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It is counted an author's privilege to dedicate his work to any whose advantage the work is especially meant to promote, or whose approval he would reckon especially honorable and gratifying. This book is designed fcr those who have none too much time for reading. The roun.l of daily engagements and the stern .struggles for a living, the imperious call to ' which we are born and bound to obey, leave us for literature only a little more t,me than is needed for a decent acquaintance with things now pas- sing. Nor can we, when the summons of business is satisfied, easily com- mand the energy of mind needed for the effort of deep and careful study • unless the matter before us is offered briefly clearly and agreeably, we soon' become weary, and our grasp of it relaxes. Yet there are many thing, wind, we would like to know, and which we can but think we ought fo One of these is the Historic Course of Methodism : Its Rise, Progress and Present Position. If we are Methodists, this is to us a matter soLar and important that to know nothing of it, and to be strangers to the men who have appeared in it, is hardly respectable. If we are not Methodists should sfll interest us to know how some five and one-half millions of active and spiritual Protestants came to the organism in which to-day tll7J7 '' 7° '" "'° ™"" '"' ""' """^'^g^' --" "- it in a fauhful but easy and fresh presenting, the author dedicates his work for with such he is in perfect sympathy. /^ $3^5(> f^urBuisf^Ep'5' A.,NJM©u^IeE]y]BJM^^. (Revised and Enlarged Edition.) With profound gratitude to the members and friends of all branches of Methodism and to the general reader, for their generous patronage ; and to the Bishops, College Presitlents, Editors, Missionaries, Pastors, and others for the hearty commendation given the first edition, the publish- ers take pleasure in presenting a thoroughly revised, an enlarged, and more fully illustrated edition of The Story of Methodism. Every page has been re-examined with diligent care and all state- ments verified with the original authorities, the latest knowledge given, and the number of chapters increased from fifty-six to sixty-two. Two hundred and eighty new illustrations appear. The late Geo. John Stevenson, of London, England, was engaged to furnish subjects for illustrations, and during the summer of 1887, G. W. Edmondson, made a camera tour of the footsteps of John Wesley. As the result of their researches, we are able to present the most complete line of portraits and other illustrations of Methodism in England and her Colonies, that have yet been published. By research among historical collections, by correspondence and travel, and from foreign missionaries, the portraits and subjects for illustra- tion of Methodism in America, and American missions have been gathered. The revision is complete. Every page has been reset in new, clear and compact type, increasing by nearly one quarter the contents of each page, and about fifty pages are added. Other new and valuable features of the revision cannot be described here, and reference must be had to the work itself. In the labor and expense of revision and enlargement, the publishers have endeavored to merit a continuance of the liberal patronage bestowed, by faithfully laboring to meet the wants of enlightened and cultivated readers. t I •KB t 4 j I t 4- ^mrJii^ ^0. 'iV ■vljs colli- :::•• -.W 1 .■(:,■1;^.!v^:^;..,^.K,AkHi.i«!<^;-,;JJ,^-^,^*^:^,.^. {IUX8 •^ -O [ u>r r, TO THE STORY /sea OF METHODISM THROUGHOUT THE WORLD4"i I Jv!A ^ Par,. FROM THE BEGINNING TO THE PRES TRACING THE '^•'T'^'^ — ^-— -;;-• ~""~-\\ RISE AND PROGRESS OF THAT Wonderful Religious Movement, WHICH, LIKI', THE GULF STREAM, Has sincn lUarmflt to lEIiike inters an5 Verdure to mang i:nttO$; AND (;IVING AN ACCOUNT OF ITS VARIOUS INFLUENCES AND INSTITUTIONS OF TO-DAY. BY A. B. HVOK, D. D., ' rofessor of Greek in the University of Peiacr; Member o/ American Philological Assocro tion ; of America)! Society of liilittcal Exegesis ; of Summer School of I'hitosophy, etc. ; lately I'rofesior of lUhlical Uierature, Allegheny College, Pa. Ururig irCustratcftt Boiilscft mid lEnCatQed^ 1 okoNid, Canaha : KUSK i'L'liLlSHINC; COMPANY. >s I' li I N <; !•■ 1 V. I, I), Al A s.s. : <> N<^Ticr. IS iiKRKRY ciVKN bv tlic publishers that the sale of this book, THE Story of Methodism, by subscription only, is protecteil by decisions of the U. S. (.'ircuit (.'ourts. 'i'hesu decisions are by the U. S. I'ircuit Court of Ohio, rendered by yudf,'e Hammond, and by the U. S. Circuit Court of Pennsylvania, rendered by Jud^e liutler, and are tiiat "when a subscriptinn Iiook pul)lisliin}; house, in connection with the author elects to sell a bo()j< pnrch bv s/ifiscripfioii and ifois so scil it, through agents that are agents in the tribal scitse a.m\ not iiiicpcnJciit purchasers o^ \.\\i:. books, the house and author are entitled to the protection of the Courts as against any book-seller who invades their rights by attenijitnig to buy and sell a book so ]iublished and sold." IIknck this is to notU'V you that all our agents are under contract, as our agents, to sell this bonk by subscriplicm only. They have no right whatever to sell it in any are furnishe damages when they hook, knowing it is scription. IS HIKF.HVC.IVEN that this book can be iTifallibly identified wherever found, and the detection of the jKrson selling this book to the trade, and the offering of it fur sale bv a book-seller, \\ill he swift and sure, and summary proceedings against both book-seller and agent ^\■ill be instituted. Wk TKisi' \( ir will reeei\e this notice in the kindlv s]iirit in \\hich it is given, as it is made to inform honorable merchants and others who ha\e heretofore benight sub- scription books in ignorance of the juiblisher-.' and authors' rights, as well as to protect ourselves and author, and cuir agents against infringements ■\viiich discourage them, and rob us of the Icgitinuite fruits of our labor and investnu-nt. .\<;fms and all other persons are particularly reciuc^ted to inform us at once of the offering of this book for sale by any book-seller or iHlier person not our accredited agent. Kiucred according to Act of Congrt'ss. ill December of the year i.SS.S, hy A. \\. HvnK, in the Office of the T.iltrarian of Con- gress, at A\'ashington, I). ('. T'-ntered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1888, l)y .\. \\. HvDK, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Wash- ington. 1). C. pyntered accf)r(iing to Act of Congress, in tlie year 1887, by A. IS. HvuK. in the Office of the [,il)rarian of Congress, at Wash- ington, T). C. f i '.^ ^c ,> PpEFACE. t T.% M,.:t„od,sm has been a fact in the world for now about a hundred and fifty year. The name Methodist is borne by about five and one- haif n„ll,„ns of people. It is believed that these are not half the people that to-day feel the influence of the great religious movement that we call Methodism. For this was a revival of Christianity, such as had not been seen in all its centuries. Of such a revival there should be a tale to tell, and this is the task we set to ourselves A story is a little dilferent from a history. The latter is properly a 'full labored and careful presentation of a given line of facts in their relations o cause and effect, of time, place and order. A story has less of dignity perhaps less of precision. It proposes to entertain while it instructs ; to give not all that is knowable, but that which most men would care to know History ,s for study. A story is for easy reading and telling ; a s.orJ ought not to be tedious with detail. It must leave many things unsaid, and many ot erU,mgs that seem unsaid must melt and mingle with the current 01 the tale. One may easily believe that Methodism has no. lacked for historians They have g.ven the lives of its chief characters, and accounts of its vari- ous enterprises and events, until it may be said that the writer of to-day can say nothing new which is also tnie, and nothing true which is also new. Ihere ,s almost nothing in this Story which some one else has not .n some way already told. There can be no originality in fact, but only in style and order of statement. ' The writer has for fifty years been a carefiil observer of Methodism, and fairly acquainted with its prominent characters. He has conversed wth ancients who had listened to Wesley. He has read widely, and the re, :rr:rtts'c™ ^ "'""^ ^'"•"''-"^— --"'^^ tell ii^rhfo" '? "7 "'f '° """"' " " ""' ''"' ■<"«■ " -" -"'d tell tt at h,s own fireside. I„ these later days, so wide have the activity PREFACE. and enterprise of Methodism become that . f i, already fills many volumes In X r f '''°'"" "' ''' ''°'"«' is -PH and woLeir w ; :::'^^•^^^"-■^^""'^--"=•p"«- lage, near F„h Chan .hatta ' "' "' '"^ "' '" »''- "'" - or three vHla^es^llnlirsL^: ^-^^ '" "^ '' --"■ Preachin,, What vohnne can tell a„ thes' thL;' "" ""^^ ^"''°'"^' ■■^ "ot divKled, and the ^^ ':^T '"":'""'"' -'"« *- ChrisI It is, however. Relieved that th^ n / V™ "'''' '° """^ ™"<^-? all Christian people. '^"" ""' ""''"''^ "' ^^^*y have helped and Z!::TZ:^::Z :™V.^^ -'^ --eya„ preache,.. product of Methodism. ' ™''' ^' " ""^^1 and lawftU w^at ""<^z::i:;:;:::;;'T """"^ ^"-^ --'^ -- CHnstianity^ncethed^LCZsr T '""^'' ™°™"-' '" "ess to transactions which serionslv 7 '"'°"" "> S-e life and fresh- *e interest of many a ho!,etld ' "^ '"""" '""'• ^"^ '°-- - ;>'^^: r cLt : nr r '"^^ ~^^° - -» -■- shall lengthen this one, and shaH ZT'. k "™ *^' *^ ^tory that a.^ agree we., with thl. :hi:hl::te;LMr ^"^^"^ ^^^ >^^- 'Hey University of Denver, 1888. I P « #> I I THE STORY IN ENGLAND. <^ f CHAPTER I The Origin of Methodism, Life at Oxford, Pages, . 17—46 CHAPTER H. • . 47—82 CHAPTER HI. Headway OF Methodism ; Whitefield's Separation, 83—96 CHAPTER IV. The Countess of Huntingdon, CHAPTER V. The Heroic Times, CHAPTER VI. Battles and Victories, CHAPTER VII. The First Conference, . CHAPTER VIII. Methodism in Ireland, . CHAPTER IX. Whitefield Once More, CHAPTER X. Opinions and Economics, . 97 — 102 103 — 120 121 — 126 127 — 140 141— 149 150—152 153—157 158—162 CHAPTER XI. Progress in Ireland, ^ ,, CHAPTER XII. The Next Ten Years in England, 1750-1760, 163—177 CHAPTER XIII. Calvinistic Methodism, 178—190 « P 14 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XIV. The Calvinistic Controversy, CHAPTER XV. Wesley's Later Work, . CHAPTER XVI. Wesleyan Methodism Grows, PageB. 191 — 205 206 — 220 221 — 230 231—252 253—262 CHAPTER XVII. Wesley's Old Age and Death, CHAPTER XVIII. Weslev and His Institutions, CHAPTER XIX. Education and Literature at Wesley's Death, 263—272 CHAPTER XX. Methodism Enters France, .... 273—279 CHAPTER XXI. After the Death of Wesley, . . . 280—288 CHAPTER XXII. Some Methodist Women.— The Village Black- smith, CHAPTER XXIII. At the Beginning of this Century, CHAPTER XXIV. Methodism and the State Church, CHAPTER XXV. Wesleyanism Abroad, CHAPTER XXVI. Wesleyan Educational Work, *^* 289 — 294 295—301 302—318 319—338 339—346 THE STORY IN AMERICA. CHAPTER XXVII. First Things, . CHAPTER XXVIII. Regular Work Begun, CHAPTER XXIX. First Things and Rising Heroes, 349—360 361—370 371—378 Y-:t tiii • n COxNTENTS. CHAPTER XXX. Up to the Revolution, . In the Revolution, Forming a Church, CHAPTER XXXI. • • • CHAPTER XXXII. CHAPTER XXXIII. Doctrines and Institutes, CHAPTER XXXIV. To THE End of the Century, CHAPTER XXXV. Schisms — Eminent Characters, CHAPTER XXXVI. The Wild West and Canada, CHAPTER XXXVII. Persons and Incidents, . CHAPTER XXXVIII. Some Men— The West— Two General Confer- ences, CHAPTER XXXIX. Men and Doings in the South, CHAPTER XL. Men and Doings in the North, . CHAPTER XLI. Legt-jLation and Usage, .... CHAPTER XLII. The Methodist Protestant Church, CHAPTER XLIII. Lay Delegation and the Pacific Coast, CHAPTER XLIV. The Methodist Episcopal Church, South, CHAPTER XLV. Methodism among the Indians and Mormons, CHAPTER XLVI. Methodism in Africa IS Pages. 379—384 385—403 404 412 413—418 419—431 432—442 443—450 451—462 463—470 471—480 481-508 509—516 5 1 7— 524 525—534 535—550 SSI— 560 S6i— 573 i6 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XLVII. METHODISM IN CHINA AND JAPAN, . CHAPTER XLVIII. Methodism in India, • • • * ' CHAPTER XLIX. METHODISM IN SOUTH AND Sl'ANISH AMERICA. CHAPTER L. METHODISM IN EUROPE, . • • ' * CHAPTER LI. FREE METHODISM AND SOME CHANGE OF USAGE, CHAPTER LII. METHODIST Literature, . • • • * CHAPTER LIII. METHODISM AMONG THE FREEDMEN, . • • CHAPTER LIV. METHODIST BENEVOLENCES, • • ' * CHAPTER LV. Methodist Bishops, .•••'' CHAPTER LVI. Bishops of the M. E. Church, South, . • CHAPTER LVII. bishops of the AFRICAN M. E. church. . CHAPTER LVIII. . CHAPTER LIX. . • Recent Evangelists, Chautauqua, Ocean Grove, . CHAPTER LXI. The General Conference of 1888. CHAPTER LX. . • • • Future Methodism, . CHAPTER LXII. . Pages. 574—596 597—618 619 — 634 635—658 659 — 666 667—676 677—684 685—702 703—750 751—765 766—775 776—793 794 — 808 809—815 816—823 824—827 CLASSIFIED INDEX. Pages. 574—596 597—618 619 — 634 635—658 659 — 666 667—676 677—684 685—702 703—750 751—765 766—775 776—793 794 — 808 809—815 816—823 824—827 CHAPTKR I. The Orkjix of Mkth ODISM. TIIIXK of Methodism as confined to a branch of the (General It .^ Church would be wronL'- \\V/rvV'-' " \ i was not so confined at its be- ginnint^r. It introduced to the world no new ccclesiasti- ■ ~'^'!^ cal nistitute, but a newness of life; not a new formula of doctrines, but a fresh and full experience, under doctrines accepted from the be<,rinnincr. the simple foundation doctrines on which Christ.amt)- itself was restin-. The word Methodism was only an old term revived, and not one newlv coined. There had been, a<,^es earlier, a school of physicians u'ho discarded observa- tion and held to the pure deductions of reason and lo^ic They took the name of Methodist,, conveyin- thereby thei; strict ad- herence to loc^ical processes. Their success in practice is not reported ; their school was not lon<,r-lived. When, now, in 1729, John Wesley, leading half a dozen young gentlemen at Oxford University, began to read the New Testa- ment in Greek and to try to conform their ideas and their be- havior most strictly to the same, a young gentleman of Christ Church College called out: "Here is a new set of Methodists sprung up ! The new, quaint name found instant currency and the "set" were known as Methodists all over the University l8 TIIK S'I'ORV ol' Nir.riI- ! " had been, like the histor\' of English politics, a tak) of strife. ICsi)eciall\' had the last two centuries, since Henr\- \TII.had broken from Rome, been a period of constant struggle. T'rotestant and Romanist, Prelatist and Independent, had fiercel\- fought for existence, or for mastery. The fair fields of ICngland had been stained with English blood by English hands ; the fresh air had been tainted with the smell of human sacrifices in fires of luiglish kindling. All this stir of the pangs and passions of the heart was ruinous to piet\'. Not but there were instances of religious character in those troublous times. Personal de\otion was often pure and % TIIK ORIC.IX OF Mil IIolMsM. 19 |)f such uslinc lirs bc- kc ihc lad the Rome, hianist, I, or for .1 with Itaintccl indlinL^. [to VIS to .ctcr in re and I '.fe if 3 perfect, and such (li\incs as B.ixtir, H.urow, Owen and llouc wi-rc stars of tlic first niai^nitudi' in tlu' upper sk)- of the faith. Net the shockin;^ iinmoraht)' of the Court of Charles II. coin- cided with the teaching' of I lobbes in blaid< infulelil)-, and popu- lari/in;4 of ideas of " Natural Relij^ion," nearlx' with that of the " noble sa\aLje." l''ashionable society becanic- fri\'olous and \-ile', as the dramas of ConL;re\e antl other fuorite writers show. y\t the eiul of the seventeenth centur\- hav^land was on the wa\' to a rejection of Christianity from all tin- circles of fashion, learning and nobilit)". As Hp. Hutler sa\'s, " Christianitv' seems at length to ha\e been found out to be fictitious." Then followed a train f)f deists Ue lltV W ■as at first a i HENRY FIKI.DING. product of the I^n<^lish disbelief. When Rousseau antl Voltaire arose, there was a reaction, and scoffs and sneers from I'rance Wert; cautrht and repeated in I'Lntfland. Ai^ainst this evil .stream the best of I'^nf^lish literature offered a feeble barrier. ^Vddison, Swift, Gra)- and Thomson, and the ievers, were too Lrenial, too little in earnest liKe. th emscK'es bel to ser\-e as reformers. The)' spoke pleasantl)' for the truth; the)- told of the \anit)' of the world ; the)' L;ave fair but far-awa)' \iews of the excellence of piet)', but the)' had no temper for the stern task of reform. They shrank from social exile ; the)' felt no 20 'lilK SI'oRV or Mi:i lloDISM. call to hear the apostolic cross; thc\' ditl not covet the risk of martx'rdoiii. Revi\'al could not come from ///ul)j(et of my man)- sferet inotirnin_L,rs." And tlii>, he proceeds at tull K'n-lh t.> d<.. 1 )r. Walts, the >\veel ni.iiiiiiful poet. speaUs ot the L;eneral deca\ (f \ital religion, and call> tor the usin|4 of all elturts lor the recov'erv of dyni^; i'eli'_;ion ill the wcrld. We read from another: "Almost all vital rt'lii^ion is lost out of tlu' world." Another tells ns : "All that is rcstrictively Christian is banished and despised." One \-ear before the rise of Methotlism, Seeker. Archbishop of Canterbur)-. wrote: "Chris- tianit}- is ridiculed with ver)- little reserve, and the teachers of it WILLIAM AND MARY, KING ANDgUKEN OF KNGLAND. witli none at all." Of tiiis Southex' sa\-s : "The cler<'\- had lost all authorit)' ; the)- iiad also lost respect," and Hurnct had said that the clcri;}' of l^nt;iand were under more contempt than those of an\- Church in luiroiie. O^ the Independent Churches a writer of their own sa\'s that their piet}' was to i)e found " nowhere but in their books." Tithes were paid : the dignities, the architect- ure of the Church were maintained ; but there were no missions, no diffusion of Scripture, no Sunda)"-schools. no social mectin^L;"s. As Archbishop LeiL;hton said: "The Church had come to be a ' fair carcass.' " " We start, for life is wantini;- there ! " Xe\er in all the histor\- of the Church was a time when the ott-(iuoted word of St. AuL;ustine became more impressi\-e : " Man's !! 22 TIIK SIORV OF MKTlioDlSM. I I extremity is God's opportunit\'." The chill and the ^loom were settling on J'^nginnd ; Voltaire and his like were poisoning i^'raPice ; and Frederick of Prussia, with the Rationalists, was desolating the Faith in the very home of LiiLiicr. But the Providence that reared and trained Moses was preparing a man — many men and women — to rescue His Church and bring upon the world the new Evangelism. f;iir and flush as the morning. Epworth, a rural village on the levels of Lincolnshire, the jr. Ml home of some two thousand people, had little charm of site or surroundings. In the of the ICn- Revolution of I 6 S 8, w h i c h fixed anew the Protestant gr;^ P\iith in England, Mr. p!i ^»i' I Nit/---'.', .^►ift^'-'^nfl fJM-:^ struggles glisn ' L l'\:'^'^^^^ ^'^ '1 rn u e 1 Wesley, a ' t^ f .5^ ii^^ '^^ ' ) "^ £.-^'«ilii^» ^'[)worth. Of JOHN wKsii.KV AND THK BISHOP. this obscure xillage he became rector in 16(^7, and so remained for more than 39 }-ears. Mis grandfather, Bartholomew Wesley, a clergyman who had, at Oxford, studied medicine, became a Puritan. At the Restoration he was exiled from his [)eople, the h^ive-mile Act forbidding him to come within fixe miles of those whom he had served. He then lived b\' his medical profession, taking without murmur his afflictions. His son John, father of the rector of PLpworth, drank a cup Tin: OKICIX ol- MKl'lloDISM, 21 xn were ;''rai-ice ; tin^ the ice that len and the new lire, the Tie two pie, had f site or In the the Ign- ition of : h fixed 'rotestant and, Mr. esley. a man, who red pre- c would f to the mes and . was the in favor vl Mary, ledicated , and she with the orth. Of lillat^e he ly) years. |() had, at storation |)rl)iddinL^ |cl served, murmur ik a cup of like affliction. From his studies at O.xford he went, during Cromwell's protectorate, abroad. On his return he was called before the Bishop of Bristol to answer 'ior preaching without ordination. He had been preaching to seamen and, as occasion had offered, in the rural districts. The Bishops warned him that he must preach no more until ordained after the order of the Church. Westley argued his own conscious call to serve both as a lay-preacher and as an itinerant, as he liad been doing. He held that his inward con\ ictions were con- WHITE-CHUKCH, WIN I ERBOURNE-FRO.M A RECKNT PHOTOORAPH. This was the church I'f John Wesley's grandfather "John," and at ihi^. vill.ige, Samnel, Jdhn Wes- ley's father, was burn. firmed by gracious results attending his labors. The Bishop's ap[)eal was lost. " Vou will stand to your principles, you say?" " I inte.id it through the grace of God." The Bishop understood his mettle. " I will not meddle with \-ou," said he. " I'^irewell to >-()U, sir," replii-tl Mr. Westlew " l''arewell, good Mr. We.^vle}-," mildl>- responded the i)relatc. Mr. W estle\- was soon in prison for his la\--preaching. He would not take the oath to conform to t'lo Braver Book and to ■z^j&T' 24 THE STORV OF METHODISM, I) n the Cliurch, ihoui^h he had the example of many who, taking; it, rcscr\-ecl in mind the rli^ht to construe it. He would npt so jug- gle with his conscience. He was dri\'en from place to place; he was fined; he was four times imprisoned, once for half a year. He and his famil)' li\-ed b}- the contributions of churches which the law forbade him to scr\e. His life of persecution, toil, and suffering, was brief In 1668, at the age of fort\--two, he had filled up his measure of the sufferings of his Lord and entered into rest, before the death of his gra}'-haired, sorrowing father, Barthol- omew. The vicar, of Presto n, where he d i e d, f o r bade his burial in the church, but his grave is in the c h u r c h - y a r d , though no stone has ever marked the place. No truer servant of Christ ever went from a fight of afflictions into the h e a v e n 1 y peace. All this trouble came of his opposition to the Book of Com- mon Prayer. It is strange that a book SAMUEL WESLEY. ^'^ ^^"^^'ch SO many find help and blessing should be rejected by a man so devout, with persistence even unto death, but one can hardl\' walk the ground where his ashes lie unmarked, without .' tender thought for a good and brave man who went down in suffering for conscience's sake. His grandsons were of like unflinching temi)er. Of his four sons. Matthew, Samuel, Timothy and George, Matthew, the eldest. l)ecanie a successful physician. Samuel in- tended to become a Dissenting clergyman, but, rather than approve of the beheading of Charles I., he returned to the I^stab- lished Church. Timothx' marrietl in luigland and George went to America as a school-master. One daughter, Klizabeth, married THE ORIGIN OF METHODISM. 25 cing it, so jug- icc; he a year. ^ which oil, and he had red into Barthol- ^•icar, of here he I d e his church, /e is in -yard, tone has he place. ;rvant of •cnt from afflictions a V e n 1 y trouble pposition of C om- it is a book |iiany find ■out, with c (Tround lor a - ; his lifc-loni; health was equal to the execution of liis THE oKKilX OF MKTHoi )ISM. 29 25 O a z o a. 3 72 a <: o OS • aw 33 wBv i Ui ranee ample (,)f his heart's desires. The author of Robinson Crusoe has left an ele^y telling the perfection of his character. Baxter, Calamy and the other non-conformists accountetl him a " Second Paul," " an Israel- ite indeed." Cromwell set him hi^h amoni^ his " men of reliij;ion " and the Countess of Anglesea, his kinswoman, dying, wished burial in his grave. Still more touching is the voice of one of his suffering brethren at his funeral: "O how many places had sat in darkness, ho.v many ministers had been starved, if Ur. An- nesley had died thirty years since ! " What a contrast in living men did England show ! Such a man was contemporary with Charles' court, with Congreve's c o m e d y, with Swift's misanthro- phy and Bolingbroke's atheism ! His daughters in- herited his personal beauty and the freedom and energ\- of his mind. Before she was thirteen, Susanna had for herself studied the great controversy be- tween the Church and the Dissenters, and calmly and openly took the side of the Church. Her noble father saw the opinions, for which Mrs. Susanna wesley. he had toiled and suffered, rejected in his own house. He stifled all regret, and all beneath his roof were of one loving heart, and his devout but decided daughter was to his affections fully as dear as ever. At twenty, when married, she was well educated. Without any striking display of genius, enough is left of her let- ters and her life to show that she was the peer of Lady Montagu, the first English woman of the period, if not in brilliancy, still in breadth, clearness and power. More than one of her biographers speaks of her personal beauty. Sir Peter Lely, the famous court-painter of Charles, I ji The above portrait is inserted because it has been generally published as the portrait of Mrs. Susanna Wesley. Geo. John Stevenson says; " It is not .Susanna Wesley, it is the portrait of Lady Rudd, the secoml wife of Mr. Gwynne. brother nf Mrs. Chas. Wesley. This fact I had from Miv, S.arah Wesley, rl.iughlcr f f Mrs C has. Wesley. I send you her correct portrait. TIIK ORKJIX OK MKlIloDISM. 31 Isusanna Wesley. Icoiiil wife of Mr. Ir-, C luis. Wesley. has s are not yet all gathered. Under its thatched s>t roof were a large hall, a parlor, a " buttery," three large chambers, some smaller rooms, and a study. This last \vas the rector's own. Here he wrote his ser- mons and wasted ( ?) his hours in rhymes, " that found him poor at first and kept him so." Over all the rest of the house his wife was ruler. She managed outside affairs also, the incomes and ex- penditures. Her son John long afterwards speaks of her as writing, conversing, being all business, with thirteen children around her. Her training of these children was peculiar. It was systematic, logical, " methodical," as she in later days rehearsed it to her son. The first three months were to be spent by the infant mostly in sleep ; it was then laid in the cradle awake, rocked to sleep and rocked until its waking. This was to fix the time of sleeping, which, being at first three hours in the morning and three in the EPWORTH PARSONAGE. rAsitis.) TIIK oRKilN OF MKI lln| )ISM. 33 afternoon, was gradually reduced until sleep in the day-time was no lon^^er needed. At one year it was tau^dit to " cry softly," and "the odious noise of crying children" was rarely heard in the quiet house. None ate or drank between meals unless in sick- ness, which was rare. At eiijht in the evening they went to their rooms antl of themselves fell asleep unattended. Mrs. Wesley held that " both precept and example will be ineffectual " un- less the will of the child be subdued. " Theti a child is governed by tlie reason and piety of its parents until its own have taken root and matured." The children were taught, at prayer and at table-grace, the gestures of religion before they could kneel or speak. No study was allowed until the child was five years old, but then it began in earnest. No one was allowed to enter the room where the young novice was being initiated into the mystery of the ali)habet. Six hours were allotted for learning it, and be- tween nine and twelve of the morning, and two and five of the afternoon, of the first day : and of all the family only two required a da\- and a half. The next task — as with Hebrew students — was to spell and read a chapter in Genesis, and to do it perfectly. Such entrance upon education was straight, clean and vigorous. She early began their religious training. When eight of her children were now of reasonable years, she said: "I discourse every night with each child by itself on something that relates to its principal concerns. On Monday I talk with Molley ; on Tues- day with Hetty; Wednesday with Nancy ; Thursday with Jacky\ h'riday with Patty ; Saturday with Charles ; and with Emily and Suk\' on Sunday." No wonder Thursday became " Jacky's " Sundav in the middle of the week ! There was no afternoon service at Epworth church, and never an evening service. Mrs. Wesley thought she could use the time well, her husband being then at convocation in London and his place filled by a curate, in giving to her own family some religious discourse and counsel. Others heard of it and begged to come in and soon forty were present. The thing grew. Soon she was reading " the best and most awakening sermons we had " to gatherings of over two hundred. The kitchen in which she held these services could not hold more than fifty persons and the rest stood outside with the windows open. Her husband feared this 3 34 TlIK SIDKV (IF Mi:i'll( »|)I.sM. ! I <\ novelty as an invasion of cluircli order. He proposed that " some other person " — i c, not a woman, officiate. She writes to him at London: "And where is the harm of this? I do not thini< one man amonj; them could read without spelling a yood part of it; and how would that edify the rest?" ] ler boys could read, but their tiny voices could not reach so many hearers. While her hu.sband hesitated, the f,Mtherin^s grew to be larl' Mi:ril< >I)I>M, 35 0( the ten children wlio canu- tt) adult >'ears, fwc became noted for rare and brilliant entlownients, Samuel was the eldest son, and was consecrated "as Heaven's b)- an inalienable ri^ht," as his noble motiier told him. I-'rom his birth, l''el). lO. 1690, ho was thought of defective mind, for he ditl not speak until just five years, lie then burst out and answencl correct!)' a ([uestion put in his presence concernint^ himself to a servant. After i:)ein^ at school in Westminster, he went, at seventeen, to Oxford, where his lar.L;e and ardent mind overfU»wed the limits of the University routine, and he earl)' became known in t^eneral scholarship. lie was a Tory, and, usin^^ his wit aLjainst Walpole, that minister (ihslructed his advancement, alletjjin^' as a reason his marriage. This was his oc .asion of an ele<^ant poem to his wife, gloryinj^ in the "error" and refusing to reijjret it. His poetical jjjifts were fine. It is stran<;e how poetry, which tluir father was ever vainly attempting;, and which their mother ignored, was wonderfuU)' honored in the children. To Samuel wf owe some of our best hymns: "The mornintf flowers display tb.cir sweets;" "The Lord of Sabbaths let us praise;" "Hail. I'ather, whose creating call." This eldest brf)ther was too strict a lliL;h Churchman and too unbending a Tory to approve the course of his younger brothers. Of this, however, he lived to see but little. After twent)'-seven years' service as teacher, being .It the time Head Master of the school at Tiverton, he ended a life of toil, integrity and love, a month before his brother, in I.oiulon, formed the first of the United Societies, December 27, 1739, the first distinct phase of Methodism as an Institute. He was not quite fifty years of age. The daughters of the family were not below their brothers in gifts and graces. There was Susanna — Mrs. h^llison — " very facetious and a little romantic;" and Mary, deformed, but full of liuniility and goodness, whose exquisite face revealed a mind ahnost angelic. Keziah, crossed in lo\-e. was of too vigorous souse to sink under the trial. She chose to live " disengaged from the world," and, though solicited to marr)', she felt unable " to discharge a wife's great dutv as she ought." She died un- married in 1741. Mehetable was unfortunately married, and pined in neglect and unkindness. Her health gave way, and, in her melanchol)', she wrote sweet, sad poems to her husband, Mr. ■rilK SIORV OF MF.riK )I)ISM. Wright, to licr dyini;" infant, and an cjjitaph for licrself. Thi;: was the i^aycst, brightest of the house, who at eight years read the (jreek Testament. In later \X'ars. the consohitions of rehgion gave her comfort and peace, and Charles buried her with pra)'er and cheerful song. Mrs. Hall, Martha, ^\•as, in looks, closely like her brother John, ant. their hearts were one in the tenderest sym[)athy. She said lier brothers and sisters took the famil}' wit and left her none, but she had ample intelligence, and, what l\)pe was then praising as chief of all things — sense. .She loved her mother intensely, and was loved with even more than would have been her share of her mother's heart. Her history was sad en(;ugh. Mr. Mall led a wretched, outrageous life. Yet her character, amid all the blights that fell, was beautiful, and her clear, calm mind undimmed. Dr. Johnson ardently admired her, was fond of discussing with her in tlieology and philosophy, which she could enrich and illustrate with ami^le quotations of poetry and history. The great ruler in literature e\'en wished her to make her home beneath his hospitable roof. She outlived all her sorrows, outlived, too, all her brothers and sisters, l.i i/Qi. she passed from this world in j^eace. She, who had been the most loved of all, thus lingered to comfort the lives of all, and was "the last of that bright band." It is well to take fully into our account this Christian family. Self-centered and self-cultured, such another is hard to find. All who grew up were ardent Christians for their life-times. "Such a family," says Adam Clark, " 1 ha\e ne\'er read of, heard of, or known, nor has there been since the da)'s of Abraham and Sarah, and Joseph and Mary of Nazareth, a family to whom the human race has been more indebt<'d We [)ropose now to trace more closeh' the early li\'es of the two brothers who were called to the great work of organizing and promoting in the world that renewal of Christianity called Meth- odism. John \Vesle\' was born in the year after that estrangement of his parents. It was when the iJuke (jf Marlborough was jjrepar- ing for that great career that niade l^ngland first among the powers of the world that the bo}' ajjpeared ■vho was to save England from her own imdoing, a task which neither warriors nor f. Thi^: ars read f rclis^ion h prayer - brother hy. She left her was then r mother ia\e been I enough, character, lear, cahn was fond vhich she )oetry and • to make d all her I I 79 1, she the most and was ;ui family. nd. All " Such ard of, or uid Sarah, e human es of the iiizing and led Meth- ement of is j)repar- nioni; the to save irriors nor I 'A riii: sroKv (>!• mkiiiodi^m. ii ! Statesmen could perform. It was the first noted event of his life when the lipworth parsonage war. burned. Mrs. Wesley has London. .Idersgate ;fused b)- • m whom skin of ;i c year ot d l)y Sir Bacon l^rotest- lison anil , of later. l'ro\'ision was here matle for the sons of "poor L;"entlemen " .uixious, \'et unaiile, to educate their sons, and the roll of its luiuils proves what it h.i.s tlone for l',nL;lan(l and the world. When the lad John was there, the older jjupils were tyrants owr the \"ounger, eating the best of their iood, and making tlu'iii •• fag," as Tom Brow II and man}', an I'>nglish bo\' has fagged at 1-Aon ami Rugb\'. John ran three times each morning around the ample pla\'-ground, and the place became so dear to huii, b\' hi.s own "ood conscience, and his success in study, that he ]jaid it afterwards annual \-isits and refreshed himself with its sunn)- memo- rie>. This school was remo\'ed into the countrv' about 1S76. Lea\in<'- him in his i)reparation for the University, we trace the bo\hood of Charles. lie was younger than John b\- less than five \ears. In the fam- il\- at l-',pworth, the future poet made no marked figure. He dul not " lisp in num- liers " as poets born arc wont to do. He was onl\- sprightU^ and act- ive, quick to learn, and unlucky in boyish the charter-house and grounds. pranks. At eight \-cars, he wa.s sent to Westminster to be pupil in the school of which his eldest brother, Samuel, was an usher. This generous brother supported Charles, training him ver)' care- fully in his own High-Church principles. Charles iiad now " a fair escape," as John calls it, from another tlestin\'. Richard \\'esle\-, a kinsman to I^pworth, was a childless man, of large fortune, in Ireland. He wrote to ask if there was a "Charles W islev " there, tor such a one he would ghull_\' adoj)!. ile ,'i>^unied at once the lad's expenses. When Charles grew older he declined the otfer, and another was atlopted in his ])lace. This one became Baron Mornington, grandfather of " .\rlluir \\'esK:\- " ( .\nal\'st s))elling, iSoo), Duke of Wellington, and .ictor at Waterloo. Such an incident makes one think. How >;asil\-, had it so pleased tlu; (jreat Drdainer, might the world ■ I," I ".iS«H-"'..*,:-»*»Eiv>i'*;* aii4^'*«wt;ii«;-!i«;%.-.ii«.*wi:».:.'^ ,jis««jHry£ii- ,10^ CHARLES WKSI F.Y. (From ;(ii uii^iuul [iriiiiiiiig iii jJUhScsMi)!! cf the family ) H»*.:.-* i*fc«ir!«ii'.^ 'I'lli: nRK.ix dl MKIIK tl>I>M. % I ■a have missed the L^reat Cieiieral and the L^reat I'ott. Charle^; was nineteen when he' went t<> tlie l'ni\ ersit\-. Tassin"' now from bovhood, tliese men were well furnished for tile career which was to open before tliem. In person they f a\-eraue stature, but thev were of s\-mmetr\- ad- were lardh' o uiirahle. Their pii>-sical habits were of a Spartan cast. They could endure toil and hunt^^er, not onl\' with patience. Ijut with r\en a stoical disre^^u'd. John had a marx'eious commantl of sleep. It came at his call. and. for fift\' >-ears. this " chici' nourisher at life's fra-t " ne\ er failed to i^ivc him prompt and unbroken refreshment. mmmmmmmmm 44 Till': sroKV OK Mi;i IIODISM. so congenial and (il)<.:(liriu, was not with out artistic capacity. I'lic brothers ontcrcil ()\r()r(l as Christian men. They broii^lit, iViini I'.pworth, to tiieir scIidoIs, deep Cf)n\ictions of Christi.in truth and unfalterinL; confidence in tlie l*"ouncler of" the Cliristian reh^ion. The}- were le.i(hn<;" Ijhuneless h\'es ; tlie)' looked torward to cheerful ser'.ice in the Church, to Knp^land and throui,di iMigland, to mankind. We shall see how, in their hearts, convictions led to expe- riences ; how lon^ini^s and strui^- L;les after " more life and fuller" were satisfied, aiul how th'y were endowed with power from on hiL;h, so as to enter upon their career " like stroni;' men to run .i race." We h a \' e presented the family at I'-pworth.and the>'ounL;' \\ esleys, thus full}' — perhai)s more full}' than is in due proi)or- tion of this book — because we have in it such an example and / / such tcachini^. The Church and the world are uivinir ever larger honor to the household in which JOHN WESLEY, at Twenty-three Years. ^^.^^.^ fashioucd SUCh hclpcrs of the human race. Quite recently, the Hymnal, which will soon be used in sacred song more widely than any other, bears the name of Epworth, to perpetuate the sweet home that did so much to bring music into the modern service of the Church from which, in the two pre\'ious centuries, it had been painfully excluded; " u here songs rose fri)m grateful hearts to the listening heavens," and neighbors were drawn to a worship kindred to that of Jerusa- lem, which is above the home eternal in the heavens. capacity. . They ctions of uiuUt itt cs ; th>'\' l'!,nL;laiul , in tlicir to ex po- ind struL;- kI fuller " low iItv iWlT fl'tMU Lij)on their n to run a cntcd the the you ni;- — perhai)s lie propor- ccause we ample and hurch and ver larL;er Itl in which heli)ers ot will soon bears the Id so much om which, excluded ; heavens," of Jerusa- I 3 ■•„ V '■■-•../. John Calvin, I'rench Protestant Reformer, linrn 1509, Die I 1564. JiHN i)E Wvci.lK, English Reformer, and Translator ol the Hible, Born 1324, Died ij34. Martin' Luthek, Leader of Germa 1 Kcfir:naii 'O, V-orn 1483, I >ied 1546. John Knox, Scottish Reformer, Rorn 1505, I)i_d 1572. MklanchiN, Oernian Liuheran lUfotme , I'oni 1497, l'ii.-d 1590. :'M I CIIAITI^R II, Li II'. Ai Oxford. ill I: is '■.'■A ^^ii 1.11 1; A I (i\i<«Ki), 49 ttainmcnts. .iml tlu- rti»utf gained at tin I'nivcrsity as His a a I(ir(i in tlic realm of mind." served wt-ll his wuris 111 many later crisis. avc himself tit tile services <> f tl le - I'lnirch. and was ( )\- ■P 50 THK STORY OF METHODISM. naturally formed a group; they were called the Holy Club, the Methodists. They were the Wesleys, Morgan, Kirkham, White- field, Clayton., Ingham, and a few others. F'rom November, 1729, they began systematic exercises of prayer, study and discussion, for their own benefit. In 1730, Morgan, a warm-hearted Irish- man, led his brethren out in visits of mercy to the poor, the prisoners, the sorrowing. By his father's advice, Wesley referred the matter to the Bishop, and received that prelate's warm ap- proval. " I hear my son John has the honor of being styled the ' Father of the Holy Club ' ; if it be so, I im that the Saviour died, that his sins were borne on the cross. The vision filled his heart with strange and sudden jo)'. " On that day my jo\'s were like a spring-tide, and overflowed the banks ; go where I would, I could not avoid singing i)salms aloud ; afterward the)- became i '% ed ve Id. of nd eal /er Liid CCS :ler in( cs, ids am \ng, lest no .SC( o a of lar cry JC- dis- 1 in the :m- on, our hi< ere liEOKUK WIllTEriKLM. m •;h3 £ M li '"> ■''•>! I ■5^^ lid. ime •:;t 56 THE STORV OF METHODISM. I' more settled, and have increased in my soul ever since." What a preparation for a great calling ! The Bishop of Gloucester wished to ordain him. Like a knight of old, watching with his armor, he spent the hours in prayer, and, at his ordination, his " Amen " was deep, generous and unreserved. " When the Bishop laid his hand on me, I gave up iiyself to be a martyr for Him who hung upon the cross for me." The Bishop, with his blessing, gave his candidate five guineas, much and timely for one who had not a guinea in the world. Now entered upon his work the evangelist, chief of all since the Gospel came. To the marvel of his preach- ing, all of his day bear witness. Hume, the hard unbeliever, said he would go twenty miles to hqarWhitefield preach, while he would not hear a common preacher. Dr. Frank- lin, after pre-determin- ing not to give a penny to a cause which he was lo hear W h i t e fi e 1 d present, emptied his pockets, to the last penny — twenty pounds — and would have given his whole estate, had it been in those pockets. Besides his blazing heart, the evangelist had rare personal qualities. He was tall and fair, and his face beamed with a gen- erous ardor. His gestures and grace of bearing were admired by those who heard Garrick and Chatham, while the common people were in wild, uncritical delight. His early life taught him how to touch the common heart. To this was added " the finest voice of the century," which in its delicate tones, was still audible to thousands, and in its power, often rose above the noise of the BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. After the original miniature in possession of W. J. Diiane, Esq. LIFE AT OXFORD. 57 voice )le to )f the elements and the tumult of the people. No such orator ever yet spoke our English tongue. Yet the excellency of his power was of God, and not of himself. His first sermon, in the church of his childhood, proved his power. The Bishop was told that fifteen of the hearers had gone mad ; his answer was, that he would like the madness to abide until the next Sabbath. He was soon preaching in London. •'Who is he?" was the inquiry of a surprised and delighted peo- ple, who thronged to hang upon his lips with strange emotions, and to bless him as he passed along. The Gospel seemed to them as something newly revealed ; they were startled, and under it had searchings of heart, such as they had never felt before. One of the " Holy Club" had thus entered upon his sacred calling, and the Club itself, at Oxford, was increasing in numbers, and not declining in character. Wesley now wrote from Georgia, calling Whitefield to his aid. " Do you ask me what you shall have? Food to eat, and raiment to put on, a house to lay your head in, such as your Lord had not, and a crown of glory, that fadeth not away." Whitefield's heart leaped as at a bugle-call, and he hastened to depart. Going to Bristol, to take leave of his friends, he preached unweariedly. People of all classes and denominations flocked to hear him. " The whole city seemed to be alarmed. In the crowded churches, the word was sharper than a two-edged sword, and the doctrine of the New Birth made its way like lightning into the hearers' consciences." Returning, after a short absence, the crowds came out of the city to welcome him and bless him as he passed. He preached five times a week. Men climbed to the church-roof, clung to the rails of the organ-loft, while the breath of the crowd within condensed into drippings on the pillars. At his farewell sermon, the house was loud with sobs and weepings, and until the next midnight — all the livelong day — he was speak- ing counsel and comfort. He then secretly started for London. At London, all the city was stirred. If he assisted at the Lord's Supper, the elements had to be resupplied. If he spoke for a charitv, the collections were trebled. Constables were em- ployed to manage the crowds. Before the morning light, throngs of people, as at the Athenian theatrical representations, filled the streets, making their way by lanterns to secure places for hearing (r 58 THE STOKV OK MKTHODISM. his ten o'clock sermon. After this immense stir in London, some were glad of his departure for Georgia, for they feared whereto this thing would grow in his excess of zeal. As we have seen, in the order of that Providence, to whom the welfare of man is dear, Wesley was not far away. Arriving " at the land whither he would be," he entered at once into Whiteficld's labors, and preached to the same crowds: " If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature." Whiteficld's voyage to America was with a ship-load of soldiers and emigrants, who, with the crew, were rough and un- godly. He was faithful in Christian labor, and, by the time they reached the Colony, there was a visible and gratifying change. Four months he spent in continuous travel and labor among the settlements, being spared many of the bitter trials which the Wesleys !iad borne, perhaps, indeed, because he had attained a better mind than they. The colony was singularly full of orphan children. He determined to found for them an as\-lum, and for this purpose he returned to I-'.ngland in the autumn of 173S. The great work upon which he was now so fitted to enter, upon which he had already entered, was fully opened before him ; the work truly called " the starting point of our modern religious history." The Wesleys were not yet ready, like himself, but so they were soon to become. John Wesley (he is henceforth JfV.sAr) came upon English soil in temper very different from that in which Whitefield was leaving it. The flaming orator had taken for his seal a winged heart, with the motto, " Let us seek the stars ! " Wesle\- was bowed and broken in spirit. He sadl\' records that he had left his native land to teach the Indians the nature of Christianity. "What have I myself learned, meantime? What I least suspected — that I myself was never converted to God." He was sure thpt he was not alone in this grievous state. Thou- sands, placed like himself, learned, serious, and serving in the Church, were, could they but feel it, no better conditioned than he. He recounts, in deep, frank soliloquy, his attainments, his devotions, his charities, his labors, his resignation to the Divine Will. " Do all these things, be the)' more or less, make a man acceptable with God? All these, when ennobled by faith in Christ, are holy, just and good. Without it, they are but dung and dross." It was the old question, out of which the agony of 1.IM-: OXIORD. 59 the ages has come — "How can a man be just with God?" He wanted something other than clouds and uncertainties. " Misera- ble comforters tell me that I have faith ; so have the devils a sort of faith ; but still they are strangers to the covenant of promise. The faith I want is a sure trust that, through the merits of Christ, my sins are all forgiven, and I am reconciled to God." He lacked nothing but this, yet this is the one only sunshine upon a human heart, and as the sunshine gives to the earth all color and energy, the flow of streams, the glow of heat and the ripeness of harvest, so this w h i c h Wesley lacked, was the only source of joy and power that gives Christianity its glory. This lack was >^uon to be supplied. H e w ho c o m - manded the light to shine out of dark- ness, was soon to fill His servant's heart with a vision of glory, in aknowl- edse of Christ as the true and present Saviour. It was to come from a people of another land and language. It is now four hundred years, and more, since Huss and Jerome were burned at Prague, in Bohemia, They represented those Protestants to whom Anne, their country-wcman, the good Queen of Richard II. of England, had sent preachers, trained under VVyclif, the first translator of the Bible into English. The Protestants of Bohemia had fared hard, and at last were driven from the land. A company of ten, fleeing last from Moravia, and thence known as Moravians, found refuge on the estate of Count COUNT ZINZENDORF. From a rare print PETF.R BOHLER. \ I.IFK AT OXFORP. 6r Zinzendorf, a Liisatian nciblcman. He named their home " Herrn- hiit," from a wish of his pious steward that here mi^ht arise a city whose people mi^dit be on the " Lord's Watch." The Count himself suffered for the faith. He was exiled (though the Countess held the estates), and, returning, was imprisoned. He preached in various parts of luiropc, in New York and Pennsylvania. At sixty years he died at home, hlessint^ God for what he had seen done amonrganizer, each mighty in Scripture, gifted in utterance, and glowing with experience, are ready for their work. How itinerancy began, is a matter as simple and natural as the runnii _, of water from a hill-side. While Wesley had been in Germany, Charles had already begun telling of his fresh and ssX- ^hA ,:,i, i :1 64 Till-: STOKV OF METHUDISM. 5 ^ isfying experiences. Some r!erg)-men approved of them, and were seeking the like for themselves. Crowds came to hear him, but he could rarel}' get a church for his gatherings. Not that his JOHN WESLEY PREACH IXG IN MATIiKW HAOSHAW'S HOUSE. action was offensive ; it was his manner, too earnest and forcibU-, that was annoying, l^'or this reason, lie was ejected from the par- ish of Islington, London, where he was serving as curate. He I, IFF. AT nXFOKD. 6c found sympathy, indeed, h«)nie, with certain small reli<4i(jus soci- eties, which had a historic interest. Not l<>n^ after the re-estab- lishment of the l^nL;lish Church, a few )-ears after the death of Cromwell, some spiritual members of the Cluircli felt the need of mon.' intimate and s\'mpathetic relii^ious exercises than the Church ser\ice Oi^ered. Tlicse formed themselves into small societies, some of which were survi\in_L^ m tl.ese Wesley days, and felt some revival from the influence of the Moravians. In these modest circles, the W'esleys found love and fellow- shi[). Wesley arrived from Germany on a Saturday nii;ht. He held four i)ubhc ser- \ices the next (.lay, and by the next Sun- il.iy evenin;^ he liad lield thirteen, " decl.ir- ini;, in m\- own coun- try, the L,datl tidini^s of s a 1 \' a t i o n ." These wx'i'e to all classes of people, in prison, in church, in little circles. Thus began, in 173S, when Wesley was tiiirt)'-ti\e x'ears old, that habit of daily ciiort, which he c.n- ST. marv. Islington. tiiuied, without interruption, until his eiL^ht\--eiL;hth year. The tuNt week was the pattern cuul sample of the fifty-two }ears to 1( ijiow. ilis theoloLjical stock ami store was slender. He believed and urt^ed four thins^^s : 1. T'-.at orthodoxy, and even benevo- lence, ma)- exist without relii^ion, this latter beini; inward rii;ht- eoiisness, attendefl and certifieil b\' peace with God, anil joy in tile llol\' Ghost. 2. That this religion can be gained onl\- through rept'iitance towards God. and faith in our Lortl Jesus Christ. •h 'i It m 'i' ■■•'■*, 4'-;!^ 66 TIIK STORY OK MKTIIODISM. 3. That this faith in Christ, this hearty surrender and unfalterir^ trust, " taking; God at his word," brings to the soul acceptance with God. It is all that man can do. 4. The result of this is that " we taste of the heaven to which we are tjoinj^," are made hol\' and happy, by a pcjwer in us but not of us. These four points, in Wesley's own experience, he saw rapid- ly confirmed by the experience of man)- and various people — of clerfj)'men, and of criminals under sentence of death, and of all grades between these extremes. Many cried that these were " stran' counted this a sure token of the dixine approval 111 iluir efforts. 77/(7/ and tlicrt' ({id Mcthodisui risrficiii .]/i'/rtance, and. after fa^liiiL; and pra\'er. a tleep conviction of their calling and a (Irrp sense of power were ^iscn them. The)' closed "with a lull ^ m m ■ 7!.' -a KM ■'it 68 THE STORY OF METHODISM. ^i !i ■I conviction that God was about to do great things among us." The conviction came amply true. Henceforth, the story of Methodism, for more than half a century, is told by Wesley himself, in a journal, where everything is put down at once upon its occurrence. Methodism is already inaugurated, and a conference has been held. Now opens the next feature of the movement. VVhitefield was allowed to preach in a London church. A thousand stood outside, and hundreds went away for lack of standing-room. As he proceeded, " with great freedom of heart and clearness of voice," he thought, " Why not speak as Christ WHITEFIELD PREACHING. iid, in the open air?" Some friends counted it wild. He took it to his Master, in prayer. " Hear and answer, O Lord, for Thy name's sake!" He went to Ih'istol. and soon not only its churches but even its prisons, were closed against him. Nearby is Kingswood, a royal forest once, then a range of coal mines, with a people heathenish in speech and manners — the lowest of KuLdishmen. There was no church to ask for. Whitefield felt his prayer answered, and his occasion present. On Saturday, February 17, 1739, he stood on a high ground, and told two hundred colliers what they had never heard before. He thougb.t of his Master, His puli)it a mountain, and His sounding-board the dome of the sky. " Blessed be God ! I have taken the field. LIFE AT OXFORD. 69 Is there not a cause? Pulpits are denied, and the poor coUiers are ready to perish." From two hundred, his audiences grew to twenty thousand. The scene was inspiring, and his wondrous gifts come into their fullness of action. All stood in breathless silence, " in an awful manner, filling me with holy admiration." His marvelous voice reached every one. As he went on, tears made white gutters down their coal-stained cheeks. Wide as his own nature was, and heaven-mounting his soul, he was sometimes nearly over- powered. " But I was never deserted ; I was strangely assisted " As the winter evenings drew on, and over the fields, beneath the solemn sky, were thousands beyond thousands " at times all affected and drenched in tears together." But " it quite over- came me." He then ventured upon the bowling-green, in Bristol. He needed help, and Wesley came in the end of April. The latter shrank from " this strange way." " Having been all my life so tenacious of decency and order that I should have thought the saving of souls almost a sin if it had not been done in a church." On Monday, May 2, he made his first open-air dis- course, from " The Spirit of the Lord is upon me," etc. He felt himself divinely endorsed. He was soon preaching in Kings- wood, to five thousand, " If any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink." The new step was taken. The Gospel, that had been housed in England for twelve hundred years, was now uttered in the fresh air. To us, living a hundred and fifty years after the event, and familiar with such preaching, its importance is not readily appreciated. Wesley saw the need, and the opening, and henceforth the Word was not bound by the will of parish priests. Whitcfield now passed on into Wales. There was need, for the Welsh, now the most religious of the British I'^mpire, with a church to every ihree square miles, mountains and all, were then in a sad condition. Wesley found them " as little versed in the principles of Christianit)' as a Creek or Cherokee Indian." Meth- odism wrought tlie change. Griffith Jones, a clergyman of the Church, but, I'ke Wesley, a Methodist, was not onl)' preaching with his might, but was employing traveling teachers of Scripture, catechism and song. These went through the region, and when Whitefield came, he found one hundred and twenty-eight of their schools where these salutary exercises were had in the musical 70 THE STORY OF METHODISM 14 |i3 i '^ lant;iia_i;c of Wales. Jones lived to see the work of the new evaiii,felists take tleep, ehfecttUi! hold, in his clear land. Howell Harris, also a Churchman, was at this time formint^ " societies, "such as Wesley had found in London. They were to promote piet\' within the Church (where all the people were as- sumed to l)e). The)- restdtetl in such i^rowth of Dissent, that to- da\', as a sample, the restored Cathedral of Truro, which can hold all the worshipers of the town, is nearly empt)', and the cha[)els take the people. Harris and Whitefield met at Cardiff, and the)- WESLEY AND BEAU NASH. held mcetin.Ljs toj^ether. " They set the whole i)rincipalit)- in a bla/.e." Whiteluld sa)s of Harris: "There seems a noble sj)irit i;one out into Wales." The Welsh temperament responded to the call of these kindred souls. I'dotjuence antl sonL( had of old their home in Wales, and the land of the Llewellyns furnished many laborers, <^\hci\ with ;4enius for ctuiception and utterance as well as with the Christian L^races. W hitetield had, in Wales, heroic experiences of opposition and victor)-. KeturniuL; to London, he was e.xcluded from all the churches. 't5 )int the icir any .11 tion ics. 'i^m M i I'M % H' m • '-'11' ■"■■■1 HOWEII, HARRIS. LIFE AT OXFORD. 73 He resolved to preach at Moorfields, a large commot where, on Sunday, the rabble of the city were wont to congregate. He made his way to the center of the fields ; a table on which he was to stand was crushed, but finally, from a wall, he brought the noisy thousands into order as decorous as in a church. " God strengthens me exceedingly; I preach until I sweat through and through." That same evening, he preached on Kennington com- mon. His voice was heard a mile, with no loss of quality. Car- riages and horsemen, with perhaps forty thousand people on foot, were in his audience. The poor did as Franklin had done ; they gave their all. One of his collections contained ten thousand pieces of copper, and people still threw half-pence into his carriage ! Nor was Wesley idle. His personal gifts of oratory were not equal to Whitefield's, but they were respectable, and he had clearness, force and earnestness, " the qualities that produce con- viction." His labors were wonderful, and displays of divine pcnver attended them. Preaching in the prison, at Bristol, " men dropped on every side, as thunderstruck," while God " bore wit- ness to His word; " and the convictions were so lasting that, the next day, the prison " rang with cries." He exulted in these ex- periences. One day, on Rose Green, the people stood through a fierce storm, while he discoursed from " The God of glor\' diundereth." A fop of the period, mentioned by others as a ruler in /ashion, Beau Nash, tried to silence Wesley before a large congregation. " Did you ever hear me preach? " "No, I judge of you by common report." " Give me leave to ask. Is your name Nash? " •' My name is Nash." "Sir, I dare not judge o( rou by common report." Nash was annoyed, but said : "Why do these people come here?" An old woman answered : "You, Mr. Nash, take care of your body; we take care of the bo(l\ , and then come here for the food of our souls." Nash turned and retreated in silence. Wesley was now preaching every day in the week, and four m ^4 ' . I LIFE AT OXFORD. 75 V-l- 4 or five times on Sunday. He says: "Hitherto as my days, so m)' strength liath been," and such was his testimony fifty years hiter. The Bristol " societies " were now man>', and rooms adequate for their ^atherin^s could not well be had. A buildin^^, not a church, became necessary. It was on Ma\' 12, 1739, that the corner-stone was laid, at Bristol, for the first Methodist Chapel in the world. It was laid with the voice of praise and thanks^nvin^. Its origin illustrates the simple policy which Mr. Wesley adopted from the beginning, and which, until his death, he had no reason to change. He says: "I had no design of being personally engaged in the expense or the execution of this work. I a|)- pointed for this, eleven trustees. But I (|uickl)' found m\' mistake. All stood still, unless I paid the workmen, and I had c[uickly used one hundred and fifty pounds. As to the direction, I received a letter from Mr. Whitefield, that he and others would have nothing to do with the building, unless I discharged the trustees and did everything in my own name. One reason which they gave was enough — that the trustees would control me, and, if they did not like my preaching, could turn me out of the room which I had built. I accordingly took the matter into ni)' own hands, none opposing." Thus began his s)'stem of ownership, by which he became builder and proprietor of all the " preaching houses." " Chapel," a word formerly applied to houses erected for public worship but not having the full character of a church, usually in- tended for the convenience of those remote from churches, was the term gradually coming into use to designate these buildings. It marked their convenience, and, also, what was at first true, that the)' were not consecrated ; that the sacrament, especially of baptism, was not administered in them. In our day, "chapel" and " church " are often used interchangeably. It was, at first, needful to the unity and stability of his work that all its property, as well as all other responsibility, should center in him. His legal title was always upheld by the Courts, and in due time he transferred all the properties to the " Legal Hundred," who composed the " Conference." J739< the birth-year of Methodism as a distinct and working development of Christianity, was a year of many wonders. Of these, the most notable were the physical elTects attending the ^^•:^.> 76 THE STORY OF MKTIIoDISM. spiritual cxcitoniont caused by the preaching. It was not the marvelous elotjuence of W'hitefield, so much as the calm, cool lo^ic of W'esle)', under which these occurreil. Not merel)' the weak and sensitive, but a^ much, and e\cii more, the stron^^ and hardened went down like men in i^attle. \'oun^^ women, listeninj^ attenti\"el\', bold blasphemers, were struck, ami fell in a^on)-. Scores would lie as if dead. A i)assinLj traveler paused to hear a f( ew wo rds, and, fallinu. la\' .is if lifeless. A sober (,)uaker, who w, admoms P )f^ iroots on hin hi> 1 iS atrams t such " irre<'uliu"ities," fell with the w IDS. A wiaxir tleiiouncec 1 th e wliole th m« ciinwrt <'a^■e him <»ne •>! W eslev s st-rmons n readmir it, he ro ;u-etl miuhtiiv." and fi'Jl to the floor. Thert' his friends found him, sweatini;, weeping and screamin< Tl lost- wlio believed that these excitenuiUs, thoui^h .-sincere, miijht be controlled, fell in the midst of their remonstrances. In Jul)', of this \'ear, W'hitefield, preachint;", with \\'esle\' at his side, had hi^ first experience of this demonstration. At his fust words, four ')ersons fell. VV'hite- fuld had recoi Ifd fr om sucli scenes, but now the\- agreed that " we will suffer (iod to carry on his own work, in the way that s way came to )leaseth llim. Most of th(»se affected in thi peace in beliexiiiL;, but W'esle)-, afterwards, counted them as no proof (jf saxini; p(»s\er. He discoura<;e(l them, though tenderly and wisel\-, while Charles ave them no counte nance. Th ey m ii.,dit accompaiu a ijenuine operation of the heavenly <^race — and th( •>' ma ,ht not. The new departure was now an accomplished fact. Samuel W'eslc)' disliked the outward accompaniments of his brother's preachin;. know n. ^. He e\en ilenied that pardon of sin could be surely In fact, he staid b\- the faith of his ancient family, the faith really, of the best j)art of the nation at the time, while his Noun^er brother re\i\ed, in freshness and power, the faith of Paul. A brief ar'nimeiit was held between them. Neither ^ ur- rendered, but Samuel, at la^t, wrote tenderl)- P'inally, breth- ren, j)ra)- )e for us both, that the word of the Lord ma)- have free course and be uiorified, ' a- s, witli his brotliers, it .'uiipl)' was Iv The e venerable mother, now residing; with Samuel, at Tiver- ton, was present at what Samuel called " Jack's coni;regations." She remembered that her father had not, for forty years, doubted the pardon of his own sins, yet had never preached of such i '.7811 ■ii'.*. rv'W ''m*^ t' 1 ^ii't't ' . 78 TIIK STORY OI-- MF/niODISM. I li experience. She liad thouL^lU such miffht be the privileges of a favored few. She now, in the very act of taking the cup of Sac- rament, y^// the sense of pardon. Her son's doctrine was hence- forth to her t'ne soul of truth, and she heartily approved of his course, as reasonable rnd necessary. In some things, as in the using of lay preachers', she was in advance of him. Her home was, hereafter, at his house in the Foundry. This was a half-ruined building, in Moorficlds, which the Government had once used for the casting of cannon. Two friends. Mr. Bail and Mr. Walkins, asked Wesley to preach in it, and aidetl iiim in fitting it tor regular worship. On November 1 I, 1739, it was ojiened for ser\ice. 'JMie foundr)' was thereafter the headquarters of Methodism in London. This first service in it has been assumed as the true Epoch of Methodism, and on the same day of our century, the Centennial of Methodism was observed. Wesley was fond of dating from the forming of the Holy Club, ten ye.u-s earlier. Yet, his own statement is satisfac- tor\'. " .S'H)n after the consecration of the Foundr}'. in the latter end of the \ eai 1 739. eight or ten persons came to me in l.oiulon, ;uul ilesired that I would si)end some time with them in pra\er. and achise them how to flee from the wrath to come. This was the rise of the United Societv." The evening set was Thurs(ia\'. alrea(i\' half-sacred at ICpworth, and so held by the Mfthiiilists long afterwards for social worship. Willi the Mora\ians in Fetterlane, Wesley was getting out of s>'mpalh\-. The\- were becoming Ouietists, holding " true still- ness " to be the highest religious attainment — almost like the Nirwane, " infinite sleep," of the Brahmins. The\-e\rn discarded the Christian miiiislr\' and ordinances. These eirors were tran- siv^^iU, aiul Zir/endorf himself came to l>ondon to correct them, but, Wesle)' soon left them. " 1 long to be with them, yet I am kept froni them." I lis reason controlled his ,UTecti«Mi, though Clu.rles would still ha\e remained with them, a Moravian, and not a Methodist, had not his brother and his friends uiade vigor- ous remonstrance. Jul)' 30, 1740, marks \\\v sf])aration of Wesle\- from his German brethren. It w.is done with love and regret. The career now opening before him was such as ct/uld nnl\" — i.e.. the soprano. The "tenor" was made simple. The i;lory of thi' nnisic was to be m the affections which it coiueyed, and nut in its " Ital- 'ap. trilla." Thus came an era in cliurch music. These litur.L;ical hymns held the essence of sermons, t r a n s fi <^ u r e d by the pt)el s iinaL;inati()n, and jjlowini' with his heart's affections. Th.e)' ])re- pared the conL;reL;'ation for the discourse, to re- ceive it in warmth ( ;fsym- pathy and li\ely energy of 'uulerstanding. In no other WAV could the pool , the \\ear\' and the 1 g nor a n t have been roused .\ni.\ r e t a i n e d, heartened and inspired. Three editions of these h)'mns were at onci printed, and their circulation and use was wonderful. C h.irles was not striotiv an e.vtc-mpori/.er in 'poetry, but he was as nearl\- so as his cotemporary, Robert liurns. Iwery event, man\- a minor incidc-nt, became- a theme of sacred song, and was caught by the peoi)le while sparkling with the dews of its morning. l".\ir\' phase of Christian experience — its gloom, its struggle, its victory, its peace, its joy — finds in a Wesleyan hymn some true Castalian, almost seraphic utterance. I'or this reason while at this date the W'esley.an sermons may be in tlisusi-, the hymns are in all churches, and Christian hearts can never let them die. RORF.RT BURNS. I.IFK Ai' OXFORD. 8i One can now sec what Methodism was, now that it had fairly passed the period of its oriiijin. It was the rcsidt of a series of necessities. Wesley had formed no theor\'. His plans, like the I^in^lish constitution, "were not made, they Ljrew," as a tree <>rows from the earth and unfolds itself in the air. He, with Charles and W'hitefield, could not do otherwise than preach. The word of the Lord was as a fire in their bones. Their enilowments for its utterance were complete, and their dut\' was as clear as the sun in the heavens. When the churches were shut ai^ainst them, what else could they do but preach in the fields? When " con- verted men " sought Wesley's care and guidance, what could he do but provide houses for their meetings and rules for their association? He took no ste}) forward until necessitx' compelled it; no step backward did he ever take. Nothing dim and distant affected him; he cared onl\' for what lay close about his feet. The future, with him, bore its own burdens, which he did not care to foresee. Southey says, that when Methodism was now enter- ing its career, like a ship upon unknown seas, Wesle)' ilid not kn('W to what his plans were leading, what institute his societies migh*" vet form, what men would rise to help him, or what resources would supplv his needs. He only knew that the mist of the future would lift and roll awa\- in its time, and that God's own cause would not fail of God's own support. Least of all, did he dream of disloyalty to the l^nglish Church. All I'Lngland held no man more reverent of its authorit\' and order, though the more reverent he was, the more rudely he was treated. WESLEY'S TEA PoT. Presented lo 'csley by Wedgwood, the famous Potter of Staffordshire. - 'VU KMSIiiHIflf' ^' ""P" '"'S W Wri'*'^' mm: I,"' . ■ Ml...-;?: . ";■•■.' I,-":: lit/;' r^ •,!'. '.';y I (R, CHAPTr<:R III. '\t^ Ukadway of Methodism.— Whitefield's A.'h Seta RAT I or,'. j^'^ (^\V the labors of Wesley, having 7 a definite center and outline, be- K Mj came more effectual than ever. L He went far and wide, preaching daily, and on Sunda)-, usuall}', four times. IMobs were always assailing him, but the)' usually softened down to quiet attention ; the loudest and most vio- lent being often brought to tears, re- pentance and conversion. No book smaller than Wesley's own journal could gi\'e the continuous perils and victories that came with tht> (la\-s. At Rcngeworth, a mob " with tongues set on fire of hell," proposed to duck him. Carr)-ing him to the bridge, himself and his helper, Thomas Maxfield, singing all the while, they left him. He sang, loud and clear: " Angel of C'lod, whate'er betide, Thy summotis 1 obey." Then, while hundreds gathered respectfull)-, he discoursed from, "If God be for us, who can be against us?" "Never did I so much feel what I spoke. The word ditl not return empt\-." He became used to the warfare. Nearly ever\- da)- brought a con- flict, and conflict meant victory. In 1742 he \-isited Kpworth, after seven years of absence. The Wesleys were gone— only his 84 'lili; SToKV OF MHTHODISM. WESLEY PREACHING ON HIS FATHER'S TOMB, father's tomb remained. Not allowed b\' the curate to preach in tlie church, he stood, at six in the evenint;', upon his father's tombstone, and j)reachetl " to such a conj^^re^^^ation as, I believe. I'.pworth ne\er saw before." .\ wt.-ek later he preached at the same place, "to .i vast multitude ^^athered from all parts," \:tA 1^ ■1 31' IIKADWAV ()!• MF.TIIODISM. — WIHTKl' IKI.I ) S SKI'ARA TK ).\. 85 hardly able to Icaxc, after three hours' discourse. " O let none think his labor of love is lost because the fruit docs not immedi- atel\- appear ! Nearh- fort)- }ears ilid my father labor here — he saw little fruit of his labor; but now the fruit appeared." Charles had, anion^ other places, been preaching" at Newcas- tle, where John had n ade entrance. " I was surprised. So nuich drunkenness, cursint^ and suearini;, even from the mouths of little children, do I remember to have heard in so little time." Me be^an to f^incT. and fifteen hundred crathcved. .At five, " I never ^^jim. rOMll Ol'' -SAMUKl, WKSLKV J) IN Kl'WORlll i. li T !«. 11-V AK 1). ( I'rom .T ph.ildcr.iph t,-»kon in 1S77.) .saw ■•'> IarL;e a number of people toL;ether. M\' \'oioe was >lronL;' ,iii(i ck'ar, yet it \\.i> not possible for half to hear, lhouL;h 1 had them .ill in \ii'\\." X'isiti IT' llu; 1)1. ice, after C'h.U" i.'^ had met witli success, W e>- It y beL;.ui ( it was miilw int(.-r. and in thai luL^h latitude 1 ) to i)reach at ti\-e ui the mornm; 1)1. ice. .i|-''est [e w.is j^ratified with th«. Hi •sull> in the .i\inu' one noiMUl. ^ix shulmsjs. ui hand, he l)i'u.in )>re.ichinu-liouse ll ^c in I'.ni^i.md, ai)parently llu' third of till.: >eries. The entire cost was .it least sex'en hundred pounds. . ill '■■■^ I ■'ill ' ■ r^ ■ »■•;' ■■ ■%. (r- 86 TIIK STOKV (»F MKTIIODISM. A Quaker, who had heard of the work, wrote: " Friend Wesley, I dreamed I saw the? surrounded with a lar^^e flock of sheep, which thou didst not know what to do with. My first thouij^ht, when I awoke, was of th\' flock at Newcastle. I have enclosed tiiee a note for a hundred pounds, which may help thee to pro- vide a house." By such supplies the buildin<^ rose, and it was called "The Orphan House." While the stream flowed on, it widened. Some debts had Ol.n NFAVCASTI.F. ORPHAN HOUSE. been incurred at l^ri'^tol. Wesk-}" was consultin;^ how to pay these, when one said; " Let ever\' member of the Societ\' i)a\' a penn)' a week, until all are paid." " Hut many are too jioor to (1(1 it." "Then put eleven of the poorest with me. I will call on them wecl y, and, if ihcy can ^Mve nothin;^^ I will jjay for them. l^ach of \'ou do the s uiie." It was (.lone. These collectors found some members who were behavini^ badlw " It struck me imme- diateh', ' this is the ver)' thiiv^ we have wanted so loni;^.' " The J ,M: IIKAhWAV OV METHODISM. — WIHTKFIEI.U'S SKI'AKATloN. 8/ J^/ //-T-? spiritual interest was then made tlie foremost. The collectors were to make weekly incjuiry of each one's reli<;ious welfare, and report the same ; then to receive the penny. Soon it was ar- ranged for them to meet him — now calletl their leader. Thu.s arose the Class, with its leader and weekly meeting. Wesley was told of his people at Kin^swood meeting, antl spending the ni^ht in prayer and praise, as early Christians had done in their ICves, or \'ii,Mls, " I could see no cause to forbiil it." He proposed to meet with them "on the Friday nearest the full moon, when we should have liLjht ; desiring that only they would meet me there who could do it without prejudice to themselves and their business or families. Abundance of people came, and I began preaching be- tween eight and nine. We continued beyond the n o o n of night, singing, praying, and praising God." Thus was the Watch-night introduced among the usages of Methodism. There were tares among the wheat. To separate the vile from the good, Wesley de- termined to talk in person, once in three specimen of love feast ticket. months, with every member of the Societies. To those of whom he saw no reason to doubt, ho gave a ticket, bearing the receiver's name; as much as to say. " I believe the bearer hereof to be one who fears God, and works righteousness." These tickets were renewed each c]uarter. and were, in fact, letters of commendation. IK: was afrait! that his people might come to think, "there is no work of (]od, but among them- selves." To prevent such bigotry, he devoted one evening a uKMith to reading what God was doing in other lands and in other denominations. For still closer mutual care, he arranged the liands (already mentioned) on a basis of close s\-nipath\- and confidence. These have, in later da\s. ilr(ii)ped out of the system. Mary Hart. p 1 w% wm \ P'i • 1 Wm 1 ^'^P^ i 'il \^< ■ 1,1' ^ ^'pi J J (ii i 88 llli: SinUV dl" MKI'IIoDInM. th OUl 'h Wcslcv said. "Whore there is no baiul-meetintjj tliere is no Methoihsm. What are called Holiness meetinr Whitefiekl. the ureat orator of thi wonderful trio was au.iin in in X America. Landin;^ in Lhiladelphia. o\ember, \jyj, he stirred the cit\" most wonderfull\-. People of all crcetls crowdeil the churches, aiul. after his tlej)arture. such was the imjjulse from hi^ \isit that for a \-ear public ser\'ice iir,.\i>\\\v <>K Mi;i II' »i)i->M. — wmi i:iii:!,i>S si:i',\K.\rinN. Sq was hclil twice daiU- ami fmir times on Siinda)-. ululc twonty-six societies held social prayer. From the Market House, he coidel be heard across the Delaware, and the crews on the river cau^dit liis words distinrtl\'. Cioin^ to Xew \'ork, he stopped al Princeton, whrre Tenncnt .uul others had bej^un the education of ]).istors. X.i^sau llall was a Iol;- buihlin;^, twent\- feet s(iuare! lie was at once in hearty ' -.t .^'VJ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) /. V. f/. 1.0 I.I I !| IIIM !M 111112.0 IL25 ■ 1.4 1.8 1.6 '^^^% % o / Photographic Sciences Corporation 2J WEST MAt.^ STREET WmSTER.N.Y. M530 (716; 0/2-4503 fV "^^ 1 (i- 90 THE STr)RV or MKTIIODISM. sympathy with the good men toiling in this day of small things. He assured them that the work was of God, and would not come to naught. They gave him the degree of A. M. They were aided with money given by Methodists, and President Davies was a correspondent and admirer of Wesley. " Though you and I may differ in some little things, I have long loved you and )'our brother, and wished and prayed for your success." Whitefield was for a week in New York. Preaching to sailors, he introduced a storm and a shipwreck so effectively that, at the climax, they sprang to their feet and cried, " Take to the long-boat ! " So were they swept along by his dramatic power. He went to his Orphan House, in Georgia, but soon returned up the coast to collect money for its support. He found the im- pressions, made by his recent visit, fresh and lasting. Already new churches had been formed, and new laborers raised up. Returning to Savannah, he made yet another northward tour, landing at Newport. All New England was astir. In Boston, the Puritan divines welcomed him, and the city was moved — high and low of the people — the faculty and students of Cambridge, the masses from the country, all thronged to hear him ; and twenty thousand heard his farewell discourse, under the trees of the Common, where, nearly fifty years later, Lee preached the first Methodist sermon in Boston ; where Hastings, still later by a century, has been fined and imprisoned, for the same simple act ! He visited the great Edwards at Northampton. At New Haven the Governor heard him, and said, amid his tears, " Thank God for such refreshings on our way to heaven ! " After a tour of seventy-five days, and a hundred and seventy-five sermons, he was again in Savannah, with seven hundred pounds gathered for his enterprise. Never before, or since, has mortal tongue so stirred the hearts of men in America, and its influence was long felt — is still felt. After a year and a half, Whitefield returned to luigland. The painful event now draws near when Wesley and Whitefield, like Paul and Barnabas of old, " parted asunder." They diftered on points of doctrine on which men in the present imperfection of their faculties can never wholly agree, and of whic!"- wc can never be too thankful that they are not essential to salvatijn. HEADWAY OF METHODISM. — WHITEKIELD'S SErAKATK^X. 9 1 On matters of experience the great orator and the great or- ganizer were of one heart and mind. Faith, pardon, renewal, holiness, and the witness of the Spirit, these things they both knew and preached. It was things back of these that Whitefield felt rather than stated. The limited nature of atonement, the fore-ordination that knows and fixes the elect, the final persever- ance that ensures salvation, these were like an instinct with Whitefield. At least his reasoning upon them was lorse and hasty. He saw multitudes unsaved who were, by nature, as good as himself. Why should he have salvation, unless by the special grace of election? His joy and hope was in his firm trust of life in heaven. How could that hold without final perseverance? Thus Whitefield's doctrines were taken from his feelings. (3f logic he was not a master. Wesley was a logician. He severely traced each doctrine to its consequences. He held that a limited atonement, making sal- vation impossible to some, was grievously at variance with the universal call; that final perseverance was hurtful to good morals. Here is not the place for this question of the ages, the solution of which is beyond mortal power. Would that all who differ might differ as these men of God have given an example ! Whitefield writes ; " God himself, I find, teaches my friends the doctrine of election. If I mistake not, my dear and honored Mr. Wesley will be hereafter convinced of it also." Wesley re- plies : "When His time is come, God will do what men cannot — make us both of one mind." They were always one in heart, and each took his own way with sentiments of true and tender affection for the other. Their parting was not then to be regretted. During Whitefield's New England tour, perhaps by his visit to the great Edwards, his Calvinism had grown stronger. Wesley had, meanwhile, been obliged to dismiss Cenick from Kingswood for dissent from his own views of redemption. This school at Kingswood, Whitefield had begun, but Wcsle\' had built, and, of course, was controlling. He carefully stated that Cenick was dismissed for disorder, not for the promulga- tion of the doctrine of election, a course incompatible with Wesley's ideas of charity. "There are several predestinari- ans in our societies, both at London and Bristol, but I never ««' m^' \'i • 92 THK STOKV OF METHODISM. ■< • yet put «iny one out of either because he held that opinion." But Wesley was obli<^ed, before Whitefield's return to speak against the Calvinistic doctrines. His discourse on Free Grace was sent to Whitefield, who published a reply. Returning to London, Whitefield had a sad welcome. A letter of his, against Wesley's views, had been circulated at the Foundry door before service. Wesley, in the desk, before the ey^s of all, tore his copy to pieces, and the congregation did the same. Still, there was a bitter feeling against Whitefield. He called on Charles, and they wept and prayed together for unity. Vet he firmly said that himself and the Wesleys were preaching two .Gospels, and he could not give them the right-hand of fellow- ship. He retracted his wish and promise of peace. His glowing oratory now served h i m sadly, and he preached against the Wesleys by name, and declared his own views rudely, even in Charles' presence. Wesley visited him many times, but no reconciliation could be had. Wesley affirmed that the Methodists who held General Redemption did not wish to separate. WHiTKFiELTvs TABERNACLE. "Whitefield might have lovingly held particular redemption, and we. general, to the end of our lives." From a lake in the Rocky Mountains flow two currents in opposite directions. Each waters its own region, and at last both meet in the Gulf. So Methodism, from the Church of England, in which Whitefield and the Wesleys were priests, took its diver- gent courses. There was as yet no distinct organism. All that could be seen was the flow of a general movement "to spread Scriptural holiness throughout these lands." It is now difficult to tell the story of Methodism as a unit, even on English soil. We must trace the two branches, first one a little way, and then resuming the other. Let us follow Whitefield. His friends rallied about him, and built his famous <^*a^tessaS«i " l;t^ HEADWAY OF METHODISM. — WHITEFIELD'S SEI'ARATIOX. 93 Tabernacle. Crowds came ; Harris came from Wales to help him, as did two of Mr. Wesley's former helpers. He and Wesley were soon in cordial feelinj^, exchanging pulpits, and all things fell out for the furtherance of the Gospel. " My brother and I conferred with him every day," writes Wesley. "May you be blessed in bringing souls to Christ more and more ! " wrote Whitefield to Charles. "Our Lord exceedingly blesses us at the Tabernacle." So they dwelt in unity, and there the blessing lay oh them like the dew of Hermon. Whitefield now entered upon three wonderful years. He had no desire to found a sect or formulate a creed. He knew his own strength and weakness, and he knew his own calling to be as a preacher. He was invited to Scotland, to receive instruction in Church order and the League and Convenant, such as " England had revolted from." He told thera that he was busy with interests more important. He found them sternly set against his fellowship with the English Church, but he preached in many a kirk "from two to seven times a day," and a blessing was on his labors. On a second visit, he was fully appreciated. Arriving at Cambuslang, he preached three times on the day of his coming, the last sermon being from nine in the evening until eleven, and then another preached until one in the morning, while the fields resounded all night with prayer and praise. The people fell like so!diers in battle. Twenty thousand and more met for a great sacrament All day twenty clergymen administered, while there was preaching to those outside the sacramental tents. At night, Whitefield spoke to the mass for an hour and a half with marvel- ous power. In the morning he spoke to near as many, while thousands were bathed in tears ; some wringing their hands, others almost swooning, others crying out and mourning over a pierced Saviour. " Such a universal stir I never saw before." There were never many Methodists, by name, in Scotland, but the whole country felt the spiritual energy of Methodism. The greatest triumph of the Gospel, from Whitefield's lips, was on Moorfields, at Whitsuntide. At the May holidays, then occurring, "the devils held their rendezvous, and I was resolved to meet them in pitched battle." Another such a day has not been known in all the Christian centuries. Starting early, he found, at six o'clock, ten thousand people waiting for the sports V-, m i:^: ■Mi:^ 1 Wm i Wm: ■li^l K f„» ?*' f" '■:'■■.& ■ ,>kii %^- -::ii i m I { i >! ■I \i^■■^^ m 94 THH STORY ()!•' METHODISM. to bcf^in. " I had jjfot the start of the devil." He drew the whole multitude around his field-pulpit. He aj^ain entered the field at noon, when thirty thousand were swarmin*^ over it. " It \ms in full possession of Beelzebub." Players, puppet-showmen, exhib- itors of wild beasts, drummers and trumpeters, were furiously plyiny; their vocations. "Great is Diana of the Ephesians," was his text, and he boldly opened the battle. Loudly and clearly he told them the story of their sins, and called them to the Saviour. The fit^ht was fierce. "Stones, dirt, rotten e^gs, dead cats, were thrown at me ! " "My soul was among lions." He was undaunt- ed, and the throng of lions "were turned into lambs." At six he was again upon the field. "I came and I saw — but what! Thousands and thousands more than before." Satan was present in hot wrath. A harlequin, performing near by, was deserted when Whitefield's black robes were seen. "I lifted up my voice like a trumpet, and many heard the joyful sound." Then the wild crowd surged up, and a comic performer, who, with the rest, complained that the preacher was ruining his business, got upon a man's shoulder, and coming near Whitefield, tried to strike him down with a long, heavy whip, but tumbled down with the violence of his own efforts. The mob then induced a recruiting sergeant, with drum and fife and train of stragglers, to march through the crowd before the pulpit. " Make way for the King's officer ! " cried Whitefield shrewdly. The crowd parted, and the sergeant with his little pomp and circumstance marched through, and the ranks closing behind him furnished an unbroken audience. Then " roaring like wild beasts," and forming a solid column on the margin of the field, they proposed to sweep straight through and bear the preacher along with them. With a long pole for a standard, with drum and shoutings, on they came. Then, quar- reling among themselves, they dropped the pole and the head of their column melted awa\'. many joining "the besieged party." When the tumult, like the sound of many waters, drowned White- field's voice, he, with those around him, would sing until the host was hushed to hear. So he held his ground now preaching, now praying, and now singing, until night came upon the field. He then went to the Tabernacle, where the voice of rejoicing and praise was lifted up for the victory of the day. A victory it was, indeed. The vice and misery of London, that seemed burn for r ! I*! HEADWAY OK MK rilODISM. — WHITKKIKLD's SEPARATION. 95 crime, were bravely met when in their wildest mood, and souls were won from their throngs. From persons that day convicted of sin, a thousand notes came to him requesting prayers, and of these, at one time, three hundred were taken into his society. Many sought marriage, who had been living together sinfully, and many on the road to the gallows were turned to become good citizens. Bad as the crowd was, it was still human and of like passions as those w'ho came to church. Through Whitefield's rare gifts as a vehicle, the spirit touched their moral sense. Strange that Whitefields so seldom appear ! Yet in our da>- these masses of London are reached by many appliances then unknown, and Spurgeon's labors, for instance, may fairl}' rank with Whitefield's. Whitcfield was still in his meridian of strength. He traveled in England and Wales, preaching more than twelve times a week to audiences of rarely less than ten thousand. i i ';r« mm ml i. WESLEY S CLOCK. "),4' 'frOr u- IN 't n i: SELTNA.THE COUNTESS OF HUNTINC^DON. (From the Engraving by A. H. Ritchie J CHAITKR IV. The Countess ov Huntingdon. ETHODISAi was the help and blessing of the poor, and the common people re- ceived it gladly ; yet it was not confined to the poor. "Not many wise, not many mighty, not many noble," became active in its toils, )'et it was not left without witness as to its power to reach and bless even those in the highest station. King George III. was a member of a Method- ist class, at Windsor. Selina, daughter of the Earl of Ferrers, and of remote ro\al lineage, was born four years later than John W^esley. She married the Earl of Huntingdon, whose tastes were for a life of retirement. Her brother was Earl of Chesterfield, " the first gentleman of his century." The loss of several children was effective in giving her feelings a religious turn, which the sisters of her husband the Ladies Hastings, tenderly encouraged. One of these had aided the Methodists at Oxford ; another be- came the wife of Ingham, a Methodist preacher. The Earl was anxious over his wife's feelings, and called Bishop Benson, who had ordained Whitefield, to counsel and restore her. Unequal to the task, the Bishop regretted his ordaining the preacher. " Mark my words ! " said the Countess " on your dying bed you will re- 7 '• y#1 98 ■riiK s'lokv or mf/iiiodis.m, '.■\ fleet upon it with pleasure." ^'ears after, the liishop, dyinij, sent to ask Whitefield's pra)'ers and made him a handsome otTerin^f of money. The ICarl died of a[)oplexy, and liis Countess entered upon a career of Christian usefuhiess hardly equaled in all the history of the Church. She met Wesley, and, as his labors be- came more distinct, she cooperated with his branch of Methodists. He often preached to the noble and courtly company at her res- idence in Donnini^ton Pai'k. She said of his " Christian I'erfec- tioi\:" "It is absolutely the most complete thin^^ I know; the doctrine I hope to live and die by." She chose Whitefield and his Calvinism as nearer to her \iews, but she was the warm, harmonizing friend between the j^^reat labor- ^ ers, so dearly did she love them both. She ■^ brou'dit it about that one i S u n d a y W' h i t c fi c 1 d I' preached and Wesley ^ aided at the Foundry, and on the n e X t, Wesley preached at the Taber- nacle, Whitefield assist- ing, while at the end of the service twelve luin- dred took the Lord's supper at the hands of both. Harris aided the Countess in this work of harmony. She writes : " Thanks be to God, for the love and unanimity that have been displayed. May the God of peace unite us all in the bond of affection ! " This noble lady's part in Methodism, must have its place in every history of the movement, and it may as well now be traced. At her London mansion, the resort of the fashion and aristocracy, she invited Whitefield to address her courtly circle. He became her chaplain, and the hero of Moorfields had a hearing from the noble and eminent, the highest audience in the land. GEORGE III. From the Drawing by R. Corbould. Mil 'rilK CorNTKSS (M IHNIINCDON. 99 Wcslc)' was (Iclii^htccl. " 'I"hc\- will not Ut us conic near them." The polishtd Lord Chesterfield said: "Sir, I will not tell \'ou what I shall tell oliicis. how imich I approxc you;" and he had the I-Aaii^^elist preach in his own private chajjel at Bret!,.' Hall, lli.s wife and her sister embraced the faith. Ilad he but done tiie same! He would not at the close of his brilliant life have written : " I have not been as wise as Solomon, but I have been as wicked, and I can as truK* sa\-, " all is vanity and vexation of spirit." Hume Hstcned with pleasure and surprise. Horace Walpole was able to resist only by extra triflinj^s of his rest- less wit. Bolin^broke, the arch-infidel, heard with approval, and his brother, Lord St. John, embraced the faith of the preacher. To all this brilliant circh , W'hitcfield was as direct and earnest of appeal as in all other places, and his word was with divine power. The Countess of Suffolk, the reigning beaut)' of George Second's Court, Pope's "Good Howard," was under a sermon thrown into an agony of conviction, and declared that the sermon was aimed at herself alone. Thus high and low were sharing the same gracious visitation from above, and the truth had trophies from every grade of society. The Countess went on with enlarging zeal for sacrifice. She sold her jewels; she gave up her equipage, and reduced her hereditary expenditure, and gave to the service of religion more than half a million of dollars. She fitted up halls and theaters for chapels, and built new ones, both in city and countr}'. I^^minent clergymen, as Toplady, author of " Rock of Ages," her own kins- man, Shirley, Joseph Benson (not the Bishop,) and Fletcher, LORD CHESTERFIELD i ;*i ■• Vr, "hri r'jr:^ i\-. m ' I ,1.,; ■ I I 100 '11 1 1". SlOkV <•!' MKIih 'l»lsM, aided her plans, and shared her liberality. Often she made in person e.\lensi\e tours in conii)an\- with noble ladies and promi- nent evan^^elists, Ljivini; to the labors of these amon^^ the people that charm so potent in l'ji<;land — the presence of nobility. What was better, she ^^axe her sure faith and her ardent prayers. Uividini^ l*:nL;land into six 'listricts. she sent one of her best laborers into each, biddinj,^ him preach in every place, l.^r^^c or small, not already " canvassed," and by this system she had at her death reached almost the entire KiiiLjdom. J i .1 m TREVFX'CA COLLEGE. She could build chapels faster than she could find preachers. In an old castle where the Lords of Snowdon had lived before Wales was conquered, at Trevecca, she opened a school for cler^^y- men, in a building which had some time been used by Howell Harris as his school. Chesterfield and other noble friends aided her in the work, for her own income was always overdrawn. She had Wesley's approval. W^'iting to Fletcher, she so stirred his soul with her wise and generous plans, that he dreamed of them •riiF rocxTKss or ihmincdov. lOI in the visions of the iii<;ht. Janu-s Gla/.chrook, at work as collier near Maciele)-, I'Metcher's home, apjiearod before him as the fust student. With the moniin;^ li;^ht (ila/.ebrook was .it h'letcher's door, himself restless with a kindred xision I lie was a Christian of seven )'ears' experience, of no mean i^ift in son<; and prayer, and of sense and judLjmeiit ab(n'e his station. This first student of Trevecca justified its foundinij. After a lonj^^ and useful life he died as Vicar of Helton. Their was no lack of students in his tr.iin ; h^etcher became president, and Joseph Heiison. tin- fourth Methodist Commentator, whose famils' n.imes coincides with that of the Archbishop of Canterbur\' but is not eclipsed b\- it, tof)k charge as head m.ister. No test of doctrine was at first established, but in 1770, Arminian doctrines were excluded, and both I'letcher and Henson u'ere tlis- missed from the collcijje. True conversion .vul devotion to the work of the ministry, whether in the Church .' elsewhere, were the leading" requirements. The Countess i^av'; tliem board, tuition and a "yearly suit of clothes." Th^" ' dy, like Wesley, ne\-er dreamed of se',)aration from the c'-inrch of her ancestors, and of hef heart. In later years however, she was le<;all)' compelled to m.ike avowal of dissent, in order to control her chapels, and make them serve their intended purpose. Thus, " l.ady Huntin^^don's Connection," became distinctly a l)is- sentint^ Church, and Calvinistic in doctrine. It still survives as a small body. At her death at eighty-four, after forty-four years of Christian labor, in widowhood, she held sixty-four chapels ; and, after giving twenty thousand dollars in charities, she left for the support of these the remainder of her estate. Her last words were, "My work is done; I have nothing to do but go to my Father". Her College now flourishes at Cheshunt. Her " Chapels," now doubled in number, since her death, have in doctrinal prac- tice become Congregational, only that they retain a limited use of the Book of Common Prayer. , • JJ ■ii '^1 \W '■ .':^\ ($y -i-fe"''. ^F^i^^^^^'^^M ipl^ ^tot'- f "^f^-i iP^ i,mfWw ■^ ?^S ^^>Aj ■f .^•■''* t ' T:'% o^^--^ K50 k^^^^^A^-;; "^^aii W''' '^^^l ^^^>w JS^ A|^, '''""5;-Vi'j*^''/f''^ E?i^S(?<^;.5^^|i gP^ *-^^^B . ar- W. ■ '■ ■^ttniI»-^^B ■-''■_£-■' ■ » .s ^_; " ■?- <.Jf-^::. -;-:^?S" .-i^ ^^ it:--v., % P ^U;, t'-'v>i m^^:^^- i'* ^r^^^i.©a| ^'^'""ffifflwillif ^IHi^^^H m^3 K^^^^, Br^' ^1 jAr-.-' \,r-; -v *^^ ^^^« .^f^^Ji^dlAliiv ■■w 1 ^^^|K S^*" ■'*'•''■: if w ■i*'',-, ^'i " "''"^5^^'S'* "''^Pv B ■, ^^?^ K^^ *i*.- ;:./'';^ v\ '*^ i m > L;\;j^^ SWjTlc ,' jr- '. f'k, '■■• ■ ^" v' «Lt.'^3TB "'Ji.''-'-!f ■'^/-'""■V">A>.;^^^,.^^f^ ■'/* ^MVr 1^^% y\'^yWSji ".. • ;- » W ^^ ^rw ■ \. f i. j^sSScI ^^^A^^St. ' ' ^- • Ji ■'•X ^ '' "' ■ ." "^ .'; ';:^^^i»vv-;i-T^"^^^^^^ ■ M»i«V^^ ' r * w •'•*>-5ia » ■ ' ■ - 1^* '?■- ^'"'-^^^mm^' r 'r fl '^^ UW^^l': '■"N>&< "^^ ■^;*v" ■ ^ - ::$ '^Pfl y| / i ■sfo- i f i ' &^H '■^ ■■ •jV'flj ....^' 3 '.-■ ■ ''■§ K.V l^^^*>--'- r ■'.;■, '-v -.j-^ ■ A-V. ^P ■'-% 1 : li# ■•'■1 V :.^ ■ 1 i. JOHN WESI.I'.V, (HIS KAVORIIK FORIKAIT AT THE TIME.) From a portrait in possession of the family. Wi' CHAPTER V. The Heroic Times. I^ now go back a little in our narrative. It has already been said that the moral condition of the English people was bad. That of the mining districts was worst of all, worse even than that of the London mob who assailed Whitefield on Whit Monday at Vanity Fair, Wesley early made it a rule for himself, and enjoined it upon his preachers, " to go not to those who need us but to those who need us most." He knew what to expect — that mobs and violence would await him. Magistrates woulo charge upon him the disorders that would arise; the regular clergy would count him an intruder whose presence was a reproach to their own dignified, easy-going wa)'s. In fact, toils, troubles, death, were in the road, but the people were perishing in their sins and there was no other mode of rescue than this. His mother now, like a sinking luminar\', brightened with a final glow his path and his courage. While he was absent from London, Thomas Maxfield, " his second helper," (Joseph Humph- ries being his first,) went to delivering full sermons. Hearing of it, Wesley was alarmed and hurried up to London to check such disorder. In the Foundr)- Parsonage his mother, like Deborah in her tent, was inquiring of the Lord. "Thomas Maxfield has turned preacher, I find," said he. " He is as sure!)' called of God to preach as you are," was her reply. Wesley heard Maxfield. " It is the Lord," he said, ami so Maxfield was first of that long procession of lay preachers who have tramped so many lands and I'j J*, .if 'fl? ■■■ 104 •I'm: SinRV OF MKIIIODISM. won so mail)' triumphs. " La\' preachers," the)' were called, because they hatl no ordination from a l-5ishop's hands. The\- felt the mo\-in_L; of the llol}' Ghost, and as there are times when constitutions must t;i\'e wa}' that Nations may be saved, so here was a time when church order had to L;"ive way that the Gospel mi^ht be preached. Alaxfield proved an able man. Lady Huntins^don said of him : " He is m\' astonishment ; how is God's power shown in weakness !' Soon, within hearing;" of the joy and worship of the throngs in the Foundry, Hf/s. IVcslrv serenelx' passed to the " sweet Base of Tomb. The Grave. BUNHILL FIELDS CEMETERY, .Showing approach to and the grave o{ Mrs. Sisanna Wesley, also the tomb on the base of which Wesley stood to preach his mother's funeral sermon. societies " on high. She asked her children to sing, at the moment of her iicpartHVi\ " a psalm of praise to God " that she was now to be with Christ. John and live of her daughters mingled their voices in the sweet, sad exercise. Helpers now arose, and soon twenty-three were itinerating, following the example of their untiring leader. A remarkable man, John Nelson, appears. He had been rcligiousl}- reared, he was happ)' in person, famil)- and estate, :m^'< Mrs SUSANNA WESLKY IN OLD .GE. From a portriul In po>ises.sion of the family. urn ■f.s- ^'m 1 \: io6 THE STORY OK METHODISM. ' M' ■t ^1 I I I • ifi 111 ;; I ) ■ after the modest standard of a mechanic, a stone-mason. He found that he couhl not Hve by bread alone. His hun<^ry soul grasped st''angely after problems of good and evil, of life and destiny, and he spent hours after work in noble longings and inward discussions. He was sure that true religion would relieve these wants, and towards this his anxieties all turned. But how to find it? He was already of high morality, but far from rest. His fellow workmen jeered and insulted him without disturbing his strange calmness. Only when they took away his tools to be given back when he should consent to drink with them, did he fight them until they agreed that he was better let alone, for " he had as bra\ e a heart as ever En- glishman was blessed with." Going from his home at Rirstal to work in London, he visited, on Sundays, Church and Chapel, Quaker quietand Romish ritual, but nowhere did he find relief He had resolved to abide by the Church and plod along in the dark, when Whitefield's sermr)ns at Moorfields gave him a new, strange shock. He ccnild not sleep, unless to awake from dreadful dreams with sweat and shivering. Then Wesley came to preach at the same place. At first sight of him Nelson felt that this man could finish for him what Whitefield had begun. " This man can tell the secrets of m\- breast ; he has shown me the remedy for my wretch- edness, even the blood of Christ." Wesley's sermon seemed to be all for him, He was not long in coming to the peace which he so long had been seeking. His simple comrades thought him ruined. jOHM NELSON. THE HEROIC TIMES. 107 They thoiif::jht he was going too far, his business would suffer, his family would starve. "His having heard Wesley would be the ruin of him." " I blessed God that Wesley was ever born. I learn from him that my chief business in this world is to get well out of it." The family that lodged him wanted to be rid of him, for mischief would come of "so much praying and fuss as he made about religion." He prepared to leave. Then they thought : "What if John is right and we wrong?" One said: " K God has done for you anything more than us, show us how we may hnd the same mercy." He took them to hear Wesley, and not in vain. Nelson was working on the Exchequer building. On the ground that it was a National edifice, the contractor required him to work on Sunday. "The King's business requires haste." Nelson's answer was that he would not work on the Sabbath for any man in England, except to quench fire or to do something as needy of instant help. "Then thou shalt lose thy place." " I would rather starve than offend God." "What hast thou done that thou makest such an ado about religion? I always took thee for an honest man and could trust thee with five hundred pounds." "So you might, and have never lost a penny by me." "But I have a worse opinion o^ thee now than ever." "Master, I have the oc'ds of you there, for I have a much worse opinion of myself than you can have." John kept his place, and neither he nor his fellows worked again on Sunday. He wrote to his wife and kindred in Yorkshire, urging upon them the life that he was now leading. In the joy of his new mind, he fasted that he might give the value of his dinner once a week to the poor. He hired a comrade to hear Wesley, and this man declared it the best deed ever done for him, for it brought himself and his wife to the Saviour. Glorious dreams came now in which John Nelson in his flush of strength always conquered Satan ! Once in his dreams he saw Satan dashing among the people as a huge red bull. He bravely grasped the monster's horns, threw it on its back and trod upon its neck! John Nelson is of the style of Aidan, the apostle of North Eng- land a thousand years before, v brave high-hearted man, equal to any emergency. So kind, so strong, so clear of head and ■ 'I I ■'I' i "i I. m ■ri'5 I loS rilK sroRV OF MKIIIODISM. ■I r' "generous of tcm])cr, w itt\- ami frarUss, he was tlic hero of the lowest classes, and Southe\-, the jioetic historian, i^ixes the stone- mason a warm admiration. He founded Methodism in ^'orkshire. Returnin_q; to l^irstal, he be«.^an to work for the saxinL; <»f iiis own kiiulred, I lis first converts were his two brothers, an aunt and two cousins, and these cost no little t'flort, for at first the>- thouL;iit John deluded of the de\il and were not easil\' ars^ued out of that. He then read the l>ible, which i^rew brii;hter to his mind, spoke and prax'ed witii those who came into his own house. Soon his house became too small, and standinij in the door, he spoke to outsiders as well. There was a con\'ersion e\-ery da\' ; drunk- ards became sober and the Sabbath was kept ; the face of the villai^e was changed. \\'esle\- heard of Nelson and came to help him. To his surprise he found a preacher and a congregation, and took both into his growing sx'stem. Our Story has alread)- told a little of \Vesle)''s work in New- castle. It was reallv after this \-isit to Nelson that he began reg- ul.ir operations there. The plowsliare of the Gospel was never drixeii into a wilder soil. He at once began the erection of a chapel, and in all the region of the colliers the work of grace went on. " It ciintinually rises," said he, "step by step." Now, too, he was a week in Epworth, preaching from his father's tombstone to throngs that filled the church-yard, the drunken curate forbidding him the pulpit. A queer incident shows the nature of the work. Some angry opposers procured the arrest of a few Methodists, and these were taken before a magistrate in a neighboring town. "What have they done?" The accusers had prepared no legal charge. One found his voice and said: "W'h)', tlie}' pretend to be better than other peoj)le, and, besides, they pra)' from morning till night." "Hut have they done notiiing else?" "Ves, sir," said one, "they lOttvcrtcd my wife. Before she went among them she had such a tongue, and now she is as quiet as a lamb." "Carry them back, tlien, and let them convert all the scolds in town," and the parties were sent out of court. In every place the converts be- came blameless and harmless. Methodism had now reached the time when it must declare itself in an intelligible form, that its own people and the world Till-; liKROlC TIMES. 109 micjht know its nature and its purposes. It was already founded. Chapels had been built; preachers were risini; ; all the dis- tinctix-e usat;es of the societies had come in si^ht. A platform was now necessary, that all mi^'ht clearly know what was re- quired of its members. Now appears Wesley's genius for statemanship. Mis declar- ation — The General Rules of the United Societies — for simphcity, JOHN WESLEY'S STrUY IN THE ORPHAN HOUSE, NEWCASTLE. accuracy and adaption, has no superior amon^^ like documents in Church or State. It is still the nucleus of Methodist law and usa^e, and with almost no amendment is vital in all Methodist communities. It contains no formal doctrine, but it is full of the plainest duties. In the American Churches, it is usually read once a year in every society, and it can no more be superseded », !> i", ::' :' ■ ■' ,--7' ■w ' ^^' •■':;' i , : :^-|:;'! 'fill I - ' . i : '■■ '' i, ! ;■ . ■'■•t 4<' wi\ ,S|i? Hi' .' ,1 iiV^ I ^5 l! ' J I 10 TIIH STORV ()!• MKIIIODISM. liil; than the Christian life of the Xew Testament which it so faithfully represents. Such a society, it says, is no other than a company of men havinj^ the form and seekintj the power of <^odliness, united in order to pray together, to receive the word of exhortation and to watch over each other in love, that they may help each other to work out their salvation. Members are arranj^cd in classes of about twelve, one of whom is styled the leader. He meets them weekly to inquire, to talk of their soul's welfare, and to receive their gifts for the support of the society, and these he duly passes on to the stewards and preacher. Only one condition of entrance to the classes is established — a desire to flee from the wrath to come, and to be saved from their sins. This desire will be shown, first, djy doitig no harin. Then comes a remarkable transcript of Christian morals : "By avoiding evil of every kind, especially that which is most generall)' practiced." Then follows a partial hst of these evils, such as before Wesley's eyes were wasting the resources and lowering the civilization of England ; such as mar social order and ruin human souls in all land and ages. "Drunkeness, the buying or selling of spirituous liquors or drinking them, unless in cases of extreme necessit)'." H jre Wesley was far ahead of his time, and, even in our day, so long after, we sec the truth hardly more clearly than he. Fraud towards the State : buying or selling goods that have not paid the duty, the matter in which men are so easily led to quibble, is by name forbidden. " Borrowing, without a prob- ability of paying, or taking up goods without a probability of paying for them." How lofty the Christian sense of commercial honor ! Then comes solemn admonition of things in which a lively conscience must always be the judge, and the conscience must be enlivened by the Holy Ghost, in order to judge rightly: *' Doing what they know is not for the glory of God ; as the putting on of gold and costly apparel, the taking of such diversions as can not be used in the name of the Lord Jesus : the singing those songs or reading those books that do not tend to the knowledge or love of God; softness and needless self-indulgence; laying up treasures on earth." If these things seem severe, so is the regimen of Christianity itself a self-denial and a self-control, and if here is a military sternness ofdiscipline, so are Christians called to be soldiers. THE UKROIC TIMES. I I I After this statement of thin<;s not to be done, comes the sulj- gestion of active, positive goodness. Doing good of every kind to the bodies and souls of men — feeding, clothing and visiting; re- proving, instructing and encouraging; "trampHng under foot that enthusiastic doctrine that we are not to do good unless our hearts be free to it ;" i.e., luilcss ivc feci like it. Especial good must be done to them of the household of faith, "because the world will love its own, and them only;" employing them preferably to others, buy- ing of one another and helping each other in business. Diligence and frugality, patience and meekness are illustrated and enjoined. Thirdly, come attendance on all the ordinances of God — such as public worship, the ministry of the Word, either read or ex- pounded, the Lord's Supper, family and private prayer, and fast- ing or abstinence. "These are the General Rules of our societies ; all of which we are taught of God to observe, even in His written Word, the only rule of our faith and practice ; and all these we know His Spirit writes on truly awakened hearts." Then follows a solemn and affecting statement of the treatment of those who ob- serve not these Rules. There is no trial, or expulsion. " He hath no more place among us; we have delivered our own souls." These simple rules are not for doctrine, but for behavior. They were for those who were born to a creed ; who were assumed to be already members of the Church of England, as the Wesleys themselves were. They were to promote piety under the creed, and inside of the Church, nor was there ever a Church organiza- tion in which these rules would not be as salutary as in the English Church. They guide to good citizenship, to good church- fellowship, to active benevolence and to personal piety. "O," says Wesley in his Journal, "that we may never make anything more or less the term of union with us, but the having the mind that was in Christ, and the walking as He walked ! " Following these Rules came, in 1743, the definite beginning of the circuit-system. He found that it would never do for him- self and his helpers to ramble, to touch and go, leaving the im- pression made to the unsettled chances of the future. He at once "resolved not to strike one stroke in one place where he could not follow up the blow." Himself was still an explorer, and some of his helpers served as pioneers, but if in any place he saw proofs of good, he fixed a simple plan by which, at a fixed time. 1' 1/ ■I ''' '.Ml !' < l> ;? wmmm tmmm 112 '11 li; .sl< »R\' (»1 Mi; I 11' M'l^.M, Hivi ff :l ■m a j^ivcn man sIkuiIcI proacli tlujrc. 'Vhu-^ the itim'rancx' unfolded the circiiit-systcni, which sciiiictl caii\' to assume the harmony ' ' * and rei^ularitN' of the \-erv sohir s\'stem in the sk\-. Straniie phx'sical effects were frecjin-nt under his preacliing, and at Newcastle the\' were now speciallx' frecpient. I le examineil these closelx', but the\- puzzletl him and he ne\er clearly solvetl them. Who indeed has \et solved them? The\- are of the many thini^s that baffle human philosoph)'. He found that the people alfected were in perfect health, were free from .dl ph)'sical ten- denc)' to convulsions. It was under the preachin;^ or in meditation upon it that they dropped down, lost their strei\L;th, and usually had violent jiains. Such affections (often called "the power") have attended the Gospel in .America, and have not been confined to Methodism. Mr. Wesley saw no i)hysical cause of these thinj^s and he was sure that the\- were not of (lod. He therefore assij^netl them to .Satan, as mimickin*^ the work of Ciotl to discretlit it, or as teasini^r those who would come to Christ. He carefulh' states all the s)"mptoni->, ])]ienomena and secpiel of the cases, but the cause per- plexed him. Ch.uies was wiser and, sure that much was counter- feit, he laid his liaiul firmly on these disonlers and was little troubled with them, "and the Lord was with us." Charles was now called to the test of his hero'c temper. John had j)reacheLl in Leeds, afterwards a !.,M'eat center of ^k'thodism, and, on his return to Bristol, Charles went north to Wednesbur\' and Walsal. Here, as he [)reached from the stcjis of the market-house, a mob came in like ;i flood and stones (lew ;u-o\ind him, often hittin;^ but not hurtin;.;- him. He w.as driven from the steps but he rcc^ained them three times, hnished his sermon, and was pronouncing the benediction when a final rush swept him off. He gave thanks to God and passed unhurt through the midst of the rioters. Charles was a poet, calm, longing, sensitive and often melan- choly. His lofty sense of duty took precedence of his fears and his imagination flamed into glorious, heroic emotion, when peril was around him, and he was invincible. He wrote as he had often felt and seen : "Yea, let men rage, since Thou will spread Thy shadowing wings above my head; Since in all pain Thy tender love Will still my sure refreshment prove." ^ » •^ ^ •'s. ^ s- •f ft' ■ i\ ' '.♦ • '"> '■'•',i <• ■ ■s \\ ■ ■j ,^i:l i h :l!f'.''l 1'*' iris! , flli; 'tiji i I fi I' i ,1 *, I- ■ ' ' ■f. 9. . ^ l( ,:' h K "ii , 114 TlIK M<»KV OK Mi;i Ih 'I»I>M. This hvmii was inspired at Sheffield, where he came fro m us. W'alsal and where "hell from beneath was moved to oppose "The floods bewail to lift up their voice," at his entrance. A militarj' officer letl the mob. Stones flew, hittini; the desk and l)eople, so that Charles announced that he would ;^n) out antl face the foe in the field, lie i:a\e the furious officer, who had "the wliole armv o f al lens at his back, a tract of Joh n s ,\d vice to a Soldier." and then, while stones were hittinu" him in the face, In CHAR but the mob came howlini^on. .All the nu)bs he had seen "were as Iambs to these." They set to })ullin;4 down the preachini;- house "while we were pra)-inL;' and praisiny; (iod. It was a glori- ous time with us, and many found the Spirit of Glor)' resting upon them." The rioters went on all night, tr)'ing" to break the door and tearing down one end of the house, Charles calmly slept. "I belie\'e 1 got more sleep than an)' of my neighbors." no n ThcM stru( presc an h head TliK IIKKOIC I1MK>. iJ5 He was cxp()iiiulin|4 ;it five tlio next ni()riiiii<:j and preached later in thi- town. After he went fnmi the chapel the mob left not one stoiu; of it upon another. The)' afterward followed him, broke in the windows of his loilj^in^, and proposed to tear it down. Weary but fearless, he "fell asleep in fwc minutes in the dis- mantled room." He sank into the nursiiiLi" of sleep, that knits up the ravelings of care, with the words: "Scatter ihou the peojile that delight in war ! " y\t five the ne.\t morning he com- forted his bretliren and went on to other places of toil and danger. It came to his knowledge that the cler^)- of Sheffield iiad caused this mob, so denouncing Methodism as to make the people think that whoever even killed them was doin^ Goil service. ST. IVES. At St. Tves, where he was preaching soon after, and which became a strong center of Methodism in the west of I^ngland, a mob broke the windows of the chapel, tore up its seats and carried away everything but its stone-walls, while Charles looked on silently. When the\' fiercely swore that he should preach there no more, he at once began to proclaim the Great Redemi)tion. They Hftcd their clubs upon him, but, strange enough, never struck him. They beat and rudely trampled even the women present, but these and all were full of enduring courage. After an hour, the crowd fell into a quarrel of their own, broke the head of their own captain, the town-clerk, and left Wesley and his /'►' ♦il ii6 THE STORV > I' m ■Ml !' i,:> III pit' ji \f-\ ii8 THE STORY OV METHODISM. in the "Black Country." A mob bore him in the night and a violent rain, to a magistrate in town and to another two miles away; neither would rise from his bed. Another mob, led by an Amazon, took him from the first, the leader knocking down several men in his defence, until she was herself overcome. A man aimed blows with an oaken staff at Wesley, any one of which would have killed him, but strangely not one hit him. He was then struck on his breast and mouth, but felt no pain. He calmly watched the mob, crying, like the roar of waters, "Knock his brains out! down with him! kill him at once! crucify him!" "No, let's hear him first," cried others. He broke out aloud into WESLF.V AND THE OSTLER. prayer. The leader, a prize-fighter, was overawed and suddenly said: "Sir, I will spend my life for you ; follow me, and not one soul here shall touch a hair of your head." A butcher took effective hold of four or five of the rioters ; others turned pro- tectors, and all together opened the way and guarded Wesley to his lodgings. The captain of this mob was, from the moment of his turning, in deep grief for his doings. He soon joined the society he was bent on destroying. "What do you think of my brother?" asked Charles. "Think of him — that he is a man of God ; and God was on his side, when so many of us could not THE IIKKDIC TIMES. 119 kill one man." So the plowshare of the Gospel subsoiled society. The clergy and the magistrates usually opposed it and approved the mobs, but ail these outbreaks drew the attention of the com- mon people. Wesley and his now forty-five itinerants felt the crisis to be upon them. This was no time to flinch from their calling. When minds were alert and mobs were rife, impressions fresh, deep and lasting could be made. Up and doing! Peter Martin, an old inhabitant of Helstone, who was sexton of the parish church for sixty-five years, used to tell a story of Wesle\''s deter- mination and courage. This man was ostler at the London Inn, and as Wesley's coachman did not know the country so far west, he had to drive him to St. Ives. When they reached Ha\ie, the sands which separated them from St. Ives were covered by the rising tide. A captain of a vessel came up, and begged them to go back at once. Wesley said he must go on, as he had to preach at a certain hour. Looking out of the window, he shouted, "Take the sea ! take the sea!" Soon the horses were swimming, and the poor ostler expected ever\' moment to be drowned ; but Wes- ley put his head out of the window. His long white hair was dripping with the salt water. "What is your name, drixer?" he asked. " Peter," said the man. " Peter," he said, fear not: thou shalt not sink." At last the driver got his carriage safely over. Wesley's first care, he says, was "to see me comfortably lodged at the tavern;" he got warm clothing, good fire, and refreshment for his driver; then, totally unmindful of himself, and drenched as he was with the dashing wa\-es, he proceeded to the chapel, where he preached according to apj: ointment. WESLKY'S rAl'.LE. i ^1 'i ''U I; i 'I Itii A ;i r II ' I. ' '( 1, «; I!. - I" II A. nit t . It " \ M MuNUMEN r OF JOHN AND CHARI-liS WE SLEY, IN WESTMlNolERAUBEY. 'm ! ! • »> chapti:r VI. Battles and Victories. HE strife grew no cooler. Charles Edward Stuart, grandson of James II., who had in 1688 beendri\en from the ICnglish throne, tried to regain what his grandfather had lost. With seven men he landed on an island of the Hebrides. The Scotch of the North rose to help him, but the battle of Cul- loden brought his effort to a bloody end. Among the stories that ran about Wesley, one was that he was an agent of the Pretender, a Romanist in disguise, amply supplied \vith money to aid in the ruin of England. This gave a new pretense to the mobs and Walsal and Wednesbur)- were roused again. The houses of Methodists were wrecked, and personal violence most shamefulU' indulged. Proprietors threatened to discharge their workmen if they refused to join the mob, and for a week the villages for four or five miles were actuall)- in ci\'il war. The same proprietors promised to check the mob if the Methodists would sign a pledge never to receive or invite a i)reacher. Not one would sign ! " We have lost t s>' now ily will n ot, to save them, wrong our consciences. It was P 'in ted in London that these " disturbances " were because the Methodists *' upon some pretended insults from the Church party, had risen against the Government." Wesley knew that was a lie, and he ,„, .- ■•■■■ »' • u " ::••«■_? It ■..V-, J; IS V. . m it'-|j J^ !i '^i' ^' 'f W« 1;,* ti ill i. '^1 ?:i '^^'^ m I ' f ''■t: 122 THE STORY OF MP:TH0DISM. >''^ :1ii'i ;»ii :r II.: Ill « hastened to face the mob. He found war, indeed. The mayors and magistrates of a dozen towns, from Dudley to Birstal, were hounding the mob to riot. Only here and there a Quaker had done anything to help his poor brethren. Wesley's presence did wonders; his people took joyfully the spoiling of their goods, and did not render evil for evil. Wesley's spirit rose. " The rocks melted " under his preaching, and some of his finest hymns, sung now for their poetic merit, but then as very war-songs, were "composed amid these storms. In Cornwall, too, the chapel at St. Ives was destro\-ed. Wesley went there and found with joy GWENNAP PIT, CORNWALL. From a Photograph taken in 1887. that his people were faithful. Some of the converts had been the roughest men of the region. They now came to suffer for the faith, and they endured with patience and courage. There was a pub'' .'St, for fear of a French and Spanish invasion. Wesley h'. . Sic day, a sermon in which his Methodists were denounced aft ' ;i, f and enemies of England. At sundown he preached at Gwcrin.ip This is a natural amphitheatre, which had for him the charm of a natural temple. " I stood on the wall in the calm, still evening, with the setting sun behind me, and almost an VMai^^ KATTLES AM) VICTORIES. 123 innumerable multitude before, behind and on either hand. Many likewise sat on the little hills, at some distance from the bulk of the congregation. Hut they could all hear distinctly what I read : ' The disciple is not above his Master,' and the rest of those com- fortable words which are day by day fulfilled in our ears." Down to his old age he preached once a year in Gwennap. He says of his vast gatherings there : '• I think this is one of the most mag- nificent spectacles to be seen this side of heaven. No music is to be heard on earth comparable to the sound of these many thousand voices, all harmoniously joined in singing praises to God and the Lamb." So Wesley held, in these trying times, the conquests which we saw him making in Cornwall. Some of his preachers were now taken as soldiers, among them John Nelson. He had been having his full share of trials and triumphs. At Nottingham, a sergeant of the army said to him, with tears : " Sir, in the presence of God and all this people. I beg your pardon, for I came on purpose to mob you ; but, when I could get no one to assist me, I stood to hear you and am convinced of the deplorable state of my soul ; I believe you are a servant of the living God." He then kissed Nelson and went away weeping. At Grimsby the parish clergyman hired a drum- mer and supplied liquor to the mob, until they destroyed the house where Nelson was stopping. Before it was over, the drum- mer with tears threw away his drum and melted under the sermon. At Leeds he stayed awhile, hewing stone by day and preaching at night. At Birstal, his home, the lying rector reported him as a vagrant, and he was arrested to do duty in the army. A towns- man offered five hundred pounds for his exemption, but in vain. " I am as able to get my living by my hands as any man in Eng- land, and you know it," said he to his accuser. To his weeping friends, he said, as he marched off : " God hath his w a}' in the whirlwind ; only pray for me that my faith fail not." At Bradford he was put in a dungeon under a slaughter-house. " It smelt lik( a pig-sty, but my soul was so filled with the love of God that it was a paradise to me." Even there he made the usual impression. A soldier offered to answer for him, and an enemy of Methodists secured him a bed. People outside handed him food, water and candles, and joined in his hymns. He shared their bounty with his fellow-prisoners. His wife and young children came. She I. ! t :..! I n iff '^']p-^i^ nH'-^ i' ; . f » .;!:! 134 'I IFF, S'I'OKV itl' MKIIIoIUSM. saitl, thi'()ii<^Hi the lu)lc of the door : " l*'car not ; the cause is God's, for which >'ou are here, and lie will j)lead it iliinself. 'le that feeds the vouner ra\ens will be mindful of mc and the children. to He will L;i\e you strength; lie will perfect what is lackini; in us, and brini; us to His rest." Nelson answered this brax'e wt)nuin: " I cannot fear either man or devil, so long" as I lind the love of God as I now do." HAITLKS AND Vl( ToRlI'.S. 125 He was sent to Leeds. He thought of the Pilgrim's Profjress, for liumlrecls in the street ^^a/ed at him throii<^h the iron i;ate. Offers were made to bail him out, but in \aiii. /\t nit4lit a hundred persons worshijied with him in the jail. J le was taken to York, wliere "hell from beneath was moved to meet him," so was Methodism hated there. As armed troops guarded him th''ou^i;h the streets, people shouted from streets and windows as if one who had laid waste the Nation were captive. It was to him "as if there liad been none in the city but God and me!" "WESLEY'S VINK," OXFORD, MIOUING HIS STUDY WINDOW, ([■'rum a I'hotogr.ipli laktii i.i 1887 J He admonished the officers when they swore, and the\- cowered before his eye and word. The corporal, who dressed him for parade, shook as if he had the pals\'. He said he would bear arms as a cross, but would not u^e them. To flight was not ai^ree- able to his conscience, and he would not harm his conscience for any man on earth, lie had a word for all who approached him. He j)reached to a threat compan)' who wished to L;et his \'iews, and they said: "This is the doctrine that ought to be preached,, let men say what they will against it." (,;ry \-.- "' '^' "^ 1 .. ','•> ' vMn ■^vi- '-d ."-rii , .•»~i'»i ■ -it ■■ •'*? ,. ■'■> ('". 1 ^w ■1; .'v.';-''' -. 1 1 ;' ■■(■ ^^HHHIBilll 126 THE STOKV OV METHODISM. El,! lit; ' 15! 