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CORNELL
UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

 

 

 

 

 
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THE

NEW JERSEY

CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

CONTAINING

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES

OF ALL ITs
DECEASED MEMBERS,

INCLUDING THOSE WHO HAVE DIED IN THE

NEWARK CONFERENCE

“THE RIGHTEOUS SHALL BE IN EVERLASTING REMEMBRANCE.”

PUBLISHED BY ORDER OF THE OONFERENCES.

PHILADELPHIA :
PERKINPINE & HIGGINS,
No. 56 NORTH FOURTH STREET.

1865.
 

‘ if
Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by
PERKINPINE & HIGGINS,

In the Clerx’s Office of the District Court for the Eastern District
of Pennsylvania.

 

WESTOOTT & THOMSON, STEREOTYPERS, SHERMAN & CO,, PRINTERS.
CONTENTS.

BUBJEOTS.
+ THOMAS MORRELL... .sececsseseeee

Rev. JAMES BUCKLEY.......ccssseseeeee
Rev. JAMES CAMPBELL. ....ssesecssseee

Rev. THOMAS WARE.....secscsersceeenes

. JAMES Moore...
Rev. Benyamin Benson...
Rev. JoHN BUCKLEY.......scceessesceeee
Rev. WILLIAM BARKER.......cccseseenes
Rev. JosepH B. M‘KEEvVER...........
Rev. W1ILiiam LUMMIS.........seeeeeee
Rev. WesLey C. HUDSON...........06-
Rev.

Rev. DANIEL PARRISH.....cssscsesecees

Lewis T. Maps....

  

Rev. THomas G. STEWART.........0006
Rev. ViIncENT SHEPHERD........000068
Rev. JOHN WALKER.......sseseeecereeere
Rev. RICHARD LANNING.......seeeeeeee
Rev. WiLu1aAM R. RoGERS..........000

Rev. Cuartzs T. Forp.

  

Rev. Davip Barrine.
Rey. PETER VANNEST........cs0csseeeeee

Rev. Toomas CHRISTOPHER...........

 

 

  

 

  
  

 

  

AUTHORS. PAGE.
Rev. G. R. Smyder......cccsseees 9
Rev. J. B. Dobbins...... sieeipmiie: 23
Rev. J. B. Dobbins.............006 25

«de By. DORN Sis yea isaveswonnes 27

+ Ga By Sayer ve sovsencmirus 49

. E. H. Stokes... 61

. §. ¥. Monroe. 79
Ai Vis Bives scsiionevecarsessvsiiseepevess 81
Rev. G. R. Snyder......c...sceeeeee 86
Miss Harriet B. M‘Keever...... 94
Rev. G. R. Smyder......ccececseeeee 101
Bev Bi. Es Bie iss cussseceunneucex 110
Rev. A. E. Ballard... . 116
Rev. G. R. Snyder... . 124
Rev. 8. Y. Monroe we, 188
Rey. A. E. Ballard.........ccseeee 147
Rev. 8. ¥. Monroe.......ccseceesees 150
Rev. E. H. Stokes......cc.secceeees 157
Rev. Bic BL, BOR GS isnaanteacenies 162
Rey. E. H. Stokes... 167
Rev. A. E. Ballard. 183
Rev. J. B. Dobbins.............066 192
Rev. G. R. Smyder.......sseeseeeeee 206
 

   

  
  

   

 
  

   

 

 

4 CONTENTS.

SUBJECTS. AUTHORS. PAGE.
Rev. Mutrorp Day........ Neendslteuate Rev. A. HE. Ballard.......csseeseses 212
Rev. ZERUBBABEL GASKILL........... Rey. G. R. Snyder....... 222
Rev. JoHN F. CROUCH... css ceeeee Rey. A. E. Ballard... 228
Rev. Wituiam Smira.... Rev. G. R. Snyder. 237
Kev. Coarues Pirwan, D. D.......... Revs Ee He Stokes sssienpicsmvivess 242
Rev. Joun P. M‘CoRMICK.........00065 Rey. E. H. Stokes.......:cc0ceeeees 273
Rev. ABRAHAM GEARHART..........668 Rey. G. R. Snyder.........csceseee 281
Rev. James H. PRIMROSE..........0004 Rev. J. B. Dobbins........ecceseeee 287
Rev. CURTIS TALLEY.......:0c0cceeeeeee Rev. J.D. Crame;, De Dicccssrsnsses 290
Rev. IsRaun 8. CorBIT........ccseeeeees Rev. A. H. Ballard............:.660 295
Rev. Wintram V. Darrow... Rev. E. H. Stokes.. 307
Rev. Icnazop B. CARMICHAEL. Rey. E. H. Stokes.. + 310
Rev. Joun K. Saaw......... aienuiainaiiws Rey. A. EB. Ballard.........cccceseee 313
Rev. RoBert LUTTON......0c0sceceeeeees Rev. E. H. Stokes...........cccceee 335
Rev. GEORGE LANE... sessseesseeneees Rev. J. B. Dobbins.............00. 345
Rev. THomas N&AL........ spe eanbawedains Rev. R. J. Andrews...... geal 355
Rev. EDWARD STOUT voxcesenceavedivens Rev. E. H. Stokes........cccceeeeee
Rev. Epwarp SANDERS... Rev. A. E. Ballard...... ccc
Rev. THomas M‘CarrROLt... Thomas M‘Carroll, Jr.. ,
Rev. ToHomas W. PEARSON........cc008 Rev. J. L. G@. M‘Kown........... 389
Rev. Dayton F. RBEep.....seeeereee Rev. E. H. Stokes..............0000
Rov. Joserah J. HANLY.....cccccsssenee Rey. G. R. Snyder...
Rev. Richarp W. Petuersrivgr... Rev. HE. H. Stokes............cccce
Rev, MANNING PORCH: cscessvovenee Rev. L. R. Dunn.......... eee
Rev. Jonn L. Lenwart...... Rev. A. E. Ballard..........ccccee
Rey. SYLVESTER ARMSTRONG.. Rev. G. R. Snyder....
Reve J SNES: LONG sens aerteyeawes Rev. A. E. Ballard...
Rev. George W.BatcHeLtper,A.M. Rev. E. H. Stokes.......c.ceccecees
Rev. Wintiam M. Burrovaas........ Rev. G. R. Snyder...ccceesseee 500
Rey. WrsLtey RoBERTSON..........45 Rev. EH. H. Stokes 506
TO THE READER.

A FEw words of explanation are appropriate in con-
nection with this volume.

At the session of the New Jersey Annual Conference
of the Methodist Episcopal Church, held at Salem,
March, 1860; in view of the large number of honored
members of this body who had died in the triumphs of
the Christian faith, since its organization, Rev. George
Hughes offered resolutions, which were unanimously
adopted, that the deeds of these fathers and brethren
demand at our hands a fuller recognition, and more en-
during memorial than is found in the Annual Minutes.

A committee of five was immediately appointed to
prepare and publish a volume which would give to these
men a proper and permanent record.

Similar resolutions were passed the same year, by
the Newark Conference, with the view of incorporating
in the work biographies of those ministers who had
died within their bounds.

The hope of a speedy and successful issue in this in-
5
6 TO THE READER.

teresting enterprise was entertained, but difficulties of
various kinds arising, little progress was made.

The present year, however, seemed auspicious, and
the work is now accomplished.

The labor of collecting materials has been arduous,
and often embarrassing. Still, many of the memoirs are
full, and there was matter for making them larger, but
its further use was prevented for want of space.

In other cases, however, we have but meagre sketches.
This is regretted, but the fault is not ours. Informa-
tion was sought, at different times, through the Chris-
tian Advocate and Journal; large numbers of private
letters were written, some of them in the most beseech-
ing tones, and numerous personal inquiries were made,
without success, and the conclusion reached was, that
facts and incidents, such as were sought, did not exist,
or, if they did, the length of time since their occur-
rence, the vagueness of memory, and, possibly, in some
instances, inattention to these calls, left such facts be-
yond our reach.

In these instances, the materials furnished by the
printed Minutes have been used, and the best possible
record for these brethren made.

Still, we shall be greatly disappointed if the reader
does not find an intensely interesting book.

It records the toils and triumphs of fifty-three devout

and earnest men, al] familiar to New Jersey Methodism,
TO THE READER. 7

the aggregate of whose ministerial labors is over one
thousand years.

What they suffered and what they accomplished, as
far as known to us, is here set down in unvarnished
narratives, and had they all kept records of their lives,
the volume would have been still more interesting and
complete.

The committee is under lasting obligations to several
families of these honored fathers and brethren, for the
use of valuable papers. To them, and all others, who
have kindly assisted in this work, sincerest thanks are
tendered. It would afford pleasure, could the names of
all such be given, but as the number is large, this
general acknowledgment must be sufficient.

The volume is published with the approval of the
New Jersey and Newark Annual Conference, but as all
the members of these bodies could not possibly examine
the manuscript, the committee alone must be responsi-
ble for the sentiments which the book contains.

The arrangement of the subjects, as they stand in
the volume, is according to the chronological order in
which the deaths occurred.

The work, as here presented, while it has involved a
vast amount of anxiety and toil, has also given rise to
many pleasant memories; and it is earnestly hoped, it
will prove, not only a source of spiritual profit to the
reader, but will also be what the Conferences desired,
8 TO THE READER.

“a fuller recognition, and more enduring memorial of
the noble achievements of our honored fathers and
brethren who have finished their course on earth.”

Our labors, which have been gratuitously, yet cheer-
fully rendered, are closed.

May the benedictions of the blessed rest upon the
readers of this book, until readers and writers shall greet
the sainted men whose lives are here recorded, in our
Father’s house above.

Yours in Christian fellowship,

8S. Y. Monroz,

HK. H. Sroxss,

A. E. Batuarp,

G. R. Snypzr,

J. B. Dozsins,
Conference Committee.
THE

NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

REV. THOMAS MORRELL.

Amonc the honored names that adorn the ministerial list of
the M. E. Church only a few are entitled to greater prominence
than that of Thomas Morrell. Very few can more safely be set
forth as examples for imitation, or reproduced in the hearts and
lives of succeeding generations. His fallen mantle may well be
coveted by his sons in the ministry. And if ‘‘ biography teaches
history by example,’’ that of such a man clothes its lessons with
a halo of light, and invests them with an evil restraining and
good stimulating impulse.

He was born in the city of New York, Nov. 22, 1747, his
parents having formerly resided at Newtown, Long Island. In
1772 the family settled in Elizabethtown, N. J. Jonathan Mor-
rell, the father of Thomas, was a man of sterling character and
worth. His earthly pilgrimage covered eighty years, one half
of which long life was adorned by a Christian profession. This
places his conversion about 1765, seven years prior to his re-
moval to N. J. But when he joined the church or what posi-
tions in it he occupied, are not now known. But evidently he
was a leader in Israel, for ‘‘ when the circuit preachers were not
present, he would exhort the people, sometimes taking a text,
and pray with them.”” He died in Sept. 1805, in full hope of a
blissful immortality.

Mrs. Morrell, the mother of Thomas, held a prominent con-
nection with early Methodism in America. She was converted

9
10 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

under the ministry of Philip Embury, the pioneer American
Methodist preacher, was a member of the first class in old
John St. N. Y., and to the end of life was an eminent Christian
and a fast friend of the Church. When she went to Hlizabeth-
town there were no Methodists in the place, and she joined the
Presbyterian Church. In 1785, when the first class was formed
in the place, she rejoined the people of her choice. These facts
help us to estimate the qualities of her piety and integrity. She
had the moral courage to attend the meetings of the “‘ sect
everywhere spoken against,’ and when converted through their
instrumentality, to cast in her lot among them. Then when
placed beyond the reach of this people, she was too devout and
liberal to remain without Christian communion. Nor was this
change prompted by a mere desire to go with the multitude,
regardless of duty or principle. From this reproach she stands
nobly vindicated, by a return to her chosen people at the earliest
opportunity. In doing this she left the popular and associated
with the despised, and that too when pecuniary interests were
thereby jeoparded, for her husband was a merchant. Thus to
obey conscience against both popular favor and interest, is to
display true moral heroism. Dr. Murray says:—‘‘She lived a
pious and exemplary life, and died on the 30th of July, 1796, in
the sixty-eighth year of her age.”’

Thomas was a military, before he was a Christian soldier.
Of his early life, we have no specific information. From all that
appears he was an exemplary youth. He was employed in his
father’s store, till the stirring events of the Revolution called
him out. The following account of his military career is con-
densed from Rey. Dr. Murray’ sinteresting narrative in ‘‘ Sprague’s
Annals.’’ The battle of Lexington led to the formation of a
company of Militia in Elizabethtown, of which he was elected
Captain. His first adventure was important and successful. A
British transport was said to be on the coast, and four armed
boats were sent to capture her. She was overhauled about forty
miles from Sandy Hook. The men being concealed, the boats
were mistaken for pilot or fishing boats. Two of them outsailing
the others and reaching the ship, the men suddenly emerged,
rushed on deck and effected her capture without the loss of a
THOMAS MORRELL. 11

man or scarcely any show of resistance. She proved to be the
‘*Green Mountain Valley,’’ with twelve guns manned by forty
men, and laden with provisions for the British army. Capt.
Morrell had charge of one of the successful boats. This was in
the Summer of 1775.

A squad of two hundred men, of which he was second in com-
mand, were stationed for a time, on Staten Island, in order to
make observations and awe the tories. And the next Spring,
he superintended the building of ‘‘Stockade Fort’’ at Elizabeth-
town Point, a breastwork of a mile in length, intended to keep
the enemy from landing. About this time, some powder,
passing from Maryland and Pennsylvania to Gen. Washington
at Boston, had to pass through a hostile population before
reaching a vessel on the North River. Maj. Barber and Capts.
Morrell and Lyon, placed it in rum hogsheads, and succeeded
in delivering it. This was regarded an expedition of great in-
trepidity.

In June 1776 he received a Captain’s commission from the
Continental Congress, then in session at Trenton, with directions
to enlist a company of seventy-five five months’ men, and report
to Gen. Washington in New York. He convened two com-
panies of Militia, and addressed them in a speech of such
patriotism and power that in five minutes, more than the re-
quired number offered their names. ‘‘ With great difficulty and
at great private expense, this company was equipped and
reported in New York by the 10th of July.”” It was soon
ordered to Long Island, as part of the New Jersey Brigade, com-
manded by Gen. Heard of Woodbridge. On the fatal 27th of
August, they were in advance of the main army on the heights
of Flatbush, and received the first fire of the British. They
were badly cut to pieces, and he fell pierced by two balls. One
passed through his body above the lungs, fracturing his shoulder
blade, and the other through his hand. Hailing the advancing
commander of the enemy, he asked to be removed, as he was
badly wounded. The response came in a volley of bullets, which
God seems to have turned aside. He feigned death, and was
left, but was soon found and cared for by a young volunteer.
He was carefully conveyed to New York, thence carried by six
12 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

soldiers to his father’s, and afterward, as a matter of safety,.
taken to Rev. Jonathan Elmer’s at New Providence. By God’s
blessing upon medical skill and kind attentions, he finally re-
covered.

So highly were his soldierly qualities appreciated, that he was
appointed a Major in the 4th New Jersey Brigade, before his
wounds were healed. He was in the battle of Brandywine,
Sept. 11, 1777, said to have been one of the hottest engage-
ments of the war. ‘He belonged to the division which guarded
the passage of Chadd’s Ford with great gallantry, but which
eventually gave way under the furious assault of Knyphausen.
In this engagement the Regiment of Maj. Morrell suffered most
severely.”’

His health was now rapidly declining, but his ardor in the
cause kept him in the field. He marched with the army to the
attack of Germantown. The battle began with the dawn of
Nov. 4th, and raged with great fury nearly all day. He was in.
the heat of the contest, which, though not entirely successful,
gained unfading laurels for Washington’s army. With it dates
the close of the Major’s military career, his failing health com-
pelling him to retire. To this, Washington, after a long inter-
view, reluctantly consented, regretting the loss of so skillful and
brave an officer. Over two and a half years had elapsed since
the first battle for American freedom, during most of which time
he had either been in active service or laid aside by wounds
received in battle. Nor did he now leave the service from choice,
but necessity.

He was now thirty years old, and though a true patriot, a
brave soldier, and a skillful officer, he was not a Christian. He
returned from the army to the home and business of his father,
but did not seek religion till eight years later. He was awakened,
October, 1775, under a sermon by Rev. John Hagerty, but was
not converted till the following March, when, he says, ‘‘I re-
ceived the witness of God’s Spirit to my acceptance.’’ This
was about the time the Society was first formed in Elizabeth-
town, of which, probably, he was one of the original members.
And our Church in that city is largely indebted to his long-
continued and eminent services for its present prominent position.
THOMAS MORRELL. 13

He had been prompt to respond to the call of his country at
an earlier day, and honorable scars testified to his patriotism
and bravery. Nor was he less prompt now that the Master and
the Church called. He was licensed as a local preacher, in
about three months after his conversion. He says, ‘‘In June,
1786, I began to preach as a local preacher in Elizabethtown,
and several parts of that circuit. In March, 1787, I began to
ride as a traveling preacher, and rode on Elizabethtown circuit
with Robert Cloud. At the Conference in New York, in
October, 1788, I was ordained deacon, and appointed to Trenton
circuit with John Merrick and Jethro Johnson. At the June
Conference in New York, 1789, was ordained an elder, and ap-
pointed to that city with brother Cloud, who was with me twelve
months, and brother Merrick four.’’ The present rule, requiring
a course of study, two years’ probation before receiving orders,
and two years afterward, before graduating to the full ministry,
was not then in force. And thé brief period between his con-
version, admission to orders, and appointment to New York
city, shows how highly his abilities were appreciated at the be-
ginning of his career.

We are not informed what success cident his labors on
Elizabethtown and Trenton circuits, but not so as it regards
New York. When he began his labors there, some twenty
years had elapsed since the erection of the Church on John St.
There had been time enough since peace was restored to bring a
return of prosperity. The need of a second Church had been
felt for some time. After much deliberation by the laity and the
Conference, he received the following remarkable paper, signed
by Bishops Coke and Asbury. ‘‘Thomas Morrell is appointed
and ordered by the bishops and Conference to raise a sub-
scription in the City of New York, in order to erect a new
Church, on a convenient spot in the North, or North-east part
of the city; and shall call to his assistance any person or persons
recommended by the bishops or Conference, or in their absence,
any person he shall judge proper. The bishops and Conference
do also order that all the subscriptions and collections that shall
be raised from time to time in the new Church, when erected,
shall be applied for the benefit, support, and interests of the
14 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

new Church. And they do also give Thomas Morrell authority
to appoint trustees for the said new Church.”’

This significant document shows to what extent authority was
then exercised, the contrast between then and now, in the man-
ner of doing such things, and also the great confidence reposed
in the capacity, integrity and energy of Mr. Morrell. He was
not only appointed, but ordered to secure the erection of a new
church. No possibility of failure is recognized, and no door left
open for convenient retreat. (The whole responsibility was thrust
upon him, with the sole exception of a reserved right to interfere,
which seems never to have been exercised. He was to appoint
trustees and call in such aid as he deemed necessary. ‘Then,
with the council of such advisers as he chose to gather around
him, was to determine the site, size, materials, architecture,
cost, everything in regard toit, and, also, procure the funds. He
had been in the itinerancy but two years and three months,
and in the church but a little over three years. Does our history
as a church furnish a similar instance? But the extent of the
case is not yet reached. Serious division of feeling and conse-
quent opposition and difficulty had to be encountered. In view
of this, he applied to Bishop Asbury, and received the following
reply :

‘‘My very Dear Broruer.—It is impossible for me to give
you any decided advice in the critical circumstances of your case,
and the fickle tempers, you have todeal with, which may tack and
change more frequently than the wind. In brief I advise you to
do the best you can, but build the house. I will cancel your obli-
gation to the Conference and myself. I wish you to be under no
shackles on our side. I would not have you outdone.’ In
another letter he says, ‘‘O brother, piety, patience, courage,
zeal and industry will carry you through!’’ The following is from
Dr. Coke, and speaks for itself.

“ On Boarp THE UNION, NEAR IRELAND, Jume 6, 1789.

“‘My very Dear Broruer:—I beg your pardon for my great
forgetfulness in not leaving behind an address in behalf of the
new church we are going to buildin New York. I hope you
will be able to accomplish that important undertaking. Fear
not, thou worm Jacob ; for thy Redeemer isthe Lord of hosts, ete,’’
THOMAS MORRELL. 15

The nature of these troubles is only hinted at, nor need they
be exhumed from the burial time has afforded. But evidently
there was much friction to retard the movement, and much
motive power required to overcome it. This the bishop fully
recognized, and yet the only advice he ventured to give, was,
‘‘ Build the house.’’ This was speedily accomplished. Rev. J.
B. Wakeley says, ‘‘ On the 11th of August, 1789, just two months
and eleven days after the Conference ordered Mr. Morrell to
build the church, the first stone of the foundation was laid,
and it proceeded with such rapidity that it was completely en-
closed, floors laid and ceiled, by the 8th of November, when it
was dedicated.’’ Referring to its completion, the Bishop drops
other significant hints:

““My Dear Broruer, I am pleased you have made out so
wonderfully. I can figure to my own mind the difficulties you
have had to struggle with. The hints you gave meas to the
management of temporalities are very just. The members are
welcome to act, but who are to appoint them, is the question.
I find it hard if a preacher cannot draw a collection for 2 Mission
or Conference or Station without complaint. I have nothing at
all to complain of, and it would have been impossible to have
carried your great design into execution without your method.”

It was located on the site of the present Forsyth St. Church,
then called Second St. God approbated the enterprize, not only
by crowning the efforts of its friends with success, but also by a
speedy outpouring of the Holy Spirit. Mr. Morrell says, ‘‘ On
the 4th of this month (January, 1790) a revival began in the
prayer-meeting, and on the 12th it broke out inthe Church, and
continued, with some small intermissions, till the latter end of
February. In this time about two hundred joined the society:
perhaps about four hundred were converted in about eight weeks.
Many of these joined afterward, and from this revival we may date
the prosperity of our Church in New York. Very few of them
fell away.”

This edifice stood till 1833, when it gave place to the spacious
building that now occupies the same site. As Mr. Morrell had
dedicated the former, he was invited to perform the same service
16 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

at the opening of the latter. But, being in his eighty-seventh
year, his infirmities led him to decline.

He continued in the city two years and five months, and then
returned to it after a brief absence. During this time the mem-
bership increased from three hundred to upwards of six hundred
in the two Churches. But his toils were arduous and wearing as
well as successful.

In the Fall of 1791, he took a tour for health, with Bishop
Asbury. After a brief halt at his father’s, they proceeded by
land to Charleston, 8. C., where he was stationed till the follow-
ing June. ‘‘Secession’’ is no modern invention in that famed
city. A Mr. Hammett, who had been stationed there, became
a ‘‘disturber of Israel.’’? He had bitterly attacked the bishop,
seceded from the Church, and so drawn the members with him,
that only the blacks and a few whites, were left as sheep without
a shepherd. Mr. Morrell so answered his attack on the bishop,
and vindicated the Church, that a large portion of the seceders
saw their mistake and returned to the forsaken fold. The de-
fence was published, and is said to have been masterly and tri-
umphant. Having gained much invigoration, and to a great
extent quieted the disturbed elements in that city, he returned
to New York by sea.

He resumed his labors in June, 1792, and remained till March,
1794. The following entry refers to the yellow fever, which
raged in Philadelphia from August to October, 1793, with such
fury that four thousand persons fell victims to its ravages.
‘‘Sept. 26th there was a day of fasting and prayer, held in New
York, in every Church. Such a solemn time was never seen in
the city. The churches were all crowded. Ours (the new Church)
was not only full, and the house adjacent, but also the burying
yard. Ipreached from Jonah iii. 5, ‘Sothe people of Nineveh be-
lieved God and proclaimed a fast,’ &. It was a most solemn
season indeed. The occasion of the fast was to entreat the Lord
to put a stop to the malignant fever in Philadelphia. We had
prayers at six and preaching at ten A. M., and preaching at
three and six P. M.”’ At this time, Rev. Freeborn Garrettson
was stationed in Philadelphia, and in March, 1794, they ex-
changed places. He says,—‘‘On Friday, 28th, I left the city
THOMAS MORRELL. 17

and came to Elizabethtown, having been stationed in York
from June, 1789, to March, 1794, near five years:’’ (this included
the trip south.) ‘‘Blessed be God for the gracious assistance he
gave me in preaching to that kind and loving people, and I
desire to be humbled under a sense of God’s goodness to me in
owning and blessing my labors to them. When I entered upon
my station there, I found about three hundred members, and
when I left them about eight hundred and fifty. This great
work has God wrought, and the glory be ascribed to him.’’ So
the increase, after he returned from the South, was about two
hundred and fifty.

He was prostrated, Dec. 1, 1794, by a severe attack of inflam-
matory fever. After this he only preached five times in Phila-
delphia. His recovery was considered doubtful for a long time.
This near approach to eternity led to close heart-searching, and
the recording of the following solemn vows in case of recovery :

“1. Not to abandon the ministry.

“2. To be more watchful than formerly.

‘*3. To be more charitable according to ability.

‘4, Never to omit private prayer three times a day.”’

Truly, as Deity is unveiled, the world and self sink, in our es-
timation! April 21, slightly over a year after going to the city,
and nearly five months after he was prostrated, he went to his
father’s, where he remained in feeble health till May, 1799. At
this date he began a two years’ term in Baltimore. The labors
of himself and colleagues there were largely owned of God. At
the beginning of the second year, the General Conference sat in
the city, during which a gracious revival occurred. Over one
hundred were converted before its close, and the work spread till
four hundred were added to the church.

Mr. Wakeley says, ‘‘ In consequence of ill health he located in
1801, but consented, at the earnest request of Bishop Asbury,
to be stationed in New York in 1802, where he remained till
1804.” But his name in the minutes is connected with New
York for 1801-1803. Which is in error I have not the means
of determining, not having his private papers. Of the immedi-
ate fruits of this last term, we are not advised. But Methodism
in that city is largely indebted, under God, to Thomas Morrell.

2
18 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

It had become partially fossilized in old John St. The more
sagacious and liberal among the membership felt the need of a
second church, and were anxious to build it. But the other sort
resisted with such pertinacity that they came near defeating the
attempted forward movement. The exigency was important,
and something must be done to meet it. The skillful, courage-
ous Major was promoted toa Generalship, and placed in com-
mand of the advancing forces.* The battle was severe, but with
great prudence and energy he led them to victory. The fossil shell
was broken, and an expansion begun which has continued till the
Church has reached its present enlarged and influential position.

Near seventeen years had now elapsed since he began “‘to
ride as a traveling preacher.’’ But he was laid aside over four
years, and if he spent one in his father’s store, less than twelve
are left to the effective ministry. But these were years of in-
cessant toil, great responsibility and signal success. Most of this
time was spent in four of our principal cities, and more than half
of itin New York. He corresponded with Wesley, Coke, As-
bury and other leading men in the Church, while his whole min-
isterial career shows that he occupied a prominent position and
exerted a decided influence in her early councils. Nor did his
labors abate only with his strength. Referring to his last term
in the city, he says, ‘‘ This was my last station out of Elizabeth-
town, but for sixteen years I continued to preach as often as
when I traveled.’’ Dr. Murray adds, ‘‘ After that he generally
preached once every Sabbath in Elizabethtown, unless prevented
by ill health, until he reached his eighty-seventh year.’’ He
was eighty-eight years and nine months old when he preached
his last sermon.

He was married, May 24, 1802, to Lydia, daughter of George
Frazer, of Westfield, N. J., then in his fifty-fifth year. His
wife joined the M. HK. Church soon after, probably leaving an-
other communion for this purpose. She was a woman of deep
and uniform piety, and reached a peaceful end, Oct. 11, 1808,
leaving three children, one of whom, Rev. Francis A. Morrell, is
still (1864) living. He afterward married the widow of Theo-
dorus Hamilton, who survived him some twelve years, and left a
daughter, the wife of Judge Elmer, of Elizabeth City, N. J.

.
THOMAS MORRELL. 19

In 1804 the minutes assign him to Elizabethtown. The next
year his name only appears in the list of elders, and in 1806 it is
marked ‘‘located.’’ And though his labors were incessant, his
name does not appear again till 1825, when it is marked ‘‘ super-
numerary,’’ which relation he held to the end of life.

Dr. Murray gives this striking and instructive portrayal of his
personal appearance and social habits. ‘‘ When I first knew
Mr. Morrell, he was in his eighty-ninth year. His appearance
was unique and striking. He was rather short, his head not
large, his eye bright and blue, his lips thin, and his whole ap-
pearance indicative of much more than ordinary firmness. He
always wore a covering on his head like a smoking-cap, from be-
neath which his hair fell gracefully on his neck. For his age his
step was quick and his conversation vivacious. He was neat in
person, and always appeared as if dressed for company. He
wore a long frock-coat, buttoned to the chin; and, without the
least ostentation, was a man of the old school. His personal
and social habits were worthy of all praise. Through the whole
course of his life, he rose early. He was frugal and temperate
in all things. He was remarkably punctual in all his engage-
ments. He never put off the work of one day to another, or of
one hour to another. Hence everything around him and be-
longing to him was in order. It was also one of his standing
rules to owe no man anything but love; and at the hour of his
departure, there was not probably a man living to whom he
owed a penny. He possessed great energy and activity. He
was always occupied with something. And hence to the last he
was cheerful, contented, and happy.”’

The fires of patriotism, which burned so brightly in his early
manhood, only went out with his life. Dr. Murray bears this
testimony: ‘‘He was always an earnest patriot. His love of
country increased with his years, and was second in intensity,
only to his love to God and his zeal for the salvation of men.
On the 4th of July, 1828, when he was eighty-three years of age,
he delivered an address in the Presbyterian Church in this town,
worthy of one whose blood had actually formed part of the price
of his country’s liberties.”’

He did not receive a thorough literary training, and made no
20 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

“pretensions to extensive learning, philosophical acumen or
critical research.’? His mind was not massive or brilliant, but
quick, penetrating and energetic, and at the same time elastic -
and tenacious. His perceptive faculties were of a high order,
and combined with’ quick intuition, accurate observation and
careful reflection, enabled him to acquire a good degree of men-
tal discipline, and also, accurate and extensive knowledge of men
and things. Nor was he deficient in a knowledge of his mother
tongue or of theological and general literature.

As a preacher he ranked among the first of his day. Rev.
John Lee, who knew him well, says: ‘‘ His appearance and
manner in the pulpit were grave and dignified, befitting the
ambassador of God. His sermons were characterized by strong
sense and sound theology; his deductions were logical, his
analyses clear, and his application forcible, discriminating and
faithful. Not unfrequently his preaching was attended with an
unction that affected his own heart, causing the tears to trickle
down his cheeks, and being communicated to his hearers, a large
part of his audience would be melted down into tenderness,
humility and love.’’ Dr. Murray says, ‘‘ Possessing a rich
Christian experience, he was peculiarly felicitous in exposing
the deceitfulness of the human heart, and in edifying believers.
And when, at times, he denounced the wrath of God against
the impenitent, he did it with an authority and power which
spread awe and solemnity over the whole assembly.’’ Rev. Dr.
Sprague, having examined one of his sketches, says, ‘‘It is
written with marked ability, and would be highly creditable to
any of our most highly educated ministers, indicating a high de-
gree of intellectual culture.’’ These testimonies are corroborated
by the notice he attracted, the positions he occupied and the
success that attended his labors.

Though not converted in early life, he became a deeply _ex-
perienced Christian. January 1, 1838, he entered the following
remarkable item in his journal :—

‘““Through the tender mercy of God I have lived to see the
beginning of another year, being now ninety years, one month
and nine days old, a longer period than any of our family have
lived. I have many things to be thankful for, my life being
THOMAS MORRELL. 21

prolonged to so advanced an age, having the faculties of my
mind in perfect exercise, my health tolerably good, sleep sound,
appetite good, my wife in health, my children all religious and
in health, my son successful as a preacher, my soul devoted to
God, and everything in plenty of temporal things. Would to
God I was more thankful, more holy, more heavenly-minded.
This morning I have devoted my soul and body to God; and
though I am unable to preach as formerly, yet I am endeavor-
ing by grace to walk with God. The church here is in a low
state. Lord, revive thy work in my soul, and in our and other
churches for Christ’s sake. Amen, and amen.’’ Was any
other man ever able to indite such a record? or was any mortal
ever more highly favored or richly blessed of Heaven?

His son says, ‘‘ His favorite themes in preaching were the
universality of the atonement, justification by faith, and espe-
cially the doctrine of entire sanctification, of which, for some
time before his death, he had the clear witness. I seldom heard
him preach, but the tears flowed from his eyes, evincing the
deep earnestness of his soul. His absorbing aim was to lead the
soul to Christ and heaven.’’ Observe, too, his recorded vow,
“never to omit private prayer three times a day,’’ showing
him to have been familiar with spiritual exercises, and to have
walked and talked with God. Dr. Murray says, ‘‘ He possessed
a rich Christian experience,’ and that, ‘‘he was a good man
full of the Holy Ghost and of faith.’’ And especially significant
_is the above statement that ‘‘for some time before his death he
had the clear witness” of entire sanctification.

It was fitting and to be expected that such a life should be
crowned by a triumphant death. THis son shall relate the
manner of its occurrence. ‘‘In his last illness, which was pro-
tracted, he suffered much from soreness of throat, accompanied
with an asthmatic affection. Yet he uttered no complaint—not
a murmur was heard; and though he desired the hour of de-
liverance to arrive, yet was perfectly resigned to the will of God.
He repeated audibly three times,—‘ Though I walk through the
valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for the Lord
is with me.’ To our deeply affected mother, he said, ‘Why do
you weep? I am going to glory.’ At his request the 23d Psalm
22 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

was read. We sang the ‘ Christian’s Home,’ in which he made
an effort to join. He said, ‘I shall soon be there,’ and often
prayed, ‘Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly.” When asked if
death was a terror to him, he replied in the negative, and
added, ‘I have gotten the victory.’ He exclaimed,—‘ How
good to feel a Saviour’s love amid so much suffering.’ He re-
mained conscious to the last, and uttered as his last audible
words, ‘All is well,’ and then without a struggle or a sigh,
sweetly fell asleep in Jesus. Of those who thus die it may be
truly said,—
‘They sleep in Jesus and are blessed ;
How sweet their slumbers are!
From suffering and from sin released,
And freed from every care.’ ”

Thus triumphantly ended an eventful and noble career, that
had been extended to the rare length of ninety years, eight
months and seventeen days, on the 9th of August, 1838. And
how full of instruction and comfort is the fact, that aftr a
manly and high-toned devotion to God and his work had
characterized his Christian and ministerial life, no cloud was
permitted to shade the closing scene. But the light and warmth
from the Sun of Righteousness, which had so richly cheered and
invigorated him amid the toils and trials of life’s long day,
beamed upon him with increasing fullness as he neared the final
hour. How touchingly is the saying of the wise man thus veri-
fied,—‘‘ The path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth
more and more unto the perfect day.’’—Prov. iv. 18.

N. B. The materials for the above memoir were gathered
from Rev. Dr. Murray’s contribution to Sprague’s ‘‘ Annals of
the American Methodist Pulpit,” to the use of which Dr. 8.
‘kindly consented,—from Wakeley’s ‘‘ Lost Chapters,’’ and from
Lee’s sketch of “‘ Methodism in New Jersey,’’ together with
some direct information from Rev. F. A. Morrell.

!
JAMES BUCKLEY. 23

REV. JAMES BUCKLEY.

THE Methodists of America are indebted to England not only
for their denominational origin—but also for very many in their
communion who have proved themselves able ministers of the
New Testament. Of this class are the two brothers Buckley.
They were born in Lancashire, but in the providence of God
were transferred to these shores, where they became the sub-
jects of redeeming grace, through the agency of that Church,
whose ministry they subsequently adorned.

James Buckley, the subject of this sketch, was born in 1810.
He came to this country at the age of seventeen, and three
years after his arrival embraced religion. It soon became evi-
dent to the Church that he possessed the necessary qualifica-
tions, both of gifts and grace, for an effective minister of the
cross. Being satisfied himself of a Divine call to this sublime
work, and finding his way open to the regular ministry in the
latter part of the year 1833, he entered upon it, under the direc-
tion of Rev. J. J. Matthias, Presiding Elder of the East Jersey
District.

The following spring he was received on trial in the Philadel-
phia Conference, and appointed to Mount Horeb, N. J. In
1835 and 1836 he was stationed at Elizabethtown, and in 1837 at
Morristown, in the same state. He went to this last charge in
a feeble state of health, and continued gradually to decline, until
in the following winter it was found there was but little hope of
his recovery, when he was removed to the house of a relative
in Bloomfield, where he lingered through several months. He
was not confined to his bed until the last two or three days of
his life, though his disease, which was a clearly marked case of |
pulmonary consumption, left him no hope, during these months
of suffering, of a favorable issue. He walked, however, even
24 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

cheerfully into the evening twilight; and witnessed the deepen-
ing shades of the approaching night of death, not only without
dismay, but with continually brightening hopes of immortality
and eternal life. He possessed an unshaken faith in God his
Saviour, and, in the spirit of abiding trust, declared, ‘‘ My hopes
of heaven are firmly based on the atonement of Christ.’’

The evening before his death, he seemed better than usual ;
was cheerful, and conversed freely with his friends, but on the
following morning a change for the worse had evidently taken
place. His speech had partially failed. He was sinking into
the arms of death. A friend inquired, ‘‘Is the great sacrifice
which has been offered sufficient?’’ to which he responded with
emphasis, ‘‘Oh yes, yes.’’ After his speech had entirely failed,
he was requested, if all was well, to raise his hand, which he
did at once; and, as if to emphasize the response, he repeated
immediately this token of the victory which he realized through
the blood of the Lamb. His friends kneeled around his bed,
and in prayer commended his spirit to God. Soon after which,
on the morning of the 15th of March, 1838, he sweetly fell
asleep in Jesus.

The piety of James Buckley was not of a vacillating or
doubtful character; but deep, uniform, constant, practical. The
graces of the Christian shone in him with distinguished lustre.
Grave and serious in his manners, he was at the same time
amiable and cheerful.

His talents were of a superior order. Gifted by nature with
a mind strong and discriminating, his habits were studious, his
application close, and his improvement consequently rapid. In
the pulpit he was eminently popular and successful. The zeal,
pathos and energy with which his sermons were delivered, ren-
dered them deeply impressive. He was a most faithful and de-
voted pastor, always awakening a healthful religious influence
in his pastoral visitations. He was, in a word, in every depart
ment of his calling ‘‘a workman that needeth not to be ashamed.’’

Though called at the early age of twenty-eight, to lay down
with his life the work for which he was so peculiarly qualified,
he still lives in the fruits of his labors, and his crown of rejoicing
will be decorated with many stars.
JAMES CAMPBELL. 25

REV. JAMES CAMPBELL.

He was born in Ireland, in the year 1762. It is not now
known, when he came to this country, but it must have been at
an early age, as we find him living in the State of Maryland,
where he was converted in his eighteenth year. At the age of
twenty-seven, he entered the itinerant ministry—his name first
appearing in the Conference minutes for the year 1789. He
continued in the effective work for a period of sixteen years, and
in 1805 permanently located in the Borough of Pemberton, New
Jersey. :

We find his name connected, at different periods, with the
Virginia, New York, Philadelphia, and New Jersey annual Con-
ferences, in connection with which he traveled and preached in
most of the States then in the Union.

His location was occasioned by a charge seriously affecting his
moral character, under which he suffered for a time, when God
in an impressive manner vindicated his innocence. His accuser,
who was a woman, was brought upon her death-bed, and with
the fearful guilt of this crime upon her conscience dared not
pray nor hope for the Divine forgiveness until she should relieve
the victim of her malignant slander from its bitter consequences.

She accordingly sent for Mr. Campbell and several prominent
and influential members of the church, and in their presence
made a full confession of her falsehood and perjury, which was
taken down at her request, and duly attested. At the next Con-
ference, he was promptly and honorably restored to the Church
and ministry. He however never re-entered the regular work,
but continued in business, by which he acquired a considerable
fortune, a large part of which at his death was left to the
church. 3

As a preacher he was plain, practical, and energetic, and dur-
26 — NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

ing his long residence in Pemberton was greatly respected for
his earnest consistent life. His regard for the sanctity of the
Sabbath was quite remarkable. No one was ever more careful
to ‘‘remember the Sabbath-day and keep it holy.’’ The pre-
cept did not devolve upon him an irksome task to be performed
reluctantly, but it seemed rather the charter of an unspeakably
precious privilege. The dawn of the Sabbath’s heavenly light
always stimulated his devotions and gladdened his heart, and its
recurrence was hailed as among his most coveted enjoyments.

He cherished also a very ardent love for the inspired word.
He read it habitually and with great interest, and treasured
every favorable expression of the sacred volume which he met in
his reading as we might suppose he would have done if it had
been a personal compliment.

The Jews, we are told, regarded the name of Jehovah as toe
sacred for utterance, and Mr. Campbell’s veneration for it was
scarcely less marked, for it is said he never uttered it nor heard
it uttered but with uncovered head.

He lived to a ripe old age, having reached nearly the divinely-
prescribed limit of probationary life. His evening was without
clouds, and his sun went down amidst bright skies on the 3st
of December, 1840, in his eightieth year.
THOMAS WARE. 27

REV. THOMAS WARE.

THERE seems to be no authentic record of the date of his birth.
The part of the family register containing it having been, by ac-
cident, so effaced as to render it illegible. He says: ‘‘For the
only knowledge I have of it, therefore, [am indebted to the
memory of my excellent mother, from whom I learned that it
was on the 19th of December, 1758.’’ He was born in Greenwich,
Cumberland Co., N. J.

His paternal grandfather was an Englishman by birth, and
was a captain in the British service under Queen Anne. He
says, ‘‘I remember him well, as he lived until I was sixteen
years old. His personal appearance was fine, and his mind
cheerful. The caresses, anecdotes and lessons of instruction re-
ceived from him are among my earliest recollections. He had
high notions of liberty, and was the first man IJ ever heard
eulogize the Indian character. Most péople seemed to think the
Indians ought to be exterminated.”

‘When this venerable man came to spend a few days with us,”’
says Thomas, ‘‘ we were always delighted, and vied with each other
in our efforts to please him. His company was interesting on
account of his cheerfulness and the stories with which he was
always ready to entertain us. He wasin the habit, too, of advis-
ing my father with respect to the education of his children. On
this subject he used to say the mind must be made strong, as
well as the body. . . . and in view of this a beginning could
not too soon be made to guard children against the fears which
vulgar stories about ghosts, &c., were calculated to produce, and
to store their minds with correct ideas. My grandfather lived
to the great age of more than five score years.”

His maternal grandfather was a native of Scotland, named
Reed, who was wrecked off the Capes of the Delaware, on his
28 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

way to this country. He reached the shore by clinging to some
fragments of the broken ship, and was found nearly exhausted on
the beach by a farmer named Garrison, whose daughter he af-
terward married.

The father and mother of Thomas were pious persons, and
lived together in the fear of the Lord. His father died when
about thirty-eight years of age. He was remarkable for his kind
and gentle disposition, and was the only one of the family who
professed to know that God, for Christ’s sake, could forgive
sins. ‘The whole deportment of my father,’’ (said Thomas)
“* tended to fix in me a habit of serious reflection on the subject
of religion, and his triumphant death made an impression on my
mind that time could not obliterate.’’

He seemed to have been a man of considerable reading and in-
telligence. Milton was his favourite poet, and it is said that per-
sons of taste and cultivation were always delighted to hear him
read Paradise Lost. It seems that while his parents were both
pious, they differed very decidedly in their views of doctrine.
The mother was a firm believer in the Presbyterian faith, while
the father was not, and refused to join that church unless he
could be permitted to think for himself on the subject of
Divine decrees. He believed in the doctrine of the universality of
the atonement: but in compliance with his wife's wishes suffered
Thomas to learn the Larger and Shorter Catechisms. In view of
the long dark night of sorrow occasioned by these Calvinistic
prepossessions he afterward said, ‘‘ Alas! how many children
are injured, and go halting all their days, for want of skillful
nursing.”’

His account of the mother’s first effort to conduct family
prayers after his father’s death is quite affecting:—‘‘It had
been usual for my mother in my father’s absence to pray with her
children, morning and evening. . . . After his death she
collected her children as usual around her. While thus seated,
eight in number, and the eldest only in her seventeenth
year, she attempted to read, but could not. She sat and
wept. My eldest sister at last said, ‘My dear mother, why
do you weep?’ ‘Alas!’ she replied, ‘death has made you
all orphans, and your mother a disconsolate widow. I am
THOMAS WARE. 29

uot worthy to fill the place of your excellent father ; had I been
so, and you been dutiful children, we should not have been left
in this forlorn condition. Go, my children, and pray for your-
selves: these little ones,’ (meaning the younger four of the
number) ‘I will take with me into the closet.’ On hearing these
words from my bereaved and much afflicted mother I arose
quickly, went out into the field, and wept bitterly.”

The gloom which hung over the mind of this good woman, at
the loss of so kind and affectionate a husband, devolving upon
her as it did the whole responsibility of a large and dependent
family, was heightened by the doubts she often indulged about
her own election, or gracious state, as she expressed it. She
was harassed with fears, that what she had fondly taken for
saving grace was nothing more than common grace.

A deep gloom was cast over the morning of young Ware’s
days by his early instruction in the doctrines of the Calvinistic
faith: he says, ‘‘ A spirit of melancholy seized me, and I became
subject to desponding fears; in this state I wandered in lonely
places, and having heard that departed spirits did sometimes
return as messengers of good to those they loved on earth, I
often invoked my father’s appearance, hoping that for the love
he bore us while he was with us, he would return and tell me if
my mother’s name and my own were written in the book of life.”’

Soon after this he says, ‘‘ The younger two of our family were
taken away by death. As they died in infancy, there is no just
ground to doubt of their being happy. But to a mind exercised
as mine then was, there was no satisfactory assurance of it: for
according to our creed the condition of infancy could not be con-
sidered as a security against being finally lost.’’ He inferred
from his creed, as he tells us, that, ‘‘ Our dear little Lydia and
Enoch were more likely to be in hell than in heaven,”’ as he sup-
posed the non-elect to be much more numerous than the elect,
and thus the moral gloom through which he walked was deep-
ened almost to the blackness of despair.

He was now some twelve years old, and from this time until
he reached his twenty-first year, when under the preaching of the
sainted Pedicord, the light of gospel truth chased from his mind
the dark clouds of this ‘‘ horrible’ system of decrees, he seems
30 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

to have walked in darkness and the shadow of death, some-
times meditating suicide as a remedy for his mental anguish, but
deterred from chérishing the fell purpose more by the love he
had for his mother, and the effect ‘‘the tale of horror’’ would
have upon her, than by any fear he had of the sleep of death,
which, as he tells us, he ‘‘ sometimes much coveted.’’ At other
times he would try.to dismiss all serious thoughts from his mind,
and give himself up to levity and indifference—to singing songs
and reading novels and indulging in wicked jests, but his con-
science, still awake and alarmed, gave him no quiet.

Speaking of his condition, on one occasion he says, ‘‘I was
now for several months little better than a maniac. I delighted
in nothing so much as being alone: to wander in retired places,
and indulge the reveries of my own mind: sometimes I cherished
the delightful thought that I had an interest in the Parent of
all, and was an object of his pity. At other times I was led to
adopt the language of the poet,—

‘Ten thousand midnights rolled their midnight gloom,
In solemn pomp along a starless sky.’

“* At times I devoted myself to much reading. Interesting his-
tories I preferred to any other solid works: but novels took the
lead, and I devoured all I could procure. With my jaundiced
eyes I could find nothing in the Bible whereon to build but a
doubtful peradventure—a mere shadow—and with this I dare
no more converse than with a spectre from the dismal shades.
In such a'state, where or to whom could I go for instruction and
relief?”

At about this time a preacher, who was one of the most rigid
predestinarians of that age, came into the place, and revived
the clamor against the Methodists. The story which was put
in circulation was that the Rev. Messrs. Richard and Rowland
Hill had written them down in England, and that they were
flocking to America: and a clergyman of an adjoining parish ap-
prehending that no time was to be lost, commenced a course of
sermons on the decrees of God, in which he extended their ap-
plication to the falling of every leaf as well as to all the minutia
THOMAS WARE. 31

of human actions. He was very severe on the Methodist tenets,
denouncing them as Arminian, Pelagian and Popish heresies,
&e. During this agitation a son of Col. 8., one of the minister’s
chief parishioners, returned from college with two of his fellow-
students to spend a short time at home. These young men
were studying for the law. They attended church for two suc-
cessive Sabbaths, and listened to the discourses on the divine de-
crees. On the following Sabbath, however, while the parson
was pursuing his subject in the church, they were playing at
cards in a pleasant shade near it, without any apparent concern
about being concealed from the public view. Of this daring im-
piety the pastor was soon informed, and on the following day in
company with two of his elders he waited on Col. S., whose son
had evidently taken the lead in this open contempt of the day,
the ordinances, and the minister of God. The clergyman
opened the subject to the father, and the son was called to an-
swer for himself. The youth frankly confessed what he had
done: and on being sharply rebuked for an offence so enormous,
and shocking to the moral sense of all good people, he boldly
took refuge under the doctrine taught him from the pulpit.
“Tf your reverence please,’’ said he, ‘‘the Lord made me to do
this bad deed, and I hope you will excuse or at least pity me,
seeing it was from all eternity decreed,”’ and then drew from his
pocket and handed to the preacher an abstract which he had
taken of one of his sermons, in which it was affirmed that the
decrees of God extended to all the actions of men. With this
repartee the Colonel saw the parson was greatly embarrassed ; nor
could he relieve him other than by an exercise of parental au-
thority in reproving his son for being guilty of so wicked an act,
and obtaining from him a promise that he would not be guilty
of the like again. But the son gave point to the whole by beg-
ging his father in the most respectful manner not to urge his
demand with too much decision, lest he should be guilty of
greater impiety, not knowing how the decrees of God might
run.

Tn his sixteenth year the subject of our sketch left his native
place and went to Salem, N. J., about twenty miles distant, to
reside with his uncle. This uncle was an ingenious mechanic,
82 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

intelligent, witty, and sarcastic, but lax in his moral and reli-
gious principles. His associates were like himself, skeptical and
profane. Under the corrupting influences of these vicious ex-
amples young Ware for a time lost his seriousness; he imbibed
their ‘spirit, joined in their merriment, and having a good voice
he was soon caressed by them as being able to sing a good song
and say some smart things. ‘

While residing with his uncle the quarrel between us and the
mother country raged with great violence. Thomas, young and
ardent, had all his feelings enlisted on the side of America, and
seemed justly to appreciate the issues involved, as will appear
from the following: When one asked him for an explanation of
the principles which controlled the colonists, he replied, ‘‘ They
consist in never invading the rights of others, nor in allowing
others to invade ours, at the risk of life. But understand me,
sir,” he continued, ‘‘I do not mean as a duelist, for no man in
his individual capacity has the right of life or death;’’ and he
proceeded to explain an invasion of rights as consisting in at-
tempts to compel us to believe and act contrary to the dictates
of our own rational convictions.

When the struggle commenced his uncle was on the side of
America, but on the adoption of the Declaration of Indepen-
dence he changed sides, and Thomas left him and volunteered
in the Colonial service, and was one of the nine thousand
troops quartered at Perth Amboy in 1776.

The responsibility and dangers of his new position led him
again to serious thoughts of God and eternity, and he prayed
until a confidence sprang up within him that he should be re-
turned to his home and friends in safety; and ‘‘so it was,’’ he
concludes, ‘‘that as a soldier in the army I was more devout
than when at home.”

While they were lying at Perth Amboy their general reviewed
them in full view of the enemy, and with only a narrow river be-
tween them and the enemy’s guns. As might have been expected
the British opened their artillery upon them, and if they had di-
rected their fire with skill many would have been slain: but they
shot over them, and though none were injured many were dread-
fully frightened, and indignant at the officers for unnecessarily
exposing their lives to such imminent hazard.
THOMAS WARE. 33

The incompetency of the officers was but too obvious. For
instance, instead of drilling and exercising their men in the arts
of war they permitted them to spend their time in foot-races,
wresiling, jumping, &c. By an inadvertent remark on this sub-
ject, Thomas came near getting into serious difficulty. He said,
‘*Our officers undoubtedly depend more upon our heels than
our arms,’’ alluding to the exercises of the men in running and®
jumping. For this he was reprimanded and threatened with
an arrest.

He afterward volunteered to reinforce Washington on Long
Island. They marched with all possible haste to Paulis’ Hook;
but before they arrived the British got command of the Hudson
River, and they were prevented crossing to Long Island. After
this forced march, the day being very sultry, and having no tent
or quarters for the night except a damp filthy hovel, he was
seized with what was called the camp fever. The physicians
pronounced it a hectic. Whatever it was, it cost him several
years of the prime of his life.

He returned home, sick, but from the cruelty of the tories who
infested the lower part of this State, and treated him with all
sorts of indignities, came near losing his life on the way. He af-
terward enlisted again, but found himself incapacitated by sick-
ness; and among strangers and nigh unto death, with a con-
science ill at rest and a religious creed which obscured the way
of life and shrouded his mind in a worse than Egyptian dark-
ness, his case was pitiable indeed. He says of himself at this
period: ‘‘My physical powers were prostrated by disease, and
my mind bewildered by the religious opinions I had been taught in
my childhood, without being able to understand them. It is
true I sometimes read, but superstitiously believing that God’s
effective will was hidden from man, I doubted much if what I
read was true.’

About this time, while residing in Mount Holly, he contracted
an acquaintance with a young man of insinuating manners, who
was completing the study of navigation. He was expecting to
go to sea with his brother-in-law, as his mate, in a brig which
was nearly fitted for the voyage. This young man induced young
Ware to engage in the same study with him, promising to give

3
34 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

him all the aid he could until the brig was ready, and that he
should have the steward’s birth on board, when he would assist
him in his studies until he had acquired a knowledge of the art.
He said he had no doubt they would both make their fortunes,
as the brig was to have a picked crew and outsail everything on
the seas. Thomas entered heartily into the enterprise, without,
however, knowing its true character. This brig, as facts subse-
quently proved, was designed to carry on a contraband trade
with the British. Between the owners and the enemy there
was an understanding: the vessel laden with provisions was to
be thrown in their way and captured; and then a liberal price
was to be paid for the cargo, and she permitted to escape.

Ignorant of his wicked design and treachery, he was drawn to
the very verge of the abyss, without suspecting it. Impatient -
for the time to arrive when he was to sail, and when the prepara-
tions were nearly complete, he wandered into a neighboring
grove to think over the subject of the adventure. While
musing there alone, a stranger passed him, though without
seeing him. As he was going by he began to sing,

“Still out of the deepest abyss
Of trouble, I mournfully cry,
I pine to recover my bliss,
And see my Redeemer and die.

“T cannot, I cannot forbear,
These passionate longings for home.
Oh! when shall my spirit be there,
Oh! when will the messenger come ?”

Thomas was greatly touched by this singing, especially the
couplet :—
“T cannot, I cannot forbear,
These passionate longings for home.”

He followed the singer, hoping to hear more of it, until he
saw him stop at the house of a Methodist and dismount. He
concluded the stranger must be a Methodist preacher, and had
probably come there to preach that evening.
THOMAS WARE. 35

A Methodist man in the town, suspecting Thomas to be under
religious impressions, went to him and informed him that Mr.
Pedicord, a most excellent preacher, had come into the place
and was to preach that evening, and expressed a very earnest
wish that he should hear him. Thomas knew very little of the
Methodists at this time. He had been led to believe they were
disloyal; and had been charged by his mother, who was strongly
prejudiced against them, to refrain from going after them.
Through the influence of his Methodist friend, however, he was
induced to go, and for the first time, heard the doctrine of a
free and present salvation. The text was Luke xxiv. 45-47.
He says: ‘‘I was soon convinced that all men were redeemed,
and might be saved—and saved now from the guilt, practice,

‘and love of sin. With this I was greatly affected, and could
hardly refrain from exclaiming aloud, ‘This is the best intelli-
gence I ever heard.’ When the meeting closed, I hastened to
my room, fell upon my knees before God, and spent much of the
night in penitential tears. I did not once think of my engage-
ment with my sea-bound companions, until the next day, when
I informed the young man who had induced me to enlist in the
project, that I had abandoned all thoughts of going to sea.
They, however, proceeded in their perilous undertaking, were
betrayed, their officers thrown into prison, and the brig and
cargo confiscated. When I heard this, I praised the Lord for
my deliverance from this danger and infamy, which I considered
worse than death.”

He now gave up the study of navigation, and abandoned all
company but that of the pious. He read the New Testament
over and over, and was charmed with the character of God his
Saviour, as revealed in it, and esteemed reproach for his sake
more desirable than all earthly treasure.

‘Mr. Pedicord,’’ he says, ‘‘ returned again to our village. I
hastened to see him, and tell him all that wasin my heart. He
shed tears over me and prayed: I was dissolved in tears: he
prayed again. My soul was filled with unutterable delight.
He now rejoiced over me as a son—an heir of God and a joint
heir with Christ. I felt and knew that I was made free.”’

He was now twenty-one years of age, and his regenerated
36 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

nature was wholly consecrated to God and his service. Among
the stirring incidents in his new experience and associations is
an interesting account of ‘a quarterly meeting held in Mt. Holly
by Rev. George Mair, when that was missionary ground, in the
year 1780. His picture of the Love-feast, on that occasion, held
in a barn, contains several touching experiences, one of which I
know the reader will enjoy: it is as follows:—

‘*A German spoke next, and if I could tell what he said, as
told by him, it would be worth a place in any one’s memory.
But this I cannot do. He spoke, however, in substance thus:—

‘When de preacher did come to mine house, and did say,
‘Peace be in dis habitation: Iam come fader to see if in dese
troublesome times, I can find any in your parts dat does know
de way to dat country, where war, sorrow and crying is no more;
and of whom could I inquire so properly, as of one to whom
God has given many days?’ When he did say dis, I was angry,
and did try to say to him, ‘Go out of mine house ;’ but I could
not speak, but did tremble, and when mine anger was gone, I
did say, I does fear I does not know de way to dat goodist
place, but mine wife does know; sit down and I will call her.
Just den mine wife did come in, and de stranger did say, Dis,
fader, is I presume yourn wife, of whom you say she does know
de way to a better country, de way to heaven! Dear woman,
will you tell it me? After mine wife did look at de stranger one
minute, she did say, J do know Jesus, and is not he de way?
De stranger did den fall on his knees and tank God for bringing
him to mine house, where dere was one dat did know de way to
heaven; he did den pray for me and mine children, dat we might
be like mine wife, and all go to heaven togeder. Mine wife did
den pray in Dutch, and some of mine children did fall on deir
knees, and I did fall on mine, and when she did pray no more
de preacher did pray again, and mine oldest daughter did cry
so loud.

‘From dat time I did seek de Lord, and did fear he would not
hear me, for I had made de heart of mine wife so sorry when I
did tell her she was mad. But de preacher did show me so
many promises, dat I did tell mine wife, if she would forgive me,
and fast and pray wid me all day and all night, I did hope de
THOMAS WARE. 3T

Lord would forgive me. Dis did please mine wife, but she did
say, We must do all in de name of de Lord Jesus. About de
middle of de night, I did tell mine wife I should not live till
morning, mine distress was too great. But she did say, Mine
husband, God will not let you die; and just as de day did break,
mine heart did break, and tears did run so fast, and I did say,
Mine wife, I does now believe mine God will bless me, and she
did say, Amen, amen, Come, Lord Jesus. Just den mine oldest
daughter, who had been praying all night, did come in, and did
fall on mine neck, and said, O mine fader, Jesus has blessed me.
And den joy did come into mine heart, and we have ‘gone on
rejoicing in de Lord ever since. Great fear did fall on mine
neighbors, and mine barn would not hold all de people dat does
come to learn de way to heaven.’’ His looks, his tears, and
his broken English kept the people in tears, mingled with
smiles, and even laughter, not with lightness, but joy, for they
believed every word he said.

In those days when conversion implied devotion to God’s
work, it could hardly have been otherwise than that our subject,
ardent and gifted as he was, should be in labors more abundant.
He was soon appointed leader of a class, and also licensed to ex-
hort, and though he did not deem himself called to the work of
the ministry, yet his zeal often led him to extraordinary efforts
for the salvation of souls. Some of these he relates in his account
of his first meeting with Bishop Asbury.

‘‘ Bishop Asbury came to New Mills, about seven miles from
Mount Holly, and sent for me to come and see him. We
had not previously met. On entering his room, he fixed his
discriminating eye upon me, and seemed to examine me from
head to foot. As I approached him, he reached me his hand,
and said, ‘This I suppose is Brother Ware, or shall I say Pedi-
cord the younger?’ I replied, my name is Ware, sir, and I
claim some affinity to the Wesleyan family, and Mr. Pedicord as
my spiritual father.”’

After an informal though thorough examination of the young
man on his doctrinal views, ‘‘ The Bishop (he continues) looked
at me very sternly, and said, ‘What is this I hear of you? It
is said that you have disturbed the peaceful inhabitants of
38 : NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

Holly by rudely entering into a house where a large number of
young people were assembled for innocent amusement, and when
welcomed by the company and politely invited to be seated, you
refused, and proceeded to address them in such a way that some
became alarmed and withdrew, and the rest soon followed.’ To
this I answered, ‘ My zeal in this affair may have carried me too
far. But I knew them to be generally my friends and well-
wishers, and felt to do as the man out of whom Christ cast the
devils was directed, namely, to go and show my friends how
great things God had done for me. It it true, when I entered
the room some appeared delighted to see me; but those who
knew me best appeared sad. And when invited to take a glass
and be seated I told them I must be excused, for I had not come
to spend the evening with them, but to invite them to spend it
with me. ‘You know me,’ I said, ‘and how delighted I have
often been in your company and with the amusements in which
you have met to indulge; but I cannot go with you now. My
conscience will not permit me to do so. But as none of your
consciences forbid your going with me I have come to invite you
to go and hear the excellent Mr. Pedicord preach his farewell
sermon. Pardon me, my friends, I am constrained to tell you
the Lord has done great things for me through the instrumen-
tality of this good man.’ Not a word of reply was made to what
I said. Some were affected, and left soon after I withdrew. It
is true, some of the citizens were offended, and said it was too
much that the Methodists should give tone to the town. ‘Must
the youth of Mount Holly,’ said they, * ask leave of the Method-
ists, if they would spend an evening together?’ Others said,
‘The young man must have acted from a Divine impulse, or he
could not have done it, as he is naturally diffident and unassum-
ing.’ But I never knew that any of the party was offended.”’
‘‘The Bishop listened attentively, but without relaxing the
sternness of his look or making any reply. He then branched
off to another subject. ‘Was it not bold and adventurous,’
said he, ‘ for so young a Methodist to fill for a whole week with-
out license or consultation the appointments of such a preacher
as George Mair?’ I replied that ‘Mr. Mair was suddenly called
from the circuit by sickness in his family, and I saw he was
THOMAS WARE. 39

deeply affected because of the disappointments it must occasion
on a part of the circuit where a good work was going on;
that some of these appointments were new, and there was no one
to hold any meeting whatever with the people; and that I was there-
fore induced soon after he was gone to resolve on going to some of
these places and telling those who might come out, the cause of
the preacher’s absence; and if I was sometimes constrained to
exhort, it was with fear and trembling, and very short, unless
when the tears of the people caused me to forget that I was on
unauthorized ground.’ ”’

The Bishop made no reply; and the young man being under
the impression that his remarks were designed to mortify hin
for his course at the Ball and on the Circuit, said, ‘‘ Mr. As-
bury, if the person who informed you against me had told me of
my errors I would haveacknowledged them.’’ Here he stopped
him by clasping him in his arms, and saying in an affectionate tone,
“You are altogether mistaken, my son ; it was your friend Pedi-
cord who told me of your pious deeds, and advised that you
should be sent to Dover Circuit, saying that he would be respon-
sible that no harm, but good, would result from it.’’ Though
not yet a preacher, he consented to go, quite reluctantly, how-
ever, to assist in keeping up the appointments until another
should be sent.

Having made the necessary preparation, he set out from Mount
Holly in September, 1783, for his new work on the Peninsula.
He was received kindly by the people, and soon saw, as he ex-
pressed it, that Dover Circuit was the place for him. He found
some of the members wealthy and in the higher circles of life,
not ashamed to bear the cross. Among these were some females
distinguished for piety and zeal such as he had never before wit-
nessed. A number of these possessed the true missionary
spirit in an uncommon degree, and greatly aided the young
preachers, by whom principally the work was carried on on that
favored shore.

At almost every meeting some were converted, and ‘‘ fre-
quently his rejoicing in the Lord was great.’’ In the mean-
time, he tells us, he “prayed and read and wrote much.” The
40 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

Bible was his chief book, which he constantly studied with such
helps as were within his reach.

In the Spring of 1784 the Conference sat at Baltimore. He
went to this Conference under the impression that he ought to
go home and give himself to study for a year before entering
fully upon the work of the ministry. But when he saw so many
of the preachers overworked and broken down in their efforts to
meet the calls everywhere made for laborers in this spiritual
vineyard, he yielded to the advice of his friend Pedicord, and con-
sented to continue in the work, and was appointed with James
O. Cromwell and Wm. Lynch to the Kent Circuit, Eastern
Shore of Maryland.

There he was also very successful, especially among the young,
of whom he gathered great numbers into the church, and many
of them from the first families on the Hastern Shore.

At this time the whole number of itinerant ministers in
America was eighty-two, and the number of members, 14,983.

During this year Dr. Coke, having been ordained ‘by Mr.
Wesley to the office of Superintendent or Bishop of the societies
in this country, arrived in New York with authority to ordain
Mr. Asbury to the same office. These eminent men first met at
Judge Barrett’s, in the State of Delaware, and after some con-
sultation agreed to call what has since been known in our his-
tory as the celebrated ‘‘ Christmas Conference,’’ where the so-
cieties were organized under the name of the ‘‘ Methodist Epis-
copal Church.”’ It had been fifteen years since Boardman and
Pillmore had introduced Methodism into this country, and dur-
ing all these years the ministers had been without ordination, and
societies without the Sacraments, except as they received them
at the hands of a ministry by whom they were held in utter con-
tempt, and for whom as Christian ministers they could have no
respect. These long-suffering preachers and their societies were
greatly rejoiced at the prospect of an organization by which they
could consolidate and build up a symmetrical and effective church.
After the organization at this Conference, the first thing was
the election and ordination of a sufficient number of elders to
visit all the Quarterly Meetings and administer the ordinances,
and thus originated in our church the office of Presiding Elder.
THOMAS WARE.. 41

My. Ware had many opportunities of secing and conversing
with Dr. Coke, and though not favourably impressed with him
at first, became greatly interested in him after further acquain-
tance. He thinks he was the best speaker in a private circle
and on the Conference floor he ever heard.

From this Conference he was returned to the Peninsula. After
a season of great prosperity he had a sudden and severe attack
of illness, accompanied with great gloom and mental depression,
and also by serious doubts of his call to the ministry; and after
recovering his health made up his mind to leave the work. At
what he intended for his last appointment in the circuit, he
received such a Divine anointing, and the people were so moved
under his word, that his doubts all left him, and he went on his
way with great rejoicing and success. Before the next Con-
ference, however, his despondency returned, and he wrote
Bishop Asbury, declining to take an appointment, and returned
to his home in Salem, N. J. This Conference, notwithstanding
his request, appointed him to Salem Circuit with Wm. Phebus
and Robert Sparks, and the year was to him, upon the whole, a
very pleasant and successful one.

In 1786 he was appointed to Long Island, in the State of New
York, and with the aid of local preachers extended his labors
accross the Sound, and preached at New Rochelle, Peekskill,
Bedford, Croton, &. At the last named place he was invited
to the house of Lieutenant Governor Van Courtland, where he
was charmed with their Christian courtesy and hospitality.

After preaching at Bedford, a Presbyterian minister arose in
the congregation, and accused him of preaching false doctrine,
but the people were all with him, and the Presbyterian got
decidedly the worst of it. A Mr. Hames then arose in the
audience, and invited him to go home with him and remain and
preach at his house. He accepted the invitation; and when
Mr. E. introduced him to his wife, he said, ‘‘ You know I told
you God would send the Methodist preachers among us, when
J dreamed that I saw Mr. Wesley riding through the country
with his Bible open in his hand.’’ Here he preached re-
peatedly, and formed a class. On his return to Long Island, he
was overtaken by a terrible snow-storm, and ‘‘ driven to the ne-
42 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

cessity of putting up at an inn,” where he was detained for a
week. ‘Thirty years after this,” says Mr. Ware, ‘“‘I was
again appointed to Long Island, where my host visited me, On
meeting me he said, ‘Father Ware, I am happy to see you once
more. Have you forgotten the snow-storm which brought you
and salvation to my house?’ ”’

EAST TENNESSEE.

At the Conference of 1787 Mr. Ware volunteered with two
other young men, who esteemed the reproach of Christ greater
riches than earthly treasure, to accompany Mr. Tunnell to the
Holston Country, now called East Tennessee. Here they found
a population spread over a territory equal in extent to Hast
Jersey, almost wholly destitute of the gospel. They found the
community greatly demoralized. The leaders were many of
them the worst of men: such as had been guilty of some
heinous or scandalous crime, and had fled from justice. Some
who had borrowed money or were otherwise indebted, and left their
creditors and securities to suffer by their dishonesty. Among
these were several apostate preachers of different sects, whose
profligate lives had greatly prejudiced the community against
ministers as a class, and which caused most of the persecutions
which this little pioneer band of Methodist itinerants were called
to endure. Societies, however, were formed, and a number of
log chapels erected, and on the circuit three hundred members
were received the first year.

In the fall of this year he extended his labors by direction of
the Presiding Elder lower down on the Holston, to a section
through which Indian savages were constantly prowling, with the
object of destroying or capturing the white inhabitants. On
one occasion, as his course led him through a ‘‘fine bottom
covered chiefly with the crab apple-tree,”’ and as he approached
a lofty grove, his horse suddenly stopped, snorted, and wheeled
about. As he turned he caught a glimpse of an Indian with
arifle; he gave his horse the reins, hasted to the nearest
settlement and gave the alarm. On another occasion a woman
was killed within a quarter of a mile of where he was preaching,
THOMAS WARE. 43

\
by an Indian, who came stealthily to where she was spinning,
and ‘‘drove the tomahawk into her head before she knew they
were near, and her two children came screaming into the place
of meeting, ‘The Indians have killed mother.’ ”’

During this winter he narrowly escaped death on several oc-
casions, from long exposure to cold and rain in his journeyings
through the trackless wilderness.

The first Conference in Holston was held in 1788. As the
road by which Bishop Asbury was to come, was infested by hos-
tile savages, so that it could not be traveled, except by consider-
able companies together, he did not arrive until a week after the
time appointed to commence it. Meantime the preachers were
earnestly engaged in holding public religious services, which re-
sulted during the week in a large number of conversions. Among
the first converts were General Russell and lady, the latter a
sister of the illustrious Patrick Henry. His account of the con-
version of this interesting couple is as follows: ‘‘ When the meet-
ing closed on Sabbath morning Mrs. Russell said to me, ‘I
thought I was a Christian: but, sir, I am not a Christian—I am
the veriest sinner on earth. I want you and Mr. Marten to
come with Mr. Tunnell to our house and pray for us, and tell us
what we must do to be saved.’ So we went, and spent much
of the afternoon in prayer, especially for Mrs. Russell. Being
much exhausted, the preachers retired to a pleasant grove near
at hand to rest. After we had left the General, seeing the
agony of soul under which his poor wife was laboring, by the
advice of his pious daughter, read to her Mr. Fletcher’s charming
address to mourners. At length we heard the word ‘Glory!’
often repeated, accompanied with the clapping of hands. We
hastened to the house, and found Mrs. Russell, praising the Lord,
and the General walking the floor and weeping bitterly, uttering
at the same time this plaintive appeal to the Saviour of sinners:
‘O Lord, thou didst bless my dear wife, while thy poor servant
was reading to her—hast thou not a blessing also forme?’ At
length he sat down quite exhausted. This scene was in a high
degree interesting: to see the old soldier and statesman—the
proud opposer of godliness—trembling and earnestly inquiring

‘what he must do to be saved, was an affecting sight. He rested
44 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

not until he knew his adoption: he joined the church, was faith-
ful, serving the church in various offices until the end of his life.

From this Conference, he was appointed to East New River,
with a colleague younger than himself, where, during the year,
they received eighty persons into the church. There was not
within the bounds of this circuit a religious meeting, except those
held by these young itinerants. Here they were called to endure
great hardships, from the effects of which he suffered until the
close of his life. Through all this country, the people brought
their children to him to have them baptized. He says, on this
subject, ‘‘I cannot but regret that I did not keep a record of the
number of these lambs of Christ’s flock, which I have held in
my arms and dedicated to him. For a time I attempted it: but
in Holston and the other circuits so many were presented for
baptism that I gave it up.”’

During his stay in New River Circuit, a young licentiate of the
Baptist order came into a part of the charge, where were a few
members of his church. He seemed to possess much of the
spirit of love, says Mr. Ware, and was with me several days.
He frequently exhorted and closed our meetings by prayer. He
was present at a meeting where several children were brought
forward to be baptized. On this occasion I stated some of our
reasons for baptizing infants, and then called on my young friend
to close as usual. He rose up, and to our surprise, whether bya
previous understanding or not, I cannot say, a Baptist woman
in the congregation presented him her child. He took it into
his arms and pronounced a blessing upon it, and returned it;
and then proceeded to say, ‘‘Jesus took little children into his
arms, not to baptize, but to bless them. No, my friends, neither
Jesus nor his disciples ever spent their time in baby-sprinkling.’’
Here he paused, holding his hand to his eye, as if in great
pain; and the people were at a loss to know what was the
matter. He finally told them that a hornet had stung him in
the eye; and the woman upon whose child he had pronounced
a blessing stated that she knew a remedy for it, at which he
immediately left and went with her, and I never saw him after.’’

In the Spring of 1789, he accompanied Bishop Asbury into
North Carolina, and was appointed to Caswell Circuit from the
THOMAS WARE. 45

Conference held at McKnight’s Church on the lith of April.
He set out for his field of labors poorly clad, and nearly penni-
less. He says, ‘‘ My coat was nearly through at the elbows, and I
had not a whole garment left, and as for boots, I had none.”
He had a very fine and valuable horse, his sole worldly property
at that time. But he had borne him through so many dangers,
and once at least, by his instinctive sagacity had saved his
life, and he could not therefore consent to part with him.
By a mysterious providence, in a few days this noble animal
sickened and died. God however raised him up friends who
supplied all his wants; and this year was among the most plea-
sant and successful of his life. He visited a settlement of Epis-
copalians; at their request he preached for them, and they
brought scores of children to be dedicated to God in baptism.
And such was the Divine influence that accompanied the services
of that afternoon, that the people could not be induced to leave;
and he continued to pray and exhort till midnight. In six
weeks he gathered a society in that place of eighty mem-
bers, mostly heads of families. ‘‘This event,’’ he says, ‘‘I1
have always deemed a Divine sanction of infant baptism ; for this
work, evidently, commenced with the baptismofinfant children. ”’

In 1790 he was appointed Presiding Elder in this district. At
one of the Quarterly Meetings in New River, a religious concern
was awakened, which pervaded a large district of country, and
suspended for many weeks almost all worldly concerns. In the
family of General Bryan, who was a barrister at law, thirty per-
sons professed conversion; twelve of whom, including the
general himself, were whites. In this family Mr. Ware spent
many happy days. In this district he was permitted to see
some of the most wonderful displays of Divine power.

A short time before he left North Carolina, he was confined
by indisposition for several days, at the house of a very aged
couple, who had been brought from a merely formal religion to
the enjoyment of its life and power through his instrumentality.
While there they wanted him to write their will. He objected on
the ground of not understanding the form which might be
requisite. They said it was very simple, and might easily be
drawn; it was that on condition of his remaining with them
46 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

through their short stay in this world, (as they had no children, )
all the property they had should be his. They were the owners
of a large farm, and mill, and other property. ‘This,’ he
writes, ‘‘was a strong inducement to exchange a life of poverty
and toil for one of affluence and ease. Had I accepted the offer,
my history would doubtless have been very different from what
it is, but I could not do it with a good conscience; so I bid them
and North Carolina adieu for ever, and returned to see my
friends in New Jersey.”’

He arrived in time to attend the Philadelphia Conference for
1791, and was appointed to Wilmington, Delaware. This was
his first station; but it was not congenial; and he sighed, as he
tells us, for the back woods, which were a paradise to him com-
pared with this suffocating borough. Religion was low, and
rowdyism so rife, that they could not hold meetings at night
without insult and abuse from street ruffians.

In 1792 he labored for a short time on Staten Island with
success, but was soon taken up and appointed to the charge of
the Susquehanna District. From this time he continued to fill
this very laborious office, till 1808, a period of sixteen years, in
succession. During his years on the Susquehanna and Albany
Districts, he had many long, dreary and dangerous rides.
He met with much opposition and many bitter revilings from the
godless ministers of a hardly formal religion. They were, how-
ever, years also of great success.

He was appointed, in 1796, to the Philadelphia District, and
resided at Strasburg. There he formed the acquaintance of
Miss Barbary Miller. ‘‘ A person,’’ he says, ‘‘whom I selected
above all others as a suitable companion for me; and on the
fifteenth of October, 1797, we were joined in holy matrimony,
she being thirty-five years of age and [ thirty-eight.’’ This year
was remarkable in his district for some very powerful and ex-
tensive revivals.

In 1800 he was changed to a District on the Peninsula. His
first year on this district was one of the happiest of his whole
life. ‘‘My health,”’ he writes, ‘‘ was good, as was also that of my
wife and child. The vine we were exerting our utmost skill
to dress, grew until it shaded all the land, and regaled us with
THOMAS WARE. 47

odoriferous flowers, and delicious fruit. Every thing went on
pleasantly. . . . The candle of the Lord shone brilliantly
about my path: and my cup was sometimes full to overflowing.”

Camp meetings had not yet been introduced, and they knew
not what to do with the thousands of people who attended their
quarterly meetings. They were sometimes forced to resort to
the woods, and even to hold their Love-feasts in the grove.
‘Some of these revivals,’’ he says, ‘‘ exceeded anything he had ever
witnessed.’’ The revival which commenced in the Strasburg circuit
extended through the peninsula, and embraced all classes, gover-
nor, judges, lawyers and statesmen, old and young, rich and poor.

At the Smyrna Conference, the work of revival went on with
great power, so that at the close of the Conference five hundred
persons were received on trial, in the church.

His cup of felicity, however, was not unmixed ; for about this
time he was called to bury his infant son. He suffered also by
some opposition growing out of political excitement, while in
this district. His position in his Conference on the question of
an address to President Adams, approving his administration
and promising him support, when it came to be known in the
district, rendered him ,exceedingly popular with the one party,
but lost him entirely the influence of the other. These latter,
though they treated him with great kindness, had the address to
effect his removal from the district.

In 1801, he again returned to the Philadelphia District. The
next year he took charge of the New Jersey District, and con-
tinued there four years. After this he was stationed two years in
the St. George’s charge, Philadelphia. Toward the close of his
term in this charge, he was attacked with a violent fever, and he
says, ‘‘ my physician deemed it proper forme to bebled. Until this
time I had not been sensible of any material decline in strength,
agility or sight: but nowI could distinctly perceive failures in each
of these.’’ Atthe following Conference, his debility was such as
to render it necessary for him to take a supernumerary relation.

At the Conference of 1810, on account of continued ill health,
he became superannuated. During this year, however, his health
improved so as to enable him to take an appointment; and he
was sent to Lancaster, Pa.
48 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

At the General Conference, which met in New York, in 1812,
he was appointed one of the book agents. He continued to serve
the church in thisoffice four years.

At the expiration of his term in the book room he was ap-
pointed to Long Island, for the second time, where he found
some of the fruits of his former labors still faithful. Mr. W.
continued in the effective work till 1825, and thus rendered full
service as an itinerant for the long period of forty years. He was
the last of the effective men that composed the Christmas Con-
ference in 1784. All had been shrouded in the grave, or retired
from the active work, before his name was transferred to the
superannuated list.

Mr. W. had been in every General Conference from the organi-
zation of the church in 1784, to that which met in Philadelphia
in 1832, where he was the sole survivor and representative of
that noble band of faithful men who originally constituted the
Methodist Episcopal Church. A body of men, who, for earnest
self-devotion, real Christian heroism and wonderful ministerial
efficiency have never been surpassed in the history of the church.

After he became supernumerary, Mr. Ware removed to Salem,
N. J. where the closing years of his life were spent ; and where he
enjoyed in a high degree the respect and confidence of the entire
community. He engaged occasionally, in active service as longas
his strength would permit, and when his ability to labor ceased
he still continued to bear an effective testimony for his Master,
by a spirit of serene submission and joyful confidence in God. He
died at his residence, in Salem, N. J., on the 11th of March, 1842.

Rev. Dr. Bangs, who knew him well, during his connection
as book agent with our publishing house in New York, says of
him: ‘‘Mr. Ware had a fine commanding person, and an ex-
pression of countenance at once pleasant and dignified. There
was nothing in his manners that savored of moroseness on the
one hand, or of levity on the other. He was a man of excel-
lent common sense, and his judgment in difficult cases could
generally be relied on with confidence and safety. He lived
through an eventful period in the history of Methodism, and in-
deed in the history of the country and of the world; and his in-
fluence for good has gone out through innumerable channels.”
DANIEL FIDLER. 49

REV. DANIEL FIDLER

Was a native of Hunterdon Co., N. J., and was born August
26,1771. Of his parents, Timothy Fidler and Ann Wilson, but
little is now known. They were in moderate circumstances, in-
dustrious and respectable, and were humble followers of Christ,
and worthy members of the Methodist Society. When Daniel
was quite young, they settled upon a farm near Hancock, Pa.,
where the father spent the balance of his days. All their sons,
except Daniel, emigrated to Ohio, in which state, together with
that of Indiana, many of their descendants are now living. The
widow survived her husband several years, and closed her life in
the West. But neither the extent to which either pilgrimage
reached, nor the date, nor manner of its close, can now be given.
Daniel assumed a profession of religion in his sixteenth year.
Of the circumstances of his awakening and conversion he has
left no account. But his subsequent stability, and rapid growth
in piety and zeal, prove the work to have been genuine. The _
Conference Obituary says, ‘‘ According to his own account, from
that time till the day of his death, he never lost the evidence of
his acceptance with God.”’ \

At this period there were no conference boundaries, the
bishops convening the preachers, at times and places, to suit the
demands of the work. Then the minutes for the year were ar-
ranged asif there had been but one Conference, and thus headed,
‘¢ Minutes taken at the several Annual Conferences * * * for
the year 1789.’’ No date, place of meeting, or names of those
admitted at each separate session, are recorded. Hence the
exact date, and place of his admission, are unknown. [If earlier
than August 26th, he was under eighteen years old. His name
is strangely omitted from the list of appointments for this year.

In 1790 he was continued on trial and sent to ‘‘Ohio.’’? In

4
50 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

1787, and the next two years, two preachers had been sent to
Ohio. Now the name of the stripling stands alone. How
gladly would we of this day, trace the footsteps of our venerated
fathers in the ministry, in their heroic journeyings through the
desert wilds of what were then frontier settlements. But this,
unfortunately, they have not left us the means of doing. One
of his sons says, ‘‘Ohio at this time was very sparsely settled,
and I have heard it stated, that in his long journeys from one
appointment to anothér, through paths seldom traveled, and
often guided only by marks on the trees, he was frequently ex-
posed to danger from the unfriendly Indians.’’ Still, how little
do we know of these dangers, of the harrowing fears they
awakened, or of those occasioned by the less unfriendly and
scarcely more savage beasts of prey, prowling through the
same inhospitable regions, or, of the fatigues and exposures of
those long journeys, their cold receptions or cruel repulses by
the unfriendly ; the coarse food, uncomfortable houses, scanty
beds, in a word, the toils, privations and hardships of this mis-
sionary life! ‘‘ But the back was fitted for the burden.’’ And
then this dark background was not unrelieved by bright con-
trasts. The constraining love of Christ, the comforting presence
of the Holy Spirit, giving support under trials, and the Divine
sanction by which labor was crowned with success, these, to-
gether with the warm congratulations of friends, the holy reviv-
ings of Christian fellowship, and the joyous anticipations of rest
in heaven, were among the offsets to their hardlot. And richly,
blessedly did they perform their kindly offices.

In 1791 he was received in full connection, ordained Deacon,
and placed in charge of Redstone Circuit, with James Coleman
for a colleague.

In 1792 the minutes read, ‘‘ Rockingham, Daniel Fidler,
Elijah Sparks.’’ The exact scene of his labors up to this time
cannot be determined. Dr. Stevens, after referring to the ab-
sence of his name from the list in 1789, says, ‘‘ During the next
four years he traveled circuits, which extended through the
western sections of Virginia and Pennsylvania into Ohio, a re-
gion which then lay on the western frontier of the nation.”’
This, though indefinite, is probably correct, as to the scene of
DANIEL FIDLER. 51

his labors, but not as to the extent of time. He spent about
three and a half years, including the first, in the region named,
and was then sent by Dr. Coke, to Nova Scotia, to aid in carry-
ing out his self-sacrificing and zeal-taxing missionary enterprizes.
Stevens’ ‘‘ Memorials, and the Conference Obituary, which he
probably followed, fix the time of his going East, in 1794. But
Dr. Coke says, he was in that service six years, which he left in
the fall of 1798. And he himself says, ‘‘ May 30, 1794. After
spending near eighteen months in Liverpool, I embarked for
Halifax, &c.’’ This fixes his arrival in the Province at about
December, 1792.

In 1793 the minutes contain his name as a Deacon, but not in
the list of appointments. Nor is Nova Scotia mentioned. But
in 1794 this entry occurs. ‘‘ Nova Scotia, Wm. Jessop, Isaac
Lunsford, Daniel Fidler, Benj. Wilson, James Boyd, James
Mann, John Mann, Richard Sockett.’’ After this, Nova Scotia
is again omitted. z

His first circuit in the Province lay on the South-eastern
coast. At the end of one year he began to keep a private diary,
or, as seems likely, from its abrupt beginning, the parts dating
earlier have not been preserved. Itcontains various interestin
incidents of travel, observation and experience. Want of space
will compel us to be sparing of extracts. We insert the first
entry on account of its singularity. ‘‘ January 1,1794. Yester-
day I was at the burial of Mrs. Cheevers, who by all appearance
has been possessed of the devil for eighteen months. She used
the most profane language and horid imprecations I ever heard
from any mortal being.’’ Here is another, showing the prevailing
religious destitution. ‘‘ It is very lamentable that there are about
one hundred persons now out of this place (Liverpool) gone to the
West Indies, and not more than three or four professors of reli-
gionamong them. Itappears Jacob is very small, by whom shall
herise?’’ Still God was with the few. He says, ‘‘ Last Thursday
evening at class, we had a signal display of sovereign grace.’’
He also gives account of numerous other gracious seasons, and of
personal religious comfort. and growth. Accessions to the society
were gradual, with increase toward the close of his term. Of
a visit to an out appointment, he says, ‘‘Sailed ina shallop to
52 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

Port Moulton, preached three times, and baptized an adult and
eight children. Bless God, I had a comfortable time, liberty in
speaking, power in prayer, and satisfaction in conversation. The
Lord has begun a good work here in the hearts of several
persons.”’

After eighteen months they met in Conference at Horton, in
the central part of the Province. His next field was Annapolis,
on its Western shore. He found the society in a good condition.
Referring to his second sermon, he says, ‘‘I have hardly seen
such a time of power, since, in Nova Scotia. I added two to the
class.’’ Again he says, ‘‘ July 16th, I preached at a Mr. Shaw’s,
ten miles below Annapolis. The Lord was present. Several
were much affected. Glory to God, I trust my labors are
not in vain on the circuit. I see a good prospect, and feel my
soul more and more given up to God and his work.”’

An episode now occurs. After spending ten weeks on this
circuit he crossed the Bay to St. John’s, New Brunswick, and,
September 1, 1794, sailed for New York. The vessel halting
off Martha’s Vineyard, he went on shore, and preached to a
numerous audience, principally from theirs and other vessels. He
had much liberty, and received the warm congratulations of
several hearers. The passage was so tedious that they were
twenty days in reaching New York, but all arrived safely and
well. He was barely in time to meet the Conference, and enjoy,
for a few days, the society of his brethren. He was elected to
Elder’s Orders, and was ordained, September 26, by Bishop
Asbury. :

He made a hurried visit to an uncle’s in Princeton, N. J.,
where he preached; thence to Trenton, Philadelphia, and Bal-
timore, all by stage. Here he spent a precious Sunday. He
assisted Rev. J. McClasky at the communion in the morning,
and preached afternoon and evening. He arrived at his father’s,
Oct. 11th, after an absence of about two years. He remained
till the 22d, and preached with much comfort to his old ac-
quaintances. He then took affectionate leave of relatives and
friends, and set out to retrace his tedious journey. He spent
another Sunday in Baltimore. Bishop Asbury preached, and
ordained five elders and seven deacons. He tarried three days
in Philadelphia, and on his arrival in New York had an affect-
DANIEL FIDLER. 53

ing interview with a convict, who expected to be executed in a
few days. He believed he was converted, and went to attend
his last moments. But arespite for three months came to hand
just previous to the fatal hour. November 16th he preached in
Brooklyn, and for the first time administered the communion.
He sailed, December 5th, for St. John’s, and arrived on the
11th, thankful for a brief, pleasant passage.

While absent, he had been assigned to St. Ann’s Circuit.
This threw him in the Province of New Brunswick. After a
pleasant Sunday in St. John’s, he says, ‘‘ Monday I set off for
Sheffield, and arrived there on Saturday. I suffered more in
traveling than ever in my life before. But, bless the Lord, I
found his presence, and am still resolved to press on to declare
the council of God, though my trials are heavy. January 1st,
1795, set off for St. Ann’s. The next day I arrived there, and
waited upon his Excellency, the Governor. He gave me his ap-
probation to preach. Blessed be God, now I have full liberty.’”’
After nearly five months, for some unexplained reason, he was
sent to another field. He says, ‘‘I left the circuit with great
reluctance. I find my heart much united to this people.”’

The Conference met at Windsor, N. S., but he could not get
across the Bay in time. While waiting in St. John’s, he
preached, and a notorious sinner was awakened, whom he bap-
tized, together with his wife and six children. He finally got
across the Bay only to learn that his field was St. John’s, and
then had to wait two weeks before he could get back. He soon
learned of some disorder in the society, which greatly oppressed
him. But he cast his burden on the Lord, and was sustained.
Aug. 26, 1795, he writes, ‘‘ My birthday—twenty-four years old.
I see the goodness of God in preserving me. I bless his holy
name, more than eight years I trust I have enjoyed the love of
God, and about six have been in the line of a traveling preacher.
And I can say, I am not weary of his service.’”” Much of his
time was spent on the outposts of the circuit, and the latter part
of the year on that of Frederickton. This year closed his labors
in New Brunswick. They had been attended with considerable
success, with many profitable seasons and much personal religious
enjoyment. But he also passed through seasons of severe trial
and discouragement.
54 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

The Conference met in Windsor again in May, 1796. Only
six preachers were present. He says, ‘‘We conversed freely,
and transacted our business in much love. Religion is prosper-
ing in Windsor. More than twenty have been added to the so-
ciety, and many of them truly converted to God.’’ From this
and other remarks, it appears that nearly all who then joined on
probation, did so as seekers. He was now sent to Shelburne, far
down on the south-eastern coast, and a long journey from Fre-
derickton. But he was a lone wanderer, with but few effects to
impede his travel. He gives several interesting incidents of the
journey. Two young evangelists by the name of Newton had
been instrumental in promoting a great revival in Liverpool and
vicinity. He preached to his old friends with unwonted power.
The occasion was affecting and profitable in a high degree. The
flame had also spread to Port Moulton, and began to extend over
his new circuit. Many were converted at ‘‘Sable River.’”’ Up
to Dec. 1 he baptized one hundred adults and children. And
though he made many long journeys on foot, and passed through
severe trials and hardships, yet these rounds on his extensive cir-
cuit were like the triumphal marches of a conqueror. He
preached with great freedom, and the word was often ‘‘in de-
monstration of the Spirit and of power.’’ He exulted much in
the triumphs of the cross and in the rich indwelling of the love
of Christ.

He remained on this circuit till June 1, 1798, and then went
to Halifax to take the place of Rev. Wm. Black, the Superin-
tendent, while he made a tour of supervision. Preserved letters
show that a confidential and cordial intimacy existed between
these co-laborers. In reference to Halifax, he says, ‘‘I found
great liberty and satisfaction in preaching here. The congrega-
tions are very large.’’ The Conference met in the old place,
June 13. He was returned to Halifax. The trip to and from
Conference was a tour of successful evangelicallabor. Referring to
his term in Halifax, he says, ‘‘Spent my time agreeably and pro-
fitably till October 11th. Then left my dear Halifax friends, and
sailed for Shelburne; called at Liverpool, and spent a few hours
very agreeably with my dear old friends: arrived safely at Shel-
burne on the 13th. . . . I still find various trials and pow-
erful conflicts, but the Lord is my helper ; in Him I find comfort.
DANIEL FIDLER. 55

He is my portion; may I glorify Him in my body and spirit,
which are his.’ He was detained in Shelburne one month with
that loathsome disease, the small-pox, but did not have it badly.
Thus singularly closed his eventful and successful career in this
distant, and then dreary, region. . He sailed for New York Nov.
13, 1798, and landed on the 21st.

His diary, which covers not quite five years, shows that he
traversed most of the Province of Nova Scotia and .a large por-
tion of New Brunswick, preached to crowded houses in the two
capitals and other large towns, and was favored with consider-
able success in these centres of population. But his labors were
not confined to them. He took long journeys into sparsely-set-
tled districts, preached wherever openings offered, went from
house to house, visiting the sick, burying the dead, warning sin-
ners, instructing penitents, and freely mingling with and encou-
raging the humble poor in a most unostentatious and laborious
manner. ;

His after fields were: 1799, Wilmington; 1800, Sandwich ;
1801, Greenwich and Rhode Island; 1802, Harford ; 1803, Ca-
roline; 1804, Prince George’s; 1805, Allegheny; 1806, Balti-
more Circuit; 1807, Fell’s Point; 1808, located. In 1811, New
Mills; 1812, Bergen; 1813 and 1814, Cumberland: 1815, Glou-
cester ; 1816, Dover; 1817, located. In 1818, New Mills; 1819,
Freehold; 1820, Cumberland ; 1821, Cecil ;.1822 and 1823, Bris-
tol; 1824, superannuated. In 1825, Juliastown and Wrights-
town, aS supernumerary; 1826, New Mills; 1827, Caroline:
1828, Dover; 1829, Chester; 1830, Waynesburg; 1831, super-
numerary. He retained this relation till 1842, when it was
changed to superannuated.

The above transcript from the minutes is an interesting re-
cord. Together with what precedes it covers fifty-three years,
during four of which he was located, superannuated, one; and
supernumerary, twelve, leaving thirty-six to the effective minis-
try. And then how wide the range and how checkered the
pathways of his itinerant meanderings! After nearly three years
and a half on four extended fields in the far West, he passed to
the distant Provinces of Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, large
portions of whose territory he traversed during six years on as
many circuits. Then one year in Wilmington, Del., one in
56 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

Massachusetts, one partly in that State and partly in Rhode
Island. Then one in Harford, Md., one in Carlisle, Pa., next
Prince George’s in the southern part of Md., then Allegheny, in
its western extremity, and then Baltimore and Fell’s Point.
His name next stands at New Mills, now Pemberton, N. J.,
then Bergen, near New York, and then back to South Jersey, at
Cumberland and Gloucester. Thence across to Dover, Del.,
and then back to New Mills. Then in turn at Freehold and
Cumberland. Thence Cecil, Md., next Bristol, Pa., and then athird
time at New Mills. Next to Caroline, Md., then Dover, some-
where in West Jersey, and finally Chester, and then Waynes-
burg, Pa. As supernumerary his name stands in connection
with Juliustown, Pemberton, Medford and New Egypt. By
noticing how frequent and long these removals were, we see how
thoroughly the itinerancy of our fathers stands in contrast with
that of the present day.

He is twice marked located. That in 1808, is readily ac-
counted for. He was married, June 6, 1806, to Sarah, daughter
of Abraham Larsh, of Baltimore. At this period, the lack of
support drove nearly all married men out of the itinerancy.
For two years his fields of Jabor were convenient to the home of
his wife. Then he entered the mercantile business in Balti-
more. But his wife died Feb. 14, 1811, leaving one child, who
is now (1864) a local preacher in Cape May County, N. J.
This sad bereavement furnished both an opening and a call to
resume his life-work, which he at once did. The other location
was the result of a difficulty in the administration of discipline.
He retired as a peace measure, but at the close of one year
resumed his work, the matter having been amicably settled.

January 12, 1812, he was married to Margaret, daughter of
Levi Budd, of New Mills, and sister of Rev. T. L. Budd, late
of the Philadelphia Conterence. Six sons were the issue of this
marriage. Isaac Hilliard, Esq., of Pemberton, a brother-in-law,
says of Mrs. Fidler, ‘‘I had full opportunity of witnessing her
manner of life. I never in all our intercourse, heard her utter
an improper word or saw her do an improper act. She was
truly an ‘Israelite indeed.’ She was a remarkable woman.
‘Take her for all and all, I never expect to look upon her like
again.’’’ He also says, ‘‘I must reiterate in substance what I
DANIEL FIDLER. 57

have above written, that in my earthly pilgrimage, now some-
what lengthened out, I have never met her equal.’’

She was a woman of superior natural parts, more than usual
literary tastes, considerable culture, and of such industry, fru-
gality and good management, as to make a slender income
minister to the comfort of her family. After 1817 she did not
move with her husband, and the care and training of the chil-
dren devolved mainly upon her, which she managed with skill
and success. She survived her husband over fifteen years, the
last three of which were spent in Lambertville with her son
Thomas. Her last illness was protracted and severe, but did
not find her unprepared.

“ Life’s fitful fever over, she sleeps well.”

She joined her companion in Paradise, October 27, 1857, being
in her seventy-first year. The hard necessities of our itinerent
fathers are shown by an incident connected with her funeral.
The friends were invited to the house of Mr. Hilliard. This
was the only time all the children were ever together at once.
The eldest had left home before the youngest was born, and
they were never all at home at one time; nor will they all meet
again on earth, for one has since crossed the cold river. May
the parents, who never yet saw all their children together, greet
them all in their heavenly home!

Our materials and space are both limited, so that we cannot
farther trace the toils and successes of our subject. His early
literary advantages were evidently quite limited; and if he failed
to push his after researches to the extent of some of his com-
peers, still he possessed qualifications which rendered him an
able and successful herald of the gospel. Sterling sense pre-
sided over all his movements. He reared the standard of the
cross, and kept its banner to the breeze with a steady arm and
an unfaltering step. But he sought to conceal himself behind
that waving banner. Indeed, no man whose name adorns our
history, presents a more striking instance of self-abnegation.
His diary shows that he passed through many hardships. Yet
he does not utter a single complaint, nor once refer to his fare or
compensation. But it is full of allusions to kind friends and to
the supports and comforts of religion. The figures that repre-
58 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

sent his salary would afford an interesting item, but owing to his
great modesty and unselfishness, he did not preserve them.
Stevens’ ‘‘Memorials’’ give them for one of the years he was in
New England. ‘‘Timothy Merritt had received during the
year $63.50; Epaphras Kibby, $35.50; Joshua Soule, $45.36 ;
Daniel Fidler, $32.25, the smallest amount recorded. He had
suffered well, as a volunteer, the privations of the New England
itinerancy for two years, and was allowed now to retreat south-
ward, to his original and tore favorable fields of labor in the
middle states.’ His pay is understood to have been unusually
small even for those times. One of his sons says, ‘‘I do not
know what father received from the church while he was in
active service. He was never known to complain. His own
and his wife’s patrimony, with their economy and frugality,
made up for all deficiencies.’’ His cheerful, hopeful, happy
piety, stands in most striking and instructive contrast with his
meagre support, his toils and hardships.

He was held in high esteem by Dr. Coke. In the year 1800
the Doctor selected him for a missionary to the ‘‘ Providence
Islands,” but for some unknown reason he did not go. Drafts
on the missionary funds, and letters of introduction to different
parties, were prepared. To the Governor General of the Bahama
Islands the Doctor says, ‘‘The bearer, Rev. Mr. Fidler, is a
minister of the gospel and my friend. He labored in the minis-
try for six years, under my direction in Nova Scotia. I have a
very high opinion of his honor, integrity and loyalty. His pri-
mary design is to be beneficial to the blacks and colored people,
but he is a man of ability sufficient to be beneficial to any.’’ To
a brother minister the Doctor writes, ‘‘ He has traveled eleven
years, and is therefore your senior, and consequently will rank
as the chief superintendent of the work.’’ Of his term in Nova
Scotia, the Doctor says, ‘‘I have reason to believe he gave very
complete satisfaction to the government, to our societies, and to
all who knew him.’’ A long letter addressed to him, shows that
the Doctor felt it no disparagement to hold with him relations
of cordial intimacy.

His social qualities were of a high order. Mr. Hilliard says,
“He was courteous and conciliatory in his manners, very agree-
able in social intercourse, and punctual to all the duties pertain-

ee
DANIEL FIDLER. 59

ing to his ministerial office. Asa husband he was always kind,
attentive and affectionate. Similar terms will also apply to his
care and treatment of his children.”” And when he asked his
wife what he should say of her brother-in-law, she replied, ‘‘Say
he was a good man, punctual to all his appointments, kind and
courteous to all.’’ Rev. T. M‘Carrol is said to have enlarged,
at his funeral, upon his amiability of disposition, his uncom-
plaining manner in receiving and prosecuting his various fields
of labor, and his faithfulness in striving to cultivate them all
with credit and success.

We have not the means of giving a distinct estimate of his
talents as a minister. His preserved written preparations are
mere skeletons. A majority of the texts are taken from the Old
Testament, but 'the themes are full of the marrow of the gospel.
They are treated in a plain, unpretentious way, but with a direct-
ness and earnestness of appeal that aimed at both immediate
and lasting fruits. He is not understood to have ranked high
as a pulpit orator, but his strong sense, his familiarity with the
Bible, and his ready gifts in expounding and enforcing its teach-
ings, aided by a deep Christian experience, an impressive man-
ner, and an earnest desire for success, rendered him an efficient
minister ofthe gospel.

His diary, pulpit themes, and the genial, mellow temper with
which he came out of the severe trials of his long and eventful
career, combine to show that he had attained large measures of
saving grace. It is not possible to human nature, for one to
pass through what he did, and not thereby be rendered morose,
imperious and inflexible, without a deep imbuement of the spirit
of holiness. Nor is this a mere inference in his case, as his
written sketches and recorded struggles and conquests clearly
show. Dr. Coke, also, says to him, ‘‘I am glad to find by bro-
ther Asbury, that you universally press upon your believing
hearers, the necessity of sanctification and entire devotedness to
God ; and that you guard them from seeking this, as it were, by
deeds of the law, and that you urge them to believe now on a
present Saviour, for a present salvation.’’ This none do, who
are not themselves familiar with this great salvation. ‘‘ Mark
the perfect man and behold the upright, for the end of that man
is peace.”’
60 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

The Conference Obituary says, ‘‘ In the year 1831, he was in-
duced from the infirmities of age, and other considerations, to
take a supernumerary relation. He continued, however, as his
health would permit, to preach and labor with increasing zeal and
acceptance, till within a few months of his death. After having
served the church, asa faithful and accredited minister, for more
than half a century, he preached his last sermon, Sabbath
evening, June 30, 1842, from Ex. xxxii. 18: ‘‘And he said, I
beseech thee show me thy glory.’? While the venerable man of
God, was elucidating this impressive text, and especially, while
he contemplated the manifested and unvailed glory of God, which
the faithful finally shall enjoy,

“When the voyage of life’s at an end,
The mortal affliction is past,” *

his soul seemed to kindle into rapture, as he realized the time
of his departure at hand. About this time his health began
more rapidly to decline, and his mind, sympathizing consider-
ably with his failing tenement of clay, was bewildered, which
made it difficult for him sometimes, to fix his thoughts for any
length of time on temporal subjects ; but on the subject of reli-
gion, he was clear, calm, and dispassionate, up to the latest hour
of life. .

The last time he met with the people of God on earth,
for public worship, was about four weeks previous to his
death, on a quarterly occasion. It was peculiarly affecting
to see him as he knelt with solemn reverence at the table
of the Lord, and received in his trembling hand the affect-
ing emblems of the broken body and shed blood of his Divine
Redeemer. Indeed he appeared to engage in all the religious
exercises of that blessed Sabbath morning, with more than ordi-
nary interest and spiritual fervor. Many of the members of the
church in Pemberton will long remember the deep-toned feelings
with which he spoke in the Love-feast, of mercies past and
present, and of his brightening prospects of a certain and
glorious immortality. From this time he gradually failed,
until the morning of the 27th of August, when he fell asleep in
Jesus.
JAMES MOORE. 61

REV. JAMES MOORE.

“He was a good man, and full of the Holy Ghost, and of faith: and
much people were added unto the Lord.”

THERE are many beautifully-winding streams around us, rolling
their broad, deep, silvery tides to the ocean, of whose sources in
the distant mountains we know but little. The same is true of
some men. They come upon the stage of action, perform their
life-parts well, and then sink down into death, and are buried
amongst us, of whose early history we have little knowledge.

These remarks apply to James Moore, the subject of this
sketch. After his death the following little memorandum was
found amongst his papers, which contains nearly all the reliable
information we have of' his early life.

‘¢T was born in Ireland, in the county of Tyrone, 1760 ; joined
the Methodist Society in 1786: came to America 1792; joined
the Philadelphia Conference in 1794; now in the fortieth year
of my age; still bound for heaven; happy in my soul this morn-
ing. All glory to God. JAmEs Moors.”

SaLem Circuit, June 3, 1809.

Before coming to this country, however, he received license to
preach, and subsequently married, and two or three children
were born to him; but, while on his way to America, his wife
died, and was buried in the sea; so that when he arrived here, he
was a widower, with these little helpless children, a stranger in
a strange land. But his trust was in God, who did not forsake
him.

Our narrative commences more particularly with 1794, the
year he joined the Philadelphia Conference. In those days the
Methodist itinerancy was more than a name; it was a great system
for evangelizing the world, involving labor, sacrifice, and suffer-
62 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

ing. Yet these old Gospel heroes endured all with such uni-
form cheerfulness, that the contemplation of it is refreshing and
inspiring to the soul.

James Moore’s first appointment was to the rough regions of
Tioga county, Pa. There were then but one hundred and
thirteen members of the Methodist Church, within the bounds
of his widely-extended circuit, and we may well suppose his fare
was rough, and his remuneration, apart from an assurance of
the Divine approval, almost nothing. Persons sometimes objected
to admit him to their houses; he had to go without regular meals,
swim rivers, face the mountain tempests, and, on one occasion, re-
fused lodgings in the house, he slept all night beside a hay-stack.

From this rough country, he was sent in 1795, to the more
congenial scenes of Cecil Circuit, Md., and in 1796 to Frederick
Circuit. While these were years of much sacrifice and suffering,
they were also years of great spiritual power, so much so, that
the Conference ordered the last Thursday of October, 1796,
to be observed as a day of general thanksgiving, ‘‘for such
signal displays of Divine power in the Methodist Society

within the space of twenty-six years, through the continent of
America ; for the late powerful and glorious work we have had
in Virginia and Maryland, and which still continues in an emi-
nent and special manner in some parts of our American con-
nection,” &¢., &e.

In 1797, he was stationed with Wilson Lee, in the city of
Philadelphia. The district with which Philadelphia was then
connected, stands on the minutes of that early day, as follows.
Thos. Ware, Presiding Elder; Wilmington, Ezekiel Cooper;
Chester, Wm. Colbert; Strasburg, Wm. P. Chandler; Bristol,
Chas. Cavender, Rich. Lyon; Northumberland, John Lacky,
D. Higly ; Wyoming, R. Benton; Tioga, James Stokes ; Seneca,
Anning Owen, J. Dunham; Philadelphia, Wilson Lee, Jas.
Moore.

It was a vast district, covering territory now occupied by parts
of several of our leading and most influential conferences.

But large as was the field, the entire membership on all that
ground, including the city of Philadelphia, which now contains
about forty Methodist Churches, was less than two thousand, of
JAMES MOORE. 63

which number, between two and three hundred were colored.
But the men who fought the Lord’s battles in those days, were
mighty through God, to the pulling down of the strong-holds of
sin. Anning Owen was on this district. Seeing his name, re-
minds the writer of a conversation, serving to illustrate the
character of the men who preached the gospel in our church at
that early day. “

I was riding in 1858, through the far-famed, and romantic
Wyoming Valley, in company with Rev. A. H. Schoonmaker,
of the Wyoming Conference. Approaching Kingston, Bro-
ther Schoonmaker pointed out an old frame building, by the
road-side. ‘‘There,’’ said he, ‘‘is the dwelling of the first
Methodist, who also became the first Methodist Minister in
Wyoming Valley, Anning Owen.”’ It was truly an humble
dwelling, but I looked at it with akind of reverence, when I
learned it had been the home of one of God’s nobility. ‘‘ Yon-
der,’’ continued Brother Schoonmaker, pointing towards the
west, ‘‘is Ross hill, on the farther side of which, Brother Owen
formed the first class that existed in this part of the country,
from which sprang the Oneida, Genesee, Black River, Michigan,
and part of the Ohio Conferences.’’ Brother Owen was a man
for his times. Walking with an infidel one day, they came to
where the road divided. As they separated, Brother Owen said
to his companion, solemnly, ‘‘ Eternity is long, and hell is hot;
good-bye.’’ The next time they met, the infidel was a Chris-
tian,

In 1798, Brother Moore was appointed to Bristol Circuit, Pa.,
and in 1799, with Benjamin Bidlack, to the classic Wyoming
and Northumberland vallies, through which the peaceful Sus-
quehanna pours her silvery waters to the sea. Benjamin Bid-
lack is an historic character ; Wyoming was not only the home of
his childhood, but here he resided a number of years in after
life, and finally died, and was buried in the midst of its un-
equaled beauties. In order to give a clear view of the men of
those times, the reader will be pleased with a few facts, concern-
ing Benjamin Bidlack, the colleague of James Moore, in 1799.
Dr. Peck, in his work on Wyoming, says :—

‘‘ Benjamin Bidlack served his country under General Wash-
64 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

ington, through the entire period of the Revolutionary war.
He was at Boston, when Washington took charge of the army
to oppose General Gage. He was at Trenton on the taking of
the Hessians. He was at Yorktown, on the occasion of the
surrender of Cornwallis; and was in Washington’s camp at
Newburg, when the army was disbanded. He was a tall, large-
boned, powerful man, and a good soldier.”

‘Some time before the close of the last Pennamite and
Yankee war, young Bidlack undertook some sort of a commer-
cial expedition down the Susquehanna river. At Sunbury he
was made a prisoner by the Pennsylvanians, and confined in a place
which they called a jail. He was a splendid singer, and a merry
fellow. Like many of the old soldiers, he was addicted to strong
drink, and on evenings, when jolly circles love to assemble to
while away an hour, to shake off the burdens of business, or to
stimulate their exhausted nerves, by the exhilarating draught,
a company were accustomed to gather upon the stoop, and hear
Bidlack sing songs, of course offering him a sufficiency of the
desired stimulant. The number of those gatherings increased
from evening to evening, and the songs, the romantic stories,
and the jokes of the soldier, became increasingly interesting,
until he had become an object of more absorbing interest in the
little town of Sunbury, than a company of minstrels is now in
one of our large cities.’’

‘“The company were finally not quite satisfied with seeing the
face of their interesting prisoner through the grates of the
prison, but wished to view him at full length, as he poured out
his harmonious and powerful numbers. The door was accord-
ingly opened, and he stood upon the threshold ; but here he was
too much cramped, and his gestures were evidently impeded by
his position. ‘What's the use,’ said one, ‘let him have room.’
And he was then allowed to come out and give himself free
scope in gesticulation. He wasa tall, straight, majestic figure.
The more room he had, the more fully did his sallies, cuts, and
thrusts, illustrate and enforce the sentiment, either sense or
nonsense, of the poetry, and the higher was the excitement, and
the louder the bursts of laughter amongst the merry companions
of the gathering.”

‘* Evening after evening passed away in these exercises with-
JAMES MOORE. 65

out the least abatement of interest, when, at a late hour, the
gallant hero of the farce would throw himself upon his pallet of
straw, and sleep away the excitement of the maddening bowl.”

