Francis Asbury Mood, D.D.

 

 
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Southwest Texas State University Library
LD5142.65.M6 C6

Cody, Claude Carr.
The life and labors of Franci

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PHOTOTYPE F.GUTEKUNST PHILADIA

F. A. Mood

A
 THE LIFE AND LABORS

Francis Assury Moon, D.D.,

Founder and first Regent of South-western University.

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C. C. Copy, A.M. PH.D.,

Professor of Mathematics South-western University.

 

 

 

 

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 CONTENTS.

INTRODUCTION.........5
CHAPTER I. Ancestry and Birth ...............7
CHAPTER II. Childhood’s Recollections............. 21
CHAPTER ITI. Jack Farley’s School........ ........ 35
CHAPTER IV. Early Religious Impressions and Expe-
TIENCES  51
CHAPTER V. The Charleston Boy............. 67

CHAPTER VI- In College ......... 8l
CHAPTER VII. Retrospect, Tempations, The Decision 101

CHAPTER VIII. The Circuit Rider. Cypress Circuit. , 117

CHAPTER IX. Barnwell Circuit.........  138
CHAPTER X. Station Preacher. ........... 147
CHAPTER XI. -Travels in Europe. ........ 162
CHAPTER XII. Greenville Station........ .....174
CHAPTER XIII. Presiding Elder, Lincolnton and Or-
angeburg Districts.......... 179
CHAPTER XIV. Besieged in Charleston.............. 193

CHAPTER XV. Running the Blockade..... 211
 4 CONTENTS.

 

CHAPTER XVI. In the West Indies..... 223

CHAPTER XVII. A Sea Voyage ;  Reconstruction; 
Usurpation ..... 235

CHAPTER XVIII. In Labors Abundant. The Call to
Texas........  257

CHAPTER XIX. Ruterville, Wesleyan, McKenzie, Soule 267

CHAPTER XX. President, Soule University.......... 276
CHAPTER XXI. A Central Institution ............... 286
CHAPTER XXII. South-western University.......... 312
CHAPTER XXIII. Regent..........  327

CHAPTER XXIV. The Close...  342
 INTRODUCTION.

A narrative of the life of Dr. Mood presents
to us the career of one, who by his own eflforts
lifted himself into a position of usefulness which
had its consummation in one great work. This
work became a grand success, for upon it, all
the thoughts and energies of his last years were
concentrated.

Such a life as this, is worthy of study as it is
worthy of imitation. |

At the request, coming first from his family,
and then from the Alumni Association of South-
western University, I have to present to. the
world, a man greatly beloved for his social vir-
tues. A man of letters, who had not the leisure
to gratify a taste in the indulgence of which he
could have attained to literary renown; a preach-
er of much grace and many gifts; an educator,
who originated the idea of a central institution of
learning for Texas Methodism, which, under his
wise management and invincible energy in the
face of difficulties, resulted in the establishment
of Southwestern University, and placing it upon
a firm and lasting foundation.
 6 INTRODUCTION.

 

In the portrayal of this life, so much material
has been placed at my disposal that my work
has been but little more than that of a compiler.
My chief dependence in the preparation of the
book, was an autobiography, addressed to his
children, and written at intervals during the last
ten years of his life; I have extracted from these
reminiscences whatever I found useful to my
purpose, and the facts and incidents as related
therein have formed a basis of much of this vol-
ume.

I have not ventured to give the autobiogra-
phy, as a whole, to the public, because parts of
the work dwelt upon incidents and matters,
which however interesting to that circle to
which it was addressed, owing to the endear-
ments of filial relationship, would at times be
considered trivial or even dull, by the general
reader. A father addressing his children, as-
sembled in the family circle may claim privileges
in discussing topics, events or persons which
one, writing for the public eye, can never hope
to have accorded to him.

I trust I have been able to depict an agreeable
image of a man whose life will be a benediction
to the generation of youth who succeed him, as

his labors were a blessing to those with whom
he lived.
 DR. MOOD.

CHAPTER I.

ANCESTRY AND BIRTH.

In all the emigrations to America from the
continent of Europe, the German element has
predominated. <A few of these people came with
the Puritans in the earlier migrations to Massa-
chusetts Bay; but the real beginning of the great
Teutonic flood was about the close of the seven-
teenth century when the German Quakers, flee-
ing persecution, sought shelter in Pennsylvania
where soldiering was not required. This colony
at once became the convergent point for German
immigration, and of necessity the distributing
center from which these sturdy foreigners spread
down the valleys, or moved along the eastern
slopes of the Appalachian range of mountains.
Naturally the faces of many of them were turned
to the more inviting skies of Virginia and the
Carolinas, where they carried with them Teu-
tonic thrift and honesty, and where some of the
curious customs brought from the Rhine sur-
vived even after the revolution.
 8 DR. MOOD.

 

Peter Mood,* the great-grand-father of Francis
Asbury Mood, was one of this class. He was a
native of Wurtemburg, Germany, and along
with three of his brothers, emigrated to Penn-
sylvania about the middle of the eighteenth
century.

When the war with Great Britain broke out,
the four brothers promptly entered the Conti-
nental army, and were under General Washing-
ton in several engagements. On one occasion,
during the memorable winter of ’76, when em-
ployed by him to do some special service that
took them near the Delaware river, they were
discovered by a party of British soldiers, who
gave them chase. Being hotly pursued, and
coming to the banks of the river, they, braving
the icy flood, at once plunged in, and though
repeatedly fired upon reached the opposite bank
in safety and escaped. Petér Mood was subse-
quently captured and thrown into prison, and
from the severity of the weather, with the hard-
ships and exposure which he suffered in confine-
ment, he had hemorrhage of the lungs, and died
in the British prison.

Peter Mood, the son of the revolutionary sol-
dier, and grand-father of the subject of our
memoir, was born in Oxford, Pennsylvania, in
May 1766. Upon reaching his majority, he

*The name Mood was originally Muth, a word which in the
German language signifies Courageous.
 ANCESTRY AND BIRTH. 9

 

moved to Charleston, South Carolina, where he
married, and plied his trade that of silversmith
and jeweller with a reputation for great indus-
try and honesty. He was also known as a man
of marked decision of character and great
strength of body, and many incidents are related
of him, which go to prove that he never hesi-
tated to use his fists and always with great ef-
fectiveness, when he felt that it was necessary
to do so in the protection of his personal rights
or property.

John Mood, third child and oldest son of Peter
Mood, was the father of Francis Asbury Mood.
He was born in 1792. When a youth, he was,
one day, passing the ‘‘Blue Meeting” on Cum-
berland Street, as Cumberland Methodist Church -
was then called, and to his great surprise, he
heard the preacher speaking the English lan-
guage. Accustomed to attend the Lutheran
Church, where the service was conducted in
German, his childish logic made him suppose
that this was the Janguage, in which all service
to God was conducted. He entered the church
and listened with delight and edification to the
sermon, and then hastened home to tell his
father of his pleasing discovery. His father
shared the prejudices of the day, against, at that
time, the despised Methodists and forbade his
going to the Blue Meeting subsequently, how-
 10 DR. MOOD.

 

‘ever, he relented. Young John Mood soon
after this, professed a change of heart and joined
the Methodist Church. This was the beginning
of religion in the family. Through his influ-
ence, his sisters and brothers, and finally his
mother and father were led to attend upon the
ministry of the Methodist preachers, and the
entire family were brought to Christ and con-
nected themselves with this branch of the
church. Thus they became ‘‘of one heart and
one mind in the knowledge and the love of God.”

Peter Mood, when once awakened to the
knowledge of a saving faith, was ‘‘steadfast,
unmovable, always abounding in the work of
the Lord.” His sturdy Teutonic nature would
not let him be otherwise, ‘‘ Blessed be the
Dutch!” wrote our senior bishop. ‘‘In the his-
tory of our struggling church, how often the
ark has rested in the lowly habitation of some
Dutchman with a hard name, and steady as a
wind-sill.”

Bishop Andrew wrote in ‘‘' The Reminiscences
of an [tinerant” in 1853, of a visit to Charleston
made in 1815:* ‘‘ We reached Charleston in
time for conference, and I found a hearty wel-
come and a pleasant home with old Brother
Peter Mood, who kept a silversmith shop some-
where on King Street. Mine host was an active,

*Life and Letters of James O. Andrew, by G. G. Smith, p. 65.
 ANCESTRY AND BIRTH. 11

 

warm-hearted, impulsive old Dutchman, and his
wife an affectionate good woman, one of the
precious ones of earth. The old people have
long since passed from the labors of earth, but
the children still live and the savor of that
mothev’s piety is still found among them.”

John Mood followed his father’s trade, and on
reaching his majority he became a partner in
the business.

During the second war with Great Britain, as
a member of the German Fusilleers, he was for
some months encamped on Sullivan’s Island.
There we find him regularly engaged in leading
Methodist prayer meetings and class meetings
in spite of constant ridicule, and annoying inter-
ruptions from his fellow soldiers. When how-
ever, these annoyances became intolerable, we
see him formally petitioning Robert T. Hayne,
General Commander, and through stringent
orders issued in response to his request, he se-
cured for himself and friends uninterrupted
worship for the future.

At the close of this war John Mood returned
to his business with his father. Shortly after
peace was declared he was married to Miss
Catherine McFarlane, and feeling it his duty to
preach, not long after his marriage, he entered
the local ranks of the Methodist ministry.

John Mood and Catherine McFarlane had
 12 DR. MOOD.

 

been drawn together by a community of tastes
and opinions. She was a daughter of Alexander
McFarlane, who was a native of Manchester,
England. He emigrated to America in early
manhood, and settled in Charleston, South
Carolina, where he was married to Catherine
Reader, in 1774.

Alexander McFarlane had been a sea captain,
but after his marriage he settled down to be an
active enterprising merchant. He was a man of
good education for the times, and was the first
local preacher in the Methodist Church in
Charleston, his name appearing on the records
as early as 1785.

One of the letters of this man has been pre-
served and is now in the possession of the family
of his grandson. It was written to his father
and is expostulatory and hortative. The pen-
manship is beautiful and finished, executed in
that clear, legible style to which the adepts in
the use of the old goose quill only have attained.
It is written on the heavy unruled paper of that
time, has become yellow, crisp and musty with
age. These features add much to its interest,
but the words are worthy of a place in this
Biography. We reproduce them:

To Mr. James McFartane:
- Honored and Dear Father: I was not a little
surprised upon the arrival of the ship Rainbow,
 ANCESTRY AND BIRTH. 13

 

Captain Holiday, that you had not favored me
with a line of information respecting your health
of body and state of mind. And it was not
lessened when the captain told me, that the
reason of your not writing was because ‘‘I had
turned such a Methodist you could make nothing
of me.” And is it possible that this should
break the bond of natural affection that subsists
between a parent and a child? But it must
needs be so, for the Scriptures cannot be broken,
and Christ hath said that his coming would put
a father against his son, a mother against her
daughter, etc. I have infinite reason to thank
Gop that [am (in part) a Methodist; and I glory
in this epithet of reproach and shame. I wish
I was truly deserving of it, but alas what are
empty names, suppose I was called a Protestant,
a Presbyterian, a Quaker, or a Baptist; if I was
a swearer, a drunkard, a liar, or Sabbath-breaker,
would these titles of distinction bring me to
Heaven? No. For without holiness no man
shall see the Lord! ‘‘ By holiness” as a great
man observes ‘‘I mean not fasting, or bodily
austerity, or any other external means of im-
provement, but the inward temper to which all
these are subservient, a renewal of the soul in
the image of God; I mean a complete habit of
lowliness, meekness, purity, faith, hope, and the
love of God and man.”

i235 70
 14 DR. MOOD.

 

I acknowledge in my former letters to have
written with great plainness, but I hope my
openness and simplicity were not construed into
disrespect and rusticity. If it was, be assured
Ido not wish, nay, I dare not intentionally
offend any one, much less a father to whom I
am so deeply indebted unless it be where my
conscience is concerned, and then I must obey
God rather than man. For Christ’s words to
me, and all that desire to follow him are ‘‘If
any man love father or mother more than me,
he is not worthy of me, and whosoever is
ashamed of me before men, of him will I be
ashamed before my father and his holy angels.”

But passing over this, may I be permitted
once more to make the important inquiry, ‘‘ Are
you prepared to meet your God?” Ido notask
if you have turned Methodist, but are you seek-
ing redemption in the blood of Jesus Christ, who
gave himself a ransom for all? Or have you
found it? Does the Spirit of Gop bear witness
with your spirit that you are born again? Or
are you a stranger entirely to it, and cannot
imagine what I mean? If you are, I hope God
in boundless mercy may awaken you out of the
sleep of sin, to a sight and sense of your very
imminent danger; for it is an undoubted truth,
whether you will believe it or not, that unless
we are converted, unless our hearts are changed
 ANCESTRY AND BIRTH. 15

 

by the renovating power of grace, or to speak
plain English, unless we feel that our sins are
forgiven, and our souls sanctified, it will be
easier for a camel to go through the eye of a
small needle than for us to enter into the King-
dom of Heaven.

O, my dear father, your immortal soul is at
stake, and will most certainly perish forever,
unless you set your heart to seek the Lord.
The way to heaven is straight the gate narrow
 few find it. O that you may be one of the
happy few. Buta dull wish and a dying prayer
will not make you one. You must seek the
Lord now whilst He may be found, and call
upon Him now whilst He is near.

Shall I venture to persuade you to lay aside
all prejudice, and to converse with those poor
despised people called Methodists. Hear their
preachers, but look not for refined elocution or
graceful speaking, but for solid Truth, and
weigh what is said in the balances of the Sanctu-
ary compare it with the word of God, and you
will find these are servants of the Most High,
sent to show unto us the way of salvation; that
these are the weak things of the world, that God
chooses to confound the wise, that no flesh
should glory in his presence. O that you may
not reject the counsel of God (as the Pharisees
did of old) against yourself, and count yourself
 16 Dk. MOOD.

 

unworthy of eternal life, but consider in this
thy day the things that belong to your peace
before they are eternally hid from your eyes.

I know that all that I have written is foolish-
ness in the eyes of the world, but the wisdom
of the world is foolishness with God, because
the world with all its (pretensions to) wisdom
knows not God. But if we are willing to be-
come fools (in the eyes of men) that we may be
truly wise, God will make us wise unto salva-
tion. He will teach us His wisdom, which has
been hidden for ages, but is now made manifest
to his saints.

Committing you to God and the Lord Jesus
Christ who is able to save all that come to God
through him, I remain your affectionate son,

ALEXANDER MoFar.ane.
Charleston, S.C. N. 1794.

Catherine Mood, with a father who could
write such a letter, must have been early im-
pressed with the true stamp of Methodistic
piety, and, as was the case with each of her
four sisters, in marrying a Methodist preacher,
she filled a high sphere for which she was emi-
nently fitted. As the fruits of this union, six
children five sons and one daughter reached
maturity.

Francis AspurY Moop, the youngest son in
the family, was born in Charleston, South Caro-
 ANCESTRY AND BIRTH.	17
lina, June 23d, 1830. The other children, in
the order ot their births, beginning with the
oldest, were Henry M., John A., James R.,
William W. and Catherine Amelia. Four of
the live sons have been traveling preachers in
the South Carolina Conference, and the remain-
ing one, James R. Mood, is a Doctor of Medi-
cine in the city of Charleston.
Here we see something of a mother’s influence
and recompense. At her death Bishop Andrew
wrote to Dr. James Mood of her:	“No woman
has more faithfully sustained life’s responsibili-
ties than did your mother, and God has abund-
antly crowned her with the honor that cometh
from God.” But who is so fit to speak of a
mother as her son? And after she has been in
heaven nearly twenty-five years, her youngest
son thus writes of her:	“My precious mother
was of low stature and delicate build and pleas-
ing countenance. She was like my father,
quiet, unobtrusive, and with no ambition to
move in any but the most retired sphere. She
was possessed of—oh, such a wonderful fund
of—solid common sense. And what wealth
of tenderness and affection was there in her
mother’s heart! She lived only for her husband
and her children. They were possessed of some
property in 1824, when my father entered the
itineracy, but in those primitive days of the18	DR. MOOD.
church there were no parsonages, and wives and
preachers’ children were not a popular feature
to many of the members. They bravely faced
the difficulties until the property was all ex-
pended. Then, in 1830, my father located and
started life a second time, without capital, and
with a wife and four children to be supported.
I have heard	mother laughingly depict some
of the struggles of her itinerant life. Much of
it was hard indeed, but of it I never heard a
complaint.”
At the close of this genealogical narration,
though at the risk of disarranging the chron-
ological order of the work, let us note as a re-
markable fact the number of Methodist preach-
ers comprised in, and descended from the above
mentioned families, viz:	Alexander McFar-
lane; the husbands of his four daughters;
Thomas L. Wynn, of the South Carolina Con-
ference; Thomas Mason, of the New York Con-
ference, who was for a number of years agent
of the Methodist book concern of that city^;
James O. Andrew, afterwards Bishop; John
Mood, and the two brothers of the last named,
C. A. Mood and T. S. Mood. The following
sons and sons-in-law of the foregoing:	Henry
M. Mood, John A. Mood, Wm. W. Mood, F.
A. Mood, U. S. Bird, W. W. Wilbur, jr.,
Alexander M. Wynn, J. O. Andrew, jr., Rob’tANCESTRY AND BIRTH.	19
Lorett and J. W. Kush, seventeen in all.
In the conclusion of this chapter it is gratify-
ing to know that though Francis Asbury Mood
claimed no greatness in his forefathers, either
of fame or wealth, yet for all the generations of
the past, as far as we are able to trace them, his
ancestors lived in honorable marriage, were
happy, pure and contented in their domestic
relations, were true patriots, serving their
country in times of need and trial, and died be-
lievers in the Christian faith, and supporters of
the doctines and teachings of the Christian re-
ligion. In democratic America what grander
heritage could our ancestry leave us than such
a record of pure honest and patriotic blood,
through all the past. CHAPTER II.

CHILDHOOD’S RECOLLECTIONS,

Who of us does not sometimes revert to the
memories of early childhood? We go back in
thought until thought can go no further, and
then with strained efforts we attempt to seize
some misty, ill-defined event, of our most dis-
tant past, that is already barely perceptible to
our mental vision. When this memory is re-
called we cannot throw off the feeling that there
are things still farther beyond, that might he
brought back if we could but toych a link: in,

the proper chain. #4 ele gar Mr. RS ond

I shall extract from the autobiography al-
ready alluded to the early recollections of the
author’s childhood. It is a warm-hearted and
homely remembrance of a simple time, outlined
with the loving hand of one, who even in the
zenith of a busy manhood, constantly reverted,
with feelings of deepest affection and profound-
est obligation to those who. directed his first
steps and protected his earliest infancy.

In the recollection of incidents which follow,
we note many points in the temperament of the
boy, which give us no little insight into the

a

,
 22 DR. MOOD.

 

future conduct of the man. The early surround-
ings, associations and instructions were the

W mighty influences which developed his charac-
sete pictures which were indelibly
impressed upon the childish mind and memory
disclose a faculty for close observation and de-
tail. By them we see how impressible he was

y to the quaint, the grotesque and the ludicrous.
How true an eye he had, and how true a heart
for the kindly acts and influences that fell in
the way of his earliest experiences.

These qualities of the head and heart grew
with his growth and strengthened with his
strength, until by this power they drew about
him on every occasion circles of admiring
friends seeking instruction and entertainment
from the experiences of his life.

The reminiscences of his childhood days were
written in the summer of 1875, and are as fol-
lows:

“Born June 23d, 1830, the year my father
left the itinerant for the local ranks of the min-
istry, I have recently amused myself in tracing
to how early an age we may have distinct recol-
lections of persons and events. I have been
surprised to find that in my own history it goes
back to when I was only two years of age. We
lived in 1832 on King street, where my father
had his little store on the west side, near ‘“The
 CHILDHOOD S RECOLLECTIONS. 28

 

Bend,” at a house which was known among
us as the “Big Alley.” That I am not mis-
taken as to the date I know from my recol-
lections of the blue cockades worn by the Nul-
Jifiers, the ordinance of Nullification having
passed the convention of South Carolina in
1832. I recollect also the processions in con-
nection with that event, one particularly, at
night, accompanied by great excitement from
threatened collision of Union men and Nullifiers,
when General Hayne was called out to address
the citizens and allay the tumult. Across the
street from our house was Seyle’s hall, where
the Nullifiers held public meetings. In the
same building was conducted Mrs. Murden’s
infant school, which I was sometimes adlowed
to visit.

‘One of the Seyle boys, one day, called to
me to come to him across the street; while tod-
dling across, a passing dray knocked me down
and one of the wheels rolled over me. Fortu-
nately it rolled immediately across mydiaphragm,
which with the softness of the mud into which
I fell, saved my life. I well recall my astonish-
ment at the crowd around me, when coming to
my senses, I opened my eyes.

‘‘About this time we removed to a brick
dwelling on George street. T'wo or. three mem-
ories of striking character to my childish mind
 24 DR. MOOD.

 

I will mention. The most exciting one was the
phenomenon of ‘The Falling Stars,’ as the mete-
oric shower of November 138th, 1833, was called.
My grandmother took me to the window and
let me look out upon the wonderful sight. Near
the same time a total eclipse of the sun oc-
curred; I remember looking through a smoked
glass during this phenomenon.

‘In 1834 we had a very severe winter, when
we had a snow storm, memorable in my history
because of an immense snow-ball rolled up by
my larger brothers, and which I followed in
admiring wonder, delighted with the continued
accumulation of each revolution.

‘Our next door neighbor was given to drunk.
enness. I well recall my gloom and horror, when
on going over to play with his son, I, for the
first time saw the father in his cups calling for
food, and raving at his wife and children.

‘I suppose that it was in 1835 or 1836 that
we removed to the dwelling on the southeast
corner of George and Coming streets. Delight-
ed with the excitement of removal, my sister
and myself went to the new dwelling, which
had been occupied: by a physician. Running
over the house, we at length reached the attic,
when suddenly we came upon askull and human
bones. We fled in childish terror from such a
sight.

as oe 4
 CHILDHOOD'S RECOLLECTIONS. 25

 

‘This dwelling had a large yard fora city
home. Here I spent years, and recall pleasant
memories. There was living with us here 
indeed, I recall her presence at the brick house 
a *Miss Silena Smith. She had been for years
the house-keeper of the Methodist parsonage
during the dispensation of the bachelor Bishop
Asbury, and the bachelor preachers. Now that
married men were finding toleration in the con-
ference, and were being ‘stationed in the city,
her avocation was gone. She was very old and
feeble, so my mother gave her a home with the
family and she remained with us until her death.
Several startling incidents are connected with
my childhood and this pious old christian.

“Our next door neighbor, a good Methodist,
Brother Reeves, was a worker in wood. He
once gave me a number of neatly turned dishes
of a brown wood, which tome greatly resembled
a cake that my mother often had for tea. Care-
fully arranging them on a dish on the tea table,
in the dusk of the evening, I hid behind the
door to see who first would be deceived by the
wooden cakes. I do not think I had any special
designs against Miss Silena, but she first entered
the room, took one from the dish and hurt her
toothless gums. The snicker from behind the
door betrayed the author of the trick, and com-

*See “Life and Letters of James Osgood Andrew,” page 70,
 26 DR. MOOD.

 

plaint was made. My dear, blessed mother led
me to her chamber, and by a combination of
prayer, solemn exhortation and a leather slip-
per, gave me a lesson in reverence for age,
which remains to this day.

‘On Sunday nights the family usually went
. to church, leaving my sister and myself, the
two youngest, in charge of Miss Silena. On
one occasion we had been put to bed when I
was startled with a cry from her that ‘she was
burning up.’ I sprang to the stairway, and as
I turned the landing saw her at the foot, with
one hand on the ballustrade, a pillar of fire. I
sprang down and tore the burning clothing from
her. Her life was saved, but she long suffered
from dreadful burns on her arms, and neck and
face, as I did from blistered hands.

‘Young as I was, her piety impressed me
deeply. Too aged and infirm to sew, or read
ordinary print, she spent her time in reading
the Scriptures and in prayer. Oftimes I have
stood reverently by her room door, and listened
to her pleadings for the church, for sinners and
for the world. ;

‘‘Marm Phillis was the complement of Miss
Silena Smith at that bachelor’s parsonage,
among the tombs of Bethel Cemetery. Marm
Phillis was the cook. She held the position
long after the bachelor dispensation had passed
 CHILDHOOD'S RECOLLECTIONS. 27

 

away. Becoming too old and infirm to work,
like her pious co-laborer, she fell to the benevo-
lent care of my dear mother. One of my life
lessons occurred in connection with ‘Old Marm
Phillis’ which I will narrate.

‘For years, at every meal, as soon as my
father had asked the blessing, the plates and
cups were handed to my mother, who arranged
the meal to be sent to Phillis. The messenger
was Sarah, a tidy intelligent mulatto a family
slave by inheritance. It was gall and bitterness
to Sarah to be compelled to wait on this old
pauper negress, in comparison with whom she
felt so much superior. Phillis was old, ungainly
and exacting, occupying a very humble home
on St. Phillips street. On-one occasion, by
some over-sight, old Phillis’s dinner was sent to
her minus the meat. Uncovering her meal, she
broke out into upraidings against Sarah for the
omission, and utterly refused to touch the din-
ner, but sent it back with this message to my
mother: ‘Tell Miss Kitty ef she can’t sen’ me
meat wid de dinna, she needn’t sen’ me any at -
all.’ Sarah returned indignant, but rejoicing.
Indignant at the ingratitude of the old woman,
and rejoicing in the expectation that this would
end her disagreeable tramps around the corner
to old Phillis’s. Putting down the dinner on
her return, she delivered the old woman’s mes-
 28 DR. MOOD.

 

sage and exclaimed, indignantly: ‘Miss Kitty,
I never would send another mouthful to that
impudent, ungrateful old nigger.’ The children
shared Sarah’s indignation, and all of us joined
in protest against mother ever again trying to
minister to old Phillis. Then followed the les-
son. In reply, she said in substance: ‘My
children, I am sorry to see that you understand
so imperfectly the law of benevolence. If you
are benevolent only to the grateful, precious
little benevolence will you dispense while you
live. As God sends his rain on the just and on
the unjust, we are to relieve the wants of our
suffering fellow creatures whether they appre-
ciate our efforts or not. Besides this, in the
gratitude of those we assist, we have a reward.
Are you willing to do good only to receive an
earthly reward? We are to do good without
reference to character here, and our Father that
seeth, in secret, will reward us openly in the
coming day.”

‘‘That was a word in season. I have never
felt tempted to discouragement at the indif-
ference, criticism or seeming ingratitude of
those I have been called to serve, that Phillis,
Sarah, and the scene at the dinner table, have
not recurred to awaken me to renewed diligence.

‘‘My first intimate friend was George Wash-
ington Whitfield. George’s mother was dead
 CHILDHOODS RECOLLECTIONS. 29

 

and he lived with his grandmother. We became
devotedly attached to each other, and followed
each others ways, employments and amuse-
ments. My most constant companion, -however,
was sister Amelia, two years younger than my-
self. Most of my sports took a feminine turn
to accommodate her, she having no sister’s com-
panionship. I spent all my money on her dolls
and doll-houses, and it was my great pride that
that she had the most complete doll-house in the
neighborhood.

‘‘And now came a great event. I was sent
to school after my mother had taught me to
read. My teacher was a Mrs. Bell. She lived
a few doors from us and taught the school in
her own dwelling. It was here that I met my
first sweetheart. She was quite a young lady
in size, was the most advanced pupil and was
also taking lessons in ornamental needlework.
I thought her a perfect beauty, a word, a look,
or a smile from her would through me into
raptures of delight. No service was too menial
for me to do for her, and I would go to any
trouble to please her.

“T had the reputation of being incorrigibly
mischievous. I was scolded for it at school
and reminded of it at home. I had an insatiate
fondness for tools, machinery, or anything of
that kind, and I was all the time spoiling some-
 30 DR. MOOD.

thing considered valuable in my efforts to manu-
facture a cart, or build a house, or construct a
machine. My brothers shared with me this
mechanical turn, particularly Henry and James.
My. parents endeavored to give healthy direc-
tion to this constructive talent. Henry had
been sent to Cokesbury to learn the gunsmith’s
trade, and was attending school there, paying
his way partly. by his trade, in that village.

‘‘T well recollect our enthusiasm over a mini-
ature fire engine we had seen in the city, and
which was to be raffled at fifty cents a chance.
Father, however, took occasion to tell us of the
evil involved in raffles, and told brother James,
that if he would try he could make a better
engine himself. To us this appeared incredible.
But he set to work under my father’s direction,
studying the construction in a book my father
furnished him, and also by the examination of
a city engine which was kept near our home.
How eagerly did we younger ones watch his
progress, step by step. How much pains our
dear father took in aiding and directing. The
air chamber, the pumps, the pistons were all at
last finished; wheels were procured and finally
we brought it home from father’s shop for the
first trial. Delightful sensation! We worked
the handles a few strokes, the water rushed
from the nozzle of the hose. We pumped
 CHILDHOODS RECOLLECTIONS. 31

 

harder, as we had often seen the firemen do,
the jet rose still higher, until at last, with glad
hurrahs, we saw our engine throw water in a
steady stream on the roof, and even over the
top of the chimney. This engine was for years
an untiring source of amusement.

“Under the same wise principle of parental.
government my mother, on one occasion, had
boards, nails and tools furnished me, in answer
to a longing wish to build a veal house for sis-
ter’s dolls. I hammered and sawed away at it
for days, and finally completed a very creditable
house. It was about four feet wide and six or
seven feet long. It had a door and a window
and was creditably floored. In it we could actu:
ally go, and shut the door and look out of the
window, so this house was almost as much a
means of childish happiness as was the fire
engine. Thus we had little occasion or desire
to roam over the city. We were on no pretext
whatever allowed to play on the streets, amuse-
ment was furnished us at home, and we were
glad to stay there. Having so much that was
attractive about our home, we had many visitors,
but if any boy was heard, or known to use pro-
fane or wicked language, my mother promptly
led him to the gate and required him to leave.
As she did this without fear or favor, we were
taught a lesson of decision and courage in right
 32 DR. MOOD.

 

doing that- was invaluable, besides early giving
to us a hearty dislike for the companionship of
those who used profane or wicked words.

‘‘Another important change came to me about
this time. Mrs. Bell called me to her on one
occasion and told me that she could teach me
no longer, as I was too mischievous. [I listened
to this charge in great astonishment, for I was
sincerely unconscious of what she meant. She
furthermore told me that she intended to advise
my parents to send me to a school-master who
could manage me.”

And thus the chapter of his first school-days
was rather abruptly closed. His mischievous
propensities had gotten him into serious trouble,
because his teacher did not understand him.
The mischief which was superinduced by the
mental workings of the boy mechinician, by a
longing desire to experiment upon persons or
things, just to see what would be the effect un-
der certain conditions she thought to be the
unprincipled recklessness of the ‘‘bad boy,” all
of whose misdeeds are executed with malice
afore thought. |

When he was about five years of age he was
afflicted with erysipelas of the face. This gave

him great pain and resulted in an unnatural en-
-largement of the nose, and, very naturally
superinduced an irritability of temper, to which
 CHILDHOOD'S RECOLLECTIONS. 33

 

he gave vent by crying. He was conscientious
and upright from early childhood, and was hap-
py and playful, so long as matters suited him,
but just as soon as anything went contrary to
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 CHAPTER III.
JACK FARLEY S SCHOOL.
At the opening of the next session after his
informal severance from Mrs. Bell’s instruction,
we find our young friend, in company with two
of his elder brothers, “with his satchel, and
shining morning face, creeping, like snail, un-
willingly to school.”
He was on his way to a master who managed
the boys. One of that kind of whom Carlyle
says, “he knew syntax enough, and of the hu-
man soul thus much, that it had a faculty called
memory, and could be acted upon, through the
muscular integuments by the appliance of birch
rods.”
But birch rods were scarce in the city, so Mr.
Farley provided himself with a strap. It was
an inch wide, a quarter of an inch thick—if
leather is ever that thick—and about eighteen
inches long. From constant use it had become
thoroughly flexible, and with how much force
and effect he could apply this instrument of
torture was often discussed and thoroughly un-
derstood by the Charleston boys of that day—36 DR. MOOD.

 

many of them being able to speak with feeling
intelligence upon the subject.

Mr. Farley was a short stout man of great
strength. He was of Irish parentage, and in
his infancy being thrown upon public charity,
he was received and brought up in the Charles-
ton Orphan House, an institution of which the
Charlestonians are justly proud, and upon which
they spend large sums of money annually.
From this‘establishment, under certain provi-
sions made by the city, he was sent to the South
Carolina College at Columbia. There, having
taken a regular course, he graduated with dis-
tinction. He was educated under the Presidency

y/ of Dr. Cooper, and like most of the graduates
from that institution at that day, he imbibed
the skeptical views of that eminent man.

Thus we see the teacher, placed by public
functionaries in charge of an important school;
a strong man who looked with contempt upon
weakness; a man who had known but little of a
mother’s love and tenderness; the gentler ele-
ments of whose nature had never been developed
by the softening influences and associations of
home; and finally, by reason of the unfortunate
circumstances of his higher education, having
the foundation of his faith in-God and religion,
effectually demolished. Yet he was esteemed
worthy to train the ignorance and weakness of
 JACK FARLEY’S SCHOOL. 37

 

boyhood, into all virtue and power and wisdom
of maturer years.

His system was of such a character that
neither the man nor his methods were ever for-
gotten by his young pupil. It does not often
fail that our strongest recollections of early boy-
hood goes back to the school master, but in this
instance, to fully appreciate how clearly he re-
called every incident connected with ‘‘the dis-
mal days of Jack Farley’s school room” one
should have heard him tell of the pedagogue,
under the strokes of whose sceptre he first suf-
fered.

The school-house was composed of two build-
ings rolled close together. The jointing had
been poorly done, so that when it rained the
roof leaked badly. Huis desk was near this part
of the room, and over and near the openings in
the floor which had rotted away from the fre-
quent wettings. The ceiling had been canvassed
and papered years before, but was now dis-
colored with age and mildew and gaped in ugly
openings overhead, around which dangled the
ragged cloth and paper.

Mr. Farley sat at one end of the room, in an
arm chair, on a throne about eight inches high.
He was an inveterate chewer of tobacco, and
constantly expelled from his mouth, in expertly
directed streams, the accumulated amber. The
 38 DR. MOOD.

 

surroundings of his throne, therefore, were very
much akin to the interior of a hog-pen, in-
describably nasty. :

School opened at eight o’clock. When the
scholars arrived at the school-house, they were
allowed no privileges of a play ground, but each
one was required to enter at once, deposit his
books in the ante-room, and take his seat at his
assigned desk. Studying in school, or at the
school-house was a crime that could only be ex-
piated for by a flogging.

It is the law of a child’s nature to be active;
then to expect a company of boys, without the
presence of their preceptor, to gravely sit in
silence for perhaps an hour, and do nothing, 
was like expecting a miracle to be worked.
This regulation was, therefore, looked on by the
boys as a cunningly devised and wicked scheme
to get them into trouble, for they recognized
the living truth in the nursery hymn which
says:

“And Satan finds some mischief still
For idle hands to do.”

Very frequently, they got into some mischief,
and, consequently the opening exercise was a
general and promiscuous castigation. The in-
fatuation that took them to the school-room, be-
fore the time of opening, simply to brave the
 JACK FARLHY’S SCHOOL. 39

 

dangers of a tremendous thrashing, we leave for  
psychologists to explain.

At the appointed moment Mr. Farley entered
the school-room amid that profound silence
which is superinduced by the palsy of fear. He*
turned to his right, unlocked and lifted the cover
of a large desk, and drew forth a dark serpentine
looking thing, coiled it about his finger, or laid
it across his lap. This ominous thing is the
strap his sceptre of authority, and general as-
sistant. As an instrument of torture it was
used with great dexterity and power upon
hands, shoulders, legs or seat, according to the
magnitude of the crime or the humor of the tor-
mentor. |

When, as occasion demanded, the opening
corrective exercise had been vigorously admin-
istered, before the groans, the tears, the sobs,
the wringing of hands, the rubbing of legs, and
the blowing of fingers and noses had subsided,
in tones of awful authority that dreadful word
rung out spelling/

Obedient to this call, the entire school filed
before him, and stood in their respective posi-
tions. Touching this ordeal, we will let him
through his autobiography speak for himself:

‘‘Carpenter’s Spelling Book was used. How
often have I seen a word pass down from boy to
boy each oneas he missed receiving his merited
 40 DR. MOOD.

outta,

stripes. ‘From rank to rank the vollied
thunder flew.” Perhaps, far down the line,
some fortunate fellow would make the happy
guess and rise head, amid the groans and
anguish of the crowd below. I recall one awful
time in my history in connection with this spell-
ing. I had been remorselessly thrashed for
several days, for missing; when to my Joy,
among some old books and pamphlets, at home,
»I found a Carpenter’s Spelling Book. Tearing
out the leaf that contained my lesson, I put it
in my pocket, as a certain talisman against Mr.
Farley’s strap. When called to the class, it was
not long before a hard word came rolling down
toward me, and blows and cries were coming in
a torrent with it. I stealthily drew out my
talisman, saw how the word was spelled, and
triumphantly passed third to head. My un-
usual success, I doubt not, awakened suspicion,
and drew to me the attention of my Argus.
Another word went rolling down below me.
The boys above me were twitching in nervous
apprehension. I drew out my talisman. I
glanced at it, partly turning my body to conceal
the miserable cheat I was enacting. Quick re-
tribution followed. ‘‘What is that you are
hiding there Asbury Mood?” roared my lynx-
eyed tormentor. ‘‘ Nothing Sir,” I tremblingly
said, adding a lie tomy other deceit. He called
 JACK FARLEY’S SCHOOL. 41

 

me forth before the class, for he understood the
whole case. He made me draw forth the fatal
page my adored talisman; he held it up, and
its owner, to public scorn, and after heaping
contumely upon me for the base deceit I had so
poorly practiced, and completely stripping me
of my peacock’s feathers, in which [ had strutted
for a brief five minutes, he gave me a flogging,
the memory of which will ever make my flesh
creep. I was striped black and blue from neck
to heels, and besides all this, was sent to lan-
guish in disgrace at the foot of the class. I
need not say that this experiment upon ‘‘a royal
road to learning,” completely disgusted me. It
always seemed a broad rpad leading to destruc-
tion. af ~%. ree Pt Aa bo
He tells of the disadvantages under which the
fine arts were cultivated in Mr. Farley’s school.
‘It was the third or fourth day after entering
the school in the afternoon I had finished the
‘Csum” set for me on the slate, and I went up
to show it to Mr. Farley. Whenever more than
one was ready at the same time, he fell into line
and awaited his turn. About ten boys were
ahead of me. About the time of which I am
speaking, there was great excitement about the
Indian War in Florida, a company from the
city, having, a few days before, started for the
seat of hostilities. Tired of awaiting my turn,
 42	DR. MOOD.
I carefully reversed my slate, and amused my-
self by drawing a picture of white men and
Indians fighting. The picture was hardly finished
when my turn came and I passed up my slate
for examination. The sum was correctly done.
Mr. Farley turned the slate over to set another
sum. Horrors ! What is it that so transfixes
him ? It is a picture, a picture drawn in cold
blood in school time. He thundered at me,
“Who did that?” I, all unconscious of any
crime, yet conscious that great danger wras im-
pending, slowly answered, “I drew it, Sir.”
He laid down the slate, took up the strap, slowly
reached out his hand, took me by the front of
my jacket, and gave me about ten blows. I
writhed in mortal agony, both at the pain of
body and sense of mortification, for this was my
first whipping at school.
“The first locomotives were at this time being
run on the South Carolina Railroad, and all of
the boy’s heads were full of the new enterprise.
Two of the boys who sat near me—Osgood
Chrietzberg and James Copes, were especially
interested in the matter. Chrietzberg had drawn
a locomotive and train of cars and was explain-
ing the picture to Copes. Absorbed in the pic-
ture they did not discover the stealthy approach
of Mr. Farley, who, holding his strap over his
shoulder, had slipped up behind the guilty pair.JACK FARLEY'S SCHOOL.	43
Said Chrietzberg with enthusiasm. ‘ ‘ This crank
works so.” Moving his arms like the lever of
the engine. “And this strap ivories so,” thund-
ered Mr. Farley as he rained his strokes thick
and fast upon the backs and shoulders of the
unhappy engineers, who commenced instanter,
a series of wonderful evolutions that would have
done credit to any gymnast. Drawing did not
develop under his regime, circumstances were
unfavorable to it.”
George Whitfield, the young and early friend
of Francis Asbury Mood, with whom he had
been so intimate while under the instruction of
Mrs. Bell, feeling it to be a reproach to longer
attend a girls’ school, and being desirous of the
congenial associations of Asbury and other boys
of his age, in spite of kindly warnings, deter-
mined to brave the dangers of Jack Farley’s
fury. George was a guileless child, and having
been solely under the care of an indulgent grand-
mother, he perhaps had never been whipped in
his life, and therefore he could not appreciate
the warnings of his friends.
On the second day after entering he missed
his “spelling.” The inevitable must come
Mr. Farley sternly ordered him to hold out his
hand. He did so, down came the awful strap
almost cutting into the tender flesh. Poor
George! He looked at his hand in speechlessSe

44 DR. MOOD.

 

agony and then in speechless terror looked at
Mr. Farley, who was thundering in terrific tones
‘“Hold out your hand sir!” He held it out
again. Down came the strap with even more
force than before. George could endure no
more, but wringing his hands and bowing un-
easily, he cried out at the top of hisvoice: ‘Oh
Mr. Farley, Sir!”

“I beg your pardon, I grant you grace

I hope the cat may scratch your face.”

This tender and poetic appeal, seemed to
arouse all the lion in Mr. Farley’s nature. He
could not see that the boy was so terrified that
he did not know what he was saying, but took
his words literally as a personal insult, and he
seized George by the collar of his jacket and
gave him a tremendous trouncing for his sup-
posed temerity. His grand-mother was never
able to get him back to Mr. Farley’s school.
He quietly resumed his place in the girls’
school, preferring to bear the opprobrium con-
nected with such a position, in his boyish
thoughts, rather than suffer, for a season, the
pains and punishments, into which his ambition,
and friendship had tempted him.

The two older brothers, James and William
Mood, having become sufliciently advanced,
were taken from Mr. Farley and sent to the High
School. This was a classical High School, of
 JACK FARLEY’S SCHOOL. 45

 

which Henry M. Bruns, L. L. D., was princi-
pal, and it was intended to be tributary to
Charleston College. With the removal of these
two brothers, along with a number of the larger
boys, Mr. Farley’s severity seemed to increase.
He began to see that corporal punishment, alone,
would not bring about the best results. So he
commenced to study and experiment upon new
methods of punishment, looking’ on punishment
as the only key to an education. He concluded
to introduce shame into his discipline. First he
tried tall dunce eaps of paper. Soon he had a
small army thus arrayed. The boys enjoyed
the change and looked with no feelings of shame
upon that which was universal. He then found
it necessary to modify this by combining shame
with bodily punishment; so he put piles of books
on the heads of the culprits, and made them
pace the floor, whipping furiously any boy who
was so unsteady as to drop any of the books.

_ At last his genius culminated into an alto-
gether novel form of punishment. He began to
make the boys who had offended get down on
their all-fours and pace up and down the room.
The advantage he gained by requiring them to
assume this position was two-fold: First, there
was the shame in being made to typify the don-
key, a creature celebrated especially for his
stupidity; and Mr. Farley constantly reminded
 46 DR. MOOD.

 

the boys of their resemblance to this long-eared
beast. In the second place, the attitude assumed
drew the pantaloons tight over the breech giving
invitation, amplitude and scope for the play of
the strap. He frequently had a herd of these
quadrupeds on parade at once, and would de-
light to walk among them, and touch the lag-
gards up with a blow that would send them
bellowing and galloping to the farther end of
the room.

Mr. Farley reported Asbury to his father, as
‘‘deing well.” This was told to Asbury, who
“accepted the statement with gratitude, conclud-
ing that the miseries he endured were only the
necessary agonies through which every school
boy had to pass, as being the ‘‘ undeveloped ini-
tiatives of good things to come.” He, however
was thoroughly miserable, as he was whipped
for bad lessons, for talking or for mischief of
one kind or another every day he passed in the
school-room. This, however, was the common
experience of his school-mates, for whatever
were the defects of Mr. Farley’s theories of dis-
cipline, he was rigidly honest and impartial in
its administration.

Our young friend had been spared, as yet the
miseries of going on all-fours; but he felt that
he was gravitating towards it, as he had been
seated cross-legged on the floor as a sort of cen-
 JACK FARLEY’S SCHOOL. 47

 

ter-point around which a lot of the other boys
were made to crawl.

At his home the children were not allowed
to ‘‘tell tales out of school.” His parents ac-
cepted Mr. Farley’s report that he was doing
well, and they were altogether ignorant of these
cruel travesties on discipline.

On one occasion, when some of his school-
mates were spending a Saturday with him, they
began discussing the case of one of their fellow
sufferers, who during the week before had met
a conspicuous visitation of ‘*all-fours ” with the
strap accompaniment. His mother heard the
conversation. She listened in surprise. She
questioned them. She saw honesty and sincerity
in their faces. The thing was true. Her
motherly heart was aroused and she lost her
usual caution. Looking full into the face of her
son she exclaimed indignantly: ‘‘ Mark ye, I do
not send you to school to be taught such antics.
The day Mr. Farley. orders you on the floor do
you come home.” This was enough. He felt
that his freedom was already in his grasp. He
longed for the supreme moment to come, when
under the banner of his mother’s protection, he
would defy Jack Farley’s authority, and proudly
march home. His minute recollection of the in-
cident will show how deeply it was impressed
upon his memory as well as how impressible he
 48 DR, MOOD.

 

was to particulars. He says of it ‘‘On Monday
morning I was early at school, I began talking
to Jesse Bowles a tall boy several years my
senior, who sat alongside the main entrance. I
said to him, ‘“‘If Mr. Farley ever puts me to
crawl on the floor I am going home; my ma has
told me to do so.” The boy replied: ‘‘You
won’t dare to do it, Old Jack would catch you
and blister you.”

