VOLUME 4 — BOOK V — CHAPTER XVIII
METHODISM IN THE EASTERN STATES, CONTINUED: 1796—1804

Asbury in the East — Success — Wilbraham Conference — Lorenzo Dow — Continued Success — Evangelical Adventures of Hibbard and Vannest — First Conference in Maine — Scenes there — Conference at Granville — State of the Church — William Beauchamp — Daniel Webb — Epaphras Kibby — Hardships in Maine — Conversion of General McClellan's Family — Joshua Soule — Results — Lorenzo Dow — Elijah Hedding's Services and Character — Methodism in New England in 1800 — The Bishops in the East — Lee's Farewell Tour — Itinerant Recruits — Thomas Branch's Death in the Wilderness — Martin Ruter and Laban Clark — Persecutions — Great Success

About September, 1797, Asbury, sick, and worn out with labors, was pursuing his way toward the East, to attend the New England Conference, which was to sit at Wilbraham on the 19th of that month; but on arriving at New Rochelle, N. Y., he was unable to go further. He was "swelling in the face, bowels, and feet," and only after two weeks could he place his foot on the ground. On September 12th, when he was able to walk but once or twice across the room, and he wrote a letter to Lee; instructing him to preside at the Wilbraham Conference, believing it would be impossible for himself to reach it. Though depressed with disease and exhaustion, his heart glowed with the idea of the great cause for which he labored. "Methodism," he exclaims in his letter, "is union all over: union in exchange of preachers; union in exchange of sentiments; union in exchange of interest: we must draw resources from the center to the circumference."

Notwithstanding the arrangement made with Lee, the tireless bishop was on his route for Wilbraham the day after the date of his letter, but was unable to proceed, and returned to his comfortable lodgings at New Rochelle, where he went to bed with a high fever. He was disabled for several weeks, and "distressed at the thought of a useless and idle life." "Lord help me," he exclaims, "for I am poor and needy; the hand of God hath touched me." Lee proceeded to take his place at the Conference.

The labors of the year had been successful; extensive revivals had occurred on several of the circuits. There was a gain of three circuits, though, owing to the fact that two (Greenwich and Marblehead) which had been distinct were now merged in neighboring appointments, the numerical gain is but one. The returns of members amounted to 3,000, lacking one, showing an increase of 480 — about one fourth of the gains of the whole Church for this year. Both the aggregate and the increase were doubtless larger, for there are no returns from Vermont, though an extensive circuit had been formed within that state, and one of the New York Circuits, also, reached into it and included several incipient societies. On the 19th of September, 1797, the New England Conference convened, a second time, in Wilbraham, Mass. Lee presided, and made the appointments for the ensuing year, in conformity with Asbury's request, and with the approbation of the preachers. I have been able to glean but few particulars respecting the session. "The business," says Lee, "was conducted to the satisfaction of the preachers, and peace and love dwelt among us." Some encouraging tidings were reported from the circuits. The evangelists from Maine had planned a new circuit; and extended considerably their former ones. They brought from Bath Circuit, which had been formed the preceding year, returns to the amount of thirty-one members. From Penobscot, where Enoch Mudge had labored, chiefly, (though appointed to Bath,) they reported the news of an extended revival, and an accession of thirty-seven souls. Jesse Stoneman brought word of a gain of nearly one hundred on Portland Circuit, and Brodhead reported from Readfield, his first appointment in New England, news of an ingathering of ninety-four converts. Philip Wager, who, after having traveled as the first regularly appointed Methodist preacher in Maine, had been sent alone the last year into New Hampshire, to travel the first circuit in that state, came back with the report of a gain of twenty-four, and of a prospect widening on all sides for the success of other laborers. The indefatigable Joseph Mitchell had good news, also, from Granville. Under his zealous labors the word had run and been glorified, and sixty-nine members had been added to the Church. Evan Rogers reported cheering tidings from Tolland. Opposition had raged, the pulpits of that region had fulminated against the new sect; but God owned them by powerful outpourings of his Spirit, and they had gained a net increase of seventy-three, Woolsey had also witnessed good results on Redding Circuit, where about fifty had been received. Joshua Hall had gone from Needham Circuit to Sandwich, on Cape Cod, and been the instrument of a widespread revival, and a new circuit was now reported in that section, with forty-seven members. These were signal results in the estimation of the hard-working evangelists of the time, and their hearts warmed within them at such evidences of their progress. They thanked God and took courage.

Asbury had sent to the Conference a communication, proposing the appointment of Lee and two others (Whatcoat and Poythress) as assistant bishops; the Conference, as we have noticed, declined the proposition as being incompatible with the requirements of the Discipline, [1] but at the close of the session they gave Lee a certificate signifying their wish that he would "travel with the bishop and fill his appointments when the latter could not be present." [2] The eccentric Lorenzo Dow was there, and repeated his application (declined at the Thompson Conference) for admission to the noble company of itinerants. Their growing success, ardent zeal, and vast labors, enlisted his indomitable spirit; he felt a heroic sympathy with their cause, but they still feared his aberrations, and rejected his request. Mitchell and Bostwick pleaded for him till they could plead no more, and sat down and wept. He was allowed to travel under the direction of the presiding elder, but was not enrolled with the band. He was a right-hearted, but wrong-headed man, labored like a Hercules, did some good, and had an energy of character which with sounder faculties would have rendered him as eminent as he was noted. Joshua Wells, who had been traveling with Asbury, was present during the session, and aided by his counsels in its deliberations. [3]

Five of the preachers located this year, broken down in health, or tired of the severities of an itinerant life, but able men, Shadrach Bostwick, Michael Coate, Peter Jayne, William Thacher, and others took their places.

Immediately after the Wilbraham Conference, Lee, agreeably to the vote of that body and the request of Asbury, hastened to New Rochelle, N.Y., where the bishop was awaiting him. Thence they journeyed southward, as we have seen, through all the Atlantic states as far as Georgia. He returned to New York, laboring night and day on the way, and on the 9th of July, 1798, left that city again for New England. On his route, Asbury and Joshua Wells overtook him. They tarried together over night, at New Rochelle, Asbury being still quite unwell. On the 13th they entered Connecticut. They pressed forward, holding meetings almost daily, through Rhode Island and Massachusetts into the heart of Maine. At Readfield they proposed to hold the first Conference in the province. The ecclesiastical year, 1797-8, had been the most prosperous one recorded thus far in the history of Eastern Methodism. Widespread revivals had prevailed, and the struggling cause had everywhere advanced, augmenting its membership by more than one third. The circuits were not much increased in number, but greatly extended, especially in Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine, the former of which, though it had hitherto yielded no returns, now reported a considerable membership. Many new societies had been organized in all the New England states, several chapels erected, and a large band of local preachers formed and brought into effective co-operation with the traveling ministry. The plans, which had hitherto been incipient, now began to develop their power and results. There was a growing consciousness of stability and vigor, in the new communion, of no small importance to its efficiency; and the doctrines of Methodism — so liberal and yet so vital — began to be more generally approved, except by those who were officially interested in the maintenance of the theology which had hitherto prevailed. The truth had advanced victoriously among the new settlements in the wilderness of the Penobscot. The people welcomed the joyful sound, and more than a hundred and fifty were received into the Church. The divine flame had also spread along the banks of the Kennebec, and many had been turned from darkness to light. Great multitudes had been awakened and converted on Cape Cod; and in Connecticut, especially, the excitement extended as fire in stubble; Middletown, New London, Tolland, Reading, and Litchfield Circuits had made rapid progress, not only in numbers, but in the provision of chapels.

Hibbard had been called out during the year from the local ministry, to assist the preachers on Pittsfield and Litchfield Circuits. He has left us an account of the revivals there, in which he says: "I think more than one hundred were awakened on these two circuits. Some joined the Presbyterians, and some the Baptists, and some the Methodists. The work of God in convicting, and converting, and sanctifying souls was very evident. Persecutions raged some on Litchfield Circuit, but the truth was in power; sometimes they fell as one shot down in battle, and would lay without strength from half an hour to two hours, when they would arise happy in God. Our Presbyterian brethren and others were afraid it was a delusion. But the revival of religion, having these extraordinary signs attending it, was highly necessary to confound dead formality. Some conversions were extraordinary. In one place I preached in a private house, where the man and his wife and one neighbor made all the congregation. The man and his wife professed religion, but their neighbor did not. However, before I came again in four weeks, that person was converted, and had reported around by what means this change was wrought; so that thereby many others came out, and I had about seventy to preach to, instead of three; and before long many could testify that God for Christ's sake had made that preaching, which some call foolishness, the happy power of salvation to their souls."

Peter Vannest arrived in New England this year. We have seen that on receiving his first appointment in the Middle States, in 1796, he evaded it. He says: "They gave me an appointment, yet I did not go out that year; but I suffered more affliction that year than I had for many years before. I did not know whether this was for disobedience or not, so I promised the Lord I would go if he would go with me. I went to Conference, and bishop Asbury said to me, 'I am going to send you to England; will you go?' I said, 'Yes, sir.' He said, 'I mean New England, and they are wise people there; it will be a good school for you. Last year I appointed you; now I will send you a great way from home, and you will not run away.' So I went on to Middletown Circuit, in Connecticut, in 1797." His record of his labors is full of incidents, characteristic of the man and the times.

