*-*3jK£J • • -> MB mm cs*s aB|aa9W£»f ieneeit feife * + In tbe Mes 3ai«es S. jfMes iUn''l'i«liBWTilTrtiWmTTft fyjr %,M ik i 4UT0BI0GRAPHY REV. JAMES B. FINLEY PIONEER LIFE IN THE WEST /'JtplTJLfi- BY : . ,; '' W. P. STRICKLAND D. D. CINCINNATI : CRANSTON AND CURTS. NEW YORK: HUNT AND EATON. F- D PREFACE. Don't run; I shall not be long-winded. Jusi hold on a moment, as I have but few words to say. I always did despise long introductions to sermons, and scarcely ever listen to one with any degree of patience. I have an equal dislike to a long intro- duction to a book, and, hence, verbum sat. The following pages contain a brief, unvarnished narrative of the incidents of my life ; and as, in the providence of God, I was permitted to grow up with the west, it may not be uninteresting to the people of the west, to be made more fully acquainted with my somewhat eventful history. For upward of forty years I have been constantly engaged in preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ in the woods, cities, and villages of the west; and nearly all that time, with few exceptions, such as I have noted, my name has been on the effective list of traveling preachers. My time, with what talents I had, has all been consecrated to the Church of my choice, and now, after the lapse of almost half a century in the serv- ice of the Church, I would not recall what I have done and suffered for Christ's sake. The only regret that I have is, that I did not accomplish more. While the work was going through the press, I was engaged in the enterprise of building a new i*28838 4: PREFACE. churcn, the one occupied by my charge being too small. Part of my time has been employed in rais- ing funds for this object, and I am pledged to see this infant Church through its difficulties. The proceeds of this work, after paying the ex- penses of its publication, are to be appropriated to a benevolent object; and I trust it may meet with favor among the thousands of Christian friends with whom in life I have had pleasant communion, and with whom I hope to spend a happy eternity in the communings of a better world. J. B. FlNLEY Cincinnati, Ohio, May, 1863. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. His parentage — State and condition of the country at that day— Mis- sion of his father to North and South Carolina — Civil war — Tory party — Tory Major — Patriotic songs — Charles Wesley — His mother — Grand- mother — Excitement in the Presbyterian Church on Psalmody — Th# Methodist preacher — Emigration to Kentucky — Trip down the Ohio — Ef- forts by Indians to decoy the boats to shore — Fate of Rev. Mr. Tucker — Maysville — Death of his grandmother — Removal to Washington, Mason county, Kentucky — Simon Kenton — Girty — Kenton's conversion — Mode of administering justice — Stocton's Station — Visit of the Indians — Their depredations — Stratagem of his mother — Captain Cassady — Melancholy event — Early love of the chase — Wolves — Canebrake — My father's con- gregation — Opens a high school — Importance of education. •• -Pages 15-42 CHAPTER II. Backwoods character — Immigration — Hatred of the Indians — Army un- der Gen. Harmar — Spies — M'Arthur and Davis — Incidents — Thrilling ad- venture of two spies — Spies appointed by Gen. Wayne — Capt. W. Wells — Ex- traordinary feat — Dispatch to take an Indian prisoner — Adventure — Sin- gular recognition — Capture of a Potawatomie chief— An instance of hu- manity — Dispatch for another prisoner — A daring act — Wells and M'Clel- and wounded — Irving's account of M'Cleland — Anecdote of a trapper — > Pioneer bravery — The soldier-boy — Mrs. Hunter and the Indians.- ••43-68 CHAPTER III. Life in the backwoods — Food and dress — Cabins — Backwoods wedding — Hie Buffalo — Mode of catching — Mills of the early settlers — Game — The alk — Bear — Adventure with — The deer — The panther — The wolf—The coon — Sports with — The opossum — Hunter's life — Backwoods dress. -69-98 CHAPTER IV. The army of Wayne — Land Speculators in Kentucky— Col. Massie— Meeting at Manchester — Exploration of the Scioto country — Skirmish with the Indians — Another party — Cultivation of land on the Scioto — Town of Chilicothe laid out — Zane's trace — Remarks on progress — First wagon driven to Chilicothe — Beauty of Scioto bottoms — My first visit — Diseases of the country — Murder of an Indian — Robbery — The first hote! 5 6 CONTENTS. in ChiLcothe — First store — First physician — First ministers — First legis- lature — Court — Trial by jury — Emancipation of slaves — Trip to Ohio- Destination — Winter camps — Hardships — Indian Antidote — Fondness for Indian life — Early education — Study of medicine — Drove of cattle — Jour ney to Detroit — Hardships encountered. Pages 99-118 CHAPTER V. Backwoods biography — Captain Cassady — Taken prisoner by the Indt ans — Mercer Beason — Melancholy end — Bazil Williams — His fieetness— Duncan M'Arthur — His character as a spy — Responsible offices — John M'Donald — A brave man — Boys of those days — Horrible tragedy — M'Doiv- aid joins Wayne's army— Surveying tour — Encounter with Indians — Na- thaniel Massie's company — His character — Peter Lee — Nathaniel Beasly— William O'Banion. 119-134 CHAPTER VI. Tragical occurrence — Death of Capt. John Herrod — The cold-blooded murder of Wawilaway by Wolf — Death of Williams — Great excitement — Tecumseh — Council at Chilicothe — Peace restored — Trials of early set- tlers — Mr. Atkinson and family — House attacked by a bear — Brave con- duct of the daughter 135-146 CHAPTER VII. Return to personal narrative — Winter spent in hunting — Bear hunt — Holiday sports — Marriage and housekeeping — Farming — Hunting — Young folks of that day — Fashionable life — Rev. John Collins — Country schools — Sabbath-breaking — Bear hunt — Loss of property — Solitude of the wilder- ness — Adventure with a bear. 147-160 CHAPTER VIII. Early religious education — Catechetical instruction — Conversation with my father on election — Winchester's Dialogues — Presbyterian elder — Card- playing — Dancing — Great revival of religion in Kentucky — Meeting at Cane Ridge — Sensations produced — Conviction — Mayslick — Pious Ger- man — My conversion — Early experience — Persecution from the world — Exercises on the subject of preaching — Awful conclusion — Relapse into sin — Alarm and conviction occasioned by the accidental discharge of a gun 161-174 CHAPTER IX. Awful temptation — Russel's Seven Sermons — Methodist preaching — Class meeting — Reading the Scriptures, and prayer — Reclamation — Vows to God — Myself and wife join the Methodist Episcopal Church — Meeting at Fowler's — Exhortation — Advice of the pious, old German friend — Erect a meeting-house — Quarterly meeting at Hillsboro — Rev. John Sale — Called to exhort — An incident — Persecution and temptation — Exercises about preaching— Submission to the will of God. 176-169 CONTENTS. i CHAPTER X. Consent to travel Scioto circuit — First appointment — West Union — Sur- prise — Camp meeting on Paint creek — Receive license as a local preacher — Admitted into the traveling connection, and appointed to Wills Creek cir- cuit — Divine promises — Arrival at Zanesville — Description of circuit — Build a cabin for parsonage — Irish family — Roman Catholics — Conver- sion — Opposition in preaching — Principal text-books at that day — Preach- ing under a tree — An old German and son — German woman awakened— Tainful incident — Alarming judgment — Visit to a poor woman — Rev. John Strange — Camp meeting on Tuscarawas river — Moravians — Mr. John Bow- ers and wife — The hunter and trapper — Appointment at his house— Tragf- ical event — Indian Christians masacred — Rev. Mr. Mortimer. 190-211 CHAPTER XI. Mrs. Boarer — Her efforts to cross the Capin Mountains — Lost — Snow- storm — Dreadful night — Loses her horse — Unprecedented sufferings- Gave herself up to die — Faithful dog — Found — God's grace suffi- cient. 212-217 CHAPTER XII. The doomed chieftain — Wyandott warriors — Mr. Solls's interference in behalf of the Wyandott chief — Charge of witchcraft — Council condemn and sentence him to death — Preparations for the execution — Manner of death— Burial. 218-222 CHAPTER XIII. Knox circuit — Local preachers — Bowling Green — Emissaries of Satan — Revival at Mount Vernon — Rev. Samuel Hamilton — Capt. Gavit — Camp meeting anecdote — Gavit's conversion — Rev. Robert Manly — Appointment at Newark — Threats of the rabble — Man shot — Revival at Mr. John's — Conviction of a young lady — Great revival — Young man possessed of the devil — His conversion — Successful labors — My successor — Arian and So- cinian heresy — Sad effects of it to this day — Newlights — St. Alban's town- ship — The Owl creek Universalist — Fairfield circuit — Rev. Ralph Lot- speech — Extent of the circuit — Local preachers and prominent members- Great earthquake — Consternation of the people — Whisky distiller and party — The young preacher's grave. 223-242 CHAPTER XIV. Young men called to the ministry — Rev. Cornelius Springer — Rev. Sam- uel Baker — Rev. Job Baker — Rev. Jacob Hooper — Rev. Henry Baker — John Dillon's iron works — The Dillon family — Formation of a class at the iron works — Building of a meeting-house — Bishop M'Kendree — Rev. John Goshen — His labors — Methodist Church and temperance — Advised to go home — Temperance sermons — Pledge — Rushville camp meeting — A row- 8 CONTENTS. Advice to the rowdies — Conference at Chilicothe — Bishop Asbury and the appointments — West Wheeling circuit — Rev. Jacob Young — Guessing at the numbers in society — Roman Catholic convert: — Abel Sargent; the halcyon preacher — The unhappy influence of the war spirit — Lo- cal preachers — Model class-leader — Poor Jane Craig — The young law yer. Pages 243-261 CHAPTER XV. Union of Barnesville and West Wheeling circuits — Rev. Michael Ellis — The old German Methodist — An adventurous man — Great revival on Duck creek — Camp meeting at Fairview — A son of Belial — Cross Creek circuit- Rev. Archibald M'Elroy — Extent of the circuit — Church discipline — Cal- vinist controversy — Present of a handsome Bible — Irish Ridge — Letter from brother M'Elroy — Rev. J. C. Hunter — Society at Steubenville — Money mania — Bankers — Towns — Bishop M'Kendree — His pack-horse — Arrival at the camp meeting — Methodist family at Springfield — Jour- nal — Smithfield Church — Training of members — Conference at Louis- ville 262-284 CHAPTER XVI. Appointed to the Ohio district — Extent of — Singular custom at meet- ings — Fanaticism — Calvinism and Universalism — Presbyterian Union — Confession of Faith — Rev. Thomas Branch — Singular text — Camp meet- ing — Hostile indications — Captain of banditti — Judge Cashing — A singu- lar case — An English officer — A verdant young missionary — Quarterly meeting in Major Gay lord's barn — Dr. Bostwick — The conversion of a French soldier — Camp meeting on Lake Erie — The conversion of the sher- iff — Americana horribilis — Two remarkable instances of conviction — Con- ference at Steubenville — A request for a talented minister — Russel Bige- low 285-308 CHAPTER XVII. Mode by which backwoods preachers were manufactured in othei days — Cumberland Presbytery — Meeting for candidates for the ministry — A wild mountain-boy — His experience — The geologist — Bethel camp meet- ing — The mountain-boy preacher — Another specimen — Methodist camp meeting near Springfield — Kentucky orator — Personal appearance in the pulpit — Style of preaching — Power over his auditors — A desperate en- counter and struggle — Victory 309-329 CHAPTER XVIII. The young missionary and the robber — The moral condition of the far west, a* represented by a certain class — Travels of the young mission- ary—Arm of the Grand Prairie— The appearance of a suspicious-looking stranger— The alarm of the missionary — Taken home by the stranger— CONTENTS. JJ Agreeable surprise — His host a local preacher — Different spheres of use- fulness-.. Pages 330-336 CHAPTER XIX. The martyr preacher — Richmond Nolley — Summerfield — Cookman— Nolley's early life — His call to the ministry — Admission into the traveling connection — Sent to Eddisto circuit, in South Carolina — Stationed in the city of Charleston, South Carolina — Washington circuit, Georgia — Hia habits and labors — Efforts to reach a distant appointment — Melancholy death 337-343 CHAPTER XX. Personal narrative continued — Reappointed to the Ohio district — Wy- audott Indians — Early modes of worship — Conference in Cincinnati- Bishops — Delegates to General conference — Appointed to Lebanon dis- trict — Local preacher — Camp meeting — Camp meeting at Mechanics- burg — Went to General conference — Discordant elements in the body — Proposti to make the office of presiding elder elective — Compromise — Rev. Joshua Soule's opposition — M'Kendree's request — Rule adopted to build churches with free seats — Declared to be advisory — Round of camp meet- ings — Solicited to send a minister to Detroit — Conference at Chilicothe — Returned to Lebanon district — First quarterly meeting at the Maumee Rapids — Dismal journey through the Black Swamp — Meeting with the Wyandotts at Big Spring — Religion of the natives — Adventurous trip to Detroit — Worship in the council-house — Governor Cass — Soldiers awak- ened under preaching — other appointments — Difficulty with an Indian" — i Indian reservation — Drew up petition for the Wyandott nation — Request for my appointment at Detroit — Not granted — Appointed to the Wyandott mission — No missionary funds at that day — Mission family — Difficulties connected with the mission — Sister Harriet Stubbs — Progress of scholars in the mission school — Organization of a society — Religion takes hold of the mind of the nation. 344-361 CHAPTER XXI. Astonishing revival in the west in 1800— joint labors of a Cumberland Presbyterian and Methodist preacher — Character of their preaching — Camp meetings — Cane Ridge camp meeting — Great excitement — A bold opposer smitten — Exhortation of a boy — Manner of the exercises — Jerk- ing — Falling — Enthusiasm — Regular Baptists — Carey Allen — Springfield presbytery — Newlights — David Purviance — Gov. Garrard — Secretary — Tract on the Trinity — Shakers — Burton Stone's exposition — Immersion— . Elder Holmes — Elder Farnam — A. Sargent and his twelve apostles — Elias Hicks — Kid well and the last edition of Universalism 362-373 CHAPTER XXII. Personal narrative continued — Wyandott mission — Report of Judge IieiV to Secretary of War — Appointed to Lebanon district — Cincinnati s 10 CONTENTS . station- -Rev. J. F. Wright — Rev. Thos. A. Morris appointed editor of We»tern Christian Advocate — Returned to district — Appointed to Chili cothe district — Dayton district — A remarkable incident — Zanesville dis trict— "Appointed chaplain of the Ohio penitentiary — Superannuated — Ap- pointed to Yellow Springs — Superannuated — Appointed to Clinton-street Chapel, Cincinnati — Wyandott nation removed — Reflections — Mrs. Catha- rine Walker's remarks and poetry Pages 374-380 CHAPTER XXIII. Rev. Francis Asbury's arrival in America — His early religious training — Conversion and connection with the Church — State of the Church in Eng- land — Early preaching — Planting of Methodism in America — Labors of th* early bishops — Meager support— Methodist Episcopal Church organ- ized — Dr. Coke and Mr. Asbury elected joint superintendents — Interview of Asbury with General Washington — Academical and collegiate educa- tion — Cokesbury College — Methodist Church and literature — Asbury's visit to New Haven College — A change — The fate of Cokesbury — Asbury and Sabbath schools — Asbury's spirit — His general experience — His regard for the preachers — Incident in his travels — His amor patrice — Wes- ley's political opinions — Death of Washington — Asbury's opinion of — Celibacy of Bishop Asbury — Coke and Whatcoat — Close of Asbury's life 381-897 CHAPTER XXIV. Bishop M'Kendree — Camp meeting on Little Miami — Personal appear- ance of M'Kendree — His preaching — First interview with him — Thrilling incident — M'Kendree requested to preach his principles in full — Attacked by three Presbyterian elders — Circumstances connected with his election to the superintendency — Description of his sermon before the members of the General conference — Effect of that sennon — Prediction of Bishop As- bury — Twenty-seven years a bishop — Impartial in all his official acts-— The close of his life. 398-106 CHAPTER XXV. Rev. David Young— His parentage — Early life— Experience — Relapse— Wonderful preservation — His educational advantages — Taught a German school in Tennessee — Cumberland Presbyterians — Meditations— Convic- tions — Went to a large meeting — Obtained religion — Joyous emotions — Became a Methodist preacher — Views of the Cane Ridge revival — Ap pointed to Wayne circuit, Kentucky — His colleague — Total eclipse — Ap- ponted to Livingston circuit — Extent of— Afflicted — Curious Indian burying-ground — Improper class-leaders — On his way to conference falls sick at Lexington— His personal appearance and general charac- ter. 407 418 CONTENTS. 11 CHAPTER XXVI. Early life of the Rev. John P. Finley — Professor of Languages in Au gusta College, Kentucky — Fate of Augusta College — Finley is received into the traveling connection — Dr. Basconi's tribute to his memory- Analysis of his character — Fifteen years in the ministry — Character as a man — As a teacher — As a husband — As a father — As a friend — As a minister — His triumphant end — Rev. Jonathan Stamper's singular dream Pages 419-429 CHAPTER XXVII. Rev. W. B. Christie — Embraced religion in early life — Was admitted into the traveling connection in 1825 — Various appointments — Thric* elected to General conference — His personal appearance — Style of preach- ing — Power ,in the pulpit — Smitten with disease in the early part of his ministerial life — Compelled to desist from his labors, and repair to Cin- cinnati — His health rapidly declined — Religious experience — Christian testimony — Happy death 430-435 CHAPTER XXVIII. Indian Biography — Mononcue — His personal appearance — His elo- quence as a public speaker — Specimens of his eloquence — Of great serv- ice to the mission among the Wyandotts — He was my faithful, well-tried friend and brother — His death — Between-the-logs — His birth and par- entage — But little known of his early life — With the Indian army at the Maumee Rapids — Becomes a chief — Made principal speaker for the nation — Sent by his nation to examine the pretensions of a noted Seneca Prophet — Also, to examine the claims of a Shawnee Prophet — Tecumseh's brother — Attended a great Indian council of the northern nations — Joins the Americans — Settled in Upper Sandusky — His opposition to selling the Wyandott lands — Proceeds with other chiefs to Washington — His reply to the Secretary of War — Result of interview with heads of depart- ments — Embraced religion — Attends the Ohio conference — Address at New York — Big-tkee — Personal appearance — Manners — Residence — At Braddock's defeat when a boy — Indian wars — Hair-bread.th escape — His conversion — Close of his life — The mysterious Indian chieftain and his bride — Their appearance at the mission — Regarded as superior beings — Personal appearance of the chief — His dress — Hunting apparatus — Horses — Conjectures — The bride — Her personal appearance — Dress— Theii tent — Superstitious conjectures — Their mysterious disappearance — Indiat tradition 436-455 AUTOBIOGRAPHY REV. JAMES B. FINLEY, AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. CHAPTER I. ._ PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE. Mr ancestors were Europeans. My paternal grand- father was of the old stock of Pennsylvanians from Scot- land. He being one of the younger sons, his elder brother who, according to the laws of primogeniture, inherited the Finley manor, sent him to the El Dorado of the western world, in quest of his fortune. Having made Pennsylva- nia his home, he was in due time married to Miss Mary Patterson, a lady from Germany. My maternal grand- father — Mr. James Bradley — was a native of Wales. My grandmother was from England ; she was a lady of rare endowments, thoroughly educated, being well-read in the ancient languages. During the period of revolutionary strife and suffering she made herself acquainted with medical science, and opened a hospital for the sick and wounded soldiers, administering to their necessities with her own benevolent hand. My father — Robert W. Finley — was born in Bucks county, Pennsylvania; and, after having received all the advantages of literary training from the schools of his neighborhood and the instructions of his patriot mother, he was sent to Princeton College, New Jersey, and placed 15 16 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF under the care of the venerable and talented Dr. Wither* spoon, President of that institution. After having passed through his collegiate course, he spent several years in studying theology, and was occasionally employed as a teacher of languages. Being prepared, as far as a theo- logical training could prepare him, for the work of the ministry, he was licensed, by the Presbytery, to preach the Gospel. At that time there were great and pressing calls foi ministerial labor in the new settlements of the Carolinas and' Georgia; and, obeying the command of his Master, to w go into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every creature," lie volunteered his services as a missionary to that then distant field. The country was in an unsettled state; the gloomy clouds of war hung bodingly over the American horizon ; and although our patriot fathers had cast off their allegi- ance to the British crown, had struck the decisive blow, and erected a broad, strong platform of national independ- ence, yet the days of trial and conflict had not passed. The Red Sea had been crossed, the Rubicon had been passed, and their enemies overthrown like the enemies of ancient Israel; yet, before they could gain entire and un- disputed possession of the fair inheritance they claimed, every foe had to be vanquished. The times in which men live develop a corresponding character. A missionary of that day, imbued with the heroic spirit of the times, would not be likely to stop to count the cost of a perilous enterprise where the advance- ment of the kingdom of his Lord was concerned, but, buckling on his armor, would courageously go forth at once to "glorious war." There being no missionary bank in any of the American Churches at that day, on whose resources the missionary could draw the needed supplies, young Finley bade adieu to home and friends, and, in the REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 17 narfie of his Master, trusting in God for help and direc- tion, hastened to his distant field of labor. No sooner did he arrive, than he entered upon his work of visiting the towns, villages, and settlements in North and South Carolina, and Georgia, preaching the Gospel, and planting Churches in destitute places. Here he la- bored for three consecutive years; at the end of which time he married Miss Rebecca Bradley, whose father — Mr. James Bradley, as above noticed — believing he could better the condition of his family by removing to a new country, sold out his possessions on the Delaware river, and removed to North Carolina. The marriage was cele- brated in the year 1780, and on the following year, in the month of July, I was born. The horrors of a civil war raged with great fury; neighbor was massacred by his neighbor. The Tory party, urged on by the British, resorted to every conceiv- able means of oppression and violence to drive all the Whigs from the country, or keep up a war of extermina- tion. In this relentless persecution every feeling of hu- manity was outraged; and the barbarity of the savages contending for their native hunting grounds against the invasions of the pale face, falls below the savagism of Tory warfare. All of my mother's brothers were killed in this most deadly strife. Captain James Bradley fell in Gates's defeat, fighting by the side of that heroic stranger, Baron De Kalb, who, filled with generous emotions, left his father-land, to join in our struggles, and water the tree of liberty with his heroic blood. My uncle, Mr. Francis Bradley, was murdered by four Tories near his own house. He was assailed by them, and, knowing their pur- pose, he resolved to sell his life at the dearest rate. A fierce and deadly encounter ensued ; but, being overpow- ered by numbers, he was conquered, and the cowardly ruffians shot him with his own rifle. 2 18 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF Mr. John Bradley was taken prisoner, and died on board a prison-ship. My father and his congregation were very odious to the Tory party, and they were watched and waylaid on every occasion; so that their lives were in jeopardy every hour. Even the sanctuary and the family altar afforded no security, but were ruth- lessly invaded by these more than savage white men. One of the elders of my father's Church, while engaged in solemn prayer around the domestic altar, was shot down in the midst of his family by one of his Tory neigh- bors. The Tory on passing was arrested by the voice of prayer, and stealthily slipping to the window, which, like Daniel's, was open, he took a cool and deliberate aim at the heart of the worshiper, and his spirit fled to join the worshipers above. On that same morning my father was shot at as he stepped out of the door, the ball pass- ing through the clothes on his breast. Those who killed Mr. Francis Bradley were followed, and three of them killed ; the other making his escape. After the war, the fugitive being found by my uncle Price, was summarily punished. A Tory major, who lived in the neighborhood, on a cer- tain occasion collected together at one house, by stratagem, all the wives of the Whigs, and hung them up by the neck till almost dead. This species of torture was resorted to for the purpose of- extorting from them the place ol their husbands' concealment. Their love and courage proved entirely too strong for this trial, and not in one single instance was the slightest disclosure made. They despised alike the Tory and his threats. Some time after the war, this same valorous major returned to the same neighborhood where he had committed the dastardly act, and the sons of those mothers whom he had so shame- fully abused took him out one night to a swamp, and gave him twenty lashes on his back for every woman h« REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 19 mid hung; they then tarred and feathered him, ducked him in the swamp, and told him if he did not leave the country in one month, they would draw every drop of Tory blood out of his body. My grandparents were subjected to the severest trials ; not only suffering the loss of their children, but their property ; and their condition as well as that of all others similarly situated, would have been vastly worse, hadjt not been for the untiring vigilance and indomitable cour- age of the heroic Marion. Like ancient Israel, who, while rebuilding the temple in troublous times, had to bear about them the weapons of war, so the ministers of the Gospel at that day were obliged to carry carnal as well as spiritual weapons. My father was obliged, from the necessity of the case, to take up arms in the defense of his country and family. Often while a little boy have I stood by my mother's knee and heard her tell the bloody conflicts of those days ; and her tongue grew eloquent as she described the thrilling ad- ventures of the courageous Marion. She frequently en- tertained us with the war-songs of those times. I recol- lect a verse of one of those songs, and will give it to the reader, as a specimen of the epic poetry of the times. The song was composed on the battle of King's Mountain, and ran thus : "Froud Ferguson, he placed himself All with his ragged race, 3 man ; He most defied the living God, To take him from that place, man ; But brave Campbell did him there surround, And beat him on his chosen ground, And gave him there a deadly wound. With pell and mell the Tories fell; It's hard to tell how bad a smell They left upon the place, man." c Tories. "20 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF During the eventful struggle of the Revolution, the fires of patriotism glowed as intensely in the hearts of the females as the males. Often have I listened, with inde- scribable emotions, to the patriotic songs sung by the me- lodious and soul-inspiring voices of the patriot mothers and daughters of that day. One has said, let me write the songs of a country, and I care not who makes its laws. This remark is full of meaning. No one can tell the wonders achieved by the power of the patriotic songs of a country. It matters not how homely they are. If they breathe the spirit of the times, they touch the heart and rouse it to action. The "Hail Columbia" of America, "Hail to the chief" ot Scotland, "Britannia rules the wave" of England, the "Marseilles Hymn" of France, the "Erin go Bragh" of Ireland, have accomplished more in infusing patriotism and a military spirit into the minds of the people than all other agencies combined. We well understand the power of holy song in rousing the dormant soul and raising the thoughts to heaven. That inimitable poet Charles Wesley understood the powei and influence of song, who, when asked by a dissolute company for a song, and being allowed to sing one of his own composing, commenced, " Listed into the cause of sin, Why should a good be evil? Music, alas! too long has been Press'd to obey the devil. Drunken, or light, or lewd, the lay Tends to the soul's undoing; Widens, and strews with flowers the way Down to eternal ruin." So, gentle reader, you see I took my birth in the storA. of war, and my nursery tales and songs were all of w«r. Often while my precious mother would sing to me the mournful dirge of death, have I seen the tears steal down REV. JAMES B..FINLEY. 21 ner calm and quiet face, and, while my heart would beat with unutterable emotions, I have felt the spirit of revenge rise and kindle my whole nature into a storm. My parents and relatives were all Presbyterians, except my grandmother Bradley, who was a Whitefield Method- ist, and had been converted to God in her early life by the ministry of that distinguished and eloquent man of God, Rev. George Whitefield. She was a zealous and happy Christian. Her experience was bright and clear on the subject of experimental religion, and differed from the most of professors, as also from the experience of her ministers. This often brought on a controversy between her and her ministers and Christian friends. She ex- pressed, in clear and direct terms, her belief in the wit- ness of the Spirit, and always bore testimony to the fact that she knew God had power on earth to forgive sins, because she felt in her own heart the pardoning love of God. Such a profession was regarded by both preachers and people as presumptuous, if not, indeed, a species oi fanaticism. The doctrine then taught was, that forgive- ness of sins could not be known till death or after death, and that it was necessary for us to commit some sin to prevent self-exaltation and vain confidence. It was urged as impossible for man to know his sins forgiven, because the decrees of God concerning election were secret, and could not be revealed or made known till death, or after the soul passed into the spirit-world. From all this she warmly dissented, affirming that she knew the time and place of her conversion, and that she had the witness of the divine Spirit bearing witness with her spirit that she was a child of God. At the close of the Revolutionary war, the new world, as it was then called, or, in other words, the land of Boone — Kentucky — excited the attention of my father und others, who were personally acquainted with Colonel 22 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF Boone ; and, taking with him two of his brothers and as many others of the neighbors as desired to accompany him, he started out on a tour of exploration. It was in the spring of 1784 that they entered upon this expedition; and, after traversing the length and breadth of the land, they returned in the summer, with the most glowing ac- counts of this terrestrial paradise, this new Canaan, "flow- ing with milk and honey." No sooner had this intelli- gence been received, than many families resolved to emigrate. My grandparents, being too old to encounter the perils and fatigues of the wilderness, were not inclined to go: whereupon my father yielded to their wishes, aban doned his purpose of going to Kentucky, and removed with his parents to Virginia, and settled between the north and south branches of the Potomac. Here my father had two congregations, to whom he ministered the word of life. Not satisfied with his location, and still yearning after Kentucky, in the course of two years he crossed the Mountains, and came to George's creek, near to where the town of Geneva now stands. In this place he gath- ered a congregation, and preached with great success and popularity. At the time my father resided in the Redstone country there was a great excitement in the Presbyterian Church about Psalmody. The introduction of Watts's hymns was considered a monstrous departure from the faith of the Church, and, in some instances, divided Churches and families. My father used them alternately, and thus brought on him and the Rev. Joseph Smith much perse- cution. But the work of the Lord revived, and his power was greatly manifested in the awakening of sinners. I recollect at a sacrament held in Mr. Griffin's barn, on the Sabbath day, that forty persons cried aloud for mercy, und many of them fell to the floor. This was considered REV. JAMES B. FINLET. 23 the greatest meeting ever known in the country for the noise; but many of them professed to obtain religion. Some time after this a sacramental meeting was held at Laurel Hill Meeting-house, in the vicinity of Uniontown, as now called. On Saturday afternoon, my father asked a Methodist minister to conclude the public services by an exhortation. This was much lauded by some of the old folks, and inquiries were made as to who he was. One Mr. Cree, who knew him, said that he was a Methodist. Then said one of the ruling men, " Finley has shown his cloven foot." The next morning Rev. Carey Allen was to preach, and he saw an advertisement stuck up on the stand, which he took down, and read, as follows: "I do hereby publish the bans of marriage between Robert W. Finley and the Methodist preacher. Any person having any lawful objection let him now declare it, or forever after hold his peace." Mr. Allen instantly exclaimed, with a loud voice, "I forbid the bans; and the reason is, they are too near akin." This made many leave the con- gregation ; but the Lord continued to pour out his Spirit, and many professed to find peace in believing. My father labored in this field for two }^ears; but he was not yet satisfied ; Kentucky was the land of promise ; and, accordingly, in the fall of 1788, when Pomona was pouring her richest treasures into the lap of the husband- man, he, in company with several others, cut loose from their moorings at the mouth of George's creek, to emi- grate to the rich cane-brakes of Kentucky. I shall never forget the deeply-thrilling and interesting scene which oc- curred at parting. Ministers and people were collected together, and after an exhortation and the singing of a hymn, they all fell upon their knees, and engaged in ardent supplication to God, that the emigrants might be protected amid the perils of the wilderness. I felt as though we were taking leave of the world. After 24 AOTOBIOGRAPHY Off mingling together our tears and prayers, the boats were oosed, and we floated out into the waters of the beautiful Ohio. It was a hazardous undertaking; but such was the insatiable desire to inherit those rich lands, and enjoy the advantages of the wide-spreading cane-brakes, that many were the adventurers ; and although many lost theii lives, anc 1 others all they possessed, yet it did not for a moment deter others from the perilous undertaking. The rush to California at the present time shows what is the extent of hardships men, with the bare possibility of bet- tering their condition, will cheerfully undergo. The Indians, jealous of the white man, and fearful of losing their immense and profitable hunting-grounds, from the great tide of emigration which was constantly pouring in upon them, were wrought up to the highest pitch of fury, and determined to guard, as far as possible, both passes to it; namely, the Ohio river and the Old Crab Orchard rpad, or Boone's old trace, leading from the southern portion of Kentucky to North Carolina. They attacked all boats they had any probability of being able to take, using all the strategy of which they were masters to decoy them to the shore. Many boats were taken and many lives were lost through the deceit and treachery of the Indians and white spies employed by them. The day on which the emigrants started was pleasant, and all nature seemed to smile upon the pioneer band They had made every preparation they deemed necessary to defend themselves from the attack of their wily foes. The boat which led the way as a pilot was well manned and armed, on which sentinels, relieved by turns, kept watch day and night. Then followed two other boats at a convenient distance. While floating down the river we frequently saw Indians on the banks, watching for an op- portunity to make an attack. Just below the mouth of the Great Scioto, where th RE\. JAMES B. FINLEY. 25 tuwn of Portsmoutli now stands, a long and desperate 3ffcrt was made to get some of the boats to land by a white man. who feigned to be in great distress; but the fate of William Orr and his family was too fresh in the minds of the adventurers to be thus decoyed. A few months previous to the time of which I am writing, this gentleman and his whole family were murdered, being lured to shore by a similar stratagem. But a few weeks before we passed, the Indians attacked three boats, two- of which were taken, and all the passengers destroyed. The other barely escaped, having lost all the men on board, except the Rev. Mr. Tucker, a Methodist missionary, who was sent by the bishop to Kentucky. Mr. Tucker was wounded in several places, but he fought manfully. The Indians got into a canoe and paddled for the boat, determ- ined to board it; but the women loaded the rifles of their deceased husbands, and handed them to Mr. Tucker, who took such deadly aim, every shot making the number in the canoe less, that they abandoned all hope of reach- ing the boat, and returned to the shore. After the conflict this noble man fell from sheer ex- haustion, and the women were obliged to take the oars, and manage the boat as best they could. They were ena- bled to effect a landing at Limestone, now Maysville ; and a few days after their protector died of his wounds, and they followed him weeping to his grave. Peace to his dust, till it shall be bidden to rise! Though no stone marks the spot where this young hero-missionary lies, uway from his home and kindred, among strangers in a strange land, his dust is sacred, till the resurrection morn, when it shall come forth reanimate to inherit immortality. But to resume our narrative. Being too well posted in Indian strategy to be decoyed, we pursued our journey unmolested. Nothing remarkable occurred, save the death of my much-loved grandmother. The day before we 3 26 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF landed at Limestone she took her mystic flight to a bette. world. This was the first time I was privileged to see a Christian die. Her faith was strong in the God of het salvation ; and while surrounded by her weeping friends, whom she affectionately addressed, and bidding them ail a last farewell, she repeated the following verse, and thei> sweetly fell asleep in Jesus : "0, who can tell a Savior's worth, Or speak of grace's power, Or benefits of the new birth, In a departing hour ? Come nigh, kind death; Untie life's thread; I shall to God ascend; In joys I shall then with him dwell — Joys that shall never end." The recollections of this kind mother in Israel are stih fresh in my memory ; When a child she would frequently take me into her closet, and there, while engaged in he/ private devotions, like Hannah of old, she would lay her hands on my head, and dedicate me to God. Her remain* 1 were committed to the dust in Maysville, and the Bcv« Carey Allen, of bli^o^u. ^v/uiory, preached ner luiioai sermon. The impressions made on my youthful mind by the prayers and invocations of my sainted grandmother were never erased ; and when the natural inclinations of my depraved heart would have led me into infidelity, her godly life and triumphant death would come to my recol- lection with irresistible power, and confirm me in the truth of Christianity. In company with my father, and in his boat, there were two missionaries — the Revs. Carey Allen and Robert Marshall — and also Mr. James Walsh and Mr. Richard M'Nemar, both of whom afterward became ministers in the Presbyterian Church. As soon as my father could make the necessary arrangements, he removed his family to the town of Washington, Mason county, Ky., and REV. JAMES B. FINLET. 27 remained there during the winter. It was in this place that L saw for the first time that great adventurer, Simon Ken- ton. He was truly the master-spirit of the times in that region of country. He was looked up to by all as the great defender of the inhabitants, always on the qui viv#, and ready to fly at a moment's warning to the place of danger, for the protection of the scattered families in the wilderness. Providence seems to have raised up this man for a special purpose ; and his eventful life, and the many wonderful and almost miraculous deliverances, in which he was preserved amidst the greatest perils and dangers, are confirmatory of the fact, that he was a child of Providence. The Indians made great depredations during the winter, and stole almost all the horses, so that the farmers were •icarcely able to carry on their business. In this posture of affairs, Colonel Kenton, with a party of men, started from Kentucky and went to Oldtown, now Chilicothe, for the purpose of recovering them. Having succeeded, by inding stream shall cease to flow, And those surrounding hills exist no more, His sleeping dust reanimate shall rise, Bursting to life at the last trumpet's sound ; Shall bear a part in nature's grand assize, When sun, and time, and stars no more are found." But to the narrative. Nothing transpired during the winter, save occasional visits from the Indians, who stole several horses and sometimes succeeded in taking a few prisoners, one or two of whom were killed. Notwith- standing the return of spring was dreaded, fearing ii 3 J AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF would be an occasion for great depredations on the part of the Indians, it passed without any hostile invasion. I will here give an account of the manner of adminis- tering justice in certain cases in those times. Almost all ne\* countries become places of refuge for criminals who tlee from justice. Many of this description had fled from the older states, and had taken up their abode in Ken- tucky. To provide against this, the Legislature of the state passed what was termed the vagrant act. It opera- ted on this wise. When any person was found withou' employment or any visible means of obtaining a liveli- hood, he was taken up, and after having been advertised ten days, was sold to the highest bidder for a short time, say two or three months. All that was earned above the necessary costs was given to him at the end of service. A good-looking and well-dressed man was found in the town of Washington who had no employment. He was taken up, and, on examination, found to be a gambler, who was corrupting the morals of the youth. The magis- trate informed him, if he did not leave the place in a short time he would put the law in force against him. This warning was entirely disregarded, and accordingly the gentleman was taken up and sold to a blacksmith, who chained him to the anvil-block and made him blow and strike all day, and at night he was put in the county prison. Thus he was obliged to do the honest though hard work of blowing and striking till his term expired, when he left for parts unknown, with a very bad opinion of the law. If such a law were put in force in our towns and cities, the innumerable hordes of gamblers and loafers that infest them w r ould soon become as scarce as musketoes in mid- winter. When the fall of the year came, we found ourselves scarce of provisions for the coming winter; yet we were REV. JAMEs R. FINLfiY. 35 not destitute of the never-failing staples of the back woodsman; namely, hominy, buffalo, venison, and bear- meat; and any man can live well on these, and come out fat and hearty in the spring. In the spring of 1789 my father purchased some land in the vicinity of Stockton's station, near where the town of Flemino-sbur^ now stands, and we removed into the woods, three-quarters of a mile from the station. This was the frontier house of the settlement, there being none between it and the Ohio river. The house was built of round logs from the forest trees : the first story made of the largest w r e were able to put up ; the second story of smaller ones, which jutted over two or three feet, to pre- vent any one from climbing to the top of the house. The chimneys were built on the inside. The door was made of puncheon slabs, six inches thick, and was barred on the inside by strong iron staples driven into the logs on both sides, into which were placed strong bars. \In the upper part of the house there were port-holes, out of which we could shoot as occasion might require; and, as no windows were allowed, they also answered for the pur- poses of light and ventilation. The house for our colored people was built in the same way, and immediately ad- joining the one in which the family lived. My father treated his slaves with great tenderness — more like chil- dren than servants. He never punished one of them, to my recollection. They were all taught to read, and we all joined together in praise and prayer to God. I have often thought that slavery existed in my father's family only in form, and that it was in the power of every mas- ter to enjoy all the benefits resulting from servitude, with- out the evils too often, alas ! connected with it. Our houses being thus strongly constructed, and all of us armed with a gun and plenty of ammunition, we were always prepared for war. While some were engaged in 3b AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF working, others acted as sentinels. About the middle of April the Indians paid a visit to our new home. They came in the night, while my father was engaged in family prayer, and rapped, with a wiping stick, three times on the door. The dogs barked most furiously, and the time for prayer having ended, the time of watching having come, every one of us seized our guns, and hastened to our posts. The night was so dark, it was impossible foi us to discover any one. After some time all things be- came quiet without, and some laid themselves down to sleep, while others kept watch till welcome day dispelled our fears. With great caution the door was unbarred and opened, and, on examination, the tracks of three In- dians were found as they passed over the newly-cleared field. Believing it was the purpose of the Indians to steai horses, and ours being in the woods, my father took his rifle and went to hunt them. As he proceeded cautiously on his way, he came to a ridge, on ascending which he perceived a smoke rising up from the other side. Stealth- ily advancing, he saw the camp of the Indians, one of whom was sitting up, and the other two were lying down. He crept back slowly,* and, taking another direction, he soon found the horses, and returned home. As soon as he returned, he sent to the station to give the alarm. It was considered best not to go out in quest of the Indians that night, but that all should keep on the look-out, and thus be prepared for them should they make an attack. That night they took six horses, and started for the Ohio river, which was distant about seventy miles. Captain Cassady immediately started in pursuit, and on the sec- ond day overtook them ; but, fearful of the consequences, they left the horses, and fled with such celerity that they were not overtaken. During the summer they stole several horses and killed a few persons, but made no formidable attack on any REV. JAMES B. FitfLEY. 37 bouse or station. We were visited again by the Indians the following spring. It was the time of sugar making. It was in the night, and we were boiling sugar water. The distance of our camp from the house was about forty rod3, All at once we were startled by what we supposed to be the hooting of several owls, and shortly after we heard a low whistle from a charger. The obvious design which we gathered from these movements, was that they intended to surround us. My mother, who was with us, being accustomed to Indian strategy and warfare, was not in the least intimidated; beside she had passed through too many dark and bloody scenes to be faint-hearted. Approaching the colored man, she said, "Indians! Stand behind that tree ; let the fire burn till you think we have reached home ; then throw a bucketful of water on the fire, slip out in the dark, and run home as soon as you can." The faithful servant obeyed all these directions; and the Indians, being thwarted in their purposes, recon- noitered the houses. My father being absent from home, mother assumed the command, and, directing all to their posts, told us to stand firm, and not fire a gun till we were sure of our mark. The dogs set up a howl, as if they were frantic, till about midnight, when all became quiet. The Indians passed on to another settlement, where they took a prisoner and several horses, and then started foi the river. The ever-vigilant Captain Cassady, with his minute- men, were soon on the trail, and urged the pursuit so hotly, that on the second day they came on them so sud- denly, that they fled, leaving their prisoner, and receiving the fire of the whole party. They made their escape with their wounded, and the company returned. An event occurred about this time, of a most melan* choly character, and which threw a gloom over the whole community. A young man, who was employed as a spy, 38 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF and was, of course, dressed like an Indian, in coming into the station, saw a young lad with his gun coming toward him. He ran behind a tree, and made a noise like an In- dian, for the purpose of frightening the boy. The boy, on seeing this, and supposing him to be a veritable In- dian, also took to a tree. When the spy looked out from bis retreat, to see the boy run, the boy, who was on the vatch, instantly fired, and the unfortunate spy fell dead on the spot. A similar occurrence came very near hap- pening with myself. One of our neighbors, named Jack Williams, had been out to watch a deer-lick. Seeing me coming on a cow-path, for the purpose of alarming me, he jumped behind a tree and gave an Indian whoop, sup- posing I would run. I drew up my gun, and would have shot him if he had not cried out for quarters, in honest old Anglo Saxon. He was much alarmed, and was doubt less satisfied that it was entirely too hazardous to repeat the trick. We all lived in constant danger, and exposed to death , And although there were spies constantly ranging betweexi the settlements and the Ohio river, from Limestone to Big Sandy, yet the Indians would come in undiscovered, and kill our friends, and steal the horses. We had to depend, for our daily living, on the hunters, and what we could kill ourselves of the wild game. This gave me- an early love for the chase, which grew with my growth and strengthened with my strength, till I had almost, at the age of sixteen, become an Indian in my habits and feel- ings. The country was infested with wolves, and they were remarkably daring and impudent. They would at- tack grown cattle, and kill colts and two-years old cows. While hunting the cows one morning in the woods, in company with a lad a little older than- myself, we heard a cow bellowing at a piteous rate ; and, supposing it was In- dians trying to decoy us, we crept up with the tread of a iiEV. JAMES B. FIN LEY. 3i) .•.at, and, from the top of the ridge, looked over and saw rive wolves hanging on to a large cow, while she wa* struggling to free herself, and aiming for home. As she came toward ns, we took the best position we could, and waited their arrival. We fired by concert, killing two, and wounding a third. The wolves instantly loosed their hold, ran a few paces, and set up a terrible howl. Fear- Rig a fresh supply of this ferocious animal, we ran home, and returning with help, to see what was done, we found two, and tracked the other by its blood some distance. Such were the dangers and hardships to which we were constantly exposed, that my father sold out his posses- sions, and removed to Bourbon county, and settled on what was then called the Cane Ridge. • This was in the spring of 1790. ' The land purchased by my father was a part of an un- broken cane-brake extending for twenty miles toward what was called the Little Mountain. We had to cut out roads before we could haul the logs to build our cabins. The cane was so thick and tall, that it was almost impossible for a horse or cow to pass through it. We first cut the cane, and gathered it into piles to be burned. This was oerformed by a cane-hoe. The next thing was to plow, which was done by first cutting the cane roots with a coulter fastened to a stock of wood, which was called the blue boar. This turned no furrow ; and hence it was nec- essary to follow it with the bar shear, which turned ovei the sod. My father had two congregations, one at this place and the other at Concord, both of which were prosperous. Many were gathered into the Church and devoted to re- ligion. . Here my father opened a high school, in which was taught the languages as well as the higher branches of an English ^ucation. It was the first pchool of the kind 40 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF in the state; and ten or twelve young men were edu- cated here who afterward became Presbyterian preachers. Judges Trimble and Mills here learned their first gram- mar lesson. This institution flourished for a number of years. The subject of education was of great importance in the early settlement of the country ; but its importance increases in proportion to its growth and advancement The mind of mm on his entrance into our disordered world, is destitute of knowledge of every kind, but is ca- pable of vast acquirements and prodigious expansion ; and on this his happiness and usefulness depend. But il must be acquired by education ; and whatever opens the door to facilitate this object, will be productive of the greatest good, both to the individual and the community at large. The expansion of the mind makes the man, therefore, this gem of the greatest value ought to be sought after with interest by the whole mass of mankind; and, instead of pursuing, with so much avidity, the things which belong to the body, and are only calculated to grat- ify the animal passions and appetites, and alone to pro- mote that kind of happiness which is the lowest of which man is capable, the whole world, and every man and woman in it, ought to regard the improvement of the mind as the most valuable acquisition within their grasp, both for here and hereafter. It was the purpose of God, in the very constitution of the human mind, that he should be wise ; and that in this consists alone his true greatness and unending, consummate felicity. On this depends the happiness of social intercourse, the enjoyments of all civil and religious privileges, the advancement in the arts and sciences, and the commerce of the world. Indeed, it raises man from the common level of a beast and brutish enjoy- ments, to the exalted dignity of a rational being. Is it rtot for a want of a proper conception of the great worth of the improvement of the mind, that it is so much neg- REV. JAMES B. F1NLET. 41. fected, and so little sought after? Ignorance, like a deep »nd dark cloud, has hung over the mind of man, and has obscured the brilliant rays of this hallowed intellectual sue: ; and but few in the world, comparatively, have felt its warming rays, or seen the glory of its brightness; and yet it is within the reach of all, in a greater or less degree. Every good man, every lover of his country, every bad man ought to use his influence to encourage and sustain, with his property and by the education of his children, every effort to banish the cursed monster ignorance from our happy country. A man may boast of his patriotism, and his exceeding great love of our free and happy in- stitutions, but if he neglects to lend his aid to the work of education, he does most emphatically contradict, by his conduct, his profession, and, like all other such men, may justly be branded with the disgraceful appellation of hyp- ocrite. Will men make this boast loud and vociferous : look at their children at home; and, when not yoked up, like their oxen, to work, they are running at large, and rot the least attention paid to the improvement of their minds. If they can have the benefit of a public school for three months in the winter, it is very well ; for, at this time of year, they have no use for them, and it costs them nothing to send them to school. Now, my friend, let me ask you a question: Which would you rather see: your son go out into the world with the attainments of a good, sound, English education, and be able to associate with the wise, and good, and great; or set him down on a farm a novice, and, in point of intelligence, but a very little above the horse he plows with? If you prefer the last, I pity both you and your children. If you have any thing to give your children, do, for their sakes and for the sake of society, put some of it into their heads; for you would feel much better to see your son or daughter 4:2 AUTOBIOGRArilYOK poor, but wise, than to see him a rich fool, the butt and ridicule of society. And let me ask the parents, vhai kind of a man do you think he would be, who would marry your daughter, if a rich fool ; or how mean must the man be, that would marry a fool for her riches? Make them intelligent, for men of intelligence will seek such for their companions through life. The facilities for education are now opening in almost every part of the country, and this invaluable fortune for your children can now be had on easy terms. Embrace it; do not curse your offspring with being the dupes and servants of their better-educated fellow-citizens. An igno- rant man must always remain a Liliput in intellect, and a Tom- Thumb -being in society, comparatively speak- ing. A few years since, when the subject of instruction was enjoined on our people from the pulpit, the excuse then was, "We have no institution of our own; none con- venient." Now we have gotten up several, and the hard times is now the grand excuse ; so there seems to be a lack of disposition. Reflect soberly on this mighty ques- tion, and decide on the side of duty, and not of dollars and cents ; for it does appear to me, that if a poor man could be justified for theft on any principle whatever, it wculd be to steal to educate his children. KEY. JAMES B. F1NLEI. 43 CHAPTER II. CHARACTER OF THE BACKWOODSMAN. I deem it proper, before proceeding further with my narrative, to give the reader an account of some of the early settlers of the western country, denominated back- woodsmen. On this subject I hope my readers will par- don me, should they think I indulge in a too highly- wrought eulogy of their character. I am well aware that those who are not acquainted with the scenes and circum- stances of those early days, will be disposed to regard a description of the deeds of daring and the heroism dis- played by the hardy pioneer, as the product of an exuber- ant fancy instead of plain, unvarnished matter of fact. To relieve the mind of the reader on this point, I will here state that nothing shall be chronicled by me which is not a veritable history of my life and times. "Truth needs not the foreign aid of ornament;" and the facts which I am prepared to communicate are many of them more wonderful and interesting than fiction. I have no doubt that had these pioneers lived in other ages, they would have ranked with the deified heroes of antiquity. The stream of immigration which continued to pour in from the older states into all parts of the western country, roused all the native jealousy of the Indians, and they concentrated all their powers to keep the white man from seizing their rich hunting-grounds and robbing them of ihe homes and graves of their fathers. Every Indian riwore his child upon the altar of eternal hatred to the white man. So constant, persevering, and daring were 44 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF the attacks of the Indians upon the frontier settlements, that all the force which could be raised was not suffhieni to repel their invasions. It was found to be absolutely necessary to change the policy from that of a defensive to an offensive war. Ac- cordingly, General Washington raised an army for the purpose pf carrying the war into the enemy's country. The command of this army was given to General Harmar The history of this ill-fated campaign I shall not stop here to relate ; suffice it to say, that it only served to whet the appetite of the Indians and give them a keener relish foi deeds of revenge and cruelty. Soon after followed the defeat of St. Clair, which added fuel to the flames; and the Indians, flushed with success and full of hope of being able finally to drive the white man from their hunting- grounds, made the conflict desperate indeed. It was a day of gloom and darkness to the white population, and it seemed doubtful which would gain the mastery. Hun- dreds of the early settlers and their families were butch- ered by the Indians. Many who retired for the night were surprised and murdered, and the glare of their burn- ing habitations, shooting up amid the darkness, told the surrounding settlements of the work of death. To prevent this state of things, and as the only way to be secure from the surprise of the savages, the choicest men of the country were selected as spies. Men of the greatest integrity, courage, and activity, and who were well skilled in all the modes of savage warfare, were chosen, and among the number I will mention the names of William Bennet, Mercer Beason, Duncan M'Arthur, Nathaniel Beasley, and Samuel Davis. These men were dressed like Indians. They were to guard the passes of the Ohio from Maysville to Big Sandy. While some of these were passing up the river between these two points others were coming down, so that it was almost impossible REV. JAMES B. FINLET. 45 for the Indians, in any considerable numbers, to cross over from the Ohio side without discovery. When they did cross the river, the settlements were apprised of the fact and put on their guard. These sentinels often en- countered great hardship and dangers. The ordeals through which they passed were abundantly sufficient to test the courage of the stoutest heart. On one occasion M'Arthur and Davis stopped at the mouth of the Scioto river, where Portsmouth now stands, and went across the bottom to watch a deer-lick, well known, near the foot of the hill. It was a foggy morning, and an object could not be discerned distinctly fifty yards oft'. M'Arthur stopped and Davis crawled up to the lick with the stealth of a cat. When he straightened himself up to look into the lick, instantly he heard the sharp crack of a rifle, the ball of which whistled by his head. The fog, together with the smoke of the gun, prevented the Indian from seeing whether he had effected his object. Without moving out of his place, Davis raised his gun and the moment the Indian stepped out of the smoke of his rifle he fired, and the savage fell dead in his tracks. M'Arthur knowing that the firing was in too quick succession to be made by one person, ran up to the spot; but no sooner had he reached it than they heard the yell and rush of many Indians. They instantly started for the river, and being covered, in their retreat, by the dense fog, they reached their canoe and darted out into the stream. Some time during the next season, M'Arthur went to watch the same lick. He had not been seated long in his blind till two Indians made their appearance and were coming directly toward him. As the best and safest course he chose the boldest, and with a firm nerve and steady aim he fired. Whiz went the ball, and down fell one of the Indians. The other, instead of running, stood still. Several other Indians, hearing the report of the 46 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF gun, came running to the lick, whereupon M'Arthui sprang from his hiding-place and bounded away. As he ran they fired upon him, and one of the balls striking his powder-horn, drove the splinters into his side. Not seeing him fall, they started in hot pursuit. Being exceedingly fleet-footed, he distanced them so far that they slackened their pace. He aimed his course for the river, and find- ing his faithful companion waiting for him they pushed out into the stream. Scarcely had they reached the mid- dle of the stream ere they were saluted with the yell of the savages on the bank. Fearing they might be fired upon, they redoubled their energy, and the swift canoe sped over the surface like a bird. They soon were out of the gunshot of the enemy, and reached in safety the other shore. As a further illustration of a backwoods life, I will here give the reader an account of some deeds of noble daring which occurred in Ohio : As early as the year 1790 the block-house and stock- ade above the mouth of the Hockhocking river was a frontier post for the hardy pioneers of the North-western territory. There nature was in her undisturbed livery of dark and thick forests, interspersed with green and flowing prairies. Then the forest had not heard the sound of the woodman's ax, nor the plow of the husbandman opened the bosom of the earth. Then the beautiful prai- ries waved their golden bloom to the God of nature ; and among the most luxuriant of these were those which lay along the Hockhocking valley, and especially that portion of it on which the town of Lancaster now stands. This place, for its beauty, its richness of soil, and picturesque scenery, was selected as a location for an Indian village. This afforded a suitable place for the gambols of the In dian sportsman, as well as a central spot for concentrating the Indian warriors. REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 41 Here the tribes of the west and north met to counsel, and from this spot led forth the war-path in different directions. Upon one of those occasions, when the war spirit moved mightily among those sons of nature, and the tomahawk leaped in its scabbard, and the spirits of their friends, who had died in the field of battle, visited the warrior in his night visions and called loudly for revenge, it was ascertained at the garrison above -the mouth of the Hockhocking river, that the Indians were gathering in great numbers for the purpose of striking a blow on some post of the frontiers. To meet this crisis, two of the most skilled and indefatigable spies were dis- patched to watch their movements and report. White and M'Cleland, two spirits that never quailed at danger, and as unconquerable as the Lybian lion, in the month of October, and on one of those balmy days of Indian sum- mer, took leave of their fellows and moved on through the thick plum and hazel bushes with the noiseless tread of the panther, armed with their unerring and trusty rifles. They continued their march, skirting the prairies, till they reached that most remarkable prominence, now known by the name of Mount Pleasant, the western term- ination of which is a perpendicular cliff of rocks of some hundreds feet high, and whose summit, from a western view, towers to the clouds and overlooks the vast plain below. When this point was gained, our hardy spies held a position from which they could see every movement of the Indians below in the valley. Every day added a new accession of warriors to the company. They wit- nessed their exercises of horse-racing, running foot-races, jumping, throwing the tomahawk, and dancing — the old sachems looking on with their Indian indifference, the squaws engaged in their usual drudgery, and the children m their playful gambols. The arrival of a new war-party was greeted with terrible shouts, which, striking the mmaJ 48 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF face of Mount Pleasant, were driven back in the various Indentations of the surrounding hills, producing reverbera- tions and echoes as if ten thousand fiends were gathered at a universal levee. Such yells would have struck terror to the hearts of those unaccustomed to Indian revelry To our spies this was but martial music — strains which waked their watchfulness, and newly strung their veteran courage. From their early youth they had been always on the frontier, and were well practiced in all the subtilty, craft, and cunning of Indian warfare, as well as the feroc- ity and bloodthirsty nature of these savage warriors. They were, therefore, not likely to be insnared by their cunning, nor without a desperate conflict to fall victims to their scalping-knives or tomahawks. On several occa- sions, small parties left the prairie and ascended the mount from the eastern side. On these occasions the spies would hide in the deep fissures of the rocks on the west, and again leave their hiding-places when their uninvited and unwelcome visitors had disappeared. For food they depended on jerked venison and corn tread, with which their knapsacks were well stored. They dare not kindle a fire, and the report of one of their rifles would bring upon them the entire force of the Indi- ans. For drink they depended on some rain-water which still stood in the hollows of some of the rocks; but in a short time this store was exhausted, and M'Cleland and White must abandon their enterprise or find a new supply. To accomplish this most hazardous enterprise, M'Cleland, being the oldest, resolved to make the attempt; and with his trusty rifle in his hand and their two canteens strung across his shoulders, he cautiously descended, by a circui- tous route, to the prairie, skirting the hills on the north, and under covert of the hazel thickets he reached the riv T er, and turning a bold point of a hill, he found a beau- tiful spring within a few feet of the river, now known by REV, JAMES B. FIN LEY. 49 the name of the Cold Spring-, on the farm of D. Talmadgc, Esq. He filled his canteens and returned in safety to his watchful companion. It was now determined to have a fresh supply of water every day, and this duty was per- formed alternately. On one of these occasions, after White had filed his canteens, he sat a few moments watching the limpid ele- ment as it came gurgling out of the bosom of the earth, when the light sound of footsteps caught his practiced ear, and upon turning round he saw two squaw r s within a few feet of him. Upon turning the jut of the hill, the eldest squaw gave one of those far-reaching whoops peculiar to Indians. White at once comprehended his perilous situa- tion. If the alarm should reach the camps or town, he and his companion must inevitably perish. Self-preserva- tion compelled him to inflict a noiseless death on the squaws, and in such a manner as, if possible, to leave no trace behind. Ever rapid in thought and prompt in ac- tion, he sprang upon his victims with the rapidity and power of the lion, and grasping the throat of each sprang into the river. He thrust the head of the eldest under the water. While making strong efforts to submerge the younger, who, however, powerfully resisted him, and during the short struggle with this young athletic, to his astonishment she addressed him in his own language, though in almost inarticulate sounds. Releasing his hold she informed him that she had been a prisoner for ten years, and was taken from below Wheeling, and that the Indians had killed all the family, and that her brother and herself were taken prisoners, but he succeeded, on the second night, in making his escape. During this narra- tive White had drowned the elder squaw, and had let hei float off with the current, where it would not probably be found out soon. He now directed the girl to follow him, and witn his usual speed and energy pushed for the 4 hQ a CTO BIOGRAPHY OF mount. They had scarcely gone half way when they heard the alarm cry some quarter of a mile down the stream. It was :upposed some party of Indians, return- ing from hunting, struck the river just as the body of the squaw floated past. White and the girl succeeded iL reaching the mount, where M'Cleland had been no indif- ferent spectator to the sudden commotion among the Indi- ans. The prairie parties of warriors were seen immedi- ately to strike off in every direction, and White and the girl had scarcely arrived before a party of some twenty warriors had reached the eastern acclivity of the mount, and were cautiously and carefully keeping under cover. Soon the spies saw their swarthy foes as they glided from tree to tree and rock to rock, till their position was sur- rounded, except on the west perpendicular side, and all hope of escape was cut off. In this perilous condition, nothing was left but to sell their lives as dear as possible, and this they resolved to do, and advised the girl to escape to the Indians and tell them she had been taken prisoner. She said, "No! death to me, in the presence of my own people, is a thousand times sweeter than captivity and slavery. Furnish me with a gun, and I will show you I can fight as well as die. This place I leave not. Here my bones shall lie bleaching with yours, and should either of you escape you will carry the tidings of my death to my few relations." Remonstrance proved fruitless. The two spies quickly matured their plan of defense, and vig- orously commenced the attack from the front, where, from the very narrow backbone of the mount, the savages had to advance in single file, and without any covert. Feyond this neck the warriors availed themselves of the locks and trees in advancing, but in passing from one to the othei they must be exposed for a short time, and a moment's exposure of their swarthy forms was enough for the un- erring rifles of the spies. The Indians being entirely REV. JAMES B. FIN LET. 51 ignorant of how many were in ambuscade, made them the more cautious how they advanced. After bravely maintaining the fight in front and keep- ing the enemy in check, they discovered a new danger threatening them. The arch foe now made evident prep- arations to attack them on the flank, which could be most successfully done by reaching an isolated rock lying in one of the ravines on the southern hill-side. This rock once gained by the Indians, they could bring the spies under point-blank shot of the rifle without the possibility of escape. Our brave spies saw the hopelessness of their situation, which nothing could avert but a brave compan- ion and an unerring shot. These they had not; but the brave never despair. With this impending fate resting upon them, they continued calm and calculating, and as unwearied as the strongest desire of life and the resistance of a numerous foe could produce. Soon M'Cleland saw a tall and swarthy figure preparing to spring from a covert so near to the fatal rock that a bound or two would reach it, and all hope of life then was gone. He felt that all depended on one single advantageous shot; and although but an inch or two of the warrior's body was exposed, and that at the distance of eighty or a hundred yards, he resolved to risk all, coolly raised his rifle to his face, and shading the sight with his hand, he drew a bead so sure that he felt conscious it would do the deed. He touched the trigger with his finger; the hammer came dawn, but in place of striking fire, it broke his flint into many pieces; and although he felt that the Indian must reach the rock before he could adjust another flint, he pro- ceeded to the task with the utmost composure. Casting his eye toward the fearful point, suddenly he saw the war- rior sti itching every muscle for the leap ; and with the agility of the panther he made the spring, but instead of reaching the rock, he gave a most hideous yell, and his 52 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF dark body fell and rolled down the steep into the valley below. He had evidently received a death shot from somo unknown hand. A hundred voices re-echoed, from below, the terrible shout. It was evident that they had lost a favorite warrior as well as being disappointed, for a time, of the most important movement. A very few minutes proved that the advantage gained would be of short dura- tion ; for already the spies caught a glimpse of a tall, swarthy warrior cautiously advancing to the- covert so recently occupied by his fellow-companion. Now, too ; the attack in front was renewed with increased fury, so as to require the incessant fire of both spies to prevent the Indians from gaining the eminence ; and in a short time M'Cleland saw a warrior making preparations to leap to the fatal rock. The leap was made, and the Indian turn- ing a somerset, his corpse rolled down the hill toward his former companion. Again an unknown agent had inter- posed in their behalf. This second sacrifice cast dismay into the ranks of the assailants, and just as the sun was disappearing behind the western hills the foe withdrew for a short distance, to devise some new mode of attack. This respite came most seasonable to our spies, who had kept their ground and bravely maintained the unequal fight from nearly the middle of the day. Now for the first time was .the girl missing; and the spies thought that through terror she had escaped to her former captors, or that she had been killed during the light; but they were not long left to conjecture. The girl was seen emerging from behind a rock and coming to them with a rifle in her hand. During the heat of the fight she saw a warrior fall who had acR&nced some distance before the rest, and while some of them changed their position she resolved at once, live or die, to possess herself of his gun and ammunition ; and crouching down beneath th* underbrush, she crawled to the place and succeeded in REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 63 er enterprise. Her keen and watchful eye had early no- iced the fatal rock, and hers was the mysterious hand by which the two warriors fell; the last being the most intrepid and bloodthirsty of the Shawnee tribe, and the leader of the company which killed her mother and sis- ters, and took her and her brother prisoners. Now, in the west, arose dark clouds, which soon over- spread the whole heavens, and the elements were rent with the peals of thunder. Darkness, deep and gloomy, shrouded the whole heavens: this darkness greatly em- barrassed the spies in their contemplated night escape, supposing that they might readily lose their way, and ac- cidentally fall on their enemy; but a short consultation decided the plan ; it was agreed that the girl should go foremost, from her intimate knowledge of the localities, and another advantage might be gained in case they should fall in with any of the parties or outposts. From her knowledge of their language, she might deceive the nentinels, as the sequel proved; for scarcely had they de- scended a hundred yards, when a low whist from the girl warned them of their danger. The spies sunk silently to the ground, where, by previous engagement, they were to remain till the signal was given, by the girl, to move on. Her absence, for the space of a quarter of an hour, began to excite the most serious apprehensions. Again she ap- peared, and told them she had succeeded in removing two sentinels to a short distance, who were directly in their route. The descent was noiselessly resumed, and the spies followed their intrepid leader for a half mile in the most profound silence, when the barking of a dog at a short distance apprised them of new danger. The almost simultaneous click of the spies' rifles was heard by the girl, who stated that they w T ere now in the midst 01 the Indian camps, and their lives now depended on the most profound silence, and implicitly following her foot- &4 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF steps. A moment afterward, the girl was accosted by * squaw, from an opening in her wigwam : she replied in the Indian language, and, without stopping, still pressed forward. In a short time she stopped, and assured the spies that the village was now cleared, and that they had passed the greatest danger. She knew that every leading pass was guarded safely by the Indians, and at once re- solved to adopt the bold adventure of passing through the center of the village, as the least hazardous , and the sequel proved the correctness of her judgment. They now steered a course for the Ohio river, and, after three days' travel, arrived safe at the block-house. Their es- cape and adventure prevented the Indians from their con- templated attack ; and the rescued girl proved to be the sister of the intrepid Corneal Washburn, celebrated in the history of Indian warfare, and as the renowned spy of Captain Simon Kenton's bloody Kentuckians.* Robert M'Cleland was afterward, in 1794, a spy in Wayne's army ; and few men were ever his equal in ac- tivity, courage, and enduring perseverance; and, as we are giving specimens of the backwoodsmen, we will fol- low M'Cleland in the history of his life, as it was known and narrated by others. Colonel John M'Donald, in his Sketches of the West, and who was also a spy in Wayne's army, and personally acquainted with M'Cleland, gives the following account of him : General Wayne, to secure his army from the possibil- ity of being ambuscaded, employed a number of the best woodsmen the frontier afforded to act as spies or rangers. Captain Ephraim Kibby, one of the first settlers of Co- lumbia, above Cincinnati, commanded the principal pari of the spies. A very effective division of the rangers was *lara indebted to General Sanderson, of Lancaster, for this interesting narrative REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 56 commanded by Captain William Wells, who had beeE taken prisoner by the Indians when a youth. He grew to manhood with them, and was well acquainted with al their wiles and stratagems. About eighteen months pre- vious to this campaign, he left them and returned to civ- ilized life; he was well acquainted with several of their l*ngu?.g«s, and could converse fluently. Attached to his command were a few choice spirits. Henry Miller and his brother Christopher had been both taken prisoners when quite young, adopted into an Indian family, and reared up with them; and Henry lived with them till he was twenty-four years of age. About this time, although adopted into all their customs and manners, he thought of making his escape, and returning home. This he com- municated to his brother Christopher, and tried to per- suade him to accompany him ; but all his arguments were ineffectual. Christopher was very young when made a captive ; he was now a good hunter, an expert woodsman, and, in the full sense, a free and independent Indian. Henry set off alone, and arrived safe in Kentucky. Cap- tain Wells was well acquainted with him during their cap- tivity, and knew that he possessed that firm intrepidity which would render him a valuable companion in time of need. To these were added Messrs. Hickman, Thorp, and M'Cleland. Colonel M'Donald says he was one of the most athletic and active men on foot that has ap- peared on this globe. On the grand parade at Fort Greenville, where there was a very little declivity, to s"how his activity he leaped over a road-wagon with the cover stretched over it. The wao-on and bows were eigRt feet high from the ground. Captain Wells and his four companions were privileged gentlemen in camp, «nd onlv called on to do duty on certain special occasions, and when on duty went well mounted. The headquarters of the army being at Fort Greenville, in the month of June Gen- 50 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF era! Wayne dispatcned Captain Wells, M'Uleland, and Miller, wi'h orders to bring into camp an Indian prisoner, in order that lie might interrogate him as to the future intentions of the Indians. They proceeded with cautious steps through the Indian country, crossed the St. Mary's, and thence proceeded to the Auglaize river, without meet- ing any straggling Indian. In passing up the Auglaize they discovered a smoke, and, dismounting, tied theii horses, and proceeded cautiously to reconnoiter the ene- my. They found three Indians camped on a high, open piece of ground, clear of brush or underwood. They found it would be difficult to approach within gunshot, without being discovered. At a proper distance from their camp, they saw the top of a tree which had been blown down, and full of leaves. Believing this would answer their purpose, and screen them from observation, they returned, went round, and crept on their hands and knees with the noiseless movement of the panther. The Indians were engaged roasting their venison, talking and laughing, not dreaming that death was stealing a march upon them. Having arrived at the fallen tree, their mode of attack was soon settled. They determined to kill two of the enemy, and take the third prisoner. M'Cleland, who was almost as swift on foot as a deer, was to catch the Indian, while to Miller and Wells was confided the duty of shooting the other two; one was to shoot the one on the right, and the other the one on the left; and at the sharp crack of their rifles, two fell; for their aim was at the heart. Before the smoke of the powder had risen six feet, M'Cleland was running at full stretch, with tom- anawk in hand, for the Indian. The Indian bounded off ac the top of his speed, down the river. But, continuing m that direction, he discovered that M'Cleland would nead him, and he turned his course. The river here had a bluff bank, about twenty feet high. When he came to REV. JAMES B. FIN LET . 