VOLUME 3 — BOOK V — CHAPTER XIV
METHODISM IN THE MIDDLE AND NORTHERN STATES: 1796 — 1804

Great Religious Interest — Its Excesses — It extends over the Nation — Senator Bassett — Asbury — Ware — Dr. Rush's Interest for Methodism — Dr. Chandler's Services — Solomon Sharp's Character — A Practical Joke — Thomas, Smith attempts Suicide — Becomes a Useful Preacher — Curious Fact in his Ministry — A Solemn Wager — Persecution — Restoration of a Decayed Church — Henry Boehm — Boehm's Chapel — Boehm Itinerating in Maryland — The Ennals and Airy Families — Singular Introduction of Methodism into Annamessex — Boehm among the Germans of Pennsylvania — Sketch of Jacob Gruber — Peter Vannest — Thomas Burch — The "Albright" Methodists — Dr. Power's German Translation of the Methodist Discipline

The Church in the Middle States shared largely in the religious interest which we have noticed as prevailing throughout the South in the present period. It was indeed universal, if not simultaneous, from Maine to Tennessee, from Georgia to Canada. Some of our early authorities attribute it to the impulse given by the labors of Wooster in the latter section of the denomination. It seems, however, to have been one of those mysterious "times of refreshing" which appear at intervals in Christian communities, pass through their salutary cycle, and subside, to reappear in due time. Some excesses were incidental, if not unavoidable to the excitement. Watters, as has been observed, was perplexed by them. Enoch George hesitated before them, and used repressive measures at first; but these prudent men, and their brethren generally, seem to have arrived at the conclusion of Wesley and his co-laborer in similar eases, that such proofs of human weakness, or even folly, were not disproofs of the genuineness of the revival; it being natural, if not inevitable, that human infirmity should mingle even with a divine work among fallen men. They saw that the results of the excitement were salutary, that its general character was good, its defects exceptional.

In Baltimore it prevailed mightily. Asbury had written from the South, advising the pastors of the city to open prayer-meetings in private houses wherever possible. Many were now held, and they spread religious influence through many neighborhoods hardly otherwise accessible to the labors of the Church. A great part of the community seemed roused by them to religious inquiry. The quieting spirit extended all through Maryland and Delaware; the chapels and meetings at private houses were crowded in the evenings, and by day the harvest fields, workshops, the forests, where the woodmen were cutting timber, and the homes of the people were vocal with Methodist hymns. It seemed, remarks a witness of the scene, that all the population were turning unto the Lord. [1] In some small villages the societies were recruited by the addition of hundreds of members. On the Baltimore District hosts of souls were converted in 1801, when the excitement had reached its height, and the contemporary historian of the Church [2] shows that, during three or four years more, it spread like fire in stubble through all parts of the country. About the beginning of the century the yellow fever prevailed in the Atlantic cities, and added much to the religious seriousness of the times. The Methodist preachers were steadfast at their posts through the period of the pestilence in New York, Philadelphia, and Baltimore. Some perished by it, but their Churches prospered greatly. George Roberts continued, during its prevalence in Baltimore, to preach regularly, "while hundreds were falling its victims on his right hand and his left." Light Street Church was crowded continually with more than two thousand hearers. "More or less," he says," are hopefully converted every week. In Philadelphia, it is said, there is a very great revival of religion, and near one hundred have been added to the society in two weeks." Senator Bassett wrote to Asbury from Dover, Del., in 1801: "Glory to God, he has done wonders! About one hundred and thirteen, white and black, were joined in society yesterday, and, from what I hear, I doubt not but as many, if not twice the number, who went away wounded and crippled, sick and sore, will be joined in different parts of the country; all the fruits of this blessed meeting."

Bassett was practically a lay evangelist among his neighbors. He held at Dover a sort of annual protracted meeting, with daily preaching and prayer-meetings at sunrise, for a whole week. "O the wonders of redeeming love!" he writes in 1802; "without controversy great is the mystery of godliness. I conceive I am within bounds when I say the congregations this day, had they been numbered, were seven thousand souls. I say congregations, for such was the multitude, it was found necessary to have three preachers engaged at the same time, the congregations at a proper distance from each other; and this was not enough, a fourth congregation might have been found. Surely the scene was awful; a time to be remembered, and a day of great solemnity. The power of God was great among saints and sinners. We had also a glorious day and night both in the house of God, and my own house; several were powerfully awakened, at private houses, in times of singing and prayer. On Monday sinners began to be greatly alarmed and powerfully agitated in mind. On Tuesday, after preaching, the sacrament was administered. This was the most gracious, solemn, and rejoicing time I ever saw. I conclude there were not less than between twelve and fifteen hundred who came to the Lord's table, white and colored people. In this exercise many sinners were cut to the heart, and powerful convictions took place, most of which I believe ended in sound conversions, and many backsliders were reclaimed. O the astonishing goodness of the all-wonder-working God! I presume there were not less than from twenty to thirty souls converted or sanctified in my own house during the meeting. Blessed be God for it. I know you will say in your heart, Amen. The two last days our meeting was the best, and so it was at the last yearly meeting. Our blessed God, in both stances, kept the best wine to the last. We continued till three o'clock on Friday morning. It gave me some grief that we did not hold out longer, because I saw such an uncommon thirst in the hearts of the people of God. There must have been some hundreds awakened."

Wilson Lee writes, in 1803: "The work in the city (Baltimore) and circuits has been moving on in power. In the federal city and Georgetown a goodly number have joined society. In Prince George and Calvert Circuits seven hundred and seventy-two joined in the first six months after Conference, and, from the information I received, in two rounds afterward upward of one thousand joined. In other places the work has been going forward without any visible declension."

Similar reports were made, from all parts of the Church, down to 1805, and so extraordinary was this almost universal revival, that it was deemed expedient to put upon record some account of it, by the publication of several letters of preachers and laymen, to Asbury, describing its scenes in various parts of the country. [3]

Asbury made no less than twelve passages over the Middle States in these years, going to and returning from the East; but, as usual in this mature portion of the Church, his notes are too meager to afford any historical information or interest.

