VOLUME 1 — BOOK I — CHAPTER IV
WESLEY'S FIRST MISSIONARIES TO AMERICA

Appeals to Wesley for Missionaries — Dr. Wrangle — John Hood and Lambert Wilmer of Philadelphia — Wesley's Appeal in his Conference — The Response — A liberal Contribution for America — The Conference — Leeds in Methodist Missionary History — Sketch of Richard Boardman — His Perils by Water — Instrumental in the Conversion of Jabez Bunting — Joseph Pilmoor — A tempestuous Voyage — Arrival of the Missionaries in America — Pilmoor preaching in the Streets of Philadelphia — His Letter to Wesley — Boardman on the Way to New York — Whitefield greets them — Presentiment of his Death — His last Evangelical Triumphs — Last Sermon — Last Exhortation — Jesse Lee at his Tomb: Note — Boardman in New York — His Success — John Mann — Pilmoor — His Letter to Wesley — Singular Introduction into New Rochelle

Send us "an able and experienced Preacher," wrote the New York Society to Wesley; "we importune your assistance;" "send us a man of wisdom, of sound faith, a good disciplinarian, whose soul and heart are in the work;" and, as we have seen, they call unto him with the glowing vision of "a flame kindled, which shall never stop until it reaches the great South Sea." Webb wrote; Embury, it is said, wrote; Thomas Bell, a humble mechanic, who had "wrought six days" upon their new Chapel, wrote. Dr. Wrangle, a good Swedish missionary, afterward chaplain to his king, sent out by his government to minister to its emigrants in Philadelphia, appealed to Wesley in person at a dinner table, on his way home through England. [1] The zealous and catholic doctor had been preparing the way for Methodism in Philadelphia. John Hood had been converted under his ministry there; and the missionary had recommended him to the friendship of Lambert Wilmer, a devoted young man of St. Paul's Church. The two youths became like David and Jonathan, and after years of Christian co-operation they mutually requested that they might rest in the same grave. Their Swedish friend, obtaining from Wesley the promise of a preacher, wrote back to them the good news, and advised them to become Methodists. They accordingly became founders of the new Church in Philadelphia, where their names are still venerated, and where they now sleep in one tomb under the Union Methodist Church. [2]

In Wesley's "Minutes of Conference" for 1769 are nine brief lines pregnant with volumes of history. On the 3d of August, in the Conference at Leeds, he said from the chair, "We have a pressing call from our brethren of New York (who have built a preaching house) to come over and help them. Who is willing to go? Richard Boardman and Joseph Pilmoor. What can we do further in token of our brotherly love? Let us now take a collection among ourselves. This was immediately done, and out of it œ50 were allotted toward the payment of their debt, and about œ20 given to our brethren for their passage." This was Wesley's twenty-sixth Conference; about a quarter of a century had passed since the organization of that humble ecclesiastical synod, in our day one of the most notable in the Protestant world. Its "Circuits" were but forty-six, the membership of its Churches less than twenty-nine thousand; the preachers present at the session were probably but few; and they were nearly all poor, if not suffering from want. More than two thirds of the ministry remained unmarried, unable to provide for families. The generous sum of three hundred and fifty dollars, given by them, was an extraordinary expression of their zeal and hopefulness for the new development of their cause now taking place beyond the Atlantic. Their own Conference debt was, at this session, between twenty-five and thirty thousand dollars; and the contribution for America was made immediately after the question and answer, "What is reserved for contingent expenses? Nothing." The gift of two of their prominent men was, however, a still stronger proof of their large expectations of Methodism in the new world. Their work at home was urgent; it had already extended over England, into Scotland, Wales, Ireland. The harvest was great, the laborers few; but they could not disregard this new sign in the western heavens; it was to them the Macedonian vision, shining over the distant sea. They sent therefore both men and money. It was characteristically befitting such self-sacrificing men to retire from their Conference declaring, as they did in a document, their resolution "to devote ourselves entirely to God; denying ourselves, taking up our cross daily, steadily aiming at one thing, to save our own souls and them that hear us." [3] And it is an interesting, if not a more significant coincidence, that in this very town whence the first Wesleyan missionaries were sent to America, was to be organized, less than half a century later, the first Wesleyan Methodist Missionary Society, an institution which has transcended, in success, every other similar organization of Protestant Christendom. A voyage to America was, at that time, a much more serious adventure than it is in our day; and for two obscure Methodist Preachers to tear themselves from their brethren, and throw themselves upon the contingencies of the feeble beginnings of their cause in the distant new world required no little courage, not to say daring. We cannot be surprised therefore that there was some hesitancy in the Conference. It is usually supposed that when Wesley's appeal was made the response was immediate; but it was otherwise. The Conference sat in silence, no man answering. The next morning, Wesley, as was his custom, preached before the assembly at five o'clock on the text, "I have nourished and brought up children, and they have rebelled against me." At the reassembling of the Conference, after the sermon, the appeal was repeated, and the responses deliberately and resolutely made. [4]