57 the bant, he sprang down into the river, the bottom of which was soft mud, and he sunk up to his middle. At this moment, M'Cleland came to the top, and sprang on him without hesitation. As they were wallowing in the mire, the Indian drew his knife; M'Cleland raised his tomahawk, and told him to throw down his knife, or he would instantly kill him. This he did, and surrendered without further resistance. By this time, Wells and his comrade came to the bank, and discovered that they were both sticking in the mud. As the prisoner was now secure, they went round and helped drag the prisoner out of the mud, and tied him. He was very sulky, and re- fused to speak either English or Indian. One went for the horses, while the other two washed the prisoner. When washed, he turned out to be a white man, but still refused to speak, or give any account of himself. After they had scaiped the dead, they set out, with the prisoner, to head- quarters. While on their return, Henry Miller began to admit the idea that it w r as possible the prisoner might be his brother, whom he had left with the Indians some years previous. Under this impression, he rode along side of him, and called him by his Indian name. At the sound of 1113 name he started, and eagerly inquired how he came to know his name. The mystery w r as solved ; the pris- oner was indeed Christopher Miller, his brother. A mys- terious Providence appeared to have placed Christopher Miller in a position by which his life was preserved. Had he been standing on the right or left, he would have been killed. When they arrived at camp, the prisonei was placed in the guard -house. General Wayne fre- quently interrogated him; he continued sulky. Captain Wells and Henry Miller were constantly with him, and at length prevailed on him to relinquish his thoughts of returning to savage life, and to join with his brother and wnite friends. He finally assented to their proposition, 68 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF was released, and well mounted, and became one of Wells's party. As soon as Captain Wells and company had rested themselves and horses, they were anxious foi another ad- venture with the red men. Time without action becomes very irksome to such stirring spirits. Early in July they again left Greenville. Their company was now increased by the addition of Christopher Miller. Their orders were to bring in prisoners They pushed through the country, all mounted, dressed, and painted in the best Indian style. Near the Auglaize, they met a single Indian, and called on him to surrender. This Indian, notwithstanding there were six to one, refused to obey : he leveled his riile, and, as the whites approached, he fired, but missed his mark, and took to his heels. The undergrowth of brush was so thick, that he gained on them. M'Cleland and Christo- phei Miller dismounted, and M'Cleland soon overtook him. The Indian, finding himself overtaken, turned, and made a blow at M'Cleland with his rifle; and as M'Clel- and's intention was not to kill, he kept him at bay, til! Miller came up; then they closed in on him, and made him prisoner. They then returned to headquarters, at Fort Greenville. Their prisoner was a powerful Potta- watamie cnief, whose prowess and courage were scarcely equaled. As Christopher Miller had acted his part on this occasion to the satisfaction of his comrades he had, as he merited, their entire confidence. As it is not the intention to narrate all the lets of these spies attached to Wayne's army, although it would be a most interesting narrative to western readers, we have selected a few of the adventures performed by Captain Wells and his intrepid companions, and especially of Rob- ert M'Cleland. History, in no age of the world, fur- nishes so many instances of repeated acts of bravery, as were performed by the frontier men, especially of westers REV. JAMES B. FIN LEY. 59 Pennsylvania, Virginia, and Kentucky ; yet these act*; of desperation were so frequently repeated by numbers, thai they were scarcely noticed at the time as being any othei than the common occurrences of the day. There can be no doubt that during General Wayne's campaign, Weils and his comrades brought in not less than twenty prison- ers, and killed more than an equal number. Desperate as they were in combat, that bravery was only a part of their merit, as the following circumstance will show : On one of their tours through the Indian country, as they came to the bank of the river St. Mary's, they discov- ered a family of Indians coming up the river, in a canoe. They dismounted, and concealed themselves near the bank of the river, while Wells went upon the bank, in open view, and called to the Indians to come over; and, as he was dressed like them, and could speak their lan- guage as well as themselves, and they not expecting an enemy in that part of the country, without any suspicion of danger, came over. The moment the canoe struck the shore, Wells heard his comrades cock their rifles, as they prepared to shoot down the whole company. But whc should be in the canoe but Wells's Indian father and mother — with whom he had lived — and their children ! He called on his comrades, who were ready to pour the deadly fire, to desist. He then informed them who these Indians were, and solemnly declared that if any one did injure one of them, he would put a ball through his head. He said to his men, that that family had fed him when hungry, clothed him when naked, and kindly nursed him when sick, and, in every respect, were as kind and aft'ec- tiona 3 to him as they were to their own children. This short, pathetic speech found its way to the sympathetic hearts of his leather hunting-shirt comrades, although they would have made but a shabby appearance, on being introduced to a fashionable tea party, or into a splendid 60 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF baL-room, among polished grandees, or into a ceremo- nious levee, to pass through unmeaning becks, bows, and courtesies. The present was a scene of nature and grati- tude. They all at once entered into their leader's feel- ings. There never was a truly-brave man who could hold back his tear of sympathy at the joy, grief, or sor- row of his fellow-man. It is the timid coward who is cruel when he has the advantage. These hardy soldiers approved of the motives of their captain, threw down their guns and tomahawks, went to the canoe, and shook hands with the trembling Indians in the most friendly manner. Captain Wells assured his Indian friends they had nothing to fear from them, and advised them, as Gen- eral Wayne was coming with an overwhelming army, to make peace, and his Indian father to take his family, and get out of all danger. They then bid them farewell, and they departed in haste. This act does honor to the hearts of these desperadoes in fight, and shows largely thai real gratitude of heart which alone belongs to truly-brave men. Early in the month of August, when the main army had arrived at the place where Fort Defiance was built, General Wayne wishing to know the intentions and situa- tion of the enemy, dispatched Captain Wells and his com- pany to bring in another prisoner. The army now lay within forty-five miles of the British fort at the mouth of the Maumee river, and they would not have to travel far till they would find Indians. As the object was to take a prisoner, it was necessary for them to keep out of the way of large parties. They went cautiously down the Maumee till within two miles of the British fort, where stood an Indian village. All being dressed and painted as Indians, they rode into the village as if they had come from the fort, occasionally stopping and talking with the Indians in their own language. Na suspicion was excited, ttEV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 61 tne Indians believing they were from a distance, and had come to take part in the expected battle. After they had passed the village some distance, they met an Indian man and woman on horseback, who were returning from a hunting expedition. This man and woman were made captives without resistance. They then set off for headquarters. As they were proceeding up the Maumee after dark, they came near a large en- campment of Indians, who were merrily amusing them- selves around their camp fires. Their prisoners were ordered to be silent under pain of instant death. They went round their camp with their prisoners till they got half a mile above them, where they halted to consult on their future operations. After consultation they con- cluded to tie and gag their prisoners, ride back to the In- dian camp and give them a rally, in which each should kill his .Indian. This they did — rode boldly into the In- dian camp and halted, with their rifles lying on the pom- mel of their saddles. They inquired when they had heard of General Wayne and the movements of his arm) ? how soon and where the battle would be fought? The Indians who were standing around them were very communica- tive, and without suspicion. At length an Indian, who was sitting some distance from them, said in an under- tone of voice, and in another tongue, to some who were near him, that he suspected that these strangers had some mischief in their heads. Wells overheard what was said, and gave the preconcerted signal, and each fired his rifle into an Indian not six feet distant. At this instant the Indians arose with their rifles in their hands, and as soon as Wells and his party fired they wheeled and put spurs to their horses, laying with their breasts on the horses necks, so as to lessen the mark for the Indians to fire at. They had not got out of sight of the camp fire till the Indians shot at them. As M'Cleland lay close on his 62 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF horse's neck he was shot, the bail passing under his shoul der-blade and coming out at the top of his snouldei Captain Wells was shot through the arm on which he carried his rifle, and it fell. The rest of the party or their horses received no injury. There was in this terrific encounter a display of confi dence and self-possession almost unparalleled. They had escaped in so many desperate combats that they seemed to be entirely insensible to danger. As they had no rivals in the army, they aimed to outdo all their former exploits. To ride into an enemy's camp and enter into conversa- tion with them, without betraying the least appearance of trepidation or confusion, shows how well their hearts were steeled. Their actions of real life even rival the fictions of the Grecian poet. Homer sends forth his invincible hero, protected by the invulnerable panoply of Jupiter, to make a night attack upon the enemy. Diomede makes the suc- cessful attack upon sleeping foes. Not so with our west- ern heroes. They boldly went into the midst of the enemy while their camp fires were burning bright and they were on the watch, and openly commenced the work of death. After having performed this chivalrous act, they rode at full speed to where their prisoners were tied, mounted them on horses, and set off for Fort Defiance. Wells and M'Cleland were severely wounded, and to Fort Defiance, a distance of thirty-five miles, they had to ride before they could rest or have the aid of a surgeon. One of the party was dispatched at full speed for a guard and surgeon. As soon as the tidings of the wounds and perilous condition of the spies reached the fort, without a moment's delay a dispatch of the swiftest dragoons and a surgeon were off to meet them. Suffice it to say, that they arrived safely in camp, and the wounded recovered in a short time ; and as the battle was fought and a brill- iant victory won a few days after, these brave and daring REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 63 spirits were not engaged in further hostilities. The war with the Indians was closed with a lasting treaty of peace in 1795. It will be natural for the reader to wish to know what became of those brave men — of Thorp, Hickman, and the fwo Millers. Concerning these history is silent; but like many other valorous backwoodsmen, if living, may reside in some poor cabin in the far west, unknown and unhori- ored. The brave Captain Wells fell, during the last war with England, on the 15th of August, 1812, near Fort Dearborn, at the mouth of the Chicago river. He was slain in an unequal combat, where sixty-four whites were attacked by upward of four hundred Indians. He fell, lamented by his whole country, and never fell a bolder or more intrepid spirit. Nothing more is heard of the intrepid M'Cleland till 1812. This hardy, brave, and ac- tive backwoodsman had returned to St. Louis from an ex- pedition across the Rocky Mountains. He had been to the Pacific Ocean, at the mouth of the Columbia river. Such a tour through uncultivated, unpeopled oceans of prairie, and such labor through the tempestuous bursts of storm, sleet, and snow that whirled in almost continual tornadoes around the hights of frightful rocks which com- pose these dreary mountains, where winter eternally reigns; such a tour, I repeat, was equal to the daring genius of a man like M'Cleland. Washington Irving, in his Astoria, gives the following description of M'Cleland. He says he was a remarkable man. He had been a partisan under General Wayne in his Indian wars, where he distinguished himself by his fiery spirit and reckless daring, and marvelous stories were told of his exploits. His appearance answered to his character. His frame was meager but muscular; show: ;ng strength, activity, and iron firmness. His eyes were dark, deep set, and piercing. He was restless, fearless, 64 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF bul# of impetuous and, cometimes, ungovernable temper He was invited by Mr Hunt, the partner of Jacob Astor, to join the party for the mouth of the Columbia river This he did, about four hundred and fifty miles up the Missouri river, and for the special purpose of taking revenge on a party of Indians that had robbed him and his partner — Crooks — some time before. This robbery, by the Sioux, was instigated by Emanuel Lisa, the lead- ing partner and agent of the Missouri Fur Company. This intelligence so roused the fiery temper of M'Cleland, that he swore if he met with Lisa in the Indian country he would shoot him on the spot — a mode of redress per- fectly in unison with the character of the man and the code of honor prevalent beyond the frontier. I will close the history of this extraordinary man by giving one more specimen of his character. In returning, after sufferings almost indescribable, in passing across to the mouth of the Columbia river, his fare was no better. In company with Mr. Stewart and five others, they were robbed of all their horses by the Blackfeet Indians, in the fall of 1812, and had to combat all the perils of the jour- ney on foot. On a certain occasion, to avoid coming in contact with the perfidious savages, it was thought safest by all but M'Cleland, to cross some stupendous mountains than go round. At this M'Cleland demurred; and not- withstanding the remonstrances of his comrades, he turned a deaf ear and left them, and took his own way. Some days after, when they passed the top of the mount- ain, they saw M'Cleland at a distance in advance travers- ing the plain, and whether he saw them or not he showed no disposition to rejoin them. On the eleventh night after they parted, they met with signs of that wayward and solitary being, M'Cleland, who was still keeping ahead of them through those solitary mountains. He had en camped, the night before, on a small stream, where they KEY. JAMES B. FINLEY. 65 t .tind the embers of the fire by which he slept, and the icmains of a miserable wolf on which he supped. The L.ext day at evening, almost starved to death and with no prospect of food, they stopped to encamp, when they saw a smoke at a distance, which they hailed with joy, hoping it was some Indian's camp, where they might obtain something to prevent them from starving. They dispatched one of their company to reconnoiter. They waited till a late hour for his return. On the next morn- ing they set out early. They had not traveled far till they saw their comrade, whom they hastened to meet, in hope he had obtained something for them to eat; but i'4 this he had none. The smoke had arisen from the fire if M'Cleland, which had broken out while he was trying lo catch some small fish. When the party reached the place they found the poor fellow lying on a parcel of with- ered grass, wasted to a perfect skeleton, and so feeble he could scarcely raise his head to speak. The presence of bis old companions seemed to revive him ; but they had no food to give him, for they were almost starved them- selves. They urged him to arise and accompany them, but he shook his head. It was all in vain, for there was no prospect of relief, and he might as well die where he was. After much persuasion they got him on his feet, and while some shared the burden of carrying his rifle, he was cheered and urged forward. After one or two days' travel they succeeded in killing an old rundown buffalo bull, which preserved the whole party from starving. Suffice it to say, that the party sustained themselves through the winter, and the next spring arrived safely at St. Louis. From this M'Cleland returned to the wilder- ness, and there is no certain account of where or how he died Thus, reader, we have conducted you along with the history of ore of those intrepid and fearless spirits who 5 66 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF were the pioneers of the vast west, and he is a good spec iir.en of all the rest. It will take many volumes to record the daring deeds and the indescribable sufferings of those who penetrated the vast wilderness which now has risen to a mighty empire. Their dauntless and daring spirits have passed off unknown, unhonored, and unregarded; a new race has followed after, who are now reveling in ali the luxuries of the richest and most fertile spot on the globe. An anecdote is told of one of those adventurous tiap- pers, who had been trapping and trading for some years in the mountain passes, and came with his furs to St. Louis. He sold all his peltry and buffalo-robes, and had received three checks on the bank. He went into the bank to draw his money. His dress and appearance were those of a backwoods trapper, and the bank room being tilled with the gentry, they looked upon his greasy buck- skin hunting-shirt and leggins as though they feared he would touch them and spoil or soil their delicate clothing; and after looking all round the room and its inmates, he threw down his first check; this was cashed. He then threw down his second, and then his third. The gentle- men began by this time to look at one another, and the cashier said, "Where are you from, sir?" The trappei replied, "Just from the moon, sir." "How did you get down, sir?" "Why, I just greased my hunting-shirt, sir, and slid down on a rainbow." Here, gentle reader, permit me to record my testimony with others, and say to you and to generations unborn, that there never lived a nobler race of men on the green earth, than those pioneers of the great valley of the Mis sissippi, from Finley and Boone down to General William Henry Harrison, who had the honor and glory of closing the long and bloody British and Indian war, which had lasted for more than fifty years ; and no man, of any taste REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 07 or genius, can read the accounts of the settlement of this vast wilderness, and the daring deeds of valor displayed by the first adventurers, without feeling* the highest de- gree of admiration at their patriotism and unflinching per- severance. While every young and true-hearted Ameri- can will feel himself identified with them, and have a filial regard for their memory, while he beholds them, like a Boone, a Kenton, a Finley, and a Stewart, treading the lonely desert, and braving the horrors of savage rage and fury, amid the distress of famine and war, he admires their courage, and is interested with the thrilling accounts and their narrow escapes from death, as well as their per- severance and toil in turning this most delightful and richest of all countries into the fruitful field and smiling garden, and opening the way for millions of our race to enjoy the' inestimable blessings of religion and liberty. No class of men ever acted more nobly, or conferred a greater temporal blessing on posterity ; nor did ever any make greater sacrifices ; danger, poverty, and death were their constant companions. It is said by a wise man, that ingratitude is a sin of greater magnitude than witchcraft; and thousands now live at their ease, and roll in their wealth, who can not feel toward those brave men as I do. They stood, with gun and tomahawk in hand, between our mothers and their children and the incensed and re- vengeful rage of the red man. They were our guardians from savage barbarity; their names were precious then, and still are to those for whom they ventured their lives and their all. In those days of blood and carnage all were warriors. Our mothers, like the women of Amazonia, were trained to war, and could handle the rifle with great dexterity, and the children were trained up to be soldiers from childhood. A boy ten years old was counted able to carry arms, and fight; and at sixteen would enter the regular service. One of this age was enlisted as a soldier 00 AUTOBJOGRAPHY OF in the last war; his captain asked him, ''John, can you ride and carry a gun?" "I can try, sir." "Can you shoot, John?" "I can try, sir." "Can you fight Indi- ans, John?" "I can try, sir," said the lad. At one time, when on a scouting party with his captain, they were chased by a body of Indians, and crossing a prairie one pressed them hard. The captain said, "John, can you light olF when we get to those woods and shoot that Indian?" He sprang from his horse, drew his rifle to his face, and fired ; down fell the Indian. After they arrived ai camp the captain called him up and said, "John, when 1 enlisted you, I was afraid that you would not stand fire, but would run." John said, "I am not one of that breed, sir'' KEV. JAMES B. FINLEY. b'U CHAPTER III. LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS. The first settlers could not have sustained themselves, n ad it not been for the wild game that was in the country. This was their principal subsistence; and this they took at the peril of their lives, and often many of them came near starving to death. Wild meat, without bread or salt, was often their food for weeks together. If they obtained bread, the meal was pounded in a mortar, or ground on a hand-mill. Hominy was a good substitute for bread, or parched corn pounded and sifted, then mixed with a little sugar and eaten dry; or mixed with water was a good beverage! On this coarse fare the peo- ple were remarkably healthy and cheerful. No com- plaints were heard of dyspepsia: I never heard of this fashionable complaint till I was more than thirty years old ; and if the emigrants had come to these backwoods with dyspepsia, they would not have been troubled long with it; for a few months' living on buffalo, venison, and good, fat bear-meat, with the oil of the raccoon and opos- sum mixed up with plenty of hominy, would soon have effected a cure. Their children were fat and hearty, not having been fed with plum-pudding, sweetmeats, and pound-cake. A more hardy race of men and women grew up in this wil- derness than has ever been produced since; with moie common sense and enterprise than is common to those who sleep on beds of down, and feast on jellies and pre- serves ; and although they had not the same advantages 70 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 0* of obtaining learning that the present generation have, yet they had this advantage — they were sooner thrown upon the world, became acquainted with men and things, and entirely dependent on their own resources for a living. A boy at the age of sixteen was counted a man in labor and hunting, and was ready to go to war; and now, one of that age hardly knows the road to mill or market. Their attire was in perfect keeping with their fare. The men's apparel was mostly made of the deer's skin. This, well dressed, was made into hunting-shirts, oanta- loons, coats, waistcoats, leggins, and moccasins. The women sometimes wore petticoats made of this most com- mon and useful article ; and it supplied, almost univers- ally, the place of shoes and boots. If a man was blessed with a linsey hunting-shirt, and the ladies with linsey dresses, and the children with the same, it was counted of the first order, even if the linsey was made of the wool of the buflalo. On some occasions, the men could pur- chase a calico shirt; this was thought to be extra; for which they paid one dollar and fifty cents or two dollars in skins or furs. And if a woman had one calico dress to go abroad in, she was considered a finely-dressed lady. Deer's hair or oak leaves was generally put into the moc- casin, and worn in place of stockings or socks. The household furniture consisted of stools, and bedsteads made with forks driven into the ground and poles laid on these, with the bark of the trees, and on this beds made of oak leaves, or cattail stripped off and dried in the sun. They rocked their children in a sugar trough or pack-sad- dle. The cooking utensils consisted of a pot, Dutch oven, skillet, frying pan, wooden trays and trenchers, and boards made smooth and clean. The table was made of a broad slab. And with these fixtures, there never was a heartier, happier, more hospitable or cheerful people. Their inter- ests were one, and their dependence on each other was EEV. JAMfJS B. FINLET. 71 ?.! dispensable, and all things were common. Thus united, they lived as one family. They generally married early in life — the men from eighteen to twenty-one, and the girls from sixteen to twenty. The difficulties of com- mencing the world were not so great; and, as both parties were contented to begin with nothing, there was no look- ing out for fortunes, or the expectation of living without labor. Their affections were personal and sincere, which constituted a chief part of their domestic happiness, and endeared them to home. The sparkling log-fire in the back- woods cabin, the gambols of half a dozen cheerful, healthy children, and the smiles of the happy wife and mother, made an earthly paradise. Nothing could excite more Hilarity than a backwoods wedding. Most generally, all the neighborhood, for miles around, were invited ; and if it was in the winter, there would be a log-heap or twc somewhere near the cabin. Around these fires the men assembled with their rifles ; the women in the cabin ; and if there was a fiddler in the neighborhood, he must be present at an hour stated. The parson, if one could be had, if not, the Justice of the Peace, called the assembly together, then the couple to be married. After the cere- mony was over, and all had wished the happy pair much joy, then, if it could be had, the bottle passed round ; the men then went some to shooting at a mark, some to throwing the tomahawk, others to hopping and jumping, throwing the rail or shoulder-stone, others to running foot- races; the women were employed in cooking. When din- ner was ready, the guests all partook of the very best venison, bear-meat, roast turkeys, etc. This being over, the dance commences, and, if there is no room in tht* cabin, the company repair to or near one of the log-fires: there they dance till night, and then they mostly return home ; yet many of the young people stay, and perhaps Irince all night on a rough puncheon floor, till the inoc- 72 AUTOBioGRAlUr OF cas.ns are worn through. The next day is the infair: the same scenes are again enacted, when the newly-married Dair single off to a cabin built for themselves, without iwenty dollars' worth of property to begin the world with, ♦md live more happily than those who roll in wealth and lortune. I recollect, when a boy, to have seen a pair of those backwoods folks come to my father's to get married. The groom and bride had a bell on each of their horses' necks, and a horse-collar made of corn-husks on each horse, to pay the marriage fee. The groomsman had a bottle of whisky in his hunting-shirt bosom. When they had entered the house, the groom asked if the parson was at home. My father replied that he was the parson. Then said the groom, "May it please you, Mary M'Lain and I have come to get married. Will you do it for us?" "Yes," replied my father. "Well, then," said the groom, "we are in a hurry." So the knot was tied, and the groomsman pulled out his bottle of whisky to treat the company. He then went out, and took the collars off the horses of the bride and groom, and brought them in as the marriage fee; and soon after they started for home, in Indian file, with the bells on their horses open, to keep the younger colts which had followed them together. The manner in which the cabins were built, I have de- scribed elsewhere. The chimneys were built on the inside of the house, by throwing on an extra log, three feet and a half from the wall, on which to build the chimney , from this it was carried up with sticks and clay, to the roof of the house, and some two feet above it. The whole width of the house was occupied for a fireplace, and wood ten or twelve feet long could be laid on ; when burned in two in the middle, the ends could be pushed up, so as to keep a good fire through a long winter's REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 7$ night. When there was but one bed in the cabin, it was no sign that you would not have a good night's rest; for, after supper was over, and the feats of the day about hunting were all talked over, the skins were brought forth — bear, buffalo, or deer — and spread down before a sparkling fire, and a blanket or buffalo robe to cover with ; and you could sleep sweetly as the visions of the night roll over the senses, till the morning dawn announced the approach of day. There were no windows, and but one opening for a door; this was generally narrow, and the shutter made of two slabs, or a tree split in two, then hewed off to the thickness say of six or eight inches, then set up endwise, and made with a bevel to lap over. The fastenings consisted of three large bars, fastened to staples in the walls. The floor, if not of the earth, was of hewn slabs, and covered with clapboards. These cab- ins, if there was some care taken in putting down the logs close together, and they were scutched down, would make the sweetest and healthiest habitations that man can live in. They are much healthier than either stone or brick houses ; and I have no doubt but that there is a greater amount of health and happiness enjoyed by the inmates of the former than the latter. All the mills that the early settlers had, was the hom- iny block or a hand-mill. The water-mills or horse-mills were so far off, that it was like going on a pilgrimage to get a grist; and besides the toll was so enormously high — one half being required for grinding the other half — that they preferred doing their own milling. Almost every man and boy were hunters, and some of the women of those times were expert in the chase. The game which was considered the most profitable and useful was the buffalo, the elk, the bear, and the deer. The smalier game consisted of raccoon, turkey, opossum, and ground-hog. The panther was sometimes used for food. 74 AUTOBIOGR APHT OF and considered by some us good. The flesh of the wolf and wild-cat was only used when nothing else could be obtained. The buffalo is of the kine species, with a large hump on its shoulders, generally of a dun color, with short, thick horns. The male buffalo is distinguished from the female by having a short mane. They go usually in large droves or herds, feeding on cane in the winter. They frequent salt-licks ; and in going to and from these places they beat large roads. Buffaloes were abundant in Kentucky, and were used by the first settlers as their most common food. They have a very shaggy or woolly skin. The wool was often spun and woven into cloth by the women ; and sometimes it was mixed with raccoon fur and knit into stockings, which were very warm and serviceable. The fashionable clothes cut out of the finest French and English broadcloths, and made in such a style as to provoke the idea that they were designed to invite instead of protect us from the chilling blasts of winter, would bear no comparison with the warm and comfortable clothing which was worn at that day. After the wool was taken off, the hide answered a vain able purpose. Being cut into strips and twisted, it made strong tugs, which were used for plowing. It was also made into plow -lines, bed-cords, etc. When dressed it was made into shoe-packs, or a kind of half shoe and half moccasin. The way of hunting the buffalo was in the following manner: A Company was formed, well supplied with dogs and guns. Being mounted on horses, they started for the woods. When a herd was found, one of the company would creep up softly and fire into theii midst ; then the whole company would rush in upon them with their dogs, which would throw them into confusion, After all had discharged their pieces the dogs would attach ' R K V . JAMES B . F I N L E Y . 71> them; and while they were engaged in fighting with the clogs, the hunters would have time to reload and pursue the chase. After the conflict was over they would return and collect the spoil. To enable the horses to carry them, they would take out the entrails and split them in two, and then throw them over the pack-saddles and carry them home. The elk is of the deer or moose species. It resembles the deer very much in form, but it is much larger. It has large branching horns, which sometimes erow to an enormous size. To look at the forest of horns which they carry on their heads, one would think it impossible for them ever to make their way through the woods. 1 have seen these antlers so large, that when set up on their points a man six feet high could pass under them without stooping - . The flesh of the elk is coarse and dark, like that of the buffalo, but has a good taste ; is nutritious and easily digested. This animal, like the buffalo, is gregarious m its habits. They go in large droves, and can be easily taken if the leader is first killed by the hunter. The leader is, generally, some old doe. If the hunter is suc- cessful in finding her out and shooting her, the whole drove is thrown into confusion and easily captured ; but if he be mistaken, on the first alarm they bound away with the velocity almost of lightning, and run three or four miles in a straight line without stopping. They are very sagacious. If an old buck is wounded he will fight most desperately, and woe betide the man who comes within the swing of his horns. The skin of the elk serves many useful and valuable purposes. The bear seems to be sui generis, bearing no particular resemblance to any other animal in this country. They are generally black, and when fat their skins are well cov- ered with a loose fur. The flesh of the bear is the most delicious, as well as the most nutritious, of any food. 80 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF When they are fattened on beech-nuts, the oil of this am mil is the most penetrating of any in the world. The bear seems to be an awkward, clumsy, inactive animal ; but this is far from being the case, as any one has reason to know who has been chased by them. They can climb the highest trees with great facility. When lean they can run with great rapidity and tight with tremendous fury, especially when wounded or bereaved of their cubs. They will become immensely fat on good mast, so much so that it is sometimes difficult for them to move very, quickly. When rendered thus unwieldy, they will, by a peculiar instinct, seek some cave in a rock "or hollow tree. where they will hibernate; and about the latter part of March, waking from their winter's sleep, they will come forth to greet the opening spring. Should they wake at any time during the winter, they will not leave their place, but suck their fore-paws till they fall asleep again. After dissection, the alimentary canai has been found to contain from one to two gallons of oil. This oil is pure and unmixed. Various conjectures have been given to account for the existence of this oil ; but the most plausible is, that it is taken up by the absorbent ves- sels and thrown into the canal for the purpose of supply- ing the wants of nature in the absence of food. If they have young ones they will remain longer in and about their winter quarters. When they come out they seek for some green vegetables, especially for the nettle-weed, which they take as a medicine for its purgative properties. She bears have from one to three cubs. At tirst they are quite small, not much larger than a kitten. They arc destitute of hair, and blind till about the tenth day. Of all the young animals I have ever seen they are the mosi uncomely. Notwithstanding their ungainly appearance, the mother is tenderly attached to her cubs, and will pro tect them to the last. REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 81 Bears seldom go in droves or herds, except in the month of August, at which time they are considered by the hun- ters as the most ravenous. The cubs usually stay with their dams about a year, when they start out to seek a living for themselves. These animals display a wonder- ful instinct. They seem not only to be competent judges of the best kind of mast, but they know exactly where tc find it. They will go as directly from one part of the country to the other, in quest of food, as though they un- derstood thoroughly its geography. They act with won- derful concert; and if one bear finds a place where mast is good and plenty, all in the woods will be apprised of it in some way or other. They all seem to start at once, and no two of them together; but they all take the same course and arrive at the same place. They prefer the beech-nut to any other food ; next to this the chest- nut and chestnut oak; then the acorn. If all these nuts happen to be plentiful in one year, the hunter knows pre- cisely where to go to find the game, as all kind of game prefer the beech-nut. Should there be no beech mast, then he must go to the chestnut, and if these fail, to the white and black oak woods. These things form part of the hunter's study. These animals become very poor in the summer and live on lesser animals, if they can take them, or upon the wild honey which they take from the yellow-jacket or bumblebee. They will turn over large logs in quest of this food. The sting of the bees does not deter them, especially if hungry. They will get all the honey, and then hasten to a bear- wallow or a branch of water, and throwing themselves into the same, will thus get rid of their assailants. At this season of the year they attack the swine, and have been known to carry off large hogs. Sometimes they are defeated when they get into a drove of hogs. Instead of running they will attack them, and 6 82 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF frequently bruin has to run for a tree to save his life Once my comrade in the woods heard a wonderful noise among a gang of hogs, and they came running from al. quarters, attracted by the grunting and squealing. He crept up softly to see what was the cause of all this com- motion, and found that they had treed a bear, who had stolen a pig from the gang. He shot at the bear and wounded him. Bruin, letting 20 all holds, fell to the ground, whereupon a hot contest ensued, in which the swine were victorious, tearing their enemy to pieces with- out mercy. They were also very troublesome in our corn- fields about roasting-ear time — entering them in the night and destroying the corn. They sometimes attacked per- sons and killed them. The hunter, or backwoodsman, for all backwoodsmen were hunters, made his summer bacon out of bear-meat. He would take out the fat and salt it — if he had salt — and then hang it up to smoke. The fat was rendered into oil, which was put away in deer skins, neatly and cleanly dressed, for the purpose. This oil served many valuable purposes to the hunter, supplying the place of butter and hog's lard. He could fry his venison and turkey in it; and if he had neither of these, it was admi- rable sop for his corn-dodger; and when mixed with his jerk and parched corn, was regarded as one of the great- est delicacies of a hunter's larder. The bear is hunted with dogs, and if they are well trained but few will escape. They are remarkably afraid of the dogs ; and as they will attack them no where else than at their hind legs, which are very tender, thev tree as soon as possible, and generally remain till the hunter can come up and shoot them. Sometimes, however, they will let go and fall fifty or sixty feet without doing them- selves the slightest injury. Often, when fat, they go to a hole in a tree and must, be sought for. A well-trained hunter can tell by the marks of the claws in the bark of REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 83 the tree, whether the bear is holed or not. A tree or sap- ling is fallen and lodged against the one in which is the bear. If a tree should be near, the hunter takes a long, slim pole, attaches some spunk or rotten wood to it, climbs up as far as the hole, and, igniting the end, sets fire to the hole, which is filled with rotten wood. He then de- scends and gets his gun, and awaits the appearance of bruin, who, being unable to stand the fire, rushes out in great rage and meets his fate. If he has made his den in the rocks, greater caution is necessary ; for if he should only be wounded, the hunter must be prepared for a swift retreat or a single combat with spear or tomahawk. These animals, in the fall, be- fore the time of mast, climb up trees, pull in the limbs, and gather the fruit, which is called lopping. Often the hunter steals up and kills them; but if they should hap- pen to see him before he fires they let all go and fall down. Some fifty-six years ago, one of the first emigrants to Kentucky went out to cut a broomstick and saw a bear lopping. He concluded he could kill it with his ax, and crawling up noiselessly to the root of the tree, he no sooner arrived there than down came bruin at his feet. Mr. M. immediately made a blow with his ax, but it was dexterously warded off by the bear and wrested out of his hands. The bear then seized him by the left arm and disabled it. It then made an effort to seize him by the face, but the intrepid hunter caught the nose of the bear in his teeth and held him fast. In the strusra'le he was thrown down, but not disheartened ; he thrust his thumb into the eyes of the bear and gouged them both out of their sockets. Bruin screamed most piteously, and soon help came, when it was killed and the hunter relieved from his perilous position. Some years after, some of Mr. M.'s friends coming out to the west asked him, 34 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF "How do you and the bears make it?" His reply was, "They can't stand Kentucky play. Biting and gouging are too hard for them." The deer is the most beautiful wild animal that roams in American forests. They change their color three times a year, and every winter they cast their horns. The color they assume in the spring is red, in the fall it is blue, and in the winter it is gray. Their skins are the most valua- ble when in the red or blue. In the gray they are worth but little. The meat of this animal is the sweetest and most easily digested of all animal food. Who does not like venison? Besides, they are decidedly the cleanest of all animals, living entirely upon vegetables. No vegeta- ble poison affects them, and they live all winter upon lau- rel. There is something exceedingly strange in their ani- mal economy. They have no gall, and, therefore, do not need this agent to digest their food. They herd more in the winter than in summer. The does have seldom more than two fawns, whose skins are covered with white and red spots. They are careful to keep from their enemies, which are many, and among which man is not the least. The fawns have no scent by which they can be tracked by the wolf or the dog; and as the dam leaves them when very young, this constitutes a great preservative. When they are hungry they bleat like a lamb, and the low wail falling upon the keen and sensitive ear of the mother, she hastens to supply her young with food, which being ac- complished she leaves them again. About June they begin to follow the doe, and soon learn to run from their pursuers. The dam is often decoyed and shot by the crafty hunter, whose fawn-like bleating brings her immediately into his presence. The death- de-aling ball pierces the mother's heart, and the fawn is left to perish without her care. In giving this sound of distress, it often happens that other animals seeking prey REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 87 are attracted by it, and, coming together, a terrible con- flict ensues. The hungry panther and bear, or the bear and wolf, meet in deadly conflict, and one or the other Jails a prey to the hunter who witnesses the scene. Once, in company with my comrade, we were traveling in the woods, and having a load of meat on our backs we sat down to rest ourselves. While we were resting, I said to my companion, "John, these logs — having been newly turned over — look as though a bear might be in the vicin- ity. Suppose I bleat him up." "Do," said he. I then made a noise like a fawn in distress, and soon we heard she brush cracking. "Here he comes," said I, and, sure enough, old bruin made his appearance. Coming within two rods of where we were standing, he rose upon his hind feet, and placing his fore feet on a log looked all around for his prey. A ball from one of our rifles soon dispatched him. I have often brought wolves within gunshot in like manner. But we are not done with the history of the deer. The skin was manufactured into almost all kinds of clothing, such as hunting-shirts, waistcoats, pantaloons, leggins, petticoats, moccasins, sieves, wallets, and, sometimes, shirts. It was perhaps to the backwoods families the most useful of all animals. The dressing of deer skins did not require a long process. As soon as the skin was off the deer's back, while yet warm and green, was the best time to begin the graining process, which was as follows : The brains of the animal were dried on a board before the fire, then they were put into a cloth and washed out in warm water, which made a kind of suds, into which the skin was put,, and after being well rubbed was taken out and wrung as dry as possible. Then it was pulled and worked over a board, made for the purpose, till it was dry. It was then taken again through the same process, with tho 8S AUTOBIOGRAPHY Of exception that the bram water was stronger, and worked till it became soft, when it was hung up and smoked with rotten hickory wood for a short time, and was then ready for use. The ladies had but little time to devote to mak- ing clothes for the gentlemen, and but little was required, as the fashions were then as simple as the material out of which the clothes were made. They generally cut out the garment with a butcher-knife and used an awl in the place of a needle, and the sinews of the deer instead of thread. With this article the moccasins are always made when they are made neatly, though sometimes they were made with a whang cut from the skin. A hunting-shirt made of this article will wear a lon^ time. The huntino- shirt is a very comfortable garment in cold weather, and when worn awhile and well saturated with deer's tallow •or bear's oil, will turn the rain like a goose's back ; and for the brush and green-brier there is nothing so good. The deer is taken by what is called still-hunting. Great skill is necessary in being able to find out and accommo- date one's self to the habits of this animal. A skillful hunter can generally tell by the weather and the direction of the wind, where to go to find deer. As they are very watchful, it takes a noiseless step and a good look-out to steal a march upon them. As they often go to licks, hunters make blinds near by in which they conceal them- selves. A great many are killed at night, being decoyed by the light of a fire. For this purpose a fire is built in the bow of a canoe, which is left to float down the stream. The hunter can steer it directly toward them. The dee) on the shore, becoming fascinated by the light, will gaze upon it till the canoe comes directly against them. This is generally considered an unfair way of hunting, and it is not used by the regular hunter. The panther, though much dreaded, is a fearful animal, und unless wounded will run at the first appearance of fiEV. JAMES B. FIN LEY. 93 man or dog, and will tree as quick as a cat. When sud denly surprised, however, it is dangerous. It is carnivo* rous, and makes prey of the lesser animals of the forest When hungry it is exceedingly ferocious and ravenous, and will attack a man. Their proper mode of attack is made by leaping from a tree upon their victim. They select a tree near to a deer-lick or path, and watch till they see the prey. When sufficiently near, with fearful precision they spring from their hiding-place upon the back of their victim, and fastening their long claws and teeth in the body, they hold them till they are exhausted with pain and fatigue and yield to death. They watch their prey, and will fight for it to the last. Their flesh is good to eat, and their skins, when well tanned, make good razor-strops and tolerably good shoes. The wolf is the most sneaking and thievish of all ani- mals, and of the least use. He is seldom seen in the day- time, but prowls about and howls all night. He lives a prey on the world, is remarkably cowardly, and will never attack unless he has greatly the advantage, or is forced to fight. The wolf, like all useless animals and obnoxious things, is very prolific, and were it not for their almost constant state of starvation, would soon fill the world. They have a kind of instinctive dialect. When they have been disappointed in seeking their prey, they will set up the most terrific and hideous howling. One of them can make such a chorus of howls as to make you think there are a dozen. Their skin is worth but little, except, it is said, it is good for drum-heads; and their flesh is never eaten, except by those who may be in a starving condition. The raccoon is a valuable animal, both as an article of food .and for the fur. Its color is grayish. Its skin, in- cluding, of course, the fur, in early times, was in good demand, and the backwoodsmen used it as a kind of cir- culating medium in the absence of coin and bank notes, 94 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF and it "vas universally current, always being considered a lawful tender. "Fouf coon-skins were considered a dollar, and such were vastly more valuable than an Owl Creek or Red Dog bank note, which often proved, to the pos- sessor, to be of no more value than a rag. The coon is domesticated with little labor, but he is quite mischievous as well as cunning and shy. Coons live on mast, and sometimes on flesh. They are great lovers of poultry, and understand well the art of robbing a hen-roost. They are fond also, like the Frenchman, of frogs, which they catch with great dexterity, and which they prepare for their meals with all the nicety of an epicurean. They are fond also of corn, and will enter the field and help them- selves bountifully. Many were the sports, in an early day. connected with coon-hunting. They are a nocturnal ani- mal, and hence they are hunted in the night. Dogs, well trained to the business, will find them and tree them. When this is accomplished, the next thing is to cut down the tree or send up some one to shake them off. Many are the anecdotes that are told of coon-hunt»rs. A laugh- able one is related of a clerical friend of mine during his younger days. He was out with a party one night coon- bunting, and the doo-s having treed an old coon, it was determined, by the party, that our friend should climb the tree and shake him off, so that the do<>s might catch him. Accordingly he ascended, and stealing softly from branch to branch, in search of the coon, he finally espied him snugly ensconsed on one of the topmost branches, a some- what interested spectator of the scene which was transact- ing below. Proceeding cautiously, he reached the limb below that on which was the coon. Raising himself jp for the purpose of reaching the limb which he intended to shake, the one on which he stood was heard to crack and began to give way. He was now thirty feet from the ground Aware of his perilous condition, he cried out to .REV. JAMES B. FIN LEY. 95 his companions below, "I'm falling. " Seeing his danger and that nothing scarcely less than a miracle could save him from death, they besought him to pray. "Pray," said he; "I haven't time; I can't pray." "But you must pray. If you fall, you will be killed." He then commenced repeating the only prayer he knew: "Now I lay me down to sleep;" but he could proceed no further, as the cracking of the limb indicated its speedy severance from the trunk, and he cried out at the top of his voice, "Hold the do^s; I'm coming." And sure enough, down he came with a crash ; and the dogs, thinking it to be the coon, were with difficulty restrained from attacking the coon-hunter, who was considerably stunned by the fall. A negro obtained permission from his master to start out coon-hunting one night, and on seeing his master in the morning, who was anxious to know about his success, related the following: "Well, massa, you know I treed de coon, and I climbs up to shake him oft* de limb. When I got by him, I begins to shake, and presently 1 hearn something drap, and what does you think it was, massa?" "Why, the coon to be sure." "No it wan't, massa; it was dis here nigga." It appears that, instead of shaking oft' the coon, he shook himself off. Coons are sometimes caught in traps and dead-falls. A hunter will sometimes make a great many, and go round twice a week to examine them, and in this way will take from ten to twenty at a time. Another plan is adopted late in the fall, which is to make fire-hunts; which is done by setting fire to the leaves in a circle including an area of several miles. As this fire advances toward the center, it drives the coons up the trees, and the deer and other game are brought together into what is called a pound, where they are shot. The opossum is an ugly and deceitful animal. If you strike him, he will roll over, and appear as if dead, and 96 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF as soon as you leave him he starts up and hastens to his den. His tail is entirely bare, and serves many good pur- poses to the animal. He is not easily shaken off' a tree, like the coon, but clings to it with the greatest tenacity, winding his tail around the limb, and defying all efforts to shake him down. A hard-shell Baptist preacher once introduced this animal into his discourse, to illustrate the doctrine of final perseverance. The female opossum has a kind of sack, in which she carries her young. The flesh of this animal is like that of the young pig; the oil J s abundant, and answers well to burn in lamps, or grease harness. The flesh of the opossum and new corn mush was considered a most delicate dish among backwoods families. Their skins, when dressed, are as white as the skin of the chamois, and make fine gloves for backwoods ladies. A hunter's life is one of constant excitement. He is always on the look-out, and filled with constant expecta- tion. His narratives always possess a thrilling interest, and are listened to with the greatest attention. His wants are but few, and he is not disturbed with cankering care about the future. His employment does not lead him to covetousness, and he is always characterized by a gener- ous hospitality. His hut or cabin is always a sure asylum for the hungry and destitute. Who ever crossed its threshold, and was turned away unfed and uncared for? The poor and the stranger will feel much better in the log-cabin, partaking of its hospitalities by a cheerful (ire, than when surrounded by the cold constraint of a nabob's table. With these sous and daughters of nature will be found the genuine hospitalities of nature's noblemen. I will close this chapter with a few remarks on the dress of those days. The backwoodsman usually wore a hunting-shirt and trowsers made of buckskin, and moc- casins of the same material. His cap was made of coon REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 97 afcin, and sometimes ornamented with a fox's tail. The ladies dressed in linsey-woolsey, and sometimes buckskin. A gradual improvement, however, took place m the man- ners and customs of the people. About the period in which the British forces at York- town surrendered, the colonists were in a complete state of transition. Commerce began to revive. Many small prizes were taken by the American cruisers, brought in, condemned, and sold. Many merchant vessels, richly laden, sailing under the protection of the French flag, reached in safety their ports of destination ; and the mer- chandise thus brought in soon found its way into the inte- rior, and was exchanged for skins, furs, ginseng, black and Seneca snake roots, sarsaparilla, etc. In search of those roots the mountains were traversed, and employ- ment given to vast numbers of persons. The effects from thence resulting soon manifested them- selves in the improved dress of the females, as well as in the furniture of each household, and in many other par- ticulars. Singing and common reading schools began to be encouraged, and males and females vied with each other in the culture of their intellects, conversational powers, and address. There were several ancient families m Oldtown and its vicinity, who, in early life, had been well educated, whose wealth enabled them to procure tne richest articles of dress and furniture to be had in the cities. By them the ancient customs and fashions of the English were kept up, till modified or changed by the introduction of French customs and manners. Prior to the commencement of the transition indicated, Jbe dress of females, as at present, greatly differed. Among the laboring classes, the usual summer dress con- sisted of a tow or linen chemise, short gown, and petti- coat, which extended down a little below the calf of the leg. without stockings or shoes, The hair was either tied 7 98 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF in a liard knot on the nape of the neck, or plaited ana confined on the top of the head; and their toilet was completed either with or without a coarse neckerchief. The dress on gala days of Uiose who moved in the higher circles of society also varied. Their shoes differed from those worn by ladies of the present day in this: they had high heels. Those heels were made of wood, beau- tifully tapered, neatly covered with leather, and varied in hight from one to two inches. The under clothing waa confined by stays, tightly laced. The outer covering was composed of the richest brocade, or other silks and satins, and stomacher, neckerchief, gloves, rings, and ruffles in profusion. The hair was combed forward, and a cushion, suited to the form of the head, varying from three to six inches in hight, was placed upon the top of the head, over which the hair was neatly spread, and fastened be- hind with a comb and ribbons, by which a rich, towering plume of feathers was also fastened. A lady in full dress, entering a drawing-room, would appear to be as tall as a May-pole, if not as cadaverous as a death's head. Th<». bonnet was of enormous size, and usually measured from three to three and a half feet in circumference. Hence, against the form of dressing here indicated, the rule in the Methodist Discipline was framed: "Give no tickets to any who wear high heads, enormous bonnets, ruffles, or rings." The rule has become a dead letter among preachers and people. KKV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 99 CHAPTER IV. NARRATIVE CONTINUED. In the summer of 1794 General Wayne crossed the mountains with an army, for the purpose of quelling the Indians. After a successful battle, in which "Mad An- thony," as the Indians termed him, became a terror to ah the tribes, he was enabled to effect a treaty with them at Greenville. This gave the country rest and quiet from the horrors of Indian war, and brought about a new era in the history of the west. Immigration poured into Kentucky like a flood, and vast multitudes engaged m land speculation. Whole tracts of country were sold by these speculators with or without title, and thousands were stripped of their all. Dispos- session was carried on to so great a length that many be- came utterly dissatisfied, having bought their farms two or three times over, and they began to look elsewhere for a habitation. The North-western territory was beginning to open to western enterprise, and my father and his. congregation resolved to seek a new home. Many of them had paid every farthing they had for land ; had encountered all the dangers of an Indian warfare in settling it, and had spent the vigor of their strength in clearing and bringing it un- der cultivation; and just when they found themselves be- ginning to live comfortably, some other claimant would come and dispossess them of their homes. In vain did they seek redress of those from whom they purchased; for more frequently than otherwise did it happen that he 100 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF was some land harpie himself. So odious did those men become, who engaged in land speculation, that they were looked upon generally as a class of villains; and when- ever the poor farmer went to search for them they were gone, and they had hopelessly to return, and in a penni- less condition seek a new home. In view of this state of things, my father addressed the following letter to General Massie, for a copy of which 1 am indebted to his son, N. Massie, Esq., of Chilicothe : "Bourbon County, Kr., December 12, 1794. "Sir, — After compliments to you, I take the liberty ot addressing you for information. I understand you have a large quantity of land on the Scioto and Paint creek foi sale. I would be pleased to know its qualities, and what' advantages two large societies could have. A number have thought of purchasing fifteen or twenty miles square for the settlement of two congregations, and have been informed that you could supply us. Sir, I request, the favor of you, by Mr. Rogers, the bearer, to furnish me with the situation, quality, and the quantity you could sell, and what would be your price per hundred acres, and what your terms of payment, by taking such a quantity of land as would be sufficient to settle two congregations, or say three hundred families. But it is probable the present circumstances of the country would require some time to make a settlement in it with prudence. You will please let me know at what time this winter it would meet your convenience to go with us and show us these lands, A number of us would love to see the advantages which the country will afford for such a settlement. Your com- pliance will. much oblige your humble servant, "Robt. W. Finlet. "Mr. Nathaniel Massie, Esq." The next spring was fixed on by the parties to visit the country and explore the land. REV. JAMES B. ElNl'EY. j 01 Accordingly, while General Wayne was treating with the Indians, at Greenville, a company of forty persons met at Manchester, on the Ohio river, with the intention of exploring the Scioto country. General Massie was the principal in this expedition. My father and several of his congregation formed a part of the company. After pro- ceeding cautiously for a number of days, in a northerly direction, they reached Paint creek near the falls. This stream is a tributary of the Scioto, and, with the Scioto, waters one of the finest agricultural countries in the world. Here they- discovered fresh traces of Indians, the signs being such as to indicate that they could not be far off. They had not proceeded far till they heard the bells on their horses. Some of the company were what was called new hands, and previous to this had been very anxious to smell Indian powder. One of the old men remarked, on witnessing their anxiety, "If you get a sight of the Indians you will run, or I am mistaken." A coun- cil was called of the most experienced in Indian warfare, and the result of their deliberations was, that it was too late to retreat with safety and without great danger. They resolved, as the best possible course, to attack the enemy by surprise. It was agreed that General Massie, Fallen- ash, and my father should take the command and lead on the men, and Captain Petty was to bring up the rear. The Indians were encamped on the bank of Paint creek precisely where the turnpike now crosses it, at what was called Reeves's old crossing. Out of the forty in com- pany only about twenty engaged in battle. Those who were so anxious to smell Indian powder retreated, and Captain Patte reported them as having taken refuge be- tween old logs and other defenses, trembling with fear. The remainder advanced cautiously till within fifty yards, when they fired and rushed into the Indians' camp. As- tounded by this attack, the Indians fled down the bank lOl! AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF and across the stream, many of them leaving their guns Several were killed and wounded One of the company — Mr. Robinson — was shot, and died in a few minutes. Th>. Indians were Shawnees, and would not go to the treaty. They had a prisoner with them, who, in the fight, made his escape, and finally succeeded in reaching his home. His name was Armstrong. As soon as the company could bury the dead and gather up the horses and plunder of the Indians, they directed their course to Manchester; but night overtook them on Scioto Brush creek, and as they expected to be followed by the Indians, they stopped and made the necessary preparations for defense. The next morning, an hour before daylight, the Indians made their appearance, and opened upon them a vigorous fire, which was promptly and vigorously returned. Those who would not fight took shelter from the balls of the enemy in a large sink-hole in the bounds of the encampment. After a hot contest, which lasted an hour, the Indians were repulsed and fled. One of the party of the whites was wounded in the battle, but not mortally. As soon as preparations could be made for departure they left, and the next day reached Manchester, and thus ended the ex- pedition for that time. In the spring of 1796, about the last of April, anothei company met at Manchester for the purpose of proceeding to the Scioto Valley and raising a crop of corn, and mak- ing other preparations for removing in the fall or winter, and so make a permanent settlement. Some of this com- pany proceeded by land, and others by water. Those who took the land route took their horses well ladened, and those who went by water carried the farming uten- sils and the necessary breadstuffs. There was no road, not even a path or a way blazed through the deep forest. In all the route there was no inhabitant. All was a per- fect and continuous wilderness to Wheeling, Virginia. EEV. JAMES B. E1NLEY. 103 Near where the town of West Union now stands, there was one cabin built by Mr. Oiler, but no one lived in it. The pioneers, however, entered upon their journey, and found their way without much difficulty, arriving safe at the place of their destination, which was a beautiful prai- rie, below where Chilicothe now stands, called the Station prairie. Their companions, after a laborious voyage up the Scioto, arrived safely and joined the overland party. Theirs were the first crafts of the white man that stemmed the rapids of the Scioto. Here in this prairie the plow of the white man first turned up the virgin soil. The prairie being plowed, the corn was planted, and all that the husbandman had to do, was to brush down the weeds with a wooden harrow. With such simple cultivation a large crop was produced. Mr. Kilgore raised on one acre one hundred and twenty-five bushels of corn without any fence to inclose his field. During this summer General Massie laid out the town of Chilicothe, and Mr. John M'Coy raised the first log- cabin. This pioneer habitation was followed by several others during the fall and winter. The place where Chil- icothe now stands was a hickory flat, and so plentiful were the nuts that they might have been raked up in almost any quantity. This fall Mr. Zane, by a contract with the Government, marked out a trace, through the wilderness, from Wheel- ing to Maysville. This was done by merely blazing the trees and bushes ; and with this guide the traveling com- menced. Soon great companies passed over Zane's trace, and settlements were made at the Muskingum river, where the town of Zanesville now stands, and also on Wills creek. There were several points toward which the atten- tion of the emigrant was directed ; such, for instance, as the Muskingum, Hock-Hocking, and Scioto Valleys, with their tributaries. The population in these valleys in 104 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF creased with a rapidity unknown to any countiy before so great, that, in a period of fifty years, from a population of three thousand, Ohio has increased to two millions. The blazed road of the white man and the war-path of the Indian have been cleared out and paved with stone, over which roll post-coaches at the rate of ten miles an hour; or have been laid with iron tracks, over which the locomotive with its numerous cars attached is propelled at the rate of forty miles an hour. Beside this, canals, ex- tending across the state, have united the waters of the lakes of the north with the rivers of the south. Splendid steamers, resembling floating palaces, which make the earth tremble with the thunder of their steam and the roar of their machinery, covered with passengers, and freighted with the commerce of the world, have taken the place of the canoe, the broadhorn, and the keel-boat, as coaches, canal boats, and railroad cars have taken the place of the pack-horse, the ox-cart, and the covered wagon. Instead of the log-cabin with its rude furniture, we have stately palaces with the most elegant and costly furniture ; the tables of which groan with the luxuries of every clime. Instead of villages with trees, stump%, and bear-wallows in the streets, we have magnificent cities with streets extending for miles, all paved, and brilliantly illuminated with gas, the burners of which are almost as numerous as the fire-flies which illuminated our meadows in olden times. Instead of the tedious process of the mail department, by which it took a letter several weeks to reach the seat of government, now the lightning, which had been caught by our Franklin, domesticated, and taught to speak by our Morse, will carry not only oui words, but our very thoughts over plains, rivers, valleys, and mountains — outstripping the horses and chanots of nre — almost instantly from one extreme of the continent to the other, annihilating space, and distancing time i'.self. KET. JAMES B. FINLEY. 105 Such a change never entered the most fervent imagina- tion of our backwoodsmen ; and he who would have inti- mated the possibility of such a thing, would have been set down as a lunatic. All we hoped for or expected, was to have some rich farms in these luxuriant bottoms, and always plenty of deers and bear on our hills. Even this was not likely to be realized, for immigration poured in upon us like the locusts of Egypt, and threatened to de- vour every thing. Keel-boats commenced running up the Scioto river, and we were constantly advised, by the boat- man's horn, of their arrival and departure. William Craig was the first man who drove a wagon and team to Chilicothe, over Zane's trace. It was a most tedious and difficult undertaking ; for he had to cut his way through for a distance of seventy miles. Pa- tience and perseverance, however, had its reward, and he with his family finally succeeded in reaching the encamp- ment. It would be impossible for me to describe the beauty of these rich bottoms. The soil itself for richness was not exceeded by any in the world. The lofty sugar-tree, spreading its beautiful branches ; the graceful elm, waving its tall head, the monarch of the forest; the black and white walnut; the giant oak, the tall hickory; the cherry and hackberry; the spicewood, with its fragrance; the papaw, with its luscious fruit; the wild plum; the rich clusters of grapes, which, hanging from the massy vines, festooned the forest ; and, beneath all, the wild rye, green as a wheat-field, mixed with the prairie and buffalo clo- ver — all formed a garden of nature most enchanting to behold. The clear and beautiful rivulet creeping through the grass, and softly rippling over pebbly bottoms, the gentle zephyrs freighted with nature's incense, pure ind sweet, regaled our senses, and filled us with delight. All nature had a voice which spoke most impressively to the i()(j AUTOBIOGEArnY off •>oul, and while all the senses were pervaded with an un utterable delight, the solemn stillness seemed to say, God reigns here. The song of the lark and nightingale, the melancholy wail of the dove or whistle of the whippowil, the low hum of the bee, .the chirping of the grasshopper, the bark ol the squirrel, the drumming of the pheasant, the bleat of the fawn, the growl of the bear, the hoot of the owl, the howl of the wolf, the scream of the panther, and the yell of the Indian, were all that broke the silence in this deep and beautiful forest. Although I had parted with my Kentucky home and her favorite cane-brakes, my much-loved school-mates and playfellows, with great reluctance, yet when I was intro- duced to the delightful scenes in Ohio, my tears were all dried up, and the beautiful cane-brakes were cheerfully resigned for the rich and more beautiful meadows enam- eled with flowers of every hue. I shall never forget the first night I took up my lodgings in the valley of Paint creek. It was near the falls. A large flock of wild geese, on their passage, had stopped for the night, and were sporting in the foaming waters just below the falls. They seemed to have met by concert, to hold a soiree or feast of rejoicing at the approach of spring. It was a calm and quiet day. The sun was throwing his last gentle rays among the branches of the towering elms which lined the banks of this beautiful stream, and the heavens were tinged with his mellow beams, just as we arrived at our destination, and unloading our horses, we unstopped their bells, and turned them out to feed on the grass and wild rye of the bottom. Soon the shades of night gathered around us. With spunk and steel we soon struck up a cheerful fire, and taking the corn-bread and bacon from our sacks, with the cool water of the" rivulet which glided by us, we slaked our thirst and had a good repast. After talking over the adventures of the day we rolled our- KEY. JAMES B. t^KLEt. 107 selves up in blankets and went into a refreshing slumber wnich lasted undisturbed till the gray beams of morning admonished us of the hour to rise. Resuming our jour- ney, we proceeded down main Paint creek, and in the afternoon of the same day reached our destination. With all the richness of the country, the beauty of its birds and flowers, the softness of the climate, and the fra- grance of the atmosphere, redolent as Eden, still it was earth, and the effects of sin had reached this charming abode. The new settlements were regularly visited with autumnal fevers. They were of the bilious type, and, sometimes, the symptoms resembled those of yellow fever. Bilious intermittens, or fever and ague, prevailed to a great extent. These were supposed to have been caused by the effluvia arising from the decomposition of the luxuriant vegetation which grew so abundantly every- where. These fevers were attended with great mortality, and the suffer- ings occasioned by them were immense. Often there was not one member of the family able to help the others ; and instances occurred in which the dead lay unburied for days, because no one could report. The extensive preva- lence of sickness, however, did not deter immigration. A desire to possess the rich lands overcame all fear of sick- ness, and the living tide rolled on heedless of death. In the summer of 1798 the bloody flux raged as an epidemic with great violence, and for a while threatened to depopu- late the whole town of Chilicothe and its vicinity. Medi- cal skill was exerted to its utmost, but all to no purpose, as but very few who were attacked recovered. From eight to ten were buried per day. At length a French trader, by the name of Drouillard, came and adminis- tered to the sick with great success, giving relief in a few hours, and, in almost every case, effecting a permanent -ure. During this summer an event occurred in Chilicothe 108 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF very unfavorable to the peace and safety of the country Mr. Stoops, preparatory to opening a house of entertain- ment, called together his neighbors for the purpose ot raising his house a story higher. In the evening an In- dian, of the Wyandott nation, somewhat intoxicated, came into t?wn and behaved himself very rudely at the raising He was reprimanded by Mr. Thomas Thompson, who was a very athletic man. The Indian drew his knife, and, concealing the blade of it in his arm sleeve, waited his opportunity to attack Thompson. A person who observed him advised him to leave for the camp ; for if Thompson should find out that he had drawn his knife he would kill him. The Indian mounted his horse, but refused to leave the place. Some one informed Thompson of his danger, and he immediately seized a handspike, and, striking the Indian on the head, felled him to the earth. That night the Indian died of his wounds and was carried to the In- dian encampment. As soon as the Indians learned the cause of his death they immediately demanded Thompson, that they might punish him according to their law, which was life for life; and informed the town that if he was not given up they would fall on the place and murder, in revenge, men, women, and children, which they could easily have done, as they were much more numerous than the whites. Some of the inhabitants were for complying, but the majority were opposed to it. After some consid- erable consultation it was agreed to try another method, which was to buy the life of the murderer by making presents to the relations of the murdered, and promising to punish the murderer according to our law. This plan succeeded, and Thompson was placed under guard of four men, there being no jail there at that time. After some two months he was permitted to make his escape, and one or the guards went with him. The half-brother of the deceased determining to avenge the death of his brother, REV. JAMES B. FIN LEY. 10'J Cook with him another Indian, and waylaying Zane's trace, they found two young men traveling alone, whom they killed and robbed of their horses and effects; and thus two innocent men paid the debt of a murderer, who, un- der the influence of whisky, committed the crime. Such were some of the evils and dangers brought on the com- munity by strong drink. The first public house, or hotel, kept in Chilicothe, was by a man by the name of Benjamin Urmstedt. The first store was kept by Mr. John M'Dougal. The first Presby- terian minister was the Rev. Robert W. Finley, and the first Methodist ministers were the Rev. Messrs. Harr and Tiffin. The first physician was Dr. Samuel M'Adow. The first Legislature met on the bank of the Scioto river, near the mouth of Mulberry-street, under a large syca- more-tree. This was entirely democratic, as the people represented themselves. The principal matter which oc- cupied the attention of this Legislature, was the enact- ment of a law for the suppression of drunkenness. It was the custom of the traders to give and sell whisky to the Indians, and the consequence was, that many of them became intoxicated ; and as a drunken Indian is a danger- ous creature, the peace of society was disturbed and the women and children were in a constant state of alarm, day and night. After mature deliberation and free discus- sion, it was enacted that all traders who sold spirits to the Indians, or in any way furnished them with intoxicating liquors, should be required to keep all the Indians 'made drunk by them in their own storehouse till they were sober, on penalty, for the first offense, of being repri- manded by two persons appointed for that purpose, and on the second offense, their kegs or barrels of whisky, 01 strong drink, were to be taken into the street and toma- hawked till all the contents were run out. This law was set at naught by one of the traders, a Mr. M., but h IJO AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF was promptly executed to the letter the next day after the sentence. This vigorous maintenance of the law, on the part of the citizens, made the traders more cautious, and i^ave more safety and comfort to the inhabitants. I will give an instance of another somewhat novel pun- ishment adopted in those times. A certain man stole some clothes from Mr. Crawford, and started out on the trace toward Zanesville. He was followed and overtaken with the clothes, which he had in his possession. A court was organized, and he had a fair trial by a jury of his own selection, who found him guilty, and sentenced him to ten lashes upon his bare back, or, if he preferred it, to mount a pack-saddle on his pony, and his wife — who was •i particeps criminis — was to take it by the halter and lead it to every door in town, and cry aloud, "This is Bran- non, who stole the big coat, handkerchief, and shirt." He chose the latter, which was executed fully. In the fall of 1796 my father set all his slaves free. He had been for years convinced that it was wrong to hold his fellow-men in bondage, and thus deprive them of their natural rights; and he was particularly impressed with the belief that there could be no civil regulation author- izing the possession of human beings as goods and chat- tels, that would justify a minister of the Gospel in living upon the sweat, and blood, and tears of his fellow-beings, as dear to Christ as himself, bought with the same pre- cious blood, and destined to the same eternity of exist- ence. Nor could he bear the idea, for a moment, of in- volving his children in the evils of slavery. Not, however, till the present period, of which I am writing, had arrived, had he the opportunity of carrying out the doctrines of practical emancipation. My grandfather having died and willed all his slaves to my mother and her children, mak- ing my father the sole executor of the estate, he iramedi ately went to Paris, Ky., and executed a deed of emanci REV. JAMES B. FINLKf. Ill oation to all the slaves, from the oldest to the youngest, amounting, in all, to fourteen. This being accomplished, he gave them all the offer of removing with him to the new country — as Ohio was then called — with provision for support for one year after their arrival ; with but two exceptions of those who desired to remain in Kentucky, this offer was accepted. Preparations being made for their removal, about the first of December in the year above named, twelve of the emancipated negroes were mounted on pack-horses, and started for Ohio. My father placed me in charge of the company, though I was but sixteen years of age. We carried with us clothes, bed-clothes, provisions, and cook- ing utensils. We were accompanied with parts of three families, with a great drove of hogs, cows, and sheep. After we crossed the Ohio river' it became excessively cold ; and, having no road but a path through the woods, we were not able to travel more than eight or ten miles per day. Some days we were under the necessity of lying by, it was so intensely cold. The colored people are, at best, a helpless race, and unable to stand the cold ; and it was with difficulty that some of them were kept from freezing. After sixteen days of toil and hardship, we reached our place of destination on the bank of the Scioto below Chilicothe. Here we built our winter camps, making them as warm as we could. Our bread was made of pounded hominy and corn meal, and we lived on this together with what we could find in the woods. For- tunately for us, game was plenty, and we caught opos- sums by the score. The colored people lived well on this food, and were as sleek and black as the raven. In the spring my father and the rest of the family moved out. and, as soon as we could erect a cabin, all hands went to work to put in a crop of corn. It was necessary to fence in the prairie, and every one 112 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF had to inclose with a fence as much ground as he had planted. The work of fencing fell to my lot. Myself and another lad built a camp, in which we lodged at night and cooked our provisions. We frequently killed turkeys and wild ducks, with which we supplied our larder, and with our johnny-cake, baked on a board before the fire, we had a good supply for a vigorous appetite. After our corn was gathered and laid by, the immi- grants came pouring into the country. From that time to the be^innW of March I traveled over the trace from Chilicothe to Manchester sixteen times. On one of these visits my brother John accompanied me, father having sent us by that route to Kentucky for seed- wheat. We took three horses with us, and after having procured the s-eed, we started back. On our homeward journey we found considerable difficulty in loading our horses with the bags. We could take them off when we stopped foi the night, without any difficulty, but how to replace them when we wished to start in the morning, was not so easy a matter. Necessity, however, which is the mother of inventions, taught us a way by which the difficulty was obviated. ■ It was this : when we wished to stop we would seek the largest logs, and unload upon them, by which means we had less difficulty in placing the bags on the backs of the horses. Thus we tugged our way through the wilderness, without seeing the face of a human being till we reached Paint creek. This wheat, I believe, was the first sown on the waters of the Scioto. This year our horses ran away, and my father sent me in company with an Indian, whom he had employed for that purpose, to go and hunt them. We had not gone four miles from the settlement, before the Indian was bit- ten by a rattlesnake on the ankle, betv een his leggin and moccasin. It was one of the large, yellow kind, full of poison. As soon as the Indian killed his enemy, he took KEV. JAMfcS B. FINLEY. 