Though his name is on the list of probationers for 1797, it is not affixed to the Middletown appointment. The omission was doubtless accidental. He labored with widespread success on that circuit, along with Peter Jayne. "We traveled together," he says, "like David and Jonathan. At that time the societies were few and small, but remarkably kind to the preachers. At the first appointment I attended on the circuit, two men came to dispute with me; I kept to the Bible for help; they soon got out of argument. I told them that some men's religion was in their heads and not in their hearts — cut their heads off and their religion was all gone. The people laughed at them and they went their way. They troubled me no more in that place. At that time we had but few chapels in New England; we preached in such places as we could get. At South Britain the society consisted of three members. I preached there in an underground kitchen. A young man came to the meeting with a pack of cards in his pocket, for company to go to a public house near by to play with; but the Lord smote him, sent him home to burn his cards, and spend part of the night in prayer to God to have mercy on his soul. He sought the Lord with all his heart, and soon after found peace. He lived some years happy in the Lord, died in hope, and, I trust, is in heaven. At a locality near this place, where wickedness prevailed, I went to preach, and gave out the hymn beginning with 'Blow ye the trumpet, blow.' A man, a deist by profession, said that the singing struck him like peals of thunder. He felt as if the judgment was coming, and he was not ready. Several were converted. At another place, about seven miles from Oxford, a man lived that had once belonged to the Methodist Church, but had lost his religion, and in a backslidden state he married a woman of no religion; when he began housekeeping he got reclaimed and found peace with God. He was not willing to eat his morsel alone, but wishing his neighbors to partake with him of the good things of God, invited me to come and preach at his house. The time appointed was very unfavorable; there was nearly two feet of snow, with a hard crust on it; and I had three appointments that day, and about fourteen miles to travel. When I came to the place the people looked at me as if I was as strange a being as they had ever seen. The next morning, while the man of the house was attending to his business at the barn, the woman and I got into conversation; she passed into a great passion, and declared that if ever I came there again she would have me carried away on a rail. But I made a regular appointment there, and soon got a good society. We held a quarterly meeting not far from that place, at Derby; the woman and her husband came to it, but the conduct of the former was such, that the presiding elder observed that he had never seen a woman possessed with so many devils before, yet that same woman got converted and became a very pious and useful member of the Church. What is too bard for the Lord to do? Glory be to his holy name forever! At another place, about three miles from the latter, I formed another society, but a number of men agreed to give me a ride on a rail. They came to meeting; after preaching they went out into the portico and made a great noise; I went to the door to speak to them; the man of the house took hold of me and pulled me back, and said that they wanted to get me out. I opened the door and said, Gentlemen, if you wish to see and hear how we meet class, please to walk in. They did so; I spoke to the class, and likewise to them, and prayed for all; they went away as gentle as lambs; so I learned that love is stronger than weapons of war. We had a society at a place called Ponsett, near Old Haddam. A member of that society, by the name of Stevens, a shoemaker, moved to a village called Black Rock. Seeing the wickedness of the people, it grieved his righteous soul day by day, and feeling a wish for his neighbors' salvation, he invited me and my colleague, Peter Jayne, to preach in his house, which was very small. The first time that I went, I think there were two or three who ventured into the house, and one or two who looked through the window. We continued there a regular appointment; after a while the people found that we were not so heretical and dangerous as had been supposed, and soon filled the house, and the Lord began to pour out his Spirit upon them. The house became too small; so we moved to a larger one, and in a short time we had a large and respectable society in that place. Some years after I saw a stationed preacher in New York, who told me that he was raised there, and according to his age, when I received his father into society he was about two years old. So the Lord works in his own way, glory be to his holy name! I traveled the year 1797 and part of 1798 on that circuit; we had good times, and nearly doubled our numbers. We were attacked in those days everywhere for our principles. I will give an example. As I was on my way from Norwich to Bozrah, a man came up to me in great haste and concern, and asked me if I was a Methodist preacher. I said, 'Yes, a poor one.' He said, 'I have been wishing and looking to see one this several years, and I am glad that I have found one at last.' I asked him what he 'wanted with him.' He said, 'To make him ashamed of his erroneous principles.' 'What are they?' I asked. 'You hold to falling from grace, don't you?' I said, 'Not so; we hold to getting grace and keeping it.' 'But you allow that people can fall from grace?' 'That is another thing: angels fell; Adam fell; and St. Paul said, I keep under my body, etc., lest when I have preached to others, I myself should be a castaway; if you do not believe the Scriptures you are an infidel.' He said he believed in degrees of falling; that we may fall partly, but not finally. 'Now, sir, if you please, I will ask you a few plain questions. 'Have you ever had grace?' He answered, 'Yes.' 'Have you any grace now?' 'To be sure I have, as I cannot lose it.' 'Now be honest: Don't you get angry?' 'Yes, I do.' 'Do you not swear?' 'Yes, I do.' 'Do you not get drunk?' 'Yes, I do.' 'What you do these things? why, you have no more religion than the devil. Sir, I allow two degrees in falling: the first is to fall from grace as you have, if you ever had any; and if you do not repent and do your first works, the next fall will be into hell, to be miserable forever.' He put whip to his horse and went off in a hurry, and I thought that he would not be in haste to find another Methodist preacher. [4]

In 1798 Vannest entered New York, and was colleague of Thomas Woolsey on Croton Circuit. He returned to New England the next year, and traveled two years respectively on Whitingham and Essex Circuits in Vermont. Methodism was recent and unpopular on these circuits; and at that time the labors and trials of the itinerants were such as would hardly now appear credible. Vannest did brave service there; he scattered the seed of the truth in many new places, and by his deep devotion and characteristic cordiality won the interest of the people, many of whom were added to the societies. In 1801 he was sent to Connecticut, and traveled New London and Pomfret Circuit. The following two years he was traversing the wilds of Upper Canada, as we have seen, with Sawyer and Bangs, among the new settlements on the Bay of Quinte and Oswegatchie Circuits; he returned and spent two years on circuits in New Jersey, and then passed to the western section of New York as a missionary. Methodism spread rapidly in that new country, as our pages show. Vannest had under his care, the next year after his arrival, the large Cayuga District, which he traveled two years.

He returned again to New Jersey in 1810, and labored on Gloucester Circuit. The following four years he had charge of the East Jersey District. He traveled six years longer on Salem, Freehold, Bergen, Gloucester, and New Mills Circuits, all in his native state. In 1821, after a laborious ministry of twenty-four years, he retired into the superannuated ranks of the Philadelphia Conference, and at the organization of the New Jersey Conference was placed in the same relation to that body. He "endured hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ." His labors in New England, in Canada, in Western New York, and New Jersey, were instrumental in the rescue of hundreds of souls. He survived to the extreme age of ninety-one. No one who was a member of the Philadelphia Conference when he entered it was living when he died in 1850.

The returns of members amounted to 4,155, a gain of 1,216. Connecticut had 1,455; Rhode Island, 162; Massachusetts, 1,194; Maine, 936; New Hampshire, 122; Vermont, 286. Connecticut had gained 254; Rhode Island had lost 15; Massachusetts had gained 281; Maine, 820; New Hampshire, 80; Vermont, (which had made no previous returns,) 286. The aggregate increase in New England this year was more than three times as great as that of all the rest of the Church throughout the republic and Canada. The local preachers scattered among the societies amounted about this time to twenty-five at least. [5] With such results the laborious itinerants wended their way from their scattered posts, with grateful hearts and good courage, to their Conferences at Readfield and Granville, in order to plan the work of another year.

The former is memorable as the first Methodist Conference held in Maine. It began the 29th of August, and was an occasion of no ordinary interest. Methodism, though recent in the province, had taken profound hold on the sympathies of the settlers, and hundreds flocked to the small village of Readfield to witness the first assembly of its pioneers in their new and wilderness country. The place was thronged with the devout, who came to enjoy the spiritual advantages of the occasion, and the worldly, who were there to reap gain from it. "Several came," says Lee, "in their carts, with cakes, etc., to sell. No one interrupted us in the meeting-house, but many were walking to and fro, and paid no attention to the meetings."

The session lasted two days, Wednesday and Thursday. Ten preachers were present: Timothy Merritt, John Brodhead, Robert Yallely, Aaron Humphrey, Roger Searle, Joshua Taylor, Jesse Stoneman, Enoch Mudge, and John Finnegan; Asbury made the tenth. On Wednesday "we were closely engaged all day," writes Lee, "much united in love and in the work of the ministry; we had some good accounts, from different places, of a gracious revival of religion." Timothy Merritt cheered them with news of the triumphs of the truth along the banks of the Penobscot; Enoch Mudge, who had been appointed to Pleasant River, had spent much time with him, and they jointly extended the circuit many new settlements; the word sped its way, and one hundred and fifty-three souls had been gathered into the new societies, besides hundreds of converts, who either entered other communions, or as yet none. Kennebec Circuit had heretofore yielded no returns, but now reported one hundred and five. On Bath Circuit about seventy had been added to the little flock. Such were some of the "good accounts" of which Lee speaks. Nearly one thousand Methodists had been raised up in the province, though but about four years had passed since Philip Wager was appointed as the first Methodist preacher to labor exclusively within its limits.

Wednesday was a "great day," says Asbury. The Conference began its usual business very early, and closed it by eight o'clock A. M., in order that the rest of the time might be devoted to public exercises. An immense throng had gathered in the village. At nine o'clock the doors of the new and yet unfinished chapel (the first erected in Maine) were thrown open for the "large number of Methodists, and none else." Shut in from the throng, they held a love-feast together. Representatives of their common cause were there from all the surrounding regions, and from several distant places. "It was a good time," says Lee; "they spoke freely and feelingly" of their Christian experience, and renewed their vows with God and each other. The multitude without heard their fervent ejaculations and exhilarating melodies, and waited impatiently for the public services. At eleven o'clock the doors were opened. From "one thousand to eighteen hundred souls," says Asbury, attempted to get into the building; it was a solid mass of human beings. The galleries, which were yet unfinished, cracked and broke under the pressure, producing much alarm, and slightly injuring a few; but the services proceeded. Asbury ascended the rude pulpit and addressed his itinerant brethren from 2 Cor. iv, 1, 2: "Therefore, seeing we have this ministry, as we have received mercy, we faint not.," etc.

Thus did their great leader, bearing in his own person the marks of his excessive labors, exhort the pioneers of Methodism in Maine to "faint not" in their extraordinary privations and toils, They gathered strength from the veteran's words, and welcomed the daily journeys, the incessant preaching, the wintry storms, and the spiritual victories of another year. Lee tells us that it was a "good sermon," and that, though the bishop, before the meeting, appeared to be weak, yet during the discourse he waxed "strong and courageous." The ordination services followed, and were witnessed with great interest by the throng. Lee describes it as a scene of deep solemnity.

The ordination being over, Lee, whose heart was full, mounted the pulpit, and proclaimed to the multitude of Methodists present, "The God of peace shall bruise Satan under your feet shortly." Rom. xvi, 20. A divine influence fell upon the assembly; tears flowed in all parts of the house. "My soul," he says, "was animated with the presence of the Lord. It was a precious time to many." He could not but feel profoundly under the associations of the scene; only five years before he wandered a solitary evangelist through the province, without a single Methodist to welcome him; now multitudes of them were rising up over its length and breadth, and spreading into bands, and these were but the beginnings of a great work, which he unwaveringly believed would go on prosperously through all time.

Protracted as the services had been, there was still another exercise before they dispersed. They partook of the Lord's Supper together. It was, Lee tells us, "a most solemn time." More than two hundred persons communed. "I stood astonished," he exclaims, "at the sight! to see so many people at the Lord's table, when it is not quite five years since we came into this part of the world."

Thus closed the first Conference in Maine. The preachers immediately hastened to their appointments. Asbury was away the same day. Lee tarried to complete some unfinished business, "thankful to God for the privilege of being at the first Conference ever held in the province of Maine."

Let us now pass to the western session at Granville, Mass., held shortly afterward.