Thomas Ware, whom we have met in so many widely apart sections, was sent at the beginning of this period to the Philadelphia District, which extended from Wilmington, Del., to the Seneca Lake, N. Y. "A glorious religious excitement," he writes, "commenced on Strasburgh and Chester Circuits, which spread through the whole peninsula, exceeding anything I have ever witnessed. This revival embraced all classes, governor, judges, lawyers, and statesmen, old and young, rich and poor, including many of the African race, who adorned their profession by a well-ordered life, and some of them by a triumphant death. For Strasburgh Circuit I felt a particular interest, as it had now become the place of my residence. Many of the children of the early Methodists were nearly grown up, and but few of them professed religion, and some who had long prayed for a revival had become almost discouraged. Such was the state of things on this circuit when I prevailed on Bishop Asbury to appoint Dr. Chandler to it, as the most likely, in my estimation, to be useful in stirring up the people. Dr. Chandler, at the time I obtained his consent to travel, was reading medicine with Dr. Rush. He had been for some time a licensed preacher. He was gifted, enterprising, and every way well qualified for the itinerant work; and in that capacity I thought he would be most likely to be useful. I had a very particular friendship for him, as I had long known him and his habits, which I believed were such as would render him eminently successful in the work of saving souls, if he would give himself up wholly to the service of the Church. I accordingly communicated with him on the subject, but he pleaded his engagements with Dr. Rush as a barrier against his going out into the field. I accordingly waited on the venerable Rush, and expressed to him my views respecting the duty of Chandler, who perfectly agreed with me in the matter, and cheerfully released him from his engagements, and he entered with all his soul into the work."

Rush was himself a Methodist in spirit, if not in name. He educated in medicine several Methodist preachers who were compelled to locate by the growth of their families. He entertained at his house many of them during the sessions of the Conferences, addressed the Philadelphia Conference in behalf of "temperance," heard with admiration the more celebrated itinerants, read with delight the writings of Wesley and Fletcher, and contemplated with devout interest the prospects of Methodism in the new world. [4] He readily, therefore, spared Chandler for the itinerancy. "At the commencement of the second quarter," continues Ware, "Dr. Chandler began covenanting with the people. He obtained a pledge from them to abstain wholly from the use of ardent spirits, and to meet him at the throne of grace three times a day, namely, at sunrise, at noon, and at the going down of the sun, to pray for a revival of the work of God on the circuit, and especially that he would visit them and give them some token for good at their next quarterly meeting. As the time of the meeting approached he pressed them to come out without fail, and expressed a belief that the Lord would do great things for us. Soon after he commenced this course there were evident indications that the work was beginning to revive, and many, with the preacher, began to predict that something great would be done at the quarterly meeting. On Saturday many people attended. I opened the meeting by singing, and then attempted to pray; but in two minutes my voice was drowned in the general cry throughout the house, which continued all that day and night, and indeed for the greater part of three days. A great number professed to be converted, who stood fast and adorned their profession; but the best of all was, many who had lost their first love repented, and did their first works, and God restored them to his favor. Cecil Circuit had been added to the Philadelphia District. The quarterly meeting on this circuit was at hand, and I urged Dr. C. to attend it. He came with a number of the warmhearted members from his circuit. Some twenty or thirty professed to receive an evidence of the remission of their sins, and united with the Church. From this the fire began to spread to the South, and soon the whole peninsula was in a flame of revival. At the North also the influence was felt. Sparks were kindled in Middletown, Northumberland, Wilkesbarre, and quite up in the Genesee and Lake country in Western New York. In 1800 I was appointed to a district on the peninsula. There were in this district ten circuits, twenty traveling preachers, and about nine thousand members. This I deemed one of the most important charges I ever filled. The scenes which I witnessed at Smyrna, Dover, Milford, Centerville, Easton, and many other places, I have not ability to describe. During the times of revival in these places thousands of all ranks were drawn to the meetings, and spent days together in acts of devotion, apparently forgetful of their temporal concerns. In this way the work continued to extend until it became general. Here, as in Tennessee, I hesitated not to call at any house when I wanted refreshment or a night's entertainment. The candle of the Lord shone brilliantly about my path, and my cup was oftentimes full to overflowing."

At a Conference held this year at Smyrna, Del., he says, "there were persons present from almost all parts of the Eastern Shore, who witnessed the general excitement and gracious influence from the beginning to the end of the Conference, during which time hundreds were converted to God. These returned home, revived in their spirits, and wondering at what they had seen, and heard, and felt; and through the instrumentality of some of these the fires of revival were kindled up in their neighborhoods before the preachers arrived. At the close of this Conference one hundred persons were received on trial in the Church." Ware had charge of Bassett's protracted meeting, and "there were few of the principal houses in Dover in which there were not some converted during it; and more than once the whole night was employed, both in the church and private houses, in prayer for penitents, and in rejoicing with those who had obtained an evidence of pardon, or were reclaimed from their backslidings." So profound was the interest all over his district, that he says we knew not what to do with the thousands who attended the quarterly meetings. "Sometimes we were forced to resort to the woods, and even to hold our love-feasts in the grove. Our membership increased rapidly." He spent the remainder of the period in arduous labors on the Philadelphia and Jersey Districts.

Dr. Chandler, whom he had recalled to the itinerancy, became one of its most influential members. He was born in Maryland in 1764, converted at St. George's Church, Philadelphia, in 1790, joined the Conference in 1797, traveled several circuits in the Middle States with success, and was preparing to locate as a physician, when Ware's influence and Rush's counsels brought him again into active labors. He was eminently useful and popular on districts and in Philadelphia down to 1813, when he located, irrecoverably broken down in health. In 1822 his name was replaced upon the Conference roll, that he might die a member of the body, though unable to perform active service. He had preached as he had strength till 1820, when he was struck with paralysis in the pulpit of Ebenezer Church, Philadelphia: He went to the West Indies for relief, but suffered there a second attack, and hastened home to die. As usual with this malady, his mind shared the debility of his body, and for some time he was painfully troubled with doubts regarding his Christian experience and prospects; but a few days before his death the clouds dispersed, and left his last hours radiant as with an excess of light. On a Sunday morning he said to his class-leader; "Go to the meeting and tell them I am dying, shouting the praises of God!" His physician wrote that his disease was an almost universal paralysis, and "although his body was fast sinking, his mind, for two days, was restored to perfect vigor and correctness. During this time he seemed to be in the borders of the heavenly inheritance. He spoke of the glories, the joys, and the inhabitants of heaven as though he had been in the midst of them. He remarked to me at the time, that he felt that his soul had begun to dissolve its connection with the body; and that there was a freedom, a clearness and ease in its views and operations that was entirely new to him, of which he had never before formed a conception. "In fact," said he, "I know not whether I am in the body or out of it." Soon after this he sunk into a stupor, in which he remained to the last. His brethren of the Conference pronounce him a man of no ordinary grade. "In his deportment, dignity and humility, fervor and gentleness, plainness and brotherly kindness, with uniform piety, were strikingly exemplified. In the pulpit his soul was in his eloquence, his Saviour was his theme, and the divine unction that rested upon him, and the evangelical energy of his sermons, gave a success to his labors that has been exceeded by few." In stature he was of medium height, his countenance was "fine and expressive," his manners bland and polished, but without affectation; his intellect much above mediocrity, and his preaching often of an enrapturing eloquence.