113 his knife, went a few paces, and dug up a root, the stalk of which resembled very much the stalk of flax, about nine inches long. The root was yellow and very slender, being no thicker than a knitting-needle. This root he chewed and swallowed. He then put more in his mouth, and after chewing it, put it upon the wound. Soon after he became deathly sick, and vomited. He repeated the dose three times, with the same result, and then putting some fresh root on the bite, we traveled on. The place where he was bitten after awhile became swollen, but it did not extend far, and soon subsided. This root is un- doubtedly the most effectual cure for poison in the world — a specif c antidote. I frequently hunted with John Cushon, an Indian of the Tuscarora tribe, and had good living and much fine sport. I became so passionately fond of the gun and the woods, and Indian life, that my parents feared I would go off with the Indians and become connected with them. They were as fondly attached to me as I to them; and notwithstanding I had heard so much of their treachery and savage barbarity, I felt that I could repose the most implicit confidence in them. The mode of living and manner of life, which consisted in hunting the buffalo, bear, and deer in the wild woods and glens, free from care and the restraints of civilization, made Indian life to me most desirable ; and so powerfully had these things taken hold of my youthful mind, that the advice and en- treaties of my beloved parents could scarcely restrain me from following it. My filial affection, however, overcame the love of the chase, and I was persuaded to resume the study of medicine, which I had commenced in Kentucky. Let it not be supposed that, though I was e. backwoods boy, I had not tasted of the sweets of classical literature. In my father's academy I enjoyed the advantages of a thorough drilling in Latin and Greek, and even now I can 8 114 AUTC BIOGRAPHY uF repeat whole books of the jEneid of Virgil and the Iliao of Homer. I could scan Latin or Greek verse with as much fluency as I can now sing a Methodist hymn ; and I could find the square root of a given number with as much precision as in my youthful days I could drive a center with my rifle. And yet, strange to say, my Eng- lish education was neglected. The first grammar placed in my hands was a Latin grammar, and I have no recol- lection of having studied the English grammar while a youth. Though I know it is said that the ancient lan- guages are more readily acquired in youth, and boys when very young are taught the languages, yet I doubt the propriety of this early devotion to heathen classics at the expense of Christian English literature. I am not sorry that I was educated in classical literature, but I am sorry that I was not first well grounded in my vernacular. In my father's academy, it being the first institution of learning in which the classics were taught in the western country, were many students who came from a distance; and among the number were the Howes, Robinsons, and M'Nemar, Dunlevy, Welsh, Steele, and Thompson, all of whom became Presbyterian preachers. Judges Trimble and Mills were educated here, and several students who afterward became doctors of medicine. Here my brother John and myself studied the Greek and Latin languages, and mathematics. For the study of medicine I had, I confess, but little inclination. My heart was away in the woods, and an Indian, my dog and gun had more charms for me than anatomy, surgery, and physiology. I think it perfect folly to give a boy any trade or profession for which he has no inclination. However, as I did not wish to diso- blige my parents, and did not wish to be a mere novice iu any thing, I bent down to my studies, with a full de- termination to understand the theory of medicine, though REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 115 I never intended to practice it. My recreations were with the gun in the woods, or the gig in killing fish in the river, which abounded with perch, buffalo, pike, cat-fish, and sturgeon. At all the sports of those days I considered myself a full hand. I spent several months in the woods surveying Congress lands for Thomas Worthington, Esq., afterward governor of the state. I finished my medical studies in the fall of 1800, and was admitted to practice. In connection with my precep- tor, I visited and prescribed for many sick, and have vanity- enough to believe that, had I continued, I would have made a respectable physician for the times. As I before remarked, not feeling at home in this profession, but being desirous of taking to the woods, I joined with three others and purchased a drove of fat cattle, and we started, in October, with them for the Detroit market. There were no roads, and we had to follow Indian paths from one vil- lage to another. We took the Indian path by Westfall to Franklinton, on the west bank of the Scioto, which has long since been outrivaled by the city of Columbus, and has gone into decay. Here we found several houses built by Dixon, Turner, Foose, Skidmore, and a few others. In consequence of the flies, which were exceedingly nu- merous and troublesome to the cattle in the woods, we remained here till November. After leaving Franklinton we took the path to Dela- ware, where were the famous sulphur springs, which we reached the first day. Here, right around these ancient springs, we were obliged to sit on our horses all night to prevent the cattle from running back. The next day we reached the Sandusky plains. This was a rainy day, and in riding through the woods we were as wet as if we had Deen in the river; and in addition to all this, we had noth- ing to eat but a little corn-bread. We were chilled with tjje rain, and it was with the utmost difficulty we could 116 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP start a fire. My companions despaired and began to wish themselves at home. My motto being nil desperandum, \ rallied them, and persevering in hope against hope, at length the spark from the smitten steel took effect, and none but those placed in the same situation could appreci- ate our joy, kindled by the light of a blazing fire. Here, on the waters of the Scioto, we passed a tolerably-com fortable night. The next day we resumed our journey, and passed on through Upper Sandusky.. Honey creek, and Lower Sandusky, till we reached the rapids of the Maumee, where we found a large Indian village. The inhabitants of this town had just finished their great fall dance and a drunken frolic, and were making preparations to start to their hunting-grounds; Being hungry and half starved, they demanded of us a steer for the privilege of driving through their country. I told them no, they could not have it, as the cattle were for the soldiers at Detroit. At this one of the Indians raised his rifle to shoot a steer, but riding instantly between him and the animal, I told him if he shot I would send a force of soldiers after him from Detroit, and he should be taken there to answer for his conduct. This had the desired effect, and we passed on unmolested. Continuing our journey, after a period of two weeks and five days, we arrived, with our drove, at the mouth of the river Rouge, five miles below Detroit, and in a few hours we found the end of our journey. The first thing, on arriving, was to effect a sale of the cat- tie. After six weeks, during all which time we lodged in a Frenchman's barn, we succeeded in selling our drove to a contractor of the army for a draft on the Government. Soon after the sale we left for home, with provisions suffi- cient to last us till we reached the Maumee rapids. Hav- ing arrived at this place, and our stock of provisions be- ing exhausted, we found it impossible to purchase any; and taking a string of corn, on which we subsisted, to- REV. JAMES B. EINLEY. 117 gether with some hazel-nuts, for two days, we arrived at Lower Sandusky. At this place we purchased of Whfta- ker a few quarts of flour and the half of a small deer. A short time before night we reached Honey creek, and con- cluded to stay there till morning. While my companions were engaged in disposing of the horses for the night, 1 kindled a fire and peeled some linn bark, and mixed up some flour to make what was called stick bread. This backwoods bread is made by peeling the bark off a stick, then wrapping the dough around it and turning it round before the fire, one end of the stick being in the ground. On this we made our evening's repast. A short time after dark an Indian ran by our camp in great haste. His silence and conduct excited our suspi- cions that all was not right. As we had driven our stock to Detroit, it might be supposed, by the Indians, who were aware of this fact, that we might have money, and this, together with our horses, might be an object with some ol the desperadoes that infested the Sanduskies. After we had partaken of our suppers, we caught our horses and took the path for Upper Sandusky. Pursuing our journey till midnight we came upon the camp of the Indian. He was much frightened at first, but he soon became com- posed, and we tarried all night together. The next. day we resumed our journey, and, after passing through Franklinton, in a few days arrived safe at home. In contrasting the present with the past, no one can fail to see what were the difficulties and dangers which the early pioneers encountered in traversing the country, and the courage and perseverance which were necessary in the various departments of life. Then there were no roads or means of transportation, and it took us nearly two months to perform the journey. Now, by railroad car and steamer, a drove of cattle could be transported in as many days from Cincinnati to D( troit, with greater 118 AUTOBIOGRATHr OF facility. No one can read the discovery and settlement of this new country without being deeply interested. In reading of the adventurous struggles of the bold and hardy pioneers, an American becomes a party in all the thrilling scenes of border life. While contemplating the dangers of the wilderness, the terrors of savage war, the want and distress through which they passed, he is filled with admiration at their self-denial, and the perseverance which characterized them in surmounting the obstacles, enduring the hardships, and braving the dangers to which they were exposed, that they might turn this unbroken wilderness into fruitful fields and gardens, and transmit to posterity the inestimable blessings of civil and religious liberty. The pious mind can not fail to see a Divine hand overruling and conducting the whole. The people of the United States have more reason to be thankful to Gou than any other people; for "he hath not dealt so with any nation." EEV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 3J9 CHAPTER?. BACKWOODS BIOGRAPHY. If history hi philosophy teaching by example, biog- raphy furnishes the examples which history records. ] have already alluded to some of the early pioneers, and shall continue to weave into my narrative biographical sketches of such distinguished individuals of my times as I shall deem most interesting to my readers. Captain Cassaday, of whom I have already spoken, was a native of Pennsylvania, and among the first intrepid adventurers to the cane-lands of Kentucky. He was a stout, well-formed man, and a valiant soldier. He settled about two miles from Stockton's Station, near where the town of Flemingsburg now stands. The place was called Cassaday's Station. At one time he was taken prisoner by the Indians. When a boy I have often heard him relate the circumstances connected with his captivity and escape. One day, while hunting in the woods, a party of Indians closed on him by surprise — for they were in ambuscade — and took him prisoner. They considered him a great prize ; and, taking him across the Ohio river, they traveled, without stopping, two days in the wilder- ness. Having selected a place where to camp, they tied him to a tree ; and, leaving him in care of an old Indian and some lads, they started out on a hunting expedition. By some means he succeeded in getting his hands loose, and, keeping an eye upon the old Indian and the boys, he next relieved himself of the tugs which were round bis waist. The evening shades were gathering around l'jO AtJTOBtOGftAPllY OF the earth, and while the boys were picking up sticks fat the fire, and the old Indian, wearied with fatigue, was nodding on his seat, Cassaday bounded from the tree, seized a gun and pouch, and before they had time to recover from their surprise, was lost to sight in the depths of the forest. The alarm was given; and the Indians returning, and finding their prisoner gone, started off in the direction he had taken. He knew his enemies could not be far off, and would soon be on his track. To elude their pursuit, he struck off in a northerly direction, which was in a contrary direction from home. When night came on he changed his course toward the Ohio river. He heard in the distance the Indians on his track, and the dismal howl of the Indian bloodhound, which was scenting out his way. The chase was continued till late at night, and he imagined again and again that his enemy was just upon him. Seeing a stream which ran in a southerly direction, he plunged into it, and, wading in its bed for some distance, crossed to the other bank, following it down some distance, when he would plunge in again, and continue wading down the stream. This he did to elude the scent of the dog, and it was the only thing that could have saved him. The pursuit was kept up all night, and the next day till evening, when, to his great relief, he reached the Ohio river, into which, without a moment's thought, he plunged, and commenced swimming for the other shore. Before he reached the middle of the stream his strength, which had already been taxed to its utmost, began to fail, and he began (o despair of ever being able to reach the Kentucky shore. A thought of home and friends inspired him, however, with new courage, and he redoubled his exertions. The gun, which he had tied to his head, was pressing him down ; his strokes became less frequent and more feeble, and he was about resigning himself to a watery grave, UEV. JA.MES B. FINLEl'. 121 when it occurred to him that perhaps the water was not over his head. Accordingly he let his feet descend, and to his great joy he found the water only up to his shoulders, and, after resting a short time, he was enabled to wade out to the beach. When he reached the shore he was completely exhausted, and he sought a place for rest and safety. Worn down with fatigue, and having had no sleep nor food for the last two days, it was not long till he fell into a profound slumber. When he awoke in the morning his limbs were so stiff that it was with difficulty he could move them. He, however, arose from his resting-place, and, after seeking for something to sat- isfy the cravings of appetite, he journeyed toward home, which he reached in three days. He was an active defender of the frontier settlers, a brave man, a valuable citizen, beloved and respected by all. He was subsequently chosen to represent the county where he resided in the Legislature of the state — a duty which he performed with credit to himself and satisfac- tion to his constituents. Mercer Beason, another pioneer of those times, was one of our spies. He was a descendant of the family of Beasons who settled at an early day near the foot of Laurel Hill, where they laid out the village of Beason- town, now known as Uniontown. He was an active, fear- less young man, above the medium stature. Bold and daring, he traversed the wilderness, encountering its dingers and hardships with an undaunted spirit. Many were the hazardous undertakings and perilous adven- tures of which he was the hero. He was the pride of his country. His fame spread far and wide, and his daring deeds struck terror into the hearts of the foe. He was one of nature's warriors; reared among the mountains, and breathing the wild air of liberty, his spirit soared, aloft, unfettered and free, as the eagle of 11 122 AtJTOBlOGRAPHY OlT tfi Alieghanies. But, alas! the spoiler came, and thai gifted, high-born son of the wildwood fell by the shaft of the demon intemperance. Like Death itself, this demon loves a shining mark ; and who does not weep over the early graves of heroism, genius, and learning, which have fallen by the hand of this fell destroyer? Bazil Williams was a Virginian by birth, but was raised in Kentucky. He was one of the most active men of his age, with but one exception — the incompar- able M'Cleland. He was an officer in Captain Joseph Colvin's volunteer company from Bourbon county, which joined the army of General Wayne. Having been in many skirmishes with the Indians, he learned their vari- ous arts and stratagems, and hence he was prepared to do effective service in the great battle on the Maumee. During this battle he was shot in the arm, but he never ceased fighting till the battle was ended and the victory achieved. G. Partee was also wounded in the thigh, but, like his brave officer, he fought on to the last of the conflict. Williams was eminently useful as a spy, and his fleetness of foot rendered him a great acquisition in carrying intelligence from one part of the country to another. It was said of him, that for a half a day's heat he could outrun any horse in the country, and it was considered useless for any man to try to catch him. It would seem, from the diversities of natural gifts which were possessed by the early pioneers, that they had been specially designed by Providence for the wants and neces- sities growing out of the border wars. Duncan M'Arthur was a son of nature. He was tall in stature, with a giant frame. His hair was black as a raven, and his eyes dark and piercing. When excited there was an unearthly flash in his fiery eye which indi- cated a keen and daring spirit, restless and fearless. When 1 first knew him, in 1793, he was quite a young REV. JAMES S. FINLEY. 12b man, and was employed as a spy in company with Samue 1 Davis. They were to range the country from Limestone to the mouth of Big Sandy. In their excursions they met with many narrow escapes. In 1794 he, with Na- thaniel Beasley, was employed as a spy on the same ground, and they were often in great jeopardy of their lives. Traversing the dense forests that lined the banks of the Ohio, or gliding along in the swift canoe over its beautiful waters, with naught to disturb the repose of nature but the scream of the panther or the yell of the savage, as he would be startled from his 'camp by the dreaded approach of the white man, young M'Arthur grew up to manhood inspired with the wildness of the scenes around him, and disciplined to hardship by the toils he endured. After this he became a hunter for General Massie, and subsequently a deputy surveyor ot the wild Congress lands. He finally bought up warrants, and located the land himself, till he became immensely rich as a landlord. He assisted General Massie in laying out the town of Chilicothe, and was among the first settlers of that ancient metropolis. He held many 'offices, both of a military and civil nature, and figured largely in the history of the western country during his day. He was a member of the state Legislature, several times a member of the Congress of the United States, Brio- adier- General of the North- western army during the last war, and Governor of the state of Ohio. He was a kind neighbor and a valuable citizen. A poor backwoods boy, with nothing but a hunter's dress and ritie, he rose, by dint of indomitable perseverance and courage, from his obscurity to fill the highest offices in the gift of hib countrymen. Colonel John M'Donald, one of my early companions, was of Scotch descent. His father was connected with '.he army of the Revolution from its first organization up 124 AUTOBIOGRAPHY Ofr to the year 1780. John was born in Northumberland county, on the 28th of January, 1775. His father crossed the Mountains with his family in 1780, and settled at a place called Mingo Bottom, three miles below the pres- ent site of Steubenville. The Ohio river was then the extreme frontier, constituting the dividing line between the white and red man. No line, however, was sufficient to form a barrier against the invasions of both parties. The white man was as frequently the aggressor as the Ind'an, and many were the scenes of suffering, carnage, and massacre witnessed along this border line. My young friend was reared amid all the dangers of a border war. In the year 1789 his father removed to Washington, Ky., where we were then residing, and soon after their arrival my acquaintance with young M'Donald commenced. Simon Kenton resided here also at that time. I have already given a sketch of his life, but can not forbear adding, that, although he could neither read nor write, he was regarded as the prince of the pioneers of this region of country. Bravery and daring courage were considered more essential elements of greatness in those days than learning, or wealth, or dignified titles. Kenton had a pleasant countenance and a sweet voice, yet of great compass and power. Unlike Daniel Boone, he was social in his manners. When engaging in battle he was prudent and cautious, but when the fight began he was bold and daring to excess. In the tumuft of battle his clear, manly voice would roll over the combatants, like thunder, inspiring his men with courage, and striking dismay into the hearts of his foes. He was the teacher and captain of all the young men and boys in this part of the country. He was a master-spirit, and the prototype of young M'Donald. The boys of those days were early brought into serv- ice ; and as soon as they could hold up a rifle at off hand, KEV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 12S lake off a gun-lock and clean it, taking it apart and oiling it, and then putting it together again, were ranked with the hunters and soldiers of the day. It is almost incred- ible to relate the intrepid and desperate daring of the feats performed by mere boys. I will relate an instance which occurred with two boys with whom I was well acquainted. They were in the woods hunting the cows. It was in the fall of the year ; and as hickory-nuts were very plentiful, they concluded to gather some and take them home. While thus eno^o-ed two Indians came upon them, and took them prisoners. With their prize they started off, traveling all night and the next day. At evening they stopped to camp. After taking their even- ing repast they made the two boys lie down between them. The eldest kept awake till all the company were locked in the fast embrace of sleep. He then quietly awakened his brother, and they stole softly from their resting-place. The elder brother then took a gun from one of the Indians and a tomahawk from the other. Placing the muzzle of the gun at the head of one of the Indians, he told his brother that the moment he should strike the other Indian he should pull the trigger. The deadly weapon gleamed in the light of the watch-fire, and in an instant was buried deep into the skull of the savage, while the sharp crack of the rifle sent the death- dealing ball into the brains of his companion. The one that had been tomahawked bounded and fell into the fire. The boys then made their escape, and, taking the Indian trail, they proceeded toward home, which in due time they reached in safety. A party started out with the eldest to visit the scene of slaughter, and found the Indians dead as reported. The name of these boys was Johnson. They grew up to be useful members of society, and joined the Methodist Episcopal Church — the eldest being a steward and the youngest a local preacher. 126 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF The first excursion of my friend M'Donald was. ta*en with Kenton. Three men from near Washington went out on a hunting expedition, and encamped on the waters of Bracken, about ten miles from home. While they were out hunting a party of Indians came upon their camp, and placed themselves in ambush, to waylay the hunters on their return at night. The names of two of the hunters were Dan Figgans and Josiah Wood* the name of the other is forgotten. It was late when the party returned. As they were preparing their supper the Indians crept up stealthily, and fired, killing Wood and the one whose name is forgotten. Figgans, being unhurt, fled for his life. The Indians started in pursuit, with the most hideous yells. The race was most fear- fully kept up, but Figgans distanced his pursuers, and at midnight reached Washington, where he alarmed his friends at Kenton's Station. This bold warrior immedi- ately mounted his horse, and in a short time, having raised a company, started in pursuit. Young M'Donald was anxious to accompany them ; but his father, thinking him too young, being but fifteen years of age, to be of any service, refused his consent. He was not, however, to be deterred ; so stealing his father's rifle and horse, he started at full speed, and soon overtook the company. They arrived at the place about sunrise, and a most shocking scene presented itself to their view. One of the men had been scalped, and thrown into the fire, where he was nearly consumed ; the other had also beei> scalped, and cut to pieces with the Indian hatchet. The party proceeded to the mournful work of depositing their remains in the ground ; and ascertaining by the tracks of the horses that the Indians had directed their course for the Ohio river, they started after them. When they arrived at the river, they found that the Indians, without wailing a moment, had plunged in and swam across. EEV. JAMES B. FIN LEY. 127 thus cutting off pursuit. This dreadful sight had a tend- ency somewhat to cool the ardor of the youthful warrior, who, nevertheless, would have been glad of an opportu- nity for taking revenge upon the savage foe. From this time M'Donald was constantly engaged with scouting, hunting, and surveying parties. In the spring of 1792 he joined General Massie's settlement at Man- chester, twelve miles above Maysville. This was the third settlement on the north-west side of the Ohio river, above Cincinnati, or Losantiville, as the town was called. This infant settlement, together with the lives of all in the station, was in constant danger. Many and exciting were the scenes by which they were surrounded. Some- times they were deeply depressed, and anon, when danger was over, their spirits rose exulting at the trials and con- flicts through which they had passed. A report would sometimes come in, that one of their number had fallen by the hand of the enemy, which would cast a shade of sadness and gloom on all hearts; then again the intelli- gence that the bold and daring hunter had captured the foe, would inspire them with courage. Thus life was made up of constant alternations of hope and despond- ency. This constant warfare made the early settlers so familiar with scenes of blood and carnage, that they be- came, in a measure, indifferent spectators, and at the same time reckless and fearless of all danger. Scenes of hor- ror that would have congealed the blood in the veins of those unaccustomed to them, would scarcely move the heart of the hardy pioneer. In the spring of 1794 Colonel M'Donald and his brother Thomas joined General Wayne's army as rang- ers, or spies. The company of rangers consisted of sev- enty-two, of whom Captain Ephraim Kibby was com- mander. He was a true Jersey blue, fully adequate to any emergency growing out of his highly lesponsibie 128 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF position. It was the duty of the rangers to traverse the Indian country in every direction in advance of the army. This was not only a toilsome, but a dangerous work. The company was divided into small detachments, which started out in every direction, and, after scouring the country, returned and made their report to head- quarters. The history of these times has been so often told that I do not consider it necessary to enter into any detail in regard to the many adventures connected with the rang- ers, and shall only record what has never yet been made a matter of public history. Early in November of the year above mentioned, Mr. Lucas Sullivan, a land-speculator and surveyor from Vir- ginia, collected a company of twenty-one men to go upon a surveying tour into the Scioto country. This was a hazardous undertaking. Notwithstanding- the Indians had been severely beaten by General Wayne, a few months previously, yet the country was far from a state of peace. Attached to this company were three surveyors ; namely, John and Nathaniel Beasley, and Sullivan, who was the chief. Young M'Donald was connected with this com- pany. Every man carried his own baggage and arms, consisting of a rifle, tomahawk, and scalping-knife. While engaged in surveying, the hunters would go in advance as spies, and the surveyor, chain-carriers, and marksmen would follow in line, the whole being brought up by the pack-horse and the man who cooked for the company. It was his business to keep a good look-out, so that the enemy should not attack them in the rear. In this mili- tary manner was most of the surveying in Ohio and Ken- tucky performed. They did not carry any piovisions with ihem, but depended on their rifles for a living, which sel dom failed to afford them an abundant supply. Having taken Todd's trace, they pursued their journey HEY. JAMES B. FIN LEY. 120 till they came to Paint creek, at the old crossings. From thence they proceeded to old Chilicothe, now Frankfort, and thus on to Deer creek, where they encamped at the mouth of Hay run. In the morning Sullivan, M'Donald, and Murray went down to the mouth of Deer creek with the intention of taking its meanderings back to the camp. They had not proceeded more than a hundred rods "till a flock of turkeys came flying toward them. M'Donald and Murray being on the bank of the creek, near to a pile of drift-wood, Murray, without reflecting a moment that the turkeys must have been driven toward them by some per- sons, slipped up to a tree and shot a turkey. He then slipped back, and as there were more turkeys on the tree, M'Donald slipped up to the position left by his compan- ion. Just as he was about to fire, the sharp crack of a rifle fell on his ears, and turning instantly he saw poor Murray fall to rise no more. Looking in the direction from whence the messenger of death came, he saw sev- eral Indians with their rifles leveled at him. Quick as thought he sprang over the bank into the creek, and they fired but missed him. The Indians followed hard after him, yelling and screaming like fiends. Running across the bottom he met Sullivan and three others of the com- pany. Sullivan instantly threw away his compass and clung to his rifle. Their only safety was in rapid flight, as the Indians were too numerous to encounter. As they ran the Indians fired upon them, one of the balls striking Colvin's cue at the tie, which shocked him so much that he thought himself mortally wounded. But he was a brave young man, and being fleet of foot, he ran up the creek and gave the alarm at the camp, stating that he be- lieved all were killed but himself. Those at camp of course fled as soon as possible. M'Donald and his party ran across the bottom to the high land, and after running three miles struck a prairie. Casting their eye ov$r it, 9 130 AUTOKIOGRAI'IIY OF they saw four Indians trotting along the tiace. Tltey I bought of running round the prairie and heading them, but not knowing how soon those in pursuit would be upon them, and perchance they would get between two fires, adopted the better part of valor and concealed themselves in the crass till the Indians were out of sio;ht. After remaining there for some time they went to the camp and found it deserted. Just as they were about to leave, one of the company espied a note stuck in the end of a split «tick, to this effect, "If you should come, follow the trail." It was then sundown, and they knew they would not be able to follow the trail after dark. When night came on, they steered their course by starlight. They had traveled a distance of eight or nine miles. It was a cold, dreary night, and the leaves being frozen, the sound of their footsteps could be heard some distance. All at once they heard something break and run as if it were a gang of buffaloes. At this they halted and re- mained silent for some time. After a while the fugitives could be heard coming back softly. Supposing that it might be their companions, M'Donald and M'Cormick concluded to creep up slowly and see. They advanced till they could hear them cracking hazel-nuts with their teeth. They also heard them whisper to one another, but could not tell whether they were Indians or white men. They cautiously returned to Sullivan, and the company, after deliberation, finally concluded to call, which they did, and found, to their joy, that it was their own friends who fled from them. They had mutual rejoicings at meeting again, but poor Murray waa left a prey to the Indians and wolves. They now commenced their journey nomeward, and after three days' travel, arrived at Man- chester. This disastrous enterprise, however, did not deter oth- ers from trying their fortunes. Soon after this, Genera) REV. JAMES B. FINLE1 3 3.1 Nathaniel Massie collected a party of twenty-eight men, of whom M'Donald was one, to take a surveying tour on the head waters of the Little Miami and Paint creek. He took with him three assistant surveyors, namely, Peter Lee, William O'Banion, and Nathaniel Beasley, men of tried 30iirage, and able to encounter any hardships. None but men of this stamp were adapted to such an enter- prise, and hence the company was composed of such. A surveying expedition incurred more toil and danger than a scouting party or a regular army, the latter particularly, as it was always embodied and better prepared for de- fense.. The surveying company was divided into bands, and each had its particular duties to perform; hence it was impossible to be always on the guard against the wily and revengeful Indian. General Massie was a man of great energy of charac- ter, a brave and daring spirit of the times in which he lived. He was honest and upright in all his dealings with his fellow-men. He was not only just, but gener- ous to a fault, the poor man's friend, the widow and or- phan's benefactor. Pinching want, with haggard mien and downcast eyes, never went pining from his door. His house was the home of hospitality, and an asylum for the distressed. But, alas! like many high-souled, gifted, and generous men of all times, the demon Intem- perance marked him as his victim, and " Like some ill-guided bark, well built, and tall, That angry tides cast out on desert shore," that noble spirit was wrecked. He died in 1813. Having neglected his business, which was in great confusion at his death, his heirs reaped but little benefit from his great estate. Peter Lee, one of Massie's surveyors, was a native of Mason county, Ky. He possessed a large fortune, and was reputed a liberal and honest man. He was unosleu- 132 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF tatious in all his demeanor, and much respected by all who knew him. He remained a bachelor, as matrimony did not seem to have sufficient charms to lure him from the path of single biessedness. If to some it is not given to enjoy this estate, they may excite commiseration for their misfortune, instead of condemnation for their course. Nathaniel Beasley, the youngest of the surveyors, has long since passed away from the ranks of the living, and been numbered with the dead. He served his country with great fidelity in many responsible stations. He was justice of the peace, county commissioner, and represent- ative in the state Legislature. In the war of 1812 he again shouldered his rifle in his country's cause, as commander of a battalion in two ex pedi lions. He had, when we take into account the day in which he lived, and the training which he received, as tew faults as any man. He was a plain, common-sense, self-taught, and self-made man. He possessed a thor- ough business capacity, had great honesty of purpose, and his industry and perseverance secured for him the esteem of all who knew him. William O'Banion was the bravest of the brave, and one of the most fiery and impetuous spirits old Kentucky ever sent into the battle-field. After serving, with the greatest fidelity and courage, in various minor grades of rank as an officer in the army,' he was promoted to the rank of lieutenant in the United States army. He was in the battle of Tripoli in Africa, and the first man that mounted the wall of a fortified town near Tripoli. Since bis return from Africa I have not been able to learn ai y thing concerning his history. Such were the men who constituted the leaders of the expedition; while the chain-carriers and marksmen were all well-tried backwoods hunters, brought up amid the perils of the border wars. Without beds, tents, or REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 133 wagons, the ground covered with snow, and the weathei intensely cold, they traversed the wilderness, and, gath- ering around their camp-fires, after the toils of the day, they would laugh, and sing, and talk as merrily as though at a backwoods wedding. But to return to the biography of my friend M' Donald. In the year of 1799 he was married to Miss Catharine Outwright, and in 1 802 removed to Poplar Ridge in Ross county, where he now resides. He had eight daughter? and one son, all of whom obtained respectable positions in society. He was elected several times a justice of the peace ; also served as a militia officer, being captain, ma- jor, lieutenant-colonel, and colonel. When the war of 1812 broke out, he enlisted as a volunteer in the first reg- iment of Ohio volunteers, and received the appointment of paymaster-general. Immediately on the receipt of this appointment, he went to Dayton, the place of general rendezvous for the north-western army, and was subse- quently appointed quarter-master of the regiment, and continued to perform the duties of both offices till the surrender of the army by General Hull. In the early part of the winter of 1812-13 he received the appoint- ment of captain in the United States army, but did not resign his commissions in the militia. In July following he commanded a regiment of militia, and marched to the lake country, and served under the orders of General William Henry Harrison. He represented his county in both houses of the state Legislature. This young man, reared in the wilderness, subjected to all its toils and dangeis, presented a specimen of manly courage, intel- lectual worth, and true greatness, worth a regiment of West Point cadets, and an example to all young men of the present day. I have been familiarly acquainted with him for upward of half a century. He is now, like my- self, in the sear and yellow leaf of age, and soon the win- 134 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF tery winds will sweep us as the leaves from their parent tree, and we shall be gathered to our fathers. The latter part of his life has been spent in promoting the benevo- lent enterprises of the age, such as temperance, Sabbath schools, etc. His life has been one of excitement, toil, and conflict. His best years have been devoted to the interests of his country, and, though man does not, may God reward him for his conduct! He has written a most interesting and reliable history, called "Sketches of ih« West/' REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 13i CHAPTER VI. TRAGICAL OCCURRENCE — BRAVE BACKWOODS OJR1- The dangers to which the early inhabitants of the Scioto Valley were exposed made their appearance on the death of Captain Herrod. He was among the numbci of those who raised the first corn in the prairie below Chilicothe, in 1796. He was a most respectable and wor- thy man, possessing great influence in the country, and beloved by all who knew him. Having removed to a farm a few miles west of Chilicothe, which he was en- gaged in clearing, an incident occurred, which created the utmost terror and alarm in the whole country, and spread consternation and dismay wherever the sad intel- ligence reached the sparse and scattered population. In the spring of 1803, as some persons were hunting in the woods, they found the body of a man scalped and toma- hawked. This was recognized as the body of Captain Herrod; and it was supposed, from the manner of his death, that the fearful deed had been perpetrated by the Indians. It was also supposed that the Indians ha.l recommenced hostilities on the whites. The treaty of peace concluded by General Wayne in 1795 had remained undisturbed up to this time. By whom or for what pur- pose Captain Herrod was thus brutally murdered, has never been ascertained, and remains wrapped in the pro- foundest mystery to this day. Various were the conjec- tures at the time. It was secretly hinted, and by some Hrmly believed, that the savage deed was done by a white man who had been an unsuccessful rival candidate 136 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF of Captain Herrod's, for the office of captain in the Ohio militia. It was known that the bitterest envy rankled in his heart toward Herrod, and it was supposed that he sought to cover up the foul deed by adopting the Indian mode cf human slaughter. , Whether he was guilty or not, this was at least the general impression among the immediate neighbors; but, as no evidence of guilt was ever sought or found against him, he was allowed to pass without being taken. On the other hand, as little faith had been placed by the inhabitants in general in the treaty of the Indians, a large majority were disposed to charge the deed to them, and the death of Herrod was regarded as the forerunner of war. The account of his death, as if borne on the wings of the wind, spread with great rapidity all over the Scioto Valley, and the excite- ment and alarm produced among the citizens was most intense. Whole families, from five to fifteen miles apart, flocked together for purposes of self-defense. In some places block-houses were run up, and preparations for war made in every direction. The citizens of Chilicothe, though in the center of population, collected together for the purpose of fortifying the town. Sentinels were posted, and a vigilant guard kept, day and night. Rumor, with her overheated and affrighted imagination, and her thou- eand tongues, was busily engaged in spreading her alarms. At one time it was reported that Captain John, an Indian chief, with his warriors, had killed all the inhabitants of Darby; and again, that other settlements had fallen beneath the hand of the savage foe. The inhabitants living on the north fork of Paint creek were all collected at Old Town, now Frankfort, and among others was David Wolf, an old hunter, a man of wealth and some influence. He had settled on the north fork, twenty miles above Old Town. After remaining in the town several days, he employed two men, Williams anc REV. JAMES B. FINLE1 137 ferguson, to go with him to his farm, with a view of examining into the condition of his stock. When they had proceeded about six miles, and were passing through a prairie, they saw an Indian approaching them in the dis- tance, and walking in the same path over which they were traveling. On a nearer approach it was found to be the Shawnee chief Waw-wil-a-way, the old and faithful hun- ter of General Massie during his surveying tours, and an unwavering friend of the white man. He was a sober, brave, intelligent man, well known to most of the settlers in the country, and beloved by all for his frank and gen- erous demeanor. He had a wife and two sons, who were also much respected by their white neighbors where they resided, near the falls of Paint creek. Waw-wil-a-way was frequently engaged in taking wild game and skins to Old Town, for the purpose of exchang ing them for such articles as he wanted. He had left home that morning on foot with his gun for the purpose of visiting Frankfort, and meeting the company before named, he approached them in that frank and friendly manner which always characterized his intercourse with his white brethren. After shaking hands with them most cordially, he inquired into the health of each and their families. The salutation being over, Wolf asked him if he would not trade guns ; and the chief assenting, an exchange was made for the purpose of examining previous to the ratification of the bargain. While this was going on, Wolf, being on horseback, unperceived by Waw-wil-a- way, opened the pan, and threw oift the priming, and, handing it back, said he believed he would not trade with him. Wolf and Williams then dismounted, and asked the chief if the Indians had commenced war. His answer was, "No, no! the Indians and white men are now all one, all brothers." 138 AUTOBIOGEATIIY OF Wolf then asked if he had heard that the Indians had killed Captain Herrod. The chief, much surprised at the intelligence, replied, that he had not heard it, and seemed to doubt its correctness. Wolf assured him that it was true. "May be whisky, too much drink, was the cause of the quarrel." Wolf replied, "Herrod had no quarrel with the Indi- ans ; nor is i' known by whom he was killed, or for what cause." Waw-wil-a-way said, "May be some bad white man kill Captain Herrod." The conversation then ended, and the party making preparation to resume their journey, the chief again shook hands with all in the same friendly manner as at greeting. After he had proceeded on his way about ten steps, Wolf raised his rifle, and, taking deliberate aim at the Indian's back, fired, and shot him through the body. Waw-wil-a-way did not fall, although he knew his wound must prove mortal; nor did he submit to die as most men would have done in similar circumstances. The illustrious Julius Caesar, one of the most renowned warriors of imperial Rome, when attacked by superior numbers in the Senate Chamber, terrified at the approach tf death, muffled his face in his cloak, and received the deadly thrust of Brutus; but the brave Shawnee chief, in the wild prairie of his fathers, which had been invaded by the white man, turned upon his ungenerous and cow- ardly assailants, determined to sell his life at as dear a rate as his hopeless condition would admit, raised his unerring rifle, and leveled it at Wolf, who jumped behind his horse. Williams's horse becoming frightened, and plunging about, left his body unprotected, and the uneir ing lire of Waw-wil-a-way's rifle told its tale of death. KEV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 139 Williams was shot through the bodv, and fell dead in the path. The Indian then clubbed his gun, and, in a state of desperation, rushed upon Wolf, and with one blow felled him to the earth. Recovering, and being strong and active, he closed upon the Indian, and made an effort to seize him by the long tuft of hair on the top of his head. He had a shawl tied around his head in the form of a turban, and this being seized by Wolf, instead of the hair, he gave a violent jerk for the purpose of bringing him to the ground. The shawl giving way, Wolf fell on his back. At this the Indian drew his scalping-knife, and made a thrust at Wolf, who, seeing his danger, and throwing up his feet to ward off' the blow, received the blade of the knife in his thigh. In the scuffle the handle broke off, and left the whole blade fast in the wound. Ai the same time Wolf made a stroke at the Indian, the blade of his knife entering the breast-bone. Just then Ferguson came to Wolf's assistance; but the Indian, taking up Wolf's gun, struck him on the head a most fearful blow, and brought him to the earth, laying bare his skull from the crown to the ear. Here the sanguinary conflict ended; and so rapid was the work* of bloodshed that all was accomplished in less time than I have taken to relate it. When the deadly strife ended, the foes of Waw-wii-a- way were all lying at his feet, and had he been able to have followed up his blows he would have dispatched them, for they were completely in his power. But his strength failed him, and perhaps his sight; for he must have been in the agonies of death during the whole conflict. It may be that the poor Indian relented, and that forgive- ness played like a sunshine around his generous heart. He cast one glance upon his fallen foes; then turning away, he walked out into the grass, and fell upon his wee amid the wild flowers of the prairie, where his heart. 140 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF which never ceased to beat with kindness for the white, man, at once and forever was still. During the entire engagement he never spoke a word. Silently he acted his part in the fearful drama, as though moved by an invisible agency. The conduct of Wolf and his comrades was the most dastardly and mean, and deserves the execration of the world. They first attempted to disarm him by throwing the priming out of his gun, and then talking with him, and parting undei the mask of friendship. Had Wolf and his companions supposed him to have been accessory to the death of Herrod in any way, he would have gone with them cheerfully to Old Town or Chiiicothe, and given himself up to an investigation. But Wolf was determined on murder, and the blood of Waw-wil-a-way rests on his head. Williams was found dead of his wounds. Wolf was carried home in a wagon, and the knife-blade extracted by a surgeon. Ferguson's wound was dressed, but both of these suffered much. The body of the chief was found where it fell, and it was pronounced by the sur- geon — Dr. Edmiston — who examined his wounds, that either of them must have proved mortal. It seemed that Providence designed he should, in some degree, avenge his own death. The death of this great and good Indian chief added fuel to the excitement which had preceded it. The Indi- ans in the neighborhood fled in one direction, and the whites in another. Neither party knew what to do. A.11 was dismay and confusion. In this dreadful state of suspense and alarm, General M' Arthur and Governor Worthington, with a few others, mounted their horses and went into the Indian country near Fort Greenville, where they found a numerous body of Indians, among whom was the far-famed and celebni- REV. JAMES B. F INLET. 14 1 '.ed chief, Tecumseb, or Shooting Star, as this name signi- fies. With these Indians a council was held. They re- lated what had happened, narrating all the circumstances connected with the death of Captain Herrod and Waw- wil-a-way. The Indians declared they had no knowledge of these transactions, and reiterated their purpose to stand firm by the treaty made at that place. After some further deliberation between the parties, Tecumseh agreed to ac- company them to Chilicothe, which he did. After their arrival, a day was fixed on which he would address all the people. At the appointed time a vast assemblage was convened. The interpreter for the occasion was a white man by the name of Riddle, who had been for many years a prisoner among the Indians. Governor Tiffin opened the talk, and after he had finished and sat down Tecum- seh arose. His personal appearance was prepossessing. His figure was tall and commanding. Native dignity sat enthroned upon his massive brow ; and while this son of the forest — this shooting meteor — poured out the bright flashes of wit and eloquence over the vast concourse, all was silent as the grave. With the strongest language, he spoke of the amicable relations subsisting between the In- dians and their white brethren, and the determination of the former forever to abide by the treaty. He expressed a hope that it would be kept inviolate by both parties, and that brotherly love would be long and lasting as time between the white man and the Indian. When he con- cluded, the sachems shook hands in token of the friend- ship and fellowship existing between both parties. This interview allayed all alarm, and the people all returned again to their quiet homes and peaceful pursuits. There was one exception, however, to the general tran- quillity. Waw-wil-a-way, as before related, had two sons, who had, in obedience to their religion, vowed to be re- venged on Wolf for the death of their father. According 112 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF to the custom of the Indians, the nearest kin to the mur- dered man has a right, and it is made his duty, to kill the murderer whenever or wherever he could find him, unless the murderer purchased his life by a certain price agreed upon by the family. Wolf, hearing of the intentions of the sons of the murdered chief, took his family and re moved to Kentucky, at the same time employing an agen* to intercede with the young men. A negotiation was finally entered into, and the agent agreed to furnish each of the young Indians with a horse, a new saddle and bridle, and a new rifle. On complying with this condition, they agreed to bury the tomahawk and make peace with him and his forever. Wolf agreed to the proposition, and the time and place were fixed upon for the fulfillment of the contract.. iV large concourse was assembled at Old Town, to wit- ness the Indian ceremonies. A hollow square was formed, in which were Wolf and his horses and trappings, and the two Indians. The Indians, in relinquishing their claim to the life of the murderer, raised their hands toward heaven, invoking the Great Spirit, declaring that to him alone they transferred the blood and life of Wolf, forfeited by the death of their father. The scene was full of the most impressive solemnity, and many were moved to tears. In token of their forgiveness, they advanced and took Wolf by the hand — the same bloody hand which sent their be- loved father to the grave and made them orphans. Then saluting him as a brother, they lighted the calumet, or pipe of peace, and smoked with him in the presence of the Great Spirit. They remained good friends ever afterward, and often visited each other. I have selected the above as one of the many tragical occurrences of those days ; and though some may think I ought to pass over such scenes of carnage and death, yet, as a faithful chronicler of the times in which I lived, I KBV. JAMES B. KINLEY 143 think it due to posterity to know through what perils th^i? fathers passed, and what were the circumstances by which they were surrounded. The only way to judge correctly of human character, is to take into the account the cir- cumstances under which it was developed. The trials which our fathers and mothers endured in the early settlement of this country, and the fortitude evinced by them in the hour of danger, should never be forgotten by their sons and daughters. Before closing this chapter, I will relate an incident which occurred on Bear Grass, in Kentucky, near where the city of Louis- ville now stands. A gentleman by the name of Atkinson had removed, with his family, from some of the older set- tlements, to this place, and with his colored servants, had opened a farm. Before, however, the forests were leveled around him, or he had realized the bright anticipations in which he had indulged, he fell by the stroke of death. His wife and an only daughter, a beautiful and accom- plished girl of fifteen summers, after his death, concluded to remain in their new home. The scene of the husband's and father's labors and death was rendered too sacred to be left for any slight or transient cause. On a grassy knoll, not far from the cottage, slept, in his long last sleep, the idol of their hearts. Thither they would repair, when the early spring opened the buds, and plant flowers. There, after the toils of the day, that lonely child would wander, to weep and pray ; and often have the stars, those bright sentinels of heaven, looked down from the blue depths, to watch the devotions of the pure spirit lingering there. About one year after this melancholy event, the daugh- ter was out later than usual, accompanied by a faithful servant. Seeming unwilling to leave the spot where her heart's treasure was entombed, she tarried, pensive and *ad, when suddenly she was startled by a low growl in ] 14 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF the woods, apparently at a short distance from her. Fear- ing it might be some beast of prey, with which the woods were infested, she hastened home. So accustomed was she to visit her father's grave in the evening, her mother was not alarmed at her stay. When she entered the cot- tage, she Was considerably agitated, and communicated the cause of it to her mother. The servants occupied quarters close at hand, and as they were true and trusty, there was no great cause of fear on the part of the mother and her daughter; but, on retiring that night, they doubly barred the door of their rude habitation. After they had retired to rest, they were startled by an unusual noise in the yard. The mother sprang out of bed, and, adjusting her clothes, took down the rifle, which hung over the door, and after examining, cautiously, the load, and priming, she carefully opened the door, and stepped into the yard. She looked in every direction, but she could see nothing. She walked around the house, examining every corner, but still nothing was to be seen. She also passed around the cabin of the serv- ants, but could not detect the cause* of the noise. She returned into the house and set down the gun. Her daughter had arisen, and dressed herself, and was stirring up the fire. She assured her mother that there must be some wild beast about the house, as she distinctly heard its footsteps while she was out. Upon this, the mother resolved to go to the cabin, and wake the servant Dan, a bold and fearless negro. She accordingly went and waktd him, and told him to get up, which he did as speedily as possible, and after putting on his clothes, he came out armed with a heavy stick. She directed him to go round the house one way, and she would take the other. Before they had proceeded ten steps, Mrs. Atkinson was seized by a huge bear. The negro immediately made a blow with his club at the head of the animal, and stunned him REV JAMES B. FINLEY. 145 so that he let go his hold; but soon recovering himself, he commenced his attack on Dan, who kept up a running fight till he reached his lodge, which he did, and, slam- ming to the door, roused all the inmates. Having thus cut off his pursuit, the bear directed his course toward Mrs. Atkinson, and, just as she was entering the door of her house, caught her by her dress, and drew her toward him. At this critical moment the click of a gun-lock was heard, which was instantly followed by the sharp crack of a rifle; the bear relaxed his hold, doubled up, and rolled over at her feet, in the last struggle. An unerring aim had sent a ball through his heart. The daughter was a witness of the conflict in the yard ; but it was too dark for her to see to shoot, without the light of her fire, and whenever the enemy came within its range, his life paid the forfeit. This intrepid act doubtless saved the mother's life. That brave, yet delicate, affectionate, and dutiful child became the high-souled, heroic woman. Her skill, judg- ment, and bravery were often, in after years, relied upon to guide the destiny of the infant settlements, during many severe conflicts in the dark and bloody ground. By marriage, this courageous backwoods girl became connected with one of the first and most ancient families of the south. Her descendants are numerous and respect- able, inheriting the virtues and bravery of their mother, figuring largely in the military, civil, and political his- tory of the west; and they have not forgotten the story of the bear. Before closing this chapter I will relate another inci- dent of backwoods bravery. An aged lady, who died in Ross county some fifty years since, related to me the following circumstance: When she, with her family, went first to reside in Kentucky the Indians attacked their cabin, and shot her husband, 10 1 4f> AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF wounding him so badly that lie was unable to render any further assistance. They then tried to force the door No person being with her in the house but a mulatto boy, about seventeen years of age, they both flew to the door, and pressed all their weight against it. An Indian finally succeeding in getting his body partly into the house, she seized the hand-ax, and killed him on the spot. They then succeeded in closing the door and barring it. She then took her.husband's mm, and, firing through the port-hole, shot another Indian dead in the yard. The other two — for there were four of them — then made preparations to descend the chimney ; but no sooner had one of them entered the flue, than ripping open a pillow-case, she threw the feathers on the fire. This so suffocated and scorched the Indian that he fell into the fireplace, and the negro boy seizing him, he was soon dispatched by the old lady in the same manner the first aggresser was killed. There was but one Indian left, and fearing he would meet the same sad fate which befell his companions, he fled in dismay from the scene cf conflict. REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. H7 CHAPTER VII. LIFE IN THE WOODS. I will now return to my personal narrative. After the Detroit expedition, I spent the greater part of the winter in hunting. Having attained the age of twenty, I felt considerable uneasiness and indeterrainateness in regard to my future course in life. There were many things to divert my mind, and much that was calculated to produce dissipation of thought. An abundance of youthful com- pany, with every variety of diversions, such as huskings, quiltings, dancings, and plays of all descriptions, presented themselves and were urged upon my attention. All these, however, possessed not the charms of a hunter's life, and I was not long in making my election. In company with three of my companions, I made prep- arations to start out upon a winter's hunt. We agreed to take no horses, and every man was to carry his own stock of provisions and cooking utensils. So taking a few corn- dodgers, one camp-kettle, about a quart of salt, a blanket apiece, and our hunting apparatus, we started for the woods. After two days' travel, we arrived at a place where there were bear signs in great abundance, but they were not fresh. Here we camped and started out to hunt. By this time our store of provisions was exhausted, and the leaves being dry none of us were able to kill any game. We tried hard the next day, but with the same unsuccessful result, except that one of our party killed a wild-cat. This we prepared for our camp-kettle, and when boiled »t made us the first meal we had partaken of 148 AUTOBIOGRAPU Y OF fot two days. I shall always think it was the toughest meal I ever ate. Our object being to hunt bears, and finding that they had all left that section and gone in quest of mast, we resolved, if possible, to follow them. As there was no snow on the ground, and we could not track them, the only things we had to guide us in our search, were the branches and soft muddy places over which they had crossed. On the third day we concluded to take a large circle and make observations. It was cloudy, and the snow began to fall. About noon I fell in with two of my companions, and supposing it to be near night, as the clouds and snow had made it dark, we considered it time to look out for a place to camp. We differed about the course we should take, but finally yielding to the judg- ment of the oldest hunter, we traveled on till it began to be quite dark. Despairing of finding any game, we were about to stop and make preparations for camping, when our dogs treed a large raccoon. Being dark, we could not see the animal with any distinctness, and after several ineffectual shots, at length a ball found its way to the hapless victim, and he fell dead at our feet. This was, to us, a source of great joy. Three days, with only one poor wild-cat for three hearty hunters, was short fare; and the reader may be assured that a fat coon was very acceptable. We soon made preparations for a barbecue. A fire was made, and we could hardly wait till our game was roasted, till we were cutting and eating it. The coon was exceedingly fat, and we wished very much for some bread to catch the rich drippings. Next morning the snow was a foot deep on the ground. My moccasins were worn out on the bottom, and I was obliged to peel lynn bark and make soles for them before [ could proceed. After drying ourselves as well as we :ould, before our camp-fire — for we were much exposed to KEV. J^MES B. FINLEY. 149 he snow during the night, and the only way we could keep at all comfortable with our scanty clothing, was to get the dogs to lie to our backs — we decamped. We had not proceeded far till we came upon a large flock oi turkeys, and killing as many as we could carry, for future use, we commenced retracing our steps, and, finding but little game, we changed the object of pursuit to that of deer. For this purpocc we removed our camp to the large bottoms of Paint creek, where we hunted with good success, and had plenty to live on. After getting all the skins and game that we could carry, we returned home. The holidays, such, for instance, as Christmas and New -Year's, were spent in shooting-matches, dancing, •.nd frolicking, at which, in the language of the back- woodsman, I made a whole hand. These diversions, as I before remarked, were not altogether suited to my taste or inclination. I was still undecided in regard to what course I should pursue in future life. If I went into the practice of medicine, I saw or thought I saw innumerable difficulties connected therewith. To be always with the sick and dying, and constantly to breathe an atmosphere of sighs and disease, was far from being agreeable to my feelings. Besides, the collection of the fees, which, of all others, are the most uncertain, added to the great respon- sibilities of the profession, with not one hour to call my own, seemed entirely too great an undertaking for me at that time. Then I would be totally deprived of the pleasures of hunting, whose peaceful enjoyments had the greatest charms for my youthful imagination. After weighing all these considerations, I finally resolved on adopting a hunter's life. This being settled, the next thing was to get me a wife suited to this mode of living, and, after taking advice from my mother in so important p matter, I made my choice. On the third day of March, 150 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 1801, I was accordingly married to Hannah Strane. Mj father having bought land in what is now Highland county, I resolved to move, and take possession. This section of the country was then a dense wilderness, with only here and there a human habitation. My father-in- law, being unsatisfied with his daughter's choice, did noi even allow her to take her clothes, so we started out, without any patrimony, on our simple matrimonial stock, to make our fortune in the woods. With the aid of my brother John, I built a cabin in the forest, my nearest neighbor being three miles off. Into this we moved, with- out horse or cow, bed or bedding, bag or baggage. We gathered up the leaves and dried them in the sun ; then, picking out all the sticks, we put them into a bed-tick. For a bedstead, we drove forks into the ground, and laid sticks across, over which we placed elm bark. On this we placed our bed of leaves, and had comfortable lodg- ing. The next thing was to procure something to eat. Of meat we had an abundance, supplied by my rifle, but we wanted some bread. I cut and split one hundred rails for a bushel of potatoes, which I carried home on my back, a distance of six miles. At the same place I worked a day for a hen and three chickens, which I put into my hunting-shirt bosom, and carried home as a great prize. Our cabin was covered with bark, and lined and floored with the same material. One end of the cabin was left open for a fireplace. In this we lived comfortably all summer. Having no horse or plow, I went into a plum bottom near the house, and, with my ax, grubbed and cleared off an acre and a half, in which I dug holes with my hoe, and planted my corn, without any fence around it. 1 cultivated this patch as well I could with my hoc, and Providence blessed my labor with a good crop, of over one hundred bushels. Besides, during the summer, with the help of my wife, I put up a neat cabin, and fip. REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 15J ishcd it for our winter's lodgings. For the purpose of making the cabin warm, I put my corn in the loft, and now., if we could not get bread, we had always, as a good substitute, plenty of hominy. We had also plenty of bear- meat and venison, and no couple on earth lived happier or more contented. Our Indian friends often called, and staid all night, and I paid them, in return, occasional visits. Durmg the season several families settled in the neigh- borhood, and, when we were together, we enjoyed life without gossip and those often fatal bickerings and back- bitings which destroy the peace of whole communities. Of all people on the face of God's earth, I despise a gos- siping tattler, whose chief business is to retail slander from house to house, and ruin the peace of families. I would rather meet a lioness bereft of her whelps, a bear of her cubs, a hungry panther, or a revengeful savage, than a living human being in the form of a tattler, with smooth tongue and slimy feet. Though we had but little, our wants were few, and we enjoyed our simple and homely possessions with a relish the purse-proud aristo- crat never enjoyed. A generous hospitality characterized every neighbor, and what we had we divided to the last with each other. When any one wanted help, all were ready to aid. I spent the greater part of the winter in hunting and laying up a store of provisions for the summer, so that I might give my undivided attention to farming. As we had no stock to kill, and could not conveniently raise hogs, on account of the wild animals, which would carry them off, we were obliged to depend upon the product of the woods. As the bear was the most valuable, we always hunted for this animal. This fall there was a good mast, and bears were so plentiful that it was not necessary to go 152 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF from home to hunt them. About Christmas we made oui turkey hunt. At that season of the year they are very fat, and we killed them in great abundance. To preserve them we cleaned them, cut them in two, and, after salting them in troughs, we hung them up to dry. They served ,i valuable purpose to cook, in the spring and summer, with our bear, bacon, and venison hams. Being dry, we would stew them in bear's oil, and they answered a good substitute for bread, which, in those days, was hard to be obtained, the nearest mill being thirty miles distant. Another great difficulty was to procure salt, which sold enormously high — at the rate of four dollars for fifty pounds. In backwoods currency, it would require four buck-skins, or a large bear-skin, or sixteen coon-skins, to make the purchase. Often it could not be had at any price, and the only way we had to procure it, was by packing a load of kettles on our horses to the Scioto salt lick, and boiling the water ourselves. Otherwise we had to dispense with it entirely. I have known meat cured with strong hickory ashes. I imagine I hear the reader saying this was hard living and hard times. So they would have betn to the present race of men, but those who lived at that time enjoyed life with a greater zest, and were more healthy and happy than the present race. We had not then sickly, hyster« ical wives, with poor, puny, sickly, dying children, and no dyspeptic men constantly swallowing the nostrums of quacks. When we became sick unto death, we died at once, and did not keep the neighborhood in a constant state of alarm for several weeks, by daily bulletins of our dying. Our young women were beautiful without rouge, color de rose, meen fun, or any other cosmetic, and blithe- some without wine and fruit-cake. There was then no curvature of the spine, but the lasses were straight and fine -looking, without corsets or whalebone. They were REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 153 neat in their appearance, and fresh as the morning, in their homespun, without the paraphernalia of a la Par- isian wardrobe and toilet. Young ladies did not then weep over the sickly senti- mentalism of a Bulwer, or Dickens, or Eugene Sue, or become corrupted by the yellow-covered literature" which is now, like the frogs of Egypt, infesting our land. They were not annoyed with any Don-Juan-puff-cigaros, with his lonq; hair and face resembling a worn-out hearth - brush, and whose long ears indicated to what species of the genus homo he belonged. The hard-fisted, honest yeomanry of the country, instead of being the mere prod- uct of the tailor or hair-dresser, were nature's noblemen, and their associates. I know it is said, "Tempora mutantur, nos mutamer cum ilius;" but I don't believe the doctrine. The ever- shifting phases of the times would prove a poor guide for any sensible man. And yet I would not be an insuffer- able croaker, and repudiate all progress — eesthetical, social, and intellectual — any more than I would reject progress In the physical sciences and religion. I would only protest against the needless and hurtful superfluities of fashionable life. But a truce to this, . and I will resume my personal narrative. When the spring opened I was better prepared to go to farming than I was the last season, having procured horses and plow. Instead of the laborious and tedious process of working the land with a hoe, I now commenced plowing. Providence crowned my labors with abundant success, and we had plenty to eat and wear. Of course, our wants were few and exceedingly simple, and the products of the soil and hunting yielded a rich supply, Thus we lived within ourselves on our own industry, oui only dependence being upon the favors of an overruling, 164 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF bountiful Benefactor. We spun and wove our own fabrics for clothing, and had no tax, no muster, no court, no justices, no lawyers, no constables, and no doctors, and, consequently, had no exorbitant fees to pay to profes- sional gentlemen. The law of kindness governed our social walks ; and if such a disastrous thing as a quarrei should break out, the only way to settle the difficulty was by a strong dish of fisticuffs. No man was permitted to insult another without resentment; and if an insult was permitted to pass unrevenged, the insulted party lost his standing and caste in society. Many a muss or spree was gotten up, in which, the best of friends quarreled and fought, through the sole influence of the brown jug. It was seldom we had any preaching; but if a travel- ing minister should come along and make an appointment, all would go out to preaching. If the preaching was on a week-day, the men would go in their hunting-shirts, with their guns. On Sabbath the gun was left at home, but the belt and knife were never forgotten. When assem- bled all was attention and order, and no one was allowed to behave disorderly, as such conduct would have been punished, and the miscreant driven from decent society. Such was the high sense of honor and decorum, that a young woman would discard the society of any'young man who would be guilty of overstepping the bounds of propriety. We have fallen, however, upon different times. In the rapid march of civilization and refinement, we find young men, "nice young men," and, strange to say, young women^too, who can, on these occasions, with the most unblushing effrontery, desecrate the house of God, and disturb a whole congregation of worshipers, without elicit- ing any censure from a large majority. I once went a considerable distance to hear father John Collins preach. When I arrived there the house was REV r . JAMES B. FINLEY/. 155 filled to overflowing. Being just able to crowd in the door, I stood listening, deeply interested with the soft, sweet tones of his silvery voice, as he described the love of God to man. Every sentence increased my interest, so that I would not have lost a word for a world. Just when my interest was wrought up to the highest pitch of intensity, a fellow, without sense or manners, commenced disturbing the congregation by talking arid moving about. I told him two or three times to be quiet, but he still persisted. So I took him by the arm, and led him out some distance from the house, intending to give him a severe horsewhipping for his impudence and insolence; but he pleaded so hard and pitifully, and promised never to be guilty of so mean an act again, that I let him go. At that time there were but few schools in the country, and they were like angels' visits. The schoolmaster was evidently abroad. The most of the children were, how- ever, taught to read ; as for writing, that was an accom- plishment for which they had no use. Those who had the rare privilege of going to school generally graduated in a quarter. The Sabbath day was usually spent in vis- iting, hunting, and fishing; but notwithstanding this was the general practice when there were no meetings, I never could indulge in it, for two reasons: First, I was taught, from my youth up, to "remember the Sabbath day, and keep it holy," and my conscience would condemn me more for a breach of this commandment than for almost any other sin I committed. Second, I had a conviction that if I hunted on the Sabbath day I would have no luck all through the next week. I observed that those who made a practice of hunting on that day were always the most unsuccessful hunters. I once broke this commandment of God. It was a most lovely day. The sun rose bright and clear. Al< nature rejoiced in his light. The birds sang sweetly theii 156 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF matin songs, and a holy quiet reigned around, save when an occasional hunter's gun would break the stillness, sound- in^ as harsh almost as discord in heaven. Strange that I should, under such circumstances, be tempted; and yet I was powerfully, irresistibly tempted. I persuaded my wife to go to the nearest neighbor's, with a promise that I would soon follow. When she was gone, I took my gun, ran about a mile from home, and seeing a fine, large buck, I fired, and killed him ; then taking out his entrails, I threw him over a log, and returned. When I anived at home I began to feel safe in the reflection, that no one had seen me; but quick as lightning Conscience reared her terrific scepter, and uttered, in a voice of thunder, " God has seen you, and you have shown that you fear man more than you do God." How much then did I wish my load back in my gun, and the buck alive, grazing in his own native forest ! Wicked as I was, I was accu >- tomed to pray for luck in hunting; and I believed then that God often heard and answered my prayers. Once, in particular, my brother John and myself had been hunting for three entire days without success, and were hungry as wolves. The leaves were so dry it was impos- sible for us to get near enough to any game to shoot it. Weary and faint, I prayed to God for help. My brother, being on the opposite side of a branch, as soon as I ceased praying, started up a buck, which ran directly toward me. I was as much impressed with the belief that God Ltad sent him as that he sent the ram to the thicket on Moriah. Aftpr coming near to me, he stopped, and 1 shot him. This fall a neighbor and myself, urged by our wives, -vent some distance to gather cat-tails to make them beds, as the leaf beds were nearly worn out. We entered upon the journey, and had not proceeded many miles till oui dog started up a bear, and soon ran it up a tree. I REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 157 remained there only a short time, when it let go and came down. I sprang from my horse and ran while the dogs were fighting, and forgetting to cock my gun, placed the muzzle of it against the bear and pulled the trigger, but it would not fire ; so I threw it down, and taking my tom- ahawk was about to strike, when it broke loose and ran away. Soon after this we saw a large buck running across our track. I bleated; he stopped, and I shot him. After gathering our bags full of cat -tails, we started, about sundown, to hunt a place to camp. Soon after we started, I heard the dogs after a bear. Leaving my horse with my companion, I ran half a mile and found a large bear treed by the dogs. It was getting dark, but taking as good aim as I could I fired and he fell, but was only wounded and regained his position. I loaded and fired again, and again he fell ; but before I could reload he was up and fighting with the dogs. I ran up to him, placed my gun against his ear, and killed him. Here we en- camped all night and feasted on the deer which we had killed, and in the morning we breakfasted on the bear's feet, which had been roasting in the ashes all night This meal constitutes the richest conceivable delicacy. Som€ hunters think a beaver's tail is better, or the marrow from the joint of a buffalo, but I beg leave to differ. Those who have been living on puddings and confectionaries know nothing of these good things. This was an unlucky year to me, as I lost all the prop- erty I had by going security, or appearance-bail, at court for one of my neighbors. It being forty miles to Chili- cothe, I did not go to lift my bonds ; and after judgment went against him he ran away, and they held me special bail for the debt, which I always believed was unjust. I knew nothing of the matter till the deputy sheriff came with an execution. I had in my possession one hundred acres of military land, and had made good and substantial I5S AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF improvements thereon, but all must go to pay the debt? of another. It made a clean sweep; took all my land and all the money I had to the last farthing. I then vowed that I would never again, as long as I lived, go security for any living being. Right or wrong as this vow may have been, I have kept it to this day. I consoled my wife as well as I could, and told her we were young, and had begun the world with nothing, and would do it again. I requested her to stay at home, and keep house, and I would take to the woods and hunt. Bear-skins commanded a good price — from three to seven dollars, according to the size and quality. I spent the winter mostly in the woods, and suffered much from lying out at night without bed-clothes or bed, only as I could make one out of dry bark. I wrapped skins around me and laid by the fire. It was a prosperous winter, and success, the most sanguine, crowned my days and nights of toil and privation. From the proceeds of my winter campaign, I was enabled to purchase as good a home a? that from which the law had ejected me. Thus I passed seven years, farming in the summer anc 1 hunting in the winter, and adding to my resources till I had a comfortable home, with every thing necessary to make a backwoodsman happy. But my neighbors became too numerous, and my hunting-grounds were broken in upon by the ax of civilization ; game became scarce and hard to take ; my ranges were broken up, and I had about come to the conclusion to go to a new country. It seemed as though my happiness depended upon a life in the woods — "the grand old woods," where Nature had erected her throne, and where she swayed her scepter. Alone in the deep solitude of the wilderness man can commune with himself and Nature and her God, and real- ize emotions and thoughts that the crowded city never can produce. To oe sure one has said, "A great city is a REV. JAMES B. FINLET. 