Richard Boardman was now about thirty-one years of age, vigorous and zealous. He had preached in the itinerancy about six years. Wesley pronounced him "a pious, good-natured, sensible man, greatly beloved of all that knew him." His Irish brethren, when, thirteen years later, they laid him in his grave, said that "with eloquence divine he preached the word," and "devils trembled when for Christ he fought." One of the old Methodist chroniclers describes him as "a man of great piety, amiable disposition, and strong understanding." [5] Asbury says he was "a kind, loving, worthy man, truly amiable and entertaining, and of a childlike temper." [6] His itinerant training in England, though brief, had been thorough. He had spent two years at least among the fervid Methodists of Yorkshire, and went to America from the rugged and famous Circuit of the "Dales," where hard travels, laborious work, and wintry storms were a good preparation for his transatlantic trials. He had perils by flood as well as by land, and some of those hair-breadth escapes which, associated with marvels of dreams, demons, prayer, and providence, give such a Hebraic character to the early ministerial life of Methodism. "I preached one evening," he says, "at Mould, in Flintshire, and next morning set out for Parkgate. After riding some miles, I asked a man if I was on the road to that place. He answered, 'Yes; but you will have some sands to go over, and unless you ride fast you will be in danger of being inclosed by the tide.' It then began to snow to such a degree that I could scarcely see a step of my way. I got to the sands, and pursued my journey over them for some time as rapidly as I could; but the tide then came in and surrounded me on every side, so that I could neither proceed nor turn back, and to ascend the perpendicular rocks was impossible. In this situation I commended my soul to God, not having the least expectation of escaping death. In a little time I perceived two men running down a hill on the other side of the water, and by some means they got a boat, and came to my relief; just as the sea had reached my knees as I sat on my saddle. They took me into the boat, the mare swimming by our side till we reached the land. While we were in the boat, one of the men said, 'Surely, sir, God is with you.' I answered, 'I trust he is.' The man replied, 'I know he is; last night I dreamed that I must go to the top of such a hill. When I awoke the dream made such an impression on my mind that I could not rest. I therefore went and called upon this man to accompany me. When we came to the place we saw nothing more than usual. However, I begged him to go with me to another hill at a small distance, and there we saw your distressed situation.' When we got ashore I went with my two friends to a public house not far distant from where we landed and as we were relating the wonderful providence, the landlady said, 'This day mouth we saw a gentleman just in your situation, but before we could hasten to his relief be plunged into the sea, supposing, a we concluded, that his horse would swim to the shore but they both sank, and were drowned together.' I gave my deliverers all the money I had, which I think was about eighteen pence, and tarried all night at the hotel. Next morning I was not a little embarrassed how to pay my reckoning, for the want of cash, and begged my landlord would keep a pair of silver spurs till I should redeem them; but he answered, 'The Lord bless you, sir; I would not take a farthing from you for the world.' After some serious conversation with the friendly people I bade them farewell, and recommenced my journey, rejoicing in the Lord, and praising him for his great salvation." [7]

