Div.Sch. BX 8491 .F589 1898 ^i DUKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY t \ ■i/U/-^-^^a^. 'y^^^^^, ^,<^^^2- 1R. /iRc^geire. Back of the well-formed man child, Holland Nimmons McTyeire, who was born in Barn^vell District, S. C, July 28, 1824, was a line of Scotch- Irish ancestors on the paternal side and of Irish pure and straight on the maternal side. These Mc- Tyeires and Nimmonses ^vere quiet people. The registers in the family Bibles tell us when and where they were born, when and Avhom they married, and Avhen and ^vhere they died. The record of their lives — ^vhat they said, did, enjoyed, suf- fered — is registered only in that book which will be opened at the final judgment. They achieved no special distinction in civil life, led no armies, %vrote no books, com- mitted no great crimes. They did nothing to make themselves famous or infamous ; so their brief record is birth, marriage, death. But the life of every one of them had its pleas- ure and its pain, its successes and its failures, its heart strain and its 79h share of heart break. The Hfe story of the least known of them all would possess a human interest for us, if told in nature's own language that finds its way to all human hearts. As we linger over the register the images of the men and women, the youths and maidens, and little chil- 'dren who bore these names seem to rise from the page, and then melt into the air, and vanish vs^ith the un- voiced millions who have come and gone and left no sign. John McTyeire, who was the first of the name in America, was born in Scotland about the year 1746. He made his home on the Northern Neck of Virginia, lying betw^een the Potomac and the Rappahannock, a part of Old Virginia in which the gayety and gallantry of the Cavaliers were tempered by the gravit}^ and tenacity of the Covenanters. The date of the removal of the family to South Carolina is not exactly known, but the famil}^ register in- 71 forms us that "John McTyeIre (son of the fore-mentioned) and Elizabeth Amanda Nimmons were married in Barn^vell District, S. C, January 5, 1820." These were the parents of Holland N. McTyeire, the subject of this booklet. John McTyeire, the father of our bishop, was a man of the true Scotch- Irish type — sturdy, of iron will, and quite fond of having his own way. He believed in good cotton crops. State rights, and Ar- minian theology. He named one son for John Wesley, and another for John C. Calhoun. In his day every Church member was a po- lemic and every voter a politician. Neutrality v^as impossible to a man of John McTyeire's blood, tradi- tions, and environment. Among the red-hot Nullifiers of South Car- olina, and the not less fiery minority who opposed them, he could not fail to have political convictions which he avo^ved with the freedom 72 1boUanJ> 1ft. ISscZ^cixc, and ardor characteristic of the coun- try and the time. Methodism had not then conquered a peace. Theo- logical controversy was the fashion among all classes, from the learned divines vs^ho hurled Hebrew and Greek at each other, to the back- woodsmen who laboriously spelled out their disputed texts from their well-thumbed English Bibles. When the McTyeires became Methodists cannot be stated exactly.- They were caught in the sv^eep of the great tidal wave of revival. All the existing religious denominations and all classes of people were made tributary to the great movement. The scattered and unfolded sheep of other flocks w^ere found by the un- tiring, ubiquitous Methodist circuit, riders, whose gospel presented to them the five points of a universal atonement, repentance, justification by faith, the witness of the Holy Spirit, and full salvation in the pres- ent tense. The McTyeires, husband 73 IbollanD 1R. IWscZ^cUe, and wife, believed, were converted, and forthwith joined in the song- of joy and march of triumph of the advancing Methodist columns. The Nimmons strain in the blood of the Bishop exhibited itself in the traits that in times of danger and sorrow have won for the gentle w^omen of the South the admiration of the world. His mother did not trouble herself concerning any the- ories of woman's rights, nor make complaints of woman's w^rongs. She knew how to blend law and love in family government. The family discipline might now be re- garded as rather sharp and stern. When IMethodism came into the family life, with its proffer of the love of God for all men, and its joyful atmosphere, every child and every servant on the plantation v/as a beneficiary of its power. Deep in the nature of this mother was a vein of quiet humor, which we may feel assured flowed more freely 74 when the hard rock of Puritanism was stricken by the rod of Jvletho- dism. A certain intensity has always characterized the South Carolinians. In revolutionary times the Whigs and Tories hunted and shot each oth- er from the swamps of the Pedee to the tops of the movmtains. Mar- ion's men typed the chivalry which stood the shock of Santa Anna's legions in Mexico, and rode with Wade Hampton in the war bet^veen the States. Andrew Jackson was born in South Carolina ; and John C. Calhoun, his great antagonist, was of the same metal. AVhen they collided the nation felt the shock. Breathing this social and jDolitical at- mosphere in his boyhood, our bishop imbibed impressions and influences that clave to him to the last. He was many-sided, and his mental ev- olution led him to the adoption of opinions and to the advocacj^ of measures unthought of when he was born ; but at heart he ■was a 73 South Carolinian to the day of his death. He was a solidly built boy, with grayish-blue eyes, lightish hair that became darker as he gre"w older, features regular and strong, head big and rounded, a frame straight and stout set on a pair of legs as sturdy as were ever used in a foot race, jumping match, tree climbing, or in any other of the numberless exercises by which a live boy keeps in motion all day long. He was not a precocious boy. No prematurely smart sayings of his childhood have been reported. He was reticent rather than voluble ; but he was ^vide-awake, and he greeted inquisitively all that he saw in this new, strange "svorld into which he had come. There were few idlers on that cotton plantation, Avhere he acquired a taste for natural history and ^rural life that never left him. Early to bed and early to rise was the habit of them all, white and 76 IboUanJ) 1R. /iftc^^eire. black. To have waited until after sunrise for breakfast for the family and " the hands," would have put the stigma of laziness and thrift- lessness upon a planter at that time. Holidays were fe\v, and were en- joyed with a relish possible only to people who work. An idler can have no real holiday. The boy that plows or hoes cotton all the week, turned loose to go fishing on Saturday afternoon, is more than happy — he is ecstatic ! The fields, the orchards, the creeks, and the ^voods give a thousand pleasures to a healthy boy unknown to city-bred youths. Fresh, outdoor air, much exercise of the muscles, and plenty of good, w^holesome food are the prime conditions of boy comfort. These young McTyeire had, and to the end of his life he always spoke tenderly of his early home in " old Barnwell." The first ten years of a boy's life color and to some extent . shape all that come afterwards. The 77 IboUanD 1H. /iRctTgelre. ground story of his character was laid during this period. At home he was taught to be respectful to his seniors and superiors, and to be submissive to rightful authority. Industry, economy, and systematic: living were taught him by his Scotch-Irish joarents. Not least among the educative influences brought to bear upon him during these first years was Methodism. The fii-st books and newspapers he- read Avere Methodist publications. The only preaching he heard was Methodist preaching, and the only preachers he met were Methodist preachers. The Methodist preachers then liv- ing and \vorking in South Carolina were men well calculated to make a deep impression upon the mind of the open-eyed, thoughtful boy who was taking in his first ideas of this great ^vorld. They were mostly men of large mold, grave, earnest, with exalted ideals of ministerial 78 character and an awful sense of ministerial responsibility. They were of different grades of social life and diversified talents, but with scarcely an exception they had one quality in common : an intense spir- ituality that illuminated their ser- mons, glowed in their prayers and mighty exhortations, and hallo^ved their intercourse with the people. They were men of one work, the products and the propagators of the great evangelical revival which was then at its flood tide in America. They carried with them a strange power that was felt by all with whom they came in contact. Among these men \vas William Capers, courtly and saintly, whose eloquence charmed the most cviltured circles in the cities ; while by its simplicity, sweet persuasiveness, and spiritual power it won to Christ the unlet- tered negroes on the rice and cotton plantations. And there was Sam- uel Dunwoody, a pulpit giant and F 19 DollanD 1R, /ifcctTi^eire, oddity, a mixture of the grand and the grotesque, whose satire burned like fire, whose pathos melted the most obdurate hearers, whose vmex- pected sallies of humor and bursts of declamation were equally start- ling ; James O. Andrew, after^A^ards made bishop, a great and good man, whose history is inseparably iden- tified with that of Methodism at large ; Lovick Pierce and Reddick Pierce, ^«r nobile yratrum ^ Lewis Myers, eccentric, capacious, and de- vout ; AVilliam ]\I. Kennedy, wise with the ^visdom which is from above ; Samuel K. Hodges, Andrew Hamill, Nicholas Talley, Daniel As- bury, James Norton, Hilliard Judge, John B, Glenn, Henry Bass, Reu- ben Tucker, and others of like cali- ber and quality. These were the men who built upon the foundations laid by Asbury, Coke, Dougherty, Gibson, Jenkins, Randle, More, Carlisle, Jackson, and their com- peers — the earlier fathers of South 80 IbollanD IR. /iRcITseire. Carolina Methodism. There was coming- forward a line of younger men who have proved to be their worthy successors : William M. Wightman, a prince in our Israel, whose eloquence v^hen he was at his best moved like a chariot of the skies, its wheels flashing fire ; Wil- liam A. Gamew^ell, a son of conso- lation, a faithful shepherd of the flock of Christ, who fed the lambs as well as the sheep ; William A. McSvs^ain, cast in a colossal mold both in mind and body, steady and strong ; William C. Kirkland, a very Nathaniel in guilelessness, with quenchless zeal for his Lord ; Whitefoord Smith, the texture of whose wonderful sermons was (as it were) of finest cloth, fringed with gold; John R. Pickett, large of bulk and large of brain, who sang like a son of Asaph, in whom w^ere blended in no small degree the elo- quence of a Whitefield and the hu- mor and adiposity of a Falstaff ; IbolIanD m. /Dbc^seirc. Charles Betts, devout, laborious, successfvxl ; Samuel W. Capers, strong physically and mentally, whose preaching was in demonstra- tion of the Spirit ; Henry H. Du- rant, wonderfully gifted in prayer, an able preacher, and a powerful exhorter ; Francis M. Kennedy, the saintly son of a saintly father, saga- cious, cultured, consecrated ; James Stacy, refined, earnest, self-poised ; and others who are Avorthy to be held in everlasting reinembrance. While a student at the Cokesbury Labor School at Abbeville, S. C, McTyeire was converted in 1837; in 1 84 1 he entered the sophomore class of Randolph-Macon College, and gradviated therefrom in 1844. For one year he was tutor in mathemat- ics and ancient languages in that historic school. He was licensed to preach in 1844; in November, 1845, he was received on trial in the Vir- ginia Conference ; in May, 1846, he was stationed at St. Francis 82 IboUanD IR. /Iftc^igelre. Street, Mobile, Ala., where in 1B47 he married Miss Amelia Townsend. He was transferred to the Louisiana Conference in 1848. In 185 1 he was elected editor of the New Or- leans Christian Advocate^ and in 1858 he became editor of the Nash- ville Christian Advocate. He had filled appointments as preacher in charge at Williamsburg, Va., Mo- bile, Ala., Demopolis, Ala., Colum- bus, Miss., and New Orleans, La. Transferred to the Alabama Con- ference in 1863, he was stationed in Alontgomery from 1864 to 1866. At the General Conference in New Orleans in 1866 he was elected bishop. The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred on him by Emory College, Georgia. At the Ecumenical Conference held in Lon- don, England, in 18S1, he served as Vice President of the Western Sec- tion. He was President of the Board of Trust of Vanderbilt Uni- versity from 1873 until his decease. 83 IbollanJ) IR. /iRc^^eire, He was the author of the following works : " The Duty of Christian Masters," " Manual of the Disci- pline," "A Catechism on Church Government," " Catechism on Bible History," "A History of Metho- dism," besides numerous sermons, essays, and addresses that have never been published in book form. It may yet be too soon to fix the place of the richly-endowed, many- sided McTyeire, than whom no greater man has appeared among us. His -work abides with us. His thoughts are printed in books that will live. The institutions that he helped to create bear the impress of his genius. As pastor, editor, bishop, educational administrator, and historian he touched his Church and his times at many points, and left his mark on all. In due time will be told the story of his great life, which is only glanced at in this booklet for our young people. An- 84 other hand, skillful and loving, will perform this service. Not every popular preacher is a great preacher, but Bishop Mc- Tyeire was a great preacher. The pulpit idol of one generation is for- gotten by the next. The thinker that preaches to a small but select audience while living often preaches to a larger one from the printed page when dead. Bishop McTyeire w^as great, judged by the highest standards. He had the advantage of a commanding person and a deep, sonorous voice. In the pulpit he was easy, dignified, and devout in his bearing. A grave simplicity was his chiefest charm. He was never stilted nor turgid. Declama- tion, strictly speaking, he eschewed. He excelled in exegesis, choosing his texts with great felicity and ex- pounding them with much clearness. He struck right to the heart of his subject, and hit it. If, in any dis- cussion, he departed from the beaten 2 85 IbollanD TR. /iRc^^eire. path, his exposition was ingenious enough to excite curiosity and admi- ration, even if it did not always com- mand acceptance. His method was his own. In sanctified wit he r'e- minded us of Dr. South. He was truly a spiritual preacher, because he was a spiritual-minded man. He spoke with authority as the messen- ger of God. His reverent spirit was contagious. The whisperers and gigglers were sober and quiet when they saw him in the pulpit. Though he seldom made any allusion to him- self in his preaching, there were passages in his sermons that showed that out of the depths he had cried vmto God. A tender touch — only a touch, for he could not be effusive — would now and then stir the deepest feeling in the hearts of such of his hearers as had known sorrow. Be- neath his calm exterior volcanic fires burned. He knew the wind- ings of the human heart, and could track the sinner to his hiding places. 