15^ groat desert;" but it is a desert of depraved humanity, where every one is wrapped up in selfishness, and guards' himself against his neighbor while his heart rankles wmi envy at his prosperity, or his wild, unbridled ambition urges him on the reckless course of outstripping all his competitors. Kot so in the woods. There pride; envy, selfishness, and ambition have no abode. The only evil spirit that haunts the woods is Melancholy. This will often steal upon the heart of those who have not found the satisfying portion which religion imparts. There are some scenes in the wilderness where a gloomy grandeur reigns around, and they often inspire like sensations in the mind of the beholder. Speaking of Melancholy, a certain poet says : " She dwells by a cave, where the cypress and willow Are gemmed with the tears that fall from hei eyes The cold earth her bed, the flint-stone her pihow, Midnight her mantle, her curtain the skies; Her tresses are dark as the wings of the raven, Her robes are all jet, and her bosom is bare ; Like a bark on the waves, 'mid the whirlwinds of heaven, She wanders distracted, or sinks to despair." Unexcited by the chase, the hunter, especially if alone, is apt to become melancholy ; and though sages may speak of "the charms of solitude," the mind, without some stimulus, would not be likely to discover them. Again and again have I felt this melancholy steal over me like a cloud over the face of the sun ; and were it possible to write out my thoughts, conjectures, imaginings, hopes, fears, and temptations while alone in the woods, it would startle a reader unused to such scenes and associations Often a stirring adventure would break in upon the dead sea of thought or the whirlpool of passion, reusing the one or calming the other, and again the life would flow on in the even tenor of its way. On one occasion my feelings underwent a sudden trans- 1 (30 A U T O U I G B APHY OF formation by an incident which occurred. I had beer brooding in melancholy over my bad luck, when a iargf she bear, started up by my dogs, broke the reverie. ] shot at and wounded her; but she had attacked my dogs and was killing one of them. No time was to be lost, so I ran up and thrust my knife into her side. At this she released her hold of the dog and caught me by the leg. In my effort to get released I was thrown upon my back She then made an attack on me, and I felt that scarcely any thing short of a miracle could save me. Already I eould see her wide, distended jaws ready to devour me. The dogs, though wounded, recommenced the attack, and succeeded in pulling her off, and thus saved me from death. Being released, I succeeded in killing my enemy. At another time, my neighbor was with me hunting coons. At night the dogs caught some' animal in a grape-vine thicket. I ran in to see what it was, and stooping down found myself directly between the horns of a large buck, which had become entangled in the vine. I was now lit- erally between the horns of a dilemma. My companion cut the ham-strings, and I took hold of one horn and placed my feet on the other for the purpose of throwing him. At this he made one lunge, broke the vine, and threw me some distance on my back. Had my feet siipped, I would doubtless have been gored to death. Thus I have endeavored to give the reader some ac- count of the scenes and trials through which I passed ip .he woods of the west. KEV. JAMES B FINLEY. 16J CHAPTER VIII. RELIGIOUS LIFE. Having given some small account of my training in the woods^ I will now go back and give the reader some ac- count of my religious education. As I before remarked, I was raised by Presbyterian parents. As customary in that Church, a custom too, I would remark, worthy of all praise, I was taught the catechism. From this I learned e taken, prisoners, to Fort Pitt, or put to death, request- i ig those who were in favor of saving their lives to march - ut of rank, and form a second rank in advance. Only ighteen, out of the whole number, stepped out as the ad- vocates of mercy. In these the feelings of humanity pre- /ailed; but in the others, constituting the large majority, humanity and justice were utterly extinct. They had de- liberately come to the conclusion to murder the whole of the Christian Indians in their power. Among the doomed were several who had contributed to aid the missionaries in the work of conversion and civilization ; two of whom emigrated from New Jersey after the death of their pas- tor, Rev. David Brainard. One Indian female, who could speak good English, fell upon her knees before William- son, the commander, and begged most eloquently and pit- eously for his protection; but all her supplications and pleadings were unheeded by the heartless and dastardly wretch, who ordered her to prepare for death. They had anticipated the cruel fate that awaited them , and their hymns of praise and fervent prayers ascended from their prison, during the whole of that eventful night. REV. JAMES B. FliLET. 200 to their great Father in heaven. Their prayers and tears, and their pleadings for mercy and protection were lost upon their white murderers, but they entered the ears of an avenoinor God. When the morning sun" arose, the work of death commenced, and a scene of human butch- ery occurred, of sufficient enormity to move the heart most used to blood and carnage, and gather paleness on the cheek of darkness itself. One after another, men, women, and children were led out to a block prepared foi the dreadful purpose, and, being commanded to sit down, the ax of the butcher, in the hands of infuriate demons, clave their skulls. Two persons, who were present at that time, and who related to me the fearful story, assured me that they were unable to witness, but for a short time, the horrid scene. One of these men stated that when he ,aw the incarnate fiends lead a pretty little girl, about twelve years of age, to the fatal block, and heard her plead for her life, in the most piteous accents, till her inno- cent voice was hushed in death, he felt a faintness come over him, and could no lonq-er stand the heart-sickenino Gcene. The dreadful work of human slaughter continued till every prayer, and moan, and sigh was hushed in the stillness of death. No sex, age, or condition was spared, from the gray-haired sire to the infant at its mother's breast. All fell victims to the most cold-blooded murder ever perpetrated by man. There lay, in undistinguished confusion, gashed and gcry, in that cellar, where they were thrown by their butchers, nearly one hundred murdered Christian Indians, hurried to an untimely grave by those who had but two days before sworn to protect them. God of humanity, what an act! But this was not enough. If possible, to highten its atrocity, the buildings were fired, and the tim- bers of their peaceful homes were made the fuel that con- sumed their lifeless bodies. When I stood beside this cel- 14 210 ACTOBIOGEaPII t of lar, and witnessed its blackened and dilapidated walls, and learned with what fortitude those poor Moravian In- dian brethren met their martyr fate, some of them prais- ing God to the last, others, like their divine Master, pray- ing for their murderers, none can tell the deep and overwhelming feelings of my soul. But, blessed be God! Satan can only go the length of his chain ! The ax of persecution can only cut down the separating wall that 'ets the saint into heaven. The fires can only consume the mortality, from which the deathless spirit is evolved, and from whence it shall go, as in chariots of fire, to heaven. At this settlement I found the Rev. Mr. Mortimer, who had charge of the Indians, and the Rev. George Godfrey Miller, who had charge of the whites in the Moravian reservation. Here I ventured to go and preach, and the Lord owned and blessed his word ; many were awakened and converted. I formed a class, and appointed a leader. This rather displeased old father Miller, and he wrote me a letter, requesting me to leave the reservation, and not preach there any more. I sent him word that I could not do that; as my commission was to go into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every creature; and that, as soon as I was able, I intended to obey the Divine com- mand; and if he had any thing to say, he must say it to my Master. I furthermore said, if he could ascertain from the Lord that my field of labor did not include the reservation, then 1 would comply with his request, and retire. The next week the old gentleman walked four miles, to brother Karr's, to meeting. I asked him to preach for us, which he did; and after meeting, at my icquest, he remained with us in class, where he received, with all of us, a powerful blessing. The whole class was in a flame of love and joy ; and the old Moravian saint caught the fire, and shouted, as loud as any of us, the REV JAMES B. FIN LEY. 211 praises of God. After this, whenever he could, he wor- shiped with us, and never alluded to my leaving the reservation. On this circuit there were four local preachers; namely, J. M. Round, John Willey, J. Myers, and James Sharrock; all efficient and useful ministers of the New Testament. My first was perhaps the most interesting of all the years of my itinerant life. I kept a memorandum of the names, places, and date of all that joined ; amounting to one hundred and seventy-eight in number, some of v^hom became preachers, and are now on the walls of Zion, pro- claiming salvation in the name of the Lord. 212 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF CHATTER XI. LOST IN THE MOUNTAINS. In ihc bounds of my first circuit lived sister Boarer, a history of whose wonderful deliverance, by Providence, was related to me with her own lips, and I will narrate it for the benefit of my readers. Mrs. Boarer, the heroine and narrator of the story, was the wife of Mr. George Boarer, and was, by education and parentage, a Roman Catholic. Her parents were natives of Berkley county, Va., and, at the time, were residents of the country in the vicinity of Sleepy creek. Early on the morning of the 7th of January, 1800, she left home on a borrowed horse, to cross the Capon Mountains, to visit her aged parents. .She took with her an infant child, a daughter, seven months old. The snow upon th« mountains was three feet deep, and the weather was ex- ceedingly cold. For defense, and company's sake, sh* took with her the house-dog, a very large spaniel. Hav- ing gained the top of the mountain range, she concluded to leave the great road, and, by a short cut, arrive the same night at her father's house. She had, however, not proceeded far before she found herself bewildered, and, in consequence, becoming fright ened. She dared not turn back, but wandered about through the mountain till night had settled its gloom over the world. She then dismounted; and having fastened her horse to a sapling, she prepared a place, as well as circumstances would admit, where to pass the night. The snow, as before remarked, was three feet deep ; the dark- RET. JAMES B. FINLEY. 213 aess was profound, and the wind from the nor Ji- west oroke in a hurricane above her. With no company but her child, and no protector but her dog-, her condition was lonely beyond the imagination to conceive. Fortunately, she had with her some extra clothing, in the shape of a cloak and a shawl. Removing, as well as she sould, the snow from beneath a large tree, she took her apparel and made the best disposition possible with it; and, with her child and her dog, she composed herself for the night. Sister Boarer stated to me, that for a week previous to undertaking this journey she was unusually exercised about her spiritual, welfare, and very frequently took an old prayer-book and read it. Now, far from her home, desolate and distressed, she felt the need of close communion with God. The prayers which she had read the week before came fresh to her mind, which she offered fervently to her Maker. The night was long and dreary, and she spent it without sleep. Very shortly after fastening her horse, the animal became uneasy, and breaking his bridle, started off at full speed. This greatly added to her misfortunes, for she had hoped by him to have reached some settlement the next day. At length day dawned ; and though, by the help of her clothing and her dog, she had kept herself and child from freezing, yet she was so benumbed by the cold as almost to be unable to walk and carry her infant daughter with- her. This was Saturday morning. She now left part of her clothing, and made an effort to return to the point where she left the great road. After traveling till she was nearly exhausted, she concluded that, unless she reached the settlement, she must perish with the cold. Indulging the hope, however, thai she might keep herself from freez- ing, or be found by some one, she thought it best to return to the spot where she passed the previous night 214 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF Accordingly, she started back, and, on her way, hung up her apron on a bush, and afterward a handkerchief, as signs of distress, in hope, though indeed but faint hope, *hat some passing hunter might see one or the other, and come to her relief. Late in the afternoon of Saturday, and with great difficulty, she regained her lodging-place. But feeling now the dread of passing another night in so desolate a place, and summoning that indomitable spirit of courage, peculiar to her sex when in difficulty and danger, and seeing the sun fast declining, she determined to change her course, and make one more desperate eflbrt to gain some settlement. Throwing off part of her ap- parel, in order to be less incumbered, she began again to contend with the snow, rocks, and caverns of the mount- ains, and at length came to a deep, narrow gorge, down the sides of which she could not descend with her child. She looked up and down, but could see no place that offered an easier passage than the one before her. She hesitated a moment, but having no other alternative, she threw her child over, and then followed herself. By tak- ing hold of the laurel bushes on the opposite side of the ravine, she managed to crawl up to the place where her child lighted, which, to her great joy, she found uninjured, save by a slight scratch on its face, caused by its falling on the crust of the snow. Resuming her journey, she came upon a hog-path, which led to a cleft of shelving rocks where these animals were accustomed to sleep. She had now traveled — as was afterward ascertained — one mile and a half. Here she might have remained shel- tered for the night, but fearing the return' of the half starved hogs, and that herself, her child, and her dog, might all become a sudden prey to their voraciousness, and her family never learn their fate, she immediately resumed her march, and, weary and faint, made her way about three hundred yards off, to the fide of the mounl RET. JAMES B. FIX LEY. 215 am Finding her stockings entirely cut up by the crust of the snow, and her limbs, and ankles, and feet all bleed- ing, shi yielded the stiuggle, and under some pine bushes hard by, she obtained a place to sit down ; but the snow sinking beneath her, rendered her situation most critical and desperate. She took care to wrap her Clothes around her feet and body as well as she could ; then clasping her babe warm to her bosom, she committed herself to God. Her faithful doo- had not left her, and this niffht would he down just where she bade him ; sometimes on her feet and limbs, and sometimes at her back, changing alter- nately, as if to keep her from freezing. During the night she fell asleep, being exhausted with the labor and with want of food. This night it snowed and blew, till the new fall of snow was ten inches deep on the top of the former. When she awoke she heard the chickens crowing at the foot of the mountain, and the do^'s barkino*, so near was she to a house ; but the wind was blowing directly from them to her, which proved extremely unfavorable to her. About the same time she thought she heard the people feeding their cattle. She called as loud and as long as she could, but no one came to her relief. This morn- ing she found that her feet and limbs were badly swelled, and the skin, in many places, broken. This discovery went home to her heart, and she com- menced to make her peace with God, and gave herself up to die. She thought if her infant child were dead, she, too, could die in peace ; but to leave it to perish with cold and hunger, was a thought more than a mother's heart could bear She laid the little thing down to freeze to death before she should die herself, but when it wept she would take it up and clasp it to her bosom. De- spairing at last to make herself heard, as the wind con- tinued to blow violently in a contrary direction, she 21(5 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF resorted to another expedient. It was this : She pinned her child's bonnet around the dog's neck and sent him to solicit help. The poor animal, as if perfectly understand- ing hei meaning, started off immediate!}', and was after- ward tracked to the house nearest to his distressed mis- tress, and then to a mill ; but, it being Sabbath day and extremely cold, the dwellings were all shut up and no one saw him, and in an hour or two he returned and took up his station. When it was becoming about feeding time she commenced calling again, and a man on the top of a stack of bay heard her, and told his wife that he heard something on the mountain making a noise like a person in distress ; and he went to a neighbor and told him the same thing; to which the latter, however, only replied, "I suppose it must be a panther." This night was likewise spent in making her peace with God, and she stated to me that if she had perished that night she had no doubt but that she would have gone to heaven. Part of the night was spent in great anxiety about her child. Her faithful dog, as he had done' before, kept close to her, and would iay down precisely where told to. This circumstance, in connection with that of being covered with snow, kept her from freezing to death. In the morning, which was Monday, she commenced calling, the (bird time, for help. Her clothes were frozen to the ground, and kept her from rising, and her exhaus- tion was complete. She called like one yielding to de- spair; but the wind being now favorable, a man who was feeding his stock heard her voice, as also did his wife in the house, who was intimately acquainted with the dis- tressed heroine of our narrative, and who said to her husband, "If Polly Boarer was near, I should say it was her voice." James Smith and John M'Intyre took their guns, and mounted their horses and started, but were deceived in their course by the echoes of Mrs. Boarer'* REV. JAMES B. FIXLE1*. 217 roice. They hunted nearly all day, and returned home, and were about putting up their horses, when Mr. Smith heard the same plaint of distress. The sun was. about an houi high, and the long, lingering beams, striking from the far horizon upon the snow-clad wilds, inspired feelings of the deepest gloom and solitude. They started again, but the feeble cry of the perishing woman had ceased, and, just as the men were taking a wrong direction, she said that she felt an indefinable, mys- terious feeling come over her, which seemed to say that if she only would call again, help would come to her. She, therefore, called once more, and was heard, and found. But a new difficulty now arose. She was frozen to the ground, and was almost lifeless, and her faithful dog refused to let the strangers approach. At length, how- ever, he was pacified. She had not shed a tear till this moment of her rescue. But now the tears fell, like rain- drops, from her eyes. She was speedily conveyed to the nearest house, where she became insensible, and remained so for twenty-four hours. The flesh fell or rather peeled off her limbs, and many of her toes came off; so that she was unable to walk till the following August — a period of over six months. Her husband supposed that his wife was safe at her father's, and her father never thought that she had started to visit his family. The horse, after be- coming free, did not return home ; so that there was no suspicion felt in regard to her safety. I leave the reader to his and to her own reflections on this incident. I have heard the mother and the daughter tell, in love-feast, what I have here imperfectly told you. How true, and how applicable in every condition of life — in poverty or in health, in prosperity or adversity, m sun- shine or in storm, in plenty or in distress — that declara- tion of the merciful Keeper of our race, "My grace ii sutneient for thee I" 218 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF CHAPTER XII. THE DOOMED CHIEFTAIN. During this summer an event occurred, on the circuit adjoining the one which I traveled, of a tragical and mel- ancholy character; and, as I propose, in connection with my own biography, to furnish the reader with a cotempo- rarieous history of the times in which I lived, I will relate the circumstances connected with that event. On the evening of the first day of June six Wyandott warriors went to the house of Mr. Benjamin Sells, on the Scioto river, about twelve miles above the spot where now stands the city of Columbus. They were equipped in the most warlike manner, and exhibited, during their stay, an unusual degree of agitation. Having ascertained that an old Wyandott chief, for whom they had boen making dili- gent inquiry, was then encamped, at a distance of about two miles further up, on the west bank of the river, the) expressed a determination to put him to death, aad imme diately went off in the direction of his lodge. These facts were communicated, early on the ensuing morning, to Mr. John Sells, who now resides in the village of Dublin, on the Scioto, about two miles from the place where the doomed Wyandott met his fate. Mr. Sells im- mediately proceeded up the river, on horseback, in quest of the Indians. He soon arrived at the lodge, which he found situated in a grove of .sugar-trees, close to the bank of the river. The six warriors were seated, in consul ta tioc, at the distance of a few rods from the lodge. The old chief was with them, evidently in the character of a REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 210 prisoner. His arms were confined by a small cord, but lie eat with them without any manifestation of uneasiness. A few of the neighboring white men were likewise there, and a gloomy -looking Indian, who had been the compan- ion of the chief, but now kept entirely aloof — sitting sul- lenly in the camp. Mr. Sells approached the Indians, and found them earnestly engaged in debate. A charge of "witchcraft" had been made, at a former time, against the chief, by some of his captors, whose friends had been destroyed, as they believed, by means of his evil powers. This crime, according to the immemorial usage of the tribe, involved a forfeiture of life. The chances of a hunter's life had brought the old man to his Dresent loca- tion, and his pursuers had sought him out, in order that they might execute upon him the sentence of their law. The council was of two or three hours' duration. The accusing party spoke alternately, with much ceremony, but with evident bitterness of feeling. The prisoner, in his replies, was eloquent, though dispassionate. Occa- sionally a smile of scorn would appear, for an instant, on his countenance. At the close of the consultation it was ascertained that they had reaffirmed the sentence of death which had before been passed upon the chief. In- quiry having been made, by some of the white men, with reference to their arrangements, the captain of the sii warriors pointed to the sun, and signified to them that the execution would take place at one o'clock in the after- noon. Mr. Sells went to the captain, and asked him what the chief had done. "Very bad Indian," ha replied, "make good Indian sick — make horse sick — make die — rery bad chief." Mr. Sells then made an effort to per- suade his white friends to rescue the victim of supeisti tion from his impending fate, but to no purpose. They were then in a frontier situation, entirely open to the incursions of the northern tribes, and were, consequently, 220 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF unwilling to subject themselves to the displeasure of theii savage visitors by any interference with their operations He then proposed to release the chief by purchase — offer- ing to the captain, for that purpose, a fine horse, of the value of three hundred dollars. "Let me him see," said the Indian. The horse was accordingly brought forward, and closely examined; and so much were they staggered by this proposition, that they again repaired to their place of consultation, and remained in council a considerable length of time before it was finally rejected. The conference was again terminated, and five of thf Indians began to amuse themselves with running, jump ing, and other athletic exercises. The captain took n< part with them. When again inquired of as to the tim< of execution, he pointed to the sun, as before, and indi cated the hour of four. The prisoner then walked slowlj to his camp, partook of a dinner of jerked venison, washed, and arrayed himself in his best apparel, and afterward painted his face. His dress was very rich-- his hair gray, and his whole appearance graceful and commanding. At his request the whole company drew around him at the lodge. He had observed the exertions made by Mr. Sells in his behalf, and now presented to him a written paper, with a request that it might be read to the company. It was a recommendation, signed by Governor Hull, and, in compliance with the request of the prisoner, it was fixed and left upon the side of a large tree, at a short distance from the wigwam. The hour of execution being close at hand, the chief shook hands in silence with the surrounding spectators. On coming to Mr. Sells he appeared much moved, grasped his hand warmly, spoke fur a few minutes in the Wyan- dott language, and pointed to the heavens. He then Uirned from the wigwam, and, with a voice of surpassing strong t 1 ana melody, commenced the chant of the death- REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 221 song. He was followed closely by the Wyandott war- riors, all timing, with their slow and measured march, the music of his wild and melancholy dirge. The white men were all likewise silent followers in that strange procession. A t the distance of seventy or eighty yards from the camp they came to a shallow grave, which, unknown to the white men, had been previously prepared by the Indians. Here the old man kneeled down, and, in an elevated but solemn tone of voice, addressed his prayer to the Great Spirit. As soon as he had finished, the captain of the In- dians kneeled beside him, and prayed in a similar manner. Their prayers, of course, were spoken in the Wyandott tongue. When they arose, the captain was again accosted by Mr. Sells, who insisted that, if they were inflexible in the determination to shed blood, they should at least re- move their victim beyond the limits of the white settle- ments. "No!" said he, very sternly, and with evident displeasure, "no — good Indian fraid — he no go with this bad man — mouth give fire in the dark night — good In- dian fraid — he no go! My friend," he continued, "me tell you — white man bad man, white man kill him — In- dian say nothing." Finding all interference futile, Mr. Sells was at length compelled, reluctantly, to abandon the old man to his fate. After a few moments' delay, he again sank down upon his knees, and prayed, as he had done before. When he had ceased praying he still continued in a kneeling position. All the rifles belonging to the party had been left at the wigwam. There was not a weapon of any kind to be seen at the place of execution, and the spectators were, conse- quently, unable to form any conjecture as to the mode of procedure which the executioners had determined on for the fulfillment of their purpose. Suddenly one of the war- riors drew, from beneath the skirts of his capote, a keen, bright tomahawk, walked rapidly up behind the chieftain. 2'J2 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF orandished the weapon on high for a single moment, and then struck with his whole strength. The blow descended directly upon the crown of the head, and the victim im- mediately fell prostrate. After he had lain awhile in the agonies of death, the Indian captain directed the attention of the white men to the drops of sweat which were gath- ering upon h\s neck and face, remarking, with much ap- parent exultation, that it was conclusive proof of the suf- ferer's guilt Again the executioner advanced, and, with the same weapon, inflicted two or three additional and heavy blows. As soon as life was entirely extinct, the body was hast- ily buried, with all its apparel and decorations, and the assemblage dispersed. The Wyandotts returned imme- diately to their hunting-grounds, and the white 'men to their homes. Around the spot where his bones repose, the towering forest has now given place to the grain field; and the soil above nim has, for years, been furrowed and refurrowed by the plowshare. The Wyandott nation, to whom the old chief belonged, never afterward were reconciled to the tribe that killed him. REV. JAMES B. FINI.EY. 2^2 CHAPTER XIII. ITINERANT LIFE CONTINUED. At the conference which was held November 1, 1 8 lO, 1 w us appointed to Knox circuit. This circuit was taken Irom Fairfield circuit at the conference held in Cincinnati on the thirtieth of September, 1809, and, of course, this was the second year of its existence. Though a large circuit, still it was not so large as Wills Creek. It com- menced at the mouth of Licking opposite Zanesville, and embraced all the settlements on that stream up to New- ark ; thence up the south fork of Licking to Holmes's, and on to Granville, extending as far as Raccoontown, now Johnstown ; thence on the north fork to Robinson's mill and Lee's, on to Mount Vernon and Mitchell Young's; thence down Owl creek to Sapp's and John's, and down to the mouth of Whitewoman; thence down the Mus- kingum, m eluding the Wapatomica country, to the place of beginning. It took four full weeks to travel around [his circuit. It was well supplied with local help, there being eight local preachers living within its bounds, as follows: James Smith, John Green, Rapp, Joseph Pigman, James Fleming, Joseph Tharp, Parks, and Pumphrey. Six of these were from Virginia, and the other two from Monongahela. At that time they were all pious men, and devoted zealously to their Master's cause. I commenced my first round with much fear and trem- bling, and most ardently did I pray for Divine guidance and protection. At some of the appointments, I was 221 AL'TOBIOGEAPIII OF permitted to witness the fruit of my labors in the awaken ino- and conversion of sinners to God. At Bowling Green the Lord visited us with a great and powerful revival. Many souls were converted and made to rejoice with a joy unspeakable and full of glory. Mul- titudes were also added to the Church, and the people of God were greatly refreshed in spirit. But as it is in almost all revivals so in this — the devil was roused from his slumbers in hearing the prison-doors fly open and the chains fall off from the captives, and like Giant Despair, in good old Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, he hastened to defend his castle. During our night meetings the emis- saries of Satan cut the people's clothes with scissors as they engaged in prayer. They also cut the saddles and bridles of the horses. This, however, only increased the zeal of God's people, and drove them more closely to the Lord and to each other. A great and glorious work also broke out at Mount Vernon. At this place there lived an Indian woman, who was united in marriage to a man who had been a prisoner in the tribe to which she belonged. She was in the habit of attending our meetings, and seemed to take a great interest in all our exercises. On one occasion, after preaching, she staid in class, and when I came round I spoke to her on the subject of her soul's salvation. She wept and said, "Me too bad, me no love get good, me too much sin, me sick, me no sleep, me no eat, me walk all night, me no look to Great Spirit; he no love me, me so bad." I told her to pray to the Great Spirit and he would bless her. I asked her if she did not love her child when it did bad and then was sorry for it. "0 yes, me love my child." Then said I, "God will pity, and love, and save you when you cry and are sorry for your sins." At this she went away weeping as though her heart would break. At the next meeting of the class she came again, KEV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 225 but, instead of being filled with sorrow and anguish, she was happy in the love of God. When she arose to speak, she said, "Me no more sorry; me no more .sick; me happy, happy, happy; my husband, he pray to Great Spirit, and cry too, and he happy; den we go togedder." She was an interesting woman. Her dark, raven tresses fell in glossy ringlets over her shoulders, and her large, dark, lustrous eye beamed with the joy of heaven. She was the happiest creature, I think, I ever beheld. Though she spoke broken English, she 1 was cultivated and grace- ful, and one of the finest specimens of nature's children that could be found in the western wildwood. This year we had two camp meetings on our circuit, and they were both attended with great power. At the last one which was held, we were favored with both of our Bishops, Asbury and M'Kendree. During the prog- ress of this meeting, the greatest and most wonderful dis- plays of the Divine power were manifested, and many were saringly converted to God. Brother Samuel Hamilton was converted at this meet- ing, and soon became a flaming herald of the cross. In a short time he entered the traveling connection, and has been engaged in effective, laborious service till within a few years past, when, in consequence of ill-health, he was obliged to abandon the work he loved so well, and take a superannuated relation. Brother Gavit was also converted a*t this meeting, and still lives to bear witness to the power of Divine grace in changing the heart. He resided in the town of Granville, which had been settled by a company from New England, of the old stock of Calvinistic Puritans. He was a con- firmed Deist, and had been rooted and grounded in infi- delity for many years. In this town resided an old sea captain with his wife and two daughters. The captain was a confirmed drunkard, and was spending all his prop- 15 226 AUTOBiC GEAPHY O* ertj in the gratification of this monster appetite. At a town meeting, Mr. Gavit was appointed his guardian— a most wholesome arrangement. Every conceivable means was used by th^ guardian to break up the habit of the captain, and every inducement was offered to get him restored to sobriety. All, however, proved in vain. As a last resort, he took him to camp meeting ; for, although he had no faith in religion, and cared not for any of its exercises, he believed, from what he had seen and heard, that the Methodists had some process by which they could transform a drunkard into a sober man. The time at length arrived, and, with much moral sua- sion and physical force, he succeeded in getting Mr. B. into the carriage, in company with himself, Mrs. Gavit, and their eldest son. On Saturday they arrived on the ground, and pitched their tent that evening. In the mean time the captain stole away from their observation, and became intoxicated. Mr. Gavit went and brought him into the tent. A strict watch was now kept over him, lest he should again run away. The Sabbath passed away, and B. became perfectly sober. In the evening God opened heaven, and let down glory on the encamp- ment. A praying circle was formed; and Mr. Gavit, taking the captain by the arm, said, "Let us go into the circle, for I have brought you here to get you converted, and now is the time." I saw them coming ; and as they approached, he asked me if they could get in. I made a way for them in the crowd, and they passed in. After succeeding in getting as close as possible to those who were engaged in leading i be exercises, Mr. Gavit said to the captain, "Who will you have to pray for you?" "I don't want any one to pray for me," he replied. "But you must get down on your knees, and have the prayers of this people," REV. JAMES B. FIN LET. 227 Seeing he was resolved, and knowing the determined character of the man, he said, "Well, if I must have prayer, I would just as soon have Mr. C, the class-leader, pray for me, as any one. ,: The leader was soon brought, and Mr. G. said to the captain, "Now get down on your knees." He replied, "I don't like to do that, unless you wih kneel with me." In an instant both were on their knees, and the class- leader began to pray, with all the faith and fervency of his soul, for the salvation of both. The power of God came down, and, in less than two minutes, Gavit fell pros- trate on the ground, and screamed for mercy, like one in despair. This frightened the captain, and, springing from his knees, he fled through the crowd, and made his escape. We carried G. out of the crowd, and brought his wife and son, but could not get the captain to move a step from the tent. We prayed with G. all night, during which time his wife and son were powerfully convicted.. They all continued to pray and seek religion, but did not find peace. The time arrived for the meeting to close, and Mr. G. and family made their departure for home. A heavy load was at his heart, and he was loth to leave the ground. While on the way, so insupportable did his burden of sin become, that he ordered his son to stop the carriage, and they all got out and held a prayer meeting by the road- side. During this meeting, the son was converted, and the captain became powerfully convicted, and began to cry for mercy. They again resumed their journey, the son shouting, the father and mother praying, and the cap tain weeping. On their journey they were stopped ai Newark, and invited to prayer meeting; at which Mr. G. and his wife both found peace in believing, and went on 228 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF their way home, giving glory to God. Shortly after thif the captain was happily converted. When I came rounc I formed a class, consisting of these four persons; and this was the introduction of Methodism into Granville. All these lived happy Christians. Mr. G. had two younger sons that embraced religion, and became efficient and use* ful traveling preachers. We were not only favored, at this camp meeting, with the presence of our beloved bishops, but also by the pres- ence of the Rev. Robert Manley, a naming herald of the cross, and pioneer of the Gospel in the west. I shall never forget the first time I saw him. At a camp meet- ing, held at brother John Collins's, on the east fork of the Little Miami, in the year preceding the one about which I am writing, I had the pleasure of an introduction to this devoted and talented minister, by brother Collins, who represented him as his spiritual father. When he arose in the stand, all eyes were turned toward him. Instead of giving out a hymn, as is cus- tomary on such occasions, before preaching, he com- menced, in a full, clear, and musical voice, singing thai exceedingly-impressive, spiritual song, "Awaked by Sinai's awful sound, My soul in guilt and thrall I found; I knew not where to go. O'erwhelmed with guilt, and anguish slain, The sinner must be born again, Or sink to endless woe." Before he had finished singing the fourth verse, the power of God came down, and pervaded the vast assem- bly, and- it became agitated — swelling and surging like the sea in a storm. It seemed as if the glory of God filled the entire encampment. At this meeting, it may be said, the power of Manley reached its culminating poinr Never did he preach with greater eloquence tind power nor were his efforts ever crowned with greater success keV. James b. einley. 229 But his work was done. Shortly after the meeting closed ne was taken sick, and called from labor to refreshment and rest in heaven, by the summons of his Master. "Servant of God, well done; Rest from thy loved employ: The battle's fought, the victory won; Enter thy Master's joy." During this round I made an attempt to preach in the town of Newark. This place was notorious for its wick- edness; and, as no house was opened for me, I was obliged to preach in the bar-room of a tavern. Fearing the citizens would cut my saddle, or shave my horse, I hid him in the bushes. When I stepped into the door I found the room full ; and many were crowded around the bar, drinking. It looked to me more like the celebration of a bacchanalian orgie, than a place for the worship of God. But I had made an appointment ; and I must fill it at all hazards ; and, as the Gospel was to be preached to e^ T ery creature, my mission extended to every place this side of hell. I procured a stool, and, placing it beside the door, got upon it, and cried out, at the top of my voice, "Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee life." For thirty minutes I labored to show the audience that they were on their way to hell, and as insensible of their danger as though locked fast in the embrace of sleep. I assured them that hell would soon awaken them. , When I had done warning them of their danger, and inviting them to Christ, I returned to the bushes, found my horse, and 'rode to brother Chan- nel's. The bar-room folks made search for me, but I was gone. They sent me word, if I came again they would roast me; but, notwithstanding, I made another appoint- ment in the court-house. On my next round, fearless of the threats of the bar-room hearers, I oreached in the court-house, to a 230 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF more orderly congregation, and formed a class. At thifc place I continued to preach regularly during the year, and was permitted to witness some fruits of my labors. On one of my tours down the north fork of Licking, one evening I heard, not far from me, the report of a rifle, and instantly heard some one scream as if shot. It was getting dark, and I rode on to brother Robinson's, and, after being there a short time, a messenger came and informed us that a man had been shot up the creek. We immediately started for the place where he was reported to have been shot, and found the track and blood in the snow. We traced the wounded man as far as the creek, which he had crossed, and, following him by the blood which had spurted from his wound at every jump, as from a stricken deer, for about one mile, where we found him in a cabin, with a family. He was shot through the body : but, being in a stooping position, the ball escaped his vitals. The man who shot him was a neighbor; to whom the wounded man had been a great friend. He had loaned his murderer a sum of money ; and for simply ask- ing the payment of a part of it, the debtor determined on killing him, for the purpose, doubtless, of getting clear of the whole debt. It appeared, from the testimony of the wounded man, that he had followed him a mile, and made several attempts to shoot, but was deterred, from some cause or other, till he arrived at that fatal spot. We bound up his wounds in the best manner we were able, and, after praying with him, returned home. A similar case occurred a few years since, in the melancholy death of Dr. Parkman, of Boston. 0, the wickedness of the human heart! Who can know it? Soon after our second camp meeting a glorious work commenced at the house of brother John's. After preach- ing, and meeting class, the company separated, and wenx id different directions, to their homes. On the way, a REV. JAMES B. FINLEY 231 young woman, who had been convicted at the meeting, fell down in the road, and greatly alarmed those who were with her. They scarcely knew what to do; but finally came to the conclusion to take her back to the place of meeting. She was the sister of the lady at whose house the meeting was held ; and when the cir- cumstance of her having fallen on the way home was noised abroad, the whole neighborhood came together. The religious portion commenced singing and praying; and, while engaged in these exercises, the power of God came down upon them, and many were smitten by the Divine influence, and fell to the floor, crying for mercy. The intelligence of this excitement spread in every direc- tion ; and great multitudes, from a distance, flocked together to see this wonderful thing. The young woman — ■ Eliza Hankins — still remained insensible, without exhibit- ing any signs of life. Fears were entertained by some, that she would never recover from this state ; but, after remaining apparently lifeless, for the space of thirty- two hours, she sprang instantly to her feet, and commenced singing and shouting alternately. Her face seemed lighted up with an unearthly radiance ; and, as she spoke of Jesus and heaven, hi strains of the most inimitable eloquence and sweetness, the whole congregation was overwhelmed, and we felt ourselves in the presence of a superior being, rather than that of an artless, unsophis- ticated country girl. This gave a fresh impulse to the work of God, and the exercises resembled those of a camp meeting more than any thing else. The meeting lasted ten days, increasing in interest and power; and there were at least one hundred happily converted to God. An incident occurred during this meeting worthy of particular note ; and, as it belongs to a class 01 frequent occurrence in the early days of Methodism in this coun- try, * will narrate it. A ywng man had come to the meet- 232 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF ing, who seemed to have been possessed of the devii. His ravings and blasphemy shocked all who heard him. He boastingly exclaimed that he defied the power of God; and that those who had fallen were overcome by the influence of fear, or nervous weakness. "While this stout-hearted young man was listening to the fervid elo- quence of the young woman before described, he sprang suddenly from his feet, and fell his whole length on the floor. Had he been shot through the heart, he would not nave fallen more suddenly, or been more lifeless to all appearance. Here was a marked demonstration of the power of God, in irresistible conviction ; and I determined to watch the issue closely. His companions in sin were terribly alarmed, and many of them hurried away. After lying a short time, the limbs of the young man became perfectly rigid, and remained in this state for eight hours, when they relaxed, and he was seized with convulsions of such an intense and powerful character, that it seemed as though he must die from the agony. While thus torn, as the demonized young man in the Gospel, till the hearts of all we're wrung with sympathy at his sufferings, and some began to fear the consequences, instantly he sprang to his feet, praising God for his salvation, and exhorting all his friends to seek an interest in the Savior. His con- version was a matter of astonishment to all. One man, who was inveterately opposed to the revival, said that it was the work of the devil. I replied, "If it be a work us the devil, when this young man recovers from this state he will curse and swear as formerly ; but if it be a work of God, h\\ oaths and curses will be turned into prayer9 and praises." When the gainsayer witnessed the wonder- ful change wrought on the young man, he was con- founded, and went away. The Lord crowned our labors this year with abundan' success. Upward of two hundred were added to tb- EEV. JAMES B. ElNLEY, 233 Church I left this circuit as I did my first one, with many tears, and knew not how strongly my heart, was attached to my brethren till I was called to separate from them. At the conference held in Cincinnati in 1811, E. Bow- man was appointed to be my successor. This was A sad appointment. He no sooner arrived than he commenced Bowing the vile seed of Arianism and Socinianism, which spread over the whole circuit. It was not long till it sprang up and produced its deadly fruit. James Smith, John Green, and other local preachers embraced this her- esy and joined the New Lights. Green soon backslid, lost the comforts of religion, and, as I learned, became a drunkard — broke the hearts of and beggared his once happy family. Rapp also embraced the doctrine, and lost the grace of God out of his heart. Henry Haines, once a good man, full of faith and good fruits, went off with them, and soon after became de- ranged and hung himself. Mody was also among the number of apostates from the faith. He erected a dis- tillery, lost all his beautiful property at Bowling Green, ruined his interesting family, and died a most horrible death. Others, who left in this heresy, became Univer- salists and infidels. Never was that Scripture more clearly fulfilled than in the case of these unfortunate men — "they have chosen their own way and I will choose their delu- sions." It is now more than forty years since this sad heresy prevailed, and its desolating effects are yet to be seen. The history of this one man, intrusted with the care of souls, but who proved faithless, is an illustration of the proverb, "One sinner destroyeth much good." Let all beware how they depart from sound doctrine. The first digression from the old and. beaten path of truth is attended with danger, and no one can tell whither he shalJ 20 234 ATlTOlilOCitiAPHY OF wander, or what will be his end, who departs from the good and the right way. A few years after Thrap and Fleming went off with the Radicals. Pigman, Parks, and Pumphrey, only three out of nine local preachers on the circuit, remained faithful to their high calling. They lived foi many years to preach the Gospel in destitute set- tlements, and do good in every department of the Church for which they were fitted, and having finished the work assigned them, they entered into rest. While the ''mem- ory of the wicked shall rot, the righteous shall be had in everlasting remembrance." Brother Cratzer, the person with whom I boarded, and one of the most devoted of Christians, and talented and useful exhorters, fell into this fatal error and became a New Light preacher. But, alas ! like his deluded compan- ions, he departed from God and reaped the bitter fruits — poverty, sin, and death! The memory of these men should prove as beacons to warn all of the dangerous rocks on which they wrecked their hopes. On this circuit lived old brother Carpenter, whose son Samuel has since become a useful local preacher. Brother Carpenter resided in St. Albans township, and, being in- vited, I went to his house and preached. This was the first sermon ever preached in the township. On Owl creek there lived a Universalist, who like the most of them, was full of controversy; and to hear him talk, one would imagine that he considered himself able to overturn all orthodoxy, and even "wiser than seven men who could render a reason." He always came to our meetings, and invariably pressed me to go home with him. I was considerably annoyed by the fellow, and one day, for the purpose of getting rid of him, agreed to accompany him home. He was a real backwoods hunter, rough and uncouth in his manners. He lived about four miles from the appointment, and we started through the woods, trav- REV. JAMES £. FlttLEY. 235 eling. part of the time, a cow path. When we arrived at his cabin, which was situated in a corn-patch, and only about sixteen feet square, I said to him, "Bill, what shali I do with my horse?" "Tie him to the fence," he re- plied. " Well, but what shall I give him to eat ?" " Feed him with cut up corn," said he. It was too late to retreat, so I went into the cabin, and his wife prepared some veni- son in backwoods fashion, and we partook of our supper. As soon as we had finished our repast, Bill got down his old Bible and said, "Now I have got } r ou, and you will de obliged to argue with me on the subject of religion. 1 nave been waiting for an opportunity for a long time to have a controversy with you." " No," said I, "Bill, you 'jave not a sufficient amount of sense to hold an argument on any religious subject. You brought me here as a Methodist preacher, and I must instruct you and your family ; sc call in all your children and we will have prayers." Notwithstanding all his excuses and pleadings I insisted upon the course I had adopted, and his wife and children were called in, and I read the Scriptures, ex- plained, and applied the truth to all, and then prayed to God for their salvation. I trust the poor wife and chil- dren were benefited, if the redoubtable Bill was not. Af- ter spending a rather unpleasant night in the loft of the cabin, amoni»- the chickens, I arose in the morning, had prayers with the family, and departed. Bill never aftei annoyed me with invitations to go home with him. At the Cincinnati conference, which I have already alluded to, I was appointed to Fairfield circuit. A mis- take in the Minutes represents brother Isaac Quinn as having been appointed to this circuit in chp gc. Brother Quinn was on the Tombigbee circuit with William Houston. These brethren were both elected delegates to the Genera) conference of 1812. They both came up from that con- ference, but did not return. In June brother Quinn came 23(> AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF home sick, with his brother James, and remained till the. next annual conference. This circuit received the name of Fairfield in 1809, and had been traveled the two preceding years by brother Ralph Lotspiech. He was of German descent, born in Virginia, and raised in Tennessee, where he was converted to God and called to preach the Gospel. He was ex- tremely meek and unassuming in all his manners and de- portment, deeply pious, and always wore a serious air. In his discourses he wept much, and from this circum- stance was called, by his brethren, the " weeping prophet.'* His pulpit labors were characterized with close practical application to the consciences of his hearers, and attended with good results wherever he ministered. While travel- ing Deer Creek circuit he was attacked with sickness, which was unto death. Realizing that his work was done, he called his colleague to his bedside, and told him to get a piece of paper and make an inventory of his property. Though he had but little, he felt it his duty to "set his house in order" before he died. The task, which was a short and easy one, being completed, and his assets and liabilities reckoned up, he said, "Well, after paying my debts there will be one hundred dollars left, and that will support my wife and almost helpless children [two of them being twin babes] for one year, and then God will provide. Now," said he to his colleague, "my work is done ; turn me over with my face to the wall." This being done, he commenced singing in soft but sweet and plaintive tones, "Great spoil I shall win From death, hell, and sin; 'Midst outward affliction, Shall feel Chi'ist within. And when I'm to die, Receive me, I'll cry; For Jesus hath loved ir«, REV. JAMES ]?. FINLEY. 237 I can not tell why ; But this I do find, We two are so joined, He'll not live in heaven, And leave me behind." The last strain was finished, and the soul of the "weeping prophet" went out, with his last song, to that bright world where "there is no death, neither sorrow nor cry- ing ; but where God shall wipe the tears from all eyes." How rich must heaven be in pure and sainted spirits, whc have, in the lapse of six thousand years, gone up to people its bright abodes ! This circuit was large, having twenty-five appointments, and I increased the number to thirty-eight before the ex- piration of the year. It extended from the town of Put- nam, on the bank of the Muskingum, opposite Zanesville, ten miles west of Lancaster, and from the head waters of Licking to the falls of the Hockhocking, including ail the settlements on Jonathan's creek and Rush creek. It em- braced parts of five counties; namely, Muskingum, Lick- ing, Fairfield, Perry, and Ross. I traveled round this cir- cuit every four weeks, and formed fifteen new societies. The local preachers were John Goshen, Jesse Stoneman, Park, Newman, Bright, Jesse Spurgeon, and Martin Fate. Spurgeon went off with the party of Methodists organized in Cincinnati by the Rev. William Burke. Stoneman, Park, and Bright lived, labored, and died in the Church. Brothers Goshen and Fate are still living, advanced in years, but laboring on the walls of Zion. Robert Manley, the first missionary to the Mus- kingum, died on this circuit the year before I came, full of faith and the Holy Spirit. Among the more prominent of the old Methodists on this circuit, were Edward Teal, William Hamilton, and Benjamin Smith, the latter being mighty in faith and prayer Robert Cloud also lived within its bounds. The 238 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF strongest societies were on Rush creek, at Hamilton's, Cooper's, Hog Run, and Thomas Ijam's. Many strong men and mothers in Israel had emigrated and settled in these neighborhoods. I never shall foroet the true-hearted Christian kindness and affection with which I was received and treated by the good, simple-hearted class at Hog Run. They took me in when a stranger, and comforted me by their counsel and prayers. It is with no ordinary feelings of affection that I call these brethren to remembrance. Brother Pitzer and family were especially endeared to my heart. He has lon^ since entered into rest, and his widow and children have emigrated to the far west. As I before remarked, I labored alone on this circuit till after the General conference, which was held in May, when brother Isaac Quinn came on, with feeble health, from the south, and, as far as circumstances would permit, labored with me. This year will long be remembered as the one in which this whole region was shaken by a mighty earthquake. On the night of the twelfth of February, I was awakened by the rocking of the house in which I slept. It seemed as if my bedstead was on a rough sea, and the waves were rolling under it, so sensible were the undulations. Slight shocks were, felt almost every day and night for some time. One day, while I was preaching a funeral, the house began to rock and the cupboard doors flew open. The people became alarmed and commenced shrieking and running. It was a time of great terror to sinners. The greatest shock was felt on the sixteenth day of the month. It commenced at ten o'clock and lasted fifteen minutes. I was then in the town of Putnam, opposite to Zancsville, where the Legislature was then in session. It was reported that the steeple of the state-house vibrated some five or six inches, like the pendulum of a clock. Il was a time of the most awful suspense. Consternation REV. AMES B. FINLEY. VoV pat on every countenance, especially upon the wicked, who fled into the streets, clinging one to another, and crying for mercy. In the town of Putnam there lived a sister Gardiner, a woman of great piety, and who was often persecuted for shouting, which she often did, not only at meetings, but at home, while engaged in her daily domestic avocations. On this day, while the houses were rocking and the chimneys falling, as though the dissolu- tion of all things was at hand, sister Gardiner ran out into the street shouting and clapping her hands, exclaim- ing, "Glory, glory, glory to God! My Savior is coming! I am my Lord's and he is mine I" Thus she showed her enemies, who were loudly crying for mercy, that her re- ligion, however much despised, could stand the test of so awful an hour. Although we had some favorable indications, before this event, of a revival, it contributed greatly to increase the interest on the subject of religion. Multitudes who pre- viously paid no attention to the subject of religion, now flocked out to meeting, and the power of God was mani • fested, not only in the earthquake and the fire, but in the still small yet powerful voice. The number of converts was great, and the work extended almost every-where. The most signal manifestation of Divine power was at Rush creek, at the house of David Swazy. The neigh- borhood had been notorious for wickedness, and, especially, for drunkenness. The young people seemed to devote al 1 their time to mirth and revelry; but now, instead of threading the giddy mazes of the dance at the sound of the viol till past the noon of night, the meetings were crowded with anxious souls, and the cry of penitence, which wakes the harps of angels, and the songs of joy frcm happy converts, were the only sounds that broke upon the stillness of the night air. On one occasion I stood upon a table in h new cabin 240 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF and cried out, "For the great day of his wrath is come arid who shall be able to stand?" That night will nevei be forgotten in time or eternity. Many hardened sinners fell, before the power of God, like those slain in battle Many aiso found pardon and salvation in the blood of the Lamb. On my next round, after preaching at this place, I was about to meet the class — a thing which I never neglected — when one of the brethren came to me and said, "Mr. H., the great distiller of whisky, is here with his party, and they have determined to break into class meeting." 1 placed old brother Hooper at the door, and charged him to keep it shut and let no one pass without permission As our meeting progressed the members became happy, and began to sing and shout most lustily. This attracted the attention of old brother Hooper, and he became more interested in the meeting than watchful of the door. In he mean time H. came, lifted the latch, opened the door, and walked in. He had no sooner got in than brother Hooper reclosed the door and stood against it, fearing the others would follow the example of their Jeader. The great champion of whisky and infidelity was how in a hot place, and he seemed to be at a loss to know what to do. I went up to him, and kindly laying my arm around his neck began to recommend to him my loving Savior. At this he became somewhat enraged, but I held on to him and continued to press my entreaties. Presently he began to tremble from head to foot, like an aspen leaf. Still en- couraged, I poured the truth upon him, and his agitation increased, and letting go my hold he screamed out with all his might and fell his whole length upon the floor. At that moment the excitement in the room was intense, and it seemed as if heaven and earth had come together. The noise might have been heard a mile distant. At this point brother Hooper opened the door and cried to those REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 241 outside at the top of his voice, " Glory be to God, H. is down, H. is down I" The rush to the door, of those from without, was such as can not be described. As they came rushing forward they fell upon one another in the door- way, and so completely blocked it up that none could pass either way. The excitement rose to a tremendous hight, and it was impossible to close the meeting. Those who had not fallen under the power of conviction ran to their horses and fled with the greatest precipitancy and conster- nation to their homes. The meeting lasted till sunrise the next morning. Several were converted, and H. joined the Church, though he did not experience a change of heart. Had he given up his distillery he doubtless would have been converted ; but God will not hear those who regard .niquity in their hearts, or hold unrighteousness in tneir hands. He went away, and, as I believe, lived and died a manufacturer of the accursed poison. Some good, how- ever, resulted from his conviction, as it completely cured him of his disposition to annoy and persecute the people of God. Richard M'Mahan, an amiable, talented, and eloquent young preacher, who traveled Knox circuit one year be- fore, died at the house of brother John. Feeling that the vows of God were on him, and he must not stoop to play with earthly flowers, he turned away from all the endearments of home and entered the rugged field of itin- erant life. He bore hardness as a good soldier ; and though the conflict was severe, it was short and glorious. Away from home and kindred, in the wilderness, he yielded up his spirit to God. It was a calm and quiet evening of summer. All nature seemed hushed into still- ness, while in that cottage in the wilderness the youthful herald of the cross was sinking to rest. Already had he passed the land of Beulah, breathing the air and hearing the songs of the celestial city, and now there remained for 16 k 242 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF him nothing but the passage of Jordan. As he neared it the heavenly glory gleamed upon his brow ; and no sooner did his feet touch the waters than an angelic convoy bore him safely home. A^ain and again have I visited the grave of this sainted one. It was in the woods — a lone, sequestered spot, where Solitude herself might have chosen a seat; and yet, to me, no place could have been more favorable to relig- ious meditation. No pen could describe my feelings the first time I visited it alone. The forest cast its deep shade around. Scattered here and there were wild flowers, which, one has said, are the alphabet of angels, whereby they write on hills and plains mysterious truths. Around the grave was placed a rude inclosure. Here I read my Bible on my knees, and prayed, and sang, and often dia ii *eem to me that 1 was quite on the verge of heaven. BEV. .TAMES B. FINLEY 243 CHAPTER XIV. ITINERANT LIFE CONTINUED. As fruits of the revivals this year may be reckoned seven interesting young men, who were subsequently called of God to preach the Gospel — James and Jacob Hooper. Henry, Samuel, and Job Baker, Samuel Hamilton, and Cornelius Springer. They all entered the traveling con- nection, and labored with zeal and success for many years. The latter, however, went off in the Radical secession, and became the editor of a paper which was adopted as the organ of Radicalism for the west. This sheet con- tained many bitter things against the government of the Methodist Episcopal Church, representing it as an oligar- chy, and the bishops, presiding elders, and preachers as sc many tyrants, lording it over God's heritage. The tran- sition from schism .o railing is easily made, and he, unfor- tunately for himself and many others who left the Church, which had taken them from obscurity and nursed them into character and importance, lost sight of their voca- tion of calling sinners to repentance and feeding the flock over which they were placed as shepherds, and spent their time and exhausted their talents in laboring to break uown the fold from which they had escaped. I shall not, however, bring against them any railing accusations; "to their own Master they stand or fall." Many of them were doubtless sincere, good men , but they were wonder- fully misled by a few disappointed, and, consequently, dis- affected leaders. Samuel Baker closed his earthly labors m. great peace, 24.4 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP and entered into rest. Job Baker located, studied medi cine, and went south. Since then I have not heard any thing concerning his history. Jacob Hooper traveled vari- ous circuits till his health failed, when he located, and con- tinued, as far as circumstances would allow, to labor in the vineyard of his Lord. He yet lives, I believe, a good man and faithful minister. James Hooper still remains effective, and there is, perhaps, no traveling preacner in the connection who is more devoted to the missionary and Sabbath school cause, the latter particularly claiming his most earnest and faithful attention. Samuel Hamilton, till within a few years, has been a most laborious and efficient traveling preacher. P'or many years he served the Church as a presiding elder. Few sons in the Gospel have lived to graduate among the fathers with more fidel- ity or honor. Though now worn down with toil and halt- ing to the tomb, he is calmly and patiently waiting the call of his Master to enter into rest. May his setting " Sun in smiles decline, And bring a pleasing night !" Henry Baker also lost his health or: the rough and toil- some field of itinerant life. It seemed to him that his mission was at an end, and following the leadings of Prov- idence, he commenced the study of medicine, which he prosecuted with vigor and success. In due time he was admitted to practice, and by dint of application and skill rose t© eminence in his profession. He became the favor- ite physician of some of our older bishops. After prac- ticing medicine for several years and his health being somewhat restored, he felt the returning fires of itiner- ancy glowing within his heart, and he accordingly re- entered the traveling connection, where he remains to this day, a sound doctrinal and practical divine. So extensive and powerful was the revival on this cir- cuit, t)iat in the short space of three months three hup REV. JAMES fc. FtttLEY. 245 dred souis were converted and brought into the Church. I have in my journal all their names, together with the classes with which they were connected, and the date of their joining. A great majority of these ran well in the Christian course, held out to the end, and received the victor's crown; some, however, turned back to "the beggarly elements of the world," and thus brought a reproach on the goodly cause. This year I commenced preaching at Mr. John Dillon's iron-works, on Licking, about six miles from Zanesville. Mr. Dillon was a member of the society of Friends, or Quakers, and strongly attached to that denomination. He had married a lady in Baltimore who was a Methodist; but the influence of the husband, as, alas ! it too often proves, so far as the Methodist Church is concerned, over- came her denominational attachments, and she joined the Quakers. Some years afterward, however, by way of re- prisal, they were both taken in the Methodist net. Brother Dillon has been for many years an acceptable and useful class-leader in the Church. During his life he has been extensively engaged in commerce and manufactures. He is a man of talent and enterprise. His indomitable energy and perseverance have enabled him to breast reverses in fortune and business, under which thousands would have been irretrievably ruined. The town of Zanesville, where he lived for many years in a beautiful mansion on the bank of the Muskingum, the home of hospitality and kindness, is indebted to him for much of its prosperity. He took a lively interest in whatever pertained to agricul- ture and was calculated to develop the resources of the country, as his official acts in the agricultural board of that county will show. He was also a warm friend of temperance and the cause of colonization. Deeply de- voted to the Church, he has ever been ready to advauce her institutions. Mrs. Dillon, his partner, several years 2i6 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF since entered into rest. She could always bo distin- guished in the Church, even in the latter day of Method- ist refinement, by her neat but rich Quaker dress. She was a lady of education and refinement, and ardently attached to the Church ; and though called, from her posi- tion in life, to mingle with the first class, yet never was ashamed of the humble society to which she belonged. Her parlors were always open to prayer and class meet- ings. Every member of the family embraced religion at one time and another during life, and joined the Church. Four of the children have died; namely, Keziah, Lloyd, Margaret, and Elizabeth. They all, I believe, died in the full assurance of faith, and in the hope of a glorious im- mortality. The sufferings of Lloyd were protracted and severe ; but he bore them with the most exemplary pa- tience and fortitude to the last, frequently rejoicing in hope of the glory of God. Margaret — the gifted and accomplished Margaret — who early gave her heart to God and consecrated herself devotedly and exclusively to his service, like one of earth's choicest flowers, too bright and beautiful to last, was also called to join the company of the early dead in that better land. She was smitten before her life had reached its prime, and, sanctified by suffering, ripened for heaven. That the loving in life in death might not be divided, her younger sister soon fol lowed her to the brighter mansions above. May all the members of this household form an unbroken family in heaven ! Two of the sons are traveling preachers — the elder a member of the Ohio conference, and the younger a nrssionary on the shores of the distant Pacific. But to resume my narrative. At Dillon's iron-works there were many who were grossly addicted to habits of intoxication. My first appointment was at Mr. Dick's tavern, and the prospect was any thing but encouraging. While 1 was trying to preach many were engaged in REV. JAMES B. FIXLEY. 2*17 drinking and swearing. On reproving them for their con- duct, one fellow turned round, with his glass in hand and a leering look, and said, "You go on with your business of preaching and we will mind ours." However, the Lord can work and none can hinder; and notwithstanding the unpropitious circumstances, one of those miserable men was awakened,* and, seeking, found religion. I formed a class consisting of John and Jacob Hooper, J. Dittenhiffer, the new convert, brother Cooper and wife, and Samuel Gassaway, a colored man. These were all in the employ of Mr. Dillon, at the furnace. At one time I went down to the furnace, and, standing on a large salt kettle, deliv- ered a temperance speech. After I was through, I took a vote and voted all kinds of intoxicating drinks out of and from around the furnace, and pledged them to keep them out forever. I then went to work and got up a subscrip- tion to build a hewed log meeting-house. Mr. Dillon gave a lot of ground, and I raised enough, in one morning, to pay for the building. In a short time the timbers were all upon the ground and preparations were being made for a raising. At this stage of progress, Bishop M'Kendree came along on .his western "tour, and we solicited him to preach the dedication sermon. This, of course, was alto- gether anticipatory, as the corner-stone had not yet been laid. At that time, however, we were not such sticklers for order, and so our venerable Bishop took his stand upon the rock on which the church was to be built, and preached a most powerful sermon from that memorable text, "On this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hell 6hall not prevail against it." It was a soul-refreshing season, and many were awakened and converted to God, while the hearts of believers were greatly blessed. In progress of time this house was finished, and remained a place for divine worship for many years. Subsequent!? it was taken dowr. and removed about one mile distant, 24S AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF where it was re erected and continued as a temple of grace That humble edifice remains to this day, and its walls sti? echo the sound of thanksgiving and the voice of praise. In this neighborhood a gracious work of God was carried on, and another broke out a few miles distant under the labors of a local brother — Rev. John Goshen. The place had been proverbial for wickedness and opposition to god- liness. This laborer in the vineyard sought out this field of wickedness, and took it into his work. He continued to labor, and weep, and pray over the devoted inhabitants till the Lord heard and revealed his arm of power. The devil's kingdom was terribly shaken by the conversion of the great champion of wickedness, Mr. Savage. The practices of drunkenness and gambling ceased, and fear and trembling came upon the most vile and hardened sin- ners, and many were brought to realize that Christ had power on earth to forgive sins. These two revivals, like fires in a prairie, continued spreading till they met, and the reformation was truly great and glorious. One of the greatest, if not, indeed, the greatest, sources of wickedness and misery resulted from the manufacture, sale, and use of intoxicating liquor ; and the evil, lamentable to be told, existed in the Church as well as elsewhere. Ardent spir- its were used as a preventive of disease. It was also regarded as a necessary beverage. A house could not be raised, a field of wheat cut down, nor could there be a log rolling, a husking, a quilting, a wedding, or a funeral without the aid of alcohol. In this state of things there was great laxity on the subject of drinking, and the min- isters as well as the members of some denominations im- bibed pretty freely. The only temperance society that then existed, and, consequently, the only standard raised against the overflowing scourge of intemperance, was the Methodist Church. The General Rules of the society pro- hibited the use of intoxicating drinks as a beverage, and REV. JAMES fc. FlNLLr. 