He set out for America mourning the recent loss of his wife, but courageous for his new career. He preached as he journeyed toward Bristol to embark. In the Peak of Derbyshire he stopped for the night at the village of Monyash, where, inquiring for Methodists, he was sent to a humble cottage, and found a hospitable welcome. As usual, he preached in the evening, and was there to achieve greater usefulness perhaps than by all his labors in founding Methodism in the new world. In the rustic assembly sat a young woman, Mary Redfern, listening eagerly for words of consolation from the traveler. She was poor, but rich in the traits of her intellect and character. Under the sermon of Boardman the divine light broke upon her inquiring mind, and soon afterward she received the "peace of God which passeth all understanding." Boardman's text was, "Jabez was more honorable than his brethren and his mother called his name Jabez, saying, Because I bare him with sorrow. And Jabez called on the God of Israel, saying, O that thou wouldest bless me indeed, and enlarge my coast, and that thine hand might be with me, and that thou wouldest keep me from evil, that it may not grieve me. And God granted him that which he requested." 1 Chron. iv, 9, 10. The occasion was too memorable to the young hearer ever to be forgotten, and the text was embalmed in her heart. Nearly ten years after Boardman's sermon she married William Bunting, a Methodist layman; and the next year selected from the text of Boardman a name for her firstborn child, Jabez Bunting, a memento of her gratitude and a prophecy of his history. [5] The name of Jabez Bunting, the chief leader of British Methodism since Wesley, will therefore be forever associated with the first mission from the British Conference to America.

Boardman, continuing to preach on his route, at last joined Pilmoor at Bristol, to embark in the latter part of August.

Pilmoor had been converted in his sixteenth year through the preaching of Wesley, had been educated at Wesley's Kingswood School, and had now itinerated about four years, being admitted to the Conference in 1765. He traveled in Cornwall and Wales. He was a man of good courage, commanding presence, much executive skill, and ready discourse. The two evangelists arrived at Gloucester Point, six miles south of Philadelphia, on the 24th of October, 1769, after a boisterous passage of nine weeks. It seemed that the winds and waves were swayed by the "prince of the power of the air" in opposition to a mission so pregnant with moral consequences. The "memory of the oldest man on the continent could not recall such bad gales of winds as those of a few months past," wrote Boardman to Wesley. "Many vessels have been lost, while others have got in with loss of masts and much damage of cargoes. We observed shipwrecks all along the coast of the Delaware. I never understood David's words as I now do, 'They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters, these see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep.' " But the missionaries were sustained by a sublime consciousness of their great errand, and believed that if they should perish in it, He that could raise up others to accomplish it would take care of them in death. "In rough, stormy weather, particularly when it appeared impossible the vessel should live long amid the conflicting elements, I found myself," says Boardman, "exceedingly happy, and rested satisfied that death would be gain. I do not remember to have had one doubt of being eternally saved should the mighty waters swallow us up. This was the Lord's doing. O may it ever be marvelous in my eyes!"

The Methodists of the city were expecting them, Dr. Wrangle, the Swedish missionary, having written to Hood and Wilmer of their appointment. Captain Webb was there to receive them. They immediately began their mission, Pilmoor opening it from the steps of the old Statehouse on Chestnut Street. Soon afterward he was preaching from the platform of the judges of the racecourse on the Coon, now Franklin Square, Race Street. In seven days after reaching the city he wrote to Wesley that he "was not a little surprised to find Captain Webb in town, and a society of about one hundred members. This is the Lord's doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes. I have preached several times, and the people flock to hear in multitudes. Sunday night I went out upon the Common. I had the stage, appointed for the horse-race, for my pulpit, and I think between four and five thousand hearers, who heard with attention still as night. Blessed be God for field-preaching! There seems to be a great and effectual door opening in this country, and I hope many souls will be gathered in. When I parted with you at Leeds I found it very hard. I have reason to bless God that ever I saw your face. And though I am well-nigh four thousand miles from you, I have inward fellowship with your spirit. Even while I am writing, my heart flows with love to you and all our dear friends at home."

Boardman, who acted as Wesley's "assistant" or "superintendent" in America, preached in the city "to a great number of people," and quickly departed for the North. Methodist preachers in those days "sowed beside all waters." In a large town on his route through New Jersey (Trenton most probably) he saw a barrack, and inquired of a soldier if any Methodists were there. "Yes, we are all Methodists; that is, would be glad to hear a Methodist preach," was the prompt reply, for Captain Webb had been there, and military men were always proud of both his regimentals and his eloquence. The trooper hastened to the barracks, spread the word among his comrades, and soon the inn where the evangelist had stopped was surrounded. "Where can I preach?" he asked them. "We will get you the Presbyterian church," they replied. The bell was quickly ringing, informing the whole town of the impromptu service. A "great company" assembled, and "were much affected" by the sudden appeal. The next day Boardman had vanished from among men, and was hastening to New York, [9] where he met a hearty reception and began his mission in John Street Church.