Solomon Sharp, whose name is still familiar through out the Churches of the Middle States, was one of the conspicuous itinerants of these times, traveling important circuits in Delaware, large districts in New Jersey, and closing the period in Philadelphia. He was a native of the Eastern Shore of Maryland, where his parents had been pioneer Methodists. In 1791, when about twenty years old, he began to travel, "under the presiding elder;" the next year he was admitted to the Conference, and continued in the service, occupying almost all important appointments in New Jersey, Eastern Pennsylvania, and Delaware, down to 1835, when he was reported superannuated. The next year he died at Smyrna, Del. His last sermon, preached a short time previously, was on the text, "There remaineth, therefore, a rest for the people of God." After closing the discourse, in which he had treated with much interest of the final rest of saints, he was heard to exclaim, "Now I feel that my work is done!" He was found dead in his bed. The Minutes testify that, "as a Christian he was irreproachable, and as a preacher his talents were of an extraordinary character."

Solomon Sharp was an original, an eccentric, but a mighty man. His sermons were powerful, and delivered with a singular tone of authority, as if he were conscious of his divine commission. His form was tall, remarkably robust, and in his latter years he was one of the most noticeable and patriarchal figures in the Conference, with long white locks flowing upon his shoulders, and a bearing of no little dignity. He was subject to variations of mind, which bordered on hypochondria [Oxford Dict. hypochondria n. abnormal anxiety about one's health; morbid depression without real cause. — DVM], being at times one of the most vivacious and entertaining of talkers, full of anecdotes and apposite remarks; at others totally reticent, if not somber, in whatever company. His voice was powerful, and he sometimes used it to its utmost capacity, especially at camp-meetings; "but," says one of his friends, "there was nothing in his manner that savored of extravagance." He was noted for his courage, and it is supposed that he was hardly capable of feeling fear. He had occasion sometimes, at camp-meetings and elsewhere, to show this quality. No opponent challenged it a second time. In his old age a company of reckless young men attempted to play a "practical joke" upon, him, by sending for him to come to their workshop, under pretense that one of their number was in great distress of conscience, and was desirous that he should converse and pray with him. Prompt to obey every call of duty, and especially such a call as this, he hastened to the place, where he found a person apparently in such a state of mind as had been represented. He listened with close attention to the sad recital, and was about to proceed to give the appropriate instruction, when something in the appearance of one or more of the men who were standing around, awakened his suspicion that all was not right; and presently the whole company, not excepting the poor creature who had consented to be the subject of the impious farce, were exhibiting a broad grin at their imagined triumph. But the old hero was not at all at a loss how to meet such an emergency. He instantly closed the door and stood with his back against it; and, as there was no other way by which they could make their escape, they were obliged to listen, while he placed their characters and conduct in a light that was entirely new to them. He dwelt upon their meanness as well as their wickedness. He called them heaven-daring, heaven-provoking, hell-deserving sinners. He wrought himself up into a perfect storm of indignation, while he denounced upon them the threatenings of God, and brought vividly before them the terrors of the judgment. The infidel sneer and laugh soon gave place to the deepest concern; and it was not long before they actually trembled, like Belshazzar, when he saw the handwriting on the wall. And now they began to cry for mercy. "Down on your knees, down on your knees," said the veteran; and they actually fell upon their knees, praying, and begging the good old man to pray for them. He did pray for them, and some of them dated the beginning of a religious life from that period. [5]

Thomas Smith, whom we have met in Virginia, was an effective laborer in the revival scenes of this period in the Middle States. [6] He was converted in early life, and almost in the act of committing suicide. "I had caught up the rope," he says, "and had taken hold of the ladder, and put my foot on a round of it, when the thought rushed into my mind, 'It is an awful thing to die, you had better pray first.' " He dropped the rope at the foot of the ladder, fell on his knees, and continued praying till his disturbed mind was restored, and his troubled conscience found peace with God. In his eighteenth year he began to preach. In his twenty-second year (1798) he was received into the Philadelphia Conference. Throughout our present period he preached in Delaware and New Jersey with great power; the demonstrations which had attended Abbott's labors were repeated at almost all his appointments, and hundreds of souls were gathered into the societies. He and his colleague, Anning Owen, the itinerant hero of Wyoming [valley], suffered no little maltreatment. While on Flanders Circuit, "I went," he says, to a place called Dover, where there was a noted iron factory, owned by a few gentlemen, who neither feared God nor regarded man. In their employment were several hundred men, mostly foreigners, and they of the baser sort. Having been invited by a gentleman to preach in his house, I rode up to his door at the time appointed. The gentleman met me, expressing his sorrow at seeing me, saying that my coming to the place to preach had given such offense to his neighbors that he believed, did I attempt to preach, they would pull down the house and mob the people. While I yet sat on my horse I was surrounded by ruffians, for such they looked to be, and such they were. They informed me that I was not to preach there that night. 'So I perceive, gentlemen,' said I: 'this makes seven times that I have come to you in the name of my Master and your Judge, in a peaceful manner, and with a peaceful gospel, and seven times you have prevented me, save one. I am now clear of your blood, and you shall see my face no more until we stand at the judgment-seat of Christ. Three months ago you mobbed my colleague, Mr. Owen, a man upward of seventy years of age, for attempting to preach Jesus Christ to perishing sinners. You designed to kill him; but failing in that, you drummed him out of your town, court-martialed him on the road, made a halter to hang him, and treated him most shamefully and cruelly, disfiguring the horse on which he rode; then you drew his likeness on board, and set it up at auction, and sold the Lord's servant for twenty-five cents, who came seeking your salvation, desiring to rescue you out of the snare of the devil."

