VOLUME 3 — BOOK V — CHAPTER VII
METHODISM IN THE EASTERN STATES — l793 —1796

Lee at Boston — His Itinerant Excursions — Asbury re-enters New England — The Lynn Conference — Benjamin Bemis — Pickering's Homestead — Conference at Tolland — Enoch Mudge, first Native Methodist Preacher of New England — His Early Labors and Character — Aaron Hunt — Joshua Taylor — Daniel Ostrander — Zadock Priest, first Itinerant who died in New England — His Affecting Death — His Grave — Joshua Hall — Lee itinerating in Maine — First Circuit formed — Persecutions — Thomas Ware — Hope Hull — His Eloquence — Rev. Mr. Williams and Rev. Dr. Huntington attack the Methodists — Methodism in Tolland — Asbury Returns — Methodism in Boston — Results of the Year

I have recorded the progress of Methodism in the Eastern States from its origin in 1789 down to the first New England Conference in 1792. Lee went from this session to the General Conference at Baltimore, and afterward to his paternal home in Virginia, where he spent about five months preaching continually, and making excursions, to counteract the schism of O'Kelly. On the 20th of February, 1793, he re-entered Boston with horse and saddlebags, in the fashion of the primitive Methodist itinerancy. He arrived after dark, much fatigued, "and with wet feet," from the wintry slush of the roads. His recollections of Boston could not be the most cheering, but he now found there a warm welcome, and "was comforted," he says, "with the Boston class, which met soon after I got at Mr. Burrill's." The next day he hastened with a glad heart to his "old friends" at Lynn, feeling "thankful to God for bringing him back again," and still more thankful to find "that religion had revived among the people" in his absence.

On the next Sabbath (24th) he preached to them in their yet unfinished house from 2 Sa xx, 9: "Art thou in health, my brother?" "It was a good time," he says, "to the people, and profitable to myself. We then administered the sacrament, and three grown persons were baptized, and several added to the Church."

He continued about three weeks in Lynn and its vicinity, but as it was supplied by the services of Rainor, he departed on the 18th of March on another excursion. He says: "I set off on my tour to Rhode Island and Connecticut. I rode to Boston, and at night preached on Gal. iii, 11. I found satisfaction in preaching, and the people were quite attentive. Then Brother Ezekiel Cooper exhorted, and his words seemed to have much weight with the hearers."

During this tour he visited Easton, Pawtuxet, Warwick, Greenwich, Wickford, Charlestown, New London; thence he journeyed to General Lippett's, in Cranston, to Providence, Needham, and on to Boston; after which he returned to Lynn. He continued to travel and preach almost daily until the Conference of the first of August ensuing, confining himself, however, (if indeed it can be called confinement,) mostly to Boston, Lynn, Marblehead, and Salem. Lynn was his favorite resort, "being," says his biographer, "more attached to it than to any other place within the bounds of his district."

On the 21st of July Asbury again entered New England on his way to the second Lynn Conference. He was weary, and had been sick nearly four months, but pressed onward, attending to his responsible business, and traveling during these four months of illness about three thousand miles. On "Monday 28," he says, "we rode upward of thirty miles, through great heat, to Lynn. On our way we fed our horses, and bought a cake and some cheese for ourselves; surely we are a spectacle to men and angels. The last nine days we have rode upward of two hundred miles, and, all things taken together, I think it worse than the wilderness. The country abounds with rocks, hills, and stones, and the heat is intense, such as is seldom known in these parts."

Though wearied and feeble, he thought not of repose. The next day he ascended the pulpit and proclaimed, "Hear ye me Asa, and all Judah, and Benjamin; the Lord is with you, while ye be with him, and if ye seek him, he will be found of you; but if ye forsake him he will forsake you." 2 Chron. xv, 2.

On the first day of August, 1793, the Conference convened at Lynn. The preachers of the circuits in Western New England were not present, as a separate session had been appointed for their convenience at Tolland, Conn., to be held in about a week after the one at Lynn. We have but little information respecting the Lynn session. Eight preachers were in attendance. Asbury remarks, "We have only about three hundred members in the district; yet we have a call for seven or eight preachers: although our members are few, our hearers are many." The business of the session closed on Saturday. The next day four sermons were delivered in the new chapel, beginning at six o'clock in the morning. The little band of itinerants partook of the Lord's Supper with the disciples at Lynn, and on Monday morning dispersed to their various fields to suffer, labor, and triumph another year. They had refreshed themselves by the hospitality of the young and prosperous Church by the interchange of their ministerial sympathies, and by united invocations of the blessing of God on their common work; but a cloud had hung over their small assembly, and their hearts had been touched, though not unprofitably, by deep sorrow. The news of the O'Kelly schism in the South reached them. Nearly twenty-five preachers, in various parts of the connection, had ceased to travel; four of them had withdrawn, and among these was their own "Boanerges." John Allen had laid down his Sinai trumpet to take it up no more. He was esteemed one of the most powerful preachers in the connection, but was infected with O'Kelly's errors. Lee attributed his alienation to this fact. [1] He became a Congregationalist, then a Universalist, and at last retired to Maine as a physician. Other causes of grief added to the bitterness of these, and the sick and way worn Asbury resumed his travels, remarking, that "circumstances had occurred which made this Conference more painful than any one Conference besides."

But "no man having put his hand to the plow, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God;" these men so believed, and they believed also that "there remaineth a rest for the people of God." They addressed themselves therefore with renewed zeal to their toils and sufferings, and none more so than Asbury, who now mounted his horse, and set his face toward the West. He passed a short time at Waltham, in the homestead of Benjamin Bemis, who was one of the first Methodists in that town, and whose mansion sequestered among hills, and surrounded with fragrant orchards, became not only a sanctuary for the worship of his rustic neighbors, but the favorite home of the itinerants of Methodism. He was a man of wealth, and his hospitalities seemed only to enhance his prosperity. Nearly all the great men of the early Church were entertained beneath his roof, and proclaimed the "glorious Gospel" in the shade of his trees to the assembled yeomanry of the town. The conversion of many souls has consecrated the spot, and its old historical reminiscences still endear it to the Methodists of the Eastern States. Its devoted proprietor lived to enjoy a happy and sanctified old age, and died in full hope of meeting his itinerant brethren in heaven. It became the family residence of Pickering, who married the daughter of Bemis, and passed to heaven amid its venerable associations. [2] Here Asbury now preached to a large assembly, and was cheered to find a deep interest among the people. "Several souls," he writes, "are under awakenings, and there is hope the Lord will work. The harvest is great; the living faithful laborers are few."

His physical sufferings increased, but he pressed forward. On Monday, 11, the Conference met in Tolland, Conn. [3] This town was about the center of the region included in what was then the Tolland Circuit. [4] It was previously connected with the Hartford Circuit, and the great reformation, which had extended like fire in stubble through the latter, under the labors of Hope Hull, George Roberts, Lemuel Smith, and their colleagues, the preceding two years, had left distinct traces in Tolland. A small society had been formed, and a chapel erected on the estate of an excellent townsman, Mr. Howard, who befriended the infant Church, and most of whose family were made partakers of the grace of life through its instrumentality. It was in this chapel, then but partially finished, that the Conference assembled. Most of the preachers, ten or twelve in number, were entertained at Howard's hospitable house, where, as with Bemis, Lippett, Barratt, Bassett, Gough, Rembert, and Russell, the itinerants of these early times found sumptuous fare among the few "noble" who believed. Asbury addressed them from 2 Tim. ii, 24-26: "The servant of the Lord must not strive; but be gentle unto all men, apt to teach, patient; in meekness instructing those that oppose themselves; if God peradventure will give them repentance to the acknowledging of the truth," etc. "Lame as I was," he writes, "I went through the business; I was tired out with labor, heat, pain, and company." Yet he departed the same day. "Being unable to ride on horseback, I drove on in a carriage through the rain, over the rocks, in the dark, and came to Dr. Steel's, at Ellington. I am now not able to move from my horse to a house." Unable to ride his horse, he still journeyed onward. "I came in Brother S.'s carriage to Hartford. From what we can gather, we are encouraged to hope that upward of three hundred souls have been awakened, and more than two hundred converted to God the last year. If this work goes on, Satan will be laboring by all means, and by every instrument."