Asbury pressed on westward with his usual speed. He was at Portland the Sabbath after the Readfield Conference, (Sept. 1,) having rode "sixty miles in two days," under the heat of the sun, and over "desperate roads and rocks." He preached there in the "Widow Bynton's back room, to about," he says, "twenty-five persons, chiefly women; my subject was 2 Peter ii, 9. In the afternoon I preached to about double the number on Phil. iii, 8. I returned Sabbath evening to my very kind friend's house, Major Illsley's." The next day he traveled "thirty miles to Wells," on Tuesday forty-seven to Salisbury; on Thursday, 4, he reached Lynn, and the next day preached from Gal. v, 6, 7, 8. We started the following day for Boston, but the retreat at Waltham, in the house of Bemis, presented a stronger charm. "The heat," he says, "was excessive, and the sun met me in the face, so that I was almost ready to faint in the carriage. I changed my mind, and concluded to come on to Waltham, and spend another Sabbath. I missed my way a little, but came in about seven o'clock, riding, since two o'clock, twenty miles." He preached there the next day (Sabbath) twice. It was the finest portion of the year, and the retirement and beauty of the farm tempted him to delay, a temptation which it would have been better for his health oftener to indulge. He tarried three days, reposing on Monday and Tuesday, but on Wednesday renewed his journey, and preached at Weston. The few brethren of that society had been prospered somewhat, and had built a chapel, "a well designed building," says Asbury. He went into their new pulpit and encouraged them from 1 Cor. xv, 58: "Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labor is not in vain in the Lord." Hastening forward, he reached Granville by Tuesday, 18.

The Conference at Granville began at eight o'clock on Wednesday, September 19, 1798, three weeks after the session at Readfield. It was the largest assemblage of Methodist preachers which had ever been convened in New England, about fifty being present, many of them from the neighboring circuits of New York. "We had," says Asbury, "many weighty and deliberate conversations on interesting subjects, in much plainness and moderation;" and he tells us that they "had more good accounts of the work of God in different circuits." Here, as at Readfield, encouraging tidings were brought from all directions. On Granville Circuit, where the Conference sat, more than forty souls had been received into the new communion. Pittsfield Circuit reported a gain of more than seventy-five. Michael Coate could speak of the triumphs of the truth on Middletown Circuit, where great numbers had been awakened and converted, and forty-two were received into the Church. Shadrack Bostwick had seen remarkable displays of the divine influence on New London Circuit; the societies had been invigorated on all sides, and about one hundred members had been added to them. David Buck had good news from Reading Circuit; refreshing showers had fallen through its length and breadth, and an addition of seventy-three members had been made to its classes. Methodism had taken root on Martha's Vineyard, and Joshua Hall reported thirteen members, the first returns from that island. The society in Provincetown having endured persecutions courageously had at last prevailed, its chapel was erected, and during the last year scores had been converted to God within its walls, a gain of more than one hundred was reported at the present Conference. Ralph Williston brought cheering news from Vermont; more than two hundred had been received into the new societies of that state the past year. [6] There had been, in fine, general prosperity in Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Vermont; and, within the range of circuits represented by their pastors in the present Conference, there had been an increase of about one thousand members. [7]

Ten new preachers were received at this session. "Praise the Lord, O my soul!" exclaims Lee, as he records the fact. Among these young men were Epaphras Kibby, Daniel Webb, Asa Heath, and also those two remarkable men, so generally known alike for their great labors and great eccentricities, Billy Hibbard and Lorenzo Dow, the latter after no little opposition, as we have seen. Twelve were ordained. The public services were impressive; Lee speaks of "a blessed time in preaching," when preachers and people were melted into tears. The Conference closed on Friday, 21; the next day Asbury and Lee "began their flight," as the latter calls it. They were accompanied by twelve of the preachers, who had been designated to the neighboring Circuits of New York. By Sunday afternoon they had crossed the boundary, and the bishop was preaching the same evening at Dover.

William Beauchamp was a man of genuine greatness, one of nature's noblemen and God's elect. He was born in the County of Kent, Del., April 26, 1772. His father, a respectable Methodist preacher, removed in the year 1788 or '89 to the western part of the state of Virginia, settled on the Monongahela River, and after residing there six or eight years, again emigrated to little Kanhawa River, in Wood County, Va., where he and Rees Wolfe, another preacher, formed societies. At all early period of his life Beauchamp had religious impressions. When about fifteen or sixteen years old he became a member of the Church. Some time after he began to exhort. He was sent to a seminary of learning, and acquired a knowledge of English and Latin grammar. In 1790 he taught school in Monongahela. At the age of nineteen he began to preach. In 1793, the twenty-first year of his age, he left his father's house on the Monongahela, and traveled under the presiding elder. In 1794 he was stationed on the Allegheny Circuit, which he traveled two years. The next year, 1796, he was appointed to Pittsburgh Circuit. In 1797 he was stationed in New York, and in 1798 in Boston. From thence, in 1799, he was removed to Provincetown, Mass. In 1800 he was stationed on Nantucket. George Cannon, then a located preacher, had preached there with considerable success. As the prospect appeared flattering, he solicited the aid of the traveling ministry, and Beauchamp was sent to his help. He had not been in this station more than six months when a society of between seventy and eighty members was raised up, and, before he left it, a large and commodious meeting-house was built. [8]

In the following year, 1801, he located, having married. In 1807 he removed from Nantucket, and settled near his father, in Wood County, (Va.,) on the little Kanhawa. He continued there, preaching with great popularity and usefulness, till 1815, when he removed to Chilicothe, Ohio, to take the editorial charge of the "Western Christian Monitor," the only periodical publication at that time in the Church. He had previously published his "Essays on the Truth of the Christian Religion," a work of decided merit in the estimation of good critics. He edited the Monitor with conspicuous ability, and preached meanwhile at and about Chilicothe with eminent success. The whole community paid him the homage due to his great talents and exalted character, and a remarkable revival of religion, which occurred soon after his removal, is attributed to his previous instrumentality. He was called the "Demosthenes of the West."

In 1817 he removed to Mount Carmel, Ill., where he was employed in founding a settlement. He showed himself the truly great man in all the details of this new business, planning public measures and economical arrangements; devising mechanical improvements, for which he had a rare genius; directing the instructions of the youth, and simplifying its modes; ministering as pastor to the congregation, and meanwhile advancing in his own personal studies and improvement. In 1822 he re-entered the itinerant ministry in the Missouri Conference. He labored successfully one year at St. Louis, and in 1823 was appointed presiding elder on Indiana District, which included eleven vast circuits, and was nearly coextensive with the bounds of the state. He was sent, the same year, a delegate to the General Conference at Baltimore, and such was the impression produced by his remarkable character and talents that he lacked but two votes of an election to the episcopal office. He would undoubtedly have been elected were it not for the objection that so large a portion of his life had been spent out of the itinerancy.

On his return to his district he was seized by an old complaint, an affection of the liver, and after suffering patiently for about six weeks, fell asleep in Christ with full hope of immortality. His biographer says: "He was conscious of his approaching dissolution, and was fully prepared to meet it. Eternity appeared to be opened to his view; his work was done, and he was ready to go. A short time before he expired he prayed for an easy passage through the gates of death. The Lord heard his prayer; and he died so easy, that he glided into eternity almost before it was perceived he was gone. Thus expired our great and good brother, William Beauchamp, in Paoli, Orange County, Indiana, on the seventh day of October, 1824, in the fifty-third year of his age." [9] The same writer describes his manner of preaching: "He had a little stoop of the shoulders, but, when speaking in public, his gestures were natural and easy. His voice was remarkably soft in social conversation, but in argument energetic. In his preaching, when holding out the promises and the invitations of the gospel, there was a tenderness, a sweetness in his voice, produced frequently by gentle breaks, as if the rising sympathies of his soul obstructed in some degree his utterance; when a gentle thrilling sensation appeared to move the listening multitude, all bending forward to catch every sentence or word as it fell from his lips. This peculiarity has frequently been admired. But when he became argumentative, and discussed doctrinal points, or when false doctrines were attacked, the tone of his voice was elevated, his whole system became nerved, and his voice assumed a deep hollow tone, and then soon became elevated to its highest key, and fell like peals of thunder on the ears of the listening assembly. On one occasion the force of his powerful eloquence was fully demonstrated; it was on a subject of controversy. His antagonist, who had sat and listened for some length of time to arguments too powerful for him to answer, began to look as if the voice which he now heard came from another world, through the shadow of a man. He rose, apparently with a view to leave the house; but being so overcome, he staggered, caught by the railing, reeled, and fell to his seat, and there sat overwhelmed and confounded, until the discourse was concluded, when he quietly stepped from the house. His manner of preaching was plain. He seldom divided his subject into different heads, but took the natural division of the text. His sermons were deep, and made a lasting impression upon the mind, because they were both practical and doctrinal. Holiness was his theme. There was seldom a shout raised in the assembly under his preaching, but always strict attention was paid to his discourses, every eye was fixed upon the speaker, and frequently the people were all bathed in tears."

Beauchamp was an arduous student. His early conveniences for mental culture were quite limited; but besides the usual variety of English studies, he became a master of Latin, Greek, and Hebrew. While yet residing on the Monongahela, where the schoolmaster had never yet penetrated, he was so smitten with the love of knowledge that, when the family had retired to bed, he would stretch himself on the floor before the hearth, and, with torchlights for candles, spend most of the night in communion with his favorite authors.

His style of preaching is said to have been severely chaste and dignified; no attempts at meretricious [superficial — DVM] ornament or imaginative effect, no boisterous declamation or far-fetched novelties of thought or diction, but a stern energy of intellect, logical conclusiveness, a solemn feeling, gradually rising to a commanding and sometimes overpowering force, were the characteristics of this truly great divine.

Another conspicuous name appears in the list of the New England appointments the present year, that of Daniel Webb, who became the oldest effective Methodist preacher in the world. He was born in Canterbury, Windham County, Conn., April, 1778. The Methodist itinerants began to preach in that town about 1793 or 1794. He early heard Mudge, Pickering, Bostwick, and Merritt. They preached at the house of Captain Ephraim Lyon, in the southwest part of Canterbury. Very soon a class was formed, and the place was made one of the Sabbath appointments of the New London Circuit. "I have heard," he writes, "my father say that James Coleman was his spiritual father, having been awakened by his instrumentality, though converted under the labors of Enoch Mudge. I well remember the morning when he addressed his family, telling them what the Lord had done for his soul, and expressing his conviction of the duty of family devotion, which he then commenced, and continued, as he was able, while he lived." [10]

Young Webb often had serious reflections. At length, he writes, "a young woman, a member of the Methodist Episcopal Church, came to my father's house to work as a tailoress. She was faithful to her Lord, and religion was the theme of her conversation. Having an opportunity one day, she said to me, 'My young friend, what do you think of religion?' I replied, 'I think it to be a good and a necessary thing for all persons before they die.' "Then,' said she, 'what objection have you to seeking it now?' 'If I could have my young companions with me I should be willing to seek it now,' I replied. She then said, 'My dear friend, do not wait for your companions; you may perhaps be in your grave before they will turn to the Lord.' These words were as a nail in a sure place. They arrested my attention. They took hold of my heart. I began to pray, God be merciful to me a sinner! I saw that it would be just in God to cast me off and send me to hell. I was led to cry the more for mercy; and in about four weeks from the time of her faithfulness to me, in a little prayer-meeting, the Lord spoke peace to my soul; and the next day, in a woods, he gave me a sealing evidence of my acceptance with him, and I went on my way rejoicing. This was in the year 1797, and in the month of August." The primitive Methodists were particular in such dates.