‘* Understanding perfectly his position, and noticing that the
sympathies of his nightly visitors, and the confidence he had in-
spired in their minds, had completely put them off their guard,
he began to meditate turning the advantages of these circum-
stances to his account. He studied the matter thoroughly,
and:arranged his plans.”

‘*He finally came out with a new song, entitled, ‘The old
swaggering man.’ ‘That’s the song for me,’ said one. ‘The
best one yet,’ said another. ‘ Let’s have that over again,’ roared
athird. ‘ Well,’ said the performer, ‘let me rest a little, and take
a good drink.’ ‘ Yes, yes,’ all responded. After a few minutes
intermission, and the drink of course, ‘ Now,’ says the actor,
‘if you want a rouser, I must have a cane, and room to act it
out. I want the whole length of the stoop.’ ‘Bring on the
cane! clear the way, clear the way!’ bawled a dozen. He sang
one stanza, and then came on the chorus, ‘Here goes the
old swaggering man.’ He brandished his cane, and staggered

-and plunged from end to end of the stoop. <A roar of merri-
ment, and shouts of applause resounded through the whole
neighborhood. He now faced about, breathed hard, took
another drink, but this time his movement was in the direction
of Wyoming. He sang another verse, and then roared out the
chorus, ‘Here goes the old swaggering man,’ and in a trice
sprang from the stoop, leaped the six foot rail-fence, which sur-
rounded the premises, and was out of sight.’’

‘« Some were petrified with astonishment, others cursed, while
others laughed immodérately. ‘After him! after him,’ cried
the jailer. Half a dozen ran a few rods in the dark, and then
pausing to listen, heard his heavy tread dying away in the dis-
tance. ‘There’s no use,’ said they, ‘he can out-run a deer.”’
They returned to have a hearty laugh over the romantic ad-
venture of the jolly Yankee prisoner.’’

‘The next day our hero arrived safely at his father’s house in
Plymouth, a distance of fifty miles, performed on foot, having
sung himself out of prison.”

5
66 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

‘‘ Young Bidlack married an Alden, a descendant of a family
of that name, who came to this country in the May Flower. He
struggled hard with poverty, and still harder with his old army
habits, but made no progress, and there seemed no human
probability of his improving either his character or his fortune.
At length he became awakened through the instrumentality of
the pioneers of Methodism, and finally became a Methodist
preacher. He had great pulpit power, and was as great a singer
of the songs of Zion as he had been of the old patriotic
ballads.’”’

Such was the mettle of some of the men with whom James
Moore was associated. And such men, changed by the gospel,
and nerved for their work by the Divine Spirit, were overwhelm-
ingly powerful in their efforts for good. Brother Moore’s sub-
sequent appointments were numerous and widely separated.
Leaving Wyoming, we find him in 1800 up in New York on
Oneida and Cayuga Circuit. In 1801-2 he is down in Maryland
on Talbot Circuit. His years on this charge were perhaps the
most extensively successful of any of his protracted ministry.
Eighteen hundred souls were converted during his term of service
there, so that at the close of his labors he reported a nett in-
crease of sixteen hundred and eighty-three members. In 1803 he
was appointed to Queen Ann’s, and there was an addition of
Jive hundred and twenty-two souls. 1804 was spent on Lewis-
town, and 1805 on Chester Circuit. In 1806 he crossed into
New Jersey, and labored on Freehold Circuit, and then in
1807-8 on Elizabethtown.

In that day all the circuits were large. Elizabethtown ex-
tended. from the Raritan on the south to Haverstraw on the
north, taking in Staten Island and all the ground from the Hud-
son back to Morris County, including Newark, Belleville, &e.
Jacob Hevener was Brother Moore’s colleague the first year, and
Thos. Stratton the second. Joseph Totten was Presiding Elder.
There were accessions to the Church all over the circuit, and all
hearts were joyful. At that time there was a quarterly meeting
held at Belleville. The preacher in charge had been all round
the circuit, calling on the people to come up to this great feast
of the Lord. The attendance was likely to be large. John
JAMES MOORE. 67

Williams, but recently deceased, was then a young man, and
just converted. Knowing that very few of the members of the
church in that place had barns, he wonders what they will do
with the horses at quarterly meeting. Fortunately there was in
the immediate vicinity of the church a six acre pasture lot.
This occurred to his mind, and, going to its owner, hired its use.
When quarterly meeting came, they turned their horses in. It
was an exciting scene. The boys of the village, to whom all
these things were new, looked and wondered; and as they sat
on the fence surrounding the lot, counted forty horses, grays and
bays, black and white, well fed and lean, all feeding harmoni-
ously together, while their pious owners were shouting the high
praises of God in the church a few hundred yards distant. At
night, the good sisters would divide and subdivide their beds,
spread out their quilts and comforters upon the floor, so that
long lines of happy and welcome visitors might rest their weary
limbs. These quarterly meeting occasions were great events,
and looked forward to with high anticipations. So numerously
were they sometimes attended, that at one of these gatherings
in Belleville the table of Rev. John Dow, a celebrated local
preacher there, supplied the wants of one hundred and eighteen
persons.

While James Moore was on Elizabethtown Circuit, the bre-
thren in Belleville conceived the idea that measures should be
taken to build a church in Newark. A meeting was accordingly
ealled, and three men, Richard Lecraft, John Dow, and Charles
Marsh, all that were present, resolved to build a church in that
town. The result was, that in a little over one year the Hal-
sey St. Church was completed, at a cost of nearly three thou-
sand dollars.

From 1809 to 1816, his appointments were as follows: Salem
and Asbury, N. J., Union and St. George’s, Philadelphia, Cecil,
Talbot and Caroline, Md., and Dover, Del.

In 1817 he labored on Burlington Circuit with the saintly Jo-
seph Lybrand for his colleague. An amusing incident occurred
at a quarterly meeting on this circuit. Brother B. W., who had
license to exhort, would sometimes take a text and try to preach
from it. Brother Moore thought this course highly improper,
68 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

and brought the matter before the Quarterly Conference, asking
the Presiding Elder ‘‘ what was to be done with an exhorter who
took a text and preached from it.’’ Before the Presiding Elder
had time to speak, Brother Stiles, one of the stewards, sprang
to his feet, and asked in reply, ‘‘what was to be done with a
preacher who took a text and exhorted from it.’’ As the latter
was Brother Moore’s frequent practice, a hearty laugh was had
at his expense, and Brother B. W. was allowed to take his own
course.

From 1818 to 1821, he is again on the lower section of the
work, laboring on Smyrna, Kent, Caroline, and Somerset Cir-
cuits. In 1822 he is up amongst the hills of Warren County
again, preaching to his old friends on Asbury Circuit. In 1823,
he is on Gloucester Circuit. 1824, Lancaster, Pa. In 1825 he
returns to Freehold: in 1826, Trenton; in 1827, after an absence
of eighteen years, he returns the second time to Salem, N. J.
In 1828-9 he is along the sea-shore, on Bargaintown Circuit.
Here, after an uninterrupted course of ministerial labor extend-
ing over this wide and varied territory for a period of thirty-five
years, his physical energies gave way, and in 1830 he was obliged
to ask for a supernumerary relation, and the years of his effective
ministry closed. Is it not remarkable, in view of the hardships
and exposures of those early days, that it did not close before?
But these men were not only divinely fitted for their work, they
were also divinely sustained while engaged in its performance.

During all these years of exhausting labor, he was without the
enjoyments of a settled home, having, as already stated, lost his
wife at sea, and never re-married.

James Moore was not a man of learning ; his opportunities for
mental culture were few, and yet he was a man of marked
power. That power was largely attributable to his wonderful
simplicity. His public exercises were conversations with his
congregation rather than formal sermons. But there was a
power in his words that few could resist. Christian experience
was his great theme; and so confident was he of the truthful-
ness of his statements, that he would often exclaim in the midst
of his discourses, with a great deal of genuine Christian and
Trish fervency, ‘‘ Z's as true as ould Jeemes Moore stands here
JAMES MOORE. 69

this day,’’ and then appealing to any one in the congregation
whose eye chanced to meet his, would continue, ‘“‘ Ain’tit so, Bro-
ther A.?’’ and then Brother A., and perhaps a score of others,
would respond with an emphatic ‘‘ Yes,’’ a volley of hearty
amens, or floods of tears. He was a great singer, too, and would
almost invariably come down the pulpit steps, after sermon,
singing his favorite air,

“Ts there anybody here like a weeping Mary?
Call on my Saviour and he’ll draw nigh.”

Advancing in his song, he would insert in the succeeding
couplets in the place of ‘‘ weeping Mary,”’ ‘‘a doubting Tho-
mas,’’ or ‘‘a sinking Peter.’’ Then, having gained the sym-
pathy of his audience, with tears streaming from his own eyes,
his whole soul would break forth :

“Ts there anybody here that wants their souls converted ?
Call on my Saviour and he’ll draw nigh,
O glory, glory, glory be to my God on high.”

It was a rare thing that some did not respond to these calls;
and thousands newly born to God have united with him in
singing :

“O glory, glory, glory be to my God on high.”

He excelled in prayer. His petitions took hold of the strength
of God, and his unyielding faith and fervent supplications
were uniformly successful. The following instance will illustrate
this point. James Moore was a frequent visitor at a relative’s
of the writer, where he was highly esteemed. He happened
there one day in midsummer, while they were engaged in
gathering hay. Several acres of grass had been cut and cured,
and were now ready to be stored away for winter use. The
farmer, his sons, and all the help he could procure, were taxing
their energies to secure the crop before it should be injured by a
heavy thunder shower which was rapidly approaching. The
heavens grew darker and darker—the loud thunder roared and
the lightnings flashed. They were now ready to commence on
their last load, but the rain was pouring in torrents only a few
70 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

hundred yards off, and seeing they could not finish, orders were
given for a hasty retreat to the barn. The field was near the
house, and just at that moment, Father Moore came to the door,
and seeing how matters were, called aloud to the men, saying,
“Continue your labors, and while you work, I will stay here and
pray for the rain to be stayed.’’ The venerable man then took his
stand in the doorway, and lifting up his hands and eyes and
voice to heaven, prayed most fervently for God to stay the rain
till Brother Shinn should secure his last load of hay.’”’ The
prayer was heard, and my uncle used often to affirm with tears
in his eyes, as he recalled the scene, that the rain came up even
with the fence that bounded the field where they were at work,
where it poured in torrents, but over which it did not cross until
they had finished gathering the hay, and then, as soon as they
were all sheltered in the house or barn, it came down over all
the farm with tempestuous fury.

He was a man of great fervency of spirit too, which he re-
tained with little or no abatement up to the close of life. The
following incident from the pen of Rev. Anthony Atwood, of
the Philadelphia Conference, occurring but two years before his
death, will strikingly illustrate this statement. The scene took
place at the Session of the New Jersey Conference, held in
Trenton, April, 1839.

Brother Atwood says, ‘‘ Bishop Hedding was in the chair,
and we were receiving the young men. A case came up of a
young man who was said to have a good mind, and some preach-
ing talents, but was reported as slow, and very sluggish in his
manner, and very much lacking in fire and zeal. This, I con-
sider a sad defect in a man so young, and remarked, ‘if he was
so deficient in natural fire now in youth, he would in a few years
be unbearable, as it was common for men to lose much of their
zeal, when age had dried up their youthful activities.’ Bishop
Hedding turned to Father Moore, who sat in the corner at his
left, and said, ‘ Brother Moore, how do you like the doctrine of
Brother Atwood? Do you think a minister is apt to lose his
fire as he grows old? I want to hear your opinion.’ I saw I
was totally annihilated. The church was full in every part, lis-
tening to what was said, and as the man who fell under the
JAMES MOORE. 71

wheel, and saw that to be run over was inevitable, made him-
self as hard as possible, I prepared myself for the storm I
knew was coming. Brother Moore rose up slowly, and began to
speak of his interest in the work of God formerly and now. As
he proceeded he rose to a state of feeling the most sublime and
inspiring that I ever witnessed. He shook with deep emotion.
He usually had a rapid utterance, but now faster than ever,
until the whole house was perfectly convulsed with intense ex-
citement. As usual the shout began amongst the preachers,
then the galleries caught the spirit and followed, until the noise
of shout and praise went up like the sound of many waters.
For a length of time no business could be done. The good
Bishop shook, wept, and praised God with all the others. It
was a wonderful scene, worth traveling many miles, to witness
and enjoy. A feeling that no man could wake up but James
Moore, and he could, and did do it often. The Bishop was
aware of this, and seeing a good opportunity to wake up an un-
usual shout, could not afford to let it pass unimproved. I, of
course, could only say, I thought my position a sound one in
general, but Bishop Hedding and James Moore were exceptions
to the rule, and business resumed its usual course.”

He was attractive in his manner. Mrs. Mary James, who,
knew him when she was a little girl, says, ‘* His life was so holy
that I felt an awe in his presence, and yet so winning, loving,
and beautiful was his conduct, that he drew all, even the hearts
of little children to him.”’

He was a successful minister. Large revivals as have been
seen crowned his labors in many places, and perhaps in none of
his fields was he entirely without fruit.

The following reminiscences of James Moore are from the
gifted pen of Mrs. Anna R. Harlow, wife of Dr. Lewis Harlow,
surgeon in the United States Army, and daughter of James
Rogers, Esq., at whose house in Medford, Burlington County,
N. J., Father Moore died.

‘“¢ My earliest recollections are connected with Father Moore.
My father’s house he always used to call one of his homes. The
children of our household were taught to venerate him. He
ever seemed to us as a dear friend, and a member of our family.
72 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

Whenever he was expected at our house, it was a jubilant time
with us, and the entire family, servants and all, assembled to
greet him. I have sat upon his knee, and listened to the story
of the birth of the Saviour, the tidings of the angel to the
shepherds, and the song of the heavenly host, and felt that no
one could tell it so sweetly as he. He used to talk to us of young
Timothy and Samuel, and urge us to be early good, as they were.
Almost the first question he would ask when he came to see us
was, if we had given our hearts to the Saviour. JI remember well
the last time before I could answer this question affirmatively I
felt such regret that I must meet him, and say, not yet. He
loved children, and conversed freely with them. In family de-
votion it was his custom to mention every member by name, and
pray earnestly for them. His faculty for remembering names
was remarkable. He was never told a name but once, and re-
collected it for years afterward.

‘*Tn asking a blessing he always stood with out-spread hands
and open eyes, observing all before him, and would thank God
with reference to the food prepared—the fish from the sea—the
fowl of the air—the beasts of the field, and the grain from the
storehouse. :

‘*Tn conversation he was animated and interesting—possessed a
rich fund of amusing anecdotes, which made him the life of the
circle. He was never unemployed. He’could not endure sloth
in any form. He used to tell us children never to be indolent;
that such habits would ruin ‘soul and body ;’ that the wicked one
would take possession of us, if he found us unemployed and
lazy.

‘For Satan finds some mischief still
For idle hands to do.’

‘* He was a model of neatness. He could not endure the least
spot or speck of lint on his clothing. He never knelt on the most
delicate carpet, without first spreading down his pocket hand-
kerchief.

‘“He was very punctual, and carried the habit out in everything.
When the bell rang for meals, he started immediately for the
table; no matter how interesting the conversation, he would say
JAMES MOORE. 73

we can finish another time. It won’t do to keep the family wait-
ing, it will tire their patience. If he made an appointment to
preach, or attend a quarterly meeting, no storm, or anything
ever seemed to alter ‘his plan.’ This course he pursued to the
close of his life.

‘* He seldom spoke of his private religious exercises, unless par-
ticularly interrogated. The visit he made us before the last he
was in feeble health, and could not attend church at night. I
sat at home with him, and then drew him out in this respect.
As he was inclined to be communicative, I was greatly profited,
and shall never forget these interviews. He was rich in faith,
and the recital of God’s dealing with him and gracious deliver-
ance in the dark hours of trial and sorrow, were so remarkable
that I was led to stronger trust.

‘*Hather Moore excelled in prayer. I have often thought he
could appropriately embody in his prayers more subjects than
any one I ever heard pray. There was a fervency in his suppli-
cations that every one felt. He was truly a man full of faith,
and of the Holy Ghost. It was his custom on arriving at a place,
after the usual ceremony of meeting the family, to ask if he could
retire to his room, and if any one was near, the occasional
out-breathings of his soul might be heard. At these seasons he
prayed for the family, and so fully was this understood by us
children, that we would say Father Moore is up stairs praying
for us. He used to tell us that ‘daily he remembered every one
of us on his old knees before God,’ and when he died, I mourned
because I had lost an efficient praying friend—and such prayers
as but few uttered forme. His attention to secret prayer was
stated and never failing. Always after meals he retired for private
devotion. If he could remain but a minute, the habit must be
observed. He was an early riser; generally arose at four o’clock
in the morning. When with us, Father Moore could be heard
in his room at an early hour, breaking forth in Scripture ex-
pressions, such as ‘ Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that i
within me bless his holy name.’ ‘This poor man cried, and the
Lord heard him, and saved him out of all his troubles.’ And
occasionally we would hear his voice ascending in hymns of
praise. He ever was found in the spirit of devotion. It was
T4 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

his meat and drink to do the will of God. His wasa beautifully
green old age, and his loving presence refreshed the hearts of all
his friends.”’
The following letter from Father Moore, to his friend James
Rogers, is interesting and valuable, as it shows the current of
_ his thoughts at a very late period of his life.

Near Lone BRANCH, June 30th, 1839.

My very Drar Broturr:—I hope you are all well now, and
still bound for the kingdom. Yesterday I received your long-
looked for favour, dated 13th inst. For the information you give
I thank you, kindly, and pray the great Head of’ all will bless you
a hundred-fold in this life, and in the world to come give you
everlasting life. You mention the good times you have in Med-
ford. Ipray that they may abound yet more and more. Amen,
God grant it. We have here excellent preaching, but not much
life or power. I daily pray and hope there will be a move
amongst them, before long. You wish me to come up to your
last quarterly meeting. I should like to be there, but it will
not be convenient. Our quarterly meeting comes on the 9th
and 10th of March, and other things are in the way.

I was really glad and thankful to hear that mother’s health
was better. Please give my best respects to her; I hope she is
on the mountain top every day, viewing the promised land with
delight and pleasure. I was also much pleased to hear that
William was getting ahead, and I pray that he may be a pattern
to the young men in the Conference; remember me to him if
you write to or see him before I do. Please give my respects to
grandmother. I wonder if her old soul is on the wing. My
love to sister Anna, and thank her for taking notice of poor
old Father Moore. My respects to Benjamin; tell him for
me, he must be a good boy; he has gota good name. Susan
and Rebecca I hope are good children. My respect to Sister
Burdsall. Reading, I hope he is like one of those young
men, that old John mentions, strong in the Lord. Brother
J. Goslin, I wonder if he sees, as his old namesake did, the
dead, small and great, stand before God. Brother G. Idell, I
hope he is not an idle and slothful servant. God bless their
JAMES MOORE. 75

families, and all the members in Medford. The preachers, I
pray God they may be like fire-brands in a dry stubble. Brother
Cramer, I trust he is steadfast in the Lord. Do please give my
respects to everybody you think would be glad to hear I am yet
a Methodist : and I think if I know myself in heart and life I am.
Hallelujah! Jesus reigns.

I have now entered on my seventy-ninth year; praise God, Omy
soul, &c. You talk of making me a new hat. This is unex-
pected, but I pray God to give you a new commission from
heaven, so that all the powers of darkness cannot stand before
you. You know Brother Rogers, God says, ‘‘ One shall chase a
thousand, and two put ten thousand to flight.”’

And now may all the blessings of heaven be with you, and re-
main with you all forever and ever, Amen, &c.

So prays your old friend,
James Moore.

Such were the warm outgushings of his heart, even down to
the close of life. Residing most of the time while a supernu-
merary, upon the shore, he was on his way to Conference from
that place when he died. The following interesting account of
his death is likewise from the pen of Mrs. Harlow.

“He arrived at his ‘old home,’ (as he used to denominate it, )
the residence of his friend, James Rogers, on Tuesday, 19th
of April, 1842, on his way to the New Jersey Conference, which
convened at Camden the ensuing week. With much difficulty
he reached our house, and was supported to his chamber.
Medical aid was procured almost immediately, as we feared he
was dangerously ill, The doctor did not speak despondingly of
his case, but at once expressed the fear he could not recover
sufficiently to attend the Conference, as his disease was bilious
pleurisy, and had already progressed too far to adopt the reme-
dies used in the first stage of the disease. Father Moore re-
ceived the intelligence with gratitude and composure, but did
not abandon the hope of attending Conference until Thursday,
the 28th, when he said, ‘I fear I must relinquish this hope,
and it will be the first Conference I have missed since I joined,
which was forty-eight years ago.’ His strength by this time
76 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

had so far declined as to compel him to take his room. We
often entreated him to lie down through the day, but he stead-
fastly refused while he had strength to sit or walk, saying, ‘I
have not lain down during the day for fifty years, and cannot
think of indulging so indolent a habit until compelled.’ We felt
it a duty to have every thing arranged to make him as cowfort-
able as possible. He would retire frequently into the adjoining
room to pray. I observed him one day to retire nine times, and
engage with so much fervency as to be overheard. Fearing it
would be adisappointment to him not to be able to rise in the
morning as usual, I said, on entering his room, ‘ Although you
are unable to unite with us in the next room to-day, we will do
all we can for you, Father Moore, and hope in a few days you
will be better.’ He replied, ‘My Jesus hath done all things
well: this affliction is for my good.’ During the morning the
doctor called, and after due deliberation, told him his case was
hopeless, but presumed he was prepared for the solemn event ;
and if he had any arrangements to make relative to his business,
&c., he had better attend to it without delay. He looked very
composedly, and only said, ‘I’m much obliged to you, doctor.’
He afterward made his arrangements, and spoke of his depar-
ture with all the composure of one about to take a pleasant
journey. In the course of a few hours his symptoms assumed
a more favorable aspect; he seemed better; on Sunday more
comfortable, and quite happy. When my father entered his
room, he repeated the hymn commencing,

‘Happy soul, thy days are ended,’ &c.,

with a heavenly smile playing about his features. Whenever
we would sympathize with him, or regret his suffering, he would
immediately say, ‘Patience must have its perfect work. Many
are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivereth him
outofthemall. Our light affliction, which is but for a moment,
worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory,’
&c. Often would he call me to him, and repeat the hymn
beginning,
‘0 what are all my sufferings here.’

And once I heard him praying thus: ‘If consistent with thy
JAMES MOORE. TT

will, O Lord, take me to thyself; nevertheless, not my will, but
thine be done.’ Frequently he exclaimed, ‘O blessed Saviour,
give me grace and patience; not only me, but all who attend
me.’ He was averse to giving the least trouble, and manifested
on all occasions perfect resignation: every thing we did for him,
to use his own expression, ‘ was just right; I could not desire it
better.” We frequently conversed with him about death and
heaven, and his confidence never appeared in the least to waver.
My father asked him, a few days prior to his death, if he could
say with Mr. Wesley, ‘The best of all is, God is with us.’ He
replied, ‘O yes,’ and repeated it. To almost every one that
visited him, on parting he would say, ‘Be thou faithful until
death, and I will give thee a crown of life.’

“During the conference the doctor considered him better ; the
disease was subdued, and weakness appeared to be the only ob-
stacle to his recovery. We were cheered for a while, and fondly
hoped and prayed, if in accordance with the divine will, his life
might be protracted. But at the close of the weck our bright
anticipations were blasted. Stupor, with an unpleasant train of
symptoms peculiar to the last stage of the disease, too plainly
convinced us he must die. On the Monday previous to his de-
parture, I said, ‘ Father Moore, you have had a tedious night,
and have suffered much; but I expect you have found the Sa-
viour precious.’ He replied, ‘ Yes, very.’ I added, ‘Soon we
think he will transport you to a brighter and better clime than
this.’ He looked upward, and ejaculated, ‘O blessed, blessed
Saviour!’ ‘But you feel perfectly resigned, do you not? ‘O
yes,’ he exclaimed, with much emphasis, ‘His promises are
sure.’ This was a day of heart-rending suffering ; he had but a
half hour’s intermission from a racking cough, which seemed al-
most to deprive him of life. Late in the evening it subsided,
and all the next day he was on the verge of eternity. When
aroused he would say, ‘Jesus is with me all the time, nigh at
hand to help whenever I call on him.’ On Wednesday he sel-
dom spoke, or observed anything passing around him, unless his
attention was particularly directed to it. When asked a ques-
tion he would simply reply, yes or no; and as the closing scene
drew near he was deprived of speech. About fifteen minutes
before the spirit took its flight, my father said, ‘The conflict is

i
78 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

almost over ; youare going to receive your reward; you will soon
obtain the crown.’ His countenance brightened, and he tried to
say yes. ‘My father, we know you cannot speak to us; butif
you feel that you are passing over Jordan, and the Saviouris with
you, and your way perfectly clear, raise your hand in token of
victory.’ He raised it quickly, and soon after threw up both
hands, and looked upward pleasantly, then closed his eyes for
the last time on earthly scenes just twenty-two minutes after six
o'clock, P. M. With a heavy groan this dear veteran of the
cross yielded up his breath, and plumed his wings for glory, on
the 11th of May, 1842, in the eighty-second year of his age.”

Just as he breathed his last, Brother Rogers’ who was near
his bed, says, ‘‘I heard a sound, soft, sweet, and celestial, that
seemed to fill the room, which after a little passed out of the
window, and I thought it was the angels bearing his spirit to
the skies.’’ Soon after this, Rev. J. F. Crouch, who lived op-
posite, a few hundred yards off, came down to Brother Rogers,
house, and said, ‘‘I hear Father Moore is dead.’’ ‘‘ Yes, he’s
gone,’’ was the reply. ‘‘ What time did he die?’’ asked Brother
Crouch. ‘‘ A little after six o’clock,’’ was the answer. ‘‘It is
very strange,’’ continued Brother Crouch, ‘‘for the last three
days I have been cast down to an extent beyond anything I have
ever experienced, yet this evening, just at the time you mention,
I was going from my house to the barn, and when half way
down the garden, I heard a sound, like the rustling of wings,
accompanied with soft, sweet music, and, at the same time, a
Divine baptism came upon me, so great that I fell prostrate to
the ground. As soon as I recovered I went to the house and
said to my wife, I know Father Moore is gone, for I have just
heard the angels bearing his spirit to the skies.’’

The coincidence was singular, and yet, singular as it may seem,
it was only a verification of a verse of one of our beautiful
hymns :—

“He’s gone! the spotless soul has gone,
Triumphant, to his place above ;
The prison walls are broken down;
The angels speed his swift remove,
And, shouting on their wings he flies,
And gains his rest in Paradise.”
BENJAMIN BENSON. 79

REV. BENJAMIN BENSON.

Amona@ those whose lot fell in the New Jersey Conference
when it was set off from the Philadelphia, was Benjamin
Benson. His labors in the State of New Jersey covered only a
very brief period, and beyond the record of his appointments
and a brief biographical sketch in the General Minutes, it has
been found impossible to collect any facts connected with his
history.

He was born in 1807, and was consequently twenty-three years
of age when he entered the itinerant connection in 1830. His
conversion had taken place three years previously, and two
years before he had been licensed to exhort. Entering the
traveling ministry from the section of country known as the
Peninsula, with the single exception of his last appointment,
his labors were confined to that part of the Conference territory.
Smyrna, Kent, Salisbury, and Accomac circuits and Elkton sta-
tion were the charges to which he was sent. In the spring of
1835, being somewhat enfeebled, he took a supernumerary rela-
tion to the Conference. At its next session, with health slightly
improved, he was appointed to Plainfield, New Jersey. The
expectation that he would be able to perform effective work,
however, proved delusive, and indications of a pulmonary dis-
ease soon became so marked, that he was compelled to leave his
post and make a visit South. No good result following, he re-
tarned to die among his relatives in Cambridge, Maryland.

His afflictions were protracted and painful, but were endured
with patience and resignation. His soul arose ‘superior to his
sufferings, and while death, with slow but unwavering step,
carried on the dissolution of his earthly tenement, he rejoiced in
the prospect of eternal life. His death, which occurred in Oc-
tober, 1840, was eminently peaceful.
80 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

“ Such was the Christian’s parting hour ;
So peacefully he sank to rest;
While faith, endued from heaven with power,
Sustained and cheered his languid breast.”

Mr. Benson is said to-have been possessed of fair preaching
abilities, a good voice, pleasant address and manners, and to
have attained considerable mental culture and familiarity with
books. But the insidious and enervating disease, of which he
died, early marked him for its victim. He was thus prevented
from developing his powers to the extent that would otherwise
have been the case, or of reaching his full stature as a man or a
minister. Still he was highly esteemed where known, accom-
plished some work for the Master, and then, after illustrating
the power of religion, to give patience and fortitude through a
wasting and painful illness, he passed to share the rewards of the
redeemed in heaven.
JOHN BUCKLEY. 81

REV. JOHN BUCKLEY.

Joun Buck ey, the subject of the following memoir, was
born in the village of Sholver, Lancashire, England, May 3d,
1805. At the age of seven or eight years his mother died, leav-
ing him and a younger brother to a father, pressed with the
cares of business, and struggling under embarrassments. About
four years subsequently, the father, also, was taken from them,
and they were left to the care of a step-mother. John was,
however, soon, afterward received into the family of a maternal
uncle, Mr. James Wilde, who, with his excellent wife, although
having a large family of small children of their own to care for,
faithfully acted the part of father and mother to the orphan
boy. Here he was introduced into the Sabbath-school connected
with the Wesleyan Methodists, which gave him an opportunity
of listening to the gospel in its primitive simplicity and purity,
and there is no doubt that here was laid the foundation of his
religious character. He was ever remarkable for the earnest-
ness with which he entered upon the accomplishment of any ob-
ject, which may be illustrated by the fact, that while connected
with the Sabbath-school, a small reward having been offered to
the boy who would first learn and repeat correctly the Epistle of
James, he applied himself to the task, and obtained the promised
prize.

When nineteen or twenty years of age he broke through the
restraints which had hitherto been placed upon him, so far as to
become exceedingly fond of dancing, attending parties, and
kindred amusements ; although, to those who knew him only in
after years, when Divine grace had changed his heart and life,
it seemed difficult to realize that pursuits, so vain and frivolous,
would have had any charms for him. Returning home, on one

oceasion, ata late hour of the night, from one of these scenes
6
82 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

of festivity, he contracted a cold which resulted in a severe fit
of sickness, and that brought him apparently near the grave.
It pleased Providence, however, to restore him to health, but
never again was he found in those places of folly and dissipation.

Soon after coming of age he accompanied his uncle’s family
to this country, and with them settled in Bloomfield, N. J: Be-
fore leaving England, and while on the voyage, he resolved that
when he arrived in America he would devote himself to the
service of the Lord, but not until about a year after he landed
did he put his good resolution into practice. Then, which was
in the spring of 1828, he connected himself as a seeker of reli-
gion, with the M. E. Church, of which the Rev. Isaac Winner
was at that time pastor. It soon became evident that in this,
as in other matters, he carried his peculiar earnestness with him.
He was faithful and punctual in the discharge of his private duties,
sometimes becoming so much engaged in his devotions as to cry
aloud, and was frequently listened to by those in an adjoining
room. He possessed an extremely tender conscience, and if in
any case it could be appropriately said, it might of him, that he
was ‘‘ righteous over much,’’ even before his conversion. Soon
after his convictions had ripened into a resolute determination
to seek the Lord, and while earnestly engaged in the discharge
of every religious duty, even to praying in public, he suddenly
left his work, on one occasion, went to his uncle, and informed
him that he wished to be absent that afternoon. His uncle
said, ‘‘ Where are you going, John?” He replied, ‘‘ To Bell-
ville, (a village about three miles distant,) to converse with the
Rey. Mr. Lee about this soul of mine. J am not fully satisfied.
I must save my soul.”

He was not long left in doubt, but soon after received such a
baptism of the Holy Spirit as enabled him to go on his way re-
joicing. He immediately commenced exhorting his friends and
relatives to turn to God, and rested not until most of his cousins
and his only brother, were walking with him in the way to
heaven. :

It was soon evident that the Lord had a work for him to do,
and in order to qualify himself more fully he made his arrange-
ments to spend a year at the Wesleyan Academy, Wilbraham,
JOHN BUCKLEY. 83

Mass., over which, that eminent man of God, Rev. Dr. Fisk,
then presided. He entered upon his studies with that ardor
and determination which characterized all his undertakings; but,
probably neglecting to take the exercise that was necessary, more
especially as he had been accustomed to an active life, he was
soon attacked with dyspepsia, which increased to such a degree
that at the end of five months he was obliged to relinquish his
studies and return to his uncle’s in Bloomfield, and from the
effects of which he never entirely recovered. Soon after his re-
turn he was licensed to preach, and the following spring was re-
ceived into the Philadelphia Conference, and sent with the Rev.
R. W. Petherbridge to what was then called Trenton Circuit,
although Trenton was not at that time included within its
limits.

The following year he was appointed to Essex Circuit, in both
of which places his labors were owned and blessed of the Lord.

In the spring of 1838 he was sent to Mount Holly, then, for
the first time made a station, where he labored for two years
with great acceptability and usefulness, In reference to his
labors in that place the Rev. G. A. Raybold says, in his
‘‘Methodism in West Jersey,’’ ‘‘The year 1833 was an era in
the history of Methodism in Mount Holly. The Church resolved
to become a station, and the Rev. John Buckley was appointed
pastor. The eminent abilities of that brother as a preacher, his
solid piety, and strict practical Methodism, had the blessed effect
of giving a powerful impulse to Methodism, and it then obtained
a character, extension, and influence, hitherto unknown in
Mount Holly.”

In the spring of 1835 he married a daughter of Clayton
Monroe, Esq., of Mount Holly, and was sent to Dover, Del.,
also, at that time first made a station. Here, likewise, he was
made eminently useful in building up the Church. At the end
of that year the Philadelphia Conference was divided and the
New Jersey Conference formed. Preferring to be in the latter,
he was removed from Dover and was stationed in Rahway, N. J.,
where his labors were blessed to the conversion of souls.

From Rahway he was sent to Burlington, N. J., and here, at
the close of his first year, ended his active labors in the itiner-
84 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

ancy. He had suffered more or less with dyspepsia, during all
the period of his ministerial service ; but this year his throat be-
came very much affected, and, with the advice of his physician,
he concluded to desist from preaching for a year, hoping by rest
and relaxation, to be able, at the end of that time, to resume his
labors. About this timé, he met with a severe afiliction, in the
loss of his brother, to whom he was ardently attached, and who
was also a member of the New Jersey Conference, and a young
man of great promise. This mysterious dispensation of Provi-
dence, greatly depressed his spirits, and doubtless aggravated
his disease. At the Conference of 1838, he obtained a supernu-
merary relation, and retired to Mount Holly, where he spent the
year in such exercises, as were thought to be most conducive to
his restoration to health. At the end of the year, however,
he found himself still unable to render effective service, and as a
further means of promoting his recovery, took a small farm in
the vicinity of Mount Holly, the cultivation of which, afforded
him abundance of out-door exercise, and proved to be very beneficial
to his general health : so that, during the winter, he had strong
hopes of being able, at the ensuing Conference, to enter again
the regular work. But having preached a few times, toward the
close of the winter, his throat was so seriously affected thereby,
that he was obliged to relinquish the idea: and the painful con-
viction was forced upon his mind, that he was no more to be
employed in that work in which his soul greatly delighted.
Having previously made arrangements to leave the farm, he
moved into the town, and soon after, an opportunity being af-
forded for engaging in business in Bridgeton, N. J., he availed
himself of it, and removed to that place. While there he had
the confidence and esteem of all who knew him. His pulpit
labors, (in which he occasionally engaged, ) and his private inter-
views were highly appreciated by the people.

His health continued with but little variation, for about a year
and a half after his removal to Bridgeton, when his strength
began visibly to decline. But so gradual was the decay, and at-
tended by so few of the more distressing symptoms of the disease,
that it was long before he realized that he was about to be re-
moved from earth: indeed, until within two weeks of his death,
JOHN BUCKLEY. 85

he vherished hopes of recovery. But when he became fully con-
vinced, that his sickness was unto death, perfect resignation
possessed his soul, and the consolations of grace abounded. He
conversed respecting his approaching dissolution, with the com-
posure of one preparing for a journey., Death, to him, had no
terror. He summoned one of the brethren, gave him explicit
directions, respecting all his affairs, and then calmly awaited his
change.

He was but three days confined to his bed, when the messen-
ger came, and gently removed him to his home above, on the
28th of June, 1842, aged thirty-seven years.

Asa Christian, his piety was deep and uniform. He always
carried with him an atmosphere of purity and holiness. He was
grave and serious in his manners, yet never gloomy or morose:
indeed, in the entire consistency of his Christian and ministerial
character, he had few equals. His talents as a preacher were
of a superior order. His sermons were well studied, methodi-
cally arranged, and practical, searching expositions of gospel
truth, which found their way to many hearts. It could be truly
said of him, he studied to ‘‘ Show himself approved unto God,
a workman that needed not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the
word of truth.”

In regard to pastoral duties, he was a model, well worthy the
imitation of his successors in the ministry. Asa result of his
faithfulness in this respect, many were led to embrace the truth,
who will be stars in his crown of rejoicing.
86 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

a

REV. WILLIAM BAKER

Was born in Washington, Litchfield Co., Conn., October 9,
1801. Of his early life but little is known. He says, ‘‘I had
frequent operations of the Spirit, from my childhood. Yet I be-
came more and more wicked, till the age of eleven, when it
pleased the Lord to bring me to a bed of affliction.”’ Believing
he was about to die, and feeling unprepared, he solemnly vowed
to seek religion, if God would spare his life. But, like nearly all
who make such promises, he failed to keep it. He says, ‘‘ My
seriousness wore off, and I became more wicked and profane
than ever, till I had scarcely any of the fear of God before my
eyes.”’ At the age of sixteen he went to Northampton, to learn
the ‘‘ Clothiers’ Trade.’’ About a year after this, he was again
brought near to death, and was terribly alarmed. His broken
vow haunted him like a spectre, till he feared to go to sleep, lest
his waking should be ineternity. He exclaims, ‘‘ Oh, the awful
consequence of putting off repentance till a death-bed!’’ But
alas, with the sight of danger, concern disappeared, and he be-
came as careless as ever.

After recovering, he entered the Fulling Mill of his brother,
near Englishtown, Monmouth Co., N. J. Here he attended
the ‘‘ Old Tennent Church,” and soon became concerned for his
soul. He says, ‘‘I felt J must lead a new life or be lost.’’ He
often thought he would open his mind to the minister and others,
but was prevented by diffidence. The flame thus shut up in his
heart, soon became a consuming fire. ‘‘ Pilgrims’ Progress’’
afforded him some help, but did not lead him to the Saviour.
He often waited at the church door, hoping that the minister
would inquire about his soul, but was disappointed. At length
the preacher ‘‘ told me all my experience,’’ he says, in a sermon
from, ‘‘ Come unto me, &c.’’ He began secret prayer and to
WILLIAM BAKER. 87

seek light from good books, still, he says, ‘‘I became darker
and harder, till it seemed I would die. I groaned in spirit and
cried to the Lord, till one night the burden was removed, and I
felt a change wrought in my soul.’’ Yet this proved to be only
a partial deliverance. He says, ‘‘ Evil habits had become a
second nature, so that to do evil was as natural as to breathe.
I had hard fighting; however, I continued to struggle on.”
He did not join the church, but gratefully acknowledges his
indebtedness to the Presbyterians. He spent the summer of
1823 in Connecticut, where he attended Methodist meetings for
the first time.

He then entered the Fulling Mill of Andrew Winter, near
High Point, Monmouth Co., N. J. This placed him out of
reach of any Presbyterian meeting. For some time he did not
attend any place of worship. He learned that meetings were
held in a school-house near by, but felt reluctant to begin to at-
tend. His mind was not at rest. At length he dreamed that
he heard them singing and praying while he was break-
ing the Sabbath. His feelings became much agitated. Bro-
ther Samuel Bowne invited him to attend the meetings. He
gladly went, and also stayed in class. He found that he did not
enjoy religion, but soon sought it, joined the church, and took a
decided stand for God and Methodism. Referring to this invi-
tation, he says, ‘‘I went, and, glory to God, I cast in my lot
among the Methodists, under Rev. John Walker. Memorable
day! Ishall never be sorry.’’ For about one year fair winds
and smooth waters attended him, then his bark was tossed and
driven. He ‘‘reasoned with the devil,”’ till driven to the verge
of despair. He says, ‘‘ None but the Lord and my own soul
knew what I passed through for about eight months.”’

In the fall of 1825, he was married to Ann, the eldest daugh-
ter of his employer. She was a class-leader, which position she
held for several years acceptably and usefully. She was his only
leader till her death, which occurred some three and a half years
after their marriage. She finished her course with great joy.
One of their two children died in infancy, while the other, an
industrious, upright man, is still living.

’ At first Mr. Winter insisted upon their business engagement
88 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

covering a term of years. But when Mr. Baker became a
Methodist, Mr. Winter was as anxious to get rid of him as he
had been to bind him fast. Finally Mr. Baker bought the stock
and took the business upon himself. Not long after this his
mind was drawn to the subject of preaching, which he soon felt
to be his duty. He became greatly perplexed, but concluded to
pursue his business in order to pay his debts, and at the same
time preach in a local capacity. But God ordered otherwise.
His wife died after an illness of only ten days. Business became
so dull that he could not meet his liabilities. His father-in-law
took the property back, and he gave up all to his creditors, in-
cluding a dwelling-house on which he had paid $800. Thus in
about one year he was left with only one child and a good con-
science.

His way into the ministry was not a smooth one. He had at-
tended school but little. His stores of information were very
limited. His mind was not much disciplined. He did not pos-
sess ready gifts, and was extremely difident. Hence the idea
of his being called to preach seemed preposterous. For a long
time he strove to reconcile his mind to another course of life. In
this he failed. In spite of himself his reveries and his dreams were
full of sermons. The struggle became so intense that he ex-
claimed, ‘‘ I never in this world expect to be able to describe the
anguish of my mind.’’ But when he fully felt, ‘‘ Woe is me if
I preach not the gospel!’’ he gladly responded, ‘‘ Here am I;
send me.’”’ At the funeral of his wife he opened his mind
to Rev. R. W. Petherbridge, who gave him license to exhort.
This was in the spring of 1829. The next February he applied
for license to preach. The Conference adjourned while his case
was pending. This was a sore trial, but at the next session the
vote was unanimous, and Rev. C. Pitman, Presiding Elder, at
once sent him on a circuit.

In 1831 he was received on trial by the Philadelphia Confer-
ence, and sent to Haverstraw with Rev. J. H. Dandy. A friend
lent him money with which to buy a horse, and he went on his
way rejoicing. In the early part of this year he dreamed that
as his feet were set on a large rock, it became innumerable
pieces. He took this as an omen that God by his ministry would
WILLIAM BAKER. 89

break hard and flinty hearts. There were several conversions,
but no general revival this year. A singular incident occurred,
March 12, 1832. He was preaching from the text, ‘If the
righteous scarcely be saved,’ &c., at the house of Benjamin
Geroe, near New Prospect. As he was opening the subject, the
house was struck by lightning. He stood by the chimney down
which the fluid passed. All seems to have been stunned, but
none seriously injured. Mrs. Geroe and child were prostrated
for a little while. Mr. Baker stood so close to the wall that the
fluid did not produce a serious shock. Yet it tore off the soles of
his shoes. The lights were put out, and he was so bewildered,
that he rushed out of the house, sprang over a high fence, rana
quarter of a mile to the nearest neighbors, through a dashing
rain, and gave notice that all were dead but himself. He re-
turned, and, to his'surprise and joy, found all alive. God havy-
ing spoken, the sermon was omitted, and a prayer-meeting held.
It was a solemn, searching time, in which some began to pray .
who had never prayed before. The house was much injured,
but not set on fire. A singular phenomenon was found in the
cellar. Under the fire-place was a ceiled arch, with stone floor
and a tight plank door. Here were some eggs, and the under-
side of each was found to be perforated with innumerable holes,
as if made with a fine cambric needle

He was returned to the same circuit the next year with Rev.
J. V. Potts. The rock seems now to have fully gone to pieces.
A revival began in the early part of the year, and many were
converted under the ordinary means. They were also largely
successful in their extra meetings. After the above-named oc-
currence we would expect to find him timid when he heard God’s
voice in the thunder. He describes a terrific storm that occurred
August 7th, and which awed him into the deepest reverence and
devotion. He also gives another instance. Having preached
on the evening of September 9th, he had to go five miles to find
lodging. Flashes of lightning afforded the only means of seeing
a narrow road on the mountain-side, with a swollen stream at its
base. He says, ‘‘I viewed myself as standing on the verge of
eternity. Only the Lord and myself knew how I felt. O how
good religion is at suchatime!’’ As it began to rain he reached
90 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

a house, but the inmates were so frightened that they did not
admit him, and he took shelter in the cellar. Then, after wait-
ing an hour and a half, and capturing his horse, which had
broken loose, he proceeded, but did not reach his destination
till after midnight. Oh! how his soul exulted in the mercy of
God When he found himself safe and comfortable. A church
was built during the year, at a place called ‘‘Thiets.’’ The
mis-called Reformers tried hard to defeat the effort, especially
by the slang about the bishops being able to sell the property.
The house was completed, however, and also one at Rockland.
He usually preached two or three times on Sunday, and five
times through the week, three weeks out of four. February 12,
1833, he says, ‘‘ This is my rest week, and I feel the need of
rest after so much labor. A good deal of the time Iam as much
fatigued as if I had been mowing.’’ At times he was depressed
and low-spirited. But light mingled with the shade. He saw
the work prospering in his hands, and had seasons of rejoicing
and holy triumph.

In 1833 he was admitted to orders, and sent to Milford, with
Rev. V. Shepherd as a colleague. His wonder and admiration
were excited by the rugged scenery of the country, and his
warmest sympathies awakened for the lumbermen, on account
of heavy losses sustained by a ‘‘freshet’’ in the Delaware. He
took a deep interest in this plain, friendly people, and was. the
means of doing them much good. A quarterly meeting and a
camp-meeting are described as scenes of unusual displays of Di-
vine mercy. On Sunday, after the close of the encampment,
seekers crowded the altar, while the most hardened sat in mute
silence. Sixteen professed conversion during the service, and
other good fruit was gathered afterward.

In the spring of 1834, he was greatly cheered and refreshed
by a visit to Monmouth County. Since he left, the society at
High Point had increased from thirty-five to one hundred and
twenty-five. Business calling him to Connecticut, he spent a
Sunday in New York, and on his return, one in Haverstraw.
This was the day their new church was dedicated, on which oc-
casion he preached twice. Both these Sundays were times of
unusual ‘“‘ refreshing from the presence of the Lord.’’ He spent:
WILLIAM BAKER. 91

another year at Milford, but gives no account of special success,
except at a camp-meeting, of which he speaks in glowing
terms.

For several years he had been a widower, and as an itinerant,
alone wanderer. Yet he was so timid, retiring, and despond-
ing, that few could be found who so much needed a suitable
companion. This he found in the person of Elizabeth Carhart
of Bethany, near Keyport, N. J., to whom he was married
September 20, 1834. She was a deeply-experienced Christian,
and possessed gifts of a superior order. She often closed the
public services, sometimes delivering powerful exhortations.
She had few equals in prayer, either as to solemnity of manner,
propriety of language, or attending divine unction. Both her
public and prive labors were much blessed in the promotion of
the work of the Lord. Then, after sustaining his active toils,
she soothed his dying hours, and for a number of years acted
the part of a faithful mother to his son, till she rejoined him in
heaven.

The private memoranda from which we have drawn was not
continued after his second marriage. Still our materials are
fully equal to the allotted space. He received elders’ orders in
1°35. In 1835 and 1836, he was at New Prospect; 1837 and
1838, at Rome; 1839, at Sandyston and Port Jervis; 1840, at
Sandyston; 1841, at Hope. These were years of unceasing toil,
severe trials and varying successes. His health was precarious,
and had to be watched with great care. He got wet by fording
a stream while on his way to Hope, and took a severe cold,
from which he never recovered. His debility so increased that
he was forced to quit the field in August. After resting till the
last Sunday in September, he consented to preach and adminis-
ter the communion at a distant appointment. He did not re-
turn till Tuesday, and that night was prostrated by hemorrhage
from the lungs. The bleeding was stopped, but the next night
it returned, and in less than an hour had done its fatal work.
He could say but little, yet ‘‘ the few words he was able to utter,
were expressive of the high confidence he reposed in the merits
of Christ his Redeemer.’’ He closed the career of his toils and
sufferings at his home in Hope, Warren County, N. J., Sept.
2 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

30, 1841, in the fortieth year of his age and the eleventh of his
ministry.

Wm. Baker was a man of great simplicity and integrity of
character. He traveled the roughest portions of the State,
endured many exposures and hardships, and received an unusu-
ally small support. Yet he left no recorded complaint. The
nearest approach to one refers to Sandyston. ‘‘This was a
trying year. The circuit was laborious, religion low, Methodism
weak, my support insufficient, receiving but little more than
half my allowance. But I would not complain, though I was
very glad to leave, for we lived among a heathenish people.”
An amusing incident will illustrate his ingenuousness. In his
early Christian life he imbibed the notion that certain frames
of feeling were the standard of religious excellence. In order to
secure the desired revery he would become so absorbed as to
forget the proprieties of time and place. On one occasion the
presiding eldet publicly desired him not to draw his face so
horribly. At the close of the service, he extended his hand to
the elder, saying, ‘‘If J am wrong I want to be set right.”
Complaint was once made to his elder that he was unsociable.
When spoken to on the subject, he frankly regretted his diff-
dence and lack of conversational gifts. But said that he disliked
to converse on trivial subjects, and that he thought it best to
talk only when he had something to say, hinting that this rule
did not fully apply to those who had made the complaint.

He took a serious view of life,,and was deeply grieved by the
misdoings of others, and especially of professing Christians.
But his complaints were uttered only to God in his secret
prayers. Sometimes he gave way to despondent feelings till he
walked near the verge of despair. Then he would gain the
mountain heights and exult in holy triumph. He also learned
the art of trusting where he could not trace, and of so clinging to
Christ as to prove a conqueror in every struggle. Thus he be-
came an eminently holy man. ‘‘ His piety,’’ says the Confer-
ence Obituary, ‘‘was of the highest order. For many years he
lived in the enjoyment of perfect love, and his daily walk testi-
fied that his profession of such enjoyment was not vain. No
one ever saw him light or trifling, or indulging in any disposi-
tions or tempers inconsistent with the Christian character.”
WILLIAM BAKER. 93

The same authority says, ‘‘ He was a minister of good preach-
ing abilities, possessing the power of exhibiting with great force
and perspicuity, the essential doctrines of the gospel.’’ He
generally selected plain texts that directly embodied the vital
truths of his mission. His usual habit was to ask and answer
questions, which answers were mainly drawn from the Bible,
and his own observation and experience. He was plain, pointed
and searching, so that all saw that a devout, earnest man stood
before them, who felt it to be a privilege as well as a duty, to
preach Christ and seek the salvation of souls. He thus faith-
fully executed the trust committed to him, and then passed away
to enjoy in its fullness that salvation which he so earnestly com-
mended to others.
94 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

REY. JOSEPH BURN M‘KEEVER.

TWENTY-ONE years the subject of this sketch has been in
glory. A brief, earnest ministry of but five years wore out the
frail tabernacle, and introduced the spirit to higher and holier
scenes. It is well to preserve some memorial of departed saints
for the good of the living, and as a record of what the grace of
God can do for sinful man.

Joseph B. M‘Keever was the youngest son of Captain John
M‘Keever of Philadelphia, and was born December Ist, 1811.
He was a boy of bright talents and warm affections, peculiarly
generous and unsuspicious in his nature. Having lost his mother
at an early age he was educated in the family of his maternal
grandparents.

His grandfather was a man of one set of ideas, and thought
nothing so desirable as mercantile pursuits; therefore, without
regarding the peculiar character of the boy’s mind, he was
placed at an early age in a counting-house.

While quite a youth he manifested a desire to study for some
profession, and the business of a counting-house became utterly
distasteful. But these aspirations were treated as romantic
folly, and he was obliged to drudge on. When about eighteen
years of age he became a member of a club, the chief aim of which
was improvement in elocution. Here, under the influence of
a company of thoughtless young men, he was led to believe he
possessed peculiar talents for the stage. His family were not at
all aware how far he had progressed in preparation for the final
step, when, suddenly, it burst upon them. He was at that time
a handsome youth, with a graceful form, fine voice, and consid-
erable talent for public speaking. Discouraged by relatives in
preparing for a useful and respectable profession, he had chosen
his own, and imagined a field of glory opening before him. I
JOSEPH B. M‘KEEVER. 95

can never forget the day when, filled with grief, I tried to dis-
suade him from the step which he was about to take. I can see
him now, as he stood before me, with glowing cheek, trembling
lip, and flashing eye, with an extended arm, expressing determi-
nation in every gesture, as he said, ‘‘ Sister, I seek for fame.”’
I remonstrated, but in vain.

Though he was tenderly attached to his only sister she had
not power then to change his determination. He had made an
engagement with the proprietor of one of the Philadelphia
theatres, to appear on acertain night in the character of Sir
Edward Mortimer, in the ‘‘ Iron Chest.’’ Placards were placed
at the corners of the streets, announcing the appearance of a
new debutante. His father in anger tore down the notices, and
as he was still a minor, threatened the proprietor with prose-
cution.

His appearance upon the Philadelphia boards was, therefore,
at that time prevented; but in the heat and impetuosity of
youth, he packed up his clothes in a silk handkerchief, and
started on foot for Lancaster, where he joined a company of
strolling actors. His family had all discarded him, excepting
his grandparents and sister. On parting with the latter, she
bade him remember that she should never forsake him, and
should still pray and hope for his return from folly. Fortunately,
he fell in with a set of dishonorable men, who cheated him out
of his earnings. He had dreamed of a company of high-
minded, generous adventurers, and this experience was valuable
to him.

During all the time of his estrangement, he regularly corres-
ponded with his sister, and still clung to her with all the warmth
of his nature.

When he returned to Philadelphia, he again made application
to the city managers, and meeting with no more opposition from
his father, who had given up all interference in his affairs, he
made his appearance in his native city. He was warmly ap-
plauded, and.the press predicted success for the young aspirant.

But before the evening of his first appearance, he sought his
sister. This interview was affectionate, but brief. He seemed
sad and tearful. Her last charge was, ‘‘ Brother, you will ap-
96 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

pear on Friday night, remember, I shall then be at the lecture,
thinking of, and praying for, you.”’ Tears filled his eyes at this
appeal, and in after-years, he said that the words rang in his
ears all the evening. But he was not destined for an actor. A
number of friends who deplored the perversion of his talents,
and who saw the path of ruin before him, went in company on
another appearance, and hissed him from the stage. This mor-
tified his pride—it was his last appearance. Soon after this
disappointment he brought all his play books to his grandfather,
requesting him to burn them.

The situation of the young man was still very critical; without
employment, despondent, and surrounded by bad advisers and
worldly companions, he could not recover lost respectability in
his own home, and felt that he must leave it for a while.

Then an Episcopal gentleman who was interested in him, of-
fered him a clerkship in his factory, near Rockdale; and thither
he went. An important step was now taken—cut loose from all
his former associates, in the retirement of the country, he had
leisure for thought.

At this time he was in constant correspondence with his sister,
and it was manifest that deep and serious convictions were
pressing upon his spirit. The same kind Christian friend in-
vited him to his family-circle, which was one of refinement and
piety; and, at last, he took a class in the Sunday-school, and
became interested in the work. A good Providence was now
leading him, day by day, by a way which he knew not.

Many months passed by, and returning to Philadelphia, he
obtained a situation in the Southwark Bank.

For some months, in company with his sister, he attended
upon the ministry of the Rev. Dr. Bedell of St. Andrew’s
Church. It was his desire, at that time, to connect himself with
that communion; but Dr. Bedell, who knew of his former life,
advised him to test his conversion thoroughly ere he came out
openly as a follower of the Redeemer. About this time the
Rev. Mr. Maffit visited Philadelphia, and became deeply inter-
ested in the young man. Under his influence his religious con-
victions were deepened, his hope made sure, and his course for
time and eternity decided. He became a member of the
JOSEPH B. M‘KEEVER. 97

Methodist Episcopal Church, and from that time adorned his
Christian profession. Soon after this event, he was united in
marriage with Miss Pauline Morgan, of Philadelphia, who
proved to be a most faithful and devoted wife. .

The desire now to devote his talents to the cause of his Master
became very ardent; and, after due deliberation and prayer, he
came to the conclusion of resigning a lucrative situation, for the
purpose of preaching the everlasting gospel. His first appoint-
ment was to Haddonfield Circuit, in 1838, with Rev. J. Long,
where he preached and labored successfully for one year. His
second, in 1839, was on Salem Circuit, where also he was a
faithful laborer for his Master, and the Churches grew under his
ministry.

In both of these places he bore his cross meekly, and, though
sometimes sorely tried, he submitted with a sweet spirit of
Christian forbearance to all that befel him in the way of priva-
tion, misconception, and hard labor in the vineyard of the Lord.
From Salem Circuit he was removed to Bloomfield, where his
lot was cast in more pleasant places, and he was universally re-
spected and beloved by all classes and denominations.

His last charge was at Halsey St., Newark, where he made
rapid growth both asa Christian and a minister: he had there
a large congregation and useful membership, where he enjoyed
the confidence and love of his own people, and the community
in general. His labors here were much blessed, and his friends
looked forward to a constantly increasing usefulness in the ser-
vice of his beloved Master.

Here he was abundant in labors, not sparing himself on any
occasion, but was always ready to do the work of a minister;
preaching, exhorting, laboring, visiting, in season, and out of
season, so that he might win souls to Christ, and finish the work
given him to do.

In all these labors, he was encouraged and sustained by the
partner whom God had given him, and who, as the wife of a
Methodist minister, cheerfully bore her part in the labors and
privations of the itinerancy.

He was distinguished for clearness, earnestness, and unction
in proclaiming the message of his Lord. The graceful elocution

ic
98 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

and eloquent oratory once employed in the service of the evil
one, was in his case most beautifully transferred to the ministry
of the blessed Christ. As he preached, love beamed from his
expressive eye, glowed upon his cheek, and breathed in every
gesture of his impressive manner.

The following sketch of his labors at Halsey St., Newark, is
from Rev. A. E. Ballard.

‘The accomplished and talented William Roberts had been
removed from Halsey St. in the plenitude of a popularity,
probably never surpassed by any pastor of that time-honored
sanctuary, and it became a matter of serious inquiry by the
authorities of the church, who should succeed him. Brother
M'‘Keever had been but one year at Bloomfield, which charge
was growing rapidly under his ministry, but to their great dis-
satisfaction he was taken from them to meet the peculiar circum-
stances of Halsey St. At first it was supposed no one could
supply the place of Roberts, but a very slight acquaintance with
the public exercises and personal character of M‘Keever soon
dispelled that idea. His popularity was of a solid and influential
character, holding the congregation and impressing them for
good. His health was feeble when he came, which was, while
the church was rent with Millerism, and the anxieties attendant
upon the distraction occasioned in the church, by its dissemination,
contributed, as he himself assured me, to break down his strength
and speed him to his grave. He preached up to the last of his
physical strength, never intermitting it until he had become too
feeble to go out for the performance of even a marriage ceremony.
My last interview with him was at the time when he found him-
self unable to attend to this service. He was seriously alarmed
for his health, but still thought rest would recuperate him, and
he would soon be well. Probably had he rested earlier, he
might have been spared, but Halsey St. is not an easy place to
rest in.

Tn person, he was slight, but beautifully symmetrical. His voice
was harsh, but with a sweet and tender undertone, which made it
charming. His sermons were always short, clear, and to the point
—delivered with great deliberation, and yet with impassioned
energy. He was, perhaps, the only man I ever knew, who could
JOSEPH B. M‘KEEVER. 99

combine the two. The great theme of his preaching was,
faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. I heard him once in his startling,
guttural tones, say to a lady, who had been long a seeker of re-
ligion, ‘‘ Woman, I command you to believe now in the Lord
Jesus Christ for salvation.”” The desponding penitent made the
attempt, and immediately was saved.

In deportment he was always a gentleman, dignified and
serene—never participating in the jests which might be passing
round him, but always seemed to feel that he must be serious
and solemn.”’

Mrs. Isabella Avison says, ‘‘ He wasa man possessed of every
virtue which adorns human nature. As a minister, he had
superior talents, and was deeply pious.

‘The last time he met us, was in the lecture room of the old
church, and I shall never forget it. The night was stormy, and
but few were present. But ashe addressed us for a few moments,
his countenance was illuminated with a holy joy. It was a
precious season.’’ But this glowing ministry was short. Inthe
fifth year, these constant and wearying labors began to tell upon
his frame. He took a severe cold; continued preaching at a
protracted meeting, while suffering severely; went to Phila-
delphia, on business in winter, increased his cold, and returned
home very sick. His decline was rapid. A pulmonary disease
settled upon his lungs, and it was very soon manifest that he
could not continue long on earth. I was sent for, and was
shocked to see the inroads which consumption had made. I
knew that the sentence had gone forth, and, painful as was the
task, it was mine to inform him of his approaching end. He
received the intelligence calmly, but with much suppressed feel-
ing. At first large tears stole over his pallid features, at the
thought of a ministry so soon concluded, and a wife and young
family to be left upon the cold world. Soon however his spirit
rallied, and perfect submission to the will of his Lord henceforth
marked the temper of his mind. Duty calcd me elsewhere, and
I saw my brother no more. :

Mrs. Avison says, ‘‘I spent four weeks with him in his
sick room. It was a privilege to wait upon him. He was
perfectly patient and happy, anxious if it was the Divine will,
100 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMRIAL.

to live, but,said he, ‘‘I am in my Father’s hands, as clay in
the hands of the potter.’’ He requested me to read a portion
of God’s word to him daily, and he enjoyed it very much.
Once when I handed him a drink of water, he said, ‘‘I shall
soon drink in my Father’s kingdom, and I shall go out no
more.’’ His last words were, ‘‘ Jesus is precious.’’ Soon
after, on the 27th of April, 1843, in the thirty-second year of
his age, he gently breathed his last.”’

The New Jersey Conference, of which he was a member, being
at the time of his death in its annual session, appointed one of
its number, Rev. Isaac Winner, to conduct the funeral services.
These services were held in the church, where so often he had
preached the word of life. Mr. Winner delivered a sermon of
great feeling and power to a weeping congregation, from, ‘‘ He
was a good man, full of faith and the Holy Ghost.’’ The re-
mains were taken to Philadelphia for interment. When the
cars arrived at New Brunswick, where the Conference was sit-
ting, the members, in token of their high esteem, assembled at
the depot, where they stood, with heads uncovered in solemn
files on either side of the rail-road, while the train was passing.
A funeral service was likewise held in Trinity M. E. Church,
Philadelphia, where Rev. E. §. Janes delivered an appro-
priately solemn address, and several ministers assisted in the
service.

The precious dust now sleeps at Laurel Hill, where he has
since been followed by his wife and three daughters, called in
the bloom of yeuth. But one son remains to represent the
family.

Life is not to be measured by the years appointed, but by the
work accomplished. If, therefore, in the short and glowing
ministry of five years, our dear brother led many to Jesus, how
long does that life appear, when compared to three-score years
and ten, all spent in the service of the world? His life, short
though it was on earth, stretches forward into eternity, where,
in a state of bliss unspeakable, it is ever growing in love.
Twenty one years in glory, who can tell what exalted service he
has rendered there?
WILLIAM LUMMIS. 101

REV. WILLIAM LUMMIS

Was born in Lower Penn’s Neck, Salem County, N. J.,
May 4, 1776. He was early inured to the trials and hardships
of orphanage, his mother having died when he was an infant, and
his father, when he was eleven years old. He was then placed
in charge of a man in Pittsgrove, who was to teach him the sad-
dle and harness making business, when he should reach a suit-
able age. This, however, he never did, but scanted both his
food and clothing, compelled him to work beyond his strength
on the farm, and then, after seven years of cruel treatment,
went West, and left him to shift for himself. He then appren-
ticed himself in Salem for two years in order to complete his
trade. Matters went but little better here, and his hard expe-
riences with these masters, both of whom professed religion,
prejudiced his mind against Christianity, and led him to con-
clude that the whole subject could be resolved into superstition
and priestcraft. He soon became a professed infidel, and began
to eagerly pursue the pleasures of the world. He married and
became a father, but did not, on that account, reform his wild
and pleasure-seeking habits. And being fitted by temperament
and talent to be a leader among his associates, he acquired the
infelicitous sobriquet of the ‘‘Devil’s Bell-sheep.’’ Still the
Holy Spirit did not leave him to the unrestrained pursuit of his
own evil propensities. While in the shop, reflecting on his past
life, he saw that it had not been such as he could approve. And
as he called to mind how many around him had died, while he
was spared, God’s goodness so shone in contrast with his own
vileness, that his heart was deeply affected, and he resolved to
strive to conform his future life to the will of God.

Often while listening to Christians praying, he had criticised
them severely, and thought if he could not do better, he would
102 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

surely hold his tongue. But when he fell upon his knees beside
his bench, in order to lift his heart to God, he was astonished
to find that he could only say, ‘‘Lord, have mercy on me.”” He
then sought a more private place, lest he should be seen and
heard, but all his fine praying was reduced to the ery, ‘‘ Lord,
have mercy on me.”’ Having fully determined to be on the
Lord’s side, he next offered himself as a probationer in the M.
E. Church. But as his past life had been one of open profanity
and profligacy, and as he had not yet been converted, some were
afraid of him, but others were in favor of giving him a trial,
and he was admitted as a seeker. His whole soul became so
absorbed in seeking salvation, that he shunned no cross and
shrank from no duty. He at once established a family altar and
faithfully attended the means of grace. Still for nine months
he walked in darkness, and blindly groped for the path. But
he kept his face steadily toward Mount Zion, and proceeded
carefully, feeling for the pitfalls and quagmires, in order to avoid
them, and firmly planting his feet wherever he found solid foot-
ing. Thus unfalteringly did he press forward, till he found him-
self across the dismal, dangerous morass, in the delightful
groves, the clear sunlight and the invigorating air of the ‘‘ king-
dom of heaven.’’ This long struggle was ended while he sat in
his room reading the New Testament. The Spirit shone upon
the word, and so reflected the light upon his mind, that he was
enabled to apprehend Jesus as a present Saviour. He sprang
to his feet, exclaiming, ‘‘ Glory to God, I can convince the
world.”’ And so certain did he feel of this, that he at once:
started on a mission among his neighbors and old associates, in
order to lead them to the same light and love that now illumined
and thrilled his own soul. But to his disappointment and sor-
row, he soon found that it required more than human power to
open their blind eyes and turn them from their idolatries to the
true God. Still, though unsuccessful in this Christian effort,
his concern for their soul’s welfare did not abate. As he had
opportunity he attended camp-meetings and all other places that
afforded the hope of getting or doing good, prayed in public,
used personal effort with sinners, and earnestly strove to pro-
mote the cause of Christ.
WILLIAM LUMMIS. 1038

In the meantime his wife died, and he was again married.
In 1809, some two years after his conversion, he received ex-
horter’s license, and began to hold meetings at Quinton’s Bridge,
Logtown, and the house of a Mr. Gibbs, in each of which places
he formed a society. There were some singular events con-
nected with his ministry at Gibbs. This was a wealthy Quaker
family, in which were several sons, one of whom had received an
injury, which resulted in mental weakness. This wasasource of
troubleand mortification to hisrelatives. But God strangely used
this afflicted youth as a door through which came saving truth,
both to the immediate family and to other Quaker relatives and
friends. He heard Methodist preaching, and embraced reli-
gion, and his changed life unmistakably attested the genuineness
of his conversion and the reality of religion. Soon after this he
was honored with a most triumphant death and an angel convoy
to the heavenly world. He was in an ecstacy, and insisted that
he saw the angels that had come to bear his spirit home. He
left a request for Mr. Lummis to speak at his funeral. The
attendance was large, and a special divine unction attended the
services. In one week the mother died, and he was invited to
preach on the occasion of her burial. This proved to be a time
of great spiritual power, and the services had a wonderful effect
upon her kindred and the neighborhood generally, A class was
soon formed, and religious meetings regularly established at the
house. The Quakers, whose narrow prejudices keep them from
hearing other than their own preachers, made an exception in
his favor. They knew he had but little learning, saw that a gra-
cious influence attended him, and hence inferred that he was
prompted and aided by the Holy Spirit. They would often say
to him, ‘‘I know that thee has not learned thy preaching.”’

He was licensed to preach in 1813. We hardly know whether
to approve or censure the delay of four years, after he began to
hold public meetings, before giving him this license. Those
who confer this authority, are charged with the solemn trust of
guarding the sacred office from the intrusion of improper per-
sons. In many cases this door has been thrown too widely open.
And Mr. Lummis had been a neglected orphan, apprenticed to
hard task-masters, whose glaring inconsistencies had destroyed
104 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

his confidence in religion, and quickened his steps in the paths
of vice and folly. Having been deprived of a proper literary and
moral training, he must have come before the church with but
little more than what nature and grace had done for him. And
yet four years seem a long time for it to require observing men
to discern that God was sanctioning his labors and thrusting him
out into the work of saving sinners. But in view of the effect-
ive and constant employment of his gifts, all opposition finally
subsided, and the voice of the Church concurred to the call of
God.

In 1814 he was received on trial by the Philadelphia Confer-
ence, and sent to Dover, Del. As he entered the Church at the
first appointment, he found a large congregation drawn together
to hear the new preacher. Seating himself in the pulpit he be-
gan to sing,

“ The fields are all white, and the harvest is near,” &c.

The topic was so solemn, and his manner so impressive, that the
whole assembly were melted to tears, many sobbing aloud. He
gave a brief but powerful exhortation, urging to immediate ac-
tion, and then invited seekers to the altar. Eleven came, of
whom nine professed conversion before the service closed. This
course accorded to his favorite maxim, viz., ‘‘ The great end of
preaching is to save souls.’’ To reach this end he often laid
aside the usual forms, and adopted the most direct method of
attaining it. During this year four hundred were added to the
church, chiefly through his instrumentality.

A prominent lawyer of Maryland related the following incident
to the late Rev. T. McCarroll, as having occurred at a camp-
meeting in Delaware. He said, ‘‘ Several of my family were
members of the Methodist Church. .We had spent some days
on the ground, and a number of popular men from the cities
had preached. The meeting was to be held over the Sabbath,
and I concluded to go home, as the circuit preachers were ex-
pected to conduct the services. But my family prevailed on me
toremain. Mr. Lummis preached in the afternoon. In his in-
troductory exercises I found but little to criticise. As he com-
menced his sermon, it was evident that he aimed directly at the
WILLIAM LUMMIS. 105

heart and conscience. Ina few minutes I was so absorbed in
the subject as to forget that I ever had a thought of criticism.
As he warmed in his theme, original and startling figures, burn-
ing words and overwhelming energy flowed like a torrent from
his lips. When he closed I was completely overpowered, so
that I trembled like an aspen. Tor some minutes I did not ven-
ture to move lest I should fall prostrate to the earth. Never be-
fore nor since did I feel so powerfully my guilt and danger as a
sinner, or the necessity of salvation. I have always believed,
that if some one had then taken me by the hand and led me to
the altar, I should have embraced religion. Of all the men I
ever heard preach none seemed more perfectly pervaded by his
subject than Mr. Lummis.”’

In 1815 be traveled Cambridge Circuit, Md. In 1816 he and
eleven others were elected to membership in the Conference and
to deacons’ orders, but for some unexplained reason were not or-
dained. This year he traveled Milford Circuit, Del. In 1817
he was ordained by Bishop Roberts, and sent to Annamessix.
The next two years he was at Accomac, having been ordained
elder by the same bishop in 1819. Lawrence Laurenson was his
colleague for the three past consecutive years, a thing so unusual
at that day as to be worthy of special note. ‘The three next
years he traveled Snow Hill, Somerset and Cecil Circuits.

What he learned during these nine years of labor on slave ter-
ritory fully settled his convictions on the subject of slavery. The
following incident made an ineffaceable impression on his mind.
In 1819, while returning from an evening meeting, a peculiar
sound attracted his attention. He halted, and by aid of the
moon discovered a number of persons in double file. As they
drew near, he saw two men on horse-back, one in front and the
other toward the rear. They were driving a gang of about
twenty slaves, who were hand-cuffed to a chain extending the
length of the gang. He saw the rear driver use his long whip
several times on the shoulders of a female, who seemed much
jaded, and earnestly begged to be allowed to rest, declaring that
she was unable to proceed. Having never seen a company of
human beings driven in chains along the highway, his feelings
became strongly excited; and as the brutal driver still plied his
106 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

lash, he ventured to remonstrate, and urge that they be allowed
to rest. The driver, with a bitter oath, replied that the woolly
heads were his property, and that he did not need any instruc-
tions as to how he should manage them. ‘‘ Well,’’ said Mr.
Lummis, ‘‘if I were in the place of those woolly heads, I would
remember you if ever the time came when those hand-cuffs were
loosed. None but a monster would drive even a brute under the
lash when scarcely able to walk.’’ They parted, but ever after
that he regarded an institution which can turn a human being
into a beast, and the owner into a brutal tyrant, as intrinsically
wicked, and a curse to Southern society. His sympathies be-
came warmly enlisted in behalf of the blacks, and his labors
among those who attended his ministry were unremitting and
largely fruitful in leading them to the Friend of the weary and
heavy-laden. For years, besides averaging one sermon a day,
he often led more than a hundred colored persons in the classes
on the Sabbath.

His subsequent labors were chiefly in New Jersey, and were
in the following fields:—1823, Freehold; 1824, Gloucester ;
1825-6, Cumberland; 1827, Gloucester; 1828-9, Caroline, Md. ;
1830, Staten Island, N. Y.; 1831-2, Tuckerton, N. J.; 1833,
Bargaintown ; 1834-5, Gloucester; 1836, Salem. In 1837, at
the first session of the New Jersey Conference, he became super-
numerary in connection with old Gloucester Circuit, and thus re-
mained till the close of life.

Mr. Lummis was about five feet eight inches high, very broad-
chested and firmly built, and was a man of great physical power
and undaunted courage. His bold reproof of the armed ruffian
slave-driver shows of what mettle he was made. Ata camp-
meeting where, as usual, he was one of the managers, a large,
burly man, slightly intoxicated, came swaggering forward, bit-
terly swearing that he would take his wife out of that sheep-pen,
as he termed the altar. Mr. Lummis was leading the meeting,
and advanced to dissuade him from his purpose. But his ut-
most endeavors failed. When he saw that nothing short of
force would avail, he seized the clothes covering the ruffian's
chest with his right hand, and the right wrist with his left. In
this way he backed him, locomotive-like, out of the circle.
WILLIAM LUMMIS. 107

When released the ruffian retreated to his associates, who rallied
him for his defeat, and asked why he did not knock the old fel-
low down. ‘‘ Why,” said he, ‘‘ when I attempted it he would
gouge my breast with his knuckles as if he would mash it in,
and my right arm might as well have been in an iron vise.”’
And he was agile as well as strong. When fifty years old and
weighing two hundred pounds, he would scale a five rail fence
by placing one hand upon it, with the suppleness of a boy.

His natural endowments were superior, but his hard lot in
early life prevented him from acquiring an education. Then
several years were wasted in utter neglect of both mind and
heart, nor did his after-reading take a wide range, while his
studies were chiefly confined to the Bible, Hymn-book, Disci-
pline, Clarke’s Commentary, and Wesley’s Sermons. With
these, and especially with the Bible, he made himself familiar.
His memory was tenacious, which enabled him to quote largely,
and generally give chapter and verse. He also used freely and
effectively the facts and incidents gathered from reading and ob-
servation. He had a voice of great compass, melody, and
power, and was a remarkably gifted singer. Conscious of the
power of this gift he diligently plied it. He often sang as a sort
of prelude to the public services, and the compass and melody
of his voice, together with the soul he threw into the sentiment,
would so thrill and subdue the assembly as to prepare them to
give a favorable hearing to the word. His language was unu-
sually full, so that he was seldom at a loss for words by which to
express his meaning. And in prayer, especially, there was a
strength and fluency, a copiousness and conciseness, that would
often remind the hearer of the Episcopal Liturgy. His gifts in
exhortation, prayer, singing, and class-leading abundantly made
up for any defects that might be found in his pulpit perform-
ances.

Had his culture and acquirements equaled his natural endow-
ments he would, doubtless, have occupied a very prominent po-
sition as a preacher. But he took humble views of his abilities,
made no attempt at the arts of oratory, and no pretensions to
style. The love of Christ so constrained him that he became
absorbed in his theme and seized with skill and energy the facts,
108 NEW JERSEY ‘CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

truths, and imagery which most readily arose to his mind and
promised to subserve his great aim most effectually. The Bible
and nature, observation and experience, chiefly supplied him
with matter which, being used in an artless, earnest, and im-
pressive manner, and attended by the unction of the Holy
Spirit, arrested attention, disarmed prejudice, defied criticism,
and so threw the sinner off of his guard as to make him an easy,
willing captive. His appeals were pre-eminently to the con-
science, and were often so direct, searching, and powerful as to
carry it by storm. The signal honor with which God crowned
his labors is partly seen in the fact that he received not less than
five thousand members into the Church.

We learn from the Conference Obituary that he labored with
zeal and usefulness as a supernumerary till the autumn of 1843,
when he had a severe attack of rheumatism, from which he suf-
fered much, and which he bore with Christian fortitude. He
had an excellent constitution, having scarcely ever been ill up to
this date. It is said that he missed but asingle appointment on
account of sickness during the whole of his effective ministry.
The disease of which he died was apoplexy, which terminated
his life in ten days after the first attack. When taken ill he re-
marked with emphasis, ‘‘I shall die; and I am ready and will-
ing at any time the Lord shall say the word and call me to him-
self.’’ He was perfectly composed and resigned, while his chief
desire was ‘‘to depart and be with Christ, which is far better’
than to linger in pain and weakness. He had maintained an
unshaken confidence in God thus far, which, as the last trying
scene approached, became all conquering and triumphant. ‘To
him death had entirely lost its sting, and he talked of dying
with as much composure as one would of taking rest in sleep.”
His son Samuel, a local preacher, who has since followed him to
heaven, came home, not knowing that his father was so ill, and
approaching the bed, asked if he knew him. His speech had
nearly failed, and his answer was indistinct. He looked up and
began to weep, evidently because he could not utter his recogni-
tion and dying blessing. The son told him not to weep, that all
would be well, for the kind hand of Providence had so ordered.
He was composed in a moment, and continued in a peaceful
WILLIAM LUMMIS. 109

frame of mind. Ata later period, when asked if he could say,
‘* All is well,’’ he answered with a nod, and then gradually sank
down through insensibility into the arms of death. Thus, like
the setting sun, cloudless and beautiful, the sun of his life passed
behind the western hill of death, Nov. Ist, 1843, in the sixty-
eighth year of his age and thirtieth of his ministry.

Father Lummis was wont to say that he had learning enough
to help him feel the need of more, and, if Providence favored,
he would give his children a good education. The careful industry
and economy of himself and wife led to the realization of this
noble purpose, to a good extent. Twosons, Fletcher and Henry,
and the son-in-law, Rev. H. L. Kelsey, are in the itinerant
ranks. But God took care of most of their children, twelve of
them having preceded him to the ‘‘happy land.’’ The aged
widow lingered on these mortal shores till the autumn of 1863,
when she also joined the blood-washed throng with her partner
and little ones.

Norr. The above memorial is substantially from the pen of Rev. F.
Lummis, but has been enlarged and re-arranged to adapt it to this work.
110 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

REV. WESLEY C. HUDSON.

“He was in duty prompt at every call,
He watched, and wept, he prayed and felt for all,
And as a bird, each fond endearment tries,
To tempt its new fledged offspring to the skies,
He tried each art, reproved each dull delay,
Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.”

Tue sky is clear. Then alittle cloud arises. With marked
rapidity it spreads itself, pouring watery blessings upon the
earth, then disappearing, all again is bright. Such islife. Man
appears a little speck upon the world’s horizon, then enlarging,
pours upon humanity the benedictions of a holy life, retires
from view, and; so far as the human vision is concerned, is as
though he had not been.

But, though the cloud passes away, in after months, the watery
treasures which it lavished upon us, crown the earth with
beauty, and fill our barns with food. So with the good man.
The human passes from our view, but his influence and example
have blest the world for ages yet to come.

“ Our mortal life, our influence is not gone,
When the material bonds around us break,
In other minds our spirit still lives on,

Though dead we speak.”

May it be so in the brief record which we make of the brief but
beautiful life of that young and ardent minister of Christ,
Wesley C. Hudson.

He was born in the City of Philadelphia, October 18th, 1813.
His mother was a godly woman, and, as soon as reason com-
menced its dawnings in her little son, she taught him the value
of prayer; a lesson which can never be too early, or too deeply
impressed upon the expanding mind of childhood.
WESLEY C. HUDSON. 111

From his earliest.remembrance his confidence in God was very
strong, and his belief in the Divine ability and willingness to
answer prayer grew with his years.

With such views, he thought it was only necessary to pray,
and, whatever he might ask, should be received. He soon had
an opportunity to test the correctness of his theory. Returning
from school one day, when between five and six years old, he
was followed through the streets by two larger boys who ridi-
culed him on account of his red, curly hair. This greatly an-
noyed him. On reaching home he went directly to his bed-side,
and with a heart sorely tried, because of the derision he had
been exposed to, prayed most fervently that God would be
pleased, for Jesus’ sake, to make his hair straight and black.
The prayer, not being a proper one for him to offer, of course
was not answered, and his hair remained curly and red to the
close of life. Similar mistakes are often made by older persons.
They pray for objects which are not in the range of Scriptural
propriety, and then, having asked, and failing to receive, rashly
conclude God does not answer prayer. ;

His childhood and youth were marked with great activity of
body and mind. Whatever he did was characterized by great
earnestness. When he studied, all the powers of his intellect
were employed, and he was generally at the head of his class.
But, when the hours of relaxation came, whatever fantastic game
or play might be performed, his physical energies were at once
taxed to their utmost capacity, and he was a leader in all fun
and frolic. Fond as he was of play, however, his love of study
predominated, and often, when his young companions urged him
to join them, he would decline, preferring to remain at home to
improve his mind.

When about ten years old there was a fire, in which some pro-
perty belonging to the father of one of his school-mates was
destroyed. This gentleman engaged Wesley to assist his son in
removing some bricks from the burnt building to the place where
they were erecting a new one, agreeing to give the young work-
men so much a wheelbarrow load.

Upon this new enterprise they entered with great zeal. The
Fourth of July was near, and, in the hope of raising funds for
112 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

that grand old holiday, they employed every. hour that could be
spared from school. When his money was paid him at the end
of the week, greatly delighted nih so large a sum, he hastened
to show it to his mother.

‘What will my little son do with so much money ?”’ inquired
his mother, with an approving smile.

Young Wesley’s eyes flashed with well-earned joy, and won-
dering that such a question should be asked at such a time, ex-
claimed enthusiastically, ‘‘Buy fire-works for the Fourth of
July.”’

His mother did not say much to this proposition, but after his
first pleasure had somewhat subsided, asked him kindly if it
would not be better to take his money and buy a good book, so
that he could have something to look at in coming years. He
thought it would. Cowper’s Poems, in two volumes, were ac-
cordingly purchased. He had them carefully covered with
parchment, and prized them highly all his life.

In referring to them, he often said they were purchased with
the first money he ever earned, and with quotations from their
classic pages, his sermons in after years were often adorned and
enriched.

In his eleventh year he professed conversion. Soon after, he
was admitted to the Church on probation, in which relation he
continued up to his fifteenth year. At that time he became still
more anxious for his soul’s salvation, was received into full mem-
bership in the Church,.and soon after began to exercise in public
meetings.

Though only a probationer, for a period of four years, yet he
felt the restraints of the Church, and, according to his own con-
fession, from that fact alone, was often kept from doing things
which were wrong. He often said, after he became a minister,
that children who made a profession of religion were not suffi-
ciently borne with. ‘‘ Had I not been nursed and cared for,”
said he, ‘‘ I might not have been so easily reclaimed.”

When only a little past fifteen years of age his mother died,
and he was left an orphan. Soon after, he entered an office in
the City of Philadelphia, to learn the business of a printer.
Here. his talents rapidly developed, and. after he had set.type
1
WESLEY C. HUDSON. 113

only a few months, was taken into a higher and more responsible
position. Some time before the term of his apprenticeship ex-
pired, such was the confidence which his employers reposed in
him, that nearly all the care of the office devolved upon him.
One of his fellow apprentices, still living, and in the active work
of the ministry, says, ‘‘ His influence in the establishment was
so great, that if apprentices, or, gray-haired journeymen, were
standing and talking together, they would, at his approach, dis-
perse as quickly as if it was one of their employers.”

During these years, his opportunities for mental culture were
unusually great, for a tradesman, while his gifts and graces, as
a Christian, being constantly employed, were rapidly maturing.

When only twenty years of age, he was licensed to exhort,
and shortly after, in 1833, to preach, as alocal preacher. Three
weeks after his apprenticeship expired, he was called to filla
vacancy on a distant circuit.

His employers offered him a thousand dollars a year, with the
promise, that they would soon give him an interest in the busi-
ness, if he would remain in their service. The firm was one of
the oldest and best established in the city. The business was
lucrative, and the inducements thus held out toa poor young
man, were of the most flattering character, while the pay on a
country circuit for a single man, was only a hundred dollars, the
whole of which meagre sum in those days was rarely received.

Such considerations, with a-mind less devout and resolute,
might have had an influence. With him, however, much as he
respected the persons who made the offer, the proposition had
no weight, A voice was continually sounding in his ears,

“Go preach my gospel, saith the Lord,
Bid the whole world my grace receive,
He shall be saved that trusts my word,
And he condemned who won’t believe.”

And while this was the case, wealth or poverty were not sub-
jects of debate, He therefore responded promptly to the Pre-
siding Elder’s call, and went to Milford Circuit, though, at the
first quarterly meeting, he did not receive enough money to pay
his traveling expenses to his new field of labor.

8
114 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

He remained on this charge until the spring of 1835, when he
joined the Philadelphia Conference, and was appointed with
Rev. I. Winner, to Belvidere Circuit. In 1836, he was sent to
Whippany, but afterwards to Rockaway station. In this charge
he preached three times each Sabbath, superintended two Sab-
bath-schools, and frequently led a large class immediately after
the morning sermon, to which were added his extra meeting
services, running almost entirely through the winter months. This
labor, too arduous for the most robust, prostrated his physical
energies, and his friends believe permanent injury was sustained.

In 1837 he was appointed to Jersey City, in the New Jersey
Conference. His next field of labor in the spring of 1838, was
Bloomfield, where, in the following November, he was married to
Miss Margaret Wild, youngest daughter of James Wild, Sen.,
a lady worthy of the relation to which she was thus introduced
into the church of God. On Christmas-day of that year, he was
attacked with hemorrhage of the lungs, which, though he was
under the care of skillful physicians, all winter, were several
times repeated in a few months. These alarmed his friends, and
he was induced at the next Conference to ask for a supernu-
merary relation. But how can an ardent nature, burning with
the love of God, be silent? He preached the next Sabbath after
Conference, and continued to do so up to August, when he took
the charge of Orange station.

In 1840, he resumed his effective relation, and was appointed
to Woodbury, where he labored for two years with great success.

In 1842, he was appointed to New Brunswick. Here he
labored faithfully, though in much discouragement, for twenty-
one months, in the fond hope of witnessing the fruits of his
toils. He had already seen the tender blade shoot up, then the
ear, and now the full corn in the ear was just appearing; but
while uttering the first joyous shout, over the ingathering harvest,
he was prostrated by disease, and obliged to leave the glorious
work to others. Itwasa great affliction. He felt, sometimes, as
if he could not give up to be sick. ‘'I must go,’’ said he, ‘‘and
encourage the weeping penitents I have left at the altar.” “TI
must go, and try to persuade others to flee from the wrath to
come.’’ His ardent nature, though prostrated by disease,
longed to be in the heat of the conflict, and shout the victory.
4

WESLEY C. HUDSON. 115

“His sword was in his hand,
Still warm with recent fight,
Ready that moment at command
Through rock and steel to smite.”

Rev. C. H. Whitecar, in speaking of his ministry, says, ‘‘ He
was in some respects like a comet, great, luminous, exciting admi-
ration, and even wonder; more, he wasa body of felt fire, warming,
melting, purifying, enlightening, propelling and guiding others.
He was studious, versatile, of good memory, fine taste, highly ima-
ginative, apt to teach, beautifully descriptive, fervent in prayer,
and of unconquerable energy. His soul was too great for his frail
body: when his soul power was in exercise, the framework
trembled. He loved his work, his brethren, and the church.
His highest ambition was to see fruits of his labor.’’

He was systematic. His mornings were generally spent in his
study. In the afternoon he went forth to visit asa pastor. He
had the name, residence, and occupation of each member of his
church in a little book, and, as far as practicable, called on them
once a month, in order to inquire into their spiritual condition.
As a consequence, the people loved him, and the church pros-
pered.

His labors were generally successful, so that though his minis-
try lasted but ten years, many were added to the Lord through
him.

The illness which seized him in the midst of his revival at
New Brunswick, proved his last. It continued with great
severity, for eleven weeks, from January to the second day of
April, 1844. On that day, kissing his fond wife, and little cherub
boy, he said, ‘‘I am stepping over Jordan,’’ and in an instant
his immortal feet stood upon the golden shore in endless bliss.

“They who die in Christ, are blest ;
Ours, be then, no thought of grieving ;
Sweetly with their God they rest,
All their toils and troubles leaving,
So be ours the faith that saveth,
Hope that every trial braveth,
Love that to the end endureth,
And, through Christ, the crown secureth.”
116 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

REV. LEWIS T. MAPS.

Tu following sketch has been condensed for this work from
a valuable memoir, by Rev. T. Hanlon. The committee deeply
regret that their limits do not allow its insertion entire.

Lewis T. Maps was born at Long Branch, Monmouth County,
N. J., May 3, 1820. His ancestors, both on the father’s and
mother’s side, were numbered among the most prominent and
valuable citizens of the community in which they lived, and also
held a distinguished place in the formation and perpetuation of
the Methodist Episcopal Church. Long before the Revolution-
ary war the families were firmly planted in that county, and
gave to the advent of Methodism that influential identification
which, under the blessing of God, has resulted so largely in its
establishment and steady growth.

These families were the first to welcome the itinerant preach-
ers. Inthe days of Asbury and Coke their homes were preach-
ing-places for the ministers of God, and from that time to the
present their hospitable entertainment of the descendants of Wes-
ley has been proverbial. The names of William Throckmorton
and Michael Maps are known all through New Jersey Method-
ism as among its noblest and most honored sons, while their
estimable wives are remembered by numerous ministers, both
for the holiness of their lives, and the generous hospitality with
which they ever greeted the servants of Jesus. Of the children
of his maternal grandfather (Michael Throckmorton) four have
been placed by Providence in connection with the work of the
ministry. Samuel Throckmorton, his son, was an earnest and
devoted preacher, so earnest, that his zeal consumed his life ere
its early morning had passed away. One of the daughters is
the wife of the Rev. William Barnes, of the Philadelphia Con-
ference; another, of Rev. Samuel Jaquett; and still another,
LEWIS T. MAPS. 117

of Rev. Wm. Franklin, of the New Jersey Conference. His pa-
ternal ancestors were, as has been stated, equally devoted to the
Church of their fellowship, and a union of these families, so
alike in sentiment and feeling, could not otherwise than be at-
tended with the happiest results; and Michael Maps and Hannah
Throckmorton after their union in marriage, walked together for
fifty-four years like Zachariah and Elizabeth of old, ‘‘in all the
ordinances of the Lord blameless;’’ and of that marriage was
born the subject of the present sketch.

‘In his early boyhood it is said that he gave evidence
of superior mental ability. His studies were mastered with
ease, and he was soon prepared to assist his brother in his store,
where he remained as clerk for several years. His affable and
courteous manners, combined with his ready use of choicest lan-
guage, made him almost invaluable as a salesman, while the fa-
cility with which he computed accounts gave promise of a men-
tal strength which his after-life fully realized. At the early age
of twelve, under the ministry of the sainted Stewart, he gave his
heart to God and his life to the Church, maintaining an attend-
ance upon religious duties, which kept alive the spiritual-mind-
edness which he had at that time received. A few years after,
while Rev. J. L. Lenhart was stationed in that appointment, his
religious life received an earnest impulse. Through his counsels
he was induced to double his diligence ; and, as he approached
the years of manhood, the impression was powerfully made upon
his mind that God designed him for the work of the holy minis-
try. He was deeply sensible of unfitness for the sacred calling,
and earnestly sought the Divine direction.

He opened his mind freely to his pastor and other devoted
Christians, and by their advice decided to yield to the heavenly
calling and prepare for his great work. With this purpose in
view he entered Wilbraham Academy. Here he applied him-
self closely to his studies, and made rapid advancement, so rapid,
that his first public effort after his return surprised all who
heard him. He had chosen the subject of universal freedom for
his topic, and although the doctrine of the abolition of slavery
was unpopular, yet he discussed the subject so ably that no one
was found sufficiently bold to oppose him. In the spring of
118 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

1839, while but nineteen years of age, he joined the New Jersey
Conference, and was appointed junior preacher on Toms River
Circuit. The description of his leaving home for his first ap-
pointment is thus given by his brother. ‘‘Having been fitted
out with a horse and saddle-bags—the usual equipments of a
Methodist itinerant in those days,—he started for his work.
He left home deeply impressed with the responsibility resting
upon him, and seemed dejected and sorrowful. On his way
through the pines and sands of South Jersey, in the vicinity of
Kettle Creek, he was overtaken by a severe thunder-storm,
which compelled him to take shelter in an old saw-mill near by
the road. Here, sitting alone amid the vivid lightnings and
pealing thunders, he wept as if his heart would break. But his
spirit knew no retrogression, and after a tedious and lonely jour-
ney he reached his appointment, and was cordially welcomed by
the people of the circuit.

He was marked as a rising man at the commencement of his
ministry. His brilliancy of mind, close habits of study, and
faithfulness in all departments of his work, impressed both
the people of his charge and his brethren in the ministry, that a
career of no ordinary promise lay before him. At the Confe-
rence of 1840 he was appointed to Bergen mission. Here also
his ministry attracted large congregations, and his fervid elo-
quence charmed all listeners. During this year he was united
in marriage with Miss Eunice H. Ferguson of Long Branch, a
lady eminently adapted to the sphere in which she was called to
move, and who was to him a most valuable helpmate in the
work of the ministry. In the spring of 1841, at the earnest soli-
citation of the people of Toms River, he was re-appointed to that
charge. Rev. N. Edwards, who was his colleague that year,
speaks of him as a brilliant preacher, and also as one of the most
affable colleagues with whom he had ever been permitted to
travel. He says, ‘‘Though they both went to the circuit as
married men, with a very poor prospect for competent support,
yet, they had a pleasant and prosperous year. God poured out
his Spirit upon the people, blessing them with far greater spiri-
tual prosperity than had been usual for several years past.’ At
the Conference of 1842 he was appointed to what is now known
LEWIS T. MAPS. 119

as Verona, in the northern part of Essex County. The appoint-
ment was one of unusual difficulties, but God blessed the labors
of his youthful servant with marked success. ‘‘ At two appoint-
ments on this charge,’’ writes his widow, ‘‘ there were powerful
awakenings and numerous conversions.’”’ His studies also were
prosecuted with the same tireless energy that characterized
every department of his labor. ‘‘Study to show thyself ap-
proved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed,”’
was with him a motto of daily life, and in the midst of an ex-
tensive revival, his theological studies were pursued with unde-
viating regularity. He now began to attract the attention of the
church as a gifted and eloquent preacher, and an appointment,
usually intrusted only to men of both years and experience in
the ministry, was given to him at Morristown. He followed
Rev. D. W. Bartine, a man whose praise was in all the churches,
and many, while highly esteeming his abilities, were yet doubt-
ful whether he would be able to fill the place of that eminent
minister. But their fears proved groundless, for the youthful
ambassador succeeded in retaining his congregation, and also
added largely to the material prosperity of his charge. His
widow says, ‘‘ Although he went to Morristown with fear and
trembling, yet the Lord blessed his labors and prospered him
abundantly. The congregations had never been larger—there
were numerous accessions to the church, and in every respect
the society was greatly prospered.’’ Here his kind manners and
gentleness of spirit made him numerous friends, while his abili-
ties commended him as an eminent minister of Christ, and after
the lapse of twenty years he still lives in the memories of the
older members as 4 man whose ministry cannot be forgotten.
In a Morristown newspaper printed after his decease, it is said,
‘*Mr. Maps possessed brilliant talents, and during the two years
he was among us made many and warw friends by his social
manners, gentleness of spirit and untiring assiduity in the great
cause of salvation.”’

At the session of the Conference of 1845 he was appointed to
Prospect Street, Patterson. Of this charge his widow says,
‘* Here his duties were arduous, and he labored very hard. The
society had just been organized with only about eighty members,
120 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

yet the Lord blessed the little band with a glorious revival of
religion, so that at the ensuing Conference he reported two hun-
dred and ten members. To give some idea of how much his
heart was in the glorious work I need only say that during the
protracted meetings of this year, he himself preached seventy
sermons in ten weeks. This was the most laborious and suc-
cessful year of his whole life. In the three months intervening
between the Conference and his fatal illness, he had made pas-
toral visits to all his members. But his life of labor and success
was now ended.

On the 18th of June, 1846, he was prostrated with bilious
fever. From the first he suffered deeply, and the care of his
charge, which his sense of responsibility would not suffer him to
dismiss, aggravated the disease. On the Sabbath, while only
able to sit up for a few moments at a time, he desired to be con-
veyed to the church, that he might not lose an opportunity of
preaching Christ to the people. But the disease ran its course
with fearful rapidity, and it soon became evident to those who
surrounded him that recovery was impossible. All that skillful
medical attendance could perform, or that the Christian kind-
ness of loving friends could offer, proved unavailing, until, on
the llth of July, before he had reached the midsummer of
either his years or usefulness, he finished his course on earth, to
develop in his heavenly home the powers which gave such glori-
ous promise here.

“His was the morning hour,
And he hath passed in heauty from the day,
A bud—not yet a flower;
Torn in its sweetness from the parent spray.
The death wind swept him to his soft repose,
As frost in spring-time blights the early rose.”

‘During his protracted illness he suffered much, but realized
the promised presence and support of his God. At one time
he requested his mother to read for him the one hundred and
seventh Psalm. And as she read he emphasized delightfully
upon the amazing goodness and mercy of God toward the child-
ren of men. At intervals, during his sickness, he manifested a
LEWIS T. MAPS. 121

desire to recover, but grace enabled him to submit to the Divine
will with becoming fortitude and patience. Never was he heard
to murmur for even a single moment. On the Sabbath preced-
ing his death, when he was thought to be dying, he took an af-
fectionate leave of wife, mother, brother, and all friends who
were present. When his two little children were brought to
him he called them by name, embraced them, and then com-
mended them to that God who had promised to be a ‘father to
the fatherless.’ This was, indeed, a trying time, but it was a
season in which the Divine presence and power were gloriously
tnanifested, insomuch that those who were present were con-
strained to mingle their praises with his, as he shouted aloud,
assuring them that his way was clear and his prospects bright
for heaven. He requested his early friend, Rev. J. L. Lenhart,
to give his love to the New Jersey Conference with the assur-
ance that he was going to rest. He lived several days after this,
but was seldom able to speak. When questioned as to his ex-
perience and prospects, he answered, generally by signs, that his
way was open to the better land, and in his death he left ample
ground for hope that he rests from his labors and awaits a
blessed resurrection.

He died on Saturday, and on the Sabbath succeeding his re-
mains were borne to their place of interment at Long Branch,
followed by the broken-hearted widow and weeping orphans,
whose light of life had so suddenly gone down in death. On
that same afternoon, in the old church at Long Branch, where
fourteen years before, in the tenderness of childhood, under the
earnest ministrations of Thomas Stewart, he had found an inter-
est in his Redeemer, lay, in the coldness of death, all that was
mortal of the gifted and lamented Maps. The people gathered
from all the country round about, and amid the most absorbing
interest, his former friend and pastor, Rev. J. L. Lenhart,
preached his funeral sermon, after which his body was interred
in the beautiful cemetery adjoining the church, where the un-
ceasing requiem of the ocean sighs over his memory, and the
spray of the sea bedews the grass which covers his grave.

The Philadelphia Christian Repository said of him, ‘‘ In his
death, the New Jersey Conference has lost one of its brightest
122 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

ornaments, and maturer years would have ranked him with its
most eminent members.”’

A Trenton paper says, ‘‘ Mr. Maps possessed a vigorous intel-
lect, a pleasing address, and no inconsiderable share of the fire
of genius, while the whole was chastened and adorned by an ar-
dent and consistent piety.”

His Presiding Elder, Rev. J. 8. Porter, thus speaks of him.
‘*T soon perceived that he possessed more than ordinary abilities
for the work of the ministry, and when he had been but four
years in the work, and had just graduated to elders’ orders, I felt
free to recommend his appointment to Morristown, then, as now,
one of our most important stations. In that charge he remained
two years with credit to himself and profit to the people. His
social qualities were good, his preaching talents considerably
above mediocrity, while his pastoral habits, and prudence in the
administration of Discipline were such as commended him to
the Church as one well qualified for the work in which he was
engaged.”’

Rey. L. R. Dunn describes him, as possessing a brilliant ima-
gination, which often made his sermons glow with the most
beautiful and gorgeous imagery. Rev. W. P. Corbit says, ‘‘ He
was a burning and a shining light, and his sermons were in de-
monstration of the Spirit and of power. My whole soul has
many times been filled with unutterable horror or unspeakable
glory as he described the torments of hell or the transcendent
bliss of heaven.”’? Rev. C. H. Whitecar writes a most truth-
ful and eloquent description of his character, which, it is to be
regretted, cannot, from the short space allowed by the limits of
this work, be inserted entire, and extracts from it would simply
mar its beauty.

Brother Maps was a man of commanding appearance. He was
tall, slender and erect in person, compact in structure, graceful in
movement, and possessed a countenance from which his genial and
intellectual nature was openly reflected. His eyes were black and
expressive, soft and penetrating, and, when preaching, appeared
to flash his meaning into the soul of the hearer. His abundant
flow of animal spirits seemed to know no depression. His con-
versational powers were of a high order, and he was ever the

if
LEWIS T. MAPS. 123

centre of the social circle in which he might happen to be placed.
He was said to have been ‘‘ one of the most affectionate of sons,
truest of brothers, kindest of husbands, proudest of fathers and
warmest of friends.”

As a speaker, it has already been said that he was brilliantly
eloquent. The following anecdote of his preaching used fre-
quently to be related by his venerable father. ‘‘ One day while
he was transacting some business ina Bank, the cashier men-
tioned his name. A few moments after, a stranger, who was
standing by, approached and asked him if his name was Maps.
On being answered in the affirmative he stated that he was from
Philadelphia, and that a young man by that name from New
Jersey, had preached, on the previous Sabbath, in that city, in
the place of Dr. Durbin, for whom the appointment had been
made, but. who could not be present. At first the congregation
were deeply disappointed in beholding so young a man in the place
of the eloquent and revered Doctor, but the feeling soon gave
way under the polished and glowing sermon of the youthful
preacher, and emotions of admiration and delight were sub-
stituted until it was doubtful if the congregation were not pleasd
with their disappointment.’’ ‘‘The written sermons which he
has left behind illustrate the possession of a matured mind and
extensive knowledge. He was familiar with the best authors,
and would quote their language at pleasure. Indeed his memory
was so astonishing that he could repeat almost verbatim any
sermon that he heard.’

In public prayer he hada remarkable gift. In leading the
devotions of the people, he seemed to take them within the verl,
and keep their spirits there until the sacred presence could be
realized by every believer in the assembly. Language as sweet
as his pulpit style was brilliant lent a tenderness to his petitions
which it is impossible to describe, while the imbuement of his
words with the most melting pathos, bound sentiment, and
thoughts in closest unity, and when the Divine Spirit thrilled
through these human instrumentalities, the effect was over-
powering.

He has now, doubtless passed to that inner glory where his
soul so delighted to expand, and tastes the fullness of that rap-
ture whose foretastes were so often enjoyed by him below.
124 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

REY. DANIEL PARISH.

A MEEK-SPIRITED, intelligent child is an object of peculiar in-
terest and loveliness. In this respect the case of our subject
presents some unusually striking traits. Like Samuel and
Timothy, he seems to have escaped the full wreck of the fall,
especially the usual sordid feelings and groveling propensities,
and from a child to have stood erect, with heaven-ascending as-
pirations. He had very few early helps. His childhood home was
neither blessed with a family altar, nor with the restraining and
enlightening presence of religious council and example. No
father’s voice taught him the sacred truths of religion, no
mother’s Christian influence distilled upon his young heart, re-
ligious sentiments and impressions. He was not even taught to
say his prayers, nor did the Sunday-school come in to fill any
part of this void. -True, his aged grandfather often tried to
lead his thoughts through nature up to nature’s God, and to
interest him with incidents of Bible history, and especially that
of the Saviour. But it was with indirect cautiousness of a pious
Friend. His mother also took him to church, but it was where
every thing was so dead, that no convert was added for fourteen
years. Yet froma child he had a nice sense of the pure and
sacred, and shrank from contact with the coarse and vulgar.
The elevated converse of his grandfather entertained and de-
lighted him, but he had little rclish for the childish sports of his
playmates. Called of the Lord, as was Samuel, like him, he gave
an attentive ear and a prompt response.

He was born at Oyster Bay, Queen’s Co., Long Island, April
3, 1799. He says, ‘‘ My parents, Ambrose and Deborah Parish,
did not profess religion. They were persons of high standing
in society, and remarkable for good morals. They instructed
their children to support a good character, but nothing further.”
DANIEL PARISH. 125

When about seven years old, he found in his ‘‘ Youth’s In-
structor,”” that immortal verse, ‘‘ Now I lay me down to sleep,”’
&e. It arrested his attention, and he thus mused: ‘‘ That is a
beautiful prayer; itis right to pray ; I will pray that prayer.”
Thus early, and in this way did he take the first step in an event-
ful religious life. At first he repeated the prayer after laying
his head upon the pillow. This he soon felt to be improper,
and, so prayed at his bed-side. Inashort time, feeling the need
of giving fuller vent to his pent-up soul, he began to proceed
‘fas the Spirit gave him utterance,” after repeating the verse.
Then he laid aside the form, and uttered to God the words that
rose spontaneously from his anxious heart. His widow says,
‘‘ He was wont to pour out his soul in strong cries and tears,
that so disturbed the Quaker stillness of his home, that his kind
father said to him gently, one evening, ‘ My son, can’t you try
to pray without making so much noise?’ This remark gave
him great pain, not because he wished to parade his praying,
but he took that way to relieve his mind of the concern he felt
for the spiritual welfare of the family.’’

He says, ‘‘ As soon as I was able to read, I was very much
pleased with reading the account of the Saviour’s death. I
would frequently cry, and express my wonder that the Jews could
crucify him. Soon after this, I resolved to read the Bible
through. I read five chapters a day. This course I have pur-
sued ever since, with the exception of alittle more than one
year.”’ This record was made in his 26th year, and his testi-
mony to the advantage thus derived is very emphatic.

How safely the Spirit guides the humble, docile mind! His
thoughts had not been made familiar with spiritual subjects.
Neither by precept nor example, had he been taught to pray,
to read the Bible in course, to kneel in time of prayer, or ‘pour
out his soul in strong cries and tears.’’ The Holy Spirit was
his only guide in these several matters.

His early struggles afford some useful lessons. He says, ‘‘I
had no evidence that I was converted, though I felt that I loved
God. I would feel happy while reading certain passages of
Scripture, which I would write down and put in my pocket.”
But to his surprise and perplexity, the re-reading of them did
126 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

not produce the same emotions. Still the repeating of all the
passages he could remember, after retiring, he found a useful
exercise. Some of the expedients to which his perplexity led
him, while they excite a smile, evince singular docility and
earnestness. Fixing his gaze on a certain star, he would say, if
that shoots, I will take it as an omen of God’s favor. At length,
while he gazed, his selected star did shoot, but to his great dis-
appointment, there was no change in his feelings. This was
but one of many tests tried with like success. In the garret of
his father’s house, he had a desk, a Bible, and a hymn book.
This was his sanctuary, where he spent much time in reading
and secret prayer. But his prayer before retiring was audible,
and was so remarkable for depth of pathos and fluency of lan-
guage, that the neighbors frequently collected to hear it. He
also says, ‘‘I did not niix a great deal with the school-boys, and
when I did, J always felt condemned. I would take two or three
aside and talk with them on the subject of religion.”’ He fur-
ther says, ‘‘ At the age of nine or ten I heard Methodist preach-
ing for the first time, by Wm. Thatcher and Coles Carpenter.
I was benefited by their preaching. They made the way so
plain that I was encouraged.’’ Not long after this he attended
acamp-meeting. He had been told that if any one happened
to fall the Methodists would convert him. He stepped cau-
tiously, but did not escape the dire calamity. He says, ‘‘ Oh how
I was frightened. I jumped up, looked every way to see if they
were coming, and then ran.’’ But on recovering self-command,
he returned and received good impressions.

Between the ages of seven and fourteen he pursued the even
tenor of his way with great steadiness and fidelity. Then a
crisis in his history was reached. He was placed with an uncle
in New York City to learn the tailoring business. He was un-
willing to go for fear the change would be unfavorable. Nor
were his fears groundless. His surroundings were sadly averse
to his feelings and religious interests. His uncle, who was a
Universalist, had no sympathy with his religious views. The
shop was full of wicked men and boys, who laughed at his seri-
ousness, and taunted him with being a Methodist. Nor could he
find any place for secret devotion. Poor boy, his courage failed
DANIEL PARISH. 127

him. Not only was his loud praying silenced, but he says, ‘‘I
concluded to get into bed, pretend to be asleep and pray there.
This course I pursued while I remained. But having lost the
form I very soon lost the power. It was no longer a pleasure
but a burden to pray. And then I soon indulged in idle conver-
sation, though I never was tempted to swear since I was born.”
This was the year he neglected to read the Bible. Nor did he
attend church, but ‘‘ strayed about on the Sabbath.’’ He fre-
quently lamented his folly, but having let go his hold on God he
was unable to change his course. After a lonely wretched year,
while in the street one Sunday, pondering, the Spirit as by an
audible voice, pressed these inquiries upon his conscience.
‘“What are you doing? Where are you going?’ He was
powerfully aroused and greatly distressed. His health and his
work were soon so interfered with as to‘enable him to get per-
mission to visit home. He vowed to the Lord to resume his
service if he would open the way for him to remain in the
country. His parents saw the bent of his feelings, and ac-
quiesced. Now he stood committed, and promptly began to
redeem his vow. This he found no easy task. His relish
for spiritual exercises was gone, and three tedious months
passed. before his suit was gained, and then, not with clear evi-
dence at first.

At this period he dates his conversion, which was in his six-
teenth year. Yet he says, ‘‘ When I was converted I found it
was the same that I had felt before going to New York.’’ Doubt-
less it was the same, and if he was never converted before, it
was because he had cherished his initial salvation till he back-
slid in the city. He now felt it to be his duty to make a public
profession, and as his mother was of a Baptist family, his atten-
tion was naturally drawn to that church. But he soon found
that he did not believe its doctrines, and as there was no Me-
thodist church in reach, he deferred the matter. He says, ‘‘ I
strove in my feeble way to seek the power as well as to keep the
form of godliness, and I think I made some little progress in re-
ligion.”’ Still he sighed for Christian communion, but did not
enjoy it till in his twenty-first year. The family now moved to
Belleville, N. J., which event opened a new era in his life. He
128 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

at once attended the public and social meetings, and entered the
Sunday-school. He also examined the discipline, doctrines of
the pulpit and usages of the church, with which he was satis-
fied. His serious demeanor and gifted praying soon attracted
attention, and November 17, 1819, Rev. John Potts invited him
to join the church. He consented, but wished his baptism to be
deferred. This he did to give time for all to be satisfied of his
piety.

Heretofore his helps in the Christian life had been very few.
Now that they were enjoyed he advanced rapidly. In two
wonths after joining the church, he took charge of a class, and
also began to be exercised on the subject of preaching. His at-
tention had been almost entirely confined to one book and one
subject. Now he deeply felt the need of greater literary attain-
ments. He was much perplexed, but when fully satisfied that
“woe is me if I preach not the gospel,” he felt assured that his
way would be opened, and that he would be able to attain the
necessary qualifications. When this conviction was fully reached,
the storm of agitation through which he had passed, subsided,
and he calmly awaited the openings of Providence and the call of
the church.