This hostility was chiefly, as he says, from foreigners, Romanists. Methodism subsequently made its way into the town, and the citizens erected a chapel for it. Elsewhere on their rugged circuit the two itinerants were thoroughly compensated for such trials by the affectionate attentions of the people, and, as they made their last round, the leave-takings were heartbreaking; the people hung around them, sobbing aloud. Though preaching with the utmost energy, Smith was remarkable for the shortness of his sermons, seldom exceeding twenty minutes. In these primitive times, when the congregations gathered from great distances, they demanded longer entertainment; and, strange as it may seem in our day, would sometimes remonstrate against his brevity. He never, however, would consent to prolong a single sermon, but sometimes would dispatch one, and, announcing a second text, discuss another subject, and formally concluding it, add even a third text and discourse. His introductory devotions had surpassing power, and such was his faith in prayer, that he sometimes ventured to extraordinary unwarrantable risks in its use. An example occurred on his Flanders Circuit, which, if it did not fully justify his prudence, yet showed the wonderful, not to say irresistible, unction and force of his supplications. At a quarterly meeting at Pemberton, "Sylvester Hutchinson," he says," preached, and mighty power from on high came among the people. I saw a young man sallying around in the crowd, and, coming to the left of the pulpit, I made my way to him, and inquired into the state of his mind. He told me he was in great distress on account of his sins. While conversing with him, three gentlemen came up, and insisted on his going away. I asked them if they were his guardians. They told me 'No.' I desired them to be quiet until I was done talking with him. They remarked that there was no necessity for talking with the young man on the subject of religion. 'Perhaps, gentlemen,' said I, 'you don't believe in the Christian religion?' They said, 'No; we do not.' I said, 'Gentlemen, will you suffer us to gather around you, and pray for you thirty minutes? After which, if there be no change in your minds on the subject of the Christian religion, I will agree to give it up myself.' They replied, 'Well, sir, we will take you up on your own proposal. You shall pray for us thirty minutes, and we will stand our ground until the thirty minutes shall have expired, and if any change be wrought in our minds by any supernatural power, we will, as honest men, confess it; but if there be no change in our minds as to the truth of the Christian religion, you shall, on your part, renounce it before this congregation.' My answer was, 'Gentlemen, I will most solemnly do so. Then it is a bargain. Amen.' I then called the attention of the congregation to this awful contract. Many faces turned pale, others trembled with fear lest I should be a ruined man from that night forever. I requested our friends to give up the whole block of seats next to the pulpit. 'Infidelity and Christianity are fairly at issue, and may the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, answer by fire!' I then called on all the official members of the church, and all who could pray in faith, to come up to the help of the Lord against the mighty. In one minute there were scores around us. But before we kneeled I delivered them a charge, and that was, 'Brethren, you are not to offer one prayer for the conversion of these gentlemen. If you do, that prayer will be lost; but send your petitions to the throne of grace, that God may convict them of the error of their way, as he did Saul of Tarsus on his way to Damascus.' This being understood, I cried, 'Let us pray.' At that moment I reckon there were twenty watches drawn from the pocket to mark the time. If I ever saw a time of prayer it was that night. The whole congregation were as one mouth and one breath. The foundations of the house seemed to tremble. I held my watch, and proclaimed the time. 'Five minutes of the time are gone! Ten minutes of the time are gone! Fifteen minutes of the time are gone!' and down came a Saul of Tarsus to the floor. And was there not a shout? It was like the tumbling down of the walls of Jericho. 'Twenty minutes of the time are gone!' and down came the second. 'Twenty-five minutes of the time are gone!' and the third gentleman took his seat. After the time allotted for prayer had expired, two gentlemen on the floor, and the third seated, I requested the congregation to be seated, and to be quiet, for the spirit of the prophets is subject to the prophets. I then called on these three gentlemen to tell the congregation if any change had taken place in their minds, and whether they then believed in the Christian religion. So many of them as could stand arose, and most solemnly declared that their minds had changed, and that they then believed that Jesus Christ was the Son of God. Christianity did at that time triumph over infidelity. To God be the glory!"

The itinerant's faith was admirable in its earnestness, and sublime in its power, but it went beyond his theology; he seemed not to remember that his Church believes in the freedom of the will, and the power of man to resist utterly religious convictions. He imprudently hazarded much, but his triumph was complete.

His courage was unshakable, and he needed it all in his many encounters with persecutors. On one of his circuits, in 1801, Ware was with him, preaching with overwhelming effect, while a band of young men waited at the door with bludgeons to attack Smith. When the meeting closed he boldly advanced through them, brushing their clothes, and seeing their clubs, but every arm hung down helpless. The next day he was fearlessly preaching among them in the open air to three thousand African slaves. A few days afterward he was "waylaid by four of his opposers, who had bound themselves under an oath to spill his blood that day." He appealed to God: "I will put my trust in thee;" and rode bravely past them, hearing them curse one another behind him, with mutual accusations of cowardice. Nothing could deter him. "The work of the Lord," he wrote, "has been going on day and night for six months past, and Christ's kingdom is coming. On this circuit we have no rest week. A pity we should, while souls are perishing for lack of knowledge. Let us be up and at our posts. We generally preach twice a day, meet two classes, and get up a prayer-meeting somewhere in the afternoon, if we can. Our work on this circuit is never done; we rest, and at it again."