249 only allowed their use when prescribed as a medicine by a physician. No other denomination having prohibited the use of ardent spirits as a beverage, it followed, as a nec- essary consequence, that all persons who refused to drink were called, by way of reproach, Methodist fanatics. But few came out publicly against this monster evil, and manu- facturers, venders, and users were out against the Church. I often met with opposition for my advocacy of the cause of temperance. On my first round I was taken into a room at one of my stopping-places, where there was a ten gallon keg. I asked my host, who was said to be a pious inan, what the keg contained, and he replied that it was whisky, and that he had procured it for the purpose of raising a barn with it. I asked him if he did not know that this drink was the -worst enemy of man, and that it might occasion the death of some person, and be the cause of a great deal of swearing, and, perhaps, fighting. I further asked him, if he did not know that God had pro- nounced a ourse against the man who putteth the bottle to his neighbor's mouth and maketh him drunken. At this he became excited and angrily said, "There is no law against using whisky, and I'll do as I please." "Very well," said I, "it is a poor rule that won't work both ways. If you do as you please, I will do as I please ; and unless you take that keg out of this room I will leave the house, for I would rather lie out in the woods than to sleep in a Methodist house with a ten-gallon keg of whisky for my room-mate." I furthermore said, "Now, sir, if any thing transpires at your barn-raising of an immoral nature, through the use of that infernal stuff, I will turn you out of the Church." He refused to move the keg, and I took my horse and went to another place. At my appointment, the next day, I took occasion to preach against the use of ardent spirits in any form, except prescribed by a physiciai . As soon 250 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF as I was done, an old exhorter came up to me and said, in a fierce and angry tone, "Young man, I advise you to leave the circuit and go home, for you are doing more harm than good; and if you can't preach the Gospel and let people's private business alone, they do not want you at all." I replied, "I will not go home; and I have a mission from God to break up this strong-hold of the devil. By his help I will do it, despite of all distillers and aiders and abettors in the Church." Those of my brethren who were alive to God stood by me, and I drew the sword and threw away the scabbard, resolving to give no quarters and to ask no quarters in this war of extermination. An old and respectable Methodist, who had been in the habit of taking his morning dram for years, and who kept his bottle locked up in his trunk, came to reprove me, stating that he was in the habit of drinking, and had been so for years, and he was not aware that he was any the worse for it. I told him it was a great mercy that he had not become a drunkard, for I had never known a man who was in the habit of drinking reg ularly that did not become a drunkard. He said that he had a constant headache, and was obliged to use stimu- lants for it. I told him it was that very thing which gave him the headache ; and if he would follow my advice and quit the use of whisky and tea till I came round again, which would be four weeks, and he was not cured of head- ache; then I would submit to his using such stimulants. The old gentleman made a pledge and kept it, and when I came round, before I arrived at the house he came out and told me he was well, having had no pain in his head for the last two weeks. He became a thorough-going temperance man, and proved a valuable auxiliary to the caus<: . Encouraged in my efforts to promote the cause of temperance, I suffered no opportunity to pass that I did HEV. JAMES B. FIN LEY. 25 1 not improve in portraying the physical, social, and moral evils resulting from intemperance. I dwelt particularly upon its sad and ruinous effects in a religious point of view, and made strong appeals to the religion and patriot- ism of my congregation. Frequently I would pledge whole congregations, standing upon their feet, to the tem- perance cause; and during my rounds I am certain the better portion of the entire community became the friends and advocates of temperance, and on this circuit alone, at least one thousand had solemnly taken the pledge of total abstinence. This* was before temperance societies were heard of in this country. It was simply the carrying oui of the Methodist Discipline on the subject. My efforts, as a matter of course, awakened the ire and indignation of the makers and venders of the ardent, and their curses were heaped on me in profusion. They would gladly have driven me from the country if they could, but this was beyond their power. One of the greatest distillers in the land said I was worse than a robber, as I had prevented him from selling whisky to the harvesters, and his family was likely to suffer. The craven-hearted wretch did not think of the broken-hearted wives and bewared children his distillery had made. This distiller had a field of grain to cut, and he invited all his neighbors to help him. They came at the appointed time. Before the company com- menced reaping he offered the bottle to the leader, and then to all the rest, but no one touched, tasted, or han- dled the accursed thing. After they had reaped the first through, he tried them all again, and with many entreat- ies besought them to drink, but they still persisted in refusing. At this he became* angry, and swore that they should all leave the field; for if they would not drink his whisky they should not cut his grain. They paid no attention to him, but went on reaping; whereupon he or- dered them out of his field, and swore he would prosecute 252 AtrTOftlOGftAFHY OF the first man who dared to trespass by cutting anothet inch of his grain. Still they kept on reaping, and ae went off with his bottle, swearing vengeance. His friends fin- ished the field, shocked up the grain, and went home. This circumstance gave a fatal blow to whisky in thai neighborhood at that time and for years afterward. God at last caused victory to turn upon the side of temperance, and the Church was delivered from the deadly evil. This year a camp meeting was held at the Rushvillo camp-ground. At this meeting we were blessed with the presence of both of our beloved Superintendents — Asbury and M'Kendree. A row was raised, on Saturday, by about twenty lewd fellows of the baser sort, who came upon the ground intoxicated, and had vowed they would break up the meeting. One of the preachers went to the leader for the purpose of getting him to leave, but this only enraged him, and he struck the preacher a violent blow on the face and knocked him down. Here the con- flict began. The members saw that they must either de- fend themselves or allow the ruffians to beat them and insult their wives and daughters. It did not take them long to decide. They very soon placed themselves in an attitude of defense. Brother Birkhammer, an exceedingly stout man, seized their bully leader, who had struck the preacher, and with one thrust of his brawny arm crushed him down between two benches. The aiddecamp of the bully ran to his relief, but it was to meet the same fate ; for no sooner did he come in reach of the Methodist than, with crushing force, he felt himself ground on the back of his comrade, in distress. Here they were held in durance vile till the sheriff and his posse came and took possession, and binding them, with ten others, they were carried before a justice, who fined them heavily for the misdemeanor. As soon as quiet was restored, Bishop Asbury occupied HEV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 253 the pulpit. After singing and prayer, he rose and said he would give the rowdies some advice. "You must remem- ber that all our brothers in the Church are not yet sancti- fied, and I advise you to let them alone ; for if you get them angry and the devil should get in them, they are the strongest and hardest men to fight and conquer in the world. I advise you, if you do not like them, to go home and let them alone." The work of the Lord commenced at this point, and meetings were kept up without intermission till Tuesday morning. Upward of one hundred were converted to God and joined the Church. Many more gave in their aames, and they were handed over to the leaders, to be presented to the next preacher who should come upon the circuit. At the close of the camp meeting we left for con- ference, which was held in Chilicothe, October 17, 1812. This year there was an increase in the membership of the western conferences, of three thousand, three hundred and sixty-two whites, and one hundred and eighty-one colored — making a total of three thousand, five hundred and forty-three. The number in the whole connection amounted to ten thousand, seven hundred and ninety. Twenty-three preachers were admitted on trial into the traveling connection. An incident occurred at this conference which I shall never forget, and I think some of my brethren will bear equally lively recollections. Bishop Asbury said to the preachers, "Brethren, if any of you have any thing pecu- liar in your circumstances that should be known to the Superintendent, in making your appointment, if you will drop me a note, I will, as far as will be compatible with the great interests of the Church, endeavor to accommo- date you." I had a great desire to go west, because 1 had relatives which called me in that direction, and it would be more pleasant to be with them ; so I sat down V54 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF and addressed a very polite note to the Bishop, requesting him to send me west. My request, however, was not granted; for when the appointments were read out, instead of hearing my name announced in connection with some western appointment, 1 was sent one hundred miles further east. To this, how- ever, I responded amen, and after the adjournment of conference I said to the Bishop, "If that is the way you answer prayers, I think you will get no more prayers from me." "Well," said he, smiling and stroking my head, "be a good son in the Gospel, James, and all things will work together for good." I have found that those who are the most in the habit of praying for appointments, are those who are generally most disappointed; for if their prayers were answered, it would be against the prayers of whole Churches, who pray to be delivered from them. At the General conference, which was held in May, 1812, the old Western conference was divided into Ohio and Tennessee, and parts of Kentucky belonged to each conference. It was the last time that many hearts, which were united as David and Jonathan, were to meet in con- ference together, and great sorrow was felt at parting. When the hour came we united in singing the hymn, "Blest be the dear, uniting love, Which will not let us part; Our bodies may far off remove, We still are one in heart." Then taking the parting hand, we took a hearty, warm farewell, inspired with hope that when the toils of life were over, we should meet a^ain in the communings of that better world. The name of my circuit was West Wheeling, in the Ohio district. Jacob Young was appointed presiding elder of the district. St. Clairsville, the capital of Belmoni county, was the center and metropolis of my circuit. The REV. JAMES B. FIN LEY. 855 number of members returned was four hundred and sixty- two ; but this number was ascertained on the principle of guessing — a Yankee mode of computation that don't ex- actly suit western mathematics. The careless manner by which the preacher in charge too frequently arrives at the numbers in society, can rot be too severely censured. My custom, on the first round, was to get all the class-books, and in the presence of the leaders take down all the names in my memorandum, kept for that purpose, and when any were removed, expelled, or had died, I would mark my book accordingly. Thus, without recourse to the class- books, at the end of the year, I could tell exactly the numbers in society. I removed my family to St. Clairsville. The society here had many pious people in it, though some were in a backslidden state. At one of my appointments there lived a very pious sister, who had been raised a Roman Catho- lic, but had been converted and lived in the enjoyment of religion. She could not read a word, and had never seen a Bible, as she had been taught it was an extremely dan- gerous book, and not to be read or touched. This sincere, simple-hearted woman went to confession, and, as she supposed, received the pardon of her sins by priestly ab- solution. She was happy in the belief that her father confessor would open to her the gates of heaven; that as he had the keys of St. Peter he could open or shut hewen at his pleasure; that whosoever he blessed was blessed, and whosoever he cursed was cursed. This poor woman said she feared the priest more than she did God. Being called at one time to mourn the loss of a beloved child, her grief became extreme, and she found no rest day or ni"-ht. She imagined that God had taken her child as a punishment for her wickedness. She prayed with great earnestness to the Virgin Mary and other saints. She also subjected herself to the severest penance, and said 256 AUTOBioGRArn r of over hir ave Marias. Her dreadful state of mind con tinued, so that she neither ate nor slept, and fears were entertained that she would become deranged. *\t length she concluded to pray to God to help her. For the pur- pose of praying to God she ascended the side of a mount- ain, and there, far from human vision, she fell on her knees and poured out her heart in prayer to God. Her language was, "0 God, have pity on a wretch like me!" She repeated this petition for some time, and was about to abandon herself to despair, when she saw, as she described it, a dark and heavy cloud, which had rested upon her, pass away, and she was surrounded with a glorious light. All her distress left her, and the anguish of her heart was turned into joy. She thought she must die, so much was she burdened with excessive happiness. After a while she returned home and continued happy all day and all night. The next day, while sitting at her wheel spinning, Satan tempted her and darkness again surrounded her. In this state of mind she fled again to God in prayer, and was happily delivered from the snare of the devil. Hearing of a Methodist meeting in the neighborhood, she went, and there, for the first time, did she hear the Gospel preached and salvation by faith in Jesus pro- claimed. Then she beheld the glory of God as it shone in the face of Jesus Christ. Soon after this she joined the Church, and ever after remained one of the most con- sistent and happy Christians. She was poor, in regard to things of this world, but rich in faith and spiritual enjoy- ments. Once while my colleague and self were talking in her house of the goodness of God and the comforts we enjoyed, she let the stick, with which she was stirring the mush, fall into the fire, and startled us with a loud shout of glory. I was alarmed at this sudden outcry, and sup posed sister E. was scalded, but in a moment I understood all perfectly plain. She continued praising God t'll near REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 257 midnight. She would often shout on her horse, letting go the reins and clapping her hands. Once she attended a popular meeting of another denomination. The rain obliged all persons present to crowd into one room. The preacher was eloquent in discoursing about Jesus and his love, in dying for our guilty race. As his heart warmed with the theme, sister E. caught the fire, and being unable to suppress her emotions, she shouted aloud the praises of God. This greatly alarmed the preacher and disturbed the whole congregation, and the old lady was carried out. A.s it was still raining she was put into an empty corn- crib, where she walked about shouting and singing — "No changes of season or place, Would make any change in my mind ; For prisons would palaces prove, If Jesus would dwell with me there." In this neighborhood the Lord commenced a great and glorious work, and many souls were converted. There were also revivals at G. B.'s, on M'Mahon's creek, "at A. Scott's, on Wheeling creek, on Pipe creek, and in Dilley's Bottom. At all these places there were many manifest evidences of the power of grace in renewing the heart. About this time there flourished in this section of the country a halcyon preacher by the name of Abel Sargent. He formerly resided near Morgantown, Virginia, and was a Universalis preacher; but receiving a new revelation, in which he said he held converse with angels, and he was made the medium of communication to the world. His doctrines did not differ very materially from the Univcr- salist creed, except that he taught the annihilation of (he wicked. The regenerated soul, he taught, was a part of God; and when the body died there was a resorption of the soul into God. He did not believe in any devil, in a place of future torment, nor in a judgment. He went about the country with his twelve apostles, mostly women, 17 258 A U TOJJIOGEAPHT OF preaching and pretending to raise the dead. One of his followers, in the bounds of my circuit, declared that he could fast lis long as the Savior did — forty days and forty nights. This, he said, he was enabled to do, because the divinity was in him. To prove it he commenced the work of fasting, and persisted in abstaining from food for sixteen days, when he died. The halcyon declared that he would resuscitate himself after three days, and they kept his body till decomposition had progressed so far that they were compelled to bury it out of their sight. This, like all other species of fanaticism and superstition, had its day and produced some excitement on the circuit, but nothing that resulted very disastrously to the cause of religion. This year the war spirit unfortunately entered into many professors of religion, and as soon as they caught it they began to lose their religion. Many that once walked with us to the house of God and took delight in the serv- ices of religion, now marched off in rank and file to be- come disciplined in the arts of war. Several, who had been saved from drunkenness by the Church, returned to their evil habits as "the dog returns to his vomit, and the sow, that was washed, to her wallowing in the mire." Wars and rumors of wars are peculiarly fatal to the mild and peaceful spirit of the Gospel ; and when the Prince of peace shall obtain his dominions, "swords shall be beaten into plowshares and spears into pruning-hooks, and nations shall learn war no more." The local preachers on this circuit were Vachel Hall, James Starr, Amos Sparks, David £f 'Masters, and Archi- bald M'Elroy. One of these, brother M'Masters, went off in the Radical secession, though he was a good man. Like many others, he was led astray by designing men. lie died soon after joining the Radical Church, and has, no doubt, entered into rest. Brother M'Elroy entered the REV. JAMES B. FIN LEY. 259 traveling connection. He was an Irishman, and came tc this country at an early day. He was one of the most zealous and devoted in all the itinerant ranks. He seemed to have had a peculiar aversion to Calvinism, and scarcelv ever failed, in his discourses, to present some of its most odious features to the attention of his audience. He would denounce the heaviest terrors of the law upon the doomed head of the sinner, and was regarded, in his day, as one of, Sinai's thunderers. He was a faithful and effi- cient Methodist preacher, and died in his work. One of the best class-leaders I ever saw, lived on this circuit. His name was M'Coy. Classes too frequently lead the leader; not so, however, with M'Coy's; he al- ways led and governed his class. M'Coy was converted in Ireland, under the labors of Wesley, when but a boy. His master, to whom he was apprenticed, being a Roman Catholic, would lock him out at night while absent at class meeting. Ofien has he slept all night in the cow- house. I never met with a man in all my life who was so deeply experienced in the things of God, and he had the only methodized class that ever I became acquainted with. He would take no frivolous excuse for neglect of class, and there were no gaddings about on Sabbath among his members; no going to soirees of fashion and pleasure He allowed no family to live without prayer. No one who neglected the communion, or indulged in the use of intox- icating drinks, could remain in his class without reforma- tion. All the rules of Discipline were carried out in his class. j No steward or preacher was allowed to say a word to his class on the subject of money. All the steward had to do was to let him know how much his class had to pay, and at the quarterly meeting it was promptly handed over to the board. None in the class were allowed tc say, "I am too poor to pay any thing.*' On one occasion, as 1 »as passing along, I overtook Jane Craig, a poor old Irish 260 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF woman, who was on her way to town to sell some sewing thread. I said to her, "Aunt Jane, where are you going on foot?" "Going to sell this thread to get quarterage. " "But you are too poor and too old to pay quarterage." "Bless God for poverty. I have none of the world, and there is nothing to take my mind off of Jesus, my blessed Savior. I should feel very unhappy and ungrate- ful if I did not give something to help on the cause of my blessed Master. My good leader tells us that without faith it is impossible to be saved, and this faith must be active and fruitful ; for a dead faith is worth nothing either for time or eternity, and in the day of judgment our faith will be proven by its fruits. The happiest day 1 have, is when I am trying to earn something for the sup- port of the Gospel. " She would not receive her quarter- age as a gift from another, but resolved that it should be the product of her own hands. The conduct of this wo- man ought to shame many members of the Church. She did not belong to that class of Methodists who thank God that their religion costs them nothing. This was a year of great spiritual benefit to me. Our quarterly meetings were occasions of great power, and multitudes of all denominations, sects, and conditions would come out to preaching. Once at a meeting of this description, when the house was crowded and the power uf God was divinely manifested, I was called on by brother Young to exhort. Being much blessed, I suppose I raised my voice to its highest pitch and struck the book-board with my hand. At this a young lawyer — Charles Ham- mond — who had a considerable reputation for talents, be- came alarmed, and, urging his way through the crowd to the door, fled for his life. . On my next round the sexton found in the pulpit a very neatly-turned maul with a slip uf paoer wrapped around the handle, which was directed REV. JAMES B. FINLEY/. 2H to mc , After meeting it was presented, and on the papei were the following verses : "Thus saith the Lord, the preacher now Must warn the people all, • And if you can not make them hear, I'd have you use this maul. Your hand, dear sir, is far too soft To hatter on the wood ; Just take this maul, it is but small, * And thunder on the board. Lift up your voice and loudly call On sinners all around, And if you can not make them hear, Take up this maul and pound." 262 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF CHAPTER XV. ITINERANT LIFE CONTINUED. Ar the conference held at Steubenville, September 1, 1813, Barnesville and West Wheeling circuits were united. I had for my colleague the aged and venerable minister, Michael Ellis. It was a full six weeks' circuit; and, as father Ellis lived in the bounds of the West Wheeling part of the circuit, I removed my family to Barnesville. This end of the circuit was new ; and that part of it which lay between Barnesville and Marietta was a wilderness with- out roads, settled principally by hunters. I took this part of the work, as I considered it too hard for my colleague. During the year we had revivals in many places, and were much encouraged to labor in the vineyard of the Lord. The local brethren were at their posts, filling the Sabbath appointments, and assisting at our revivals like men of God baptized for the work. An incident occurred on one of my excursions in the wilderness part of my circuit, which I will relate. I was traveling along a solitary path through the woods, and all at once I came upon an old man of the most giotesque appearance, trudging along at a slow rate, half bent, with an ax and two broomsticks on his shoulder. As I ap- proached him I said, "Well, grandfather, how do you do?" He was a German, and replied, "It ish wall." "You have too much of a load to carry." "Yes, but I can go not often." "Where do you live, old friend?" REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 263 "Shust dare," pointing to a small cabin on the hill-side. ''You seem to be poor, as well as old." "0 yes, in dis vorld I has noting; but in de oder vorld i has a kingdom." "Do you knew any thing about that kingdom?" "0 yes." "Do you love God?" "Yes, mid all ray heart, and God love me." v "How long a time have you been loving God?" "Dis fifty years." "Do you belong to any Church?" "0 yes, I bese a Metodist." "Where did you join the Methodists?" "I jine de Metodist in Maryland, under -dat grate man of Got, Strawbridge, on Pipe creek, and my vife too; and Got has been my father and my friend ever since ; and I bless Got I will soon get home to see him in de him- els." By this time I felt my heart burn within me ; and, hav- ing arrived at the Bethel, I stopped, and went in. His wife, who was also quite aged, was sitting by her wheei, spinning tow. I told them I was a Methodist preacher, and was more than happy to meet with them. There was but one. little chair in the cabin; but, though destitute of furniture, every thing I saw looked neat and clean. I inquired into their history, and learned that they once owned property in Maryland ; but they sold it, and came out west, for the purpose of benefiting their son. They bought a tract of land containing fifty acres, and im- proved it so they could live comfortably. In the mean time their son grew up, and became restless and uneasy ; wished to leave home, and make his fortune elsewdiere. To quiet him the old people made him a title to the farm, and took his obligations to maintain them as long as they lived. In a short time, however, the unnatural son sold '264 AUT0B10GKAPHY OF the land, took the money, and left for the we&t; since which time they have never heard of him. Being obliged to leave their home, they went into the woods, built their little cabin 0.1 Congress land, and obtained a livelihood ay making brooms and baskets. They had a~i old Bible, well-worn, and a hymn-book, which bore similar marks of use Here, in this cabin alone, they held their meetings; class meeting on the Sabbath, and prayer meetings morn- ing, noon, and night. They had rich enjoyment. They talked about religion, as if they had been the inhabitants of the heavenly Canaan. We sang and prayed together; and such a meeting I had not enjoyed for years. I real- ized, in my very heart, that I would not have exchanged their lonely little cabin for the most sumptuous palace on earth, without God. It was distressing to look at their apparel, and yet their faces were radiant in the midst of their rags. I took down my saddle-bags, and gave the old seivant of God all the wardrobe I had with me, and then, with many blessings, bade these happy saints adieu. When I arrived home I reported the case to the brethren and sisters of Barnesville, and they went to work, and made up two horse-loads of clothing, meal, and meat, and dispatched it to them. what a lesson I learned from this Simeon and Anna ! their humility, patience, entire and happy resignation to the providence of Godl Thus they lived happy in God while they lived; and after a few years, they went rejoicing home to heaven. On this circuit there lived a man by the name of D., whc had led the daring and adventurous life of a back- woods hunter without God, and consequently without hope in the world. He was drafted, in the war of 1812, to go on a tour of duty at a block-house on one of our western stations. This was a frontier station, and Indians were all around them. One morning he arose, and, with some of his companions in arms, he cautiously opened the REV. JAMES B. PINLEY. 265 door, and they went down to a spring for the purpose of performing their morning ablutions. Just as they arrived at the spring they were fired upon by Indians, and two of their number fell dead in their tracks.- D. wheeled instantly, and saw the Indians rushing from their covert to intercept the path, and cut off retreat to the block- house. At the same time he saw two Indians draw up their guns to shoot him. His only hope of life consisted in running to the block-house, and instantly he sped with the most desperate fleetness;' He reached the door, and threw himself his whole length into it, to escape, if pos- sible, the balls of the enemy. Just as he fell, they fired, and one of the balls passed through his leg. Those in the house caught him, and pulled him in, shutting the door with much difficulty before the Indians arrived. The battle now began ; but, as there were four or five In- dians to one white man, it was necessary to use great pre- caution. They were well protected, as the house was closely notched down, and well chincked. Several In- dians were shot through the port-holes. During the bat- tle D. lay wounded and bleeding near the wall While there he saw an Indian trying to push in the chincking with the muzzle of his gun, so that he might shoot him ; but he placed his well foot against it, and kept it in its llace. At that moment he saw T how near he was to eter- nity, and then rushed upon him, like a mountain torrent, his sins. While overwhelmed with a sense of his guilt he saw also the goodness of God, in preserving his life in the terrible events of that day. While he lay there he vowed to God, if he would spare him he would renounce all his sins, and lead a religious life the remainder of his days. This promise he kept faithfully ; for, after return- ing home, he joined the Church, obtained religion, and ever afterward lived a consistent and useful life. During this year there was a great revival of religion 266 AUTOBIOGRAPHY CF on Duck creek. The people were poor, but contented and happy, and enjoyed religion in all its simplicity and power. Men in the winter came to meeting with then moccasins and hunting-shirts, and women with their lin- sey-woolsey gowns, and bareheaded; and in summer, barefooted. how they could pray, and sing, and shout ! Early in the spring my colleague resolved on visiting this part of the work, and having obtained a guide 1 yielded to his wishes. In the morning we took breakfast together, and I said to him, "Father Ellis, you had better eat hearty, for you are going into a wilderness, where your fare will be backwoods indeed, perhaps coons or opos- sums." "My dear brother," said he, "I can not eat dogs or cats." The first house he arrived at was brother Dye's, who had, that morning, killed a bear and two cubs. As they were lying in the yard, father Ellis walked around them, and dryly said, "They have the very foot of a negro, and the tusks of a dog." The old gentleman had a gracious meeting with the brethren in the wilder- ness ; and when he returned, he said they were the happi- est and most simple-hearted people he had ever seen. The year was one of great prosperity. Multitudes were taken into the Church. Notwithstanding the pros- perity on some of the circuits, there was only an increase, in the district, of about two hundred; and in the whole connection the increase was only thirty-six. The previous year there had been a decrease of three thousand. Thia great decrease in the membership was attributed to the war. This excitement, all-pervading and demoralizing as it was, operated disastrously to religion. Nor could it be otherwise. A spirit so directly averse to the spirit of the Gospel — which breathes peace on earth, and good- will to man — if allowed to take possession of the Church, would eat out all godliness. A camp meeting was held this year, near to the plac* EEV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 2C7 irhore Fairview now stands. At this meeting many were converted. On Sabbath afternoon it seemed as if the windows of heaven were opened, and there was a revival of pentecostal times. The shouts of saints and the cries of sinners were mingled together, and went up to heaven Here we had our trials and conflicts, as well as our tri- umphs. A son of Belial and a few of his associates, instigated by Satan, went into the pulpit, and commenced abusing the preachers and members. They were invited down by one of the preachers, whereupon the leader drew a pistol, and aimed it at him, and was about firing, when a friend, who was standing close by, suddenly threw open the pan of the lock, and then, seizing the bully by the shirt-collar, threw him on his back, and dragged him, reluctantly, into the preacher's tent, where he was dis- armed, and a magistrate sent for. The party, seeing how it fared with their leader, were suddenly taken with a leaving; and when the prisoner called upon his faithless allies, to go his security, they were all missing. At this he commenced weeping, and praying, and pleading. He said, if it were himself only that was to suffer, he would not care. "But that it should break my mother's heart, is more than I can stand. Pity my poor mother, for God's sake," said he. On condition that he would never disturb a congregation again, he was released, and soon he left the encampment; and there were no more disturb- ances after that. Father Ellis and myself closed our labors on this circuit, w r ith the consoling reflection that we had not labored in vain; but that souls had been con- verted, and the borders of Zion enlarged. We were also comforted in the assurance that the Church had grown in grace and spiritual knowledge. We w T ound up our circuit abors, made the necessary preparation, and started for conference, which was to be held in Cincinnati, September 8, 1814. AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF This year I was appointed to Cross Creek circuit, taA had for my colleague the Rev. Archibald M'Elroy, 01 whom I have already spoken. Our circuit included the towns of Steubenville, Cadiz, Mount Pleasant, Smithfield. and several other villages, embracing all the country in Jefferson, part of Harrison, and Belmont counties. It took four full weeks to travel round it, with an appoint- ment for every day and two for the Sabbath. The mem- bership was large, amounting to nearly one thousand. We had to preach thirty- two times every round, and meet fifty classes. Thus, it will be seen that we had no time for "visits, modes, and forms," to attend parties of pleas- ure, loaf around stores, offices, and shops, read newspa- pers and chat about farms, horses, hogs, and cattle, or the politics and the various speculations of the day. My col- league was a stout-built, hale, and hearty Irishman, of fine native talents, a zealous and fearless, outspoken Chris- tian minister. He was frank in his manners, blunt and honest in all his demeanor. He called things by theii proper names, was shrewd in argument, and always ready to make war on the enemy in every shape. We met soon after conference and arranged our work, resolving to enter upon it, trusting in Him who hath said, "Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world." At our first quarterly meeting, at which brother Young was pres- ent, we had a refreshing time from the presence of the Lord. The meeting closed on Monday, and all went home under the injunctions of a solemn covenant to live and labor for the salvation of souls. I met all the classes, made new papers, changed negligent and unprofitable leaders, appointed prayer meetings, waked up the local preachers and exhorters, and started every thing to work. As might be expected, the hit birds began to flutter, and there was a considerable of religious gossip among a cer- tain class. Some scolded, others cried tyranny, oppres- REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 269 sion, etc. Brother M'Elroy joined heartily with me, and all the pious members were cheered at the prospect of a return to discipline again. The next round the leaders' meetings were held and the delinquents reported, and vis- ited, and by our next quarterly meeting things put on quite an encouraging aspect. Revivals had broken out in many places, and the work of the Lord went on glori- ously. This waked up opposition, and the heavy but sluggish artillery of Calvinism was brought. to bear upon our rp,nks. I gave my colleague charge of this wing of the opposition. I was present, on one occasion, when one of the Calvinist ministers attacked mv colleague. He was an Irishman, and hence, in that respect, Greek met Greek The point of debate was in regard to the secret and re- vealed will of God. M'Elroy contended that if God had a secret will, from the very nececsity of the case we must be ignorant of it ; for if we knew it, it would be no longer secret. He also denied that the Bible taught such a doc- trine. The Calvinist replied, "Your sophistry must give way to matter of fact." The matter of fact to which he referred, was the case of Abraham. God had com- manded him to offer up his son Isaac, and the revealed will of God was evidently that Isaac should be slain as a sacrifice, but the secret will of God was of an entirely op- posite character. "Now," said the Calvinist, with an air of pride and conscious triumph over his antagonist, "your system of error falls to the ground." The Methodist re- joined, "I am sorry, for your sake, though not for the truth's sake, that your matter of fact turns out to be mat- ter of fiction. Had you paid half as much attention to the Bible as you have to the Assembly's Catechism, you would not have assumed that to be a matter of fact, which has in reality no existence. You say that only a r>art of the Divine procedure, in the case of Abraham, was revealed, and that related to the peremptory com- 270 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF mand to slay hi* son. But what are the facts? God com- manded Abraham to slay his son. While in the act of obeying, another command is given entirely reversing the former. Neither of these purposes of God were secret, inasmuch as they were both revealed." Many interesting incidents are connected with the life of this eccentric minister. The new meeting-house in Steubenville had been left in an unfinished condition, and it was put under contract and soon completed. At the dedication, a gentleman of the town, with eleven others, presented a very handsome copy of the Bible for the use of the pulpit, with a request that a sermon should be preached from Revelation xxii, 21. Their request was complied with, and it pleased God to pour out his Spirit in a wonderful manner. Eleven out of the twelve who gave the Bible, were converted to God and joined the Church. This work spread till the whole town was under its influence. I procured a local brother to fill my appointments, and remained with my colleague for some time. Our meetings continued day and night. One morning, before breakfast, I was sent for to pray with eight families, many of whom I found lying on the floor crying for mercy. ■ The influence of this revival extended to other Churches, and many were brought from darkness to light, and from the bondage of Satan to the liberty of the children of God. One hundred and thirty joined on probation. The revival flame spread, and at many other appointments on the circuit there were manifest displays of Divine power in awakening and conversion. It was not long till all the waste places of Zion were restored, and the Church became the garden of the Lord. In the town of Smithfield there was no society of Meth • odists. It was settled principally by Quakers ; and though there were many good people in it, yet there were many very wicked. My colleague and I met here every two REV. JAMES B. FINLET. 27) weeks, and we resolved on preaching here. A gentleman :\v the name of S. gave us the use of his house as a place of worship, and it was not long till he who opened his door for the worship of God, received the blessing of God in Ids heart. The Lord revived his work here, and in a short time we had a society of seventy members ; and so large were our congregations, that the place was much too small for us. I divided the circuit between my col- league and self for the purpose of reading the Rules, which we did once a quarter. While brother M'Elroy was reading the Rules at a certain place, called Irish Ridge, where his congregation was mostly composed of his own countrymen, he took occasion to contrast their condition with what it was in the mother country. Said he, "You Irishmen remind me much of the Israelites when they were in Egypt. They had taskmasters, and were obliged to make their tale of brick, finding their own straw. When you were in Ireland your taskmasters took ali your living and only left you a few potatoes to eat, and these ye often salted with your tears; but God has opened up a way for you across the briny deep, and brought you and your wives and children into a land which flows with milk and honey, and ye have good homes, while your din- ners now every day are better than your best wedding dinners in the old country. Ye have grown fat, and your eyes stick out like Jeshurun's. When ye cross the fence with your sickles to reap down the golden harvests, instead of reaping the sheaf and bringing it as a wave-offering to the Lord, you must have your bottle of whisky, and cry out, 'Come, boys, we'll all jist take a dram. Sure an' it'll nurt no body,' and in an hour or two ye are all half-seas over." This lecture so offended many of his countrymen that they protested against being so abused, and mani- fesled a great deal of feeling against their preacher, «o much so that they were ill at ease under the reproof. 272 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF Their "Irish" had got up so high that M'Elroy wrote me the following letter: "Dear Brother, — Woe is me, for my mother brought forth a man of strife. My hand is against every man, tind every man's hand is against me. I have pulled the l.ottom out of the hornet's nest at L.'s meeting-house, and if you don't come and cooper it in no one knows where Lhey will swarm to." After all our increase this year, we returned but sixty- seven more than the preceding year. This, however, was to be accounted for by the numbers that were laid aside for breach of rules, and others who fell away under the influence of the mania that prevailed in regard to banks and speculations in real estate. The Church was, how- ever, in a healthy state, and prepared to take care of those who had been taken into her fold and placed under her watch-care. To me it was a pleasant and profitable year. One of the young men who joined the Church be- came a traveling preacher. Two others were called, I have no doubt, to the same work, but they heeded it not; turned away and went back — became poor, dissipated, ■ trifling men. I. C. Hunter was faithful to his calling. He gave himself up wholly to the work of the ministry. In youthful zeal he preached the Gospel of Christ, and like a valiant soldier, he died with his harness on. Brother Hunter was one of the most honest, fearless, and inde pendent men I ever knew. He was a sinceie and unfail- ing friend, prompt in the discharge of every duty, and ready to fill any post assigned him by the Church. He was for many years presiding elder, and sustained thai relation to the Church when attacked with his last sick- ness. In the town of Gallipolis, where he resided, he was cailed to pass through the dark valley, but he was calm collected, and fearless. Trusting alone in the merits c, Jesus, he entered the valley and was lost to earth, l-j JiEV. JAMES IJ. FINLEY. 273 found in heaven. His body lies in a quiet, peaceful rural cemetery, near the town of Burlington, on the Ohio river. There, undisturbed, may his ashes rest till the archangel shall wake them into that new and beautiful form which the saints shall have at the resurrection ! Many who resided on this circuit have long since fin- ished their course and entered into the rest that remaineth for the people of God. The society in Steubenville was characterized for zeal and consistency, but, unfortunately, strong as the fold was it was broken down, and many of the influential members went off with the Radicals. This unhappy state of things was brought about by the very shepherds who were placed over the fold. They rent the Church and had not the courage and consistency to go with the straying. There was, however, a remnant left, and in the course of several years the Church regained, in a good degree, what she had lost. I must not omit to mention — chronicling, as I am en- deavoring to do, the times — the almost universal spirit of speculation which prevailed, and to which I have already alluded. A money mania seemed to have seized, like an epidemic, the entire people. Every body went to banking. Within the bounds of our circuit there were no less than nine banking establishments, seven of them within the county of Jefferson, and one of them said to have been kept in a lady's chest. All these were engaged in issuing paper, while every incorporated town, village, or company went to work to issuing notes. But it did not stop here. Tavern-keepers, merchants, butchers, bakers— every body seemed to have become bankers. This fever not only raged in this vicinity, but throughout the entire west. It proved fatal, in a greater or less degree, wherever it spread. Before it subsided, another mania sprung up, to which we have also alluded; namely, the laying out of QfiH towns. So great was the excitement, that town* 18 274 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF irere laid ou< at almost every cross road within a mile of each other, and on the tops of barren hills. It was nr matter where they were located, plots were made, adver- tisements were stuck up, lots were sold, and magnificent squares left for public buildings. After this rage sub- sided, it is not to be wondered at that society was left in a deplorable condition. The imaginary riches of the specu- lator flew away like the morning cloud, and from a state of high excitement the community relapsed into a state of stagnation. A perfect paralysis seemed to have come upon every department of business, and all who had en- tered into these speculations were entirely bankrupt. Dis- content and dissatisfaction prevailed every-where. About three weeks previous to the conference, I left the circuit to accompany Bishop M'Kendree and assist him with his pack-horse. On the pack-horse he carried the most of his movables, such as clothes, books, manuscripts, minutes of conferences, etc. It would look rather strange to see a Methodist bishop, in this country, now on horse- back, though I heard of one, the other day, on a mule in California. Our first stopping-place was Cambridge, where the Bishop preached at twelve o'clock. From thence we traveled on to Zanesville the next day, and held meeting again. Thus we continued on our course, pass- ing through Somerset, Lancaster, Chilicothe, Hillsboro. Xenia, and Springfield, holding meetings at all the places but Somerset. Here I left the Bishop and rode on to Me- chanicsburg, where the brethren were holding a camp meeting — the first held in this section of country. This entire region was overrun with New Lights, and every thing that could be persuaded to go under the water was immersed. This was all the rage, and the highest ambi- cion of the preachers of that fauh, was to get the people dipped. ' The novelty of a camp meeting called out ira- aense multitudes, and among them the New Lights, KEV. JAMES B. FIN LEY* 275 Those who know any thing about this people, esperially their preachers, know that, like the doctor who was deatl on fits, they are great on argument. There were tvvc things specially against which they leveled -their artillery, and these were, first, Church government, and, secondly, creeds, etc. The reader must not suppose, from this, that they were a Church without any government or belief whatever. Far from it; their great central doctrine was immersion, which included regeneration. This one idea seemed to have swallowed up all other forms of faith and worship. Bishop Asbury came to this camp meeting on Saturday, in company with his traveling companion, the Rev. J. W. Bond. No sooner was it known that he had arrived, than there was a general move toward him. All seemed to be anxious to see a bishop; and they pressed around him so closely that it was difficult to get him into the preachers* tent. After he was housed, the people crowded round the door by hundreds. He remarked to me, on witnessing the curiosity of the people, "You might as well have an elephant in your camp as to have me." It seemed to annoy him, to have them gazing at him in such numbers; and to relieve him I requested them to retire from the tent, and the Bishop would preach for them, perhaps, the next day, when they all could have an opportunity of see- ing and hearing him. Brother Bond, his traveling com- panion, desiring to visit his friends at Urbana, I took charge of the Bishop, and made him as comfortabl" as circumstances would allow. On Sabbath the Bishop preached, and the vast concourse had an opportunity of judging for themselves in regard to the ability of the Methodist prelate. That day the Gospel was preached in demonstration of the spirit and power of God. During the meeting man) were converted and joined the Church. At the close of 276 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF the meeting I started, with the Bishop, for Springfield, where we arrived Tuesday afternoon. We stopped with a Methodist family. As we passed through the parlors we saw the daughter and some other young ladies dressed very gayly. The daughter was playing on the piano, and as we moved through the room we doubtless elicited from those fashionable young ladies some remarks about the rusticity of our appearance ; and the wonder was doubt- less excited, where on earth could these old country codg- ers have come from? The Bishop took his seat, and pres- ently in came the father and mother of the young lady. They spoke to the Bishop, and then followed the grand- father and grandmother. When the old lady took the Bishop by the hand he held it, and looking her in the face, while the tear dropped from his eye, he said, "I was look- ing to see if I could trace in the lineaments of your face, the likeness of your sainted mother. She belonged to the first generation of Methodists. She lived a holy life and died a most happy and triumphant death. You," said the Bishop, "and your husband belong to the second gen- eration of Methodists. Your son and his wife are the ihird, and that young girl, your granddaughter, represents the fourth. She has learned to dress and play on the piano, and is versed in all the arts of fashionable life, and I presume, at this rate of progress, the fifth generation of Methodists will be sent to dancing-school." This was a solemn reproof, and it had a powerful effect upon the grandparents. The first Methodists were a peculiar peo- ple in their personal appearance and manners, and could be distinguished from the world at a single glance. Their self-denial led them to the abandonment of all the lusts of the flesh. They were simple-hearted, single-eyed, hum- ble, and devoted followers of the Savior. They loved God devotedly and one another with pure hearts fervently; and though scoffed at by the world, hated and persecuted REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. Vn by the devil, they witnessed a good profession of godliness and faith. • The conference was held in Lebanon, and Bishops As- bury and M'Kendree were both present. he session was one characterized by great harmony amo. w .he preachers. It lasted seven days, at the expiration of which we all received our appointments. I was sent back to the same circuit, with Joseph Powell for my colleague. Brother David Young was appointed presiding elder of the dis trict; J at as he had business requiring his attention in E^ . Tennessee, I was drafted to make the first round of appointments, and my place was supplied in n.y absence. It was with some considerable difficulty I consented to attempt the task, yet with great depression of mind I en- tered upon the work on the eighth of November. I was made to realize my trust in God and the necessity of greater spiritual ,ver. I prayed with earnestness for the baptism of tne *Ioly Spirit, and in reconsecrating my heart to God .elt the power divine. the ineffable richness and extent of divine love! May my soul ever bask in its infinite ocean ! At the first quarterly meeting, during the holy communion, the Spirit was poured out in rich effusion. Here I met with brothers Waterman and Ruark, and on Monday the thirteenth, rode in company with the former to Hubbert, and stopped at brother Parrish's, where I /spent the evening in reading and prayer. Tuesday \4th. I rode through Hartford to brother J. Leech's, on Shenango. This was a lonesome road, and I was much tempted and tried in mind. I prayed all the day to be delivered, and did find some relief. Wednesday 1 5th. I rode through Meadville, on French creek, to Gravel run. Here I put up at brother Ford's. Living, in this county, is very hard, there being but little for man or beast. This day I am not so tempted. I 278 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF slept well and arose early to offer myself to God without reserve. Thursday \0>th. I rode to brother King's on the flats of French creek, three miles from Waterford. Here I was comforted and felt a blessed hope of heaven. Friday \lth. I rode through Waterford to R. K.'s — himself and wife were formerly Methodists. I exhorted them to seek the Lord and set forward again to run the race set before them. I prayed with them, and w r ent on to Erie. This town occupies a handsome site, and has a good harbor for vessels. Here I met with brother L. Lane, the preacher on this circuit, and tried to preach, at night, to a number of hardened sinners. Saturday 18/A. Set forward for North-east, and stopped at brother Russel's. This family loves the Lord. Sunday \9th. I tried to preach to a large congregation from Acts iii, 19. The Lord helped me, and we had a gracious season. I trust the fruits of this meeting will be seen in the gates of heaven, when all time has an end. Monday 20tk. Rode through Canadew r ay, now Fredo- nia, to brother Baldwin's. In family prayer the Lord vis- ited us in mercy, and our prospects of a better world were greatly increased. Tuesday 2\st. Rode sixteen miles further down the Lake to brother Webb's. This is a new country ; every thing scarce and dear, and hardly to be had at all — corn two dollars per bushel, wheat three dollars per bushel, flour sixteen dollars per barrel, and pickled pork twenty- five cents per pound. These new settlers must learn to live by faith, and many of them have, and are a people zealous of good works. Here, according to the best cal- dilation, I am about two hundred and fifty miles from home, and yet here is the same throne of grace, the sane J ►Savior, and Christians of the same spirit and heaven* 1 KEV. JAMES B. ft IN LEY. 279 Wednesday c 22d. This day I preached to an attentive, weeping congregation, after which I baptized six by im- mersion, and it was a solemn time, and afterward visited a sick brother. He w r as happy in God his Savior, and was resigned to his will, waiting to depart and be with Christ, which is far better. This evening rode five mile to a neighborhood on Silver creek, where the Lord is gra- ciously reviving his work, and many of these new settlors have been converted to God. It has been the observation of my life, that new countries and new settlements are the most favorable to revivals of religion. Many who have lived under the preaching of the Gospel in old settlements, and might have lived and died there without religion, when thrown into a new country, from their old associates and other hinderances, turn to God and live. Thursday 23d. This morning I felt much revived and encouraged. My communion with God was sweet; yes, sweeter than honey or the honey-comb. I spent part of the forenoon in visiting the young converts, and in pray- ing with them. At twelve o'clock I tried to preach to a large, attentive, and weeping congregation, and, I trust, not in vain, and baptized six by immersion, and several joined the Church. It is in accordance with the religious education of these people that no one must kneel in prayer, at least till he has determined to be religious ; then he must get religion, and then be baptized, and that by im- mersion, and then join the Church, and then take up his or her cross in prayer and conversational class or love- feast meetings. In the afternoon we rode twelve miles to brother Baldwin's, and had a good night's rest. Friday 2Mli. Started for Chatauque Lake in company with brother Lane, and after traveling several mile* through a swampy country, we arrived at a brother South worth's, where quarterly meeting is to commence to- morrow. 280 AUTOUTOORAPHY OF Saturday 25lh. This day it began to rain, and looked as thouoh a storm was on band. I sought, before the mercy seat, for a suitable preparation of heart for the du- ties which lay before me, and I felt the Lord precious to my soul. At twelve o'clock I tried to preach from Matt. viii, 11, 12, and it was a very open time with me; the Lord helped me. There was a great move in the congre- gation ; saints rejoiced, and sinners cried aloud for mercy. After preaching we held our quarterly meeting confer- ence. There were two appeals, and we got them adjusted satisfactorily. At five brother Smith preached, and I ex- horted after him, and then we held a prayer meeting; and the shouts of new-born souls were heard before it closed. Sunday 26tk. At nine o'clock our sacrament com- menced, and we had a good time. But Satan was en- raged at our love-feast: one of the old men's sons, who was kept out, became enraged, and tried to break open the door, and then went to a window and broke it, and hurt an old man much. God's judgments will overtake him before lonof. I was told he will curse his mother and father to their faces. Notwithstanding this interruption, the meeting was one of interest and power. At twelve I commenced preaching from the first Psalm, and the three first verses I read for my text. During the time of my Dreaching, in which I laid it down as heavy as I could on the sinner, some one called me a liar. Satan was enraged to the very highest pitch ; his kingdom was shaking, and I felt that God, and heaven, and angels, were with us, and on our side, and the devil's kingdom trembled. Such was the constancy of the rain, that few could leave, and we had a house-full. All night was spent io exhortations, singing, and prayer. It was a night never to be for- gotten. Monday 27th. I rode to North-east, and preached to a dull, hardened set of sinners, from Prov. xx, 4. REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 2t Tuesday 28th. Rode to brother Stone's, and put up t. rest till to-morrow. Sister Stone is an old lady, and h well-tried Christian. She embraced religion, in early life, and became a member of the Methodist Episcopal Church when it was a reproach and by-word; but she knew in whom she had believed, and walked with God in newness of life. She is now a mother in our Israel, and we Meth- odist preachers find in her a mother, and her house a welcome home. For years after this I made her house my home, when I could reach it. She sent for 'Squire Reese and his wife to spend the afternoon, and we had a comfortable time. We mingled our prayers together, resolved to live for God, and strive for heaven. Wednesday 29th. This day I feel at peace with God, and all men. At two o'clock I tried to preach to the peo- ple from Heb. ii, 3, and some were awakened to see their condition, and to pray. May the work of life penetrate the inmost hearts, and bring forth fruits unto holiness, that the end may be eternal life ! Thursday 30th. This morning my soul is staid on God. I rode to Erie, where I saw the vessels which Com- modore Perry took from the enemy when he conquered the British navy on Lake Erie. They were literally torn .to pieces. The Niagara is the largest, and seems to have received the hottest fire. They all lay out in the basin, sunk, a mile from the town. From Erie I rode to brother. Randall's, on Conneaut, where our next quarterly ineethj is to be held — thirty -two miles up the Lake. Friday 31st. At twelve o'clock our meeting cpifi* nenced. I tried to expound John xii, 21, 22. Brother Ira Eddy exhorted. In the quarterly conference we had a good time, stirring each other up to faith and good works. In the evening brother Stantliff preached, and Drother Westlake exhorted. This was a time of o T eat power. On the Sabbath I tried to hold forth from John 282 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF vi, 50. A* «;. close, some fen, others shouted, and sorns were in a lage At night the Lord's people were tilled with his heavenly presence in an astonishing manner; and while some were shouting and praising God in the house, others were in the yard giving glory to God in the highest. Monday I rode forty miles to brother Skene's, and next day to brother J. Leach's, and preached in old Salem meeting-house ; thence to Beaver-town, w here we had a good quarterly meeting; thence home to Steubenville, where I found my family all well, and glad that my serv- ice as presiding elder was at an end. In a short time I took my circuit, to my great comfort At my own quarterly meeting we had a time of grace and mercy. Our Smithfield class had grown so that there was no place to hold us. I then resolved to try to put up a meeting- house; but ground must first be obtained, and I went to the proprietor and asked to buy a place suitable for a meeting-house. He then promised he would let me have a place suitable, and would select it by the time ] returned. When I returned there was no lot found, and he could not let us have any. I then made application t.G a man who made no pretensions to religion, and he told me I should have a lot; and he took me to the lot on which the Church was built, and gave it me for forty dollars. I set to work, and, scarce as money was, in one round I collected the amount and got the deed. Then the money must be raised to build. Five hundred dol- lars were necessary. This time it was hard work. But it must be done ; and to begging we went. Those who cou'id not give money gave trade. I got from the sisters moro than the half of it, in linens, yarn, thread, socks, stock- ings, flax, and feathers. So I traded and persevered, till, by the help of God, I made it up ; and we got a house, and dedicated it to the service of God. We had the following preaching-place*.; namely, Ste'jbenvil'e— nere REV. JAMES B. FIN LEY. 283 we spent the whole Sabbath — Hale's meeting-house, Fid ward Taylor's, Scarlott's, Davis's, Moore's, Long's meet- ing-house, Baker's, Kent's, Evans's, Hinde's, Cadiz, Dick- erson's, Roberts's, Holmes's meeting-house, Cramlett'b, Smithfield, Hopewell meeting-house, Scott's, Dean's, Permar's, and another I do not recollect. This year we had to train those who had joined thf, year before ; and this we labored to do by requiring a strict attention to class, prayer meeting, family, and pri- vate prayer, and especially the last two. We admitted of no exemption. Many excuses w r ere made about family prayer; but the rules required it, and the family required it, and Christianity * required it.. Some were borne with for a season ; but if they repented not they were excluded for neglect of duty. The leaders were all instructed to watch over the observance of the Sabbath, and report any who should desecrate the day by doing ordinary work, buying, selling, or running about when they ought to be nt Church. The leaders -pretty generally did their duty, so that those who were not in earnest seeking the Lord, the place became too strict for them, and they retired ; and, notwithstanding all the difficulties w r e had to contend with, we w r ere able to return forty net increase. We closed our year's labor with a camp meeting on Lost run. This was a season of the gathering together of the people, and they came, many of them, in the spirit of the work. It commenced with singing and prayer meeting, which continued almost day and night, in some part of the en- campment, till it closed. How many were converted none could tell. About one hundred gave in their names as probationers, but were not returned on the Minutes Thus closed my second year on this circuit. I was much attached to the people both in and out of the Church. I started to conference, at Louisville, in Kentucky, in company with Bishop M'Kendree. At Chilicothe we fell 28i AUrOBIOGEAyilY OF in with Bishop George, crossed the Ohio at Maysvi!le, and at Paris we parted. Bishop M'Kendree went through Georgetown and Bishop George through Lexington, to meet the Shelbyville camp meeting the Saturday and Sab- bath before conference. At this place was collected nearl) 6ne-half the conference. Such a crowd and so mucl: feasting was going on that little good was done. Wt retired in the afternoon to a farm-house, and staid all night. Next day we started for the seat of the confer- ence, where we arrived. The session of the conference was opened on the 3d of September, 1816. This closes my diary for that time, and 1 give it v tl« reader just as it was entered in my journal. KEV. JAMES B. IINLEY. 2S« CHAPTER XVI. ITINERANT LIB^E CONTINUED. At the conference all the Bishops were present — M'Kendree, Roberts, and George. Bishop Asburv Iuiq ceased his labors, and followed his beloved Coke to heaven. It was an interesting session to both preachers and people. One day a messenger came to me and in- formed me that Bishop M'Kendree wished to see me at his room. I went accordingly, and when I arrived he said, "I am going to put you in charge of the Ohio dis- trict." I told him candidly I thought he might make a much better selection ; and, besides, I was entirely too young in the ministry for such a post. ''Well," said he, "you must go and learn. You are not too young to learn." Accordingly, when the appointments ,were read out, my name stood in connection with the OhjJ district. I felt exceedingly depressed, and groaned under rhe load ; but I resolved, God being my helper, to enter the field and do the best I possibly could under the circumstance?,. My district embraced eight circuits, extending from the mouth of Captina, on the Ohio river, to the lake at the mouth of Huron, including the state of Ohio, all the Western Reserve, all western Pennsylvania, from the Ohio, and Alleghanies, and western New York, as far down as Silver creek, below Fredonia. On this field of labor were ten traveling preachers and a membership of four thousand and fifty. My first round of quarterly rrnetings commenced October 19th and 20th, at Lees- Durg, on Tuscarawas circuit. The next was on Beavei 286 A I'TOBIOGE A PHY OF circuit, at the Falls of Big Beaver, on the 26th and 27th Granl River and Mahoning, at Hartford, Western Re- serve, on November 2d and 3d; Eiie circuit, at Oil creek, on the Alleghany river, in western Pennsylvania, Novem- ber 9th and 10th; Chatauque circuit, at Broken Straw, November 16th and 17lh; Shemtngo circuit, at Jackman's meeting-house, four miles bilow Pittsburg, November 23d and 24th ; Steubenville circuit, at Lono's meetini>:- house ; November 30th and December 1st; West Wheel- ing, December 7th and 8th, at Andrew Scott's, near Wheeling. The most of these quarterly meetings were seasons of great interest, and attended with Divine mani- festations. It was customary, in consequence of the new- ness of the country and the sparseness of the population, to hold prayer meetings at different places, on Saturday night of the quarterly meeting. These meetings were attended with great good, and when they would all meet in love-feast in the morning, and speak of the blessings received at different places where the meetings were held, it would kindle the spirit of piety ; and I have no doubt if this practice had been continued it would have resulted in vastly more good to the Church than the preaching of Saturday night. A custom prevailed at these meetings which was strange to me. No one was called on to pray. The leader would say, " If any of you feel like taking up the cross and delivering your mind, do so." Sometimes three or four would commence at once. This was alto- gether upon the voluntary principle. The practice was carried into the public meetings, and if any one male or female felt inspired, no matter who was preaching, they would rise and deliver their impressions. While I was preaching one Sabbath, at a quarterly meeting, a sister rose and commenced delivering her mind at the top of her voice. This sudden and unexpected outburst startled me, and I did not know what to make of it. I told her REV. JAMES B. FIN LEY. 267 however, to hold up, and if, after I was done my sermon, she wished to exhort, she should have the opportunity, as I thought one at a time was quite enough. " She took her seat, and many were much tried because I stopped her. After this I was not again interrupted by a female prophet. I thought the practice a wrong one, and contrary to thai decency and order which should characterize the worship of God, and quoted the language of St. Paul in regard to women teaching in the Church, and expressed a hope that the Spirit would not move any more to speak on such oc- casions. The people had another practice which I greatly disliked; namely, that of keeping open doors at love-feasts and class meetings. I took strong ground against this practice, and found that among the New England Meth- odists there was much opposition, as they desired to have all their neighbors, good and bad, enjoy all the advan- tages connected with their select meetings. I labored to show the impropriety of such a course. We were ex*- horted not to give that which was holy to dogs, or to cast our pearls before swine. But these were not the only difficulties we had to con- tend with. In almost all the towns, Calvinism and Uni- versalism had intrenched themselves. A Calvinist min- ister was stationed in almost every town, and the Presby- terian influence was so great that Methodism could scarcely live. What few Methodists, there, were, could not hope to rise above the occupation in the Church of hewing wood and drawing water. When they were few and despised, Presbyterian dignity could not stoop to a recognition of them ; but when the number increased, and 'fce fervent Gospel appeals of the "circuit rider" waked up the town, then the gentleman in black would call and inquire into the "religious interest" that seemed to be abroad in the town, and speak of the much greater atten- tion which was shown to preaching in his congregation. 288 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF and suggest the holding of a un:3n meet : ng; and such a union ! Save the mark ! Presbyterian union, formed for the sole purpose of using the Methodists in advancing Presbyterianism ! * I plainly told my brethren I had noth* ino- against the Presbyterians; I loved them, but I loved Methodism more, and, as we had a shop of our own, we would not work journey-work any longer. I exhorted them to hold their own prayer meetings and class meet- ings, and attend to their duty, and God would revive his work in his own way. "In your union meetings," said I, "you can not pray aloud; and if one of you should get happy, you must quench the Spirit; or if you take >» Methodist shout, they will carry you out as a disturbei of the peace; besides, you dare not even to say amen above a whisper." This short, homely address, brought down many bitter things on my head, and waked up a spirit of controversy. •I carried the Confession of Faith with me, and whenever the doctrine of the horrible decree was denied, I would produce the old Saybrook platform in my congregations, and read for the satisfaction of the hearers. My course in this regard gave great offense. Some of my opponents ueemed to affect great astonishment that I should have tie effrontery to expose the tenets of Calvin. Such con- duct was insufferable; but I was not Servetus, and so passed unhurt amid the bowlings of the enemy. This course soon waked up the popular mind, and inquiries and investigations were made, which resulted most favorably to the Methodist cause. I exhorted the preachers to scat ter the doctrinal tracts; Wesley on Predestination, and Fletcher's Checks; and, in the mean time, many were awakened and converted. The second round of quarterly meetings commenced in January, and closed on the first and second of March In this round I suffered much with a cold, which I ha( REV. JAMES B. FINLET. 289 « contracted from exposure to the chilling blasts of the northern lakes. Our meetings were all attended with the presence and power of God, and the preachers were all in the spirit of revivals. At North-east we had a most glorious time, both among saints and sinners. The snow was about two feet deep, and continued for a long time, affording great facilities for sleighing, which were im- proved. Vast numbers came to church, and many were converted. At this place I visited the grave of the Rev. Thomas Branch, a native of Preston, Connecticut. He entered the traveling connection in 1 800, in the New York conference. He labored in the vineyard of his Lord with great acceptability and usefulness to the people. His health failing him, and thinking that a change of climate would improve it, he asked for and obtained a transfer to our conference, and was appointed, with brother David Young, to Marietta circuit, in 1812. He progressed in his travels as far as North-east, in Pennsylvania, where he was obliged, from increasing disability, to desist from his labors, and seek rest. But his work was done, and his rest was to be the rest of heaven. My feelings were of a peculiarly- solemn cast, as I stood by that lone grave of the stranger minister, in a strange land. His meek and quiet spirit won for him the friendship of all. In- deed, it may be said, "None knew him but to love him, None named him but to praise." And though he died away from home, and his eyes were closed by stranger hands, they were, nevertheless, the hands of affection. The last round of quarterly meetings for the year were camp meetings, with few exceptions. A quarterly meet- ing was held at Long's, which was called the great quar- terly meeting, and is so remembered to this day. My brother, John P. Finley, was present at this meeting. On 19 290 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF the Sabbath he took for his text but one word, and that word was Mercy. God was truly with us in mercy. The whole assembly was melted down under the genial influ- ences of the spirit of the text. It was my lot to follow, and I took for my text Justice. As I progressed, the con- victing power of God fell on the people, and before I was done more than twenty stout-hearted sinners threw them- selves upon the altar, and cried for mercy. Among the number was a rough, stalwart old sea captain. It seemed as though all the dark spirits of the deep had seized him. I never saw a man in so much distress and agony of mind in all my life before. The conflict, however, though ter- rible and awful, was not of long duration. In a short lime mercy came and touched his heart, and opened his eyes, and unloosed his tongue, and he spoke the language of heaven. Before the meeting ended more than fifty were converted. Our quarterly camp meeting commenced at Canadeway, or what is now called Fredonia, July 24, and lasted four days. Brothers James M'Mahon and Smith accompanied me to labor in word and doctrine. At this meeting we expected from the wicked much opposition, as they col- lected together a band the previous year, and drove the people away. The brethren this year fenced in the ground with hemlock brush, leaving two gate-ways, one of ingress and egress, and the other leading to the spring. One of the rules for the government of the encampmen*. was. that at the sound of the trumpet, at nine o'clock at night, all were to retire to their tents, and those who had no place to lodge were required to leave the ground. At dark the rabble gathered, and one of their number was designated as their captain by a piece of white paper attached to his hat, and a white club in his hand. The company made but little disturbance till preaching was over. Seeing thai there were indications of hostility od REV. JAMES B. FINLET. 291 their part, I blew the trumpet, and requested all to go to their tents, while those who had none were to leave the ground. The captain of this banditti refused to go, and sum- moned his men to go to his aid. I ordered the constable to take the captain a prisoner; but he swore he would knock down the first man that touched him. He had hardly finished the declaration till I seized him and threw him on the ground, and, disarming him, gave him over into the custody of the officer. His company, seeing the fate of their captain, fled in dismay from the ground. In a conversation I had with the prisoner I learned what his plans were, and how sadly he was disappointed in not being able to carry them out. He pleaded so hard for mercy, and promised so faithfully never to engage in such a wicked work again, that I let him go. We kept up a watch all night, fearing they might return ; but they did not disturb us. Some were in favor of an attack; but one of the company reported that, as I was a Kentuckian, I carried a long dirk in my waistcoat, and that I would as soon stab a man as not. The hour for preaching had arrived, and, as there were rumors coming in from various quarters, that the rowdies were gathering, I preached on the subject of civil and religious liberty. Of course this led me to speak of our Pilgrim forefathers, and the dangers and sufferings endured by them in crossing a wintery deep to plant the standard of equal rights on this desert soil ; and that they might " Leave unstained what here they found — Freedom to worship God " — they pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their fame I remarked, if there were any in whom flowed the blood of the patriot sires of '76 present that day, who would protect us in the exercise of our religious rights and privi- leges, to come over on our side, and defend us from (he 292 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF rabbla Just at that moment Judge Cushing, who wa? sitting in the congregation, rose, and addressing the au- dience, said, "I have fought for this liberty, and I wil) maintain it with my life ; and I give due notice, as a serv- ant of my country, that I will enforce the laws of the state of New York to the utmost against any one who shall disturb this people in their worship." From this on, the meeting was the most orderly one I had attended The Sabbath morn broke upon the earth in all its sacred stillness. All nature seemed to rest calmly in the light and beauty of that Sabbath morn. At an early hour the trumpet summoned us to the concert of prayer. Brother M'Mahon commenced the morning services, and preached at eight o'clock in demonstration of the Spirit and power. I followed at eleven o'clock, and brother Smith at five. At every coming together of the people the work of the Lord progressed with power, and during the night, in the tents, many were born into the kingdom of God. This meeting exerted a good influence upon the whole sur- rounding country. So clear and powerful were the con- versions, followed up, as. they were, by consistent relig- ious lives, that the mouths of gainsayers were stopped. A singular case was brought before the quarterly meet- ing conference at Nelson, which I will relate. A local preacher had been suspended on charges preferred against him by a Mr. M'Intosh. The parties having presented themselves, I called for the papers in the case. The ac- cuser refused to hand them over, and contended that he had the only right to read them. I told him if he did not hand over the papers to the secretary of the conference J would dismiss the case. After some consultation, hf finally gave them, with much reluctance, to the secretary, The testimony seemed quite voluminous, the papers num- bering from one to twenty. On examining these papers J found that they w r ere all written with one hand, which REV. JAMES B. E IN LEY. 29Z excited my suspicion that all was not right. I asked the preacher if he was prepared for his trial. He replied tha» he had received no notice of the taking of the testimony contained in those depositions, and that it was not taken either in the presence of himself or the preacher in charge. My suspicions of a villainous attempt to ruin this brother, were confirmed by this development. I no- ticed that some had made their marks, being unable to write, and I called one of them in. To this Mr. M'Intosh strongly objected. I then turned to the witness and said, "Will you please to state what you know of this mat- ter?" "Why, sir," said he, somewhat surprised, "1 know nothing about it." I then proceeded to read what had been signed by him as his testimony. He was still more surprised, and positively denied ever having said such things, and that what was there written was entirely contrary to what Mr. M'Intosh had read to him. At this the accuser demanded the papers as his property, and on my refusing, he began to swear that he would have them, and threatened to sue me. I told him his papers were a piece of forgery, and if he did not keep perfectly quiet, I would have him prosecuted for forgery. I had the papers filed with the conference papers. The decision of the com- mittee was reversed in the case of the persecuted brother, who felt like a man taken out of a dreadful pit. Thus ended this case. It was a foul, dark plot to ruin the rep- utation of a minister ; but God overruled it, and the guilty were brought to light. The next quarterly camp meeting was held at Gravel run, and commenced the first day of August. These meetings were attended with great good; for whatever may be said now about the propriety of camp meetings, when churches are scattered all over the country, and whole conferences are included in what was then embraced in a district, it is very certain that they proved of essen- 294 AUTOBIO.GRAPHY OF tial service to the Church. Many were converted that otherwise would not have heard the Gospel ; besides, backsliders were reclaimed, and believers were quickened and built up in Christian faith. An English officer, who had heard of camp meetings. but never saw one, came down from Erie to gratify his curiosity. He kept a journal of all the meetings, noting down every thing in the order in which it occurred. Be- ing disposed to allegorize, he compared the Church to an army making an attack on the army of the world. The army of the Church was under the command of Imman- uel, and that of the world under Diabolus. Every meet- ing was regarded as an engagement with the enemy, and the number of converts were reported as the loss in Dia- bolus's army. Those who joined the Church were repre- sented as recruits. The great battle was fought on Sab- bath night. It was a close and hot engagement, lasting all night. The army of Diabolus was attacked in front, flank, and rear, and literally cut to pieces, so that, in mil- itary parlance, there was a total defeat, a perfect rout of horse, foot, and dragoons. Immanuel's troops kept the ground, without the loss of a single officer or private sol- dier, and triumphant victory perched on the banner of the cross. The officer said he would carry the report which he had written to England, and show his countrymen how Americans conducted a holy war. Our next encampment was on Beaver circuit, at Zuver's camp-ground, and commenced the eighth of August. At this meeting we expected to be interrupted by the rabble, as great threats had been made by them in reference to ihe camp meeting. A young militia captain, however, in company with eleven young men, came to our assist- ance, and offered their services to keep order. As none of them were professors of religion, I felt somewhat sus- picious of them, and thought it might perhaps be a mere REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 295 ruse to get us into difficulty. After I had examined into the character and standing of the young men, 1 fully ac- quiesced in their proposition ; and they' did their duty most faithfully, securing the most perfect order to the whole encampment. At this meeting we were assisted by that veteran pioneei preacher, Dr. Shadrach Bostwick, who had for fourteen years labored in the itinerant field. He entered the trav- eling connection in 1791, and traveled successively the fol- lowing circuits : Milford, Talbott, Bethel, Flanders, Eliza- bethtown, Cambridge, Saratoga, and JS"ew London. He then traveled as presiding elder four years on Pittsfield district In 1803 he was sent as a missionary to the Western Reserve, and formed a circuit called Deerfield. During his second year on this circuit, he married and located. He studied medicine, and after he had mastered the science entered upon the practice. During all the time he continued to preach, as circumstances would ad- mit. He was a most amiable man, and had a lovely fam- ily, beloved and respected by all. Such was his piety, and uniform consistency of character, that he won the affection and esteem of all. His letters breathe an ardent spirit of piety. I have several, which I shall keep as pre- cious mementoes of affection. As David and Jonathan, we were one in life, and I trust in death we shall not be divided. The young men who volunteered their services to pro- tect us from the rabble, were nearly all converted before the meeting closed. The camp meeting for Steubenville circuit commenced on the twentieth of August. This was the largest camp meeting we had this year. On Sabbath there was such an immense crowd of people, that little could be done, ex- cept preach. Dr. Doddridge, an Episcopal preacher, bu* wWi had once been a Methodist traveling preacher, was a/ 296 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF the meeting, and preached on Sabbath. His speech be trayed him, for it was very evident to any practiced ob- server that he had been in Methodist harness. He preached with life and power, and he evidently felt quite at home. It is somewhat remarkable that many of our preachers have entered the Protestant Episcopal Church. I have known quite a number take the frock and bands. Some who were neither very learned or eloquent, nor par- ticularly pious, have entered the "succession," and bet- tered their condition vastly, so far as mere temporalities are concerned ; and, instead of traveling circuits, or filling some of the more humble stations in the Methodist Church, have mounted at once to the zenith, and fill the pulpits of metropolitan churches. Verily, this is an age of progress. I knew an English local preacher, a watch-maker, who, after failing to get into the Ohio conference, joined "the Church," and at once went up to the highest pulpit in our land. Their popularity in the Episcopal Church, how- ever, is readily accounted for. The fervor and freshness* of the Methodist element will attract attention, and win admiration, though buried in the folds of the gown, or the forms of the Church. Great allowances are to be made in behalf of many of our brethren, before whom loom up drearily in the dis- tance want and poverty; "for," as Gen. Harrison said, in describing a traveling preacher, " their condition is just the same as though they had taken the vow of poverty." There are a few exceptions, however, to this rule. Some Methodist preachers I have known, who, notwithstanding their scanty allowance, have managed, maneuvered, and speculated with such admirable, productive skill as to amass property. But I hesitate not to say, that the great mass of them live poor, die poor, and leave their families to the charities of the Church. Some I know who have spent a fortune for the privilege of traveling circuits, at a KEV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 297 salary of twenty-five dollars a year, while their wives lived in log-cabins, and rocked their children in sugar- troughs. The meeting was one of great interest. The preachers seemed to have been recommissioned to preach the Gospel. The next camp meeting was at West Wheeling. This was the last of the round, and finished the labors of the year. We were favored with the presence of the vener- able Bishop M'Kendree, who preached with more power than I had ever heard him preach before. The work of the Lord was wonderfully revived, and meetings were kept up night and day, embracing all the exercises of singing, exhortation, and prayer. Vast numbers were awakened and converted. All were at work. Men, wo- men, and even children spoke with new tongues and sung new songs. At the conference held in Zanesville, September 3, 1817, I was reappointed to the Ohio district, with the following brethren: Beaver circuit, Jacob Hooper and Samuel Baker; Erie circuit, Ira Eddy; Grandview and Mahoning, D. D. Davidson and Ezra Booth; Chatauque, Curtis Goddard; Steubenville, Samuel Hamilton, William Knox, and Calvin Ruter; Tuscarawas, James M'Mahon; Huron, John C. Brooke. In the true spirit of Gospel ministers, these brethren went to their respective fields of labor. Great were the toils and hardships they were called to endure. The winter was extremely severe, the cold being almost be- yond endurance; yet the Lord crowned the labors and sufferings of his ministers with success. The country was but sparsely settled; the rides were long and roads rough; the fare hard and provisions scarce; but in the midst of all God was with them. The Huron circuit was the newest, and, consequently, the most difficult field. When Mr. Brooke went on to the circuit there were 298 AtJTOBlOG£AI»HY OF twenty-five preaching-places , but he was enabled to m crease the number, so that it was necessary to divide the circuit; and I sent the Rev. Alfred Brunson, then a local preacher, to the fire-lands, or Huron port, for the purpose of forming a new circuit. The labors of a circuit preacher then bore but little resemblance to the labors of the circuit preacher now. To preach once every day, and lead class after having traveled from ten to thirty miles, and two or three times on Sabbath, and leading class, with the privilege of being home three days out of thirty, was somewhat different from having no week-day appointments, and being able to reach them from home every Sabbath morning, and return again at night a good part of the time. And we rejoice that the labors have decreased, and our churches have increased with such rapidity as to require such a division of labor. Ministers now have more time for study and pastoral work, and a man who, in view of all these facilities, proves himself a drone, had better leave the work of the Lord to more faithful hands. On the land of Dr. Clark, near the portage, was held, this year, the first camp meeting that was ever known in this part of the country. There was quite a large collec- tion of people. The brethren in attendance were M'Ma- hon, Davidson, Booth, and Brooke. The word preached was attended with power to the hearts of the hearers There were many places on this frontier circuit where persons lived who had never heard a sermon, and, prob- ably, but for the camp meeting, never would have heard one, but would have lived and died as destitute as the heathen of interior Africa. Mr. Howe, in his History of Ohio, says, " The first sermon preached in Medina town- ship was by an Episcopal clergyman ;" but it was a fact that Mr. Brooke had preached there the year before, and had a regular oreaching-place. This account reminds mo KEY. JAMES B. ElNLEY. 299 of a statement made by a verdant young missionary from Princeton, or Yale, some years since, who, in describing the moral desolation that reigned in the "far west" — Ohio and Indiana — stated that there were, in a certain county, only two efficient ministers of the Gospel in a population of ten thousand; that is, there were two Pres- byterian preachers, and they were the only ones that de- served the name, while there were a half dozen Methodist preachers and several of other denominations. Some de- nominations we wot of would claim every thing. It has been asserted that the Sabbath schools organized in this country were by Presbyterians and Episcopalians, when it is a historical fact that, years before their own date, Bishop Asbury and his coadjutors had established them. So in regard to temperance. Old Dr. Beecher, "the great western missionary," as he is called in the east, having penetrated the wilderness as far as Cincinnati, be- comes the apostle of temperance, when Methodist preach- ers had pledged whole congregations to total abstinence throughout the length and breadth of the land. But "transeat," and we will persevere, notwithstanding, in trying to do good. Whether it were we or they, it mat- ters little, so the work is done, and our "efficiency" will be best judged by posterity. An incident occurred illustrative of a certain class of preachers of that day. At a quarterly meeting held in Major Oaylord's barn a sharp-featured man came, on Sat- urday, and took his seat. I was advised that he was an orthodox clergyman. I tried to preach a free grace ser- mon on Revelation xxii, 17. After I had finished the dis- course I invited him to come forward and conclude the meeting. Instead of doing so, he rose up in his place and said, " Let us pray." After congratulating the Lord on his greatness and the power of his righteous decrees, which never could be altered, he began, in the plenitude 300 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF of his benevolence, to pray for the poor, ignorant, misled peopk and their instructors, informing the Lord that they were doing more harm than infidelity itself and hindering the progress of the pure Gospel. When he was done, 1 asked him, in the presence of all the people, who those ignorant, deluded people and their instructors were to whom he alluded in his prayer. He hesitated. "Did you," said I, "mean the Methodists, and their doctrines?" To all this he answered nothing. "Then," said I, "come out to-morrow, and I will show up the gross and irrecon- cilable inconsistencies and absurdities of unconditional election and reprobation." When the time arrived, there was a great crowd. I took the Saybrook platform, and read the creed, and brought it to the test of the Bible. The whole audience was greatly excited, and when I closed, the people gathered in groups every-where and en- tered into controversy, which continued till the next meet- ing hour arrived. I then preached the true doctrine, that Jesus, by the grace of God, had tasted death for every man, and that all might be saved. This was the begin- ning of a glorious revival ; seventy-five professed to find peace in believing, and the joys of religion. In those days the Calvinists believed that they were doing God service in attacking Methodist preachers, and they would have driven them from the country, if they could have done it. Frequently I have been attacked by two or three at a time. I could invariably silence them by asking a few questions. The Lord was pleased to give great success to the labors of the preachers on the Ohio district, this year, by the awakening and conversion of many precious souls. On Mahoning circuit two hundred were added to the Churcn. The work commenced at a camp meeting, held in Deerfield m July, 1818. During the meeting there were no perceptible evidences of revival, tfiough all the REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 301 meetings were solemn, and the word was preached in dem- onstration of the Spirit and power; but shortly after the meeting closed, the bread which had been cast upon the waters began to show itself; or, in other words, the seed which was sown sprang up and produced a speedy and abundant harvest. In the course of three months the so- ciety increased from sixteen to upward of one hundred. Among the converted were some of the principal men of the town — Dr. J. Manary, who became a zealous minis- ter of the Gospel, Judge Day, and many others that 1 might mention. After the session of conference in Steubenville, I visited this part of the work, and was astonished to find what God had wrought in Deerfield and the neighboring towns. The work spread like fire in a prairie, and at every meet- ing victorv turned on Israel's side. I held a two davs meeting in brother Manary's barn, and the work was pow- erful and overwhelming. All opposition seemed to have ceased, or was borne down by the tide of religious influ- ence. The following May I attended quarterly meeting in the same place, and there were at least five hundred persons in the barn at love-feast. In this meeting the saints lifted up their voices in praise to God, and the sighs of penitence, mingled with the songs of joy, were grateful to angelic ears. Old Dr. Bostwick, of whom I have already made allusion, was present at the meeting, and seemed as Moses on the summit of Pisgah. He saw by faith the land afar off, and with shoutings exclaimed, in the language of the poet, " "lis grace that supports, or glory would crush me." It was supposed that at least fifty souls were happily con- verted to God during this meeting. On the fourth of June a camp meeting commenced at Lexington, on Erie circuit. All came together m the spirit, and the work commenced at the first meeting. 