In less than a year he was "exhorting" on the circuit. Bostwick called him out to Middletown Circuit, (Conn.,) and there he preached his first sermon. In 1798, received by the Conference, he was appointed to Granville Circuit, which was then two hundred miles in circumference, including the towns of Granville, Granby, Suffield, Westfield, West Springfield, Southampton, Northampton, Cummington, Ashfield, Buckland, Worthington, Dalton, Partridgefield, Washington, Pittsfield, Lee, Tyringham, Sandisfield, Blanford, Chester, and several others. "We had," he writes, "to cross the Green Mountains twice in each round. I frequently had to dismount my horse, and break through the snow banks to get him along. We preached almost every day, besides visiting, and attending prayer and class-meetings, so that our labors were very considerable. My next appointment, 1799, by the direction of the presiding elder, George Pickering, was Sandwich, Mass., instead of Martha's Vineyard, to which the Conference sent me. This was a two weeks' circuit. The Sabbath appointments were Sandwich Town and Monument. The societies were small, and the encouragement but little, the germ only of the present state of things there. After laboring there about three months, the presiding elder directed me to Hawke, now Danville, in the southeasterly part of New Hampshire, where there were no Methodist Churches formed; but the ground had been partially broken up by George Pickering, Ralph Williston, John Nichols, and perhaps others. Epaphras Kibby was also sent into that country about the same time, but he labored principally in Poplin and East Kingston. He occasionally visited me and I him. We tried to encourage and assist each other in our hard labors and privations. We had been there but a few months before the Lord blessed our efforts, and a class was formed first in Hawke and then in Poplin, and at a later period in East Kingston.

At the next Conference, which was in Lynn, June, 1800, he was ordained a deacon by Bishop Whatcoat, and stationed on Norridgewock Circuit, in the district of Maine. That circuit included the towns of Starks, Norridgewock, Canaan, Fairfield, Anson, and the settlements then called Industry, New Portland, Barnardstown, Carryatuck Falls, etc. He also visited Vassalborough, and preached there once or twice. "I went," he says, "very reluctantly to the circuit, having heard a great many frightful stories about the country. Setting aside the disgrace of it, perhaps I should have felt but little worse if I had been doomed to the state prison for a year. But we do not always know what is best for us. It proved to be one of the happiest and most prosperous years of my ministerial life. There was a good revival in Norridgewock and in Industry. I left the circuit with reluctance, 'sorrowing most of all' that probably 'I should see their faces no more.' "

At the Conference which sat in Lynn, 1801, he was appointed to labor in Salisbury and parts adjacent; also in 1802, in the same regions. In 1803 he was stationed in Marblehead, and in 1804 in Hawke and vicinity. His labors extended also to Salem, in New Hampshire. At the next Conference, 1805, he was stationed in Lynn, Mass., and preached in the old Lee meeting-house, which stood at the east end of the Common. The established Church of the village had not yet relented in its hostility, and menaces of a prosecution had been uttered against his predecessor, Peter Jayne, for marrying one or more couples, members of his own congregation. Asbury took measures, in the appointment of Webb, to meet this embarrassing difficulty by imitating some of the forms of a "regular settlement." "He told the Church," says Webb, "that he had appointed me to be their pastor. They signified their acceptance of me as such, and he gave me a charge and token of fellowship." Afterward the preachers stationed in Boston and Marblehead, with their people, went through similar ceremonies, and the objections to the legality of marriage, solemnized by Methodist ministers, ceased.

He continued in Lynn two years, and at the Conference in Boston, 1807, was appointed, with George Pickering, to that city. The Conference rose on Saturday, and he returned immediately to his family at Lynn. Asbury also went thither. Early the next morning a committee, consisting of three of the chief men of the Boston Church, arrived to remonstrate with the bishop against the substitution of Webb in the place of Merwin, who had been in the city the preceding year. "It will not do," replied the bishop; "Merwin will die if he stays there; he must go to Newport." The committee returned in no very agreeable mood. At first Webb was reluctantly received; "but," he says, "Pickering and I went to our work with one heart, and hand in hand. He was foremost in every good work, and I endeavored to follow on. We were cordially received after a few weeks. The Lord blessed our labors, and many souls were brought to the knowledge of the truth, considerably over one hundred, I believe. Our brethren in the ministry, Thomas C. Pierce, and Thomas W, Tucker, were converted this year." The Church was in debt three or four hundred dollars for the expenses of the last year. The debt and all the expenses of the current year were paid, and, as a society, at the conclusion of the year they owed nothing.

He remained another year in the city, with Martin Ruter as colleague. The Church prospered greatly. The evening before he left it for his next year's appointment the members pressed into his house, with blessings on their tongues and in their hands. Many had been converted during the year, among whom were several who became preachers; fiscal embarrassments had been thrown off, and all the interests of the society were invigorated,

His subsequent appointments were in various parts of Massachusetts and Rhode Island, and he lived, beloved and venerated for his unblemished character and long services, down to 1867, when he died in the full assurance of hope. He was noted for the brevity, perspicuity, systematic arrangement, and evangelical richness of his discourses, his unpretending but cordial manners, and his steadfast interest for his Church.

Epaphras Kibby survived down to our day, one of the patriarchs of the New England itinerants. He was converted under the ministry of George Roberts, "One sermon," he writes, "from this powerful, eloquent man was all-sufficient, under the Divine Spirit, to rouse my guilty soul, and to extort the cry, 'What shall I do to be saved?'" It is a little remarkable that the sermon which produced this effect was on a controversial occasion. An heretical clergyman visited the town; Roberts heard him in the Court-house, and perceiving the dangerous plausibility of his discourse, announced a rejoinder in the evening at the same place; a crowd assembled to witness the rencontre. [Oxford Dict. rencontre n. archaic = rencounter or re-encounter — DVM] Roberts was a man of great earnestness and power; he not only confounded the logic of his antagonist, utterly baffling him before the assembly, but dealt home such resistless admonitions to the latter, that some thirteen or fourteen young men were awakened on the spot. "I felt," says Kibby, "as I never did before. I prayed, I tried to weep, but I could not. I tried to repent, but my heart was as hard as stone. And thus, for three weeks, I went with my head bowed down like a bulrush, attending all the meetings, sometimes spending the whole night on my knees in prayer, carrying about a body of sin and death, until I once rose up in the meeting to tell the sympathizing Christians that in my case there was no hope. But before my lips pronounced the words the power of God fell upon me. I sunk into my chair. Rays of light, heavenly and divine, fell upon my dark understanding. The love of God filled my whole soul; the Holy Ghost descended upon the people, and the shout of a king was among us. O what a day! a day never to be forgotten. My captivity was turned and Israel was glad."

This was in 1793, and in the sixteenth year of his age. In 1798 he was pressed into the itinerant service at the Granville Conference, though he had never attempted to preach a sermon, but had only "exhorted." "Go, my son," said Asbury to him, "and God be with you. Do the best you can; an angel cannot do better." His first appointment was on Sandwich Circuit, Mass., and thus began one of the longest ministerial careers in our annals, though it was interrupted at intervals by broken health and a "supernumerary relation" to the Conference, and concluded by a protracted "superannuation." He traveled in Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New Hampshire, and Maine. He formed the first Methodist society in New Bedford, Mass., and also in Hallowell, Me. and occupied, with distinction, the stations of Boston, Portland, and New Bedford. He suffered the early hardships of the Maine circuits courageously, and helped effectually to lay the foundations of Methodism through much of that country at the beginning of the century. When appointed there in 1800, it seemed a distant and appalling field to him; but he was accompanied and cheered on the way by a convoy of brave-spirited itinerants, Merritt, Heath, Webb, and others, all bound to eastern circuits. When be arrived he found a vast sphere of labor before him. Readfield Circuit then included Monmouth, Winthrop, Readfield, Kent's Hill, Montville, Vienna, New Sharon, Farmington, Strong, Bethel, the extreme settlement on Sandy River, New Vineyard, Wilton, Jay, Livermore, Fayette, Wayne, Leeds, and Green, besides many smaller appointments. He preached and traveled every day, except one Saturday in each month. The roads were new, and at times dangerous to man and beast. In one section of the circuit he had to pass through a forest six miles in extent, at first with a guide, and subsequently by marks upon the trees. Frequently he was obliged to cross frozen streams when the ice would not bear his horse; but while he himself walked upon it, the latter, led by his hand, had to break a way, cutting himself with ice, and coming forth exhausted and bloody from the struggle. In other seasons these streams had to be forded or swum, often at the risk of life. In those remote regions he usually slept in log-cabins, through the roofs of which the stars shone upon his slumbers and the snow fell upon his bed, forming a cover by morning several inches thick. [12] Again his spirit sunk within him. Such exposures and labors seemed impracticable; he felt that he must retreat, but God interposed for him. When about to give up in despair, a marvelous revival broke out in the circuit; he took fresh courage and went on his way rejoicing.

This event was of too remarkable a character to be omitted here. While doubting and praying, respecting his duty to remain any longer, a young gentleman of Monmouth, of high position in society, heard him accidentally at a neighboring village, and on returning home reported among his neighbors an exalted opinion of the young preacher's talents and character and particularly urged his own wife to go and hear him when he should arrive in their town. He himself made no pretensions to piety; his lady had been deeply serious some time before, but had apparently lost her religious convictions. Kibby went to Monmouth to preach in the Congregational Church. As he sat in the desk waiting, a divine afflatus seemed to descend on him and the gathering people. He has been heard to say that he never before nor since witnessed a more direct and remarkable agency of the Spirit of God. A well-dressed lady arrived, and took a seat, tremblingly, near the door, but where the whole assembly saw her. Without an audible expression her countenance and demeanor exhibited unutterable feeling, and the whole audience soon seemed to share it. The preacher proceeded with his discourse with unusual interest and solemnity. As he advanced, exhibiting the mercy of God, the feeling of awe which had hitherto absorbed the assembly seemed to change, a glad and grateful emotion sped through the mass, a bright and glowing expression shone on their faces; and the lady, with streaming tears and overflowing heart, found peace with God, and seemed transfigured before them. When they rose to sing, she fell insensible under her intense feelings; her husband, near her, was smitten down, and dropped upon his seat; the presence of God seemed to overshadow the place; and the assembly was overwhelmed. The lady herself became a devoted member of the Church; her husband, General McClellan, was the man who invited Kibby. He subsequently was converted, and their family was long known on the Kennebec for its affluent and Christian hospitality, and its devotion to the interests of Methodism. It afterward became the germ of the Methodist Church in Bath. The influence of this remarkable meeting spread like a flame through the town and neighboring villages, and, indeed, more or less over the circuit. The sinking heart of the preacher was fortified forever.