In 1802 he traveled Dover Circuit with Chandler, and had his usual success. In the first five weeks two hundred and forty converts were received on probation. Methodism seldom experienced even local declension in these energetic times, but there was one memorable place on his circuit — "Blackiston's Meeting-house" — a building planned by Asbury himself where, after years of prosperity, the congregation had so much dwindled that the Sunday preaching was given up, and it had become a week-day appointment with a small class. To Smith such a fact was inadmissible in Methodism. He obtained a supply for one of his Sunday appointments, and resolved to spend the entire day with the decayed Church. "I held," he says, "a love-feast at eight o'clock, and many attended from neighboring classes. When it was near the time to close the love-feast I looked out at the pulpit window, and saw about three hundred people in the yard of the meeting-house, scores of whom were bathed in tears, smiting their breasts, and crying for mercy. I made this known to the friends, and advised them to open the doors and windows forthwith, and let the people come in. They did so. The people without rushed into the house, and there was one tremendous rush of God's power upon them. They fell before it in all directions, and the vast multitude lay on the floor like men slain in battle. There was no preaching until three o'clock in the afternoon. The people were coming and going to and from this meeting, night and day, until Tuesday at ten o'clock. There were several sermons preached in the time, but the meeting was carried on principally by prayer and exhortation. On Monday afternoon we gave an opportunity for all who had been converted at the meeting, to come forward and give in their names, when eighty-five came up to the altar, and were all received on probation in the Church." On Monday, about night, he attempted to break up the assembly, and left the house; but the people made a halt in the yard, and began to sing. The full moon was shining. Smith stood on a grave, and preached on the words, "At mid night there was a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom cometh!" "After closing the sermon we got back," he says, "into the meeting-house as well as we could, for such a time of God's power I never saw in this world before, and we then held on until ten o'clock on Tuesday morning. The Lord began this meeting, the Lord carried it on, and the Lord finished it; yea, this is the Lord's doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes." This occasion produced a general revival; a large society and congregation were formed at Blackiston's Meeting-house, where Sunday preaching was permanently restored.

Such was Thomas Smith throughout these and many subsequent years, a man who preached with the utmost brevity, but with the utmost power. He had great physical vigor, was stout to corpulence, below the ordinary height, erect and authoritative in mien, fastidiously neat in dress, exceedingly sociable among his intimate friends, and preached always with intense excitement, moving through his twenty-minute discourse like a war Steed in a charge.

Henry Boehm began his long itinerant career in our present period. We have repeatedly alluded to the old homestead of his venerable father, Martin Boehm, who, expelled from the "Mennonites" for his "too evangelical Opinions," became a bishop among the "United brethren," or "German Methodists," a people founded, as we have seen, by the labors of Asbury's friend, Otterbein." [7] He lived and died a patriarch of Methodism in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. His home at Conestoga is consecrated in the early Methodist records as the frequent shelter of Asbury, Whatcoat, and most of the Methodist leaders. We have noticed the achievements of Abbott in "Boehm's Chapel," and all the through its neighborhood. Henry Boehm, born in the homestead in 1775, was trained up under the best influences of Methodism and the benedictions of its best evangelists. "Morning and evening," he says, "the old family Bible was read, and prayer was offered. My father's voice still echoes in my ears. My mother, too, had much to do in molding my character and shaping my destiny. One evening as I returned home I heard a familiar voice engaged in prayer. I listened: it was my mother. Among other things, she prayed for her children, and mentioned Henry, her youngest son. The mention of my name broke my heart, and melted me into contrition. Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I felt the importance of complying with the command of God: 'My son, give me thine heart.' " [8]

He was converted in 1793, through the instrumentality of Chandler, but concealed the fact for five years. "These," he writes, "were lost years; lost to myself, lost to the Church, and lost to the world. There is nothing in my early history I regret so much as the loss of these five years; a loss that tears and prayers cannot recall, for time once lost is gone forever."

He heard Strawbridge and Abbott, and most of the itinerant "sons of thunder," at Boehm's Chapel. This famous structure was planned by Whatcoat, and built, in 1791, of limestone, on a hill which commands a magnificent view of the surrounding country. "There were wonderful gatherings," he says, "at Boehm's Chapel. The bishops and the great men of Methodism found their way there, and preached the word. At Quarterly meetings the people came from Philadelphia and the Eastern Shore of Maryland and the Western Shore from Watters' neighborhood. Boehm's Chapel was a great center of influence. It is difficult now to estimate the position it once occupied in Methodism. My father was 'given to hospitality,' and at great meetings fifty and even one hundred have been entertained at his house. Several itinerant ministers were raised up and went out from the neighborhood of the Chapel to preach the gospel. Ten I now think of; and there may be others: Joseph Jewell, Simon Miller, Richard Sneath, William and James Hunter, James and William Mitchell, Thomas and Robert Burch, and Henry Boehm. David Best and James Aiken were from the circuit. It is singular that they were all from Ireland except Jewell, Miller, and myself." In this noted temple Henry Boehm openly took upon him the vows of religion in 1798, and was received into the Church by Thomas Ware. He was soon appointed class-leader, began to exhort, and at last to preach. He was a spectator at the General Conference of 1800, and was inspired by its extraordinary scenes for the mission of his life. Thence he went with Chandler, McCombs, Bostwick, and others to the Philadelphia Conference at Smyrna, where he witnessed still more stirring scenes than at Baltimore; the session was held at a private house, that the chapel might be continually used for public worship. Love-feasts, preaching, prayer-meetings, beginning at sunrise, were held daily, and throughout almost the entire nights; the people crowded in from all the neighboring regions, and a hundred and fifty souls were converted before the adjournment of the Conference. "There were great revivalists at this Conference," continues Boehm: "W. P. Chandler, John Chalmers, Jesse Lee, each a host in himself; and many others, who entered heartily into the work. It was not confined to them; the preachers and people all had a mind to work. This Conference will ever be memorable as the most fruitful in saving souls of any ever held in America. Those who were not present can form but a faint idea of the nature of the work. Meetings were held day and night, with rarely any intermission. One meeting in the church continued forty-five hours without cessation. Many were converted in private houses and at family prayer, as well as in the house of the Lord. This revival did immense good; the preachers returned to their work like flames of fire. For several nights I did not take off my clothes, but lay down upon the sofa and rested a little while, and then was up and right into the thickest of the battle." He walked back to Lancaster, sixty miles, "having seen more, heard more, enjoyed more, since he left home, than in all his lifetime before."