It is an interesting coincidence that while Boardman and Pilmoor were tossed on their tempestuous voyage, Whitefield was borne through the same storms on his final visit to America, [10] his thirteenth passage over the Atlantic. He did not arrive till the last day of November, and had come to die in the great American field which he had so laboriously prepared for Wesley's missionaries. He had taken final leave of Wesley, in a letter, as he embarked. Arriving at his Orphan House in Georgia, his seraphic soul seemed to receive a presentiment of his approaching end and to anticipate the joys of heaven "I am happier," he wrote "than words can express — my happiness is inconceivable." He started to preach northward, and on the evening of his departure recorded the prophetic words "This will prove a sacred year for me at the day of judgment. Hallelujah! Come, Lord, come!" "Hallelujah! Hallelujah!" he wrote to England; "let chapel, tabernacle, heaven, and earth resound with hallelujah! I can no more; my heart is too big to speak or add more!" To Charles Wesley he wrote, "I can only sit down and cry, 'What hath God wrought!' My bodily health is much improved and my soul is on the wing for another Gospel range. Unutterable love! I am lost in wonder and amazement." [11]

Arriving in Philadelphia he hailed Wesley's itinerant's and "gave them his blessing: it has never failed them." His soul had always, since his conversion, glowed with a divine fire, but it now seemed to kindle into flame. No edifices could contain his congregations; he preached every day. He made a tour of five hundred miles up the Hudson, proclaiming his message at Albany, Schenectady, Great Barrington. "O what new scenes of usefulness are opening in various parts of this world!" he wrote as he returned. "I heard afterward that the word ran and was glorified. Grace! grace!" He had penetrated nearly to the northwestern frontiers. "He saw the gates of the Northwest opening, those great gates through which the nations have since been passing, as in grand procession, but he was not to enter there; the everlasting gates were opening for him, and he was hastening toward them." He passed to Boston, to Newburyport, to Portsmouth, still preaching daily. Seized with illness, he turned back; at Exeter he mounted a hogshead [a large barrel — DVM] and preached his final sermon to an immense assembly. "His emotions carried him away, and he prolonged his discourse through two hours. It was an effort of stupendous eloquence — his last field triumph — the last of that series of mighty sermons which had been resounding like trumpet blasts for thirty years over England and America." He hastened, exhausted, to Newburyport; the people gathered about his lodging in throngs to see and hear him once more; they pressed into the entry of the house. Taking a candle, he attempted to ascend to his chamber, but pausing on the stairs, he addressed them. "He had preached his last sermon; this was to be his last exhortation. It would seem that some pensive misgiving, some vague presentiment, touched his soul with the apprehension that the moments were too precious to be lost in rest. He lingered on the stairway, while the crowd gazed up at him with tearful eyes, as Elisha at the ascending prophet. his voice, never perhaps surpassed in its music and pathos, flowed on until the candle which he held in his hand burned away and went out in its socket. The next morning he was not, for God had taken him."

He died of asthma on the 30th of September, 1770, and sleeps beneath the pulpit of the Federal Street Church, Newburyport. [12] He had introduced, as we have seen, the general Methodistic movement into America, and had finished his providential work. The great cause was now to assume an organic form.

On the 4th of November, 1769, Boardman wrote to Wesley: [13] "Our house contains about seventeen hundred people. [14] About a third part of those who attend get in, the rest are glad to hear without. There appears such a willingness in the Americans to hear the word as I never saw before. They have no preaching in some parts of the back settlements. I doubt not but an effectual door will be opened among them. O! may the Most High now give his Son the heathen for his inheritance. The number of blacks that attend the preaching affects me much."

Williams, who had been supplying Wesley Chapel, gave up the charge to Boardman and went southward, joining Strawbridge and King, and extending his labors into Virginia, as we have seen. Embury, relieved of further responsibility for the Society formed with Ashton, Bininger, Switzer, the Hecks, and others, his little colony for Camden — the founders of the Ashgrove Church. Boardman's labors were immediately effective. He preached, at least, four sermons weekly, and "met the Society on Wednesday night." He had but two leisure evenings a week. The Church, still poor, provided him with board and about fifteen dollars a quarter for clothing. [15] Among the first-fruits of his labors was the conversion of John Mann, who became a useful preacher and supplied the pulpit at John Street during the Revolutionary War, when the English preachers had either returned home, or gone into retirement. He also became one of the founders of Methodism in Nova Scotia, and died there, in the peace of the Gospel, after nearly half a century of faithful service. [16]