302 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF The Divine influence kindled and spread in every heart On Sabbath many were awakened to a sense of their losi condition, and were prompted to cry for mercy. The even ing was set apart for a prayer meeting, and many came forward to the mourner's bench, and were converted to God by scores. Among the number was a native of France. This poor old soldier of Napoleon Bonaparte jad wandered out into the western wilderness, houseless and homeless, without a knowledge of God. He had stood in the thickest of the battle, breasted the hottest fire, and heard the deafening roar of the artillery without trembling: but when he came to hear the thunders of Si- nai, his lip quivered, his knees trembled, and he fell in the battle of the Lord. After sueing for mercy, and crying for quarters all night, it pleased God, at the rising of the sun, to pour upon him pardoning mercy. No sooner had neaven come down into the heart of the old, worn, and weary veteran, than he arose, and his whole face beamed with joy. His shouts of praise, ascribing glory to King Jesus, were truly remarkable. In broken English he tried to tell the bystanders what God had done for his soul. He told them he had eaten bread in three kingdoms, and that morning he was eating bread in the fourth, even the bread which comes down from heaven. "I fight,' ; said he, "under de Emperor Napoleon, but now me fight un- der de Emperor Jesus. Vive le Emperor Jesus!" The conversion of this Frenchman was so clear and powerful, that infidelity itself was abashed and confounded. Great good was accomplished at this meeting. On the tenth of June our camp meeting for Lake cir- cuit, fourteen miles below Erie, commenced. A camp meeting had never been held in these parts before, and many were induced, out of mere curiosity, to attend the meeting. The meeting commenced under favorable aus- pices, and many were awakened and converted. Sabbath, REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. !?03 however, was the great day of the feast. When the preacher addressed the vast congiegation, from Rev. xx, 12 — "For the dead, small and great, .shall stand before God ; and the books shall be opened ; and another book, which is the book of life; and the dead shall be judged according to their works" — there was not one inattentive soul on the ground. The whole congiegation was melted into tears, and deep groans, and cries for mercy were heard, bursting forth from hearts convinced of sin and judgment. Occasionally shouts of victory and triumph were heard from the pious, who waited the happy change. The evening was devoted to praying and laboring with mourners. After the ring was formed, and we commenced our address to the throne of grace, the Holy Spirit fell on us, and multitudes within and without the ring fell un- der the shocks of Divine power. Many mariners from the port of Erie were there, and some of them became the subjects of awakening grace. I heard one say to the sheriff, "Mr. B. is down, crying for mercy." To this he replied, "If the Methodists can make him a better man, it is more than the commonwealth of Pennsylvania can do, for he has been in nearly all the prisons of the state." This called my attention to Mr. B., whom I found in great distress, earnestly seeking the salvation of his soul. 1 gave him all the instruction I could, and soon the light of heaven broke on him, and the Sun of righteousness arose with healing in its beams. He was soundly converted, and what tines and imprisonments could not accomplish, the grace of God amply secured. He lived and died a good man. Of the multitudes slain on that evening, many weit made alive by the power of God. From this camp meeting I passed to the Chatauque cir- cuit, and commenced a camp meeting on Broken Straw, a branch of the Alleghany, June the 18th. At the com- 304 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF mencement of this meeting I was much discouraged, buf the Lord was greater to me than all my fears ; and nevej did I have a more clear and satisfactory demonstration ot the fact that man's extremity is God's opportunity. Sab- bath morning arrived, and as the sun was gilding the east- ern sky, the trumpet called us to the concert of prayer. While we were looking up to heaven for a blessing, God graciously poured out his Spirit, and we realized the open- ing of the gates of life. Preparatory to preaching, 1 walked out into the wilderness, or, rather, desert, for the ground was covered with rocks, for the purpose of medi- tation. While reclining among the rocks and fern, which grew in great abundance, I heard a sound which, to the practiced ear, carries more terror perhaps than any other. It was the rattle of death. The weather being exceedingly warm, I had taken off my shoes and stockings, and my feet being somewhat elevated, exposed my legs. Looking in the direction of the alarm, I saw the glaring eyes and forked tongue of the Americana horribilis, within a foot or two of me. It was coiled, and ready for a strike. The great Creator has so formed this dreadful creature that it can not strike without warning, and this doubtless saved my life, as it has the life of thousands. Seeing my dan- ger, I instantly sprang, and, with one bound, was far be- yond the reach of its deadly fangs. After dispatching the rattlesnake, I returned to the camp, thankful to God for deliverance. During the day the work of the Lord went on with power, and many were saved by the regenerating grace of God. Monday morning we held a solemn communion, and I think it was the most glorious season I ever beheld, The most hardened sinners trembled and wept, and looked on while the followers of Him who, in Gethsemane and on Calvary, drank the bitter cup, were commemorating his dying love. REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 305 I held three camp meetings this year before conference, at which many were born into the kingdom, and made the happy partakers of saving grace. All the preachers, traveling and local, were at their posts, and labored with zeal and fidelity. Ira Eddy was recommended as a suita- ble person to be received into the traveling connection, and he was received. Some remarkable incidents occurred at this camp meet- ing, two of which I will relate. Two men from different parts of the country, with theii companies, came to the meeting with the avowed purpose of disturbing the people of God in their worship. One of these men was from the mouth of the Chatauque Lake, and the other from the Alleghany river. The former, Capt. W x, brought with him a supply of whisky. Both these men came into the congregation and took their seats. While the minister was preaching, the Holy Spirit attended the word, and Capt. W. was smitten, like Elymas, the sor- cerer, with blindness. An awful feeling came over him as the horror of darkness surrounded him. He felt as if God was about to call him to judgment; and although he had been a Universalist, and had tried to believe and teach others the delusive doctrines, yet he now felt himself hanging over the fearful gulf, and nothing but life's brittle thread kept him from dropping into perdition. He after- ward remarked that his feelings were awful beyond de- scription. After some time his sight returned, and he arose and left the congregation. Notwithstanding his conviction, his stubborn heart was unwilling to yield, and obstinately persisting in the rejection of mercy, he resolved to seek oblivion in the cup. But the most potential draughts of the maddening poi- son could not obliterate the traces of the Spirit's convic- tion from his heart. Soon, with redoubled force, the pcwer of God again came down upon his sin-smitten 20 306 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF soul. Unable to bear the deep and utter wretchedness which drank up his spirits, he resolved, if God did not kill him, to return home. While on his way home the constraining Spirit of God operated so powerfully, that he was forced to cry out in the bitterness of his soul for mercy. He did not reach home till some time in the night; and when he did arrive, his family were much alarmed. No sooner did he enter the house than he fell upon his knees, and continued his cries for mercy. The alarm was so great that the whole neighborhood was soon collected together. All night that man cried to God, and just as the gray streaks of morning were breaking out from the chambers of the east, the Lord in mercy spoke peace to his soul. His family, and many of the neighbors, were convicted, and the result was, the conversion of thirty in that neighborhood, whom I subsequently organized into a class, and made the Captain's house a preaching-place. The other, W. N., was powerfully awakened on Sab- bath, and being unable to withstand the powerful influence, he fled for his home. Just before reaching the door of his habitation, he was struck down by the power of God, and was carried into the house by some of the family. Soon the alarm spread, the neighbors were collected, and a messenger was dispatched to the camp-ground, a distance of nine miles. Two or three brethren went to the house, and found him in a convulsed and speechless state. Soon after their arrival, he seemed to awake to consciousness, and exclaimed with a loud voice, "0, hell! hell! hell!" He then fell away into the same unconscious state. His countenance bore all the deep-marked traces of despair. The brethren sang and prayed alternately, and those who watched his features could discover the deep emotions of his soul. At times a faint ray of light would kindle on his cheek, but soon it was gone, and like the lightning from a stormy cloud, which shocks the soul and disappears ItEV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 307 in darkness, it only rendered his features more gloomy It seemed as if despair would settle down sullenly upon him. After hours of religious exercise, such as singing and prayer, deep, agonizing prayer to God in behalf of uie struggling soul, all at once the dark cloud passed away, his countenance was lighted up with an unearthly radiance, and opening his eyes he exclaimed, "0, heaven! heaven ! heaven !" Then springing to his feet he shouted. *' Glory ! glory! glory!" Many were awakened and con- verted in this house. He related the exercises of his mind, during his unconscious state, afterward. He said his mind was as bright and clear as ever it was ; that he distinctly saw hell and its miseries. He felt he was doomed; but just as hope was leaving him, he saw the Savior pleading for him. During this plea he said his suspense was awful beyond expression; but when it was ended, and mercy obtained, he saw heaven and glory open upon him. This vear five brethren were admitted into the traveling connection ; namely, Samuel Adams, Samuel Brockunier, Edward Taylor, James Smith, and Dennis Goddard. Con- ference was held at Steubenville, and, being the presiding elder, it became my duty, with the preachers of the cir- cuit, to find places for the preachers during the session. A request was handed to me by one of the stewards, from a gentleman of wealth, that I would send him one of our most talented ministers, and he would cheerfully keep him during conference. The gentleman was a member of the Episcopal Church, and had a worthy family, rather more than ordinarily refined, and enjoying all such elegancies of life as a country village would afford. Wishing to gratify him, I sent Russel Bigelow to be his guest. £sow, Russel was dressed in plain, homespun apparel, cut and made with as much skill as home could furnish. It was not exactly that a la mode which suits fashionable life 308 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF The young miss in the parlor cast many side-long glances at the young preacher, who diffidently sat composing his features, and gazing upon the various objects around him. Masting the steward, Mr. said, "I do not think you have treated me right in sending me such a common, homespun^ooking man." At this the steward came to me in great haste, saying Mr. was displeased. "Well," said I, "his request has been complied with; he asked for a talented man, and I sent him the most talented man we have.- Go and tell him that I wish him and his family to go out to the Presbyterian church to-morrow and hear him preach, and then if they are dissatisfied, I will remove him." Sabbath came. The minister in homespun ascended the desk; all eyes were upon him. "How finely he reads!" says . "What distinct articulation!" said Mr. to his lady, as they sat in the pew. "Deai me," said the daughter, "how beautifully our country preacher reads poetry !" Then followed his prayer; and when, with warm heart, he prayed for the families whc had with generous hospitality thrown open their houses for the entertainment of God's servants, the silent tear and half-suppressed sigh told of his power over the heart. He preached, and it was only as Russel Bigelow, of sainted memory, could preach. Indeed, it is said he ex- ceeded himself on that occasion. The effect upon the hearers was powerful, and upon none more so than his worthy host and family, who took him home, and sent for me to ask my pardon, remarking that he had never lieard such a sermon in all his life. He said to the steward on Monday, "Why do you not keep your ministers better clothed ? You ought not to have a man of such talents as Mr. Bigelow." That day he ordered for him a fin» suit of clothes. REV. JAMES B. FINLEY 309 CHAPTER XVII. BACKWOODS PREACHERS. The following graphic description of backwoods preach- ers, furnished me by a friend, serves not only to illustrate the manner in which many preachers were manufactured in early days, but will convey some idea of their character and talents : A Presbytery of the Cumberland Church had assem- bled in one of the valleys of the Cumberland range. It was a season of spiritual drought, and the Churches had suffered from famine. The members of the ecclesiastical body then collected in their semi-annual convocation were mostly weather-beaten veterans — men who had braved the earlier difficulties of the denomination to which they were attached, when, about twenty years before, it had seceded from the parent stock, to erect a banner in Zion with a new device. They were in all about twenty per- sons, of whom a little more than half were preachers, the rest ruling elders of congregations, who were there to represent the local interests of the Church sessions. This meeting was at a solemn crisis ; for the Church was troubled, and the way before her was shrouded in darkness. The love of many had waxed cold. Defec- tions had occurred. Some who were once masters in Israel had withdrawn, carrying off weighty influence and leaving perplexities behind. Others were threatening to dissolve the Church unless radical changes were made in doctrines and polity. Alarming coldness prevailed in regard to candidates foj 310 AUTOBlOGit A.PIIY OF the ministry, none having offered for several sessions, and those already in charge giving but little evidence of a disposition to advance or an ability to labor in the work which they had professed to love. Presbytery, however, was unusually full, nearly every Church session being represented, and not one of the ordained ministers absent. The deliberations were opened, as usual, with prayer by the moderator, an aged servant of God ; and it was ob- served by those skilled in such things, that there was great liberty given him when he entreated " that the God of the harvest, in infinite mercy, would send more labor- ers into his harvest." The usual formalities being ended, the opening sermon was preached by the same person. His subject compre- hended the character and importance of a call to the Gospel ministry, and was treated with much earnestness. The morning hour being ended, the body adjourned to early candle-lighting. A considerable crowd had assem- bled upon this novel occasion, and it was under their hos- pitable roofs that the members found welcome reception. Few, indeed, of the mountain cabins in the vicinity but what received one or more upon that occasion, glad to be permitted to talk of the Savior to those who rarely had such opportunities of hearing the Gospel. Night brought them all back ao-ain to the house of eratheringr. It was a singularly wild and startling scene to one who has not mixed in the different phases of frontier life. The build- ing in which the meeting was held was a plain log-cabin, the dwelling of one of the elders, and only selected on account of its being the largest in the vicinity. There were the beds and the furniture of the whole family, nc unprolific one at that, stowed around a room but twenty feet square. Upon those beds, and upon seats made by laying split puncheons upon cross logs, was seated the company of KEV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 3ll men, women, and children, ministers, delegates, and all, each glad to endure a process of compression for a few hours, in the expectation of an intellectual reward. It had been before arranged that this night's meeting should be devoted to candidates for the ministry. A call was, therefore, made "to all who had felt impressions to preach to come forward and converse with Presbytery on the subject." Every one must undergo this peculiar ordeal who inclines to enter the ministry; and there are no traditions in the Church more entertaining than those which tell how the ministers who are now burning and shining lights made their first awkward and unpromising exhibit before Presbytery. The call being made by the presiding officer, three per- sons arose to their feet. Of the first and second it will be unnecessary here to speak. The third had stood partly concealed in a dark corner of the room, while the others were relating the particulars which induced the Presby- tery to accept them as probationers ; but now he stepped forward and faced the moderator. His appearance ex- cited a universal start of surprise even among that unso- phisticated audience, accustomed to great peculiarities of Iress and rudeness of manner. Let the reader imagine x person dressed in what is styled copperas cloth; that is. a cloth home-spun, home-woven, home-cut, and home- sewed, dyed in that bilious hue which is formed by cop- peras, alum, and walnut bark, and made into coat, vest, and breeches. To this add brogans of home -tanned, red leather, tied with a leather thoncj, covering immense feet, made — both feet and brogans — for climbing hills, and you have the portrait of a mountain boy; able at full run to scale a bluff, to live upon the proceeds of his rifle for support, und to whip any lowland fellow in the state. Such was ihe person who left his dark corner and came into the fujj 312 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF blaze of the pine-knot fire. He was weeping bitterly and, having no handkerchief, the primitive arrangement for such cases provided was necessarily adopted. He stood silent for a minute, every beholder awaiting with intense curiosity the announcement of his business, then, clearing his throat, commenced, " I've come to Pres- by ," but a new flood of tears impeded his efforts to speak. The moderator kindly remarked, "And what did you came to Presbytery for, my good friend ? Take your own time and tell us all about it ; don't be alarmed ; be seated; nobody will hurt you. Come, now, tell us what you come to Presbytery for." The stranger was emboldened by this to commence again, even the third and fourth time, but could never proceed further than "Pve come to Presby ," and the storm of his soul prevailed. Here one of the members suggested that he had better retire with some one, and communicate his wishes pri- vately; for as yet no person imagined his true errand, but rather supposed that he was laboring under some spiritual difficulty, which he would needs have settled by the meeting. But to this hint he resolutely demurred, replying "that he'd get his voice d'reckly, please God;" and so he did; and he rose up, straightening his gaunt, awkward form, and then such words as passed his lips had never before rung through that assembly. I shall not attempt — nor could I do it, for want of a report — to quote his own words ; but the oldest minister present declared, years afterward, that they scorched and ournt wherever they fell. A sketch of his subject will be sufficient here. It seems that he had lived all his days in ignorance and sin, without an hour's schooling, with out any training either for this world or the next, with- out any knowledge of the affairs of humanity, having sprung up like one of the cedars on nis own mountains, REV. JAMES fc. FINLEY. 31b and with as little cultivation. Thus he had passed more than twenty years, laboring in a humble way for support, and at times pursuing the pleasures and profits of the chase, t A few months back he had accidentally fallen in with a traveling preacher, who had lost his way among thf his Bible and collection of hymns. Year after year he continued to travel the wild circuit of the frontier, earning annually but a hundred dollars for labors painful as a slave at the oar. But his vocation afforded him an excel- lent opportunity for meditation, and even reading. In his »ong journeys from one appointment to another, he was 326 ATJTOBIOGKAPHY OF alone, with nothing around him but woods and waters, birds, mountains, sun, moon, and stars. Furthermore, he bought him books of liteiature and science, ana pored over them as he rode along, with an ardor and perse- verance such as perhaps never was witnessed within the stone walls of a college. Thus he mastered mathematics, logic, physic, law, and several languages, ancient and modern. 0, believe me, believe all human history, there is no teacher like the student's own hard-working intellect, urged on to action and guided in its efforts by the omnip- otence of an unconquerable will. "Why did not this western prodigy achieve for himself a more extended renown ? " Why did he not climb to the "loftiest stations in the Church ? If this narrative be true, he ought, before now, to have been a bishop, at least." The statement of a few facts will solve the problem. Let it be remembered, then, that the Methodist Episcopal Church is a hierarchy, in which the dispensation of cler- ical honors rests exclusively with the bishops and General conferences of itinerants, where the laity and local preach- ers are unrepresented, and, consequently, have no voice. Hence, in that sect, popular eloquence, and other showy qualities, have never been found sufficient passports to the pre-eminent distinctions of authority and office, but often to the reverse. The bishop's gown must be worn by steady, austere devotion, not by brilliant oratory or pro- found and varied learning. On this perilous rock Mr. 's lofty vessel was shivered into atoms of a hopeless wreck. He made no pretensions to superior sanctity ; nor was it manifested in his conduct and demeanor, whether in the pulpit or in private life. Indeed, he was distinguished by one very unclerical peculiarity — combativeness in the superlative degree. His battles, though always apparently in the de- fensive, were as numerous as the celebrated Bowie. The REV. JAMES B. FIN LEY. 327 only difference was this, that Bowie fought with deadly weapons, while Mr. used but his enormous fist, which was as effective, however, in the speedy settlement of belligerent issues as any knife or pistol ever forged out of steel. Let the reader Judge from the following anecdote. At a camp meeting upon one of his early circuits there was a great collection of rowdies. They were both intoxicated and armed with clubs, dirks, knives, and whips; and they swore they would break up the meeting. At eight o'clock, on Sunday morning, Mr. was appointed to preach. When about half through his discourse two well-dressed young men marched into the assembly, with loaded whips, and hats on, and, standing up in the midst of the ladies, began to laugh and talk. The preacher requested them to desist; but, in reply, they cursed him, told him to mind his own business, and refused to sit down. Mr. then called for a magistrate; but, although two were present, they were both afraid to interfere. The preacher then descending from the stand, told the magistrates to com- mand him to take the rowdies, and he would do it at the risk of his life. He advanced toward them; they ordered him to stand off. One of them struck at the preacher's head with his whip, when the latter closed in with the rowdy, and jerked him off the seat. A reg- ular scuffle now ensues; the congregation is all in com- motion. The preacher throws his prisoner, and holds him fast; threatening that unless he is quiet, he will be thoroughly pounded. Meanwhile the mob rushes to the rescue, and an old d.vunken magistrate comes up, and orders Mr. to let his prisoner go. He refuses. The officer swears that if he does not release the rowdy, ho will knock him down. The preacher tells him to crack away. The drunken justice makes a pass at Mr 328 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP -, who parries the stroke, seizes the officer by the collar and hair, and, by a sudden jerk forward, brings him to the ground, and jumps upon him; telling him, as he told the rowdy, to be quiet, or he should be well pounded. A general melee ensues. The mob knocked down several magistrates and several preachers. Mean- while Mr. placed himself at the head of the friends of order, and he and the ringleader of the mob meet. The rowdy attacks the preacher with the inten tion of knocking him down; but, by the force of his last pass, the side of his face is turned toward the preacher, who gives a sudden and well-directed blow in the burr of the ear, and drops him to the earth. Where- upon a general rush is made upon the mob by the friends of order, and the rascals are knocked down in every direction. In a few moments they wheel and flee to the four winds, with the exception of about thirty prisoners who are marched off to a vacant tent, and placed under guard till Monday, when they were tried, and fined to the utmost limits of the law. The old drunken magis- trate was fined with the rest, and cashiered. The mob being vanquished, the whole encampment, as might be expected, wore the aspect of mourning. There was no attempt to resume preaching till evening; and such was the confusion that no one was willing to preach even then. But Mr. felt his spirit stirred within him, and said to the elder, "I feel a clear con- science, for, under the circumstances, we have done right; and now I ask to let me preach." "Do," said the elder, "for there is no other man on the ground that can do it." The trumpet wa? blown, and there was a general rush to the stand. The preacher called upon them all to pray, if they ever prayed in their lives. He took for his text, "The gates of hell shall not prevail." Hia REV. JAMES B. FIN LEY. 829 voice was strong and clear, and his speech was encour- aging. In a few minutes the power of God fell won- drously upon the congregation; the people fell in ranks, and in all directions, and hundreds were presently like dead men on the field of battle. Loud wailings for mercy were heard from prostrate sinners, and a general shout of Christians rolled up on the evening air as the voice of many waters. The meeting lasted all night — all of Monday and Monday night, and two hundred souls were converted and joined the Church. A thousand other incidents, equally material and inter- esting, are related as to Mr. 's adventures in Ken- tucky and Illinois. Many of them are probably fictitious; but those genuine alone, if collected, would be sufficient to stock at least two volumes of romantic reality. Such was the backwoods preacher; and biography teaches us the mighty influences of circumstances in molding the characters and fixing the destinies of indi- vidual men. Had that splendid genius been cast on the tide of war or thrown into the fiery vortex of the revolutionary era, his name might have been a signal of doom to quaking nations, his renown might have blazed like a comet through all time. 330 A U T B I O Ct K A ,» a Y 01 CHAPTER XVIII. THE YOUNG MISSIONARY- AND THE ROBBER. The following account of a missionary from one ol Ok- eastern states, who bad completed his theological studies and received his commission to labor in the west, has been furnished me for publication. Like many who come from tlie east, he was wonderfully ignorant of the west. He had seen, occasionally, an article in some of the three or four religious pericdicals of that period, about the far west, and with a benevolent desire of doing good to the destitute and scattered pioneers of this remote and then scarcely-known region, had traveled on horseback from his native village, preaching on Sabbaths, as occasion offered, during his long journey. Ohio was then "said to be" a land of moral desolation; Indiana was "sup- posed" to be many degrees lower in the scale of civiliza- tion ; and the new state of Illinois was imagined to be sit- uated very near the jumping-off place. A vague and somewhat doubtful impression existed as to the locality and character of Missouri; and Kentucky was known abroad by report for its fighting and gouging propensities, while the population were characterized as "half-horse, half- alligator, and a touch of the snapping- turtle." Among the vague and rather indistinct impressions ot the character and habits of the frontier adventurers, that floated over the mind of the young missionary, were those of robbery and murders. During the period of inquiry and anxious meditation about devoting his life as a missionary of the cross, Itl the REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 33] wilds of the west, the idea of robbery and murder occu- pied no minor place in his imagination. Still, with com- mendable resolution, and a martyr spirit, he resolved tc hazard even life, with the sacrifice of every earthly com- fort, to preach the Gospel, and introduce the meliorating influences of civilization among a people who belonged to the same nation with himself, and who might eventually exert a controlling influence over the destinies of the republic. It was a cloudy and cold day in the month of Decem- ber, that our missionary friend was seen crossing an arm of the Grand Prairie, east of the Okau, as the Kaskaskia river by abbreviation — au Kas — and French accent had been called. He had traveled a long distance that day, by following a devious and obscure trail, or "bridle path," now through a skirt of timber, then across the point of a prairie, without seeing a log-cabin, or any other sign of a human residence. Kight was fast approaching. The landlord where he was accommodated with "private entertainment" the preceding night, had directed him on a "blind trail" to a fording place across the Okau, beyond which, and in the same direction, was the town of G , to which he was journeying. But horse and rider were fatigued with long fasting and a hard ride, and the mis- sionary could form no conjecture how far it might be from a settlement which he had hoped to reach before nightfall. Anxious, and somewhat bewildered, he looked in each direction for signs of a human habitation, when an un- couth specimen of humanity appeared on horseback, com- ing in a rapid movement, and a diagonal direction, across the prairie, toward the path of the missionary. As the man approached, his personal appearance, dress, and equipage, manifested no friendly design. His head was covered with the skin of the prairie wolf, with tail hangin" 332 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF behind. His filter garment was neither a coat, frock, nor Mowse. In western parlance, it was a hunting-shirt, made of dressed deer-skin, with the cape and side- strips curi- ously notched and fringed, but to the missionary it had an alarming aspect. Over it hung a powder-horn and bullet-pouch, and around his body was a leathern belt, in which was thrust a formidable knife. A loaded rifle carelessly lay across the rider's shoulders. Nor was his personal appearance in the least degree prepossessing. He sported a black beard of three weeks' growth, and dark, elfish locks of hair could be seen be- neath the skin-cap. His countenance, from constant ex- posure to the weather, was swarthy, and a rough, stalwart frame seemed, to the alarmed missionary, of gigantic pro- portions. It had braved the storms of more than forty winters. Every indication painted most vividly on the perturbed imagination of the missionary the danger that hung over him. The first impulse was to urge his horse into a flight. A second thought convinced him of the hopeless- ness of the attempt, and breathing a word of prayer to heaven for protection, he felt to submit to his fate, with a gleam of hope that the desperado, who was but a few yards from him, might, peradventure, spare his life. The salutation that struck on his ears, in a harsh, gut- tural voice, conveyed no consolation to his mind, and only served to increase his alarm. "Hallo, stranger! what are you about there? Where are you a riding?" The reply was given in the language of weakness and submission, and something was added, with indistinct utterance, about giving up his horse and equipments if his life might be spared. Learning, on further inquiry, that his route was across the river, to a settlement some REV. JAMES E. FINLEY. 006 fifteen or twenty miles distant, the supposed robber re- plied, in a voice by no means mild and attractive, " You can't get there to-night; besides the old ford is washed away, and you can not find the new one. I can fix you" The term "fix" had an ominous import; but the exact degree of outrage implied in this new form of speech was not very clearly understood by the missionary. But there was no alternative. He was alone and wholly unpro- tected; he was small in stature, of a slender make, had no weapons but spiritual ones, and successful resistance was hopeless. He knew not the path to the' river, and were he to attempt flight the death-dealing rifle might stop him. So he turned, as directed, into the trail, and followed the guide. As they slowly rode in " Indian file" through the tall grass, with points of timber and brush- wood for the space of two miles, the missionary drew a fancy picture, on his imagination, of a cave and a band of robbers, who would soon "fix" him or determine his fate. He breathed more freely when he found only a single cabin, a rough-looking stable for horses, and a cornfield of a few acres, with no signs of accomplices. "Light, stranger, and take your saddle-bags. I'll fix your horse." Taking his saddle-bags on his arms, as directed, he entered the cabin through a low door- way. Here was a woman and three children ; but their personal appearance • and dress might or might not indicate danger to the trav- eler. On her head was a covering of coarse cotton, called, in the language of a past generation, a " sun-bonnet." It nearly hid her face from human observation. Reaching forward a stool, the only salutation given was, "Take a seat by the fire, stranger." Recollecting what Ledyard and other travelers had said of the humanity and hospitality of the female sex, the missionary mu^ed on the probabilities of escaping with 334: AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF his life, feeling a degree of reconciliation to the 'oss of his horse, his saddle-bags, and the contents of his purse, which last contained but a few dollars for traveling ex« pen.:?*. In his saddle-bags were divers articles of a«p- parol which he could spare, and there was the pocket- Bible, the gift of a mother now in heaven, a hymn-book, and a small package of neatly-written sermons, which had cost him several months' labor, and, as he fancied, were admirably adapted to disperse the clouds of igno- rance that brooded over the inhabitants of Illinois. In the mean time, the settler, hunter, or robber, in whatever vocation he might appear, had replenished the fire with some logs of dry hickory, while the busy house- wife was preparing the homely meal. It consisted of fried venison-steak, corn-dodgers, and highly-flavored coffee, with the appurtenances of fresh cream and excellent butter. The missionary, who had eaten nothing since early dawn, and was cogitating whether feminine humanity would not afford him a morsel in the corner where he sat, was startled with the invitation, " Sit by, stranger, and take a bite." If surprise and gratitude were the first emotions, amazement followed, when the apparent robber implored the blessing of God in a sonorous voice, closing with an expressive amen. Bewildered and confused, the missionary forgot to eat, till repeatedly reminded by the now apparently-hospitable landlord and his kind-hearted wife that he did not eat. "Perhaps he was not used to such fare. Would he take a sup of milk?" He did not seem to regain his appetite till the officious housewife brought on her platter of honey, gathered from the hollow sycamore, and made divers apologies that her larder contained nothing he could eat. RtV. JAMES B . FINLEY. 335 After supper, the landlord commenced religious con- versation with the inquiry, "Are you a professing man, stranger?" The question relative to Church member- ship was propounded in a novel form, and did not convey to the mind of the missionaryexactly the idea intended. " You looked mightily sheered when I found you in the prairie. I reckon you were a sort of lost?" Still the replies were vague and confused, and it was not till the owner of the cabin, in a loud and animating tone, struck up the favorite hymn of the followers of Wesley — " A charge to keep I have, A God to glorify — A never-dying soul to save, And fit it for the sky " — in which his wife joined — that the minister was relieved from his perturbation, and could converse calmly. The hymn was followed by a characteristic prayer, in which the "stranger" was affectionately remembered at the throne of mercy, to which the wife responded with sev- eral audible groans. Conversation followed the evening obligation, during which the missionary disclosed his pro- fession and his object in traveling, and received due reproo f for his previous backwardness. But he had no; the heart to tell his fears and sufferings from the appre- hension of robbery and murder from a kind-hearted local Methodist preacher, in a backwoods disguise, who was the first man to preach the Gospel to the scattered population on the borders of the Grand Prairie, east of the Okau. Next morning the missionary led in prayer, and, after hii early breakfast, the hospitable preacher saddled hi§ own horse, with that of the missionary, and piloted him to th< "new" fording-place across the river, several miles in the direction toward G . Giving the parting hand, with a severe but affectionate 336 A l T OB I GG B A PH Y OF grasp, the valedictory was, " Now, stranger, you km:« where my cabin is; don't pass without giving me a call, and stay long enough to give the people a preach." The missionary found a field of labor in a new and growing village, among a population quite as intelligent and virtuous as the people of his native state, and a church edifice, a Sabbath school, and Bible class rose under his labors. The Methodist preacher, whom his brethren at quar- terly meeting never suspected of having been mistaken for a robber, in due time doffed his wolf-skin cap and leather hunting-shirt, became clad in cotton garments, spun and wove by his industrious wife, made a large farm, prepared spacious "camping ground " for the annual con- secrations, and witnessed the conversion of many sinner:: under his own labors. The missionary acknowledged to the writer, when lie revealed, in a somewhat confidential manner, the story of his fright, that he was but half educated when he came to Illinois. Both these men had their appropriate spheres of use- fulness, to which they were fitted by nature, habits, edu- cation, and grace, and both, many years since, received the plaudit, "Well done, thou good and faithful servanr, ''liter thou into the joy of thy Lord." REV. JAMES B. FIN LEY. 337 CHAPTER XIX. THE MARTYR PREACHER. The vows of God were on him. Hearing a voice which none else could hear, that called him to leave home, and kindred, and country, and seeing a hand which none else could see, that beckoned him onward, young Richmond Nolley bade adieu to all the endearments of a happy home, and entered the rough and toilsome field of itiner- ant life. Though he had a slender and delicate frame, and a feeble constitution, he did not stop to confer with flesh and blood, but, buckling on the harness as a faithful soldier, he went forth, at the command of his Master, to glorious war. He was one of nature's amiable children ; such a one, like Summerfield or Cookman, whom all must love. To know them is to love them. Innocent, amiable, unsuspecting, and guileless, their nature is lost in the great depths of humanity, and their whole life is one of self-sacrificing devotion to the interests of the human race. They live, like their divine Master, for others, and not for themselves. Name, and fame, and fortune, are all ignored in Christ, and they are a practical exemplifica- tion of the apostle's doctrine of self-consecration to God. Of such, a cold, covetous, selfish, mammon-loving world is not worthy ; and the wonder is not that they die early, but that God should allow them to stay here as long as they have been permitted to stay. I have a distinct and vivid recollection of the fate of Nolley. I was then but young myself in the ministry, and had passed through some rough and trying scenes in itinerant life; but in all <22 ?,;}$ A D T OBI GKAI'IIY OF my experience as a m'nis:er, I had heard of nothing like it. The impression made upon my mind was deep and powerful. His deep devotion, his youth, his delicate con- stitution, the circumstance of his dying alone and unat- tended in the wilderness, was like a ^vave of wormwood over my soul, rolling its bitterness. How did I wish that, instead of that frail form being exposed to the fatigues of that fatal journey, it had fallen to my lot, as one reared amid such scenes would have been likely to have survived the perilous mission. But I must not anticipate. The history of this young preacher is short, but full of inci- dent. lie was born in Virginia, though the date of his birth is not exactly known. At an early age his father removed to the state of Georgia. But little is known of his early life, except that he possessed those remarkable traits of charac- ter which were so fully developed in after life. About the year 1806 he was made the happy subject of the con- verting grace of God, and united himself with the Meth- odist Episcopal Church. It was not long after his conver- sion that the inward monitions of the Spirit were felt, urging him to enter his Lord's vineyard, and engage in the work of calling sinners to repentance. In matters of such solemn import, tha Spirit rarely moves upon the heart of the individual in advance of the impressions of the Church ; and he scarcely begins to feel it his duty to exhort sinners to flee the wrath to come, and be saved from their sins, before he is invited by the Church to ex- ercise his gifts. Some run before they are called. Of such are those who profess to be called of God to preach the Gospel, but who, notwithstanding all their efforts, can not convince the Church of that fact. Generally speak- ng, the voice of the Church is the voice of God, and what is done in her holy councils is ratified in heaven. It was soon discovered that young Nolley had a vow upon REV. JAMES B. FIN LEY. 339 him, and that to grace was added gifts which, if allowed to be properly exercised, would soon be productive of fruit to the honor and glory of God. One year after his conversion, he was admitted into the (raveling connection, and sent to Edisto circuit, in South Crri&ipa. So rapidly did the powers of this youthful her- ald of the cross develop themselves, that his next appoint- ment, being but the second year of his ministry, was in Wilmington, North Carolina; and the succeeding year to the more responsible station of the city of Charleston, the capital of South Carolina. A city life not proving congenial to his health, and the pastoral labors connected therewith being more than his frail constitution could bear, the next year we find him on Washington circuit, in the state of Georgia. In 1812, in compliance with the request of the bishop, he went on a mission to Tombecbee. After passing through a Avilder- ness of three hundred and fifty miles, embracing many savage nations, during which he was subjected to all kinds of hardships, such as swimming deep rivers and creeks, often destitute of food, sometimes lost in the depths of the forest, exposed to wild beasts or savage men, and lying out with nothing but the earth for his bed and the dark vault above for his covering, he at last arrived at the place of his destination. Here, on this distant and toilsome field, he spent two years in laboring most indefatigably for the glory of God and the advancement of the Redeemer's kingdom. Thou- sands would have lived and died in this frontier region, without having heard of salvation, had it not been for the hinerant system of a Church wdiich had the men of nerve to carry it out. And while the "successors of the apos- tles" were sitting in their ^as-liohted saloons, reclining on their rich velvet-cushioned Elizabethans, discoursing pathetically about the moral wastes of the west, and the 3-tO AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF inefficient ministry, Nolley and his coadjutors were carry- ing the bread of life to starving, dying thousands, and Deopling leaven with little less than the redeemed of hea- then lands. If Princeton, Yale, Union, and Rochester, were emptied to-day, and scattered among the destitute of our frontier settlements, how long do you think, gentle reader, it would take them to acquire the efficiency of a backwoods itinerant in getting souls converted to God ? On this mission, where appointments were as far apar' as conferences now are long, or as would embrace an en- tire circuit, he never lost an appointment. He nevei stopped for wet or cold. The invisible hand beckoned him onward, the inaudible voice urged him forward, and often without a horse he would take his saddle-bags on hit shoulders and walk to his appointments. In regard to the hours of sleep, he carried out to the letter the rules of the father of Methodism, and at early morn, while many were locked fast in the embrace of Morpheus, he was up with the lark, at his morning orisons. It is reported of him, that he most diligently instructed the children, in every pla^e — a duty, alas! too often neglected by many who have declared before God and the world that they would attend to it. The poor slave was not forgotten in his daily ministrations. Every day, almost, found him in the hut of the sable son and daughter of Africa, teaching them the religion of Christ, and the way to heaven; and had it not been for the labors of just such faithful men, "Uncle Tom's Cabin" would have been devoid of every element of interest. But not only did he instruct the children, and labor and pray with the slave, but at every house, among parents and masters, with the young and the old, the rich and the poor, the bond and the free, he endeav- ored to make full proof of his ministry by " warning every man, and teaching every man in all wisdom, that he might present every man perfect in Christ Jesus." REV. JAMES B. FINXEY. 341 In tliis gr. at work lie often met with opposition ; lie was threatened and execrated; but for revilings and persecu- tions he returned blessings, and his tears and prayers often disarmed persecution, and sent trembling to the stoutest heart. He was on the Tombccbee mission when the In- dian war raged with the most relentless fury, and the un- protected whites fell in every direction beneath the mur- derous tomahawk and scalping-knife of the savage. When the people had all taken refuge in forts, and were afraid to visit their plantations, the intrepid missionary, as if conscious of immortality till his work was done, unarmed and unattended, went from fort to fort, and preached the Gospel as a visiting angel of mercy. By these, and other acts of Christian kindness, he enthroned himself in the hearts of all the people, and his name will be a household word in time, while his deeds will live forever. His untiring zeal and devotion, which prompted him to many exposures, preyed heavily upon his delicate consti- tution, and it seemed, to all human appearance, that he must quit the itinerant field. Reduced almost to a shadow, with pale, attenuated features, he was found among his brethren at the conference, after the year's toil had ended. His dauntless spirit would not allow him to desist from labor, and seek that rest which was essential to his resto- ration. Determined, as it seemed, to run on and burn out, like the arrow of Ascestes, which took fire in its flight and vanished in the immensity of heaven, so he, as a flam- ing herald of the cross, oil fire of a quenchless zeal, pressed on to the. mark of the heavenly prize. Receiving an appointment on the Attakapas circuit, in the state of Louisiana, he entered upon the work, and for one year encountered toils and hardships which would have broken down a more rugged constitution. Still ne counted not his life dear to him ; but, in the midst of long and tedious rides, muddy and almost impassable roads, 342 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF deep waters, with weariness and faintness, villi fastings and watchings, he journeyed on. The peculiarity of the work made it necessary, in the estimation of the bishop, foi him to return to the circuit next year, and, without a murmur or a sigh, he started out again for his distant fie'id. • He was accompanied by a fellow-missionary across the Mississippi and through a vast swamp. The difficulties they had to encounter were almost incredible, and, coming to a place where they must separate, after embracing each other, with mutual benedictions, they parted. It was in the latter part of November, and it was a dark, cold, rainy day. Arriving at night at the house of a friendly man, where he staid till morning, imparting the comforts of religion to its inmates, he departed on his journey. Across his path there lay a large swamp and deep creeks, and not a single white man was to be found between that and the place of his destination. Alone he traveled on till evening, when he found himself at an Indian village. Having to cross a creek before night, and apprehending from the rains that it would be swollen, he employed an Indian to go with him. When he arrived on its banks, he found it, as he anticipated, a full and angry flood, rushing tumultuously along. There was no alternative but to cross or remain with the savages ; so he chose the former, and, leaving his valise, saddle-bags, and n parcel of books with the Indian, he urged his horse into the stream. No sooner did his noble charger strike the furious current than he was beaten down the flood. The noble animal battled courageously with the tide ; but be- fore the other shore was reached, horse and rider were far below the landing-place of the ford, and, the banks bring high and precipitous, it was impossible for the horse to gain a foothold or make the ascent of the other shore In the struggle to do so the rider was thrown, and, grasp- REV. JAMES E. FIN LET. 34o ing the limb of a tree which extended over the stream, he reached the shore. The horse swam back to the side of the stream from whence he started. Ti\e missionary directed the Indian to keep his horse till morning, and he would walk to the nearest house, which was distant about two miles. He traveled through the woods about one mile, wet, cold, and weary. Una- ble to proceed any further, and conscious, perhaps, that his work was done, and he had at last fulfilled the errand of his Master, he fell upon his knees* and commended his soul to God. There, in that wild wood of the far west, alone with his Master and the ministering* spirits that encamp around the saints, Richmond Nolley, the young missionary, closed his eyes on earth to open them in heaven. When he was found he was lying extended upon the wet leaves, his left hand upon his breast and the other lying by his side. His eyes were closed, and the gentle spirit left a smile upon his pallid cheek ere it passed away to that bright and beautiful world, where the wicked cease to trouble and the weary are at rest. The indentations made by his kuees were left on the ground close tj, V: mark the spot where he made his last prayer. 344 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF CHAPTER XX. ITINERANT LIFE CONTINUED. The Steubenville conference of 1818 lasted eight days, and was a most interesting season. I was reappointed to the Ohio district, and, after conference, started with my brethren to my field of labor. All the preachers seemed disposed to do and suffer the will of God in the discharge of the duties growing out of their vocation. For some years Bishop M'Kendree had been interested in the various tribes of Indians, and was anxious to have missions established among them. A work of grace hav ing commenced among the Wyandotts, at Upper San- dusky, through the instrumentality of a colored exhorter — J. Stewart — the Bishop made an engagement with my brother, John P. Finley, to go among them and teach the youth to read and write, and to preach to the adults. Brother Montgomery was appointed to labor among the Indians in company with Stewart, and for his support a collection was taken up of five and ten dollars from the preachers. At this conference the Bishop asked me if I would not go there and labor as a missionary. I remarked that I did not think I had the necessary qualifications, and that there were others who would do vastly better. 1 thought I had not sufficient patience to teach school. After some further conversation on the subject we parted, but not without a strong impression made upon my mind by the remarks of the Bishop, that at some future day U was his intention to send me to that work. We had a fine time on the district during the winter. The area of ImmanueFs kingdom was enlarged. As fast EEY. JAMES B. FIN LET. 345 as the people moved into the country the preachers vis- ited them, and soon as they had their cabins reared, they commenced preaching and forming societies. The camp meetings during the latter part of the year were attended with success. In many places the novelty of such scenes as are presented by worshiping God in the grove attracted the attention of many, and produced a good impression. But few can look upon a camp meeting scene and not be moved. Such a scene as is presented by an encampment at night, to one who has never witnessed any thing like it before, must be impressive. To look upon the long ranges of tents surrounding a large area, in each corner of which bright fires are lighted up, and then from tent and tree to see innumerable lamps hung out, casting their lights among the branches and illuminating all the ground, would remind one of the descriptions given of an oriental wedding scene, when, at midnight, the cry is heard, "Be- hold, the bridegroom cometh ! Go ye forth to meet him." Then the sound of the trumpet, and the gathering to- gether of thousands, who pass to and fro with lights and torches, all has a tendency to awaken the most solemn reflections. And when the holy song rises from a thou- sand voices, and floats out upon the stillness of the night air, the listener must feel that surely such a place is holy ground. These camp meetings were seasons of special mercy to thousands, and many who came to curse re- mained to pray for salvation and seek an interest in the blessed Savior. The conference this year met in Cincinnati, August 7, 1819. Many of the fathers of our Israel were with us. These holy shepherds, having been traveling extensively in the intervals of conference, passing through the circuits, and stations, and districts, proclaiming salvation, meeting classes, attending love-feasts, and stimulating the youngei preachers in their work, kindled a flame of love to God in 310 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF every heart. The itinerants caught the holy fire, and thus, newly baptized with the unction from above, went out with fresh zeal into the vineyard of their Lord. These backwoods bishops traveled from Maine to Georgia and from the Atlantic to the Mississippi, on the farthest bounds of western population, encountering every hard- ship; and their annual visits were looked for by preachers and people, saint and sinner, with the greatest anxiety and pleasure. Nothing occurred at this conference to mar the' peace and harmony which prevailed in the itinerant ranks. Delegates were elected to the General conference which was to be held in the following May, and, the business being finished, each preacher started to his field of labor. This year I was appointed to the Lebanon district, which was bounded as follows ; namely, on the south by the Ohio river and on the north by the lakes, including all the territory in Michigan. My district included the Indian mission at Upper Sandusky; and, although the mission is not named in the Minutes of that year, I was nevertheless chosen as superintendent. I made an appointment for a quarterly meeting for this mission at Zanesfield, on the waters of Mad river, the 13th and 14th of November See Methodist Magazine, 1820, page 35. Here the reader will find an account of the first quarterly meeting evei held among the Indians. I commenced my work by attending two camp meet- ings, one of which was six miles west of Springfield. This was a local preachers' camp meeting, at which there were present, I think, about twenty local preachers. As radicalism had begun to show itself, there was a consider- able of prejudice against the traveling preachers. Brother John Strange, of blessed memory, was my conductor; and he remarked to me on the way, that it was highly probable we would meet with a cool reception, as the local brethren REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 347 were very much prejudiced against my predecessor. However, we journeyed on, and arrived at the camp- ground on Friday afternoon. We said but little to any one. On Saturday afternoon brother Joseph Tatman was deputed to take me aside and examine me in regard to my views of Church government. He attended to his duty in a very Christian manner, and I presume the ex- positions I gave him of Methodist polity were satisfactory, as I was waited upon, and invited to preach on Sabbath at eleven o'clock. The preaching hour arrived, and I was enabled to preach with liberty. The Lord attended the. word, and many were awakened and converted to God before the exercises connected with that hour closed. From that time I witnessed nothing but the kindest feeling toward me. The next Saturday and Sabbath the camp meeting com- menced at Mechanicsburg, and this was a time of the greatest display of God's power in the awakening and conversion of sinners. After this I commenced my round of quarterly meetings. At every meeting I set myself to work to find out the exact state of relioion amono- the offi- ciary ; and, to enable me more fully to do so, I took a list of all the names, and went into a regular class meeting examination. This was a novel procedure, but it was made a great blessing to every official member, and before I had passed around my district twice, it was all on fire. 0, what blessed times! The fire was soon carried out by preachers, exhorters, leaders, and stewards, and by spring the whole Church throughout the vast field of my labor was in a blaze. )i(l& hi the month of April I left for General conference, which was to be held in Baltimore, in company with brother John Collins. After twelve days of hard riding, we reached the seat of the conference, which commenced 343 AUTOBIOGEArilY OF its session the first of May. As conference progressed, i1 was discoverable that there existed, unhappily, some dis- cordant elements in the body. The east seemed to be arrayed against slavery, and the south against pewed churches. There was also another question which was cf a somewhat exciting character, and which appeared to carry every thing before it. I allude to the election of presiding elders. A resolution proposing a change of the Discipline, so as to make the office of presiding elder elect- ive, was offered by the Rev. Daniel Ostrander, and the resolution was discussed with great zeal and ability. The conference seemed so equally divided, it was hard to tell which side would gain the victory. The bishops and pre- siding elders were mostly committed to the old plan of ap- pointing presiding elders ; and as the latter usually con- stituted the delegation, there was a prospect of the rule being retained; but so vigorously did the friends of the new measure contend for a change which they deemed most in accordance with the genius of American Method- ism, that it was confidently hoped they would succeed. Before coming to a vote, a compromise was proposed by ihe Rev. Ezckiel Cooper, of the Philadelphia conference, that there should be a committee of nine appointed to consult and report. This committee reported, that in the appointment of presiding elders, the bishop should have the power to nominate two or three men for each district, and the conference should choose from among these the presiding elder. This report passed by a large majority. Rev. Joshua Soule, who had been elected bishop previous to this action, refused to be ordained, unless the confer- ence would reverse its action. The reason he gave was, that in his opinion the action of the conference was uncon- stitutional, and he could not administer discipline undei it Bishop M'Kendree, who was unwell, and was not in conference at the time of the passage of the report, camo REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 340 iii afterward with a strong remonstrance against it, and hoped the conference would not urge its operation till it had been sent round to all the conferences, and its consti- tutionality decided. After debating the question of refer- ence for two or three days, it was, finally, by a very smali majority, suspended for four years. At this conference the rule was adopted which required Methodist churches to be built with free seats. This was a quite exciting topic. When the question was raised whether the rule should be advisory or mandatory, it was decided that it should only be regarded as advisory, and, hence, such a caption was given to it. I recollect dis- tinctly hearing the Rev. D. Ostrander say, in open confer- ence, that it would hot be twenty years before, under that very rule, some conference would restrict the stationing power. And I have lived to see the fulfillment of that prophecy, in the action of the Ohio conference of 1850 at Chilicothe. The General conference having adjourned, we back- woods preachers directed our course homeward, and wend- ing our way over the mountains, we reached once more the delightful valleys of the west. We wound up our year's work with a round of camp meetings. Some of these were attended with unusual manifestations of Divine power. Of such were Rattle- snake, Honey creek, and Union camp meetings. At the latter we had the services of our beloved superintendents, M'Kendree and Roberts. The gathering of the people was immense. They came together in the spirit of prayer, and not for the purpose of making a display, such as might be called a religious picnic, where families vie with each other in showing off to the best advantage, but to worship God exclusively, without any regard to " visits, modes, and forms." And such realized the desire of Lheir hearts. The work commenced at once, and continued 350 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF dav and night with increasing power, and over one him dred and fifty were soundly converted to God. Milforc' camp meeting- was also a time of great power, there w« a mighty shaking among the dry bones. A leader of infi- delity, renowned for his advocacy of error, was awakened and converted, and sent out by the Spirit to bear testi- mony to the truth of that religion which he had reviled White-oak camp meeting was held at Indian hill, and was the most powerful one I had attended on the district How many were converted I am not able to say, but the number was large. On Sabbath T baptized one hundred persons before nine o'clock, by sprinkling and pouring. Brother G. \V. Light wrote down the names as I an- nounced them, and gave them to me. Among the num- ber is the name of our beloved and lamented William B. Christie, of whom I intend saying something hereafter. The Revs. Augustus Eddy and Charles W. Swain, both young preachers just entering upon their ministerial life, were at this meeting. Strait creek camp meeting was held soon after, and was attended with mighty power. On Sabbath morning, while brother John Collins was praying, the Holy Spirit came down on us as a rushing, mighty wind, and more than one hundred fell under the power of God; and such a time of weeping and rejoicing I never saw before. We were much annoyed by the rabble, who were set upon us by men professing to wear the garb of Christian ministers, but more frequently by the whisky-makers and vender* themselves. Few men, in their sober senses, could b< induced to disgrace themselves by interrupting the wor ship of God, and those few must be besotted and imbru ted to a degree past recovery, who would cut to pieces the harness, saddles, bridles, tents, etc., of the worshipers and howl around the encampment like skulking wolves Such creatures were sometimes handled pretty roughly bv REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 351 the conservators of the peace, and they learned often, by sad experience, that the way of the transgressor was hard. I was solicited this year to send a minister to Detroit. After some considerable difficulty, I obtained Rev. P. B Morey, and sent him, with instructions to gather up the scattered members, and form the nucleus of a circuit. Brother Hecock, from Upper Canada, had been laboring two years in the shore settlements, among the destitute population. Brother Morey returned, and brought with him a plan of his circuit; but having contracted the fever and ao-ue, he was unwilling to qo back. The conference this year was held in Chilicothe, and we were favored with the presence of all our bishops, M'Ken- drce, Roberts, and George. The session was character- ized with great harmony, and the conference business was transacted with great dispatch. The increase in the mem- bership in the Ohio conference this year, was five thou- sand, nine hundred and twenty-two. At this conference I was returned to the Lebanon dis- trict, and my range was from the Ohio river to the lakes, including Detroit and the new settlements on the penin- sula, besides the Wyandott mission. The Rev. John P. Kent was sent to Detroit circuit, which extended from the Maumee Rapids to Lake St. Clair. It was late in the fall when I left the white settlements to attend my first quarterly meeting at the Maumee Rap- ids. There was not a single habitation of a white man from the old Indian boundary on the Scioto till we reached the Rapids. In this route there were three Indian settle- ments— Upper Sandusky, Big Spring, and Tawawatown, on a branch of the Carrion river. Through this wilder- ness I urged my way. I had a dismal journey through the Black Swamp. Two nights I lay out in the woods, during all which time I did not see the face of a human being. By the help of God I at length reached my 352 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF Appointment. How changed the country and inhabitants since I passed through in 1800 with the drove of cattle! From a wild, desolate region, where savages roamed, now could be seen fruitful farms, where could be found peace- ful Christian families, in whose houses were erected altars to the God of the Bible. I was hailed, by preacher and people, with gladness, as one that bringeth glad tidings to the ends of the earth. I had the honor of being the first presiding elder that set his foot on the Miami of the lakes, and had the privilege of holding the first quarterly meeting, love-feast, or sacramental meeting ever held in this now densely-populated country. Our meeting com- menced under the most favorable auspices. The few who came together — and there were some who had come the distance of seventy-five miles — sat together in heavenly places in our Lord Jesus Christ. The banner of Divine love was spread over us. Our meeting commenced on Friday night and continued till Tuesday morning. Sev- eral professed religion and joined the Church. The breth- ren were much refreshed and built up in holy faith. After visiting many of the settlements, I returned through the wilderness to the Big Spring, where I held a meeting with the Wyandotts. Here the subject of a mission school was taken under consideration by the principal men of the nation ; and they had been encouraged to think they might have two — one at Ujsper Sandusky and the other at this place. I showed them the impractica- bility of organizing two schools, in consequence of the expense attending them, and that they must send their children all to one place. We had a very pleasant and profitable meeting; but no kind of Church organization. All were permitted to join in the exercises who felt dis- posed. The religion of the natives seemed to bo a kind of national religion. There being no Church organiza- tion and no rules of discipline, none were called to an EEV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 353 account for disorderly conduct. It was perfectly obvious to me, in this state of things, that we would be \mable, as a Church, to accomplish much of any consequence un- less we could organize the Indians into a Church and ad- minister all the ordinances of religion and all the rules of Discipline. During the winter the work progressed most gloriously on the district, and multitudes were converted to God. In the spring I started for the purpose of visiting more thoroughly my Detroit charge. The trip was a very ad- venturous one. When I arrived at Lower Sandusky the summer freshet was at its highest. I traveled alone to the Muscalange creek, and the water covered the entire valley from hill to hill. Unable to proceed any further, 1 went back to the town at Lower Sandusky, and hired a Frenchman to pilot me through to the rapids of the Mail- mee. When he came to the creek he said it was impossi- ble for us to get through ; so we returned, and I directed my course up the river to Fort Ball. Leaving my horse with a friend, I hired two young Indians to take me to the mouth of the river in a bark canoe, so that I might at this point get on board the steamer Walk-in-the-Water on Friday morning. Setting sail in our frail canoe, we darted down the rapid river, and, when we came to the Sandusky Falls, we sped over them like a bird. Night overtaking us be- fore we reached the mouth of the river, we concluded io tarry all night with an old Frenchman by the name of Poscile, who occupied a miserable shanty on the bank, and lived principally on muskrats. The place was dread- fully infested with fleas and musketoes. My comrades joined in partaking of our host's hospitalities; but I was not sufficiently -hunger-bitten to eat muskrats. To pro- tect myself from the foes which swarmed around me I sai all night on a box. When daylight came we pushed off 23 354 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF our canoe and paddled on. As we reached the bay we found the wind blowing fresh from land and the waves rolling too high for our little bark. The bay was five miles wide, and, notwithstanding the boisterous weather, the Indians were for going directly across. To this I objected ; and we finally agreed to take the east side and coast around. Several times our canoe filled with water, and we had to run ashore, pull it out, and turn it over- then relaunching, put to sea again. A more serious dis- aster befell us when we got within two hundred yards of the shore at Goat Island. A sudden squall upset our bark, plunging us all in the deep. Being unable to right up our vessel without something more substantial than water on which to rest our leverage, we swam with our boat to the shore. Here we took our canoe on our shoulders, and carrying it about a mile, we launched again and re-embarked. We paddled on, battling with the waves, and finally arrived within four miles of Portland. Taking my saddle-bags on my shoulder, I walked to town, almost exhausted for the want of something to eat. Here I stopped at a tavern, and, ordering a room with a fire, I emptied my saddle-bags, and, spreading their contents, with my clothes, before it, went to bed and slept till the sun arose next morning. Getting up, I found all my things tolerably well dried, except my books, and, aftei taking my breakfast, I got on board the boat, and arrived at Detroit on Saturday morning, where I put up with my old friend, Mr. Jeremiah Dean. At this place I received a letter from brother Kent, informing me of his sickness at the Rapids, and his inability to be with me. In that letter he informed me that he had given out appointments tor me every day during the week, except Saturday and Monday. Thus you see, dear reader, I ha^d work enough. The weather was excessively hot; but, notwithstanding, we commenced our meetings. Having no church, w« KEV. JAMES B. FINLEY 355 worshiped in the old council-house, and the Lord was with us of a truth. Governor Cass, my old friend, treated me with great respect and hospitality, and also his esti- mable lady. Indeed, God seemed to give me favor in the eyes of all the people. The soldiers who were stationed here treated me with much respect, and many of them were awakened under preaching. Of all places in the world, a military station is the most unfavorable to relig- ion ; and hence there was but little fruit manifested. Sev- eral came forward for prayers and were converted to God. Had not appointments been given out for me, the meeting could have been kept up all the week to great advantage. Brother Abbott furnished me a horse, and I started on Tuesday to fill the appointments which had been made. That day I preached twice, and swam the river Ruse three times. I then went to two or three places out north and preached as far as Pontiac. Returning to Detroit, I spent another Sabbath of great interest and profit to my- self and many others. My soul was much united to the dear people; for they seemed to be as sheep without a shepherd. On Monday I left for Upper Sandusky. When I arrived at Portland there was no conveyance for me to Lower Sandusky. After considerable search I found an Indian, whose horse I hired. The plan was for me to ride and the Indian to walk or run, as the case might be. Accordingly we started. The Indian would run on ahead in a long trot, and then, stopping, he would say, "Good horse; how much you give for him?" I would tell him I did not want to buy. He would then run on again a mile or two, and, stopping, would ask the same question. This he continued till, becoming tired of his questions, I told him I had no money. "You lie," said he, pointing to my saddle-bags. Then said he. "How much you give?" I said, "May be ten dollars." Becoming incensed at this, he exclaimed, "You rascal 1 356 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF you Kaintuck! you rascal! you cheat Indian!" Short]) after this we came within hearing of several camps of Indians. As we advanced we found them in a drunken spree, singing, dancing, and hallooing as if all bedlam had broke loose. He asked me to turn in here and gel some "lum." "No," said I, "you come on." "No: me go, and quick come." As soon as he was gone I cut a stout hickory stick and put the Indian pony to his best. Soon I heard the Indian yelling behind me ; but he was not able to overtake me till I reached Lower Sandusky. When he came up he commenced abusing me and charg- ing me with a disposition to run off with his horse. 1 told him he must stop his abuse, as I would have no more of it. " Did I not give one dollar for the use of your horse?" " Yes." "Well," said I, "here is a half dollar besides, to get your dinner with." At this he turned his tune, and said, "You good man; you no Kain- tuck ; you my friend !" From this place I got a conveyance to Fort Ball, where I found my horse, and traveled on to the Reservation, where I met the chiefs and principal men and women of the Wyandott nation. I drew up a petition for them to send to conference, which was to be held at Lebanon. Vide History of the Wyandott Mission. This year brother Morey was admitted on trial into the traveling connection, and appointed to Detroit circuit, where he promised great usefulness to the Church ; but it pleased Him who holds the stars in his right hand, to call him from labor to reward. The Minutes of this year show an increase in the conference of one thousand, six hundred and three. This was one of the best years of my itiner- ant life. A petition was sent this year to the bishops for nn; to be stationed at Detroit. This petition was signed by Gjv. Cass, the Messrs. Hunts, and principal citizens. In the petition they pledged themselves to pay all the KEV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 357 expenses, and support me, besides building a church. It was confidently believed by them, that their prayer would be heard; but Bishop M'Kendree thought the Indian mis- sion of more consequence than Detroit, or any other place that might want me. Bishop Roberts was in favor of sending me to Detroit, and the matter continued in sus- pense till late in the conference. My own judgment and feelings led me to Detroit, because I believed that at that time all the English inhabitants of the place would have joined the Church. But the senior bishop prevailed, and I was sent among the Indians. With regard to my mov- ing to Sandusky, and my labors connected with the Wyan- dott Indians, I need only say, that the reader can refer to the work on the Wyandott mission, and to the Magazines of '22, '23, '24, etc. These, however, give but a brief history of my labors and trials. Much is unwritten, but I hope to furnish some things in this biography which are worthy of remembrance, and full of incident. In the fifth volume of the Methodist Magazine, you will find a letter to Rev. J. Soule, which will give some account of my removal. There being no missionary funds at that day to furnish an outfit to the missionary, I left home in Warren county the eighth of October, with two wagon-loads of household goods, farming utensils, and other needful apparatus for the commencement of my work, ^.fter eight days' hard traveling, we arrived at the Indian nation, and took shel ter in a cabin newly raised, without chinking or daubing, destitute of either chimney, window, or door. Here my family had to live till I could build one. There were six in the mission family — two young women, two young men 1 had hired, and myself and wife. I went to work to build a cabin for the winter. The first week three of my hired hands left me. Another calamity happened. While we were cutting down a tree for a house-log, a limb struck 358 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF brother George Riley on the head, and I thought Mii dead for some time. Placing him on the wagon, I drove three-quarters of a mile, and then bled him before he re- vived. All alone I worked every day, from daylight tili dark, till my hands were so sorely blistered I could not sleep at night. The marks of my fingers were left on the timbers and logs from the blood which flowed all day. In the course of a week brother Riley was. able to help me. On Sabbaths I preached at the council-house, and held class meetings with all who would stay. On the fourth of November we moved into our winter cabin, without window or door, but we hung a blanket up for a shelter. Soon as we took possession of our new home, a widow, who had no means of sustaining her Indian children, pre- sented us with four. We could not refuse to take these poor children of the forest, thus thrown by Providence upon us. Sister Harriet Stubbs, of blessed memory, volunteered to leave as peaceful and happy a home as could be found in the state, with every thing to make her happy, and be- come the matron and instructor of the poorest of the poor outcasts, trodden under foot by vicious white men. She was a sister-in-law of the Hon. Judge M'Lean, of Ohio; and although reared in the tenderest manner, yet she for- sook all the advantages and blessings her station in life secured, and espousing the cause of God's poor, fled to ihe relief of suffering humanity. She possessed more courage and fortitude than any one of her age and sex, that I have been acquainted with. It was but a short time till she, the intrepid female missionary, was the idol of the whole nation. They looked upon her as an angel- messenger, sent from the spii it-land to teach them the way to heaven. They called her the pretty red-bird, and were only happy in the light of her smiles. This most Hmiable young lady took charge of the Indian girls, and REV. JAMES B. FINLET. began to teach them their letters, and infuse into them hei own sweet and happy spirit. As spring came, some of the girls were so far advanced as to read and speak English tolerably well. No sight was more calculated to affect the heart than to see that young, lovely, and accomplished girl surrounded by In- dian maidens, gazing into her deep-blue eyes, and read- ing the love that glowed there for them, and hanging with breathless attention upon her lips, as she endeavored to cultivate the powers of these children of the forest, and lead them up to the civilization of Christianity. We spent the winter in making preparations for building a house for the family and the school. All this we did ourselves. We did not make the Indians our hewers of wood and drawers of water. So constantly was I en- gaged, that I did not eat a single meal of victuals by the light of the sun, except on Sabbath, during the whole winter. We first cut our logs, then hauled them to the saw-mill, where we staid day and night and sawed our lumber. Brother Riley sawed all day, and I hauled the lumber home on a wagon with two yoke of oxen ; and, after returning, we sat up and sawed alternately all night. So we continued till we had all the lumber we wanted to build a house twenty-four by forty-five feet, and two sto- ries high. In the spring I hired the splitting and putting up of ten thousand rails, and also hired two hands to put in our spring crop. Our school, in the mean time, increased to thirteen children ; but, as yet, we had no school-house. Our beloved sister had a booth made in the yard, where she taught her little flock daily. While we were doing all we could to lay the foundation for a large school by which to instruct the nation, we also labored to bring them to God. It required great wisdom to manage affairs so aa not to prejudice the Indians. All the savage part of the 360 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP nation were laboring hard to keep them in the Indian faith, and every effort was made to get those who had made a profession of religion to go back to heathenism. In addition to this, whisky-sellers were increasing to an alarming extent, and I saw it was necessary to have a more thoroughly-organized state of society to resist these encroachments. So I resolved, in direct opposition to some of the friends of the mission, to form a society on Methodist principles. I accordingly drew up a few arti- cles in reference to attending meeting, family and private prayer, the observance of the Sabbath, and total absti- nence from all intoxicating liquors. These things I ex- plained so fully that they were perfectly understood ; and then I made an effort to form a class, which resulted only in bringing out seven who were willing to live by rule. The temperance rule made a great stir among the whisky- traders, and they tried to convince the Indians that in thus putting their names on paper, they had signed away their Indian liberty, and had become the slaves of the white man. The lines, however, were drawn, and the national religion, which allowed a man to be drunk one day and very religious the next, was entirely broken up. The head chief and his secretary of war, Warpole, com menced holding meetings every Sabbath, for the purpos< of worshiping their Indian god. Their ceremonies con* sisted in dancing, feasting, drinking, and their chief-priest was called upon to preach or rehearse the traditions of their Indian god, and the mighty works aiiu wonderful words of their ancient warriors in the day of battle. This at first drew many to worship with them. The next Sab- bath I expounded my rules, showed the beneficial effects thev must produce if faithfully kept, and then opened the ' doors of the Church. That day ten more joined — all oi them of the most influential of the nation. Four of them were principal chiefs, Between-the-Logs, Mononcue, Hickts, KEV. JAMES B. FINLEY. # 36'1 and Peacock. This separation gave an impulse to the Christian party, and caused many to investigate religion. The old faith was shaken. At one time I was sent for in the afternoon to go in haste to Between-the-Logs. When I arrived I found the parties had met to investigate the religion of the Bible. After a few Indian ceremonies, such as eating hominy and smoking, the subject was intro- duced by Bloody-Eyes, a notorious old drunkard. It lasted all night and till nine o'clock the next morning, when the council broke. It would take a small volume to communicate the transactions of that night. The speeches of some of these sons of the forest were truly wonderful. But suffice it to say that my adversaries, particularly the old chief, confessed themselves headed l£» every proposition. 