From Middletown he passed to New Haven, thence to Derby, "with a return of inflammation in the throat," thence to West Haven, "very unwell," thence he "had heavy work to get to Redding, being lame in both feet." On his way to the latter place he was compelled to "lay down on the roadside." "I felt," he says," like Jonah or Elijah. I took to my bed at Redding." The bed, however, was no place for such a man. On the eighteenth we find him riding "ten miles on horseback, and thirteen in a carriage," to Bedford, where he "rested a day at dear Widow Banks', and was at home," exclaiming, "O how sweet is one day's rest!" On the twentieth he left New England, "riding thirty-three miles" on horseback. "On the route my horse started," he says, "and threw me into a mill-race, knee deep in water, my hands and side in the dirt; my shoulder was hurt by the fall I stopped at a house, shifted my clothes, and prayed with the people. If any of these people are awakened by my stopping there, all will be well." Such was Asbury, and such his early toils and sufferings in New England. He belongs to her history as well as to that of every other portion of the Church, and the personal incidents of his official visitations to the East, however scanty, are no insignificant illustrations of the times and the man.

The Lynn and Tolland Conferences formed the following plans of labor for the ensuing year:

Ezekiel Cooper, Elder; Boston, Amos G. Thompson; Needham, John Hill; Lynn, Jordan Rexford; Greenwich, David Kendall, Enoch Mudge; Warren, Philip Wager; Province of Maine and Lynn, Jesse Lee.

George Roberts, Elder; Hartford, George Pickering, Joshua Hall; New London, G. Roberts, R. Swain, F. Aldridge; Middletown, Joshua Taylor, Benjamin Fidler; Litchfield, Lemuel Smith, Daniel Ostrander; Tolland, Joseph Lovell. Besides these, there were three New England Circuits within the Albany District, under the Presiding Eldership of Thomas Ware: namely, Granville, Hezekiah Wooster and Jason Perkins; Pittsfield, James Covel and Zadok Priest; and Fairfield, Aaron Hunt and James Coleman. The itinerant field in New England comprehended, then, two districts, and part of a third, fourteen circuits and stations, and twenty-five laborers.

This bare catalogue of names is strikingly suggestive. We find in it itinerants whom we have already met in other and remote fields; the records of no other body of men, except perhaps in military history, can show such movement and energy. We have sketched elsewhere several of these militant evangelists: Cooper, Pickering, Roberts, Wooster, Ware, Coleman, but some of the remainder equally merit our attention.

Enoch Mudge bore the distinguished honor of being the first native Methodist preacher of New England. He was born in Lynn, Mass., on the 21st of June, 1776. "O what a mercy," he exclaims in a manuscript record before me, "that I was born of parents that feared the Lord, and consecrated me early to him! If they did not fully know the way of the Lord when I was born their hearts were imbued with his fear. I distinctly recollect that among my first impressions were those made by their pious efforts to give me just views of the goodness of my heavenly Father, and the great benevolence of my kind and gracious Redeemer. While truth and grace were thus struggling for an early existence, all that is natural to an unrenewed heart was working in their usual courses, checked indeed, but not subdued. When, in my fifteenth year, Jesse Lee came to Lynn, my parents were among the first to hear and welcome the joyful tidings of a Gospel which they never before had known in such richness. They were both brought into the liberty of the truth. The fruits of piety in them were clearly discerned by me. Lee's preaching was affecting, searching, humbling, soothing, and instructing. I longed to have him talk with me, but dared not put myself in his way. I resolved and reresolved to open my mind to him; but when the time came my heart failed. About four months passed away in this manner. I heard preaching, went to class-meeting, and sought the company of serious persons. When fear, gloom, and despair began to hover over me, at a class-meeting, John Lee, who was truly a son of consolation, seeing my case, was enabled to pour in the balm of divine truth, and lead my thirsty soul to the fountain of grace, opened in the atonement for poor, weary, and heavy-laden sinners. I left the meeting with a ray of hope, retired, and poured out my soul before God. Access was granted, and encouragement dawned amid the darkness. I feared to go to sleep lest I should lose the tender and encouraging views and feelings I had. I had little sleep, arose early, and went forth for prayer. My mind became calm, tranquil, and joyful. I was insensibly led forth in praise and gratitude to God. I drew a book from my pocket and opened on the hymn that commences with

'O joyful sound of Gospel grace!

Christ shall in me appear;

I, even I, shall see his face;

I shall be holy here.'

"The whole hymn seemed more like an inspiration from heaven than anything of which I had a conception, except the word of God. I could only read a verse at a time, and then give vent to the gushing forth of joy and grateful praise. In this way I went through it. But I said to myself; What is this? Is it pardon? Is it acceptance with God? I cannot tell; but I am unspeakably happy. I dared not to say this is conversion. It is what I have sought and longed for; but O that I could always be thus grateful to God, and have my heart flow forth in such a tide of love to my Saviour. During the day, which was the 16th of September, 1791, I often sought to be alone to give vent to my feelings. At evening I sought to unbosom myself to a young man with whom I was familiar, on these subjects. As soon as I had told him he burst into tears, and said, 'O, Enoch, God has blessed your soul! do pray for me, that I may partake of the love and joy God has given you.' And now, for the first time, my voice was heard in praying with another. My faith became confirmed, and I went on with increasing consolation and strength. In this state of mind I could not be content to enjoy such a heavenly feast alone. I took opportunity to speak to my young friends; a goodly number embraced the Saviour, and devoted their lives to his service. I heard Lee preach from this text: 2 Tim. ii, 19, 'Let every one that nameth the name of Christ, depart from iniquity.' I felt the privilege and obligation of having been consecrated to God by parents, and of making a surrender of myself to him. It was with fear and trembling I went forward to the holy communion; but the Lord blessed his word and ordinance to me, and I found wisdom's ways pleasant, and all her paths peace. I felt the need of mental and moral cultivation, and applied my mind to it; but have reason to lament the want of a judicious instructor."

The economy of Methodism is peculiarly adapted to call out talent and direct it to its appropriate sphere. Its numerous minute services, in which every member is expected to share as he is able, render manifest generally the whole ability of its people. From praying in the prayer-meeting, they rise to be class-leader, exhorters, and, if God grants them gifts, and the call of his Spirit, local, and, finally, traveling preachers. Enoch Mudge passed through these gradations. Marblehead, Maiden, Boston, and other places, were often visited by him at the request of Lee. He began by "exhorting" at their social meetings, and, in time,, expounded the Scriptures in their pulpits, applying himself meanwhile to appropriate studies.

At the New England Conference held in Lynn, August 1, 1793, he was received on trial, and appointed to Greenwich Circuit, R. I. Warren and Greenwich Circuits were united, and included all the State of Rhode Island, and all the towns in Massachusetts as far east as Bridgewater, Middleborough, etc. "This," he writes, "was a most important crisis in my life. I was a youth in my eighteenth year, leaving my father's house, from which I had not been absent a week at a time in the course of my life. The Methodists were a denomination little known, generally opposed and disputed in every place they approached. Never had a preacher of this order been raised in New England before. All eyes were opened for good or for evil. Hopes, fears, and reproaches were alive on the subject. My friends felt and prayed much for me but my own mind was keenly sensible of the importance of the undertaking. Anxiety and incessant application to duty brought on a distressing pain in my head, and finally threw me into a fever within two weeks after leaving home. The Lord was gracious, and kept my mind in a state of resignation and peace. I felt that it was a chastening for reluctance to duty, and strove to be more entirely devoted to the work. I was very sick for a short time, but got out as soon as possible. It had been reported that I was dead, and one man, who felt an interest in my case, came to the house to make arrangements for my funeral. When I set out on my circuit again I was hardly able to sit on my horse, and suffered much through weakness and distress occasioned by riding. I met with much better acceptance than I feared. With feelings of unutterable gratitude, I returned at the close of the year to my father's house in peace, health, and gladness of heart, to see my friends and attend Conference. Never did my parents appear so dear. Never did the quiet and retired scenes of home appear so precious. But I had no home now. I felt I was but a visitor. It would be as useless as impossible to try to describe my emotions. With a heart ready to burst with yearning for home, and the early attachments of my first Christian friendship, I left for my new appointment on New London Circuit, which required about three hundred miles travel to compass it. I attended Conference at Wilbraham, September 8, 1794, and went thence, in company with Jesse Lee, to New London, and commenced my labors. Here was a very laborious field for three preachers. The senior preacher, Wilson Lee, was taken sick, and called off from his labors." We have seen his mission thence to Southold, L. I. "I had," continues Mudge, "daily renewed cause of gratitude for the abundant goodness of God to such a feeble, utterly unworthy instrument as he graciously deigned to use for the good of precious souls. Riding, visiting, preaching, class and prayer-meetings, took up the time every day in the week. After the second quarter was past, which I felt was profitable to me, and I hope to many others, I went to supply the place of a preacher who had left Litchfield Circuit, Mass., and after going once around, I passed to Granville, Conn. This was an extensive field, and required much labor. Here I had the happiness of having Joshua Taylor as a fellow-laborer. I derived instruction and profit by a brotherly intercourse with him. On this circuit, also, I first became acquainted with Timothy Merritt, before he was a preacher. His piety and devotedness to God and the cause of religion gave an earnest of his future usefulness. He began to preach the next year. Our next Conference was held at New London. Here I received deacon's orders, and was appointed to Readfield Circuit, in the then Province of Maine. Long rides and bad roads, crossing rivers without ferry-boats, buffeting storms, breaking paths, sleeping in open cabins and log huts, coarse and scanty fare, all served to call out the energies of the mind and body. I assure you this was a pleasant task, and a soul-satisfying scene of labor, because the people were hungry for the word. O my blessed Master, may I hope to meet many in thy kingdom who then first heard and embraced the word of truth! Preaching places multiplied, our borders were enlarged, the Church increased, God prospered his cause.