1! ' A young ensign put him in prison for preaching and for re- buking his profanity. " It caused a sore temptation to arise in me, to think that a wicked, ignorant man should thus torment me, and I able to tie his head and heels together. I found an old man's bone in me ; but the Lord lifted up a standard, when anger was coming on like a flood, else I should have wrung his neck to the ground and set m>' foot upon him." After three months Lady Huntingdon procured his discharge, and he went to his spiritual warfare. Now fell the first martyr to Methodism. Thomas Beard, a preacher, was in Nelson's regiment by a like process. He was brave, but his health failed and he died in hospital, where "he still praised God continually." "Servant of God, well done!" Wesley was deeply affected by his death, and Charles wrote upon it two of his best hymns. It was in August of 1744 that Wesley preached his last ser- mon before the University at Oxford, " I am now clear of the blood of those men." He remembered that on that day in 1662, the century before, his ancestor, John Wc^tley, had, with two thousand clergymen, been turned from parish, house and home. "I am only hindered from preaching, and that in a kind of hon- orable manner; it being determined that, when my turn came next, they would pay another person to preach for me." They respected his general character. They little thought they were getting rid of the most illustrious man that Oxford has ever pro- duced, Wesley's profile, in a handsome mural monument in marble, looks down from the wall of Westminster Abbey upon memorials of men of whom he was peer, but at Oxford is shown only the room that saw his studies and his prayers. JL9 CHAPTER VII. The First Conference. APIDLY and widely was the work of Methodism extending. No very defi- nite plan had yet been framed for the work of the itinerants, and to Wesley, with whom order was instinct, some broader provision seemed necessary. Circuits might clash with each other ; men might vary from uniformity in doctrine, and even practice and disci- in the societies might decline. To meet 3ed of the case he wrote to several clergy- i to his helpers, asking them to meet London and give him "their advice respecting the best method of carrying on the work of God." This produced the First Methodist Conference. It opened in the Foundry on Monday, June 25, 1744. The Lord's Supper was on the Sunday administered to its members, and on the Monday morning Charles preached before them. There were present besides the VVesleys, four regular clergymen of the Church. These were John Hodges, Henry Piers, Samuel Taylor and John Meriton. Of lay preachers there were Thomas Max- field, Thomas Richards, John Bennet and Jolm Downes. These good men felt the importance of their errand in this gathering. They looked upon themselves as come to lay the base of what >5 Si M ■'■' i '■4\ I! ' -ill; M . '* ^MM. I'S mm 1 ,; < 1 V li . I ■ ' 14 i i w. f I? rf Ifi >"<. 128 TlIK SiOKV ()V MKinohlSM. building mij^ht rise, whose magnitude they could not foresee. They therefore, as wise master-builders, proceeded in simpHcity and sincerity of mind. The}- inquired "as Httle chikhx-n who have everythin^f to learn." " liow far does each a^Mx-e to submit to the unanimous judgment of the rest?" This nKJSt serious question, which still involves Methodist freedom, was answered. "In speculative thinj^^s each can submit only so far as his judgment shall be convinced ; in every practi- cal point, so far as we can without wounding our own consciences." 1 HK FIRST CONKKRENCK. "Shall we be afraid of thoroughly debating »rv"e''y question that may arise?" "What are we afraid of? Of overturning our first principles? If they are false, the sooner they are overturned the better. If they are true, they will bear the strictest examination." The proceedings of the Conference, carefully preserved, show that these first principles of free, fearless discussion were not violated. After an interval of prayer, the next question was: "What shall we teach?'' next "What shall \\<^ do?'' The first related to the- ology. Here all dogmatics are avoided. These were already V Tin-: IIKST foMKkl'NCE. 129 amply given. Only the doctrines relating at once and directly to personal religion, without which one cannot be saved, were con- sidered. Care was taken to define Repentance, l-'aith, Justifica- tion, Sanctification and the Witness of the Spirit. These are still the "Five Points" of Methodism, and nothing unrelated to these was discussed. "What shall we do?" Secession from the cluirch found no favor, but " How far is it our duty to obey the Bishops?" was a hard question. "In all things indifferent; and, on this ground of obeying then., we should obey the Canons as far we can with a safe conscience." The General Rides were approved. Directions as to the best methods of preaching were given, such as have never since been improved. In i. /ery sermon the lay-preachers were: first, to in- vite ; second, to convince ; third, to offer Christ ; then to build up. Wesley was still slow to extend his lay-ministry. His heart was fondly hoping to see the fire now kindled, warm the clergy of the Church. "We believe that the Methodists will either be thrust out, or will leavc^ the whole Church." Both these things have been done! "Can we have a seminary for laborers?" There was no money but the decision was affirma- tive : " If God spare us till another Conference." At that next Conference it was asked : " Can we have a seminary for laborers yet?" "Not till God gives us a proper tutor," was the answer, then. These educational longings were worthy of a movement that began in a University. They fore- showed the vast educational system, that counts to-day in one branch of Methodism, in one country, more than a hundred in- stitutions of learning. Lady Huntingdon entertained the Conference. Wesley preached in her mansion from: "What hath God wrought?" in- troducing her system of household sermons, that made her Lon- don residence a chapel, Two of Wesley's clergymen took part in the services, and his four lay-preachers sat with them, their peers in calling if not in churchly order. On Friday the Conference adjourned. The work before them was not yet to organize an ecclesiastical body. It was to bring men to Christ, to create a body of sincere believers and practical workers. Providence would guide the future. Wesley now felt called to a defense of his opinions and prac- 9 t ' I. i 'M * * I I it '^/i I30 THE sroRV OF METHODISM. 1 .1. i ll! < .,. Vh W' ) . ticcs in a wider and iiKirc lastint^ manner. His Ivirncst Appeal to Men of Reason and Relit;ion is eloquent, bold and thou5.^httul. It speaks of facts, plain to all eyes. There had come in five years a great reform in England. "Christ is preached, and sinners are converted to God." The inference, therefore, cannot be denied, that "God is now visiting His people." He defends his open-air preaching. " r or preaching inward salvation, attainable by faith, we were forbid to preach any vnore in those churches where, till then, we were gladly received. \Ax' now declare the grace of God, who dwelleth not in temples made with hands, in all places of His dominion. We declare it wherever a door is opened, nor dare we refrain." He turns upon the regular clergy. "There are among yourselves ungodly, unholy men. A clergyman, so drunk that he can scarcel)' stand, may (as at Epworth) in the presence of a thousand people set upon another clergyman, of the same Church, both with abusive words and open violence. Where, then is your zeal against these?" This book had its effect, but Wesley's power was in his daily labor, bringing the people to the Saviour, and framing them into Christian order and fellowship. " Bv their fruits ve shall know them." Charles, now sfoing to Cornwall, where persecution had just raged so fiercely, writes, "What an amazing work has God done in one year!" The preacher, with five or si.x sermons a day, could not meet the de- mand for preaching. The morals of the whole people had im- proved. At a jail delivery, not one felon was found in prison; a thing utterl\' unknown before. A wrestling match was given up. "all the Gwennap men being struck off the devil's list, and found wrestling against him, and not for him." At the amphitheater he spoke for three hours, "yet knew not how to stop," to thousands on its green slopes. All the societies were growing, and wheie persecution had been fiercest, "our Lord rides on triumphant." The wars of the Continent, in which England was now in- volved, "the war of the Austrian Succession," called for soldiers. Preachers and members were impressed for the service. In Cornwall, John Wesley was arrested. When the arresting party found they had a gentleman and a clergyman, they excused him for a day, and never again troubled him. That evening, he was, while preaching, dragged away, "for his majesty's service," but THE FIRST COM'ERENCE. 131 was soon returned and completed his sermon. The next day a mob assailed him at Falmouth, and his escape was narrow. Hut in the midst of alarms, he was amazed at the success of the truth. "I never remember so great an awakening." Soon he writes, "We are here in a new world, as it were, of peace, honor and abundance; how soon I should melt away in this sunshine! but the goodness of God suffers it not." Nelson, too, at York, where he had been impressed, now preached with great success. His manner touched the soldiers. One day, an officer who had come to pull him down, while others threw squibs at him, knelt on the ground, with tears, to beg prayers for God's mercy, declaring that he would lead a new life. This leads to Methodism in the army. The soldiers were of the worst classes, vagrants, and dangerous men in part, and the officers were wicked. ("Our army swore terribly in Flanders," said Uncle Toby.) Methodist soldiers from Wesley's societies at once began to preach in camp. Six or seven, with often a thousand hearers, were doing there the work of Wesley and Nelson, and hundreds were converted. John Evans, in the heat of battle at Dettingen, devoted his life, if spared, to the service of God. He found an old Bible in a baggage-wagon, and a Methodist soldier who showed him the way of life. He opened two preaching places in Ghent, and "preached and lived the Gcspel" until his death in the battle of Fontenoy. Military life brings out character in strong develop- ment ; and two of these soldiers claim a brief notice. The soldier who led John Evans to Christ was John Haine. He was a ner- vous, sad-hearted man, and went as dragoon for relief in the ex- citement of war, but between its excitements came deeper des- pondency. Bunyan's "Grace Abounding," helper' 'lim. He re d, he fasted, he prayed seven times a day. At K ,igth "the Lord took away my sorrow, and filled my soul with peace." Then his sorrow came back, but, before he left for the seat of war, light reSirned. He fought seven hours at Dettingen, and in the carnage, "my heart u"\s filled with love, peace and joy, more than tongue can toil." Sampson Staniforth then came with his regiment. He was a desperate man, who up to twenty-five hail never uttered a prayer, n^ ,!.;■■(; •a! *y«^ .ji. 132 THE STORY OF METHODISM. , ii '■) or known what the Bible is, or had a religious thought. He went into the war for its wild, reckless freedom. In his regiment was a sad man, Mark Bond, who read and prayed much and drank no rum. He believed himself forever lost for blasphemy, and he had entered the war, hoping to be killed, and thus avoid sui- BATTLE OF FONTENOY. cide ! This sorrowful soul found under the words of Haine and Evans the peace of God. He felt at once strangely and strongly drawn towards the terrible Staniforth. The latter being thus led to the soldiers' meeting was, for the first time, conscious of religious thoughts. V'l THE FIRST CONFERENXE. 133 " I was knocked down like an ox." Bond had a piece of an old Bible. " I can do better without it than you ; " for this man, whose constant cry now was for God's mercy, had never read a passage in his life. Soon he saw "the Saviour on a cross amid parting clouds," and " all my guilt was gone." The champion was con- verted ; ten, at least, of his comrades went with him. Soon three hundred soldiers were in the societies, and seven were preaching. Tabernacles were built in the camps, and Haime bravely said, " I have now three armies against me : the French, the wicked English, and one of devils." Even the officers and their families were drawn to the preaching. At Fontenoy, May i, 1745, forty-six thousand men entered the dreadful battle. Staniforth prayed for grace to "behave as a Christian, and a good soldier," and as he and Bond lay on their arms after the first day of the battle, "we had sweet communion." One of the Methodists, anticipating death, as he went into the fight, said : " I am going to rest in the bosom of Jesus," and so he did. The courage of these men in battle, and their fortitude in suffering, amazed even the brave hearts around them. Clements, a preacher with one arm broken, grasped his sword with the other hand; I will not go yet." His other arm was shattered. "I am as happy as I can be out of paradise." Evans, both legs shot away, died, praising and exhorting. Haime's horse was killed under him. An officer asked: "Where is your God now?" "Sir, He is here with me," "Haime is gone!" cried one, as the horse fell. "He is not gone yet," called Haime. In seven hours of carnage, "I was as full of joy as I could contain." Meeting a wounded brother, c.vvcrcA with blood, and searching for water : " Brother Haime, I hav'c ii ; ore wound." " Have you Christ in your heart?" " I have ; I have h:^Li Him all this day." Bond was shot in a later battle. Stout Staniforth carried him out of the fight, and his last look^ as the tide of war parted them, was "with e\'es full of heaven." Wesley was glad, even proud, of his soldiers. They lived faith- fully and died bravely. Such as came back, like Cromwell's "men of religion" a centur}' before, were faithful still, and the tivst societies in Scotland, at Dunbar and Musselborough, were torn.icd \>y dragoons of Haime's regiment. Wesley found them "patterns of seriousness, zeal and all hoi)' conversation." '■'i\ ,.:1 1 -km - . ::l Trit n !?! 'm -n '-f mm '^iiikj wBBmm 134 THE STORY OF METHODISM. P'orty years after Fontenoy, at seventy-eight, died John Haime, dechiring that a convoy of angels would take him to his rest. He had made full proof of his ministry. Nearly sixty years after his conversion, and fifty }'ears of preaching, the mighty Staniforth entered the heaven of the true and the brave. Methodism never had victory more timely and complete than with these soldiers. The mobs of London, the colliers of New- castle, the miners of Cornwall, the rude peasants of Yorkshire, and now the hard soldiery, felt its reviving call. Many came into a new life, and all were affected with new ideas. The Second Conference was at Bristol, Aug. i, 1745, but was marked by no special interest. The North of England was astir with the Pretender's war, and at Newcastle Wesley joined loyally in furthering the public safety. '*' it was believed that the next day the city w'ould be att; '1 he held three services of unusual power. "We cried mightily unto the Lord to spare a sinful land." That night a man, captured and strangely saved from suicide, told the plans of the enemy, which would have been fatal to the city, and the peril passed away. This }'ear Charles hurt his leg by slipping, and for weeks preached daily on his knees, being carried from place to place. As soon as he could use crutches, he preached twice daily. " The word of God is not bound, if I am. It runneth very swiftly." The Third Conference, May 12, 1746, was of little impor- tance. Wesley's preaching tours now covered all England and Wales, but he met this year only one mob. VV'esley was now able to visit places remote and neglected, and there was rising a supply of able men to follow where he opened the way, and even to open the wa\' for him. Space fails us even to name many, but we must mark the brave John Nelsoi-. He was of the people, only wiser and stronger ; he knew the people and they heard him gladly. He had become a very bishop in his own town. One who had aided in putting him into the army sent for him, and the preacher aided his old persecutor into the Kingdom of heaven, preaching afterwards, at the man's earnest wish, a sermon over his coffin. Conflicts still awwited Nelson.. At Harborough, a son of the rector led a mob, " almost the whole town," to drag the first preacher coming, by a halter, and drown him in the river. A TIIK FIRST CONFERENCE, 135 half-insane man stood to throw the halter ; a butcher was to start the dragging. They could do nothing while Nelson spoke, so they drowned his voice with " six large hand-bells." Then the halter-man came up ; Nelson then thrust back the rope, and the man fell " as if knocked down by an axe." The butcher trembled ; a constable who had come to protect the mob, " turned pale," and bringing Nelson's horse, bade him " go on in the name of the Lord." " O my God, hitherto Thou hast helped me ! " cried Nelson. At Hepworth Moor, stones were thrown while he preached, but none hit him. As he left, one felled him bleeding to the earth, where for some time he lay. The mob followed him as he stag- gered away, with blood streaming down his back, crying that they would kill him beyond the town. He thought how his Lord was slain without the gate. A door was opened for him ; a surgeon dressed his wound, and, before night, he went to Atcomb, where he was to meet the very crisis of all his conflicts. A coach full of young men drove up to the assembly and the men showed their purpose by throwing eggs and singing songs of revel. Then the two strongest came to Nelson, one of them crying: "If I do not kill him, I will be damned." Three times he attempted an assault. The third time Nelson fell and the ruffian, putting his knees upon him, bent him senseless, opening the wound of the day before. Twenty others of the mob came to finish the deed. They picked him up in his blood, got him into the street, and a brother of the parish clergyman cried : " We will kill you as fast as you come." Eight times they felled him to the earth. Then, as he lay exhausted, they dragged him by the hair, with merciless kicking, for twenty yards, over the stones. Six then jumped on him " to tread the Holy Ghost out of him I " Pausing, they said : "We cannot kill him." "I have heard that a cat hath nine lives, but I think that he hath nine score." " If he has, he shall die this day." " Where is his horse, for he shall quit the town immediately." Order your horse to be brought to you, for you shall go before we leave you." To this Nelson said : " I will not, for you intend to kill me in private that you ma\' escape justice; if you murder me, it shall be in public, and it may be that the gallows will bring you to repentance and your souls be saved from the wrath to come." They then tried to thrust him into a well, but a woman there knocked several of them down, and. i ■ - . V '■ ^'W m Tiffin? WA Wm II jli 1^.6 Till-: SltJRV OF MIOIIIOIJISM. fl M H?!* ^lill ; r ' '. f!i > 'h 1 1 1 ' bciiii^ recocjnized by sonic ladies passing; in a carriacjc, they sneaked a\\a\'. And tliese twenty, such as 1^'ieldin^ portraj'cd, of the <4"enti'y, did such exploit ! The hero, a niartsT in will but not in deed, rose u[) in strenL,fth and the next ilay rode fort)' miles to hear \\'esle\' preach, and to tell him deeds, determined, dared and done. Nelson had preached at Manchester, in 1743, the hrst Methodist la\' sermon. \\'esle\' loved the misjlitx' " Caleb." About this time, Jolin Thorp, a drunkard of Yorkshire, de- clared to his comrades that he could out-preach W'hiteficld. He opened the l^ible at random and read, " ICxcept ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish." It seemed to him a bolt from heaven ! In terror he could not but proceed. (lod spoke throui^h him, makin ! • I I 'I' ■> I3«S THE STORV (^F ME'ITIODISM. years of deep anj^uish, he found peace in Methodist ideas before he heard a Methodist preacher or read a Methodist publication. Becoming' curate at Haworth. he joined Wesley, and, in an orbit of his own, he followed Wesley's plans. "Grimshaw's circuits," served by " Grimshaw's Preachers," reached many towns in his region, and he hat! his classes, love-feasts and the like. His labors, even in these evani;elizin<^ years, were notable. He trav- eled his tw(j circuits every two weeks, often preachini; thirty times a week. In the four hamlets composins^ his parish, he preached four times a month, besides his rei^ular church services; and also a meeting at his parsonai^e, each morning, when he was at home. He would even preach at the doors of those who net^- lected church. "You shall hear me at home." Under his preaching many. melted and lay for '^ dead, as so was often the case with those listening ^ to the preachers. These latter he loved and served with all his heart. He entertained them at his house, built for them a chapel, and treated them with all humility and generosity. When Wes- ley or Whitefield visited Haworth, he rallied all the region, erecting a platform outside the church for the preacher, and administering the sacrament to successive throngs inside after the sermon. He, with Wesley, had some taste of the rudeness of mobs, but with both it fell out for the help of the Gospel, and Grimshaw was known as Archbishop of Yorkshire. Soon after this, Charles, after a most gratifying tour in Wales, where, at St. Just, after the mob had ruled, and the chapel had lain eighteen months in ruin, he quietly restored the preaching, had another terrific struggle at Devizes. Of these we need no longer speak partindarl)'. l^ver}- battle was a scene of violence, meekness, courage, and victory. HAWORTH CHURCH. to THE l-IRsr CONKERKNCK. 139 Marmadukc Gwynnc was a true prince of Wales. He lixetl in a stately way at Garth, with chaplain and servants, a larr:je family, and many a guest. When Harris had preached near Garth, Gwynne, as magistrate, proposed to arrest him as incendiarv, in Church and State. " But I will hear him myself before I commit him." He was deeply affected under the sermon, and " thought the preacher, resembled one of the Apostles." At the close he went and took Harris by the hand, told him his dis- appointment, asked his pardon, bade him God- speed, and invited him to his mansion for sup- per. He was a warm, generous man, helping in many ways the good work, and giving the itinerants a home and resting-place. Here, April 8, 1749, Charles became the husband of Sarah G w>'n n e . P e r r o n e t , Vicar of Shoreham, ven- erable friend of all the parties, had advised the marriage. John offi- ciated at the ceremony and "w^as the happiest person among us." It was a fitting and happy union. Mrs. W^esley's home was fixed at Bris- tol. She was in full harmony with her husband's calling and tem- per. She appreciated the heroes of every degree, and such as Nelson and his brethren were welcome at her house. Often trav- eling with her husband, she made herself dear to the women of the societies, and strengthened the hands of her husband. Mrs. Grace Murray, a woman of culture and education added to brilliant natural gifts, had been in charge of Wesley's house at VINCENT PERKONET AND SHOREHAM CHURCH. '■ n • Mm . » --ly, ■ ■'' til > .f.V.'.A. •w^ 140 TIIK STORY OF MK 11 1< )1)1SM, I ' Newcastle. She had also been his " riL^ht-hand" in orfjanizing his societies of women, both in I'.nt^land and Ireland. Wesley had hoped that she would be his wife; but, while he lingered, she became en^L^aj^ed t(^ John Bennet, a lay preacher. Wesley's suf- ferings were severe, but she was already married. Her husband left the Methodists ; but, afterwards, during a widowhood of fifty years, she had class-meetings in her own house. Her dying words were: "Peace Thou givest me." Both Wesley and her- self seemed to count "what might have been" as a bitter loss. He married a lady of position in London, having an ample fortune, but so ill tempered and jealous and in other ways so un- suitable as to make his marriage the mistake and misfortune of his life. She soon left his home in London and they never met af^ain on earth. His kindness and care of Mrs. Murray, after her marriage, and his high regard for her husband, proved well his chivalrous piety. fl ! JOHN WESLEY AT WEDNESBURY. 1, S t c t it. IV*- r il 'if'. CHAPTER VIII. Methodism in Ireland. iV:! »^! .V til OR three hundred years this unhappy land has been the scandal and perplexit)- of its rulers, the home of oppression, disorder and misery. Wesley had taken the world for his parish, and, as soon as his work was clearing itself from dangers in Eng- land, he was anxious to do something for Ireland. In 1747, he looked at the case. He found not one in a hundred of the na- tives had left the religion of their fathers. The Protestants were plants grown abroad. 'And no wonder, when the Protestants can find no better way to convert them than penal laws and acts of Parliament ! " Bishop Berkeley had already suggested that persons conversant with low life, and the Irish tongue, and the first principles of religion, might mix with the common people, get their confidence, do them good, and bring them to church. Something like this already was there in the Mendicants of the Romish Church. When Wesle^^ having already set at work in England what Berkeley suggest J came to Ireland, Protestantism was feeble and waning. His success we shall find but moderate, yet, without him, Protestantism would have vanished from the island. Reaching Dublin, Aug. 9, 1747, he preached that day at St. Mary's to " as gay and careless a congregation " as he had ever seen. The curate, with the Archbishop, wished no lay preachers. 1! ''J' 1 >\iK.'i!'''\ ■Mi, w\ ^t :•■, -.C'f f > I ll if: ?l ( Ml ' M; ,> fj . .' I ,v Ml,mnl)|s\| IN Il;i;i,.\Nl). J 43 Wesley proceeded iiuUpeiulcntl)-. Williams, a lay pnacher frcm MMrk, but at length came ]:)cace. A l.u'ge chapel wa^ built; Weslev was entertained at the ' * i '• '>"■'■■ K' '-i \ 'W% < .< .'W. "^w r ] -il h iji i\ I .1 ' ;! ■Ill: I' It i (till ill Wi - ' 148 THE STORY OF METHODISM. mayor's mansion, and he was even afraid that the circuit might enervate his preachers. Remarkable conversions occurred. In Antrim, a most vi- cious deaf-mute was converted, and, when the preacher came, he would run from house to house with the news. He refused to work on the Lord's day, and learning the sacred promises, and their places in the Bible, he would put his finger on them "with a wild, screaming voice, and floods of tears." Violence still broke out, and John McBurney, at Enniskillen, was the first Irish mar- tyr, under circumstances much like those attending the fate of Thomas Beard, our first martyr in England. Wesley declares that the Irish were the politest people he ever knew, and that courtesy in their cabins was as perfect as at the courts of London and Paris. A remarkable man was soon raised up to the front rank of the Wesleyan worthies, Thomas Walsh, a strictly trained Catho- lic, but of active mind and longing heart, stood in 1749, on the parade-ground at Limerick, to hear a preacher, Swindells. He had attained much in study, had lived by the straight rules of his Church, and yet found no rest. An older brother had become Protestant; he also, after an agony, study and dis- cussion, did the same, and in his eighteenth year, at one in the morning, after a long interview with his brother and others, he fell upon his knees and for the first time prayed to none but God. Yet he tenderly loved his Romish friends and he found no clear rest for his heavy-laden heart. At length, in a Methodist meet- ing, he was set free by Him "who cometh from Edom and with d}'ed garments from Bozrah." Now was in Ireland a saint indeed, in this world but not of it, such as no recorded saint sur- passes. He knew Irish, he mastered English, Latin, Greek and Hebrew, all that he might fully know and teach the Bible. He entered the ministry with awe and hesitancy. "Lord Jesus, be Thou my sun and star! " ran his prayer. He walked thirty miles to his first appointment. It was in a barn, and he was heard with contradictions, mockery and tears. Soon he v/ps prea^'-hing daily to multitudes. The Irish, addressed in their own tongue, smote their breasts, and beggars under his word knelt in the streets to pray. A native, with whom he remonstrated in English, swore to kill him. Walsh reproved him in Irish. "Why dMst thou not METHODISM IN IRELAND. 149 SO speak to mc in the beginning?" "I let him know in Irish what Christ had done for sinners, and he departed with a broken heart." The Irish tongue is pathos itself. When yon plead for yonr life, plead in Irish. His task was the harder for his being regarded an an apostate from Rome, and he had many a mob to face. One priest told his people that Walsh was dead and that this preacher was the devil in his shape ! Yet the common people would run to hear him, and un- der his sermons call with tears upon the Virgin, the Apostles and all the Saints. His work among his own people was won- derful. Wesley sent him to London, where he spoke to crowds of countrymen in the tongue in which they were born, pouring out upon them the full- ness and energy of a glowing soul. Wesley says: "I do not remem- ber ever to have known a preacher, who, in so few years as he remained JO«n wesley g'ving alms. upon earth, was an instrument of converting so many sinners." He labored for nine years, a burning and a shining light, wonder- ful in his knowledge of Scripture, in his saintly living, in his eloquence. He died after much mental suffering, but at evening time it was light. By such a man, and his associates, Methodism was rooted in Ireland. Wesley often visited and traversed it, and fully si.x of his toilsome, hopeful years were spent in labors there. ",>». 1 1 CHAPTER IX. WinTEFiKi.i) Once :\Ic)RE. N 1744, Whiteficld came again to America. He reached York, in Maine, in feeble health, and after one of his sermons he sank away and thought himself dying. His weeping friends said: He is gone." Moody, pastor at York, cared for him and welcomed him " in the name of all the faithful ministers of New England." The faculty of Harvard and many clergymen did not bid him welcome. " Tes- timonies " for and against him were published. Eanat- ics had risen in his absence, but many, even pastors, were converts by his former labors. He was at once among them as a sun above the horizon ; his congregations were large ; conversions occurred ; he spoke on occasions of public interest, and regained all his power with the people. They proposed to build him, at Boston, " the largest place of worship ever seen in America." At Philadelphia he was offered four hundred pounds salary and half th'j year for labors abroad. In Virginia, his printed sermons, read without prayer (there was nobody dared to pray in public), had produced ccmxiction and awakening in several towns. He says with joy: "The Gospel is moving southward; the harvest is promising ; the time of the singing of birds is come ? " " Thou- sands and thousands are read}' to hear the Gospel, and scarce anybod)- goes out but m\self Now is the time for stirring." Si Mck with a JMirning fever, he omitted (nie sermon ; " But I hope ycL to die in the pulpit or soon after 1 come out of it." So he did. m'-"i win ri;riEi.i> <>nch more. 151 He wrote from North Carolina that, " with a body weak and crazy," he was hunting for sinners in these " ungospehzed wilds." It was with the people as if an angel of God was visiting them. As a " d}-ing man," he went to the Bermudas. There, as an inva- lid, he preached twice or more daily. One rainy week he preached " but five times in private houses." Mis motto was, " Faint yet pursuing," and the crowds were " affected as in days of old at home." After three months he sailed for England, but, at his last sermon, the audience wept aloud, the negroes outside were sobbing, and he joined in the prevailing sorrow. His friend Harris had been laboring in Wales with an energy like that of Wesley and his men, and he, too, had met his share of persecutions. Lady Huntingdon had taken a tour through that region with two noble ladies, the Hastings, and several preachers. She had preached four or five times daily, and her jour- ney was a progress of the Gospel. At Trevecca, great congregations were had for several days, and " were moved by the truth as a forest by the wind." ^^o. whitefield. preaching. She met Whitefield at London. The great preacher entered at once upon his old career. John Newton, rising at four to get to the service at five, used to see Moorfields before daylight as full of the lanterns of the worshipers as the Haymarket (the street of the great theater) was full of flambeaux on opera nights. " I bless God that I have lived in his time." London was too small for Whitefield. He went for the third time to Scotland, where the stern Synods were complaining that he had not preached up the Solemn League and Covenant. " I preach up the Covenant of Grace," said he. Among his vast congregations were many who told him how his former preaching had led to their conversion. On his way to London he had his usual series of crowds, , 1 1 > h «- . 'I'll f\ > ^ 152 THK STORY ()1 MKIIIODISM, \m sensations and victories. At Exeter, a man stood ainiintjj a stone at his head; just as he was to throw, tlie word struck him. He humbly sought the preacher: "Sir, I came here to break you" head, but God has broken ni}- heart." He turned and lived a true Christian. At London, Whitefield could not remain. He was too weak to hold a pen ! Like the l^aptist, he seemed but a "Voice." He started for Portsmouth and Wales, and in ei^ht hundred miles spoke to a hundred thousand hearers. At times, twenty thousand were present and weepint^. " I think we had not one dry meet- ing." i\t Exeter, Bishop La\ington. the most bitter of his opponents, gazed with his clergy on ten thousand people swaying, tr-jiiibling and weeping under the Word, while "Jesus rode forth ill His chariot of salvation."' At London, frequent earthquakes were occurring; Charles and Whiteiield were there, and, in the general alarm, they comforted the people. On the morning of March 8, 1750, Charles, at five, was rising in the Foundry pulpit to preach. A shock jarred all London, and the l^'oundr)' walls trembled. The frightened people sh(.)ok, but he cried: "There- fore will we not fear though the earth be remo\'ed. The Lord of Hosts is with us." His W(,)rds of lofty faith and cheer shook their souls, but dispelled their fears. The Foundrx' became a place of refuge. While coaches and people hurried from the city as if it were struck with the wrath of God, " our people v/ere calm and quiet as at any other time." Crc^wds came to the Foundr}' at night; WHiitefield preached at midnight in llvde Park, to fear- stricken multitudes, and " the word of God pre\-ailed." It was a time for Charles to sing: " This awful God is ours I " and the people felt that the God of the evangelists " rides on the whirlwind and directs the storm." \^m I <; CHAPTER X. Opinions and Economics. ^TEERAGE follows headway in the nat- ral order of things. Methodism was becoming rich in all resources — in men of gifts and graces as laborers ; in a membership numerous, energetic and >^ devoted; in growing material proper- ty; in the respect, willing or unwilling, tJ"''W2'^'^f^ of the nation. It was now time for all f this to be rounded into form. "^^ At the Second Conference it was asked : "Is not the will of our governors a law?" "No; not of any governor. If a Bishop wills me not to preach, his will is no law to me. If he produce a law, I am to obey God rather than man." Freedom from man, loj'alty to God, thus lay at the foundation. "Is Episcopal, Presby- terian or Independent (Congregational, in Anicrica) iient most atireeable to reason?" To a care ful answer. It presents an out- gin of Church goxernment, telling how ceded a Pastor ; a Pastor, Helpers or s or Elders, and, finally, a Bishop or All these work together by love and consent, and any may, at any time, leave the rest " for the glory of God and the good of I ■ v^ jfjf It 154 THE STORY OF METIloDISM. !' t mi li ■' their own souls." "How sliall \vc treat those who leave us?" " Beware of bitterness ; talk with them at least once or twice ; if they persist, consider them as dead and name them no more except in prayer." Nothing could be more liberal, yet Wesley was Hij^h-church. He belie\ed in ordination traceable to the Apostles ; in a priestly ministry as alone entitled to administer the Sacraments, and in the utter distinctness of office in Bishop, Priest and Deacon. On these matters his views were afterwards changed. He steadil}' believed that the Church and the Dis- senters would yet be so revived that his societies would melt in a large religious life of the nation, and he was willing that all his labors be lost by blending with the general Christianity to in- crease its warmth and volume. At the third session, it was asked by the great Welchman, Gwynne, "Who shall compose n Conference?" "The preachers conveniently at hand ; the most prudent and devoted leaders in the town where it is held, and any pious and judicious stranger." " Wherein does our doctrine now differ from what it was at Oxford?" "P^irst, we then knew nothing of the righteousness of faith in justification ; nor, second, of the nature of faith itself, as implying consciousness of pardon," To this was added : "We mean, first, that pardon (salvation begun) is received by faith, and produces works; second, that holiness (salvation continued) is faith working by love; third, that heaven (salvation finished) is the reward of this faith. Or, in the g.lo\-"ng lines of Charles, concerning the believer : " " Into himself he all receives Pardon and holiness and heaven." After these few doctrines were defined, came the framing of a personal force to work the rising system. We have seen how itinerants, local helpers, who were anchored at their homes, and leaders, came to be. They rose up as God's own means. They were soon reduced to a system. " How shall we test those who think they are moved of the Holy Ghost and called of God to preach?" To this earnest question was answered: First, "Have they the grace of experience?" Second, "Have they gifts of understanding and utterance?" Third, "Have they fruits?" The concurrence of affirmative answers was taken as proofs of the will and moving of the Holy Ghost, and so it is still taken in all sui to ex( so ex 4 ; OPINIONS AND KCoNoMirs. 155 the domain of Methodism. Vet such were preacliers only; they were not ordained as deacons or priests. They seemed too "stately " for the present ; perhaps " Providence would open the way." " I'.xhorters" now arose. They must have a note from the preacher, renewed each year, t^ivin;^ them "license" to speak in the societies. The system ^f jlel|)ers was now complete, and so simple, natural and efficient, that it remains as it was struck out at first. Taken as traininfj in oratory, it could hardly be im- proved. The exhorter becomes a local preacher, then an itinerant, according as he is endowed and makes the most of his endowments. To stop at the lower offices is no disgrace ; to reach the higher, proves calling and ability. Precisely as in mili- tary life, in any life, merit must take its chance, if the system is to have the best of servants ; so Wesley fixed the plain feature in his system that, in the diversity of gifts, there might be unity of working. The two points of Justification and Sanctification now came to be made clear. Their difficulties will always arise, for the ap- prehension of them depends mainly upon actual experience. They who truly take the death of Christ as the atonement for their sins must be accepted, "justified," before the Most Worthy Judge Eternal. That they may hiow this acceptance, was the peculiar point of the Wesleyan preaching; that men, in that full, hearty, self surrender to Christ that proves "faith," and that asking, from which faith cannot be separated, may, by the com- ing of the Holy Ghost to their hearts, be cheered by an inward, unmistakable sense of pardon. This is assurance. Not every believer has it, but every believer may have it ; it is his right and privilege. Wesley's opinion was that every true believer gains this before leaving this world (unless he falls back from his faith) ; he urged that such may have it at once, to shed upon his heart and way its light and gladness and joy. Entire Sanctification was cautiously treated. It was to be surely held as a truth of Scripture and experience. It was not to be preached harshly or boastingly, but amiably, that it might excite only hope, joy and desire. Above all, it was not to be so put as to make people under-value pardon, "which is in- expressibl}' great anrl glorious, though there are still greater gifts behind." ■'1'^ ill v.i .■■jr.''iu wm ^M^ ^m 1 f t*\ i: in 156 '1HI-: >lt>RV ul' MKlIhtDISM. I» ■■ '^ The "divine rJLjlit" of Hishops was rejected. "Till the mid- dle of l^li/abcth's rei^n, (say, 1570,) all Hishops and cleii^y joined in the services of those uhoin no IJishop (but onl)' presby- ters) had ordained." Thus ideas of doctrine and usaj^e slowly ^rew, and they have substantiallv remained. i\t the Conference of 1747, there were, besides re^ndar cler^^y cooperatin;4, about sixty helpers en^^aged in spreading and establishing Methodism in the land. J'\)r reasons alread)- named — the hope of linally blending with existing Churches — no societies were formed the next \'ear. The result was bad. The cl c r g )' o f t h e C h u r c h neglected and abused the converts that came to their care and communion. "We have j)reached for more than a \'ear without forming societies, and al- most all the seed has fallen by the wayside." VVith- (j u t "societies" the l^reacher could not collect the awakened apart for instruction, nor could be- lievers watch over and help one another. Wes- ley felt deepl}' this awk- ward dependence of his PHILIP DOUDRiDGE, pcople ou clergymen who disdained him and his movement. The next year it was proposed to make the London society the central one, to which all should report, whose stewards should receive annual collections and with these aid the weaker societies. This plan pleased Wesley, but he hesitated, for it tended to separation from tlie Church. He appointed an assistant — as distinct from helper — to each of his (now) nine circuits, to take charge of its societies and thus unify them — but the Annual Conference grew rapidl)' to be the true center of Methodism. At the Seventh Conference, March 8, 1750, over ten years OnNIOXS AND KCnXOMICS. 157 I " •'■',1 had gone since the foiindin;^' of Methodism. Ten wonderful years ! The greatest Christian legislator, the greatest Christian poet, the greatest Christian orator, that the world had seen, iiad risen and used their utmost gifts and energies in renewing the kingdom of Christ. The lowest masses of the English cities, mines, collieries and rural districts had effectually felt the plow- share of the Gospel. It had touched the highest classes, and the Countess of Huntingdon had become the most eminent woman among all since woman was last at the cross and earliest at the grave. Its lay ministry had restored the usages of Apostolic times, Whitefield and his Calvinists had revived the heroic old dissenting Churches. Wesley had a perfected and permanent organism, and his circuits to England, Wales and Ireland were being served by seventy devout and active men. "■ Per ardiia ad astray Through mobs and riots and all annoyances it was com- ing to a movement and working as peaceful as that of the stars. Of its literary and educational progress we speak hereafter. Those venerable men whose deep discouragement was noted could now have spoken more cheerfully. Indeed, for eight of these years. Watts, from his home at Abney House, had marked the rising day, and told out his gladness and surprise. Charles, his brother poet and his only superior, and Lady Huntingdon had visited him and their words had been "tuneful sweet." Doddridge welcomed the W^esleys to Northampton, and rejoiced as if he saw "The long expected day begin, Dawn on these realms of woe and sin." , 1 ^^'■:f '.-1^: W .1.1 m I i.ii CHAPTER XI. Progress in Ireland. I i Mfi, r > ■ ■I I ;i ■ hU m^^m N going to Ireland In 1750, Wesley called John Jane Lo accompany him. Jane illustrates the itinerant ser\'ice of the period. He went to Holyhead, seven dav's of journey, on foot, start- ing with three shillings and arriving with a single penny, fed and lodged on the way in the humble homes of his brethren. In Ireland, he walked, unable to afford a liorse, to his preaching-places. Such a walk on a hot day brou'dit a fever and he sunk to his death. He went, "with a smile on his face," saying, "I find the love of God in Christ Jesus." "All hi^ clothes, linen and woolen, stockings, hat and wig are not thought sufficient to answer his funeral expenses (which wi^re about nine dollars). All the money he had wa.5 is. 4d. P J \\^-y (thirty-two cents), enough for any unmarried r^ V preacher of the Gospel to leave to his execu- ^ tors." One is reminded of the I'ranciscans, both in the temper of the master and the fidelity of the follower. At a lati.r visit to Ireland, Wesley found, at Coiul Mattress on the Western coast, a community of Germans. The)- had, under Oueen Anne, come from the Rhine — a hundred .uid ten families — ■ ( PROGRESS IN IRELAND. 159 and in sixty years had become many. Though Protestants in their old homes, they had become sadly demoralized. Wesley and his helpers preached often among them, and to some purpose. A preaching-house rose in the heart of their town ; profanity and drunkenness disappeared, and such communities as theirs weie hard to find, for the\- were industrious, upright and devout. " How will these poor foreigners rise up in the day of judgment against those that are aiound about them!" wrote Wesley. From these West Ireland Germans, as we shall sec, came THE HIGHLANDERS AT LIMERICK KEEPING ORDER FOR JOHN WESLEY. Philip Embury and Barbara Heck, wh(^ iiitroduced Methodism into the city of New York, thus planting it in the heart of the New World. Wesley's best friends in Ireland were the soldiers. At Lim- erick sixty Highlanders joined the society, "and by their zeal, according to their knowledge, stirred up many." The presence of these men of w--: in uniform at the ir.eetings insureel order, for they felt the spirit of their profession, and the honor of religion was, in their eyes, well worth the drawing of their swords. At Dublin, they kei)t order for Wesley, as self-constituted police, and in man)' places a fair number of them were "good soldiers of i6o THK STORV OF METHODISM. Jesus Christ," One of these, Duncan Wright, deserves notice. He was a Scotchman, from childhood "bookish," reading and weeping and wishing to be a Christian, "but not knowing how." At eighteecn, he went into miHtary Hfe to ease his heart. At Cashel, in camp, a corporal preached to the troops, and Method- ist soldiers, at Limerick, kept his conscience uneasy. He then sought the conversation of Methodists for relief, and on a wake- ful, weeping night, "the Lord brought him in an instant out of darkness into His marvelous light." He had a deep impression that he ought to preach to his comrades, and this was most tragically confirmed. To put a terror on desertion, order wns given to shoot a desert- er in every city of Ireland. One of the examples was in Wright's regiment, a youth of but twenty. Duncan went to talk and pray with I the poor lad, who, among his guards, was reading "The Whole Duty of I Man," with hot, despairing tears, "like a drowning man catching at WESLEYAN CHAPEL, THURLES, IRELAND. straWS." Again Duncan came at evening, praying with him, and exhorting the many soldiers present to turn to God. The visits were continued, and, four days before his execution, the poor lad found peace. He witnessed a good confession, walked to his death with a face of serenity and joy which his fellow soldiers noted well, dropped on his knees for ten minutes of prayer, gave the signal for his shooting, and "went to paradise." Duncan then began preaching. At night, he had meetings at his quarters, sang, prayed and read, and, as his light usually then went out, he had to exhort. Moving with his regiment, he was the first preacher in Galway, and in that city he' gained converts, some of whom ..ere long after " a comfort to me, though some are asleep in Jesus." PROGRESS IN IRELAND. i6i ^1 His colonel, unable to stop his preaching, got his discharge, and he was soon a traveling preacher. But the colonel was not rid of annoyance. A regimental surgeon, for wit and waggery, v;ent to hear a local preacher, and "peering at him through his fingers," was, like the King of old, pierced through the crevice of his armor. He became preacher to the soldiers until he died from professional exposure. Duncan gave to the ministry thirty active years. Soldier as he was, he could not keep up with the tire- less Wesley. "That gave him too much exercise; he had to give it up," Thomas Walsh was now, 1758, "just alive." "O what a man to be snatched away in the strength of his years Walsh kiad worn himself out. He was of feeble frame, yet he preached al- ways twice, often thrice a day, besides much visiting of the weak, the sick ?nd the dying. He rose at four to study, and was at his books until late in the night. He grew worn and weary, seldom smiling, never laughing. For such errors there is no pardon provided. Nature sternly e.xacts the penalty. Walsh failed in health, and at twenty-five looked like a man of forty. Where was Wesley, whose care of his own health was so wise, who v/as free and joyous in relaxation, and taught his preachers sanitary rules so admirable? Walsh spent two years in Wesley's own house, and was allowed to live on "at this poor, dying rate." In truth he looked on Walsh with wonder and WESLEY'S FAREWELL TO IRELAND. II i. 4 i.ii. 'JH ,^,u-a -i^jj — 162 TIIK srORV OF MKTHODISM. :; I 'f' * '■ reverence, and so did all. The young preacher seemed to be a saint come back to men over the eternal portal. He appeared to be always in praj-er. "In sleep itself, to my certain knowledge, his soul went out in groans and sighs and tears to God. His heart, having attained such a tendency to its Lord, could only give over when it ceased to beat." With fastings and self-denials, he seemed absorbed in God, and, from the splendor of his face, and the peculiarity of his gestures, he seemed near the waving, glistering robes of his transfigured Lord. In his private devo- tions, he would, in some deep, solemn mood, be for hours motionless as a statue, and in his public prayers "it was as though the heavens were burst open, and God himself appeared in the congregation." We have noted that he died in anguish until the very last. His jangled nerves seemed to bring his soul into ruins, and in the gloom he "sadly bewailed the absence of Him whose presence had so often given him victory." It was a remark of Fletcher that weak believers might die cheerfully, while strong ones might have severe conflicts. Walsh thought otherwise, but two years later he proved the truth of Fletcher's words. Still, his last words were : " He is come ! He is come ! My beloved is mine and I am His — His forever!" He was twenty-eight years old, and had served eight years in the ministry. Thus Ireland gave its heroes to Methodism. And Methodism had done much for Ireland. It had, by 1760 entered every county but Kerry, and had societies in most of the large towns. Strange, its worst opponents were Protestants, who could not see that the success of Methodism was the success of the most active and salutary movement known to Protestant Christianity. his I and "wo nigh yet was a la town Nort CHAPTER XII. r^l M The Next Ten Years in England, 1750- 1760. HSITING Wales, in 1750, Wesley was glad to find all the Churches walking in the fear of God and the comfort of the Holy Ghost. Their numbers increased. "V/hat can destroy the work of God in these but zeal for and contending about opinions?" Yet there was need to bring religion to bear on morals. Vessels wrecked upon the coast of Wales had fared hard, the people counting such things as special favors of fortune. Another vice of the ':oast was smuggling, and he found that some of his people dealt in "uncustomed goods," and perhaps did even worse. His action was peremptory. "They should see his face no more unless the thing were entirely abandoned." He was glad to know that his people became exemplary in their humane and just behavior. The next year he visited Scotland. He had never been there, and Whitefield warned him not to go. Those stern Calvinists "would leave him nothing to do but dispute from morning to night." At Musselborough, the people stood cold as statues, yet "the prejudice which the devil had been years in planting was plucked up 'u an hour." He was invited to stay, but Hooper, a lay itinerant, took his place, and good was done in several towns. " God raised up witnesses that He had sent us to the North Britons also." ' ■■'/.■'I'iSt ■.■■» 'iHi ■.-',■" ^ : t ,.f,iU, n 4 I i If n^ VVc- som will of t The side in m VVal, and visit THE NEXT TEN YEARS IN ENGLAND. 165 Two years later he visited Scotland and preached at Glasgow. On the second day it rained, and Gillies, a pastor, opened his kirk for Wesley. "Who would have believed, five and twenty years ago, that the minister would have desired it, or that I should have consented to preach in a Scotch kirk?" He then preached in the open air and had a large hearing, even in a shower of rain. He was pleased with their manners. They seemed respectful, but they were indifferent. They would not even riot and persecute him. He said: ''They /c/iozv everything and /cc/ nothing." He could not see "why the hand of the Lord, who does nothing without cause, was almost entirely stayed in Scotland." Four years later he was again in that country, preaching again in Glasgow to large, unfeeling congregations. At the poor- house he found around him the gathered people, before him the infirmary, its windows crowded with the sick, and, close at hand, the lunatic hospital, whose inmates were reverently listening. To all these he gave a tender, timely word of the Great Physician, and baptized several children, the first Methodist administration of the rite in Scotland. His congregations were sometimes beyond the capacity of his voice. A little society, which he at last found in the city, met to argue of knotty points, not to promote experience. He gave them good advice, and put them in the care of Dr. Gillies, in whose kirk he had preached. At Dunbar and Musselborough, the old heroes of Fontenoy had done wonders. "The National shyness and stubbornness were gone and they were as open and teachable as little children." In every part of England, Methodism now grew rapidly, and Wesley, now a person of National importance, was viewed with something of National reverence. Preaching at Birmingham, where the chapel had to be exchanged for the street on account of the numbers, he says: "How has the scene changed here! The last time I preached at Birmingham the stones flew on every side; if any disturbance were now made, the disturber would be in more danger than the preacher." Like change was noted at Wakefield and elsewhere, and his Journal is a record of gratitude and praise. At Hull, he had a "reminiscence." It was his first visit, and the wharf was fiill of laughing, staring crowds, asking, V. " ... m fm : V ; d '■'<; ■■.■"■' iLitf •<4-/ t' II i i!- '■: !■! ' , ■■ i( ' 1 1 i '■>i: 'It- 3 aa [X. Cd Till-: Ni:xT ti:n vkars i\ i:\(;i..\nii. 167 "Which is he?" An immense multitude [gathered in ''W- fields to hear him, and thousands heard him seriously. " Man)' behaved as if possessed by Moloch." Stones Hew while he preached, and afterwards the mob threw missiles into his coach windows. Mis house of entertainment was assailed till midnii,du, and its windows broken to the third story. The old, old style of entrance ! Methodism soon flourished in Hull, and at Wesley's next visit the best of the people j^ave him a cjood hearint;. At Chester, two days before his coming, a mob had wrecked the chapel. He stood by its ruins and told how "this sect is everywhere spoken against." The like violence never occurred in Chester again. So in town after town Satan still used various devices and much violence, but "the word of God prevailed." In 1755, he visited the infant town of Liverpool. Its whole popula- tion was less than Gladstone's audience in June, 1886, but all came to hear Wesley, and he had a larije society. He was pleased with the city. " In fifty years it will nearly equal Bristol ! " It is now as large as many Bristols. It is still "one of the neatest, best built towns in England," and is in its antiquity a rival, and in its growth follows hard after London. At Hornby, the landlords had turned all the Methodists out of their houses, but this proved " a singular kindness," for, building small houses at the end of the town, forty or fifty of them formed a Christian community as peaceful and spiritual a.-i a Moravian station. A West India planter, at Wandsworth, "a desolate place," opened for him a door to preach. Some of his negroes were present at the preaching. One of these Wesley baptized as a convert, the first regenerated African he had ever known ! She, the first fruits of a mighty people, went back to Antigua with her master. The planter was Nathaniel Gilbert, Speaker o f the House of Assembly in his island. He became a local preacher and introduced Methodism into the West Indies. It was now nearly the life-time of a generation since Wesley had begun to preach and Methodists were now beginning to die. "Our people die well," quietl}' remarked Wesley, and it proved true that their clear experiences gave them a comfortable assurance of the life to come. All deaths seem to have been recorded, as they had in early ages been carved on the walls of Jmf ..'ii '5 '■• 1 68 THK STORV OF METHODISM, mi? m if' ■'■ 111 .-^ !li the Catacombs at Rome. Obituaries are still prominent in Christian Advocates of the present day. Charles took special note of deaths among the colliers of Kingswood and raised a song, new and sweet, over many a humble believer. He Wrote elegies over many a preacher who died until his own turn came which he preluded with a hymn so tender and touching that it has no equal among the "swan-songs" of literature. It was also time for troubles to "arise of N'our own selves." At Bristol, in 1757, half the society had been lost by internal discords. James Wheatley, at Norwich, the first preacher ex- pelled from the Societies, had almost destroyed his own society. His own company fell apart and finally gathered again into Methodism. At Bolton, Ben- net, the husband of Grace Murray, se- ceded and harshly abused Wesley. Some doctrinal wranglings came in to annoy the flock. No dogmas, except those universally received, were conditions of membership. Wesley was on the best of terms with the evangel- ical Calvinists in his day. They took delight in his work and their Churches felt the power of the great revival. There were others of low degree, "caviling, contentious, proselyting," who vexed his soul and his people and whose conduct Charles felt more deeply than himself. Heroes were still needed and they still were found. NATHANIEL GILBERT PREACHING IN ANTIGUA. a pa it a into ■i ijiji i m^ THE NEXT TEN YEARS IN ENGLAND. 169 Thomas Lcc was fit to rank with John Nelson. He was no vulj^ar boy. At fifteen, apprenticed to the worsted trade, he was fond of books and specially of the Hible and already loved prayer and souijht spiritual experiences. Hearin liUd ••^■^'/J h -' ik ''1 I' '•i,' ^V ' ' t ' < 1 - '■• < ^ ■1 'r^ > -it' I ^f!l ' ' '^ 1 K' i '*' ■■ 1 • ' "i a; ' , ■.4 t ,i !■.! U'i '. 'I II M i i i :l a 172 THE STORV OF MKTIIODISM. was intended for the Church, but the Calvinism of Switzerland was not to his mind, and he chose a military life. He took a captain's commission in the arni\' of I'ortuL^al, but. failini^ to sail to Brazil. liC heard ])reachinLi^ in London. He was con- 1 1 I" (, vinced that was unrcgcnerate, antl was ania/cd. lit: had been counted relit^ious, liad studied divinity, and for his writinf^s on it had taken from ;>. uni\ersit}' tlie "premium of piet\'." \-et "knew not what faith is ! " .After con\'ersion, lie took orders in the English Church, and became Wesley's chief clerical helper. He THE NEXT TEN YEARS IX ENGLAND. 173 became vicar of Madelcy, but he was all his life Wesley s adviser and companion, the leading defender of his theology and practice, and above all the man most skillful to tell, in works still read with delight, the spiritual experiences that gave Methodism its life and power, and with which his own soul was richly familiar. It has been noted that Wesley now married. His wile Mrs. Vazeille, was highly recommended by those who had in that way done Charles good service. He was now of middle age, and his heart felt the natural longing for home and wife, and his temper — cheerful, tender, uniform — would have made domestic life a com- fort and a blessing. Her ample estate was secured to herself and her children, while Wesley was still to travel. She became weary of going with him and restless at home, unti! a mania of jealousy seized her, and, after annoying '••'m in ever} manner, she left him. In all this his worst foes found in him nothing to reproach. For once Wesley was sick like other men. He had exery appearance of a rapid consumption, and an entire rest from labor and care was ordered. Alarm spread among all his people, and praj'ers were everywhere sent up for his recover)-; for how could he be spared? One day, when he knew his death was luuirls' expected, his free and lively mind threw off, to get ahead of "vile panegyric," this epitaph: " Here lieth the body of John Wesle\', a brand plucked from the burning, who died of a consumption in the fifty-first year of his age; not leaving, after his debts are paid, ten pounds behind him. Praying God be merciful to me, an unprofitable sinner." He ordered that this, if any inscription, should be placed on his tombstone. Hervey, his okl Qvlord friend, a pious ami faithfiil clergy- man, and deeply ati.iched to Wesley, had been induced to attack Wesley's theology, writing " Eleven Letters" "in the interest of truth." At his death he directed these to be burned. His brother, seeing money in the matter, put the manuscript in the hands of a renegade, Cudworth, who fixed them to his w wA and published them. Tlicy were shameful, and, bearing the name of Hervey, who called Wesley " frier d and father," did mischief, especially in Scotland. Wesley was grieved at this his first as- sault from "a man, i brot:her," with whom he had taken sweet counsel, but he and his work outlived man\' such. , \\ *;'. ,,( ., SBBKBBBaSRSBrraSlHFantinsoa"""' m ^ ]' , T I- J ft II m- t to ha\e gi\en before. "'Ihe chief captain of 'atan's forces." a man read)' to horsewhip any Methodist, fell with the s)niptoms that he h.ul ridiculed. He clap[)etl his han^Js and roared, and hi^. disturtetl face, beneath :M i • ■ Wfd , , r '-'jnwM « r. kmH ' '^'i^K w ■ t: "■il ' AwS 1; 'M\ V ''4* Ijf) THE STOKV OF .MKTIIODISM. I ; Ii ■■: coal-black wifj and hair, made his fiijurc horrible. His friends tried to ^et him awaj He fell on his back, praying and crying, ' () my burden! my burden!" and his fellows saw that their champion was broken. After hours of agony he found relief for soul and body. When four thousand had been awakened after this fashion, the excitement vanished and the fruit of righteous- ness was peace. After twenty years of faithfulness, in which his learning, labor and wealth were freely given to the Methodists, especially the Calvinistic, he was borne to his grave by a large company of clerg)'men, amid the tears of thousands. William Romaine had won, by his abilities, place and dis- tinction in the Church, and proved himself true to reform within its pale. His church, St. Dunstan's in the West, where he had his share of trouble, was too small for his congre- gation. He took to the open air and, becoming one of Lady Huntingdon's chaplains, traveled and preached incessantly. He was Calvinistic, and his writings went far to give permanent form to the best religious \iews and experiences of the times. Martin Madan was a Rev. WILLIAM ROMAINE. brilliant, aristocratic young law)'er in London, lie went to hear Wesley so as to re- hearse the sermon with mimicry. As he entered the r()v)m, the text was uttered, " l*re])are to meet thy God ! " He was struck ; he listened ; he changed his purpose and his life. " Uid you take the old AL'tliodist off?" asked his gay comrades at the coffee- house. " Xo, gentlemen, but he has taken me off." His mother was a friend of Latly ILintingdon; the young convert found in her meetings comfort and guidance, ami soon his learning, talents and fortune were given to the Methodistic W(jrk. His brother, THK NEXT TEN YEARS IN ENtiEAND. 177 a Bishop ordained him, and his first sermon at AUhallows, tc crowds eaLjer to hear "a lawj'er turned preacher," proved him a pulpit orator. His noble bearin;jj and hi^h personal accompHshments, his zeal and learnin<^, made him dear to all his brethren. He chose the Calvinistic brotherhood, but both in his conversion and his later behavior he was a true son of Wesley. Henry Venn, curate of Clapham and afterwards rector of Hutldersfield, came into the work of W'hitefiekl and the Wes- leys, and, thoui^^h he re- mained true to the Church, he indul<;ed in such "ir- re<;ularities" as preaching eight or ten sermons a week, besides his rei;ular services, in barns, [)ri\ate houses or the open air. For thirty jears he labored and thirteen of his con- verts became preachers of the (i()sj)el. Thus W'esle)' gathered around him men of genius and piet\', who shared his labors, called him father and loved him with un- . _ ALIHALLOWS CHURCH, faltermg tenderness. Ao After enRraving by a. Cmse. better proof of his own character can be given than this group of his friends affords, lie outli\-ed these alreacK' named, but others rose in their places ami his last N'ears were briLrhtent'd by a s)stc'm of such luminaries, moving about him in love and harmony. ,;%,-fJ.' '■%\ }^\ la ■HHBII ciiap!"i:r XIII. CAI.VINISriC IVlKTHOniSM. ii'!^ '••: .' I ■ i . t If'i S wc see, most of the men lately named were of Cal- vinistic views. Their ■ { m''^ four years, he "ranj^cd" when hi.; could and spoke to thousands from his " field-throne," with "hjj[ht and life flyint^ in all direc- tions." He was greedy of time, as if aware that he had little remaining; he was exact even to his meals; he was nervous and even irritable. Of this he was aware and said with tears : " I shall live to be a peevish old man and everybody will be tired of me." He was plain in his diet, but wished elegance in its serving. In his room and person he was daintily neat. " I doubt if I should die easy, if I thought my gloves were out of place." He was never willing that any one .sleep before ten, or after four, in his house. His popularity wearied him. "I envy the man who can take iiis choice of food at an eating-house." His marriage was not ha})py and his only child died before its father. At the day of its dcatli, he preached twice amid his tears, and once on the d ay o f its burial. So strangely was everj'thi ng bent to his life's one work and calling ! In this last sta}' in I'^ng- land, his work was as \a!- uable as ever. He conse- crated chapels, called out new laborers and inspir- ited those already at vvHiTKKiKi.irs ORPHAN uoisK, SAVANNAH. (;.\. work. He took his frieuds to Wesley's Conferences and Wesley received him as a brother, endeared by like labors and sufferings. It was "a comfortable and profitable hour" spent together in calling to mind the former times, how they had been enlightened and what God had done by them. Whitefield was now, 1769, sinking to his rest. "An old. old man, fairly worn out in his Master's service!" Yet he was ten years younger than Wesley, who so speaks. This year, he wrote Wesley a tender farewell and left the England of his love and labors forever. At Georgia, the "Hethesda" on which he had labored thirty-two years was pros- perous, and the colony recognized him as a benefactor. "I am happier than words can express ! " said he over it. Soon after his death it was destroyed by fire and to-day the traveler finds no trace of it, but many a benevt)lence has taken its place in the fair He g. Ij rust o| He sal his T.-f '^ r1^> CALVlNlsnc MKIHODISM. I8l ..V city of Savannah. His spirited voice soared tliroiij^di all this consumniative )ear. "Haliehijah" was in liis letters. " My soul is on the win^ for another Gospel ranj^e ! " kan^e he did. .At the north, as far as to /Mbany and the then western frontier, he preached almost daily. He \'cMrned over the possibilities " of this new world." His last written words were on the tour up the Hudson: "Grace! Grace!" At I'^xeter, N. H., bespoke in the open air to a vast J^atherin^^ and, carried beyond his own control, fv)r two hours. It was the last utterance from the " tield-throne" \\here for thirty-four )'ears he, like a sovereii^n, had rided the niii;hty people as no orator be^'ore or since had " swa)ed at will the fierce democratic." The ne.\t da)' he was to preach at Xewbur)'- l)ort, Mass. ReachiuLj the place that evenint^, he was at supper, when crowtls at the d o o r would hear a few words. He was exhausted and took a candle to retire. On the stairs, he fal- tered and turned to adtlress them. His \oice was clear, and this, his last exhorta- tion, like Charles Wes- ley's last lu'mn, was full of sweet, Minl 111 u s i c. He spoke till his candle, like his life, burned away in its socket. He t^ot to his room — "And when the sun in all his state Illumed the eastern skies, He passed through Glory's morning gate, And walked in Paradise." GEC . WIIITF.l'IFXn'S LAM' MCRMON. ill ;i m i. % ^ '■;••■' ■fl V K; t "ifll' t. WL' ■ 1 f M ,'■ W , m:. ¥' ]ii i\\ He awoke at two with asthma. " I had rather wear out than rust out," said he to his companion who spoke of less preaching. He sat and prayed for a blessinjjf on his preachins^, his Bethesda, his Tabernacle, his "connections the other side of the water." At :.!.;■ I 82 Tlir, SroRV OF MKIIIODISM. r^ III , > ■ / ■i' }'i i '\_ I' I the window, pantini; for breath, ho said, quietly : "T am dying," and at six he breathed no more. In all the Colonies there was a burst of public sorrow, and in Georgia all the mourning cloth was used at his funeral. In London, all the chapels were draped, and Wesley, to whom he left a mourning ring with a request that he preach the funeral sermon, delivered it repeatedl)'. "In every place I wish to show all possible resj)ect to the memory of that great and good man." Charles poured his emotions into a touching and beautiful elegy. The remains of the great preacher lie beneath the pulpit at Newburyport, and many from far and near visit the ancient church to re\crc his meiiu)r\'. The)' should be in ICnglish soil, and his face should, at Westminster Abbe)-, " Look down on ni.irbles covering marble dust." Me had preached eighteen thousand sermons. I lis hearers cannot be reckoned, but no speaker in all records ever addressed so main' of his fellow men, or affected them so deenh'. Around Lady Huntingdon, meanwhile, arose a large circle of laborers. In 1762, she, with some of lu-r best men, attended Conference at Leeds, and there most of the great leaders of Meth- odism took sweet counsel together. She went to man\- places with her chaplains, and was at their prt aching to aid and comfort them, but she ne\er descemlcd from the ilecoruni of a woman and the dignit)' of a Peeress of the Realm. She was ".\ noble woman, wisely planned To comfort, counsel, and conunand." She had no call to partake in public exercises. Interesting men arose among her lay preachers. Jonathan .Scott, of an honorable famil)', was captain of dragoons, and had fought "on Minden's plain." He was a dashing soldier, but in the battle he came to despise mere animal bra\'er\'. A farmer, under whose roof he retreated from a storm when hunting, called his attention to Romaine's preaching in a neighboring hall. The next Sunday the captain attended, and the sermon on " I am the Way" brought him to Christ. He began to preach to his men, and soon, in uniform, was speaking to "amazing crowds." At Madele\'. he preached twice on a Sunda\' to an immense assembly, the Countess listening, and the next day to a still larger concourse near iiir ■ WHIT] burst gave missis his s.- Toria cAi.v MsTir MKinonisM. i«3 '3 »«^i by. I-'K^tclu-r called him "a captain of the truth." "I believi- liis reil coat will shame many a black one. I am sure he shames me." VVhitetield had the captain at London, "to try what execu- tion he can do here." At the Tabernacle his voice failed, and he WHirEFIELD'S TOMB IN THK I'RKSnVTKRl AN c Ml KCH AT NEWliURVPORT, MASS. burst into tears before the immense audience, yet, rallyinii^, he ^ave an inipressi\-e sermon. He t;ave up the army, sokl liis com- mission, anfl became a preacher. For twent)' )ears he ser\'ed in his sacred calling. There came also to the Countess "a shark from the ocean." Torial Joss, a Scotch lad, was early a sailor, with man)- an ]\ ,» ■i .'tl \^, t> % ^#. .9U,\^>^^> IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) / ^ <;^1% £/ ..-w^. <- 1.0 I.I 11.25 ^1^ 1^ U 11.6 Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 W£ST MAIN * 4^ »p : j. ' I m ir ii : H mm ■ ' 111 '! . H W ' fll II ,'». 184 THE STORV OF METHODISM. adventure. Wintcriiifr on the coast of Yorkshire, he joined the Methodists, bei^an to exhort, and gained the eye and approval of Wesley. As sailor, he was an evangelist both afloat and ashore. At Boston, luigland, he preached his first regular sermon and it was deeply impressive. He took command of a ship and was at once captain and chaplain. His vessel was a church on the waves, and his men could pray and exhort. Disasters were meeting him on the seas, but his ship was ho'ding the character that gave her among sailors the name of "The Pulpit," when Whitcfield called him from the Downs, where his ship lay, to preach in the Tabernacle. After several sermons, Whitcfield urged him to leave the seas and enter the ministr>'. Joss hesitated. Then disasters followed ; the captain's brother was drowned, and the like went on until Whitcfield said: "If }'ou still refuse to hearken to the rail of God, both you and your ship will soon go to the bottom." He yielded, and became a preacher of far-spread fame and usefulness. For thirty years ho preached in London and abroad, counted in eloquence "second to Whitcfield only." One \-ear, the Countess, itinerating with her chaplains, who thus bore the Gospel with a wide front, came to Cheltenham, the seat of Lord Dartmouth, then First Lord of Trade, Privy Coun- cilor and Secretary of State for America. He was also a Methodist and patron of Dartmouth College, N. H. Of him Cowper said : "We boast some rich ones whom the (lospel sways, And one who we.irs a coronet and prays.'' The Earl had gathered an immense assembly, yet the rector refused to open the church for Whitcfield to preach. From a tombstone he cried, " Ho ! every one that thirsteth ! " The Earl and his family, the Countess and other gentry, stood to hear, and the sight of such people thus shut from the church of their king and ancestors, while thousands with them hungered for the Bread of Life, was indeed impressive. Lord Dartmouth's mansion shel- tered the evangelists, and at evening all his rooms and grounds were thronged with eager listeners. At this time about forty clergymen of the Church were "evangelical." Wesley tried in vain to form some basis on which all could rest, and some plan by which all could harmoniously ral di firi C(>| hi hij CALVINISTIC METHODISM. 185 work. At length, himself, his brother. Lad}' Huntingdon and Whitefic.d formed a "quadruple alliance." Of this, Wesley furnished the true constructive brain ; and this the Countess per- ceived, and of that brain she freely made use. She saw the need of an educadonal institution.. The students for the Methodist work had small favor at Oxford. Six students of Oxford were brought to trial "for holding Methodistic tenets, and taking upon themselves to pray, read and expound the Scripture in private houses." They were ably defended by the principal of their own college — St. Edmunds — but they were expelled — an indignity like that put upon Wicliff four hundred years before. The case was stirred through all iMigland, and the voice of the best denounced it. Wesley's marriage had ended his Fellowship, but Whitefield wrote forcibly to the Vice-chancellor. Lady Hunting- don had supported these young men. She was now accused of seducing them from their trades that they might at her expense "skulk into orders." She might now with good reason open her school at Trcvecca. In August, 1769, the first anniversary of this school was cel- ebrated. All the great evangelists were there, and for a week sermons and other religious exercises were had, with great attend- ance, in the castle yard. The morning of the anniversary was given to the Holy Communion. After a sermon by Fletcher came one in Welsh, after which all were fed from the bounty of the foundress. In the afternoon, Wesley gave a sermon, and as did again Fletcher. The day ended with a love-feast, at which English and Welsh were with equal freedom used to set forth the wonderful works of God. It was a day of true evangelical har- mony and the blessing on it was like the dew that fell upon the mountains of Zion. The time of controversy was yet to come. Come it must, for "this is the state of man ; " but there could not be a better prepa- ration for it, to secure its benefits and avoid its evils, than such a day as this anniversary at Trevecca, There are yet some men to be noted. Walter Shirley was first cousin to Lady Huntingdon, son of the Earl of Ferrers and connected with royal lineage. His visits to the Countess brought him into the company of her chaplains, and to Venn he attributed his conversion. He was already a clergyman and he now entered '..1*t ■ . 'fii 1 .;, .;* !1K BS rf ^f 1 m km ,7 .1 IjHll I,,.:- I'll ir I iifii ! Iffif^i Jv I: ■''! U< Pi 186 THE STORY OF METHODISM. ^^i the toils of Methodism. Tlie regular clergy, in spite of his high rank, at once shut him from their pulpits, and he shared the same reproach as his humbler brethren. Mis curate, DeCourcy, followed his example and tasted his cup, Expelled from St. Andrews, Dublin, he preached from a tombstone, and, refused ordination by the l^ishop, he became an effective Methodist. At London, VVhitefield showed him a deep scar on his head, worn from that day on Dublin green. ~- "I got this, sir, in your countr\', for preaching I Christ.^^ Shirle}''s brother had killed his servant for ^ showing kindness to the w i f e , whom Parliament had divorced from the wretched Earl, her hus- band. For this act the Earl was tried by the House of Lords and sen- tenced to be executed, Shirley, Lad\' Hunting- don and others tried in vain to prepare the crim- inal for his fate. He died deprax'cd, fantastic, Rev. WALTER SELLON AND BREEDON CHURCH. , , , , , and doubtless msane. Sellou had been Master of Kingswood School, Later, on rec- ci " 1 1 4- ♦-!, omniendatkin of the Huntingdon family, he obtained Episcopal onille) SOUj.,nL me ordination, but remained a life-long friend of Wesley. SVmD'lthv of the WcS- Within the building are some fine monuments to the .Shirley . Iff family. Here Fletcher preached to great crowds. '^-T"''' ^^^^^ ^^^' "^"-''^ ycarS kept with them a close relation. His own field in Ireland called forth all his manly and Christian virtues. His only friend in the Church was his Arch- bishop of Tuam, to whom Bishop, archdeacon and curates were ever running with charges of heresy. "O your grace," came saying one day the curate of Loughrea, " I have such a circum- stance to communicate to you as will astonish you !" " Lideed, and what can it be?" " Why, my Lord," said the curate, solemn- ly, "he wears white stockings!" "Very anti-clerical and very t CAI.VIMSIIC Mi: 1 HOD ISM. 187 dreadful indeed ! " The prelate spoke as if Shirley were now " ^one." Drawing his chair near the confident informer: "Does Mr. Shirley wear them over his boots?" "No, your grace," was the answer in surprise. "Well, sir, the first time you see him with his stockings over his boots, pray inform me, and I shall deal with him accordingly." Well, had there been more such prelates! Shirley made full proof of his ministry, and his noble cousin said of him : "Blessed arc the lips that proclaim the glad tidings of salvation to the poor, the ignorant and the vicious ! " The Hills, a fam- ily of baronial rank since 1300, and still more famed for five gallant brothers at Waterloo, for a com- mander-in-chief of the British arm}', for the first Protestant Lord Mayor of London, and for the Father of Penny Postage, n o w ga\'e Richard and Rowland Hill to Methodism. Under convictions which travel and dissi- pations could not dis- sipate, Richard wrote to Fletcher, who, walk- ing some miles to meet him, showed him the way of peace. Rowland at Cambridge led a sort of Holy Club, and was not baffled by persecutions or bj' the expulsions of others. Jane, a sister walking with God at home, wrote constantly to her brothers to confirm them in the faith. The parents misunderstood Rowland, felt disgraced in him, and gave him little money. "Cleave only the more to Jesus," wrote Jane, whose love and meekness "shone upon everybod)' but her- self." She urged him to seek Lady Huntingdon. Berridgc, too, heartened young Rowland, for they were by nature akin of humor, zeal, generosity and of eccentricity as well. ROWLAND HILL. '^.' 1 88 TIIK Sl-!)i;V OF MI-:ril()I)ISM. '<•■ tr\ ■[;;; ;'i 11 ni III «', ff'f When the six students were expelled from Oxford, Richard Hill put out two pami)hlets in their defence, which did not im- prove Rowland's chances for ordination. Six l^islnjps refused to ordain him. He then went out as a free lance " into the devil's territories." On his Welsh pony he went at large, preaching in the highways, prisons or chapels, and receiving his mil share of heroic treatment. A ball was fired, passing near his head, while preaching. At home, his parents persecuted him, but, by the ^^URREY CHAPEL, LONDON, DURING UIVINE SERVICE. labors of himself, Richard and the gentle Jane, five of the family, with many servants and neighbors, came to Christ. In his old age, being then always greeted at the family mansion, he once said: "How often have I paced this terrace, bitterly weeping; while by most of the inhabitants of yonder house I was considered a disgrace to my family. But it was for the cause of my God." Richard, who had preached, though a layman, and who had been induced by his stern parents to give up such "irregularities," was doni she himi dcac vvorl Chai he pi all i( i -/__ CALVIN IS lie .MKillcjDISM. 189 sent to persuade Rowland to do the same. He found him preaching at Kingsvvood to thousands of colHers, whose tears were washing their bhackened faces. Rowhmd preached all the more earnestly for seeing Richard in the congregation, and closing, shouted: "My brother, Richard Hill, Msq., will preach here to- morrow." So Richard did, and from that hour became Rowland's faithful helper. ]*2very one loved Rowland. Droll Bcrridge wrote to Lady Huntingdon: "He is a pretty young spaniel, fit for land or water, and has a wonderful yelp." To Rowland he gave good counsel : " Fear nothing but yourself; look sim- ply to Jesus, and while the Lord gives you sound lungs and traveling health, blow your horn soundly." He could express in liis countenance every emo- tion but fear. Sheridan said : I go to hear Hill, for his ideas come red- hot from his heart." Dean Miller said to him: "Mr. Hill, 1 felt to-day; it is this slap-dash preaching, say what they will, that does all the crood " Augustus montague toplady, a. b. His wit went sometimes too far. He called Lady Hunting- don by some humorous term, as a feminine apostle, and, though she had heard him as "a second Whitefield," she never forgave him. "Mr. Hill cannot preach for nicT He took orders as deacon and went on by himself He built Surrey Chapel in the worst part of London, and he signed himself " Bishoj) of Surrey Chapel and of all the waste places in the kingdom." For fifty years he i)reached there and " everywhere," finding immense assemblies in all places. No Bishop ever outworked him, or had more influence. % 'i, ■;i c ^ i,r ■ ' J' • ( ■; l I 190 Till'; STORY OF MKlllODISM. Toplady, writer of " Rock of A^es," was an eloquent and efifectivc preacher. He had heard at the University the best preaching of the day, and was unaffected. For his health he rambled in Ireland, and one Sunday, strolling in where a dull preacher was speaking to a poor handful, his heart was touched and he became a Christian. " How was it that I was so dealt with? Was it not by special grace, and in God';, own time?" He easily took to Calvinism, and was not only a rare and effective preacher, but the staunchest Calvinistic writer of his day. Such are some of the Christian heroes of the period. If too much space is given them in this story, it is because they are men at whom it is cheering to look, and acquaintance with them raises our ideas of human ijoodness. «' A SOFT ANSWER TURNETH AWAY WRATH. all time, arounc It were yards were c T"' .IMS' "•'II •^% CHAPTER XIV. The Calvinistic Controversy. ^ IX years of controversy now came. Wesley at "^ Conference asked : "Have we not leaned too [\^"^ much towards Calvinism? " The battle over the answer to this raged hard, and all the " heroes " whom we have named took part therein. It has little interest for the general reader of to- day, and its story need not be told, only that after it the sky cleared, and love and peace prevailed. It convinced nobody ; all went on as before. In 1770, another festival was held at Trevecca, at which Wes- ley was conspicuous by his absence. Lady Huntingdon, after his "We have leaned too much, etc.," had written to him that, while he so held, he could never preach in her pulpits. But he had enough else to do. Fletcher, who had been president at Trevecca, now, for the same reason, took his leave in a warm, generous and noble temper, commending the noble Countess and all her works to the help and favor of God. Benson also was dismissed. Trevecca flourished. Its foundress spent there most of her time, and its students evangelized the country for thirty miles around, and from them her pulpits were steadily replenished. Its commencements were like camp-meetings. In a large field were put " a thousand and three hundred horses," after the stall yards of the villages were full ; from a platform religious services were conducted in Welsh and English before gathered thousands, hM Hi 192 III: M(M;\' of .Mi;rii()i)isM, M Jl ill iincl every rooin in the castle became a cliapel for exhortation, l)ra\'er ami soul;. L'pon the Countess now cair.c the burden of W'hitehekl's Or- l)han House in Savannah. ll.ibersham, WhitefKld's brt)ther Methodist, at Oxfonl, whose son became Postmaster-General un- der W'ashini^toii, was his e.xecutor in CJeor<.;"ia. 1 le sent Cornelius Winter, who had labored with Whitetieh' in the colon}', backed by a letter from its (iovernor anti 1j}- the i)ersonal plea of 1^'ranklin, to be orilained in iCm-land, and so continue the work in Sa\annah. The 1^ i s h o o f London refused to or- dain, partly because the colonies were alreatly " rebellious." T h e Countess )OU rht UI) ie whole projjert}' tl A m ission- ary band was orsjamzed re\'ecca, at"t er at T fortnight of serx'ic which the ureat names es, o f the ijipear Connection a s Pi" eacners and counselors. a 'man near, who was also a magistrate, just and true. "The law is for thee and thy mob," said he to the clerk; "he, a licensed preacher, LORD NORTH. ' '' -.■f ' ' ' ■.»./■■■- , ■•'■•#•■■' M. ' " • ■■■,/. 1! ! . 3":=" w i;;| I •! 1 ,4 ,11 ■; >;■ + i ■• ?! 't .; '■' i^ *f 's I Hi it if? ill ' : If V ^ r ur ■ 214 THE STOKV OF .METHODISM. was preaching in a licensed house ; you might as well have pulled me down when preaching in my own church ; if you do not settle this before the Quarter Sessions, you, and all concerned in this brutal affair, will be transported." The clerk and his men slunk back to town. English law did not so speak from clerical lips forty years before, and the change was of Methodism's own producing. At Seacroft, \Vm. England, "the best carpenter in town," welcomed the preacher and became a Methodist. A "gentleman" hired a ruffian to worry any and all preachers. He rigged himself as a prize-fighter for his work, but was himself soon broken and joined a society. His family persuaded him to leave it and, alas ! he became a sot, but he v/as always ready to speak and even fight for the Methodists. England had his windows smashed for lodging the preachers, but his townsmen rallied for him and his employer held by him, "even if he should pray on the housetop." And Methodism throve in Seacroft. The list of heroes lengthens. John Oliver, at Stockport, a loyal Churchman, was sure the Methodists were wrong, yet in their atmosphere he resolved to become more devout and observant of the usages of the Church. His own father set himself to break down this marked seriousness, but it grew. When John was invited to find relief in the Methodist meetings his father threat- ened, if he went, "to knock out his brains, if he should be hung for it." He went ; he heard striking experiences which he took to heart, and in secret prayer he obtained the pardon and the love of which others had spoken. His father warned the Methodists not to receive his son into their houses or their meetine^s ; he broke chairs and clubs on his young head, and then weeping be- sought the boy not to break his heart in his old age. He called in three clergymen ; he offered the boy all the privileges of the Church if he would quit the Methodists. At length, darkness arose in the boy's own soul ; his troubles made him wild and he tried to commit suicide. His father, fond and generous by nature, had him for two months under a physician, bled and blistered for his soul's health. Then the son escaped from home to Manchester. His mother procured his return and full liberty was given. He soon found that free grace and Christian sympathy can minister well to a mind diseased. " My strength came again, my light, of we in whi mot cha a St hit plet He and WESLEY S LATER WORK. 215 my life, my God!" V.-, temper may be seen from many a con- flict. At Wrexham, as he was preaching in the open air, a justice sent a constable to arrest him. The constable would let Oliver finish the sermon, but the " Dogberry" came and took the preacher by the collar. " Here is no riot; I am a licensed preacher." The justice ordered his constable to take Oliver to prison. "I will not go unless you have a written order." The warrant was obtained "to convey the body of J. O., a vagrant preacher," to jail. The multitude were on his side, ready to fight and rescue. One offered bail in ^ve hundred pounds ; another would defend him at all hazards, if he would preach at his door. Others would go to jail with him, but Oliver chose the forms of law. The next day the prosecuting attorney threw up the case. The fiirious justice threatened to have Oliver whipped out of town unless he promised never to appear there again. " I am an Englishman ; I will make no such promise," came from that dauntless breast. "Go about }-our business!" was the sullen discharge, and the preacher was victorious. Such battles and worse, and such triumphs, fell to the lot of Mather, a Scotchman. His struggles were not with mobs, except perhaps at Boston, where he showed how grace could control the hot Scotch blood. His conflicts were with magistrates did clergymen. In many a provincial vil- lage, not even "Squire Alhvorthy" could look on a preacher as other than a vagrant, disturbing the public quiet. It was long before these conservative minds could understand the true state of the case, but the brave Mather opened the eyes of many to the law's intent and meaning, and to the true welfare of their hamlets. Richard Rodda was a Cornwall miner. Itinerants, preaching in his father's house, had fixed his young thoughts on religion in which, like Timothy, he was aided by the faith that dwelt in his mother and his grandmother. He once knelt for prayer in a dark chamber of a mine. Suddenly above him the earth gave away; a stone fell before him, and one on each side of him ; these rose higher than his head, and on them fell another, roofing him com- pletely. Breathing through the crevices, he lived and help came. He devoted to the ministry the life thus threatened and rescued, and he passed through many a place as perilous. After forty- rT^ M R9H 1 . 1 m ■ > ' ■■ ' '.lii ' f s la- 'f.^rm ^:^ . :^';f.y\ '■''-A H ■■';;v.^(i ii'.: r k'f' '1 ■lit" ■ n 1 . ■ s » m ^ ', ; V '1 ■! 1 '•■* H i, ■■ '. II i; 2l6 THE STORY OK METHODISM. five years of ministry, with its full share of hardship, he entered the heaven of the brave. Such men were and always must be the great workers in Methodism. Iwen in our days of education there is work for "Sam Jones." These helpers knew well how to speak to the people to whose tongue and tastes they were born. They well know the virtues and the vices, the passions and the longings of the low grades of society, and they were sure that the Gospel was the healing draught, the balm and cordial for disordered souls. Therefore they persisted and would not be rebuffed in their errand of love and glad tidings to their persecutors. One, his horse be- ing sick and himself and his people poor, walked twelve hundred miles in the snows and mud of winter and spring, but " I would nave died to promote their welfare." Another, on his way afoot, when snow was knee-deep, meets a poor man and his wife. " Lord, what shall I say to these, Thy creatures, to induce them to serve Thee?" He speaks to them of Christ; he kneels with them, and wrestles with God for them. Tlie man feels unworthy to shake the preacher's hand ; the woman kisses it with tears. They part. "Oh, how willingly would I have washed the feet of those poor creatures for whom Christ died!" The spirit of the early evan- gelists of l'2ngland, of Chadd and Aidan, re-appears in these preachers, who gave all to Christ's work and ever served Him as in His own sight. Dec. 20, 1779, "I buried what was mortal of honest Silas Told. For many years he attended the malefactors in Newgate, without fee or reward, and I suppose that for a hundred years no man has been so successful in this melancholy office." So writes Wesley. This Told had led a strange life. At sea from child- hood, he had been drowned and restored ; had been wrecked ; had been taken by pirates ; had been for years in the horrors of the slave trade. Weary of all this, he married, and entered busi- ness in London, and with his wife became clear and prayerful Mr'' - ts. He proved an able man. Giving up his business, he s . av the Foundry a charity school, picking up boys and giris inn. ihc street, training in seven years nearly three hundred to usefulness. One morning he heard Wesley preach from: "I was in prison and ye came not unto me." He instantly felt a duty towards Newgate prison. He learned that ten men were ?*^y>.- • * % (' » H (.: 1 i 2l8 THE STORY OF MKTMODISM, i " ; . ,3 V '( Ji» if' there, soon to be hun<^. He found them, and getting them to- gether, spoke of the thief on the cross, and how the King of heaven died for the chief of sinners and certainly for them. Eight of these he attended to the gallows, and they all died in penitence and hope. The door thus opened widely for Told, and in and out he went for more than thirty years. Generous, simple and sincere, he gained the hearts of those app ted to die, and of all other prisoners, and even the keepers and hangmen wept under his appeals. He loved the poor men even unto death. Among those confined for debt he formed societies, one of thirt\'-two members, and strange ! his only opposcrs were the regular chap- lains ! Prisoners fared hard then in England, as Fielding's readers know. Hangings were prodigiously many, forty sometimes on a single Friday at London, while the populace made of it a "Ro- man holiday." There was no "law's delay" for the poor; trial was hasty and justice rare. Told was the comforter and confidant of all, and he, only, knew their guilt or innocence, for they kept noth- ing back from him. One young woman, pure, tender and de- vout, was under sentence for murder. She showed Told her in- nocence with all meekness and simplicity. Brought out to die amid the jeers of the crowd, there she stood, like marble, pale with grief — calm with resignation. "My dear, look to Jesus!" said Told, as they went through the howling mob. "Sir, I bless God that I can look to Jesus, to my comfort." In prayer and conversation at the gallows, in hearing of the sheriff, he became sure of her innocence. It was too late and she died a criminal's death, but died in peace. A man turned by a creditor into the street, with a sick wife and a little daughter, hungry and penniless, d-^manded of a wo- man two-pence and of another four. For this he was sentenced to be hung. He confessed to Told his crime and his penitence, and died in hope. His poor wife, Told found in extreme misery and despair. He at last took her to his own home, and there- after got her a place as housekeeper, and for her child a home. The good man's work, with that of Wesley himself and others, made easier and more effective the prison reforms of the great Howard. Hanging for theft ceased about 1838. A girl of T ^.joH iy ■■'\\ '''SB 'life' , ^ ' ? jf»i. •M 220 Tin-: STORV OF MliillODlSM. ;»''■ ci^ditcen had in vanity taken from her brother-in-law's store, where she sewed, a bhie ribbon worth eighteen pence. He saw her wearin<^ it, and, askin^L? her to walk with him, went to l^ow street to the police station, "Where are you takinij me?" she cried. " To be hung," She burst into tears, owned her guilt, and begged for mercy, but in vain. He testified against her, she confessed, and hung she was ! But the public conscience was stirred, and the laws were reformed. For this the autobiography of Told had been preparing the mind of England. These outlines of men and their doings may well end with the death of John Nelson, His sickness and death, after the thirty-three years of ministerial labor, came within the course of a single day. His leaving of the world, as befitted his looks and bearing in it, was noble. A long train followed his bier from Leeds to his native l^irstal. which had also been his first and most triumphant field of conflict, and there he was laid to the rest of those who sink " with all their countr)''s wishes blest." IH WESLKV'S BOOK CASL. :^!, !!•;;? • • ..■4'n* CHAITI'R XVI. Weslevan Methuuis.m Grows. -^'%*5^i^^- UR Story still de- pends for its in- terests on the per- sonal characters and acts of men, more than on any developments o f opinion, or of in- stitutions, Joseph Benson, converted at sixteen and full of noble longings for a career of labor and sacrifice, went to meet Wesley in London, to enter evangelical service under him. He was made classical master at Kingswood and afterwards the head of the college at Trevecca. During the Calvinistic controversy, the Countess dismissed him from that place. He then prosecuted his studies at Oxford. His instructor refused to sign the testimonials necessary for his ordination. After others were secured, the Bishop of Worcester refused to ordain him. The old hostility, for which Oxford had suffered the loss of some of her best sons in that century, now drove Benson from the Church. For fifty years he was in the highest places of Methodism. For nineteen years he was editor of its Magazine and all its books, and after Wesley's death was •/. -fV 'f'ir'H' , i ■ m . ! \-7^ * •|j% f'M ,, '/■:-^f'^%; ;.'-H «¥^|^ ' ■ ' ^'^\ .y . . '''''■•*) ■ i-il ■ i.'-f*' ■ ■■•^•L 'IIIK SI'ORV ol' MKI'HODISM. 'fi twice president of the Conference, lie prepared a Commentary wliicli, becoming; the one uniformly studied by the preachers, aided in an iritelli<.^ent and consistent style of opinion of exposition in Scripture. The orator of the Connection, during the last quarter of the w JOSEPH BENSON. eighteenth century, was Samuel Bradburn. He was of noble stature, and refined in dress and manners. His wit and humor often verged as did Rowland Hill's, to eccentricity, and relieved the sweep of "his sublime and grasping thoughts. " I have never heard his equal; I can furnish you with no adequate idea of his powers as an orator. Another Bradburn must be created and you WESI.KVAN MKIIIODISM (iROWS. 223 must hear him for yourself before )-ou can ha\'e a satisfactory an- swer to your inquiry." So said Adam Chirke, himself an orator, and another distinguished speaker puts it vij^orously : "Never spake like this man." His wit was ffenerally well used. man S bretl )ke )h he thouuht. (»f ome young Dretnren spoKc wit:i uiuuie em[)nasis, ne tnougl having given up their (j// for the ministry. Me had been n cob- bler. "I made a double sacrifice. I gave up two of the best (7w!s in the kingdom to become an ambassador of God in the Church and a gentleman in society." Mrs. Hradburn devised the Sunday School. In the old city of York the clerg\'man and his mob were set to repel all prcachc s. Bradburn had the notice given for an out- door sermon on Sunday afternoon, and, himself arriving, attended in the forenoon at the church. His fine person and manner drew attention. After the benediction, he so politely thanked the clergyman for the sermon as to win his favor, and was asked to be his guest at dinner. His host was ii.- pressed that this was a brother clergyman and no ordinary man. Bradburn was curious to hear the Methodist sermon and the clergyman was happy to go with him. " I mean to arrest the vagrant and stop such things." He agreed, however with Bradburn to give a fair hearing. No preacher was there. Bradburn suggested that it was a pity to disappoint the people and urged the clergyman to mount the stone and speak as Paul would have done. He " had no sermon in his pocket," but, retorting, challenged his guest. Bradburn at once mounted a stone and sang a hymn and prayed and preached : " Refrain from these men and let them alone," etc. The courteous clergyman was delighted with the discourse, praised Bradburn for his stratagem, and his door was ever after open to the preachers. Memoirs are left us of Bradburn ; his sermons have been printed, but not his eloquence ; like " music past " //mt " has gone away." James Rogers, whose wife, Hester Ann Rogers, was one of the saints of Methodism, was called to the itinerant work from the ground where, a thousand years before, the Abbess of St. Hilda, at Whitby and Holy Island, had given to Christianity its first English poet and where Bede had put into English the Gospel of John. All that early light had gone out and Rogers seemed to deal with raw heathen. In the heat of the assault:, a pious young girl took up a stone to defend him. A ruffian hit her in the face t h i\\\ >*'* I • V ■ ■, v-f m?9' 224 THE STORY OF METHODISM. n>i [•I h with a stone and laid her for dead. She recovered, but bore to her dyin^ day this mark of suffering for her Lord. Others suffered, but a terrible storm, as if " God had come to our relief," scattered the mob. On this wild North Sea border, Rogers toiled two years, and then, as Aidon had done, he started at dead of winter upon a wider circuit. Wesley welcomed him to the Conference of 1775, and for thirty-five years his praise was in the Gospel in all the circuits that he served. It is but of little interest that the general reader could find in the Conference sessions of these years. In 1777, occurred the thirty-fourth at Bristol, One hundred and fifty-four men then took appointments. The members were 38,274. No account was made of American statistics owing to the war then in progress. Wesley now began to ask: "Who have died this year?" The answer gave no eulogy. "John Slocomb, at Clones, an old laborer, worn-out in the service," was the style of reporting even the most eminent deceased, and not a bad style either. Wesley was hearing that his people were falling off in piety, energy and spiritual life. To every assistant — the word, as we saw, now meaning a class between him and the helpers — having oversight, he put these questions : " Have you, of your own obser- vation, reason to believe that the Methodists are a fallen people? Is there a decay or an increase in the work of God where }-ou have been? Are the societies in general more dead or more alive to God then they were some years ago?" To this came unani- mously the comforting assurance: " If we must ' know them by their fruits,' there is no decay in the work of God among the people in general. The societies are not dead to God ; they are as much alive as they have been for many years and we look on this report as a more device of Satan to make our hands hang down." One John Helton disagreed with these answers. He, with thirteen years' experience, held the Methodists to be a " fallen people," among whom he grieved to stay, " Let him go in peace," said Wesley. Helton went to find zeal and progress among the Quakers. At this Conference, Fletcher was present. He was not able to preach ; he had long been trying to restore the health broken by laborn, and a spitting of blood kept him in continual exhaustion. He gav to his brethren his counsels, his love and his prayers. ch ;■ "'if'' WESLEVAN METHODISM (IROWS. 225 To them, he seemed an angel stepping from the margin of heaven to cheer and brighten their pathwa)'. When the\' differed and debated and there was a danger of lieat and of loss of charity, he would suddenly offer prax'er, and not in vain, for their patience and gentleness revived while he prayed. " This world has become to me a world of love." To Perronet he writes : " Your great age and my great weakness have brought us to the verge of eternity. Let us take tiie Kingdom and enjoy, beforehand, the rest which remains to the people of God." To find health, he now, with his wife and daughter, spent four }-ears in his native Switzerland. In these days came a stir such as it was reasonable to antici- pate. In Ireland, the Methodists had long been ill-used by the Church, and Rev. Edward Smyth had, for preaching, been driven from it. They now pressed, and ardently, upon Wesley this question: "Is it not our duty to separate from the Church, considering the wickedness both of the clergy and of the people ? " "We conceive not, (i) because both the priests and the people were full as wicked in the Jewish Church, yet God never com- manded the holy Israelites to separate from them ; ( 2 ) neither did our Lord command His disciples to separate from them; (3) hence it is clear //; THI'- INIKMORIAL SCHOOLS, AT r.RKCON, WALES. I I WKSI.KVAN MKTIIODISM (;R()\VS. 22 7 I in l"'n^lancl, and in America tlic first Protestant Bishop. Wesley looketl upon Coke, so endowed in mind, heart and fortune, with c\er}.' i^ift and L;race, as his own successor in administration. Coke was, Hke his contemporar\-, Warreii Ilastint^s, smaH of stature, but his soul was as vast as that of the founder of the Empire of India, and liis eneri^ies were equal to the execution of his wide desii^ns. Wesley, in 1776, had taken his measure, and " formed with him a u.nion which, I vrust, shall ne\er end." Coke, forty-four years \'ounyer than himself, he chose as the coming Premier of Methodism. Coke pro\'ed to be its h\)reign Minister, while, in the pro\'idence of God, the office of pre- mier fell to a committee. The foreign field of Methodism was now be- oming immense in prospect, and the "tight little island" of I'>n,r"and was to be only "the motherland" to the new evangelism. Coke was the man for the hour, and during his life-time no missionary society was neetkxK as, in Wos- le}''s, vj) ■' Legal Mun- dred • ndministration ^'=^- ^^^^^ ^"'^^' ^- ^- ^- was nccdctl. As the P>ench King had just said, "The State is myself," so could Wesley or Coke, each for his life-time feel him- self a center, an embodiment. At his own expense, Coke crossed the Atlantic eighteen times. He spent most of his own estate, replenished though it was by his marriage, on Ins missions, and he was in their behalf an irrcsi . ible beggar. He was in a sea-port. A rough captain called to th< r< a'^iiinder of the next ship, "Did a man run to you for money uii< morning for what he called a mission?" "Yes." "Ah, he is a heavenly-minded little devil ; he got my last penny?" 'ir 228 THE STORY OF METHODISM. !« A ^M' «'.■■' sr . M v htW H'I'r: f *'li At near seventy years, 1813, the year of Judson's opening the liaptist Mission in Rangoon, Coke urged before the Conference an East India Mission. The cost of outfit, thirty thousand dollars, he took upon himself, and he headed the little band of laborers. He died at sea. "The whole earth," said Pericles, "is the real tomb of the great," and it was fitting that the ocean be the burial place of one whose soul touched all lands, and was, like the ocean, " boundless, fathomless, sublime." At the Conference of 1779 appears these rules: i."Let every circuit bear its own burden, and not lean upon the Confer- ence." 2. "Tell everyone expressly, ' We do not make a sub- scription for paying debts." The object of these rules was one most desirable and difficult in connectional systems — the promo- tion of local prudence and self-reliance among the societies. Almost the last of "Irish ^ nces," of which preachers were the victims, fell now to the lot . llc.wry Moore. He had in childhood heard Wesley in Dublin, and, after hearing preachers in London, he joined the Dublin society. He at once, like the brave Told, began work in the prisons. Then he began to preach " in a deserted weaver's shop," and his strength grew by study and by spiritual experiences. Wesley's eye fell on him and brought him to the " noble army" of itinerants. He became Wesley's companion in travel, and even his much-used and much-trusted counselor. After vainly trying to get a Bishop to ordain Moore, whose future importance he saw, Wesley himself, with two pres- byters of the Church, ordained the young preacher. It is notable that Moore, who is the first whom we find ordained by Wesley, was at the Centennial of 1839, the soul survivor of the men on whose heads his hand with the hands of the presbytery had been laid. Aloore was singing froiii a chair in a Dublin street, when a great multitude of Papists came running to his presence. They bowed at the name of Jesus in the hymn, and knelt during the prayer. At its cwd a woman cried: "Where is the Hail Mary?" Tempers gre.v' warm, and, as he began his sermon, a genuine Irish row began. Mrs. Moore and a young lady stood by the preacher's chair, and the mob, with the true and charming Irish gallantry, paid them more reverence than they would have paid to a guard of soldiers. After a few words, amid flying eggs and clods. WESLEVAX METHODISM GROWS. 229 Moore went safely home. A drunken sailor mounted the chair to sing and preach for the amusement of the cheerin<; crowd. Passin. ■■*»'! i'l ■•K ., 'j^ ."■'.•.if mm ■t: ■"' .1"^ IK !. !f. .>" S!l M J r f « \ H: n.i m ■fl ?*! (.1, if i i \ !l ! _r' i , ■ 1 i ■ '■; . 1' " : hi ' &< ^ ^ WKSLEVS OM) A(;K AND DEATH. 235 At cijrhty-fivc, Wesley says: "How little ha\-e I sufifered yet by the rush of numerous years ! " He has a little decay of a<,Mlity, of vision, of memory in things recent, but not in his other senses, in his relish of sparing food or his clearness and accurac)' in the writing of sermons. At eight)'-six, "Now 1 find I grow old." The decaj-s above named increase. "What I should be afraid of is that my body weigh down my mind and create stubbornness or peevishness ; but Thou shalt answer for me, O Lord!" He begins, 1790, "I am now an old man, decayed from head to foot." Infirmities close upon him. "Hut, blessed be God! I can preach and write still." As for many reasons, chiefly this, that they would see his face no more, his congregations were now the largest of all his life, so he never addressed them with greater power. He was in constant travel. In Ireland, he saw "such congregations as he had ne\er seen in the Kingdom." At Dublin, he dined with Father O'Leary, a Romanist and an opposcr of old, but a gentleman and now a friend. Uncounted multitudes listened in many a place, and the Word gained its ancient victories. There were no mobs, no persecutors. To tell of his last journeys in England woidd need a volume. No houses could contain the people. At Ches- ter, the hearers seemed even more than at Gwennap, At every place he sang his brother's hymn: "Shrinking from the cold hand of death, I soon shall gather up my feet." " I took a sol- emn leave," he often sa}'s, but, quite as often, "How are the times changed ! " He had seen mobs hounded on by clerg)-, magis- trates and gentlemen ; he had met every form of misuse ; now all was peace. With a strong, sweet voice, he gave his last sermon at Newcastle. It was to the children of the Sunday-school, and was in words of not more than two sj'llables. Here he asked ^'>r a man known long ago. Finding that he had been for yeai: [a misery and gloom, Wesley went to sec him. Entering, he said : "Brother, I have a word from God unto thee; Jesus Christ maketh th^e whole ! " and, kneeling, prp^ ed by the wretched bed Hope sprang up ; the poor man, who had lain there for years, went to hear Wesley preach, and soul and body were whole again. At eighty-seven, Wesley had no pain, but had lost strength and eye-sight. He expected simply to sink until the weary wheels of life stood still at last, but on he still moved. " 'Tis •1, ■' .' ' I ■'r ','«■.'. I rn 'r'-fll ;.yii 2 36 TIIK S'loRV 0|- MKIIIODISM. ■I -,* iwr time to /i'i'c, if I am growing old," ho used to quote from Ana- crcon's ( )dc. Ill 1790, ho held at Bristol his last Conference. He could no lonj^fcr write, and his signature to the Minutes would hardly be taken for his name. It is, fc^' all that, his autograj)h, his last, writ strange!)' large, nor has the word one more venerable. He could still preach, and, under a tree at Winchelsea, he soon preached his last held sermon. He e\-en thought of going to WESLEY'S TREE. Scotland and Ireland. At length, the last sermon is preached at Leatherhcad, Feb. 23, 1791. It was the last of forty-two thousand four hundred — an average of fifteen a week, since his return from Georgia in 1738. On Feb. 26, he wrote his last letter — to Wil- berforce — to hearten him in his efforts against the African slave trade. He then became lethargic, but rallied and spent hours in words to friends, in snatches of song and prayer. Nature sank slowly, but on the morning of Wednesday, March 2, 1 791, •';» W m ^•' IS .'i h» I ; . ; i JOHN WESLRY ON HIS DFATH-MED W RITING THE LETI ER TO WILliERFORCE. WKSLKV S OLD AGE AND DKATII. 239 he said, softly, " Farewell," and passed the heavenly portal. He willed that no funeral pomp be had. Six pooi men should bear him to the grave, and to each five dollars be paid for the service. His body la}- in state in Cit)' Road Chapel for a day, ten thousand persons looking tearfully on that dear face, and at six the next morning, to avoid the crowd, was quietly buried in its yard. The ritual words "our brother" were changed to rOMBS OF . QHN WESLEY AND ADAM CLARKE. From a photograph taken in 1887. "our father," and the bursting grief of the company approved the change. Thus died, in the eighty-eighth year of his age, and the sixty- fifth o( his ministry, the most wonderful man of his age, perhajis of any of the Christian ages since the first. His character must be taken from our Story as it goes. There is no special spac : for portraiture or eulogy. Before Wesley's own death, there v^erc changes among those who stood around him. Some died and others arose in their places. Of these, due notice should be taken. I ): , '< ':'■ ■ ■ il: i ■ ^"^^ ''<:' r. 240 THE STORY OF METHODISM. \w In 1 78 1, Fletcher was married to Mary Bosanquct, who proved to be the first lady of VVcsleyan Methodism. She was born, 1739, in a family of wealth and fashion. As early as eight, she was thinking: "What is a sense of pardon?" and "What is faith in Jesus?" She could not give answer, and yet she was conscious of both. Her experience outran her understanding. In the gay circles where her family moved, in the opera and the ball-room, the devout impressions remained, and some conversa' tions overheard from a Methodist servant-maid fixed her impres- sions and her course of life. She declined, from religious views, a suitor whom from worldly views her parents favorcu, and becoming acquainted with some Methodist ladies, she renounced the fashionable world. A life wholly devoted to God seemed sweet beyo'id telling, and " If I but thought on the name of Jesus, my heart took fire." One day, her father said : " There is a particular promise which I require of you — that is, that you will never, on any occa- sion, here or hereafter, attempt to make your brothers what you call Christians." " Looking to the Lord," she said, " I think, sir, I dare not consent to that." " Then you force me to put you out of my house." "Yes, sir, according to your views of things I acknowledge it; ano, if I may but have your approval, no situa-, tion will be disagreeable." Coming of age and having a fortune of her own, she lived apart with her maid, giving her time and money to usefulness. She visited and tenderly loved her parents, but she felt that the Master had set her free for His own service. She owned a house at Laytonstone, and there, with Sarah Ryan, she established a school for orphans, a refuge for the poor, a preaching-place and a preachers' home. Wesley, in 1765, says: " I there found one Christian family." Two years later, he says : " O what a house of God is here ! " After Sarali's death, the inst'tution was removed to a large farm at Cross Hall. Here Miss Bosanquet's meetings were overcrowded, and she began to hold others abroad. Wesley says of the Hall: "It is a pattern, and a general blessing to the country." She became an actual preacher, and by Wesley's advice. " I think the case rests here, in yo/n' having an extraordinary call. So has every one of our lay preachers. Methodism is wholly an extraordinary dispimsation of God's providenc'\" Miss Bosanquet, and the women whom !.!•■ WESLEY'S OLD AGE AND DEATH. 241 U ' :'« . she led, did not enter pulpits. She had in the chapels of her building a seat a little above the floor from which she gave expo- sitions and exhortations. " Her manner of speaking is smooth, easy and natural, even when the sense is deep and strong. Her words are as a fire, conveying both light and heat to all that hear her." So said Wesley. Her marriage was in Batley Church, Nov., 1781, and the wedding was a religious festival. Fourteen months after, Fletcher wrote to Charles Wesley : "New-married people do not at first know each other, but I can tell you Providence has reserved a prize for me, and that my wife is far better to me than the Church to Christ." Uniting their activities, they opened new places of worship, building a chapel and school-house near, so that in any parish changes the Methodists might still be safe. Into their Sunday- school they soon gathered three hundred scholars. They gave away most of their income. It went among the poor ; it furnished dinner to those who came to the preaching from afar; it built and furnished houses for religious service. Fletcher at last wore out. One who had known him for years "never saw him in any temper in which I would not wish to be ^ound at death." His last Sunday service was long and broken by faintness, but it was impressive even to awfulness. He lay some days in mingled suffering and triumph. "Shout, shout aloud ! " he cried ; " I want a gust of praise to go to the ends of the earth ! " A long procession of the poor were allowed one more look of his loving face, and that night he died, making sign at the last that he thought on heaven's bliss and saw it opening before him. Wesley's brief word of him was : " I have not found, nor do I expect to find, another such on this side of eternity." On March 29, 1788, Charles Wesley died. He will be known as the Poet of Methodism, and, we believe, the Poet Laureate of Christianity in the English language and of the world. He was, as many a poet has been, rather inclined to moodiness and discontent. The even temper, the clear insight of men and tendencies, the skill of adapting policies to changed conditions, these things which so marked John, and fitted him for the great work of his life, Charles did not have, or, at least, in some far 16 ■m mn mM^ itj 242 THK STOKV UV METHODISM. 'h (^ il lower degree. Yet he at first was in advance of his elder brother. Charles, at Oxford, was the first member of the Holy Club, ihe first to be called Methodist, the first to experience regeneration. Geo. Jno. Stevenson. Bishop Harris. Rev. V/. H. Defuv. TOMB OF CHARLES WESLEY. Mary-le-bone Church Yard. From a Photograph I'aken in 1887. He was also the first, and for a long time almost the only, man who ventured to hold Methodist "meetings" at tbs same hour with "services" in the churches. When he and Ins poor colliers m I'SJ WESLEY'S OLD AGE A\I) DEATH. 243 were refused the sacrament at Ikistol, he took the rcsponsibihty of givini^ them the same at Kingswood, as not even John had yet done. With all this courage and freedom, he was a High Churchman, and even refused to be buried at City Road Chapel, which became the very Westminster Abbey of Methodism, be- cause it was unconsecrated ground. He was more eloquent than his brother, and, even "in age and feebleness extreme," he still preached, resting at intervals in his sermon, while the congregation sang. Of condemned prisoners he was all his life most pitiful, and his last poetical publication was of "Prayers" for them, which, it is noted, brought in one day nineteen to the Saviour. "Not unto me, O Lord ! not unto me!" he adds. Most effectively did he "sing the Gospel." A hymn seemed always forming in his heart and rising to his lips. He daily rode a little gray horse and wore, even in summer, a winter dress. Returning from his ride, he often brought a card penciled with effusions. " Pen and ink, pen and ink," he would cry, and, ignoring all persons and proprieties, he would put the effusions in an abiding form. Then he was at ease, kind and courteous, his mind being relieved, and the world a hymn the richer. His last poem, the last of over six thousand, he dictated from his dying bed and his wife wrote it from his lips : "Jesus, my only hope Thou art; ' Strength of my faihng flesh and heart." He was eighty when after a long illness, he died in peace. His wife survived by thirty-four years, dying in 1822, at the age of ninety-two. The Methodists dealt well by her, her daughter, and her sons, Charles and Samuel. Wilberforce and other friends gener- ously provided Mrs. W'esley an annuity of three hundred dollars. At the centennial of his death his son Charles and his daughter had died unmarried, but of his other son, Samuel, were living more than fourscore descendants. To-day it is believed that five of these are preachers in England, and thr'^e in America, so that the family, after three centuries of preaching — from the days of Elizabeth — and a century after its bright, consummate flower, is far from clerical decay. At his centennial his hymns in the use of the General Church outnumbered as five to four those of Watts, his nearest rival. v^-il '■''■' ii ■"•«> i^Mfi ■m ' .'t.'* if >& ^ ^iipr* jt } ;| . I* M':''': ;i ) I* J'J'< »■'',■ . 244 THE STORY OF METHODISM. While these eminent Methodists are thus recorded, Method- ists of lower degree were ending joyful lives by peaceful or triumphant deaths. " Our people die well." Dav)- had not yet furnished the safety lamp to the coal mines, and frequent explosions were fatal to many a miner. Wesley's preach- ing taught the miners how to die. After the five o'clock sermon they went singing into the depths of the mines, ready for the divine will, and, if the fire-damp blast them, out of the depths they cried unto God and he heard them. John Patrick was burned in an explosion. On his blistered knees, from which the flesh was dropping, he adored God. " Glory be to thy name ! Thy will be done ! Thy will be done ! " On the night of his funeral sermon began a revival in which more than fifty of his neighbors were converted. Well did a good clergyman of the Church say : " I should be happy to see my own parishioners all Methodists at this moment ! " "One generation goeth and another generation cometh." In the Minutes of 1783 appears the name of Adam Clarke. From his Life, by his daughter, we learn that a preacher, John Brettell, found him, six years before, in Agherton, Ireland. His father was a school-master, poor, but well educated, ruling and training his own family well. Adam was "no vulgar boy" — cheerful, strong and, from his eighth year, self-supporting. He could not learn. " O what a stupid ass ! " one day strangely touched him. His brain aroused, "His long sorrow turned into instant joy," and study became his delight, and his attainments wonder- ful. Of languages, he knew over twenty well, and many critical- ly, while "all learning" was his province. It was with bitter struggles that he entered into the Kingdom of God. He had nev"r been "wicked," as the word goes; he had feared God and kept His commandments, but he quailed before the displeasure of a holy God, without whose favor he could not live. "Pray to Christ," came as a word of guidance to his soul. To Him he looked ; his struggles ceased, and there was a greai- calm. He was in a new heaven and a new earth in which he found about him, like a robe, a righteousness pure and perfect. Life became t nim suddenly rich, strange and pleasing, by the change that was in himself. He knew how this change had come, and he gave himself to the work of calling and guiding others to the m i :.* W ii m ADAM CLARKE, LL. D. f ' * I. if'. i'' ''i '. 246 TIIK STOr »• ru^'i 1' ■ 5* <:^^ ■'*-■ •'■-;. 4 J i , TirTMj ■[ 1 250 illK sroRV Ol'" METHODlS.Ni. His brother clcr^n'mcn slniniicd him; his people thought him mad. lie felt uri^^etl to ^^reater activity and begai) to preach be- yond his own field, wherever he could reach the people. He was amazed at the power that attendeil hii.i, " I never saw an\' fruits of m\- labor till I became irrei:jular." He was already a Method- ist and his brother became class leader. He was attacked by Papists — by the clergymen of the church. To the latter he proved that he was bringing men into the church. \\\c\\ Papists were converted and becoming church- men. This last aroused murderous mobs against him, but be- tween the two oppositions he labored right on. In the impulse of conscience, "as he would not have done for all that this world can af ford," he, in two \ears, traveled in his preaching four thousand miles within two Irish counties. Com- ing, at Wesley's invitation, to London, he became at once a foremost man. He aided Wesley in ordaining Coke and rendered, after Wesley's death, the high- est order of ser\ice, until his own departure in 1819. Matthew Jojxe, a Pap- DR. ROBF.RT MOFFAT. ist, an outlaw, daugcrous and degraded from j'outh, showed true regeneration. His only regret for an act in his early life was for cifrsing his mother. He quieted himself on being told by Romanists that no child can sin before the age of seven. At ten, he vowed never to speak pr* fanely, and that vow he never broke. For years he did and su fered all that belongs to the rudest course of violence and sin. With all the vices of the prodigal, he had the ferocity of a pirate. He was a pest and a terror, and more than once was willing to be a murderer. Wesley crossed his track in Dublin. He saw that kissing of the child on the pulpit stairs. That act and Wesley's venerable appearance touched his heart. He understood not one ■.*i'V f:J^ jf'ij at ip- ily MC iin. aaisa^i^ 252 THE STORY OF MKITIODISM. m word of the preaching, so dark was his mind ; but he went to the chapels "tiid in a few months was pouring out the distress of his sonl in prayer. Soon he was a converted man, and how much that meant with him ! More it could not mean with any human being! He was now a good citizen; he became a hard student; he had a pious wife. Ten years after his fust sight of Wesley, the latter sent him to preach on the Limerick circuit. He felt un- equal to his new duties, but his wife wrote to cheer him. Soon he was glad in his new calling; "so many smiles of His face have rested on me." So rescued from the depths, he served thirty years in the niinistr)'. sn WF,SI,FA"S BUREAU. I ' 4 lif. •w M CHAPTER XVIII. Wesley and His Institutions. fAA\Mf^(^ AVING seen what men were rising to help HIIH^) Wesley, and to carry on the work of Method- :yK|p I ism after his death, it is as well to be<^in to ^Lf^ju^ trace the position of his connection in itself P^I^/( '^"^' ^^^ attitude towards the Church of En,.:^- "* ' land. We have seen how easily, not only the moral, but also the material features of the system came on. They were unfolded like J— M— - a vegetable growth — first the blade, then the M^ ear, and afterwards the full corn in the ear. It J^Sr-^ has been said of the English Constitution that it was not formed ; it grew. So " like some tall palm the \\ondrous fabric sprang" of the institu- tions of Methodism. The divine will seems as clear in the call of Wesley as in the call of Abraham, and the movements of the two men were analo- gous, though across the lapse of ages. Wesley, from his own personal experience, felt the needs of ICngland, but he expected the reforms to be within the Church itself. "A little church," ricii in zeal, power and experience, "in a large church," that should soon or late feel in its extremities the vital force of the iimer one, was his ideal of a reforming system. Soon, ho\\c\er. his doctrines and his modes of stating them were found to shut him from the church pulpits. Xor could his congregations be he held in any church etlifice. The need of [)ersonal and more iu ■•4, -VM. m i'i n Si m ^^^^^■ 254 THK STORY OF METHODISM. 4 private relif^ious con\ersation led to the use of "rooms," and soon, as at Bristol, an entire building was needed. A local habi- tation at once fixed the character of the whole movement, and the laying of the corner-stone of the chapel at Bristol was laying the corner-stone of Methodism as an Institute. How chapels rose at London and elsewhere has been fully traced. These chapels were Wesley's own affair. He built them with money of his own, or of his own raising. His hold upon them W. III "IH ! ^ I OLD CAB STAND, LONDON, KSTABLISHED BY WESLEY. (From a phutograph taken in 1887.) he never loosened. As he could not in person take care of the separate and growing properties, he conveyed the chapels and parsonages to local trustees, to be held for the use of such preachers as John or Charles Wesley should send, or, after the death of the Wesleys, such as the Conference should appoint. The Conference was then composed of such itinerants as Wesley ciiose to call in any year to meet him. It was found that a body so constituted could not be known in law; it must be more precisely defined and created by methods riiore reliable, or WV WESLKV AM) HIS INSTITUTIONS. 