These scenes at Monmouth led to the introduction of Methodism into Hallowell. A young man at the former, but belonging to the latter, entreated Kibby to visit the town and preach to its inhabitants. He consented, passed into the village, procured a school-house, and had a large congregation; but at the end of the service his hearers all retired, leaving him alone without an invitation to any of their homes, or an intimation of their approval or disapproval of his doctrines. He felt disappointed, mortified, and mounting his horse rode four miles to Augusta for a supper, believing that he had erred in going to Hallowell. On arriving at Augusta, some gentlemen of high respectability, who admired his talents, appointed a meeting for him in a hall. When he entered it he found an apparently selected audience. After the sermon one of the hearers rose and said, "I approve these doctrines and esteem this man;" and throwing a dollar on the table he added, "you, gentlemen, may do likewise." A shower of silver dollars came down upon the table; the preacher refused them, but he was urged and compelled to receive them. It was no superfluous bounty, but a most opportune providence, meeting necessities which could hardly have otherwise been sustained. But a more cheering incident followed. Before he left the hall he was compensated, somewhat, for his mortifying treatment at Hallowell. A man, trembling with emotion, took him by the hand and inquired, "When, sir, are you coming again to Hallowell?" "Never, Sir," replied the preacher. "Do, do I come once more," rejoined the stranger, with tears, "for your discourse there, today, has awakened my guilty soul." Unexpected results of one day!

Kibby saw the hand of God in these things. He sent back by the stranger an appointment at Hallowell for four weeks afterward, the time of his next return to that part of the circuit. When he arrived he found that the awakened man had been converted. The house was crowded, and he was embarrassed with invitations to hospitable homes; he tarried the next day, and spent it in visiting from house to house, and nearly every family he called upon he found under the awakening influence of the Divine Spirit. A revival broke out which spread through the whole population, and the first Methodist society of Hallowell was formed. The two first persons, a man and his wife, converted in this extraordinary reformation, presented their two sons to him for baptism. They were twins, and scarcely distinguishable. He offered them specially to God in prayer, by that holy rite. One of them now sleeps in a grave in Africa, the first foreign missionary of the Methodist Episcopal Church. The other became a preacher of Methodism in New England.

In 1841 he was reported among the "superannuated" in the New England Conference, and remained on that honored roll till his death in 1885, when he departed, exclaiming, "Glory to God! glory to God!" after a ministry of sixty-seven years. [13] He was tall, erect, and slight in person, extremely neat in dress, and venerable in appearance. His talents were of a very superior order. His imagination furnished him with vivid illustrations, always abundant, chaste, and appropriate; his reasoning was strikingly perspicuous, direct, and conclusive; his language remarkable for both elegance and force. Though he never used notes in the pulpit, yet a large portion of his sermons were fully written, the cause, probably, of that rich and correct diction which so eminently characterized even his impromptu addresses. He was a fond lover of good literature, and abounded in general knowledge. His judgment was always cautious and safe, his zeal steady and effective, his attachment to the doctrines and economy of Methodism unwavering amid many calls and temptations to more comfortable stations in other communions. Without ambition or pretension, he attained to a rare popularity as a preacher in the days of his vigor. He accomplished distinguished service in the Church, and is endeared to it, in most of New England, by precious recollections.

Joshua Soule, though not named in the Minutes till the next year, began to travel about this time, under the presiding elder of Maine District. He occupies a distinguished position in our denominational history. He was born in Bristol, Hancock County, Me., August 1, 1781. About 1795 his family removed to Avon, then a recent settlement on Sandy River; the Readfield Circuit extended to this remote frontier, and Enoch Mudge and other traveling evangelists occasionally penetrated to it, sounding the word of life among its sparse habitations. "The settlement," says Mudge, [14] "was new, and his father's house unfinished. Joshua had a precocious mind, a strong memory, a manly and dignified turn, although his appearance was exceedingly rustic." Youthful and untutored as he was, the doctrines of the gospel, as exhibited by the preachers of Methodism, arrested his attention, and commended themselves to his opening intellect. In June, 1797, after seeking reconciliation with God through Jesus Christ, with a broken and contrite heart, he found peace in believing. The chivalric zeal and energy of the Methodist itinerants who had brought the word of life to his distant home, found a responsive sympathy in his youthful heart, and was congenial with those habits of adventure and exertion to which his life on the frontier had habituated him. He longed to share their heroic labors, and to go forth "into all the world" proclaiming the joyful sound of the gospel. The Divine Spirit selected and anointed him for signal achievements in the Church. Joshua Taylor, who was presiding elder in Maine about this time, perceived beneath the rudeness and rusticity of his appearance those elements of promise which have since distinguished his career, and encouraged him immediately to enter upon his ministerial labors. He was then (1798) but about seventeen years of age. An academy would doubtless have better befitted him, and would have guaranteed a full repayment, in increased usefulness, for the delay required by a few years of study; but there was absolutely none within his reach, and indefatigable habits of application and observation were at least a partial substitute. He accompanied Taylor around the district, exhorting after his sermons, exciting general interest by his youth and devotion, and not a little by the contrast which he presented of rustic awkwardness with extraordinary though unpolished talents.

He was received at the next Conference, and appointed, with Timothy Merritt, to Portland Circuit. Merritt, still young and vigorous, was a congenial mind, thirsting alike for knowledge and holiness, and their reciprocal influence could not but be mutually profitable, so far as their continual travels and labors would admit. After staying one year more in Maine, during which he traveled a circuit on Union River, he passed to Massachusetts, and was appointed in 1801, 1802, and 1803, respectively, to Sandwich, Needham, and Nantucket. In 1804 he returned to his native state, and traveled two years as presiding elder of the district of Maine. This was the only district in the province at that period; he had, therefore, the oversight of the entire Methodist interest of that large section of New England. Thirteen circuits were under his superintendence. His sermons at this time are reported to have been distinguished by that breadth of view and majesty of style which, in later years, notwithstanding some abatement through the variety of his responsibilities, have continued to mark with greatness his pulpit efforts. His word was oftentimes in irresistible power, bearing down upon the large assemblies which collected to hear him, like the storm on the bending forest. He shared fully, during his presiding eldership in Maine, the sufferings of the early itinerancy: long journeys on horseback, over new roads, through vast forests, in the storms of winter; fording dangerous streams, lodging in exposed log cabins, preaching almost daily, and receiving a pecuniary compensation scarcely sufficient for traveling expenses and clothing. These were the tests, however, which made strong men of the Methodist preachers of that day.

Such was the prosperity and extension of the district during these two years, that in 1806 it was divided, and its eastern portion formed into a new one, named after the Kennebec River, along which it chiefly extended. Soule took charge of the latter during 1806 and 1807. The following four years he traveled again the other section, then called Portland District. During this period Martin Ruter, Epaphras Kibby, Ebenezer Blake, Charles Virgin, Daniel Fillmore, Samuel Hillman, and others of familiar name in the New England Churches, were under his guidance. They had hard struggles but glorious victories in spreading the truth through the wilds of Maine. In 1812 Soule returned to Massachusetts, and was the colleague of Daniel Webb at Lynn; but in the following year was back again, traveling his former district on the Kennebec. He continued there till 1816, when he was appointed Book Agent at New York. He did good service for the Church in this capacity during four years, especially by the publication of the Methodist Magazine, the appearance of which, "even at this late period," says the historian of the Church, "was hailed by the friends of literature and religion as the harbinger of brighter days to our Zion." Soule was its editor; his original articles were sensible in thought and dignified in style, though betraying often those minute intellectual defects which self-education, however advantageous in other respects, seldom eradicates. Its selections were peculiarly attractive and instructive, and such was its success, that ten thousand subscribers were obtained the first year. Bangs took Soule's place at the Book Rooms in 1820, and the latter was stationed in New York city, where he labored two years with Hunt, Hibbard, Spicer, and Summerfield. The following two year's he spent in Baltimore, and in 1824 was elected to the episcopacy, in the forty-third year of his age, and the twenty-sixth of his ministry. For forty-three years he has sustained the onerous responsibilities of that office, traversing the continent, from the Penobscot in Maine, to the Colorado in Texas, presiding in Conferences, visiting in long and perilous journeys the Indian Missions, and energetically laboring, by the many facilities of his position, for the promotion of the Church.

In the discussions of the General Conference of 1844, which resulted in the division of the Church, he attached himself to the party formed by the representatives of the South, and has since identified himself with that section of the denomination.

Bishop Soule was erect, tall, and slight in person, and dignified in his bearing; his forehead high, but narrow, his voice strong and commanding. In the pulpit he was slow, long in his sermons usually occupying an hour and a half for each; elaborate, almost entirely destitute of imagination or figurative illustrations, but strongly fortified in the main positions of his subject, and vigorous in his style. His discourses showed more breadth than depth, but were often overwhelmingly impressive. The dignity of his bearing, frequently verging on majesty itself; gave to his sermons, at times, an imposing solemnity; but on occasions less congruous with it, had the disadvantage of appearing, to the fastidious at least, pompous and repulsive.

He did great services and endured great privations for Methodism. Northern Methodists, however they may regret his later measures, will ever recall him with gratitude and respect as one of their veteran pioneers, and a noble son of their soil He died, near Nashville, Tenn. March 6, 1867, in the full assurance of faith.

The year had been prosperous, though not so generally as the preceding one. The new circuit of Vergennes, in Vermont, which was projected at the Granville Conference, had been the scene of a great reformation. It comprehended all the State of Vermont, between the Green Mountains and Lake Champlain, and required incredible travels and labors. It was a field for an evangelical Hercules, and such was Joseph Mitchell, its itinerant. His ministrations were in power, his zeal never flagged; preaching night and day, traveling at the rate of nearly six thousand miles a year, and suffering extreme privations, to which were superadded not a few instances of violent persecution, he overcame all obstacles, and "the word ran and was glorified" through that extensive region. Hundreds of souls were converted, many of whom entered other Churches; but at least eighty-eight were received into classes, some of which he now formed for the first time. The other circuit in Vermont, (Vershire,) which included all the state east of the mountains, had shared this prosperity. Under the labors of Joseph Crawford sixty-five had been received into the societies, besides vast numbers who were awakened, but had not yet joined the new communion. Three new circuits had been formed in this single state, namely, Essex, Winsor, and Whitingham. The former returned one hundred and ten members, the latter fifty-five. Methodism had scattered its germs extensively through Vermont, and small classes, the nuclei of subsequent Churches, had been formed in all directions.