‘You'll see whether I will or not.”

‘‘T, for the first time was anxious to be pun-
ished; nor was I slow in making the opportunity.
About ten o’clock in the day, I missed outright.
The lesson was on Oceanica, where, in Wor-
cester’s Geography there is a picture of an
ourang outang in a bread fruit tree. Mr. Far-
ley seized me, and after giving me a terrible
castigation, threw me on the floor and told me
to sit there. ‘‘The whipping had made me as
limber as a wet rag, all my courage had fled,
and bruised and sobbing there Isat. As the
class was dismissed, my tall friend passed, and
stooping hissed sneeringly in my ear: ‘I
thought you were going home.” I roused as
from a dream. The coming of another class
favored my purpose. I sprang up and darted
for the door. With the singular conduct that
marks many boys, for Jesse Bowles was my
friend, he saw my movement, and as I reached
 JACK FARLEY’S SCHOOL. 49

 

the door-sill, he stretched out his long legs over
which I stumbled; down the steps I went, head-
long to the ground. My terror was now com-
plete. I thought I heard Mr. Farley behind
me. Neverdid any poor fugitive, fleeing to a
City of Refuge, with the avenger of blood close
upon him, feel greater terror or make swifter
flight.

I reached our parlor door. I turned the door
knob, and fell prostrate in a fainting fit. Two
lady visitors were in the parlor talking to my
mother. When I came to myself I was upstairs
on a bed and my mother and the ladies applying
restoratives. .As soon as I opened my eyes,
my mother in pale affright cried, ‘‘ What is the
matter my son?” “Oh,” I exclaimed, feeling
as if I had done the most tragic and heroic ac-
tion in the world ‘‘I ran out of school.”

This affair was carefully discussed by the
older members of the family. Asbury, as a mat-
ter of prudence being allowed to hear but little
of what was said. .

It was finally agreed that he should continue
at school, if the teacher would promise not to
punish him for this act of rebellion. Under this
promise, he returned the next morning. He
studied harder than ever, both to say good les-
sons and to please his teacher. Ina day or two,
however, for some slight offense, he was again
 50 DR. MOOD.

 

whipped, and during the process of punishment,
he was taunted with being a ‘‘runaway.” This
he reported to his mother, knowing that he had
her sympathy, and that she was committed to
his protection. This had its effect, for soon
after, he was quietly transferred to the High
School, thereby closing the oD Oey miseries
in his eee a a a Aw (ih. (apcousd,

Jf rrabeola $ £4

 

al
 CHAPTER IV.

EARLY RELIGIOUS IMPRESSIONS AND EXPERIENCES.

In the foundation of Francis Asbury Mood’s
life, as recounted in the preceding pages, that
stone which was to become the ‘‘ head of the
corner” has neither been discussed, nor so much
as touched upon. We have so far given the
thoughts, incidents, and accidents, relating to,
this present life, up to the tenth year of his age.

We now propose to narrate the thoughts, im-
pressions and experiences of the heart as they
are related to the life tocome. Heever enjoyed
a bright religious experience, and it was his de-
light to dwell upon the particulars of his con-
version, and bear witness of the power of grace,
either in the class meeting, the love feast, or if
occasion offered, in more restricted circles. No
one could hear him, in the deep intonations of
his rich modulated voice, relate any of the inci-
‘dents of his conversion without feeling deeply
impressed by it. Fortunately we are able to
give his early religious impressions and experi-
ences in his own words.

‘‘Father, a pious minister, mother, a devoted
Christian, they gave much attention to the relig-
 52 DR. MOOD.

 

ious training of their children. I cannot
therefore recall the time, when I did not think
seriously about future and eternal things; when
I did not pray, or when I did not daily, night
and morning, hear the Scriptures read, a verse
or two of a hymn sung, and a father’s prayer
offered at the family altar. Blessed privilege!
Blessed experience! How often have I in early
life, foolishly envied the wealth and position
held by boys and young men at school and at
college, which were denied me. But oh, how
foolish, ungrateful, and wicked were such
thoughts. Now in the maturity of life, as I look
back and review it all, I would not give the pre-

“cious legacy of my father’s prayers and example,
and my mother’s pious devotion and instruction
for all the wealth, jewels, gold and fame that
the world could offer me.

I recall vividly at this moment* an occasion
of great solemnity and religious feeling that I
experienced when I could not have been more
than three or four years old. I dreamed that
I had seen the lake of fire, where the wicked
find eternal pain. I can recall with distinctness,
the impressions it made upon me, and the feel-
ings it awakened. Though it was the first im-
pression of the kind that I remember, it remains
with me as distinct at this hour, as the morning

*This paper was dated at Georgetown, Texas, Sept. 10th, 1875.
 EARLY RELIGIOUS LIFE. COB

 

I awoke from the dream. Sometime after this,
I did something sinful. I do not now recall the
act, but I dreamed under my feelings of re-
morse, that I was lost. Another time I dreamed
that I witnessed the terrors and solemnities of
the judgment. At another time I dreamed that
I was saved in heaven, and from that place of
bliss, looked down rejoicing upon the sinful
world below.

‘“Now these were only dreams, but I mention
them because they indicate the current of my
waking thoughts.

‘‘T went regularly to Sunday-School, and to
preaching, and I was taught hymns and the
catechism, by my mother, at home; but I ‘grieve
to say, I took no pleasure in any of these mat-
ters. As I grew older my anxious thoughts and
fears increased, and with them my dislike to
religious things. When I was quite small, my
parents commenced to tent regularly at the
Charleston Camp Meetings. This they kept up
until after I entered the ministry. To us, this :
annual occasion of worship was the great event Ae
of the year.

‘At the time of which I now speak, the
camp-meetings were held some twelve or fifteen
miles up the Cooper river, at a place called
Cain Hoy. We went thither in steamboats.
The camp ground was circled by rustic plank
 54 DR. MOOD,

 

houses, of temporary construction, or inter-
spersed by roomy cloth tents. To children shut
up in a city, the preparation, the packing up,
the trip on the steamer, the pitching of the tent,
the rustic simplicity of the life, had great
charms, and was a healthy and delightful recrea-
tion. I would haveenjoyed ita great deal more,
had I not been required to attend the religious
services. But this requirement was never re-
laxed, except at night.

‘At break of day, a trumpet was sounded
around the circle of tents to awaken the tenters.
An hour afterwards, three blasts of the trumpet
from the preachers’ tent,‘announced a call to
family worship, in which each tenter was ex-
pected to engage. Breakfast followed imme-
diately after prayers. At eight o’clock, three
blasts of the trumpet from ‘‘the stand,” called
the people to the public worship. The worship-
ers gathered immediately and began singing.
Then came the sermon, always followed by an
exhortation, with a call for penitents to come
forward for prayer and religious instruction.
This service was repeated at eleven o’clock, at
three o’clock and at twilight. At night, on
many small stands, judiciously arranged over
the grounds, fires of pine wood were built, and
kept up until a late hour, to give light to the
tenters and worshipers. Many incidents of
 EARLY RELIGIOUS LIFE. 55

 

marked interest in my life, occurred at these
annual gatherings.

‘The preaching of the camp-meeting was all
calculated to arouse, awaken, and call to action
the religious sensibilities. Judgment, Hell,
Heaven, Redemption, Conscience, the Shortness
of Time, were the topics urged with great direct-
ness, earnestness and eloquence; and seldom an
occasion of worship passed, that penitents were
not seen at the altar invoking the prayers of
God’s people. Young as I was, I was conscious
that I had sinned, and I always went forward
for prayer, because I feared that if I did not, I
would grieve God’s Spirit. Generally the
preacher said something to encourage me, but I
am now impressed, whether correctly or not I
cannot say, that my extreme youth, and my fre-
quent attendance at the altar, led the preacher
finally to conclude that I hardly knew what I
was about. ITrecollect a conversation that I had
with one of them, or rather a catechism to
which I was subjected by one of the older
preachers, as to my feelings, desires, hopes, and
expectations, which led me to cease going to the
altar for some time. Although I could not ex-
plain my feelings, I knew I did not love God,
and feared that he did not love me, and I wanted
the peace of heart and the love of God, which in
the love-feast, I had so frequently heard pro-
 56 DR. MOOD.

fessed by Christians, and which I had also heard
many times, declared by preachers to be the
privilege of God’s believing children.

‘‘T, with my father’s family, went to Camp-
meeting in April, 1839. I was in my ninth year.
It was an occasion of great awakening. My
mind was deeply exercised, and on my return
home, I found courage to go to my mother, and
ask her if I might join the Church. It was a
bright spring day, and she was seated sewing in
our tittle parlor. She talked with me very af-
fectionately, and advised me, to my great disap-
pointment, to wait until [ understood matters a
little better. She feared I was too young to
comprehend the importance and solemnity of
the step I wanted to take. This was one, per-
haps, the only instance, I recall in life, in which
I feel that my dear mother erred. It did not
however result in anything disastrous, as I had
her daily counsel, example and prayers. But
had she died; had I been called to die, it might
have been far otherwise. I felt as distinctly my
religious needs then, as I have ever felt them
since.

‘‘During the year 1840, the buildings on the
camp ground at Cain Hoy, were burned, and
therefore instead of a Camp-meeting in the
spring, as had been usual for years, a protracted
meeting was held in Trinity Church, in April,
 EARLY RELIGIOUS LIFE. 57
1841. Quite a number of young people joined
the Church at that meeting. Without further
consultation with my mother, on the afternoon
of April 21st, 1841, in company with O. A.
Chrietzberg, James T. Munds, and E. J. Pen-
ington, [ went forward and gave my hand to
Rev. James Stacy for membership in the church.
All of my companions, like myself, became
members of the South Carolina Conference, as
itinerant preachers. James T. Munds died of
consumption a triumphant death, and E. J.
Penington is now a superannuated preacher in
the South Carolina Conference. The day after
joining the church, we went to the parsonage,
as was then customary, to have our distinctive
position assigned us in the ranks of the church
militant. Brother Stacy gave us our tickets of
probation, and we were assigned toaclass. I
still have my ticket. I have for years kept it
rolled up with other valuable papers, as a me-
mento of the most important step I ever took in
life; and for which I shall never cease to be
grateful to the Blessed God, by whose Spirit I
was prompted to take it. The ticket hes before
me and reads:
‘‘Francis A. Mood 1s admitted on probation,
in the M. E. Church, April, 22, 1841.
[Signed], JAMES STACY.
Will meet in Class No. 21.”
 58 DR. MOOD.

‘‘Class No. 21 was the young men’s class, of
which my brother Henry was then the leader.
During the week I was taken quite ill, so that I
was unable on Thursday night to go to class.
Meantime my mother at her own instance, spoke.
to the preacher, and had my name transferred
to class No. 16, of which she was a member. I
plways esteemed this act as a wise and blessed
one. Meeting in the same class with my pre-
cious mother, hearing her expressions of doubt,
hope, faith, and joy, made a deep impression on
my mind. The leader of this class, from hence-
forth my drill-master, was George Just, a
sturdy, honest, earnest, godly German. He
could not speak English plainly, but how well
and plainly and successfully could he talk of
the Divine life in the Soul! He watched over
me with paternal care, and to his death, which
it was my melancholy privilege to witness, I
ceased not to love and revere him.

‘A fter six months’ trial, I was received into
full connection. My marching orders were then
given me in the shape of a printed ticket. This
ticket also emphasized my class relationship.
‘“Will meet in class No. 16!” That tells a great
deal. Methodism was then a completely organ-
ized, thoroughly compacted salvation army.
Every one had his position assigned him. No
straggling was tolerated, for three absences from
 EARLY RELIGIOUS LIFE. 59

 

roll-call brought reproof from the commander
of that section.

‘‘Three years had passed since that memor-
able day when I gave my hand to the minister
and my name to the church records. Three
years of legal obedience, three years of dark-
ness, of struggle, of sadness. My good old
class-leader expounded, encouraged, exhorted,
but I found no relief. I read my Bible regu-
larly, but abhorred the duty, for it was full of
condemnation to me. I attended class regularly,
but abhorred the duty, for its return brought
only rebuke and suffering to my heart. [I at-
tended every service of the ministry, but ab-
horred the duty, for the sermons only chided
me and did not interest me. Sunday was the
darkest day of the week to me. The greetings
of the Sabbath chimes I wish some of our
churches had chimes that rang out gladness in
their tones, rang out only sadness to my ears,
because they reminded me, it was the Sabbath.
You wonder at this perhaps. Well, in the light
of reason it is a subject of wonder; but in the
light of simple evangelic teachings there is
nothing to wonder at. I had the training, the
doctrinal belief, the church membership, but I
lacked that which only faith could claim and
the Holy Spirit impart.

‘‘There was a camp-ground on the line of the
 60 DR. MOOD.

 

South Carolina railroad, thirty-one miles from
the city, which was proffered to the city Metho-
dists for use, until they could rebuild the houses
of their own camp-ground, which had been de-
stroyed by fire. This offer was accepted, and
the committee arranged for the meetings to be
held at the Cypress camp-ground, in April 1844.

‘‘T went with the family to this camp-ground.
I was present at the four services each day,
only to suffer four times self-condemnation.
Learned, eloquent, powerful sermons succeeded
each other, preached to multitudes. Many were
stricken to the heart. Numbers of the youth
and young men of my acquaintance yielded to
these appeals, ‘‘went up to be prayed for and
were happily converted.” Some of them had
been profane and otherwise wicked; they were
happily reconciled through faith in the atoning
blood, but I could find no peace. My burden
grew heavier. It was Saturday night of the
meeting. The services at the stand had been
dismissed. *J walked forth into the darkness,
and wandered around the circle of tents in ab-
ject sorrow and wretchedness of soul. Passing
one of the tents I heard singing within. I
paused and recognized the voices of some of the
young converts. They were engaged in a prayer
meeting. I entered. It was dark, for they were
-within an inner room. The intense darkness of
 HARLY RELIGIOUS LIFE. ‘61

 

the room seemed to typify the intense darkness
that filled my soul, and my agony became in-
tolerable. I went forward reaching for the in-
ner door. My strength utterly failed me. [
fell to the ground prostrate, crying from the
great depths of my soul. ‘‘Lord Jesus, have
mercy on me.” A moment afterwards I felt
that I could trust Jesus as my Savior then. At
once my burden was lifted, my sorrow had fled,
a light supernal beamed into my soul, and I was
filled with gladness. It seemed to me that my
whole frame would melt into thankfulness, and
I remained sobbing on the ground. As the
young men within arose from prayer, in an in-
terval of silence, they heard the sobs of some
one outside. ‘‘Billy’” Capers opened the parti-
tion door to see what it meant, and found me
lying at the threshold. He lifted me up my
heart filled with rapture and tears of gladness
choking my utterance. My friends recognized
me; they saw in my countenance the joy and
peace I felt within, and rejoiced with me.

‘‘But how shall I describe the great change
that my inward consciousness told me had
passed upon me? [ went to our tent, all had re-
tired, I drew out my little box, and got out my
red-covered Bible that my mother had given
me; for the first time in my life I felt eager to
read it. Before, I had only found condemna-
 62 DR. MOOD. -

 

tion in its pages, now I found them filled with
blessed consolations and promises. I lingered
upon passage after passage, and ufter offering
a prayer and thanksgiving, with a fervor, and
earnestness I had never before known, at a late
hour, I retired for sleep.

‘‘The blare of the morning trumpet awoke me
at day-light, and now a fresh wonder filled my
soul. For the first time in my recollection I
was glad to welcome God’s holy Sabbath. I
listened eagerly for the trumpet to sound the
opportunity of worship. I was glad, when
they said unto me, ‘Let us go into the
house of the Lord.” The venerable Reddick
Pierce was in the pulpit, a profound, but until
then, to me profoundly uninteresting preacher.
He preached on Prayer, St. Luke XVIII ch.,
1 verse. How delightful the sermon was!
Every word, every sentence, every illustration,
exactly right. I had no thought of criticism.
Ah ! the fact in the case was, I was thirsting for
the word, and how that disarms objections!

‘‘How clearly did my own experience prove
to me, ‘‘that by the deeds of the law there shall
be no flesh justified.” That by no processes of
education can the power and the joy of a relig-
ious life be imparted, that ‘‘Except ye be con-
verted, and become as little children, ”” ‘‘Except
aman be born again, he cannot see the kingdom
 HARLY RELIGIOUS LIFE. 63

 

of God.” From that hour religion was a reality
and a blessed experience. I walked carefully
before the Lord, and though in the years that
have intervened, I have, too often, been negli-
gent and unfaithful, and too often wilfully de-
parted from the path of duty, I thank God that
I have never doubted the reality of the change
of heart experienced on that memorable occa-
sion, and I doubt not but, that Saturday night
of 1844, will be a point of time, which I will
look back upon through all the rolling ages of
the coming glory,

‘‘The happy day

When Jesus washed my sins away.”

‘‘How long ye simple ones will ye love sim-
plicity ? and the scorners delight in their scorn-
ing, and fools hate knowledge?” How long ye
guilty ones will ye pursue guilty pleasure-seek-
ing happiness, and ye unbelieving ones contend
with conscience and with God? Ob come to
this fountain of living waters which will be ‘‘in
you a well of water springing up into eternal
life.’ Oh fly to Jesus. ‘‘Go to his bleeding
feet and learn how freely Jesus can forgive.”

‘‘From the hour of my conversion, so long as
I bravely and persistently did my whole duty
as it was revealed to me in the Word of God,
and by the promptings of his Spirit, I have
never ceased to enjoy the same blessed comfort
 64 DR. MOOD.

 

that I knew ‘‘when first I saw the Lord.” I
have found the path of duty, not only the path
of safety, but ‘‘the ways of pleasantness” and
the paths of peace.

‘‘A young men’s prayer meeting had been in
operation in the city, meeting on every Satur-
day night in a room near Bethel Church. After
the Cypress camp-meeting I was invited to at-
tend. We moved our place of meeting, shortly
afterwards to the basement room of the parson-
age on Calhoun street.

We used to have gracious seasons at these
meetings. Souls were converted on nearly
every occasion of our coming together; we were
zealous for God, and were accustomed to per-
suade our unconverted or ungodly companions
to go with us to the meetings.

Quite a number of preachers went out from
this prayer-meeting. Among them I can name
OQ. A. Chrietzberg, E. J. Penington, U. S.
Bird, J. A. Mood, W. W. Mood, Peter M.
Ryborn, W. Capers, O. A. Darby and others.
God met with our little assembly, and we sang
and prayed and rejoiced together.

I had been in regular attendance on these
meetings for some months, when on one occa-
sion, kneeling in the southwest corner of the
room, engaged in earnest prayer, an impression
was suddenly and vividly made on mind that I
 EARLY RELIGIOUS LIFE. 65

 

would find it my duty to preach the Gospel.

The thought came suddenly, unexpectedly
and greatly startled me. I tried to banish it,
but it hung about my heart like a great weight.
During the prayers that followed, I struggled
to shake off the impression; I tried to pray and
could not, and at last getting down on my knees,
in obedience to a call to pray, I said ina whisper
audible to myself, ‘‘Yes Lord, if it is thy will,
I will preach the Gospel.”

I was at this time about fourteen years of age.
I said nothing about my impression or my
promise, but from that time forth I ‘‘drew all
iny cares and studies that way” and made every
arrangement, and entered upon every engagc-
ment in life, feeling that it was my duty to
preach the Gospel. This purpose, as soon as
it was fixed, seemed to bring to my mind, that
‘‘peaee which passeth understanding.” 2. 2/  rd
  CHAPTER V.

THE CHARLESTON BOY.

The transfer of Asbury Mood from the blind,
though perhaps well-intended, tyranny of Mr.
Farley, to the mild, intelligent discipline of the
high school, was a bright transition to him, and
it was fraught with the best results. He, at this
time, was ten years of age; and was assigned to
a course of study looking toa preparation for
college. Owing to the ill-health of the assistant
teacher who had charge of the lower depart-
ments, Asbury came, at once, under the direct
supervision and instruction of the principal,
Henry M. Bruns, LL. D., that veteran edu-
cator who laid the foundation for the varied at-
tainments and accomplishments of so many
Charlestonians, who afterwards held high places
in either the learned professions or the walks of
literature.

Dr. Bruns, by his gentleness coupled with
firmness, his winning ways and his deep sym-
pathies, soon won the unbounded admiration of
his young pupil; and instead of being haltingly
driven to his studies, by fear or the lash, he put
forth his best endeavors, both by good behavior
 68 DR. MOOD.

 

and close attention to his books, to merit the
good opinion of his teacher.

Stimulated, first, to diligence in study, by the
hope of receiving the approbation of his instruc-
tor, he soon became interested in his text-books
and began to love learning for its own sake. He
spent several years under the instruction of Dr.
Bruns when his preparation for college was
completed.

Here we find him a model student, punctually
and promptly in his place, always tractable, and
ever prepared when the hour for recitation
came; thereby in all the years of his high school
life he never received a word of reproof, or ever
a rebuking look, from his teacher.

He was, however, at this time, in the midst
of temptations to listen to, and imitate the words
and acts, of wicked boys. He had already,
while at Mr. Farley’s school, in some degree,
been subjected to these evil influences, and from
which no doubt he had suffered, for no one dur-
ing the susceptible age of childhood, can be
brought constantly into contact with wickedness
without being deeply affected by the association.
In spite of ” these surroundings at the high
school, as he looked back from the maturity of
manhood, he felt that he had reason to thank
God, that after his conversion sufficient grace
was given him to enable him to take a decided
 THE CHARLESTON BOY. 69

 

position, which largely relieved him from these
influences. This position was so early, and so
well taken, that after his death his oldest
brother thus wrote of him: ‘‘He was conscien-
tious and upright from early childhood, as well
as during manhood, and if ever guilty of an
immoral act it never came to my knowledge, or
the knowledge of his parents. A scrupulous
integrity marked his life. He never took a
chew of tobacco, indulged in a cigar, played
cards, attended the circus or theatre, took a
drink of liquor, swore an oath, or told an un-
chaste anecdote.”

A single incident will serve to show how he
took and maintained his position among his fel-
lows. On one occasion, when his class had been
allowed the freedom of the passage-way for
study, two of the boys beginning an immoral
conversation, he arose to leave. They, suspect-
ing the cause, began to laugh to scorn this
action. Heat once bravely turned and faced
them, and told them that he was a member of
the church, and was trying to save his soul,
therefore he could not afford to remain and hear
their words. Shortly afterwards, in the presence
of several of his class, he was sneered at by a
rude sort of a bully among them, as being a
‘“oreat Christian.” He calmly said in reply, ‘I
am no great Christian, but I am a member of
 40 DR. MOOD.

 

the church trying to live right, so that I will be
saved when I die.” To the surprise of his fel-
lows tears gathered in the ruffilan’s eyes, and
turning, he said, ‘‘I wish, Mood, I was a good
Christian.” Ever afterwards this boy was his
defender and friend, true and respectful. Such
prompt declarations of his decided positions,
taken and maintained in childhood, was a
marked characteristic of the man. Among his
school-fellows, the traits of a brave boy, as de-
veloped by such trials, always demanded respect
for his presence and professions, thereby pre-
venting him from being subjected to but few
annoyances and temptations from his thought-
less class-mates, as well as causing him to wield
a wholesome influence for good, among all his.
friends.

He had been in attendance at the high school
for only a few months, when his father met with
a great reverse in business. Rev. John Mood,
in partnership with his brother, was struggling
along against the financial troubles that op-
pressed the country from 1837 to 1840, when
one of their employees, by a well-planned rob-
bery brought on the catastrophe. This man ar-
ranged for a champagne supper, to begin on
Saturday night, to which all of the clerks and
employees were invited. He succeeded in get-
ting the head clerk so completely under the
 THE CHARLESTON BOY. . 7

 

influence of liquor, that he extracted the keys
from his pocket; with them he entered the store.
He then packed two large trunks with watches,
jewelry, and plate to the value of several thous-
and dollars, and fled west. Taking the cars on
Sunday morning, and the robbery not being
discovered until Monday, he had two days the
start of his pursuers, who followed him to the
borders of Texas, where he eluded them.

By a strange coincidence, Dr. Mood, after a
lapse of thirty years, found out from parties in
the state that the man never came to Texas at
all, as his father who pursued him, had sup-
posed; but being closely pressed he left the high-
ways in Louisiana, and while hiding there he
soon sickened and died.

Having failed in business, and having surrend-
ered everything to his creditors, but his tools,
Rev. John Mood at once moved back into King
Street, and bravely began life anew, with no
capital, but an honest name, a skillful hand, and
an abiding trust in God.

While these business troubles were yet press-
ing heavily upon the family, they were also
afficted by sickness and death. First, Miss
Silena Smith, that godly woman, whose early
life was a ministry to pioneer Methodist
preachers, and whose latter years came as a
benediction to the family in which she resided,
 TW DR. MOOD.

 

was smitten with apoplexy, and after lingering
for some time passed peacefully away. She was
carried to her grave in a storm of rain and wind,
and laid to rest during the warring of the ele-
ments. This occasion clothed death, with an
awful majesty, in the eyes of the child.

Shortly after this, his baby brother, Andrew,
a sweet boy, two years of age, died next, dur-
ing the absence of his mother, who had been
summoned to the death-bed of his grand-mother,
in Oxford, Ga., he was taken sick, and though
carefully nursed, he suffered all the forlornness
of a motherless boy. While his mother was
away, his baby sister, who was with her died.
As if this were not enough, during the next sum-
mer cholera prevailed as an epidemic in
Charleston, with its fatal results, Asbury him-
self came near dying with the disease. _

The financial troubles, the sickness, the suffer-
ing and death had a marked effect upon his
mind. They awakened his serious thoughts,
softened his nature, and withal gave an impress
of sadness to this stage of his life, which lingered
about it for several years.

Soon after his father resumed work on King
Street, it became necessary to take him from
school. Huis other brothers had been entered
into various employments, and Asbury was
 THE CHARLESTON BOY. 13

 

taken into the shop with his father, to learn the
trade of watchmaker and jeweler.

Here he learned rapidly, for he possessed
naturally a mechanical turn, and all of his life
he had been a great deal among the tools and
workmen, frequently having seen and studied
the processes of melting, refining, milling, ham-
mering, and other ways of working the precious
metals.

After acquiring this trade, he obtained busi-
ness as clerk in the office of the harbor master
and port warden. Here he received good wages.
This chapter of his life was a novel one. His
employees were all old sea-captains, who had
seen much of the world and who loved to dis-
course of their voyages. From them he learned
much of other nations and countries; and by
his associations and surroundings obtaining
quite an insight into sea-life, he imbibed a strong
desire to voyage the ocean a taste not abated
up to the hour of his death.

It was his business to board every vessel that
arrived from a foreign port, and ascertain its
tonnage, and number of passengers or emigrants
aboard. He also kept the record of what was
called the protest of ships injured by leaks or
storms, and requiring a survey or examination
by the Board of Port Wardens.

There was but little for him to do, in this
 7. DR. MOOD.

 

office, during the dull months of summer, but
his energy would not allow him to spend the
time in idleness.

He had imbibed a deep love for learning, and
he did the most profitable thing that he could
have done at this time, he took his books to
the office, and by utilizing his leisure moments,
he kept up his knowledge of Latin, Greek and
mathematics. This desire to learn grew upon
him with these efforts, and despite the difficul-
ties that at this time seemed to interpose, he
determined to secure a complete collegiate edu-
cation. With his parents’ approbation, he began
hoarding all his wages for the furtherance of
this end. This purpose was fully settled with
him on February 22d, 1842, the occasion of the
Charleston College commencement, at which his
oldest brother, Henry, graduated, having won
his way through college by his own efforts. By
this example Asbury saw that he might acquire
a collegiate education by his own labors, the-
prize lay before him, he determined to emulate
his brother in the struggle putting forth every
energy until he had gained it.

His brother had secured the means of defray-
ing his college expenses by his labors in, at the
time, rather a neglected field. He had been
sent to Cokesbury to school, but upon his father
finding that he was ‘unable longer to assist him,
 THE CHARLESTON BOY. 75

 

and his own labors as gunsmith not supporting
him he returned to Charleston. Despondent in
reference to the future, while feeling it his duty
to preach, he was at a loss what to do. He felt
the need of an education to fit him for his high
calling. He went to his father with his troubles,
and that good man said to him, “‘If God has
called you to preach, follow the leadings of his
Providence and your way will be opened.” Soon
after this, in a most unexpected manner, a way
was opened, not only for him, but a way by
which each one of his four brothers, in turn,
was enabled to solve the financial problem of an
education, and even to leave college with a re-
spectable cash balance on hand.

Belonging to the Methodist Church in Charles-
ton, was a large membership of free colored peo-
ple. Some of them were persons of means and
character. They realized the advantages of an
education and desired such for their children; but
owing to the prejudice of the times, they had
found it difficult to employ any capable or prop-
er person as a teacher. A proposition was
mace to Henry Mood to organize a school for
their benefit, to be taught in the afternoon,
thereby allowing him to attend college in the
morning. He agreed to make the trial. A
Board of Trustees was organized by the leading
colored men of the city, headed by William and
 a DR. MOOD.

 

Samuel Weston. They rented a house, a school
was opened, and Henry Mood entered the Col-
lege of Charleston. This school, under his in-
struction grew rapidly in numbers. It paid him
four hundred dollars the first year, and was
soon so enlarged that the second son, John, on
seeing the opportunity for an education aban-
doned the study of dentistry, upon which he had
entered, became assistant in the school and en-
tered the college also.

When Henry: Mood graduated, John Mood
became principal, and James Mood assistant.

During the year 1844, while Asbury Mood
was yet in the harbor master’s and the port
warden’s office, the excitement in the Methodist
Church incident to the attempt made in the
General Conference which met in New York,
to suspend Bishop Andrew from the Bishopric
without form of trial, and which resulted in the
division of the church, proved very interesting
to this Charleston boy. Bishop Andrew was
his uncle, and was frequently at his father’s
house. Some of the negroes who caused the
conscience agonies of the Northern brethren
were family negroes, and he knew them well.
He heard the matter frequently discussed at his
home, so he read with great interest the General
Conference proceedings, and when the Bishop
reached Charleston on his way home, he listened
 THE CHARLESTON BOY. V7

 

with eagerness to the conversation of the dele-
gates who visited the Bishop at his father’s
house, the Bishop himself saying but little on
the subject. As a boy he thus became interested
in church polity and history, which in later
years led to great familiarity upon these sub-
jects.

On Tuesday, March 25, 1845, James Mood
and John Mood graduated from the College of
Charleston. James Mood at once began the
study of medicine, the place of assistant thus
being vacated, at the suggestion of John Mood,
who remained as principal, Asbury, though not
yet fifteen years of age, supplied that position,
and at the same time re-entered the high school.
This was a glad opportunity to him, for he saw
that he had in his reach the fulfilment of a long-
cherished desire. This, however, was a very
laborious period of his life, and a less deter-
mined boy would have tired of the labor and
failed in the effort.

The school for the colored youth was taught
in a large, comfortable room, that could be well
ventilated in summer and well warmed in winter.
The trustees looked after the matter of tuition
as well as incidental expenses, relieving the
teachers from these details and guaranteeing to
them a per capita for each pupil enrolled and in
attendance. Pupils were not admitted into
 78 DR. MOOD.

 

regular connection with the school until they
could read and write. The most elementary
class studied arithmetic, geography, history,
and elementary philosophy. The most advanced
classes pursued the studies of the senior year of
the College of Charleston, including the Latin
and Greek Tacitus and the Odyssey of Homer.
A debating society existed, composed of the
members of the advanced classes, organized and
directed by the teachers. The society possessed
an excellent nucleus of a library in which many
volumes of standard works could be found.
The school also had its regular public anniver-
‘sary occasions, which partook very much of the
style of the white schools in the city. Nothing
was neglected, which in the opinions of the
teachers would tend to the mental or spiritual
improvement and elevation of the pupils. These
things show that this labor was not for financial
considerations only.

During the existence of this school, and that
of a flourishing branch the outgrowth of it,
it has been estimated that at least twelve hund-
red children, at one time and another, came un-
der its care and influence. There these young
teachers did good and successful work, of which
they were never afterwards ashamed; but on the
other hand, it was evera great pleasure to know,
that by their labors in this neglected, and at this
 THE CHARLESTON BOY. 79

 

time despised field of toil, their family contrib-
uted so much to the intellectual and religious
welfare of the colored people of Charleston.

Prior to these secular labors, and probably
leading to them, Rev. John Mood, as early as
1832, organized a Sunday-school for the colored
children, which he maintained for years by his
solitary efforts. As his sons grew up they were
required to assist him. There Asbury taught
the catechism to the little blacks, in Cumber-
land Church basement, when he was so young
as scarcely to be able to read well himself.
Thus he early learned not to despise the col- -
ored race as unworthy religious and intellectual wm
instruction.

The double role, which he had assumed, of
student and teacher, demanded that all his time
must be economized, and used with utmost dili-
gence und method. His duties required him to
be at the high school at half past eight o’clock
in the morning, and there to remain until half
past one. He must then eat dinner and be ready
to enter upon his work as teacher promptly at
two o’clock. There he labored until half past
five in the afternoon. Here, by this severe train-
ing, he acquired habits of punctuality and dili-
gence, and fixed them so deeply that in after
life it was frequently said of him, ‘‘he is never
unemployed, and never triflingly employed,”
 80 DR. MOOD.

 

Upon his return to the high school, he found
himself far behind the class with which he had
been associated. Dr. Bruns, however, gave him
permission to try, by extra recitations and study,
to overtake this class, and if successful, prom-
ised to allow him to enter college with it.
How well he succeeded in these efforts, which
added to his tasks already assumed, and made
his labors hercGlean, may be learned from his
school report of March, 1846, the month which
closed his preparation for college. At the close
of this month, he had not only overtaken his
class, but in that class he was awarded jirst
honor. Upon leaving the high school for col-
lege, this honor was announced by Dr. Bruns,
who appointed him to the distinction of deliver-
ing an original valedictory to the teachers and
school, in behalf of his class-mates. This being
done, the class filed off to college, where hence-

forth they were fo enter upon the higher role of
men, 2~ 2/- /4
 
 

CHAPTER VI.
IN COLLEGE.

The formative period of the life that is engag-
e ing us has largely passed. Asbury Mood early
Sf aligned himself in the course of his future ac-
h tion; but in the employments, surroundings and
e college associations, new forces, whether by di-

i rect application or unconscious interaction, were
f to give direction to his thoughts, and thereby
I. tend to the development of his character.

, Charleston College is an unassuming institu-
. tion. It is one of the oldest educational founda-
il tions in the South, having been incorporated by
if act of assembly in 1785. It is directly under
 F the patronage and support of the City Council,
‘ee who by annual appropriations supplement the

otherwise meager income, and it claims to be
independent of political influence and sectarian
patronage. The faculty at this time was com-
posed of six highly cultured gentlemen, presided
over by Wm. P. Finley, LL. D.“butpn the whole,
the system of administration and instruction
was old-fashioned and non-progressive, running
in the same grooves that had been cut years and

years before. The recitation was cold and

 

 
 82 DR. MOOD.

 

formal. The professors seemed to feel that their
duty was fully discharged by their efforts in the
lecture room. There was not that personal con-
tact which induces personal sympathy and en-
couragement between the faculty and _ the
students, except in individual cases, where either
from relationship or social status they saw fit
to cultivate it. Asbury Mood felt the effect of
this course deeply. He was in college four
years. During all that time the entire corps of
professors and trustees never spoke twenty
words to him outside of the recitation room, nor
did they speak as many words to his parents as
to the progress of their son in college, although
these trustees and professors passed his father’s
house and place of business almost daily. This
was a striking illustration of the social barriers
set up even in the literary and learned circles of
the state, for there were students who held
daily intercourse with these same professors and
trustees, both at their homes and elsewhere,
while those who had not the ‘‘guinea’s stamp”
were invariably among the neglected, and they
felt that the distinction was not accidental.

At the time he entered college Henry Mood
was on a visit home, and on the day before en-
tering the institution, this brother gave him
some advice that was to be a blessing to him
throughout his college course. The young
 IN COLLEGE. 83

 

preacher invited Asbury out for a walk, and
then said in substance: ‘-You are about entering
college. J have been all along where you are
about to travel, and I know something of its
trials and perils. I think I can help you, and to
do so, I want you to promise me four things.
You can dothem, you ought to do them, and take
my word for it, if you carry out your promises
vou will never regret this proposal.”

Having great confidence i in his brother, he did
not hesitate to assert his willingness to make the
promises.

Then said his brother: ‘You are a professor
of religion, and a member of the Methodist
Chur ch. You are going where irreligion and
scorn of piety are in the ascendant; now I want
you to promise me that you will take the first
opportunity offered you, to avow your Method-
ism and discipleship with Christ, instead of wait-
ing for some opposing influence to draw it from
you as a confession ”

The fulfilment of this promise would necessi-
tate the exercise of Christian courage, but As-
bury promised.

‘‘Now,” continued he, tj is the j impression of
your friends that you expect to preach, and [
want you to promise me that you will join one
of the debating societies as soon after entering
college as possible.”
 84 DR. MOOD.

 

This he gladly promised.

‘-And now I want you to promise me, that
you will make an effort to take part in the de-
bates at the very first opportunity given you.”

Not knowing how much this involved, he
nevertheless made the promise.

‘Finally, I want you to promise me, to ac-
cept, and discharge to the best of your ability,
any and every duty imposed upon you by your
society or fellow students, that you can perform
in good conscience.” .

This was also promised.

His brother then explained to him the advan-
tages that would accrue if he would follow out
these lines to which he was pledged. Henry
Mood knew the surroundings and the boy. It
was unnecessary to speak of the course of study
for that was laid down; it was unnecessary to
admonish him to be studious, for Asbury felt
the worth of an education by knowing what it
was costing him, even if his good sense and
energy would let him be otherwise; it was un-
necessary to warn him of bad habits, for if he
avowed his church relationship, that would he
the best shield from temptation, and the best
protection for his religious life and character.
The promises were exacted, and his brother
knew that they would be fulfilled.

After passing the formalities of the entrance
 In COLLEGE. 85

examination, the class were gravely informed
that they had been admitted, and their names
would be enrolled on the college register. The
college regulations were explained, lessons
assigned, and they were dismissed with the or-
ders to be promptly on hand, at a given hour,
the next morning.

The first recitation was to be made to Profes-
sor Miles, who occupied the chair of mathemat-
ics. After prayers had been conducted in the
chapel, the class solemnly filed into the recita-
tion-room. With austere dignity the professor
drew out his little book, and with studied de-
liberation called the roll, emphasizing the mes¢er
which he placed before each name. The class
were awe-stricken by hearing themselves for the
first time addressed as men, as well as by the
novelty of the surroundings, and the demeanor
of the professor.

W. K. Bachman, whose name appeared first
on the roll, had been prepared for college by a
teacher having the reputation for considerable
severity, and who was quite deaf. His pupils,
in all their recitations were required to speak in
a loud tone. Prof. Miles called, ‘‘Mr. Bach-
man,” and then asked in his slow, measured
way: ‘‘Mr. Bachman, what is a straight line?”
Bachman, by this time thoroughly excited,
gave way to his habit and bawled at the top of
 +

86 DR. MOOD.
his voice, ‘The shortest distance between two
points !”

All present were astounded, Prof. Miles’s
look of amazement, as much as anything else,
made it ifresist¢ble to the class, which broke out
into laughter. Prof. Miles was now convinced
that it was a pre-arranged joke, and thoroughly
exasperated, he jumped to his feet, and peremp-
torily ordered the class from the room. The.
class was now terror-stricken; the prospect of
being hurled out of college as soon as they had
entered greatly alarmed the young students.
Several of them hastened to explain, as did
Bachman to apologize. The professor finally
was pacified and proceeded with the recitation.

Immediately, upon entering college, our
young friend made application for membership
in the Cliosgphig Society. He was regularly
elected and notified to be present, for initiation,
at the next meeting. Thus he fulfilled one of
the promises made to his brother. The time
arrived; he was duly initiated. The debate was
opened; the question for discussion was: “Is
ridicule a greater power for good, or for evil?”
The dialectic seniors had wrangled over the
different points for several hours; Asbury Mood
sat listening to the first regular debate he had
ever heard. There was a pause when, to his
astonishment, the president turned to him and
 IN COLLEGE. 87
said, ‘‘Will not the new member, Mr. Mood,
favor the society with his views on the ques-
tion?’ The words of the president were fol-
lowed by loud cries over the hall, ‘‘Mood!”
‘‘Mood!” This was the cruel custom of having
fun at the expense of a new member, who gen-
erally made himself ridiculous either by his
frightened looks, his awkward manner, or his
clumsy excuses. But Asbury looked on it as
the opportunity to fulfill one of the promises
made to his brother, and he determined to make
the effort. Surely ‘the spirit helpeth our in-
firmities” whenever we essay to do our full
duty, for no sooner had his mind been made up
to meet the conditions of the third promise,
than the first promise flashed across his mind
with the -whisper, ‘‘now is the time to avow
your Methodism and discipleship.” Then, to
the surprise of the society, and with every eye
bent upon him, he arose, and in the course of
his attempted speech said in substance: ‘‘Mr.
President, I am a member of the Methodist
Church, and am trying to serve God. When I
joined the church, quite a number of young per-
sons of my age joined with me. Now, sir, as I
look around in that church, I miss from among
the members, a number who were then warm in
the love of God, but who no longer are counted
with his people. Where are they now? Gone
 88 Dk. MOOD.

 

back to the world. Why so? Many of them
through fear of ridicule, and like Peter, they
have denied their Lord. I therefore conclude
from my experience, that ridicule is more
powerful for evil than for good.”

This speech was only a boy’s argument, yet
we see in it the foundation of the coming man.
He had by this one act accomplished that which
would be invaluable to him in coming years;
for he had kept sacred, promises difficult to ful-
fil. He had made a brave beginning in the
matter of debate, and thereby was committed to
an active and positive membership in the society.
This resulted in his being elected, the same
night, as the next ‘“‘monthly orator,” which
under the fourth promise he was compelled to
accept. And then most important of all he had
made public‘avowal of church affiliations and
religious purposes from how much temptation
did this act deliver him! During his four years
at college, no fellow: student ever asked him to
drink, to play a game of cards, or to engage in
anything unbecoming the character of a pro-
fessed Christian. He may have incurred ridi-
cule, or sarcasm, but with a single exception,
and that early in the course, never a deliberate
invitation to doa knowingly wrong act. It was
assumed by his class-mates, that having made
such a declaration, and at such a time, it would
 IN OOLLEGR. 89

 

be useless to propose to him any line of conduct,
in violation of it.

The occasion alluded to, on which he was
solicited to join in a wrong act, was in the latter
part of the freshman year. One day, as Mood
was hurrying out to get his dinner in order to
be on time for his duties at the colored school,
one of his class-mates notified him that the class
wished to confer with him, at once, upon urgent
business. When he reached the tree on the
campus under which they were assembled, he
found them organized, one of their number act-
ing as chairman, and another as secretary. It
appears that the class had a great fit of mischief-
making upon them. They had been in college
for several months, and they would soon be dis-
missed for vacation. They had done no ‘‘deed
of daring” that they could brag of'to their com-
panions not in college, and in after years they
could not do as they had heard their seniors do,
 relate tricks played by them when in college.

After Mood had been duly enrolled as present,
the chairman informed him that the class had
determined to come to the college that night,
dismantle the bell, upset the benches in the
chapel, then force their way into the laboratory
and there destroy certain designated pieces of
apparatus,  to all of which his co-operation was
demanded. He, however, emphatically declined
 90 DR. MOOD.

 

to have anything to do with the matter, and
promptly denounced the whole proceedings.

‘That is precisely what we expected,” said
the chairman, unintentionally complimenting
him. ‘‘Now we intend to go forward in this affair.
Of course the class will be suspected, and sum-
moned before the faculty, when you are asked
‘what you know of the matter;’ what do you
expect to say?

“I expect to answer that I had nothing what-
ever to do with it.”

‘‘Well,” said the chairman, ‘‘do you not see
that if every one in the class answers accordingly,
those who did have something to do with it will
be detected? ”

‘‘T see it so,” was the answer.

‘‘And furthermore,” continued the chairman
rising to his feet in indignation, ‘‘You are will-
ing to act Benedict Arnold after this fashion,
and betray your class-mates? Sir, we anticipated
this, and I am directed to say in behalf of the
class that when this shall have occurred, they
will expel you, sir!”

That being a new and unprecedented turn to
give matters, Asbury Mood asked what was
meant by the class expelling him

‘-It means, sir,” was the reply, ‘‘that we will
hold no intercourse with you, that we will not
so much as speak to you, and regard you as
 IN COLLEGE. 91

dunnde-

no fit associate for any member of the class.”

To this, Asbury Mood replied, with perhaps
more force and emphasis than was necessary to
maintain a Christian character, as follows:

“Gentlemen, I am poor and struggling to
secure an education. Now it would be madness
for me to help destroy the apparatus through
which I expect to be taught; furthermore, [ have
reached the present point in life without aid, or
with very little countenance from any of you,
and I think I can still get along in life without
your friendship or countenance; so go ahead .
with your mischief and your expulsion.” Hav-
ing thus delivered himself he left them. The
misehief was not perpetrated and the matter
was never discussed afterwards.

Dr. Mood regretted in after life that he so often
chose brusque and decided methods of maintain-
ing his views while in college, instead of taking
more pains to propitiate the prejudices of his
associates, thereby showing his true character
in an unamiable and unnatural light. He inter-
preted many things then in connection with his
teachers, as well as his fellow students to have
been prompted by his poverty or connection
with a colored school, which afterwards consid-
ering them in the clearer judgment of manhood,
he felt persuaded was, in part, or altogether,
imaginary.
 §2 DR. MOOD.

