 tion the community had of this venerable man of God. O 
 how we shall miss him, his wise counsels, his cheerful words, 
 his godly example! Let the Church everywhere pray for 
 his stricken family. R. P. Mitchell." 
 
 All that was mortal of the great and good man now sleeps 
 in the cemetery of Aberdeen. Dr. E. R. Hendrix gives the 
 follow^ing brief statement, summing up the progress of the 
 Church of which he was a pillar and an ornament for sixty- 
 five years. Let it not be forgotten that during all these 
 years he contributed largely to this prosperity, and that he 
 has now received the welcome, " Well done, good and faith- 
 ful servant:" 
 
 " Bishop Paine has just ' fallen asleep ' at the ripe age of 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 309 
 
 eighty-three. His life, which began just before the Odwu 
 of the present century, may help to meiisure to some minds 
 what progress Christianity has made during a single human 
 life. When Bishop Paine was born in 1799 there were but 
 seven Protestant missionary societies ; now there are seventy. 
 When he was yet an infant there were only one hundre«)l and 
 seventy missionaries ; now^ there are over two thousand four 
 hundred ordained missionaries, besides hundreds of ordained 
 native preachei*s and over twenty-three thousand native iiclp- 
 ers, catechists, teachers, etc. Then there were not ovei fifty 
 thousand converted heathen under the care of evangelical 
 missions; now there are one million six hundred and fifty 
 thousand. In fact, in one year (1878) more souls were con- 
 verted from heathenism than could be found in all the mis- 
 sions when Robert Paine was born. Then the entire income 
 from missions was less than one-quarter of a million dollars ; 
 now it reaches over six million. Then the number of evangel- 
 ical mission-schools was seventy ; to-day they are twelve thou- 
 sand, with more than four hundred thousand students. Then 
 there had been published five million copies of the Bible in 
 fifty languages ; to-day one hundred and forty-eight million 
 copies may be found in whole or in part in two hundred and 
 twenty-six languages and dialects. If a single human life 
 may witness such marvelous progress -as that in heathen 
 lands, what courage should possess every soldier of Christ ! " 
 
310 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 Summing Up of His Life and Character. 
 
 WE have endeavored carefully to give the facts in a life 
 going far beyond the usual limits. We have seen our 
 subject in his boyhood, youth, manhood, and in old age. 
 AVe have looked into his whole life as a boy at school, a 
 merchant's clerk, a sincere seeker of religion, a happy 
 Christian, a young preacher traveling a circuit, stationed 
 in towns, becoming presiding elder and a delegate to the 
 General Conference at the age of twenty-four years. Then 
 we have seen him as president of a college, and finally as 
 Bishop of the Avhole Church, doing efficient work for the 
 cause of God for more than sixty years. Now we are pre- 
 pared to make a brief summary of his character. 
 
 1. He was a man of indomitable energy. He spent as 
 few moments unemployed as any one we have ever known. 
 He was the active boy, the diligent student, the faithful 
 preacher, the laborious college president, and the indefati- 
 gable Bishop. From the age of eighteen to the time he was 
 so worn by disease as to be unable to leave his home, he 
 was ever on the go, " always at work." 
 
 2. He was possessed of inflexible firmness. He was by 
 no means a stubborn man. His was the firmness of a strong 
 will, and not of violent passion. It was the'firmness of the, 
 highest manhood, and was in no respect akin to the stub- 
 bornness of a fierce animal blinded by beastly passion. A 
 man taking jiosition at the dictate of passion is very far re- 
 moved from the nuin whose position is taken and held at 
 
BISHOP OF THE M. K. CllUKCH, SOUTH. 311 
 
 the dictate of reason and conscience. A stubborn man 
 never listens to the dictates of reason or to the voice of 
 conscience. Blinded by passion, he heeds not the calls of 
 the higher princii)Ies of liis nature. A man of firmness is 
 calm. No perturbation of disordered feelings, no violence 
 of tyrannical passion, sways or controls him. He is gov- 
 erned by principle. He is self-possessed. He stands un- 
 moved amid all the chimors of appetite and the influences 
 beneath which the weak fall jn-ostrate. Such was the firm- 
 ness of Bislioj) Paine. It was rational. It W'as thoroughly 
 conscientious, and was not in the least produced by a par- 
 oxysm of blind feeling, however deep. It was the decision 
 of the self-poised man, the determination arising from calm 
 convictions undisturbed by the perturbations of passion. 
 
 3. He w^as as brave as he w^as firm. He was a stranger 
 to fear. Where duty called there he was found, in the 
 midst of epidemics or facing wrathful men threatening his 
 life. His courage led him to be faithful to duty often at the 
 risk of his life. 
 
 4. His magnanimity was of the highest order. He was 
 never know^n to do a little, mean thing. He was above all 
 this. He would shoulder any *i*esponsibility demanded by 
 his position and undergo any obloquy to shield his brethren 
 from unjust reproach. 
 