"Readfield was the first place in the State of Maine where a Methodist meeting-house was erected. A glorious work was commenced, that has, in its advancement, filled the land. It was on this circuit I formed an acquaintance with young Joshua Soule, now Bishop Soule. I had received his wife into society on my first circuit, when she was only about twelve years old, and he was but about sixteen. He had a precocious mind, a strong memory, a manly and dignified turn, although his appearance was exceedingly rustic. In mentioning Mrs. Soule, I am reminded of several pious young women who embraced religion on my first circuit, and who afterward became the wives of several distinguished preachers. Among these were Mrs. Kent, Mrs. Soule, Mrs. Hill, Mrs. Ostrander, and Mrs. S. Hull. It is cheering to look over the scene and recognize the children and children's children of those who then were brought into the Church in its infancy.

"In 1796 our Conference was held at Thompson, in the State of Connecticut. Here I received elder's orders, although but just entering my twentieth year. I was stationed at Bath, in Maine. Jesse Lee, our presiding elder, went to the South, and was absent six months. I attended the quarterly meetings, and went around the circuits to administer the ordinances. This was a year of incessant labor, great exposure, and toil, so that toward its close my health failed. Although stationed at Bath, I preached there but one or two Sabbaths. The work in Maine being under my charge, in the absence of Lee, I went to Penobscot, whither the appointed preacher declined going. He supplied Bath for me, and I went on to Penobscot, picked up some scattered appointments, and opened others; organized Churches, sent for help, enlarged the field of labor, and had a prosperous year there." [6]

Such was the beginning of the long ministerial career of Enoch Mudge, one of the chief and most admirable characters of New England Methodist history. In stature he was below the ordinary height, stoutly framed, with a full round face healthfully colored, and expressive of the perfect benignity and amiability of his spirit. In advanced life his undiminished but silvered hair crowned him with a highly venerable aspect. In manners, he would have been a befitting companion for, St. John. The spirit of Christian charity imbued him; hopefulness, cheerfulness, entire reliance on God, confidence in his friends, extreme care to give no offense, and a felicitous relish of the reliefs and comforts of green old age, were among his marked characteristics. He was distinguished by excellent pulpit qualifications, fertility of thought, warmth of feeling without extravagance, peculiar richness of illustration, and a manner always self-possessed and marked by the constitutional amenity of his temper. None were ever wearied under his discourses. He published a volume of excellent sermons for mariners, and many poetical pieces of more than ordinary merit. We shall meet him again in the course of our narrative.

Aaron Hunt survived to the present generation, one of the most venerated men of the denomination. He was born in East Chester, Westchester county, New York, March 28, 1768. When near seventeen years of age, he went to New York city, and was employed as clerk in a store by a distant relative. "There I prided myself;" he says, "in just dealing and good morals, and generally attended divine worship in the Protestant Episcopal Church, where the doctrine taught confirmed me in the belief that all religion consisted in morals and ordinances." [7] When about nineteen years of age, he attended a meeting in the old John Street Church, and heard, for the first time, a Methodist preacher. "He so explained and enforced the word of God," he says, "as to convince me that I had no religion." He sought it earnestly, and when about twenty-one years old, he "found redemption in the blood of Christ, even the forgiveness of sins." He now felt an ardent desire for the salvation of others, and began to speak and pray in social meetings. He rode thirty miles to hear Benjamin Abbott, and while the old man sung the hymn, "Refining fire go through my soul," etc., "an awful trembling," says Hunt, "came upon me and all in the house; my bodily strength failed, and I felt agony for a clean heart." [8] He afterward attained this blessing. In the winter of 1790-1, "encouraged by that dear old man, Jacob Brush, presiding elder of the New York District," he went to Long Island Circuit, with William Phoebus. In May, 1791, he was admitted on trial in the New York Conference, and appointed to Fairfield Circuit, Connecticut, in company with Mills, "a man small in stature, intelligent, sound, an able preacher, and rather inclined to dejection." Fairfield Circuit included the whole of the county of that name, and some places in its vicinity. In 1792, he was appointed to Middletown Circuit. It included Middlesex and a great part of New Haven Counties. This year his presiding elder directed him to cross the Connecticut River, to "break up new ground." From East Hartford he passed to Enfield, Springfield, Wilbraham, etc., and thence into Windham County, preaching in Pomfret, Mansfield, and several of the adjacent towns, "generally," he remarks, "to good congregations; though at one appointment, whither I had been directed by Jesse Lee, I had no congregation, nor would the gentleman on whom I called suffer me to stay in his house. I had to ride several miles in the darkness of the night to a public house. A kind Providence witnessed my prayers and tears, and overruled this for good. The innkeeper invited me to stay and preach in his ballroom the next day. I did so; the congregation was so large that we adjourned to the meeting-house, where I preached with great liberty. In this tour I labored in many places not before visited by any Methodist. We did not wait to be invited, in those days, but sowed the seed of the kingdom wherever we could. As by our excellent economy my brethren soon succeeded me, good societies were formed in many places." At the Tolland Conference, Aug. 12, 1793, Bishop Asbury gave him deacon's orders, and appointed him again to Fairfield Circuit. There he found several of his spiritual children, and met with a cordial reception. At the Conference of 1794 he located on account of his prostrate health. On the 18th of January, 1800, he resumed the duties of an itinerant preacher. In June following, he received elder's orders, at the Conference in New York, and was appointed to Littlefield Circuit, then about two hundred miles in circumference. About this period he located his family on a small farm in Redding, Connecticut, and gave himself fully to the work of the ministry, though with great sacrifice of domestic comfort. At the Conference of 1801, he received a dispensation from regular work, for domestic considerations; hence, his name was retained on the Minutes without an appointment; still he labored extensively in different places during that year. In 1802 he was appointed to New London Circuit, which then extended from the Thames to the Connecticut River. "Here we had," he says, "some excellent, though small societies, especially in New London and Norwich, with whom and my highly esteemed colleague, Michael Coate, I enjoyed great satisfaction and many happy seasons." The next two years he labored on New Rochelle Circuit, New York, and during the following two in New York city. A remarkable revival of religion, such as had never been known before in that community, prevailed through these two years. In 1807 he returned to New England, and traveled Litchfield Circuit. He continued to itinerate some fifteen years longer, much of the time in New England, when he was returned as supernumerary, but still moved to and fro, preaching as he was able.