In the meantime, John Mood, the principal
in the colored school was arranging to give up
his position, and the gratifying fact was devel-
oped that William Mood felt called to preach
the Gospel, and preparatory to that work wished
to enter college. Then, almost, by natural suc-
cession, Asbury Mood took his brother John’s
place as principal, and William succeeded <As-
bury as assistant. He entered college as the
class rose sophomore. From that time on,
through college the lives of these two hrothers
were closly interwoven, the younger always felt
under great indebtedness, for the anxious care,
supervision, assistance, and encouragement as
extended by the elder brother.

Taking the more prominent position in secu-
lar affairs, he was now frequently called on to
conduct the young men’s prayer meeting, which
was still in active operation. He was also oc-
casionally called on to pray in public, in the
prayer meetings of the church. It seemed to
be taken for granted that he would preach, and
so not long after he had passed the mid-term
examination of the sophomore class, just after
the Christmas holidays, and at the begining of a
new year, his father, without his solicitation,
handed him a paper reading as follows: 

‘The Leaders Meeting of Cumberland Charge
in Charleston, S. C., having recommended F.
 IN COLLEGE. 03

 

Asbury Mood, and I, believing him properly

qualified, do hereby give him license to exhort.
[Signed],

Jan. 4, 1848. A. M. Forster.

He at once entered upon his duties, with the
determination to magnify the office. To this
end he arranged for regular appointments at the
marine hospital, at the alms house, and at the
jail. His early efforts were, no doubt, very im-
perfect, but they were delivered without notes
in deep sincerity, and after as thorough prepar-
ation as his other duties would allow.

His college life was marked with but few in-
cidents or interruptions. A schism in the literary
society, a warm discussion on the campus, a
pointed argument in the military company, is
the catalogue of occurrences out of the regular
routine of work and study.

Paul H. Hayne, the southern poet of celebrity,
was his class-mate, and he has kindly given us
the following reminiscences of him at this
time: 

“It was not until late in the second year of
the course, that I became really acquainted with
Mood’s sterling character. Previous to this I
knew him as a conscientious and fairly advanced
student, holding an honorable, though not brill-
lant position-in his class; and as an amiable
companion, with a certain gift of quaint humor/
 94 DR. MOOD.

 

But an incident occurred about this period. at
one of the meetings of our ‘‘college society,”
which foreshadowed what must afterwards have
been a marked trait of his; (viz), his quiet tact,
and power of influence over others by the exer-
cise of strong common sense, sharpened by
irony. |

Our literary society, like the constituency of
Katonsville in the ‘‘Pickwick Papers,” had _ be-
come divided upon the question of a choice of
president; and like these Eatonsville voters, the
crisis was too momentous in their view to be
settled quietly. Each party swore by its candi-
date !

A turmoil ensued, which almost resulted in a
serious fracas; but in the nick of time, Mood
leaped upon his chair, and with an instinctive
comprehension of the situation, made one of the
most pungent addresses ever delivered 2m-
promptu by a sophomore; an address so com-
pounded of seriousness and humor, of good
sense and a specious of rallying sarcasm, that
the more violent became rather ashamed of
themselves, and the storm was allayed.

“There is more in that man,” said I, sotto
voce, ‘than I have hitherto imagined.”

From that day we became in many respects
intimate. I learned to appreciate his quiet in-
dependence of character, his high views of life,
 IN COLLEGE. 95

 

his- simple, undeviating conscientiousness; his
loyal, affectionate nature and noble heart; and
also the scope of an intellect, which never con-
descended to mere showy display, because it
was buttressed upon the rock of solid power,
made the more effective by attainments as solid.

‘Searching the remote past, somewhat sadly
and painfully, one other circumstance associated
with our college life occurs to me. It is signifi-
cant eno’ in its way.

A party of students were seated under the
trees of the campus, and discussing the charac-
ter of the professors.

The opinions generally expressed were the
reverse of charitable. Indeed if one was to ac-
cept the verdict of these young moral icono-
clasts the faculty must have been in a terribly
bad way! At length, the abuse becoming out-
rageous, Mood, who was present, but thus far
silent, could hold his peace no longer. ‘Well
gentlemen,” said he, very dryly, ‘‘bad as these
persons are, according to your account, there is
one thing at least you should remember.”

‘What is that?”

‘‘Why that these unfortunate criminals are at
all events our fellow-creatures/” Three years
after I chanced to be reading a novel, just pub-
lished, by an English writer, in which there is
a scene that represents certain young officers of
 96 DR. MOOD.

 

the English ‘‘Guards,” smoking and drinking
after dinner, and lavishly abusing, each one,
his own father, for docking the ‘‘supplies.”

‘‘Whereupon, one of them makes precisely
the same observation with which our friend had
rebuked his companions upon the college
campus.

‘‘The coincidence struck me as singular and
interesting.”

Soon after entering upon his senior year, he
made application for license to preach, and after
passing the usual examination on christian ex-
perience, doctrine and discipline, by a unani-
mous vote of the Quarterly Conference, he was
regularly licensed on September 11, 1849 then
in his twentieth year.

In speaking of his first efforts in the pulpit he
says:  .

‘Soon after getting my license to preach, by
invitation of Rev. A. G. Stacy, the pastor, I
preached my first sermon at St. James Chapel,
subsequently known as Spring Street Church.
My effort, of course, was attended by all the
excitement and trepidation likely to accompany
such anevent. I took for my text: ‘‘And fear
not them which kill the body, but are not able
to kill the soul; but rather fear him which is able
to destroy both soul and body in hell. Are not
two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of
 IN COLLEGE. 97

 

them shall not fall to the ground without your
Father. But the very hairs of your head are all
numbered.” Math. XI ch., 28, 29, 30 vs. I
preached extemporaneously, although greatly
tempted to write and memorize or read my
sermon. Not long after this, by invitation of
the pastor I preached at Bethel on Sunday after-
noon. This time I got along much better so
far as my own comfort was involved. The third
time I preached was at Trinity. There I held
my membership. I was greatly alarmed and
lost my self-possession almost completely. After
the sermon, I walked home in company with
my father; said he, ‘‘Mr.  , was present, did
you see him?”

‘No Sir.”

After a while he mentioned another, and
another, with the same reply from me; at last
he exclaimed! ‘‘Why my son, whom did you
see?”

‘‘Nobody sir, but some black people in the
front gallery.” |

‘This reply seemed to amuse nim very much.

‘“Connected with the orphan asylum of the
city was a tasty chapel in which the Protestant
clergy of the city preached by turns, on Sunday
afternoons. I received a polite note from the
Superintendent asking me to officiate ona given
Sabbath. This was to be my fourth attempt.
 98 DR. MOOD.

 

Meeting the commissioners in the main build-
ing, I was escorted in great form to the chapel.
The organ an addendum, of which Methodist
churches were then innocent played a voluntary
as we entered. My appointment, as was cus-
tomary, had been announced in the city papers.
When I arose, before me sat several of the
faculty, and a number of the college students..
I lost my self-possession entirely, and I have
never recalled, to this hour, what I then said.
As soon as I had finished my sermon, I fled
home, disconcerted and distressed.

‘‘Another trial awaited me. I was again in-
vited to preach at Bethel. When I arose to
read my text, just before me sat Bishop Capers,
but the good Lord aided me, and I got through
with less mortification.

‘Now asI look back, I feel very grateful,
that despite my many occasions of failure, I
never took to manuscript, determined as I was
to make an extemporaneous preacher if possible.
I had no fluency in my early ministry, I was
often at a loss for a word, and I hesitated and
stammered so much, that on one occasion I re-
member being asked, ‘Whether my impediment
in speech was natural or a disease.”

And so, the close of his college course was
drawing on apace. His school and college life
certainly had been abundant in labors. Every
 IN COLLEGE. 99

 

hour had to be redeemed. The vacations, the
time of relaxation for other students, must by
him be devoted to study; for he must prepare
in advance, some of the studies for the following
term, so as to be able to continue his labors, and
maintain his position in his class. During these
years the only occasion of relaxation wis the
week at the camp-meeting, held every April.

Is it to be wondered at then, that this young
man looked forward, with glad anticipations to
the hour of his graduation? That he longed for.
the coming occasion at which he would see the
fond hope, for which he had so diligently
labored, at last fully realized? The day came,
February 26th, 1850, was the fourth great oc-
casion of his life. With music and banners,
and marshals and batons, the class escorted by
the mayor, aldermen and college officials, was
marched to the great Hibernian Hall. A
crowded audience arose to greet them. The
salutatory, the orations, interspersed with music,
the baccalaureate address, the diplomas, and
then the valedictory, were in turn delivered.
Asbury Mood graduated with honor in a class
of thirteen, which numbered among its members
such men as Paul H. Hayne, Prof. John Mc-
Crady of Sawanee College of Tenn., and Hon.
W. K. Bachman, of Columbia, 8. C. The sub-
ject of his oration was: ‘‘Christianity an Organ
 100 DR. MOOD.

 

of Political Movements.” It was well received
by the large audience, and a few moments after
he reached home, he was waited upon by the
editor of a literary magazine who entreated him
to write for its pages.

Thus the goal of his early life was reached.
He was no longer under tutors and govenors,
but a’man:

“The world before him, where to choose
And Providence his guide.” Q~2({~ iy
 CHAPTER VII.
RETROSPECT, TEMPTATIONS. THE DECISION.

A reaction generally follows the excitement ~
of graduation. A college education is not ar
end. Happy is the youth who maps out a life-
plan upon entering college, and whose hands
are tingling to begin his chosen vocation when
he receives his diploma. It is too often the
case, that not until this moment does the young
man fully realize that there is an outer world.
That in it he must assume a responsibility,  must
bear a part; and then the question that has been
pressing for some time on the parental mind
now presses upon his own, ‘‘what shall he do?”
A difficult question to be answered, for an edu-
cation, received without a purpose, is but a fine
und polished blade fashioned without design.
It is true that the sword may be ‘‘beaten into a
plow-share,” but this is not the best way for
miking plow-shares.

Asbury Mood had years and years before con-
secrated himself to a life-work. Education was
striven for, asa means. With him it is a sharp
and cunning ¢ool, full of purpose; and held in
the firm grip of character. Fully equipped he
 102 DR. MOOD.

 

stands upon the threshold of a useful manhood,
and from this eminence, can complacently look
back upon his past life. He had been excep-
tionally fortunate in his surroundings. The
principal features and influences which tended
to the development of his character were just
such as were necessary to prepare him for the
work in which he would engage.

He was inestimably blessed in the example,
instruction, and training of his pious, loving
parents, as well as the elevating influences of
all his home associations. Every member of
the family, early became members of the church
and grew up exemplary Christians.

From his cradle he was a regular attendant
upon public worship. He enjoyed in the city
of Charleston, the constant ministrations of the
ablest preachers in the connection. This, as an
item of education, was invaluable to him. There
he had the advantages of the best of pulpit in-
struction in sound Methodist, or rather Scriptural
doctrine, and in the history, customs, and pecul-
larities of that church, on whose altars he had
consecrated his life and labors. He early dis-
covered that the sermons of the preacher were
full of instruction to any boy who would listen.
He listened ‘‘the seed fell in good ground,
sprang up, and bore abundant harvests.”

He had the training of the class-meetings,
 THE DECISION. 103

 

and met in the same class with his mother. He
heard her relute weekly. her experience; and
with his knowledge of her daily ‘walk and con-
versation’, her anxieties, trials and crosses, it
gave him a view of the inner christian life,
thereby causing him to place a high value upon
things that otherwise he may have greatly un-
dervalued; besides this, it early gave to him a
lofty ideal of this Christian life, and increased ~~
his longings after that holiness without which
no man can see the Lord.

The shop and the office developed his mechan-
ical skill and the practical turn of his mind,
which proved invaluable to him in his subse-
quent labors. He could handle tools success-
fully, even using with dexterity that little
instrument which the other sex claim is theirs
exclusively to ply. He graduated wearing a
corded standing shirt collar, of a new style,
which with five others he had made during the
week before.

In his college life and the school days prepa-
tory to it, much was forced upon him that in-
duced self-reliance, and independence of charac-
ter, which disregarded public sentiment so long
as his conscience approved. Though his father
dealt in precious stones and jewelry, the family
grew up with a distaste, almost amounting toa
contempt, for the personal use of such things.
 104 DR. MOOD.

 

They seemed naturally to seek the plain and
simple in their attire, and to avoid ‘‘The put-
ting on of gold and costly apparel.”

Reared in a city, his manners and perceptions
were polished and quickened by contact with
the activities, refinements and enlightening in-
fluences of city life.

His poverty, also, was to him a discipline,
may we say an advantage? One of the presi-
dents of the United States said: ‘‘Poverty is
uncomfortable, as I cari testify; but nine times
out of ten, the best thing that can happen to a
young man is to be tossed overboard and. com-
‘pelled to sink, or swim for himself. In all my
acquaintance I never knew a man to be drowned
who was worth the saving.” By his labors he
learned the value of money, and by his close
economies how difficult it is to keepit. The
consciousness had grown upon him that every-
thing he hoped for in this world must be won
by his own unaided force and industry. He had
acquired thrifty habits, self-helpfullness, self-
trust. These are decided advantages, and pov-
erty had given them to him. The industrious,
methodical habits, habits of patient exactness,
thus acquired, were the great secrets of his un-
tiring labors, and explained how it was that he
still accomplished so much in his latter days,
when enfeebled by disease. With such bless-
 THE DECISION. 105

 

ings, trainings, and advantages; with profession
chosen and purposes fixed, the little school was
for a short time to claim the entire attention of
himself and his brother William, until it had
brought them sufficient means for the purchase
of a ministerial equipment, and enable them to
enter upon the life of the itineracy with a mod-
erate degree of comfort and independence.

They at once changed the hour of recitation
from the evening to the morning and devoting
their time more exclusively to the work, they
had such large accessions as to require them to
secure enlarged accommodations, to re-classify
their school, and employ an assistant. W. W.
Wilbur, who wished to enter the ministry, but
being somewhat in debt, did not feel free to do
so, took the position.

The income now from the school was consider-
able, so that at the close of the year the two
brothers had been able to lav by enough to pur-
chase a buggy with a good horse and harness,
besides a very good sum of money, which they
loaned to their father, thereby aiding him to
purchase a comfortable home and _ business
stand.

William Mood obtained license to preach im-
mediately after graduation. The two brothers
were full of zeal in the ministry of the Gospel,
and finding some leisure at their disposal, they
 106 DR. MOOD.

 

arranged to fill regular preaching appointments
at a number of places near the city. In their
labors they did not forget the colored children
under their charge, and as fruits of their efforts
in the school, a powerful work of grace was de-
veloped, causing a large number of the most
advanced pupils to be converted and join the
church,  some of these turned out to be leading
men men of prominence and influence among
their people, and important trusts in both
church and state were afterwards filled by them.

When the colored school closed for the sum-
mer holidays, Asbury Mood, for the first time
in years found that there was no urgent de-
mand upon his time. He really had a vaca-
tion, and he determined to take a trip into the
country both for recreation and entertainment.
The tour extended through the upper part of
South Carolina and a portion of Georgia, and
was made almost altogether by means of private
conveyance. During the trip he attended a
number of camp-meetings, and enjoyed the cx-
ceptional advantages of accompanying the vener-
able William J. Parks, at that time a presiding
elder in the Georgia Conference, on a consider-
able portion of a round on his district. He saw
a good deal of country life that was new to him,
and was initiated into many interesting items of
itinerant life. It was on this jaunt that he, for
 THE DECISION. 107

 

the first time saw and heard Rev. James Danelly,
about whom so many rich anecdotes are related
and though struck with his peculiarities and ec
centricities yet some of the sermons of this stal-
wart old preacher affected and impressed: him
deeply.

After his return to Charleston and to his
school labors, and just as the year was drawing
to a close and with it the appointed time for the
annual conference was approaching, a great
temptation arose.

The trustees of the colored school knowing
that the teachers had accepted and used their
offices mainly as a means for obtaining an edu-
cation, and that this object had been accom-
plished, they were informed that the young men
intended entering the ranks of the traveling
ministry at an early day; they determined, how-
ever not to give up these teachers without an
effort to retain them, for they were very anxious ,
that the free colored youth of the city should
continue under the instruction that had proved
so acceptable and beneficial to them; they there-
fore, in an interview with Asbury Mood and
his co-laborers, besought them to continue to
tench. They argued that teaching was a work
to which ministers were often appointed; that
great good had already resulted from their
labors, showing that the Lord approved their
 108 DR. MOOD.

 

work and that it was clearly their duty to re-
main. Upon the young men showing some
hesitancy, the trustees changed their tactics and
solemnly warned them to look well to it that
pride was not influencing their action and de-
cision in the matter. Then they grew gracious
and proposed to build a larger and more com-
pletely furnished school-room, which would in-
duce larger patronage and increased pay.

The young men felt the force of these argu-
ments. The temptation to remain at home with
a liberal and certain income was very strong to
Asbury Mood. The school paid one thousand
dollars a year, and he would enjoy the associa-
tions of home and the comforts of city life. If
he entered the conference, the disciplinary allow-
ance for a single man was one hundred dollars,
if it was collected; then it was probable that he
would be placed upon a hard and distant circuit.
The matter of money was not the strong argu-
mez: with our young preacher, it was the dread
of tae circuit work, the constant preaching, the
contact with strangers, and above all, the long
and lonesome rides between appointments. He
was used to the city, the school-room, to his
peculiar work and so the temptation to remain
in it, grew stronger and stronger day by day.

The trustees pressed the matter, plans were
submitted and proposals for the new school-house
 THE DECISION. 109

 

were sought and carefully considered, but the
peace of mind of Asbury Mood began to be in-
terrupted. He looked into his own heart, and
saw and felt that the argument for doing good
was not really the one that was weighing the
heaviest with him, but it was the love of home
and ease, and the associations so dear to him,
that were prompting his action and decision.
So he tore away the frail fabric of selfish logic,
and determined to execute that solemn vow
made on his knees at that memorable prayer
meeting, eight years before. Wilbur yielded to
the snare. He determined to remain, teaching
the colored children, as he argued, in a mission-
ary capacity and he never entered upon the
regular work. He married, and after a tremen-
dous struggle with his convictions, gave up his
license to preach, left the church, finally lost his
reason and became an inmate of the South Caro-
lina lunatic asylum.

Bishop Andrew had advised that as the South
Carolina conference was comparatively small in
numbers, and, as he expressed it, he ‘‘expected
all of the brothers to do well” that all four of
them should not join that body, because, in
some respects, they might be in each other’s
way.

About this time, the interest of the church in
the China mission was being awakened, and As-
 110 DR. MOOD.

 

bury Mood, in the highest spirit of consecration,
and after carefully-and prayerfully considering
the matter offered himself for that work.

At the reception of a favorable answer from
the Board of Missions, he began at once to make
preparations for leaving home, for the long
journey, and for entering upon the life work in
that heathen land. He was deeply in earnest,
he had offered himself, he had been accepted
and he meant to ‘‘go.”

Bishop Andrew’s annual visit to his home,
however, changed his plans. The Bishop
took him aside and told him, that although he
was not aware it, if he carried out his intention
of going to China, it would take his mother’s
life. He was the youngest son, he had special
claims upon her, and he had better abandon the
step. The Bishop then took the matter in hand
himself, and stopped the China movement. LHe
then urged the claims of Texas upon the
brothers, but advised that they wait a few years
before going into that field, evidently thinking
that their mother would not live long.

Shortly after this an urgent call was made for
missionaries to California. After talking the
matter over it was finally arranged that John
and William were to remain in South Carolina,
and Henry and Asbury were to go to California.
Bishop Paine, who had charge of-the work, was
 THE DECISION. 111

 

at once written to, and the offer made. The
brothers were promptly accepted and ordcred
to hold themselves in readiness to start at a
‘given date. ‘They soon had their trunks packed
 trunks by the way of their own manufacture,
and which did good service for years afterwards
 an dl were awaiting the order to move, when a
letter came from the Bishop stating that there
were numerous volunteers for California, and in
the western conferences there was some dissatis-
faction because South Carolina seemed to be
preferred in apportioning missionary work. He
then asked that the two brothers give way
for two western men named in his letter. Of
course they could not do otherwise.

Rev. Leo Rosser, just at this time was on a
tour in South Carolina, raising funds for a church
in Alexandria, Va. He eloquently persuaded
the brothers that Virg:nia was the place where
they were most needed, William and Asbury at
once concluded to enter the Virginia conference.
Once more Bishop Andrew interposed advising
them to join their own Conference and then
transfer to Texas. So after all William and
Asbury applied for and secured recommenda-
tions to the South Carolina conference that was
to meet in Wadesboro, North Carolina, in
December, 1850. A short time before confer-
ence, Dr. T. O. Summers, then editor of the
 112 DR. MOOD.

 

Southern Christian Advocate, invited the two
young men to take tea with him. They had
spent a pleasant hour with Mrs. Summers when
the doctor came in.

‘‘Well,” said he, “boys I am glad to see you,
and am sorry I have been so long detained at
the Advocate office. I have a question to ask
you, and as Billy is the younger I will ask him
first.” |

‘“‘Beg pardon sir,” interrupted William, ‘I am
not the younger.”

“Oh yes, you are.”

‘No sir, Tam not, Asbury is the youngest of
the five sons.”

‘Well, well, I have always understood that
you were the youngest. I suppose I have al-
ways thought so because you were the littlest.
Well Asbury, answer me: are you a goose or a
swan? _

His wifeinterposed: ‘‘“Mr. Summers, I would
not ask these young gentlemen a question like
that.”

‘““Why not?”

‘It sounds to me rude, and you may hurt their
feelings.”

‘‘Hurt their feclings, hurt their feelings,” he
repeated, ‘‘I know wife, who I am talking to,
and they know me. Come, Asbury, answer
me, are you a goose or a swan!”
 THE DECISION. 113

 

Asbury was confused, but finally said: ‘‘I
know, doctor, you are going to give me a box
about my ears on what side it is to hit me I
don’t know; but I don’t know what Iam.”

Then looking at William full in the face, he
asked: ‘‘Billy, are you a goose or a swan?”

Like Asbury, he said, he could not tell.

‘Well now,” said the doctor, ‘‘you have both
been recommended to the South Carolina Con-
ference, and when Bishop Paine calls for appli-
cants for admission, Brother Betts will reply,
‘‘T have two from Charleston District, Wm. W.
Mood, and F. Asbury Mood.” He will tell the
Conference your ages; he'll speak of your
health, of your early piety, of your educational
advantages; he will tell the Conference that
your father was once a member of the Confer-
ence; that your grandmother McFarlane used
annually to make Bishop Asbury’s suit of black
cloth, etc. etc. He'll say a good many things
about you, but remember you are out of doors,
you don’t hear any of it. But some smarty 
for there are always some smarties to be found 
will say, ‘‘Why is that all Brother Betts is go-
ing to say about those Mcod boys? A great
deal more ought to be said,” and he’ll say his
say. Then some other smarty remembers, on  
looking around, that you have not heard all
these nice things, and he’ll slip out and tell you
 es Ain (058

%

114 DR. MOOD.

 

all and you'll listen to him. Then you'll come-
into the Conference room, and throw out your
feathers, and strut, thinking you are swans 
but I tell you, you are only ordinary geese.”

Young preachers, at this time, were not re-
quired to be present on the occasion of their ad-
mission on trial. William Mood attended Con-
ference, Asbury was taken quite ill just before
the time for starting, and he had to remain at
home. ‘Traveling in that day was mostly done
by private conveyance, so it required several
days after Conference adjourned for the news of
its action to reach Charleston. The absent
brother was anxiously watched for. In due
time he returned and joyfully informed Asbury
that their application for membership was favor-
ably considered, and that they were admitted
on trial, and assigned to adjoining circuits,
Asbury to Cypress circuit, and he to Orange-
burgh circuit,

A. day or two after the arrival of the news
from Conference, Bishop Paine arrived in
Charleston, and while there sent word to the
young itinerant to come to see him. He found
the Bishop clothed in all the dignity of his posi-
tion, but kind and sympathetic as a father. ‘I
have sent you to Cypress circuit to be near

your parent;,” said the Bishop. ‘You are the

youngest son, the baby; it pains your mother to
 i

THE DECISION. 115

 

give you up; you must therefore come down
and see her often. Spend your rest days-with
her. If anybody objects to your doing so, tell
them the Bishop required you to do it.” Then »
followed some excellent advice. This was kind
and thoughtful in Bishop Paine. Asbury Mood
was not yet twenty-one years old slight in per-
son, beardless and boyish-looking, and he had
no reason to expect this display of confidence in
his discretion. But if the Bishop did not know
the boy, he knew the mother. He felt that un-
der her supervision and encouragements the son:
could not go far wrong. So he put him near
his mother, not only for this supervision, but
also because he felt, that to a mother who had
furnished four sons to the ministry some con-
cessions should be made to her mother’s heart. a-3/- x
  CHAPTER VIII.

THE CIRCUIT RIDER. CYPRESS CIRCUIT.

The day soon arrived when he must start for
his work. A snug buggy and a claybank horse
had been purchased. He had nothing to do in
the transaction, except pay the bills, for he
knew very little about either a horse or a buggy,
and really did not understand how to hitch the
two together. His oldest brother’s route to his
own circuit lay some twenty-five miles on the
same road that he was to travel. It was there-
fore arranged that they should start together.

The tearful good-byes, and the. parting bene-
dictions of father and mother were soon over,
and with a heavy heart and a heavily loaded
buggy, he turned his back upon the stir and
bustle of Charleston, and was soon amid ~the
silence and sand of the low country. The cheer-
ful conversation of his brother kept up his spir-
its pretty well until late in the evening, when it
began to grow dark. They were expecting to
spend the night at the house of a good Meth-
odist lady, who lived within the bounds of Cy- -
press circuit and whose husband had been one
of the early missionaries to the blacks in South
 118 DR. MOOD.

 

Carolina but they lost their way, so that it was
rather late when they reached the house; here,
however, a bright fire and a hearty welcome
soon dispelled the gloom that had clouded his
spirits. .

He parted with his brother the next morning,
with a heavy heart filled with gloomy forebod-
ings, for he thereby severed the last link to his
home, and sct himself adrift in the life of the
itinerancy. He took an early start, for a long
and lonesome road lay before him; be had forty
miles to go through dismal piney woods. It
was a gloomy winter’s morning, and as he rode
on, greatly depressed by his thoughts, the
solemn moan of the wind through the lofty pine
tree-tops, sounded like the dirge of all his earthly
hopes.

Mr. Benjamin Crook, ‘‘the plan” stated was
class-leader at Ebenezer, the churches on Cypress
circuit had orthodox Scriptural names. His
first appointment was at this church, the next
day at eleven o’clock. Mr. Crook’s house, then,
was the first point to be reached. He knew the
number of miles to this place and he had been
given the directions. But he didnot know how
to correctly measure distances. He had no just
conceptions of miles nor the time consumed in
traversing them. He had not yet learned how
to follow out given directions, and the experi-
 CYPRESS CIRCUIT. 119

 

ence that he and his brother had the night be-
fore, in missing the road and getting astray,
imparted to hima tormenting fear lest he should
turn out of the right road and get dost. He had
not gotten over the childish dread of being lost
in the woods.

About midday he reached a neat farm house
with out-houses, garden and orchard, suggestive
of industry and thrift. As he rode up he saw
standing near the front gate a well-fed and sub-
stantial looking farmer dressed in brown home-
spun. He formally bowed and timidly asked
his way to Ben Crooks. The old gentlemen
squared himself for a good talk, while the
young preacher, in terror lest he should get lost
and not reach his destination before night-fall,
grudged every moment of time, leaning back
the old man commenced very deliberately.

‘‘Ben Crook? there are two Ben Crooks.
Old Ben Crook, he lives right on this road, and
then theres his son, young Ben Crook, he lives
some two or three miles off of the road.”

The old man must be the class-leader thought
Asbury Mood, so he replied:

‘T am hunting old Ben Crook.”

“Oh well you can’t miss it; he lives about
twenty miles beyond here right on the big road,
 you have plenty of time. What’s the news in
the city?”
 120 DR. MOOD.

Rejoiced to know he had come so far on his
days journey, and anxious to complete it, he
hastily replied, ‘‘No news,” and whipping up
his horse he pressed on. Little did he then
know the impression he made on the old farmer,
which, a few months afterwards he found to be
anything but favorable.

‘‘Old Ben Crook’s” was reached in safety and
in good time. There he found a plain, unlet-
tered, but fatherly and pious old man, who with
his wife gave the young preacher 4 hearty wel-
come. He could hardly realize his position. It
was new and strange to him to be no longer
treated as a subordinate, but to have accorded
to him all the courtesy due a minister of the
gospel. After supper the interests of the church
and circuit were gravely discussed, Mr. Mood
feeling deeply his ignorance and inexperience
in such matters.

The next day, in company with the two old
people, he went to Ebenezer Church. It was a
cold, bleak, and dreary winter’s day, but a small
congregation had assembled, and he opened his
itinerant pulpit labors from I Cor., X. 12: ‘‘Let
him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he
fall.” The sermon was delivered under much
embarrassment, and it seemed to him that this
first effort fell on the hearers, as cold as the
winter’s mist that was falling and freezing out-
 CYPRESS CIRCUIT. 121

 

side. As he came out of the pulpit, his heart
full of misgivings, a pleasant faced, square built
man,-came up with a smile, and shaking his
hand warmly, invited the preacher home with
him. They were soon at a snug farm house,.
with a bright fire on the hearth, and warm hearts
to cheer and encourage him. That night at
David Connor’s left an impression in his heart
that was fresh through all his life.

The next day he preached at Shiloh, which he
reached in due time, although he had to cross
Buck’s swamp, where at one place the water was
so deep that it flowed into the foot of his buggy,
and wet the many things that he had stored
away under the seat.

On Sunday he was to preach at a large and
important appointment. It was called Jericho.
He was carefully directed so th: t he reached it
safely and in time. The day was bright and
pleasant, and a full congregation greeted the
new preacher. Here he met his senior, Rev.
John W. Kelly, an old acquaintance and friend of
the family. This fact, with the surrounding
circumstances cheered him very much, so that
he preached with more satisfaction to himself
than he had ever before done.

After preaching at Jericho on that memorable
Sunday morning, he took dinner with one of the
 122 DR. MOOD.

 

brethren, and then went over to Jerusalem where
he preached that afternoon.

On the next day he met Mr. Kelly, and the
stewards at the parsonage, and the arrangements
for the support of the preachers were made.
He, however, was not called to be present at the
meeting, so he loitered around, while this busi-
ness was being completed. In that day the
junior had very little to do with money matters.
If the entire quarterage was collected, then the
junior got his full pay, if not, he shared with the
senior in proportion to their salaries.

No one thdught of suggesting anything in
connection with the junior. His stipend was
fixed by the book of discipline, and there was
an end of it. To tell the truth, Asbury Mood
never gave the matter a thought. The money
was the last factor in his estimate of an itinerant
preacher’s life. To escape the ‘‘woe” that hung
about him, “‘if he preached not the Gospel,”
was what impelled him in the labors of his first
year’s ministry:

It is needless to further pursue the details of
the year’s work. IIe had twenty-five’ appoint-
ments, and it kept him in labors abundant to
meet the demands upon him. |

A memorable event in his life occurred as he
made the first round of his circuit. After filling
one of his appointments, he staid with the class-
 CYPRESS CIRCUIT. 123

 

leader, who was something of a blacksmith.
His friend, while examining his buggy, dis-
covered that the bolt to the singletree was bent.
He proposed to straighten it, and taking it out,
without heating it he hammered it straight,
probably cracking it. The next day, Sunday,
Mr. Mood had filled his morning appointment,
and was on his way to the place where he was
to preach that afternoon. He was closely
wrapped, the weather being cold and rainy, and
he had just left a narrow road, winding among
the pines, and passed into the big ‘‘Old Orange-
burgh Road” when the bolt snapped, and the
singletree fell with a sharp blow against the
heels of his horse. The startled animal dashed
furiously off, jerking the reins from the hands
of the driver and dragging the buggy after him,
to which he was yet fastened by the new and
strong breeching-straps. Rushing wildly on,
he attempted to turn out of the road, when one
of the fore wheels struck a stump, the young
preacher was thrown out headlong, receiving
several cuts and contusions about his face and
body; the vehicle was a complete wreck, and
his books and baggage were scattered all about
him. How miserable and forsaken he felt while
picking himself up from the ground and view-
ing the surroundings. It was a favorable op-
portunity and the Tempter came into his heart
 124 DR. MOOD.

 

and took possession. ‘‘Now,” he whispered to
a doubting heart, ‘‘you ran before you were
sent. God has cut your career short by a sol-
emn warning, so you had better pick up your
pieces, go home, and stay there.”

In the mean time a friend had caught his
horse and come to his assistance. He was helped
to a house near by, kindly cared for for that
night, but the Devil still had possession of him;
so the next morning he went to the nearest rail-
road station and boarded the cars for Charles-
ton. He had been from home only about three
weeks, but it seemed, under his labors, trials
and anxieties, that he had been away for years,
and had grown aged in the work.

Surprised at seeing him, his mother rushed
to meet him, and noticing that he was lame and
bruised, she exclaimed: ‘‘Why, what is the
matter?”

‘The Lord has put a stop to my preaching,”
he said, very solemnly, and then told of the ac-
cident. She and his father reasoned and ad-
vised with him. By their help he became re-
assured. The old saddle bags, with which his
father had just twenty years before traveled the
same circuit, were drawn out from their long
resting place, the mould and dust were carefully
wiped from them, and he was told to take them
and resume work. After spending two or three
 CYPRESS CIRCUIT. 125

 

days at home, and gaining new strength from
the rest and the counsel of his parents, he re-
turned to his labors better prepared than ever
to meet the coming trials of life.

The most harassing feature of his first year’s
labors was the dread and reality of being lost as
he threaded the labyrinthine intricacies of the
‘timber roads” in reaching some of his out-of-
the-way appointments. These are roads used
for hauling logs for the purpose of rafting to
Charleston. They run in every conceivable di-
rection through the piney woods, but an ex-
perienced traveler has but little difficulty in dis-
tinguishing them from the public wagon roads.
The young itinerant, however, was not suffic-
ently versed in the mysteries of traveling, to
discriminate between them. To him a road was
aroad. Neither did he know the freedom of
country life, nor how to approach strangers and
enquire the way. He feared to intrude, and this
_fact was greatly in the way of his comfort, and
also of his usefulness, for this retiring modesty
was thought by the plain country-folk to be the
result of city hauteur.

He did not take kindly to the saddle bags,
so after his mishap he resumed his travels on
his circuit in a borrowed buggy. His next ap-
pointment was Bethlehem Church. In order to
reach it he was directed to go up the state road
 126 DR. MOOD.

 

until he reached a large white dwelling on the
right, then he was to turn to the right and take
the ‘‘plain straight-forward road,” which would
take him to Bethlehem. He started early. He
found the large white house as described, turned
into the road as directed, and followed it for
about a mile, when he found that the plain road
turned short off to the left, while ‘‘straight-for-
ward” was a dim, untraveled road leading into
the woods. He was in a quandary. He stopped
and balanced chances for some time. While
puzzling over this problem of probabilities, he
heard the distant sound of an axe. He alighted,
taking his horse from the buggy he hitched
him carefully, and guided by the sound, he
found a negro splitting rails at some distance in
the woods. Upon asking if the narrow, straight-
forward road was the way to Bethlehem Church,
he received the answer in true negro style and
emphasis: ‘‘Yes sah, you keep dat  straight-
forrud road, and when you git clear out heay,
you will beat about some fences until you come
to a house, and dare dey will give you de rest
of de way.”

He urged his horse forward and ‘‘beat about
fences” all day, until about four o’clock in the
afternoon, when worn out with fatigue, hunger
and anxiety, he came up toa gate before a small
 CYPRESS CIRCUIT. 127

 

log cabin; a young mother with an infant in her
arms stood in the door-way.

‘‘Can you direct me to Bethlehem Church?” he
anxiously inquired.

‘‘Why sir, have youcome all the way out here
to find Bethlehem Church? Sir, you are just on the
edge of Santeeswamp. Then beginning to give
directions she said: ‘‘Go through our yard, and
take that road yonder, about a mile from here
you will cone to a road going that away” mov-
ing her hand to explain the direction, ‘‘and one
goiwwg that away, you must not take them, you
must take the other road going this away.”

He drove through the yard, and at the place
found a labyrinth of roads out of which he could
makenothing. He drove back to the house and
begged the woman to let him take her to the
place where she could point out the road, and
then he would return her to the house. She
would not consent, but with her babe in her
arms she walked ahead of his horse, put him in
the road and directed him to a house where he
could get farther directions. He now urged his
jaded horse on, and at about nine o’clock at
night he found Mr. Warnock’s, the place near
the church to which he had been directed. Mr.
Warnock’s mother, who was known as mother
Warnock, was a celebrity of Methodism in this
section. As soon as the young preacher got
 128 . DR. MOOD.

 

into the house mother Warnock turned loose
upon him in a severe tirade for missing his ap-
pointment. He, however, soon appeased her by
relating his troubles of the day.

On this round he failed to find Railroad
Chapel, and having an appointment for the next
day, he could not stop to hunt it. This gave
him much trouble of mind. On his second
round he made a great and earnest effort to find
this church. He started early and traveled
hard. At about ten o’clock he found himself at
the back of a large farm, and he halloed to a
man he saw working in the field, the man came
to him laughing, and to his surprise he found it
was his host of the previous night. There he
had been traveling hard for several hours to
reach Railroad Chapel, and had returned almost
to the place from which he had started. Mis-
sing this appointment a second time was a source
of added mortification, which was embittered by
several messages conveyed to him from the
neighborhood, to the effect that, ‘‘If he wanted
to find the church he could have found it,” and
that, ‘‘his father always found the churches on
Cypress circuit, and he could do the same thing
if he would try.” He went on suffering keenly,
but learning valuable lessons from his sufferings
and his mistakes.

On his third round he determined to be at
 CYPRESS CIRCUIT. 129

 

fault in no particular. He got directions more
specific than before and carefully mapped them
out on paper. He took a sun-rise start, and
pushed forward with more than ordinary speed,
but soon he was hopelessly entangled in the in-
tricacies of tun-timber roads. He determined
to find a house and get farther directions. He
soon reached a neat dwelling before which was
a negro man at work.

‘“Who lives here?” he asked.

‘‘The widow W .”

‘Is there a gentlemen in the house? ”» know-
ing how women give directions.

‘‘No sir, nobody but the ladies.”

‘Can you direct me to Railroad Chapel? ”

He forthwith began in negro style a long
rambling set of directions, out of which the
young itinerant could make but little. But fol-
lowing the directions as best he could he tried
to pursue the given courses. He urged his horse
to his utmost. He was due at the church at
eleven o’clock. He traveled on until twelve
o’clock, when he suddenly emerged into the ‘‘old
Orangeburgh road,” from which he had turned
out of hours before. Utter despondency seized
him. He turned his horse’s head towards
Charleston. He knew he could find that, and
he wanted to quit his work finally and forever.
But the recollection of the return of a circuit
 130 DR. MOOD.

 

rider several years before from his appointed
work, under similar circumstances, and the im-
pressions made and left by the act, deterred
him.

What was he todo? The question was too
great for the young preacher, and his feelings
got the mastery. Throwing the reins on the
dash-board he buried his face in his hands and
wept bitterly. Absorbed by his trouble, and in

\this attitude of grief he did not hear the ap-
proaching footsteps of a horse. Suddenly near
him, a coarse voice rang out. ‘‘Why Mr. Mood
what is the matter? ” |

Quickly straightening up he replied hastily,
‘Nothing, sir.” There sat on a horse before
him, a tall gaunt looking man, whom he was not
conscious of ever having seen before.

‘Nothing! Why now that | is very remarkable,
that you are here in the high road crying like
your heart would break and tell me nothing is
the matter.”

‘Nothing that you would eppreciate or under-
stand.”

“Oh” said the stranger “I know more about
you than you think. You are Mr. Mood, the
young preacher in the circuit, I heard you
preach over here at Murray’s Church last Sun-
day. Now tell me what is the matter.”

Mr. Mood then explained the whole trouble.
 CYPRESS CIRCUIT. 181

 

After hearing him through, the stranger on
horseback said: ‘*Why, where have you been
traveling all day?”

“Oh, everywhere.”

‘But tell me, whose plantations or houses
have you passed?”

‘‘My dear sir, I do not know oh, yes, I did
stop at the house of a widow W to enquire
the way.”

‘‘Ah ha!” said the old man, laughing uproari-
ously, ‘“‘I understand it all now. You stopped
at the widow’s, had a fine time with the girls;
and now here you are crying fit to break your
heart because you can’t reach your appoint-
ment.”

Mr. Mood began to remonstrate, but he
would not listen. ‘‘Don’t tell me anything
about it,” he persisted. ‘I know you young
Methodist preachers too well. J am not a mem-
ber of the church, but I have been with the
preachers enough to know all about them.”

He then said that he was Major Gavin, and
ceasing his bantering, he offered to guide the
itinerant to his next appointment, which was
kindly done, and when the class-leader’s house
was reached, his tall, gaunt-looking and face-
tious old friend bid him adieu.

It is but fair to the young preacher to say
that he succeeded in reaching Railroad Chapel

 
 182 DR. MOOD.

 

at his fourth trial, by paying a negro a dollar
to take him there, and never missed it after-
wards; and that he not only redeemed himself
in their estimation, but before the close of the
year he had won the hearts of the people.

- On his first round he had made the acquain-
tance of a number of persons who remembered
his father as the circuit rider of twenty years
' before, and who honored the son for the father’s
sake. Among the number was Mr. Fralick, the
class-leader of Jerusalem Church. While he
gave to the young preacher a warm welcome to
his house, he also gave him a long and warning
lecture about the degeneracy of the modern cir-
cuit rider, in traveling in a buggy instead of
going on horseback as did his father. The old
gentleman presented two objections to the bug-
gy: first, he was too far away from the horse’s
head to hear him blow; secondly, having a va-
cant seat beside him he would be always carry-
ing the girls around with him.

The first objection may have been well taken,
for horseflesh no doubt suffered in his anxious
hunt for churches on his first rounds; but he
disappointed the predictions of his old friend
on the second point, for although it was more
than once arranged that he should take a young
lady in his buggy, to or from church, yet he al-
 CYPRESS CIRCUIT. 133

 

ways rendered a sound reason why he would
necessarily be deprived of that pleasure.

His horse and buggy, from the beginning,
were a source of much anxious care. While in
attendance upon one of the churches from which
he proposed to go to Charleston to spend one
of his rest days, he placed corn and hay in the
foot of the buggy and tied the horse to one of
the wheels that he might eat at his leisure. while
the services were being conducted. He ascended
the pulpit and began the sermon. The bugg
and horse chanced to be in full sight of the
preacher, and when he had reached about the
middle of his sermon, the horse having finished
his meal Jaid down to roll. With no thought
save that the buggy would be broken, he cried
in the midst of an unfinished sentence: ‘‘Whoa!”
‘‘Whoa!” and rushed down the steps of the pul-
pit, and out of the church to the horse, declar-
ing afterwards that he never thought of the
ludicrousness of the act until he had reached the
buggy. After securing the animal to a tree
near by, he returned to the church and com-
pleted his discourse.

It was a source of great pleasure and comfort
to hiim, to visit Cypress Church regularly on his
rounds. This chureh stood in the midst of the
camp-ground. It was here that the memorable
camp-meeting of his life was held. He hunted
 134 DR. MOOD.

 

out the old tent where six years before God for
Christ’s sake had removed the burden of his
sins. He reviewed the period passed over, and
renewed his vows to try to live for God, and
through his assisting grace to meet all the claims
of duty which the ministry would impose upon
him. |

Late in the spring he visited his brother Wil-
liam at Orangeburgh, where he made the ac-
quaintance of Rev. William Crook, the senior
preacher on the circuit. This acquaintance with
him and his family afterwards ripened into a
warm and lasting friendship.

In the fall he attended Indian Fields camp-
meeting. On Sunday afternoon he preached the
Missionary sermon. This was a notable occasion
to him, being the first sermon he had attempted
to preach on that subject, and the first time in
his ministry that he was appointed to meet a set
occasion. How well he succeeded, in the lapse
of time had been lost sight of. He did not fail,
and many a time since he has battled earnestly,
valiantly, successfully for this cause that ever
_lay so near his heart, and to which on more than
one occasion he offered his life and labors.

It was at this camp-meeting that he met the
old farmer, of whom he had asked directions to
Ben Crook’s, when on his way to his circuit. He
was about to be introduced to him by Rev. Mr.
 CYPRESS CIRCUIT. 135

 

Kelly, when the old gentleman broke out: ‘‘Oh
I know him, and a nice fine proud city sprig he -
is. He passed my house last winter enquiring
the way to Ben Crooks, and I told him as well
as I could; but when I politely asked him what
was the news in the city he just sung out, ‘‘No
news,” popped his whip and away he went.
Why I knew his father when he preached on
this circuit twenty years ago. If instead of act-
ing that way he had just said, ‘‘my name is
Mood, son of old John Mood, I am the preacher
on the circuit,” I would have been glad to have
given him a hot dinner, but I had no idea he
was a preacher, fixed up as he was, and the way
he treated me. I thought he was a collector for
some big merchant in Charleston, and I was
considerably puzzled to know what in the world
a collector wanted with old Ben Crook.”

It required many protestations to propitiate
the old farmer; however, before the camp-meet-
ing closed, he had to acknowledge that the
young preacher had won him over completely.

The last services held on the circuit were those
of the Cypress camp-meeting. He preached the
last sermon of the meeting, and the next morn-
ing he returned, in his buggy, to Charleston,
on his way to Georgetown, the seat of the an-
nual Conference.

The two great pleasures and encouragements
 136 DR. MOOD.