After spending about five months in New York, Boardman exchanged with Pilmoor. They seem to have alternated between the two cities three times a year, in the spring, summer, and autumn; the winter term being five months. We can dimly trace Boardman's labors in New York, through considerable intervals, for four years from 1769 to 1773; during which "his ministry was blessed to hundreds." [17] In April, 1771, he wrote to Wesley from that city: "It pleases God to carry on his work among us. Within this month we have had a great awakening here. Many begin to believe the report; and to some the arm of the Lord is revealed. This last month we have had near thirty added to the Society, five of whom have received a clear sense of the pardoning love of God. We have, in this city, some of the best preachers (both in the English and Dutch churches) that are in America; yet God works by whom he will work. I have lately been much comforted by the death of some poor Negroes, who have gone off the stage of time rejoicing in the God of their salvation. I asked one on the point of death, 'Are you afraid to die?' 'O no,' said she; 'I have my blessed Saviour in my heart; I should be glad to die: I want to be gone, that I may be with him forever. I know that he loves me, and I feel I love him with all my heart.' She continued to declare the great things God had done for her soul, to the astonishment of many, till the Lord took her to himself. Several more seem just ready to be gone; longing for the happy time when mortality shall be swallowed up of life. I bless God I find, in general, my soul happy, though much tried and tempted."

He was equally successful in Philadelphia. He made missionary excursions into Maryland, and preached in Baltimore. We have intimations that in the spring of 1772 he journeyed to the northeast, through Providence, as far as Boston, [18] preaching wherever he found opportunity, and forming a small Society in the latter city. [19] He therefore preceded Lee in New England by seventeen years.

Pilmoor, meanwhile, was abundant in labors in Philadelphia and New York. In the autumn of 1769 he wrote to Wesley from the former city that "there seems to be a great and effectual door opening in the country. In the spring of the next year he wrote, from New York, to Wesley and his Conference, claiming their sympathies and prayers for the laborers in this remote corner of the world." "We are at present," he says, "far from you, and whether we shall ever be permitted to see you again, God only knows. Dear brethren I feel you present while I write! But O, the Atlantic is between us! O this state of trial, this state of mutability! This is not our home! This is not our rest! After a little while we shall rest. Our coming to America has not been in vain. The Lord has been pleased to bless our feeble attempts to advance his kingdom in the world. Many have believed the report, and unto some the arm of the Lord has been revealed. There begins to be a shaking among the dry bones, and they come together that God may breathe upon them. Our congregations are large, and we have the pious of most congregations to hear us. The religion of Jesus is a favorite topic in New York. Many of the gay and polite speak much about grace and perseverance. But whether they would follow Christ 'in sheepskins and goatskins,' is a question I cannot affirm. Nevertheless, there are some who are alive to God. Even some of the poor, despised children of Ham are striving to wash their robes, and make them white in the blood of the Lamb. The Society here consists of about a hundred members, besides probationers; and I trust it will soon increase much more abundantly." He adds, that Boardman and himself "are chiefly confined to the cities, and therefore cannot, at present, go much into the country, as we have more work upon our hands than we are able to perform. There is work enough for two preachers in each place; and if two of our brethren would come over, I believe it would be attended with a great blessing. They need not be afraid of wanting the comforts of life; for the people are very hospitable and kind. When we came we put ourselves and the brethren to a great expense, being strangers to the country and the people. But the case is different now, as matters are settled, and everything is provided. If you can send them over we shall gladly provide for them." [20]