86 Under his preaching the people were awakened, convinced, com- forted, edified. Those whom he served as pastor retained ever after a reverent and grateful affection for him as their spiritual instructor. In the families in which he had minis- tered to the sick, and whose dead he had buried, he was never forgot- ten. Great orators are more numerous than great editors. A hundred men are more or less eloquent where one is found to possess the indefinable touch that stamps him as a born ed- itor. Indefinable it is, just as the touch of a musical genius, as contra- distinguished from musical talent, is indefinable. A glance at a newspa- per in the one case, and the hearing of a single bar of a tune in the other, reveals the precious gift. "This young man has a gift," said Dr. Le- roy M. Lee, after reading some of McTyeire's first essays at newspa- per letter writing. The old editor 87 1bollan& IR. /iftc^^eire, spoke truly — the young man had a gift. There "was in his style an in- cisiveness and a sparkle that beto- kened the advent of a man of genius. McTyeire excelled in so many things that there is difficulty in applying to him the saying that men love most to do that w^hich they can do best. Whatever he did seemed to be his forte. The Church soon discov- ered that the new editor at New Orleans was a man of mark. His " leaders " were on live topics. The headings of his editorials were very striking and suggestive. He had what many gifted men lack, a sense of proportion : he did not ^vaste his space or strength on trifles. He winnowed the chaff from the wheat. His paper soon became an influen- tial organ of public opinion within the bounds of the patronizing Con- ferences, and beyond. He was not disinclined to controversy when oc- casion seemed to demand it. The retort he gave the Protestant Epis- IbollanD in. /Ilbc^^eire, copal Bishop Green, of Mississippi^ must have elicited a smile from even that amiable high-churchman him- self. Bishop Green wrote and pub- lished a series of letters on the uni- ty of the Church of Christ, in w^hich he gave special consideration to the relations of the Episcopalians and the Methodists, concluding after the manner of his school, \vith an invitation to the Methodists to " come back into the Episcopal Church." " That is cool ! " said McTyeire ; " the next proposition, we presume, will be to tzirn the jMississippi River into Bi(ffalo Bayou 1'^'' That was enough on that fallacious plea for unity that was not vmity. McTyeire went loaded (the reader will excuse this Western phrase) for bigotry and ar- rogance. Yet he ^vas truly irenic, recognizing the essential unity of all true followers of Christ, and ready at all times to extend the right hand of fellowship to all who truly 89 ©ollanD m. jfllbc^^eire. call him Lord. As an editor he was broad as well as incisive. His com- ments on current questions and passing events displayed a keen ob- servation, and a mind richly fur- nished by wide and varied reading. Pie had what might be called a genius for quotation. He covild take an extract and place it in an ed- itorial setting so striking that even the very author of the piece quoted would be agreeably surprised to see how good a thing he had said. The readers of his paper learned to look for something on the editorial page every week that would put them to thinking. About once a month he put his whole strength into a leading editorial. In the opinion of his readers many of these productions of his pen were worthy of preservation in more en- during form. Bvit it has been demonstrated again and again that such fragments, however rich or brilliant, cannot be built into literary 90 unity and solidity. Our great news- paper editors, religious and secular, enrich all the fields of contempora- neous thought and discussion, mold and guide public opinion, and have much to do in making the men who make history ; but as a rule the men who put their best thoughts into newspapers must be content with usefulness, leaving the prizes of en- during literary renown to the men who write books. The qualities that distinguished him as editor of the New Orleans C hristiatz Advocate were exhibited on a wider field when he was elected editor of the Nashville Christian Advocate^ the general organ of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. Under his editorship the paper gave no uncertain sound on any question involving Methodist doctrine, polity, or discipline. On the vital ethical qviestions of the day he spoke plain- ly and pungently. He was ortho- dox, yet progressive. He was 91 dreaded by some, adiTiired and fol- lowed by many. " McTyeire is the most dangerous man in the Church," said an ultraconservative doctor of divinity, who had been roughly handled by him in a newspaper dis- cussion. This was an involuntary tribute to a man vv^hose genius and po^ver of will had invested him with practical leadership years be- fore the suffrages of the Church gave him official recognition. Had he never been a bishop, McTyeire would still have been a leader. Whether his place in Methodist history could have been larger or smaller, we cannot say. He would have done a different work, but it might have been no less valuable. Religious literature might have gained what would have been lost otherw^ise. American Methodism has had no abler editor. In going over the files of the papers edited by him the discerning reader sees everywhere the work of a mind of 92 IbollanD m. /iRc^^eire. extraordinary power, and is charmed by a style scarcely equaled for its simplicity and forcefulness — the forcefulness mainly of Anglo- Saxon monosyllables shot straight at their object, rarely missing, and sure when they struck to bring down the game. While he was notably militant and aggressive as an editor, his columns were bright- ened ^vith flashes of the most genial humor, and his simple pathos was inimitable and irresistible. He had the insight and genuine sympathy that made another's sorrow^ his own. He vv^rote many memoirs of the sainted dead at the request of the bereaved, and in these sacred tributes depth of feeling, delicacy of touch, and consolatory suggestion were so blended that they were models of their kind. Clipped from his col- umns and laid away in secret draw- ers, they are treasured unto this day, and in quiet hours they are re- read with moistened eyes. 93 IbolIanD 1R. /IftcG^seirc; McTyeire was a great debater. Said Judge East, of Nashville : " McTyeire in a debate with a man of ordinary ability is like a man-of- Avar colliding with a little yawl — they are seen approaching each other, the man-of-war seeixiing scarcely to be moving at all, the yawl lightly and swiftly skimming the waves, until they meet — and then the yawl is invisible, and the big ship moves on as if nothing had hap- pened." Our astute Methodist law- yer gauged him well. He guarded himself against incautious statements or rash assumptions, and was careful in the use of words. He was ag- gressive in his method, acting on the military axiom that the momen- tum of attack counts for much. He never stood long in a defensive atti- tude, but, gathering his forces, threw himself against his antagonist with such vigor that only the very stron- gest could withstand him. He took part in one way or another in all 94 that was going on in the Church during the stormy transitional pe- riod in which he hved. Not seldom did it devolve upon him to be the special champion of opinions and measures that were hotly contested. He had enough combativeness and driving power to have made him a revolutionist, had not the grace of God made him a Christian man. He was half Irish, and that half at times seemed to be the whole man. The Scotch in him was not a noncombat- ant element in his constitution. Bishop McTyeire was a true child of the tribe of Issachar — a tribe noted for wisdom in statecraft — " men that had understanding of the times, to know^ ^vhat Israel ought to do." The men in Church and State who know what ought to be done in the present tense are few. Such men are born leaders. In times of peril or perplexity the peo- ple look to them instinctively for counsel and direction. Bishop Mc- G 95 Tyeire was one of these. With telescopic vision that could see afar off, he had also the microscopic eye that took in the details of contem- poraneous action. The opening chapters of his " History of Meth- odism " demonstrated that he could synchronize the events of an his- toric period, discern their subtle cor- relations, and follow their windings until they were merged in the mighty stream of universal history. The war of iS6i may have taken him by surprise, as it did the very men that precipitated it. When the "war came it found him very busy with his work as a minister of Jesus Christ, and, leaving the ci- vilians and soldiers to conduct State affairs and to lead the armies in the field, he kept his eye on the interest of the Church. He did not con- clude that the declaration of war suspended the Decalogue, or that the tumults of the world absolved him from the obligations of his sacred 96 office. He never sunk the preacher in the politician, the soldier, the sut- ler, or anything- else. When peace returned, his voice was among the very first that w^as heard rallying the forces of Southern Metho- dism. The effect ^vvas electric when he wrote a letter to the organ of the Church on the Pacific Coast af- firming that the lines "svere un- broken, that the Church had come out of the fiery trial undismayed, and was ready to resume its work wherever it had been interrupted by the war, and to go forward with fresh courage and confidence. He wrote in a similar vein to the Church at large. There were at that time weaklings, who were whining over the past ; cowards, who were quak- ing in dread of what might be com- ing in the future ; fanatics, who w^ere mistaking nightmares for heaven- ly visions ; ingenious triflers, who were straining the sublime symbol- ism of the Bible to bolster pet the- 7 97 ories of politics, or to interpret the plans and purposes of Omniscience. The voice of McTyeire rose sharp and clear above all the din and con- fusion of the time, and it was recog^- nized as the voice of a leader. It w^as a happy conjunction when Bishop McTyeire and Commodore Vanderbilt met — the masterful ec- clesiastic and the king of the stock exchange. There was a mutual lik- ing and admiration from the start. " Bishop McTyeire \vould have been equal to the demands of any position in the government or in business affairs," said the enthusi- astic Commodore, after spending some time in the company of his solid, deep-voiced, acute, many-sided, much-kno'wing visitor. The Com- modore's genius for affairs excited the wonder and admiration of the Bishop. It is likely that they were mutually surprised, the Commodore expecting to find in the Bishop a preacher with little or no knowl- 98 IbollanD m. /iRc^selre. edge of anything- or anybody out- side the circles of his own sect ; the Bishop expecting to find in the Com- modore only a keen money-maker, whose world was Wall Street. Both of them had a vein of humor that doubtless cropped out in their talks with each other. In the admirable portrait of the Commodore which hangs in the chapel of Vanderbilt University it is hard to say which trait shows plainest — shrewdness, pluckiness, or the humor that beams from the whole face ; while in the superb portrait of the Bishop, hanging near, the discerning eye detects the same twinkle of latent humor. It was after one of their talks that the Commodore, before retiring for the night, went into an adjoining department and drew a million-dollar check for the new university, which had been one of the subjects of their conversation. That both slept more sweetly be- cause of this "good-night" episode. we may be sure. If the Bishop dreamed at all that night, his dreams were of the shaded cam- pus, stately college halls, spacious shelves, filled with books, and all appurtenances of a inodern school of liberal learning. The Civil War had just ended. These men were on opposite sides. Commodore Vanderbilt had signalized his pa- triotism during the war by placing one of his fleetest and strongest ships at the command of the Fed- eral Government at a time when such a service meant much. Bishop McTyeire had felt and expressed the sympathies of a Southern man. Each in his way was a representa- tive man of his section, though both, would have repelled the im- putation of sectionalism In the nar- row sense of the word. But the war was over, and both of them had sense enough to know It and grace enovigh to be glad. The no- tion somehow got into the hard 100 IbollanD IFl. i^cZ^cixc. head of the Commodore that it would be a good thing for some Northern man who had the money to make a liberal benefaction in the shape of an educational endowment in the South, and he felt moved thereto himself. But through what agency could this benefaction best be made? When the suggestion was made that it be made nonde- nominational, a woman's voice — a voice he loved to hear — suggested that there was -wisdom in the ad- age that what was everybody's busi- ness was nobody's business. A well-worn adage never came in more opportunely. The Commo- dore decided to make it some peo- ple's special business. His purpose then took the most natural di- rection — namely, the Methodist Episcopal Chvirch, South. This v^as the largest religious body in the South ; through it he could hope to do the greatest good to the greatest number ; his beautiful and lOI IbollanD IR. ^ctT^eire. teloved wife had been reared in its communion ; and here was Mc- Tyeire, the man on whose broad, strong shoulders the whole burden of the grand enterprise could be laid. The hour, the occasion, the men had met — and Vanderbilt Uni- versity was born. The avowed motive of Commodore Vanderbilt was a patriotic desire to help heal the wounds of the war, and bring the North and the South into har- monious relation and enduring un- ion. The effect v\^as most happy. Vanderbilt's million of dollars was more potent than would have been a garrison of a million of soldiers. Not merely the Methodists, but the whole Southern people responded to the generous overture of the Northern man whose patriotism overleaped sectional lines, and whose liberality was not circumscribed by denominational prejudices. True patriots took fresh heart, and sectionalists were rebuked and 102 IbollanD 1R. USicZ^cixc. made to be ashamed of themselves. It was like a fresh proclamation of peace, cheering the hearts and brightening the hopes of good men, North, South, East, and West, who, coming out of the baptism of blood, were entering upon the new era of our national life with chastened spirits and anxious minds. The founding of Vanderbilt University resulted from the ineeting of these two men — the Commodore and the Bishop. The conditions were ripe, but, had they not met, the great enterprise wovild not have been pro- jected. Widely as their paths in life diverged, they kept in com- munication with each other, with constantly increasing esteem and good will. The University stands as an enduring monument of the beneficence of the one and the fidelity and administrative genius of the other. Bishop McTyeire was a self- poised, self-acting man, yet no man was more minute and skillful in his inquiries or took greater pains to get the consensus of opinion among his associates or the drift of public opinion concerning any matter af- fecting the welfare of the Church. But, like the shrewd and watchful Nehemiah, he could often say ^ " Then I consulted with myself." Solomon's aphorism that " in the multitude of counselors there is safety " may be accepted when the counselors are sensible, as well as numerous ; but there are occasions when a man can get the best coun- sel from his own brave, honest heart in the face of difficulties. Bishop McTyeire wished to know all that was being said and done in the Church. He was a constant and careful reader of the Church papers, not only from the force of former habit, but from a desire to know what our Israel was doing, and thus be able to judge as to what Israel ought to do. He seemed to. 104 have ears for all that was said, and his hand touched every wheel, great and small, in the machinery of the Church. But when he chose he could be as close as an oyster. In the crises that came not seldom in the discharge of his official duties, he sometimes surprised his intimate friends as well as others by a svidden coup de main that overthrew the strongest antagonist, or some coup cPetat that swept the field. On one occasion he transferred a preacher to an important station in another Conference, and was sharply criti- cised for so doing. The presiding elders disclaimed all responsibility for the act, and murmurings of dis- content -were heard from dissatisfied and disappointed parties. The mat- ter was mentioned to him, and he said : " It happened this way. I consulted the presiding elders more than once v^ith reference to that ap- pointment, and could get no two of them to agree on any man belong- 105 ing to their own body, and so I cut the matter short by sending a good man of my own choosing." That is to say, his advisers failing, he " consulted with himself," and cut the knot. The result vindicated the wisdom of his course. The trans- ferred preacher did a great work for the Church in that city, and person- ally took on a new mental and spir- itual grow^th. Bishop McTyeire loved little children. Said one ^vho knew him well : " Perhaps the most delightful picture wherein he ever figured was that w^hich he often formed in a romp with his grandchildren on the restful grass plots of the University campus. He personally interested himself in the children of his friends, prophesied a life course of blessing and honor for theixi, and thereby en- nobled their ambition and won their undying attachment." The tender side of his nature touched many re- sponsive souls. When he died the 106 whole Church mourned the loss of a great leader, while the objects of his affection and beneficiaries of his personal kindness felt that they had lost their tenderest, wisest, strongest friend. Bishop McTyeire died in Nash- ville on February 15, 1889, in his sixty-fifth year. His body rests in hope -with the bodies of Bishops Mc- Kendree and Soule on the campus of Vanderbilt University, and by his side sleeps his gentle, faithful Amelia, who was the good angel of his life and the light of his home. He seems still to walk among us — a noble figure, stalw^art, erect, gracefvil, the massive head thrown back, with a face at once benign and strong, the grayish-blue eyes penetrating yet kindly in expression, his gait the easy swing and elastic step of a man who is sure of his footing and knows whither he is going. In the perspective of the coming years his figure will grow larger. 