 

in this year of trial were his sojourn at the
parsonage of the senior preacher at the upper
end of his circuit, and his visits home when he
came down near Charleston. He was at the
beginning of the year, aslave to duty. The
long and fatiguing rides, the trials and annoy-
ances to which his inexperience subjected him,
especially his inability to follow roads, and
therefore his being continually dost, made his
work peculiarly onerous, and his burden of spir-
it was so great that he was depressed nearly all
the time. Yet in passing through these trials
and troubles he learned a great deal. He had
much of the stiffness and formality of his city
life knocked off. He had become acquainted
with country life, and had learned how to adapt
himself to its habits. He had also acquired
some skill in following directions, finding roads
and reaching remote appointments. And above
all, the precepts and examples of the untiring,
devoted and zealous J. W. Kelly had given him
an acquaintance with the duties and labors of
an itinerant preacher’s life, that years of asso-
ciation with some men would have failed to im-
part. His senior preacher of this year’s labors
was ever held in grateful remembrance. ‘This
kindly feeling was mutual, for Mr. Kelly, a few
‘weeks after Dr. Mood’s death thus wrote of
him: ‘‘I was favored with his help as my junior
 CYPRESS CIRCUIT. 137

 

on the great old Cypress circuit, then stretching
over most of the ground from the city up to the
vicinity of Orangeburgh, a circuit of twenty-five
churches; a kind of break-wagon on which to
train the young itinerant. I found him a very
valuable helper. He was bidable, would do as
I wanted him to do, yet was remarkable for in-
dependence of thought and action even then,
and I found it advantageous to consult him upon
the gravest and most delicate interests of the
work. He was utterly unselfish, full of brother-
ly kindness and unremittingly devoted to study
and to pastoral work.”’

His college training enabled him to master
the first year’s course with ease, and then the
constant preaching compelled him to apply his
knowledge as soon as learned, thereby fixing it
practically and deeply in his mind. In after years,
when he had made education a special study,
had looked into the workings of many semin-
aries in the land, and had subjected the various
systems to that severe but unfailing test “‘by
their fruits:” in speaking of his first year’s
ministry he said: ‘To this day I am convinced
that it is the best theological training, for an
active and successful ministry, known to the
church.” @- Ol~ 14
 CHAPTER IX.

(A-ARNWELL CIRCUIT.

With a ndmber of preachers, Rev. F. A.
Mood, and his brother William, embarked in a
steamer for Georgetown. They had a pleasant
trip, and upon their arrival appeared before the
Committee of Examination, who tested their
proficiency in the books of the first year’s
course. _ ms,

His class was a large and intelligent one, and
consisted of John Wesley Miller, Thomas Ray-
ser, Charles O. Lamotte, William E. Boone,
George W. Ivey, Joseph W. Faulkner, Daniel
May, William A. Clark, James T. Kilgo, Will-
iam W. Mood, F. A. Mood, eleven in all. Of
the eleven, who on that December 8, 1851, met
as the class of the first year, three have passed
safely to the other shore; two remain active in
the South Carolina Conference; two transferred
to the North Carolina Conference with the trans-
fer of territory to that Conference; two have
located and one withdrew from the Conference
and the Church. |

The class passed the ordeal and were con-
tinued on trial.
 Pa

BARNWELL CIRCUIT. 139

 

Bishop Andrew presided, and Rev. P. A. M.
Williams was secretary. The Conference pro-
cecded rapidly and pleasantly. The people of
Georgetown were most hospitable in their enter-
tainment of the preachers; and the magnificence
of the dinners, with the frequency and profuse-
ness of the oyster suppers impressed our young
friend deeply, being in such great contrast with
the simplicity of his own home, and the plain
and often rough fare of his circuit life.

‘‘Where will I go next year?” was the great
question that was constantly coming into his
thoughts. He had not yet learned to regard the
impending appointment, which was to close the
Conference and open a new year of labor to him,
with a proper degree of resignation, or even
with a philosophical calmness. The thought of,
for another twelve month, puzzling and perplex-
ing over the mazes of piney woods’ roads, almost

terrified him, and reinvested his heart with

the gloom that had hung about it through the
entire year.

When the appointments were read out, he
found that his fears were groundless. He was
sent to%Barnwell circuit with Rev. Robert W.
Crook as his senior. Rev. J. W. Kelly was
announced as transferred to California. Of the
brothers, Henry was sent to Graniteville, John
 140 DR. MOOD.

 

to Society Hill Mission, and William to Sump-
ter circuit.

His old friend and school fellow, Osgood A.
Darby had entered the itinerant work and he
succeeded William Mood as junior on the
Orangeburg circuit.

As Barnwell and Orangeburg circuits lay in
the same direction from Charleston, these two
friends, Asbury Mood, and Osgood Darby, after
bidding friends adieu started together for their
year’s work. Going some thirty miles the first
day they stopped for the night at a house to
which they had been directed. Darby was a
green city boy, as his companion had been
twelve months before. Riding up to the gate,
it was late dusk, Asbury Mood hallooed in true
country fashion. At this nothing could exceed
the astonishment: and mortification of Darby.
‘Why Asbury,” he exclaimed, ‘‘What are you
about, to act that way?” He would have dis-
mounted and politely rattled at the front gate:
Asbury Mood had done exactly that, to his
mortification, the year before, and had learned
a better way. Darby was greatly relieved when
he saw how cordially they were received. This
was Dr. Darby’s first lesson in practical itiner-
ancy.

Darby was left at Orangeburg, and Asbury
Mood continued his solitary way to Barnwell
 BARNWELL CIRCUIT. 141

 

circuit. He preached to a small company at
Jenning’sChurch. As there were no Methodists
at Barnwell Court House, he was directed to go
to Col. Brown’s for entertainment. This gentle-
man, whom he afterwards discovered was a dea-
con in the Baptist Church, welcomed him most
heartily, and so effectively advertised the ap-
pointment of the new circuit rider, that a good
audience greeted him at the Masonic Hall.

His next Sabbath’s appointment was at Black-
ville, where he was referred to Dr. Fishbarne,
whom he found to be a genial, intelligent, and
cultured Christian gentleman; and here with his
family, for he had three charming daughters,
the young preacher found a pleasant and lasting
friendship. On Sunday morning he preached
with marked liberty and acceptability to his
hearers.

His spirits already were much more cheerful
than they had been the year before. He found
his way to the different churches without diff-
culty. Rev. William Crook, with his lovely
wife and family proved to be devoted, kind and
sympathizing friends. At the upper end of his
circuit by a divergence of a few miles he could
enjoy the singular pleasure of visiting his brother
Henry, at each round. In company with his
brother he spent his rest days, and they were
days of both rest andencouragement. Altogether
 142 DR. MOOD.

 

he found much more pleasure in this work than
in that of the year before.

On this circuit was a commodious building,
erected by ex-Governor James H. Hammond,
who deeded it to the Methodist church, on the
one condition, that regular preaching should be
maintained there for the benefit of his blacks, as
his plantation with a large number of slaves was
near at hand. The governor insisted on the
preachers staying at his house, on their rounds,
where the most lavish hospitality ana kindest
attentions awaited them. Mr. Mood, at first
felt awed by the majestic intellect, and splendid
attainments of this man, he found him so simple
and unassuming in his manners that he wassoon
at ease in his presence, where he was evcr
treated with all the grave consideration of an
equal. Though an irreligious man, he never,
except on one occasion, manifested it in an open
way in the presence of this young preacher.
This was at his first visit. He preached unde~
some embarrassment owing to the presence of

Y Governor Hammond, the fame of whose learn-
ing and eloquence was national. At the close of
the services the governor hastened to the pulpit,
introducing himself he complimented the sermon
and claimed the preacher for his guest. At the
dinner table however, he used a profane expres-
sion. The young preacher was in an awkward
 BARN WELL CIRCUIT. 148

 

position. Here was a great man, a United
States Senator, and he his guest a boy in years
and incomparable in attainments, position, or
reputation; but he was a preacher and would
necessarily be thrown often into the society of
this man who had the reputation of being very
profane. If he allowed this instance to pass un-
reproved he would probably in future be fre-
quently subjected to like mortification. Then
the dignity of the ministry was in his keeping
and must be maintained. Besides this, the force
of his mother’s example and training was upon
him to rebuke wrong, wherever found, without
fear or favor, so he could but meet the emerg-
ency and he, at once, protested against the use
of such language. This was sufficient. The
Governor promptly apologized in the most am-
ple manner, and this was the single occasion of
its occurrence. Indeed at the last visit of that
year, upon the overseer’s using profane language
in Mr. Mood’s presence the Governor promptly
and indignantly silenced him.

During the spring of that year, he attended
the Charleston camp-meeting, memorable as
being the last held the buildings shortly after-
wards being destroyed by fire as well as from
the fact that two of the great lights of the M.
E. Church South; Rev. Dr. Lovick Pierce, and
Rev. Dr. H. B. Bascom, assisted in the services
 144 DR. MOOD.

 

~~  Bishop Capers, Rev. Dr. W. M. Wightman,
Rev. Dr. Whitefoord Smith were also present
and preached. It wasa feast indeed. Dr. Pierce
preached from Colos., 2 ch., 19 vers. ‘‘And not
holding the Head, etc.” Dr. Bascom on Friday
from Matt. 28 ch., 7 ver., ‘He is risen,” and
on £unday from II Cor., 8 ch., 9 ver., ‘“Though
rich, he, etc.” Still with all the eloquence and
ability present not a conversion was reported, a
signal proof that it is not always where the
greatest minds are gathered that the greatest re-
sults follow.

Late in the spring a gracious revival of religion
was developed at Blackville; a Jarge number of
young persons joined the church, professing
conversion. The Sunday-schkool interests here
were greatly quickened and enlarged. During
the fall Mr. Mood attended two camp-meetings

7 where he preached with so much ability that he
was at once marked asa rising young man in
the conference.

In writing of the close of this year’s labors he
relates the following interesting incident:

‘‘My last appointment on the circuit was at
Elizabeth Church, near ex-Governor Ham-
mond’s. He had only a short time previously
lost his son Charles, a promising boy of four-
teen. He and his wife were very sad. On Sun-
day evening, while seated with him and his
 BARN WELL CLRCUIT. 145

 

wife, in his library, he asked me to sing. I got
a hymn book and sang: ‘I would not live
alway.”

‘Getting up from his seat the Governor paced
the floor, and when I ceased singing he stood be-
fore me and looking mein the eye, he said: ‘Mr.
Mood, do you know if Rev. Mr. , had done
his duty to me I would have been a Methodist
preacher to-day.’

‘J was surprised and asked him in what Mr.
 , had neglected his duty?”

Sir, said he, ‘“T was a student at the college
at Columbia. He was the eloquent and admired
pastor of the Methodist Church there. I was
impressed, convicted you would say, by his
ministry. But although I was always present
to hear him, he never spoke to me privately. A

Vv word from him would have decided me. A
camp-meeting came on at Fort Granby, below
Columbia, I determined with my room-mates to

‘ go. They went and were converted and joined
the church. I was taken sick the day before
they started and never got there and it all
passed off from my mind.”

‘I defended the preacher on the ground that
the Governor was then young and spirited, and
the preacher likely hesitated to speak to him
from fear of driving him away from his ministry,

 
 146 DR. MOOD.

 

well knowing how sensitive some young men
are on the subject of religion.

‘Yes, yes,” said he, ‘“Sometimes I am tempted
to believe in predestination, a doctrine I abhor.
I fear it was decreed that I should never be
religious.”

‘IT was deeply moved forgetting entirely the
disparity of years, learning and position between
us, [ began an earnest exhortation to him: ‘‘Oh”
said I, ‘Say not so, there is no decree against
you. God invites. He loves youstill. itis
now a day of salvation.”

Turning suddenly and sternly to me he said:
“Don’t talk that way, sir, tome. Look around
you, sir, see this great plantation; see my
wealth; see the claims of the public upon me
Sir, it is too late. I have no time to give atten-
tion to religious matters. Let us drop the sub-
ject.” a. ore it
 CHAPTER X.

STATION PREACHER.

The Conference for 1852 met at Sumpter.
Rev. F. A. Mood with his three brothers and
Dr. Summers were assigned to the same house.
To this company was added the delightful pres-
ence of his father who came up, late in the ses-
sion to witness the ordination of Asbury and
William to the order of deacons. The session
passed delightfully, the weather was propitious,
the attendance of preachers was full, and perfect
harmony prevailed.

Rev. F. A. Mood, by appointment, preached
on Thursday afternoon. His text was from
II Timothy, 1 ch., 10 ver. The sermon was
peculiarly fitted to his hearers and the occasion; .
and he preached it with much power and effect.
His brethren in the ministry listened with deep
interest to the young probationer, and at once
accorded to him, a high position in their body
as a preacher.

On Sunday he was ordained deacon by Bishop
Capers. The appointments were to be announced
on Tuesday the last day of the session. An
immense audience gathered on this final occasion.  
 148 DR. MOOD.

 

After the usual address the Bishop proceeded
to read the appointments. When he-reached
the town of Sumpter on the list, he paused, 
pushing his spectacles up on his forehead he
looked with his lovely and benevolent smile over
the silent assembly and said:

‘‘Doubtless, my friends, you are curious now to
know whom I have sent you. Well, when you
see him, some of you may exclaim, ‘‘Bishop,
you have sent us a boy.” ‘‘To such I will say,
as Bishop McKendree said years ago to a com-
mittee sent out from Nashville to remonstrate
against the appointment of a young preacher
the Bishop had sent to them. ‘‘Why,” said one
of the committee, ‘‘Bishop you have sent us a
boy!” Said Bishop McKendree, emphatically,
‘Our boys are men!”

Lowering his spectacles and taking up his
paper he read: ‘‘Sumpter Station F. Asbury
Mood.”

The young man was astonished and very much
embarrassed, for many in the audience were
peering about to find out the ‘‘boy” that the
Bishop had pronounced ‘‘a man.”

A handsome little lady in black with a very
pretty daughter near her, had pointed out to her
the new preacher. Taking a good look at him,
she exclaimed, ‘‘He is a boy indeed! What
good can Bishop Capers expect a child like him
 STATION PREACHER. 149

 

to accomplish in this town?” This lady had
known Bishop Capers from his boyhood, he
having studied law in her father’s office, and for
this reason she no doubt felt free to criticize his
action. But we will have occasion to speak of
her hereafter, where it will be seen how much
this appointment affected her subsequent life.

As soon as Conference adjourned, the young
station preacher received a message from the
Bishop, requesting him not to leave Sumpter
with the body of the preachers the next day,
but to come to his room as soon as convenient,
as he wished to talk to him about an important
matter. Accordingly he called the next day
where the Bishop was stopping. Taking him
by the hand and leading him into the parlor,
the Bishop carefully closed the door, and then
proceeded to disclose some astonishing facts.
He said that the church of Sumpter was on the
eve of adeadly and fatal schism. That it was
not in the power of man to avert it. A vener-
able member of the church had been charged
with a flagrant crime, conviction of which might
hang him. This man was one of the pillars of
the church, indeed he was the oldest, wealthiest,
and most influential member of the body. His
near relatives constituted about one-half of the
membership. If tried by the church they had
declared their intention to withdraw their names
 150 DR. MOOD.

from the register. If not tried, another large
portion had declared their intention to with-
draw.

Said the Bishop: ‘‘My son, keep your own
counsel, be careful of what you say, or how you
express opinions. Pray a great deal, and when
the rent occurs, heal the torn edges to the best
of your ability.” Bishop Capers knew some-
thing of the judgment, tact, and piety of this
young man, and with this advice, acting under
the guidance of Providence, as subsequent
events developed, he left Sumpter Station in
charge of F. A. Mood.

The first step was to call the Board of Stew-
ards together to arrange a place of board and
settle other business matters, before going to
Charleston to dispose of his buggy and horse.

At this meeting, called the Thursday following
the adjournment of Conference, the state of
feeling in the church became painfully mani-
fest. Mr.  , the cause of the threatened
schism, a steward, class-leader, trustee, superin-
tendent of the Sunday School, and chorister,
arose and said, ‘‘Brother Mood is already at my
home. It will be pleasant to have him remain
with us. It shall cost the church nothing, and
I place at his disposal my carriage and horses,
and a pony with which to visit his flock in the
country.” Unwilling to have their preacher

 
 STATION PREACHER. 154
domiciled with a man, who was suspected of
crime, another, and another, and another of the
board made substantially the same offer. By
his decision in the case he felt that he would in
a measure be aligned with one faction or the
other. If he left it to the board, which was
aboutequally divided, there might be an unseemly
wrangle without a decision, for each side seemed
jealous of the other in even the smallest matters.
He did the only thing he could do in the prem-
ise; he prayed to God for aid and direction,
and at once light flashed into his mind. When
the last steward had spoken, he arose and
thanked them for there generosity, deploring
his inability to live with them all at once, which
he looked upon as a great misfortune. He then
said that he would remain with Mr. the
first quarter, the second quarter he would spend
with another member, from there he would go
to Col. Lorings, and finally to Mr. Dingles,
which being near the railroad station he could
make a quick retreat, as he thought that by that
time they would prefer his room to his com-
pany.

This suggestion, given with a touch of humor,
solved the problem, and allayed all jealousies.
The board readily arrived at a conclusion and
adjourned with no unpleasant thoughts to brood
over.

 
 152 DR. MOOD.

 

The week following the preacher entered upon
his new, arduous and responsible work. This
proved to be one of the remarkable, as it was
one of the délightful, years of his life. Of
indomitable energy, he was always ready for
every good word and work. Of sound piety,
yet irrepressible in spirits; of quick perceptions;
a close student of books and of men, he at once
arose equal to every demand upon him, and
proved a growing preacher and a model pastor.

Gaining the contidence and affection of Mr.
he induced lim to resign his offices.
This greatly allayed the excitement in the
church. When the next session of court came
on the criminator asked for further time. In
the interval the Bishop had forbidden Mr. Mood
to attempt a church trial until the civil suit was
ended, for by that means he would be put in
possession of all the facts in the case.

During the summer, however, an extraordi-
nary work of grace was developed in the con-
gregation, Beginning with the pupils of the
Sunday School for in this cause he was ever
especially zealous it extended gradually among
the adults, and then to heads of families, until
largely over a hundred professed conversion
and joined the church. In the midst of this
gracious revival of religion, the fall term of
court came on. The counsel for the prosecution

 
 STATION PREACHER. 153

 

asked leave to withdraw the case, this was ac-
cepted -generally as evidence of the falsity of
the charge, and the thunder-cloud which had
threatened to burst suddenly over the church,
causing disruption and disaster, rolled quietly
and peacefully away.

Just previous to the series of meetings inci-
dent to the revival, while visiting at the house
of one his members, he met Mrs. 8S. W. A.
Logan, a small lady, highly cultured and intel-
ligent, having a keen black eye, and a very at-
tractive face. She was the same lady who, on
the day that he was appointed to Sumpter Sta-
tion, had pronounced him ‘‘a boy indeed.” The
young pastor must have impressed her favor-
ably, for the following Sunday morning she was
at the Methodist Church on the front bench,
and the next Sunday, and the next. The pro-
tracted meetings began. She was present. At
the first call for mourners, among the young
persons gathered around the altar was her
beautiful daughter, who at a subsequent meet-
ing professed conversion, and with a number of
others joined the church on the following Sun-
day morning.

On the next day Mrs. Logan, accompanied by
her daughter, called on Mr. Mood. She intro-
duced her daughter as Miss Sue Logan. Ina
private interview she asked him to persuade her
 154 DR. MOOD.

 

daughter to remove her membership from the
Methodist to the Episcopal Church, which was
her own church. This, of course, he could not
do, and he so stated it. Then with tears in her
eyes, she exclaimed, ‘‘Oh, sir, you have got the
light of my eyes in your church. If she does
not come to my church I must go to hers, I
cannot be separated from her.” Against this
step he remonstrated, advising her not to change
her church relationship. But on the Sunday
morning following, Mrs. Logan came forward
to be enrolled as a member of the Methodist
Church, and by that body was received into
full connection.
There is one remarkable incident connected
with this meeting that is worthy of note. A
v Mr. Alston, who was known to be.a skeptic in
religious matters, indulgently brought his two
daughters to the Methodist meeting, the young
ladies being actuated by no higher motive than
that of spectators. A chance expression caught
their attention. They listened further, and
under the power of the preaching and the woo-
ings of the Spirit, both came forward for prayer
and both joyfully professed to have obtained the
pearl of great price. Rejoicing in their new
_ found treasure, they went, at once, to their
father who was seated in the lower part of the
‘church. Against their entreaties, added to the
 STATION PREACHER. 155

 

promptings of his own heart, he could hold out
no longer. Conviction seized him deeply. Pale
and staggering, and supported by a daughter
on each hand, he came to the front of the altar,
and with solemn emphasis exclaimed, ‘‘Reverend
Sir, pray for me. I am the grcatest sinner on the
face of earth!” The congregation was called to
prayer. Many and fervent were the petitions that
‘went up to the Throne of Grace in his behalf. On
the next night he was powerfully converted,
and for the first time during the meeting there
was the noise of rejoicing. He shouted, clapped
his hands, and sang aloud. This conversion
made a great impression upon the town, and
gave a marked impulse to the work, especially
among the middle-aged.

This year the preacher was happy, and his
cup of joy was constantly overflowing. He was
associated with a highly cultured, refined,
wealthy and pious people. His brother William,
who was on the Sumpter circuit, which lay
around the town, was frequently with him,
cheering him by his presence and assisting him
in his protracted labors. He was honored with
large audiences. The class meetings and the
prayer meetings were well attended. And
above all, God had vouchsafed his blessings to
the labors of his hands, and constantly and
graciously, in mercy, visited his heart.
 156 DR. MOOD.

 

His acquaintance with Mrs. Logan, and her
charming and beautiful young daughter, had rip-
ened into a warm friendship. She became a zeal-
ous and devoted Methodist, and at the close of the
year she was induced to attend the annual con-
ference which met at Newberry.

Bishop Paine presided over the Conference.
Mr. Mood passed an approved examination in
the studies of the third year, and was returned
to Sumpter. His brother William, however,
having been two years on the Sumpter circuit,
was sent to Wadesboro.

Another happy year to the preacher was spent
at Sumpter. There was no marked religious
movement, but the church .was in a healthy ~
spiritual condition, all the means of grace being
well attended. During the year the Sunday-
school was greatly enlarged, and a well selected
and valuable library was added to its advan-
tages. An eligible lot near the church was pur-
chased and on it a substantial parsonage was
built and comfortably furnished.

In the fall Mrs. Logan with her daughter Sue,
moved to Columbia, where she expected to
make her future home.

Just before conference Mr. Mood was hastily
summoned to visit his brother William, who
was dangerously sick with typhoid fever. When
he reached the bedside of his brother he found
 STATION PREACHER. 157

 

that the crisis had passed in his favor. With a
brother’s devotion he nursed him back to health.
As soon as his brother was able to travel he took
him to Sumpter, where he preached his last
sermon, from Jer., VIII, 20, ‘‘The harvest is
past, the summer is ended and we are not
saved.”

He left this people, so dear to him, with a
heavy heart, almost borderir g onto despondency.
Here he had been very happy had formed
many special and delightful friendships. But
now, as he had served the limit of his time, he
must sever his associations and seek other fields
of labor. Here is one of the crosses as it is one
of the powers of the Methodist itinerancy. ~~
Could he ever expect to be so pleasantly circum-
stanced again? Ah! that was not the question.
His was to preach the Gospel. This necessity
was laid upon him, and he must goas he is sent.

Conference met in Columbia; Bishop George
F’. Pierce presided. Bishop Capers was present
also sometimes presiding. Rev. F. A. Mood
passed his final examination creditably, and after
a sermon by Bishop Capers from Acts. X-X, 28,
‘‘Take heed therefore unto yourselves and to all
the flock, etc.,” he was solemnly. ordained an
Elder in the Church of God by Bishop Pierce,
and the laying on of the hands of the Elders.

When the appointments were read, F. A.
 158 DR. MOOD.

 

Mood was assigned to Marion Street Church,
Columbia. William Crook, his old friend and
senior on the Barnwell circuit was his presiding
elder, and William A. Gamewell, one of the
weightiest men of the church, was his coadjutor
at the church on Washington Street. Mrs.
Logan and her daughter, connecting themselves
with Marion Street Church, was an added
pleasure to his new work.

While on his annual visit home, just after the
adjournment of Conference, he chanced, in com-
pany with his brother James to be passing Old
Bethel Church; noticing the door was open it
was suggested they go in and again look at the
interior of the old house. While walking
through the aisles, recalling and conversing
about the former days as they were connected
with Old Bethel, a small door was noticed,
which opened into the basement of the lofty pul-
pit. Upon entering this place, they found quite
anumber of books which proved to be the earlier
records of the Methodist Church in Charleston.
Dr. James Mood suggested to his brother that
from these records, and other sources, an inter-
esting narrative of the events connected with
the establishment and progress of the church in
Charleston might be written. As the church
was known to have been established in the face
of opposition; to have out-lived many persecu-
 STATION PREACHER. 159

 

tions, and to have survived two great schisms it
was clear that the narrative need not be confined
to the bare register of statistical facts. Dr.
James Mood then urged his brother to under-
take the preparation of this narrative.

He secured the consent of the trustees to re-
move the books to Columbia, and there com-
menced the work in a series of articles written
to the Southern Christean Advocate. This series
continued through most-of the year. Subse-
quently the book editor, Dr. T. O. Summers,
asked the author to revise the letters and arrange
them in chapters, so that the work might be
printed in a book for one of the Sunday-school
serics. This book, called Methodism in Charles-
ton, is a valuable contribution to the history of
the Church. It shows great care, painstaking,
and research. Commencing with the visits of
John and Charles Wesley to Charleston in the
summer of 1736, it gives a succinct and circum-
stantial history of the introduction and progress
of Methodism in that city down to 1856, and
tells much of the trials, the methods, the labors,
the persecutions, and the necessary economies of
the early Methodists.

This little book was not without its fruits.
There was quite a spirit of historical inquiry
awakened by the letters. At the following
annual conference, which met at Marion, the
 160 DR. MOOD.

 

author drew up a paper inviting the members of
the conference to unite in a Historical Society.
Most of the preachers presented their names for
membership, the society was organized, and has
been from that day an active institution of the
South Carolina Conference.

Mr. Mood was returned to Marion Strect
Church, Columbia. This year was accompanied
by nothing remarkable. Large congregations
attended upon his preaching, and the spiritual
state of the church was good.

The hard. work and excessive study that he
had undergone for some years began to tell on
him. During his first year in Columbia it was
noticed that his health was failing somewhat,
and in this second year, 1856, it became very
poor. The malady developed into dyspepsia,
and towards the close of the year he grew so
feeble and emaciated as scarcely to be able to
stand. The physicians urged upon him the
absolute necessity of resting, at least a year,
from the active ministry. Upon communicating
this fact to Bishop Andrew, who was to preside
at the ensuing session of the conference, he was
pressed by the Bishop to follow the advice of
the physicians, and spend the year in traveling
abroad. Accordingly he began to make prepa-
rations for visiting Europe, as he intended to
 STATION PREACHER. 161

 

 

spend the following year in seeing many of the
countries of the Old World.

The conference granted him a supernumerary
relation with permission to travel, and Bishop
Andrew gave him a letter setting forth the facts
and commending him to the kindness and fellow-
ship of the brethren abroad. The money laid
by while teaching the colored school, and which
he had loaned to his father, to assist him in
purchasing a home, his father was able to re-
turn, the new location having greatly improved
his business and general comfort. This sum
amounted to one thousand dollars, and he felt
sure that by judicious economy it would enable
him to spend a pleasant and profitable year in
European travel.

The partings with his loved ones before enter-
ing upon this long journey, and protracted ab.
sence, were tender and affecting; but that with
his mother was peculiarly touching, because she
insisted, in spite of all remonstrance, often em-
bracing her son and hanging upon his neck,
that she would never see him again on earth.
How prophetic did her words prove to be; for
among the first letters received from America
was one announcing her triumphant departure
from the sorrows and toils of earth to the joys
of the Christian Heaven. 9+ &!>!
 CHAPTER XI.

TRAVELS IN EUROPE.

Of the year’s travels, Dr. Mood left abundant
records. He kept up a regular correspondence
with two of the leading papers in South Caro-
lina, and furnished them with such a number of
long, readable letters, that if collected together
they would form no mean volume. He saw
what was to be seen, and knew how to tell it.
He was a close observer and drew remarkably
accurate conclusions from his observations.

These letters are necessarily hurried sketches,
yet they are full of instruction and sparkle with
interest.

It is not our purpose to do more than follow
him afar off in these travels, and briefly jot down
an impression, an opinion, or an incident as
may be culled here or there from the records
left of his journeyings.

A bitter, cold morning, early in December,
he clambered up the side of the packet, Emily
St. Pierre, bound for Liverpool. After a brief
attack of sea sickness, his health began to
improve, and from the fourth day of that
voyage he never again knew the sufferings of
 TRAVELS IN HUROPE. 163

 

dyspepsia. The passage was rough and wintry,
though uneventful. He landed in Liverpool
Saturday night, January 10, 1857. Early the
next morning we see him seeking a Methodist
Chapel ‘‘For somehow or other,” says he, ‘‘I
like for my first hours abroad to be spent there;
I wonder if it is bigotry?”

While in Liverpool he fraternized with the
Wesleyans, formed acquaintances among them
that ripened into life-long friendships, met with
them in social worship, and preached for them.
Leaving Liverpool, he visited in succession
Leeds, Bristol and London. In this great
metropolis, he writes: ‘‘The place of most in-
terest to a Methodist preacher is City Road
Chapel. This house was built by John Wesley
and recommended by him as the model building
for Wesleyan Chapels throughout the kingdom.
Near it was the ‘Old Foundry” at which Mr.
Wesley began his operations in London, and
when, by the expiration of the lease, he could
hold that no longer, he laid the foundation of
this house in a building adjoining, which he
made his home, as far as he had a home, and in
which he died. The room where he breathed
his last has been kept unchanged in its arrange-
ment and furniture since his death. His tomb
is Just back of the chapel, where lie also the
remains of Dr. Adam Clarke the commentator,
 164 DR. MOOD.

 

and Dr. Richard Watson, the theologian of
Methodism.” |

Of the Wesleyans he says: ‘‘An acquaintance
thus far, with their ministers has impressed me
most favorably. They seem to be a grave but
cheerful and pious set of men. They always
conclude their visits among the families where
they go, after the Wesleyan rule; that is with
prayer. They commonly in their conversation
introduce religious topics, which throws a de-
lightful odor of sanctity around their social
intercourse. They appear to cultivate learning,
and their libraries, that I have seen, are filled
with the most solid and massive literature.”

Of one piece of their church furniture he re-
marks: ‘I do not know what our preachers
who have such a horror of tall pulpits would do
over here. The height of Old Trinity, or Bethel
pulpit in Charleston diminishes before these.
The galleries, to an American eye, appear very
high; yet the preacher stands almost, if not
quite upon a level with the front seat of the
gallery. Interested and affected as I was,under
the first discourse that I heard, I voluntarily
measured the height of the preacher from the
floor when he exclaimed, ‘They build too low,
who build beneath the skies, ”

After spending some three months in England
-he set sail for France. His introduction proper
 TRAVELS IN EUROPE. 165
to Paris was on Sunday morning, and he thus
speaks of the scenes that met his gaze while
hunting for a house of worship:

‘‘The whole city was out before me, the shops
were in their gayest dress, and so were all the
people, some riding, some walking, and all ap-
parently happy. Pressing through the crowd
and turning into the Champs Elyssees, a bewild-
ering scene of gayety, thoughtlessness and
beauty met my gaze. The Tuileries, its beauti-
ful avenues and spacious gardens, the Place la
Concorde with its statues, obelisk and fountains,
and then the long avenue of Elysian fields end-
ing in the splendid triumphal arch, were all
before me. And promenading, riding, and
dancing and playing in every direction were
thousands of men, women and children. Soldiers
were marching, bands were playing, balloons
going up, while all seemed as gay and happy
as thoughtless hearts and splendid earthly
scenes could make them. I cannot say whether
surprise, grief or alarm was uppermost in this
walk. Surprise at the splendor and beauty of
the scene, grief at the entire forgetfulness of
God, or alarm for the future of a nation which
so universally ignored the Sabbath. But the
place of worship was reached, and though it
proved not to bea Methodist Chapel the services
 166 DR. MOOD.

 

both morning and night were of gracious influ-
ence to me. .

‘‘Harly the next week I sallied out determined
if there was a Methodist in Paris I would find
him. What was my surprise in stepping out on
the street to sce immediately opposite, over a
chapel door, in large letters, Wesleyan Chapel.
I cannot imagine how it had missed my gaze
before. But language fails to describe the
blessedness, the sweetness and sacredness of the
following Sabbath to my heart. The day before,
intelligence had reached me of the saddest be-
reavement I had ever felt, and in the wonderful
goodness of God, the whole service was exactly
adapted to one in distress. It is a large chapel
and was crowded; a handsome, intelligent young
man was in the pulpit, who, after reading the
Litany and other prayers, announced the text,
‘‘For I reckon that the sufferings of this present
time are not worthy to be compared with the
glory that shall be revealed in us.” It was a
plain, earnest, heart consoling discourse, and at
the close, all members of orthodox churches were
" invited to unite in thesacrament. After service
I presented a letter of introduction to Rev. Mr.
Cook, kindly given to me in England, by whom
I was introduced to Mr. Greeves, the minister
who had preached, and Rev. James Hocart, the
preacher in charge, in Paris. I would look back
 TRAVELS IN EUROPE. 167

 

with pleasure always to my trip, if it were only
to recall the inspiring feelings that passed over
me when my hand was cordially grasped by
these self-denying Methodist preachers of Paris.

‘You will preach for us to-night, won’t you?”

“Oh yes, ‘Labor is rest,’ sometimes.”

“Ab! that is from Wesley.”

At night the chapel was again filled, I suited
my text to my own feelings, thinking it would
suit others. My heart was full full of sadness for
a dear one lost full of gratitude for God’s love.
God’s Spirit was with us. My tears flowed 
our tears flowed; yes, in the very heart of wicked
Paris, we sat ‘‘together in heavenly places in
Christ Jesus.” At the close of services regular
appointments were arranged for me during my
stay, and I felt at home again, for I was once
more a circuit preacher.”

After some two months spent in Paris, he was
borne by railroads, steamers and delzgence,  in
company with a gentleman and two ladies,
Americans, whom he had met in the French
metropolis, through France, over the Medi-

_terraneap into the heart of Italy, on to the
Ceternalfeity. He was peculiarly fortunate in
meeting with these Americans, whose delightful
companionship added a decided interest and
pleasure to the tour, and effectually robbed it of
 168 DR. MOOD.

 

that ennuz or irksomness, so apt to attend a
solitary traveler in foreign countries.

A beautiful incident of the last night’s sail on
the Mediterranean is related by one of this
‘party. The full orbed moon rose over the
waters of this bluest sea on earth, just after they
had passed Ostia, at the mouth of the Tiber,
where with a glass, in the dying sunlight, they
caught a glimpse of St. Peter’s Dome. The
weather was soft and balmy. All had collected
on deck. Two trained vocalists were among
the passengers. They seemed. to be very gay
and frivolous. One, an Italian, sprang to his
feet and sang some dramatic airs with much
gusto; the Frenchman followed in the same
spirit with some national melodies. Then all
called upon the Americans for an American
song. His companions looked to him and said,
‘“Mr. Mood is our singer,” pressing him to re-
spond to the challenge. He sat quiet, not
answering a word, and seemed to be in silent
prayer. After a few moments he folded his
arms, and looking upwards commenced singing,
 ‘‘T would not live alway.” The effect was
electrical. One was melted to tears; all were
deeply moyed, and each one finally slipped away
to his beth without wishing the usual good
night. The wonderful impression made that
beautiful night by the sweet singer of sacred
 TRAVELS IN EUROPE. 169

 

 

song could never be forgotten. It really seemed
that the presence of the Holy Spirit was there.
After visiting Naples, clambering up the rocky
sides of Vesuvius, and going down into the exca-
vations of Pompeii and Herculaneum he reached
Rome just in time to witness the illumination of
St. Peter’s. This was but the beginning of
shows, pageants and processions, which he wit-
nessed while there. Everything bespeaks
papacy. He says: ‘The cross that should be
the glory and elevating influence to redeem the
land, is really the badge of its servitude and
helpless dependence. Three hundred and seventy
churches are to be seen in Rome. The meanest
of them surpass in splendor and costliness, the
finest of American houses of worship. The
cross is not only seen towering above their sum-
mits, but above the custom houses, the barracks
and the forts, above every portal leading into
the city, and with anamolous appearance above
every ruin and heathen temple in and near the
city; though this cross towers at every point,
and shrines to the Virgin confront you at every
corner, the hallowing influence of religion seems
not to be known. The Holy Father is despised
for his pretensions, and ten thousand French
bayonets are required to stand as a cordon of
safety, to support his throne; the Sabbath is
a day of frolic, and profanity, idleness und
 170 DR. MOOD.

 

beggary are so rife as to appal the stranger.”

In speaking of the idolatry that he witnessed
in this city, he says: ‘‘This worship of brass,
and wood, and stone, and bones, is most pain-
fully evident in St. Peter’s Church, the very
heart and centre of Romanism. The bronze
statue of Jupiter Capitolinus which is seated
there, and called St. Peter, has ever before it an
adoring multitude. The toe is worn away from
the constant pressure of lips to which it is sub-
jected. Last Sabbath afternoon we spent more
than an hour before the statue, watching its
worship. Priests in robes of scarlet, purple,
white and black, in passing, bowed and knelt
towards it, and then, with cold dignity, pressed
their lips and foreheads to the bronze. Old
men, tottering with age, bent their knees, and
after its adoration, with palsied hands embraced
it, and then they kissed it. Old women clutched
it eagerly after a hasty adulation, as though
eagerly embracing a long-lost child, or friend,
and where we sat we could hear the eager kisses
repeated a score of times. Often these old eager
* souls were so enraptured in their embrace of the
cold brass as to detain the waiting crowd, who
angrily pushed them away, in order to more
quickly have their turn. Simpering young
maidens in silks and satins, after carefully rub-
bing and polishing the brass with their linen
 TRAVELS IN EUROPE. 171

 

cambric handkerchiefs, to take away what
might be unpalatable to their lips, touched the
bronze lightly with fastidious mouths, and then
lightly tripped away. Matrons, all gay in
Italian costume, with haughty self-possession,
kne.t before it, and with impatience waited on
the sluggard crowd, who pressed toward the
statue; and nurses brought the children, who
often resisted the command to kiss the foot,
while others, with innocent looks, with tiny
hands embraced and kissed it.”

After spending something more than a month
in Rome, he went with his friends, by dzlzgence,
to Florence, thence by rail to Venice, and on to
Milan, across Switzerland to Heidelberg, down
the Rhine to Cologne. From Cologne he went.
by rail to Bremen, and there embarked in a
steamer and crossed the tempestuous waters of
the North Sea to England.

Another week was spent in London, and on
this last Sabbath he went to Surry Gardens to
hear the far-famed Spurgeon preach. A few
days after, he pushed over to Liverpool, where
he engaged passage to the city of New York.
Upon reaching Liverpool he found the Wesleyan
Conference in session. None are admitted to
their deliberations, except by tickets from the
president. A Mr. Harvard, who had been the
traveling companion of Dr. Coke- an aged and
 1% DR. MOOD.

 

lonely christian, insisted on asking for a ticket
for Mr. Mood’s admission. The president, how-
ever, not feeling authorized to issue a ticket by
virtue of his own authority, submitted the mat-
ter to a vote of the conference. It was voted
down almost unanimously. The only reason
given for this act was that Mr. Mood belonged
to a conference in a slave state. Such was the
extreme to which fanaticism drove these good
men. He had never owned a slave and his
church had never been formally committed to
slavery, but was only subservient to state
authority. So, although he was an intelligent,
amiable, christian, minister, the misfortune of
having been born in South Carolina, where
slavery was a political institution, sufficed to
vote him unworthy of recognition by a Wesleyan
annual conference. The Wesleyans considered
this occurrence as a precious morsel, and
flaunted it to the English public as a proof of
their orthodoxy on the question of slavery. The
newspapers took it up, and during the few days
that he remained in Liverpool he was sought
out and rather lionized by some of the best
citizens. .

In twelve days after setting sail for America,
he landed in New York. There he was met by
his father, who came thus far to welcome him,
and bear him company home.
 TRAVELS [IN HUROPE. 173

 

Only a few years before his death, when
speaking of this European tour, he said:

‘‘While traveling I found a thousand prejudices -

and bigotries of a national and social and relig-
ious character melting away. Some of them
were quite dear to me, but I endeavored in vain
to maintain them they passed away and I have
never been able to reinstate them. This tour,
too, has been a life-long pleasure. It has im-
_ planted an interest of a personal nature, .in the
authors, soldiers and statesmen of the countries
I visited, and in the countries themselves.” This
has given a zest to my reading, and an interest



in the human family at large, I would never

otherwise have experienced.”

 CHAPTER XIL
GREENVILLE STATION.
Tile Annual Cpnference of 1857 met at Char-
lotte, North Carolina, this town then being
within the bounds of the South Carolina Con-
ference. Bishop Paine presided. Rev. P. A.
M. Williams was elected Secretary, and Rev. F.
A. Mood was chosen as his assistant. Mr.
Mood was stationed this year at Greenville.
This is a beautiful town in the north-west part
of South Carolina, and is the seat of Furman
University, Southern Baptist Theological Sem-
inary, and also of a female college under the
patronage of that church. But here, Methodism
was very weak, the membership of the church,
at that time, numbered between thirty and forty,
only five or six of whom were adult male mem-
bers. The church building—that index of life,
and spiritual condition was small and dilapi-
dated. The people, the year before had not so
much as paid the board of the pastor who served
them. The out-look for the Methodist preacher
was anything but favorable. The stewards, at
the first meeting of the Board were very low-
spirited, and offered but little encouragement;GRHEN VILLE STATION. 1%

 

but Mr. Mood was full of hope and full of
energy. He was fresh from his travels. He
had learned much and he was anxious to apply
his knowledge. He entered earnestly and vig-
orously upon his work. His sermons were fresh,
warm, and spiritual. Early in April, it pleased
God, in a very gracious manner, to visit the
little church. The meetings resulted in a power-
ful revival, during which the membership was
more than doubled, and the spirituality of the
church greatly quickened. From this time, all
went well, the little church was crowded every
Sunday, and the members seemed to advance
from ‘‘strength to strength in union.” Thus
passed away another year of hard study and
abundant labors.

Conference convened in Charleston, and
Bishop Andrew presided. Rev. P. A. M. Wil-
liams asked to be released from further duty as
secretary, in which office he had so long and
faithfully served his Conference, and Francis
Asbury Mood was elected to this honorable
position. F. M. Kennedy and O. A. Darby
were appointed assistants. For ten years suc-
cessively, with great satisfaction to the church,
they held these positions. Toiling together labor-
iously they cemented a friendship that was never
afterwards jarred.

Rev. F. A. Mood made a good secretary. He
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was a success at anything that required labor-
ious painstaking. At the close of the session he
had the satisfaction of receiving from Bishop
Andrew, warm commendations and congratula-
tions, as being ‘‘A fine secretary.”

He was reappointed to Greenville Station, and
the conference slow of heart to believe in the
great improvement of the church affairs at
Greenville, by a small majority, determined to
hold their following session at that point.

He at once returned to Greenville and made
arrangements for his living as a married man,
and then hurried down to Columbia where on
December 28th, 1858, he was married to Miss
Sue Logan. So, after an intimate acquaintance
of nearly four years, he claimed as his own this
fond love of his life. Theirs was a perennial
love. She proved to be a woman of nerve,
energy and wonderful resources, ever equal to
the many trials of war, fire, and the poverty
which followed in their wake through which
in a few years they were called to pass. She
stood by him strengthening him through it all,
so that when he had reached the highest point
of his life,  when his great work, the founding
of South-western University was an accom-
plished fact, and he could look back upon the
past, as upon a toilsome, rugged road, safely
ascended in one of the closing pages of an

 

oo
 GREENVILLE STATION.	177
address, written to his children, he says: “Should
the University grow hereafter to the dimensions,
and attain the importance, that some of its
friends confidently predict, and should you live
to see your mamma and papa laid away in the
grave, I wish you to say to the Directors of this
great interest, that I here put on record the
opinion that the alumni and friends of South-
western University should erect a monument
over your dear mamma as the real founder of
the institution. It is she that has borne the bur-
den and heat of the day,—who has had to plan
day and night so that our limited means should
make us appear before the public with proper
respectability, and who by a thousand little
methods, known only to a devoted wife and lov-
ing mother, has sustained and encouraged papa
while he has ministered to your pleasure and
comfort. How little did I anticipate in wedding
my little blue-eyed Sue, how much of heroism,
of patient toil, of wise administration, and of
pious devotion would, in her, he thrown around
my housed’
The year following was one of great happi-
ness. His ministerial labors were abundant in
fruits. Through these years his - pen was not
idle, for he was a regular contributor to more
than one literary journal.
The conference was to meet at Greenville, so178 DR. MOOD.

 

 

he exerted himself for their entertainment. He
found that the citizens of all classes and denom-
inations were generous in their hospitality, and
the preachers and visitors were handsomely
cared for. |

The opinion of the Baptist brethren, was ex-
pressed on the third day of the session by one
of their deacons who said to Mr. Mood: ‘‘Parson,

wv” your stock has gone up to par.” But on Mon:
day, after the preaching, ordination, and other
services of Sunday, the same brother came for-
ward and said: ‘‘Parson, your stock has gone
up a leetle above par.” By which he must have
meant that his church was beaten a ‘“‘leet/e” in
some things.

Bishop John Early presided, with his usual
independence, and at the close of the session
secured a compliment to Mr. Mood by insisting
upon the insertion of the name of the secretary,
along with his, in the resolution of thanks that
was passed complimentary to himself.

To his great astonishment, when the appoint-
ments were announced, Rev. F. A. Mood was.
read out as Presiding Elder on the Lincolnton
District, which included within its bounds most
of the territory of the South Carolina Conference
situated in North Carolina.
 CHAPTER XIII.

PRESIDING ELDER.
Lincolnton and Orangeburgh Districts.

His appointment as presiding elder of Lincoln-
ton district was a great cross to him. It was
his desire, expressed to his presiding elder, to
be sent on the negro missions around Bloom
Hill Mrs. Logan’s homestead or any work
convenient to that point, so that his wife might
remain with her mother, who was extremely ill,
until after her death, which all thought to be
pending. For some reason this request was not
considered and he was sent to the farthest limits
of his conference the parsonage at Shelby be-
ing forty miles from Charlotte, the nearest rail-
road point.