On the 6th of August, 1820, an exhorter’s license was thrust upon
him, and on the 28th he was recommended for license to preach.
But before this was conferred, he was sent, by Rev. L. McCombs,
Presiding Elder, to New Mills Circuit, with Rev. John Finley,
to take the place of Father Vannest, whose health had failed.
He received license in December, and also a recommendation to
the Philadelphia Conference, to which he was admitted in 1821.
He spent one year with Rev. John Creamer on Asbury Circuit,
and the next with Rev. R. W. Petherbridge on Hamburg. In
1823 he was ordained a deacon, and appointed to St. George’s,
Philadelphia, with Revs. Wm. Thatcher and Thomas Burch.

In March, 1823, he renewed his consecration to God, and ex-
pressed earnest longings for a higher Christian experience and a
fuller unction upon his ministry. He also began to make note
of his exercises and other items of interest, not for the public
eye, but for his own profit. This unpretending diary is full of
holy fervor, earnest self-crimination and deep concern for the
DANIEL PARISH. 129

glory of God and good of men. Rev. Messrs. Reese and Han-
nah, delegates from the British, to the coming General Confe-
rence, visited the Philadelphia Conference in 1824. Their
ministrations were greatly blessed to him, and Bishop George
also ‘‘ preached as if he lived in heaven.”’

He was now transferred to Baltimore, and stationed at Fell’s
Point with Rev. Job Guest. Before xemoving he visited home,
and writes, ‘‘I experience what I have long known, that the
society of my friends cannot make me happy—nothing but reli-
gion can do this.’’ On his return he spent a Sunday in Phila-
delphia. After preaching three times he exclaims, ‘‘ Truly God
was with me. I think he owned me as a minister of his. Oh,
that I could always feel as J did yesterday!’’ At the close of
the General Conference which sat in Baltimore, he says, ‘‘ For
several weeks I have preached but little. I find it no advantage
to be idle.’’ This was a year of severe trials, occasioned partly
by aslight jar with his colleague and partly by small visible
fruits. But even these were profitable, for they led to more
earnest prayer and watchfulness.

He was ordained elder by Bishop Soule, April 10th, 1825, and
sent to Great Falls, with Jacob Larkin. This was a year of
much success. One hundred and seventy were added to the
Church. He also dwelt much upon the subject of holiness both
in the pulpit and the classes, and saw large fruit from this special
tillage. He enjoyed more liberty in preaching than he had in
the city, which, he says, ‘‘ made up for the agreeable society I
left there.”’

In 1826 he was placed in charge of Prince George's. This put
his loyalty to a severe test. He shrank from taking the charge
of a circuit. And then, why need he be torn from the lambs of
the flock? And why must he be sent to the southern, sickly
part of the state? Nor was the field desirable in other respects.
The Church was in a cold state, and he was called to the painful
duty of expelling several members. Reports, too, were circu-
lated affecting his character. Referring to these, he says, ‘‘ But
under this I can trust God. I feel no hatred toward those who
wish to injure me. I would do them a kindness as soon as
others.’’ He also writes, ‘‘Oh, the moral desolations of

9
130 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

slavery! Oh, the dreadful influences of slavery! A view of it
often sinks my spirits. I think slaveholders are the worst of
sinners. They have their good things in this life, and their
slaves evil. A righteous Judge will give to every man according
as his work shall be. ©, Lord, have mercy, have mercy!” At
the close of the year he retrospects thus, ‘‘ April 5th, 1827.
Yesterday I closed on Prince George’s Circuit. During the year
I preached one hundred and seventy-five times. Most of the
people treated me with great kindness, and I hope some little
good has been done. The Lord has been better to me than my
fears. I had not thought to see this day.”’

He was now re-transferred to his old Conference, and sent to
Strasburg with Rev. Henry Boehm. When a few miles from
Smyrna, the seat of the Conference, he was thrown from his
gig and his right foot injured. He was carried back to the
house of his hostess, Mrs. Gilmore, whose kind attentions he
received from April 20th to May 8th. Then, by the aid of
friends, he visited Baltimore and also Great Falls’ Circuit. He
started, June 13th, for his field of labor, which he found in grati-
fying contrast with the former. But his situation was most
painful. He writes, July 26th, ‘‘ Yesterday I was assisted to
preach twice, and meet about fifty in class. My poor foot con-
tinues useless, but I make out to crawl in and out of my gig and
to stand upon my knees and preach.’’ One week later he adds,
“ During the last eight days I have preached eleven times.’’ Do
not these items exhibit an almost unequaled display of moral
heroism? During the summer he visited Baltimore for medical
advice, and was told that time and rest would bring all right.
On his return his fractious horse nearly plunged him in a canal.
His escape seemed marvelous, and deeply affected him. He
ceased to travel during the winter, and Rev. John Nicholson
took his place. ‘‘To be thus laid aside as useless,’’ was very
trying, but, he adds, ‘‘I dare not complain. No, Irather wonder
that I was ever used atall.’’ During the year he preached ninety-
four times. He received every attention that kindness could be-
stow, and during the winter was furnished a home by a Brother
Groff. Soon after leaving there he got word of Sister Groff’s
death, and hastened to condole with the family. Of her he
DANIEL PARISH. 131

leaves this memorial: ‘‘Such a light was scarcely ever blown out.
I never knew one like her.”

At the Conference of 1828, after great perplexity, he decided
to resume his work, and was stationed in West Chester. During
the summer he visited a camp-meeting, at which were unusual
displays of Divine power. Concerning it he makes this strange
record. ‘‘Several Quakers shouted and jumped more extrava-
gantly than any of the Methodists. A preacher among them
made the woods ring with her shouts, and leaped, I think, a rod
ata time.’’ At the close of the year he reviewed it with much
satisfaction. His foot had been less painful than before, though
it was still useless. The net increas¢ of the membership was
sixteen, and the tone of piety much improved.

While at his father’s, in September of this year, the family
having returned to Long Island, he and a niece narrowly escaped
death by his unruly horse. After praising God for the deliver-
ance, he thus moralizes: ‘‘ My loss is considerable, (referring to
his broken gig,) but I do not feel that as I do the strange un-
willingness of my friends to bow down to Christ.’’ Most of his
relatives were yet unconverted. But from the rest he could
turn to his venerated grandfather, who died February 7th, 1828.
‘*Few live as he lived. I neversawsuch aman. When I was
a child he often talked about religion. With tears in his eyes
he would give the history of Daniel, the travels of the children
of Israel in the wilderness, and dwell particularly upon the suf-
ferings of Christ. He also gave mea Bible. Perhaps he was
the principal instrument in my first convictions. His health,
manners, and spirit were remarkable. He was never bled,
never took a dose of medicine, and, I may say, was never sick.
He lived on vegetables. He abstained from flesh, I believe,
that animals might not suffer for him. He never injured any
one, and all loved him. Let me live as he lived.’’ This, truly
is an enviable memorial.

Tn 1829 he was stationed in Elizabethtown, N. J. He did not
wish to be removed, but bowed uncomplainingly. On first
reaching the place his impressions were unfavorable. He says,
‘““The Methodists are gay, and, I fear, deficient in love to God.”
Yet he speaks of a kind reception and good congregations. In
1382 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

July he was terribly shaken by the ague, but in the fall his foot
was cured in the following remarkable manner. He says, ‘‘I
was induced to consult Dr. Sweet of Guilford, New England,
who in afew minutes did all he wished todo. He said there
was a bone out of place, and that he put it back. From the
feeling since, I incline to think he did, though I felt hardly any
pain. My foot was injured April 20th, 1827, and Dr. S. gave
it a twist November 12th, 1829.’’ The doctors told him no bone
was displaced, yet he took no natural step for over two years and
a half. But after Dr. Sweet gave i a twist it got well. Now
he saw the hand of God, both in his removal from West Chester
and in this strange cure. We also find another cheering entry.
“December 22d, On Sunday I preached twice in Morristown.
What a work has God wrought! Two years ago but five or six
members in the place, now between two and three hundred, and
a good meeting-house.’’ The year was not specially prosperous,
but his return was largely petitioned for.

In 1830 the Minutes read, ‘‘ Burlington, Daniel Parish, Wm.
A. Wilmer,’’ and the next year, ‘‘ Daniel Parish, Charles T.
Ford.’”? These were eventful years. On the 27th of April,
1830, he was married to Ann Maria Howard, of Long Green,
Baltimore Co., Md. At this time his health was so poor that
he did not preach for ten weeks, and then only for a short time.
In July his wife had a severe attack of dysentery. Then, after
a tour for health, some Church trials added much to his afflic-
tion. But he was able to resume preaching in September, and
a gracious revival began in October, in which he received a large
baptism, and his sister Eliza was converted. It continued
through the second year, and reached all points on the circuit,
except Mount Holly. During this year he was called to mourn
the death of a sister, Mrs. Lyon, and to bear the loss of his
wife’s ‘‘dower’’ by intrigue. Referring to this, he meekly said,
‘* Well, this may be for good also.’’ His own and his wife’s
health continued feeble, and on the 25th of March he went to
Mount Holly to preach his farewell sermon. He says, ‘‘ Upon
rising in the morning I began to raise blood, so I had to disap-
point a large congregation.”

In 1832 he became supernumerary, and removed to Long
DANIEL PARISH. 133

Green, Md. But before going he visited his mother, expecting
to witness her death, yet was compelled to leave just before it
occurrred. She was happy in God, having been converted late
in life. He preached once in May, and not again till December.
The hemorrhage, which had ceased in September, returned
on the 4th of February, and on the 23d his wife was attacked
with it. This deeply oppressed him. He expected to die, but
was anxious that she might live to care for their two babes. As
this hope waned, despondency, for a time, threw its dark shadow
over his spirit.

In 1833 the same relation was continued, but he took charge
of the church in Morristown. After getting fairly at his work,
he writes, ‘How is this? I find myself again in the field
preaching twice on Sunday, and attending meeting nearly every
night.’’ But in November the hemorrhage returned, and his
physician insisted upon his taking a sea voyage and a trip south.
He yielded to a sense of duty, greatly against his inclination, and
sailed for Charleston, 8. C., December 2d, where he landed
January 3, 1834, slightly improved in health. He was kindly
treated, which he fully acknowledges. Yet he felt impelled to
make this disparaging entry: ‘‘This is a miserably poor, sickly
country. I should take the people to be lazy and ignorant. I
find them kind, but taken up with politics to the great injury of
religion.’’ He sojourned in the city and at different points in
the State till April 17th, and then came the entire journey
home, on horse-back. He arrived, May 20th, after an absence
of five months, partially restored to health.

He now settled in Spring Valley, a few miles from Morris-
town. He did not preach till August, and then only occasion-
ally through the balance of the year. The next year he took
charge of New Providence, with Rev. E. Sanders as a colleague.
He met his appointments regularly, but was kept much at home
by the failing health of his wife. As her body grew weak, her
mind passed under a cloud. The struggle with the tempter was
long and painful. But she got a glorious victory August 11th,
and then gave up friends and relatives, and joyfully awaited her
transfer to heaven, which occurred September 26. The hus-
band was much cast down by this bereavement, but fled for and
134 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

found refuge under the shadow of the cross. And the light of
heaven not only shone in his own heart, but also on the charge
in a gracious revival at Union Village.

Tn 1836 he resumed an effective relation, and was stationed in
Paterson. He prosecuted his work steadily till January 30th,
when the hemorrhage returned. Yet he so rallied as to be re-
turned the next year. In retrospecting the former year, he says,
‘Last year we were favored with great prosperity, in both tem-
poral and spiritual things. We have nearly finished a church,
fifty by seventy feet, and received one hundred and sixty on
trial.’’ The church was dedicated Oct. 5, 1837, and the congre-
gation nearly doubled as they entered the new house. But these
were years of wearing toil as well as great success. Meanwhile
he found in Miss Eliza G. Bonsal, of Spring Valley, what he
much needed—a good companion and mother for his children.

He then spent a year at New Providence and two on Staten
Island. The latter were years of great usefulness, especially in
building up the church in faith and holiness. This, too, was
amongst the pleasantest fields of his ministry. But even here
darkening shadows crossed their pathway. A sweet babe was
taken by him who said, ‘‘ Suffer the little children,’’ &c.

Many interesting particulars must be omitted for want of
space. In 1841 he was returned to Paterson, but at the end of
one month was transferred to the Trenton District, made vacant
by Dr. Pitman’s elevation to the Missionary Secretaryship.
The out-door activities of this position were favorable to his
health, which gradually improved. And though no man among
us could fill Pitman’s place.—and the attempt was no enviable
task,—yet, on parts of the District, at least, he was scarcely less
popular. His fervent piety, the unction that attended his min-
istry, his earnest solicitude for the church’s welfare, and his
agreeable social qualities, commended him to general favor, and
rendered his quarterly visits occasions of no ordinary interest.

In 1845 he was placed in charge of Newark District, where he
pursued the even tenor of his way for nearly three years. Then,
during a quarterly visit to Little Falls, he found that his boot
leaked, and fearing the effects of a wet foot, he borrowed one,
which chafed his instep. Four days later, while on his way to
DANIEL PARISH. 135

one of the Newark churches to hold a love-feast, that foot was
seized by an acute pain. It soon assumed the form of severe
inflammatory rheumatism, but afterward of malignant erysipelas.
He suffered extremely for seven weeks, Then mortification be-
gan, and amputation was thought to afford the last hope of sav-
ing life. The limb was removed, but his reduced strength was
not equal to the shock. This occurred April 1, 1848, and in a
few hours he was released from suffering, aged forty-nine years,
and in the twenty-ninth of his ministry.

During life his varied and severe trials often weighed down
his spirits. Now he could say,

“Not a cloud doth arise to darken the skies,
Or hide for a moment my Lord from mine eyes.”

His widow says, ‘‘ He possessed his soul in patience, not a
murmur escaped his lips. He said, ‘The Lord has not left me
for a single moment.’ He'seemed waiting calmly for the hea-
venly messenger to convey him home. When told that amputa-
tion was necessary, he replied, ‘I am prepared for the result,
and hope my family are.’ Nor did he flinch, but remained calm
and peaceful under the painful operation. He would say, ‘I
can only whisper now, but how I will shout when I get up yon-
der!’”? Thus a life of toil and suffering ended in peaceful, holy
triumph. *

Daniel Parish was respectably connected, but not favored with
early advantages. He early learned to read, and soon became a
diligent studer t of the Bible. But neither his school-studies nor
after reading-habits took a wide range. His attention was
chiefly confined to practical subjects, still he was not deficient in
general intelligence, was unusually familiar with the theology of
his own church, while his habits of reflection secured to him a
good measure of mental discipline. Nature also dealt liberally
with him. His mind was well-balanced, his address fluent, his
style elevated and generally correct, and his sensibilities formed
in the finest mould. His sympathies yearned for the common
weal of all mankind, not excepting the down-trodden slave. He
was never more in his element than when mingling with and
ministering to the sick, distressed, or humble poor. His heart
136 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

was in every good work. The benevolent enterprises of the.
Church found in him an earnest advocate, especially the cause
of education. And his own lot in youth moved him to aid all
young men as far as possible.

His early exercises evince true simplicity and transparency of
character. These traits modified his whole life. He never had-
pet schemes, or personal projects on hand. He deferred mar-
riage several years, for fear of burdening the church. His fields
of labor were received with devout gratitude that God used and
the people bore with him anywhere. He sought a place at the
feet of the humblest, and thought of all hobblers he was the
greatest, and that if any preferred him to others, they made a
strange choice.

He prayed ‘‘ without ceasing.’’ Secret prayer, three times a
day or oftener; frequently quite protracted, and from which little
things could not divert him, was a life-long habit. Healso
breathed the spirit of prayer and gained the art of acting faith
in God from moment to moment. In all this he talked with God
solemnly, but with boldness and freedom of access.

He was a man of great conscientiousness. The calls of duty
as he understood them, he obeyed, and left the result. In this
there was neither bluster nor parade, but a firmness that seldom
faltered, and a resignation that uttered no complaints. Nor did
he fail in little things. He would neither shave, nor blacken his
boots on Sunday, he deemed it a breach of faith, not to begin
service at the appointed time, and especially did he refuse to
travel on Sunday when, on his return from the South, Saturday
night found him but three hours’ ride froma sick wvife and loved
babes, whom he had not seen for five months. Thusa sense of
duty was his guide, regardless of personal sacrifice.

His Christian experience was marked by striking contrasts.
‘* A doubting Thomas,”’ his conquests cost him severe contests.
His growth was not rapid, but steady, for however buffeted by
Satan, or discouraged with himself, he never let go of Christ.
And if he had his gloomy seasons, they were alternated by those
of rapturous ecstacy. As life advanced, he became increasingly
imbued with the spirit of Christ, a bright example of the efficacy
of the atonement to cleanse from all sin. He proclaimed a full sal-
DANIEL PARISH. 137

vation with great clearness and power, and though he seldom pro-
fessed it by name, yet all felt that ‘‘he was a good man, full
of the Holy Ghost and of faith.”’

His success was above the average. At several points large
revivals attended his labors, while as a peace-maker, and in
edifying the church generally, he was uniformly successful. In
the pulpit hé was easily embarrassed, and sometimes made
humiliating failures. But when his thoughts flowed freely and
he was favored with the desired unction, he preached with
superior ability and ‘‘in demonstration of the Spirit and of
power.’ ‘‘ He being dead yet speaketh.”’
188 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

REY. THOMAS G. STEWART.

A.THouGH the subject of this sketch did not enter the itine-
rant-ranks, until he had reached the period of middle life, and
death summoned him from labor to reward, before he could have
been called an old man, the impress which he left upon the
charges to which he was appointed, was so remarkable, that we
look for particulars of interest both in his character and history.

Thomas G. Stewart was born near the city of Burlington, N.
J., October 30, 1790. On his father’s side, his early religious
associations were with the Church of England, but his mother,
who exerted, perhaps, the greatest influence in his early training,
was of the society of Friends. It was his sad loss to be deprived
by her death, of the care and council of this devoted parent,
while he was yet in his seventeenth year. The new matrimo-
nial alliance which his father soon after contracted, does not
seem to have contributed to the domestic comfort or religious
culture, of young Thomas; and at the age of nineteen he left the
parental roof, to work his own way in the world. After a brief ap-
prenticeship to the woollen cloth manufactory, at the falls of the
Schuylkill, heremoved to Cedarville, N. J., to occupy the position
of manager in an extensive establishment then located in that
place. Here he formed an acquaintance with the lady who sub-
sequently became his wife, Miss Sargh B., daughter of Johnson
Reeves, residing near Bridgeton. She was a young lady of
more than ordinary intelligence, good sense, and force of charac-
ter, who proved a helpmeet indeed, ‘‘ doing him good and not
evil all the days of his life.’’ They were united in marriage,
December 25, 1810.

In the providence of God, after brief residences, and varying
fortunes, in other places, he was led, in the Spring of 1816, to
take up his residence in Warren, Ohio. Three years afterward,
THOMAS G. STEWART. 139

the religious convictions which had followed him through all his
earlier career, were brought to a crisis by an alarming providence
and culminated in his conversion. Going into the street in
Warren, to inquire concerning a fire that had broken out, he
encountered an infidel, with whom he was acquainted. After
conversing a few minutes, thé man was suddenly seized with
apoplexy, and fell dead at his feet. Startled by this unexpected
and distressing event, he felt that it became him too, without
delay, to prepare to meet his God. Earnestly seeking redemp-
tion in the blood of the Lamb, he soon found peace.

He was converted in a Young Men’s Prayer-meeting, at which
time, his wife, who had been a Christian for many years, en-
tered the room while he was in the midst of his joy, and sug-
gested that he should say something to the sinners who were
present. Thus prompted, the first exhortation was delivered,
by one from whose lips so many hundreds were afterwards to
hear the gospel, as the power of God to their salvation, and like
those which came after, it is said to have been distinguished by
a warmth and feeling that moved the hearts of all who heard it.
The impulses of an earnest nature, baptized by the Holy Ghost,
forbade him to be inactive, and he was soon engaged, in the
place of his residence and the region round about, endeavoring
to move the people to the great subject of salvation. At the
outset of his religious life, he united with the Presbyterian
Church, of which his wife was a member. But they were both
soon convinced that duty called upon them to change their
church connection, in order to a fuller harmony of sentiment and
greater facilities for usefulness.

The Methodists, whose circuits covered the county in every
direction around, had, at this time, a small society at Warren,
which they joined in 1821. He was soon appointed a class
leader by Rev. Dennis Goddard, and in 1822, received license to
exhort from Rev. Charles Elliott, in which position he continued
active and useful until 1827.

He had made a visit to his father’s house three years previ-
ously, during which his example and conversation had been
blesed of God to their good. The occasion of his final return
from the West, was a summons from his father, on the death
140 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

of his step-mother, asking him to settle in Burlington. His
deep piety, ardent zeal and effective gifts, soon attracted the
notice of the authorities of the Church, and instead of being
allowed to act in the more humble sphere of an exhorter, quietly
in his own neighborhood, he was employed for two years, as a
supply on Burlington and Tuckerton circuits. His call was so
evidently of God, that in January, 1830, he was licensed to
preach, and in the Spring of that year, received on trial by the
Philadelphia Conference; New Jersey at that time being a part
of its territory. The first appointment made by the Conference
was to Pemberton Circuit, a charge consisting of eleven Societies,
of which Pemberton was the most important. His residence was
at Medford, where the effects of his life and labors were seen in
a revival of religion, by which the numbers of that society were
lncreased from seventeen to one hundred and fifty. His col-
league was the now venerable Henry Boehm, noted as the travel-
ing companion of Bishop Asbury, and the prudent, faithful and
successful Methodist preacher, whose life and usefulness were
continued through two entire generations. They labored plea-
santly and prosperously together, and were permitted to see a
healthful advance in the interests of religion on the charge gene-
rally. Atacamp meeting held near Vincent-town, the displays
of Divine power were very marked, and many look back to that
feast of tabernacles, as the time and place of their conversion.
His next appointment was to a field of labor strikingly in con-
trast with the one which preceded it. Pemberton Circuit had
long been the scene of the toils and successes of our ministry ;
part of it, indeed, was among the first ground occupied by the
Methodists in New Jersey, and consequently the community was
familiar with her doctrines and usages, while at the same time
the societies had acquired strength and numbered in their mem-
bership many fathers and mothers in Israel. Here, of course,
were sympathizing hearts, ready to enter into the spirit of his
labors, and helping hands prepared to provide for his temporal
wants. Bergen Neck Mission, to which he was removed, was
new territory, in which at that time, it might almost be said,
Methodism had scarcely an existence, ‘‘ no, not so much as to set
its foot on.”’ Jcrsey City, Hoboken, and Fort Lee were the ap-
THOMAS G. STEWART. 141

pointments, at all which he found only twenty members. Strong
prejudices prevailed also in parts of the charge, so that it was
found very difficult to secure a congregation at each place that
would average more than from ten to fifteen. Large and influ-
ential churches, each sustaining its own minister, are now to be
found within what were the limits of the Old Mission. But
then it was indeed a ‘‘region beyond,’’ where the ‘‘sect was
everywhere spoken against,’’ and its ministers found but few
friends. Still the fervor of Mr. Stewart could not be chilled evenin
this cold region, and he went in and out among the people, ‘‘ tes-
tifying of the gospel of the grace of God,’’ in a way that was not
without its good effects. Communipaw, at which place there
was a class of living Christians, was added to the appointments
on the charge, and other places also were taken up. A series
of evening meetings in Jersey City was owned of the Lord in
the conversion of a number of souls, and the year was closed
with evidences that the servant of the Lord ‘‘had not run in
vain, neither labored in vain.’’

At the succeeding Conference he was ordained a deacon, and
sent to Freehold Circuit, which at this time was of almost. pri-
mitive dimensions. Four hundred miles were to be traversed in
going round it, which required three weeks of heavy toil, to be
followed by a week of rest. But the soul of our evangelist was
as large as his field of labor, through the length and breadth of
which he traveled with a zeal and ardor that never flagged. His
colleague the first year was Rev. David Bartine, a man of emi-
nent ability as a close logical preacher, to whom, with his fiery
nature in exhortation and appeal, Mr. Stewart was an invaluable
adjunct. At the close of the year, the summing up of the result
showed that some seven hundred had been converted. The
great enlargement of the work compelled a re-arrangement of
the plan of the charge, and Freehold was made a six weeks’ cir-
cuit, with three preachers. The state of Mr. Bartine’s health
led to his taking a supernumerary relation, at the Conference in
1833, and Revs. James Long and Mulford Day became Mr. Stew-
art’s colleagues. All of these holy men have since passed away
from earth to the heavenly glory, where, doubtless, they to-
gether magnify the Redeemer’s grace for what they were per-
142 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

mitted to see and enjoy on old Freehold Circuit. Under the new
arrangement good results were reached, though not equaling
those of the glorious year preceding. Three hundred, however,
were added to the communion, and all the societies were greatly
strengthened. Long Branch, one of the principal appointments,
had grown to such magnitude, that it was now constituted a sta-
tion. Neither Freehold nor Red Bank had any Methodist or-
ganization or regular preaching by our denomination until they
were taken on the plan of the circuit during the first of these
years, and in each place a blessed revival resulted in the estab-
lishment of a permanent society.

Tuckerton Circuit, covering what are now several charges, was
his field of labor for the succeeding two years. During the first,
he was laid aside for a season by a hemorrhage, brought on by
excessive exertion at a camp-meeting at Bargaintown. He
preached on each of four successive days, and with an energy,
too, that taxed all his powers. At the close of the meeting,
quite hoarse, exhausted, and sick, he found that even his great
capacity for physical endurance had its limits. As soon, how-
ever, as Providence permitted, he was at his work again, and
even before his physician allowed him to preach a full sermon,
he visited his appointments, telling the people in a few sentences
of the power of the gospel. An incident in connection with this
charge will show that beyond his own denomination he com-
mended himself as a faithful servant of God. A Friends’ meet-
ing-house at Bass River, which was not occupied on Sunday
evenings, was tendered to the Methodists till they could erect a
church of their own. Here he preached again and again ‘‘in
demonstration of the Spirit and of power.’’ Thus the disciples of
George Fox and the followers of John Wesley united together in
upbuilding the Redeemer’s kingdom. Atother points, also, the
work of the Lord prospered, and at the close of the disciplinary
term, he found it trying to part with a people whose numbers
and piety had steadily grown under his ministry.

On Crosswicks circuit he now spent a happy and prosperous
year. The hand of God was evidently with him, and the
churches under his care, ‘‘ walking in the fear of the Lord, and
in the comfort of the Holy Ghost, were multiplied.”’
THOMAS G. STEWART. 143

The next Spring the first session of the New Jersey Confer-
ence washeld at Newark. He was now appointed to New Egypt.
As this charge had formed part of the Pemberton Circuit, when
he traveled it six years before, he was returned to a people he
had once served. But ‘‘a good man, full of the Holy Ghost
and of faith,’’ does not exhaust his usefulness in a short time,
and this appointment proved to be of the Lord. Sinners were
converted in considerable numbers, and especially from among
the children of the established members of the Church. And
believers were so stimulated by his preaching and example, that
they earnestly pressed forward after holiness of heart. New
Egypt, Wrightstown, Imlaystown, Cookstown, and other places,
all felt the impulse of the blessing of the Lord, upon the efforts
of this faithful herald of the cross.

For several successive years Mr. Stewart had been laboring on
a belt of territory stretching well across the centre of the State,
from the ocean to the Delaware river, on circuits lying almost
contiguous to each other. And as he now reviewed this broad
field, he could say of many, ‘‘ The seal of mine Apostleship are
ye in the Lord.’’ He had gone in and out among the people,
aman of one work, and in the face of the toils, trials and diff-
culties incident to the life of a faithful itinerant, had evinced the
spirit of him who said, ‘‘ None of these things move me, neither
count I my life dear unto myself, so that I might finish my
course with joy, and the ministry, which I have received of the
Lord Jesus, to testify the gospel of the grace of God.’’ No
wonder that he lived in their hearts, and was followed on his
departure, by their tears and prayers. To this day many speak
of the time he spent among them, ‘as years of the right hand
of the Most High.’’

He was now to spend another succession of years, on a number
of adjacent appointments, in a different part of the State. The
Spring of 1839 found him the preacher in charge of Cumberland
Circuit, on the lower District in the Conference. With the
exception of Bridgeton and portion west of the Cohansey, the
circuit covered the whole of Cumberland County and a part of
Cape May. On its North-west boundary lay Salem Circuit, to
which he was sent after two years, and at the close of this term,
144 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

took charge of Swedesboro, which lay next in order. Method-
ism had been early introduced, and long established through
this region, and was then as it is now, the controlling form of
religion, in most of its territory. Within it was the birth-place,
both natural and spiritual, of Benjamin Abbott, and here had
been put forth many of the most successful efforts of this won-
derful man of God. In intense earnestness of soul, in that re-
markable unction which attended his preaching and in the suc-
cess that followed, Mr. Stewart: largely resembled him. Taken
together, perhaps, no six years of his ministry were more agree-
able to himself than these. Though beginning to feel the ad-
vance of years, and the effects of toil, in the main his health was
firm ; the charges were strong in numbers and well supplied with
active and influential official boards; his family was surrounded
by kind friends and a pleasant community; his colleagues were
such men as Crouch among the dead, and Raybold among the
living ; and wherever he went ‘‘the hand of the Lord was with
him, and a great number believed and turned unto the Lord.”’
Indeed so greatly were many of the appointments strengthened
by accessions, that charges were divided and sub-divided, at the
time, or soon after his leaving them. Among the stations
dating their origin about this period, are Millville, Cedarville,
Penn’s Neck and Pittsgrove. Bright, however, as was the state
of things in the main, even here, he was reminded in a power-
ful manner, that this is not our rest. Jan. 2, 1848, while the
family resided at Allowaystown, on Salem circuit, his son Joseph
died, and in August of the following year, Martha, his third
daughter, followed her brother. A pulmonary disease was the
destroyer in both cases. Insidious was its approach, and rapidly
did it do its work, leaving the stricken survivers to mourn over
the desolation it had wrought. In both cases, however, religion
displayed its power, enabling this good man to see in his own
family how it can sustain in nature’s great extremity.

Leaving Swedesboro in 1845, he was sent to Moorestown with
Rev. Rodney Winans as a colleague, and was returned the next
year with Rev. Wm. R. Rogers and John J. Morrow as assist-
ants. This was his last appointment. Faithfully did he per-
form his work, and here, as elsewhere, many souls were given
THOMAS G. STEWART. 145

to his ministry. But another daughter followed her brother
and sister to the grave, and at the close of the term he found
himself compelled to ask for rest.

Eighteen years had now elapsed since he entered the traveling
connection, during the whole of which time he had been in
labors more abundant. Restricted to the State of New Jersey
in the sphere of his movements, he traversed a large portion of
its more southerly teritory,,and that garden of Methodism was
largely increased in productiveness by his zealous and divinely
sanctioned labors in its tillage. In the revivals where he la-
bored, about five thousand souls had been received into the
Church, the piety of the membership greatly promoted, and
‘every charge handed over to his successor in a better condition
than when he entered upon it. These results were attributable,
under God, to a faithful use of natural, combined with such ac-
quired gifts, as his few early advantages and his limited oppor-
tunities for self-improvement, enabled him to secure. He
studied, not in ‘‘the schools of the prophets,’’ but the Bible
and man, and preached the gospel, ‘‘ not in the words which
man’s wisdom teacheth, but which the Holy Ghost teacheth.”’
Perhaps never, than in him, was a more life-like illustration
given of the lines of Charles Wesley.

“The love of Christ doth me constrain,
To seek the wandering sons of men ;
With cries, entreaties, tears, to save,—
To snatch them from the gaping grave.”

Carried away himself by his great theme, he often carried
away his audience with him. Young and old, rich and poor,
both sexes and all classes, felt, and confessed they felt, his power.
Nor were the converts under his ministry altogether from the
illiterate and obscure. Refinement, intelligence, and position,
in many cases, marked the character and condition of those
who gratefully acknowledged themselves among his spiritual
children.

It was not possible for the active spirit of Mr. Stewart, even
after he had retired from the effective ranks, to be content

without employment, and, though a supernumerary after the
10
146 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

Conference of 1847, he continued to preach and travel con-
siderably. In some cases the importunities of friends led him
to overlook the dictates of prudence, but it was with him, as he
said to a friend, when he had been prevailed upon to preach
three times in one day, ‘‘ Ask me,’’ said he, ‘‘to do anything
but preach, and I have the power to decline; but to refuse
standing in a place where all my desires are centred, towards
which an irresistible force moves me, and I can only be
passive.”’

His last sermons were preached in Burlington, and the text
of the final one, ‘‘ The time is short,’’ in view of the fact that
he died in about two weeks after preaching from it, was very
significant. On Friday, January 14th, 1848, he was attacked
by Pleurisy, at the house of Rev. C. H. Whitecar, then sta-
' tioned in that place. He repaired to his home in Bordentown,
but the disease did not abate except at intervals. Before leay-
ing Burlington he said to Mrs. Whitecar, ‘‘ When I am sick I
investigate my spiritual condition, to see whether, if God should
call me, I am prepared to stand before him and give an account
of the deeds done in the body. Iam not fearful but that it is
now well with me. I believe an abundant entrance will be min-
istered to me, into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and
Saviour Jesus Christ.”’

On Friday, the 21st, he suddenly became worse, his disease
assuming a typhoid character. From this time his mind wan-
dered. On Saturday and Sunday he was unconscious nearly all
the time, and at two o'clock in the afternoon of the next day,
his spirit took its flight. His last intelligible words were, ‘* All
is well.’’ His funeral sermon was preached by Rev. John 8.
Porter, from Acts xi. 24: ‘‘He was a good man, full of the
Holy Ghost and of faith, and much people was added to the
Lord ;’”’ a most appropriate theme.

“Servant of God, well done!
Thy glorious warfare’s past ; /
The battle’s fought, the race is won,
And thou art crowned at last.”
VINCENT SHEPHERD. 147

REV. VINCENT SHEPHERD.

AS no responses to the requests of the committee, for infor-
mation concerning him, have been received from his relatives,
the writer is compelled to present the following meagre sketch,
as all that can be given of a man eminently worthy of an ex-
tended memoir.

Rey. Vincent Shepherd was born in the town of Wantage,
Sussex Co., New Jersey, in October, 1808.

His early days were spent amid the magnificent scenery of his
native hills, which no doubt fostered a seriousness of mind that
was ever afterward a marked characteristic of both the man and
his ministry. In his youthful days, under the preaching of the
venerable Benjamin Griffin, he was led to give his heart to God
and connect himself with the church. Of this devoted minister
Brother Shepherd always spoke in terms of endearing apprecia-
tion as his spiritual father.

The consistency of life manifested by Brother Shepherd, his warm
interest in souls, together with marked abilities in public addresses,
induced the church to license him in his twenty-fourth year as
an exhorter. He was so abundant in labors, and his gifts im-
proved sorapidly, that insix months more, they accorded him the
honored and useful position of alocal preacher among them. Itwas
butashort time after this, that the indescribable urging, which the
Holy Spirit presses upon those it calls to the ministry, came upon
him, and the duty of an entire consecration to the work, became
a certain conviction, and in a brief period after his license as a
local preacher, he was received on trial in the Philadelphia Con-
ference, and appointed to Milford Circuit. His year of labor here
was successful, and the rapid developement of his abilities gave
large promise of future usefulness. At the ensuing conference
he was appointed to ‘‘ Hssex,’’ then numbered among the promi-
148 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

nent circuits. He labored here with zeal and assiduity, leaving
behind him the impression of an earnest and devoted minister.
In 1835 he was admitted into full connection in the Conference,
ordained a Deacon by Bishop Emory, and appointed to Rock-
away, where he endeavored to improve both his time and
abilities in his Divine work. In 1836, he crossed the state lines,
and spent a year toiling for the Master in the large and import-
ant town of Easton. In 1837 he again crossed the state lines
into Delaware, and was stationed in Smyrna. In 1838 he was
transferred to the New Jersey Conference, and appointed to
Plainfield, where he remained two years preaching with great
acceptability and usefulness to the people of that town. In
1840 he was sent to Belvidere. While here he was united in
marriage to Miss Susan Dwight, of Dudley, Mass., a lady emi-
nently qualified to assist him in the work to which he had
pledged his life. Her companionship and tender sympathy
during the rest of his career was invaluable to him, cheer-
ing the natural seriousness of his character, and brightening the
despondency to which he was occasionally subject. His appre-
ciation of her was commensurate with her worth, and the gentle
deference of his manner to her gave ample proof of the regard
in which she was held by him. This lady still survives him,
and resides in Brooklyn.

In 1841 he occupied the important station of New Brunswick.
In 1842-3 he labored in Jersey City. During his administration
in this place he supervised the interests of the society at Ber-
gen, Five Corners, and it was largely through his efforts that a
church was built in that place and the influence of Methodism
rendered permanent. Dr. Hornblower, a nephew of the late
Chief Justice of that name, attended his preaching, and often
spoke of the influence exercised upon the community by the
gentlemanly demeanor and pulpit abilities of Brother Shepherd.
In 1844-5 he was stationed in Rahway, where his health, natu-
rally feeble, and rendered more so by his studious habits, gave
way entirely, and he was compelled to take a supernumerary
relation. He removed to Jersey City, where he lingered until
July 1st, 1848, when, under the power of a sudden attack of
apoplexy, he left the earth for heaven.
VINCENT SHEPHERD. 149

In person, he was slender but symmetrical. His countenance,
grave and solemn, left upon all who came in contact with him,
an impression of spirituality and holiness. His bearing was al-
ways that of a refined and cultivated man, and his conversation
deeply and gravely religious. In pastoral habits and usefulness
he had few superiors. In diligent study he might rank asa
model. His preaching abilities were above the average, and se-
cured him prominence of position. His spirit was progressive,
and adopted the improvements of the age as necessities in the
‘advancement of the Church, and, altogether, he ranked as a
workman that needed not to be ashamed.

The following estimate of his character is from the pen of
Rev. J. S. Porter, D. D.: “‘He was a good man anda good
minister of the Lord Jesus. His talents were above mediocrity,
his attainments respectable for his opportunities, and, had his
health been sufficient to have borne close application, and his
life been prolonged, he would have taken a high position in our
Church and ministry. When we were associated in the work, I
found him a true man and valuable fellow-laborer, in whose
hands the work prospered.’’

This estimate of his character was that of all who knew him,
and, while in his transition from earth, the heavenly mansions
gained another occupant, the vineyard here lost a valuable
laborer.
150 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

REY. JOHN WALKER.

On the walls of many of the dwellings in the southern part of
New Jersey, is the likeness of a man whose thin and furrowed
visage, show him to have been far advanced in years when it
was taken. But the bright eye still beams with the fires of
earlier days, and the lines about the mouth, and lower part of
the face, indicate a character in which decision and energy
have been strongly marked. This is the likeness of Rev. John
Walker, one of the many venerable men who still lingered among
the veterans of the itinerancy, and reflected honor on the New
Jersey Conference, of which they were members and to which
they were spared for some time after its organization. Of
Faither Walker, the following sketch has been prepared by one
who had every opportunity to know him well, and whose admi-
ration and affection were strengthened and deepened by the in-
timacy and extent of that knowledge.

JOHN WALKER was born in Burlington County, N. J., Dec.
14, 1764. His parents both died when he was young, and left
him, (an only son,) to the care of four elder sisters. At the
age of fourteen he was apprenticed to the shoe-making business,
in Mount Holly. In his nineteenth year, and during his resi-
dence in this place, he was converted to God, and joined the
Methodist Episcopal Church. At the age of twenty-one he was
licensed to preach, and sustained that relation to the local minis-
try with acceptability and usefulness. Sept. 28, 1788, he was
married to Miss Mary Lees, a worthy member of the same
church. Removing to Philadelphia about the year 1795, he
continued to exercise his gifts, both as class leader and local
preacher. In the year 1802, having been recommended to and
received by the Philadelphia Conference, he entered upon life
in the itinerancy. At this time a preacher with a family had to
JOHN WALKER. 151

endure many privations and make large sacrifices, as the pro-
vision, in a pecuniary point of view, was scanty in the extreme.
The circuits were of great extent, and rides long and wearing,
which for many years Mr. Walker performed on horse-back,
often preaching every day in the week, and three times on the
Sabbath, besides meeting the classes. At the Conference held
in Soudersburg, Pa., May, 1804, he was ordained a deacon by
Bishop Asbury, and an elder, by the same Bishop, at the Con-
ference of 1806, held in Philadelphia. His parchments which
certify to these ordinations, have been carefully preserved as
precious relics of the past.

Although Mr. Walker did not fully enter upon his great life-
work till in his thirty-eighth year, yet he continued to go through
the toils, privations and hardships of an effective traveling
preacher, for thirty-three consecutive years. He served the
following charges: 1802, Trenton, N. J.; 1803, Flanders; 1804
and 1805, Salem; 1806, Chester, Pa.; 1807, Bristol; 1808,
Philadelphia; 1809, Chester; 1810 and 1811, Lancaster; 1812,
Bristol and Northampton; 1813, Smyrna, Del. ; 1814,Dauphin,
Pa.; 1815, Trenton, N. J.; 1816, Gloucester; 1817 and 1818,
Salem ; 1819 and 1820, Burlington; 1821 and 1822, New Mills;
1823 and 1824, Freehold; 1825 and 1826, Trenton; 1827 and
1828, Salem; 1829 and 1830, Bargaintown; 1831 and 1832,
Camden; 1833 and 1834, Swedesboro. About this time his
health became very much enfeebled, not only from increasing
age, he having passed beyond the Psalmist’s limit of three-score
yers and ten, but also owing to severe suffering, endured for
many years, from a painful disease; and in the spring of 1835,
he reluctantly consented to have his relation changed from ef-
fective to supernumerary, in which he continued to the end of
life.

He never asked for or refused an appointment, but always
cheerfully went, wherever the authorities saw proper to send
him, only praying in the name of the Lord, for success in win-
ning souls to Christ. His whole soul was in the work of his
Master, and he never failed to secure the love and confidence
both of the people and his brethren in the ministry. He loved
the preachers; indeed his large and benevolent heart embraced
152 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

all mankind. But to the preachers, and especially those of the
New Jersey Conference, he was ardently attached. He never
forgot them in his prayers, frequently mentioning name after
name, in his supplications at the blood-sprinkled throne of
grace.

January 15, 1833, he was called to endure a severe trial,—the
death of his beloved wife. She had been the companion of his
joys and sorrows upwards of forty-four years. Converted to
God in her sixteenth year, she had attached herself to the M.
E. Church in Mount Holly, then in its infancy. Always walk-
ing worthy of the profession she made,

“ None knew her but to love her,
None named her but to praise.”

Dying of consumption, she suffered long and much, but her
mind was calm, clear, full of confidence in and submission to
God, and the closing scene of her life was one of glorious tri-
umph.

At this time he and his daughter Mary Ann, took up their resi-
dence in an humble little cottage-home at Clarksboro, Glouces-
ter County, N. J. This resting place for the weary, he called
‘“‘The Pilgrim’s Retreat.’’ Here he kept a little chamber, a
bed, a table, a stool and a candlestick, for his friends, who,
from time to time, would call and spend a night or two with
him. He always welcomed them with the warmth of a truly
benevolent heart, and with a sincere friendship, shared with
them the best he had.

In this pleasant retreat he spent the balance of his days, but
not in inglorious ease. His zeal for God and his cause continu-
ing unabated, he preached and held meetings, even beyond his
strength. He took his regular appointments on the plan of the
circuit with the local preachers, often meeting two engagements
on the Sabbath, besides preaching frequently at funerals. When
urged by his presiding elder to desist from so much labor, he
said, and his eye sparkled with divine love while he said it,
‘Brother Neal, God gave me a commission to preach the gos-
pel, many years ago, and he has not taken it from me. He:
blesses me and the people whenever I attempt it. While he
JOHN WALKER. 153

gives me strength of body and blesses my soul in the work, I
believe it to be my duty to labor, and I dare not refrain.
Through his grace sustaining me I expect to continue till he
calls me home.”’

He preached his last sermon in Clarksboro, Sept. 10, 1848,
from the words, ‘‘ But if we walk in the light, as he is in the
light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of
Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.’’ He loved
holiness, and preached it by his life as well as in the pulpit.

A few days after preaching the above-mentioned sermon, he
fell and injured his hip so seriously, that he never walked after-
ward. He now suffered extremely, and for nearly seven months
languished on a bed of severe affliction and pain. Yet when he
could no longer do the will of God, he calmly submitted to suffer
that will, with a truly Christian patience and meekness. Siill,
the trial was very great, and he had frequently to pray for sus-
taining grace. Often he would say, ‘‘It takes more grace to
suffer than to do, but blessed be the Lord, I can say, ‘Thy will
be done,’ it is all right, he knows just what to do with me, my
confidence is strong in the Lord, his promises are all yea and
amen in Christ Jesus. I trust in nothing I have done, but
clinging to my precious Saviour, I rest on the atonement he has
made. J ama sinuer saved by grace. Glory to God, for victory
over the fear of death, hell and the grave.”’

Through all his affliction, he was never known to murmur, but
with holy joy, would look forward to the time of his release. He
was ready winged for his upward flight. Yet with Job, he
would say, ‘‘ All the days of my appointed time will I wait till
my change come.’’ Sometimes for hours together, he would
appear absorbed in deep meditations and lost to all below. On
one of these occasions, his devoted daughter, laying her hand on
his head, said, ‘‘ Papa, what is thee thinking about?” Opening
his eyes, while his countenance beamed with delight, he said
with great emphasis, ‘‘I am thinking about heaven and the
blood-washed company before the throne.’? Conversing, one
day, with one of his friends and admirers, he was drawn out to
speak of some of the hardships and privations he had endured
ou the first circuits he traveled. But suddenly stopping and
154 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

looking his friend full in the face, he said, ‘‘ My dear Brother
Shaw, I put no dependence in anything I have ever done or suf-
fered, in the cause of my Lord and Master.

‘In my hand no price I bring
Simply to the Cross I cling.’

Jesus is my great high priest. He has made an all-sufficient
atonement, and it is the consolation derived from the precious
gospel, I have so long tried to preach to a perishing world, that
sustains me now. Oh, I would like to have the privilege of pro-
claiming that glad news once more!’’ and added, with energy,
‘‘T would like to give the devil’s kingdom one more stroke.”’
After a pause he further said, ‘‘ But my work is done, and I
must die ;’’ and, with rapture kindling in his eye, he added, ‘“‘I
am not afraid to die. Glory to God, the Judge is my friend,
yes, my judge, my friend. Glory, glory, glory!”

A few days before his death, Rev. Mulford Day, preacher in
charge on the Circuit, and his faithful friend, called upon him,
and after some profitable conversation, said, ‘‘ Father Walker,
what shall I tell the preachers at Conference?’ With much
animation, he said, ‘‘Tell them J am going to heaven; there is
no doubt of that; no, not adoubt. I am going to heaven.”
He also said to Brother Day, ‘‘ My sufferings are great, but they
will soon be over. Oh, how gladly would I exchange time for
eternity !’’

His sun set without a cloud. To him death was a kind angel,
that opened the gates of bliss. He calmly laid his head on
Jesus’ breast, and without a struggle, a groan, or even a sigh,
sweetly breathed his life out there, about one o’clock, on Thurs-
day morning, April 5th, 1849. His funeral took place on the
following Sabbath afternoon, when an immense concourse of
friends and acquaintances, from ten to fifteen miles around the
country, convened together. A very appropriate sermon was
preached by his long-loved and kind friend, Rev. John K.
Shaw, the Presiding Elder of the district, from the words, ‘‘To
die is gain.”’

He left five children and twenty-two grandchildren to mourn
their loss. He was buried in the grave-yard attached to the

t
JOHN WALKER. 155

Methodist Episcopal Church in Clarkesboro. On the top of the
humble stone which marks the place of his interred remains, is
carved the figure of a flying angel blowing a trumpet, and un-
derneath this the inscription, ‘‘ Not dead, but sleepeth.”” Rev.
John Walker departed this life, April 5th, 1849, in the eighty-
fifth year of his age. He was sixty-three years a member, and
fourty-seven years an itinerant minister, in the M. E. Church.
Ardent in zeal, abundant in labors, and emniently successful in
winning souls to Christ.

“Servant of God, well done!
Thy glorious warfare’s past ;
The battle’s fought, the race is won,
And thou art crowned at last.”

On his grave the Summer rose sheds its fragrance, the ever-
green myrtle creeps silently, entwining itself among the graves,
and the weeping-willow at the head, bends its graceful branches
to the breeze, all planted by the hand of bereaved affection.

“°?Tis a happy thought that our loved and lost,
Forever are hovering nigh ;
That they kindly would all our footsteps lead,
To the home of the blest on high.”

An extract from the Conference Obituary, showing the esti-
mation in which he was held by his brethren at the time of his
death, must close this memoir. ‘Since our last Conference
one of the fathers has fallen asleep. The aged, the venerable,
the beloved Father Walker isno more. A volume might be
written concerning the excellencies of our dear departed friend.
As aman, he was universally beloved. He loved everybody,
and everybody loved him. Asa Christian, his piety was deep
and genuine. He possessed much of the spirit of the beloved
John, whose name he bore. As a preacher, he was plain,
simple, and unadorned. ‘Jesus and the resurrection’ was his
constant theme. Asa minister of the New Testament, he was
successful in winning souls. He was in labors more abundant,
not only while in health and strength, but in old age and infirmi-
tics. He did not think that because he was a supernumerary,
156 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

his work was done, but even during his last year on earth con-
tinued to fill his appointments till he was disabled. The past,
the present, and the future all smiled upon him; and when his
work was done, like Paul the aged, he looked back upon his life
with pleasure, and forward with joy; exclaiming, ‘I am now
ready to be offered and the time of my departure is at hand. I
have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have
kept-the faith; henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of
righteousness.’ His reward will be great, his crown bright; for
‘they that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firma-
ment, and they that have turned many to righteousness, as the
stars forever and ever.’ ”’
RICHARD LANNING. 157

a

REV. RICHARD LANNING.

“How beauteous are their feet
Who stand on Zion’s hill,—
Who bring salvation on their tongues,
And words of peace reveal !”

Ricnarp Lannine was born in the beautifully-undulating
county of Sussex, N. J., on the 13th day of June, 1809. Re-
mote from church privileges, and the blessed advantages of the
Sabbath-school, he enjoyed in the very beginning that which is
of unspeakable value to every child, the prayers and councils of
pious parents. These produced impressions so deep and holy,
that at the age of eighteen he gave his heart fully to God. His
religious experience was at once clear, and his renewed life so
consistent, that when twenty-one years of age, he was licensed
to exhort. How often his native hills echoed with his voice, as
in school-house and cabin he urged sinners to flee from the
wrath to come, we may not know; but we are well assured he
was faithful in this work, for in 1833 the Church enlarged the
sphere of his usefulness, and gave him authority to preach the
gospel.

In those days Rev. M. Force was Presiding Elder on Asbury
District, and finding Brother Lanning, whose young wife had
just been torn from his side by death, cast down, yet intelligent
and zealous, employed him, in 1835, as a supply on Hamburg
Circuit.

In 1836, he was received on trial by the Philadelphia Confer-
ence, and appointed with Abraham Gearhart to Asbury, a cir-
cuit numbering about five hundred members, and of considerable
__ influence and financial strength. The word of God, as uttered
by these devout men in that region of country, was quick and
powerful, and accomplished that whereunto it was sent.

+
158 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

The New Jersey Conference became a separate organization in
1837, and Rey. Sedgwick Rusling and Richard Lanning were
appointed within its bounds to Newton, another large and im-
portant circuit, in Sussex County. Here Brother Lanning la-
bored one year, and was then placed in charge of Milford station,
on the west bank of Delaware River, in Pennsylvania.

Tn this field his labors were more circumscribed, and he had.
larger opportunities for those intellectual pursuits in which his
mind so greatly delighted, and for which he had such an intense
thirst. These opportunities were so perseveringly improved,
that when he left Milford, not only was his own mind greatly en-
larged and strengthened, but the church also was much bene-
fited by his diligent course of study. His class-mates and com-
mittees of examination acknowledged his intellectual power, and
readily pronounced him first in the class with which he gradu-
ated.

In 1839 he was stationed at Bloomfield, a beautiful village a
few miles west of Newark.

Milford and Bloomfield were both small stations, too weak
financially to support men with families, yet they were of such
importance as to require the best talent amongst the young men
of the conference, and the appointment of Brother Lanning to
these fields is proof of the high estimate placed upon his minis-
terial abilities.

While stationed at Bloomfield, he was married the second
time, and Miss Harriet Pitts, of Orange Co., N. Y., became
his wife, who was a devoted, affectionate, and sympathizing
companion.

Leaving Bloomfield, he was appointed in 1840-41 to Nyack,
N. Y. Nothing could have been more congenial to a cultivated
mind than the beautiful scenery of this romantic place. The
towering hills on the north, between Nyack and Haverstraw—
the noble Hudson, spread like a vast sheet of molten silver be-
neath the sun—villages and princely mansions, sleeeping in the
hazy distance on the farther shore—the scores of steam and sail-
ing vessels dashing proudly on their way, to or from the distant
city—were all calculated to inspire exalted sentiments, while the
quiet of the village itself gave ample opportunity for cherishing
RICHARD LANNING. 159

those sentiments, which, incorporated with the blessed teachings
of the Bible, would make him a wiser man and a better minister.

The Church felt the influence of such exalted thoughts, and
his well-prepared discourses advanced it in knowledge and Chris-
tian holiness.

In 1842 he was sent to Rome and Wantage, and in 1843, to
Belvidere, where his health so far failed that he became a super-
numerary, and his disease, a bronchial affection, continuing to
increase, he remained in such relation to the close of life.

In the spring of 1846 he removed his family to Trenton, where
he was known as a man of sweet spirit, modest pretensions, and
unimpeachable integrity. His whole life inspired confidence in
the genuineness of his piety. His religion was more than form,
—it was the ‘‘love of God shed abroad in the heart, by the
Holy Ghost given unto us.’’ The means of grace were a special
joy to his heart. The songs of Zion—the voice of prayer—the
class-meeting—the love-feast, the word of God, read or ex-
pounded,—the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper—Christian fel-
lowship—every form of religious service gave him great delight.
Often while engaged in the house and worship of God, his lips
would exclaim,

“ My willing soul would stay
In such a frame as this,
And sit and sing herself away,
To everlasting bliss.”

Residing, the latter part of his life, in the extreme suburbs
of the city, remote from the church, he was often deprived of
its holy privileges. This was much regretted, as the priva-
tion, in connection with his physical debility, sometimes pro-
duced mental depression. But a visit from a Christian friend,
religious conversation, singing, and prayer, would soon revive
his desponding spirit, and his heart again was glad.

He was much afflicted, but afflictions are not in vain; even
trials and sorrows have their mission, and if properly received,
will not only wean us from this world to which we are so often
unduly attached, but will bring our hearts to such a condition,
as under the Spirit’s influences promotes purity, even as the fire
160 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

purifies the silver. Then, Jet us hail afflictions, when divinely
sent, not as stern expressions of a Father’s anger, but as hand-
maids of the Lord, effectually working together for our good.
Such was their influence with him. As time rolled on, his rapid
approach to the grave became more and more evident.

On Saturday morning, January 5th, 1850, he was not able to
rise from his bed, and complained of great weakness. Two or
three times through the day he found it very difficult to breathe.
The night was one of severe physical suffering, but his mind
was unclouded. About midnight it was thought he was dying,
and his children were called up to receive his parting blessing.
He kissed them, bade them farewell, and, laying his cold
hands upon their heads, commended them to their heavenly
Father for protection. His companion then asked him if his
way was clear. Ina whisper, he replied, ‘*‘ All is right; God is
my rock, I trust in the atonement.’’ Looking up to his physi-
cian, he said, ‘‘If I am to die to-night it will be a solemn hour,
but Idie in peace with God, and all mankind.”’ At a later
period, looking at his sorrowing companion, he said, ‘‘O, my
dear, weep not for me! I shall soon be at home, I am almost
over the stormy banks, we shall be parted but a little while,
we will soon meet in our Father’s kingdom to separate no more.”
Just before he took his flight from earth, she asked him if
Jesus was precious. He immediately replied, ‘‘Oh, yes! Jesus
is precious, precious, precious.’’ And thus, at five o’clock, on
Sabbath morning, January 6th, 1850, he fell asleep in the arms
of that Jesus whom to the very last he found so precious to his
soul, leaving, in this valley of tears, a widow and three children
to mourn his loss.

Brother Lanning was a man of great natural diffidence, and
of retiring habits. He was, therefore, easily embarrassed,
either publicly or privately, in the presence of strangers, and
yet, of such strength of mind, that when he had carefully ex-
amined a subject, was fearless, even to boldness, in its presenta-
tion. He was capable of great mental: efforts, and in Sussex
County, during the second year of his ministry, waxed so
mighty in controversy, that strong men of opposing theological
views, feared to enter the arena with him, though publicly in-
RICHARD LANNING. 161

vited so todo. Buta frail body prevented much mental toil, and
when the immediate occasion, which called forth his energies,
had passed away, he would shrink from view almost with the
timidity of a child.

He was an excellent preacher. His sermons abounded in
rich thought, manly argument, and appropriate illustration.
He instructed and profited his hearers. His, too, was a blessed
experience—he lived well, and died well.

“Oh! may we all like him believe,
And keep the faith and win the prize;
Father prepare and then receive
Our hallowed spirits to the skies,
To chant with all our friends above,
Thy glorious, everlasting love.”

il
162 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

REY. WILLIAM R. ROGERS.

“How sweetly flowed the gospel sound,

From lips of gentleness and grace,

While quiet listeners gathered round.
And joy and reverence filled the plaee.”

Witiram Reapine Rogers, was born at Pemberton, Bur-
lington County, N. J., on the 20th of September, 1817. His
parents, James and Mary Rogers, were members of the M. E.
Church, and brought up their son in the fear of the Lord, who
at the early age of twelve years, gave his heart to God, and be-
came an experimental Christian.

From the commencement of his religious life, his piety was
deep and ardent, which, together with the natural amiability of
his disposition, arrested the attention of the Church, and drew
forth predictions that he would be called to the work of a gospel
minister. Soon, it was found his mind was laboring with con-
victions of duty in that direction, and these predictions were full-
filled. But never, perhaps, was a young man more timid, or
distrustful of his own abilities, called to that important work ;
and, but for the stern conviction, ‘‘ Woe is me if I preach not
the gospel,’ it is very certain he never would have attempted
to lift up his voice in public: and when he did consent to do so,
it was with the utmost fearfulness and trembling.

In 1834, his father resided at Medford, and Rev. Abraham
Owen had charge of the circuit. William, who was now about
seventeen years old, was at school in Philadelphia, but, spend-
ing his vacations at home, would frequently, during these times
accompany the preacher in charge to his appointments around
the circuit; but it was only after much solicitation that he
could be induced to take even the smallest part in the public ex-

i
WILLIAM R. ROGERS. 163

ercises. Finally, however, Brother Owen succeeded in getting
him to deliver his first exhortation.

Three years after this, in 1837, Rev. T. Neal, Presiding Elder
of Camden District, called him to fill a vacancy on Salem Circuit,
with Rey. Charles T. Ford, preacher in charge. While on this
circuit, his natural timidity, and strong tendency to doubt and
discouragement, so nearly overcame him, that he was on the
point of giving up the work, to which God had evidently called:
him. He and his colleague were holding an extra meeting.
Brother Rogers had preached, and urged upon the impenitent
the importance of a speedy return to God. But after the
united efforts of Brother Ford and himself, there being no signs
of contrition anywhere in the congregation, he concluded pro-
bably it was owing to him—that he stood in the way, or was
not an acceptable ambassador for Christ; and he then and there
decided to quit the field. With such decision in his mind, he
was walking gloomily to his lodgings. It had been raining, and
was a dismally dark night, so dark that objects could not be dis-
tinguished. Suddenly he came up close to two persons who
were talking about the meeting, and overheard one of them say,
‘Well, no one ever before made me feel as I did to-night when
that young preacher was talking. Had he continued much
longer, it would have overcome me. I shall attend the meeting
to-morrow night, and have decided to give up my wicked ways
and lead a new life.’’ His companion agreed to unite with him.
This conversation, uttered providentially, it would seem, in the
hearing of Brother Rogers, gave a new impulse to his drooping
energies, and, on the wings of faith and hope, he rose high
above all his discouragements. The next evening, true to their
word, these men presented themselves at the altar upon the first
invitation, and in due time were hopefully converted. They
had been leaders in sin, and their changed lives influenced many
others. But for this timely encouragement, Brother Rogers
often said, he knew not what would have been his future course.

Becoming more established in his views and feelings, he con-
sented to continue his work as a gospel minister, and in 1838,
was received on trial by the New Jersey Conference, and ap-
pointed to New Germantown Circuit, with Rev. G. F. Brown.
164 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

He was then appointed successively to Elizabethtown and
Elizabethport, Crosswicks Circuit, Lambertville Mission, and
Key Port Circuit. At the conclusion of his labors on the
last named charge, he was married to Miss Sarah McGalliard.

He was then appointed to Cape May Circuit, and he and his
young wife went to their work with joyful hearts. But a few
months passed, however, before sorrow darkened his peaceful
‘home, and the wife of his bosom was borne away by death.
Soon after this, he and the writer, who had a little while before
passed through a similar bereavement, enjoyed frequent and
intimate communion with each other. Ishall never forget the
pious and joyful feelings with which he looked forward to the
recognition and reunion of loved ones who had left us for the
spirit world. In the silence of the midnight, he would often
say, ‘‘O Brother, I hear their voices now; I see them by an
eye of faith, they bid us come ;’’ and all seemed to his faith so
real, that he enjoyed it, as if it had already taken place.

In 1844, he was appointed to Cumberland Circuit, with Rev.
D. Duffel, and in 1845, with Rev. 8S. Townsend to Salem Circuit.
Towards the close of the last named year, he was married to
Miss Margaret Bullic, and his sensitive heart found comfort in
the sympathy of another fond companion.’

The following two years he wason Moorestown Circuit. Rev.
T. G. Stewart and J. I. Morrow were his colleagues the first
year, and Rev. Z. Gaskill, the second.

His last appointment in 1848-49, was New Egypt, where he
ceased to work and live. The Sabbath before he died, he
preached with great power, for one hour and a quarter, at
Goshen church, from the text, ‘‘ As Moses lifted up the serpent
in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up, that
whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal
life.’’ John iii. 14, 15.

The discourse was remarkable, and so unlike anything the
people had heard from him before, that many thought, and
some said, it would be his last sermon. And so it proved.

For months, his system had been much enfeebled by a com-
plication of diseases. He had been quite ill for some days
previous to preaching the sermon just referred to, but neverthe-
less, he concluded on the following Monday morning, to ride over
WILLIAM R. ROGERS. 165

to his father’s, at Mount Holly, hoping the change might bene-
fit him. He was so weak that he had to be assisted to and from
his carriage, and immediately on his arrival, went to his chamber,
which he never left alive. The next Saturday morning, with
the assistance of his wife, he walked from his bed to the window,
and sat for a short time listening to music on the street. While
sitting there he remarked, ‘‘ The music of this world is nothing
compared to that of heaven, which I hope soon to hear.’’ He
sank rapidly, and the next day, seemed to have a presentiment
of his approaching dissolution, notwithstanding the encourage-
ments given by his family, and physician. His father entering
his room, said to him, ‘‘T will get some one to fill your appoint-
ments to-day.’’ He answered, ‘‘ Yes, and hereafter my place
must be supplied, I shall preach no more, my work is done;
how thankful I am that I didnot defer a preparation for death,
to a dying hour. A sick-bed isa poor place to get ready to die.”’
His father, trying to encourage him, remarked, ‘‘The doctor
thinks you are only suffering from debility now, and will soon be
better.’”’ ‘‘Oh no,”’ he replied emphatically, ‘‘ My work ts done.
But I would like to preach one more sermon.’ His father
asked him, ‘‘ What subject he would select.’ Hesaid, ‘‘ The in-
consistency of professing Christians. Oh, how the thought of it
presses upon me now.”’

About two o'clock, on the following morning, Sept. 10th,
1849, he was taken with a heavy chill, and soon became insensi-
ble. A few hours after, without a struggle or a groan, his meek
and quiet spirit passed to its eternal rest.

“So fades a summer cloud away:
So sinks the gale when storms are o’er;
So gently shuts the eye of day ;
So dies a wave along the shore.”

“Tf Christian character receives its perfection in becoming
‘like unto a little child,’ Brother Rogers possessed it ; for added
to all his other excellencies, he was amiably simple. His love
was unabating, and his ministry, if not like a Boanerges, cer-
tainly resembled that of an ‘Apollos.’’ \

He had delicate and refined sensibilities, and all his tastes
were elevated.
166 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

With a constitution naturally frail, he possessed a lovely mind,
from which were darting forth occasionally, such beams of
light and brilliancy, as only come from off the throne of God.
These gave to his preaching an attractiveness which all ac-
knowledged. His soul too, had deep and earnest breathings for
a closer walk with God, and as he found the bliss, urged others
to its enjoyment.

The following sentence, uttered with great fervency and pathos,
while addressing believers at a camp-meeting, shows his views
of the extent and blessedness of our privileges in Christ. ‘There
are many green spots in the fields of Christian experience, upon
which the eye of our faith hath not yet rested.’’ On these de-
lightful spots he desired his own faith and vision to rest. And
it is a pleasing thought to the Christian, that however extensive
may be the range of his spiritual vision, and however lovely the
objects his faith unfolds to view, there are ranges more extensive
and objects still more lovely which his spiritual perception may
comprehend and enjoy. In such exercises his soul greatly de-
lighted. But in the temple where he now worships, these views,
blessed and ennobling as they were, are exchanged for those
more elevated and sublime. The vision is no longer clouded.
Glory has thrown off its last veil, and the soul is changed into
the same image, from glory to glory. The eye now rests on
greener spots than those for which he longed on earth,

“Where hope in full fruition dies,
And faith is lost in sight.”

There have been few more artless, innocent or sweeter-spirited
men. He was loved by all. In Lambertville, where the writer
labored a few years after him, was an aged, and highly-esteemed
Presbyterian minister, who often spoke of his excellencies in the
strongest terms. We seldom met, that he didnot ask, ‘‘ Where
and how is Brother Rogers?’’ To him, to all, we may now say,
‘He is well, for he lives with God, and his home is in heaven.

“Sin for ever left behind him,
Earthly visions cease to blind him,
Fleshly fetters cease to bind him;

Heaven, sweet heaven at last.”
CHARLES T. FORD. 167

REV, CHARLES T. FORD.

“ Beautiful being, thou art come in love,
With gentle gales from the world above,
Breathing of pureness, breathing of bliss,
Bearing our spirits away from this
To the better thoughts, to the brighter skies,
~ Where heaven’s eternal sunshine lies ;
Winning our hearts with a blessed guile,
With thy holy look and thy saintly smile.”

THERE is much of beauty even ina fallen world. The sun as
he throws his gorgeous beams upon the morning sky, or paints
the smallest flower with mellow hues—the queenly moon, pour-
ing her silver floods upon the sleeping earth—and all the spark-
ling stars, are beautiful. The rose, too, has its brilliant dyes,
and the lily a stainless purity. Even the blade of grass is beau-
tiful in perfection. The lowly vale unfolds itself in dreamy
quietude, while the mountains rise in wild sublimity towards the
skies. The ocean in calm or storm is beautifully grand. But
the loveliest thing beneath the sun is a blood-washed human
spirit, redeemed through Christ, and walking with God in white.
This is the concentration of moral glory, the beauty of holiness,
the counterpart of God.

“ Goodness is beauty in its best estate.”

Such goodness and such beauty it is our privilege to portray
in the meek and holy life of Rev. Charles T. Ford of blessed
memory.

He was the second son of Charles T. and Mary Ford, and
born at North East, Cecil Co., Md., June 23, 1811. Both
father and mother were devout members of the Methodist Epis-
copal Church.
168 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

One year after his father’s death, Charles wrote as follows:
‘‘One year has been added to the ages past since my beloved and
most excellent father departed this life. He died in his sixtieth
year. His piety was deep and uniform, and secured the confi-
dence of all who knew him. For many years he filled the re-
sponsible offices of Trustee, Steward, and class-leader, and con-
tinued to do so up to the period of his death. He was an affec-
tionate husband, a tender parent, and a good master. He
brought up his children in the fear of the Lord, and had the
unspeakable happiness of seeing them all embrace a Saviour’s
love. Like his divine Master, he was made perfect through suf-
fering, and was then received into the joy of his Lord. In his
death I feel that one of the strongest ties to earth has been sev-
ered. I can hardly survive his loss. Still I can sing,

‘A while in flesh disjoined,
Our friends that went before

We soon in Paradise shall find,
And meet to part no more.

In yon thrice happy ,seat
Waiting for us they are,

And thou shalt there a husband meet,
And I a parent there.’ ”

Charles, though naturally amiable, was early impressed with
the fact that he was a sinner, and needed the entire renewal of
his nature. In accordance with these convictions, on the 16th
of August, when only a little past fifteen years of age, he bowed
at the foot of the cross, and found salvation through the blood
of the Lamb.

He immediately united with the church, an example which
all who find the Lord should follow, if they would retain the evi-
dence of their acceptance with God, or increase in the knowledge
of his ways. .

The light upon his pathway shone brighter and brighter, until
his soul was all glowing with glory.

The eye of the Church was on him. The meekness of his
spirit, the gentleness of his manners, the humility of his daily
walk, the purity of his life, and his untiring zeal in his Master’s
cause, were matters not only of general observation, but of uni-
CHARLES T. FORD. 169

versul commendation. Ina little over a year from his conver-
sion, a paper, yet in excellent preservation, of which the follow-
ing isa copy, was handed him:

“This is to certify that Charles Ford is authorized to exhort in our So-
ciety at North East, Strasburg Circuit, being satisfied with his grace, gifts,
and usefulness. Henry Boerum.

Done in the Society, this 23d day of December, 1827.”

From this time his zeal became, if possible, still more ardent,
burning like a steady flame, but so intense that many of his
friends predicted that a few years would utterly destroy his phy-
sical energies, and he be brought to a premature grave.

Still he went on; and though a stripling of only seventeen
years old, would often walk, after the labors of the day, from
three to eight miles, holding meetings, and endeavoring as God
gave him the ability to lead sinners to the cross.

He was licensed to preach in 1829. Soon after he was sent to
fill a vacancy on the Harford Circuit, Baltimore Conference, as
an assistant to Rev. J. Poisal, for whom he afterwards retained
the warmest feelings of friendship. He remained on this field
until the session of the Philadelphia Annual Conference, in the
spring of 1830, when he joined that body. His first appoint-
ment was to Dauphin Circuit, Pa. His subsequent fields of la-
bor were in New Jersey, viz., Burlington and Pemberton Cir-
cuits, Somerset Mission, Pemberton and Mt. Holly Stations, Sa-
lem Circuit, Sharpstown and Woodstown Station, and finally in
1841—44, Presiding Elder on Camden District.

He was ordained a deacon at Wilmington, Del., on the 15th
day of April, 1832, by Bishop Hedding, and an elder at Phila-
delphia, on the 13th day of April, 1834, by Bishop Andrew.

In all his fields of Jabor he was a useful and greatly-beloved
minister of the Lord Jesus.

While engaged in the faithful performance of his duties as a
Presiding Elder on the Camden District, his health failed, so
that after much prayer and consultation with friends whose
judgment he esteemed, he concluded in the spring of 1845 to
ask for a supernumerary relation. The Conference readily, but
sorrowfully, granted his request.
\

170 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

He immediately removed his family to North East, where he
lived in the midst of relatives and friends, useful and honored,
until October 20th, 1849, when he sweetly fell asleep in Jesus.

Such is a brief outline of the life of a precious saint of God.
But in all this life there is so much of the morally beautiful that
we may linger and look, admire and be profited. To the Chris-
tian eye and heart there was much to admire and imitate in his
EXPERIENCE.

He was a devout and holy man. From the beginning the
constant and intense aspirations of his heart were for the closest
possible walk with God. Nothing satisfied his ardent soul but
divine communion and fellowship. He fixed his eye upon the
high places of privilege, and rested not until his feet stood on
the very summit of the mount of vision, and then, as he beheld
the unbounded glory, longed to launch into the divine im-
mensity.

A friend says in a letter, ‘‘I was present at the camp-meeting
at which he was converted: the change was one of great power.
I was also present a few months after when he received the
blessing of entire sanctification. I have seen many as they pro-
fessed to secure this great blessing, but have never’ witnessed
any case so remarkable as his. Heaven beamed from his coun-
tenance, and his soul was full. At that moment he received his
call to preach. Looking at his sister, he exclaimed with great
sweetness and solemnity, ‘‘Oh, I shall have to leave you and go
forth to preach the gospel of my blessed Lord!’’ His constant
theme everywhere was perfect holiness, through the cross of
Christ.

In a letter to his beloved wife, he says, ‘‘I thank the Lord
for all his benefits towards me, particularly for the comforts of
his love. True, I have made but little proficiency in the divine
life, and my infirmities are great, yet the Lord allows me to ap-
proach him. But oh, I sigh to be implunged and inwrapt in
the bottomless abyss of love. At times I am privileged to stand
upon the mount, and by faith behold the glories of the heavenly
world, and while contemplating the nature of its felicity, so per-
fect and eternal, I am filled with rapture, and exclaim, ‘I am
entering into life, eternal life.’’ Oh, my dear C. let us hasten to
CHARLES T. FORD. 171

the coming of the Lord, by following him fully, and by passing
through holiness to glory !”’

His thoughts were continually upon heavenly things. The
last letter he ever wrote to his wife was while she was on a
brief visit at Burlington, N. J. A part of it is as follows:—

“Norra Hast, May 25, 1849.
‘*My Drar CatHarine:—The season has advanced very ra-
pidly since you left. The fields and grass are now clad in their
vernal beauty, and the flowers begin to exhale their grateful
fragrance, so that we are frequently reminded of that bright and
happier world,

‘Where all things are pleasant,
And the fields growing green,

And the parting of Christians
Shall never be seen.’

‘“May we aspire with new vigor and perseverance to those
plains of light where God shall wipe away all tears, and there
shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, neither shall
there be any more pain. Farewell in Him who is the resurrec-
tion and the life, and in whom [ trust our lives are mutually
hid. Yours affectionately,

CTS Re

His spiritual solicitudes so deep and constant were the means
of bringing his soul, as far as is the privilege of mortals, into all
the fullness of the blessing of the gospel of Christ. His path-
way shone brighter and brighter, until his whole life was like a
luminous sun amidst the surrounding gloom and darkness of
sin. But beautifully bright as was his whole example, and
majestically as he moved amongst the children of men, he seemed
to be entirely unconscious of all, and was as humble as a little
child. Possessing such a spirit, and enjoying such an experi-
ence, as might be expected, he was wonderfully powerful in
PRAYER.

In this holy exercise his talents were of an extraordinary
character. There was in his language such clearness, compre-
hension, and appropriateness, as is rarely equaled, perhaps
172 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

never excelled. Overmastering faith and power, and pathos ac-
companied all his petitions, and all felt that his prayers took
hold of the right arm of Jehovah’s power. Answers to these
prayers generally came in copious showers, sometimes in over-
whelming floods. The church was baptized under their influ-
ence, and from the abounding consolations, the people wept and
praised the Lord.

On a certain occasion he was engaged in family devotion at
the house of a relative in Burlington, N. J. His soul was unu-
sually exercised. He was drawn out of self and into God.
Salvation descended. God was present; glory filled the house.
For a long while the whole family seemed transfixed to the
floor, helpless and speechless :—

“A solemn awe that dared not move,
And all the silent heaven of love.”

When appointed Presiding Elder, in 1841, he did not reach
home, after the adjournment of Conference, until ten o'clock,
P. M.

He met his wife with a full heart, and, after saluting her with
an affectionate kiss, she asked where they were appointed, but
he was so overcome with a sense of his entire unfitness for the
work, that, unable to answer, he fell upon his knees by the bed-
side, and remained in that position, supplicating grace and
strength, until one o’clock in the morning. Arising, he said,
“The work is too great, I cannot perform it.’’ But these
three hours of .prayer were not in vain. Strength and grace
were given, and, though he was young for such an office, yet he
was a successful and most saintly Presiding Elder.

At one of his quarterly visitations on Saturday afternoon, he
became greatly interested. The congregation was not large, but
he felt their spiritual wants were many. He applied to God,
the inexhaustible and eternal fountain. Soon the cloud arose
from the boundless sea—it spread over the sky—then descended,
first in drops, then in showers, then in inundating floods, until
the whole house became so filled with the glory of God, that,
for half an hour, the congregation remained moveless upon their
knees. His prayers will never be forgotten.
CHARLES T. FORD. \ 173

He was also a godly MINISTER.

He commenced in great earnestness. When only an exhorter
he attended a camp-meeting in a strange neighborhood. His
unremitting labors and powerful prayers arrested attention.
But he seemed to be alone. There was no tent or company
where he had a home. One day there was a little respite from
public exercises, and the people were at dinner.

Young Ford was sitting alone on one of the rude seats in the
circle of tents, engaged in meditation and silent prayer. A couple
of brethren sitting at their noon-day meal, observed him, and
spoke of his untiring zeal for God. Instantly it flashed upon
their minds, perhaps he had nothing to eat. They immediately
approached, and asked if he had dined.

“No,” he meekly answered, ‘‘ Nor have I had any breakfast.”’

‘“No breakfast !’’ they responded with surprise; ‘‘ how is it
you do not eat?”

‘*T do when I am invited,’’ was his calm reply, ‘‘ but when I
am not, I work on for God the best I can.”

In his regular ministry, all who saw and heard him, felt that
he was God’s ambassador. Clear, chaste, plain, and practical
in his expositions, his whole manner and appearance was com-
manding and dignified, but at the same time sweetly and in-
tensely solemn. Even the most careless felt they were in the
presence of a man of God, while his tender and touching ap-
peals awed them to silence or melted them to tears.

To the Church he was a son of consolation. The blessed pro-
mises of the gospel were clothed with new beauty as they fell
from his lips, and were often effectual in awakening fresh cou-
rage in the minds of the timid, or inspiring hope in the hearts
of the desponding.

His zeal was unmeasured, for the love of Christ constrained
him. This was evident from the first, and the ruling passion
of his heart was,—

“To tell to sinners round,
What a dear Saviour he had found.”

The Sabbath he regarded as belonging in a very peculiar sense
to God alone. After family-prayers on that day, he seldom
174 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

spoke to any one; so impressed was he with the greatness of
the work he had to do, that he took no notice of things around
him. From the house to the church, and returning, he walked
in silence. His wife remarks, ‘‘I became so accustomed to this,
that at such times I never asked a question or made an observa-
tion.”’

It was no uncommon thing for him to remain upon his knees,
in deep devotion, till long after the midnight hour, and the
place would sometimes become so solemn, and the awe so great,
that words could not describe it.

On one occasion, he had prepared his subject for the Sabbath,
as usual. But at ten o’clock, on Saturday night, it was all taken
from him. From that hour, until twelve, he was in an agony
of prayer. He retired to rest with his mind in darkness. In
the morning a new subject was presented to him. He preached
with uncommon liberty, and a great and glorious revival of reli-
gion followed.

His zeal knew no abatement as his years increased, but, like
a consuming fire, continued to burn within him.

When, through failing health, he was compelled to desist
from the active work of the ministry, his spirit was almost
crushed, He felt that not to work for God was not to live. He
seemed to be unconscious of the fact that his whole life, though
a silent, was, nevertheless, a sermon of marked and marvelous
power.

A member of the society of Friends, who lived next door to
him in Salem, N.-J., said, ‘‘Charles Ford preaches all the
time, even when he feeds his horse or puts him to the carriage.”’

It was so. His daily example was like a perpetual declaration
from the mouth of God, ‘‘ Be ye holy.”’

Even after he gave up his work in connection with the Con-
ference, he visited the sick, prayed and preached as often, and,
in the judgment of his best friends, sometimes much oftener,
than his health would justify.

One of the most powerful sermons of his whole ministry was
preached at Beacon Hill Camp-meeting, Md., while he was a
supernumerary at North Hast, only a few months before his
death.
CHARLES T. FORD. 175

His theme was the richness and fullness of the gospel feast.
The word was accompanied with wonderful power, and while
his own soul, and the souls of the people, were feasting upon
the rich banquet, his expansive vision took in the myriads who
were starving for the bread of life, and then referring to the in-
strumentalities employed for their relief, his impassioned soul
cried out, ‘‘Oh, that the Church, and all the ministers were
alive to their duty, and would put forth a more vigorous and
powerful effort, that the whole world might become partakers
of the blessings of salvation |”’

His last sermon was preached at the Brick Meeting House, a
few miles from North East, about one month before he closed
his earthly pilgrimage, from, ‘‘ Behold, I lay in Zion for a foun-
dation, astone, a tried stone, a precious corner-stone, a sure foun-
dation; he that believeth shall not make haste.’’ Isaiah
xxviii. 16.

God was pleased to own this last effort of his servant ina
most. blessed manner. He had extraordinary clearness of per-
ception, together with great power of utterance, and the result
was glorious beyond description.

In his last sickness he often referred to this subject, and de-
lighted to rest on Christ as his sure foundation.

As aman and minister he was justly held in high esteem,
and yet the applause of earth only brought out more conspicu-
ously his HUMILITY AND GENTLENESS.

The humility of his life was as marked as his gentleness was
sweet and attractive. Towards his superiors he was reverential ;
to his equals kind and affectionate; over the failings of men he
threw the broad mantle of his fervent charity, and while he
dealt with his opponents faithfully and fearlessly, it was, at the
same time, in tenderness and love. The force of these last re-
marks may be seen by a few introductory sentiments affixed to a
sermon which circumstances required him to preach on the sub-
ject of Christian baptism.

His text was 1 Corinthians, x. 2, ‘‘ And were all baptized
unto Moses in the cloud and in the sea.’’ He then says,

‘Before entering upon the merits of the subject, I wish to
premise a little. rst, It has ever been my desire to live in
176 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

peace and love with all Christian people; and in accordance
with this desire, I have uniformly invited all who love our Lord
Jesus Christ to the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, the true
sign of Christian communion. I have also, in my preaching,
purposely avoided all controversy on doctrinal points, excepting
when the nature of the subject and the wants of the congrega-
tion required. it, and then I have endeavored to do it in the
spirit of love and meekness, for the defence of the truth, and
not for victory. But while I have been endeavoring to follow
peace with all men, the tocsin of war has been sounded, and we
have been challenged to the conflict.

Secondly. The great noise and bold assertions which have of
late been made on the subject of baptism, and the undue impor-
tance which has been attached to the mode of its administration,
are calculated to unsettle and perplex the mind of the young and
inexperienced, and give rise to unprofitable reasonings, and-
unstable conduct, which may result in the return of some to sin
and folly, or, in the bereavement of our church, by proselyting,
of some of her lawful children.

These things have led me to interpose, lest any should be
spoiled ‘‘ after the tradition of men, and not after Christ.’’

‘* Having thus premised, we proceed to the discussion of the
subject.’’

How lovely were these traits of character! And while they
shone out so conspicuously in all his public walks, it is pleasant to
know that their lustre was equally bright and holy in all private
ways and relationships.

As a husband, his affection was of that fervent and fixed
character, which arises from all that is noble in man, tender in
nature, and sanctified in grace.

The tenderness of his paternal feelings may be gathered from
an incidental allusion in a letter to his wife, written at the Cum-
berland camp-meeting, Aug. 12th, 1843.

‘“We have had a very excellent camp-meeting thus far.
There are but few preachers with us, but they are in the spirit of
their holy calling, and have preached with great power. Profes-
sors have been quickened, the careless have been aroused, a num-
ber have already been converted, and the good work appears to be
CHARLES T. FORD. 177

extending greatly. Last night was atime of great power. I
have enjoyed the meetings from the beginning, but the recollec-
tions of the past awaken the sorrows of a wounded heart, and in
spirit I ery out, ‘ O my son, my son.’* This state of feeling is
only relieved by the hope of the resurrection. The day hasten-
eth when death shall be swallowed up in victory ; and those who
sleep in Jesus shall God bring with him. Then we shall meet
in the air, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away. Then we shall
see again our beloved Charles, and together praise our great
deliverer.
‘* Affectionately, your Husband.”

Though aman of the most tender affections, he was a man of
few words. This was true, even in his family, and with his best
friends. Sometimes his wife would urge him to talk, especially
when they had a good deal of company. His usual reply was,
‘“Tt is constantly impressed upon my mind, that for every idle
word I must give an account. I cannot talk, even for the enter-
tainment of company; you must do it; I will talk when it
is necessary.”’

At the polls, on a certain election day, his vote was challenged
by some hostile politician, on the ground, that he had not paid
his tax. He left the place, went to his house, procured his re-
ceipt, returned to the polls, deposited his vote, passing through
the whole transaction, without uttering a single word.

But this silent and solemn deportment gave to him at home
and abroad, in the church and in the world, an influence almost
unbounded. His dignified and measured walk was a silent, yet
irresistible rebuke to sin, and at the same time an inspiration to
the child of God.

Christians of his own, and other denominations, looked upon
him as a model man.

The writer has traveled over much of the ground where he
labored for years. Brother Ford was often a subject of conversa--
tion. But before, and after his death, there was everywhere,
with young and old, within and without the church, but one
sentiment.

= Referring to his eldest son, who died in 1842.:
12
178 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

“None knew him but to love him,
Or named him but in praise.”

It is sometimes a matter of grief that such a man should ever
die, and yet, it is often the case, that they are amongst the earliest
called. Beautiful therefore as was the light of his holy example,
we must now contemplate his CLOSING SCENES,

The good man dies well. ‘‘ Thanks be unto God, who giveth
us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”’

His last sickness was bilious dysentery, superinduced as his
friends believed, by over exertion in attending the funeral of a
person who died of that disease.

It immediately assumed an unparalleled violence, and his suffer-
ings were intense. His recovery was soon considered doubtful.
With marked composure he at once commenced the arrange-
ment of his temporal affairs.

‘*T feel,’ said he, ‘‘that my work is ended, and the Lord no
longer needs my poor services in his church below.’’ From the
very commencement, his chamber became a privileged place—
the house of God—the very gate of heaven. Many flocked to
the house to behold and enjoy the abounding glory. Physicians
forbid their entrance, but the anxiety was so great, that it was
often difficult to prevent it.

To his mother, he said, ‘‘ Dear mother, you will have to bury
another of your family before you go home, but your loss will
be my infinite and eternal gain. My hope is founded on Jesus,
the rock of my salvation. If I go before you, I shall weleome
you with shoutings and songs of salvation as you enter the
skies.’’

In his communications with his beloved companion, there were
many tender utterances, such as a heart overflowing with love
alone can give. Looking upon her with unutterable affection,
he said, ‘‘ You, my beloved wife [know are sincere. Be faithful.
God will watch over you. You have leaned upon me, a poor
worm of the dust. Jam taken away, that you may lean more
implicitly upon the Saviour. Look to him. He will more than
fill the void my absence will create. Hindeavor to train up the
children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. Attend to
family prayers ; and the Lord will sustain you.”’
CHARLES T. FORD. 179

Just before the final hour he said to her, ‘‘ Do you think T am
dying?’ With a choked utterance, she answered in the affirma-
tive. ‘‘Qh,”’ said he, ‘‘how kind and faithful you have been to
the very last !’? ‘‘May the Lord reward you.’ Then clasping
her to his bosom, imparted the last fond farewell kiss upon her
brow, saying, ‘‘ We part for a little while, but we shall be united
again in heaven forever.”’

His daughter Eliza had been absent; on her return, he said,
‘‘Farewell, dear Eliza, I had not expected to have seen you
again. But J am still on these mortal shores. This day I ex-
pect will introduce me to the company above. How it rejoices
you father, that you have given your heart to the Saviour in the
days of your youth. Be-faithful. Though your father may die,
it is but the narrow stream of death that separates us; soon,
very soon, you will join your Pa, in that happy country where
farewell words are never uttered. *

Speaking to his son Budd, he said, ‘‘ My dear son, your father
is about to be taken from you. Strive to attend to the great
work of salvation. Do not hesitate to attach yourself immedi-
ately to the church: and if you are good and faithful, you may
be called to fill the station your Pa has vacated.”’

Counseling his youngest son Stephen, he said, ‘‘Be a good
boy, obey your mother, serve the Lord, and, like Stephen of old,
may you be filled with the Holy Ghost.”

Addressing his brothers Stephen and John, he gave the ten-
derest counsels concerning his wife and aged mother. When
they had promised to do what they could, he said, ‘‘ I know you
will.’’ Then placing his dying hands upon their heads, he said,
“*May Benjamin’s portion be yours. May you be blessed in
your basket and in your store. May prosperity attend you in
this world, and in the world to come eternal lifé.’’ The scene
resembled that of the dying Jacob pronouncing a blessing upon
his several sons. ‘I'rue, it was not a father’s blessing, but that
which was scarcely less sacred, the benedictions of a sainted bro-
ther.

* In just one month, Eliza passed away from earth, and no doubt joined
her father in the skies.
180 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

To an unconverted person who approached his bed and in-
quired how he was, he answered, “‘ Nearing the haven of eter-
nal repose, with the city just in view. I stand upon the heights,
beholding the glory, and feel that my entrance is sure. The re-
ligion I have recommended to others, is now sustaining me.”’
Sometimes, after he had spoken in these hallowed strains, re-
flections of the glory he was so fondly anticipating would light
up his attenuated features, until all radiant with bliss, his lips
would break forth in loftiest songs of praises.

Recovering partially from one of his frequent sinking turns,
he said, ‘‘ I thought I was nearly through the dark valley,—but
I feared no evil, Jesus was with me ;—up—up—my soul mounts
higher and higher, and soon will clap her glad wings and soar to
the dwelling-place of angels and of God.”

About this time, in addition to his previous difficulties, ty-
phoid fever seized him, and reduced him still lower than before.
But his spirit triumphed in God. After a restless night, as the
light of the morning sun broke in, he said, ‘‘ Glory to God,
there shall be no wearisome nights there,—the day that dawns
upon us shall know no close. Oh, it fills my soul with rapture
to think of the glories J am about to enter!’’

Two days before his death, such visions of glory burst upon
his view, that he exclaimed, ‘‘ Oh, can’t you sing of Jesus and
heaven?’’ Rev. A. Simpers and his brother John sang

“ And let this feeble body fail.”

As they reached the words—

“My soul shall quit this mournful vale,
And soar to worlds on high.”

his countenance glowed like the face of an angel, and though too
much exhausted to speak, the triumphant waving of his feeble
arms expressed that which language was too poor to do. When
the words—

“O what hath Jesus bought for me,”

were uttered, it seemed as if he had already entered the city, and
CHARLES T. FORD. 181

was wearing the crown and bearing the palm of victory. But
when the last verse was finished,—

“Let me find them all again
In that eternal day,”

supernatural strength was given, and he broke out in the most
rapturous strains, exclaiming, ‘Glory be unto God! I will
praise him; I have had many sore conflicts in my sickness, but
thanks be unto his precious name, through his redeeming blood,
He has given me the victory over my last foe. Oh, unite with
me to praise Him; call upon all the ends of the earth to praise
Him! Oh what a salvation is this; it flows from the very centre
of the throne of God! How deep and wide the stream! enough
to wash away the sins of all the world.’’ His strength was gone.
Pausing a little, he again resumed. ‘‘I shall soon have strength
to shout the praises of God in heaven ; in the resurrection morn-
ing this shattered frame shall rise, clad in immortal vigor. Oh,
I shall have strength then.’’ After a little, he waved his hand,
and looking as if gazing upon the innumerable company, he ex-
claimed, ‘‘ These are they who have come up through great tri-
bulation, and have washed their robes and made them white in
the blood of the Lamb.”’

The day before he died, he said, ‘‘I feel happier and happier
as I near the haven; do you not feel happy ?’’ he inquired.

The reply was, ‘‘ We cannot feel happy when we think of be-
ing separated from you.”’

‘Not feel happy,’’ said he, ‘‘to give me up to Jesus? O my
friends, weep not for me, all is well, all is well.”

A change was observed to come over him, and according to
his request, he was informed that he was probably dying. Said
he, ‘‘If this be death, it is sweet to die.

‘Jesus can make a dying-bed
Feel soft as downy pillows are.’

‘¢T am in the floods of death, but the Saviour is around, above,
and beneath me; I fear no evil.’”’ Awaking from a brief slum-
ber, he said, ‘‘ How sweet to die! death is a welcome messen-
182 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

ger.’’ Again he dozed. Awaking, he said, ‘‘ Pray, pray
mightily ; just as I was entering the promised rest, the enemy
was permitted to drive me back.”

In the last conflict Satan thrust sorely at him, but at half past
seven o’clock, on the morning of the 20th October, he waved his
hand in token of final victory, and his pure spirit entered into
rest.

“ Life’s labor done, as sinks the clay,—
Light from its load the spirit flies.
While heaven and earth combine to say,
How blest the righteous when he dies!”
DAVID BARTINE. 183

REV. DAVID BARTINE.

Tuis great and good man cannot easily be assigned to his true
position in Methodistic history. The remoteness of the period
in which he lived—the fact that he left but few private papers,
and kept no journal—the absorbed and uncommunicative nature
of the man, the disappearance in death of his cotemporaries
both in the ministry and society, make it impossible to collect
the facts which alone, could do justice to the man. Yet, living
at a period when the name of Methodist was a synonym for all
that was romantic, perilous, and self-sacrificing in religion, and
being of a stern, determined, and energetic character, it is certain
that his life was full of incidents, noble sacrifices, and glorious
successes, and his status is rightly given as among the giants of
those days.

He was born of reputable parentage in New Rochelle, West-
chester County, New York, on January 26, 1767.

His boyhood is without record except that, under the ministry
of Freeborn Garretson, he passed through the experience of the
despised Methodists, and connected himself with their society in
that place, where he remained an earnest and devoted member
until God and the church called him to the work of the ministry,
which he commenced by preaching with great acceptability and
power, from John xiv. 31: ‘‘ Arise, let us go hence."’ This, in
application to those times of itinerancy, which made its every
votary a homeless wanderer, was peculiarly appropriate, and
illustrated fairly the sentiment acted upon by all who entered
then upon the work of a traveling preacher, among the Metho-
dists.

This was before the days of Presiding Elders. There was no
intervening medium between the bishops and the preachers, by
which the inclinations and the wants of societies and preachers
184 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

could be jointly consulted. When the episcopacy wanted a
man it appealed at once to Azm to leave all and preach the gos-
pel. There were few places prepared to which they could be
sent, fewer still houses of worship, and scarcely any parsonages
either rented or owned by the societies in which their families
could be accommodated. Indeed, in many appointments there
were no houses where they could be sure of a welcome for a
single night, and many communities deemed it infamous to
harbor them at all. There were no pledges of specified salary,
four or five dollars on some occasions being the cash receipts of
a year,—they were allowed to remain but an average of three
months upon a circuit embracing a hundred miles, and on which
they preached once a month to the same congregation.

It was at this rough period of our history that Bishop Asbury,
attracted by the wonderful argumentative power of the youthful
Bartine, selected him for one of his assistants in the work of
spreading scriptural holiness over the land, In those days of
single-heartedness, if a man felt called of God to preach the
gospel, the appeal of the bishop was imperative, and, ‘‘ confer-
ring not with flesh and blood,’’ such a man left all and followed
him, and young Bartine, though distrustful of his ability, and
inexperience in the work, was no exception to the noble rule.

His first appointment was with Benjamin Abbot, the Metho-
distic Boanerges, on Salem Circuit, in New Jersey. He arrived
at the place while Abbot was holding one of his peculiar meet-
ings, in which spiritual thunderings and lightnings were thrill-
ing all the people and prostrating them by scores. At first he
was simply startled by these exercises—then he began to fear
that the preacher must be some escaped maniac, and at last, fairly
frightened, he nearly concluded to run away. Abbot alludes to
the case in his book, although he does not give the name of the
preacher. Yet, this same young man afterwards entered with
both zeal and zest into this class of exercises, although his sin-
gularly calm and self-possessed temperament never would have
originated them. He saw that they were from God and led to
God, and that fact was sufficient to sweep away all prejudices
regarding them.

His earlier labors were intensely severe. In Dr. Peck’s ‘‘ His-
DAVID BARTINE. 185

tory of Methodism in northern New York,” reference is made
to his traveling and preaching there, years before the populous
towns which now dot its surface had anything beyond a name.
His first circuit here, which was the first appointment following
his reception into the Conference, was ‘‘Herkimer,’’ and em-
braced all that part of the State of New York, west of Albany,
and was bounded northward only by Canada. His work here
was to preach, form circuits, and prepare the ground for perma-
nent occupancy. The report made to the Conference at the
close of the year’s labor gave proof that although an extremely
young man, yet the bishop had exercised wise judgment in the
selection of his agent for the important and responsible enter-
prise, and it is no doubt largely owing to his wise and compre-
hensive arrangements, that the Methodism of that region has
evinced so solid and aggressive a character in its steady and
thorough advancement. In 1794 he was appointed to Albany,
taking charge also of a large portion of contiguous territory,
which was then the custom when a minister was appointed toa
city. In 1795 he traveled Delaware. 1796 he labored in Tren-
ton Circuit, and contributed largely by the use of his splendid
argumentative power, in compelling the enemies of Methodism
to respect her.

During all the period of his ministry in New Jersey, the
Churches of the most ultra Calvinistic stamp were dominant in
its middle and northern parts, while the coldest Quakerism held
the lower portion. However they might differ in other matters
they agreed in paying but scanty respect to the invaders of what
they deemed their peculiar domain. Among communities so con-
stituted, his style of address was a tower of strength. His wit
was caustic and unsparing, his judgment clear and penetrating,
his powers of perception comprehensive and discriminating, and
his memory astonishingly retentive. Few persons could resist
the power of his cold steel-like arguments. Never discomposed,
never angry, never careless, watching for the slightest mistake
on the part of his adversary, and pressing with terrible power
all its consequences upon him, never allowing him to escape, but
pitilessly pursuing his arguments to their remotest possibilities ;
his name became a terror to them over all the country. Bible
186 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

in hand, he would enter a store, and by his caustic remarks would
soon force a controversy upon a Hicksite Quaker. It would be
maintained by him with skill and power. Passages from the
word would be hurled like shot and shell at his opponents, the
arguments of the Hicksite would be held up in the shortest,
clearest, and most ridiculous forms; his own views would be
presented with the most majestic solemnity, and he, himself,
quiet and unexcited, exhibiting neither smiles nor passion, would
talk on until he cleared the ground of his adversary, and left
his hearers, often, convinced of the truth of his views, and im-
pressed with their power, and they would frequently afterwards
be found among the attendants upon his ministry. Such a man
enforced respect toward the denomination he represented, and
successfully made the fear of an attack, the basis upon which he
founded his demands for consideration to his Church, and in the
region of Trenton his ministry was eminently successful in this
regard.

In 1797 he traveled Milford Circuit, where the same charac-
teristics were made a blessing to the feeble and despised socie-
ties. In 1798 he labored in the same section on Flanders, with
the same results. In 1799 he was removed to Elizabethtown, a
strong centre of Calvinistic influence, where he taught the
Methodist people the strong arguments which would enable
them to give a reason for the faith that was within them, and
give that reason in such shapes that discomfiture would be im-
possible.

* * * % *

While stationed here, he made an occasional visit to the city of
Newark, and had the honor of: forming the first class in that in-
fluential place, a city which now contains twelve Methodist
Churches, some of them magnificent and costly, and nearly
three thousand members. This fact was distinctly remembered
by old Father Baldwin and Mother Bonsel, names both vene-
rated and loved by Newark Methodism; and Pierson’s Directory
of the City of Newark, a valuable and accurate statistical work,
ascribes to him that honor. If further proof were needed,
the writer of this sketch heard him publicly declare it in a ser-
mon preached in the Halsey Street—the mother-church—during
a session of the Conference in that city.
DAVID BARTINE. 187

In 1800, he went to Freehold, the county-town of Monmouth,
teaching as prayerfully as ever the tenets of his faith. In 1801
Trenton was added to Freehold, and he successfully repeated his
previous efforts in confirming the churches. In 1802 he minis-
tered in Burlington, bringing the powerful armament of his
mind to bear against the Hicksite influence of the Friends, which
he attacked unsparingly. In 1803 he returned to Freehold. In
1804 he crossed into Pennsylvania, and traveled Bristol. In
1805-6 he again labored with his unvarying success in Elizabeth-
town. % * * is In 1807 he went to
the lower part of the state, in Cumberland, and in 1808 he was
stationed in Philadelphia, which was, at that time, perhaps, the
most influential centre possessed by Methodism. Here his pe-
culiar talents were largely appreciated. Our congregations com-
pared favorably, for intelligence and position, with other de-
nominations, and, while our mission was specially to the poor,
a fair proportion of the wise and noble were numbered
among our members and attendants upon our worship. By
these, especially, his ministry was received with delight, as it
combined the keenest, sharpest intellectuality with the richest
experience of personal and spiritual religion, while the poorer
and less educated persons found in his comprehensive simplicity
of thought, a full satisfaction in receiving through him their
portion of the bread of life in its due season.

Tn 1809 he was re-appointed to Bristol, which, as in the case
of every other circuit which he traveled, was glad to welcome
him again, and learn from him afresh the defences of the reli-
gion they possessed. In 1810 he preached in Northumberland.
In 1811-12 he returned to New Jersey, and traveled Asbury,
apparently as willing to minister in that rough mountain district
as he had been in the more comfortable stations of the city. In
1813 he extended his labors to Hamburg. In 1814 he returned
once more to Bristol, which seems to have been a favorite field
of usefulness. In 1815 he went back to his old ground of Free-
hold, and in 1816 he took charge of the societies among the
mountains of Sussex, where his ministry was both popular and
effective.

In 1817-18 he labored on New Mills. In 1819-20 among the
188 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

sands of Gloucester. In 1821-22 he crossed the Delaware
again to Chester, and in 1823 recrossed and went back to his old
friends in Asbury. In 1824 again to Sussex. In 1825 he re-
mained in the same region at Warren. In 1826 he opposed
Methodism to the extreme Calvinism of the Dutch Reformed
Churches in Bergen. In 1827 he worked on the line of the
Hudson at Haverstraw. In 1828-9 he traveled Hssex Circuit,
which was inhabited by a population more than ordinarily intel-
ligent, and peculiarly susceptible, from their Presbyterian educa-
tion, to his public ministrations, among whom he is still remem-
bered as a king in the Methodistic Israel. In 1830 he continued
his ministry in the same region, at Bloomfield, and with the same
success. The writer, when a boy, heard him at a camp-meeting
in North Belleville, on the Bloomfield Circuit. There was no
appearance of passion about’ his address; he did not excite the
emotions like the exhortation preachers, but stood calmly as-
serting a superior cause, which he was strong enough to prove.
To the writer’s childish mind he decidedly failed in accomplish-
ing the expected results of a sermon at camp-meeting. But the
people estimated differently. Abstruse points had been cleared
up to the mind’s vision, painful doubts had been set at rest,
impregnable arguments furnished and simplified, ‘‘ against the
foreordination of whatsoever came to pass,’’ the sinner clearly
shown the results of his path of transgression, the Christian
shown where stood the rock upon which his feet securely rested,
and it was universally conceded to be the greatest and best ser-
mon preached at the encampment. In 1831 he traveled a mis-
sion circuit in Somerset. In 1832 he once more passed over the
old ground at Freehold, and in 1834 he closed his traveling
ministry upon a circuit which he had occupied three times be-
fore—his favorite Bristol—and in 1835 he took, for the first time
in his life, a supernumerary relation to the Conference.

That ministry had extended over a period of forty-one years
without a single one of interruption. No discouragements from
hardships or inadequate compensation which draw so many into
locations, had induced him to lay down his ecclesiastical weapons
for a single month. None of these things had moved him from
his integrity. His constitution was iron, and his health firm,
DAVID BARTINE. 189

and both were used to their full capacity; but God mercifully
preserved them, and they were continually dedicated to his
work, and his descendants can point to his record and say,
‘“‘Here was a man who, in times that tried men’s souls, never
faltered in his work for forty-one years, and who only laid it
down when age and infirmities made its continuance impos-
sible.’’ .

He traveled a number of years after entering the Conference,
asa single man. Probably the meagre support which was ac-
corded to the preachers influenced him to this, for home was the
paradise of life to him, though it was but seldom he could enjoy
its blessings. He was then united to Miss Louisa Knowles, a
relative of Rev. Enoch Knowles, of Pennington, N. J. She
was a lady eminently qualified to aid him in bearing the burdens
of his ministry, and nobly filled the position of a helpmate to
him. Among the children of the marriage may be named the
late Hon. Judge Stephen North Bartine, of Bucks County, Pa.,
and Rev. D. W. Bartine, D. D., the efficient and popular Pre-
siding Elder of the North Philadelphia District.

After her decease he married Miss Elizabeth Hunt of Prince-
ton, N. J., near which he afterward settled his family, while he
traveled his extensive and laborious circuits. This lady managed
successfully his domestic interests in his long absences, and it
was largely owing to her energy and ability that he was enabled
for so long a time to leave all domestic cares, and give his entire
attention to the one work to which he had consecrated his life.
She is still living, and resides in the City of Trenton. Dr. O.
H.*Bartiue, a son by this union, is a popular practitioner of me-
dicine in Princeton, near the old homestead of the family.

In that homestead this veteran of the cross spent the de-
clining years of life, after taking hissupernumerary relation in 1835,
until on the 26th day of April, 1850, in the eighty-second year
of his age, and the fifty-eighth of his ministry, the angel of death
bore him to his homestead in the new earth, which the master
he served had prepared for him beyond the silent river.

Brother Bartine was altogether a self-made man. He tasked
his powers to the utmost, until he attained to a respectable pro-
ficiency in the languages. He was a good critic in the Greek,
190 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

and read its Testament accurately. Such attainments in days
when text books were not only scarce, but so arranged as to
confuse any but an instructor, argued more than medio-
crity of mind and energy. His memory was rightly denomi-
nated prodigious. He relied upon it exclusively for his sermons,
with all their multitudinous divisions and subdivisions, as well as
illustrations and delicate statements of abstract ideas. He also
trusted it entirely for all the studies which he was regularly
prosecuting. His private affairs were all carried on from the
simple power of recollection. His mind acted as a piece of ma-
chinery which printed indelibly its own results upon the memory,
to be read by him in all after time, whenever he chose.

This habit of studying from memory gave him a gravity of
demeanor, which interfered somewhat with the sweet amenities
of life. His children reverenced and loved, but never became
intimate with him. That same reticence of disposition exists in
all his writings, which say but little of himself, so that a complete
analysis of the character and life of one of the noblest names
of our church cannot now be given. Jn person he was tall and
spare, and his frame dignifiedly erect. In preaching, his motions
were angular, but in perfect harmony with the mathematically
demonstrative lines of his discourse. He frequently preached
with great unction, and large revivals were not uncommon du-
ring his ministry. He never allowed himself except in severest
sickness to miss an appointment. In his preaching his aim was
to make out whatever he took in hand. His disposition was
kindly, and found happiness in efforts for the happiness of those
around him. i

During the last years of life, the most of his time was spent
in reading the Bible and prayer, giving to Rev. D. W. Bartine,
as a reason for such constant perusal of the word, that he found
so much in it that was new. For the last year of his life infir-
mities confined him to the house, and in the few weeks that pre-
ceded death, it pleased the Lord.to try him with fiercer forms
of affliction. But his faith did not fail him, and he stayed hiw-
self on Gop. When a brother referred to his abundant labors
in the ministry, he replied, ‘‘I can see nothing in it all upon
which I would dare to rest the hope of salvation; my trust is
DAVID BARTINE. 191

altogether in the atonement made for me by my gracious Re-
deemer.’’ As he neared his end, his affectionate wife asked,
“Tf he felt the Saviour with him.’’ With evident peacefulness
and satisfaction, he answered, ‘‘ He is with me. JI fear no evil.”’
Expressions of entire confidence in God, and of a clear know-
ledge of his safety, frequently fell from his lips, until just as
life’s lamp was darkening, he looked around lovingly upon all
present, mantled his lips with a heavenly smile, and breathed
them a farewell. And then with the same calmness which had
distinguished all his life, he folded his hands upon his breast,
closed his eyes, and utteréd, ‘‘ Now Lord, lettest thou thy ser-
vant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation,”’
and sweetly fell asleep in Jesus, to waken in a land where his
long services and patient endurance would be graciously rewarded,
with the stars and crowns which mark the kings and priests in
the kingdom of the Father.
192 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

REV. PETER VANNEST.

He was born in Bethlehem Township, Hunterdon Co., N. J.,
on the 5th of August, 1759. In 1771 he removed to Philadel-
phia. During his residence in this city, he was often terribly
alarmed at his awful condition as a sinner. So intense was the
anguish of his spirit that the very pavements, as he walked over
them, seemed to bend beneath his feet, and he actually feared
the earth would open and swallow him up. His religious solici-
tude seems to have subsided, for a time, without having led
him to the fountain of cleansing. About this time our Revolu-
tionary struggle commenced, and he was induced to offer his
services to his country, and in 1776 he entered upon a privateer-
ing expedition, and, after a year’s absence, returned in his vessel
to Philadelphia.

The next year he repeated the experiment, but was taken
prisoner by the British, and carried to New York. After his re-
lease, in order to avoid the British press gangs which infested
the city, he took ship for Halifax, and sailed thence for the
Island of St. John. Here he remained until near the close of
the war, then returned to Halifax, and embarked for Eng-
land. On the passage the ship was found to be unsafe, and
they put into Bear Haven, the first port on the western coast
of Ireland. He made his way across the country to the City of
Cork, where he remained until February, 1784, when he set out
for Bristol, England, from which place he intended to embark
for the United States. The execution of his purpose, however,
he found impracticable at the time, and finding employment at
anchor making, spent the next four years at this business in the
City of Bristol. During this time he boarded at a tavern; a
young man in the same house being ill of pulmonary consump-
tion, requested Mr. Vannest to go for him toa Mr. Bundy, a
PETER VANNEST. 193

Methodist class-leader, who resided in the neighborhood, and
procure him his services as a religious counsellor. Mr. Bundy
made several visits to the sick man, and in this connection be-
came acquainted with Mr. Vannest, in whose religious welfare
also, he took a very deep interest.

At first he found it difficult to understand why the class-leader
should come with the subject of religion, since he was not
sick, nor likely soon to die! He thought religion very well
for dying people, but what interest could it have for those who
had before them the prospects of life? ‘‘Such,’’ says he, ‘was
my ignorance.’’ The good man invited the stranger to his
house, and, with his consent, read to him out of the Bible, and
kneeled with him in prayer. This was immediately followed
with an invitation to go to the Guinea Street Chapel and hear
the Rev. Thomas Warwick preach. At this time Mr. Vannest
had never been at a Methodist meeting, and complied very re-
luctantly, as he felt he would somehow compromise his good
name by going to such a place. ‘‘The man,”’ he says, ‘‘ was so
kind, I could not refuse his request. So I went, and crept away
under the gallery stairs to prevent any one seeing me, thinking
it would be a reproach to have it said that I went to a Methodist
meeting. As he listened to the discourse, he found that every
part of it so exactly applied to himself, that he supposed the
preacher must have had him in his mind, and that nothing but
delicacy kept him from calling out his name. He went from
the chapel with feelings which could not be described, and spent
much of the night in prayer to God for his pardoning mercy;
and here fully resolved that religion, from this time, should be
the great business of his life.

He immediately commenced to exhort his fellow-workmen to
flee the wrath to come, reproved them for swearing, and, finally,
prevailed on them to go with him to the house of prayer, and
with him they all at last embraced religion. Within a few days
after his awakening he joined the Methodist society, and at-
tended the class, as a penitent sinner inquiring the way of life,
in which condition he remained for nearly two months, when he
was happily converted in a class-meeting held in Richard
Bundy’s house. In narrating his conversion, he says, ‘‘ When

13
194 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

the leader on that occasion spoke to me I could not arise, but
fell, like Dagon before the ark of God. I lay about an hour
helpless, had no use of my limbs, but thought I was as active
as ever. It appeared as if I passed by the very gate of hell;
but, glory be to God, my blessed Jesus met me there and pro-
claimed pardon for all my sins. My strength returned, and,
oh, the unspeakable joy I then felt; if there had been ten
thousand people there, and I had possessed ten thousand
tongues, I would, with them all, have praised the Lord in the
presence of all the people !”’

Having been the instrument of leading his fellow-workmen to
Christ, even before he had himself emerged from the sorrows
of penitential grief; the light and love which now stimulated his
zeal for the salvation of souls greatly increased his efficiency,
and others were awakened and brought to God through his
agency.