107 ROBERT A. SMITH; Or, Bob Smith, The Christian Lawyer. 1819-1862. BOB SMITH— that is what they called him. Let it not jar upon the hearts of any wlio loved him. It was a pet name for a man much beloved and high- ly honored — spoken as the names of "Bob Lee" or "Old Abe" were spoken by their countrymen. Scholar, lawyer, follower of Jesus, friend of the friendless, helper of the needy, soldier, hero — Bob Smith holds a place all his own in Georgia Methodism, and this abbreviation of his name from affectionate admira- tion serves now to perpetuate his unique individuality, as in other days it made music in the ears of countless beneficiaries of his good- ness. It was a mighty gospel that tamed 109 IRobert 21, Smftb. his fiery heart. He was the son of a rich cotton planter who Hved in CHnton, the county seat of Jones County, in Central Georgia — Maj. Smith, a man who had high notions of personal honor, who took his " drams " when he felt like it, used profane language except in the com- pany of women, paid his debts, voted his party ticket, was shy of preachers, and on a big cotton plan- tation worked many negroes, to whom he was kind in his own im- perious way. He was a typical, planter of his sort, with a quick temper, abundant generosity, a firm persuasion that State rights was the true faith of a patriot, and that Cal- houn was its prophet. He -was over six feet high, large-framed, ruddy- faced, with a voice like a bassoon when he let it out. Middle Georgia at that time was both a political and polemic battle ground, and every man who was a man took one side or the other of 110 "Kobert B. Smitb, every debated question. Each man was a Democrat or a Whig, in the Church or out of it. The line of separation bet-ween the Church and the world was very distinct. The men who led the Church drew the line, showing- by Bible teaching and by the exercise of discipline that those who were not for it were against it, and so classified them. The old Major knew which side he was on, and in his bluff, emphatic way let it be known that he had no use for preachers, and that if they would let him alone he would give them as wide a berth. In his roomy mansion he dispensed a hearty hos- pitality to neighboring planters and to the lawyers who attended court at the county seat, made an annual visit to one of the mineral springs so abundant in Upper Georgia, sold his crop and occasionally a negro, thought himself a good citizen, and felt sure that he was sound on poli- tics and fox hunting. H "1 IRobert 21. Smitb. But it came to pass that a Meth- odist preaclier came to Clinton, and preached the gospel of Christ in his own wonderful ^vay, and the wife of Maj. Smith heard him and g-ave her heart to her Lord and Saviour. That preacher was Lov- ick Pierce. She was one of a great multitude of his spiritvial children, whose number cannot be known this side of the judgment day, when the books will be balanced and every man rewarded according to his work. " They that turn many to righteous- ness shall shine as the stars for- ever ; " the blessedness of which they are the instrumental agents is perpetuated and multiplied forever. Forever ! The faithful minister of Christ will wonder at the final judg- ment that he ever for one moment grew weary of such a service. The wife of Maj. Smith was a woman of strong character, and was blessed with a common sense that made her a blessing to many. She 112 IRobcrt B. Smitb. was a -woman of few words and great strength of will. She did less talking and gave more money than most women of her ability. If the old Major did not love her God and her Church as she did, he loved her, and let her have her own way in religious matters. He opened his purse to her, and she opened hers to her Church and to the poor and needy. He believed in her ; if his faith stopped there, it was good as far as it went. There were several sons in the Smith family — all handsome, full- sized, sprightly boys. Robert, or " Bob," as the town boys called hirA (he never lost his abbreviation as long as he lived), was a typical boy of the sort that love fun and mis- chief. He keenly relished a boxing match or a fight, and held to the code that the two cardinal and un- pardonable sins were lying and cowardice. Whatever may be said of that " chivalry " of that former 8 _ 113 IRobert B, Smitb. time — and undoubtedly it had its weak sides — the manhood develojDed under its influence was never sur- passed for truthfuhiess and courage. The Maj. Smith family had re- moved from Clinton to Macon. Robert Smith — or Bob, if you pre- fer it — was a well-gro%vn youth fourteen years old. George Foster Pierce came to Macon as the Meth- odist preacher. He was then in the very flower of his genius. The ad- miring youth was first captivated by Pierce's eloquence ; then under his pungent appeals he was con- victed and converted, together ^vith many others \vho helped each other in the new life they had begun, sev- eral of whom left their marks deeplv impressed upon the religious life of Georgia. The most notable of them all was the subject of this sketch. " Bob Smith has professed religion and joined the Church ! " was an exclamation that passed from lip to lip among his associates. It meant 114 IRobert B, Smitb. much to them, knowhig as they did his frank and fiery nature. The re- vival swept through all the circles of his association. The larger num- ber of the converts joined the Meth- odist Church, but not all ; other branches of the one Church of our Lord Jesus Christ were replenished from the fruits of that revival. This was no unusual thing ; Meth- odism has built up every other evan- gelical organization and strength- ened everything else that is good in Christendom. Its human founder, John Wesley, did not start out to create a ne"w ecclesiasticism ; his sole purpose was to revive spiritual holiness. The spirit of the new movement came, and God prepared it a body as it pleased him. Other religious bodies that ^vere dead or dying felt its touch, and were made to stand on their feet, and are be- come a great army, mobilized, march- ing on to the conquest of the world. The Pierces, father and son, have 115 IRobert B. Smitb. many of their spiritual children in other folds of the one flock of Christ all over Georgia, and beyond. There is not in all that land a church of any denomination that is not stronger, there is not a household whose life is not sweeter, because of them. That " revival " in Macon is widening in its influence unto this, day. For reasons that seemed good,, and were good, young Smith -was sent to Oglethorpe University, a Presbyterian institution of learning- near Milled geville, Ga. He was here the pupil and intimate friend of Prof. Charles W. Lane — "Charley" Lane, as he was familiarly and af- fectionately called. Blessings on his memory ! He was professor of mathematics and professor of re- ligion and possessor of it — the sun- niest, s^veetest Calvinist that ever- nestled close to the hearts of Ar- minians and all else who loved the Master's image when they saw it.- 116 IRobcrt B. Smitb. His cottage at Mid-way was a Bethel ; it was God's house and heaven's gate. The writer of these pages made special visits to it in the morning days of his own Christian life, and on leaving carried memo- ries that he treasures in his heart now, his faith in the Lord strength- ened, and his sense of his love deep- ened. And Prof. Lane's wife, beau- tiful in the beauty of refined and cultured womanhood, and more beautiful still in the beauty of holi- ness, which is its supreme form of manifestation — to know her made " it easy to believe in a heaven that is sinless, where white-robed saints enjoy together the vision of their beatified Lord, and are forever with each other and with him." The relation of teacher and pupil was merged into that of friends, and what they did to bless and bright- en each other's lives none can tell. Thus it was that while young Smith was working for his university de- 117 TRobe rt B> S mitb. gree, he was taking- highei" degrees ill the new life he had begun. If all our Christian teachers had the mag- netism and sunshine of Prof. Lane — stop ! I will not finish the sentence ; the gift of lovableness is not pos- sessed in the same measure by men equally true to their Lord. There was one disciple whom Jesus loved especially — on the human side, "we may say — and this Presbyterian professor of mathematics was cast in the same mold. Query here : Is it not possible that the least lovable of all our religious teachers might be- come more attractive, and conse- ({uently more influential on young lives, if they nestled, like John, more closely in the bosom of their Lord? Popularity is a talent. The man who has but one at the start may make it ten if he will put that one to usury as his Master directs. Amia- bility is natural ; spiritual attraction is supernatural. Young Smith graduated, and left 118 IRobert B, Smitb. the university fortified in his Chris- tian principles and active in the discharge of his Christian duties (thanks to God and to his faitla- ful teachers), not forgetting the prayers of his mother, w^ho, w^e may be sure, never forgot her boy in her approaches to the throne of grace. He then studied law. It v\^as expected somehow by most of his friends that he would preach. Then, as now, when a young man exhibited a little more zeal and en- ergy than was common among lay- men, the notion would be enter- tained at once that he was " called to preach." As if the Lord had no use for laymen who put religion first in all things and at all times ! It has happened that a young man has mistaken a call to be useful for a call to preach. And it has hap- pened that well-meaning but mis- guided men, preachers themselves, have vmvi^isely called men to preach who were uncalled of God. The 119 IRobcrt B. Smitb. soul can best settle that matter with him. If the fire of that call is in a man's bones, he will feel it and know it. Bob Smith certainly had the gifts and culture that would have raised him above the level of mediocrity as a preacher, but who can think that he was less useful as. a Christian lawyer? A Christian lawyer ! The w^ords, to some read- ers, may sound like a contradictioiT in terms. Nay, nay ! The shyster is the meanest of men — meaner than' the meanest of his criminal clients,, because to the cupidity of the thief and the cruelty of the murderer he- superadds the Satanic cunning pe- culiar to his craft. But there is no- higher style of man than a Christiai^ lawyer who is worthy of the name.. He has not only a heart moved by Christian impulses, bvit a mind trained to see clearly in all ethical' matters ; he knows what is right.. Take out of the history of civiliza- tion and the work of the Church of 120 IRobcrt B. Smitb, Christ what has been contributed by Christian lawyers, and who could measure the loss? When St. Paul told the young preacher, Timothy, to bring with him Zenas, the lawyer, he had nee'd of such a man in Crete, where the Church had been disturbed by " fool- ish questions, and genealogies, and contentions, and strivings about the the law," which he declared were " unprofitable and vain." Zenas was now a Christian, and his legal knowledge and training made him a safe adviser in the midst of all the babble that was going on. Every local Church organization on earth would be the better for having at least one Christian lawyer among its membership. May their tribe increase ! And may the shyster in law and the quack in medicine be kept out of the Church, and find their proper places in the penitenti- ary ! And who -would object if the dishonest tradesman, mechanic, and 121 IRobert B, Smitb. politician should be sent to keep them company ? Having been admitted to the bar, he opened his law office and began the practice of his profession. He was perhaps the busiest man in the city, and the best employed. "He had a great influence for good," says one who knew him well, " and oc- cupying the first place in Macon so- ciety, he exerted it in all circles." Yes, truly in all circles he made him- self felt for good. It is bewildering to think of all he did. But he found time — no, he took time — to be trus- tee, ste-ward, and class leader ; he taught the Bible class in the Sunday school ; he founded and superin- tended a mission Sunday school, out of which sprung First Street Meth- odist Church; he visited the county jail once a week ; he visited and re- lieved the sick and the poor, and in- cited others to do likewise ; to every good cause he gave liberally ; and took part in every Christian enter- 122 ■Robert 21, Smitb. prise. How he did it all was a marvel to all who knew him. The explanation is that he ^vas " diligent in business, fervent in spirit, serving the Lord." This threefold combi- nation — diligence, fervor, and the spirit of service — will work aston- ishing results in any Christian life. Of course he lived by rule ; he had set times for private prayer, and -was pvmctual in attendance upon public worship, and in the use of the means of grace. But his life did not re- volve on an axis of mere habit. His activity was limited only by his opportunity, and opportunity comes to such men in a way that the non- responsive and perfunctory pro- fessor cannot at all comprehend. A young man who had just risen from a long spell of typhoid fever at one of the Macon hotels, pale and weak and thin, attended the Mulber- ry Street Methodist Church one night, and heard a sermon by the pastor. On his way back to his 123 IRobert B. Smitb. hotel he suddenly found a hand upon his arm, and a friendly voice said : " Excuse the liberty I am tak- ing ; but, as you are a stranger, I introduce myself, and -with your per- mission will walk with you. I see that you have been sick, and are yet weak ; lean on me, if you please." The arm that he took is the arm that moves the pen that traces these lines on this page. The friendship begun that night -will never end. " Lean on me." Yes, yes, beloved friend of friends, I am leaning on you still. Many leaned on you while you were living ; your exam- ple and influence fortify and en- courage them to this hour. He w^ould not say it for himself, but -we will say it for him : " When the ear heard me, then it blessed me ; and when the eye saw me, it gave "wit- ness to me : because I delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him that was ready 124 IRobert H. Smitb. to perish came upon me : and I caused the -widow's heart to sing for joy. ... I was eyes to the blind, and feet was I to the lame. I was a father to the poor : and the cause which I knew not I searched out." (Job xxix. 11-16.) This Georgia lawyer might have sat for this picture ; it is a photograph true to the life. The inmates of the Georgia Academy for the Blind re- garded him with special affection. He was one of its Trustees or Board of Visitors, and every sad-faced child in the institution brightened at the mention of his name. The hardened faces of the malefactors in the jail softened in his presence and their hearts melted under his words, and some of them, helped by his prayers, saw the Sinless One who hung guiltless upon a cross, and found pardon and peace and salvation through him. The women who were sinners of the grosser sort — the Magdalenes who were sick or dying 2 125 IRobert 21. Smitb» "or penitent — believing that he was a true follower of the true Christ, who absolved the woman taken in her sin, who .had no pitying eye or kindly word from others, were pointed by him to the same all-lov- ing Saviour, and had their hell of sin turned into the heaven of his mercy. If he had one carnal hankering that clung to him, it was his military enthusiasm. He Avas not a Quaker. The Revolutionary blood was in his veins. He was captain of a famous military company, the Macon Vol- unteers. They w^ere gallant fellows, the flower of the yovxng manhood of the city. With their bright uni- forms, white plumes, and skillful evolutions they made a gallant show, and were the pets of the city. Once, when a half-serious allusion was made to his military