255 it could not control the properties. The Conference had been only an extension of Wesley himself, being counselors of his own choosing, with whom his decision was final. In 1784, the year in which, as we shall see, the M. E. Church in America was organized, Wesley gave to the Conference a fixed legal character by the Deed of Declaration. It is the Constitu- tion of Wesleyan Methodism. This "Magna Charta" opens with a rehearsal of the usages already prevailing, as we have briefly stated them above. It then names one hundred well-tried preachers, who are to be Wesley's true and lawful representatives, and to be "The Conference of the People Called Methodists." This Legal Hundred are to fill their own vacancies; to reckon forty a quorum, unless their whole number, throiigh death or otherwise, fall below forty; to meet annually at a place of their own choosing ; to sit not less than five days, or over three weeks. Their president was to have both a personal and an official vote ; any member absent for two ses- sions forfeited his seat, unless he was present on the first day of the third session, or was excused by a vote of the Conference. T'lis Conference could admit preaches to probation, and proba- tioners to membership, and could expel offenders. To the chap- els, it could appoint none but Methodists, and those for no longer than three years, unless they were ordained clergymen of the Church of England. It could empower members to act as its legal representatives in any place. If for three successive years its members were less than forty, or if for tne same length of time it failed to meet, it was thereby dissolved and thenceforward all its properties were to belong to their respective trustees for the use of such pastors as the trustees themselves should appoint. All preachers connected with the Conference were later allowed to vote upon the filling of vacancies, and such as had been mem- bers fourteen years were to name the President of the Conference, whom the Conference itself must confirm. In no other way than this could the economy of Methotlism be preserved. It must otherwise break up into Congregationalism. For more than a hundred years it has worked well. The success of such a system, of any system, must depend on the character of the men who work under it. Such has been the honor, forbear- ance and brotherliness of the Wesleyan ministry, that disputes ■.,'i -.,' ' ii'- :'' '■ v^'-i ■•t ^ ,' h 256 THE STORY OF MKTHODISM. ni'} '■? !, I 1 about doctrine and discipline have rarely occurred. Harmony and good-will have very generally prevailed. To select the one hundred on whom the entire ecclesiastical government was to come was an unwelcome task. Wesley did his own choosing, that, if any of the hundred and ninety-one preachers felt grieved at being left out, they might have the issue with himself alone, and with none of his survivors. Some did feel grieved and annoyed him not a little thereafter, by leav- ing the body. Some looked on Wesley as a despot, fond of power. This rict of his shows his gladness at committing his burden to faithful men, who should in due time, pass it to others. He saw the need of the step now taken. At Birstal, the trustees of the chapel insisted on choosing their own preacher. He quietly arranged for the building of a new chapel in another part of the town, giving the one already there to the malcontents, but refusing to embarrass his system by so unsafe an example. The trustees afterwards yielded, and the speck oT cloud passed away. The financial system of Wesley began at Bristol. There was need of money to execute plans that forced themselves upon him and every day grew larger. The people were many, but almost all were poor. He commenced with penny collections, urging and expecting everybody to pay that. At last, "a penny a week and a shilling a quarter " became the rule. This was for vhe poorest, and none could wish to be exempt. The results of a system which seems at first view insignificant have been immense. It has enforced the duty and formed the habit of giving, and, as by Christian diligence, sobriety and p''udencc, Wcsleyans grew rich, they have proved themselves the most generous of Christian givers. We ha\c seen, too, how the official system grew just as nat- uralh' and noiselessly. Wesley was opposed to the emplox'ment of lay preachers, but what was to be done when thousands were perishing? No clergymen would come to his help. He had "to seek out a man from among themselves." His mother said of Maxfield: "He is as much calletl of God to preach as \'ou arc." So thought Wesley. Ivxhortation, exposition and preaching came on and thus there was a lay ministry. Hut there ^\■ere ^'f n WESLEY AND HIS INSTITUTIONS. 257 more societies, far more, than preachers. One of these must serve in many towns, and thus came the itinerancy, moving not at random, or capriciously, but as regulated from a center and in perfect harmony. From the need of annual consultation and arrangement came the Conference — a word almost limited to Methodism. The record of the doings of the Conference became the INiinutcs, and the revised Minutes gave the Discipline, as defined usages and decisions gave the British Constitution. To manage the finances of the society, stewards were appointed ; circuit stewards did the same for the affiliated societies. All the officers of the circuit met for its business four times in the year in the Quarterly Meet- ing, and several circuits formed a District Meeting. This system was found even more effective in the wide regions of America and Australia, but it still works well in the land of its origin. For the religious culture of his people, Wesley made ample provisions. Indeed, this was the final purpose of all his efforts, to build people up in holiness. He could at first set his own eye upon each of his little company every Thursday night. Soon his growing numbers were scattered over London " from Wapping to Westminster," and " I could not easily see what the behavior of each person in his own neighborhood was." At length, "We struck upon a method for which we have had cause to bless God ever since." As was elsewhere said, the members at Hristol grouped themselves into dozens to pay on the chapel debts, Wesley asked the leader of each dozen to tell him of the conduct of those whom he was thus seeing weekly. This worked well. It uas introduced at London and elsewhere. At first, the leader called upon and interviewed each of his dozen. Then it was found better that all meet him, and so sprang up a true and cor- dial fellowship. The moral advantage and the financial conven- ience of the class thus formed has been great. It is not a "con- fessional," but a free, loving, spiritual conversation, not always conducted in the same manner, but always for the same end. In many a place it has hold and saved the society in the absence of the itinerant. Wesley gave che members of the classes tickets, which certi- fied their membership (one given by him is at hand, i.> thi;: is written), bearing a text and some small engraving. These were, 17 ■'■■■i , (• ■ '" '.,ir'' .'iVV-. IF |i :«:' i-J .', ''iv M ii:: 258 THE STOKV OF MKTIIOl )ISM. each quarter, renewed to the taithful, and its refusal by the preacher meant dismissal from the society. It, durint^ the quar- ter, admitted the hearer to the fellowship of any society. In it was ruled to sjive "Notes of Removal" to those micrrat- '/ '3- in^L," to other circuits. The bands came froi^i the Moravians, and were close and more confidential than the classes. They were to be of members all married or all unmarried, all males or all females. They proxed un-Eni;"lish and they never frj-cw in Americm soil. In 1S56, the}' were struck from the American Discipline, and few, if an\', sur\'i\'e in I'2ni;land. Holiness me^^^higs take th-ir place. Once a quarter was the lo\e-feast, the old apostolic Aijjapc. "Our food is onl\' a little plain cake and water, but we seldom return from them without beinijj fed with the meat which endureth to e\-erlastinL:^ life." To this all the generations of Methodists of ever}' \ariet}- say "Amen !" Watch-nights, as we saw, began at Kingswood. The colliers had long spent the last night of the year in revehy. As had early been done with Christmas, the riot was changed to a Christian festival. Wesley even kept such a night monthly, at least for a while, "on the Friday nearest the full moon." The usage has worn \\ell, and the .ilent pra}'er which bridges the }'ears, with the New Year's hymn that follows, are often impressive. The one institution of Methodism most endearing and universal is the lay pra}'er-meeting. It has been i)orr()wed by most of the evangeli- cal Churches of the world. Well it might be! It brings out the best talent of the men and women of the Church; it is maile rich with song and sacred testimoii}-, and brings man}' a soul to the knowledge and love of the Sa\ iour. It fell originally upon Thurs- da}' evening. In many places it is for various reasons held on Wetlnesda}' evening, and, in American Methodism, it is the exact center of churchl}' life and devotion. Tlie itiner;mc}' is, after all, the m(5st striking of the Wesleyan institutions. 'I'lu: horse might be its symbol, as it was on the old Saxon standard, for "riding a circuit" was the earliest and most expressive phrase for the itinerant's service, though he often went on foot. We have seen them like Wesley, ahvays on the move. They preached often four times a day. The circuits had even thirty appointments for the month, and no man staid on the same (•^ \Vi:SLi;V AM) HIS INSI 111 rioNS. 259 circuit more than two \'cars, rarcl\' niort' than one. Of circuits, at \\'cslc\'".s death, tiiere were in all the Kini^cloni one hundred and twent}', and the more circuits ilie more itinerancy. Of noth- in<;" was he more deej)!)' conxinced than of the benefit of constant, s)'stematic change. " I shouki preach m\'sclf and the people asleep, if I should sta}' in one place a x'ear" " Xo one whom I ever yet knew has all tlie talents needful for bei^inninj^, continuini^ and i)erfectini^ the work of grace in one congregation. Neither can he find matter for preaching e\'er\' morning and evening, nor e^.f 4't^'i'. ^^w^i^'' W^^JS. h- ■'^-^'i-^^^tKi^KA mMS^^mi*. ^mmm^r^^^m Wl^lJ^^^pggl ij^^H^M ••■■f • «? f f 'il^ Mif^^^oM *> U ^ ?* ^ Sfl^fl 'S fir Srlfifxlr JOHN WESLEY PKEACHINO TO HIS PRKACHKRS IN CllY KOAD CHAPEL. (From a photograph of the painting, taken in 1887.) will the people come to hear him." Much indeed ma)- be said in favor of long and settled pastorates, but the Methodists are not likely to abandon the itinerancy. These times even show among other Churches a tendency to frequent pastoral change. Wesley was himself the model for his itinerants. He taught them to face cverj' hardship and manage e\'er\- difficulty. Iwen rules for their bodily habits he gave, "and first he followed them himself." These rules were often, as we might think, severe, but quite as often intelligent and excellent. They touched upon eating and drinking, rising 'and sleeping, conversation and all deportment. "Touch no drink, tobacco or snuff," unless a glass of home 26o THE STORY OF METHODISM. 'i:9''ff' m-^ I 1 brewed ale at night, after preaching. The rules for the treatment of the body are good, and very few have been superseded by later science or experience. The preacher was to take no step in marriage without ac- quainting Wesley with the design ; to be ashamed of nothing but sin ; to be a gentleman without affecting so to be. The rules for behavior are stern and stringent ; obedience would bring practical perfection. In preaching, his itinerants were to chose plain texts and stick to them ; never to continue public services beyond one hour; to speak loud if necessary, but never to scream. He urged constant study. "It is for your life." "Give your soul time and means to grow." Five hours daily they were to spend in study. He was even proud of his men's attainments. " In the one thing which they profess to know," he could compare them with candi- dates for holy orders, "even in the University." They had scanty support, and when they became "supernu- merary" — i. e., able to preach but two or three times a week — or "superannuated" — i. e., utterly broken down — they often knew the sufferings of poverty. There was a Preacher's Fund to which each paid a guinea at entrance into Conference, and half a guinea yearly thereafter. From this, an infirm man could have ten pounds a year and his widow forty pounds. For years they re- ceived in their labors only what the people chose to give them. In 1770, each was to have annually sixty dollars for his wife and twenty for each boy under eight and each girl under four- teen, but money had then more purchasing power than now. The itinerant life was severe. Loss of health compelled many to leave the work. Family needs made many locate and enter business. Half of "the first race of preachers," in number two hundred and eighteen, were thus driven from the work. In America, as we shall see, greater hardships caused even greater losses ; half the preachers dying before thirty, Half of the Eng- lish preachers are put down as dying "prematurely." They en- dured long walks, often in the snows of winter. Whatever the weather might be, the preacher, like a shepherd, met his flock. Of robbers they had little fear. The roads were often unsafe to other men, but highwaymen learned that the preachers had noth- ing to give but prayers and holy advices, for which they had lit- tle relish. Instances are given even of the robber's conversion. WESLEY AND HIS IXSTITUTIONS. 261 Wesley, himself, once gave up his purse with the words : "Re- member, sir, that the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin." The sacred text touched the robber. He followed on to hear Wesley preach next day, and, at last, became truly penitent. In all the hardships of the preachers, Wesley could say like the Mexican Emperor: "Am I on a bed of roses?" He had felt the same ; he was tenderly in sympathy with them, and gave them every possible aid by word and deed. But he could not make straight what God had made crooked, and the itinerants shared the appointed sufferings — " What is behind of the sufferings of Christ" — for the saving of men. In this sense of their calling they were habitually joyous. They were also always successful, and success exhilarates. They were blamed for lack of "gravity and solemnity." They could tell of adventures and of victories, and their cheerfulness, often rising into joy, made them delightful guests, as perhaps many a reader of this story had found them in his own father's house. One who has read of Billy Hibbard or Peter Cartwright can readily believe that Wesley's preachers of an earlier day might often hold their own, and more, in such wit as came home to the popular mind. His Itinerant Ministry was effectually aided by his Local Ministry. These latter were men of affairs, who preached at night r on Sunday as there might be need. As far as they were preachers they came under the " Rules." Many of them stood high in the professions, or were men of wealth and standing in commerce or manufactures. Time has not rendered this Ministry obsolete. In England and America, in all regions of Methodism, it contains able and active men of wide, general influence, and in some places outnumbering the itinerancy. The Finsbury Dispensary, in London, the oldest existing in- stitute of medical charity, is patterned after one which Wesley founded twenty years earlier, on support of John Gardner, a Methodist, who began in London the work of a dispenser. • As he says, he found many sick and too poor to pay physi- cians. " I will prepare and give them physic myself." He had studied anatomy and medicine in his " leisure hours." (When did he find them?) He had as helpers an apothecary and a surgeon. For hard ■■■•■; a' 262 Till-: STOKV OF MliTlIOlJiSM. m cases, the patients were to choose their pli)'sician. The sick might come to Wesley, " if they pleased;" he would do for them the best he could, whether they belonged to a society or not. In five months, at the expense of forty pounds, he treated five hundred, of whom seventy-one were cured. This dispensary was connected with the Foundry, where he had also homes for "sick widows," fifteen or more with whom he and his preachers ate "the same food at the same table, an earnest of eating bread together in our Father's Kingdom !" Lastly, he created a Loan Fund for the industrious poor, many of whom in their small aft"airs often sorely needed a little ready money. He began with fifty pounds. In a year, th's nim- ble capital, managed by two judicious stewards, loaned in amou.il^ of five to twenty-five dollars for three months, had aided two hundred and fifty persons. Near his death, Wesley found John Gardner working mod- estly for the poor sick, and friendless in London. With others, Wesley aided this good man, from whose efforts came the " Stranger's Friend Society." Clarke founded branches of this society in Bristol and Dublin, to seek out and relieve the victims of poverty, disease and vmcc, " not members of our society." "By their fruits ye shall know them." We saw Methodism beginning by calling men to be reconciled to God. After fifty years, we find it ministering relief to every form of human sor- row and distress, " doing good, as far as in our power, to the bodies and souls of men." LONGWORIH CHAPEL, 4 MILLS tUOM HLKEFOKD, IN 1792. Education and Literature at Wesley's Death. r^ nV.f* 41 '■«> \: CHAPTER XIX. ^^r MJMi K have seen how Methodism be- gan at the top of society. Lady Huntingdon, the VVeslcys and their early associates were of the ex- cellent of the land. They set to themselves the task of raising the English people to a footing in re- W ^ V' ligion and intelligence like their own. It was not long, and could not be, before these men of the University should begin the work of education. In the year of the first field preaching, and among the colliers of Kingswood, to whom the first open-air sermon was spoken, Whitefield laid the corner-stone of the first school, and knelt to pray that the gates of hell might not prevail against it. Wesley went on and built it. Lady Max- well, of Scottish nobility, grateful for the consolations which Methodism brought her in her sore grief at the loss of her husband and child, and devoting herself and her fortune to Gospel uses, letting the dead past cover its dead, gave him eight hundred pounds to complete the school. Wesley equipped it with six teachers, and its course of instruction was thorough. Here came young Adam Clarke, and his lively narrative of his own experiences there shows k >i'it- ■ I- I 264 illK SKiRV (»1' MirilloDISM. its rci^imcn sufficiently severe. In fact, the lady in charge might ha\c servcil as the original of Mrs. Scjiieers ! The school vexed and burdened Wesley, yet it was a fair success, chiefly as a semi- nary for preachers. After his death it was given to the educa- tion of preachers' sons. Soon it had to be supplemented by a like school near Leeds. About a qu.u'ter of a centur)' ago it was renio\ed to New Kingswot)d, near lialh, where the preachers' sons recei\'e a high class education for a limited pa)'ment. The York- shire school was discontinued in 1885. At Newcastle, Wesley earl\- fouiuled an Orphan House, and Cf 1. 1 \ili\ U' Ni:W KINGSWOOD SCHOOL provided by deed for the maintenance of fort}' children, with master and mistress. Brunswick Chapel is now on the ground. . It gave W^eslcy "great concern," in London, that abundance of children whom their parents could not afford to send to school "remained like the wild ass colt." Those who went to school learned, with reading and writing, "all kinds of vice." He de- termined to have them taught in his cnvn house, "without also learning heathenism." He soon had sixt\' children ; the parents of some paid for schooling; the greater part, "being very poor," came free. All who needed it were provided with clothing. The KDLCAIION AM) LllKKAl IRK Ai WKSI.FA's DKAIII. 265 results wore most ^ratifjiiiLj. Ihc children learned the common branches, "the three R's," swiftly, their temper and behavior im- proved, and they learned "to fear God and work out their own salvation." Wesley early felt the need of a theological school and, in 1744, he proposed to found one. l^'unds could not be had and he postponed it — for a life-time — makin^f the Kin<;swood school do some service. VVc shall see elsewhere tlu> present educational work of Methodism. The first trace of Sunday-schools is found at Wycombe, NEW ORPHAN HOUSE, NEWCASTLE. where, in [769, Hannah Ball, a Methodist ^irl, opened one for the training of children in Scripture. Twelve years later, Sophia Cooke (who later married Bradburn, the "Demosthenes of Methodism") was con\'ersing at Gloucester with Robert Raikes, publisher of the Gloucester Journal. "What can we do for them?" asked he, pointini^ to groups of street Arabs — children, poor, neglected and depraved. " Let us teach them to read, and take them to church," said she. Xo time was lost. Soon Robert Raikes and Sophia Cooke were leading to church the van of the W'i^ ' i'. • 1 '<' > ■: ' ■ 266 TIIK SIckV t'l- MKl IK iDls.M, "Sunday-school Army." a rat^j^cd train, well jeered by the gazing crowd, but a xision dear to oxerhaiunng ant/els. Robert and f: i^^-jij !;i n KDICAI ItiN AM) l.llKRAirRK AT W i;si.i;\ 'S DKATII. 26/ One miglit say Wesley had little time to be eloqueiU Man}' of them, as that before the Uni\.rsit\' of Oxford at the linie of his last recognition there, and that on l-'ree Grace, to which was due the separation from him of W'hitefield and Lail}' lliintini^dcjn, are of permanent interest and value. His Notes on the New Testament show a careful study of Benuel's Gnomon, as well as t/reat acuteness of translation. In seem tur}', and its historian can CiV i\ its men and event.-, well put in the Journal .is the)' were .>;ee:i b\' a clear-ewd bt holder. We tind Wesley's own travels, -tr-lies, plans and etVorts. .nul, beyond that, all tin; stir of a keen ana restl ess nmid le criticises booKs, old anu new, philosophers, statesmen and theologians. y\s he trawls, not a fctiture of the country i-soapes him. ano natural --ciMKr)- is set forth v.ith a liveK' appreciation. Vhc J- ;;;t.:'1 braiN n^uu' times reading., antl from it all accounts o^ >!> thodisni niust * liieflv be taken. He made a History of h'ngland ard one of the Church, each in four volumes, and a C'ompendium of Natural Philosophy in five volumes, For his school he prepared grammars of English, Latin, Jrreek, French and Hebrew, editions of the Classics, a 'T vam 268 THK STORY OV MKI'IIODISM. T\ *i M History of Rome, treatises on Lo^ic and Rlietoric, and an F.nfjjlish Dictionary; of al! wliich it may be said that he took from the studies maii)^ a clo^, and ^^axe them the practical, effective charac- ter which our da\- so appreciates. In 1749, he bes^an to pubHsh his "Christian Librar\'" of the choicest works of {.iractical divin- it\-. li) 1755, he liail put forth fifty volumes. Sevent\' years later, it was republished in thirty volumes octavo. In 1778, ho pub' lished the first number of the Arminian MaL;a- zine, the earliest period- ical of its class m the Protestant world, next to the venerable Gos- [)<}1 r\IaL^azine, a class nov.' .so numerous. Both still surxive. Besides theoloj^ical re\iews and discussions, it i;ave re- li.i;ious literature and g c n e r a I intelli<4"ence. Rach nunib( r had a IJ o r t r a i t of some preacher or laborer, :uid the Vc'diic of its one iiundretl and nine \-oI- umes to the hislorx' of Methodism is very i^reat. These many i)ub- CHARLKSWKSI.KY.JR., AT THK HARPSICHORD, lications broU<,dlt W'cS- 1l\ lo ha\e a bookstore and a printin<^-house of his own. "Two and fort\- \-ears a^o, ha\ ini; a desire to furnish poor people with cheaper, shorter and plainer books than an\- 1 had seen, I wrote many small tracts, «;enerally a penn\- apiece; and then several lar,!.;vr. Some of these had such a sale as I never thoui^ht of, and by this means I unawares became rich." All his f^ains he invested in his useful enterprises, and of jjcrsonal funds he did n(>l leave at his death so much as tift)' dollars for his funeral e.\])enses. What a sei-d bed we Uni\ in liis Mclliodisni ! h'rom his press :.^f ' EDUCATION AND LITKRATURH AT WKSI.KV's DKATH. 269 and sales room at the P^ntndry have come not only the modern " l^ook Concerns," one of the terms peculiar to Methodists' Houses of Publication and Sales, hut also the Tract Houses of the Prot- estant world. His Tract Society, founded in I7(S2, scattered his leaves like autumn foliaiijc over the United Kingdom. The sum of Wesley's literary productions is immense. \Vadin<^ throu,i;h the learned works of his time, he reduced their massive bulk to pocket volumes to instruct ami entertain the poor. A noxel. " Henry, \vdv\ of Moreland," written by Henry lirooke, of Dublin, Wesley abridt^ed and Charles Kint;^Uey has reprotluced. We mij^ht count of his prose works, orij^inal and abriilij^ments, at least one hundred and sixty-eii^ht ; of i)oetical works in con- junction with Charles, sixty-one, and of musical works, five. These two hundred and thirty-four works were b)- a man who conducted a vast correspondence, who preached for a life-time an averaLje of fifteen sermons a week, who traveled the circumference of our planet every six }'ears, besides that which came upon him daily, the care of all the Churches. When and where was such another man born ! i\ i well to note how his preachinf:^ made a market for his books ami tliose of other men. The moral awakeninij under the blast of his trumpet broui^ht on intellectual awakenini^. Where population was in its worst shape, the Methodists aroused the people to think both of the life that now is and of that which is to come, and the souls of the miners, as dark as their mines, were briL;htened with li^ht and inspired with lont^in<;s for knowled'^^e. I'ranklin found no circulatini^ library, even in London, in 1725. Twelve years after Wesley began to preach, the hunL;er for books outran the ability to buy, and such a library was started. All over the KiuLjdom, from Whitby in the northeast, to Cornwall in the southwest, Wesley's preaching aroused, and his publications supplieil, the first demand for reading. During his ministry, newspapers in luigland doubled their circulation. When he had preached thirty years, the first popular meeting for political discussion was held. The great market for literary work began to open. In a word, tin. f/iiblic entered upon a large intellectual life. is true that f^uccession of events does not prove causation, but it is difficult not to think that Wesley's labors gave energy and guidance to the P'^ngllsh mintls. m m \tL ) ■ > ■■fc,. ■.. I t I! ' 2/0 llIK STOKV OF MKlIloDISM. TliL- first h\'nin book of the Wesley's was issued in 1738, Before theni were 'I'ate ,'ii 1 the hke, most (jf whose shabby work has \anished. Milton had uttered a few majestic, or^an-like sonj^s, and that was all our lanj^aias^e had when Watts appeared, who was the true leader in h\-mn writin<^, and Wesley's first col- lection was lari^el}- made up of his compositit)ns. Some still prefer his luMuns to those of Wesle\', thoui^h he himself did not. Id uivc all I have written to have been the author of wou •1 WrcstliuL; Jacob.' ('Come O Thou Traveler unknown !')" We saw how warml)' the minstrel was ■.'!M EDUC.VIKJN AM» Liri.RAriRK Al WKSI.KV's DHAlll. 271 that these hymns were to serve as a litur'mns also called cnit the best work of other poets, and yave new richness and power to sacred sony. 'lO this day they ktej) out cheap ballad and do<,rLjer'.'l from popular servv- ces, and anew h\'mn must ha\e real merit, if it is to be used, or even heard, b\- people trained to the \\'esle\-an standard. The Methodist hymns are suny by " people and lantls of e\ r\- toUL^ue." The missionar)-'s first task next to translatiiii; Scripture is to fill car and voice with the sweet and simi)le songs that tell the (iospel so truly and tenderly. Weslev ur_L,fed the people to sing', and their swellint; voices with his rajjturous words, matle necessarx' the highest forms of composition known to the art of music, i landel, the greatest composer then lixing, put forth the utmost of his genius in framing tunes worth)' to be " married to the immortal verse," of Charles Wesley. What arc the doctrines of Methodism ? " Our main doctrines are repentance, faith and holiness, for these include all the rest. The first of these we account, as it were, the porch of religion ; the next, the door; the third, religion itself." In the experiences of the great salvation, Wesley noted three things to be distin- guished. Jitstijicatiou is a work done for us by which tlie rtxord against us is cleared on high, and we are there for Christ's sake c<'>unted no longer guilty. Rcij^ntcratioii is the corresponding work done in us, whereby we become conscit)Us of the (li\ine faxor and enter into loving, joyous fellowship with (ioil. Sijiu/ijicdtiou is the cleansing of the affections, so that we lo\e (lod with them wholly and do not lo\'e sin at all. This is called Christian Per- fection, a i)lain matter seeing it is the utmost of the dixiiu work- ing in the soid, for lo\'e cannot be more than love. Still the word " Perfection" is not pleasant to all. This perfecting of the w\/rk may be gradual or instantaneous. Faith is the soul's own indi- vidual grasp on the merit of the .Saviour, and the witness of the Spirit is the felt, inward assurance, l)rought from heaven by the Holy Ghost and revealed in the heart, of actual pardon. These are all the positive doctrines of the system. Heyond these it merges in general Protestantism, and even these are but restate- ments of the teachings of the highest standards of the tlaeological M: m KM .'-V f ., '; : 272 THE STORY OF METHODISM. world. It was the clearness, force and earnestness of this state- ment that ^ave Methodism its doctrinal success. Such was Methodism at the death of Wesley. All its branches have preserved the original famii)- features. Reasons for sepanite ortjjanizations have now and then arisen, but their likeness, not wholly kept or wholly broken, is such as ouLjht to abide among sisters. m m :: \i ■' ST. IJAR'niiiloMLWs TliE (■KlAI, WKSl' S.MIJHUELD, LONDON. fSee page 136.) CHAITI-R XX. MriiioDisM l':Nri-Rs Fkanx'E. ^ i '■ f 'i. ' ' ■a Mr. Gilbert, a planter from Antiijiia. and his two slaves, ^^^ whom Wesley met as they ^Z-' were staying in ICn^land. These had gatheretl in their island fifteen hundred mem- bers, before a preacher came. After like manner, it went to the Channel Islands to reach their peoj)le. and so to all islands of the Hritish seas. A native of the Isle of Man, removing tt) Li\erpool, became a Methodist. He remembered his own people and entreated John Crook, a preacher, to visit them. Cionk uent and [)assed the old ordeal of mobs with their x'iolence, and the clergy with their exclusions, rile work spread. \Vesle\- went and preached to wondering, lis- tening crowds. At a Liter d.iy, he found all opposition vanished. rwent\'-two local i)reachers met him. " 1 never saw so many stout, well-l(Joking [jreachers together." He found that never i8 -/ 4 Tlir, sroKV OK MKIIIODISM. U yet in any comniiinity had his preachers met such success. "What has been seen like this?" h'ifty years after Crook's com- ings the island had one Methodist in fifteen of its population, and its material fixtures were excellent. It had in i888, over four th(nisand members. The Norman islanders spoke no I'.nt^dish. and their reli^rion and moralit)' were of low decree. Le Sueur, a Jerseyman, went o\er the ocean to tratle in Newfoundland. There he heard a Methodist preacher, and returned to Jerse\' in a mind which his neit^hbors and even his wife counted madness. Fentin, a Ncw- 1/ \- I •'■»: JOHN WKSLEY IN A FISHERHOAT. foundland convert, came to his help. Le Sueur, after a lontj strucjt][le, fountl peace, as did also his wife. Soon twelve others were with them, and a new life began in the island. Le Sueur began to preach in French. A pious sea captain came, then a regiment, of which some soldiers wcie Captain Webb's converts. These wrote for a preacher who could speak both English and French ; "then the Gospel wovdd shine over the islands." Robert Carr Jirackenbury, author of "My son, know thou the Lord!" a wealth)' layman, master of both tongues, went to preach to them. His servant, Alexander Kilham, was able to preach in his master's illness or absence. He, in 1797, became one of the founders of 31 ^ f METHODISM KNIKKS FRANCE. 275 .:>?# hni;' the "New Connection" Methodists. Here in Jersey, Adam Clarke then took his baptism of the storms. He was pulled from his pulpit; his life was endan^^ered. His sermon in French, when order was restored, was a masterl)' appeal. His foes became his warmest friends, and societies were formed all over the island. Arrive had come from Guernsey to Jersey to remonstrate with his two sisters for becomini; Methodists; he went home a Meth- odist himself. De Ouetteville, whose French hymns are yet sung in the islands, followed him, and after much tribulation he planted Methodism in Guernsey. Then Adam Clarke went to Alderney. Not a person did he know; he was like one on a new planet. Stopping from some inward impulse at a poor cottage, he was met like an expected guest, and, when they learned his errand, they gave him the house and gathered him a congregation. After sermon, as he was resting, he was called to preach to a new gath- ering, and for three days he was under invitations and constantly preaching. " We wish you would go back no more," they ten- derly said at his leaving. Thus quietly came Method; :m into Alderney. Wesley then came to the islands. A furious storm nearly wrecked the vessel. Learning its danger, "We cried mightily unto the Lord and He heard us." He labored two weeks in Alderney with full, youthful zeal, and in the other islands he received every attention. Thus the islands were added to the domain of the revival, and nowhere have the results been more gratifying. They had, in 1887, 3,349 English speaking members. Wesley valued these French societies all the more, for he had his eye upon France, and these were outposts and points of departure. The Protestants of the fair land sorely needed a re- newal. Popery and infidelity confined and weakened them, and death among them seemed stronger than life. In 1790, De Quetteville went over to Normandy and preached in many villages. Dr. Coke also went over, and at Courcelle ordained Mahy, a local preacher from Guernsey, the first Methodist ordained in Europe. Coke hired a preaching-place in Paris, and De Quetteville preached the first Methodist sermon in the then stormy capital of r>ance. Mahy, after much success down the west coast, where Cath- olics and Protestants both sought the solace of his word in these 'm :| i' y\) 2/6 TlIK STORY OK MiniK iDISM. I, i'.l lift' Mm 'I bitter times, fell upon fierce persecutions, health and brain ^ave way, and these evanL,'Llists from the islands had to return home. Among the French refuL;ees on I'Liiglish soil was a Catholic noble- man, Ue Pontavice. He became a preacher, and, returnini,^ to l'*rance in i ^ ^. '. ^^' o^ ^' cir'.ss feel the piesence and the touch of a master. Hall was so enchanted by one of his sermons that he could for a lon^ time think of nothi";; ^ise. The preacher's soul came out in speech, antl with no action or t,n-ace of delivery he swept his hearers into regions which no living speaker dared to enter, or even supposed to exist. He was an unwearied writer. Sou they, the Poet Laureate, had written Wesley's life from a worldly and literary view. Wat- son's "Observations" set Southey ri^ht, and W^atson's "Life of Wesley" has become the classical one. His "Theological Insti- tutes " were long a standard in Methodist study. Now they are superseded by Dr. W. ^^. Pope and other theologians. He stands with Adam Clarke, some )-ears his senior; with liunting and Newton, who came a little later as the representative men of English Methodism in the first half of the nineteenth century. ^:: t "i ' ■';"'• Si -mi' iN f CHAPTKR XXII. Some Methodist VVomex.— The Village Blacksmith. RDER of time in this Story is not severely followed. We proj )se to var^- Its interest by freely anticipatiii<,^ ant' rcLurning. Chris- tianity emancipated wi.uian; Methodism opened for her abundant work and heartened /' ^^^^SP^ ^^^' ^^ ^° '^' ^"^^^^^ ^'^'cii a woman as the f W^^^^^^ mother of rhe Wesleys had lived, it is natural to look for others like her. Plester Ann Ro)\:.,.y!.7-1 for fifty years he was m^;-MM irrepressible laborer. ,H\i!MtM \ V Hit-. 11 III ; ■ V i '^ mil ,"•:■■■■ ' 'Mm' ■ 1#f -•i'M 294 THE STORY OF METHODISM. village blacksmith it might be said in the noblest sense "Toiling, rejoicing, sorrowing, Onward through life he goes; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it cloi?e; Something attemjited, something done, Has earned a night's repose." SAMUEF, HICK, ' The Village Blacksmith," receiving a visitor in his smithy. w CHAPTER XXIII. At the Beginning of This Century. ,R. COKE, who loyally loved the Church, wished the socie- ties to be held as an annex or extension of it. In his view, if the Bishops would ordain a certain number of the preachers, the Methodists would still be members of the National Church, and receive the sacraments on its authority. He urged that this was the true policy of the Church itself. The societies had now half a million ..-^ •^•— , of attendants, with fixed proced- -^-~~' urcs and revenues. They were rising in the social scale, and one, at least, Buttcrworth, brother-in-law of Adam Clarke, became a member of the Parliament in 1813. Rejection would in time bring about a separation, such as the Church could not well afford. Coke's plea was declared by the Archbishop of Canterbury "impolitic and impossible." To American eyes, the clinging of the Wesleyans to the National Church seems strange. Even since their separation from it, they have gone no farther than the middle ground between Churchmen and ..->,, ■m \n "U 296 THE STOKV OF METHODISM. JJ Dissenters. So have they held the stroiif^ loyalty inherited from Wesley and exemplified by Coke. Financial troubles now arose. The allowance to superan- nuates had to be increased. A society, " Preachers' Friend," was formed, by Butterworth and other laymen, for aiding privately and delicately such as were found to be in special need. But, by helping men defectively supported, the Conference came into debt. To clear thio debt off, a shillmg was asked of each mem- ber. The response was prompt, the debt was swept away, and a cheerful confidence in the liberality of the members was settled by this first general appeal. It now became necessary to arrange for the legal defense of the rights of the societies. A "Committee of Privileges" was formed of two preachers and six laymen, with an attorney. These advised and managed all lawsuits, and this is the first effectual introduction of laymen into the control of Methodism. Then lay stewards were directed to advise and assist in the settlement of circuit finances. So the entrance of the lay- men went quietly on, until to-day in happy cooperation the laymen have in the system all the power they desire. " Shall women be allowed to preach among us?" It was found that a vast majority of the people were opposed to such preaching, and that there were preachers enough there. Still, with Dinah Iwans before them, the thing could not be flatly refused. The}' might preach to women only, extraordinaries excepted, and in the circuit of their residence they must have the consent of the superintendent and Quarterly Conference, nor might they go to another circuit without the written invitation of its superintendent and the consent of their own. Many tried and well-worn veterans now vanish from the Con- ference, like sails from the horizon of the sea. Of these the most interesting is Thomas Olivers. He was a Welshman, of the grand type of the ancient bards. "The God of Abraham Praise ! " will tell of his power in song. But his depravity was dreadful. His teacher in profanity could, in Welsh, put twenty or thirty oaths into one, like the Greek comedy, and Olivers could better the instruction. He came into his twenties, a hideous young mon- ster, yet he often thought, " I live a most wretched life." He tried to reform. He saw that if he died he should go to hell. But down he went lower than jvc". He wandered to Bristol and ,vas inch ivith cd. and the to cut ^on- lost rand IwiU iHis laths the lion- Hc licll. and AT TIIK BEGINNINi; (JF iiH.i CENTURY. 297 stopped with a drunken Methodist, whose wife had once been reUj^ious, and wliosc other lodger was a backslidden Moravian, In this hopeful home OHvers got mad at the Moravian and, for an hour, swore his utmost. It shocked even his landlord. Insane with sin and its agony, Olivers went to hear Whitefield preach. That one sermon did for him what "the earthquake's arm of might did for the jailer at Philippi." "Showers of tears trickled down my cheeks." After an agony of struggles and victories he rose out of the depths to a pure and noble life. It was the glory of the revival that it reached such cases. Olivers proved his sincerity by immediate efforts to rescue others. He had strange experiences, Druidical visions like "the dreamer, Merlin, and his prophecies," but he got well of all these. His conscience became clear, his labors abundant and his advent- ures, told in his own lively style, read like a romance. One of his 'crusades was for paying up old debts. He went to every place where he owed anything and, after payment, he preached. One of his creditors was in prison, and handing him the welcome amount, Olivers gave the prisoners a sermon. To complete these financial adjustments, he sold his horse, saddle and bridle, and got home on foot. Wesley needed to see such a man but once. Olivers started afoot on a Cornwall circuit. A layman gave him a horse of Olivers' own choosing, a Bucephalus for this Alexander, on which he rode for twenty years and "a hundred thousand miles comfortably." "Forty and six years" was this brave man in preaching serving in all parts of the Kingdom. Before his death, his "God of Abraham" was sung at the Synagogue in London, and to-day "this cobbler's" hymns are sung in all lands. Such a man was worth saving, in the interests of literature at least. Mather, Hopper, and others of Wesley's " thundering legion," now dropped away. " Nothing in their life became them like the leaving of it." Their power unfolded as they took their flight, and it was not strange that such souls as theirs had so much stirred the world. While these were " trembling at the gates of the West," other luminaries were rising in the East, one of whom was to be, for his time, lord of the ascendant. As Boardman was about coming to America, in 1769, he preached at Monyash, a little place in Derbyshire, on the prayer of Jabez. Mary Redferii was deeply affected. Years after, being ,: ,^r:4 r N 1 i ^. '■"' ' ,t ' ' I' f ' :r:m ^f ■'■ *'\ 298 TlIK STORY OF METHODISM. i ■>'.' t:J mf .!*■■;:!' ; the wife of William Bunting, she named her first-born Jabez, in memory of the sermon and in glow of hope that her son's career might be " more honorable." The blessing of the aged Wesley on the lad at Manchester fell on him like a prophet's mantle. In childhood he was shut out of a love feast, and his mother re- minded him that it was his own fault; he had not sought Christ. He laid it to heart and here his life turned. He gave all diligence to make his conversion sure, and he was afterwards as thankful for Methodist "disci- pline" as "doctrine." His first "ticket" had for its text that prayer of Jabez that was the text of the sermon so marked by his mother in her childhood. In 1798, he made his first "exhortation" in Manchester, and in the same year he preached his first ser- mon at a village near by, worthily called Sodom. Mr. Wood, afterwards an eminent layman, hearing this sermon, said, half a century later, that Bunting had never preached a better one. JABKZ BUNTING. " For nearly sixty years, during which he was upon only eight different circuits, he was a central figure of English Methodism. "The Wesleyans have a Pope ; his name is Jabez Bunting." At his death, he had behind him along career of unbroken victory. He had most of the personal gifts of Gladstone and a keener insight of the possibilities of an occasion. He was the first man elected to the Legal Hundred ; he was four times its president, filling the office first after Coke ; ten times its secretary and, after Coke's death, its missionary ll gifts lasion. [c was ten lonary AT THE BEGINNING OF THIS CENTURY 299 secretary, which, after Watson's death, he resnmed. No man can keep a hi^h place in a great organization for half a century, in- spiring its movements and directing its policy, unless he has the highest order of ability. Like Gladstone, Bunting was strong, of noble presence and clear majestic voice. Nothing physical scented lacking to give the world assurance of a man. His speeches were usually brief; his sermons were not specially elo- quent, but take him for all in all, his abilities and the use he made of them justified the life-long place of power among " Englishmen, Christians, Methodists." The most popular preacher since Whitefield was Robert Newton, the last of our four representative Methodists in this century. His people were plain farmers at Roxby on the Yorkshire coast. They '^''''''^^^ 1 '^^*./ ;> «,^j5>.«^^ read Nelson's Journal and ^^^svaf liked it, and Newton's father hired a room for meetings and procured the preaching of itinerants. He was repaid in his own house. His eight children fi became Methodists and four sons acceptable ^t^r,: preachers. It was durinn- the the birthplace of robert newton. Kilham struggles that a copious revival fell on the notable region of Whitby and Robert was brought to Christ. At eighteen, he preached his first sermon in a cottage now replaced by a chapel whose pulpit is precisely where young Newton stood behind a chair to preach. He, too, like Bunting, had such personal endowments that one felt our race elevated in such a specimen. He was tall and kingly in bearing, with voice of Gladstone or Gambetta. In the pulpit, or out of it, the same excellency of power which is not of man, or among natural gifts, but which is in man from the Holy Ghost, attended him like an atmosphere. The common people heard him gladly, and, even in the days of Daniel O'Connell, Newton was addressing more people than any man in Great Britain. l-# :': 'i^M >4 "*H.f 1 ^ „U' ».i^ iiP^: fj ,<•«< >8 b '. ?-,-i 300 llll'; STokV OF MKIIIODISM. llis platform speeches were extemporaneous. I lis sermons were extempore. A teiuleiic)- to mental clerani^ement from which one brother died, caused his physician to prohibit his writing sermons or speeches. lie was fort)' years //h^ Methotlist orator. At missionary services, at dedications, on e\'er)' si)ecial occasion, he '.*!••%■.£: ROBERT NEWTON, D. D, was in demand in city and country alike. While Watson managed the details of the Missionary Society, as did Bunting after him, Newton was its advocate in the field. When he began his long career as a solicitor abroad, in its behalf, it had fifty missionaries and seventeen thousand in membership. At his death, there were three hundred and fifty missionaries and one hundred igcd AT Tin: ItKlilNNINc; OF THIS ( KMIRV. ;iOi T^ thousand members. Newton labored fifty-five years and, at his death, in 1S54, he was still "the oUl man el(){|ueiU." Of these four great Wesleyans of our century, we see that each had some specialty of calling. Adam Clarke was the scholar and commentator; Watson, the theologian; Hunting the prime minister, and Newton the orator. There was no rivalry among them ; no strife of personal ambition. I^ach simpl)- made the most of what was given him from above, and they harmonized in charac- ter and action like the accompanying paits of some sweet, sacred harmony. Blameless and harmless, they built up their beloved system, like the walls of Thebes to the sound of heavenly music. Other men of great merit labored with them. Dawson and Saville be- 4^ came far-known and ^*" effective local preachers. ^^J:^^ They like Hick, were plain, self-supporting men ; Dawson, a farmer, and Saville, a miner. They associated with the best, while they had power with the lowest classes Meanwhile, ^'4^^--^^^ great revivals occurred, "s-^-"'.*' ^""^^ At Bradford, for easingwold church and burial ground, three months the ^"^'^^ ^^''''''^- '^"^ Remains of I II ICC 111 u ML II M, LUC ROBERT NEWTON. chapel door, stood open night and day, and such was the pressure of awakened people that no preaching was had. All the time was given to prayer, comfort and counsel. Nine hundred persons were received into the society. Missions were begun in the obscurer parts of Wales and soon a thousand members w^ere reported. Amid the Cambrian snows, as no house could hold the congregations, the preaching was in the open air, even in the rough, wintry weather. So Wesleyanism grew. In 1805, it counted in the Kingdom four hundred and thirty- three preachers and one hundred and twenty thousand members. As we shall see, it was assuming a national importance and drew the notice of statesmen. I if ,.l 'I ClfAPIlCR XXIV. MKTIIODISM AM) THE STATE ClIURCII. .. t S the VVcslcyan Body grew, the Legal Hun- dred came to be of growing importance. In 1814, it was the ruling center of a gathering of eight hundred and forty-two preachers, and it needed to be of the best available tal- ent. Hitherto', membership in it had come simply by seniority. It was now ruled that one out of four additions be made by ballot from the entire list of preachers. This placed Bunting the same year, for his faithful service, in the Hundred for his long career. Coke now introduced (1806) to the modern Church the system of Home Missions. Parts of the country not reached by the regular circuits were formed into eight districts and preachers were placed " /// partibus infidcliuni" as Rome says, to call to Christ the poor, the scattered and the remote. In 1804, one might say that Methodism took national posi- tion by aiding in the forming of the British and Foreign Bible Society. Adam Clarke was for years in its service, and had the warmest regard of Lord Teignmouth, its first president. Butter- worth and Sundius, eminent laymen, were of its first patrons. The Society collected thirteen hundred pounds for its earliest needs. The rapid growth of the Connection, making call for new chapels, led, in 1808, to the creation of the Chapel Fund, of which the Church Extension Society is, in this country, a reproduction. MK'IIIODISM AM) ini: STATK (IUkCH. 303 Difficulties of a new sort now arose. T\ ic}- were not who un expected. In iSio, Southe\-. who had studied Wesley and h lly IS works in no favora article a^Minst M won ill soon be abl scruple to do so, a th e countr)' H< their sufferings the Newton was disab infidelity, but also d h e love genius an startling theme. Statesmen looked around. Lord Sid- mouth and other pol and cv t i c i a n s W i 1 b c r f c, <■ c c , were alarmed at the facts presented. 1' h e y found that Dissenters and Methodists had in the Kingdom twelve thousand one hun- dred and sixty-one licensed chapels and rooms for worship, and that in parishes of more than a thou- sand people these lord teignmouth. bodies had nine hundred and ten churches and chapels, more than the Establishment. High Churchmen and Aristocrats re- solved to crush the growing danger. Sidmouth introduced a Bill in Parliament, such as was worthy of darker ages. It conceded to the VVesleyans the right of members of their Conference to preach, but it struck off all lay workers. That is, local preachers, exhorters, leaders and even Sunday-school teachers were to be silenced on pain of imprisonment. Thousands of the best people in England, who were laboring to do their countrymen all the good in their power, were to be shut of their dearest liberty. ['Ml '. ^ '-'f'i' '.iff ''I ' '",':•-'* ■ ' illii • LORD ERSKINE. advocate in Lord Erskinc. Meanwhile, districts and circuits were astir and petitions were presented from every part of the realm, of whose signers Earl Stanhope said that their thousands might easily become millions. Erskine made a strong speech against the Bill and it failed to the great joy of all lovers of religious freedom in the land. Dissenters of all names owned their debt to the Methodist Committee of Privileges, who had taken with courage the lead and brunt of the struggle. METHODISM AND Till-: STATE CHLRCII. ^05 Then came another attack aimed at the Wesleyans alone. It was held that the old Toleration i\ct applied only to such as were pastors of si//j^'/r congregations. This would have swept away the itinerancy at one stroke. By this construing, refusal of license to itinerants and local preachers began at once. There was real cause for alarm. Percival, the Prime Minister, was a High Churchman, but he saw the peril of such injustice and gave a hearing to the Committee of Privileges. The Dissenters rallied to the support of the Methodists. The residt was complete victory. By Act of Parliament, all the old barbarisms, the Five-mile Act, the Conventicle Act and the like, were then repealed, swept away, and religious freedom in England came to be all one could reasonably desire. In 1812, the Conference thanked the Committee, and issued to the societies an address calling for thanksgiving. It procured one of the most important movements in the whole course of religious liberty in the land. In 181 5, the Methodists of the British Islands were two hundred and thirty-one thousand, having for ten years gained about nine thousand a year. Their preachers were nine hundred and forty-two. In a quarter of a century — i.e., since Wesley's death, they had trebled dieir numbers. Statesmen might well look with interest and respect on such a phenomenon, but there was nothing to fear. They were the best of citizens, the truest of patriots, though they knew their rights, and, "knowing, dared maintain." The annals of Methodism were still adorned with men and women of high, heroic character and career. Thomas Thompson, of Hull, w^as an humble farmer's son. Wilberforce, who lived in that town, marked his young merit and took him into his house- hold. He rose rapidly, became a banker, a man of fortune and a member of Parliament, doing religion true and loyal service. At his expense, the Holderncss Mission was e;,.ablished and here was the last of those heroic struggles on British soil which our Story will recount. A young man of talent and culture began the work. He met unmerciful persecution. At his meetings by night spar- rows were let loose to put ou'. the lights, the doors were fastened, and fumes of assafcL'tida blown in upon the congregations. Driven from one place, the young man w jnt to another. The rector of 30 ■rj ■ ■ . V -Mi ■ mi ■; 't!il 1 I ; 'W U ■if Si ?i mi ' III ,^;'^'*: li: "'(; ' , I ■ 306 TIIK STORV OF METHODISM. Rocs was also a mai/istratc and cncouraLTcd the rioters. Under his influence, no man would stand by the preacher or testify for him in court. Many even ajipeared atj^ainst him. Then he became his own witness and advocate, and so set forth his errand and his acts that the presidinj^ ji'dg'-' gave the rector, who sat by his side, a sharp reprimand, and the missionary thereafter had legal protection. Of hardships in food, lodgings and labor, the wayfaring evangelist had still a goodly share. More than one home missionary now drank of the cup pressed to the lips of Wesley and his laborers two genera- tions before, but by faith and patience they gained the same victories on a less conspicuous scale. The preachers of the first times were now gone. Of their immediate suc- cessors, few were now in service, but they were al- lowed to see, in 1814, the greatest rcviwal on record. Tt was in Cortiwall, and extend e d f r o m 1 1 u r o Ij through the peninsula — fort}' miles. In some parishes hardl\- ten were unvisited b\' intluences of josKPii LiVF.SKv, TIIK FIRST tketotali:r. gracc. Some chapels were occupied for four weeks, night and day, and sometimes forty persons were added to the societ\' v\ one da\'. In the caverns of the mines, in the smelters antl all work-houses, prayer and [Jiaise were heard. A heavenly breeze blew over the region and brought healing on its wings. Drunkards became temperate, the profane became devout and the character of whole neighborhoods was changed. Fifty-two hundred were added to the six circuits most touched by the great work. It is worth notice that in these times one hears of the clearest and simplest teacher of the faith that t\v METHODISM AND THE STAI K CIIL kCII. 307 has yet appeared in Methodism. It was William Carvosso. He was a farmer and fisherman on the Cornish coast, and was up to the standard of proficiency in the vices of his day. His sister, becoming converted among the Methodists, came twelve miles to tell her family. She induced William to go to the preaching. He was deeply convicted, gave up all vices, and after much tribula- tion he entered into the Kingdom of God. He came to love the Saviour with all his heart, and to his death, at eighty-five, he walked in the light. Removing to a farm, "a mere desert," near "a f e e b 1 c, d c s t i t u t e class," he entered with large views upon the care of both. His hard farm }'ielded to wise and diligent treatment, so that he became nble to live without personal labor, and to give his whole time to the classes. Verdure broke out in dry places. Some of his neighbors were converted ; soon he had two large classes, and then a chai)el "of his own building or beg- ging." His family were converted ; the chapel was replaced b\' wii.liam carvosso. a larger, and the work dear to the great class leader's heart went prosperously. Then came the revival of which we have just been telling. "I call it a 'glorious revival'; 'such as my i\es never saw before.' His society, of which we noticed the small beginning, became two hundred, and of its classes he took three. Henceforth, he L;ave himself wholly to the service '^f religion and "went about doing good" in a still-hunting style. "I am a teacher, but not a preacher; that is a work to which God has not called me.' Teacher he was, in that he knew what he taught, was convinced -m Hi ■> ; 308 THr, STORY OF MKTHODISM. I, >-f-k ■■ , I it : 'km j 5 ! . ' VIS I, ■ li 'o' w <;. r of its value, could adapt it for entrance into the minds of others, and could ur^e it with personal force and \'ivacit\'. To this, which makes a teacher, was added the divine influence. His soul was always oxerfull, and common Christian phrases tcjok s^low and ener^x- from him. At middle aL;e he learnetl to write, so as to guide souls in the i)ath of life when he could no longer visit them. In short, he was the monel of class leaders. During his career, Methodism in his circuit increased on the whole about sevenfold, and of this increase a large credit is assigned to his la- bors. His life is still read far and wide by those who are learning the art of which he was master. During these years was held the first English camp-meeting. Lorenzo Dow, an eccentric but zealous preacher of Ver- ^, mont, had made his way ~;^^ to Staffordshire. Camp- meetings w^cre useful in the thinly-peopled regions of the United States. He raised a flag on Mow Hill and called the people to their tents. The n e w agency was made a great blessing and other meet- ings followed ; approved by the people but op- posed b}' the preachers, they hardly found {)lace on the crowded soil of luigland. After some debate, the Conference declared them improper. Still they were held, and Hourne, a leading lax'man, was expelled from his societ}' for his [jersistence in sustaining them. Clowes, a local preacher, was for the same reason expelled. The latter then gave up his business. He began as a home missionary. Other men came to his help. They gleaned in the highways and market- places and, for local reasons, twenty-eight preachers from various circuits joined him. Thus, in 1810, was formed a new denomination, "The Primitive Methodists." WILLIAM CLOWES. ■ "' III ,ti METHODISM AM) TIIH STATE CIILRCH. 309 to [C\V ;at .-ct- d )VC op- itcr |tbcy his llocal 'javc men irkct- Irious ^tion, In 1887 the}' held in Scarborough, their sixt\'-cighth Con- ference, a body composed of one-third preachers and two-thirds laymen. K xt to the W'esleyans, the}' are the largest Methodist body in I'^ngland, having now one thousand and forty-three sta- tioned preachers and one hundred and ninety-one thousand six hundred and forty-one members. At the Conference of 1866, they complained of a "tendency to Congregationalism" by form- ing a circuit "with one chapel and one preacher." They have often been, from the stir they make in their religious services, called Ranters. Their work has been chiefl)' among the lower classes. They have been an active, useful people. During the year 1866, they issued two millions of books and magazines. Their Quarterly and six monthly magazines are of excellent quality. How strange that dis- like of Dow's camp- meetings should result in developing such a people ! Mary (Bosanquet) Fletcher had now out- lived, by thirty years, her saintly husband. She believed that his marv bosanquet fletcher. spirit was yet in fellowship with hers. She prosecuted the works in which he had been interested, and her home at Madeley was the center of Christian hospitalit}', prayer and converse, through all her life's sunn)' afternoon. She commemorated in a cpiiet way her wedding-day and her husband's death. On Dec. 9, 1815, "the best year of all my life," she died in calm, sweet silence. Of her charities, enough may be known from the fact that, on herself, she spent in one )'ear twenty-fue dollars, and on her chari- ties over nine hundred dollars, and so ran her accounts for many years. This )'ear, 1815, died the gooil Latly Mary l''itzgerald. ^.iT '¥ • *> . Ji' ■ : ,' 1 r! MB ii lO TIIK STORY Ol'" MK'IIIODISM. She was of the hiL^hest rank, three of her brothers in succession being l<2arls of J^ristol. Her husband was an earl, from whom, for his vices, the House of Lords granted her a chvorce. She turned from the gay, sad world and, according to her larger means, followed Mrs. Fletcher. Her rank imposed style and expenditure, but she was a faithful member of a Methodist society and, at death, wished burial near Mr. Wesley, at City Road Yard, rather than with the ICarls and Ladies of her ancestry. For some years after the death of these ladies, there followed like departures of men named in earlier parts of our Story, Of these, our American readers will hardly care to hear particularly, seeing that so much is to be said of Methodism at home in our own land. The four great leaders were in full activity. The eld- est, Adam Clarke, was wearing out. "I must hide my head in the country, or it will shortly be hidden in the grave." His pro- digious literary labors had been remunerative, and he now settled at Milbrook, near Liverpool, and thence made sallies for service in every direction. He also, there, educated two Buddhist priests, whom we shall sec serving well their native land. In 1816, he visited his home in Ireland. In forty years, he had become a stranger, and none of his kin were there, but he saw the barn where he had first heard Methodist preaching, and the spot in a field where peace came to his soid. Presiding at the Irish Conference of that year, he found them debating the old question of the sacraments. Many influential laymen were op- posed to the demand from the rest of the laity that they receive these from the hands of their own pastors. With these latter, Clarke sympathized, and the majority of the Conference decided in their favor. A schism at once followed. "The Primitive Wesleyans of Ireland," taking the name from those of luigland, formed a new body, and a third of the Irish Methodists, about ten thousand, went with them. They differed from the Wesleyans in nothing but that they counted their own pastors as simple lay- men, and took the sacraments at the churches only. After sixty } MS, being about fifteen thousand, they returned to the parent s ci-'t}' in 1877. We noticed what men founded Methodism in Ireland and with what labor and sufferings. P"or twenty-two \'cars after Wesley's death. Coke presided at its Conferences and lavished his labors there. Irish preachers were raised up slowly and, after METHODISM AND llIE ST ATI-: ' IIURCH. 311 thirt}' years, there were but twelve. Then Irehmd be<^an to send men to England — Walsh, Adam Clarke, Moore and Thompson. Meanwhile, the "Rebellion" came on, in which all Protestants suffered, and the Methodists, who were presumed to be loyal to England, suffered worst of all. The histories of the time tell of awful scenes. So utterly fierce and brutal were the insurgents that to this day, the horrid traditions affect the politics of Irish Methodists, and this very session — 1888 — is marked by violent Home Rule debate. A loyal Methodist had from his brother secret news that Dublin was to be sacked. The news enabled the Lord Lieutenant to defend the city. He gratefully granted to the Con- ference and to the individual preachers every privilege and all the protection in his power. This Conference provided a mission to the "wild Irish" in their own language. McQuigg, an eminent L"ish scholar, became a missionary. His health proving unequal to the rough task, he, under the aus- pices of the British and Foreign Bible Society, put forth the Bible in Irish. This, widely circulated, has had a marked influence. Charles Graham, the other missionary, had been a rollicking, up- roarious Irishman, but he had been converted at the preaching of an itinerant. His Irish speech and wit served him well. Of course he knew what mobs were. At Tralec, he was to be killed, but the stone aimed at him hit the accomplice of the thrower, who died confessing his design. Bartley Campbell was a staunch Papist, but of restless, hun- gry soul. He prayed, did penance, had absolution, went to St. Patrick's purgatory, and at the "houly tomb" received again absolution. All did not comfort him. "What shall I do?" "Why, go to bed and sleep." "Perhaps I may awake in hell!" The priest threatened to horsewhip him for his insolence. Cam[)- bcU went in tears to a lone place and prayed. He found pardon for Christ's sake. Going back to the "purgatory," he told the way of relief to the people there, doing penance on bleeding knees. The priest drove him away, but he was thereafter a warm, brave witness of what Christianity can do for an Irishman. For half a century, the foremost Irish evangelist was Gideon Ouseley. He was of an eminent Galway family and a career was open to him. He was fearless, generous, and devoted to the work to which he was called at his conversion. One day, he rode ■"if, :K>. (■ -i c* :J 312 IIIK si'oRV OF .Mi;riI(.l>lsM. !■ 'HI If! T 'i /' . JfUJHirt^ ^: . my ^ ml 1 ' i ? 'i ' ■ ■»'■ \t]^t t , IW: (■! uj) where a priest was sayint^^ mass. KnccliiiL; with the crowtl, he ga\'e theni in Irish all the (iosjx.'l part (»r tlie mass, and when all rose he spoke to them of peace with God tlirouL^h faith m Christ alone. "Father, who is that?" the}' cried to the prit'st. "I don't know; he is not a man at all; he is an ans^el ; no man could do what he has done," said he, as ()usele\- rode awa)-. Such men wi'ut to the worst i)laces in Ireland, preaching often three or four times a da\-. rhe\- went to ground stained b\' thv , obellion and spoke to huntrr\', ra^L;\i;ed thousands. The}' translated Wesle\-'s lu'mns into the pa- thetic sweetness of the Irish lani^ua^e, and from man)' a cabin tlie inmates ran out to hear their own speech and crossed thcmseh'es and knelt in tears. The w a r m , Celtic t e m p c r flamed into many an Irish .^0t7^ 1* o w with u n s p e a k a b le .^'' \ '■c/3^0: comicalities; weepinc^, 3^ > /''^S^'i'^7^>/ pi"^yiiif^. shouting and -^?^- J^Lm fightini^ i^oing on at once iJI^W^^H- " '" ^^^'^^^ confusion." The ■ ^ " Irish masses heard the :- Gospel. Usually the atti- tudes of Protestant and Catholic in Ireland have been defi uit, but Ouseley ;^ and his men did not fear or ■^:.'; hate their unwashed coun- "g^ tr\-men. He was a trained "gintleman ; " he was as witt\' in their own tuneful GIDEON OUSRLEV Preaching in the SaCdlc. ^^,^^.^,^, ^^ ^^^^.^. b.-Jgl^t^..^ . he could sint^ like Caoch OT.ear\', and he was honestly reverent in his allusions to the Viri^in. All, even *■'■«(,' Papists of the bigoted sort, loved for x-arious reasons, to listen to him, and counted it an entertainment at least, while ahva\'s some hearts were truly touched. Once in a Pa])ist town, he hired the bellman to announce preaching", but saw the timid man did not half do it. Taking the bell himself, and with \'oice as loud, "Gideon Ousele}', the Irish missionarx', is to preach this ex'cning, at such a place and l.'our. And f (iiu the man iiiy&clf!' The Irish could enjoy that! Those /f ■■ Mill IloDISM AM) Tin: MATK CIILRCII. 313 who iia\'c seen Irish cabins know well what fare these bra\e men fouml. Ireland has had, is ha\in^', trouble enouL;h. What would ha\e been its slate- to-da\- had it ne\er had Mc(,)uiL'!j's Bible and ()usele\''s ajiostleshi])? Thereafter came the "Irish Society" for which these opened the wa\'. ICx'en Papists widel\- ownetl the benefit of their \'ernacular Scrij-ture ; "the want of them, in their nativ'-o lant^uai^e, has been to them and their forefathers, for a lom^r period, the t^reatest ex'il." In the Kin;4's Court district, of i'wc counties, it was found that fort\' thousand persons were bein;^ Lau,i;ht to read the Scriptures, and more than double that number were hearintr them in their cabins. J^ ■ i' '.n , '*'*' - . ■f ■ ■''''' ,' 'j': :' '■''*' ■ •.♦'•« .', ■^ ' ' 1 ' V.I'' ■• : « •'t •■'ji NEW METHODIST COLLEGE, DUBLIN, IRELAND. Then emi » ..•t- ,'t J mm'' mm. 314 Till-; SIORV OK MKlIloDISM. American Irislitncn jiistl\- contribute. It had, in 18.S6, twinty- four thousand six hundred and forty-four nuinbers, and the Conference has one huiuh'ed and twenty-one ministers and one hundred and twenty la)'men. Ouseley died in the centenary year of M<'tho(hsm, i1' Mi;i lloDl^M, Once more Wcslcyaiiism had to ap]icar in court. An insti- tute was buill tor theological instruction. It is a iiobK- one, at Kichniond. near London. Sanuu'I Warren, an able but restless man, had heartil\- approxed of the institute, oni\ he [jreferred the name "colleL;e." When In- w.is not nuule an officer of it, liis whole views changed. lie attackeil it violent!)', and e\en organ- ized out of available malcontents a "(irantl Central Association" to oppose the whole Methodist polit)-. hor his violence, he was RICHMOND ■I'HECJLOGICAT, lN.STrrUTI(».\', LOM ON, (near the Thames River.) suspended by the Manchester District Conference and Newton took his office. He then applied for an injunction in Chancery acjainst Newton and the trustees of the chapel from which he had been excluded. This involved the very existence of Wesleyan- ism. If it could not control its preachers and properties, it was ruined. I'^or three da)'s the case was arc^ued bt^fore the Vice- chancellor Shadwell. His Honor refused the injunction and spoke very warmly of the benefit of Methodism to En^dand. Appeal MKIIIDDISM AM) llli: >lAir, ( Illkt II, 317 \\ as taken to Lyiulluiist. Lord Hi;;!! Chancellor. Tlu- anxictv of all the Connection and of inaiu' be\'()iul it was inte use After four ila\-s of arL;unient anti two of C(Misidcration, his Lordshij) affirmed in an elaborate jud-jjnient the decision of his vicc-clian- ccllur, antl so the chapel, institutions and rules t)f Methodism mmm .■"■■:::";':'/::^-'^''^i"-M:f^'->ivi-: "■ ^r-.-' .r-'V'v v^.^^^'"' v ^,« ■'^' ."...,■.-■. -^ ' v-^-' vfn/ ■'■■J- - . ;;: >V ^^T^^ '-'^^ '^ f^^V^fe ■Uv,.. A-i-ca i^'JU. j.tias** iSAiMUKL WA,".K1;,N. were settled on the rock of English law, to be no more shaken. This was in 1835. The solicitor in Chancery for the Methodists was a son of Buntin' by admission of laymen to its Conference and by haviny^ each circuit independent witliin itself. The T'.-formers just nametl. the last secession from W'esle}-- anisnv nent out in 1S49. Six members of the Conference were held to be intrii^ryini; ai;ainst the Conference and the appearance of "I'M)- Sheets," anonymously attackini^ eminent Wesleyans, the authorship of which the said six would neither admit nor disclaim, agi^ravated the temper of the Conference. The men were not brought to trial, but three were peremptorily expelled and three reprimanded. A hundred thousand left the Connection within two )'ears with these men, some of whom returned. One result of this serious trouble was that a full, clear expo- sition of Wcslcyan Rules and Usages was published and tne read- ing of it earnestly urged, so that the system might be clearly and widely known. Provision was also made for uniting laymen with ministers in all temporal affairs, and the members were encour- aged to present to the Conference, with the utmost freedom, petitions for change of anything but the Articles ot Faith and the • Itinerant System. In 1828, William Capers, afterwards Bishop, was the Ameri- can visitor, and, in 1836, Wilbur Fisk. At Task's \isit, some trouble was raised from his representing a church containing sla\e-holders. He explained how the Gospel went to the slave and his master, and all were satisfied. He urged the laving of the hands of the elders on the head of the candidate in ordination, and his advice has ever since been followed. ■/f i ' \ i i ■ ! ' , ■■ ?f '"' 'Xi' CHAPTER XXV. Weslevaxism Abroad. ^\ .■■'■.'■,' ^' ''.■'*•. ■■■>•»:.,■ J. ■ •■■>■:*: OT yet do wc tell the Story of Methodism in America. That is to go by itself. We trace the revival in iMiglish colonies and in heathen lands. We noted Wesley's cP-^^^^ / 21 M 'F^S^M^^W^ / UW ^''^^ African convert, and ^^W// ^^/I^^^^^BmMW' how, on the reco\-er)' of her Y^\l ^^^^^^^^^^P^r master's health, she returned with him to Antis^ua, where both were active in rtliy^ious labors. In 1792, the year after Wesley's death, Coke, sailing for the fifth time to America, took, though others were already there, Daniel Graham, as the first missionary to the West Indies. Stopping at the Dutch island of St, luistatius, he found some classes meeting secretly, but fiercely persecuted, while mission- aries and pra)X'r-meel-ings were prohibited. . t Dominica, he found a hundred and fifty sheep having no ;,h. iherd. At St. Vincent's, Lumb, a preacher who had independently made his \vay there, was in jail, though preaching to weeping negroes th''ough his grated window. Fine and imprisonment were im- IK/Scd for the first preaching, flogging or banishment for the sec- ond, and death for the third; yet, under Lumb's labors, "a thousand slaves were stretching out their hands unto God." ' . .tilS ;,i i ;• nil I *mam mh f,t fim "t?,?! t- \' 1 li'fl'l f ■ •N* tli tin he wa; : * I ^■■'' WESLEVAMSM ABROAD. 32 I Coke was surprised to find so many negroes converted, and he obtained the Kin<;'s "Order in Council," annulling the sa\-age law at St. Vincent's, but not till after five hundred had been lost b\- persecution. In five >'ears there were twenty-two missionaries on the Islands, and all the British, settlements and some others were visited. The converted negroes bore all the fruits of right- eousness. The missionaries, from the climate and pestilence, were short-lived, but others took their places and the societies grew rapidly. In the French invasions of the islands, the blacks were safely armed for defence and their petty officers were taken from 6^: KINGSrOWN, ST. VINCENT'S tlie Methodist negroes. The government, grateful, offered Coke free p.'ssage to Bermuda and Jamaica for all outgoing missionaries. I hen came fiery trials. The Jamaica Legislature fixed the penaU}' v)i imprisonment for preaching by any but ministers of the i'Lnglish or Scotch Churches. Stephenson, a missionar\- just hef,inning n'ork most hopefully, was imprisoned until his health was ruined. The King annulled the law, but, seven >'ears later, a law was made forbidding any " Methodist missionary, or other ectary," to instruct slaves, or admit them to an\' meetings. This, •00, th'." King canceled, but for ten years persecution raged and c liapelb were closed. 21 'l. ^VN'?' .«,•' ■'Ill t ti ■ !;■: -1 T -> THK STORV OF METHODISM. In 1 815, the irrc[)rcssiblc laborers were in full tide of success, and converts \\ere trained, a thousand a year. The heathen ncfjroes, counted incapable of civilization, were often marvels of transformation. The\' had clun^ to the saxagc usages of Africa and had taken not a few vices from the whites, so that they were worse degraded than when running in Guinea. Thousands were now cleaned of superstition, polygam}' and theft, and sat under the preaching clothed and in their right minds. In 18 18, "they all spent the holida}'s, in a rational manner, in the worship of God." The)' had formerly had orgies almost diabolical. In islands of other nations the missions met the old fight of persecution, but at length they got footing. The first class in South America was at Demarara, being formed by laymen. These good men had seventy members when the first missionary came. He soon had a chapel and a society of three hundred and se\'' enty. Then fell the un- failing storm, which might go v/ithout the saying. ■ The chapel was wrecked ^■■■%^''^^^^ >■**' ■' ^. ''■' and the whole colony m 2*^ i ^jij} I ' IK*; lii \\im i-t \VKSI,i:V.\\l«>M AliKoAD. 331 The Wcslcyaii Mission in South Africa bo^'an r(»mantically -J I— I < > U3 U A chief, f;i ..««^. ..3!«^ --^ *t* ■» me3- ----*- » ciuet, tar up 111 the ulterior, Kariud, sonuhow , of the "(Ireat Word," and started to Cape Tow n — five huiuh-ed miles — to liud it and a teacher. Shaw, just come as missionar\-, was not allowed tt) preach at the Cape. His wife su.i^Ljested that they pjo to find natives beyond the limits of the colon}-. The o.x-wat^ons met. as ships meet on the sea, on the eveninij of Shaw's twenty-seventh day. A half-hour's difference with either would have prevented their meeting;. I'he chief wept aloud for joy. Ho hastened back with the ^ood news, and the Namqauas received Shaw joxfully. Here he built a house and chap- el, planted a field, worked, taught and preached. In a m o n t h , he heard at nii,dit a native pra\-ing alone ! Soon he baptized seven- teen, blessed a Christian mar- riage, Celebrated the Lord's Sup- per, made a plow and used it, rais- ing a crop of fifty fold. Edwards, another missionary, came. A band of converts went, with joy and song, by night, to call on every family to pray and give thanks over the arrival. In the region where Shaw, in 1820, planted at Salem the Gospel — his wife, from her own for- tune, paying all expenses — arc now about ninety ministers, with fourteen thousand members and as many scholars. Of the min- isters many are native. All things belonging to religion and civ- ilization flourish there, and the wilderness blooms in gladness and beauty. Of VVesleyanism in the island world of the Pacific our Story must be but an outline. In these islands, dreamers used to place HOR^ >N WESLEYAN COLLEGE, TASMANIA. ■■:> ki» mJ '"''^■'' ! ii, 'V I, ^fSJii; ^ mm r i 1 ?•■ 332 THE STORV OF METHODISM. the "Paul and Virt^inia" dreams of natural innocence. They were, in fact, the abode of such horrors as v.-ere rife in Ashantee, and had cannibaHsm besides. In 18 15, Methodism began in New South Wales, though a class was formed of emigrants three years earlier. An educated young Irishman, in prison for forgery, and awaiting doom, was converted in his cell through Methodist labors. His sentence was changed to transportation. He began, in the land of his exile, to read prayers and expound Scripture, and became, with the brand of hir. crime upon him, the first Methodist preacher in Australia. There is now in Australia a separate Conference. It has over forty thousand members, served by two hundred and fifty CHRISTIAN SAMOANS REFUSING TO FIGHT. preachers and sixty native helpers. It has three colleges and a large supply of lower schools. In Nevv' Zealand, the Wesleyan missionaries had sore baffling. At length, in 1834, the good work began. Some came forty miles to meeting. Famous warriors, grown old in fighting and feasting on their fallen foes, came to sit at Jesus' feet, and calls for mission- aries were heard in every direction. When the work began there was not a book in the Maori language. The missionaries mas- tered it and gave it a religious literature, and all the good things of the Kingdom of Christ grew so fast that the reaper overtook the sower. Men who had seen the island in its grossest barbarism lived to see, among the Wesleyans alone, two hundred and fifty WESLEVANISiM ABROAD. 333 chapels and places for preaching, and nearly four hundred preachers of all degrees. Ten or twelve thousand attend worship. At Aucklanrl is a Methodist college, and there are a hundred day schools. Three-fourths of the native adults can read and two-thirds can write. tr. > i r ft m M H I The last cannibal act was in 1842, when one Taraia caught some people coming from church and cooked them in his oven. The old chief still (or lately) is pointed at with loatuing as the last cannibal. In some of the islands wonderful things occurred. Paganism 'Hi ■ i:Tn 334 THE STORY OF METHODISM. went clown all at once. People cast awaj- their iaols and went hundreds of miles to find a missionary. At V'avau, Habai and the Tongas, in 1834, came such an awakening as is ^arely recorded. Hundreds of men, women and children were often at once in deep conviction, weeping and crying for mercy. Ordinary employ- ment ceased. All the islands were graciously visited. In one day, at Vavau, a thousand were converted, not merely from idols, but from Satan. "The Lord has bowed the v.hole island to his sway,"' wrote the missionary. " We went to the house of prayer at da}'light. A thousand bowed, weeping at the feet of Jesus. The greatest chiefs and the meanest men, old and young, men and women, were there and the Lord heard their cry " George, King of Habai, and Charlotte, his Queen, were foremost in the jrk. He became class icader and local preacher, the only Royal Preacher of modern times, nor did he fail to give good proof of his ministry. He is of majestic bear- ing and has full kingly qualities. He freed his slaves, with an affecting speech upon the change now wrought in himself, in them and in his Kingdom. All wept, as did his queen and he, and two begged to live and die in his service. He gave the Mission the finest building ever built in the islands for a church. Its altar rails were from the spears of his ancestors, and the pulpit stairs rested on sacred clubs of old. Himself, at the dedication, preached to thousands of his people. Commander Wilkes, of the U. S. Navy, bore witness to the good state of things under King George. "I could not but admire him." He gave his people a code of law^, bimple, but equal in fitness to any modern legislation. And now on his islands came all the blessings that attend upon the faith, and they came to stay. King George won the respect of nations. Sir Edward Howe, commanding an English <^^y^ FIKST MISSION HOUSE AT TONGA, FIJI ISLANDS. WESLEY AXISM ABROAD. 335 man-of-war, saw him pardon some Ton^^i chiefs who had rebelled. These expected death. Geor ■/) :W T is difficult for some people to admit what Christianity has done for education. Oth- ers, in an ungrateful temper, seem anxious to separate the two, an effort as unnatural as that of parting a mother from her child. The struggle is against the fixed order of things, and it is not wise to struggle like Bert, Minister of Instruction in France, to put asunder what God has joined together. In England, when Wesley began to preach, there were few and small facilities for general education. "The common mind " ran on unformed. There were six endowed schools. That in Winchester, where, a thousand years ago, Alfred, its founder, would listen to the class exercises, was the oldest. Another was the Charter- house, where John Wesley attended. These schools were accessi- ble only to the better classes. Wesley felt the pressing need of general education, but he wisely attempted only what he could actually do. At Kingswood, he opened a school for the sons of his itiner- ants. We saw Whitefield laying, at Kingswood^ the corner-stone of that first school, and kneeling to pray that the gates of hell might not prevail against it. The ceremony was, to the thousands of poor people who looked on, the date of rising intellectual ■mm ■:i^-^l '(■■ sr 1 i r^ 'IjH '■■',.!('■ 340 THE STORY OF METHODISM. desires. No address on the Benefits of Education could have touched them like that object picture. The enterprise came into Wesley's hands, and the income of his Fellowship at Oxford, which he was expected to spend in " learned leisure," he devoted to the instruction of others, a use of it which would have rejoiced the heart of William, Bishop of Lincoln, who, three hundred years earlier, had founded the Fellowship. The Methodist Peeress in Scotland, Lady Maxwell, <^ener- ously aided the enterprise. The school seems to have opened with twenty-eight pupils, who were under stern training, for, though Wesley had a soul of love for the young, he was prone to TRINITY HALL, SOUTHPORT, ENGLAND. judge them by himself, who had no need of play. Soon the school could not receive its growing numbers. The original school was removed to a site near Bath. In this school, about three hundred sons of the preachers and missionaries are in pro- cess of education. Two colleges are for preachers' daughters ; one, called Trinity Hall, at Southport, the other at Queenswood, Clapham, London. Of the Orphan House at Newcastle — now a Day School and Girls' Industrial School — and of the London Foundry School, enough has already been said. There are to- day two flourishing colleges, one at Sheffield and one at Taunton. The London University, erected in 1836. which differs from WESLEVAN EDUCATIONAL WORK. 341 Oxford and Cambridge mainly in that its colleges are located in various parts of the Kingdom, and even in the colonies, recog- nizes these Wesleyan colleges and confers their degrees. Ciradually grew a system of day schools, the need of which will be understood if we remember that until Mr. Foster's Hill, of 1870, there was no system of public education in l-lnghuul. I-'ive yf^ars later, there were still " Dissenting' schools to the number of two thousand and eighty-six, of which the W'esleyans had over seven hundred, none of which existed when Wesley be- gan his work. These day schools, which are now aided by government m m i m WESLEY COLLEGE, SHEFFIELD, ENGLAND. grants, made necessary a training school for the supplying of Teachers. The Wesleyan Normal School, at Westminster, was built at a cost of two hundred thousand dollars. Its attendance is nearly two hundred and its pupils have every facility that a choice home in the suburbs of London can give. A new college for female teachers has been opened at Southland, Battersea. Of theological institutions the Wesleyans have four. The list of their various schools is far too long for this story, it is ample and honorable. They are not a whit behind the very chiefest educators. Wesleyans in Ireland opened a college in Belfast in t868, 1' H 11-., ■ / '* ■- .1 ' ■ '- ' ill if. mm 342 THE STDKV OF METHODISM. I. -I J '..•■ : " , and tliey have their full share, not any too large, of special charitable schools. They have another college in Dublin. In every part of the world where W'esleyans have gone as missionaries they have soon planted schools. It may now be said that their schools, like their national flag, " following the sun and accomi)anying the hours," have a "morning drum beat" around the entire circle of the globe. To the educational work of luiglish Methodism must be added its periodical literature. It has three weekly journals, one Review, and smaller publications almost in- numerable. From all these causes it has come that its rolls have now long contained the names of eminent men. It has seldom been without representation in Parliament. In 1887 it furnished a Lord Mayor of London from its Irish contingent. In 1839, the first century of Wcslcyan- ism expired. It was properly thought that --„ ^ ,, a wide and grateful JAMES H. RIGG, D.D., '^ Principal of Wesleyan Normal School, Westminster, England. nOticC should bc takeil of such an epoch. It will be recalled that, early in 1739, White- field and others had their marvelous experience in Fetter Lane when some fell to the floor and all felt the power of God. They sanfT the Te Ueum loud and clear, and were sure that the Lord was about to do great things among them. Then he broke the ice by his first open-air sermon to the weeping colliers at Kings- wood, and, calling Wesley to do the same, he passed on in his wonderful career. That same year, Wesley, in Bristol, laid the corner-stone of his first chapel and issued a volume of those hymns whose singing has now encircled the earth. To bring to WESLEVAN EDUCATIONAL WORK. 343 grateful remembrance such a year was a pious and joyous duty. In the end of 1S38, preparatory meetings were heUl t;, fix on plans for the double jubilee, and it was determined to celebrate it by casting gifts and offerings into the treasury of the Lord. A widow, wealthier than the one whom the Saviour praised, but of like temper, opened the work with a thousand guineas, and in ■■■!';'!'' :^!il ki U.u:); . ■ ■ ■ > J m .1 344 THE STORY OF METHODISM. oiu- (lay at CiU' Road Cliapcl two thousand pounds were driven. From John O'Ciroat's to Lands Vau\ all were Ljivini,'. A committee had fixed eij^htx' thousand pounds to be raised for the ^reat interests of the Connection, while the ordinarj- expenditures were still to be sustained. Ireland i^iwc of its sad, chronic poverty ; the I'orei^ii Missions claimed the riL,dn to send back from their scant}- resources, and the eighty thousantl pounds became two hundred and sixteen thousantl — one million and eip^hty thousand dollars, called the Centenary Fund. That year sixteen thousand were added to the church and one hundred and ei^dUeen to the ministr)'. "Is the Lord among us or not?" had good repl)'. Could Wesley a n d Whitefield have looked down upon the Eng- land of their love and labor, they would have repeated the words which they so often spoke in their life- time: "What hath God wrought." No Protestant body had ever seen such an occasion, and all such bodies shared its gladness. It had created the Evangelical party of the FIstablished Church; it had saved the non-Episcopal societies of England and even of America. In Wales, it had found, in 1739, thirty feeble Dissenter^ 'nd had quickened them to over twenty-three hundred, ai id created there Calvinistic Methodism, with a chapel to ever; iree square miles of territory. Its effect on the national character can hardly be estimated. Buckle, in his History of Civilization, marks " an immense change among the people," beginning soon after Wesley began his labors. Indeed, let the reverse now F. J. JOBSON, D. i>. M ':v WKSLKVAN KIILCATIOVAI, WORK. 345 hapi)cn. Take from the ICii^l..li world what is truly traceable directly to "The Great Revival" and thj joy and strength of the land would be ^one. Wesley bc^sin with a rrroup equal to the fingers of his hand. He died at the head of fi\e luuulred and fifty traveling preachers and one hundred and forty thousand niembers. (We here, for the first time, include those of the United States.) At the Cen- tenary these figures had increased about tenfold. At the end of still another generation, i8S6, there were nine hundred and thirty-one thousand four hundred and fifty Methodists in Great Britain and Ireland, and four million in the world. The statistics of to-day will be given in another place. Having thus set forth the Story of Methodism in the land of its origin we pro- pose to tell of its career in our own country, one nearer and not less enter- taining. In 1863 the Jubi- lee of the Foreign Missionary Society ^^^- william morlev punchon, ll. d. was celebrated, when about five hundred thousand dollars were given to extend Methodism in foreign lands. In 1878 laymen were first admitted into the Conference during one third of its sessions and the change was made with not a ripple in the harmony of the society. A Thank Offering Fund was commenced to testify the joy of all concerned. That fund totaling nine hundred and fifty-five thousand dollars was appropriated to the removal of obligations then existing on all the leading agencies of Methodism. .' ■.. Ii ' F.'-P WWMW^pJMpyWiWpjIIPI ■PMWB -Ml . -^r% f 'I l«!'i Vj:. I ii ij S t 11 ' WB »{ ^fl gjn Wj wS -t^ 0|i wf^ |ra|g|,^ ^'tj; Vnf «!9^ •V ''^ ' II III STATUE OF JOHN WESLEY. I'" ^^ti ■S h, THE STORY IN AMERICA, . I ■':'■;; ■1.^ rtii Ht ,.H '?K! ..Hit-:*! :Mc H 1 IHrU 't 1^ n i j I 1 i ! J 4i' It III ;'*■■■''■ - FRANCIS ASnURV. SeconH'Piishop of the Methodist Kpiscopal Church. (From the' Engraving by A. H. Ritchie.) »?.!,*! iiii^'ii:- CHAPTER XXVII. ■m First Things. Y his revocation of the Edict of Nantes (granting to the Protestants fair freedom) Henry IV, that wretched King of F"rance, drove from his land half a million of its best people. He now in like folly scat- tered his German subjects on the Rhine. Of these fugitives from their burning homes, about one hundred and ten families reached Ireland and settled on the estates of Lord Southwell, near Limerick. Of one of these families, in 1728, Philip Embury was born. Though on Irish loil, his early instruction was in German by Gier, the school-master of Ballinga- rane. On Ciiristmas day of his twenty-fifth year he writes: "The Lord shone into my soul by a glimpse of his redeeming love." This year, he for the first time saw Wesley. Embur\' became class-leader and local preacher, and sup[ilied on his circuit the lack of itinerant service. He was quiet, diffident and melancholy. In the spring of 1760. ICmbur)*, at the head of a small party of emigrants, left Limerick for New York. His parting words were in sermon and prayer for those who had come from Ballingarane, sixteen miles away, to see the company start. The ship reached New York, Aug. 10, 1760. It had ■ U '■ J ' M ,■(■ ■■r\' 'Wl\)^ .%' 350 THE STURV OF ML TIK )DISM. •;* III-' if ii'' 5f {!■»•'■ •■"•■•.■'■« ' Iff ■.i'; ■i brought Philip Embury and Barbara Heck, his cousin. Embury was an active man and a skillful carpenter. He does not appear as preacher until 1766. Some of their company were Methodists, but became cold and worldly by mii^ration. Others came over, and on these, one of whom was her brother, Mrs. Heck was often callin<;-. One day she found them playing cards. With majestic enertj^y, she threw their cards into the fire, and earnestly set before them their duty and their error. She then hurried to Embury's house in Park place, and, reporting the case, urged him at once to utter the Word ear- nestly to save their o w n kindred. She would have him preach in his own house and without delay. She gathered four persons who, with herself, were the first Methodist con- gregation in America. These five were framed into a class and met at his h o u s e weekly. Thus Barbara Heck was distinctively the first An!erican Metho- dist, and Heck Hall, of the Garrett l^iblical In- stitute, after more than a hundred }'ears, was made her monument. Soon there were two classes of seven each. Three regi- mental musicians became exhorters and Methodist singing drew man\- to the meetings. iMiibury was in\'ited to preach at the almslu)use, where the superintendent and several inmates were converted ; and thus, in the infancy of our American Methodism, " the common people heard gladly" and " the poor had the Gospel preached unto them." Soon a rigging-loft u' Williams street — a room sixty feet by eighteen — was rented for th'^ preaching. PHILIP EMBURY. FIRST THINGS. 351 Now Captain Webb suddenly appeared. He was in uniform, with sword and belt ; and who could say that he had not come to order halt and dispersion? He devoutly shared their exercises. He was a soldier of Christ, a preacher licensed by Wesley. He had come with his company to America, losing on his route his right eye at the siege of Louisburg, 'ind having also his right arm wounded with Wolfe at Quebec. He had become a Methodist at Bristol in 1765. At Bath, he had preached extempore to a con- gregation disappointed of its preacher. Thereafter he was an effective helper by his money, his preaching, and whatever his hands found to do. In Bath and Winchester, later in the Channel Islands, and now in America, he was effective in discourse and full of wisdom and energy in management. John Adams calls him "the old soldier — one of the most eloquent men I ever heard." " They saw the warrior in his face and heard the missionary in his voice." He was now barrack- master at Albany, when he had held services in his own house. Hearing of Embury's work, he came to help it on. The loft became too growmg congre- gation HARHARA HECK, small for the Mrs. Heck rose up like a prophetess, and as sIk. called out the first Methodist sermon in America, so she planned the first chapel. It was built on John street. Its third generation, after a hundred and eighteen years, is now there. Captain Webb, who was now retired from the army with fi'li rank and pay, gave thirty pounds, lent three hundred pounds without interest, and went out to beg for the enterprise. Two hundred and fifty names of subscribers are st',11 preserved, among which African maids — Dinahs and j' .*;.■. ; }• i;t^ m ! •■■> . ■ '''.it • iV '1; 1! m ■ i'Y f^' If :3p 352 THE STURV OK METHODISM. Chloes — are in honor with Livingstones and Delanceys, tne "blue blood" of the time. The building had a fire-place and chimney (churches were not then warmed) to a'oid the law that forbade Dissenting "churches" to be built in the city. It was of stone, forty-two feet by sixty. Embury made its pulpit and, Oct. 30, 1768, stood in it to preach the dedicatory sermon. It was the first "Wesley Chapel" named in the world. ICmbury was its first trustee, OLD R1(;(;LNG-L0FT, 120 WII.LIAM STRF.KT, new YORK CITY. treasurer, class leader and preacher. New York had then twenty thousand people. Of these at least a thousand crowded the house and the space in front of it. The church is kept in the wilderness of trade that has come up around it, and is the true monument of Embury, and, one may say, of Barbara Heck and of Thomas- Webb. The brave captain carried Methodism to Philadelphia. He formed a class of seven in a sail-loft where he preached from 1768 to 1769. In 1770, he urged and aided the ^■m FIRST rillNGS. 353 phaticaily its old john strkkt parsonage, new yokk. f () U n d C r. He Residence of Philip Embury. had position, means and energies, which served the young cause in the very nick of time. What were those first meetings in "Wesley Chapel," John '^^-r--^ *» ""v^^— -35^ street ? Embury ^^r^::^;;^l_ti::; - P^ p reached th ree times a week. The seats had no backs, the galler- ies had no breast- work and \\ere reached bx- a ladder. Some one set the tune and t h e rest joined in. There w as neither vestry nor class room. From that ancestor were DLD "WESLEY CHAPEL," JOHN STREET, NEW YORK. 23 !•''' ■'«'-W ;■■-■' --si ,' ■■ m .' . *y4- ■ 'ip ■: .)!fc •nn) ~ .ii;' ' i .■•i ■'I \\ ■ '■\ .!»>i '«■ '.1' ' V; 1' r A 1 » ; ,' ST. PAUL'S METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH, NEW YORK CITY. '•^H U m ■ ' IIRST THINGS. vKi:) "developed" the M. V.. churches of Fourth avenue and Mailison square. A small parsonage was built in 177:, and furnished with thinL,^s given or lent by the people. I':nibur)''s labors were gratis, sa\'e now and then a small "donation." On the coming of Pilmoor and Boardman, \Vesle)-'s first preachers, I'Lmbury removed to Camden in the northeast of the state. He there formed the first class within the bounds of the present Troy Conference. Dying suddenly from an injur\-, in 1775, his greive is at Ashgrove, and its wordy epitaph suggests his virtues. Mrs. Heck soon removed with her family to l^ay Quinte, Canada, where her descendants arc still found. R o b e r t Straw- bridge was ever}' inch an Irishman, and not like lunbury, a (icr- man, who took Ireland by the wa)', generous, fiery, rebellious and improvident. He came from i\rmagh to Fred- erick count)', Mar)- land, had preaching at his house, formed a societ)' and built the "Log Meeting-house" on Sam's creek near CAPTAIN THOMAS WEBB, b\'. Tile cdificc had holes sawed out for door and windows, but the holes remained such. He began '\\\ zeal and self-sacrifice to go out preaching and was reaching large throngs in the backwoods. In his absence his neighbors cared for his little farm. His little societ}' at home produced five early itinerants. The first native American preacher, the first-born of so many faithful men, Richard Owen, was converted near Baltimore, and he proved a kindred spirit with Strawbridge, whom he aided and unitated and whom, in 178 1, he followed with sorrow to his grave and preached his funeral sermon within sight of Baltimore, ■ « , ■'■'1*1 1 35(3 TIIE sroKV OF METHODISM. f mkm t: . bill! '■■'''«'! 'i the city to which he had been an apostle of Methodism. When tlie war broke up the ser\'ices of the regular clergy, Strawbridge administered the sacraments independently, and would not heed Asbury's counsel. For this his name seems to have been dropped from the list of preachers. Asbury could not endure insubordi- nation. The little society in New York glowed with zeal. In 1768, they wrote to Wesley for "an able experienced preacher." For his passage money, "wc will sell our coats and shirts to procure it." From their center, which they already felt to be metropolitan and even continental, " such a flame should soon be kindled as would never stop until it reached the great South Sea." Methodists in Eng- land were in equal ardor of hope. " I make no doubt," wrote Pcrronct to Wesley, "that Methodism is designed to introduce the millennium." Two men, Williams and Ashton, could not wait for the regular routine. Wesley gave Williams authority to KOHKKT STRAwnRiuGE. j^^.j^^ ^j^^ missionaries soon to be sent ; Ashton paid Williams' expenses, for he was poor, and they reached New York, in 1769, in advance of the missionaries. Ashton, an Irishman, (how these fiery Celts broke the way in so many places!) gave Embury valuable aid and spent his later years in Camden, where I'.mbury had died. He left a fund for an annuity "to the end of time" to the oldest unmarried member of the New York Conference, which still provokes an annual smile. Williams was the apostle of Methodism in Virginia. He preached, in 1772, from the court-house steps, in Norfolk, so FlkSl THINGS. 357 )lainl' that none invited him home — and that in \'ir)'at;e was rouL,di and the)' were nine weeks in reaching'; Philadelphia. 'I he ^ood W ran<.^le had written his two converts to welcome them. Pilmoor found Captain Webb and a hundred Methodists in the cit)', and at his first sermon fi\'e thousand hearers on the race- course were "still as niL,dU." Whitefield, now on his way to die, at Xewburyport, ^ave these men his blessini^, and they entered upon a work which his won- derful labors had done much to prepare. Jioardman hastened to New York, ])reachin^' at Trenton on the wa) . lie wrote to \\'esle\' : "Our house contains about seven hundred. A third of those at- tending t;et in ; the rest arc ,L,dad to lua u ithout. Such a wil- linsjjness to hear the Word I nex-er saw bei.)re." Giving four ser- mons a week and ample other labor, he received his board, and fifteen dollars a quarter for clothini;. John Mann, one of his first coinerts. afterwards preached at John Street tlurinij the war. and then had a loni; niinistr\- in Nova Scotia. Boardman was four years in New York, excluuv^inff often with Pilmoor and making excursions for preaching. In one of these he reaclu-d Boston, where he formed a society in 1772, seventeen \-ears before Lee's sermon on the Common. RlCHAKLt liUARl).\l.-V.N. Kay. Ik-y : :ains llrctl. at- wil- scr- and first and four i.:.v^ .ton, ..oc's REGULAR WORK HECJLX, 363 Pilmoor found in Philadelphia an effectual door, and amid tender and tearful thou<^lits of iMi^land he declares, "Our coniini; has not been in vain. The Lord is pleased to advance His Kini^- doni. If two of our brethren would conie over it would be a great blessini;, and we shall gladly prox'ide for them." He was in his excursions preaching to the I'^rench refugees at New Kochelle. A Mrs. Deveau had, in an illness, dreamed of being lost in a tangled wiU'erness. Faint and despairing, she saw a stranger coming with a light, and he led ler out safely. At th'' Deveau house, Pilmoor found a little company, but a clergyman present forbade his preaching. From her sick-bed, Mrs. Deveau caught a glimpse of Pilmoor's face. It was that of -^^ the stranger 1 n h e r dream ! She begged him to preach, and found peace under the sermon. The \illage was moved, and lure was formed the third societv in the State, following John Street anil .Vshgroxe. It was one of Asbur\'s pleas- ant was'side homes (he hatl no other), and from it came the Disoswa}'s and other worth)' Methodists. Pilmoor went south as far as (xeorgia, tasting perils of tra\el and \iolence of mobs, but alwa}'s cheered with success. In I 77 I , Wesley again asked for volunteers in the American work. Five offered ; two were chosen, l"'rancis .\sbury and Rich- .u-d Wright. Of Asbury, our Story will long be telling. He was the only child, after the death of a sister, in the house of a comfortable farmer in Staffordshire. JOSKPH riLMOOR. m % THE STOKV OF METHODISM. The lad, at seven, was piou'-ly iiiclined, and read with pleas- ure "the hisL'ir'cal parts" of the Bible. Affected by the conver- sation and prayers of a pious man, the boy at fourteen was prayer- ful and ^n-ace was stirring within him. He heard preaching at the residence of Lord Dartmouth, whose seat was in that neigh- borhood. Not far away was that VVednesbuiy, where we saw the Wesleys and the Methodists for a week at the mercy of a mob. Their houses were wrecked and pillaged; themselves, men and women, knocked down and maltreated, and Wesley's life put in peril. Asbury asked his mother, "Who and what are these Meth- odists?" She sent him to Wcdnesbury to see for himself. He found them such as his soul longed f o r — the ideal of Christian peo- ple. Their devout kneel- ing, their saying Amen, their preaching and pray- ing "without a book," t h e i r h e a r t )• s i n g i n g, seemed to him so beauti- ful, and his heart said: "This peo[)le shall be my people !" He grieved that his convictions were not deep and violent, but KRANCIS ASnURV, AT THE AGE OF TWENTY-SIX. h C fo U U d p C ac e while (From the portrait recovered by Dr, Roberts.) n r a V i n <'" ill his f'ltlier's barn. Me quietl)' began public labors and was soon a local preacher, and at eighteen was preaching as many as five limes a week, besides work at his calling. At twenty-one he began to itinerate, ami after five )'ears of hard scr\'ice was named for /Xmerica. A classical student might safel)' call Asbury a modern, a Methodist Hannibal. He was severe and self-denying, never surprised, afraid or discouraged. Physical toil and hardship had no terror for him. He was always on the move ; he read men ,, been bought, in 1770, i\ fur the Methodists. This ^J " old cathedral," for fifty years the Methodist church in iVmerica, stands venerable with sacred as- sociations, among more than three-score and ten that ha\'c risen uj) around it. No branch n f the Church in the Quaker City has grown lilcc the Methodists, to whom now belong more than a sixth of its houses of worship. Wright went to ^Maryland, and among his warm helpers were HOMK OF ASIUKN'S YOUTH. (From a photograph.) *!i!Pli, m w '• .1 ^' I 366 THE STURY UK METHODISM. those Bayards, one of whom, in this generation, after succeeding his father in the Uniteti States Senate, is now Secretary of State. iVsbury went north, preaching at Hurh'ngton and resting a few days with Teter Van I'eh, on Staten Ishmd. His heart grew larger. " I beheve God hath sent us to this country." It was no small thing to plant Methodism on the pleasant island, where now, on its little area of some forty square miles, are at least four thriving Churches. X'an Pelt, Wright and Disoswa)-, at whose houses Asbury preached, became firm Methodists. Israel Disos- way was the first class leader, his barn sheltered the first quarterly MANW •> f 11 i Is I mm: ■ .^••ti y .4-' '■'. ■: ■ ' „■ '' "■- Hi '' ; ' ■' •■' It. '■ ' ■ i 368 THE STORY or METHODISM. less of time, numbers, or leadershii). He soon made of an earn- est crowd an eftective army. Two churches compete for priorit\- in lialtimorc. One is on Strawberry Alley, Fells' Point, where a warm Irishman, Captain Patten (Irishman ever at the front!), opened his house for As- bury's first sermon. It afterwards fell to a colored coni^refjation. The other, in Lovely Lane, was later bej^un, but, apparentl)', earlier finished. ^X^.bury laid the first stone in Strawberry Alley in November, 1773, and that of its fair-named consort six months later. Captain Webb preached the first sermon. Thus a dwell- ing place was found for Methotlism in the Monumental City three \-ears later than in Philadelphia and five j-ears later than in New \'ork. Its relative growth was much greater, and Baltimore might almost be called the Meth- odist City. More churches in proportion to its population are there found than in any other American city, and of these about a third are Methodist, being more than twice as many as those of an\' other order. Methodism quickl)- had wide and firm footing in Maryland. Asbury's discipline was like that of a general in the presence of an enemy, but all, from slaves to governors, were glad of his com- ing, heard him with delight and encouraged his work. To-day, the first church, with the finest edifice in America, is the lineal descendant of that chapel in Lovely Lane. "First," it may well be called ! It gave Baltimore its first Sunday school, its first free school ; its first colored church, and its first home for the aged, and it sits in motherly love, with the woman's college by its side, among churches of its own planting. After a Conference, March, 1773, he went northward. His preachers were good men, but were not on his scale. None of them had his order of conquest, or appreciated his stern but salu- tary discipline, so needful in an enemy's country. He loved them, THOMAS RANKIN. w^ "k^- REGULAR WORK HECILN. 369 but he was anxious. Only stout Captain Webb seemed to have a heart for the hour. It looked as if political causes might make the work still more trx'ing. Captain Webb went, in 1772, to ICni^land, and Wesley heard him. "He was all life and fire." lie told his tale of victory in America and called for recruits to stretch a lonj^er line of battle. He asked for Jienson and Hopper, the top of the Conference; he got Rankin and Shadford. Rankin was a Scotchman, antl had seen at Dunbar the Meth- odists of Maine's old regiment in l*'landers. He heard Whitefield in Edinburgh, and was soon passing through those deep spiritual experiences of which our Story has so often told. A lady saw his tears at his conversion and tenderly asked the cause. Me told her they were tears of joy 1 She herself burst into weeping, and his words guided her to h is j oy. Aided by I laine's dragoons, who came to be stationed near E d i n b u r g h, he was soon thinking : " I could lay down my life, if I might be instru- mental in saving one soul from everlasting .,,„,, A BETHEL MEETING AT NIGHT. rum. He had now ten years of itinerancy, had faced mobs and stones, had been trained by Nelson, had become true and tried. Shadford was a man of another style, born Hush of spirits and mischief, and weak of conscience. Me was held to Church usages, to jjrayers, catechism and confirmation. At sixteen, on taking his first sacrament, he began to have deep, spiritual exercises, but he had no guide and made no progress. He became the athlete of liis town, full of life and fire. Then he went soldiering for a year, and heard and deeply felt his first Methodist sermon. On his re- turn he, in much and various struggling, came to Christian peace, and began an active Christian life. His father was converted, hut feared lest his son's words to his customers might ruin the trade of their shop. " Father, let us trust God and do our duty!" hi twelve months they had more business than ever, and his 24 '■'i^'!*' 'A^^ •<*i, ::-i\ '■:%■■ ■?:v,> ",■.. V'' ■ iH ■: ■'U , ' '' '• ■ ■ii i\)- M I 370 Till-: STOKV OK MKIIIODIS.M, father came into pi-rfcct lij^lit. licconiin^ a prcaclicr, he dreamed that he was to preach in a foreign himl Six j'ears hiter his ch'eam came true, and the words remembered hom it, " I'^ear not, for I am with thee," ran^ fresh and timel>' in his ear. It was a ^.^oodl)' com- ])any that sailed from Peel, on Good l*'rida)-, and came to Phila- delphia, June 1 , 1773. Besides the two itinerants, of whom Wesley said, "I turn \'ou loose on the tjreat continent of America," there were Captain and Mrs. Webb, a local preacher and other passen- j.,^ers, and the x'essel, like so many thus furnished, was a floatint^ l^ethcl of prayer and i)raise and blessiuLj. Arriving, Shadford went to New Jersey, Rankin to New York, W^ebb to Albany. They were warmly greeted and instantl}' began to gather sheaves from fields white with harvest. chaiti:r XXIX. First Things and Risinc; Heroes. , .'.-,1 Of this lack of Wcsleyan discipline, Rankin, at the C(^nfcr- rncc, sorely complained. Some thini^s went badly. Certain preachers wished to "abide in the cities and live like ijjentlemen." "Money had been wasted and many of our rules broken." In truth, Wesley was too far away to understand precisely American needs and tempers. After our Revolution, he saw more clearly that submissiveness like that in England could not be had in this country. Thus the preachers were not allowed to admin- ister the sacraments. This drove the people to the English clergy, who were few, often bad livers, rarely devout. Strawbridgc, seeing * ; .:i ■"■■ %^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) k A / 1.0 !ri^ iiiiiM I.I 11.25 22 1^ ^ 1^ 12.0 U 11.6 Photographic Sciences CorjToration 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 872-4503 ,\ qv "% \ m \ \ ,%°w^.. i/.s ^ inn il i..il}- i)ra}-er, to his wife's joy and comfort. The next day, going ten miles to a meeting, he spoke to the preacher and asked baptism for his soul's relief. " Are \-ou a Quaker?" " Nothing but a poor, wretched, condemned sinner! " " Vou are the very man Christ tlied for, or he would not have ■'■■;:■. '-r^ ■' .i' ■'AW ■MtJ Ii if Mi'l- ) ?H ;* I t i ifi ^'^ ^ii I '111 S< .k"1'j s'1 ; ti- ii •/i! :" ■'•'1 376 THE STORY OF METHODISM. awakened )'ou." That night, awaking from bad dreams, he saw by faith the Saviour with outstretching arms, saying: " I died for you ! " He rose, weeping for jo)-, and, " hglit as a bird," he called uj) his family to prayer and then went to tell " what a dear Sav- iour I have found." His words had various effects, and he was reported " raxing mad.' v\ clerg}iiian tried to free him from "these delusions of the devil." "He may be right," thought Abbott, and took it to the Lord in praj'er. " The Lord said to me, ' Why doubt of Christ? Have you not felt his blood applied ? " ' Abbott sprang up, cr}'ing: "Not ail the devils in hell shall make me doubt ! " Clouds and darkness now vanished, and he entered upon his Christian career rejoicing like a strong man to run a race. A strange trial soon met him. He dreamed that the preacher who had brought him to Christ had turned to sin, a fallen, ruined man ; and so it proved. Abraham Whitworth has the sad place of the first apostate of the American Methodist ministry. He had come from ICngland by the same ship with Rankin and Shad- ford, had labored well and brought Abbott into the Kingdom, and then himself became a castaway. He entered the British arm)' and nothing more is said of him. His fall was a distress to Abbott. "What, then, will become of me?" This word came: " Cursed is he that putteth his trust in the arm of flesh." He saw that his own salvation did not depend on another man's standing or falling. Whitworth was expelled, but Abbott, the fruit of his labor, took his place. Under Gatch's preaching, Mrs. Abbott and six children were converted within three months. Abbott's first sermon was at a neighbor's funeral, and it at once appeared what manner of man he was. He \vas half lamb and half lion. He knew the ways of the w^orst men. Out of his own consciousness he knew that something tender, longing and spiritual may lie dormant under the rudest surface, and he was skillful in touching that one lead of possibility. And now Methodism in Isew Jersey had in Abbott its first native itinerant. No man did more for it in the state, and it is comelv that his grave at Salem be visited bv its thousands, who think of his character and his labors. " Sleep on, thou Prince of Dreamers ! " said one at l^unyan's tomb, and the words ma)' be repeated at the grave, in Salem, near a church edifice of the people of his love. ]"IRST TlllXeiS AM) RISINt; HEROES. in Another preacher from Mar} land now appears. " Honest, simple Daniel Ruff," converted at Havre de Grace in 1771, took for his first circuit the state of Delaware and Chester countw He was the first "native pastor" at John Street. His hiijher fortune was that his ministry brought con\ersion and the itineranc)' to Freeborn Garrettson. After the Conference of 1773, Rankin went out to liis work like a giant refreshed with new wine. In Maryland, at the W'at- ter's homestead, he says: " 1 had not seen such a season as this since I left my native land." Boardman and Pilmoor, now about to sail for h^ngland, aided him, and he spent four months alternate!}- in Now York and Philadelphia, ^^J and wide circuits around the cities. Shadford, as was said, alternated in manner corresponding. He was the most self- distrustful of men, "un- worthy to preach the Gospel to a polite and sensible people." Christ alone was magnified in the preaching, and in his first year in this countr}' about two hundred were added to the societies. Asbury went to Baltimore. He found the little society; he was sick with fever and ague, so that his twenty-four appointments on the Baltimore circuit, where he sometimes preached four times in a day, were heavy for him. The forming of new societies was often perplexing work, but his spirit was usually free and jo}'ous. l^csidcs his own, there were in the city a Romish, an Episcopal, a Lutheran and a Quaker Church. Of these, the Fpiscopal, dating from 1744, was the oldest. A new Lutheran Church was now formed, and a devout friend of Asbury, Otterbein, became its pastor. He was a good helper to Asbury, and twent}' years later he founded the United Brethren, who are far more Methodistic JOHN STREET CHURCH, NEW YORK CITY. (As Rebuilt.) f*;* 1 mn. Iplii..'- V'^ J/ 8 TlIK sroRV OF MliTlloDISM. than Lutheran. A son of one of Ottcrbcin's preachers was Henry Boehni, lon^' in our chi)- a survixor of those men who toiled in the forest primeval. Soon we find Asbur\''s circuit divided into four, such had been the <^n"o\vth of the work under liim. his local preachers and exhorters. Five chattels were building, and h.e left at the end of his year, 1774, thirty societies in Marx'land, with ten hundred and sixty- three members, of whom more than half were this year's yainin^s. Maryland was now the center and seed-bed of Methodism. \\ rit-ht had built the first Methodist chapel in V i r l;" i n i a — V e a r <^ o n ' s Chapel — the farthest ad- vance of M e t h o d i s tii southward, and he was planniuL;" another — Lane's Cha[)e! — in Sussex coun- t\'. Williams, laborint^ with Jarratt's hel[) and sympathy, gathered this }'ear in the rei;"ion from Petersburi^h into North Carolina, two hundred and eii;hteen mendjers. amouL;" Wiiom was the Lee famil\-, which j^ave usjesse Lee, the founder of New ]->n' time be helping. Afcer Conference, Asbiiry was sick in New York. No trial could be more trying than weakness now. The people were so anxious to hear, and he so little able to preach, that he could but ask, "If I am the Lord's, why am I thus?" In John Street there was discord -^mong the members, and a serious discontent with discipline. "My soul longs to fly to God, but he that believeth shall not make haste." Soon all came right in the society ; new helpers came from England and Asbury wcntto Philadelphia. In the early spring he went, still feeble, to Baltimore. "Here are all my own with increase," he writes with joy, and he is sure that it is the Divine will that he now be with this people. "The Lord will yet raise up lor himself a large society in Baltimore." Asbury now gave good proof of prudence and foresight, in view of the rising war. Rankin was alarmed. He saw everything with straight, luiglish eyes, and to him ruin to the colonics and disaster to Methodism. Asbury had the vision of Adams and Jefferson. He said nothing, but he saw far and hopefully, and he made all haste to put Methodism in a shape to stand the storm and reach safely the quiet water that he saw in the smiling distance. The providence of God worked with him. The preachers, like the Apostles, found that not many wise, or noble, or wealthy were called by their preaching, but some wxre called. Henry Dorsey Gough, son-in-law of Governor Ridgelcy, was one of the wealthiest men of the colony. His wife had heard preaching with deep concern, but he forbade her hearing a second time. In a gay revel he went with his company to hear Asbury, and under the word came deep conviction. "What nonsense!" said one of the triflers. "No, no! What we have heard is the truth, the truth as it is in Jesus." He assured his wife of his consent to her hearing the Methodists. The world lost all its charm, and he thought of suicide. One evening, as he rode away alone, he heard praise and thanks- giving from a company of his slaves. He was all the more broken in spirit that they should be so much more blest than he. Return- ing, sadly, he retired to a chamber and begged for mercy, and so asked that he received. Coming to his family and a company of guests, he told them joyfully, "I have found the Methodists' t i • 1:1 UP TO TlIK RKVOI.UTION. 381 ' 1 1 blcssinpj; I have found the Methodists' God ! " Henceforth, Perry Hall, his residence, twelve miles from Baltimore, became a resting-- place and a preachinf^-place for itinerants. It was one of the finest in the land, and its inmates, servants and all, were near a hinidred. Gough built a chapel, the first in America that had a bell, and to this his household were morninij and evening calletl for worship. On Sunday there was preaching. What was tpiite as effective was that the mansion had an atmosphere as devout as the seat of Lady Huntingdon or Lord I^artmouth in iMigland. Here came the aristocracy of Baltimore to the elegant hospitality of the Hall ; yet, at the sound of the bell, none could be so rude as not to gather with their host at the chapel. If no other could serve as chaplain, Mrs. Gough herself served, reading, giving her colored people a hymn and then leading in prayer. "Take her altogether, few such have been found on earth." Her only sister and her only daughter were devoted Methodists. Gough, about 1800, had a s';ason of darkness, but n-as restored, and, after great liberality and usefulness, went to his home on high. He was chief of Methodist laymen for many trying and weary years. Rankin records this year his most wondrous sense of the Divine presence since his coming to this country. It was at Wat- ters' at a quarterly meeting. The preachers could not preach. They could only say : "This is the house of God; this is the gate of heaven ! " If one arose to praise or testify, he was over- come and sat down silent. Rankin arose, and, pointing to the negroes who crowded the rear, said : " See how many Africans stretch out their hands to God ! " As he spoke, the house seemed to shake with power and glory, and many were overcome, even to faintncss. For three hours the breath of the Spirit was on the people — a pure, silent, overpowering influence. So the Holy Ghost prepared the souls of men by deep experiences for the times of sifting soon to come under the shock of war. New laborers were rising, but the service was severe. The preacher had to be strong of limb and hardy of frame, as well as warm of heart and clear of brain. The feeble fell out by the wayside ; only those marched on who were uncommonly strong and resolute. They had to remain single ; the circuits were unable to support families, and marriage, unless the preacher had private means, made location necessary. :'i ifi 'if f 3S2 'lilK .Sl()l;V < i| Ml. I II' '|iI>.M. Galch. ill Delaware, saw tr\-inLr times, sucli as our Stor\' has told ill l'jiL;laii(l. lie had to l.iki' llu: phic: of the fallen W'hil- \\-()rth, and to L;aiii the eoiirideiiet' of [\\c public w liich the apostate had hetrax'ed. This sore task was made the sorer 1)\' \ioleiit per- secutioii. riu're was one Kaiii, a cki;4yman, who. when (latch cauK- to j)reaeh within his parish, proposed to crush him; and of this (iatch had wai'uini;. In praxer, datch was reminded of l)a\'id and (joliath. When the hour of ser\ice came, Kaiii was on hand. " I))' what authorit}' do you pnacli?" " \\y the autliorit)' that (iod j^ave me." "Hut wliv in .St. Luke's parish?" "Ilear, anil then judij^e for yourself." Kain stooil at (latch's riijht-hand. The preacher was familiar with tlu' i)ra\er-l)ook, took his text from it and "took it with me throui^h the sernn)n." I'liis con- fused the "Parson." Kain spoke against extempore praj'cr. Gatch sliowetl how Peter, sinkinL,^ tlid not l,^o ashore for a pra\'er- book, but cried out instantl>'. Such discussion pro\'etl unpleasant to the parson and he quieth' fell to the rear. ]^\' toil, hardship, aiul no little i)eril, (latch redeemed the cir- cuit. i\t the end of the half-}'ear he went to h'rederick, where he had experience of cudt;elin_n' in tiie dark, and other ill usai^e but the Word prevailed, and a hundred and sixt\' were added to the .societies. Then a preacher, l^bcrt, in New Jerse\-, followed Whitworth to the bad, and Gatch ^\■ent to repair the damage done by the sec- ond apostacy. Here, too, the wound was healed and fifty souls gathered. In such a disaster he had the gifts needed for relief, he was so persistent, wise and fearless. Abbott was in full movement. .\t Deerfield, a mob was pro- posing to tar and feather i. - first coming itinerant. Abbott was warned. " I thought it would be a disagreeable thing to have m\- clothes spoiled and m\' hair all matted with tar ! " I^ut " I resoK'etl to go and preach, if 1 li.id to die for it." In the prayer the power of God came down ; some fell, man}- wept, and the leader of the mob "had never heard such preaching since Williams went away, and so I came off clear." His own experience grew deep and wide. At Salem, a Presbyterian elder asked him to preach "at my house." The elder and his wife were awakened, and people cried, and one fell. "Do you know what }'ou have done?" asked he of the elder. "WHiat have I done?" "You have opened your I'l' 'i(> I III, Ki:\< ii rTiiiN. -■) *^ .") )rth ^CC- ouls Ucl )ro- was n\v ivccl |)\VC1' the Ivay, and at )plc iked •our house to tile MctluKlist-^, and. if i' \\(>rl< of nlii^ion l)rLak out. x-our pL'oplr will turn )-ou out of tlie s\na_LioL;uc." "1 will die ftir tin; truth." 1 U'll Neck was such a place as its name nii;^ht sui;L,H'st. Ab- bott inx'aded it. "i ha\e heard /\bbotl swear, and I hax'e si'en liini fiL;ht. Xow I will i_;() anil luar hini preach," said a siiuier there. lie was coiu'erted. and had Abbott preach at his house. Abbott went preachin!^M)n the Xeck and won iuan_\- souls, lie was earnest and artless, llis tender, sinii)le appeals touchetl all liearts, and he well knew how bad ami \ iolent men can he touched, lie was mobbed. i\t Mannin^ton, one twice thrust his bayonet by the preacher's ear, but he retreateil, not the preacher. Removing his fam- ily to Salem, he notes a powerful work of i^racc breaking (Mit. Many of the conver- sions w e r c attended with remarkable cir- cumstances, such as needed wise and tender treatment. He counted that these circumstan- ces were no proof of conversion. Distress is REV. john oe.mi'ster, d. d. no standard. If sin and guilt are removed and love ent(^''S the Sv al, that is enough. He alwax's expected immediate results of con- viction and, usually, of conversion in his preaching, (^f "demon- strations" he made no account, though no preaching was ever attended by so many, and notable, as his, Watters also speaks of )iis work in New Jersey at this time. "O how^ sweet to labor where the Lord gives his blessii.g u.Ad sets open a door, which no man can shut ! " In Virginia, the numbers on the Norfolk circuit were nearh' doubled in number, and on the Brunswick rose from two hundred and twenty to a thousand. 