In this year Thomas Ware called him out to travel Dorchester Circuit, Md., famous as the region into which Catharine Ennalls had introduced Methodism, and where Garrettson suffered his most memorable persecutions and imprisonment." [9] Henry Ennalls and his family were yet the chief supporters of the Church on this circuit, and his wife now saved Boehm, for though he could readily preach in German, his public use of the English language was difficult and embarrassing, and he began to despond and think of returning home when she, who "was one of the best of women, gave me," he says, "such a reproof as I shall never forget. 'My young brother,' she said, 'your eternal salvation may depend upon the course you are about to take. You may lose your soul by such an unwise, hasty step.' Then she exhorted me in the most earnest and emphatic manner not to abandon my work, but to keep on. I resolved in the strength of my Master to try again, and though over threescore years have gone into eternity since, 'having obtained help from God, I continue unto this day.' Well I remember that hospitable mansion; and the room in which we were, the attitude of the woman, her anxious countenance, her piercing eye, the tone of her voice, are all before me just as if it were yesterday. Her wise counsel has had an influence upon me all my days; it shaped my destiny for life. She has been in the grave many years, and I remember her still with a heart overflowing with gratitude." Airy, who had befriended Garrettson, was dead, but his widow still lived, a faithful witness for the truth, keeping open doors for the preachers. He visited her, and "in family prayer," he says, "we had a gracious time. The Holy Ghost descended in copious effusions, and the widow was so baptized that she shouted aloud for joy, and was greatly strengthened and encouraged. I retired to my couch feeling that my soul was resting in God. I preached at Ennalls' meeting-house. There was a class at Harry Ennalls': on the book were the names of Harry Ennalls, leader; Sarah, his wife; and Eliza Airey, the widow of Squire Airey. There were other honorable names that I have not space to transcribe — they are in the book of life. There were two colored classes that met at Ennalls': one had twenty members, the other twenty-five. We preached also at Airey's Chapel. This was not far from where Squire Airey lived and died, and it was called after him; there was a class or society here; there were forty-four names belonging to one class." Ennalls' and Airey's chapels were now important preaching places of the circuit.

His next circuit was Annamessex, where he labored with William Colbert. It has a singular history. An itinerant on his way to Accomac, beyond the line, in Virginia, inquired for his route, and was cruelly directed in a course that led him into Cypress Swamp, which extended many miles; plunging into it, he discovered that he had been deceived; but after wandering about in the mud, bogs, and water, in danger of sinking and perishing, he came out near the house of Jepthah Bowen, on the east side of the Pocomoke River. Bowen gave him a hearty welcome. The preacher prayed with so much effect in the family that he was invited to preach at the house. He did so, and the people were so pleased with his sermon that Bowen's house became a regular preaching place. Thus Methodism was providentially introduced into that region of the country. Jepthah Bowen and many of his neighbors were converted, and a society was early formed at his house. He lived long enough to see the frame of a new chapel erected, which bore his name. "This led to the formation of several societies in that region, and to the conversion of multitudes. His children and children's children were blessed, being the descendants of those who entertained the Lord's prophets."

Boehm's circuit was nearly two hundred miles around. "We preached," he says, "against slavery, and persuaded our brethren and those who were converted to liberate their slaves, and we were often successful. There was a revival both among the white and colored people. We preached at Snow Hill. It was formerly a wretched place, where the traffic in Negroes was carried on. The Georgia traders in human flesh came there and bought slaves, and then took them south and sold them. Methodism made a mighty change there and destroyed this inhuman traffic. Indeed the whole circuit had a wall of fire around it and a glory in the midst. In every appointment sinners were converted. The Peninsula seemed like a garden of God. Scenes took place that gladdened the eyes of angels and thrilled the heart of the Saviour. The Gospel had wonderful power, and the results were glorious, as the records of eternity will reveal." He subsequently labored on Kent, Bristol, and Dauphin Circuits. The latter was large, and mostly among a German population, to whom he and Jacob Gruber preached, in their vernacular, at twenty out of thirty appointments.

Asbury took up Boehm on the Bristol Circuit to accompany him to the West. "We went," says Boehm, "over the Dry Ridge and the Allegheny hills singing the praises of the Most High. We stopped in Berlin, Somerset County, on the top of the mountains. I preached in German, and the bishop exhorted. Here, on the top of the Allegheny Mountains, I parted with the bishop, having been with him fourteen days, and heard him preach eight times. He always loved the Germans, and as I could preach in that language, and few at that time could, be said to me, 'Henry, you had better return and preach to the Germans, and I will pursue my journey alone.' He did not send me back to Bristol, but to Dauphin, there being more Germans on that circuit. The bishop gave me his blessing, and with tears I bade him adieu, and he turned his face westward and I went eastward." Thus went the itinerants of those days; triumphing wherever they went. He introduced Methodism into Reading and Harrisburgh, not without much opposition. At the former, he says, "there was a shop in the neighborhood of the school-house, where some men used to meet together. One of the company, a young man, undertook to mimic the Methodists. He went on to show how they acted in their meetings. He shouted, clapped his hands, and then he would show how they fell down. (The Methodists in that day would sometimes fall and lose their strength.) He then threw himself down on the floor, and lay there as if asleep. His companions enjoyed the sport; but after he had lain for some time they wondered why he did not get up. They shook him in order to awake him. When they saw he did not breathe they turned pale, and sent for a physician, who examined the man and pronounced him dead. This awful incident did two things for us: it stopped ridicule and persecution; it also gave us favor in the sight of the people. They believed that God was for us. Little do the present Methodists of Reading know of our early struggles and difficulties. Now they have two churches, Ebenezer and St. Paul's, and Reading is the head of a district, which is not larger than my circuit in 1803." When James Smith, his presiding elder, came to the circuit, Boehm had to translate his discourses into German. Many of the people had never heard an English sermon. "German," he says, "was the pioneer language, and prepared the way for the English. I could have accomplished but little there if I had not been able to preach in German." Boehm and Gruber were thus successfully bearing the standard of Methodism into the German regions of Pennsylvania before the close of our present period. The former was to survive till our day; his personal life has been woven into our whole subsequent Church history, and we shall often have occasion to repeat his venerated name. "I saw," he writes, "the birth of our nation, and have lived under the first President, George Washington, and sixteen of his successors, to Andrew Johnson. I was born nine years before the Methodist Episcopal Church was organized, and have known all its bishops, from Thomas Coke, the first, to Calvin Kingsley, the last elected. My memory goes back over eighty years. I recollect when they traveled out West to Fort Pitt, now Pittsburgh, on 'pack horses.' The roads, if we may call them roads, for they were mere paths through the wilderness, were so rough that they could not be traveled any other way. I knew many of the fathers in the Methodist ministry, and have lived not only to bury the fathers, but many of their sons."