The change in the men with whom he worked was so remark-
able as to become the subject of general observation. Their
employer, an irreligious man, worldly and vain, and who dressed
very elaborately, generally appearing among them with pow-
dered hair and ruffles on his wrists, was deeply impressed with
the altered character of the men, instead of drunkenness and
profanity, there was now the utmost decorum; and, interested
to learn the secret of this marvelous change, he determined to
go to the meetings and see for himself. He went to inquire,
but remained to pray, was happily converted, and became a most
zealous member of the Methodist Church. He had been accus-
tomed to have great and fashionable entertainments at his house;
now he put them all away, and his house was made a house of
prayer. His wife was indignant at what she deemed his fanati-
cism, and, not being able to dissuade him from his course, she
finally left him. He, however, continued steadfast, visiting and
praying with the sick, relieving their wants, and, by a life of
earnest devotion, became himself a striking illustration of the
power of this religion.

In the beginning of 1790, two years after his conversion, he
joined an association, whose object it was to relieve indigent
strangers, who had no parish, nor friends to help them, to visit
PETER VANNEST. 195

jails and hospitals, and to look after the sick who needed aid in
all parts of the city. Finding difficulty in selecting an appropri-
ate name, and in drafting suitable rules for its government, the
society appointed a meeting, and invited Mr. Wesley, who was
in Bristol at the time, to meet with them and aid in its organi-
zation. When he came, he made some inquiries as to its object,
then sat down and in a few minutes wrote half a sheet full, con-
taining fifteen or sixteen rules for its government, and naming it
the ‘‘Strangers’ Friend Society.’’ The society distributed be-
tween two and three hundred guineas (more than one thousand
dollars) annually.

Mr. Wesley usually visited Bristol in the fall and spring of
each year, so that during the seven years of Mr. Vannest’s con-
nection with the society in that place, he had frequent opportu-
nities of seeing him, and also of hearing him preach. He led all
the classes during each of these visits, and has led as many as
seventy of these classes in three days. It was his habit when he
found three absent-marks connected with any name, to announce
publicly the expulsion of the person, and to state that it was for
the neglect of class. One evening in the pulpit, he observed
that the night before a very extraordinary thing had happened
him; he did not recollect anything like it happening to him for
many years. The house was full, and all ears opened to hear
what it was. After a pause, he proceeded :—‘‘ Last night when
I went to bed I believe I laid awake above five minutes’’—an
illustration of one of the secrets of Mr. Wesley’s wonderful
achievements: he never wasted time. Dr. Samuel Johnson said
of him: ‘‘Mr. Wesley’s conversation is good: he can talk well
on any subject; but he is never at leisure. He is always obliged
to go at a certain hour. This is very disagreeable to a man who
Joves to fold his legs and have out his talk, as I do.”’

In the year 1791 Mr. Vannest was appointed leader of a class
which met about a mile out of the city. He assumed the duty
with great reluctance, trembling under a sense of its heavy re-
sponsibility ; but God was with him, and it prospered greatly,
so that in a short time it became necessary to divide it. In at-
tending to the duties of his class, he was obliged to pass through
the village of Bedminster, whose inhabitants were both very
196 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

poor and extremely wicked. They would call derisively after
him as he passed them, and bespatter him with the vilest and
coarsest epithets, and their children, under the influence of these
vicious examples, were likely to surpass even the parents in
wickedness. He became interested in these people, and with his
wonted energy undertook their rescue from the demon vice.
While a quiet passer through their streets, they were fierce as
curs, but when he turned upon them, with his earnest and affec-
tionate exhortations, they became alarmed, and rather avoided
than sought his attention. One of the worst of these was a
Richard Wakefield, who as Mr. Vannest passed along called
after him; but as he was used to this, he kept on without no-
ticing the man “‘until he got to the top of his voice; then,”
writes Mr. Vannest, ‘‘I looked back and the man beckoned me,
and I went to him, and he began with the worst language I ever
heard, part of which was personal abuse of me. When he
paused I thought it my turn to say something for my Master.
When I had spoken a few moments, he shook as if he had the
ague, and invited me to come into his house and see him. A
time was arranged, but when I came he was not at home. I
went several times, but could not find him; his wife seemed to
be a respectable woman, and was much affected on account of
his wickedness. She engaged to keep him in on a certain Sab-
bath until one o’clock if possible if I would come. I went at the
time and found him at home; he was so agitated when I went
in that he shook from head to foot, so that at dinner it was diff-
cult for him to carve. I entertained him with talking, reading,
singing, and praying until five o’clock, and then invited him to
go with me to a meeting at Guinea street Chapel; turning to
his wife, he said: ‘Get the children ready—let us all go to meet-
ing.’ This family on their way to meeting was so novel a sight
that the people all through the village stared at them as if they
had been wild beasts; but the man was sincere, and himself and
wife became deeply penitent, and immediately joined the society.
In about two weeks they were happily converted; he felt such
unspeakable joy that he started immediately to bring the joyful
news to me, a distance of two miles; and as he went through the
village, he told all he met what the Lord had done for his soul.
PETER VANNEST. 197

About a year after this his wife died in great triumph, shouting
and praising God to the last.”’

He also became interested for the children of this wicked com-
munity, for whese souls ‘tno man seemed to care.’’ He opened
a Sabbath-school, and went from house to house, and invited the
children to attend, and succeeded in collecting about seventy of
them into a room which he had rented for the purpose, and
which he supplied with the necessary furniture and fuel at his
own expense. After the school on each Sabbath he took them
to the Episcopal Church, where he had two large pews provided
for them. The children made great improvement, and his suc-
cess led him to devise still more liberal things for them.. He
opened a subscription, which he headed with a considerable con-
tribution, for the purpose of furnishing them with a week-day
school, and soon had some forty of them in regular attendance.
Other liberal-minded people were drawn into the enterprise by
its wonderful success, which continued to increase while under
his efficient management.

While thus engaged, the Rev. Henry Moore sent him ‘‘ a plan
of six months’ work as a local preacher,’’ bearing date, January
1794, he was unwilling to accept the responsibilities of so sacred
and important a work, notwithstanding his ‘‘ determination to
do good to the bodies and souls of his fellow-men to the utmost
of‘his ability,’’ and went to Mr. Moore to return him the plan
and to say the work was too great, that he could not undertake
it; the minister, however, had no authority to release him from
the obligations of a work, to which God had evidently called him
and left with him, the whole responsibility of refusing to obey
the call. Unwilling to take such a responsibility, he went,
though not without considerable reluctance to the work; but
soon found abundant encouragement in the gracious fruits with
which God crowned his earnest, faithful labors.

He continued to serve the church in this office for about two

vars when a gentleman in Bristol, who had control of certain
shipping interests, learning of his desire to return to America,
offered him a passage in his vessel to Philadelphia; and in the
beginning of the year 1796, he bade adieu to England, and re-
turned to his native land.
198 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.
{

He found ‘the captain and his crew all very wicked, swearing,
brawling, quarreling, fighting and doing many acts bordering on
desperation.’’ With his wonted fearlessness he ‘‘ commenced
reproving them ;’”’ hisremonstrances kindled their rage, and they
threatened to throw him overboard, but as they did not do it he
continued his reproofs; the contest for a time was severe, but in
“about two weeks,” he writes, ‘‘ I got swearing out of the ship,
and there was a great calm. All was now peace and good order
where fighting and disorder had reigned ; and, when after this,
by accident, I fell overboard, they gladly came to my help, and
got me on board again; and when we landed at Philadelphia our
parting was truly affecting, even to tears.”’

He continues; ‘‘I brought a certificate from Rev. James
Cole, which I gave to Mr. Bostwick, who took it to the Phila-
delphia Conference, upon which they received me, and ap-
pointed me to Salem Circuit, N. J., with Robert McCoy,
but I did not go. I suffered more affliction that year than
I had for many years before. I did not know but that it was
for disobedience, so I promised the Lord that I would go the
next year, if he would go with me. I went to Conference the
next Spring, 1797, which was held at Duck Creek, (Smyrna, Del. ),
and Bishop Asbury said to me, ‘I am going to send you to Eng-
land, will yougo?’ I said, ‘ Yes, sir, if yousay so.’ Hesaid, ‘I
mean New England, and they are a wise people there: it will
be a good school for you. Last year I gave you an appointment,
and you refused to go; now I will send you a great way from
home, and you will not run away.’ SoI went to Middletown,
Conn.”’

At South Britain, which was a part of his charge, he found a
society of four members, one of whom, a boy, it became necessary
to expel: but he left there at the end of the year, about forty
members, and four local preachers. On another part of the
circuit lived a man who had recently been reclaimed from a
backslidden state, who came to Mr. Vannest, and requested him
to hold a meeting at his house: he appointed a day, and went to
the place, a distance of fourteen miles, through extremely bad
traveling, ‘‘ there being nearly two feet of hail upon the ground
with a hard crust upon it.’’ Having had two other appoint-
PETER VANNEST. 199

ments at different places the same day, it required considerable
effort to meet this engagement; he was the first preacher of
his denomination to visit the place, and the people stared at him
as if he had been a monster.

He found the woman of the house to be a perfect termagant,
who ‘‘ swore if he ever came there again, she would have him
rode on a rail.’” Her conduct was indeed so violent in general,
toward ministers, that the Presiding Elder, who saw her after
this, said, he never saw a woman possessed with so many devils;
yet even this woman was converted, ere the year closed, ‘‘ and
became a remarkably humble and pious follower of our Lord
Jesus Christ, and was a blessing to her family and the neigh-
borhood.’’ The Lord raised up during the year in that place,
also, a good society.

In 1798, he was appointed to Croton Circuit, from which, af-
ter three months, he was returned to Middletown.

From the New York Conference in 1799 Bishop Asbury sent
him to Wittingham, Vermont, to form a new Circuit, after he
had arranged a round of appointments occupying two weeks, his
circuit was merged by the Presiding Elder in that of Pittsfield.

Among the converts this year was a young woman named
Deborah Butler, the daughter of a Baptist minister. This per-
son was subject to singular paroxysms; she would fall suddenly
and lay like one dead for a few moments, and then begin to talk
andcontinue her discourse nearly as long as the state lasted :
previously to her conversation her utterances were coarse and
vulgar, afterward they were purely religious. Mr. Vannest says,
‘“‘T have heard her when in one of these fits, compose a hymn
and tune and sing them; then pray, take a text and preach a
good sermon, compose another hymn and sing it, pray and dis-
miss the congregation with the benediction, and then in a few
minutes come to herself, but without any recollection of anything
she had said. She had a wonderful gift in prayer, and some-
times would exhort individuals ina masterly manner. I have
heard her in conversation with her father tear his Calvinistic
system to pieces; she seemed to have the whole Bible at com-
mand. When I last heard of her she was married, and living a
very pious life.’’
200 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

While on his way to preach at a place called Petersburgh, on
this circuit, he was sorely tempted to abandon the work of the
ministry ; and the impulse so far mastered him, as that he ac-
tually turned his horse to go home, but recollecting several diffi-
culties in the way of so sudden an abandonment of his charge,
he concluded to fill that appointment and then leave: that night,
however, a good work of religion commenced, which resulted in
an ingathering of nearly a hundred souls in that place.

At a place called Dalton, they met with much opposition.
‘*But God carried on his own work,’’ writes Mr. Vannest,
‘Cand a number were converted: among whom was a young
woman of respectable family, an only daughter. When under
conviction the Presbyterian minister waited on her, and wished
her to join his church, saying that it was more honorable to be a
Presbyterian than a Methodist. She said she did not want honor
—she would rather go on her hands and knees to heaven than to
ride to hell in a coach. When she went home after joining
society, her father bade her leave his house. She found shelter in
the house of a poor man named Durgy, where she was enter-
tained in the best they had ; and the Lord blest her visit to the
conversion of both this man and his wife. After this she taught
school at a place called Adams, about twenty miles distant, but
whether she ever returned home or not, I cannot tell.”’

In the village of Clorane were two Presbyterian churches: one
of them was without a preacher. The late incumbent, having
violated the law.in marrying a couple, and finding there was a
reward offered for his arrest, hurriedly took his departure. The
people worshiping there had paid their pastor four dollars per
week. After he left they wrote the preacher in charge on the
Pittsfield Circuit, requesting him to fill the pulpit, with the offer
of the four dollars per week. The preacher complied, but re-
fused the money, asking only the privilege of "a quarterly collec-
tion. A revival soon commenced, and the first convert was the son
of the Presbyterian minister settled over the other church, a Mr.
Tagert. Under the stimulus of so grave a provocation as the
perversion of his son, this minister immediately set himself to
write a book against this new sect, which, Mr. Vannest says,
‘‘was to be the great magazine to destroy Methodism, but, Rev.
PETER VANNEST. 201

Wm. Thatcher of the N. Y. Conference wrote a reply with such
weighty arguments and strong, scriptural truths, that it com-
pletely damped all the combustibles of the magazine so that they
did not explode, to do Methodism any harm.”

In 1800, he was sent to the Essex Circuit ; and in 1801, to New
London. There he met with the eccentric Lorenzo Dow, and
gives several anecdotes characteristic of the man: one of
which is in substance, as follows: Dow prevailed on many to
pledge themselves to pray three times a day, and would engage
himself to pray as often for them, and he always called upon God
to witness the agreement ; his manner of doing this was pecu-
liarly solemn, and often caused those thus pledged to tremble.
One man engaged to pray the required number of times per day,
after exacting a promise that he would not call God to witness:
but Dow immediately on the man pledging himself‘ called on the
devil, and all the damned ghosts to witness! The man declared
that language could not describe the sense of horror which this
awful invocation produced: it was however the means of his
conversion, and he thanked God for it.

The yellow fever was fearfully prevalent during the summer
within the bounds of this Circuit. ‘‘ At Norwichtown the bell
would toll at daylight each morning, and men go from house to
house to call for help to bury the dead. ‘‘AsI was going to
meeting on a Sabbath morning,”’ he says, ‘‘I saw a horse stand-
ing at a door, the grave dug, and the man not dead. I returned in
about two hours, and the man was buried. I could hear the
groans of the afflicted at my lodgings. The custom was as soon
as one was dead, to wrap the corpse in a tarred sheet, and bury
as soon as posible.

‘““The fever continued about three months. We attended our ap-
pointments regularly. Iwas taken with the symptoms, which
were a pain in the back and head, very violent. It was a very
warm day, and J had an appointment in a dwelling- house which
was full. Iwas in much pain, but commenced the meeting and
got into a great perspiration, and at the close felt well in soul
and body.”’

The following incident given in one of his letters illustrates
some of the prevalent peculiarities of the doctrinal and practical
religion of those days in New England.
202 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

“On my way to Bozrah a man came up to me in great haste,
and inquired if I was a Methodist preacher. I told him I was.
‘Well,’ said he, ‘I have been looking and watching and waiting
for several years to catch one.’ Well, sir, what do you want
with him? ‘To make him ashamed of his erroneous principles.’
What are they? ‘You hold to falling from grace.’ Not so;
we hold to getting grace and keeping it. ‘But you say that we
can fall from grace?’ That is another thing. There is a possi-
bility and a danger: angels fell, Adam fell; and Paul! said, ‘I
keep under my body and bring it into subjection, lest when I
have preached to others I myself should be a castaway.’ The man
said, ‘I do not believe it possible to fall from grace.’ Sir, will
you give me liberty to ask you a few questions? Have you
ever had grace? He said, ‘Yes, sir.’ Have you any grace
now? ‘To be sure I have: I could not lose it.’ Now, be
honest. Do you not get mad sometimes? Do you not swear
sometimes? Do you not get drunk sometimes? He answered,
‘Yes, Ido.’ Sir, if you do these things, you have no more re-
ligion than the devil. He said he believed in falling foully, but
not finally. I said I believed in two degrees of 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, and find forgive-
ness, your next fall will be into hell, and you will be lost for-
ever.’ The man’s countenance changed, he put whip to his
horse and hastened away. I thought he would not be in haste
to catch another Methodist preacher, as he had such poor suc-
cess with the first.’’

At the New York Conference, of which he was then a member,
there was in 1802 a call for preachers to go to Canada. As the
church authorities did not make appointments to the British
Provinces, the request was for volunteers. Mr. Vannest went
upon this call to Oswegatchie Circuit. Here he had long and
dangerous rides over frozen rivers and through deep snows, of-
ten with nothing to direct his course but marks upon the trees,
and had at times to travel where for twenty miles he did not see
a single human habitation.

His next charge, Bay of Quinte, was through even a more
desolate region. On one part of this circuit the appointments
PETER VANNEST. 203

were separated by a distance of thirty-four miles without a stop-
ping-place, In the summer his horse would find grass in a place
where the Indians in other years had made their fires, and in
the winter he carried oats in his saddle-bags, and made a trough
of the snow, out of which to feed his horse.

The year 1803 was spent on the Niagara Circuit with Samuel
How as his colleague. This year they had no Presiding Elder,
and he attended to the duties of this office for his own and the
adjoining circuit. They found the work here even more diffi-
cult than in the other parts of the Province: for in addition to
long rides, dangerous exposures and hard fare, they suffered
persecution from wicked men, who were so stupid as to charge
the unselfish evangelists with a desire for money and ease, in
their ill-paid toils and voluntary hardships.

He was, however, more than compensated for these trials, by
the successes which crowned his faithful ministry. On one oc-
casion a man of genteel appearance came to request him to
preach at his place: he had a large ball-room, (for he kept a
public house, ) the use of which he offered him for the service.
After some searching inquiries which led the man to believe that
the preacher could see into his heart, he arranged to go: it be-
came one of his regular appointments, and as a result the man
and his six brothers with their wives, in all fourteen, were hap-
pily converted. He gave up his tavern, extinguished the fires
of his distillery, arid gave his ball-room to the Lord for a place
of worship, until the society could provide a better.

In 1804 he returned to the States, and was appointed to Bur-
lington, N. J.; in 1805, to Elizabethtown Circuit; in 1806, to
Somerset, Md.; in 1807, to Holland Purchase Mission, N. Y.
During the years 1808 and 1809 he was Presiding Elder on the
Cayuga District. In 1810 he was preacher in charge on the
Gloucester Circuit, N. J. From 1811 to 1814 he traveled the
East Jersey District. His subsequent appointments as an effec-
tive man were a year on each of the following circuits: Salem,
Freehold, Bergen, and Gloucester, all in New Jersey.

At the conference of 1819 he was made supernumerary, and
appointed to Pemberton, and in 1821 became superannuated.
From the time he ceased to be effective till his death—a period
204 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

of about thirty-one years—he had his home at Pemberton,
N. J., where he was highly respected and eminently useful.
He watched over the church in that place with exemplary
fidelity, and felt a lively interest in whatever related to the
purity and prosperity of the general Church to the last. When
in his ninety-second year, he was often seen with staff in hand
going from house to house, inquiring with great interest in re-
spect to both the temporal and spiritual welfare of the inmates.

During his last years he wrote several articles for the Christian
Advocate and Journal, giving personal reminiscences mostly of
his earlier life and ministry. They were characterized by great
simplicity, and often by deep feeling; and they excited so much
interest that persons in various parts of the country wrote him,
expressing a wish for a continuance of these contributions.

On Tuesday, Oct. 8th, 1850, he was attacked with paralysis,
which totally disabled one side, and so affected his speech, that it
was with difficulty he could be understood. On the following
Friday his speech returned, and he conversed fluently with his
numerous Christian friends. He was fully aware that death was
approaching, but instead of viewing it with terror he hailed it
with rapture as the introduction to a glorious and an eternal rest.
The exultations of his triumphant spirit made the place of his
departure a truly privileged one: it seemed radiant with the
light of heaven. An inquiry concerning his prospects elicited
the response: ‘‘Glory, glory, glory! Hallelujah to the Lamb
for ever and ever.’’ Indeed the language of praise and thanks-
giving was continually upon his lips until death sealed them in
silence on the 17th of October, 1850, in the ninety-second year
of his age.

Mr. Vannest was of middle height, of stout build, and in his
old age slightly corpulent; he possessed great simplicity and cor-
diality of manners, and in natural temperament was ardent and
sympathetic. He was aman of strong, positive character, whose
convictions were very decided, and always maintained with great
tenacity. hese qualifications, connected as they were with ex-
cellent judgment and a rare prudence, gave him great power
with the people, and, despite his defective education, made him
eminently successful as a minister of Jesus Christ.
PETER VANNEST. 205

His piety was of a high order; like Stephen, he was a man
full of faith and the Holy Ghost. and lived m unbroken fellow-
ship with God. His whole life was in a remarkable degree con-
trolled by religious considerations and influences. He regarded
Methodism in her doctrines and polity as nearly as possible a
perfect embodiment of the teachings of the New Testament, and
consequently always deprecated what are called improvements in
our economy when they seemed to involve a departure from the
established usages of the Church.

Like Asbury, McKendree, Whatcoat, Cooper, and other lead-
ing men of the heroic age of our Methodism, Mr. Vannest re-
mained a bachelor. .

His preaching was plain, practical, thoroughly evangelical, and
more than ordinarily effective. He attracted very considerable
attention in his day, and well deserves an enduring memorial.
206 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

REV. THOMAS CHRISTOPHER.

Tue subject of this sketch affords some useful lessons, illus-
trative of the ways of God to man. He was one of the many
humble and unpretending men, from obscure walks in life, and
without superior talents or special advantages, whose self-deny-
ing and devoted labors in the vineyard of the Lord are crowned
with large success. God thus shows us that he selects his own
ambassadors, and that, with him, a single eye and a zealous en-
listment in the great work, are more acceptable than many
talents or varied learning. Not that either of the latter is to be
lightly esteemed. One is the direct gift of God, and both are
signally owned when rightly used; but neither separately, nor
both combined, will make up for the lack of single-hearted de-
votion to the work of cultivating the Lord’s vineyard. When
large native talent is developed by extensive culture and re-
search, and, especially, when it employs a splendid oratory, it
may attract attention and secure applause. It may also go far
to disarm prejudice, instruct ignorance, convey important truths
to the popular mind, and in many ways accomplish good. But
all this, apart from a distinct consecration of the whole man, a
living sacrifice to God, will avail but little in bringing sinners
to Christ, while medium ability and ordinary acquirements,
fully devoted to God, are often rendered strangely efficient in
this highest department of usefulness. How invaluable is this
lesson to the many who are called to this difficult and responsible
work, and yet painfully feel deficient in both native and acquired
ability.

Thomas was the son of Joseph C. Christopher, and was born
in Cambridge, Dorchester Co., Md., June 12th, 1805. His
mother died when he was a child, but his father, who was a
farmer and local preacher, was twice subsequently married. He
THOMAS CHRISTOPHER. 207

died when forty years of age. Thomas was converted and joined
the Church when only twelve years old, and ever after main-
tained a Christian profession with unusual steadiness. How
lovely is such a sight! How few rise superior to native evils,
avoid the snares, and resist the enticements that beset the paths
of childhood, and thence to life’s end exhibit a consistent
Christian demeanor! And if the reformation of a debauched
sinner shows a wonderful efficacy in the atonement, a case like
this does more. It proclaims Christ a Saviour from sin in the
highest sense, z. ¢., from the commission of it, and that the lost
image of God may be restored, before guilt has been contracted
or native depravity increased. It also shows that the whole of
life may be employed in the service of God.

Thomas had a frail body, for which reason his school advan-
tages were increased, and his early conversion and after faithful-
ness render it probable that he had a good religious training.
He loved books, thirsted for knowledge, acquired a fair English
education, and adopted teaching as a profession, which he fol-
lowed till he became an itinerant.

For a long time he was exercised on the subject of preaching.
Feeling incompetent to the task, and that the idea of his being
called to such a work was preposterous and must be a mistake,
he earnestly resisted his impressions. But, though repressed
for a time, they would return with redoubled power. At times
his distress was so great as to interfere with his duties. He
would often resort to the grove to commune with his own heart,
with nature, and with God. The feathered songster, gleefully
hymning its Maker’s praise, and even the roaming beast, so free
from responsibility and care, added to his sadness by force of
contrast. And when we call to mind how early he was converted,
how late he entered the ministry, and that his attention was
called to the subject soon after he embraced religion, a long in-
terim is left for this painful conflict. But, as relief only came
in the measure of his ascent to the truth of his impressions and
his willingness to follow in any path that Providence and the
Church pointed out, he was finally led out of the mazes of
doubt and perplexity, into the clear light of a call to the min-
istry.
208 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

In 1833 he was employed under the direction of the Presiding
Elder. The next spring he was admitted to the Philadelphia
Conference, and in due course of time, elected to deacon’s and
elder’s orders. In 1835 he came into New Jersey, in which
state he spent the balance of his life. The following were his
fields of labor: 1834, Kent, Md.; 1835, Salem, N. J.; 1836,
Gloucester ; 1837-8, Cumberland ; 1839, Bargaintown; 1840-41,
Cape May; 1842, Gloucester; 1843-4, Bargaintown; 1845,
Medford; 1846, Cumberland; 1847, Lower Penn’s Neck;
1848-9, Atlantic.

About the middle of the second year at Atlantic his health
failed. Under medical advice, he gave up the charge and
sought rest and invigoration, expecting soon to return to his
loved employment. He opened astore in order to secure a sup-
port for his family and healthful exercise for himself. For a
few weeks he seemed to improve, but then took a severe cold
which resulted in bilious pleurisy. He took to his bed the day
after Christmas, but soon partially recovered. Meanwhile, a
heart disease, which had at times troubled him, developed quite
alarming symptoms. This was on the 16th of January. His
friends yet cherished hopes, but he had a presentiment that he
would not recover. His prostration and distress were very
great. ‘‘ Yet he talked much of dying without fear or dread.”
He took comfort from the assurance given by Paul, that ‘‘ our
light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far
more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.’’ 1 Cor. iv. 17.
The day before he died, his friends painfully felt that his end
was near. When asked if he had any fears, ‘‘Oh, no, all is
well!’’ he replied, and added, ‘‘ my work is done, I shall soon
go.”

He commended his children to God, and urged his wife, son,
and other friends, to meet him in heaven. The next day he
said, ‘‘This world is not worth a thought, I am almost gone, all
is right.’” He also sent this message to his brethren of the
Conference: ‘‘Tell them I love them all. For sixteen years I
have not failed to preach Christ and him crucified. Tell them
I have finished my course with great joy.’’ As the closing
hour drew near, his mind assumed a triumphant frame, and he

|
THOMAS CHRISTOPHER. 209

awaited his release in tranquil peace and holy ecstacy. He again
took leave of his family and friends, desired them to pray that
he might be taken away from his sufferings, frequently ex-
claimed, ‘‘ Glory to God!’’ and uttered, as his last words, ‘‘T
am almost home.”’ After this he was only able to raise his
hands in token of victory. ‘‘He sweetly fell asleep in Jesus,
without a sigh ora groan,” at seven o’clock, P. M., January
31st, 1850, aged nearly forty-five years. Thus lived and died
another champion of the cross, another trophy of the Re-
deemer. And thus, too, was illustrated the power of the reli-
gion of Christ, fully to sustain the believer through the toils and
trials of life, and in the stern reality of death.

As a preacher, Thomas Christopher was earnest, pointed, and
practical. He belonged to the old school as to the structure of
his sermons, the warmth of his manner, and the extent to which
he dealt with the affairs of every day life. He gave no quarter
to the follies of fashion, the frivolities of the giddy and trifling,
or the bold inconsistencies of those who put the claims of busi-
ness before the duties of religion, or allow trivial things to come
between them and their religious obligations. In all these re-
spects he trimmed closely. Of his earnest manner one colleague
says, ‘‘ As a preacher he was very ardent; he could not preach
unless he felt.’ Another says, ‘‘ A prominence of his ministry
was ardency.’’ This arose from an intense and absorbing anxiety
to secure success. To this everything else was secondary, and
was made subservient. His deep reverence for God, high ap-
preciation of the sacred office and strong desire to win souls,
eombined to exclude all attempts at mere display, and even
seem to have led to a neglect of style. He wrote but little, and
depended mainly, in preparing for the pulpit, upon thinking out
his subjects, and fixing the substance of them in his memory.
But he was chiefly anxious to enlist his feelings in them, and se-
cure an attending divine unction. He believed that people are
benefited in about the measure that their feelings are impressed,
and that deep feeling must be had before it can be communi-
cated. Acceding the correctness of this position, it does not fol-
low that deep feeling or divine imbuement is incompatible with
thorough mental preparation. Our subject. possessed a fine ima-

14
210 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

gination, and, at times, when aided by a special inspiration,
there were passages in his discourses of unusual pathos and
power. But if he gave too little attention to style and thus
failed to develope his full power as a preacher, it arose from the
purest motives. Blessed is he who adopts the happy mean be-
tween too great neglect and over-attention to the arts of oratory.

Concerning his success, and the manner of securing it, his
widow bears this remarkable testimony: ‘‘He was always suc-
cessful. He was never satisfied without success. He never
served a circuit or station but what he had a revival. When he
commenced an extra meeting, he began extra prayer for the de-
scent of the Holy Spirit. I have awaked at the midnight hour
and heard him praying, and when I asked him what was the
matter, he would reply, ‘Oh, the weight of souls, and the re-
sponsibility I feel.’ Often when finding him awake, I have
asked if he had not been asleep. He would say, ‘I have
preached two or three sermons since I came to bed.’ He wasa
man of strong faith, and would hear no prophesying of failure,
but went to work, relying on God, with the assured expectation
of success. He was seldom disappointed. The greatest revival
of his ministry was on old Gloucester Circuit, as the colleague of
Rev. A. K. Street, when they received five hundred on trial.’’

His mode of studying his sermons so developed the power of
abstraction, that he could even be oblivious to the confusion of
crying or rollicking children. The habit of close, consecutive
thought was also thereby fostered and some measure of mental
discipline secured. This much, at least, was gained as an offset
to the loss arising from the neglect of a more thorough and
vigorous use of the pen. But without this it is not possible for
any one to develope his full power in the use of his mother
tongue.

He was blessed with a large stock of kindness, which over-
flowed in all directions. He was a good husband, a considerate
father, a fast friend, and a genial, pleasant companion. Com-
bined with an ever-present desire to do good, it gave him access
to the people, disarmed prejudice, put the timid at ease in his
presence, made all feel that in him they had a friend, and thus
aided him in his pastoral work.
THOMAS CHRISTOPHER. 211

He spent sixteen consecutive years in the ministry, and his
strong desire to cease at once to work and live was quite fully
accorded. Most of the time he traveled large circuits, and re-
ceived but a light support. He bore a full share of the hard-
ships of the itinerancy, nor did the ardor of his zeal tend to
lighten its burdens. He went through all kinds of weather and
roads, promptly meeting all his engagements. And what we re-
gard as a special virtue, he was serupulous about being punctual
as to time. Nor did he fail where fidelity is put to its strongest
test, he spent much time from home. His whole career was
marked by uncomplaining cheerfulness, for he was warmly at-
tached to the church, and counted no personal sacrifice too great
to aid in a full development of her economy. If reminded that
he might thereby hasten his end, he would reply, ‘‘I shall die
in a good cause; better to wear out than to rust out.”

His piety was deep and uniform, and his course steady. And
though not free from severe spiritual conflicts, yet his tenacity
knew no yielding till he gained the mastery. And then the re-
ligion that he enjoyed and commended to others did not fail him
in the dying hour.

His mortal remains were first buried at Tuckahoe, but after-
ward removed to Glassboro, where, four years later, those of his
only son, a promising youth of nineteen, were laid by his side.
His widow, a daughter of Joseph Albertson of Glassboro, and
mother of Rev. G. C. Stanger, of the New Jersey Conference,
and two daughters, still survive him.
212 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

REV. MULFORD DAY.

Mou.Forp, eldest son of Rev. Stephen Day, was born at New
Providence, New Jersey, on April 8th, 1800.

His father was one of the oldest, most devoted and useful
Methodists in all that country. When he was born, the Metho-
dist Episcopal Church had no existence, and the infant colonies
were battling for national life. Twelve years only had elapsed
since Philip Embury preached his first sermon in New York,
and all the societies numbered but about six thousand members
and less than thirty preachers. In the year that he united with
the church (1803,) there were but little over one hundred thou-
sand members in all North America. He was always found on
the side of the progressive Christianity of the day, hating drunk-
enness, hating slavery, and hating rebellion. In early life he
was married to Miss Sarah Mulford, who remained with him
but for a year, when she died, leaving an infant son, only nine
days old, the subject of the present sketch.

He was immediately adopted by his maternal grandfather,
Cornelius Mulford, Esq., in whose family he spent most of the
years of infancy, boyhood and youth. They were loving and
kind, but no kindness can supply the lack of a mother’s gentle
ministrations. No class of circumstances can compensate for this
loss. The tender sympathy which attracts the boy to his home
and thus preserves him from vicious associations, the watchful
solicitude which guards the early errors of the mind, the intense
regard which embraces all opportunities for temporal or spiritual
welfare, could be given by no one bué a mother, and in Ais case
the loss was most severely felt. His grandfather’s family made
no profession of religion, and consequently he was left without
those moral restraints, or religious instructions, so essential to
the rightful direction of the youthful mind. As was natural, he
MULFORD DAY. 213

did not choose the better part. While he did not yield to gross
immoralities, he still chose a life of sin, in preference to one of
godliness. His moral nature was too strong to bear this, with-
out strong reproofs from an accusing conscience, and, at the
early age of sixteen, he openly adopted the principles of in-
fidelity, as a refuge from its power. Referring to this in his
diary, he says, ‘‘ Oh how fearful issuch acourse! My depraved
heart, almost, if not quite, (under Satan’sinfluence, ) embraced the
horrid doctrines of Atheism.’’ But though the convictions of
his soul were thus deadened, and his principles were so averse
to the reception of religious truth, God did not leave him to re-
probacy of mind. The light of the gospel of Christ found its
way to the darkened moral sensibilities of his nature, and when
about nineteen years of age, while attending a camp-meeting
near Rahway, and listening to a sermon delivered by Rey.
Lawrence McCombs, a strange feeling came upon him, and he
felt impelled to seek the Lord. The convictions were not pungent
—there was no deep distress—but a ‘‘ drawing from above’’ both
seized and kept possession of his soul. Under its influence, he
openly avowed his need of the religion of Jesus, and expressed
his determination to seek it until it was obtained; although,
without the impulsion of that deep anguish which so generally
accompanies conviction of sin. With characteristic energy and
perseverance he devoted himself to thisone work. No opportu-
nity was neglected, no meeting of the church allowed to pass
unimproved, until, a few weeks after his first convictions, while
struggling for salvation at the altar of the church at New Provi-
denice, all his sense of guilt disappeared, and he involuntarily
arose to his feet and sang with the rest of the people, the praises
of his Divine Redeemer. He continued, however, to pray, and
soon the evidence of his acceptance became so clear and full as
to free him from every doubt, and enable him to rejoice in God
with joy unspeakable and full of glory.

This great change through which he passed he dates on the
thirteenth day of October, 1819, a day of precious memory in his
history.. He had already, while a penitent seeker of religion,
united with the church on probation, thus giving evidence of
that calm determination of purpose which was a marked charac-
214 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

teristic of all his future life. Soon after his conversion he was
appointed a class leader, in the exercise of which office, he gave
promise of future usefulness, while his consistency of life and
conversation impressed the church with unbounded confidence in
the purity of his principles and the reality of his conversion.
Soon after this he was licensed to exhort. A new field of labor
opened before him, for while his work as a class leader had here-
tofore only brought him into contact with those who held like
precious faith, he was now to face the ungodly in his public
efforts for the cause of Christ. But, accepting the labor, he
toiled with all the calm energy of his soul in impressing sinners
with their danger, and urging them to flee the wrath to come.
He labored in this sphere until 1824, at which time he was
united in marriage to a worthy and pious lady, and almost im-
mediately afterward received impressions of his duty to preach
the gospel. These impressions were shared fully by his wife.
But such was the modesty of the man, and so high his esti-
mate of the sacred office, that it was not until June of 1831, that
they were allowed to overcome his hesitancy and compel their
public avowal. From that hour, he states, ‘‘he never had a
doubt of his Divine call to the work of the ministry.’’ In the
August following he received verbal license to preach, and
delivered his first sermon at Union Valley. This was deemed by
his brethren a satisfactory evidence of his call to the work, and
at the Quarterly Conference of the November ensuing he was
regularly licensed to preach and recommended to the Philadel-
phia Annual Conference. At this session of the Conference,
however, no married men were received, and he continued to
exercise and improve his gifts, by preachingin the appointments
adjacent to his residence until the Spring of 1833, when he was
admitted on trial and appointed to Freehold Circuit.

The position he now occupied, though felt to be a duty, was
emphatically a cross. His nature was diffident and retiring,
his estimate of himself unusually low, and he was conscious that
his preaching lacked that intense and fiery energy which gave so
great a popularity to many of his brethren in the ministry.
But, the Holy Spirit pressed him on, and he dared not disobey,
working faithfully and usefully throughout the year. The
MULFORD DAY. 215

succeeding year he traveled Crosswicks, where the same results
followed. At the Conference of 1835, he was admitted into full
connection and ordained a deacon by Bishop Emory, who ap-
pointed him to Cumberland Circuit, but to accommodate some
want of the work, he was subsequently changed to Freehold,
where his calm and loving manner had impressed the people
with a sense of his worth, and remained there as preacher in
charge for two years, to the general satisfaction of the people.
In 1837 he was ordained an elder by Bishop Waugh, and ap-
pointed to Staten Island, where he also served the church for
two years, winning the love of the people among whom he la-
bored, and realizing a fair amount of spiritual success in his en-
deavors to do good. In 1839 and 1840, he traveled Haverstraw
Cireuit, magnifying the office of the ministry, and by the purest
possible walk and chastest conversation, impressing the people
with the reality of the religion he professed. Indeed a large
part of his pulpit power lay in this consistency of life. No man
who knew him, had any doubts, when he came to the house of
God to hear the minister, of his entire holiness. From the
general habit of his life, the people were sure that he was what
he professed to be, and his influence over them was correspond-
ent with their confidence. Oh, what holy power over men
exists in a pure and godly life! The weakest talents illuminated
with this light of God, are made his power unto salvation, and
when their talents are of a superior cast, the dignity of a solemn
and devoted life adds double power to their impression upon the
minds of men.

In 1841 and 1842, he was favored with an appointment among
his native hills at New Providence, the place both of his natural
and spiritual birth. It is no small tribute to the worth of the
man, that the usual rule of itinerancy was reversed in his case,
and he was sent to labor among the very people who had known
him from his childhood, up through all the stages of his career
to manhood, and had also been familiar with his feebler earlier
efforts in public speaking, and where impressions of its power
must necessarily be below the real standard of the man. Here,
too, he gave the most faithful attention to his work, and saw
his reward in the general prosperity of the church under his
216 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

care. In 1843 and 1844, he was preacher in charge at Wood-
bridge, where he left also a large circle of appreciative friends.
In 1845 and 1846, he labored in Sharpstown and Woodstown.
Here the people esteemed him highly. The members of the
church still speak of his dignity, of his gentleness, of his tender-
ness, and of his deep and self-abasing humility, while some who
came into the church under his ministry, revere him as a father,
and all regard him asa friend. Brother Abraham Richmond, a
prominent official man in the charge, says of him, ‘‘The most
marked characteristic about him was his humelity. His views of
himself, his talents and ability were so low that they would
sometimes call forth the gentle remonstrances of the official men.
They feared that the people might be induced to take the same
low views of him that he took of himself, and which they knew
to be unfounded so far as their views compared him with his
fellow-laborers in the ministry. But their fears were ground-
less, for the people who knew the worth of the man were
brought to yet more serious reflection, by the contemplation of
his humility.’”’ The same authority says, ‘‘He was always
burdened with a sense of his responsibility for the congregation
to which he ministered. It was the theme of his conversa-
tion and his prayers. In the classes, his advice was tinctured
with it, his public exhortations were full of it, and even his pas-
toral prayers among the people were filled with the same feel-
ing, while in his public ministrations his flowing tears told with
powerful effect of the same absorbing thought.’’ Here his
ministry was blessed, and the Church feels its good effects even
still.

In 1847 and 1848 he traveled Swedesboro Circuit, a large and
important field of labor, where incessant effort and work were
essential to the successful prosecution of his ministry, and which
incessant effort was freely made. In 1849 and 1850 he was re-
turned to Staten Island and stationed at Bethel, renewing the
associations of earlier days, and zealously endeavoring to fulfil
the high duties of his calling. In 1851 he was sent to Hacketts-
town, which proved to be his last charge. He entered upon his
work with earnest zeal and hope, and planned largely for the
extension of the Redeemer’s kingdom. But ‘‘man proposes
MULFORD DAY. 217

and God disposes,’ and on the sixteenth of June in that year,
he was attacked with pneumonia, and ere the twenty-sixth of
the same month surrendered his life to him who gave it. In
these trying times the power of the gospel, which he had spent
the strength of his life in proclaiming, was found sufficient to
sustain him. When the death river chilled and the pains of
death gat hold of him, he exclaimed, ‘‘ How long it takes me to
get over this Jordan of death.’’ His ardent soul was longing for
the other shore whose prospect, the darkness which overhung the
veil had no power to dim,.and he uttered, ‘‘I am almost home,
I mean my heavenly home.’’ And with glory in his view, his
happy spirit took its flight to the heaven his soul had gazed
upon while dying.

Mulford Day was a man of marked character. His powerful
moral and religious nature, arising both from constitutional
make and deep acquantance with God, compelled a distinctness
from other men in this regard. His countenance was singularly
solemn, verging on sadness, and his religious feelings left their
impress unmistakably upon it. He was never morose, but
always solemn. In gay and frivolous company though he ut-
tered no reproof, his presence always brought the sense of con-
demnation. No words betrayed his belief in the sinfulness of
trifling sports, but it seemed impossible to trifle in the presence
of a man, who evidently had but recently come from God’s pre-
sence in his closet. More than once, when the exuberant
spirits of young preachers, at camp-meetings and other places,
had passed the bounds of strict propriety, and the reproofs of
their elders had been unheeded, the solemn gravity of his pre-
sence has hushed them into silence, and stimulated them to the
substitution of devotion in its place.

His voice shared the solemnity of his countenance. Said a
sturdy weather-beaten pilot on one of the Hudson River steam-
ers while his vision was dimmed by tears, ‘‘I was converted
under the preaching of Brother Day. When he left Haverstraw
he came up into the pilot-house, and putting his hand upon my
head said, ‘Brother, be faithful.’ The solemnity of his tones
will never be forgotten. Tempted as I have frequently been,
the recollection of his words has kept me from sin and apos-
218 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

tacy.”’ It also gave a powerful weight to his public ministra-
tions. No adult candidate for baptism ever heard him pro-
nounce the formula, ‘‘I baptize thee in the name of the Father,
and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost,’” without feeling that
the rite was something more than mere ceremony. In the re-
petition of the marriage service, the most careless and incon-
siderate were compelled by his very tones to feel that they were
entering their union at least in the fear of the Lord. Seldom
indeed could the bride refrain from tears or the bridegroom
feel otherwise than grave, when they left the presence of God's
servant, by whom they had been joined in the life-long ties of
holy matrimony. :

At the sacramental table it was the same. Unworthy persons
were deterred from approaching by a voice which seemed to
come from the realities of a spirit world, while those who re-
ceived the sacred elements in sincerity, found their power of
appreciation deepened from the same influence, and few ever
received it from him who had not reason to call him blessed.

This intense seriousness of expression was algo a strong ele-
ment of his pulpit power, When the first words of the exposi-
tion of some great truth contained in his text, fell upon the ears
of the congregation, they produced a more than common effect.
The listener who had formed his taste from hearing the greatest
preachers forgot his models—the captious critic laid aside his
rules—the learned attendant upon a learned ministry buried his
contempt of ignorant Methodism—fortified sceptics came out of
their intrenchments—hardened sinners abandoned their hos-
tility to the word, and apostates their defiant attitudes when he
spoke, for they were made to feel that the ‘‘ Lord was in his
holy temple,’ and that the ‘‘earth must keep silence before
him.”

In speaking of his deportment, one who loved him says,
‘* Such solemnity as his, approaching gloom, and which some-
times rendered its possessor unhappy, would have been unlovely
had it not fortunately been free from even a tinge of misanthropy.
It was as pure as that of Elijah. His moments of exhilarating
joy and hope were rare, but when they came, they threw over
his soul’s features such lights as the setting sun pours upon the
MULFORD DAY. 219

retreating clouds. There is no transition of feeling so touching
as that of deep reverence when it banishes its fear and melts
into liquid love. Many who have stood beside him in the altar
while laboring for souls recollect with pleasure, these rare mo-
ments when his faith triumphed over every fear, and his soul
was filled with celestial rapture.”’

‘* He was a man singularly free from the lower motives which
usually actuate our humanity. The ambition which often leads
to prominence and greater influence found no place in him.
During the eighteen sessions that he occupied his place in the
Conference he never made a speech or took any prominent part
in its discussions. He shrank modestly from the Presiding
Elder’s office or a station inacity. Impressed with a nice ap-
preciation of the merit and worth of his brother preachers, yet
none could sooner detect their weaknesses than he, while he con-
scientiously forbore from making those weaknesses a subject of
discussion. To his younger colleagues he was frank and open,
privately pointing out to them their faults of life or manner, but
pursued the same unvarying rule of never speaking to others of
these faults, which were only named to their possessors in hope
of their removal. Z

His religious experience was of a most solid character. Of its
power there can exist no doubt. His own utterances in this
matter are too emphatic to be misunderstood. Holiness of
heart and the fellowship of the Spirit were asserted by him to be
facts of constant reality in his spiritual life.

“As a husband and father, he modeled his practice upon the
precepts of the gospel.

His early educational privileges were only those of the com-
mon schools, and he did notacquire an accurate knowledge of
the rules and principles of the English language till he was thirty
years of age. As soon as he began to preach he made himself
thoroughly conversant with the outlines of history and the-
ology, studying and remembering such books as Rollin and
Josephus. His library contained the works of the standard
Methodist authors, and their contents were carefully read and
digested. His acquaintance with the Bible was as great as a
retentive memory added to a philosophic power of generalization
220 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

could give him. His mind was stored with great doctrines and
moral facts, while light literature he never allowed himself to
read.

Brother Day was a successful man. In no appointment did
he labor where his ministry was not a blessing. ‘‘ Methodism
in New Jersey is probably as much indebted to him for its solidity
and purity as to any other of its deceased ministers. He did not
study so much to mould mind ascharacter. Heswayed the moral
nature rather than the intellectual, and disseminated principles
rather than opinions. Just as his own great conscientiousness
moulded him, so he stood to mould others and make every man
a preacher of righteousness unto himself. It has been said in
reference to him, ‘‘ The results of a great man’s life are what he
does. The results of a good man’s life spring from what he 7s,”’
and this latter character applied especially to him. The success-
ful power of his ministry can perhaps be illustrated by its results
in New Providence, his native place. Night after night scores
of penitents crowded the altars, and many witnesses, living still,
refer to him as the instrument through whom they were awakened
and brought to God. No man’s ministry was ever blessed in
that appointment to a greater extent than his, and probably
no minister ever labored among them who was more highly
esteemed. His value to the church may be estimated from the
fact that during his eighteen years of service he received into
her communion over a thousand souls.

As a preacher he was calm, but not unimpassioned. One who
was converted through his instrumentality, says of him: ‘‘ His
face preached—his voice in its ordinary tones preached—the
tears that came from his heart when he was silent preached—
and all preached to the heart.’’ There was a power of tender-
ness about his ministrations which forced its way into the soul.
Men attended his ministry to go away better than they came.
Without any use of the machinery of the professed revivalist,
his ministry was yet productive of sweeping revivals, and his
churches always assumed a purer and more devoted caste. He
did not seek to charm or entrance. Poetic flights, impassioned
appeals, and irresistible argument were with him exchanged for
the one single faculty: that aroused men’s consciences and led
MULFORD DAY. 221

them to faith in Christ, and while it blessed the believer, melted
the sinner into penitence. It was logical, clear, and simple; the
meaning of his message could not be mistaken, nor the ardent
earnestness with which he pressed it be misunderstood. He
told the story of the cross both with simplicity and pathos, and
the longer a congregation remained beneath his ministry the
more deeply they felt its power.

He now rests from his labors, leaving behind him the record
of a stainless life and a successful ministry as a precious heritage
to his bereaved family, who remain behind him following in his
steps. Of that family the Rev. George B. Day, a popular and
talented minister, occupies the place made vacant by his father’s
death. ©
292 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

REV. ZERUBBABEL GASKILL.

THE subject of this brief memoir was a native of Newport
Neck, Cumberland County, N. J., and‘was born June 10, 1805.
He took the Christian name of his father, who died when he was
an infant. Of the father no account can be given, but God
rendered this bereavement an inestimable blessing to the stricken
widow. By it she was led to a sense of her condition as a sin-
ner, to seek a saving interest in Christ and a home in the M. E.
Church. She remained a consistent Christian to the end of life,
and then at the advanced age of eighty-two or eighty-three, was
transferred to her home in heaven. Nor was this long life in
vain. God so answered her prayers and blessed her pious care
to the Christian nurture of her son, that he sought religion at
the early age of eleven. He did not, however, join the church
till in his seventeenth year. Yet he did not backslide, but main-
tained a consistent demeanor amid the alluring snares that every-
where beset the slippery paths of childhood and youth.

His early educational advantages were very limited. It is said
that he was sent only ‘‘a little while at a time to a small country
school. Yet he made rapid progress in learning.’’ Taking
both parts of this statement as true, they furnish a clear pre-
sage of his after career; for the child that could make rapid
progress in learning, by no other helps than a small country
school afforded forty or fifty years ago, and that attended only a
little while at a time, displayed both studious habits and vigor
of intellect. At the age of eighteen he began to teach school,
which he continued at intervals for several years. During part
of the time he farmed in the summer and taught in the winter.

He did not enter the itinerant ranks till in his twenty-eighth
year. Prior to this he had labored to some extent as an ex-
horter, but had not been a local preacher. He seems to have
ZERUBBABEL GASKILL. 223

been much afflicted and retarded by diffidence. Perhaps this is
the explanation of his delay in joining the church. It certainly
delayed his entering upon the great work to which God un-
doubtedly called him. After much hesitation he began his
ministry in 1833 on Salem Circuit, under the direction of the
Presiding Elder. The next spring he was received on trial in
the Philadelphia Conference, and was elected to full member-
ship and to deacon’s orders in 1836. When the New Jersey
Conference was constituted, he was left in the old Conference,
but at the end of one year was transferred to the new one, and in
1838 ordained an elder. He occupied the following fields: 1834,
Moorestown, New Jersey; 1835, Smyrna, Delaware; 1836,
Caroline, Maryland; 1837 and 1838, Bargaintown, New Jersey ;
1839, Crosswicks; 1840, Crosswicks and Bethel Mission; 1841
and 1842, Middletown Point; 1843 and 1844, Quakertown;
1845 and 1846, Haddonfield; 1847 and 1848, Blackwoodtown ;
1849 and 1850, Tuckerton; 1851 and 1852, Clarksboro.

Nothing from his pen has come into our possession. But few
of his relatives are yet living, while those of them who could be
found were able to furnish but little information. Still, though
our facts are meager, we have learned enough to show that his
whole career was marked by a steady aim, a devout and digni-
fied bearing and genuine sincerity and faithfulness. Rev. Dr.
Quigly, with whom he traveled Caroline Circuit, says, ‘‘ My
personal recollections are clear and strong concerning him, as a
humble follower of Christ, a faithful minister of the gospel and
a pleasant colleague. His personal appearance did not at first
sight, make a favorable impression, but when heard and known,
he made a good impression, where he labored. His character
and standing as a man, a Christian and a minister, were unim-
peached and unimpeachable. I considered him a very good
preacher. He labored very acceptably in this region.”’

Though genuinely modest, and diffident even to a fault, yet in
clear cases of duty, he was fearless and unflinching. In this
respect he imitated the great apostle, when he said, ‘‘ None of
these things move me, neither count I my life dear unto myself,
so that I might finish my course with joy, and the ministry
which I have received of the Lord Jesus to testify the gospel
224 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

of the grace of God.’’ In one instance, at least, he displayed
the martyr spirit, with an unobtrusive fidelity and courage,
which challenges our admiration.

He found the Quakertown Circuit in a condition so deplora-
ble, that there were scarcely enough living to bury the dead.
Bacchus, that fell demon of discord, ‘‘said in his heart, I will
ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of
God: I will sit also, upon the mount of the congregation, in the
sides of the North: I will ascend above the heights of the clouds;
I will be like the Most High.”’ Isa. xiv. 13. And he did get
the upper hand of many of the stars of the congregation, 7. e.,
the leading men, and also in the place of the Most High; for
these men discarded minister and church and God, all at the bid-
ding of Bacchus. Mr. Gaskill prudently but fearlessly opened
the batteries of truth against this citadel of Satan. Men are
always extremely sensitive when conscience is silenced at the
demands of interest or self-indulgence. This was the case now,
and their combinations and show of fight looked formidable.
They first tried by raising a storm of popular indignation, to
silence the stupid, one-ideaed fanatic, who was capable of the
senseless temerity of insisting that Christians ought not to make,
sell, or drink rum! And they did succeed in awaking the ele-
ments. ‘‘The rain descended, the floods came, and the winds
blew.’’ But, like the sturdy oak, he only bent to the blast, till
its fierceness was spent, and then stood up as firm and defiant as
before. Failing in this they changed their tack and raised the
ery of ‘‘ persecution.’’ And if their version had been reliable,
it would have been true, that they were the most thoroughly
abused men in the land! This also failing, and finding that
neither words nor tufts of grass would do, they tried the virtue
of stones.

Two trustees of the church at Everetstown demanded the key
of the sexton and closed the house against him. For the sake
of their descendants their names are omitted from this page.
But Amos Opedyke, a trustee, backed by others, and aided by
Wm. Johnson, a Presbyterian, who made a key, opened it for
him to preach on the subject in question. Being foiled again, a
mob took the matter in hand, and tried the persuasive power of
ZERUBBABEL GASKILL. 225

rotten eggs and other missiles, together with street fires, and
yelling and whooping like a pack of savages. Fortunately for
the minister and the cause, the ladies of some of the malcontents
attended the service, and received in part the application of the
egg argument. Meanwhile the appeal of the speaker was so
calm, logical, and convincing as to enlist the favor of the better
part of the people, and thus to secure a triumph. The turbu-
lent party then threatened to waylay and lynch him, if he at-
tempted to fill an appointment at another place. But he did
meet the engagement, and that, too, without being maltreated.
These expedients failing, they next resorted to the desperate al-
ternative of an attempt to starve him out. When told of this
design, he replied, ‘‘They might as well try to starve a bear.’’
Nor was this a vain boast. The sum he received cannot be
named, but he was driven to perplexing straits. Friends aided
him, he exchanged wheat flour for Indian meal because it would
go farther, sold part of their scanty furniture, and thus procured
the needed pittance for his family. At the same time he stood
up to his convictions with manly and unflinching firmness to the
end of his term. I cannot say whether or not members of the
church participated in the mob or threats of violence. They did
the other things charged, and were the occasion of these being
done. And when it was found that he could neither be moved
from his position nor driven from the field, several withdrew
from the church. And as it seemed necessary to show their faith
by their works, one went to keeping tavern, became and died a
drunkard, while others became more bold and shameless in their
tippling habits than before. Some lived to lament their folly,
and one, at least, has since died sustained by hope, but others
still tread crooked paths.

But these were not the only or heaviest trials that fell to his
lot. Life’s closing year was covered by dark clouds, which cast
over him gloomy and lowering shadows. They came from un-
usual domestic afflictions, which pressed upon him with a weight
to which his strength was not equal. And though his faith did
not fail nor his hope grow dim, yet his shattered frame could not
long sustain the throbbings of a broken heart. He had met the
rum demon with heroic boldness, had faced and defied the taunts

18
226 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

and missiles of the mob and their threats of violence, had sacri-
ficed his salary, stripped his house of needed furniture, scanted
the table and wardrobe of his family, and had come out of the
conflict with a good conscience and robust health. But this
poignant shaft, coming from an unexpected quarter, found him
unprepared and unequal to the hard necessities of the trying
hour.

A short time before his death, he left the charge, entirely
broken down, and repaired to the house of his brother Charles,
in Philadelphia. Here, as the Conference Obituary shows, he
closed life’s checkered scenes in full prospect of an inheritance
with the saints in light.

‘“The text selected for his funeral discourse, Acts xi. 24, ‘ For
he was a good man, full of the Holy Ghost and of faith,’ is a
very fit illustration of his character as a minister. His life ex-
emplified the text. Consistency and fervor were marked char-
acteristics in him. We do not know that he possessed what
some have called the divine art, yet he loved sacred song. One
Sabbath, when near his end, while contemplating the holy tem-
ples of the Lord, and the gathering together of the people, he
repeated these expressive lines:

“Thousands, 0 Lord of hosts, this day
Around thine altars meet,
And tens of thousands throng to pay
Their homage at thy feet.”

‘“‘ Deprived am I,”’ but continued :

“T may not to thy courts repair,
Yet here thou surely art;
Lord, consecrate a home of prayer
In my surrendered heart.”

Contemplating death, he exclaimed,

“ How shall I meet this foe,
Whose frown my soul alarms?
Dark horror sits upon his brow,
And vict’ry waits his arms.”

He answered,
ZERUBBABEL GASKILL. 227

“But with an eye of faith,
Piercing beyond the grave,
I see that friend who conquered death,
Whose arm alone can save.”

In conversation with a brother in the ministry, a little before
his departure, he was very happy and praised the Lord; and
when raised up a little, he said, ‘‘Let me go! Hallelujah!
Praise the Lord!’’ and calmly folding his hands upon his bosom,
he ceased to breathe. In this ecstatic frame of mind he passed
from trial and suffering to his home in heaven, Nov. 13, 1852,
in the forty-eighth year of his age and twentieth of his ministry.

As a preacher Zerubbabel Gaskill occupied a very creditable
position. The qualities of his mind were substantial, and his
reasoning faculties of a superior grade. Had imagination given
wings to his thoughts, so as to render his powers of description
and graces of style equal to the cogency of his logic, his pulpit
abilities would have been decidedly superior. He was generally
acceptable, frequently popular, and always useful in his fields of
labor. Many were brought to Christ through his instrumen-
tality. But his efficiency did not consist alone in this nor in his
pulpit performances. He was affable and genial in social life,
and at the same time maintained a dignity, gravity, and thought-
fulness befitting the man, the Christian, and the minister. He
thus wielded an undivided influence in aid of his ministerial du-
ties. Nor did that religion, which by precept and example he
commended to others, fail him in life’s severest trials, nor in the
dying hour, but lighted his pathway in the dark valley and bore
his soul in triumph to the home of the saved.
228 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

REV. J. F. CROUCH.

Tats devoted man of God, was born May 27th, 1804, at aplace
called, Head of North-east river, Cecil Co., Maryland.

His paternal grandfather was of German extraction, and
possessed a valuable estate on the Elk river in the same county.
He was an ardent patriot, and, during the Revolutionary war,
sacrificed his entire fortune to his country, but, like many other
noble-hearted men, gave it cheerfully, rejoicing that he had
it in his power to aid in securing the blessings of liberty and
equality to his descendants.

His maternal ancestry were English, and among the first
settlers in the colony, occupying a large tract of land on the same
river, known by the name of Johnson’s Addition, by which appel-
lation it is still distinguished.

Both his parents were members of the Protestant Episcopal
church, and illustrated their membership ina life of consistent and
devoted piety. Undertheir faithful instructions, and godly exam-
ple, he became firmly impressed both with the reality of religion,
and the beauty of areligiouslife. These two facts, under the power
of the Holy Spirit acted constantly upon his nature, and led him to
write in regard to his early experience, ‘‘I know nothing of
that ignorance of sin for which some plead. Since I could tell
my right hand from my left, I have been conscious of inward re-
proof for every sin of my life. From earliest recollection I have
been the subject of deep conviction and alarm in my conscience
combined with an awful dread of the judgment day. These
convictions followed me and spoiled all earthly pleasures.”’
He attempted to stifle them by resorting, on Sabbath days,
to the companionship and sports of the young people of
the neighborhood, but seldom succeeded in so doing. On one
of these occasions the conversation between him and one of his
J. F. CROUCH. 229

associates assumed, unintentionally, a religious character, and
they found themselves discussing the judgment day, when the
great hail storm of the ‘‘ Revelation’’ should fall upon them.

Just at that moment a terrific storm of thunder and lightning,
rain and hail burst upon them, impressing with its awful gran-
deur the fact they had just been contemplating, and they
made earnest promises to God of amended life, which, alas! only
waited the advent of sunshine to be broken, but the impression
was never forgotten.

At the session of the Conference of 1819, William Forbert and
John Woolson were appointed to Cecil Circuit, and came to their
work in the demonstration of the Spirit and of power. In
August of that year they held a camp-meeting near Elkton, at
which such powerful ministers as Ezekiel Cooper and Joseph
Rusling preached. Many persons were awakened, a large num-
ber converted, and the whole church revived. He says, ‘‘ My
own convictions were pungent, but the enemy raged fearfully
within. Torid myself of tormenting reflections, I joined the
ranks of the persecutors, and employed myself outside the circle
in hurling missiles at the colored people as they passed along the
highway. On Sabbath I returned home to allow my elder
brother to come. When alone, my misery became almost insup-
portable. When I returned to the camp, they were marching
around it preparatory to closing, and among the ranks of the
saints I saw my brother, sister and an intimate associate. It
made me tremble to see this, but I still resisted.

‘¢ After this there was no peace for me athome. The warmand
ardent worship of the family was misery to me, and I usually
fled to the barn for retirement. Among my companions I spoke
sneeringly of the Methodist church, for which one of them, un-
godly as he was, so strongly reproved me, that I ceased, and be-
gan to be thoughtful. This was on Sabbath, and on the follow-
ing Wednesday evening I attended a prayer-meeting, where my
heart was greatly softened. For the first time I cherished these
feelings, and resolved to give my heart to God. I drank deeply
of the wormwood and the gall, but it was soon accompanied with
a lively faith in the Friend of sinners. God accepted the faith,
and it was accounted to me for righteousness. Everything
230 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

seemed to have undergone a change, and I was abled with re-
joicing, and,

‘Could not believe
That I ever should grieve,
That I ever should suffer again!’

I soon however found severe temptations, but found also that
‘the Lord knew how to deliver the godly out of temptation.’

I was ouly about fifteen, but felt deeply concerned for the
spiritual welfare of sinners around me. All leisure moments
were spent in reading, attendance upon religious worship, prayer
and meditation. At the decline of the excitement attendant upon
the revival, the love of many waxed cold, but though astonished
at this, my faith was in no degree shaken, and I toiled more
earnestly than ever to maintain my integrity, and on the 19th
of September, 1819, united with the Methodist Episcopal
church.”’

He now felt deeply, and toiled faithfully for souls. His warm,
ardent, and nervous nature employed itself unceasingly in warn-
ing sinners to flee the wrath to come. The judgment was ever
before him, and their exposure to its penalties compelled him,
day and night, to warn them faithfully and with tears. In pri-
vate conversations, in public meetings, everywhere, he urged
upon them their danger, and besought them to return peni-
tently to God. He came fresh to his work from communion
with the Lord, and many could not resist the wisdom and power
with which he spake. This continued for five years, when the
church publicly recognized his ability and devotion, by licensing
him to exhort. This official recognition stimulated his zeal yet
more, and emboldened him to expand his thoughts in giving to
the people a reason for the hope that was within him, and he
soon developed capacities which induced the church to add to his
power for usefulness by assigning to him, in 1831, the position
of a local preacher. From this hour the necessity of an entire
devotion to the work of the ministry was a feeling interwoven
with his life. It was a work of toil and sacrifice. Large circuits
were to be traveled with but slender pecuniary recompense.
J. F. CROUCH. 231

The work of incessant preaching was exhausting to a slender
constitution, the sweet associations of domestic felicity must be
largely abandoned, the world’s fair prospects must be ignored,
but ‘‘none of these things moved him,” and he united with the
Philadelphia Annual Conference, on probation, and was ap-
pointed to Dover Circuit, Delaware, on which, though with
much trembling, he preached with acceptability and useful-
ness.

In 1834 and 1835 he traveled Gloucester Circuit, N. J. His
ministry here was eminently successful, and his personal popu-
larity was perhaps unsurpassed by any of the numerous ministers
who had preached the gospel on that classic ground of Method-
ism. Many years have elapsed since that time, but the remem-
brance of his ministry is still as ointment poured forth, among
the older members of the church in that locality. In 1836 he
labored in Cohansey Mission, and gave to the feeble interests of the
Church a substantial support. In December of that year he mar-
ried Miss Margaret Synnott, a lady who accompanied him the
rest of his pilgrimage, and was his valued companion and coun-
selor.

In 1837 he exercised his ministry over a region of country now
filled with numerous circuits and stations, but then known sim-
ply as Cape May Circuit. The Bishop had assigned hinras ju-
nior preacher upon the circuit, a young man who fell into evil
habits, and was afterwards expelled. He took a deep interest in
the reclamation of this young preacher, and, after preaching,
stood out in the cold, chilly night air, hour after hour pleading
with the misguided young man to forsake his ways, and assume
a better course of life. When he left the place, his intense men-
tal anxiety, added to the chill of the suddenly arrested perspira-
tion, sowed within his frame the seeds of the consumption which
steadily germinated and brought forth their deadly fruit, until, a
few years later, they sent his body to its grave, and his soul to its
heaven. In one aspect, it is sad to contemplate a noble and use-
ful man stricken down because of the errors of another, but in a
different one it is pleasing to record that his life went down as
the result of an effort to reclaim a wanderer from God and restore
him to the fold.
232 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

The fatal effects of his imprudence were not immediately ap-
parent, and in 1839-40 he was appointed to Cumberland Circuit,
where a ministry of power left its impression indelibly upon the
people. In 1841 he was sent to Medford, in which place he la-
bored with some success for a year, when his health, previously
broken, gave way entirely, and he was returned the next year as
supernumerary. While he resided there, holding that relation
to the Conference and cut off from all active means of support,
Brother William Alston, now of Bordentown, relates, that on one
cold Christmas night, after all the money received from Conference
except one quarter of a dollar and a one cent piece, was gone,
his wife informed him that they were out of flour, and gave him
a vessel in which to procure a supply. As he started for the
store, a man met him at the gate, who stated to him that his
wife and children had eaten nothing all day, and were then en-
tirely without food, and asked him if he could not put him in
the way to obtain some.

As Brother Crouch saw the tears coursing down the man’s hun-
ger-stricken features, his heart, ever responsive to suffering, was
moved, and he thrust his hand into his pocket, determining to
give him the piece of money which his fingers should first grasp:
He drew out his hand, and found that he had drawn with it the
quarter; and at once gave it to the man. It was no use now to
go to the store, and he silently returned into the house. His
wife asked him for the flour, and he replied by saying that he
had given his last twenty-five cent piece to a poor man, and had
but one penny left. The poor woman burst into tears, but he
sat quiet and composed, perfectly happy in his mind, expecting
to see the salvation of God. So calm were his feelings that he
took a book and commenced to read. At about nine o’clock a
sleigh drove up to the door containing a couple who wished to
be married. The ceremony was soon performed, and the happy
couple left, the gentleman presenting him, as they did so, with
a five dollar gold piece, which relieved his immediate wants, and
filled his soul with rejoicing and gratitude.

During the next summer, three persons, one of whom was the
narrator of this incident, were conversing together about Me-
thodist ministers, when one of them remarked, ‘‘I esteem Mr.

N
J. F. CROUCH. 233

Crouch very highly. I ought to doso, for he married me.”
‘When, and where?’’ said Mr. Alston. ‘‘On last Christmas
night, at Medford,” was the reply. The peculiar circumstances
connected with the Christmas marriage had been narrated to
him previously by Brother Crouch, and he felt interested to
know why the gentleman went to him at Medford to get
married, when it was so great a distance from his home. As
the story proceeded, he learned that the first arrangement was,
to go to Rev. Mr. Dandy, at Mount Holly: that when nearly
there, the lady said, suddenly, ‘‘I feel as if I ought to have Mr.
Crouch to marry us.’’ ‘‘ Why,”’ said he, in surprise, ‘‘are you

acquainted with him?’ ‘‘No,’’ said she, ‘‘not particularly:
but I have heard him preach several times, and think he is a
very good man.” ‘‘But,’’ said the gentleman, ‘‘the night is
very cold, and it is six miles further to ride.” ‘‘JI know it,”

said she, ‘‘ but I feel as if I must go to him.’’ Of course, under
such circumstances the lady could not be denied, and they came
to Mr. Crouch and were married, as before stated, and presented
him with the five dollars which came so opportunely in his time
of need.

Upon further inquiry it was ascertained that the hour when
the lady felt impelled to change her mind as to the officiating
minister, corresponded exactly with the time when Brother
Crouch gave his last quarter, to relieve the family of the starv-
ing man.

Incidents like these were spread over his history, and contri-
buted largely to imbue him with that unfaltering trust in the
Lord, both as a God of providence and grace, which never
deserted him in the darkest and most trying hours of his history,
and which kept him serene and hopeful, when all was apparent
storm and wreck around him.

While residing here, another incident of a still more remark-
able character, and proving itself to be of God, occurred to him.

The venerable James Moore, of precious memory, whose
services in the cause of early Methodism cannot easily be over-
estimated, and whose purity of heart and life secured the respect
of all who knew him, was visiting there. His health had long
been declining, and he was an object of special solicitude to Bro-
234 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

ther Crouch. The latter was one day walking in his garden,
when suddenly, sweet and seraphic music filled all the air above
him, the green leaves of the trees seemed alive with it, and the
golden lighttrembled under its power, everything appeared as spell-
bound, and his heart was entranced with its celestial sweetness.
In looking upward to see whence these ravishing sounds pro-
ceeded, it seemed asif a body of angels were passing over, who in
some inexplicable manner impressed him that they were con-
veying old Brother Moore to his eternal home, leaving the
impressions of their glory ineffaceably upon his mind and heart
forever. Subsequent inquiries ascertained that at precisely that
moment, the spirit of James Moore passed from earth to heaven,
and there can be no doubt that God took him Elijah-like, in
celestial chariots with angel bands to the place of the blessed,
and that he allowed the vision for the purpose of confirming and
rewarding the faith of the godly minister who witnessed it.
“Heaven waits not the last moment, but owns its friends on
THIS side death,’’ and makes their death ablessing. His super-
numerary relationship continued for 1842, 1843 and 1844, when
his health being much improved he resumed the active work,
and in 1845 and 1846, served the church at Winslow, where
his devoted spirit impelled him to the performance of more
labor than was consistent with his state of health, and at the
close of his term there, he again regretfully retired to the super-
numerary ranks, where he remained till the Conference of 1849,
when he once more attempted the work of the ministry in
Sharpstown and Woodstown, where his efficient services are
still gratefully remembered by the people. In 1851 his broken
constitution sank again, and he sorrowfully abandoned the work,
never more to resume it upon earth. After this he resided at
Glassboro, until the 23d of September, 1852, when his life of
labor and suffering closed in peaceful triumph. In the early
part of that year he observed toa friend, ‘‘If I am not to
preach any more, my work is done, for I feel myself to be a man
of but one work, which is, to preach Jesus and him crucified,”
His sufferings were excruciating, but a holy patience and resigna-
.tion crowned them all with victory. In the beginning of this
J. F. CROUCH. 2385

last illness he said, ‘‘I have not a doubt of my acceptance with
God, nor have I had, at any time through my afflictions. My
sky is clear. Sweet Jesus, sweet Jesus.’”’ Rev. J. Loudenslager,
who witnessed his dying hours, speaks of them as exhibitions of
glorious triumph. With both worlds apparent to his view, his
attention would turn first to one and then to the other, as one
who possessed both. The same communion with the other world
which had been vouchsafed to him before, was given to him
again. His departed children met his dying vision, and as they
appeared before him, he kept turning to his weeping wife and
exclaiming with ineffable rapture, ‘‘ Little lambs, little lambs.”’
They asked him if he was happy, and as calmly as if speaking
on an ordinary topic he replied, ‘‘ Yes, I am happy,’’ and in this
sweet frame of mind he fell asleep.

In the Conference obituary he is delineated as a holy and
devoted minister with a talent above mediocrity. His power lay
principally in enlightening, rather than dazzling his hearers. He
penetrated the truths of the gospel, and presented them in an
easy and familiar style, so that the feeblest and most uncultivated
of his hearers could grasp their meaning. In doctrine he was
purely Wesleyan. His manner was consoling and encouraging to
the penitent, but intensely alarming to all classes of sinners.
With boldness and earnestness he exposed the errors and back-
slidings of the church, and the danger of ungodly men.

His sermons were carefully prepared, full of points calculated
to alarm the conscience, and delivered in a style so perfectly
simple and natural, that it was impossible not to be interested in
them. One of his hearers said, ‘‘ He always preached as though
he was full of matter, and never humdrummed on a text to try
and squeeze a sermon out of it.’’ His important propositions
were fixed upon the mind either by the use of wnusual terms or
illustrations. He jelé deeply himself, and the feeling usually
communicated itself to those who formed his auditory, and, taken
altogether, he was a noble type of a successful Methodist
preacher.

His social qualities were of a very high order. He conversed
with ease and fluency upon almost every subject. He never
wearied by tediousness or degenerated by levity. His life had
236 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

been rich in incident, and his habits those of close observation,
and from these, his philosophic mind had gathered valuable
results which it was his delight to impart, and which made his
society an object eagerly sought after by all classes of men.

As a friend he was warm and faithful. He was very tender
of the reputation of his brethren in the ministry, and exceedingly
careful to make no unfavorable impression regarding their talents
or usefulness. At one time he had spoken unfavorably of the
abilities ofa brother, but subsequently hearing him preach, became
convinced that he had done him injustice, and wrote at once to
the brother to whom the remark had been made, acknowledging
its injustice and expressing his sorrow for ever having given it
utterance. The character of a brother was safe in his hands,
and his friendships embraced the minutest opportunities of bene-
fiting their object.

As a Christian he had more than an ordinary experience. The
spiritual world was sometimes revealed to him, as is not com-
mon toman. Such special revelations as have been alluded to,
were bestowed upon him, while in the more important one of
the “‘ witness of the Spirit,’”’ his soul had full knowledge of God.
For a long time he enjoyed entire sanctification, though he did
not so fully profess it as his later convictions taught him to be-
lieve he should have done. His communion with God lifted
him above earthly cares and sorrows, and enabled him to live
with his conversation in heaven. From that experience he lived,
from that experience he preached, and with that experience his
soul was finally lifted to heaven.

May his mantle fall upon his brethren who still remain below,
and stimulate them to a successful emulation of such a minister
as John F. Crouch.

Norz.—The writer desires to acknowledge his indebtedness to Rev. J. S.
Hiesler, for a large portion of the material from which the above sketch
was prepared.
WILLIAM SMITH. 237

REV. WILLIAM SMITH.

AFTER careful research we are left without sufficient materi-
als, from which to prepare a proper memoir of this venerable
man. Neither the place nor date of his birth—the name, occu-
pation, nor circumstances of his parents—any of the surround-
ings of his early life—the place, date, nor manner of his conver-
sion, or call to the ministry, nor, indeed anything respecting his
early history can be given. He was a tailor by trade, but it is
not known where or with whom he served his apprenticeship.
He was favored with some school advantages, or else was a care-
ful student privately, for he acquired some mental discipline, a
fair knowledge of his mother tongue, and a considerable range
of theological and general literature. At different times and
places, after he ceased to be ‘‘effective,’’ he taught Greenleaf’s
English Grammar, of which he was an amateur, and became an
expert master. His appearance, together with the date of his
entering the Conference, indicate an early conversion and call
to the ministry. But the record of his name in the minutes for
1802, is the first definite item in his history that we are able to
furnish. His fields of labor were the following :—

1802. Annamessex, David James, William Smith.

1803. Caroline, Ephraim Chambers, William Smith.

1804. Northampton, Richard Lyon, William Smith.

1805. Ontario, William Smith, Lawrence Riley.

1806. Seneca, William Hill, William Smith.

1807. Salem, William Mills, William Smith.

1808. Cumberland, William Smith, Charles Reed.

1809. Elizabethtown, William Smith, Thomas Stratton, John
Sharpley.

1810. Freehold, William Smith, John Woolson.

1811. Salem, William Smith, Daniel Ireland.
238 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

1812. Cumberland, William Smith, Joseph Bennett.

1813. Gloucester, Daniel Ireland, William Smith.

1814. Freehold, Joseph Totton, William Smith.

1815. Asbury, Manning Force, William Smith.

~1816. Sussex, David Bartine, William Smith. é

1817. Gloucester, Solomon Sharp, William Smith.

1818. Bergen, Joseph Lybrand, William Smith.

Tn 1819 he located on account of feeble health, but in 1825 his
name re-appears as supernumerary at Queen Ann’s and Centre-
ville. Then at Caroline, and then Greensboro alone. In 1828
it is not assigned to any place, but in 1829 to Lewistown; 1830,
Accomac; 1831, Freehold. In 1832 he became superannuated,
and so remained during life.

No literary remains have come into our hands, and it is now
so long since the close of his effective ministry that but few items
respecting it can be gathered. A number of elderly people have
been found who remember the man and his ministry, and can
give their impressions respecting both, but no facts. During his
first term on Salem Circuit a revival occurred, which for many
years was spoken of as ‘‘ the great revival.’’ This was one of
those gracious, all-pervading outpourings of the Holy Spirit that
but rarely occurs. ‘‘ There were two conversions in particular
that occasioned considerable remark. They were brothers, both
large men, who had been great sinners, but became characterized
as large stones in the building.”

Mr. Smith was twice married, first to the daughter of a Mr.
John Smith, of Salem Co. She lived but a few years, and left
one child, who became the wife of Mr. Henry Barber, but also
died early. Mr. Smith remained a widower for many years, but
in the fall of 1830 he was married to the widow of Rev. James
Quail, late of the Philadelphia Conference. He then settled at
Long Branch, Monmouth Co., N. J. Mrs. Smith, who is highly
spoken of, died Sept. 26, 1834. She left three children, only
one of whom is yet living, and is married and settled in one of
the north-western States. While at the Branch, his occupation
was farming, but after the death of his wife he broke up honse-
keeping and spent the balance of his life chiefly in Philadelphia
and New York.
WILLIAM SMITH. 239

We have not the means of forming a definite estimate of his
character and abilities. We infer that he was accorded a medium
rank as a preacher. His manner was not ina high degree im-
passioned, but grave, earnest, and impressive. His style was
lucid, argumentative and convincing. His discourses were in-
structive, entertaining, and profitable. He studied to show him-
self ‘‘approved unto God, a workman that needed not to be
ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.’’ He felt a decided
aversion to jumping, shouting, and all such modes of manifest-
ing religious joy, deeming them disorderly extravagances. This
interfered with his acceptability in some places. But without
being specially popular, he was generally acceptable and useful.

He is said to have been a strict disciplinarian. This fact de-
serves to be mentioned to his credit. The Church is now deeply
suffering the evil consequences of a loose exercise of discipline.
But the responsibility for this discreditable state of things must
be traced toa later period than that of the ministry of Mr. Smith
and his cotemporaries.

In some respects our subject seems to have been poorly fitted
for the trials and hardships of an itinerant at that period. His
social and domestic feelings were strong and controlling, so that
a companion and a home were almost as essential to his comfort
as food and raiment. Yet in the inscrutable providence of God
he was doomed to spend most of a long life withouteither. This
bore hard upon his spirits, and was a constant source of annoy-
ance and disquiet. His first wife was soon taken from him.
Then, for some cause, now inexplicable, he reluctantly remained
a homeless wanderer for many years. From these causes, and
perhaps partly from natural temperament, his spirits were often
depressed, and his head bowed down, so that he had many de-
sponding and gloomy seasons. Nor was he favored with robust
health. This, doubtless, added to the depression of his feelings,
while this very depression made his health seem poorer to him-
self than it did to others. Yet it is conceded on all hands, so
far as we have been able to learn, that while he was effective, he
labored earnestly with some good measure of success. The list
of his appointments shows that he occupied a fair share of im-
portant and responsible positions. It is also evident that: from
240 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

first to last he maintained the life of a humble, consistent fol-
lower of Christ. Rev. Eliphalet Reed, who became acquainted
with him in 1819, and knew him well afterward, says, ‘‘ He was
a sincere Christian.’’ The closing scenes of his life give assur-
ance that this opinion was well founded. The following account
is taken from the Conference Obituary:

‘*Rev. Wm. Smith departed this life at Long Branch, Mon-
mouth Co., N. J., on Saturday, April 8, 1854.

‘In July, 1853, he visited Long Branch for the benefit of his
health, intending to remain there only during the warm seagon,
but it pleased the Lord to direct otherwise; his health, instead
of improving, continued to decline, until death released him
from his sufferings. On the Tuesday previous to his departure,
when interrogated as to his prospects for heaven, he responded
with strong emphasis, ‘My hope is full of immortality; my way
is clear; I have peace with God through our Lord Jesus
Christ.’ ”’

Evidently aware of his approaching dissolution, he was anxious
for the hour to arrive when he should depart and be with Christ.
His sufferings at times were great, but he endured them with
Christian fortitude and resignation. He expressed a warm af-
fection for his brethren in the ministry, especially of the New
Jersey Conference, remarking, ‘‘I shall meet with them no
more on earth, but I rejoice in the prospect of meeting them in
heaven.”’

From this time until Saturday he failed rapidly, when without
a struggle he fell ‘‘ asleep in Jesus.”’
CHARLES PITMAN. 241

REV. CHARLES PITMAN, D. D.

“ Who. that has sat beneath that silvery voice,
So like the chimings from a purer sphere,
Can e’er forget the compass of its power?
How rose and fell its thrillings on the ear,
Melting to tears the soul which earth had steeled,
As erst the flinty rock its lucent tide could yield.”

Cuar_eEs Prrman, son of Daniel and Hannah Pitman, was
born at Cookstown, Burlington Co., N. J., on the 9th day of
January, 1796. At the tender age of six years, his father died,
and he was left to the care of his widowed mother. Through
her pious teachings, his mind was early impressed with the evil
of sin, and the importance of a religious life.

His mother’s health was frail, and as she possessed but little
of this world’s goods, Charles was compelled, at a very early
period, to bear a part in obtaining a support. For a consider-
able time he worked upon the farm of Daniel Smith, an old
Quaker gentleman, whose only fault with the lad, seems to have
been, that he loved his books, and occupied too much of his time
in reading. After leaving the farm, he was engaged in the snuff
mill of William Foulks, at New Egypt.

When quite a youth, and while his mother’s teachings were
yet fresh upon his mind, he went to Philadelphia, on a visit.
He was soon invited by some of his young friends who were
fond of theatrical exhibitions, to accompany them to their
favorite place of resort. He yielded to their solicitations, but
as soon as he reached the scene of these forbidden pleasures,
conscience commenced its workings, he saw his mother’s tears,
he heard her spirit groanings and her prayers, a sudden trem-
bling seized him, and unable to support himself, he clasped one

16
242 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

of the pillars of the building, against which he leaned, until
more composed, when he fled from the place of temptation as
from the pit of’ destruction.

When in his sixteenth year, the prayers and godly example
of his mother, together with the influences of the Divine Spirit,
had so impressed his heart, that he became deeply interested
for his soul. Soon, a meeting was held in the old M. E. Church
at Wrightstown, only a few miles from the place of his birth,
where he sought and found the pardon of hissins. His conver-
sion was powerful, and attended with considerable physical ex-
citement. He fell to the floor, where after remaining for a time
in prayer and praise, he rose, not only freely justified by the
grace of God, but so full of zeal for the salvation of his young
companions, that he felt assured if he should only touch them,
they would yield to the Spirit’s influences and be saved. Thus
impressed, he started for the door. Some fled before him, while
all the others whom he could reach, surrendered themselves
as willing captives to the Lord, and immediately sought his
favor.

Shortly after this, on a Sabbath morning, his heart still burn-
ing with Divine love, and yearning with intense desire for the
salvation of others, he visited five or six of his irreligious friends.
His object was to exhort them to repentance and faith in Jesus.
When he arrived, his heart was so full of sympathetic sorrow,
that his utterance was choked, and bursting into tears, he
turned away and left them. He was greatly mortified at his
weakness, and yet these tears, silent though they were, had,an
influence which words and arguments often fail to produce, and
in a few weeks all but one of those thus visited, were partakers
of the great salvation, attributing their awakening to those floods
of tears, of which at the time he was so heartily ashamed.

About this time, he received a letter from Rev. Joseph Ben-
nett, a local preacher, and relative, a few passages from which
are here appended.

‘*O my cousin, seek pure and undefiled religion. I have not
been without the hope of seeing you in your Lord’s vineyard,
tilling Immanuel’s ground. But knowing asI do, by experience,
the many snares of the devil, the lusts of the flesh, and the al-
CHARLES PITMAN. 243

lurements of the world, I sometimes fear my hope will be baffled.
O, my dear Charles, cast away every Babylonish garment: like
Joseph, tear away from every smiling mistress, and with Samuel
say, ‘Speak Lord, for thy servant heareth.’

‘Wait the Lord’s command, and the openings of Providence.
Watch and pray. Take up your daily cross, read and meditate;
keep out of company as much as possible, and I shall have hope
of yet seeing a relation in the vineyard. May the God of all
grace bless you with all spiritual blessings.

‘‘T am, dear cousin, yours in love.”’

A new era in his life had now commenced. The latent fires
of intellect were stirred, and he was athirst for knowledge. But
there were difficulties in his way. Books were few, and oppor-
tunities for study were not only limited, but even these had their
embarrassments. The day was occupied with labor, and at
night he had only shavings, or a few pine knots, by the light of
which to_read the occasional volume that came within his reach.
But the determined mind does not easily despond. He persevered
and, by the time he had attained his seventeenth year, had so
far qualified himself, as to take the charge of a small county
school. At one time he taught in Pemberton, and the little
brick building which he occupied, is still standing, in the rear of
Benajah Antrem’s store.

Advancing rapidly in piety and knowledge, he was licensed to
exhort at New Mills, in September, 1815; so that with studying,
teaching, and warning sinners to flee from the wrath to come, his
time was wholly and profitably occupied.

In the winter of 1816, Rev. E. Page, then a local preacher,
and young Pitman, yet an exhorter, held a meeting at Three
Tuns, now Hedding, near Columbus, which was visited in a
most wonderful manner with the out-pourings of the Holy Spirit.
There was great excitement. One young woman was so power-
fully wrought upon, that in the hope of escaping the influences
which she felt, fled from the place, but, unable to flee from the
Spirit of God, yielded her heart to the claims of the gospel and
was saved.

Beholding such fruits of his labor the conviction that it was
244 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

his duty to preach the gospel, grew clearer and stronger from
day to day. He felt it was his duty not only to preach, but to
devote all his time to preaching. But, notwithstanding this, he
continued his work as a teacher, and as he well knew the hesi-
tancy with which the Conference at that time received men with
families, and hoping to get clear of the obligations which he felt
to become an itinerant, entered into the marriage relation, and
Miss Mary Newbold became his wife.

But this course did not silence his convictions. There was a
voice, by day and by night, perpetually whispering or thunder-
ing, in his ear and heart,

“Go sound the gospel jubilee,
And tell poor sinners Jesus died.
Say to a bondaged world, Be free,
For mercy’s arms are open wide.”

ey

1 J

Finally, in March, 1817, he so far yielded to his convictions,
as to consent to receive license to preach. Here he thought his
anxieties on the subject would cease, for as he was now married,
he supposed the barrier in his way to the Conference was in-
surmountable. But, God’s ways are not as our ways. After
one short year of wedded life, Brother Pitman was bereft of
his companion, and an infant son was left to his paternal care.
How true are the words of inspiration, ‘‘Son of man, behold
I take away from thee the desire of thine eyes with a
stroke.”’ This stroke, falling so suddenly and unexpectedly,
he always regarded as a punishment for refusing to yield to
what he knew was duty. He now felt that longer resistance
would expose him to still further visitations. Like an obedient
son therefore, he laid himself upon the Divine altar, and in the
spirit of an entire consecration said, ‘‘ Here am J, send me.”’

Some time during the year 1817, the health of Rev. Daniel
Moore so far failed, as to require him to give up his work on
Trenton Circuit, and Charles Pitman was appointed to supply his
place. It is worthy of remark, that his first sermon as an itine-
rant, was preached in the old church, corner of Green and
Academy streets, in that city, the scene of so many of his sub-
sequent efforts, and within thirty yards of the spot where after
CHARLES PITMAN. 245

thirty-seven years of almost unparalleled toils and triumphs, he
yielded up his soul to God.

In the spring of 1818, he was received on trial by the Phila-
delphia Annual Conference, and returned to Trenton Circuit.
His itinerant career was now fully inaugurated, and though he
shrank at first from the high and sacred responsibility, yet,
having now given himself to the work, it absorbed his physical
and mental energies to an extent rarely equaled.

_In 1819, he was appointed with John Potts to Bergen Circuit.
A little memorandum book, still in excellent preservation, shows
the several preaching-places, the texts from which he preached
at each place, and the number of members in every class con-
nected with this charge. As these things may be matters of
future interest, I append the names of the appointments on the
circuit, with the number in society at each place. Belle-
ville, thirty-two members; Spring Garden, twenty-five; Bloom-
field, thirty; Caldwell, twenty; Paramus, two classes, sixty
white, and seven colored members; Sherwood’s, ten members ;
Widow Guiness’s, thirty-two; Drummond’s, sixteen; Johnson’s,
seven; Babcock’s, twenty-five; Thiell’s thirty-eight; Haver-
straw, fifty-nine white, and four colored; Nyack, twenty-seven
white, and four colored; Pond, twenty-six; Taylor’s, eleven;
Williams’s, five; Fort Jee, twenty-seven, and four colored ;
Bull’s Ferry, one; Ringwood, twenty-two white, and five
colored; Paterson, three classes, fifty-six members; making
twenty preaching-places, with four hundred and eighty. two
white members, and eighteen colored.

Most of these places are now flourishing charges of them-
selves, and what was then comparatively a moral waste, now

blooms and blossoms like the rose. Pitman was returned to
Bergen in 1820, in company with Rev. G. Banghart. The re-
vival flame spread in every direction. Young Pitman was ex-
ceedingly popular, and multitudes flocked to hear him. Among
those converted was Charles Dougherty, who up to this time
had been a Roman Catholic. Through much opposition he now
became a decided Methodist. Soon after his conversion, he was
elected to fill the office of a trustee. Not being acquainted with
the duties of such an office, he inquired of some of’ his brethren
246 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

what he was to do; and, among other things, was told he must
assist in taking the collection on the Sabbath. Willing to serve
the church in any way, he commenced his duties at once. Ac-
cordingly on the following Sabbath, he took the purse, which in
those days was suspended at the end of a staff, some five or six
feet long, and passed it among the audience to receive their con-
tributions. A large number, however, gave him as he passed,
only a very respectful bow. This, in his simplicity, he supposed
meant, they were willing to contribute, but not having the means
at hand to do so then, wished him to do it for them and charge to
their account. Anxious to do the best he could, and as far as
possible accommodate all, he went to the house of God on the
following Sabbath, with his pockets filled with change. As he
passed along from seat to seat, the people began to bow again,
and every time they bowed, he dropped a penny in the purse to
their account. They looked amazed. What does the new
trustee mean? The third Sabbath, however, all were prepared,
and instead of bows, they gave their money. Brother Dougherty
had cured them.

About the middle of this conference year, Rev. Jacob Moore,
who had been laboring at New Brunswick, failed in health, and
it became necessary to supply his place. Charles Pitman was
selected for this important work, and on the eighth of October,
1820, he left his friends on Bergen Circuit, by whom he was
greatly beloved, and entered upon the duties of his new and re-
sponsible charge in the city. He found but twenty members
of the church there, and the very name of Methodist, was a
term so full of reproach, that few were willing to bear the scorn
associated with it, and the cause had been languishing for years.
The arrival of Pitman gave a new impulse to the drooping»
energies of our Zion, and crowds soon gathered to hear the elo-
quent words which fell in such harmonious accents from his
lips. The fame of the preacher spread far and wide, so that at
the expiration of his term of service, the church had not only
increased from twenty to one hundred members, but the public
sentiment in favor of Methodism had advanced an hundred fold.
The memory of his labors is still cherished in New Brunswick,
and a vigorous church, in an enterprising part of the city, called
CHARLES PITMAN. Q4T

by his name, stands as a living and lasting monument of his
fame.

Leaving New Brunswick, he was appointed in 1823-4, as the
first pastor of the Bridgeton Station. He commenced his
ministry in that place on the eighth of June, 1823, with a sermon
from the text, ‘‘ Finally brethren, pray for us, that the word
of the Lord may have free course and be glorified.’ Pitman
was a stranger in that community, and the number of his hearers
was small. At six o'clock in the evening, he preached from the
text, ‘‘He that goeth forth and weepeth bearing precious seed,
shall doubtless come again rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with
him.”’ In this sermon there were overwhelming tides of gospel
eloquence, and the copious showers of tears shed on that occa-
sion are remembered to this day.

It was soon noised abroad that a man of marked ability was in
their midst, and the church henceforth, was always filled with
earnest listeners. Rev. James Ayres, Presiding Elder of New-
ark District, Newark Conference, says, ‘‘ The first time I ever
heard him speak was on the following occasion. Passing through
the street in Bridgeton, N. J., one evening in warm weather, I
heard at a distance a voice which sounded so sweetly that I was
instinctively drawn in the direction of it. As I advanced, I saw
the door of a house ajar, and soon learned that a minister was
leading class in a private room. [I listened, and such was the
mellowness of his voice, and the unction with which he spoke,
that I was perfectly entranced, and impressions were made,
never to be effaced. From that hour, I became interested in the
man. As the class-meeting was held weekly, on a subsequent
evening, although an impenitent youth, I formed one of the
number present. After Mr. Pitman had spoken to the other
persons in the room, he addressed some kind inquiries to me.
Finding I had not experienced converting grace, he led me in a
short series of questions and answers, to promise that I would
pray to God for a new heart. He then laid his hands upon my
head, and, in a most solemn and melting prayer, called upon
God and angels to witness my pledge, and entreated the Lord
to accept me as his own dear child. Such was the commence-
ment of my own religious career, and surely, I have cause to
248 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

remember with reverence and gratitude, him, who under God,
led me to such a course.”’

On the 21st of October, 1823, Mr. Pitman was married to
Miss Lucy Ann Gillespie, of Philadelphia, who up to the close
of life shared in his toils and triumphs, and still survives him.

The church in Bridgeton more than doubled under his minis-
try, so that when he left, after deducting for removals, expul-
sions, deaths, and other losses, there was a membership of two
hundred and eleven.

In 1825 he was placed in charge of St. George’s, Philadelphia,
embracing several churches, and a membership of over two
thousand souls. Revs. William Barnes and Joseph Holdich were
his assistants. This year was one of great labor, wide-spread
popularity, and much success, several hundred being added to
the church. But large and important as was this city charge,
there were other and still more important posts to occupy, and
he remained at St. George’s only one year.

In 1826, when just thirty years of age, and only eight in the
ministry, he was appointed Presiding Elder of West Jersey Dis-
trict. The condition of the Church in all that region was low.
Methodism, indeed, in many parts of the district scarcely had a
name. Calvinistic churches were scattered here and there
throughout the territory, and, even where there was no regular
church organization, the people held largely to Calvinistic sen-
timents. Here, then, was a vast and magnificent field for the
exercise of his popular talents, and the dissemination of the doc-
trines of Methodism—doctrines which were embalmed in his soul
by a blessed experience, and cherished by his intellect as giving
the only true exposition of the word of God. Never, perhaps,
did a man go forth better qualified by natural endowments and
gracious influences for the work to which he had been called.
During the eight years of his previous ministry his mind had
been enlarged by careful discipline and study: his elocution was
at times, and especially on great occasions, over-mastering and
resistless, his piety sincere and deep, all of which, when added
to his official position, gave him an influence almost unbounded.
He went to his district, not only like a son of thunder, striking
terror to the souls of ecclesiastical opponents, but like the silver-
CHARLES PITMAN. 249

mouthed Apollos, soothing the sorrows of the penitent, and glad-
dening the hearts of Christians, until tears of holy joy fell in
showers like summer rain.

During the camp-meeting season, when it was known that he
would preach, the whole country for many miles would be on the
move. Not unfrequently he would have five, six, or even seven
thousand persons to hear him on such occasions. His audiences
were often chained to the spot for two hours and a half at a time,
forgetful of everything but the great theme of the redemption of
a lost world, upon which he dwelt. Towards the latter part of
his sermon unconsciously and instinctively the people would rise,
one after another, until the whole were on their feet, and when
he finished it was difficult to distinguish between the rejoicing
of Christians, and the weeping of awakened sinners. It would
seem as if heaven had been drawn down to earth, or earth had
been elevated to heaven. At one of these great gatherings in
the pines of lower Jersey, he preached three times with such re-
markable power, that three hundred and sixty professed con-
version.

At a similar meeting in Salem County, he had taken strong
and unanswerable positions in antagonism to Unitarianism, and
likewise crossing the views entertained by the followers of Elias
Hicks, the distinguished Quaker. These positions were sus-
tained as usual with great eloquence and unction. His oppo-
nents, unable to present a single argument in refutation, feeling
all he said was true, but mortified beyond endurance by defeat,
gave vent to the pent up fires of passion by declaring aloud that the
preacher was vile and ought to have his throat cut. On the fol-
lowing day, Pitman, who had heard of the utterances of these
men, was giving directions concerning a collection. When he
was through, the collectors, hat in hand, were starting to wait
upon the people, but the preacher cried out to them, ‘‘ Stop.”
Halting, and looking towards him, he said, ‘‘ Brethren, I under-
stand there are some persons here who declare that any man
who could utter such sentiments as I did yesterday, ought to
have his throat cut; now I don’t want you to take a cent from
such persons; just pass them by, and let them enjoy themselves
with their hands in their pockets.’’ No one was willing to be
250 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

reckoned among those who had made these rough remarks, and
the result was, everybody contributed, and a very large collec-
tion was obtained.

He held a meeting at Cape May Court House, before there
was any society in that neighborhood, and so powerfully were
the people wrought upon, that he dismissed them three times
before they would leave the place.

His quarterly meetings were seasons of so much interest, that
persons often traveled all night in order to be present, and his
congregations were composed of all classes of community. The
rich and the poor met together, and learned and illiterate were
alike moved to penitence and prayer.

He continued on the district four years, and the present pros-
perous condition of the churches in West Jersey is in a large
measure attributable to him. Through all that region he was
peerless in his power, and his name to this day is a synonym for
all that is grand and glorious in our Methodistic Zion.

His next field of labor was the East Jersey District, compris-
ing all that part of the State lying north of Trenton, including
Staten Island; and several appointments north of the lines se-
parating New York from New Jersey. ‘This was another vast
territory in which Methodism, though in some localities compa-
ratively strong, had in many places only a feeble and sickly ex-
istence, being overshadowed by its old, well organized, wealthy
and influential competitors,—the various Calvinistic churches.

Here, in this field, too, like causes produced like results with
those which had been realized on the West Jersey District.
His quarterly visitations and camp-meeting occasions were still
seasons of great interest and spiritual power. At all of these
meetings marked displays of the Divine presence were expected
and experienced. God came up with his people, and the elo-
quence and tears of Pitman, like a swelling flood, swept down
all opposition, and left him, an intellectual and spiritual giant,
sole master of the field.

A camp-meeting was held near Newton, Sussex County.
Pitman was a stranger in that mountainous region, but his
popularity had preceded him, and the expectations were great.
The congregation gathered was immense. Lawyers, physicians,
CHARLES PITMAN. 251

judges, men of wealth and influence from all parts of the
country came to hear the gospel of the Son of God. The
preacher seemed to have special qualifications for the work be-
fore him, and torrents of baptized eloquence fell from his lips
with such over-mastering power, that strong men were bowed to
the earth like the tempest-swept forest, and multitudes yielded
to be saved.

Many persons of wealth in the community, supposing money
could secure all they might desire, made large offers if he would
remain and preach for them again. But he had his work, and
no offers, which man might make, could induce him to turn
aside from his God-appointed path.

‘During the Summer of 1831, a camp-meeting was held near
New Brunswick. Charles Pitman preached on the first day of
August. At the close of his discourse the people were so
overwhelmed, that a deathly silence prevailed all over the
ground. Tears, copious and glistening, gushed up from every
heart. The heaven-inspired minister himself, removed almost
beyond the power of utterance, motioned to one who sat near
him to pray. The congregation knelt, and for five minutes not
a voice was heard. Eventually, a prayer-meeting was com-
menced, and ‘ then came a sound from heaven, as of a rushing,
mighty wind.’ Believers were sanctified, and sinners were
brought to the foot of the cross. T'wo preachers, Brothers Peth-
erbridge and Bull, fell prostrate to the ground, and lay in a state
of apparent unconsciousness for several hours.’’ An old man,
who had not heard a sermon for many years, led hither by curi-
osity, fell beneath the power of conviction, yielded to be saved
on the terms of the gospel, was blessed, and returned home, re-
joicing in hope of future glory. And ‘‘so mightily grew the
word of God and prevailed.’

The appointment of Pitman to these two districts, which, at
that time, occupied the entire state, seemed providential. Our
young and growing, but in many places weak and feeble Church,
seemed, just then, to require the presence of a great master-
spirit, who could arrest the attention of the masses, and then
move and mould, control and direct them for the glory of God.
Pitman was that master-spirit, and for seven consecutive years,
1
252 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

as Presiding Elder on these two districts, he moved and moulded
the entire state of New Jersey Methodistically, as no man ever
did, and probably as no one man ever will again. During these
years thousands were added to the Church, and public senti-
ment, concerning Methodism, everywhere was changed. Cal-
vinism received checks from which it will not soon recover, and
the doctrines of free grace and an unlimited atonement were
disseminated from Cape May to the hills of Upper Sussex, and
from the Delaware River to the sea. The fires of his eloquence
consumed the rubbish of doctrinal error, his evangelic argu-
ments ploughed the deep field of the human heart, the gospel
of free grave was living seed cast deep into the soft soil of the
soul, and his prayers and tears, the sunshine and the shower,
fostering the seed thus sown; and if it is yet true, ‘‘ They that
be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and they
that turn many to righteousness as the stars forever and ever,’’
how bright and glorious must the eternal future of Charles
Pitman be!

Called to leave the district at the close of his third year, he
was appointed, in 1833, to Union Church, Philadelphia, where
he remained two years.

Rev. 8. ¥Y. Monroe, who experienced religion and joined the
Church towards the close of his first year in that charge, says:

‘* At the period of Mr. Pitman’s appointment to the Union
Church, the present noble edifice on the west side of Fourth
street, below Arch street, was in course of erection. Divine
services, for the time, were held in what was known as Keyser’s
Church, in Crown street, below Callowhill. This was a building
of moderate size, which had been kindly loaned for Sabbath
afternoon and evening service.

‘¢Pitman’s reputation for pulpit eloquence, strengthened by the
remembrance of his labors at St. George’s in 1825, and occa-
sional opportunities of hearing him during the years of his
eldership, had awakened expectations of no ordinary character,
and he found, on his arrival, crowding throngs eager to listen to
his words.

“The accommodations at _Keyser’s were far from being suffi-
cient to provide even comfortable standing room for the numbers
CHARLES PITMAN. 253

who came, and those who wished to secure a place, found it ne-
cessary to be present a long while before the hour of service.
Often were the side-walks, as far as the adjoining streets, filled
with a multitude patiently waiting until the opening of the
doors should give them an early ingress.

“On the completion of the new building in Fourth street,
the society removed to its commodious audience room, and
morning services were added to those previously held. Here
the sittings were, perhaps, three-fold the number of those in
the place temporarily occupied, but, considerable as the enlarge-
ment was, not only was every part needed, but, in a little time,
the pressure was as great as it had formerly been. From all
parts of the city the people poured into the new sanctuary, until
the society might have said again, ‘The place is too straight
for me, give place to me that I may dwell.’*

‘‘The spacious auditorium, when the congregation had assem-
bled, presented, often, a thrilling and inspiring scene. Seats,
aisles, vestibule, and, not unfrequently, gallery and pulpit stairs
were crowded to their utmost with an interested throng, where
every ear was open, and every eye was fixed upon him who oc-
cupied the sacred desk. The preacher was worthy of such an
audience.’

A man of commanding physical appearance, six feet high,
somewhat inclined to corpulency, a fine, large head, covered
with a luxuriant growth of dark and slightly curling hair, a
moderately high forehead, slightly sunken eyes, rather short
upper lip, dark complexion, and, with all, a voice of great com-
pass and power, whose every note was melody. His counte-
nance, too, was an index to the various emotions of his soul,
while his manner was grave, dignified, full of earnestness and
feeling, and, so far as the exterior was concerned, every element
which constitutes the orator seemed to be possessed.

Then came the thoughts, just, appropriate, forcible, so warm
with sympathy, so powerful with unction, and so eloquently ex-

* Words from which Dr. Holdich had preached the last time they wor-
shiped in the “old Academy,” previously to its being torn down to give
place to the present beautiful church,
254 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

pressed, that those vast congregations, which at the commenc-
ment of the services, were like a sea of upturned faces, melted
in tears, and bowed at last, like willows by the water courses.

It was on a Sabbath afternoon, during this popular career, at
Union Church, about the first of March, 1834, the writer of this
memorial first beheld him. The venerable Dr. Gough, a local
minister in connexion with the church had preached, and the
services were closing, when I, a youth, from motives of curiosity,
ascending the northern stairway, stood upon the upper step, in
full view of his majestic form. Pitman, who was then in his
thirty-eighth year, and in the very zenith of his manhood, and
ministerial glory, was reading the hymn, commencing,

“QO, that my load of sin were gone ;”

the first words that reached my ear, were,

“ The cross all stained with hallowed blood,
The labor of his dying love.”

All the deep sympathies of his nature were poured into these
two lines. The voice seemed almost divine, and the blessed
sentiments, fell into the soul, softly and smoothly as drops of
liquid silver, never to be forgotten. This was the commence-
ment of my own religious history, and now, at the expiration of
thirty years, that majestic form and mellow voice, are fresh and
beautiful in memory, as things of yesterday.

Revival scenes were witnessed during most of the months of
his ministry at the Union, the fruits of which remain unto this
day. Large numbers of young men were brought into the church,
many of whom are now preaching the gospel, living epistles read
and known of all men. ;

At the expiration of his term of service there, in 1835, he was
appointed in connexion with Rev. E. 8. Janes, agent for Dick-
inson College.

It is questionable whether this kind of work was congenial to
him, but, whatever his personal preferences were, he yielded to
the call of the church, which in all such matters, he obeyed as
the voice of God.

Thrown out of the regular pastorate, in which all the sympa-
CHARLES PITMAN. 255

thies of his nature were enlisted, where his mind, too, was en-
gaged in regular and systematic study, he was now largely oc-
cupied with the financial interests of the cause of education, and
yet, the fires of his ministerial zeal were not extinguished.

Traveling in the duties of his agency, he came one day in the
vicinity of a camp-meeting, and, like the war horse snuffing the
battle from afar, hastened towards it. His arrival was near the
middle of the day. He said to the Presiding Elder, ‘‘I have
come to your meeting, and must leave this afternoon, but God
has given me a message to this people, will you letme preach?”
The elder replied, ‘‘ There isa brother engaged to preach this
afternoon, if he will yield the appointment, I shall be glad to
have you.”’ The arrangements were made, and Pitman was
to preach. At three o’clock, however, the sky was overcast with
dense black clouds, fierce lightnings glared, and the thunders
roared terribly. All the indications were that a fearful tempest
would immediately burstuponthem. But notwithstanding these
angry premonitions, the preacher took the stand, and falling
upon his knees, cried, in an agony of spirit, ‘‘O! Lord God
Almighty, if thou hast sent me to preach to this people, hold
back these threatening clouds for one hour.’’ This prayer was
thrice repeated ; each time with increasing faith and fervor. It
was a bold request, yet it was heard, and the rain was staid. He
preached for an hour and ten minutes, like one newly commis-
sioned from the skies, and, as if when through, he mustimmedi-
ately return to report the manner in which he had performed
his work. Men stood aghast, or, feeling that the day of doom
had come, fell prostrate to the earth, under the power of the
convicting Spirit. Thousands were present at the service, and as
soon as he had finished, the clouds no longer restrained, poured
out their contents in such ceaseless floods, that the multitudes
fled to the tents for refuge. The whole congregation convinced
by the power of truth, and now held captives by the storm,
were kept within the reach of religious effort. Prayer-meetings
were opened simultaneously all over the encampment, and such
were the gracious displays of Divine power, amid the tempest,
that five hundred souls were reported among the saved on that
memorable afternoon and evening.
256 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

Closing his labors in the agency at the expiration of. one year,
he was stationed in 1836 and 1837, at old St. George’s in Phila-
delphia, to engage once more, in the great business to which he
had devoted his life, and for which he was so pre-eminently
qualified, preaching the gospel in connexion with the regular
pastorate. It was just ten years since he left this charge, and he
now returns to it, with an enlarged experience, greater popu-
larity and pulpit power, and in just so much, better prepared
for more extended usefulness.

Much of the year 1836 was taken up with extensive improve-
ments to the church edifice, which interfered somewhat with
those direct efforts which he was accustomed to make for the
salvation of souls. -

Wm. P. Corbit, then a worldly-minded young man, assisted
as one of the workmen, in these repairs. Pitman used often to
say to him, ‘‘ Friend Corbit, when we get our church done, you
must get religion, and come and join us.”’

In the fall and winter of 1837, some time after the church had
been re-opened, it became evident that the streams of salvation
were rising to such an extent, that all former banks between
which the gracious tides had flowed, would be overrun, and a
general inundation would take place. God’s saints cried out,
‘* Let it come, Lord, let it come,’’ and the newly garnished walls
of old St. George’s, echoed back the earnest cry, ‘‘ Aye, Lord, let
it come, and come quickly.”’

While they were thus looking and waiting for the coming flood,
Pitman appeared in the pulpit one Sabbath evening, and an-
nounced as his text, ‘‘ He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing
precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing
his sheaves with him.’”” As he advanced in his subject, the
people were wrapt in silent astonishment at his utterances, and
like a volcano, heaving with emotion, were endeavoring to
smother the fires within. Strange as it may appear, at the very
moment when the multitudes thought they were listening to little
less than an angelic ministry, clouds and darkness so surrounded
the speaker, that, incapable of proceeding further, he suddenly
stopped, and, turning round in the pulpit, fell upon his knees,
and wrestled with God for deliverance. In an instant, such a
CHARLES PITMAN. 257

Divine influence swept over the congregation, as had never been
witnessed in that time-honored church. Scores immediately
rushed to the altar for prayer, crying, ‘‘God be merciful to us
sinners.’’ From that evening, the work of the Lord swept on
with increasing grandeur and glory for many weeks.

It was no ordinary revival, it was a flood, an inundation,
going far beyond all that the strongest faith had dared to hope for.

Five prayer-meetings were sometimes held at once. Three in
the gallery, one on either side, and one in the front, while below
there was one at the altar, and another by the front door. All
hearts seemed surcharged with divine power. A man took his
seat in the gallery one night with knife and stick in hand to
keep tally of the number who went to the altar. When the
prayer-meetings commenced, the whole congregation seemed
ready to go forward. He looked in amazement: ‘‘ My Lord,”
said he, ‘‘ they are all going,’’ and dropping knife and stick, ex-
claimed, ‘‘TI will go too!’’ He was soon converted, and, return-
ing to the gallery, gathered up his things, feeling glad, not
merely because this and that man were born there, but that he
too was included in that happy number.

The interest became so general through the city that some-
times rows of carriages, bearing the rich and gay, extended all
along Fourth street, from Race to Vine, and often their con-
verted owners, re-entering their carriages, were driven to their
homes, shouting the praises of God along the streets. Men
and women laid for hours, like those who had been slain in
battle, and when they returned to consciousness, ‘‘ Glory—
glory!’’ were the first utterances that fell from their lips.

There was a southern lady of great beauty and wealth who
was devoted to fashion in all its wildest and extremest forms.
The theatre and ball-room were her favorite places of resort.
She heard of the meeting, and came with her jewelry and
splendor to see what was going on. Arrested by the power of
grace, she too bowed at the altar of mercy, repented of her
folly, wept, and prayed, and asked to be forgiven. God sent
the baptismal floods upon her, and she shouted aloud the praises
of her King. Tearing off her gewgaws and jewelry, she cast
them at the feet of God’s servants in the altar, who, gathering

17
258 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

them up, sold them, and gave the proceeds to the cause of mis-
sions, while she became not only a devout Christian, but gave
her time, talents, wealth, and influence to extend the knowledge
of her redeeming Lord.

The meeting swept on with such unwonted power that, in the
period of twelve or thirteen weeks, seven hundred and fifty
souls professed conversion, among whom were William P. and
Israel 8. Corbit, both of whom became influential members of
the New Jersey Conference; and, it is estimated, that nearly
fifty others entered the ministry from that revival alone.