'Xf'*" I. i ! I 384 THE STURV OF METHODISM. Wesley, this year, sent as recruits two regulars, James Demp- ster and Martin Rodda. Dempster, a Scotchman, trained at the University of Kdinburt^h, had traveled ten years in Enj^land. His health soon failed. Me married, and without giving up the Wes- leyan doctrines, became a Presb)'terian pastor at Florida, N. Y. His son, the Rev. John Dempster, D. D., served for half a century the people from whom his father thus withdrew, and organized the Theological Schools of Boston and Iwanston. Rodda could not let alone politics of the day, in which he took the Royalist side. Me was obliged to flee the country (and his escape was narrow) for distributing, as was believed, the King's proclamation. Glendenning, who had come with these men, as a volunteer, soon left the Methodists. In a little while, Asbury alone was left of the I'^nglishmen. The rest had gone back to England, or out of the denomination. Yet Asbury, himself was worth a thousand men. The times were dark in the land, but there arose, in both Church and State, a class of men equal to the demand of the time. Washington and the men, the list of whose names he leads, proved adequate in war and legislation to all the demands of the Revolution. Asbury, when men-of-war fired upon Boston, said: "I must go on and mind my own business and leave these things to the providence of God." His course proved to be the wise one. Able men rose up at his side and still abler helpers came to him^ from abroad. CHAITI'.R XXXI. must . the one. him. THE RlAOLUTlON. THOUGH here is not the place to say much of the American Revohition, it was, in some things, however, Hke Wesley's religious movement, an effort not to form a nevvorganiza- tion, but to restore life to one in decay. VVes- le)' wished to revive the great Church by the warmth and force of a little one within it. The Americans wished to give effect in the colonics to a principle of the British Constitution — that tax- payers must be represented in the government, which the existing government utterly disregarded. Wesley, at first, failed to see the whole nature of the case. He afterwards gained larger and truer views, and foretold the success of the Revolution. "They asked for nothing more than their legal rights, and that in the most in- offensive manner. They are strong; they are valiant ; they are terribly united." To his preachers he writes : " You were never in your lives in so critical a situation as you are at this time. It M -■) 386 THE STORY OF METHODISM. ■: fl ' |i il'tr h is your part to be peace-makers ; to be loving and tender to all, but to addict yourselves to no party." His advice was well fol- lowed and his people grew right on in strength and numbers, while to other religious bodies the war was a disaster. When this nation was forming, Methodism, being also in infancy, was also plastic and molded itself happily to the new ideas and institutions. We shall see how it struggled in the days of struggle, and how, when the deluge of war subsided, it settled down, at once and solidly, as the first ecclesiastical structure in the new nation — "The Methodist Episcopal Church in the United States of North America." During the war it had increased fourfold. Asbury's sympathy was with the colonies, but he knew his own calling, and that politics, however important to laymen, were foreign to him, whose message was to both patriots and loyalists. From the Third Annual Conference he v/ent to Norfolk. He found the society sadly undisciplined, and worshiping in a shabby old play-house. Discipline was his first care. " It must be enforced, let who will be displeased." He hoped to get a new chapel, but the next winter the loyalists burned the town, and it is not until 1803 that he found there a new chapel, "the best in the State." He learned the intention of Rankin and others to return to Eng- land. " It would be eternal dishonor to leave three thousand souls, neither is it the part of a good shepherd to leave his flock in time of danger. I am determined not to leave them. My busi- ness is to be more intensely devoted to God." He had now the sad duty of preaching the funeral sermon of Williams, the first Methodist preacher to find a grave in our soil. Asbury loved Virginia. There his people struggled along in the war and were not disheartened, and he loved them for their zeal and fidelity, as also for their generous hospitality. He spent more time there than elsewhere, and there he finished his long ministry. Shadford was now on Brunswick circuit, and souls were find- ing peace almost within hearing of hostile cannon. In some places, for long lack of Gospel service, the people were sorel}- heathenized. Planters and their families knew nothing of Chris- tianity. Coming to such a place, when high water had hindered his travel, Shadford was kindly received, and offered to preach. The planter sent out for his neighbors. "They were as wild IN THE REVOLUTION. 387 all, 1 fol- ibers, n this 5 also itions. how, c and tion — North evv his n, were lyalists. c found bby old .1 forced, pel, but lot until I State." to Eng- iiousand •us flock ly busi- now the he first dong in lor their [e spent his long ;re find- In sonic L sorely [f Chris- lindered preach. as wiUl boars." The next day, the man went some miles to show the preacher his best road, and again heard preaching. The result was that he and his wife, "who knew neither God nor themselves," were converted, and at their house were soon an appointment, a society of seventy and a Church. That year eighteen hundred were added to the Brunswick circuit. Sinners were often seized with shaking and fell as if dead, some paralyzed, others praying; and Christians, in the unfolding of the divine love and power, were sometimes unable to stand on their feet. The good Jarratt gave a full account of the work, yet left "the greater part untold." The work, seeing that it went on in the turmoil of war, was wonderful, "great, deep, swift and glori- ous." Jarratt afterwards writes : " I have not heard of one apos- tate yet." "We insist on salvation from the root of sin," and he thinks the attainment of that by many preserved the work. Asbury came, and saw, and joined in the work, " My soul catches the holy fire." He held meetings with Jarratt, who prom- ised to share, if possible, in the coming Conference. Thence he returned to Baltimore and Philadelphia, having, in ten months, ridden about three thousand miles. In all the great centers war was now rife. At Baltimore, a ship of war was said to be coming to destroy the town. Troops and intrenchments were preparing in New York. Asbury was unmoved. He had fixed his own policy and he steered right on, doing his utmost to save the souls of men. Soon he went out again to comfort and confirm the young Churches. At Perry Hall he rested, and Gough went with him to Virginia. He preached constantly. " But the zealous conversa- tion and prayers of Mr. Gough seem to move and mcli the hearts of the people more than my preaching does," and of this none could be gladder than Asbury. His health was now poor, and he rested at the Warm Sulphur Springs in a truly W'esleyan fashion. He read daily a hundred pages, prayed in public 'rve times, lectured in prayer meeting every night and preached in the open air every other day. The Springs, the Saratoga of the day, were not luxurious of enter- tainment. His Grand Central Hotel was sixteen by twenty, "with seven beds and sixteen persons therein, and some noisy children." But the woods were glorious. He hears of the British fleet oft" the coast. " What can they do without three hundred «ii*l ■■■'f-.' w i"',. 388 THE STORY OF METHODISM. thousand men?" Asbury's journals show him now fully entered upon a career equal to that of any of the great Methodist heroes. For half a century, he seems either preachinfj or in the saddle for an appointment. We see in his record almost nothing of the glow that enlivened the labor of Wesley or Whitelield, but we find the calm, stern resolve to make the most of life. He attained much in the sacred languages, in theology and history, but he appears chiefly as a practical man, directing other men, studying policies and administration, and acting in the living present, leaving the morrow to bring its own issues. Soon, Shadford, the last English Methodist preacher, leaves him, and he is sad. "I am three thousand miles from home; my friends have left me; I am counted by some an enemy of the coimtry ; I am every day liable to be seized by violence. Lord, stand by me!" The magistrates knew Wesley's first views, but not his second, and Asbury would not take a test oath of alle- giance. He resolved to be strictly neutral. We shall see that it cost him trouble. For the next two years the temper of men grew fiercer, but Asbury went on preaching. At last, in 1778, he could not safely travel. Thomas White, a judge of Kent County, Delaware, gave him an asylum. At his house he met the preachers, or corre- sponded with them, and, though closely watched, he preached at large in the State, its laws and the temper of its magistrates being milder than elsewhere. Asbury gained the confidence of men in high position, and once the Go\'ernor secured from the Governor of Maryland the freedom of preachers there in custody. Mean- while his views of America grew wider and warmer. In 1777, he believes " the Americans will become a free nation." Soon he sees " that independence will give the Gospel a free course through the land." His confinement at Judge White's was for five weeks close, and for eleven careful. After that the little State was his prison. For a year he preached among his neighbors, and, in 1779, held the Conference in his asylum. In the second year, Delaware was his circuit. Judge White's house being his usual shelter at night. Mrs. W'hite, his hostess, was the true duplicate of Mrs. Gough, at Perry Hall. Her husband was arrested for being a Methodist ; but she clung to him, resisted the patrol who brandished their corre- Ihed at bein^ inen in ivernor Mean- lon he course close, )rison. hekl lire was night. ugh, at liodist ; ll their « . fs ■■ , m ■!*'•;■ ■■,•„,' '■m 'I: 1 ■t 390 THE STORY OF METHODISM. swords, followed to his place of confinement and, after five weeks, procured his release. She prayed with a company of soldiers just leaving their weeping families, she led the class, she did everything but preach ; and, even for that, she was ready and gifted. In everything she was worthy of her devout and gener- ous husband. In his retreat, Asbury won the regard of Richard Bassett, afterwards one of the framers of the United States Constitution, United States Senator and Governor of Delaware. Calling on Judge White, Bassett saw Asbury and some preachers " in sable garments, keeping themselves aside." Mrs. White said : " They are Methodist preachers, some of the best men in the world." "Then I cannot stay here to-night." "You must stay; they can- not hurt you." Charmed at supper with Asbury, Bassett had him as a guest at Dover. Soon, Bassett, with Mrs. Bassett, was a Methodist, a life-long liberal supporter of the Church and even a local preacher. He was chief founder of W^esley Chapel, in Dover, and his three residences, at Dover, Wilmington and Bohemia Manor, were homes for preachers. This last, his country-seat, became another Perry Hall. His only daughter became ancestress of Thomas V. Bayard, now Secretary of State. Another of Asbury's friends in this close time was Judge Philip Bairatt. He now built Barratt's Chapel, and, in 1780, the Quarterly Conference was held in it. This was long the finest of our country chapels, and here Coke first met Asbury and began to frame the Methodist Episcopal Church. The very seat on which they sat is kept. Such were Asbury's friends and guardians in his confinement, if he is confined who has a State for his prison. One sees what the man must have been that he drew and held such friends. To him it was due that Methodism in those regions took such hold of the ruling classes, and that, even to this day, it is of such social position on the " Shores." For two years and a month, Asbury was in Delaware, which, we see, was not to him as Meschek and the tents of Kedar. He had shown himself in a character that none could longer doubt, a true preac^er, faithful to his adopted land and serving its sacred interests. The native preachers now made him assistant oi *>-. ft I IN THE REVOLUTION. 391 superintendent in Rankin's place, and he is to be for a long time the hero of our Story. He now fully entered that course of min- isterial service by which he was to spread Methodism over the nation, and along the wide frontier keep it in even march with the nation's growth. His first journey was southward, where trouble had arisen about the sacraments. He writes, as he makes his way among •-ocks, rivers and pathless woods : " I was tempted and tried in Delaware to prepare me for, and drive me to, this work." In ten months, during which he returned to New Jersey, and, for the first began iat on iment, is what To Ih hold social Iwhich, He Idoubt, jng its Itant oi BARRATT'S CHAPEL, DELAWARE. time, saw Abbott, he traveled four thousand miles, over rudest roads, and averaged a sermon a day. In May of the next year, 1781, he started for the southern wilderness. "Greatly pleased 1 am to get into the woods, where, though alone, I have blessed company." Here and there among the Alleghanies, beyond the south branch of the Potomac, he found settlements where two or three hundred would gather to hear, and the mountains rang "with strains unknown before." At some German settlements he longed to have preachers of their own tongue, but in one place he tried his English before them, if perhaps they might get some crumbs of meaning. At Lecsburgh ,t'. '.. )■*- ; t y ' ) ill f 1 '• i «' I 392 THE STORY Oh METHODISM. he held a Quarterly Conference and then set out to return. Thus, for three years, to 17H4, he was in constant motion. At length, on the first year of peace, Wesley sent Dr. Coke to America. He was c<)nducting service at Barratt's Chapel, when Asbury came, and, going into the pulpit, embraced him, kissed him and sat down by his side. \o warrior ever gave warmer welcome to a reinforcement in the toil of battle. We have told of Coke. He had come as the first Protestant Bishop of the New World. As a grand and graduated I'^nglish clergyman, he could not come until the war was over. He had now come to organize perpetual warfare and conquer the Union for Christ. Asbury greeted him as a very angel, bringing aid and comfort. Rankin put on record his later experiences in this country, and some of them are interesting. When, in 1775, Congress ap- pointed a day of fasting, he preached in Maryland to a large gath- ering. " I tried to open up the cause of all our misery." He was the first to set forth " the dreadful sin of buying and selling the souls and bodies of the poor Africans." He was glad to find hundreds of negroes among the converts in the great revival. He was in a strain of anxiety over the war. One day in August, 1777, at his quarterly meeting, he was told that a squad of militia were coming to arrest him. They came. He went on with his meeting, and, on rising from the first prayer, he noticed men and officers weeping. Under the preach- ing they trembled, and at last they departed, saying: " God for- bid that we should hurt one hair of the head of such a minister !" That day Rankin had a strong impression that there had been a battle Two days later an express came, telling of the battle of Long Island. He was alarmed and hastened to leave the country. In London, he served, after his return, for over thirty years, and was at the death-bed of Wesley. He had proved himself in this country to be a man needed in matter of discipline ; he had found things going loosely and had brought them to order. Be- yond that he was not a manager for America. He was so unable to understand Asbury's wiser views that his presentation of them to Wesley caused the latter to write to Asbury, recalling him to England. The letter never reached Asbury, and for the failure Wesley was afterward most thankful. In the absence of our English brethren, native preachers IN THE KKVOLUTIOX. 393 ,:■«; ',,1, .l,,« hus, :oke vhcn isscd .rnicr told New could ranize sbury untry, ss ap- : gath- rle was ng the to find al. He he was They ;he first ireach- lod for- liister !" been a lattle of [ountry. years, nself in he had :r. Be- unable •f them him to failure ieachers were growing in power. In Maryland and Virginia, Watters was, in 1775, blest with conversions every week, though his circuit was on the frontier, and his hardships many. On his Virginia circuit a hundred souls were added in six months. The next year he was on new ground in Berkeley and Frederick counties. In 1777, he went to Brunswick circuit, the region of Jarratt's revival. Here he notes his first hearing of a Gospel sermon from a clergyman of the Church of England, M. Roberts, who afterwards became a Presbyterian pastor. So Watters labored and endured hardness until the end of the war. He then, for the sake of his family and his health, was obliged to locate. Not quite "locating" was it when he was still filling regular appointments thirty and forty miles from home ! The most important man who came to us during the war was Freeborn Garrettson. He .:— -»-: _■:- was of an old and foremost ^^fvr'^v -'-'A"^'>-^ ':' Z-':^''^ Maryland family, and was fj^>. ; strictly trained in the ways of the Church. He was early yearning over ques- tions of conscience and religion, on which none could give him light, and the message of the itiner- ants was to him a mystery. Its first effect was to induce him to lead a prayerful, devout life, " serving God privately ! " He thought himself a Christian. He fasted, prayed, attended church and rebuked his neighbors. The second effect of the preaching, to which he could not choose but listen, was to shatter this self- confidence and show him that Christ must be his Saviour. Rid- ing home from a sermon by Daniel Ruff, he was deeply impressed that ''now is the accepted time." " I threw the reins of the bridle on the horse's neck, and, putting my hands together, said, ' Lord, I submit !' " " My soul was exceeding happy." Reaching home he called his household together for prayer and praise. Soon followed a scene the like of which had not been seen in America. Standing in the midst of his household, bond and free* at family prayer, he pronounced his servants free, and knelt with them to pray to the Father of all. As did the deed, " a divine METHODIST CHURCH AND ACADEMY, RHINEBECK., N. Y. (Built in 1822, l.-irgely by the efforts and contributions of Freeborn Garrettson.) ■■■■ ''^n , ', <»i f:-' ^A , -''/mi' A'mw^ ■mt 394 THE STOKV OF MK TIK )I)ISM. ^ sweetness ran through my whole frame." It was a great, brave thing for a young planter to do, and the Holy Ghost in his heart endorsed the deed. He now began to tell of Jesus, to exhort and form classes. He started upon a circuit, but returned to work in his own neighborhood. Here he was mobbed, and, on one occa- sion, he was beaten almost to death with a stick, by one of the magistrates of Queen Anne County, for no other offense than that of being a Methodist preacher. He was summoned to military drill, but, sitting on his horse, he told his experience and exhorted a thousand people. He did not drill, but was fined twelve and a half dollars a year, which he was never asked to pay. Soon, Daniel Ruff took him upon a circuit, and his life-work then began. He went upon new ground to form a new circuit. As he went along, prayerfully, musing how and where to begin, he came to a gate. " Turn in, this is the place to be- gin," was his inward im- pression. The house was an officer's, who, that day, held muster. He marched his troops to the front of the house for the sermon, and his own son of thir- teen, Ezekiel Cooper, afterwards a prominent preacher, was con- verted. He went from circuit to circuit, and always had strength and victory. In North Carolina, he told his views of slavery and preached comfort to the slaves, pitying their sad case. He was threatened and interrupted. A man was shot for entertaining him, but he had attained the love that casts out all fear. The next year he was in Maryland, when the masses were thinking that Methodists must be Tories. Hartley, his colleague, was put in FREEBORN GARRETISON. (i! IN THE UF.VOLUTION. 395 a new Talbot jail, where he preached through the windows. After a while it was thought that he might as well preach outside of it, and he was released. The magistrate who had committed him, being sick, sent for Hartley. " When I sent you to jail, I was fighting against God ; pray for me !" He urged his family to be- come Methodists, gave them into Hartley's charge, and rc([uested him to preach "at his funeral." June 24, 1778, he visited Asbury in his retreat at Judge White's, and " had a sweet opportunity of preaching." The next day, as he rode away from his congregation, a ruffian struck him on the head with a club, and a second blow brought him senseless to the ground. He was taken to a house and bled. It seemed as if he could live but a few minutes, and he was as if blest with the very vision of Stephen. " I was so happy that I could scarcely contain myself." His assailant sat by his bedside and ofi*ered him the use of his own carriage ! Garrettson was summoned before a justice, who charged him with violation of law. " Be assured that this matter will be brought to light in an awful eternity!" The pen dropped from the Dogberry's hand, and the preacher retired. He preached from his bed that evening, and, thirty years after, a kinsman of the rufiian invited Garrettson to preach at Church Hill, where he was vestryman, as if to atone for the outrage. The next day, the scarred and bruised face of the preacher was in front of two congregations, and he soon came back to the scene of the outrage, and preached to a large and dceply-afifected concourse. He was victorious. He was in Dover near the end of 1778. A mob gathered, crying: " He is a Tory; he is one of Clowe's men; hang him!" "I was in a fair way to be torn to pieces." A gentleman led him by the hand to the steps of the aca'lemy and bade him preach. " I will stand by you." The sermon rang through the town, and a person in a window a quar- ter of a mile away was convinced, as were twenty others, and even the leader of the mob. A society was now formed in Dover. In Sussex County, a man came with a pistol to shoot Garrettson, but was hindered, and at Salisbury the sheriff came to arrest him, but left him free. At Quantico, a couple who had heard VVhitefield, but had not, for now twenty years, heard a sermon, felt their flickering piety kindled to a flame, and at their house was formed the first society of Somerset County. > H I yjCi Till". ST()R\- ()| MKIIIODISM. {1 jl # l,*|;I.I|'?i |l|i if \ ' fj ( Si Tlicrc was a region (.i Delaware called the Cypress Swamp, where the people were simply heathen, (iarrettson took this into his circuit. .^Vskinj^ a man, " Do >'ou know the Lord Jesus Christ?" he had for answer, •' I know not where the gentleman lives." A second answer was, " 1 know not the man." The peo- ple simpl}' had no religion, and their condition was every way deplorable. Light now came in upon them, (iarrettson's con- gregations went as high as fifteen hundred. A church was built. ICxhorters and preachers were raised up. The i)eople began to till the land and build houses. The wilderness became a garden of Methodism and began to bud and blossom as the rose. Mobs and afflictions were still awaiting the j'oung preacher. At one place, a man presented a musket to his breast; others interfered, and the wretch soon joined the IVIethodists, a broken penitent. At Salisbury, a mob tried to seize him, and, not finding him, nearly killed his entertainer. He was urged to leave at once, but he was n(^t afraid. While he was preaching, one sent by the mob to signal to them their best time to come on was so affected by the sermon that he went to tell them that, if they laid hands on the preacher, he would put the law on them. Now we find him going to Lewiston ; and the people, who had heard of his coming, gaze from their doors and say: "Oh, he is like any other man !" He is greeted with drums, guns, bells, and once, preaching at a court house, on a hot da)', a huge fire was made to sweat him out. He always held the ground, was always more than conqueror, and, from this rude region, he in fifteen months gathered thirteen hundred members. In 1780, he was preaching ten or twelve sermons a week in New Jersey. Soon he is in Dorchester County, Maryland, at the house of a Mr. Airey, whom Judge White and the Bassetts had interested in religion, and who now introduced preaching into his county. Though Airey, a magistrate and eminent citizen, was with him, mobs and annoyances were still his portion. One Sunday he was seized, while preaching, b)' a mob of twenty, led by an old man with a pistol, and was kept a fortnight in Cambridge jail ; a fortnight of gracious experiences and of sweet fellowship of friends, out of which he came in new vigor. He preached to three thousand near the jail, and he conquered the county. It gave him the severest struggle and the completest victory. So he ,';-V IN I UK RKVol.rriON, 397 Uck in at the tts had Into his fas with fday he an old i. '4M f ?< 1 >:>», M 400 THE STORY OF MKTIIODISM. I' i1j''''F 'hi' ' '■ Mmm- If »-• ' ■ . ''ti ' appall," he urged them to flee to Him now for rcfu r C z o ^^ > > d o C/l H ',iV ^- 1; 1 26 I" :i 402 THE STORY OF METHODISM. his first circuit, he was obliged to stop speaking and mingle his tears with those of his people brought in under his ministry, who wept aloud at his departure. Thus, during the eight years of war, great men came out to labor and great revivals took place. The chief prosperity was in the regions of which our story has been telling. War is no "friend to grace," and not only law, but even the Gospel has small hearing in " the clash of arms." Church buildings fared hard. Few were built and some were put to military uses. St. George's, in Philadelphia, became a riding school for British cavalry, and the chapel in Trenton was occupied by troops. For seven years, from the battle of Long Island, 1776, to evacuation, 1783, no preacher was sent to John Street. Still service was held there, and John Mann not only preached Sunday nights (the morning being given to the Hessians), but by filling in his own person all its offices, saved the society, and at the close of the wr reported sixty survivors of the two hundred at its beginning. Only one itinerant, Spraggs, of unpoetic name, crossed the Hudson during the war, and he, a royalist, fled there for refuge. Meanwhile Boardman's little society in Boston became extinct and none were lefc in New England. ! ili:f' ■|pi;l Hii^'i i^;vA,.'Vi(i ['I'A t f\ ■ , .. :in ■j ■ , ! .■■,!(' 1 30^ (n©EIl» IP. ASBUJmT. •\l\ f«' III Mmm CHAPTER XXXII. Forming a Church. URING the remainder of this Story we must take less note of personal histo- ries. The early heroes have now been presented and we must mark only the general movements. The question of the sacraments, which was serious in England, became more serious in America. The Methodists depended for these upon clergy, n of the Church of England, and these, in the war, nearly forsook the country. Our people had no doubt of their right to have these administered by the preachers ; the only doubt was of its expedi- ency. After several postponements, it had a hearing at Fluvanna in 1779. It was time, for "the Episcopal establishment is now dissolved in this country, and therefore in almost all our circuits our members are without the ordinances." Four men were ap- pointed a " Presbytery," to administer the ordinances themselves, and by laying on of hands to authorize to do the same "to those who are under our care and discipline." The proper persons to receive the ordinances were designated and the modes of proced- ure were determined. The "Presbytery" then solemnly ordained one another and such of the preachers as desired it. A. prepara- tory Conference at Kent (Judge White's) had been held, at which seventeen had been present, which had voted against separation from the Church, and, of course, against anything leading to it, as this action about the sacraments straightly led. At Fluvanna. ry we histo- ; been ly the ;ion of ous in )us in n of ok the these pedi- .ivanna is now ircuits ere ap- selves, those ons to roced- dained repara- which aration g to it, vanna, FORMIXCi A CHURCH. 405 the Seventh American Conference, regularly appointed, twenty- seven were on the list and eighteen voted for the above measure. Those voting nay are not recorded. Asbury had not yet entered upon his office, for though the preparatory Conference had named him as superintendent, yet it was needed that the regular Confer- ence confirm the nomination. The action at Fluvanna was, therefore, legal. The brethren thus ordained administered the sacraments, it would seem, in few and extreme cases. They afterwards agreed, with those who dissented from such action, to refer the matter to Mr. Wesley, who replied that matters should remain as they were until further notice. Soon, all was made good by Coke's arrival. There was, for a while, some fear that a division might follow, and when love and reason prevailed the feeling of relief was great indeed. In 1780, we have glimpses of a high morality. The wives of itinerants were to have an allowance from the quarterage equal to that of their husbands. It was determineo to "disapprove the practice of distilling grain into liquor and disown all who would not renounce it." Preachers holding slaves were to promise to set them free, and, seeing "that slavery is contrary to the laws of God, man and nature, we pass our disapprobation on all our friends who hold slaves, and advise their freedom." This was eight years after Mansfield's decision in England, and even before W'ilberforcc wrote his school-boy essay against slavery. It was the first public anti-slavery utterance. The time was now drawing near for the Methodist Church to come into existence. In 17*84, a preliminary Conference, as was several times done, was held in April, in Virginia, the chief session being opened May 2^th, in Baltimore. The preachers were now eighty-four and the members were fourteen thousand nine hundred and eighty-eight, of whom about nine-tenths were south of Mason and Dixon's line. Among new circuits appears the Long Island, though VVoolman Hicks brought IVIethodism into Brooklyn in 1787, by preaching on a table in front of the present Sands Street church, and forming a class in a cooper shop The first obituary question, "Who have died this year?" is now put, and "Dead, on the field of honor," is answered for two, William Wright and Henry Metcalf Asbury's salary was fixed at sixty dollars and %'■' itt,,«^. .:* < ^^"1 il'.l' -JPI^" ■ : ^% ' i"i ■ 5ngland. On September i, 1784, he, with Coke and Creighton. ordained What- coat and Vasey as deacons and, the next day, as presbyters, then ordaining Coke as Bishop (or superintendent) of the Methodist societies in America. Coke was the first Protestant Bishop in America and his was the first Protestant Episcopal Church. • '■ .*« ■ ■"„'>■"'■ ,' if •'-UI '■'■} 1 ; 1 1 1 1 .( . i .. ' '! ■'. 1 ' 1 ' ■1 , ; ; ; ) !f- i r , ml 408 TIIK STORV OK MpyniODISM. Wesley prepared for this Church the Articles of Faith (omittinpj that on Predestination) and the Litur^5y (abridged) so that the Methodist l^piscopal is not wrongly called the eldest-born and lineal successor of the Church of iMiijland in America. That is not very important, but it is worth the knowint^. Wesley preferred Church government by Bishops, but he did not consider it so prescribed and ordered in Scripture, or that an- other form mii^ht not be as good, if one chose it. He believed that Bishops and elders are in the New Testament the same, and that the unbroken succession of Bishops from the apostles is a fable. The little band, freighted with such duty and authority, had a stormy passage of six weeks, sailing four thousand miles and land- ing at New York on the third of November. Stephen Sands first entertained them in generous style and John Dickins, preacher at John Street, gave them a hearty welcome. He was the more delighted, learning their errand, to bring the sacraments to the societies. That evening, Coke preached, at John Street, his first American sermon. In Philadelphia, Jacob Baker opened his house for them. On Sunday, Coke preached in the morning for Mr. Gaw at St. Paul's and in the evening* at St. George's. Ur. White, after- wards Bishop of Pennsylvania, called on him the next day and invited him to his pulpit for the following Sunday. He was also presented to the Governor of the state, who knew Wesley and admired P^letcher. Coke was favorably impressed by men and things in America. He stopped at Bassett's in Dover, and was soon at l^arratt's chapel, "from the name of our friend who built it and who went to heaven a few days ago." In this chapel in the midst of a forest he had a noble congregation. "After the sermon a plain, robust man came up to me in the pulpit and kissed me." He saw this was Asbury. After the preaching came sacrament to five or six hun- dred and love-feast. " It was the best season I e\'er knew, except one at Charlemont in Ireland." This was on November 14th. Young Garrettson was sent off "like an arrow," to gather all the preachers at Baltimore on Christmas eve. For this interval, Asbury turned over to Coke, Black Harry, his servant, got him an "excellent horse," and planned a trip of a thousand miles. " He and I have agreed ' m ' challenge the Constitution. The moral temper of the Conference was the key to their success, for truth and un- selfish love of the general welfare illuminated all their thoughts and showed the way to their conclusions. Two were ordained elders to labor in Nova Scotia, and one for Antigua. For the United States there were ten elders and three deacons, leaving about forty preachers unordained. The doings of this Conference were published in 1785, and bound up with a Sunday Service and with Psalms and Hymns of Wesley's preparing. This Service contained a form of Public Prayer, the Ritual of Ordination and the Articles of Religion. This use of the Liturgy for form of public prayer has never been repealed. It was kept lor a few years in some societies, but it was found to be in the way of class-meetings, love-feasts and the like, and so it fell away. It might be legally revived in any soci- ety, but there is small chance of that. When those who had been reared in the English Church came to be outnumbered by others, the Prayer Book, and with it the gowns and bands worn by elders, quiedy fell into disuse. Wesley reduced to twenty-four the "Thirty-nine Articles" of the English Church. To these were added one "Concerning Christian Rulers." Methodists have now twenty-five presentations of Scripture doctrine, such as not every member would have leisure to gather for himself, "as guides through the voyage of Christian inquiry." The Conference declared its piirpose of allegiance to Wesley, during his life, as his sons in the Gospel, obeying him in all mat- ters of Church government. It also pledged itself, as far as the interests of religion and the welfare of the United States would allow, to keep union with the Methodists of the Old World. Measures were taken for the extirpation of slavery, and the ugly subject was plainly handled. Every member was to emancipate pp Pf»M !' ■ ■\■J^\ 1 ^1 ''■■ 1 ■)''-'•' 1 6» r ■■ rcri '»! 412 THE STORY OF METHODISM. his slaves within twch'e months, where the state law allowed, and was not to bo admitted to the Lord's Supper until he had so done. Unless he did this in the said time he was excluded from the Church. Buying, selling, or giving away slaves was to be fol- lowed by expulsion. These rules were far in advance of the time, and it took eighty years to bring all Methodism to riddance of slavery Yet, though hotly opposed, and suspended in six months, they caused some emancipations and fixed the true and lasting temper of the Church. The duties of preachers were fixed about as they now are. To each preacher was allowed sixty-four dollars yearly, ind the same to his wife, with sixteen dollars to each child under six, and twenty-two to each under eleven. This allowance for children was in two years repealed, but, in 1800, provision for them was again made. The Conference refused themselves all fees, presents and perquisites at weddings, baptisms and burials. Afterwards they accepted these and charged them in the "allowance." L^ach preacher paid two dollars yearly to a "Relief Fund" for extreme and necessitous cases, and widows and orphans. Never did any body of men more sternly renounce worldly good and take vows of poverty and toil more truly than these preachers. Their un- worldliness and their devotion to life's great, unseen realities was not paraded before men, but no man was so blind as not to see it, and it was a source of their power. Preachers now% after a hun- dred years, arc faring better, yet many a struggling itinerant, in fields still severe, comforts himself with the example of these early men, who through faith and patience gained their victories. A General Fund, chiefly for the expenses of men in fields new or remote, was to be raised by yearly or quarterly collections. 1'he attitude in taking the Ford's Supper and the mode of bap- tism were left to the choice of the candidate. Neglect of class meeting and " marrying unawakened persons" were grounds of ex- clusion. This latter act was afterwards to be only "discouraged." mm "iC'ir 5€^oo^ CHAPTER XXXIII. Doctrines and Institutes. "i^iH rag cd." ULEIS adopted by the Christmas Confer- ence were, by their nature, open to change or repeal. In telUnsj now of the doctrines and institutes of American Methodism, we come to things permanent. In all branchings of the original Church these have remained the same. The accepted doctrines agree with those of the great bodies of Christians from the beginning. We reject Predestination and a Limited Atonement ; we hold the mode of bap- tism to be optional ; we reject Purgatory and Prayer to Saints, the Apostolic Succession and the Descent of Christ into Hell. Beyond these, there is a body of doctrine, ample for guidance of faith and con- duct, on which all modern Churches agree. It is not br.dly given i;- the Apostles' Creed, that com- pendium i)ow six t- ' hundred years old, in which all Christian Churches agree. Baptism is with Methodists a sign, not a cause of justification, and is administered to in- fants because, as such, they arc of the kingdom "* '' ■ [';' j ') / i ' '' '! li ' 'i. 1 ll'^l if ' ' ■I ^ ; f^ { ■' i $i [■•' mmi 'I J ill ' ■ * if 'il I i^ , 'I 416 THE STORY OF METHODISM. what it was at the beginning. It is a.i impressive and usually a joyous occasion, the ministerial feast of the year. The presiding Bishop conducts business by a scries of fixed questions, but the routine is enlivened by exuberant spirits, venting themselves in a thousand ways within the limits of decorum. It is the one \'aca- cation week of hospitality, brotherhood and prax^er. Every preacher has his tale to tell his brethren ; laymen renew acquaint- ance with old pastors and plan for future ones ; the wives of the preachers have some days of relief and revival, and the sun looks down on no occasion more entertaining. At first, the Bishop alone considered the men and the field and made out the appoint- ments. No preacher knew his destiny until the Bishop read the list at the close of the Conference. The reading was usually taken is the speaking of Divine Providence, and soon after the parting. \ enrdiction the preachers, with strong heart and hope, were on 1 way to their new posts of service. Many now living will remember when the meeting of the Quarterly Conference was a great occasion. It has always been known as the Quarterly meeting. This Conference was made up of all who held office in the circuit and had charge of all local interests, as chapels, finances of local preachers and exhorters, of trial of appeals and presentation of candidates for the itinerancy. This business was soon done and then came love-feasts, sacra- ments, prayer meetings and sermon^. From miles away, Metho- dist families were in attendance and there was amplest hospitality. Prayer and praise, revival and rejoicing filled two days or more, and people came to know and love each other. The unity of the Church, already begun by the wide acquaintance of the preachers, was promoted by the old-time Quarterly meetings. In later days, they have, by i-.crease of population and the system of stations, lost much of their early character ; but other gatherings, as camp- meetings, institutes and the like, do, in place of these, a somewhat similar work. At the formation of our Church there were, in all, one hun- dred and four preachers, of whom twenty-four were ordained. These are soon called elders and deacons, and the words " assist- ant" and "helpers" disappear. The Bishop was commander, almost dictator. His sway was such as could be safely tr tsted only to a wise and good man, for it was tempered only by i'' :ii; :rs .of ancy. acra- tho- ility. more, f the hers, days, tions, amp- -what hun- lined. issist- mder, istcd ly by DUCTRIXES A\I) INSTnUTES. 417 cxpr.lsion. To this he was more hable than any of his brethren, for he alone could be expelled for " improper conduct," without crime . He was paid no hi'^her than his brethren, and in the inter- vals of Conference must "travel at large," which Asbury and his successors have done, indeed, at very lar<^e. The "assistant" was soon called the "preacher in charge." His duties and those, in fact, of his helper, were about the same as we noted in the Weslc\-an system in luigland. They were to enforce the rules. In those for dram drinking, etc., Wesley's rule about tobacco has never appeared ; perhaps because Asbury and many preachers used it, as do some of their successors unto this day. The rule of Wesley about preaching at five in the morning never worked in this country. It was soon qualified by "where he can get hearers ! " T'len it vanished altogether. The regimen of Wesley was hard, but it was almost in its entirety adopted in America. There it stands, facing the preacher and, if later virtue has not been able to attain unto it, still its influence has been monitory and beneficial. The new Church was now upon its career. Its footing was sure. It was crowding no other aside. There was '"oom enough in the spaces of our continent for all existing Churches, and part of its errand was to revive these and cheer them to their own work. It had also its own task and we proceed to tell how it has been doing that. 27 It I '.'iVii ' '■V w:\\ n i ; i '# it «. ,^;t HC'i.siiji ,.' ifj ¥U, if.' Ei?i f .i:< /iii:t: v W*' i^^Ml. ^■y f*: CHAPTICR XXXIV. To Tin; E\l) (JF THE Centlrv ■ t .' ■■.•v \ m:^m- Mm T !f 1^: 420 Tin-: Sl(>RV OF MF/illoDISM. chapel of the Christmas Conference was now sr)ld and Li_i;ht Street churcli bei;iin. CioinL( soutliward, he had a taste of the perils of the wiklerness, for he came near tlrownin;^ in a swollen stream, across which he had to swim his horse. Wet and shiverinL,^ he reached a house whose master and mistress were absent. "The principal ne^ro lent me an old ragged shirt, coat, vest, breeches, etc., and the negroes made a large fire and hung my clothes up to dry all night." y\t Roanoke, he fuund Jarratt, who condemned the Rule on Slavery. "The secret is, he has twenty-four slaves of his own." S(K)n, Coke had a taste of persecution. He fearlessly denounced slave-hokling. .\s he did this many of the "unawakened" left the barn where he was preaching and got ready to flog him as he came out. A lady offered them hfty pounds if they would "give that little doctor a hundred lashes." On the " doctor's" coming out, "Brother Martin," a magistrate, seized one of them. Colonel Taylor, " a fine, strong man, only half awakened," assumed a fighting attitude and the crowtl fell away. Brother Martin set free fiftetjn slaves ; Norton eight slaves, and Ragland one. Brother Kennon set free twenty-two, worth two hundred dollars apiece. Coming into North Carolina, Coke was silent on slaver}-, for the laws forbade emancipation. The first North Carolina Conference was now held, and a petition for the right of emancipation, to which Asbury had gained the Governor, was addressed to the General Assemblv. Return- ing to Virginia, Coke resumed his urging of the Slavery Rule and arranged for every preacher to circulate a petition to the General Assembly of Virginia, praying for immediate or gradual emanci- pation. The subject had already been under debate, and Coke was sure that the freeholders signing would not be few. Going westward, he dined by appointment with a "plain country gentle- man," George Washington, who now had his first contact with Methodism. " He received us v^ery politely." After dinner. Coke presented the emancipation petition, entreating his signature if in his high place he felt free to sign any petition. Washington assured Coke that he held Coke's views and had stated them to leading statesmen. He declined to sign the petition, but promised to write to the Assembly, if the matter came to a hearing. It is affecting to think how different might have ', ♦' TO THE END OE THE CENTLRV. 421 ind a ;ainecl Icturn- Ic and leneral anci- Cokc iGoiiTf^ :entlc- with I, Coke if in id had rn the came have been the readin^^ of our national histon- had these views of Wash- ington, Coke and the Conference so prevailed as to change the course of the nation on slaver\' in the da\- of small things, when GKORGE WASHINGTON. •* An ox might drink the infant Hudson dr\-." After a few weeks, the Rule on Slavery was suspended at Baltimore, and never again enforced. From that Baltimore Conference, which adjourned January 3, 1785, Coke sailed to luirope. -m ■"'<■[ .^,. , I ,'.l 4J2 THE S|()U\- OF MF/IIIODISM. m Asbury, of course, had not been idle ; he had for four months averaged thirty miles a day, with daily services of every sort. Lee and Willis went with him to Charleston, and at thi^' southern- most point they staid two weeks. They preached evory day ; their host was converted and a society formed, which Willis staid to serve. On Sunday, June 5, 1785, he laid at Abin<^don, twenty-five miles from Baltimore, the corner-stone of Cokesbury Collcj^e, the first of Methodist institutions in this country, the leader of a lon^ train of nearly a hundred and fifty now, the Methodist Episcopal Church having built, since that day, more than one a year. Five thousand dollars had been raised for the work. From its com- mandin<^ site, one looks up the valley of the Susquehanna, and down over the Bay to the ocean. Asbury felt the nature of the occasion. "The sayings which we have heard and known and which our fathers have told us, we will not hide them from our children," was his text, and he spoke as if he foresaw the noble schools of every branch of learnin*^, the L^lory and stren<;th of his people, of which this school was the pioneer, as he was himself the pioneer of a goodly fellowship of Bishops in the hereafter. The building four years later was not quite complete, but thirty students were there, and a preparatory school of fifteen had been three years in progress, in whose examination Asbury took the deepest interest. Already a collegiate town was building around it. Here met, in 1786, the Baltimore Conference. Its professors were also preachers, and at times great religious interest prevailed among the students. In 1792, it had over seventy students, pursuing with English branches, the chief languages, ancient and modern, as well as giving. attention to "agriculture and architecture." A high moral character and purpose was required for admission, and morals and religion received careful attention. The sons of traveling preachers were boarded, clothed and taught gratis, as were orphans. The regimen was interesting. None were to study after seven in the evening, or to be out of bed after nine, or to be in bed after five of the morning, and there was to be no feather-bed. There were to be seven hours of study, with abundance of recrea- tion in and out-of-doors. For ten years it did well its work, and then, at midnight, December 7, 1795, it burned down. It had ' fi)l TO Till-: EM) ol 11 IK CKMIKV 423 cost fifty thousand dollars. Asbury shed 110 tears that his na nio and Coke's — Cokcsbur)- — thus went to ashes. " If any man shoukl ^nvc mo fifty thousand dollars per \-ear to do and suffer ai;ain what 1 have done for that house, I would not do it." Me rei,n-etted the loss of the library, but he thought that neither Whitefield nor the Methodists were called to build " collej^es." lit,- wantetl a simple school. The Cokesbury disaster did not ewmplete the Methodist collegiate enterprises. Coke left England for Nova Scotia, September 24, I7'»} i'i < « '!' f .i '^ ' ■1 i 426 Till-: SIORV OF METHODISM, I ail, ',,?:«! i. .*■.. property." Yet he was charged with ambition to become an Archbishop or a Pope ! Lee now invaded New England. Preaching at South CaroHna, he met at Cheraw a New PLngland merchant, conversation with whom imjjressed Lee's mind with the duty of entering the Last. This he could not at once do, and, meanwhile Methodism had entered "the little state of Vermont," and a class of two or three had been formed at Stratford. Now, Lee stiikes out for Boston, and July, 1790, is the epoch of Methodism in New lingland. It was just thirty years after its arrival in the Western Hemisphere with Mr. Gilbert at Antigua. Lee, in the late afternoon, stood on a table under the Elm, long venerated, now gone, and began .-ervices alone. His singing drew four hearers, and when he had ended prayer people in evening leisure were gathering around. He soon had three thousand hearers and his word was with power. The sons of the Pilgrims, u^ed to dry discourse, were taken by surprise. Many wept; some thought of Whitefield, some went to hear him again, and "could follow him to the ends of the earth." Methodism had now reached Nova Scotia and Canada, Georgia and the mouth of the Ohio, and, five years after, Lee's impression was just entering New Luigland. If there was any region where it was f/ot wanted it was this. Yet here it was wanted. The old order was declining in both doctrine and experience. The Churches were becoming fewer. Infidelity was ripe, and the L'nitarian movement was about to carry away a large proportion of the parishes. There was need of Methodism, and though the Methodist Church, after nearly a century of struggling growth, has only now come to full prosperity, it has all the time proved its mission of diffusing newness of life through other Churches. It has saved religion in New England, when rank heresies were well-nigh crowding it from the soil. For the first year Lee was alone. Before coming to l^oston, he had begun his work in Norwalk under an apple tree by the road-side, after all houses had been refiised him. He had twenty hearers. He was tlie first appointed preacher and this was his first sermon. He was glad (;f the tree. "Who knows but I shall yec have a place in this town were I may la>- my head ! " TO Till-: KM) OF IIIE CENTLRV 427 He went to Fairfield, and, in the town house, his soul flamin^jj with plans and ambitions, he had the schoolmaster and three or four women, and at last thirty. " 'Sly soul was happy " in this day of small thini^s. At New Haven, the president of Yale came to hear him. This man, > i-'. 'I j't M: t» .1. ■i ^ii uei If'' ^ .''•I' ^isl#. 43 « rilK STOKV Ui' METHODISM. is what I t first, those vvho gave no notice of their s u p port of o t h e r Churches were held to pay the Congregational tax. At last, all laws were erased and all support of the Gospel was free. The struggle was usually called Calvinistic, but it was like that of Wesley with parish jjriests of th.e Church of I'Lngland and any other name would have served as well. y\11 that is now far gone behind us and the New I'Jigland Churches of all names are in fair harmon)'. It was a severe trial, though, to be annoj'ed b)' intolerance, jealous)- and petty controversy, and it would not be strange if the preachers were often witty, often harsh and often impatient in repl)-. In 1794, Conference was held at Wilbraham. Mass, and more than half of its recruits were from Maryland and Virginia. The little village afterwards became a seat of learning. In 1826, JOSHUA SOULE. Seventh Bishop of the Methodist Kpiscopal Church. First Bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church South. SCHISMS — EMINENT CHARACTERS. 441 Colonel Binncy, of Boston, and others founded there Wesleyan Academy, which others, as Isaac Rich, the founder of Boston University, have since made a noble and useful school. It has trained more Bishops, preachers and men of affairs than any other Methodist academy. The session of the Conference here was remarkable and seemed to leave an influence on the very soil. Now appears a man to be noted. Nicholas Snethen, born on LoiiG^ Ishiijd, 1769, joined Conference at VVilbraham, He, later, traveled \vith Lee and Asbury, was an able preacher, and made a vi[^orous defense; of the Church a<;ainst O'Kelly. In 1820, he began to write against the spirit and usages of the Church he had so labored to build and defend, and, in 1828, he presided in Baltimore at a con- \ention of seceders which formed the Protestant Methodist Church. He was dis- satisfied with the place of the laity in the *'01d Church," and for twelve )'ears he gave his energies to , , r , %T ISAAC RICH. the work ot the New. His last work was founding Snethen Seminary, Iowa City. His Church has now abtnit twenty-five hundred preachers, travel- ing and local, and one hundred and thirty thousand members. The privileges which he claimed for laymen have since been granted. From this same Conference went the first itinerant to Maine, where the first class was formed at Monmouth, and the first member was Daniel Smith. In 1795, the first chapel in the state was dedicated by Lee at Readfield. The cause went forward with great energy in New England during this year of schism and decrease in the m ^,gm ■:>' ■ ■ 1 •• fj 3 :'.4 'j^ <*i •?< .t)\ , 1 ?:o .^5 .^. ^'Hi '^ d 1 I ,1 442 THE STORY OF METHODISM. South, and there were reported two thousand five hundred and seventy-five members, of whom three hundred and eighteen were in Maine. The first chapel v/as erected in Rhode Island, and New Hampshire called for more preachers. And now, five years from that sermon under the Elm, Lee laid the corner-stone of the first Boston chapel. It was in a bad place. Hanover street, but it was a home, and from it Methodism went out over the citv. ;^^?- I :: ■;< ^ 'H . . ,••:*!:■■;. -y \mm' CHAPTKR XXXVI. The Wild West and Canada. f'v. 1 EXTUCKY and Ohio at the close of the last century were the wile! frontier of the nation. "Westward the star of I-^mpire takes its wa\-," and Methodism keeps even pace with Empire. To take it there was a task of even greater peril than any other, for the Indians were fiercely hostile. Seven years after, a preacher came to Redstone, where he first brought Methodism to a stream feeding the Ohio. Marietta, the first Ohio town was founded, and it was yet thirteen years before Ohio became a state. On the military path of the Cherokees the preachers were ten years behind Daniel Hoone. The entrance of white men into these fair regions was naturally resisted by the Indians at every point. Asbury and his preachers were in con- stant peril. They fed on game and corn, thev spoke to armed men and were even interrui)tetl by the war-whoop. All rough men, all bankrupts in character or fortune, pushed to the frontier to get its shelter and freedom. They became filth}', drunken, quarrelsome and barbarous. If the [)reachers had not followed ,'>< » ;t / • rd 444 THE STOKV OF METHODISM. I ! 1,}|i quickly and boldly, the frontier would have been dreadful in its demoralization. One nii^ht say that Methodism justly claims the great West as its own field. l^arnabas AIcHenry was the first preacher to rise west of the mountains. He entered the work at twenty and served forty-six years. William Burke appears next. It is strange that, in the midst of that fierce Indian war which General Wayne brought to a close, wh.ile the itinerants were in the region of burning and massacre, not one was hurt. Burke's journe\'s were sometimes a hundred miles through the woods without a cabin to stop at, camping where night found him, wearing out, in one season, "two good horses" and all his clothes. In i8i i, after twenty-six years n i ■['!.■: liljljll-jv'w' I ■■-'' CINCINNATI, OHIO IN i8ti. of tile hardest service, he formeil and took charge of the first "station" in Onio, at Cincinnati, where he died in 1855. Thomas Scott had done good service in Kentucky, but. marrying, he could itinerate no longer, as, indeed, hardly an)- could. He became a lawyer and led a useful life in Chillicothe. Under his preaching was brought into the Church, Edward Tiffin. a medical man of Charlestown, Virginia, He became a local preacher. His 'position in Ohio was like that of the noble men of the l^ast, Gough, White and Bassett. He was the first Governor of Ohio after it became a state, and he did honorable service in the United Stavis Senate. His wife. Mar}', sister of Gover/or Worth- ington, was o ar to Asbury and all preachers f » r her hospitality, Tin-: WILD WEST AND CANADA. 445 first piety and tender sympathy with their trials. The Bishop wept at her tomb. " How deeply I feel her loss ! " No early citizen did for Ohio in so many ways as much good work as Tiffin. Scott became Chief-justice of the state, and no two men ever could have done more for religion within it than these, its highest dignitaries. Francis McCormick is counted the founder of the Church in the Northwestern Territory. This was the vast, vague region north and west of the Ohio. His father had offered him the homestead in Virginia, if he would renounce Methodism, and was fiercely angry at his son's persistence. The poor man, a distiller, afterwards sent for his son to come and pray by his d e a t h - b e d . The son was married, but he became a local preacher, and emigra- ted to Bourbon County, Kentucky, to preach the word. Though born a slave-holder, he then came across the river and founded M c Cormick's Settle- ment, near Cincinnati, to live on free soil. Stopping for a while at Milford, he formed the first class in the northwest, and rev. thomas scott. L,fot John Rabler to come from Kentucky, who was their first itinerant in the vast realm of now a dozen states. McCormick's liouse was the seat of ample hospitality. Of Henry Smith, Val- entine Cook, and of many brave and good men, we cannot speak particularly. In 1795, Asbury came through the region, and again in 1796. His health was poor, but his long rough rides, his daily services, "sleeping four hours, and riding forty miles without food or fire," were cheerfully done. "Oh, if I were young again?" We must leave the West for a while, but we shall come back '\]i I ' < u H o H *5 H THE WILD WEST AND CANADA. 447 to find it furnishing Bishops, McKcndrcc and Roberts, champions like Finlcy and Cartwright. In 1796, the Methodists of Ohio were too few to count, but on the frontiers of the states below were six thousand five hundred members, twice as m ..iy as in New England. There was the same tale of toil and progress in the north be- yond our border. The widow of Philip Embury married John Lawrence and, on the outbreak of the Revolution, went with the Hecks to Augusta, Canada. There Embury's son became leader of the first class in Canada, and Paul and Barbara Heck, with three sons, were of its members. Still pioneers ! The i?rst preacher came six years later. William Losee was the first appointed to Canada, and with him Darius Dunham. This latter was a mighty man, quick of wit and strong of voice nor was Losee far behind. September 15,1 792, the Church in Canada was organized. A cir- cuit had been made of purely new territory, and that day the first busi- ness meeting, the first Quarterly meeting, was held at Bay of Quinte. The next day came the "^si church in Kentucky. love-feast and the Lord's Supper, and the march of Methodism began. The next year, Dr. Mountain, in England, was made liishop of Quebec, and sent over, endowed with a seventh of the lands of Canada, to form the Protestant T^piscopal Church. The Methodist l^jiscopal, as in the states, was ahead of him. Here, too, it was the call and glory of the latter to go to the borders, to find the settler in his cabin and bring him to Christ by bringing the Gospel to him. Losee found Embury's class and Barbara Heck waiting for the coming messengers of peace. Paul died this year. The two men reported a hundred and eighty-four members, this year, as the first fruit of Canada, gained where Christ had not been named before. The Rev. Di. y\lbert Carman is ''priuius'' of Canadian ^ ■ t 1. / -'% i'i', .: "i^ ^- 1 'i '^ i 4 t'i'!, .' H * i '' 1 r.lt • i * 448 rilE Sr(JKV 'er and became a [)reachcr. And • Punch was that slave by the riser." But Asbury had trials. Just a year after the burning ot Cokesbury, an academy, started in Baltimore to replace it, with Light Street Church and parsonage were burned — a loss of one hundred thousand dollars. For ninety years the Maryland Meth- odists undertook no other school. The overwork that made havoc of tlic preachers told on the l^ishop, and what he said of his favorite horse might be said of the rider. "No wonder he is stiff after being ridden five thousand miles a year for five successive years !" The loss of helpers made him sad. Wells, who first welcomed him to Charleston, an able and liberal pillar of the Church, died, and though McFarland, his partner in business, took his place, yet it was but one for two. Coke was deeply interested in the meetings of the negroes, of whom five hundred were members. Their mythological names, Jupiter, Mars, Diana, seemed to him comical. He now left for P>ngland, but the next year, in Virginia, he suddenly met Asbury, and Lee, "riding a borrowed horse with a large white boy on the same behind him." It was Asbury's turn to sec something comi- cal ! Coke had come to get release from office in America. As- bury, by the advice of the Conference, granted it, but he showed how from the place of one Conference in Charleston to that of the farthest in Maine was thirteen hundred miles, and there was "only one worn-out superintendent" — that is, Asbury himself. Lee was the man dear to Asbury as colleague and successor. He was now forty, and his record of fifteen years' preaching was wonderful. A southern tour was now ordered for him, and in m PERSONS AM) INCIDKNTS. 453 December he had twenty-five appointments and five hundred miles of travel. In Charleston, thirteen years after he had preached there the first Methodist sermon, he found two chapels, and five hundred members, black and white. Returning to Vir^nnia, he persuadeil his father to emancipate by will the slaves of the home- stead, and then hastened to and fro as Asbury's substitute. The next year, liSoo, both were in the vast field, preachini;' in new places, where people even ^rown and havin^i^ families had never heard a sermon. Lee rouLjhed it as well as the Bishop, sleeping in lo^ cabins of one room for all the people, and "thirty or forty hogs under it." For four years, to 1804, he preached in Virginia, and the whole State felt his word. lie was flush of vigor, full of wit and glowing eloquence. At one Quarterly meeting every person present was converted, the service lasting all day. Camp meetings were introduced. The first was held in Ken- tucky, where, in 1799, a meeting held by a Presbyterian and a Methodist had .suddenly outgrown the house and been adjourned to the woods. In the early days the attendance was immensL-, and the good of them very great. They were to the scattered people in the leisure after harvest, like the various summer assemblies and Chautauquas of to-day, only that they were for devotion only. Lee used them to good purpose in Virguiia. In 1800, wonderful revivals took place in the South and West. Baltimore was deeply moved and a hundred and fifty were converted during the week of General Conference. In east Virginia, a clergyman of bitterly hostile temper, announced that he would now preach "the funeral sermon of Methodism." There was a vast assembly, and prominent was a Captain Burton, a Churchman, and a very Saul In opposing Meth- odists. The discourse was so able that it was suggested that Coke be brought from England to answer it. Captain Burton came away strangely impressed that the Methodists might, after all, be right ! He grew distressed, sent for a preacher who explained Methodism, prayed, and left the captain and family in tears. The next afternoon there was preaching to a crowd at the captain's house, and before morning victoiy came. The meeting held thirteen days. Burton, his wife and children, and all his negroes and neighbors, ninety-five in all, formed a societ}', and " Burton's Chapel " was long a grateful memorial of the work. m 'i:^M ..■♦', It I \^i !/. PI w r !<-;. f?l »f: r(«^«3 ■iflt• Wv m.[h 454 THE STORY OK METHODISM. Prcachcr.s pressed into the rudest regions of Georgia and the Carolina^ through forests, swamps and canebrakes, reaching people who had never heard a prayer or sermon, and where gen- eral barbarism ruled. In every place some were converted, and these did much to reform their neighbors. Of persecution there was little, but of hardship enough. The first mob raised on the slavery question fell upon Geo. Dougharty, in Charleston, 1801. He was dragged from the church to a pump and would have been killed by the water, only that a brave woman at last stopped the stream with her shawl, and a courageous man with a drawn sword scattered the mob. Mrs. Kugley, the lady, and the preacher both died of this treatment that winter night. Watters, the first American itinerant, now resumes service in and about Washington, and then vanishes. He died in 1833, but a church stands on his farm in Harford County, Maryland, and a Watters, a Methodist, is said still to occupy the estate. William Capers, afterwards Bishop, now began to itinerate in South Carolina, following Gassaway, a mighty preacher, assisting him by service and exhortation, as a squire did a knight of old. In lik(^ manner, McKendrce was called from his Richmond district to go with Asbury and Whatcoat to the widening west. " My business was to take care of their horses and wait on them, for they were both infirm old men." Asbury was now obliged to go in a sulky when the roads would allow. Thus the two young preachers were in training for the Episc«.)pal office. In 1802, the South produced the most elocjuent preacher of the first ijuarter of our century. James R\land, an Irishman, was the peer of the greatest Irish orators. He was six times chaplain of Congress, and Jackson, rinckne\- and other statesmen were his ardent admirers. Jackson, just before his first inauguration, -.'is- ited Rj'laiul, who was sick, and, kneeling at the btclside. was the subject of an arckiit prayer. He made the failliful man chaplain in the na\-)-, for the support and employment of ins old age. Ry- land 'lied in 184.}. his good fame being thus the propertx' of the united church. Rylaiul Chaprl. in Washington, bears his name. Another, James .■^inith, of Saxon tenrperament, joined the Conference with Ryland, and, though hardl>' twenl)', was at once a risinij star. He sat in ihnc (u'ncral ConftTences, and ch'ing in 1826, had thus earl)- mac' a mark for Methodism in thr highest L*.' I'ERSONS AND INCIDENTS. 455 and :hing gen- , and The iiarty, pump oman s man lady, night, in and but a , and a :ratc in isisting of old. district " My m, for ]d to 1^0 young [chcr of Ian. was (haplain •ore his Ion, vis- ^vas the jhaplain of the name, icd the lat oiiee lyin'^ in lliiuhcst society of the great cities. The South was thus, up to 1804, still in the lead of the Cli :h. It had still about half the member- ship, and gifted men arose to push the work of the Church and to adorn its annals. But prosperity attended the preachers elsewhere and c\ery- where. In Dover, Senator Hassett was as eminent a preacher in nis way as Lord Radstock is to-day. He held a week of meetings in Dover, in 1802, partly at his own house, where in one m<;ct- ing, twenty or thirty were subject to grace. Thomas Ware was on the Philadelphia district (which reached to Seneca Lake), and found a warm friend and helper in the eminent Dr. Rush, whose professional service and cheering words were extended freely to itinerants. He sent out one of his best students, Dr. Chandler, as a medical itinerant, and the recruit did good service, not only in the Gospel, but in urging upon all members total abstinence and the like, so that he was a true St. Luke in his service. Tlierc was still some call for the old heroism in facing mobs and opponents. At Dover, on the Flanders circuit, some fierce Romanist foreigners mobbed an aged preacher, (^\\en. They meant to kill him, drumming l;ini out of town, court-martialing him and proposing to hang him. disfiguring his horse, drawing his likeness on a board and selling it, and se\en times pre\enting Thomas Smith from preaching, while other citizens were cowed with fear. At length there were better times — an apjiointment and then a chapel. This Thomas Smith was the most daring of nun. At l\in- berton, a \-oi;n<' man was tre-mbling with con\iction. Three men : ied to uet him awav. "We do not believe in the Christian re- ligion." lie challenged them to be pra\-ed for thirty niinutvs. To this the\' agreed. If, under pra\'er, their own minds changed, they would confess it; if not, .Smith was to renounce Christianit\- in the presence of the whole congregation ! " 1 will most solemnly do so. It is a bargahi. Amen." Man\' trembled and turned pale at this awful contrail. T!ie men ame nj) to the pulpit. " Infi- delit)' and Cl.riMi.mity are fairly at issue, and nia\' (iod .mswir by tiri'!" l'ra\Mng people, crowding to the help of the Lortl, were told to pra\ for coiu'iction onl\-, not con\ersion. Time w.is called and tin- minutes noted, while the ver\' f lundatimis of the houst- "♦"i'l m 'I ^^1 seemed to tremble. T'ifteen miinites '-one!" ( Mu- man fell t, 456 rm; si()K\ ov mkhiodism. the floor. "Twenty ni mutes !" Another fell, like Jericho's wall. At twent\'-five the third sank to his seat. At the end of the tinie .Smith called on them to stand to their bart^ain. Those who could speak, soleninl\- ownetl their chanj:je and confessed that Jestis Christ was the .Son of God. Victor)- was with the dariiiLj itiner.ait; but who uouitl take such risk?" At onr place, a band of N'ouni; men blocked the door, with clubs tt) maul him. After meetin^^^ he came brushinL;" throuL,di thi'in. and ever\ hand luuii^ helpless. l'\tur bound themseK'es soon after "to spill liis blood that (.las'." " I will put m\' trust in God!" and rode through an.tl past them, while they cursed eacli other as cowards. In iSoj, this same .Smith found a ])lace, then rare, where Methi'dism liad flourished and then ditd almost out. lie sj)ent a .Sundax' in the ruui. A loxe-feast was held at which some from abroad were ])ri --i-iit. Before its elo-^e three hundred persons, some in tears autl prayers, had come .ibout the house. The diiors were opened and in tile)' eanu'. and l)i\ini' I'ower came in also The)' f( II like nu !i in battle, and for hours there was no preaching;'. Meetings wcw lujd until Thursdaw ( )n Monday, eighty-fue became meinbrrs. ( )n Monday night, after <..nii,ig out of the hou^e, the pt" )plr C(Uild nut leaw. Smith preacned again finm a grave in the yaid. and nnnc wmt home until ten of luesday morniiii;. The societ)- w.is amply r<.'stored "unto thi^ day." Thom.is .Smith was of gnat bodil\- \igor, ne\er preachetl over twenty minutes, am! Iiis power is ^hown b\' tlu-se incidents. Henry l-ioehm was converted in 1793, but concealed the fact ti\e )-ears. "Lost years," he writes bitterlv. C )f his father, Martin l^oehm, we were telling, lie built his own chaj)el, which became a great center of Methodism, and he sometimes entei- tained .1 hundred guests, l-rmn it weiitW'm. 1 lunter, writer of " loyfullv. onward I move," aiul other beautiful ballads, I )a\ id Best, still npresenteii in tin- ministr)', and a ilo/.en other itiner- ants. I lenry began his life-work in I Soo after General Confer- ence. Mis lionu' spetrh wa>. (ierman, and he spoke ICnglish so poorl)- that lu' came neai giving up preaching, when Mrs. hamals, in M.u'vland, where Garrettsoii hail betn put in jail, gave him a timely woid of both warning and encouragement. Si.\t\' years later he was still gratefullv I'emembering her truth and kindm-ss. I'KRSONS AM) INCIDIA IS. 457 On one of his circuits was Snow Hill, a place for the sale of negroes for the South. Hoehni l)olcll\' denounced the tratle, per- suaded his con\erts to liberate their slaves and completely broke up the traffic. I brr (iruber, on a ciicuit in I)aui)hin Count)', preached to (iLrnians in twenty out of lluir thirtx' appointments, antl, c\en in Readin,^", lioehm ])ut the sermons of the h'dder into German, for man>' h.id u(..'\'er heard an l'"-n;_;lish sermon. Intro- ducing Methoilism into I Iarrisbur;^h, he found opposition and ,,v t ■ unir n.ian was own. anno)'ance, but these were strant;"el\' (,uelled. A }'o mimickini; tlie Mtthoilists. He clappi'd his hands and fell d to the i^reat amusrnu-nt of his c <) m r ades. Hut then' he lay. Tlu)- W(jre alarmrd, and. s h a k i n i; him, found him breath- k's>. dead ! Ridicule ceasetl, antl the peojjle belie\"ed that (iod was f .r the Methotlists. Srv- ent\' years after this time, Hoehm, the oMest liviuL; preacher, was n'ouul; of h«.ait .uid li\L'l}- in rc- hi.'.usiiiL;' llu- Laii\- heroes and heroisms. This Jacob (irubi'i', his fillow (ierman, had been d r i \' e n from his home in Hucks Count)- b)' a father aui^r)- at the son'> becomiuL;' a Methodist. I''or o\rr hall a centui')- hr was iK'\-er absent from his work four consecuti\'e weeks, and he did more work with les> loss of enert;)- than an)' other man of his time. .\t this time the All)riL;hts appear. The)- are offshootini^ Methodists. Jacob AlbriL;ht was a local preacher, who, in 1796, fi'U that his call was to (iermans alone. Asbm)- Io\ed him, lhoUL;h forsaken b)' him, 111 iSoo, Albrij^ht bet;an his orL^ani/.ition. Hoehm had, at his own expense, procured a Cu'iin >n version ot Hu' Discipline, and thi> the AlbriulU- useil. .\fier the ileath of their f ninder, KF.V. HKXRY HOKUM m ^li: 'II ft* 458 Till-: sroRV OF MKTIIODISM. they took liis name. So has Mcthochsm, besides its own distinct ort^anization, not onl)' thrown hfe into old ones, but also thrown off new ones. The Albrii^iits, now called The l'A'an N'liU I) scml DC 'U tl II Ins U 1)0 \11(l lit the rKKSONS AM) INCIDKNTS. 459 Billy Ilibbard ^avc the ministr\' a son, Freeborn Garrcttson Hibbard, for fifty years the most effective preacher in western New \'ork, and widel)- known as an author. His eldest son and namesake, lon^Lj a prominent citizen of \cw York, was obliged to give up "Billy." Not one in ten w uld so address him, and he had to be "William." jV tvc've. Mibbard went throui;h an in- tense religious experience, from which he fell away, but at leiii^th came out into settled peace and a life-lonfr purpose. His wife, a woman of clear head and even temper, was converted, and he be- <;an to suspect his calliiv^. Conversions followed his earliest efforts, but he felt weak and unworthy. At Pittsfield, he heard a weak, "a very weak" brother, who weakened as he went on. " He is weaker than I am, or, if I am as weak as he. I will never try to preach a^ain." The next morning he learnetl that five were converted under that sermon of "the very weak brother." " I hid my face in my hands and said, ' O Lord, marvelous are Thy works !' " He saw that the power was of God, and he never again spoke of weakness. He went to preaching, spent his own property and got almost nothing, but his noble wife cncouragetl him, reared her boys, who came to honor, and the xenerable man, far on in life, had nothing to regret. On Thurman's Patent, near the Hudson, he ft)und young martN'rs. Two \-oung women were whipped b\' their father for "experiencing religion," until the blood ran from their backs down to their feet, and were then turned out-of-doors. Their two young brothers suffered the same. Of ten children, eight were treated in this manner for their religion. They agreed to go l)ack together ami pra\' for their father, l^ntering, tlie\- lenderl\- told their concern for his soul. He threw himself on a lu-d and howled while the\' pra\eil. He lost all strength, was helpless eight }'ears, and could ne\er r.iise a whip again. After about fifty years of x'arious labor he departed, as he saitl. to liis son, with mind as calm as a summer eve. He was a wondeit'ul tiian. In New \'ork State, Methodism was working its wav west- ward. Tlu' first meeting house west of .\lban\- was built in iSoo, at Saucjuoit, near L^tica, wlu u that line cit\- was a cetlar swamp, and Kirkland (irilhii, l',s(j., pra\-eil at the la\-ing of its corner- stone. Whatcoat preached the lirst sennoii tlvre. Soon, C(jlbert. I'.lder of ihe .\Iban\' district, was heard ^W ^^\W:-«a}. . • ' ,i! ^L\ . it ■ '"arft'3^' V 1 ■ i i*iis ■M m '■•■'■•♦'I ■.' .;(■ -; .1, : ', % ■I •* « ,t HI It 'J- ■■'. i.'Rii . ",| 460 Till-; SIORV OF MKIIIODISM. perhaps as far west as Canandai^ua, aiul Lorcii/o Dow made here a startliiii^f canipai^ni. Canada, beyond \ia_L,rara, seems to have been readied before western \e\\ ^'ork, and, in iSoi, the first church tliere was Iniilt b)' Saw\er, and bore his name. Canada now i;a\e to Methodism a name familiar in e\'er\- department (^f Church work for more NATHAN 13ANGS, D. D. than sixt\' )'ears. Xo man labored longer or better to manage and secure its \aried interests, and he is the most truly rei)reseiU- ati\e Methtxhst of our centurv. lie w.is horn in Connecticut, but was now sur\'e\'()r in Canada bc-\-()nd NiaL^ara. lb' Icnew the Mc'thodists onI\- to ilespise them, but under a sei-uiou of S.uwer's he was coiu'erteil. As he Wii> ■ / X<' I'KRSOXS AND INClDKN rs. 461 then tcachiiifj, he opL'iicd school with prav'cr, for which he was stormily dismissed. He be_L;an to preacli. Those who ha\e seen majestic men in the fidl dress of the da\- can see how Haii<^s, who was of manl)' heaut\', must have chaiii^ed in a preacher's t^farb. Me soUl everythin^r in iSoi and went out to preach. No result seemed to follow and he was downcast. Then he dre; ime d of picking at a rock and makinL,^ no impression, lie would i)ick no more, when a strani.;er appeareil, and said : " ]'<>// r duty is to pick." At another blow the rock flew into a thousantl pieces I Ban^t;s was never a^ain tempted to L,n\'e up. He soon had ;in experience ab out " impressions. lie went to a settlement on a winter's di ly to call for prayer and conversation at e\'er\' house. He came to one back in the field with no path to it throut^li the snow. He went on, but was impressed that he oui^ht to visit it, until the impressit)!! became intolerable. He turned back, waded throui^h the snow and found not a soul there. He never attain trusted impressions. (loinj; to an appointment he was annoyed on the roatl by three half-drunken men, who also came to his preachin,L,^ In his sermon he spoke of the sin of drunkenness, which brought from one of them threats and curses. Bangs pra\ed to Daniel's God for deliverance, and the\- hurried out of the house. That night they murderously assaulted a traveler, supposing it to be the preacher, but he put them to ilight while Hangs was safe in bed. Three hundred were gathered on his first circuit, and many there still remember him. The next year a t\'i)hus fe\er aft'ected Hangs' voice, giving it a peculiar double and unpleasant quality, for life, such as his hearers remember. We must now take lea\'e of Canada Methodism, unless for in- cidental notice. Its separation from the Church in the States will be noted. We ma)- say that it is now "The Methodist Church" after the W^esleyan st}-le ; that it has noble schools, church edi- fices and all material prosperity, and reports one thousand six hundred and twenty-eight itinerants, with one hundred aiul sixt>- cight thousand eight hundred and three members. And Barbara Heck once more, in 1S04, at seventy, she sat (lead in her chair. Her German Bible was open on her lap ; it !iad taught her how to live and how to die. Her grave is shown in the old church-yard, with the rude forefathers of the hamlet ■m Ifif' 6 M.^ T'j' 1 iff* . j :S: 462 TIIK STORV OF MK'IIIODISM. aiu! pious frrcat-grandchiklrcn, and cicscciulants beyond call her blessed. So does the Church, which she founded in New York, thirty-nine years before her death, and which now, eighty-two years after it, has covered one continent and reached to many. ■« CHAPTKR XXXVIII, Some Mk\. — The W'Esr. — Two Gknkkal Conikrknh i:s. M once the strcnglh and weakness of New llnj^laiul — the people would "go West," Their emigration to this day drains Churches of their most active members, and for that reason the growth of II i 464 TIIK sroRV OK MKIIIODISM. Methodism in New I^iv^Mand is tlio more remarkable. Iledding Ljrew in power. At Hebron, Connecticut, in an audience of three thousand, five hunih'ed fell within five minutes uniler his preachinj,^ and la\' as if dead. Maine, as well as Vermont, now developed a coming' liishop. He was born in Bristol and bej^an work in 179S, rude of mind and manner, but unable to find a school. Mis education was grained by close study while he traveled. Like Vermont to Iled- din^^ so Maine was to Soule no gentle nurse, but their training made them strontrmen. Soide was majestic in person, and he miL;ht have been mistaken for Andrew Jackson. He a f t e r w a r d s bee a m e book agent in New York, and in i *» ^ <* 4x ■■^^ ^ T 1 466 THE STORY OF METHOClSM. m He became the founder of the Methodist Protestant Church. This body, formed in 1830, and now having fifteen hundred itin- erants, with one hundred and thirty thousand members, differs from the parent Church mainly in having no Bishops and in making the laity equals of the clergy in Church management. Near the Ohio line, forty miles south of Lake Erie, is Old Salem, the home of Robert R. Roberts, a Bishop at thirty-seven ; only E. S. James having become Bishop so young. He was early a student of Methodist authors and, in 1800, became a preacher. H i s earthly passion was for hunting and, even after his making into a Bishop, keeping his home in the Salem cabin, he would go upon his old sport. His skill was wonder- f u 1 — o n 1 y , in later years, he would get lost in thought, and, leaning on his rifle, let the game escape. He was kingly to look at, born to command, and his love of frontier life fitted him to serve as Bishop, to use the pa- REV. ROBERT RICHFORD ROBERTS, P^^^^ P^^J^^^^^ ''' /^r//^//.' The Sixth Bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church. t/ljli/c/ium, amOUg the frontiersmen. His memory is still dear at Salem and along the Chenango. In West Virginia, Cook, the debater, was doing the work of an evangelist, but he was soon broken in health. He then took charge of the first school of Methodist founding in the West, Bethel Semi- nary, in Kentucky, and continued as educator until his death, in 1 820. In 1800, William McKendree, afterward fourth Bishop, took charge of the western work. The first western Conference was at Bethel, Kentucky, where ten preachers besides Asbury, Whatcoat and McKendree were present. ' I, SOME -MEN. — THE WEST. — TWO GENERAL CONFERENCES. 46; Lirch. itin- liffers nd in it. s Old ,even ; 1 early :acher. lassion g and, naking :ceping : Salem .lid go sport. yonder- 1 later idd get \\t, and, rifle. let 3e. He look at, uid. and itier life serve as the pa- partibiis ong the long the rk of an l< charge \c\ Semi- , in 1820. [op, took ;c was at ^hatcoat We noted the development of camp-meetings. They came rapidly into use in all the West, and McKendree availed himself of them to the utmost. People came to them from even three hundied miles away, and deeply impressed, and even converted, opened for the itinerants access to their own neighborhoods. All this gave vigorous growth, and in two years the western Conference doubled its preachers and gained five thousand men"'':wis. Jacob Young, who more than fift)' years later wrote his own biography, a brave and active youth, now spiritual and zealous by sound conversion, came into the work from Kentucky in 1802. He began on Salt River circuit with Colonel James Gwin, Jackson's chaplain at New Orleans, who could not let alone the rifle. Young's book is full of lively and thrilling experiences. On Fishing creek, Kentucky, he found a society of which every mem- ber had been brought in by the labors of a slave, Jacob, who could not read a word. On Saturday night, Jacob's kind master read to him the Bible, and Jacob would choose a text and think it over with prayer, and the next day preach from it. His congre- gation was large and the society prosperous. Young loved all and feared none, and the roughest " Hunters of Kentucky, half horse, half alligator," listened to him and man\- were converted. He felt himself to be one with them in the full spirit of a pioneer. He took in three hundred members on the Salt River circuit. In 1800, Tobias Gibson went to " Mississippi Territory," and gathered eighty-seven members at Natchez. He had reached the place by canoe down the Cumberland, the Ohio and the Mississippi with a courage quite equal to that of Pere Marquette, the Romish missionary of Wisconsin. Four times he came back through the lorn wild of six hundred miles for helpers. He went to his heavenly home in 1804, but men had come to carry on his work. Blackman, who followed Gibson, left four hundred and fifteen members. The planters were emigrants, even refugees, from older regions, and their hostility made the service in the low ct)untries very painful. Cincinnati, a dense forest in 1798, was entered by John Col- lins in 1804. "Is there any Methodist here?" asked he of a grocer with whom he was dealing. " I am one." Collins wept as he embraced the brother. " There are several." The grocer ; i ■■A-' .'. |f«li» 46 THE STORY ()]• ..MKTIJODISM. V^« opened his house for preachinc^. The first Methodist congrega- tion in Cincinnati was twelve persons, in the chamber of John Carter's house, and John ColHns was the preacher, in 1804, and a class of eight was formed, four being the Carter family. " A handful of corn in the top of the mountains." The next sermon was by Robert Sale to forty in a house on Main street between h'irst and Second. The Stone chapel was begun in 1805. What conquest has Methodism made in the city in eighty years ! The first Methodist in Indiana was Nathan Robertson, who came to Charleston in 1799, and the first class was at Gassaway near Charleston, where also the first chapel was built in 1802 and is still shown. Indiana is now the Methodist state, half of its Christian popu- lation being in the Church and its congregations being more than half its population, though Iowa follows hard after. In 1804, Benjamin Young went as a missionary to Illinois. He had a hard time. Few people were there, but " stealing, fighting, lying ! " He found five societies of thirteen each. He was sickly ; he lost his horse, stolen by Kickapoos ; he had to sell his books at Kaskaskia for his board before the people began to help him, but he knew he was "in the work of God" and was not cast down. The first Methodist sermon in Detroit or Michigan, was by one Freeman in 1803. Bangs preached there in 1804, welcomed by one convert of Freeman's sermon, and the first society in the city and state was formed in 1805. Detroit was a Romanist city of French and Indians, and no Protestant church was built there until 1818. Asbury threaded the West about once a year. He w^as always sick and infirm, but his soul was a driving-engine. The details of his experience we have no room for. In our Story, hardshij), suffering and victory are amply familiar, but we may take a little more from Asbury's faithful Journal. At Claiborne, Tennessee, he writes, " What a road have we passed, the worst on the continent, yet there were four or five hundred crossing the hills while we were. As many thousands come yearly from East to West, and we must send preachers after them. Should a well-mounted man complain when he sees men, women and children, almost naked, paddling barefoot and barelegged along, or laboring up the rocky SOMK Mi:X. — I'llH WEST. — TWO GENERAL CONFERENCES. 469 hills, while the best-off liave two or three on the same horse? The people are the kindest, but what can kindness do with a loi;- cabin, twelve by ten, cold and rain without, and six aduhs and as man\- children (one always in motion, to say nothing of dogs) within? I have taken the itch — strange I have not taken it twenty times; there is no security in these filthy beds, but slee[)ing in a sulphur shirt. But we must bear it for the elect's sake. The air is pure and the house of God is near." Reaching North Carolin.i, "once more have I escaped from filth, fleas, rattlesnakes, hills, mountains, rocks and rivers ; farewell, western world for a while !" He took the cup of which his humblest brethren were drinking. But they all had success. The Ciospcl was heard from Detroit to Natchez, and in the wild, thinh'-peopled frontier were more than fifteen thousand Alethodists in the van of the nation. Coke now came to the General Conference at Baltimore in 1800. The number of preachers present is nowhere given, but the leading men were there. On Sunda}', May 18, a high day, Richard Whatcoat was or- dained Bishop, having been on the third ballot elected b\' four votes over Jesse Lee. This latter was not dejected by defeat, and Whatcoat writes it as the chief glory of the Conference that two hundred were converted during the session, h^zekiel Cooper was made book agent. The allowance of preachers was raised to eighty dollars, for the price of all supplies had nearl)' doubled. .V motion was made to have Presiding holders elected by the Con- ferences, and, though defeated, it came before many following Conferences. A motion to create the General Conference df delet'ates was for the present defeated. In 1799, Richard Allen, a colored man, had been ordained by Asbury — the finst case of the kind. He became, in 18 16, the first Bishop of the African Methodist Episcopal Church. A rule was now made to allow such ordinations where the African brethren had a house of their own. Propositions against slavery were offered chiefly by southern men. The General Conference of 1804 met at the same place. May 7th, with Coke presiding. One hundred and twelve were present; of these, more than two-thirds were from the nearest Conferences, the Baltimore and the Philadelphia. This showed the need of a system of delegation. The discipline was now carefully revised. ' ii >■ :' il'i'^li , sf'= ■ji* «i U* i ■' ' "I 4/0 Till" STORY OF MKTIIODISM. The Bishops were to fix the time, but not the place, of each Con- ference and to allow it to sit at least a week. They were to appoint no man to the same place for more than two successive years. The Book Concern was removed to New York, and preachers becoming; authors were to show their manuscripts to the book committee. The United States were formally acknowl- cdi^ed, as now, a sovereign and independent nation. The slavery question did not fail to be discussed, and an edition of the " Dis- cipline," with the chapter on slavery omitted, was ordered for circulation among the slaves. Coke now took his last leave of America. He was the first Protestant Bishop in America, except- ing some visitors sent by the Moravians. His labors were, as we have seen, not confined to the United States, and, though he had designed to make America his home, such were the needs of the English societies after the death of John Wesley that the General Conference in America permitted him to reside in England. George Marsden, an iMiglish Wcslcyan minister, who had been one of the general secretaries of the Wesleyan Missionary Soci- ety, and twice president of the Conference, now visiting America, thought he saw here Methodism in its grandest form, on a scale equal to the grandeur of the country. In England it was a river; here it was a torrent. He thought that without it the new settle- ments would have become heathen. He was right. Tobias Gibson, a man of great wealth, who had forsaken it all to proclaim the Gospel in 1799, volunteered for the Mississippi val- ley, though already broken in health by excessive labors. He reached Natchez eighteen years before the Mississippi territory was admitted into the Union. From this, then a vast wilderness, he went six hundred miles to obtain more laborers from the Western Conference. Four times he made this journey, and a few laborers were given to him from time to time. His successors at Natchez had entered the edges of Louisiana and Florida, so that Method- ism was now in everv state and territory of the Union. While thus keeping up with the territorial spread of the nation, it has outrun its fullness of population. It has not failed to make an annual increase of twenty per cont. ahead of the increase of population. To this we come in another chapter. CHAPTER XXXIX. » ••''^^. Mf.\ and Doixcs IX TiiK South. ■■ ,t 1>)ETH0DISM had bcconc at this date, 1S04, a L,n-cat thi.iL,^ in the South, having more than one hundred thousand members. It is strant^e that Savannah, where the Wcsleys and Whitefield had been, was very diffi- cult of entrance to their successors. Several preachers had been driven away when, in 1806, Asbur\' called for volunteers to a post so hard to gain, Samuel Dunwody attempted it. Teaching a small school for a living, he began to preach, with scant and humble hearing. At the end of the year, Lee gathered into a class twelve, seven being negroes, the first class in Savannah. Five years later, a "Wesley Chapel" was, with outside help, built in the city in which the founders of Methodism had lived and labored. At Charleston the anti-slaver}' struggles had been injurious. In 181 1, only a hundred and forty-five white members were found in the city, but in the next ten years their num- ber was more than doubled. Still that was slow grow'th for a Methodist society. Richmond was singularly destitute of religious institutions. In 1799, it had a small Baptist chapel, and an Episcopal church I'yii r, J.ii > :- : ; ,' ■■ . ' ',1 irv: «l If r* ii 472 11 IK SIOUV OK METHODISM. in whicli a service was held but three times a year, and that to liold eertain eiulow nieiiLs. Tlie first class u\a.s formed, in 1793, by some persons just come from England. In 1799, Thomas Lycll bei^^an a chapel. In 181 I, the most impressive disaster up to that date" in this countr>-, the hurnint; of a crowded theater in which many of the ya\'est perislied, opened the liearts of man\' to hear the rn)spel. Another church was buik, the Virginia Conference was held there and Lee was appointed there. The Methodists were now in a(l\.uice of all other Churches. Not onI\' in these southern centers, but inward and on the fron- tier, ])rogress was made. Lorenzo Dow. who truly counted the world as his i)arish, preached, in 1.S03, the first Protestant sermon, in Alabama, to the rude pioneers on the Tonibigbee and other streams. Randle, the first Presiding IClder, had a district of which the extreme circuits were s e p a rated b )' f o u r hundred miles of Indian territory. In 181 1, the country having, by the extinction of the Indian title, become more occupied, about four hundred members were reported. The region was served by preachers from the South Carolina Conference, but it soon began to be counted as a i)art of the Great West, and men were appointed from the western Conference, from which we saw Gibson come to Natchez. Four young evangelists went, in 18 12, to preach in the farthest regions of the Gulf Full of ardor and devotion, they found no lack of toil, peril and adventure. Heroes became many. REV. U)V1CK PIERCE, M.D. :hat to 1793. hiMuas in this of the "ios\)cl. d there iio\v in other I these s, but ic fron- i niade. 10 truly M-ld as ched, in •otestant am a, to on the other le. the der, had uc h the were o u r f Indian II the by the lout four d by Irve n bei^aii len were we saw in Ion, the they Mi;\ AND I)(»I.\(iS IN llll-: Sdl'l'll. Lewis M\-ers, who hveti to lS;7, was a hard\-, C(iura'';et) 4 / .t :>/ 1 man. wlio Ion; )us. able took, as if from choice, the brunt of labor Ami suffcriuL;' in the lowlands. Win. .M. Kennedy had, anioni; otliei- ^ifts to be coveted, a ])o\vcrful and melodious \'oicc. lie was th e swec t sinu:er of his Conference and Willi his abilit' as ke many ])rcacher, could s\\a\' the \-ast tlironijs at camp-meetintjjs. James Russell U'arnetl to read after lie beijan to preach, the onl)' case of the kind in the history of Methodism. Mis marvelous, natural ^nfls carried him into Conference. He was a born orator and could mo\e with ease as he would an audi- ence, howe\-er larL;e. ]\\'e, voice and muscle joined to express his thoughts, and he be- came a power in foundinsj the Church in the South. On his first circuit he carried a spelling- book, and was not ashamed to s^et help from the children of families that enter- tained him. He be- came a i;ood scholar, and no man had occasion to despise him. Stephen Olin, afterwards the greatest Methodist orator, had the highest admira- tion of his genius and power in preaching, and declared his success "seldom equalled since the time of the apostles," and that in his brief career, thousands of souls were given him in the South Carolina Conference. In the same }'ear, 1804, with these men, two brothers, Lovick and Reddick Pierce, came into the Conference. The former has but just died, after so near a century of prominence at the front of southern Methodism, a prominence due to his labors aiul sacrifices, as well as to his great abilities. These x'oung men. KEV. REDDICK PIERCE. n ■ , I I M w^ ii i. i ifef|lj-;:?!l: 4 IJIJIIIIII'iijf,;^ ;?i ■■■■ ) -t' ,. < i ■■ ■ ■' • ■ 474 rilK SloUV OK MKIlloDlSM. whose fatlicr despised the Methodists, were once allowed to attend a j)reachiiiL,r_ They were awakened and bet^an Uves of prajer. Within three weeks after they joined the Chnrch, their whole famil}' became Methodists. The next year, i8o2. Pierce chapel was built on Tinker's creek. South Carolina, and the brothers entered upon their sacred callinj;. Under Reddick's preaching anions; his oUl associates, ^n-eat results followed. "Eleven sinners at one time fell from one seat crying for mercy." He died in i,S6o. One of those four "true kni^dits " who went to Mississippi was Nolley. He was a poor orphan near Sparta, CieorL;ia, \\ lure Captain Lucas, a Methodist, took him in. At a camp-meet- in<^, in 1806, so great was the congregation that Lovick Pierce held an overflow meet- ing. The power of God was present, and more than a hundred, of whom Nollv was one, were there converted. In 1807, we come to the name of John Early. He joined the Virginia Conference at twenty-one, and his first labors were among the slaves of Thomas Jefferson in his own, Bedford county. His character and talents brought him quickly to the front. In 181 i, five hundred joined his circuit. Two years later he was Presiding I'llder, and at one of his c.inp- mcetings more than eight hundred were converted in one week. Nor was he a preacher only. He founded Randolph Macon College, in Virginia, and was for j-ears its president. livery ofiice of trust and honor in the Church, and some very flattering positions in the state, had been offered him. He had, at the close of his life, probably received into the Church more people than REV. JOHN EARLY, D. D. Sixth Bishop of the M. E. Church South. :5l*ii MKN AND DoiNdS I.\ IIII', Sol" III, 475 ttciu aycr. hapcl )thcrs cr ichin icrs at iS6o. issippi ; was a near w lure ;as, a k him )-nicct- o great cgation ricrcc A' mcct- of Gt)d d more eel. of as one, ivertcd. e come f John ned the i-ence at lid his liis own, qu ic kly Two c;imp- k. e wee Macon 0' o ffict latter mg |he close )le than any man then hving. Strong, simple and spiritual of address, clear and energetic in business, he was \alueil earl\' and laU' in his career, and his name adorns both the Methodist Church anti the Methodist Church South. Major William Capers was a leading Methodist of Charleston. He had been under Marion in the Kex'olution and won his title in defense of his state. Mis son William showetl earl\' promise, and, after a collegiate course, gave himself to the stud\- of the law. His father had, meanw tiic son had been awakened at a camp- meeting, though not converted. One even- ing, father and son caught the hymns that a daughter wa>: singing and both hearts were touched. They went a w a y a n d prayed together, " until grace was restored to my father and mercx' came to me." The father resumed his love for As bury and the Methodists, from whom he had been so sadly estranged, and the son entered upon that long WILLIAM CAPERS, D. D. Third Bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church South. and eminent career in the ministry, which belongs both to the northern and southern Churches. Entering Conference in 1808, he began with twcnt\--four appointments every four weeks. On his second circuit, he found, at Fa)'ettevdllc, Henry Evans, a negro well worth noting. This Evans, being free, had cc^me from Virginia to ply his trade of shoemaking. He found his people in the town poor heathen, at the lowest of morals and habits, and with earnest soul he began preaching to them. Forbidden to do this in the town, he went out to the sand-hills, and when a mob was raised he eluded it by ,V m mil '' '\i i III .m. ] ■ ' I , ;•>. i;«N l.fL ' ■'-}■ ■;('/ ■!.'{** l' ■■■» ■ !».,.,. Kr 4;r, TJIK S'loKV ol'- MKTIIODISM. constant cli.'infjc of appointments, wliiU' lie lioiustl)' told of his efforts ajiil their cause. Soon tlu-re eaiiie a clian^e upon the conduct of tlie negroes — tliere was more fuiehty, less \'ice — so plain that l''.\ans was allowed to ])reach in town. Then masters and niistresst's followed their .servants, and a meetinL;-house was built. The attendance t;rew. Sooji tlie whites took the house and built at the sides ample lean-tos — extension she' • f. ir the negroes. Cai)ers testifies to I'A'ans' power; the facts do so very plaini)'. He besjjan at the bottom and left off at the toj) in h'a\etteville. Capers preached the L,n)od man's funeral sermon, who was buried under the chancel of "ICvans' chapel," his just monument. His record is on hit^h. Capers, in 1810, w as in Charleston. Strancjcly enoui^h, such was the feeling roused by the General Confer- ence's disapproval of slavery that he, son of an eminent slave-hold- ing citizen, was no longer allowed to preach to the negroes. He found, as substi- tutes, able and eloquent REV. REVERLY WAUGH. D. 1) Eleventh Bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Ch;- rh. colored men, whom he licensed to preach, and sent out far and near to the slaves on the plantations. The result was ver}' beneficial and the negroes have since been mostly Methodists. This form of labor on t.he plantations, so beneficial to the poor slaves, led Asbury and others to soften their ideas of emancipation into conciliation and thus atfected the policy of the Church. Capers served the Church long and well, spending in the scTvice an ample fortune. He filled im.portant offices and, in 1845, became Bishop of the Church South, dying in 1855. Beverly Waugh joined the Baltimore Conference, at twenty, MK.N AM) l)()IN(iS IN TIIK sorni. 477 f his I the - — so istcrs c was ic and tiroes. lainly. :cvilU-. l1 the funeral buried »cel of I." hi", :. His 1810, irleston. r\\, such roused Confer- loval of son of e-hold- ,vas no ved to legroes. substi- loqucnt far and as very hodists. he poor cipation Church. sciMce n 1845. twenty, in 1S09. He took his early trainin^^ in Virginia, his native state, on one of its hardest western circuits. After serving- in man)' places, he was, in 1828, made book a;.4ent at New York, from which post he was, in 1836, made the eleventh liishop. He died in 1 858, lea\'in^ the record of a I)rudent laborious man. He was about the last whom the present 'Mr,| i'lV livided y had i Story I of the nade it d. :hed in d one," sermon, though dth and a chapel II as the southern md he is iiference, ied, and was well how the rder and , in the proved uted that hearers, he say. bot was urch and i painful, enty-five , for no such a n. South, housand a week, lica , died MONUMENTS OF LEE AND ASBURY, MT. OLIVET CEMETERY. »i \%: I ■- ■.!<■• I I Lj ■ irr 'imkUM/mimimmimm m-:,<\ U '^- '"% 4S0 THE STORY ()i< METHODISM. March 31, 18 16. licginnin^ his ministry in iMighmd at seventeen, and coming to America at twenty-six, he closed his career at seventy-one. For over fifty years he had preached fully a sermon a day, and, in America, had for forty-five years, traveled six thousand miles II year and ordained more than four thousand preachers. He had been in the West, but was returning through the South to the General Conference at Baltimore. At Rich- mond, March 24th, he preached his last sermon, being carried to and from the pulpit and preaching from his seat. He went on to Spottsylvania to die. His last entry in his Journal tells, " My consolations are great." His last gesture was raising both hands as affirmative to an inquiry after his comfort in Christ. He then entered into rest. At the soon-coming General Conference, McKendree preached his funeral sermon, and, escorted by an immense pro- cession, in which was most noted the sad and noble face of Jesse Lee, the coffin was laid beneath the altar of Eutaw Street church. He was the last of the great quarternion, the foremost four of Methodism, Wesley, Whitefield, Coke and Asbury. Six months later, Lee himself, rejoined his great leader. We iiave told of his career, how for thirty-five years he had gone from Maine to Florida, had brought Methodism to Boston, had been chaplain to Congress, and the earliest Methodist historian. He ranks next to Asbury in service, a Bishop in everything but the name. So fell, at the close of its first half-century, the two greatest figures in the front of American Methodism. COOKING DINNER AT CAMP MEETING. iteen, cr at rmon d six usand rough Rich- •ied to ; on to , " My hands [e then 'endree sc pro- )f Jesse church, four of |er. We ne from ad been |ui. He but the he two CHAPTER XL. Men and Doings in the North. HE most eminent preacher next rising in the Middle States was John Emory. He entered the Philadelphia Confer- ence in 1810. To do this, he had renounced the law, for which he had been finely educated, and in which his prospects were very brilliant. What was more, he had to brave his father's dis- leasure, who refused him a horse, and, for two years, would have no comnuinication with him. Afterwards, there was complete relenting and the father was comforted with the son's niinistrations. Ready for the hardest service, Emory was but three years on circuits. He served in the cities where the highest talent and character was needed. In 18 16, he was a dele- gate to the General Conference, as to every other, but one, during his life thereafter. We saw him, in 1820, a visitor to the IhMtish Confer- ence. He became book agent in 1824 — "Em- ory and Bangs" was the name of the firm — and Bishop, the tenth, in 1832. In 1835, he was thrown from his carriage and died unconscious. His son Robert rose to eminence and became president of Dickinson College. Jacob Gruber had now in Maryland a lively experience. At 31 i'V". •;iv m pi mi t -Mil) -•!■ ', 4 \i \)i Pi fei. :f m i ^ 482 tup: story of Methodism. a camp mcetini,^ near Ha<^crstown he preaclied against slavery before an audience of three thousand. For this he was indicted and tried for felony in Frederick County, The case aroused great interest among the Methodists, for their preachers were often doing the same thing. Roger B. Taney, afterwards Chief Justice of the United States, was Gruber's chief counsel. Taney entered heartily into his case, and showed ably the sentiment and policy of the Church, as having steadily in view the abolition of slav- ery. He went on to denounce slavery as a "blot on our national character," and looked hopefully to the time when "we need not ,*J blush at the language of the Declaration of Independence." O n e can hardly identify the young advocate, ?,o ardent and generous in behalf of liberty for Africans, with the ven- erable jurist who, fort)' years later, in the high- est court of the nation, affirmed that, in this country, "the African has no rights that we are bound to respect." But all that has passed away, and by-gones are by-gones. Gruber was cleared, but he steadily refused "to learn by m}- trial to call good evil and evil good." His next appointment was on the very spot of his trial. Farther north, Nathan Bangs brought into the Church his brother, Heman, whom many recall as majestic of stature, voice and brain as Nathan himself. He was an effective preacher down to our own days. Nathan was now for many years serving along the Hudson REV. JOHN EMORY, D. D. Tenth Bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church. '; '^^-^ ,: ; *y MKX AND DOINGS IN THE NORTH. 483 in' '\ lavery dieted its, for United 3ly the in view )f slav- : on to 3ry as a national i looked ;he time ;cd not language ration of ;." O n e sntify the cate, so generovis berty for the ven- ho, forty the high- lie nation, in this African that has rn by my iment %vas lurch his ire, voice [her down Hudson In 1 8 10, he found in New York about two thousand members. Four hundred were added during his two years of service. He went upon the Rhinebeck district and it grew to be "as a field which the Lord hath blessed," a very garden of Methodism, to this day. Here he called into the work the third of collegiate graduates, following Capers and Emory, Robert Seney, a man of rare and varied excellence, whose son, Robert I. Seney, has been so generous a patron of Method&'^'m i J: Mf 'I m "fit X p: u [Jh Mi:\ AND 1)(JL\(;S IN THE NORTH. 485 '1' m ■I'BlV' m ^'m w/i been allowed, colored people being held to worship with the whites, but, in 1865, Bishop Payne, assisted by Bishop Brown, the successor of Allen, who was the first Bishop, formed a Con- ference in South Carolina, Since the civil war it has f;;reatly prospered. It has, at Philadelphia, a Book Concern, and pub- lishes the Christian Recorder and the Repository. At one time its organization included Canada, but, in 1856, the Canada Confer- ence became a separate body. It ditTers from the parent Church on the color line onl\'. and most friendly courtesies are inter- changed between the General Conferences of both bodies. It is often called " African Bethel Church," from the place of its origin. Some of its bishops have a record of struggle and achievement. Dan- iel A. Payne, at twelve an orphan-apprentice in Charleston, S. C. ; at seventy, presiding over the Ecumenical Confer- ence in London. Such a career, beginning in the disabilities of his race and ending at the fulness of personal and churchly attainment, merits in its widest sense the word heroic. For thirty-six years, the most eventful that his people have ever seen, he has been their bishop and foremost of their leaders. The like may be said of Bishops 'Shorter, Turner, Cain and VVyman. Of their nine bishops, one, the Rev. R. R. Dissney, resides at Chatham, Ontario. At its General Conference at Indianapolis, in May, 1888, one of its sessions was opened with exercises conducted by the Rev. Daniel Smith, a clergyman one hundred and two years old, the oldest effective preacher in the world. This movement was, in 1820, followed by another. The new RICHARD ALLEN. First Bishop of the African Methodist Episcopal Church. 486 THE STORV OF METHODISM. r 'I'm lllfli ,, Church gathered in New York a congregation at a house called the Zion Church. Dissatisfaction with Church government led to a schism, and the new body was called the African Zion Church. It has grown to have three hundred thousand members, with two thousand traveling, and as many local, preachers. It differs in nothing from the "Bethel," only in name, "Zion," neither does either of these differ from the parent Methodist Episcopal Church, unless that their Bishops are elected for four years only. Why do they not unite with each other and with the Mother Church? The color question is surely not in the way, for five hundred thousand freedmen have come into "de ole Chu'ch " since the war. In 1815, Tobias Spicer preached in Troy, with great success, where the work had moved but slowly. A young blacksmith, Noah Levings, arose and began as exhortcr. He came to emi- nence, and was the first Methodist secretary of the American Bible Society, and by his zeal, eloquence and sagacity, he caused that his Church was honored in him. Methodism was now taking wide and lasting hold of central and western New York. In the Susquehanna valley, taking parts of New York and Pennsylvania, was the Canaan circuit, embracing more territory than the Wyoming Conference of to-day. In 18 10, it was for all the young preachers a training ground. The roads were shocking, "pole bridges and no bridges." There was enough of hunger, cold and weariness, of rude shelter amid frontier dis- comforts, and the preacher's pay was forty-nine dollars and ninety- eight cents and traveling expenses. Many a winter evening has this writer, whose father's house was a preacher's home in the region, heard the rehearsal of circuit life there and gazed on the narrator as upon some man more than human. Soon the charming Lake country was threaded, and Peter Vannest, fording the Genesee at Rochester, preached at Ogden the first sermon beyond it. The first class was formed at New- stead. George Lane, best known as the longest-serving of book agents, held the next year, 1808, the first camp meeting, and from that came a new impulse. In Lyons, that daring Thomas Smith, coming to the circuit, found a handful, but the wicked were in large majority and fiill MEN AM) l)OL\(iS IN THE NORTH. 487 called led to hurch. th two Zion, thodist 3r four Mother for five :hu'ch" success, ;ksmith, to emi- .merican c caused f central ig parts bracing n 1 8 10, e roads enout^h iticr dis- ninety- inig lias e in the d on the id Peter Ogden lat New- lof book nig, and circuit, land full of insult and annoyance. Unable to endure this, Smith planned a battle. "I should not wonder if, to-morrow, Lyons should be visited as it never has been and may never again be to the end of time." The meeting became quiet. " For God's sake, tell us what is to happen to-morrow?" cried one at the close. " Let to-morrow speak for itself!" was the answer. Smith went home with Judge Dorsey, just out of town. Next morning, Mrs. Dorsey came with the preacher to call on a family. Crowds were coming into town and there was excitement. At the end of the call, Smith asked if prayer would be agreeable. "By all means, Mr. Smith, by all means, sir." Scores crowded the doors and a crusade began. Smith and his praying ones went in procession from house to house, entering and praying for the souls of the family. Soon there were four hundred in the procession. They entered the tavern, where the seat of all mischief was, and, shouting, stormed it. At four they came upon the village green ; thirty-two converts came within the circle, and forty were that day added to the Church. Trul\', Lyons saw no such day before or since, and no living man could have dared and done this but Thomas Smith. At Judge Dorsey's barn, in Lyons, the beams of which were fifty years after made into me- morial canes, the Genesee Conference was formed. It was of mag- nificent extent, comprising most of New York, a large part of Pennsylvania, and Canada, to the infinite — to the Pacific. One of the members was William Case, the apostle to the Indians. Fiis chief labor was in Canada, and though he served circuits and several districts, yet the work among the Indians was WILLIAM CASE. ■v 488 THK SroKV OF MKTIIODISM. m. his passion. At the separation of Canadian Methodism, in 1828, he took entire charj^e of its Indian schools and missions. He loved the Indians, and his comin<4 to a villa^^e was a joyful occa- sion to them. Even the shy children he would run and catch and kiss. Hundreds were broui^ht to Christ by his labors, and no missionary has had such success amon<^ them. The whole system of Canadian Indian missions is of his devising. In 1830, he was made treneral superintendent of the Meth- odist societies, and, had any Bishop been elected, he would have been the man. In 1854, he preached to the united Canada Conference a "Jubilee Sermon," fifty years after his entrance on his ministry. The union of all Canada Methodism had been his heart's desire and this he lived to see. His death, by a (aW from his horse, occur- red in 1855. The war now com- ing on cut off the Can- ada region of the Gen- esee Conference, and its preachers made REV. WILBUR F,SK, D. D. ^ j^ ^ j ^ ^ ^^ ,^ appoint- ments, splicing on the local brethren. Some preachers from Eng- land came to Quebec and Montreal, but the loss was great. After the peace came freer labor, and, in 181 7, the Confer- ence was held at Elizabethtown. Bishop George, the fifth in order of election, presided, and the session was penticostal. A hundred were made subjects of grace, and a flame of revival went out to all the circuits. Another session was held at Niagara, on Canada soil, in 1820. At that date, there were in upper Canada forty-nine clergymen of other denominations, and of Methodists eighty, besides sixty-five exhorters, and the members were six i828, He occa- catch ■s, and whole Meth- d have n. In :hed to a n a d a Jubilee r years mce on y. The Canada ad been sire and to see. y a fall , occur- mp:n and doinc.s in tiik north. 489 thousand three hundred. Asbury once entered Canada, but the route cannot now be found. Looking to New luigiand, we find Wilbur Fisk, even yet, the greatest, dearest name. He entered the ministry in 1S18, the first New England preacher of collegiate training in a region where that counts seriously. He had graduated at Brown University in 18 1 5, having been a member of the Church already five years, and had intended to give his life to the profession of law. He was not long an itinerant. His calling lay chiefly in the work of education. In 1826, he became principal of the academy, just removed from New Market, N. H., to Wilbraham, Mass. In 1832. he took the presidency of the VVesleyan University, at Middletown, Conn. I have never heard of a teacher who so deeply impressed were six WILBRAHAM ACADEMY. his pupils. The venerable survivors can never speak of him without tears of love and reverence, and his simple monument near the University is visited by many a pilgrim gray, " To bless the turf that wraps his clay." Of his preaching, this may be told. A lad of ten years was taken to hear him in a rural church. " I know I never took my eyes off from him, and I thought he sat down as soon as he got up." The sermon was two hours long! He was twice elected Bishop (once for Canada), but he held himself to his work in education. In 1839, at forty-eight, he went from perfect love and service to perfect bliss in heaven. At this time, too, appears "Father Taylor," one of the men found hardly once in a century. He had been twenty years a P-- , . - ^ ' ' 'i' ■ r i ■ 4 ■ . H '■'■■« I m.,>^ ?f- 'M 490 'IHK SiORV OK MKl'llODlSM. sailor, though only twcnty-scvcn years of aL^c. Amos Binncy hcli)ccl him to three months at schoc-i, and he be^an to preacli. His true field was found to be amon^ sailors, and in 1S29, he was made Sailors' Preacher at Boston. Here he had been converted, after crawling in throuj^h a window to hear Heddin^; preach, and here he now labored forty-three successive years. His genius for preaching, his hearty and poetic feeling and utterance, drew audi- ences from all classes, and Dickens, in "American Notes," cfives him a whole chapter. " He is worth a hundred policemen," said a mayor, and it was true. He forgot the vices of his hearers in their woes, and the poorest and most degraded were helped to the way of goodness by his labors. At the close of th'" war, F-I e d d i n g was preaching in Boston. Building the Bromfield church, afterwards the chief one, drained Methodist resources, and the ruin of busi- ness by the war put u p o n the enterprise eighteen thousand dol- lars of debt. In this dark case, Amos Bin- ney offered, if pews EDWARD T. TAYLOR. could bc Sold tO thc amount of thc debt, to cash thc notes of the buyers and furnish to each enough work in his calling to pay the face of the note. There seemed no other road from ruin, as one Board of Trustees held both houses and both would go f-^r the debt. But the pews were thus sold ; Col, Binney paid the debt and saved the houses. This began " pewed churches" in Methodism. The first academy in New England was now founded at New Market, N. H., and Martin Ruter, the first Doctor of Divinity in American Method- ism, became its principal. In 1820, he was sent to found the Book Concern at Cincinnati. After serving as President of Augusta and Allegheny Colleges, he went, in 1837, as the first missionar}- to MKX AND I)()IN(;S IN THH NORTH. 491 nncy each. u was cited, I, and us for audi- r^ivCS " said rers in ped to odness : of the ily of children. She had come ten miles to the meeting, and to ask the preacher m !f ■ (1 tri ■ I 494 THE STORY OF METHODISM. i'l'V^fff to preach in her cabin for the benefit of her children and neigh- bor.-,. At his next round, Quinn preached at her cabin, near Hillsborough, the preacher and the widow being the only profes- s(jrs of religion. After sermon, Quinn, being soon to go to Con- ference, could leave no appointment, but he sang a parting hymn. Her daughter-in-law, wife of Allen, the Governor of Ohio, and mother of an eminent preacher, Joseph M. Trimble, was deeply convicted, and in prayer was brought to the Saviour. The widow was jane Trimble. She was born at Augusta, Virginia, and had removed to Kentucky, carrying in her arms, on horseback, the fut- ure Governor. She was a bold rider, and swollen rivers had no terrors for her. In Kentucky, her hus- band and herself de- cided to remove to Ohio and free their slaves, and so she came wathin reach of an itinerant. She trained her children and servants in the fear of the Lord, and her mind, well versed in English and sacred JOSEPH M. TRIMBLE. literature, was a won- der for the frontier. Her husband had died before reaching Ohio. She had one of the earliest Sunday-schools ; she aided the Indian missions, and her long, active life was a blessing to her family and the Church. Her descendants are still identified with the Church which she served fifty years. Th(^ most effective pioneer in Illinois was Jesse Walker. The border had charms for him as it 'had for Daniel Boone. In 1806, he was missionary to Illinois, which meant all he might choose to put upon it. The wilderness was his home. He was never lost, he never complained. McKendree was once with him in a tour. MEN AND DOINGS IN THE NORTH. 495 leigh- , near )rofes- ) Con- hymn, o, and deeply widow id had itucky, r arms, the fut- She ler, and had no er. In er hus- ■self de- love to ^c their so she reach of She children in the ord, and versed d sacred a won- re aching he aided ,g to her ficd with ter. The In 1806, ihoose to bver lost, n a tour. They were on horseback and it was very rain}', and some know what that means on the prairies. Their horses swam the full channels, the riders carrying their precious saddle-bags high on their shoulders. They cooked their own food and slept " by the beautiful star." In winter. Walker went from cabin to cabin, faithfully exhorting with prayer the families of the settlers. In the summer, he rode far and near to preach. When a young preacher came to his help they had a camp meeting, with this remarkable end: It ceased " for lack of argument;" the last sin- ner was converted ! He preached in Illinois to a neighborhood of seventy. After three days' service, he read the Rules and " opened the doors of the church." The leading man said; "Sir, I trust we will all here unite with you to serve God," and, coming forward, all came with him. Thus, in one vear, two hundred and eighteen members were gained in Illinois. He then went to Missouri. John Travis, the first appointed preacher, had been preceded by Oglesby, a pioneer, who, in 1805, went into the territory as far as the Osage river, seeing there Daniel Boone, who had come there for " elbow room." He preached the first sermon in Missouri, its utter novelty attracting the people. Travis gathered in the wilds a hundred whites and six blacks. In 1816, a Conference was formed of part of Indiana, and everything west, to the last cabin toward sunset. Walker came to Nashville, in 18 19, to see the Tennessee Conference. He was " ragged, weather-beaten, war-worn !" A suit of clothes was bought for him, which he blushingly accepted and went back to his border. St. Louis was then a terrible place. The only show of re- ligion was by Romanists, unless by a handful of Baptists. Walker proposed to take the town. He engaged two young preachers of the unflinching sort to stand at his right-hand and his left, and they went to the field together. They found the Legislature in session and every hotel full, and they could get no private lodg- ings. Some laughed at them, some cursed them. Sitting on their horses in the public square, they discussed the gloomy pros- pect. The hearts of the youiig men sunk. They thought if the Lord would have His Word preached there He would have made some opening for it. They shook off the dust of their feet for a r*" I ^ wm n't"*;. Si's ■ ' t'f"' v--li MEN AND DOINGS IN THE NORTH. 497 < O 2 B K'l testimony against St. Louis and deliberately rode away. The veteran sat in his saddle and, for once, had gloomy thoughts. It was his first defeat. " I will go to Mississippi and hunt for the lost sheep of the house of Israel," and slowly and sadly he rode eighteen miles southward. He stopped and thought: "Was I ever before defeated in this blessed work? Never. Did any one ever trust in the Lord Jesus Christ and get confounded? No; and by the grace of God I will go back and take St. Louis!" Waiting for neither food nor rest, he turned his horse's head to the battle-field. For the night, he staid at a wretched inn with high prices, and in the morning reconnoitered the city. He met legislators who knew him. " Why, Father Walker, what has brought you here?" "I have come to take St. Louis." "But the people are Catholics and infidels, wild and wicked. No preacher can get access to them. You had better go back to Illinois." " I have come in the name of Christ to take St. Louis, and by the grace of God I will do it." He found a place of worship belonging to a handful of Bap- tists and was allowed to preach there. At his second preaching there was some stir and the house was refused him. He rented a large, vacant dwelling house at ten dollars a month, got some old benches cast away from the court house, and, borrowing tools, repaired them with his own hands, and soon, in his largest room, had regular worship. He lived in the house, and, by day, taught the children of the poor to read and spell, and, by night, the negroes. School and chapel were soon full, and a work of grace began. The house then changed owners and he had to vacate. Without a penny in hand, he contracted for the building of a chapel. A gentleman gave him lumber standing in the forest and soon the chapel was raised and covered. Some Episcopalian gave him an old Bible, cushion and pews, from which he quickly took off the doors. Money came in, and the chapel was finished, fur- nished, and filled, and paid for. At the end of the year he re- ported a thriving school and seventy members. He had taken St. Louis, " the stronghold of devilism." He returned the next year, and, in 1822, Conference was held there. The htory of Methodism has no better thing to tell. The Methodists in the State thus invaded are, to-day, two hundred thousand. 32 ',■ > ?^'5' . ill iffl! 1^ 'iliV.;ii'f' '-.Si; , 'vv i IP .' t -51^ Id* ••V^i • > ■ .*.• 498 THE STORY OF METHODISM. Walker, al\va>-s at the front, then went to the Indians up the Mississijjpi, and, in 1830, was let loose upon Chica<^o. The town was laid out that )'ear. He had no difficulty there beyond what is common in the day of small things. He gathered a class often and, makini^ Beijgs the first in char<^e, had his first Quarterly meeting in 1832. The first church in Chicago was built in 1834, and, in fifty years, there were fifty of Methodist branches. Evans- ton, now the greatest center of the Church in the West, was in Walker's range, but positiv^ely not then in existence. Walker died in 1835. He needs no eulogy. James Axley, a product of these times in the West, was, like Walker, a child of nature. He was "a hunter of Kentucky." His gift for preaching was moderate, but his humor, like that of Abra- ham Lincoln, captivated the western mind. It was keen, tender and timely, and came from a sober face, dark and rugged, under a wide rimmed hat and heavy brows, so that it seemed to flash from the clouds. A newly elected Bishop met him. " How arc you, Brother Axley?" "Who are you?" "My name is Thomas A. Morris." Eying him from head to foot: "Upon my word, I think they were lard pushed for Bishop timber when they got hold of you." "That is just what I myself thought." "Why, you look too young for a Bishop." "As to that, I am old enough to know more and do better." The Bishop quickly loved the plain speaking man, loved him for his wit and for the toils and moving dangers he had passed. He fought bravely against whisky, for the cheap- ness of corn made bourbon the pest and woe of his region. After he located and became a farmer in Tennessee, he steadily testified that house and harvest needed no help from whisky, and that abundant corn could be raised in fields untrodden by a slave. He and Cartwright were kindred of spirit in faith and courage. At a camp meeting, Cartwright was preaching while Axley was quelling a rough gang that threatened to whip him. " If you want to fight, let us go outside the camp." All went. " I don't go into a fight until I pray." He knelt, and before his prayer was done they gave up the fight and melted into decorum. Be- fore the meeting closed, several of the gang were converted. Axley urged temperance in Church legislation until he got the General Conference to his mind. .ip the c town d what 3 of ten uu-tcrly n 1834- Kvans- , was in ker died ivas, like y." His of Abra- n, tender >d, under to flash I, Brother . Morris." hink they \ of you." look too now more speaking angers he le cheap- n. After y testified 1, and that a slave, urage. ile Axley " If you " 1 don't is prayer um. B^'- Iconverted. le got the Mi:X AND J)C)IN(;s IN THE NORTH. 499 Peter Cartwright came in childhood from Virginia to Ken- tucky. His father was a soldier of the Revolution ; his mother had early become a Methodist. When, at nine, he first heard a preacher, at the old Kentucky home, he remembered that his mother shouted for joy. A class was formed, to which she walked four miles and back every week; and soon, Peter, her only son, came home from a dancing party, with an aroused con- science, to bow with her in prayer. He came into the Church in 1 80 1. Walker, the hero of St. Louis, gave him license in 1802, and seventy years later he left his missionary work in Illinois to lie down and die in peace. Axley now came into the Church, and Walker, Cart- wright and Axley were as kindred as three clover leaves. Cartwright, like them, under- stood frontier life, and could meet violence on its own ground, for in bodily strength peter cartwright. few were his equals. A volume of his exploits might be given. In 1805, a mob, led by two champions with loaded whips, came in to break up the preaching. From the stand, he called on two magistrates to arrest the leaders, but these called it "impossible." He came down and offered to do it. The mob came upon him. He laid the leaders, one after another, on the ground. Their champion then reached him and made three passes to knock him down. " I could not resist the temptation. I felled him to the earth." So went the work bravely on. The mob fled, but Cart- wright and his friends collared thirty, among them a magistrate, J. i '*' V- ' .