But at the beginning of his ministry he had
resolved never to refuse or hesitate to perform
any service laid on him by the church. He con-
sulted with the Bishop, and was told by him to
live in Charlotte, and to inform the stewards
that it was by Bishop Early’s direction and re-
quest that he did so. ‘This settled the matter.
He hastened down to Bloom Hill, as soon as his
duties, as conference secretary would allow, and
 180 DR. MOOD.

 

found Mrs. Logan much better. He at once
went to North Carolina to make his arrange-
ments for entering upon his new duties as well
as for the removal to his new home. After near
a month’s absence, he returned to Bloom Hill
and had the joy of welcoming his first born son.
The child was baptized on the 24th of January °
1860, and on that occasion was named Francis
Asbury.

The work of Lincolnton district was extensive.
There were thirteen charges to be visited on
-each round. Camp meetings were numerous.
From May until November the Quarterly Con-
ferences were held at these meetings. The pre-
siding elder, therefore, lived in the woods most
of the year, and indeed closed his labors on the
district at a camp-meeting, in the midst of a
snow storm.

In his reminiscences of this year’s labors he
says: 

‘“‘My association with the preachers was de-
lightful. The industrious John Finger, the
diminutive Daniel Ogburn, impulsive Osgood
A. Chrietzberg, the holy and conscientious John
Wesley Miller, the independent William W.
Jones, zealous Daniel May, the earnest Abram
P. Avant, the modest and timid Wesley W.
Graham, the venerable John Watts, the lively
and cheerful William H. Hemingway, the face-
 PRESIDING ELDER. 181

 

tious, tender-hearted Scotchman Allan McCor-
quodale, the ardent Louis A. Johnson and the
steady-going EK. A. Price constituted my staff of
preachers.” “#, = &

Rev. Henry Mood was at this time President
of the Davenport Female College, in the upper
part of the district, so that he had the great
pleasure of frequent associations with this
brother during the year.

His labors on his first district were not grati-
fying to him. He was under a great strain, for
he constantly felt that he had not the strength
of body or lungs to meet the physical demands
of the case. The mountaineers expected forci-
ble preaching, in the physical sense, and they
were not easily satisfied with any other kind.
His predecessor was Rev. J. W. Kelly, who had
returned from California and re-entered his old
conference. He was six feet four inches tall,
large in proportion, and possessed a voice of
immense compass. Coming as the successor of
such a man he was viewed somewhat askance,

at first, by his new people. One good sister

jocularly exclaimed, when introduced to Mr.
Mood, after looking down upon him with rather
a significant glance, ‘‘Well, I reckon presiding
elder timber is getting scarce in the South Caro-
lma Conference surely.” He however filled
all his appointments, met every Quarterly Con-

y
 182 DR. MOOD.

 

ference, and closed his year not as one without
much fruits.

The fall of this year was marked by the great
political excitement that culminated in the late
civil war. After Mr. Lincoln was declared
elected, and the state convention was called;
when the question of secession was placed be-
fore the people, Mr. Mood, as a faithful son of
the Palmetto state went all the way to Charles-
ton where he was recognized as a citizen and
where he cast his ballot for secession.

Conference met in Columbia, December 13,
1860, under the presidency of Bishop Paine.
Being a presiding elder, he was a member of
the Bishop’s cabinet; and as it was his first ex-
perience in this body, he observed very closely.
He left the following account of his impressions
and the methods of working in the cabinet.

‘‘The Bishop was agreeable, cheerful, kind,
and thoughtful; exhibiting the greatest care and
anxiety for the preachers and their familics as
well as for the interests of the work. After
prayer at our first meeting, he gave us a brief
address, telling us that each had been put in
charge of a district, for its careful supervision.
He expected therefore that each one of us would
be watchful for the best interests of his own
district, an exhortation I subsequently dis-
covered the Bishop nced not have given. He
 PRESIDING ELDER. 183

 

went on to say, that in every conference there
were three classes of preachers; first, a small
number who from their eminent talents ands~
popular ministry everybody wanted. These,
said he, are difficult to station. Then there is a
second class, a small number, who from their
sloth, inability and inefficiency, nobody wanted.
These are very difficult to station, and they are
known in our councils as ‘‘wet-logs.” Then
there is a large third-class, who are faithful,
reliable, industrious, and successful; these every-
body is willing to receive, and they are easily
stationed.

I soon discovered that some of these grave
presiding elders around me, were grave tacti-
cians. The Bishop’s staff that year consisted of
William P. Mouzon, James Stacy, A. M.
Chrietzberg, W. A. Gamewell, W. A. McSwain,
S. H. Browne, H. A. C. Walker and myself.
James Stacy and A. M. Chrietzberg were emi-
nently the tacticians of the staff. Brother Stacy
declaimed against our having our strongest men
in our colleges and dwelt upon the great im-
portance of certain portions of his work, and
after detaining us by long pleadings, nominated
Dr. Whitefoord Smith, then professor in Wofford
College, for some little circuit on his district.
Of course none of us would listen to it. He
reluctantly receded and made another similar
 184 DR. MOOD.

nomination, and so on, until worn out with the
delay, we unanimously yielded to a nomination
that under other circumstances we would not
have listened to.

Brother Chrietzberg, seemingly, wanted to
man his district on the strength of Georgetown,
his principal station. He dolorously, and at
great length, urged the claims of Georgetown,
as singularly peculiar and important delayed
and declaimed, but when urged to nominate,
postponed it for the present, and nominated
some one for some part of his district, to which
we gladly assented, in order to make progress.
After our second or third session, at which these
supposed tactics were continued, I arose, ex-
pressed my suspicions to the Bishop, and called
on him.to spike Brother Chrietzberg’s gun by
manning Georgetown forthwith; and Brother
Stacy’s by forbidding the farther discussion of
the great importance of his district. The good
Bishop laughed heartily and exclaimed: ‘‘You
are finding them out, are you?”

“Could I have foreseen what would take
place subsequently, I likely would have been
more patient with Brother Stacy, and, without
dissent allowed him to man his district as he
chose, for when the appointments were an-
nounced, I was transferred to the Orangeburgh
district as his successor.
 PRESIDING ELDER. 185

“The Bishop was accustomed, after we had
toiled awhile, successfully arranging the appoint-
ments, to get up, walk to the fire, rub his hands
in a cheerful way and say, ‘‘Come now brethren,
let us all lay hold and lift a wet log.” Then he
would announce some poor fellow’s name that
‘nobody wanted.” When we differed long and
decidedly the Bishop put the case to a vote, and
the preacher’ destiny was fixed by the majority
of voices, the Bishop confirming this opinion.”

Immediately after conference he moved to
Orangeburgh. The actual labor proved to be
less than that of the preceding year; and as
nearly all of the appointments were reached by
railroad, the work was much more pleasant.

Nothing worthy of special mention occurred
in connection with the church interests, during
the year. The association with the preachers
was delightful, indeed he felt this to be the
redeeming feature of the responsible and labor-
ious Office of presiding elder. |

How well Rev. James Stacy succeeded asa
tactician will be recognized by any who might
have been familiar with the membership of the
South Carolina Conference, at that time, for A.
B. Stevens, R. B. Tarrant, D. W. Seale, C.
McLeod, A. H. Wells, G. W. Moore, J. L.
Dixon, W. Hutto, W. G. Conner, E. A. Pierce,
W. W. Graham, E. F. Thwing, M. A. Me
 186 | DR. MOOD.

Kibben, E. J. Pennington and J. B. Massebean
manned the district. He for the first time had
occasion to inspect, personally, the plan of
operations adopted by the Methodist Episcopal
Church South, in connection with the negro
missions; and he expressed the opinion that,
‘‘The missionaries had a leroic task to perform,
and they are indeed the servants of servants, for
Christ’s sake.”

Early in this year the dogs of war were let
loose, and their rapacious jaws were not to be
satisfied until the material wealth of this fair
and prosperous land, together with the flower of -
southern chivalry should be devoured or wan-
tonly destroyed.

Despite the excited political condition the
regular work of the church was kept up, and
even the camp-meetings were held as usual. The
North, warned as they were that an attempt to
reinforce Fort Sumpter must result in war, per-
sisted in the enterprise, and the bombardment
and capture of the Fort was the result. Mr.
Mood was present at this opening event. He
was awakened about daylight on that memora-
ble day that ushered in actual hostilities, by one
of his servants who came to his room and told
him that he thought fighting had commenced in
Charleston as he had heard something like
thunder since about four o’clock. He thereupon
 PRESIDING ELDER. 187

 

boarded the first train for the city. Upon
reaching the depot, a certain stillness, broken
only by a roar like distant thunder,. told the
portentous events that were passing. He found
the stores closed and the streets deserted.
Hurrying down to the sea front of the city,
known as the Battery and White Point Garden,
from whence the grim fortress, and the circle of
attacking batteries could be seen, he there found
the population gathered, and the wharves and
shipping in the harbor, and every cupola and
steeple in the city were crowded with anxious
spectators of the great drama. In solemn silence
the multitude looked on. The curling white
smoke hung above the angry pieces of friend
and foe, and the jarring boom rolled at regular
intervals on the anxious ear. The atmosphere
was charged with the smell of villainous salt-
petre, and, asif in sympathy with the melancholy
scene the sky was covered with heavy clouds
and everything wore a sombre aspect.

‘“T shall never forget,” he says, ‘‘my mingled
feelings of anxiety and distress when about
noon, Saturday, April 13, 1861, Fort Sumpter
flamed up like a volcano, the interior having
caught fire; and it seemed as if the garrison
must speedily, either be consumed or torn to
pieces by the explosion of her large magazines
of powder. Amidst the rising flames and smoke
 188 DR. MOOD.

 

we could see by the help of our glasses a signal
that many present watched with the most in-
tense interest. It was the Mason’s appeal for
help. Instantly a small boat, with a single pas-
senger was seen to shoot out from Cummings
point, and in the direction of the fort. It was
Senator Wigfall, of Texas, then Aid to the
Commanding General, who as a brother Mason
answered Major Anderson’s appeal, and amid
flying shot and shell reached the fort and crept
in through one of the port holes. We were told
subsequently that he found Major Anderson
and his men lying prostrate on their faces, to
prevent suffocation, and that the senator, a
highly impulsive and chivalric man, rushed for-
ward and embraced Major Anderson, exclaim-
ing, ‘‘Major, you have done all that a brave
man could do; this is not a matter of Masonry,
but a national conflict. If you cannot hold the
fort, haul down your flag.”

A few moments after the senator had crawled
in at the port hole, which I saw quite distinctly,
the stars and stripes began to descend upon the
staff, and ina few moments more a man could
be seen with a white flag walking around the
ramparts. The firing of the confederate bat-
teries ceased, and the immense concourse of
citizens dispersed in silence.”

‘J preached at Cumberland Church next
 PRESIDING ELDER. 189

 

morning. One may imagine the seeming awk-
wardness of the attempt, when such deep and
intense exitement filled the minds of the people.
As I emerged from the church door, two of the
official members asked me if I would accompany
them in a boat to Fort Sumpter, as the evacu-
ation was to take place about that hour. I con-
sented to go, but, I confess, not without twinges
of conscience as to the propriety of spending a
portion of the Sabbath in that manner. Three
of us, in a small sail-boat sped across the bay,
and anchored within about fifty yards of the fort
along with a number of similar craft. The
Harriet Lane, a large steamer belonging to the
Federal Government was anchored not very far
off. Soon the stars and stripes were run up the
staff, and the guns on the rampart of the fort
bellowed their salute. A man at one of the
guns near us was killed by a premature dis-
charge during this salute, the only death that
occurred during this curious preface to the civil
war. Immediately after the salute, a young
man sprang forward and lowered the flag, and
amid the cheers of the Confederate soldiers,
drew up the ensign of the Confederate Govern-
ment. A few moments elapsed, then the sound
of drum and fife was heard, and emerging from
the fort to the tune of Yankee Doodle, was the
small band, seventy-eight men, who had held
 190 DR. MOOD.

 

the fort during the thirty-six hours bombard-
ment. They were conveyed to the Harriet
‘Lane, which steamed out to sea, and in a few
hours was lost to view.”

The civil war was now fully upon the nation,
and all matters were affected by the conflict that
was raging.

Conference met this year in Chester, on De-
cember 12th. Bishop Andrew presided. Mr.
Mood found him quite unlike Bishop Paine in
his methods in the cabinet. ‘‘Bishop Andrew,”
says he, ‘‘was more reserved, sterner, but not
less sympathetic with the preachers and their
families. He put nothing to vote in his council.
Ile heard and weighed carefully the points pre-
sented, then decided the question, and we all
felt that there was an end of it.”

The war was now beginning to seriously affect
all church operations. The attention of the
people was turned more to the support of the
army than to that of the ministry. The missions
to the blacks were being broken up by the in-
vasions of the federal army along the coast.
The cordon of war was being drawn around the
city of Charleston. Perpetual anxiety about
husbands, sons, and brothers, kept the mind of
the people engaged in the direction of the battle-
field. The apprehension of invasion necessitat-
ing the erection of forts and fortifications, oc-
 PRESIDING ELDER. 191

 

cupicd the labors of multitudes of the blacks.
Many more had been moved from their homes,
and were employed in the manufacture of those
necessaries of life, which heretofore had come
from abroad, the importation of which being
now impossible, or at least extremely hazardous,
as the entrance to all the ports were held by
blockading fleets.

The social and religious standard was sadly
lowered, and the reports of the preachers at this
conference were by no means encouraging.

Another change awaited Mr. Mood when the
roll of appointments was read, he was an-
nounced as presiding elder of Charleston district,
and W.G. Connor was appointed to succeed
him on the Orangeburgh district.

After this Conference. Bishop Andrew accom-
panied Mr. Mood to Orangeburgh and spent
several days with him at his home. Here he
gave to his nephew much wise counsel as to the
probable exigencies of the work in view of the
war,  particularly the missions to the blacks, in
which he was deeply interested.

A few months after this, after passing through
deep afflictions, ina letter to his brother William
he wrote: ‘‘For nearly three years now I have
filled an office, which from its being principally
of an executive character, and from the scattered
nature of my work, prevents me from seeing the
 192 DR. MOOD.

 

fruits of my ministry. Iam far from thinking
that [am best suited by constitution and tem-
perament for the position. I am comforted,
however, in the consolations of grace. I have
never felt stronger desires after holiness or more
ardent aspirations for conformity to the divine
image.
“After thy lovely likeness Lord
Oh when shall I appear? ”

is the continual cry of my heart.. My late afflic-
tions I trust have not been without their advan-
tage in leading me to greater submission to the
divine will. But still Ihave to say, 2g. 23-14

“And yet how far from thee I lie
Oh Jesus raise me higher.”
 CHAPTER XIV.

BESIEGED IN CHARLESTON.

The Charleston district was composed numer-
ically of seventeen charges; four stations, four
circuits and nine missions. Three of the mis-
sions, however, had been broken up by invasion,
and the six remaining had been seriously threat-
ened. Late in the previous year a fire had
desolated some of the fairest portions of the city
of Charleston; several of the leading church
buildings had been destroyed, and Cumberland,
the oldest Methodist organization in the state,
haeésits building burned. This was the condition
of the district at the beginning of 1862. Mr.
Mood moved to the city and at once entered
upon the duties connected with his office. By
his removal into the district parsonage, his mind
was awakened to action, for many memories
connected with events of his life were crowded
within the narrow space of this building. It
was in a corner of the basement room that at a
prayer-meeting many years before, he had made
his vows of consecration in answer to a divine
call to enter upon the work of the ministry.
This fact impressed him deeply and led him to
 194 DR. MOOD.

 

carefully review the past and to enter upon the
earnest purpose of being more faithful to God
in the future.

About a month after moving to the city his
first daughter, Kitty, was born, this was a great
joy to the family. Ina short while after enter-
ing upon his duties he found that the preachers
on the district and on the work generally were
beginning to suffer from the operations and de-
mands of the war. The entire work was ina
state of anxiety, confusion and alarm, and
several more of the missions had succumbed to
Invasion.

Rev. C. McLeod appointed in charge of Cum-
berland Church, had secured the use of a large
cotton-shed not far from the site of the burned
building, where he undertook to conduct regu-
lar services; but the congregation of whites from
whom he was to obtain support rapidly dimin-
ished. The same thing occurred with the other
city churches, so that Revs. C. McLeod, J. W.
Humbert, and later Rev. A. M. Chrietzberg,
being deserted by their congregations retired to
the country.

The siege had been regularly established.
Many of the inhabitants had withdrawn from
the city. The presiding elder found himself
pressed for means upon which to support his
family as the receipts in the way of rents were
 BESIEGED IN CHARLESTON. 195

 

cut off from property which he possessed, and
there was no income from the church worth
mentioning. Hecould not get his consent to
desert his post so long as he felt that duty held
him to it; yet if he remained in Charleston he
saw that he must provide some means of main-
taining himself and family. His father had been
induced to take a large government contract for
making bits, spurs, and other cavalry equip-
ments. In this emergency, he arranged with
his father to have regular factory operations
organized; and Mr. Mood worked daily along
with his employees, and from that time on, he
was by this means, enabled to secure a comfort-
able support even in the most distressing period
of the siege. These operations were soon so
thoroughly organized by him, that but little
more than a general supervision was required at
his hands, which could be done without any
serious draft upon his time. Under this arrange-
ment he was able to discharge all the duties con-
nected with his ministerial office. He visited
the work outside the city regularly, though
there was but meagre encouragement for him to
do so, owing to the little that was being accom-
plished in church matters. In the summer his
father went to the country and from that time
forward left the control of the factory entirely
to him. Bishop Andrew visited the city during
 196 DR. MOOD.

 

the year, and applauded this pluck of his nephew
at going back to his trade rather than deserting
his work or hazarding going into debt. In the
condition of the city churches, their pastors
nearly all being absent, he had abundant use
every Sunday for all his preaching strength
and talent. He doubtless overtaxed his strength,
as the demands were so many, upon him, for in
the latter part of the summer he was taken
down with typhoid fever. The fever held on
with alarming tenacity, and for weeks he
languished with but little pain, yet with a
steady decline of strength. Finally the crisis
passed and all were looking for his rapid con-
valescence when one morning, little Frank was
brought down stairs from his grandma’s room and
laid on his father’s bed for the doctor to examine
when he made his morning call. The bright
little fellow seemed very languid and sick. The
doctor sent medicine for him in the after-
noon; he continued very sick the next day, and
the night following he died, with the most
violent symptoms of yellow fever. This was
September 27, 1862. Mr. Mood was extremely
weak, and the shock at losing his first born, a
bright boy ata most interesting and lovable age,
was so great that a relapse followed. He had
known bereavement, but never before had he
suffered such a pang. He was so weak that he
 BESIEGED IN CHARLESTON. 197
could not rally against it. It seemed that he
must succumb to the relapse, but it pleased God
to turn again the tide of life and health, and
after a long convalescence he once more entered
upon the regular role of duty.

Conference convened at Spartanburg this
year, on December 11. Bishop Early was presi-
dent. The Bishop, as on his former visit was
extremely cordial to Mr. Mood, who indeed
was playfully twitted by the preachers as being
the Bishop’s favorite. He was returned as
presiding elder on the Charleston district, and
the congregations of Trinity and Cumberland
were united under one pastorate, as were also
Bethel and Spring Street.

The clangor of war grew louder, accompanied
with increased excitements, anxieties and ter-
rors. Rev. James Stacy, who had been ap-
pointed to the joint pastorate of Bethel and
Spring Street Churches, notified the Bishop and
Mr. Mood that for special reasons he would not
take the work. The duty at once devolved
upon the presiding elder, of supplying his place.
He was able to do this promptly and efliciently.
Rev. E. J. Meynardie, then a chaplain in the
army, and stationed on Sullivan’s Island con-
sented to resign his chaplaincy and serve as
pastor.

Mr. Mood served the district faithfully; kept
 198 DR. MOOD.

 

the work together and did as much good as the
irregularities of the times permitted. He also
served his country through his factory of cavalry
equipments, and from this source he drew his
support.

It was now that the greatest war alarm came.
He had gone out as presiding elder on the dis-
trict to attend a Quarterly Conference, when the
city was summoned to surrender. Upon refusal,
the citizens were notified by Gen. Beauregard
to leave the city, as the Federal Commander
threatened to shell it. Sure enough, though
their nearest battery was about four miles dis-
tant, one night about midnight, while a terrible
thunder-storm was prevailing, the Federals
opened fire and reached the city with their
shells. The citizens whose houses were in range
of the guns, fled from their houses in terror.
Hundreds of women and children, many of them
in their night clothes, and with naked feet,
could be seen tramping along through the rain
and mud, fleeing to places beyond the reach of
the deadly missiles. The presiding elder re-
turned to the city to see marked changes in the
number and feelings of the citizens. A large
number had left the city prior to this time, but
with this incident, the exodus received a new
impulse, as may be imagined. The oft repeated
statements of the prisoners lately captured, that
 BESIEGED IN CHARLESTON. 199

 

the Federals were intending to show no quarter
when Charleston was taken affrighted numbers;
and with each newspaper issue there was some-
thing to awaken fresh alarm in the minds of
those who had resolutely determined to remain
to the end.

Trinity Church was soon compassed by shells,
and the pastor left the city. The church build-
ing was struck at several places and greatly in-
jured. The panic in reference to bomb-shells
subsided rapidly. It is astonishing to observe
what the human mind can become reconciled to.
Soon the inhabitants who could not leave the
city settled down to composure, to hear hourly
around them, the explosion of these dreadful
messengers, followed by the crash of houses,
falling from the tremendous concussion. Mr.
Mood’s family had been sent to friends at
Orangeburgh at the first shelling of the city;
but Mrs. Mood, brave and faithful, soon re-
turned to share the dangers and privations of
the siege with her noble husband.

A bill had been introduced in the Confederate
Congress, looking to a conscription of every
man, including ministers and physicians, for
service in the army. He, thinking it best to
enter the army as a minister, if forced to enter,
applied for the chaplaincy of the military hos-
pitals at Charleston, this office having recently
 200 _DR. MOOD.

 

become vacant. After waiting some six weeks,
and hearing nothing from his application, the
matter had about passed out of his mind, when
unexpectedly the appointment came.

In a letter to Rev. W. W. Mood, under. date
of September 15, 1863, among other things, he
tells of it as follows:

‘On Saturday last I went to the post office,
and had handed me a large envelope stamped
‘‘official business,” and upon opening it, to my
great surprise it was a commission from the
President, making me chaplain to the hospitals
of Charleston, and requiring me to report for
duty immediately to General Beauregard. So
that Iam no longer a free man, but under or-
ders, having reported myself to the General’s
office yesterday and received orders to enter
upon my duties immediately. It will allow me
to attend to the remnant of my district, and the
pay being about double of a regimental chap-
lain, I will be able to support my family very
comfortably upon it; so that you must join me
in thanksgiving in this fresh manifestation of
providential goodness. It allows me too, to do
something directly for the army, which I have
felt so anxious to do, and then, it delivers me
from this regular care of making my support,
which has been such a weight upon my heart
ever since I had to engage init. I am rapidly
 BESIEGED IN CHARLESTON. 201:

 

winding up all our affairs here. I will ship the
last of our government work in a day or two 
as soon as I can get it packed, and hope to be
able to apply myself diligently to my new calling.

So we see him just now occupying the triune
position of presiding elder, post chaplain and
army contractor. A few weeks later he wrote:
‘“‘T have received a long nice letter from uncle 
[Bishop] Andrew, congratulating me on my
appointment to a ‘‘very honorable and useful
position.” He sees great cause for rejoicing
and hope, in the gracious revivals that are
spreading over the army. We have had a series
of gracious meetings, for the soldiers at Trinity.
A goodly number have joined the different
churches, giving in their names at Trinity. I
was at the fourth Quarterly Conference at Bam-
berg yesterday and day before, and expected to
beg a good deal for hospitals, but it rained so
on Saturday, and was so disagreeable yesterday
I could not do much.” |

With his hands full of his double work the
year drew on toaclose. Conference convened
at Sumpter, December 10th, 1863, under the
presidency of Bishop Pierce. The closing of
Trinity, the burning of Cumberland, and the
closing of Spring Street Church, had reduced
the Methodists to one congregation, and one
church building in Charleston.
 202 DR. MOOD.

 

At the beginning of the war there were 3,088
colored members enrolled in these three churches,
besides 1,235 enrolled at Bethel, making a total
colored membership of 4,323. Many of these
were yet in the city, and they could not be neg-
lected; so at the suggestion of Mr. Mood, the
colored people were thrown together as one
charge, to be called the ‘‘City Colored Mission,”
and Lion Church, a very large building, which
was thought to be beyond the range of shells,
was secured free of rent for their use. The
Bishop placed Mr. Mood in charge of this mis-
sion. The Missionary Society was able to pay
but little; he therefore looked mainly to the
chaplaincy for his support.

Gradually the shells encroached upon the
limits of the city, each new gun that was mounted
seemed to throw the missiles a little farther than
any that had before been in service. Finally,
Calhoun Street, on which the parsonage was
situated, was reached. He relates one experi-
ence:

‘‘One evening I was delivering a soldier some
testaments In the basement room of the parson-
age when we heard the sound of asbell. His
practised ear caught the direction, quicker than
mine He exclaimed: ‘‘It is coming here,” and
threw himself prostrate on-the floor; less nimble
than he, I had not gotten upon my knees before
 BESIEGED IN CHARLESTON. 203

 

it struck and exploded about, twenty or thirty
feet from where we were, just outside the build-
ing. It shook the house to its foundations and
shook our nerves In proportion. While that
particular gun operated, it was of course poor
sleeping. This shell was the only one that came
so dangerously near the parsonage, several, how-
ever, exploded on the premises just across the
street.”

Besides the horrors of the siege, heavy family
afflictions visited him this year. His father died
early in the spring. He was sick only a few
days. The last hours of this good man are
aptly described by his son, in a letter written to
Rev. W. W. Mood, the only member of the
family not present at the time of the death and
burial. His death was a fitting end to an upright
Christian life. We give the letter below:

CHARLESTON, 8S. C.,
Monday Morning, 9 o’clock.
Fep’y. 29th, 1864.

Dear Brother William: While I write, father
lies near me engaged in the last mortal strife.
He has been a great sufferer throughout his
sickness. As I wrote you in my last, his disease
being complicated, it was difficult to know what
remedies had best be used. Throughout the
long struggle with suffering he has displayed all
patience, and entire and cheerful submission to
 904 DR. MOOD.

 

the will of God. A while back he seemed to be
enduring extraordinary suffering; he called to
me and asked me what could bedone. I told
him nothing could now be done, but to cast him-
self entirely upon God. ‘‘Yes, yes, yes,” was his
reply; then he added, ‘Oh prove faithful 
work, work, work be up and doing. Be dili-
gent to make your calling and election sure.”
11 o'clock. I turn dear brother again from the
bed-side of our dying father to add a few more
lines knowing that every particular will be
treasured by you, prevented as you are from
being near him.

His fect now stand in the midst of the icy
flood, for he is cold to his knees but his spirit
still struggles with the clay.

In one of his dreadful paroxysms just now he
exclaimed, ‘‘Oh pray for me that my faith fail
not.” Then afterwards he said, ‘‘Yes, I claim
heaven my portion at last.” While Brother
Henry prayed, he answered ‘‘Amen” to every
petition, and then asked us to sing. We then
sang ‘‘And let this feeble body fail,” he tried to
follow the words, saying every now and then,
“Yes! Yes!”

Half past four a. M., March 1st. ‘‘The silver
cord is loosed, the golden bowl is broken.” Our
dear father has stepped across the flood only a
moment ago, and is now exchanging greetings
 BESTEGED IN CHARLESTON. 205

 

with the dear ones who have gone before. It
was a long and painful struggle he was sensi-
ble to the lagt, and ‘‘the best of all was, God
was with him.” Not long before departing I
said to him ‘‘You are almost across the flood,
pass a few more billows and you will be safely
landed, and then you will forget all the pains
and sorrows of the journey.” He replied ‘‘yes,
yes.” Dear Brother let us renew our efforts to
follow God closely.
Yours affectionately,
. ASBURY.”

At this time the labors of Rev. F. A. Mood
were unusually heavy. He preached regularly
as Missionary, conducting the Love Feasts and
sacramental services of the blacks, and labored
continually in the hospitals. Besides all this,
yellow fever was epidemic in the city during the
latter part of the summer there were but few
ministers who had remained in Charleston, so
that added to his other duties, there were nu-
merous calls to visit the houses of sick citizens,
or to perform the offices of burial.

The soldiers in the hospitals were suffering
from the want of the simplest delicacies and
he occasionally sought these in the country.
While on one of these excursions, he received a
telegram stating that Mrs. Logan was dead.
She died August 27th, 1864.
 206 DR. MOOD.

 

He had a singular premonition during this
epidemic that he would take the fever and die,
yet he was not willing to leave his post. He
called upon his family physician, and got full
directions as to how to proceed in case of an
attack. About ten days after this he was severe-
ly smitten. His symptoms were of the worst
type and he sank rapidly. On the third day of
the attack, the attending physician told Mrs.
Mood that her husband could not recover. This
was on Saturday. The next morning she sent a
request to all of the churches in which services
were conducted, for the prayers of God’s people
in his behalf. Dr. Mood felt that it was in

p answer to these prayers that suddenly the dis-
ease seemed to relax its hold upon him and he
began to grow better. His work had not been
done. God had great things in reserve for his
hand.

Conference came on while he was yet con-
valescing, convening at Newberry, November
16, 1864. Bishop Pierce presided. In spite of
his feeble condition Mr. Mood attended confer-
ence, his will and energy would not permit him
to refuse the secretary’s duties, and he managed
to get through them even in his feebleness, in a
satisfactory manner. He was returned as
missionary and chaplain, but on re-entering
 BESIEGED IN CHARLESTON. 207

 

upon his duties he found himself too feeble to
perform them.

In the meanwhile General Sherman had
reached Savannah in his ‘‘March to the Sea,”
and Charleston was supposed to be in imminent
danger of being assailed. Many of the citizens
who had thus far braved the dangers of the
siege began to fly, and everything indicated an
evacuation of the city by the Confederate troops.
In this emergency, as every one believed that
Charleston was a doomed city, but Columbia
safe, he took his wife and two little children,
' Kitty and Asbury the latter being an infant of
only afew months old, and yet in long dresses up
to Columbia, and placed them under the charge
of his brother Henry, who was, at that time,
president of the well known Female College in
that city. After returning to threatened and
beleaguered Charleston, he recognized the fact
that in his feeble condition he could not endure
the fatigues of an army retreat, neither ought
he to remain in the city, for thereby he would
fall into the hands of the Federal army; and
judging from their action in the case of other
chaplains, this would mean imprisonment;
which from the well known horrors of Northern
prisons to one in his health must result in death.
What was he to do? In this extremity there
were but few courses of action to choose
 208 DR. MOOD.

 

between. He was not long in deciding what he
would do. Ina letter to one of his brothers he
gives the plans he had decided upon. The letter
is as follows:

CHARLESTON, S. C., Jan. 2, 1865.
Dear Brother Willttam: .-

What I will tell you hereafter in this letter
will serve in some measure to explain my long
silence. I was in Columbia some time after
conierence, then came to Charleston, preached
two Sabbaths and was used up. I went to
Fitch and Mood; they required me to desist
forthwith from all public ministrations for
several months and advised me to go before the
Medical Examining Board, who confirmed the
decision of these doctors. This left me blue
enough. My voice is very weak and I suffer
all the time with my breast. The doctors say I
preached too soon after getting up from yellow
fever. Well, what think you I have donc?
Waving to be idle so long was intolerable to me,
so I determined to try to go to England and
spend my time there begging for missions, ete.
The doctors thought a trip on the sea the very
thing I needed, so I will tell you how far I have
gotten along in my project. I have obtained
the Medical Directors’ and Gencral Hardee’s
approval of an application for leave of absence.
I have Governor Magratte’s hearty endorsement
 BESIEGED IN CHARLESTON. 209

 

of an application for a passport, both of which
will be on their way to Richmond this after-
noon. I have had two bales of cotton sent to
Nassau for me free of charge. I have a free
passage given me over to Nassau. So that as
things look so favorably to my going, I venture
now to write about it. In addition to all this,
Providence seems to invite my going by giving
such a snug place to my family. What do
you think of the project? I will take Quash,
the negro barber with me, as my servant, and
ke will exhort for me if necessary. * * *
Your affectionate brother,
ASBURY.”

This step was singular and unaccountable even
to himself in after years. He had been released
on account of his health from all obligations to
follow the army and knowing the tender devo-
tion with which he regarded his family it is only
with surprise that we can contemplate how he
got his consent to leave them in the midst of
such vicissitudes. Yet these very vicissitudes,
the calamities and excitements of war tended to
vonfound judgment and reason, and he was led,
not only to leave his country at this critical time,
but he assumed the great hazard of passing
directly under the frowning guns of the block-
ading fleet. Perhaps his ways were provident-
ially ordered and it required this voyage to give
 210 DR, MOOD.

 

him a new lease on life, the tenure of which
would run for another twenty years. His mind
always worked rapidly, it had been made up to
this step upon the shortest notice, and now as
was his habit, it was not long before he had put
his purpose into action. 9. 22- '¥
 CHAPTER XV.
RUNNING THE BLOCKADE.

During the last few months struggle of the
expiring “Confederacy the port of Charleston was
so completely blockaded by the Federal fleet,
that it was exceedingly difficult and dangerous
for vessels to pass in or out at that harbor. But
Mr. Mood’s purposes were fixed. Friends inter-
ested in blockade-running, had already sent a
number of bales of cotton to Nassau, on one of
the Bahama Islands, subject to his disposal, and
by the sale of which he expected to realize a
sufficient amount to meet his expenses while he
was away from home. Thus far his way seemed
clear, for Confederate money and Confederate
credit was worth but little at home, and nothing
abroad; cotton, however, could readily be con-
verted into specie, in any foreign port. The
passage that had been proffered him had been
accepted, and he had been notified to be ready
to sail on an-appointed night. The necessary
arrangements were speedily made, and he was
promptly on board at the stated time. The
vessel was painted white and the crew and pas-
sengers were all required to dress in white as
 212 DR. MOOD.

 

their design was to elude the vigilance of the
blockaders, and experience had proved that
white was more favorable for this purpose than
any color or combination of colors they could
select. For convenience all on board wore long
white robes or gowns reaching to their feet,
with white caps covering their heads. These
phantom ships with their ghostly crew must
have been weird sights as they skurried along
through the mist and darkness.

Rev. W. W. Bennett, D.D., of Virginia, also
an army chaplain was to be his fellow passenger.
He had been sent out by the Confederate Bible
Society for the purpose of procuring a supply
of bibles for the Confederate soldiers.

After safely reaching his home, Mr. Mood
wrote a series of articles for a newspaper which
he edited for a few months, giving many of his
trials and experiences while on the blockade run-
ner and in the city of Nassau. We give a few
quotations from these articles.

He says: ‘‘The first attempt we made to run
the blockade, which, however, proved a failure,
was exciting enough. The jaunty little ‘“‘Fox”
lay saucily spouting steam from the escape pipe
while we made our supper. Suddenly the order
was peremptorily passed into the cabin, ‘‘put out
the lights.” The wheels revolved, and off we
started on our hazardous attempt. No lights
 RUNNING THE BLOCKADE. 213
were permitted in the harbor so we were verily
groping our way in the dark. We had just
gotten abreast of Fort Sumter, and the mysteri-
ous flashes of the signal lights were multiplying
along the Sullivan’s Island shore, and we were
all peering with anxious eyes into the profound
darkness, when suddenly there loomed up a
large black monster on the larboard quarter.
‘‘Hard up your helm” shouted the Captain and
Pilot in one breath. ‘‘Back! back!” was cried
to the engineer; scarcely had the order passed
their lips when with an awful crash the boats
collided and we were nearly thrown on our
faces. We all rushed forward instinctively to
learn our fate, and there gaped a hideous open-
ing down to the waters verge. The picket
steamer had run into us. With many mutter-
ings of anger and disappointment, we turned
back on our track, and soon our little ‘‘Fox”
was snugly moored at the Savannah Railroad
wharf.

‘It was rather a calm night to venture out in
the face of the blockading fleet, and about an
hour after we had landed, the revolutions of
paddle-wheels were heard rapidly nearing us,
and directly the sharp outlines of a blockade
runner were seen. ‘‘What steamer is that?” we
called out. ‘‘The Little Hattie,” was the reply.
Upon boarding her we found that at just the
 b14 DR. MOOD.

 

other side of the famous break-water that juts
out from Sullivan’s Island, the Little Hattie had
been attacked by barges, but she had escaped
with a hole through her wheel and pilot-house,
the ball taking off the right arm of the man at
the wheel.

‘Our fourth was our last and_ successful
attempt. Our steamer had been repaired, but
the weather had remained provokingly calm, the
sky clear, and the phosphorescent light of the sea
unusual. Thursday night, however, was as the
captain expressed it, ‘“‘perfectly beautiful for
running the blockade.” It was dark as Erebus,
soot overhead, and ink beneath. The wind
howled dolefully through the rigging, throwing
up a sea, that while as the captain said ‘‘Ample
to drown the sound of the wheels” seemed to us
to threaten to drown a good deal besides, for a
misty rain that shut out all objects a few yards
distant invited all sorts of accidents.

‘It was very amusing to see us, before leav-
ing the wharf, choosing the safe positions in the
event of our being discovered and fired upon.
The cabin had been carefully fortified with cot-
ton bales, and it was not unnatural for us to
suppose that a safe place. But our theories
were exploded by officers, when at the table,
through remarks like these: ‘‘What! Stay in
the cabin to have your brains knocked out by
 RUNNING THE BLOCKADE. 215
splinters?” Said another emphatically, ‘You
know splinters are much more dangerous than
shells.” A third added, ‘‘And if the ship is
struck and begins to settle, a pretty piece of
business it would be to be shut ‘up in this
caboose.” So we went out on deck. My friend
B gave the whole subject deep thought and
the entire deck careful examination. With most
ingenious thoughtfulness he selected an opening
among the cotton bales just abaft the boiler.
This arrangement gave him the boiler on one
side, which protected him from the keen cold
air, and cotton bales around him on the other
three, which would protect him from cannon
balls on the rear and flanks. But he promptly
evacuated his comfortable hiding-place, upon
being reminded that if a cannon ball should
strike the boiler he would suddenly find himself
in “hot water.” The writer was run out of his
hole near the mast by the warning cry, ‘‘Look
out for splinters!” Finally, at the suggestion
of our brave young friend F , who had
charged on many a battle-field, and who had lost
an arm in fight and who had a right to advise
In such matters, it was resolved that in the
event of attack we would ‘‘lie supinely upon
our backs and wait until the enemy” had done
his worst.

But steam is up, the anchor is weighed, and

 

 
 216 DR. MOOD.

 

we are under way, anxiety for safety and suc-
cess weighing heavily on our minds. Our lily-
colored steamer plunged along upon an inky
sea into impenetrable darkness.

‘Fort Ripley had been passed, and the gloomy
fortress of Sumter towering on our starboard,
and the surreptitious flashes, like fire-fly lights
glancing along the shore, being answered from
our steamer, when presently an ominous roar-
ing thunders just ahead. The officers stand in
silence, scanning the darkness, and we can hear
in a low tone, but with startling distinctness,
‘‘A wreck dead ahead, sir, back her, sir, back
her, sir.” We peer into the darkness, and there
on either hand rolls in white folds the angry
surf over the breakwater and the skeletons of a
dozen wrecks.

It is dangerous navigation at this point in
times of peace, when beacon-lights and light-
houses mark out a pathway, but it looked like
rushing into the jaws of fate to venture there a
stormy night, when these friendly guides were
not flashing their rays across the waters. We
turned around, backed, went forward, backed
and turned with anxious caution and again
plunged forward. The sea roared in white
anger on us upon either side as we finally rushed
between this Scylla and Charybdis; but we
passed in safety. Our success here, only intro-
 RUNNING THE BLOCKADE. 317

 

duced us to greater perils beyond, for just out-
side the breakwater the barges of the enemy
were usually lying in wait. It was too stormy
however for the barges to ride the waves, and
so our little steamer danced her polka over the
water, until the long, steady, heaving motion
of the waves notified us that we were upon the
ocean’s bosom. |

But what is that we see on our starboard?
Hush! keep silence all! is whispered along the
deck, for their is the cordon of blockaders, their
lights betraying their lurking-places. Their
black hulls loom up out of the water like huge
spiders, ready to spring upon their prey.
“Look!” said an old salt to me, ‘‘Look! we are
near enough to fling a biscuit aboard of her.”
But you must remember what sort of a biscuit
he meant. It was ‘“‘hard tack,” an article of
which I once heard that it might be shot out of
a cannon through a two-inch board without
breaking. But the darkness that had been
against us now favored us, and these dangers
too were soon passed safely through.

‘‘The blockade runner was a lonely voyager.
She dreaded to see or to be seen by any other
craft. All day while voyaging, a man dressed
in white was drawn by a tackle to the mast-head
and reported every sail, for the discovery of
which he received special compensation. Ag
 618 DR MOOD.

 

soon as ‘‘a sail ho!” was cried, and the answer
given to ‘‘where away?” the vessel darted in an
opposite direction. And so for days we were
playing hide and seek among the ocean’s waves.
We had beautiful weather the latter part of the
voyage, and our little steamer sped along over
a calm sea and under a bright sky. Those who
had suffered with sea-sickness during the rough
weather revived, and were able to sit on deck
and enjoy the balmy southern breezes, which
were already wafted to us from the Antilles.

‘Sunday was a lovely, day, already the air was
like May in Carolina though it was now in the
middle of January. Soft summer breezes wafted
to us tropical perfumes and all nature seemed to
invite to gratitude and worship. As we sat
upon the deck in the beautiful sunshine, our
hearts went back to friends and loved ones.’
‘Little Mary Lee,” said my friend B , look-
ing at his watch, while all of a father’s tender
affection arose to hiseyes. ‘‘I wonder what she
is doing?” and while he proceeded to divine the
childish diversions of the hour,’ my own heart
answered in thoughts of my own little blue-eyed
Katie. We were out amid peaceful scenes and
these innocent ones were encircled by war’s
devouring elements.

‘‘But two things received any considerable
attention or accommodation on board a blockade

 
 RUNNING THE BLOCKADE. 919

tun

runner, these were cotton and the cuzsine. The
first named has preference over everybody and
everything, having precedence even in the cabin,
the passengers being politely handed to beds
upon the cotton bales, or the dining tables. The
cursine was furnished with every delicacy served
at almost every hour of the night and day. In-
deed next to getting safe out of Charleston and
getting safe into Nassau, but one idea seemed to
fill the heads of all interested, and that was to
eat and drink all they possibly could, of every
imaginable variety and ,excellence of food and
liquor. ‘Oh I am so tired climbing over these
cotton balés,” exclaimed one of the cuzsene bric-
ade, passing us one day; and no wonder, thought
we, for it was one ceaseless trot after coffee and
all the e¢ ceteras, which on a blockade runner are
innumerable. Our facetious, but sea-sick friend
B ., would frequently, with a ghastly smile,
point to the members of that legion for they
were many as they incessantly flew from the
galley to the cabin, armed with plates, tureens,
and coffee-pots, and exclaim ‘‘ That is the active
department on board this ship.”

‘‘The sight of land is at any-time pleasing to
one who has been even for a short time on the
ocean, but the sight of the green Bahamas, as
they rise from the bue waves, skirted with their
fringe of white foam; the raging surf, that beats
 220 DR. MOOD, =
eternally upon their coral reefs, is beyond de-
scription beautiful.

‘‘We came in sight of them Tuesday, and all
that day we skirted along their beautiful shores
 now 2 light-house, then a shoal of flying fish,
a flock of sea-birds, vast fields of sea-weed, or
the boom of the roaring surf, as it was tossed a
hundred feet mid-air, enlivening the scene.
After passing the Elbow Light, the greatest
anxiety was manifested by the officers of the
boat, for just beyond the ‘‘Hole in the wall”
light, the Federal cruisers had an ugly habit of
loitering and suddenly pouncing down upon the
blockade runners. We all felt that it would
have been supremely disgusting, now that we
were almost in sight of Nassau to have one of
these huge spiders pop out from this ‘‘Hole in
the wall” and gobble us up.

‘But New Providence hove in sight and all
hands evidently felt relieved. The look-out left
his perch at the mast-head, and the pilot came
tous gleefully rubbing his hands, exclaiming,
‘‘All danger is past now” he got $5,000 in gold
for every time he got the ship safe into Nassau,
and the captain got a like sum.

“It was profoundly affecting to my feelings,
as we rounded into the Nassau harbor to look
out upon the scene beforeme. It was just grow-
ing dark. The dock was crowded with shipping,
 RUNNING THE BLOCKADE. 221

 

the city lay in quietness and safety, and a thou.
sand jets of gas-lights from the streets and win-
dows, illuminated the scene; while cheerful
songs, music, conversation and laughter were
borne to our ears. It was impossible to shut
out from my mind the scene we had just left
behind us. We had crept stealthily from a city
whose harbor was deserted, whose streets were
desolate, whose dwellings were in darkness save  
as illuminated by the glare of conflagrations
from Gen. Gilmore’s ‘“‘“Greek Fire,” or the flash
from exploding shells; and whose silence was
broken only by the crash of the falling walls or
the roar of hostile cannon. As the merry sounds
of laughter and music were borne over the
water, thoughts of home and loved ones, hemmed
in by the fiery circle of war again filled our
hearts with sadness. But we were compelled to
shake off all reveries. ‘‘Go to shore sir?” was
urged a thousand times, from dozens of anxious
darkies, each of whom seemed sorely afraid we
might have the temerity to remain on ship-board
all night. ‘*What will you take us ashore for?”
we asked. ‘Only fifty cents, sir.” ‘‘Whew,”
said F , ‘that is $25; remember we paid $50
in Confeds for $1 in gold.” The fact is, F
harrowed us all next day with these calculations.
Said he, with horror depicted on his countenance
‘Do you know that we will have to pay $150

 

 
 g22 DR. MOOD.