Jacob Gruber was one of the unique "characters" of these times. Many of us still recall him: his prim clerical costume, his white locks sleekly combed behind his ears, his German accent, his glowing, genial face, with its quizzical play of humor and sarcasm that at once attracted, and held on anxious guard, the interlocutor, his unrivaled power of quaint and apposite illustration, his aptness and humor in telling a story, his tireless readiness for labor, and his staunch tenacity for everything Methodistic. His colleague, Boehm, says he was at this time a fine intelligent looking man, and his countenance often expressed a thing before his tongue uttered it. "He had a German face and a German tongue, and often looked quizzical. He wore a drab hat, and a suit of gray cut in Quaker style. With a rough exterior, but a kind heart, it was necessary to know him in order to appreciate him. A more honest man never lived, a bolder soldier of the cross never wielded 'the sword of the Spirit.' As a preacher he was original and eccentric. His powers of irony, sarcasm, and ridicule were tremendous, and woe to the poor fellow who got into his hands; he would wish himself somewhere else. I heard him preach scores of times, and always admired him; not only for his originality, but at all times there was a marvelous unction attending his word."

He was born in Bucks County, Pa., in 1778, and became a Methodist before he was fifteen years old. He was driven by his father from his home on account of his new faith; they were reconciled, and he was received again under the parental roof; but his zealous labors for the religious welfare of his neighbors produced such excitement as to lead to his second and final expulsion. He took his leave, with his clothes in a knapsack on his back, and wended his way on foot toward Lancaster, not knowing what should befall him. But on the route a Methodist preacher on horseback accosted him; a few minutes conversation sufficed to make known his forlorn case to the itinerant, who exhorted him to go out forthwith and preach the gospel, recommending him to a vacancy on a circuit. No advice could better suit Gruber's feelings at the moment. He immediately spent all his little means in purchasing a horse, and mounting him was away for the circuit. Thus commenced, in about his twenty-second year, his long and never-slackened itinerant career of more than half a century, during the whole of which, it has been affirmed as "a remarkable fact," that there was not a gap or intermission of four consecutive weeks for any cause whatever. [10] His appointments extended from New Jersey through Pennsylvania to the Greenbrier Mountains of Western Virginia, from the interior Lake regions of New York to the shores of the Chesapeake. He was presiding elder eleven years, was on circuits thirty-two, and during seven filled important stations in Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington. He died an honored veteran of more than seventy-two years, and in a manner befitting his career. On being informed that he could not live through another night, "Then," he replied, "tomorrow I shall spend my first Sabbath in heaven! Last Sabbath in the Church on earth next Sabbath in the Church above!" and with evident emotion added, "Where congregations never break up, and Sabbaths never end!" He requested a fellow-laborer to collect a few brethren and sisters around him, "to see me safe off," (to use his own words,) "and while I am going sing, 'On Jordan's stormy banks I stand.' " They were gathered, and sung while his spirit calmly took its flight.

It has been affirmed that he performed more work, preached more sermons, endured more fatigue and hardship, with less abatement of mental and physical energy, than perhaps any other minister of his times. Like most of the primitive Methodist preachers, he was a courageous opponent of slavery, and hesitated not to preach against it. We shall hereafter see him arraigned before a court of Maryland for his fidelity to his ministerial office in this respect, in a case which resulted in his honorable acquittal, and an important demonstration of the antislavery position of the Church before a slave holding people.

Peter Vannest was a worthy coadjutor of these faithful men. He was born in Bethlehem Township, New Jersey, in 189. When about thirty years old he was in England, and there heard a Wesleyan preacher, whose discourse was so pungent, and seemed so personal to him, that his conscience was profoundly awakened. He at once became a Methodist, and acquired the friendship of Wesley. Henry Moore, the biographer of Wesley, commissioned him as a local preacher. He was thoroughly trained in Methodism, and was characteristically tenacious of its peculiarities throughout the remainder of his life. He returned to America in 1796, was admitted in the same year to the Philadelphia Conference, and appointed to a circuit in New Jersey, but did not travel it. The next year he was sent to New England. He labored some years in the Eastern States, then in Canada during two years, and subsequently for seventeen years in the middle states, from Western New York to Maryland. Taking a "superannuated relation" in 1821, he resided in Pemberton, N.J., till his death in 1850. He was revered as a veteran throughout the Church. "To the last he watched over the Church in Pemberton. When he was in his ninety-second year he was often seen, with staff in hand, going about from house to house, and inquiring with great interest in respect to both the temporal and spiritual welfare of the inmates." [11] His death was not only peaceful, it was triumphant. His name will often recur in our pages.

Thomas Burch joined the Philadelphia Conference in the last year of our present period. "his mother," says Boehm, "lived in the neighborhood of my father's, and belonged to the society at Boehm's Chapel, and so did her sons. She had a daughter who married a preacher. The mother was a woman of intelligence and decision of character. Years afterward she lived in Columbia, and I used to put up with her with Bishop Asbury when I traveled with him. It affords me pleasure, now [that] she and her sons sleep in the grave, to make a record of her virtues. They were from Ireland; emigrated to this country in June, 1800, and settled in the neighborhood of my father's. She was a widow, having lost her husband several years before. They had been converted under the ministry of Ireland's great missionary, Gideon Ouseley, of whom they often spoke in the most exalted terms. Thomas, the oldest son, was my father's and mother's class-leader. The class met at my father's house; it was an old class, formed before I was born. I heard some of his earliest efforts at exhortation and at preaching. I encouraged him and his brother Robert to enter the ministry. Robert joined the Philadelphia Conference in 1804, and Thomas in 1805. I have rode hundreds of miles with them, attended a great many meetings, and heard them preach scores of times. They soon occupied some of our most important stations, with honor to themselves and usefulness to the Church. Thomas had a voice remarkably soft and musical, yet strong. He was one of the most eloquent and popular preachers of the day. In 1810, when he had been only four years in the ministry, he was stationed in Philadelphia. He died in Brooklyn, August 22, 1849, aged seventy, having been forty-four years in the ministry. He left a son, who is a member of the New York East Conference."