■ ■.:, ':■:■■'- ^ f n 500 THE STORY OK METHODISM. kept them in a tent, and, the next morning, they were fined to th e limit of the law, the magistrate being also cashiered of his office. The affair was on Sunday morning and it threw a cloud over the meeting. Not a preacher could find his tongue. " Let me preach," said Cartwright. " I feel a clear conscience ; we have done right." " Do," said the Elder, " no other man can." He called on all to comn out, and his text that evening was, "The gates of hell shall ' A prevail." The power of God came down, three hundred fell, and mourners were all over the ground. Two hundred professed religion and the victory was complete. As Wesley said of an English preacher: " For such times God makes such men." Many now living well remember Cartwright, not tall, rude of speech, but full of wisdom, harsh of feature, and such a head of hair ! Were its flush and mighty locks ever combed? He sat in twelve General Confer- ences, and for forty-five sessions of his Annual Conference he was pre- sent at the first roll-call. He was fifty years a Presiding Elder, and, in his long life, was never six months away from work. The solitude of old age ! " I have no father, no mother, no brother, no sister living ; I have outlived every member of the class I joined in 1801, every member of my Conference in 1804, nearly every member of the first General Conference, to which I wms elect- ed in 1 8 16, all my early Bishops, all my Presiding l^lders, and hun- dreds and thousands of my contemporary ministers and members ; and I still linger on mortal shores. Why I live, God only knows." For three generations he was one of the notables in Methodism. JOHN M'LEAN, LL. D. JPI; MEN AND DOINGS IN TIIK N(JRTH. led to of his . cloud "Let :c; we 1 can. ig was, d came rrround. .lete. said of •cacher : les God men." ing well rtwright, f speech, wisdom, turc, and of hair! ish and ks ever sat in [l Confer- I forty-five J Annual was pre- roll-call. y ears a hths away lothcr, no If the class . nearly iw as elect- and hun- liicmbcrs ; knows." [hodism. 501 A layman was now raised up in the West who was long an honor to Methodism and to the nation. John M'Lean, born in New Jersey, was a student of law in Cincinnati, and settled for legal practice in Lebanon, Ohio. He was skeptical, but he went to hear, at a private house, John Collins, one of those able men whom we have hardly space to portray. The preacher, at first sight, took the young lawyer upon his heart in prayer. As he uttered the word " eternity," its full meaning came upon his hearer's soul, who could think of nothing but its vast importance. M'Lean followed Col- lins to another appoint- ment to learn what he must do to be saved. Collins asked him to read the New Testa- ment fi fteen minutes daily, until their next interview. Later, they agreed to be in prayer at sunset, wherever they should be. This union of prayer was soon fol- lowed by M'Lean's con- version. He filled with honor many of the highest offices. When he was on the Bench of the Su- ^^^ ^^^^^ ^ bascom.d.d. preme Court of the The Fifth Bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church South. United States, his negro valet, as his master dismissed him for the evening, seemed sad and thoughtful. '* What is the matter, my boy?" " O massa ! I's such a sinner." The Judge laid by his papers and began to talk to the servant about the Saviour. Soon both were weeping; they knelt, and the Judge prayed and taught the man to pray, nor did they rise until the latter was clear in a sense of pardoned sin. Such was M'Lean in every place, through a long and high-placed life. The men that came up as preachers in the West sometimes showed powers that the world was obliged to acknowledge^ '4 * I ''V,A'''t''| ■ i ■' ' '• I • ;i'.i.r| 1 ■ \y :«.' 'I I I Mi h ■mmmm I " 502 THE SrORV OF .MKTIIODISM. Henry 11 Hasconi entered the ministry in (^hio in 18 13. Ten years later, by tlie influence of Henry Clay, his warm admirer, he was chosen Chaplain to Congress and his fame be^an. In all the ^reat cities he drew thron^^s of spell-bound hearers. He after- wards spent some years in educational work, and received from various colleges the hi<^diest honors paid to ijenius and learninij. He was in General Conference at the division of the Church, and was, in 1849, elected a Bishop of the Church South. In the end of July, 1850, he preached in St. Louis a sermon of two hours, a most eloquent effort, but his last. Within two months he died. At Alban}-, New York, in 1844, where the highest of the State heard him in a throng which no house could hold, an eminent critic, who stood in the rain through a long dis- course, said : " He s w e p t us t h r o u g h ranges of the highest thought and feeling with a force quite irre- sistible, gi\'ing us the sensation that children have when swung b\' a strong hand from one REV. THOMAS A. MORRIS, D. D. The Twelfth Bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church. high point to another. We saw in him the full majest\' of sacred eloquence, and some who cared little for preaching bent forward in admiration of his oratory." Thomas A. Morris, a man of far simpler mold, but of large and valuable service, became a preacher in 18 14, having been con- verted under the labors of David Young. After twenty years of travel, he was made editor of the ]Vcstcrn Christian Advocate, then started in Cincinnati. In 1836 he was elected, the twelfth in order, Bishop of the Church. After the death of Bishop Waugh, in 1858, Bishop Morris was senior Bishop until his own death, in 1874. Ten •cr, ho all the aftcr- l from arnini;. ;h, and he end lOurs, a effort, Within le died. w York, re the ;e State 1 throng ^e could nt critic, the rain [)ng dis- ^ •' He rough highest feeling ite irre- 11 s the children Ling b\- a roni one f sacred forward of large een con- years of \atc\ then lin order, in 1858, |i874- .Mi:.\ AND Doixcs i\ riii'; xorih. 503 In 1818, John P. Durbin, whose age marches with tiie c en- tury, entered the ministry. His grandfather had. before his com- Are you not concerned about IS second \-ear ing into the Church, safd to him preaching the Gospel?" and it startled him. In h he went to northwest Ohio on a two liundred mile circuit, and there he began study. After preaching, he sat down in the- one room that served all purposes for a frontier famil)-, and went, w ith pen in hand, through Clarke's Commentaries and \Vesle\-'s and Fletcher's works. Inch by inch he came upward. At the in- stance of Collord, long printer to the Book Concern, he began I^nglish Grammar. studying as he rode on his circuit. Then Dr. Ruter set him upon Latin and Greek, and soon, being at Hamilton, Ohio, he spent a few days of e a c h w e e k at the Miami University, twelve miles away. He copied off his grammars and hung tlum before him on pasteboard for refer- ence. His industry was his genius and it '^t^v. John price uurhln, d. d. was with him, '' per ardna ad astral' steep climbing to the stars. .Soon, by introduction from Doctor Ruter and Governor (after- wards President) Harrison, he matriculated at the Cincinnati Col- lege, being stationed in the city, and obtained the regular degree of A. M. He was, in 1831, Chaplain of the United States Senate. After a brief term as editor of the New York Advocate, he was for ten years President of Dickinson College. In 1850, he was chosen missionary secretar)', and in that office the rest of his life was spent. All the foreign missions ex- cept Liberia were started under his guidance, and he saw the M <• -1 filial 504 THK SroKY OK MK'IIIODISM. iiiconic of the society go from one luuulrcd thousand dollars to seven luuulrcd thousaiul dollars. He died in 1876. Mis elo- quence — that is, his thrills — was spontaneous. Not even he him- self knew what was comin^^. In his manner as speaker he was a perfect gentleman, and his discourses always agreeable and in- structive, and often overpowering. Now came the invasion of Louisiana, the last of the kind which this Story will rehearse. In 1.S05, Asbury had despatched K. W. Howman to reconnoitcr those far-off regions, and the ex- plorer tells his own adventures. He found New Orleans beyond a perilous wilderness. No Americans, only P'rench and Span- iards had settlenuMits below liaton Rouge. In the city there were but few, and they were " beasts of men." On Sunday, he found the Capitol locked, but he preached to a few Frenchmen and drunken sailors. So it was the next Sunday, and he preached to a dozen in the street. Application to the officers availed noth- ing. They cursed all Methodists: "He is a Methodist; lock him t)ut!" was growled in the streets. One said, "The Method- ists are a dangerous people and ought to be discouraged." One more Sunday he preached to a few stragglers in the street. Sunday in New Orleans has not changed in a hundred years — " public balls, trade and sales, wagons running and drums beat- ing." He could get no house, and his money was nearly gone, and he was three hundred miles from an adviser. "To leave my station without Mr. Asbury's direction was like death to me, and, to stay here, I could do nothing." Hearing of Americans, two hundred miles to the west and northwest, he shook the dust from his feet and started. He went fifty miles up the river, and as far down a river that breaks out of the Mississippi. Then he crossed lakes, and went up the west side of the " O'Tash," eighty miles, at length reaching the Opelousas country. He found a Catholic church, where the priest dancc.i a-id played cards after mass, kept a race horse, and swore as hard as the hardest. Twenty miles farther, he found an American settlement. They were as untaught as the Indians. " Some of them, after I had preached to them, asked me what I meant by the fall of man, and when it was that he fell? I have to teach them to sing, and, in fact, to do everything that is like the worship of God." They .thought it doing him a great favor, if they came to the meetings. MKN AM) D(nMiS IN THK NORTH. 505 irs to s cU)- > him- vvas a nd in- c kind atchcd he cx- bcyond Span- re were 2 found len and iched to d noth- X ; lock Method- l." One t. :d years s beat- ly gone, [cave my lie, and, ans, two lust from d as far crossed y miles, Catholic ss, kept ttlement. \, after 1 I of man, [ng, and, ^ The>- leetings. Thirty miles farther, he came to another settlement, all in the same pitiai)le ignorance as the others. "Hut I get as man}- of them together as 1 can, and preach Jesus Christ to the Mil. my God, have mercy on the souls of this people !" He was in a land of swamps and bayous, sometimes wet from morning to night in swimming them. " iMy horses legs are now skinned and rough to his hocks, and I have the rheumatism in all my joints." Vice was rampant, and Sunday was given to frolicking and gambling. In all Bowman's sufferings he was not cast dow n. \VhiI( my body is chilled with cold and wet with water, my soul is filled with heavenly fire." Here was his toil and suffering and not his rest. He kept his ground two years, and then welcomed reinforcements. In 1 i07, Asbury sent Jacob Young to the remote Southwest. Ik- started on " a fine Arabian horse," with five preachers who were to travel the " Mississippi district." They went through the long wilder- ness from Nashville to Natchez, camping out and taking the frontier hardships, until, at Fort Gibson, they met Bow- man, with Blackman and . . BRADD0t:C'S CRAVE. L,eSley, preacliers m Mis- (Xhe men stand on ihe spot where he was buried.) sissippi, now about returning. Young had two years among the lowest people of the whole frontier, many of them criminals and refugees. Axley was now here, and who but Lorenzo Dow ! This strange man seems omni- present. Axley cut and hewed pine timbers, borrowed a yoke of oxen, and hauled them, made a raising-bee and covered the house with shingles of his own making. He built a pulpit, cut doors and windows, bought floor boards with money raised to get him new clothes, and soon had scats. He then invited the people to come and hear him preach, and they crowded to hear. Reading the rules, he offered if they would conform to these, to take them into the Church, but not otheiwisc. Eighteen joined the first day. The first Methodist building in Louisiana was named "Axley Chapel" by a citizen who said that, in building it, Axley had " so behaved that neither man or devil could find fault with him." 13 tl HI « ■>, ,1 jfe. 506 THE STORY OF METHODISM. This was on the Wichita circuit. When Axlcy came b?ck to Mis- sissippi, which he had left as a fuli, fine-lookin<^ man, he was shrunken and miserable; his clothes were worn out, and so were his spirits, for he could not talk without weeping. He soon had new clothes, lively spirits, and the condition due to a victor in a hard-won field. The greatest of the Methodists of the Southwest now appears. William Winans, born in 1788, near Braddock's Grave, Pa., was left, at two years, an orphan. His gifted mother taught him to read well two books, the Bible and the Pil- grim's Progress. At eighteen, he had his only schooling in thir- teen days and a half. The two books had formed and filled his' mind. In 1808, he preached on the lime- stone circuit, Kentucky, and the next }-ear on the Vincennes, Indiana. Then we find him in the Southwest, the right man for the region, and here he for forty- five years employed his wonderful energies of WILLIAM WINANS, D. D. mind and bod}'. His personal appearance was striking. In his later years he became feeble, yet, when he could hardly sit upon a saddle, he would preach with wonderful power. " His spirit glow ed like some eternal flame upon the altar of a ruined temple. In 1844, he was for the ninth time a delegate to the General Conference. In the separation of that year he took a lively interest, being himself a slave-holder. He was then tliin and weather-beaten, negligent of dress, his collar without stock or cravat, slouching about his neck. In this shagbark exterior was a mind of :'.range energy, grasping and handling the most difficult of subjects, and uttering itself in a M.' *r MEN AND rxUXdS IX THE NORTH. 507 ) Mis- e was 3 were n bad jv in a spears, a., was him to books, :he Pil- ;s. At lad his in thir- ^ half, oks had lied his 808, he he lime- ntucky, )-ear on Indiana, iin in the c right non, and [ortv-ftvc l)-ed his f ly. His became d preach lal flame ihe ninth ation of -holder. iress, his In this ,ing and self in a rhetoric equal to that of our best writers. He died in 1857, but his influence in his region has outlived the storms of war. We have noticed the coming of IMethodism into Mississippi. Nolley's work was not yet done. He labored there during the war, following the new settlers and reclaiming them from barba- rism. One day he saw fresh wagon tracks and overtook a settler just placing his family on his intended homestead. " Another Methodist preacher ! I left Virginia for Georgia to get clear of them. There they got my wife and daughter, and I came here, and here is one before my wagon is unloaded !" "My friend, if you go to heaven, you'll find Methodist preach- ers there; if you go to hell, I'm afraid you'll find some there and you see how it is on earth, so you had better make terms witii us and be at peace." Nolley, in 18 14, was in Louisianr, on ik)W- man's trail. He was rudely treated. A planter drove him from his fire. Others took him to the bayou to duck him, when a stout negress rescued him with a hoe and took him back in triumph. He came to Conference and was re-appointed to the same field. In the end of November, on a cold, dreary day, he parted from Griflin, his nearest comrade. The next day he went on, ;'iid at night reached an Indian village, but he had to cross a raging creek or stay with the Indians. An Indian showed him the way, but after crossing he was thrown from his horse, which swam back to the Indian on the other bank. Nolley left all with his guide, and set out to walk two miles to a house for shelter. Wet and wearv, he went a mile through the woods and la\' down to die. His work was done. His muddy knees and some marks in the soft ground showed how he commended his soul to God, and then, composing himself, with one hand on Iv's breast and the other at his side, had quietly passed away. So a traveler the next day found him. His body was taken to the nearest house, and on Sunda\' was buried. His i^rave r ^^ >\s to have been left "to hea\'en's sweet rain" for forty years; it is now visited in "tlv: fenceless old field" of Catahoida, as that of a mart\-r in the ministry of patience, faith and love. A marked event now opened the way of this great, growing Methodism of the West to a work among the Indians, and finally to the Missionar)' Society of the Church. John Stewart was a drunken negro in Marietta, Ohio, and, in sullen remorse and * *V" •; ': 508 THE SrORV OF METHODISM. despair of life as worth liviivjj, he was on his way to the river to drown himself, when he cau^^ht the voice of a preacher. He went to the church door, and gained new ideas of hope, and life, and dut\-. In a week he was a converted man. With a new heart to do good, he determined to give to evangelizing the Indians the life nt)w rescued and made clean. With Bible and hymn book, for he could read and sing, he started for the Indians to the Northwest. His singing was a pleasant introduction, often calming the fiercer savages, and his attitude of prayer was treated with reverence. Among the Wyandottes he found an interpreter Jonathan Pointer, a negro captured, when a youth, in Virgin!?. Stewart's first congregation was one woman, his second, two aged Indians, Big Tree and Mary ; but soon the little band of Wyan- dottes came under his influence. Interest in the effort grew rapidly, and Jane Trimble was its valuable patron. Some of the Wyandottes carried the tidings to their kindred, near Maiden, in Canada. I'wo Indian preachers went there, Peter Jones, John Sunday, and others were raised up, and soon thousands were there receiving instruct, m. In the States there are, to-day, about seven thousand Indian Method- ists, more than half the number being in the Indian Territory. White helpers went to Stewart, and Harriet Stubbs, sister of Mrs. M'Lean, gave herself to the task of teaching them. She seemed to them an angel from heaven, and they gave her a name — pretty redbird. She in teaching the Indian girls, made them of her own temper and feeling. Big Tree, the second hearer, was the first convert, and soon four other chiefs joined him. Of these, two, Between-the-logs and Mononcue, became preachers in their own style, eloquent and effective. Three years after this lonely crusade of John Stewart, the Missionary Society was formed to take the Indian Missions into the general earn of the Church and to go beyond these, and abroad in the earth. In 1888 was purchased for the whole Church, by order of the General Conference, the graveyard at Lower Sanduskx'. In it sleep "the rude forefathers" of the Methodist Missionary Society. There lie the aslies of Stewart, Big Tree, l^etween-the-logs, Mononcue. P>om this neglected spot came into sunlight, like the Jordan from the caves of Hermon, the sparkling, ever-widening flow from which heathen in every continent are drinking, and the source of which is rich, historic ground. ~r-z mn^ rcY to ; went c, and :art to ns the book, to the often treated rpreter irgin'.:^. nd, two fWyan- rapidly, mdottcs 1. Two d others tract. 'H. Method- erritory. sister of m. She • a name de them irer, was )f these, hi their lis lonely brmed to lurch and icr of the . In it Society. -the-loiJjs, [, like the iwidenini; and the CHAPTER XLI. Le(;islation and Usage. y \> ■yO^V^w'^ j3 1$ OVV we turn from tracing the spread of the Church over the nation to a re- hearsal of its structure and manage- ment. We shall see what means were taken to prevent all straggling and disorganization. In 1820, half of the members of the Church were livino- beyond the Alleghanies. A much ^ larger proportion is found there to- day, the center of Methodism being now a little west of Cincinnati, rather beyond the cen- ter of national population. The center of influenrc and character was still at Baltimore. If the Gen- eral Conference, which was a gathering of all the Conferences, were held in the East, the conven- ience of access would cause the eastern preachers greatly to outnumber all others. Thus, of one hundred and twenty-nine at the opening in 1808, half, or sixty-three, were from the two central Con- ferences, the Baltimore and the Philadelphia. Some of the remoter Conferences '>':'eady appeared by delegates, for a plan of doing so had, in the year before been sent around to the Annual Conferences u'ld they seemed to think it would be at once adopted. So it was, after much debate and even being once defeated. ^1 1' > .m i 5 lo THE STORY OF METHODISM. The General Conference was to be composed of delegates, not more than one for every hve, or less than one for every seven members of each Annual Conference. Thus thirty-seven, eight or nine could send but seven delegates. This body, so composed, had full power to make all rules and regulations for the Church. The limit of its action was fixed by certain " Restrictive Rules." It could not change the Articles of Religion, the Ratio of Repre- sentation nor the General Rules. It could not abolish the Itiner- ancy, the General Superintendency, or the Right of Appeal, by preacher or member, nor could it divert the income of the Book Concern or the Chartered Fund margin to an}thing but the relief of preachers and their families. These Restrictive rules can be changed by two-thirds of the General Conference at the joint recommendation of all the Annual Conferences. The^', with the Articles of Relij^ion and the General Rules, form our Church Constitution. In '" ' the Articles of Religion were made abso- lutely unchangeabl ne other Restrictive Rules may now be changed by three-fourths of the Annual Conferences and two- thirds of the General Conference. The General Superintendency by Bishops is unchangeable. From time to time changes in all other respects have been discussed, yet almost nothing has been changed. The ratio of representation has been made to agree with the growth of the Church to prevent an unwieldy magnitude of the General Conference, and it is now one for forty-five and one for a remnant of thirty. Laymen become members' of it — two for each Conference. Beyond that, few serious changes have taken place. Many years before this session (1791), Coke had made pro- posals to Bishop White, of Philadelphia, for a union of the Methodist Episcopal with the Protestant Episcopal. It was an inquiry as to the possibility of the thing, and was personal and confidential. About this time, it caine upon the house tops and to Coke's damage. He explained the matter, that he had in his plan carefully secured the independence of his own Church and that his hope had been to enlarge the Methodistic field of action. His ap- proaches were not successful, and he was now glad they were not. " I do not now believe such a junction desirable." Warmest greetings were exchanged with the British Conference, each assur- ing the other that there was "no separation but the great Atlantic." LL(iISI,Al'H)\ AM) ISAdE. 511 seven li^ht or posed, hurcli. Rules." Rcpre- Itiner- )cal, by le Book le relief can be le joint with the Church de abso- now be and two- tendency gcs in all has been to agree agnitude /-five and jrs of it — liges have lade pro- |n of the [t was an Isonal and ps and to li his plan [d that his His ap- iwere not. Warmest ich assur- lAtlantic." Whatcoat had just died ( 1806) and Asbury alone was Bishop. As there were now seven Conferences, it was proposed to elect one for each and make him local — as I^ishop Taylor is now in Africa. However, McKendree alone was elected. For the first time, an arrangement was made to circulate tracts and the Book Concern was to print a thousand dollars' worth for free distribu- tion. A thousand copies of the Discipline for South Carolina were ordered to be printed, with the omission of everything re- lating to slavery, that ugly question which was to have so many vexatious returns. The glorious feature of this General Conference, as of most others, was its preaching. On Sunday there were five sermons, on week-days three or four, with many "an awful time of the power and presence of God." The most impressive sermon of all was by McKendree, quite fully reported by Bangs. The man, the fourth Bishop soon, was a brown backwoodsman, roughly dressed, with red flannel shirt painfully visible between vest and pantaloons. He began, awkwardly stammering, and Bangs fairly grieved for the honor of the Conference. The speaker warmed up to his work, his voice rang out, and the Holy Ghost was with the Word. Men fell as if shot, and Bangs felt his own heart melting and his strength giving way. He thought he saw a halo of glory around the preacher's head. McKendree had shown great administrative talent, and this sermon decided his election over the noble and generous Lee. Even then there was — to use that western dialect — no lack of Bishop timber. McKendree served in his high office twenty-seven years, dying at Nashville in The first General Conference of delegates met in John Street church. New York, May i, 1812. Ninety men were members. The New England Conference alone provided substitutes for its absentees, a usage at once adopted, and now every Conference elects two "reserves" to fill possible vacancies. McKendree delivered an Episcopal address, or message, a usage still maintained, setting forth officially the state of the Church. He reported that, in seventeen states, the Canadas and the territories, he found about one hundred and ninety thousand members, with seven hundred traveling, and two thousand local preachers. The suggestions of his address were duly considered ■■'^♦•l ^r ■ J ■ . W V U n iiii'l 1:1 mm ■ 1 .■•ft ■ < «-.*(' .'■ 1 1' 1 ■( ' if' ^ . Of 'r?liMf'-f I ; n 51^ Till-: S'lORV Ol-' MKIIIODISM. by the Conference. Axley, .ilways strenuous, was defeated in his effort to make the manufacture, sale or use of whisky a bar to membership, but he secured a remonstrance and admonition against them, as also some den," shivery. After two Presiding holders by the their appointment by the three votes. It came up until 1828. In 1 8 16, the General hundred and six members, prepared for ministerial to examine them were to ference by the Bishop. George and Robert R. Rob Bishops, were elected. A resolution against "pews," introduced into There was alst. be adjusted be preachers in Wesleyan missi Nova Scotia, p r e f e r r e ct t h e Church, and so over the Canadas present retained, strenuous, tried action on the retailing of familiar term in icants In sla little better. The notice of his other "bur- days' debate, the election of Conferences, instead of Bishop, was defeated by in every General Conference Conference counted one A course of study was now candidates, and committees be appointed in each Con- At this session, Enoch erts, the fifth and sixth was passed which we saw New England, some border to t w e e n the C a n a d a a n d o n a r i e s f r o m The Canadians American j u r i s d i c t i o n w a s f o r the Axle}', ever in vain to get distilling and whisk}- — that eludes all intox- very he did a committee sor- NF.W McKENDREE INI. E. CHURCH, SOUIH NASHVH F.E, TENN. rowfully reported that "the evil appears to be past remedy," and SO, indeed, to human eye, it long seemed. Still progress was made. No slave-holder, whose state law allowed emancipation and the slave's after freedom, could hold office in the Church. LF.dlSL.VrioX AND USAGE. 513 n his ar to iiition "bur- ;ion of cad of :d by erence ed one as now mittces h Con- Enoch i sixth passed we saw Sngland. order to the i a and s from anadians i c a n i c t i o n or the • , ever to Ljet ing and , — that II intox- e did a tee sor- Idy," and las made. and the Henceforward, the course of the Story is amid growth and development upon the ground ah-eady gained, and few modifica- tions of usage have occurred. On the whole, the most important has been the introduction of laymen to the councils of the Church. In America it is usually called Lay Delegation. To appreciate the movement, we must go back almost fifty years before the time when that feature of economy was developed in the M. K. Church. It is curious to notice how freedom affects the atmosphere of this continent. The people who fit.^t became inhabitants here, those, at least, who most gave it character, were come to the coun- try for freedom's sake, to be rid of the oppres- sive, or, if not oppres- sive, the narrow policies of nations in the old world. All who came later, in whatever tem- per they may have come, inhale the same air and, in breathing it, receive the same tem- per. Some, coming la- ter, have been of a restless, lawless and malicious style, and ^^^^^ ^^.^^^^ have, in our day, pro- Fifth Bishop of the Methodist Episcopal church. vokcd riot and disorder. Still it is matter for grateful recognition that even the violent and dangerous have soon calmed down into peace and order. Strange, indeed, it is that the worst elements in luiropean populations have soon ceased to give us trouble here. After a little, they have, except a few desperadoes, learned to unite freedom with loyalty and find reasonable range foi activity inside of law. This freedom has fed the energies of the peoi)le a\k\ inspired them to .subdue the continent, and, with all its evils, is a blessing. "The best cure for the evils which liberty produces is libert}'." Men learn by results what fruit comes of lawlessness, 33 *n m%-' i 1^ i 1 I it I' ■ I '- i' 51 Till-; sroRV OF MKTIIoI'lSM. and the wise and just "remnant" come to moderate and control the half-thinkint; and even vicious "majority." This peculiarity of our American society accounts for the entire difference between Wesleyanism in Kny,hind and Methodism in America. The Eni^Hsh are on a huid marked by social orders fixed for now a thousand years and more. When they came into Ikitain they brouL^ht earls, and thei^ns, and freemen, and thralls, and these early social orders have not wholly vanished. "Slaves cannot breathe in Eni^land," but even in the most humble there is a general contentment with the social order. The spirit of rever- ence for the clergy, the result of the Church being a part of the state, and clad with temporal authorit}' as well as with spiritual control, is distinct and universal, even among Dissenters. It was thus \-ery easy and natural for the affairs of the Wesleyan Con- nection to be under ministerial control. We have seen how W'esleyanism began in the person of Wesley himself The preachers were for fifty years his helpers, his employees, doing such work as he assigned them. The con- verts freely joined the societies, and the injunction which all accepted was "not to mend our Rules, but keep them." The control of W'esley's successors over the interests of the Connection was of course natural and logical. Yet eminent lay- men were soon coming into the societies, and before long there came to be need of such talent as they were known to possess. Jabez Bunting, who had such perception of the needs of Wesleyanism in the changes that time was bringing, first urged the admission of laymen to service in the missionary committee, making it consist of twenty- four clergymen and as many laymen. Gradually this method of composition was extended to all the committees dealing with funds. The Annuitant and Book Room Funds arc now the only ones purely ministerial. Committees of this mixed membership meet before the session of the Confer- ences, both English and Irish, and review all expenditures for the previous year, with estimates for the coming year. So beneficial was the working of this experiment that the time plainly drew near for the farther entrance of laymen into the counsels of the Conference. Both wisdom and piety seemed promoted by their presence. In 1875, the Conference resolved that "the time is approachini; . .j.:^l 1';;^^ rr I.KClSI.A'lKi.X ANli ISAlii;. 5'5 :ontrol for the hoclism [ orders mc into thralls, *' Slaves there is )f revcr- rt of the spiritual . It was yan Con- person of s helpers, The con- which all ong )pro[ when a comprehensive phin shoukl be devised for some direct and adequate representation of the hiit>', in the transactions of the business of the Conference, in consistenc)- with the recognized principles of our economy and the i)rinci[:)les of tiie Poll Deed." This last is that Deed of Declaration b}' which one hundred cler- g)nien, dul)' elected, form the legal successors of Mr. Wesley. During the next )'ear, legal counsel WdS taken as to what [)art of the management of affairs must be held to belong to the Legal Hundred. A satisfactory report was made and the business was divided in a very natural way. It is not needed here to give the division in all its items. When the Conference sits, as composed of ministers only, its attention is given to matters affecting only the pastoral or ministerial supervision of the Connection. Only the management of the Book Room is given to ministers alone, as growling out of their supervision of the connectional literature. When the ministers have concluded their work the laymen join them, and the Conference thus formed is twice the size of our House of Representatives, more imposing than the House of Commons and almost as large, for the plan at first was that it should consist of two hundred and forty laymen and as many ministers. This Conference finds work enough to do in manag- ing all the remaining interests of a great and growing Church. Of the lay representatives, one-eighth are by this mixed Confer- ence elected from all parts of the Kingdom. The rest are elected by the combined votes of ministers and laymen in the district meetings. It will be noted that in Methodism "layman" is held to mean "any n mber of the Church who is not a member of an Annual Conference." Lay representation in the Methodist Episcopal Church has a more eventful history. It was preceded by a serious division of the Church. Our economy had from the first put all legislative power in the hands of the itinerancy, and the appointments were made by the Bishop after consultation with Presiding I'Llders of his own selection. This had come from the fact that the very en- trance of Methodism into this country had been of the nature of an invasion, peaceful and beneficent, but much like a military entrance and occupation. Its military likeness of organization and operation had given it great efficiency. The large majority of the preachers liked the system and worked under it in perfect I «' «■ ■ u\ lo.-: 516 THE STORY Or METHODISM. harmony. Some found it too "patriarchal" — that is, despotic — for their tastes. N(jt that they comphiined of tj'ranny actually experienced, but they urj^ed that, should the system at any time come to be managed by tyrannous hands, its facilities for oppres- sion were alarmint;. In 1820, an effort was made, not for the first time, to have the PresidinfT Elders elected by the Conferences. From this grew the Methodist Protestant Church. As Lay Delegation did not for fifty years become a fact in the Old Church, it seems better here to give the Story of the Methodist Protestant Church. potir. — ictually ny lime opprcs- to have [lis grew I not for tter here CHAPTER XLII. The Methodist Protestant Church. r the close of the General Conference of 1820, William S. Stockton, a leading layman in Trenton, N. J,, began to publish the Wesltyan Repository, in advocacy of the representation of the laity in the Confer- ences, with a modification of the office of Presiding Elder and the abolition of that of Bishop. Petitions in behalf of these objects were sent to the General Conference of 1824, but all propositions for change were rejected by a strong majority. In May, of that year, a meeting of the friends of these changes was in Baltimore. Measures were taken to publish the Mutual Rights — i. c., of ministry and members within the M. E. Church. Unions began to be formed within the Church, to promulgate the ideas above named. Articles in the Mutual Rights, which had absorbed the Repository, created warm feeling, and, as societies of unions went on formin- members were suspended or expelled, not for cheir ideas, but for false and injurious statements and sowing discord. All appeals resulted in con- firmation of sentence. Ono pieachcr, D. B. Dorsey, of the Baltimore Conference, wa,, arraigned for such cause, though he and his friends claimed the exact point at issue was the right to organize at all for the promotion of reform. The expulsion of a number in Baltimore, on charges above named, was followed by l?i; fr'f'-F ill mmui SlJIlMliiV* •■ 'V' ■l\- '"firr 'Si^'i' X Si " ' f f ii: IS rni-; >ruuv of .\ii;rii(»it!s.\i, cries of " persecution " tor (litVcrciux.' of opiiiitm on (Church i^^owrn- nu'iit, and soon matters were moving;" more rapidly. Alxmt fourteen preachers and two hundred nienihi-rs now. in the be^dnninir of i,S2'K■cll. ted and the coiitrovers)' went on ^rowinL,^ 11 lis otter u.is rejec iiul iiui spreatiMit; At a General Convention held in l)altitnor<- in issociation were fratiieil, and a proxis- ssociated Methotlist Churches," \\a> the same year, 1828, Nicholas Snethen, tlic [jowerful ()[)|)oi\ent ot' O'Kell)', was president, and Stockton, who eiLjht years earlier had be^un The Wcslcyan Repository, was secretary. It was decided not to abandon the prosecution of m\ object wliich the\- considered of x'ital im[)ortance to the future welfare of the Church. Articles of ional ort^anization, as "/Y formed. Committees to draft a Constitution and Discipline, and to compile a Hymn Hook, were appointed, aiui in two years the Convention was to meet ai^ain. This second Convention, of 1S30, contained fifty-seven ministers and as many layjiien. The}' rejjresented eiL;hty min- isters and about five thousand members. The title of "Methodist Protestant Church" was adopted; a declaration of principles was made and prt)visions for rei^ulatinij and controlling^ the Church were adopted. Some things from the Mother Church were retained. The Articles of Religion and the General Rules were retained in full, together with the same routine of meetings and other means of grace. The division (^^^ the territor\' into districts, circuits aiul stations was after the old style. The ritual was retained, only that the Lord's Supper is not consecrated and the order of deacons was many years after, 1874, abolished. Other things were changed. The offices of Bisho[) and Presiding IClder were abolished. Each district was to hoUl an Annual Conference composed of all its ordained ministers, elect- ing annually its own presiding officer. The appointments of the preachers are made by committees of their own Conference. The General Conference, meeting once in seven years, is composed of ministers and laymen in equal numbers, one of each being chosen from each thousand of members. If any district has less than that number of members, it still has the two representatives. Office and suffrage are limited to white males in full connection and over twenty-one years of age. No minister or member can be expelled for disseminating 1^ w^ ft k THE STORV OF METHODISM. opinions, unless they be '^ontrary to the plain Scripture. Classes elect annually their leaders, but, in failure of election, the pastor nominates and the class elect. In all this, the Methodist Protestants considered themselves not as seceding, but as expelled and as having by necessity formed the new Church for themselves and their children. Many ministers, who had w^armly advocated reform, did not, when the crisis came, care to cross the Rubicon ; so the new organization, being scant of preachers, made large use of local preachers, and its affairs were conducted with great energy. Soon an official organ was started, T/w Methodist Pro- testant, which has been published continuously to this time. A Book Concern was established. A Superannuated Fund Society was chartered, whose invest- ments are now over sixty thousand dollars. Educational efforts were made and seminaries and colleges designed. In 1834, the date of the first General Conference, there were fourteen Annual Conferences, with five hundred preachers and twenty-seven thou- sand members. Soon another paper was started in the VV^est, which finally became Tlic JMctJiodist Recorder, still published at Pittsburgh, The Metliodist Protestant being published at Baltimore. In 1846. the irrepressible conflict of slavery being then rife, the General Conference remanded the control of the subject to the Annual Conferences, declaring that they should make their own regulations covering the matter. There were then thirty-two Annual Conferences with some sixty thousand members. The General Conference now met every four years and at its next session, in 1850, the Madison College, at Uniontown, Penn., came into its possession. Within ten years the grim and restless Slavery Question entered. The college was in a free state, but with a southern faculty. The time was stormy and soon the college was suspended and another opened at Lynchburgh, Va. A missionary society was formed at Pittsburgh in 1854. We noticed that the right of voting and office holding had been given to wdiite males only. In 1857, a Convention of the Churches North and West was held at Cincinnati. They agreed not to attend ihe General Conference, coming in i860, at Lynch- burgh. They [)repared for it a memorial, setting forth that, unless the word "white" were stricken from the Constitution and slave- holding and slave-trading be made a bar to membership North y . ■»' Classes I pastor :thodist ixpelled mselves tvocated ubicon ; arge use [h great list Pro- ime. A 56 invest- lal efforts 1834. the n Annual ven thou- the West, blished at altimore. then rife, ect to the heir own hirty-two crs. The t its next nn., came d restless state, but soon the lurgh, Va. )lding had jion of the liey agreed lat Lynch- Ihat, unless lind slave- jhip North THE METHODIST PROTESTANT CHURCH. 521 and South they would secede. Of course they seceded, taking with them about half the entire Church. There was no complaint or discontent apart from the demand just indicated. In the order of events, slavery soon disappeared. In 1862, a Convention was held by which a General Conference was appointed to meet, in 1866, at Pittsburgh. Before it met, slave-holding had ceased to be a "bar" to anything. This Conference adopted the name of "The Methodist Church." An eftbrt was made to gather in the Wesleyans and other smaller Methodist bodies, but, from opposition to secret societies on the part of the Wesleyans and, from other reasons, the effort was not successful. In 1 87 1, there being no reason for longer separation, negotiations for reunion began on the part of the Methodist Church. In 1877, a Convention of each Church met, in Balti- more, and aftc a careful discussion a basis of union was fixed. The Conventions, on a pleasant day in May, filed from the churches where they had met to the corner of Lombard and Fremont streets, and thence walked arm in arm to Starr Church. The next day the Methodist Church ceased to exist being re- absorbed by the Methodist Protestant Church after a separation of twenty years. It had gathered seven hundred and fifty-eight preachers of both classes, and fifty-eight thousand members. It had a Book Concern in Pittsburg and a college at Adrian, Mich, Meanwhile, the Protestant Church had suffered severely by the war. The paper at Baltimore lost more than half its circula- tion. The Secretary of War allowed it, on account of its strictly neutral character, to be forwarded to the souihern lines by way of Fortress Monroe, under a flag of t^uce, but was not sent beyond those lines and it soon ceased to be forwarded. At the General Conference in Georgetown. t362, the southern Conferences were unable to attend, and, before the war was over, the southern churches were burned or ruinously neglected. At the same place, in 1862, another General Conference was held with quite a full representation. At this Conference, a reso- lution was passed of acquiescence in the state of the country, and acknowledging the existing government as the true and lawful ruling power of this nation, and advising prayers for its welfare, "that we may lead quiet and peaceable lives, in all godliness and honesty." 1 : i ■'.1'' '"'-• m 1 ' 'V * ' -'v' ■: 'f\ •. .■■';■■' :-l- ■< ■; ■ ■ ' A-j,:>; 'i':l'^ii ; ' •''S\ ,1 ■;," i '-■'^ I'^i Ifli.f?'.!! '.'i j22 THE STORY OF METHODISM. The M. E. Church South had now adopted the scheme of the M. P. Church for lay reprej^ontation, and there were ijrounds of sympathy between the two bodies, partly from having both alike suffered severely from the war. In 1867, Bishop McTyeire, of the Church South, communicated, through the Rev. Dr. Deems, overtures from the General Conference of his own Church, look- ing to a union of the two bodies and proposing the appointment from each of commissioners to consummate such union. A Convention was called to consider the matter, and to this came commissioners from the Church South who proposed the union aforesaid. After careful examination, there were found fifteen points of dififercnce between the two Churches. The commission- ers had been appointed, not to adjust difT^ ;nces, but simply to receive into their Church the M. P. Church as a body. In this way the scheme failed and no farther action w ever taken, though many ministers and Churches afterwards seceded and joined the Church South. In 1870, Doctors Eddy and Lanahan, from the Methodist Episcopal Church, visited the General Conference in Baltimore, bearing fraternal greetings, and asking in view of sameness of doctrine and ot historic memories, if there could not be a closer bond of union. It was agreed that there be interchange of dele- gates, avoidance of irritating controversy and cooperation in missionary work. Delegates from the Church South were treated with like courtesy. At the General Conference of 1874, legislation was asked on the sale and use of whisky. To this it was answered that the settled policy of tho Church was not to legislate on moral and political subjects. That belongs to the local organizations. Since the union with the Methodist Church, in 1877, the name and policy of the Methodist Protestant Church remain the same. It has a Book Concern in Baltimore, and a paper, The Meth- odist Protestant, and one in Pittsburgh, The Methodist Recorder. At Westminster, Md., a college was founded, in 1867, which provides for a certain amount of thcoligical study. There is a college at Yadkin, N. C, an 1 at Bowclon, Ga., besides that at Adrian, Mich., which came to it from the IVIethodist Church. At the present time, the Methodist Protestant Church reports fifteen hundred traveling, and a thousand local, preachers, with Till-; MKI'IIODIST rRol'KSlANr ("lirUl II. 5^3 of the ids of alike ire, of )cems, , look- [-itmcnt 311. A is came I union fifteen nission- mply to In this 1- taken, led and [cthodist altimorc, cness of a closer of dele- ation in c treated asked on that the loral and hizations. [he name [he same. Jic Mdh- XRccordcr. 7, which here is a that at lirch. [h reports crs, with one hundred and thirty thousand members. Its position in the land and amon^^ other Churches is excellent. If, U^r reasons that appear in this outline, it has not the mac;nitude that some other Methodist bodies have reached, it is none the less respectable. In some happy day, when all Methodism shall be a unit, it will blend and bless its kindred. URST MEETING-HOUSE IN OHIO I ; 'f.i mn% m^ ■'f :";e; ,■ ','ii > :,.(.' . w mi mi fi! «>.' yi* ca « o CHAPTER XLIII. Lav Delegation axd the Pacific C(jast. o in 00 M H tJ O < V^^,, UCH was the feeling after the ^rcjani- zation of the Methodist Protestant Church that the question of lay rep- resentation in the M. E. Church was hardly named for twenty year... Just before the General Conference met in 1852, a convention of laymen was held in Philadelphia to devise a mode of bringing it once more before the Church. The ground of such ac- tion was the profit and adv. .. age thereby to be gained in the Church councils ; no allusion was made to any abstract rights, and no doctrinary argument was used. This pre- sentation of the case was wise and fortunate. Dr. Thomas IC. Bond, of Baltimore, one of the ablest men in the Church, and a formid- able opponent of the radicals, who had demanded such representa- tion as a right, warmly sympathized with them, regarding it as a use- ful expedient and advocating it as a help to the Annual Conference. In 1852, the petitions of the laymen were denied, and at the next General Conference, in 1856, the)- were disregarded. In 1 860, such progress had been made that a vote, both lay and ministerial, was ordered to be taken ui)on the measure within two years. This vote was not favorable, but the laymen who led the movement were irrepressible. 526 TIIK STORY OF MKTIIODIS.M. Jiifi ■ P'^'i i •; 1 A journal of hii(li character, Tkc Methodist, was started to advocate the cause, and Zioii s Herald, of Boston, and the Nortk- wcstcni Advocate, of CIiicaL(o, dechired in its favor. In 1863, a lar<^e Convention of laynun was held in New York, and, in 1864, another was held in Philadelphia at the same time with the session of the General Conference, so as to present at once a petition. The same process of convention and petition was repeated at Chicago in 1868. At this last date, a lay and ministerial vote was ordered and provision was made that, if the vote proved favorable, delegates should be chosen so as to take their seats at the General Conference of 1872. Very favorable was the vote, the laity voting for the meas- ure two to one, and more than three- fourths of the minis- terial vote being in the affirmative. The new order was intro- duced at Brooklyn in 1872, and laymen took their seats with powers equal to those of the ministerial del- egates. Two laymen are chosen from each Annual Conference, DR. THOMAS E. BOND. uulcss the Conference has but one ministerial delegate, in which case there is but one lay delegate. The lay delegates are chosen at the session of the An- nual Conference next preceding that of a General Conference. \\-\c\\ circuit or station chooses a delegate to the Electoral Con- ference, as it is called, and this body chooses the delegates to the General Conference. The next interesting event, in order of time, as our Story goes, is the entrance of Methodism upon the Pacific coast. The Flathead Indians of Oregon had heard from traders of some "great book" which gave the white man his superior power I If ' ' * !, " I.AV DELEGATION AXlJ THE PACIFIC COAST 527 ted to North- [863, a \ 1864, session letitioii. ated at 'ote was vorable, General A 1872. ble was lie laity he meas- one, and n three- he minis- being in ive. The M-dA intro- ooklyn in laymen cats with il to those crial del- o laymen Vom each nference, nferencc iit one la>- the An- nferencc. ral Con- es to the lur Story Bt. traders of [or power and character. Four of them started upon the long journey to the East to learn the truth of the account, and see if they could get the benefit of the book. They were four months in the passage from Oregon to St. Louis. Making known their errand to General Clarke, of the Lewis and Clarke expedition, they called out great interest among Christian people and went back, two of them having died at St. Louis, assured that a knowledge of the Book should soon be given them by living teachers. There was, at that time, attending school at VVilbraham, under Dr. Fisk, a Canadian, Jason Lee, preparing to give his life to missionary work among the Indians of Canada, in the employ of the British Wesleyan Missionary Society. To such work he was well fitted. He was strong, prudent, clear of head and courageous in enterprise. Dr. Fisk heard of the errand of the Flathcads and was at once sure that Lee was their man. Lee did not wait for a second call. He started at once, taking from St. Louis the trail of the Fur Company and spending the summer of 1834 in his journey to the Columbia. The site chosen for his mission was on the Willamette, twelve miles below the present city of Salem. Here he labored for two years and made a very hopeful beginning. In 1838, he returned to the East and devoted a year to securing aid for his mission. Then, with a large company of settlers, as well as missionaries, he went back to Oregon by way of Cape Horn. The effort was in good time, not only for the good of the Indians, but quite as much for thiit of the whites. The splendid region was now rapidly filling with settlers, and soon Lee had the "Oregon Manual Labor School," near Salem, and a large attendance of Indian children. He had selected this place at the request of the Hudson's Bay Fur Company, they wishing him to be outside of British territory, which they then claimed to be bounded by the Columbia river. The other missionaries formed centers of settlements. In 1842, steps were taken to form a territorial government. The whites numbered only two hundred and forty, but by the energy of the missionaries and the timely aid of their Presbyterian brethren the authorities were aroused to the importance of saving Oregon to the United States. The American claim to the region rested on the Louisiana 28 THE STORV OV METHODISM. i„i! iJ ill f iiiiii:! «. 'I i '- M I purchase from r>ancc, which was held to go as far north as 54. deg. 40 mill. The British claim rested on discovery, on occupa- tion of Vancouver, and on the sale of Astoria to the Hudson's Bay Company by Astor's agent. At length, in 1846, an agree- ment was made, fixing at 49 deg. north latitude. It is understood that the missionaries saved the region to the United States. They certainly "pre-empted a vast region to IVIethodism." In 1848, the Oregon and California Mission Conference was established, embracing within its limits the entire Pacific slope, and William Roberts was put in charge of it. He had already been two years in the country, had explored California and founded a Church at San Francisco, a little town then half Spanish. The region embraced in Roberts' charge now contains five states and six or seven Conferences. He served in the Northwest fully thirty years, making for himself a record most creditable for energy, prudence and fidelity. He then settled in Portland in the heart of the land for the benefit of which he had labored. Mean- while, the Manual Labor School has become, by change of property and place, the Willamette University at Salem. In 1 849, a man of singular skill in the management of Indians, J. H. Wilbur, came into Oregon. The fond and reverent title of "Father" he has worn among them for a life-time. In Oregon, to-day, the Methodists far outnumber any other denomination. Closely connected with the coming of Methodism into Oregon is its coming into California, boon after Roberts had formed a Church in San Francisco, gold was discovered, and a rush from the East, such as the world had not seen since the Crusades, began. If ever "emigration tends to barbarism," it surely did in those days. Gains, expenditures and wastes were enormous. The miners grew wild and the state of society was alarming. It was time for heroic exertion. Not a day was lost. The Roman v^atholics had thirty-one "Missions" before Roberts had, in 1847, formed the first Protestant organization in California, that at San Francisco, a society of six persons. In 1848, Isaac Owen and William Taylor, now Bishop of Africa, were sent out. Taylor is said to have bought, before starting, a church and to have had it shipped from Baltimore to San Francisco. The next spring, Roberts had the timber for a church split «'■' " I I.AV DKl.KC.VlloN AND IIIK I'ACII-U" ((WST 5^9 as 54. cupa- dson's rstood They cc was slope, already ounded 1. ins five >rthwest able for d in the Mean- .ange of Indians, t title of Oregon, ation. Oregon tbrmcd a sh from |s, began. in those IS. The It was Roman in 1847. t at San |ishop of before limore to irch split out and shaved in Oregon (there was no saw-mill between the North Pole and the Isthmus) and came down with his timber. Houses of an)' kind were then few; the fast-coming throngs of gold seekers were living in tents. A lot was taken on Powell street and on it began the erection of the first Protestant church in California, and there to-day stands the fitly-named First Methodist Episcopal Church, the third church building erected on the same site. September 21, 1849, Taylor arrived, and the little company gave him a hearty greeting. Mr. Owen came overland and be- gan preaching, under a tree in Grass Valley, on the same day when Ta)'lor began his min- istry in San Francisco. Owen reached Sacra- mento about the mid- dle of October, and to that place Taylor's Baltimore church w\is shipped, becoming the second Protestant edi- fice in the land. It arrived before Owen, and a lot had been taken, in which he preached under a tree. Pointing to the lumber, he said: "We will oc- cupy our new church next Sunday," and so he did. The church at San Francisco was now dedicated, but what church ever held William Ta\lor? He went to the rudest, most crowded corners, for his "parish" meant every place that he could reach, and to the mines and villages. Like the early missionary at Malmesbury, like so many in the great Methodist movement, his voice was his church bell. It rang out far and clear "The Royal Proclamation," publishing to every 34 FIRST M. E. CHURCH, SAN KKANCISCO. The third church buildint^ erected on the same site 1',' '♦•I '..I '• '!■) i ",:■;,• .,r. n i " '<,'': ' ' t ' ■- 1 ?■■''■ . '- 530 iiii-; sr(>R\' or mkiiiodism. creature the L^iad tidiiiL^s of salvation. W'esle}' never had twe) preachers more acti\e than ()\\en and TaN-lor. keh'L;ion seemed to take on an ener_L;\' eciual to Mammon's, \\liich is saxini; much, at least for those times. Men hej^an to preach who had nex'er l^efore felt, or heeded, their call. Laymen in the minini.; cam])s formed societies and conducted the meetings. JAPANESE M. E. MISSION, SAN FRANCISCO. Those familiar with such a state of societ>' as hunger for gold ])roduces on a frontier can understand how salutarx' were thesr gracious eHorts. The next \'car came helpers, the Revs. Simonds, Bannistei and Briggs. Bannister inaugurated the educational work 1>\ opening a school at San Jose. In the following year, the Uni\ersit\ of the Pacific was chartered at Santa Clara, and Bannister was in \..\\ i)i:i.i.(;.\ri(t\ and nii: rvciii (• COAST J.-* l1 l\v*» noil's, >iin l*> ;\\Mncn ctiivjfs. cliai-i;c of it. ( )tlu'r |)rLMclu'rs arrived, and, in iS^j. California and ()rci;(in tornu'd si-paratr Annual ContcrrncL's. California itsilt. lias since In-rn dividi'd. {\\c southern p.irt of tin- state hax-iiiL; beeoiiK' populous. Both Conferences contain about fd'teen tliou- saiul members. I here is a iiook I )epositor\" w itii a well sustained dvocate. riu' rni\ersily of S.)ullu'rn California has just I'Ule'red .\nL;eles. Methodism has the credit of ha\inL; sa\etl the state to freedom and of h.ixin;^ miti^ati'd the barbarism ot its ruiUst p^'riod. I<'or a loni; time it was ecpial to ui)on its career at 1. Ifor ^oh\ :re Ih e>t.' hannister k bv Ivor Iniversitx •r was in JAPANESE CEAsS, JAPANESE MISSION, SAN FRANCISCO. all other Protestant denominations toL;ethcr. It ijrappled promptl)' with the Chinese Question, and it is natural to connect its Chinese work there with its own plantin;^ and trainini;' on the coast. Chinese- laborers and traders were earh' drawn to California, and an overfull home-land could easily spare as man\' as could ,<;et footing;" in the new countrx'. They broui;ht with them tluir virtues of industry, (piietude and thrift, ami found abundant em- plo\-ment in a i;reat variety of callinL;s — from mining;' to household serx'ice and the laundr\'. The\' of course broui;ht with them their heathenism and its train of \ices. Xow tlie heathen were mmmm 53-^ •niK SroRV OK .MKllloliISM. not only at our doors, but positively cntcrin<^ them. The fcciinfrs of other Churches were aroused, antl Christian efforts in the behalf of these stran^^ers were be,L;un. In iS6S, Otis (libsrtn, who had been for ten years missionary at I''uh Chau, China, was transferred to California. In two years Ivj had succeeded in so awakinjf ainont^ the Christian people of the coast a sense of duty to these heathen in their midst that money was yiven and schools, both Sunda\' and evening, were or- ganized. Soon a good mission-house was built on Washington street. 'Iwo of its stories arc for school-rooms and a chapel. ! The third story is the ' asylum, managed for the benefit of females. It is a valuable prop- erty and stands like an oasis of life and ver- dure to cheer and save a poor, weary, much- abused race. Its pres- ent value is thirty thou- sand dollars. It is often hap- pening that tourists, at San Francisco, visit China Town merely to see ho w \\' retched heathen can be in their vices, their darkness REV. M. c. HARRIS. and despair, and the most morbid hankering for misery can there be gratified. It is better for the taste and for the heart to visit the Mission. There one will find the morn rising bright and hopeful. At this date, 1887, the missionar\', the Rev. T. J. "'^a-^' rs, is ,1 man long in China in the service of the luiglish We .^ociet\', and knowing well the dialect of the emigrants, and a lo cany on the wise and skillful work which Dr. Gibson, by failing iiea! h, has been obliged to drop. He has Mrs. Masters and Mrs. Walker as as- sistants, with four teachers and six native helpers. There are seventy members of the Church and three hundred scholars in the schools. LAV 1)|;i.i,(;aiio\ ami iiik I'Aciiir « i>a>1'. 533 in the lionary ) years oplc oi 1st that /ore or- hini^ton chapel. :y is the ,';j*-%sii^p^^sis*,j>fr^^^ REV UTIS GIBSON, l). U. UM mTu u H ' :!:■; '!■ ' ; • 1 . ■ ' WESLEY MONUMENTAL CHURCH. SAVANNAH, (lEORGlA. M'A *T '■ 'J m 'KM A -J .'I '■»":-»l CHAITKR XLIV. TiiK MKTiioDisr Ki'iscoi'Ai, CiiUKCii Soirii. ORIC the most serious dix'ision .'U. has ever occurred in American ethodism, the separation of the Church South, a secession had taken ice for a reason precise!)' opposite to tnat which caused the hitter. In 1833, the American Anti-slavery So- cictv was formed, and the llame of abohtion sentiment beL;an to bhaze. The best men of the Church were holdiiv^ different views, botli as to the expediency of abohtion and the competency of the Church to deal with the matter. 'Ihe efforts of one class and the resistance of the other caused contro- versy and, in 1S43, several ministers withdrew from the Church. b\)remost of these was Orange Scott, of the New iMi^huui Con- ference; with him were others of marked ^tiaii and brotherls- greetings of the new Church. "We will stih be brethren beloved." The next General Conference of the M. I'. Church was of temper different from the last. It gave Lovick Pierce no oiT«-l,i! recognition; it repudiated the so-called Plan of Sc[)aratioii. i:^ J . 1 1 tup: METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH SOUTH. 539 Pierce's last words were that the next advance must come from the North, but friendly overtures could be renewed by the northern Church at any time. The Church South brought suit in the Supreme Court of the United States to recover the property conceded in the Plan of Separation. The decision was that neither of the existing Churches could claim to be the original Church ; that the Church South had not seceded, that it was simply a territorial convenience without change of doctrine or usage, and that the northern Church was precisely the same. The Court, therefore, ordered an equitable division of all properties, seeing that in its view the separation was by an agreement of both parties and the properties had been created and held by both before separation. Thus the affair was consummated. The Church South had a rich endowment of the true spirit of Methodism. As we have seen, the early preachers found on its territory their most heroic field, and in general their most grati- fying success. Its living preachers had more of preaching gifts than their brethren of the North. There was every prospect of steady growth in all the Church interests. Nor has the pros- pect proved vain and delusive; yet the Church South has, in fact, had a hard road to travel. Almost as soon as it had come into working order came the wide and ruinous war. In 1S44, the number of communicants was four hundred and fift}' thousand. In i860, there were seven hundred and fifty-seven thousand two hundred and five, of whom more than one-fourth were colored. In 1872, the number was six hundred and fifty-four thousand one hundred and fifty-nine, and of these less than one in two hundred were colored. This came of the fact that the colored people had chosen to join other Methodist Churches, usually those of their own people. One of these Churches is the colored M. K. Church in America. Before the war, we see that more than two hundred thousand colored people were in the Church South. These were chiefly slaves who were in many states not allowed to hold meet- infjs bv themselves. As soon as the war was over, and the\' were tree, they chose to be in societies b\' themselves. Some went into the African and Zion, others into"de ole John Wesley Church" — i.e., the Methodist ICpiscopal, of v/iiich they had kept the tradition, and which at once began to introduce schools and \> I f I: t- ! f i . ..■-7*1 * . ' 'J 1 ;-^'J ■I '■ "■■!'..:1 m 1 ■( . ■ 1 1 Ml' .I''. ; I 540 THE STURV (JV METHODISM. Churches amonir them. The leaders of the Church South thought it wiser, for such as remained with them, to form separate Churches. In 1870, the General Conference of the Church South directed its l^ishops to or<4ani/:e a new Church and to ordain for it Bishops when it had elected them. The above-named Church was or<^an- ized at Nashville in 1874. It has five Bishops, six hundred and thirty-eight traveling, and about as many local, preachers and a hundred and twenty-five thousand members. The formation of such a Church accounts for the failure of the Church South to show a rapid increase of numbers. It perfectly agrees in iloctrine and discipline with the Church fron. which it is taken. Its organ is the Christian Index, published at Louisville, and it has some institutions of learning. The trouble of the M. 1*^. Church and of the Church South has usually been along the border. Many societies in Virginia, Kentucky and Missouri, all along the boundary, had minorities opposed to going to the Church South. These minorities sought Church relations with the North. In some cases, as at St. Louis, a society of the M. K. Church was organized soon after the sepa- ration. In Missouri, the two Churches have each three Confer- ences ; the M. \i. Church counting about fifty thousand members, and the Church South a much larger number. St. Louis was a test place. When, in 1845, Bishop Morris was solicited to organ- ize a Conference in Missouri as against the Missouri Conference of the Church South, he declined to do it. He held that he was bound by the Plan of Separation not to enter the state to organ- ize a Missouri Conference, while the Church South already had a Conference of the same name and on the same territory. As we said, the General Conference of 1848, repudiated the Plan (rightly or wrongly), at the petition of less than three thousand members along the border. It could not be otherwise than that the people of two Churches like these M. \\. Churches should be prominent in the war. They had for membership the numbers, strength and activity of the nation. In the North, the M. \\. Church was first of all to send to President Lincoln assurance of loyal support, and first of all to congratulate President Johnson at its successful close. During thi; war no other Church had so many soldiers in the THE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH SOUTH. 541 ^Tw 4 K m ^ '.'■'! ' .*(,■■' . ' ^,^' . ought jaratc rectcd ishops or gall- ed and ; and a tion of )Uth to loctrinc s organ s some H South Virginia, inoritics 5 sought t. Louis, he scpa- Confcr- cmbcrs, is was <} organ- nfercncc he was organ- ly had a As wo [(rightly licmbcrs Ihurchcs Ihc war. Itivity ot )f all to first of |1 close, in the service, and Bishop Simpson was often called to give advice and encouragement, Lincoln called it well nigh the National Church. In the South, the record of the other Church was of the same quality. As Lincoln said of the northern Church, so Davis might have said of the southern : " It sent more soldiers to the field and more nurses to the hospitals than any other religious body." As the war fared on, the armies of the North came into pos- session of cities of military importance and in such the clergy were forbidden to pray for the success of the Confederacy. General Butler, in New Orleans, pro- claimed that such acts would be treated by martial law, as " firing the southern hea'"t" and encour- aging the Confeder- ates to prolong the war. Of course many Churches were closed and some of these belonged to the Church South. Stanton, Secretary of War, ordered that in the Department of the Southwest all Churches belonging to the M. K. Church South be placed at the disposal of Bishop Ames, of the M. 1-'. Church, on the ground of the advantage coming to the nation from such loyal sentiments as his appointees would inculcate, and all com- manders were to give to such appointees "courtesy, assistance and protection." So came the northern Church again into the South. J. P. Newman, a preacher of great eloquence and culture, was put in charge of the Carondelet Street Church, one of the finest in all the South, and "northern" worship was there held by a large and ABRAHAM LINCOLN. *■' .11 1> %\ W- ■ > ' it. '.r-r ; ■: ' t 54: Till-; STORV OF METHODISM. intelligent congregation. This was a painful sight to southern Methodists. Military use of churches was no new thing, but this military possession of their property by the northern preachers was more bitter than anything else that the war had brought them. Yet without such occupation the houses would have been empty. The sense of invasion and the days of sourness left by the war led to many an outrage upon northern preachers and teachers who. holding that peace had opened all the country for settlement, came to labor for southern populations. Ruffianism took for its special victims the represen- tatives of the M. E. Church, and, though there is no occasion to charge these to the influence of the Church South, they seemed to put far awa)' the day of harmony. It will be re- membered that Lo- vick Pierce had said WP^^ the Church South could never renew the offer of fraternal relations, but wouKl at anytime cordialK' entertain such an offer. In spite of the separation, iri spite of th<,' war and its sequels, there was among the best men of both Churches not only pride of a common ancestry and a love of their common faith and order, but also a sincere desire that fra- ternity, if not union, should be established before those who had seen and been part of the separation and the estrangement should pass from this world. The advance was made by the Bishops of the Methodist Episcopal Church to those of the Church South. In April, 1869, the former held a meeting at Meadville, Pennsylvania, and felt JEFFERSON UAVIS uthern mt this :achcrs )rought /e been left by crs and ntry for >ffianism , special epresen- le M. E. I, though occasion these to cc of the uth, they put far clay of il be re- that Lo- 1: had said rly) that h South cr renew fraternal ,ut would cordially ite of tho of both a love of that fra- who had bnt should [ethodist )ril, 1869. and felt TilK MF.THODIST Kl'ISCOl'AL CHURCH SOlTH. 543 themselves justified by action of the General Conference at Chicago the )'ear before (providing for the treatment of any other Methodist Church that might desire union with them) in making overture of intercourse looking to reunion. Hishops Janes and Simpson conveyed this overture to the Bishops of the Church South, who met in May, 1869. To this the latter made a fair repl\', alluding, among other things, to the work of the no rthern missionaries and atients in the Scjuth as tendini to disintegrate and absorb our societi es. In 1870, Bishop Janes and Dr., the late Bishop, Harris \isited the General Conference of the Church South at Memjjhis. llie)- were courteously received. The Church South felt that fraternity must be looked for where it was lost, and suggested that a recognition of the original Plan of Separation, which was the basis of the Church South, and which we saw repudiated by the Northern Church, would be a true and proper be- ginning. The Methodist Epis- copal General Conference of 1872 appointed Drs. Hunt and Eowler and General Fisk to bear Christian greetings to that of the Church South, to be held, in 1S74. at Eouis\ille. These men were warmly received. A similar deleg.ition was ap- pointed by the Church South. Thac same Lo\ick Pierce, now \enerable with )'ears (he died four years after, at ninet)'-five), who had, in 1848, said that last word in sorrow, not in anger. Dr. Duncan of Virginia, and Chancellor Garland of Vanderbilt Uni- \ersity, were made delegates on a like errand to the Methodist ICpiscopal General Conference, in 1876, at Baltimore. Five ct)m- niissioners were also appointed to meet a similar commission from the North to fix a Plan of Harmony and Peace. It was in 1876, the centenary of national life, that the GENERAL CLINTON B. FISK :'' if '«/^'*i .:i' :-;'^'i^ m m S : ,1 * m 'A- 1 ''\\ \ ■' f^ n 1 •,-■>< 544 THE STORY OF METHODISM. reconciliation was tnadc a fact. The twelfth of May in that year is a clay to remember. In a vast gathering over which Bishop Janes presided, Dr. Duncan and Chancellor Garland were intro- duced to the General Conference. A letter from Dr. Pierce, who had fallen sick on his journey, was first read. He protested against the current phrase, "two Methodisms." "There is but one Pvpiscopal Methodism, and you and we make it up." Dr. Duncan then gave a memorable address. To him fraternity was to be an end of strife, an exchange of discord for harmony, when, walking in the light, as Christ is in the light, men have fellowship one with another, and cease from petty strifes and bitter words. Then Chancellor Garland spoke briefly and the Conference was moved to tears of very gladness. The Rubicon was repassed. In August of the same year, the joint commission already spoken of met at Cape May. There were five in each committee, men well versed in the matters to be discussed, men of clear head and Christian temper. It was stated by the southern committee that they could treat only on the basis of the ancient Plan of Separation, to which the northern committee made no objection. It was also declared that each Church has its origin in the Meth- odist P^piscopal Church organized in 1784, and is a lineal repre- sentative of the same. Rules were then framed for the settlement of ownership of all Church properties, transfers of titles and the like. So happy were these Rules, which we need not here give, and so just and generous the temper in which they were applied, that in every case of titles to property in New Orleans and else- where the final vote was put on record as unanimous. The proceedings of this Cape May Commission were published in full, and as these were final, and also approved by the highest authority of each Church, they are of great and abiding value. "P^phraini shall no longer vex Judah nor shall Judah any longer envy Ephraim." The relation of the Church South to the colored people of its region is peculiar and interesting. It is pardonable, seeing our Story is to give our colored brethren as well as others an easy, accurate and readable view of Methodism, here to rehearse what the Church has done for them. We shall see that it has done for them more than all other agencies together. When Mr. Wesley was on his return from Georgia to England, THE METHODIST EPISCOl'AL CHL'KCII SOUTH. 545 It year Bishop : intro- ;e, who otcstcd but one Duncan ;o be an walking hip one . Then s moved already mmittee, Icar head ommittee t Plan of objection . [he Mcth- il reprc- ttlcmcnl and the ere give, applied, and else- US. The ed in full, authority Kphraini ger envy people of Seeing ouv an easy, larse what done f•«■■■ ■A ir I "M . 'M m t w .r 546 'JIIK SI'OKV OK MKIIIODISM. a reform in morals wluri-vcr the missionary came with his preach- in^', his Siiiulay-schuols and his personal exhortations. lV)l)'!4am\' antl the other \ices of b.irbarism. with theft, and other \ices of civilization, tlisajjpeared, and jjcace, order and honesty took their place. Preachers were raised uj) who (whate\er the statute-book mi^ht sa\') could read well and preach well. There was man\' an Uncle Tom, devout and faithful, amon^ the hardships of plantation life. The piety of the slaves proved equal to the severe trials of the war. They mii;ht have risen anil wasted the planta- tions with sword and flame, as their here ln-athen coun- try-men had done in some of the West India islands. The lea\en of Christianity had worked amont( them and the}- had learned to labor and to wait, thou'di the\- intenseh- loni>i iiriscdiwi. ( iii k( ii mh iii. 547 ciich- CCS <»f ; their :-book many ips of rials of ,t have planta- flanie, 11 covm- somc of s. The ity had ,-m and ibor and ntensely . 'rhu> harvest Metb- iid been the war, was in on. it id swe\)t 'hurches terprises d to bi: ame for- Lve seen, its own luirch in the poor cliiUhvn. and often wild, sclf-inchil^^ent and improvident. Hut thi')- had an achnirabic reeord with both the contenthiiL; parties. Ihey hail so behaved as U) rcihice the liorrors of war, and both North aiul South feh kindly and <;rateful towards them. Xever hail a people of slaves so conducted thrmsilves in a crisis so terrible. It w.is, then, onlv just that the various Christian bodies of the North should iM-omjjtly come to the relief of a needy ami worthy people, and so they all have done. In this work the best minds of southern men have aU(h tlu," fact in the Uniteil States! One Methodism, like the banyan tree of Inhl\--t 'ect- i\e condition. it lias f)ur ilei)artments — of Theology, Law, Medi- cine and Philosophy, the latter including Science antl Literature, and is ampl\' furnishetl with L'ni\ersil\- ai)pli- ances .md resources. Its site includes se\'ent\' li\e acres just east of tile cit\-, and its build- ■^■"^ ti ^ ."^"' 1 i> 1 J HI pa 1 to i UlgS CO St c y hundred HON. A. H. COLQIITT tliousami ('ohars. L. C. tjarland, LL. D., has been Chancellor from ill' beginning. Besides this, the Churcli South lias over thirty colleges of less or greater degree, some of which have recowi-ed hom the ruinous effects of the war. There are also other schools .md academies. 'The Church Soulh im^ foreign missions in China. Mexico, lirazil and German)-. It has beyond its original sla\'e territory Conferences in Califor lia, iJregon, Colorado, Kansas ami Illinois. 'These came on tlu- track of emigration tVom its old home. .\s 1) ' itH M is . I f f ■■■ « .?'- i ' 33^ THK STORY OF MKIIH >I)IS.M. yet, it has cjaincd little beyond this emis^rated membership. One of its own authorities states that all the North and half the South — i. e., includin'-four thousand, li\in<; l).irtl\' in Geor!j;ia and Alabama. lie gained the ^ood-will of Mcintosh, a half-breed and leader of the tribe, and, a council bei.i(j held, the mission was allowed. " Asbury Mission" was n, liv'^ >Jh' n\ )iM ,' I" m. mi'< M'' nil' \ (■ « -.J „u. > Z? N 55' rili; SIORV OF MKIU()I)I>.M. bctjim, tlu)ii'rh ]V\[i Warrior, an influential chief, and the srovern- niL'it a_L;cni, matic xij^orous opposition. A wise and patient teachc. .'ided by his wife, openi'il a school and inau|^uratei.l tlie seconti .\Iethodist mission. Tlu- school was very successful. One l)o\'. be^inniiiL; with his alphabet, in three months read the New Testament. Children were learninL,^ to pra\-, and the prospect was \er)- cheering;'. rreachin<; was o|)posed b\- the aj^ents ami by wicked whites. Mcintosh did all he could for it, aiul .i few sermons uiuler his protection hid a lar^e hearing;, but soon ])ri-achinLj had to be suspended. C.ilhoun, Secretary of War, then ordered the ai;"ent to :-;i\e "deciiled countenance and support to the Methodist mis- sion. C rowel o be\-ed, but there were obstructions. S( )on iu)We\er, there were coinersions, some of them \er\' .iffectiuL;, and in I Sj(), there were twentv-four Christian Indians antl tw ice as many bl.icks — also a few wliites — in membership. i'A'en this success w as house, and bi'lore six months tlu're was .i class (if thirt)--three, Kile)- bein;.;- leatler. in December of that )'ear, beiiiL; api)ointed missii)nar)', he opened there a schodl ot twent)'-ti\-e. and in this and in his meetini^s conwrsions occurred. Hetoji.' the )earwas out, the he.U'enl)- L,M'ace was am])l)' shown. .\t a camp-met'tin^L;, thirt)--one were coinerled, and at the ch the meelin!4 thirt)- came to the altar and bei^Lied to be told how the)' Could like these be hajjp)' in the fa\or of the Creat Spiiit Tl le meotiULJ was resumed and a wealtlu' Indi ui oft'ered to speii his last dollar in in.iintaininL! it MKIIIODISM A.Mi».\(. IIIK INDIAN^ AM) MoRMoNS. 553 Xcvcr (lid such results conic so chcapl)-. The whole cost of the mission was two huiulred dollars, and, at the end of the \-ear, there were one hundred and eiijht members and man\- childri'U were reading' the Testament. Co(»d\-, an Indian a hundred mil e> i"Oot^ id the rhis im war- near |w.i> a thai lurred. hown. u- oi d h"\\ ISi^irit iiend oK(^R(;k (jurss. aw ay center. became a.n exhorter and his house became a reliuioi i> In 1S26, Cieori^e duess, an Indian, invented an alphabet, ai event of curious interest to studmts of the Scit'uce o) l.anuua'je 33 4 'IIIK STORY OF MKIlloDISM. . . .' ' n f ■ ; . It I'cprL'scntccI tlicir spcccli h» scvcnt)'-six characters, each L^i\inij a s\ liable. 'I'iie help which it s^^ave to tile (iospel was \er\' _L;reat. Soon anion_L,f their seventeen thousand peoi)le were cii^fht hunclrt-'d and fiftx-five nienibers, se\'enteen preachers and f[w schools. There were I iw LTovernnient and a wee ■Ay news])ai)ei Then came a series of events at which e\er}' patriot nuist blush. A clerf tl c h u re leir own numl)er art' n-oiii I) u 1 1 (1 I n l;s. the Church South antl the Ami'rican l^oard. The Ann'rican Hoaid had jjrioritx' of the Methodists in m issions anionij the Choctaws al so. ( )f these there were tueiif thousand in Mississippi. William Winans, himself the chief ot Mississippi Methodism, bei^aii work amoni; them in iSj6. bii: w 1 th little result. At lemjth. under Tallex', in iSjS, at a cam meelm; a converted, and soon l)real 1 < occurret Lall ore, 1. l''our chiefs, anion^' others, w en- tile lu'ad chief, and six other chief-' f. ollowed .MEllloDlSM AM(.)N(; IIIK INDIANS AND M(>K.M()\>. 35! pvinjT nulrccl ;ho()ls. Then .h. A c their vj, ;uul iKtl tor I41. thi- L' lUMNcn Miinl (it L'ndt-T ;uiil;incc •a ihcm- t(i ihcir lul there u-ith the Is. the\' twentx - and are lape lit people. Kill law- n ni e n I, >ehtlists in (.■ t\\ent\- chiet" lit a canni- er W 111' :lnet". lUl'TISM RY TORCH I.ICHT AM()N(. lllK l.NniAN.s. say. are Indians no loiiL^er, nnless in eonipiex'ion and featnre. I'"ifty }'ears of rehj^ions labor have made theni no more aliens and toreiL;iiers, hut fellow -citi/.ens. Tlieir ont^-ide help is from the Chnrch Sonth — i.e., their Methodist helj). ami the same (,'hureh has mi.ssions to the Seminoles .md other tribes of the terrilor\'. Ill .dl it has nearl)- ten thons.md members. in one corniM' of the territory, amon;^ the Poncas antl lawnees, and other tribal remnants, the Methodist I'.piscopal Church has si-ven small missions, counting; one hundred and sixty iiiniHt]'iiX'«i In i;\:.|;^i^M'l I]' I 'I ■l ■■'■{' I ■■ i ;< t'S ;t 55'^ rilK SIORV OF MKriloDlSM. members, and about seven liuiulred attendants on worship. These are "wild Indians." Mrs. (iaddis, their self-sacrificing^ friend, says: "I saw men and women kneel to itlols (stuffed skins of wild ^rccse) and offer their L^arments in seicrifice, while their tears and cries were terrible. And this within seventy-five miles of the Kansas line, while we explore Africa to find heathen !" She now, itSS/, is cheeted with success. Ihe Six Nations, once so powerful throutjfh the center of the state of New York, have been visited by Methodism. The Mohawks, after the Revolution in which, under Brandt, they had aided the liritish. retired after the war to Canada. Colonel lirandt, a L;raduate of Dartmouth, was not a Christian, but his dauL^hter, Mrs. Kerr, was a believer, and patriotic in her desires for ChristianitN- amoni;- her people. In kSO/, two of her people were baptized, one beint^ Mrs. Jones, whose son became the greatest of Indian preachers. In 1822, Alvin Torrey was sent from the Genesee Conference to visit these Mohawks. At this time, SENECA MissKjN HOUSE lUJi'iALo )'ounLj Scth Crawforcl. RESERVATION. y^^,-^^,^ ^^.j^,^ ^^^^^^ ^^.^, moved to learn their speech and give his labor for their welfare. In his meetings, in 1823, a revival broke out like a flame, and twcnt\- were C(3nverted in the little settlement, and the work spread td others. Soon, Peter Jones, called a Mohawk, a Chii)peway, or a Mississanngah, as the tribes were now blending, now tvv'enty-one, began to speak with trembling and brevity, but with power. Me was stately to loc^k upon aiul afterwards an I'^nglish lady of ftM'tune accepted him as her husband. The }-oung cvang''';ist found fiercr opposition from the heathen, the \ile whites, and the traders with their whisk)-, but he soon had one hundred and fifty believers. When the Indians, in 1825, received their government annuities, he and his brethren tented b\- themselves, and, in place of a drunken frolic, spent their time in instruction and prayer. The other Indians gathered around, and crowds of whites came to look on. Jones was educated, and he would in prcachin;.]; 1 ^« ,1. ife. MliTHOlJlSM AMONG IHK INDIANS AND MoRMoNb. 557 mn in ■ ,. • chanf^c to l-'n^lish, and thus many w hitcs were converted, and so the ^food work prospered. ^\t length, an ishiiul in Hay Ouinte, hke Holy Island, on the northwest of l'",nt;land, became Christian headquarters, and soon a larger island was occupie( N ew nreacners were raiseti up and mw mission I 'P d aries came. When, in 1.S2S, the Methodism of Canada parteil in peace from that of the states, two thousand adults and fnur hundred children were in the care of the Church. ;\11 the Indian missions in Canad The Oneidas, living in sadly demoralized. Kirt- land, their noble friend, and Scanado, their greates chief were dead, and th entrance 01 sucii populati lati on as foil owetl th e openniLT o the I'lrie canal was a disaster D a n i e 1 A d a m s , a Christian Indian from Can- ada, came to labor with them. He saw more than one hundred converted, and ei<^hty children <;athered into school. Some of the converts went to the Onon- dat^as near by, and soon three chiefs, with others, were there converted. In i«S3i, and soon ol.nkkal u. s. (,kam. after, most of these Indians went to (ireen Ha)', Wis., the niissiun- aries followin<^ on their track. In their old homes about half are Christians, and these have tidy houses aiul fair-lo-, »kin;4 farms. The PaL(ans are still barbarous. We told how four Flathead chiefs had heard from somr trapper of a Book that woidd teach them how to worship Cioil and how they came to St. Louis to get it. Of the Indians in their region now, the Yakimas are the happiest. In 1S69, General Grant being President, and wishing to bring the Indians untler kindly influences, and if possible, to limit the long list of fraud (1 U( "rli.! omm ';^i 55« THE STOKV OF METHODISM. and abuse j^avc the nomination of the Indian aj^cnts to various religious bodies. It was just and wise to put the wards of the nation in the care of their best benefactors, and in some cases the President's aim was fully reached. The Reservation happiest of all has been that of the \'akimas in Washinj^ton Territory. Of these, there are three thousand, on eij^ht hundred thousand acres of excellent land. More than five hundred are members of the Church, and in ten )ears they have Ljiven to its benevolent causes two thousand two hundred and forty-five dollars. "Father" Wilbur, their ajiostle went, in 1887, to his rest but they have twv) comfortable churches, Whisky is almost unknown. About oiu- in ten can read and write and there is a ^ood supply of com- petent mechanics, while ^ood and well-stocked farms abound. Rev. J. L. Burchard I was made a^ent at Round Valley, Califor- ' nia, and, of less than .^ twelve hundred popula- g'tion, nine hundred, were in two }-ears converted, and proved their chani^c by clothinf^, housekeep- ing and industry, such as befitted their new life. What the Lees had done in Oregon, how, among other things they drew emigration from the states and saved Oregon to the nation, has already been told. Closely related to the Indian work for difficulty and for its ai)palling necessity has been that among the Mormons of Utah. There stands in good repair at Kirtland, Ohio, a little south nt the Lake Shore Railroad, the majestic temple first built by the Mormons. It is empty and unused. From it the builders went to Illinois, to Missouri, and at last to Utah. Here they hopeil to be left to their own ways. They were not out of the world. It became necessary to send there a military force to maintain MpyPHODIST CHURCH, SALT LAKE CITY. Ml'/IIIODISM AMONCJ rilK INDIANS ANI> M()|. 559 United States law, and with the army Christians bc^Mii to enter. Especially at the completion of the Tacific Road, in 1S69, when travel was streamini; westward, and " (lentiles were stoppiii<; in the Mormon towns," the time for Methodism seemed to have come, liishop Kin^sley. in that year, preached in the Mormon Temple the first Methodist sermon in Utah. The next year. Rev. Lewis Hartsou^h, bein^ Hible distributor alon^ the railroad, preached in Utah, made W'ahsatch, its first regular api)ointment and, expk)rin^r other towns, found some scattered Methodists. In 1870, Rev. G. M. Pierce be^i^an the mission at Salt Lake City and twelve formed the first class. The first V. 7 . -""'■^'- _: church was built at _ " " -^ j^ Corinne in 1870. A noble edifice was soon reared at the capital, and there is now in its basement and a buildinfj near b)- the Salt Lake Seminar)-, the nucleus of the coming college. Schools are sus- tained in fourteen towns, with over one thousand 1)11 pils. Of these, fully half are of Mormon parentage. The schools are opened with Scripture, singing and prayer, and ^, .^ . ,, THE MORMON TABF;RNACLK, SALT LAKF. CITY. thus, it m no other wa)-, the Mormon youth are reached. Utah is credited with being in a bad way. One Methodist l^ishop calls it "a black land," another says it is "harder than China." There is no public school, and the only hope of redeeming the fair and fertile region from its immorality and ignorance lies in these schools. Methodism has its missions among the remnants of tribes at St. Regis and Gowanda, N. Y., and at various points in Michigan. At Fort Peck, Idaho, is a thriving school, and at Nooksachk, far up Puget Sound, is a mission looking into Alaska. It will be found that Methodism has done its part, since, in 1789, three * m -e-A ^'* •^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) ^P /. k / m u -% ^ :\ \ -^ ^\ Hiotographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 ^ 1.0 hiut 1.4 1 1.6 I.I 1.25 ^ ■ ^n o — ► A 6^ »> 56o THE STORY OF METHODLSM. Indians were returned as members of a class, in rescuing from heathenism and destruction the poor natives of our land. The precise number in its membership to-day cannot be ascertained, but it may be twelve thousand, or about one in twenty of the Indians of to-day. . i ;., The Mormon Hill where Josepii Smith claims to have tound the Plates of the Mormon Bible. ! ij ■ J \ ■ - i. CHAPTER XLVI. Methodism in Africa. |F R I C A , the Dark Continent, we now come to in our story. The first Methodist mission in foreign lands was in Africa. Liberia, on the west coast, came, from a sense of duty, into the possession of the United States. In 1819, Con- gress passed an Act directing the President to establish, in Africa, an agency where Africans, recaptured from slavers, could be taken, sup- ported and protected, until they should be able in some way to care for themselves. Two years later, Lieutenant Stockton, of the U. S. Navy, purchased of native chiefs certain lands in the name of the United States, and these were put in the management of the Colonization Society. The lands, called Liberia, from their intended service to liberty, ex- tend five hundred miles along the coast and back from it fifty to two hundred miles. The country is counted unhealthy on the coast, though stout William Taylor, Methodist Bishop of Africa, declares it as healthy as Newark, N. J. There is in all the world no soil more produc- tive. All tropical growths abound, and cofiee, sugar-cane and the like can be grown to great profit. There are over one million natives, active and decent above the average of Africans. On the high plains inland there is room for people of enterprise. The timber is majestic, the palms are of themselves a source of wealth, and iron is found so pure as to be used by the native blacksmith 36 J !»' k h ' -n 562 THE STORY OF METHODISM. r' i u m ■ y\ i mm without reduction. To this land of hope and freedom were sent five thousand seven hundred and twenty-two recaptured Africans, and of emiirrants, whose expenses were paid by the Colonization Society, fifteen thousand seven hundred and eiij^hty-eight, of whom three thousand seven hundred and ninety went since our war. Could ten thousand of our best black people be sent there, they would find home and happiness, room for all their energies and encouragement to every enterprise. Among these natives and emigrants are various missions, as Presbyterian, I^pis- copalian, Lutheran and Baptist. In 1824, the General Conference was able to take its first look across the sea and declare that it was expedient to send missionaries to Africa whenever the funds of the Mission- ary Society would justify the measure. The dec laration waited six years before it was put into execution. In 1 83 1, ]\Icl- ville B. Cox, of HENRY M. STANLEY. Maine, volunteered as missionary to Africa. " I thirst to be on my way," said he. " I know I cannot live long in Africa, but I hope to live long enough to get there, and, if God please that my bones lie in an African grave, I shall have established such a bond between Africa and the Church as shall not be broken till Africa be redeemed." To a student of the Wcslcyan University, where he was visiting, he said : " If I die in Africa, you must come over and write my epitaph." "I will, but what shall I write?" "Write, 'let a thousand fall before Africa is given up.' " '(H; MKIIIODISM IN Al-RICA. 563 rc sent fricans, nzation f whom var. it there, energies sions, as , Epis- l^utheran 24, the inference 3 take its cross the cUire that )edicnt to onaries to inevcr the Mission- ty woukl measure, a r a t i o n ;x years was put tion. 31, Mel- Cox, ot )Uinteere(.l I" said he. live loni; lie in an 2cn Africa xleemed." U visiting. write m>- lite, 'let a Arriving in March, 1833, he at once organized from pious emigrants some Methodist Churches and prepared to estabUsh an academy at IMonrovia, the capital. He soon held under the ever- green palms the first camp-meeting ever known in Africa. In five months, this heroic man, fit to lead a mortal enterprise, fell by African fever. The same year five followed him, of whom only one, Sophronia Farrington, served for a year. John Seys, born in the West Indies and fitted to life in the tropics, then joined the mission tUid was identified with its inter- ests in Africa and America for nearly forty years. Liberia under him took definite form and character. He was not of Cox's flam- ing temper, who "saw Liberia rise up before him as a cloud out of heaven." He was a calm, plain hard-working man. Miss Farrington now left. She had remained to hold the place alone and her experience was very singular. She wa.^ sick with fever, which on the fourth day ran so high that mortification was taking place and all hope of recovery was abandoned. " I was alone. I thought, ' Is there not some one here to sympathize with me?' At once Jesus seemed to stand by my side and showed me that it was not His will that I should die at this time and that I should remain for the mission's sake. I said ' Then, Lord, remove the disease.' Sudden as a flash of lightning the fever and pain all left me and I was well. "'If haif the strings of life should break, God can our flesh restore.' "The doctor said mine was the greatest cure he had ever wrought to which I made him no reply. Eight missionaries were now dead, and Mr. Spaulding, our superintendent was to sail on the following Tuesday for America. He was calculating to take me with him and give up the mission. But I said : 'No ; I can never see this mission abandoned. I can die here, but I will never return until the mission is established.' But he said : ' The Board will probably cut you off if you do not g- ' I said, ' I will stay and trust in the Lord.' " She staid, and was the only white person on the coast to welcome Mr, Seys on his arrival. He says: "We were soon at the house and in the presence of the solitary remnant of the former mission band, Miss Farrington, on whose visage the pesti- lence had left its traces, and who was at the time enjoying a little, - •,■'■' *»fe'J&"j> Ki ■ Si ',ti ■^Hgi: > *i ^^^K^ ! 4 mm m sCh TllK SIORV OF .MF.rilODISM. but short, respite from its L;rasp. I, as a new-comer, <;aze(l on one who hatl braved all daiis^ers for Christ's sake, hatl seen others (lie, but had not feared herself to die, standing; her L;"round amid the peltini^'s of the storm. Never will I fori;et my emotions as I first took the hand of, and was welcomed to Africa by, the only- representative of tile Methodist {episcopal mission in that country, and that reiiresentative a delicate, frail, emaciated woman." This y'ouncj woman was not below the very hiL;hest evan- gcHsts in the calendar of Methodism. She had won souls at home, and now, that she was the first youni^ hidy ever sent by Methodists tt) a foreii^n field, she tjjairiod converts from the emi- grants on the passat^e. Her very skill in painting and drawini;" drew savajres to admire and hear her. In her self-consuming zeal, she wished to "offer her soul upon the altar of her God for the salvation of Africa." After another year she returned to America and, as Mrs. George Cone, residing;" at Utica, N. Y., she lived a long, useful and honorable life. Mr. Seys proved to be the man needed in Africa, He was born in Santa Cruz, had there begun his ministry, but he h.ul livetl many years in Trinidad, within ten degrees of the equator, where the climate and temperature arc not unlike those of Liberia. Thus reared and acclimated, it had come into his mind, until it destroyed his peace, whether he ought not to offer himself to fill the place of Cox in Africa. He had come North and was serving the Oneida Indians when these thoughts began, and others who knew him were also thinking of his fitness and possible call to this work. Bishop Hedding addressed him on the matter. Seys read the letter to his wife and her prompt answer was : " I am willing to accompany my husband wherever God and the Church see fit to send him." There was no hesitation. While he was preparing to start, Spaulding arrived and told him what havoc death had made, of which we were just telling. Bishop Hedding, dreading to continue such sacrifice, offered to release Seys from the appointment. The hero would not be released from a post to which he was sure God called him. Neither the Church nor himself was disappointed. He writes : " My own health has been excellent since my arrival. This climate appears thus far to be »^;;^v MHTllODlS.M 1\ AFRICA. 5^^5 quite cont:jcnial to my constitution and, in fact, I seem to breathe my natixe air." In the first year two hundred souls were convtM-ted. There th him ill the mission thirteen preachers and six were now wi teachers, himself bein<^ the only white, and there was enou^di for them all to do. A c.ill came from every direction. Se\'s wrote: "I wept in the fullness of my soul at the remembrance of our Lord's words : 'Ti^e harvest truly is plenteous, but the laborers are few.'" This year, 1S34, ten thousand pagans came of their own desire into the c; u"e o t th e Colo "y. Irawn by a d esire of in- struction, and Mjciini^ that in the colony was something of peace and strength unknown to themselves. Se\-s at this was ^dad of heart and wished to uo out aniontr th ose who so came to h mi. The Conda country, under a king, " Jioatswain," a man of generous mind, whose domain fringed upon Liberia, opened a wide and welcome door. Several of his generals, with a train of two hundred, came in native pomp and escortetl to their country a teacher, Moses Jacobs, and both he and they rejoiced upon th<-' occasion. Seys was happy in his work. "Scarcely a happier soul than I could anywhere be found." Going now back to America for his family, so as to settle in Liberia for his life work, he took with him a Krooman, Hughes. The Kroos arc the handsomest people in ^Xfrica, as fine in their own style as the best Circassians. Hughes appeared at Seys' meetings and Avas the "sensation." I'oor fellow! Some negroes in Maryland told him, as he was going to Washington, that he would be sold for a slave. "His heart was brcjken ; crazed his brain; at once his eye grew wild !" He became insane and ne\-cr recovered. One da)-, after his return to Liberia, he started with his dog for the Kroo country, and was never again seen. Mrs. Seys now went out, and for the first time illness came upon the family and a son died of the fever. The Liberia Annual Conference wa;- now formed. Si')'s could not rest in the work of the colony. The Dark Continent had for him the same fascination, the same inii)erious call of duty, that it was soon having for Livingstone, that it now has for William Taylor. He returned to the United States to plead for men and means to enter among the millions in the regions beyond, and he did not plead in vain. ■'.■■■:> I *■', .;.'^ 1^ ! ('■ i 566 THE ST(JRV OF METHODISM. On his return he took out two persons who were lielpcrs indeed. S. M. \i. Goheen was a physician whose training and talents made easy to him in this country the path to phice and wealth in his profession. All this he i^iivc up, and took like a true philanthropist the perils and poverty of Africa, and for j-ears ful- filled his callinir there. He with Seys and IJurton, constituted the three white men who only were able to do effective work in Liberia. This year, 1836, Mrs. Ann Wilkins was converted at a camp- c,; lur meetm.t^ at Sinnham was his successor. At the arrival of lienham, came also a slaver, the Pons, just captured by a U. S. man-of- war, with nine hundred slaves on board. This was the last-known instance of slave-trade horrors, and it was high time that the crime be blotted out of human evils. These wretched victims were put into the care of the mission. The case was made known in the United States, and ample means for the effort were fur- nished. Never in all the history of the Gospel did its grace come suddenly in contact with such depth of misery, and it was equal to the need. In a year, half of those poor creatures (they were Congo boys between ten and twenty, only forty-seven being girls) could read and were converted, and the religious history of some was most touching. The dreary tale of death or departure runs on. Laura Brush came in 1846, and did years of good service, but most were driven from the field. MI':rilt)I)I>.\l IN AFRICA. 5/1 ulncss. of the [and of 11 a\va> J to his twenty -s were ty miles expres- at once to these riizzam's ; find a r^cys was with the and Mrs. work to ive years had, in that he Thus the M' Benham, man-of- st-known that the ll victims lie known were fur- iice come fas equal hey were of some lure runs service, In 1S51, I'^rancis lUirns, who had come out with Se)'s on his first \oya^e, was i)ut in clKU\Lfe, .uul .Mr. Home, the last white missionar)', look' charge of the academ)', remaining five jears. liishop Scott, in 1S32 was the first of our Hishops to \isit Africa, lie spent three months in visitintj, preaching', correct! n'J and encouratrmu-. It t on ctied lum to see h(j\v the prommenl youni; natives, after conversion, found S(j scant means of culture, anil he pro[)osed that the\' be taken into the families of the preachers. The native towns were transient, antl some of the best converts were already far away towards the center of llu' continent — i^one, but not lost, for traces of their influence could be found. In 1856, Miss Staunton, a young white lady who was aidinc^ Ann VVilkins, died at Cai)e Palmas, the first unmarried lad)- tc; fall in missionary servi'. ( 'U a forei<^n land. Six unmarried white ladies were sent to Liberia, of whom Mrs. Wilkins did the longest service, and Miss Mar«Taret Kilpatvick, 1 854-1 864, the next. The Bishops ci id not ea iiy or safely visit Liberia, thouLjh, beincj now a Conference of over twenty preachers, it needed their supervision. The yoiui!^ preachers could not come to America to be ordained. A constituti- nal change was now matle in the Dis- cipline, by which a missionary Bishop could be created for a specified foreign mission. Francis Burns, whose view was that Liberia was a mission, was chosen and ordained in 1858, and the next )'ear he presided Lit the session. He at once began the interio'" work, and acted wisely and vigorously u.ntil his death in 1863. j. W. Roberts succeeded, at whose death, in 1875, the members had come to be two thousand three hundred, the largest number yet reported. In 1876, Bishop Gilbert Haven met the Conference. His visit was comforting and inspiring, the Conference being at Monrovia, where the Legislature was in session. ?Ie found his people only moderately prosperous, but rather better off than their neighbors. The preachers were elderly men ; he was an.xious to have young laborers brought in, and to have an aggressive work upon the interior. He was well cared for, and his letters give lively and hopeful views of the region, }'et it is possible that his death was hastened by his journey. "A t>H UP W: '^m W mm %Ww m mmmjmm. :3 iilil w 572 THE STORY OF METHODISM. pillar of ice where my backbone should be," with alternations of '• fierce equatorial fire," reminded him of his Liberian experiences. In 1877, an exploring party started to find mission stations in the interior. At Vanzuah they found, with surprise, Moham- medan missionaries within twelve miles of Monrovia ! These had come from a college at Musardie, two hundred and fifty miles away, while Christ's messengers had not yet gone fifty miles. They were, however, cheered to find students from Liberian schools, and the people little inclined to Mohammedanism. At the Condo capital they begged for Missionaries, and even children got into the visitors' laps, and asked these to come and teach them. The King of the Condoes said he himself would attend the school, and he agreed, in writing, to " protect, sustain and encourage any missionaries or mission schools." This region back of Liberia is cool, beautiful and healthful. Bishop Haven was sure that white men could there work to advantage, and at his call fifty young men offered themselves. He appointed to this interior work Rev. Messrs. Osgood and Bovard, and to the Seminary, Rev. Mr, Kellogg. These went in 1878, They found a charming climate and evervthing conducive to health and activity. The King of Boporo did not keep his con- tract, but they easily got better places, and had no idea of stopping until their work should reach the heart of the continc it at the head waters of the Niger. Mr. Kellogg entered with equal zeal upon his educational work. No missionaries are now sent to Liberia, and the progress of the work is but moderate for lack of Laborers. The men last named have since returned. Yet there are now twenty-seven hundred in the society, and about as many scholars in Sunday- school. In 1858, William Taylor, who, the year before, had been made missionary Bishop of Africa, a man of faith, strength and courage, gathered a company of his like and started for Central Africa to occupy the Congo I'ree State and other places. Some of the company were farmers and mechanics ; some had families of children. They go as "Pauline" missionaries, on a j^lan of self-support. The expense of their going was paid by friends in sympathy with the mox'cment. Some wiluable African properties METHODISM IN AFRICA. have been bought in the same wa)'. It is proposed to raise in the fertile soil abundant provisions, then such products as will tell in commerce, then to build schools and churches. This is to show the natives how Christians live, work and do business. Meanwhile, the work of evangelizing will go on. The theory is that Christianity is not to come as a suppliant and an adventurer. It is to stride in by daylight^ as a conqueror comes, not by force, but by assurance of faith, come to stay, and that by command of its Almighty Founder, and to draw the people to itself and to demand their grateful service and support. This magnificent scheme has begun well. The company have had a year of good health, as good as at home. One family of six children reports only a week's illness of the youngest, two and a half years old, who is since fat and playful. The Bishop works seven hours a day in the sun, nor does any one thus far complain. They will in time have ample crops. Soon it will be proved whether white men can or cannot thrive in Africa. Should the result be favor- able, Methodism will at once take its due share of the task of regenerating the continent now opening its resources and its needs to the Church and the world. • •'M 1 'A M\ Pk m ! I ifl to »i l' ■1 '' 'it, ''/ " , 1 ' l' ' . 1 1 , i:''iiir , "'In,. , f1| Sj'ni[ft '■( ^ ■.?'"■'' \' 1 ■I'j' ' I' 1 ' , ! ' 1 '■ ! 1 1 , 1 '> !' 1 i CHAPTER XLVII. Methodism ix China and Japan. >M r! 1 5 M > MONG the veteran students of the VVesleyan University are many who will recall its Mission- ary Lyceum. There, in 1835, was discussed' in several meetings, this question: "What country now presents the most promising field for missionary exertions?" "China," was the decision, and three students, Tefift, Kidder and Wentworth, since eminent in the Church, prepared an address urging attention to that country. Dr. Fisk, that year, urged its claims before the Missionary Society. It was not until, in 1844, the unjust opium war with England compelled China to open five sea-ports to the world that steps for a mission were actually taken. J. U. Collins, a young man of Michigan, offered to Bishop Janes to go as a common sailor, working his passage to China, if he might only be appointed. He, with M. C. White, who had medical training, and Mrs. White, left Boston, April 15, 1847. They were the first Methodist missionaries to the East, the first to round the Cape of Good Hope. They went to Foochow ("Happy Region"), because it was the only port destitute of Protestant service. A missionary of the Am<^rican Board had actually arrived just before them. On the voyage they learned from a passenger something of the language. The city had half a million people. It is now twice as large, and the mart of a province of twenty-five millions. September 6, 1847, the day of their landing here, is the epoch of Methodism in China, and these three were the 1 n. * $ sr: 1 ' Ik nM mi II: ■ I. i •''■Ml If ill m;' ill!!' 1>i it i'i' tisi .^ 576 THE STORV OF METHODISM. forerunners of five thousand in society with twice as many- adherents. The Httle company found shelter in a house of the American I^oard until they secured a home on the Middle Island in the river Min. This connects with the shore by a "Big Bridge," "Bridge of Ten Thousand Ages," a quarter of a mile long. Two miles from the stream is Foochow, distinguishable only by its walls from the crowded country round it. Here they had a decent home, but looking from a height upon five hundred villages of a thousand people each, not one knowing the Saviour's name, they cried: "Who is sufii- cient for these things ?" They studied the lan- guage and relieved some sick people and gave away some tracts, pleasing the people by their manner. Soon they got a pleasant home, and in the year they were fairly planted. They could not yet get into the city. In 1848, a school of eight boys was opened and R. S. R. S. MACLAY, D. D, Maclay soon coming, Mrs. Maclay began, with ten girls, a school which became very interesting. The first Sunday-school in China was held March 4, 1848. " It was a sight to gladden the angels." Most of the children came half an hour too early, and it was not easy to keep them quiet. A Chinese doxology was sung to Old Hundred. The Lord's Prayer .was read in Chinese, and explained, and all knelt while it was said in English. The second of Mat- thew was read and explained, and the little Chinese boys were asked how they understood it, and they seemed much interested. After an hour and a half, all was closed with singing and the •J. 2: 7) > < ■n n X c r. -.■«'■*. . . i^ i - Li. 57« THE STORV OF METHODISM. ^ >i> , Lord's Prayer. A little room by the street was obtained for a chapel. It niiL^ht hold fifty, but the \\a}-siclc hearers were many, as the Chinese love discourse, and stop to hear for a moment what is being said. One day, a fine-lookiiiLj, well-spoken man offered the missionaries his services on salary to master and present their themes for them. He was a talker by profession. The first church building, a solid one, was built in 1H55. outside the walls, but on a main street, with a cupola and a bell, that almost gave the Church's name, "Ching Sing Tong," Church of the True God, car\ed where all could read it. Soon another was built in another place convenient for foreigners, its Chinese part being called "Tien Ang," Heavenly Rest. Mr. Collins was obliged to come home for his health and on his way he planned at San Francisco the present Chinese mission there. His place was filled by ., Rev. (afterwards Bishop) Wile)- ^i-. and others. Soon, from various =gi% reasons, chiefly the great Tai- ping rebellion, Mr. and Mrs. Wiley were alone. Soon, Mrs. Wiley died, and her husband, from grief and debility, returned home. Messrs. Maclay (return- ing), Gibson and Wentworth then came, and the work went on. Mrs. Maclay and Mrs. Gibson had a fine school of thirty, and soon the Misses Woolston came and took it for permanent service. The first convert was baptized on July 14, 1857, Ting Ang, a tradesman of forty-seven. He had been hearing the Gospel, had cleared his house of idols, and begun secret and family prayer. His family, a large one, was in agreement wdth him. The mis- sionaries visited him, and for the first time offered prayer in a Chinese house in the great city. His baptism and entrance to the Church, and partaking of the Lord's Supper made a memorable day. Previous to this a little boy had died in the faith, privatelx' taught by Dr. Wiley, and a young man, a true believer, hat! sailed for New York. In a year, 1858, a complete Methodist Episcoppl Church was organized. Chinese Mis.sion of the M. K. Church, San Francisco, California. M i L i*l!| :m :»' k i» A CHINESE SCRIBE. The Chinese use a separate character for every word and idea. Their language contains about fifty thousand characters, of which some thirty-three thousand are in actual use. ,■ .'11 w 580 THE STORY OF METHODISM. The next blessing Methodism gave to China was the Found- ling Hospital. Thousands of female children have there been yearly cast away. This was to save the lives of the little unfortu- nates. Meanwhile, the family of the first convert embraced the faith. He has passed to heaven, but his children are Christians, and Bishop Harris, in 1873, learned the ritual in Chinese to baptiie his grandson, the son of a native preacher. i? 73c h HU PO MI The first itinerant raised up in China was Hu Po Mi, who became pastor (1859) at a place fifteen miles from Foochow. After his conversion, he had visited at this place some friends dear to him, and told them "what a dear Saviour he had found." Soon he took Dr. Maclay to visit them, and a meeting was held I w ifji; g* I - ^ n g :' " y-*"* ' ^ 'a METHODISM IX CHINA AND JAPAN. 581 at their home, tea being, meanwhile, served to each comer as he entered. All listened, and the result was the conversion of nine in this one (the Li) family. Such success gave alarm, but the natives found that both law and public policy protected the mis- sionaries ; so milder means were tried. The heathen Lis thought that, at Maclay's coming, the spirit guardians of their house ran away. They went to the mountain behind their house and begged these to come back, and it seemed as if the spirits would do so, when another Christian meeting finished the business. A famous enchanter was employed, but the pale shivering phan- toms that had for ages ruled the house of Li now fled forever. The morn was rising. The enchanter and two more Lis now forsook the older gods that had so forsaken them and became earnest and true Christians. The number of workers was now, 1859, doubled. S. L. Baldwin and Mrs. Baldwin, and C, R. Martin and Mrs. R^v. s. l. Baldwin, d. d. Martin, came to Foochow. It is sweet to say how, on their voyage, Mr. Peet of the American Board cheered their hearts and helped in learning Chinese, and that, reaching Shanghai at midnight, the missionaries of the Church South gave them greet- ing prompt and warm, and introduced them to their peculiar work, to Chinese discourse and communion. In a far land how good it is for Christians to dwell in unity! And they always do. Two sisters, Misses Woolston, now came to enter upon the education of Chinese girls. Mr. Gibson's school for boys was succeeding; that of Mrs. Maclay and Mrs. Gibson for girls had s IP' I.,' i J- X<'] '„..<''' i ,i .':'! m '1" m pi '' 582 TilK Sl'oRV OF MKl IloDISM. done fairly. The natives were afraid of such a novclt)', and for cii(iit daj-s one little c:jirl came alone. After ten months there had been fifteen, three bein^' small footed — i. e., of higher famil)'. The need of such a school was forcibly set forth by Dr. Went- worth to the Methodist women of America. The case t)f Chinese ^irls was hard indeed. Half of them were put to death on the day they were born. To most of the others was set a life of slavery, with all the ills that heathenism puts upon women. Besides this appeal to general humanity, it was shown that the THE FIRST CHINESE MINISTERS. female foundlings would soon fill a school, would usually be converted, would have culture for social position, would be wives of preachers and Christian men, and establish in China homes, rich in domestic peace and virtue, "the only bliss that has survived the fall." The appeal did its work, and the school is now, for thirty years, one of the good things of Foochow. Hu Sung Eng, " Mary Mertlctt Irving," was the first convert among its pupils. She was a daughter of that good family that furnished the first native preacher. She is now the wife of a .-^^ , o > O I- .■ -^I ' - 1 i ' '"f X: \i M ?ii ' M I ' w ii m ill !»; t Si ''.■'■ "■I l '■ m I; i? .Till:*. m ■I' 5«4 IIIK sroKV ol'- Mi;i IlohlSM. preacher, with bright, Christian chihhxn about her, the thiril Christian "reneration 'i her house provin;^ that Christianit}' is not to ilie out iu the Fh)\very Kiii,t;(h)m. In iS6o, "Father" I 111 was the first convert to che, and he proved, on that side of the world, Wesley's comfortable words, "Our people die well." He left, beside Mary Irvini;, six sons, four adult members and two lads at school. The next years went on successfully. Chapels were built, native preachers came up, and tracts and Scripture translations were multiplied. The Ljovcrnment opened the country to mis- sionaries, and af^reed to protect them. Mr. Sites went to a place farther into the land, and at last a mission- ary, with chapel and school on his own premises, was allowed within the walls of Foochow. This last victory cost something. A mob destroyed the new church, and the house of Martin, the missionary. He re- built it, but in the The first Doctor of Divinity among Methodist converts from ^VCCK bcforC it Was heathenism. (Delegate to the General Conference 1888.) dedicated lie WaS taken with cholera, and went suddenly to the house not made with hands. His last words were: "It pays to be a Christian." In 1865, Bishop Thompson came to cheer and guide the work. Other Bishops have visited the mission. It has now six districts, with a hundred native preachers, and three thousand members, contributing liberally to all Church interests, and as well established in Christianity as any people. It will be noted that here Bishop Wiley began his labors. Thirty-three years later, sick and weary, he sailed up the river, SIA SEK ONG he third Liaiiil)' is 'Father" idc of the L>11." Me and two ere built, anslations ed. The opened to mis- id agreed cm. Mr. a phice the land, 1 mission- bapel and his own IS allowetl walls of This last omcthint^. royed the and the artin, the He re- in the it was was taken ith hands. fuide the now six thousand and as lis labors, the river, r > en .^ -H a: 3 o 5d o C/J > 2! n X > •' ■ i ... y ^ ' ' ." 'l( \ S?.G THE STORY OF METHODISM. li .r':;t«'' aiul as he saw where he had first Hved, he said: "Home, my oKl home !" There he died, on the same spot where, thirty- two years before, at the same hour, day and month, Mrs. Wiley also had died. Service was had in that Church of Heavenly Rest, whose name was now so fitting, and native preachers bore the body of their dear " Hwaila Kangtok," in a cofiin which their own hands had lined and pillowed, to rest by that of Mrs. Wiley, among the olives and pines, the longans and guavas of the Foochow cemetery. In the year 1886, a whole village of five hundred near Foo- chow, with one im- pulse, threw away their gods, and asked to become a Metli- odist Church. They said their gods could do nothing. Of these, many will become true converts. The whole of China was now open to missionaries. Kin Kiang, a great cit)' far up the great river Yang-tse, at the mouth of which is ROBERT c. BEEBEE, M. D. Nankin, w as next entered. It is the capital of a province that has a population equal to one-third of the United States, and around a beautiful lake, Po Yang, are other large cities. Here, in 1868, was planted the Central China Mission. The commerce of the noble river is Miimense, and lines of steamers run far into the interior. The best monument of ^Methodism in this vast region is the hospital at Nankin, the gift of Mrs. Philander Smith, of Oak Park (Chicago). It was last year, 1886, opened, with accommodations for eighty patients, besides a chapel, and dwellings for physicians. In one thing it is above reproach of sectarianism, for at its omc, my c, thirty- II th. Mrs. ;hurch of id native vangtok," [lowed, to jines, the y'car 1886, age of five car Foo- one im- c\v away and asked : a Meth- ch. They Tods could . Of these, become w hole of now open ies. Kin great city reat river at t h e which is as next oopulaticMi beautiful as planted le river is •ior. The e hospital 3ak Park modations hysicians. for at its f ^ W- is 588 THE STORY OF METHODISM. opening there was not a Methodist in the great city, and only two Christians, Presbyterians. Surely, it is meant for mankind ! It is the talk and wonder of the region, drawing more notice than the far-famed Pagoda of Porcelain. One of its specialties is the cure of the opium habit. R. C. Beebee, the builder and physician in charge, is devout and skillful, and of great executive ability, and Mrs. Beebee, of high education and medical lineage, is a valuable helper. The tongue of reproach, native or foreign, is silent in the presence of such an institution. Peking, the capital, a city of two millions, on a vast, fertile plain girt with mountains rich in minerals, and the best of coal on the surface within thirty miles of the town, is the greatest mission field on earth. To this Messrs. Wheeler and Lowry came in 1869. The missionaries of the American Board were already there to give them a hearty welcome. They found a queer city, or rather four cities, on a space three-fourths as large as New York island. These arc the Chinese City, the Tartar City, the Imperial City, the Forbidden City. This last is occupied by the Emperor and his court. As it name implies, no foreigner enters it, though the French and English soldiers have "looted" the summer palace. The climate is that of Philadelphia. Here some time was needed to learn the Mandarin, the dialect of the capital, and to find premises for chapel and home. Just inside of a city gate was a mansion where a chancellor of the Empire had lived with twenty-seven wives, and servants in pro- portion. This was secured and was ample for the present need. The Woman's P^oreign Missionary Society has now a home and hospital near by. On June 5, 1869, the first public service by Methodists was held in the Chinese capital. Forty natives and a few foreigners were present. To-day all is hopeful, though it is the day of small things. There are five hundred members, and these have paid seventy-five cents this year for the missionary cause, l)eing above "the million line." The W. I*". M. Society has treated one thousand five hundred at its dispensary, and made four hundred and ninety- eight visits, so that Methodism in Pekin follows W' eslcy's London rule, "to do all possible good to the bodies as well as the souls of men," follows the pattern of One greater than Wesley. It would not be Wesleyan to limit religious work to stations. .'■ *; MErilODISM IN CHINA AND JAPAN. 589 Both missionaries and native preachers have gone, usually, on horseback with saddle-bags, sometimes for a six weeks' tour from the east, where the great wall touches the sea, to the sacred moun- tains on the west, and hundreds of miles north and south, to preach and scatter tracts. The results have been salutary. Per- sistent efforts have been successfully made for self support. The to stations. THE PRESENT MIKADO OF JAPAN, IN NATIVE COSTUME. charge of being hired and fed by "foreign rice" hurt the native preachers, and many of them resolved to take no more money from abroad. Their resolution cost them something, but, as their leader said, "I am glad I did it!' Their faith, courage and manliness have been found equal to it. A mission has lately been started in West China, in which the •i'l,. I,'«l ii 590 THE STORY UI- METHODISM. I w i r' l'" medical work of the Woman's Foreign Missionary Society is prominent and successful. Methodism has thus, in thirty years, done well in China. The Church South has also done faithful work there, chiefly in m^' "■ """" "■ " ■■■"■" — "-'■"-.■- ■ -— — — — y- T--^-s RKV. Y. HOUDA. The first Japanese ordained in the M. E. Mission by Bishop Wiley. the region of Shanghai, where Bishop Wilson is now visiting. The Wesleyans have a mission now long flourishing at Canton, and other Methodist bodies have stations at Ningpo and Tientsin. There are, in all, over twenty thousand Chinese converts in the ■V ^1 'm\ MKIIIODISM I\ CHINA AND JAl'AX. 591 '„■'■■- various Methodist societies. The abuse of Chinese in America is just now causing bhnd retahation upon missionaries in West China, but this will be brief. Jap an IS so near China that its Methodism may here be told. The entrance was in 1H72; the progress has been most rapid. Dr. Maclay, comi n Q from China, took charge of the work, and n. Bish 01 his helpers were Messrs. Harris, Soper and Daviso Harris, with many visitors, was present at the formal organization at Yokohama, August 8, 1873. This city had, since the opening of Japan to the world, in 1853, come into existence as the great centre of foreign in- tercourse, and here were to be the head- quarters of the mis- sion. Tokio,thc capital, eighteen miles away, will, however, be its natural center. Other cities were at once occupied. The first real estate was bought at Nagasaki, an im- portant sea-port, by Mr. Davidson. It was notable that this is in poetry and legend the sacred region of Japan, where the gods once lived in the form of men, and thus the first foot-hold of Methodism was in the Japanese Holy Land. Mr. Harris was sent to Hakodati, the only place in the island of Yesso open to foreigners, and here, January, 1874, he preached the first Protestant sermon ever given on the island. It was now an interesting time in Japanese history. The Mikado had come out of ages of seclusion, and the present one was making a wise and energetic administration felt in all his land. The world was surprised to find here a vigorous and intelligent GOUCHER HALL. Anglo Japanese College, Tokio. '^-1'^'. h ;;i! '^^0: METHODISM IN CHINA AND JAPAN. 593 5 Q O U < < < CO people suddenly entering into the list of nations. The stirring world came in like a tide, and the I'Lmperor and his people wel- comed the arts and ideas of the West. Several branches of the Church saw the opportunity and the pressing duty to bring in Christianity at such a crisis. There was a boundless hunger for hearing the Gospel, and this has grown by what it has fed upon, until it is probable that, in ten years, Japan will rank as a Chris- tian nation. Dr. Maclay looked about and was convinced that the work was already beyond the working force of the mission. He urged its increase and welcomed all Christian laborers. The first year was spent in gaining foot- hold and the language. Preaching in Japanese began in the summer of 1874, the congrega- tion being four, but soon growing to fifty. Here in Yokohama in October, the first con- verts, Mr. and Mrs. Kichi, were baptized. Miss Schoon- maker, of the Woman's l^'o reign Missionary Society, now opened ;i boarding-school in Tokio, in the only m. e. church, hakodati, japan. place to be had, half of an idol temple, the priest of which needed money. So the building long served to very contrasting uses, a Christian home and school, and a gloomy shrine of false worship. This year the government gave Mr. Harris m Hakodati a hand- some piece of land for mission buildings. At the end of the year, about twenty had been converted. The next year, besides the preaching, public day-school;-, were begun, the classes were formed in full Methodistic style, and various buildings were erected. 