 

per day at the hotel, for they charge $3 in gold.”
The fact is, we were stunned by this sudden con-
flict of old and new ideas in money value.

Upon reaching shore another crowd of atten-
tive and ambitious darkies crowded around us
displaying the greatest interest in our persons
and baggage. We speedily relieved their anxi-
ety by picking up our baggage a la Confeder-
ates and walking to the Royal Victoria Hotel.”
 CHAPTER XVI.

IN THE WEST INDIES.

‘A galaxy of languid Ameriean beauties,
floating in white muslin, escorted by fine-look-
ing well-dressed young fellows, safe outside the
Confederacy the sight of whom F mali-
ciously declared would have made the mouth of
a Confederate enrolling officer run water met
our gaze as we entered the dining-hall of the
Royal Victoria Hotel on the morning after our
arrival. We, on our part, attracted considerable
attention, our battered appearance contrasting
strangely with the handsome appointments of
the large saloon, and we were confronted with
eye-glasses in alarming numbers, which were
brought to bear on us with frightful delibers-
tion. But we tried to carry ourselves calmly as
men who, just from the front, had been under
heavier fire than that, and we carelessly and
blankly met the intimidating assault of the
quizzing glasses as though we felt like saying:
‘‘Oh, fire away! Those glasses are nothing tothe
200-pound shells that we have been dodging for
the last two years.”

‘‘The tables of the “‘R. V. H.” groaned under

 
 224 DR. MOOD.

 

every imaginable luxury from the zones and
tropics, and we were regaled with the aroma of
fruits from all parts of the world. You must
remember, we were poor Confederates, who had
been subsisting for years on the closely calcu-
lated meals of a besieged city, made up chiefly
of coyn bread, molasses, and bacon. Think of
such men suddenly introduced to a bill of fare
calling for four different sorts of soups, five of
fish, three of poultry, six of meats among them
what was printed ‘‘Bouille Beef,” and which my
friend B  persisted in translating ‘Bully
Beef” nine of vegetables, eight of pastry, six
of fruit, with nuts, raisins, etc., not to mention
the entrees.

‘‘With all this profusion, however, we missed
one thing which from long use among the Con-
federates had become a staple article of table
consumption I mean ‘‘sorghum.” B  and
myself tried to picture to our minds the con-
sternation that would be awakened among the
attendants, and the horror of the exquisites had
either of us had the hardihood to call for mo-
lasses.

‘Our sojourn in the West Indies would have
been delightful had our minds been in peace.
But echoes of war’s horrid din continually
reached us, bringing each time tidings of ac-
cumulating disaster to Southern hopes. Nothing
 IN THE WEST INDIES. . 220

 

can surpass the beauty of West Indian scenery.
The gorgeous foliage and fruit of the tropics so
completely differs from that of the temperate
zones that one feels as if he were transferred to
another sphere. Fruits that we had never seen,
because too delicate to admit of transportation,
flowers whose heated sap will flourish only un-
der a tropical sun, continually recurred, and the
easy, languishing habits of the whites, the idle
and live-to-day habits of’ the blacks, told a trop-
ical tale.

‘‘Thousands of miles of unbroken ocean inter-
vene between the Antilles and the coast of
Africa; and there is therefore to be seen a trans.
parency of the ocean’s waters, a height, power
and sublimity of the ocean’s waves, as in restless
surges it forever beats upon these beautiful
coral reefs, that are never seen about the conti-
nent. A penny may be seen fathoms below the
surface; and it is one of the amusements of the
Islanders to throw a small coin into the waters
and watch the struggles of the little darkies,
who, like hybrid devil-fish, dive, swim, squirm
and splash, in their efforts to recover it, which
when done becomes their property.

‘The dwellings of the islands, conformed to
the demands of the climate, therefore are not
without their peculiarities. Verandahs and pi-
azzas are universal, and so are Venetian protec-
 226 DR. MOOD.

 

tions. Chimneys are never seen, except pro-
truding from the kitchen-roof. The coral rocks

_ are quarried for building purposes; lime is ob-

tained from the same source, and the lumber
and furniture from Yankee Land. Their
churches generally are airy and spacious, and
affect ‘‘the dim religious light” much less than
English structures.

‘‘Here the first and most successful war of.
emancipation was fought, and here Africa’s
sons enjoy a paradise of freedom. Common
schools are everywhere provided, and experi-
enced, educated instructors ‘‘teach the young
idea how to shoot.” I do not mean to convey
any idea by the quotation, however, that they
are military academies, albeit the late experi-
ences of the English colonies seem to convey
the impression that ‘‘to shoot” is a conspicuous
“idea” of the race when educated. I visited
several of the schools and spent some time in
listening to their recitations. The most ad-
vanced classes recited lessons of only an ele-
mentary character and much of the time was
occupied in singing and marching these feat-
ures also an importation of Yankee Land.

‘In several of the schools that I visited the
floors were laid out in circles, triangles and
squares of different colors, reminding one of the
figures painted upon the floors of gigantic ball-
 IN THE WEST INDIES. 227

 

rooms to govern the cotillions. These figures,
however, were not to convey mathematical in-
struction, except in so far as it might partake of
a peripatetic complexion. The marchings,
counter-marchings, wheels, turns and flanking
movements of the classes were in some cascs
well executed and picturesque to a visitor, and
perhaps necessary to engage the interest of the
pupils, but consumed much more of the time
than the recitations and the study. Their sing-
ing was good. I have yet to see the negro that
cannot sing a physiological fact I will not now
discuss.

‘‘The fondness of this race for gorgeous dis-
play, we found was made liberal use of in the
schools that we visited. ‘The red cap boys”
was the title to one of their favorite songs, and .
was a tribute to those, who by excellent lessons
and behavior had the honor of wearing ‘‘the red
cap.” But anything more hideous as an article
of dress, one can scarcely imagine. It was a
tall liberty cap, of fiery red cloth, without a
visor, going toa point and ending in a tassel
which hung down over the right ear, reminding
me of those horrid pictures of pirates, in ‘“The
Pirates Own Book” with which when a boy I
foolishly tortured my imagination. Yet these
educated, and embryo-ebony pirates in appear-
ance, flaunted their red tassels with more pride
 228 DR. MOOD.

 

than I have ever seen a white child dandle a
gold medal; but whether: it enkindles superior
ambition to excel, I doubt.

‘‘The Missionary Conference, as it may be
called, of the Wesleyan Methodist Church in the
Islands, held asession while we were in the West
Indies. The chairman of the district, Rev. Mr.
Cheesboro, met us with Christian cordiality, and
introduced us to the several members of the
laborious and self denying body of Christian
ministers.

‘We were particularly interested in conversa-
tions we were permitted to hold with Rev. Mr.
Lofthouse, the oldest Wesleyan Missionary in
the Islands. He was a Missionary for years pre-
vious to emancipation, and in accordance with
the sentiment of his church urged emancipation.
At the time Mr. Wilberforce was pressing the
passage of the act before Parliament, he was
sent to England and was closeted with the com-
mittee that reported the bill. At the suggestion
and on the evidence of Mr. Lofthouse the com-
mittee adopted several important amendments.
Chief among these was the clause which
attempted, under an act of emancipation to hold
the negroes in a condition of vassalage, called
apprenticeship, for five years. The scheme
failed utterly. For though the freedmen were
bound to their former owners by a law of appren-
 IN THE WEST INDIES. 299

 

ticeship, they had the right of appeal to the
courts, and the delays of the law sufficiently
screened the freedmen from any enforcement of
this anomalous relation.

‘“Mr. Lofthouse confessed to disappointment
in many of his theories relative to the blacks.
The utter extinction of trade, the entire absence
of all exports being a reduction from $2,600,000
per annum to naught in Jamaica alone, the enor-
mous reduction in the value of real estate, the
general abandonment of plantations, the rapid
diminution of the black race one third having
disappeared since the act of emancipation the
steady and marked increase of disgusting de-
bauchery, the great decline of church member-
ship, despite the costly system of missions and
common schools, and to this extent, at least, the
failure of missionary enterprises in the Islands,
were points upon which he had felt great disap-
pointment, and for which he could give no satis-
factory reason, though we thought we could.

“I enjoyed the intercourse with this intelli-
gent, venerable and amiable minister‘of the gospel
very much, and indeed with all the ministers
with whom we were, by this accidental meeting
brought in contact. They are prosecuting their
ministerial duties amid many discouragements,
and are called to sacrifice nearly everything con-
nected with social and political life, that intelli-
 230 DR. MOOD.

gent and educated men regard as desirable.
But ‘‘none of these things move them, neither
count they their lives dear unto them,” and year
after year pursue their duties patiently and fear-
lessly. No man, who has a heart to admire the
heroic, but must admire and respect them in
their isolation and toil.

‘Though we were from what the outside
world imagined, ‘‘the region of the shadow of
death” the Slave States, they not only shook
our hands, and called us brethren, but treated us
as such and invited us to Christian communion
and fellowship. We preached for them to large
and attentive audiences, and they will not, I am
persuaded, soon forget the eloquent discourse
of my friend B , whose charming simplicity
and earnestness in the pulpit engaged all hearts.
We also delivered addresses by invitation at
their missionary meeting and the anniversary of
the Bible Society for the West Indies. At this
last, his excellency, the Governor of the Island
presided, who, though he met us with great
courtesy and cordiality, at this meeting informed
us that the necessity of the strict observance of
the neutrality pledged by his government for-
bade anything further.

‘‘After remaining about a month in the An-
tilles we determined to leave their beautiful
shores. We cast about for some time to secure
 IN 1HE WEST INDIES. 231

 

a berth in some steamer going to England, but
failed. The closing of the ports of Wilmington
and Mobile, and the prospect of the early cap-
ture of the port of Charleston, had all at once
exploded ‘‘blockade running,” and the steamers
were all lying by, watching events before they
determined on anything. So driven to this ex-
tremity, B and myself took passage in a
trim little brig called the ‘‘Wild Pigeon.” She
had great reputation as a fast sailer, and had as
her commander a_ kind-hearted, straight-for-
ward Englishman. We watched with impatience
the slow filling up of our vessel, but at last
‘received notification to be aboard on Friday
afternoon. This arrangement however had
been come to by the owners, in the face of a
protest by the Captain. He declared that he
had never known a vessel sailing on Friday to
make a successful voyage. He could cite a
hundred instances; he was excited, he was de-
sponding, he became angry. Friday was a day
of ‘‘bad luck,” and he saw no reason why he
should be made the victim of ‘‘bad luck” in
order to satisfy the cupidity of employers who
did not care whether he sailed on Monday or
Friday. Long, earnest and heartfelt were the
discourses we heard from the Captain on this
subject, and he gave us to understand finally,
that though it was a sailor’s maxim, ‘‘Obey

 
 232 DR. MOOD.

 

orders if you break owners” he was disposed
rather to ‘“‘break maxim” than ‘“‘break owners.”
The owners however were inflexible, and at
half past three o’clock on Friday, the afternoon
of a lovely tropical day, late in February, we
stood aboard our ocean home, and were looking
out, as I supposed for the last time, upon the gor-
geous equatorial splendor of the Antilles. Soon
after getting aboard, the Captain, with a cheerful
face, came to us saying ‘‘Gentlemen, we will
not get off this afternoon; you know I object to
setting sail on Friday; we will hoist sail with
the morning’s tide, four o’clock tomorrow.”
‘Then I can go ashore,”’ said I, promptly, feel-
ing unwilling to spend an hour aboard longer
than was necessary. ‘Oh, yes, but return
about dusk.” Jumping into the gig I was
rowed ashore, to take a last stroll over the
scenes that in their novelty had a peculiar fasci-
nation for me. I called and bade a second
adieu to my hostess, spent another half hour
with Mr. Cheesboro, and finally wrung his hand
in sadness for strange forebodings, for my un-
happy land, were now filling my heart and op-
pressing my feelings and then I sauntered
toward the beautiful bay once more. I was
listening again to the roaring surges, admiring
again the beautiful tinge of the beautiful sea,
when ahead of me I saw the expanded wings of
 IN THE WEST INDIES. 233

 

a trim little brig marvelously like the Wild
Pigeon passing out the mouth of the harbor. I
ran to some seafaring men in anxious haste,
‘‘What vessel is that?” pointing to her. ‘‘It is
the Wild Pigeon bound for Liverpool.” What
a predicament! My baggage but that was not
much and my friend B  were aboard. She
a half mile off, and I ashore. I ran to some
boatmen. In hurried and peremptory tones I
told them they must put me aboard that vessel.
They sprang to the oars. ‘‘A stern chase is a
long chase,” but my oarsmen bent themselves
to it. ‘‘Click-clack,” ‘‘click-clack,” thumped the
oars while the perspiration streamed from the
oarsmen. We were gaining on them. The brig
had rounded out of the mouth of the harbor and
we were now both upon the long heaving swell
of the ocean’s tide. But we overhauled the
Wild Pigeon in her flight just as the pilot was
taking leave. ‘

“I confess to some affectation of calmness
when I found myself alongside. ‘‘You are a
pretty fellow,” exclaimed B , ‘you came
near being left.” ‘‘Near being left indeed! am.
I not in time to get aboard?” ‘‘In time!” said
he, rather sarcastically. ‘‘Yes,” I cried, ‘‘in
time to get aboard, and that is all the time any
sailor wants.” But B  could not see it so.
He grumbled a good deal over my carelessness

 
 234 DR. MOOD.

 

and delay, and kept surmising the fix I would
have found myself in if I- had noé overtaken
them a surmise I could only reply to, by ask-
ing him what would have been the probable
state of this world if Eve had znoé plucked and
tasted the forbidden fruit?

‘“‘T think he was mollified a little however in
his feelings, by a small cargo of fruit and other
good things that I had managed to get aboard.
It seems that just after I left the brig, peremp-
tory orders came for her immediate sailing, and
despite the captain’s wishes, he had to hoist
anchor. I could not be found and so they moved
off without me. No harm was done, however,
for I got safely aboard.
 CHAPTER XVII.

A SEA VOYAGE RECONSTRUCTION USURPATION.

Prosperous gales wafted the Wild Pigeon on-
ward toward old England. It seemed that for
once a voyage began on Friday would be with-
out ill luck. Nearly two weeks had passed
since leaving Nassau, when one afternoon the
Captain was seen, anxiously scrutinizing a bank
of heavy clouds that lay along the Northern
horizon. He at once ordered the sails to be
taken in. Preparations were not fully com-
pleted when the storm burst upon them. Mr.
Mood afterwards described the scene as follows:
‘“T was sitting at a table in the cabin, writing.
It was about eight o’clock in the evening.
B  was lying on the sofa wrapped in his
overcoat, suffering from the pangs of sea-sick-
ness, when suddenly, by a tremendous lurch of
the ship, I was jerked violently from the table.
A second lurch, sent me, holding firmly to my
chair, upon a most ungraceful slide to the op-
posite end of the cabin, against which I was
thrown with violence. The roll of trunks, the
clatter of crockery, closing with the crash of my
chair against the paneling aroused B from

 

10-2 7~- 1€
 236 DR. MOOD.

 

_
eer  _ 

his torpor. He raised up, and in tones some-
what dogmatic, exclaimed: ‘‘Why Mood, what
are you about?” ‘‘Sliding,” said I. ‘Well, I
would quit if I were you,” and having thus de-
livered himself, he resumed his recumbent posi-
tion, his overcoat and his groans. The sharp,
quick, imperative commands of the officers, the
hurried tramping on deck, the plaintive cries of
the sailors from the rigging, the dismal howling
of the wind, the rushing waters and the wild
tossing of the ship, all announced the sudden
bursting of the storm. MHurrying on deck a
scene of wild sublimity met my gaze. The ship
rushed with frightful velocity through the
waves, at her prow a boiling cauldron, in her
wake a sea of phosphorescent fire. Ever and
again she seemed to hover on the edge of abys-
mal chasms about to make a plunge into im-
measured depths, the waves “‘lifting up their
hands on high” in horror, while black, impene-
trable clouds hung their mournful drapery
around the sublime catafalque, and the winds
with piteous wailings seemingly sobbing a dis-
mal dirge. We remained up until after mid-
night, occasionally looking out upon the raging
elements, and watching the swift flight of our
Wild Pigeon that seemed to be hastening in
terror from the scene.

‘The gale continued for three days with un-
 RECONSTRUCTION. 230

 

 

diminished power. At one time the sun broke
through the clouds for awhile in serene bright-
ness, imparting at once a new and sublime ap-
pearance to the awful scene around us. The
waves, from a leaden color, became a cerulean
blue, and, tossed mid-air between us and the sun,
looked like huge boulders of sapphire inlaid
with emerald. A singular and beautiful feature
of the scene, was the refraction of the sunlight
through the spray, into which the summit of the
waves was broken by the violence of the wind,
looking at times as if the arch of a giant rain-
bow had been shattered into a thousand frag-
ments and were strewn around us.

‘The third day found the gale increasing in

violence. About seven o’clock in the morning,

all was quiet in the cabin, save the monotonous
creak of the furniture the captain and the first

mate were below fatigued from the nights’

watches when suddenly there was a stunning,
overwhelming crash. I was hurled from my
berth out upon the cabin floor, the ship groaned
and reeled under the blow, and a moment after,
mingled with the sound of creaking timber and
broken glass, a torrent of water came pouring
in upon us through the broken hatches and sky-
lights. Dining tables, trunks, chairs, lamps and
China-ware, mingled with living men came
careening in wild and dangerous confusion down

Y
Y

Y

“
 238 DR. MOOD.

 

to the lower end of the cabin. Stunned by my
fall and blinded with water, as soon as I could
catch hold of something I got to my feet, only
to find everyone in the cabin, like myself, wet
and wondering, clinging to the first thing they
had clutched, their countenances expressive of
the greatest consternation. Nor was the con-
sternation less on deck. An overwhelming wave
had torn away the booby hatch, and swept off a
considerable section of the bulwarks. Casks and
barrels were rolling about, the men dripping
with water were clinging here and there, giving
an alarming appearance of confusion and wreck.

‘‘Late in the day, we made a melancholy
attempt at breakfast, the pitching of the ship
frequently sending the eaters in unexpected
visits to the other side of the cabin. Twice I
measured the length of the cabin, holding to my
chair with one hand and balancing a cup of tea
in the other, and succeeded in -going and return-
ing the entire trip without losing a drop. Ab!
those were dreary comfortless days, for the
broken sky-lights and raging storm necessitated
our being battencd down in darkness below.
- We could neither sit, lie, stand nor sleep in com-
fort and xo like felons in a dungeon, could only
patiently endure. Imagine if you can, the relief
we felt when after three days of such a life the
sun broke through the clouds, the angry waves
 RECONSTRUCTION. 239

 

subsided, our sails were again expanded, the
ship put upon her course, and we once more
found ourselves, safely and pleasantly progress-
ing; nor could we refrain from grateful thanks-
givings to that merciful God, who rules in earth
and ocean, and who youchsafed in His mercy, to
restrain the tempestous waves that seemed in
their fury about to cémpass our destruction. It
was amid the most exciting of these scenes that
we felt how precious it was to be able to place
ourselves in His gracious keeping, feeling that
whatever the result it would all be'well.”

After a voyage of thirty-seven days, the Wild
Pigeon reached Liverpool without further mis-

~

10-29 1eb

hap; and there they learned of the continucd ~~

disaster of the Confederate cause. Mr. Mood
was especially moved by the tidings of the evat-
uation of Charleston, and the burning of Colum-
bia. This last intelligence producing the most
acute anguish of mind; for there he had left his
wife and babes, and the published accounts
showed the action of the enemy under Sherman
to have been vandal-like in its barbarity. He
saw that the home to which his family was
assigned had been burned, and his imagination
pictured ten thousand horrors of their fate. He
was much impressed by the cold and reserved
manner in which he was met by many of those,
who in his former visit to England were appar-

~
 to~ donk.

240 DR. MOOD.

 

ently his warm and earnest friends. He learned
this important lesson; that the South was enor-
mously humbugged when she supposed she had
foreign sympathy in her struggle. With the

exception of some of the nobility, who were

anxious to see the United States power divided,
and a few who had business connections with
the South, the British nation was unanimously
against ber and rejoiced in her failures. On his
first visit the Wesleyan pulpits were all thrown
open to him, but now they were closed against
him, none of the ministers inviting him to off-
ciate. He was from the slave country and that
was a sufficient reason with them to ignore him
in his official relations. He soon saw that there
was no hope for carrying out the purpose that
brought him to England; for had he had the
heart and hope to labor in the face of the intelli-
gence that had reached him of the state of his
country, he was debarred the opportunity of
reaching the public through the proper channels.

Thus he stood surrounded with a concurrence
of distressing circumstances. What was he to
do? He could not get back to South Carolina
without swearing allegiance to the United States.

nis ne could not do so long as the Confederacy
existed as a government. He knew not what
stand his own country and army might yet be
able to make. Thus he was torn by mental

NT ee
 RECONSTRUCTION. RAL

 

anguish, led on by hope, then overshadowed by
despair. He could only await events. But
here, among his former friends, he found a few
who remained true and firm. Their kindness to
him was conspicuous in these hours of suspense.
The waiting, though it seemed ages, was not
long. A few weeks announced the surrender of
General Lee, of General Johnston, and finally
of General Kirby Smith, which last finished the
catastrophe. By a singular coincidence, with
the news of the surrender of General Smith,
came a few lines in a letter from Mrs. Mood,
which though few, told a weight of sorrow.
She said that Columbia had been destroyed, the
old homestead had been burned they were
without food, and begged him, if able, to come
home. |

The South had been subjugated. There was
no alternative for him. He must pass under the
yoke. He must gohome. Though the South-
ern cause was lost the claims of his family were
upon him.

He and Mr. Bennett then determined to sail
at once for America; but before they could take
passage on any of the steamships they were re-
quired to give indubitable proof that they were
citizens of the United States. Early the next
morning they. hastened to London, and called
on the United States Minister, Charles F.
 242 DR. MOOD.

 

Adams, to take the oath of allegiance. They
were kindly received, and upon asking Mr.
Adams if the reports of the downfall of the
Confederacy were true, he showed the dis-
patches just received from Secretary William
H. Seward which confirmed them. The oath at
their request was then administered. Both were
greatly distressed by this necessity and greatly
humiliated by the conditions of the oath.

They at once returned to Liverpool, secured
passage on the steamship Asia and set sail for
Boston. The voyage was melancholy enough.
There was much to irritate a Southerner return-
ing to a conquered country and a desolate home.
The greater part of the passengers were of the
victorious section, who were constantly vaporing
their silly boasts about conquering the rebels,
and claiming the rights of conquerors; though
they had been careful to keep far from the
scene of conflict while the war was raging.

It was very unpleasant to be in daily contact
with such a crowd, with the prospect ahead of
immediate arrest at landing, for Mr. Adams had
told him that the passport he gave only landed
him in Boston, and he could not tell what would
follow that, for great exasperation prevailed
owing to the assassination of Mr. Lincoln. He,
however, was only required to renew his oath
of allegiance to the United States before General
 RECONSTRUCTION. _ 248

 

Dix of New York. After remaining in New York
a few days, visiting relations and friends, he
came on to Baltimore, where the same oath was
required to be taken again. He found a few
very warm friends in Baltimore, who aided him
liberally and substantially, and secured him
free transportation via New York to Columbia.

While in Baltimore he learned that one of the
Bishops of the African M. E. Church was in the
city, having just returned from South Carolina.
He went at once to see the Bishop, who received
him most kindly, and said, ‘‘Your signature on
your card is very familiar.” ‘‘How so?” ‘*Why,
I have lately been at your home in Charleston,
and saw your library. I[tis in the possession
of Rev. Mr. Lewis of the M. E. Church.
Bishop Simpson sent him there. He has taken
possession of the parsonage with its furniture
and appointments, and all of the city churches.
A large majority of the colored people have
gone with him, though I have organized a large
membership.”

This was interesting news to Mr. Mood. He
was acquainted with Bishop Simpson, having
been intimately associated in Liverpool in 1857
with both him and Dr. McClintock, who that
year represented the M. E. Church at the
Wesleyan Conference. He determined that
while on his way to New York he would stop
 244 DR. MOOD.

 

in Philadelphia, call upon the Bishop and learn by
what authority that functionary could take pos-
session of any of the property of the M. E.
Church South.

Bishop Simpson received him spoke at once
of their pleasant association in England. He
soon alluded to the fact that Mr. Lewis had
been sent to Charleston to take charge of the
city churches. He then said, substantially, that
the Church South is meeting with denunciations
on every side, as the instigator of the war 
having taken the initiation step in 1844. That
it is identical with the M. E. Church in doc-
trine and discipline except on the question of
slavery, and now that that question has been
settled by the arbitration of arms, it can not
hope to maintain a separate organization. He
further said: ‘The work of absorption is
inevitable. The property of the Southern
Church will revert to our hands. Now, Mr.
Mood, I recognize in you arising young man;
if you will come at once into the M. E. Church
 a thing you must do eventually lI will see
that you are well taken care of, in fact, I will
give you your choice of the city churches of
Charleston.”

Mr. Mood was not the man to whom such an
offer from such a source would be acceptable.
He gracefully declined the proposition, and told
 RECONSTRUCTION. 245

 

the Bishop that he had not come seeking over-
tures, but for the purpose of having the church
property restored to its rightful owners and
forthwith began to urge the justice of his claims
 Bishop Simpson would not listen to reason, .
but rudely interrupted him, and Mr. Mood see-
ing that nothing could be accomplished retired
from the house.

He sailed in the steamer Arago, from New
York, along with the last of the prisoners from
Fort LaFayette, who were returning to their -
homes in thesouth. Mr. Mood was very happy
in the hope of soon being with his loved ones,
but he was returning to a conquered country 
a land made desolate by the ravages of war. He
was without means, his friends were impover-
ished, his Church perhaps would be disinte-
grated, the question that was perplexing his
thoughts and trying his faith was, ‘‘What is to
become of my family?” But in the midst of
these harassing thoughts, a gracious Providence
ensued. Not long after embarking, a gentleman
came to him, addressed him by name, and said
that he knew him in Greenville, South Carolina,
when he filled the Methodist pulpit in that town.
He further stated in his conversation, that he
was returning to South Carolina as a United
States Internal Revenue officer; he wanted an
assistant, and he offered him the position at a
 246 DR. MOOD.

salary of one hundred dollars a month. It
seemed a God-send in this hour of distress, for
he could not recall the name or face of his bene-
factor. Before giving his answer, he consulted
with some of the Confederate commissioned
officers who were aboard, and with their advice,
accepted the position.

The Confederate officers were allowed to
promenade on certain parts of the. deck. There
was only one lady passenger aboard. She often
sat on deck in pleasant weather. The Confeder-
ates would remark upon her northern manners.
She did not find favor in their eyes. Mr. Mood
noticed on one occasion that the glare of the
sun was unpleasant to her. He went to his
state room, brought up a small umbrella that he
had with him, and politely proffered it to her.
It was modestly received, and a kind remark
from her induced him to stand for a moment or
so in conversation. During the trip he hada
good many opportunities of paying her atten-
tions, and doing for her little acts of service.
He found her very intelligent; and gained much
information concerning current events, as well
as a knowledge of some of the inner workings
of the northern mind in reference to the recon-
struction of the South.

In the meantime, the Confederate officers were
having their fun at Mr. Mood’s expense. They
 RECONSTRUCTION. 247
gibed and ridiculed him for keeping company with
a Yankee school marm. He bore it all pleasantly,
kept his own counsel and let no opportunity
pass for being polite or attentive to this ele-
gant and well informed lady, from whom he
was learning so much. After they had been out
two or three days she told him that a steam tug
would meet them at the Charleston bar and take
her clirect to the city, while the steamer with
the other passengers would go on to Beaufort.
Fle also learned from her in this conversation,
that she was the wife of Brevet-Major General
R. Saxton, who was second in command at
Charleston, and that she was on her way to mect
her husband in that city. After learning these
facts he neither enlightened the minds of his
fellow-passengers nor ceased his attentions, to
this lady. He bore their jokes philosophically
for his mind was full-of another matter.

When he found that they were nearing
Charleston bar, he told Mrs. Saxton of his cir-
cumstances, the condition of his family in
Columbia, and of his great anxiety to reach
them without delays; and he asked her if it were
possible for him to go directly to the city with
her. She heard it all in silence, then said, ‘‘Mr.
Mood it is a profound secret that these are my
arrangements, I have nothing to do with them,
I cannot say now that you may accompany me.
 248 DR. MOOD.

However it is yet several hours before the tug
will appear, and I will meet you here and talk
with you again on this matter.”

It was not long before her baggage began to
be brought on deck. It was evident to the Con-
federate officers, who were grouped together
curiously watching the proceedings, and com-
menting upon them, that something unusual was
about to transpire. The lady reappeared, ex-
amined her baggage then approached Mr. Mood
and said to him, ‘‘Let your baggage be quietly
put here with mine, and when the tug appears be
kind enough to hand me over the ship’s side 
and follow me.”

Soon the tug was seen approaching, and came
alongside; the baggage was hurriedly trans-
ferred. The moment came. He offered her his
arm, and they both stepped aboard the tug.
The shrill whistle blew, and the tug started
shore-ward. The lady was cared for by the cap-
tain, and Mr. Mood standing prominently on
deck, took off his hat and politely bowed his
adieus to the Confederate officers, who looked
on with blank astonishment and envy as the
steamer again put out to sea, taking them yet
farther from their loved ones, from whom they
had been so long separated,

As he passed up the Charleston Harbor, that
July day, his mind could but revert to the man-
 50 DR. MOOD.

 

of whom had been owners of slaves, that he
might Jearn their real feelings towards the
Southern Church.

They said: ‘‘Mr. Mood, we have nothing
against our former church. We love her, and
always will. Our movement is one of policy.
If we remain in our former relations, as mem-
bers of the Church South, we acquire neither
influence nor church property. If we go to the
Northern Church we get both.” This, so far as
it appears, was the great moving cause with the
negroes of the South, inducing them to, almost
unanimously, change their church relations, and
to forsake their old friends with whom they had
been, so long, associated, and who had made so
many sacrifices for their good.

He hurried on to Columbia, riding for miles
together where the wave of war had rolled,
leaving everything behind it broken, barren and
desolate. His conveyance was an open wagon
drawn by mules. But he reached Columbia.
There, amidst its ashes, he found his wife and
babies, and they rejoiced together over their
mutual deliverances. There he learned the tale
of sorrow. How Columbia was burned. How
the Vandals had mercilessly applied the torch,
that drove his wife and children from their
home out into the streets, where with hundreds
of other panic-stricken refugees they wandered
 RECONSTRUCTION. 251
all night; the mother with her baby boy in her
arms, and her little three year old girl clinging
to the skirts of her dress. At last, toward
morning, she found a refuge in the yard of the
Insane Asylum, and subsequently, a temporary
home with a relative. But, thank God, this
night of terror was past, and bad as 1t was, it
might have been worse.

He at once moved his family to Charleston,
to enter upon the discharge of the duties con-
nected with his new and novel position. This
seemed to promise him ample support. How-
ever, after serving the United States in this
oftice for a few months, he was called on to take
what was known as the ‘“‘Iron Clad Oath” as a
condition of his drawing his pay. . Of course he
could not take that oath, so he left the office
immediately with about six hundred dollars due
him.

Upon reaching Charleston with his family he
found, as he expected, Rev. Mr. Lewis, of the
New England Conference of the M. E. Church,
in possession of Trinity Church parsonage, also
claiming and holding Trinity, Bethel, and
Spring Street Churches. He had turned the
first two churches over to the colored members,
who worshiped regularly in them. Bethel was
reserved for the whites and Mr. Lewis officiated
regularly here. Mr, Mood called upon him and
 252 DR. MOOD.

 

asked him to give up the house, but he refused,
stating that he held it by the rights of war and
under an order from Bishop Ames. He also
cooly stated that he held the churches, with
their furniture and libraries, for the Church
North, under a military order signed by Secre-
tary Stanton, and that he was secure in the
claim. No appeal to right had any effect on
him. With him might was right.

In the hasty manner in which Mr. Mood had
left Charleston, his library, his private corre-
spondence and many other items of property
were left at the parsonage. Bishop Ames could
have no trooped up claim on these things. He
asked Mr. Lewis if he would allow him to re-
move them, but he doggedly refused. ‘‘Up to
this time,” said Mr. Mood, when afterwards
alluding to the matter, ‘‘I thought I had been
entirely reconciled to the events of the war. I
had endeavored, calmly to meet the conse-
quences resulting from our appeal to arms, but
this struck a side of my affections that produced
in me the most distressing results. It seemed
to me that all the fierce passions of my nature
rose in rebellion to reason and grace, and I con-
fess to feelings of anger, contempt and hate, of
which I have since been heartily ashamed, and
for which I have implored God’s forgiveness.”

The Southern Church was sorely embarrassed.
 RECONSTRUCTION. 203

 

She was literally turned out of doors, and her
property seized by another Church that held it
without the shadow of a righteous claim.

After the emphatic refusal of Mr. Lewis to
relinquish the property, Mr. Mood determined
to leave nothing undone in order to secure the
rights of his church. None but those who had
to work out these difficult problems, can have
any conception of the troublesome obstacles that
blocked the way at every step. The state was
under military rule. The city was policed by
the officers and soldiers of the victorious army,
who flushed with victory felt that ‘‘to the victors
belong the spoils.” Public sentiment was para-
lized. The people were terrorized. They hardly
hoped for justice from the military courts.

Mr. Mood determined to make application to
President Johnson. But his individual applica-
tion unless backed by recognized military au-
thority would avail nothing. He determined to
call on General Saxton, who was in command of
this department and knowing the difficulties in
the way of obtaining an interview, he carefully
prepared all the papers necessary and took every
needful precaution to secure an audience with
the General and to insure the success of his
cause. He called at his office. There was a
large crowd in the ante-room awaiting an inter-
view with the officer. He sent in his card, and
 204 DR. MOOD.

 

was immediately invited into the presence of the
General who met him most cordially, remarking
as he held out his hand, ‘‘I have never had the
pleasure Mr. Mood, of meeting you, but I have
formed your acquaintance through my wife,
whom you accompanied on her trip from New
York, and who is so grateful to you for your
kind and gentlemanly attentions to her during
the voyage. What can I do for you?”

Mr. Mood, at once, proceeded to explain his
grievances, and presented the papers that had
been prepared requesting his inspection. The
General looked over them and inquired, ‘Shall
I endorse them and forward them to the Presi-
dent?” ‘‘By all means,” Mr. Mood replied,
‘‘and I will be very much obliged to you, sir.”
To this the General agreed, and Mr. Mood
thanking him for his kindness, bowed himself
out of his presence. .

In comparatively a few days the papers were
returned from Washington, properly endorsed,
with orders for an immediate relinquishment of
all the property. Mr. Mood immediately called
on Mr. Lewis and showed him the papers. He
was greatly surprised. His manner at once
changed, and he asked how long before he must
give possession? ‘‘I want possession immedi-

ately!” Mr. Mood replied, ‘‘and I will give you
 REHCONSTRUCTION. 255

 

until to-morrow to vacate the parsonage.” Mr.
Lewis asked the privilege of conducting one
more service in Trinity Church. Mr. Mood
granted the request with one condition, that he
be present in the pulpit. Mr. Lewis objected.
Mr. Mood said, ‘‘I require this as a condition.”
-On the following Sabbath as Mr. Lewis walked
into the pulpit Mr. Mood followed and sat be-
hind him while the services were being con-
ducted. During the services he took occasion
to speak in a most excited and offensive manner
of the Church South, to the immense concourse
of colored people present, representing that the
greatest injustice had been done them in requir-
ing them to relinquish the building. His remarks
were calculated to excite the worst feelings of
those who heard him. Mr. Lewis, no sooner
sat down than Mr. Mood arose, and in a few
well chosen words, firmly and authoritatively
spoken, required the congregation to leave the
church at once. They did so. Thus the par-
sonage, Bethel and Trinity Churches returned
into the posession of their rightful owners. But
Mr. Lewis held Spring Street Church as with a
death grip, and it was not until about two years
afterwards that in a dilapidated condition, it was
taken from his eager clutches.

It must ever remain a sad stain upon the
records of Northern triumph, that they were
 256 DR. MOOD.

 

willing, after the surrender of the Southern
armies to, so long, hold in the interests of a
Northern Church, the holy shrines where wor-
shiped southern people.
 CHAPTER XVIII.
IN LABORS ABUNDANT THE CALL TO TEXAS,

Conference met in Charlotte, North Carolina,
November Ist, 1865. Bishop Pierce, a third
time in succession presided. F. A. Mood was
appointed presiding Elder of the Charleston dis-
trict. After getting home from Conference, he
sat down, considered his surroundings and
almost gave up in despair. The war was over,
but it had left the country impoverished and
exhausted. He was presiding elder of a district,
but he could expect no income from that source.
It seemed to him, that if he looked to the Church
for his support, his family would starve. After
deep, earnest, and prayerful consideration of
this subject, he determined to seek for some
secular employment that would bring him an
income, sufficient to meet the wants of his
family, and yet that would not interfere with
the discharge of his ministerial duties. He
began to look about for such employment, and
by the aid of George W. Williams, of Charles-
ton, and in partnership with Rev. U. S. Bird, he
entered upon the publication of ‘‘7he Record,”
a family weekly newspaper. The first number
 258 DR. MOOD.

 

of this journal was sent out on Saturday, Decem-
ber 16th, 1865. It, at once, took high literary
rank among the journals of the South, and was
well received by the public. It was a literary,
family, and religious newspaper judiciously
combined, eschewing party discussions relating
either to questions of Church or State. Mr.
Mood developed great fitness for the editorial
chair; his articles were vigorous, aggressive,
terse, and finished; most of them possessing a
freshness that is perennial.

But this step was a venture, and a newspaper
venture at this time could but be a failure.
Financially it proved to be a source of much
anxiety and distress to him. After a few
months -he abandoned it, and not without con-
siderable losses, which harrassed his mind
greatly; these, however, he was able eventually
to adjust.

A short time after entering upon the news-
paper enterprise, he was waited upon by the
vestry of the Unitarian Church of Charleston
‘and invited to preach regularly for them. He
was surprised at this proposition, and said to
the gentlemen, that he was a Methodist preacher,
and could only preach Methodist doctrine. They
said, in reply, that ‘‘they preferred Methodist
doctrine from a South Carolinian, to Unitarian
doctrine from a New Englander,” there being
 THE CALL TO TEXAS. 259

 

no Unitarian organization south of New Eng-
land from which they could secure the services
of a preacher.

He, at once, wrote to Bishop Pierce of the
matter, stating the whole case. The Bishop ad-
vised him, by all means, to ‘‘serve them with
the pure Gospel.” Again we see him occupy-
ing a three-fold relationship editor of a news-
paper, Minister to a Unitarian Congregation,
and presiding elder of a district.

He preached regularly at this Church for some
months. When visiting the work of the district
outside the city, he procured the aid of some of
his brethren in the Ministry to fill the pulpit.
Perhaps this is the only instance in the history
of Methodism where a Unitarian Congregation
afforded support to a Methodist presiding elder.

Some months after this, when a minister came
over from England to take charge of this con-
gregation, a similar request to that which had
been made by the Unitarians, came to him from
the Vestry of the Huguenot Church. This was
a very old organization. It had an existence as
early as 1686, and the site on which their
Church building was erected had been the chosen
spot where the worshipers of this faith had
regularly assembled since 1701. The Church
was abandoned in 1863, from danger of the
shells. It had been greatly injured, having
 260 DR. MOOD.

 

been struck several times by the shot fired from
the besiegers, but singular to say, none of the
costly and delicate tablets, placed in the church
as sacred memorials, sustained any injury.
After the restoration of peace, this people de-
sired to worship God in their own sanctuary;
but they were without a pastor. Mr. Mood had
endeared himself to many hearts by his untiring
ministrations when the city was besieged, and a
pestilence was raging in their midst. Then it
was, that doctrinal lines were not considered,
and the Man of God was never questioned as to
his church relationship, and remembering these
things they now came to Mr. Mood and requested
him to take them under his ministerial care.
He was, therefore, duly installed as temporary
pastor, and the ‘‘re-opening services” of this
church, on June 17, 1866, was an occasion of
great interest.

He preached for the congregation of this
ancient Church until late in the ensuing year.
They were greatly pleased with his ministrations
and begged him to assume regular and perma-
nent charge. He referred them to Bishop
Pierce, who replied, that he could not so ap-
point him, but that he was willing to appoint
him for a regular Methodist term, beyond that
‘he could not go.

As they were accustomed to a fixed pastorate,
 THE CALL TO TEXAS. 261

 

they began to look about for one who could so
serve them. Meantime, however, while he
served them, he received from them a comfort-
able support, which enabled him to serve the
portions of his district which demanded the
labors of a presiding elder.

On December 28, 1866, the Conference met at
Marion under the presidency of Bishop Wight-
man. After returning from Conference Mr.
Mood was induced to take the position as Vice
Principal in the State Normal School, which he
held during the first half of the year 1867.

During this summer, Bishop McTyeire was
on a Visit to Texas. Soule University, at Chapel
Hill, in that state, had re-opened and was en-
deavoring to rise from the disasters of the war.
The trustces were anxious to organize and begin
a Normal School Department in connection with
the University. Upon conferring with the
Bishop on the choice of a principal, he, remem-
bering Mr. Mood’s connection with a similar
school in South Carolina, and knowing his sig-
‘ nal abilities, recommended him as the man for
the position. The Bishop immediately wrote to
Mr. Mood and urged him to accept the position.

About the same time, Mr. Mood received a
letter from Bishop Paine, asking him to consent
to be transferred either to New Orleans, Vicks-
burgh or Nashville, as the church was in special
 262 DR. MOOD.

 

need at those points. The Bishop stated that at
the annual meeting of the Bishops in May of
that year, they had selected him as a transfer for
the West. This, doubtless, was very gratifying
to him to find himself in such demand, and to
have some of the best appointments of the
church profered him, but he declined the Normal
professorship, as well as the transfer.

Conference of 1867 met at Morganton, North
Carolina. Bishop Doggett presided. Nothing
hitherto, had exhibited so much the sufferings |
and privations of the war, and the subsequent
repressive measures of the United States Govern-
mentas this Conference. The people everywhere
had been corrupted or demoralized by the war.
Religion was at a low ebb, and preachers of the
Gospel poorly paid; many of them on that
account being unable to get to Conference; and
those who were in attendance were generally
poorly clad and despondent in feeling. At the
previous Conference Mr. Mood had been ap-
pointed to preach the annual sermon at this ses-
sion. He prepared his discourse carefully and
prayerfully, endeavoring to suit it to the needs
of his hearers. The occasion was blessed of the
Lord. The preachers seemed greatly encour-
aged by the discourse, and on the next day
honored him with the request of a copy for pub-
lication.
 THE CALL TO TEXAS. 263

 

The text was taken from IT Corinthians, ch.
V, ver. 14. ‘‘The Love of Christ constraineth
us.” After an exposition of the text, he closed
the sermon by alluding to the many sufferings
and trials through which St. Paul was called to
pass, and applied the apostle’s encouraging
words to the immediate circumstances of his
hearers.

Towards the close of the Conference, at one
session of the Bishop’s Council, the Bishop asked
Mr. Mood to retire for a while; upon his being
recalled he was informed that the presiding
elders had unanimously recommended him to
the pastorate of Trinity Church. Mr. Mood re-
presented to the Bishop the difficulties he thought
to be in the way of this appointment, but it stood
confirmed and was announced. This was a great,
avery great trial for Mr. Mood. He had been for
years preaching in the city. The people were
familiar with him and his manner of preaching.
He saw that there was a great work to be done
if he were only equal to the occasion, but au-
thority had decreed that he should go, and he
determined to obey.

During the year 1867, be had felt very un-
happy over the previous secularization of his
time which the contingencies of the war had
made necessary; but he felt that now the coun-
try was recovering from the effects of the war,
 264 DR. MOOD.

 

and that the people would support the Gospel.
He, therefore, resolved, that from this time for-
ward he would let go everything but the work
of the regular ministry.

He entered, upon his labors as pastor of
Trinity Church, meeting with some annoyances
that gave him anxiety and distress; yet he went
forward in God’s name and endeavored to do
his duty.

His ministry was well received and largely
attended. In the summer, a gracious work de-
veloped, resulting in the conversion of about a
score of souls with numerous accessions, and a
great quickening of the spirituality of the
Church. |

In the winter of 1868, and about the time that
he had entered regularly upon his pastorate, he
received a letter from the Board of Trustees, of
Soule University, offering him the Presidency
of that institution. He had, however, just en-
tered upon his year’s work, and had no thought
of leaving the South Carolina Conference, where
he had such warm and endearing associations,
 and which had so frequently recognized his
talents, by placing him in positions of honor; so
he declined the position.

In the fall of this year the trustees renewed
their call, accompanying it with a letter from
Bishop McTyiere urging him to accept the posi-
 THE CALL TO TEXAS. 265

 

tion. This was followed by a letter from Bishop
Andrew, who also advised him to respond favor-
ably to the call, ‘If South Carolina could spare
him, which he doubted.”

All of this put the matter in a new light. The
advice to accept coming from such high sources
that he could no longer treat the question with
indifference. Hesays: ‘‘After much correspond-
ence, consultation with friends, anxious thought
and earnest prayer, I determined to respond
favorably to a call that seemed to come through
the Church from Him, ‘whose I am and whom I
serve.’”

The announcement of his intention to go to
Texas, showed how numerous were his friends,
and the strong hold he had upon their affections.
These were numbered in the city and country,
among laymen and brethren with whom he had
served in the ministry for eighteen years; and
from them, in all parts of the state he received
letters and messages either urging him to remain
or regretting his loss to them, should duty call
him away.

On Sunday morning, November 8th, 1868, he
preached the closing sermon of his pastorate in
South Carolina. It had been announced in the
city papers that this would be his last discourse
and a very large congregation filled the spacious
house; for not only his friends in the Methodist
 266 DR. MOOD.