A singularly faultless character made his quiet old age a living ministry in the Church. When tottering with years he wrote, "I am approximating the completion of my fourscore years, and my interest in the prosperity of our Zion is not abated, nor do I regret the toils and privations of those early days. I only grieve that I have not done more and better for the interests of Christ's kingdom. The great atonement made for sin, and the consequent sanctifying influence of the Holy Spirit, are my only hope of future and eternal rest." [9]

At last, aged more than ninety years, the veteran lay down to die. "During his sickness," say the Minutes, "he frequently quoted the hymn, 'Jesus, lover of my soul,' and was often favored with seasons of great tenderness and rapture. He sweetly fell asleep in Jesus, April 25, 1858," in Sharon, Connecticut.

Joshua Taylor, who lingered, in Maine, till our own day, was born in Princeton, New Jersey, Feb. 5, 1768. A strictly moral education in his childhood, especially the example and instructions of a devoted mother, imparted to his mind an early bias toward religion. "I sometimes wished," he writes, "that my conscience would let me alone until I became older, and then I would turn and do better; at other times I feared I should go one step too far in the ways of sin, and lose my soul for ever, the thought of which was terrible. When I was between twenty and twenty-one years of age it pleased God to take from me my mother by death. The death of my father, which took place about three years before this, made no lasting impression on my mind; but now I wept and mourned, but so ignorant was I of the nature of religion, that, at first, I had no thought that any thing more was necessary than to reform my outward life — and accordingly I renounced whatever I thought to be sinful, and paid strict attention to religious meetings, reading the sacred Scriptures, and also attempted to pray in secret. In so doing I was brought, after a few weeks, to feel the need of an inward, as well as an outward, renovation. Now trouble and distress rolled in upon me. I strove to pray for mercy, and at times hoped that I should obtain it, but at other times was almost in despair. In this situation I continued about four months, during which time the devil took every advantage of me, and poured in his fiery darts like a flood; he assailed me with strong temptations to atheism, deism, and fatalism, and with these ideas almost overpowered me. These agitations were of frequent and long continuance. But still my heart remained hard; it seemed as if my convictions were all leaving me, and I should be left to my own destruction. I mourned because I could not mourn aright, and nothing afforded me any encouragement. [10]

In February, 1789, on a Saturday evening, he attended a Methodist prayer-meeting at a private house. "I felt," he says, "that I only grew worse, and must perish in my present condition. The meeting closed, and my heart remained hard. Part of the people withdrew; but a few remained, and I with them. Before leaving the house, some one proposed to have prayer again, and while the company were singing, light broke into my mind. I had such a discovery of the beauty and excellence of the Saviour's character, that I felt to admire and adore, and, glory be to his name, I felt that he did have mercy upon me. All his attributes appeared lovely to my soul, and I sunk down into calmness and resignation to his will, so that I went home rejoicing and praising God, and in this sweet frame closed my eyes for sleep. I loved my Saviour, I loved his children, and rejoiced with joy unspeakable and full of glory."

Some months later he was induced to exhort in public, and soon the way was opened before him for more important labors. He joined the itinerant ranks in 1791. The next year he entered New England, and labored on Fairfield Circuit. "I recollect," he writes, "that some of our rides were long and tedious in the winter. But we found kind friends, and in the course of the year had a blessed revival of religion; many were awakened, and a goodly number were converted to the Lord. One instance, which I recorded in my memorandum, I will here state. A Mr. S., living in Stepney, was friendly to the Methodists until his wife joined our society, but after that he became so enraged that he took an oath he would disown her if she ever went into a class-meeting again. When I came round again, they were both at meeting. After preaching, I requested the class to stop, as usual; she stopped, but when he perceived it he came into the room, and taking of her arm, pulled her out. This act excited much feeling among us; they were not forgotten in our prayers; and as they were going home, the Lord smote him with such keen conviction that he groaned with anguish. The next time when I came round I preached at his house, and found him under deep conviction, but strongly tempted to put his horrid oath into execution; and yet he seemed sensible that it would terminate in the ruin of his soul. I reasoned a long time with him, and left him in the hands of the Lord. When I came round again he professed to have found peace with God, and, after making a very humble confession for what he had said against his wife and us, he joined our society himself. A blessed time of rejoicing was experienced both in his family and in the little Church."

During the following four years he traveled successively Middletown, Conn., Granville, Mass., Trenton, N. J., and (the second time) Middletown Circuits. In 1797, when the appointments in Maine, which had increased to six circuits, were organized into a district, he was appointed presiding elder over them, and will ever hold a prominent place in the annals of the Church in that state as the first officer of the kind who exclusively pertained to it. He continued sole presiding elder in Maine, during four years, with such men as Timothy Merritt, Nicholas Snethen, Enoch Mudge, Peter Jane, Joshua Soule, John Broadhead, Daniel Webb, and Epaphras Kibby, under him. Though that was "the day of small things," it was one of great men, in Maine, as we shall hereafter see. From Maine he passed to Boston District, where he continued two years; here again he commanded a corps of the "giants of those days;" among them were Joshua Wells, Joshua Soule, George Pickering, Dr. Thomas F. Sargent, Dr. Thomas Lyell, etc. In 1808 he was reappointed to the Maine District, then comprehending eleven Circuits — the whole extent of Methodism in the state. The following two years he was stationed at Portland, and in 1806, after fifteen years of indefatigable travels and toils, located following the almost universal example, perhaps we may say necessity, of married preachers in those days of "much work and little pay." He will reappear in our pages at future dates. An old fellow-laborer wrote of him: "He was small in stature, and of a clear, methodical, and orderly mind. His labors were extensive and useful. He filled many important appointments in towns, circuits, and districts. He faithfully propagated, and carefully guarded, primitive Methodism through evil and good report. He might have had his choice of many places to settle in, could he have been prevailed upon to take charge of a parish. He was a most delightful companion. The man that did not grow better by the company of Joshua Taylor, must have neglected a rare privilege. I never knew malice to touch his character. I dare not indulge my feelings or expressions — he is yet alive. In the closet, in the grove, by the roadside, and in public, I have witnessed his devotions." [11]

Another well-known name occurs in this list of veterans, that of Daniel Ostrander. His prominence, for many years, in the New York Conference — where he continued until our day, a representative of the earlier times — has identified him in the public mind with that body, and but few of the present generation of Eastern Methodists know anything of his intimate connection with their early history. Daniel Ostrander was, nevertheless, one of the founders of Methodism in New England. He commenced his ministry within its limits, and spent the first thirteen years of it (save one) in sharing the trials and struggles of Lee, Roberts, Pickering, Mudge, Taylor, and their associates; laboring mightily in western Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode Island, and as far east as Boston. He was born, August 9, 1772, at Plattekill, Ulster County, N. Y. His ancestors were Hollanders, and his whole career was an exemplification of the old Teutonic vigor. Upon no other class of population did Methodism exert a more profound effect, and from none did it produce more indomitable laborers.

Daniel Ostrander was converted in his sixteenth year, and from that date devoted his life wholly to God. He entered upon his ministerial travels in 1793, as colleague of Lemuel Smith, on Litchfield Circuit. In 1794 he traveled, with Menzies Rainor, the Middletown Circuit. The three following years he was successively on Pomfret, Conn., Warren, R. I., and Boston and Needham Circuits. In 1798 he returned to Pomfret, as colleague of Asa Heath. The three succeeding years his appointments were Tolland, Pomfret, and New York city. He next took charge, for two years, of the New London District, which comprehended during a part of that time the entire field of Methodism in Connecticut, (except one circuit,) most of Rhode Island, and a portion of Massachusetts. On retiring from this district he entered Duchess Circuit, N.Y., where he continued two years.

From 1808 to 1827 he labored in Brooklyn; Albany city, two years; on Hudson River District, four years; New Rochelle; Ashgrove District, and Hudson River District, four years each. In 1827 he re-entered New England, and superintended the New Haven District. The next year he presided over the New York District, which extended into the southwestern section of Connecticut. He continued in this responsible charge four years, at the expiration of which time he was appointed to New York city, where he labored two years. The following two years he was at New Rochelle, and in 1836 became, for four years more, presiding elder of the New York District. In 1840 he took charge of the Newburgh District, where he continued till 1843, when he retired into the ranks of the superannuated, which then included, in the New York Conference, a goodly company of veterans, his companions in the early struggles of Methodism in the east — Hibbard, Woolsey, Crawford, Pease, Hunt, Eben Smith, Washburn, and others.