ardor as rather incongruous with the rest of his char- acter, he answered with warmth : " I pity the man whose pulses do- 126 IRobert B. Smitb, not thrill at the sound of the drum and the fife." He loved that sort of music, but he loved the songs of Zion still better, and the voice of prayer. He was in this matter not much in advance of the Christen- dom of his time and of this time. War is not yet an extinct barbarism ; but it will be when Christendom, so called, becomes really Christian. At that time in Georgia there was a special interest among our people with regard to Sanctification. Such ministers as Edw^ard H. Myers, William M. Crumley, T. J. Pearce, Walter R. Branham, James E. Evans, Robert B. Lester, and last, but not least, Samuel Anthony, were deeply concerned about it. The lit- erature of the subject was specially studied, and they were fired with zeal that was consuming. They set the standard of religious attainment high in their sermons, and tried to live accordingly. Then, as now, there were differences in the statement of I 127 IRobert H. Smitb. the doctrine, but there "was a general adherence to Bible terminology in the presentation of the subject, and general agreement that Sanctifica- tion in a true and blessed sense was attainable, and therefore to be sought and enjoyed by every child of God. Child of God? The familiar Bible phrase carries with it in this connec- tion a whole world of gracious sug- gestion to the thoughtful, respon- sive believer. The child of God is the heir of God. Who shall limit his patrimony of grace ? All Geor- gia vs^as on fire ; the holy flame il- luminated its pulpits, and glowed in the social meetings and homes. Laymen like Matthew Rylander, of Macon, caught its breath ; who that ever heard him in one of his mighty prayers could doubt that he had re- ceived a touch from the live coal fresh from the altar? A prayer meeting talk by Robert Smith, the singing led by Ed Saulsbury, and Rylander giving the pitch to its 128 IRobcrt B. Smftb prayers, recalled New Testament history, and demonstrated that the breath of power and the tongues of fire were still in the militant Church of our Lord Jesus Christ. Though he never professed entire Sanctifica- tion, so far as is known, Smith lived a consecrated life. Fortunately, the prevalent interest in this matter did not expend itself in controversy to any considerable extent. Full con- secration in the present tense and love in full measure as its fruit were the points preached and practiced. They found the word " Sanctifica- tion " in the New Testament, and they were not afraid of it on the one hand, nor did they make it a party watchword on the other. They sought rather to " walk wor- thy of the vocation wherewith they were called, with all lowliness and meekness, with long-suffering, for- bearing one another in love ; endeav- oring to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace." (Eph. iv, 9 129 IRobcrt 21, Smitb. 1-3.) The proof of inward union is outward peace. Unity of faith^ experience, and practice is main- tained by lowliness, meekness, and long-suffering. Above all their gifts, and graces they put on the charity (love) which is the bond of per- fectness. When this grace girdles^ the Church it shines in holy, beau- ty, and its peace flows as a riv- er. Sanctification was preached and sung and prayed and practiced, but rarely was it made the subject of dispute among brethren. Call it perfect love, and preach it and IWe it, and Sanctification will be our joy and our song as it was with our fa- thers. The great joy of his life on the human side and its greatest sorrow came close together in his marriage to Katherine Dowdell and her death the same year, 1850. She was a woman of rare loveliness of person and of character, and he gave her the devotion of his great manly soul. 130 IRobert B, Smltb» Her death seemed to intensify his devotion to the Church. Following in the footsteps of his Lord — if the expression may be ventured without seeming presumption or irreverence — after she died the Church became his bride. But her image never left his soul. Five years afterwards, in a letter to the writer of this sketch dated Macon, April lo, 1856, he writes : This is spring, Oscar. Before it came I thought of its coming: of the resurrec- tion in nature, of flowers, of forest leaves, and vernal song. She who made life all spring to me, she who lingered with me but one spring and fell asleep before the flowers withered; she who haunts the springtime still — I feel her breath in the breeze, the touch of her soft hand seems left on the flowers, the tender light of her eyes is in my vision, the gliding form seems to have been late in mj chamber, and I look up ; but she is gone. Five years are but a dream. She was here. I never think of her dust sleeping under the long-leaved pine, for she said: "I shall soon hear the angels sing, and sing with 131 IRobert B. Smitb. them in heaven." I never heard her sing but once ; I long to hear her sing again. Shall we not learn the new song unto him that loved us? In another letter to me, written the same year, he reminded me that heaven was as near from Sonora,. Cal., as from Macon, Ga,, and said : " Let us burn here with love now, so that we may burn before the throne forever." A little more than a year after- wards, on June 22, 1857, in another- letter from him, alluding to an ex- pression in one of my letters to him, he speaks characteristically in these words, which the reader will think, worth quoting : You tell of trials, and speak of jour Deliverer; you wrote of storms, and of Him who walks the waves and stills the storm; you were crowded with duties, but crowded with mercies. Crowded with mercies? O yes, how mercies crowd around us, above us, within us, beneath us! mercies from on high, new every morning, crowding early; mercies. 132 IRobert B. Smitb. in the air, tlie light, the sunshine, the shade, the storm ; mercies in food and raiment, in health and sickness, in trials and tribulations, in friends and foes; mercies in the home and solitary place, in the city and in the field, in the family and in the midst of strangers, in the closet and in the sanctuary, in the altar and the Sacrifice, in the pulpit and in the High Priest; mercies in all things, everywhere, higher than the heavens, enduring for- ever; mercies like daily manna, the an- gels' food ; like the night dews unseen dis- tilling, on Hermon seen, watering, re- freshing, enriching, rejoicing; like the early rain, the liberal showers, the need- ful latter rain; like the unseen, all-seeing wind, breathing, enlivening, blessing; like the wind free, like the wind in power, like the breeze gentle; like Mother Earth never failing in springs and streams, and fruits and flowers; like the exhaust- less sun in perpetual copious light ; like the heavens stretched out over us, forever covering us; mercies minute and infinite, opening the eyelids of the soul, and like angels bearing the soul from the darkness, sin, and slime of earth into the presence and communion of the All-merciful One. O the mercies of our God over man un- godly, forever singing to draw from man 133 IRobert 21. Smitb. a song! Mercies in crowds and single — all like God the Giver, and in each his smiling face is seen to one who sees through contrite, grateful tears. The reader -who is familiar -with the Bible will see that it is a para- phrase of Bible language on the mercy of God by one who was sat- urated with its spirit, and used its form of speech as a matter of course. The dialect of Canaan had become as natural to him as the provincial- isins of his native Georgia are to its many humorists on the platform and on the printed page. From this same letter another brief extract is given : Truly you are an itinerant, but you can read the eleventh chapter of He- brews and rejoice. When you and your w"ife grow weary, pray together for a lively view of the rest in reserve. When your hearts yearn for the East, turn your longing eyes to the home above. O may you always have a heaven in your hearts! When you open the door, I know Who will enter in and sup with you. One hour with Jesus can repay you for toiling 134 IRobert H. Smitb, through a sea of troubles. Amid all jour duties be sure to enjoy a happj hour with him morning, noon, and night. He ■will he "With you ahvays if you love his coin- pMiy. Do jou expect him to do many mighty works in San Jose this year? He can do " exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think." Cast in your net on the other side of the ship, and then " draw in." In all your desires, purposes, and sup- plications hear the Voice sounding from above, saying: "Prove Me." Can the wind blow on more bodies than the Spirit can on souls? Sow the seed of eternal life not only among the congregation who hear the word, but bear it from house to house, from man to man, until you have sown a large field ; then call for the Sun, the dew, the rain, and the wind ; then reap a harvest with songs of great joy. Pardon these words from your brother. You know that I covet for your hire many souls. How many, O how many souls in San Josd will the Lord give you? May he add unto the Church daily such as shall be saved! The young preacher in California to whom he wrote many such letters, knowing him as he did, recognized in every word a heart throb. He wrote in this spirit to many men 135 IRobert B. Smttb. and women. His pen was conse- crated to his Lord, and by it he yet speaks. He made it a rule — nay, it might be better to say that his glo\ving Christian heart prompted him — to try to do good to every soul within his reach. The gifted, but skeptical and rather cynical, Gov. George W. Towns was by his influence brought to Christ, and died in the enjoyment of a satisfying Christian experience. While on a summer visit to the North he met on one of the Hudson River boats a lady and her sick daughter, who was perishing slowly by pulmonary consumption. Acting upon the principle or impulse that ruled his life, he sought their com- pany, and tendered them the courte- sies and little good ofiices so much- appreciated by gentlewomen w^hen rendered with the delicacy and grace of the true gentleman. Then, with the tact born of a Christian zeal that was according to knowledge, he; 136 TRobert B. Smltb. talked to the fair invalid about her soul and her Saviour. Sometime after his return to Georgia he re- ceived a letter from the mother, grief-smitten yet grateful, telling him that her daughter had by his influence been led to Christ ; that she had found peace in believing, and had died a happy Christian. He thus sowed beside all waters. The harvest was rich ; how reproductive it was and is cannot be estimated now : the day will declare it. When the war between the States began, he took the field with his company, the Macon Volunteers, and was among the first of the Georgians to report for duty in Vir- ginia. He was elected colonel of a regiment of Georgia soldiers in rec- ognition of his courage and ability as an officer. Though his health had been much impaired, he refused to take a furlough. The battle of Seven Pines came on, and he was with his regiment in the thickest of 137 TRobert 21. Smitb. that terrific fight. While leading his regiment in one of its desperate •charges he fell, shot through the body, and died in a few minutes. What a death for such a man ! It may have been a Methodist marks- man who pulled the trigger of the rifle that laid him low. And how strange seems all that bloody conflict now ! Stone"wall Jackson and How- ard, Fisk and Colquitt — Christian men on opposite sides — settling a difference of opinion with carnal weapons more than eighteen centu- ries after the angels at Bethlehem sang their song of joy at the advent of the Prince of Peace ! The golden age is coming when the nations shall learn war no more ; but I weigh the words when I say, in closing this booklet, that no soldier of Jesus Christ was truer to his Lord, no soldier of the " Lost Cause " was truer to his political convictions than was this man, whose name is the synonym of what is noblest in 138 IRobert B. Smitb. genuine manhood, and what is most admirable and worthy of imitation in Christian character — Robert A. Smith. His body sleeps at Rose Hill Cemetery, Macon, beside the bodies of his father and mother and his beautiful bride who died in her bloom, the Ocmulgee flowing by as it did when he played on its banks or sported in its waters. 139 ROBERT ALEXANDER, The Pioneer Missionary to Texas. 1811-1882. ROBERT ALEXANDER, Missionary to Texas " — that was his appointment as it was read out at the close of the Missis- sippi Conference held at Natchez in 1837. Missionary to Texas ! He was the man for that work. It was a big appointment for a big man — big every way, in body, brain, and soul. In 1837 Texas was as big as it is now, covering eleven degrees of latitude and thirteen of longitude, with 175,000,000 acres of land. Missionary to Texas ! It was an heroic movement, with a tinge of romance. At that time Texas was a Mexican province. Protestantism 141 IRobert BleianOcr, ■was an outla^ved heresy. Roman- ism had long been the established religion, so called — that is, the re- ligion of the Mexican Empire. But no civil power can " establish " the religion of Christ, who said : " My kingdom is not of this world." The day for state religions is passing away. The King of kings is the only Supreme Head of the Church. At San Jacinto the desperate valor of the heroic Texans won the in- dependence of Texas. The blood tingles to this day as we read the description of their resistless charge over the breastworks of the Mexi- cans. When Texas independence was won, it was only a question of time when religious freedom would come in with an open Bible and a free gospel. Robert Alexander was one of the many gifts of Tennessee to Texas in the formative period of its history. He was born in Smith County, in the Cumberland River hill country, 142 IRobert 2llcianJ)er. where the springs were sweet and cool, the creeks clear and sparkling, the forests thick and grand, the fruits luscious, the grain crops luxu- riant and of good quality, the women womanly and sweet, the men man- ly and brave, and the Methodists many and militant. Smith County adjoined Sumner County, which gave Col. Jack Hays, the renowned Ranger, to Texas, and many more of like quality, though less famous. Young Alexander was awakened to a sense of his condition as a sinner, was thoroughly converted to God, and united with the Methodist Church in 1828, at the age of seven- teen ; in 1829 he was licensed to ex- hort; in 1830 he was licensed to preach, and the same year he was ad- mitted into the Tennessee Conference on trial. He served in turn the Bed- ford, Goose Creek, Fountain Head, Murfreesboro, and Mill Creek Cir- cuits. He was first transferred to the Alabama Conference ; but before J 143 IRobert BleianOer. he had entered upon that field he was transferred to the Mississippi Conference, and appointed to Port Gibson and Grand Gulf, In 1835 he was made Superintendent of the Chickasaw District, and began the sort of work which thenceforth was to be peculiarly his own, the occu- pancy and organization of new fields of evangelization. In the fall of 1836 he was stationed at Natchez. Before that year closed he was ap- pointed to a larger field as missionary to Texas. His family was of the North Carolina Alexanders. They were a sturdy clan. Covenanters in Scotland, and among the very first to set the ball of liberty to rolling in America. Two of them vv'ere sign- ers of the Mecklenburg Declara tion of Independence. It was a fam- ily much given to preaching, pedago- gy, and a patriotism ever ready to talk or fight for their country. They made Presbyterians of the stron- gest and best type. Such of them as 144 TRobcrt aieianDer. became Methodists went their whole length as Methodists in their theolo- gy and Christian experience. When one of them was a Hardshell, he was hard indeed — double-cased and almost impenetrable. And when one of them was on the devil's side, he was no halfway adherent of the Prince of Darkness. Robert Alexander -was truly well chosen as Missionary to Texas — a man six feet five inches high, straight as a Tennessee poplar, with reddish hair (the reader may know just what that shade is), kindly but keen blue eyes, a face with as many angles as a conch shell, thin lips expressing indomitable purpose, and a gait easy, quick, and strong, suited to one who loved to go and tvould go when and whither God called him. Robert Alexander, on receiving his appointment as missionary to Texas, at once started for his work on horseback. There is no record extant of his long ride through the 10 145 IRobert aieian&er. forests, swamps, and prairies. Such a record would