Some time before his labors closed at St. George’s the mem-
bership was far too large for one pastoral charge, and quite a
number from this church and others entered into a separate or-
ganization, purchased the building on Highth street, above
Noble, which had been used by a Dutch Reformed congregation,
ang in 1838 Charles Pitman became their pastor. It was a new
field of labor, and in some respects calculated to try the
preacher’s faith ; but, however sorely he may have been tempted,
he rose above the shafts of the enemy, and in that neighbor-
hood, then so largely occupied by butchers, poured forth, as
was his wont, the precious gospel of the Son of God. Soon
large numbers of these earnest and honest men became, not
only his warm admirers, but the lovers and followers of his
Lord.

His labors in this new church were attended with large success.

In the year 1839, when it became known that in the opinion of
Bishop Waugh, there were legal barriers in the way of his return
the second year, a petition containing the names of a great pro-
‘portion of the citizens of Spring Garden, was carried to the
Bishop in the hope of changing his mind upon the subject.
But the Bishop seeing, as he thought, the constitutional diff-
culty, said he could not return him, no matter who, or how
many, might ask it to be done. This, however, was not the ex-
ercise of an arbitrary power on the Bishop’s part, but, as he
believed, a just adherence to law, which he must observe in
Pitman’s case as well as in reference to the humblest minister in
the Church.

When, therefore, the Philadelphia Conference of 1839 ad-
CHARLES PITMAN. 259

journed, he was transferred to the New Jersey Conference, and,
when that body met, was stationed at the large new church in
Green street, Trenton, which had just been completed under the
administration of Rey. A. Atwood.

His congregations were large, and here, as elsewhere, souls
were added to the Lord.

For a number of years his peculiar adaptation for special
services, such as corner-stone laying and the dedication of
churches, had been manifest to the Methodistic public, and his
calls on such occasions were numerous.

The years of his sojourn in Trenton were far from being ex-
ceptions to this kind of labor. About this period, a vast num-
ber of those plain old God-honored churches, erected and occu-
pied with so much religious faith and fervor by our fathers, had
served their generation, and were passing away, while a new era
in church architecture had come. Buildings, more commodious,
costly, and better adapted to the growing interests of our Zion,
were rising on every hand. At that time, few of those within
a circle of several hundred miles were opened, where he did not
take some part in the dedicatory services. Rev. Wm. P. Corbit,
who spent one year in study with Mr. Pitman, while at Trenton,
thinks his calls for such labor while there, averaged three per
month, and, during some of the later periods of his ministry, he
often attended three in a single week. There were few churches
erected in New Jersey between the years 1825 and 1850 whose
walls did not first echo with the gospel from the lips of Charles
Pitman.

Towards the close of his term of service in Trenton a vacancy
occurred in the secretaryship of the Missionary Society of the
Methodist Episcopal Church. Letters from several leading
ministers were soon received by him, soliciting his views con-
cerning the acceptance of the office. While Mr. Pitman was
not insensible of the honor such a position would confer, he
knew its responsibilities were vast, and, feeling that his great
mission was more directly to preach the gospel for the immediate
conversion of sinners and the general upbuilding of the Church
of God, declined entertaining the proposition, and when the
Conference of 1841 adjourned, he was appointed Presiding
Elder of Trenton District.
260 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

He immediately entered upon the duties assigned him, and
passed partly around his district, when, in June following, on
the assembling of the New York Conference, with which, at that
time, was vested the power of filling vacancies in the General
Conference offices, in the interval of its sessions, notwithstand-
ing his expressed reluctance, he was elected Corresponding Se-
cretary of the Missionary Society of the Methodist Episcopal
Church. Subsequently, he was elected to the same office, by
the General Conferences of 1844 and 1848.

It was a position of great importance, involving interests
wide-spread and vast as eternity, and yet, whatever his own
views and preferences in the matter were, now that he was
called by the voice of the church, the obligations were felt too
strongly to allow him to refuse.

He therefore accepted the position, removed his family to
New York, and commenced his new and onerous duties.

His thoughts and labors were now to a large extent in chan-
nels new and strange. The general oversight and direction,
under the advice of the Board of Managers, of all the missions
in connection with our church, together with the promotion of
the financial interests connected therewith, devolved, to a great
extent on him.

In the prosecution of this work, he traveled far and wide, and
a new impulse was given to this divine cause, which under the
administration of wise and judicious successors has continued to
increase to the present day.

But, though his mind was so largely engrossed in these matters,
he found time for the more direct work of a gospel minister.
The next year after his appointment to the Secretaryship, he
dedicated twelve churches in widely different localities—preached
every Sabbath unless prevented by sickness, and oftentimes
through the week; sometimes in Boston in the east, and then
at Petersburgh at the South—everywhere calling sinners to re-
pentance, and building up the church in its most holy faith.
At Petersburgh, he says, ‘‘Had a good time, and twenty were
at the altar.”’ At Green Street, New York, ‘‘Felt at home,
and between twenty and thirty were at the altar.’ At John
Street, New York, ‘‘an interesting time, and thirteen were at
the altar.’
CHARLES PITMAN. 261

These things, however, were in the intervals of his official
business, the large proportion of his time being taken up with
missionary sermons, addresses, collections, reports, correspon-
dence, plannings, &e.

But numerous and pressing as were oftentimes the duties of
his office, he could not forget or desert his old summer resorts—
the camp-meetings. In 1842, one of these meetings was in pro-
gress near Bellville, New Jersey. Thither he repaired. At an
appointed time he was to preach, but when the hour arrived,
there was every indication of an immediate and heavy rain; in-
deed, a few drops had already fallen, and the people were hur-
rying to their tents for shelter, when Pitman, mighty in faith,
called aloud for them to stop, assuring them that in as much as
he was the Lord’s ambassador, the rain would not fall till his
message was delivered. Rev. A. EK. Ballard, then a young man,
and present at the meeting, says, ‘‘ At this announcement, I
looked incredulously at the blackened heavens, but remember-
ing to have heard that once before, on a similar occasion, he
had made a similar declaration, I determined to wait and see,
although trembling for God’s honor in the result. He then
knelt, and prayed fervently that God, for the glory of his cause,
would hold back the rain until the sermon was delivered, and in
his prayer, felt more strongly that it would be so. He arose,
told the people again there would be no rain until he was
through with preaching. ‘All this while, however, the clouds
were hanging over the assembly like a funeral pall, and to
human vision, a moment could not elapse, before the storm
would burst upon us. But the people waited, and he preached
for nearly two hours, with great power and unction. At the
close of the sermon, he shouted, ‘To your tents, O Israel, for
the Lord’s message having been delivered, the rain will now
descend.’ We fled for refuge, but had scarcely time to
shelter ourselves, before the floods poured upon us in greatest
fury.”’

Sometimes on these great occasions his sympathies were
stirred to their very depths, and he could only find relief in tears.
At one of these meetings in the woods, a solemn and impressive
discourse had been delivered, without producing much visible
262 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

effect. During its presentation, Pitman had been in his ima-
gination, placing all that vast congregation before the judgment,
where they were to receive their final award. He thought the
matter over and over, until it seemed to be a reality. With
.these views and feelings, he arose to exhort. But the awful
danger to which the people were exposed, so overwhelmed his
burdened heart, that utterance was choked, and he could not
speak a single word. He stood for two or three minutes, and
then covered with confusion at his awkward position, waved his
hand towards the altar, and burst into a flood of tears. The
people who had sat unmoved, though solemnly impressed under
the sermon, quite unprepared for this outburst of sympathy on
their behalf, yielded to the truth, and came—ten, twenty, fifty,
a hundred, two, three hundred, crowded around the rude altar
in the forest, all seeking the forgiveness of their sins, and re-
newal in righteousness. Glorious power had attended Pitman’s
words a thousand times, but in this instance, an equal, if not
greater power, attended Pitman’s tears /

But we must turn away from these soul-stirring scenes, and
follow him to his office work in the dry and dusty city. It is
not intended, however, to examine the details of his missionary
labor, during the nine years of his secretaryship. That which
he did one year, he did the next, with this difference, that, like
the waves, when the pebble has been dropped into the smooth
waters, circling wider and wider till they reach the shore, so he
enlarged and increased the circle of his toils, until reaching the
shore of human weakness he could toil no more.

If then, we take the year 1843, the third of his new position,
as one of the early or inner circles of his missionary labors, when
he traveled six thousand miles, delivered forty-one sermons,
thirty missionary addresses, dedicated six churches, and col-
lected ten thousand dollars, and that too, at a time when mis-
sionary funds were contributed with a hand vastly less liberal
than now; then enlarge these labors each year, in proportion as
the mixsionary cause enlarged and took a stronger hold upon the
judgment and sympathies of the church, remembering too, that
his calls to corner-stone layings, dedications, camp-meetings, and
protracted efforts, were augmenting, rather than diminishing,
CHARLES PITMAN. 263

and we shall have some idea of his work during the six years
succeeding 1843.

But the labors just enumerated, are such only as appear upon
the surface, and could readily be seen by the church. They do
not include the drudgery of the office, the wide-spread corres-
pondence, the editorial supervision of the Missionary Advocate,
the preparation of reports, the devising of large and liberal
schemes of benevolence, and the urging of these upon the atten-
tion of annual conferences, hundreds of miles apart, arranging for
missionary meetings, in which to give a practical application
and developement of all these schemes in the churches through-
out our wide-spread territory, the entertainment of missionaries,
assisting them in the out-fit for their voyages and travels, super-
vising their embarkation and departure; these, and a thousand
nameless things, which even good men could neither understand
or appreciate, added to his labors in the pulpit and on the plat-
form, made up a weight of toil and care too great to be long
endured.

In the year 1844, he received the following communication,
which explains itself:

“To Rev. CHarites PITMAN.
‘“Merrnopist Mission Rooms, New York.

“ Rev. AND VERY Dear Sir:—It gives me pleasure to com-
municate to you officially, that the Academic Senate of the Uni-
versity of North Carolina, conferred upon you the honorary
degree of Doctor of Divinity, on the 6th inst., in Gerard Hall, at
the celebration of the annual commencement of the institution.

Allow me to embrace this occasion to tender an expression of
the high regard for you sincerely cherished, by

‘“* Yours, affectionately, and obediently,

‘*CuarLes M. F. DrEeEms.’’
University or N. C. June 10, 1844.

In regard to the honor thus bestowed, it may be added, that
although he never manifested any fondness for such things, yet,
as it came unsought, he received it in silence as an expression of
kind regard, and wore it without resistance to the end; but, if
264 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

a deep practical, and to some extent critical knowledge of the
word of God, if power to preach that word so that sinners in
vast multitudes were converted and the Church built up, if a
thorough knowledge of theology and Church usages in his own
and other communions, and a burning love for Jesus, constitute
claims for such distinction, Charles Pitman possessed them all,
and was, in the highest and truest sense, a Doctor of Divinity,
entitled to all the honors which such a degree could confer upon
him.

In the closing part of the year 1847, after an extended and
protracted official tour westward, accompanied by Mrs. Pitman
and Bishop Waugh, Dr. Pitman, inthe most fraternal spirit, ad-
dressed a missionary letter to the ministers of the Liberia Annual
Conference, which was so highly esteemed by that body, that by
resolution copies were ordered published at their missionary
printing office for the use of the members and other friends.
The first and closing paragraphs are here appended.

‘‘Dear Brethren, for some time past I have felt a strong and
increasing desire to address you on the subject of the great work
in which you are engaged, and, if possible, to encourage your
hearts and strengthen your hands for the more successful prose-
cution of the duties which devolve upon you as missionaries of
the cross. But, as yet, neither time nor circumstances have
allowed me an opportunity of gratifying this desire. Nor am I
now able to communicate with you individually. I have, there-
fore, determined to address you collectively, and in your Confer-
ence capacity.”’

He then treats of the magnitude and importance of the work,
the qualifications with which a missionary should be endowed,
the difficulties and dangers connected with missionary enter-
prise, and closes in the following words :

‘In conclusion, permit me to remark that, although the
magnitude of your work, the difficulties and dangers which sur-
round you, in connection with the weakness and infirmities
which attach to human nature in its best state, are sufficient to
cause the stoutest hearts to quail, yet the prospect before you is
not without its encouragements. The cause itself is the Lord’s.
You are but agents employed in this great work, yet, we trust
CHARLES PITMAN. 265

you are agents selected by God himsclf. And who can tell what
he will accomplish by instruments of his own choosing? Your
hopes of success are based upon the word of everlasting truth.
Prophecy and promise unite to sustain the long cherished hopes
of the Church, in regard to the salvation of the heathen. ‘ Ask
of me,’ says God, ‘and I will give thee the heathen for thine
inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for thy pos-
session.’ For these, the Redeemer suffered and died. And
‘he shall see of the travail of his soul and be satisfied.’ Indi-
vidually, you may indeed be nothing; but you are connected
with an agency which is Divine, and which cannot fail to give
efficiency to your efforts. What is the pebble in the brook, or
the sling? or what the slender arm of the youthful shepherd?
Yet, that pebble in the sling, and that sling in the hand of
David, and his arm connected with the name of the God of the
armies of Israel, and the vaunting Goliath lies prostrate at his
feet.

‘‘How simple, and even foolish, in the ear of worldly wis-
dom, is the story of the cross! how feeble and inefficient the
instrumentality of man! and yet this simple weapon drawn from
the brook of truth, though directed by the most insignificant in-
strument, becomes ‘ mighty through God;’ and by it the giant
forms of pagan idolatry, and superstition, which for centuries
have reared their brazen fronts and proudly defied the God of
heaven, shall, in the midst of their vauntings, be tumbled into
ruins.

‘With these animating prospects before you, dear brethren,
let nothing deter you from the faithful prosecution of your holy
work. Ever remember that you are not at liberty to entangle
yourselves with secular concerns, and that you are expected to
consecrate yourselves and your families entirely to the missionary
work, though it may be at the sacrifice of ease, of the refine-
ments and socialities of polished society, of health, and even of
life itself. Go forward, then, in the name of the Lord, and
push the conquests of Messiah’s kingdom farther, and still
farther, until the vast interior of Africa shall become vocal with
the songs of Christian triumph. And remember for your con-
solation, that the Church under whose direction and patronage
266 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

you labor, is identified with you in all that legitimately belongs
to your mission. She will hold herself responsible for your ne-
cessary supplies. She will sympathize with you in all your
trials; she will weep with you in all your sorrows; and she will
rejoice with you in all your successes. And should any of you,
in the providence of God, be destined to find a premature grave
in the land of your voluntary exile, she will most devoutly pray
that, like others of your noble predecessors and coadjutors, you
may fall at your post, sword in hand, with your clustering
honors thick upon you; and that with Cox, and Wright, and
Barton, and Stocker, and Williams, and others who have been
associated with you in this interesting field, you may wear a
faithful missionary’s crown, and ‘shine as stars in the kingdom
of heaven forever and ever.’

‘* And now, dearly beloved, ‘Z commend you to God, and to
the word of his grace, which is able to build you up, and to give
you an inheritance among all them which are sanctified.’

‘Yours in Missionary bonds.”’

As years passed, it was more and more manifest that the
varied and protracted labors connected with his office were pros-
trating his physical energies, and in the early part of 1850 he
had so far declined, that it became necessary for him to resign
his position as missionary secretary, and withdraw from all
public labors. Immediately his thoughts were engaged in mak-
ing suitable arrangements for his family, and he addressed the
following affecting letter to his old friend, C. C. Yard, Esq., at
Trenton, dated New York, March, 1850.

‘*My health is so feeble and my nervous system so much pros-
trated that the labor and difficulties, connected with moving,
seem to me almost insurmountable.

‘‘ My infirmities, if not my age, make the weight of a grass-
hopper to be a burden. I have arrived at that crisis in a
Methodist preacher’s history which calls for a large share of
sustaining grace. I had intended to rent my house and get a
smaller one for a moderate sum; but I cannot hear of one any-
where to suit me, and I am, therefore, driven to the necessity
of occupying my own. It is true, it is not a better house than
CHARLES PITMAN. 267

I need for my comfort, but Ido not know how I am to live
without the rent. My whole income, without the house, will be
less than one hundred dollars per annum. And you know the
amount we receive from Conference is very small and very pre-
carious. But stern necessity compels, and I must submit and
endeavor to trust in God. It is impossible for me to describe
ny feelings for some weeks past, but I think I do not murmur.”’

During the years of Dr. Pitman’s secretaryship, he had fre-
quent prostrating attacks of sickness; sometimes at home amid
the affectionate solicitude of his family, and sometimes far away
prosecuting the duties of his office. From these, however, with
careful and kind attentions he generally soon recovered, but for
some months previous to his resignation there seemed to be a
permanent decline, and after his settlement at Trenton a steady
increase of debility and suffering marked his course.

For years he had cherished a high appreciation of poetry, and
sometimes courted the muse himself. Some of his articles are
touchingly pathetic, while others are full of playful humor or
biting sarcasm. Each year after his retirement to private life,
on the 9th of January, his birth-day, he wrote an article, en-
titled ‘‘ Birth-Day Reflections.’’ The following verses are parts
of a poem written on that day, in 1851, the next year after his
removal to Trenton:

“Two score and fifteen years have gone,
Since life with me commenced its dawn.
How like a race that’s swiftly run
Life’s tale is told, soon as begun.

* % * * *

“T’ve labored long and labored hard,
Nor have I toiled without reward.
Thousands of souls in mercy given
Shall own my ministry in heaven.

“In retrospecting by-gone years,
How short our fleeting time appears!
How evanescent all below,
How dark these grounds where sorrows grow!
268 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

“Friendship is often but a name,
Prompted by selfish love of fame;

It fawns and flatters for a day,
And then it cools and dies away.

“So I have found my summer friends,
Friends only while it served their ends,
And when I could no longer serve,
Their love was changed to cold reserve.

“But, yet, there are a worthy few,
Who still remain both kind and true,
Whose tender sympathies I share
Who for my comfort kindly care.

“May these unwavering triends be blest,
With present peace and future rest,
And I with them sweet notes employ
Where all is health, and life, and joy.”

The views here taken of the friendships of life are somewhat
gloomy, but it must be borne in mind that at the time of this
writing his nervous system was entirely prostrated, and, phy-
sically. he was a wreck.

In the year 1852 the New Jersey Conference held its annual
session in the city of Trenton. Although the church was but
three or four minutes’ walk from Dr. Pitman’s house, and dearly
as he loved to mingle in these gatherings of his brethren, his
health was such as to allow him but a single visit. That visit
will never be forgotten by those who were present. It was about
ten o'clock in the morning, several days after the Conference had
convened. Bishop Janes was in the chair, and the business was
progressing with quietness and dispatch. Suddenly a wail of
unutterable sorrow burst upon the assembly. Startled by the
unexpected sound, and ignorant of its source, every eye was in-
stantly turned in the direction from whence it came. Whata
scene was then presented! There was the form of the once ma-
jestic Pitman bowed and broken; his noble, and in times past
often divinely-illuminated face bathed in a flood of ‘tears; the
lower jaw was relaxed and so fallen as to give him a most unna-
tural appearance ; and, as he passed up the northern aisle, sup-
ported by a friend on either side, the sight of his ministerial
brethren in health—brethren whom he had so often met under
CHARLES PITMAN. 269

more favorable circumstances, and with whom he had so long
and so sweetly labored, still strong to battle for the Lord, while
he, with all his early and earnest sympathies for poor humanity,
was but a wreck unable to do anything, so overwhelmed him,
that a wail expressive of the deepest anguish burst from his al-
most breaking heart. On reaching the platform, Bishop Janes
descended and kindly assisted him to a chair beside him, where
he sat till the close of the session bathed in tears. The scene
was so deeply affecting, that for some time no business was
transacted, and when resumed, it was in tones subdued by sym-
pathy and sadness. ;

Having followed the narrative of Dr. Pitman’s life thus far,
and witnessed some of the gracious results of his labors, it seems
appropriate to refer now a little more particularly to his style of
preaching and the sources of his power.

‘‘When I first knew him,”’ says Rev. Jas. Ayres, ‘‘ I thought,
and, after the experience and observations of thirty-six years, I
still think, he was, taking him altogether, one of the greatest
preachers of his time.

‘* His oratory was not of the scholastic or fictitious type. Like
Patrick Henry’s, it was the true oratory of nature. His voice
was mellow and full, its intonations were pleasant, and the mo-
dulation entirely under his control. The expression of his coun-
tenance, when preaching, was glowing and sympathetic, evincing
the deep interest he felt in the spiritual welfare of his congre-
gation.

‘He equally despised witticism and bombast, and used plain
words to express sound and sober sense. He respected his
hearers, and they respected and reverenced him. He recognized
the true relation between judgment and feeling, and when, by
solid argument, he had convinced the understanding, he knew
no law of philosophy or religion which forbade his appealing to
the emotions, and enlisting them in the fear and service of God.
‘The unction of the Holy One,’ was a favorite expression with
him, and rarely in any man’s ministry has it been more glori-
ously exemplified than it often was in his.

‘Tn the commencement of his sermons he was usually argu-
mentative, but, having stated his doctrinal points and defended
them, he would pass to the Christian duties based upon those
270 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

doctrines, and after sufficiently enforcing them, would again pass
to the Christian privileges connected with them. As he ad-
vanced in his sermons, his emotions would rise, and, carrying his
congregation with him, he often became overwhelmed with his
subject, and the responsibility of his position as an ambassador
of Christ, and at such times would give utterance to his feelings
in the language of the weeping prophet, ‘Oh! that my head
was water, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep
day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people.’ Upon
such occasions, his congregation would sympathize with him to
such an extent that scarcely a heart could be found unaffected,
or cheek not bathed in tears.’’ Often, too, the exhibitions of
feeling were those of unbounded joy.

‘An illustration of this occurred at a camp-meeting, near Plain-
field, while he was on the Hast Jersey District. His text was,
Romans viii. 17: ‘‘ And if children, then heirs; heirs of God,
and joint heirs with Christ; if so be that we suffer with him, we
shall also reign with him.’’ Having treated the subject doctrin-
ally, practically, and experimentally, rising by degrees all through
his discourse, when he came to speak of the blessedness of the
heirship, he was wholly absorbed with the grandeur and glory of
his theme, until reaching a sublime climax of emotion and ora-
tory, he asked triumphantly, ‘‘ Heirs of what? a hundred acres
of land? No! A few thousand dollars in gold? No! A king-
dom or a throne on this earth? No!’ Then, ascending to the
loftiest possible summit of overmastering eloquence, his voice
full, melodious, and clear as the tones of a silver bell, yet tower-
ing to its sublimest pitch, the echoes were heard through the for-
est a mile or more, as he asked again, ‘‘ Heirs of what?’’ Then
with a soul overflowing with divine emotions, answered, ‘‘ Heirs
of God and joint heirs with JEsus Curist, to an inheritance in-
corruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in
heaven for You.”

The effect was overpowering, and the saints of the Most High
in an ecstacy of joy felt they were scarcely any longer heirs,
but had already entered upon their bright and eternal in-
heritance.

Here, then, in his commanding style, his well-arranged dis-
courses, his sound theology, his earnestness of spirit, his sympa-
CHARLES PITMAN. 271

thetic nature, and his baptized soul, we have the key to his great
popularity and power.

His love of books became a passion, and, during a large por-
tion of his life he spent a considerable part of his limited receipts
in the purchase of volumes that he prized, so that, notwith-
standing the inconvenience of frequent removals in the itine-
rancy, he accumulated and continued to keep near him an exten-
sive library.

‘¢ Although uniformly an extemporaneous speaker, he was ac-
customed to make laborious and careful preparation for the pul-
pit by means of the pen. He wrote many sermons in full, not
for the purpose of either reading or memorizing them, but for
the sake of disciplining his mind to thought and language, and
also for the purpose of putting his best thoughts on important
subjects into convenient form for reference, when he might have
occasion to treat those subjects again.

“When in the full exercise of his noble powers, he once said
to a friend, ‘I should perhaps write no sermons, were I sure I
should always have the same activity of mind that I now possess;
but, as I cannot reasonably expect this, I deem it but prudent
to make preparation when I can, for coming days of mental de-
cline or physical feebleness.’ To his friends who were cognizant
of the state of his mind and body during the last few years of his
life, these words will seem as prophetic as they were discrect
and full of wisdom for the guidance of others.

‘* His natural temperament was highly nervous. At times he
was subject to a great flow of spirits, which made him exceed-
ingly companionable—at other times to great mental depression,
which very much abridged his personal enjoyment. He wasa
fast and firm friend. He was ambitious, but his ambition was
of an exalted kind. It was his pleasure to place others on a
proper level, and then endeavor to rise above them—not so
much, however, in position, as in usefulness.

‘Tn the Missionary Secretaryship, he excelled in the eloquent
presentation of the glorious provisions of the gospel, as adapted
to every descendant of fallen Adam, and most powerfully would
he urge the motives for its dissemination. The management of
finances, however, was not congenial to his mind or habits; a
large correspondence was a burden to him; and he always de-
272 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

lighted less in platform speeches than in the more substantial,
and, as he regarded it, more religious, mode of pulpit address.”’

But with all his talents as a man, his faith and zeal as a Chris-
tian, his power as a minister, called and anointed from on high,
there were better things in reserve for him, and so, on Saturday,
the 14th of January, 1854, in the triumphs of the glorious gos-
pel, God took him to himself, aged fifty-eight years and five days.

The funeral services were conducted at the Green Street Me-
thodist Episcopal Church, Trenton, on the following Tuesday
afternoon, by Bishop Janes, in the presence of a large congrega-
tion, in which were between thirty and forty ministers. The re-
mains were then interred in the Mercer Cemetery, over which, at
a subsequent period, the New Jersey Conference erected an ap-
propriate monument to his memory.

The Rev. Edward C. Jones says, ‘‘When a boy, I frequently
attended the ministrations of the lamented Pitman. I was at-
tached to him as an awakening preacher of righteousness; and
now, though a member and minister of another branch of the
Israel of God, I desire to express my feelings at the sad event
of his departure from the earth.”

These feelings he embodied in a beautiful little poem, pub-
lished in the Christian Advocate and Journal, entitled, ‘‘ The
Unbroken Rest,” a verse of which stands at the commencement
of this memorial, and with two other verses. of the same, we
close our account of the loved—the lamented—and the now
sainted Pitman.

“Tn slow decay thou passedst to thy rest;
But faith had pinions mighty in their sweep!
And hope and trust were thine while sinking thus,
So wrecked in body, to thy dreamless sleep.
The crown bedecked with gems revealed its light
And pain forgot its power, and death disowned its night.

“Tn that blest realm where all the hosts of God,
Though differing here in name shall meet at last,
The travel-dust of time, the strife with sin,
The fierce temptation, all forgot and past,
How sweet the hope! how rapturous the trust!
That there shall meet, as one, the glorified—the just.”
JOHN P. M‘CORMICK. 273

REV. JOHN P. M‘CORMICK.

“ At church, with meek and unaffected grace,
His looks adorned the venerable place;
Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway,
And fools, who came to scoff, remained to pray.”

Amp the quiet and rural scenes of Phillipston, New York,
on the 13th of May, 1822, John P. M‘Cormick had his birth.

Reared under the influence of pious example, his parents
being members of the Methodist Episcopal Church, he beeame
a conscientious, and to some extent, even a devout child. His
mother declared she never knew him to tell a falsehood.

When about eight years old, being in company with some
rude boys, who were in the habit of using profane, language,
they dared him to follow their example; he finally yielded, and
uttered an oath. In a moment he felt as if a dagger had pierced
his heart. His peace of mind was gone, and he found no relief,
until with tearful eyes he confessed his sin unto the Lord, and
then in the middle of the night, his eyes still streaming with
tears, arose, and went to his father’s bedside and asked him to
arise and pray for his forgiveness.

Through all his childhood, he was a subject of the Spirit’s in-
fluences, but the first religious impressions which he could dis-
tinctly remember, were made upon his mind when about thir-
teen years of age, through the instrumentality of Methodist
ministers, laboring in his neighborhood. These impressions
and convictions remained with him, with greater or less force,
up to the time of his conversion. Under the influence of these
convictions, he often made resolutions to become a Christian,
but, like many others, failed to fulfill them. Often when re-
turning from the place of worship, where he had listened to a
heart-searching sermon, he would kneel by the road-side and

18
274 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

pray to God for the pardon of his sins. But notwithstanding
these strong convictions and earnest way-side prayers, there was
not a full yielding of the heart to God, and the work of salvation
was deferred. One obstacle in the way of his immediate conver-
sion, he says himself, was an intense love for what is called light
reading. Every novel or romance that fell in his way, no matter
what its character, was read, indeed fairly devoured by him,
until a taste had been formed which was only overcome at last,
by the powerful help of the Holy Spirit.

At the age of sixteen he went to Orange County, N. Y., to
learn a trade. The situation he occupied was not favorable to
religion. Fortunately, however, he was in the immediate neigh-
borhood of an elder brother, who in his regular visits to the
house of God, some three or four miles distant, invariably in-
vited John to accompany him. Under the heart-searching ap-
peals of such men as §. Landon and T. Newman, who labored
on the circuit at that time, the young apprentice often wept like
a child, and was soon influenced so far as to engage in the duty
of secret prayer every night and morning. But the great deep
of his heart was not yet reached. Pride and sin were not sub-
dued. Still he continued to visit the sanctuary. On one of
these occasions, Rev. T. Newman preached. God was with his
servant, an inspiration from the Holy One came upon him, and
his word was with power. Many hearts were deeply ‘affected,
and amongst these was young M‘Cormick. It was the Sabbath
day. There was no extra meeting, yet secing the influence that
was abroad amongst the people, an invitation was given to such
as felt like giving their hearts to God to come forward to the
‘altar. A number embraced the opportunity, sought and found
the Saviour. But John, timid and fearful, felt the cross was
heavy, and although bathed in tears, and greatly desiring that
some one would ask him to go forward, yet as no one spoke to
him on the subject, he could not go alone. After the services
closed, a friend seeing his condition, said to him, ‘‘ You desire
salvation, come to-night, and go to the altar.’ He went home
with a sad heart, but when evening came, though the church
was three miles off, he was again in the congregation, and at
the proper time bowed at the altar, a heart-broken penitential
seeker of pardoning mercy from the hand of God. =
JOHN P. M‘CORMICK. 275

On the following Sabbath evening, before the hour of Divine
service, while singing

“Religion ! ’tisa glorious treasure,”

in a social company, at a friend’s house, his soul was set at
liberty, and he felt he could sing with the spirit and with the
understanding also.

Soon after this, on the 9th day of December, 1839, then in
his seventeenth year, he united with the M. E. Church on pro-
bation.

He immediately adopted rules of holy living, which greatly
promoted his religious growth and strength. Amongst these
rules was one requiring him to observe stated times for private
prayer three timesa day. In these devout spiritual exercises,
he was greatly built up and blessed, and he thought, in after-
life, that, but for the adoption of such a course, he might have
backslidden, and finally become a cast-away.

From the commencement of his union with the Church, he
was convinced of the necessity of holiness of heart. He said,
‘‘T heard it preached, saw it to be my privilege, and earnestly
desired to possess it.’” But in the attainment of it, he had

agonizing and protracted heart-strugglings with unbelief and sin.
In these struggles his physical strength was sometimes ex-
hausted, and he felt cast down, and almost destroyed, still he
persevered until, in the simplicity of a child-like faith, he cast
himself unreservedly upon the all-cleansing blood. Then the
divine baptism came, and he exclaimed with a heaven-inspired
rapture, ‘‘ My joy is full!”

_ Du..ng these spiritual efforts to obtain the higher forms of
Christian experience and knowledge, his mind was greatly exer-
cised concerning the gospel ministry. But, as he was young
and of a retiring disposition, it was only through much prayer
and the advice of reliable Christian friends, that he was able to
reach a right conclusion on the subject. God had often blessed
him in exhortation, and some degree of success had crowned his
labors, still, his mind was not as clear as he desired until his re-
moval to New Jersey and his way was opened for him to attend
the Pennington Seminary, where he spent a year, using every
\

276 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

means in his power to qualify himself for the great work to
which he now felt and believed he was divinely called. Here
his piety and meek spirit soon secured the confidence of the
Church, and he was licensed to preach.

In 1845 he was admitted into the New Jersey Conference on
trial, and appointed to Middleville charge, where his labors were
blest in the conversion of a score of immortal souls. His sub-
sequent appointments were, in 1846, Rockaway; in 1847-8,
Vernon; in 1849-50, Chapel, a part of Hope Circuit ; in 1851-2,
Clinton Circuit, when his labors closed.

In all these fields of labor he was greatly beloved and useful.
True, he had his conflicts and trials in connection with his work
as a Methodist minister, particularly on the Chapel Circuit,
where there was much: dissatisfaction growing out of a division
of the charge at the previous Conference. This, Brother
M‘Cormick felt most keenly, but, he said, ‘‘I believe it is the
duty of a Methodist preacher to go to work, even though for-
midable obstacles present themselves before him.’’ He did go
to work, and, although for a time the difficulties seemed un-
yielding, yet God was with him, and, notwithstanding all, he
said, ‘‘ My soul is full of peace—calm, settled peace.’’

“That lays the rough paths of peevish nature even,
And opens in the breast a constant heaven.”

He had success, too. Concerning a woods-meeting held on
the charge, during his first year, in August, he wrote, ‘‘ Our
contemplated woods-meeting is past. The Lord was present to
bless his people, and it was a good time.’’ They then concluded
to continue the meeting in a school-house near by during another
week. He said, ‘‘The object of this meeting is the glory of
God and the salvation of immortal souls,’’ and then subjoins
the prayer, ‘‘Oh, if my heavenly Father would sanction my
efforts, and pour out the spirit of revival upon the Church, I
would try to cleave closer and closer to his blessed side.”’

He had married a Miss E. Crosby, of New York City, a lady
of deep piety, who greatly aided him in his work. Ina note
appended by her, some time after his death, she says, ‘‘ This
prayer was answered. A work broke out which resulted in the
JOHN P. M‘CORMICK. 277

awakening and conversion of scores of precious souls, and the
valley echoed and re-echoed with the praises of God.’

At this meeting a circumstance occurred, illustrating the
power and prevalence of persevering prayer. There were three
young men, all sons of a devout old Christian.

For these young men Brother M‘Cormick felt a deep solici-
tude. He wept, and prayed, and labored for their salvation.
But their minds seemed wholly absorbed in worldly matters, and
the work of their salvation was delayed. Still, the minister
was unfaltering, and prayed and labored on.

Finally, feeling that these young men were not only neglect-
ing salvation themselves, but that th: were standing in the way
of others, he asked the Lord to give him a message particularly
adapted to them, and then so direct tie word that it would reach
their hearts. This prayer was likewise answered. That night,
after having preached with power, on ‘‘Quench not the Spirit,’
and while inviting persons to the altar, to which none had yet
come through all the week, one of these young men arose, and
said aloud, ‘‘I am going to the altar—pray for me. I came
here this evening, striving to quench the Spirit, resolved to
defer seeking my soul’s salvation to some other time, but I fear
[ may never have another opportunity. Pray for me.’’? Im-
mediately his wife arose and followed him. Then the two other
brothers fell at the mercy-seat, and, side by side, they sought
the Saviour, and, side by side, rejoiced in his love. Believing
prayer prevailed, and the gospel triumphed. ‘To these gracious
displays of saving power Brother M‘Cormick referred with pro-
foundest satisfaction in the closing hours of life.

On Clinton Circuit, his last charge, he was greatly honored
of God, and beloved by the people. He moved amongst them
in the discharge of his various duties, like his divine Master,
meekly, devoutly, and cheerfully, preaching with system, pathos,
and power. Every sermon seemed to be attended with that
divine unction, which clothes the pulpit with a halo of glory.
As the people looked up, they saw not the man, but the blessed
Master ; heard not a human voice so much as a divine message.
Rev. Wm. Stout, then a lad, but now a member of the Maine
Conference of the M. E. Church, was amongst those converted
while he was on this charge.
278 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

He loved every department of his work. He was an excellent -
pastor, a friend of the Sabbath-school, temperance reform, edu-
cational interest, missionary enterprise, everything connected
with the cause of God had his prayers, and his hearty co-opera-
tion, yet all was done without ostentation, quietly, and almost
unseen, but felt. For one so young, he was a model minister.

In his intercourse with men, he was of a modest and retiring
disposition, seeming to develope the teachings of the Apostle
Paul, ‘‘ ever esteeming others better than himself.” ‘‘ While
his scruples, of which he never lost sight, were of the most com-
manding and influential character, yet he was sweet-spirited, and
one of the most desirable companions; still, he threw off re-
straint less, and carried out his habitual gravity more, than any
man I ever knew.”’

He was deeply pious. With him religion was not a theory
only, but a divine and heartfelt reality; a reality which glad-
dened his heart in its deepest sorrow, and brightened all the
future with hope and joy. He professed and enjoyed holiness
of heart, a glorious attainment, one which adorns the Christian
life with whatsoever things are pure and lovely and of good re-
port. It was this that gave him that genuine meekness of
spirit, and true humility of soul, which rendered his heart so
blessed, and his life so influential. Religion with him became a
habit, Christianity a settled principle. His reliance upon the
atonement was thorough, his experience mature, and his fitness
for heaven seemed to be complete. He said, ‘‘I am the Lord's,
and J am determined to be his.”’

The last Sabbath of the Conference year, April, 1853, came.
He had preached his farewell sermon to the Clinton congrega-
tion, in the morning, previously to going to the Conference on
the following day, as he supposed, a well man. In the after-
noon, he went to another appointment, to give his valedictory
there, but he was attacked with hemorrhage of the lungs before
entering the church. He called on a brother to officiate in his
place, he had preached his last sermon.

At the ensuing Conference, he was returned to Clinton Circuit,
a supernumerary.

His decline was rapid; but such is the power of dispensing
JOHN P. M‘CORMICK. 279

blessings which God has attached to the truly good, that they -
cannot even die without benefit to their fellow-creatures; for death
consecrates their example, and the influence which may have
been by some slighted through life, becomes efficacious in death
and mighty at the tomb. It was so with John P. M‘Cormick.
His death chamber seemed to all, like the vestibule of glory.
He awaited the arrival of the pale messenger, like a Christian
hero, trusting in his God. While passing down the declivity
which leads to the river, he said, ‘‘I am not afraid to die; the
everlasting arms are around me. Oh there is glory up yonder.
I suppose if the veil were drawn aside, we should see it all about
us now. Glory to Jesus! Glory to Jesus! Why zt is all glory.
Iam a worm of the dust, a child of mortality, but the Lord is
my all, and in all, forever.’’

The last Sabbath but one, that he spent on earth, he asked
those around him to sing,

“ And let this feeble body fail.”

When they reached the third verse,

“O what hath Jesus bought for me,
Before my ravished eyes,
Rivers of life divine I see,
And trees of paradise,”

his heart was full to overflowing, and he triumphantly exclaimed,
“¢ Hallelujah! my adorable Jesus has purchased this for me. I
shall soon be at home with him, and the innumerable company
who are washed and made white in the blood of the Lamb.’

Calling his wife to his bedside, he said, ‘‘ When I am gone,
say to my brethren in the ministry, preach holiness of heart; in
that I have been deficient. I now see and feel its importance.
Only the pure in heart shall see God.’’

He gave up his family with great confidence, saying, ‘‘ The
Lord has promised to provide.’’ Hearing his wife say to a
friend, ‘‘O what shall Ido when he isgone?”’? He immediately
responded, ‘‘ Jesus will be left, in him you will find, Husband,
Brother, Friend.” ;

The morning before his departure, recovering a little from his
280 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

great prostration, his wife and some of his neighbors being in
the room, and his countenance all radiant with glory, he said, [
seem to catch a view of the outer sanctuary, not of the inner,
but of the outer sanctuary; I see an innumerable company of
redeemed ones; and they say to me, ‘‘ Brother come, Brother
come,’’ and then, referring to a little child whom they had buried
four months before, he said, ‘‘I see my own dear Sarah with
them. Glory to God, I shall soon be there.’’
On the 31st of July, 1853, he whispered softly, ‘‘ Jesus, precious
Jesus,’’ and then passed up to be forever with the Lord. So he
_ lived, and so he died. His life a beautiful example of purity ;
and his death a bright ascension to the joys of heaven. His re-
mains lie among the people he last served, and whom he loved
so much, at Clinton, Hunterdon Co., N. J. He has gone before us,

“ Just gone within the veil, where we shall follow,
Not far before us, hardly out of sight,
We down beneath him in this cloudy hollow,
And he far up on yonder sunny height.

“ Forever freed from this, his lonesome prison,
How shall we greet him in that day of days,
When He who died, yea rather who is risen,
Shall these frail frames from dust and darkness raise.”
ABRAHAM GEARHART. 281

REV. ABRAHAM GEARHART.

THE grandfather of our subject was a German, who emigrated
to this country and settled in Hunterdon Co., N. J., when
Abraham’s father was a youth. He was a Christian of the Cal-
vinistic school, and was a member of the ‘‘German Reformed
Church,’’ to which he was warmly attached, and in the faith and
usages of which, he strictly trained his children. After coming into
New Jersey, the family became associated with the ‘‘ Reformed
Protestant Dutch Church,’’ that of their former fellowship not
being accessible. Of this Abraham’s father was long a member
and an officer, being, at the time of his death, a Ruling Elder.
The children, of whom there were sixteen, were reared in ac-
cordance with the usages of this church, and to observe a strict
morality.

Abraham was the thirteenth child, and was born, July 15,
1788. In addition to his moral and religious training, he was
afforded a fair common school education. Being of sedate and
thoughtful temperament, he turned his opportunities to good ac-
count. When of suitable age his father allowed him to choose
between a collegiate education with a view to the ministry, anda
continuance on the farm. He preferred the latter. This decis-
ion, so strange in itself, would probably have been different,
had there been no condition appended to the offer. But not
being a Christian, he ‘could not have felt a special interest in
such a work as the ministry, and must naturally have thought
it improper to commit himself to it, in the absence of any assur-
ance that God would approve the undertaking. Nor is it unlikely
that Providenceinfluenced his choice, as a means of reserving him
for a work for which the proposed course would have failed to
fit him and from which it might have kept him.

He remained at home till May 23, 1811, when he was united
282 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

in marriage to Miss Elizabeth Jolly. She was an excellent
Christian lady, anda member ot the M. E. Church, to the
doctrines and usages of which she was warmly attached. Her
prudent course and Christian influence led to his conversion,
and to a change in the current of his whole life. In 1813, Rev.
Manning Force was invited to preach at their house and baptize
their eldest child. After this they frequently had preaching at
their residence, and as he had not been strongly biased by his
former training, he generally attended the meetings preferred by
his wife. In 1817 they moved to New Providence, where there
was a Methodist church, which, from this time, he regularly at-
tended. In 1819 he was converted and joined the church, under
the ministry of Revs. Asa. Smith and Bartholomew Weed.
Though he had always led a moral life, yet when the Holy
Spirit discovered to him his real condition, his load of guilt and
sense of deep depravity were so great that for about a week he
passed through an earnest penitential struggle. But his con-
version was very clear, and occurred while he was alone in the
barn. He at once felt that he must begin to pray with his
family, but on reaching the house his courage failed him. He
returned to the barn and wrestled in prayer till he felt strong
enough to obey his sense of duty. This course was repeated
three or four times before he conquered. But never after to the
end of life, did he fail to keep the fires of incense burning on the
family altar. His next embarrassment arose from the decided
opposition of his parents to his joining what was now the church
of his choice. To cross their wishes, so earnestly expressed, was
a great trial, but both his convictions and religious interests
summoned him to cast his lot with those who had been instru-
mental in his salvation, and he obeyed the summons.

From about the time of his conversion he felt that God de-
signed that he should preach the gospel. In 1820 he was li-
censed to exhort by Rev. M. Force, and to preach not long af-
terward. In this capacity he traveled extensively, and labored
with great zeal and success. He and other local preachers es-
tablished an appointment at Mount Horeb, formed a society,
and were instrumental in promoting an extensive work of grace.
He often preached several times through the week, besides fill-
ABRAHAM GEARHART. 283

ing his regular Sunday appointments on the ‘‘local plan.’””? On
one occasion, while preaching at a watch-night service, in Union
Village, near New Providence, he was so overwhelmed by divine
power that he remained insensible for several hours. The sur-
rounding scene was grand and glorious beyond description. The
slain of the Lord were many. ‘I'he altar was crowded by weep-
ing penitents, while songs and prayers, cries of distress and
shouts of triumph mingled in great confusion, and yet in sweet
harmony. The whole night was thus spent, during which many
were converted, among whom were two young men who came to
scoff, but remained to pray, and who afterward joined the itiner-
ant ranks.

While thus actively and usefully employed, he felt a growing
impression that his devotion to the great work ought to be unin-
terrupted and entire. Still he felt an unaccountable shrinking
from the itinerancy, and earnestly strove to so labor in a local
sphere as to satisfy his convictions. About the year 1825, this
impression became more clear and distinct, and as he still re-
sisted it, he thought he saw God’s displeasure in pecuniary re-
verses and trials, yet he hoped this was not so, and continued
to hold out. Finally, he was prostrated by severe illness.
Friends and physicians gave up all hope of his recovery. But
to his mind it was made clear that if he would consent to follow
the calls of duty, his life would be prolonged. He acquiesced in
the will of God, and was restored to health.

A printed copy of his last license is preserved. It was con-
ferred by the Quarterly Conference of Hssex Circuit, held at
New Providence, March 22, 1828, and signed by ‘‘ L. M‘Combs,
Presiding Elder, and Philemon Dickinson, Secretary.’’ Rev.
D. Bartine and A. Atwood traveled the cireuit the following
year. After a few months Brother Atwood was sent to Morris-
town to superintend the wonderful revival that then prevailed
there, and Brother Gearhart took his place, and remained about
three months, till Brother Atwood returned.

In 1829 he was received on trial by the Philadelphia Confer-
ence, then in his forty-first year. He passed in due course to
membership in the Conference and to deacon’s and elder’s orders,
both ordinations being conducted by Bishop Hedding. His
284 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

fields of labor were the following: 1829, Warren; 1830, Asbury ;
1831, Hamburg; 1832-33, Warren; 1834, Caldwell ; 1835, King-
wood; 1836, Asbury; 1837, New Germantown and Somerset
Mission; 1838-39, Tuckerton; 1840, Bargaintown; 1841-42,
Cape May; 1843, Cumberland; 1844-45, Atlantic; 1846-47,
Cedarville; 1848-49, Salem; 1850-51, Gloucester; 1852-53,
Pittsgrove; 1854, Tuckerton. Thus it will be seen that, though
he began so late in life, yet he filled out twenty-six consecutive
years as a traveling preacher, by which time he had reached his
sixty-seventh year. The territory he traversed was almost
entirely within the boundaries of New J: ersey. A large portion
of it lay in the more mountainous and rough northern section of
the State, while other portions required long and wearisome
rides in the southern sandy region. His circuits were mostly
large and laborious, subjecting him to great exposures and severe
trials and hardships.

Of the last year of his ministry the Conference Obituary says,
“Half of the year he was left without a colleague, yet not dis-
couraged, he commenced a series of extra meetings, and with
the aid of the local preachers, kept them up with little intermis-
sion through the entire winter.’’ It thus appears that he was
alone during the time of his extra meetings, and it is not un-
likely that the excessive labors thus bestowed, overtaxed his
strength and hastened his end. The same authority says, ‘‘ He
was taken suddenly sick on his way to an appointment at Plea-
sant Mills, on Saturday, and halted at the house of William
Sooy, at Greenbank. The disease increased with great viru-
lence. On Monday he was removed to his home in Tuckerton,
where he lingered till the following Wednesday, when he fell
asleep in Jesus. When he reached home, he was too much re-
duced to hold conversation in regard to his future prospects.
But he had said to Brother Sooy, before his removal, ‘I have no
fear for myself. So far as I am concerned all is well; my only
anxiety is about my family.’ His last words were, ‘My work is
done.’ He died of typhoid fever, March 28, 1855, aged sixty-
six years, eight months, and thirteen days.’’ One son has joined
his father in the spirit-world, while the aged widow, one son,
and three daughters are still (1864) living.
ABRAHAM GEARHART. 285

As a preacher, Abraham Gearhart was plain, practical, stir-
ring, and sometimes eloquent and powerful. A diligent student
of the Bible, and blessed with a memory of wonderful tenacity,
he stored away its treasures in large abundance. To this both
his public ministrations and private conversations bore ample
testimony. His sermons were richly imbued with Bible truth,
and the positions taken in them, strongly fortified by well se-
lected and forcibly applied Scripture proofs. His all-absorbing
aim was success, in seeking which he fully taxed his powers of
both body and mind. He selected his subjects, prepared for the
pulpit, and delivered his sermons with unswerving reference to
practical efficiency. Nor were his labors confined to preaching,
but diligently extended to the social means of' grace, to pastoral
oversight, and especially to the wearing toils of protracted meet-
ings.

As might be expected from such a course, his ministry was
richly fruitful. From the time he commenced to preach in a lo-
cal capacity, he was eminently a revivalist. He expected imme-
diate fruits, and God, who giveth the increase, bonored his faith
and crowned his labors with large success. This was the gene-
ral fact with reference to his whole ministry, and yet we are un-
able to give an extended record of particulars. At Tuckerton, in
1839, thirty or forty were at the altar of a night, and the flame
of revival spread all over the circuit. Nor was his last term
there scarcely less prosperous. In the evening of the day he
died, nineteen were added to the church, as the fruit of an extra
meeting he had just closed. Such men are always popular, and
his frequent return to the same charge shows how well he sus-
tained himself and how eager the people were to enjoy his
ministry.

‘He was a man of great simplicity of character, very fervid
in his religious exercises, and decidedly spiritual as a Christian.”
More than thirty-five years intervened between his conversion
and death. During this period his outward life was correct and
uniform, his fidelity true and unfaltering, and his devotion to
God heart-searching and ingenuous. Thus he attained an en-
larged and mature Christian experience. Hence if he had been
permitted to give a distinct dying testimony, it would have been
286 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

clear and full, and while it would have been acowfort to his friends,
would also have added another to the innumerable list of trium-
phant deaths. But this was not necessary. His faith, piety,
and zeal, nobly witnessed for him, and furnished a ground of
assurance of a safe exit from earth, of infinitely more value than
mere words, for the grace that furnishes to such a life, never
fails in the end to save to the uttermost.

A brief editorial in the Jersey Blue newspaper, issued at
Camden, April 7, 1855, will appropriately close this sketch. In
the comparison instituted the language may be too strong, and
may have resulted from an insufficient knowledge of all the cir-
cumstances. Yet it can never harm ministers to listen to the
views laymen take of their doings.

‘* By the death of this excellent man, the Methodist Church has
lost one of its most sincere and devoted ministers, society an un-
assuming kind-hearted member, and his family an excellent and
exemplary husband and father.

‘*Few men in the ministry have endured greater toils and
privations and received less earthly emolument in the service of
God, and the attempted imitation of Him who ‘ went about doing
good,’ than Mr. Gearhart, and none were ever more cheerful or
more active in the ‘good work.’ Circuits embracing a wide ex-
tent of territory, composed of sea-coast and sand, and a wilderness
of woods, were often assigned as his part of the vineyard, while
younger ministers, more able in body and less able in mind,
less ‘learned in the law’ of God were placed in ‘ Stations,’ where
the pay was more abundant and the labor, in a physical sense,
nothing. Yet, he murmured not, but traversed the wilderness
in sunshine and in storm, by night and by day, with a light
heart and a cheerful temper, content to wait for God’s good
time to rest. That time has come and he has found rest. Let
those ministers who would pray at his grave, pray not for him,
but that they may be like him !”’
JAMES H. PRIMROSE. 287

REV. JAMES H. PRIMROSE.

HE was born in New Castle County, in the State of Delaware,
October 5, 1827. Being deprived of both parents at the age of six
years, he was left to the care of a pious aunt, with whom he re-
mained until about his seventeenth year, when he went to reside
with a married sister in Wilmington, Delaware. Here during a re-
vival in the old Asbury Church he sought and obtained the Divine
favor. After a residence of two years in Wilmington, he re-
moved to Philadelphia and connected himself with St. George’s
Church, where he entered the Sunday-school as a teacher, and
took an active part in prayer-meetings, class-meetings, &c.

In the fall of 1849 he removed to Beverly, New Jersey. The
Methodist Episcopal Church at this time had no organization in
this village. He found, however, a few members there, and they
arranged a meeting through the week for prayer and exhorta-
tion, which increased in interest until in the spring of 1850,
Rev. Edward Page, then preacher in charge on Moorestown Cir-
cuit, formed them into a class and made Beverly a regular
preaching-place. From this time Mr. Primrose was very zea-
lous in promoting the interests of the church both spiritual and
material in that place. During that year a very gracious revival
occurred under the ministry of Revs. Messrs. Page and Hanly,
and more than one hundred persons were added to the little so-
ciety. In all these revival meetings our friend was abundant in
labors, and contributed largely to their success. While engaged
in these services he exhibited such decided qualifications for the
work of the ministry as led his brethren in the beginning of 1837
to confirm his undoubted call to this work. While these meet-
ings were going forward, the society were engaged in the erec-
tion of a church edifice, and to this enterprize he devoted much
288 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

of his time and energy, and had the satisfaction of seeing it
dedicated to the service of God in the following May.

This spring Beverly became a part of Burlington charge, and
in the latter part of May Mr. Primrose was called to supply the
place of junior preacher on Moorestown Circuit.

In 1852 he was admitted on trial in the New Jersey Annual
Conference, and appointed to New Egypt Circuit; in 1853 to
Rhodestown Station. In 1854 he was admitted into full con-
nection and appointed to Atlantic Circuit. On the fourteenth
of June following this last appointment, he was married to Miss
Hannah Jones of Beverly. He now entered upon what he
deemed his life-work with great diligence; having felt deeply
his want of suitable qualifications for so responsible a position,
he did not until after many struggles and some considerable ex-
perience fully settle the question of duty. The line of duty was
now clear, and he seemed to ‘‘ scorn delights,’’ and devote him-
self to laborious days: he studied closely, was much in prayer
and attended with great fidelity to all departments of his work.

In the spring of 1855 he was returned to the same charge,
and met with no interruption to his labors until the following
November, when he had an attack of illness from which he
never recovered. His last sermon was preached on the Sab-
bath before Christmas, though, through all his sickness, which
continued about four months, he continued to look forward to
his recovery, and fondly cherished the belief that he should
again resume the work in which he had found so much pleasure.
God, however, had ordered otherwise.

On Sunday evening, March sixteenth, he inquired of his wife
if the light in the room was not very dim, saying he could
scarcely see. It then became apparent that he was approaching
the dark valley, and that its shadows were already obscuring the
light of life. He inquired of some friends who were present if
they thought he was dying, and on receiving an affirmative re-
ply he said, ‘‘ Amen! I am ready. My work isdone! Halle-
lujah!’’ He then took an affectionate farewell of all present.
Calling his wife to his side he said, ‘‘I leave a good-night
for all my friends.’’ Taking her hand he said to her ten-
derly, ‘‘ Trust in God, it will not be long till we meet again: I
JAMES H. PRIMROSE. 289

shall look for you in every ship that arrives.”’ About midnight
he opened his eyes, and gazing upward exclaimed with seem-
ing surprise, ‘‘The clouds are clearing away. The sky is bright.”’
His pure spirit had doubtless caught some glimpses of those
bright and cloudless skies which canopy the redeemed: these
were his last words. In a few moments his soul, calmly trusting
in the Saviour of sinners, took its departure to the paradise of
angels and God.

Our dear departed brother possessed a remarkable combina-
tion of energy and amiability. He was eminently unselfish, ever
ready to sacrifice interest to duty, esteeming the rewards of well
doing in the cause of his Redeemer far above any merely earthly
gains. His generous nature adorned with the graces of religion
made him a very agreeable companion ; hopeful and cheerful, he
presented a beautiful embodiment of the spirit of our blessed
Christianity.

As a preacher, he was earnest, practical and faithful, and was,
accordingly, a successful minister of Christ. He had many seals
to his ministry, and many in the day of eternity will rise up and
call him blessed.

“Servant of God, well done!
Thy glorious warfare’s past ;
The battle’s fought, the race is won,
And thou art crowned at last.”

14
290 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

REV. CURTIS TALLEY.

Curtis TaLLey, was born Nov. 19, 1807, near Wilmington,
Del., and died at Pennington, N. J., Dec. 5, 1855, aged forty-
eight years.

His parents were respectable people, and his mother was a
member of the Methodist Episcopal Church, connected with
one of the societies of old Chester Circuit, Philadelphia Confer-
ence,

Brother Talley spent his youth at home, dividing his time be-
tween labor and books, except a winter or two, passed at an
academy in a neighboring town. His father’s house being not
far from one of the regular preaching-places on the circuit, he
was, from his earliest. years, an attendant on the worship, and
familiar with the doctrines and usages of the Methodists.

In the 23d year of his age, he was converted, and united with
the church, and the next year, was appointed class-leader, and
licensed as an exhorter. He was zealous, laborious and ac-
ceptable in conducting religious service at little neighborhood
gatherings, and saw much good done. Two years later, (in
1833,) at a quarterly meeting held by Lawrence McCombs, at the
Grove Church, he was licensed as a local preacher, and three
months afterward, was recommended to the Philadelphia
Annual Conference, as a candidate for the itinerant ministry.

Brother Talley often referred to his labors as an exhorter and
local preacher on Chester Circuit. Among his neighbors and
friends, many souls were converted, during the last year of these
his early ministrations; and he seemed to regard this period as
the happiest, and he sometimes said, the most useful part of his
life. One incident which he used to relate, is worthy of record
as an example of the ‘‘diversities of operations’? wrought by
“the same God which worketh all inall.’’ Brother Talley had

&
CURTIS TALLEY. ; 291

been conducting a series of meetings at a school-house, and a
revival was in progress. One evening, the little room was filled
with people, and the meeting waxed warmer and warmer.
Seven persons were kneeling at a bench, seeking the pardon of
their sins. While all were engaged in fervent, importunate
prayer, there came an overwhelming influence, as sudden as the
rushing mighty wind and the tongues of fire on the day of Pen-
tecost. Every believer at the same moment felt its power, and
either bowed beneath it in speechless rapture, or shouted aloud
in anecstasy of holy joy. And at the self-same instant, the seven
persons seeking peace with God, ‘‘ passed from death unto life,”
and began to weep happy tears, or praise the Lord aloud for his
pardoning grace.

Brother Talley was received on trial by the Philadelphia Con-
ference, in April, 1834. His subsequent appointments were ag
follows :—

1834-5. Asbury Circuit. 1844-5. Crosswicks.

1836. Caldwell Circuit. 1846-7. Nyack.

1837. Belleville. 1848-9. Springfield.

1838. Madison. 1850-1. Pennington.
1839-40. Somerville. 1852. Rahway.

1841-2. Woodbridge. 1853. Quakertown Circuit.

1843. Perth Amboy.

In Nov. 1836, he was united in marriage with Miss Agnes C.
Crane, who, with their only child, a daughter, survives the
husband and the father.

Twenty years, as shown above, filled the measure of Brother
Talley’s life in the effective ministry. For some years previous
to his death, there were indications of a tendency to pulmonary
disease, and his health was gradually declining. He struggled
on, however, hoping against hope,’’ until at last, his disease be-
came so aggravated, that hecould no longer hide from his owneyes
the fact that he must seek at least a temporary respite from labor;
and at the New Brunswick session of the New Jersey Confer-
ence, in 1854, he was constrained to ask for a supernumerary re-
lation. The love of life was strong within him, and love for the
work of the ministry was even stronger. As the weary months
passed on, and his flesh wasted, and strength declined, and while
292 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

the cough of the consumptive grew more and more hollowand pain-
ful, he clung to the idea that he should yet return to the work with
new energies of body and soul. While the process of inexorable
decay was apparent to every other eye, he talked continually of
recovering ; and his almost invariable reply to inquiries after his
health was, that he hoped he was gaining somewhat. In the
last stages of his disease, he was confined to the house only nine
days, and to his bed only three. And even when prostrated to
rise no more, he manifested a strange tenacity of the idea of
living, remarking on one occasion that ‘‘ No one could tell what
the Lord might do for him even yet.’’ But in all this delusive
hopefulness, this eager grasping at longer life, there was no mur-
muring, no dread of death, no desire to live, save for good pur-
poses, and in accordance with the Divine will. A few days be-
fore his departure, he said, ‘‘Oh, if I could only preach the
blessed gospel once more to my fellow men, how would my heart
rejoice’? When he felt that the end was at hand, he was per-
fectly resigned to the Divine will, saying, to a brother in the
ministry, ‘‘I feel that my work is done; if my good Lord would
cut the cord that now binds me to earth, how delightfully would
I pass away and be at rest. I wish you, my brother, to give my
love to the Conference. Say to the preachers that I still love
them; and that the same doctrines preached by me while in
health, afford me the greatest comfort now, when I am about to
die.’’ He then exclaimed :—

“ Jordan’s streams shall not o’erflow me
While my Saviour’s by my side;
Canaan, Canaan, lies before me,
Rise and cross the swelling tide.”

This calm faith and hope sustained him to the last. His mind
never wandered for an instant. Reason and memory were clear
and strong to life’s utmost verge ; and thus his dying testimony
is unclouded even by the flitting shadow of a momentary delirium.
He died a little past midnight, on the morning of Wednesday,
Dec. 5, 1855, so gently that they who watched the scene, knew
not when the freed spirit passed away.
CURTIS TALLEY. 298

As a Christian, Brother Talley was devout, earnest, and con-
sistent, publicly and privately, in word and deed. The gospel
of peace was his chief joy, and he clung to its blessed truths with
a confidence that never wavered. The leading features of his
piety were reverence and conscientiousness.

As a preacher, he did not excel in those qualities which at-
tract the superficial hearer. His sermons were eminently scrip-
tural, abounding in the very ‘‘words which the Holy Ghost
teacheth,’’ and deriving their illustrations principally from the
Scripture narratives. His knowledge of the Bible, indeed, was
uncommonly full and accurate. In preaching, his range of sub-
jects was not extensive. Christ the Redeemer, the Holy Ghost
the Purifier and the Comforter, were his favorite themes. He
loved to exhort to repentance, faith, hope, and holiness, nor did
-he care to travel in speculation beyond what God has revealed.
The general effect of his ministrations was to ‘‘ edify the Church”’
rather than to impress the careless. The matter and the me-
thod of his sermons were far better than the manner of delivery.
His utterance was not loud nor violent, and yet it was somewhat
constrained, and to himself laborious, not exactly in accordance
with the mechanics of natural modes of speech. Had his style
been more easy and conversational, his ministrations would have
been more attractive to general audiences, and very possibly
might not have terminated so soon.

As a pastor and general manager of church business, Brother
Talley excelled. A friendly nature and conciliatory manners won
the love and respect of the church and the community wherever
his lot was cast. He paid unusual attention to the records of
his various charges, and looked closely after all that pertained to
the church debts and church improvements. Through his in-
strumentality, parsonages were erected at Somerville, Wood-
bridge, and Springfield, and the church at each of those places,
as well as that at Perth Amboy, was repaired and put in good
order.

Comparing his annual reports with those of his predecessors,
we find that during his pastorates there was, in the aggregate,
an increase in the membership, though this increase is not great,
and it is probably safe to say that he left all his charges stronger,
294 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

religiously and financially, than he found them. In the number
of conversions reported, his first year at Pennington was the
most successful one, the Minutes of 1851 recording sixty-five
probationers in that place.

As a Methodist, Brother Talley was loyal and enthusiastic.
He was clear and decided in his views of doctrine, and strongly
conservative in regard to polity and usage. He hoped for no-
thing better than the ‘‘old paths,’’ and denounced, in unsparing
terms, all departure therefrom as needless changes and false re-
forms.

In intellect, he was a strong and patient thinker, looking at
things in a matter-of-fact way, with but little play of the imagi-
nation. He had a remarkably tenacious memory, especially
stored with Scripture facts and language. In heart he was
friendly, ‘‘ easy to be entreated,’’ and without much of what men
call a knowledge of the world. He was accordingly scrupulous
in paying his debts, but aside from this, set little value on
money. In fact, he was too generous toward others to be just
to himself. On one occasion, at least, the anniversaries and
other appeals for money at the session of the Conference com-
pletely emptied his scanty purse, and he was compelled to bor-
row a few dollars to enable him to reach his new field of Jabor.
ISRAEL SAUNDERS CORBIT. 295

REV. ISRAEL SAUNDERS CORBIT.

Tr is always a sadly-pleasing task to sketch the lines which are
to delineate the life and character of a deceased friend. Love
will hallow the labor, tears will bedew it, and memory be ten-
derly careful of the facts which make up his record, and, al-
though a review of his past history will tinge the heart with
mournfulness, yet the hand will perform gladly the labor which
rescues that history from the waters of forgetfulness.

With feelings of this nature, the writer has approached the
work assigned him by the Conference in the preparation of a
sketch embracing the brief but brilliant career of Israel Saunders
Corbit.

He was born in the city of Philadelphia, February 16, 1817.
His parents were members of the Methodist Episcopal Church,
and strove to imbue him deeply in the days of his childhood
with the truth and excellence both of the principles of religion
and their practice in the life. In this laudable effort they were
more than ordinarily successful, and the character of the boy as-
sumed a seriousness and solemnity which even at that early age led
him to prefer serious reading and meditation to the usual sports
of boyhood, and probably gave the color to all his future life.

At the age of twelve he was taken from school, and placed in
the store of Mr. Jacob Carrigan, of Philadelphia, whose kindly
watchfulness over all those dangerous years when boyhood passes
into manhood, secured from its recipient a grateful friendship
which only ended with his life.

His brother, Rev. Wm. P. Corbit, says of him, ‘‘To the best
of my knowledge, in all these years he was never known to be
guilty of falsehood, profane swearing, or Sabbath-breaking.
His evenings were generally spent at home with the family in
296 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

the study of useful works, especially those which treated of the
doctrines and usages of the Church, to which he afterwards con-
secrated his labors and his life. Even in those days the impres-
sion would sometimes come upon him that this would be his
duty. He shrank from this idea, and trembled at the possibility
of its fulfillment, but amid all his fears and doubts, it would often
force itself upon him, and cause unspeakable misery to his ten-
der mind, as he realized his own incompetency for so great a
task. He was still unconverted, but no inducements could win
his consent to enter a ball-room ora theatre. His tastes led him
on the contrary to wander alone amidst the scenery which sur-
rounded his native city: and while his companions were spend-
ing their hours in the excitements of those places, he was revel-
ing in the glory of God’s splendid handiwork, and tinging his
nature with that love for everything beautiful which afterward
lent so chaste and delicate an eloquence to his public ministra-
tions.

His Sabbaths were uniformly spent in attendance upon Divine
worship, and in the labors of the Sabbath-school. Atanearly age
he was madea teacher, which office was filled with unswerving fidel-
ity. After his own class had been taught he would walk over into
the more destitute parts of the city, and, gathering the negtected
little ones of that locality into a class, would endeavor to teach
them the sublime truths of a religion which he reverenced and
Joved, but as yet had never experienced. Years after he was
dead, the writer attended the Quarterly Conference of a colored
church, where its pastor declared in language of grateful enthu-
siasm, that he had acquired a deep love for the Sabbath-school
interests from experiencing the beneficial effects of one which
was carried on among these people by Brother Corbit. A nature
like this could not be left unnoticed of God. Powerful religious
emotions began to agitate him, the great deeps of his soul were
broken up under the power of the Divine Spirit, his nature felé
the need of a renewal in righteousness, and in the winter of 1837
in St. George’s Church, under the ministry of the Rev. Mr.
Pitman, he made a public acknowledgment of his need of Christ,
and sought him for a Saviour.

He afterwards said it seemed to him as if the happiness of his
ISRAEL SAUNDERS CORBIT. 297

whole eternity hung upon the plea that he presented on that
night. Hour after hour he struggled on with a passionate energy
and fervor that would not be denied. So intense was the struggle
that he was lost to all surrounding circumstances. The perspira-
tion started from every pore—his physical energies were exerted
to their utmost capacity, his mind seized the sins of his life and
forced them toward the atonement, and his spirit struggled to
compel their union. So prostrated was his frame by these
exercises that it was weeks before his system regained its
usual tone. But the conflict was not in vain, for late on that
night the Divine Saviour came to his assistance—the hard-
fought battle was over, and his soul rejoiced in God his Sa-
viour.

He now devoted himself with freshened zeal to the moral and
religious duties which had previously engaged his attention, and
soon began to feel the revival of his boyish impressions regard-
ing the preaching of the gospel.

Day and night, at home and abroad, an inward voice was con-
tinually saying to him,

Go sound the gospel jubilee,

And tell poor sinners Christ has died,
Say to a bondaged world, Be Free,

For mercy’s door is opened wide.

A period of deep distress now commenced its reign within his
soul. The call of God was clear and unmistakable—his own
sense of unfitness was positive—he was naturally extremely diffi-
dent, and his soul heaved and surged in the conflict, till he was
almost driven to despair. Over and over would he exclaim in
the anguish of his spirit, O Lord, send by whom thou wilt, but
oh, send not me! I cannot, oh, I cannot, do this thing that
thou requirest. The cross is heavier than I can bear. But the
pressure of (Fod’s Spirit upon his own, became so powerful that
he dared not longer resist, and sorrowfully exclaiming, ‘‘ Thy
will be done,’’ he devoted his whole attention to the work of
preparation for his solemn calling.

In the autumn of 1843 he was invited by Rev. James Ayers,
who was then stationed at Long Branch, to assist him in filling
298 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

some small appointments contiguous to the charge. The invita-
tion was accepted, and he labored with both energy and success
in Eatontown, Rumsum, Red Bank and other places near Long
Branch.

He was there but a few months, and his labors were extended
over a considerable territory, yet, many persons still remember,
with fond affection, his graceful eloquence and gentle qualities,
and ‘‘ weep his memory still.”’

In the spring of 1844 he was unanimously recommended by
the Quarterly Conference of Long Branch Station, to the New
Jersey Annual Conference as a suitable person to enter the travel-
ing connection, and was received on trial at its session in Tren-
ton, and appointed to Madison Circuit, as a colleague of Rev. L.
R. Dunn. The circuit was small, embracing but four or five
appointments, only two of which had churches, and these small
and incommodious. At Madison, which was the head-quarters
of the circuit, they preached in an umbrella factory, and at
Washington Square, another important part of the charge, in a
school-house. Both these brethren were of fastidious tastes,
taken from cities where church accommodations were constructed
with a view to refinement and comfort, and in ordinary matters
the transition would have been a most repulsive one. Besides
this, the support was meager, and the members few; but, they
were laboring for souls, and no appointment of his work was
ever more cheerfully taken or faithfully executed than this one.
This was largely a year of spiritual conflict. His brethren ac-
corded him the possession of superior natural powers, and his
close attention to study made those powers still more efficient.
But his own estimate of himself differed from that of his breth-
ren, every sermon seemed to him a failure, every comparison
between himself and other ministers to his vision sank him
lower, and he was often tempted to abandon the work in despair,
and return to his former occupation. But the Divine impression
was too strong, and he fought the battle successfully, and at the
close of the year consecrated himself afresh and for life, to the
work of the ministry.

His next charge was Somerville, an important county town,
in the centre of the state. Here his pulpit’ manner, as
ISRAEL SAUNDERS CORBIT. 299

well as the dignity and propriety of his life, gave him large
congregations, and produced a favorable impression upon the
community for the cause he represented. Members of other de-
nominations charmed by the elevated style of his preaching, and
allured by the eloquence of its delivery, were frequently found
among his hearers, while his own people received from his de-
voted attention to all their interests, strong encouragement in
maintaining their Methodistic position in the community.

Perhaps by no portion of the people was he held in more
grateful remembrance than by the colored portion of the church.
Nearly one-third of the membership was composed of these
people, and their class in which they generally had a ‘good
time’ met immediately after morning preaching. It was his
practice to remain with them and listen to their rude and un-
cultivated expressions of experience, join with them in the ex-
cited spirituality of their worship, and advise them as to the
best mode of resisting the peculiar temptations of their lives.
They loved him with a fervor correspondent to his efforts for
their welfare, and while the refined and cultivated sorrowed over
his removal from their midst, these humble servants of Christ
probably mourned his loss more deeply than any others, while he
himself always remembered his labors among them with pecu-
liar spiritual gratification.

In the spring succeeding, he was sent to Orange, a beautiful
village, situated on the margin of the City of Newark, where he
remained two years. During this time he devoted himself’ unre-
mittingly to the improvement of his powers in order to more ex-
tended influence in the work to which he had been called, and
made rapid advancement both in mental culture and physical
oratory. He had been in the habit of constantly violating one
of those sanitary rules of our Discipline which require a man not
to speak too loud. Harnest to a fault, he had acquired a style of
delivery which verged upon the boisterous, and which both les-
sened its effect and deteriorated the powers of his physical sys-
tem.

His esteemed friend, Samuel Hurlbut, Esq., called his atten-
tion repeatedly to this fact, and finally succeeded in making him
sensible of it for himself. ‘‘To show you how important I

t
300 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

esteem it,’’ said Brother Hurlbut, ‘‘I will engage to present you
with a complete set of Clarke’s Commentaries as soon as in your
own opinion you have succeeded in overcoming it.”” He aroused
his attention to the matter, and soon succeeded in relieving his
efforts from the overloading of a style, which had already seri-
ously injured his lungs and impeded the success of his preaching,
and it may be proper to add that a short time afterward Mr.
Hurlbut sent him the Commentaries as fairly earned, and which
were used by him in pulpit studies till the end of life.

At the close of his labors here he was enabled to report a fair
addition to the membership of the church and a considerable
improvement to its property, while his Conference examinations
won him high encomiums from the committees to whom they had
been referred.

The appointment which succeeded this was Camden, where
he was sent as colleague to Rev. D. W. Bartine.

The membership of the Third Street church in that city had
for a considerable period of time been watching with interest
the growth of the southern portion of their municipality, and
waiting for a proper moment to locate a new church enterprise in
its midst. In their judgment that time had arrived, and they so-
licited the authorities to organize it. Their judgment concurred
with that of the brethren, and Brother Corbit was appointed
to them in view of the successful forwarding of their enterprise.
During all the early part of the year his weakened lungs forbade
active exertion, and he became seriously alarmed for his health.
But rest, and proximity to his native air restored him, and the
fall and winter were given to vigorous exertion. A school-house
was procured, in which to hold Divineservice. A Sabbath-school
was organized, Bible classes were formed, the people pastorally
visited, Trustees elected, subscriptions solicited, contracts made,
and the church pushed rapidly forward and completed. A series
of meetings were held which resulted in the conversion of many
precious souls, a number of whom still stand among the most
efficient members of the society, and revere his memory with
the fondest and tenderest love.

At the close of his labors here he was united in marriage to
Miss Mary, daughter of the late General Reed of Mount Holly,
ISRAEL SAUNDERS CORBIT. 301

and appointed to Princeton Circuit. For along time the Con-
ference had been desirous of establishing a Methodist society in
that classic and beautiful town, but untila short period previous
to this, had been entirely unsuccessful. The mass of the people
had not regarded the project with favor, and a suitable location
at a reasonable price had been found an impossibility. A lot was
finally purchased by a private individual, resold to the society,
which had been previously organized by Rev. T. T. Campfield.
Rev. Joseph Ashbrook succeeded him, and commenced the
building, and the whole conference interested itself in taking
collections for the furtherance of the object. It was at
this period that Brother Corbit received his appointment
and commenced his work. He interested himself immediately
in the Sabbath-school, ever a favorite field of labor. He begged
money in adjacent places, often receiving only a quarter of a
dollar as the result of a personal application. He made the
acquaintance of the prominent citizens, many of whom contrib-
uted liberally to the cause. The students of its noble seminary,
charmed with his brilliant oratory, largely attended his preach-
ing. Many of the people, impressed with the intense earnest-
ness of his manner, were found among the attendants upon his
ministry, and a fair congregation soon rewarded his exertions.
All this time the church was being pushed forward to completion,
and was dedicated in the fall by that ‘‘ Master in Israel,’’ Rev.
Charles Pitman. A revival of religion speedily followed, through
the instrumentality of which, over eighty persons connected
themselves with the infant society, giving it at once, a standing
and a power in the community. So rapidly had the interests of
the church advanced under his care that at the close of his first
year, it was deemed advisable to separate it from the circuit,
and erect it into an independent charge, which was accordingly
done, and Brother Corbit reappointed to Princeton alone.
This year also he labored with unswerving fidelity in all the
departments of his work, confirming and strengthening all the
interests committed to his care, and superadding many an irksome
hour to the care of its finances.

Tn 1852 he received an appointment to Trinity Church, Jersey
City, one of the most important stations in the Conference.
302 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

Here as elsewhere his pulpit popularity gave him large congre-
gations, and frequently commanded the attention of the press.
A powerful revival of religion-blessed his ministry, and quickened
the church. Its property was materially improved, and he closed
his labors there with a reputation for effectiveness in his work
which was scarcely surpassed by any of the ‘‘strong men in
Zion’ who had preceded him in the appointment.

His last appointment was Bordentown, a beautiful location on
the Delaware.

His health was now good and his mind expanded, and he felt
himself at liberty to make large additions to his previous plans
of systematic study, the result of which was soon apparent in
the increased efficiency of pulpit service. A mile below the town
lay the village of White Hill, occupied principally by the em-
ployees of the Camden and Amboy Rail Road Company. There
was no place of worship in the village, but few of the inhabitants
felt sufficiently interested in religion to walk to Bordentown to
church, and he determined in addition to his other labors to sup-
ply, if possible, their lack of accommodation. The Rail Road
Company co-operated with him, some prominent members of the
church at Bordentown assisted, the people of the village did
what they could, and a house of worship soon crowned the efforts
which they made, in which the community still gather for their wor-
ship. But hisardent spirit could not rest even with thisadditional.
labor. The boatmen of the Delaware and Raritan Canal, which
terminates at Bordentown, as well as the raftsmen and boatmen
of the river, generally spent their Sabbaths in utter disregard of
all the claims of religion. While engaged in their occupations,
their opportunities were rare, and when lying at the town, their
inclinations did not lead them to the house of God. His soul
became deeply exercised in their behalf. Could not he do some-
thing for them ? became a question to be spread before the Lord.
After mature consideration he decided to establish afternoon
preaching in the open air, at the confluence of the river and ca-
nal. Here, upon one inclement day, when worn down with la-
bor, and still wet with perspiration from the exercises of the
morning, he waited half an hour, chilled and shivering, for the
gathering of the congregation. He returned home with a vio-
ISRAEL SAUNDERS CORBIT. 303

lent cold, which immediately settled upon his lungs. Anintense
inflammation succeeded, and he was prostrated at once. All
possible efforts under the direction of the best medical skill were
made to arrest its progress, but in vain, and it soon became ap-
parent to his friends, though not to himself, that consumption was
fast settling upon his vitals. He was now to enter upon a new
phase of Christian experience, and one which tried his spirit to
the uttermost. The valley of affliction was before him, and God
was calling him to travel it. Hitherto his life had been all ac-
tive labor, and in that activity for God his soul had found its
elements of happiness. In the strong excitements of the minis-
try, in the prayer and class-meetings of the church, in pastoral
visiting, in church enterprises, and, above all, in the preaching
of the gospel, the morbid melancholy of his temperament had
been counteracted, and his inward spirituality increased. But
now all this was to be changed. The knee was to be bent no
more amidst the families of his people, the mind no longer gratify
its energies in the preparation of his sermons, and the voice
never again utter the ‘‘cross story’’ in the pulpit. He knew not
how to meet this. In his own opinion his capacity for useful-
ness was just beginning, and it was impossible to suppose its
close. He was not afraid to die, for both his heart and imagi-
nation had long since clothed the second Eden in forms of
beauty, but to him the work of the vineyard, while the power
of manhood endured, was preferable even to heaven. He could
not believe that his work was done, and his nervous system fret-
ted at an inactivity which seemed an ignoring of the great ob-
jects to which he had consecrated his existence. The dew of
early manhood was yet upon his brow, his intellect was just
reaching its maturity, his luxurious imagination had been chas-
tened and subdued, his language bad acquired a plain and beau-
tiful polish, his sweet and solemn voice was never more sympa-
thetic, and all his powers were capable of a more intelligent and
successful labor than ever before. His contemplations of heaven
had been of the victor’s crown, whose splendor was proportioned
to the amount of toil and battle, and for death to seize him now,
appeared like destroying his power to contest the prize. He
had not yet understood that the passive graces of the Spirit were
1
’

304 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

as costly jewels in that crown as those of active warfare. He
had not seen the road to heaven as lying through much tribula-
tion, or that the loftiest sanctification was attained through suf-
fering. But he was to understand it now. His physical strength
was prostrated, the fever was eating out his life, his nerves sank
into hopeless depression, and his mental power weakened till he
wept over its imbecility. His spirit shared the general prostra-
tion, and a mist of darkness stood between him and his Maker.
God's face was dark to him, and Christ he could not see at all.
But soon all this darkness disappeared, and the light of God
shone clearly to the last. The imaginative power of his soul was
resurrected from its stupor, and lined the further shore with
beauty, while his heart exerted its faith afresh, and rejoiced in
tribulation, and his whole nature resigned itself for direction to
the providence of God.

His love for the church of his choice was absorbing. A short
time before he died he said to the writer who was standing by
his bed, to receive his last message to his brethren in the minis-
try, while the dying hand clasped the living one, ‘‘Tell the
preachers that I love them, that I am happy in God, and that I
want them to pray for me. I had hoped to meet them at the
Conference, but I cannot do so now.’’ He was silent for a little
time, and then bursting into tears exclaimed, ‘‘Tell them I die
with the love of the Methodist itinerancy as strong in my heart
as ever.” To Rev. Charles EH. Hill, on the last morning of his
life he said, ‘‘ When! oh when! will the fetters break that bind
me to this clay? When shall my triumphant spirit go to grasp
the God I seek?

“Tn rapturous awe on him to gaze,
Who bought the sight for me,
And shout and wonder at his grace,
To all eternity.”

He paused a little and then resumed, ‘‘When! oh when! on
spirit wing shall I rise above this clay, and look down upon the
stars as burning dust beneath my feet? Iam very, very, very
unworthy, but I lean upon the atonement. ’Tis not by works
of righteousness which I have done, but by his mercy he saves
ISRAEL SAUNDERS CORBIT. 305

me.’ Then turning his head he faintly, but distinctly uttered,
Tam happy, happy, happy—farewell.

On that same morning he exhorted a friend to seek the Lord.
Iam now, said he, about to pass through the valley of the
shadow of death, but I fear no evil; Heis with me. His rod
and His staff they comfort me. There was then a profound
silence which was broken by his little boy, who said, ‘‘ Nobody
talks.’’ Once more that solemn voice broke the stillness of the
death chamber as he replied, ‘‘ Yes, my son, God talks.”” His
brother, Rev. W. P. Corbit, asked him ‘‘if he had any fears ?”’
‘* No” wasthe immediate reply. ‘‘Are your prospects bright ?’’
he asked again. ‘‘ Yes,’’ was answered as quickly. Then simply
saying to his brother, ‘‘Be good,”’ eighteen months after the
commencement of his illness he sank into the arms alike of
death and Jesus.

He died during the session of the Conference. Resolutions
were passed by them, appreciative of his character, and tender-
ing sympathy to bereaved friends. A committee was also ap-
pointed to attend his funeral at Mount Holly, 2 member of
which, Rev. J. K. Shaw, had been previously selected by him
to preach his funeral sermon. After its delivery his body was
deposited in the beautiful cemetery of that town, there to await
the general resurrection at the last day.

In a sketch kindly contributed to this memoir, by Rev. L. R.
Dunn, his character is sketched with a fidelity so discriminating
that no other could, with propriety, take its place. ‘‘ Refined
in his tastes and feelings, noble and high-minded, he scorned
any action that bore the slightest impress of’ littleness. In ap-
pearance he was commanding, in apparel neat to an extreme,
and in intercourse with the people both prudent and careful,
while there was no appearance of stiffness or chilling reserve.
He observed great regularity in his habits, rising in the morn-
ing, between four and five, and pursuing his studies until twelve.
After dinner his time was principally spent in pastoral duties.
His preaching at that time was of a high order for one so young
in the ministry, his sermons being both clear and carefully
studied. His descriptive powers were superior, and some por-
tions of his sermons were adorned with the most beautiful and

20
306 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

eloquent language. His manner was very earnest, employing a
large amount of physical energy in delivery without degener-
ating into boisterousness. The most refined taste could not be
offended either with the sermons or their delivery, while their
impression upon the community was that of a workman that
needed not to be ashamed. Had he been spared, he would, no
doubt, have become one of the ablest ministers in the Con-
nection.”

In association with others he was especially careful lest some
inconsiderate remark might wound their feelings.

If in conversation, a level below that of ministerial dignity was
reached, he would gently rebuke it, and in the pulpit he never
descended from that dignity. In friendship he was capable of
the strongest attachments, and few sacrifices were too great for
those he loved. In his family his constant endeavor was to de-
velop the character of the Christian husband and father. His
devotion to the church of his choice was unbounded. All her
peculiarities were dear to him, and he had small sympathy with
those who were continually speaking of her infirmities. The sen-
timent sent from his dying bed to his brethren in the ministry
may be taken as the abiding one of his life.

But he has gone from her altars to those of a higher worship.

“Gone in life’s golden prime,
Its sunlight in his eye,
He might not find till gray old age,
A nobler time to die.”
WILLIAM V. DARROW. 307

REV. WILLIAM V. DARROW.

“Go preach my gospel saith the Lord,
Bid the whole world my grace receive,
He shall he saved who trusts my word,
And he condemned who won’t believe.”

Wi1am V. Darrow, the subject of this brief sketch, was
porn in Camden County, New Jersey, on the 20th day of March,
1819. Ata very early period of life he felt he was a sinner, and
needed a change of heart to make him happy. Still, though
convinced of duty, he did not consent to its performance until
his twenty-third year. Unable longer to resist the Spirit’s in-
fluences without great violence to his moral nature, he then
yielded to gospel claims, and was clearly and happily converted
to God.

His situation in life was not the most favorable for intellec-
tual or spiritual growth, and yet his advance in both was com-
mendable. The best evidence of’ his talents, zeal, and piety, is
in the fact that he secured the approbation of the church, and
in 1849 was licensed to exhort. In this department of the
church’s labor, he went forth industriously, and was so far suc-
cessful, that the next year he was licensed to preach. Here,
too, he was diligent.

An important period of his history soon arrived. Recom-
mended to the Annual Conference, he went up with fear and
trembling, to the session held at Jersey City in 1851, where he
was received on trial, and sent to Allowaystown and Hancock’s
Bridge.

There are few scenes on earth more intensely interesting, than
a young man going forth to dedicate his life to the work of
saving souls. The wide world is before him. Hearts steeped
in sin are hard and will resist the appeals of truth. Discourage-
308 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

ments multiplied in number, and various in form, oppress his
spirits. He may be led sometimes to distrust the divinity of his
call, and yielding to Satanic influence, be almost ready to re-
linguish effort, and return to his home. But retiring to his
closet his ease is once more laid before the Lord. Relieved of a
degree of sadness he resolves to persevere. With an encouraged
faith, he repairs to the pulpit and preaches the simple gospel
of the grace of God, relying on him whose word he utters.
Hearts are touched, and eyes overflow with tears. He labors
on, and gathers a rich harvest of immortal souls. So, if the
man be earnest, and his heart sincere, success in some degree
will always crown his efforts, and whatever men may say,
God will approve at last.

Every position in life has its trials, and the gospel ministry its
full share, but the inspiring consideration, ‘‘ He that converteth
a sinner from the error of his ways, saves a soul from death,”
has caused many a noble youth to exclaim with the Apostle
Paul, ‘‘None of these things move me, neither count I my life
dear unto myself, so that I might finish my course with joy, and
the ministry which I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify
the gospel of the grace of God.”’

Tt was so with William V. Darrow. He went forth to his life-
work, though fearing, yet unmoved by fear, trusting in Him
who said, ‘‘Lo J am with you always, even unto the end of the
world.”’ ;

He was not without success. At his first appointment he re-
mained one year, and some souls were added to the Lord.
In 1852 he was placed in charge of Atlantic Circuit, a position
of considerable importance for so young a minister, and so well
did he sustain himself in that important field, that after being
ordained a deacon in 1853, he was returned to it again. His
labors while there, were blest in the conversion of more than a
hundred souls, all of whom we earnestly hope, will rise up in
the day of eternity and call him blessed.

In 1854 he was stationed at Winslow. In this interesting
little manufacturing town, there were also seals to his ministry,
and more than a score were added to the church.

At the session of the Conference held in the Central Methodist
‘ WILLIAM V. DARROW. 809

Episcopal Church, Newark, in the spring of 1855, he was or-
dained an elder, and appointed to Bargaintown Circuit. He
entered upon the duties of his new charge with much spirit and
promise of usefulness. His labors in the early part of the season
resulted in the conversion of over half'a hundred souls, and the
church was greatly encouraged. But the days of his activity
were numbered. He was laid upon a bed of sickness where his
sufferings were extreme. Here he was patient, and his reliance
upon Christ unbroken.

During an interview with his Presiding Elder, Rev. I. N.
Felch, he referred to the probability of meeting no more on
earth, then exclaimed exultingly, ‘‘ We shall meet in heaven,
hallelujah, glory to God.’’ On another occasion he expressed
his deep regret that he had not lived more holy, and that his
ministry had not been more successful in bringing sinners to
Christ, but his trust was in the blood of atonement which would
cover all his imperfections. Four days before his death he re-
ferred to the approaching Quarterly Meeting, and said, ‘‘I shall
meet my brethren no more in the church below, but while they
worship God here, I shall be enjoying his presence before the
throne above.”’

Near the closing hour he expressed anxiety for his family,
but he quieted himself with the Divine assurance, ‘‘The Lord
will provide.”’ ‘‘As for me, it is better to depart and be with
Christ, where I shall be free from all pain and suffering.’’ These
were his last words, then calmly and quietly on the 24th of
January, 1856, he fell asleep in Jesus.

“Father, to us vouchsafe the grace,
Which brought our friend victorious through ;
Let us his shining footsteps trace ;
Let us his steadfast faith pursue ;
Follow this follower of the Lamb,
And conquer all through Jesus’ name.”
310. NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL. :

REY. ICHABOD B. CARMICHAEL.

“Happy, if with my latest breath,
I may but gasp his name};
Preach him to all, and ery in death,
Behold, behold the Lamb !”

IcHasop B. CarmicHavt was born in the year 1823. In
early life he was brought under religious influences, and when
only eleven years old, gave his heart to God.

From the very beginning he had a high ambition. Having
himself experienced the blessing of God's free grace, he was not
satisfied to enjoy it alone, but wanted society generally to reap
these saving benefits, and in all things secure the glory of Him,
whose mercy and power he had so gloriously realized. Is it not
always so? Cana soul be brought from darkness to light, and
from the power of sin and Satan unto God, and not have strong
desires for all to enjoy the same knowledge and salvation?

One of the surest evidences of the genuineness of the work of
God in our own souls, isa burning desire to communicate the
same blessings unto others.

Brother Carmichael’s heart glowed with Divine love, and that
love found its legitimate out-growth in earnest efforts to do good. :
Tn all these efforts he was so eminently successful, that he ex-
erted a commanding influence in the Barryville charge, of which
he was an honored member.

As years, knowledge, and experience increased, his exem-
plary deportment, conciliating manners, industrious habits, liberal
spirit, his earnest prayers and exhortations, rendered him greatly
serviceable to the cause of Christ wherever he was known.

Regarded by all as a young man of marked piety and promise,
he was early appointed class leader, and soon after regularly
licensed to exhort.
ICHABOD B. CARMICHAEL. 311

Blest himself, and benefiting others in these labors, the im-
pression became general that it was his duty to preach the gos-
pel. In this impression his own heart shared largely. But, as
he considered the subject, the work in all its far-reaching influ-
ences and proportions rose up before him, and yielding to timid-
ity and fear, declined assuming its responsibilities.

The gospel ministry is indeed a great work, and its responsi-
bilities vast, but he who is called to its performance, and declines
compliance, assumes responsibilities even greater, than he who
with all its magnitude accepts it, trusting in the help of God.

In 1847 he was married to Miss Rebecca G. Vansickle, with
whom he enjoyed connubial happiness for five years, when she
died, in hope of eternal life. Her last words to her husband,
were, ‘“‘I am going home, now do your duty, go and preach
Jesus Christ, and him crucified.’”” These words, together with
his previous convictions, and the urgent solicitations of his
brethren, settled his purposes for the future, and although he
had two interesting little boys left to his care and council, he
immediately arranged his business, and gave himself up to a
more thorough preparation for the gospel ministry.

In 1853 he was employed by the Presiding Elder on Harmony
Circuit, Newton District. At the session of the Conference
held at New Brunswick, in 1854, he was received on trial, and
returned to Harmony. In 1855 he was appointed to Sparta
Circuit. While on this charge, he was married to Miss Sarah
P. Vansickle, younger sister of his former wife. In 1856 he was
ordained deacon, and returned to Sparta. At the Conference
held at Trenton, in 1857, he was assigned by Bishop Scott to
Vernon Circuit, which proved to be his last appointment. Here,
his life and labors closed.

He was not well while at Sparta. Chills and fever prostrated
him. But his last illness was caused by over exertion in the
pulpit, after which he took cold. Disease followed disease in
quick succession for three months, when it became evident to all
that he must die.

But he was not afraid. ‘‘Tell my brethren in the ministry,”’
said he, ‘‘I trust in the atonement; my sky is clear; I shall
meet them in heaven.’’ When his deeply afflicted companion
312 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

said to him, ‘‘T can go with you no further, you must pass
through the dark valley alone ;’’ he looked up with a triumph-
ant smile, and said, ‘‘Oh no, not alone, Jesus is going with me
through the valley and shadow of death, his arm supports me.’’
After a while he said softly, but emphatically, ‘‘ Jesus is with

me. These were his last words, and soon after, on the
eleventh day of January, 1858, aged thirty-five years,

“The weary wheels of life stood still,”

and the worn servant of Jesus was no more on earth.

Brother Carmichael was an earnest minister, too earnest possi-
bly, for his feeble strength. But the love of Christ constrained
him, and he felt, even though he died in the effort, he must
publish the glad tidings of salvation to all, and urge them to
come to that Jesus who had done so much for him.

These earnest efforts were, from time to time, signally owned
of God, and many were brought from the darkness of nature,
into the light of truth. He held an extra meeting of great in-
terest which continued a long time, and closed just one week be-
fore he was taken sick. On the last night of the meeting, he
told the people he felt impressed, ‘‘That one of their number
was soon to be taken from time to eternity,’’ then added, though
he was then in usual health, ‘‘ possibly it will be your speaker.”’
Such proved to be the case, and the words he was then uttering,
were his last to that people.

His wife says, ‘‘ I never saw him so anxious for the salvation
of souls, as at that time.’’ ‘‘ Sometimes,’’ she continues, ‘‘I
would plead with him not to labor so hard, but his uniform re-
ply was, ‘I have a great work to do, and but a short time to do
it.’ He never murmured during his sickness, but when asked if
he would love to get well, would always answer, ‘ Yes, to preach
Jesus.’ 7

He had a conscientious regard for the Sabbath. A few weeks
before his last illness, he arose very early on Sabbath morning,
that he might have more time for reflection and prayer. Just
at day-break, in going to the door, he saw a person in high offi-
cial position, hauling in a load of hay. During the day, he went
to the Sabbath-school, told the children what he had seen, and
ICHABOD B. CARMICHAEL. 313

pointed out the sin of Sabbath-breaking, without mentioning the
name of the person involved.

The children told what they had heard at school. This coming
to the offender’s ears, who, knowing he was the guilty man, had
his anger aroused, but in future desisted from Sabbath violations.

His experience was of a high order, and yet the continual cry
of his spirit was,

“ The seed of sin’s disease,
Spirit of health, remove,
Spirit of finished holiness,

Spirit of perfect love,”

until the New Year’s eve before he died, when he experienced
that perfect love which casts out fear, and rejoiced in all the full-
ness of the blessing of the gospel of Christ. In this blood-
washed and purified condition he remained, until he exchanged
earth for glory, and was eternally saved.

“Saved by the merit of his Lord,
Glory and praise to Christ he gives;
Yet still his merciful reward,
According to his works receives ;
And with the seed he sow’d below,
His blisss eternally shall grow.”
314 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

REV. JOHN KNOX SHAW.

THE annals of New Jersey Methodism present few, if any,
nobler names than that of the self-sacrificing man at the head of
this memorial. All over the State it is known as symbolizing
one of the most devoted of all the men who have graced and
strengthened the advancing Church, while in those parts where
he more immediately labored, it is still regarded as a household
word.

John Knox Shaw was born of respectable protestant parent-
age, in Ireland, April 10, 1800. This was in the days when the
Church of Rome exercised her domination over that beautiful
but hapless country with a fierceness of intolerant cruelty which
expatriated many of the most valuable citizens, and compelled
them to seek a home upon the distant shores of other and freer
lands. Impelled by persecution, his parents decided to re-
linquish the attachments of a life-time—the comfortable
. property which they enjoyed and the country they loved
—in order to obtain repose for themselves and secure for their
growing family, among whom John was then an infant, immu-
nity from the pernicious example and teachings of that ignorant
and fallen Church. Their property was sold for a trifle, their
household goods gathered, and with their children they embarked
for the United States, and settled in Washington, Cambridge
County, New York.

Here the earlier years of his life were spent. Blessed
with the best of parental influences, trained in the knowledge
of religious principles, and encouraged in a fondness for books
which early developed itself in his character, he soon manifested
a strength of moral purpose which not only held him aloof from
the vices common to youth, but also induced a spirit of reliant
independence, which, added to a disposition naturally adventu-
JOHN KNOX SHAW. 815

rous, impelled him at the early age of sixteen to leave his loved
parental home, determined, as he said, ‘‘To seek his fortune.”’
Youthful as he was he obtained the position of a school-teacher.
Tt must have been a strange sight—that slender stripling, with
very many of his scholars rude, uncultivated, impatient of re-
straint, and older by years than himself, yet, submitting quietly
to the rigid government he maintained, a sight which must have
compelled the belief even then, that the boy teacher would de-
velope into no ordinary man. He maintained his government
by wingled firmness and gentleness, by a thorough comprehen-
sion himself of what he attempted to teach them, and by an
identification of his ardent and sympathetic nature with their well-
being and advancement. The roughest and the rudest scholars,
who obeyed no one else, would obey him, because they both felt
his competency to instruct them, and his deep interest in their
welfare. After more than twenty-five years had passed away,
the writer heard the people of a neighborhood in which he had
exercised his profession speaking of his superiority, and asserting
that no teacher who succeeded him had ever filled his place.
After an absence of three years he returned to visit his home,
and while there was attacked with bilious remitting fever, the
same disease which finally terminated his life. He sank so
rapidly beneath its power that his physicians gave him over as
past all aid, and announced to the family that nothing could
save him, and he must die. His pious mother, however, could
not so give up her son. In deep anguish she exclaimed ‘‘I can-
not give up my poor boy, for he is not prepared to die.”’ Speak-
ing of this in his journal he says, ‘‘ My mother bowed before
her God in prayer. It was the wrestling, effectual prayer of
faith. God heard that mother’s prayer and prolonged the life
of her boy. I was awakened to a sense of my danger. I saw
myself to be poor and miserable, helpless and wretched. The
future to me was most appalling. No ray of light from Beth-
lehem’s Star shone upon my pathway. All was gloom, all was
misery. Cheerfully would I have given the world had it been
in my possession for one single hour: so invaluable is time and
so trivial is earth when eternity appears in view to an unpre-
pared soul. In that state of mind I resolved to make an
316 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

effort, and if I perished, to perish in the act of seeking for re-
deeming mercy. Sincerely, earnestly, and importunately did I
ery, ‘‘God be merciful tomeasinner.’’ After many days of deep
distress deliverance came. I was enabled to rest my burdened
soul on Jesus, who kindly spoke to me, saying, ‘‘Said T not unto
thee that if thou wouldst believe thou shouldst see the glory of
God.” I had not left my sick-room, but so transforming and
renovating was the blessing which I then received, that both
mind and body participated in the restoring influence. I imme-
diately arose to my feet, clapped my hands in an ecstacy of joy,
and with a loud voice praised the God of my salvation, for, from
a realizing sense could I say, ‘‘ O Lord, I will praise thee, though
thou wast angry with me, thine anger is turned away, and thou
comfortest me.’’ So delighted was I with what I had obtained
that I sent for my friends and neighbors, testifying to them that
all my sins were forgiven, that I had been brought from the
power of darkness and translated into the kingdom of God’s dear
Son. Some heard me, and like Nicodemus were ready to say,
“How can these things be?’’ Others concluded that my mind,
through severe and dangerous illness had become deranged, and
that when the physical strength should be regained, these things
would pass away. But, though many years have passed since
the day of my spiritual birth, yet I have abundant reason to be
unfeignedly thankful to God, that the blessing then received
still remains, and I fondly anticipate that to the end of my
earthly pilgrimage I may be enabled to testify from personal ex-
perience that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners,
and to be ready always to give, in answer to every man that
asketh me, a reason of the hope that is in me, with meekness
and fear, and then throughout the annals of a blissful eternity,
may it be my happy privilege to unite with the ransomed, and
joyfully sing, ‘‘ Unto him that hath loved us and washed us from
our sins in his own blood, and hast made us kings and priests
unto God and the Lamb, to him be glory and dominion forever
and ever. Amen.’’

Almost immediately following his conversion, he became im-
pressed with the conviction that it was his duty to call sinners
to repentance, and spent large portions of time in studying the
JOHN KNOX SHAW. 317

Scriptures in order to learn the will of God concerning him. He
‘does not appear to have had at this time any clearly defined
views about preaching, or any settled theological belief. His
parents were Presbyterians, but while his heart inclined toward
the religion of his ancestry, he found himself utterly unable to
accept the Calvinistic doctrines upon which their church was
based. He knew nothing about the Methodists, and so for a
time remained unattached to any branch of the Church of Christ,
simply endeavoring to improve himself in a knowledge of the
Scriptures, and to deepen his experience of God, while at the
same time he earnestly warned sinners to flee from the wrath to
come. Soon, however, a situation was obtained in a community
in which the Methodists were largely represented, and he began
to attend their preaching. The doctrines were such as co-
incided with his plain, strong intellect, the experience they
preached corresponded exactly with his own, while their earnest
manner found an echo in the ardent feelings which burned within
his own bosom, and he soon, without a doubt upon his mind,
attached himself to their communion. He writes, ‘‘ On the day
in which I joined the Methodist Church, the leader of the class
examined me as to my Christian experience, and after hearing
my testimony, he placed his hand upon my head, and said in a
most affectionate and paternal manner, ‘My son, I have some-
what to tell thee. Be thou faithful unto death, and thy Lord will
give thee a crown of life.’ Often in after years did I think of
the advice thus given in my first introduction among the Meth-
odists, and often have I resolved to live conformably to it, fully
believing that, if true to my Master and faithful to his cause, I
should, through grace, ultimately shine in the glories of ‘the
heavenly world. My first leader (has, doubtless, long since fin-
ished his course, for he was then a venerable man, and will be
pleased to meet him whom he thus advised, on the farther bliss-
ful shores of immortality, to receive from the Judge the diadem
of life.’*

During the leisure hours allowed by his profession, he gave
special attention to the study of the saered Scriptures. In order
to facilitate his meditations upon them, he committed the whole
New Testament, and a considerable portion of the Old, to mem-
318 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

ory. Besides this, he read and wrote largely upon religious sub-
jects, bringing the whole power of his young and vigorous mind
to bear upon this one class of facts. He noted daily all the oc-
currences which transpired in reference to his soul, whether of
inward experience or outward providence. Every moment of
time and every fact of life was pressed into the spiritual educa-
tion through which his soul was passing, and which God was
using as a preparation for the higher work that he intended soon
to place in his hands. The value of these exercises to his after
ministry cannot be over-estimated. The abundant fund of Serip-
ture language which gave so solid a strength to his preaching,
the thorough expositions of the mind of the Spirit accompanying
the quotations which satisfied the hearts of so many believers,
and the clearness of an experience which drove away difficulties
from the minds of others, were all, probably, referable to the
entire devotion of his powers in this morning of his spiritual
life, in the manner which has just been indicated.

The attention of the Church soon became attracted to the sin-
gleness of purpose with which he endeavored to make religion
the one business of his life, and they increased his usefulness by
conferring upon him authority to exhort. A deeper sense of
responsibility rested upon him now, and the privilege was used
diligently and usefully. His gifts rapidly improved, his earn-
est manner deepened, his knowledge expanded, and in the spring
of 1825 the Church again recognized his usefulness by licensing
him to preach the gospel, and at the same time evinced their
confidence by recommending him to the Philadelphia Annual
Conference as a suitable person to travel in the bounds of their
connection. That body received him by a unanimous vote, and
appointed as his first field of labor Hamburg Circuit, where on
Sabbath morning, May 8th, 1825, he began his itinerant career,
with the now venerable father, George Banghart, for his senior.
Now he passed through that experience which in more or less
of power comes to all whom God sends out into the vineyard.
Satan tempted him fearfully with his unfitness, with his want
of experience, and with the sore discomforts of the work. His
circuit was three hundred miles around; there were thirty ap-
pointments; there was but one church, and that unfinished, and
JOHN KNOX SHAW. 319

the rest of the preaching was performed in school-houses, court-
houses, the mean log houses. or the openair, as Providence might
afford. The rides were long, the fare coarse, the remuneration
slender, and the labors abundant. But the spirit which had thrust
him forth into the ministry, sustained him in all conflicts; and
of it in his journal he writes:

‘*Tt was fraught with much profit though I passed through
many trials and discouragements. The word sown in weakness
was raised in power. I felt that my labors, though severe, were
not in vain, and that my strength had not been spent for
naught.”’

The Conference of 1826 gave him their mark of highest ap-
preciation by returning him to the Circuit for another year. This
was extremely unusual in those days, and nothing but a full con-
viction that young Shaw had acquired more than ordinary in-
fluence in that circuit, and also that he possessed preaching
ability of more than average culture for his years, would have
induced them to do this for so younga minister. This time
Rey. Benjamin Collins was his colleague, a name famous in
Methodistic history, and in whom Brother Shaw found a father
as well as a preacher in charge, and whose memory he ever
cherished with profound regard. Modern facilities for study
were then unknown to the young itinerant, books were scarce
and difficult to carry, and by. daily preaching and traveling the
time was fully occupied, and unless the junior preacher found a
friend both capable and kind in his superior, any material pro-
gress in study was impossible. But such a friend was found
in Benjamin Collins.

Possessing a massive intellect whose power had been refined
by acquaintance with the best of the poets, and a strong nervous
and physical system, his nature was just of the kind needed by
Brother Shaw for companionship and improvement, while the
kindly interest taken in his advancement in the power of useful-
ness and cultivation of mind, gave him all the advantages which
the circumstances could possibly allow.

The preaching of Collins was often with extraordinary power.
A Divine afflatus seemed to overflow him, and his full sonorous
voice, sweet as strong, would pour forth sentences burning with
320 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

spiritual fire and elevated as the sublimest conceptions of the
poets of our Israel. Sucha man could not fail deeply to impress
and benefit the young preacher, and ever after he was spoken of
by him in terms of the strongest appreciation and affection, and
his untimely end, which occurred soon after, deeply in-
tensified these feelings. Of him he writes, ‘‘A friendship
was formed which was not transient, but destined to con-
tinue through life and then to be perpetuated through
a blissful eternity.’’ In the early part of this year, he
was invited to preach in the town of Milford, Pa. There was
no Christian church in the place, and but little Christian influ-
ence. He preached in the Court House, and succeeded in win-
ning the approbation of the people. He was well calculated for
work of this kind, from his almost intuitive knowledge of those
avenues of human nature most accessible to the gospel, from his
strong vein of common-sense thought, from his almost perfect
knowledge of the Scriptures, and the ease with which he made
their application, from his power of adapting himself to all
classes of men, using their own familiar modes of illustration,
and most of all from the deep well of sympathy within him,
which was forever overflowing the language of his preaching.
The people crowded round and urged him to come again, which
he consented to do, and added it to the already abundant list of
his appointments. During the year he had the pleasure of re-
ceiving here over fifty converts, of organizing a church, and of
commencing a house of worship, which was completed during
the following year. Among the converts were many prominent
persons, including two members of the bar and others who gave
promise of much usefulness. ‘‘Thusthe word of the Lord grew
and multiplied.”

During this year he planted Methodism also a few miles below
Milford. He had no Sabbath to give them, as every one was
employed to its fullest extent, but so anxious were they to hear
the gospel from him that they dismissed the school upon a week
day, in order that he might preach to them, and upon these
terms it was taken in and made a part of the circuit. Here too
he was successful, and it is now an appointmentin the Conference.

In these first two years of itinerant life, he preached over
JOHN KNOX SHAW. 821

five hundred sermons, besides delivering numerous exhortations
and leading alarge number of prayer-meetings. When to this is
added the facts, that he almost invariably led class after preach-
ing, that he raised funds for the erection of churches, five being
built, two of which were dedicated during his term of service,
that he supervised their construction, that he visited from house
to house, warning the people to flee the wrath to come, and that
all this time he was regularly pursuing theological studies—when
all this is considered, we may have some idea of the Herculean
labors with which this devoted man of God commenced what
was in truth to him the work of the ministry.

At the close of his labors here, amid the profound regrets of
the people, he was removed to Asbury Circuit, where he also
remained two years. This circuit then embraced considerable
parts of Warren, Hunterdon, and Morris counties. There were
twenty appointments, only six of which were in churches, and
the rest were filled in school and private houses. But the peo-
ple heard the word of the Lord gladly, and gave him sufficient
work ‘‘to keep him well employed.’’ Indeed, the rule which al-
ways governed his conduct was, ‘‘ Be diligent, never be unew-
ployed, never be triflingly employed, never trifle away time.’’ In
his colleague, Rev. John Finley, he found, as with Benjamin
Collins, an able counselor and faithful friend. ‘'here were
many revivals during these two years on different parts of the
charge, the largest of which was at Flanders, where God’s Spirit
was poured out in a wonderful manner, and the whole com-
munity shaken by its power. Among the converts were two
young men who afterwards entered the ministry, and became
useful laborers in the vineyard of the Lord. He writes in his
journal at this time, ‘‘I have set out to be more faithful, and
am resolved, whatever may oppose, to discharge my duty.
When I take into consideration my calling, I think of a remark
made by a Jewish Rabbi in reference to the sacerdotal office.
The work is great, and the reward is great. The day is short,
and the Master of the house is urgent. When I retrospect the
past, I see that much of my time has been poorly spent; and
shall I be prodigal of the present? The Lord forbid. Oh that
in me there might manifestly appear the work of faith, the labor

21
822 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

of love, and the patience of hope. From my heart, I can say,
I desire to be useful in the kingdom of my Lord and Saviour
Jesus Christ; and my prayer is, O Lord, enable thy poor dust
to proclaim the glad tidings of salvation to my perishing fellow-
creatures with success. Open their dark understandings, warm
their cold affections ; make me strong in faith, unabated in zeal,
patient in tribulation, and indefatigable in labors to promote the
prosperity of Zion, and extend the peaceful kingdom of the
Prince of Peace.’’ Such was the lowly estimate placed by him-
self upon his usefulness and devotion while performing an
amount of labor which to us at this day seems almost an impos-
sibility.

It was while traveling this circuit that he formed the acquaint-
ance and enjoyed the friendship of Rev. William Loder, a local
preacher of deep piety, extensive learning, and wide experience.
who had introduced Methodism in the neighborhood, had formed
and led the classes, and preached regularly and successfully the
word of the Lord in the godless regions round about; and the
two men, though widely apart in years, soon discovered a unity
of spirit in each other which cemented them together in the
bonds of a Christian friendship, and his house became a favorite
home for the young gospel preacher. Among the members of
his family was an only daughter, whose modest worth soon made
an ineffaceable impression upon his heart. Her deep and unaf-
fected piety, her grace of mind and person, her gentle womanly
ways, combined to deepen that impression until they won from
him the offer of all he had to give,—his hand and heart,—pledg-
ing with them the tenderest care and fondest affection which it
was possible for his ardent nature to bestow, a pledge which his
life amply redeemed. No burden that he could bear was per-
mitted to fall on her, no calamity which he could suffer visited
her, and no happiness which he could procure was wanting to
her. He never hesitated to acknowledge the depth of his affec-
tion, but in a befitting and manly way openly avowed the inten-
sity of his appreciation of the qualities of mind and heart which
at first had drawn him to her side, and which in his estimation
made her value ‘far above rubies.’ He found in her a compan-
ion suited alike to his nature and his work. Her disposition was
JOHN KNOX SHAW. 323

as generous as his own, though controlled more largely by
prudence, a quality needed in the government of his house-
hold, for he was generous to a fault. Her heart was as
deeply interested in the salvation of sinners as his own, and
her mind delighted in the cultivation of all that was pure and
good and beautiful in life. He esteemed her counsels of inesti-
mable value to him in the prosecution of his work, and the home
that her presence filled with sunshine to him was the sweetest
spot in life. She bore cheerfully with him all the sacrifices and
hardships that the itinerant life compelled, and, relieving him
largely from the care of a numerous family, left him free to pur-
sue with an almost entire consecration of his time the work to
which he had given his life. Her praise is in all the churches
which they served, and many whom her gentle persuasions led
to God rise up and call her blessed. She is still living, residing
in the city of Newark, waiting for the summons which shall per-
mit her to rejoin her husband at their home in the city of God,
where he has passed before her. \

His next appointment was Paterson, one of the four stations
which then existed in New Jersey. There he passed through
many difficulties, but still met with a considerable degree of suc-
cess. His journal written at the close of that year says,

‘‘Though the beginning was not auspicious yet, upon the
whole, the year has been in some degree successful. About fifty
have been added to the church, whom I hope to meet in that
better country where there are no misrepresentations, no tribula-
tions, but where peace, love and harmony shall forever prevail.”’