38 V:-'!:M } ■: Jll 594 THE STUKV OF METHODISM. The next year, 1876, the missions went on prospcrini^. Bishop Marvin of the Church South, with Mr. Hendrix, his travehn^ companion, spent a week in lovinij and clieerint; fellow- ship at Tokio, Yokohama. In the fifth year, Mr. Davison pre- sented to the mission a collection of hymns in Japanese. Of these the M. K. Church of Canada, having a mission in the country, bore half the expense, as it did also in the translation of the Disciplin There had been founded in Yesso, where Hi..ris was laborin<^, an agricultural college, and of this Col. W. S. Clark, from Massachusetts, was now president. He was an attractive man, gallant and accomplished, and by his quiet instructions many students were brought to Christ. These in turn instructed others, and so Harris was much aided. This was the }'ear of the Satsuma re- bellion, a proud and restless people revolting against the Emperor because they had no representation in the government. It cost fift}- thousand lives and fift\' millions of dollars. After it came the cholera, so that it was a year of disaster. In 1878, Bishop Wiley visited the missions. These were able to show him as the result of five years' work, five important and thriving central stations and several out-stations. There were fourteen missionaries and thirty-two native helpers, one boarding and five day-schools, church property worth twenty-five thousand two hundred dollars, translating Discipline, Catechism ami Hymns, and three hundred and eighty-one members. Since that date the buildings at Tokio have been burned and rebuilt. Mrs. Governor Wright, of New York, has built ;i seminary at Hakodati in place of a school-house there burned with the church (now rebuilt.) PHILANDER SMITH BIBLICAL INSTITUTE, AOYMA, TOKIO, JAPAN. ll T MKTIIODISM IN ( IIIXA AND lAl'AX. 595 |i burned and has built a [here burned At Tokio, in 1879, an institution was opened for ministerial education, to which J. F. Goucher, of Baltimore, ^ave a fund of ten thousand dollars. Mrs. Smith, who built the Nankin hosj)ital, lias here built the Philander Smith Biblical Institute, at the " Ei Wa Gokko," the Tokio University. In the Anglo-Japanese, the secular part of the same, there were last year one hundred and sixty-eight students. Besides this, there are five schools under S '-i^:. ■Ml: ■life. 596 THE STORY OF METIKJDIS.M. the care of the VV. F. M. S., and a "Coblci^di Seminary" at Nagasaki. Japan is the most hopeful land of missions. Its peo- ple have great capacity, and the converts are true, courageous and clear-headed. These now number about seventeen hundred. In the year 1886, Mr. Harris, one of the first missionaries, as we have told, came to work for the Japanese in California. He finds eight hundred in and about San Francisco, seventy being baptized Christians. Many of these attend high schools ; six are in the Pacific University, and eighteen have just gone to eastern schools. Half are of the gentry class, the rest of the "intelligent middle." They all wish to learn TLnglish "as she is spoke," and to return to Japan to promote the welfare of their own people. In six months, though mostly poor, they have given Mr. Harris over one thousand dollars for religious purposes. " I left Japan with regrets. The work there is charming, and moves with power and promise. I am thankful that in my native land I may still labor among the Japanese to whom, thirteen years ago, I dedi- cated my life." Indeed, he could not find a work nobler or more useful. Corea, north of Japan and China, has been a hermit among nations, known by hardly more than name. Of late it has had violent internal strifes. In 1885, Appenzeller and Scranton went to explore it. They found it a land of idle men and toiling women, but at Seoul, the capital, they found entrance, and bought lands for future uses. Dr. Scranton's mother takes land in the same spot for the W. F. M. S. Her son entered at once upon his practice of medicine ; he was solicited to receive students and, making his own house a dispensary, finds the work growing beyond his ability. Three Corean students have been sent to the school in Tokio. The King has given his royal sanction to the work. "It is very kind of you to take such an interest in Coreans ; it would be a good thing if you were to teach them, and there could be no objection." This meant: "Go ahead, if you can get pupils!" Appenzeller now has pupils, as Scranton has patients, and the fruits will appear. Corea is the land into which Methodism has most recently entered, in which the Gospel was hitherto quite unknown. CHAPTER XLVIII. ...*-:.H,>;| Mei'iiudism in India. .F the )f the United State? about the extent of India, which has five times as many people, and these are of twenty-one races, usin^ fifty ton^nies. Upon such a land there is room for all the labor that Christendom can spare. The I'^ast India Company fiercely persisted in excluding all missionaries for one hundred }'ears, and when it was at last obliged to concede their entrance, as by the law of Britain and of nations, it contrived hindrances down to the Sepoy Mutiny, about the time that Methodism entered the country. In 1856, William Butler, an Irish Wesleyan of talent and education, and well acquainted L o?^o ^^''tli English affairs, had come to preach in the United States. In Ireland he had been assistant of James L)'nch, who, after thirty years of service as Wesleyan missionary in India, had returned enfeebled to his native land. Butler was thus peculiarh- related to a missionary enterprise in India, and his superior per- sonal qualities completed his fitness. He was sent to find the best place and to found a mission, and September 25, 1856, he reached Calcutta. To choose a field in so large a land, where Wesleyans and others were at work before him, was a task delicate towards other missionaries ?«("t* ■ I ' f >!/''^'- |l«^) ^m:^'~.^^-.-^,:^-mmz THE GIRLS HIGH SCHOOL, NYXEE TAL, INDIA. MKlllohlSM IN INKIA. 599 and difficult in itsi-lf. "\Vc arc to <^n, not to those who want ns, but to those who want us most," is the W'eslej-an lule. lie wanti.'il to leave ni^nc without thi- (lospel. At last he chose the northwest i)ro\'inces. His tiehl had on tlie north the I liin,ila\ a- on the west and south the (iauLics, beinij Rohilcund and ( (ndc. It was about as hir^c as eleven-temhs of l'enns\l\ania, hut with five times as many people, Lucknow havin;^^ three hundred .uid fifty thousand. Otiier missionary societies conceded to that of the M. IC. Church the ri I MEIliODISM IN INDIA. 6oi i > 7i H < H C H X W CO 90 a C r > H PI PO H X ■r I— I M O w o >») f c o r C *i I [> village to village, as the preachers went in early Methodism, and s'), it is said, the Brahminic teachers had always done. This accounts for a larg^ part of Methodist success in India. __^^ __£. -AST ,111 ill 'y: til i IIP '■ ■ f If ii^^il^^'il fSE h m BM *:.: it* Jt>l Fi> f*r< '^ t * 602 THE STORY OF METHODISM. Sir Ilcniy Lawrence, who was with Havelock a great figure in the mutiny, said at his death: "Let a mission be estabhshed in Lucknow."' It was a gre'\t city and a center of a great region, and just then, by its siege and sufferings in the mutiny, its asso- ciation with the great name of Havelock and Scotch Jennie's "Dinna ye hear it?" when the reHeving force was miles away, Lucknow was before the eyes of the world. All roads to other missions passed through this great city. Montgomery, a noble Christian, commissioner or military Governor, gave the mission a valuable property, confiscated from mutineers, and offered what other sites it mignL need, for the reason of its being a public benefit. He added from his own purse five hundred dollars. Work began at once. The first comer to the mission was an orphan, a girl of sixteen years ; then a boy, who became an exhorter; then a native policeman. In July, 1859, there were thirty converts, forty-nine baptisms, and a dozen serious inquirers. The next month came from home five missi> uaric and their wives, with J. M. Thoburn, who, after twenty-five ye?rs of "ap- prenticeship," is now at the head of the India work. Of these, Mr. Downey died soon after arrival, but Mrs. Downey (nee Rock- well, from a gay, dashing girl, come to be a devoted, enterprising w^oman) went on with the work. The mission was now enlarged, and Bareilly became its cen- ter. There was fixed at Shahjehanpore "The World's King's City," an asylum for orphan boys, survivors of the mutiny. One of these, found on an elephant's back after his father had fallen in fight, is to-day a preacher, James Gowan. So did the orphana/^er Ice pickt. X r > > o o n 2! O 2: 3 liese they thus \?.n L.ati. r':'; I ' :■.% ri H Jv ^ 604 THE STORY OF METHGOlSM. His early training was of the most baleful sort, but he heard the Word, and with deep conviction and much inborn energy he broke away from the ways of his fathers. He studied hard, and completed well a theological course in the school afterwards founded at Bareill)-. He then, with Wesley's own zeal, went from village to village, addressing chiefly his own low caste, and with true Wesleyan results. He is now, 1888, in labor and usefulness at Lucknow. Mahbub Khan, a Mahometan, was teacher in a government school. Seeking for truth (with a mind graciously disturbed, as active heathen minds are apt to be when the Gospel comes near), he read all books of his own faith and grew more restless. He had been told that Christianity was false; he saw that Mahomet- anism was so. One day he asked a fellow-teacher for a book "to diix'e away the blues," and got a New Testament left by a mis- si •'•'• This he took home, read a little, laid it by, and then took p again. He read the Blessings of Matt. v. and thought them indeed well invented ! He read on, and the Sufferings, Matt, xxvii, touched him, and he felt that this must be true, and he accepted it. He meant to be a quiet, prudent Christian, but "his tongue broke out in unknown strains." He began to tell his older pupils what he had found. He could but come to the mis- sionary and confess Christ. He expected that his wife would forsake him and his family be broken up. She studied the case and nobly said: "I am your wife and will never leave you." They and their children were baptized, and several of their kin- dred have followed them. Mahbub showed talents of a high order, and soon became a preacher and at the head of the native ministr}'. The missionaries came rapidly on in that most difficult mat- ter, the talking to the people in their own tongue. Still they had queer experiences. If they spoke ardently, they seemed to the average hearer to be "mad about something," and all wondered what it could be. ICvery little precinct had its local speech or slang, and good, classic words were liable to be misunderstood. The missionaries laughed at their own blunders, and the people, keen as old Athenians, enjoyed them. One was preaching, when a portly pundit — rabbi, doctor — interrupted him several times. The preacher finally turned : "You are no pundit; )'ou T«-e only heard the :ncrgy he hard, and iftcrwards went from , and with usefulness overnment iturbed, as mes near), tless. He Mahomet- i book "to by a mis- % and then nd thought Sufferings, le true, and ristian, but to tell his to the mis- wife would d the case cave you." their kin- of a high the native rficult mat- in they had lied to the wondered speech or Inderstood. lie people, liing, when •ral times. \v. T"e only 1 rn o a: a o ui W > O O X > > o M W > 7i M f >■ 1 ill m U '■' 606 THE STORY or METHODISM. pindit ' (i. < ., a fat man ). The crowd laughed at the pun, and the pundit was suppressed. Another trouble was with the child marriages. These take place while the bride is a child of six, eight or ten years. She goes to live in the family of her future husband, and there fares like a slave. If her betrothed die, she, poor thing ! is doomed to a servile life, so that the old suttee — widow-burning — was a positive relief. It is believed that the Empress Victoria will call attention to this matter in early legislation. Thus, in a family, the men and boys came to baptism without the girls. The missionaries early refused to baptize men without their families, and now many a household has true Christian usage ; but what are they among so many? Another sore trouble to the converts was from their ancient persuasion that the spirits of the dead need food and drink, and they who refuse to offer these will, after death, suffer in their own turn thirst and hunger. These offerings to the dead were hard Lo renounce. The women of India were like most women in heathen lands, 5:,L'.«^'er(. is from heathen usages. Those of high rank suffered most. Since the English have been in the land, native princesses have ruled with energy and success in various domains and yet have never seen their generals or ministers, holding all councils and giving all orders from behind a screen, yet showing by their com- prehension and sagacity great ability in affairs. In sickness, the pulse was felt and treatment prescribed in the same way. The life of a high lady was that of a frog in a well. She never went from the zcnatia unless closely veiled, and she saw no man's face but her husband's, and heard no voice but his. Without books, music or society, she led a dismal life. The zenana — harem — woman's part of the house, was of course shut to missionaries, and only orphans and women of the lowest c^te could hear the Gospel. At last, entrance to these family prisons was made by medical missionaries. India is a land of immense sickness. The people seemed to think that the newly come preachers could heal their diseases, as a part of their sacred calling. Humphrey, one of the first missionaries, was a medical man, and he saw the need of the mission. ■'l¥\ HINDU WOMEN RESCUED FROM THEIR DEGRADATION. __JE !> " n '% 608 THE STORY OF METIK )I)IS.\r. Miss Swain, a trained physician, came to his help in 1870, and he needed her, for in the previous year he had had thirty-five thousand patients at seven dispensaries manaj^ed by himself with a f^rowin*^ band of fairly-trained student helpers. A native prince presented her at Bareilly an estate worth forty thousand dollars, for a medical school and hospital, and on this a noble building has been erected. Miss Swain made, in 1870, two hundred and fifty visits, and treated at her rooms one thousand two hundred and twenty-five TEACHING IN A ZENANA, INDIA. patients. Her school has sent out almost every year a class such as were, by a competent Board, pronounced qualified to practice medicine. The Women's Foreign Mission Society has sent out accomplished ladies as physicians. All have been taxed to their utmost by call^- for practice. Princes have sent carriages to bring them to their palaces, and the poor have blessed them for healing. Wherever these and their helpers have gone, they have freely carried the Gospel balm for souls, and thus the zenanas have been reached. Thus at Moradabad, in 1874, Miss Julia Lore opened practice. METHODISM IN INDIA. 609 With two helpers she sat in her dispensary for a week, when a little boy from across the street was brou<^ht to be treated. A crowd soon followed and she was called to families. A young Mahometan lady said: "One day I became suddenly ill. Our friends were alarmed and called the 'doctor, Miss Sahib.' I soon recovered and now they are quite willing that you should come to our house." She had nev^r seen a Sahib (i. e., missionary, really "Your Worship") nor any foreign woman but Miss Lore. In this way "the doctor, Miss Sahib," opened hearts and houses. She was at r length welcomed with tender embraces and asked to tell about the "new religion." El- derly women would call her "daughter" and listen tearfully if she would sing a hhajaii, a Christian hymn to a native tune. Those who were not exactly sick would send for the doctor to beguile i n conversation the time that hung upon their hands. They were faithfully told of Christ and His salva- tion, and many longed clara. m. swain, m. d. for peace in Him, but profession meant banishment from home. After the" physician, followed the Bible reader with tracts and portions of Scripture, and words of love and experience, and these produced in the zenanas results of which we cannot now speak in detail. There are now in India a vast number, more than one million, of homes where teaching is done, and the zenana school is a great institution. The Gospel is taught in but few, yet the effect of them all is to arouse and guide the women of the land, and the result is sure to be beneficial. Out of the mission day-schools came slowly the Sunday 39 pi ''« m& if? m '' ■ iriiljllji. ,, ^^^ Mm ^' \M0£-t ■: " r 6io THE STUKV UF METIIUUISM. school. Parents were greedy of secular education for their children and consented, to obtain this, that then, should be some use of Scripture. Soon the Bible was a text-book, and the Catchism, and then came prayer and preaching. Craven, an experienced Sunday-school woikcr, came to Lucknow in 1871, and took charge of the school work. He soon invited all the boys to come to a Sunday-school. Many came and, finding it good, brought their comrades, and the work went on until soon every school in the mission became a Sunday- MISSIONARY TENT LIFE, INDIA. school. The annual picnics arc joyous and effective. The "honor-men," boys and girls, who have had no absence or lost nv. lesson for the year, ride upon a stately elephant, furnished often by some native nobleman, and the beast's capacity is many times taxed by the number of successful scholars. The singing, the sports and the refreshments make the holiday complete. There is a good supply of Sunday-school literature. This year the Sunday-schools of India have about twenty-five thousand scholars. Provision is made for higher education. India had always been a land of schools, such as they were, and, just before our METHODISM IN INDIA. 6ii mission was planted, Lord Hcntinck, govcrnor-pcncral, had orcjan- izcd a groat system, witli universities at Calcutta, Madras and Bombay. Of this, the masses, the poor, s^ot Httle benefit. Schools, as we have seen, were soon connected with the missions. In 1872, D. W. Thomas, a missionary, gave twenty thousand dol- lars to found a theological school at Hareilly, for he saw how the young native preachers needed thorough training to cope with Brahminical and Mohammedan teachers, and wiui the growing mind of young India. Every false and infidel notion of the world was coming, or was liable to come, with the new intellectual AN HINDU SCHOOL. life now dawning on the land. To this, Remington, of Ilion, New York, added five thousand dollars, and the sum became sixty-five thousand dollars. It is now prosperous, graduating, in 1885, nine, of whom five are good Fnglish, as well as vernacular, scholars. There is a normal school with four graduates. The theo- logical school, all others in India having failed, has shown how the wants of t^^ ; land may be skillfully met, and other Churches, after thirteen years' watching of its processes, are now establish- ing their own after its pattern. Of many other excellent Methodist schools in India there is here no need of mention. •i flH^Pf I^BV^ fWCflmS ml t i 'ml Ml/nil »I)1>M IN INDIA. 613 111 1870, that W'illiain I'ajlor whom \vc saw in CaUfornia came to Iiuha. He had been to Austraha by a long road, a }-ear in ICn^land, antl three years in the regions of Austrah'a and the Soutii I'acific. lie had tlu-n spent four year;* in South i\frica, where twelve hundred colonists and seven thousand Kaffirs had been brought to Christ under his labors. Thence by the West Indies and Hritish (luiana, he reached India. The missionaries gave him a hearty welcome. lie is a fearless, independent man, who marks out his work, and does it, fond of breaking into new, hard work. Dr. Thoburn yearned for revival work, for something beyond the routine, for invasion of territory outside of the lines, and he had urged Taylor to come and help them. He came, a giant in l)(itlily strength, silent of habit, majestic in his long, white bearil, indifferent to what might be said, with no 'if" in his talking, lie had come to work in revival, and a week after him the revival came. His meetings were singularly quiet, but powerful. They broke all the slow routine, and brought in life and victory. He was not able, for various reasons, to affect the native masses but he gave courage and impulse to all workers. He then went to the larger field of Hombay and South India, lie there organized of his converts, at their request, a Church, self supporting, evangelistic, with no distinction of caste, language or color. The Eurasians, the business men, but lost from Christi- anity, were moved by his appeals and came to his support. Lay- men who could preach in various tongues were raised up to help liim. Mohammedans, Hindus and Parsees were reached, and the times of refreshing had come. Missionaries came from America, and Churches were formed in South India of men who paid the ex- penses of all movements and did not wish the Gospel as a charity. Taylor then went to Calcutta. " The hardest work of my life was here and under the greatest discouragements. A great work of God was what Calcutta least tlesired and most needed. A more convenient season would never come ; so I determined, as the Lord should lead, to win the battle or die at the guns." After months of labor, only fifty-three were gained. In 1873, Taylor's Churches were brought into the Methodist Connection, having ten preachers and five hundred members. Dr. Thoburn took charge in Calcutta. Taylor then went to i 11 i ii if^. m mi^ *p f i ,*;. W ' r,^^ ■1 [. •, u H W7': MP^THODISM IN INDIA. 615 Madras, the only rcmainin<; groat city, and labored six months. Three hundred and forty had been converted, but some of these joined other Churches, but a good society was formed, as wa^, soon after, the case in other cities of the region. Soon Taj'lor went to America, still working in many ways for India. At length, in 1875, he visited, after eight years' absence, "my wife and boys" in California, and soon went to South America on another great cvangeliz.ng tour after his firmly-held Pauline ideal. He left in India a record of hearty labor under the greatest I ■ 'hi Pfrt m ■ ' ! 1 ' •;■' ;?i 1) 6i6 THE STORY OF METHODISM. of difficulties, and he broke the way through appalHng barriers into new regions where men of his spirit have followed suc- cessfull)-. In Calcutta, Dr. Thob.irn entered at once upon revival work, which can hardl)- be said to have ceased after ten years of progress. A church holding two thousand was built and paid for. It is now uniler the care of J. M. Thoburn, Jr.. and is a center of religious power, thougti its actual growth is not large on account of its constantly feeding other enterprises. Calcutta is a great sea-port, and the first member of Taylor's Church was captain of a vessel. In 1875, Mr. Oakes, an Eu- rasian, was led to visit seamen and in- vite them to t h e meetings. Soon Christian ladies be- gan to visit for sing- ing and prayer the resorts of sailors, asking them to at- tend service. Man\* \^' ere g a t h e - e d in from the dens anel dives; captains in- \ited preaching on their ships, and soon RAM CHUNDER liOSE. ^ scameu's M. 1;. Church was organized. The work has been good and salutar\- On the church premises are a coffee-room, reading-room, inquiry- room and boarding-rooms, with residence for the missionar)- Sometimes a dozen men are converted at a meeting, and effort> are then made to form praying b.uuls on their respective ships, so that each, as it goes from port, may- be a floating Bethel. The best of men are choker, for the work, at present B. T. Edtl\- and C. W. Miller. There is also at Calcutta a thriving native Church where service is in Bengalee. iL-i. \'V g barriers owed suc- /•ival work, f progress, for. It is center of Dii account 3f Taylor's as captain 1. In 1875, :s, an Eu- as led to nen and in- ;m to the ;s. Soon ladies be- sit for sing- prayer the of sailors, liem to at- iice. Many It h e *• e d i n dens and iptains in- iching on ;, and soon M. 1.. alutarx- 11 s |ii, niquir\'- ^lissionar)- md efforts hips. Itive s r Bethel. T. Eddv kh where Aim miM MhA m m III i -If tri' »t k \) :,.i CM •ill's Ml i1 ! ' i 618 THE STORY OK METHODISM. There is an inebriate asylum, and schools which were made necessary by the fact that existinij schools were either ritualistic or Romish. Dr. Thoburn has of late done evangelistic work with most excellent results. Last year he was, by a broken leg, unable to serve, and was recuperating in America. His work has reached to Rangoon in liurmah, where S. P. Long has a Church and a large and laborious field. Singapore, an island fifteen hundred miles from Calcutta, the center of a great and growing trade, has now been occupied, and Mr. W. F. Oldham, who, with Mrs. Oldham, is Eu- rasian, and of rare talent, has there gath- ered a society and a great door opens. Gifted men have arisen in the Method- ist Episcopal Church o f I n d i a . Dennis Osborne, an Eurasian, a n d R a m C h u n d e r Bose, a Hindoo, vis- iting this country at General Conference, have won the highest esteem. Dr. Tho- burn affirms that, it Christianity were to die in America, there is enough of Church force and faith in India to take hold and re- store it. Last year, 1886, was the most prosperous of all years. In an evangelizing tour in Oude, three villages were wholly con- verted and baptized, and the South India Conference were calling for twenty-five men to enter immediate service. We must leave ampler tletails. Ep^ugh h".s been told to show that Methodism is in India, acting its beneficent character fully out, doing its own work, and inspiring its evangelical neighbors to do theirs in love and harmony. ^'^ '^ihI^HI^I Ik F \^^^^^^^^BI^^ ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H ijalll ISABEL THOBURN. CHAPTER XLIX. Methodism in South and Spanish America. if,,, '.1 0M. ETVVKEN the United States and Cape Horn, the M. E. Church, after it came to abihty to do foreign work, found a Hne of Sta'-'^s now getting ifjT^ clear of the Old World and propos- ing to govern themselves. The peo- ple were Pagan or Romanist and twenty millions in number, and the New World below us was to be what they should make it. It was natural to count these needy people the first claimants on missionary benevo- lence. In 1835, a Mr. Pitts was sent to examine South America, and on his report Mr. Spaulding was sent to Rio Janeiro and Mr. Dempster to Buenos Ayres. In Rio, the preaching was not allowed in anything that looked on the outside like a church, (a queer statute!) and in Buenos Ayres it could not be in the Spanish language. The Romish Church did its utmost at multiplying obstacles. There was enough to be done ; the Scriptures, at least, could be circulated. Spaulding soon had in Rio forty hearers, and Kidder came to his help. They opened a Sunday-school, the first effort ever made for the blacks, and had a weekly prayer-meeting. At this time, 1836, Rio was a bad place. It had one thousand priests, but no pra\'er r.m C\ I'KKSS GARDENS OF CHAPULTEPhX OR CALLED "HALLS OF MONTEZUMA," MEXICO. METHODISM I\ SOUTH AM) SPANISH A.NHIRICA. 621 or sermon for the people. The priests were low in morals, and cared about religion only enough to oppose with fur\' the efforts of the missionaries. Not one in five hundred of the people, or in one hundred of the priests, had ever seen a Bible. By the aid of the Bible Society and of some generous h.iig- lish merchants a great many Bibles were distributed. The mis- sionaries also preached on board ships in the harbor, especially those of their own navy. Mr. Kidder traveled extensively. He was the first Protestant minister to visit San Paulo. He found one priest who welcomed the Bible and aided in its circulation. As he was just feeling able to preach in Portuguese, the sudden death of Mrs. Kidder compel- led him to return home. P"or various reasons the work in Brazil was given up to the Presbyterian mis- sions already estab- lished there. The Methodist Church South has now in Brazil flourish- uig missions D. P. KIDDER, D. D. There remained the work in Buenos A}Tes. The first Prot- estant worship in the city was held by a Baptist, Mr. Thompson, in 1820. A Sunday-school was onened the next year, and a Presbyterian mission was conducted It was closed before Demp- ster's arrival in 1836, but worship was continued without a pastor. The awful Rosas was then Dictator, but he welcomed Dempster, only warning him to keep to the foreign population. The city is to Europeans the avenue to South America, to which come four thousand miles of navigable rivers, flowing through fertile regions. Dempster found an ample foreign population (now fifty V W 622 THE STORY OF METHODISM. ^■5 ill . r i>.- thousand), and to these for twenty years the work was limited. He was an able man, and soon there was need of buildin<^. Then war came on ; the society was in debt and its workers were re- called. Three years later came peace, and the stir of business was sudden and immense, and all life revived. Before recall, Dempster had done well. His parsonage was finished and his church nearly so; his day and Sunday-schools, his church and conirrcgation were respectable. BUENOS AYRES, ABOUT 1840. All were sad at the stoppage of the work. At Montevideo, a petition to Bishop Hedding, headed by Tarros, the Swedish consul-general, set forth that the removal of Norris, the missionary at that place, would leave them in darkness and ignorance, as painful as a relapse in fever. At Buenos Ayres, the foreign resi- de its guaranteed one thousand a year to support Norris, if sent to them. He was ordered to sell out the plant at Montevideo and go to Buenos Ayres. On Christmas, 1842, he received at the latter place a hearty welcome. For f^ur years he was blessed in his i- MKTIKJDISM I\ SOLTIi AM) SI'AXISII AMERICA. 623 labors. Most of the time a civil war was raging, but he kept his flock and it grew in spite of the evils that accompany war. In 1846, he came home, and Dr. Lore was his successor. During four months of interval, sermons were read and meetings sustained by the members. Dr. Lore was in service until 1854. Mr. Carrow, who succeeded him, found on every side the fruits of eight years' faithful labor, even in troublesome times. In the Church were about eighty, gathered amid the long storm of war. In 1855, the last revolution ended, and Carrow urged prompt extension of the work. His labors met obstacles and misfortunes. Half the gatherings were lost, and Mrs. Carrow's health failing, he had to return home. Dr. Good- fellow now took charge of the work, and the time of the divine favor drew near, when the seed sown in tears and toil was to bring its harvest. He managed the mission thirteen years, and rarely did a month pass without conv(M-sions. There were wars, cholera and earthquakes, but in spite of commotions, there was progress. In 1863, a school for the poor was begun, and this proved a true and efficient aid to the mission. In 1872. a beauti- ful church edifice was erected, for which long efforts had been made, beginning in 1864. In that year, Dempster, the first mis- sionary, died, and the church, though long in building, was truly his memorial among those whom he had well served and who held him in lively remembrance. The work no;v spread, and, as in the rest of the world, it had its heroes, George Schmidt, who, besides liUEiNOS AYRES M. E. CHURCH. 624 THE STUKV OK METHODISM. his German, spoke many tongues, undertook the Bible work. He carried his pack over thousands of weary miles. The priests, to whom he always first offered his books, often got him thrown into prison, but he was always able to defend himself in court, and the more his persecutions, the larger his sales. Mobs were unable to do him harm. He had been a kleptomaniac, who could not sleep unless he had stolen something, and for this he was in prison in Brazil, when a Bible from the Jiible Society was the means of his conversion, and his propensity to steal troubled him no more. He worked as cooper, and with his earnings bought Bibles to give away in gratitude for his cure. He, at last, went into the service of the Bible Society, and there wore himself out. He died in a rude hospital, alone and uncared for, but he had won the record of a good and faithful servant. After a prayer-meeting, a captain of the Argentine army, blazing with new uniform, arose and declared himself an Aura- canian Indian from Southern Chili. His people, he said, had convents and the like, but " no good." He had been baptized, but was, for all that, a pagan. They had schools, but he could not read, for they were never taught that. In the meeting, his heart had been touched with the simple, spiritual worship. He begged for a missionary. His tribe were sowing and reaping, making butter and cheese, living in their own houses, but had no light. " I will build you a house about as good as this." This was Antonio Ncgron, a chief of that great tribe on the Pacific coast. There was no missionary for him. Charles William Pearsoiv had come from England and en- tered business with his brother in Buenos Ayres. On his birth- day, August 5, 1865, his mother, widow of a Wesleyan minister, a lady of culture and faith, wrote from Leeds : "I have been all day in prayer for you, and now just at night my prayer is answered; you are to be converted and become a minister ; I know not when or how, but my covenant-keeping God has said it." At just the same hour, after a thoughtful day, Charles was writing to her: " My plans are changed ; I am to be a Christian at all hazards ; Christ first and business afterwards, if at all." The letters passed each other in mid-ocean, and six weeks after writing were read at their destinations on the same day. Charles at once became active in the mission, such an ally as cheered all hearts. He MEIIIUDISM IN SOiril AM) Sl'ANISlI A.MKRICA, 625 ork. He jricsts, to rown into t, and the unable to not sleep prison in nns of his more. : Bibles to t into the out. He had won tine army, an Aura- said, had I baptized, t he could eeting, his ship. He d reaping, but had no IS. This he Pacific lid and en- his birth- Iminister, a ;en all day [answered ; |v not when .t just the nr to her : hazards ; |ers passed jre read at te became jarts. He afterwards graduated at ICvanston, and lias long been professor of English in the Northwestern University. Urquiza, Governor of I'^ntre Rios, in 1866, welcomed the missionar)' to his own town of Urquiza, and gave five hundred dollars towards building a church. John F. Thomson, whose family had come from Scotlantl, and whose " mither," deepl\- imbued with lessons of " the great ha' Hible," found congenial fellowship at the mission, was to be a sheep farmer. Dr. Goodfellow turned his thoughts to an educa- tion. He was converted, and spent seven years amid the enno- bling associations of the Ohio Wesleyan Universit}'. Returning in ibu6, he resumed his Spanish, and enriched it with all the resources of his education. The next year he heard of Mrs. Aldeber. This lady was born in Patagonia, the southernmost town in the world, on the frontier of civilization. Here a lady from Spain was teachio'y, and " Fer- mina" became her pupil, and very dear. The lady had a New Tes- tament, and when her loved P'ermina became Mrs. Ak' • lt, she gave it as the choicest of bridal presents. Years after, Fermina, a widow with four children, teaching at Boca, not far from lUienos Ayres, heard that a clergyman in the city was preaching from her now old, worn book, the Testament. She invited him to her house, and service was there sustained for ten years, and then she removed to the city. At her home was converted Cardoza, a sailor of reckless char- acter. Conversion it truly was. His life was at once transformed after Christ's dear image. He began a faithful support of his family, and also tbe leading of his friends to Christ. In a yellow fever, that in 1871 wasted the city, he, with another convert, gave his time to the sick, saving more patients than the physicians, and bringing many to the Saviour of souls. He then took his religion to a colony on the northern frontier, to the Gran Chaco, where for ten years it has been a light shining in a dark place. The first Spanish sermon in Buenos Ayres was given by Mr. Thomson, May 25, 1867. His audience was more than the house could hold, and of the best people in the city, legislators, professional men and prominent citizens crowding with the common people. The preacher frankly stated the difference between his Gos- pel and that of Rome, so that the Spanish work might rest on 40 .f-Nll :' '-i 1 i ivM AMAZONIAN INDIANS WORSHIPING THE SUN, MLTIIODISM IN SOUTH AND SPANISH ANHIRKA. 627 clear fouiulations. Me had a ^ood hearing, as also on Tuesday evening afterwards, and the new work was fairly be^iin. In 1868, three sailors came to the parsonage to intjuirc where to find lod^in^s and labor. They staid to a pra\'er-nieetiri,<^, and all be<;an the Christian life. One of them, Mathiest)n. opened a sailors' home for an evening resort, and b)- da\- ^^ave his time to labor amonLJj the hundreds of seamen in port. lie could speak- half a do/en lan<;ua|4es, and thus reach men of many nations, lie had some trials, but i;ood success. One mornint^ he found him- self without mone}' or breakfast, but he never stopped work. Me found at the post-office a letter with two dollars, which a sailor, dv'in^- in l^ni^land, had sent him in <:;ratitude for kindl)' ser\ice. Mathicson afterwards served in New Mexico, the northern border of those ninety millions of Si)anish peoples on whose southern border he entered his work. The most eminent lady in literature that Spanish America has ever produced, Senora de Norhona, known wherever Spanish is spoken, became, in her last years, a devoted laborer in our Church and Sunday-school. Ju.st before her death, her pastor found her with the Bible given by her class open before lier, and herself praising God for His goodness. The Romish priest re- fiised interment in consecrated ground unless she would renounce Methodism. She quietly chose to die trusting in Christ alone, and to rest in the Protestant cemetery. In 1 87 1, the first Spanish service was held in Rosario by Mr. Wood, who afterwards became professor of Physics in the Xational College in that city. " By their fruits ye shall know them." Our missionary has, besides spiritual results, formed a society, like Henry Bergh's, in New York, that has banished bull-fights. The bull-ring was torn down, and in its place came a decent cattle show, with premiimis. The temperance work, too, has prospered, and the W. F. M. S. has done well. In Montevideo, Thomson, in 1868, was politely greeted, and liere he had a lively experience. In the State University, a famous Romish doctor was asserting the divine authority of the Apocry- pha. Thomson was invited to answer him in the University Hall On the evening of their statement of the question, a most intelli- gent audience crowded to hear " the young heretic." At the OH Hit I I m nr^ Mfi I? ^1 628 HIE STORY OF iMKTHODISM. next mcctini^ the masses were not adniitted, and in place of the doctor a well-fed j)riest appeared, who refused to debate unless the jieopjc cotdtl hear. Thomson agreed with him, and offered to atljourn to another place, but the padre could not do that without his Hishop':^ consent. The next Sunday nit^ht the plump padn,' came to Thomson s, and, askin<^ to say a word for the ("hurch, talked on for r.ome mortal hours. Thomson appointed to answer him on Wednesday ev^enini^, but that night fell seriously ill, and his physicians forbade all labor. Me, for rest and recovery, left the town. Then trumpeted forth the fat father a victory ! His portrait he had sokl on the street as " I^'riar Mans'- 'to, the con- queror of Thomson." Soon his victim was back in fair health, and Mansueto, callini;" on him, urt^cd him to enter the Romish, or, if he would keep his family, the Greek Church. " It was too bad to use such splendid i^ifts in a Church so crude and dark as the Metliodist, v/hen he could have a j,reat career in the True and Holy Church." The lon o > C rr. r. X C c r > c v c 3 — r -■ 1 ■ ^ > .j" 1 «. .. ..•■V': .^i: ' .;, -c _i..- 1; ■ 1 m 1 mf^ I 1 j «: 1 m 1 K^ «y \h*^ -^.'§ P. . ^'mB' ■ ^ffifir ntfaP^f^k Mi^K* - -""^l p .1 i^Sl fl ■1 Hli hS ^ ! ■ '^I'aBi;"^?;'!;^ ? ^'/I " ^m il. ■'i:iii|tj'iU.ii. , 'iMfl W'r-^^^i 'A t Mf r - \ u V^^^^^^^^EI^M^=^0_ ^^a'sBf 1 .: I f ft , ^ -',} K^ mt W^M^' I^B -*■" f**- ';^i/:.F'*'' rii. t li^ 1 \ V V \ t' .i^^ • * iii i , . ^ 1 1 ^ ^ ^>t^ 630 THE STURV OF METHODISM. ff If/ with the aid of the French I'Lmpcror. Mexico had years of sad, bloody history, never to be repeated. After the lon^ storm was over, the vast Church and proper- ties, save churches used for worship, were confiscated, and all con- vents and monasteries abolished. A great door was opened and all Churches hastened to enter. There was need of it. Every bad thing of Rome had ruled and the condition of the people was dreadful. William Butler, now come from India, was taken to Mexico by liishop Haven, with money given by the founder of De Paw University, to open a mission In Puebla they bought the grounds and buildings used by the Inquisition, where many a poor victim had come to agony. In the capital, ground far more historical was gained, the very site of Montezuma's palace, where, three hundred years before, Cortez had seized the Emperor's pers'^.i and handed his country o\-er to Spain. On this stood the Monastery of St. Francis, where four thousand monks had been fed by people to whom they had done no good. Under the noble Juarez and the new laws, this had become the property of those whose toil had built it, and for near three centuries sui)ported it. Better mission property can be found nowhere in the world. It is • i the very best p.M t of the city and provides for every want of the enterprise. The work went on briskly, and soon there were four congregations in Mexico. In 1873, Dr. Cooper, of the Episcopal Church, having an English congregation, united it with the Methodist, and entered the Meth- odist Spanish work. Toward the end of the year the Romish priests grew furious. They had had rule in Mexico three hundred and fifty years, and the people were weary of them. In half the families of Lhe coun- try there had never been a lawful marriage, and all other morality was of the same sort. There was a giowing call for Protestant service. The priests tried violence and murder. Twenty Chris- tians were killed, and churches were plundered. The government did its best. The Archbishop, whose word would have stopped all outrage, let it go on, and to his Church's damage. For now ten years all is peace. At Puebla, where the legend is that angels worked on the cathedral by night as the workm m did by day, thi' Church hail owned nineteen-twentieths of the real estate, and did mv)st of the METHODISM IN SOUTH AND Sl'ANISH ANHiRICA. 631 business of the city. Of course there was devotion to Rome even after the confiscation of its property, and the first Protestant preacher, Dr. Riley, a Presbyterian, had to fiee for his Hfc. At the first Methodist service, January, 1875, only two persons dared to come. In April, the public were invited, and the street was full of a noisy mob, whom a rain in good time scattered. In Au<;ust, the new premises were used. As native preach- ers were needed, a school for training converts was opened in 1876. Since then the favor and energy of the government has secured rest, and the work has prospered. Guanajuato, a city o f e i g h t y thousand people, in a rich re- gion, three hundred miles north of the capital, among fat lands and silver mines, was reached in 1876. The Governor heartily we 1 c o m e d the missionaries, and promised them pro- tection, and premises were secured. The Bishop gave his peo- ple instructions, and they raised a mob, L...._ h e a d c d by t h r e e ^^- J- ^'- butler. priests, to wipe out the mission. The Governor ordered the chief of police to disperse the mob in ten minutes, or he would call out his troops. The chief obeyed, though himself in sympathy with the mob. The mob did not rally, and soon was preached the first Protestant sermon in this important city. Two obstacles hindered early progress; one was requirement of the marriage ceremony, the other was bitter personal i)ersecution. The former was soon to be a duty, the latter diminished. Mexico is so near us that we can understand its condition. Religion there has for ages had nothing to do with morals. M- •.:. >> i ■ '■y:>\ \ idC >• \) 4 ii III m ill ill 111* I m Nil' ['. ■ §' i'f' ik "ii m m >> M t:r ■ 6^2 •rHI-: STOKV OF .METHODISM. Robbers cross themselves devoutly, and houses of ill-fame are dedicated to the VirL^in. It is a land of ^ross darkness. But it is a rich land, and must in time be a good land, and many Chris- tian [)eople are working to help it. The V. V. M. S. has an orphanage in the capital. I:/ /lhi\i^a(h, a Christian advocate, is a beautiful journal, read in the palace of the President, and many tracts and books are printed and circulated to enlighten the peo- THE Cirv OF iMEXICO, pie. Up to 1X86, two million five hundred and ninety-five thou- sand five hundred and ninety-one pages of religious literature have been scattered by Methodism south of tin- Rio Grande. There are fourteen hundred in societ)-, and 'liree times as many in adherence. The Church South, also, has theij a od and thrivimj work. MinilODISM IN" SOUTH AND SPANISH AMERICA. 633 II- fame are ^ss. But it lany Chris- . S. has an vocatc, is a ;, and many ;cn the peo- Thc Theological School at Pucbla has three teachers and sixteen students. The Spanish work of New Mexico is now in its second )ear. Thomas Harvard, superintendent, has twenty-seven preachers in Spanish, all faithful men; one, David i\l Wah (Uavid Alvah), the onl)- native Arabian Methodist preacher in the world. S. N. Thornton. Superintendent of the ICnglish work, is building at Albuquerque, a hopeful University. II I-' ' j> Ity-five thou- lous literature Rio Grande. nies as mau)' SHll' I'RliACHlNl. Iinvmir wo rk. I1J ft:*;: ' n. 1 •,' ■ ^' Iffl 1 ■ sHi m w u< 1 m m oi CHAITKR L. Methodism i\ EuRorE. F the work done by Methodism in Scandinavia (Denmark, Nor- way and Sweden), we will first tell. It be<^an in this country. "Pastor Hedstrom," born in Sweden, was a tailor in New York, in 1829, he was converted and became a preacher. Ber^ner, also a Swede, broui^ht out of the depths of wickedness, a carpen- ter, was deepl)- affected at the condition of his countrymen, who came to New York either as sailors or emigrants. Soon others were interested, and a ship was boui;"ht at Pier 11, North River, and named "John Wesle)'." This became a church, and, to Berf:^ner's threat joy, I led- strom, as pastor, held there his first ser- Fifty Swedes were present. The first Methodist con^re<^ation in America, eighty years before, was five. The ship became an asylum, a labor and emigrant bureau, a dis- tributing center, not only for Swedes, but for all North luiropeans. Its good influence was felt far and wide. The emigrants pressed on to the frontiers, and soon societies were formed in the W^est, in Iowa and VV'^iscom-in. vice, May 25, 1845. &f. \ -: t il '' i» fill »' k h i|: 636 THE STORY OF METHODISM. In 1850, twelve thousand Scandinavian seamen visited New York, so that Hedstrom's task was great, while W'illerup found in Wisconsin twenty thousand Norwegians needing his labor. Hoth enterprises went on together, the ship being receiver, helper and distributor of people for the western Churches. Hed- strom was for a while relieved by Petersen ; a new ship was bought, antl this afterwards moored at Harrison street, Brooklyn, but the work still goes on. Hedstrom died in 1877. Of Scandinavian members in the M. I'L. Church in this country, there are now twelve thousand, and usually of a solid, spiritual, intelligent class. Correspondence from these awakened religious interests in their native land. Converts even made the home voyage to tell their kindred the tidings of salvation. Hedstrom had made such a visit, antl had seen his father and two brothers come to the Saviour. Petersen went on like errand to stay a month and could not get away until after a year. He was then sent by Bishop Waugh " to raise up a people for God in Norwa)." He went to his native land as a foreigner, being an American citizen. He found some offended at his coming — as if, forsooth, they were heathen! — others at his doctrine. Yet, after a year, in 1854, Itc had fifty " with us in heart and life." His labor was chiefly at Frederickshalt, The State church, which by law could make every preacher show his credentials and swear to obey the laws of the land, and made every man record his pastor's name, was a tedious eneni)'. Willerup now came to his help, and at Sarpsborg, in 1857, a church was built of funds raised in the town. .Soon one was built at Frederickshalt. Willerup then went to Copenhagen. As years went on. the special glory of Methodism as a /rz'iva/ was seen in the State (Lutheran) Church. It built chapels, sent out laborers and stirred itself with new life and zeal, though it heartily opposed the Methodist efforts. There is now a Norway Conference of over four thousand members. In Trondhjem, the "Land of the Midnight Sun," the north- ernmost point yet reached by our Church, is a society of about fifty, so near to the Paradise F^ound, the North Pole, home of Adam and Eve. In Denmark, Willerup began work in 1857. A church was dedicated in 1866, in Copenhagen, but Viele became our chief mm METHODISM IN KlKOI'I:. ^^57 *c arc now station. The Lutheran Church feh the zeal of the new-comer, and put forth commendable efforts for preachin*,' and Sunday-schools in ne1- MKIIKJDIS.M. island of Gottlancl. Soon there was a ^rcat rc\ival at Gottcnbur^, ami the ^Vrcluleacoii of the State Church bade it (iod-speed. Ill iSO.S, there were re\i\als elsewhere, and at Karlskrona the people built a neat chapel, some li\-in|^ on two meals, and others pawning their spare cIothiuL; and furniture to get money for it. This was the secontl Methodist buihiing in Swetlen, a W'esleyan Mission Chapel having, in 1S26, been built at Stockholm. In 1870, a rich man at Monsteras opened his house for meetings, and at Karlskrona a leading business man, Kringelback, was con- M mm ^V'^ METHODIsr CHURCH, CFIRISTIANA, NORWAY. verted. He jjroved his sinceritx' b\- beginning to pray morning and evening with his hundred and twent)' employes, and to preach to them on Saturday evening. Soon eighty of these came to Christ. He also gave liberally to the general cause. At the end of 1 87 1, twenty chapels were counted, and the preaching had reached royal ears. One preacher was fined, another imprisoned, but at Warburg, where these anno\'ances were worst, the work grew, and soon a fine chapel was built. The King's counsel had at last prevailed for a modification of ( METHODISM IX KL Ui U'l! <^i9 the ri<;itl laws, and, in 1.S74. •• The Swedish McthocHsl Episcopal Church" was formed, In T'cbruary, they presented their petition (ioil em llification of to his Majesty, who was deeply moved, and blessed th be with you, my people!" It took a year to y;et their charter, throui,di loni,r and weary formalities, but in the year three hundred were added to the societies. A training;- school was established at Orebro; a Hook Concern and periodicals, " Sandebudet," and all the fixtures and features of Methodism became facts accomi)lished. To-da\' there are in Sweden six thousand in society, with about ten thousantl in Sundax'-school. The book aijent is a mem- ber of the Diet, or Le<;- islature. The countr\' is poor, but the last \ear, one of constant revival, has been the best e\er seen. In I'^inland, the nobility are aidinL,^ the societv at Ilclsinsjfors. A minister of j;o\ern- ment and his sister, the Princess Karamsin, have attended and dealt generously. Thus, in the icy North, Methodism, like the Christianity of leroy m. vlrnon. d. d. which it is only a fresh movement, is warmini;^ and cheerinf^ human hearts. As we trace it in every climate and continent, anions; \ arious kindretls and tongues, we find it alwa}'s and everywhere the same. Tn 1832, Charles Elliott, whose Irish warmth made his con- victions ardent, had become persuaded of the utter apostasy of the Romish Church of to-day. He came to look on a Romish land as a heathen land. It was onh' natural that he should ur^^c a mission to Italy as a duty pressing on the Christian world. For forty years, or nearly, his idea was counted as a pleasantry or at >! 1 ' i UM 640 THK SroRV OK MKIIIoDISM. least as a thin^^ impracticable. In 1S70, tin- (jiiestion found a vit^- orous advocate in (iilbert Haven, and ^ainctl a favorable hearinf; with the Missionary lioaril. Leroy M. Vernon, son-in-law of Dr. ICIliotl, was asked to ^o as missionary to Italy. He was surprised, but, ^Mvin^' no diri'ct nej^ative, was appointed, and in the end of June, 1S71, he sailed for the ancient land. On hi.s way he consulted in London with the Wesleyan missionar)' secretary, who had ten )'ears before be- l^un work in Italy. Arrivinj^ at Genoa, he found a true friend in (). M. Spencer, U. S. CcMisul, and there he fi.xed his home. His next work was to ex- plore the land through w h i c h h e w a s t o "spread Scriptural holiness," and to per- fect himself in its lan- j^uage. The political state of the country, the feelings of its peo- ple, the condition of the Romish Church, and the progress of other missions, hatl to be carefully exam- ined. He came to see that Home was the Rev. teofilo gav, d. d. truc place for t h e mission. The Wesleyans proposed to join their work with his, but separate friendly labor seemed preferable. Strangely enough, Gavazzi, one of the most eloquent men of the century, and cham- pion of Protestantism and "A Free Church in a I'ree State," op- posed the coming of the mission, as if it might complicate and weaken the Protestants. The headquarters were fixed at Bologna, but it was four months before a {)lace for public worship could be had, so bent were the priests on keeping Vernon out, and, meanwhile, a hall was leased at Modena. Here, in June, 1873, was the first service METHODISM IN KL'Kol'K. 641 hcariiv^ •A to <^o direct ic saiUd Ion with :forc be- friend in LT. U. S. there he iiK'. ni> as to ex- d through was to Scriptural nd to per- ■ in its hm- c pohtical ^' country, of its peo- ,ndition of h Church. roL:;ress of ions, had [ally exam- ame to see was the for the •k with his. :ly cnou'^h. and cham- State." op- phcate and lit was four lad. so bent Ihile, a hall first service wltn sixty presei It. and the next Sunday as nian\- atlentled the openin^f of a hall in H(.l();^Mia. Work was bc^^un in Forli and 1 ;\avenn :i also, these four towns beinsjc near each other. Of course there was opi)osition. A priest showed in a pamphlet that Vernon's doctrine was atheistic, immoral and retro- grade, fair of face, but all serpent besidt,-. At a public meetini,% n to discuss the pami)hlet. the priest did not api)ear, and Verno turned the adjectives ami the man-serpent fii^ure upon him and ith bold and successful demonstration. Now came his doctrine w a valuable helper. Dr. (iay, a French Prot- estant of piety, learn- in*; and general cul- ture, whose ancestry were of the lonj^-suf- ferin H N tn 50 a and nature At Are/.Z(^ near I'Morence, a church was now secured on a lonc^ lease. In front of it, across a thirt\-foot street, is a house wall, on which is painted a Virgin and Child, iVfore this at night IT 646 TIIK SruRV OF METHODISM. ' t \ <■•! is hung a lightcl lamp, fed by the house-owner, and there it has ghu-ed upon the rude, staring picture, while across the little street has shone tlie true and living light. liaron Gattuso, one of Garibaldi's heroes, took charge of the work. The W. F. M. S. now, in 1877, put three women into service as Hible readers, and also Dr. Stazi, a fellow-student of Lanna, a man of high culture and attainment, took charge in Milan. It is remarkable that so many of the very best Italians became preachers, and by this the work was at once, socially and intellectually, respectable. In 1878, a journal, La Fiaccola ("The Torch"), was intro- duced. By reason of the stream of travel, the work in Italy, and especially at Rome, has been more noticed than any other in the world. It is small, but it is on historic soil, wet with the blood of ancient and modern martyrs. Here, in the ground now used as the Protestant cemetery, out on the Appian way, and marked by the Pyramid of Cestius, which was built for other uses, Paul the Apostle laid down his life, and missionary zeal might well grow warm in such a vicinity. There is opposition enough. It drives the priests mad to see the work the mission is doing, but there is steady progress in all good things in Italy, and the darkness of a thousand years is disappearing. Bishop Hurst, in 1884, dedicatetl a beautiful church in Bo- logna, and a Catholic chapel in Pisa was bought, repaired and dedicatetl. An Italian church at (leneva, Switzerland, the home of Abel Stevens, the Methodist historian, has joined the Meth- odist Conference. Dr. Caporali edits a Oinvtcrly Review, and in every way Italian Methodism has a complete life of its own. It has twelve hundred in society, with t\\i-nt}'-ri\c preachers. The largest societ\' — of about two huiulred — is at I'Morencc. Thus the Story of Methodism in the fairest of all lands is the same as elsewhere. Bulgaria is the wide region below the Danube, and is to be the probable successor of Turke)' in luirope, as Armenia is its probable successor in Asia. In 1855, Dr. Riggs, of the vVmerican Board, urged the Methodists to send missionaries to this countr\'. The Bulgarians were of the Greek Church, but not of the Greek language. They wanted religious services in their own speech ;:»,NPw;'n'' METHODISM IX EUROPE. 647 and a Church of their own, Messrs. LoiiLr and Prcttvmaii were sent in 1857. Reaching Rutschiik, on the south side of the Dan- ube, they found a fertile and beautiful land, the Protestants cordial and even "the unspeakable Turk" kind and tolerant. They set- tled at Shumla, forty-fiv^e miles from the sea, and began the study of the language. This was a trying task, and it was long before they could tell the people their errand. Mr. Flocken. who could speak Russian, soon joined them. Mr. Long soon went tc^ Tir- nova, a city near the Balkans, the finest in all Bulgaria, having thirty thousand Turks, as many Bulgarians, and alone of all cities BULGARIA MISSION. of its size in the world, not a single Jew. l-'or this city the Romanists were making a desperate struggle, offering the people the protection of the poi)e and the aid ot P'rance. The leading citizens, howex'er, turned to Protestantism to find life for their ("hurchand hope for their land. 1 )r. l-ong began to preach in Bulgarian, December 24, 1859, with fifteen hearers. .\11 Catho- lics were warneil, under {)ain of excommunication, not to attend his preaching, but his congregation grew. A Bulgarian priest ((ireek) cami.' to him t(~» ask tlu' loan of a liible. He com])lained, with tears, of the impiety of his peoj)le. "I am poor, weak and ignorant; whac can I do? My peoj)le have 11 . • ' "- . ' 4 . ■ ,. ■, ■ ■.»■}■*. »' k \\ M'^V -I'l 'it < l!h [mi 648 TllK SroRV OF MKlIloDISM. no instruction and will not licar niiiic. If I ask thcni to pray they say tht-'V' arc not i)ricsts and the pras'lni; is my business. 'Ihe)- call themseh'es Christians, hut the\' ilo not lo\-e Christ or kee[) His coinniaiulments. I went to my superior priest and asked for a J^iijle. lie said the Hihle was not for me to read and I had no business with it. Xow, I am a pri-st, and I do not see why I should not read the l^ible." IClieff, the hrst Protestant con\-ert in Buljjjaria, had found Christ in rt-adini;' a Trstament from the jirilish Bible Society. He did not know that tlui-e was anotlu'r in the world th.it felt as he did. lie was surprised to meet a colporteur who held his views, ;ind, .L,^oini;' to Constantinople, he learned from the missionaries the fidl nature of the faith, lie now came to Dr. Lon^ and be- came a permanent ami \aluable helper. In Shumla, meanwhile, some |'iro_nress was makin^^. A youni;- German, who was ^t^oin^ to Jerusalem on foot to pray for the fioul of his dead mother, \' ~ conxerted. A jouulj Jewess became a true belie\-er, and I'"locken officiatetl at her weddinjjj, usin_L^ his simple ritual in the presence of quests of se\'eral nations. Some of the religious usages of the jjeople were stran^Lje. On St. John's Da}' the)' bai)ti/ed all strangers, and proposed to do so to the missionar)' ! December J4th was kept as the birthdax' of Colida, a heathen (leil\-, and th en. ilraL nn; a loi fi- om the woocIn, they cut ui)on it a rude human fice and drank themselves ilrunk to its health. It was time for a purer religion. Dr. Loul;' had a tasie for poetr)' and music and he put into lUd^i^arian man\' sweet sonL;"s, to-d, as "Jo\-fully," and the like. These the childr en [V are smuini: lie is to be called the pioneer makini^ the wa\- f )r western and Christian lite-rature into that lonu-ne'decteil land, and for this he will have an honorable fam e, wiien lUih ana shall talce her place amoiiu' the na lions o ftl le world ]\lr. Moekeii then went to Tultcha, near the sea II ere lie found a smuiilar ne-oijli the M o 1 ( I K In ti le last centurx', two \ouni ms. Russians, a x'ounLl man and issian embassa- woman, had <;"(Uie to l'"n.L;laiul as serxants of the Ki dor. Cominsj^ homi\ tin y told of I'n^ljsh Christians who met in dwellin;^ houses, without ima^e, cross or hoi)' candle, who did not fast or cross theiU'^eKes. )-et wt-re \-er)' pi(Mis and sincere. The)' and their friends tleterniined (piietl)' to do the same, 'fhey !<.>;• m MKlIKiDISM I\ EUROli-;. 649 put away images and the like, and on fast-days ate milk. For this they were soon called Molokans, from inoloko, milk. The}- were also called Nemoloks, non-wt)rshii)ers, from reiectin'^ images Czar Alexander i. had been favorable to them, but Nicholas treated them like a savage, though the}- were now one million of his best subjects, and many had fled to Turke\- where Mr. JTocken found them. He was present at one of their meetin^^s. It was simple, scriptural, but imperfect throui;h i^Miorance. lie was anxious to supply their lack of knowledj^'e, aiul tluv were "lad M ' .1 ■: t the wooch, inan man\- t man and In embassa- THE FIRST RUSSIAN M. K. CHAPKL. of his idea of comint; amont^ tliem. Me felt sure that those two ori<^inal Alolokans had in ICni^land bi-en at Methodist meetings. In May, i(S6o, he opened a school in Tultcha, assisted the Molo- kans and distributed tracts in German, Russian and Bulgarian. In 1862, the era of storms and opposers came on, Dr. Long went to Constantinople and gave his time to translations, preach- ing in his own house. Flocken found his school hindered by the liabit of early marriage, and b\' a s\-stem of apprenticeship that takes boys from school at tweh'e. He was about to leave Tultcha when a rexixal began, and soon the first Russian M. K. Church '^ m >fum. « ^^^m^k Ih-^-. ,.,, MUi, si'- J,' ' '.-iJ* i. ."! Ot «• n-A'* ■1 ■■•. I i/(J w ■Xv« '■•'■'"'''dl' ' ''"■'■ n M II L^r. i o n (d iMliTIIODlSM IN KlRori;, 6:;i (1868) was ort:jani'zcd. There has never yet been a sccoiul. There were nineteen in socict)-, with a Siindaj'-sehool of thirtN-fue. Opposition and (hiTiciilt)- of man)- sorts set in, and the mission was alaandonetl. Dr. Lon^j becatno professor in Roberts College, where his learnin;^ antl talent still keej) him in i^reat usefulness. A native Russian, I'etroff, staid by the Church in 'I'ultcha, and Mlieff served a place, Sistoff, and itinerated. Mrs. Clara Proca betjan a useful service as Hible reailer, but Flocken and his helper came to America. In 1873, the mission was resumed. A new man, Dr. iiuchtel, was sent with Mr. Flocken, ami in learnin^^ the lan^niai;e, the con- version of his teacher was his cheerin<; introduction to Hul^'arian work. The country was now cut loose from the Greek Church, but not for the better. Several native liishops forbade the read- in*^ of the liible, and foreii^ners were not welcomed. Dr. Huchtel had to come home for Mrs. Huchtel's health. I^Mocken and h'dieff did their best, and Mrs. I'roca, supported by the W. V. M. S., was very useful. The dreadful war between Russia anil Turkey now bei:jan, and the massacres in some parts of I^uli^aria shocked the world. Bishop Andrews came in 1876 and ordained the faithfid IClieff, the first liulj^^arian Protestant, the first I^uli^arian Methodist l^reacher. The effect of the war was now felt near the missions. The Turks became fierce and cruel, and there was no safetv. After much sufferini,s Flocken and other Americans came home in 1878. The same year he returned for a while, and Messrs. Thomoff, a liul^arian, a graduate of Drew Seminary, and Challis, who had already betMi in service in the countr\', were Liter sent. The prospect in this worn and wear\' land is n^piritual relifjion. There are now one hundred in the societies; Miss Schcnck, of the W. ¥. M. S., has at I.oftena a thriving school, and the attentions of herself and her pupils to the wounded in the late stru^^les have done much to win the hearts of the people. m.;' « I l« ' » \l t 1 i ■ ■* < f.' u. « %\ M 'H;8;»:i ''if..;'. irfw^rfi'''. 652 THE STORY OF METHODISM. German Methodism, in both America and Germany, bejjjins with William Nast. He was piously reared and thoroughly edu- cated, but he came out (jf the University of Tubin<;en with his relij;ion spoiled by philosc^phy. In 1S2.S, he emigrated and became tutor in the fatnil)' of Mrs. Duncan, of Duncan's Island, in the Susquehanna. There he saw Methjdist preachers and came to know of the M. M. Church. lie was then professor of German at West Point, where McIKaine was chaplain, who, with some de- vout officers, encourat^ed his religious feelinj^s. T^or three years he was uiulcr deep but varying" conviction, until finally, at a meeting in Ohio, he was able fully to give his soul to the Saviour, and enter into a glorious j)cace. His call to preach was clear, and he became German mis- sionary in Cincinnati. He had been favored with the best friendship of t h e I'^piscopal and Lutheran Churches, but he felt his home to be with the Methodists. He had learning a n d h i g h character, but he was nf heavy tongue; he could not sing, he felt quite un-Germanized. In his first year, he reported twenty-three awakened persons. The next year, he addressed the Germans through all southern Ohio, on a circuit of twent>'-fivc appointments. His seven con- verts joined LvUglish societies. In 1837, he formed in Cincinnati the first German society of the M. E. Church, having twenty-six members. A convert of his first year, John Swahlcn, a good singer, began to help him. In 1839, Swahlen, being now a preacher, built in Wheeling the first German Methodist edifice. It was dedicated in 1840, and the society is still flourishing in its WILLIAM NAST, D. D. iiy, bc|Tins i^hly ctlu- 1 witli his rated and , Island, in and came L)f German 1 some de- liree years deep but :tion, until nieetin^^ in able fully oul to the ,Miter into a >. His call i clear, and erman mis- ncinnati. 1 f a V o r e tl friendship copal and irches, but )me to be odists. lie a n d h i i; h he was nt he could felt quite 1. :d persons. ;dl southern seven con- Cincinnati twenty-six en, a good ;ing now a :list edifice, shing in its METllUDISM IN EUROrK. 653 succsssor on Chapline Street. In 1839 was issued the first num- ber of the Christ/ ic/ic Apo/oi^ctc (Christian Advocate). In this year, too, was converted Jacoby, a young physician of broad and thorough culture. He was born in Mecklenburg, an Israelite of the tribe of Levi (?),andwas now in Cincinnati in his profes- sion. He was, by a deep experience, fitted for an effective career. In 1S41, he was sent to St. Louis, where he began his work with but one converted German, while mobs and oi)posers were fierce and many. Dr. Nast now devoted his time chiefly to the spread of ]VIetlu)dist doctrine and life through the agency of the press. Wesley's sermons and other standards of Meth- odist doctrine were trans- lated into German in rapid succession. The A pologctc aroused the fiercest opposition of the Roman Catholic church, antl became a fearless defender of evangelical Christianity. The pio- neer work of German Methodism was baptized in the blood of its early adherents, by mob vio- lence. In years, hardly R«^- i-^'I^wig s. jacobv. fifty years, the German Methodist work has spread over all this country. It has the ApologctL\\\\\\\. nineteen thousand subscribers, llaiis II. Herd, with seven thousand five hundred and forty-seven ; The Sunday-School Bell, thirty-eight thousand ; The Inreaii Leaf ( Bihelfo/cker), thirty-nine thousand five hundred, and other Sunday-school publications, its Church catechism by Dr. Nast, its Church hymn-books and collection of Sunday-school hymns and songs, the latter being widely used in other German Churches and a respectable collection of other books. The Western Book Concern publishes more German works than any book house in this country. The chief institution of learning is the German Wallace Mm •PI 'I IH;! M k h I : IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) V ^ /, 4. A f/. 1.0 I.I JfrIM IIM U Mi £ US i2.0 11-25 lil.4 1.6 Photographic Sciences Coipordtion 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 872-4503 iV iV \ :\ # ■^ O'^ A '-i ■ ; M 654 THE STORY OF METHODISM. College, Berea, O. This dates from 1864, having been preceded by a German department in Baldwin University, at the same place. There is still free access between the two institutions. There is a Biblical department ; and over one hundred and sixty have gone from it into the ministry. Here, too, is an orphan asylum, opened in 1863, the first in the Methodist Episcopal Church of the United States. There are altogether five Methodist Episcopal German schools or colleges in this country, of which nine-tenths of the cost was paid by Germans, two orphanages and the foundation for a Deaconess school, in Kansas City. Of members in German societies there are about fifty-two thousand in the United States, and of preachers six hundred and forty- seven, and these contributed to missions in 1885 an average of one dollar apiece. Such is the American train of results following the conversion of Nast in 1835, and he still lives to look and labor, as he edits, for now forty-nine years, the Apologctc, In 1844, Nast was sent to Germany to prospect for a mission in the old father-land. He knew how for a century the masses of Germany had been godless and unbelieving, and those who, like himself and Jacoby, came to America had the better chance of becoming Christians. So many of these wrote home of their ex- perience that one said : " Every letter is a missionary." He found one Muller, who, fleeing to England to avoid serving in I^onaparte's army, had there become a local preacher, and, returning after twenty-five years' absence, was preaching as a Wesleyan missionary in VVurtemburg. Nast was glad to find Muller's work very prosperous, and he believed the good man could fill the present demand, as the State Church elsewhere refused openings. Muller died in 1858, but the Wesleyan Society continued his work and it prospers to this day. All Europe was shaken in 1848 by political revolutions, and one result was that the German Diet, under popular pressure, de- clared full religious liberty for all Germany. This was construetl to have reference only to the Lutherans and Catholics, but the free cities, at least, were open, and, in 1849, Jacoby was sent to Bremen. His soul was sorely tried, and he longed to return from a godless land to one that had Sabbaths. He could find no place to preach, and his first sermon was in Aachen, Impression was i H'- 1 METHODISM IN EUROPE. 655 made, but his next sermon, at Aachen, was unheard by the gay, Sundayless community. At length he got the Krameramthaus, a public hall at Bremen. It seated four hundred, and was on the evening of December 23, 1849, packed and crowded. He soon got a hall twice as large, and that was crowded. He went to a vile suburb where he was often interrupted and preached to the unwashed. At Baden also, fifteen miles away, he had a school house full. At Easter, twenty-one converts formed a class, and on May 21, 1850, the holding of a Quarterly Confer- ence fixed the birthday of the mission. The same day came the first issue of a Methodist religious journal in Germany, that land of reading. Already a thousand hymn books had been sold, and the demand for books was wonderful. Bcr Evangelist began with two hundred subscribers. This year the Book Concern prints about thirty-five million pages. Jacoby was soon unable to meet the growing demand, and Doering and Nippert was sent to his help, and with them came Dr. John McClintock. On the day after his arrival, Nippert preached on a barn floor near Bremen. Horses and cattle, pigs and poultry were all crowded unwillingly by the congregation, and their discontent made a very mixed scene. On the Sabbath, Dr. McClintock preached the first English sermon that had been delivered by a Methodist Episcopal minister in Germany, and on Monday evening was held a meet- ing in behalf of Africa, at which over five dollars was given, being Germany's first missionary collection for the Methodist Episcopal Church. Sunday-schools now came to Germany, one of eighty children being formed at Bremen, and another at the hard suburb, wdth the ponderous name, Buntenthorsteinweg. The Lutheran Churches soon and widely were forming them. The first exhorter was Fiege, licensed in 1850, and Jacoby foretold truly that Germany would yet be sending preachers to America. A watch-night was held at the end of the year, while a ball was in progress on the floor above. The meeting was too much for the dancing, and the throngs crowded the hall, and the occasion was one of divine glory and power. Methodism had surely entered Germany. Now began the period of persecution and of annoyance. A 656 THE STORY OF METHODISM. yfiAfiii^iJ'w-W •5■^■ if-' ' ^' w mm''^wm^{ '■■■ 664. THE .ST(JRV OF METHODISM. In the matter of singiiiLj as a part of public worship, Wesley's views were too correct to be superseded. " Let all the people sinj^ ; not one in ten only ! " We have seen lu)w Charles Wesley san^ the Gospel, putting Scripture into verse and music as if he were himself divinely inspired, lie put the Story of Grace into the people's lan<^uage ani.1 the i)eoi)le's tunes, so that all could sin<,% and to-day hardly any Christian people sini; six hymns without including one of his making. At Bolton, 1787, Wesley's heart was glad. He had put a short stop to what he found at Warrington. "A few men who had fine voices sung a psalm which no one kne\v, in a tone fit for an opera, wherein three or four persons sang different words at the same time. Wliat a burlesque on public worship ! " At Bolton, about one hundred boys and girls were taught to sing and, "they sang so true that, all singing together, there seemed to be but one voice. In the evening I desired forty or fifty of them to come in and sing, 'Vital Spark of Heavenly Flame.' Some were not able to sing for tears, yet the harmony was such as I believe could not be equaled in the finest chapel." He returns afterwards. "The spirit with which they all sing and the beauty of many of them so suits the melody that I defy any to exceed it, except the singing of Iw. angels in Our Father's House." Music at worship, by a quartette of artists, is certainly not Methodistic or scriptural, A concert or a Diusicalc is quite another thing. The Sunday-school is the true feeder to congre- gational singing, and Wesley would be glad again could he see (perhaps he sees) how the singing of the societies has been in late years improved by the happy training of the Sunday-school. The use of tickets to love-feasts has been discontinued. In Wesley's plan these were certificates of standing. Membership in the societies was held to be a privilege to be retained only by Christian activity and usefulness, and the quarterly visitation of the preacher in charge was to ascertain, as far as possible, each member's religious character. In this country, the ticket system has gone out within the memory of those now living. It was found that few cared to come in who were not already serious, and that it was better to put no hindrance in the way of their coming. The love feast is a place of joyous witness for Christ, and it often happens that such witness affects some hearts more VREi: Mi:rii()i)isM, and somk i iiA.\t;i; ok i^ack. Cc deeply than any formal sernioii. The ticket systetii was therefore easily discarded, and the love-feast has come to be a puhlic service, in which bread and water are taken tot^cther in token of Christian friendship, and the time is j^Mven to cheerful, soul- expandin> the others, and all teachers know how aptly scholars appreciate and relieve each other's difficulties. In England, non-attend nee renders one liable to exclusion from the society on the ground that wnen he became a member that was a clear condiiion, and he agreed so to do. In America, exclusion has not been counted as a penalty for non-attendance, this latter not being held to be an offense "that woidd exclude one from the kingdom of grace and of glory." Still, the moral obligation exists, and the class meeting is in most societies highly valued as helping a life of light and victory. In America, too, circuits early begun to break up into stations, and the informal usage prevails by which prominent Churches practically select their own pastors. Still these modifications are not enough to justify the state- ment that Methodism in this country materially differs froui Wesleyanism in England, or from that which Wesley founded. In India, Dr, Thoburn was once surprised at seeing eleven men come forward and ask for baptism when he had had no time with them for inquiry and instruction. It was a critical moment. His helper, native, told him that if he put these men off they would be discouraged. Dr. Thoburn baptized them at once, con- trary to all usc'..;e, rather than leave them in the prxarious and unsettled condition of inquirers. They were thus fully and promptly brought away from heathenism and committed to p i» h M l';,f 666 THE STORY OF METHODISM. Christianity. He was glad that he put aside Church usage, and gained souls, for these men prospered. Reporting the case to l^ishop Kingsley, the robust answer was : " Under the Methodist Diseiplinc it is alivays nght to do the best yon can under the eircnnistanees." His decision relieved the faithful missionary from many a difficulty, and uttered the true spirit of Methodism. These changes in Methodist ways and usages are partly due to the influence that has come to it from other Christian bodies. The lineal source and origin of Methodism was from the Church of England, the Protestant Episcopal Church of this country. To this day the Wesleyans occupy a middle ground between the Dissenters and the National Church. Some societies are still found using the liturgy arranged by Wesley from the Anglican Prayer Book ; some Wesleyan families send their children to be confirmed by state Bishops. Not until this year have they voted to call their societies churches, and their chapels churches. So in New England the Congregational Churches formed the aristocratic class, and Methodists were at first held to the support of those Churches. Methodism there has for that reason had a peculiar type, more decorous and self-controlled, with pewed churches and written sermons. Not, indeed, behind in labor and sacrifice, and to-day no people are nobler in their Methodism. But, meanwhile, the Methodists have influenced their neigh- bors. It has been especially the revival Church. It has gone beyond metaphysics and doctrinal statement, beyond sacrament and ceremony. It has used a working theology, believing this thing first of all that men should be up and doing what is put in their power to do. Sinners are called straight out to conversions ; backsliders are warned and heartened to return, converts are bidden to tell what God does for them. CAZENOVIA, N. Y., ABOUT 1840. usage, and ic case to Methodist under the missionary lethodism. partly due ian bodies, he Church untry. To ;t\veen the :s are still e Anglican dren to be they voted rches. So Drmed the lie support ason had a ^'ith pewed labor and lodism. leir neigh- has gone sacrament ieving this it is put in nversions ; nverts arc CHAPTER LII. Methodist Liierature. 5!r„" rsLrt them were JOHN \VESLFA^ as we have seen, was not only a scholar, but he also held that literature, like the Gospel, was the heritage of mankind. He early began in earnest to restore men to their heritage and to unfold and enrich it for their benefit. His own direct effort to scatter books and tracts widely by large sales and low prices dates from the Foundry, in 1739. He made some profits, and with these he aided need}' preachers and promoted the work of the Gos- pel. His own publications in sixteen years had come to the numb':r of one hundred and eighty-one and treated a variety of useful subjects in a manner fully up to the Jidvancc of his day. Many of these went through twenty editions and most of sold at less than ouc shilling each. They thus came " 1 >' i»: i!iM^ 'ii 668 THE STORY OF METHODISM. }\ . into the hands of the poor, and well used they must have been, for at Wesley's death many had vanished or could be had at only the highest prices. The Hymns sold quickest, as was very natural. Charles Wesley, before his conversion, had written nothing. It was in the dingy street of Little Britain, in the heart of London, that he found peace and the fountain of his poetry was unsealed. One might visit the street, as one walks through Smyrna, and thinks how here with Homer began the immortal songs of Greece and the classic world. John had already published some hymns, but when, three days after Charles, he entered into peace with God, the brothers began a poetic career together, in which Charles outstripped his brother. Their hymns were simply the expression of their own feelings. A new hint soon came to Charles. His preaching was one day interrupted by the rollicking song of some sailors. He told them to listen to the sermon and come the next day and he would give them a song to their own tune. They came and he had for them his "Listed into the cause of sin, Why should a good be evil?" Mi Thus putting hymns into familiar tunes, he found ready sale for them. With the songs went other books. ''See that every house is supplied with books" is Wesley's direction. In 1778, he began the Anninian, the second oldest religious periodical in the world. It is now called T/w Wcshyan Methodist Magazine. For the publication of his works Wesley soon had a "Book Room" near the Foundry, and afterwards on premises adjoining the City Road Chapel. This Book Room he willed to trustees, who transferred by legal process until it came into ownership of fifteen trustees, who are members of Conference, and into the management of a "Book Steward." At the Centennial, in 1839, its premises were enlarged to meet the demands of a grcatU'-increasing business. Here \\\\\ published the London Quarterly Review and eight other periodi- cals, and the issues have been over twelve millions a year. Its publications stand well in the general market, and are sold by all dealers. IP METHODIST LITERATURE. 669 "m The Book Concern of the Church in America has long been the largest religious publishing house in the world. In 1787, as we noticed, it was determined to proceed with the printin*'- of "our own books," and soon John Dickins, with six hundred dollars of his own finding, began the business in Philadelphia. There must have been good profit, for besides six hundred and sixty-six dol- lars and sixty-seven cents salary, and a house to the agent and as much to the distressed preachers, there was a payment of eifht hundred dollars to Cokesbury College, and sixty-four dollars to the Bishopsfor schools. The whole profit must have been twenty-five hundred dollars a year. In 1797, a book committee to examine and decide upon publi- cations was created. In 1 804, the Concern was removed to New York. T/ic Methodist Maga- zine, though ordered in 1796, was first pub- lished in 1818. It is now The Methodist Re- vieiv, under the effect- ive editorship of Daniel Curry. The Youth's Instructor began in 1823 and in 1826 The daniel curry, n. d., ll. n. Christian Advoeatc appeared. In periodicals, New England could not wait, for its Missionary Magazine began, in 181 5, at Concord, and Zion's Herald, with pages nine inches by sixteen, the first Methodist weekly in the world, and still one of the best, was started at Boston in I023. The financial history of the Concern showed good manage- ment, Ezekiel Cooper took charge of it in 1799, finding four thousand dollars of property and three thousand dollars of debt. In 1804 he had a clear capital of twenty-seven thousand dollars. In 1 8 1 6, the capital was eighty thousand dollars. In 1820, Dr. Bangs i ; l^^ I 670 THE STORV Ob' METHODISM. n ( I •■:^M r. took vigorous hold and soon had a manufacturinfj house in Crosby street. In 1820, the difficulty of transportation made desirable the planting of a Concern at Cincinnati, and from this and that at New York, branch houses for the sale of books were established in various cities. The Advocate soon hati thirty thousand sub- scribers, being more than any paper in the land was having; it also advertised the books. Soon more room for the plant was needed, and in 1833 an immense house was built in Mulberry street. This in 1836 was burned, at a loss of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Public collections were taken, yielding ninety thousand dollars ; some insurance was realized and soon the Concern was at work. At the di- vision of the Church, the Concern paid to the Siouthern Church two hundred and seventy thousand dollars, to- gether with all its prop- I erty, debts, accounts, etc., in the South, being in ratio of its number of traveling preachers. The Church South then plant- ed its Concern at Nash- JAMES M. BUCKLEY. D. D., LL. D. ... „, „ Editor of the Christian Advocate. VlUc. The ConCCm WCUt on prospering and twenty years afterwards, bought the iron building, 805 Broadway, for salesroom and general offices, still retaining the Mulberry street plant as a manufactory. To pay for the new building, which cost seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars, bonds at par were issued, the last of which were in the year of 1886 redeemed and burned. In 1889, a vast edifice will be seen at the corner of Fifth avenue and Twentieth street. The si.x hundred borrowed dollars which, in the hands of John Dickins, founded the Concern in 1789, will at its centennial have become an inmate and owner Tf^'. METHODIST LITERATURE. 671 c in Crosby Ic desirable and that at established usand sub- having ; it ; plant was 1 Mulberry indred and id dollars, tions were ng ninety liars ; some IS realized le Concern At the di- Church, the id to the !hurch two 1 seventy ollars, to- its prop- ounts,etc., being in number of chers. The then plant- 1 at Nash- ncern went the iron Ifices, still To pay ' thousand ^ere in the r of Fifth 'ed dollars ioncern in md owner there. It will have a home worth a million and a quarter and a net capital of two millions and a half, with annual sales of two millions and a quarter and a profit of two hundred thousand dol- lars. It will be issuing four thousand five hundred books and tract publications, and the daily average of bound volumes will be three thousand. Of all book and tract issues there will be a mil- lion pages daily. Could John Dickins look down on all this, it would be with wonder and delihte. Of all periodicals the Concern now issues nineteen, and be- sides these arc fifty-four published in the Church interest; in all METHODIST BOOK CONCERN, NEW YORK. seventy-three. If to these we add the half million working capi- tal of the Church South with its valuable plant and its twenty-five periodicals, the publication houses of the other branches of Methodism in America, we have some three hundred periodicals and a publication capital of three millions, with all which that suggests of print, circulation, and reading. These figures are im- mense and "need explaining." The explanation is simple. Some of the Methodist preachers have the finest talent for affairs, and their calling has its secular and financial side on which they find exercise and development. Their brethren see this, and thus s . k i i 672 THE STORY OF METHODISM. it some of the best business men living come to these agencies and their success proves their gifts. Then, too, all traveling preachers are agents. In this way it has happened that only once has the Concern suffered by frauds in management (a trifle, oi an over- seer in the bindery), and never by a defaulting agent. While so great a financial success, it has done vast good to the minds of nearly three generations. It has called into existence kindred associations, and nearly every Church has now its " Book Con- cern" under some form and name, giving religious literature at low prices to its people and to the world. The origin of Sunday-schools and the opening of the first one in America at Crenshaw's in Virginia, have already been given. In 1790, Sunday-schools were recognized by the Con- fere nces. Directions for their formation w^ere given, but there was no general or- ganization of them. Dr. Durbin prepared a Question Book, and the first Library Book and others followed. In 1827, a Sunday-school Union was organized, and its starting was successful. At the first annual meeting, more than one thousand Publishing House of thsM. E. Church South, Nashville. SCllOols and sixty thoUSand scholars were reported. For various causes the Union declined, but, in 1840, it was reconstructed. At its report, in 1845, the at- tendance of scholars was nearly one-third of the number of com- municants in the Church. In 1876, the scholars almost equaled in number the Church members. The Year Book for 1886 gives the members, one million seven hundred and eighty-seven thou- sand three hundred and thirty-nine, and the Sunday-school scholars, one million seven hundred and ninety-six thousand aud thirty-four, showing a great change in forty years. The number of conversions during this last four years was two hundred and ninety-seven thousand eight hundred and three. The objec' c*" the Union is to collect money from the METHODIST l-irKRArURE. 6/3 ;encics and ; preachers ice has the i an over- While so e minds of ce kindred [3ook Cen- ter atu re at of the first been given, lay-schools )y the Con- actions for vere given, general or- hem. Dr. a Question rst Library s followed, day-school ed, and its essful. At meeting, thousand thousand declined, 45, the at- er of com- st equaled 1886 gives even thou- day-school usand and le number ndred and from the Churches, and to aid weak schools, as well as to plant schools in destitute places. For this purpose it receives about fifteen thou- sand dollars per year. Closely connected with it is the Tract So- ciety, which has usually about the same income. Of Sunday-school books there are one thousand three hun- dred and fourteen volumes. Of the Teachers younial one million copies ; of the Classmate two million copies, and of the Advocate over four million copies have been issued during the last four years. In treating of the Church South, as well as of some other branches, the Method- ist Episcopal Church being in fact the parent stem, we will give some- thing of the style and success of these various institutions as found among them. Under the vigor- ous leadership of John H. Vincent, Secretary of the Union since 1868. Institutes have been in- troduced. These are held in the Church dis- tricts once or twice a year for the training of the teachers in the best methods of teaching ^ . . O. P. FITZGERALD, D. D. Scripture and 01 man- Editor The christian Advocate, iM. E. Church South. aging schools. These Institutes are continually enlarging into Assemblies, where the best talent in the country is cmplo}-ed and the schools of a conference are represented. These are now found from Maine to California, and furnish at once delightful resorts for summer recreation, and some days of valuable instruc- tion and intellectual activity. The first of all and greatest is at Chautauqua, under Dr. Vincent's own guidance, to which, and what has come of it, a chapter will be given. Closely connected with the subject of literature, and summer and general study, is the general work oi" education. Nearly 43 674 THE STORY OF METHODISM. every Conference in the M. E. Church has its Educational Society, the object of which is to collect and manage funds for the educa- tion of Christian workers, chiefly those intendinj^ ministerial or missionary work. These societies expend part of their income within their own limits and send the remainder to the General Board at New York. This T2ducational Board was formed in 1868. It is made of *:welve trustees, half being laymen. The funds under their control were given at the Centennial of 1866, and have been increased by gifts and collections, until now one hun- dred and ninety thousand dollars are safely invested. Of this sum, the annual inter- est is spent by the Board for the follow- ing purposes: (i) To aid young men in pre- paring for missionary work. (2) To aid them in preparing for the ministry at home. (3 ) To aid the biblical and theological schools. The receipts of the Board in 1884 were fifty-six thousand one hundred and eightv- fivc dollars. A siniilai Board among the W'es- leyans in luigland has JOHN SUMMERFIELD. long doue like service. and the Methodists of Canada have the same system. "Children's Day," the second Sunday of June, has come to be a Church festival. Its aim is to enlist the children of the Sunday-schools in the cause of education, and to commend especially to their sympathy, and plant among their growing ideas, the education of such of their own number as are to serve in the Gospel during the generation in which they themselves are to live. The ardor with which the day is welcomed, and the generous giving usual thereupon, are very hopeful for the future volumes of the Story of Methodism. Its collections are for the education f. w METH O I ) I ST LIT E RAT L' RE . 675 nal Society, ■ the educa- inisterial or icir income the General 1 formed in Amen. The )f 1866, and )\v one hun- d. Of this mnual inter- :nt by the the foUow- ies : ( I ) To men in prc- r missionary (2) To aid preparing for try at home. Id the biblical ^ical schools, pts of the 1884 were lousand one ind eit^-hty- A si\nilai iv^ the Wes- uiirland has like service, has come tn Idren of the |o commend lowing ideas, 1 serve in the are to live, le generous lure volumes le education of missionaries and ministers from Sunday-school scholars. In the matter of authorship and literary production, Method- ism has to-day an honorable record. Its specialty has been preaching, and from the beginning until now "spoken speech" has given its men their chief repute and power. Of eloquent men it has had its share. Some of these were born orators. The most eloquent Methodist in America, since Whitefield. was John Summerfield. He was born, in 1798, at Preston, England. In 18 18, he began to preach, and immediately drew immense audiences. He came to America in 1 82 1 , with Bishop Emory, parth' for recovery of health. Here his first effort, at an anniversary of the Bible Society, marked him as the first platform speaker then living. He^ joined the Troy Coufer- ence, and was stationed in Xcw York, but no house could hold the crowds that pressed to j hear him. He had been reared I in Ireland and his tem- perament was Celtic J more than Saxon. In' Dublin, when a boy, he ^^v. george v,. cookman. used to attend the courts and after listening to a long trial he would say: "O how I would like to sum up!" At one time, being witness in a case of perplexing details, his testimon)- was so clear and gratifying that the Judge said to him : "You'll one day shine in the world." In New York, his address in behalf of the Institution for the Deaf and Dumb, the only one of his discourses ever published, was probably the greatest effort of his life. At his concluding sentences he dropped his handker- chief, and at the signal the children rose to their feet and stood before the audience with " Poor, poor dumb mouths." " I transfer r ■ d I ■ w ]' ^•je THE STORY OF METHODISM. these children to you. Behold them ! They now stand before you as you must stand before the judgment-seat of Christ." In a few burning words he so touched all hearts that a collection of one thousand dollars was taken, and on the plates were a gold necklace and several valuable rings. His career was most brilliant but brief. He died in New York in 1825, being only twenty-seven, closing his career at the age when Demosthenes and many other orators began theirs, but no American has in four years so deeply touched as many people, and children that heard him are still living to tell how his tongue entranced them. In the year of his death, George G. Cookman came from England and well-nigh filled his place. In 1839, he became Chaplain to Congress, and no chaplain has ever equaled him in eloquence and power. Members of Congress were converted under his service and all Washington felt the influence of the chaplaincy. He embarked in 1841 for luirope, on the steamer President, but the ill-fated vessel was never heard from. Two of his sons and a grandson have followed him in the ministry. Of later years no preacher has equaled Bishop Simpson in the power (in him but not of him) to sweep great assemblies with sacred eloquence, but of able speakers Methodism, North and South, has a good supply. chaiti:r Liir. Methodism Amonh; the Freedmex. OTHIXG in the ordinary strug5^rlcs of the world lias been so marked as one fea- ture at the close of the civil war, in 1S65. The separa- tion of the combatants left helpless between them a mass of five millions of colored people, a fortieth part of the ncL^roes of the world. Tlie government undertook the care and guidance of its wards, but " How small of all that human hearts eiulure Is that which Kings or laws can cause or cure ! " It was soon found that personal and or- ganized benevolence alone could do the work needed by these unfortunates. Their ignorance and immorality were such that only the patience of Christian love could labor and wait for their reform. The Frecdmen's Bureau was also in the eyes of southern whites a con- stant reminder of the recent struggle. It represented the party then controlling the government and was unwelcome to their eyes. Besides, the United States government is not patriarchal, 678 TIIK STORY OK MKTIIODISM. J ■ '■ H> m ""i*. KV \ and that any class of people should lean upon it for support is contrary to its theory of personal responsibility. Its doctrine of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness is that citizens help themselves, or, in some way independent of the state, help each other. The most unhoi)eful element in our Indian manaj^ement has been the dependence of the Indians on the government. As soon, therefore, as the immediate pressure was over the Freed- men's Bureau was discontinued and the relief of the colored people was thrown upon public benevolence, which meant — which always means — the benevolence of the Churches. As we have seen, the Methodist Episcopal Church, with the best desires to care for what seemed its natural inheritance, was heavily taxed to repair its '\ own severe losses by the \ war, and had few spare resources for the relief of i the "Brother in Black." We have seen how the lljj Church South heartily and honestly urij^ed the III formation of the colored Church, " de Chu'ch do white folks set up," and that this now contains the colored people who were under its care COLORED CHILDREN. " bcfo' dc wa'." To-day there are almost no colored people in the Church South. Bishop Keener says of his South Carolina Conference m 1885: "White membership, fifty-four thousand eight hundred and fifty-eight. Colored members, seventy-six, mostly sextons. Think of our Church in South Carolina as solidly white." At present there is not a colored congregation in the Church South served by a white preacher. The Methodist Episcopal Church began on the whole wisely. It sent teachers first. The Freedmen's Aid Society was organized in 1866, and in October of that year seventy-five teachers were sent to open schools in various places. The southern whites did not all take the matter kindly. Some felt it like a new invasion and there A MISSIONARY A CENTURY AGO IN.STRUCTING \-0- MiyriioDisM AMoNt; I III. iRi;i;i)Mi:\. 679 were instances of rude behavior. Gradually the work was better understood and it has come to be welcomed. Well it mJLjlu be, for it has been a vast blessin^^ to the South. There had Ixiii in some of the states no \!;ood school system even for the whites, and there were few good teachers to be hail for colored schools. These had to be brouL,dit from the North. The colored children be^i;an to learn with i;reat readiness. Trainin^^ schools were opened and young people of promise were taught the art of teaching and the work went on hopefully. In due time there was found to be need of still lower labor. The Woman's Home Missionary Societ}' was formed to do at the South, chiefly, what the Woman's Foreign Missionar)- Society was doing abroad. Its devoted servants visited the lowest places in cities and towns, as well as in the rural districts, S(Miglu out the most degraded, relieved their wants, read to tlu m tin.' liible and got the children and adults, too, into scho(jls. These women had some hard times in their faithful labors, chiefly from the cruel scorn of the higher white families, but the\' kept on. 'T1k'\- kmw of Whose cup they were drinking. In patience and long-sutfering they worked on, and in due time the good results appeared. What need there was of all this effort \ ill easil\' appear. There were in the South, at the close of the war, eighteen and a half millions of people, of whom si.x and a half millions were colored. Of these, eighty per cent, could not write anil nian\- of the whites were in as bad condition. Meanwhile, the M. K. Church was gaining rapidly in numbers. In 1S84, it hatl in the South over four hundred thousand communicants, of whom three- fourths had been added since the war, and these were about equally divided between whites and colored. The M. E. Church could not undertake to educate all these, but it did its part. It began with primary schools in cabins and did what it could to help the ignorant masses. When the states began to recover from the evils of the war, they went to the task of establishing public school s\stems, guided by the experience of the North. It has now come to be the case that elementary instruction is as well provided in the southern states as in most of the northern. The illiteracy is chiefly of those beyond school age, and the young, between six and sixteen, are fairly taught. The task of i^ i >■ : < t', n ' i < v;T,i ; 'i^. : !i If. 1 (>;;■. •Bit' 4 I*, m f!l Mi>. 680 THE STORY OF METHODISM. the society and of "de ole John Wesley Chu'ch" is now to pro- vide for higher instruction. The colored people are less inclined to mix with the whites in school, church and society than they were twenty years ago. This is seen in the fact that the Confer- ences were then mixed. They have steadily tended towards separation until now they are entirely distinct. At first the color- line was entirely ignored, and the man in black was accounted a full brother. Nature has asserted herself, and while as citizens the white and colored are to-day breaking up party lines and voting variously they socially are parting as gently as oil and water. This is not at the instance of the whites in cither Church or school. It seemed to be by the instinct of the blacks. The colored preach- ers were restless until they had Conferences of their own. The society has now to providehigher schools, training schools and pro- fessional schools, such as the state ought not to be taxed to support, and which in most of our states benevolence in some form supplies. About forty such schools are now operated by the society in the South. These have been carefully located, places being sought where the largest number of people can be benefited, and where there is the surest local sympathy and support. At Atlanta, "the Chicago of the South," is the Clark Uni- versity, already equal to any institution of learning in the South, except the magnificent Vandcrbilt University. It has at the edge of the city four hundred and fifty acres of land, rapidly rising in value. Its chief building is fitted to all the purposes of school and boarding. The students are trained in farming, blacksmith- ing and carpentry, and they themselves have built houses for the faculty, a Home where the girls learn all the arts of housekeeping and plain sewing. Thus what the negro most needs, training in labor, with right ideas of its fitness and dignity, and what the girls so greatly need, training in housewifery, plain cooking and GAMMON SCHOOL OF THEOLOGY, CLARK UNIVERSITY. ; ('. ;v ; now to pro- 2 less inclined cty than they at the Confer- nded towards first the color- is accounted a as citizens the les and voting oil and water, irch or school, olorcd preach- ir own. society has now higherschools, :hools andpro- ;chools, such as ought not to be support, and most of our lenevolence i n ni supplies, tysuch schools oeratcd by the n the South, ght where the re there is the le Clark Uni- in the South, as at the edge pidly rising in ses of school r, blacksmith- louses for the housekeeping Is, training in nd what the cooking and METHODISM AMONG THE FR'''j:nMEN. 68 I needle-work are found on the premises. There is ample instruc- tion in all the branches of book-learning. The Gammon School of Theology is upon the same premises, bearing the name of the giver of over twenty-five thousand dollars to build and endow it, being about half its entire cost. The Claflin University at Orangeburg, South Carolina, has a similar outfit of farm, etc. Instruction of this kind combined with manual labor elevates the negro. A mere getting of learn- ing tends to give him a peculiar reluctance toward manual labor and to unfit him for what he must surely do if he is to live and thrive in Dixie, or elsewhere. It is a relic of his old condition that he so often counts exemption from labor a blessing. Indus- try and economy are to be the lights of his pathway to improve- ment. It is therefore wise that the society in its schools keeps this constantly before him. In every state, from Baltimore to Marshall and Houston, there is a higher Institution. In Little Rock there is a Philander Smith College for the blacks (the same Philander Smith as at Tokio, Japan, and at Nankin, China), and there is a Little Rock Univer- sity for whites. Alabama has a school of moderate grade. In New Orleans is a University and at La Teche is the Baldwin Semi- nary. These are the only ones that compete directly with Roman Catholics. In all, the institutions for colored pupils are this year twenty- two, with an attendance of three thousand four hundred aiul sixty-one. For whites there are eighteen, with an attendance of two thousand seven hundred and fift}'-eiglit. The expenditures for the year closed are one hundred and seventy-four thousand, seven hundred and fifty-two dt)llars. During its career the soci- ety has spent one and three-quarters of a million of dollars. There are now in the South fourteen Conferences, composed of colored preachers. No distinction of these is made in the Church reports and no color line is found in the Minutes. The colored members i^refer to be by themselves and they are Methodists for all that. There are no colored Bishops. In the good time coming when separation shall have run its weary course, and there shall be but one Methodism in this land, these enterprises will thrive with flush life and vigor. One can hardly foresee Ikjw twr .-aces, so distinct and yet so similar, are to I If t' ■ .Mf/ 682 THE STORV (JF METHODISM. prosper on the same ground, under the same political rights and privileges. This has never yet happened since the world began. We must dismiss that to the distant future. There are no race troubles now, and piety and culture do not produce troubles. If this land is in the order of divine providence to show to the world the new sight of African and Caucasians living in peace, freedom and mutual regard, neither blending nor hating nor fearing each other, it will do the world good service, 1 'In'.' » . ,. ■ 1 w m llv' CHAPTER LIV. Methodist Bi:nev(jlences. « « u o OLLECTIONS for its various benevolent en- terprises come in the pleasant and various round of the Methodist year. The advantaije of a Connection appears in the fact that every itin- erant is an agent for each of these enter- prises, and none are paid as employes except the handful of secretaries who f^ive their whole time to the accounts and other interests of each cause. The Mission- ary Society is the oldest and largest of all the Church benevolences. Its origin and operations have already been given in various chapters of our Story. The humble, solitary movement of John Stewart among the Indians of northwestern Ohio and the elTort to support him and his work, as the Church was in honor and duty bound to do, led to the creation of a regular system of collections and distribu- tions. In 1 8 19, Nathan Bangs and Joshua (afterwards Bishop) Soule organized the Missionary Society, and the next year it was 686 THE STORY OF METHODISM. approved by the General Conference, It seemed to be for a long time a personal affair. Dr. Bangs was its sole officer for sixteen years, doing most of its work gratuitously while serving the Church in some other appointment. In 1841, Charles Pitman, a man of large views and of great sympathy and skill in address, took the new office of missionary secretary. His chief labor was to visit the Churches, to form societies and promote earnest feeling and liberal giving. On the failure of his health, in 1850, John P. Durbin was r""""^"''" ' "" "" " ! made his successor. • . '' ■ ■ ■ i j A new era came on, or rather the day of small things rapidly enlarged. His term of service was twenty- two years. In that time every foreign mission except Liberia began. The income of the society rose f r o m one h u n d r c d thousand dollars to seven hundred thou- sand dollars. He seemed to have all the gifts needed for the place, eloquence of the highest order, ad- jOHx M. REiu. D. D. uiiuistrative ability, and great tact and discernment in choice of missionaries. At his death Methodism had girdled the earth. When lie was no longei equal to the task the society ceased to be a \'()Iuntary undertaking and was made an organic part of the Church, so that every Methodist is a member of it. Its collections are a i)art of the regular finances of the Church, which e\'er\' one joining the Church solemnly promises to maintain " according as God prospers him," so that no honorable Methodist can slight it. John M. Reid, following Dr. Durbin, was in 1886 missionary secretary. The duties of the office have long been too great for one man, ^^ SB wT- METIIUDISI' IJEMiVULENCES. 687 and an assistant has been necessary. The present assistant is Charles C. McCabe, often called "chaplain" from his cheerful service in song and prayer to his fellow-prisoners at Libby prison during the war. Last year the sum to be raised was set at one million of dollars, and, while the senior secretary took the burden of office work, the lively chaplain was rousing the friends of the cause and all Methodists far and near to meet the demand. The society now employs one hundred and eighty-eight missionaries sent from the United States, with four hundred native helpers. It has about five thousand employed within the United States. The Missionary Society of the Church South is steadily in- creasing its operations. Immediately after the first General Confer- ence of the M. E. Church South, steps were taken for her first foreign mission. The Chinese ports were just oi)en, and Shanghai was selected as the place in which to beijin work. Dr. H. Jenkins, an luig- lishman, and Dr. Charles Tiixlor, a New Yorker, wlio were at that time in South Carolina. voung j. allen. were chosen to inaugurate the work. Thc\' were joined by Dr. Carnyingham, Dr. Lambuth and Dr. Allen. The war in the United States cut off the Missionaries from communication with the home office, but the Missionar\' Treasurer of the AT. 1*^. Church honored the drafts of the Southern Missionaries and made an advance which was repaid, principal and interest, after the war. Dr. Allen was now employed by the Chinese govern- ment as president of an Anglo-Chinese college and a translator. He retained this place for some years after the war ended and then was made superintendent of the mission. He projected and fc I k h 1 III if m m §% 688 THE STORY OF METHODISM. finally established the Anglo-Chinese University at Shanghai. There is a hospital at Foochow, and a high-school, and the Ladies' Board have a home school at Shanghai, Manziany and Suchow. The work is now (i888), decidedly prosperous and hopeful." It has done a good work chiefly in the region of Shanghai, and it has now twelve missionaries with nine native preachers. The Woman's Board has nine missionaries in China and the pi perty of both soc ies, Church and Woman, is one hundred and thirty- five thousand six hundred dollars. Bishop Wilson is now visiting this mission. It has a valuable hospital and excellent schools at Suchow. If only this mission could be made one with that of the Methodist Episcopal Church, how much greater would be the economy and efficiency of the work ! This mission cost last year twenty-four thDusand dollars. In 1873, the Church South established a mission in the city of Mexico. The chapel of St. Andres was built, and soon was gathered a society of eighty-three, with two native preachers and a free school for boys and girls. The revolutions in the state were singularly harmful to this little company, but now for eight years it has grown and prospered, G. M. Patterson being the superintendent of the mission from 1878 to 1886, and the only foreigner in the mission, his policy being to utilize native helpers. Spreading out from the city, there are now fifty-three stations, each as a light shining in a dark place. At these are five mis- sionaries, and other native helpers to the number of fort)'-three, and a membership of two thousand. The mission property is worth one hundred thousand dollars. There arc in the city two in- dustrial schools, one for girls and one for boys, and in the missioPi there are nineteen day-schools and sixteen Sunday-schools, with an aggregate attendance of more than one thousand pupils. Its support last year cost thirty-throe thousand dollars. The Mexican Border Mission is ojstained by the Church South on the Texan frontier. It has a difficult field, but it is able to employ niiu- missionaries with over thirty Mexican helpers. In view of the wild life of the border, and the poverty and ignorance of the people, the success of the mission is gratifying. It received last year an appropriation of twenty-nine thousand three hundred and fifty-five dollars. The Church South entered Brazil in 1878. In the great / at Shanghai, and the Ladies' ly and Suchow. and hopeful." (hanghai, and it reachcrs. The id the pi perty Jred and thirty- 1 is now visiting ;llent schools at lie with that of 2r would be the •n cost last j'car ision in the city :, and soon \\'as 3 preachers and ns in the state It now for eight Tson being the 5, and the only native helpers. -three stations, e are five mis- of forty-three, on property is the city two in- in the mission y-schools, with lid pupils. Its The Mexican on the Texan D employ niiu- n view of the orance of the t received last hundred and In the great k|i^ METHODIST BENEVOLEXCKS. 689 Empire it has been found that the hold of Romanism is relaxing. It has failed to make the people wiser or better, and there is a disposition to discard it and try anything that offers improvement. There are now in Brazil five missionaries of the Church Board and two of the Woman's Board. Four schools are in progress. In the societies are one hundred and thirty-one members The cost of the work last year was about sixteen thousand dollars. The domestic missions of the Church South need the greater CHARLES C. McCABE, D. D. part of its funds which, in 1885, amounted to two hundred and sixty-seven thousand two hundred and sixty-three dollars. The amount judged proper to be raised in a given year is estimated by the missionary committee and assessed. The assessment of 1885 ^vas two hundred and sixty thousand dollars, so that the in- come was a happy advance of over seven thousand dollars upon the expectation. The Church Extension Society of the M. E. Church was 44 H f I » H' •:5.' ■J ri', ' 690 THE STOKY OF METHODISM. orpjanizcd in 1864. Its object is to aid in building churches in places now weak, but of fair promise, and it aims to do this in a systematic and safe fashion. It is an interest very difficult to manage ; first because it can help only those who are willing to help themselves and, next, because there must be security for funds advanced, and that means a judicious use of them. Help is given by donations and loans. The Loan Fund is created by gifts and bequests specially made for it, and no part of it can be given away, though it may be loaned without interest. It is now about one million, and the loans last year were one hundred and five thousand one hundred dollars. The Donation Fund is raised by annual collections in all the societies, to which all good Methodists give something. The donations, in 1885, were one hundred and thirty-one thousand three hundred and forty-six dollars. The result of this system is wonderful. When an assembly of men, Ingersoll (Eob) at their head, met at Roches- ter, New York, to exult over the decay of Christianity, Chaplain McCabe, then s( rretary of this society, was able to telegraph for their comfort, "We are building churches at the rate of two a day." Of twenty thousand M. E. church edifices now standing in this country, this society has aided in building five thousand and three hundred. The Church Extension Society of the Church South has had a rapid and prosperous growth. It was incorporated in 1882, and has, in four years, received one hundred and forty-five thousand two hundred and forty-two dollars. Its system of loans and do- nations is like that of the M. E. Society, and it has already aided four hundred and fifty-nine Churches within four years. A happy annex to the society has been devised, and it now goes into ope- ration, by which the women of the Church in an associated society assist after a like fashion in building parsonages. The Methodist Episcopal Sunday-school Union, for the aid of needy schools, the publication of Sunday-school literature and the general care of Sunday-schools, was formed in 1840. Its importance may be reckoned from the fact that its statistics show twenty-two thousand two hundred and forty-six schools, with a census of two million twenty-eight thousand seven hundred and seventy-eight people in them. Its funds by collection are about sixteen thousand dollars, and with these it helps nearly a thousand ^.'i<" Mi; riK )1HST HKNKVC )i.r.Nci:s. 691 churches in ) do this in a y difficult to ire willing to security for them. Help is created by t of it can be St. It is now hundred and ?und is raised lich all good 585, were one and forty-six 1. When an let at Roches- nity, Chaplain ) telegraph for ; rate of two a now standing five thousand South has had :d in 1882, and l-five thousand loans and do- already aided lars. A happy goes into ope- lociatcd society Ion, for the aid |l literature and in 1840. Its statistics show Ischools, with a hundred and ;tion are about irly a thousand schools a year. The conversions in the schools arc about seventy thousand a year. The Tract Society, like the preceding, is an organic part of the Church. Its income by collection is about fifteen thousand dollars a year. It circulates in this country in seven different languages and also in every country where we have a mission. In the Church South and in other Methodist Churches these two interests are not separated from the general pastoral and publication work. The Woman's Foreign Missionary Society and the Woman's Home Missionary Society an; not parts of the Church. They work in separate organizations. Bishop Janes, in 1869, proposed to the former an organic union, "a wedding," with the parent so- ciety. To this Mrs. Dr. Hibbard, the president of the Woman's Foreign Mission, wittily replied : "There are two hindrances ; the parties are too near of kin, one claiming to be the 'parent,' and there is too great disparity of age, one being fifty years the elder." The Bishop declared that one refusal should not break a courageous man, but the proposal has never been renewed. The society seemed to fill a real vacancy. It gave the women of the Church something special to do, redeeming the rich out of idleness, and setting before the poor an object near and clear for their mites and prayers. The Heathen Wojnaiis Friend, a monthly edited by Mrs. Dr. Warren (Boston University), has a circulation of over twenty thousand. An illustrated paper for the women of India is published at Lucknow\ The income of the society was, in 1885, one hundred and fifty-seven thousand four hundred and thirty-nine dollars. From this are supported two hundred and fifty-two workers of all grades and the work is sustained in seven different foreign countries. The Woman's Home Missionary Society was formed in 1880. Its immediate object was to re-inforce the Freedman's Aid Society by interesting the women of the Church directly in the southern work and by supporting women among the ex-slaves as teachers and readers. The freedman is simply an unformed man, and his family is in the same crude and chaotic condition. To shape his children to piety, neatness, thrift and intelligence is the first effort; to reach adults, those children of a larger growth, and win them to industry and temperance, is the second. The laborers for these > 1 1 ■:U' m':-'^':W UM.'^ i/lmirSlii'- ' . :lii 692 TIIK STORV OF MKTIK )|)IS.M. people have an immense experience of the kitUcrous, the j^athetic and the disa<;reeable, but they work for Christ's sake and liave no failure. The society's work is also among the Indians, and Mrs. Gaddis amon;^ her Pawnees, trying to bring them to decency, to M c i ill house-thrift, to reading, and from the worship of stuffed wild geese to Christ, is a good example of the workers. The income of the society for 1885 was over forty- four thousand dollars. MKTIIODISI ItKNLiVol.F.NTKS. Cm IS, the pathetic :c and have no lians, and Mrs. to decency, to mi r • • • ■ ,« stuffed wild The income id dollars. luhication in the Methodist Churches has already been partially told. It truly belon^^s under the head of its benevo- lences. To plant an institution is the noblest form of individual benevolence, when it is done as told in the motto of Harvard. '•/'ro Christo ct Jicclcsia," for Chris-:t and the Church. The Church is the one thing that abides in the restless whirl of mortal change, and institutions of learning anchored to it and under the sh.nlow of its Living Mead, perpetuate the name of the founder and become the joy of many generations. The great universities (if l-jigland and most of those, all the ancient ones, in ICurope were so founded. Almost none of the seats of learning l)ear a founder's name. Better and truer if none did ! No one person can do such exploit alone. Of educational institutions the Methodist Episcopal Church has now one hundred and forty-three. Of these, theological schools are ten, colleges and universities are forty-five, classical seminaries are sixty-one temale colleges and seminaries are eight, and foreign mission >chools are nineteen. Their entire property is fifteen millions. This last is imperfect, for, while one writes it, the University (jf Southern California gains a basis t)f two and one-half millions, and large additions in the year 1888 are making in other schools. Of the theological schools, the oldest is the Boston. In was first placed at Concord, New Hampshire, and opened as the Methodist (General Biblical Institute. When the Boston University was built the removal was made in 1867. Since 1871 it has been the Theological Department of Boston University, which is intended to comprise a complete system of affiliated colleges in all depart- ments of learning. There could not be a better location. Boston culture is proverbial, and the city, like Athens of old, is itself a school. Its pulpits and platforms set before the student examples of the highest sacred and secular eloquence. The libraries, the resources of art and music, the historic associations and the bracing breeze of the sounding sea, inspire the young mind and help to furnish the student in every good work. The needs of the city for such labor as aids in training the laborer are great. It is not quite a Christian city, but no Church is more faithful and thriving than the Methodist. The Garrett Biblical Institute at Evanston. Illinois, bears, unfortunately, the founder's name. Mns. ICliza Garrett, dying at ii ■^ MKTIIODIST BENEVOLENCES. 695 in o !z o >< (^ o H o w O s I-) o u a tn PS > w 1-3 O 2 Chicai^o in 1855, left the means by which it was established. Its organizer was John Dempster, already named in our Story, whose father had been one of our earliest preachers from iMi^laiul. It has done a great work in training ministers for the western regions. One of its buildings is Heck Hall, r>arbara's true monu- ment. About two thousand students have there received instruc- tion. The huge city of Chicago is but twelve miles awa)', and its crude and mostly foreign-born population give the students ample apprenticeship in evangelical labor. Evanston is a charming town by the bright blue Michigan, and so many decayed preachers have made it a residence that it is called the Pilgrim s Rest. The Drew Seminary, also named from a founder, is at Madison, N. J., _^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^_ , ^ _ ^^ forty-five miles ^^^ from New Z York. It has a ia noble place, not W so much of im- posing archi- tecture as of parks and grounds, so that a student might say: "This shall be my rest forever. Here will I dwell, for I have desired it." Its libraries and a})pliances are choice and am.plc. Planted in the heart of metropolitan Methodism and served from the beginning by abL- men, it has, since its founding in 1866, done a work worthy of its resources, and ali-ady a'x . t one in thirty-six of Methodist preachers are its graduates. Although so far from New York, many of its students find calls to labor in the city and its environs. Other theological schools are at Baltimore, Atlanta and in foreign missions. Of colleges the oldest is the Wesleyan University at Middle- town, since Allegheny and Dickinson, though earlier built, did not earlier come iiito the control of the Church. The University began its wo.l: in 1830, but was not a college until *hc GARRETT BH'.LICAL INSTITUTE. 696 THE STORY OF METHODISM. following year. It was happy in having for its first president Dr. Fi'-k, whose fame abroad was fully justified by the happiness of those who were immediately under his shadow. The Univer- sity is beautiful for situation. Its buildings look upon the mir- ror of the Connecticut and its wide range of wooded hills south and east, while in front and around is the quiet town in fullness of foliage and of homes. The University has every modern improvement and fixture, and of all Mecliodist colleges does most truly college work. Its namesake at Delaware, Ohio, was founded in 1842. Its mm i' ■M: endowmeni must grow with the prosperity of the school. Four hundred acres of rst president le happineso The Univer- pon the mir- d hills south n in fullness /ery modern oUcges does n 1842. Its at has ibrty Its build- ice is nearly Ddist colle'.(e nverts be.ng ■ncd in 1850. ohn i - -a??s, school '.". t;c vvnieni musi; ed acres of 698 THE STORY OF METHODISM. H M|j|Mfy'' vrvl^tl^^^- low-priced farms wore secured in one body, and on this land Evanston was bci^un. The scheme succeeded. The town took the schemer's name and grew to be the finest suburb of Chicago and a great educational center. To-day its work is large and prosperous and a thousand can at any time be found in attendance on its schools. It is no part of our Story to give account of other than a few of these leading schools. The Boston University should be »amed, seeing it bravely takes the classic name of its town and in its youth competes fearlessly with the oldest and richest schools CENTENARY BIBLICAL INSTITUTE, BALTIMORE, MARYLAND. in the land. It has its home in the heart of the ancient cit> where Methodism had so dreary and unhopeful an entrance. Bishop Gilbert Haven put it to some rich Methodists of Boston in this simple way : " Plant your potatoes where you can see them grow!" They accepted it and built under their own eyes a university of which all Boston is glad and all Methodists proud and thankful. From it, as from our Rocky Mountain reservoirs, flow streams all the year to refresh and fertilize a wasting world. Syracuse University, the successor of the Genesee College, Lima, New York, founded in 1849, ^^'c mus*- also note. on this land rhc town took rb of Chicago V is lary;c and i in attendance if other than a rsity should be its town and in richest schools Iryland. ic ancient cit\ II an entrance. lists of Boston »u can see them ;ir own eyes ;i lall Methodists icky Mountain and fertilize a mcsee College, lote. 700 THE STORY OF METHODISM. I t I V { I' '■ U ill At a convention held in the city of Syracuse, February 23, 24, 1870, in which all New York State Methodism was repre- sented, and of which Rev. Jesse T. Peck, D. D., was president, it was resolved to establish a University in Syracuse, under the auspices of the Methodist Episcopal Church. Previous to the convention, one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars had been pledged for this purpose, the city added one hundred thou- sand dollars, and a further subscription of one hundred and sixty thousand dollars was taken at the convention. The institution was thus launched, with financial resources amounting to three hundred and eighty- five thousand dollars. A commanding site of fifty acres was pur- chased, and work be- gun on the first great building — the Hall of Languages — in May, 1 87 1 . The University opened its first term the following September in a rented hall, with five professors and forty- one students. Alexander W i n - chell.LL. D.,wasChan- REV. CHARLES N. SIMS, D. D., LL. D. Ccllor from 1 872 tO 1874, Erastus O. Haven, LL. D., 1875 to 1880, C. N. Sims, LL. D., 1 88 1 till the present. The College of Medicine was opened in 187'', and the College of Fine Arts in 1873. From 1 88 1 to 1886 the property of the University increased half a million dollars, and the number of students rose to about 400. During the year 1886-87 the prosperity of the institution was unprecedented. In addition to many smaller gifts, it received fifty thousand dollars for the founding of the Joel Dorman Steele Professorship of Theistic Science ; the Holden Memorial Observ- atory completely furnished for use ; the John Crouse Memorial ■ -7 •-■: «'• ' -vv*-, ^,^^f\ ' <- ^'""^ iJnlBi^ &* - * ''\f,^j/i^^ ^^ti^i^^Stm^KS^ K^ ' ^" ^ -^Mtu-" *^ ^^^^^'^flBHIP^^I^H^^^I m^^ i ^^p ^iJi^^^^H ^^^, ' '*' ^^M ^^^^^^^^1 Bw^^-i£' m^Mml I ^J^mk m ^^^^^H BBHp^^ j ^^^^» i^ii^^S '^^'^'^^iwjjiaJj^^^^E lg^^ ^WA wJ^^Wm ^L r^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^H wlini ^^^^^H ^^Ih f Akm^^^|B^Bi^ '.