have made as good reading as Asbury's Journal. Our heroic old pioneer bishop never made a journey through a region more in- teresting in its natural features or more abundant in hardships or more lively in its incidents. But our tall missionary was never much given to writing ; he was from first to last a traveling preacher who made his- tory for others to write. He crossed the Sabine River, and entered Texas in Sabine County, August 19, 1837, and that very day preached his first sermon to the people. The next day, and the next day after that, he also preached. Within five weeks he had organized the San Augustine Circuit, held his first Quarterly Con- ference in connection with a camp meeting, and licensed two men to exhort, both of whom afterwards be- came traveling preachers. Leaving in the hands of the two licentiates the work he had thus organized, he 1* 146 IRobert BleianOet. hurried on to Austin County, where he held another camp meeting and ■organized the Washington Circuit. That is the way the Missionary to Texas began his "vs^ork. It almost takes one's breath to keep up with him ! Little time had he for entries in a diary or for writing letters to the Church papers, if there had been any to write to. As he began, so he continued for forty-five years — a swift-moving itinerant, a missionary de facto ^ in whose tracks freedom, civilization, and evangelical Chris- tianity sprung up and flourished. The Texas people recognized in him the qualities that compel confidence and respect. "As a man he was just, honorable, and brave," says a Texan who knew him well. These three descriptives put him before us as he was — just, honorable, brave. Bravery there and then was a quali- ty not to be despised. There were many rough fellows who had to be met on their own ground, and lewd 147 IRobert aician&et. iellows of the baser sort who could not understand moral suasion, and were ready to mistake meekness for cowardice. Such a fellow was one Johnson, who, at a religious meeting near where Milam now stands, appeared on the ground with a heavy whip in his hand, and de- clared that he would flog the first preacher who took the stand. Just then the stalwart Needham J. Al- ford, a Methodist local preacher, rode up. He was apprised of John- son's threat. « Well," said he, " I am as able to take a whipping as any man on this ground," ascending the stand or rostrum as he spoke, and stretching forth his long, brawny arm. Johnson looked keenly at the strongly built, sinewy preacher — and quietly left. This incident is given here to illustrate the men and the times, not to encourage imitation. Muscular Christianity may have its value and its place. But it is not its highest type. The fortitude which 148 IRobert BIcianDer. is the chronic form of courage is that which is needed in all the work of the Christian ministry and in all Christian service everywhere and at all times. When in an angry mo- ment the impulsive apostle Peter jerked his sword from its scabbard and cut off the high priest's servant's ear — aiming to cut off his head in- stead — he did what some w^ould call a brave act, yet Peter was the very man who weakened and quailed M^hen his blood had cooled. But in the school of Christ he was a learner until he attained unto the loftier courage that not only dares, but en- dures. He endured to the end, dy- ing a martyr's death w^ithout flinch- ing and without bravado. The tra- dition that he asked to be crucified with his head downward is probably an invention ; such a request was not the normal expression of the charac- ter of the Peter who w^as chastened in spirit, ripened in experience, and ready for his change. Alexander 149 IRobert Blcian&ec. had genuine bravery in every good sense of the v^ord. "A sight of his stalvs^art form and unquailing eye satisfied evil-disposed persons that it inight be a pretty serious business to attempt any undue familiarities," says Dr. Thrall, the historian of Texas Methodism. Alexander's common sense was as conspicuous as his courage, and he had v\^hat one who knew him well styled " a mellow Christian experience." This last-mentioned attainment was chiefest of all ; w^ith- out it, with his environment and un- der the pressure of the circumstances, he might have gone into politics and made shipwreck of faith, or been •drowned in secularity in some one of the many ways in which it ap- peals to men of exceptional ener- gy and brain power in a new coun- try. Turning neither to the right* hand nor to the left, he w^ent straight on in the discharge of his duty as a Methodist preacher. " He was on 150 IRobert Bleian&er. circuits and stations thirteen years ; -presiding elder, twenty-three ; Bible Agent, four ; and on the superannu- ated list, four. In the absence of a bishop he was four times elected President of the Texas Conference. He was elected reserve delegate to the General Conference in 1844; 'was a delegate to the Convention -at Louisville that organized the Methodist Episcopal Church, South ; and was a member of every Gen- eral Conference until his death." (Thrall's "History.") While Dr. Alexander was popu- lar with the masses of the people, he w^as specially and powerfully influ- ential with the public men of Texas. His commanding person, his ^vell- known ability as a man of affairs, his public spirit, and the aggressive ener- gy exhibited by him in all that he un- dertook, impressed the leaders and representatives of public opinion, and gave him immense power for good. " No man," says his memoir, 151 IRobert 2lIeianDer» " has done more for the cause of Christ and public virtue in Texas than Dr. Alexander." This is the simple truth, and how much it means ! For a coward, who feared the face of man, or a trimmer who diluted the gospel or compromised with sin in high places or worldli- ness in the Church, the hardy, fear- less Texans had no respect. Dr. Alexander knew all Texas, if any man did. Through him every Christian communion in the State had been replenished in its numbers and strengthened in its spiritual life. "He left the impress of his charac- ter upon every Methodist institution in Texas," was well said of him after his death. His character — that was the secret of his solid and abiding influence. He was agent for our denomina- tional schools in Texas at a time ■when such service meant hard toil, little thanks, and small results. Long journeys among a scattered 152 "Kobcrt BleianOer. population, indifference with many, poverty in one place, stinginess or ignorance in another, with here and there a man or ^voman with sense enough to see the need and money enough to give something for Chris- tian education — this was the work as he found it. The history of Methodist schools in Texas, like that of other Conferences, is a his- tory of hard struggles, partial suc- cesses, and many mishaps. To go over this history in detail would be poor reading ; it would be like walk- ing through a graveyard. Five in- stitutions of learning were at time& started in Texas, each bearing the name of one of our bishops — Soule University, Andrew Female Col- lege, Marvin College, Paine Female Institute, and Parker Institute. These beloved chief pastors them- selves are not deader than these institutions that bore their honored names ; but, like them, their influ- ence survives and links itself to liv- 153 IRobert BleianOer* ing forces that will never perish from the earth. Dr. Alexander had his full share of travail of soul at the birth of these educational in- fants, and was one of the chief mourners when they died. The Texas Methodists, like others, at- tempted too much : they " over- cropped " in this matter of starting schools, as nearly every other An- nual Conference in our Church has done, with the same disastrous and inevitable results. Like the rest of their brethren, they have learned wisdom from experience, and are now pursuing an educational policy of unification and friendly correla- tion, and are doing better work than ever before. Dr. Alexander also had his full share of the labor and anxiety at tendant upon the maintenance of t. Methodist newspaper press in Texas. What a history is here ! Beginning with R. B. Wells in 1847, and com- ing down to T. R. Pierce in 1896, 154 IRobert BleianDer. only one year is lacking to make it half a century since this struggle be- gan. In 1849 Dr, Alexander with Dr. H. S. Thrall, by authority of the Tex- as Conference, contracted for the publication of a \veekly paper, to be called the Texas Wesley an Banner^ in the city of Houston for one year. The paper was popular, but the re- ceipts did not pay its expenses — the old story. The publishers had to make good the deficiency ; the edi- tor got the " glory," Dr. Alexander did not like to write, and his breth- ren did not expect that he would ; but they did expect that he would lubricate the wheels of the print- ing press with the fiscal oil that would keep them going, and he did it. When his name was connected with a Church enterprise of any sort the people looked for an admin- istration honest, sensible, and ener- getic, and a veracious report of what was done. They trusted him with- out reserve, and he never betrayed 155 IRobert 2lleian&er. their confidence. The Southwest- ern University and its correlated schools and the Texas Christian A.dvocate are now on a solid basis, and doing excellent work for Chris- tian education and Christian litera- ture in Texas. When the names of their benefactors are placed upon the roll of honor by Texas Metho- dists that of Robert Alexander will be found near the head of the list. He was one of the first in the work, and kept at it to the last. Doubtless the four years of his superannuation were the hardest of all to him. Holy men who have no fear of death have dreaded this or- deal. The disciplinary phrase is : " Worn out in the work.'''' Worn out ! It is the badge of knighthood. Dr. Alexander was literally worn out in the work of the Lord. His last years were marked not only by failing strength, but by intense phys- ical suffering. Again and again he came under the surgeon's knife, en- 156 IRobert HleianDer. during, as one has said, what would have killed several men of ordinary •constitution. This was the ultimate trial of his faith, and may we not conclude that it was also the crown- ing work of the Lord in the devel- opment of his Christian character? It must be so ; there is no other ex- planation of the fact that in this life the best men and women are often the greatest sufferers. The heart knoweth its oivn bitter7iess. Every great life has its Gethsemane. In the fires the Lord is glorified by his servants. The greatest and stron- gest souls suffer in silence. Dr. Al- exander grew in grace in the midst of his sufferings ; patience had its perfect v^^ork ; the sweet flower of hu- mility bloomed in diviner beauty in his trustful soul. While he lay suf- fering a friend suggested to him that he ought to find consolation in the reflection that he had lived a life so long and so useful. " Don't say that," he broke in, " don't say that ! 157 "Kobert Bfcian&er. I have done so little, so little ! When we have done all, we are unprofita- ble servants, having only done our duty." The dying- preacher's hope was in the divine mercy only ; eternal life was the gift of God to> him through the Lord Jesus Christ. The end came at Chappell Hill,Tex.^ in 1882. He w^as a typical Texas. Methodist. He was the first regu- lar itinerant preacher in Texas. At his death the number had grown to over 500, and Texas was divided into six Annual Conferences, with 800 local preachers and 20,00a Church members. At the close of 1895 there were in these Texas Con- ferences 770 traveling preachers^ 1,013 local preachers, and 182,426 Church members. They are still marching on, and at the head of the moving host we may, in our mind's eye, still see the tall form of our first Missionary to Texas — Robert Alex- ander. 158 JAMES A. DUNCAN. 1830-1877. lAMES A. DUNCAN was I born in Norfolk, Va., April vl>^ 1 4, 1830. In his nativity he was doubly fortunate. He was born in a good place of good stock. His father, Prof. David Duncan, was a sound scholar, a clear, keen thinker, v\^ith a will power that was forceful and persistent, a quiet,, strong man, and a gentleman of the old school. From his mother, a sunny, saintly woman, he inherited the gentler traits that charmed all the circles he touched with a spell that is still felt by them. Those Scotch-Irish Duncans have inter- married and crossed the stock so often that we can now find all sorts of people bearing the name, but it will be hard to find among them all K 159 5amc0 21. 2)uncan, a single individual who has not some- where in his composition a vein of ore of uncommon richness or hard- ness — very good -when it is good, and bad enough when bad. The father of James A. Duncan, Prof. Duncan, was as ripe in scholarship and as sweet in character as an Al- bemarle pippin at Christmas time. His children's heredity (we must use this overworked word here) was good. There was no delirium tremens in their blood and brain, no narcotic poison in their systems, en- tailing upon them constitutional in- competency, and foredooming them to an almost hopeless struggle against forces that handicapped their lives. Young men, listen : Touch not, taste not, handle not the unclean thing — alcoholic drink. Avoid the cigarette idiocy. By such indulgence you not only hurt yourself, but you may also hurt others whom you \vould rather die than harm. The next best thing to the promise of 160 5amc6 2l» 2)uncan. the mercy of God is a clean, hope- ful heredity. The man who poisons his own life in so doing may poison a thousand other lives. This law of heredity, however, is a gracious law of God when w^e put ourselves in the right relation to it. More and more, as the v^^orld becomes wiser and better, will it be a potent factor in working out the perfection of hu- manity. All things work together, under the gospel of Jesus Christ, to this end, heredity included. But heredity cannot supersede that free- dom of the will upon which is piv- oted the destiny of every human soul. It is made to work together with all the laws and all the prov- idential dealings of God for our good. And, conversely, it is just as certain in its operation, being the savor of life tinto Ufe^ cr of death 2into death^ in a sense both more lit- eral and more aw^ful than most young persons and many older ones have stopped to consider. The U 161 James B, 2)uncan. young man with a good heredity may start downward if he will ; or, under God, he may begin a new up- ward movement for himself and those who shall come after him. Therefore, let no one be presump- tuous, let no one despair ; but let each and all watch and pray, and choose and hold fast that good part which can never be taken away from any sincere soul, but which a fool can throw aw^ay. Beside the ladder, whose rounds run up into heaven, opens the stairway going down to hell. One or the other you take by choice. Climb the upward way, because you can. Will some critical reader say that the foregoing remarks are a digression? Be it so ; the words are true words, and some young reader may get good by them. And Norfolk was a good place in which to be born in 1830, as it would be in this year 1896. But this was more than would have been said at 162 James B. Duncan, an earlier time, before Methodism and other agencies had wrought a beneficent transformation. Norfolk had much labor bestowed upon it before it took the rank it has long held as a moral city. Asburj found there a hard place, as had Pilmoor and Williams and Watters and Wright and King before him. Pilmoor, passing through Portsmouth on his return from the South, came upon two men at the ferrj swearing horribly. He raised his hands, and exclaimed: 'Well, if I had been brought to this place blindfolded, 1 should have known I was near Norfolk!' His preaching excited the opposition of the easy-going parish clergy of the city, and during his absence the parson at- tempted to turn the tide of feeling aga.inst the Methodists by preaching on "i?e not righteous overmuch!''' He assured the peo- ple that he knew from experience the evil of being overrighteous. To his sur- prise, and that of his friends, Pilmoor re- turned a few days after, and gave notice that he would preach on the verse next following the parson's text: ^^Be not over- much -wickedP The people crowded to the preaching place. Having read the text, he said that he had been informed 163 S^ames B. H)uncan. that a certain divine of that town had given them a solemn caution against be- ing righteous overmuch. Then, lifting his hands, and with a very significant countenance, he exclaimed : "And in Nor- folk he hath given this caution!" (Mc- Tyeire's " History of Methodism," pp. 296, 297-) That