Joseph Snelling had labored successfully on Martha's Vineyard. The number of Methodists on that island, though still small, was nearly doubled since the Granville Conference. He had also visited Nantucket during the year, and witnessed the conversion of many souls. Great results had been reaped on Pittsfield Circuit. The eccentric but sincere Lorenzo Dow, who had been admitted to the ministry at Granville Conference, and appointed to Cambridge Circuit, N. Y., was transferred during the year to Pittsfield. Notwithstanding his singularities, he was remarkably successful. In many places he was repulsed by the societies, and denied the hospitalities of the families which usually entertained the circuit preachers; but his unwearied labors produced in time a profound impression. He sometimes rode more than fifty miles, and preached five sermons, besides leading several classes, in a single day. The astonished people, witnessing his earnestness and usefulness, soon treated him more respectfully, and a general revival ensued. In Pittsfield, where at first he received no invitation to their homes, he says, "I visited it extensively, and had the satisfaction to see the Methodists and others stirred up to serve God. Now they offered me presents, which I refused, saying, The next preachers invite home and treat well, for my sake. In Alford," he says, in his characteristic style, "I preached Methodism, inside and outside. The brethren here treated me very coldly at first, so I was necessitated to pay for my horse-keeping for five weeks, and, being confined a few days with the ague and fever, the man of the house not being a Methodist, I paid him for my accommodation. I had said in public that God would bless my labors there, which made the people watch me for evil, and not for good. I visited the whole neighborhood from house to house, which made a great uproar among the people. However, the fire kindled; the society got enlivened, and several others who were stumbling at the unexemplary walk of professors, were convinced and brought to find the realities of religion for themselves When leaving this place I was offered pay for my expenses; but I refused it, saying, If you wish to do me good, treat the coming preachers better than you have treated me. Now the eyes of many were enlightened to see a free salvation offered to all mankind. In Lennox the society and people were much prejudiced at first, but the former were quickened afresh."

This eccentric man left the circuit in a state of universal prosperity; one hundred and eighty had been added to the societies, and about five hundred more "were under conviction for sin." The sensation was wonderful, and some, to our day, stood up in the Church as witnesses of his usefulness. "We have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of man."

Extensive reformations had prevailed in Maine. The aggregate of members in all the New England states was four thousand nine hundred and fifty-four, and the increase of the year was about eight hundred, more than two thirds of the increase of the entire denomination. The gains were chiefly in Maine, Vermont, and Massachusetts. Rhode Island still lingered tardily in the rear. It returned but one hundred and ninety-six members, a gain of only thirty-four during the year, a declension of twelve from the number reported four years before. About seven years had passed since the first regular appointment was made in that state, and but three since Nicholas Snethen traveled the first circuit in Vermont, yet the former scarcely reports two hundred members, while the latter returns six hundred and four. New Hampshire, though now overspread with Methodists, also gave a reluctant admission to its hardy itinerants. But one circuit had yet been formed in the state. Three years had passed since Philip Wager entered it as the first Methodist preacher regularly sent thither. Elijah Bachelor reported the present year but one hundred and thirty-one Methodists within its limits, a gain of but nine since the last returns, and of but sixty-three in three years. Methodism had to struggle into that state. Long rides, bad roads, hard fare, exposure to the weather by night in log-cabins, to perils by day in fording creeks and rivers, were not the only trials to which the laborious preachers were subjected. They were generally assailed by other sects, and sometimes by the mob.

Similar scenes were not uncommon in Vermont as well as New Hampshire. The hardy settlers of these wilderness regions chose a more summary, but less vexatious method of suppressing the new sect than their more staid and more obstinate neighbors of Connecticut and Massachusetts. The latter imprisoned, seized property, anathematized from the pulpit, and did so with most patient pertinacity for years, while the former shook their fists and swore terribly against the intruders on one day, and on the next were weeping and falling as dead men under their preaching. New Hampshire has since become a fruitful field of Methodism.

There was no Conference in New England in 1799; the New York Conference made the appointments for the Eastern States. Elijah Hedding, though his name does not appear in the Minutes till a later date, commenced traveling this year by the direction of the presiding elder. He was born in Dutchess County, N. Y., June 7, 1780, but removed with his parents, at about his tenth year, to Starksborough, Vt. The Methodist itinerants had not yet penetrated thither; but an aged Methodist and his wife, a "mother in Israel," had removed to that town from Connecticut, and, though remote from any members of their chosen communion, and several miles from any church whatever, they let their light so shine that their neighbors saw their good works, and glorified their Father which is in heaven. The Church is indebted for the services of this distinguished man to the instrumentality of that elect lady. Meetings were opened in her humble dwelling two or three years before the arrival of the itinerants. There was no one in the neighborhood, at first, capable of praying in public, except herself and her husband, who was a devoted Christian of moderate abilities. They induced young Hedding, then about sixteen years old, to assist them in their Sabbath services. Though uninterested in religion, he consented to read a sermon every Sunday to the assembled neighbors, the good man of the house beginning and concluding the exercises with singing and prayer. The latter was abundantly furnished with Wesley's works and other Methodist publications; by his public Sabbath readings, Hedding became thoroughly acquainted with the doctrines of Methodism, and was so struck with their evangelical richness and practical appropriateness, that he soon read all the books in the cottage of the pious couple. He has been heard to say that this was the best theological training he ever enjoyed. His first, permanent religious impressions were produced by the conversations of the Christian matron. She perceived his promising talents, and strong moral susceptibility. Hoping that he might be providentially called to important services in the Church, she conversed with him frequently on subjects of religion, and succeeded at last in awakening in his mind a deep concern for his spiritual safety. About this time the old Vergennes Circuit was formed, and took in the town of Starksborough; Joseph Mitchell, a man mighty in word and in doctrine, opportunely visited the place. Hedding heard him preach, his convictions were deepened, and as he returned to his home he retired into a forest, and, kneeling down by a large tree, covenanted with God to live and die in his service, whatever might be the sacrifice involved in the resolution. Soon after he heard Mitchell again; the discourse was one of remarkable power; it disclosed to him, in a manner he had never yet perceived, the exceeding sinfulness of sin, and the peril of the unrenewed soul. He was now seized with unutterable anxiety, and for several weeks gave himself to prayer with anguish and tears, night and day; divine truth shone upon his conscience in all its reality, and he trembled under the sense of his sinfulness and danger. Such, usually, are the profound convictions and spiritual travail of those whom God designs for important purposes in his Church.

He looked with longing solicitude for the next visit of the itinerant evangelist, who soon arrived and preached in the house where the youthful penitent had been accustomed to read the sermons of Wesley. After the discourse a class-meeting was held, as usual, by the preacher; on ascertaining the deep convictions of young Hedding, he proposed that special prayer and be made in his behalf; the itinerant and the pious cottagers bowed around him, and continued in supplication till peace dawned on his troubled spirit. This was on the 27th of December, 1798.

It was not long before he was licensed to exhort, and in about a year he was sent by the presiding elder to Essex Circuit, Vt., to supply the place of the eccentric Lorenzo Dow, who, after traveling and laboring with incredible diligence, had departed under a supposed divine impression to preach in Ireland. He continued about three months on the circuit, exhorting, without a text, at all the appointments, holding a public meeting and leading a class daily. His word was in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, and revivals broke out around the whole circuit. He soon after received license as a local preacher, and was sent by the presiding elder to Plattsburgh Circuit, N. Y., whence he was transferred in about six weeks to Cambridge Circuit, to supply the place of a disabled preacher. At the Conference of 1801 he was received on probation, and dispatched again to Plattsburgh. It was a long circuit, requiring about three hundred miles of travel monthly, with daily public labors. It reached from Ticonderoga on the south, to beyond the Canada line on the north, meandering extensively to the right and left, and the laborious itinerant was compelled to swim streams, traverse forests on new and rough roads, and sleep in log-cabins through which the rain and snow often beat upon him in his bed. Many of the settlements were recent, and in some of them the gospel had never been preached before. The settlers thronged to hear the word, and a flame of divine influence spread through the circuit, and hosts were gathered into the Church. In 1802 he was appointed to Fletcher Circuit, another large field of labor, extending from Onion River, Vt., on the south, fifteen or twenty miles beyond the Canada line, and including the settlements east of Lake Champlain and west of the Green Mountains. Here he had to travel three hundred miles a month, preach once, and often twice daily, besides attending classes and prayer-meetings. His colleague as Henry Ryan, "a brave Irishman," he says, a man who labored as if the judgment thunders were to follow each sermon. [15] The route of the circuit was in the form of the figure eight. The two preachers usually met at the point of intersection, when Ryan, hastily saluting his young fellow-laborer, would exclaim as he passed, "Drive on! drive on! brother, let us drive the devil out of the land!" — a significant though rough expression of the tireless energy which characterized the itinerant ministry of that day. Here, likewise, were encountered all the privations and exposures of a recent country; bad roads, long drives in wintry storms, and through forests bound in ice, and sleepless nights spent in cabins through which the winds whistled and the rain dropped. More serious trials attended them and their successors in this region; while many of the settlers were hungry for the word of life, and welcomed them as the men who showed the way of salvation; others, perverted by their long privation of religious influences, pursued them with relentless persecutions. In some places Hedding was hooted and threatened in the streets; Dow was struck in the face; Abner Wood was horsewhipped; and Elijah Sabin severely wounded on the head by the butt-end of a whip. Still they prevailed; their persecutors were often marvelously awakened, multitudes received them joyfully, and gladly shared the reproach of the cross, and now peaceful and prosperous Churches are spread all over that region, the fruits of the toils and sufferings of Hedding and his co-laborers.