^JM^^^^^^^^IP^^^^^I ^^l^^l 1 4 II J m METHODIST BENEVOLENCES. 701 Building, which will be called " A College for Women ; " and the Von Ranke Library, the gift of Dr. J. M. Reid and wife, for which a new fire-proof library building will be erected this year. Cazenovia Seminary was opened December 11, 1824, and is the oldest existing Methodist Seminary as to its date of opening. The first building was the Madison County Court House, built in 1 8 10, which in 181 7 was sold to the Methodist Church, and six years later was transferred to the Conference for a Semiucw^, Nathaniel Porter, of Connecticut was the first principal. J. N. Clements, its present principal has been con- nected with the institu- tion for fifteen years. During its sixty-four years about fifteen thou- sand young men and women have been in at- tendance. Among them were Bishops Bowman, Andrews and Newi/an, of the M. E. Church and United States Senators Joseph R. Hawley and Leland Stanford. More than three thousand of its attend- ants have been converted to God while there. No human arithmetic can r. o. summers, d. d. ll. d. estimate the intellectual and moral power of its large body of alumni. No Church is said to be now doing so much educational work as the Methodist Episcopal Church, and if this be true no other is doing so much for the future of this land. It is only doing its duty, and yet hardly that. The Church South is doing nobly, and other Churches need not blush for their efforts. Of the institutions of learning in the Church South, the leading one has already been named, the Vanderbilt University, at Nashville. It was founded in 1872, and was called the Central University ot jy mi t ' 1 ? lilP''*'- 702 THE STORY OF METHODISM. the Methodist Episcopal Church South. During the next year, it had from CorneUus Vanderbilt a gift of half a million of dol- lars, and to this he afterwards added a like sum. He directed that six hundred thousand dollars be permanently invested as an Endowment Fund and that Bishop McTyeire be president of trustees and direct the organization of the University. A campus of seventy-five acres was secured near the beautiful city, and here, in April, 1874, the corner-stone was laid. The institution was opened in 1875. L. C. Garland, LL. D., was chosen as its first chan- cellor and Dr. T. O. Summers was made vice-chancellor and dean of the Theological faculty. The University has four departments. Theology, Law, Medicine and Philosophy. The latter includes Science and Literature. These departments were at once supplied with faculties of such ability as was befitting the highest institu- tion of a great Church. There are several elective courses of study, and the collections of apparatus and cabinets are valuable. The institution has taken high rank and proved itself creditable to its founder and to its patrons. The Church South has colleges and seminaries in every state of its ancient domain. PREACHING IN FIJI. je next year, illion of dol- Hc directed ivested as an president of A campus ity, and here, stitution was its first chan- r and dean of departments, tter includes nee supplied jhest institu- - courses of are valuable. If creditable has colleges I i'fj* \^m )![■ m ^/-^ z^ w% W- * 1 1 i : ' 1 1 ' v;,i ' 1 ^Hlji if ' i. CHAPTER LV. Methodist Bishops. j^^p^^^^^^^O many eminent men have arisen in the Methodist Church that the outhne of their characters and careers would demand a cyclopedia. It is to be assumed, and it will usually be true, that the Bishops, as they occupy the highest office, are in the average the ablest men of their period. We there- fore propose to give sketches of the later lishops, the earlier ones having been presented in our more continuous narrative. The thirteenth Bishop of the M. E. Church was Leonidas Lent Hamline. He was born in Burlington, Conn., 1797, and died in Mt. Pleasant, Iowa, 1865. In early life his thoughts were inclined to the ministry, and he directed his studies to such a purpose. He, however, decided upon the law as his profession. His mind had a legal cast, and his sermons often took a forensic shape, so that, to many of his hearers, he was the better preacher for having once been a lawyer. He was a member of the bar in Lancaster, Ohio. When about thirty, the death of a daughter gave a deep stir and turn to his thoughts. He threw up the practice of law and soon by regular course became a preacher. His abilities, as might be presumed, brought him into immediate notice, and in two years he was sent to Wesley Chapel, the foremost station in Cincinnati. .<5-, M\ \m^ 1*^ I » i U I * 1 704 THE STORY OF METHODISM. In 1836, he became assistant editor of the Advocate in that city, and after four years editor of the Ladies' Repository. In 1844, he was elected Bishop. His leading qualification for the high office was his gift and habit of clear, legal judgment. He came into the episcopacy at the time of the separation of the Church, a time of passions and perplexities, and his calm, acute discernment was of great value. He was of full habit and stately bearing. In preaching he made little use of the imagination ; he aimed rather to carry the judgment by clear and impressive reasoning, yet, when he had made his point, he could enforce it with electric energy. He was constantly of devout and spiritual frame, so that when he said nothing he yet preached. He was the only Bishop that ever resigned the Episcopal office, and thus illus- trated the Methodistic idea that the Bishop's place is not an order to be lost only by sin- fulness, but an offiee, and allowing of being vacated. His health LEONIDAS LENT HAMLINE. D. D. ^^.^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^j^^ ^^ thus resigned in 1852 and took his place among the "superan- nuated of his Conference. He then lived thirteen years of pain and weakness, but such were his peace and comfort that he says : "I am far more contented and cheerful than in the best days of my youth." His sky seemed always growing brighter und his horizon wider. After his death, Mrs. Hamlinc removed to Evans- ton, 111., where her home was for years a center of religious society. Bishop Hamlinc gave to the Hamline University, between St. Paul and Minneapolis, Minn., twenty-five thousand dollars in real estate at Chicago, said to have greatly increased in METHODIST BISHOl'S. ;o5 vr.lue since the date of its giving. Dr. F. G. Hibbard, Clifton Springs, N. Y., has edited Bishop Hamline's life and his works, these being chiefly sermons. The fourteenth Bishop of the Church was Edmund Storer Janes. He was born, in 1807, at Sheffield, Mass. He was con- verted in 1820, but he spent ten years in teaching and in the study of law. He became a preacher in 1830. He was at once noted for his skill and influence with the young, his Sunday- schools being specially successful. Af: jr being called to some other office, as secretary of the American Bible Society, he was in 1844 chosen Bishop, the last ever chosen by the vote of an in- dividual Church. For thirty-one years, a term longer than any other has yet served, he did all the duties of a Bishop. He was not tall but of full and healthy appearance, and his slender, flute- like voice made upon the hearer a peculiar impression. His share of Episcopal experi- ences was quite various and complete. Among these was this ^^^^^^ ^^^^^'^ J^^'^^^- d- i>-. ^^- '^■ that, in 1859, holding a Conference m Texas, he was driven from the state by an .irmed mob. The next year, Anthony Bewley, one of his preachers, was hung by a similar mob. On the whole, the M. E. Church has never had a man more efl*ective than Bishop Janes. His clear judgment and ready wit never failed him, and, whether on the platform or before the Conference, in the pulpit or the social circle, he had the finish and brilliancy of a courtier, with the moral and spiritual character of an apostle. Mrs. Janes was of Huguenot descent and an Episcopalian by training, but sho early joined the Methodists, finding with them 45 ^ r» \i 1 i?' 1 1 ■r ?'*iV 706 'IHE STORY OF METHODISM. congenial religious society. This was some years before her marriage She proved worthy to rank with the noblest ladies named in this Story, with ihose who aided Wesley in the begin- ning, Mrs. Fletcher, Lady Maxwell, Lady Huntingdon. She died a month before her husband, and her last words were: "Out of the darkness into the light." The l^ishop had already been suffering from slow disease and the loss of Mrs. Janes aggravated his malady or diminished his vital, resisting force. In about a £. S, JANES. ELIJAH HEDDING. THOMAS A. MORRIS. L. L. HAMLINE. B. WAUGH. THE BOARD OF BISHOPS IN 1844. month after her death he was prostrate and in a few days he rejoined her among the blest. His last quiet remark was : "I am not disappointed." In the same )'ear his twin brother, who had served forty-three years in the ministry, also died; as a man, he was not unlike tlie Bishop and hardly his inferior. The fifteenth liishop was Levi Scott. He was born near Odessa, Del. His father, of Irish origin, died in the year after Levi's birth, solemnly commending his boy to God and dedica- ting the lad to sacred service. Young Levi grew up world'._^ and WtmmOi METHODIST BISHOPS. ::ars before her noblest ladies y in the begin- don. She died /ere: "Out of .1 already been anes aggravated ;e. In about a 707 L. HAMLINE. a few days he miark was : "I 'in brother, who died ; as a man, ior. was born near 1 the year after rod and dedica- up world'., and I wicked in spite of his parents' prayers, but he worked hard to aid his mother in the care of the family. His summers were given to farming and fishing; in winter he was at scliool. For music, and especially for the violin, he had a passion and a skill which opened temptation enough before him in his youth, but soothed and rested him in many a weary hour of later life. He was brought to Christ at twenty by the preaching of a Presbyterian clergyman who used to stop at his mother's house, but his clear- ness of experience dates from a camp-meeting held soon after. He entered Conference in 1826. VVe have else- wiiere seen how Dela- ware was a fertile field for Methodism and how its most cultivated j)cople became mem- bers of the societies. This was true when Scott began to preach and it filled him with misgivings. He began a course of severe study and his inborn abilities rapidly devel- oped. There were not then five college gradu- ates in the itinerancy, but there were many hard students, and of levi scott, d. d. these none was more diligent than this one, now entering upon ministerial labor of more than half a century. After service of fourteen years in the itinerancy, he became for three years principal of the grammar school of Dickinson College. In 1844, being member of General Conference, he opposed separation, and, tliough from a slave state, he took the northern view of matters then at issue. In 1848, he became book agent at New York, and in 1852 was made Bishop. In his first Episcopal year he went to Africa, and t(» the last, or until his strength gave way, he was in travel and labor as abundant as his colleagues. '. ' > Mr ; IB'' i^M'ii 1- l^¥^ .'i 708 THE STORY OF METHODISM. The impression that he made upon the Conferences was peculiar. Ho had no gush or overflow of fecUng. His air was that of weakness and weariness, but no man saw the import of a question more quickly, or presented it with greater clearness or vigor. It was surprising that with his look of exhaustion, in a crowded, perplexed and agitated assembly, he would flash a clear convincing light over the matter in debate, and with a few words bring ever}' thing to order. He was meek of temper but he would not abuse his own judgment, and he was inflexible in his decisions. Of all the Bishops, he was the man for a troublous session. He could ride on the whirlwind and direct the storm. "We Bishops do not claim infallibility," but he held himself alone answerable for his decisions. At the Baltimore Conference of 1861, the secretary being in the chair, resolutions were passed condemning the slavery action of the General Conference of i860. On taking the chair the Bishop said: "This whole action passed, is in my judgment, in violation of the Order and Discipline of the Meth- odist Episcopal Church, and is therefore null and void, and I as Bishop do not recognize it as Conference action." This was entered over his name on the Journal. Those who recall those stormy times will see that then to annul the action of such a body of men was the highest effort of courage and conviction. Thus Bishop Scott, having neither genius nor brilliancy, honored his office by the higher gifts of sound judgment, deep piety and clear ideas. He ceased from public labor in 1880 and two years later was gathered to his fathers. He had been fifty-six years in the ministry and thirty years a Bishop. Mrs. Scott was for fifty years an invalid. The last days of the Bishop were soothed by a daughter's care, and his son is a member of the Wilmington Conference. The sixteenth Bishop of the Church was Matthew Simpson. He was born, 181 i, at Cadiz, Ohio. His early advantages were fair and he was a diligent student. At first, having spent some time in teaching, he entered upon the practice of Medicine. He then felt his call to preach and entered the Pittsburg Conference. Some years later he became professor of Natural Science at Allegheny College, Pa., and in 1839 he was made president of Asbury (now De Pauw) University, Indiana. Here he served nine years, and after four years' editorship of the Western p^l«'. METHODIST UlSllUPS. 709 onfercnccs was g. His air was he import of a ter clearness or ;xhaustion, in a 11 Id flash a clear ith a few words cr but he would in his decisions. IS session. He "We Bishops one answerable : of 1 86 1, the ,ed condemning 60. On taking assed, is in my c of the Meth- void, and I as n." This was ho recall those of such a body iction. nor brilliancy, udgment, deep or in 1880 and d been fifty-six Mrs. Scott was e Bishop were nember of the thew Simpson, vantages were ig spent some Medicine. He rg Conference, al Science at president of ere he served the Western Christian Advocate, he was in 1852 chosen Bishop. He was a diligent Bishop and a successful author, but he will be most remembered as an orator. For years h'j was the crator of Meth- odism. Of Celtic lineage, he inherited the Irish gift and turn for eloquence, but, in his youth, speaking was what he least could do. When he became a preacher, his voice and e\cn his personal appearance was against him ; nor did he, like Demosthenes, resort to art and elocutionary device. By his own account, which he gave for the help of young preachers, his first step was utterly to forget himself, to banish all thoughts of oratory and simply to make the utmost effort to say things so that people could understand them at the first saying. In every discourse he had but one purpose in view, and to accom- plish this he bent all his energies. The intense, conscientious effort to impress truth in the most effective manner was at- tended with grov g power so to do, and thus he became a great public speaker. In his public efforts there was, as in matthfav simpson. d.d. ll. d. those of all great preachers, much that has no carnal or artistic explanation. He was often slow, sometimes dull ; sometimes a failure. Again, thousands would hang upon iiis words with eagerness, and they would "see what was coming," quite as soon as the speaker himself saw it, and their emotions would surge within them. When the coming crisis of thought and feeling was reached, vast congregations would be uncontrollable. They would rise, throw up their hands and shout wildly, the speaker, himself being as much overcome as they. Nothing like it has been seen in the modern Church since Summcrfield. During the ,, .. , i: i.ti ! hi '■ ;/<■; 1*1 !«■■ 710 THE STORY OF METHODISM. Rebellion he was very active in public service, as was also Mrs. Simpson, but he declined all civil place and honor. He led, in patriotic devotion, his own Church, which Lincoln, for its temper and power in the country's trials, was inclined to call The National Church, seeing that it sent more men to the field and more nurses to the hospital than any other. Bishop Simpson died at Philadelphia just after the General Conference of 1884. His tomb, one of remarkable beauty, is visited by throngs who come to remember his power in the Gospel. The seventeenth Bishop was Osmond C. Baker. He was a native of New Hamp- shire, born at Marlow, 18 1 2. After such struggling boyhood as was the usage of the Old Granite State, he went to VVilbraham at its early outset under Dr. Fisk. Under the shadow of that saint, he was converted and became an exhorter at seventeen. He went with Ur. Fisk to the VVesleyan Univer- sity at Middletown, BISHOP SIMPSON IN LATER YEARS. ^nd was uudcr him there for three years. By reason of failing health, he left the college without graduation. He soon became a teacher at New- bury, Vermont, where he served for ten years. The Biblical Institute at Concord (now Boston) was then opened, and he became a professor, having been an itinerant but one year in all his life. He was made Bishop in 1852. The infirmity of his health and the quiet habits of the recitation room, where his life had been spent, made him as Bishop very different from most of his colleagues. He was of fine personal appearance, beyond all the rest, and his manners were peculiarly refined and courteous. V: METHODIST msiiors. 711 j was also Mrs. or. He led, in incoln, for its nclincd to call : men to the other. Bishop :ral Conference uty, is visited in the Gospel. le seventeenth was Osmond er. He was a of New Hamp- orn at Marlow, After such ng boyhood as 2 usage of the ■anite State, he VVilbraham at y outset under k. Under the of that saint, converted and an exhorter enteen. He 1 Dr. Fisk to cyan Univer- Middletown, under him 1, he left the icher at Ncw- The Biblical ened, and he le year in all irmity of his where his life from most of :e, beyond all lid courteous. He wrote for his own guidance an h^xposition of the Discipline, an authority in all Church law, and his decisions were very care- fully made. He was not an impressive speaker, but his views were luminous and instructive. It was in the exhilarating air of Colorado, where he was guiding and aiding the church in its day of small things just after the war, that paralysis struck him with its "air-drawn dagger." He afterwards did some service, but a second stroke, in 1 87 1 , was fatal. He was nineteen years a Bishop. Edward Raymond Ames was the eighteenth Bishop, He was born at Amcsville, Ohio, but of staunch New England lineage. While a student at the Ohio University he united with the Church, and, in 1830, being then twenty-four, he got from Peter Cart- wright his license to preach. He early showed a sagacity, fearlessness and energy that made hiin the joy of the frontier, and, when Indiana became a Conference, he took the state for his range. In 1840, being member of the General Con- ference, he was made superintendent of Indian missions, as well as corresponding secretary of the Missionary Society. Within four years he traveled, between Texas and Lake Superior, more than twenty-four thousand miles. He seemed to enjoy the Indians thoroughly, and they enjoyed him as well. He would be for weeks among them, camping in the wild, equally fearless and free with friendly or hostile tribes. He perfectly understood their character, and, learning to speak Choctaw, he served that tribe, in 1842, as chaplain of their council. He framed the school law of their nation, providing for education more amply OSMOND CLEANDER BAKER, D. D. \ ( ^m t ; ii i 712 THE STORY OF METHODISM. than any law found in this country. His acquaintance with Indian character and his power to manage them were vahied in national affairs, and he was often consulted and ur<^ed to take ofifice. He became Bishop in 1852, and, being from the same state and Conference as Bishop Simpson, his election was the more complimentary, as it is the only instance of the taking of two Bishops from the same state or Conference at the same time. His power over men and his skill in affairs was such that, had he taken a political career, he would have gone to the highest place. His bearing had tender- ness, courage and authority; he could listen patiently and explain, but his word was final. One could see in a Conference how he gained the love, reverence and obedience of the Indians. In the days of the war, while Bishop Simpson was stirring the hearts of the peo- ple. Bishop Ames was closeted with Lincoln and Stanton in counsel EDWARD RAYMOND AMES, D. D., LL. D. ^^^ often in pravcr. His knowledge of the Southwest served them well. He was never disheartened. When men doubted whether Chicago would be rebuilt, lie relieved the case by saying: "The railroads could afford to build it," and men saw at a glance the truth of his word. He died in Baltimore, in April, 1879. "Know ye not that a prince and a great man is this day fallen in Israel?" Our next Bisht)p, the nineteenth in order, was Davis Wasgatt Clark. His birthplace was Mount Desert, off the coast of Maine, that island so bleak in winter and so fair in summer. Here he was born in 18 12, and, like most lads of the **^ Wh METiioDisT msiiors. 713 coast, he had before him life's ideal in the captainc}' of a vessel or in wealth boldly drawn from the abundance of the stormy seas. His views of duty chanj^ed with his conversion, and he thoui;ht of becoming a fisher of men. At nineteen, he went to a manual labor school, and thence he began " to climb the hill of science barefoot." His health and vigor seemed as inexhaustible as his native Atlantic. He prepared for college by twelve lu)urs of daily study, besides three of hard labor with his hands. In 1833, he went to the Wesleyan University, and finished in two years the proper study of four, a feat impossible now. It should have been impossible then, but that was in times of looser requirements. He was overdrawing life's resources and, though his drafts were honored, he found himself without de- posits when they would have best served him — twenty years later. In 1846 he entered the pastorate, and did ser- vice mostly in New York city. His fiery abolitionism and the blazing of his bright blonde hair made him a shining mark in those restless times. He was, in 185 i, made Doctor of Divinity by the University from which he graduated, being the first of her sons so honorjd b\' her hand. He became, in 1852, editor of the Liniics Rcpodtory at Cincinnati. That periodical has long since vanished from the earth " for the weakness and unprofitableness thereof," but it is remembered at least by its strange bishop-making power. Bishops Hamline, Clark and Wiley sprang from it into tlv,' Episcopacy. He (Clark) became Bishop in 1862. We shall see that, of the three then elected, he alone served seven years. D/:.VIS WASGA'rr Ci^ARK, D. D. '^:- Vi '. I n p Pi ;i4 'I HE STORY OK METHODISM. the others only five each. He was, when chosen, already a worn- out man. Me set at the duties of his new office with his habitual energy, his most noted labors beinj^ in the Southwest and South after the war. The University at iVtlanta bears his name. So intense was his interest in the southern work that he seemed to bequeath it to his family, and Mrs. Clark and his daughter, Mrs. Dr. Davis, of Cincinnati, became prominent in its promotion. His final breakdown was at Peekskill, 1871, but he was taken home and died among his kindred at Cincinnati. "He should have died hereafter," but, measured by its intensity, his life was fairly long. " Since Jesus hath lain there, I dread not its gloom," was his last word of the grave. Like many other Bishops he left a fair estate, not that the office of Bishop is "a good thing," but that keen sight and econ- omy, with toil and energy, may lawfully secure some share of the life that now is, as well as of that which is to come. EDWARD THOMSON. D. D.. LL. D. p^ j^^^j ThomSOn was the Bishop next in order of election, the twentieth to come into the sacred office. His birthplace was Portsea, England. From his family, one hundred years before, had come James Thomson, the Poet of the Seasons, and, in 18 10, was born a kinsman quite equal to the well-known, second grade author. When he was eight, his family came to Ohio. Plato used to call young Aristotle the nous, the intellect of his school. It was true of young Thomson that, wherever he might be, he was the brain of the place. At nineteen, he had a medical diploma from the University of Pennsylvania, and began the practice of his METIIUDIST UISllUl'S. 7»5 cady a worn- his habitual :st and South s name. So he seemed to vughter, Mrs. s promotion. le was taken "He should d hereafter," Lsurcd by its his life was ng. Since th lain there, lot its gloom," last word of ;. Like many hops he left a c, not that the I Bishop is "a ng," but that ht and econ- th toil and may lawfully )me share of hat now is, as f that which e. ard Thomson twentieth to ;sea, England, come James I, was born a rade author, used to call It was true Lvas the brain loma from the Ictice of his profession. At his conversion, a year later, he entered the M. K. Church, though from a Baptist family, lie filled several promi- nent places, and had charge of Norwalk Seminar)- for two years ; was also editor of the aforesaid LaiUcs Repository. In i.S4r), he became president of the Ohio VVesleyan University, where he served fourteen years. No president of a college in our Church has evor so deeply impressed a school and community as he has done. So perfect was his acquaintance with the studies of every department that he could enter any recitation and flood the exercise with instant light and energy. He adopted the Sunday afternoon lectures, and, as it was at an hour outside of the usual Churcb services, the University chapel was always crowded. No mastery of the English language more nearly perfect than his can be found in our century, and his prayer "flowed from lips wet with Castalian dew." The young Methodism of the West learned of him (and felt the lesson) that noise and fury are no part of eloquence, and that the Wesleyan rule of elocution '. good in every land. The students of Williams College were fond of calling their president, Mark Hopkins, "Mark, the perfect man." The students of Ohio Wesleyan University said as much without play of words concerning President Thomson, and his name is dear and sacred with many thousands. In i860, he was chosen editor of the N. Y. Christian Advo- cate. The period was a trying one, the passions roused by the war were increased by various opinions within the Church, and competition among Church journals was vexing, but he quietly did his best. At the next general Conference he was made Bishop. He had a record as a preacher. At his first open-air sermon sixty-five had sought religion and forty-six united w'ith the Church. Wherever he went men heard him gladly. As Punshon said, he was the Chrysostom, the golden-mouthed, of preachers. He visited India and gave, in two volumes, an account of the land ; he also published " Essays and Evidences of Christianity." P'our years in the Episcopacy did not allow h'nn to make much impi>_osion as Bishop, but he gained in his office the confidence of his brethren. He died of pneumonia at Wheeling, West Virginia, in 1870. The twenty-first Bishop was Calvin Kingsley, born, in y\6 TllK SroRV UK MLTIIOIJISM. .fit i •' l8i2, at Annsvillc, Now \'t)rk. " In sooth, my friends, a sturdy lad was ho ! " -;\t fourteen, he drove an ox team for six weeks westward, and then the family were not far from Chautauqua, settlin^^ in the forest primeval, under murmuring pine trees and hemlocks. There he heard a Methodist preacher, and, becoming converted, his prayers at home were blessed to the conversion of his parents. Feeling the ministerial call, he determined to have an education first. He made the forest help him, yielding him skins and venison and maple sugar, and " how bowed the woods beneath his sturdy stroke!" He made his way to Allegheny College, and cut his way through with his axe. Such a man was most wanted where he was best known, and he was kept at the college from 1 841 to 1856. His life was prodig- iously active. His bodily strength was great, and whatever he touched must move. In debate against the heresies and delusions of the period, he re- joiced as a might}' man and his fame traveled far. lu 1856, he was made editor of the Western Christian Advocate. At the General Conference of i860, he was chairman of the committee on si very and was regarded as the leader of the anti-slavi ' •- itiment. His able conduct of the subject drew upon him al admira^^'on and he was, in 1864, chosen Bishop. In his w offif'c, he moved with his habitual energy. At a session of his old conference (Erie), at Warren, Ohio, in 1866, a fire broke out at midnight on the premises of his host, and the Bishop was instantly foremost of all the active and muscular men, and by word and deed was master CALVIN KINGSLEV, D. D. Pi.i MKTIIODIST BISIIUI'^. 717 icnds, a sturdy for six wcoks 1 Chautauqua, pine trees and and, becoming : conversion of mined to have ,1, yielding him wed the woods his sturdy : made his way gheny College, u t h i s w a y 1 with his axe. man was most where he was nown, and he 3t at the college 841 to 1856. e was prodig- active. His strength was nd whatever he must move, ate against the 5 and delusions period, he re- as a mighty made editor of il Conference of -cry and was lent. His able lira* 'on and he he moved with iference (Erie), nidnight on the foremost of ail eed was master Qf the situation, saving the house that gave him a home. In 1869, after an Episcopal tour around the uorltl aiul great exertions in the heats of India and Ceylon, he was on his home- ward way by the Holy Land. At Beyroot, with Dr. iiaiinister, of Evanston, ho rose up early to get a view of that goodly mountain, Lebanon, then still white with its wintry snows. Coming down from the housetop, he fell and died. It was found that organic disorder of the heart, the result of some hard strain in other years, had resulted in this sudden taking-off. His tomb is in Ikyroot, and over it has been reared, by the order of tin; (i.ncral Conference, a monument to mark our Methodist interests in western India. "The ruddy Ijeam of morning tinges Only his sad funereal stone, And evening throws its crimson fringes But on his slumber cold and lone." But to him the Master had but to say, "Well done!" He went up from a region of old, well represented in the heavens. Thomas Bowman follows Kingsley as twenty-second Bishop, He was of that ancient Methodist stock which we have in another place noted as appearing when Methodist preachers first entered central Pennsylvania. He is the grandson of the Bowman there named, born at Berwick in 1817. In 1832, he was a student at Cazenovia, N. Y., a bright, clean boy, not only loved by every- body, but impressing all with the idea that he was to act no ordinary part in the affairs of his generation. He was set up, a beardless orator to make a Fourth of July address, and, forty years after, old citizens stoutly affirmed that it had not yet been equalled ! He was then associated with his brother, who has since achieved a legal and a military career. While at school the future Bishop was converted, and four years later, graduating at the head of his class at Dickinson College, and still not fixed in his calling, he gave a year to the study of the law. In 1838 he began to preach, and, after ten years, he organized the Seminary at Williamsport, Pa. Having conducted this for ten years, he became president of the Asbury (De Pauw) University. For two years he was chaplain of the U. S. Senate, retaining his presi- dency of the University. In 1872, he was chosen Bishop, and, though now but fourteen years in service, he is the senior Pishop. 7i8 THE STORY OF METilODISM. "The fathers, wlicrc arc they? And the prophets, do they live forever?" He is the most sunshiny of men, and, so simple and attractive is his manner, that, of all the Bishops, he is the favorite of the Sunday-schools and is often called " The Children's Bishop." He has entertained and instructed them all around the world. At his turn of encircling the earth., as he came up the Red Sea, he found himself suddenly unable to mention his wife in pri- vate prayer. " She is dead !" was his instant conviction, and there he left it. At his conference in Italy, soon after, a letter, his first for a long *ime from home, was handed him in time of ses- sion. "That is it!" he thought, and sure enough the letter told him of her death, at St. Louis, in the very hour of his strange thought upon the Red Sea! From that blow he has never rallied — i. c, his friends mark his loss ot buoyancy and cheer, for she had been to him as Mrs. Gladstone, as any true and gifted wife, is to her hus- band. Still he does, even in a cool and broken spirit, his work to the blessing and welfare of the Church. The twenty-third Bishop of the M. E. Church is William L. Harris. His birth was in 1817, at Mansfield, Ohio. In early life his attention was not given to getting an education, but in the free air of a farm he secured a vigor of body that has served him well. At seventeen, he was converted, and began to seek intel- lectual training and fitness for the calling that came home to his conscience. He entered Xorwalk Seminary, and was there able BISHOP THOMAS BOWMAN, D. D., LL. D. »;,(■■ t METHODIST Bisiiors. 719 to secure a good elementary education and a fair beginning in higher studies. After beginning, in 1836, to preach, be prose- cuted his studies ^vith an industry worthy of a disciple of Wesley. On his circuits, he studied by the blaze of pine knots in cabins of settlers, and in the saddle as he rode to his appointments on his far-strc::ching circuit. He became, for two years, a tutt)r in the Ohio Wesleyan University, thus gaining a larger opportunity to perfect himsjlf in his higher studies. In 1848, he took charge of the Baldwin Institute (now University), at Borea, (^hio. This institution took its name from the gen- erous, eccentric man, who had found a for- tune in the grindstone quarries of Berea, and who, among other mu- nificent acts, founded the institution for col- ored students, which now bears his name, at La Teche, La. His service here was for three years, and then he resumed teaching at the Ohio Wesleyan University. Mean- while, he had been in General Conference, and, in 1 856, was made william l. harkis, d. d.. ll. d. its secretary. So fully was he endowed with secretarial gifts of quickness, accuracy and order, that he was re-elected, without op- position, at every session until 1872, a term of service quite with- out precedent. In i860, he was chosen assistant corresponding niissionar)^ secretary, to aid the now venerable Dr. Durbin, and to this office he was reelected until 1872. He was then chosen Bishop, and entered upon the highest position in the gift of the Ciiurch. His long experience as missionary secretary and as secre- tar)- of the General Conference gave him instant fitness for a line of work to which none of his colleagues was so well prepared. ' !■ Wf ^;:^ 1 i: 1 1 iWME ir •20 THE STORY OF METHODISM. Ho is often called "The Missionary Bishop." The qualities that made him a ^ood secretary make him also an excellent presiding officer. He was never snarled, and business under his hand was clearly and rapidly dispatched. He died of heart disease, September 2, 1887, aged nearly seventy years, at his home in New York City. Randolph S. Foster is the twenty -fourth Bishop of the Church. He was born, in 1820, at Williamsburgh, Ohio. His early studies were prosecuted at Augusta College, Kentucky, but his mind developed rapidly, and at seven- teen he was already in the ministry. It was his happiness to begin the Christian life so early as scarcely to feel the change, though this was real and abid- ing. At eleven he was quite furnished in the experiences of grace, and, though his ser- vice in the ministry began at an age so unusual, he was no novice in the princi- ciples of religion or of the art of discourse His youthful turn was to literature and metaphx sics, and his spr*cialty has for his whole life been in this direction. In depth of theological study, he has been the most eminent of our Bishops, and he may be called among them as St. John was called among the apostles, the divine, the theologian. Such a man went, as a matter of course, to the front rank of service. After being in prominent places in Ohio, he went to Cincinnati, where, in 1849, he put out his first book, " Objections to Calvinism," in reply 'o some attacks upon the doctrines of Methodism. Being then called to New York, he published "Christian Purity." Such intellectual power as he was RANDOLPH S. FOSTER, D. D., LL. D. ^MP^I^ METHODIST Bisiiors. "2 1 2 qualities that llcnt presiding his hand was 7, aged nearly Bishop of the fh, Ohio. His Kentucky, but nd developed and at seven- was already in listry. It was piness to bei^in ristian life so scarcely to feel mge, though i real and abid- t eleven he was jrnish^d in the nces of grace, ough his ser- the ministry at an age so he w as no in the princi- ' religion or of of discourse, thful turn was s for his whole study, he has may be called apostles, the itter of course, inent places in t out his first e attacks upon New York, ho 3wer as he was now manifesting was in demand in many directions, and he be- came president of the Northwestern University at Evanston. At that Athens of Methodism he spent several years, and then re- sumed the pastorate in New York, filling the foremost stations and makmg himself felt in all. In 1858, he became professor of Systematic Theology, at the Drew Seminary. On the death of Dr. McCIintock, in 1870, Dr. Foster was made president of the seminary. In 1872, he was chosen Bishop, and entered upon the ever-shifting duties of his high office. He is not, to the popular ear, the most attractive of preachers, but there is always a strong and noble sweep of thought that makes the hearer feel the presence of a master. The Word is always opened and en- larged in his presenta- tion. Bishop Foster has taken his turn at the world-girding jour- nejs, and his letters have had a wonderful interest. He has been the man usually chosen where, as at Chautau- qua, there has been wanted a clear unfold- ing of difficult and pro- found subjects. His home is at Boston, and the progress of the Church there planted by Jesse Lee has been well promoted by his successor. The twenty-fifth Bishop was Isaac William Wiley. He was born at Lewiston, Pa., in 1825. He professed religion at ten, yet, like the twenty-fourth Bishop, such had been his habit of prayer that he hardly felt the chang(.'. He was soon in prepara- tion for college, but at eighteen, being then a local preacher, he left school to labor in a revival then extending through that part of Pennsylvania. At the close of the revival, his voice seemed 46 ISAAC W. WILEY, D. L). 'i|J \-\ ■■ 722 THE STORY OF METHODISM. i;;:'- ' r<,( ruined, and he, for that reason, took a medical course at New York. In 1846, he married and entered practice in western Pennsylvania. He was still troubled about preaching; yet there was in the Conference no room for married men. He resolved to ^o to a new place, and be a physician and no Jiing else ; but, stranL;ely enouLjh, his repute as a preacher arrived at the new place. Port Carbon, as soon as himself. Mis medical success was most gratifying; his preaching was in growing demand, and at last both were reconciled in his appointment as medical mission- ary to China. After giving a }'ear to special medical study, he sailed, in the spring of 185 1, to Foochow. His initiation was severe. The health of Mrs. Wiley and himself was wretched, and the Taiping rebellion was in full rage, wastirg the country with fire and swortl and threatening I^'oochow, where no missionaries but the Wileys remained. P^or a week they were kept in the upper stor)' of their house, a cyclone having flooded the city. The year ( 1853) was dreadful with ever\- evil known to mankind, and, in November, Mrs. Wiley died amid its horrors. He came home with his two motherless children. He then entered the pastorate, and afterwards he managed the Pennington Seminar}-. In 1864, he became editor of the Ladies' Repository, and continued in that post until 1872, when he was chosen Bishop. The leading feature in this character was fortitude. Few men have had so many sorrows as he in his own house. In China, the horrors around him were unspeakable, and, after his return, he, in our own war, went to the aid of the suffering, and was for years in work for the frecdmen. He was always the center of miser)', and if an)' man, like the Italian i)oet, ever "saw hell," Hishop Wi'ey was the man. Yet he was always quiet, selt- centered and unshaken. When the Chinese storms were ratrinsj, he gently won his first convert, a little boy, by telling the lad Jiible stories and softly leading him to the truth, as it is in Jesus. No man glooni)' with fear and sorrow could have done that. After twelve years of the usual restless round of episcopal dut\', he made his last visit to China and there died, as was told in our " Methodism in China." Ste[)hen M. Merrill was, in 1 872, made the twenty-sixth in the order of Methodist Fpiscopal Bishops. He had not behinti him so varied and eminent a history' as some other Bishops coulii ! ■ ''V METIK/DIS'I' BlSIIUl'S. 7^3 d not behinil show. His brethren chose liini for what he was at the time proving himself to be and for what they were confident he would he able to do hereafter. He was born, in 1S25, at Mt. Pleasant, (.)hio. His early education was not collegiate. In i S4J he came into the Church, and hi 1846 he began his career as a i)reacher. He had a great native energy of mintl and his e.u-l\- lack of op- l)ortunity was now remedied b\' intense application tt) a wide range of study. His clear and comprehensive attainments have been recognized by institutions of learning, and he has to com- plain of no lack of university honors. He first became a member of General Conference in 1868, and he went immediately to the front of the body as a clear, fearless and skill- ful debater. In that \ear he was chosen editor of the IVcstcni L liristian A dvocatc. The office of editor has preceded that of Bishop in so many instances that it seems to show some direct relation with it. Only si.\ Bishops have been taken from the pastor- ate, while at least nine have come from editorship. The pastorate, unless its incumbent be otherwise conspicuous, rarely makes him so. The editor or general officer becomes widely known. He gives to the public only his best attitudes and his most careful thoughts, and thus makes his best impression. He is also well 'situated for gaining broad views of the Church's interest and an appreciation of the ideas prevailing in it and of the men serving it. Bishop Merrill's course as ecl'tor was final proof of his character and ability, and when, in 187.?, men were wanted for Bishops, whose eye was not dim or their natural force abated, STEPHEN .M. MERRILL, D. U. 1 li 1 ■ i 1' * 1 r j 1 ■1 . ;i if 1 MJ M i ' \ i ^ t: 1 i 1 1 * '■ ." • f' i'f #V: ■|' 724 THE STORY OF METHODISM. before whom lay probable years of effective service, he was chosen one of them. For now fourteen years he has fulfilled the expectution of the Church. While he has taken his share of the duty "to travel at large throughout the work," his residence has usually been at Chicago. The Church interests centering there are very great. The city is a wicked one, but not more so than any great city where evils, foreign and domestic, are in the majority. In every direction, Christianity is at work, and Methodism does its share. There are about forty M. l-". ''-«f^ Churches, with many missions. These, with E v a n s t o n and its schools, and the vast, rich country surround- ing, make the active Bishop care and labor at home. The Bishop next in order of election, the twenty-seventh, is Edward Gayer An- drews. He came ot a good lineage. The family of his mother, who is (1886) in tlir calm rest of an hon- ored old age, was of the I'^-icnds, and still remembered in central New York for their integrity and ability. His uncle has been Chief-justice of Michigan, and his brother has long been a Judi;! of the Court of Appeals in New York. His father, a cotton manufacturer of Utica and Troy, was one of the noblest laynnn, devout and generous, taking the lowliest duties and the heaviest burdens. The future Bishop was one of five sons, whose sisters were as many, was born near Utica in 1825. He was member of the Church at ten. He prepared for college at Cazenovia. I'ull of animal spirits and bodily vigor, he found a congenial friend in General Hawley, now U. S. Senator from Connecticut, and he EDWARD G. ANDREWS, D. D., LL. D. fl-^ » iMETIIODlST IJISIIOPS, 725 :rvice, he was as fulfilled the is share of the residence has ;entcring there ; more so than c, are in the at work, and t forty M. 1:. ics, with many IS. These, with s t o n and its s, and the vast, luntrysurround- lake the active ) care and labor ne. he Bishop next icr of election, ,'enty-seventh, is •d Gayer An- He came ol d lineage. The of his mother. 5 (1886) in the est of an hon- old age, was of riends, and still iibercd in central uncle has been ig been a Judg*. father, a cott<«n noblest laymen, md the heaviest ns, whose sisters was member "f iazenovia. I'tiH genial friend in nccticut, and Ik- left with all the impression of a joyous, active, blameless boy, the life of his circle. In 1847 he graduated at the Wesleyan University. There he had been under Dr. Ulin, and in the society of Gilbert Haven and a score like him, whose young eftorts and ardors Vvcre fitting themselves and each other ft)r i)lace and power among men. Andrews was already a preacher, and, after graduation, he began at the bottom of the service, under a Piesiding I'Llder, in Central Xew York, In 1854 he became a teacher at Cazenovia and, in 1856, principal. He was member of General Conference in 1864, and at that time was transferred to the New York ICast Conference. His character nov/ rapidly unfolded, and all the efforts of his previous life seemed but as studies preparatory to the brilliant career that now opened before him in the pastorate. His services were called for in the most important charges, and each year found him stronger in himself and in the sentiment of his people. In a Conference crowded with talent he was again sent to General Conference, and was for over thirty years the only man chosen from the pastorate into the ICpiscopacy. The true honor of the pastoral office seemed to be restored in him, and his following career has amply justified the expectation with which he was elected. Like his brethren in the Board of Bishops, he has traveled the round world, seeing the cities of many men and learning their minds. His residence has for some years been at Washington. The rapid growth of the national capital, and the southward spread of the M. K. Church, made such residence desirable. Abundant as he is in labors, his hereditary vigor is equal to their doing, and his cheer of heart is unfailing. Gilbert Haven was, in 1873, elected as the twenty-eighth of the Bishops. He was the most intense man of his generation. What has been said of the family of Bishop Andriews might now be said again. Bishop (the simple "Gilbert," and even the shorter "Gil," not from lack of reverence, but from fullness of fellowship, has been his title among his contemporaries) Haven's father was a strong business man of Boston, and his mother a woman of great energy within her house and Church. After some business expe- rience, he entered Wilbraham, and graduated, in 1846, at the Wesleyan University. No man in his college was so active in general affairs or of so wide miscellaneous reading, yet he took !t • ! r I « ( f ■! i: .. f ' 726 THE STORY OF METHODISM. the third honor in a hirLjc and able class. Such was his intensity of mind that he was obliged to do nothing but once. It stayed and he could recall it at will to his service. After teaching five years and serving as pastor for ten, during which his pen was in- cessantly active, he was the first chaplain commissioned for the war, entering with the iMghth Massachusetts, under General But- ler, lie was .sv; [)roud of his regiment! He insisted, too, that one of its privates made the great war-song, "John l^rown's Body." He visited luirope, and gave his travels in "The Pil- grim's Wallet." In 1866, he became editor of Zion's Herald, and that goodly sheet shot to the front in the handling of the stirring questions of the hour. His place was always at the front, as his reg- iment, in 1861, opened the way to Washing- ton. The future was excrything with him, and he claimed to rep- resent and speak for The Church 01 the P'uture. In the same passionate intensity he mourned the death of his wife, lying whole nights at her grave in tears and groans. " I will lay my head in her lap for a thousand years in heaven and rest it," said he, in a time of longing anil exhaustion. Hecoming Bishop, he took the black man for his charge, and gave him all his heart and time. He took the perils of a season in Liberia, from which he never fully recovered. He made his home at Atlanta, and, on flying wing, he penetratetl every place where Christian work was able to enter. He had a passion for land, and the noble jjroperty of Clark Uni- versity is of his securing. The whites of the South counted him hostile and dangerous but they have come to see that he was their GILHERr HAVEN, D.D. IS his intensity CO. It stayed • teaciiin<^ five lis pen was in- lioned for the (leneral But- isted, too, that John lirown's in "The Pil- Vallet." In became echtor y Herald, and >dly sheet shot f r o n t in t h e \ of the stirring s of the hour. :e was ahvays ont, as his reg- i 1 86 1, opened to \Vashin<.,r- le future was tlj with him, limed to rcp- d speak for urch (Ji the In the same intensity lie the death of l)'in<^' whole my head in said he, in a he took the nd time. Me 1 never fully ing wint^, he ible to enter. Clark Uni- :ounted him he was their Ml'TIIUDI^T lUSIIul'S. -z-J intense, far-sighted friend. In the end of 1879, a medical man at Cincinnati pronounced him suddenly worn-out, and he hastened to his family home, Maiden, Mass., to die. Crowds of friends came, and his last days were a continuous levee, lie died in ulorious peace, January 3, 1880. His son is a Boston preacher. His son-in-law is Dean of Gammon School of Theology at Atlanta. Jesse Truesdell Peck, the twenty-ninth Bishop of the .M. 1-:. Church, was of a family ancient for this country, both his grand- fathers being soldiers of the Revolution, a pedigree about as good as the hundred earls of the Lady Vere dc Vere. He was one of six gigantic brothers, of whom the eldest was a local preacher and the others itinerant. There were five daugh- ters in the well-filled house, and the line is now multitudinous. Jesse was trained a blacksmith, and, on the fine old military days of central New York, his ear-piercing fife sent far its soul- animating strains. At about nineteen, he left his sounding anvil and ^^^^^ truesdell peck, d. d.. ll. came to school at Cazenovia. His excess of vigor sufficed him in paying his way as a janitor. His first sermon was at a school- house not far away, and, when his comrades " said nothing about it," his heart broke out in tears lest he might never be a i)reacher. His youthful bashfulness would hardl>' be believed by those who knew his fearless confidence in himself and his calling in later years. He did not graduate, but so close was his habit of stud\' that he was early called to the educational work, and was for some years president of Dickinson College. In 1844, he was prominent among those taking part in the 728 THE STORY OK METHODISM. I r. 1 », (■ 5 i! \l debates that led to the separation of the Church. His years of greatest service were probably those spent in Cahfornia. Cioing to San l''rancisco, in 1S59, lie was there in the da)s of the war. All |)ublic questions he discussed in his pulpit, at the street corners and in popular assemblies, and his influence on popular opinion became very ^reat. The luLjhest political offices were tendered him. He was president of the State Bible Society, and labored to build and perfect the University of the Pacific. In 1866, he returned and devoted himself in like manner to the in- terests of S y r a c u s e University. He was chosen liishop in 1872. In view of his beint,^ the one most reccntl\- elected. Bishop Ames, who dearly loved a pleasant word, intro- duced him at a recep- tion as "the babe among the Bishops, with whose artless prattle you will now be entertained." Seeing that l^ishoj) Peck was the oldest man ever chosen to the office, and was in s t a t u r c almost double any of his colleagues, the pleasantr)' was overwhelming. A true and faithful servant of the Church was Bishop Peck. He spent weeks in the territory of the Conferences that he was to hold, and thus gained personal knowl- edge of men and places. Years of debility came on, against which he struggled hard, but, after eleven years of P.piscopal service, he died at Syracuse in 1883. The thirtieth in this goodly list is Henry White Warren. He is from the Massachusetts line, and well represents the ancient character. His birth was at Williamsburgh, in 1831. Muscular force and mental energ)- were his born endowments. His earl)- HENRY WHITE WARREN, D. D., LL. D. H CM %fr. METllUDLST BISIIOI'S. 729 His years of )rnia. Going s of the war. at the street e on popular 1 offices were ; Society, and _' Pacific. In ner to the in- if Syracuse ;y. He was ishop in 1872. of his being most recent!)- Bishop Ames, irly loved a word, intro- im at a rccep- "the babe I the Bishops. lose artless ou will now be cd." Seeing mp Peck was ;st man ever to the office, in s t at u re ouble any »>f cagues, the crvant of the crritory of the rsonal knowl- against which pal service, he ; Warren. He ts the ancient I. Muscular His earl\- days were day.«; of hard labor, and what he gained was fairl\- won by indomitable struggling. His record at Wilbraham was tiiat of thousands at the same place, whose parents, " poor, but respect- able," could give their children little but their example and their blessing. There is a brother, tw(> )ears younger, n()w(i.SSS) president of Boston Universit)', whose cast differs much from that of the Bishop, but whose intense zeal for learning, and whose early and conspicuous success in attaining it, must have served the elder one as an inspiration. After graduation at the \Vesle\an University, in 1853, this elder brother entered upon teaching, but in two years began the pastoral work, never to leave it. He was marked as a star, rising tc^ be of the first magnitude. l'\)r this, nature had endowed him with .1 full wealth of physical and intel- lectual gifts. He is above the ordinary stature, strong and gracc- fd, and developed by abundant manly exercise. His voice is firm, silvery and flexible. The art of ami)lifying a topic without diminishing its force he early mastered, and his preaching touched the entire range of his congregation. His personal bearing gave instant " assurance of a man." He was soon sought to occup\- the foremost pulpits, and was, in matter of appointment, above an\- perplexity except that of deciding upon his own choice. i\s early as 1864, when eloquent tongues were rife, he, being member of the LowxM' House, was chosen by the Senate of his native State to preach its annual sermon. He was twice pastor at i\rch Street, Philadelphia, and was, when matle Bishoj), pastor at Sj)ring (iarden in that city. There are no appointments of higher grade. Astronomy is his favorite intellectual recreation. His lectures have been very popular, and his " Recreations," a Chautaucjua text-book, found in 1886 a demand of twenty thousand C()|)ies. \n phjsical exploit, mountain climbing is his specialt)', and for this his strength, steadiness and endurance fit him well. He has mastered the Matterhorn and Monte Rosa, and is quite at home in the Alps. In 1880 he was chosen Bishop directly from the ])astorate. His first official residence was Atlanta. Since 1884 he has chosen his home, where he is rarely found, but felt whether found or not, under the bright sky of Denver, Colorado. The Bishop next in succession, not traceable from the apos- tles by ecclesiastical lineage, but a follower of Wesley and thirty- first in supcrintendency from him, is Cyrus David P'oss. His ! li ill ^^ ■ft ! ( 1J^ if; i! 1'' ;. /••) o I ill; srtjkv ok .mkhiodis.m, father was a preacher in iht; \e\v N'ork Conference, and dvin^^ left four sons, one dj'in^ sliortly after his father at ei-^hteen \-ears, to the care and "guidance of their nol)Ie mother. She could feel tlie pride of that (ireek nicjther whose sons, after winnin,^; each the hi,L;hest of the athletic prizes at the ^aines, drew her in a chariot to make an olTerini;' at Juno's temple. ICach of her three sons was, at the \V'esle\-an Universit)', the valedictorian of his class, thus heariuL^ home to her its hit^hest honors. ( )f the three, Cyrus alone was to ha\'e a lont^ career, so as to fullill the expecta- tion so justl\' raised. He was born in i S34, at Kin^^ston, N. Y .. and j^raduatetl in 1S54. l"\)r three \ears he tauijjht in the Amenia Seminary. In 1857 he be<,^an the pastoral work at Chester. His noble personal ap- pearance was for him al\va\s a favorable in- troduction ; he was such as would be "cheered before he had said a word." His utterance was full and clear, and his discour- ses, often impassioned, CVKUS I.. FOSS. D.D.,LL.D. ^^.^^^ ^^,.„,^^, j,^ ,.^.,.^^„„ and rich in feelini^, appreciable by the weak and wear}'. He filled in succession the most prominent places in New \'ork, and was honoretl with his full share of attention from the public. His hiijhest of compliments was a call, in iS75,to the presidenc)' of the University' from which he (graduated. The ancient institution had a lon:4 list to choose from, and the unanimity and <^ladness with which he was selected proved his standint^ where of all places he was best known. Under his tfiiidance, the University i)ros- M'ed, an d 1 lis w; an( wo rds made a deep and lastiuLf impression on all his students. After he had left the prcsidenc)' MKI IloDlsT |:i>IIitl'S. lie was recalled, in iSSi. to l)c the oratni- at the setni-ceiitemiial "t" llie L'iii\'ersit\'. Alter Ixiiii; iiuinl)ei' nf three (ieiural (.'oiifei- eiices, he was, in iSSo. i leeted Ihshoi). lie lixid liis residence at Minneapolis. Since his se\'ere sickness in iSSj.he has not enjoyed the robust heahh of former \"ears, hut iir^ i)re>ence with his conferences has ne\er failed to be a comfort and a blessing;-. I low such men come to their hi;^Ii place 1)\- the plain ])ath of duty! SimpI)' ami nobl\-, makin;^ the most of their ;^ifis. the\- find the Head of the Church in His own time ,u)i\ way, settiu"' them where 1 ie would ha\e them. 'l"he\- are bishops of Divine nlakin,<^^ The thirt>'-second Hishop is John I'^letch- er Hurst. He repre- sents that fair region so fertile in the early day.s of American M e t h o d i s m, where Asbur\' rested from his lon^ toil of jour- ne\'s. . Ohio ha.s furnished ten liishops and Maryland hartUy one. It was time that the pleasant state should have its reprc- sentativc. Hishop Hurst was born in Salem in 1834. He was of ancient Methodist stock, and his uncle, John Hurst, a lialtimore merchant, \\a.-. active and foremost in the (now) Mount Vernon Church for o\er fi ft)' years. The l^ishop had his [)reparator}' education at Cam- bridf^e, in his own state, and naturall)' took his colleL;iate course at Dickinson College, where he L;raduatetl in 1S54. After two \ears of teachin;^ he went to German}'. Somethini; in the framin<^ of his mind, even in his very looks, indicates his affinit}' with German ideas. In that land of deep thouj^ht and wide research, he was at once at home. Their neology and rationalism JOHN F. HURST, D.U., LL O. ly-^ THE STURV Ui'" METIIUUISM. 1 {■?! ■■ Si '" swi. r were not what he went to sccl,:, an}- more than their beer and tobacco. What he did seek he found in good supply and made it his own, tlieir careful criticism and their fullness of attainment. At Halle and Heidelber;^ he reveled in their ancient stores as a bee in lields of clover. vVfter two years of study, he entered the pastorate in the Newark Conference, and there continued for eight years. The Theological Institute, which we saw at Bremen, Ger- many, taking the name of the Martin Institute, was then opened, and he went over as its director. He was entirely at home with the German mind, and his s)-mpathy with the difficulties of the time ami of the land fitted him well to guide and strengthen the students in his care. During tliis period of five years' service he visited other lands. in 1S71, he was made professor of Historical Theology ai Drew Seminar}', and two }-ears later he became president of the seminar}'. He had alwa}'s been a working author, and his " His- tor}' of Rationalism" was alread}' a standard authority. Some ten other works show his industr}', so that he is, of all our Bishops, the author most \'oluminous. He is not an orator. In the pul[)ii or oil the platform he is a thinker and teacher, alwa}'s calm and clear. alwa}s saving something worth hearing and worth retaining. If the l'!nuMsonian rule be good — that the first rule of eloquence is tli.it the audience know "what the fellow is at" — then Bishoji Hurst is alwa}'s elocpient. Surel}' we need no other Bislioj) fu- tile German work. At his election, in 1 SSo, he fixed his resi- dence at Des Moines, Iowa. I'.rastus ()lis Ilawn was the thirty-third Bish»jp. He wa^ cousin of Gilljerl Ha\en. an. I was born in Boston, 1.S20. IK had the faniil}' energ}' and \ risatilit}', and filled with honor a great \ariety of situations. In 1S4J, he graduated at the \\'e> levan L'niversit\', and went to teaching in ilie i\menia Seiii- inar\-. reaching after graduation seems to be the rule with these men, aiid for the \er}' iiUelligible reason that financial stress i> then felt, and the graduate must put money in his purse. It i^ also true that, while, .is .1 churchly service, teaching is ranketl in- fererior to the p.i-^torate, it cert.iinl}' completes the education, which, at leaxing college, is .it best iiiconii>lete. Bishop Haven was, for a few ye;us, in tli pastorate in New York. He then m METHODIST IHSIKJl'S. taught Latin in the Univcrsit;, f Michigan, and luigHsh in Union College, New York. In 1856, he began as editor o{ /lion's llcrahi, following Abel Stevens, and in no place of his life was his service more satisfac- tory. It was a period when New England's pulse was high, and his Herald was the leader of its sentiment. To be wise when ex- citement was so intense, and the land of the Puritans was rocking, was no easy thing, but the editor did it well and fairly, lie was aided, and his Herald made spicy by the swift and restless pen of of his cousin Gilbert. During his editorship he was overseer of Harvard University and a Senator of Mrs sachusetts. He left the III raid and became chancellor of Michigan University in 1S63, After six years of ser- vice, during which the University grew rap- idly, he chose to take tlie same position in Northwestern Univer- sity at l^vanston. I'rom this place he was, after three years, take;' to be secretary oi" ;lie Hoard of h.du- jation of the Church. One more ])erioil of ethicational work •iwaited him at the Syracuse Universit)'. Here he became chan- cellor in 1874. During his six years of occupancy of the place, its tine building was erected; its interests put in a safe and j)i'r- nianent conditi(M"!. and thi instituti mi fairly set upon its great career. In iS8j, its chancellor was chost-n Hisho]) of his Church. He was now sixty years of age, and the labors of a life might .seem to have told upon a frame always slender, bu« he rose at once to the level of his n^-w duties. Of course he was no no\ice in Church work. In his Conferences he gave the utmost care to ERASTUS OTIS HAVEN, D. D., I.L. I). 'i I 734 THE STURV OF iMETllODISM. ■■■I ;■ ??>{'■ "i'*^'" A '^ the smallest duties of his office, and such had been his experience with men in his many relations with th'.mi that he found no trou- ble in his new work. J lis Episcopal service ended in a year by his death in Salem. Our next Hishop, the thirty-fourth in the lengthening pro- cession, is William Xaxic Ninde. He is a native of central New York, and was born at Cortlandville, in 1832. No Bishop has such a family line. James Ninde, an extensive farmer near London, was a j)reacher dear to Wesley. The I^ishop's son, now f P" w-' ' — ' " " 'M ■ >■<.:« jjw u .BM a member of Detroit C o n f e r e n c e, is fifth from James, a preacher following four lineal preachers, whose ser- vices span one hun- dred and twent}'-five years. His father hatl been one of the most eloquent preachers of the region, and only his delicate heal h and extreme modesty kept him from the highest places, h'ew of those far more widely re- puted than he as ora- tors would so affect an audience. W11.LIA.M \, NINDE. D.I)., 1.1..D. So, born with an inheritance, there could be no doubt of the son's career after C()nversu)n iwyd calling brought him to the work of the min- istr)'. This son graduaterl at the W'esleyan University in 1S55, and the next year he entered the [jastorate in central New York. His preaching drew immediate attention. His voice was not ringing nor always clear, bvit it was sj-mpn hetic and agreeable, suiting well the cast of his thought and the temper of his heart. He seemed to take his hearers into his deepest con- fidence, and speak to tiiem of things of the utmost concern to himself as well as to them. What all preachers try to do, and are METIIODlsr lUSIlOI'S. /35 s experience ind no trou- n a year by :henin^ jjro- ccntral New Bishop has farmer near )p's son, now ;r of Detroit nice, is fifth es,a preacher four lineal i, whose ser- in one hiin- 1 twenty-five lis father had of the most preachers of )n, and only te heal It id nodesty kept the hiL;hest ew of those widely re- n he as ora- so afk'ct ce. orn with an career after )f the niiii- ity in 1.S55, entral New I lis voice i. hetic and J temper of leepest con- concern to do, and are glad to do, he seemed to do almost without an effort. Such a preacher and pastor was always in demand. In a Ru \cars, iS^i. he was called to Cincinnati and there served in the most promi- nent Churches. After extensive travel in 1X68-69, through luirope and the l^ast, he becanu- j)astor at hriidit.. in thnc )'ears he went to I'Lvanston as Professor of Traclica! Thcoloi^y in Garrett Hiblical Institute. His uniform succi.'ss as pastor i)ro\i'd that the secret of his calliuL; he well undei-slood. His drparMut-iit was really the professorship of relii;ion, antl in it he was al rase and in great efficiency. His first service ii'i the (ieneral ConU'r- encc was in 1876. Once more he went back to Detroit and served a term with his dear people at tlie Central Church, whose edifice is counted the finest in our Methodism. Meanwhile, tin presidency of Garrett Biblical Institute became \acant and he wa^ called to fill it. His service in his high place had but fairly begun when he was chosen to the higher one. There were oth "r men more conspicuous, and perhaps in some wa)s more gifted, but his gentleness, his skill in [)astoral guidance, his profound religious experience, were agreed to indicate him as a. man who could do wide-lasting good to the Church. Perhaps l^is venerable appearance, prematurely white hair crowning a majestic form and fiorid face, had something to do with this. His home is al 'r(,)peka, Kansas. John M. Walden, the thirty-fifth l^ishop, was elected May 15, 1884. He was elected for his business and executive abilit)-. It is fitting that such talent command respect and have recognition. Mr. Wesley seemed to have in his own person ihe whole rounti of talents, but he was extraordinar} . Usually to each man is ■ f •li 'ti ill >w '-i i'. .• ""'Wf J'/^''' *m[^' ^- rr^-r-vrr rr ,■ 736 THE STORY OF METHODISM. with all his heart. The crisis and colHsion of the time centered in Kansas, the hind bein^ then open for settlement and the rejjeal of the Missouri Compromise leaving the young state to be Slave or Free, as its first settlers should decide. V/alden went to Kansas, startetl a journal at Ouindaro and threw himself with all his might into the conflict, lie served in the Legislature ami was made superintendent of Public Instruction. For ten years he was in the pastorate of the Cincinnati Conference, during which he was especially active in Sunday-school work. He then, 1^ in 1868, became book agent at Cincinnati. It is a factvery compli- mentary to his talent for business that Ik was kept there four- s' -M teen years and that the Concern grew rapidl\' under his care, his department of it being the local and manu- facturing interest. As citizen of his town, lu' was able to do ex- cellent ser\'icc. llr was member of tlu' Board of ICducation and chairman of the Library Committee, JOUNM.WALDEX.D.D..LL.D. ^^.^^^^.^ ,^j^ ,,^|^,^,. ^, „. the public Library was wise and effective. Cincinnati is the Irui headcjuarters of the I'reedmen's Aid Societ)', being the home of Dr. Rust, its secretar\-, and Dr. W'alilen was an earnest heljjer nf the society's enterprises. To this and the fu'orable sentiment tt)wards him thus created in the .South, is his election to tlu Kpiseopac)' in part due. llis ele\ation occurred in 1SS2, .uid since that time all his gifts and graces have had full emplo\'menl. His residence is now at Chattanooga, Tenn. W'illartl v. Mallalieu is the thirty-si.xth Hishop. As hi^ family name suggests, he came of that h'rench lineage that has so METHODIST I'.ISIIOI'S, in honorable a record in the Protestant worlii. He was born in 1828 at Sutton, Mass., and is thus the most recent representative, both of his state and of his Universitv' in the Episcopacy. It cannot be said of any of the later liishops that they have tasted the severities that were niin<^led for their i)redecessors. Ihe times have chant^ed and the fare of Bishops, like that of other men, changes with them. Surely there is no virtue in hardship for its own sake, and he would be a strant^e man who chose it rather than straightforward labor. lie would seem to have in his composition an ingre- dient of barbarism. Thus Bishop Mallalieu h a s no record of moving accidents or liair-breadth escapes, lie has had a life of simple liard work, and such he is still having. In 1857, at the mature age of twenty-five, he graduated at the Wes- leyan University, the \enerable mother of so many Bishops. If he was later than some in graduation (and early graduation is not the best), he was yet ready for immediate business, and he entered life as a strong man to run a race, loitering the pastorate in 1858, he remained in it, except a year as president of East Tennessee College, until he became Bishop, lie seems to have had little care ti^ be known beyond the Churches that he was immediately serving, yet all the time his good repute was growing like a tree in the silent lapse of time. Ik'ing a member of the General Conference in 1880, he gave in Cincinnati an address of eulogy on Bishop Gilbert Haven, who had recently deceased. It is needless to >ay that this was of great rnerit. It marked the orator in the minds of his brethren 47 WILLARD F. MALLALIF.U.D. D. 73« Tlir, STORV OF MKIIIODISM. as the man to receive the mantle of their departed brother and to continue Bishop Ha\en's special work amont; what housed to call " his shining ones," our colored people at the South. At the next General Conference in IMiiladelphia, he was elected, and his residence was fixed at Xew ( )rleans, the center of his "diocese." The mantle and sp'wh of his sky-L^one brother are with him, and his soul exults in etforts of beL(i;int; and buildinjjj, of tramp .and travel, of training; and shepardizini;, for the millions put chiellx in his chari^e. He stamps Xew hjiL;land upon Texas. Charles H. Fowler is the thirty-seventli liishop, and until thi- year he brought up tlu rear of the episcopal train. This is fitting;, as he was the youni;esi as well as the most recent Bishop. His rise has been the most rapid on the record. 1 le is the only " for- eii^ner" since Asbury, luu'ini; been born in Hurford, Canada, in 1837. -^t. four he wa-> brouL^ht with his faniil\ to Illinois, and there- fore has needed no CHARLES HENRY FOWLER, D. D.. LL. 1., ..^her naturalization. His earl)- studies were had at Rock Ri\er Seminar)', ami in 1S59 he L,M-aduated at Genesee College (now Syracuse Universit)- ) with the hiL,diest honors of his class. His friends were then look- ini; on him with both the i;reatest admiration and also with deep concern. He was freii;hted with such talents and enerLncs and dominated with an ambition so overmasterint; that, should his course be rii;hteoui;, his eminence was sure; should it be wron;4, the wreck must be disastrous. Hap|)ily, their hopes and not their fears came true. On Christmas of his L^raduatinj^ year, being then student of law in Chicago, he was converted, and the MKTllohlSl- r.ISIloi'S. 7yj bcLMi born in rd, Canada, in I At four he wa-^ It with his famil\ aturahzatit)!!. MTiinary, and in ■ic Univcrsit}- ) Iwcrc then lot)k- also with deep Id enerLHCS and liat, should hi-. Id it be \vr(»n:4, hopes and n<>\ |iaduatinj4 year, ivertcd, and the whole course and aim of his life was chanf^ed. Ik' then i^ave himself to the niinistr)- ami entereil (laneli P>iblical Institute. At the end of his stay the war broke out and lie at once orj^anized a compaii}- of I'^anston students, nian\- of whom diil <40od service, and thus he was captain, our onl) military liishop. In the pastorate at ChicaLio he saw Centenary church built durin^f his labors, 'ihe roarint;. stirriuLi; cit}' appreciated him and worked with him. After the -^reat hre he was successful in raising funds at the l"^a.st to restore its waste places, csijccially its churches and the Gar- rett Biblical Institute, the losses of which in Chicas^o had been very L^reat. In 1H72, he was inatle president of the Northwestern Univer- sity, as indeed he had been invited to become [tl ill 1866, and in this (iffice he remained four wars. 1 le was orator and preacher more ihan educator, and his calls to the puli)it and platform were simply nicessant. In 1S76, he w as made editor of the .{(fvorah' at New York, I h e hi-hest editorial '0"^ HEVi vixcENT. d p., i.l. d. position in his Church, and after four )-e "s he became missionary secretary. In whate\er office he m.'.)' be, his electric activity and Ins Ljift of overpowerin^uf appeal produce the same \aluable results, riie platform is his throne, and from it he rules the spirits of all within ranijje of his voice. Since his election to the Mpiscopacy, in 1SS4, he has taken for his i^round the Pacific slope, to L^uide and spread the Church in the wist realms where eniiures are ris- ini; and roundin^i; into form, and he can make his life sublime. The thirtx'-eii^hth Bishop is John II. Vincent. His relation to the Sunday-school and to Chautauqua, has called for some {)\ I :5 X\\ 1 n>'m i: I ! i ,! 'I I '! i'!-! '|. ■ '1 1. 1 740 'lUK sroRV OF METHODISM. sketch of him in another place. The building builds the builder. Dr. Vincent's wise and steady effort, crowned with broad success, in unfoldin<^ and perfectini,^ the dei)artment in which his duties lay, from which he departed only to subdue provinces adjacent and to make them subsidiary to it, not only developed in him the fulness of a Church worker, but brought the Church to know his general merits. lie came to be a .Sunday-school leader in the Protestant world, and to have an excellent repute in many lands and among all denominations, so that his elevation to the General Superintendency was a matter of nearly uni- versal expectation and consent. Imperious, self-centered and orac- ular, he brought to his new office the prestige of unbroken success, and all his movements will have behind thcni twent\'-five }ears of victory. Mis resi- dence is at Buffalo, two hours from Chau- tauqua. James N. Fit/- Gerakl, the thirt\- ninth bishop v/as born in Newark, N. J., in JAMES N.FITZ-GEKALD.D.D. jg^j^ ^^^ ^^.^^ ^j- .^ solid Methodist family, and after due training in required study was, at twenty, admitted to the bar. He seemed a lawyer boni. The cast of his mind, the aspect which all matters took on before him, even his choice of words and his careful utterance indicated a legal temperament. At twenty-five he was converted and at once felt the ministry to be his calling, loitering the Newark Confer- ence, he continued in the pastorate, varied by some service as Presiding Elder, until he became bishop. For eleven years he was Secretary of his Conference ; for eight years, Rccordiiii,' Secretary of the Missionary Society. A lawyer in the Church, if pr -1 « -' ■;«-. ^-tt^^J^iii' ' ^ ^ ■'' ■ J ■ \ '. -i^i I^HnHBMnB£l^v J '. BHRN^HHIfP^^Hi h 'j^aHHHitHB fMMtUBKwd''^ R' 7 ' ^^^^^HK|^-^ f.*" ■ *sl ^^^^^^^^HhF HflHni m^ , ^^^^■l-' it' "^ MKiiionisr i;isin>i's. 741 his sympathy is with the Church, is a most useful person, and in the Hoard of Bishops, Or. l'it/-(nraUl seemed to come to the place vacant by the death of Jiishoj) Harris, and he like him, the jurist of the Board. His home is at Minneapolis, IMimiesota. Isaac W. Joyce was chosen as fortieth in the ICpiscopal order. Me was born in Ohio, in 1836, but his family soon removing to Indiana, he is claimed by the Methodists of that peculiarly Meth- odist State. At sixteen he was converted, and all his thoughts turned in the direc- tion along which his life has been moving. His education was had at Asbury (now L)e Pauw) Universit}', so associated with the names of Bowman and Simpson. He after- wards served a suc- cessful pastorate un- der the walls of his Alma Mater. Most of his thirty years of ministerial service h a v e been i n the Northwest Indian a Conference. Of late lie has served at St. Paul's and Trinity, Cincinnati, and at his election was in his second term at the latter. During the revival conducted in Cincinnati by Sam. Jones. Dr. Joyce was his foremost supporter. After Jones left the cit}-, the work continued under Dr. Joyce's management, by whose skillful and unwearied labors not only were the fruits of the former efforts well gathered, but the original movement was happily continued. Dr. Joyce, then pastor at Trinity, found himself at the head of tlie Protestant work of Cincinnati. The impression which he made as a rcvnval pastor, a workman needing not to be ashamed, led to his selection as bishop to rei)resent in the Board that stj'le ISAAC WILSON JOYCE, D. D. ,w I, 1. ; ;!' :;: : V 1 ir 1 1 1 ; ' 1 1 ii • ( 4 f\ , 1 1 1 j ) 1 II ' ] 1| ' i •■! 'I .f J ii f u I I i ['■ i Hi: IH I 1(1 te^ I- if"' jii .«?*][•.■'>' :•• ,* . i'j. i-. *'<" ■• ■.:, ■„„■ 5'! ti 742 'IIIK STOUV or MKiiKtDlS.M. of c\aii;^fclic;il ability, ami !)>• that ability l.c 'ill best be known. Me is to reside at ChattanooL;a. John P. Newman, who, in a certain sense, occupies the " fortN- first arm chair" in the ICpiscopac)', was born in New York, in I S"jr). Converted at sixteen, he then first be^'an his eilucation. At Cazenovia, his teacher remembers him as of line personal ap- pearand.', of rare taste in dress aiul propriel}' in manners, courteous and dignified beyond his years — no \ul_L;ar bo)-, indeed ! He was already a workinif Christi.an. and his se\en years in the Oneida Conference were like I Jacob's seven under L.iban. l-'nterint; the Troy Con fe r e n c e (heartened and ^uid- eil by a highly cul- tured wife) his ;4ifts rapidly unfolded and he entered upon his true career. In 1S3S he became pastor in New York. In 186;; Bishop A m e s sent him to New OrK-ans I o look a ft e r the Churches which the fortune of war had thrown into the Bish- op's hands. A tjjreat JOHN PHILIP NKWMAN. I). D., LL. D. and effectual door was open to him, and there were many adversaries. So wisely ami effectively did he achieve his hard task, that on his completion of it in I1S69, he was complimented with the chaplaincy of the C S. Senate. The Metropolitan Church was then beL,ain as a national centre for Methodism, and he became its pastor, and at his ilec- tion was there serving" his third pastt)rate. Meanwhile lie had ^one around the world as Inspector of the Consular service, hatl servcil a pastorate in New York, and had eccentricalh' been pas- tor of a Coni^reijjational church now \anished; had written books, had been delei^ate to the hxumcnical Conference in London. His jcst l)c known, , (iCClipic'S till' II in New York. 1 his I'ducation. ic personal ap- incrs, courteous .Iced ! lie was in the Oneida ence were hke i seven under iMitcriiiL; llie Con fe r e n c e jncd and ^uid- a lii^hly cul- wife) his ,L;ifts ' unfolded ami cred upon his ircer. In iiSiS :amc pastor in 'ork. In kS6^ A ni e s sent New ( )rK'ans ) k a ft e r the es which the of war had into the Bish- luls. A ij^reat jctual door was So wisely and completion of py of the L'. S. n as a national 1(1 at his I'lec- iwhile he h;id u- service, had :ally been pas- AN'ritten books, London. His .Mi:rii<»i)i^i' liisiioi's. /43 taste, his bearing and his accomplishments have alw;i\-> hrouMht to him the hii;her classes, and he has moved annmL^ lluin a> ihcir peer without losini; the simi)licity antl spirituality of .i Christian minister. I lis home will be at Omaha. Daniel A. Cioodsell, the forty-second bishop, is the vouni^e^t o( them .all. His birthplace was .it Newburi;, on the Hudson, in 1S40. His father. Rev. Huel Cioodsell, was oiu' of the i)uil(Krs of Methodism from Lake Champl.iin to Montauk I'oint, and the son is i^reatly blest in matter of heredity. The future l)ish(.|) was, at n i n e t e e n <.rradu;ited from the New York University, a n d a t once followed his father into the New York Conference. His niaiestic stature and development i n t r o- duccd him well, and he h.is ^ivcn unbro- ken service for thirt}' ye.irs. His pastorates in New Haven have i)een his best. In learniiiLj and literature he commanded the re- spect of the fine old university town, while the beautiful Trinity church was built and damel avkks uool.slll. i..u. filled under his labors. T'or several years he furnished the Hook Reviews of the Ckristiim Advocate, and at the bcL^inning of this year, 1888, he was chosen editor o{ Zioiis IIcrahL He was more needed as Secretary of the Board of lulucation. aiul th.it office he filled for a few months, until he became bishop. He brini;s to his new place a tlistinct literar}- trainint:^ .and a wide, careful accpiaint- aner with the course of thought in this period. He takes his home in the heart of that great domain, Texas, the France of America. Such are the Bishops of the M. \\. Church in America, but to these should be added three names of men servinu" in Africa. % 0^.\^>^^% IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) ^ 1.0 I.I 11.25 If Ki2 1 1.8 U 11.6 P^ .% -*/ <$> Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WES1 MAIN STRLET WEBSTER, N.Y 14580 (716) 872-4503 ,\ V ■1? :\ \ '4^^ 4:. ?• €s. V M?^ f "I Ml ! ti • : ,-n^"-^>'-T|.,.!;| .■^fiijN.-t'v.^- li'l: 744 THE STORY OF METHODISM. Francis Burns was a native of Albany, N. Y., botn in 1809, a thorough African. At eight, he was, on account of the poverty of his parents, put with a farmer, but he spent his winters and some part of his summers at school. The family that reared him was kindly and devout, the lady being herself a class leader. At fifteen he was converted, but, as he was bound to service in the family until twenty:;one, he would not begin to preach soousr. He hungered for learning, and, while in attendance at high school, he made his first efforts at preaching. It was refreshing to see his talent and character over- come at the outset all the disabilities of his color, and he arose to the very high esteem of all. At- tention was called to him as a man available for the mission work then open- ing in Liberia, and after a course of appropriate study he went out, in 1833, with John Seys as missionary teacher. His ancestral land sorely needed him. but he had been for several genera- tions homed in another climate, and it is doubtful if Africans from our Northern States are better fitted than the whites for tropical residence. For two years Burns suffered severely from African fever. Recovering, he became abundant in labors. Ik'sides teaching and preaching, he edited Afriiiis LfDiiiiiaiy, and his excessive ability was of great use, as oversight from America was remote and precious. He was a model of what is possible for his race. He was refined in his manner, fluent and often eloquent in speech, and clear in all his ideas, free from all servility, and a good, wholesome man. His African brethren counted him their representative, and when it was decided to have a Bishop for Africa their choice fell on him, FRANCIS BURNS. First Missionary bishop (or Africa. -METHOIHST lUSlKM'S. 745 boin in 1809, a of the poverty lis winters and hat reared him ass leader. At service in the preach soouer. at high school, Aung to see his character over- e outset all the of his color, Dse to the very m of all. At- 3 called to him .vailable for the Drk then open- :ria, and after a of appropriate ; went out, in John Seys as teacher. His and sorely m. but he had everal gcnera- d in another d it is doubtful I n s from our tatcs arc better ,vo years Burns <7, he became ling, he edited f great use, as IS. He was a refined in his lear in all his me man. His .', and when it ce fell on him, He was ordained by Bishop Janes in 1858. The office of Bishop in a land of poverty and ignorance, " in partibus infidelium." with a million of heathen in his diocese and his own people unable to bear strong meat, was difficult and exacting. He had a thousand things to discourage him, but as many to cheer him onward. For about five years he was able to make full proof of his Episcopacy, spending and being spent for his people. His strength being then greatly wasted, he came to America to recruit, but recruiting was not to be his. He died in Baltimore in 1863. This first Methodist African Bishop left a record as honorable as any of his white brethren. John W. Roberts was the second African Bishop. He was born in Petersburg, Va., in a free family, in 181 2. lie went to Liberia among its earliest settlers, being iUready a member of the ,;^f"^ Ciiurch. After several years '#> of service in preaching, he "^ came, in 1841, to this country to be ordained. Then followed twenty-three )'cars of preaching, during which he attained pre- nninence among his breth- ren for ability, and also had their fullest brotherly regard, lie is not to be confounded with J. J. Roberts, the foremost man whom Liberia has produced, who, though an ardent and faithful Christian, was a civilian, not an itinerant. After the death of Bishop Burns, the Liberian Conference chose J. VV. Roberts for his successor, and coming to America, Ik; was ordained in New York in 1866. His needv land was greatly blessed in him during the nine years of his Episcopacy, and the Church grew large and nourishing, reaching out into the adjacent regions. He died at Monrovia, the capital, in 1875. There was no other of his race who seemed fitted to take the RF.V. JOHN WRIGHT ROBERTS. Second Missionary Bishop for Africa. J 1 ii ^^■yd,^^\:%M-p _, f '*-'■';, * -ii. ^V' '^'i:' , • I 746 THE STORV OF MK TIK )1)ISM, ()vrrsitj;ht of the Church in T.ibcria, and lluTcforc his place was not tillctl. Bishop (iilhcrt llavcn \isiU(l thr country, hut it was left for the ])rcsi'nt Bishop of Africa to take the Church there untler his special c tre. William I'aylor, the thirtl Bishop of Africa has already appeared in our Stor)'. lie was horn, in iSji in kockhridi^e, V'a., and became a preacher in 1S4J. A rude youni; llerculos, fit, like him of the Creek mytholoi;\', to endure twi'Ke labors in many lands! He went upon circuits in his natiw region and, rude though he was of s[)eech and little \'ersed in the set phrase that is oftenest heard, he i;ave sii^ns of power. 1 le is a restless rover, born for pionccrinL;, and soon we saw him ship[iint; a church from Baltimore to California and hurr)'- int;" to ori^ani/.cthe first society in San I-'ran- e i scti . " California Taylor" was for years his name. In 1S56, he came to the ICast and spent five years ^ in evantjfelistic work on the Atlantic coast. His next labors were in Australia, Tasmania and Ce\'Ion. We found thousands of Kaffirs and man\' whites brouiijht to Christ by his preachin( mission work is the I'aidinc Ik,- ])uts ii in two ):^^cn(:ral principles, 'ihe lirst is the " I'ioneer Principle." This means that nun like Paul and Barnabas, at their own cost and risks, must '^o to open new fields. The Ciospel [)ioneer must pay his own expenses and preach the (iospel free of chari^e. His sec(Mi(l, tlie "Coinuu rciai Princii)le," ;\pi)lies when the field has been opened, the val le of the (iospel made known, and the law of sui)ply and demand put in operation. William Taylor i)ropo,sed to api)ly his Pauline method to the rej^ions o])enin!:,r in the heart of Africa. The opportunity to utilize his xeal, hjyalty and experience for the ;^r(,od of that far-away flock in Liberia was not to be lost, and so, in )S,S4, he was made ]iisho[) of Africa. It is not the usa^^e of the Church to make a local or territorial Bishop. The Bishops are equally such in every place, and William Taylor is Bishoj) in New N'ork as much as in Loanda, only he chooses to have charf^^e in Africa alone. Wc have told of his entrance there. His last letter sIujws !iim deli^dited with his work. He is distributing; men and women to his heart's content, and is hopeful of them and their work. About thirty went with him and twenty-six more have since t;one. "I am weepini; for joy as 1 oet acquainted with these dear [)eople." The authorities of the C(;nL;o P'ree State ^^ave them hearty welcome and free convcyanee. The Bishoj) exults in his work and in his helpers. " We don't ajjpear to have a weak- ui!.; amont; us. liishop Taylor, on S^'^S to Africa, i)Ianted himself at once in the heart of his "diocese" in the Cons^o P'ree State. This occupies a wide region in central Africa, a re<^ion rich in all that tropic fertility can produce, and watered by the affluents of the Congo. The King of Belgium is Governor-general of this State, one hundred times as large as his own little Kingdom, and be- yond all crushing between France and Germany. His agent is the famous and noble Henry M. Stanley. The highway to this country is the Congo river. Vui one hundred and ten miles from the Atlantic, it is navigable b\- the largest vessels. Then comes a series of huge cascades, some of great beauty, reaching two hundred and thirty-five miles, and en- tirely shutting off navigation. At Stanley Pool the cascades end, . t* ■ M ;■ '.- .. '■ . ! 'M: -h'. ...-i'. ' ;U- -^ if. >:>..;' ''"i> ;»;;^Hlj.';.'i'; , ■'■;; ,: j|M-i .,,( *'■'', ■'. u'l f:.:.: )i ,Hv:; !'■ r; :'•: -11 ■« i)#^f;f;" ■■.\ ' '(j'l- "I*'*- If,; ,:. i3™ jr»*i.r«r>;rfi.vj',''J^!/i|i;), 74S THE STORY OP^ METHODISM. and the broad, bric^ht streams give seven thousand miles of sailing amid countries populous and productive. Bishop Taylor saw his instant reed of a steamer and, in the winter of 1887, he made his appeal. It was to cost twenty thousand dollars, and he preferred that the money come in dollar contributions. Some would have more " stock," and one, Mrs. Henry Reeu, of Tasmania, asked to give two thousand dollars. From the Bishop's friends all around the world the money came quickly to his hand. Many wished the steamer to be "William Taylor," but he gallantly and justly urged the name "Anne Taylor," from his noble wife, his peer (in her own place and manner) in all labor and sacrifice. The steamer was built in LvUgland ; it was, in April, 1887, shipped from Liverpool, in pieces weighing sixty-five pounds, to be carried on men's backs along that weary path up the cascades, which the stout Bishop has walked already more than once. The steamer is ninety feet long and sixteen feet wide, drawing two feet of water. Its machinery is so arranged as to admit of use in sawing wood in transit, and lumber when at rest. It has a hose worked by steam, which will shoot water with force enough to disperse canoes of "hostiles." One steamer sent from Scotland is before the "Anne" on these mid-African waters. By hindrances unforeseen Bishop Taylor's steamer was not carried to Stanley Pool until 1888 but he lost not an hour thereby. Along the lower Congo and the Lower Cascades, he got land and planted missions and made ready the way of the Lord. The "Anne Taylor" is to convey the Gospel along seven thousand miles of streams in the land which will one day be second to n > other. It will also tell of a toil- some, much-suffering woman, who for over forty years would never let her husband fail of a Gospel duty on her account, who in his long absences trained her four sons, strong and manly as their father, to pure and brave living, and to witness for the Master whom he was serving. Yet is not this steamer with heart of fire and frame of steel, steering fearlessly on an errand of grace along the strange and distant streams, a very type and embodiment of her dauntless husband? Following the precedent of 1884, by which William Taylor was made Bishop of Africa, the General Conference of 1888 made James M. Thoburn Bishop of India and Malaysia. Like Taylor, wmF. MissioxAKv r.isiiors. "49 tiilcs of sailing ra}-k)r saw his , he made his \ he preferred e would have aiiia, asked to ids all around Many wished itly and justly J, his peer (in e. I April, 1887, ve pounds, to the cascades, in once. The drawing two Imit of use in ^t has a hose cc enough to e "Anne" on csecn Bishop .intil 1888 but ongo and the ns and made to convey the le land which tell of a toil- years would account, who and manly as itness for the ler with heart an errand of cry type and illiam Taylor of 1888 made Like Taylor, he is missionary bishop, his functions, not his authority, being limited to the field for which he is elected. He is as truly a bishop as any other, but he operates only in his appointed domain. Could he wish a larger? It has 3,000 miles of longitude and 1,000 miles of latitude, with 300,000,000 of })eople. Dr. Thoburn was born in Ohio, in 1836, and graduated in 1S57, from Allegheny College, Two years later he went to India, and his labor there has been of infinite variety, as his book, " My Mis- sionary Apprenticeship," illustrates. He has, besides simple missionary, been pastor of an English speaking church in Calcutta; presiding elder and editor of the Indian Witness. For the last three years he has been Conference Evangelist. Three times he has been member of Gen- eral Conference. In his bearing he is very quiet and unobtrusive, and his utterance is that of one conversing and watching how his words are taken, as if giving all his thought to the winning of somebody to the truth. Thirty james m. thoburn. d. d. years have given him knowledge of India, its tongues and people, and all the needs of its work, and there could be no doubt of him as the man for its Bishop. Out of India his work is growing in far away Singapore, and its demands in Burmah increases rapidly. These two missionary bishops differ in person, temper and habit, as much as men well can, but each has a great office and each will be followed in his work with sympathy and prayer. The Church has now ightc diops We have thus told the individual story of the Bishops of the M. E. Church. They are but men, and not the only men of 750 THE "STORY OF METHODISM. power and repute. They arc, however, representative men. Their personal characters tell the Uking and tendency of the Church that chooses them, and in them we see the turn and temper of the Church in their day. Study them and we know what manner of Methodism is now around and among us. There are men enough as worthy of the Episcopal office as any now filling it, but not more worthy, and these have been freely chosen. It is now three centuries since the French Academy was founded, with arm-chairs and members limited to forty. In the forty arm- chairs have sat the ablest scholars of France, yet a witty writer has shown how often the ablest man of the period has been sitting in "The forty-first arm-chair" — i. e., has been just outside of the Academy. That may be so of the Methodist i^Lpiscopacy. CHAPTER LVI. Bishops of the M. E. Church South. INSCRIPTIONS of Bishops Andrews, Soule, and Capers have ahx-ad}' betn '^Wcn. In the Church South, has been a hne of able and effective ]iish()i)s. In 1844, Bishop Soule (portrait pa^c 440), and Andrew (portrait pat^e 537), remained with the southern division. After two \-ears, there were chosen William Capers (portrait, pai^e475) and Robert Paine. The latter, fifth bishop of the Church South, was born in North Carolina, in 1799, forty- seven years before his election to the I'^piscopate, in a home rich in the best of Southern character and culture. His family early went to the fertile region of West Tennessee, and though this was a new country, he found means to become in his youth a classical scholar. Entering the Tennessee Conference at seventeen, he volunteered for the toils and perils of missionary life in Alabama and among the Choctaws. ' At twenty-five, being Presiding Elder in Tennessee, he was a delegate to the General Conference of 1824. In the journey to Baltimore he was companion of Bishop McKendree, who, now feeble, leaned for aid and comfort in both mental and bodily efforts on his strong comrade. After six years of pastoral service. Dr. Paine took the * )•■ 75-^ illK MORV ()i MKlllODlSM. II I iiliiii P M, i presidency of L;i Graiii^c CoHcl^u'. Ahi., scr\in^ until he became bishop. His educational work was excellent. No man in the South surpassed him as .i [)roficient in Gcoloijjy and Mineralo<;y, his favorites, but his hir;hest fame was as a [general educator. In 1844 he shared witli Dr. Winans, the Church leadership of the southwest, and was in both the threat General Conference of that year and the Convention of the year foUowin*^, chairman of the most important committees. With reluctance, he at the call of the Churcli, assumed in 1846 the toilsome office of bishop. It brouy;ht him with its labors a course of ac- cidents by flood and field, of fierce diseases and hair-breadth es- capes that made his long survival and serv- ice a wonder. Not until eighty-three did he become superanu- ated and then at once, from his quiet home at Aberdeen, he was called to the Church on high. In bearing, in per- sonal culture, in for- tune and social posi- sition, he was a South- ern gentleman of the noblest order, and when he put himself and his estate into the service of Christ and the Church, all felt that he was to be a prince and a great man in Israel. Nor were any disappointed. He had a legal mind and his only book, "The Life and Times of William McKendree," gives large and luminous views of Church government, such as the student of church history can profitably read, mark and inwardly digest. Henry Biddleman Bascom (portrait, page 501), sixth Bishop of the Church oouth, has elsewhere been noted. He was born in western New York in 1796, but his early home was in REV. ROBERT PAINE, D. D. Fifth Bishop of the M, E. Church South. llISlIol'S (Jl" rilH M. i;. Llll U( II soLIII. /?3 til he became o man in the :1 iMincralo!^)', ctlucator. In dcrship of the "eretice of that airman of the at the call of of bishop. It him with its course of ac- by flood and fierce diseases ir-breadth es- hat made his -vival and serv- wonder. Not ghty-three did )me superanu- d then at once, 5 quiet home at een, he was :o the Church aearing, in per- ulture, in for- d social posi- e was a South- leman of the state into the 2 was to be a disappointed, and Times of ews of Church can profitably ), sixth Bishop He was born home was in southeastern Ohio. "Slow rises worth by po\-frl} opjuTs^ed." hut I lenry while still a boy. fell his [jouers, iiiid slru;^;.;K(l lo in. ike the most of them. At tilteen lu: was boring; pump-loL;> by AdV, Mul exhortint;- at nii;hl, ami at sixteen he enlrrcd the ( )liio Conference. His maLinihcent st.iture, \'(>ice and biaiini; luil iiim i'ar ill front of his \-ears. In dress he dit't'ered fioiii liis bn ihiL'U. " Ct)Stl\- tb.>' habit as th\' purse can l)U}-,"\\as a new departure \\r: Methodist prt-achers, but he did it. Xor was he a we.il^liut;. lie took his share anioni;- wild beasts, Indian>, and the wild frontier. He rapidly -rew to be the wonder (if the West. Hishop ^ I c Kendree transferred liini to Kentucky. In e\ery place he stood aloof from his brethren on a lofty footini; of his own. At twenty-seven lie was Chaplain of C'onp^ress, and thereafter his place as a leader in ihe Church was assured, becomint;- Chancellor of 'rrans)'lvania Universi- ty, Kentucky, he was in the General Conference of 1844, and the hardly less famous Convention ^^^ ^^^^^^.^^ ^,,^^^^.,,,^ ,,j,,,^, j, ,, ^^ of IS45. He held l)Ut sixth r.lshop of the M. E. church .Smuh. one Conference after his entrance upon the l4)iscopat.' in 1S50. in AuL^ust of that year he died at Louisville. I lis Noinnus of sermons and lectures are valuable but they only inii)ertectly perpetuate his lofty character and i;ratul personality. GeorL^e Foster Pierce, the sixth Bishop, was the hrst-born of Lovick Pierce, then, i8i i, a ph\-siciaii of Grecnsboroui^h, Geori^ia. l\ivored with early advantaL;es, he was at fifteen rcad\' for h^-ank- lin College, and at nineteen ho graduated. It was with no light struggle that he turned from brilliant prospects in the law, but with Bishop Andrew's counsel and comfort, he in 1831, entered 48 ij t f'<,' .,t ' .(■ '-.'irsr^'v'' J ■-■■■»• Hi ■>>■, ■ ■[.■-»■ 11 ■■■ J. I f, ^<-'- ,. 754 '11 IK SIOKV or MKriinniSM. Conference. Vi)v Why )'ears, like a Imiiiiian' without a cloud, he was (ie()i<^ia's toreniost preacher. Ilis pastoral service was varied b\' educational and editorial work, lie became delegate to Gen- eral Conference in 1S40, ami in iS44he was the most t;allant champion of Southern ideas, dashing with fearless eloc[uencc upon New ICn^land and the North, )et keejiin^' the personal i\- sj)ect and affectit)n of his opponents. An address at the time, before the .\merican Bible Societ)', ^ave him a national reputa- tion. In 1848, he became for eij^ht years, presiilent of h'.mory College, Geori^ia, ami then at forty-three he was made l^ishop. In his power as liishoj) and preacher, ami in his strength and sweel- ness as a man, he in tin South, was like Simj)- son in the North. In- deed he was a thoroui^ii Southerner, and Hishop Simpson did not mon ardently ui)hold thr Union than did Bishoj) Pierce the Confederacw Hut when the storm of war was o\er, he heart! 1\ accepted the new order that rose upon the ruins of the old. In 1876 a severe ailment of the throat hindered n ch pul^lic serx'ice, yvi for eight years he occasionally preached and with the old power and unction, until at Sparta, Georgia, the end came. The Re\ . George G. Smith, of Macon, will soon give the world a biog- raphy of Bishop Pierce, and our Southern brethren will greet his portrayal of the most truly representative man of the Church South. John Early (portrait page 474), was born in 1786, of a stately Virginia family, and by marriage came into powerful con- nection of the Rives. Entering Conference in 1805, he was in 18 12, member of the first Delegated General Conference. His REV. HUHli.ARl) HINDE K.WAN.VUGH, D. D. Eighth liishop of the M. E. Church South. mSIlOl'S (»!• IIIK M. I. ( IILKCII Soilll. nut a cloud, In- •vice was varied L'lc^atc to Gcii- c most ^fallaiu rlcss cloc[uciice lie personal re- ss at the time, lai'ional reputa- deiit of I'.mory , CieorL;ia, aiul forty-three hr .de Bishop. In wcr as l^ishop eacher, and in nirth anil sweet- a man, he in tin was like Sinij)- the North. In- ,' was a thorouL;li rner, and Bishop n did not mon y uphold thv han did Bishop leConfcderac)-. n the storm of ver,heheartil\ 1 the new order eupon the ruins aid. In 1876 a ic ser\'ice, \'i.'i the old pown me. The Re\ . world a bioi;- n will ij;vcct his Church South. in 1786, of a powerful con- 805, he was in nference. His / .">.") O) hrst ministerial labors were amon-; JrfUrson's sla\esand he w.is ever as ready to serve the lo\\l\- as llu; lofty. A thousand were converted at one of his canip-meetin_L;s. Randolph Macon C0I- let^eisthe monunuiit to his educational toil and ui-doni. In 1S46, he was made the first i^)ok AL;ent of his C'hurch. j-'rom this post he in 1S54, at si\t>-iiL;ht, became Bishop. l<'or twelve \-ears he servi'd with a fullness of eneri;)- that a >'ouni; man mii^lu env\- ; then ([uietl)- retiring, he died in 1S73. His skill ami force in busiriess ser\'etl his Church in its sorest need of such i^ifts and he w as a wise and faithfid steward of its infant interests. I Iidibard 1 1. Ka\'- a!iau!4h, eighth South- ern Bishop, was by birth in 1802, a Ken- tuckian. His father from a Methodist preacher had become in I'.piscopal rector. 1 lis mo*!"!' ' daughter I if Dr. Hinde, an emi- nent local preacher, trained her boy in her own deep piet}'. While learning the printer's trade \\ith a Presbyte- lian elder, )-oung" Kav- anaugh was converted and began itineranc\' ' .' KKV. DAVID SETH DOGGKTT. D >>. Ul)On the hard circuits Ninth HUhop of the M. E. church South. i>f the mountains. A stern school he had, but it shaped him well. He gained the southwestern st)'le of rhetoric, exuberant, tlramatic and picturesque, " beginning his sermons in Eden and ending them in heaven." The wa}-s of such preachers are not equal ; they sometimes fail, but theii success tell j)owerfully. Becoming Bishop in 1854, he was during the war the only South- ern IMshop within the Federal liu'-s, and in California was for a while under military arrest. He was honorably released, and went on with his sacred office in the wisdom of a serpent and the harm- lessness of a dove. In 1884 he died in his native State, his love 'jiii;li'iiSfi F^l! v.: \'Vi ,1-1 ,7 lii I f. ! I « III 5Mh \ ■ 1- . f ■' ) , I ;5 ; 11 ■ ill;: ."!■ i ; I ■ i K?!ff€ & ,ii"> mv. '■'ni'v w. iM ##^ J.WT )j,«f 756 THE STORY OF METHODISM. for which was wonderful, which had no purer, nobler son. After twelve years, during which no Bishops were elected, David Seth Doggett was made Bishop in 1866. He was a Vir- ginian, born in 18 10, and he entered the ministry at nineteen. Having had small opportunity for education, he was appointed near the University of Virginia, and mastered its entire course. He then became chaplain and afterwards a professor at Ran- dolph Macon. In 1854 he took the editorship of the Quarterly Review and was recognized in his Church as master of rhetoric and moral science. This mastery came out in his preaching al\va)-s marked by soundncssi force and beauty. For nearly fourteen years his brethren were glaci and thankful that they had made him Bishop, His finished style and graceful delivery served as a model and his temper and manners were sweet and refresh- ing. After long suffer- ing, he in 1880, passed from this world in peace. William May Wightman, born in Charleston, South Carolina, in 1810, of sturdy English stock, (his mother had seen Wesley, and been led in class by Adam Clarke) graduated at South Carolina College, and joined Conference on his twentieth birthday. He had come into the Church under Bishop Andrew's ministry. After some years of effective preach- ing, he became professor at Randol]jh Macon, and then editor of the Soittheni Christian Advocate. He was afterwards president of Wofford College, Sparta, South Carolina. In 1854, he lacked one vote of becoming Bishop, one scattering ballot having been cast for " W. M. Bishop ! " After serving in educational work for REV. WILLIAM MAY WIGHTMAN, D. D., LL. D. Tenth Bishop of the M. E. Church South. BISHOPS OF THE M. E. CHURCH SOUTH. /3/ the interval, he was chosen Bishop in 1866, and for sixteen years made full proof of his ministry, broad, so earnest, and so spiritual that men wondered at the providence that in 1854 had shut him from the office. In 1823, Enoch Mather Marvin was born of a New Ivioland family in the wilds of Missouri. A pious, cuhured mother was the guide and teacher of his early years. He entered with scant preparation and at but eit^^hteen, the Missouri Conference. After years of hard service on frontier circuits and small stations, he suddenly appears at St. Louis as the ablest preacher of his State. Here he held his high place ably, but going South in 1862, to find the General Conference to which he was a dele- gate. He became chaplain in the Confed- erate army. After the war he went to Texas and was not a member of the General Confer- ence of 1866, which made him Bishop. He was intensely active, another Asbury, in his Episcopal work. In 1877, after a RKV. KNOCH M. MARVIN, D D. El eiuh Bishop of the M. E. Church South visit to the Missions of China and Japan, in which he made the tour of the world, he died of pneumonia at St. Louis. He wrote some valuable books. His cast of mind was mystical and his style was L!,mersonian for simplicity, clearness, pathos and elevation. Strongly marked by contrast with Marvin was Holland N. McTyeire, who .vas chosen with him to the I^^piscopate. Born in 1824, of a wealthy house in Barnwell District, South Carolina, he was at twelve a pupil at Cokesbury, the Methodist school of his State, and here he joined the Church. In 184;, he graduated at :f*=f! 'M ■■; » / D 8 THE STORY OF METHODISM. ! if. < i I Randolph Macon. Thus he was not a preacher at the separation of the Churches, yet he is now senior Bishop. How the genera- tions in Church, as well as in State, " haste stornifully " across the scene! His first prominent charge was at Mobile, and when he came, his Quarterly Conference was just buying a lot to bury preachers in ! His gift of clear and original thinking brought him to the task of editorship, and in 1854, he was put in charge of the Nc\' Orleans Christian Advocate. In 1858, he was chosen to like duties at Nashville, and these he discharged during the most trying times of the war. I le became l^ishop in 1866. The task set before his Church was then a severe one. To gather the scat- tered peoi)le and re- pair the broken shrines after years of wasting might require toil, but to manage wisely in the delicate offices of moral and churchly reconstruc- tion, while passions and prejudices were yet uncalmed, was pe- c u 1 i a r 1 y d i ffi c u 1 1 . Election to the Gen- eral Superintendency at such a time was from his brethren the highest proof of their confidence. He has shown them that they were not mistaken. Besides his gifts as preacher and man of letters, he has a clear and active grasp of ecclesiastical law and parliamentary usage, so that as Bishop and chairman of deliberative bodies he is perfectly master of his duties. In 1873, when Mr. Vanderbilt founded his university, he gave the entire charge of his donation to Bishop McTyeire, and this charge Bishop McTyeire accepted and still retains. He is also at the head of the School of Theology, and his residence is REV. HOLLAND N. McTVRIRK, D. D. Twelfth Bishop of the M. t. Church South. BISHOPS OF THE M. E, CHURCH SOUTH. 759 ; the separation ovv the gencra- illy " across the c, and when he a lot to bury ng brought him n charge of the ; chosen to Hkc the most trying )f the war. I Ic n e l^ishop i ii The task set his Church was a severe one. ither the scat- people and rc- the broken 3 after years of g might require Kit to manage in the delicate of moral and ly reco'istruc- hile passions ejudices were aimed, was pe- 1 y d i ffi c u 1 1 . n to the Gen- perintendency a time was ifidence. He sides his gifts active grasp of as Bishop and master of his his university, op McTyeire, etains. He is lis residence is at Nashville. He has moved a busy pen. iVmong his early works are, "Manual of Discipline," "Duties of Masters," and a valuable history of the M. E. Church, both before and after the separation. He is, as is perfectly fitting, the most influential man in his Church, and years of active and widening usefulness may be reasonably anticipated on his part. John Christian Keener is, in the Episcopacy of the Church South, next in seniority to Bishop McTyeire. He was born at Baltimore in 1819. ^.t nine, his father took him to W'ilbraham, and kept him ten years under the g o o d 1 }' shadow of Wilbur Eisk. During this time he graduated at the Wes- leyan University in its first regular class of 1835. His conversion was in Baltimore in 1S38. He was then prosperous in business as a wholesale druggist, but, engaging as super- intendent of a Sunday- school, he soon felt a divine call to preach. Closing up all secular pursuits, he went to Alabama, got Hcense to ^^^ ^^^^ christian keener, d. d. l)reach and, in 1843, Thirteenth Bishop of the M. E. church South. entered the Alabama Conference. Eive years later, he was sent to New Orleans, then reckoned a post not only of difficulty but of actual danger. For twenty years he was in service there, being a part of the time Presiding Elder of the New Orleans district. In 1 861 , he was made superintendent of Chaplains for the Confederate armies wes't of the Mississippi. He was editor of the New Orleans Advocate from 1866, and, in 1870, he was chosen Bishop, being then sixty-one. His. pen had not been idle. His best-known work, " The Post Oak Circuit," is a lively effort of humor, in which character is drawn with a skill equal to that of the highest masters. "T I V ; ! 'I : m Ills ||ii?i! IPS' ^i li ^ ■'■^..^ 760 THE STORY OF METHODISM. Bishop Keener has taken a deep interest in the Mexican mission of his Church, which he founded in 1873, and which he has many times visited. It is his good fortune to have three sons in the ministry, and now, in the fullness of his years, with facul- ties unfailing, to have "that which should accompany old age, as honor, love, obedience, troops of friends." John C. Granbery was 1^"^ born in Norfolk, Virginia, 1829. ■ From his taste, style and bear- ing, he may be called the scholar among the southern Bishops, After enjoying a thorough collegiate education, he entered the Virginia Con- ference, where he spent some years in the pastoral work. During the war, being chaplain of a Virginia regiment, he was wounded in the hand and lost the sight of one eye, and these scars gave him no damasjc in his friends' REV. JOHN C. GRAN13ERY. Sixteenth Bishop of the M. E. Church South. affections. On the founding of the Vanderbilt University, he entered as professor, and served ten years in Literary and Theo- logical departments. In 1878 he was chosen Bishop. His chaste and classic style of ad- dress, both in preaching and in all utterance, commands hear- ing and admiration, while his fine taste and temper make him specially dear to his brethren. Alpheus Wilson was born at Baltimore in 1834. His father, Norval Wilson, was an eminent Methodist preacher, and his son was called to follow his father's career. After graduation from college, he found his health ._! ■. VLV,;..'.'...* • REV. ALPHEUS W. WILSON, D, D. Fourteenth Bishop of the M. E. Church South. BISHUl'S 01'- THE M. E. ClILRCIl SULTII. 761 I WILSON. D. D. ^I. E. Church South. }cl to follow his tound his health REV. LINUS J'ARRER, D. D. Fifteeinh Bishop of the hi. E. Church South. failing under the labors of his early ministry. For a few years he was engaged in the legal profession, but. his health being finally restored, he resumed the ministry in the Baltimore Con- ference. After filling several important stations, he was made secretary of the Board of Mis- sions. In this office his views proved so wide, his judgment so accurate and clear, and his energies and temper so fitting to a wide sphere of action, that his brethren agreed that he \\'as of genuine "Bishop timber." In 1882 he became Bishop, and though of rather delicate health, he has been an active and successful worker. In 1886 he went to China on an official visit. The Rev. Linus Parker, D. D., fifteenth Bishop of the M. E. Church South, was one of the able men whom the North contrib- uted to the service of the .South. To the South he really hv- : longed. Me was born, in 1829, in Oneida Count}', central New York. Going, at sixteen, to \ New Orleans, in the ardor of i youthful enterprise, he was 5=" • there brought to Christ antl entered at once upon the work of the Church. In 1849 he became a member of the Louisiana Conference. In all the trying times before, during and after the war, he was stead- ily and faithfully fulfilling his ministerial call and as pastor REV. ROBERT K. HARGROVE Seventeenth Bishop of the M. E Church South. and Presiding Elder he made a goodly record. He became in 1870 editor of the AVci' Orleans Christian Advocate. 762 THE STORY OF METHODISM. ,r < J m{ ; : -^^^>^^ In iS/cS, being for the fourth time member of the General Conference, he was made Bishop. His residence was at New Orleans. He did seven years* faithful service as l^ishop. In the spring of 1883 his brain yielded to the intense exertion of years, and he died of congestion. In the city of his home, where he had so long been known in quiet and stormy times, he was mourned by all, and his much-loved Church felt her bereavement. Robert K. Hargrove was born in Alabama, in 1829, of a Methodist famil}', an- cient as antiquity is counted in this coun- try. After collegiate graduation, he spent some years in the higher grade of class- ical teaching. From teaching he entered the pastorate, in which he filled the usual va- riety of places. In 1 882, he became Bish- op, visiting Colorado this year in his official capacity and gratify- ing all by his elo- quence as preacher and his ease and dig- nity as a presiding officer. William Wallace Duncan was bom in 1839, at Randolph Macon College, his father being there a professor. His father becoming one of the faculty of Woft'ord College, South Carolina, the son graduated there in its first class in 1858. Wallace then entered the Virginia Conference, leaving, however, the pastorate for a chaplaincy in the war. In 1875, he was called to the chair of Moral Science in the college from which he graduated and took his place as leader of his Church in South Carolina. He is not only of a high and full education, but of great power REV. WILLIAM WALLACE DUNCAN, D. D. Eighteenth Bishop of the M. E. Church South. n I BISIIOI'S OF THE M. E. CHURCH SOUTH. 7O5 f the General } was at New ishop. In the rtion of years, been known in lis much-loved in 1829, of a hst famil}', an- ls antiquity is J in this coun- ^ftcr collet^iatc tion, he spent years in the grade of class- iching. I'roni ig he entered torate, in which d the usual va- )f places. In e became Bish- iting Colorado \r in his official y and gratif)'- by his elo- as preacher ease and dig- 3 a pre siding at Randolph r. His father outh Carolina^ Wallace then the pastorate called to the he graduated outh Carolina, if great power as a speaker, both in the pulpit and on the platform. His brother James was president at Randolph iMacon, and the family have a valuable social and churchly record. Being the first chosen as Bishop this year (1886), he maybe counted as bearing with him the great regard of his brethren and the hope of his people. C. B. Galloway, the youngest of southern Methodist Bishops, was born in Mississippi in 1839, and entered his office at thirty- seven. In 1868, he graduated at the University of Mississippi and began the work of the ministry in that state. His rise has been rapid, and yet not more rapid than the unfolding of his abilities. All interests of man have his at- tention, and as a temperance work- er he has been true and effective. For four years he has been editor of the New Orleans Advocate. He now enters upon his Episcopal career in the flush of his strength, and with the hopes and prayers of all his people. Eugene R. Hendrix was born, in 1847, at Fayette, Missouri, where he had his early training at Central College, of which he was president at his late election to the Episcopacy. In 1867, he graduated at the Weslc) .ui University, and in 1869 at the Theo- logical Seminary, New York, and then entered the Missouri Con- ference. His appointments have been of the highest grade, and he has been around the world in his study of the ways of men and the welfare of his Church. He has given his observations in a valuable and entertaining volume. Like his colleagues chosen m REV. C. B. GALLOWAY, D. D Nineteenth Bishop of the M. E Church South ■H 764 THE STORY OF METHODISM. J* ' I' ( IH X-' :! I \ II, 'D this year, he has d fine personal appearance and the gift of a glowing eloquence, such as has so often distinguished preachers and statesmen of the sunny South, Joseph S. Key is the fourth of the Bishops chosen in 1886 in the Church South. He is a Methodist by inheritance, his father and his grandfather having been preachers, and his line runs back to the old days of Methodist heroisms in Georgia. He was born at La Grange in that state in 1829. In 1848, he graduated at Emor\- College, and he has spent his ministerial life in the south of that state. He was a member of the Ecumenical Conference in Lon- don, 1 88 1, as a rep- resentative of his Church in the great family of Method- ism. At the Cen- tennial Conference at Baltimore, 1884, he was also a dele- gate. He alone en- ters the office of Bishop from un- broken service in the pastorate. He is a hearty worker in every form of Church labor, and is of all the Episcopal College of his Church, the most ardent advocate of the doctrine of Holiness. He is as Bishop, the youngest of the College, but his career is proving that the sacred office is still in the keeping of faithful men, who are able to teach ochers also I REV. EUGENE R HENDRIX. Twentieth Bishop of the M. E. 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(/) *^ *^ r* T. ^H 1^ JO B ? nj M r It <-. 3 a 2 n 3 p §••5 g 3 . iJ-' 3 b 3-S 3 S VO O o" in o k^ oo o <*i H ■4 ■5 a U 1 CO oo 2 tj 00 H O -s" E H P3 ^ S d. o U3 n ifl ■5 » i« c •a c •-3 .3 h^ Cfi U .« M Q .2 s. , '3j c^ c 5 s" o C3 c ^H •s i^ 1i c oo" >-> S 00 00 M S •« a o 7) M „ 1 --3- •3 * s w a 9- a- a. 00 tf s* u> S. ►* - S" ^ a c n Z n M C ^ 00 S? , 3 n R' — G 2 n^ a- r i-rt " CO ■3 w rr "o 3- 3 P a o //■' ■■■• *> B U n o .c H M 2 ^ --a i ■■3 e c/; = !; 00 5; *=! o a P3 S. JS ** ■+ ^ ■a <"• OO 4> S ■5 W3 O f» 3" -? s a p. w 3 C (^ 3 u O o - CO (J Jn' B a- H O 00 n in 03 t«M 00 00 ^1 H M s- i : ( i : ! V ' rrh ^■■i'. CHAPTER LVIII. /!» Recent Evangelists. ETHODISM is itself an evan- gelism, and the early Meth- odist preachers were evan- gelists more than anything else. The term evangelist is used in the New Testament to indicate a class of labor- ers well known and valued in the constitution of the early Church. They are shown to be a certain class of Christian teachers who were not fixed to any particular spot, but who traveled either independently or under the direction of one of the apostles for the purpose of propagating the Gospel. The absence of any detailed account of the organization and working of the early Church, at least of the first century, leaves us a little uncertain as to their functions and position. Their title, "publishers of the Glad Tidings," might belong to all the Christian minis- try, yet "evangelists" are named next after •'apostles and prophets" and before "pastors and teachers/' If, i:if : apostles were those who immediately represented Christ, prophets were those who spoke, under the special impulse of i;;» .loly Ghost, words mighty to affect men's hearts and con- sciences, then it would follow that the evangelists were in authority S'.r RECENT EVANGELISTS. /// below the apostles and in power below the prophets. Yet their office was higher and more conspicuous than that of the pastors who watched over a Church tliat had been founded, or of the teachers who carried on the work of systematic instruction. They were apparently sent forth by the apostles, as they them- selves had been sent forth by their Master, as missionary preach- ers of the Gospel preparing the way, calling congregations and founding Churches to which pastors and teachers should afterwards minister. The evangelist was then a preacher with no pastoral superintendence, and Philip "the evangelist" was the earliest of his order. A "Bishop" or pastor might be partly employed in this work, and so Timothy is told to " do the work of an evangel- ist," as occasion and opening might make it his duty. In later times the name was given to the reader of the Gospel for the da)'. It is always used of the authors of the Four Gospels. In the middle ages these evangelists were called, in England, Gospelers, and they have remained in the Church of Rome as Preaching Friars. One can easily see that the work of an evangelist was wholly that of Whitefield and more than half that of Wesley. The for- mer went from place to place not to organize, but to cry aloud ; and his career was wonderful. Wesley did the same, going free among the dead and dark of the English parishes, as the apostles and evangelists had gone to the utter heathen. Preaching was fully three-fourths of this work, but as soon as he had gained a handful of converted or even awakened hearers he formed them into a class. The classes became a societ}*, the societies were soon a circuit, the circuits were bunched into a district, and then there was a Conference. The organization was so complete that his own death gave it no shock. He was like a sea-captain at whose going overboard a mate can manage the well-trained crew. It was when the system of stations began to prevail that the evangelist and the pastor began to separate and to become two men. The modern evangelist is realh' the product of Methodism, a development of the original Methodist preacher. He first ap- peared in these earnest Churches as the Baptist and the Presbyte- rian, which have no itinerancy. He went from place to place putting forth these revival efforts which the preachers were habit- ually putting forth on their circuits, and when his peculiar gifts m i-v •j ^ ! hi^ • *■<. Hi] O. / / -s THE STORY OF METHODISM. had done their work he passed on and left the pastor to train and organize the souls whom he had broii<,dit to Christ. Thus Knapp and Swan and Moody are illustrations of the happy influence of the Methodist modes and spirit affecting the ways of other Churches, for, as we have said, not half of Methodism is in Methodist Churches. The first Methodist evangelist in th's country, as above de- fined, was Lorenzo Dow. Menti . nas already been made of him. He was so eccentric as to be counted almost insane, yet there was in his madness always this method — a burning zeal to bring men to salvation. He was born in 1777, at Coventry, Con- necticut. He began preaching at eighteen, and the next year, feeling that he had a special call to go to Ireland, he made a canoe and in it went down the Connecticut river and took ship for foreign lands. In England and Ireland, he drew great attention ; was the first, as we saw, to in- troduce the American usage of the camp-meet- nig. o For thus leaving his work he was dropped from the roll of the Con- LORENZO DOW. fercncc, and as his eccen- tricities continued he was never re-admitted. He devoted himself all the same to the work of the Gospel. Many were converted under his ministry. He never waited to be called ; he went to find the hardest places and labored in them until good results appeared. His energy was immense ; he could ride fifty miles and preach five times in a single da)-. For years he preached in the South wherever he could gather the planters and their slaves to listen. The itinerants would then gather up and organize his converts. In 1834, then a strange, venerable man with long, white beard, he came to Washington to warn the government against RECENT EVANGELISTS. •79 or to train and Thus Knapp py influence of ivays of other thodism is in % as above dc- .1 made of him. , yet there was l1 to bring men . He was born Coventry, Con- He began at eighteen, and :ar, feeling that pecial call to go 1, he made a in it went down cticut river and or foreign lands. 