was the sort of Methodist preachers and style of preaching that had wrought the gracious change in Norfolk. The Methodism in Norfolk to- day, opulent in all the elements of denominational strength, is built upon the foundations laid by these men of God who had wrestled with sin and doubt, and prevailed ; who had cut loose from sin and worldli- ness ; who, borne on the rising tide of the great Wesleyan revival, were sweeping forward with irresti- ble energy and enthusiasm to the conquest of the continent. When he was still a lad young Duncan's father was called to take the professorship of Ancient Lan- 1* 164 S^ames B, Duncan. guages in Randolph-Macon College, then located at Boydton, Mecklen- burg County, Va. This was truly old Virginia, with its most distinc- tive peculiarities. The boy had the freedom, fresh air, and boyish sports of country life, in the midst of a rural population not excelled for do- mestic virtues and a refinement which, though not highly varnished on the surface, was of finest grain. Their ideals were lofty and their re- spectability solid. The boy was a general favorite — modest, well-man- nered, witty, handsome in per- son and graceful in bearing, and' withal notably kind and generous in his disposition. That he was plucky, as well as sinewy and quick of motion, was never doubted by any boy of his age and size w^ho put him to the test. He was stout- hearted, clean-limbed, full-chested, " quick as a flash," to use a boy's phrase. In his composition there were energy, aggressiveness, and 165 S^ames B. 2)uncan. as much combativeness as any civ- ilized boy ought to possess. He had another rich but perilous gift, the gift of mimicry. It is a bless- ing or a curse, according as it is used or abused. It is the orator's gift, and it is the buffoon's gift. Its possessor may be a brilliant orator, or he may be the hero of a bar- room crowd, or the " star" of a ne- gro minstrel show. It may lend harmless delight to the social circle and impart a special charm to pub- lic speech, or it may be the weap- on of envy and malice. In this case, as in all others, peril was proportioned to endowment. This boy, Jimmy Duncan, had to make the fight which is to be made by every young person who may read this page : Whether he has been in- trusted with one talent or -v^ath ten, he must make the same fight. Whether he shall w^in or lose, de- pends upon his o-wn choice. It was a good omen for the boy 166 Barnes B, Duncan. and for the Church he was to serve that among his teachers at Randolph- Macon College were Stephen Olin, Landon C. Garland, and William A. Smith — this page almost seems to be- come luminous as these names are placed upon it. Olin, Garland, Smith — a trio of men differing widely in their special gifts, but all notable for intellectual power, symmetrical char- acter, and, above all, the religious fervor that is essential to the ef- ficiency of a teacher in a Christian school. Scholarship, professional skill, and pedagogical enthusiasm are not to be despised or undervalued, but these qualifications may be found elsewhere. If that other and su- premest qualification were lacking in their teachers, our Church schools would be a superfluous tax upon the resources of the Church. These three men and their colaborers in their day touched the men who have touched the Church with their pow- 167 3^ames "B. Duncan, er during two generations. Their paths are traceable in lines of light from Virginia to California. Ran- dolph-Macon College is the mother of our Southern Methodist schools. Virginia and North Carolina were united in the movement that found- ed it, and the chapters of our de- nominational history that record its early struggles and successes are the heritage of both alike. The cost of the college has not been small, but it has already repaid a hundredfold to the Church. And it goes on compounding still. Among the men that Randolph- Macon has given to the Church three names occur to us here : two^ of them are Duncan and McTyeire, who have done their w^ork and" gone home to God ; the name of^ the third will be added when the modest and consecrated servant of the Church who bears it shall have done his work and gone home also. 168 3^ames a, 2)uncan, Young Duncan was converted in the college in 1847. It is a blessed fact that year after year the insti- tution was blessed with these spe- cially gracious seasons. It was a genuine conversion, described in a memoir lying before us in the dec- laration that "he sought and found peace in Jesus." This language implies that the handsome, gifted youth, overflowing with humor and gayety, the favorite of his associates, and the life of every circle that he- touched, was truly born into the new^ life after the scriptural pattern. Mark the words : " He sought and found peace in Jesus." There is a heart throb and a history in every- syllable for the initiated — a history of his unrest and soul hunger ; his sense of sin, and his longing for de- liverance ; and then his surrender and choice of his will, followed by the pardon and the peace that flood- ed his soul with unutterable bless- edness. It was a clear and happy 169 James B, 2)uncan. conversion, a luminous point in his experience, to which he ever after- wards reverted w^ith grateful joy. In one of his very latest sermons he described with deep feeling this ex- perience, affirming that the vow^ of -consecration then made had been the controlling principle of his min- istry, and the motive of those la- bors which his brethren sometimes thought excessive. (" Memoir.") With this beginning young Dun- can w^ent forvs^ard in a ministerial career that was remarkably free from the reactions, lapses, and gloom that so often mark the ear- lier stages of Christian lives. His consecration v^as thorough at the start. He had, w^ith purpose of heart, renounced the world, the flesh, and the devil. He had heard and heeded the Master's saying to the young man who hesitated and pleaded for delay when called to fol- low him : " No man, having put his hand to the plow, and looking back, 170 3^ames B. Buncan, is fit for the kingdom of God." (Luke ix. 62.) Young Duncan did not go back, because he did not look back. These reactions, lapses, bait- ings, though they so often cripple the lives of young Christians, are not necessary ; the grace and wis- dom that uphold and guide a fol- lower of Jesus one day will suffice for every day of the longest life. Christians walk by faith. They may not loiter, dawdle, dream, or trifle, nor look back, nor turn back, but walk — walk right on, straight forward. To all such is given the promise that they shall walk surely, they shall walk and not faint, they shall run and not be weary ; and, mounting on wings as eagles, they shall at last fly and take the prize. The power, the joy, the glory of such a life who can meas- ure? Christianity is a glorious re- ligion for the elect souls who test it for all it is worth. The elect are whosoever will. (Rev. xxii. 17.) 171 S^ames %, Duncan, The next year young Duncan was licensed to preach. This looks like quick work. He was only eighteen years old — a smooth-faced, slender youth, boyish in appearance. Our Methodist polity wisely and carefully guards the gate of entrance upon the sacred and weighty func- tions of the Christian ministry. Pro- vision is made for testing the gifts and grace of such as profess to be called to this work. But it has happened that partiality or haste has resulted in " calling " a young man to preach whom the Lord has not called, and then and there is trouble for all con- cerned. The Scriptures give w^arn- ing against thus suddenly laying hands on men "who are to minister in sacred things. The wisdom of this admonition has been impressed upon the minds of many who have had to deal with this important question. But it was not a prema- ture call for Duncan, young as he was. All his life had been a course 1<* 172 3^ames B. 2)uncan. of providential preparation for this work. The voice of the Church seconded the voice of God that spoke directly to his soul. The Quarterly Conference ratified the divine will in granting him license to preach. The youthful licentiate went to work \vith all his might, magnify- ing his office. Thirty years after- wards the people of Mecklenburg still spoke of his first sermons among them, "in which they saw the prophecy of his future great- ness," says a biographer. Besides pleasing manners, his natural gifts as an orator, and his exceptional ad- vantages in other particulars, he had that highest of all gifts for the preaching of the gospel — the unc- tion of the Holy Spirit — a quality always gladly recognized by the spiritually minded, and the absence of which is always felt by them, even when they might not be able to define it. 173 3^amcs B. Buncanv Immediately after his graduation-, in 1849, he was placed in charge of a society in Alexandria, Va., which had been organized in connection with the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. During the few months before the session of the- Virginia Conference a great reviv- al blessed his labors at Alexandria.. That was a good beginning for him. That revival in Alexandria was the seal put upon his commis- sion by his Lord, and the pledge of what was to come afterwards in a ministry singularly faithful and fruitful in the salvation of souls.. The next year (1850) he was ad- mitted into the Virginia Conference. He at once took a high rank as a preacher in that body, in wrhich were found such men as John Early, in discipline as strict as the commander of a Roman legion, and as unflinch- ing in courage and as inflexible in purpose, a heroic saint, or a saintly hero, as you prefer to have it ; John 174 3^ames "B, Duncan. E. Edwards, whose rhetoric was a sort of celestial fireworks, whose declamation was like musical thun- der, whose sermons were suffused with the glow caught from com- munion with God, who by the mag- ic of his oratory took his hearers captive and led them to Christ, who w^as perhaps the most rapid speaker that ever stood in a Virginia pulpit and one of the most brilliant, as he was certainly one of the most con- secrated ; John W. Childs, whose self-denial bordered on asceticism, w^hose zeal grazed the edge of fa- naticism, whose spirituality was al- most unearthly, whose prayers brovight heaven and earth almost into visible touch, whose very pres- ence inspired awe as that of a man who walked with God, his face shining as did that of Moses on coming from the mount ; Leonidas Rosser, who was to the Church what Jeb Stuart was to the army, a cavalier whose dash was brilliant L ^75 James B. 2)uncan, and almost resistless, gifted, popu- lar ; Alexander H. Doniphan, who glo^ved with an ardor almost seraph- ic, who sang as if his whole soul was set to music -with his voice of marvelous sweetness, and prayed as one who talked with God and felt his touch — and others not less worthy who yet live or have due mention else- where. Duncan took his proper place in the ranks with these men, and kept step with them for thirty years. In Fairfax, Leesburg, Alexandria, and Washington he labored earnestly and successfully nine years, all the while growing in pulpit power and pastoral efficiency. He was stu- dious and energetic, doing all the work of a pastor, true to the letter and spirit of the solemn vows that he had assumed. The fruit of his ministry was abundant and abiding. The love of the people for him was enthusiastic. In 1S47 he was appointed to Trinity Church, Richmond, and on !':<** 176 James 21, Duncan. that broader and more conspicuous field of service he quickly won rapid success and wider fame. Richmond was taken captive by him. His eloquence in the pulpit, and the charm of his social gifts, excited general admiration. He preached to young men and wom- en a series of sermons that at- tracted crowded congregations, and produced effects that v\^ere exten- sive and permanent. He took a front rank with the best preachers of the city, noted then, as now, for their ability. All classes of people flocked to hear him. Mem-bers of other denominations heard him with delight, and took him close to their hearts. Under his leadership, and chiefly by his efforts, a beautiful and spacious church was built on Broad Street near the Capitol Square, which yet stands as a mon- ument of his zeal and efficiency. From 1859 to 1866, with the excep- tion of two years, he continued in 12 177 James B. 2)uncan, pastoral charge of this church, his influence deepening and widening all the time. When Richmond be- came the capital of the Confederate States of America, and -was crowd- ed with representatives from all parts of the South, his pulpit be- came the center of attraction. To the multitude that came to hear him he preached with a brilliancy of pul- pit oratory, and at the same time with an evangelical power and pim- gency that made his ixiinistry both popular and savingly efficacious in a remarkable degree. From i860 to to 1 866 he also edited the Richmond Christian Advocate^ the larger part of the time doing this laborious work gratuitously, and doing it so well that his editorial service com- pares not unfavorably with that of other strong and brilliant editors who have sat upon its tripod. The extraordinai-y fertility of his intel- lect, and his prodigious power and endurance as a worker were demon- 178 5ames B, Duncan. strated during these years when, more than any other man in Vir- ginia, he influenced its moral life. He was the unspoiled idol of the people. The high and the low alike gave him their hearts. Like other truly great men, his greatest achievements did not exhaust the full measure of his power. When he soared highest his wing was steady. After spending the days and nights of the week in camp w'th " the boys " in the army, on Sun- day he wouki go back to his pul- pit in Richmond, and preach ser- mons that excited the admiration of the ablest men \vho were there gatli- ered as the master spirits of that mighty struggle. The two years of his pastorate in Petersburg were marlvcd by the same pulpit power and pastoral fidelity that character- ized him in other charges, and simi- lar gracious results followed. After the war Randolph- Macon 179 James B. 3)uncan, College was reopened and began a feeble struggle for life in that time of impoverishment, depression, and discouragement. It was removed from Boydton to Ashland, and Dr. Duncan was unanimously chosen President. Of his work in this con- nection we will let one speak who had an intimate acquaintance with him and with the facts In the case : He signified promptly a disposition to- accept the responsible post, but de- manded a few days in which to carry the question in private prayer to the God whom he served and to whom he be- longed. Repeatedly and emphatically he declared the singleness of purpose with which he entered on this office,, and that he would not remain one day in it if it were not for the conviction that he was thereby serving most effi- ciently the Church of Christ. No one who knew the man doubted his sin- cerity and simplicity of aim. He never sought self. He was indifferent to wealth in a degree which some even censured as extreme. He served not ambition. The esteem and approval of good men he must have prized; but never, so far as 180 James B, 2>uncan. ■we know, did he exhibit any undue con- cern about such things. He belonged to Christ, and to the Church for Christ's sake. He went in the courage of faith and the spirit of consecration to the col- lege, and devoted himself to the duties in the chair of Moral Philosophy and in the presidency. The halls were filled with a larger number of students than had ever sought its advantages in its palmiest days before the war. He governed by his personal influence, by the love and confidence with which he inspired the young men; and diligence and good be- havior were the rule, with rare excep- tions. The reputation of the institution for a high grade of scholarship and thor- oughness of culture was inferior to that of no college in the land. Young preachers, often numbering more than forty in a single session, sat under his special lectures in theology, and were molded by his example and his teaching. With the authority of a prophet, with the gentleness of a father, he preached to the students week after week the word of life, and saw many of them accept with glad hearts the yoke and burden of Christ. In private they revealed to him all that was in their hearts, and sought his sym- pathy and counsel. In public, whatever 181 James B, Duncan. the occasion on which he spoke, they hung breathless on his lips, and received what he said as from an angel of God. Those who have attended the Commence- ments can bear witness to the outgushing of love, the wise and noble utterances, the