The year succeeding this he labored upon Essex Circuit, with
his be.oved friend, Benjamin Collins, again for a colleague.

During this year they added Plainfield to the circuit, of which
he says, ‘‘ Here I preached in a wheelwright shop the unsearch-
able riches of Christ to all who were disposed to hear. At first
the number was small, but as our efforts were continued it in-
creased, and in a short time a class was formed. From such
humble beginnings arose what is now an important appointment
in the Newark Conference. About the middle of this year his
beloved colleague was removed for the purpose of establishing a
mission in Somerville, the county town of Somerset County,
3824 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

leaving the charge of the extensive circuit entirely in the hands
of his junior, a work, however, which he performed faithfully and
usefully till the close of the year.

His next charge was Staten Island, one which always lived in
his memory as among the pleasantest of his long and useful
itinerancy. Healthily located, an affectionate and appreciative
people, and abundant success in the work of the Lord, all con-
tributed to leave this spot among the greenest and most beauti-
ful of the recollections of his ministry. He writes, ‘‘ During
my labors on the island the Lord was pleased to make the preach-
ing of the gospel his power unto salvation to many souls.”
More than a hundred were added to the church, the whole mem-
bership were greatly quickened and blessed with a deeper and
fuller power of religion, and he collected the funds with which
to build a parsonage. His place in their affections was of a far
more than ordinary depth; and so firmly were they entwined
around him, that his numerous friends, both in and out of the
church, offered to purchase him a house and surround it with a
number of acres of land if he would consent to locate and remain
among them. But, he says, ‘‘I had consecrated myself to the
work of the ministry, and believing that I must preach the gospel
in other places also, for therefore was I sent, I declined the
generous and affectionate offer.’’ His own heart was deeply
affected at leaving this people, but his unswerving devotion to
the itinerancy left him no choice, and willingly, though sadly, he
repaired to New Providence, his next field of labor, where he
toiled with the same untiring energy in the service of his Master.
Of this year his journal says, ‘‘I had the pleasure of seeing my
vongregations increase, and of adding some to the church of
God.’ His next appointment was Long Branch, where for two
years he fully proclaimed the gospel of Christ and surrounded
himself with friends whose affections followed all his life. He
says, ‘‘I spent two very agreeable years in this appointment,
during which I tried to perform the various duties obligatory
upon me, and had the pleasure of seeing the cause of my Master
to some degree prosper. I also made some progress in my
studies, paying particular attention to Greek, which I find of
great benefit to me.’’ He next went to Pennington, which was
JOHN KNOX SHAW. 325

then called a station, although there were three appointments to
which his enterprising spirit soon added a fourth. His parish
was fifteen miles in one direction, and five in another, which, as
he says, ‘‘ kept him constantly employed.’”’ A part of the timehe
was engaged in two extra meetings at once with four miles of
distance between them, (dividing his labor as the most pressing
necessities seemed to demand, ) and in each of which there wasa
a good measure of success. Atallthe appointments on the charge,
the work of the Lord was revived, and while a number of the
converts connected themselves with the Presbyterians, where
they had always attended, yet the Methodist church re-
ceived an addition of over one hundr d and fifty as the result of
his labors here. It was during hi: pastorate there that the
Pennington Seminary was projected. Into this movement he
entered with all the ardor of his nature. The educational neces-
sities of the church had long been a subject of deep considera-
tion with him, and to this project, which promised to contribute
so largely to their successful solution, he gave all the labor and
interest which was within his power. Interesting prominent
men of the connection in its favor, soliciting subscriptions from
those who had means, and supervising largely the details of both
its plans and their execution, it is not too much to say that to his
labors the seminary is largely indebted for the useful position
it has occupied in the developement of New Jersey Methodism.
From this he was removed to Swedesboro, where there were
two more years of abundant labor. A school-house was the only
place in the town where the society were permitted to meet, and
this they might not occupy on the Sabbath, lest it should inter-
fere with the attendance at ‘‘Thechurch.’’ Under his effec-
tive administration a noble Methodist man, named Wolfe, pur-
chased a lot in a central location, and donated it to the society,
and Brother Shaw succeeded in collecting sufficient funds to
erect a house of worship, which was both built and dedicated
during his ministry. Two other churches on the circuit were
repaired, two parsonages were bought, and many added to the
societies, so that he was enabled to say, ‘‘His labor was not in
vain in the Lord.”’

While here he was called to suffer the loss of one of his dear
326 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

children, which deeply affected him, but did not stop the current
of hislabor. Witha heartsad and burdened he toiled on indulging
his grief only in the privacy of his sympathizing family and re-
mitting no labor because of his saddened spirit. So deep was this
feeling that twenty years ago when in company with the writer
he visited the grave in the beautiful cemetery of that ancient
town, his feelings overcame him, and he could scarcely resist the
impulse to have the dust that remained disinterred, and laid in
the resting-place where he expected to repose himself when his
earthly career should be terminated.

From there he was appointed to Camden Station. There was
then but one church of tlie denomination in the town, and the
work was laborious and incéssant. But his spirit pressed him
beyond the regular duties demanded at his hands, and he insti-
tuted preaching at five o’clock on Sabbath mornings in addition
to the regular duties of the day. Besides this, he preached in
the public gardens to the pleasure-loving Sabbath-breakers, and
in every possible way endeavored to promote the work of calling
the attention of men to the demands of the gospel upon them.
His labors were blessed with a good degree of success, and he left ’
the charge feeling that his appointment there had not been
without the Master’s approval.

He was now sent to Mount Holly, in which place he witnessed
the largest revival which ever occurred in the place. The power
of God seemed to attend every service of his ministry, and the
whole town was moved. Several of its most prominent men and
women were converted—the altar was crowded with mourners—
people were kneeling, weeping, and praying, in all parts of the
church at once, and over three hundred were added to the society,
of whom a number still remain to call him blessed.

The appointment following this was Burlington, where he
labored in 1844. At this session the Conference avowed its
sense of his ability by electing him a delegate to the General
Conference. His duties were discharged in a manner satisfac-
tory to those who sent him, and opened the way for higher in-
fluence and usefulness in the future. He labored one year in
Burlington with great acceptability, when he was removed from
there and made Presiding Elder of Camden District, which office
JOHN KNOX SHAW. 327

he filled to the general satisfaction of both preachers and people
for four years. Of these years he writes, ‘‘I traveled in my
carriage ten thousand miles, preached one thousand sermons,
was present at many quarterly meetings and love-feasts, gave an
oversight to the building of and dedication of churches, &c.,”’
spending his whole time in work as one who expected the Master
‘when he came to find him toiling in the vineyard. In 1848 the
Conference again honored him with an election to the General
Conference, and the bishops continued him in the eldership,
appointing him to Trenton District, where he committed himself
to his labors with the same untiring devotion. He says, ‘‘ During
my term of service there I traveled between eight and ten
thousand miles in my carriage, preached about five sermons a
week, and attended to the various duties which the office imposed
upon me. I had the pleasure of seeing the work of the Lord
prosper to a greater or less degree in all parts of my field of
labor, and a goodly number were added to the church of God.
The Lord was very merciful to me in giving me health to per-
form all my journeys and fill all my appointments. Upon a
review of the past I may gratefully exclaim, ‘What shall I
render unto the Lord for all his benefits toward me? I will take
the cup of salvation, and call upon the name of the Lord.’ ”’

In 1853 he was stationed in Franklin Street, Newark. In
this appointment far more than ordinary effort was needed to
keep up the status of the society. A hundred and fifty mem-
bers had left that spring for the purpose of organizing the new
and splendid Broad Street Church, and many of these were
among theirmost prominent men. But undismayed by the dis-
couraging aspect of affairs, he vigorously commenced his labors,
devoting a large proportion of his time to visiting the sick and
among the members, working in the classes and managing
all the church interests. There was a long standing debt on the
church of $2000, which he succeeded in liquidating, and at the
close of his term of service it was found that two hundred had
been received into the society.

He next served the church in Morristown. Here also was a
church debt of $1400, which he removed, thus greatly relieving
the society. A revival accompanied his labors, from whose
328 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

fruits the church received one hundred and fifty members, and’
the interests of the church generally prospered in his hands.
He writes of Morristown, ‘‘ Frequently as I saw the altar
crowded with those who desired admittance on probation, 1
thought, will all these prove faithful? will they endure hard-
ness as good soldiers of Jesus, and finally hear the Master say,
‘Come ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared
for you from the foundation of the world ; enter in to the joy of
thy Lord?’”’ At the close of his two years there he again writes,
‘*T found some kind warm friends in Morristown, friends who
evinced their love not in word only but in deed and in truth.
One of them, Hon. G. F. Cobb, gave me a beautiful lot in the
cemetery here, so that when my labors shall have terminated,
my body will find a resting-place in this sequestered and beau-
tiful spot, but only for a season. When Christ shall awake the
slumbering dead, I also shall hear his voice and obey his bidding.
f shall rise in the likeness of my Lord, and live to die no
more.”’

The last appointment filled by him on earth was Warren street,
in the city of Newark. The officiary of that church, impressed
by the success of his labors in Franklin street, and anxious to
secure the spiritual privileges of his ministry, made a unanimous
and earnest request to the appointing power for the services of
Brother Shaw, which request was granted, and accordingly in the
spring of 1857 he entered upon his ministry in that charge.
Here again the necessity for excessive labor was apparent. The
society was small, the church was only completed in the base-
ment story, with the upper part enclosed, and the finances of
the people had been nearly exhausted in their previous gifts
toward the enterprise. But nothing daunted he immediately
inaugurated a series of movements which looked to the speedy
completion of the building. He was encouraged in this by wit-
nessing a very considerable increase in the congregation, a re-
vival of religion, and the fresh zeal with which his own in-
domitable spirit inspired the membership.

In this matter, all the financial care and labor came upon him.
The smallest details were to be adjusted, the most trivial accounts
kept in shape, the contracts to be made and settled, the material to
JOHN KNOX SHAW. 329

be examined, and the money needed for carrying on the work raised,
principally by appeals personally made to the prominent Method-
ists of the city, whose patience and liberality had already been se-
verely taxed by repeated applications forthe same purpose. All
this came upon him in addition to the regular duties of the pastor-
ate, which were faithfully discharged. Day by day in the prosecu-.
tion of his cross-bearing labor, he plodded wearily on foot through
the streets of thecity, endeavoring to fully carry out to a success-
ful issue the labor he had undertaken. It cannot be surprising
to any that these labors were too much for his toil-worn frame.
His friends observed his failing health and urged him to de-
sist, but his feelings were so strongly enlisted that he could not
get the consent of his mind to do so. He toiled on, striving
against the lassitude induced by increasing weakness until the
church was almost ready for dedication, when a bilious remitting
fever supervened upon his already broken powers, and confined
him to his bed, from which alas! he never rose again. The
fever was so violent as to occasion delirium during the most of
his sickness, but occasionally his mind was clear, and he would
speak of possessing the ‘‘ peace that passed all understanding.”’
His friend and Presiding Elder, Rev. J. 8. Porter, D. D., visited
and conversed with him frequently, and the following transcript
of one of the conversations will illustrate perfectly the spirit of
mind with which he met the approach of the last evening.
Said Dr. Porter, ‘‘The eye and the heart of the great Father
are upon you, and in this way he magnifies you, for we are
all called upon to endure when we pass through the furnace of
affliction.’’ Brother Shaw replied, ‘‘ Yes, and it is always our
privilege to know that ‘He doeth all things well.’’’ Dr.
Porter again said, ‘‘ I hope Brother Shaw that it will please the
Lord to counteract the present visitation, so as to bring you up to
renew your labors in the vineyard, in the extension of the cause of
his kingdom among men.”’ ‘‘ Yes,’’ said Brother Shaw, ‘I
hope so, for I would love so much to be spared a while longer
to preach the gospel of my blessed Saviour. Ah! how much
more diligently would TI labor in the vineyard.’’ Dr. Porter
then said to him, ‘‘ You have done what you could, you could do
no more, this is the belief of your fellow-workers, and of all that
330 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

have known the extent of your labors.’”’ At once Brother Shaw
responded, ‘‘I would not rely upon that. I have a better, a
surer foundation. For he that spared not his own Son, but freely
delivered him up for us all, will he not with him freely give me
all things? The unspeakable gift. Through him that loved me,
and gave himself for me, I expect to be saved.”’ ‘‘ Yes,”’ said
Dr. Porter, ‘‘but it is pleasant to know that the ministry, the
church, and all with whom you have been associated, give ex-
pression to the faithfulness of your labors.’’ ‘‘ Oh yes,”’ said he,
“but I think I would do better.”

A few days before he passed away, Dr. I. M. Ward, one of
the attending physicians, a devoted and pious Christian, said to
him, ‘‘Mr. Shaw, do you want to live?’ ‘‘ Yes,’’ he replied,
“Tf it bethe Lord’swill.”’ ‘‘But,’’ said the Dr., ‘‘ifnot his will?”
‘ All is well,’? was the reply, ‘‘all is peace within.’’ On the
morning of his death which took place Oct. 5th, 1858, several of
his brethren in the ministry gathered round his bed and sang
‘‘ Homeward Bound.’’ The sentiment apparently lingered in
his mind, and the last words he utttered, about half an hour
previous to his death, were, ‘‘Most home! Most home!” He
was unable to speak without painful effort, but always responded
audibly his hearty Amen! whenever prayer was made in his room,
until he gave up what remained of mortal life into the care of
the Christ he loved and served. He was buried from the church
which his labors had completed, and which his bereaved flock had
draped in mourning. His beloved friend, Dr. Porter, officiated
at the funeral, taking for his text, ‘‘ He was a good man, full of
the Holy Ghost and faith,’’ words which in themselves were de-
scriptive of the character of the departed.

Afterward amid the tears of his family, his people, and his
brethren in the ministry, they conveyed him to the beautiful
resting-place in the cemetery at Morristown, where two years
before he had written that he wished to lie, and where the worn-
out frame reposes until Christ shall call him from the dead.

Brother Shaw was possessed of a vigorous physical system.
In all the long years of his ministry no sickness had so prostrated
him as to interfere seriously with his work, and this was perhaps
one reason why he was so unwilling to believe that repose was
JOHN KNOX SHAW. 331

necessary to him when he was literally giving his life for the
Church. It sustained him in a class and variety of labors which
would have broken down the most of men, and contributed
largely to the cheerfulness of spirits which made his society a
charm. His mental powers were naturally strong, and had been
cultivated with a view to their increase in that direction. While
he loved and appreciated the beautiful both in literature and
oratory, his own peculiar power lay in strong simplicity and
logic. He knew his power, and increased it in the manner
which could be rendered most available in the great work of his
life. He gave a very considerable attention to his mental culti-
vation, studying the languages, reading and digesting the best
authors, and writing freely upon all subjects which came within
the purview of his labors. He had partially prepared an auto-
biography of his life, reaching six hundred pages, containing
many things of general Methodistic interest, besides being a
faithful transcript of his life, and which, had he lived, would
have been published and found to contain many valuable materi-
als for a history of the Church in our State. The word which
will probably best describe his preaching is ‘‘ powerful.’’ Not
that kind of power which consists chiefly in the arousing of ex-
cited passionate emotion, though that entered to some consider-
able extent into the results of his labors, but that kind of power
which left an impression capable of being developed into an im-
mediate invitation of sinners to seek God, while the Church
would at the same time be built up in its most holy faith. His
sermons were always the result of careful preparation, and thor-
oughly studied, the time for which he found by an habitual sys-
tem of rising at four o’clock in the morning during all the years
of ministerial life. At home or abroad it was all the same, and
unless some insuperable obstacle prevented, no matter what hour
he retired, that hour in the morning found him awake and at-
tending to his duties. He preached with deep feeling, baptizing
his sermons with his tears, and the occasions were rare indeed.
in which the tears of the congregation did not accompany his
own. In the minor details of the work he had few superiors.
In the successful conduct of prayer-meetings, in the leading of
classes, in visiting the sick, in pastoral visiting, in personal ef-
832 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

forts to induce men to seek Christ, and in the instruction of
penitents, he was a workman that needed not to be ashamed.
His sermons always attracted good congregations, and while spe-
cially adapted to the masses, yet in their strong, true logic found
appreciative hearers among the cultivated and refined members
of community. He possessed in a remarkable degree the power
of adaptation. The writer remembers hearing him preach a
sermon to a congregation on the Sabbath, composed largely of
intelligent people, where the strength of thought and lucidity of
argument illustrating the truths of the gospel was the theme of
universal commendation, and on the following day preach a ser-
mon to a congregation of unlettered people in the mountains,
and which was the theme of commendation equally strong.
When he went to the church on this occasion, there were but
ten persons present, and as there was considerable official busi-
ness requiring attention, he at first thought he would not preach,
but on hearing that one lady had walked seven miles to hear a
sermon, and carried her babe all the way, he at once decided dif-
ferently, and for over an hour held the congregation of ten
spell-bound, while he delivered in the simplest yet most eloquent
manner, with illustrations drawn from surrounding circum-
stances, a sermon on ‘‘ One thing is needful.’’

As a preacher in charge his large charity and general insight
into the motives which governed men, made him uniformly suc-
cessful. If he erred anywhere it was in excessive leniency to of-
fenders, which sometimes worked against the best interests of
the Church, yet on the whole we have had but few men who
managed the difficult and delicate duties of a preacher in charge
with greater efficiency than John K. Shaw. His business tal-
ents were superior, and fully consecrated to the Church. The
number of parsonages and churches erected under his ministry,
the debts removed from others, the refitting of many of our
houses of worship, all attest both a capacity to plan and an abil-
ity to execute which fully entitles him to the character which we
have given; and the remark made in the cabinet of Bishop
Waugh in reference to him, that ‘‘ Brother Shaw would be use-
ful anywhere,”’ is borne out by his success in all these various
departments of labor.
JOHN KNOX SHAW. 833

As a Presiding Elder he was generally esteemed. In the
official discharge of his duties as an adviser of the Bishop, it
sometimes became necessary to recommend a brother for an ap-
pointment which appeared oppressive, but his genial sympathy
with the circumstances and his willingness to share the burden
soon disarmed any opposition of feeling which might exist. His
administration of discipline was mild, and not so closely bound
by technical rules, as to prevent the accomplishment of greater
good by sometimes giving larger latitude. :

The welfare of the preachers rested heavily upon his mind, and
many are living still who can bear ample testimony to his persist-
ent exertions to secure them a comfortable support. Some-
times he would beg money from door to door to supply the wants
of such of them as were sick and destitute. If any cases of mis-
conduct occurred among them, while he did all that appeared
requisite for the honor and welfare of the Church, yet he
studied how the blow might fall upon the offender in such a way
as to redeem instead of entirely crushing him, and in the general,
the people regarded him asa friend, and the preachers as an
elder and beloved brother.

Tn the construction of his moral nature, conscientiousness was
probably the most powerful element. His sympathies were wide
and deep. His generosity was profuse, and frequently led him
beyond the bounds of propriety, and, but for the prudence of
his wife, would often have occasioned embarrassment. No one
was turned empty away. The writer has known him to give
away his last dollar to an object of questionable worthiness, but
which appealed warmly to his sympathies, and it was a princi-
ple with him to give something to every applicant whose im-
posture was not clearly proved. As a husband and father he
was devoted, the spiritual or temporal welfare of his family
occupying a large portion both of his thoughts and prayers, and
any possible sacrifice was cheerfully made for their advancement.

In his friendships he was firm and confiding. Those who en-
joyed that friendship feared no betrayal, counting it among
the pleasant blessings of their lives, and feeling assured that it
could be successfully appealed to, whenever the friend in need
was requisite.
334 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

His religion was an experimental realization of a God of love.
The witness of the Spirit was not only a doctrine preached
but an experience realized. His theological views were as broad
as his sympathies. Atonement for all men in the fullest Scrip-
tural sense was the foundation upon which he based his public
efforts. He loved his race with sympathies that spanned all
time, and took in their wide circle the sweep of immortality.

But, he rests from his labors. His work is done, and well
done. His memory is precious to the churches, and precious still
to those he honored with his friendship. His record is on high,
and his works do follow him.
ROBERT LUTTON. 335

REV. ROBERT LUTTON.

“ Like snow that falls where waters glide,

Earth’s pleasures fade away,

They melt in time’s destroying tide
However bright their stay ;

But joys that from religion flow,
Like stars that gild the night,

Amid the darkest gloom of woe,
Smile forth with sweetest light.”

THE life of Rev. Robert Lutton was full of romance and
variety. He was born in Ireland, in the year 1791. His father
was a man of considerable wealth, liberal education, and fine
social position. At an early period Robert became fond of
society and dress, and the position of his family gave him ample
opportunity for indulgence in these propensities.

This fondness soon grew into a passion which broke over all
restraints, and convivial fellowship and sports were the legiti-
mate results.

He not only neglected religion, but the church and her minis-
ters were objects of frequent ridicule and scorn. His parents,
who were deeply pious, mourned over the waywardness of their
son, but their praiseworthy efforts to restrain him, gave offence,
and he left home clandestinely, joined the British service, found
his way to the West Indies, took the yellow fever in its severest
form, and while lying in the hospital, attended by an old colored
woman, with the bullets of the enemy flying around him in all
directions, he resolved, if he ever beached home, which he did
after many adventures, he would receive advice with more at-
tention.

Some time after his return to his friends, he was prevailed on
to attend church. Very soon he became thoughtful, and even
336 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

penitent. He desired to know the way of salvation. In this
state of mind, a work on predestination was put into his hands.
He read it with care. The teachings of the book were, that
God had from all eternity ordained a certain portion of the hu-
man family to eternal life, and the remaining portion to eternal
death; and that these numbers were so fixed and definite that
they could neither be increased or diminished. The influence of
such reasoning upon young Lutton’s mind was unfavorable.
He at once became despondent, and concluded, that in conse-
quence of his great crimes, he was numbered amongst the repro-
bates, and that the longer he lived the greater the accumulation
of his guilt would be, and so, the heavier his punishment to all
eternity.

These thoughts were so overwhelming, that he came to the
terrible conclusion to destroy his own life, and announced this
intention to his friends. Shocked.at such a purpose, his parents
were vigilant in their efforts to prevent it. But the gloom upon
his mind continued to increase, until it could be endured no
longer, and he resolved to rush unbidden into the presence of
his God.

On a bright moonlight night he went down tothe River Bann,
took off his coat, and in the act of plunging into the water, it
was suggested, ‘‘Look into your Bible once more before you
die.’’ He drew from his pocket a little well-worn book, opened
it at random, and the first passage that met his eye, was, ‘‘ But
we see Jesus, who was made a little lower than the angels, for
the suffering of death, crowned with glory and honor; that he,
by the grace of God, should taste death for everyman.”’ Itwasa
voice from heaven, and the rash deed was prevented.

He hastened home, went to his chamber, fell upon his knees,
and prostrate in the lowest depths of humility and penitence,
yet encouraged with gleamings of hope, pleaded with God until
three o’clock in the morning, that for Christ’s sake his multiplied
and aggravated sins might all be pardoned. He did not plead in
vain. , Mercy came, first in drops, then in showers, then in over-
whelming floods. He was inundated with the surging glory,
filled with the unfathomable love of God. This change so won-
derfully glorious, was accompanied with loud and long utterances
ROBERT LUTTON. 337

of praise. The family was awakened by the unusual cry, and
his mother who had been driven almost to frenzy, expecting
every day he would put his terrible threat of suicide into execu-
tion, rushed into the room, supposing she would find her son
weltering in his blood. Falling upon him as he lay upon the
floor, she exclaimed frantically, ‘‘ O he has done the deed at
last.’

Thus interrupted, the happy young man cried out, ‘“‘O
mother! mother, your son is saved, saved through the blood of
the Lamb. God for Christ’s sake has pardoned all my sins; now
T am his child, filled with his Spirit, unspeakably happy in his
love. O mother, happy—so happy.”

The poor mother brought up thus suddenly from the lowest
depths of mental agony, to the highest emotions of blessed re-
lief, exclaimed in an ecstacy of surprise, ‘‘ Now Lord, lettest
thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eves have seen thy
salvation,’’ when her nervous system, too severely taxed, gave
way, and she swooned with unutterable joy.

This conversion, so marked and powerful, had its influence
upon others. His sister Anna, a lady of superior talents and
education, was at that time, a rigid formalist, but seeing the
wonderful change wrought in her brother, felt deeply convinced
that there was a power in experimental piety, to which she was
an utter stranger. She therefore sought, and soon found, the
pearl of great price, and became henceforth a decided, happy,
and useful Christian. For many years she led six classes

every week, and frequently held meetings in private houses,
when she expounded the Scriptures, and set forth as the high
privilege of all believers, ‘‘The fullness of the blessing of the
gospel of Christ.’’ She was an authoress too, and her published
poetry is not only imbued with the spirit of her Divine Master,
but is marked with equal literary taste.

Soon after his conversion, young Lutton found that he had a
proud heart to contend with, and at once set about its mortifica-
tion.

His love of dress was extreme. He felt it must be conquered,
or it would conquer him. What should he do? After a little

“reflection, he concluded to array himself in the most homely at-

22
338 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

tire, then tying a rope of straw around his loins, started down
the road.

He soon met a man on horseback, who supposing him crazy,
asked, what was the matter ?

‘©Q,” said Brother Lutton, in a pitiful tone, ‘‘I am afflicted
with a very loathsome disease, the most terrible to which human
nature is heir.’? The man alarmed, asked excitedly, if it was
contagious. ‘‘Yes,’’ replied the young Christian; ‘‘It is the
most contagious of all diseases in the world ; I believe everybody
takes it.’ The man was about putting spurs to his horse to fly
from the presence of so much contamination, when Brother
Lutton quietly exclaimed, ‘‘Do not be alarmed, I refer to the
inward corruptions of the human heart, and I am taking this
method to mortify my pride.”’

He prayed earnestly for purity, and immediately after the
commencement of his religious pilgrimage, sought with great
earnestness the higher forms of Christian life and experience.

He burned with a Divine zeal, and longed to be useful to his
fellow-men. Everywhere, publicly and privately, he exhorted
to repentance.

He soon secured the confidence of the church, and was licensed
to preach. After this, he did not wait for invitations to labor,
but sought appointments, and then filled them with power.

While thus engaged, he was frequently associated with that
distinguished man of God, Rev. Gideon Ouseley, for whom he
cherished the fondest recollections, and of whom he always
spoke, as the sainted Ouseley.

Pursuing his Master’s work, Brother Lutton found in a part
of the country noted for its wickedness, an organization, styled
the ‘‘Hell Fire Club.’’ It was composed of infidels of the lowest
grade. They held an annual festival, at which they built an altar,
and with horrid oaths and obscene rites, burned upon it the
sacred Scriptures. Lutton heard of it, and fired with holy in-
dignation, resolved, if possible, to put a stop to such blasphe-
mous sport. His friends tried to dissuade him, but asking God
for help, he ventured to go forth. The leader of the club was
an Irish giant about seven feet high, and desperately wicked,
called Big Tom. He swore if the preacher came there he would
ROBERT LUTTON. 339

kill him. Entering the building, the young minister found a
large concourse of people, to whom he preached Jesus and the
resurrection. As he was about passing out of the house after
the discourse, Big Tom stood at the door with a huge club, but
while in the act of striking the minister to the ground, fell pros-
trate himself, paralyzed in every limb.

It was not long before he began to cry most piteously for
mercy. Young Lutton fell upon his knees beside him, and, af-
ter a protracted struggle, the lion became a lamb, and horrid
oaths were turned to songs of praise. It was a great victory,
and henceforth Big Tom became the preacher’s fast friend, and
while he remained in the missionary work in that region, went
with him as a kind of body-guard, and, thus protected, no one
dared molest him. A number of the members of the club, see-
ing so great a change in their leader, sought salvation, and the
‘* Hell Fire Club’ was effectually destroyed.

Soon after this, the circumstances of the family changed. His
father, by injudicious endorsements, lost his fortune, and was en-
tirely dependent upon a small annuity settled upon him for life
by those whom he had befriended.

This was quite insufficient to meet all demands, and Robert
felt the importance and necessity of doing for himself. His
mind was strongly turned towards America. But he had no
means of going, and no friends when he should arrive there.
The former, however, was unexpectedly supplied by a generous
relative, and, thus assisted, he resolved to leave the latter in the
hands of God.

Filled with an inexpressible sorrow, he bid farewell to friends
and dear old Ireland on the 4th day of May, 1823, and embarked
on board the good ship Woodbine, bound for Philadelphia.
Coming on deck after a poor night’s rest, just as they were leay-
ing his native shore, he says, ‘‘I was wonderfully struck with
the prospect presented to my view. The ship was in full sail,
the weather fine, favorable breezes filled our canvass, and we
moved along with a majesty indescribable, while the sun in his
glory, vying with every other part of creation, added lustre and
beauty to the scene. A number of ships were in view, which,
together with the landscapes everywhere greeting the wondering
340 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

eye, presented a lovely picture. The white chalk cliffs of
County Antrim on the one side, and the romantic mountains and
valleys of County Down on the other; the fields clothed with
verdure, the flocks feeding and sporting on the plains, altogether
formed a prospect which caused my astonished heart to exclaim,
“*O Lord, how manifold are thy works, in wisdom hast thou
made them all; the earth is full of thy glory, so is the great and
wide sea.”’

On ship-board he labored successfully for the spiritual welfare
of the passengers and crew until prostrated with sea-sickness,
when he gave up with great reluctance.

During the passage, which lasted about six weeks, they were
visited with a terrific gale, which carried away the vessel’s rig-
ging, and threatened to engulf them all.

As they approached Philadelphia on the 16th of June, and
saw vast multitudes standing upon the wharf, awaiting their ar-
rival, he says, ‘‘ A strange mixture of sensations exercised my
mind. In this crowd were persons with eager expectation in-
quiring for their friends. Some were looking for a wife, some
for husbands, some for a father, and others for a mother, &c.
But there was no friend to take me by the hand. I wasa stranger
in a strange land, with but little money, and little knowledge
of the world, afraid to trust any one, and knew not where to go.
I lifted my heart to heaven for direction, and was soon encour-
aged to hope in the Lord.’’ He went to a respectable hotel,
staid all night, and found the people kind.

On the third day after his arrival, he sought out a Mr. Kelly,
an influential and wealthy member of the M. E. Church, for
whom he bore a letter from a brother in Ireland.

Mr. Kelly and family received him most cordially, and bid
him make their house his home until he should get settled.
This unexpected kindness filled the young stranger’s heart with
gratitude, and he praised the Lord with unfeigned lips.

Mr. Lutton had brought with him from men of the highest
position in the church numerous testimonials of his deep piety,
unabated attachment to the cause of Methodism, and his great
usefulness as a local preacher. In a few days he presented these
to Rev. William Thatcher, then Pastor of Old St. George’s, in
; ROBERT LUTTON. 341

Philadelphia, and was at once received into the communion of
that church.

His zeal and talents becoming known, his services were soon re-
quired to fill a vacancy on the Burlington Circuit, in New Jer-
sey. In the following November, the district conference for
West Jersey was held at New Mills, now Pemberton. To this
conference he applied for a recommendation to the Philadelphia
Annual Conference as a suitable person to become a traveling
preacher. As the applications were numerous, and some little
prejudice existed against him, on account of being a stranger and
foreigner, his request. was at first denied. He felt afflicted, but,
as he had often done before, committed his case to his covenant-
keeping God. After the transaction of some additional business,
the brethren thought perhaps they had acted hastily in reference
to the application, and finally, in order to be more fully satisfied,
invited him to preach before them that night. He modestly
consented. (God baptized him in a wonderful manner, all hearts
were melted, the opposition gave way, and the next morning
Brother Lutton was unanimously recommended.

In the spring of 1824 he was received hy the Philadelphia
Annual Conference, and appointed to Elizabethtown, N. J., then
to Salem, N. J., and afterwards to St. George’s, and Bristol, Pa.
About the time of the last appointment he was married.
Mr. Kelley, who had so kindly received him into his family on
his arrival in this country, having reached an advanced age, died,
leaving a young widow, and several children. Mr. Lutton’s
intimacy with the family continued, and at a proper time, after
Mr. Kelley’s death, had so ripened into a mutual attachment,
that he and Mrs. Anna Margaret Kelly were united in holy wed-
lock. She was a lady of amiable qualities, high social posi-
tion, of considerable wealth, and asthe attachment was mutually
strong, few unions in a fallen world proved more congenial.
With this marriage, the whole current of his life was changed.
He soon ceased from the regular work of the ministry, and set-
tled with his family in a princely mansion in Burlington, N. J.
Here interesting and beautiful children were born unto them,
their home was the abode of Christian refinement, their grounds
spacious and attractive, and for a time the cup of their happi-
ness seemed full.
342 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

One fine afternoon in the lovely month of June, Mr. Lutton and
his wife were sitting in the back piazza, the children were play-
ing amongst the flowers, birds were singing in the branches
above, while the soft winds of summer, loaded with delicious
fragrance, so filled the air, that existence became bliss, and the
whole scene was such as mortals rarely enjoy.

But a cloud of sadness soon passed over Mrs. Lutton’s mind,
and a presentiment of coming evils seemed to possess her. ‘‘O,
Robert,” she exclaimed, ‘‘ this is too perfect to continue.”’

In a few weeks, that terrible scourge of children, scarlet fever,
appeared in their family. One and another were taken, then
three of their little ones lay in death at the same time. Neigh-
bors fled as from a contagion, so that when the time for inter-
ment came, there being no one else to do it, the broken-hearted
father performed the solemn burial service over his own chil-
dren. Five were thus taken in six weeks, and in the short space
of nine months, seven of their children slept in death, by this
terrible disease. It was a dark day, but,

“Let us be patient! these severe afflictions
Not from the ground arise,
But oftentimes celestial benedictions
Assume this dark disguise.”

Then Mrs. Lutton herself was taken ill. It became a time of
heart-searching before the Lord. Why are these afflictions upon
us? She concluded they were not living in the line of duty,
and felt, unless her husband speedily re-entered the active work
of the ministry, she too would be removed. She told him her
feelings.

He thought so, too. Ina short time word came to him from
the Presiding Elder of Camden District, that death had made a
vacancy on the Swedesboro Circuit, and asking him if he would
fill it. His wife urged him to do so at once. Brother Lutton
consented, went to the charge, procured a dwelling, a small two
story, unpainted house, with but a single rough coating of plaster
on the walls, in strange contrast with their Burlington mansion,
not only without attractions, but without comforts.

Ina few weeks they moved, entered upon their work, Mrs.
ROBERT LUTTON. 348

Lutton got well, and declared she was far happier in their hum-
ble Swedesboro home doing their duty, than in their Burlington
mansion, neglecting it.

His subsequent appointments were, Bargaintown, Medford,
Whippany, Belleville, and Elizabethtown, N. J., Quarantine and
Port Richmond, N. Y., and Perth Amboy, N. J.

Then in 1846, they settled at Camden, N. J., where he be-
came connected with the Third St. M. E. church in the capacity
of a local preacher, and labored in the city and surrounding
country as opportunity offered.

Here, as years increased, his Christian character ripened to-
ward a beautiful perfection, so that in 1858, he was unanimously
re-admitted to the New Jersey Conference, and in connection
with the writer, as preacher in charge, received his appoint-
ment to the Third St. Church, Camden, as supernumerary.

Our connection there was of the most pleasant and profitable
character ; while his labors were abundant and successful.

As a friend, Brother Lutton was ardent. To the gushing
sympathies of his warm Irish nature were added the holier im-
pulses of Christ’s religion ; both together, made him a generous
and noble friend. The writer will never forget, how, when
worn with protracted toil, and needing rest, Brother Lutton came
to him one day, with aheart so full of sympathy, that it showed
itself in trembling lips and tears, and placing a considerable sum
of money in his hands said, ‘‘ Brother, a few of your friends
desire me to give you this, (and I wish,”’ said he, ‘‘ it was twice
as much,) with a request that you will give up the cares of your
charge for a few weeks, and seek rest, anywhere that your in-
clination may lead you.’’ The money and relief were both
valuable to a weary minister, but doubly so, because of the
genuine sympathy with which they were bestowed.

His ministry was popular. In all his stations he was accept-
able, in some eminently successful. His preaching was almost
invariably accompanied with that holy unction from above,
which cannot fail to find its way to the hearts of men. He felt
himself, and others felt. In his pulpit efforts his own soul often
became very happy, and God’s people sat under his ministrations
with great delight. He did much good, and many, someof whom
344 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

are now in the ministry, will rise up in the day of judgment and
call him blessed.

He had an elevated and joyful experience. This was true of
many periods of his life, but especially so during the later years
of his history. His path and his example grew brighter and
brighter, even to the perfect day. The last year of his life
was a perpetual triumph. He seemed to live, not only for
heaven, but in heaven. Often while listening to the word of the
Lord in the sanctuary, as he lifted up his voice in the high
praises of God, every faculty he possessed seemed to say,

“ My willing soul would stay,
In such a frame as this,
And sit and sing herself away,
To everlasting bliss.”

He seemed for many months, to stand like Moses, on the top
of the mount, while Jordan smiled in his view, and the promised
land was but a short way off.

In this state of mind, the final summons came. Hé was at-
tacked with hemorrhage of the lungs; the struggle was brief, and
on Sabbath evening, Dec. 5th, 1858, in the 67th year of his
age, he passed over, to be with Moses and the Lamb forever.
Thus closed a varied and useful life. His end was so sudden
and yet so peacefully triumphant, that we have felt like saying,

“There is no death! What seems so is transition,
This life of mortal breath
Is but a suburb of the life elysian
Whose portal we call death.”
‘

GEORGE LANE. 345

REV. GEORGE LANE.

Tue subject of our sketch, who, for a number of years occu-
pied one of the most prominent and important positions in the
M. E. Church of this country, was born in Kingston, Ulster Co.,
N. Y., on the 13th of April, 1784. His early years were spent
amid the toils and hardships incident to a residence in a new
country.

Almost entirely destitute of the privileges of the sanctuary,
at a period anterior to the era of Sabbath-schools and of Sab-
bath-school literature, the people there, in those days, enjoyed
but few religious advantages. The heroic itinerant following
closely the pioneer of civilization, would occasionally awaken
the echoes of the wilderness with his messages of mercy to
dying men. But our frontier was so extended, and the little
groups of population so scattered, that their visits were neces-
sarily quite infrequent. George, however, was more fortunate
than most of the youth in his community, for he had a most ex-
cellent mother—a Puritan of the old type, who exerted a con-
trolling influence over her son. Through the pious efforts of
this earnest woman he was often the subject of deep religious
convictions, which led him to go alone before God and pour out
his soul in fervent prayer.

In his twentieth year, under the preaching of Rev. James
Herron, he was more powerfully awakened than ever before.
This season of penitential sorrow, however, was brief, for he
soon emerged into the light of a clear, blessed religious experience,
and united immediately with the Methodist Episcopal Church.
Though he had no early advantages for mental improvement he
soon became conspicuous, not only as aman of eminent Christian
virtues but also of superior mental power.
346 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

Indeed, such was the estimate in which he was held by the
Church that the year following his conversion, in 1804, he was
employed by the Presiding Elder of the Genesee District as an
assistant preacher on the Tioga Circuit. In 1805 this new re-
cruit to the itinerant ranks was received on trial in the Philadel-
phia Conference, and appointed to Scipio Circuit, New York,
which was six hundred miles in circumference. In 1806, he
traveled Pompey Circuit, New York. He was sent in 1807 to
Accomac Circuit, on the eastern shore of Virginia. In 1808 he
was appointed missionary to the Holland Purchase, New York.
This mission included all the state west of Canandaigua, and was
a field involving hardships and privations of no ordinary char-
acter. His incessant exposures on this charge greatly impaired
his health, insomuch that after a year spent on the Wyoming
Circuit, Pennsylvania, at the Conference of 1810 he found it
necessary to ask a location. He was suffering when he went to
Wyoming with an affection of the lungs which his zeal, stimu-
lated by his success on that circuit, had so increased as to make
his retirement from the work a necessity. Ministers in these
days cannot realize the extent of his privations and sacrifices
during his year on the Holland Purchase mission. He found it
no easy matter to procure even the barest necessaries of life.
He was reduced to the necessity of making his own garments,
and, though without the slightest knowledge previously of
tailoring, or the use of the needle, he actually fitted himself with
a coat in which, such was the skill with which he executed the
task, he made a very creditable appearance at the Philadelphia
Conference the following spring. Thus, amid discouragements
which must have driven one not Divinely inspired from the field,
he continued, esteeming it a privilege to suffer for such a Master
and in such a cause. Here we have the sublime spectacle of a
man with business capacities which would have placed him
among the merchant princes of the world, living laborious days
in the midst of poverty and reproach, until his failing health
absolutely forbade his longer continuance therein, impelled
solely, as we believe, by the power of Christ’s constraining love.

In a letter to the author, the Rev. Dr. George Peck says of
him :—
GEORGE LANE. 347

‘*For the pioneer work he was admirably fitted. He had the
heart, the nerve, and the muscle for the hard work, the scanty
fare, and the persecution which were the lot of the early preach-
ers of this country. Neither mud, snow banks, swollen streams,
nor starvation could turn him aside from duty. Saving souls,
with him, was the noblest work in which a mortal could engage,
and no labor or sacrifice should be regarded as real difficulties in
the way of its accomplishment. Though he commenced his
itinerant career in 1805 evidence still exists of the zeal, courage,
and success with which he battled with the difficulties of that
rugged period of Methodistic history.”’

He entered into business in Wilkesbarre, Pa., immediately on
withdrawing from the Conference, but continued to preach quite
as often as was consistent with his condition of health. Being
diligent in business and fervent in spirit, he not only succeeded
in the former, but was respected and loved wherever known, as
a devout Christian and an excellent minister of Jesus Christ.

Rev. Dr. Elias Bowen, who knew him well at this period,
says :—

‘*When I first became acquainted with Rev. George Lane he
was engaged in mercantile business in old Wilkesbarre. This
place was situated near the centre of the old Wyoming two
weeks’ Circuit, on which it was my happiness to travel duriug
the years 1817 and 1818, and, being asingle man, I made my
home at the house of Brother Lane, where I had been cordially
invited. It was here I found in him aman to whom I could
always go amid the various trials and perplexities of a young
itinerant for sympathy and council, and I have always felt that
my success on the circuit (and I had a continual revival of religion
during my second year especially) was very much owing to the
countenance of such a man, the savor of whose name ‘was as
ointment poured forth’ in all that region of country.

‘In private life embracing his every-day intercourse with
friends and neighbors and the management of his domestic
affairs, he was a pattern of piety; and I have yet to become ac-
quainted with the man who excels him in the observance of the
principles and duties of family religion. His countenance ever
beaming with benignity and affection as he mingled with the
348 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

loved ones at home; and his family devotions exhibiting, like
the matins of the feathered songster, the same unfaltering ani-
mation from day to day, could but spread a cheerful solemnity
over the entire scene of family associations.

/* With regard to secular affairs he was a model business man.
It was not enough for him that he went not beyond the letter
of the law or the maxims of the business world, the law of the
Golden Rule. Nay, he ‘was a law unto himself,’ ‘doing as
he would be done by’ from the spontaneous impulsions of his
heaven-born nature. In all his business transactions it might
be truly said of him that he was not only honest, but honorable ;
commanding the respect of all with whom he had any dealings;
and being referred to as the ultimate authority—the universally
acknowledged standard among business men, who felt themselves
covered in any transaction for which they could allege his exam-
' ple. It was enough to be able to say of their acts and deeds,
‘Mr. Lane does so and so,’ or ‘Mr. Lane sells at such and
such prices.’

‘Mr. Lane was a man of large benevolence, bestowing of his
earthly substance with a bountiful hand as well for the carrying
forward and sustaining our benevolent institutions, as for the re-
lief of the poor within his reach, who everywhere recognized him
as one of Heaven’s divinely-appointed almoners.’’

After a period of nine years spent in mercantile pursuits his
health was so far restored that in 1819 he re-entered the travel-
ing connection, and was appointed Presiding Elder of the Sus-
quehanna District, where he labored during the disciplinary
term with great acceptance and success. In 1823 he was re-
turned to the Wyoming Circuit, where he saw abundant fruit
of his labor. In 1824 he was again appointed to the Eldership,
and placed in charge of the Ontario District, within the bounds
of which during the year more than a thousand souls were added
to the Church.

The health of his wife, and his family circumstances, were
such at the close of this year as to make it necessary for him to
ask a location for the second time; and he entered into business
again, this time, however, in Berwick, Pa. During the next
eight years he was found sedulously ministering to the necessi-
GEORGE LANE. 349

ties of an invalid wife and a large and dependent family, and fill-
ing with great usefulness and success a large circle of appoint-
ments extending some twenty miles around Berwick. ‘‘He
never allowed a Sabbath to pass,’’ writes an eminent cotempo-
rary who knew him intimately, ‘‘ without an appointment or an
opportunity to help in a revival to be unimproved. While
located he was always ready to assist the traveling preachers in
their work, and so fully did he retain the confidence of the
Church during these periods of retirement from the regular min-
istry, that at the termination of them he was appointed Presid-
ing Elder with the hearty approbation of the preachers and peo-
ple.”’ ‘For the work of a Presiding Elder,’’ continues this
gentleman, ‘‘Mr. Lane was well adapted. The gravity of his
manners and the earnestness of his spirit made a deep impres-
sion upon all, and were an example to be imitated by the younger
preachers. He held tenaciously to the Discipline and usages of
the M. E. Church, and labored to ‘keep’ the rules, and not to
‘mend them.’ When he traveled districts, he was a powerful
preacher, and was the means of the conversion of many souls.
His pungent appeals fastened upon the conscience and left life-
long impressions. Under his terrible denunciations of the wrath
of God at his quarterly meetings, or from the stand at camp-
meetings, hardened sinners would often tremble and sue for
mercy. Many precious souls from his old districts in the day
of the Lord will rise up and call him blessed. He dealt in the
staple truths of the gospel, he was not fond of novelties, and he
studied more to do good to the souls of the people than to excite
their wonder or tickle their fancy. There wasa simplicity, a fer-
vor of spirit, and a power in his language, both in his sermons
and his prayers, which told of deep communion with God and a
thorough sense of the worth of souls.”’

In 1832 his beloved wife was called from suffering to reward,
and he then began to carry into effect a long-cherished purpose
of entering again the regular work of the ministry. He was re-
admitted in 1834 into the Oneida Conference, and appointed
Presiding Elder of the Susquehanna District, where he remained
until he was appointed assistant book agent at New York by the
General Conference of 1836.
350 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

After his removal to New York he formed the acquaintance
of Miss Lydia Bunting, of that city, to whom he was married
the following year. In the spring of 1840 he was re-elected as-
sistant agent. The office of principal agent becoming vacant in
the following September, he was appointed by the book-com-
mittee to fill that place, and so efficiently did he serve the Church
in this important position, that the General Conference elected
him to its high responsibility in 1844 and again in 1848.

Rev. Dr. Peck, whose relation to the publishing interests of
the Church gave him ample facilities for forming an accurate
judgment of Mr. Lane’s qualifications for, and success in, the
office of book-agent, says, ‘‘ His attention to business was unre-
mitting. He was a perfect fixture in his office. He lost no
time. He took no recreation. During business hours he was
at his table, and idle gossip was lost upon him. He was al-
ways polite and accommodating to those who called upon him
at his office, but always made the impression that he had no
time to waste in idle conversation. His business matters were
conducted with method and despatch ; they were never entangled
or confused. George Lane was a man of strict integrity. The
vast interests committed to his trust were managed carefully and
to the best of his ability. As strong evidence of the wisdom of
his measures as can be furnished is to be found in the steady ad-
vancement in power and usefulness of those great institutions of
the Church, the Book-concern and the Missionary Society, while
he was Agent of the one and Treasurer of the other. Mr. Lane
was an unselfish man. He was a strict economist, never prac-
ticed nor tolerated any waste, but was possessed of a noble and
generous heart. He patronized every noble charity, and his
house was always open to his friends, and his table always spread
to supply them comforts. While he begged incessantly for the
missionary cause he gave liberally as well.’’

After having managed successfully the interests of this great
publishing house for a period of sixteen years, and having served
the Church in the important office of missionary treasurer most
of this time, at the General Conference of 1852 he found his
retirement from public labors and responsibilities demanded by
his increasing years and infirmities. Having cast about him for
- GEORGE LANE. 3851

a congenial locality, in which to spend the evening of his days,
he determined upon Mount Holly as his future residence, to
which place he removed in 1852, and became a member of the
New Jersey Annual Conference. He found his home and asso-
ciations here highly satisfactory, and did not hesitate to express
his conviction that a special Providence had led him to this
place. He stated, on one occasion in a meeting for religious ex-
perience, that after his retirement from business he ‘‘ could find
no rest for the sole of his foot until he came to Mount Holly,
that here he had felt a union of soul and a blessed sympathy
with the people of God, and he hoped to live and die with
them.’’ He was wont to say, he feared he loved his home almost
too well, and was too happy in it.

For several years after his removal to New Jersey he preached
regularly in Mount Holly and surrounding villages, and found
congenial employment in visiting and praying with the sick.
The poor and destitute of his town, during these years, found
in him not only a sympathizing friend, but one always ready to
supply their necessities with a liberal hand. Indeed, he carried
his charities so far as often to diminish his own comforts, pre-
ferring to give to the needy what he might himself otherwise
enjoy. He had himself been called to suffer, and had learned in
his own sad bereavements and bitter experiences to sympathize
with others’ woes. Two gifted sons, thoroughly educated and
eminently qualified for usefulness as ministers in the Church of
his choice, had been early called away from earth. He had
borne to their graves also two lovely daughters who had grown
to womanhood under his affectionate care. But that which he
felt, perhaps, more keenly than any other of his bereavements,
was the loss of his only remaining daughter, a bright and prom-
ising child of ten years. From this, it is thought, he never
fully recovered. His affections clung to this little girl with in-
tense fondness. He would often exclaim with flowing tears,
“Was she nota precious little one? might she not have been
spared?’’ Even in these sad moments, however, he was wont
to say, ‘‘ The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away, blessed
be the name of the Lord.”’

Mr. Lane’s declining days were marked by all the grace and
852 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

gentleness of virtuous age. His life’s busy day, as was fitting,
had its calm and tranquil evening—an evening, around which
clustered the pleasant memories of a well-spent life. He spent
hours every day upon his knees in communion with God. He
had a room set apart for this sacred audience with Deity, and
lived and walked in unbroken fellowship with his Divine Saviour.
He was solemn but not austere, grave but not dull; he exhibited
a tender concern for the well-being and comfort of all about him,
and his countenance uniformly beamed with heavenly light.
He enjoyed greatly his correspondence with friends. During
the sixteen years of his connection with the book-room he
found, amid its numerous cares, but little leisure for reading.
After his removal to Mount Holly he turned with great interest
to his books, and found them a source of great pleasure and
profit. ;

The last year of his life was spent at Wilkesbarre, Pa., where
he was surrounded by the friends and scenes of his earlier days.
It was, however, a year of great suffering, for very soon after
his arrival there he had a severe attack of paralysis, which
greatly prostrated him, not only physically, but, for a time, his
mind was also much affected. Though nearly helpless he was
not only uncomplaining but prayerful, devout, and happy. So
tender and grateful was he that even the slightest attentions
from his numerous and anxious friends always received the
most affectionate recognition. He often praised God aloud, and
almost to the last would repeat and sing those sweet familiar
hymns of our Church. The one in which he specially delighted
and which truly and beautifully expressed the exultation of his
triumphant spirit was that of Charles Wesley :

« And let this feeble body fail,
And let it faint and die.”

In the lips of such a man, under such circumstances, how fitting
was that charming hymn! Though his memory had been much
impaired, yet it was never at fault in calling up his favorite
hymns, These he would repeat entire without missing a word.
On the evening of the fifth of May, 1859, after commending
himself and friends to God in prayer, he entered into conversa-
GEORGE LANE. 3538

tion with a young member of his own family on the importance
of the study of the Holy Scriptures. He said to this person,
‘*Read the Scriptures, love them, treasure them in your heart,
and let them be your guide, and you will never be left desolate.’’
These were his last words. He retired to rest, as usual, but was
soon seized with convulsions, and at two o’clock in the morning
the weary wheels of life stood still, and George Lane, having
faithfully accomplished life’s great mission, entered into rest.

The subject of our sketch is not to be ranked among the bril-
liant intellects of the age, but is entitled to a very high place
among practical and useful men. Asa preacher, he was neither
noisy nor ostentatious, but in his best days was unusually effec-
tive. Though simple, and unpretending, he was intensely
earnest, too much in earnest indeed to be either demonstrative
or showy. His success was not due to extraordinary endow-
ments so much as to the concentration of all his powers of mind
and heart, upon the one great business of his life: he was never
unemployed, nor was he ever uselessly employed, but brought
all his energies with intense and persistent devotion to bear upon
the great aim and end of probation. His piety was a steady
blaze, and his whole life bore most unfaltering and consistent
testimony to the power of Christ’s redeeming blood, to cleanse
‘* from all sin.”’

I cannot, perhaps, more appropriately close this brief memoir
than by a resume of his character as a Christian and a minister,
furnished by his life-long friend, the Rev. Dr. Bowen, of
Oneida Conference, who says: ‘‘In his character as an emi-
nent Christian minister, taking him for all in all, he had
few equals. There have been many, doubtless, who pos-
sessed a higher school education, many whom the cold critic
would pronounce more eloquent than he; but if there have
been many among us who were capable of preaching with
more zeal, pathos, and tender Christian affection, many who could
appear before their audiences, with a more effective pulpit
oratory, I have not known them.

Few public speakers have been favored with a more command-
ing voice. Few have been wont to employ a more chaste and
impressive style of language. This last mentioned qualification

23
854 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

arose, not so much from his scholastic attainments, as from his
fine natural taste, and the habitual reading of the best authors.
I need not say to those who knew him, that ‘he was mighty in
prayer,’ or that in exhortation, that most desirable and useful
gift, he had scarcely an equal.

‘* Tt was the spirit of his Master, however, connected with his
purity of life and exemplary deportment, which clothed him
with that tremendous power of utterance under which the most
obdurate were often melted into tears. No man, in all the
Wyoming Valley where he lived when I first knew him, exerted
the same wide-spread and controling moral influence, with George
Lane. He was social without dogmatism; cheerful without
levity or trifling; having no fellowship with the unfruitful works
of darkness, but rather ‘reproving them.’ A single ex-
ample of his fidelity and kindness in giving reproof must here
suffice. A man coming into his store one day, when I happened
to be present, asked, ‘Have you playing cards here?’ ‘No,
sir,’ was the reply, ‘We have Bibles.’ The disappointed
customer, in a mortified and subdued tone, as he turned to go
out, said, ‘I suppose you good folks don’t keep such things.’

‘*But I must close my remarks upon one whom I venerated
more than any other man I ever saw, by saying of him, as Mr.
Wesley said of the immortal Fletcher, that, ‘After an acquaint-
ance of more than thirty years, I never saw him do an improper
act, or heard him speak an improper word.’ ”’
THOMAS NEAL. 855

REV. THOMAS NEAL.

THomas NEAL was born in the state of Maryland, April 9th,
1778. His parents were members of the Methodist Episcopal
Church, and occupied a respectable position in society. Thomas,
notwithstanding his religious training, and the fact that he was
reared on a farm, apart from the more corrupting associations
of town or city life, was disposed to seek worldly pleasure and
sinful amusement, especially in the ball room, and kindred places
of merriment and frivolity. This course was a great grief to his
parents, and his mother earnestly strove to persuade him to
leave his ungodly companions who were leading him to ruin.
And, as her concern increased, she made his case a subject of
special prayer, beseeching God, for hours together, to arrest
him in his evil course, and bring him into the fold of Christ.
Nor did she pray in vain, for God, who answers prayer, turned
her sorrow into joy, by leading the object of her solicitude to a
thorough and happy change of life.

The date of his conversion is not known, but on returning
home from a gay party one evening, with his mind filled with
the mirthful scenes through which he had passed, he retired
to rest as careless as usual. That night, however, the Lord
spoke to him ina dream. Eternity was opened to his view, the
abode of the lost was uncovered, and he was assured that such
would be his portion, if he continued in the ways of sin. So
deeply was he affected, that he resolved to lead a new life, and
at once set about making his peace with God, nor did he rest
till he had secured a saving interest in the blood of Christ. His
conversion was clear, the change in his after life so marked as to
be evident to all, and his zeal in the cause of religion as great
as it had been in seeking worldly pleasure.

When about the age of twenty-fouror twenty-five, he was
356 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

married and went ‘‘ West.’’ - But his expectations in regard to
the country, were not realized, and learning that his mother
was dangerously sick, he returned to his native place, and re-
sumed the occupation of farming.

For some time the Spirit of God had been whispering to his
heart, that he was called to the work of the ministry. But, like
many others, feeling unworthy to occupy such an important
post, he endeavored to stifle his convictions, and persuade him-
self that he was not competent for so responsible an undertak-
ing. Yet the voice still said, ‘‘Go and preach my gospel.’ In
the midst of this conflict, God, by his providence, solemnly spoke
to him. He was suddenly bereft of his beloved companion, and
left with two little ones to care for. He felt that the great afflic-
tion which was thus permitted to overtake him, was the voice
of God calling him to duty. ‘‘ Now,’’ said he, ‘‘I must go, lest
a worse thing come upon me. Woe is meif I preach not the
gospel.”” About this time a Presiding Elder visited him, and
after a long conversation on the subject, persuaded him to go at
once into the regular work. He reached a decision, left the
corn field, still needing his labor, made provision for his moth-
erless children, gave up his farm, and abandoning all worldly
prospects, went forth, trusting in God, to the holy, but arduous
and responsible work of the ministry.

He was received on trial by the Philadelphia Conference April
26th, 1808, and, after the usual time, passed to full membership
and to deacons’ and elders’ orders. The following long list gives
his appointments; 1808, Annamessix; 1809, Smyrna; 1810,
Trenton; 1811, Essex; 1812-13, Sussex; 1814, Asbury; 1815,
Trenton: 1816, Freehold; 1817-18, Cumberland; 1819-20,
Salem ; 1821-2, Essex and Staten Island; 1823-4, New Mills;
1825-6, Lancaster; 1827-8, Dauphin; 1829-30, Bristol; 1831,
Freehold ; 1832-3, Crosswicks ; 1834-5, Western Church, Phila-
delphia; 1836, Camden. When the New Jersey Conference
was formed he remained within its bounds and filled the office
of Presiding Elder eight consecutive years, four on the Camden
and four on the Burlington District. He was a delegate to the
General Conferences of 1824, 1828, 1832, and 1844. He settled
in Burlington, N. J.. as a supernumerary, in 1845, in which
THOMAS NEAL. 357

place and relation he continued till. September 9th, 1859, when,
in the seventy-eighth year of his age, and the fifty-first of his
ministry, he was transferred to heaven.

The space here allowed is quite insufficient to give a full account
in detail of what was accomplished for God and humanity by the
abundant labors of this faithful minister of Christ. The success
which attended his efforts in nearly all his appointments afforded
conclusive evidence that he had not mistaken his calling, but °
was a chosen vessel for the Master’s use. Some of the most
powerful and sweeping revivals in connection with Methodism
in New Jersey, commenced under his ministry. At what is now
Pemberton a great work prevailed, of the fruits of which there
are yet living and grateful witnesscs. It began in a prayer-
meeting in his own house, and one says, ‘It broke out like fire
in the woods, and spread from heart to heart, and from house
to house, until the whole community was in a blaze of salva-
tion.’ Eminent servants of God, who have long stood on the
‘‘walls of Zion,’”’ and been the means of bringing thousands to
Christ; and many esteemed members of the Church, who still
adorn the doctrine of God their Saviour, were converted in that
revival. This was only one of many places that shared largely
in the fruits of his evangelical and faithful labors. Trenton,
Salem, Cumberland, Harrisburg, on Dauphin Circuit, Lancaster,
and Bristol; and, indeed, nearly every place he served was
favored with a gracious revival.

Sometimes he was sent to places where religion was low, and
matters, in other respects, most discouraging. Perhaps no
house for the new preacher, and no one who seemed to care
whether any were provided or other comforts procured. Yet
this man of God, who had faith in the reformatory power of the
gospel, and believed. that he was in the order of Providence
while engaged in the work assigned him by the Church, entered
upon it, expecting the attending blessing of Heaven. Sustained
by this faith, he was happy in God, happy in his work, and sel-
dom failed to reap thirty, sixty, or an hundred fold, and to see
the wilderness and solitary places made glad, and the desert re-
joice and blossom as the rose.

In 1810 Miss Jemina Rulon, of Trenton, became his second
358 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

wife, a most estimable lady, who became a faithful, affectionate
companion and a helpmate indeed. The truths he proclaimed
she manifested and confirmed by her saintly walk and pious con-
versation. She was wise in council, strong in faith, earnest in
prayer, consistent in life, and thus wielded an undivided influence
in aiding to promote his great work.

Asa preacher, Thomas Neal occupied a creditable position.
He did not lay claim to learning or eloquence. ‘‘ His preaching
was not with enticing words of man’s wisdom, but often in
demonstration of the Spirit and of power.’’ He had clear views
of the theology of his own Church, dwelt mainly upon the car-
dinal doctrines of the gospel, employed plain, familiar language,
brought to his task a warm,honest heart and the accompanying
unction of the Holy Ghost, and with these weapons earnestly
sought immediate practical results. The writer once heard him
say, that, as he went to preach at a certain place where religion
was very low, he felt a great desire to see a revival. His subject
was a free and full salvation, and while delivering it, his soul
was filled with glory; Divine power came upon the people.
Some trembled, others were prostrated upon the floor, others
cried for mercy, while many shouted for joy. The presence of
God filled the earthly temple, and a revival continued with in-
creasing interest for weeks, and resulted in the conversion and
sanctification of many souls.

In manner, he was warm, earnest, and impressive. The fire
usually kindled in his own soul, as he advanced with his subject,
and enabled him to throw much spiritual life, tender feeling, and
stirring energy into his efforts. He was an advocate for short
exercises, whether in preaching, praying, or singing, and he
seldom transgressed his own rules in this respect. The people
were wont to say, ‘‘ He knew when to stop.’’ But on one occa-
sion, at least, he found it necessary to stop sooner than he de-
sired. He was preaching in one of our large churches, and be-
came so embarrassed that, at the end of fifteen minutes, he was
compelled to take his seat. He closed by saying, ‘‘ Brethren, I
am out at sea and cannot get back again; pray for me.”’ But
they could not help him back, yet, in that sea, many another,
before and since, has sunken, as well as he.
THOMAS NEAL. 359

Thomas Neal was aman of the people. His plain and un-
pretending manners, frank and open generosity, fervent and
earnest exercises, pleasant social habits, and prompt and sympa-
thetic attention to the afflicted, together with the fact that he
was never tedious, rendered him popular everywhere, and
made his visits to be hailed with pleasure and his services to be
highly appreciated. Whatever impression his ministry made in
other respects, it never failed to carry the conviction that he
was a good man, and hence his influence in the sick-room and
among the bereaved and those passing through life’s heavier
trials, was most salutary. While on Staten Island an awful
storm arose one Haster Sunday morning. The rain poured in
torrents, and many of the people thought a second deluge was
coming. They flocked around their pastor, asking him to pray
for them, and seemed to feel safe in his presence.

His heart.was in his work, and he endeavored to perform
every part of it with conscientious fidelity. He met all his ap-
pointments with great punctuality, in all kinds of weather and
under all circumstances, except when providentially prevented.
He visited from house to house, seeking to do the work of a
faithful pastor, and took a deep interest in the children and in
promoting the cause of Sunday-schools. In a number of places,
where there was occasion for it and where it seemed feasible,
he organized new schools, and thus set many to work in the
vineyard of the Lord. He also took an active part in seeking
to improve our Church property. The Western Church, Phila-
delphia, was built while under his pastoral care. Much of the
money had to be raised in small sums, and it is said that he
never failed to secure through the week the means of paying the
workmen on Saturday evening.

The multiplicity of his duties and cares, were not allowed to
interfere with his domestic obligations. He was a considerate
husband and a kind father, but at the same time, carefully
trained his children, and was strict with them in religious mat-
ters and especially in regard to the observance of the Sabbath.
Yet a somewhat amusing incident is related in respect to his
home duties. While absent on one of his circuits, he was de-
tained beyond the expected time. Before he returned, the prepared
é

360 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

fuel became exhausted, and Mrs. Neal went to a neighbor’s and
asked the woman if her son might saw some wood. She became
angry and declared her son should not saw wood for such a man
as Mr. Neal, who was running round the country and neglecting
his own family. Said she, ‘‘ Do you know what the good book
says?’ ‘Ifany provide not for his own, and especially for those
of his own house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an
infidel.’’? Mrs. Neal keenly felt the rough repulse, but as her
custom was, she went in private and told the Lord all about it.
Before she ceased praying she heard a knock at the door, and to
her astonishment, there was the boy with his saw, and the wo-
man with some good things for Mrs. Neal. ‘‘Oh,’’ said she, as
she passed the basket over, ‘‘ how sorry [am that I talked so
about your husband. I believe now he is a good man, and is
about his Master’s work. Forgive me, and accept this, and I
shall always be your friend ;’’ and she kept her word.

An incident or two will illustrate the singular care of Provi-
dence in connection with the slender income and varied trials of
his times. On one occasion he was detained from home several
days longer than was expected, by a severe snow storm. The
provisions became exhausted, and with a trembling hand Mrs.
Neal gave the last piece of bread to her hungry children, and
retired supperless, herself, feeling confident, however, that he
who sent the ravens to Elijah, would not forget her. That night
a brother in the church had a strange dream about the preacher’s
family, which so disturbed him that he could not rest, until he
ascertained if anything was the matter. Thinking it would be
safe to take some provisions along, he arrived at the house
about daylight. He soon learned the condition of affairs, and
felt assured that God had sent him to relieve the family of his
servant. At another time Mrs. Neal was taken sick in the ab-
sence of her husband. The woman who came to take care of
her, wanted money to procure some needed articles. Mrs. Neal
who thought there was none in the house, and was afraid to let
it be known, lest the nurse should leave, asked for the Bible,
intending to seek comfort from its holy counsels, when at the
first place she opened it, to her surprise and delight, she found
a five dollar bill. How it got there she did not know, but
thanked God for help in a time of' so great need.
THOMAS NEAL. 361

When father Neal settled in Burlington, and ceased to do the
work of an effective minister, he still continued to labor as he
was able. For years he took his place on the local preachers’
plan, and often filled the pulpits of his brethren. When the
Second M. E. Church in that city was projected, he identified
himself with, and took a lively interest in the enterprise. After
the society was organized he took charge of it till a regular
pastor was appointed. By its members he was much beloved in
life, and lamented in death.

He was also held in high esteem by the people of this city
generally, of which they gave many substantial tokens. When
it came to be known that some three hundred dollars were all
that he had laid aside for old age, though his arduous ministry
had covered near half a century, it was proposed to purchase
and present to him the property on which he lived. This noble
enterprise was started among some friends at the house of the
late Col. Hays, who by purse and active efforts evinced a lively
interest in the matter. And when the project became known
abroad, donations came pouring in from all quarters, and espe-
cially from his brethren in the ministry, until more than enough
was realized to accomplish the object,

Nor was the generosity of his friends exhausted in this one
valuable gift. Again and again was their affection and esteem
substantially verified. Having no income but his small annual
quota from the Conference, he would have suffered had it not been
for the liberality of his friends, but these the Master did not fail
to raise up. The people of Burlington constantly testified their
appreciation of his character and services in this way. Nor
were his friends confined to that city, as a few facts will in part
show. One year his money was gone by about camp-meeting
time. The question arose, how shall we get our winter stores ?.
But the conclusion was, the Lord will provide. He attended
one of those modern feasts of tabernacles, and while there, two
unconverted young men introduced themselves, and after some
conversation, to his great surprise, each gave him twenty-five
dollars. At another time, he received a telegram, directing him
to go to the freight depot, at Burlington, and he would learn
something to his advantage. He went, but found nothing, and
362 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

as it was the lst of April, he concluded some one was playing
off a joke upon him. About noon, however, the freight wagon
delivered a barrel of flour and two bags, one of sugar and the
other of coffee. But whence they came he never learned. Evi-
dence is also furnished of the very high esteem in which he was
held by the citizens of Burlington, in an obituary notice, written
by a gentleman of the place at the time of his death.

Father Neal lived the life of the righteous, as those who knew
him intimately, fully learned. That his end should be peace
was therefore confidently to be expected. The sickness that
conducted him down to the chambers of death, came upon him
some six weeks before his departure. He attended the camp-
meeting at Penns Grove, N. J., where he preached his last.
sermon, in the delivery of which he was greatly baptized with
the Holy Spirit. He returned home as he said, ‘‘ with his soul
full of glory, happy, happy in God.’’ The next week he was
much prostrated with a chronic disease; yet his friends did not
anticipate a fatal termination. His sufferings were great, but he
was fully sustained through them all. ‘‘ His peace flowed likea
river,’’ and sometimes he had such views of heaven as filled his
soul with ecstacy. He was often heard to say, as the tears of
joy coursed down his cheeks, ‘‘I have had precious views of
heaven to-day, and it is so delightful. O glory, glory. glory!”
During his illness, his nerves were much affected, and sometimes
he could get no bodily rest day or night. A friend who was at-
tending by his bed while he was suffering much pain, repeated
the words of Paul, ‘‘ For our light affliction, which is but for a
moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight
of glory.” ‘‘Oh, yes,’ he replied, ‘‘the glory, the glory is
coming.’’ At another time a friend inquired if he was fully ac-
cepted of God. ‘‘ Yes,’”’ he said, ‘‘I am the Lord’s, and he is
mine.’’ A few days before his death, he had an attack of
quinsy which very much increased his sufferings. During his
last hours, however, he seemed to be relieved from all pain, so
that he was permitted to quit the mortal strife in a condition of
perfect tranquility. The summons to cease from labor and suf-
fering, and enter into rest, was evidently most welcome; for
though his speech was gone, his beaming countenartice and speak-
THOMAS NEAL. 3863

ing e¥e, expressed more of peace and joy within than any words
could convey. Thus lived and died this veteran of the cross.
Well might those exclaim who witnessed his departure, ‘‘ The
chamber where the good man meets his fate, is privileged
above the common walks of virtuous life, it is the gate of
heaven.”

His venerable companion went home to glory about eighteen
months before her husband. Death was not permitted long to
divide them. They lived and labored together for nearly fifty
years, in the cause of their blessed Master, and are now reaping
abundantly their reward inheaven. May their children with the
writer and reader hail them in their happy home!
364 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

REV. EDWARD STOUT.

“ But on he moves to meet his latter end,
Angels around, befriending virtue’s friend;
Sinks to the grave with unperceived decay,
While resignation gently slopes the way,

And all his prospects, brightening to the last,
His heaven commences ere the world be past.”

Rev. Epwarp Srovut, the son of Joseph and Sarah Stout,
was born in Burlington Co., N. J., near the city of that name,
on the 26th of July, 1786. When but a child, his father re-
moved to Salem Co., where the whole family resided for many
years.

During the early part of his life, young Edward followed the
water, and became inured to the trials and hardships incident to
such a calling.

At that day, and especially situated as he was, opportunities
for spiritual and mental culture were few. Sabbath-schools did
not exist, and while there were a few inferior day-schools, he
could only attend a short time in the winter season.

Still his mind and heart were under the influence and teach-
ings of the Holy Ghost. He saw and felt that he was asinner,
and needed salvation.

In 1806, a gracious revival of religion broke out in Perkintown,
N. J., and a number of his young companions sought and found
the Saviour. These things, however, while they deepened his
religious convictions, did not lead him to give his heart immedi-
ately to God.

Shortly after the revival ceased, one of these new converts
died in the triumphs of faith. He attended thes funeral; and
EDWARD STOUT. 3865

while listening to the sermon, preached on this occasion by a lo-
cal minister, familiarly known as ‘‘ Uncle John Vaneniman,’’ he
wept freely, and determined that he too would be a Christian.

In May, 1807, true to his resolution, he joined the M. E.
Church as a seeker of salvation. In the following month, at the
first camp-meeting ever held in West Jersey, at Pilesgrove, Sa-
lem Co., he was happily converted to God. The change was
marked and influential, and, from the first, he became a decided
Christian.

In 1809 he was married to Miss Clarissa Mulford. Shortly
after this he was appointed to the charge of aclass. In this de-
partment he was laborious and successful, and so secured the
approval of the Church,'that Rev. Daniel Ireland gave him ]i-
cense to exhort. Here he was zealous and efficient, holding
meetings whenever he found an open door, and his labors were
blessed in the pulling down of the strongholds of sin, and the
edification of the people of God.

A few days after New Year’s, 1814, Rev. Michael Coates, Pre-
siding Elder of West Jersey District, called him to fill a vacancy
on the New Mills Circuit, with Rev. John Woolston, preacher
in charge.

The January snows were deep, and the journey, at that time
and season of the year, from Salem to New Millstedious. Still,
with a strong faith and heart full of love to God, the young itin-
erant took his saddle-bags, mounted his horse, and, facing the
north-east blast, set out for his new and important life-work.

He remained there until the session of the Philadelphia Con-
ference, in the following April, the last which Bishop Asbury
ever attended in that city, at which he was received on trial, and
appointed to Gloucester Circuit, having at that time some twen-
ty-five or more preaching places, with Rev. J. Woolston for his
colleague again.

His itinerant career, now fully inaugurated, continued for a long
series of years, exhibiting a degree of mental determination to
be faithful in all departments of his work, accompanied with
corresponding physical energies, rarely equaled, perhaps never
excelled.

In 1815 he was appointed to Centreville Circuit, Queen Ann’s
866 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

County, Md., with Rev. William Leonard. Up to this time his
family had been stationary. He now moved them to his field
of labor. The Parsonage was a low, one-story, oak weather-
boarded house, without even the cheap adornment of white-wash
to give it acheerful appearance. It was equally divided into
two apartments—kitchen and parlor. The loft, which was
reached by a ladder from one corner of the kitchen, served as a
bed-room. It was a poor affair, and the itinerants felt it so, but
under the persuasion that it was even better than the Master
had, tried to be contented.

His salary, with a family consisting of five persons, was $174,
all of which he did not receive. But the flame of revival spread
with such irresistible power and glory, that the preachers some-
times had scarcely opportunity to eat, or to enjoy the luxury of
a fine parsonage, for they were on the go, from point to point,
and from house to house, both day and night, and the slain of
the Lord were many.

In 1816 he was elected to deacon’s orders, but owing to the
death of Asbury, they were without a Bishop at that conference,
and he was not ordained. From that Conference he was ap-
pointed to Cecil Circuit, with Rev. John Sharply, who, he says,
was a good man, a good minister, and a good colleague.

In 1817 he was ordained deacon by Bishop George, and with
Rey. Thos. Miller appointed to Smyrna Circuit, to which, in
1818, he was returned with Rev. J. Moore.

His labors in Maryland and Delaware closed with these years.
These labors had been arduous, but pleasant, and to his latest
hours he often referred to them and his numerous friends there
with sentiments of the warmest affection

His subsequent charges, with one exception, were in New
Jersey, where he continued to labor without interruption on
Cumberland, Gloucester, and Salem Circuits until 1825. While
engaged on one of the above fields, he wrote a letter to his Pre-
siding Elder, Rev. Lawrence McCombs, in reference to the in-
terests of the charge, and other matters. As the Presiding El-
der’s answer is of some historical interest, we insert the larger
part of it for the reader’s benefit.
EDWARD STfouT. 367

TRENTON, June 5th, 1820.

DeEsr Broruer:—I received your kind letter of May 22d.
I am glad to hear of your health and the prospect which appears
on your circuit favorable to religion. But I perceive that it is
with you as it is in most other cases in this life, that with the
sweet there is some collection of bitter. I am not able to tell
what to do, nor how to do, with some cases which I meet in this
world. The case you mention is one of the unaccountables.
That dear brother is an old preacher, but nobody wants him. I
do not know any place where I could put him that would answer
any better than where he is. I think preachers who cannot, or
will not, serve the people as they ought, should locate. I have
made my observations, and find that those preachers who labor
hard, even if they have not very brilliant talents, will generally
be received by the people. But he is too old to be taught much
on such subjects. I hope our brethren will do the best they can
under their peculiar embarrassments.

You want to know something about our General Conference.
I wish it was in my power to give you a favorable account of all
our doings.

We had a great time, and a disagreeable one, in discussing the
subject of electing Presiding Elders. The answer to the ques-
tion in the Discipline, ‘‘ Who shall choose the Presiding Elders?
which is, ‘‘ The Bishops,’”’ we wanted changed to ‘‘ The Annual
Conference.’’ After the subject had been under discussion for
about two days, there was a proposition presented for accommo-
dation, which was, ‘‘ The Bishops shall nominate three, and the
Conference elect one from the three nominated.’’ This was car-
ried 61 to 25.

In this state the matter rested for five days in peace and har-
mony. In the meantime J. Soul® was elected Bishop, and he
wrote a letter to the other Bishops that he could not, and would
not, administer the Discipline under this arrangement. Mr.
McKendree came into the Conference with Soule’s letter and his
own talk, and entered a protest against the dictation of the Gene-
ral Conference. It was then moved to reconsider the vote, and
we stood twice 43 and 43. So there was no reconsideration.
After this 8. G. Rossell got a proposition written to suspend the
368 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

rule for four years. He got forty-five signers to it out of doors,
and came into the Conference determined to carry it without ar-
gument, and, of course, succeeded. a ee ey ae

‘“T must give a view of what was done about local preachers.
There is to be annually in each Presiding Elder’s district, a dis-
trict Conference, of which all the local preachers in the district
who have been licensed two years, are to be members. The
Presiding Elder to be president. This is similar to our annual
Conferences, and is to have power to license, and to renew
licenses, to recommend persons in the local connection for ordi-
nation, and also persons to be admitted into the traveling con-
nection, to expel, suspend, or censure, as the case may be.
This is a new thing under the sun, amongst us. There were
many things done besides, and some of them out of our line of
things, of which, at some convenient season, I will give you as
much knowledge as I can. * % % *

“* Accept of the affections of myself and family,

“TL. McComas.”

The closing months of Brother Stout’s labors on Salem Cir-
cuit, in 1824-5, were times of great prosperity and power. The
young and earnest Anthony Atwood was his colleague. They
were ttue yoke-fellows, each intent on doing the largest possible
amount of good. Late in the summer of the year named, the
wife of Brother Stout, being sick, dreamed that her husband
sat by her bed-side, looking pale, haggard, and worn. She was
alarmed, and expressed her fears that he was about to die. He
made no answer, but, with a sweet smile, pointed to another
part of the room, and asked her if she saw that beautiful star,
which seemed to be waving back and forth, with unusual bril-
liancy. e

‘Ves!’ she exclaimed, ‘‘I see it;’’ and the star still burned
with increasing brightness. Some time afterwards she chanced
to mention her dream to a pious female friend. That friend imme-
diately replied, ‘‘I think I can interpret your dream. Brother
Stout,’’ said she, ‘‘is going to havea great revival on his circuit, in
the labors of which he will become greatly prostrated in body, but
do not be discouraged, his reward is sure, and stars will be
EDWARD STOUT. 369

added to his crown of rejoicing.”” The interpretation was full-
filled. A great revival broke out in the fall, which continued
up to the next Conference, in which hundreds upon hundreds
were converted and added to the Church. The preachers were
much worn, Brother Stout, in particular, to the last extreme,
so that, haggard and faint, he went to Conference, and was ap-
pointed to Bristol, another large circuit in Pennsylvania, where,
with much physical embarrassment he labored for the next two
years.

At the expiration of this time, in 1827, utterly exhausted, he
was compelled to ask for a supernumerary relation. He then
removed his family from Germantown, where he had resided
while on Bristol Circuit, to Camden, N. J.

But, though a supernumerary, a man of his active habits
could not be idle. Camden was part of a large circuit. The
regular ministers could only preach there once in two weeks, on
Sabbath afternoons. Brother Stout soon saw that with such an
arrangement, while it was the best the circuit preachers could
do, was, at the same time, doing but little for the Church there.
Camden, so contiguous to Philadelphia, was continually drained
of its denominational strength, by its larger and more wealthy
neighbor.

Something must be done to consolidate the Church and keep
the people at home. As one means of accomplishing this, he
proposed to the Society to establish a Sabbath morning appoint-
ment,'and, as far as he was able, preach himself, and when he
could not, secure the services of some one else. The proposi-
tion was accepted, and from that day the cause has advanced in
Camden, until we now number four flourishing churches, and a
prosperous mission with several appointments occupying the
outposts of Zion. “

Leaving Camden, in 1828, he removed to Sharpstown, after-
wards to Woodstown, and finally to Allowaystown, in each of
which places he kept a country store, a course rendered neces-
sary. from the fact that the little means he possessed when he
commenced to travel had been exhausted in the support of his
family, the limited amount of salary received from the Church
failing to accomplish that result. ,

24
370 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

In 1831, his health so far recovered that he re-entered the
regular work, and was appointed to Bargaintown Circuit, where
he remained two years.

From 1833 to 1845 he labored on Gloucester, Cumberland,
Salem, Moorestown, Medford, Swedesboro’, Gloucester, Tucker-
ton, Haddonfield, and Columbus Circuits.

On the last named charge, his physical energies, so long
strained and overworked, gave way, and he was compelled, re-
luctantly, to give up the cherished work, to which he had de-
voted so many years of his life. These fields were, many of
them, large and laborious, yet, though much of the time infirm
and broken, he persevered to such an extent that few young
men could equal, and with whom, on that account, many felt re-
luctant to be associated.

On all these charges there were additions to the Church, on
some of them large and wonderful revivals of religion, in which
the foundations for churches and parsonages were laid, which
have since sprung up, and now flourish through all these re-
gions.

His style of preaching was plain, pointed, and practical,
adapted to the wants of the people, accompanied with the unc-
tion of the Holy Ghost, and sometimes with wonderful exhibi-
tions of Divine power.

His themes were the great fundamental principles of our holy
religion. He had no time or taste for speculation. Human
depravity he knew was a mournful fact, and Christian holiness
he had experienced asa glorious privilege. In all his pulpit
efforts, therefore, his great and only object was to bring the
world from the gloomy depths of the one, and then to the ex-
alted enjoyment of the other. Christ was his sovereign remedy
for sin, the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end of all
gospel preaching.

On the great practical duties of Christianity, he dwelt with
frequency and fervor. His observance of the Sabbath was rigid,
and he continually enforced the same duty, both publicly and
privately, upon all.

In all things he was strict with himself. He fasted regularly,
and from principle. He was an early riser, and spent much of
his time in secret prayer. His walk was close with God. Even
EDWARD STOUT. 371

in the smallest matters he was conscientious to the last extreme.
He was a thorough disciplinarian. ‘‘ He did not mend the rules
but kept them; not for wrath but for conscience sake.’”’ He
wanted others to do the same,—first, because they were the
rules of the Church with which they had voluntarily united;
and, secondly, because the observance of these rules promoted
order in the societies, and holiness in the souls of men, while a
violation of these disciplinary requirements, founded, as they
are, upon the word of God, resulted in spiritual declension, if not
in everlasting ruin. As a faithful shepherd, he constantly en-
forced the rules.

In so doing, he sometimes made enemies. This, he regretted,
but still he discharged his duty fearlessly, not in malice, but in
love.

His library was small, but well selected, and wholly Methodist.
No work of doubtful tendency, was admitted to his shelves,
or recommended to others. Clark, Wesley and Fletcher, were
oracles, which he regarded, next to inspiration.

His reading was almost, if not wholly confined to the Scrip-
tures and Wesleyan theology, in which he became proficient,
and therefore a sound and successful minister.

He was conscientiously plain, in manners, dress, and equipage.
On one occasion, he had ordered a newcarriage. When it came
home, there were some ornamental parts of it, plated with silver.
Although there was nothing really objectionable, yet, fearing
the influence of such an example, he carefully wound black tape
all around the plated parts, that every appearance of show might
be concealed.

In 1840, he located his family in Haddonfield, Camden Co.,
where they still reside. Here, when unable to engage longer in
the active service of his Lord, he retired, to await the arrival
of that messenger who should summon him to the spirit world.
He waited solemnly, patiently, and prayerfully for fourteen years.
But he was not idle. During these years, he often walked
several miles and preached, and felt it a blessed privilege so to
do. His influence was always good, and the light of his holy
example shone with increasing brightness to the last. But the
close of his pilgrimage came on. It was a calm autumnal day,
November 3d, 1859. The sun shone brightly, and the atmos-
372 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

phere was bland. He walked some two miles that morning, as
he generally did when the weather would permit. Returning
about eleven o’clock, he rested upon the lounge. At twelve
o'clock, he arose, and sat down with the family to dinner. With
a low trembling voice he offered thanks to God for every mercy,
and solemnly implored a blessing upon their meal. Hach member
of the family had been served, and they were about to eat, but.

“A voice that moment came,
He started up to hear,
A mortal arrow pierced his frame,
He fell, but felt no fear.”

His son, a physician, who, providentially was at home, sprang
to catch his falling father. It was too late to be of service, the
tongue and throat were paralyzed; in a few moments he ceased
to breathe, and the toils and sorrows of seventy-four years were
ended. What a scene was here presented.

“There was weeping on earth for the lost!
There was bowing in grief to the ground
But rejoicing and praise, ’mid the sanctified host,
For a spirit in Paradise found!
Though brightness had passed from the earth,
Yet a star was new born in the sky,
And a soul had gone home to the land of its birth,
Where are pleasures and fullness of joy!
And a new harp was strung, and a new song was given,
To the breezes that float o’er the gardens of heaven.”

On the following Monday, a funeral discourse was preached
by the Presiding Elder, Rev. George F. Brown, D. D., and his
remains were deposited in the burial ground of the Haddonfield
M. E. Church, to await the resurrection of the just,

“When death shall yield his ancient reign,
And, vanquished, quit the field.”

The following letter, written by a venerated and venerable
minister, now in heaven, may properly close this article.

PENNINGTON, Dec. 30th, 1859.
Dear Sister Stout, AND Famity:—I have for some time
desired to send you a few lines of sympathy and condolence,
EDWARD STOUT. 373

upon your late painful bereavement, but I have been hindered
through a succession of difficulties. *

It had always been my purpose, should I outlive my dear
brother, if possible to attend his funeral obsequies, for I always
esteemed him one of my dear brethren in the Lord. Yes, I
loved him most affectionately. Our mutual toils and sufferings
endeared us to each other. And now that he is taken from us,
his memory will be cherished with the most kindly thoughts and
feelings. I do hope that his saintly life may have a holy influ-
ence upon us, as long as we may be permitted to stay in this
valley of tears. His example is your legacy; yes, and itis mine;
for I knew his life. ‘‘He being dead, yetspeaketh.’’ I shall
ever think of him as aman who lived and walked as in the
presence of God; and God has taken his blood-washed spirit to
Himself. It is his gain to have died, yes, entire, and eternal
gain. This blessed fact should soothe the sorrows of our hearts,
while we feel painfully our loss. May the God of all grace
support your hearts, as he did his, in his many and long suffer-
ings. You may feel some regrets that his exit was so sudden,
but was it not a great mercy to him; for when the time came
that he should be removed, quick almost as lightning flash, with-
out those convulsive struggles which wake death-bed scenes doubly
afflictive, he was released, and taken up to rest with his God.

Three of our oldest ministers have been taken in regular
succession from amongst us, and I stand the next upon the
list. Oh that my loins may be girded about, and my light be
brightly burning, when the Master comes and calls for me.
Should I be so happy as to find my future home where my
dear Brother Stout has found his, we shall have many mutually
pleasing reflections upon the way which the Lord led us in our
pilgrimage on earth.

Let me say to you, trust confidingly in the sure mercies of
your covenant-keeping God. He has promised to be a husband
to the widow, and a father to the fatherless.

My dear wife sends her love, and unites her sympathies with
mine.

Your brother in Christ, most affectionately,
Ricuarp W. PETHERBRIDGE.
374 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

REV. EDWARD SANDERS.

Or the early days of the subject of the present memoir but
little is known, save that he grew up to youthful manhood in
the practice of the severest morality, but with no clear teachings
of experimental religion. ‘Ihe first religious fact that it seems
possible to recover, connects with an evening which the neighbor-
hood had devoted to pleasure. There were jest and dance and
song—sparkling wit and gushing music; while the obligations
of life and the solemnities of death were forgotten. Among this
group was Edward Sanders. Tall and spare, with thoughtful
brow and eye, strong in physique, mind, and spirit, he stood
prominent among the revelers. In the midst of all this, like the
flash of the summer’s lightning, the Spirit of God awakened his
conscience. Where were his steps tending? What was to be
the end of his path? Would not its sunlight go down in cloud
and storm? Was he nota sinner, and would not God require
an account of transgression? Might not eternal woe lie at the
end of any moment of his life? Impressed with these questions
his anguish soon became intolerable. The contrast between
the scenes around him and the facts of his condition was too
strong to be resisted, and he rushed from the house into the
fields and woods, where the darkness of the night corresponded
with the blackness in his mind. The hours drifted past him, but
brought him no relief. The morning found him weeping and
sorrowing, and, like the pilgrim in the world’s allegory, with but
one concern—the salvation of his soul; and of that, alas! those
around him could tell him nothing. He repaired to his father’s
house, but the sight of pleasant faces brought no comfort to his
spirit. He secluded himself entirely in his room, praying and
reading the Bible, and endeavoring by a sorrowful repentance to
EDWARD SANDERS. 3875

merit some favor at the hand of God. Weeks passed thus, and
still gross darkness covered his mind. His bread was eaten in
bitterness and his water mingled with tears as he felt the arrows
of the Almighty in his wounded spirit. His health began to
fail, and friends trembled for his reason. They endeavored to
divert his mind, but God alone could satisfy it, and to Him he
knew not the way, and he began to fear that he was lost forever.

At a little distance from his father’s house there resided a de-
vout and humble Methodist, who was generally regarded by the
pleasure-loving community as a fanatic. It occurred to him that
possibly he might help him, and he was sent for at once. The
good man spent some time instructing him more perfectly in the
way of salvation, illustrating the gospel theory by a matured and
clear experience, till faint glimmerings of the light began to ap-
pear. A camp-meeting was held near him, and there he took
his weary spirit, hoping for freshening life. Nor did he hope in
vain. Under the preaching of the word he believed, and all sor-
row passed away. Radiant with hope and joy he returned, an
astonishment to the friends, who, unable to understand his pre-
vious depression, now looked wonderingly on to see if this were
indeed the ‘‘ great power of God.’’ His experience of salvation
inspired him with ardent desires for the welfare of others, and he
began with strong crying and tears to warn sinners to flee from
the wrath to come. Impressed by his earnestness the people
heeded the claims of religion, and a revival, subjecting all classes
to its power, was the immediate result. Night and day he la-
bored among them, bringing all the stalwart strength of his
character to bear upon his work. In private houses, in school-
houses, in the rude churches of the country, his powerful voice
was heard constantly warning sinners and instructing penitents,
until the evidence was clear to all that God had called him to
preach the gospel; and at the session of the Philadelphia Con-
ference held in 1834 he was regularly commissioned for the work.
For a short time he remained in that section which is now termed
the ‘‘ border country,’’ but when the Conference to which he be-
longed divided into that of Philadelphia and New Jersey, he chose
the latter, and in 1835 was appointed to New Providence Cir-
cuit, which at that time covered the territory which is now di-
376 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

vided into several circuits and stations. At the close of his term
in this charge he was assigned to Plainfield, where, as usual, he
labored abundantly. During the term of his appointment here
he was united in marriage with Miss Rachel Egbert, of Morris-
town, a lady every way qualified to assist him in the great work
he had undertaken, and who cheerfully made all the sacrifices
which were then so fully required in the itinerancy. Her cheer-
ful faith upheld the heart of her husband, and her attention to
domestic duties relieved him from their care.

He relied largely upon her judgment ; and when passing into
eternity, summed up his estimate of her character by saying to
the writer, ‘‘She has been a good wife to me—a good wife to me.
I do not know what I could have done without her.’’ Even
with the lips of death her husband spoke forth her praise.

A fair amount of spiritual success attended his labors in this
place, when he was removed to Flanders Circuit, at that time
comprehending a large part of Warren County. Here he la-
bored faithfully and zealously, and the Lord’s work prospered
in his hands. His next removal was to Kingwood, where
in labors abundant he still pursued his unflagging course, and
won souls to God. Afterward we find his name connected with
Newton, the county town of Sussex County, where he preached
acceptably the gospel of the kingdom. Next he was stationed
at Hope, where the usual success attended his labors, which ap-
pointment was succeeded by Flemington, and that again by As-
bury, where it pleased God to grant him the largest revival of
religion which occurred during all his ministry. The power of
God was with him, and large numbers of strong men and
thoughtful women gave their hearts to God, producing almost
an entire revolution in the Methodistic status of the whole com-
munity. At the close of his labors here he was appointed to
New Germantown, where he spent the usual term of’ ministerial
labor, after which he was sent to Parsippany, where for two
years more he preached the word. Here his health began to
fail. Long, earnest preaching—cold, damp rides home in the
winter nights after protracted meetings, began to tell even upon
his iron constitution, and at the close of his labors there he was
assigned to the ‘‘ River Church,” in the hope that a lighter ap-
EDWARD SANDERS. 37T

pointment might recuperate his impaired health. But the dis-
ease had gone too far to be arrested, and at the next Conference
a supernumerary position was deemed indispensable. Now came
the trying hour of his life. He. was broken down with labor in
the prime of manhood, with a numerous family who, from their
tender years, were yet incapable of battling with the world, and
the probability of a long future in which he would be unable to
add anything to his resources. But his trust was in God, and
he bore the trial bravely. He selected Pennington as a place of
permanent residence, where year after year he lived and suf-
fered, becoming feebler as time kept passing, till the fall of 1859,
when it became evident that his days were numbered, and that
the emaciated form which had appeared so regularly in the
streets of the village would soon be at rest forever. He was now
confined to hisroom. The long years of wasting disease had
done their work upon the highly irritable nervous system of a
powerfully organized frame, and his physical sufferings were
consequently intense. His worldly circumstances were in an un-
favorable condition. His eldest son, a young man of brilliant
promise, was rapidly sinking into a consumptive’s grave, and sey-
eral young and helpless children were to be left when most they
needed a father’s care. All these dark shadows kept closing
round him as he went down into the valley of death. But his
faith never wavered, and his heart never failed. He calmly con-
templated and discussed these prospects, and, in view of them
all, exclaimed, ‘‘ My feet are on the rock. I cannot be moved.
I can trust everything to God.”’ At one time, after passing a
sleepless night, he said to the writer, ‘‘I have had a blessed
time—my soul has been full of the praises of the Lord all the
night long;’’ and again, just before his departure, ‘‘I am quite
cut loose and am perfectly free from everything on earth; wife
and children are given up to God, and I am fully ready to de-
part.”’ Some time before, he had expressed his inability to un-
derstand the plan of Providence in leaving him so long upon the
carth without the power to labor. ‘‘ But,’ said he, ‘‘I can see
it all now, and understand how God has left me so long to suf-
fering and uselessness. My character needed perfecting through
suffering, so that I cvuld be capable of something better in the
378 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

world to come.’ When the last struggle came, and his pastor
was kneeling by his side in prayer, he held him by the hand
while he prayed, and kept assuring those around him that all
was peace in his soul, till on the last day of 1859, he gently passed
away. He was buried from the church where he so long wor-
shiped; and though the day was one of intense cold, yet the
niass of the people were there to testify their respect and love.
He had selected Revs. J. Winner and R. W. Petherbridge to
preach at his funeral, but the one was absent, and the other ill,
and the sermon was preached by the writer, after which his re-
mains were deposited in the old grave-yard of the Methodist
church at Pennington. The subjoined sketch of his character is
from the pen of his friend and colleague, Rev. G. R. Snyder, and
will appropriately close this memoir.

‘“He wasa man of magisterial bearing, though possessing
unusually humble views of himself. His delicacy, nice sense of
honor, strict scrupulousness, enlarged benevolence, together with
his high-toned moral feelings, led him to set the standard of
moral and religious conduct so high as to give a lofty appearance
to all his movements. And this standard, in his view was the true
one for all, while the simplicity and unsuspiciousness of his
character. together with the lack of a ready insight into human
nature disqualified him to make those allowances which the
marked differences between men demand. If to this is added
his instinctive contempt for everything mean and vulgar it will
not be surprising that his strictures were often sarcastic and
severe, and were perhaps the cause of whatever ripples marred .
the peace of his ministerial career. As a preacher, he was
of more than medium ability. The current of his thoughts
naturally flowed in speculative channels, and even in conversa-
tion he delighted to discuss theories, and trace them to their
logical conclusions. Had he bent his mind to purely intellectual
exercises, and from early life accustomed himself to penning
down his thoughts, he would have made one of the giants of our
theological literature. But he was so diffident of his power to
write, that he could only be induced to make the most meager
preparations for the pulpit, from which alone he generally ex-
cluded those speculative processes in which his mind so much
EDWARD SANDERS. 3879

delighted. While there his aim seemed to be to reprove sin,
correct irregularities, stimulate to Christian faithfulness. and
help men to heaven. He was cheerful and pleasant in social in-
tercourse, and in his private friendships, formed attachments that
could only be alienated by the clearest acts of perfidy. But
once alienated, his aversions were strong and decided, and he
lacked all patience with those who had proved themselves un-
worthy of his confidence.

His religious exercises were often very severe. At times he
was inclined to despondency, and the question, Am I to blame?
often perplexed him, and he would carry it into his closet with
earnest pleadingsfor light. He would sometimes almost be
driven to locate, and abandon his ministry. But the conscious
integrity of his motives sustained him, and the answers of God
to his soul would send him on his way rejoicing. He could do
anything for the good of the cause of God, but neither men nor
devils could drive him from what he saw to be hisduty. He did
not allow enough for the possibilities of mistake, yet it was im-
possible not to honor his unflinching devotion to his belief. His
communion with God was so clear, that more than ordinary re-
ligious enjoyments sometimes fell to his lot, and those who
knew him best, knew best both his moral worth and the
power of his religion, and had the fullest confidence in the
motives which actuated his life.
380 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

REY. THOMAS M‘CARROLL.

Tuomas M‘Carrou was born of Scotch parentage, August
12th, 1800, near West Chester, Chester Co., Pa.

The only son in a family of nine children, his parents aged
and infirm, and mainly dependent upon his care and exertions
for their comfort, he was early in life obliged to assume respon-
sibilities requiring much self-reliance, as well as self-denial. To
this exigency much, doubtless, was due toward developing that
thoughtfulness and gravity which pertained to his manners, and
which, in his maturer years, rendered him a wise counselor and
prudent minister of Christ. It was during these years of labor
and anxiety he laid the foundation of his education. Business
hours being over, he would turn his attention to his studies, pro-
longing them far into the night, with but little assistance from
friend or teacher. His thirst for learning was always a control-
ling passion of his life. No difficulties were so great as to dis-
courage him ; no disheartening circumstances repressed his ardor
in the pursuit of knowledge. In his determination to acquire a
critical acquaintance with the best authors of his own language,
he very early in life learned to deny himself of many comforts,
in order to purchase such books as were not obtainable from
friends or acquaintances.

When about sixteen years of age, he was thrown into the
society of men of skeptical principles, and through their influence
and the perusal of infidel works, imbibed some of their perni-
cious opinions. The bright example and pious teachings of
Christian parents, however, exerted a moral power too strong to
enable him to avcept without grave doubts, their fallacious argu-
ments. Still, the influence of his infidel associates, and the
specious arguments against the truths of revealed religion thus
presented to his mind, yet susceptible to new and peculiar views,
THOMAS M‘CARROLL. 3881

produced, to a considerable extent, their legitimate fruit. In
after years he trembled, when reviewing the dangerous ground
upon which he had well nigh been ruined. Referring to this
period of his life, he would say, ‘‘ There was a something in my
father’s life speaking so strongly in favor of the truths of Chris-
tianity, that I could not rest entirely satisfied with my op-
posing views.’’

In the year 1819, while in this state of mind, he with several
of his young companions, concluded to attend a Methodist meet-
ing, at the Washington school-house, Chester Circuit, at which
Rev. Mr. Price, M. D., was expected to preach. They had ar-
ranged, in a spirit of mischief, to disturb, and if possible, to
break up the meeting. Accordingly, it was planned that young
M‘Carroll should stand directly in front of the preacher, and
without removing his hat, stare him in the face, until some con-
fusion should thereby occur in the congregation, when the rest
of the party were to rush forward, seize the preacher, and carry
him out of the house. On the night of the meeting a deep
snow had fallen, which prevented the attendance of Dy. Price,
and the services were conducted by Rev. Alban Hooke.

The young men were present, and still fully determined to
carry their anticipated sport into execution, and the subject of
this memoir stationed himself immediately in front of the
preacher’s stand.

Rising to preach, Mr. Hooke announced his text, ‘‘ Thou
fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee.’’ With the
power and unction of Divine truth the preacher portrayed the
perilous condition of the sinner; the awful character of the
‘fool, who saith in his heart there is no God,” and his
fearful end. Soon, a strange feeling came over the thought-
less boy’s heart. His hat was seen hanging by his side. The
solemn truths as they fell from the lips of the man of God
roused him to a sense of his lost condition as one awakened
from a sleep, and he began to feel that God was dealing
with him as a child of wrath. His emotion was not easily
controlled. With bowed head and alarm rising in his soul, he
felt as never before that he was a sinner in the sight of God, ex-
posed to danger and eternal death. The sermon ended, and
382 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

without waiting for his companions, he hastened home, fell upon
his knees in prayer for mercy and forgiveness. For some months
he continued in great distress of mind. Certain Calvinistic views
with reference to election troubled him, and for a long while he
was unable to resist the impression that he was not included in
the covenant of grace. Earnestly he struggled for deliverance,
and nights were passed in prayer, but still he could obtain no
sense of pardoned sin. The heavens seemed as brass, and he
felt as if God had left him. He now gave way to discourage-
ment, and for a time discontinued his efforts to seek the Lord.
He went one Sabbath to an acquaintance, and told him the state
of his mind. ‘‘ Well,” said his friend, ‘‘ Brother Hooke will
preach to-day at Washington school-house; let us go and hear
him.’’ ‘‘ No,’’ he replied, ‘‘ I feel that I am not of the chosen
ones. I believe, now, the doctrine of Calvin is true, that God
saves his own elect, and the rest must be lost,’’ and quoted these
words, ‘‘ Many are called but few chosen.’’ After much en-
treaty he consented to attend the meeting.

To his astonishment, Brother Hooke who had been greatly
troubled about a text and subject for the occasion, selected the
words quoted by him that morning, in support of the doctrine
of a limited atonement: ‘‘ Many are called, but few chosen.”’

In its discussion, the preacher was led to make frequent use
of the fifth chapter of Romans, and dwelt particularly upon the
nineteenth verse, viz., ‘‘ For as by one man’s disobedience many
were made sinners, so by the obedience of one shall many be
made righteous.’’

Light and hope broke in upon his mind, and he at once re-
sumed his efforts to obtain religion.

Shortly after, he attended a camp-meeting near Chester,
Delaware Co., Pa., and there, amid the out-pouring of the Spirit
of God, after wrestling like Jacob of old, through the darkness
of the night, the day dawned, the shadows fled: by faith he was
enabled to see Him who was pierced, and with tears of joy
coursing down his face exclaimed,

“T know thee, Saviour, who thou art,
Jesus, the feeble sinner’s friend;

Nor wilt thou with the night depart,

But stay and love me to the end.”
THOMAS M‘CARROLL. 383

His conversion was clear, and the work of grace abiding, as
his after life gave evidence. It was said by one of his quaker
neighbors, ‘‘That he could perceive a change in young M‘Car-
roll as far as he could see him.”’

Two weeks after his conversion, in 1819, he was received into
the church, by Rev. Alban Hooke. The love he entertained for
Brother Hooke, his spiritual father, cannot be expressed, and
after forty years of life’s toils and experiences, his heart beat as
warmly at the mention of his name as when in youth they re-
joiced together in the service of their Lord.

Soon after his connection with the Church he was placed in
charge of a class at Laurel Church, which stood near the West-
ern branch of the Brandywine river. In 1823 the Rev. Thomas
Miller gave him license to exhort. In 1825 he was united in
marriage to Miss Mary Ann Bruce of Guthrieville, Pa., a lady,
whose piety and pleasing manners, associated with more than
ordinary strength of mind, not only rendered his domestic life
one of peculiar happiness, but conduced greatly to his useful-
ness as a minister. At the Quarterly Conference of 1825 he re-
ceived license to preach, the saintly Joseph Lybrand being in
the chair, and the Rev. Henry Boehm, now of the Newark Con-
ference, preacher in charge of Chester Circuit. At the Quar-
terly Conference held in the spring of 1829 he was recommended
to the Philadelphia Conference, and by that body received into
the traveling connection, from which time he continued to labor
as an effective itinerant preacher, uninterruptedly, for thirty-one
years.

The following are the charges occupied by him during this
period :—

‘Stroudsburg Circuit, one year; Chester Circuit, one year;
Port Deposit, Md., two years; St. George’s, Philadelphia, two
years. The New Jersey Conference being formed in the spring
of 1837, he was then transferred, and labored successively at Com-
merce street, Bridgeton, Franklin street, Newark, South Street,
Salem, Pemberton, Morristown, Franklin street, Newark, again,
and Elizabeth, in each of which appointments he continued two
years. His next charge was Plainfield; from thence, at the end
of one year, he was removed to fill the office of Presiding Elder
884 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

on the Newark District. After four years he was transferred to
the Paterson District, and there continued until April, 1860,
when he received his appointment to East Newark, where,
almost literally, ‘‘ he ceased to work and live.’’ Besides these
positions of honor and trust, he was elected a delegate to the
General Conference in the spring of 1852, and performed his
duties faithfully as a member of that body. Brother M‘Carroll
was a diligent student, and this remark applies to the later as
well as the earlier years of his ministry. He thus became
thoroughly versed in the theology of our Church, and acquired
a very considerable knowledge of the languages in which the
Holy Scriptures were originally written. To the close of life it
afforded him the highest pleasure to read and study the word of
God in these languages. He was an excellent preacher. But
this statement can be appreciated fully only by those who sat
statedly under his ministry. His diffidence almost always pre-
vented the full exhibition of his pulpit power on special occa-
sions; but in the stated ministrations of the pastorate he not
unfrequently proved himself to be ‘‘an eloquent man and
mighty in the Scriptures.’ He possessed a nature of great
kindness. In fact, he was sometimes gentle and forbearing to a
fault. He loved his brethren of the ministry as he loved no
other class of men on earth, and to all of them, old and young,
he was uniformly kind. This sanctified and sanctifying element
of his character, wherever he went, was as precious “‘ ointment
poured forth.” :

His devotion to the Church of his choice was intense. From
his admission as a probationer to the last hours of his life, his
prayers were offered in her behalf, his labors and sacrifices were
for her prosperity and welfare. As an instance of his conscien-
tious sense of duty in this respect, it may be stated that when
preparing for the ministry, in the early period of his life, urgent
and repeated offers of a free collegiate education were extended
him by a sister denomination upon the condition of his uniting
with them in Church fellowship. His love for learning, and the
knowledge that such an opportunity for acquiring a systematic
mental training would probably never again occur, rendered his
rejection of this proffered kindness a sacrifice of no little im-
portance.
THOMAS M‘CARROLL. 885

Few preachers ever expericnced deeper anxiety for the wel-
fare of the Church in all her relations. He was a man of great
sensitiveness, and this led him to feel acutely whatever in the
‘discharge of his ministerial duty was necessarily afflictive. As
Presiding Hider, he was greatly distressed when he knew a
brother was grieved with his appointment, or felt that his claims
had failed to receive the attention they deserved. With men
of sterner mould, much that was a source of deep anxiety and
mental solicitude to him, would have been regarded as matters
comparatively trivial and productive of no disquietude.

In the performance of his regular pastoral labors he was influ-
enced by a solemn conviction of duty and accountability to God.
Whether in his ministerial efforts in the pulpit, or when pointing
the penitent ‘‘ to the Lamb that was slain,’’ or whether encour-
aging the faltering or chiding the erring, he never forgot the se-
rious responsibilities of his position as a minister of the word.

An instance of his moral heroism is related in reference to this
feature of his character that may appropriately be mentioned.

While pastor of a church in one of the large towns in New
Jersey much alarm was created in the minds of the people by the
prevalence of the small-pox, which began to assume the charac-
ter of an epidemic. One night a messenger called at his house,
informing him that a poor woman in the neighborhood was dy-
ing with the fatal disease, and was earnestly desirous to see a
minister. She had neglected the interests of her soul, and now
on the threshold of eternity was unprepared to meet her Maker.
The messenger observed, that he had called upon two or three
other clergymen, but they could not feel, under the circumstances,
that duty required them to go.

After a moment’s reflection, he replied, ‘‘I will go,’’ and at
once started on his errand of mercy. Two hours he remained by
the bedside of the dying woman, telling her of Jesus who suf-
fered and died for the world’s guilt.

When remonstrated with by his family, who were exceedingly
fearful of the consequences, he exclaimed, ‘‘I felt it my duty;
had I shrunk from it I fear I could not die calmly; let us trust
in God.”

During the first years of his itinerancy his style of preaching

25
386 | NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

was florid, but in after life he possessed those more sterling qual-
ifications which gave him a high position in the ministry of his
Church. In the regular labors of the pulpit he was always clear,
forcible, and interesting, bringing to his subject the products of
a mind well stored with biblical knowledge, acquired by constant
study of the Scriptures in their original languages. Wherever
in the providence of God he was called to labor he was success-
ful in winning souls to Christ, and in building up the believer in
the truths of the gospel. In very many instances his Master
owned and blessed his efforts to a remarkable degree. Many
who are at the present day in the ministry of the Methodist
Episcopal Church—noble servants in the cause of the Redeemer
—were brought into the fold through his instrumentality.

The last sermon he ever preached was from the text, ‘‘ In the
last day, that great day of the feast, Jesus stood and cried, say-
ing, If any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink.” It
was more than usually impressive, and will long be remembered
by those who were privileged to hear it.

A natural diffidence often prevented the display of his gifts as
an extemporaneous speaker. Seldom could he overcome this
constitutional peculiarity so far as to enable him to manifest his
full powers with perfect freedom.

There were times, however, when his feelings more than usu-
ally controlled by the interest or importance of the occasion, or
when discussing a subject in which the powers of his mind were
fully engrossed, he would rise superior to every influence, and
exhibit a latent power of eloquence which, if more frequently
exercised, would have placed him in the first rank of platform
speakers.

Tn his intercourse with the world he was always the courteous
Christian gentleman. Possessing the gentleness of a woman,
with the dignity inseparably connected with the character of a
Christian minister, he gained the respect and confidence of all
with whom he associated. The only brother of eight sisters,
brought up to manhood subject to the kind and softening im-
pressions of woman’s influence, it is not strange that his whole
life and character were to an unusual degree moulded in con-
formity with his earliest associations.
THOMAS M‘CARROLL. . 387

As husband and father he was an example of what the sancti-
fying influences of grace operating upon a nature abounding in
kindness can effect. He was the idol of his children, and though
governing by affection, he did not the less succeed in securing
their obedience to his will. Living, he exemplified to them the
doctrines he had preached so many years: dying, he gave them
a glorious evidence of his title to a home in heaven.

The disease of which Brother M‘Carroll died—congestion of
the lungs—attacked him suddenly and with great violence.
But he suffered patiently, and even joyfully. On the Sabbath
of his illness he said to one of the lay brethren whom he had
long known, ‘‘I want you to say to my ministerial brethren and
the church, that I die in the faith of the atonement, and in full
belief of the doctrines of the M. E. Church as taught by Wesley,
and which I have tried to preach, for over thirty years.” Soon
after, calling his youngest son to him, he said, ‘‘ Be a good boy,
and take the counsel of your mother and Christian friends, and
the Lord will take care of you. It is a great mercy to me that
the Lord has called you into the kingdom of his grace before I
die.’’ Then addressing his only daughter, he said, ‘‘ I have con-
secrated you to the Lord from your childhood.’’ She said, ‘‘I
cannot give you up ;’’ when he replied, ‘‘ Religion requires it.’’
The next day it was said to him, ‘‘ You are very sick, but I trust
you feel all is well.’’ He replied, ‘‘I feel that all will be well.
Many years ago God awakened me, and when I sought him by
faith in Christ Jesus, he forgave me all my sins, removed my
guilt, received me into his gracious favor, and gave me his
Divine and Holy Spirit to witness my adoption into his family.
And I am fully assured that the blood of Jesus is able to cleanse
from all the remains of sin. For several years I have been seek-
ing this great blessing, at times with a good degree of success.’’
On Tuesday afternoon he said, ‘‘I am not ashamed nor afraid to
trust in Jesus. I have said this for many years, and I say it
still.’’