31 362 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF CHAPTER XXI. GREAT REVIVAL IN THE WEST. In the spring of 1800 one of the most astonishing and powerful revivals occurred that has ever been known in the western country. This was also the most extensive revival that perhaps ever was witnessed in this country. It was marked by some peculiarities which had not been Known to characterize any revival in former times. The nearest approximation to it, of which I can form any con- ception, was the revival on the day of pentecost, when tbousands were awakened and converted to God under the most exciting circumstances. The commencement of the revival is traceable to the joint labors of two brothers in Cumberland county, Ken- tucky, one of whom was a Presbyterian and the other a Methodist preacher. They commenced laboring together, every Sabbath preaching, exhorting, and praying alter- nately. This union was regarded as quite singular, and excited the curiosity of vast multitudes, who came to the places of meeting to hear two men preach who held views in theology supposed to be entirely antagonistic. Nothing was discoverable in their preaching of a doctrinal charac- ter, except the doctrine of man's total depravity and ruin by sin, and his recovery therefrom by faith in Christ. All were exhorted to flee the wrath to come, and be saved from their sins. The word which they preached was attended with the power of God to the hearts of listening thousands. The multitudes who flocked from all parts of the country to hear them, became so vast that no church would hold them, and they were obliged to resort to the REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 363 Sulci? and woods. Every vehicle was put in requisition ; carnages, wagons, carts and sleds. Many came on horse- back, and larger crowds still came on foot. As the excitement increased, and the work of convic- tion and conversion continued, several brought tents, which they pitched on the ground, and' remained day and .night for many days. The reader will here find the origin of camp meetings. In the spring of 1801 Bishop M'Kendree was appointed presiding elder of the Kentucky district; and being thus brought in contact with this wonderful work, he was pre- pared to form a correct judgment of its character. That there were extravagances that constituted no pavt of relig- ion, he was prepared to admit, but that it was all a wild, fanatical delusion, he was very far from conceding. Nay, he believed that it was the work of God's Spirit on the hearts of the people, and that thousands were genuinely converted to God. These meetings began to follow one another- in quick succession, and the numbers which attended were almost incredible. While the meetings lasted, crowds were to be seen in all directions, passing and repassing the roads and paths, while the woods seemed to be alive with people Whole settlements appeared to be vacated, and only here and there could be found a house having an inhabitant. All ages, sexes, and conditions, pressed their way to the camp meeting. At these meetings the Presbyterians and Methodists united. They were held at different places. On the 22d of May, 1801, one was held at Cabin creek; the r.sxt was held at Concord, in one of my fa/her's old congregations; the next was at Point Pleasant, and the succeeding one at Indian creek, in Harrison county. At these meetings thousands fell under the power of God, and cried for mercy. The scenes which successively occurred ftt these meetings were awfully sublime, and a genera. 364 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF terror seemed to have pervaded the minds of all peopie within the reach of their influences. The great general camp meeting was held at Cane Ridge meeting-house. This house was built for my father, and here was my old home. I have elsewhere described this meeting, or, rather, attempted to do so. Language is utterly impuissant to convey any thing like an adequate idea of the sublimity and grandeur of the scene. Twenty thousand persons tossed to and fro, like the tumultuous waves of the sea in a storm, or swept down like the trees of the forest under the blast of the wild tornado, was a sight which mine own eyes witnessed, but which neither my pen nor tongue can describe. During the religious exercises within the encampment, all manner of wickedness was going on without. So deep and awful is man's depravity, that he will sport while the very fires of perdition are kindling around him. Men, furious with the effects of the maddening bowl, would outrage all decency by their conduct ; and some, mounted on horses, would ride at full speed among the people. I saw one, who seemed to be a leader and champion of the party, on a large, white horse, ride furiously into the pray- ing circle, uttering the most horrid imprecations. Sud- denly, as if smitten by lightning, he fell from his horse. At this a shout went up from the religious multitude, as if Lucifer himself had fallen. I trembled, for I feared God had killed the bold and daring blasphemer. He exhibited no sio-ns whatever of life ; his limbs were rmid, his wrists pulseless, and his breath gone. Several of his comrades came to see him, but they did not gaze long till the power of God came upon them, and they fell like men slain in battle. I was much alarmed, but I had a great desire to see the issue. I watched him closely, while for thirty hours he lay, to all human appearance, dead. During iris time the people kept up singing and praying. At last KEY. JAMES B. FINLEY. 36ft he exhibited signs of life, but they were fearful spasms, which seemed as if he were in a convulsive fit, attended by frightful groans, as if he were passing through the intensest agony. It was not long, however, till his con- vulsions ceased, and springing" to his feet, his groans were converted into loud and joyous shouts of praise. The dark, fietd-like scowl which overspread his features, gave way to a happy smile, which lighted up his countenance. A certain Dr. P., accompanied by a lady from Lexing- ton, was induced, out of mere curiosity, to attend the meeting. As they had heard much about the involuntary jerkings and falling which attended the exercises, they entered into an agreement between themselves that, should either of them be thus strangely attacked or fall, the other was to stand by to the last. It was not long till the lady was brought down in all her pride, a poor sinner in the dust, before her God. The Doctor, agitated, came up and felt for her pulse ; but, alas ! her pulse was gone. At this he turned pale, and, staggering a few paces, he fell beneath the power of the same invisible hand. After remaining for some time in this state, they both obtained pardon and peace and went rejoicing home. They both lived and died happy Christians. Thousands were affected in the same way. These camp meetings continued for some time, the Presbyterians and Methodists uniting together as one in the army of the Lord. Some ministers had serious doubts concerning the character of the work; but its genuineness was demonstrated by the fruits. Men of the most depraved hearts and vicious habits were made new creatures, and a whole life of virtue subsequently con- firmed the conversion. To all but Methodists the work was entirely strange. Some of the peculiarities had h«en witnessed before by the preachers, and they were enabled to carry it on. 366 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF These meetings exhibited nothing to the spectator un- acquainted with them but a scene of confusion, such as scarcely could be put into human language. They were generally opened with a sermon or exhortation, at the close of which there would be a universal cry for mercy, some bursting forth in loud ejaculations of prayer 01 thanksgiving for the truth ; some breaking forth in strong and powerful exhortations, others flying to their careless friends with tears of compassion, entreating them to fly to Christ for mercy ; some, struck with terror and conviction, hastening through the crowd to escape, or pulling away from their relations, others trembling, weeping, crying for mercy; some falling and swooning away, till every ap- pearance of life was gone and the extremities of the body assumed the coldness of death. These were surrounded with a company of the pious, singing melodious songs adapted to the time, and praying for their conversion. But there were others collected in circles round this vari- egated scene, contending for and against the work. Many circumstances transpired that are worthy of note in reference to this work. Children were often made the instruments through which the Lord wrought. At one of these powerful displays of Divine power, a boy about ten years old broke from the stand in time of preaching under very strong impressions, and having mounted a loo- at some distance, and raising his voice in a most affecting manner, cried out, "On the last day of the feast Jesus stood and cried, If any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink." He attracted the main body of the congregation, and, with streaming eyes, he warned the sinners of their danger, denouncing their doom, if they persevered in sin, and strongly expressed his love for the salvation of their souls, and the desire that they would turn *.o God and live. By this time the press was so great that he was taken up by two m)n and held above the REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 36? crowd. He spoke for near an hour with that convincing eloquence that could be inspired only from heaven, and when exhausted, and language failed to describe the feel- ings of his soul, he raised his handkerchief, and dropping it, cried, '* Thus, sinner," will you drop into hell unless you forsake your sins and turn to God." At this moment the power of God fell upon the assembly, and sinners felj as men slain in mighty battle, and the cries for mercy seemed as though they would rend the heavens, and the work spread in a manner which human language can not describe. We will now try to give something in reference to the manner and the exercise of mind of those who were the subjects of this work. Immediately before they became totally powerless, they were sometimes seized with a gen- eral tremor, and often uttered several piercing shrieks in the moment of falling. Men and women never fell when under this jerking exercise till they became exhausted Some were unable to stand, and yet had the use of then bands and could converse with companions. Others were unable to speak. The pulse became weak, and they drew a difficult breath about once a minute. In many instances they became cold. Breathing, pulsation, and all signs of life forsook them for hours ; yet I never heard of one who died in this condition, and I have conversed with persons who have laid in this situation for many hours, and they have uniformly testified that they had no bodily pain, ana that they had the entire use of their reason and powers of mind. From this it appears that their falling was neither common fainting nor a nervous affection. Indeed, this strange work appears to have taken every possible turn to baffle the conjectures and philosophizing of those who were unwilling to acknowledge it was the work of God. Persons have fallen on their way home from meet ing, some after they had arrived at home, others pursuing 368 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF their common business on their farms, and others when they were attending to family or secret devotions. Num- bers of thoughtless, careless sinners have fallen as sud- denly as if struck by lightning. Professed infidels, and other vicious characters, have been arrested, and some- times at the very moment when they were uttering their blasphemies against God and the work, and have, like Saul, declared that to be God's work which they so vehe- mently persecuted. I trust I have said enough on this subject to enable my readers to judge how far the charge of enthusiasm and delusion is applicable to this work, unequaled for powei and for the entire change of the hearts and lives of so many thousands of men and women. Lord Lyttleton, in his letter on the conversion of St. Paul, observes, and I think justly, that enthusiasm is a vain, self-righteous spirit, swelled with self-sufficiency and disposed to glory in its religious attainments. If this be a good definition, there was as little enthusiasm in this work as any other. Never were there more genuine marks of that humility which disclaims the merits of its own works, and looks to the Lord Jesus Christ as the only way of acceptance with God. Christ was all and in all in their exercises and religion, and their Gospel, and all believers in their high- est attainments seemed most sensible of their entire de- pendence upon Divine grace ; and it was truly affecting to hear with what anxiety awakened sinners inquired for Christ as the only Physician who could give them help. Those who call this enthusiasm ought to tell us what they understand by the spirit of Christianity. Upon the whole, this revival in the west was the most extraordinary that ever visited the Church of Christ, and was peculiarly adapted to the circumstances of the country. Infidelity was triumphant, and religion at the point of expiring. Something of an extraordinary nature was necessary tt REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 360 arrest the attention of a wicked and skeptical people, who were ready to conclude that Christianity was a fable and futurity a dream. This great work of God did do it. It confounded infidelity and vice into silence, and brought numbers beyond calculation under the influence of exper- imental religion and practical piety. It is generally known that in the early settlement of Kentucky, the regular Baptists we're by far the most nu- merous body of Christians. It is also known that they adhered most rigidly to the doctrines of unconditional election and reprobation, together with the final and un- conditional perseverance of the saints. The same may be said of the Presbyterians, who firmly maintained and preached these doctrines till the commencement of this revival. Indeed, the doctrine of unconditional election and reprobation was so generally taught by these denom- inations, that there was rarely found any one sufficiently fearless and independent to call them in question. They had taken deep root, and it might be said the doctrines of Calvin had filled the whole country. During the prev- alence of these doctrines, supported as they were on all sides by polemical divines, whose religion seemed to con- sist almost entirely of a most dogged and pertinacious ad- herence to the creeds and confessions of faith, which had been handed down from orthodox Puritan fathers, it was not a matter of surprise that professors of religion, losing sight of the weightier matters of the Gospel, while they attended to its "anise, and mint, and cummin," would fall insensibly into antinomianism. The inconsistency of the doctrines of Calvin became the subject of the sarcas- tic sneers of infidels, and the inability of these Churches to reconcile their doctrines with the justice of God and the present order of things, made fearful inroads on the cause of Christianity, and strengthened the hands of the wicked. The friends of the truth were few. They were 2i 370 AUTOBIOGRAI'n Y OF without influence, and much persecuted; but, notwith standing, they lifted up their voice. It was at this juncture, and under these circumstances, that it pleased the Lord to look down upon the western country. Man's extremity was God's opportunity, and the wonderful manifestation of Divine power swept away antinomianism, and infidelity, and every refuge of lies. There were some in the* Presbyterian Church who did not preach a partial Gospel, but who lilted up their voice like a trumpet, and invited all to come to Jesus for salvation, assuring them that he died for fall. Of this number was that man of God, Carey Allen. As a missionary he was "a flame of fire," and thousands were awakened under his fervent, soul-stirring appeals. Not long after the revival commenced, several of the Presbyterian ministers renounced Calvinism, and being persecuted by their brethren, they left the Church, and organized a new Presbytery, which was called the Spring- field Presbytery. As is often the case with those who separate from the Church because they judge it needs ref- ormation in doctrine or discipline, so these brethren, un- fortunately, did not stop in media res, but rushed to an- other extreme. They ran into gross errors and heresies, as was seen in their apology for renouncing the jurisdic- tion of the Synod, the tract on the atonement by Mr. Stone, in 1804, and their sermons. Methodists and Pres- byterians both saw that an enemy had come in, and was sowing tares broadcast over the field, and they retired to their own stands, and defended their own doctrines. The party which had separated were styled Newlights, but they have subsequently taken the name of Christian. In June, 1804, these preachers dissolved their Presbytery, and drew up a very curious paper, which they signed, en- titled "The last Will and Testament of the Springfield Presbytery." Of the six ministers who signed this REV. JAMES B. FIN LEY. 371 paper, two went back to the Presbyterian Church, three joined the Shakers, and one the Campbellites. They pub lished to the world, in the paper above alluded to, their belief; or, in other words, their non-belief, for they re« nounced all creeds, confessions of faith, and standards of doctrine and started out on a crusade ao-ainst all the o Churches. Several of these ministers were my school-mates in other days, and I felt a lively interest in them ; so much so, as the reader will find, in the relation of my religious life, given in the preceding pages, I went to their camp meeting on Eagle creek to join them. By a personal and confidential interview with one of the preachers, a former old class-mate at my father's academy, I learned that they did not believe in the doctrine of the Trinity, nor in total depravity, nor in the atonement, as held by orthodox Churches. Honest David Purviance, in his life, comes out boldly, and proclaims the doctrines of the Newlight Church. This heresy spread and prevailed. The early settlers of Kentucky were most skeptical on the subject of relig- ion. The more influential classes of citizens were infidel in sentiment, and they labored to bring all to their views. To accomplish their wishes more fully, they employed, an Englishman to take charge of their seminary of learning at Lexington. He had an extensive library, and, from his position, exerted a great influence in society. Subse- quently, the principal of the seminary was elected Secre- tary of State. The Governor, Mr. Garrard, was a cele- brated Baptist preacher, and a gentleman of much respectability and influence. It was not long till the Sec- retary succeeded in converting the Governor to his faith ; and, having accomplished a result so desirable to the infi- del party, the next thing was to get the Governor to pub- i.sh a tract on the doctrine of the Trinity. Thio made 372 A DTOBIOG K A I'll y ()F considerable noise. In 1802 the Rev. Augustin Easton and Governor Garrard commenced a meeting on Cooper's run, in Bourbon county. Here they proclaimed publicly the Arian and Socinian doctrines. The wavering sepa- ratists were excited and encouraged wonderfully by this movement, as is evident from their own confession and subsequent course. These unfortunate people — New lights — from the time they first began to preach their doctrines, were beset in their meetings with those wild ex- ercises that have been alluded to. See Benedict's History of Baptist Church, vol. ii, p. 252. These strange exercises that have excited so much wonder in the western country came in toward the last of the revival, and were, in the estimation of some of the more pious, the chaff of the work. Now it was that the humiliating and often disgusting exercises of dancing, laughing, jerking, barking like dogs, or howling like wolves, and rolling on the ground, manifested themselves. To add to their misfortune, being ripe for such a catas- trophe, a company of Shakers from New York found their way among them, and proselyted their most talented and useful preacher and not a few of their members. These fanatics for a season went on with a tremendous influence, threatening to sweep all before them. But they, like all other wild and visionary people, had their day. If the reader should desire to find what the New- lights, or Christians, teach, he will best obtain it from their own works. I refer the reader to Barton Stone's exposition, in pamphlet form. The wild vagaries adopted by the Newlight. preachers of Kentucky prepared them to gulp down all the ridicu- lous tenets. of Shakerism, and this produced a general skepticism in that state, that, I fear, will not be done away for generations. It may seem strange that all grades of Arians and Socinians have adopted immersion REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 373 as the only mode of baptism, and regard it as constituting a title to heaven. The new isms that followed this great revival were many, and it seemed as if Satan had taken advantage of the excitement to drive the bewildered into darkness and the sanguine into error and folly. The Shakers drew off hundreds with them. Elder Holmes rose up with his pil- grims, and started out in quest of the Holy Land. He had many followers, and, after wandering about for some time, died on an island in the Mississippi river, and his band dissolved. Elder Farnum, also another fanatic, pretended to have received the spirit of immediate inspi- ration, and raised a party called the "screaming chil- dren." After flourishing for a season, this association dwindled away. Next came A. Sargent and his twelve disciples — all women. It was spread over the country that he was inspired and conversed with angels daily, from whom he received revelations. Then Elias Hicks, the Quaker, espoused Arianism, and split the Quaker Church, spreading confusion and schism every-where among the Friends. Last, but not least in the train of evils, came Kidwell with the last edition of Universalism. He taught that there was no hell, no devil, no future judgment ; that it was impossible for any one to commit any crime in this life that would possibly shut him out of heaven; that all souls at death enter at once into the heavenly state, and are happy with God forever, no matter how they have lived in this world. 374 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF CHAPTERXXII NARRATIVE CONTINUED. I continued at the Wyandott mission till the fall of 1827, having been engaged in the work of this mission for a period of five years. The reader will see that when I visited that nation there were but few who professed Christianity, and none who were members of the Church and regular observers of its ordinances. From a small Church organization, which I was enabled to effect, the society gradually increased till its numbers amounted to two hundred and sixty, and these were divided into classes. For an account of the condition and prospects of the mission just before I was called away from it, I refer the reader to the report of Judge Leib to the Secre- tary of War, which was made to the Government in 1826, as found in the "History of the Wyandott Mission," pp. 367, 368. At the conference of 1827 I was appointed to the Leb- nnon district, where I labored two years, and at the end of which time I was sent to Cincinnati station. The Rad- ical secession had taken place under the administration of my predecessor, the Rev. John F. Wright, and Cincinnati was any thing else but a desirable appointment. After remaining in the station two years, I was placed upon the district, and after remaining two years, was returned to the station, and the Rev. Thomas A. Morris succeeded me on the district. In the mean time, brother Morris being appointed editor of the Western Christian Advocate, I was again placed on the district. KEV. JAMES B. FINLEY". S71 After this I was appointed to Chilicothe district, -where 1 remained two years, at the expiration of which time 1 was sent to the Lebanon district, where I remained three years. My next appointment was Dayton district, where I labored four years. Many incidents occurred during my labors on these respective fields; but it would be impossible to relate them, as it would occupy entirely too much space. During my labors on the Dayton district an inciden; occurred which I must relate, because it is due to the many to whom I promised an account of it that it should be published in my biography. It was in the summer of 1842. Worn down with fatigue, I was completing my last round of quarterly meetings, and winding up the labors of a very toilsome year. I had scarcely finished my work till I was most violently attacked with bilious fever, and it was with great difficulty I reached home. The disease had taken so vio- lent a hold on my system that I sank rapidly under its power. Every thing that kind attention and medical skill could impart was resorted to, to arrest its ravages; but all was in vain, and my life was despaired of. On the seventh night, in a state of entire insensibility to all around me, when the last ray of hope had departed, and my weeping family and friends were standing around my couch waiting to see me breathe my last, it seemed to me that a heavenly visitant entered my room. It came to my side, and, in the softest and most silvery tones, which fell like rich music on my ear, it said, " I have come to con- duct you to another state and place of existence." In an instant I seemed to rise, and, gently borne by my angel guide, I floated out upon the ambient air. Soon earth was lost in the distance, and around us, on every side, were worlds of light and glory. On, on, away, away from world to luminous worlds afar, we sped with the 376 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF velocity cf thought At length we reached the gates of paradise; and 0, the transporting scenes that fell upon my vision as the emerald portals, wide and high, rolled back upon their golden hinges! Then, in its fullest extent, did I realize the invocation of the poet : "Burst, ye emerald gates, and bring To my raptured vision All the ecstatic joys that spring Round the bright Elysian." Language, however, is inadequate to describe what :hen f with unvailed eyes, I saw. The vision is indelibly pictured on my heart. Before me, spread out in beauty, was a broad sheet of water, clear as crystal, not a single ripple on its surface, and its purity and clearness inde- scribable. On each side of this lake, or river, rose up the most tall and beautiful trees, covered with all manner of fruits and flowers, the brilliant hues of which were re- flected in the bosom of the placid river. While I stood gazing with joy and rapture at the scene, a convoy of angels was seen floating in the pure ether of that world. They all had long wings, and, although they went with the greatest rapidity, yet their wings were folded close by their side. While I gazed I asked my guide who they were, and what their mission. To this he responded, '"They are angels, dispatched to the world from whence you came on an errand of mercy." I could hear strains of the most entrancing melody all around me, but no one was discoverable but my guide. At length 1 said, "Will it be possible for me to have a sight of some of the just made perfect in glory V Just then there came before us three persons; one had the appearance of a male, the other a female, and the third an infant. The appearance of the first two was somewhat similar to the angels I saw, with the exception that they had crowns upon their heads of the purest yellow, and harps in their KEV. JAMES B. FINLEY 377 bands. Their robes, which were full and flowing, were of the purest white. Their countenances were lighted up with a heavenly radiance, and they smiled upon me with ineffable sweetness. There was nothing with which the blessed babe or child could be compared. It seemed to be about three feet high. Its win^s, which were lonsr and most beauti- ful, were tinged with all the colors of the rainbow. Its dress seemed to be of the whitest silk, covered with the softest white down. The driven snow could not exceed it for whiteness or purity. Its face was all radiant with glory ; its very smile now plays around my heart. I gazed and gazed wi'h wonder upon this heavenly child. At length I said, "If I have to return to earth, from whence I came, I should love to take this child with me, and show it to th*> weeping mothers of earth. Methinks, when they see it, they will never shed another tear over their children when they die." So anxious was I to carry out the desire of my heart, that I made a grasp at the bright and beau- tiful one, desiring to clasp it in my arms, but it eluded my grasp, and plunged into the river of life. Soon it rose up from the waters, and as the drops fell from its expanding wings, they seemed like diamonds, so brightly did they sparkle. Directing its course to the other shore, it flew up to one of the topmost branches of one of life's fair trees. With a look of most seraphic sweetness it gazed upon me, and then commenced singing in heaven's own strains, "To Him that hath loved me, and washed me from my sins in his own blood, to him be glory both now and forever. Amen." At that moment the power of the eternal God came upon me, and I began to shout, and, clapping my hands, I sprang from my bed, and was healed as instantly as the lame man in the beautiful porch of the temple, who "went walking, and leaping, and praising God." Overwhelmed with the glory I saw and felt, I 32 378 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF could not cease praising God. The next Sabbath I wen to camp meeting, filled with the love and power of God. There I told the listening thousands what I saw and felt, and what God had done for me, and loud were the shouts 01 glory that reverberated through the forests. Though years have rolled away since that bright, happy hour, yet the same holy flame is burning in my heart, and I retain the same glorious victory. " Halleluiah! for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth." Being entirely restored to health, I went to conference, and was sent on the Zanesville district. Here, after many years, I returned to the same place from whence I started as from a point to travel round my first circuit. Old brother Spangler, whose hospitalities I first, and often sub- sequently, enjoyed, has long since left us, and I trust is now in heaven. Some of his family remain. David Spangler, Esq., a talented lawyer, resides in Coshocton. He was always a stanch friend of his father's people; and the same may be said of Isaac Spangler, a distin- guished physician of Zanesville. Several of the daugh- ters were Methodists, and perhaps are living still. Then Methodism was small and feeble, but Jacob has arisen and become strong. This city has some of the firmest Meth- odists: Moorehead, and Millis, and Howard, and the Coxes, Brush, and others, are an honor to any Church. Long may they live to honor God and Methodism ! I remained on the Zanesville district two years, and, at the request of the directors of the Ohio penitentiary, was appointed chaplain to that institution, where I re- mained three years and a half. A full account of my labors in that institution the reader will find in " Prison Life." In 1850, my health bsing feeble, I took a superannuated relation, in hopes that rest would prepare me again for active service. REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 379 The next year I was made effective, and appointed te Y"ehow Springs. Again I took rest for another year, and now, in the 72d year of my age, I have charge of Clinton- street Church, Cincinnati. In the year 1845 the Wyandott nation, whom I adopted as my people, and who constituted me a chief of one of their tribes, were removed to the Indian territory beyond the Mississippi. It is a melancholy reflection, that all those powerful tribes which once inhabited these plains, roaming at free- dom where we now reside, and who sped with their light canoes over the surface of our rivers, the monarchs of all they surveyed, have now no claim whatever even to the graves of their fathers. A dark and dismal fate rests upon them, and in their native land they are rapidly fad- ing away beneath the gaze of the pale face. Mrs. Catharine Walker, the amiable and talented wife of the Rev. Geo. W. Walker, has written some beautiful lines occasioned by the removal of the Wyandotts ; and knowing that they will be interesting to my readers, I sub- join them. They are thus appropriately introduced by the writer : "But solemn thoughts intrude upon these pleasing re- flections of the past. Many of those veteran warriors, who became soldiers of the cross, have been called by the Captain of their salvation, to lay down their arms in the Christian warfare, and go to that rest which remains foi his people, gathered from every nation, kindred, tongue, and people. But the remnant of brethren and childreu which they left below, and with whom they suffered and worshiped here, where are they? They had comfortable homes and fertile lands, and were enjoying all the bless- ings of the Gospel in civilized life; but the white man coveted their possessions, and they must go to the far-ofl western wilds, again to be exposed to all the temptations 380 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF and trials Incident to savage life. May the God of m : % sions be with them ! "Go, fated Indian, to the farthest verge Of earth's remotest shore; There let the night-bird sing thy dirge, When thy weary wandering's o'er. Go sit upon the ocean's brink, And in its solemn moan, Fit music for thy broken heart, Forget thy distant home. But the white man's foot is on thy tracks As the blood-hound seeks the hare; Then arise, and scale some barren rock, For the white man will not spare. Go dwell upon some craggy peak, Where the eagle makes her nest, And eternal snows are drifting down — There thy weary foot may rest. Away from where thy kindred sleep, Beneath a frigid sky; Where the wintery blast will freeze thy tear*— There lay thee down and die. Cast not a look to thy native land, But to that blissful shore, Where oppression's sigh is never heard, . And thou shalt weep no more." REY. JAMES B. FINLEY. 38J CHAPTER XXIII. SKETCH OF BISHOP ASBURY, THE FOUNDER OF AMERICAN METHODISM. In the autumn of 1771 Francis Asbury, after a voyage of two months in crossing the Atlantic, landed on our shores. His place of debarkation was Philadelphia. The venerable founder of Methodism, who had already been here on a mission, but had returned without having ac- complished, to any great extent, the objects for which he came, and who still felt his heart stirred within him for the spiritual welfare of his brethren in this far-off, western world, made a call for volunteers at the conference in Bristol. This call was responded to by Francis Asbury. That Providence which has ever presided over the Church perhaps was never manifested more signally, so far as Methodism in America is concerned, than in the selection, at that time, of an agent whose peculiar fitness for the work of organizing, giving direction, and imparting efficiency to the system of means already set in operation for evangelizing this continent, was so marked. His early religious training, under the guardianship of a pious mother, to whose memory he pays a merited tribute, and the formation in youth of those habits of piety which enter so essentially into the elements of all true greatness in Christian character, admirably qualified him for the work upon which he was about to enter. And here we would remark, that few men, either in Church or state, have been distinguished for goodness or greatness whose early religious training has been neglected. 3«2 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF Young Asbury was early inspired with religious dilu- tions, and his youthful mind was imbued with religious principles ere he had passed the first decade of his life. His autobiography informs us that he was a diligent stu- dent of the Bible at seven years of age. The brutality of his schoolmaster, though it drove him from school, had the effect of driving him to God in prayer and of in- creasing his love for the Scriptures, thus exemplifying the truth that the wrath of man sometimes works out the purposes of God. At the age of fourteen he was awak- enened under the sermon of a Methodist preacher, to whose meeting he was directed by his mother. In regard to this meeting he says, " I soon found it was not * the Church;* but it was bettei. The people were so de vout — men and women kneeling down, saying amen Now, behold ! they were singing hymns. Sweet sound Why, strange to tell, the preacher had no prayer-book and yet he prayed wonderfully ! What was yet more ex traordinary, the man took his text and had no sermon book. Thought I, this is wonderful indeed! It is cer tainly a strange way, but the best way." To a great degree, a cold, heartless, and Christless the- ology characterized the sermons of "the Church" at that day. In the providence of God, through the instrument- ality of Methodism, a warm spiritual life was infused into these dead forms, and awakening power roused them into action. No sooner had he felt the power of regenerating grace, and had come up to the possession of that "confi- dence and assurance in Christ" of which he heard the Methodist preacher speak, and which appeared to him, al that time, wholly inexplicable, if not a species of fanati- cism unwarranted by the Bible, than he felt an irrepress- ible desire to communicate the glad and joyous intelli- gence to others. Nor was it long till, at his fathei's house, ho held a meeting, and poured out the treasures KEY. JAMES B. FI.NLEY. 383 of his full heart upon the consciences of those who were present, several of whom were awakened and converted. At the age of seventeen he became a local preacher, and traveled extensively, visiting every place within his reach, and preaching from three to five times every week. When he had reached his majority he gave himself up deliberately and fully to God and his work. About this time he felt his heart strangely drawn toward America, and made it a matter of constant and earnest prayer that he might be directed, in this respect, in all things agree- able to the will of God. Having consecrated himself wholly to the Lord, he was prepared to enter upon any work Providence should assign him, or visit any field, however distant; yet he was careful to ascertain the indi- cations of Providence in that regard, lest, as he says, "he might run before he was sent." Methodism had already been planted in America. The work of God which, under the Wesleys and their coadju- tors, had spread throughout England, Wales, and Ireland, resulted in the organization of societies and the raising up 6f holy men to preach the Gospel to the scattered and per- secuted flocks in those countries. Several of these emi- grated to America, and among the number were Embury Webb, Strawbridge, Williams, King, Boardman, and Pil- moor. These men were instrumental in preaching the Gospel and planting Methodism in New York, Frederick county, Md., Norfolk, Philadelphia, and elsewhere. As her- alds, they had prepared the way, and the seed which they sowed was, by the providence of God, cast in good places, and, like the "handful of corn on the top of the mount- ain, " has been springing up and multiplying, till, like the cedars of Lebanon, the spacious branches and goodly fruii now spread over all the land. Asbury, upon his arrival at Philadelphia, immediately entered upon his work. He was gladly received by the 384 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF brethren, and hailed as a colaborer in the great field. To an untiring zeal he added the most consummate prudence He was a Methodist both in spirit and practice, adopting for his own government a most rigid method, by which he divided his time between prayer, study, preaching, travel- ing, and even extended his regime to eating and sleeping, and labored to impress upon preachers and members all the peculiarities so important to Methodist economy. He had not been long in this country till he received a letter from Mr. Wesley, appointing him general assistant of the work. This honor he received with a meekness charac- teristic of the man. The Church was then small and feeble, and Methodism was a term of reproach ; but still it was an honor to have the leadership of that little and despised band. , The motives to ambition which now exist were not then to be found. To travel from thirty to forty miles a day in rain or snow, over lough roads, on horse back, and preach twice or thrice, sometimes without food, and at night find shelter in a log-cabin or a barn, or fre- quently in "the wilderness without any shelter, did not offer many inducements to aspirants for episcopal honors. There was then no "college of bishops," whose support was secured by a mammoth Book Concern and Chartered Fund, and who could in a few days reach their most dis- tant appointments on velvet cushions, in cars supported by gutta percha springs, or in floating palaces, which plowed the deep at the rate of twenty knots an hour. Notwithstanding all this, however, we are thankful — truly thankful — that there has been a change, and, above all, that Methodism has kept pace with the mighty progress of this enterprising age. It is with a spirit of admiration that we can look up to those venerable and holy men who occupy the bench of bishops, with the most implicit confi- dence in their piety and fidelity and with a certain know! edge of the fact that their office is no sinecure, but one REV. JAMES B. FINLET. 385 which calls for and receives at the hands of the present incumbents a greater amount of self-sacrificing devotion than that of any other office in Church or state. And we rejoice, too, that we have a Book Concern — a mammoth Concern, if the reader please — taking rank with any individual Concern in the country, and larger, by far, than any similar Church establishment. In 1784, in company with Dr. Coke and others, Asbury was consulted in regard to the propriety of organizing the societies into an independent Methodist Episcopal Church, with superintendents, elders, and deacons. In regard to the superintendence, his reply was, "If the preachers unanimously choose me, I shall not act in the capacity I have hitherto done by Mr. Wesley's appointment." The result of the conversation was the call of a General con- ference to meet in Baltimore the ensuing Christmas. At this conference he and Dr. Coke were unanimously elected to the superintendency. Till this time Asbury was an un- ordained minister, and as the Church had now taken a separate existence, it was necessary he should receive orders, for the purpose of perpetuating the ministry and of conferring upon those who gave evidence of a call and qualification to preach the Gospel the authority to admin- ister the sacraments. Accordingly, Dr. Coke being a presbyter of the Church of England, assisted by two eld- ers, successively conferred upon him the orders of deacon and elder, and at the same time, by the imposition of hands, set him apart for the office of a superintendent in the Methodist Episcopal Church. Soon after conference he started out upon his work, traveling on horseback, in one journey, five hundred miles, and preaching on the way. He relates a pleasing interview which he had in this journey with General Washington, who gave him, without hesitation, his opin- ion against slavery. •25 386 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF In that early day of the Church in this country, the subject of collegiate as well as academical and common school education was not lost sight of by the pio- neers of Methodism. Coke was an Oxonian himself, as well as the founders of Methodism, and the project of founding a college in this country was dear to his heart. Although Asbury was not what is denominated a classical scholar, so far, at least, as the literary degrees in cursu are concerned, yet it is evident from his journal that he was well versed in the original language of the New Test- anient and possessed of a good share of critical acumen in pulpit exegesis. As a lover of learning and a devoted student of Biblical and theological literature, he readily sympathized with the Doctor in the enterprise of founding a college, and gave it his countenance and hearty support. At the laying of the corner-stone of Cokesbury College at Abington, he delivered an eloquent discourse from the following words of the seventy-eighth Psalm : " We will not hide them from their children, shewing to the generation to come the praises of the Lord, and his strength, and his wonderful works that he hath done. For he established a testimony in Jacob, and appointed a law in Israel, which he commanded our fathers, that they should make them known to their children : that the generation to come might know them, even the children which should be born ; who should arise and declare them to their children : that they might set their hope in God, and not forget the works of God, but keep his commandments : and might not be as their fathers, a stubborn and rebellious genera- tion ; a generation that set not their heart aright, and whose spirit was not steadfast with God." From this it could be seen that, whatever our enemies may say to the contrary, our Church in this country, from its earliest organization, has given unmistakable evidence of her appreciation of and devotion :o the interests of REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 387 sanctified literature. This we trust, however, to make appear more fully and at large in the biographies ot our distinguished men of the past and present, with which we hope to enliven our pages and edify our readers. Methodist preachers have hitherto been regarded, by a certain class, not only as destitute of education them- selves, but as enemies of learning, especially of a learned ministry, and have frequently been slighted, if not sneered at, by those who had no other qualification for the minis- try, and were not particularly burdened with that. On a certain occasion Asbury visited New Haven, the seat of Yale College. The appearance of a Methodist preacher there excited curiosity, and he had many students out to hear him, besides President Styles and other clergymen. When he had finished his discourse not one of the clergy deigned to speak to him. This reminded him of White- field's remark to Boardman and Pilmoor at their first coming to America: "If ye were Calvinists ye would take the country before ye." Notwithstanding this cold neglect, he visited the college chapel at the hour of prayer and expressed a desire to inspect the interior arrange- ments; but no one invited him. This is not the first time, nor has it been the last, that these self-styled "effi- cient" ministers of the Gospel have shown their boorish- ness in the treatment of Methodist preachers. In this respoct, however, "temjiora mutantur," and they have been obliged to change with the times. To such conduct, however, toward Methodist preachers there are honorable exceptions — men of strength, and power, and piety, who Ic not consider it a want of self-respect, or a lowering down of dignity, or a sacrifice of caste, to associate with and treat the humble "circuit rider" with Christian respect. Cokesbury College, the child of those two distinguished men whose names it bore, opened into life as a bright and 388 AUTOBIOGRAniY OF beautiful boy, the pride and joy of its parent's heart. Ii was truly and emphatically the child of the Church. Bright, however, as were its prospects, and favorable as were the auspices under which it entered upon its career, yet, like the most precious things of life, often the earliest doomed, it was, in the providence of God, only allowed a brief destiny. Though early smitten, and the Church was called upon to mourn over the ashes of Cokesbury College, yet its spirit survived, and its metempsychosis may be seen in the numerous institutions of learning witb which the Church is blessed in all parts of the country. While Asbury manifested so much interest in schools and colleges, he did not neglect a personal attendance upon the instruction of the children in families, but dili- gently catechised them in every house where he went. This important part of a Methodist preacher's duty, and one which enters into the solemn injunction of his ordina- tion vows, occupied a more prominent place in the good Bishop's ministrations and those of the early pioneers of Methodism, perhaps, than of the preachers of the present day. It may be remarked that Sunday schools are vastly more extended, efficient, and systematic in their opera- tions now than at that period, and this may constitute the reason for such laxity in regard to the catechetical instruc- tion of the children by the preachers. This, however, should not be, as no Sunday school instruction can supply its place or prove an excuse sufficient to justify the shep- herd in neglecting to feed the lambs of his flock. While on this subject we may take occasion to remark, that Asbury early identified himself with the Sunday school cause, and that to him is justly due the honor of having established the first Sunday schools in America. In a pamphlet which professes to give the origin and history of Sunday schools in America, it is stated "that the first KEV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 3S9 Sunday school organization in the United States of which we have any authentic record was the First-Day or Sun- day School Society, which was established in Philadelphia in 1791/' Now, it is a fact well authenticated, but strangely overlooked, that Bishop Asbury organized a Sunday school in Hanover, Virginia, in 1786, Jive years before the one in Philadelphia; and it is also a fact that one year before this organization the Minutes of the con- ference contain the following questions and answers : " Question. What can be done to instruct poor children, white and black, to read ? "Answer. Let us labor as the heart and soul of one man to establish Sunday schools in or near the place of public worship. Let persons be appointed by the bishops, ciders, deacons, or preachers to teach gratis all that will attend and have a capacity to learn, from six o'clock in the morning till ten, and from two o'clock in the afternoon till six, where it does not interfere with public worship. The council shall compile a proper school-book to teach them learning and piety." The subject of our sketch was a man of most pacific spirit, and while he was removed from every thing like intolerance on the one hand, he was ready to go all lengths, where integrity and principle were not compro- mised, to conciliate the esteem of those who were in any degree alienated or felt themselves aggrieved, and spared uo labor or sacrifices to cast oil upon the troubled waters of partisan strife. Nothing grieved him more than the unhappy excitement and division gotten up by O'Kelly and his coadjutors. In answer to the complaints alleged against him for exercising his episcopal prerogative, in preventing O'Kelly from becoming a fixture in a certain locality where he had worn out all his influence and use- fulness, he says, "I have little to leave except a journey of five thousand miles a year, the care of more than one 39C AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF hundred thousand souls, and the arrangement of about four hundred preachers yearly, to which I may add the murmurs and discontent of ministers and people. Who wants this legacy? Those who do," he adds, "are wel- come to i* for me. The Methodists acknowledge no supe- riority but what is founded on seniority, election, and long and faithful services. For myself, I pity those who can not distinguish, between a Pope of Rome and an old, worn man of sixty years who has the power given him of riding five thousand miles a year on horseback, at a salary of eighty dollars, through summer's heat and winter's cold, traveling in all weather, preaching in all places, his best covering from rain often but a blanket, the surest sharp- ener of his wit hunger, from fasts voluntary and invol- untary, his best fare for six months of the twelve coarse kindness, and his reward, from too many, suspicion, envy, and murmurings all the year round." Such, however, were only occasional shadows darken* ing his otherwise bright and happy pathway. His gen- eral experience may be summed up in his own words : "Close communion with God, holy fellowship with the Father and his Son Jesus Christ, a will resigned, frequent addresses to a throne of grace, a constant and serious care for the prosperity of Zion, forethought in the ar- rangements and appointments of the preachers, a soul drawn out in ardent prayer for the universal Church, and the complete triumph of Christ over all the earth." As an evidence of his sincere attachment and disinter- estedness, it may be remarked, that he never made an appointment of any of the preachers either with a view to afflict them or to gratify any feelings of personal preju- dice" on the one hand, or of affection on the other, nor would he allow such influences from his council to beai upon the appointment of any of the preachers. The preachers were dear to his heart, and he daih REV. JAMES B. FIN LEY. 391 m;\de them the subject of his prayers and tenderest solic- itude To his care for the preachers might be added the care of all the Churches. By correspondence and other- wise, when he could not visit them personally, he kept himself posted in regard to all the interests of Zion. The conferences then were usually seasons of great religious interest, and as the miscellaneous business was small at that time compared with the present, the regular minute business was soon dispatched, and more time was allowed for religious exercises. The worth of souls lay near his heart, and he was not satisfied unless he was conscious sinners were awakened and converted through his instrumentality. Once, after having traveled hard throuoh a western wilderness, to reach a quarterly meeting on his way to a distant confer- ence, he was unusually tempted at not having seen, for some time, any direct evidence of his personal labor in the conversion of souls. He felt inclined to the belief that his mission had expired, and he had better retire from the work. With this depression of spirit he entered the love-feast on Sabbath morning, in a rude log chapel in the woods, and took his seat, unknown to any, in the back part of the congregation. After the usual preliminary exercises had been gone through with by the preacher, an opportunity was given for the relation of Christian expe- rience. One after another testified of the saving grace of God, and occasionally a verse of some hymn was sung, full of rich and touching melody. The tide of religious feeling was rising and swelling in all hearts, while a lady rose whose plain but exceedingly neat attire indicated that she was a Methodist. Her voice was full and clear, though slightly tremulous. She had traveled many miles to the meeting, and her feelings would not allow her to repress her testimony. She remarked that she had nut long been a follower of Christ. " Two years ago," saiu 393 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF she, " I was attracted to a Methodist meeting in ou: neighborhood by being informed that Bishop Asbury was going to pre'ach. I went, and the Spirit sealed the truth he uttered on my heart. I fled to Jesus, and found re- demption in his blood, even the forgiveness of my sins, and have been happy in his love ever since. 1 Not a cloud doth arise to darken my skies, Or hide for a moment my Lord from my eyes.' " She sat down, and ere the responses which her remarks had awakened in all parts of the house had died away, Bishop Asbury was on his feet. He commenced by re- marking that "he was a stranger and pilgrim, halting on his way for rest and- refreshment in the house of God, and that he had found both; and," said he, with uplifted hands, while tears of joy coursed each other freely dowr- his face, "if I can only be instrumental in the conversion of one soul in traveling round the continent, I'll trave) round it till I die." As an Englishman, he loved his father-land, and fre- quently expressed his grief at the war which then existed between England and the United States; yet he had adopted the latter, and, though many of the preachers had returned to England, unwilling to sympathize with the cause of American liberty, he warmly espoused it, and was firm *in his adherence to the republicanism of Washington. On the occasion of receiving a letter from Mr. Wesley on the subject of the war, he remarks, fi I am extremely sorry that the venerable man ever dipped into the politics of America. My desire is to live in love and peace with all men, to do them no harm, but all the good I can. However," he adds, "it discovers Mr. Wes ley's attachment to the government under which he lives. Had he been a subject of America, no doubt he would hnve been as zealous an advocate of the American cause. But some inconsiderate persons have taken occasion to REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 303 censure the Methodists in America on account of Mr Wesley's political sentiments." As a further evidence of his republicanism, it may be remarked, that at the New York conference in 1789 he offered for the consideration of that body the following proposal; namely, "Whether it would not be proper for us, as a Church, to present a congratulatory address to General Washington, who has been lately inaugurated President of the United States, in which should be embodied our approbation of the Consti- tution, and professing our allegiance to the government.'* To this the conference unanimously acceded, and an ad- dress was prepared and read by Asbury to Washington and his cabinet. To this address the President made a reply, expressive of thanks for the stand taken by the Church in the cause of American liberty. The address and the answer were published in the papers of the day, and soon after other Churches followed the example. For Washington the Bishop had a high regard, which was strengthened by a personal acquaintance of many years ; and when the sad intelligence came to him that the father of his country was no more, he entered the follow- ing in his journal : " Slow moved the northern post on the eve of New- Year's day, and brought the heart-distressing information of the death of Washington, who departed this life De- cember 14, 1797. Washington, the calm, intrepid chief, the disinterested friend, first father, and temporal savior of his country under Divine protection and direction ! A universal cloud sat upon the faces of the citizens of Charleston; the pulpits clothed in black; the bells muf- fled ; the paraded soldiery ; a public oration decreed to be delivered on Friday, fourteenth of this month ; a marble statue to be placed in some proper situation ; these were the expressions of sorrow and these the marks of respect paid by his feeling fellow-citizens to the memory of this 301 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF j/reat man. I am disposed to lose sight of all but Wash- ington. Matchless man ! At all times he acknowledged the providence of God, and never was he ashamed of his Redeemer. We believe he died not fearing death. In his will he ordered the manumission of all his slaves — a true son of liberty in all points." It is with a very ill grace, to say the least of it, that cer- tain partisan theologians have charged the early Methodist preachers with being opposed to the war with Great Brit- ain and the republican principles of which Washington was the great champion. We admit that some of them did manifest opposition, and prudently returned to Eng- land; but that the great body of them were firm and zealous supporters of the republic, none but the most hopelessly prejudiced can entertain a reasonable doubt. With Asbury, the great apostle of Methodism in Amer- ica, this was particularly the case, as his whole history abundantly shows. It is known that the Bishop never married. This state was not to him, however, one of choice, but necessity, and those who hear his reasons for not entering into the marriage relation will be satisfied of the propriety of his course. He says, " If I should die in celibacy, which I think quite probable, I give the following reasons for what can fecarcely be called my choice. I was called in my fourteenth year. I began my public exercises be- tween sixteen and seventeen; at twenty-one I traveled; at twenty-six I came to America. Thus far I had reasons enough for a single life. It had been my intention to return to Europe at thirty years of age ; but the war con- tinued, and it was ton years before we had settled, lasting peace. This was no time to marry or be given in mar- riage. At forty-nine I was ordained superintendent or bishop in America. Among the duties imposed upon me by my office was that of traveling extensively, and ] REV. JAMES B. EINLEY. 395 could hardly expect to find a woman with grace enough to enable her to live but one week out of the fifty- '.wo with her husband ; besides, what right has any man to take advantage of the affections of a woman, make her his wife, and, by a voluntary absence, subvert the whole order and economy of the marriage state, by separating those whom neither God, nature, nor the requirements of civil society permit long to be put asunder? It is neither just nor generous. I may add to this, that I had little money, and with this little administered to the necessities of a beloved mother till I was fifty-seven. If I have done wrong, I hope God and the sex will forgive me. It is my duty now to bestow the pittance I may have tc spare upon the widows, and fatherless girls, and poor married men." Our limits will not allow us to extend much further this brief sketch, and we must, therefore, bring it to a close. Coke and Whatcoat, the colleagues of Asbury in the episcopacy, had ceased from their labors and entered into rest. Wesley, too, the venerable founder of Methodism and father in God of the Church, had closed his long and laborious career upon earth, and entered upon the rest and blessedness of heaven. Asbury stood alone, like a venerable tree left by the woodman's ax to proclaim the ancient glory of the forest. Incessant traveling on horse- back an average of five thousand miles a year, exposed to all the changes of climate and variations of temperature, together with the immense anxiety growing out of the care of all the Churches, in labors more abundant, if pos- sible, than the tireless Wesley, preyed heavily upon his constitution. After he had passed his "threescore and ten," he transferred to the gifted M'Kendree the principal burden of visiting the conferences. As it is interesting to trace *he religious experience of this venerable man, in hi* 396 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF journal we find the following : " My soul is blessed with continual consolation and peace in all my great weakness of body, labor, and crowds of company. I am a debtor to the whole continent, but more especially to the north- east and south-west. It is there I usually gain health, and generally lose in the south and center. I have vis- ited the south thirty times in thirty-one years. I wish to visit Mississippi, but am resigned. My eyes fail. I will resign the stations to Bishop M'Kendree. It is the fifty- fifth year of my ministry and forty-fifth year of labor in America. I die daily ; but my consolations are great. I live in God from moment to moment." This was his last entry in his journal. How like the sun at its setting did his mind expand with holy emotions and benevolent sym- pathies ! The mellow light of his experience and exam- ple shone out clearly and calmly over the goodly tents of Jacob as he was gently sinking into rest. In the sunny south, on the 21st of March, 1816, on a bright and beautiful Sabbath, the dying patriarch was seen to raise his hands when speech had failed, as a token of victory through the blood of the Lamb, and then, reclining his head upon the faithful Bond, his traveling companion, without a struggle he breathed his last — " As fades the summer cloud away — As sinks the gale when storms are o'er." The personal appearance of Bishop Asbury presented nothing remarkable. His form was slight, but erect, and hence dignified and graceful. He had a vigorous consti- tution, and hence an elastic step. His eye was stern and bright. His countenance was strongly marked, with fea- tures expressive of decision, energy, sagacity, and benig- nity, shaded, at times, by an expression of deep anxiety, if not depression. And, to conclude in the language of one in regard to his character, " His parallel for practical sense and practical energy can scarcely be found. As a KEY. JAMES B. FINLEY. 307 ruler of state or a commander of armies he would have ranked among the greatest men of history ; and if ever an impartial ecclesiastical history of this nation is written, Francis Asbury, as well for his personal character as foi being the chief founder of its largest religious organiza- tion, will occupy a position in it above the competition of at 7 other name whatsoever." 3i*S ATTOBIOGEAPHY OF CHAPTER XXIV. SKETCH OF BISHOP m'kENDREE. I have already alluded to the camp meeting which 1 attended in the summer of 1809, on the farm of the Rev. John Collins, on the east fork of the Little Miami. To this meeting the tribes of Methodism from all parts of the country repaired. It was the annual celebration of the feast of tabernacles, under the Christian dispensation. I had passed the Red Sea of repentance, and the wilderness of doubt and uncertainty, and now I was prepared to take my family, and tabernacle on Mount Zion with the people of God. The distance we had to travel was about thirty miles, mostly through an unbroken forest. It cost some- thing then to enjoy the means of grace; not too much, however, for their value. When obtained, they were ap- preciated in proportion to their cost, and richly enjoyed. In good season we arrived. Just before reaching the con- secrated spot, our attention was arrested by the clear and melodious strains of the children of Zion, singing thai memorable camp meeting song, " Stop, poor sinner, stop and think, Before j r ou further go; Will you sport upon the brink Of everlasting woe?" A large number of people had collected already upon the ground, and had pitched their neat, white canvas tents. The preachers' stand was filled with ministers, the most of whose faces were familiar to me. There was one, however, who was a stranger. He had a noble, digni- fied appearance, and seemed to be somewhat above the REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 309 common stature. He was evidently in his prime, though beyond the middle age of life. His voice had a sweetness and compass that were remarkable. There was great symmetry in his features. His forehead was expansive ; eyes dark, but beaming with the fire of intelligence. Lux- uriant rolls of dark hair covered his head, and his genera] appearance would at once impress a stranger with the idea of his being an extraordinary man. When he rose to give out the hymn, every eye was turned toward and riveted upon him. Indeed, I felt as if some supernatural being was going to address us. The hymn being sung we kneeled down for prayer ; and such an address to the throne of the heavenly grace I never heard before. There was a simplicity and earnestness about it truly surprising. It seemed as though he was talking- face to face with God, as a child with its father. Every heart was interested in that prayer, and it seemed as if heaven had come down to earth. When he arose he announced for his text John iv, 24: "God is a Spirit, and they that worship him must wor- ship him in spirit and in truth." Every word that fell from the lips of the sainted M'Kendree was devoured by the eager multitude. There was but one mind and one heart. That one mind received all the truths that were uttered, and that one heart beat responsive to those truths. [ can not possibly describe my own feelings on the occa- sion. I had taken a position in front of the speaker, so that I might have a full and uninterrupted view of his person. Never was I so entertained. I could see nothing but the speaker; I could hear nothing but his voice. While I listened I was unconsciously drawn, as if by some magic spell, toward the preacher; and when he closed, to my astonishment I found myself within a few feet of him. All around me was the most intense excitemei.t — loud shouts of glory and cries for mercy — yet I knew *t not, J '400 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF hoard it not, till the preacher ceased, and the charm was broken. 0, it was a heavenly time ! and it seemed to me that I was quite on the suburbs of glory, drinking full draughts from that "river the streams whereof make glad the city of God." That afternoon brother Axley came to me and said, "Bishop M'Kendree desires to see you at his tent." "But," said I, "I have no acquaintance with him." "Then I will introduce you," said Axley. So I went to the tent and was introduced. I felt greatly embarrassed on approaching the Bishop; but the ease and cordiality with which he received me at once banished all my fears, and inspired me with confidence. After brother Axley retired, he commenced conversing with me with as much familiarity as if he had known me all my life. He asked me in regard to my family, and many other things, and how Jong I had been a professor of religion. He also asked me if I had not been exercised in regard to preach- ing the Gospel. Though a stranger, he gained at once my fullest confidence, and I opened to him all my heart, spoke of my experience, conflicts, trials, and frankly informed him that I could not think myself qualified for the work of the ministry. He then conversed with me as man never did before, and as man never can again. There was an overpowering sweetness in his manner and words, that filled me with love and reverence for the man that lasted all through his life. I wept like a child, and telling him I was ignorant, and lived in the wilderness where there was no one to guide me, he laid his hand gently on my head and said, "My son, be of good cheer; God will supply you with fathers and mothers in the Gospel." Such a manifestation of regard for me completely over- came me, and from that moment I felt that this venerable man would treat me as a son in the Gospel ; and from thai day on till the day of his death, nc man lived, except my RET. JAMES B. FINLEY. 40J hither, who had so strong a hold upon my heart, and in whom I could so implicitly confide, or one whom I felt myself so implicitly bound to obey, as this amiable minis- ter of Jesus. I never saw any thing during his life whicn would lead me to suppose that he did not feel for me as a eon in the Gospel. Throughout the meeting he frequently called me to his tent, and conversed with me in the most free and unrestrained manner. An incident occurred at this camp meeting of a deeply- thrilling character, and one which produced an entire change in my views in regard to the qualifications neces- sary to partake of the holy communion. I supposed that only such as were converted, and were the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus, were entitled to a place at the Lord's table. There accompanied us to the camp meeting a young lady. To the graces of her person, for she was charmingly beautiful, were added a brilliant mind. She was an amiable and lovely girl, the pride of the neigh- borhood. Scarcely had we arrived on the ground ere she was convicted. During Saturday and Sunday she seemed to be in the most extreme agony of mind. Her prayers and tears excited the sympathy of all hearts. On Monday morning the sacrament of the Lord's sup- per w r as to be administered. After singing, "Glory to God on high! » Our peace is made with Heaven ; The Son of God came down to die, That we might he forgiven," the ministers were all invited around the table to partake of the holy emblems. The venerable Bishop offered the consecratory prayer, and then distributed to the under shepherds the bread and wine. It was a deeply-solemn time. A solemn stillness reigned around, only broken by a deep sigh or a half-suppressed sob, while one after anothei 2G 4Q2 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF o( that large congregation came to celebrate the scenes of Gcthsemane and Calvary. Nearly in front of the Bishop, beyond the altar, stood the weeping penitent, reclining her head upon the shoulder of a converted sister, and sobbing as if her heart would break", while she gazed upon the scene. Her appearance and manner attracted the atten- tion of the benevolent M'Kendree, and looking toward her he said, "My child, come here and kneel at the foot of the cross, and you shall find mercy." "Do you think," said she, through her tears, "so vile a sinner as I may venture to approach the sacramental board, and take in my unholy hands the emblems of the Savior's dying love?" "Yes, my child; it was just for such sinners as you the blessed Jesus died, and while writhing in his last ago- •lies, he demonstrated his willingness and power to save by taking the penitent malefactor with him to heaven." "Then I'll go to Jesus," said she; and hurrying to the table she fell upon her knees and cried aloud to God. With streaming eyes the Bishop administered the bread ; and just as her lips tasted the wine of the sacramental cup, pardon was communicated, and heaven sprung up in her heart. Instantly she rose to her feet, and her face shining like that of an angel, while, with an eloquence that went to every heart, she told the simple story of the cross, and the wondrous power of Christ to save. All seemed to partake of the common joy of that renewed spirit. The same fall I was admitted into the traveling connec- tion, and every year, till his last visit to our conference, he. called to see me, or I was with him. In 1811 he was at my camp meeting on Knox circuit, in company with his venerable companion, Bishop Asbury. From this camp meeting I accompanied him to Xenia. On this tour he preached in Granville, and the Calvinists sent him a note REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 403 requesting him to preach his principles in full. This he did to their satisfaction ; and, in addition thereto, as a work of supererogation, gave an exposition of Calvinism. After the discourse, three elders of the Presbyterian Church came to his lodgings, and attacked him with great zeal. In a short time, however, they were so completely confounded that they went away ashamed of the incon- sistencies of their doctrines. The next evening he had an appointment at Franklinton, near Columbus, where he preached in the old log court-house. The ensuing day we started on our journey in the rain, and getting lost in the Darby Plains, we wandered about all day, and at night, finding a cabin, we took up lodgings. No man, perhaps, ever made more rapid advancements in grace and gifts than did M'Kendree. After his conver- sion, which was in the thirtieth year of his age, lie went on with giant strides from grace to grace. He was evi- dently designed by the great Head of the Church as a leader anions the armies of Israel; and after becoming most thoroughly acquainted with practical itinerancy in the wilds of the west, he was prepared to enter upon episcopal duties and services with a heart touched with itinerant trials. The circumstances connected with the election of M'Kendree to the episcopacy, were of a somewhat inter- esting character. When he visited the General confer- ence as a delegate from the west, having been so long ab- sent from the east, he was not generally known. On the Sabbath before the election for a bishop was to take place, he was appointed to preach in the Light-street Church, Baltimore. ''The house w r as crowded with strangers in every part, above and below, eager to hear the stranger ; and among others, most of the members of the General conference were present, besides a number of colored people, «vh* 404 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF occupied a second gallery in the front end of the church Mr. M'Kendree entered the pulpit at the hour for com- mencing the services, clothed in very coarse and homely o-arments, which he had worn in the woods of the west, and after singing he kneeled in prayer. As was often the case with him when he commenced his prayer, he seemed to falter in his speech, clipping some of his words at the end, and occasionally hanging upon a syllable as if it were [} fficult for him to pronounce the word. I looked at him, not without some feelings of distrust, thinking to myself, *I wonder what awkward backwoodsman they have put in the pulpit this morning, to disgrace us with his mawkish and uncouth phraseology.' This feeling of distrust did not forsake me till some minutes after he had announced his text, which contained the following words : ' For the hurt of the daughter of the people am I hurt ; I am black ; astonishment hath taken hold on me. Is there no balm in Gilead; is there no physician there? Why, then, is not the health of the daughter of my people recovered?' Jeremiah viii, 21, 22. "His introduction appeared tame, his sentences broken and disjointed, and his elocution very defective. He at length introduced his main subject, which was to show the spiritual disease of the Jewish Church, and of the human family generally; and then he entered upon his second proposition, which was to analyze the feelings which such a state of things awakened in the souls of God's faithful embassadors : but when he came to speak of the blessed effects upon the heart of the balm which God had pro- vided for the 'healing of the nations,' he seemed to enter fully into the element in which his soul delighted to move and have its being, and he soon carried the whole congre- gation away with him into the regions of experimental religion. "Remarking upon the objections which some would REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 40a make to the expression of the feelings realized by a person fully restored to health by an application of the 'sorer eign balm for every wound,' he referred to the shouts of applause so often heard upon our national jubilee, in com- memoration of our emancipation from political thralldom, and then said, ' How much more cause has an immortai soul to rejoice and give glory to God for its spiritual de- liverance from the bondage of sin!' This was spoken with a soul overflowing with the most hallowed and ex- alted feelings, and with such an emphasis, that it was like the sudden bursting of a cloud surcharged with water. The congregation was instantly overwhelmed with a shower of Divine grace from the upper world. At first, sudden shrieks, as of persons in distress, were heard m different parts of the house ; then shouts of praise, and in every direction sobs and groans. The eyes of the peopio overflowed with tears, while many were prostrated upon the floor, or lay helpless on the seats. A very large, ath- letic-looking preacher, who was sitting by my side, sud- denly fell upon his seat, as if pierced by a bullet, and I felt my heart melting under emotions which I could not well resist. "After this sudden shower, the clouds were dispersed, %nd the Sun of righteousness shone out most serenely and lelightfully, producing upon all a present consciousness of the Divine approbation ; and when the preacher de- scended from the pulpit, all were filled with admiration of his talents, and were ready to ' magnify the grace of God in him,' as a chosen messenger of good tidings to the lost, saying in their hearts, 'This is the man whom God de- lights to honor.'" This sermon, according to the prediction of Bishop As- bury, secured his election. No man ever made more full proof of his ministry than did the laborious M'Kendree. For twelve years he filled 406 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF the office of a presiding elder, and for nearly twenty -sever years he filled the more important and responsible office of bishop. In the midst of all the trying scenes through which he was called to pass, he manifested the greatest devotion to the Church. It may be said of him, as a pre- siding officer, that the utmost impartiality characterized all his official acts. When it became evident that the work of this great and good man was finished, his character shone out more and more clear, and, like the sun at setting, the graces of M'Kendree were more fully developed as he was nearing the horizon of time; and, like that sun, which, on the eve of a calm, quiet summer day, goes gently down in a cloudless sky, so sweetly sank the dying saint. The lasi response of this faithful watchman on Zion's walls, tc his companion -watchers, was, "All is well, all is well/" KEV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 40i CHAPTER XXV. SKETCH OF REV. DAVID YOUNG. The father and mother of the Rev. David Young wer* both of Scotch descent. The ancestors of his father be- longed to the clan of the Campbells, and tradition says i< was not for convenience but for safety that they went ovei to the north of Ireland; and some century and a half since some of them suffered extremely in the celebrated siege of Derry. His grandfather came to North America, and landed at Newcastle, Delaware, in 1742, his father then being one year old, and moved westward into the neighborhood of Havre de Grace, perhaps on the place where Hughes's: Iron Works were afterward erected, and which were burned by the British in the last war. His father settled in Bedford county, Virginia, where young David was born, March 7, 1779, and the next year he removed to Washington county, in the same state, where David was raised, in a place and at a time where and when religious privileges and experience were very little known or prized. His father belonged to High Kirk, and his mother thought there was nothing like the Erskines and their secession. They both were firm be- lievers in the Westminster Confession of Faith and Fish- er's Catechism. The old gentleman had a good library for the times, where the son could at least examine one side of the question between Churchmen and Dissenters, and Calvinists and Arminians, and this he was careful to do, as the sequel will show. 408 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF He was ta ight the Lord's Prayer, and the Creed, and Catechisms, both "shorter" and "longer," and he could repeat them with great fluency when quite a small boy. This was thought too wonderful, and the way he was praised might inspire any thing but humility. He says in a communication to me, "Among the earliest recollections of my life the thoughts of invisible beings and agencies were the most common and important. The beings called God and devil, the places called heaven and hell, the things called death, judgment, and eternity, were the subjects of my childish meditations, thousands of times before 1 was five years old." In the summer of 1786 he went to meeting with some of the family, and during the first prayer was so deeply convicted that he had sinned against God, his King and Savior, that his heart was melted, and he wept in bitter- ness of soul. But shame quenched his feelings and tears, and he relapsed into indifference. From this time till the fall of 1790 there was nothing very uncommon in the ex- ercises of his mind. At that time, however, he was pow- erfully awakened by the Holy Spirit; and though there was nobody that he knew who prayed in secret, yet it was his constant practice for nearly a year. Those were dark times in religion. Possibly, if he had been blessed with the company of some one to have taken him by the hand and directed him in the right way, he might have been kept from falling away. Many a child no older have I seen happy in God's love, and there is nothing to prevent ill young children from being truly pious. He brokr through the restraints his parents imposed, particularly by desecrating the Sabbath day, and made continuous efforts to throw off the influences of the Holy Spirit. H« did not, however, succeed in his rebellion. In February, 1796, being sent one evening, with some other boys, to fix the boiling apparatus for making maple sugar, they REV. JAMES B. FINLET. 