manly frankness and boldness, and the tenderness, almost motherly, with which he bade those young men farewell in unstudied words of genuine elo- quence; and the beaming faces, the streaming eyes, and the thunders of ap- plause with which they responded. Nor were these his only labors. Often during the session he hurried off to preach in city or in country at the call of the churches of the Virginia and Baltimore Conferences, or in order to raise money for the college. The summer vacation was no rest to him, but his busiest period. Incessantly he traveled through the two Conferences, speaking on Christian edvi- cation, and speaking at District Confer- ences, at protracted and camp meetings. He was in labor more abundant, not spar- ing himself; never reluctant to help in anv good work. Everywhere he was sought, everywhere he was welcome. Thousands ascribe to him, under God, their first impulse to serve Christ, their revival from a lukewarm and languishing 182 S^ames B, 2)uncan. state, or their fuller consecration and seeking of a higher Christian life. We may safel}' affirm that no man of his own generation has so powerfully impressed the religious character of an equal num- ber within the bounds of these two Con- ferences as James A. Duncan. He was elected to the General Conferences of 1866, 1870, and 1874. It is a characteristic fact in his history that he did not attend the session of 1870, his duties at the college not allowing his absence, as it seemed to him. At that ses- sion he lacked only a very few votes of being elected a bishop, several delegates withholding their votes from him because they were con- vinced that he could not then be spared from the service of the col- lege. From that time the eyes of the Avhole Chtu'ch were turned toward him as a fit person for the episco- pacy. Had he lived and been elected to the office, he would have filled it with as much honor to himself and advantage to the Church as an^^ man 183 Jamee B. Duncan, who has been called to discharge its- functions. But it would have added nothing to his fame, save in the fact that it would have furnished an- other illustration of the wonderful versatility of his genius ; of a man who was always equal to any emer- gency and could do any work com- mitted to him, and do it as if it were his specialty. In 1876 he was one of the three Fraternal Delegates from our Gen- eral Conference to the General Con- ference of the Methodist Episcopal Church. His definition of frater- nity on that occasion was so admi- rable in form and spirit that from, the hour of its delivery there has been throughout both of these Metliodist bodies a clearer conception of its meaning and a higher appre- ciation of its value. His exordium was in these words : As I stand in your presence to-day a solemn joy in my heart takes precedence of all other emotions. The responsibility 184 3^ame0 B, Duncan. of my mission and this hour is solemn^ but its hope is an inspiration of joy. Around me I behold the venerable and distinguished representatives of a great Church; beyond them are millions of Methodists in America and Europe who feel deeply concerned in the issues of this hour; beyond them, in still more dis- tant circles, stand a great cloud of wit- nesses, composed of all who care for the peace, the unity, and the prosperity of the kingdom of our Lord Jesus Christ; and, sir, above us is the general assembly' and Church of the Firstborn, who are writtea in heaven; and among them, high-seated in their radiant places, are our sainted- fathers; and over all, upon that eternal throne before which we all reverently worship, reigns the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, of whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named. In- such solemn presence, where all dissen- sions seem p.rofanities, where all tem- poral and sectional distinctions disappear,, and where there is neither Jew nor Greek^ neither bond nor free, neither male nor- female, but all are one in Christ Jesus, through whom all have access by one Spirit unto the Father, are no more stran- gers and foreigners, but fellow-citizens. with the saints an.d of the household of 185 James B, Duncan. ' God! As a humble citizen of that king- dom and membei' of that household, in the name of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, and bj her authority as a frater- nal messenger, with brotherly kindness in my heart and words of peace upon my lips, I salute you this day as brethren in Christ Jesus our Lord. The peroration was a fitting cli- max of that fraternal address w^hich marked the introduction of a new era in the history of Episcopal Methodism in America. The words thrill us as "we read. What must have been their effect upon those who heard them as they fell from liis lips ? Brethren, what an opportunity! Well for us if we can discern the signs of the times to know the things which make for our peace! Our glorious land, that blooms between the seas, is a magnificent field for Methodist work. I pray God that we may have wisdom to cultivate it in the spirit of peace and Christian fel- lowship! Shall we show ourselves wor- thy of such an inhieritance? From its extreme northern border, where God's perpetual bow of peace glorifies Niagara's 186 James B. Duncan. cliffs, to the seagirt soutfiern line, where God's bounteous gifts make earth almost an Eden of fragrance and beauty; and. from the rock-bound Atlantic, where the eastern song of the sea begins its morning music, away to the far-off Pacific, where the western waters murmur their even- ing benediction to our blessed land as the tide goes out beneath the setting sun — everywhere we feel the inspiration of our country, and devoutly pray : God bless our native land! God give it, I pray, the glo- ry of Lebanon and the excellency of Car- mel and Sharon; and may all the inhab- itants thereof see the glory of the Lord and the excellency of our God! The effect was thrilling. " There ■was not a soul in the vast building that was not visibly affected, and for several minutes the sensation that it produced was plainly manifest," says one who was present. The members of the august body before which he spoke felt that the Church which had produced and which had honored such a man must be rooted in a glorious past and have the promise of a hopeful future. 187 3^ames %, S)uncan, That speech is bearing fruit at this hour. It swept away the mists that had enveloped a great question that vitally affected the interests of Christianity in this nation. It defined, illustrated, and fortified fra- ternity, and planted its white ban- ner on the ■walls of our Methodist Zion. There may it float as long as time shall last ! He died September 24, 1877. If, as was thought and said at the time, he was the victim of overwork, such a life was a costly sacrifice for the cause to which it was devoted. In consequence of excessive labors and malarial exposure in the summer of 1 8 74 he had a fever which took a typhoid phase, and he lay for weeks at the point of death. For one year afterwards he was scarcely able to do any work, and though he ral- lied and resumed his labors, the seeds of disease were still in his system ; his almost matchless con- stitution was shattered. But he 188 James B, 2)uncan. ■worked on with undiminished ardor with intermittent spells of severe sickness. His last efforts at speak- ing and preaching were among the happiest of his life, the sense of duty and the inspiration of his faith and love spurring him on, and caus- ing him to forget or disregard bod- ily suffering. He preached the ser- mon at the reopening of Trinity Church, Baltimore, September 9, though suffering intense pain at the time. On his return to his home at Ashland, his symptoms became more violent, and he suffered intense pain. He was patient and serene, ready for what might come, but not sus- pecting that the end was so near. On the morning of the 24th the tire- less worker entered into rest. The shock of his death was great throughout the Church and country. The grief of our people was min- gled with a suspicion that they had allowed a willing worker to be over- tasked. Had others been as willing 189 S^amcs B. 2)uncan, to toil and as ready to give as he- had been, the great life had not been cut shcrt ; while on the other hand, the object lesson furnished by that life would have lost somewhat, of its completeness. Voicing the feeling of the Chris- tian public outside of our ov\^n de- nomination, and that of the general public as well, we give this tribute by Dr. T. R. Price, of the Univer- sity of Virginia, a layman of an- other Christian communion. Under the caption of " The Great Preach- er," Dr. Dvmcan is spoken of as " the one man who knew best how to stir the hearts -and guide the acts of the people for good at a time when many bad men were seeking to break down the honesty and to dull the moral sense of our people." Then in the best English he pro- ceeds to give the secret of his pov\^- er and the charm of his personality : With the calmness of the deepest sor- row comes, too, the calmness to think out 190 James B. 2)uncan, the secret of the dead man's power over the great masses of the Southern peo- ple; for that power was one that reached far outside of his Church and all Church- es deep down into the moral life of Vir- ginia. Thus, even for us laymen, for us that have no right to preach and no the- ology to teach, the character of this won- derful man has an abiding interest. It is ■worth while for us all to know what were the means by which he worked. As his life did such immense good to so manj^ thousands of our people, the con- templation and, if possible, the under- standing of that life can hardly fail to do good to the great communities that are now mourning for him. On the first meeting with Dr. Duncan, were it only a hurried talk at a street cor- ner or a few minutes' conversation on a railway train, the first impression that came to the stranger was the sense of a strange and overpowering love and lova- bleness in the man. The face and voice stole their way to the heart, and mastered the affections. All the children were drawn to his caressing hands by a charm that their little hearts could not withstand. The negro servants in the houses that he visited could be seen to hang upon his words, and to strive to catch his smile. M 191 James :a. Duncan, The belle of the springs on her waj to the ballroom, the roughest mountaineer loafing on the outskirts of a camp meet- ing, boys and old men, the ignorant and the educated, had to yield themselves to the fascination of the fresh and guileless love that emanated from his beaming eyes and tender, penetrating voice. Whether he were moving with his ex- quisite grace, smiling and talking, through a parlor, or standing all aglow in his passionate eloquence beside his pulpit; whether he spoke to one man, soul to soul, in the quiet of his study, or faced the thousands of eyes that looked up to him from a great city church, or from the green hillsides of a rustic am- phitheater, the power that Avent forth from hiin, winning all hearts and soften- ing all hardness, was the power of an ex- quisitely lovable nature, giving love rich- ly and pleading for love in return. But as 3'ou listened to him, as you watched the play of his mobile features, and took in the rich, sweet tones of his voice, the first impression of tlie man's intense lovableness was deepened hy the impression of his marvelous intellectual power. The shrewdness of his observa- tion, the penetrating keenness of his in- telligence, the splendid precision of his 192 S^ames Zl» 2>uncan. thought and of his utterance, took instan- taneous possession of the hearer's mind. His knowledge of human character as men moved before him, his ready in- sight into the tangled web of human mo- tives, were almost infallible. In spite •of his boundless charity aud gracious- ness, he Avas a man that could not be de- ceived or cheated. He took men in at a glance. The smile that curled around his lips, the light that sparkled in his eyes, showed to the dullest, as to the wiliest that the secrets of their character were seen, that the very depths of their souls lay unveiled before him. Thus, when you talked with him j'ou were sure to feel that, while his love opened his heart to you, his intellect opened yours to him. In managing men, in wielding the discipline of a college, the amazing quickness and penetration of his -ntellect made him the fittest of all men to control both character and con- duct. The offender that came to hide his sin behind a lie found the lie impos- sible, and flung hiinself with passionate tears upon the love of the man that both understood and pitied his weakness. Even in great audiences, when he spoke to thousands of God and goodness, the veils of self-deception fell away before 13 193 James 21. 2)uncan, the glances that he shot into the souls of men. ....... It was this union of moral with intel- lectual force, this union of the attractive power of love with the penetrating power of understanding, that gave to Dr. Dun- can his unrivaled and irresistible control over the heart and intellect of the Vir- ginia people. The world is so bad that we are apt to confuse amiability with sil- liness, and to see a sign of intellectual weakness in a good man's love and care for his fellow-men. But here at least was one man as strong as he was good, a. man that joined to the charm of a ten- derly loving heart the power of a splen-- did genius and of an incisive intelligence. Thus he rose on the hearts of men to be- a living power in our State and time.. Thus to each man that saw much of him,, to every human being that was for long exposed to the influence of his words and. actions, the man, simple and kindly and. great in all his deeds, shone forth great as the revelation of a higher life, as the proof and example of what Christ's teach- ing meant. The mystery both of the moral power and of the intellectual power of this great. man lay in his astounding unselfishness;. for the egoistic habit of mind is a hin- 194 S^ames B, 5>uncan. drance not only to the moral, but also to the intellectual, progress of the man. A selfish regard for one's own interests, the bad trait of regarding all things and all men as subordinate to one's own designs, not only deadens the moral sensibility, but it even distorts and discolors all in- tellectual insight into the world. If we fail to care for other men's good hy being so busy about our own, we fail equally to penetrate into their characters, and to see the good and evil that is in them by being unable to remove from our intel- lectual vision the beam of our own de- sires and designs. From all these ob- stacles to noble acting and to accurate thinking Dr. Duncan was sublimely free. He had resigned himself so fully into the hands of God that he had ceased ab- solutely to care for his own advantage or to be perplexed by the contemplation of his own aims. Thus he moved through the annual courses of his serene and glorious activity, preaching and teaching and helping all good causes, with a mind unperverted from great things by any care for little ones, with a soul ready for any sacrifice, and, what is harder still, readv to throw itself into full and instantaneous sympathy with any soul that opened to his approach. . . . 195 3^ame0 21. 