 5. Bishop Paine was a writer of far more than ordinary 
 merit. He was an accurate English scholar and a good 
 rhetorician. He seldom made a mistake. He became al- 
 most rigid as a critic from his great desire as a teacher to 
 prevent his pupils from becoming extravagant or bombastic 
 in their written exercises. He was a great pruner. He re- 
 moved all inappropriate and redundant words. He applied 
 this criticism to his own ])roductions. His style as a writer 
 was neat and often elegant, l)ut never gorgeous. In ex- 
 temporaneous addresses, especially in his young days, his 
 
312 LIFE OF FvOBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 powerful iiuagiuation may have indulged in flights not in 
 accordance with the most rigid demands of pure taste; but 
 he never allowed this to mar his written productions. He 
 may therefore be justly classed among our best writers. 
 
 6. He was great in his attainments. He was a practical 
 "•eolo";ist of the first class. Had he devoted himself entirel v 
 to this department, he would have been the equal of any 
 scientist in the land. As it was, he was the first to foretell 
 the immense mineral resources of Alabama and of the 
 West. As a philosopher, he was not a whit behind the 
 greatest of the age. He had mastered the science of mind 
 and morals, and was a most astute logician and a splendid 
 lecturer. 
 
 7. He was a gospel preacher in the fullest sense of that 
 word. He loved gospel themes, and he presented them 
 with clearness and in demonstration of the Spirit. He was 
 a profound theologian. In this department he kept pace 
 with the age. He not only read and thoroughly digested 
 Richard Watson, John Wesley, and all the old fiithers of 
 Methodism, but he was familiar with the productions of the 
 bast writers of this age on the doctrines of our beloved 
 Christianity. He read the most recent commentators and 
 studied them thoroughly. He read the religious quarter- 
 lies both of his own Church and of other branches of the 
 Church. He was among the first to seciire any new work 
 and to read it with care and full appreciation. It was this 
 constant reading and continuous exercise of his mental 
 ])owors that kept up their vigor to the last. He was at 
 times a preacher fit to be ranked with the greatest ever de- 
 veloped by our holy Christianity. He glowed with serai)hic 
 fire. His clear and full exposition of divine truth ; his rigid 
 and masterful logic; his caustic satire; his language rich, 
 chaste, and classical; his imagination original, creative, and 
 cultured; his taste refined and almost faultless; and added 
 
UTSIIOr OF THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. 313 
 
 to all this, a voice full, clear, and sonorous, and a heart all 
 alive with divine love, and with the Holy Spirit attending 
 every utterance — all these, united in one great sermon, 
 placed him among the most gifted of sacred orators, the 
 most powerful of gospel preachers. I have heard him when 
 he seemed inspired, and I am sure that I have not exag- 
 gerated his great power as a preacher of the gospel of the 
 Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 8. He was a great Bishop. He was thoroughly acquaint- 
 ed with ecclesiastical law, and he had the decision of chai-- 
 acter which enabled him to carry it out. He presided with 
 dignity and authority unmixed with the least exercise of 
 arl)itrary power. He was as free from t3'ranny on the one 
 hand as he was from lack of decision on the other. He 
 was impartial and thoroughly just. He understood his 
 duty, and he did it in the fear of God. A Methodist Bishop 
 is invested with great power. He could make himself an 
 autocrat. He could become a source of great evil by the 
 exercise of arbitrary power. Then he might do great harm 
 to the Church by having his favorites among the preachers. 
 He was neither arbitrary nor partial. He was strong and 
 self-poised. He united the gentleness of a woman with the 
 strength of the brightest Christian manhood. Thus he was 
 a model Bishop. 
 
 9. He was a Christian. He was under the baptism of the 
 Holy Ghost for sixty-five years, and was thoroughly conse- 
 crated to the service of God and his Church. He had no envy 
 or pride, and he was the embodiment of truth. He " bore all 
 things, believed all things, hoped all things, endured all things, 
 never behaved himself unseemly, and thought no evil." As a 
 Christian he was bright and cheerful. He indulged in no 
 bitterness, but grew sweeter in spirit as age and infirmities in- 
 creased. He did not profess sanctification, and yet he had 
 the perfect love whi^-li took away all fear and removed al' 
 
 r • 
 
314 LIFE OF ROBERT PAINE, D.D. 
 
 anxiety — the perfect love which enabled him to say, " I ara 
 almost • home," and to say, "I know the landing on the 
 other shore, and it is safe." 
 
 Such a man was Bishop Paine. As husband and father, 
 and in all the relations of life, he was without a soil upon 
 his pjarments — a perfect and an upright man, one that 
 feared God and hated evil. He is gone, and this picture, 
 drawn by the loving hand of an old and devoted pupil, 
 is now presented to the Church as a correct likeness of 
 one whose sublime virtues should not only excite our ad- 
 miration and win our love, but determine our imitation. 
 This picture — in which the utmost accuracy has been 
 sought, and in which the effort has been made to draw every 
 lineament true to the life — is now sent upon its mission with 
 the prayer that thousands may be made wiser and better 
 by its examination. It is now before the reader. Gaze 
 upon it until the majesty of the great original shall so im- 
 2^ress you that you will feel that you are in close company 
 with the model Bishop, the pure Christian, the j)owerful 
 preacher, the eminent servant of God. In this comj^any I 
 leave you. 
 
 The End.