 

ranks, were there, but he saw present, many of
the members of the Unitarian and Huguenot
congregations whom he had served. His text
was, ‘‘God forbid that I should glory, save in
the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Gal. VI,
ver. 14. The Lord helped him, he spoke with
great power and the congregation was deeply
moved.

On the following Thursday morning, he, with
his wife and three children, for his second
daughter Maggie had been born some months
before bade a last farewell to relatives and
friends, went aboard the cars and were off to a
distant state where he was to enter upon a new
and untried field of labor.
 * CHAPTER XIX.

RUTERVILLE, WESLEYAN, M’KENZIE, SOULE.

Rev. Martin L. Ruter, D.D., was the first man
to take active steps towards the founding of a
religious institution for higher education in
Texas. He has been called the Apostle of

Methodism to Texas. In science and philosophy .

he was profound; an accomplished linguist, he
read the Scriptures in nine different languages.

He was an author of note. IIe had held many

positions of trust and eminence in the gift of
the Church, and he had been the president of
two colleges. He felt called to this new repub-
lic, and he offered himself in all the ripeness of
his manhood and crowned with many successes,
for Texas work. On July 25, 1837, he was ap-
appointed Superintendent of the first Methodist
Mission to the then Republic.

He crossed the Sabine on the 23d of the fol-
lowing November, and that night met Rev.
Robert Alexander, who had preceded him only
a few months to their appointed field of labor.
In one of his letters, written soon after entering

* A small pamphlet written by Dr. Mood in 1882, styled, “‘A
narrative of the facts relating to the founding of Southwestern

University” has been freely used in the preparation of this and the
following chapters.

2-22 40
 268 DR. MOOD.

 

upon this work, he says: ‘‘My labors in Texas
will be directed to forming societies and cir-
cuits, establishing schools, and making arrange-
ments for a college or university.”

He went so far, in pursuance of this last idea.
as to solicit donations of land for this enterprise,
and he drew up several articles of a charter to
be laid before the next Congress for their ap-
proval calling the projected | institution Bastrop
University, intending to locate it in the town of
. Bastrop.

He entered upon his new work with an en-
thusiasm and zeal too great for his physical
powers; for before he had labored six months
the imprudent exposures to a strange climate
had their effects; he was attacked by fever, and
died at Washington, Texas, May 16, 1838.

He left the educational idea deeply impressed
on many minds; and immediately after his
death a company was organized, the Ruterville
league of land purchased, and a school started.

In less than two years from the opening of
this school Ruterville College was chartered by
the Congress of Texas and endowed with four
leagues of land. The charter was signed Janu-
ary 25, 1840, eleven months to a day before the
first Conference assembled, showing that the
educational movement in some sense antedated
the Conference organization. Ruterville College
 RUTERVILLE TO SOULE. 269

 

had been founded by the united efforts of the
first Methodists in Texas, and it was a fitting
monument to the great and good man whose
name it bore, as it was intended to be the reali-
zation of his best conception in his new field of
labor. Rev. Chauncy Richardson, a gentleman
who had already made a reputation as a scholar,
an educator and a preacher, was called to the
presidency of this institution.

This college, thus early organized, equipped,
and manned, had every prospect of permanency
and success. Its land grants were added to by -
the liberality of private individuals. It opened
prosperously and for some years lived in a
flourishing condition, doubtless accomplishing
great good.

It is evident from the terms of the charter of
Ruterville College that either very few had any-
thing like an adequate conception of what a
college should be, or else the Members of Con-
gress determined, that so far as they were able,
to control, no sectarian institution of learning
should have even a tolerable existence within
the domain of the new republic. It is probable
that the latter was not the case, for the charter
was granted and was exceedingly liberal in many
respects, still it contained this proviso that,
‘‘The amount of property owned by said Corpo-
ration shall not at any time exceed twenty-five
 270 DR. MOOD.

 

thousand dollars,” and the corporate life was
limited to ‘‘ten years.” The college failed, not
of necessity, it would seem to one carefully
weighing its many advantages against its dis-
advantages, but because those in the lead of the
enterprise yielded too readily to the discourage-
ments, difficulties and disappointments that un-
avoidably arise in every such undertaking. The
church was not held as a unit to this one institu-
tion, but instead of centralizing its efforts to the
support and improvement of Ruterville College,
making it worthy of its name and an honor to
Methodism, we find that it had been in opera-
tion but four years, in fact, it could scarcely
have gotten well to work, but was yet strug-
gling with the difficulties incident to a new
enterprise, when it was proposed to build,
equip, launch and man another college. Thus
the interest of the church was divided, and it
scems from the final disposition of the property
that local influences became more powerful than
connectional control; for on the 6th of August,
1856, Ruterville College, with all of its property,
was consolidated by the Legislature of Texas
with the ‘‘Texas Monumental Association.”
This was done contrary to the express provision
of the original charter, ‘‘That the lands donated
by the State should be applied to education, and
to no other purpose whatever.”
 RUTERVILLE TO SOULE. avi

 

Wesleyan College located at San Augustine
was the second venture of Texas Methodism, its
charter being granted by the Congress of Texas
on January 16, 1844. This institution was estab-
lished on a broader scale than was Ruterville, in
its organization. It had the advantage of more
enlarged views, and the terms of its charter
were far more liberal, than those granted that
institution. Rev. Lester Jones was appointed
President of the College and Rev. N. W. Burks
principal of the preparatory school. To this
new educational enterprise a number of young
people flocked, and everything seemed to indi-
cate permanency and success. For five years
this institution was under the direct patronage
and supervision of the East Texas Conference.
But it gradually succumbed to difficulties and
discouragements, and finally Ichabod was
stamped upon the enterprise.

About the time that these public and more
pretentious institutions were being projected and
organized, an unassuming Methodist preacher,
yet in the prime of life, but whose health had
failed under his arduous ministerial labors,
sought rest in an humble home four miles west
of Clarksville in Red River County. Convenient
to his home was a log cabin and here he opened
a little school with sixteen urchins in attendance.

This modest movement by Rev. J. W. P. Mc-
 272 DR. MOOD.

 

Kenzie, in the fall of 1841, at first scarcely
attracting the attention of the neighborhood,
began from its incipiency a slow and healthy
growth. Its projector had no lofty aim or ex-
tensive plan. He was intent upon honoring God
in the conduct of his school, and bringing all
who were placed in his charge under distinctive
religious influences. By this course the school
made not only reputation, but character. It
grew so surely and rapidly that ‘‘a dozen years
had scarce elapsed when the eye of the state and
adjacent statés and territory was directed thith-
erward for educational purposes. The log cabin
had given place to four large buildings, with a.
capacity for three hundred boarding students.
Itinerant Retreat, as the school was first called,
had become McKenzie College, with professors
and tutors, library and laboratory. For thirty
years this institution prospered, until more than
three thousand students had worshiped at her
altars and sipped at her fountains of learning.
The founder has gone to his reward, the pro-
perty has reverted to the family, and the fruits
of his labors are seen in church and state.”
After the annexation the increczse in popula-
‘lon, and progress in material prosperity, was
marked and rapid. The church made corre-
sponding progress, for the early band of mis-
sionaries had been added to, until there were
 RUTERVILLE TO SOULE. 273

 

two annual conferences within the bounds of
the state. In the lower counties, where flour-
ished the sugar cane and cotton, were many
wealthy Methodists who were anxiously looking
about for the best educational advantages. Mc-
Kenzie College was the only Methodist institu-
tion in Texas where a collegiate education could
be obtained, but it was so far removed from
these centers of wealth and population, that with
the inconveniences of travel in that day it was
practically inaccessible to many. The demand
for an institution of high grade, projected and
controlled by the church, seemed in the minds
of many to have been increased by the failures
of the first attempts. This thought, after due
deliberation was acted upon, and in 1855, a con-
vention of delegates from the boundaries of the
Texas Conference assembled in Chappell Hill to
consider the question, and by its action Soule
University, an entirely new enterprise, was
inaugurated, and shortly afterwards began its
operations under more promising circumstances
than either of its ill-fated predecessors.

This institution, located at Chappell Hill, was
sustained by some of the most enterprising and
wealthy citizens of the state. Its building was
substantial and commodious. Two chairs of
instruction had been handsomely endowed;
nothing of a material character was wanting to
 274 DR. MOOD.

 

‘secure success, and the projectors of the enter-
prise seemed anxious to meet all conditions of
success. The halls were thrown open for students
in 1856, and up to that time, no educational
enterprise of the Church South had been pro-
jected under more favorable auspices. But in
less than four years from the day of its opening
the workings of this institution were interrupted
by the opening of the civil war. The young
men of the South were among the first to volun-
teer for the service, and the President of Soule
University, G. W. Carter, D.D., having secured
the position of colonel in the army, took his
students to the field, leaving the halls of learn-
ing silent and deserted. This building, like
nearly all similar buildings throughout the
South, was converted into a military hospital,
and at the close of the war it was defaced and
dilapidated without furniture, apparatus, en-
dowment, library, faculty or students.

In 1865 its halls were reopened for instruction.
The institution seemed to bein a fair way to
regain its former prosperity when in the fall of
1866 yellow fever made its appearance at the
coast and began spreading to the interior.
Chappell Hill was reached and was swept by the
scourge; professors and students were stricken
down or else fled from the town and the halls of
Soule University were again silent.
 ROTERVILLE 10 SOULE. 275

 

But the trustees were stout-hearted, and they
determined to again renew the effort, so we see
them in 1868 offering the presidency of the Uni-
versity to Rev. F. A. Mood, and the position,
though at first declined, afterwards was accepted
by him.: 2. 24a- tf
 CHAPTER XX.
PRESIDENT SOULE UNIVERSITY.
Mr. Mood reached Chappell Hill November
17th, 1869, and was kindly received at the depot
by Rev. R. W. Kennon, President of the Board
of Trustees of Soule University, and Mr. M.
Northington, Treasurer, to whose house he was
taken. On the day following, the Board of
Trustees, with Rev. R. W. Kennon, as President,
met in full force and by resolution extended to
him a hearty welcome; by farther action they
placed the whole matter in his hands, and then—
they dispersed.
Rev. W. G. Connor, D.D., who had pre-
ceded him to Texas, and who had charge of the
Female College in the town, took Mr. Mood
and family to his own home, and kindly enter-
tained them, in this introduction to his new
work, until he could suit himself in a house and
make all necessary^ arrangements for moving
into it.
That night a heavy rain fell. The next morn-
ing, in sallying forth to examine the surround-
ings of the work which the trustees seemed so
ready to “place entirely in his hands,” he metSOULE UNIVERSITY. , ..........,277
his first discouragement in Texas mud. Strug-
gling on through this difficulty he reached the
university building. It was of rock, large and
rather unsightly. Entering, here was an occa-
sion for dismay: the rain had poured through
the leaky roof, and the water was dripping from
dome to basement, the entire house being dark
and mustyHe now began to realize how much
the trustees had placed in his hands.
The general condition of the town he found to
be about as deplorable as the university build-
ing. Yellow fever had swept away entire fami-
lies, and many others had sought more healthy
locations, in the middle and upper portions of
the state.
Chappel Hill, just at this time, was greatly
depleted. As an illustration of the state of
affairs he had six houses placed at his disposal,
rent free.
He began to look into the history of the edu-
cational movements'of the Church in Texas and
he discovered that every past effort had been
marked by failure—even when begun under the
most flattering prospects of success. In his
correspondence with the Trustees and Bishops,
it seemed to be assumed that Soule University
had been projected and recognized as the
central institution of Methodism for the ssfate.
This assumption was supported neither by the278 DR. MOOD.

 

facts of its establishment nor by the general
sentiments of the Church. The Texas Confer-
ence was the only one that was in any way com-
mitted to its support, and the prejudices against
its location, from the visitations of yellow fever,
rendered the prospeogs of anything like a liberal
patronage from the gtate at large exceedingly
gloomy. “

As soon as Mr. Mood could make all neces-
sary arrangements for settling himself in his
new home, he was compelled to hurry down to
Brenham, to be present at the meeting of the
Texas Conference, of which he was now to be
a member, and which convened November 25,
1868. Bishop Doggett, who presided the year
before at the South Carolina Conference, pre-
sided on this occasion. He knew Mr. Mood’s
status at his old home, and he introduced him
to the Texans, being careful to state that it was
from no discount in South Carolina that he had
been sent to Texas.

He found the Conference a noble band of
‘‘Western Cavaliers,” where towering still
above his fellows was that Nestor of Texas
Methodism, the venerable Robert Alexander,
who along with Thrall and Whipple and DeVil-
biss, and others of their veteran compeers, were
among the few who remained of the-heroic
band that first came to reclaim this vast common,
 SOULE UNIVERSITY. 279

 

wealth, by preaching Jesus and the resurrection.
They came with the early settlers, and contin-
ued their ministrations through the changing
fortunes of their chosen field, under the Lone
Star Republic; under annexation to the United
States; under the stars and bars of the Confed-
eracy, and again under the Union.

Through all the political disturbances, these
intelligent, hardy, self-sacrificing men of God,
had been ‘‘instant in season and out of season.”
‘In all things approving themselves as the
ministers of God, in much patience, in afflic-
tions, in necessities, in distresses, * * * *
in tumults, in labors, in watchings, in fastings;
by pureness, by knowledge, by long-suffering,
hy kindness, by the Holy Ghost, by love un-
feigned, by the word of truth, by the power of
God, by the armor of righteousness on the right
hand and on the left. * * * * As sorrow-
ful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making
many rich; as having nothing, and yet possess.
ing all things.” They were ‘‘strong in the Lord
and in the power of his might” they were yet
wrestling, against sin, and ‘‘spigitual wicked-
ness in high places,” for they had not grown
weary in the service. Theirs was now a blessed
lot; they had planted the Gospel and the Lord
had ‘‘established the work of their hands,” and
they were yet witnessing abundant harvests of
 280	. i * DR. MOOD.
redeemed souls as the fruit of their labors.
The Conference listened patiently and kindly
to all that President Mood had to propose, and
they adopted unanimously the plans submitted
for the revival of their dead University.
Though the action was unanimous, he knew
enough of such bodies to keep in mind, that
resolutions at Conference and active efforts
through the year were two totally different
things. Indeed he found out afterwards that
his new-born zeal for the University was a
source of great merriment to several of the
body, at the close of thaFday’s session, so hope-
less to them was the outlook.
Bishop Doggett, after carefully looking into
the enterprise, and seeing the great work to
be accomplished, said privately to Mr. Mood,
“That in undertaking to resuscitate a dead in-
stitution, he was assuming a more difficult task,
than if he were attempting to found a new one.”
But discouragements did not stop here, for
meeting a majority of the Trustees at Confer-
ence, he submitted to them the estimate of the
tinner, for repairing the roof. This amounted
to one hundred and fifty dollars. They returned
it to him, telling him that they did not have a
dollar in the treasury, and that he might as well
ask for thousands as hundreds.
When the report of the Committee on educa-SOULE UNIVERSITY.	281
tion, came up, a mysterious conversation ensued
on the floor of the Conference which developed
to his horror striken mind, the appalling fact
that a debt aggregating $17,000.00 was hanging
over the old, dilapidated, defaced and leaky
establishment. This was a severe blow to his
spirits, for he had received the idea that the only
redeeming feature of the University was its
entire immunity from debt.
He returned to Chappell Hill, in a very de-
spondent frame of mind, as may be imagined.
Soon after reaching home, he met Capt. Thomas
Smith, formerly from Wadesboro, North Caro-
lina, and whom he had known there in years
gone by. He found in the captain a warm and
sympathizing friend, and a providential help in
this dark hour of distress. The captain divined
the true state of Mr. Mood’s mind and intimated
that he had a desperate enterprise in hand, but
told Mr. Mood to call upon him without reserve,
and that he would give him aid to the extent of
his ability. Accordingly at his request Captain
Smith secured for him a tinners furnace and
about twenty pounds of solder. Meantime, one
of the faculty, Prof. B. E. Chrietzberg, then but
lately from Wofford College, South Carolina,
arrived. So we see the Bev. President and dig-
nified professor sprawling over the roof, with
furnace and soldering irons hunting for holes.282 | DR. MOOD.

 

stopping the leaks, and soldering the parted
seams. They did a good job, for when it was
completed, they found the roof to be rain-proof,
and for years afterwards it did not require a
dollar’s outlay for repairs.

In accordance with advertisements, and cir-
culars sent out, the institution would be opened
for students on Monday, January 2d, 1869.
This new regime would be inaugurated by an
address from the President elect, to the officers
of the institution, the students and the citizens.
He afterwards described the opening as follows:

‘“We went over to the University building at
the appointed hour,- -for the entire staff of
instructors were living in the same house; and
then what?) We found some four trustees, about
ten citizens and some twenty-six little urchins!
‘Here was the enthusiasm of a new opening!
Here were the students we were to send forth to
répresent the ‘‘Great Central Methodist Uni-
versity of Texas.” I gravely delivered my ad-
dress from manuscript, in the great open, cold
chapel, to this overwhelming audience, over-
whelming in its diminutiveness in every sense.
But why be down-hearted? Had we not a big
building? A tight roof? and twenty-six little
boys to begin with? We arranged our classes,
I secured a good sleek strap, which we found
 SOULE UNIVERSITY. 983

 

out on the first day, that we would need. and
started to conduct a University.”

The faculty were given to understand that
they must look to tuition fees alone, for their
salaries, and they had agreed to share in the
failure or success, the growth or decline, of the
University. The money that had been sent by
the trustees to Mr. Mood, for his transportation
to Texas in response to their call, turned out to
be an advance loan to be taken out of the tuition.
This amount, when deducted out of the meagre
income, made it very close living for him to keep
out of debt. He soon fell into routine work,
the first term was, in many respects, irregular,
and it closed without public demonstration in
the following June. As soon as vacation came,
Mr. Mood, with borrowed buggy and mules, set
out to make the acquaintance of Texas, and stir
up patronage. |

His pen was not idle during these months;
though much of his time was occupied by his
professional duties. He ably discussed the lead-
ing topics of the times, and at intervals he gave
his impressions of Texas, writing of the variable
population, the social peculiarities, the prairies,
the mud, and the climate. He thus discourses
of the norther:

‘The unique feature of Texas climatology is
its famed ‘‘northers.” My wife had never heard
 284 DR. MOOD.
of Texas northers, and I shall not soon forget
her look of excitement a few days after reaching
Chappell Hill, when our kind hostess remarked
with some emphasis: ‘I believe a norther is
coming.” ‘‘A what?” exclaimed the newly
arrived, privately confessing to me afterwards,
that she feared something frightful was about.
to occur. That afternoon a stiff norther set in,
and I found my little boy peering through the
north door with the brave trepidation of a child,
his eyes watery from the keen, cold wind.
‘What are you looking at my son?” “I am
looking for the norther.” He was not a little
perplexed when we told him that the norther
had already come, ‘and had gotten in his eyes.
‘“‘What sights and sounds accompanied it.
With a whoop and a roar its stenatorlan_ voice
was heard shouting at the chimney-top. In pip-
ing tones it screamed and shrieked at every
door-crack. In gruff, hoarse, baritone it called
from the house-top. It lisped, and whistled and
muttered, and jabbered at every key-hole. It
growled, and snored, and croaked at every cre-
vice. It wheezed and whiffled, sneezed and
snuffed at every broken window pane. It rolled
and rumbled around the house-corners. It rat-
tled and shook, hammered and rustled at every
window-sash. It snapped, and clashed and banged
and clapped, and crashed at every unfastened
 SOULE UNIVERSITY. 285

 

door fand window. It rushed along, abruptly
knocking off our hats, mischievously tumbling
down rickety fences, ruthlessly upsetting hen-
coops, irreverently uncovering bald-heads, and
ungallantly twirling the ladies in their walks.
The cattle panic-stricken at its paroxysms of
rage fled lowing to the timber; the sheep told
the story of their rough treatment at its hands
in plaintive bleatings; the fowls hasted for shel-
ter from its rude grasp, and the calves and
ponies meekly bowed their heads at its approach
and stood shivering under the lee of houses and
fences.

‘In long drawn sighs it warned us of its com-
ing, in gusty blasts it shouted its arrival; in
tempestuous squalls it screamed its continuance;
in strong opera and hysteric laughter it told its
departure.

‘‘Never have I seen greater activity through-
out all nature than the day old Borers paid us
his first visit in Texas.” Yr hoe

Pe ded & (Perret peg Gad

did

1, we “Qo he . (uf
 2. 92~ 1.

CHAPTER XXII.

A CENTRAL INSTITUTION.

At the opening of the session in September
1869, the enrollment of pupils was increased,
and some ten or twelve students of collegiate
grade were matriculated.

Shortly after the session opened yellow fever
made its appearance in Galveston and extended
to Houston. This was an imminent danger to
the further prosperity of the institution, in the
face of what had occurred at Chappell Hill only
two years before. The minds of the students
were awakened to this danger and their fears
would not be allayed. A few days after the
alarming reports reached them, the stationed
preacher at Brenham came through Chappell
Hill in his hack, and reported that yellow fever
had broken out in Hempstead seven miles
off that he was flying from the pestilence, and
he advised the Faculty and students to do like-
wise. This added to the excitement until it
amounted almost to a panic among the students
and citizens. All of Mr. Mood’s efforts to allay
the alarm of the students proved futile. He
was thrown almost into despair, for just as he
 A CENTRAL INSTITUTION. 287
began to hope for the upbuilding of the Uni-
versity this climacteric disaster came. The day
was spent in great anxiety, the night in sleep-
less vigilance, thinking, praying, almost de-
sponding. His hope and labor appeared in
vain. The epidemic was likely to return with
every year, and with its appearance the work
of instruction must be suspended, for the stu-
dents would disband. No institution that
claimed to be a University, asking for the col-
lecting of the youth from all parts of the state
could succeed in the face of these dreadful in-
terruptions. What was to be done? These
clouds were hanging low over his mind, when
suddenly there flashed upon him a perfectly
clear, and what seemed to be feasible plan for
the establishment of the Institution of Learning,
needed for Methodism in Texas. This concep-
tion grew upon him. He at once began to act
upon this thought, for such was his nature. The
Board of Trustees were immediately called
together, and a paper, addressed to the several
Annual Conferences of the state proposing a
convention for the consideration of the matter,
was submitted to them for their consideration
and adoption.

It was a memorable night October 4, 1869 
a larger number than usual were present. They
met in President Mood’s recitation-room, and
 288 DR. MOOD.

 

after devotional exercises, the President read
his paper with preamble and propositions. It
was a serious moment, big with an important
enterprise. The President urged its adoption
with all the earnestness and eloquence of clear
convictions. The discussion was long, but after
protracted consideration, with but one dissent-
ing voice, the paper was put on record as the
sentiment of the Board.

The report that yellow fever was at Hemp-
stead was contradicted, and the panic subsided.
There was never another day, than the one on
which action was taken, that he could have suc-
ceeded with the Board as he did. This action
sealed the doom of Soule University as the
central institution of Texas Methodism, but it
was the first step towards laying the foundation
of its representative in more desirable and prom-
ising form elsewhere.

Bearing this document, he hastened over to a
camp-meeting near Bryan, to see Dr. Robert
Alexander, the leading spirit in his Conference,
in order to enlist his sympathies and co-opera-
tion. A private interview was secured and the

Y” plans laid before him. The old hero scouted the
movement as visionary, and without qualification
emphatically declared it ‘‘an impossibility to
unite the five Texas Conferences on anything.”
But his convictions were so overmastering that
 A CHNTRAL INSTITUTION. 289
Dr. Alexander’s opinion failed to impress him
to any great extent. He felt that there were
two facts in favor of this effort. First, not a
Methodist institution for the higher education
of male youth, excepting the one of which he
was president, was in existence in the state,
even McKenzie College had about succumbed
to the misfortunes of the war, and the advanced
age and consequent infirmities of its honored
founder. Secondly, there was not a man min-
ister or layman who appeared disposed to
hazard health, fame, and fortune in another at-
tempt to establish one. There was a demand
for such an institution, and there was a grand
monopoly of sacrifice and toil open to the man
who wished to possess it.

Soon after his interview with Dr. Alexander,
he started for Henderson, the seat of the East
Texas Conference, which was to meet October
20, being the first of the Texas Conferences to
convene that year. He had written to Bishop
Wightman, detailing his plans, and invoking
the Bishop’s aid in presenting the matter to the
several Conferences, as he was to preside. The
Bishop wrote him discouragingly, expressing
the opinion that he had overmatched his
strength in attempting to secure the union of
five Western Conferences on. such an important
measure. But it was right along here that Dr.
 290 DR. MOOD.

 

Alexander and Bishop Wightman were at
fault, for as President Mood afterwards said:
“I had not started to measure my strength on
this or any other subject, but, to measure the
strength of simple truth plainly presented, and
accompanied, as I hoped it would be, in answer
to my prayers, by the illuminations and _ convic-
tions of His blessed Spirit.”

Henderson was reached by stage, and though
much fatigued, he at once secured a reading of
the propositions and their reference to the Com-
mittee on education. Meeting the committee in
the afternoon he was greeted with the disagree-
able statement that they ‘‘would not touch it;”
to which he replied confidentially, ““Oh yes you
will,” and proceeded at once to elaborate the
plan and urge the matter. The committee first
became convinced, and then enthusiastic. They
reported favorably on the measure; the enthu-
siasm became infectious and it was heartily and
unanimously adopted by the Conference. This
fired the heart of the good Bishop, who followed
the vote by one of his terse, eloquent and earnest
appeals for zeal and unity in the movement.

The Trinity (North Texas) Conference which
met at Paris, November 3d, passed through
very much the same process; at first, doubtful
of the feasibility of the enterprise, they were re-
luctant to entertain the measure and then heartily
 A CHNTRAL INSTITUTION. 291

 

acquiescing, to be greeted by another earnest
speech from the Bishop. |

At Weatherford, where the North-west Texas
Conference convened November 17th, the ex-
ample of the other Conferences had had its
effect, and when the report came favorably
from the Committee, the Bishop led in an earn-
est speech, and amid much enthusiasm the prop-
ositions were adopted. Next the West Texas
at Goliad, on December 8th, and finally the
Texas, at LaGrange, on December 22d, in turn,
adopted the propositions.

The preamble and: propositions, show how
thoroughly he studied the question, and how
carefully he had weighed every point. After
being amended by the Conferences in a few un-
important particulars they were as follows:

Whereas, It is of vital importance to Southern
Methodism, as well as the general interests of
religion and education in Texas, that there be an
institution of learning, that will, by its endow-
ments, cheapen higher education and by its other
advantages secure general confidence and patron-
age; and

Whereas, Under existing circumstances, from
its heavy cost, many of the most worthy young
men of the state are denied the desired advan-
tages of education; and

Whereas, In the absence of an institution of
 292 DR. MOOD.

 

this character large numbers of the young men
of the Church are being yearly sent out of the
State to secular and sectarian institutions, entail-
ing great loss to the membership and influence
of our Church, besides withdrawing from the
limits of the State large amounts of money that
should be expended in building up education at
home; and

Whereas, The magnitude of the work of es-
tablishing such an institution involves a demand
for patronage and an expenditure for liberal
endowment much greater than can be met by
any single Conference; and

Whereas, Soule University, though originally
projected to meet this great want, has up to this
date, through the calamities of war, and other
untoward events, only partially secured this
end; .and

Whereas, The field being comparatively unoc-
cupied invites to prompt, unselfish, zealous and
liberal effort to meet this great demand that
is now upon the Church; and

Whereas, A union of effort of the thirty thou-
sand Methodists in Texas ought to secure, with-
out possibility of failure, the establishment of
an institution of the highest grade with ample
endowment and the most liberal facilities for
widespread usefulness; therefore

RESOLVED, By this Board, humbly invoking
 A CENTRAL INSTITUTION. 298

 

the guidance and approval of Almighty God,
and with a single eye to His glory, that the
several annual Conferences of the Methodist
Episcopal Church, South, in Texas, be invited
at their ensuing sessions to concur in the follow-

ing
PROPOSITIONS.

1. That an Educational Convention of the
several Conferences of the Methodist Episcopal
Church, South, in Texas, shall be called to meet
at Galveston, April 20th, 1870, consisting of the
delegates elect, lay and clerical, to our ensuing
general Conference.

2. That to this convention, thus constituted,
be committed the duty of arranging for organi-
zation, location and endowment of a University
for the South-west, to be under the patronage
and control of the Conferences of the State, and
such other Conferences as may hereafter desire
to co-operate with them.

3. That the different male institutions organ-
ized or projected under the auspices of our
Church throughout the State be invited to send
deputations to the Convention, to present their
several claims for its consideration.

4. That the delegates from each Conference
proceed immediately upon their appointment, to
invite proposals for the most eligible site within
their bounds.
 294. DR. MOOD.

 

5. That the several Conferences concurring, if
deemed practical, the Bishop appoint an agent,
who shall proceed forthwith to assist in raising
endowment.

6. The convention, as far as practical, arrange
for a homogeneous system of advanced schools
preparatory to the University.

7. That each Conference concurring pledge
its adherence to the action of the Convention,
and its hearty support of its decisions without
reference to personal or local preferences.

8. That in the votes of the Convention upon
location, the delegates vote by Conference, a
majority being required to decide the question.

In the adoption of these propositions the first
great decisive step was successfully taken. The
Providence of God to him, as he made the round
of the Conferences, had been very wonderful.

He started to Henderson with limited means,
but as he passed along, under the interest awak-
ened in his enterprise, and sympathy enlisted in
his cause, without it so much as ever having en-
tered his mind to ask for it, brethren voluntarily
gathered sums of money and handed it to him
to assist in defraying his traveling expenses so
that he was enabled to return home without
incurring any debts.

At the Texas Conference, when the appoint-
ments were read, he was announced as Presi-
 A CENTRAL INSTITUTION. 295

 

dent of Soule University and as pastor of the
Church at Brenham a town ten miles from .
Chappell Hill.

With a-heart full of gratitude to God for His
providences, he returned to his presidency and
pastorate and to await the meeting of the Con-
vention appointed for the following April.

The appointment to the Church at Brenham
brought him relief in the matter of his support,
but greatly increased his labors.

It required study to be prepared to discharge
his professional duties in a satisfactory manner,
and two or three sermons a week to be preached
to an intelligent congregation demanded ad-
ditional application.

He secured a little black pony upon which he
rode to the University on Friday, and as soon
as the exercises of the day were ended he would
start for Brenham, arriving there about dark.
He went at once to’ the Church where he con-
ducted the weekly prayer meeting. Saturday
was devoted to pastoral visiting. He attended
the Sabbath School at nine o’clock the next
morning preached at eleven, and again at
night. After preaching he generally rode back
to Chappell Hill that night so as to be ready for
duty the next morning. Once a month, on
Sunday afternoon, he preached a sermon to the
children they. were always a precious charge
 296 DR. MOOD.

 

to him. Besides these duties he not unfrequently
assisted the preacher in his duties at Chappell
Hill. In a letter written at this time he says:
‘‘My labors are still very severe, but I believe
I never was heartier in my life. I believe that
I have always been healthy when I was so situ-
ated as to observe regular habits of life. We
rise at five, I get over to the University “by
half past eight, return about half past twelve.
I go back at two, am engaged until half past
four, and then I am employed at home.”

On March 28, 1870, the degree of Doctor of
Divinity was conferred on President Mood, by
his Alma Mater, Charleston College.

The proposed Convention assembled pursu-
ant to appointment in Ryland Chapel, Galves-
ton. There were present both lay and clerical
delegates from each of the five Texas Confer-
ences. It was of necessity, under the first prop-
osition, a representative body.

Rev. R. Alexander, D.D., was chosen Presi-
dent, and Rev. F. A. Mood, D.D., Secretary.
Dr. Mood was without doubt the guiding ‘spirit
of the Convention, directing the deliberations
and shaping the action of the body. He found
himself in the minority on more than one
question, but he succeeded eventually in show-
ing himself to be in the right, and thereby in
carrying his every point.
 A CENTRAL INSTITUTION. 297

 

The question of the location of the institution
first engaged the attention of the Convention.
Dr. Mood succeeded in having this question
postponed for future action and the great wis-
dom in this delay soon became apparent. South-
western University, the first name proposed for
the institution, offered by Dr. Mood, was lost.
Then Soule was proposed and also lost. Finally
Texas was proposed, and this name was adopted,
the Committee on Charter being instructed to
call the institution ‘“‘The Texas University.”
The Convention then declared the union of all
the Conferences in the movement, and a liberal
endowment to be indispensable for the establish-
ment of the institution.

Thus the second great step was successfully
taken. Dr. Mood felt no exultation here, for
this action was a forgone conclusion before the
Convention met.

Upon adjournment, Dr. Alexander, who from
the president’s chair had noted the harmonious
action which made the institution now in name
a verity took Dr. Mood back of the Church,
and embracing him, said, with eyes swimming
in tears: ‘‘I never expected to live to see this
day.”

Conference met at Chappell Hill. Bishop
Marvin presided. Dr. Mood was reappointed
as the pastor at Brenham, as well as President
 298 DR. MOOD.

 

of Soule University. The Convention was called
together at Waxahachie in the following April.
It was presided over by Bishop Marvin, who
had remained in Texas. His presidency and
wise counsel proved a benediction to the move-
ment.

Dr. Mood felt his personal connection with
this Convention to be one of the most trying
and responsible occasions of his life.

The effort to locate the proposed institution
at places where it would be embarrassed by
debt, or threatened by disease, with the vague
comprehension of the proposed movement by
the Church at large, compelled him to oppose
location with all the power of persuasion that
he possessed. Waxahachie was laboring to
secure the location, the college there was named
for the president of the Convention, and a
majority of the Convention favored immediate
location at that point. Dr. Mood’s judgment
was against immediate location at any point,
and he followed its dictates, but it was only by
insisting upon the enforcement of the eighth
restrictive rule that the catastrophe of premature
location was prevented. When the vote was
taken it was found that a majority of the dele-
gates were in favor of immediate location at
Waxahachie; but Dr. Mood made a call for the
vote ‘‘by Conference” und defeated Waxahachie.
 A CHNTRAL INSTITUTION. 299

 

Great indignation was felt in the town on ac-
count of his course. While he regretted this, it
did not otherwise affect him, for he had acted
upon his convictions. This feeling extended to
some of the members of the body. Conferring
with one of the leading spirits, he was frankly
told that his motives in the matter were sus.
pected. It was believed that he hoped by pre-
venting location he would tire out the Conven-
tion, and eventually locate the University -at
Chappell Hill, where it was supposed he desired
to go. Therefore at the next day’s session he
proposed that they agree upon limits within
which the University might be safely located,
and he proposed such boundaries that not only
Chappell Hill, but the entire territory of the
Texas Conference was excluded. Dr. Mood by
this means allayed the suspicions of the mem-
bers, and all again worked in harmony. The
Convention, after accomplishing some important
ends, adjourned to meet at Corsicana in the fol-
lowing November.

This year sped rapidly, under the pressure of
much work. He collected money enough to
build a good parsonage at Brenham, and
closed the second year of his pastorate, warmly
attached to that people, all of whom seemed to
reciprocate the feeling.

A matter occurred this year which showed
 300 DR. MOOD.

 

how little his motives and labors in connection
with the University movement were understood
even by the intelligent and influential laymen.
A prominent member of his charge invited Dr.
Mood one day to his private office, where it was
explained to him that certain parties had, at
different times, purchased the liens and other
debts, upon Soule University building the face
value of which aggregated $17,000. They pro-
posed to foreclose.on the property and conduct
it as a private institution. This gentleman then
proposed to Dr. Mood, in behalf of the parties,
that if he would consent to conduct the institu-
tion at Chappell Hill in the interest of private
parties for a definite term of years, that they
would deed to him one-half of the University
and grounds they retaining the other half.
He at once indignantly rejected the proposal,
and proceeded to show the injustice to himself
that was threatened by such a proposition, as
well as the injustice threatened to the Church.
He was dealing with intelligent Christian men,
who after arguing the case with him for some
time, at last yielded to the convictions of simple
truth, and agreed ‘not to push their claims.
Subsequently they were induced to present their
claims canceled, so that just before the final
resignation Dr. Mood was able to show this
property relieved of all liability. By this act
 A OENTRAL INSTITUTION. 301

 

he saved Soule University to the Church, and
prolonged the usefullness of its career under the
auspices of the Methodist Church.

In the meanwhile the attendance of students
upon Soule University was largely increased.
This year there were a number of Collegiate
grade, two of whom entered the Sophomore
Class. They were advanced to the rank of
Junior in 1871, to Senior in 1872, and pradu-
ated in 1873.

The, Convention reassembled at Corsicana,
November 1, 1871, under the presidency of
Bishop Marvin. The wisdom of the delay in
the matter of location was now very apparent.
Some ten places appeared, through represent-
atives or memorials, each presenting its peculiar
claims for the coveted prize, and the values,
now offered as subsidies to secure location
were far in advance of anything that two
years before was thought at all possible to be
secured. Dr. Mood had used every opportunity
to keep the matter constantly before the Con-
ferences and the Church at large, and the in-
creased attendance upon the meetings; the ardor
and earnestness, and in some instances, warm
partisan feelings expressed in the debates,
clearly proved that the matter had now come to
be considered one of singular importance to the
Methodists in the state,
 302 DR. MOOD.

 

At this, which was the final meeting of the
Convention, a proposition of an entirely novel
character was submitted. A company of pros-
perous and active capitalists, all of them Meth-
odists, and a majority of them residents of
Galveston, proposed to form a joint-stock com-
pany, with a capital of $100,000, of which they
were willing to take $50,000, provided the
Methodists of the state would take stock cover-
ing the remaining $50,000. With this amount
they assured the Convention that they could
purchase a large body of land, containing about
20,000 acres, and in every way suitable for the
purposes in hand. . The company was here to
donate ample grounds for college buildings, and
to lay out an ideal University town, every al.
ternate acre in the town, and every alternate
section of 160 acres of the remaining land to be
deeded to the University. They also promised
to erect plain buildings in which operations
might begin, and be comfortably carried on for
ten or fifteen years. They limited the time of
their offer to June 15, 1872, after which, if the
Church had failed to respond to their proposi-
tion, 1t was to be considered null and void.

The proposition was at once accepted by the
Convention, and the gentlemen from whom the
offer came were appointed Commissioners of
Location, with instructions that if the scheme
 A CHNTRAL INSTITUTION. 3038

 

should fail, they were to select from the many
places then asking for the location. In that
event they were to become Trustees of the
property accepted in behalf of the M. E. Church
South, and were empowered to make any and
all arrangements for the opening of the Uni-
versity.

Though the matter was thoroughly advertised,
and agents were sent into the field, when the
fifteenth of June came, only a small part of the
$50,000 had been subscribed by the state at
large, and therefore the proposal was formally
withdrawn.

At the Texas Conference, which met in Gal-
veston about a month after the Convention ad-
journed, Dr. Mood was sent to Chappell Hill
station in answer to a petition to that effect 
also appearing as President of Soule University.

Just after this Conference he was taken sick.
He was a long time confined to his bed. Mean-
while he could hear nothing as to the actions of
the commissioners. Had they lost heart? Had
the movement come to an end with the final ad-
journment of the convention? These questions
were constantly agitating his thoughts. Un-
doubtedly his anxiety of mind about the fate of
the matter had done much towards the consum-
mation and aggravation of his sickness. Of his
recovery he says: ‘‘One day while lying weak
 304 DR. MOOD.

and faint under the slow fever which had fast-
ened itself upon me, I was reading my bible,
when these words were addressed to my heart
with great power; ‘‘Casting all your care upon
Him for he careth for you.” This brought con-
solation, I felt I could and did cast all upon Him,
and next day was pronounced better by the doc-
tor. When the mail came, in the afternoon
there was a letter from Galveston. It came
from the commissioners asking me tocome down
and meet with them, sympathizing with me in
my sickness. I was soon able to travel, and to
my great joy and with gratitude to a merciful
God they proposed to me to pay my traveling
expenses in visiting the different places that
might desire to compete for the location of the
University. In my feeble condition my charge
consented tomy going as I was able to have
my pulpit filled during my absence, and so I set
out for that purpose as well as in the role of
agent, to secure means for the successful open-
ing of the University. I visited a number of
places that presented claims in the movement.
Among them Fairfield, Calvert, Fort Worth,
Waco, Salado, Belton, Austin and Georgetown.
This last place, I urged upon the commissioners
as the most eligible of the competing places. I
persuaded several of them to visit the town,
which confirmed them in my opinion so that
 A CENTRAL INSTITUTION. 305

 

early in the year it was understood unless
material changes came in the offers of other
places, that Georgetown would receive the.
prize.”

Bishop Keener presided in the winter of 1872
over the Texas Conferences, and Dr. Mood made
the round with him, everywhere urging the
claims of the University movement.

At this round, the recommendation of the.
Board of Commissioners of location, naming a
Board of Trustees, to hold and manage the prop-
erty and all fiscal matters, and calling for the
appointment by the Bishop of a Board of Cura-
tors having oversight of the faculty and dis-
ciplinary affairs, was ratified serzatem by each
one of the five Texas Conferences.

By this arrangement all the financial matters
were placed in the hands of capable and experi-
enced laymen, men whose business it is to make,
handle, expend and receive money, the Board
of Curators being chosen from the ministry.
This plan proved a happy solution to the vexed
question of the oversight of property and the
administration of govermental affairs in the
institution: .

A little incident occurred on this round that
is worthy of being related as illustrative of Dr. a
Mood’s fixedness of purpose, decision of char-
acter and promptitude in action. The North-
 DR. MOOD.

 

west Texas Conference was the first to convene.
It: met at Belton, on October 23d. On Friday
afternoon of the Conferenee week, the Bishop
sought a private interview with Dr. Mood, and
proceeded to state to him the wants of the
Church at Waco, and then informed him that he
had determined to transfer him to the North-
west Texas Conference and station him in that
city. Taken by surprise, Dr. Mood said but
little. For particular reasons he felt somewhat
disposed to acquiesce in the arrangement. After
supper, while on their way to Church, upon the
Bishop’s insisting on the proposed transfer, Dr.
Mood presented his objections to being moved,
stating among other things, that he did not see
how he could give the University matter proper
attention, with such a weighty charge as Waco
upon his hands. To this the Bishop replied:
‘(Zo to Waco, and let the University matter
drop.” This remark both alarmed and decided
Dr. Mood. He promised to give a final answer
the next morning, so leaving the Bishop just as
he entered the Church door, he hastened around
to his stopping place, packed his valise, hurried
to the stage office, and reached it just as the
stage was moving out. He secured a seat and
after traveling all night he found himself next
morning some forty-five miles removed from the
Bishop and no telegraphic communication possi-
 A CENTRAL INSTITUTION. 307

 

ble. Upon leaving Belton he had written a note
to be conveyed to the Bishop refusing, under
any circumstances to transfer. Subsequently at
the Texas Conference held at Bryan, he was re-
appointed to Chappell Hill.

The first meeting of the Board of Curators,
for the purpose of electing a regent as well as
looking after other important matters having
reference to the opening of the institution, was
. ordered to be held in Galveston, soon after the
adjournment of the West Texas Conference
which was the last Conference held. From Vic-
toria, the seat of this Conference, Bishop Keener,
Dr. J. B. Mv#errin, Rev. J. W. DeVilbiss, of
the newly appointed curators, and Dr. Mood
started for Galveston to be present at the ap-
pointed meeting. They reached Indianola safely,
but by an irregularity in the packet line they
were delayed there for a week. It was a mem-
orable week to each of the party shut out
from the rest of the world and not only so,
‘“‘because of the present cold and rain.” The
Bishop was a good questioner, a good listener,
and a solid talker; Dr. McFerrin was himself,
the cold, the rain, and the delay could not de-
press his spirits. He with Dr. Mood furnished
the wit, the humor, the anecdote and the repar-
tee for the party, and Rev. J. W. DeVilbiss, a
veteran in the ranks, who was first to bear the
 308 DR. MOOD,

 

banner of Protestantism West of the San
Antonio and Medina rivers, was full of interest-
ing incidents relative to his early Missionary
efforts. No place could make time drag heavily
with such a party.

It was here that Brother DeVilbiss set his
trap to catch Dr. McFerrin, ‘‘to get even with
him,” and caught a Bishop. It happened thus:
Brother DeVilbiss was telling of a trip to St.
Louis, and said in his slow, deliberate way: -
‘‘And there I saw a boy, about eighteen years
of age, one side of whom, commencing with the
top of his head, and then straight on down,
dividing his face and body was black as any
negro you ever saw, and then, too, on that side
the hand and the foot was the hand and foot of
a negro.”

‘“What!” said the Bishop, not giving Dr.
McFerrin time to speak, ‘‘One side of him black
like a negro?”

‘“Yes, sir, as black as any negro you ever
saw.”

‘‘And his hair, was that woolly like a negro’s?”

‘Yes, sir, half of him was in every respect
like a negro.” |

‘‘Well, that was strange, and the other half
was white?”

‘Oh no, it was black too.”

Three of the party laughed, but the Bishop
 A CENTRAL INSTITUTION. 309

 

arose and said, ‘‘Brother Mood, let us take a
walk.”

The Board of Curators met soon after the ar-
rival of this party in Galveston. Bishop Keener
presided, acting as proxy for Rev. Thomas
Stanford of the Northwest Texas Conference,
who could not attend. The prime object of this
meeting was to elect a * Regent and arrange for
the opening of the University; as in the Septem-
ber previous the Commissioners had given no-
tice that the location of the University would be
settled during the coming summer.

On the first ballot Dr. Mood was unanimously
elected Regent, and being summoned, was
kindly notified of the fact by the Bishop, and
requested to take his seat as Curator ex officio.
Bishop Keener confirmed this election December
31, 1872. The Regent was then authorized to
take steps towards securing a corps of in-
structors to be elected at a subsequent meeting
of the Board. It was also left in his hands to
draw up rules and by-laws for the government
of the Curators, to be submitted to them for
their acceptance; and he, and Rev. R. W. Ken-
non were appointed to represent the Curators in

* The word Regent was selected by Dr. Mood because the
office looked to the control of, in a large manner, the other con-
nectional schools of lower grade in the Texas Conferences.. In his
mind there was an ideal system of schools, all working under the
patronage and direction of the Methodist Church, but all working
pogether as a system, with the University its head, and the Regent

ts director.
 310 DR. MOOD.

the preparation of the Charter of the University,
in accordance with the action of the patronizing
Conferences.