"From the year 1793 to the year 1843," say his brethren of the New York Conference, "a full term of fifty years, so remarkably did the Lord preserve him, that only three Sabbaths in all that time was he disabled from pulpit service by sickness. Where, in the history of ministers, shall we find a parallel to this? For fourteen years he was on circuits, eight years in stations, (New York, Brooklyn, and Albany,) and twenty-eight years in the weighty and responsible office of presiding elder. The districts of New London, New Haven, Saratoga, Hudson River, New York, and Newburgh, remember him with affection. His high standing in the esteem of his brethren in Conference appears from the fact, that since the establishment of the delegated General Conference in 1808, they always elected him a member of that highest judicatory in our Church, down to the year 1840, inclusive; and never has his seat an Annual Conference been vacant, during the forty-eight years that the writer of this article has known him, till called to his reward. The same is thought to have been the case from the time of his admission as a member of this body. His firm integrity, sound judgment, and solid piety won the confidence of his brethren. He identified himself with all the interests of the Church, as a faithful and wise steward. Always at his post, and prompt to serve, whether on a circuit, in a station, in quarterly meetings, in annual or General Conferences, and on all suitable occasions, his clear voice, his manly eloquence, his decision of mind, his sound arguments and manly zeal, all showed that he preferred Jerusalem above his chief joy; yet it was in the pulpit that his pre-eminence shone the brightest — so warm in delivery, sound in doctrine, clear in preaching, pungent in warning, heavenly in comforting, and gracious in encouraging, that hard must have been the heart in his audience that could sit unmoved, or go away unprofited, for a divine unction gave power to the word. Yes, we have heard him preach, with the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven, till the shouts of saints and the cries of penitents mingled, completely drowned the highest strains of his stentorian voice. Such was Daniel Ostrander. Firmly, faithfully, and wisely did he hold on to the plow, nor look back till he was called to his heavenly rest. He was well schooled at an early day; for the first nine years of his itinerant life were spent, principally, among the sharp-eyed opponents of Methodism in New England, where the battles of controversy called into action all the heavenly armor so essentially. necessary as a panoply of a Methodist preacher. There, in all his conflicts, he proved himself a workman that needed not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth. It was there, too, that He, who gave Adam his Eve, gave our dear brother his excellent Mary Bowen, who had, in 1793, in the bloom of her youth, believed in Jesus and embraced Methodism perseveringly, in defiance of all the persecution which her choice of this people involved her in, till shielded by the protection of so worthy a husband of such an excellent wife. Daniel and Mary Ostrander were lovely in their lives, and in their death (almost) not divided; for, in January, 1844, five weeks from the death of her husband, she triumphantly left the world and joined him in glory."

In the New York Conference of 1843 he appeared for the last time among his ministerial brethren. His fifty years' effective work was done. He preached, occasionally, on Sabbaths, until his final sickness; and on the 29th of August, 1848, at a camp-meeting near Newburgh, delivered his last sermon, from Psalm cxlvi, 8: The Lord openeth the eyes of the blind,' etc. It is said to have been an able discourse, and one of his happiest efforts.

Through the whole of the summer he seemed to be ripening for heaven, and soon after this last message his health failed. When asked if Christ was still precious, with his last and utmost effort he cried, 'Yes!' and peacefully fell asleep in Jesus. So lived, so labored, and so died Daniel Ostrander, literally worn out in the best cause — his life, from sixteen years of age to seventy-two, a living sacrifice to God. Thousands will rise up in the last day and call him blessed.

Zadok Priest was a youthful martyr to the extreme labors of these times of struggle and victory. A few still linger about the regions of the old circuits of New London and Warren, in whose hearts the preciousness of his memory remains unabated by the changes of the more than half century which has passed over his grave. He was a native of Connecticut, and commenced his ministry in the year 1793 on the Pittsfield Circuit. The next year he traveled the New London Circuit with Wilson Lee, David Abbott, and Enoch Mudge. In 1795 he labored on Warren Circuit, where he was attacked with hemorrhage of the lungs, which terminated in consumption. He returned from his work to die. There resided at that time, and for many subsequent years, at Norton, Massachusetts, a venerable Methodist, known as "Father Newcomb," whose house was ever open as an asylum for the itinerants. Thither Zadok Priest went — "to die with them," as he said when the door was opened to receive him. He was confined there three weeks, and then passed down into the valley and shadow of death, expressing "a strong confidence in the favor of God, and no doubt of his salvation." [12] He died on the 22d of June, 1796, in the twenty-seventh year of his age, and was buried on the estate of Mr. Newcomb. He was generally beloved, and a Christian brother now rests by his side, who esteemed him so highly in life as to request that he might sleep with him in death.

One of our best authorities in Methodist history says, after a pilgrimage to his grave, that the Warren Circuit, which had been recently formed, was a six weeks' one, and then included all the state of Rhode Island east of Narraganset and the Blackstone, and all the county of Bristol, in Massachusetts, south of Taunton River, and even extended as far east as Bridgewater, in Plymouth County, embracing what is now the greater part of the Providence District, and a portion of the Sandwich District, and containing about twenty appointments. The church in Warren, which had been built the previous year, and was the first in the state of Rhode Island, was the only one on this great circuit. During this year, probably through the severe labors and exposure then usually connected with the itinerant life, Priest contracted the disease under which he went home to die. But his father, who was opposed to him as a Methodist preacher, in a spirit which was somewhat characteristic of the times, refused him the shelter of his roof in his last extremity. With a sad heart the weary and dying itinerant turned away from the home and friends of his childhood, and returned to his flock on the Warren Circuit. "On one of the first days of June, 1796, just after the surrounding forests had put forth their leaves of green, the youthful preacher, in the very last stage of his fatal disorder, bent his weary and faltering steps to the house of 'Father Newcomb,' the hospitable doors of which were opened wide to receive the homeless stranger, as the representative of a Master who once 'had not where to lay his head.' There, in the midst of the quietude and kind attention of this rural Christian home, after lingering but three weeks, he died in holy triumph, but twenty-six years of age — the first Methodist preacher who ascended from New England. The rustic Christian neighbors, whose hearts had been stirred by his eloquence, with tears and affectionate sympathies, bore him to his last resting-place on Father Newcomb's farm. The event occasioned a great sensation among his fellow-laborers and the infant societies in New England. His obituary may be seen in the Minutes for 1796; and Lee, who was his presiding elder at this time, also handsomely notices him in his History of Methodism. But after the decease of Father Newcomb, which occurred in 1829, and the removal of preaching from his house, and the departure of nearly all the men of his time, Zadok Priest has been mostly forgotten." [12]

The visitor found the house of Newcomb "in one of the most retired neighborhoods of New England," a large two story dwelling, "which had been a first-class rural mansion of the Revolutionary period, but is now nearly in ruins. Its spacious old kitchen, which before Father Newcomb's conversion, after the custom of the times, was used as a dancing-hall, but afterward was made to resound with the voices of Lee, Pickering, Ostrander, and the mighty men of the times, is now reduced to half its former dimensions, and looks desolate indeed. The room from which Priest took his flight to his mansion of eternal rest is on the lower floor, and opens from the kitchen on the right, and looks out upon the south and west, from which it catches the lingering rays of the setting sun." He found the grave, "a little north of the house on another road, bearing a humble inscription recording the itinerant's death, and testifying that 'he being dead, yet speaketh.'" His hospitable friends sleep around him. "United in life, they are not separated in death." It was the pious intention of "Father Newcomb" that a church should be built on the lot on which Zadok Priest is buried, and between whose grave and the road space was left for that purpose.

Joshua Hall's labors as a Methodist preacher were extensive and exceedingly varied. His itinerant ministry was limited to about ten years, but during that time he preached in most of the New England States, and formed some of the most important societies. He was born in Lewistown, Sussex County, Del., October 22, 1768, and "experienced religion in Kent County, near Milford, in February, 1787." [14] In November, 1791, he was sent by Asbury to the North, and passed to Elizabethtown Circuit, N. J., where he traveled the remainder of the year. In 1792 he was admitted on probation by the Conference at New York, and appointed to Croton Circuit, N. Y. [15] The next year he entered New England and became the colleague of Pickering, on Hartford Circuit. "Here," he says, "we labored part of the year and formed New London Circuit." In 1794 he was appointed to "Vermont," but did not travel there. "Jesse Lee," he writes, "had made a tour through Fitchburgh, Ashburnham, Rindge, Selby, Marlborough, Parkersfield, Dublin, Chesterfield, Orange, Hardwick, and Athol, and I had to go and supply a long series of appointments, to which he pledged that a preacher should be sent after the conference. George Cannon, who was expected, did not come, and I felt it my duty to remain till the next conference, which sat at New London.