Wesley was preparing to respond to this call for more laborers; they soon arrived, as we shall see. Meanwhile Pilmoor, notwithstanding the urgent necessities of the Churches of New York and Philadelphia, "itinerated" considerably. In the summer of 1770 he went to Baltimore and other parts of Maryland, to aid Strawbridge, Owen, King, and Williams. He preached in that city standing on the sidewalk, and, being a man of commanding appearance, and withal an able and convincing Preacher, he was heard with much interest. [21] The next year we trace him again to New York, where Williams labored with him. They made an excursion to New Rochelle, where they found a little company gathered for worship, at the house of Frederick Deveau. A clergyman present refused Pilmoor the privilege of addressing the meeting; but the wife of Deveau lying sick in an adjacent room, saw him through the opened door and gave him a mysterious recognition. During her illness she had had much trouble of mind; she had dreamed that she was wandering in a dismal swamp, without path, or light, or guide; when, exhausted with fatigue and about to sink down hopeless, a stranger appeared with a light and led her out of the miry labyrinth. At the first glance she now identified Pilmoor with the apparition of her dream, and appealed to him, from her sick bed to preach to her and the waiting company. He did so; and while "he was offering to all a present, free, full salvation the invalid was converted, and in a few days died "triumphant in the Lord!" These singular events awakened general attention; Pilmoor preached again to the whole neighborhood, and Methodism was effectively introduced into New Rochelle, where, not long after, Asbury was to form the third Methodist Society of the state, after those of John Street and Ashgrove. The beautiful town became the favorite resort of Asbury and his compeers for occasional repose from their travels, though not from their labors; [23] the fountain whence Methodism spread through all Westchester county; its eastern-most outpost, whence it, at last, invaded New England.

There are allusions in our early records to several expeditions of Pilmoor to the South. He preached in Norfolk, traveled through the southern parts of Virginia and through North Carolina, to Charleston in South Carolina. He reached, at last, Savannah, Georgia, and made a pilgrimage to Whitefield's Orphan House, scattering the good seed over all his route. [24] He spent nearly a year in this excursion, but left no record of its events. It is said, however, that he had many hairbreadth escapes of life and limb. He encountered the violence of the elements and of persecutors. At Charleston he could obtain no place for preaching but the Theater, where, while fervently delivering a sermon, "suddenly the table used by him for a pulpit, with the chair he occupied, disappeared," descending through a trapdoor into the cellar. Some wags, of the "baser sort," had contrived the trick as a practical joke. Nothing discouraged, however, the preacher, springing upon the stage with the table in his hands, invited the audience to the adjoining yard, adding pleasantly, "Come on, my friends, we will, by the grace of God, defeat the devil this time, and not be driven by him from our work," and then quietly finished his discourse. The fruits of his Christian labors appeared in the conversion of many souls. Wherever he went large crowds attended his ministry, and listened to his message. [25]

Other messengers, from Wesley, were on the sea, hastening to the help of these laborers. One of them was destined to become the most notable character in the ecclesiastical history of North America, and was soon to eclipse all his predecessors in that great scheme of itinerancy which was to extend its network of evangelization over the continent. They were to be his co-workers for some time; we may, therefore, before tracing further their labors, properly introduce him upon the scene.

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ENDNOTES

1 Wesley's Journals, October, 1768.

2 Lednum, chap. 4.

3 Minutes, vol. i, p. 88. London, 1812.

4 Speech of Rev C. Prest (of the Wesleyan Conference) at the anniversary of the Paris Wesleyan Chapel, October 25, 1863. Mr. Prest's authority was the Rev. Jonathan Edmondson. See "The Methodist," New York, Nov. 28, 1863.

5 Atmore, p. 58.

6 Strickland's Asbury, p. 86.

7 Atmore p. 60.

8 Bunting's Life of Bunting, chap. 1. Hist. of the religious Movement, etc., iii, 161.

9 Armin. Mag., May, 1784, p. 163

10 Jay's Life of Cornelius Winter, Part I, Letter 8.

11 Hist. of the Relig. Movement, etc. Vol. i, p. 464.

12 Jesse Lee, the founder of Methodism in New England, says: "I myself went into the vault to see the body after it had lain there twenty years, and was much surprised to find the greater part of it firm and hard; a small part of it only had putrified." — Hist. of Meth., p. 38 Nothing but the skeleton now remains.

13 Not the 24th of April 1770, as Bangs says, i, 63. (See Arm. Mag., 1784 p. 163.)

14 Doubtless a typographical error for seven hundred.

15 Wakeley, chap. 21.

16 Arm. Mag., 1818, p. 641.

17 Ibid. 1785, p. 113.

18 Lee, p. 40.

19 Bangs, anno 1772.

20 Arm. Mag., 1784, p. 223.

21 Dr. Hamilton, Meth. Quart. Rev., 1856, p. 440.

22 Rev. D. Devinne, in Lednum, chap. 10.

23 Asbury's Journals, passim.

24 Lee, p. 39.

25 Letter of G. P. Disosway, Esq., to the author. See "The Methodist," Dec. 5, 1863.

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