Dr. Mood’s election to the Regency was a
foregone conclusion. ‘He had originated the
idea, and had fostered its development against
many discouraging oppositions until it became
areality. Therefore he had every claim on the
position; yet he was by no means certain that
the election would be unanimous.

Bishop Keener’s remark at Belton, advising
him to ‘‘go to Waco and let the University mat-
ter drop,” had compelled him to one of two
conclusions either that the Bishop thought that
he was not the man for the place, or that the
movement would prove a failure, and he had
better abandon it. As the Bishop endorsed him
for the position, he now had the conviction
forced upon him that the Bishop had placed but
a low estimate upon the movement. He there-
fore sought an opportunity and said to him: ‘I
fear you have but little hope for the final suc-
cess of this educational movement.”

‘‘On the contrary,” replied the Bishop, to the
surprise and gratification of Dr. Mood, ‘“‘I have
more hope of it than of any movement of similar
character before attempted in Texas.”

Dr. Mood was rejoiced to hear this expression,
 A CENTRAL INSTITUTION. 311

 

and said, ‘‘You will greatly oblige me by giving
me the grounds for this hope.”

“Oh, sir, simply because you have knocked
all the hurrah out of the movement.”

This simple remark of the Bishop was after-
wards a source of great satisfaction and help to
Dr. Mood. Often when tempted to dspondency
on account of the absence of enthusiasm on the
part of the Church in reference to the Univers-
ity, he has been chided by the recollection that
the hurrah of the crowd is hollow, transient and
comparatively worthless, and that it is only by
tireless, toilsome, patient effort, that permanent
success can be achieved. 2- 22-/
 CHAPTER XXII.
SOUTH-WESTERN UNIVERSITY.

In January 1873, Dr. Mood called a meeting
of the Board of Trustees of Soule University
and tendered to them his resignation as Presi-
dent of that institution.

The Texas University, though it had a name
and a Regent, was as yet without an established
location, and so far as the ken of human sight
could reach, its ultimate success was by no
means assured; but on the contrary, it was beset
by dangers; and was just at that stage where a
false step or an injudicious movement might re-
sult in disaster.

A number of places had entered eagerly into
competition to secure the location, but it was
certain that in failing to secure it, there would
be proportional reaction and indignation. To
locate an institution that must look for its
income, at least for a number of years, from
patronage alone, with some dozen of the promi-
nent places of the state in a position of antago-
nism would be dangerous in the extreme. By
offering a prize it was comparatively easy to
arouse the people to take part in the struggle;
 SOUTH-WESTERN UNIVERSITY. 3138

aa

 

the question now was, how to allay it. This
demanded caution to prevent calamity. The
commissioners gave preference to Georgetown,
but this was known only to them. It now be-
came Dr. Mood’s duty to discourage the other
competing places without discouraging George-
town on the one hand or showing preference for
it on the other. This was a delicate and difficult
task, but in the end it was successfully accom-
plished. One after another of the competing
places began to withdraw. Georgetown hearing
of their action notified the Regent of its intention
to withdrawalso. He hastened to Georgetown,
met the citizens, urged them to be patient 
assured them that the location would be made in
good faith within a specified time,.and further
said that the withdrawal of the other places only
increased the chances of their town. These per-
suasions prevailed. And on August 21st, 1873,
when location. was declared, Georgetown re-
mained the only candidate for the honor, all the
other competing places having voluntarily with-
drawn from the contest. This action then, if it
did not awaken great enthusiasm, aroused no
active opposition.

Immediately after the location of the Univer-
sity was made public, Dr. Mood with his family
moved to Georgetown. His means _ being
limited, and the income from the University by
 314 DR. MOOD.

no means assured, his chances for a support
depending entirely upon the matter of tuition,
 he felt that he could not afford to rent a house,
so with his family he moved into the University
building, and found a home in the two lower
south rooms. This act alone shows with how
much caution and determination he embarked
upon this enterprise. Though to the casual ob-
server the prospects were no more flattering,
and the surroundings were no more comfortable
now than at the time when he landed at Chappell
Hill nearly five years before, still his feelings
were very different. He was not enthusiastic,
but he was hopeful, nay more, he was deter-
mined. He had learned from the experience of
the early efforts in behalf of the University
movement that the Church would not contribute
to the establishment of the University until the
University was established, so that in one sense
the commissioners had nothing to locate when
they located it. But now the movement had ‘‘a
local habitation and. a name;” as subsidy offered
by Georgetown included a plain, but capacious
stone building, containing six large lecture
rooms, and a chapel having capacity to seat over
four hundred persons. Having these accommo-
dations immediately at hand the Regent adver-
tised the opening of the first session for Monday,
October 6th, 1873.
 SOUTH- WESTERN UNIVERSITY. 318

 

In the meanwhile the financial panic, which a
short time before began in New York, had ex-
tended to Texas. Yellow fever, also, made its
appearance in different points of the state. It
was in the face of embarrassments produced by
these causes that the halls of the University
were first opened to students.

On December 13th, 1873, the Curators held
their second meeting in Austin. The exercises
of the University had been conducted by a pro-
visional Faculty; the Board now proceeded to
elect a permanent Faculty. Dr. Mood was
elected nen con. Professor of Mental and Moral
Philosophy. He was also, for the time heing to
have charge of the Schools of L/estory and Eng-
lash Literature. B. KE. Chrietzberg, A.M., was
elected Professor of Mathematics, and H. M.
Reynolds, M.D., was elected Professor of
Spanish. These gentlemen were expected to
give instruction in any other branches than those
mentioned, which in their opinion should be
taught in the institution. Immediately follow-
ing this action of the Curators, the first formal
announcement of the Texas University, contain-
ing the names of the faculty, the schools taught
and the courses of instruction was made in cata-
logue form.

When Dr. Mood reached Georgetown, in Sep-
tember, 1873, he found it but a village numbering
 316 DR. MOOD.

 

perhaps five hundred inhabitants; the nearest
railroad point was seventeen miles distant. At
that time there were fourteen Methodists, resi-
dent in and around Georgetown. It was a
monthly appointment in a circuit of twelve
preaching places. There was no church build-
ing inthe town. The Methodists had neither
class-meeting, prayer-meeting, nor Sunday-
school. On January 11th, 1874, the members
of the Methodist Church were called together in
a Church Conference for the purpose of -organ-
ization. The University Chapel was secured
from the trustees, and thenceforth services,
prayer-meeting, and Sunday-school were con-
ducted weekly.

During this session, thirty-three students of
collegiate grade were matriculated. Small as
was this number there was an unruly element of
sufficient strength and size to keep the faculty
uneasy. These young men were not willing to
adapt themselves to what was to them a new
order of discipline. But it was felt to be very
important, that at the beginning, while the
numbers were small, a proper impress should be
made, which would not he effaced with enlarged
attendunce. Several students who became un-
ruly were dismissed. Fights, in which blood
often flowed freely, were frequent among the
younger members of the institution. This
 SOUTH- WESTERN UNIVERSITY. 317

 

caused Dr. Mood great distress. In conferring,
about: the matter, with Judge , one of the
leading citizens of Georgetown, and who, at
that time, was the District Attorney, he was ad-
vised to turn the young peace-breakers over to the
Jurisdiction of the civil authorities, holding that
students are as amenable to law as any other
class, and that they should not be excused upon
that sentimentality ‘‘because they are college
boys.” Dr. Mood determined to act upon this
advice. Of the two first offenders after this
conversation, one was the son of this legal
friend. As soon as the case came to Dr. Mood’s
ears, he reported it to the officers of the law 
the students were tried and fined. Dr. Mood’s
conduct met with some criticism among a certain
class; a few censuring his course very severely.
Judge was absent from the town, on legal
business at the time, but’ immediately upon his
return, he was waited upon by two or three of
these malcontents who began to sympathise with
him upon the great injustice done his son during
his absence, and to condemn Dr. Mood in the
harshest manner. But the Judge, without
waiting to hear them through, forcibly turned
on the extinguisher, informing these self-ap-
pointed critics that they were interesting them-
selves in matters about which they were not
concerned; that Dr. Mood, in his opinion, had

 

 
 318 DR. MOOD.

 

acted exactly right, for he had acted under his
advice, and if his son had broken any law he
ought to pay the penalty.

The decided stand taken by this gentleman
contributed much towards the maintenance of
good order in the University. It caused such
as were disposed to blame Dr. Mood, to look at
the matter in a different light. And when the
students felt that if they resorted to violence,
they would be carried to the Court House, and
dealt with by the officers of the law, and that
public opinion sanctioned this course, it had a
wonderfully- soothing effect in allaying their
dangerous passions.

In a private letter written early in the follow-
ing summer, Dr. Mood thus speaks of the Uni-
versity:

‘We are nearing the close of our first session
in our new location. It has been eminently
satisfactory. We have students, and those, too,
of representative character, from all the patron-
izing Conferences. We have fully organized
the Collegiate Department. Our grade of schol-
arship has been excellent. Our Church, Sun-
day-School and Bible-Class have all taken form,
and are prosperous. We feel that God has
given us tokens of enlarged and prolonged use-
fulness.”

As there were no graduates, there were no
 SOUTH-WESTERN UNIVERSITY. 319

 

commencement exercises; and a sermon ad-
dressed by the Regent to the students, on Sun-
day morning, July 19, closed the first session.

The next term opened auspiciously. P. C.
Bryce, A.M., was called to the chair of Ancient
Languages. A fine religious feeling developed
during the year, among the students, followed
by several conversions.

Three of the Board of Trustees gave 1,000
acres of land, each, towards a permanent endow-
ment. This, with the subsidy already given by
Georgetown, made the entire property of the
University worth about $60,000; all of which
had been secured to the Church, ‘‘without a
dollar having been demanded of the Church or
a single collection lifted.”

The close of this session showed a measure of
success achieved. The number of students was
almost double that of the preceding term. They
were from twenty-four counties of Texas, with
three from an adjoining state, and their average
age was near eighteen years. These facts show
with how much vigor the enterprise had been
pushed. .

The first commencement exercises of the Uni-
versity were held at the close of this year’s lu-
bors. Rev. J. H. McLean, D.D., of the Trinity
Conference, preached the Commencement ser-
 320 DR. MOOD.

 

mon, and a number of young men graduating in
schools attested progress made.

The institution continued to grow in the con-
fidence of the state at large, and the following
fall, while Bishop McTyeire was making the
round of the five Conferences, he says in a pub-
lished letter: ‘‘I am glad to have the company
of Dr. Mood, Regent of the Texas University.
He will make the rounds of the Texas Confer-
ences, and the institution will profit by it. Dr.
Mood has a ‘‘mission” and nobly is he fulfilling
it. The Texas University scheme has moved
cautiously, wisely, firmly, and is now on solid
ground with a growing patronage, and an in-
tensifying friendship on the part of Texas Meth-
odists and peopie.”

During this year the Faculty was addcd to, by
the election of 5. G. Sanders, A.M., to the chair
of Modern Languages and Book-keeping; and
Rev. N. T. Burks to the chair of Mathematics;
these chairs having become vacant by the resig-
nation of the professors filling them.

It was while living and teaching in the cold,
unceiled rooms of the University, that in the
early spring of 1875, the disease, chronic
bronchitis which ultimately caused his death,
was developed. He struggled heroically against
the inroads of this disease, pressing his labors
with as much energy and assiduity, and per-
 SOUTH-WESTERN UNIVERSITY. 321

 

forming every duty as conscientiously as if he
were in the enjoyment of robust health. Not
very long after this he found a home in more
comfortable quarters than the rooms of the Uni-
versity building, and mm a few years he was
pleasantly and conveniently domiciled in his
own house.

It is neither necessary nor fit, here, to follow
out the progress and development of the Uni-
versity year by year; but there were steps taken
and ends accomplished, which should be men-
tioned.

In 1876, the name, Texas University, under
which the operations of the institution had been
conducted up to that time, was changed to
South-western University, as a charter was re-
fused to any other than a state institution, under
that name.

In the early operations of the University it
was seen that a young ladies’ school at George-
town was inevitable, and the officers thought
best to take it under their control. Accordingly
this new department was opened in a rented
building, September 9th, 1878. The following
year a plain, but commodious building was
erected for its accommodation, and the growth
of the Ladies Annex of South-western Univer-
sity has been parallel with that of the male de-
partment. These two departments, though
 822 DR. MOOD.

 

under the same boards of management and
instruction, are separate and distinct in their
operations only holding a co-ordinate relation-
ship.

In 1881, it was found that the patronage of
the institution had largely outgrown its accom-
modations, and during that year and the year
following, valuable and important improvements
and additions were made to the University
buildings. The last great effort of Dr. Mood’s
life, for the University, was made at the Educa-
tional Convention, held in Georgetown, in
November, 1883, during the session of the
North-west Texas Conference, at that place. In
this work he had the efficient help of Rev. H.
A. Bourland, the Financial Agent of the Univer-
sity, who with Dr. Young, of Nashville, made
stirring appeals to the large audience congre-
gated in the University Chapel. At this meeting
$35,150.00 was subscribed toward the erection of
a suitable building for the Ladies Annex. This
amount, through the labors of the financial
agent, has been largely increased. |

Through the eleven years of labor during
which Dr. Mood was Regent of South-western
University, each session witnessed a gratifying
Increase in patronage; added improvements
about the grounds, buildings, or facilities for
instruction; and a gracious visitation of the
 SOUTH- WESTERN UNIVERSITY. 323

 

Holy Spirit among the students. The advance
was healthy, steady, continuous. Having all
the “hurrah” taken out of the movement at the
beginning, its subsequent course was unmarked
by paroxysms of prosperity, and the depression
that usually follows.

It may be well to count, it is best to weigh.
But the results of this work cannot yet be
weighed. We will therefore give a few figures
setting forth facts from which some estimates
may be drawn.

The first session, three professors served on
small salaries; the twelfth, fifteen instructors
found support.

The first session, thirty-three students were
enrolled; the twelfth, three hundred and sixty-
one.

In 1873, out of thirty-three students, six were
dismissed for bad conduct, in 1884, under the
same discipline, out of three hundred and sixty-
one, only four were expelled from the institu-
tion.

At the close of the first session, but six
students were enrolled as members of the
Church; at the close of the twelfth session, there
were one hundred and twenty church members
among the students.

In 1873, there was but one building. It was
uninclosed, incomplete, unsightly and uncom-
 324 DR. MOOD.

 

fortable. There was neither furniture, museum,
apparatus, nor library. In 1884, there were
well furnished and commodious buildings, an
interesting museum, a valuable apparatus, and
growing libraries; the property was unincum-
bered, the Conferences had agreed to assist in
the support of their institution, and a capable
and earnest financial agent was in the field.
There may be those, who upon visiting the
University in the future, and not being familiar
with the facts of its early history, will pass un-
favorable animadversions upon the compara-
tively limited character of the campus. It
doubtless will seem strange to some that the
movers in this enterprise should have felt con-
tent to have been shut up on eleven acres, when
so much unoccupied land was lying all about
them, and could have been bought at compara-
tively low figures. But Dr. Mood was not con-
tent. He sought the owner of the twenty acres
lying immediately west of the campus and the
land was offered to him for fifty dollars an acre.
He used every honorable means known to him
to secure the money necessary for the purchase,
as he foresaw that the land would rapidly
increase in value. But he failed. The fact is,
that outside of the aid he received here and
there to pay his traveling expenses, not one of
the thousands of Methodists in Texas would
 SOUTH-WESTERN UNIVERSITY. 325

 

hazard a dollar for the establishment of a great
central institution of learning, to be under the
direction and patronage of their own Church.
What was actually procured in the establish-
ment and location of the University, was really
an act of bargain and sale. The commissioners
sold to the citizens of Georgetown, the location
of the University, they paying some sixty thou-
sand dollars in lands, buildings and cash, for the
advantages that would follow to the town, from
the establishment of such an institution among
them.

Dr. Mood in speaking of these early, and often
single-handed struggles says: ‘‘All along here
I am under the deepest obligations to the few
who took me to their hearts and homes, encour-
aged me, and trusted both my motives, and
often my judgment. Of these I must mention
especially the brothers Dudley, Thomas and John
Snyder, and early in the history of the move-
ment, Col. George F. Alford, Rev. W. G. Veal,’
Capt. C. W. Hurley, W. B. Norris and Hon. J.
D. Giddings.”

We can best judge of the great work accom-
plished under the leadership of Dr. Mood when
we compare it with the past efforts of like nature
in the state. From 1840 to 1870, the Methodist.
Church in Texas projected some twelve colleges,
and a university; but after thirty years struggle,
 326 DR. MOOD.

 

she had nothing in the way of permanent opera-
tions to show for the great outlay of men and
money. On the other hand, after the labors of
only eleven years very few of the older Church
institutions in the South could measure up to
South-western University in actual unincumbered
property, in point of numbers, In work accom-
plished and in moral and religious power.

South-western University was founded and
fostered through these twelve years without the
immediate assistance of any of the chief func-
tionaries of the Church, and for the first few
years of its existence, though the Church, at
large, passed resolutions and hurrahed vocifer-
ously over every advance made by their institu-
tion, yet, they offered hardly a pittance, in a
substantial way, to the Regent and Faculty, who
were struggling against many difficulties, for a
noble end, upon meager and insufficient salaries.
Then with what deep, earnest and prayerful
effort, with what intelligent design, with what
unremitting labors, this University must have
been borne on to the present high measure of
success. 2-2/-/¢
 CHAPTER XXIII.
REGENT.

The names Dr. Mood and South-western Uni-
versity, are inseparably connected in Texas.
One cannot be mentioned without suggesting
the other. He, without reserve, without abate-
ment, and not at times without great oppositions
and discouragements, as well as temptations in
other directions, devoted his thoughts, his ener-
gies and enthusiasm for the fifteen riper years
of his life to the establishment and furtherance
of this University. He has been called the Wil-
bur Fisk of Texas Methodism, and he will be
known to posterity as an educator, and as the
founder of a great institution.

The work that he accomplished, during the
first six or seven years of his Regency is marvel-
ous. He, during this time, besides closely
superintending the interests of the University,
preaching regularly, taking a prominent and
leading part in all public enterprises whether
connected with the Church or town, gave in-
struction in three schools, laboring daily above
six hours in the lecture-room and chapel exer-
cises. He filled these chairs with peculiar ac-
 328	DR. MOOD.
eeptability. The hour spent by the student in
his room was always agreeably and profitably
spent. The dryest studies were made delight-
ful, the most ^ikruse became clear and the most
difficult became easy under his exposition and
illustration. The students often remarked the
seemingly inexhaustible fund of anecdote he
possessed. >$He always had one illustrative of
the case in hand. It was always a new one, and
told in his inimitable manner seemed peculiarly
apropos to the point under discussion.
It was touching:, along: here, and more so in
later years, to see him heroically combating his
infirmities, and struggling on against disease
and weakness, meeting his duties so regularly,
so systematically, so cheerfully, and yet as was
apparent at the cost of so much physical effort.
It was the great pleasure of the Faculty to re-
lieve him largely of his professorial duties, dur-
ing the last two years of his life—but he would
not be unemployed—he bent his energies to
other matters connected with the University,
and by being rigidly systematic in all of his
efforts, he found the strength to accomplish sur-
prising results.
Bishop Parker wrote of him in 1883:	“Dr.
Mood, the Regent, is loved and revered by all.
Feeble in health and with a weight of infirmity
that would, send almost any other man into re-REGENT. 329

 

tirement or the grave, he is doing the work of a
giant and laboring with unfaltering courage and
with well-founded hope. The pleasure of the
Lord has ‘prospered in his hands, and the work
of his hands has been established.”

In the beginning, while the movement was
yet small, Dr. Mood thought, planned, and
acted for the Trustees, and Curators, directed
every interest of the University, and shaped the
policy of the Faculty. This was done with so
much judgment, that nothing but harmony pre-
vailed in all of the deliberations of these several
boards. By his Faculty he was deeply beloved,
with them his opinion carried the greatest
weight. He impressed them with his methods,
and his policy, until there was a unity im all
action. While he was wise in council, he was
prompt in execution. As a disciplinarian he
was a positive character; courageous, yet kind;
decided, yet merciful. The students all honored
and revered him. They could not do otherwise.
He possessed a peculiar tact of keeping up with,
and detecting the leaders in all college mischief.
The method of government proceeded upon the
assumption of the integrity and honor of every
student; this he constantly kept before them.
The resuit was, the best of order generally pre-
vailed. When the law was transcended, his
tongue was a terror to the evil-doer, for the
 330 DR. ILOOD.

 

lecture that was sure to follow the misdemeanor,
was withering in sarcasm, invective and repri-
mand. He spared neither words of com-
mendation to the studious and orderly, nor
words of condemnation to the idle and unruly.
Many incidents could be related aptly illustrat-
ing his intuition, his tact, his decision of charac-
ter and his promptitude in action; but one, a
well remembered circumstance in the history of
South-western University, will be sufficient.

On the first day of April, 1880, some seventy
of the students, by a previous written agree-
ment, gathered in the campus at the ringing of
the bell announcing the hour of assemblage for
duty, formed in procession, and at the tapping
of a drum marched from the grounds and were
absent all day. It developed by investigation
that the matter originated in a desire for fun.
Dr. Mood, subsequently, in the chapel, set forth
at some length, the character of the affair as the
Faculty were compelled to view it, particularly
dwelling upon its unbecoming nature, and its
defiance of government, in uniting in written
compact to contravene the authority of the
faculty.

As no movement, in response to this presenta-
tion of the matter, was voluntarily made by the
students, disclaiming unlawful intentions on
their part, Dr. Mood laid before them a paper,
 REGENT.   | 331

 

saying that he demanded the signature of no
one, but that if, after their acquaintance with
the views and feelings of the Faculty, they felt
prompted to append their names the Faculty
would be gratified. The paper read as follows:
‘‘The undersigned, connected with the transac-
tion of April 1st, hereby express their regret
thereat, disclaim intentional disrespect to the
Faculty and will hereafter discountenance similar
demonstrations in the institution.”

About twenty signed this declaration during
the day leaving about fifty students remaining
in the attitude of rebellion to the government of
the University. It was well known to the
faculty that the spirit of misrule had been intro-
duced some months before by several students
coming to South-western University, from
another institution. The spirit had been spread-
ing and gaining strength, constantly showing
itself in a more and more aggravated form. For
this reason the faculty viewed the whole affair
ina much more serious light than what they
might otherwise have done. It had a meaning
to them that it did not have to the public. Dr.
Mood, on the following evening saw each mem-
ber of the faculty, and final action was decided
upon. On the next morning the names of the
students who yet appeared in the attitude of
Ansubordination were called, and each oneasked if
 332 DR. MOOD.

 

the paper lying on the desk represented his sen-
timents. Upon answering no, his name was
stricken from the roll, and each, in turn was
required to retire from the building and the
campus, aS no longer connected with the Uni-
versity. It was a very painful scene to the
faculty, and the deepest excitement prevailed
among the students, as one after another stood
up m his place, answered in the negative, and
walked from the chapel amid the intense silence
of the occasion for the eagle eye of Dr. Mood
held them all in abeyance, so that there were no
outbursts, nor a single disorderly word or act.

About fifty names were erased from the roll.
The dismissal of so large a body of students
naturally awakened great interest in the com-
munity, some denouncing and many sustaining
the course of the Faculty.

One of the leading citizens, who was known
to be a warm friend and supporter of the insti-
tution, called on Dr. Mood, for the purpose, if
possible, of adjusting the difference between the
students and the Faculty. He argued with Dr.
Mood that it was customary, in colleges, in
cases of insubordination, to expel only the most
prominent among the leaders, that that was
thought sufficient, and asked why that poiicy
could not be followed in this case. Dr. Mood
replied, that by their subsequent action each
 REGENT. 333

 

student was alike guilty, for each one had been
separately approached, and had refused the
terms offered by the Faculty, and there was
nothing left them but expulsion. But, contin-
ued the gentlemen, we must not be too hard on
the rebels, you and I were lately rebels, and if
the judgment you mete had been meted out to
us, we might have swung from ‘‘sour apple
trees.” Then, you must remember, that this
institution is entirely dependent on patronage
for its support. If you dismiss this large body
of students, you will make them and_ their
friends your enemies, and it must materially
affect the income. You have invited a Faculty
here to assist in giving instruction, will it be
judicious will it be treating them right to turn
this patronage away? I know you are indepen-
dent of patronage, you can live on faith in the
future as you have done in the past, but what
will become of these professors?”

Dr. Mood replied that these questions could
not be entertained. ‘That it was no foolish
demand they were making, to vindicate wounded
dignity, it was simply an unavoidable vindica-
tion of necessary authority. The question at
issue was: ‘‘Shall the faculty or students rule?”
And it was very important to settle this question
thus early in the history of the institution.

The gentleman saw that Dr. Mood was inflex-
 304 DR. MOOD.

 

ible in his course. He determined therefore to
labor with the other party. It was not difficult
to get a number of the leading citizens to inter-
est themselves in the matter. The dismissed
students were invited to an interview, and the
~ subject was freely discussed. After more reflec-
tion the students thought an apology was due
the Faculty. Subsequently a’'Committee of the
citizens, consisting of Hon. T. P. Hughes, Hon.
D. 8. Chessher, and Mr. J. W. Hodges called
upon the faculty and presented the following
paper that had been voluntarily signed by the
dismissed students: ‘‘We the undersigned, do
hereby express our regret that our action on the
first day of April has offended the Faculty of
South-western University, and we do hercby
promise, as gentlemen, to discountenance in
future any similar demonstrations, while we are
connected with the institution.”

Other papers were presented to the Faculty
“respectfully beseeching the leniency of the
Faculty.” In response to these papers, the
Faculty promptly agreed to restore the names
of the dismissed students, to the roll; they re-
turned at once to duty, and from that time on,
the best of order and attention to study ob-
tained.

Not least in Dr. Mood’s labors, as Regent,
stand his successful efforts for South-western
 REGENT. 835

 

University on the floors, and in the committee-
rooms of the Texas Annual Conferences. He
gave its progress, and presented its claims con-
stantly through the press mainly through the
Texas Christean Advocate he spoke of it from
the pulpit and the rostrum; but, it was with the
Conferences particularly, that he delighted to
labor, for there he had reaped the most encour-
aging and gratifying results. Besides, he was
working with, and for, them; though in differ-
ent departments of Church work all were striv-
ing together for the same high and noble pur-
pose.

From his first round, made with Bishop
Wightman in 1869, he had the confidence of all
the preachers because they saw that he was
working only for the furtherance of Christ’s
Kingdom. Having this confidence in the man,
they had confidence in, and sympathy for his
work. They accepted his statements, and when
he said that South-western University was their
University, they believed it they felt it, they
became interested in it and worked for it. Here
a great work had been done for them as well as
giving them the opportunity to do a great work.
They had an interest in common that had been
made a bond of union, an interest that had been
established without jealousy or controversy.
Dr. Mood was the leader of Christian Education
 336 DR. MOOD.

 

in the state. He was recognized as such through-
out the connection, and as such he was appointed
as a delegate to the First Ecumenical Methodist
Conference which convened in City Road Chapel,
London, in September 1881. Though quite
feeble at this time, he undertook and miade the
long trip. Dr. I. G. John, one of Dr. Mood’s
warmest personal friends, also being a delegate
to this Conference, was his traveling companion.
They made a pleasant journey together. The
voyage across the Atlantic was made in remark-
ably good time, and they were at once ushered
into the World of Methodists. Here Dr. Mood
found some of his friends of his former visits,
and his communion with the representatives of
the twenty-eight branches of Methodism, com-
ing from every quarter of the globe was delight-
ful to him in the extreme. He took an active
part in the proceedings, and by appointment
he delivered the ‘‘invited address” on ‘‘The
Higher Education Demanded by the Necessities
of the Church in our Time,” making a masterly
appeal for the moral and spiritual in higher
education.

On this, his last visit to England, his health
was too feeble to allow him to go to many
places of interest even had his time been more
fully at his disposal; but he could not forego the
pleasure of stopping by in Oxford, while on his
 REGENT.   337

 

way from Liverpool to London,   looking
through those venerable piles consecrated to
learning. and seeing something of the workings
of the great University there. He took especial
interest in Lincoln College, for here John Wes-
ley had been a fellow, and Greek lecturer. He
was shown Mr. Wesley’s pulpit, his bed-room,
and he was given a leaf from the vine that clam-
bers by the window of his study. Here was the
birth-place of Methodism, for from these heavy
arched portals the Wesleys went forth to duty
with such exactness, regularity, and conscien-
tiousness that they were approbriously branded,
‘Methodists. ” |

He returned home somewhat benefitted in
health and brought back with him mementoes
of the occasion, and a warm fraternal feeling for
his brethren in the various branches of Meth-
odism. .

The leading principles that controlled Dr.
Mood, in his management of South-western Uni-
versity, as its Regent, were as follows:

1. It is the function of the University as an
institution of the Church to use all proper
means to refine the manners, protect the morals,
improve the hearts of the young people, and
lead them to Christ. He labored and prayed
that, ‘the rising generation might be wiser,
better, purer, more patriotic and more devoted to
 338 DR. MOOD.
God and duty than any that had gone on before.”

2. The institution should bear a decided char-
acter for benevolence, turning away no stu-
dent on account of his impecuniosity, who ex-
hibited a sincere purpose to secure an education.

3. The institution should antagonize no other
institution church or secular. While claiming
the position assigned it by the voluntary and
unanimous act of the Texas Conferences, as their
representative institution for advanced learn-
ing a hearty ‘‘God speed” was always accorded
to all laboring in the same cause.

4. It was held, that in all things connected
with the University, character was supreme. He
subordinated its management in no way to any
effort to acquire notoriety or secure members.
Both of these he recognized as desirable, but if
obtained at the sacrifice of character, could only
be ruinous. He looked constantly to the main-
tenance of that punctuality, thoroughness, and
solid advancement which would establish a
character for honest and successful work.

He trusted God in all things, and of himself
as Regent he said: ‘I have felt as if I were
only a blind child led by the hand of a merciful
father who has guided the matter to his own >
glory. I have had but one object in my labors
in this connection, it has been to serve God in
the promotion of the kingdom of his Son. I
 REGENT. 339

 

have humbly invoked divine grace to enable me
to keep my ‘‘eye single.” Under this endeavor
I have felt my whole body full of light; and
have never despaired or felt seriously discour-
aged. I have always confidently felt that if the
movement deserved success, God would bless it
and give it success, and he has done so.”

While, as an educator, Dr. Mood will be
especially remembered by posterity, yet a brief
synopsis of his qualities of head and heart which
went to qualify him for, and which were orna-
ments to him in his high position would be
eminently proper in this connection.

He was a many-sided man. In all relations
of life he was a scholarly, retined and elegant
gentleman. In the parlor, at the dinner-table,
in public.or in private he was invariably the
central figure. His conversational powers were
of the richest and rarest order. It has been said
of Coleridge that ‘‘he talked like an angel and
did nothing at all.” Dr. Mood, excelling in
conversational powers, was a man of affairs.
He saw clearly, decided matters rapidly, was
quick to plan, and bold to execute. Besides
the practical bent to his genius, as his life and
labors have shown, he possessed great versatility
of powers. As a speaker, he was clear, concise,
argumentative, strong and pleasing. He was
always ready, and always original. As a writer
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he was facile, forcible, humorous, and entertain-
ing. His favorite theme was Christian Educa-
tion in its various relations and bearings, and he
discussed this subject with great cogency. As
a preacher, he was devoted to the work and to
the Church. In the pulpit he was clear in ex-
position, close in analysis, and most fruitful and
felicitous in illustration and elaboration. In the
last years of his life he was seldom able to

- preach, but even then, though weak and lung-

worn, and though his discourse was constantly
interrupted by a hectic cough, he always drew
large congregations,‘and bore them along with
him upon the irresistgble wing of his eloquence.

As a Christian he whs a bright and shining
light. ‘It is well said in every sense” remarks
Carlyle in his ‘‘Hero-Worship,” ‘‘that a man’s
religion is the chief fact with regard to him.”
Dr. Mood was constantly in the atmosphere of
piety. A short while before his death he wrote:
‘““My early experiences were clear, decisive,
rapturous. Through the forty years of struggle
heavenward since then, there has been sensible
erowth. In these years I have been thrice called
to face the solemnities of death as was sup-
posed by friends and physicians. In each
instance I was able to say, ‘‘for me to live is
Christ, to die is gain.” But as life is reviewed
and my heart examined I am obliged to exclaim

 
 REGENT. 341

 

with Joshua, ‘“There remaineth very much land
to be possessed.” ‘There are still unconquered
tempers, the risings of sinful desire, and with
each approach to the mercy-seat I am compelled
to cry, ‘‘God, be merciful to mea sinner.” If
saved at last I feel with Mr. Wesley that I am.
‘‘a brand plucked from the burning.” Iam prone
to say, ‘‘Not as though I had already attained,
either were already perfect, * * * * but
this one thing I do, forgetting those things
which are behind, and reaching forth unto those
things which are before, I press toward the mark
for the prize.”

One of his students said of him: ‘There was
a beautiful harmony between his life and teach-
ings, the one a practical illustration of the other.
If he urged upon the boys decision of character,
they saw in him an impressive illustration. If
he commended moral courage as the prime ele-
ment of heroism, they saw in his manner of
meeting duties and issues, anexample worthy of
imitation. If he urged as the necessary ele-
ments of success, a worthy object to be attained
and earnestness and constancy in its pursuit, his
work and success in founding and fostering the
University was a fitting example. But I need
not enumerate, for he practiced every virtue
which he commended, and was an example of
every precept which he taught.” @- @I- 9%
 CHAPTER XXIV.
THE CLOSE.

Dr. Adam Clarke says: ‘‘A minister is im-
mortal until his work is done.” This truth was
exemplified in the life of Dr. Mood. His days
seemed to be providentially prolonged until
South-western University was no longer depend-
ent upon the life of any one man.

At the commencement of 1877, he submitted
his resignation as Regent to the Board of Cura-
tors, feeling that he had but a few weeks to live,
and asked for the election of a successor. They
refused to accept his resignation. Bishop Dog-
gett, Dr. Robert Alexander, Rev. B. D. Dashiel,
each addressed the Board in reference to the
matter. Rev. R. W. Kennon presided on the
occasion, but to the astonishment of himself and
his friends he outlived them all. Through all
these years his health was so delicate that he
could hardly claim a well grounded hope for
another day of added life. For some months
before his death it was painfully apparent that
even he, who had struggled so long against
disease could not hold out much longer. In
May, 1884, he wrote to his brother, ‘‘I do not
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THE CLOSE. 343

 

allude much to my health in my letters, my
condition, though subject to variations, remains
on an average about the same, of course, year
by year marking a lower average as age, and the
increase of the effects of the disease are“liscern-
able. JI am now attending to all my duties
regularly, though I cough much, and can do
anything better than stand or walk. The recent
meeting here resulted in forty-three conversions
 nearly all among the students; I preached
once sitting on atable. I can preach very com-
fortably that way, and can do it here, where I
am at home, without embarrassment.” :
At the regular meeting of the Board of Cura-
tors in June 1884, at his instance, a resolution was
passed, providing, that in the event of the death
or resignation of the Regent, the Faculty were
instructed to elect one of their number chair-
man, who should administer the affairs of the
University until the Board of Curators elect a
Regent.
Dr. Mood spent some weeks of the vacation
that followed in visiting some of the Eastern
colleges. At the opening of the next session,
on Monday, September the 8th, the Faculty
were called together, and Rev. J. H. McLean,
D.D., was elected Chairman, Dr. Mood prefer-
ring that this step should be taken, anticipating,
as he was free to state either absence or death
 344 DR. MOOD.

 

on his part. He spoke of his approaching death
as a certainty, and with a calmness that evi-
denced his thorough preparation and readiness
for the event.

Shortly after the institution had entered regu-
larly upon the year’s work. He was called to
San Antonio to be present at the Annual Meet-
ing of the West Texas Conference. Here he
was energetic in laboring for the University,
and delivered an address on Education. This
effort with subsequent exposure brought on a
cold, and he returned to Georgetown suffering
considerably from it. On November 5, in com-
pany with Bishop McTyeire, he left George-
town for Waco, the seat of the North-west Texas
Conference, of which body he was a member.
Among others, his pastor, Rev. A. A. Allison
approached him and said: ‘‘Brother Mood, I
fear you are too feeble to go to Conference.”

He replied, ‘‘My brother, I am doing the
work of God. I am in his hands, and all is well
whether I live or die.”

He went through much of the routine of Con-
ference work, and on Friday night he delivered
the annual address on Education. Rev. H. A.
Bourland, who was with him, has kindly fur-
nished us his recollections of this last speech, as

well as the account of interesting events that
followed:
 THE CLOSE. 345

‘“In extreme feebleness he arose, and support-
ing himself upon his staff, he said: ‘‘Mr. Presi-
dent, I have spoken so often at the Texas Con-
ferences upon the topic assigned to this occasion
that I really fear you will grow weary with the
repeated story, but, sir, we need to repeat it
again and again.

‘‘When I was a student at college there was
given an exhibition of trained canary birds.
These birds were taught to march and counter-
march, to wheel out miniature cannon, and put
them in position, and, at a given signal, to fire
at each other. Some fell as if wounded and
some as dead. The living brought out little
wheel-barrows and loaded the disabled into
them, and wheeled them away to hospitals. It
seemed wonderful to me that canary birds could
be so trained. I have known dogs to be taught
some very clever tricks. They have perception,
memory, and affection. If you are going down
the street and drive back your dog, he will re-
member some hole in the back fence, and will
creep through it, and when you reach your des-
tination, he is there. Horses and elephants are
susceptible of training. I read recently of an
elephant taught to fish, and he became very
fond of it, too. Some days ago I was in San
Antonio and visited the United States barracks.
It was parade day. Three hundred trained men
 346 DR. MOOD.

 

marched to martial music upon the grounds;
three hundred feet were lifted at the same mo-
ment; six hundred hands were raised together;
six hundred hands came to rest together. They
wheeled to the right, to the left; marched for-
ward at command. But, Mr. President, is this
all of education? Then what better is a man
than a canary bird? What better than a dog,
or a horse, or an elephant? they do the same.
Has education no higher aim, no wider scope
than this? I was inacity not long ago, and
visited the public schools. The superintendent
was very kind, and took me toa large room
where several hundred children were gathered.
They were called to their feet and proceeded to
go through calisthenic exercises. At the close
he turned to me with a satisfied air and asked,
‘‘What do you think of that?” ‘Oh, that is very
pretty,” said I, ‘‘very prety!” ‘Why, sir, we
punish a child more severly for failing in the
figures of this exercise than we do for failure in
its recitations.” Is this the idea of education?
Then I repeat it, the child is no better than a
canary bird, or a dog, or a horse, or an ele-
phant.

‘The mind must be trained as well as the
body. The perceptions must be cultivated to
take in nature. God has given us intellect,
sensibility, will these must all be trained. But
 THE CLOSE. 347
we have moral natures, too, that must be
trained, and any system of education which
ignores the conscience is defective, is worthless.

‘‘Mr. President, the Church is committed to
higher education. ‘Oh,” says one, ‘“‘why not
let the state educate?” Because the heart must
be educated as well as the head. The opera-
tions of grace reverse the operations of nature.
Water flows down and seeks its level, but the
blessings of the Gospel begin with the humble
poor and reach upward to the wealthy and the
worldly wise. So we need the Gospel in the
common schools, for out of this primary school
is to come the student for our University, and
the scholar from the halls of the University
where God is honored goes back to bless the
children. The South-western University has not
appealed to the public for money heretofore.
We sought first to make character, to give you
an institution worthy of your patronage. We
have only laid the foundations; the superstruct-
ure must yet be erected; but we are rejoiced to
believe it has reached a point where its existence
does not depend upon the life of any one man.”

‘These as I remember are the main points
that he brought forward, and much of it his exact
language. The speech ended, Dr. Mood returned
to his room to die to die with his armor on.
The night was a restless one to him; the lungs
 348 DR. MOOD.

 

were closing up; his respiration was difficult,
and it seemed he could not live to see another
morning. But with the morning came some
respite, enough to encourage hope, and he took
a little nourishment. On Sunday morning he
seemed cheerful; and all went to church except
myself. He requested me to read some selec-
tions from St. John’s Gospel, and pray. Before
these brief exercises were over, violent parox-
ysms came upon him, and ob how he suffered.
At the close of one of these he said: ‘‘Blessed
Savior give me rest.” I said, ‘‘Doctor you suf-
fer greatly.” He replied, ‘‘Oh yes, but it is all
necessary to subdue my stubborn heart.” Later
he asked, ‘‘Have I any pulse?” ‘‘Yes sir, but
very feeble, I trust doctor you have the presence
of your Savior.” He replied, ‘‘Yes, I am very
unworthy, but I trust in the all-prevailing merits
of my adorable Savior.” Again, he said: ‘‘I
am a great sinner, but Christ saves me.”

Through the day his sufferings were extreme,
but the comforting presence of the Savior was
with him. Among his last utterances was a
verse omitted from one of our hymns in the
later editions:

Give joy or grief, give ease or pain,
Take life or friends away,

But let me find them all again
In that eternal day.
 THE CLOSE. 349

 

‘‘He said but little more, his testimony had
been borne in a life of singular purity and
nothing farther was necessary. He had dwelt
so long in the shadow of death that it had no
terror to him.

‘‘He remarked in April preceding his death,
on our way to Nashville, that he knew his end
was near. He felt that his lungs were almost
gone. ‘‘I can feel,” said he, ‘‘the breathing
surface diminishing constantly. I do not ex-
press myself thus to my family, knowing it
would distress them.” And he talked as calmly
about dying as he would about a visit to see his
friends. I was not with him at the supreme
moment, but understood, he said but little-more
about dying than is here recorded.

‘In that sea of glass, which spreads out before
the throne of God, an emblem -of the Divine
omniscience, his good deeds are mirrored for-
ever. We think no other man has so profoundly
impressed Methodist circles in Texas, and go
where you will, his memory lingers as sweetest
perfume in the homes of our people.”

He died November 12th, 1884. On the morn-
ing following his death, memorial services were
held in the Methodist Church at Waco, in which
a number of prominent ministers took part, and
eloquent tributes were paid to his memory by
Rev. A. A. Allison, Dr. R. C. Burleson, and
 300 DR. MOOD.

 

 

Rev. M. H. Wells. His remains were conveyed
to Georgetown under a suitable escort, and the
final funeral ceremonies were conducted in the
University Chapel in the afternoon of November
14th. A number of visiting ministers assisted
in these services. The funeral discourse was de-
livered by Rev. J. H. McLean, D.D. His text
was taken from Matt. 10 39: ‘He that loseth
his life for my sake, shall find it.” He was
most happy in the selection of his text, applying
it to the life and labors of Dr. Mood, and speak-
ing with peculiar power and effectiveness. The
spacious chapel was crowded, the scene was one,
the impressiveness and solemnity of which could
not be surpassed; and there was not a dry eye
in the large body of his students, as they filed
past his bier to take a last look at their departed
friend. His body was laid to rest in the College
Campus, a few feet north of the Chapel, and as
the light of a beautiful day was softening into
twilight the last service was concluded.

He leaves a wife, with five sons and four
daughters, and the legacy of a highly honored
name, a spotless character, and a well-spent life.

It was his privilege to realize that the institu-
tion which he had founded amid difficulties and
discouragements, in weakness and in. pain, had
reached a point in its history ,‘‘where it was not
dependent upon the life of any one man,” and
 THE CLOSE. 351

 e

 

ye

no doubt, but that at times he was led to Pis-
gah’s heights where through the. eye of faith he
was permitted to behold the work of his hands
established the Canaan of his hopes a blessing
to the youth of coming generations.

Shortly after his death, steps were taken by a
number of his former students, looking to the
erection of a suitable monument over his re-
mains. At the following Commencement of the
University, The Mood Monumental Association
was organized; and plans were there inaugurated
which have resulted in closing the contract for
a massive granite monument that is to sentinel
his last resting-place. The inscription which it
will bear, and which is given on the following
page, is from the pen of his friend and co-

laborer, Rev. J. H. McLean, D.D. a - 2/- (Yb

a
 352 DR. MOOD.

 

[FRONT OR WEST SIDE. ]

FOUNDER AND First REGENT
OF
SoutrH-WESTERN UNIVERSITY.

Elected Regent, Dec. 21, 1872.
Entered upon his duties, Oct. 6, 1873.

MOOD.
[SouTH SIDE. ]

In memory of our honored and _ beloved
Regent Rev. F. A. Mood, D.D., a faithful
counselor, an able minister and instructor, a
model Christian and gentleman, a friend and
benefactor of the youth.

Affectionately inscribed by
His STupEnts.
[NORTH SIDE. ]

Baptized in infancy, professed religion and
joined the Church in early youth. Licensed to
exhort by the M. E. Church South, in 1848.
Licensed to preach in 1849. Graduated from
Charleston College, and entered the 8. C. Con-
ference in 1850. Elected President of Soule
University and transferred to the Texas Con-
ference in 1868. Delegate to the Ecumenical
Conference in London, Eng., in 1881.

[East SIDE. ]
Francis Aspury Moop.
Born in Charleston, 8. C., June 23, 1830.
Died in Waco, Texas, Nov. 12, 1884.
Aged 54 years, 4 months, and 19 days.

‘‘He that loseth his life for my sake shall
find it.”
 LD Cody
5142.65 The life and labors of
-M6C6 Francis Asbury Mood.

SOUTHWEST TEXAS
STATE COLLEGE LIBRARY
SAN MARCOS, TEXAS

Library rules are necessary in order that the
Library may be of the greatest use to the largst
number of patrons. The rules will be posted in
conspicuous places in the library and borrowers
are asked to keep themselves informed as to the
tne for returning books, fines for overdue books,
etc.

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