In 1803 he was sent to Bridgewater Circuit, N. H., which comprised thirteen towns, and required one hundred miles travel per week, two sermons usually a day, and three on, the Sabbath. Here he had no colleague, but bore the burden alone. A remarkable revival attended his labors, intense interest spread throughout the circuit, hundreds were awakened, and it seemed that the whole population were about to turn unto God by repentance. Excited, himself, by the general interest, and unaided by a fellow-laborer, he exerted himself beyond his strength, and in the midst of his labors was smitten down by disease from which he never entirely recovered. He was unable to turn himself in bed, or lift food to his lips during six weeks, and more than four months passed before he could walk across his chamber; he resumed, however, his work, and the remainder of the year went around the circuit, preaching as he had strength, and gathering the fruits of his former labors. He formed during this year many new societies, which are still thriving. In 1804 he was on Hanover Circuit, N. H. The next year he was spent at the Lynn Conference, and was ordained elder by Bishop Asbury, at a public service in a neighboring woods. From this Conference he was sent to Barre Circuit, Vt., with Dan Young. Here again he had a great field of trial and toil, preaching in twenty towns and riding about three hundred miles every four weeks, with daily services. In 1806 he traveled the Vershire Circuit, Vt. During this year his prudence was called into exercise and tested by a remarkable occurrence. The disposition to emigrate to Ohio infected that whole section of the country. It became a species of mania, and every official member of the circuit departed about the same time, leaving it without a local preacher, trustee, steward, or leader. The Church, through the whole series of towns comprised in the circuit, was thus suddenly left without a single officer, and the vacant posts had to be as suddenly filled by new appointments. Hedding's wisdom was, however, found adequate to the singular exigency. He selected judicious and efficient men, and no inconvenience ensued. In 1807 he was appointed presiding elder of New Hampshire District, which included the entire extent of the state, except a small fragment about Portsmouth, which pertained to the Boston District. His labors this year were Herculean, involving at least three thousand miles of travel and a daily public service, besides the usual and perplexing ecclesiastical business of the office; such, too, was the poverty of the infant Churches on the district, that at the end of the year his aggregate receipts for salary, besides traveling expenses, was $4.25. He continued two years on this district, and saw Methodism extended vastly in the state. In 1809 he was removed to New London District, which he traveled two years. It extended from Long Island Sound to New Hampshire, and from the Connecticut River to Narragansett Bay, R. I., and Needham, Mass. Several camp-meetings were held within it during those two years, and were remarkably successful. One particularly, at Hebron, Conn., was attended by a large concourse, about three thousand people being there constantly, many from great distances. The preaching was distinguished by extraordinary effects. It was estimated by Hedding himself, that under one sermon "five hundred persons fell to the earth as if shot, in five minutes." The excitement was resistless, and many sober-minded Christians, who had always opposed such scenes, were smitten down and lay insensible for hours. The fruits of those great occasions are still scattered through New England. During the following four years he was stationed, respectively, at Boston, Nantucket, and Lynn; at the latter two years. In the years 1815, 1816 he again labored in Boston, with Daniel Fillmore. This was a critical period in the history of Methodism in that city, the darkest day that ever lowered over it. After unparalleled struggles the society had succeeded, at large expense, in erecting the Bromfield Street chapel The effects of the recent war on business frustrated their fiscal plans, and left them with insupportable incumbrances. Eighteen thousand dollars, an enormous sum for the feeble society, must be raised within a limited time, or their property be forfeited. The embarrassment seemed inextricable, and as one board of trustees held both houses, it was the general anticipation that all the Methodists of Boston would be "turned out of doors" and left without a sanctuary. But at this critical juncture the generosity and business talent of Colonel Amos Binney, an energetic Methodist, together with the exertions of their pastors, provided deliverance for them. The former, who was conducting an extensive business, pledged himself that if the latter would sell on credit a number of pews, equivalent in value to the debt, he would accept the notes of the purchasers, allow them to be paid in work, according to their respective avocations, and pay down at once the necessary sum of eighteen thousand dollars. Hedding and Fillmore applied themselves to the task incessantly for several months, interceding with every one they met from whom they could expect assistance, and at last, by extraordinary exertions, procured the needed number of purchasers. The latter held a public meeting at the chapel, signed their notes, the money was munificently paid down by Colonel Binney, and the chapels of Methodism in Boston saved. And thus began the "pewed system" in American Methodism.

The next year Hedding was appointed to Portland District, and is so reported in the Minutes; but, owing to his enfeebled health, the appointment was changed to Portland city. The ensuing three years he was at Lynn (two years) and New London. In 1821 he took charge of Boston District, but his health was not sufficient for its great labors. The pulmonary and rheumatic afflictions he had contracted by exposures and excessive labors on Bridgewater Circuit, N. H., still affected him, and not a day or night passed from that time till his death, in which he was not reminded, by more or less pain, of those days of toil and suffering. He was compelled to retire from the district at the close of the year, and was returned to the city of Boston, where he labored two years, and in 1824 was elevated to the episcopacy. The remainder of his life will come under our attention elsewhere. The whole nation became his field. He stood firmly at his post in days of strife and peril, and aided in conducting the Church through exigencies which made the stoutest hearts tremble. From the time he commenced proclaiming the truth in the wilds of New Hampshire and Canada, he never wavered in the hope that God designed Methodism for enduring and universal triumphs.

Bishop Hedding, as remembered by most of the Church, was tall, stout, and dignified in person; his locks white with age, his face remarkable for its benign and intelligent expression, and his "tout ensemble" most venerable and impressive. His manners were marked by perfect simplicity and ease. In the pulpit he was always perspicuous, lucid, and instructive. His discourses were precisely arranged, delivered moderately, in a style of extreme plainness, and frequently with passages affecting pathos. He was distinguished for his accuracy in the doctrines and discipline of Methodism, the exact discrimination of his judgment, the extraordinary tenacity of his memory, the permanence of his friendships, and his invariable prudence.

The ecclesiastical year 1799-1800 included thirteen months, and had been attended with gratifying prosperity. Beauchamp and Snelling had spread the doctrines of Methodism through most of the towns of Cape Cod. Rhode Island, so tardy in the new movement, had received a strong impulse under the unremitted labors of Canfield, Hall, and Bishop. Instead of one circuit it now reported two; a new one had been formed, called Rhode Island. Considerable impression had been made on Connecticut, especially on the New London Circuit. The tireless Lawrence McCoombs, combating opposition on all hands, had succeeded in fortifying the yet feeble societies throughout that large circuit, and in planting several new ones. Ostrander had reaped some increase on Tolland Circuit. While in some places in Massachusetts a declension had occurred, in others extensive revivals had prevailed: Nantucket made its first returns of members, amounting to sixty-five; Daniel Brumley had witnessed the victories of the truth on Pittsfield Circuit; hundreds felt its power, and more than one hundred and eighty were received into the Church. Chesterfield, hitherto the solitary circuit of New Hampshire, had also enjoyed the time of refreshing under the labors of John Nichols. The hardy laborers in the field of Maine — Merritt, Soule, Brodhead, Heath, Finnegan, and others — had passed through severe struggles, but with their usual success. Their leader, Joshua Taylor, had been drummed out of Castine with tin kettles, and their cause had been attacked with not a little pugnacity from the pulpit and the press by their Calvinistic brethren. Some agitation was excited by a pamphlet entitled, "A brief Statement and Examination of the Sentiments of the Wesleyan Methodists, by Jonathan Ward, A. M." Taylor, however, published a timely reply in a pamphlet of seventy-six pages, which was written in a style perspicuous and lucid, in a temper bland and devout, and with a decisive logic. Ward, though manifestly foiled, returned to the attack under cover of a "Vindication of himself;" but a "Reply" from Taylor put an end to the controversy, and turned the advantage greatly to the persecuted Church.

In Vermont the fields were white unto the harvest, and the reapers thrust in the sickle and gathered a plenteous crop; hundreds, if not thousands, were converted, and nearly five hundred were gathered into the societies. The eccentric Lorenzo Dow had labored a short time with success on Essex Circuit, which extended through the northern part of the state into Canada. Seized by a sudden impression that it was his duty to cross the Atlantic and warn the Papists of Ireland, he erected a bush as a sail in a leaking canoe, and passing down the Missisque made his way to Montreal, whence he pursued his proposed voyage; but it was on this deserted circuit that Providence now raised up the youthful evangelist, Elijah Hedding, who took Dow's place, and was destined to bear the standard of the truth onward over the continent, and to be a burning and a shining light in the nation. Full of zeal and the energy of youth, he went round the circuit like a "flame of fire;" great numbers were converted, and more than a hundred and sixty were added to the classes. Vergennes Circuit was traveled this year by two indomitable men, Joseph Mitchell and Joseph Sawyer; it was a scene of great labors and equal trials, but they bore courageously the brunt of the battle. A reformation spread over the circuit, and about seventy were gathered into the classes. While Hedding, Mitchell, and Sawyer were thus spreading the cause west of the Green Mountains, Joseph Crawford and Elijah Chichester were extending it still more successfully east of them on the Vershire Circuit, where more than a hundred were added to the Church, besides hundreds who were converted, but entered other communions. Whitingham Circuit, which had been detached and extended from the northern part of Pittsfield Circuit at the beginning of the year, had prospered greatly under the labors of the good Peter Vannest; it made its first return of members, amounting to nearly one hundred. Only four years had passed since Nicholas Snethen traveled, the first itinerant, on the first circuit in Vermont; there were now nearly eleven hundred Methodists in the state. They had much more than trebled, nearly quadrupled, in two years.

There was at the end of the present ecclesiastical year the following number of Methodists in each New England state: Connecticut, 1,571; Rhode Island, 227; Massachusetts, 1,577; Maine, 1,197; New Hampshire, 171; Vermont, 1,096; total, 5,839.

We have reached the date of a new century, of the organization of the New England Conference by its separation from that of New York, and of the retirement of Lee, the chief hero of this part of our narrative, from the eastern field. We have seen him, solitary and friendless, begin his mission in New England by proclaiming "Ye must be born again," on the highway of Norwalk, June 17, 1789; eleven years have passed, years of vast labors, sore trials, of poverty and perplexity, yet of triumph. A host of great evangelists have entered the field: Roberts, Smith, Bloodgood, Mills, Hunt, Taylor, Mudge, Pickering, Ostrander, Mitchell, McCoombs, Brodhead, Merritt, Sabin, Bostwick, Beauchamp, Coate, Soule, Hedding, Kibby, Webb, and many others who were "mighty through God." They have confounded opposition, have preached the word "in demonstration of the Spirit and of power," from Fairfield in Connecticut to the furthest eastern settlement of Maine, and from Provincetown in Massachusetts to St. Alban's in Vermont. They have laid securely the foundations of Methodism in the New England states, and at the close of eleven years we behold it spread into bands, comprising nearly 50 preachers and more than 5,800 members, an average of about 120 to each preacher, and these members and preachers distributed over four districts and thirty-one circuits.

Availing myself of the minute documentary materials of the New England Church, I have endeavored to use, as fully as possible, her historic traditions of the last century, for these early facts are the best illustrations of the genius of Methodism. Their record is not disproportionate to her subsequent and important relations to the rest of the denomination, and most of her biographic characters, hitherto sketched, became actors in its general history; but hereafter we shall necessarily have to pass more rapidly over her local annals.

In the remainder of the period Asbury, accompanied by Whatcoat, made repeated tours through the Eastern States, penetrating to the Interior of Maine. Their visits were high festivals to the young Churches, and the Conference sessions, especially, were jubilees. Lee also, in the summer of 1800, reentered the great field for the last time, except a hasty visit some eight years later. It was his general leave-taking. He passed through its whole extent into Canada, and back by the Hudson, preaching farewell sermons amid the benedictions and tears of the people. His fellow-laborers and fellow-sufferers in the itinerancy parted with him, from place to place, with the deepest feeling, as from a hero who had led them to victory, and had secured for them the hard-fought field. During this circuitous and rapid journey his preaching averaged more than one sermon a day; he was continually occupied also in social prayer and counsels with the societies. He now leaves New England to pursue his evangelic course, with unabated heroism, in other sections. The foundations of Methodism had been laid by him in all the Eastern States; a large Conference had been organized; chapels had sprung up; powerful ministry was moving to and fro, proclaiming the "great salvation through extended but organized circuits, and thousands of converts were recorded on the roll of the Church. A great work had been achieved, and a great man had left his stamp upon the ecclesiastical history of all New England. His name, until recently, has been but little noted beyond the pale of his own denomination; but his instrumentality is developing broader and broader results as time elapses, and the future ecclesiastical historian of these Eastern States will place him among the foremost men of their religious annals.