The same day, he inquired of his physician whether he thought
there was any probability of his recovery. The doctor replied,
““Mr. M‘Carroll, you have in the discharge of your duty, always
been frank with me, and I feel I should now be equally so, with
388 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

you; thére isnohope.”’ ‘‘ Well,” responded the dying man, ‘“‘T
am entirely resigned to the will of God.”” As night drew near—
the last he spent on earth—he remarked, ‘‘If it is God’s will
that I should die, I would rather die to-night ;’’ and then added,
‘* For a number of years I have not had the slightest doubt as
to the firmness of the foundation, on which I stand. My faith has
long been settled, confirmed, and fixed.’’ A short time after
one of the preachers present quoted the passage: ‘‘ And they
shall come from the east and from the west,’’ etc. After a pause
he said, ‘‘I am fully persuaded that Christianity in its essential
principles is able to take the soul to heaven.”’

A few hours before he breathed his last, his son stood by his
bedside weeping. Seeing his distress, the father said, ‘‘ Don’t
weep, Thomas, it is all right, all right, I shall soon be with the
Saviour, don’t forget me, but try to meet me in heaven.”’

To his wife he said, ‘‘ Don’t weep, Mary, it won't be long be-
fore we shall meet again.”’

Bidding farewell to all his children, he said, ‘‘ Be good, be
kind to your mother, I shall always be near you.”’

These and kindred expressions, many of them noted as they
dropped from his lips, evinced the power of grace to sustain him
in his sickness and death even more abundantly than it had done
during his long and varied life. His faith, always steady, be-
came bold and heroic in the final conflict. Thus lived and thus
died on the 9th of May, 1860, in the sixtieth year of his age, a
great and good man in our spiritual Israel, leaving to his wife,
to his children, and to the church the rich legacy of a holy exam-
ple, a useful life, and a victorious death.
THOMAS W. PEARSON. 389

REV, THOMAS W. PEARSON.*

THomas W. Prarson, was born in Hull, England, Dee. 8th,
1804. He came to this country when eleven years of age, but at
what precise period he gave his heart to God, his family or the
church have no means of knowing.

He was licensed as an exhorter at seventeen, and traveled
under the Presiding Elder in the Baltimore Conference. In the
secession of 1825, when Francis Waters and others left the M.
E. Church, Brother Pearson was among the number.

He occupied a prominent position in the Methodist Prot-
estant Conference, for several years, and was once its Presi-
dent. He was stationed successively in some of their most
prominent appointments, among which were Philadelphia,
Newark, New York, and Albany. From this last charge he re-
joined the M. E. Church, was admitted into the Troy Confer-
ence, and received successively, the following appointments ;
Gloversville, two years; Esperance and Fonda, each one year ;
Burlington, Vt., Middlebury, Vt., North Adams, Mass., and
West Troy, each two years; and Castleton, Vt., one year.

While at Castleton, his youngest son sickened, and his physi-
cian prescribing sea air and bathing, Brother Pearson was trans-
ferred to the New Jersey Conference, and stationed at Asbury,
Staten Island. Here his son died and was buried. With him
lies also the Rev. T. B. Pearson, the eldest son, and now like-
wise the father. It is a retired and charming spot, and side by
side they shall sleep sweetly until the morning of the resurrec-
tion. His appointments in the New Jersey and Newark Con-
ferences were, Asbury and Trinity, Staten Island, each two
years; Asbury again, two years, and New Providence, which was
his last.

* Originally published in the Newark Conference Minutes.
390 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

Brother Pearson was a good scholar, a clear thinker, an excel-
lent pastor, a superior preacher, a firm friend, a devoted father,
and loving husband.

At his first appointment, Gloversville, Troy Conference, he'en-
joyed a most gracious outpouring of the Spirit. Hundreds were
converted, and among the rest, Rev. George W. Carpenter,
for some years a prominent minister in the Providence Conference.

Rey. Stephen H. Parks, of the Troy Conference, was also con-
verted under his ministry.

When appointed to the Fonda Mission, he found but one
member of the church, and that one a female. He left the
mission at the end of one year, with one hundred members. At
North Adams, three hundred were converted during his two
years’ stay among them.

The Christian experience of Brother Pearson was singularly
uniform. He was constitutionally inclined to look on the dark
side of things. The clouds, however, were never so dark, but
they contained the silver lining which Christ’s presence reflected ;
and however fatigued or way-worn, however distracted with care
and anxiety, when Christ’s name was mentioned, or his wor-
ship approached, it was always with a reverential delight. He
entered upon the duties of his last charge with unusual interest
and efficiency. Indeed all his exercises at New Providence were
attended with a peculiar unction, and seemed like the works of
one rapidly ripening for the skies.

Among the last texts from which he preached, was, ‘‘ Blessed
are they that do his commandments, that they may have right
to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates, into
the city.’’ Rev. xxii. 14. Especially did he dwell upon the city
of God, the abiding place of them that do his commandments,
with peculiar unction and fervor, until the people wept and
praised God with joyful hearts.

He had always desired, if it might please the Master, that he
might cease at once to work and live. And this desire was fully
gratified. The Sabbath but one previous to his death he
preached three times. The next Tuesday he was confined to
his bed. On the following Monday, his physician had just ex-
pressed hopes of his recovery, but he said, ‘‘ No, I shall not re-
THOMAS W. PEARSON. 391

cover ;”’ then turning suddenly to his wife, who stood at his bed-
side, he grasped her hand, exclaiming, ‘“‘It is all over, my
dear ;”’ and thus, on the 28th of May, 1860, expired this holy
man of God.

He died as he lived, at his post. And if to toil well is to rest
well, he rests well from his labors, and his works do follow him.
His wife and daughter remain to the care of the church he
served so well.

The funeral services were held at the church on the following
Wednesday, attended by a crowded assembly of weeping friends,
With a number of the members of the Conference to which he
belonged. On Thursday the remains were taken to Staten
Island, where another weeping assembly awaited the sad rites of
burial.

_ «Thus star by star declines,
Till all are passed away,
As morning high and higher shines,
To pure, and perfect day ;
Nor sink those stars in empty night,
They hide themselves in heaven’s own light.”
392 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

REV. DAYTON F. REED

“T saw this man, armed simply with God’s word,
Enter the souls of many fellow-men,
And pierce them sharply as a two-edged sword,
While conscience echved back his words again ;
Till, even as showers of fertilizing rain
Sink through the bosom of the valley clod,
So their hearts opened to the wholesome pain,
And hundreds knelt upon the flowery sod,
One good man’s earnest prayer, the link ’twixt them and God.”

THE annals of Methodism contain few worthier names than
Dayton F. Reed. He was born in the town of Simsbury, Con-
necticut, on the 16th day of March, 1817.

When about four years of age, his parents removed to Her-
rick, Bradford County, Pa., where he remained until twelve
years old, after which he lived in Brooklyn, N. Y., until the
year 1837.

He then returned to Pennsylvania, and on the evening of his
twentieth birth-day, attended a prayer-meeting under the care
of Brother E. Owen, now a member of the Wyoming Confer-
ence. Young Reed went to the meeti@g wild and thoughtless,
and, as he afterwards confessed, for amusement alone. But
while listening to the exhortation, he was so powerfully awak-
ened, that at its close he arose, confessed his need of Christ, and,
with charactéristic frankness, said, ‘‘ Pray for me, but do not be
too sanguine in your hopes, for I may never be converted. I
am very proud, and apt to think I know more than others. I
came here with such feelings, and I feel pride in my heart while
Iam speaking. Pray for me, and I will try to pray for myself.”’
After seeking Christ for many days, and being brought to the
borders of despair, his soul obtained deliverance.
DAYTON F. REED. 393

He straightway commenced laboring with zeal and carnestness
for the salvation of others. He felt he had a work to do, and
engaged in it as one who had no time to lose. This work hence-
forth became the chief business, the all-absorbing passion of his
life. In school-houses, in barns, in workshops, by the wayside,
and at the corners of the streets, in any place where sinners
could be found, the voice of the young disciple was heard calling
them to repentance. After laboring thus for a while, he re-
ceived license to exhort, and shortly after, in April, 1839, was
licensed to preach.

Having now the sanction of the Church, he went forth with
an intenser zeal, upon wings almost like the wind, in his high
and holy work. A few weeks after receiving his authority to
preach, we find him out in the State of New York, laboring like
one who felt that an immortal soul was of more value than ten
thousand worlds.

The following life-like and touching sketch of his manner, and
the power which he exercised in such a remarkable degree, when
only twenty-two years of age, and but two months in the minis-
try, is from the eloquent pen of the Rev. Joseph Cross, of Ten-
nessee. /

‘Tn 1839 I was stationed in Ithaca, N. Y. One Wednesday
morning in June, a young man in coarse shoes, threadbare coat,
and superannuated straw hat, called at my study, and said:
‘My name is Dayton F. Reed; I am a local preacher; here is
my license; will you let me preach to-night?’ His very youth-
ful appearance, together with the abruptness of the introduction,
made me hesitate. Desiring him to be seated, I questioned him
as to his whence, his whither, and his wherefore. The child-
like simplicity of his conversation, and the great humility of his
spirit, soon won my heart: and if he had asked me for my eyes,
I could scarcely have denied him. But how to publish an ap-
pointment, how to get the congregation—that was the question.
‘Leave that to me,’ said he; ‘I’ll certainly have the church
full if you’ll allow me to take my own course; don’t be dis-
pleased if it’s a little uncommon.’ ‘ Very well,’ said I. And
away he sprang as if impressed with the conviction that his Mas-
ter’s business required haste. Half an hour elapsed, when the
B94 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

sound of a horn drew me to the window. There, to my great
mortification, was my new acquaintance on horse-back, riding
slowly along the crowded street, alternately blowing a tin trum-
pet, and pausing to harangue the wondering multitude. Arriv-
ing at the corner, he delivered an exhortation of about ten min-
utes, which he finished with the announcement that he would
preach at seven o'clock in the Methodist Church ; then galloped
to another street, where he repeated the performance ; and so
went throughout the town, tooting, exhorting, and publishing
his appointment for the evening.

“Dinner over, he spent about half an hour upon his knees in
my study, and then went again into the street. Walking out
soon after, I found him upon a box at the corner preaching to
about two hundred people. The discourse abounded with bril-
liant wit, pungent satire, quaint remarks, beautiful sentences,
and pathetic appeals. It was over in less than twenty minutes.
Then he exhibited his old saddle to his hearers, and told them
he wanted to buy a new one; it would cost ten dollars, three of
which he had in his pocket. ‘Take your hat and go round,’
cried a voice in the crowd. He picked up his straw roof, upon
the torn rim of which he had been standing to keep it from
being blown away by the wind, and passed to and fro among the
people. ‘Now throw in, boys,’ cried one. ‘Yes, throw in,
all of you,’ shouted another, ‘and buy the man a saddle; you
don’t hear such preaching as that three Sundays in a year.’
Very freely went the change into the old straw hat. Not half
had contributed, when the preacher, shaking it up, perceived
that he had more than seven dollars, and returned to his box,
refusing to take another cent, though several urged him. He
knelt down, offered a short but fervent prayer, repeated his ap-
pointment for the evening, and rode rapidly away. Ina few
minutes he was preaching to another company in another part
of the town. And so he went on till sunset, delivering not less
than seven or eight short discourses during the afternoon; and
true, indeed it was, that the people did ‘not hear such preach-
ing as that three Sundays ina year.’

‘*Seven o’clock came, and the church was thronged, and many
failed to effect an entrance. All classes were there, young and
DAYTON F. REED. 895

old, rich ana poor, flaunting belles and rustic laborers. My
young friend knelt full fifteen minutes in silent prayer, during
which his soul seemed to bein anagony. He arose and read his
hymn in a tone of unaffected modesty, and with such a tremor in his
boyish voice, that I could not help feeling a deep concern for his
success. The singing over, he knelt, buried his face in his
hands upon the pulpit cushion, and almost sobbed out one of the
most touching prayers I had ever heard. He began by asking
for Divine aid to preach to ‘‘ sucha crowd of gay and fashionable
people.’’ He was like a timid child, earnestly imploring his
father to stand by him in an hour of danger. Before he finished,
I believe he had the sympathy of every heart in the audience,
and many were dissolved in tears. He announced his text: ‘ It
is appointed unto men once to die, but after that the judgment.’
Every eye was fixed, and every ear was open. Seldom had they
listened to so solemn and earnest a warning. And never, per-
haps, save three times in my life, have I witnessed a more pro-
found impression under the preaching of the word.

‘“The next day he preached ten or twelve short sermons in the
streets, and at night again occupied the pulpit. The crowd was
greater than before, and the discourse was of a very different
character. It was addressed especially to the young, and the
manner in which he described the follies of fashionable life, and
exposed the common sophistries of sinners, the delusions of the
devil, and the perils of procrastination was equally inimitable
and irresistible. His rapid sketches of character, and brilliant
sallies of wit, mingled with histrionic passages of uncommon
power, and occasional touches of the pathetic, made everybody
laugh and weep by turns. The morning following he went on
his way, I know not whither; but the impression left upon my
own mind, and I believe upon all, was, that ‘a holy man of
God’ had been among us.

‘*TIn July, 1840, he spent some days with me at Binghampton,
and attended our camp-meeting. It was not far from town, and
multitudes of young people went out with no other motive than
that of hearing him preach. His first sermon was from the
text: ‘What went ye out into the wilderness to see? a reed
shaken by the wind?’ Toward the close of the discourse, he
of

396 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

described the sinner as dying, and ‘spinning down into hell;’
at the same time leaning over the pulpit, pointing downward
with the index finger, with a rapid horizontal revolution of the
hand; and so vivid was the picture, that many rose up and bent
forward to see the accursed soul, as

‘Quick and more quick he spins in giddy gyres’

into the everlasting night! Iwas forcibly reminded of this in
the first sermon I heard from Mr. Spurgeon; when he drew the
procrastinator to the verge of life, trembling, and clinging to his
failing hopes, cried, ‘ Hands off!’ then pointed after him as he
fell !’’

Perhaps the annals of the pulpit nowhere present evidence of
equal power attained at so early a period of ministerial life. Nor
were these successes confined to Ithaca and Binghampton. Im-
mediately on leaving the camp-ground and rural districts, we
find him in the great city of New York, where he labored inces-
santly until December, 1840. It was now about fifteen months
since he was first authorized to preach, and yet so simple and
artless was his manner, so increasingly quaint and original his
style, so convincing and irresistible his appeals, now causing the
people to smile at their folly, and then producing overwhelming
consternation, as they saw themselves whirled by that folly to
the crumbling verge of ruin, that, melted in penitential sorrow,
they fled to the cross in teeming multitudes. Hundreds in a
single church oftentimes professed conversion chiefly through
his instrumentality.

The houses were always crowded when he preached. He
would have the people. Bar-rooms, beer saloons, oyster cellars,
work-shops, every locality where a sinner could be found, was
visited, and after a word or two about their souls, he would in-
form them who he was, that he was laboring at such a church,
and then kindly say to his amazed auditors, ‘‘ Come and hear me
preach to-night.”

The whole transaction was so natural to him, so evidently
sincere, and withal, so uncommon, that crowds always flocked
to hear him, and many,

“Who came to scoff, remained to pray.”
DAYTON F. REED. 397

His zeal knew no bounds, and his powers of invention, always
fruitful, were taxed to the utmost, to bring all within the sound
of the gospel. Not satisfied with his personal visits to those
found in shops, cellars, taverns and stores, he sometimes pla-
carded himself in large capitals, thus,

PROVIDENCE PERMITTING,
DAYTON F. REED

will preach to-night in the Methodist church.
COME AND HEAR.

Then with this huge card fastened to a staff five or six feet
long, swung across his shoulder, he would pass for hours, in
meditative mood, up and down the crowded streets of a great
town or city, studying the very sermon that would startle and
convince the people, who were in this novel way invited to
hear him preach. Some thought him crazy, but however
strongly this idea impressed them when they saw him in
the street with his placard on his shoulder, they changed their
minds, when at night they heard from his lips, truths
the most solemn that had ever fallen upon their ears, ac-
companied with an imagination as brilliant as light flashing from
polished diamonds, while it soared to the loftiest summits of the
mountains of God, and dilated on the bliss of eternal saintship,
then, to show the sinner his awful and imminent peril, plunged
to the indescribable depths of unending blackness and darkness,
where the worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched.

Sometimes his satire was so keen and pungent, that men would
get angry, and under the influence of excitement, make harsh
threats of what they would do to the preacher, and vow they
would never hear such a man again. But the threats were sel-
dom executed, and when the time arrived, they were generally
found in the house of God, listening once more to the man,
whom conscience told them, uttered only truth, and whose sincerity
and zeal they could not do otherwise than approve.

His labors in Philadelphia were sometimes followed with re-
markable results. He was connected with Nazareth church as
a Local Preacher, and often occupied the pulpit. There was a
398 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

protracted meeting in progress. Ona certain night the house
was crowded in all its parts, and he was to preach. The close
of his sermon was overwhelmingly convincing and terrifying,
death, judgment, and eternal perdition, with all their awful
scenes stood out before the congregation, as visible realities ;
they almost heard the groans of dying men, and the clang
of the judgment trump, while the countless millions of earth
stood with breathless silence, waiting to hear their doom ; heaven
too, with its harps, and palms, and crowns, and thrones, its end-
less light, and love, and bliss, depended upon the activities of
that passing moment.

The scene which followed was indescribable. Menand women
shrieked for mercy. All over the house they knelt and wept
and prayed, while a hundred and fifty crowded around the altar,
where the pleas for pardon, and the songs of the newly saved
mingled together, like the sound of many waters. That night
will never be forgotten. Many who yielded then will bask in
eternal sunlight, while those who resisted such power, run the
fearful hazards of endless ruin.

But no one place could keep him long. Like his Divine Lord,
he felt called to ‘‘ go about doing good.’ He traveled exten-
sively in Pennsylvania, and through his native Connecticut. The
interior of the state of New York too, was a frequent field of his
labor. We find him at one time at Rochester. As he saw the
multitudes passing to and fro in the streets, they presented to
his mind, not merely so many persons engaged in the pursuit
of business or pleasure, but a vast procession hurrying on to.
death and judgment. His soul sympathized with them, and
he felt he must warn them to flee from the wrath to come.

Mounting a box, or barrel, or any thing that would elevate
him a few feet above the pavement, like John the Baptist, he
cried aloud to the passing multitudes, ‘‘ Repent ye, for the king-
dom of heaven isathand.’’ Crowds stopped to listen. The side-
walks were blockaded, and some, seeing the quiet routine of
every-day business life disturbed, and unwilling to devote a few
moments to the higher interests of the immortal soul, conducted
him to the magistrate who committed him to prison.

But even there, his heart still burned with an unextinguish-
DAYTON F. REED. 399

able love, and climbing to the window, preached through grates
and iron bars, the unsearchable riches of Christ. The crowd
around the prison window was soon greater than it had been
while preaching in the streets, and the authorities, finding, that
while moved with an unconquerable zeal, he was inoffensive and
kind, concluded to release him and let him go.

Tn all these things his sanity has been sometimes questioned.
I shall not attempt to decide the matter, but feel safe in saying,
if he was at any time in the least degree insane, it was of such
a saintly character that it left the world better for its existence.

After ten years of his life had been spent as an evangelist,
years which were abundant in labors, and rich in the ingathered
harvest of immortal souls, he was employed in 1849, by Rev. T.
Sovereign, Presiding Elder of Newark District, as a supply for
Harsimus, in the vicinity of Jersey City. The next year he was
received on trial by the New Jersey Conference, and sent to
Salem Circuit. His subsequent appointments were, in 1851,
Gloucester Circuit ; 1852 and 1853, Financial agent of Pennington
Seminary ; 1854, Stanhope; 1855, Bloomfield ; 1856, Ladies’ City
Mission, Newark ; 1857, Stapleton Mission, StatenIsland. Here
his health failed, and in 1858, he became a supernumerary, re-
maining in that relation to the close of life. In all these fields
he had success in leading souls to Christ, and the church was
strengthened through him, and yet it is doubted whether his
regular ministry in connexion with the conference, equaled in
power, that which he exerted when as an evangelist he went
from place to place, stirring the masses by his able arguments
and startling appeals. Tothat work he seemed especially called,
and for that work he was especially qualified.

Something has been said of his style of preaching, and yet
there has been no special reference to his powers of illustration.
In this, he had few equals, perhaps no superiors. He was a
word-painter. His audience saw his pictures, not pale, cold, life-
less scenes; but living, moving, breathing—full of intense heat.
They were not merely a panorama to admire, they were a power
to be felt. Preaching at one time on, ‘‘Behold I stand at the
door and knock;’’ and referring to the hostility of the human
heart, and its unwillingness to yield to the claims of Jesus, he
400 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

exclaimed, ‘‘See that lordly mansion—how perfect and beautiful
its architectural proportions—how attractive its situation ;—it is
night, and all its rooms are brilliantly illuminated; rich music
sounds from every window—a gay company fills its halls and
chambers—it is a festive scene and hour. But the owner is
without. Approaching, he looks with intense surprise at what
is going on. He tries the door, but it is bolted against him. He
knocks, but the sound of music and dance drown his efforts. He
knocks again,—there is a momentary lull of revelry,—and the
sound is heard. Looking from an upper window, they ask,
‘Who's there?’ ‘The lord of the mansion—let mein.’ ‘Not
now,’ they exclaim, ‘wait till the dance and mirth are over.’
Then the music sounds high, and the dance goes on. Again he
knocks louder and louder still. Once more they answer from
within, ‘Wait, not now, after a little while.’ The music still
sounds out more merrily than ever, and still the knocking con-
tinues louder than before, ‘Let me in, let me in; the night is
dark, and I am weary; haste, oh, let me in to my own house.’
But the answer now is fiercer and more stubborn, ‘Not now—
go away—the house is ours. We will not let you in,’ and deadly
missiles are hurled upon the exiled owner’s head.’’ Then, when
every eye was fixed, and every ear was ready for the application,
he exclaimed with overwhelming power, ‘‘O, sinner, thou art
the man. Your heart is barred against the Saviour; you will
not let him in.’’ His sermons were set with gems and precious
stones, all sparkling with living light.

He was a writer too. In addition to his frequent contributions
to the periodical literature of the church, he published a volume
on enlarged and systematic beneficence, &c., entitled, ‘‘ Duties,
Tests, and Comforts.’ Dr. McClintock, who wrote the intro-
duction, says of it, ‘“The book is animated throughout, by a
burning love to God and for the souls of men; everywhere it is
clear that ‘it is the love of Christ that constraineth’ the pen
of the writer. It is terribly in earnest, and I commend it to the
Christian public, as eminently practical and truthful. It cannot
fail to do good to all that read it attentively; and there is in it a
power of Christian sympathy and earnestness that will command
the reader, unless his heart is utterly out of harmony with the
great laws of God’s kingdom.”’
DAYTON F. REED. 401

The following just and eloquent estimate of his character is
from the pen of Rev. Charles E. Hill, of the New Jersey Con-
ference:

‘In him dwelt no guile. He was one of the most trans-
parently pure souls that ever blessed the world; and he adapted
himself to all parties, not by the accommodation of his princi-
ples, but by his amiable and loving manners. What he seemed
to be, he was. Among the many that I love, and whose memory
I cherish, none have ever entered more thoroughly into my
heart’s best affections than Dayton F. Reed. All that I could
say of him in brief, would be comprehended in the points I shall
mention.

“*He was severely plain in appearance and in language. This
peculiarity was not the result of eccentricity, as many supposed.
He had to be plain in his habits to ive. His was a frail and
delcate organism, and he knew from experience what was best
adapted to sustain it. His preaching was plain, for he preached
to win souls to Christ. Yet at times he would so far transcend
his ordinary style, both in language and figures, as to startle his
hearers.

“ He was free from all worldly ambition and vanity. It seemed
to me, when listening to him, that he knew Christ stood beside
him, and would demand a strict account for every word he
uttered. Hence he reproved sin when some of the most refined
of his hearers practiced it,—he inculcated the forgiveness of mn-
juries when they ridiculed the idea,—he taught great moral
truths which the world was unwilling to believe. He literally
lived without books, (Webster’s Dictionary, the Bible, and Bax-
ter’s Saint’s Rest composed his library) and without instructors;
poor, unpopular, persecuted; and continued such to the end.
Look at him when we will, he evidences the most consistent hu-
mility which no applause could inflate and no reflections dissatisfy.
In him no attempt was seen to display his humility. Through
all his ministry not a word was said to bring it before us as a
mark of his piety. He exposed the faults of his friends; he re-
proved the malice of his enemies; he spoke under all circum-
stances as a man of God, and yet he was humble. After preach-
ing he retired to pray, and never remained to listen to his own

26
402 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

praise. Nothing in him could be construed into a motive of per-
sonal aggrandizement or desire for worldly show.

“He was unusually endowed with intellectual strength. They
were in error who thought him a fool or a madman. His min-
istry throughout, was what we might expect from a great man,
embarked in a great undertaking. Firm without obstinacy,
strict without superstition, and cautious without concealment or
disguise. His ordinary social conversations and his public min-
istrations never failed to convey an irresistible impression of the
greatness and originality of his intellect. Hach word was so full
of meaning, and every action so full of example, that even if we
could question his heart, we are compelled to admit the strength
and comprehensiveness of his mind.

‘He was a truly good and benevolent man. If the warmth and
ardor of devoticn—if long-continued seasons of prayer—if hourly
meditation and reading the Scriptures—if fasting and watching
—if charity and kindness, make up the elements of a good man,
then surely he was one. I have known him to spend hours upon
his knees with the word of God open before him. TI have seen
him bathed in tears whilst uttering the prayer, ‘Make me un-
derstand the way of thy precepts: so shall I talk of thy won-
drous work.’ Frequently at midnight would he arise and pour
out his soul to God. He lived, moved, and had his being in the
atmosphere of prayer. Like his Master, he ‘went about doing
good.’ In all places, and at all seasons, he sought and found
opportunity to proclaim the ‘unsearchable riches of Christ
Jesus.’ He lived only for others. Self did not enter into his
calculations or plans. All he received, he gave; and the record
of eternity will show that but few more disinterested men ever
adorned the ministry or blessed humanity. He was considerate,
and never occasioned trouble in his behalf.

“‘As a speaker, he had some faults, but many excellencies. Had
he devoted himself to the stage or the bar, he would have at-
tracted more than ordinary attention. Such were the number
and variety of his qualifications for efficient oratory, that had he
indulged his genius in these particulars, the common consent of
his hearers would have awarded him no small degree of applause.
But chastened and subdued, he wielded his gifts to win men to
DAYTON F. REED. 403

Jesus. His manner arrested attention instantly, and almost
riveted his hearers to their seats. He delineated every subject
upon which he discoursed. He was punctual to his Spencoments
and faithful to his promises.

‘He believed in being led by the Spirit. This fact will account
for the manner and matter of his sermons. I have heard him
say after preaching, that God gave him the sermon, and in a few
days he would forget all about it.’

His last illness was a brief but violent attack of congestion of
the brain, which terminated in death on the 9th of October,
1860. Such was the nature of the disease, that he was unable
to give any expressions of hope or triumph in his final moments.
But, he has left to his family and church a testimony more pre-
cious than dying words—the testimony of a good life.

T close this account of the eccentric, but devout and excellent
Dayton F. Reed, in the language of Rev. Joseph Cross, whose
pen furnished the beautiful sketch of his early ministry at Ithaca,
in the first part of this paper. He says:

‘‘Twenty years have passed since then. I have wandered far
from Ithaca and Auburn. A thousand new scenes and associa-
tions have arisen around me. But in the ever-shifting kaleido-
scope of life, I have never lost the image of Dayton F. Reed;
for, with all his eccentricities, I loved him as a brother, and
honored him as a saint. Often, within those years, had I
thought of him; and wished to know where he was, if liv-
ing; or how he died, if dead. But I had never heard of
him, nor seen his name in print, till, on opening the Mrru-
opist of November 10th, 1860, my eye fell upon his obituary.
How beautiful! What a life, what a character is portrayed in
those four brief paragraphs! A hundred pages of panegyric
could add nothing to the testimony. Faith, humility, purity of
heart, perfect conscientiousness, habitual self-denial, and the
most absorbing devotion—what more could any one desire?
And my heart tells me it is just. It accords with my recollec-
tions of the man. No wonder the lamp of life burned out so
soon, for his was truly a seraphic fervor. With all his fidelity
of adinonition, and occasional severity of rebuke, he was no
raven among the birds of paradise, no melancholy croaker over
404 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

evils which others failed to see. He was as loving as a John,
and an angel of God could scarcely be freer from envy. None
of his good qualities were more remarkable than his humility.
He was never obtrusive and dictatorial; but loved to be subor-
dinate to his brethren; and often, with the sweetest modesty,
sought their advice. Such was the Dayton F. Reed of my per-
sonal acquaintance, and such seems to have been the Dayton F.
Reed of the obituary.

‘Farewell, my dear brother! Thou hast entered into rest,
and ‘thy name is as ointment poured forth.’ May the God of
the widow and the orphan bless the beloved ones thou hast left
behind thee! And may thy poor brother, who rejoices to bear
this testimony to thy worth, share something of thy joy ‘in the
presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at his coming.’ ”’

“0 safe in port, where the rough billow breaks not,

Where the wild sea-moan saddens thee no more;
Where the remorseless stroke of tempest shakes not,

When, when shall I too gain that blissful shore?

“0 bright, amid the brightness all eternal,
When shall I breathe with thee the purest air?
Air of a land whose clime is ever vernal,
A land without a serpent or a snare.”
JOSEPH J. HANLY. 405

REV. JOSEPH J. HANLY.

THIs young and excellent minister was a native of Philadel-
phia, a son of John and Margaret Hanly, the eldest of eight
children, and was born May 3d, 1830. His parents are devoted
and active members of the M. KE. Cliurch, to which his father
has long held an official relation. They have observed with
tender solicitude, the command, ‘‘ Biing up your children in the
nurture and admonition of the Lord.’’ Providence, also, seems
to have thrown a special shield over Joseph’s childhood. When
scarlet fever, that fatal enemy of children, invaded the family
circle, and removed an infant brother, he revived, though for a
long time there seemed no hope of his recovery. At another
time his mother gave him poison by mistake, and to her con-
sternation, he lay for hours in what seemed a dying state. But
God spared her the extreme anguish of being even the unwilling
instrument of his death. Then again, when about three years
old, he was one day playing at the front door. His guardian
angel, probably, made his mother uneasy. Her glances through
the window were frequent. Presently he was gone. She
hastened out, looked in every direction, and was startled by the
thought, he 7s stolen. She cried an alarm, and rushed to the
street corner, where she caught a glimpse of what proved to be
his scarlet colored dress. She soon overtook a burly negro, ap-
parently a sailor, and snatched from him her preciousboy. She
was so excited and overjoyed that she failed to have the monster
arrested.

His great life work was foreshadowed when he was a mere child.
The Sunday-school and other means of grace with which he was
early made familiar, so arrested his attention, that he would often
collect other small children and hold meetings. To them this
was only play, but he was serious, and would sing and pray and
406 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

preach, with solemn earnestness. His natural disposition was
meek and amiable, and his surroundings religious, genial and
tender. Both nature and friends did much for him. Nor were
these influences lost, for he was remarkably thoughtful, obedi-
ent and affectionate.

Being the only living son, and of a studious turn, his father
intended to give him a liberal education, and then have him
succeed to his own business. For a short time he attended the
New London Academy, and then, at the age of fifteen, en-
tered the Pennington Seminary. Notwithstanding his home
training, and that he had prayed daily, and thought and felt
much on religious subjects. yet he did not enjoy religion. The
parting scene, as he left for Pennington, made a deep impres-
sion on his mind. And as he now entered distinctly upon his
educational career, he felt that new responsibilities were crowd-
ing upon him, and yet that earthly props were taken away.
Never had he so deeply felt the need of taking hold of the Divine
hand as his stay and guide. He earnestly prayed that ‘‘The
Spirit itself might bear witness with his spirit that he wasa
child of God.”’ Nearly six months thus passed, and the holiday
vacation brought fond home greetings. ‘‘ A watch-night’’ was
held at Ebenezer Church, and God was in the sanctuary. It was
a time of close heart-searching. Many approached the altar, seek-
ing either purity or pardon, and among them, Joseph, for . the
first time, publicly consecrated himself to the service of God.
Thus he closed the old year, and began the new. But the joy-
ful, ‘‘Happy new year,’’ found no answering response in his
burdened heart. In this state of mind he returned to Penning-
ton. ‘‘His agony became intense: he could not study ; he could
scarcely eat or sleep.’’ This night was long and dreary, but was
followed by a bright, beautiful morning. He was converted,
Jan. 18, 1846, in the midst of one of the gracious outpourings
of the Holy Spirit with which that institution has been favored.
At this time the interest was so great that, ‘‘ For days their
regular studies were suspended, and the cry for mercy might
have been heard from almost every room.’’ Joseph, having
been powerfully blessed, was constrained by the love of Christ,
to strive to lead his fellow students to the same Saviour. After
JOSEPH J. HANLY. 407

the revival subsided, all went prosperously for a season. Then
he was severely assaulted by the tempter. His mind became so
clouded and confused, that he doubted the truth of religion, and
even the existence of God, and was driven to the extreme length
of taking steps toward ending his own life. Butan unseen hand
held him, and after he learned some of the devices of Satan
the cloud was removed.

In October, 1846, he was compelled by failing health to leave
the Seminary, and also to abandon the cherished purpose of
pursuing a college course. When his strength permitted, he
entered his father’s store, attending chiefly to such calls as gave
him out-door exercise. The father’s purpose now, was to work
the business, at first gradually, and then fully, into the son’s
hands. But God ordered otherwise. The son’s heart was being
strangely moved in another direction. He found the store an
extremely irksome place, but was deeply interested in his re-
ligious duties. He was much grieved with hints that his fellow-
clerks thought him indolent, and especially to find that his father
was disappointed. He explained by referring to his impressions,
but his age and health were pointed to, in order to reconcile him
to the store.

Meanwhile he kept quite an extended diary, which fully re-
veals the tenor of his thoughts and feelings. How devout was
his spirit! How closely he searched himself! How carefully
his self-denial extended to little things! How earnestly he
sought the path of duty! Gladly would we show all this and
more in his own words, if space permitted.

In the summer of 1847 he enlisted some young men to aid him
in holding meetings in neglected neighborhoods, and anxiously
strove to do good in every practicable way. At length he fully
felt, ‘‘ Woe is me if I preach not the gospel!’’ Yet his father,
reluctant to give up his long-cherished hopes, did not seem to
sympathize with his views of duty. Nor did the Church at first
appear to second the call of God. This gave him great anxiety
lest his way should be hedged up, and he became a little impa-
tient at the delay. This seeming discrepancy between the call
of God and of the Church is readily explained. His entangle-
ment in business was forestalled by an early divine call, and then
408 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

the attention of the Church was directed to him as soon as his age
and health warranted. And when his father saw that this call was
from God, he too acquiesced, and sent him away with his bless-
ing. And now that the son felt that he was loose from the
world, and that his way was open, he seemed like an unfettered
bird, as free and as buoyant, but he rejoiced with trembling.

He was first employed by Rev. R. W. Petherbridge, Presid-
ing Elder of Trenton District, New Jersey Conference, on Free-
hold Circuit, as the colleague of Rev. J. S. Beegle. He took an
affecting leave of friends, and started for the scene of his labors
May 19, 1848, a few days after he had reached eighteen years.
His great concern had been to find the path of duty, and to ob-
tain permission to walk in it. Now he saw that he had reached
the position of a preacher without having provided anything to
preach. But prayer and study helped him out of the dilemma
in a way that confirmed him and impressed others that he was
truly called of God. This gave hope that his health would yet
become firm, while his meek spirit, amiable temper, and trem-
bling timidity, together with ready gifts and burning zeal, gave
large promise of usefulness. He was soon endeared to the peo-
ple, and received everywhere with much favor. A brief extract
will give an idea of his labors. ‘‘I preached to the people of
Squan on Monday night, held prayer-meeting in the Church on
Tuesday night, in a private house on Wednesday night. Thurs-
day night I preached at Newman’s school-house, and on Friday
night at Point Pleasant.’’ This was in midsummer, and in addi-
tion to the work of the Sabbath. About twenty were converted
in July; and as the evenings lengthened, a campaign of extra
meetings was entered upon, which lasted through the winter.
Revival succeeded revival till one hundred and twenty-five were
added to the Church. At the close of the year he was received
on trial in the Conference, and returned to the same field with
the same colleague.

In 1850 he traveled Moorestown Circuit, with Rev. H. Page.
This was also a year of incessant toil and great success. There
were large accessions to the Church at different points. Of
Beverly he writes, ‘‘ We commenced last May or June with a
class of about seven, and we now number, under the blessing of
JOSEPH J. HANLY. 409

God, about one hundred and sixty. It has been the most pow-
erful work I have witnessed since I have been in the ministry.
They have a new church, and at the coming Conference will ask
for a stationed preacher.”’

In 1851 he was admitted to membership in the Conference,
ordained a deacon by Bishop Janes, and appointed to Colum-
bus. A few days later he was married to Miss Joanna P. Rey-
nolds, of the vicinity of Tom’s River, Ocean Co., N. J., in whom
he found an affectionate companion and a good helpmate. Now
he had a home, and a strong centralizing attraction ; still his ar-
dor in the great work was not thereby lessened. For some
months but little visible fruits appeared. He became uneasy,
and, indeed, somewhat desponding. On the 2d of November
he returned home after preaching twice, and retired to his study
in an agony of prayer. He then went to the pulpit, attended
by an unusual divine unction. The audience was greatly moved,
Christians rejoiced, sinners were awakened, and seekers crowded
the altar. A revival was thus begun which prevailed till four
appointments were reached and large numbers converted. He
returned to this charge the next year, and aided in building a
church at Georgetown, where a good revival followed. God
gave him much favor with the people and success in his work.
But his incessant and wearing toils quite reduced his strength.

In 1853, he was ordained an elder by Bishop Morris, and sent
to Tuckerton. With the lighter work and sea bathing of the
summer, his health somewhat recruited. But with the return
of extra meetings and spreading revivals, he again. overtaxed his
powers, so that he was forced to a sick-bed about the first of Feb-
ruary. In one sense, this was ‘‘the beginning of sorrows.”’ He
only preached a few times till March 25, 1854, when he delivered
a farewell sermon and retired from the field. The thought that
his work was done, and the loss of a loved pastor, combined with
his emaciated appearance and tender, earnest manner, to render
this a deeply affecting occasion.

He repaired to Chestnut Hill, and as soon as able, entered a
branch store of his father’s. Here he slowly recruited. Then,
after much deliberation and consultation, and in order to provide
against the contingency of being unable to resume the ministry,
he heean the study of medicine, August 14, 1855, under Dr.

>
410 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

Keichline. A few months later, he was admitted to the Lec-
tures of the University of Pennsylvania. The next summer he
was partially employed as agent of Dickinson College, but spent
much time on the sea-shore in quest of health. In August,
1856, he took the place of Rev. J. H. Knowles, whose health
had failed, as pastor of Broadway Church, Camden. While
here, he continued his studies, and was honorably graduated as
an M. D. in the spring of 1858.

His term at Camden was eventful. At the same time that he
kept up with his class in college, he attended promptly to his
pulpit duties, and gave considerable time to pastoral oversight,
and also passed through varying experiences. He had long been
exercised on the subject of holiness. It had entered largely into
his prayers, private conversations, and public ministrations.
Yet his experience had been somewhat fluctuating. Now he
took an open, distinct stand. February 10, 1857, he writes:—
‘This day, I believe, will prove in eternity the best day I have
seen. This afternoon I was led to hear Rev. James Caughey
preach from, ‘Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see
God;’ and upon reading his text, he suddenly and boldly ex-
claimed, ‘And nobody else!’ These words fixed my attention and
led me to search my heart. * * * Oh, why have I been
hobbling along at such a poor, dying rate, when I might have
flown upon wings? Here, Lord, bear witness to my record:
henceforth and forever I dedicate all that I have and am, and
may be, and give up everything contrary to thy will. I have no
other desire but to lay myself, a living sacrifice, upon the altar.
O my heavenly Father, be thou my gracious and saving helper.”’
Thus was God leading him under a safe covert from the coming
storm, the first blast of which was in domestic affliction. Their
precious Katie, not quite three years old, after weeks of painful
solicitude, was taken from their fond embrace, on the 4th of
April. After this, the summer and autumn passed away with-
out the usual success of his former ministry. Whispers were
also circulated, that if part of the time given to his medical
studies were spent among the people, things might go better.
As these hints reached his ears, they went like daggers to his
heart. But as he had tried to consult duty at the outset, and
had felt no qualms of conscience thus far, and as these complaints
JOSEPH J. HANLY. 411

did not reach him till near the close of his course, he did not
feel it his duty to halt then. He hoped that God would send
them a revival, and thus heal all wounds. Oh, how he agonized
with the Lord; and as his extra meetings approached, became
so anxious that he could sleep or rest but little. He secured
able help, and prosecuted a vigorous campaign for five weeks.
Yet but little fruit of all this labor could be seen, while the
failure under the circumstances, and the thought that he was
blamed for it, almost crushed and overwhelmed him. His soul
writhed in the deepest anguish, and vented its bitter cries to the
Lord, wails he still felt, ‘‘ Though he alny me, yet will I trust
in him.’

In 1859, he was stationed in Gaetan and from the first it
seemed like entering a new world, so free were his feelings and
so heartily did the people rally around him. Nor was this
merely spasmodic, but as time rolled on, and his face grew more
pale, and his frame more feeble, and especially as his soul
ripened for heaven, the unction on his ministry and the interest
of the people in it, steadily increased. Many were converted,
and the whole church edified and prospered. Thus matters
moved on till June 14, 1859, when he preached from, ‘‘He that
goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless
come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him.’’ God
touched his lips and filled the house with his glory. The scene
was in a high degree affecting and profitable. But his rapt
soul led him beyond his bodily strength. He did not preach
again till July 3d, nor ever after, except in great feebleness. His
situation excited much anxiety. Brother Elias Mattson kindly
took him on a health-seeking tour, ‘which, however, availed but
little. August 14, he preached from, ‘‘My heart and my flesh
faileth, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion for-
--ever.’’ How appropriate for his last sermon! After this he
took but little part in any religious exercises, though he did con-
siderable pastoral visiting. As his nerves became weak, his
spirits were often depressed, but Christian conversation seldom
failed to revive him. A slight hemorrhage added to the alarming
symptoms. Thus the winter passed till the last Sunday in Feb-
~yuary, when, at the close of the sermon, he entered the church
and took an affectionate and deeply affecting leave of the con-
412 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

gregation, and the next day repaired to his father’s. After this
his health fluctuated, and his time was spent among his friends
at different points. But in October, he finally returned to his
father’s at Chestnut Hill.

He never expected to live long, and frequently spoke of dying
early. He once said, ‘‘When I entered the ministry, its solemn
weight seemed to be crushing out my very life: I looked to God
in earnest prayer, and asked him to spare my life and give me
ten years to preach the gospel to poor, perishing sinners;’’ and
he did preach ten years. Death to him did not wear a gloomy
aspect. He would talk about dying with great composure, and
once said, ‘‘ A Christian has no death,—only a dying unto sin.”
When he finally reached home, he said, ‘‘ Mother, I have come
home once more, to remain with you now until I either get better
or am taken to my better home.’’ When nearer his end, he was
asked if his pain was relieved; he replied, ‘‘ Not much; but the
everlasting arms are underneath me. It is that, oh, yes! itis
that which supports me.’’ When asked how he felt, he ex-
claimed, ‘‘I have very little to do with feeling: if I had trusted
to that alone, I might have sunk into deep mental depression;
for my sufferings have been so great, and my nervous system so
shocked, that at times I have had but little feeling. But God
has promised that he would never forsake me. I believe him,
yes, I do believe him. This is all that I can do.’ Again he
said, ‘‘Nature can’t stand this much longer,”’ and then prayed,
“Good Master, deliver me.’’ He gave his dying blessing to his
children; and, after drinking some water, exclaimed, ‘‘Oh, that
is good, but I will have it from the rock.’’ He was too weak to
say much after this, but his whole manner indicated a trium-
phant frame of mind. Sabbath morning, October 28, 1860, in
a quiet, peaceful way, he sweetly resigned his spirit into the

hands of Jesus, aged thirty years and nearly five months. His.

mortal remains were conveyed to Woodstown, and after appro-
priate services, deposited in front of the church, where his friends
have erected a monument to his memory.

A widow and two children survive him. She has also reared
to his memory an enduring monument, in the form of an inter-
esting memorial volume, from which the materials for this sketch
are derived.
RICHARD W. PETHERBRIDGE. 413

REV. RICHARD W. PETHERBRIDGE.

“He stood the messenger of truth; he stood
The legate of the skies ; his theme divine,
His office sacred, his credentials clear.

By him the violated law spoke out
Its thunders ; and by him in tones as sweet
As angels use, the gospel whispered peace.”

Ir is a pleasing task to review the lives of virtuous men.
Purity has a charm, and holiness commands the esteem not only
of human hearts, but all heaven resounds with highest commen-
dations, Even after the earthly career is run, and such persons
go down to the tomb, the mind reverts with sacred interest to
their loving words of friendship, or, to their still more valuable
admonitions, administered with the tenderest concern for our
eternal welfare. Heaven designs such men shall never be for-
gotten. ‘‘ The righteous shall be in everlasting remembrance.”’

There are few persons to whom memory recurs with pyro-
founder pleasure than Richard Whatcoat Petherbridge. Not
that he was perfect; who is? But even his failings had in them
so much honesty of purpose and frankness of' spirit, that they
ceased almost to be failings, and the beholder involuntarily
covered them with the mantle of charity.

He was born of devout Methodistic parents, in the city of
Philadelphia, on the 6th of October, 1792, Of his childhood
and youth we know but little, save that he was early impressed
with the importance of a virtuous life, When quite small, his
mother said to him, ‘‘ Richard, you are now young; be careful
of your character, for if you receive a stain upon it now, it will
remain with you through life.’’ Referring to this advice a short
time before his death, he said, ‘‘T am now an old man, and,
414 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

while my life has been subject to the ordinary infirmities inci-
dent to humanity, yet by the grace of God IT have maintained an
unspotted character until now.’’

His first religious impressions were received under the preach-
ing of Rev. Manly Smallwood, a local minister, whose name was
precious to him till the close of life. He became a decided
Christian under the labors of that eminent minister of Christ,
Rev. Joshua Wells. Soon after his conversion he was con-
vinced that it was his duty to preach the gospel; but the call
was resisted, and it was not until he was prostrated by a severe
attack of sickness that he consented to yield, and consecrate
himself entirely to the service of God.

In the early part of 1815, having consented to have his name
brought before the brethren for recommendation to the Annual
Conference as a traveling preacher, he attended Quarterly Con-
ference for the first time. It was a great trial to him. He was
to be examined on doctrine and discipline, but the Rev. Henry
Boehm, who was Presiding Elder, conducted the exercises with
so much consideration, that he was almost wholly disarmed of
his fears, and as it was a very stormy night in the month of
January, he was allowed to retire toa distant part of the church,
while they discussed his case. While there, he was busy with
his own thoughts, not hearing or caring to hear what was
said, until he was startled from his reverie, by some one
coming in and saying in a loud voice, ‘‘ I oppose the sending of
that young man on the circuit, it is too soon, he has not had ex-
perience enough, I should like to see him, whereishe?’’ He was
immediately called up, and stood in the presence of the learned Dr.
Sargent. The doctor soon began proposing questions, and the
young candidate, who was but twenty-one years of age, trembled
like an aspen. ‘‘ Young man,”’ said the doctor, sternly, ‘‘ you
ought to stay at home at least two years before you go out to
preach.’’ Young Petherbridge, whose mind had yielded to con-
victions of duty with extreme reluctance, had nothing to say,
but while afflicted at the doctor’s sternness, felt strongly inclined
to his view of the subject. Still, as the church had taken the

matter in hand, he was disposed to submit to its decision.

After some further discussion, the doctor’s objections were
RICHARD W. PETHERBRIDGE. 415

overcome, Petherbridge was recommended, and in the following
April was received by the Philadelphia Conference.

His first appointment was to Talbot Circuit, on Chesapeake
District, Md., and his first Presiding Elder, who became his life-
long friend, the reverend, and now venerable and venerated
Henry Boehm, who had so gently passed him through his first
examination.

From Talbot Circuit, he was removed in 1816, to New Mills,
where he became acquainted with the family of Mr. Budd, which
henceforth shared the unmeasured affections of his heart, and
into which he subsequently married, three successive times.

In 1817 he was appointed to Asbury Circuit, with Rev. George
Banghart, and there was considerable religious interest.

During these years, his own experience was maturing rapidly.
Convinced that holiness of heart was a high and glorious
privilege, he sought and obtained it. While passing round the
circuit with his heart filled with Divine love, he wrote to a dear
friend as follows :—

‘“‘Tadore our gracious God for the riches of his grace bestowed
upon you. Improve that grace, and he will give you more
abundantly. Your thirst for sanctification is one of the strong-
est evidences that it is the will of God concerning you ; for be-
lieve it, this is the necessary disposition in order to obtain it, and
may I not add, the only necessary disposition.

‘All the fitness he requires,
Is to feel your need of him.’

‘“‘ Should the suggestion be made, ‘ You have not improved the
talent given ;’ I would ask in reply,

‘Will you tarry till you’re better?’
if so,

‘You will never come at all.’

. ***T'o whom shall we go but unto the Lord, for he has the
words of eternal life.’ You have been bold enough to ask for
this great blessing, continue your importunities ; God loves the
soul most, that asks the most: put no limits to the riches of his
grace, for the Saviour has come that you might have life, and
416 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

have it more abundantly. Have you been so presumptuous to
expect so great a blessing? It was by such presumption, that
you first obtained forgiving love, and by the same presumption
you shall obtain that perfect love that casteth out all slavish
fear. But does the thought arise, ‘let me receive it, and then
I will believe it?? Remember, as we received Christ Jesus the
Lord, so we must walk in him. We first believed, and then re-
ceived, now believe, and thou shalt receive,

‘All the depth of humble love.’”

Such an experience possessed and urged upon others, gave
him great religious strength, and as a result, in all the embar-
rassments of life, he had a perfect trust in God. On leaving
Asbury, he was appointed in 1818, with Rev. Geo. Wooley, to
Essex and Staten Island Circuits.

From representations made to him previous to entering upon
this charge, he had high anticipations, but these were not
realized. Methodists were few, and vital piety was low. He
felt sometimes greatly discouraged, but tried to labor on, looking
to God for aid.

In 1819, he went to Hamburgh Circuit in the extreme north-
ern part of the state. Here he remained one year, and the next
two he was on Gloucester Circuit, the first year with Rev. D.
Bartine and the last with Rev. E. Stout. In those days par-
sonages were few, and the preachers had to get along the best
they could.

Brother Petherbridge had married while on Gloucester Cir-
cuit, and his family, and the family of Brother Stout resided in
one house. These things, while they had some disadvantages,
had likewise their compensations; in this case, a friendship was
formed between the two ministers residing beneath the same roof,
which was as lasting as life. Their wives too, were bound to-
gether in love, but this attachment was short, for in a few months
death came to the quiet home of the country preachers, and
Sister Petherbridge was borne to the silent tomb.

His next appointment, in 1822, was Hamburgh again. He
had been absent, but two years, and how it came he returned so
soon, we are not informed, but so the minutes state.
RICHARD W. PETHERBRIDGE. 417

He was married this year to Miss Theodosia Budd. They
kept house in one room, in Deckertown. He said to his mother-
in-law, Perhaps you ask, how we get along without goods?
‘‘Our kind friends have furnished us with a few articles, and as
necessity is the mother of invention, we are now learning by ex-
perience what wise men have said, that the real wants of mortals
are but few.’’ He received that year but forty-two dollars in
money, and yet he says, ‘‘ We never lived so well. We are
more than comfortable, for happiness has its seat in the mind.
We are happy in each other and in our God.”’

In 1823 he and his friend Stout were again together, this
year, on Salem Circuit. The following year he was on New
Mills Circuit, the home of his wife, with T. Neal for his col-
league.

From New Mills he was sent in 1825 to Trenton Circuit with
John Walker. The next two years his name stands in con-
nection with Allentown as Supernumerary.

In 1828 he was appointed to the charge of Freehold Circuit,
with William Granville.

While engaged on one of these large circuits, there came a terri-
bly stormy day. His appointment was distant some ten or twelve
miles. His family endeavored to dissuade him from going, on
the ground that no one would be present. But he felt he must
be there, if no one else was. He went. Onreaching the place of
meeting, he found twelve persons awaiting his arrival. He
preached, led class, and gave an opportunity to any who wished
to unite with the church. Seven of the number joined on proba-
tion, among whom was a man and his wife, four of whose sons
subsequently became ministers of the Gospel.

Having now labored largely through New Jersey, he was sent
in 1829 and 1830, to Kensington station, in Philadelphia.

From that charge he was returned in 1831 and 1832 to Trenton
Circuit, the first year effective, and the second as supernume-
rary.

During these years, he was not only afflicted in his own person,
but the hand of God was frequently laid upon him in domestic
bereavements. His companions were not long-lived, and his heart
was frequently bowed and rent with unutterable sorrow.

27
418 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

In 1833 he was appointed Presiding Elder of the West
Jersey District; where he remained until 1837.

His work wholly absorbed his mind. On one occasion, he
started from home in such haste that he forgot to change his
coat, and preached in his old seedy garment, without noticing
his appearance. Not so with his hearers. They took compas-
sion on him, and desired him to call at a tailoring establishment
before he left town. He did so. The merchant requested him
to look at some pieces of cloth and make his selection. One
piece he particularly admired, and said, ‘‘ That suits my taste,
but this,’ referring to another piece, ‘‘ would be good enough
for me.”

He was then requested to stand and be measured. ‘‘ Oh,”’
he remarked, ‘‘ that is not worth while, as J am not prepared to
get a suit now.’’ ‘‘ No matter,’’ replied the merchant, ‘‘T have
orders to get your measure, please satisfy me.’’ Greatly won-
dering what all this could mean, he finally complied. Shortly
after, greatly to his astonishment, he received a whole new suit.
It was a great surprise, being the jirst, and as it proved, the last
present of the kind he ever received; and this grew out of the
fact that he had unintentionally worn his old coat to church. In
referring to the matter, afterward, he humorously remarked, he
had learned for the first time, how to get a present.

As he passed round his district, his quarterly meetings were
seasons of great interest, for his preaching was sound, spiritual
and practical, while his prayers had such an unction, that one
person remarked, if they could only hear him pray, it was as
good as a sermon from almost any other minister.

When the New Jersey Conference was formed in 1837, he was
appointed to Trenton District, when he remained four years.

Firmly attached to the church of his choice, he ably vindicated
her doctrines and discipline, and was one of the safest leaders in
our general and annual conferences.

In the administration of discipline he was mild, but decided,
and his conclusions were generally satisfactory to all.

He had now a considerable family claiming his attention, and
he said, ‘t My children shall have an education, no matter how
hard I have to work. I shall give them that, if I never give
RICHARD W. PETHERBRIDGE. 419

them anything else, that can never be taken from them, and will
make them independent in any situation.”

When the Pennington Seminary opened, he entered his son
John as its first boarding student, and he remained the firm
friend of the institution through life. While his son was there
the father’s solicitudes for him were very great, and he wrote to
him as follows, ‘‘I wish you to write by Mr. Winner, and in-
form me how you like the place, how you succeed in your studies,
and if you are trying to be good. For be assured my dear boy,
learning, riches, or anything else, will be of little service unless
you are good. But learning and goodness will make you every-
thing your affectionate father desires you to be, a respectable
man, and a happy Christian. Do not neglect to read that
precious book, the Holy Bible. It will be as a lamp to your feet,
and a light to your path through life, and will conduct you to
heaven, the home of the good. Neglect not to pray every morn-
ing and night in your chamber, that your heavenly Father will
keep you from evil. Forget not my advice when with you, to
keep out of the company of wicked boys. The wise man says,
‘My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou not.’”’

At the close of his term on the district, in 1841, he removed
to Pennington as supernumerary, and became steward and finan-
cial agent of the Seminary, in which position he remained four
years.

He then opened a small store in the town, and did considerable
business, but his benevolence was too great to make it very profit-
able. A poor mancame in one day, and bought a pair of shoes.
‘* Please charge them,”’ said the man, and left. A person stand-
ing by, said, ‘‘ Mr. Petherbridge, why did you trust such a
man?” ‘‘T could notrefuse,”’ said Mr. Petherbridge; ‘‘ did you
not see how much heneeded them? The Lord will never let me
want, for helping him.”

His ideas of fair dealing often made himin the world’s view of
it, at least, the loser. If he had a horse to sell, he would in-
variably ask less than he gave, even though it had improved on
his hands, because he would argue, ‘‘I have had several years’
service out of it.”

Honest to the last extreme himself, he thought others were
420 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

the same, and acted towards them as such. He often loaned
money, with asimple promise to pay, many of which loans were
never cancelled. After four years’ experience of this kind, he
closed his store, and resumed his work in the itinerancy.

In 1849, he was appointed to Burlington District, where he
remained three years. In 1852, he was stationed at Third St.,
Camden, and in 1853, returning to Pennington, he took the
charge of the River Church in that vicinity, and with that
church, ended the years of his active ministry. About this time,
his son-in-law, Dr. Cory, in view of his retirement from the
regular work of the ministry, dedicated to him the following
lines, and their insertion here seems appropriate.

THE MINISTER'S FAREWELL!

“ My three-score years and ten,

Are almost numbered now ;

The lines of furrowed age are plain
Upon my cheek and brow,

And soon the last adieu
I shall be called to take

The pitcher at the fount of life,
I feel must shortly break.

“These locks as dark as night,
When I was in my prime,
Now fully frosted o’er, bespeak
The lightning march of time.
And like the tender plant
I must submissive bend,
Beneath the ruthless, certain stroke;
Time knows no favorite friend.

“But how can I depart
From earth’s endearing scenes ?
From the beloved, happy ones,
Saved by my humble means?
From those at home so dear,
That love so well, but then,
There is a pure eternal home
Where we shall meet again ?
RICHARD W. PETHERBRIDGE. 421

“Tm ready ; long I’ve fought,
The votaries of sin,
And well I know there’s life for me,
At death will life begin.
No name [ ask but this,
When friends my tomb-stone scan,
Let them in simple accents read,

‘He was w holy man.’”

Pennington now became his settled home, where he was
greatly loved and honored by all. Here he lived in the enjoy-
ment of his family and friends.

He was a man of stern appearance, and on that account often
misunderstood by those who did nit know him; but though
these things were so, his heart was full of the holiest and ten-
derest sympathies, and among his friends he was intensely loving.
He often said, ‘‘ My happiest moments are with my family bowed
around the altar of prayer ;’’ and his surviving loved ones will
never forget those sacred hours and scenes.

He greatly delighted to have his children round him. He fre-
quently said, ‘‘ Aslong asI have a roof, my children shall have
a home.’’

His youngest daughter felt it her duty to go South to teach.
An older sister went down to the house to bid her good-bye, but
found she had left. The almost broken-hearted father met her
at the door with open arms, and after giving her the most affec-
tionate embrace, exclaimed, ‘‘Oh how glad I am to see one of
my children again!’’ He could say no more, his heart was too
full for words, and he wept like a child.

When his eldest daughter died, his grief was so great that he
prayed, ‘‘O God, spare me from seeing another one of my chil-
dren die.”’

He taught his children the great duty of Christian charity.
‘You must forgive and forget too,’’ was his constant exhorta-
tion. ‘‘Many persons,’’ said he, ‘‘will do one, but not the
other; if you will be Christ’s disciples you must do both.” He
likewise taught them the important principle of trust in God.
‘Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and
all these things shall be added unto you.”’ ‘‘ Trust in the Lord,
422 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

and do good, and verily thou shalt be fed,’’ were subjects to
which he called their attention with great frequency and earnest-
ness.

He had humbling views of his own efforts, and rarely said
much about the success of his ministry. Sitting in the porch
one pleasant afternoon in conversation, Dr. Cory said to him,
‘‘ Father, it must be a pleasing reflection when you think of the
good you have done during the many years you have been in the
service of the Lord.’? He responded with a sigh, ‘‘I do not
know that I have ever done any good.’’ Several listeners begged
him never to think so again, for he had done them good, and
they were sure many would rise up in the last day and call him
blessed.

Brother Petherbridge possessed a clear, strong, and compre-
hensive mind. He took his positions deliberately and carefully,
and then was a bold and unflinching advocate for the right.
Sometimes in this advocacy he seemed to be stern, almost to
anger, and often, aware of the impression his appearance and
manner might produce, would stop, and say, ‘‘ Brethren, I am
not angry, [am in earnest.”

He took a great deal of interest in questions involving the wel-
fare of the State and country, especially in the TEMPERANCE
Rerorm, and urged the passage of a law similar to that of
Maine with all his energies of voice, vote, and pen. He said,
‘*Such a law would relieve the industrious tax-payer of at least
three-fourths of all the taxes raised to support paupers, and the
prosecution and maintenance of criminals.’”” Not having the
statistics of his own State at hand, he refers to those of New
York, as follows:—‘‘The Board of Supervisors of Livingston
County paid for the support of paupers and the prosecution of
criminals in 1852, eighteen thousand, four hundred and forty-
three dollars, and of this sum, fourteen thousand and seven dol-
lars were for cases resulting directly from rum. In Saratoga
County there were similar facts. If we were to stop, then, in
matters of dollars and cents, who can be so blind as not to see
that a law of prohibition would be of incalculable benefit to the
community? Let it be remembered, too, that the greater part
of legislative acts refer directly or indirectly to monetary inter-
RICHARD W. PETHERBRIDGE. 423

ests. Why, then, inflict this enormous imposition upon the
public, or why authorize such oppressions ?

‘‘Repeal the present license system. Prohibit the sale of li-
quor as a beverage, and you save in this item of taxation three
out of every four dollars thus assessed. Let any legislature im-
pose a tax upon the people of three out of four dollars for any
purpose of even doubtful expediency; and the last hope of their
return would depart with their footsteps. But let any legisla-
ture impose a direct tax of this ratio for an object that everybody
admits does more harm than good, and if there was no other
way of dispensing with their services, the people in the majesty
of their strength would do as Oliver Cromwell did to the long
parliament, with fixed bayonets show them the way to the outer
door. Now, though we may admit the license system is not a
direct tax, yet it does as certainly affect the pecuniary interests
of the people in this ratio as if it were direct. ‘lhe expense is
incurred as the result of the license system, and the tax must be
paid. It is then plain that the legislature can save the people
three out of four dollars in this item of taxation alone; and do
they do their duty when they neglect to protect the people from
such enormous impositions? We hear much of retrenchments,
and they are made the hobby of politicians. Here, then, is a
matter in public expense that may be retrenched without injury
to any one, but of incalculable good to all, and the amount is
enormous—one dollar tax instead of four. Three dollars saved
out of every four in the items of paupers’ and criminals’ expense.
We repeat, the monetary interests of the community demand
prohibition.”

So deeply interested in this noble cause, his friends were anx-
ious to secure him a seat in the State legislature, and in order to
bring about such a result, placed his name on an independent
ticket. The election came, and he was defeated. Returning to
his family, he said, ‘‘I am not disappointed; they don’t want
such men as I am in the Legislature.”’

He wasa true patriot. At the Presidential election in 1860
he was not in sympathy with the ascendant party. Pennington,
however, was illuminated, and he placed the words, ‘‘OuR
Country,” in bright lights in his window. Upon being called
424 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

to an account for it by some of his political friends, he replied,
“* For my country I will ever illuminate, no matter what party
triumphs ; that is always appropriate and right.”

He was the subject of much personal affliction. A severe
neuralgic affection of the head and eyes was not only a frequent,
but sometimes for days and weeks a constant source of suffering.

He likewise passed through many and severe domestic bereave-
ments. It was his sad lot to follow four loved companions to
the grave, while the last remains a stricken widow, who, with
his children, mourn his loss.

Through all these trials he conducted himself with becoming
resignation, exclaiming, ‘‘The Lord gave, and the Lord hath
taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord.”’ In all his sor-
rows he found comfort in the glorious doctrine of a future sin-
less and painless life. Heaven loomed up before him, especially
towards the close of his pilgrimage, with all its divine realities.
About a month before his death, visiting his old friends at
Hightstown, he was going from the house of Brother Winner to
Brother Morrison’s. On the way he had a sudden and severe
attack of his old complaint, neuralgia of the heart, and came
very near dying on the street. Speaking of it afterwards, he
said, ‘‘Oh, my daughter, I had no fear, I saw heaven opened ;
and though I seldom shout, my hands went together, and I felt
like crying, Glory. I felt as if I was almost home, and I had no
desire to stay but for my family’s sake.’’

His sight, from the pain he so constantly suffered in his head
and eyes, was rapidly failing, and the prospect of its entire loss
sometimes made him sad. Visiting at the house of the writer
one day, while sitting at the dinner-table, finding it difficult to
discern the objects before him, he said, ‘‘I am afraid I have not
grace enough to be blind.’’ Isaid to him, “ Father Pether-
bridge, God may never require you to be blind.’’ ‘‘ Qh yes,”’
he quickly responded, ‘‘I shall be totally blind in less than three
months.’”’ ‘‘ Well,” I replied, ‘‘in less than three months you
may be in glory.”” Immediately his whole countenance became
radiant with joy, and his heart seemed greatly relieved with the
possibility that it might be so. And so it was.

Fifteen days after this conversation, on the 15th of March,
RICHARD W. PETHERBRIDGE. 425

1861, seemingly as well as he had been for some time, with his
wife and a few friends he paid a social visit to the house of his
pastor, Rev. A. E. Ballard. This he enjoyed very much, in-
deed. All the afternoon his countenance was peculiarly serene
and heavenly, and his prayer at the close of that Christian inter-
view was so full of tenderness and love, that those who were pri-
vileged to be present will never forget it. He prayed for all,
but especially for the beloved pastor whose term of service was
just expiring—that God would go with him to his new field of
labor, and that the blessed Master would control in the choice
of his successor ; that he, too, might come in the fullness of the
blessing of the gospel of Christ.

It was his last prayer, and worthy of being the last. It was
now dark, and a friend assisted him in returning to his house,
which was just across the way. He sat down, spoke a few words
upon some ordinary subject, was seized with neuralgia of the
heart, then looking towards his wife, exclaimed, ‘‘O my dear,
my dear,’’ fell side-ways in his chair, and so, without being
blind, and without realizing the agonies of death, which for years
he had so much dreaded, gently and peacefully he fell asleep,
and awoke in the bright land of glory, where the eyes grow not
dim, and sufferings are no more.

“Christ himself the living splendor,
Christ the sunlight mild and tender,
Praises to the Lamb we render,

Heaven, sweet heaven at last.”

The day of his burial was stormy, yet there was a large assem-
bly, and the occasion was improved by Rev. Isaac Winner, for
many years his co-laborer in the ministry, in a very impressive
sermon, from the words of the Apostle Paul, ‘‘ For we know that
if the earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a
building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the
heavens.”

His remains were then conveyed to the family burial-ground,
connected with the M. E. Church, Pemberton, where they now
repose, awaiting the resurrection of the just.
426 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

REV. MANNING FORCE.

Few names, during the last half century, have been as familiar
in the Methodist families of New Jersey, as that of Manning
Force. His ministerial career began and ended in this state,
although some portions of it were passed in Philadelphia, Balti-
more and the state of Delaware. During all the lengthened
period referred to, he went in and out before the ‘‘ many thou-
sands’ of our Israel, as preacher, pastor and Presiding Elder,
sustaining an unblemished reputation, ‘‘ preaching Jesus and
the resurrection,’’ and gathering multitudes into the fold of
Christ. The life of such a man is an inestimable treasure to the
church of God and to humanity. In an obituary notice which
appeared in the minutes of the Newark Conference, the writers
well say, ‘‘A life so eminently given to the church of God,
should receive more than a passing notice; it should have a
fitting memorial.’’ Such a memorial we would gladly furnish,
were it within our power. But the scantiness of the materials
which have come to hand, and the brief space allotted in this
volume, will forbid more than a notice of the prominent events
of his life.

He was of French descent, his grand-parents, on his father’s
side, having emigrated from France at an early period of our
country’s history. He was born in the city of New York, in the
year 1789, only five years after the adoption of the Constitution
of the United States.

His mother was a pious and devoted Christian woman, and
endeavored to bring up her children ‘‘in the nurture and admo-
nition of the Lord.’’? With her husband and family she attended
service in what was called the ‘‘ Brick Church.’’ Under the
training of this Christian mother, and the instructions of the men
of God oceupying the pulpit of that once honored church, young
MANNING FORCE. 427

Force, doubtless, received those instructions which early ripened
into the consecration of all his powers to the service of Christ. His
early education was as good as ordinarily obtained in the schools
at that period. When about sixteen years of age, anxious to do
something for himself, he was at his own request, apprenticed
toa Mr. Banks, in the village of Denville, N. J., to learn the
hatting business. Only a few months after he had entered upon
his new employment, his mind became profoundly impressed
with his need of a Saviour. Whether this was through the
direct instrumenitality of the Methodist ministry, then traveling
in that region, or the fruitage of seeds carefully sown in his heart
by his mother, is not known. But having, as the result of his
impressions, made up his mind to become a Christian, although
as yet destitute of the knowledge of sins forgiven, he joined the
little band of Methodists in his neighborhood, as one ‘‘ desirous of
fleeing from the wrath to come, and of being saved from his sins.’’
For three long and dreary months he went bowed down under
‘‘the spirit of bondage.’’ No ray of light penetrated his dun-
geon ; no voice of mercy spoke peace to his troubled and often
anguished heart. At length, however, the time of his deliver-
ance came. His night of sorrow, apparently so long protracted,
was to be succeeded by the day-dawn ; and that day-dawn by the
increasing brightness of ‘‘ the path of the just.”’

It was in the house of Benjamin Munn, Parsippany, N. J.,
at a general society meeting, that the burden rolled from his
heart, and Jesus was revealed to him as his personal, precions
Saviour. His heart was now all aflame with the love of Christ,
and with his tongue he endeavored to express that which can
never be expressed, the joy and the peace of the new-born soul.
Such, indeed, was his zeal for the glory of God and the salvation
of souls, that he attracted the attention of Revs. David Bartine
and William McClennahan, who were then traveling on Eliza-
beth Circuit. They at once urged him to hold religious meet-
ings, for prayer and exhortation, wherever the opportunity might
be presented.

To their solicitations, although opposed to his natural diffi-
dence, he yielded, and began a work which was to ‘‘ make his
heart rejoice,’’ and in which he was to spend ‘‘the remnant of
428 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

his days.’”’ Although but a youth, yet his tall and commanding
appearance, his natural dignity and grace, the mellowness and
sweetness of his voice in singing, prayer and exhortation, al-
tracted the people and won many to Christ. He was nowurged
to accept license to preach, which was given to him at a quar-
terly meeting held in Turkey, (now New Providence, N. J.) on
the 14th of Oct., 1809. This license bears the signature of
Joseph Totten, Presiding Elder of the New Jersey District.
Soon after this he was pressed to enter the traveling connection.
But here a difficulty occurred with his employer. He, Laban-
like, seeing the services of the young man were profitable to him,
refused to give him up. But, after much persuasion, and by the
payment of a sum of money, he released him from the last year
of his apprenticeship. That year he devoted to preparing for
the work before him, working at his trade to obtain the means
to pay his employer, and procure for himself the humble, yet
necessary outfit of a Methodist itinerant. When in his twenty-
second year, he was received on trial in the Philadelphia Confer-
ence, and appointed to Asbury Circuit as the colleague of Rev.
David Bartine. His first preaching place on the circuit, was
Flanders, where in the house of Judge Monroe, he found an
hospitable home whenever he was on that part of the circuit.
Here too, he became acquainted with Miss Nancy Monroe, whom
he married, on the 24th of Nov., 1814, and with whom, for more
than two-score years, he lived in peace and harmony. Mrs.
Force still resides in Flanders, cherishing the profoundest affec-
tion for the memory of her departed husband, and longing to
rejoin him on the glorified shore.

He had now fully entered upon his great lifework. Cut loose
from all worldly entanglements he was henceforth to ‘‘ know
nothing among men, but Jesus Christ and him crucified.’’ In-
flamed with zeal in his Master’s service, he labored by night and
by day, in public and in private, to fulfill his mission. Nor were
his labors and those of his colleague without success. Many
souls were saved, and his convictions of his call to the ministry
were confirmed and strengthened by the manifest approval which
God gave him. His next circuit was Dover, in the state of
Delaware, to which he was appointed with Asa Smith. In1813
MANNING FORCE. 429

and 1814, we find him on the Philadelphia Circuit, as junior
preacher, laboring the first year with those blessed men of God,
Robt. R. Roberts, Thomas Boring and John Emory; and the
second, with Robt. R. Roberts, John Emory and David Best;
two of whom, Robt. R. Roberts and John Emory, subseqently
became Bishops of the M. E. Church. In 1815 he was re-ap-
pointed to Asbury Circuit, this time as preacher in charge, with
William Smith for his colleague. He continued on the Circuit
during the year 1816, and had George Banghart, now an honored
superannuated member of the Newark Conference as his co-
laborer. It was a rare thing to return a young man so soon to
a circuit in those days. What were the particular reasons in-
fluencing this appointment we know not,

Having traveled extensively over the eastern and northern
parts of N. J. at the Conference of 1817 he was appointed to
Trenton Circuit with Daniel Moore as the junior preacher.
From there, in 1818 and 1819, he was transferred to the Balti-
more Conference, and stationed in Baltimore City, with Thomas
Burch and John Bear. In 1820 and 1821, he was returned to
the Philadelphia Conference, and placed on Bristol Circuit, with
Phinehas Price as his colleague. In 1822 he was appointed to
Bergen Circuit, with Benj. Collins, a name dear to many of the
Methodists of N. J. And now, after he had preached and
labored from the Blue Mountains and the Delaware to the At-
lantic, after he had traveled through a large part of Delaware
and been stationed in the cities of Philadelphia and Baltimore,
he was appointed in the spring of 1823 to the Hast New Jersey
District, on which he continued for four years, from 1823 to
1827. In 1824 he was elected for the first time a member of the
General Conference, an honor, which was likewise conferred
upon him in the years 1828, 1832, 1836, 1840, and 1848. His
labors over on the district, he was stationed in the Union church,
Philadelphia, in the years 1827 and 1828, with Rev. T. F. Sar-
geant as junior preacher. In 1829 and 1830, he was appointed
to St. George’s, having as his colleagues the first year, B. Weed
and Anthony Atwood; and the second year Levi Storks and
Levi Scott, the last named now one of the bishops of our church.
These four years in the city were vears of incéssant toil, but also
430 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL,

years of great peace and prosperity inthechurch. Manysouls were
converted to God, and the borders of Zion were greatly enlarged.
The years 1831 and 1832 find him on the Philadelphia District.
This district was then divided, and he was brought back to
New Jersey amid the scenes and associations of his early minis-
try. He was appointed to the Asbury District, where he re-,
mained from 1833 to 1837. At the close of his labors on the
Asbury District, the Philadelphia Conference was divided, and he
was then appointed to the Newark District, in the New Jersey Con-
ference, where he labored with great success from: 1837 to 1840.
Here, in 1838, his health began to give way under the pressure
of long-continued labors and exposures in the service of the
Church, and he began to think that it would be necessary for
him to retire for a season and seek rest. It was under these cir-
cumstances that he was led to accept the nomination of the
Democratic party for congressman of the district within whose
bounds he resided. This called forth the very severe, and, in
some instances, bitter animadversions of some of his brethren,
both of the ministry and the laity. These things greatly pained
his heart. Yet, conscious of the purity of his motives, he made
no complaint, he uttered no murmur. He was persuaded that
he had acted conscientiously, and was willing to leave the whole
matter with God. With such an array of influence, however, as
was brought to bear against him, it was but natural that he
should have been defeated. And, perhaps, it was well for him
and the Church that it was so. Defeated in the election, he
went forward quietly and faithfully in the discharge of his dutics
as Presiding Elder, laboring, as aforetime, for the upbuilding
of the Redeemer’s kingdom. From the Newark he went to the
Paterson District, where he remained from 1841 to 1844. This
closed his labors on the districts for several years. Inthe mean-
time he traveled Clinton Circuit in 1845-6, was stationed in
Morristown 1846-7, on Warren Circuit, 1847-8, Stillwater, 1848
-49, and in 1850-1 at Stanhope. And now once more, and for
the last time, he is appointed Presiding Elder. This was on the
Newtown District, where he remained from 1852 to 1855. But,
although verging on towards seventy years, he traveled through
the entire district—the hardest within the Conference bounds—
MANNING FORCE. 431

with energy and success. His labors on the district ended, and
still unwilling to desist from the active duties of his calling, he
was appointed to Cokesbury Circuit. This was his last field of
labor. At the Conference of 1857, with many regrets, both in
his own heart and among his brethren in the ministry, he took a
supernumerary relation, in which he continued until 1861, when
he became, by the law of the Church, superannuated.

But while sustaining this relation to the Church, he was un-
willing to be idle. He felt great solicitude for the welfare of the
Church in Flanders. There he had commenced his itinerant
ministry—there he had found the companion of his youth and
of his riper years—there his leisure days had been chiefly spent
during the periods of his Presiding Eldership, and while travel-
ing those circuits contiguous to it. He saw the society there
worshiping in an old, dilapidated building, and desired to see
before his departure a new and commodious church. Having
pledged himself to the trustees to see the work accomplished, he
gave from his own private funds $1000, besides devoting his
time for the purpose of collecting funds for the enterprise. The
church, a neat and beautiful building, and an ornament to the
village, was erected, also a comfortable parsonage—and both
were free from debt. This gave him great satisfaction during
the short period in which he was permitted to enjoy these fruits
of his liberality and toil. And even on his dying-bed he said,
“Well, there is a good church and parsonage in Flanders, and, I
believe, out of debt; I don’t know that there is anything more
for me to live for.”’

Thus he labored on until the summons came to call him to his
reward and rest. And what a record do the labors of such a life
furnish! Forty-five years of active ministerial and pastoral work,
searcely ever intermitted by sickness, persevered in amid dis-
couragements and difficulties almost innumerable ;—and then six
years, which, although nominally supernumerary and superan-
nuated, he spent in visiting the scenes of his former labors, and
seeking still the advancement of the cause of Christ. Fifty-one
years of the seventy-three of his life were thus spent—a little
more than half a century consecrated to Christ.

A life so devoted, we might justly conclude, would have a fit-
432 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

ting and glorious termination. And in this we are not disap-
pointed. Blessed be God! our ministers and people ‘‘ die well.”
He was taken ill while absent from home, and with difficulty ’
reached the house of an old and valued friend, John V. Van-
syckle, Esq., in Sussex Co., N. J. He had been attacked with
a general inflammation of the kidneys and bowels, and, in addi-
tion to this, the quinsy—a disease which frequently assailed him
—came upon him, which rendered his breathing and articulation
very difficult. A few days before his death he was visited by
two of the members of the Conference, Brothers Hilliard and
Nelson. ‘‘ His mind was clear, and his soul was full of rapture.”’
He said to them, ‘‘Of myself I can say nothing good. I am
less than nothing. The atonement of Christ is my trust, and it
is all-sufficient.’’ Then, as his emotions became overpowering,
he exclaimed, ‘“‘Oh the goodness of God to me! Praise the
Lord! Glory to God! I have had toil and suffering in my min-
istry, but had I my life to live over again, I should choose to be
an humble Methodist minister.’’ To his wife, who had been
hastily summoned to his bedside, he said, the day before his
death, ‘‘ Child, pray that my faith and confidence may hold out
to the end.’’ Frequently she heard him whispering, ‘‘ Precious
Jesus! Oh the atonement of Christ, my Lord!’’ With such
holy confidence and rapturous joy did this man of God, at the
close of his pilgrimage, come to his eternal rest in the heavens.
Calmly and peacefully as the child sinks to rest upon his mother’s
bosom, did he repose upon his Saviour’s breast. There were no
clouds upon his sky, casting their gloomy shadows over the cold
waters of Jordan; for the Sun of Righteousness had chased
them all away, and flooded the whole horizon with his heavenly
radiance.

Thus lived, and labored, and died the Rev. Manning Force.
And now, in attempting a brief resume of his ministry, we would
say, His life exhibits the spirit of deep, untiring devotion to the
cause of God. As we have seen, he consecrated himself to this
service in his youth. And, having ‘' put his hand to the plough,
he never looked back.’’ When he entered the itinerant ministry,
it involved no small amount of hardships and privations. But
no one ever heard him murmur or complain of sacrifices, scanty
MANNING FORCE. 433

fare, meagre support and incessant toil. He loved his work with
all its embarrassments and discouragements. His whole time
and attention were given to it. And whether he was on the cir-
cuit, or station, or district, he was day and night employed for
the extension of the Redeemer’s kingdom. Perhaps few men
have ever mingled more with the people than he. As a pastor,
he was remarkably faithful—visiting from house to house—and
in a most winning, earnest manner entreating all to come to
Christ—comforting the sick, the sorrowful and the dying, and
gathering in this way many sheaves for the garner of his Lord.
While stationed in the city of Philadelphia, he generally com-
menced his pastoral work before breakfast, in order that, at an
early period in the day, he might see all the sick. And this
fidelity to his Master and his cause he exhibited up to his last
hours. No better evidence of this could be furnished than is
found in a letter addressed to his ‘‘ beloved wife’’ only a short
time before the close of his effective ministry. This letter bears
date of January 18th, 1856, and is written from Port Jervis, in
the State of New York. He says: ‘‘No worldly emoluments
could induce me to be wandering about through rain, and snow,
and cold as Ido. But, as it is not worldly honor or wealth I am
seeking, but the salvation of souls immortal, for whom the ador-
able Redeemer suffered, and bled, and died, I can do it all cheer-
fully, without murmur or complaint. If I had not satisfactory
evidences that my unworthy labors were made a blessing to the
church and the people of the world, I should become disheart-
ened and leave the itinerant field. But while I have the unmis-
takable evidences that God crowns my efforts with his special
blessings, I feel like spending my strength in his holy cause.”
He was on his last round, on his last district, when he wrote this.
He had suffered greatly from cold and exposure in reaching his
appointments; ‘‘but none of these things moved him.”’ He
says: ‘‘I suffered more with the cold last ,week, than I have
done since last winter. I had to face the cold up the Delaware
River, on the tow-path of the Delaware and Hudson Canal, with
the snow knee-deep to my horse, and the road not broken for
about forty miles, with the thermometer from twenty to thirty de-
grees below zero.’’ So intense was the cold, that one man trav-
28
434 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

eling the same route became insensible, and was carried home
just alive—losing, however, it is said, his hands and feet. But
the ‘‘Lord blessed him with good health, and he escaped with
only a frosted face.”” This language and these exposures need
no comment. They speak for themselves.

His early ministry was eminently successful, and his entire min-
istry was a. blessing to the church. Thousands of souls from New
Jersey, Philadelphia, Baltimore and Delaware will doubtless
‘‘yise up in the last day and call him blessed,’’ and acknowledge
him as God’s instrument in their salvation. As we have seen,
for many years he was a Presiding Elder, and it is difficult for
one in this position, or in the general superintendency of the
church, to trace clearly the results of his labors. There can be
no doubt, however, that under his sermons, always preached to
crowds at his quarterly meetings, not only was the church greatly
edified, but multitudes were saved. He thus sums up the results
of his four years on the Newton district :—‘‘ The cause of God
through the instrumentality of Methodism has been constantly,
and in some places, rapidly advancing ever since my return to the
district. When I came on the district, it called for seventy-two
quarterly meetings in the year ; it now calls for 100, and next year
it will call for 104, and perhaps 108 or 112. Thus, if I live to
finish the Conference year, I shall leave the church in a peaceful
and prosperous condition. We have now several glorious revivals
in progress, several new churches under contract; and others
have been remodelled and handsomely improved. At the same
time we have paid off all the old debts on our meeting-houses,
besides building and repairing the parsonages.”’

This is certainly a cheering record for this veteran of the cross.
But statistics give only a faint and feeble idea of such a man's
labors; and never, until the records of the last day are unrolled,
will we begin to know them—while eternity only will fully
develop them. Brother Force did the Church great service, also,
in selecting and calling out young men into the work of the min-
istry. His long service as Presiding Elder gave him a fine op-
portunity for doing this, and no man ever better, or perhaps
more extensively, improved it.

Ltke Barnabas, Manning Force was eminently a son of conso-
MANNING FORCE. 435

lation.’’ He was not one of the “‘legio tonans.”” He seldom
dwelt upon the terrors of the law. But he delighted chiefly to
expatiate upon the consolatory truths of the gospel. The great
atonement of Christ he often dwelt upon with interest and
power. This, in fact, was the anchorage ground of his own
hope, and the source to which he pointed many thousands for
life and salvation. It may also be said of him as of Barnabas,
that ‘‘he was a good man; full ofthe Holy Ghost and of faith ;
and much people was added unto the Lord.’”’” Brother Force
also carefully obeyed the apostolic injunction, ‘‘Be courteous.’
He was, indeed, a fine specimen of the Christian gentleman.
This gave him great favor in the eyes of the people, and was,
doubtless, one of the reasons of his being called upon so fre-
quently, while a pastor in Philadelphia, to perform the marriage
ceremony. In his intercourse with his brethren, the law of kind-
ness was ever on his lips. We very much doubt whether any
one ever heard him speak evil of his brethren in the ministry or
laity. And if the conduct of others was animadverted upon in
his presence, he would always have something apologetic or ex-
planatory to say which would serve to shield the absent one, and
to rebuke the fault-finder or the slanderer. Hence, while he
had some enemies, he had many friends.

He was a man of wisdom and firmness in settling difficulties in
the Church.

The following illustration is furnished by Rev. J. P. Dailey:
‘*While he was traveling on Clinton Circuit, a difficulty which
had long existed between two of the members, was settled by
him as follows:—EKach of the parties claimed that a certain
amount of money was due him; and neither would be satisfied
unless it was paid. He finally obtained their consent to settle
the matter in his own way, and their joint promise to consider
the difficulty amicably and permanently settled when the claims
were met. These points gained, he took the money from his
own pocket, and paid to each one what he demanded. This
they promptly refused at first. ‘They would not take it from
Brother Force: they could not think of sucha thing.’ But see-
ing his advantage of them, he said, ‘Brethren, you have called
on me to settle a difficulty which you could not settle yourselves.
436 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

You have promised to be at peace when your claims were met.
You have agreed that I should settle this matter in my own
way,—this is my way. You must take the money, the mat-
ter is settled on your own conditions.’ They took the money,
but afterwards called on Brother Force, and made it all right.”’

He had a deep and blessed experience. While on Dover Cir-
cuit he had high spiritual enjoyments. Here, too, he writes,
‘*The Lord sanctified my soul.’’

He was a ‘‘ good minister of Jesus Christ,’ and he has left to
his family, to the church, and the world, a bright example of
devotion to Christ—of ardent piety—of Christian purity—of un-
affected humility—and of ‘‘unflinching religious integrity.”’
Then, too, when we think of the multitudes who were strength-
ened, comforted and encouraged by him—of the multitude saved
from their sins through his instrumentality—of the moral and
religious influence he exerted in the family, the community and
the church—we cannot fail to see the rich inheritance to which
we have fallen heir. And who can look upon his peaceful and
triumphant death-bed-scene, without being convinced of the re-
ality and glory of the religion of Christ? When we see him,
an old man, at the close of a long and weary pilgrimage—dying
away from home—with only a few friends hurriedly gathered
around his bed-side; and then listen to his exclamations of un-
shaken trust and confidence in the atonement of Christ, of his
assured acceptance with God, and hear his shouts of praise as
he plumes his wings for his upward flight—we must say that
Manning Force neither lived nor died in vain.

“The pains of death are past,
Labor and sorrow cease;
And life’s long warfare closed at last,
His soul is found in peace.

“Soldier of Christ! well done!

Praise be thy new employ;
And while eternal ages run,

Rest in thy Saviour’s joy.”
JOHN L. LENHART. 437

REV. JOHN L. LENHART.

Joun L. LENHART was born in Lock Haven, Pennsylvania,
October 29, 1805. Of Methodistic parentage, his early days
were favored with religious instruction, which, under the blessing
of the Holy Spirit, led him to the practice of a life of piety be-
fore he had passed the age of childhood. While yet young, he
connected himself with the church of his fathers; and, by con-
sistency of life, together with earnest efforts for the good of
others, soon attracted the attention of the society. His natural
capabilities for usefulness were good; and, at an unusually early
age, he was licensed to preach the Gospel. For several years he
exercised his gifts in the regions round about his home, increas-
ing steadily in efficiency, and also in the favorable regard of his
brethren, until in the spring of 1830, he was recommended to
the Philadelphia Annual Conference as a suitable person for the
regular work. By this body he was received on trial, and ap-
pointed to labor in ‘‘ Neck Misston,’’ situated in the lower part
of the City of Philadelphia. This appointment for so young a
man was one of severe trial. He was fresh from the country,
where the people were quiet and orderly, and here they were
mostly uncultivated and somewhat turbulent. At home, he had
been surrounded by loving and devoted Christians, while here
the people were generally irreligious and careless. But, the
zealous fervency of both his character and labors impressed them
favorably; and before he had been long among them, a consid-
erable number of people, who had heretofore cared for none of
these things, were found among his congregations as serious and
attentive listeners to the word of God. In 1831-2 he traveled
Caroline Circuit in Maryland. Here his warm and ardent nature
found congenial spirits, and the time passed in this charge, as
well as in that of Cambridge, which he traveled for the two suc-
438 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

ceeding years, were remembered by him as among the pleasantest
of his life.

In 1835, he labored, in connection with Rev. J. O. Rogers, on
Flemington Circuit, New Jersey, where his labors were emi-
nently successful in strengthening and. enlarging the society. In
1836-7, he served the church at Long Branch, where he was
perhaps one of the most popular preachers that that time-
honored society had ever received from the Conference. In
1838-9 he was stationed at Mount Holly. In this town his pul-
pit abilities attracted considerable attention from all classes of
the population; and here, also, his ministry was successful in its
grand object of winning souls. In 1840-1 he preached in Bridge-
ton, in which important county town he was greatly esteemed.
In 1842 he served the society in Camden with no diminution
of ministerial prestige or power. In 1843-4 he took charge
of Franklin Street Church in the City of Newark. Here he
zealously identified himself with all its various departments, and
filled up his two years of labor with the most active exertions for
its success. Unusual embarrassments arising from the preva-
lence of Millerism and other causes, sometimes attended the ad-
ministration of discipline while stationed here, but his fertile in-
vention always succeeded in extricating the church from such
embarrassments without serious loss.

During this time a pleasurable circumstance occurred which
afforded him more than ordinary gratification, one of a kind not
often given to a Methodist itinerant. His father, a talented lo-
cal preacher, visited and preached for him. His exercises im-
pressed favorably the energetic ladies who had charge of the
Home Missionary organization of our church, in that city, and
they tendered him an appointment in that work. Their offer
was accepted, and, as he was a widower, he established his resi-
dence with his son. Father and son lived together in the same
house, preached the gospel in the same city at the same time, in
the same denomination, and were both esteemed as able work-
men in the vineyard of the Lord.

In 1845-6 he was stationed in Cross street, Paterson. In this
place his labors were attended with great difficulties. His health
under a severe affection of the throat had long been declining, and
JOHN L. LENHART. 489

he was now never without pain. The general tone of his system
was gradually sinking, and a nervous irritability which it seemed
almost impossible to control fastened itself upon him. Words,
unintentionally abrupt, would be spoken by him, whose remem-
brance would occasion him the keenest sorrow, and almost drive
him to the determination of abandoning the ministry altogether.
After the utterance of such words he would often spend the
whole night in sleepless anguish, pacing the floor for all its weary
hours, weeping and praying, and allow himself no rest until he
had sought the forgiveness of the person to whom they had been
spoken.

It soon became evident to him that it would be impossible to
sustain longer the position of an effective minister, and he sub-
mitted to his prospective lot with sorrow and tears. Poverty
and sickness stood before him in all their hideousness, and for a
time he could not embrace them as welcome ministers of God.
The severance of the tie that bound the Conference laborers to-
gether was something he could not contemplate except with
deepest misery. But at last he accepted these sorrows as part
of God’s great plan for his salvation, and in humble dependence
upon Providence began to make his preparations for retiring
from the work, and, as he termed it, ‘‘to be laid upon the
shelf.’’ God, however, did not intend to try him so far, for just
at that time a position was offered him as chaplain in the United
States Navy. He accepted it with gratitude, and retained it
with honor until the time of his sad but noble death. He was
appointed to the Brandywine, and immediately commenced the
preparations necessary for his absence. His heart, however,
still clung to his old work, and he employed the evenings of the
intervening time between his appointment and reporting for duty
in holding a series of extra meetings in his charge, closing the
last hours of itinerant opportunity with energetic itinerant labor.
The ship was soon ordered off for a three years’ cruise in con-
nection with the Brazilian squadron, and Brother Lenhart bade
farewell to his native country and entered. upon his untried but
promising field of labor with those ‘‘ who go down unto the sea
in ships’’—the sailors of our navy. In this position he was far
from idle. He had entered it with an earnest desire to benefit
440 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

the ‘‘ sons of the ocean,”’ and opportunities to do so were abun-
dant. He possessed in an eminent degree that dignity of man-
ner so highly prized by the officers of our navy, and in conse-
quence they gave him their unqualified support in the perform-
ance of his duties, a support which, if withheld, renders a chap-
lain’s labors almost nugatory. Whenever it was possible they
attended his preaching on the Sabbath, and thus contributed
their influence over the ‘‘ tars’’ to his efforts. His familiar and
cheerful address made fast friends of the man-of-war men, while
his evident interest in both their secular and eternal welfare gave
him ready access to their hearts. He sought out those who
were religiously inclined, and put them into classes. He estab-
lished public prayer-meetings, and in every way possible on
board a ship, endeavored to interest the men in the subject of re-
ligion. He found the greatest opportunities for good, however,
in personal conversation. He had been successful in gaining
their confidence, and the confidence of a sailor, once gained, is
boundless. Often, seated beside them on their watch, he would
lead the conversation to eternal things, and amid the solemn si-
lence of the night make impressions upon their minds which, he
firmly believed, the Holy Spirit blessed to their spiritual good.
During all this time, the cultivation of his mind was not ne-
glected. His health improved rapidly, and with renewed health
came corresponding activity of the mental powers. From the
nature of ship duties, a large amount of time could not be oc-
cupied with active labor, anda great part of this time he de-
voted to the reading of solid literature, and writing upon such
themes as would best develope the intellectual power. Nor did
he neglect his spiritual nature. Much of the time was employed
in prayer. He says, ‘‘ Before I devoted such large measures of
time to it upon the boundless ocean, I never knew how much hap-
piness it could be made to give.” Ina letter to the writer he says,
‘‘Tam happy to assure you, my dear brother, I have not lost
anything, either in religious principle or enjoyment. Indeed,
sometimes [ am led to think I am making some little advance-
ment in the Divine life, for, Bless the Lord, O my soul! in my
little seven by nine room, I have often sweet access to a throne
of grace, and am enabled to rejoice in the Lord.’’ He was also
JOHN L. LENHART. 441

a close observer of the manners and customs of the people where
the vessel was stationed. At one time he had the oportunity of
a presentation to Royalty, which he thus graphically describes :
‘* Having dressed myself in proper uniform, cocked hat and all,
I accompanied a number of our officers to the Imperial Palace.
According to previous arrangement, we here met Mr. Tod, our
minister to this court. In one of its rooms, called the Diplomatic
Saloon, we found the foreign ministers, charges de affaires, consul-
generals, foreign army and navy officers, with others who had
been invited to attend this levee, all awaiting the pleasure of the
emperor to receive them. Aftersome little delay, the announce-
ment was made by the chief lord chamberlain that his Imperial
Majesty was upon the throne, and ready to receive us. General
Giddo, the Buenos Ayres minister, led the way, and Mr. Tod as
next oldest followed, and, consequently, we were among the first
who were presented. The audience chamber is, perhaps, fifty
feet long, and at the extreme end of it stood the throne, upon the
upper stepsof which the Emperor and Empress stood. On the
right of the Emperor stood a body of guards, and on the left of
the Empress a long row of wall flowers called maids of honor.

‘The room was richly furnished with drapery, chandeliers, and
lustres, while the whole court was gorgeously decorated with
diamonds. Upon entering this chamber I made my first bow to
royalty, in the person of Don Pedro II., Emperor of the Brazils.
At about midway of the room, [ made my second bow. We
then approached within ten or fifteen feet of the throne, and
waited while General Giddo made a short speech. After this
we each in turn approached ; first bowing to the Emperor and
then to the Empress, which bow they returned. And now
came the worst part of the business, which was the ‘backing
out.’ This I assure you was no small matter. But, I got out
safely, and upon the whole was pleased with my first visit to
royalty.”’

Writing of the cemetery of Gamboa, he describes it as covered
with flowers in mid-winter. This place possessed for him a pe-
culiar interest in being the last earthly resting-place of the
deceased wife of the Rev. D. P. Kidder, formerly a missionary
at that post, but at that time a member of his own Conference,
449 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

and the accomplished editor of the Sunday School Advocate.
Many hours, he states, were spent meditating among the tombs,
which he hoped were not without profit to him. In the society
of Brother Lore, our missionary to that city, he also found great
pleasure, and in preaching for him was much blessed. What
he saw of the slave-trade in that port seems to have aroused his
righteous indignation. He says: ‘‘Several slavers have been
fitting out here for the coast of Africa, intending to sail under
the stars and stripes, and commanded by American captains.
Two have been captured recently and sent home; the others are
not disposed to venture out at present. Our commodore is de-
termined to put a stop to it so far as American vessels and Ameri-
can captains are concerned. And to it I say amen with all my
heart. It is a singular fact, that the captains generally engaged
in this nefarious business are down easters, none farther south
than New York. Unless some more active measures are adopted
to suppress the trade, I should not wonder if this country be-
comes a second Hayti, for it really seems to me that there are
more blacks than whites here now, thousands of whom remain
in the most abject bondage. Surely another Moses will be raised
up when the cries of the afflicted shall have fully entered into
the ears of the Almighty.’’ While absent at sea his regard for
his conference-associates did not diminish. ‘‘If possible,’’ he
writes, ‘‘I love them better than before. During the session of
the Conference, I assure you that I felt no ordinary degree of so-
licitude. It was the first Conference from which I had been
absent for nineteen consecutive years, and the remembrance of
the fact that I no longer had an active connection with a body
of men whom I love so dearly, afflicted me sorely. But the re-
collection of the facts, that my severance from them originated
in a desire not to burden them—that in this way I could secure
a support for myself and family, while at the same time I con-
tinued to labor in the vineyard of the Lord—assisted me to bear
up under this, and even to rejoice in the kind providence which
had placed me here.’’ After three years of active service at sea,
he was relieved and appointed to the receiving ship off Staten
Island. For a-couple of years he resided in Newark, but after-
wards purchased a residence on Staten Island, which he made
JOHN L. LENHART. 443

his home for several years, taking great delight in beautifying
and adorning it. Here he would often gather his friends around
him; and, in the exercise of a generous hospitality, add largely
to the happiness of his life. He was often permitted to visit
and preach for his ministerial brethren, in which he received
rich spiritual blessings. But there is no earthly state without
its darkening shadow, and that shadow now began to brood over
his otherwise pleasant hours. The health of his wife, whom he
loved with a most devoted affection, began to manifest symptoms
of decline. All that skill and science could do for her was tried
without avail. Day by day he saw her wasting away, and slowly
but surely approaching the tomb. He would contemplate her
altered appearance with deep sadness, and say: ‘‘What are all
these blessings of Providence to me while I see my wife dying
before my eyes. Yet,’ he would continue, ‘‘I thank my
heavenly Father, that for so long a time he spared me so good
a wife.’’ His worst anticipations were realized, and although it
was a number of years after he took up his residence upon the
Island that she left him—she passed away before him to a better
land.

After an unusually long period of duty on shore, he was
ordered again to sea, and appointed to the United States ship
Cumberland. His letters now speak of deeper piety and broader
patriotism,. and evince the most complete abhorrence of the
“Slaveholders’ rebellion.’’ They speak also of a willingness to
lay down his life sooner than allow their Satanic purposes to be
accom plished—a willingness which he soon after illustrated in
the gift of that life for his country’s defence. In one of these
letters written to a friend (Rev. J. M. Tuttle) he says: ‘‘It is
just as near to my heavenly home from the old Cumberland as
from any other place.’’ In another to Rev. J. 8. Porter, he
says: ‘I indulge the hope that I may be able to meet you at
the Conference. Should I not be permitted to do so, tell the
preachers that I love them and love the work. Should I not
meet them again upon the earth, tell them I hope to meet them
in the morning. Death to the Christian is a sleep—they that
sleep sleep in the night, and the glorious resurrection will bring
us together—soul and body—once again.”’
444 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

‘In another letter he says, ‘I hope, my dear Brother Tuttle,
that I have an interest in your prayers. I wish very much to
be a devoted Christian and a useful, happy minister of the Gos-
pel of Christ. Some of our officers are praying men. Would
that all of us lived nearer to God and enjoyed more of the divine
power of godliness. I spent new year’s eve in my little room,
reading and praying. The new year found me upon my knees
pledging myself to live nearer to God, and to press with greater
ardor toward the mark for the prize of my high calling.”’

The letters also evince a strong interest in the prosperity of the
Conference. Of the decease of Rev. Manning Force he writes
mournfully and lovingly. Of the success of Brother Kelley on
Staten Island, he says: ‘‘ Who would have thought that Bethel
Church would be enlarged and beautified, and that St. Paul’s
would so soon have a new building. God bless them, and give
the church of’ our choice a wide place. The older I get the more
I love her and the more I love to love her.’’ And again: “I
am very glad to see from the Christian Advocate and Journal
that in some places in God’s heritage showers of mercy are fall-
ing. Would that a glorious revival of religion would break out
in all the churches in Newark.”’

His health had now become much enfeebled, and in view of its
condition the naval authorities tendered him the privilege of re-
turning home. Under more favorable circumstances he would
gladly have accepted it, but now he preferred to share with his
comrades the perils of their situation, and see the last of the
eventful cruise of the Cumberland. He wrote to his friends in
Newark that he felt a presentiment of speedy dissolution if he
remained, but that his honor and duty commanded him to stay,
and he must obey their voice. The Cumberland, with the other
vessels of the United States fleet, was at this time lying in Hamp-
ton Roads. The rebel steamer Virginia (formerly the Merrimac)
had been encased in iron plating and supplied with a projecting
ram which was capable of piercing and sinking any wooden ves-
sel that floated the waters.

For days the United States fleet had been in momentary ex-
pectation of her appearance, and the whole country felt a name-
less dread of the evil she might inflict. It was under these cir-
JOHN L. LENHART. 445

cumstances that the Christian patriot and minister refused to
leave his post of danger, choosing rather to suffer affliction in
serving his country and God, than to enjoy the pleasures of
home for a season. The government had made every possible
effort to finish the ‘‘ Monitor,”’ the only vessel at all likely to
successfully oppose the Virginia, but up to the day on which
the monster made its appearance in ‘‘ Hampton Roads,”’ she had
not arrived at her destination. Wooden vessels only, such as
the Congress, the Monongahela, and the Cumberland were at
the command of the government, and they were almost power-
less in such a conflict. The shoaling banks and narrow channel
which destroyed all opportunities of successful manceuvering,
added to the perilous chances against them. Still, when on that
bright morning the Virginia steamed down upon them, the battle
was not declined. The fleet rained shot and shell upon her, but
they rolled off harmlessly from her invulnerable plating. She
steamed on steadily toward the Congress—paused a moment to
receive her defiant refusal to surrender, and then plunged the
iron prow through her sides, leaving her in a sinking condition.
The Monongahela ran aground where the monster could not fol-
low. She then stood for the Cumberland, pausing as before to
demand her surrender. The Cumberland replied with a broad-
side, when the iron ram of the rebel vessel was thrust through
her timbers. A few moments more and it crashed through again,
and she began rapidly to sink. Still there was no thought of sur-
render, but she went down beneath the crimsoned waters with.
her guns firing, her broad pennant flying in the breeze, with the
stars and stripes still asserting their supremacy even in the midst
of rebel triumph. Such of the crew as were enabled to escape
did so in any manner which was most available. Some few in
boats, some upon loose planks, but the most by throwing them-
selves into the sea and swimming amid the shot and shell of the
enemy, until they were picked up by the boats or made the shore.
A large number, however, went down with the vessel, among
whom was the first ministerial martyr of the war, chaplain
John L. Lenhart.

According to the statement of Lieut. Morris, when it was an-
nounced that the ship was sinking, and the crew were directed
446 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

to escape in the best manner possible. Brother Lenhart went
below to his state-room, probably to secure some papers. It
was supposed that there was ample time for this before the ves-
sel would go under. But the orifices made in her side by the
ram were very large, and she sank rapidly. The water was al-
ready above the level of the state-room floor, and rising fast ; and
probably her careening as she went down rolled an immense vol-
ume of water against’ the door and prevented its opening.
There—prisoned by the waters in his state-room, with the roar
of battle still around him, with the groans and cries of wounded
and dying men whom he had not deserted in their hour of need
still sounding in his ears, amid the sound of the guns of the
Cumberland hurling their defiance as the vessel gasped in the
death-clutches of the sea—there he met his last enemy—alone
with it and God! For a death under such circumstances the
country inscribes his name upon its monument of heroes, and his
God upon the list of those eminent and martyred saints who
shall have part in the first resurrection.

God’s honor needed that the Church should not be silent upon
the grave questions involved in the slaveholders’ rebellion, and
also that she should give the lives of her sons in whose blood
her record might be written for the reading of after ages. And
so she gave her members by thousands, and her ministers by
scores, that the name of Jesus might be identified with the cause
of her country’s morals, and that the world might see that in
such a cause they loved not their lives in comparison with their
principles; and John L. Lenhart was honored of God, in being
selected to lead the van of the numerous ministers who have
since sealed their devotion with their blood.

Exhibitions of God’s presence and power to save in the hour
of death are not possible in a case like this, and we must look
for our evidences in the record of the life. Peaceful death-beds,
surrounded with loving Christians, whose holy sympathies and
prayers compose a spiritual atmosphere, afford facilities for such
testimonies, but a death like his forbids all revelations. Yet we
are not left to conjecture to gather his own estimate of his future
condition. His long life of Christian experience, in which there
was a constant avowal of fellowship with God,—the letters writ-
JOHN L. LENHART. 447

ten just before the battle, in which he expressed a presentiment
of approaching death,—are filled with expressions of undoubting
confidence in his spiritual prospects, and there can exist no rea-
sonable doubt that the God who was his companion in life was
present, cheering and comforting him in his lonely death. The
wreck of the old Cumberland still lies off Newport News, with
its bow toward the shore, and probably in one of its state-rooms
still remains whatever is left of the mortal frame of the brave
and noble-minded minister who went down with her, while the
spirit which animated that frame is at home in that land where
there is neither slave nor war, and where he rests from his
labors forever.

The patriotism of Brother Lenhart was absorbing. With him
it was a development of religion. He was a Democrat of the
old Jeffersonian school; but in the hearty support of his country
all political distinctions were ignored. His later letters show
this fully. In one of these he says: ‘‘Oh, when will this dread-
ful and unnatural war have an end? May the God of battles—
our heavenly Father—speed the time when rebellion shall cease,
and our beloved constitution and government be triumphantly
maintained; which I doubt not sooner or later will be the case.”’
Again he says: ‘‘I believe our government has the right and
must eventually triumph, and the Union will be preserved; but
it will be at an immense cost of money and sacrifice of life.’’

He writes thus of the croakers: ‘‘How apt people are, when
one has done well, to ask, why has he not done better? Our
fleet did well, they say, in taking Forts Hatteras and Clark, but
they ought to have gone on and taken Beaufort—altogether for-
getting that we had no troops to retain it if we had taken it.”’

He was also a prominent member of the Masonic fraternity,
and held with credit several of its prominent offices. He was
held in high estimation by that body of men both from his
ability in their craft, and the high-toned sense of honor and gen-
erosity by which he squared his life.

His domestic attachments were strong. Toward his wife he
exhibited a devotion both intense and constant. She was a wid-
owed lady at the period of her marriage to him, somewhat his
senior in years, but adorned with noble and womanly qualities
448 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

which fully justified that devotion. Her gentle dignity could dis-
arm his most impetuous moments, and lead him to the rectification
of any error. She moved among the people in an atmosphere
of meekness and love, and thus added largely to his power for
usefulness. He was never happy if she was absent from his
house, and her long affliction clouded sorrowfully the last years
of his life. At one time when the physicians had given her up
to die, and told him that a few hours would close her life—he
went to God in her behalf. He afterward said to the writer:
‘When I found how little hope there was from the physicians,
I went directly to the Lord. I paid no attention to them. I
went to God, and pleaded with Aim to spare her. I told him
that he knew I could not get along without her, and that if he
kept me here he must spare her to me: I said it humbly but
fervently, and kept the plea before him until he did spare her;
and from that hour she improved until she regained her usual
state of health.'’’ Any sacrifice on his part, which might tend
to alleviate the terrible pains of her disease, or bring even mo-
mentary relief to her suffering frame, was not deemed too great
to make; and previously to the breaking out of the war, he
several times proposed to resign his commission in the navy in
order that he might devote himself entirely to her while she re-
mained on the earth.

His grief over her loss was deep and lasting. Every letter
written afterwards, to his friends, is full of the most touch-
ing allusions to her. In one letter to Rev. J. M. Tuttle,
he says: ‘‘At times when I think of my once happy but
now desolate home, and that I am now bereft of my dear Nancy,
I am greatly depressed in spirits. However, God has thus far
sustained me, so that, whilst I sigh because of my great loss, I
do not murmur.’’ Again: ‘Often is my pillow wet with tears
because she who was the light and life of my once happy home,
has gone to return no more.”’

His warm-heartedness developed itself strongly also in his love
for children. God gave him but one child, who died in infancy,
but he cherished its memory with a fondness that only such
warm natures can understand. His ideas of heaven were always
associated with his child, and the fact of its being there was felt
JOHN L. LENHART. 449

as a strong incentive to him in struggling for the prize. A child
of Mrs. Lenhart by her previous marriage, was always treated
as if it were his own. In addition to this, he received other
orphans to his home, and the generous feelings of his soul found
a peculiar pleasure in endeavoring to compensate them for the
bereavement they had suffered. He said: ‘‘God had taken his
child away, and evidently meant by so doing, that he should sup-
ply a father’s place to others.’’ From these he always required
unquestioning obedience, while at the same time he entered into
their childish sports with all the zest of a fresh and genial na-
ture; and he is wept by them still with tears as earnest as would .
have been called forth had he been their natural protector.