In 1795, by a long transition, he passed to Penobscot Circuit, Me., which had recently been surveyed by Lee. He was the third Methodist preacher sent to that state, and the first who traveled after Lee on the Penobscot. "I met with much opposition there," he says, but a gracious reformation cheered him in this distant and difficult field. He formed the first societies which were organized along that river. "God," he remarks, "wonderfully blessed my feeble labors, and when I left I had occasion to exclaim, What hath He wrought!" Before the next Conference he labored about three months at Readfield, visited Portland, and preached there a short time, in company with Stephen Hull, and thence passed on to the Conference at Thompson, Conn. Several years had now elapsed since he had visited his home, and he longed to return to its affections and more genial climate. But those were times for great sacrifices as well as great labors; Asbury pointed him to the field white unto the harvest, and reminded him of the fewness of the laborers. Hall decided to tarry. "I have never," he wrote, some years before his death, "seen one of my relations since 1792, and never shall till I meet them in the eternal world; for I am now in my seventy-ninth year, my energies are paralyzed; all my faculties, especially my memory, fail fast. I have, you perceive, a trembling hand; it is difficult for me to write." Instead of returning South he was appointed, with his former colleague, Pickering, to Boston and Needham. Thence he went to Sandwich, on Cape Cod; there his labors were attended with great success; an extensive reformation took place, and seventy persons were gathered in the society. "Blessed be the Lord, O my soul!" exclaims the veteran on recalling those times, "this was the Lord's work, and the beginning of Methodism in that place." In 1797 he was appointed to Martha's Vineyard, and was instrumental in planting the Church on that island. The next year Asbury requested him to throw himself into the city of Providence, provide as he could for his support, and, "by the blessing of God, raise up a society." He went thither, opened a school for his subsistence, preached and labored among the people, and formed a class, the beginning of Methodism in that city.

In 1799 he was appointed to Warren and Greenwich Circuit, as colleague with Ezekiel Canfield and Truman Bishop. In 1800 his appointment was "Rhode Island." He visited Newport, "preached four times by daylight, and had a meeting again in the evening. "This," he says, "was the hardest day's work I ever performed, but it was delightful." He had the honor of forming the first Methodist Society of Newport. Moving to and fro with the usual rapidity of the itinerants of that day, he soon reached New Bedford and introduced Methodism there. "John Gibson," he writes, "came to help me while we raised and unfurled the evangelical standard; though smitten down for a time it still waves there, bless the name of the Lord! May it always wave there till time shall be no more!"

In the Minutes of the next year he is returned on the located list. He visited Maine, however, and labored with Joseph Baker at Camden one year, during which he preached also at Thomaston, Union, Lincoln, Hope, and Northport. "We had," he writes, "Daniel Rickow to assist us, and a good revival of religion spread throughout the circuit." In 1802 he returned to Ponobscot River and chose a resting-place at Frankfort Mills, the home of his old age. During his itinerant life he did good battle for the faith; he commenced many important societies from the Penobscot to Long Island Sound. After his location he continued to labor as his health would admit, and sustained public responsibilities in the State. In 1830 he was placed on the supernumerary list of the Maine Conference, and afterward transferred to the list of the superannuated. He concludes a brief narrative of his life with the joyful exclamation, "I have almost finished my journey, and heaven is my future home. Glory be to God, my Saviour, for ever and ever, Amen!"

He lived to see his Church prosperous and prevalent throughout Maine and throughout the nation, and died, sending a message to his Conference, saying, "Tell the brethren I go in holy triumph. There is no darkness on the path." They commemorate him in their Minutes: "Joshua Hall," they say, "after walking with God seventy-seven years and preaching the Gospel of the kingdom seventy-five, died in holy triumph, at Frankfort, Me., December 25, 1862, in the ninety-fifth year of his age. He possessed much native shrewdness, quick perception, and a remarkable command of language. He acquired in early life a fair English education, as a preacher was always interesting, retaining his mental vigor wonderfully almost to the end of his protracted life, and was a genial, cheerful, loving Christian gentleman, whom everybody loved."

In some of the foregoing personal sketches I have, necessarily, had to anticipate events of much later date, especially in respect to Maine. Methodism had not yet reached that province. It was assigned as an appointment to Lee himself in the year 1793. It then, and for more than a quarter of a century afterward, pertained to Massachusetts, and its settlements were sparse, and mostly on the seaboard or principal rivers. Most of the interior regions were but occasionally favored with ordinances of religion. Lee himself refers to it as "an unimproved country," and speaks of the "thinly settled" places, "where the people could seldom hear a sermon of any kind." "At that time," He adds, "there were very few settled ministers in the province, except in the old parts near the sea-shore." Such was precisely the field for a man of his spirit. He longed to sound the trump of the gospel through the primeval forests and along the great rivers of that now noble state; and though he knew no one there to welcome him on his arrival, nor any one elsewhere to give him "a particular account of the place and people," yet, as "it was commonly understood that they were in want of preaching," he took his horse and saddlebags, and directed his course toward it, not knowing what should befall him.

He left Lynn on Thursday, September 5, and on Saturday was at Portsmouth. His former visits had procured him some steadfast friends, who greeted his return; they endeavored to obtain the Court-house for him to preach in, but it was refused. The next day (Sabbath) he walked to it, with a few friends, but, the authorities still denied him the privilege of using it. They knew not the spirit of the man, however, and only secured him a better hearing by their discourtesy. He coolly ascended to the "step of the door of the Court-house and began." When he commenced he had but about twelve hearers, but they soon began to flock together, and swelled to some hundreds before he concluded. They crowded into several adjacent streets, and listened with solemnity and manifest emotion, while he declared to them, with "much freedom," the acceptable year of the Lord.

The next day he was "off early," crossed the river, and entered the "Province." His biographer has preserved but brief notices of this first excursion to Maine; it was, however, but a visit of observation; his subsequent labors in that new region are more fully detailed, and will afford us some interest in their due place. "He continued," says his Memoirs; "in these settlements, traveling to and fro and preaching, with good hopes that his labor would be blessed of the Lord, until the latter part of October, at which time he returned to Lynn. In January, 1794, he repeated his visit to the settlements on the Kennebec and Penobscot Rivers, and enlarged his borders by preaching in many new places. His difficulties were many, but God gave him strength to bear all with becoming patience and resolution. He succeeded in forming a Circuit in the Province which, by the way, is all that can be said of it, for we are not assured that there was a single society of Methodists within its whole bounds."

There was, in fact, no society formed within its limits, or within the entire province, until after the ensuing Conference. The first class in Maine was organized at Monmouth about the first of November, 1794. Lee has given us, in his History of the Methodists, a brief sketch of this second tour. "I traveled," he says, "through a greater part of that country from September to the end of the year. I went as far as Castine, at the mouth of the Penobscot River; up the river to the upper settlements, which were then just below the Indian settlement called Old Town; thence I returned by the way of the Twenty-five mile Pond to Kennebec River; thence up the Sandy River, and back to Hallowell, and thence through to Portland."

By tracing his route on the map it will be perceived that he surveyed quite thoroughly most of what was then the occupied portion of the province, namely, the region of the coast from Portsmouth to Castine, and the interior, between the Kennebec and Penobscot, as far up, and even farther, than what has since become the site of Bangor on the latter, and Waterville on the former. "Although," He continues, "I was a perfect stranger to the people, and had to make my own appointments, I preached almost every day, and to crowded assemblies. After viewing the country, I thought the most proper place to form a circuit was on the Kennebec River. It was accordingly formed, and called Readfield. This was the name of the first circuit formed by the Methodists in that part of the country. It was about two hundred miles from any other which we had in New England. It extended from Hallowell to Sandy River." "It will, no doubt," He adds, "afford some satisfaction to the people to know the exact time when the Methodists first preached among them on that circuit, and in the neighboring towns. On the 13th of October, 1793, the first Methodist sermon was preached in Hallowell; on the 15th, in Farmington; on the 17th, in New Sharon; on the 18th, in Mount Vernon; the 19th, Readfield; the 21st, Winthrop; the 22d, Monmouth."