409 had a brand of fire with them, and, passing by an exceed- ingly large poplar- tree, whose roots projected far out above ground, one of them being hollow, they put the fire-brand to an aperture seven or eight feet from the trunk, and dis- covered a very strong draught of air ascending up the hol- low tree. It suddenly caught fire, and in a few minutes blazed out sixty or seventy feet high, where one of the forks had fallen off and left free vent to the air. In a short space of time brother Young lay down on the ground to peep in the hole, and saw the lava running down in a. stream as thick as his arm. The heat was so intense that the light partly blinded him. At that junc- ture the remaining fork of the tree, weakened by the fire, snapped off with a great noise. He sprung to his feet, and ran with all the speed that fear could inspire. By the time this great branch of the tree struck the ground he was sixty-three feet from the stump of the poplar, having providentially passed under this great half-tree beyond where its fork fell on the ground. Nothing struck him except the burning bark, which flew off and crushed him down to the earth amidst its fiery coals. If he had lain still at the root of the tree no evil would have be- fallen him. The other boys, however, came and pulled him up out of the fire. They found him by his groans, with his clothes some burnt, and his hat cut through in two or three places, and his head all in a gore of blood, together with his collar-bone broken. Unprepared for death, how narrowly did he escape ! His father was a farmer in easy circumstances, and attended to the education of his children ; and so well had David improved his opportunities, that when time had legally made him his own master, he taught a grammar school two years in Hawkins and Sullivan counties, Tenn. On the 27th of June, 1803, he left his father's, in Vir- ginia, and went to what w r as then called the "far west/' ±10 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF now Middle Tennessee. Sunday, August 14th, the Meth odists had a quarterly meeting on Mill creek, near Green Hills, where were assembled a strange mixture of people. Among the rest were what have since been called the ''Cumberland Presbyterians," who seemed to be as nu- merous and as busy as the others. It was impossible to tell who had the direction of the meeting; but they preached and prayed very well. David, however, left on Tuesday, and went to a dance. Afterward, while riding all alone, thinking about the late quarterly meeting, he meditated on some of the- awkward expressions in the prayers of the new converts. His pride said, or the devil told him, that he could pray better him- self. So he made a form of prayer for them, and suc- ceeded in putting his form into words. At that moment this query rushed into his mind, "What are you doing?" This inquiry turned a pleasant evening into gloomy hor- ror, and, in lieu of making prayers for others, he began to pray for himself with all the faith and earnestness in his power, accompanied with a flood of tears. From this time he prayed morning and evening, with strange and indescribable feelings and opposition. A stranger in a strange land, he was afraid to pray near the people's houses, lest he should be seen ; he dare not go far off, lest the snakes in the cane-brake would bite him ; and when he went out into the lanes the devil made use of the horned cattle to drive him from his devotions. Previously the Lord had converted some of his relations who dwelt in Western Tennessee. W T hen he got among them he waa encouraged. Attending their meetings, when called on he prayed with and for them, though his own sins were not yet forgiven. His poor soul was in great distress, and his constant cry was, " What shall I do to be saved ?" He strove about twenty-seven days to "enter in at the strait gate." His heart condemned him, and he knew that " God REV. JAMES B. FIN LEY. 41] was greater than his heart," and would also condemn him With these views and feelings he went to another "big meeting," as they were then called, Friday, September 16th, and Sunday, 18th. There was a mighty shaking among the people, while he stood condemned, distressed, and in the agonies of indescribable anguish, not to say distraction. He could neither sleep nor eat, under an im- pression, right or wrong, that unless he obtained peace with God before the meeting closed, he must perish eter- nally. God, who pities the distressed, pitied him, and en- abled him, by faith in Jesus Christ, to trust in his blood. He was astonished at the effects of simple faith, and was transported with the joys of believing. On the 19th of September, 1803, between nine and ten o'clock, A. M., the Lord spoke peace to his soul. He walked out in the woods, and the trees reminded him of this injunction, "Clap your hands!" All nature seemed joyous, and, as grace had brought peace and harmony to his heart, so all visible objects seemed to partake of the blissful change. Christians need not expect, however, to be exactly alike in their experience. Luther and Bunyan in this respect differed widely from most of their followers who were real Christians. Being desirous to see his parents, he returned to his father's in Virginia, on the last day of October, 1803, ripped off his ruffles, and cut off his long hair, and re- mained in that vicinity a few weeks, an astonishment and a by-word to all his former acquaintance. He returned to Tennessee, and resumed his occupation, April 1, 1804, and pursued the business of teaching till admitted into the traveling connection. But during this period his mental exercises were powerful, mostly with respect to his call to preach the Gospel. Many an anxious day and sleepless night did he pass through. These conflicts were mostly like other men's, perhaps, except that he wa.« more 412 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF unyielding than common; for it is certain he never would have been a Methodist preacher if he had not believed that his soul would be lost unless he became one. His under- standing and conscience forbade him being any thing else. His mother, sister, and brother William were all happily converted to God during the summer of 1804, which served as an incentive to his piety. In this year that strange disorder "the jerks" overran all Western Ten- nessee. It attacked the righteous and the wicked — an involuntary muscular exercise, which drew the subjects affected backward and forward with a force and quick- ness perhaps previously unknown to the human family. Five hundred of these subjects might sometimes be seen in one congregation, all in various motion, from twitching the head up to bending the whole body — first backward, and then forward, the head nearly touching the ground forward and backward alternately. Some people thought it belonged to, if it did not make a part of, the Christian religion, others that it was the work of the devil; and brother Young thought that the devil had a hand therein, to bring religion into disrepute. The wildness which seems to have been generated about Cane Ridge, Kentucky, spread down south in com- pany with the jerks, having first made Newlights, as Stone and Purviance, and Shakers, as Dunlevy and M'Nemar. At the same time the Methodists and Pres- byterians had a kind of union, based on the opinion, it would seem, that every body would suddenly be good, and Disciplines and Creeds would be needed no more. The Methodists revived their Discipline, and saved most of their people. The Newlights and Shakers made havoc with the Presbyterians, and what is now called the "Cumberland Presbyterians" made a great breach in the Church. Rutherford county, where he resided, was a frontier set U E V . JAMES B. FINLEY. 413 tlement at that time ; so he was graciously almost out of the noise and hearing of all religious tumults. Their mis- fortune was, to have almost no kind of religion in their neighborhood; so they tried to preach, exhort, and pray, James Rucker and himself. God owned their endeavors, and there were about one hundred and fifty who professed religion on Stone's river and Smith's Fork during the summer of 1805; but they were not in the Church; so they got one of the Nashville circuit preachers to come out and form them into classes, pledging himself to take them into the circuit next year. Being recommended by one of these classes, without quarterly meeting, circuit, or station, brother Young was admitted on trial in the traveling connection by the following document ; namely : " To David Young, — You think it your duty to call sinners to repentance. Make full proof hereof, and wc shall rejoice to receive you as a fellow-laborer. " Lewis Garret, j " September 7, 1805." This may be a literary curiosity to some of the bovs of the present day, who think the Methodist Episcopal Church can not make a traveling preacher unless they first localize him. The next Western conference sat in Scott county, Kentucky, October 2, 1805, at which he was appointed to Salt River and Shelby circuit. But Wayne circuit having but one preacher on it, brother Young was changed to Wayne circuit, in the south side of Kentucky. This was done by the concurrence of William Burke and William M'Kendree, as the case seemed absolutely to require it. On the last week in October, a sacramental meeting was held at the Beach meeting-house, near William M' Gee's, Western Tennessee, where he first saw that great and good man, William M'Kendree, whose equal in every respect has not vet adorned the Methodist 414 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF Episcopal Church; and yet, by some fatality, no man furnishes us with his memoirs. He gave him the plan of his circuit, and on the first Thursday in November, 1 805, he met his first appointment, as a traveling preacher, at Manoah Lassley's, on Green river, Kentucky. His colleague — William Ellington — was a very good- natured, easy kind of a man. Their circuit swarmed with Newlights and Freewill Baptists. Ellington let them all stay in class meeting, but brother Young turned them all out; and this made Ellington popular, and they ran to him with their complaints, and even carried them up to M'Ken- dree, their presiding elder. On examination of the circum- stances, the presiding elder ordered brother Young to take charge of the circuit, despite of all remonstrance. Elling- ton was delighted, but brother Young was alarmed at hav- ing the charge of a circuit. There were a great number dropped and expelled on the circuit this year, but the Lord made up all their losses with a small increase of numbers. His health was not very good, but his appoint- ments were all filled, averaging thirty each and every four weeks throughout the year. During this appointment the following persons were licensed to exhort: Lewis Anderson, J. T. Williams, Wil- liam Lewis, and Isaac M'Kowen, all of whom were after- ward traveling preachers. Isaac M'Kowen's mother was a widuw, and her house a preaching-place, at which brother Young had an appoint- ment on the day of the total eclipse, in 1806. When it began to grow dark, the ignorant Dutch and Irish inhab- itants of the neighborhood ran to meeting, some for the first time, not waiting to change clothes, or put on their shoes; and before preaching closed, the house and the yard were filled with the worst-frightened congregation that ever was seen. The preacher exhorted them to be religious, and escape the "blackness of darkness forever." KEV. JAMES B. ^L\LEi r . 4] 5 He visited his parents in Virginia, and returned to the annual conference, which assembled at Ebenezer Noli- chucky's, East Tennessee, September 15, 1806. It was at this conference the celebrated propositions and services of Dr. Coke, as bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church, were rejected. His next appointment was to Levingston circuit, Ken- tucky, extending from Hopkinsville to Tennessee river, and from the Ohio river south to Clarksburg, Tennessee, a district too large for a modern presiding elder, and a dis- tance to reach it of seven degrees of longitude — at least five hundred miles. Crazy Kate said, "The Lord tem- pers the wind to the shorn lamb;" it must be so, for where are the men and horses now that would perform such journeys? Before getting once round his circuit, he was taken with severe chills every day, alternated with violent fevers. The chills ceased, and the fever increased for two weeks, when he fell into a kind of stupor, partly senseless, unless roused up; and then he lay four weeks longer, neither doctor nor friends expecting him to live. For nine weeks he never saw the sun. When he began to mend the blood had ceased to circulate in his feet and ankles; and when it again began to circulate, such twinging, prickling, and excessive pain he says he never felt before or since. This was the first time he ever had the ague, but he had it more. or less every one of the next nine years. It was a kind providence toward him that he fell sick at old brother Meanly's. It was a very kind family of pious people. They took care of him as though he had been one of themselves, for which may God reward them in time and eternity ! The old gentleman's son John was after- ward a traveling preacher. While he lay at Meanly's, M'Kendree, his presiding elder, came to see him. He asked him to write his will. Having told him what dis 410 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF position was to be made of his farms and personal prop- erty, he began talking wild, and told him what he wished done with a boat-load of ingots of silver, which he imag- ined was coming from South America by way of New Orleans. At the mention of this last subject M'Kendrce threw down the pen and burst into tears, which roused him up. The good man was not only sorry because he was sick, but he was exceedingly grieved at his being delirious. Near Meanly's, and in the vicinity of the town of Do- ver, only across the Cumberland river, on the highest eastern bluff, there was a curious Indian burying-ground. with only six graves in it. Each of these graves was .ined with four stones — a head and foot, and two long side-stones, measuring from seven and a half to eight feet for each grave. The edges of these gravestones seemed as if they had been placed even with the surface, and sub- sequent winds had blown away six inches of the upper- soil. Each stone was cut at right angles, and was well dressed with some kind of tools. There were no rocks of the same quality known to be in all that region of coun- try. Here brother Young would wander to meditate. He was in tolerable health through the summer, and had some prosperity in his own soul, and some increase on his circuit. In that place lived the father of Petei Cartwright, and the mother of E. Wilcox, his half-brother. In one of the most populous settlements on this cir- cuit, there were two, classes, and, of course, two leaders. The classes were not very religious, except when they were at meeting ; then they were exceedingly noisy. The leaders were both drunken ; so when S. got drunk, he posted away to M'C.'s, confessed, and got forgiven; and when M'C. got drunk, he hastened to S., and he foigave him. They quoted Scripture for all — claimed rights sev- enty times seven. He could not begin to administer disci- REV. JAMES B. FINLE*. 417 pline without removing these leaders; and it was like lead- ers, like members ; so they did not want new leaders, and would not turn out the old ones for getting drunk; but referring their cases to quarterly meeting conference, they got rid of the principal inebriates, and the few good mem- bers rejoiced and increased greatly, not only in that soci- ety, but generally on the circuit. They excluded over one hundred, yet they had a net increase of more than fifty. This fall, conference was appointed at Chilicothe, Ohio, September 14, 1807. On his way thither he fell sick in Lexington. The preachers left him, and in a few days he rode out to brother H 's, twelve miles, where liis fever increased, till he believed the family thought he must die. They were afraid, as it got spread through the neighborhood that his disease was contagious; and had it not been for a good old sister G., who came to see him, he might have died ; but she went home and got her husband to bring a two-horse hack, with a bed in it, and take him home with him, where he was very kindly nursed a whole month, till able to ride. Thus far my old friend and brother has furnished me with a sketch of his past history. His subsequent history is the history of the Church in the west ; for he has been identified with all her movements. His mature judgment and well-cultivated mind enabled him to render good service to the Church in all her ecclesiastical councils. Brother Young is still living, although much advanced, and quite feeble, being in his seventy-fifth year. The personal appearance of brother Young is somewhat pe- culiar, and would strike a stranger with a little surprise as he would gaze upon his tall, slender, and perfectly-erect form, his sharp and expressive features, a keen and piercing ey€, rather deeply seated in his forehead, and the luxuriant folds of hair of snowy whiteness, which fall down over his shoulders. As a minister he always ranked far above ine- 27 418 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF diocrity. When in his prime few had greater power in the pulpit. His mind possessed great vigor and reach of thought; and had he devoted himself to writing, his pro- ductions would have exhibited great terseness and power. For many years he rilled the office of presiding elder, always attending his appointments with the precision of clock-work. He has for a long time been one of the trus- tees of the Ohio University, at Athens, and his wise coun- sels in that board have always been appreciated by his co- temporaries. As it regards his habits, it may be said, no minister ever had better, and none ever observed them more closely. But few of the old pioneer fathers remain. On Q by one they are falling around us; and here ana there we find them standing in our midst, like the few an- cient trees of the forest, to tell what was its ancient glo?y. KEY. JAMES B. FINLEY. 419 CHAPTER XXVI. SKETCH OF REV. JOHN P. FINLEY. The Rev. John Patterson Finley, my brother, was born on the 13th of June, 1783, in the state of North Carolina in September, 1810, he received license to preach in the Methodist Episcopal Church. Having received a classical education, he was early called to take charge of literary institutions; and from that time till 1822 he labored in thai department with great success in different parts of the state of Ohio. During this time, however, he laborea much in the pulpit, and strove hard to show himself ap- proved of God, "a workman that needeth not to be ashamed." In 1822 he was appointed Professor of Languages in Augusta College, Kentucky, the oldest Methodist College in the west, now a heap of smoldering ruins. This insti- tution, the first-born child of the Church, cost much care and anxiety, and, alas! regrets. I have letters to show the part I took in the establishment of the institution ; ay, in the earliest incipient movements connected with it, and, hence, the reader will indulge me in what remarks I may deem it proper to make. Augusta College, like Cokesbury,' seems to have been a child of destiny, to have been born under some malig- nant star. Patronized by the two largest conferences in the west, having a faculty, from time to time, composed of the brightest stars that shone in the galaxy of western literature, such as Durbin, Tomlinson, Bascora, Fielding, and others, and having for her alumni a host of talented men in every profession, scattered all over the country, 420 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF still, like an ill-guided, but richly-freighted vessel in h stormy sea, she foundered and went down, and the waters closed over her unhappy fate forever. During the connection of my brother John with Au- gusta College, he was received into the traveling connec- tion, and, as far as his professional duties would allow, hfe preached the word, "instant in season and out of season." His connection with this college lasted till May, 1825, when it was terminated by death. Professor Bascom, the great pulpit orator of the west, one of his colleagues in the faculty, and who has himself since passed away to the world of rest, paid the following tribute to his memory : "I have thought I could not spend an hour more profit- ably, this evening, than in sketching a few imperfect no- tices of the late Rev. John P. Finley, of the Methodist Episcopal Church. I became acquainted with the amia- ble and worthy subject of these recollections in 1815. From that time to the period of his death, I possessed his confidence, and enjoyed his friendship ; and, perhaps, ne one of his numerous friends knew his mind and heart more intimately than I, during a term of nearly ten years. He has frequently assured me that even his own family knew less of him than I did, and that I had understood hi? whole heart. I may, therefore, be permitted to say a few things to preserve from oblivion the name and services of an able minister of the New Testament, and devoted friend of mankind. John P? Finley was certainly no ordinary man, whether we consider his natural parts, his literary pretensions, or 'his gracious attainments. Nature had done much for him. various learning had largely contrib- uted to improve him, and Christianity had perfected him into a model worthy of imitation. By nature he possessed a strong, manly, and ingenuous mind ; his education was good, and well directed through life; his Christian char- REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 421 acter was of the first order; and all conspired to rendei him strikingly interesting, both in and out of the pulpit. liut as my remarks will be almost entirely confined to recollection, I can only furnish an imperfect outline of the character of my deceased friend. It has long been my im- pression, that men of distinguished worth in our Church, who have been removed from their 'labor of love' on earth, have not received those distinctive marks of respect, in the official obituary notices of the Church, to which they have been obviously entitled, from the elevation of their character, and the nature and value of their services ; and I would wish, that in all such notices, instead of a general and indiscriminate commendation of piety and usefulness, our numerous readers might be able to form some accu- rate idea of the peculiar and distinguishing attributes of character in each individual, becoming the subject of bio- graphical report. If men, and especially ministers, are to be 'esteemed in love for their works' sake,' they ought certainly to be esteemed and held up to imitation, in pro- portion to the nature and extent of their relative useful- ness, as well as aggregate worth of character. I mean to say, simply, without indulging in any thing censorious, that it is the duty of the living among us, to report faithfully, and with some particularity, the various usefulness and diversified excellence of the dead. In looking over, re- cently, some scores of notices of the death and character of our deceased ministers, I have observed a generality of description, a sameness of report, which, I fear, is calcu- lated to make an impression, unfriendly to the well-known fact, that we have had in our Church a great variety of talent and usefulness : and certainly it belongs to the his- tory of the Church, the biography of her distinguished individuals, to point out, and clearly develop, the divers- ity of talent, character, and labor, of which we are now speaking. . . . But to return to our subject. 122 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF "John P. Finley was born in North Carolina, June 13, 1 783. From childhood he was marked as possessing no common share of intellect. He was early placed at school, and while in his abecedarian course, he evinced an apti- tude to learn, that induced his father, a distinguished Pres- byterian clergyman, who is now, at the age of seventy, a Methodist traveling preacher, to give him a classical edu- cation. -Owing to his habits of industry and persever- ance, he soon acquired a competent knowledge of the sciences, and a reputable acquaintance with the learned languages. Of the English language he was a perfect master, and taught its proper use with almost unrivaled success. From the age of twelve or fourteen years, he was often deeply affected with a sense of sin, and the import- ance of repentance and faith ; but his mind was so much perplexed with the doctrines of absolute personal predesti- nation, of which his father was then a strenuous and able asserter, that he came to no decision on the subject of religious opinions, till he reached the years of manhood. About the age of twenty-one he married, and soon after was brought to the knowledge of salvation by the remission of his sins. Early after his conversion, he was convinced that a 'dispensation of the Gospel' had been committed to him. He weighed well the impressions and convictions of his mind and heart, in relation to the fearful and respon- sible business of a Christian minister; but when finally and fully convinced of his duty, he did not hesitate. There were indeed many reasons why he should confer with flesh and blood; but, with his characteristic firmness, he re- jected them all, and took the pulpit, I think, in 1811. At the time of his conversion he resided in Highland county, Ohio. His ministerial career was commenced during a residence in Union, Greene county, Ohio, whither he had been called to take charge of a seminary. At the head of this institution he continued about six years, living and KEV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 428 preaching the religion of Christ in its native simplicity and power. "From Union he removed to Dayton, distant only about thirty miles, and conducted an academy in this place for two years. It was here our acquaintance and intimacy commenced, which ended only with his useful life. He left Dayton, beloved and regretted of all, and accepted a call to superintend a respectable seminary in Steubenville, Ohio. In this place he continued not quite two years. In his ministerial exertions he was 'instant in season and oui of season/ and labored with more than ordinary success. His next remove was to Piqua, Ohio, where he continued as principal of an academy for four years. In all these places his pulpit efforts were highly acceptable ; his social intercourse seasoned with dignity and piety, and his resi- dence a blessing to all about him. From this place he made his last remove to Augusta, Kentucky. Here he taught a classical school for some time, and was afterward appointed principal of Augusta College, in which relation he continued till the time of his death. In these severai places his labors in the pulpit were considerable, and ex- tensively useful. All who knew him esteemed him as a man of talents and irreproachable Christian character. He was, indeed, all in all, one of the most amiable, guile- less men I ever knew: never did I know a man more perfectly under the influence of moral and religious prin- ciple. His uniform course was one of high and unbend- ing rectitude. " One error, as reported in the 'Minutes,' respect- ing his conversion, I must beg leave to correct. I do it upon his own authority, when living, and that of his brother, the Rev. James B. Finley, superintendent of the Wyandott mission. There is something rather remarkable in the manner in which these worthy ministers were tirst wrought to reflect with more than ordinary concern upon 424 ATTTOBtOGRAl>nr Of their latter end. John and James were amusing them selves in the forest with their guns; and as John was sit- ting carelessly upon his horse, James's gun accidental!) went off, and the contents came very near entering John's head. The brothers were mutually alarmed, humbled, and thankful ; they were more than ever struck with the melancholy truth, that 'in the midst of life we are in death.' They reflected upon their unpreparedness to meet death, and appear in judgment. Each promised the other he would reform ; and the result was, they were both led to seek religion, as the only preparation for eternity. Both the brothers agree in stating that this circumstance was the means, in the hand of God, of their awakening and conversion, as neither of them was in the habit of attending the preaching of the Gospel before the inquie- tude and alarm created by this occasion. I have been thus minute in detailing the immediate means of his con- version, at the request of a surviving brother, in whose estimation the apparent incompetency of the means mag- nifies the grace of God, in this singular dispensation of blended mercy and providence. "John P. Finley was in the ministry about fifteen years. He was ordained deacon by Bishop Asbury, on the 17th of September, 1815. He received ordination as elder at the hands of Bishop Roberts, July 2, 1 820. At the time of his death he was a member of the Kentucky annual conference, actively dividing his time and energies between tlr°, business of collegiate instruction and the labor of the pulpit. "As a man, the subject of these recollections was en- gagingly amiable, ingenuous, and agreeable. Equally removed from affectation and reserve, the circle in which he moved felt the presence of a friend, and the influence of a Christian and minister. "As a teacher, his excellence was acknowledged by all EEV. JAMES £. FINLEY. 425 who were competent to decide upon his claims; and though he gloried more in being found a pupil in the school of Christ, yet he was no stranger to the academy and lyceum. c 'As a husband, there is one living whose tears have been his eulogy, and to whom, with his orphan children, friendship inscribes these lines. "As & father, he was worthy of his children; and in pointing them to another and better world, he was always careful to lead the way himself. "As a friend, he was warm, ardent, and confiding, and not less generous than constant. His intimate friends, however, were few and well selected. "As a minister, in the pulpit, he was able, impressive, and overwhelming. The cross of his redemption was his theme; and in life and death it became to him the 'em- phasis of every joy.' In all these relations I knew him well, and can, therefore, speak from the confidence of per- sonal knowledge and accredited information. "The last time I saw him, I preached a sermon, at his request, on the 'Inspiration of the Scriptures.' When I had retired to my room, he called on me, in company with a friend, and, in his usual frank manner, embraced me, and observed, ' H , I thank you for that sermon, and I expect to repeat my gratitude in heaven.' Little did I think at this interview that I was gazing on my friend for the last time, and that in eighteen months his ripened virtues were to receive the rewards of the heavenly world ! But so it was ; and I, less fit to die, am spared another and another year. "He died on the 8th of May, 1825, in the forty-secc/xl year of his age, and sixteenth of his ministry; and a. the same time that this bereaved family wept upon his grave, the sadness of the Church told that she had lost one of her brightest ornaments. Just before his triumphant spirit 36 42G AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP rose to sink and sigh no more, he was asked how he fell» and what were his prospects upon entering the dark val- ley and shadow of death. He replied, in language worthy of immortality, 'Not the shadow of a doubt; I have Christ within, the hope of glory. That comprehends all !' and then, with the protomartyr, he ' fell asleep/ " Such is a very imperfect sketch of the life, character, and death of John P. Finley. God grant, reader, that you and I may share the glory that gilded the last hours of his toil !" I will close this sketch by inserting the Rev. Jonathan Stamper's dream. He was intimately acquainted with my brother, and the remarkable dream which he had was in relation to him. It was communicated to me as follows : " I was much attached to brother Finley and he to me. We lived in habits of the closest intimacy and ChristiaD confidence. He was taken ill when I was at a distance, and the news of his sickness and death came together to me. I felt that I had lost one of my best friends, and mourned for him as a dear brother departed, and probably that gave rise to the dream. In my slumbers I thought 1 went to his house, where I used often to go with pleasure in his lifetime. He welcomed me at the door with his usual urbanity. I was glad to see him, and he expressed great joy to see me, though I knew he was dead. W* sat down side and side by the fire. I was at once filled with curiosity to learn something from him respecting the world of spirits. He looked at me earnestly, and said, " 'Brother, you are filled with curiosity?' "I replied, 'Yes, my mind has taken a very curious turn.' " ' Well,' said he, 'ask me any question you see proper, and I will satisfy you so far as I can consistently with thf laws of the country where I live.' KEY. JAMES B. FINLEY. 427 " I then proceeded, and asked, ' Brother, are you happy V *' ' Yes,' said he, ' I am happy as heaven can make me. " I then asked, 'When you died did you enter immedi- ately into heaven?' " 'No/ said he; 'but I immediately started for it, and J was the space of three days arriving there, though I flew with more than the velocity of a sunbeam. I passed beyond the boundaries of this system, and lost sight of the most distant star that twinkles in these skies, and entered into thick and uninterrupted darkness.' Then parsing, he looked at me most expressively, and said, 'O, hell is a solemn reality! After this,' said he, 'I all at once bmst into the glories of heaven.' " Said 1, ' The Scriptures represent heaven as a glori- ous city, such a one as was never seen on earth, and by other splendid and beautiful imagery. Is this entirely figurative, or is it a literal description ?' "'It is,' said he, 'partly figurative and partly real. Heaven is a local residence, gloriously fitted up for the abode of saints and angels, where the glory of God is re- vealed to an extent that is not known in any other pari of his dominion, where the glorified humanity of Jesus is ever seen and admired by the whole company of heaven. There is nothing material there, but all spiritual, immate- rial, and imperishable. All the beautiful imagery of the Scriptures are there seen, though of a spiritual character, such as the trees ever green, the golden streSts, etc' "I then inquired if the saints in heaven knew each «ither. " ' More perfectly,' said he, ' than they did here. 1 knew at sight all the patriarchs, prophets, and apostles.' " I then desired to know if the saints in heaven were Hcquainted with the affairs of earth. "'Only,' said he, 'as they are permitted to visit the 428 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF earth, as I am at this time. This they often do, aiid are sometimes sent as ministering angels.' "After this he said, 'I desire to know how you are getting on in the work of God.' " I replied, ' About as we were when you used to bo with us.' " He then asked, * Do the Methodists pay their preach- ers no better than formerly ?' " I said, ' No.' " • 0/ said he, 'what a pity — what a pity ! The itiner- ant plan is the plan of God. He designs it to take the world, and nothing will prevent it but a want of liberality in our people. But,' said he, " you must never locate. God has called you to this work. He will support you. You will live to be a very old man, and may be very useful.' He then repeated, with a very heavy em- phasis, 'You must never locate. If I had my life to live again, I would travel if I begged my bread from door to door. You know I often told you I believed it was my duty to travel, and had I obeyed I should have shone much brighter in heaven than I now do.' He then added, with a most affectionate ton«* and look, ' 0, brother, don't locate ; God will support you.' He then reached up to the chimney-piece, and took down a considerable roll of bank-notes of the most singular and beautiful appearance I had ever seen, and, handing them to me, he said, 'Here, these are for you.' " I said, ' Brother, I would rather you would give that money to your wife. You know your family are depend- ent.' " He answered, ' No ; it is for you. There is a bank in heaven for the support of itinerant preachers, and this is for you.' I then took it. He then said, ' It is almost time for me to go ; but we must worship together before we part.' He sang loud and animated, and while I was RFV. JAMES B. FINLEY 429 praying he shouted aloud, as he used often to do when we were together at meeting. My soul became filled. I never was more happy; and even after I awoke my very heart sung praises to God. He then bade me an affec- tionate adieu, we parted, and I awoke." 430 ATTTOBIOGRAriir OF CHAPTER XXVII. SKETCH OF THE REV. WILLIAM B. CHRISTIE. T have already alluded to this beloved brother, and piopose furnishing my readers with a short sketch of his useful life. Brother Christie was born in Williamsburg, Clermont county, Ohio, on the 2d of September, 1803. In early life he embraced religion and joined the Methodist Epis- copal Church. In the year 1825 he was admitted into the traveling connection and appointed to Union circuit. He was called to fill some of the most important appoint- ments in the gift of the Church. In the several import- ant fields of labor he sustained himself well as a minister, and by his zeal and fidelity he proved, under God, a great blessjng to the Church. " That his labors were those of an accredited embassador of Christ is attested by thousands who were blessed with his ministrations. Numerous witnesses of the power of Christ to save were raised up through his instrumentality. That he pos- sessed the affection and confidence of his brethren and companions in toil is evident from the fact that, by their suffrages, he was thrice honored with a seat in the Gen- eral conference." The personal appearance of brother Christie was pre possessing in an eminent degree. He was somewhat above the medium hight. His hair was black as a raven, his eyes dark and piercingly brilliant, and, when lighted up fully with the inspiration of his theme, they shot un- earthly fires. About his countenance there was a bland RE?. JAMES B. FINLEY. 431 and sometimes almost seraphic sweetness, especially when, with soft and measured cadences, he would labor to win his rapt and listening audiences to the cross, or bear them away on imagination's wing to heaven. His equal in the pulpit for fervid oratory we never saw before; his like in rapid, impassioned eloquence we never expect to look upon again. His ambition — and who that excels has it not? — was of that towering kind which sought to rise above all others, but never stooped in envious flight to pluck another's honors. I will refer to the admirably-written memoir contained in the Minutes of the Ohio conference for 1843: "As a man, brother Christie was ingenuous, guileless, magnanimous, and ardent in affection. Dignified in de- portment and courteous in his manners, he won the affec- tions of all with whom he had intercourse. His mental endowments were of a high order, and having in youth enjoyed the advantages of a college life at Augusta, under the presidency of the Rev. John P. Finley, he received that training and acquired those elements and principles which qualified him for the attainment of those stores of knowledge which, in after life, were so richly developed during his ministerial career. Hence, as a divine, it has been justly remarked, that he had few equals, if any superiors. Profoundly versed in the science of theology and ecclesiastical polity, in the pulpit and on the confer- ence floor, he handled his subjects with a power and skill that rarely failed of success. But the pulpit, pre-emi- nently, was the theater of his greatness, and the suffer- ings of Christ the glory of his theme. Calm and col- lected in his introduction, cautious in the statement of his positions, cogent in his reasonings, apposite in his illustra- tions, and appropriate in his Scriptural quotations, he car ried conviction to the understandings of his audience, and iheii, rising wkh the inspiration of his subject, with the 4:32 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF fervor and pathos of his appeals, under the glowings ol the Spirit of God, he forced the citadel of the hearts of his hearers, and made them feel the power of the Gospel of Christ. Through him the violated law of God an- nounced its threatened penalty, the claims of Divine jus- tice were vindicated, till the sinner, self-condemned, was carried to the cross of Jesus, and offered and pressed foi his acceptance, by faith in the blood of atonement, a present, free, and full salvation. And, doubtless, many through his instrumentality were saved, and will shine as stars in his crown of rejoicing forever and ever. But this bright luminary in the moral heavens was destined to be quenched ere it had traveled the whole length of the ordinary path of human life. " In the early part of brother Christie's ministerial life his health failed him, owing to his abundant labors and his untiring assiduity in the pursuit of useful knowledge. Hence, for many years he suffered much affliction and almost continual pain, but did not intermit his labors till he was absolutely compelled to desist from his work and repair to the bosom of his friends to close his earthly career. For this purpose he left his station at Urbana, and went to the city of Cincinnati. But when he reached Dr. Wright's, in Cincinnati, on Tuesday evening, he was much prostrated, took his bed, and declined more rapidly than before. The next morning after he arrived, two min- isterial brethren called to see him. His face was flushed with fever, and his system wasted almost to a shadow. He was much affected at the interview, and said his nerves were shattered, but his confidence in God was un- shaken. He knew in whom he had believed. He had not preached an unknown or unfelt Savior, and the Gospel which he had long preached to others was then his conso- lation. The calls of his numerous friends so taxed his sympathy and his strength that his physicians found i\ REV. JAMES B. FIN LEY. 433 requisite to lay some restriction on them, or suffer him to be much hastened in his departure ; and, with all the care that could be taken by physicians and friends, he did not last long. "Among the numerous incidents indicating the state of his mind during the last hours of his earthly existence, only a few will be recited. "Saturday morning, a little after midnight, he re- quested a brother, who was sitting near him, to call Dr. Wright, who came in and found him rapidly sinking. He asked brother C. if he felt worse. His reply was, that he had great difficulty of breathing. After some means of temporary relief had been administered, he asked the Doctor, 'What does this mean?' In reply, the Doctor inquired if he would like to see some of his friends. Brother C. then said, 'Why do you ask the question? Do you think I am pretty near home?' On being in- formed that he was undoubtedly worse, he looked round upon his wife and friends, calm and collected, and said, ' I am not alarmed. I am not afraid to die.' Extending and looking at his hands, he remarked, ' Jesus, with his bleeding hands, will not thrust me away.' Next, he took his two little sons, embraced, and commended them to God. Soon after this, brother Sehon, having: been sent for, entered his room, to whom he extended his hand, and, with a countenance bright with hope, said, ' Brother Sehon, I am almost home.' After exchanging a few words, he requested brother S. to pray, and during the prayer he appeared to be perfectly happy. This over, he beckoned brother S. to his bed, and by him sent the fol- lowing message : ' Tell my brethren at the conference, if they think my name worthy of being mentioned, that ] have not preached an unknown and an unfelt Christ. Tell them, that though unworthy and unfaithful, that Gospel which I have preached to others now sustains me. 28 434 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF Tell the preachers to preach Christ and him crucified. Tell them my only hope, my only foundation, is in the blood of sprinkling. Precious blood! 0, the fullness, the sweetness, the richness of that fountain!' After praising God for some time, he turned his eyes on his weeping companion, and made some reference to his tem- poralities, but instantly observed, they were small mat- ters, little things, assuring her that God would provide for her and' his little children. About two o'clock Bishop Morris arrivea, and found him bolstered up in his bed, covered with the sweat of death, and much exhausted by the efforts he had made to speak, as above described. He, however, reached out his hand, and said distinctly, * I am almost home. I feel that God is good to me, and that Jesus Christ is my salvation.' No question was asked him, and, being exhausted, he desisted from speak- ing for a while, and then, looking at his distressed wife, we understood him to say, 'Jesus is precious.' When unable to articulate, he often lifted his cold hand in token of victory ; and again, as though anxious to make us un- derstand his meaning, he raised his hand high above his head, and waved it in triumph. After some time, he raised both hands at once, and extended them before him as if just rising on 'the wings of love and arms of faith ; and then, in an animating manner, brought his hands together, triumphing over death, his last enemy. At that time we supposed he would speak no more ; for when hia companion desired to hear his voice once more ~>n earth, he could only look at her and point his finger to heaven. However, not long before his exit he raised his hands high, and brother S. asked him if he wanted any thing. He shook his head. Brother S. then asked hinrif it was power and glory. His countenance brightened up, while he nodded his head affirmatively, and his strength return- ing to him, he shouted aloud, clapping his hands and giv- KKV. JAMES T5. FINLEY. 435 ing glory to God. The same peculiarity of manner, form of expression, and even gesture, which marked his pulpit and altar performances, were strikingly exhibited in his closing scene. To the last he seemed to be conscious and triumphant. About seven o'clock, Saturday morning, March 26, 1842, without a sigh or groan, his deathless spirit passed in peace and triumph from earth, to appeal before the presence of God with exceeding joy. The overwhelming crowd of all classes of people that thronged to his funeral at Wesley Chapel, and attended his remains to their last resting-place on earth, afforded abundant ev' aence of thp estimate they placed upon his character. 436 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF CHAPTER XXVIII. INDIAN BIOGRAPHY. HOXONCUE. This renowned chief of the Wyandott nation was aboul medium in stature, and remarkably symmetrical in form. He was one of the most active men I ever knew, quick in his motions as thought, and fleet as the roe in the chase, As a speaker, he possessed a native eloquence which was truly wonderful. Few could stand before the overwhelm- ing torrent of his eloquence. He was a son of Thunder. When inspired with his theme, he could move a large assembly with as much ease, and rouse them to as high a state of excitement, as any speaker I ever heard. There is a peculiarity in Indian eloquence which it is difficult to describe. To form a correct idea of its char- acter, you must be in the hearing and sight of the son of the forest; the tones of his voice and the flash of his eye must fall upon you, and you must see the significant movements of his body. As an orator, Mononcue was not surpassed by any chieftain. I will give a specimen or two of the eloquence of this gifted son of nature. Imagine yourself, gentle reader, in the depths of the forest, surrounded by hundreds of chiefs and warriors, all sunk in the degradation and darkness of Paganism. They have been visited by the missionary, and several converted Indian chiefs. One afier another the chiefs rise and address the assembly, but with no effect. The dark scowl of infidelity settles on their brows, and the frequent mutterings of the excited auditors REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 48V indicate that their speeches are not acceptable, and their doctrines not believed. At length Mononcue rises amidst confusion and disturb* ance, and ordering silence with a commanding voice, he addresses them as follows: "When you meet to worship God, and to hear from his word, shut up your mouths, and open your ears to hear what is said. You have been here several days and nights worshiping your Indian god, who has no existence, only in your dark and beclouded minds. You have been burning your dogs and venison for him to smell. What kind of a God or Spirit is he, that can be delighted with the smell of a burnt dog ? Do you suppose the great God that spread out the heavens, that hung up the sun and moon, and all the stars, to make light, and spread out this vast world of land and water, and filled it with men and beasts, and every thing that swims or flies, is pleased with the smell of your burnt dogs ? I tell you to-day, that his great eye is on your hearts, and not on your fires, to see and smell what you are burning. Has your worshiping here these few days made you any better? Do you feel that you have gotten the victory over one evil? No! You have not taken the first step to do better, which is to keep this day holy. This day was appointed by God himself a day of rest for all men, and a day on which men are to worship him with pure hearts, and to come before him, that he may examine their hearts, and cast out all their evil. This day is appointed for his ministers to preach to us Jesus, and to teach our dark and cloudy minds, and to bring them to light." He here spoke of the Savior, and his dying to redeem the world; that now life and salvation are freely offered to all that will forsake sin and turn to God. He adverted to the judgment day, and the awful consequences of being found in sin, and strangers to God. On this subject he was tremendously £38 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF awful. He burst into tears: he caught the handkerchiel from his head, and wiped them from his eyes. Many in the house sat as if they were petrified, while others wept in silence. Many of the females drew their blankets over their faces and wept. "Awful, awful day to the wicked !" said this thundering minister. " Your faces will look much blacker with your shame and guilt, than they do now with your paint." I have no doubt but God was with Monon- cue on this occasion, and that many were convicted of sin and a judgment to come. On the first of January, at our mission in Upper San- dusky, while I had charge of the same, I was called to bury one of our little flock, an aged woman, the mother of Jaco, and aunt to Mononcue. She lived at the Big Spring reservation, fifteen miles from the mission house. On the Sabbath before her death, I conversed with her about her future hopes. She rejoiced, and praised God that he had ever sent his ministers to preach Jesus to her and her peo- ple. "I have been trying," said she, "to serve God for years; but it was all in the dark, till the ministers brought the light to my mind, and then I prayed, and found my God precious to my poor soul. Now I am going soon to see him in his house above; and I want all my children, and grandchildren, and friends, to meet me in that good world." She died a few days after, in great peace. 1 was sent for, to go and bury her. Brother Riley and myself rode there in the night, and early in the morning com- menced making the coffin. It was late before we could finish it, and, consequently, late before the funeral was over. But I think I shall never forget the scene. It was between sundown and dark when we left with the corpse The lowering clouds hung heavily over us, and the virgin snow was falling. We entered a deep and lonely wood. four men carrying the bier, and the rest all following in Indian file When we came tc the burying-ground, the REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 439 Indians stood wrapped up in their blankets, leaning against the forest trees, in breathless silence; and all bore the as- pect of death. Not one word was said while the grave was filling up ; but from the daughter, and some of the grandchildren, now and then a broken sigh escaped. At last Mononcue broke out in the following strains : " Fare- well, my old and precious aunt! You have suffered much in this world of sin and sorrow. You set us all a good example, and we have often heard you speak of Jesus in the sweetest strains, while the falling tears have witnessed the sincerity of your heart. Farewell, my aunt! We shall no more hear your tender voice, that used to lull all our sorrows, and drive our fears from us. Farewell, my aunt! That hand that fed us will feed us no more. Fare- well to your sorrows : all is over. There your body must lie till the voice of the Son of God shall call you up. We weep not with sorrow, but with joy, that your soul is in heaven." Then he said, "Who of you all will meet her in heaven?" This was a feeling and happy time, and wc parted, I think, fully determined to die the death of the righteous. We rode home that night, fifteen miles, and felt greatly comforted in talking of the goodness of God and the power of his grace. "Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord from henceforth." Mononcue was of great service to the mission as a local preacher, and was always prompt in the discharge of every duty. He was " Bold to take up, firm to sustain The consecrated cross." Ready for every good word and work, he engaged with the utmost cheerfulness in every thing his brethren desired him to do, that would advance the cause of his Master [ was mest deeply attached to him, and lived on terms ot the most warm and confiding friendship during his life. But Mononcue, my faithful Indian friend and brother, it 440 AUTOBIOGRAPHY O* gone. "He has fought the good fight, he has finished nis course, he has kept the faith," and now he dwells with the Savior above. BETWEEN-THE-LOGS. The distinguished chief whose likeness the reader will find accompanying this biography, was born near Lower Sandusky, about the year 1780. His father was a Seneca, and his mother a Wyandott, belonging to the Bear tribe. When he was about eight or nine years old, his father and mother parted — a thing very common among the heathen Indians. After this, he lived with his father till the old man's death, by which time he had nearly arrived at man- hood. After the death of his father, he lived with his mother, among the Wyandotts. Of the particulars of his life, previous to this time, there is but little known. Not long after his return to his mother, he joined Indian war- riors, and with them suffered a defeat by the army under Gen. Wayne, in the decisive battle at the Rapids of Mau- mee. He then lived at Lower Sandusky. His good sense, persevering and enterprising disposition, with his prompt obedience to the commands of the chiefs, and faithful discharge of whatever duty was assigned him, be- gan to call him into public notice in the nation, and laid the foundation for his being promoted to the office of a chief; and because of his retentive memory, and ability in discussion, he was constituted chief-speaker of the nation. He soon became the intimate friend and counselor of the head chief. When he was about twenty-five years old, he was sent to fathom the doctrines and pretensions of a cel- ebrated Seneca Prophet, whose fallacy he soon detected. About two years afterward he was sent on a like errand lo a noted Shawnee Prophet — Tecumseh's brother — with whom he staid nearly a year, and then returned, convinced, and convincing others, that the Prophet's pretensions were all delusive, and destitute of truth. KEV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 441 Shortly after his return from this Prophet, the late war commenced. On the part of the Wyandotts, he and the head chief attended a great Indian council of the northern nations, at Brownstown, in which he firmly rejected all overtures to join in the war against the Americans, although surrounded by warriors attached to the opposite interest. They left the council, and) on their return to Sandusky, immediately joined the American cause. When Gen. Harrison invaded Canada, Between-the-loafs, in com- pany with a party of Wyandott chiefs and warriors, at- tended him. But the principal object of the chief, at this time, was to detach that part of the Wyandotts from the British interest, who, by the surrounding Indians, had, in a measure, been forced to join the English. This was effected. After the war, he became permanently settled in the neighborhood of Upper Sandusky. He now sometimes indulged in intemperance to excess, on which occasions unbridled passion got the better of his natural good sense. In one of these drunken fits he killed his wife. As well as I now recollect, Between-the-logs was excited to this deed by a wretch who owed her some ill-will, and took the opportunity of his drunkenness, and insisted that she was a bad woman, a witch, etc., and that he ought to kill her. For some time he maintained that she was a good woman, and refused; but was, at last, overcome, and stabbed her. When he became sober, the horror of this deed made so deep an impression on his mind, that from that day forth he measurably abandoned all use of ardent spirits. Being deeply impressed with a sense of the ne- cessity of a preparation for another world, and having a strong regard for his countrymen, he frequently be« sought them to forsake drunkenness, and pursue a right- eous life. In 1817 a new field opened for the exercise of hia 442 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF wisdom and courage. The United States having made arrangements to extinguish the Indian title to the lands claimed by them in Ohio, commissioners were sent to treai with them. The Wyandotts refused to sell their land; but the Chippewas, Potawatomies, and Ottowas, without any right, laid claim to a great part of their land. Ga- briel Godfroy and Whitmore Knaggs, Indian agents for these nations, proposed in open council, in behalf of the Chippewas, etc., to sell said land. The commissioners then declared, that if the Wyandotts would not sell their lands, they would buy them of the others. Between-the- logs firmly opposed all these measures ; but however just his cause, or manly his arguments, they were lost upon men determined on their course. The Wyandotts, finding themselves so circumstanced, and not being able to help themselves, were thus forced to sell on the terms proposed by the commissioners. They did the best they could, and signed the treaty ; but only from a strong hope that, by representing to the President and the government the true state of things, before the treaty was ratified, they should obtain some redress from government. In resorting to this course, Between-the-logs acted a principal part. Ac- cordingly he, with the Wyandott chiefs, and a delegation from the Delawares and Senecas, immediately proceeded to Washington, without consulting the Indian agents, or any other officer of government. When they were intro- duced to the Secretary of War, he remarked to them that he was surprised that he had received no information of their roming* by any of the agents. Between-the-logs answered with the spirit of a free man, " We got up, and came of ourselves. We believed the great road was free for us" He so pleaded their cause before the President, Secretary of War, and Congress, that they obtained an enlargement of their reservations, and an increase of an- nuities REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 443 About a year afterward the Gospel was introduced among the Wyandotts, by a colored man, named John Stewart. Between-the-logs was decidedly in its favor, and maintained its cause in the national council ; and when, some time afterward, I formed a Church among them, he was the first man who joined society, the first who turned his back on their old, heathen traditions. After he embraced religion, and his understanding be- came enlightened, he earnestly pressed upon his people the necessity of faith in Christ, and a life of righteous- ness. Soon after this, he was regularly appointed an ex- horter in the Church, in which station he remained till his death, a devoted friend and advocate of the cause of God. He also watched with unremitting diligence over the tem- poral interests of the nation ; enduring the fatigues of business, and of the longest journeys, for the welfare of his people, without complaint. He was uniformly an attendant upon the Ohio annual conference, at which he made some of the most rational and eloquent speeches ever delivered by an Indian before that body. He felt, and always manifested a deep interest in the welfare of the mission and school. The following address was delivered by Between-the- logs, at the anniversary of the Missionary Society, in the city of New York, in the spring of 1826. After giving a history of the introduction of the Roman Catholic religion into his nation, and the influence it had on his people, he says: "It is true, we went to Church on the Sabbath day, and then the minister preached; but we did not under- stand one word he said. We saw he kneeled down, and stood up, and went through motions with his great dress on; and when Church was out we all went to a place where they sold rum and whisky, got drunk, and went home drunk. He would tell us we must not get drunk; but he would drink himself, and frolic and dance on the 444 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF Sabbath. We counted our beads, and kept our crosses about our necks, or under our pillows, and would some- times pray to the Virgin Mary. But we were all as we were before. It made no change on us, and I began to think it was not as good as the religion of our fathers ; for they taught us to be good men and women, to worship the Great Spirit, and to abstain from all evil. Soon after, the Seneca Prophet came to our nation, and he told us that he had found the right way ; that he had a revelation and had seen and talked with an angel, and was directed to teach all the Indians ; that they must quit drinking, and must take up their old Indian religion, and offer their con- stant sacrifices, as their fathers had done, which had been neglected too much; and, on account of this, the Great Spirit had forsaken them. But if they would come back and follow him, that he would yet drive the white man back to his native home. We all followed him till we saw he went crooked, and did not do himself what he taught us to do. Then we followed him no more, but returned to our old course. Some time afterward came the Shaw- nee Prophet, the brother of Tecumseh, and he told us that a great many years ago there lived a prophet that had foretold the present state of the Indians, that they would be scattered and driven from their homes ; but that the Great Spirit had said that he would make them stand on their feet again, and would drive the white man back over the waters, and give them their own country ; that he had seen an angel, and he told him that all the Indians must quit drinking, and all turn to their old ways that their grandfathers had followed, and unite and aid to drive the whites from our country. Many believed and followed him. But I had got tired, and thought it was the best for me to keep on in the old way, and so we continued. Then the war came on, and we all went to drinking and fighting. When the war was over, we were a nation of drunkards, REV JAMES B. FINLEY. 445 and so wicked that the chiefs thought we must try and get up our old religion of feasting and dancing. We did our best to get our people to quit drinking. But while we were trying to reform, God sent a colored man named Stewart to us with the good Book. He began to talk, and sing, and pray; but we thought it was all nothing, and many made fun of him because he was a black man. The white traders told us we ought to drive him away ; for the white people would not let a black man preach for them. We, however, watched his walk, and found that he walked straight, and did as he said. At last the word took hold, and many began to listen, and believed it was right, and soon we began to pray, and we found that it was of God. Then others came, and they told us the same things. The work broke out, and God has done great things for us. I was among the first that took hold, and I found it was the religion of the heart, and from God. It made my soul happy, and does yet. The school is doing well. Our children are learning to read the good Book, and promise fair to make good and useful men. We thank you, our friends, for all the kindness and help you have shown us, and hope you will continue to help us till we can stand alone and walk. We will do our best to spread this religion at home, and send it to all nations. When at home I am accustomed to hear my brothers talk; but since I came here I can not understand what is said; I wonder if the people understand one another; for I see but little effect from what is said;" meaning that the Gospel preached had but little visible effect. I then followed, and gave some account of the mission, the work of God among the Indians, the school, farm, and our prospects generally. Rev. James Gilruth, who visited Between- the-logs in his last illness, which was pulmonary consumption, says: "On my first visit I strove to be faithful. I asked him 44() ATJ TOBIOGEAPHY OF of his hope. He said it was 'the mercy of God in Christ.' 1 asked him of his evidence. He said it was ' the comfort of the Spirit.' I asked him if he was afraid to die. He said, ' I am not.' I inquired if he felt resigned to go. He said, ' I have felt some desires of the world, but they are all gone. I now feel willing to die or live, as the Lord sees best.' Some days afterward I visited him again. I found his mind still staid on God ; but he was evidently approaching his dissolution. I informed him that there were some evidences that his son — Richard Reese, his only child — had experienced religion. He rejoiced, and said, ' I wish you to keep him at the mis- sion. It is the best place for him. Keep him at school ; keep him out of bad company.' A few days after this he closed his life, in peace with God and man, on the 1st of January, 1827, about the forty-sixth year of his age, and was buried in the graveyard by the meeting-house." I preached his funeral sermon to a large, attentive, and weeping company of his people, the mission family, etc. Between-the-logs was rather above the common stat- ure, broad, and thin built, but otherwise well-propor- tioned, with an open and manly countenance. Through his life he had to contend with strong pas- sions, which, through grace, he happily overcame in the end. His memory was so tenacious . that he retained every matter of importance, and related it, when neces- sary, with a minute correctness that was truly astonishing. And such were his natural abilities otherwise, that, had he received a suitable education, few would have exceeded him, either as a minister of the Gospel or as a statesman or politician. Many interesting incidents might be given of this chief- tain; but the space allotted will not admit of a more ex- tended account. Few men of any nation or tongue, con- sidering the circumstances under which they were placed REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. 447 possessed greater natural gifts than many of these sons of the forest; and had their descendants, as well as the other tribes of Indians, received that attention from the Church and the government to which they were justly entitled as the original inheritors of the soil, they might have remained strong and powerful to this day. But, alas! the doom of the entire race appears to be sealed, and in a few years the tide of Anglo-Saxon population will sweep them away, and nothing will be left to tell of their existence but the page of history. BIG-TREE. This remarkable Indian was a chief of the Bear tribe. He was in almost every respect an extraordinary man. Above six feet in hight, symmetrical in proportions, and graceful in his movements, he at once impressed the eye of the beholder with an idea that he was in the presence of one of nature's greatest sons. He had a Grecian cast of countenance, broad, expansive forehead, aquiline nose, and remarkably-regular features. When I became acquainted with him he was about eighty years of age. He presented a somewhat singular appearance. The rims of his ears were cut, and the inner portion of them perforated, in which were hung many silver ornaments, such as the Indians have, from time immemorial, decorated themselves with. The carti- lage of his nose also was perforated, from which de- pended a curiously-wrought silver jewel. His hair was cut off close to his head, with the exception of a small portion on his crown, which was long and plaited, in- closed in a silver tube. In other respects, he was dressed in the usual Indian costume. Singular as was the appearance of this chieftain, no one could look upon his commanding person without feel- ing a respect for him. Age had not bent his erect, di^ 448 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF nified form, or dimmed the fire of his dark, expressive eye, and his frank, manly, affable manners at once gained your confidence. He resided on the banks of the Sandusky, near the mission house. The small field, which he brought under a high state of cultivation, yielded him corn, beans, squashes, and other vegetables sufficient to supply his wants. In the center of this field stood his wigwam. It was of singular construction. The materials out of which it was constructed were chiefly corn-stalks placed up on end like a shock, but much larger. In the middle of this he constructed his chimney, made of bark pealed from the trees. The chimney was set on poles, supported by four forks set so as to incline inward, and thus prove a brace to each other. The bark was then wound around each of these, and extended from one to the other so as to keep them in their place. The blades on the inside of the corn-stalks, forming the interior of the Indian dwell- ing, were all carefully pealed off, while those on the out- side were all turned down. So regularly and exactly had all this been done that the whole dwelling was impervious to water and perfectly warm in the coldest weather. The only avenue through which light or air could be admitted was the door, which was small, and closed with bark. His bed was ten inches from the ground, and was con- structed as follows . Three logs of wood three feet long were laid crosswise, at proper distances, parallel to each other. On these logs were placed pieces of pealed bark, lengthwise, and over these were placed his skins and blankets. His pillow consisted of a small bundle of clothes and his tobacco-pouch. The furniture of this rude dwelling was a brass kettle, some bark kettles, a wooden tray, and bark spoon. He had also a gun, toma- hawk, and butcher-knife. Several horses, which got their living in the woods, belonged to him. REV. JAMES B . FIMLEY. 449 Thus lived this venerable old man. lie passed, daring Lis threescore years and ten, through many vicissitudes of fortune. When but a boy he was in Braddock's de- feat, and took a part in the scenes of war and carnage. He was also in the war with the southern Indians, where he was taken captive by the Cherokees, from whom he narrowly escaped with his life, and, after traveling more than three moons, finally succeeded in reaching his home. He was in all the battles fought by the nation with the whites, and was frequently wounded. He related to me several thrilling accounts of hair-breadth escapes. From the testimony of others his daring and bravery were un- equaled in the annals of savage warfare. But what gives to the character of this intrepid chief the greatest interest to the Christian is that he was the very first of his nation to embrace the religion of Christ. He was converted alone in the woods, and the history of that conversion I will leave him to tell in his own simple, native manner: "I felt so great a weight on my heart I thought it would crush me to death. I fell on my knees, and cried out, ' Father, have pity on your child that you have kept till his legs and arms are stiff with pains, and his whole body is worn out. This load will throw me down, and I shall never rise again. The trees to me will never again blossom ; the corn will never again rustle in my ears, and I shall no more behold the harvest. 0, take this load from my heart, so that I can walk forth again, and see the beauty of the Great Spirit in the stars that, like watch-fires, hold their places on the borders of the hunting-grounds beyond the great river!' While I was talking to the Great Spirit, my load was gone, and I felt young again. My heart was emptied of its load, and 1 felt light and happy, and could run like a deer in the chase." This son of the forest was a devoted servant of God. In the winter of 1824 he was called to leave his 29 £50 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP earthly tabernacle, and from his rude hut, on the batik* of the Sandusky river, his freed spirit went up to that bright world where the saints of all ages and nations shall meet and live forever. THE MYSTERIOUS INDIAN CHIEFTAIN AND HIS BRIDE. On a certain day there came to the mission station, ac- companied by his bride, a chief from some unknown tribe. His appearance and manners were such as to create quite a stir among the Indians of the village. The question in every mouth was, "Have you seen the strangers?" and many were the conjectures about their nativity, and the place of their residence. They were affable and commu- nicative, at least as much so as any civilized Indians, but to all the queries put to them by chiefs and others in regard to these points, they observed an unyielding silence. They were evidently in cultivation and refine- ment far above the ordinary standard of Indian charac- ter in general. They were invited not only to all the hospitalities of the village, but to the festivities where young chiefs and dark-eyed maidens vied with each other in imitating their dress and manners. The arrival of a Kossuth and a Jenny Lind among the whites in one of our cities did not produce a greater stir among the inhabitants in proportion to their numbers, than did the appearance of these mysterious strangers in our quiet and peaceful Indian village. To all the entreaties which were made to get them to partake of the festive cup, they offered a respectful but firm declinature. In- deed, in this respect, they presented an anomaly in the Indian character rarely to be found, especially where they are associated with the whites. This, so far from lessen- ing, only increased the interest which they had created in the minds of all. They were looked up to as superior REV. JAMES B. EINLET. 451 beings, and such, in fact, they were in more respects than one. The chief was a perfect model of manly beauty, and decidedly the handsomest man I ever saw of any race or nation. His form was erect, tall, and slender, but well- proportioned. So graceful was his walk and so dignified his mien, that the Indians called him " the proud chief." His features, though of the Indian cast, were remarkably regular and expressive. His eyes were not large, but dark and penetrating, and when a smile would play over his countenance he was perfectly fascinating. He was dressed in Indian costume, and the style of it indicated taste. The Indians usually dress fantastically, and hang about their person a profusion of ornaments. Not to have some of them would be to renounce the In- dian style, and be, so to speak, entirely out of the fashion. The dress of the stranger chief would, therefore, from the necessity of the case, not be devoid of ornament. His outer garments were made of the finest broadcloth. His cloak, or mantle, was ornamented with thirty silver crescents, half of which hung on his breast, and the remainder ornamented the back part of his dress. His head-band, which was richly and curiously wrought, was hung all round with beautiful silver pendants or drops. His belt was of the richest wampum, interwoven with beads and porcupine quills. His leggins were decorated with horse-hair dyed red, most beautifully fringed, and filled with silver pendants. His rifle-barrel and stock were inlaid with silver, wrought into many curious de- vices. The blade, handle, and pipe of his tomahawk were also inlaid with silver. The very trappings of their horses, which were high-spirited, noble animals were also in keeping with their costume. In fact, all their equipage, saddles, bridles, buffalo robes, and blank ets were highly and elaborately ornamented. 452 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF Notwithstanding all this exterior ornament, a close observer could discover in the thoughtful countenance of the chief that his mind was not engrossed by his dress and ornaments. He was evidently above them as he was above his red brethren in cultivation and refinement; and could all the facts be known in regard to his mysterious history, it would, doubtless, be seen that he was under the influence of a purer spirit than that which pervaded the nation in general. His total abstinence from the ine- briating cup, and his unwillingness to engage in the wild and boisterous sports and festivities of the Indians, to- gether with his studied silence in regard to every thing belonging to his kindred and locality — all these, while they excited a world of curiosity and conjecture, also would lead one to the conclusion that he had become a Christian. This, however, is reserved for that great day when all mysteries shall be revealed, when what is now unknown and deeply buried in the human heart beyond the penetrating ken of mortals, or what the waters of oblivion have washed away from the records of the world and the memory of man, shall be revealed and restored. The young and beautiful bride of "the proud" chief- tain was perhaps, if possible, still more an object of at- traction and wonder. She was courted and caressed by the village maidens, and many a young chief culled wild- flowers from the banks of the Sandusky, with which he made garlands to decorate her hair. As her chief was a model of manly beauty, so was she no less a specimen of beauty to the fairer sex. Her skin was not dark like the Indian ; but she was, perhaps, what might be called a brunette. No ; this does not describe her color, if, indeed, it can be described. It was clear and transparent, though tinged with brown. Her hair was dark and glossy as the raven, and, when not incased in her silver band, fell in rich and massy KEV. JAMES B. PINLET 453 ringlets over her beautifully-rounded shoulders. Her eyes were soft and blue, with dark arches and lids, which gave her great beauty of expression. Her teeth were white and regular, and there was a bewitching sweetness about her looks that caused all the maidens to love her. Her person was tall, a little above medium hight, and perfectly symmetrical. She wore a dress richly embroid- ered and decorated with jewels, which gave her a mag- nificent appearance. Her morning dress, or dishabille, consisted of a robe of red silk, profusely ornamented with silver, and inclosed at the neck with a large silver clasp, while the waist was encircled with a zone of the same material. Few ladies in the most refined circles of soci- ety, in our large cities, could be found who dressed more richly, or, perhaps, with better taste, than did the chief- tain's bride. In her person she was a model of neatness, and there was an air of freshness and buoyancy about her that ladies pent up within the walls, and dust, and smoke of the city could scarcely hope to acquire. This mysterious couple did not pitch their tent with the other Indians, but selected a spot a short distance from the village. Their tent was composed of the finest mate- rials, and furnished in a style perfectly in keeping with every thing else that belonged to them. None knew where they came from or to what nation they belonged, though it was generally believed that the tribe to which they belonged had become extinct, and that they were the last of a nation which had been numbered with the forgotten dead. Rumor, also, with her attentive ear and ready tongue, said that the proud chieftain's wife was a daughter of General Butler, that she had been reared in affluence, and enjoyed all the advantages of a polite edu- cation and the refinements of a fashionable life; but that, like a caged bird, when opportunity presented itself, she flew to her beloved wildwood, and, uniting herself with 454 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF her early love, they sought together a home among the peaceful and semi- Christian Wyandotts. In matters connected with the interests of our mission they both took a lively interest, though they never united with the Church. There may have been reasons for this course, which to a highly-cultivated Indian, who, never- theless, retained his Indian prejudices, were quite satisfac- tory. Certain it is that they were governed in all their deportment and intercourse with the villagers by the strictest integrity and kindness. The same mystery which hung so impenetrable a vail over their history, as deeply and darkly shrouded their fate. Whither they went, none knew — what became of them, none could tell. Many were the Indian surmises regarding them. Some of the more superstitious thought they were spirits sent back from the great spirit-land, and that their dress and equipage, their horses and dogs were such as the Great Spirit would bestow upon the good Indian when he died. » Another conjecture, however, was, perhaps, the more plausible. I have before remarked that they did not asso- ciate but little with their Indian neighbors, and many were heard to say of the chief, " He too proud to be with Indian." The conjecture to which I allude was, that a party of them, filled with envy, as were the brethren of Joseph in olden time, conceived the horrid idea of putting them to death. If this supposition be correct, so skill- fully did they plan and carry into execution the deed of darkness, that no one knows to this day the place of their graves. The Indians were as careful to conceal the graves of those they hated in life as they were solicitous of their death. There is among them a tradition thai messenger-birds can be sent with the blessings of friends to the spirit-land. Their mode was to take unfledged birds and cage them till they were able to fly; and then REV. JAMES B. FINLEY= 4:55 taking them to the grave, after kissing, caressing, and loading them with blessings, they set them at liberty, that they might fly away with their messages to the spirit- land. Knowing that the young chief and his blue-eyed, beautiful companion were beloved by many of the nation, and that their graves would be dear to them, they, per- haps, resolved that some deep glen or water-filled cavern in the dark river should forever seclude them from human vision. NOTE. 1 have many retiiniscences concerning the Indians which have never 7eb been published, and which can not be inserted in this volume. At tome future day, should Providence spare my life, I may be able to giv« them to the public. Till then I bid my readers an affectionate adieu. THK END. / RETURN CIRCULATION DEPARTMENT TO— » 202 Main Library LOAN PERIOD HOME USE ALL BOOKS MAY BE RECALLED AFTER 7 DAYS 1 -month loans may be renewed by calling 642-3405 6-month loans may be recharged by bringing books to Circulation Desk Renewals and recharges may be made 4 days prior to due date DUE AS STAMPED BELOW APR 2 V 1979 RfcTP APRl tf19 ^ JBttAWfe oc i i y w' SEP 8 1979 ^W9■ AUTO. DISC. ' M * ^'li-»A ^ Y&31G 3 198' APR1 8 1991 REacnt, jun h-o-y I % _ i 0~133T «»*i JAW 1 8 1 * 98 U.CBFBKei-EY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, BERKELEY FORM NO. DD6, 40m, 3/78 BERKELEY, CA 94720 YB ?0066 MS8838 _ F 2 1 1979 j . j 4l£T Fs THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY «ri HTiiiiiTiT mrnr>«m'*m