His labors extended from Montreal to Baltimore, in the most prominent appointments of the Church. One of his familiar ministerial associates says: "He was one of the most amiable and sweet-tempered men whom I ever knew. All his actions as well as words breathed the spirit of good-will. He was gentle, unassuming, and affectionate in all his intercourse, and uncommonly conscientious and devout. His mind was clear and safe in its operations, and, considering his advantages for education, remarkably well-disciplined. As a preacher he always held a very high rank. The most remarkable attribute of his preaching, and indeed of his character generally, was a charming simplicity. He evidently spoke out of the depths of a well-stored mind, as well as of a full, strong, Christian heart; and there was so much of nature in his manner, and such an entire absence of all apparent effort, that it seemed as if he had only to open his lips and the right thoughts, clothed in the right language, would come of course." [12]

It was in the present period that the "Evangelical Association," sometimes called "German Albright Methodists," had its origin in Pennsylvania. This sect must not be confounded with the "United Brethren," or "German Methodists," of whom some account has been given in our pages. Jacob Albright was converted under the ministry of the elder Boehm, and became a local preacher among the Methodists [13] in the year 1790. In 1796 he began to itinerate as an evangelist among the Germans, being convinced that "his call was exclusively to them." Asbury "esteemed him as a brother beloved," and doubtless the prevalent influence and example of Methodism in Pennsylvania prompted his extraordinary labors, and its practical system became the model of the organization of his people. In 1807 Henry Boehm procured, at his own expense, the translation and publication in German of the Methodist Discipline. The translator was an accomplished scholar, Dr. Romer, of Middletown, Pa., a physician, who had been educated in Europe as a Roman priest, but whose vigorous intellect had broken away from popery and had fallen into philosophic skepticism. The devoutly exemplary life of a remarkable Methodist woman restored his faith. He became a Methodist in 1800, and his house was for years a home and a "preaching place" of the early itinerants. He prefixed to his version of the Discipline an admirable account of Methodism. This book had great influence on the Germans of not only Pennsylvania but of other parts of the country, for Boehm and Asbury circulated it generally. We owe to it doubtless the Methodistic type so strongly impressed upon both the Otterbein and Albright communions, the "United Brethren in Christ," and the "Evangelical Association." The former, as we have seen, have the Methodistic economy in detail; the latter has equally adopted it, both in its ecclesiastical system, and its articles of religion. Albright organized his converts in 1800. In 1803 their increase demanded more thorough care, and he was appointed their presiding elder. They were regularly organized as a Conference in 1807, the year of Romer's translation of the Discipline. Albright died six months after the Conference. In 1809 his people took the name of "Albrights," and at the same time one of their preachers framed their Articles of Faith and Discipline. In our day they are an important part of the German Methodistic Christianity of the country, reporting eight Conferences, three bishops, four hundred and five traveling, and three hundred and twenty-three local preachers, with more than fifty thousand communicants, and several educational institutions. Thus, while the denomination was spreading out, wave after wave, among the general population of the country, it was continually revealing special power or adaptation for special classes. Its peculiar "economy" and its spiritual vitality explain, in part, at least, this ever-varying and ever-growing success. Its ministerial itinerancy brought it into the presence, face to face, of every class in almost every locality. Its spiritual vitality met a profoundly felt want of earnest minds, in whatever class, a want that was not usually met by contemporary communions. Thousands, rich and poor, hastened from the comparatively dead Churches into its living and moving ranks. They were not inveigled into them, for from the beginning down to our day Methodism has been characteristically abhorrent of the artifices of proselytism. It opens its arms to all who come to it for spiritual help, and asks not whence they come, if they evidently come only for such help. If it at first drew, undesignedly and largely, the devout from other Churches, it has in later years, after provoking such Churches to renewed life, more than compensated their early losses by yielding to them thousands and tens of thousands of its converts and children.

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ENDNOTES

1 See vol. ii, p. 460.

2 Lee, 1801-1804.

3 This volume was entitled "Extracts of Letters, containing some Account of the Work of God since the Year 1800, etc. New York, 1805." An edition was, printed also at Bernard, Vt., in 1812. It has long been out of print. My citations are from it.

4 Rev. Joshua Marsden, a distinguished Wesleyan preacher, who was, in the United States in 1814, says: "One of his pupils related to me a singular anecdote respecting him. He was at one time attending his lectures, and remarked that in one of them he branched out upon a subject, which he, Dr. Sargent, had read, more largely treated upon in a work of Mr. Fletcher's, and, meeting with Dr. Rush afterward, my friend asked him if he knew the writings of Mr. Fletcher. 'Ah, yes,' replied the doctor, 'I know the writings of that great and good man well, and can assure you he was the first that knocked the shackles of absolute unconditional predestination from my mind. Before I read his works I could not pray for all men; but he set me at liberty; and if I meet him in heaven, I will thank him, and say, You, Mr. Fletcher, gave me just views of God's love to the human family.' This anecdote may be depended upon as an absolute fact" — Marsden's Narrative of a Mission, etc., p. 319. London, 1827. Drs. Rush and Physic, the two most eminent members of the Philadelphia faculty of that day, were physicians general to the itinerants of the Middle States. Asbury often mentions them. He says, (May 1, 1811,) "Drs. Rush and Physic paid me a visit. How consoling it is to know that these great characters are men fearing God! I was much gratified, as I ever am, by their attentions, kindness, and charming conversation; indeed they have been of eminent use to me, and I acknowledge their services with gratitude." Boehm (p. 343) says: "It was at this interview, as they were separating, the bishop inquired what he should pay for their professional services. They answered, 'Nothing; only an interest in your prayers.' Said Bishop Asbury, 'As I do not like to be in debt, we will pray now;' and he knelt down and offered a most impressive prayer that God would bless and reward them for their kindness to him."

5 Sprague, p. 217.

6 Experience and Ministerial Labors of Rev. Thomas Smith, etc. Edited by Rev. David Daily: New York, 1848.

7 Lee, vol. i, p. 216.

8 Reminiscences, Historical and Biographical, etc., by Rev. Henry Boehm. Edited by Rev. J. B. Wakeley, p. 18. New York, 1865.

9 See vol. i, p. 369.

10 Rev. Dr. Monroe, in Christian Advocate," New York.

11 Sprague, p. 277.

12 Rev. Dr. Luckey, in Sprague, p. 423.

13 Lednum, p. 241. Lednum errs in naming him Peter Albright, also in attributing the German translation of the Methodist Discipline to the "Albrights." See Boehm's Reminiscences, p. 173.

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