These were all the towns comprised in the Readfield Circuit in 1793. Others were added, however, in the beginning of 1794.

While Lee was thus preparing the way in the wilderness, his colleagues, in other parts of New England, were assiduously cultivating and extending their respective fields of labor. Their success had already begun to appear ominous to the settled clergy of the time. Hitherto they had been considered either fanatical intruders, whose ardor would soon abate, or "a set of broken merchants," who had come up from the South, and, being poor, and too indolent to work, had betaken themselves to preaching, as the best mode of spunging from the devout people of New England the means of subsistence, but who would soon find it convenient to go elsewhere. [16] It was now becoming quite manifest, however, that they were in earnest, and were entrenching themselves in all the land. Demonstrations of hostility were therefore made in many directions. The pulpits denounced them as "wolves in sheep's clothing," the "false prophets who should come in the latter day," or "itinerant peddlers of false doctrine." Though formally authorized and ordained by a Church which had spread through most of the states, they were not recognized by the magistrates of New England, especially in Connecticut, as regular clergymen, and Roberts was prosecuted and fined for consecrating the marriage of a couple of his people. Several laymen, whose consciences were too scrupulous or obstinate for the laws which required them to support what they deemed a dead and heretical ministry, were thrust into prison, or despoiled of their property. Popular violence sometimes disturbed their solemn assemblies.

The people of New England were then, even more than at present, addicted to speculative disputation on theological subjects. The doctrines of the new sect were thoroughly canvassed, and as thoroughly caricatured in the pulpit; in the vestry, at the village inn, and at the fireside. Both its preachers and its people were incessantly harassed with assaults about "principles." The former had to contend with additional vexations respecting their "education," and "notes" in the pulpit. Their unquestionable and effective eloquence was a sufficient vindication of them in the latter respect, their tact, and sometimes their wit, in the former. The preacher, deacon, and lawyer generally formed, in those days, a trio of leadership in the village society of New England. The former usually assailed the new comers with distant dignity from the pulpit, the deacon pursued them with rigorous questions of orthodoxy to their meetings and social circles, and the lawyer, strictly conforming then, as now, to the strongest local influence, followed, to ply with his logic, the deacon's metaphysics. The former two Lee generally rebutted by apt quotations of the Scriptures; with the latter he felt himself at liberty, from the impression he had of their less commendable motives, to use the weapon of his native and cutting satire. Oftentimes did he turn upon them the ridicule of large companies of bystanders, and compel them to shrink back abashed at the unexpected reaction of their own impertinence.

Thomas Ware, a man whose memory is revered by all who knew him, was this year, as we have seen, on a district which comprehended several New England appointments. He refers to the species of trials I have described as frequent in the Eastern States at that time. "It was common," he remarks, "for the Methodist preachers, when they preached in new places, and often in their regular appointments; to be attacked by some disputant on the subject of doctrines, sometimes by ministers, but more frequently by students in divinity or loquacious and controversial laymen. And so far as my experience on this district extended, I discovered much rancor and bitterness mingled with these disputes. I am obliged to say that, during the three years of my labors in this section, I found not so much as one friendly clergyman. There may have been such; but all with whom I conversed, or whose sentiments I knew, were violent in their opposition to us; and the rough manner in which I was usually treated by them, rendered me unwilling to come in contact with them. But when it so happened that we must try our strength, I found no difficulty in defending the cause I had espoused, for a foe despised has a great advantage. And when a man has a system which is clearly scriptural, he needs only a little plain common sense and self-possession to maintain his ground, though a host of learned theologians should unite against him. In Granville and Pittsfield the current of opposition was very strong against us." Hope Hull had labored in this region under Ware, and evidently understood the best way of managing these troubles. Ware says, "I knew and almost envied him his talents. I thought, indeed, if I possessed his qualifications I could be instrumental in saving thousands where, with my own, I could gain one." This extraordinary young man drew multitudes after him, who, disarmed of their prejudices, were, under the influence of his discourses, like clay in the hand of the potter. It seemed that he could do with them just as he pleased. And yet, in the midst of this astonishing influence and career of usefulness, he sighed for a southern clime, and at his own request he was permitted to retire to another portion of the field. Perhaps it was best, lest, if he had remained, he might have been idolized by the devoted people among whom he labored, to his own injury and theirs. A man of some distinction represented him as a skillful musician, who could excite any passion he pleased. "In our parts," said he, "Arminians were deemed guilty of abominable heresy, and our minister had often denounced them and consigned them to certain perdition; but Hull came to a neighboring town, an influential individual invited him to ours, and informed our minister that, if he refused him the meeting-house, he should preach in his own house. The meeting-house was opened, and it was crowded to overflowing. Our minister was present, and was the first who began to weep. My eyes were alternately on the minister in the pulpit and the one in the pew, and I was surprised to see how soon and how completely the latter was unmanned. Hull, it is true, soon left us; but by his unequaled power to move the feelings of the people, he so far secured their attention as to commend to their understanding and hearts the Gospel he preached, and Arminians have since been permitted to live among us. From that time to the day of his death our minister was never heard to say a word against them."

It was in the period under review that the Rev. Mr. Williams, of Tolland, who had become alarmed at the rapid spread of the Methodists around him, published a sermon against them, fully exemplifying the hostile spirit with which they were then treated. It was the first attack made upon them from the press, and was considered by the infant Church a serious event in their yet uncertain history. To us it is interesting, at least as an indication of the times, and the first in a series of assaults from pamphleteers, which have been most useful provocatives of success. It was delivered to his people with a degree of emphasis quite unusual in his preaching, and produced a profound sensation among them. [17] The discourse was accompanied in print by a letter from Dr. Huntington, of Coventry; both documents were most unscrupulous in their charges, and uncharitable in their spirit. The laborious zeal and self-sacrificing devotion of the new preachers were construed into, hypocrisy. "There may be little sincerity," said Williams, "where there is a great share of zeal. When a new sect has arisen in the Christian Church, the leaders, especially, have made high pretensions to eminent piety and love for precious souls. The Christians in the Church of Corinth and Achaia were practiced upon by the same sort of teachers. St. Paul says they are false apostles, deceitful, worthless, transforming themselves into the apostles of Christ. And no marvel, for Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light. Therefore it is no great thing if his ministers, also, be transformed into the ministers of righteousness, corrupt teachers, beguiling unstable souls, creeping into houses, and leading captive silly women, laden with sins, and led away with divers lusts," etc. [18]

Such are some of the ungenerous allusions of Williams to the disinterested men of the first New England Methodist ministry. He stoutly denounces the pretension of a divine call to the ministry, considers it a "tempting of heaven to give" the pretender "up to delusion," and further remarks, "These are no new things; multitudes have come forth as preachers on this ground, within a number of years past, in these New England Churches, whom you believe were deceived themselves, or aimed to deceive others."

Dr. Huntington's appended letter is equally severe. "The modern Methodist teachers," he asserts, "are men of Machiavellian [Oxford Dict. Machiavellian adj. elaborately cunning; scheming, unscrupulous. — DVM] principles, and do, without any samples, make use of truth and deceit promiscuously, as they judge will most promote the interest of their party." He speaks of their "heretical doctrines," and of Wesley as "a flaming enthusiast," given to "wild singularities," among which he enumerates the "institution of classes and class-meetings."