In form Brother Lenhart was magisterial and imposing. His
movements were dignified and gentlemanly. His features were
dark and swarthy, and when lighted up with the enthusiasm of
his soul, harmonized grandly with the bearing of his frame.
His eyes were black and penetrating, and when on fire with his
subject, seemed to pierce the sinner through. His voice was
sweet and powerful and, especially when reading the Scriptures,
possessed a mellifluous tone which seemed to float their spirit
into the very heart of the listener. His manners were courteous
and agreeable. His physical strength was great, and his courage
equaled his strength, as lawless and disobedient men sometimes
discovered to their cost. While preaching at Long Branch on
one warm summer evening, he was seriously annoyed by the con-
duct of a number of persons who had attended for the express
purpose of disturbing the meeting. He was not of a disposition
quietly to bear this, but he politely and gently requested their
attention. They disregarded the request, and increased the dis-
order. He next desired the officiary to enforce the order of the
meeting. But the disturbers were numerous and composed of
the best fighting material on the shore, and the idea of a close
engagement with the desperadoes was not inviting. So they
sat still, with their eyes fixed upon the minister—never by any
chance looking the other way. This emboldened the men, and
the disturbance grew worse. Then he announced that if the
brethren did not enforce the rules of the meeting and preserve
order, he would do it himself. The prospect of a melee in which

29
450 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

the preacher should be engaged delighted the band, and they
redoubled their efforts to produce the desired battle. He con-
tinued to preach until, when the back of the leader, who was
standing in the aisle, was towards him, he suddenly descended
from the pulpit, twisted his fingers in the neck-band of the ruf-
fian’s shirt, tightening it till he choked him, then ran him down
the aisle, through the door, out upon the platform, and, admin-
istering a farewell kick, re-entered the church, just as the man’s
astonished companions were hurrying out to ascertain the fate
of their comrade. Nowise discomposed by the occurrence, he
ascended the pulpit again and finished his sermon. But this
was not the finale of the matter. The rioters, indignant at be-
ing so shamefully beaten,—more indignant still at the kicking
of their leader from the church by its minister,—and having a
wholesome dread of both the disgrace and danger of a personal
assault, entered a complaint against him for assault and battery,
before a justice of the peace upon whom they could depend.
Brother Lenhart appeared before the Justice’s court to answer
the charge. The memory of their defeat and the sight of their
captured foe was more than they could bear, and their rage was
almost boundless. Dire threats of vengeance were uttered,
clenched fists were flourished in his face, and it was with diffi-
culty the magistrate could restrain them from active violence.
Brother Lenhart demanded the interposition of the magistrate
for his protection, but to no purpose. ‘‘ Well,’’ said Lenhart,
‘*since you cannot protect me, I will protect myself. When you
think you are able to protect me, send for me and I will come.”
Then grasping his heavy cane in the middle of his length, he
brought it on a level with the eyes and noses of his assailants as
they stood on either side of him, when whirling it rapidly, it be-
came a matter of necessity if they would preserve those useful
appurtenances that they should ‘‘ fall back,’’ which they promptly
did, while their again victorious enemy walked quietly away,
never again to be troubled with their opposition.

At a camp-meeting near Belleville a number of men were en-
gaged in inciting a disturbance. The Presiding Elder quietly re-
monstrated with them, but to no purpose. They were informed
by him that if they persisted, the law would be enforced against
JOHN L. LENHART. 451

them. This enraged them, and one of their number, a stalwart
and powerful man, doubled his fist and aimed a blow at the El-
der. Lenhart was standing near, and quick as thought the cane
was leveled and sent with the precision of a rifle shot, striking
and felling the man senseless to the ground before his blow had
time to reach the person of Brother Porter. The man recovered
in about half an hour, humbly begged forgiveness for what he
had done, promised all kinds of future amendment, and was
soon permitted to go on his way with his head bound up, sadder
and wiser, and largely enlightened upon the different varieties
of power attendant upon a Methodist camp-meeting, and the
widely-extended gifts of the Methodist ministry.

Brother Lenhart justified the act upon the ground that the
person of his friend was in danger, and that it was his duty to
defend his friend, and no logic could convince him that the
action was not acceptable to God.

He was gifted with a large share of wit and humor, which was
often made available in the affairs of the church. Sometimes
when the trustees were passing the collection baskets, he would
insist that each person who had been sleeping during the services
should contribute at least ten cents, instead of the customary
penny, as the church could not be expected to furnish lodgings
and preaching both for the same price she did preaching alone.
In matters of church discipline also it would often manifest
itself in an unexpected manner. Among other incidents of his
life he one day related to the writer the following. In one of the
earlier charges of his ministry, the members of the church al-
most universally neglected the class meeting service. He
preached about it in public, he prayed about it in private, he
urged it upon them in personal exhortation but all to no purpose.
They heard him respectfully, always promised amendment, and
then neglected precisely as before. At last almost in despair,
he penned a note to each of the absentees, marked it private and
confidential, and sent it to them. The note simply stated that
there were certain reports affecting their characters, about which
he desired to see them at his house at two o’clock on a specified
day. When the hour arrived every one was there in one room
together. Each regarded the other with suspicion as somehow
452 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

implicated in his difficulties, and as a consequence conversation
was at a discount. He allowed them to sit for about half an
hour in gloomy silence before he entered the apartment. Gravely
and solemnly he asked them if a note had been received from him
requesting their presence. All responded in the affirmative,
wondering what would come next. He then, turning the key in
the lock of. the door, and putting it in his pocket, told them,
that he thought it proper to explain, that the reports alluded to
in his notes, were not directed against their moral, but religious
character. The leader had reported to him that they habitually
neglected their classes, and it was now his duty to ascertain the
truth or falsity of such reports. Hach one, in turn, admitted their
truth.

_ He next stated that the Discipline made it the duty of the
leader under such circumstances to call their attention to the
neglect, and asked if it had been done. This was also admitted.
He then told them that the Discipline made it obligatory upon
the, preachers to urge the duty upon them. They confessed that
this had been attended to. He then informed them that there
was but one thing more left to do, which was to proceed to try
them for their contumacy, and inflict upon them the penalties
of the church, which he was now about to do.

He selected five of the most derelict, and informed them that
they were a committee to try the rest. One peremptorily de-
clined, upon the ground that he was not competent, as he had not
been to class in five years. Another remarked that the commit-
tee were the most guilty of all. Brother Lenhart reminded
them of the adage, ‘‘ Set a rogue to catch a rogue,’’ and insisted
that they were the proper persons.

By this time the lurking smile around his mouth betrayed
him, and they all saw that in this humorous manner they were
receiving a most unmerciful castigation for their evasion: of a
rule they had solemnly promised to observe. Then after a
tender, pleading prayer, he dismissed them, most of them with
tears pledging themselves to a performance of their duties, anda
goodly number kept the pledges which they there made.

When the writer was associated with him at Paterson and Red
Mills, many persons were reported by their leaders as willfully
JOHN L. LENHART. 453

and repeatedly neglecting their class. ‘‘Well,’’ said Brother
Lenhart, ‘‘turn them over to me and I will form a new class of
them, and lead it myself.’ This was accordingly done, and he
opened a book with their names upon it, and himself as leader.
Perhaps he would meet one of its members in the street, sur-
rounded by ungodly associates, and begin at once to question
him about his experience. An effort would be made to evade
it and talk about something else, but he would cling to the ques-
tion until he had extracted what little he had to say about
his spiritual condition. After which he would give such ad-
vice as he deemed suitable. Then he would state to him that
he had been transferred to his class, and he would be glad to
receive the amount of his class subscription. Surprise would
be expressed at the change of classes, especially as it had
never been requested. The reply would be, that it was sup-
posable there must be some objection either to the leader or
class-mates as his attendance with them had ceased; and, as it
was uot likely there was any objection to him, he had been
placed upon his class. Vehement protestations of regard for
the old class would follow without however producing any effect.
Finally they would ask where his class met, when he would be
informed that it was called the street class, and met generally in
the street, or if not there, then anywhere where he happened to
find a member, unless indeed the member preferred a regular at-
tendance upon the old class, in which case he would transfer him
back again. The prospect of being questioned in every company
about an experience of which very little was possessed, was more
than could be borne; and in every case solemn promises to
faithfully perform the duties were given, and many of them
were as faithfully kept.

In personal character he was impulsive, but his impulses were
founded upon correct principles of religion; and when they ran
beyond legitimate hounds, it was generally upon the generous
side. Ouce convinced that they had Jed him wrongly, he was
as quick in atonement as in error. Any kindness done to him
was sure to be repaid with interest. He experienced almost a
childish delight in making others happy, and many a dollar
sorely needed by himself was spent in relieving the wants of
454 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

others. His general deportment was cheerful—some thought
too cheerful. But those who knew him best knew the depth of
the controlling spiritual influences which gave him fellowship
with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. Probably with
his temperament, had he possessed less.of cheerfulness, he
would have been less effective as a minister. ;

In his habits he was orderly and methodical, always having
stated times for stated things. In appearance he was never
otherwise than neat. Soiled apparel or unblacked boots were
in his eyes a crime. Never over dressed but always well dressed,
he was in this respect a model for his younger brethren in the
ministry.

In his friendship he was both ardent and constant. Once a
friend always a friend. He always placed himself’ at the service
of a friend, ready to illustrate his professions of attachment in
his deeds.

As a preacher, he was above mediocrity. His natural advan-
tages of appearance and voice were only supplementary to solid
logical thought. ‘I'he arrangement of his sermons was simple—
generally textual, and always embodied some central, powerful
principle. His voice was frequently overflowing with emotion,
and an almost inexpressible tenderness would then bathe his au-
dience in tears. Often the baptism of the Holy Spirit would be
poured upon his soul in preaching, until men felt that he
spake as he was moved of the Holy Ghost. The writer heard
him preach at a camp-meeting, where, during the delivery of the
sermon, the Divine power was realized in an extraordinary man-
ner, and where he was so overcome by the afflatus, that at the
close of the sermon he was unable either to stand or sit, but lay
in the preacher’s tent, shouting, weeping, and rejoicing, exclaim-
ing, ‘‘Who would have believed that the Lord could have
blessed so unworthy a minister as me in so wonderful a manner ?”’

His sermons always aimed at immediate effects. No matter
how abstruse the general subject of his discourse, he compelled
it to strike heavy blows at the sinfulness of men or the inconsist-
encies of Christians, while at the same time it urged the neces-
sity of immediate repentance, and the privilege of immediate
holiness. His election by his brethren to represent them in the
JOHN L. LENHART. 455

General Conference, and the occupany of several prominent ap-
pointments in the Conference are fair proofs of their estimation
of his mental ability and pulpit talents.

Take him all in all, he was a man to be loved and a workman
who needed not to be ashamed. The Church feels that in his
death she has lost a valuable servant, and his friends mourn his
loss with a deep and abiding sorrow. But they look for the time
when the sea will give up her dead and both Church and friends
wiil honor and love the patriot martyr who sleeps now beneath
the blended flags of his country and the cross, but who will then
arise to everlasting life with them at the right hand of the
Father.
456 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

REV. SYLVESTER ARMSTRONG.

THE native place of this talented Christian minister was
Greenfield, Saratoga Co., N. Y., and the date of his birth, July
7, 1825. His history previous to his conversion cannot be given.
Nor can the precise time be named, when he entered upon the
experiences and services of the Christian life. But that he did
heartily embrace the Saviour and become largely imbued with
the love of God and the spirit of the gospel, his character and
course as herein portrayed, fully attest. He once said that at
the time he sought religion, the Spirit clearly witnessed to his ac-
ceptance with God, but he still felt a strong desire for some con-
firmatory token of the reality of the change. His daily labor
was so exhausting that the rest of the night did not relieve him
from a sense of weariness. He therefore prayed that if what he
experienced was a true conversion, he might be thus relieved on
the ensuing morning. The time arrived, and the usual sense of
enervation was gone. He believed that the desired token was
vouchsafed, and never after had any doubt of his acceptance with
God.

In 1852 he entered the Troy Conference as a probationer, but -
after a ministry of two years, concerning which we have no ac-
count, he again retired to secular life. In 1855 he took charge
of the church at Passaic, N. J., under the direction of the Pre-
siding Elder. At the close of the year he was received by the
N. J. Conference, and returned to the same place. The next
year he was stationed at Flemington, and when the Newark Con-
ference was formed in 1857 his field of labor placed him in con-
nection with that body. He regularly passed to membership in
the Conference and to deacon’s and elder’s orders. His subse-
quent appointments were; 1858 and 1859, Mendham; 1860,
West Bloomfield ; 1861, Franklin St., Newark ; 1862, Plainfield.
SYLVESTER ARMSTRONG. 457

Here his earthly life and labors were finished, and though the
account of them is very briet' and meager, yet all that we have
to add can best be given in connection with an estimate of his
character and abilities.

Sylvester Armstrong was a man of marked characteristics, and
had he been favored with a liberal education and a vigorous con-
stitution, he would undoubtly have taken high rank among
the intellectual celebrities of his day. His powers of perception,
classification and deduction, together with his strong moral sense,
led him to take clear and controlling views of moral evil where-
ever he found it. To it he felt a mortal repugnance that im-
pelled to the attack at every opportunity, and that allowed him
to show it no quarter in any of its forms, or in connection with
whomsoever it might stand associated. This led him into many
collisions, some of which were not a little sanguinary and unplea-
sant. The natural result common in such cases, followed as a
matter of course; he made warm friends and bitter enemies.
Those who held like sentiments greatly admired the ability with
which he advocated them, and cordially ranged themselves with
him, and even many who did not approve his whole course,
could but admire his skill, fearlessness and unswerving fidelity ;
while such as felt that their moral delinquencies and bad affini-
ties were depicted and exhibited by his keen criticisms and
scathing sarcasms, responded in bitterresentments. He was not
distinguished in the pulpit by emotional manifestations. But
his clear, ringing voice which was well cultivated and controlled,
gave unusual-power to his comprehensive expositions and forci-
ble arguments. He took a wide range in his themes of discourse.
He mainly dwelt upon the fundamental doctrines of the gospel,
in the portrayal of which he employed a careful analysis of the
word of God, interpreted in the light of a personal Christian expe-
rience. He also dealt with topics, which, by many, are thought
to be out of place in the pulpit, such as the citizen’s relations to
civil affairs, the obligations of patriotism, the ethics of politics
and of slavery. On a Saturday evening while stationed in
Newark, he announced in a city journal that on the next even-
ing he would preach on, ‘‘Christ, not cotton, the Nation’s
King.’’ This may be taken as a specimen of the special themes
458 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

he was wont to discuss. He evinced considerable familiarity
with American civil history. He also took a deep interest in
public affairs, not from the motives and impulses of the partizan,
but from an abiding conviction that both the interests of religion
and humanity are closely connected with the conduct of civil
matters. He eminently displayed qualities, which, under
other circumstances, would have made him a popular political
orator.

His earnestness knew no bounds but the measure of hisstrength.
His convictions were of the most positive character, and on what-
ever subject his opinions were formed, they were strongly held.
His feelings became intensely enlisted on the side of right, and
against wrong, whenever he came in contact with either. He
had a vivid sense of the sacred character of his calling and the
grandeur of his work, believing that preaching the gospel is the
great instrumentality by which a lapsed world is to be restored.
And then the frail body that he was doomed to carry, helped him
to see that the time is short, and that what his hands found to
do must be done with his might. Hence preaching with him
was no mere pastime. And as he saw sin stalking abroad with
brazen face and impudent mien, intrenched behind law, fostered
by those in the high places of trust and influence, sustained by
wicked combinations, holding the masses in its iron grasp and
hastening them to perdition, his soul yearned with longing de-
sire to snatch them as brands from the burning, and to break
the fetters by which they are enslaved. In order to this he
dealt with the wrongs that most concerned his hearers, and tried
to convince and lead them to better views and practices. And
he so saw the great issues at stake and felt the responsibilities
of his mission, that he could but be intensely earnest, and was
usually impelled to an extent of exertion that resulted in much
exhaustion. And as his great aim was practical efficiency, he
sought in each discourse, and by each word, and look, and
gesture, to accomplish some distinct object. If the theme was
repentance, faith, the Christian life, the sin of drunkard making,
of slavery, or whatever else, he employed his whole power in his
effort to make out the case in hand, and as he had a ready com-
mand of language he used but few pointless words. His talents
SYLVESTER ARMSTRONG. 459

both as a thinker and a speaker were far above the average, and
he was especially effective in argument and asa debater. When
free enough from pain and in his best frame of mind, his elo-
quent periods had a thrilling effect, and will long be remembered
by those who heard him. When in such a mood his clear,
pointed, original thought, flowed in a stream of well-chosen
words that seemed to know neither obstruction nor exhaustion.
Whatever discussion engaged his powers, was treated with the
ability of a master, and whether his hearers agreed with him or
not, all were ready to acknowledge that the subject was ably
handled.

Fearlessness and fidelity were conspicuous traits of his charac-
ter. He did not confer with flesh and blood in any exigency
thatinvolved the welfare of the church, the honor of the gospel or
the good of mankind. He did not shrink from a bold utterance
of the truth, from a regard to consequences personal to himself.
He believed in humanity, and that the gospel is hostile to all un-
righteousness. He also believed in progress, and that God's
truth is the invincible foe of every wrong and selfish prejudice
and practice, and the grand revolutionizer of men’s hearts, of
society and of the world. And thus believing, he spoke, and
while for thus speaking, storms raged around him, and the evils
assaulted, resisted to the death, he never on that account,
swerved from a manly, steady and fearless exposure of whatever
could not bear the light of truth. Some of the officers and
members of the churches he served, thought he brought im-
proper things into the pulpit. But impelled by a sense of duty,
bring them there he would at all hazards, and denounce them
too, and ina way that would make his opponents wince. In a
certain charge he was threatened with removal at the end of the
first year, parties absented themselves from his ministry,
earnest protests were urged that neither their congregations nor
finances could be kept up under such a bold and unusual style
of preaching. But neither threats nor importunities turned him
aside, nor yet the fact, that heavy trials thus fell to his lot. Not
that he was indifferent, either to popular favor or the interests
of the church, but personal considerations were held in abeyance,
while he believed the proper work and ultimate good of the church
460 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

were thus promoted. In the spirit of a true reformer, and a
noble hero did he make all things bend to the will of God, as he
understood it, and bravely fought life’s great battle, till, in the
meridian of his noble powers, he fell at his post, with the scars
of battle fresh upon him, an unflinching and triumphant warrior
for the right.

Such was the malignity he encountered that he was indicted,
a short time before his death, by the grand jury of Union Co.,
because of certain relations he bore to a public meeting at New
Providence. Two conclaves, representing different political
opinions, were assembled near together, and each addressed by
speakers of its own choice. A collision occurred during the
evening, between the two parties, and though Mr. Armstrong
rendered important service in restraining the violence of the ex-
cited throng, he, with several other supporters of the measures
of the Government, was held to answer the charge of violating
the public peace. The case excited much solicitude, but closed
with a verdict of acquittal by the jury. On the evening of his
return home from the court-house, his Plainfield friends, from
the several denominations of the place, gathered at the parson-
age to express their approval of his course, and sympathy with
him in his persecutions and afflictions, in a testimonial of cheer-
ing words and a sum of money. Worn and feeble, herose from
his bed to receive them, and then and there declared that he
would fearlessly utter the truth as long as he should be able to
speak.

His manner would sometimes lead a stranger to infer that he
was austere and exacting, but this impression was dispelled by
acquaintance. While he claimed the largest liberty for him-
self, he freely accorded the same to all others, and never allowed
his friendships to be disturbed by differing opinions. <A stern
appearance covered a generous nature, a kind and genial heart.
He was ever ready to aid in relieving the needy and in helping
every deserving cause, his benevolent promptings often leading
him beyond his means. He loved society. His hospitalities
were cordially extended, and many are the recollections of plea-
sant hours spent with him at his house and his board by his
brethren and friends. At such times he would unbosom him-
SYLVESTER ARMSTRONG. 461

self to them in the unreserved fullness and frankness of a genuine
confidence and affection. He wascertainly one of the most kind,
open and generous of men. The impress of his noble, Christian
character remains vividly upon the hearts of those who enjoyed
his friendship. To many, the name of Sylvester Armstrong
will ever be suggestive of some of the most kindly and loveable
traits that adorn sanctified human nature, and long will his
memory live redolent with the fragrance of undying virtue.

But a few days elapsed between the close of the exciting liti-
gation above referred to, and the end of his earthly career. He
encountered the final foe with sublime confidence and compo-
sure. He watched life’s failing currents as they slowly ebbed
away, and kept feeling his pulse to ascertain the progress with
which death invaded the citadel of life. He said he had faith-
fully preached the truth, and all he had to regret concerning his
ministry, was that he hadnotlabored more asa pastor. He de-
clared, ‘‘all is well,’’ repeated the sweet verse beginning, ‘‘ Jesus
the name that charms our fears,’’ and as a victorious conqueror,
passed from the toils and struggles of his militant life to the
endless triumphs of the church of the first-born in heaven. He
died on the morning of January 7th, 1863, in the thirty-eighth
year of his age, and tenth of his itinerant ministry.

But he being dead yet speaketh, for the echoes of his voice
still ring eloquently in many ears, and the impression of his pe-
culiarly earnest, uncompromising and able ministry, yet lingers
in many hearts. Had he lived till now he would have greatly
rejoiced to witness the widening sway and brightening triumphs
of truths, for which he battled with the intrepidity of a hero to
the end. But though he is gone, the truth lives and shall live
forever.

N. B. The above memoir was enlarged from one kindly fur-
nished by Rev. John Atkinson, of Newark Conference, whose
services are hereby gratefully acknowledged.
462 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

REY. JAMES LONG.

Ir is painful to sketch the life of a useful and aged minister,
when the material of which that sketch should be composed is
almost inaccessible. Thé heroes of the battle-field receive me-
morials from their country, and the soldiers of the cross deserve
no less remembrance. But in the paper here presented, such a
recognition of the power and usefulness of James Long as would
be worthy of the man, is an impossibility. His cotemporaries
have nearly all passed away. The few who remain can remem-
ber but few of the incidents of his career. His diary, upon
which his friends relied with confidence for the facts from which
to illustrate his life, and to which he always referred them when
questioned as to his history, was lost or destroyed. And his life,
undoubtedly rich in early Methodistic incidents, occurring at a
period which is now the classic age of our church, must be given,
if given at all, in so meager a shape as to’fail in fairly represent-
ing his status in the ministry.

James Long was born in the town of Enniskillen, Fermanagh
County, Ireland, September 27, 1789. At the early age of nine
years he experienced the saving power of the Gospel, and con-
nected himself with the Methodist society. While yet a youth,
he became a local preacher, and exercised his gifts in his native
county with acceptability and usefulness. At the age of twenty-
six, he immigrated to this country, and sought immediately to
connect himself with the church, rightly esteeming her safe-
guards to be the surest protection of a stranger in a strange land.
At St. George’s, Philadelphia, he found kindred spirits, and re-
alized from their communion all that spiritual aid and comfort
for which his soul constantly thirsted. Of the four years suc-
ceeding his arrival in this country little is known, except that by
consistency of life and depth of experience he grew in favor with
JAMES LONG. 463

his brethren; while at the same time, the exercise of his gifts
impressed them with the belief that the Lord designed him for
more extensive labors in the grand field of gospel effort; and in
1820 he was recommended by them to the Philadelphia Confer-
ence, by whom he was received and sent to Essex and Staten Is-
land Circuit in New Jersey. These early days were full of toils
and sacrifices to the itinerant Methodist preacher, and none bore
them more uncomplainingly or cheerfully than the now sainted
Father Long. The communities among which he preached had
accepted quite generally the more repulsive doctrines of ‘‘ High
Calvinism,’’ and against those doctrines he directed his attacks
in a mode so novel and yet so simple that they were entirely
swept away from the minds of many of his hearers. He would
announce the doctrine, and then proceed to tell what the Scrip-
ture had to say about it. Line after line, verse after verse, par-
agraph after paragraph, occupying sometimes almost the entire
sermon, was poured out before them until their creed was made
to appear in perfect antagonism to such masses of Scripture
truth as to render confutation impossible, and the labor of its
attempt more than they were willing to assume. After a year
of active effort here, he was appointed to New Mills Circuit,
where he labored, though among a different community, as zeal-
ously as before. In 1822 he was received into the Conference,
ordained a deacon, and in connection with the Rev. Edward
Page, appointed to Trenton Circuit. He had been married the
winter previous to Miss Ann McLaughlin of Mount Holly—a
worthy and estimable lady—and now with his colleague and
family occupied a house in Crosswicks. Parsonages were not
very numerous in that day, nor were the means of furnishing
them very largely at the command of the preachers. The best
that could be done was to secure one small house for both the
preachers. Brother Page and family occupying the lower, while
Brother Long and wife dwelt in the upper story of the building
—room enough, probably, for the furniture they possessed. But
the pleasant family associations more than compensated the in-
conveniences—and a year long remembered with pleasure in
their history was passed by both these families.

He next traveled Caroline Circuit, in Maryland. Here his
464 _NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

life was saddened by the loss of his young wife, who was seized
with a malignant fever, and after an illness of a few days died,
leaving to his care an infant daughter. This child is still living,
and resides at Allentown, New Jersey. His next appointment
was Cecil Circuit; following that, Milford and Smyrna, in Dela-
ware, then Hamburgh and Warren, in New Jersey; afterward
Milford and Bristol, in Pennsylvania; then Asbury, Freehold,
Crosswicks and Gloucester, in New Jersey. At the General Con-
ference of 1836, the State of New Jersey, together with some
slight portions of New York and Pennsylvania, were set off from
the Philadelphia and erected into the New Jersey Annual Con-
ference. In this last-named division of the work Father Long
was stationed at the time, and remained during the rest of his
life. The first session of this Conference was held in Newark,
from which he was appointed to Haddonfield Circuit, where he
did good service for the cause. Following in regular succession,
were Middletown, New Egypt, Tom’s River. Tuckerton, Swedes-
boro’, Woodbury, Gloucester, and lastly Salem circuits, in all
of which he labored with indefatigable zeal, and with success.

In 1851, after an effective ministry of over thirty years, he
was—sorely against the wish of his heart—made supernumerary.
But age and excessive labor had weakened the powers of his
frame, and, while the desire to work for God burned with as in-
tense a heat as ever before, his infirmities left him no choice,
and he reluctantly gave place to younger officers in the Method-
istic army, and continued on the list of either supernumerary or
guperannuated ministers until the time of his decease.

He died at the house of his son-in-law, Mahlon Poinsett, Esq.,
near Imlaystown, N. J., on January 13th, 1863. His life had
been extended to nearly seventy-four years, and all but the first
nine passed in active connection with the Church of God,
and those nine years were probably filled with such religious ac-
tivities and experiences as were consonant to his age and oppor-
tunities, so that it might be said with truth, he had spent his
life in the service of his God. Such a life might be expected to
close in calm and peaceful hope. And those expectations were
fully realized. Brother Edwards writes of his last hours, ‘‘ It
was my privilege to occasionally visit him, and invariably I found
JAMES LONG. 465

him resting on that atonement which for so many years had been
the theme of his ministry. The immediate cause of his death
was a fall, in which he had fractured a limb, besides receiving
serious internal injuries. Strange to say, however, he suffered
but little, and sank steadily and calmly into the arms of death.
Just before he departed he said to his daughter, ‘From the
hour of my conversion until now I have never doubted my ac-
ceptance with God,’ and then passed away to the regions of the
blest.”’

He was a man whose life was especially devoted to work. He
traveled in every county of New Jersey except two, besides ex-
tensive labors in other States.

In the meekness and simplicity of his manners Father Long
was a pattern to the Church. Thesweetand childlike addresses
made by him in the Conference when his aged lips uttered his
sentiments upon some subject which was before them, or else
detailed his experience of the power of God to save from sin, are
still remembered lovingly by his brethren in the ministry.
Guileless as an infant himself, he suspected no guile in others,
and was perhaps as perfect an illustration of the charity that
thinketh no evil as could easily be found. His religion reflected
a pure life among his fellow-men, and those of them who knew
him best bear testimony to the eminent Christian holiness of
his character. In pastoral intercourse with the people the same
simplicity and godliness were manifest. His conversation was
tinctured with religion, his spirit sweet and agreeable, and his
prayers fervent, breathing out the fullest desire for the well-being
of the household. He was especially fond of children. Their
bright, glad faces were always welcome, and it was his delight
to converse with and instruct them in those gospel truths which
he desired should influence their future lives. Many men and
women still remember his godly admonitions, and account them
among the influences which afterward led them to God.

As a preacher he was plain and unpretending. His principal
study was the word of God, and in the pulpit it was almost his
only weapon. Chapter and verse were always at command and
given to his auditors in profusion. So thoroughly was his
memory stored with its language, that at Haddonfield his hear-

30
466 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

ers styled him a ‘‘ walking concordance.” He attacked an op-
ponent with Scripture, his own positions were defended by
Scripture, he solved all doubts by Scripture, he consoled Chris-
tians with Scripture, and unbelief was demolished with the same
powerful weapon. An illustration of his manner is given by
Rev. E. H. Stokes, upon whom the venerable brother called one
morning, and after lamenting the low state of religion in a par-
ticular church, and stating various erroneous habits into which
the people had fallen, proceeded to say, ‘‘ that they sat up when
they prayed.’’ ‘‘ And Brother,’’ said he, ‘‘I can prove by for-
ty-two distinct passages of Scripture that is not the position to
occupy in prayer.’’ But he has gone, leaving the record of a
blameless life and peaceful death asa precious heritage to his
family and Church.
GEORGE W. BATCHELDER. 467

REV. GEORGE W. BATCHELDER, A. M.

“Oh! he was fair, on earth a while
He dwelt; but transient as a smile
That turns into a tear,
His beauteous image passed us by ;
He came, like lightning, from the sky,
He seemed as dazzling to the eye,
As prompt to disappear.”

INSPIRATION has lifted up its voice, exclaiming with solemn
emphasis, ‘‘The flower fadeth.’”” How we feel this truth!
The flowers all fade. Not one of the vast bright family, whether
it smiles in the valley, or blooms on the mountain, whether it
rejoices by the river, or expands in the forest, whether nur-
tured by the hand of poverty, or gracing the grandeur of palace
halls, but is short-lived, frail and perishing. :

Sad that things so beautiful should be so brief, and yet, per-
haps, because so brief, they are sobeautiful. Flowers have their
mission, to inspire exalted sentiments, to call forth admiration
for the beautiful, to awaken love. How much like the flowers,
are many lives, brief, but beautiful! Weare about to record the
narrative of such a life; a life which, like the flowers, had its
high and holy mission; filling the social atmosphere with the
rich fragrance of piety, inspiring exalted sentiments, calling
forth admiration for the true and beautiful in nature and grace ;
awakening love for God and man; then, like the flower, falling
from the stem, leaving the chill and gloom of life’s sorrowful
autumn on the soul, and yet, even in death, producing immortal
longings for that land, where the leaf shall not wither, and the
flower never fades.

George Washington Batchelder, son of George W. and Eliza
Batchelder, was born in the season of flowers, which through all
his life he so much loved, June 15th, 1836.
468 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

Philadelphia was his birth-place, but the years of his early
childhood were spent at Moorestown, Cross Roads, and Medford,
Burlington Co., N. J.

At the latter place, when he was eight years old, the writer
became acquainted with him. He was then of full height for
his years, but pale and slender, with a finely developed head,
covered with long, light and gracefully curling hair. Neither
shy nor bold, his countenance and manners were frank, while
his soft blue eyes always beamed with love. He was a child of
intense affection, loving his parents and an aunt, residing with
them, almost to idolatry.

But parental precept and example, aided no doubt, by the
Divine Spirit, had already taught him, there was a Being above
all earthly friends who claimed his heart, and so, when only
seven years old desired his name recorded upon a class-book
where, week after week, in company with his parents or aunt,
he expressed his childish longings to be good.

Talent soon began to develope. One of his early teachers
says, ‘‘ Foremost among those of my charge who enlisted my
sympathies, was George W. Batchelder, a fair-haired modest
boy, who with a younger brother, occupied a seat near me on my
right, always neat, smiling and attentive. Seldom was there a
day passed without something being added to the storehouse of
knowledge which he had thus early commenced accumulating
for future usefulness.

“He often preferred remaining by my side, asking questions
and receiving explanations, while others were enjoying the re-
cess in noisy play. When an exhibition of the Sabbath-school,
to which we were both attached, was about to take place, it de-
volved on me to hear him rehearse his pieces.

‘* Never shall I forget the anxiety he manifested to catch the
tone and manner, and the lightening up of countenance when
these efforts met with approbation.’’

Early in 1847, when George was between ten and eleven
years old, the writer, then stationed at Gloucester City, sent for
father and son to visit him at that place. The occasion was a
Sabbath-school missionary meeting. (George wasto speak. His
voice, soft, clear, and somewhat plaintive, terminating in a
GEORGE W. BATCHELDER. 469

slight lisp, had, on that account, a ten-fold interest. He arose
before the crowded audience with graceful modesty, holding in
his hand a small copy of the word of God, and delivered a poem,
entitled, ‘‘ My Mother’s Bible.’’ So touching were the senti-
ments, and so tender the tones of his voice, as he clasped the
volume to his bosom, exclaiming,

“She dying gave it me,”

that many wept. When the youthful orator beheld the effect
which his speaking had produced, the fountains of his own heart
were touched, and speaker and people both were bathed in
tears.

In the spring of 1847, his parents removed to Burlington, N.
J., where his opportunities for mental and spiritual culture were
enlarged, and he diligently improved them.

Here, when only twelve years old, during the pastorate of
Rev. C. H. Whitecar, he bowed an humble penitent at the foot
of the cross, seeking salvation, and united as a probationer with
the church of Christ.

It was not until the eleventh of February, 1850, however,
under the ministry of Rev. D. W. Bartine, that he obtained a
clear evidence of pardoned sin, and an adoption into the family
of God.

Two months after his conversion, when not yet fourteen years
old, he wrote, and entered into the following solemn covenant.

“T, George W. Batchelder, this Sunday evening, April 27th,
now make a covenant with God, that I will try, through his assist-
ing grace, to devote myself wholly to His cause, to set an example
to those around me, and never give up trying to serve him while
this paper lasts. Hereafter I consecrate myself to Him, asking
God’s divine blessing upon me for ever; and, O God, fit me for
any part of Thy service which Thou seest I am capable of filling.
Amen. I here promise never to leave my God while this paper
lasts. Sealed with God’s divine blessing, and, I trust, my ever-
lasting consecration to Him.

“Amen. Amen. Amen. God help!
Gerorce W. BaTCHELDER.

“Burlington, N. J., April 27th, 1850.”
470 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

This paper is still in good preservation, and how he kept his
promise this narrative will reveal, and those acquainted with
him know.

He developed rapidly. Not that he possessed the gravity or
the wisdom of advanced life. He was a youth, with the feelings of
others of his age ; but his whole life was so controlled by Chris-
tian grace and principle, that his mental and spiritual growth
was rapid.

Dr. Joseph Parrish, who knew him well, and loved him as a
younger brother, says, ‘‘When he was a boy, at work in his
father’s shop, there shone from his quiet life a gentle spirit, the
memory of which still lingers about me like the sweet fragrance
of a morning in spring. He often came to me for counsel, but
there was a beautiful consistency in his own example which al-
ways counseled me.”’

On his fifteenth birth-day he commenced a journal, which he
kept with few interruptions to the time of entering the ministry.
At that important period, it is much to be regretted, his journal
ceased. This youthful production, while we may not be able to
make many extracts from it, is interesting, from the fact that it
shows his interior life with such wonderful transparency that we
see to the very depths of his soul. All he thought, and all he
did, seems to be recorded. To surviving friends it is a subject
of profound gratitude, that in looking through this glass to his
inner nature, we discern a guileless spirit, refined and elevated
by intense longings after God.

Whatever the occupation of the day,—whether at work with
his father, or engaged in the amusements usual to his years, in
company or alone—whether flushed with the bright hopes of
youth, or depressed by the frequent embarrassing circumstances
of life, and the pains inflicted by a frail constitution—how much
he worked and how much he played—how much he walked for
pleasure, and how much he went to meeting to pray,—all were
set down with beautiful simplicity; and he closes up every day
with regrets for any failures or omissions of duty, devoutly ask-
ing God to make him wiser and better for the morrow. These
are not the occasional, but the continual aspirations of his heart.
To whatever page we turn, or wherever the eye may rest upon
that page, the day is closed with God.
GEORGE W. BATCHELDER. 471

‘Early in his journal he adopted the motto, ‘‘ Integrity, Indus-
try, Economy,’’ and his life was an exemplification of these traits
of character.

At an early day he exhibited a rare love of books. Histories,
biographies, and scientific works, such as came within the grasp
of his intellect, were read with an eagerness which showed his
intense thirst for knowledge.

The life of that distinguished servant of God, John Summer-
field, made a deep impression on his mind. Occupied with
thoughts of his saintly life and successful ministry, he closed his
record for December 4th, 1851, with this brief prayer, ‘* Oh for
the eloquence of Summerfield !’”’ a prayer which, as we shall see
in the course of this narrative, was, in the estimation of compe-
tent judges, answered in a large degree.

Believing the position he occupied at home was not his proper
sphere, in his sixteenth year, with the approval of his parents, he
entered the drug store of Mr. Roberts, inSalem, N. J. Howhe felt
as he started for his new situation, isrecorded in his journal thus :—
“The Lord has guided me, and He will protectme. Iam about
leaving the paternal roof to seek a living in the wide friendless
world. I have no friend, O God, but Thee. Oh guide me;
keep me from stepping into the ways of sin and Satan. Fare-
well, friends, home and kindred.”” He refers to the same sub-
ject in one of his sermons,—‘‘ When you cross the mystic bridge
that starts from the threshold of home, followed by tearful eyes
and the echo of low farewells, you enter a wilderness alone.”’
With this feeling of heart desolation, and his habitual piety, it
is not surprising that in this trying hour he should make this re-
newed and unreserved committal of himself to God.

While at Salem, he heard Rev. Mr. Vandewater present the
claims of Dickinson College. Listening to his statements, the
ever-present desire for knowledge was so strengthened that he
wrote, ‘‘ Jam determined to have learning, school or no school.”

After a trial of seven months in the drug store, where he was
highly esteemed for his many virtues, it was the mutual conclu-
sion of father, employer, and himself, that his love of books was
so strong as likely to interfere with successful business life, and
the engagement was dissolved.
472 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

Returning to Burlington, he longed for school, but as his
father was unable to do all that was desirable in that direction,
George agreed to work during the interval of school hours, and
so bear his own expenses.

With this arrangement his heart was full of joy, and the morn-
ing he took his books under his arm and started for school, he
heads his journal with this brief, but triumphant exclamation ;
‘“* LIGHT BREAKS IN.”

But in addition to his work at home, and his studies at school,
he was an active and earnest member of a debating society,
where his talents asa speaker were developed, and his knowledge
increased. When the question was to be discussed, ‘‘ Are fictitious
writings beneficial ?’’ He says, ‘‘I am on the negative, the side
of conscience, for there is scarcely a greater evil comes in our
midst. The pen is a powerful weapon; when it is used wrong-
fully, its influence is pernicious.”

When the new church on Union St., Burlington, was formed
in March, 1853, he, by invitation of his friend, Dr. Parrish,
united therewith, and at once, as from earliest childhood,
identified himself with the interests of the Sabbath-school.

His privileges and efforts in this new church were brief, how-
ever, for in the following May, when nearly seventeen years old,
having by adherence to his early motto, ‘‘ Integrity, Industry,
and Economy,’’ secured enough to pay his way, he left his Bur-
lington school, and went to Pennington Seminary. A few days
after his arrival there, he prayed in public for the first time. In
the following July, in company with Rev. J. G. Crate, likewise
a student at Pennington, he went to Cedar Grove, where, after
Brother Crate had preached, he closed the services, and then led
class for the first time. It wasa great cross, but the Lord blessed
him in the effort.

Leaving Pennington in the following October, he took charge
of a school at Long Branch, where he remained one year. This
was a new sphere of action, and he entered upon it with many
fears. He commenced with seven scholars, but such was his
success, that the number soon increased to nearly seventy. His
labors as a teacher, were not allowed to interfere with his reli-
gious duties, and the church soon felt, that he was called to
GEORGE W. BATCHELDER. 473

preach the gospel. It was mentioned to him, and he was urged
to receive license to exhort. But his health was such, that his
own judgment, as well as that of his father, was, that for the
present it had better be deferred.

In November, 1854, he left Long Branch, and went to Cass-
ville, Pa., in the double capacity of student and teacher, where
he studied Greek and Latin, with a recitation in Theology once
» week. He remained at Cassville one year.

Returning to New Jersey in the autumn of 1855, he opened a
classical school at New Egypt. This school prospered beyond
his most sanguine expectations. While residing there, the
church saw he was a young man of talents, and feeling the
power of his consistent life, gave him license to exhort.

During the following December, in company with Rev. B. D.
Palmer, going to the village of Goshen, four or five miles through
the pines, Brother Palmer insisted that he should preach, and
gave him a text. When they arrived at the church, with much
fear and trembling, yet impelled by a sense of duty, he opened
his mission and preached his first sermon from the words of
Paul, ‘‘ Cast not away your confidence, which hath great recom-
pense of reward,”’ the text which Brother Palmer gave him.

With this verbal license from Brother Palmer, he preached a
few times, to the great delight and profit of his hearers.

On the 15th of June, 1856, he wrote in his journal as follows:
‘«To-day ushers in the first day of my twentieth year. To-day
I peculiarly feel my eternal obligations to Him who has preserved
me so long, given me so much that I needed, and preserved me
from so much that would harm. I have been trying within a few
weeks, to walk with God, but too much like Peter, [have walked
afar off. Whose heart is so prone to sinas mine? Thy power,
thy power, O Lord of heaven and earth, alone can keep me. My
feelings to-day are peculiar. The Lord has opened a way for me
here ; my salary is sufficient for all my wants, after assisting my
parents some; pleasant school and welladvanced ; but is this my
proper sphere? God only knows! During my stay here, I
have tried to speak for my Saviour and his cause, and have been
blessed. The other Sabbath Brother Palmer made me try to
preach at Pemberton, and there I was not forsaken. Oh! that
4T4 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

T knew how to act. A calm spirit of resignation is what I need,
but how hard to maintain it? Brother Palmer finally drew from
me the promise, that if the way should again be opened, I would
not hesitate. Considering my health, and general want of pre-
paration, it seeems like a rash promise, but father thought it
best, and why should I not be in the hands of the Lord? My
determination, Christ strengthening me, is at all events to live
for Him, and to live in Him, that I may finally dwell with Him.

“On this my birth-day, I wish to covenant with my heavenly
Father to live in all humility of heart the life of a Christian. I
am persuaded I shall not count another twenty years on earth.
My life will be short, but Oh, if useful, how cheering will be its
close. Lord, guide me, and whether thou givest me life or not,
oh, give me thy Holy Spirit. May this year of my life be the
happiest, the most productive of good to thy church and the
world, and whatever its unseen future may reveal, prepare, Oh
prepare me for it. Amen.”’ :

About the last of July of the same year, while in company
with his father on a visit to a fellow-apprentice, Rev. 8. H.
Smith, of New York East Conference, then stationed at Bethel,
Connecticut, he received a letter from Rev. Wm. A. Wilmer,
Presiding Elder of Trenton District, informing him that the ill-
ness of Rev. B. O. Parvin left the church at Millstone, eight
miles from New Brunswick, without a pastor, and asking him to
take charge of it. He was only an exhorter, and but twenty
years and two months old. What should he do? His father
said to him kindly, ‘‘Go, my son."’ The work of the ministry
had long occupied his mind—the scales of inclination and duty
were poised on even beam: but these few words from a parent’s
lips turned the balance, and his life work was decided.

He at once procured a teacher for the New Egypt school,
made arrangements for his higher calling, and started for Mill-
stone; but as he bore a letter of introduction from Rev. ©. E.
Hill, of Burlington, to Rev. 8. L. Johnson, a local minister of
New Brunswick, he stopped at that place for its delivery. The
acquaintance thus commenced between these two Christian men,
ripened into an intense and sanctified friendship, which con-
tinued until dissolved by death. By special invitation brother
GEORGE W. BATCHELDER. 475

Johnson’s house became his frequent and pleasant home.
Reaching Millstone, the place of his destination, he says: ‘“‘I
arrived here on Thursday, August 20th, 1856. And js it possi-
ble I am here to take charge of a church? Is it not presump-
tion? It is not my work; I throw the responsibility on my
friends. Lord, if it be thy will that I work in thy vineyard, in
this department, Oh bless and encourage me! In thee I trust. ,
On thee I rest. Thy blessing—thy blessing I crave—I must
have, or I fail. Oh the responsibility—the account I must give in
the day of judgment for the immortal interests of this church
and this community. It overwhelms me; it would crush me;
but I know who is leading me, who is sustaining me; and he
will bring success—God help.”’

The people looked at their new minister, and though he was
but a youth, yet impressed by his boyish appearance that he was
much younger than he really was, shook their heads in fear, that
in a community like that, so long accustomed to the ministrations '
of staid and able men, he could do nothing.

The Sabbath came. He preached in the morning from the
text, ‘‘ Brethren, pray for us;’’ and in the evening, ‘‘Seek ye first
the kingdom of God,”’ &. Not only were all fears dispelled, but
an angel from heaven would have produced little more surprise.
They expected little or nothing, but when his fervid thoughts
and glowing eloquence fell upon their ears, they scarcely knew
how to express their feelings. His reputation as a speaker was
at once established, and his power increased from week to week.

The quarterly meetings for Liberty Street, New Brunswick,
and Millstone were at that time held together. At the first of
these, after Brother Batchelder’s appointment, he was regularly
licensed to preach.

While stationed at Millstone, he preached for the writer several
times at New Brunswick. A newspaper of that city spoke of
him as follows:—‘‘ For a young man, Mr. Batchelder is the most
promising public speaker it has been our good fortune to listen
to for years, and if health is continued, he will soon rank among
the ablest for eloquence and oratory. He is only a little over
twenty years of age, of liberal education, has a retiring yet pleas-
ing manner, and sweet and pathetic voice, over which he has
A476 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

excellent control; language chaste, pertinent and forcible, while
his thoughts, if not always original, are original in their presen-
tation.”

Of a missionary address delivered there, the same paper says:
‘‘Rev. G. W. Batchelder’s earnest and soul-stirring remarks
upon the subject of missions, given in his own happy and elo-
quent style, will long be remembered by those privileged to hear.
They reached the heart and opened the fountain of tears. Many
wept who are not to weeping given.”

His brief ministry at Millstone, which closed on the 5th of
April, 1857, will never be forgotten by those. who had the oppor-
tunity of sitting under it.

The week following, the New Jersey Conference commenced
at Trenton, where he was received on trial. On the succeeding
Sabbath, while the Conference was yet in session, he was sent to
fill the pulpit at Princeton, where he preached twice to the ad-
miration of all. Great was the delight of that people, there-
fore, when on the adjournment of Conference, they learned that
the eloquent preacher of the previous Sabbath was io be their
pastor.

Of this appointment he wrote: ‘‘Conference has thus dis-
posed of me. O my God, sustain me! Let this be a year of
usefulness in my history, and to the church a year of power.”

He commenced his work in that far-famed and time-honored
seat of learning on the 19th of April, 1857. The elevated char-
acter of his ministrations soon arrested attention, and while the
citizens generally were interested, the Professors and students
of Old Nassau Hall were his frequent, and some of them his con-
stant hearers.

In speaking of Brother Batchelder, S. L. Johnson, of New
Brunswick, says :—‘‘ The question as to the best method of pul-
pit preparation was one frequently discussed by us. On one oc-
casion I showed him my plan: which was to select two or three
themes, write them down, and then in the course of reading,
hearing, thinking, or conversation, if anything offered illustrat-
ive or applicable to either, place it at once under its appropriate
head. Some six months after this, and while he was stationed
at Princeton, I was paying him a visit, when he said to me in
GEORGE W. BATCHELDER. ATT

his familiar way, ‘Johnson, your plan of preparing discourses is
excellent, but, under the blessing of God, I think I have im-
proved upon it.’ He then produced his plan, and said, ‘I first
go to God in prayer, and ask Him fora text or subject; and I
seldom take anything that does not come in this way. Then I
write them down as you do, and in my reading, conversation,
study, or hearing sermons, anything that bears upon my subject
I place where it belongs; thus I have always material for thought
and reflection; and my very best illustrations have been gathered
in this way.’”’

His sojourn in Princeton was pleasant. He often spoke of its
refined society, and its beautiful flowers. He loved both. But
while he enjoyed these, there was that which gave him sadness
—his want of larger success in winning souls to Christ. True,
there was a religious interest, and some were converted while he
was there, but not such numbers as satisfied his zeal. He wanted
to see scores and hundreds brought to Jesus. But the ministry
of such a man cannot be estimated by immediate results. The
truth in reference to him is contained in a newspaper notice :—
“‘The young preacher is a remarkable man, and take him for all
in all, I never listened to his equal. A dignity, the natural re-
sult of great purity of character, a sweetness of utterance that no
affectation could attain, united with a command and adaptation
of language that seems like inspiration, renders George W.
Batchelder one of the most effective and useful ministers. Such
a man sows the seeds of virtuous life deep in the souls of strong
men, silently to germinate, the fruits whereof the sower may not
know until preacher and hearer are summoned to appear before
the eternal throne.’’ Sometimes, however, fruits of this gra-
cious sowing appear in this life to gladden the heart of the tear-
ful sower. A gentleman in Princeton, who subsequently joined
the church, said, ‘‘I received my first religious convictions under
the preaching of Mr. Batchelder.’’ And here and there, through
succeeding years, though the form of the preacher may lie in the
silent earth, persons will continue to arise with similar declara-
tions, and the light of eternity will, no doubt, reveal many more.

In the main, however, he was one of those deep but silent
workers, so beautifully described in one of his own brilliant lec-
478 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

tures:—‘‘ But the world’s work is not waiting for conspicuous
workers, neither is the most of it done by those whom history
will recognize. Nature teaches us by the might of noiseless la-
borers. ‘There is no rushing sound when the golden gates of
dawn swing round, and the broad tides of sunlight break in on a
darkened world, flooding it with glory as one bright wave after
another falls from the fountain millions of miles away. There is
no creaking of heavy axles or groaning of cumbrous machinery
as the solid earth wheels on its way, and every planet and sys- _
tem performs its revolutions. The great trees clothe themselves
with boughs, the plants cover themselves with buds, and buds
burst into flowers, but the whole transaction is unheeded. The

ange from snow and winter winds to the blossoms and fruits
and sunshine of summer is seen in the slow development, but
there is scarcely a sound to tell of the might of the transforma-
tion. The river rolling voiceless, forever and forever, is elo-
quent of strength. The beat of the heart is muffled, and the
lapse of time that sweeps the living world far out to sea, is silent.
The past is dumb, the future still, and the present makes but a
slight ripple, like the traveling of a steamer on a quiet sea.’ If
then Providence, the mightiest worker in the universe, is the
least noisy and obtrusive, the unseen influence exerted by the
unheard name may be most significant.’’

Still we long for the immediate and visible results, and in the
absence of these, no applause, however merited and wide-spread,
can satisfy the earnest soul of a faithful minister.

His career at Princeton secured the esteem of the first intel-
lects of that literary town, and closed on the 20th of March, 1859,
with universal approbation.

Meanwhile a new church had been organized in Trenton, having
in view the erection of a beautiful and costly edifice for the worship
of God. The minds of its official members were at once directed
to the youthful Princeton preacher as every way adapted to their
wants. The proper authorities coincided with these views, and
George W. Batchelder became the first pastor of the State Street
Methodist Episcopal Church. It was a responsible position for
one so young, and yet he proved himself eminently qualified for
the important work. This new society worshiped until the com-
GEORGE W. BATCUELDER. 479

pletion of their own edifice in Temperance Hall, corner of Green
and Front streets. Eatchelder commenced his labors there on
the 3d of April, preaching in the morning from the text, ‘‘ Christ
sent me not to baptize, but to preach;’’ and in the evening,
‘Without faith it is impossible to please God,”’

His graceful elocution and oratory, connected with his fervent
piety, arrested immediate attention, and made a profound im-
pression. The large room was regularly filled with intel-
ligent hearers, from all classes, and representing all denomina-
tions. ’

The church was greatly encouraged by the auspicious com-
mencement of their enterprise, and workmen were immediately
engaged in laying the foundation of the new building corner of
State and Stockton Streets. While matters were thus pleasantly
progressing, his friends experienced an agreeable surprise in the
fact announced by a morning paper, that at the annual com-
mencement of Princeton College on the 27th of June, the
honorary degree of Master of Arts was conferred upon the elo-
quent pastor of the State Street Church. This was the more
interesting and impressive from the fact that it was the second
distinction of the kind ever conferred upon a Methodist minister
by that ancient and honorable institution, the first being upon
the saintly Summerfield.

The corner-stone of the new edifice was laid with appropriate
ceremonies on the 21st of July, 1859, by Bishop Scott. The
building advanced with great rapidity, and was dedicated on the
14th of the following June. Bishop Janes preached in the
morning, and performed the dedicatory services; Dr. Kenneday
preached in the afternoon, and Dr. Bartine in the evening.

The popularity of the pastor was sufficient to fill the fine large
audience room, and the prospects of the society were of the
most flattering character.

A correspondent of a city paper said, ‘‘ Being in Trenton on
Sabbath, I went to the new M. E. church on State Street. I
found the interior finished in exceedingly good taste, combining
simplicity and beauty. The preacher is a young man of almost
boyish appearance, and yet there is a quiet unaffected religious
dignity in the expression of his features, and in his whole bear-
480 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

ing that cannot fail to secure respect even from the most lightly
disposed. I never saw a face more thoroughly stamped with the
expression of sanctity. I never listened to a more interesting
sermon. I have heard the most eminent clergymen of this
country, but I know of none superior to this young man in all
those rare gifts that combine to give power and influence to the
pulpit. I have heard men more eloquent, more argumentative,
and more logical, but in the happy blending of all these, I have
never listened to the superior of George W. Batchelder. His
eloquence never oppresses, his arguments never weary, his logic
never confuses. A gentleman and a Christian, with a zeal
governed by rare intellectual discrimination, he is the very man
demanded by the emergency which called this new church into
existence.’’

Though he was the subject of frequent newspaper remarks,
and universally applauded by his congregations and the com-
munity generally, he never seemed elated, but moved on oe
the artlessness and simplicity of a child.

There was that which gave him greater joy than all human
commendations; the penitent’s cry for mercy, and the song of
new-born souls. These he longed to hear, and felt, unless he
heard them, he could scarcely live. To accomplish this, he
preached and prayed and toiled, and lived.

He did not toil in vain. A graciousrevival of religion closed up
the year 1860, and sweetly extended its influences into the year
1861, in which between forty and fifty professed conversion. In
this revival his joy was unbounded. He often referred to it as
the most blessed period of his life.

These things improved his religious experience; he grew as a
Christian, and consequently rose higher as a minister. In one
of his sermons, after this, he speaks of personal experience.

‘“Thereisa spiritual stature we are to arrive at; there is aspirit-
ual form we are to be moulded into. It is not of Pharisaic
figure ; it is not of philosophic size and cast. Do we say with
little more meaning than a child’s answer would contain, ‘It is
Christ’s? Yes, itis Christ’s. Thankfully, joyfully, triumphantly,
we cry, as the work goes on within us, It is Christ’s, his image
GEORGE W. BATCHELDER. 481

his likeness.’ He is our ideal, and the mind that was in him,
must be in us.”’

While stationed at Trenton, he was called to pass through the
greatest grief of his life, the loss of his mother. In the last
sermon he ever prepared, he refers to the subject in such in-
structive and tender words, that we are sure the reader will be
pleased, with their insertion. ‘‘‘Come home immediately, your
mother is dying,’ read a telegram handed to a young man, who
had even to manhood clung to the endearments of mother and
home. As the sorrow fell into his heart, he crushed the paper
in his hand, and with an agitation that shook his frame, offered
the prayer, ‘Spare her, O merciful Father, yet a little’ while,
spare her.’ It is no new thing for a mother to die. Every day
orphanage weeps and the world takes no heed. But to every
one who has stood within the veil, and known the sacredness of
a mother’s love, and then by the coffined form, and known the
unfathomed grief of a mother’s death, it is new once. And
what child or man, if he retain anything of the innocence of
childhood, will not feel the strange, terrible novelty in his his-
tory, of a ‘home without a mother?’ She passed away to the
family in heaven. Now see the struggle, and victory. Though
a Christian in his habits of thought and aims of life, his reli-
gious vitality was numbed. There was a bitterness in the cup
that tinctured the spirit. There was an intensity of agony in
the wound that paralyzed the frame. Religious exercise, friendly
counsels, the conclusions of reason, availed nothing. One day
when journals and letters relating to the bereavement had re-
vived the emotional strength of grief, and the heart was turning
away from earth for comfort, God sent into its meditations this
much of his word: ‘If any man love father or mother more
than me, he is not worthy of me.’ It struck the Horeb of his
heart, and tears of repentance flowed freely.’ In the rebuke was
hidden consolation. Day after day the comparative claims of
Christ and the parent were weighed; the appropriate work of
Christ in affliction beheld, and the place he would occupy in the
stricken spirit revealed, till every barrier to peace was broken
down, and the contrite soul of the mourning one sobbed out the
ejaculation: ‘No! no, blessed Jesus, not more than thee, thou

31
482 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

art the first and the last, thou knowest that I love thee more
than these,

‘Give what thou wilt, without thee, I am poor;
And with thee rich, take what thou wilt away.’

The victory was final.’’

His ministry in Trenton approached its close. It was brilliant,
and in many respects satisfactory to himself—the crowning glory
of his life.

A distinguished jurist, the late Judge Dayton, Minister to the
Court of France, who knew him well in Trenton, said, ‘‘He was
more like Summerfield than any man he had ever known.”’

A gentleman, who made no profession of religion, deeply im-
pressed with the excellency of his ministry, said: ‘‘When I
meet him in the street, though a stranger, I can hardly refrain
from grasping him by the hand in token of my profound admira-
tion.”’

But Batchelder was frail. He had been so from achild. His
popularity, though it seemed not to affect him, was nevertheless
exciting. To meet its demands he toiled many a weary hour
when his admirers were asleep.

Not only did his own church require his energies, but he was
in demand for all kinds of labor at home and abroad. Sabbath-
school and missionary addresses were very numerous. He ad-
dressed Young Men’s Christian Associations in various places.
Pic-nic and Harvest Home speeches were frequent, sometimes
two or three a week. He delivered addresses at school com-
mencements at home and abroad. He likewise delivered a
Fourth of July address before the Washington Monumental As-
sociation of Trenton, and an address before the Normal School.

He frequently lectured for the relief of churches in different
localities. At the Annual Sessions of the Conference he was in-
variably called upon for an address at some of the anniversaries.
He spoke at corner-stone layings, and preached at the dedication
and reopening of churches. Such were his labors outside of his
regular pastorate.

He was worked hard, and his frail constitution could not
otherwise than feel it. He longed for repose, and looked for-
GEORGE W. BATCHELDER. 483

ward to the annual Conference as a time when he might retire
to some little country charge to rest. But this was not his privi-
lege. When his term expired in Trenton, April, 1861, he was
appointed to Bayard Street, New Brunswick.

He entered upon his work there with all the energy his failing
strength would allow. He officiated one Sabbath, and on the
next was called to preach at the dedication of the new church on
Market Street, Paterson, New Jersey.

Flattering notices of his sermon appeared in the papers of that
city, and were copied abroad. When a friend called his atten-
tion to these notices, he replied: ‘‘My dear brother, I am con-
vinced that my time in this world is short, and such is my agony
of soul for the salvation of sinners, that I would much rather hear
the cry, ‘What must I do to be saved?’ produced by my efforts,
than to have the eulogies of all the world. O, my Master,
give me souls; I feel I cannot live, unless souls are converted
under my ministry.”’

The time of Mr. Batchelder’s appointment to New Brunswick
was one of great excitement in our country. Sumpter had just
been firéd on, and the great national heart was stirred to its
depths. It was not only Sumpter that had been assailed, but the
Northern mind, loyal and liberty-loving was insulted, and stood
aghast with profound astonishment. When the first stunning
shock was over, the cry to arms rang through the land in tones
of thunder. To sustain the government and encourage enlist-
ments, large and enthusiastic meetings were held in almost every
locality. New Brunswick was astir, and on the 22d of April,
just two weeks after Mr. Batchelder’s appointment, the greatest
popular demonstration ever known in that city took place in the
First Reformed Dutch Church. The galleries were thronged
with ladies, and the lower floor of that vast church was packed
with men. All classes were there, from the College President
and Theological Professor to the humblest mechanic and laborer.
Judge Van Dyke presided; and the meeting was addressed by
Rev. Dr. Campbell, president of Rutgers’ College; Rev. Dr.
Crosby, Hon. G. B. Adrain, Rev. G. W. Batchelder, Rev. Dr.
Woodbridge, G. A. Vroom, Esq., Rev. D. Cole, Rev. Dr. Proud-
fit, J. Van Rensalear, Hsq., Rev. Dr. How, Rev. Mr. Riddell,
484 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

Rev. Mr. Harlow, Rev. Mr. Jeffreys, Rev. Dr. Wilson, Rev.
Dr. Webb, Rev. Wm. J. Thompson, Dr. Morrogh and R.
Adrain, Esq.

Amid this vast array of age, experience, and talent, Batchel-
der stood youngest of all, and yet, in energy of thought and
gracefulness of style, a peer! He said, ‘‘I cannot conceive why
T am called to speak, unless it be to represent the young men of
New Brunswick. The question has often been asked, What will
the young men do? I answer, The young men will speak for the
Union, vote for the Union, give for the Union, and fight for the
Union. Iam not of an excitable nature, but my blood has been
heated by the events of the past few months, and I am surprised
at the course the South has taken. We look back to 1776 and
find causes sufficient for the revolution which then took place.
We look over to Italy, and do not wonder that Garibaldi springs
upon his enemies. Has the South been taxed heavily, or any
of their rights infringed upon? I can find nothing of this kind
on record. But I do see that the Government has suffered, pet-
ted, and coaxed them, until like rebellious children they become
outlaws. The South asked for Louisiana, and we bought and
gave it her; she wanted Florida, and we bought and gave it
her; she wanted a Missouri Compromise—we gave it her; she
wanted Texas—we fought and bled and conquered, and gave it
her; she wanted New Mexico—we bought it and gave it her;
she wanted a Fugitive Slave Law—we gave it her; she wanted
the repeal of the Missouri Compromise—we repealed it; and yet
she complains that she is wronged! Why I myself am outraged
by all this, and I will now speak for the Union, vote for the
Union, give for the Union, and fight for the Union.

‘* Now what has been done? Our Flag that no foreign nation
dared to insult has been trodden under foot—our vessels taken
on the seas, our forts and arsenals and mints seized, and the
young blood fired until it is ready to speak, vote, give, fight,
and die for the Union. When I see laws violated, property
stolen, harvests destroyed, men outraged, and the liberties of
the people in danger, I can no longer cry ‘Peace, Peace,’ but
must declare in trumpet tones, ‘Thus far and no further.’ For
this purpose I appeal not only to New Brunswick, but ask, Will
GEORGE W. BATCHELDER. 485

New Jersey be true to her past history? I say, Yes. Her sac-
rifices and privations were second to none in the Revolutionary
struggle; and her sons have been as brave as the bravest. She
has given a Morgan, a Lawrence, a Bainbridge, a Pike, and a
host of others who never flinched in the cause of their country.
New Jersey to-day lives and breathes the same big breath of
patriotism, and will not be trampled upon.

‘*T have looked at this contest in various lights—in the light of
a Jerseyman—as a Christian man,—and I believe it to be as
much my duty to fight for my country now as it is to preach the
gospel, and I will do it. The Government has been very lenient,
but the first gun that fell upon Fort Sumpter decided that we
must be lenient no longer, and must be ready for war. We
must sustain the Government, and if needed I stand ready to go
to-day. Let every one who can go do so at once. The cross
may be great, but go, and if you should fall, a grateful country
will honor and remember, and the God of the fatherless protect
those dependent upon you..

‘‘But I close my remarks to give place to others. The cry is,
To arms. Let us rush to the battle, with the spirit of the poet
in our hearts,—

‘What God in his infinite wisdom designed,
And armed with his weapons of thunder,
Not all the earth’s despots and factions combined
Have the power to conquer or sunder!
The union of lakes—the union of lands,
The union of States none can sever—
The union of hearts—the union of hands,
And the flag of our Union forever.’ ”

These efforts and excitements had their influence upon one so
frail as he, and were noiselessly, but surely, undermining the foun-
dations of life, and hastening him to an early grave.

His summer at New Brunswick was passed, however, with
comparative comfort, but as the season advanced, and autumn
with its fading glories came, his infirmities increased.

On the 15th of September he preached in Newark, at Central
Church, in the morning, and Broad Street atnight. Concerning
this visit he wrote to a friend, ‘‘I spent rather a pleasant day in
486 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

Newark, though I have not preached so poorly for a long time.
Hear the voice of the rod, says the Good Book; and I hope this
slight chastisement will tend to produce a state of healthful hu-
mility. It seems to me it would be pleasant, though, if minis-
ters could be whipped like other people at home. Do not blame
the clergy for publicly chastising their congregations when the
former suffer so much more largely—for theirs is a narrower sur-
face, and the corrections much more frequent.” —

But poorly as he preached in his own estimation, more than
a year after a lady of piety and intelligence said, ‘‘I have the
pleasantest recollections of Mr. Batchelder, owing to the great
benefit derived from his sermons on the above occasions.”’

The following Sabbath he preached at home, after which,
being attacked with hemorrhages, he was laid aside from pul-
pit labors for three months.

Sometimes during this period he was tolerably comfortable,
and his friends with himself entertained the hope that care and
rest might possibly restore him.

On the 21st of October he was married to Miss Helen, daugh-
ter of Rev. D. W. Bartine, D. D., of the Philadelphia Conference,
a young lady eminently fitted to become his companion, who by
her gentle ministries not only soothed the hours of his affliction,
but, no doubt, prolonged his life for months.

A few weeks after his marriage, he wrote from Philadelphia
to his friend, Rev. Wm. H. Jefferys, at New Brunswick thus,
‘T scarcely know what to say of my health. It had been im-
proving, until a slight cold received last week, brought into
prominence again the old features of my disease. Confiden-
tially, my dear brother, I fear: my time of work on earth is not
very long, at most only a few years. Oh! howI wish I had
done more, worked harder, with a more single eye, and won more
souls to Christ. If my allotted time should close this winter, I
will have preached five years. But how have I preached?
Where are the souls? Where my abundant labors through the
week in pastoral work? Oh! there is no hope in sucha review,
and I have only one feeling in surveying it, besides deep regret ;
and that is thankfulness, ‘that we are not saved by works.’
Where O my soul would be thy salvation? But now, thank
GEORGE W. BATCHELDER. 487

God, I can by the exercise of a present faith, cling to a living
Redeemer, whose work on the cross wrought a salvation inde-
pendent of my poor life history, and while it lifts me up, ‘nearer
my God to thee,’ rolls through my soul its gentle waves of con-
solation. No text has impressed my mind during my sickness
like the sixth chapter of Hebrews, from the seventeenth verse,
to the end. Oh! the weight of comfort there is in it.”’

He returned to New Brunswick with his wife, in December,
making their home in the family of Brother Jeffery’s, pastor of
Liberty St. church, whose parsonage was next door to the
chapel which Brother Batchelder served. They were pleasantly
situated, and hoped for days of health and usefulness.

On the 23d of December, he preached from the words, ‘‘ If
any man will do my will, he shall know the doctrine.” Hecom-
menced his remarks as follows:—

“Tt pleased God recently to lay his chastening hand upon
me, and for months to seal my lips. Many hours of restiveness
I spent, mourning that I could not, when the Sabbath came,
preach Jesus and the resurrection. But why? It was not
the desire of standing as the speaker, or the teacher of hun-
dreds; from that responsibility I shrink with trembling. It was
not love of fame, for even if desirable in health, it dwindles when
earth loosens its bond, and eternity draws nigh. It was not love
of excitement connected with the preparation and delivery of
sermons, that had already shattered me. It was the desire I
had to take up once more the blessed old gospel ery, ‘ Whoso-
ever will let him come and take of the water of life freely ;* that
I might stand where John stood, and point to where John
pointed, and re-echo, though with a feeble voice his shout, ‘ Be-
hold the Lamb of God.’ Oh! there is pleasure in placing gold
in a poor man’s hands; joy in saying to those who ask, ‘ Where
shall I go;’ there isa rock higher than I. It is sweet to give
bread to the hungry, and to lead those who are athirst, to foun-
tains springing up unto everlasting life. Therefore I resolved,
that if restored, whatever my past remissness, hereafter,

‘Only Jesus would I know,
And Jesus crucified.’

And here I stand, for myself, crying, God forbid that I should

*
488 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

glory save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ,’ and for you,
‘Behold the Lamb of God.’ ”’

On the first Sabbath of January, 1862, he preached from the
words of Paul, ‘‘I beseech you therefore brethren, by the
mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice,
holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.”

This was his last sermon, and henceforth, the pulpit was elo-
quent with his voice no more.

It was yet three months till conference. During this time the
professors and students of Rutgers College, and the Theological
Seminary, supplied the pulpit in the morning, and Rev. Dr.
Howard Crosby, pastor of the First Presbyterian church of New
Brunswick, magnanimously volunteered his valuable services,
and preached for Mr. Batchelder every Sabbath evening with
great acceptability and profit, for a period of three months; an
act of Christian kindness, for which he will long be held in grate-
ful remembrance. This distinguished divine, in speaking of Mr.
Batchelder, says, ‘‘I first knew him as pastor of the Bayard St.
Chapel, and loved him at once. As I met him on various public
occasions, I learned more and more to esteem his gentle spirit,
and his warm zeal. It was only a few months after I first knew
him that he was taken ill; and his rapidly increasing weakness
incapacitated him for pulpit duties. He had continued them too
long, when I was permitted to take his place in the evening ser-
vice of every Sabbath. During the three months of this inter-
course with his flock, I had abundant opportunity to witness
their affection for, and their pride in him.

‘‘From time to time, I visited his sick room, and found him
always the same patient sufferer. He was a Christian of a
broad Catholic spirit, of winning manners, cultivated mind, and
beautiful life. He reminded me of the Scotch M‘Cheyne,
having that remarkable mingling of the mild and energetic in
his character, which so distinguished that eminent servant of
Christ. The Lord has given him an early crown. Happy
morning, when we shall meet him there.’’

During the months of Mr. Batchelder’s sickness, his friends in
various parts, were deeply solicitous for his welfare, and numer-
ous substantial tokens of their regard were given. To one of
GEORGE W. BATCHELDER. 489

these friends, Wm. Hutchinson, Esq., of Trenton, he wrote,
‘*Permit me before I close, to thank you again, for your un-
ceasing kindness. God only can reward you for the interest you
have shown in my welfare, and may his best blessings ever rest
upon you and yours. Next to my wife I thank God for my
friends ; no man ever had better or truer.”’

When Conference came, his health still declining, he took a
superannuated relation to the church, cherishing the hope, how-
ever, that still further rest might, to some extent, restore him.

Having followed Mr. Batchelder thus far, it seems appropriate,
at this point, where the activities of his ministry close, to in-
troduce the following estimate of his abilities as a preacher,
prepared expressly for this volume, by Rev. Isaac W. Wiley,
D. D., the accomplished editor of the Ladies’ Repository.

‘“‘There was something in Mr. Batchelder’s preaching that
attracted among all classes of people, not only of his own church,
but of the community generally. What that something was is
an interesting and important inquiry. If we can discover it, and
it is something that is generally attainable by young men, then
his success, though short-lived, may yet be made a great blessing
to the world. We are quite willing to present his character, his
style, and his success to the young men of New Jersey, as in
the highest degree exemplary.

‘* Let us inquire, then, as well as we can, into the secret of this
popularity and success.

“1. We claim that the popularity of Mr. Batchelder was
genuine, and of that kind which every true minister desires to
have, for the sake of giving him acceptability with the people,
that he may have power and influence over them. It was not
ephemeral, such a false popularity as would have soon worn out ;
but on the contrary was of that substantial and well-merited
character that would have grown with his increasing years and
strength, and if he had lived would doubtless have carried him to
ahigh place among the preachers of the country. It was gained
by no false arts, and was fostered by no special efforts on his
part. It came to him; he sought not after it. In fact, the
writer has good reason to know, that he was but little conscious
of his own popularity, and but little thought that he deserved
490 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

any great. amount of reputation. His aim was for success,
ministerial success, but Ido not think he ever would have ac-
cepted mere popularity as an accomplishment of his aim.

‘2. While listening to Brother Batchelder in the pulpit,
judging from the easy flow of his words, the regular order of
thought, the smoothness and appropriateness of the language, I
concluded that his sermons were fully written out and were de-
livered memoriter ; and when he passed away, remembering the
excellent contents of many of his sermons, I felt satisfied that
the young preacher had left behind him some written sermons
that by their beauty and value would compensate somewhat
for his own absence. When his papers fell into my hands, I
was surprised to find but one fully written sermon among the
entire number, and that too, in the hand-writing of another,
doubtless written out by that other under dictation from him, to
be preserved asa memento of a dying loved one. Mr. Batchel-
der, then, was not a memorizer; his sermons were not written
out, and that easy fluent utterance, that purity of diction, that
accuracy of grammar, those sentences composed with elegance
and accuracy that would have answered at once for the press,
and that perfect self-possession were but the evidences of the
mastery the young orator had already attained in the art of ex-
temporaneous preaching. For some of the sermons that I had
heard with great interest, and which I had seen produce most
excellent effects, I at once looked among his papers. Some of
them I found in the form of skeletons, some more fully
elaborated, but none written out.* His sermon on ‘JESUS
THE SINNER’S FRIEND,’ which many have heard, and have felt
its beauty and power, and which on one occasion I saw followed
by the coming forward of seventeen young ladies and gentlemen to
give themselves to Christ, was only a fully prepared skeleton.
The filling up, the beautiful ‘language, the rounded sentences,
the pathetic appeals, and of course the sweet and loving spirit,
were the spontaneous work of the pulpit.

‘3. Mr. Batchelder, then, was an extemporaneous preacher.
But I do not mean by this that he was a preacher who entered

* And yet it must be stated, that his sketches are very numerous, and for
sketches only, very full.—E. H. 8.
GEORGE W. BATCHELDER. 491

into the pulpit unprepared for his work. and depending on the
inspiration of the occasion. and as a consequence dealing out to
his people uninteresting common place. and empty repetitions.
He was a hard student. for his delicate constitution. too labori-
ous a student. His early opportunities had been limited. his
education was only academic, but he had already built on this
foundation a good superstructure of learning. His learned ad-
mirers of Prineeton did themselves no dishonor in conferring on
him the degree of Master of Arts: but the fact that the young
self-taught preacher won for himself this distinction from one
of the oldest colleges of the land. and one, too. very careful in
the distribution of her honors. is a proof of his studious industry
and his commendable attainments. His sermons though not
written out were fully prepared. You can readily see by his
skeletons that his own mind had gone carefully over the whole
ground : that he had thought out every part of it. and that when
he went into the pulpit he knew what he was going to say; Aow
he would say it was the skill of the orater. And this is what we
mean by extemporaneous preaching.

*4. Mr. Batchelder was an original preacher. And here
again we do not mean that he preached thoughts that no body
else had preached. or that he depended simply on the resources
of his own mind for the subject matter of his sermons. or that
he was disposed to discard ald truths and methods. and to be
perpetually seeking after novelties. An originality of this kind
is rather a dangerous feature in a minister of the euspel. But his
sermons were his own: his style, his language. his methods. his
choice of subjects. were his own. He was natural. perfectly so.
Mr. Batchelder in the pulpit was exactly the Mr. Batchelder
you knew out of the pulpit. He imitated no one; he copied
from no one. Yet he drew from every possible source within
his reach. materials for his sermons. and inspiration for his
thoughts. He was a great reader. and a judicious reader. His
library drew into it the most recent and valuable works. He
kept up zo the Hteracure and learning of his own day. His books
were well marked with notes referring important passages to
their appropriate places for use: his skeletons refer you to his
books: his cs:mon-place book abounds im references to places
492 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

where good thoughts, good illustrations, good examples and in-
cidents were to be found. And on these sources he drew for
suggestive thoughts, for illustrations and examples, and they
abundantly enriched his sermons. Yet I think I can safely say
he never merely copied anything, but imbibed the thoughts he
read, digested them, used them to expand his own mind and de-
velop his own powers of thought. His books furnished him ex-
cellent food ; his own intellect digested it, and he furnished it in
his own style and methods to the people. The result was that
he always appeared in the pulpit with a freshness and newness
of thought; always had new facts, new illustrations, new modes
of presenting truths; that is, was not constantly repeating his
old illustrations and old methods. The people went always ex-
pecting to find a preacher prepared to address them, and to give
them old truths to be sure, but with the freshness and bright-
ness of anew coinage. The truths, of course, were the same, the
changeless truths of the gospel; for he always preached the gos-
pel; yet they were presented in new and varied modes of
thought, with new illustrations, and even in new language. His
reading up to the times kept his thinking up to the times; and
the people listened to a preacher who was talking to them in
their own current order of thought, about matters moral and re-
ligious, of present interest and concernment, and who was bring-
ing the religion of Christ to bear on the needs and questions of
the present hour. He preached the gospel of Christ, both as a
regenerator of society and as a salvationfor the soul. He seemed
to understand his congregation, and to aim at preaching Chris-
tianity to his own people in such a manner as would interest and
impress them, and as a consequence was never in want of alarge
and attentive congregation to hear him.

“5. A great part of the attraction and power of Mr. Batchelder
lay in the man himself, and in his manners in the pulpit. Per-
sonally he was one of the loveliest of men. Of course there
was a charm in his youth, a charm in his personal beauty, a
charm in the pale cheek, the brilliant eye, the fragile frame, all
which were assuring you that you were listening to a youth
whose life lay close along the borders of death. But all of these
would have failed without the gentle, loving spirit that gave real
GEORGE W. BATCHELDER. 493

beauty and charm to them all. I am almost afraid to write all
I know and think of this remarkable young man—the simple
truth may seem like over-wrought praise. And yet it is simply
true that with all his talents and success, he was humble, meek,
diffident, modest, gentle in spirit and in manners, loving and
lovable; a true friend, an earnest patriot, a devoted brother and
son, the tenderest of husbands, and the most genial of compan-
ions. Everybody loved him—it would have been impossible not
to love him. And best of all, he stood the fiery ordeal of early
popularity and wide-spread praise without producing a scar on this
pure and lovely character. These personal attractions and these
traits of character he carried with him into the pulpit. There,
as I have said, he was perfectly natural, perfectly himself. He
did nothing for show, nothing for effect. The same elements
that made up his constant character marked also the delivery of
his sermons—meekness, modesty, gentleness.

‘‘We conclude, then, that the attractiveness of Mr. Batchel-
der’s preaching lay in his pure character, loving spirit, gentle
and amiable manners; in his youth, becoming diffidence and
modesty, and the touching delicacy of his health; in the excel-
lent subject-matter, careful preparation, and special adaptedness
of his sermons; and in the naturalness, ease, chasteness and
sincerity of his delivery. We have spoken of all these things
as if they were personal accomplishments and acquirements of
Mr. Batchelder, and yet we wish to be understood as implying
all along, that many of them were the direct fruits of the Holy
Spirit, and all of them interfused and sanctified by Divine
grace.”

All who knew Brother Batchelder will appreciate the justice
of Dr. Wiley’s tribute.

Tt will be our privilege to follow this amiable young man only
a little further. His earthly career is near its close.

After becoming superannuated, a change of climate was recom-
mended; and accompanied by his wife, he started on the 11th
of June, 1862, for Minnesota. Reaching the Mississippi, he
wrote to a friend: ‘‘ We embarked on board the steamer ‘ North-
ern Light,’ for a ride of four hundred miles up the river. If I
could see you, I could infuse into your imagination some idea
494 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

of my enthusiastic enjoyment of this trip on the ‘Father of
Waters!’ But my pen and my lungs both give out in writing.
Bluffs six hundred feet high, beautifully wooded, with here and
there rocks that look like the fallen. masonry of old castles, bor-
der the river on both sides nearly its entire course.

“For miles there is not a habitation to be seen. Our boat
hauls up occasionally at some log-house, where we take a load
of wood, then for miles again, the grandeur of solitary nature,
till a western town is announced by the ringing of our bell. The
river is dotted all along with beautiful islands, covered with tall
slender trees, whose branches interlace and form arches and trel-
lises, while the richest and deepest green carpet the ground. At
night, when from the pilot-house or upper deck, you look out
upon these spots as the moon silvers them with her rays, it
seems like fairy land. You think, too, of eastern tales, travels,
and beauty, until sleep is driven away, and you revel in enjoy-
ment that seems too fairy-like to be real.

‘“We were two days thus enjoying the grandest travel one can
take this side of the Rhine, if not this side of heaven.”’

They were pleasantly situated at St. Paul’s, and as health was
the grand object of pursuit, their time was spent in such ways
as were best calculated to secure that end. While there, they
were in constant correspondence with their friends, and many a
joyous greeting from New Jersey cheered their hearts. His
letters, too, were flushed with hope, as long as hope could be
entertained; finally, however, that last sweet refuge and support
of poor mortality failed, and he wrote to his friend Hutchinson:
‘*T must give up all expectation of recovery. My lungs are too
much diseased, and my constitutional vigor too little to hope for
anything but a few months’ more battling with the destroyer.
It is foolish to attempt concealment from myself or friends. I
believe I do better here than [ could in any other climate, but
climates can do but little. Though discouraged in the things my
friends and myself hope for, I am not unhappy. My heavenly
Father is most gracious, and my Saviour is ever with me.”’

While in Minnesota, too weak much of the time to sit up, or
hold a pen, he dictated, while his wife wrote the sermon on
“*Heavenly-mindedness,’’ from which several quotations are
GEORUE W. BATCHELDER. 495

made in this narrative, the last of his numerous productions,
and, as was fitting, the sweetest of them all.

On the 5th of November he wrote to Brother Jefferys, ‘‘I am
just able to write youa line. Have been confined to my room
for nearly four weeks with hemorrhages. It seemed more than
once that I was going home, but I am now recovering.. I was
taken at a hotel where I called. Helen was sick, and we were
separated more than a week: she at our boarding-house, and I
at the hotel. It taxed our fortitude, but we were sustained.
She came to me as soon as possible, and we are now at the Mer-
chant’s Hotel. Many, many thanks to you, my dear friend, for
the evidences of your regard and care. May God bless you as
you deserve. But I am trespassing on my strength. Provi-
dence willing, we shall leave for home within two weeks. Oh how
I want to see you!”

Again he wrote to his friend Hutchinson, ‘‘I am just able to
situp. Have had a hard time of it, but ‘still live.’ All thanks
of my swelling heart tor your kindness. May God bless you as
you deserve.”’

He had gone to Minnesota in search of health, but now, in
compliance with the earnest solicitations of deeply-interested
friends, he turns his face homeward, with the last hope of pro-
longed life obliterated, and, as he believed, to die. It was,
therefore, a sad yet joyful hour, when on the eleventh of No-
vember this young minister and his wife, together with their lit-
tle son, who had been given them during their stay in Minnesota,
started for Philadelphia, which place, weak as he was, a kind
Providence enabled them to reach, on the eighteenth of the same
month, 1862.

After spending some time with their relatives in Philadelphia
and friends in Trenton, they finally fixed their residence at
Princeton. Although every effort was put forth that human
skill and kindness could devise, no remedy was found for the
fatal disease, and it became more and more evident his end was
near.

On one occasion interested friends from Trenton came to see
him. They found him a little despondent. After a few re-
marks, one of them said, encouragingly, ‘‘ You must look on the
496 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

bright side.’’ A brief pause followed, in which he thought of
his interesting family, the Church, his many friends, and of that
beautiful heaven to which, he believed, he was so rapidly hast-
ening ; then with a sweet smile, which indicated the serenity of
his soul, he answered, ‘‘ Both sides are bright.”

His chamber of sickness and death was rendered pleasant by
gentle ministries, sweet, flowers, and the smile of God. How
much he loved all these. Sometimes during his illness he would
kiss his friends in the fullness of his affection. Flowers he al-
most worshiped ; but God was over all, blessed forever.

It was now the dreary month of March, and he was very low.
Rev. Mrs. Jefferys, who, while the invalid was at her house in
New Brunswick, had rendered many comforting services, now
received a present of a valuable bouquet of natural flowers,
which had been made to bloom in winter by means of artifi-
cial heat. Passionately fond of these beautit'ul gifts of God, she
esteemed the bouquet highly. But she thought of the sick and
dying minister, and knowing how much he would prize it, cheer-
fully sent it to him. These flowers reached his bedside a short
time before his departure to a better world. As they were held
up before him, he opened his languid eyes, and gazing on them,
exclaimed, ‘‘ Oh they look like heaven !’’ Yes, they looked like
heaven, but that was all, for they were perishable. Here flowers
all fade; there they will bloom forever.

On the 18th of March, 1863, the New Jersey Conference con-
vened at Burlington. On Saturday the Zist, information of his
critical condition was received, and Rev. William H. Jefferys
was immediately delegated to bear to their dying fellow member,
assurances of sympathy and fervent prayer in his behalf.

Brother Jefferys found the patient sufferer at the door of
death, calmly waiting for the final summons. The light of divine
grace shone in his eye as he said: ‘‘ Last night I thought I was
dying, but all was bright and clear before me.’’ ‘‘Oh, I have
such peace, [ ought to be willing to suffer in body, for God so
greatly blesses me in mind.’’ He then repeated the words of our
Lord Jesus, ‘‘ My peace I leave with you. My peace I give unto
you.’’ He received the message of sympathy and condolence
from the Conference, and remarked: ‘‘ No language can express
GEORGE W. BATCHELDER. 497

how much I love the members of the New Jersey Conference.”
Said he, ‘‘The appointments will soon be made. Brother Han-
lon will go to Lambertville, Brother Stokes to Bordentown,
Brother King will come here, you will go to Trenton, and J will
go home to heaven,.’’ Then with a sweet smile upon his wasted
cheek, he said, ‘‘Do you not think I have the best appointment ?”’
The interview was protracted, and remarks of a similar charac-
ter continued to fall from his lips.

On Friday night, the 27th, his sufferings were severe. He
remarked to Rev. T. Hanlon, who was with him at the time,
‘‘Patience, patience. He is teaching me to say, Thy will be
done.”’ The next morning he had a season of peculiar brilliancy
of mind. ‘‘What a calm and beautiful morning this is,’’ was
his oft-repeated expression, and his soul seemed as calm and
peaceful as did nature around him. In the midst of his pious
rapture, his beloved wife inquired, ‘‘ Are you asleep, my dear?”
‘Yes, asleep in Jesus,’’ was his calm reply. His uncle said,
“Ts Jesus precious?’ ‘Yes, precious Jesus, he is precious,’’
was his answer. ‘To the friends who now gathered around his
dying bed, he remarked: ‘‘I did not expect to die so calmly, I
expected to suffer in death; but I die so quietly, and so trium-
phantly!”

He said to Mrs. Bartine: ‘‘Mother, do you think this is
death?’ She replied, ‘‘ Yes, George, I think it is.”” ‘‘ Then it
is sweet to die,’’ was his response. She said: ‘‘George, we
have gone with you as far as we can, you must leave us. What
do you see before you?’’ ‘‘ Pleasures for evermore,” he trium-
phantly exclaimed. He sent a message to his brother and
brother-in-law, who were both in the army of the Union. ‘‘ Tell
them to meet me in heaven, and tell them I send this message
with heaven in my view.’’ He then said: ‘‘ Jesus is a friend
that sticketh closer than a brother; my brother is far away, but
Jesus is here with me.’’ ‘‘Tell my dear father that the Father
of fathers is with me.’’ Of Dr. Bartine he said: ‘‘I have loved
him, O, how I have loved him!’’ To his uncle he said: ‘‘T love
you, uncle, and I am glad I came to your house to die.’”’ To his
wite he said, ‘‘I love you next to Jesus.’’ He sent messages of
love like these to his various friends and relatives, not forgetting

32
498 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

his brethren in the ministry, for whom his affection in death
was very strong. Finally he became exhausted, and sank into a
quiet, calm repose, in which condition he remained during all
the following day, which was the Sabbath. Its sacred hours
were spent by him in deep and silent communion with God. The
only utterances that are remembered as falling from his lips on
that day, are, ‘“‘ Jesus shed his precious blood for me, to him be
power and dominion, amen, amen, amen,’’ and he concluded
with the Angel Anthem, ‘‘ ‘Glory to God in the highest, peace
on earth, good will to men.’

On Monday morning, the 30th, just a few moments before his
death, as if he saw the Saviour coming, he exclaimed: ‘‘ Jesus,
my hope! my all! take me! take me now!’’ He then added:
‘*Glory, glory to—’ and with these words dying upon his lips,
his pure spirit passed away from the earth, leaving a heavenly
smile upon the face of the lifeless clay, which avas all that re-
mained of the once eloquent, lovely, and beloved George Wash-
ington Batchelder.

The funeral services, on the following Thursday, were held in
the Methodist Episcopal Church, in Princeton, under the super-
intendence of Rev. S. Y. Monroe. The Rev. Dr. Maclean,
President of Princeton College; Rev. Dr. McDonald, pastor of
First Presbyterian Church; and Rev. I. D. King, pastor of M.
K. Church, all participated. The eulogies upon the character
of the deceased, which were pronounced by the two distin-
guished Presbyterian divines, afforded proof of the fact that de-
nominational walls do not hide from the eyes of great and good
men intellectual and moral excellence.

From Princeton, his remains were taken to the State Street
Methodist Episcopal Church, Trenton, where a vast concourse
of people had assembled to participate in the solemnities of the
occasion. Nearly all the evangelical churches of the city were
represented in the persons of their pastors. A delegation of
ministers appointed by the Newark Conference was present, as
also, a large number of the members of the New Jersey Con-
ference. Rev. I. W. Wiley, D. D., pronounced a beautifully
appropriate funeral oration over the sainted dead, and his re-
mains were deposited in the Mercer Cemetery, where his numer-
GEORGE W. BATCHELDER. 499

ous friends have since erected to his memory a beautiful Italian
marble monument some fourteen feet high, on which is in-
scribed—

ASLEEP IN JESUS.

REY. GEORGE W. BATCHELDER, A. M.,
OF THE NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE.
FIRST PASTOR
OF STATE ST, METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH IN THIS CITY.
BORN JUNE 15, 1836,
DIED MARCH 30, 1863.
A CHILD OF GENIUS, CULTURE AND GRACE.

BRILLIANT AND LOVELY IN LIFE, PEACEFUL AND TRIUMPHANT
IN DEATH.

CROWNED WITH IMMORTALITY, HIS MEMORY LINGERS A
BEAUTIFUL VISION, PRECIOUS FOREVER.
500 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

REV. WILLIAM M. BURROUGHS.

Tue subject of this sketch was a son of Benjamin and Sarah
Burroughs, and was born in Hopewell Township, then Hunter-
don, but now Mercer Co., N. J. His parents occupied a re-
spectable position in society, and sustained a reputable character,
but did not profess religion. He received a careful moral train-
ing, and being reared in the country on a farm, he was not
brought in contact with the corrupting presence of large numbers’
of boys. Still there was no family altar or domestic religion in
his home, or Sunday-school in his reach, so that but slight re-
ligious influences were thrown around his childhood and early
youth. He was trained to industry and economy, and by nature
was sedate and thoughtful, and remarkably kind and affectionate,
always acting the part of a peace-maker among his schoolmates
andcompanions. His literary advantages were only ordinary, but
by diligent application he was enabled to acquire a fair common
school education.

At the age of sixteen he was apprenticed to Joseph Burn, of
Pennington, to learn the cabinet making business. In this new
position he was industrious and attentive, and gave good satisfac-
tion. Here he was brought in reach of the M. E. Church, and
at once became a regular attendant upon its services. In 1832,
Pennington for the first time is named upon the minutes as a
separate appointment, and assigned to Rev. Wm. H. Bull.
Through his instrumentality Mills was brought to a saving know-
ledge of the truth, and was baptized and received on probation
Oct. 13th of this year. His conversion was very clear, and he
took a prompt and decided stand with the church, evincing a
deep interest in whatever pertained to its welfare and success.

He began his religious life by strictly attending the means of
grace and taking part actively and acceptably in social worship.
WILLIAM M. BURROUGHS. 501

His parents resided six miles from Pennington, which distance
he usually traveled every other Saturday, in order to spend the
Sabbath at home. On his first visit after he was converted he
felt that he ought to pray with the family. But the cross was
so heavy and his nature so shrinking and timid that he could not
muster thecourage to say anything about it. Reflecting upon the
matter as he returned to his work, the Holy Spirit helped him
to see in contrast what the Saviour had done for him, and what
he was doing in return, and he felt much ashamed for his un-
faithfulness. Feeling depressed and condemned, he asked the
Lord for forgiveness, and promised to do better next time. As the
fortnight rolled away the subject was much in his thoughts and
prayers, and as the time approached he felt deeply anxious. But
to his great relief and joy, his mother, who had been recently
converted on a sick bed, invited him to conduct family worship.
He gladly complied, and ever after continued the practice when
at home. From the time he was converted, he thought deeply
on the experimental and practical phases of religion, prayed
much and watched closely, was solemn and earnest in manner,
devout in spirit, and was largely influenced by the promptings
that actuated the Saviour in his great work. The class-meeting
attracted his special attention, and was richly blessed to his profit.
Of this part of our economy he became and remained a warm ad-
vocate, striving especially to lead all young converts to form the
habit of conforming to it.

Jn the fall of 1836 he changed his residence to Flemington,
but continued at his trade. In the mean time he was much ex-
ercised on the subject of preaching, but he did not entertain it
cordially. The idea of his ever occupying the position of a
minister of the gospel, seemed extremely foolish. His religious
advantages had been quite inferior, his education was very
limited for such a work, he was timid, retiring and slow of
speech, and so far as he could see, had not a single qualification
for so great an undertaking. Surely the thought must come
from the adversary, and the design be to lead him into trouble
and effect his ruin. Thus he reasoned, and earnestly strove to
dismiss the subject. But in this he failed, and the impression
so far from leaving him, continued to deepen, till it became a
502 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

source of great perplexity and even distress. This struggle was
of four years’ continuance, till finally he became fully satisfied
that the salvation of his soul depended on his consenting to warn
sinners to flee the wrath to come.

His first license to exhort bears date, Pennington, May 27,
1836, and is signed by ‘‘J. K. Shaw, preacher of the gospel.’’ It
was renewed Feb. 26, 1837, and signed by ‘‘Thomas J. Thomp-
son, P. E.’’ While acting under this authority, he was sent,
in the fall of this year, by Rev. Manning Force, to assist Revs. J.
Chattle and C. S. Vancleve on Asbury Circuit. His first at-
tempt to preach was at a woods meeting after he reached the
circuit. A brother who was present says, ‘‘ He began in great
fear and with much trembling, yet those who then heard him,
felt that God had called him to preach, and that he would be a
useful minister of the gospel.’’ After filling out the balance of
the year, he was transferred by the same elder, to Newton Cir-
cuit, where he spent the next year with Rev. J. S. Swaim. When
he first started on his itinerant mission, his father gave him a
horse and equipments, saying, ‘‘ Go, Mills, and do all the good
you can, for I have néver done any.”’

In 1839 he was received on trial by the New Jersey Confer-
ence, and afterward regularly passed to full membership and to
deacon’s and elder’s orders. His fields of labor were the follow-
ing: 1839, Warren; 1840, Vernon: 1841, Hudson; 1842, Port
Jervis; 1843, Milford; 1844-5, Ramapo; 1846-7, Dover and
Millbrook; 1848, Bergen; 1849-50, Rome and Wantage ; 1851—
2, Stillwater; 1853-4, Hope; 1855-6, Newton and Tranquility ;
1857-8, Frenchtown and Milford; 1859-60, Kingwood; 1861,
Wesley Chapel; 1862, Piermont and Tappan; 1863-4, New
Prospect.

In 1841 he received intelligence that his father, then in his
sixty-fifth year, and five or six other members of the family, had
embraced religion. This was joyful news indeed, and deeply af-
fected him. It conveyed a new and grateful confirmation of the
fact that ‘‘ the effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man avail-
eth much.”’ It took from his mind a heavy load of anxious con-
cern. And, most of all, he could now feel that those he loved so
tenderly enjoyed a good hope of heaven.
WILLIAM M. BURROUGHS. 503

April 11, 1849, he was united in marriage to Miss Sarah A.
Thrall, of Milford, Pike Co., Pa., an estimable Jady and excel-
lent companion, well fitted to share the toils, responsibilities,
and burdens of his ministerial life. One fact in connection with
this union is worthy of record as helping to delineate the sim-
plicity of his character. During his term there in 1848, the
young lady who afterwards became his wife, and for whom his
affections became warmly enlisted, then resided in the place.
And though he had been preaching six years, and had gradu-
ated to elder’s orders, yet so humble were the views that he en-
tertained of himself, and so fearful was he of burdening the
Church, that he felt it his duty to defer marriage. At the same
time his great prudence led him to withhold from the lady all
expression of his regard, lest she might become unduly en-
tangled at too early a date. His purity and freedom from suspi-
ciousnessare also shown by what was to many an amusing incident.
On the evening before their plighted vows were consummated,
he consented to preach to the congregation at Milford, and with
great solemnity announced for his text, ‘‘Set your affection on
things above, not on things on the earth.”

Mills Burroughs, as he was familiarly called, was of medium
height, rather stout build, somewhat inclined to corpulency, ro-
bust constitution, and vigorous health. He seldom had to halt
in his work on account of any physical disability. All his en-
gagements were met with prompt and uniform faithfulness.

As a preacher he occupied a fair position, which he attained
notwithstanding serious obstacles. His voice was heavy and un-
musical, and owing to the lack of early helps, was never properly
cultivated. And then he failed to overcome his great natural
diffidence, which rendered him so timid and fearful as to often
seriously embarrass him, and lead those who heard him to form
too low an estimate of his abilities. And perhaps he erred by
yielding somewhat to the notion that attention to style belongs
rather to those who are more highly endowed by natural gifts.
Yet he was a diligent student, acquired a fair knowledge of the-
ology and general literature, carefully prepared his sermons and
delivered them with great solemnity and earnestness. All were
impressed that they were listening to a man who felt that he had
504 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

a message from God, and whose great aim was to so deliver it
as to conceal himself, magnify the cross, and to the fullest pos-
sible extent accomplish the objects of his embassy. And if his
ministry was not specially attractive, it was highly instructive,
and well adapted to warn sinners and to edify and comfort be-
lievers. ‘‘Plain in manners and retiring in disposition, he
passed for far less than he was worth, as such men are wont to
do, yet he never failed during a ministry of more than twenty-
five years, to leave behind him in every charge abiding fruit of
his unpretending but useful labors. His record is on high,
and that record will one day show that through his godly exam-
ple and steady, persevering efforts many were turned to right-
eousness, and from the power of Satan unto God.’’ There is
other testimony to his uniform success and varying usefulness.
Many were saved from their sins through his instrumentality,
but his chief strength lay in his capability of inciting Christians
to a deeper spirituality and increasing faithfulness, and thus
building up the Church in faith and holiness. Could we but
give the items in these respects, they would furnish an interest-
ing and noble record.

The above quotation, and that which follows, are taken from
an obituary notice by Rev. N. Vansant: ‘‘ Few men have sus-
tained a more irreproachable character. In all his relations he
was a true man.’’ As a son, a husband, a father, a Christian
and a minister, he adorned the doctrine of Christ, and beau-
tifully exemplified thé Christian religion. His unflinching in-
tegrity, the modesty of his views in regard to his own claims to
consideration, and the tender solicitude with which he deferred
to the rights and feelings of others, rendered him a true Chris-
tian gentleman. From the time of his conversion, his motto
was holiness. And as is true, more or less fully, of all really
spiritual Christians, his inner life was marked by conflicts and
struggles, but his steady faith and unfaltering devotion, enabled
him to maintain outward uniformity, and, at the same time, a
constantly increasing spirituality.

In the midst of a laborious career of usefulness, he was sud-
denly and unexpectedly stricken down by congestion: of the
brain. The attack was of such a nature and so violent that he
WILLIAM M. BURROUGHS. 505

was not able to converse on any subject, and of course could not
communicate anything respecting his future prospects. But
this, though it would have been a satisfaction to his friends, was
not necessary. His life testified for him with great distinctness,
in behalf of the efficacy of the blood of Jesus to save from sin
and to sustain under the severest trials. There is hence no
room to doubt that the same saving efficacy was abundant and
availing in the dying hour. He was attacked on Friday evening,
and died the next Sunday morning, April 19, 1864, in the fiftieth
year of his age and twenty-sixth of his ministry. A widow,and
three daughters, whose ages range from fourteen to six, are left
to the sympathy and care of the church. May they follow him
as he followed Christ.
506 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

REV. WESLEY ROBERTSON.

“ Friends of my mortal years,
The trusted and the true ;
You are walking still thro’ the valley of tears,
And I wait to welcome you.”

Werstry Ropertson, the subject of this sketch, was born at
New Providence, New Jersey, on the 14th day of May, 1807.
At a very early period, bereft of both parents, and left in a
world of change and sorrow, he experienced with many an
orphan before him, the truthfulness of inspiration, ‘‘ When my
father and mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up.”’

When about fifteen years of age, he left the scenes of his boy-
hood, and went to Newark to learn a trade. While there, he
did not despise the sanctuary or the Sabbath, but soon found his
way to the Old Halsey St. Church, the birth-place of so many
immortal souls, where he heard the gospel from the lips of Rev.
John Creamer, the first Methodist sermon to which he ever
listened. : ‘

Remaining in Newark a short. time, he changed his mind in
reference to his employment, and finding a situation in Rahway,
removed to that place.

In the winter of 1828, during the early ministry of Rev.
Thomas B. Sargent, he came out from the world, experienced
religion, and immediately united with the church. He soon felt
it his duty to labor for souls, and do all in his power to promote
the interests of the Redeemer’s kingdom.

It was not long before he was promoted to the leadership of a
class, then to exhort, and finally, in February, 1834, he received
license to preach. In all these positions of responsibility, he
labored with intense zeal, and was honored of God.

On the 10th of March, 1829, he was united in marriage, with
Miss Margaret T. Worth, of Rahway, between whom there
always existed the fondest and purest affection.

'
WESLEY ROBERTSON. i 507

In the spring of 1835, Rev. E. Page, who had been appointed
to Freehold Circuit, needed a colleague. Rev. J. J. Matthias,
Presiding Elder, of East Jersey District, found Brother Robert-
son at Rahway, and immediately sent him to fill the place.

Here, he was both popular and useful, and the next year being
received on trial by the Philadelphia Conference, was returned to
the same circuit.

In 1837 and 1838, he was appointed in charge of Caldwell
Circuit. Here, he was blest in his efforts to do good, and suc-
ceeded in establishing a society and building a church at Little
Falls. Woodbridge was his next field of labor, where he re-
mained until 1841. He then removed to Westfield, Staten
Island, which appointment covered all the ground now occupied
by Woodrow, Bethel, and St. Paul’s charges. The present
church edifices at Woodrow and Bethel, were built under his
supervision, and during the two years of his stay there, about
four hundred were added to the church.

In 1843, he was appointed to Clinton Circuit, where over three
hundred professed conversion. The next year the circuit was
divided, and he was sent to that part comprising New German-
town and Parkersville. The flame of revival spread this year
also, and their borders were so far enlarged, that a society was
formed, anda church commenced at Mechanicsville.

Leaving New Germantown in 1845, he was appointed to Mid-
dletown Point. He remained until 1847, and was then sent to
Flemington. He removed from Flemington in 1849, and was
stationed at Bordentown. His residence at this place was most
agreeable, and his labors successful, the fruits of which remain,
a permanent blessing to the church. In 1851, he was sent to
Woodrow, Staten Island, but the health of his family suffered
so much, that he removed the next spring to Nyack, being the
first instance in his history, where he did not remain the full term
allowed by the church, and this one year removal was caused,
as stated, by the health of his family.

At Nyack he remained two years. His next appointment in
1854 was Quarry St., Newark, where his ministry was blest in
the salvationof many souls. In 1856, he was stationed at Belle-
ville. Here his health failed, but though feeble, he labored on,
and saw some fruit.
508 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

The following spring, having been twenty-two years in the
ministry, sensible of rapidly failing energies, he was compelled,
reluctantly, to ask a supernumerary relation to the conference,
and removed his family to Newark.

During his years of itinerant life, he received nearly two thousand
persons in the church, an average of nearly one hundred per
year. Among these were several now in the ministry of the
church he loved and served so well.

What was the secret of Brother Robertson's success? He was
a good preacher; but there was something back of this, that
gave him access to the hearts of men, whereby he won them to
the service of his Lord.

Hewasa goodman. None doubted his piety. He was in daily
and hourly communion with God. He believed in, and enjoyed
holiness of heart. He did not make sucha parade of his profession,
however, as said to those around him, ‘‘ Stand back, for I am
holier than thou,’’ but sweetly exemplifying the grace of humility
and heavenly charity he drew all persons to him, and then, by the
purity of his life and example, made them better by the associa-
tion. A minister said, ‘‘I was never so impressed with the
truthfulness of the doctrine of Christian holiness, as when I saw
it exhibited in his consistent life.’’ Another, who knew him
equally well, said, ‘‘ I never knew a man so intimately, of whom
I wish to remember so much.’ This purity and perfection
of Christian character was one great element of his power.

He had strong and unceasing faith. It never wavered. He
had strong faith in the atonement, on which, in sunshine and in
storm, he rested the interests of his own soul. Christ was his
personal refuge and rest. This refuge he felt was so secure, and
this rest so blessed, that with a heart. overflowing with love, he
invited all to the same enjoyment. He had faith too in God’s
providences. Dark clouds could not make him despondent, nor
could fierce tempests shake him. Rooted and grounded in the
faith, he stood like a rock in the sea. He had faith for others,
faith for the church, and faith for his bleeding country. This
faith in God gave him a heart to labor, and, as a consequence,
he seldom knew defeat.

In all his pulpit ministrations, he was aided by the blessed i'n-
fluences of the Holy Ghost. The Spirit of the Lord God was on
WESLEY ROBERTSON. 509

him. He was thereby a man of power. Thus anointed, Wes-
ley Robertson went everywhere preaching the word. A minister
asked him, one day, ‘‘ Brother Robertson, what is the highest
number of sermons ever preached by you in one day?” He re-
plied, ‘‘It is difficult for me to tell; twenty, thirty, and some-
times more. As I go along the street, I try to preach a little
sermon wherever I find an open ear.”’

Another element of his usefulness was his uniform cheerfulness.
He was never trifling, but always cheerful. He knew nothing
of what the world calls gloomy godliness. His soul was always
full of the sunshine of religious joy, and that joy beamed out
through every pore of his benignant countenance, until, like the
face of Moses, it was all glowing with the light of God. He
carried no clouds with him, but left the influence of his happy
spirit, and the light of his cheerful example wherever he went.
This cheerfulness was not the result of worldly prosperity, or
exemptions from the trials of life. He had been called to
stand where Habakkuk stood, and while there, could say, as
triumphantly as he, ‘‘ Although the fig tree shall not blossom,
yet will I rejoice in the Lord; Iwill joy in the God of my salva-
tion.’’ While a supernumerary in Newark, he entered into
business, and though not successful, yet he was happy; not be-
cause of disappointment, but in defiance of it.

Residing in Newark from 1857 to 1864, he was deeply in-
terested in all that involved the welfare of immortal souls and
the prosperity of Zion. During this time he worshiped mainly
in the Halsey street church, where several members of his
family belonged. On one occasion, Brother Bryan, who was
pastor at the time, found it necessary to be absent 4 few days,
and left the week evening prayer-meeting in his charge. When
the pastor returned, he found, to his great surprise and joy,
that the worn-out preacher had, under the blessing of God,
started a revival, and several had already been converted.

We now.reach an interesting, but, to us, sad period of his
history, the summer and autumn of 1864. The rebellion, with
all its terrible consequences, still raged. The colored man,
freed from the rigors of slavery by the victorious march of our
armies, was within our lines without spiritual care, and the sol-
diers of the Union were languishing by thousands in Southern
510 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

hospitals. Rev. John S. Swaim, of Newark Conference, and
brother-in-law to Brother Robertson, had been sent by the Mis-
sion Board at New York to Jacksonville, Florida, to look after
the interests of the church there, and to do what lay in his power
for the freedmen also. To that very place, a few months after,
Providence seemed to open the way for Brother Robertson as an
agent for the United States Christian Commission. In the fond.
hope of doing good to these noble but suffering men, and possi-
bly of benefiting his own health, he accepted the appointment,
and, though it involved a separation from his family, which he
tenderly loved, yet he looked forward to an entrance upon his
duties with the same strong faith and cheerfulness of spirit which
had characterized him in all the pursuits of life.

On the 18th of August he took an affectionate leave of his
family and friends, and on board the transport Fulton, left New
York for Jacksonville. The first evening he was out, in a letter
to his family, he says, ‘‘ After tea, I went to my room (alone),
and had family prayers, or did my part towards it. I remem-
bered you all, and thought I was uniting with you.’’ Two or
three days after, having had but a few hours’ sea-sickness, he
wrote, ‘‘I have enjoyed myself much. My state-room has been
a Bethel to my soul, morning, noon, and night.’’ When near
the end of’ their voyage, the wind blew a perfect gale. He wrote
to his wife, ‘‘ Just think of your husband kneeling on a chair,
(which was likely stationary) engaged in prayer for those around,
while the vessel rolled backward and forward to such a degree,
that I had to hold on to the chair to keep from falling over, and
yet feeling as calm and as much composed as when worshiping
in the Halsey street church. He arrived at J acksonville on the
24th of August. He felt there was a work for him to do there,
and entered upon it with spirit. On the 5th of September he
wrote, ‘‘I have just returned from distributing the papers for the
various offices, gun boats, wagon masters, and regiments, which are
away from here, up at Magnolia Springs, and other places. * *
Yesterday was another precious Sabbath to me. Ateight o’clock
I prayed with the Fourth Massachusetts Cavalry; at nine went
to Sabbath-school, and taught a class of colored persons—ages
from ten to thirty-five—some in reading, some in spelling, and
one, the oldest of the class, in her A B (’s; oh, what an inter-
WESLEY ROBERTSON. 511

est she manifested! She said, ‘I can say them forward, but I
don’t know them backwards.’’’ Soon after writing this letter,
he had a severe attack of typhoid fever, which continued several
weeks. Recovering somewhat, he wrote to his wife on the 10th
of October, saying, ‘‘The Lord has done it. He sent Dr. Mar-
cy, and he sent Sister Swaim, and with her, your own dear sel/,
in those tokens of love, from your own hand, grapes and apples,
and pears from Sue. [ told Sister Swaim it brought home right
here in my sick room. Brother Swaim has watched over me
with the kindness of a brother. Then too I have seemed to be
at home with you; I could see you all around me, and Minnie,
(a grand-daughter, whose mother was dead, ) the dear little girl,
how she has looked up in my face while sitting on your lap, and
called my name. The Lord has given me these home scenes to
keep me wp. And then I have been so happy all through.
Thank you all for these tokens of love. Thank Sue, and Will,
and Carrie, and Mary, and Wesley, and kiss Minnie ten times
for me. J expect to see you again in this world. Lean on the
Arm Divine, that will support you.”’

Soon after this cheerful and hopeful letter, he grew worse again,
and on the 28th of October, Brother Swaim wrote a long letter
to Sister Robertson, the first sentence in which is significant and
alarming. ‘‘ Since Wesley wrote to you concerning his rapid im-
provement, he is not so well again. Getting well a little too fast,
he has suffered a relapse.’’ The letter assures her that medical
stores and attendance were ample, every delicacy that could be
named was at hand, while friends were lavishing in kindnesses, and
nothing would be left undone in his behalf. Ina note appended to
this letter, dated Nov. 1st, Brother Swaim continues, ‘‘ All our
efforts to arrest the progress of disease have not availed, and he
is now lying very low.’’ On the 2nd of November, 1864, he writes
again, ‘‘ Dear Sister Margaret, with feelings of sorrow I cannot
describe, I have now to say to you, that our worst fears, as ex-
pressed in my note of yesterday, have been realized. To-day, at
twenty-three minutes before one o'clock, your dear husband quietly
breathed his last. But for the pain which he experienced, for
some days previously, it would hardly have seemed like death ;
so calmly, so quietly, so peacefully, did he sink away into rest,
his very features assuming a sweet and holy smile.’’ Chaplain
512 NEW JERSEY CONFERENCE MEMORIAL.

Hobbs, who sat up with him the last night of his life, said, ‘‘ He
was very happy, and seemed to hear music and singing. Ten
minutes before he died, he rose up, as if he wanted to say some-
thing, but unable to speak, he pointed upwards with the index
finger, then lying down, folded his arms across his breast, and
quietly fell asleep in Jesus.’’ Brother Swaim continues, ‘‘I
must now confine myself to an account of the disposition we
make of hisbody. We put him to-night in a zink case, air-tight,
inclose it in a firm box, and on Friday shall bury him in our own
yard, afew paces only, from the door, to be taken up when the very
first trading schooner returns to New York. It so happened how-
ever, that he didnotreturn by atrading schooner, but was brought
on, by the Transport Fulton, the same vessel, on which a few
months before, he had gone forth with such fond hopes of doing
good. His remains arrived safely in Newark, and on the 8th of
Feb. 1865, a solemn funeral service was held in the Halsey St.
Church, where forty-three years before, he heard his first sermon
from the lips of a Methodist minister. Rev. James Ayres,
preached an excellent sermon from Acts xi. 24, and all that re-
mained of Wesley Robertson was borne by his brethren in the
ministry to Mount Pleasant Cemetery, to await the resurrection
of the just.

Farewell, dear brother, the’ loved ones thou hast left behind
thee, are cheered in the!. sorrow, by the sweet assurance that
thou hast gained thy rest, while by the ear of faith they hear
thee say,

“T shine in the light of God;
His likeness stamps my brow ;
Through the shadows of death my feet have trod,
And I reign in glory now.”

THE END.
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