The remaining four years were abundant in itinerant reinforcements; but most of them, with others heretofore omitted, will more conveniently come under notice in future parts of our narrative: Daniel Fidler, a laborer from Virginia and the Redstone country, to Nova Scotia, and at last a patriarch of the New Jersey Conference; Ebenezer F. Newhall, an apostle of those memorable times; Philip Munger and Asa Heath, veterans of Maine Conference; Asa Kent, a patriarch of Providence Conference, and indeed of all New England, still remembered by many for the sanctity of his life, his small stature, halting gait, wenned neck, and grave aspect, a man without a particle of humor, yet looked upon by his brethren, many of the best of whom were radiant with it, with kindliness, though not unmixed with apparent wonder and perplexity; Samuel Hillman, long a hard worker in Maine; Oliver Beale, a saint in the calendar of the Church; and many others equally worthy.

Thomas Branch was now a faithful and eminent itinerant, whose health broke down at last under the severities of the climate. He proposed to go to the southwest, and labor, while his dwindling strength should last, in the Western Conference, the only Conference then beyond the Alleghenies. Besides the various choice of climate which this immense field afforded, there was, to the devoted mind of Branch, an heroic if not romantic attraction in its adventurous life, and the triumph with which the itinerant ministry was prevailing in its wildernesses. He took leave of his Eastern brethren in much debility, and departed on horseback, with the usual itinerant accompaniment, the saddlebags for his few books and rations, to penetrate through the forests to Marietta, on the Ohio. He never arrived, however. On passing from the western wilds of New York, down toward Ohio, along the southern shore of Lake Erie, he disappeared. News came at last that he had died somewhere among the log-cabins in the then remote forest of the northwestern angle of Pennsylvania; but even this vague information reached not most of those to whom he was dear in New England till fifteen years later, when one of his old fellow-laborers at the East, who had, meanwhile, been elevated to the episcopacy, was pursuing his official visitations at the West, and accidentally discovering the place of his decease, sent home for publication information of his fate. [16] "He fell," wrote his friend, "in the wilderness, on his way to this country, in the month of June, 1812. His grave is in the woods, in the state of Pennsylvania, near the shore of Lake Erie, between the states of New York and Ohio. As I came through that part of the country I made inquiry respecting the sickness, death, and burial of our once beloved fellow-laborer in the cause of Christ. An intelligent friend, who said he had frequently visited and watched with him in his last sickness, and attended his funeral, gave me, in substance, the following circumstances. When he came into the neighborhood where he died it was a new settlement, where there was no Methodist society, and but few professors of religion of any name, he preached on a Sabbath, and at the close of the service stated to the strangers that he was on a journey, that he was ill, and unable to proceed, and desired that some one would entertain him till he should recover his strength sufficiently to pursue his journey. There was a long time of silence in the congregation. At last one man came forward and invited him home. At that house he lingered many weeks, and finally expired. The accommodations were poor for a sick man — a small log-house, containing a large family, consisting in part of small children; but doubtless it was the best the place could afford. In his sickness (which was a pulmonary consumption) his sufferings were severe but his patience and his religious consolations were great also. He frequently preached, prayed, and exhorted, sitting on his bed, when he was unable to go out, or even to stand. And so he continued laboring for the salvation of men while his strength would permit, and rejoicing in the Lord to the hour of his death. The above-named eye and ear witness informed me that he frequently said to him, 'It is an inscrutable providence that brought me here to die in this wilderness.' 'But,' said the witness, 'that providence was explained after his death; for, through the instrumentality of his labors, his patience, fortitude, and religious joys in his sickness, a glorious revival of religion shortly after took place, a goodly number of souls were converted to God, other preachers were invited to the place, and a large Methodist society was organized after his death.' That society continues to prosper, and they-have now a good house for worship. After the soul of our brother had gone to heaven, his body was conveyed to the grave on a sled, drawn by oxen. The corpse was carried to a log building in the woods, called a meeting-house; but the proprietors denied admittance, and the funeral solemnities were performed without. As I came through the woodland in company with a preacher, having been informed where the place of his interment was, leaving our horse and carriage by the road, we walked some rods into the forest, and found the old log meeting-house, which had refused the stranger the rites of a funeral; but it was partly fallen, and forsaken. Then following a narrow path some distance further through the woods, we came to a small opening, which appeared to have been cleared of the wood for a habitation for the dead. After walking and looking some time, a decent stone, near one corner of the yard, under the shade of the thick-set, tall forest, informed us where the body of our dear departed friend had been laid. A large oak tree had fallen, and lay across two of the adjoining tenants of that lonely place. We kneeled, prayed, and left the quiet spot, in joyful hope of meeting our brother again at the resurrection of the just."

Thomas Branch was an able preacher. His old fellow-laborers spoke of him, in their Conference obituary, with unwonted emphasis: "An Israelite indeed, in life, and in death. Who ever saw him without the gravity and sincerity of a Christian minister? always apparently collected and recollected, a child of affliction, and a son of resignation; how loved and honored of God and men! For several years a member of our connection, and secretary of the New England Conference. Rest, rest, weary dust! Rest, weary spirit, with the Father of spirits, and live forever!"

Martin Ruter, who was born in Sutton, Mass., in 1785, but sleeps in a missionary grave on the banks of the Brazos, in Texas, entered the eastern itinerant ranks in 1801, called into them by Brodhead. He was one of the noblest sons of New England, a good debater and writer, an able preacher, a leader of the educational interests of the denomination in the East and in the West, one of its best representative characters for many years, and at last a pioneer evangelist on its farthest frontier. We shall meet him often hereafter.

Laban Clark also appears on the Conference roll, for the first time, in 1801. Born in Haverhill, N. H., in 1778, and early removing to Vermont, he heard some of the first evangelists who penetrated the latter state, and became a Methodist in 1799. In 1800 he was preaching about his neighborhood with John Langdon, a local preacher, and one of the principal founders of the Church in Vermont. Brodhead who, the same year, had pressed Ruter into the itinerant service, now summoned out Clark, and thus presented to the Church two of its most important public men. Clark still lives, after more than sixty years of invaluable services, which will bring him often before us; his life, like that of Ruter, has been so extensively identified with the general history of the Church as not to admit of its individualization here. A man of vigorous physical health, of strong and genial mind, of great practical capacity, of never-wavering enthusiasm for his Church and all its important enterprises, a living history of it for more than threescore years, and an able preacher, notwithstanding a marked vocal defect, he has been prominent among its most exponent characters.

These remaining four years were eventful to the Church all over the Eastern States. They began with the first session of the New England Conference, as a distinct organized body, at Lynn, Mass., July 8, 1800. Revivals prevailed generally, greatly increasing the congregations and societies, The itinerancy was not only largely recruited, but in a few places tested by severe persecutions. Elijah R. Sabin was mobbed on Needham Circuit, where he preached in the open air. Some of his brethren, at the Conference, would moderate his zeal; but Asbury approved him, affirming that "this is the way Methodist preachers began, and we need warm hearts to carry the work forward." The Boston Methodists suffered much from the rabble, who besieged their humble temple, begun on Hanover Avenue (then known as Methodist Alley) in 1795, but not completed till 1800, after which time, say its old records, "the troubled and persecuted society found, in some degree; rest to their souls;" it was yet only, however, in "some degree." They had still many a sore conflict before cultivated Boston properly recognized them. Hibbard fought his way through intolerable trials on Granville Circuit. He speaks of twenty-six sermons a month as "moderate labor," and only complains when he had twelve appointments a week, and "no rest week in which to go home and visit his family." "Some days," he says, "when riding to my appointments, I was almost all the way in tears, often inquiring of the Lord, in ejaculatory prayers, 'What can I do to save these souls from delusion?' Some threw stones at me, and some set their dogs on me as I rode along; but the Lord defended me. I never had a stone to hit me, nor a dog to bite me. Some threatened to whip me; but I escaped all. I heard of many threats, but none laid hands on me."

In Lancaster, Vt., Langdon, Clark, and Crawford were assailed by the mob. The ruffians cowered before the courage of Langdon, who was a gigantic and brave man; but they carried off Crawford, and ducked him in the river, with huzzas. In this same state, now so tolerant and so Methodistic, Washburn had similar trials, though better escapes. "I have had," he says, "stones and snowballs cast at me in volleys. I have had great dogs sent after me, to frighten my horse, as I was peacefully passing through small villages; but I was never harmed by any of them. I have been saluted with the sound of 'glory, hosanna, amen, halleluiah!' mixed with oaths and profanity. If I turned my horse to ride toward them, they would show their want of confidence, both in their master, and in themselves, by scattering and fleeing like base cowards." Even in Middletown, Conn., (now the seat of their university,) the Methodists suffered such persecutions. Stocking, of Glastenbury, long a venerated local preacher, writes: "I have been stoned, and my life put in jeopardy, by the mass mob. Open persecution continued there until put down by the strong arm of the law. Thanks to God, Middletown is renovated!" Ostrander, reporting a great revival there in 1802, says: "The spirit of persecution is much awake. The houses where we assemble are frequently stoned, and the windows broken to pieces; but all this does not move the young converts, who are as bold as lions." [17]

Kibby was threatened with violence in Marblehead, and advised to leave the town, but stood his ground successfully. The Methodists of those days were in many places persecuted even to fines, the seizure of their goods, and, sometimes, imprisonment, by the dominant Church. They were denounced from the pulpits, maltreated in the courts, interrupted in the course of their sermons with charges of heresy, and assailed in the streets by the rabble. Washburn, as we have seen, was hooted through the villages; Hedding cursed with outcries on the highway; Dow's nose was publicly wrung; Sabin was knocked down, and struck on the head, to the peril of his life, with the butt of a gun; Wood was horsewhipped; Christie, summoned out of bed to answer to a charge of violating the laws, by marrying a couple of his people; Willard, wounded in the eye by a blow, the effect of which was seen through his life; Mudge, denied the rights of a clergyman, and arranged before the magistrate for assuming them; Kibby, stoned while preaching, and Taylor drummed out of town. It requires more determination to endure such grievances than to meet graver trials; but the early Methodist itinerants were proof against both.

With all its poverty and persecutions the Church prevailed surprisingly during this period. There were, at its close, more than ten thousand Methodists in New England. [18] It had about fifty circuits, and more than eighty itinerants. It had gained since 1796 more than seven thousand five hundred members, twenty-nine circuits, and fifty-seven preachers.

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ENDNOTES

1 Lee's Mem., chap. 14.

2 Lee's His. of Meth., anno 1797.

3 Asbury's Journals, anno 1797.

4 Letter to the author.

5 Lee's History, anno 1798.

7 Lee's Mem., p. 240. Vermont had made no returns previous to this Conference.

7 Ibid.

8 Meth. Mag., 1825.

9 Meth. Mag, 1825.

10 Letter to the author.

11 Letter to the author.

12 Letter to the author.

13 Minutes, 1865.

14 Letter to the writer.

15 Letter of Hedding to the author.

16 Bishop Hedding, to whom I am indebted for these facts, and who published them in the Zion's Herald of 1826.

17 Memorials of Methodism in the Eastern States. Second series, p. 196. New York, 1854.

18 Including those who were on New York circuits which reached into the Eastern States.

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