These are but specimens of the first printed attack on the New England Methodists. It was considered appropriate to the humble and deprecatory devotions of the Fast Day, and was published "with the unanimous approbation of the Association, and a their cordial request." [19]

Some apprehensions spread among the "little flock" at the appearance of this deliberate and formal opposition. They were soon allayed, however. Roberts, presiding elder that year of the district which included Tolland, entered the lists against the two pugnacious divines, with such ability and satirical power, as turned the current of public opinion, to a considerable extent, against them, and effectually disposed them to abandon the controversy. [20] Roberts had an important advantage over the assailants in the tendencies of the popular mind at that time against the compulsory support of the Church by taxation. Being thoroughly republican himself, and a hearty lover of the institutions of his country, he spoke out indignantly on the subject. [21]

I have referred to this polemical rencounter as an illustration of the age. It was unfortunately conducted on both sides. Roberts was scathingly severe in some of his passages. The Congregational combatants, while they could not approach him in satirical force, were even more severe with their stultified [Oxford Dict. stultify v.tr. (-ies, -ied) make ineffective, useless, or futile, esp. as a result of tedious routine (stultifying boredom); cause to appear foolish or absurd; negate or neutralize. — DVM] abuse. Much must be pardoned to both parties, in consideration of the times. Williams yielded, it may be charitably supposed, to a temporary feeling, not in harmony with his habitual disposition. At their first arrival, the Methodist preachers were hospitably received at his house and admitted to his pulpit. "He received them very cordially, and treated them kindly, until there began to be a reformation, and classes were formed; then an alarm was raised — the preachers were afterward treated by him with indifference and inattention, and finally with such neglect that they ceased to visit him and then appeared his sermon. He was never known to be so much affected in any discourse he had delivered, or to produce so much apparent feeling among his Church." [22] Time and better information relieved his fears, however, and it is affecting to learn that "before he died he welcomed his Methodist brethren to hold prayer-meetings in his own house." He passed into the grave, grateful for the prayers and Christian regards of those whom he once, honestly, no doubt, opposed as dangerous heretics.

The assailed itinerants had a better and more effectual mode of repelling attacks; their devoted lives and untiring labors for the salvation of the people stopped the mouths and confounded the hostility of their opponents. They moved through all the region of the "Association" which "cordially requested" the publication and aided the circulation of this pamphlet, spreading piety in their course, and raising up in the persons of many who were before considered "reprobates," "living epistles" of their ministry, which were read of all men. "It is very pleasing to me now," says my Methodist authority who lived in Tolland in that day of trial, "to reflect on those times, the beginning of illumination to my darkened mind. I had, before that, supposed that there was such a thing as religion, and that it was indispensable for the aged and dying, but I had no idea of its real excellence, until I saw it exemplified in the spirit and lives of the Methodist preachers. My father's house was a home for them; there they met and consulted together when they had a day of leisure, while on the circuit, though such a day did not occur more than once in two weeks, and often not more than once a month. Those were times when they preached, at least, once a day, besides riding many miles. Tolland was about the center of the circuit. The chapel was built on my father's land, perhaps twenty rods from our dwelling. Two of my brothers, a sister, and, I think, my mother, all became members of the Church in those troubled days. Among the preachers whom I recollect, were Lee, Rainor, Smith, Roberts, Pickering, Mudge, Hall, Mills, Brush, Hope Hull, Swain, etc. Amid all the opposition Methodism flourished, and for ten years after, with a short interruption, I think, much more than in this day, notwithstanding all later improvements. I like to look back on those times, and I expect to rejoice for ever that it was my lot to become acquainted with Methodism in early life. I consider it the chief instrument in the hands of God of my salvation, and the most happy seasons of my life; and I hope one day to join those who have gone before me in celebrating the praises of my Redeemer "forever." [23]

Thus the ecclesiastical year of 1793-94 had nearly passed in labors, trials, and triumphs; meanwhile, as the period for the next Conference approached, the chief apostle of American Methodism, after having traversed the continent, reentered New England. He was still feeble with disease, and wearied with unremitted labors; but he pressed on as before, journeying and preaching daily.

He passed into Connecticut on Thursday, July 10, 1794. On Saturday the 19th he reached Waltham, where he tarried over the Sabbath, amid warm hearts and hospitable attentions in the mansion of Bemis. On the same day he held a quarterly meeting. "At three o'clock," he writes, "I gave them a discourse on 'the little flock,' to comfort the affrighted sheep. Sabbath-. day we had love-feast at eight o'clock, sermon at half past ten, and again in the afternoon: there was some life in the love-feast, and sacrament also."

On Monday he entered Boston, "unwell in body, and with a heavy heart." The times had changed somewhat in the city since his previous visit. A home could now be found by the tired evangelist, and the little company of believers had found a place, however humble, for the ark of the Lord. "We have," he writes, "a very agreeable lodging in this town; but have to preach, as did our Lord, in an upper room. We had a prayer-meeting, and the Lord was present to bless us." He tarried in Boston two days. "Tuesday, 22d," he says, "I took up my cross and preached in a large room, which was full enough and warm enough. I stood over the street; the boys and Jack-tars [perhaps synonymous with jackanapes = a pert or insolent fellow. — DVM] made a noise, but mine was loudest; there was fire in the smoke; some, I think, felt the word, and we shall yet have a work in Boston. My talk was strange and true to some."

This "large room" was a "hired chamber in the house of John Ruddock, opposite Clark's shipyard, Ship Street, a building which, by its situation and tenants, received the name of 'The College.' The Society meetings were frequently surrounded with noises of every kind." [24] On Wednesday the bishop went to Lynn, where he conducted the business of the conference.

The ecclesiastical year closed in the latter part of July. It had been a time of adversity and declension to the general Church; severe trials had also afflicted the small itinerant band in New England. They were hedged in on every side by a decayed Church, whose chief remaining vigor consisted in its pertinacity for its antiquated polemics, and its intolerance toward dissenting sects. They had reached, too, a degree of advancement where, more than at any earlier period of their history, the sectarian jealousy of the established Churches became excited and alarmed; but they surmounted all impediments and made good progress. The circuits were extended on all sides; eighteen were reported at the next Conference, a gain of more than one fourth on the number of the preceding year. Lee had surveyed extensively the wilderness of Maine, and was now on his way to the Conference to solicit a laborer for that vast field, carrying with him a schedule of appointments, which, after personal inspection, he had definitively arranged into a circuit that extended along the Kennebec, quite into the interior of the province. New Hampshire and Vermont were also "stretching out their hand," and the itinerant corps resolved to extend its lines into those remoter regions at the approaching Conference. Thus the three remaining sections of New England were about to be permanently occupied by them.

While the aggregate membership of the Church had decreased during the year more than 2,000, chiefly by the O'Kelly schism, the local membership of New England had advanced from 1,739 to 2,039, a small addition when compared with the progress of later years, but large for those days of trial and struggle.

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ENDNOTES

1 Lee's History, p. 156

2 The first Methodist Church of Waltham (now the Weston Society) was formed in the house of Bemis, and his own name was first on its class paper. The first class consisted of eight members, six of whom bore the name of Bemis. One of them was Mary Bemis, who joined the society in her seventeenth year, and married Pickering two years afterward.

3 Asbury's Journals. The Minutes say the twelfth, but the time was often anticipated or delayed in those early days.

4 Letter of Joseph Howard to the writer.

5 My correspondent, last cited, was one of his sons; two other sons had to endure rather severely the force of the "principles" of those times for their attachment to Methodism. They were carried, together with Abel Bliss, Esq., of Wilbraham, to Northampton jail for resisting oppressive taxations for the support or the Congregational Church.

6 I have sketched this interesting character, as also most of the early New England itinerants, more fully in the "Memorials of Methodism in the Eastern States." 2 vols. 1848 and 1852.

7 Letter to the author.

8 MS. autobiography.

9 Letter to the Author.

10 Letter to the author.

11 Letter from Rev. E. Mudge to the author in 1846.

12 Minutes, i, p. 196

13 Rev. Dr. Cogeshall

14 Letter from him to the writer.

15 Ibid. His appointment this year is not mentioned in the Minutes.

16 Bangs' History, vol. i, book iii, chap ii.

17 Letter to the author from Joseph Howard, of Tolland, who was present at the time.

18 Cited in Dr. Roberts' "Strictures" on the Sermon.

19 Dr. Huntington's Letter.

20 Dr. Roberts' reply was entitled, "Strictures on a Sermon, delivered by Mr. Nathan Williams, A. M., in Tolland, on the Public Fast, April 17, 1793, with some observations on Dr. Huntington's Letter, annexed to said sermon, in a letter by George Roberts."

21 A Baptist had actually been lying in the prison at Tolland, about this time, for refusing to pay the "minister's rate" in a Church be could not approve. Roberts availed himself of the fact.

22 Howard's letter to the writer.

23 Howard's letter to the author.

24 MS. account of Methodism in Boston by Col. Binney. Col. Binney was an early, wealthy, and liberal member of the Church in Boston, and one of the chief founders of the Wilbraham Academy.

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