1 and Ireland, he attention ; was s we saw, to in- the American he camp-meet- hus leaving his was dropped oil of the Con- d as his cccen- Icvoted himself were converted cd ; he went to il good results ride fifty miles he preached in and their slaves lid organize his ,vith long, white rnment against the plans of the Church of Rome and there he suddenl}- died. Prominent among evangelists has been Dwight L. Moody. He is a product of the Methodist movement and his C(jngrega- tional Church relation has been the happier as ilhistrating the value of the Methodistic modes of \vt)rking. lie was born at Northfield, Massachusetts, in 1837. The loss of his father at "our early inspired him with a desire to be good for the sake of his mother. He was Unitarian b)- training, and in earl)' life was a healthful, joyous, fun-loving lad> to whom life was wonderfully good for its own sake. Going into business in Boston, he was there converted at seventeen. In 1856, he went to Chicago as salesman of boots and shoes. His early ef- forts for others were quickened by the ef- forts of his own Sab- bath-school teacher at Boston for the welfare of Moody's own soul. This good man had, with tears standing in his eyes, urged Moody to seek pardon and life in Christ. "Why should this man weep for me?" wondered Moody, and as the case dwight l. moodv. grew clear to him he saw behind the teacher the tears and love of the Saviour, with whose mind the teacher was in sympath\'. Moody himself now entered into that s\-mpathy. He began by bringing to Sabbath-school a class of fifteen neglected newsboys, and soon he took the work of a Sunday-school in a deserted saloon in the vilest part of Chicago. He was annoyed, and so was his handful of scholars, by rude lads, sons of low Cath- olics in the neighborhood. Going directly to the Romish Bishop, he explained to him the nature of his enterprise and set before him the needs of the half-heathen region. Something in ^,> I I.I i IT I: i^' If! it ( 'i ' i ii •80 THE STORV (J¥ METHODISM. Moody's manner and the words he used touched the Bishop's lonely- heart. The conversation was long and tender, and he thanked Moody for calling and wished an ample blessing on his enter prise. At parting, Moody proposed prayers together. The Bishop begged to be excused from vocal, extempore utterance, as it was not his usage ; but he politely knelt while Moody prayed fervently for him and the people committed to his care. The Bishop took leave of his guest with tears and the Sunday-school was annoyed no more. Mr. Moody thus began his work at the bottom and the poor heard him gladly. Soon he gave up his shoe business and de- voted his whole time to his evangelistic efforts. Men came to his help. It is under- stood that for years a merchant of Chicago bore the chief part of his personal expenses, and thus Moody saw his way clear to be- come a clergyman after the Congregational or- der. In 1876, a beau- tiful church edifice, costing one hundred thousand dollars, was finished for him in IRA D. SANKEY. Chicago. About this time he became acquainted with Ira D. Sankey, a young business man, son of a Methodist banker in Newcastle, Pennsylvania. This man had been early converted and from his very boyhood had been a leader in sacred song. No artist had ever trained him in Italian trills, but his voice was clear and pene- trating as that of a cornet, and behind his voice was a great, warm, Christian heart. A strong, flush, bright-faced man, in sympathy with his fellow men in their joys and sorrows, such a man as it was refreshing to the weary, the sad and the wrong to look upon and listen to. The two seemed made for allies to each other, and KECKXT i:van(;ki,ists. 781 the plain words of Moody and the plain songs of Sankcy were the vehicle of gracious influence to the souls of thousands. After extensive services in Chicago, they went, in 1S73, to Europe. In the very centers of Christianity their success proved that the work of an evangelist is to-day a lawful need of the Church, and that they were called to it by the Holy Ghost. In Dublin, their meet- ings were largely attended by those least affected b>- regular minis- trations of the Word, and two thousand were brought to Christ. In London, the capital city of the W(M-ld, the center of its sin and sorrow as well as of its wealth and power, its piety ami truth, the two evangelists held meetings four months. During this time two hundred and fifty thousand people attended their meetings and seven thousand were converted. "They shall fear the Lord from the West." It was strange, but not unexampled, that fresh thought and energy should enter the old home, the heart of the modern world. Seven thousand are few among four millions in that great human hive, but of themselves they are man>', and the Churches were quickened and refreshed. In Edinburgh, the cautious, well-doctrinated Scotch heard gladly the fresh and stirring appeal, and three thousand from the Moody meetings joined the various Churches. The evangelists visited Oxford, the birthplace t)f the Methodist movement near a century and a half before. The effect there was about the same as elsewhere. "Townsmen and gownsmen" (i. e., students) at- tended with the greatest interest and man\- were converted. The students thus brought to Christ are n(nv represented among the missionaries in China and elsewhere, and are Christians in many callings through the wide British dominions. In Sheffield and other English towns, equal attention was drawn to the Gospel, and thousands were brought to accept it. How many were converted during these two years of labor abroad is neither possible nor important to sa}-, but all pastors of the places visited found that the grace that came with the evangelists did not go with them. The revival was genuine and its fruit remained. On Moody's return to Chicago, a Tabernacle holding ten thousand was built and in this, continuous services were held for three months, and forty-eight hundred were converted. After a like manner meetings have been held in many other of our large 'm TT N I I 782 THE STUKV Ul<' METHODISM. 1 I m cities. At prr-scnt, Mr. Moody is ^ivini; his time to schools that he has built in his early home at Northfiekl, He has turned three hundred acres of barren land into smiling fields, and here he has a Christian school for girls, and at Mt. iiermon, four miles away, he has another for boys. These are meant for the education of those who can do little for themselves, and are largely charitable. They are flourishing and indicate the turn of his mind towards the future and permanent welfare of his race as well as to immediate evangelization. In the vacation of his Northfiekl school, Moody gathers to its vacant rooms a large attendance for Bible study. He himself presides, but he has for helpers men of genius and learning in the Scriptures. Most of those in the gathering are evangelists like himself, weary in mind and body, from labors in various parts of the land, " faint, yet pursuing." Sankey and other singers likewise attend. Fifteen hundred are sometimes present and three daily sessions arc held. Questions are freely asked and the Word of God is opened for the help and use of these recruiting evangelists and all who come to the Bible Summer School, some of whom are from foreign lands, nor could it be told, except from the register, to what denominations they severally belong. Of late years, some women have been raised up, whose gifts have done good service in the work of evangelists. We have told of the good women who aided by prayer and counsel and sacrifice the early Methodist movement. These were such as Lady Huntingdon, Lady Maxwell, Mrs. Fletcher and Mrs. Murray, Mrs Rogers and the Dairyman's Daughter. It grew steadily in Wesley's mind that there was room in the Church for womanly appeal and discourse, and he looked forward to a day when it would be called out. Toward the ':nd of his life he wrote : " It has long passed for a maxim with muny that women are only to be seen and not heard, and, accoruiugly, many are brought up in such a manner, as if they were only designed for playthings. But is this doing honor to the sex, or is it a real kindness to them? No; it is the deepest unkindness. It is horrid cruelty. It is mere Turkish barbarity, and I know not how any woman of sense can submit to it." Dr. Adam Clarke had said: "A cock reproved Peter and an ass reproved Balaam, and why may not a woman reprove sin?" The time was dawning when w^oman's gift M^ RECENT EVANH.KLIsrs. 7^5 to schools that las turned three .uu\ here he has bur miles away, he education of ■gely charitable, lind towards the as to immediate oody gathers to ly. He himself d learning in the evangelists like various parts of • singers likewise and three daily nd the Word of liting evangelists me of whom are •om the register, I up, whose gifts lists. We have md counsel and ie were such as cher and Mrs. ghter. It grew the Church for arward to a day lis life he wrote : women are only are brought up for playthings. real kindness to horrid cruelty. V any woman of aid: "A cock why may not a en woman's gift of speech was to be put to service beyond even such as the more private social meetings afforded. The first Methodist woman licensed to preach, and thus for full evangelistic service, was Mrs. Maggie \'an CoU. .She was born in New York, in 1H30. Her training was strictl)- I'.piscopa- lian. The loss of a daughtrr and tlic failun- of her husband's health, which threw upon her the care of his business and estate, burdened her soul with labor and sorrow. Siie liad in chiUlhood lived within hearing of a Methodist Church, and iiail felt drawn by its singing and pray- ers, but had never been present at ce of the meetings. Turning now with all her heart to her Heavenly Father for help and guidance, she began to attend a Meth- odist prayer-meeting. Being gifted as a singer, she was invited to come to the class-meeting, be- ing assured that she need not speak unless she chose. She found her tongue and gave testi- mony for the grace that was helping her, and soon she joined the Church. Her first efforts were at the Five Points. In this sink and lowest drainage of the crime and misery of the city, good women had been working since 1848 to change a pest-house of sin into a school of virtue, and to do this every form of Christian effort was utilized. Here Mrs. Van Cott aided the work to the utmost of her power. For twenty months she did earnest service among the colored people of Baxter street. In 1866, being on a visit at Durham, New York, she made by invitation what might be called her first public address in a school-house. She followed with others, and many conversions Mrs. MAtJGIE VAN COTT. i i: ^Mi iit,i', ,H ' ' 784 THE STORY OF METHODISM. i 1 I 4) I : ii ij - Si? if.. i-* ■ "1 *, ' M ' seemed to give her efforts the divine endorsement. Under grow- ing conviction she, in 1868, obtained, not without some opposi- tion arising, not from her character, but from the novelty of the case, at Springfield, Massachusetts, a local preacher's license, and henceforth gave herself wholly to evangelistic work. In her first year of itineran»'^y, she numbered five hundred souls brought to Christ and gathered into the various Churches. In about twenty years her record has been the same. She has the stature and bearing of a queen, and a voice of strength ,^sa»--^ FIVE POINTS MISSION, NEW YORK. and sweetness, such personal gifts as impress and control an audi- ence, and her word has alwavs been attended with excellency of power. She has held meetings, of which her variety is great, in nearly every state in the Union Encouraged by her example, other women have been free to use their gifts and some have even excelled her in power of address. The woman's movement in temperance during its twelve years of activity has brought into notice many able speakers. Some of these have come to have a national and even an European fame. m RECENT EVANULLlbi'S. 7^5 Of them all, Miss Frances K. Willard is foremost. She is a native of Rochester, New York, but was reared in Wisconsin. 1 Icr education proceeded in the Woman's Collci;e of the Xorthwestcrn University. On the death of a sislcr at nineteen, she wrote "Nineteen Beautiful Years," the most charmiuL;- bioi^rapliy in the English language. She was, after graduation, engaged in teacli- ing at various places, and, after serving as secretar}- of tlie asso- ciation that built Heck Hall for the School of Theolog)-, at Iwanston, she spent two and a half years abroad. Tn 1871. she became presi- dent of the college where she gradu- ated, and after two years was called to the Department of /Estheti-s in the University. At this time the crusade of women a g a i n s t Ml'^.^ i'KANv 1> 1:. Wll I, \kl) whisky began, and she quickly came to the front of it. In 1S76, the \'vomen most prominent in ihe temperance work n.et at Chau- taut[u I and formed .1 National Union for the better pro- motion of their cause. Aliss W illard was made [jrcsiilenl, and has now served ten cnergi^tir and effective \'ears. Since the dcalli of Wendell Phillips, she is the finest orato'* in An^ 'oa. and her \-oice ha.s been the most effectual of all \oices in br:.;ging to its present forwardness this one intense concern of the nation and century. As representative of the Methodist Mpisco[>al Church, she lias good backing. The rules of th': Church are abreast of the time. No niemlier can sign a petition for license or own [)remises where liquor is sold, and it is only b)- a dodge that the Methodist mayor of Brooklyn makes his peculiar record. The 50 ! 1 .!. .* h'l 786 THE STORY OF METHODISM. Methodist Episcopal Church and all Methodist Churches are sound on temperance, and Miss Willard is the product of generations of sentiment and practice. Other evangehsts have risen up within the proper bounds of Methodism, laboring in given places a longer or shorter time, as the local pastors may desire. One of these, perhaps the most truly representative man of the class, is Thomas Plarrison. He is a native of Boston, born in 1854. He was converted in the end of 1869, just in time to enter 1870 in newness of life. He began the study for the ministry, at first in the Wilbraham Academy and then at Talmage's "Lay College " in Brooklyn. During the Decem- ber vacation of this col- lege he went home, and also to Long Plain, where a friend was conducting a revival. They together sought and found such power from on high as filled the hearts and moved the tongues of those early preachers, of whom our Story told nearer its beginning. This power was straightway felt by the congregation, and a month of effectual, fervent revival followed. The next fall he engaged in evangelistic work in Baltimore. In the various Churches he spent most of the winter. What the result may have been it is not -easy to say, but it is clear that more than one thousand were brought to Christ. The attention of the Church was now fully directed upon him. He was still so young as to be ciilled by the unhappy title, "The Boy Preacher," but the silly epithet in time wore away. Of slight personal figure, he was active, nervous and graceful, with much in him that attracts and conciliates, sometimes called REV. THOMAS HARRISON. RECENT EVAXCIELISTS. 787 personal magnetism. His eyesight is keen ; no movement in any part of a great congregation escapes him. His wit is ready; he knows, as if by instinct, how to answer a question, how to encour- age a movement and how to quell a disorder. Yet he is immensely inferior to what he is doing. No wit, or wisdom, or speech of his is equal to what is done in his presence. He is himself but a means, an instrument. Yet he is an effective instrument. In Baltimore, only three per cent, of the converts fell away, and the flame of revival bu/ned steady and unflickering long after he had left the city. While he was at Madison Square, Mr. Moody was holding meetings not far away. The meetings of both were crowded. The styles of the two evangelists differed enough to draw somewhat different classes, but with their diversity of gifts there was the same spirit, and it was happy for the town that had such double visitation. He passed on to assist the pastors in the Dis- trict of Columbia. At Foundry Church the crowds could by no means get admittance, and in forty evenings perhaps four hundred were awakened and more than half joined that Church as con- verts. In Georgetown, and again in Washington, at the Hamlinc Ciiurch, the same power and the same style of result were wit- nessed. The evangelist was the honored vehicle chosen of (Jrod to affect hearts long in contact with Christianity, but never as yet yielding to its claims. In all, probably one thousand souls were awakened in the District. After labors almost unbroken in smaller towns and in camp-meetings from Martha's Vineyard, Massachusetts, to Loveland, near Cincinnati, Harrison went to Pbiiaiiciphia. Here at Wharton Street Church, over one thou- -an;! ',.ere converted. There was a large proportion of mature mcM .uiiong these converts, and the best classes of the city were moveJ. At times three to five hundred men would be at the door unable to enter, and one day the house was given up to an all- lay service and thronged from ten A. M. to ten V. M. This (1379) was followed by a meeting at Talmage's Tabernacle in Brooklyn. At the first day's service one hundred rose for prayers, 'nd afterwards four hundred and sixteen joined the Church in one oa> , and on another day two hundred and forty. Many united elsewhere, so that it is not easy to say how many were actually subjects of grace during the seven weeks of the meeting. ^ 'im wn irftiii t i tii il l'|!^ »■■ ■ K glH|f ' £ ^ ^fS]^'' ^ ^ "' wPpi ' V Ip'i ,■ i' tijp. ,!' ' H^^' BftK"'*' 1 ro^' ■' ,. K- • '' i V 788 THE STORY OF METHODISM. In the fall of 1880, he held a meeting at Scott Methodist Episcopal Church, Philadelphia, under tr3'ing circumstances. It was the year of the presidential election, and a Republican "Wigwam" was a block and a half from the Church. And there were torchlight processions and brass bands and the tumult of the people. The meeting prospered. It was once held in the Wigwam with three thousand present, and in a few weeks three hundred were added to the Church. Mr. Harrison had now been preaching four years, and fifteen thousand souls had come to the Saviour in his meetings. He had proved two things: One was that in the most cultivated Christian, among the ablest pastors and amplest Church resources, the work of an evangelist has its place, It helps, not hurts, the regular ministrations. Another thing proved is that the He ' of the Church chooses His own instru- ments. The wisdom of ! would not have chosen Harrison but he was chosen and the .conversion of men under his labors was by the Power that made choice of him. So it was in the beginning, is now and will ever be. Leaving Philadelphia, Harri- son now went to Meriden, Connecticut. It is a fine inland cit}-, where in earlier days Methodism hung chiefly on one able and faithful family, the Parkers. The church edifice there was about the finest in the state. It was awaiting the pillar and the cloud of the Divine Presence. It was now divinely accepted indeed. In four weeks three hundred professed conversion and the work can hardl\- yet, after five years, be said to have ceased. Perhaps it never will. At the end of March, 1881, Harrison went to Indianapolis, asking that a thousand souls might there be brought to the Saviour. The Roberts Park Church, named from a Bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church, holds two thousand and is the finest in the state. Here the meetings began and it was immedi- ately crowded. In five weeks over five hundred professed con- version. Revival services were then opened in fifteen other churches of the city, and the whole town was shaken. Talmage came from Brookl)-n to cheer his pupil and testified, in aid of public confidence, that to his knowledge not one of those wlm had joined bis Church from Harrison's meetings had fallen away, that by their help over three hundred had since been brought in. By June 13th, a little more than two months, the conversions in the Roberts Park Church were ten hundred and eighty-nine cind X' KECliNT EVAMiKLlSTS. 789 Scott Methodist cumstanccs. It J a Republican rch. And there id the tuniuh ol" )nce held in the few weeks three ^n had now been had come to the lings : One was blest pastors and list has its place, Anothc thing His own instru- chosen Harrison under his labors So it was in the iladelphia, Harri- i fine inland city, on one able and lere was about the 1 the cloud of the indeed. In four work can hardly aps it never will, to Indianapolis, brought to the 1 a Bishop of the sand and is the d it was immedi- d professed con- in fifteen other laken. Talniage :stified, in aid of nc of those who had fallen away, been brought in. le conversions in 1 eighty-nine and in the whole city more than twice as man)' were reported. The cftect on the temper and character of the city was immense. Kvcvy Christian communion was enlarged. Church debts were paid. "The Beloved came forth into His garden," and gladness and strength came upon all Christian people. After a meeting in San Francisco, at which four hundred professed conversions, Harrison went to Cincinnati. In this great city sin has long thriven, and one might on a Sunday doubt if he were in a Christian town. At least three thousand salot)ns are open every day and night of the week. Ingersoll had here his largest gatherings of men, furious to tear the Christian religion out of the land, and, like Chicago, the city seemed to get and re- tain the worst of foreign elements. Fifty years before, John X. Maffitt, an evangelist of brief but effect: /e working, whose light seemed at last to go out in darkncs.-,, had held services here in which eight hundred had been added to the Church. Times were harder now. In January, 1882, meetings were opened at St. Paul's Methodi.st Episcopal Church, of which I. \V. Joyce, now Bishop, was pastor. In two weeks two hundred and seventeen professed conversion at the altar, besides others known to have been con- verted elsewhere. So great were the crowds that it was then neces- sary to open services at other churches, both Methodist and others. At the Wesleyan Female College the school exercises were sus- pended for a day and of the graduating class of twenty-two, twenty were converted. Some incidents were remarkable. Gray- haired infidels were converted. A mother with her eight children were subjects of grace. Many Catholics, coming from curiosity, were arrested and drawn to seek peace with (lod through Christ alone. People already members of Churches now first found salvation. Before the revival services closed thirteen hundred and seventy-three professed conversion at the altar. "Behold, I make all things new! " P2very Church in Cincinnati felt the blessmg of larger life, and good men rose up with fresh courage to their combat with the ruler of the darkness of this world. In six vears this man must have been the visible means of bringing to Christ twenty thousand souls. His labors went on. In April, 1883, he was in Decatur, Illinois, rejoicing over two thousand souls brought into the Kingdom of God. Strange to say, eight hundred of these were from other places and had to come to i 111 1 1 1 lit ,r^i ,' lii !■' .= 1 1 1 r- : 1 [' ^i 1 !'■ t 1 i. i f ■' 'it ' \ '' ' ; t 111 Ml i^ rl ?». i 790 T!:K STORV OK METHODISM. Decatur from thirteen different states to share the season of grace. And these, taking home the good here found, were able to help the cause of Christ in many and various regions. In the same year, Harrison saw one thousand come to seek the Saviour at Danville. Illinois, and about the same number at Rockford. It is not our plan to follow all his later labors, but only to set forth the REV. SAM p. JONES, man. His career is so different from Moody's, and yet so attended with gracious power, that it is well to look at them both. From both has gone out a power that proves how lawful and necessary is their calling. The numbers gathered under their eye are hardly more than half the whole number blessed in their work. The Methodist h^piscopal Church South has more recently sent an effective laborer into the evangelical work. Sam P. Jones RECENT EVAXLiELISTS. 791 was born, in 1846, in Alabama, but was reared and educated in Cartcrsville, Georgia. His education, like that of so many of his generation, was interrupted by the tread of armies, so that lie cannot be called an educated man. In 1S72, he was converted and at once began to preach, and soon entered upon a circuit. His home was in the North Georgia Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church South, and the Van Wert Circuit was his first field of labor. After eight years of service on circuits, he felt himself distinctly called to the work of an evangelist, and, in 1880, he began to follow his calling. The result of six years' labor is held to justify his impression that he is thrust out, like a herald, to call men with the Gospel call. Others may be called to in- struct, to build up and shcpherdize, but he is let loose from local work and set to go before the pastor and the teacher, and get them souls to feed and teach. Early in this year he was for some weeks in Cincinnati. He had before this held meetings in the chief cities of the South, and always with great success. In Cin- cinnati he was to find new helps and new hindrances. His helps were in a spiritual and intelligent bodv of pastors and a people already deeply affected by Harrison's labors. His hindrances were from the very fact of Harrison's success, which had set very high the standard of revival effort, so that they who had resisted Harrison's appeal would give little hearing to the average preacher. Jones began his meetings in Trinity Methodist I'2piscopal Church. He is of slight figure, of average height, of plain, rather classic features under heavy, black hair. He has no grace of orator)-, and ignores the arts by which the gold of speech is serxed in comely baskets of silver. Moody himself is not more plain, direct and earnest. In language, the Doric, as a (}'-eek would sa\', is his born and chosen dialect — straight, rude and vigorous. It is queer that often what is called Jones' slang, is the pure Anglo- Saxon, the English of one thousand years ago, and how it should re-appear in him is matter for a philologist to study. In his dis- course his moods arc ever shifting, as Gough'swere shifting. lie holds that every emotion of which men are capable should be made to serv^c in bringing them to salvation, and he never limits liimself to the understood decorum of the pulpit. To him, man is a being of vast and various susceptibilities, and he believes that the time to laugh and the time to weep, the time to love and p^ 79 J THE STORY OF METHODISM. :» ii^! 1 ) ! ' ; \ V fi .; ' ! ■■ ;; . ■' 4 f] ^ i ?!'■ • ■•; ri ' u m-w I ■= HMi I"): the time to hate, all come lawfully within the limits of one discourse. So he in Music Hall, with its thousands before him, seemed to control the emotion of them all as, in the same place, Theodore Thomas, in a i^rand choral, had with his wand controlled hun- dreds of instruments and thousands of voices, from the <:iant- voiced organ to the softest alto, of whose presence he alone seemed aware. Jones touched every person, and "all passions, in their frames of clay, came thronging at his call." The church at Cincinnati proved within a week, too small by half for the crowds that pressed to hear him. The services were then transferred to Music Hall, which seats six thousand, and that, too, was soon just as much too small. There he stood, plain and earnest, but in his hands the Gospel indeed became a trumpet, whence he blew new and stirring tones. At his last service, which was to begin at 7 :30 P. M., the Hall at 6:30, was packed with eight thousand people, and perhaps as many were at the door in vain. During his stay of a month in the city, two hundred thousand heard him preach, and all were impressed with new and effective views of the Gospel. All Churches united in his work, and all gathered members from converts at his meetings. He is, in the course of the )'ear, preaching to more people than any man in this country. His fearless, earnest way of hold- ing the mirror up to the people, so that they sec, each his own image, and all see the course of society, and the divine mind and judgment, deeply impresses even those who are the least inclined to reform. Should his strength be spared, he will in the coming- twenty years be, far and wide, a help to the Church and a reformer in the land. Sam Small (strangely undignified name, this "Sam," but that is the whole of it!) was a man of talent and of education, position and prosperity, but was going rapidly, by whisky, to shame and ruin. He w^ent from his home in Atlanta to Carters- ville, to hear Jones preach, hardly knowing how he was minded to go. There he was forcibly impressed with ideas of deliverance, even from whisky, which the Great Deliverer brings, On his re- turn, he found such deliverance, after hours of agony in prayer, and then scattered three thousand handbills through Atlanta, in- viting all to come and hear the story of his deliverance. His RHCKN r r.VAXCKI.ISIS. 793 ; limits of one )re him, seemed place, Theodore controlled hun- from the <,nant- sence he alone d "all passions, -'k, too small by lie services were thousand, and 1iere he stood, idecd became a s. At his last all at 6:30, was IS many were at in the city, two impressed with rches united in at his meetings, more people way of hold- each his own ivine mind and least inclined in the coming and a reformer is "Sam," but of education, by whisky, to ita to Carters- le was minded f deliverance, s, On his re- ny in prayer, h Atlanta, in- ^erance. His life has since been given to labors for his race. He sees prohibi- tion ruling in Atlanta and in most of the counties of his state. As an evangelist, he has far more culture than Jones and equal earnestness, but lacks the rude energy and ihe completeness of sympathy with our many-sided human nature that makes Jones a man of special power. Yet he is called to the same great work, and the hope of his calling is tluis far well known. REV. SAM SMALL. There are manv other evangelists working under the name of Methodism, and many working in its spirit and after its usages by other names, all good and effectual, but of these our story need not tell. These alread)' introduced are men and women repre- sentative of evangelism and, being most prominent, they are such as may best be put on ])ermanent record. .4 PT^ if ' I i is I in [ I :!. ! * , 11' I f'rMA li^'^ve been' the richest of fishing grounds, and ^\1<|nj ^ now art is restoring the fish suppl}' v ;i'c.\ greed <^.^ii;V:;j has short-sightedly damaged. ^'^iV Along the northwest shore of this lake, in /V.^f? 1864, some Met'-odist preachers were sailing in /]\ \ y ' a canoe to look for a camp meeting ground. They chose fifty acres of forest, then worth twenty dollars an acre, and for some years an annual camp meeting was held there. It is so beautiful a situation that generations will long be glad that the preachers in the rude canoe chose wiser than they 796 llll'; sroRV OK METHODISM. i thouij;lit, and secured for sacred society and pro^rrcss the best place in America. The area has been many times enhirged and now contains a scpiare mile and more. There is a cit)' with im- mense hotels, with pidilic lniildini;s ami)le for a university, with cottages in every st\le and (lualit}' along its avenues, and with every summer charm that shade and water have. The summer l)opul;ition may reach twenty thousand ; the winter stayers may count one thousand. This is the home and center of the Chautauqua idea. John ! f; • '! 1 ; ■fl' ::':'- .:P' VIEW ON CHAUTAUQVA LAKE. H. Vincent was born in Alabama, in 1832. He was educated at the North, and in 1853 joined the New Jersey Conference, and in 1856 he WMS transferred to the Rock River. His attention was early called to Sunday-school work, and soon his tastes for it were formed and it became his favorite and most successful form of labor. He spared no pains to fit himself for such work, going to Palestine to gain vivid and effective impressions, making the acquaintance of successful workers and searching out improve- ments in all working methods. In 1865 he was made general ( llAU lAL' »L A. 797 ;rfss tlic bi'st ciilari,^c(l aiul cit\' with iir.- lix'crsity, uith IKS, ami ^\ith 'I'lic suninicr .sta)-(jrs may n idea. John =; educated at srencc, and in attention was . tastes for it ccessful form li work, goint^ ;, making the out improve- made general agent of the Sunday-school Union of the M. !•:. Church, and. in l facility, really a genius, for devising names that, for their fitness and convenience, take, without argument, and he gave to his new uniform lessons the name of " The Berean Series." It came from those Bereans who are noted in the Acts ay " more noble" than those of Thcssalonica, chiefly in that they searched the Scripture daily. The lessons were accompanied with skillful markings to arrest the attention. D was for Dates, Doctrines, Duties ; P, for Persons, Places, and that sort of thing, and brief comments were given, with illustrative picture, etc. Thus Sunday-school instruction was put alongside of the best secular instruction in matter of scientific methods and facilities. The Church journals were soon publishing weekly expositions of the lessons, a column, usually as readable and as much read as any other. While this was proceeding in the M. K, Church, the Sunday-school people of other Churches were looking on with growing attention. They were inxited to take part in the work and soon they were active helpers and patrons of the progress. The Berean Series was, in 1873, discussed by a congress of all, or nearly all, Protestant Churches and made International. By that name it is henceforth known. Annually, two years in advance of the year in which the lessons are to be actually. used, a lesson committee, made up from the Churches of this country, Canada and England, meets and determines the forty-eight lessons which, with the reviews, occupy the Sundays of the pleasant and various year. The system )T.as such and so many advantages that it has clearly come to stay as a feature of the Sunday-school ii) !(«' f 8oo THE STORY OF METHODISM. ^ 'I a I 'li :- system of the world. Its uniformity is charming. A stranger entering a Church service is not sure of the text from which he may hear a sermon, but wherever he enters a Sanday-school he knows the lesson. On a given Lord's D?y, the International Lesson, following the sun and keeping time with the hours, circles the world, and there is now hardly a speech or a language where its verses are not read or learned, explained and enforced. The plan was adopted of holding, at some convenient place, a pro- tracted Sunday-school Institute, at which the exercises should be broad like the Interna- tional Lessons, like the Sacred S'' 'pture itself. Mr. Vincent found his first helper ir. .ewis Miller, of Akron, Ohio. This man had come up by his own wise, devout, ; generous and energetic effort, from humble ori- gin to the front rank of business men, of active Christians and good citi- zens. His time, his counsel and his money were freely put to the backing of V i n c c n t's ideas, and to him more than to any other than LEWIS MILLER. . i • ., • , n • . their author is due their success. These gentlemen chose the Chautauqua Camp-meeting Ground as the place for their Assembly, and here, in 1874, the first Sunday-school Assembly was held. Every resource and appliance then attainable was brought into service, and men and women of the largest ability and experience. The effort to bring Sunday- school work to its highest excellence was vigorously made, and the result was cheerful and assuring. The declared purpose was the improvement of methods of biblical instruction in the Sunday- school and the family. Here was to be a Bible-school, and the ideal adopted from the beginning has not been changed, but only CHAUTAUQUA. 8oi g. A strariijer steadily unfolded for now these fourteen years. It has of course, been found that the wide, deep study of the Bible leads to the study of most other things, as from the Golden Milestone in the Roman Forum went roads to all the provinces. The Assembly began as a Methodist Episcopal effort, being suggested and put in operation by Methodists, but, like that camp-meeting of vhich we told, began by Presbyterians, in 1799, on the Red river, Ky., the first camp-meeting on record, it was no more the plan to shut the Assembly to Methodists than to limit to them the Bible itself It was meant for mankind and it soon gained wide attention. Soon after the endorsement of the move- ment by the managers of the Sunday-school Union of the M, E. Church, the following resolution was sent out to the world : " Whereas this course of study is in substantial agreement with that adopted by the normal departments of the Baptist, Presby- terian and American Sunday-school Union Boards, and as the leading workers in these and other branches of the Christian Church will be at the Assembly to assist by their experience and counsels, and, as it is our purpose to make the occasion one of the largest catholicity, the committee cordially invite workers of all denominations to attend and to participate in the services of the Assembly." This invitation was taken in the spirit in which it was given, and the Assembly soon became the most truly cath- ol.c institute in the world. In its general work the lines of de- nominations vanished and the movement was seamless as the Saviour's robe. Still every represented Communion has its own home and its own exercises. Many of these have their own buildings and each on arriving registers himself with his own people, and on Wed- nesday evenings each Church has its own separate meetings for conference and prayer. Thus the gathered flocks are at rest in one fold and under one Shepherd, and they go in and out and find pasture. At times fifteen different denominations, almost every one known in Protestantism, have been counted in attendance. On various occasions the doctrines and practices have been stated by representative men, and ihe grounds and reasons thereof frankly and fully stated without reply or debate, and large audiences hav- given the most kindly and attentive hearing, and have felt SI k^ ■ I •. m ' 802 THE STORY OF METHODISM. all the stronger in the deep love that binds believing hearts. At Chautauqua, as we saw in China, all communions meet as, to our vision, parallel lines meet on the starry surface of the sky. The central institute thus planted at Chautauqua, like a tree by generous streams, went on to grow and put forth its branches. Of these, the one of largest spread is the Chautauqua Liter- ary and Scientific Circle, usually known by its initials as the C. L. S. C. (Once in a century these letters may mislead. In a town near Chautauqua lived Ella See. "Where is Dr. F. ?" asked a pa- rishioner one evening. •' Gone to C. L. S. C," said Mrs. F. "Why, is she sick?" came out anxiously.) This is a company of readers pledged to a wide range of literature. Its aim, as set forth at its organization, August 10, 1878, is to promote habits of study and reading in connection with the routine of daily life, especially that those whose educational ad- vantages have been lim- ited may gain a student's outlook upon life and REV. LUCIUS H. BUGBEE, D.D. upou the world, and may develop the habit of close, persistent thinking. That it was not to be confined to the uneducated is shown by the fact that the first graduate in its course of study was the Rev. Dr. Lucius H. Bugbee, a graduate of Amherst College, an experienced educator and, at the time, president of Allegheny College, Meadville, Pa. The C. L. S. C. proved by its progress that it met and satisfied a real want. It gathered its members from every class of society. Several were over eighty at their joining, as old as Plato when he learned to play the flute to aid in resisting the ravages of old age. Those n'ho had more time mmm CHAUTAUQUA. H03 g hearts. At neet as, to our he sky. \ua., like a tree h its branches, utauqua Liter- ils as the C. L. ad. In a town .?" asked a pa- one evening, o C. L. S. C, rs. F. "Why, ick?" came out y.) s is a company rs pledged to a ige of literature, as set forth at lization, August ?, is to promote of study and in connection routine of daily cially that those iducational ad- have been lim- gain a student's upon life and world, and may cated is shown study was the rst College, an t of Allegheny by its progress 2d its members eighty at their the flute to aid had more time than business, or more business than time, found solace and profit in its studies. The theory of the circle is simple. Its first principle is that the basis of education is religious, and that when education is rightly begun all life should be its school. That learning has no favored classes; the humble home and the lowly calling, as the classic Horace sang long ago, may claim and have its elevating, re- fining influence. Nor is education limited to the school period and to early life. Business, care and experience serve to strengthen the intellect, and, if this be well directed, the attainments of maturer years, and to this may be added the fact that those whose early advantages were small have afterwards the stimulus of an exalted view of learning and an intense craving to obtain it. These can, with good guidance and encouraging assurance, achieve, in a di- rection so desirable, results solid and gratifying. Its work, based upon these propositions, is done partly at Chautauqua and other assemblies, where for a few weeks in the summer instruction is given by lectures and class exercises. For those who cannot be present at these assemblies, provision is made for study by correspondence. Lessons are given and examinations are made, and after satisfactory processes the diplomas are issued. Finally, those who can use neither of these methods may have direction in such reading and study as they can accomplish, and by duly reporting to headquarters obtain credit for work actually achieved. The usual method is to organize in a given precinct a circle with an efficient chairman, able to comfort, counsel and command, and to have monthly meetings for review and inspection for the statement and removal of difficulties, and for social entertainment and inspiration. Where the number is such that the expense is little, lectures are had on matters relating to the course. It is not to be expected that all these students w'U be pro- found and exhaustive in their work, but they who master their studies even defectively get well paid for their eff'orts. They gather ideas, they come into wider sympathy with truth, they breathe a higher atmosphere, as the result of even imperfect eff'orts. The course in this "school out of school" embraces science, history and literature. Graduation in it corresponds to gradua- tion in college. It means that certain lines of study so important v ! !;t ,*i ;■. \\'l\! ^W^' •f - 804 THE STORY OF METHODISM. as to be fixed and based are completed, and that henceforth the student or reader is to exercise his own choice. On the diploma are thirty-one blank spaces and there are as many courses of read- ing provided. When one of these courses is completed, a seal is stamped upon one of these spaces. These are enough for an aver- age lifetime. About eighty-four hundred names were, in 1878, enrolled for the class aiming to graduate in 1882. When their Commence- ment (called their "Recognition Day") came around on August 12, 1882, seventeen hundred and eighteen received the diploma. Of these, about eight hundred were present, and the order of the day was made noble and impressive. Over one hundred thousand names are now enrolled in this circle. There are six local circles in Japan, containing more than one thousand members, coming from every rank of society. There are judges, lawyers, government officials, as well as soldiers, etc., with many ladies. In South Africa is a circle with an attendance of three hundred. Russia has a circle of three hundred and forty-four, and there is one in Hawaii. For those who can hardly take the C. L. S. C. course, but are desirous of doing something, there has been framed " The Chau- tauqua Book-a-month Reading Circle." It offers thirty-six vol- umes, one a month for three years, being about sixteen pages a day. These volumes are selected from a wide range in the vari- ous departments of literature^ history, biography, essays, travel and historical romance. In the same connection is also "The Chautauqua Musical Reading Club," adapted in one line to prac- tical musicians and in the other to lovers of music. A "Young Folks Reading Union" (everything begins with "Chautauqua") follows these just named, and a "Town and Coun- try Club," framed to encourage the young to keep their eyes and ears open for all things in art and nature, to make record and report the same, is also in existence. There is, too, a Society of Fine Arts. Rising above these is the College of Liberal Arts — i. e., a real college with thorough courses of study. This is the "college outlook" from the C. L. S. C. It is a non-resident college, and that is, at best, a disadvantage. Nothing can make good the loss of daily drill under a master's eye and voice, and the personal CHAUTAUQUA. 805 force of his presence. Recitation and guidance is the next best, and to many it is the only thing within reach. The studies are by no means without a master, and guidance at long range is sometimes quite effectual. It certainly tends to make the student self-reliant and impels him to do for himself the best he can and to do it sincerely. Certainly there are none in such a college but those who, in good faith, desire and intend to learn. The examinations are in writing and in the presence of com- petent and watchful committees, and their papers receive as much PHILOSOPHY HALL, CHAUTAUQUA. consideration as at Oxford or Cambridge. The defects of the study by correspondence are partly balanced by a certain inde- pendence, accuracj' and continuance of attention necessary for writing. This college and this system of study are not designed for those who can do better, but for those who can get collegiate education in no other way. This College of Liberal Arts is a part of the general educa- tional enterprise organized at the Chautauqua UnivxTsity, but called by the simple name CJiautauqna, Dr. Vincent being its chancellor. There is also in the University a school of Theology. In this, as in the College Arts, the work is done at the homes of the students, attendance at Chautauqua being not a necessity, but rather a recreation and an encouragement. Of this School of Theology there are two departments, one of drill and one of 8o6 THE STORY OF METHODISM. rJr resource. In the first are severe studies of Hebrew, Hellenistic Greek, and some Latin. For these there are summer schools in July, at which one may get initiatory instruction and helps by the way. In doctrine the students are directed by theologians of their own Churches and are examined by the same, so that each is in the care of his own brethren. The course in the first department has quite a range of history and science and criticism. More than tour hundred men, most of whom are already engaged in preach- ing, are at work in this department. The other department of the Theological School has the im- posing name of "The Jerusalem Chamber." This was taken from that room in Westminster Abbey, where seven hundred years ago were hung ample tapestries, illustrating the conquest of Jerusalem by the Crusaders, where one still reads, "O pray for the peace of Jerusalem;" "Build thou the walls of Jerusalem ;" "Jerusalem which is above is free." Here were framed the Book of Common Prayer of the Episcopal Church and the Westminster Confession and Catechism of the Presbyterians, and here, not long ago, the Revised Translation of the Bible was made. This historic name has been given to the department which offers resources without requiring study, or, at least, examination. All actual clergymen, missionaries and the like, becoming members, receive all docu- ments, publications, and every help which the department can give. There is a Chautauqua literature — a Chautauqua monthly and several minor periodicals, a great range of special text-books and a stream of poems, essays and lectures. At the place itself the fixtures and appliances are complete. Every variety of building and equipment is ample, and the grounds and waters have summer throngs. There is a Teacher's Retreat for weary but studious teach- ers, and a Summer School of Languages and abundant play as well as work. Chautauqua is now reproduced in all parts of the country. Attractive as its routine is and successful as its efforts is to com- bine recreation with improvement, it is wholly unable to satisfy the demand which it has created. Every precinct of land is get- ting its own Chautauqua. Assemblies of those who can take a few summer days for leisure, whose relish for the Word is lively, chiefly such as work in Churches and Sunday-schools, are CHAUTAU(^LA. 807 :w, Hellenistic ner schools in J helps by the Dgians of their that each is in st department 1. More than ;ed in preach- j\ has the im- as taken from red years ago t of Jerusalem r the peace of " "Jerusalem ik of Common ter Confession long ago, the historic name •urces without al clergymen, ive all docu- Tient can give. qua monthly al text-books are complete, iple, and the Lidious teach- idant play as the country, rts is to com- ble to satisfy f land is get- o can take a lord is lively, -schools, are abundant. There are over forty in this country. From eastern Maine to southern California, from the St, Lawrence to Florida, where the season first opens, one finds the assemblies. The youngest of all is at Palm.er Lake, Colorado, under the imperious guardianship of Pike's Peak. The story of Chautauqua has been thus fully told for two Dr. T. L. flood, EDITOR OF THE CHAUTAUQUAN. reasons ; one is that it illustrates the form which Methodism., ever the same in spirit, takes in these later days. We have seen how education has, from the beginning of the movement, been a cause upon which its best eftorts have been lavished. Since Whitefield laid with tears and pra\-ers that cor- ner-stone at Kincrswood and Weslcv went on to build the school, 8o8 THE STORY OF METHODISM. the temper of MctUodism has been to this day the same. And now, when schools of every kind, even of law and medicine, are in good supply, Chautauqua comes in to leather up those who cannot use the means already provided and bring them in to the glad feast of knowledge. This is akin to Wesley's work, to find the unawakened, the weary and the disheartened, and bring them to the heritage of light and life. The other reason is, that the Chautauqua movement has on other Churches an effect so like that which the movement called Methodism had on other Churches one hundred and forty years ago and which it has alwiiys had. Chautauqua was begun by Methodists, but it found prompt and powerful alliance with the best of other Churches. Without their aid it w^ould not have be- come what it now is. We saw how many Churches are rep- resented on its ground and are working for its success and are blest in their deed. The various denominations are there "dis- tinct as the billows, yet one as the sea." And, while all Churches thus give the enterprise their valuable aid and sympathy, they cheerfully concede that the beginning and the inspiration are Methodistic. Early in 1888 the University had six hundred students pur- suing its studies by correspondence, and its Summer Faculty was of the best obtainable teachers. More than one hundred thousand were prosecuting its reading and studios, forming a body larger than the University of Paris could boast in its wondrous days of old. The Chautauqua Monthly has fifty-three thousand subscrib- ers. In the summer of 1888 there were forty-one Chautauquas in the United States, one in Canada, and one in England. * CHAPTER LX. Ocean Grove. mm^m. fHE coast of New Jersey re- mained in its orit,nnal vvilder- '*T ness long after the overflow of the crowded city had spread to rural homes and summer resorts along the Hudson and the Sound. Six miles below Long Jiranch, already an attractive and becoming a fashionable retreat, and fifty miles from New York, some Methodist families, in 1869, found a quiet lake near the beach of the Atlantic. Here, in simple rest and devotion, they were deeply impressed with a feeling of the Divine Presence. " God is in this place " was their thought, as if He meant their coming to the lake to result in special honor to His name. Their ideas grew wide and earnest, and in December of 1869 was formed The Ocean Grove Camp-meeting Association of the Methodist Episcopal Church. Ocean Grove, the town that arose under the control of this association, has proved that it is practicable to combine rest, recreation and religion, three sore needs of a weary world. The rapid growth of the enterprise proved that it answered a healthy and deep felt want. About four hundred acres were purchased from wild beach lands, securing not merely an ocean front but some fresh ponds farther in. The sale of liquors within a circle of a mile was effectually prohibited, and other legislation needful to the design PILGRIM PATHWAY AND MAIN AVENUE, OCEAN GROVE, N. J. (Looking toward the Auditorium..) OCEAN (IKOVK. 8il secured. " In the be^inninl,^ God." This frai^'ment of Holy Writ came h'lden with suj^f^estioiis to the leader's niiiul, aiul he took it for a motto, as if he woukl have Ocean Grove, hke tlie primal earth, framed for the honor of the Creator. Such has been the temper and steadfast aim of the enterprise, and now has risen by the sea a fair city, such as He who smiles upon efforts for mortal happiness in His name, pronounces (one may humbly think) very good. There is a permanent population steadil)' increasing, and all the fixtures and appliances of an abiding town are in ample supply. The sewerage, the fire department, the postal and tele- graph service, artesian water works and electric lights, are accord- OCEAN GROVE, FROM THE SEA. mg to latest of completeness and facility. St. Paul's M. E. Church has a large and beautiful edifice and four hundred members. The walks by the sounding sea, many of whicli are asphaltum or con- crete, the fences and all solid fixtures, as well as all provision for supplies, indicate comfortable winter residence. It is, however, in summer that Ocean Grove serves the pur- pose for which it was* designed. In 1887, more than a million passr-gers came to its depot. These found homes for periods longer or shorter, in nine hundred and seventy-eight permanent buildings and six hundred tents, many of these latter being large and commodious. They were served by two hundred and forty- i»- ^M. OCEAN GROVE. «i3 CO six dealers of various kinds, and received during the season, five hundred thousand pieces of mail matter. A resort so large rapidly gathers the delights of modern civ- ilization, and so has Ocean Grove done. '1 he cottages and pub- lic buildings are usually beautiful. Trees and flowers are copi- <">usly cultivated. The lakes that nearly flank the town are gay with tiny craft, and Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste seem? brightening into smile? at the fragrance and beauty com- ing to him from the shore, and at the merry laughter of the bathers who sport with him in the s.irf along his margin. yiiiiiilil;.:: "SWRET HOME" COTTAGES. The exercises relating to moral and religious improvement are conducted with wisdom and energy. The Rev. Dr. 1".. M. Stokes, president of the association from the beginning, now nearly twenty years, adds to rare business abilit)' a hearty sym- pathy with the highest Christian experience, and with every effort for the welfare of man and the honor of Christ. He welcomes l.> the hospitality of Ocean Grove all who personally or collective!}- labor to promote works of piety and b-mevolence. Thus, during I i 814 THE STORY OF METHODISM. the season of 1887 (July and August), there were held fo';r hun- dred and ninety relii^ious or benevolent services. Of these, may be specified sixty-nine meetings for the attainment of personal holiness, in which, three hundred and forty-nine were brought to the bliss of the purified, six hundred and forty-two professed con- version, one hundred and forty were reclaimed from wandering, and eight thousand three hundred and ninety were specially helped in religious experience. Thus, nearly ten thousand re- ceived clear and felt Christian benefit. For sixty-nine days the work of God went quietly forward in this calm re- treat, and one may muse upon the contrast be- tween the fierce self- denials amid rocks and sands in early ages or the glooms of convents and monasteries, and these shades by bright waters where hearts joy- ous and free, with every blessing blest, gave to Christ in gladness and gratitude, the glory of summer hours. Here the African M. E. Church celebrated Emancipation Day; here, temperance unions, missionary societies, and other bodies, too many to name, h :ld their gatherings, and the very air grew rich benevolence, praise and joy. The success of Ocean Grove has inspired like enter- prises elsewhere, but this wears the wreath of primal success. So near to the heat and bustle of the great city, it is wholly clear of the maddening crowd ; only a step from the luxury and self- indulgence of Long Branch, it uses the world as not abusing it. Seated by the glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form glasses in tempests, in breeze, or gale, or calms, it looks upon the works of God and His wonders in the deep, and seeks to worship Him HON. JNO. B. FINCH, Grand Worthy Templar of the World. eld fo';r hun- 3f these, may ,t of personal re brought to )rofessed con- mi wandering, ^erc specially thousand re- •nine days the d went quietly this calm re- )ne may muse : contrast be- ficrce self- lid rocks and early ages or s of convents asteries, and les by bright 're hearts Joy- ce, with every ilcst, gave to gladness and the glory of )urs. the African rch celebrated ation Day; ;rance unions, :o name, h ;ld olence, praise :d like enter- 1 success. So holly clear of :ury and self- ot abusing it. s form glasses )(jn the works worship Him OCEAN GROVE. 815 in spirit and m truth. Methodist in origin, in management and in influence, it gathers not only Methodists of all branches and of all lands, but Christians of all denominations, and they go from it recuperated and revived in experience, with kindlier views of life and larger thoughts of duty. h K \\\ CHAPTER LXI. The General Conference of 1888. |HE Twentieth Delegated General Confer- ence, the twenty-fifth from the forming of the Church, met on the first of May in New York. The growth of the Church and the progress of the world had made it not only duly greater than any of its predecessors, but foremost of all assemblies of modern Christendom. Its direct constituency in the Methodist Episcopal Societies was over two millions ; second to none in energy, devo- tion, in wealth and intelligence. Of kindred churches wearing the name and owning the pedigree of Methodists, there were three millions, all turning with reverence and affection towards this gathering of the parental body. All Christian eyes turned towards the Conference and all Christian hearts mused of its doings. The place of its meeting was worthy of such a gathering. Methodism in the metropolis of the Western Continent is not strong, but it is renewing its mighty youth, and while the Confer- ence was sitting, hundreds of souls came to Christ in a revival which Harrison was conducting and in which bishops and eminent preachers assisted. There, too, was John Street, venerable as time could make it in this young land, still shedding the light which Webb and Embury had kindled. There was the book concern which in the former century John Dickens had begun with six hundred borrowed dollars, now grown to millions ot capital and millions of transactions. New York, with fifty-three churches and thirteen thousand members, was still the metropolis of Methodism. The building in which the Conference held iti !NCE OF 1888. General Confe/- n the forming of St of May in New 2 Church and the made it not only its predecessors, nblies of modern thodist Episcopal : in energy, devo- :hurches wearing dists, there were affection towards tian eyes turned ts mused of its ich a gathering. Continent is not hile the Confer- irist in a revival |ops and eminent et, venerable as dding the light was the book lens had begun to millions ot [with fifty-three th e metropolis ference held it.i THE GENERAL CONFERENCE OF 1 888. 817 sessions was fit to shelter it. The Metropolitan Opera House, at Broadway and Fortieth street, furnished the finest assembly room in the United States. Its platform was ample for the bishops and all officials with their guests ; the floor accommodated the dele- gates ; the first two galleries, made of boxei, paid by rental the cost of the hall, and the other two galleries were free to visitors. The lighting was wholly by gas, which brought out the splendor of the room and flooded its five thousand occupants with the full light of noonday. The personality of the Conference was worthy of study. Eleven bishops, with Thomas Bowman as senior, sat upon the platform, survivors of the thirty-seven since 1784. William Taylor, the missionary bishop of Africa, was most observed of them all. Finishing his work, he was waiting on the Liberian coast for a steamer due in a fortnight. Suddenly one appeared ("by order of Providence," he said), and he reached New York in time for Conference. His snowy beard, maroon face and mighty bearing were Abrahamic, but he came with neither two coats nor money in his purse. He brought only him- self and his record. With these sat on the platform men eminent in the various branches of Methodism, come on errands of brotherly greeting. Other denominations were often so repre- sented, so that the platform showed a constellation of stars of the first magnitude. Of delegates there were 463 ; of ministerial 288, of lay 175. Five women had been elected, Frances E. Willard, Mary C. Nind, Lizzie D. Van Kirk, Angle F. Newman and Amanda C. Rippey. One layman. Major E. L. Paine, remembered hearing Asbury preach, had seen in press the first number of the Christian Advo- cate, and at eighty-seven found age " a lusty winter, frosty but kindly." A preacher, Dr. J. M. Trimble, had sat in the General Conference of 1844 and seen the Church become two bands. These were the veterans, all others were of this generation. From China ("these from the land of Linim,") came Sia Sek Ong, once a Confi.cian bigot, now for twenty years a preacher of child- like bearing, but of heroic record, and Tiong-a-Hok, a merchant- prince of Foochow, devout and generous. The Conferences of India and Europe sent delegates. From Africa was noticed the venerable Mrs. Roberts, widow of the noble President of Liberia. A Norwegian represented the land of the midnight sun. 52 * i- h t if? I ',; iri II: I THE GENERAL CONFERENCE OF 1 888. 819 At the opening the lessons were read from a Hible long used by John Wesley and now owned by the Methodist Episcopal Church. The Bishop's address, written and read by Bishop Merrill, set forth the leading questions of the Church upon which action of the Conference was desirable, and it also indicated the views of the bishops thereon. The first of these questions related to the admission of women as delegates to the General Confer- ence. In 1872, a layman had been defined as any member of the Church, not a member of an Annual Conference. Under this definition twenty-two women (reserves being counted) had been elected to this General Conference. The debate was long and lively. After four days it was voted to submit the decision to a vote of the Church, according to the constitutional routine. In October and November of 1890 the members over twenty-one years of age in every society, will vote upon the admission of women to General Conference. If a majority of such voters f^ivor their admission, and three-fourths of the members of the Annual Conferences voting thereon also favor it, then the General Conference of 1892 can, by a two-thirds vote, complete the change, and any women then already elected can be at once ad- mitted. Closely related to this important action was a motion giving like career to a provision for making the number of lay delegates as many as the ministerial. It will be seen that on both these resolutions the initiative vote is with the laity, and the min- istry can do nothing without the primary approval of the societies. For some years already the State Church at Kaiserwerth, in Ger- many, had employed Deaconesses, an order of Christian women who cared for the sick, for orphans, for discharged prisoners, supplementing in kindly labor the pastoral service. The German and Swiss Conferences had found such a department of churchly activity. The General Conference, giving form and name to what already existed, provided for the organizing of these good women into an orderly system. Nine persons, three at least being women, may, in any Conference, be chosen as a Controlling Board. These may license as deaconesses any women over twenty-five years of age and two years of probation in the work above indicated, whom a Quarterly Conference may recommend. These take no vow, but simply devote themselves, under the direction of the pastor, to such Christian labor as may be suited 820 THE STORY OF METHODISM. t ill I ■;>&* to their abilities. Or they may establish themselves in a house or institute for like purpose, under a superintendent chosen by the Conference Board. This marks an advance in the recognition as a church-worker. The laymen of the cities had long been of the opinion that an extension of the time of pastoral service was needed. The view had reached the ministry, and the bishops agreed in suggest- ing its lengthening to four years. With singular unanimity the Conference made the term five years, with a possible return after five years of absence. The term of a Presiding Elder was stretched to six years. The position of Bishop Taylor was vigorously discussed. The conclusion was that he is not a General Superintendent; that he is in all things but breadth of superintendency, a full bishop ; that his field of superintendency is defined by the terms used at his election, and that he is in no wise subordinate to the General Superintendents. Bishop Taylor's supervision is over the African Conference. "No pent up Utica," he may say with the proud Numidian, "contracts our powers, but the whole boundless conti- nent is ours ! " For the better support of superannuated preachers and widows and orphans of deceased preachers, a Board of Confer- ence Claimants was organized, of twelve ministers and as many laymen, with the bishops as ex-officio members. These are to employ a corresponding secretary, and the duty of the body is to raise, manage and disburse funds raised by the annual collections, or in any other way, for the benefit of the above named benefi- ciaries. This gives energy, equity and system to a serious and just duty of the Church. The world ("my parish," said Wesley) was divided into one hundred and eleven Conferences, seven Mission Conferences and four Missions. Enabling acts were passed for creating nineteen new Conferences, so that the map of Methodism may, in 1892, show one hundred and forty-one provinces, of which the African Con- ference is the largest. Except in the acts just noted, the temper of the Twentieth General Conference was conservative, being steadily set, " not to mend our rules but keep them." On May 24th, during the session, occurred the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of John Wesley's conversion, the true » • 5 in a house or chosen by the recognition as le opinion that needed. The eed in suggest- unanimity the )le return after ing Elder was lisly discussed. intendcnt; that a full bishop ; terms used at to the General ver the African vith the proud loundless conti- preachers and »ard of Confcr- s and as many These arc to the body is to lual collections, named bcncfi- D a serious and Is divided into on Conferences 'eating nineteen y, in 1892, show e African Con- ted, the temper ervative, being 1." le one hundred sion, the true Ni F.TROPOLITAN METHODIST CHURCH, TORONTO, CANADA. 82: TlIK SroRV OK METHODISM. .< ':^' II Ih an' spiritual origin of "the movement called Methodism." On that day in 1738, "my heart was strangely warmed," and many warm hearts were lifted to heaven in gratitude and praise when this day, in its annual round, reached the General Conference. Fraternal greetings from branches of the central banian came copiously and tenderly. The youngest of them all, the Inde- pendent Methodist, an outcome of the one hundred Methodist churches of Baltimore, reported two thousand communicants gathered in twenty years. The Rev. Dr. J. T. VVightman presented their brotherly regards. They have some chapels and Sunday Schools. Their missionary efforts arc through the societies of the Methodist I'^piscopal Church, and the Methodist Episcopal Church South. The Rev. Dr. E. A. Stafford, pastor of the Met- ropolitan Church, Toronto, the largest Methodist Church in the world, brought the salutations of Canadian Methodism. He reported two hundred and ten thousand members, and two hund- red and eleven thousand dollars missionary money, the only known instance of a large church going beyond the dollar-line. From the Church South came the Rev. Dr. S. A. Steel, of Louisville. He knew of the separation and even of slavery by tradition only, and his heart longed for union in fact, if not in form. He reported the addition of seventy-five thousand three hundred and nine to his church in 1887, making its members now one million fifty-five thousand nine hundred and fifty-four, with four thousand four hundred and thirty-four traveling preachers. The African Methodist Episcopal Church, from its own General Conference, sitting at Indianapolis, with two hundred and si.xty delegates from forty-one Annual Conferences and nearly three hundred thousand members, reported among other things its desire and effort to unite with churches of its own ken, so that in the States, in Canada and the Islands there might be one African Methodism. It had just elected four bishops, two of whom, born slaves, had by their own energy, raised themselves to a fitness for such position, and whose personal history will yet enrich a story of African Methodism. The American Methodist Episcopal Zion Church, holding General Conference at Newbern, N. C, sent greetings from three hundred thousand members, one thousand seven hundred and fifty preachers and twenty-five Conferences, and alluded to the llir, GENERAL roNFERENcE OK 188.S. •^-'3 part its people, the Dinahs ami Ponipcys of the time, took in the labor and sacrifice of building Methodism in New York a hundrrd years ai^o. The Conference of l^n^dand was represented by the Rev. Charles II. Kelly, and that of Ireland by the Rev. Wesley (iii.ud. They told heart-cheering^ thin^^s of Methodism in its old home, of the great and successful efforts to spread its influence in Lon- don and to reach cver\- villaj^e in the kingdom. It is i^oin^- forth in all its ancient vigor and Wesley need not blush for his great grandchildren. The Church in all its affiliations numl)ers five hundred and thirty-seven thousand antl si.\ty-si\, with forty-si.\ thousand eight hundred and twenty-one on trial, besides "junior classes" of children numbering over eighty thousand, of .Suiulay School scholars there arc eight hundred and ninety-two thousand five hundred and thirty-two. Home mission work is now tlie notable feature of Methodist church work, and so is Great Britain by emigration sending forth her peoi)le that every effort is needed to retain and advance in the mother land. It is affecting cause for gratitude that Ireland, the " island of sorrow," Methodism steadily increases and all its institutions are green as the shamrock. Thus in all the world Methodism was shown to be growing in vigor, breadth and power. In 1891 there will [)robabl)' be held in New York an Ecumenical (all world) Methodist Council. It will then be shown that Methodism is planted in every land ; that the century since Wesley's death has been greatest of all the Christian centuries, and that his life and labors were blessed as the agency by which the head of the Church was pleased most to renew His people and bring the nations to the obedience of the faith and the experience of His grace. MODEL OF MOUNTAINS OK MOAB, CHAUTAUQUA, N. Y. CHMTKR LXII. Future Mkthodism. lisl UCH more than the present is the future in a well-ordered life. It is wider, brighter and more effective. It is sad for a man, whether of this world or the world to come, if to-morrow has no charm, and it is for an institution just as sad. The glory of Christianity and of the Church, which is its visible organism and dwelling-place, is that its assured future is broad, glowing and immense. It is to subdue and control the earth, and in it the race of man is to find rest, and all pure and noble longings their con- summation. In that consummation, we believe Methodism is to have its full share. In all this Story there has been no comparison or con- trast of Methodism with other branches of the great Christian I'UTUKK MKIHODISM. 825 Church. The narrative Hows within its own borders. If we be- lieve that Methodism is to stay and j^row in the world, it is not because we think that it will supersede or crowd out any other Church. There is room enou^di, there is work cnou^di, for all. Bishop Meade, of the I'rotestant Mpiscopal Church, in Vir- ginia, once said: "Fifty years a^o, when I be^Mn my ministry, I was sure that the Protestant l-'.piscopal Church so perfectly em- bodied the ideas and usaj^es of the Christian faith that I believed it would soon be the Church of America, and come to control the Christianity of the world. The Baptists were growing, and I was confidentially told by a preacher of theirs that he was certain they would early dominate this land. The Methodists were sin^^- in^: "The Methodists are L,^'linin^f <,n-ound. Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord !" After fifty years, wc stand not much different!)- from our standing at that time. All have grown, some faster, some slower, but none prevails. If it were true that the growth of one Church meant the decline of any other, thanksgiving even might be a doubtful exercise. But it is with Churches as with gardens, where the thriving of one helps the thrift of all, or as with regiments, where the success of one helps the general victory. There are reasons why the future Story of Methodism should be a cheerful one. One is this — that its doctrines and usages are well settled. No new dogma can enter. The Pope, thirty years ago, announced a new doctrine, the Uogma of the Immaculate Conception, and Montalembert, the ablest lawyer of France, said: " 1 bow my intellect to my faith." When the intellect straightens itself, beware ! Nor is there room for any new usage or any serious change of usage in Methodism. There is nowhere any complication, except in the voluntary and decreasing usage of the District Conference. All else is simplicity itself, and the working of the system in order and freedom bears the test of now five generations. According to the reliable identity of the human nature, one cannot see why it may not wear for hundreds of generations. There has been no loss of piety and devotion. We might have given, from the jour- nals of early men, ample proof that their days were days of trial from the unworthy living of many. Aged men of wide and care- ful sight and insight affirm improvement under their own eyes. i-: •iM km rill''' 11. S26 THE STORY OF METHODISM. Personal liolincss, deep, Scriptural experience, intellii^ent and active benevolence, <;ro\v with the growth of the Church and streni^then with its streni^th. In Churches, as in jjrivate business, increase of capital means increase of spread, enert^y and result in business. The M. \i. Church has now a magnificent accumulation. Its preachers (in all Methodism) arc now, local and itinerant, one hundred and eleven thousand. Its members are five and one-half millions, and the increase, as reported by its weekly journals, is more rapid now than ever. If, as is often said, one member in fact means on an average four persons influenced, then there are under the in- fluence of Methodism to-day twenty-seven and one-half millions of people, and these figures are not extravagant. In the United States, since the takings of the census began, the increase of Methodists has been about six times as great as the increase of the whole population. And this increase, not gained from other Christian ('hurches, but from the great throng of the unchurchly, the undevout, the unsaved. So may it ever be ! There are now, in all, small and large, about two hundred and fifty institutions of learning in the Methodism of America. It is not easy to get the exact number in other lands, as in Australia, but from the best data one may count them as fifty. In our far West, every year sees new ones rising. These schools must be a growing i)ower in societ)'. It is but a hundred and sixty }'eais since John Wesley was leading a few friends at OxfcMxl in reading the New Testament in the original tongue and in the daily practice of its teachings. Looking back upon the movement thus begun, it is seen to have become the greatest Christian revival since the days of the apos- tles. TliC impress of this revival, called Methodism, upon the religious, moral and social conditions of mankind, is deep and broad. The field it occuj)ies reaches almost to the extremities of the globe. The gradual and providential growth of the Meth- odist system has given it particular fitness and power to evan- gelize and organize, both at home and in foreign lands. As missionaries are winning other lands, the action and re- action of foreign and home societies increase". A Baptist mis- sionary in Burmah has this year sent home five hundred dollars to aid Church work in this country, and thus help his mission at '"'kh!^: mi ,i%', K.-Wii wS'Ca FUTURE METHODISM. 827 ntclligent and ; Church and ■ capital means s. The M. E. preachers (in hundred and If miUions, and is more rapid I fact means on e under the in- le-half millions its source, and on the sane principle success in India insures suc- cess in America. Methodism must therefore have in prospective such a future as will gladden the earth with joy and sin^in^, and for its suc- cess, not its adherents only, but all friends of mankind, must ever pray. census began, mes as great as IS increase, not he great throng may it ever be ! it two hundred of America. It as in Australia. fty. In ( liools mu5 )hn \VcsU\' was 'w Testament in )f its teachings, is SI-' n to have I us of the apos- ihe extremities [th of the Meth- ower to e\'an- A Baptist mis- Ihundred dollars I) Ills missioi .« r jf INDEX. ■xySs" PAGE . 375 . 376 . 875 . 376 . 398 . 398 . 399 . 399 . 436 . 557 . 6G9 . 561 483 483 548 485 545 545 548 4S6 567 Abbott, Benjamin, Sketch of labors in New .lerHcy c->n8idercd crazy the Methodist Hunyan in New Jerwey and Pennsylvania mobs greet hini the Presbyteriaii and in the storm .... death of . ... Adams, Daniel Advocate. The N. Y. Christian '. Africa, Methodism ii\ . African Methodistn neparato M. E. t'hurch formed Bethel Church 4h5 Zion Church . first, converts .... relation to <;hurch South many Churches of the Hchlcms in .... Africa's Luminal y African M. E. Church. sketches and portraits ol bishops ol Africa, Colonies in missionary bishops for . Alrey, Mr Alabama, First Protestant sermon in Albrights, The portrait of Jacob .... Allen, John, mention of, with portrait . Allen. Bishop Kichard I'ortrait and Hketcli of founds the first African Church in America 7(J6 monument to 700 Allen, Young J., mention and portrait of . 687 Allhallow's Church, View of . . . .177 interior view of 207 Alms, Wesley giving, engraving of, . . 149 Amazonlans, at Worship, View of . . 826 America, South, Methodism in . . . 619 Paganism and Bomanism in . . . 619 condition of society in ... , 621 American Bible Hociety 169 American Visitors to England . aw, 618 Amerieau Kevolution 828 America, Mission ork in, Volunteers for . 363 want of discipline in . , . .871 Institutions admired .... 409 first itinerant in 372 his record 373 second itinerant in 375 English Church in 407 first M t hodlst iustitutiouH in . . 422 , 7(iO , 567 , 571 39') 472 457 458 439 485 PAOB America, cause of differeneen i' Methodism 514 anti-slavery socii!ty found-Ai , arrival of iiegnics in Ames. Bisliop lidward It., Sketch of '. portrait of sagacity of .....' and till! Indians ..'.', Andrew, James O., sketcli and portrait of and slavery .... Andrews, Kdward G., Bishop, sketch and portrait of (Quaker descent of ... | Senator llawlcjy and Angels, Legend of .... Anne, Queen, Portrait of Annesley, Dr., Father of Mrs. Wesley . ATineslev. Snannnn lifru <,:,,. ,,..1 \ir,...l^ 535 545 711 719 Til 711 537 537 Annesley, Susanna, Mrs. Saniuel U'cslor portrait of " Antigua, Methodism in . . . ] picture of first serinipii in . Apologete, Die Christliclu! . Apostolic Succession, Wcslcv's vl"w of Appeal, Wi'slcyV to the Clergy Arniiniiis, I'ortrait ol . . . . Arminianism, Methotiist, A '•minian Magazine .... Arrctton Church, Viovol Arnett. Bishop, B. W., sketch and Portrait Asbury, Francis, the Wcslcv of .Viiifrica . 724 . 724 . 724 . 644 . 26 . 27 . 29 . 29 . 423 168 a53 lfj4 175 415 414 268 278 774 :i63 portrait of 343 portrait of at 26 3(54 view of his home in cliildhood . 865 his choice ii! life 354 Hannibal of Methodl^ni .... 364 per:-i)iial niagnetisni .... 364 picture oi .Man wood cottage . . .360 foresiglit of 380 syninatliy, with American Revolution . 386 predicts freedom 388 labors in New York and Philadelphia . 365 made .American superintendent . . 367 and Otterbein 377 falls sick 387 course during the revolution . . .384 rests WesleyanlHshion . . , .389 meets ( 'oke 390 letter of recall by Wesley , . . 392 salary and personal property of . .405 lays corner-stone of inkesbiiry Coliet^o 422 not ambitious of woi Idly honors . .425 begins in New England" . . . .429 in tlie wild West 445 and "de ole Bushnp" . . . .452 iu the wild West ugam . ; . .468 a I ,'?' hit! ' n '5«i i*'/jSlU I; ! i tt \u- ft ■ 7 ■ '.-" - -171- •";'ft-if(«i'|S»|):- 4 "/I* of II Asbury lovcB Bonthem biCthren . luHt days and death . inoniiineiit to — c'ii88 . 390 Brazilian Missions 620 . 390 Brecon, Coke Memorial Schools at, wlf.h cut 226 . 121 Bremen, Tract House, View of . . 657 . 335 Breedon Church, eiigravint: of . . . 186 . 19 Bridgeport, First Church in, view of . . 428 . ;it;6 Bristol, Old, view of 74 . 70 Whitefield first preaches at . . . 67 . 120 first .Methodist chapel built at . . 76 . ■'SsU British and I'Oreign Bible Society . . 199 . 341) Broughton, Portrait of 174 . 478 Brown, liishop Aforris. sketch and portrait 767 , 233 Jirown, Bishop •John M., sketch and portrait '771 . 685 Brush, Laura, in Alrica , . . . 570 . 83 Bulgaria, Methodism in 646 . 570 mission view of 047 . 108 I'riests beg Bibles 647 .221 first convent in 648 . 101 view of school in 650 . 222 massacres in 661 . 221 Bucklev, .1. M., D. D., Portrait ot . 670 . 221 BueiU)s Ayres, View of 623 .221 M. K. "church in, picture of . . .623 . 221 ('arrow in 623 . 799 first Spanish sermon in . . . 025 . 6!j3 Bugbee, Lucius 11., with portrait . . .802 , 654 Bunhill Fields. View of . . .104 , 175 Bunting, .labez, with jiortrail . . .298 .369 Burchard, ,). L., Indian Agei.t . . .658 . 180 Burns, l""raiicis, Bishop for Africa . 571 . 180 sketch of. with portrait . . . .744 . 251 edits Africa's Liiininary .... 744 . 165 Burns, Bobert, I'ortrait of .... 80 .430 Burtons Chapel 453 . 392 Butler, William, goes to India . . . .'599 . 408 jiortraitof 599 .410 Butler, , J. W., Portrait of . . . .631 . 517 Butler's, Bishop Censure . . . .19 . 706 Butler's, I'arson, Attack, View of . . 140 . 1.56 Buddhist TempK, Sacied gardens, view of . 325 .703 Buxton, T. F.,J>onrait of . . . .322 . 751 urges emancipation 323 . 766 Cab Stand established by Wesley, picture . 264 ihi'^ FAQB , picture ft lire of ortrait, h picture portrait uul )f . with engraving mil Slvi'tcli of . i Seminary . Sunday-BChool . s . . • looTs at, wif.h cut V of . of . . . 11, view of . i!s at . )iiilt at society tell and portrait etcli and portrait trait of re of ortrait . ail I'l.t Africa dia Jew of rardent', view of Vcnlrv, picture 409 289 118 Ml 297 49 456 457 458 60 425 480 670 669 070 526 240 241 240 240 309 429 442 430 693 U9B 504 , 718 , 718 , 717 , 718 142 . 505 . 492 . 492 . 22S . 223 . 265 . 301 . f)88 620 226 057 186 428 74 57 76 199 174 767 771 570 (U6 047 047 048 U50 051 070 022 023 023 025 H02 104 . 298 . 558 , 571 . 744 . 744 . 80 . 463 . 599 . 599 . 031 . 19 . 140 . 325 . 322 . 323 . 254 Cain, Bifehop, R. II. fikctch and portrait Calcutta, Uirls Mchool. View of portraits of jtraduatinj^ claws . sailor's resort in ... Calhoun on Indian MisiHionM . California, First Chureli in, with pictn Japauesu mission in, with picture separation from Oregon . China Town .... Uuiversity in, with picture Calvin, Johu, portrait of Calvinism of WhIteUeld . Cttlviuistic Methodism . Calviuistic Controversy . CalvlnlMtlc Struggle Camp-Meetings introduced First Knglish .... picture of first in KcntucAy cooking at, picture of Campbell, Hartley .... Campbell, Bishop J., sketch mid portrait Canada, Methodist Church orgaiii/.i'd in early labors in . first Church hfillt in jurisdiction of .... unity of . . . separation from Church in I'. S. Indian Missions in . largest Church in world in Canoe Circuit Cannibalism Cape Coast Castle and picture of . (^ape Town and view ot . Capers, Bishop William, with |)ortr:iit labors among Creek Indians . Capers, Major William . Cu\i(i May Clommission . Capital Punishment outrageous instances of . Told's influence on . Caporali, Portrait ol . . . edits (Quarterly Ueview . Cardoza, Conversion of . Carman, Kev. A., with portrait Cartwright, Peter, with portrait Carvosso, William, with portrait . Case, William, with portrait . Catholic, Couversiou of a , Cazenovia Semina-.y, view of Cazenovia, view ot village in S40 Cennick, ,1., mention ot with portrait Centenary, The English . Cestius, pyramid of, view ot . Ceylon Chautauqua, Dcscripton ot with view the, idl a villa<'e forsaking lieathenisiu . 5.50 remarkable cities of . 814 retali.'itioii in . . 449 (iirls Sctiool Kooehow, view ol . 330 ('hoetaws, .Methodism among . il2s Christmas Conlerence . 330 Christian perieetion . 475 Christian and Savage contrasted, i . 751 Christian Jtecorder, The , 475 Christiana, view of Church at .544 Church government . 218 Cliiirch music . . , . . 219 (Jhurch ot the Strangers . 219 Church ICxtension Society . 042 of Clinrcli South . 040 {Churches not warmed . 025 Cincinnati entered . . 449 first tierman society formed ii . 499 view of in isil . .307 City Road Chapel, view of . 4s7 interior view ol old . .148 exterior view of 18S7 . 099 interior view of 1SH7 . 000 .hihn Wesley's grave and inon . s7 Clallin I'niversity, [lii'tiiie . 342 Clarke, Adam . ' . . (134 strange passage in history of . 324 coinmentaries ol . 795 niissionarv views of . 790 in Isle of ilersey . 790 portrait of . . 797 church and school house . 797 view <,!.... . 802 simplicity of . . . . 801 and the coin . S02 after Wesley's heart . 802 striking interpretations ot . 807 moniiinent to . . S07 Clark. I). W., Bishop, portrait of . 8U5 sailors' life . 805 Abolitionist . 805 edits Ladii-.i' lii'pn.u'tory . . 800 death ot . . . . 808 Clark liiiversity, with view . . 800 (Markson, portrait of . 800 Clapliam, The s.-ct . . 807 good men ot , . . . 808 Class, The .... . 798 Cla>, Henry .... . 89 Clayton, portniil of . 209 Cllve, I,oril. portrait ef . .(120 Clowes, Wni.. with imrtrilit . . 418 Coke, Tlioinax . 552 premier ol Mel hodism . .552 urires an Kast India Mission . 564 iu B'rance .... tat 111 I'AQB . 554 . 40 . 41 . 2U3 . 99 . 493 . ,'>54 . 074 . 718 . .531 . .531 . 578 . .578 . 328 . 579 . 581 . 5H2 . 582 . 575 . 575 . 576 . 580 . 583 . 584 . 584 . 585 . 586 . 588 . 591 . t'>83 . 5.54 . 410 . 414 . 333 . 485 . 038 . 408 . 064 . ,549 . 0S9 . 090 . 3,52 . 407 . (i,52 . 444 . 208 . 209 . 211 . 211 . 212 . 081 . 244 . 246 . 247 . 250 . 275 . 245 . 248 . '^4.8 . 244 . 246 . 240 . •,i47 . 206 . 713 . 713 . 718 . 713 . 714 . 680 . 323 . 204 . 204 . 066 . 502 174 324 . 308 . 225 . 227 228 . 275 H. '^i ^m (. ' !.i^ ■ . '-; /iv?- ■ *.'a !b><¥ IV Coke, Thomas, takes Daniel Graham to West IiidicH .... in India death of Eortrait of, and Mcmoriul Schools is Irregularities consequenct's of . . . comes as tlr»t Bishop portrait of his imprcs^iions of America . views on slavery has interview with Washington relieved from ofllce in America Cokesbury College, comer stone of, laid destruction of . Col(iuitt, A. 11., with portrait Collins, John Collins. J. 1) Color line, Th-! .... Common Prayer, Book of Conference, The First, with picture the flrHt Methodist . the second .... statistics of Thirty-fourtli rules of Conference, Asljury's first Conference, First American . want of discipline at doings after Second . Christmas description of Quarterly . at VVilbraham, 1794 . " . doings, 179ti .... doings of two general doings, 1804 .... the Bachelor .... doings, 1875 .... Conference, General composition of . restrictive rules its preaching .... stalistics of 1888 day and place .... Metropolitan Opera house Sersonal ot .... elegutes at ... . lay question .... deaconesses at . superannuated preachers nt . presiding elders term extended a( world divided into conferences England, represented Congress appoints a fast day . members converted . Connecticut, imprisonments in Controversy, the Calvinistic . Conversion, n remarkable Converts, unbautii^ed Constitutions, U. S.. tramers of, picture Cook's. Valentine, debate Cooknnin, George G., with i)ortruit Coomassie Cooper, Kzekiel .... opposes slavery Corea, Methodism in, with picture Cornwall, picture ot rock, pulpit at Cornwallis, surnniderof Cork, attack of chapel at, with cut. Council, Ecuineniciil Cox, Melville B., in Africa (/Owper, William, with portrait ('rawlord. Scth .... Crecrk Indians Creigliton, James .... Crook, John (;rii)ple Gate, view St. Giles ( hurch Cromwell, Oliver, portrait of . Culloden, Battle of . Cutter, Ann Curry, Daniel, 1). D., witli portrait edits Clark's works . INDEX. PAOB my 319 S24 32U 227 220 220 392 403 408 420 420 452 422 422 .'>49 4(i7 .575 G80 24 128 127 153 224 228 307 371 371 377 410 410 440 451 463 408 408 614 510 510 510 511 512 816 810 817 817 817 818 818 819 819 819 823 392 C76 440 191 148 407 389 465 075 329 069 394 595 117 436 140 823 502 199 55(5 !j52 249 273 28 27 121 289 009 247 Doddridge, Philip, mention of with portrait 156 Dorsey, I). B 617 Dow, Lorenzo, admitted to (Conference . 463 preaches first Protestant sermon in Alabama 472 sketch ot 778 on the Connectii-iit 778 warns the government .... 778 portrait ot 778 Dougherty, Geo 454 Drew Seniinary 69'> Drew, Samuel, witl» portrait .... 247 Dunwell, John 32'.» Duncan. Bishop W. W., sketch and portrait 762 Chaplain in the war Duiiwoody. Samuel Durbin, John P., with portrait missionary secretary strug49 . 465 . 276 . 27(5 255, 205 . S81 . ll»» . 322 131 882 3<.)6 384 383 611 636 242 303 160 468 468 408 101 490 702 471 503 68(5 503 143 313 3U1 474 764 474 474 755 002 597 153 89 •203 674 . U9!t rhc >ortrait iii^ of 1 portrait )ldicr8 ill Battle of A'anip ortrait I C'onfcrencu of II . . . of 111 j);roiip wl F., PAOM . 27T 184, 1S» . 184 . 213 . 3-U . r>42 . 88 . 228 . 4» 540, 540 . 465 . 276 . 2Tt; 255, 205 . 281 . 199 322 131 8S3 3i)e 384 383 611 030 242 863 160 468 468 408 101 490 esiey iietch of ew Hkctcli and . 772 . 445 . 866 . 267 . 154 iketch and portrait 773 .236 . 341 253, 271 . 210 . 756 . 765 . 750 . 766 ion of with portrait 156 . 617 to Conferonce . 403 tttaiit sermon in . 472 . 778 . 778 , 778 , 778 464 , 69r. rait . .247 . 32U ketcli and portrait 702 . 762 , 471 . 608 . 680 , 603 . 143 313 301 rtrait in . iigraviiig ds Kandolph Vl'H under [lositiou ait of ley's dealli 474 764 474 474 756 062 597 153 89 •203 674 093 INDEX. l-AOE Educational Society, Board . . .074 Education 3:'>9 Elliot, (icortre and portrait of ... 29;! EI(!ctoral C'ontereuce .ViO Elliott, Cliarlei . .... 0;i9 Embury, Philip, firnt Mi itiodist preaclier in Ann-rica 349 forms llr!»t class in Camden . . . 3.')5 death of 350 portrait of i)50 of Cierinan blood 349 buildri a pulpit 3.52 his many duties 352 leads Einiiirants 349 lands in K. Y 349 Emory, Hishop John, with portrait . 4.S2, 485 Emory, ,Iohn, visits Kiifiland . . . 314 Emancinatioii in British Empire . . . 323 Enplanu in Wesley's lime . . .18 England, William 214 English Church in America .... 4(ii MetlKHlist missions 319 English visitor. George Marsdeii . . . 470 Enclianter, The ."isi Enniskilleii, lirst Irish martyr at, with cut . 147 Epworth parsoimize. old view . . .31 parsonage, liile view .... 32 strange noises at 39 hymnal ....... 44 .John returns to 83 Wesleys vanish from .... .52 EpiscoiialProtestant proposed union . . ."iKt Evangelist, Der CiS") Evangelical Association, Thi! . . . 45s Evangelists, Uecent, sketches and portraits 770 the four young 472 female " 7S2 Evans, He:iry 475 Evans, John . 131 Evans, Dinah and portrait .... "291 Evans, Seih 'J9() Erskine's, Lord, Detense of Methodism . 304 |)ortrait ot 304 Europe, Methodism in 035 Eurasians 000 Extempore praver 01 Exhorter, the ililitiiry 394 Experience 414 Expulsion, opposed 001 Faith 271 Fairtield, view of old Town Hall . . . 427 Farringtoii, Miss, in Africa . . . .,'503 returns lioiiie .'i04 Fasting, day of 392 Fetter l.aiie" 07 Chapel in, engraving ot . . . .07 Ficcola l.a 040 FieldiiiL'. jiorfrait of 19 Field I'reachiiiL'. lirst. bv Whitefleld . . 08 Weslevs lirst OH Fiji . ■ 335 jireaching in, rur of .... 702 Five Points ot Methodism .... 129 view of mission ill 784 Finch, Hon. J. It., iioitniitof . . .814 Finhy, James H., with portrait , . .492 conversion of 492 Mission to Indians 493 Finsburjr Dispensary 201 First things in America 349 Fisk, Wilbur, with iiorlrait . . . .489 portrait of 488 graduatc^s from Hro«ii University . 489 Fisk. Clinton P., portrait of . . . ..'543 Fitzu'erald. O. P., jMirtraitof . .073 Fitzsrenilil, Bishop, with portrait of . . 740 legal tastes of 740 home of 741 Flathead Indians 626 Fletcher, John 170 portrait of 171 picture of birthplace of , . . .172 PAOB Fletcher, .John, at Thirty-fourth Conference 224 niarriagi' t>l 240 at Madcley 208 liortruit ot 404 death ot \>ii Fletcher. Mary Hosaiuiuet, with portrait ;'.(I9, 404 ■■" ' "' ' ■ "• ' ' 807 404 584 574 r,n 083 132 132 720 720 729 403 77 340 71 7:w Flood, 'I'. L., portrait ot Fluvanna. Saeraiiicnts at Foochow, .Methodism enters views ot on river Mill Mission S. S. and picliiii' view of school in ... . Fontenoy. Hattleol. Methodist Soldiers in view ot Foster. Pisliop Randolpli S.. Sketch of portrait ot Foss, Bishop C. T)., Sketch and portrait Founders of Metliodism. luirtraits of . Foundry Chapel pici lire ot Foundry School engravinii of Fowler, Bishop C. II., sketch of portrait ot 738 Missionary Secretary .... 739 France, Methodism enters .... 273 througli prisoners of war . . . 276 statistics ot Methodism in . . . 276 Franklin, Ben., portrait ot . . .58 Freeman. T. B :;29 Free Methodist Church. The ; .0.59 some change of u-aL'e .... (iCO Freedmen, Methodism among the . . 077 Freedinan's Aid Society . . . .078 Freedman'i; Bureau 078 Free Seats (i03 Friendly Islands ;i:ui Fry, Klizabelh and iioilrait ot . . . 292 Fiiiul, Preachers' JOO Future Methodism 824 tiaddis', Mrs., Indian Work . .,5.56 (iaiiies, Bisliop W. .1.. sketch and portrait 774 (jalloway, Bisliop C. B., sketch with [lortriiit 7G3 (iamnion School of Theology, picture of . Oso (iamhold. portrait of . '. . . .174 (iarrett Biblical Institute . . . .073 view of 095 (iarrettson, Freeborn. Conversion of . .393 sketch and labors ot .... 394 portrait ot . . . . . 394 Gateh, Philip 375 trials and triiiiii|>lis of . , , 382 Oiiy, Dr., with iiortrait 041 (iaribaldi, nieiitioiied fXl Geneva, Lake. |iictuie of ... . 170 view of city ot 015 Gf'iitry, mob of 423 (ieorgia, Cokiwind Asbury in . . .424 (Jeorge, Kiioch, with portrait . . 513 lieorgi! III., Methodist Class Leader . 97 Iiortrait of 98 General Uiiles for the T'nited Society . .109 (ieiieral Hilles for Preachers . . . . 129 Germans in Ireland 1.58 ill a storm, nicture of ... . 52 German Methodism ... . i'>.52 (iibsoii, 'I'obias 470 (iibsoii, Otis, witli portrait .... .533 (iibraltar, view ot 337 Gilbert, Nathaniel eiigravini: of Glasgow, John Weiley vi<'w ot Glazebrook. James . (ilendenning . (ilenorchv. Lady 107 108 105 104 101 3S4 200 743 560 380 (ioodsell, Bishop D. A., with (lortrait of (ioheen, S. M. K Ciou^h. Henry Dorsey .... and slaves 380 Goiicher. J. T 595 Hall, view ot.Tokio 591 VI INDEX. mi u li^^ 111 l-i^ ^ i'M m f /■•■,»' if{*;,i. .i\. Gowns used (lUWIIIl, •luiiics .... Uruat'H, I'rutiiduiit, Indian policy , ])ortrnit of .... Grunt. A., liixliop, nketch and portrait OrunbiTv, Kinhop, r^lvL'tch with portrait Cliiiplaincy ol . beconii'!* a profi'S(4 . mi . 507 . B.57 . 776 . 7U0 . 700 . 700 . iill . Hid . 319 . 40-' . 449 . 449 . laiJ , 1«8 . 457 . 48-i . V2i . i;j9 . i;;9 . '^75 . 5!iH . 192 . it:i4 . 288 . 89 . 59H . 592 . 593 . 59;i . 4U4 . 7oa . 704 . 271 . :<«4 . ,')75 . 537 1(0, at 761 194 72 I9G 190 196 197 198 532 ,')91 718 719 24J 719 720 720 786 786 787 788 788 789 789 503 409 669 326 726 726 733 733 732 733 118 138 691 665 146 351 851 447 461 FAGB Heck Hall, picture .... Hedding, Bishop Elijah, Sketch of . G»5 . 463 portrait ot . 4M Hedstrom, O. G . 636 Hell Neck . 383 Ilendri.x, Bishop E. U., Sketch with poi rtrait 764 Heresy, Tried for .... . 284 result of . 285 Heroic Times . 103 Ilerrnhut ...... . 63 llervey's attack on Wesley . 173 i)ortrait of Hibbard, Billy .... . 174 . 458 wit of . 458 Hibbard, Freeborn (Jarrettson . 459 Hicks, Woolman .... . 406 Hick, Samuel, picture of in Smithy Hiuhiauders, Lncravingof . Highwaymen and Itinerants . Hill, Kowland . 'J'J4 . 159 . 260 . 187 portrait of . 187 offends Lady Huntingdon . 189 oi)ens first S. S. in London Hill, hichard . 261 . 187 Hills, The remarkable history of . . 187 Ilinson's Chai)el .... . 374 Hindoo Women, C\it of . . 607 Clara M. Swain among . . 609 view of School .... . 611 Holy Club, The, engraving of . 48 Hopper, Christian . 169 Ilojiper, Mather . 297 Home Missions . 302 lioudii, Kev. Y., portrait . .'590 Home, Melville .... . 248 Horner, .John . 327 Horton College, Tasmania, picture of . . 331 Howard, .lohn . 233 calls on Wesley . . . . . 233 portrait of . 233 l)ioneer of philantlnophv common hope with Wesley Howe mentioned . 218 . 233 . 19 Humi)hr(\v, I)r, in India Huntingdon, Sellna, Countess of . . 002 . 97 )ortrait of . 96 nclines to Calvinism . 101 harmonizing friend of Wesley and Whitefleld . 98 loses control of her Churches . 200 death of . 202 Hu I'o Mi . .580 portrait of . 580 Hurst, Bishop J. F. . . . . 731 portrait of . 731 Hu Sung Eng . 582 Hymns and Sacred Poems . 79 specimen writing ot . . . . 79 compared with modern . , 271 Ingham, Portrait of . . . . . 174 Ingersoll, Hob. and Chaplin McCabe . . 690 India, Methodism in ... . . 597 first native preacher . 599 outrages in . 599 first convert . , • . . 600 orphanage in . 605 Childs' marriages . . . . . 606 land of Schools . . . . . 610 failure of Theological School In . 611 gifted men arise in . . . . 018 Indiana, Methodism in . . 468 Indians, Methodism among the . . 551 Indians, perils among . . . . . 443 Amazonian, sun worship, view of . . 626 preaching opposed . . . . Secretary Calhoun interposes . . 552 . 552 alphabet invented for, picture of . whiskey banished from . . 553 . 555 learn English . 555 baptism among, picture of . 555 statistics concerning . 660 Bacrificcsfor . 666 nw Lf,f'il S3 INDIA. VII FACE » • . G«5 tchof . 403 • • . 404 • • . 035 • • . 383 h with poi rtrait 704 • . 284 • . 286 • • . 103 , , . 03 , . 173 , , . 174 , , . 458 • • . 458 n • . 459 , . 40S imithy . 1204 , , . 159 , , . 200 , , . 187 , , . 187 1 • . 189 II • . 201 ^ , . 181 yof . . 187 , , . 374 , , . 007 , , . 009 , , . Oil . 48 ■ • • . 109 * > • . 297 • * • . 302 , , . rm , , . 248 . . 327 cture of . . 331 . • • . 233 • • ( . 233 • • • . 233 , , . 218 ey . . 233 . 19 * « . 002 JOf . . 97 , , . 90 • • ■ . 101 eslcy and t ■ * . 98 chcB . 200 • ■ • . 202 • • • . 580 • • • . 580 • • t . 731 ■ • • . 731 • • • . 582 • • • . 79 , , . 79 • • • . 271 . . 174 VlcCabe . . 090 , , . 597 • • • 599 • • . 599 , . 000 • ( 1 . 005 ^ . 006 . 610 tiool hi . 611 • • . 818 • • . 468 he . . . 551 , ^ . 443 , view of . 626 • • • . 552 osee . . 552 cture of . 553 • • « . 555 ■ • . 565 jf . . 555 . 560 , , . 566 i;miiiiijjHin of Infant Dnptism Inll(l(!lity, Spread of Ireland, 'Methodism, lit prof^reMs ill ... (■enniiiiH in . . . WenleyV larewcll (o pietun Irinli I'ri^at'herH in l\i!j;lan(l . Irir*!! Kini^'ratidM .... IrviiifX, Mertlett, Mary (Ilu Sung Kua Itinerancy, Thu / . . . origin of thu h<)rr(i 790 790 791 791 705 705 32H 183 184 711 741 741 028 343 22.S 271 754 755 755 759 7.59 759 "59 7.50 473 374 Kentucky, .Vsburvin Thos. Scott ill ... I first eaiiip-iiieetiiisr in. with pietun llrstchiireliiii. with picture . I'resbyteiiai, in ... Key. Bishop. I. S., Sketch with portrait advocates holiness Kidder. I). I'.. I'oitniit and Sketdi of Kilhani. Alexander trial (>(.... result of . . . . . portrait of ... founds a sect .... Kilpatrick. Miss Margaret, in Alrica Khig, .John. Sketch of . preaching in Biiltiinore, view of at St. Paul's .... Kings'ey, Bishop Calvin portrait of .... call of edits Western Christian .Vdvociite deatli of Kingswood engraving of school at Kingston. View of .... Kleptomaniac, ( 'onversion of Knox. ,lohii, portrait of Koran, The Luity, The Lall, Chimman .... Lall Bairh home, view of Lanna, Dr., with portrait Law. .Methodism's elfects on delays of, in J!:ni:land Larssoii Lay Delegation .... Lay Bepresentatioii delegates at conference in IKHs feeling against .... Lay KvaiiL'elists .... Lay Colletre of Dr. TalmaL'e . Leatherhead, with i)ictiiri' Lee, Jesse, Sketch and labors of . invades Maine .... Baptist and .... monument to, iiicture of . Lee's Chapel Lee, Wilson. Conversion of . Lee, Thomas Lee. .lasoii . . . . . Legal iliindred. The Legislation and IVagi^ . Le Suer Lcvings, Noah ... Libby Prison. Chaplain McCabe at Liberia. Methodism in . e.xient of heathenism of .... various missions in . Seys in conversion in .... annual eonterence in Light Street Church. Burning of . picture of old .... Lincoln, .\brahain. Portrait of and Methodism Methodist suiijport of Lincoln College, \ lew of Li<|Uor trallic deiiouncccl Litenitiire, feeble, against Evil Condition oi, at Wesley's death Methodist Livingstone, David, and portrait of Liverpool. View of .... Livesey, Joseph, I'ortrait of . Loan Fund I.,ocal Ministry .... London Missionary Society . London I'niversity .... London (Quarterly Keview London, view of from Moorlields . misery of I'.Vi.K . 14;{ . H4 . 44ii . 447 . 4.53 . 7»'4 . 7f4 . I'.Jl . Wi . '^84 . •JH5 . ■^ . i!-.9 . 715 . 711! . 7 It'. . 7 in . 717 ■X4, 2>C} . 'JI'kI . ;!2i . ('.'24 . 46 . '.'H.j . 'JSti . llO'i . (i03 . I'.fl . '214 . 'Jia . 037 519 5'J5 H19 -.10, . 3.59 . 7H(i . '230 . :!57 . 431 . 400 . 479 . 4.'H . 4;js . lli9 . 527 •255, 302 . ,509 . '274 . 4H6 . i\m . 5t!5 . ,501 . 501 . 50'2 . 504 . 5l!5 . .*)t;5 . 4V2 541 710 540 49 404 19 203 «iH7 •249 1(15 300 '20'2 •201 '249 340 t'liiS 71 •210 VIII INUKX. M.l^ * • !^;'t , 'i'( W*' Loiulon, WphIuv vlsitu Iioiihch of . I,<»^,' Mft'tiiij; lIuiiHi! L#niH hook concern in . . . Lall l^hop H.N. sketch and portrait editH New Orleans Christian Advocate . and Vanderbilt writing's of .... Medical Itinerant .... Melaucton, portrait of Men of Jieason and Heligion, Wesley's Appeal to . . . Merrill, Hishop Stephen M., sketch of portrait ot I'AOK 1.A0K .210 Merrill, Bishop Stephen M., nttainmentH of 728 . 3")r> edits Western Christian Advocate . .72a . 2(>2 Methodism, what it is 17 .402 the time in which it arose ... 17 . 6")l Soutliey's opinion of .... is . «0H iiteratun^ of tlie times of ... 19 . 447 arose andd corruption . . . . IH . .'>04 truly beirins bt . ")3H birth year of 7"i . W>4 headway' ot 83 . 87 calumnies circulated about . . . 121 . ti(14 live points ol I'J'J . 3(>7 liopesio blend Willi Established Churcli l.")C . 4Ha llrst ttMi years of Lio . tiOl next ti'ii years of Kiit . «02 lufiuence on Welsli morals . . KH . (■.02 eviction of 107 . (i02 national intUience ot .... 203 . tS02 amazing growth of 229 . 003 tlnancial system ol . . . . 230 . 010 oDlcial sys'teni of 2.')0 . 4") doctrines of . . . . . 271 . :t27 still cluiiK to State Church . . .29.5 . Ctlft overthrow of, attempted .... 310 . 207 tlie women of ... . . 289 . 170 itineracy of 2.57 . 21.5 defections from 2.50 . 2.5.5 malcontents of 260 . 004 the nobility and 203 . 004 spreads into oilier lands .... 27U . 737 amoiif.,' tlie islands 275 . 73 helps to freedmen 077 . 445 separation of Cliurch South . . . 538 . 444 work in China 586 . 444 enters the South again .... 041 . 430 reconciliation witli Cliurch South . . 542 . 406 union desirable 548 . 511 Indian membership 555 . 433 benevolences of 085 • 512 doine.-tic intliience of .... 089 . 501 tutuie, prospects of .... 816 .501 Methodist Episcopal Church Soutli . .535 . .501 causes of separation .... 536 . SOI I'laii of Si^paration 638 . 501 Supreme Court decision .... 539 . 311 loss of colored members .... 540 758 Coiilerenceot 1870 543 758 border troubles and war record of . 540 758 reconciliation .542 758 relation of, to the negroes . . . 540 455 union with, desirable .... 548 45 missions of .549 statistics, 18S4 650 130 Foreign Missions 0h7 723 outgrowtli of 4.58 723 looting in Marvland ..... 308 -i). kill' ,{.,•/;> ^^.^l I'AOB , nttainmcntti of 728 Advocatf . 7L>3 . . 17 Hi! . 17 , . IS f . 19 . IH • • ST , ^ '. Ha out . . rji , . IT.) ibliKht'd CI lurch mo • • . ir,G , , . Ki!) uIh . UA , , . I(i7 . . 203 • . 229 , . 230 . 'Joli . 271 ;h . . 29". . 31(i . . 2H» , . 257 . 2r)« , . 26(> . 203 . . 27;t . 27fi • • -15 in Amcric . 277 a . 404 , . 301 11 . 371 ulutiun . 379 , , . 4U3 . . 404 I of Kiigia id . 410 . . 411 • ■ . . 412 )f the . 413 • ■ . 415 ury . 419 gluud . 429 • ■ > . 432 iijida . 44S 1 . 461 . . 471 • • . 4«1 nidation . . 508 • • . 509 itatioii of . 510 1 . 514 untation . . 522 . 005 • • . 077 ith . . 538 • • . . 586 • • • . 541 h South . . 542 • . . 548 • ■ . . 555 . . 685 . . 689 . . 816 South . 535 , , . 530 • . 538 t . 639 ■ ■ . 540 . 543 record of . 540 • * . 542 i . 640 . 548 . 549 ■ . • . 650 » . Ch7 . 458 . 308 M. E. rhurch Houth, flrHt Sunday S( hoo apontatcicH from swri't wocietii'w and . iitti'iiiptH at ruunioii . failuni of . rijiid rules of , Hook ConciTn, picture ol and Mexico M.tliodJHt Church. The . eauHi!8 of Kcccdiiif; by, et<'. MethodiHt I'rolc'stant Cliurcli dilfcrw from M. E. Churcli ftatihiticM of, in 1834 . abxorim tlu! MethodiHt ('liurcli HtatisticH of, in 1880 . abolitilu'M l)iHhop8 privat(! opinioiiH allowable cHtablinheH a book concern orpni of . M<'(hodint I'Voe (linrch . clini;^eot orttaiii/iitioii . doctrinesol dinciplineof iiiodel of .... I'eriodicalc of . Methodist literature MctliodiHt benevolenrcs . Methodist N•<'■' rnlliirian training ot 522 as a salesnmii .... ,522 begins on newsboys 4'51 mid the priest .... •''72 and the iiierchant OHS builds a chureli 401 In Kurope 521 taberniiele of .... 517 uses barren land . . . , 519 M(Mirllelds. Whitelh'id's greatest day at .V.'O .Moore, Henry " 521 is refused ordination 523 ordained iiv Wesley 519 subject to Indignities 520 Moravians .120 historical sketch of . .")2U direct the Wesleys to salvation 317 becoming (luietest* . 05'.» Morris, Hislio|) 'I'lioinas .\., and .\xley 0.19 sketch ol, with portrait . 002 Morrison, 'I'lanslalor, View ol at work 002 .Mormons, .Metliodism among t lie . 002 temple ot and .\sl)uiy .... 473 and MethodiMii 408 Negroes, lh>t licensed to preach . 428 teaching little, picture of 5H9 Nelson, .loliii 010 refuses to \york on Sunday 800 |)ortrait ol . 2T0 picking berries lor food . •244 jiersecuti d .... 029 in the army .... 20 mobbed at "ilillerent places 225 preaches lirst lay sermon 319 death of 228 Newburyport, Whitetield's tomb at 001 Newcastle, view ot .... 228 NewcastU; Orphan House ."iSO view ol, old .... »!10 view lit new Orphan House at 7-19 Newgate Jail 720 view of 4'iO Wesley preaching in 43ti Newman, Ihshoi). with portrait . .ti;9 cliaplain in t. S. Seiiati' . 49.> in consular service . 114 in congregational church 115 lioiiie of 123 Newton, Hobcrt .... 135 liirth place, view of . 144 jiortrait of 145 ability and labors of 14t'i burial |)liice of . 109 Newton, Joliii, with portrait . 2.''i0 New Orleans. Sundays in 550 persecutions .... (')48 New Orplian House 1)30 New ICngland, HeL'innings in 38 New Kngland, ( 'alviiiistic struggle in 508 ))ersecutii)n of Metliodists in . 022 tirst acideinv in ... IX I'AliK 120 779 779 779 779 780 THO 7M) 781 781 7.S2 93 228 228 ■JJH 22H 53 59 01 78 4'.I8 .-.02 2.n r..-.8 n.-i8 5.58 .-.V.) .'i.V.I ■)00 3011 1311 ■ 2tl',l 20'.l 210 517 5s0 5s0 349 512 (i52 652 327 768 451 476 • 47t. 678 104 107 106 116 123 123 134 136 220 lh3 82 210 86 26.5 216 21T 219 742 742 742 742 743 300 299 800 - 800 801 199 504 5114 265 426 441 463 490 IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) h A 4. V A/ 1.0 I.I !fiM i||M :!: I4£ 12.0 IL25 i 1.4 1.6 V <^ /: Photographic Sciences Corporation iV V ■^ :\ \ 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 872-4503 ^ o\ INDEX. New Haven, Methodism in New Jersey, Methodism ill . first Conference ill . Al)l)ottin .... New Heliool Methodism New Kouth Wales .... New Wesleyiin Missionary Society New Yorli, Methodism . b()ol< concern removed to New Zealand Ninde, W. X., Bishop, Sltetch of . portrait of .... as a speaker .... as a professor .... Nolley, KichiMond .... suffers and dies intheSoutli .... and the Indian .... Normal School, view of . Northwestern Territory, Methodism in Northwestern Advocate Northwestern University, with view North, Lord, portrait of North Carolina, First Conference of Nova Scotia Nova Scotia, Preacliers sent to Norway, Methodism in . Nyuee, Tal., view of . . . outrages in .... Obituaries, Old Style of . Ocean (irove, history of pilgrim pathway, view of view from the sea Auditorium at, view of . Sweet IJome Cottages Oglethorpe, (ieneral James, portrait of forbids slavery .... Offerincs, Free .... Ohio, Methodists in . . . small beginnings in . first meeting house in, picture of Wesleyan University in . O'Kelley's Bchlsm .... Oldham, W. T. and Jlrs. Olin, Stephen Olivers, John Olivers, Thomas .... Oliver, arrest of ... . driven to despair attempts suicide escapes from home ■ Oneida Indians, The Onondaga Indians .... Opinions and Economics Ordinances optional Oregon, Beginnings in . . Manual Labor School Orphan House, with picture . . 80 Wesley's study in. with cut Otterbein and Asbury . Otterbein, Death of . . . portrait of .... Ousley, Gideon, and picture of preaching Owen, Richard .... Oxford, view of city Infidelity ill University of the Wesleys at . students e.vnelled from . Uichard Hills defense of Pacific Coast, Methodism enters . from St. Louis .... Bishop Taylor on . . first Protestant Church, with pictii Pagans, conversion of . . . Pagoda, altar of, Chinese Pagodas, exterior views of . Paine's, Tom, Age ot Heason, and portrait Paine, Bishop Robert, sketch and portrait Paley, Wm, portrait of . Parker, Bishop L., sketch and portrait edits New Orleans Christian Advocate death of 210, I'AGK . 427 , 4T0 , 4.'5 , H98 , 600 , 2&T . 459 470 aii^ TM 734 734 735 474 ,'-.07 507 507 338 445 5'JO ma 213 4'10 3-2S 411 63(5 598 599 L'L>4 609 810 811 812 813 51 194 345 435 447 523 694 432 017 473 214 383 215 214 214 214 550 557 153 412 520 527 264 lii9 377 478 378 312 355 40 47 49 185 189 525 527 628 529 605 320 617 281 752 89 761 701 762 Patrick, John Pauline Ideal Pawnees, Methodism among . Payne, Bishop, 1). A., iiortrait and ske Peck, liishop, sketch of . portrait of President of Syracuse University goes to California and University ot California . Pekin. China, and view of Pennsylvania, Beginnings in Perfection, Cliristian Periodicals, Methodist . Perry Hall chdiiires nt .... Perronet. portrait of . . . Petersen, O. P., with portrait Pewed churches, Beginnings of . reasons tor and against , condemned . . Philadeli)hia, Methodism carried in first churcli in . Webb in growth of Methodism i.i first conference Philander Smith College Philanthropy of Methodism . Physical elfects .... Pickering. George .... Pierce, Bishop George F., Sketch ot portrait of .... prospects in law great address of ... Pierce, Lovick .... PAGE tch portrait of ... Pierce, Tieddick portrait ot ... Pierce, (i. M Pierce Chapel .... Pllmoor, Joseph. Sketch and labors ot becomes Episcopalian portrait of ... Pioneer, the frozen Pioneer Principal, the Pitman, Charles Pittsburg district . Plan of Pacification Plan of Separation . Polity discussed Portland Chapel Pointer, Jonathan . Poles, North and South reached Poet. Laureate of Christianity Poncas, Methodism among . Prayer, Extemporaneous, oegun frozen at, picture of . Preachers term extended Preacher, the i oldier Preachers, indignities to sons of care of . duties of fixed . Presiding Elders term extended . the first .... proposed modifications concerning Presbytery, The .... Primitive Methodists Primitive Methodists of Ireland Prisoners, Suffering of in England work among .... Protestant Methodist Church Protestant Episcopal Cliurch, First, in America .... Punch, " de ole Bushup " Punclioii, Wm. Morley. i)ortrait of Pueblo, First Protestant eltorts in (Quadruple AlliaiiC(( Quarterly meeting . origin of ... . Quarterly Conference all converted at (^Miartette Singing ojiposi d . INDEX. XI • • . 'J-.M . C15 oiiK . . 553 irtrait and skc tch . 769 • • . 72V • . 727 3 University . 700 , . 728 ilornia . . 728 f . . 588 sin . ;i98 . . 271 . . Gti8 , . 380 , . 478 , . 139 trait . 63e n^8 of . , 490 St . . G03 , . . 512 carried in . 352 , . . 353 . 353 I.i . 3(ia , . 371 . . 681 ni . . 202 , . 112 , . 436 Sketch of . 753 , . 753 • . 753 . 754 . . 474 . 472 . 475 . 473 . 2()0 , . 474 ind labors of . 361 . . 372 . 363 • . 450 . 747 . 683 . 465 . . 28« . 538 . 282 . . 373 , . 508 ached . . 658 nity . 241 jf . . 755 heguii . . 61 .1 . 450 . . 820 . . 182 • . 4 . 195 . 264 , . 4i:t . 469 • . 820 • * . . 472 8 concerning . 517 . . -404 , . 308 eland . ;ni Kngland . 218 , . 276 ch . 441 ch, First, ill , , . 407 , . . 452 rtrait of . 345 lortH in . 031 • • . . 185 • . 417 . . 257 . 416 • . . 453 . . C64 Quebec, Webb wounded at . (^uiun, Tlioinas .... Quinn, lip. Wm. P., sketcli and portrait Itabler, Jolin liaikes, Kobert, witli portrait Kam Ch under I3o»e, witii portrait liangooii. Judxon's Minsion at Kandolpli Macon College founded Kankiii, Thomas .... later experiences of . portrait of Havi, Conversion of ... enters Naples .... llebellion, Methodists and the Christian Slaves and Reading, picture of boy after Kedfern, Mary .... Kegsneration Itegimental Musicians, The three . Keiormers, The Great . Keid, John M., Missionary Secietary portrait of Revival in 1814 .... " Reverend " rejected Revolution. The, Methodism during the course of Asbury during . Wesley's advice during . ' . like Methodism Methodism increases during. Rhinebeck, Church and Academy at of Rhode Island Rich, Isaac, with portrait Richmond, Leigh .... portrait of Richmond Institute, with picture ot Rigg, James H., with i)oi'trait Rigging-loft, The old, with picture Itecoines too small . Roberts, Bishop Robert R. . portrait ot Roberts, Bishop B. T., with portrait Robertson, Nathan .... Roberts, William .... Roberts, President of Liberia view of house of . . . false charges against Roberts, Bishop John W., sketch and por Robber, Conversion of a Rodda, Martin .... involved in politics . Rogers, James .... Rogers, Hester Ann, with portrait Romaine, Thomas .... Rome entered first Protestant Church in, view of view of cemetery in . Romanist converted Wesley dines witli an " Roman Holiday " of England Roof, Festival of ... . Rowlands, Daniel .... Rudd, Lady, Portrait of . Ruff, Daniel Russell, James .... Russia, picture of first church m . Rutcr, Martin Ryan, Sarah Ryland, James .... influence in the South Peer of Irish orators Chapel of Sacraments Discussions .... Salt Lake City, with view of church Mormon Tabernacle, picture of Samoans refusing to fight, picture of Sanctification Sands, Stephen .... Sankcy, Ira D Life and labors of portrait of ..... inEuK'p'i View ;i.jl 403 708 445 2()() 616 228 475 381 292 368 (142 644 541 540 667 297 271 350 45 (184 686 305 2H3 373 384 385 385 386 393 442 441 264 277 316 342 3,52 351 466 466 660 467 527 569 568 569 ■trait 754 . 261 . 384 . 384 . 223 . 290 . 186 . 641 . 043 . 634 . 2.50 . 235 . 218 . 644 . 198 . 30 . 376 . 473 . 649 . 490 . 240 . 455 . 454 . 454 . 454 . 4«3 . 283 . 5.58 . 55!) 332 /271 408 780 780 781 1.5: Sankey, Ira D., at Dublin in London in lidiiibuigh . in ShefUeld .... San Francisco, ReginniiiL's in view of in lb5u .... lirst church, with picture Japanese mission, with picture Jai)anese class, with iiortiaits Chinese in Chinese Mission, with picture Saratoga Savannah, First class in Memorial Church in, picture ot Whitefleld's Ori)han House in view of Scandinavia, Methodisni in . Scillv Isles Scotland, Whitefield in . John Wesley in ... Scott, Jonathan .... Scott, Thomas, with portrait . Scott, Bishop Levi, visit to Africa sketch of loves music .... conversion of ... . courage ot .... portrait of .... Secret Societies condemned . Selina, Countess, portrait of . Sellon, portrait of . Senegainbia Seneca Mission, view of . Senora de Norhona Seoul, Corea, view of . . . Separation, VVesley's view s on Seys, John, Labors in All ica has trouble with the governoi Shadtord athlete of the town . leaves Asbury .... Shanghai, Universitv at . Sheftield ..'.... mob at Wesley College at . view of College view of the town Shinn, Asa founds a Church Sliip Preaching, view of . Shirley, Walter .... ridiculous charge agaiust Shoreham Church, engraving of . Shorter, Bishop, J. A., sketch and portrait Sia Sek Oiig, witli portrait Sierra Leone .... Sikhs Simpson, Bishop Matthew, as preacher sketch of portrait of practices medicine . edits Christian Advocate . oratory of portrait in later years Infirmity ot .... Sims, C. N., portrait of . Six Nations, the, Methodism among Slavery, First public utterance agamst first mob at Charleston . trial of Jacob Ciruber some progress made against . forbitulen by Discipline in 1808 condemned "by Jarrett Asbury's influence against Washington and Coke confer about nropositioiiH from the South against Metliodism's attitude Oglethorpe forbids . Cowper's stanza on . Slavei-y, picture of slave ship Small, Sam, Life and labors . portrait of . . . 817 PAGE . 781 . 781 . 781 . 781 . 62'.» . 524 . .29 . r>m . ->M . .")33 . 578 . Ml . 472 . .iM . I'.ri . 180 . 635 . 27'J . i)3 . 164 . 182 . 444 . 570 . 708 . 707 . 707 . 708 . 708 . 5:itt . 96 . 186 . :i28 . 556 . 627 . 595 . 225 . 563 . 567 . ,i6i) . 369 . 388 . (!.S8 . 112 . 114 . 337 . 341 . 113 . 465 . 466 . 633 . 185 . 186 159 770 584 . 328 . 51)9 . 708 . 709 . 709 . 708 . 708 . 708 . 710 . 710 . 700 . 536 . 402 . 454 . 481 . 513 . 536 . 420 . 120 . 121 . 469 . 11)4 . 194 . 194 792 7B8 xu INDEX. Smith, James Smith, I'hilaiidcn-, Hospital, Nankin, viow Hiblical Institute, Toiiio, with view Smith, Thomasi, Trayin}; challenge ot at Lyons, N. Y. Smythe, Edward Snethen, NichoUis . portrait of ... "Soldiers of Christ" Soule, Joshua, with portrait . organized Missionary Society South Carolina, Conference formed in book concern of Sonth Leiyh Church, picture of Southern Organizations . h'opcts of union of Southey's, The J'oet, predictions portrait of . South America, Wesjej-ans in Methodism in . South Seas, VVesleyans in Spanj^enburg .... Spanish America, Methodism in Spiritual J)ecadence Spirits, Strange notions concernint Spicer, Tobias, in Troy . Standing Order Stanley, II. M., with portrait . Staiiiforth, Sampson State Church and Methodism Statistics, at Wesley's death . in 1805 .... inlSI.-) .... English centenary . atAsbury'scoming . at First conference, 177;t . at beginning of M. E. Church at beginning In 1?0'2 at beginning in 1700 of Sunday-school, 1880 . educational, of Church South of Missionary Society of M. E. Sunday-school Union of Sunday-schools . Stateii Island. Beginnings in . Staunton, Miss, dies in Africa Sterling, James Stevenson, Geo. Jnc, portrait in group Stewart, John .... among the Indians . Stockton, Kev. F. 11., with portrait Stokes, Dr. E. H. . Strangers Society Straw^jcrry Alley Strawbridge, Robert, '^vith portrait administers sacraments independently St. George's Church, Philadelphia view of St. Giles, view of . . . St. (Jiles portrait of Wesley preaching at St. Ives, Mob at, with view of St. KarthoiomewB, i)icture of St. Louis, Taking .... Romanism in ... . view of third church in ... Japanese Mission in Class of St, Mary's Church, Islington, view of St. Paul's Church, N. Y. City, picture of St. Vincent's, view of Kingston, . Succession, Apostolic, A fable Summerfleld, John .... Summers, T. O., I). D., with portrait Sunday-school, First, in America . Sunday-school Instruction . Sunday-school Union Sunday-schools .... Sunday-school Army Sun, worship of, view of Sun, Land of the Midnight . I'AGE 4r)5 .585 594 4.-)6 480 22'> 442 4a7 374 440 C83 485 485 53 54H 348 304 287 321 619 340 53 Cli) '^24 OOii 486 440 502 132 5J02 345 301 305 345 366 371 419 432 450 071 681 684 687 090 3(!5 570 396 212 508 085 518 813 202 300 .=555 350 305 359 28 232 230 115 272 408 495 490 529 530 531 65 354 ;t2i 408 674 701 430 797 671 265 266 626 636 PAOK . 188 . 161 . 486 . 666 . 279 . 144 . 609 . 638 . 039 . 052 . 084 . 119 . 247 . 780- . 327 . 483 . 775 . 341 . 333 . 490 . 490 . 529 . 529 . 572 . 746 . 613 746 . 749 . 706 . 81 . 333 . 306 . 303 . 424 . 512 . 522 . 820 . 472 . 411 . 584 . 714 portrait of 714 Surrey Chapel, with view of Surgeon, A, turns preacher Susquehanna. Valley of . Suttee, the, of India Sutcliffe, Joseph "Swaddlers" . Swain, Carrie M.. in India, with portrait Sweden, Methodism in . Swedish M. K. Church formed Swahlen, John .... Syracuse University, View ot Table, Wesley's, Engraving of Tahiti . . . . . Talmage's Lay College . Tambiran Aruniays Taney, Roger U., defends Gruber . Tanner, Bishop B. T., and portrait Taunton College, with picture Taraia, the savage, portrait . Taylor, Edward T., (Father) Labors of portrait of Taylor, Bishop William in California, '49 in Africa, '5s . fiortrait of . . . ■ . n India, '70 ... . sketch and present labors of . Taylor, .\nnie. Gospel steamer named Teachers Institutes at Chaiitau(iua Tea Pot given to Wesley Te Kote, the ( hristiau, portrait of Teetotaler, The first Teignmouth, Lord, with jiortrait, . Tennessee, First Conference in Temperance Legislation objections to . Terms of preachers extended Theater, Burning of . . . Thirty-Nine Articles. The Thomson, Bishop Ed. T., in China sketch and present labors of Thomas, D. W 613 Thorp. John 136 Thornton, John .200 Thornton, Henry, Home of ... . 202 Thompfion, Thomas ... . 305 Thakombau 344 Theological Schools 341 Thobuni, Bishop J. M 613 portrait ot 749 Thoburn, Isabel, with portrait . .618 Thurman's Patent, Martyrs in . . . 459 Thurles, iiicture of chapel at . . .160 Tiona-A llok 817 Tiffin, Edward 444 Tieg, Ang . .578 Tokio, Universitv 595 Toi)lady 442 iiortrait of 189 Tokl, Silas 210 Toleration Act 305 Tongas 329 Jubilee at 329 first mission house at, picture of . . 334 Torrcy, Alvln 5.56 Toronto, view of Metropolitan Church . . 821 Trimble, Jane 492 Travis, John ....... 494 Tract Society ....... 349 'Treveccd College, with picture of . . 100 first anniversary 186 festival at 191 commencements at 191 Trimble, Jos. M., with portrait . . 494 Trinity Hall School, with picture of . . 340 Turner, Bishop II. M., sketch and portrait . 772 United Brethren 478 United States Man-of-war captures slave ship 570 Unit of Methodiem, The . . . . 666 Uniuiza 625 Usage, Some changes of . , , . 666 Ii view of . jreacher . By of . n India, with poitiait rch formed ', View of igraviiig of ;ge . fends Gruber ." r., and portrait th picture portrait . (Father) Labors of iam mt labors of . el steamer named it Chautauqua slcy in/portrait of vith portrait, . ference in ion . . ] xtended . '. The ; ; ■ . T., in China It labors of . me of [. . portrait irtyrs in fipel at at, picture of ipolltan Church picture of . [ portrait th picture of . sketch and portrait . nr captures slave ship l! .... PAOK . 188 . 161 . 486 . 066 . 279 . lU . 609 . 638 . 639 . 652 . 684 . 119 . 247 . 786 . 327 . 48» . 77.5 . 341 . 333 . 490 . 490 . 529 . 529 . 572 . 746 . 613 746 . 749 . 796 . 81 . 333 . 306 . 303 . 424 . 512 . 522 . S20 . 472 . 411 . 584 . 714 . 714 . 613 . 136 . 200 . 202 . 305 . 344 . 341 . 013 . 749 , 618 . 459 . 160 . 817 . 444 . 578 . 595 . 442 . 189 . 210 . 305 , 329 . 329 334 556 S21 492 494 349 100 ]85 191 191 494 340 772 478 570 665 625 666 IXDKX. Mil 1'\<;k I'.M.K Van Cbtt, Tilr. Ma^ZL'ic, portrait and Kkctch in liaxter St., New York Vaiulcrbilt rnivcrsity .... view of liu (lifts ol Vaudei-bilt, Coriu portrait of Van l'(!lt, I'eter Vauiiesi, I'cter Vassey, Thomas Vavaii Venice, ^Methodism in . Veini, Henry Vernon, Leroy >!., with portrait . Vincent, John 11.. S. S. work ot . Chantau(iua work of ... portrait of residence of Vicious, tile Methodisms work amonj; the Vine, Wesley's at Oxford, picture . Virginia, Ilegiiiuing in . William Watters in . great revival in 177.') Yeargon's Chapel built . Asbnry in clertiyinen hostile in ... cliureh in the wilderness, picture ot first circuit in Visitors to American Methodism . Vi/elle, Mrs., Wife of -John Wesley . Voltaire's Boast Walden, Bishop J. M., sketch and portrait Walker, Jesse hardships of menial tasks of .... and the episcopalian Wallact^'ollege .... Walsh, Thomas .... Wales Warren's (Irand ('entral Association . . :!17 Watch-night, The lirst 67 ■Waters, bishop Ed., sketch and portrait . 767 Watts, Isaac, portrait of '.20 Watson, Kichard, with portrait . . 286, 315 Warren, Samuel, with portrait . . . 317 Ware, Thomas, with pevtrait . . . 434 Ward. Bishop T. M. I)., sketch and portrait 771 Wanderlich •"'•W Warren, Bishop II. W., sketch and portrait 728 Warren, William, Mention of . . . 655 Watters, William ;<"'- labors of "92 Washinirton, George, First contact witli Methodism, and portrait of . . . 197 portrait of, ia mature years . . . 4'21 and Coke •*'-! Meitiodist address to .... 431 Wautrh, Bishop Beverly, sketch and portrait 476 Wavman, Bisliop A. W., sketch and portrait 769 T8;t ))47 .-.47 097 .-.48 :!6(i 4S6 4(i.-i ;!26 044 177 0:i9 073 79.-) 7:t9 740 ■210 125 K57 374 374 ;i79 3«4 4.53 374 3.-)7 316 173 51 395 491 . 49". . 497 . 4r.7 . iy.u 14S, 161 . 204 Webb, Captiiin, sketch and labors of carries Methodism to Philadelphia portrait of goes to England for preacliers conducting iH-rvice, picture of old age and deatli ot ... Wellington, Duke ot, portrait Weslev, Bartholomew .... Wesley, Charles, portrait of . offer of adoption by Hichard Wesley personal description oi . mission to (ieorgia Indians helps form the Holy Club conversion ot autograph music of, cut of pniaches nt Newcastle mobbed at Shettield liersecnted in Wales marries Miss Owynnc labors in Wales , , . . poetical genius of ... . death ot review of life of .... In advance of John .... 351 354 355 368 373 3T2 43 22 4'2 41 4'1 53 49 62 79 85 114 138 139 139 270 •241 242 '24'> Wesl ho'd- mc<'t!i:'^ in cluirch ley, ( hiirle \unn> view 1)1 tomb in issv is a high cliun'h m,in authoriif six tliou^iiiHl ih.'iii~ picture oi son ;it liMipsiclioid . |)icture ot cliurcli wln're married . i)oftrair ot in group .... Wesley, .lolni. poitr.iits of. irontispiect cscapo burniiiL'. i)ictnrrot recovt'rs trom small-po.v .... per'.^oiiiil (Icj-ciiplion ot' .... enters Charter House SeliDol . miixim 1)1 liteat Oxloi'd scliolarsliip ot invited TO pastorate ;if l')i)worlli mission to (Georgia Indians the conversion oi early rellLrious relU'ctions of . ejected Irom eluirch at IsiiiiL'ton siinpie stock ot theoloL'v ol . tests lor self examinations pictiin; ot his tcai.ot .... and Heau Nash, with cut preaches at lather's tomb, with cut dillers in (loetrnie with Wliitelield geinus lor statmeiiship (lisplayes . 277 . 4()i 44, 1(12 . 37 . 39 , 44 . 41) , 49 I'J . 49 . .-12 --'2 '. 54 . :>s . I'i5 . 65 . 66 . 81 . 76 . K4 . 88 . 1(19 . 126 372 385 392 407 VO 31 ;io 44 .-.3 (•i2 ('4 89 102 95 116 118 110 120 125 129 140 149 I,-,9 101 164 167 173 173 173 190 206 20 i 208 268 2US 213 121 220 229 229 2:;2 233 233 235 235 236 239 239 253 267 267 210, ii\ ^: I J-vJ it i XIV Wesley, Jolin .1)Ook room tract society (•(liiciitioiiai work ol' and Wilbcrlorcf, I'li^'raviiii; of tli(^ most persecuted and honored in J'jii;laiilucational Work . Missionary Hociely, work of repository Westley and the JJishop, picture oi; White ihurcli, Wiiiterbouriie, view ot . Wesleyan Connection, The . Methodism jjrows .... Wesleyan I'liiversity, Middletown Wesleyan I'nivt'rsify, Delaware, Ohio . vii'w ol . . . . ■ . Wesley, ISlattliew Wesley, Saintiel, portrait ot . picture of loml) ol, restored . Wesley, !>amu(^l, Jr., portrait ot . WesleV, Susaima 29 the mother of Methodism care ol home traininir ol children .... holds home meetings (h'atli of, and picture of grave . Wesleyan Jlyinns and Sacred I'oems . Western Christian Advocate . Westminster Abb >y, with engraving . monument to VVesleyanisin . _ . M'esleyan Normal School at, with picture 339, Western WescM-ve, Methodism in the Whatcoat. HishopKichard . . . . death ot portrait of Wheelimr. First (ierman .Methodist Church built at White, Thomas White. M. C. and Mrs., go to China Whitelield, (ieorge. portraits of , . .")0, joins Holy Ciub .... 'AGE 2(i8 ■.'()9 :):i9 201 ■JOG •->;«) s.u 23(1 2.'-.3 2.59 274 207 2t!s 20« 20tj 2;il 2«0 2;i2 ■2:v> 2;i7 2U,'5 2;t5 ■IV, 2;iH 23(1 2:i2 2.V2 2(19 2(;:! 8IS S19 820 21 'J 2,37 2:hi 1(1.-) 2.->l lild 40.; ;tr>:i :ui 301 ;t:n r)i7 22 ■s.i ,5:t.-> 221 (;9.-) (i9."i (i9(; 24 24 8,-> 34 10.5 27 28 28 33 104 271 502 124 120 341 491 40.5 ;511 40(1 :t7.5 378 575 I, 5.5 50 Whiteflold George, vicious youth of . inissio.i to (ieorgiii .... convcM'siou and ordination of . tannvell meetings in Hristol and London expelled from < liurches . begins open air preacliing pictures ot open air iireachiiiL' . wonderlul ellects ol the preaching of umong the Weish . . , . I 'turns to t,ondon .... Hcparation ol t(air ill America .... rtillers in doctrine with Wesley cut of Tabernacle .... labors in Scotland .... triumph at Moorllelds jiniong the aristocracy again in America .... picture of him j)reaching preaches during earthquake in [..ondoii makes last toi'r of (ireat Uritain picture of Ori/cian House wearied bv iiopularify worn out 1)y service .... statue of Ills letter to John Wesley last days ill America last sermon and death, with iiicture lilaco ot burial and tomb, with picture disposition of his pro|)erty and slaves Whitelield Orphan House Wiclill, John ])., jiortrait of . . . 1.5 Wightman, Hishop W. M. . portrait ol Wilbraliam, Conference at Wesleyan Academy at, with iiieture Wilbertor(;e Tniversitv, with picture . Wilberforce, William, portrait . . 194 Willmr, .l.n Wiley, Hishop and Mrs., in China liortrait ot death ot visit to Japan Mission sketch of Willard, Miss Frances K., with liortrait Williams, Itoberi. us Hook Concern John, with portrait .... William and Mary, with portraits Willamette Fniversity .... Wilkiiis, Ann, .viili ])ortrait . her sacrifices and death . Wilson, Hishop A. W., sketcli and portriut Wiiians, William, with portrait Witworth, Abraham, First apostate Witness of the Spirit .... W. F. M. Society in China and Japan . W. F. M. Society Woman's Home Missionary Society Women, some, ot Methodism Woolston. The Misses .... Wootol 1111(1 London ol in^' U'llillL' . 3 preucliin^ Wfslcv iiiikc in London t JSntain . ivitli pictnii' I), with pictnn rty and (flavui^ VM. rtitli ])ictiiri! Ii pictuiv . ait China ith portrait 'oncL'in traits ' ; "li and ))()i(rait ■ail ipostato nd Japan . Soc'iet.\- ;!i!;i i'A<;i; . *)0 . 54 5U 57 CO 57 08 119 C9 70 S3 88 90 '.•'2 93 9:t 99 l.JO 151 152 . 178 . 180 . 180 . 180 . ;i4t; . 1T9 . ISO . IS'J • . 183 . 194 . 435 15, 1S5 . 754 . 75il . 441 . 441 . 484 3-'3 558 th picture; t of TJl •J80 591 7-' I 785 37 i 357 •-'1 5'_>(! 5(u; 501! 700 500 371. 414 590 088 079 •iS'.l 581 340 4-)0 301 301 305 100 551 135 587 378 4(i(i 505 (.'09 00(> {iC9 009 59 507 570