2)uncan. All the ordinary temptations to self- seeking fell off powerless from the su- preme unselfishness of his nature. When the fame of his eloquence spread over many States, when he was acknowledged as the greatest orator of his Church and perhaps of his country, when the richest churches of the greatest cities offered him vast salaries to leave the struggling peo- ple and the impoverished college that he loved, he clung fast to poverty, and put aside, without a struggle, the temptations of ease and wealth Like his Master, he chose poverty rather than riches; like his Master, he chose to work in a little village, among a small band of disciples, rather than among the splendors and plaudits of cities. Like his Master, he made of life one long series of sweetly borne self- sacrifices. Before the spectacle of such sublime self-depression all words of common praise are unseemly. But to them that lived with him, who saw the great soul take up so bravely and bear so lovingly the burden of poverty, trouble, and suffering, the life that he led was a miracle of beauty and holiness, making the world brighter and nobler by even the remembrance of him. In his preaching, as in his life, the 196 James 21, Duncan. same blending of love with wisdom, of childlike simplicity with manly power, was revealed. There was no fierceness, no affectation, no struggling after orator- ical effects. But, as the powers of his mind got into motion, as the thoughts rolled on clear and massive, the words and sentences grew rich and lofty, the sweet voice swelled out into organ tones, the small and graceful figure swayed to the pulsations of his thought, and the beautiful face glowed with the illumina- tion of love. There was no theology in his sermons, no polemical divinity in his conceptions of divine truth. To love God and to love men was for him, as Christ taught him, the sum of all right- eousness. This power of love was the agency through which he did his work in the world. As the warmth of the sun controls all the processes of nature and commands all the movements of the uni- verse, so warmth of love, as the central fact of God's moral government, was for him the source of all power, the means of subduing all wrong, and bringing the world back into harmony with God's laws. No huinan life ever lived in this world of ours was attuned more fully to a lofti- er harmony. As we think of all the good 197 James B, 2)uncan. deeds he did, of all the wise words he spoke, of his solemn, jet tender warnings against evil, of the love that charmed so inanj souls to do right, of the sublime un- selfishness that made his life a sacrifice to other men's good, we can feel that to us, in our own State, born of our own stock, in full sight of us all, a man has been given to live for our good, as nearly as man may, up to the life storj of the Christ himself. There are touches in the forego- ing extract that go below the sur- face, and will, it is hoped, be profit- ably suggestive to the discerning reader, who wishes to know the se- cret of a life of such exceptional beauty and beneficence, a life in w^hich genius and goodness were so graciously blended as in the life of James A. Duncan. 198 MRS. SUSANNA WESLEY. 1670-1742. PARENTAGE. IT has been said of the pious mother of St. Augustine that she " is better known by the branch of her issue than by the root of her parentage." Her memory is Hnked not so much to the family of her father as to the undying glory of her son. Though most honorably de- descended — an inheritor of even pa- trician blood — this saying may be applied with equal appropriateness to the mother of the Wesley s. The emi- nent and enviable place accorded her in history is the honor of having borne, trained, and dedicated to God the sons whose fame will be co- eternal with the gospel of a free and full salvation. She will be remem- 199 /IRrs, Susanna "Mcelc^. bered not as the daughter of Dr. Annesley, but as the mother of John and Charles Wesley. Yet though the fame of her sons has overshad- owed the name of her father, from him she inherited those remarkable traits and sterling virtues that gave them greatness. Dr. Samuel Annes- ley, her father, w^as one of the giants of his day. Born in the shire of War- wick, renowned for its military he- roes and as the home of Shakespeare, he Vk^as early devoted by his parents, in solemn vows and prayers, to the work of the ministry. When a mere child, already filled with the spirit of his high calling, and to thoroughly equip himself for his great life work, he began reading twenty chapters a day in the Holy Scriptures, and continued the prac- tice to the end of his life. At Ox- ford he was known for piety and diligence. Daniel Defoe, who knew him intimately, thus happily de- scribes his early virtues : 200 IBsvs. Susanna THUesle^. His pious course with childhood he be- gan, And was his Maker's sooner than his own. As if designed by instinct to be great, His judgment seemed to antedate his wit. Early the vigorous combat he began, And was an older Christian than a man. The Heavenly Book he made his only school, In youth his study, and in age his rule. He became a minister of great power and eloquence. His voice was potent in all the ecclesiastical conflicts of that stormy age. Per- secuted because of his nonconform- ity, he displayed the inherent energy of his family by an unswerving, manly independence. No command of king, nor heel of tyrant, could fetter his faith or crush his con- science. History tells that one of his persecutors fell dead while preparing a warrant for his arrest. Yet with the strength of the lion he united the gentleness of the dove. Full of tenderness and sympathy his minis- 201 ^rs. Susanna Mesle^. try abounded in true benevolence. The minister that officiated at his funeral exclaimed : " O, how many places had sat in darkness — how many ministers had starved — if Dr. Annesley had died thirty-four years since ! " After a faithful and fruitful min- istry of more than half a century, he died in 1696, exclaiming : "I shall -be satisfied with thy likeness — satis- fied, satisfied ! " He was tenderly loved by all "who knew him. So strong was the attachment of his noble relative, the Countess of An- glesea, that she requested on her deathbed to be buried in his grave. Cromwell appreciated his eminent worth, and appointed him to an office at St. Pavil's. Richard Baxter pro- nounced him wholly consecrated to God. The nonconformists consid- ered him a second St. Paul. Such was Dr. Annesley, the no- ble father of Susanna Wesley. Of her mother little is known, so we can never estimate how much the 202 flbrs. Susanna TKncsleg. world owes to her for the rare gifts and graces that ennobled and adorned her remarkable daughter. Doubtless from her she inherited those almost unexampled domestic virtues that rendered historic the rectory of Epworth, and in which was born the Methodist reforma- tion. Susanna Annesley was born in London during her father's ministry there, and was the youngest child in a large family of a " quarter of a hundred." But few incidents of her early childhood have been preserved as prophecies of her subsequent great renown. She was carefully and thoroughly educated, having accurate knowledge of French, and it is svipposed also of the Latin and Greek. Few authors have ever written the English language with more classic elegance and rhetorical accuracy. She had a terseness of style and facility of illustration that gave both force and beauty to all her writings. Though living at a 203 ^rs. Susanna TKHesles. time when the higher education of women found few advocates or apologists, she studied with un- wearied diligence, and became a scholar of rather varied culture. In childhood she displayed her father's independence of thought and character. The story is told that at the early age of thirteen years she examined the whole con- troversy between Churchmen and Dissenters, and, though her father was an eminent Dissenting minister, decided in favor of the Established Church, and became a member thereof. It is a fact that she changed her views and left the communion of her father, but it may be that there was a " tenderer influence " at work — Samuel Wesley, a " spright- ly, intelligent youth," who was a frequent and welcome visitor to the home of Dr. Annesley. That char- acteristic independence gave her a discriminating judgment of men and books, and made her a faithful 204 ^rs. Susanna "Mcele^, guide to her sons during all their philosophical doubts and fears. Though thus remarkably gifted intellectually, she had none of the singularities of genius. She is rather distinguished for poise of character — for the " balance and complete- ness " of her faculties. The writ- ings of Thomas a Kempis, Bun- yan, Jeremy Taylor, and other such authors, furnished the food on which her young mind fed and throve. In addition to rare mental endow- ments and the graces of an unusual culture, she had brilliant personal attractions. She was very beautiful. One biographer, describing a por- trait made near the time of her mar- riage, says : " Her features were slight, but almost classical in their regularity." Dr. Adam Clarke, in speaking of a fine portrait by Sir Peter Lely of one of her sisters, a charming woman, says : " One who well knew them both said that, beau- tiful as Miss Annesley appears, she 205 /IRrs. Susanna llXIleslcs. was far from being as beautiful as Mrs. Wesley." Samuel Wesley. Among the many visitors to the home of Dr. Annesley for counsel' and consultation was Samuel Wes- ley, a young student for the minis- try. Here he met the beautiful and' gifted girl destined to be the com- panion of his long and laborious life — the joy and inspiration of his early hopes and the sweet benedic- tion of his declining years. He was a young man of jfine talents, tireless industry, and fervent piety. His love for poetry was a consuming passion. From him Charles Wes- ley inherited a poetic genius that gave him foremost place among the great hymnists of the ages, and to whom we are indebted for the in- spiring liturgy of Methodism. Sam- uel Wesley published several elab- orate works in verse, among them « A Life of Christ," ^'A History of 206 /Hbrs. Susanna Tisacslcg. the Old and the New Testaments," and a Latin dissertation on the book of Job, besides a number of fugitive pieces of more or less merit. His work on Job displayed profound learning and accurate scholarship. As a preacher he -was able and faith- ful. His unyielding tenacity of opinion at times involved him in un- necessary antagonisms. His integ- rity w^as almost intolerant. To him a good conscience was of more val- ue than popular favor. When the " Declaration " of James H. was ordered to be read in the churches, suspecting it to be an insidious de- sign of the papacy, he not only re- fused to read it, but preached a vig- orous sermon against it with all the vehemence of righteous indignation. Such was Samuel Wesley, who won the fair hand of Susanna An- nesley, and to whom he was mar- ried in 16S9, when she was yet but nineteen years of age. At this time the young clergyman had a curacy ]Sr 207 fllbrs, Susanna Mesleg. in London at thirty povuids a year. Here he labored with great zeal and acceptability until the autuinn of 1S90, Avhen he moved to South Ormsby, in Lincolnshii-e, with a "liv- ing " of fifty pounds a year. After six or seven years spent in this par- ish, supplementing his meager liv- ing by the ceaseless labors of his pen, they removed, with six chil- dren, to Epworth, to spend the re- mainder of his life in tireless toil, and supporting a large family on two hundred pounds a year. This "living" was conferred at the re- quest of Queen Mary, to whom he had dedicated a volume in token of her patronage of learning. Epworth. Epworth, the market town of Lincolnshire, is famed in the early military annals of England, but will ever be best -known in history as the home, for forty years, of Samuel and Susanna Wesley, and the birth- 208 Sbx0, Susanna "Mcelc^, place of their apostolic sons. The old parish church, with its square and stately tower, still crowns the highest eminence in all the " Isle of Axholme." The Trent, with the windings of the Idle, Tom, and Don Rivers, forms "a river islet;" Ep- worth is therefore called the " Me-* tropolis of the Isle." There was the home for forty eventful years of as interesting a family group as ever distinguished the history of Eng- lish households. Of the nineteen children born to the honored par- ents, who hailed each as a special gift of God, thirteen were raised to youth, and ten lived to mature age. Though surrounded by the ignorant and profane, oppressed with the bur- dens of poverty, and several times basely persecuted, the Epworth rectory was ever the home of peace, happiness, intelligence, and piety. Like true missionaries they sought to lift the people to a higher spirit- ual, intellectual, and social level. 14 209 Hbxe, Susanna WLeslCQ, One writer says of their parishioners that " the upper classes were small landowners, dreadfully carefvil of their cash, and living chiefly on bread, buttermilk, ash heap cakes, eggs, and flour puddings. The la- dies wore the gowns and cloaks which had so well served their an- cestors before them. The memory of the oldest inhabitant could not recall ever seeing a farmer arrayed, at any one time, in a coiTiplete suit of new clothes." Such surely were not associations very agreeable to the taste of the accomplished Mrs. Wes- ley, yet for them she labored with a zeal that knew no abatement and a faith that felt no flagging. From these people, stung by the stern re- bukes of the faithful rector, they suf- fered opposition even to persecution. Twice the rectory was fired by a rabble, the second time totally con- sumed, including the manuscripts and library of the indefatigable min- ister. Mrs. Wesley came near per- 210 ISbxe, Susanna "Mcelc^, ishing in the flames ; and little John, then just six years of age, sleeping in a room upstairs, was only res- cued by the interposing hand of Di- vine Providence. When all were found to be safe from the flames, the venerable father and pastor ex- claimed : " Come, neighbors, let us kneel down ; let us give thanks to God. He has given me all my eight children ; let the house go, I am rich enough." Millions at this day on earth, and shining ranks ©f glorified ones in heaven, blessed, if not re- deemed, by the agency of his son, respond to that prayer of thanks- giving. A moment more, and the great founder of "the people called Methodists," before his apostolate began, would have passed away in a chariot of fire. The True Wife. As a wife — excelling in all wifely virtues — Mrs. Wesley ranks as a model of noblest type. With a 211 IS^iB. Susanna "Mesleg. lofty conception of the sacred and re- sponsible duties of the marital rela- tion, she endeavored with perfect conscientiousness to pay her bridal vows. Theirs was a union of sound judgment and purest affection, a holy plighting of heart to heart. They found in each the elements of highest worth. Mrs. Wesley was an abiding source of strength and hope to her husband in all the ar- duous labors of his laborious life. Without her prudent economy and really, marvelous management, he never could have achieved so much. The rector knew books, but he was very innocent of business af- fairs. This simple couplet from his own pen shows how passionately he adored and admired the really great woman : She graced my humble roof and blessed my life, Blessed me by a far greater name than wife. Accomplished and refined, well fitted 212 Hsve. Susanna IHIlesles. to grace the most brilliant occasion or exalted social position, with a glad heart and unwearied hands she devoted herself to the modest duties of a clergyman's wife. Though careful to make a small stipend sup- port a large family, dreading some- times to hear the sheriff's rap at the door to conduct her poor husband to prison for debt, she 3'et wore a smile of contentment, and cheerfully trusted in Providence to make all things work together for good. No repinings ever escaped her lips, though often cumbered ^vith a load of care. She saw her home, with all its contents, burned to the ground. She saw her husband carried off to jail by a ruthless, soulless creditor, yet with true Christian fortitude she bore up without murmur or despair. In the darkest hour of their trials the venerable rector exclaimed : "All this, thank God ! does not in the least sink my wife's spirits." In a letter to the Archbishop of York she said ; 2 213 IWiVB, Susanna Mesleg. " I have learned that it is much easier to be contented without riches than with them." It is hardly possible, however, that two persons, alike distinguished for independence of judgment and tenac- ity of opinion, always saw eye to eye on every question. As illustra- tive of the fact that they did not an amvising story is told, which, if ■founded on truth, is doubtless an exaggeration. It is said that in their family devotions the rector dis- covered that his wife did not respond w^ith an "Amen " when he prayed for the king. Not believing in the rightful title of the Prince of Orange, this she could not do. Thus said her husband : " Surely if that be the case, we must part ; for if we have two kings, ^ve must have two beds." He left, so the story goes, and went to London, where, as " Convocation man " to the diocese of London, he resided for quite a year. On his re- turn. Queen Anne having ascended ^ 214 ISbts, Susanna "Mcele^s* the throne and all occasion for es- trangement being removed, domes- tic harmony was entirely restored. The incident is puerile enough ; but if true, it rather indicates the petu- lancy of the rector than the obstinacy of his ever loving companion. Most any conscience ought to be content with earnest and regular praying to the Lord, vs^ithout forcing everybody to say "Amen " to every petition. But there is such spiritual morbid- ness even in this day. The Model Mother. As a mother Mrs. Wesley won her crown of fadeless glory. The Lord honored her with what the rector himself called " a numerous offspring, eighteen or nineteen chil- dren." The ten reared to manhood and vv^omanhood bore the impress of their mother's genius, and to her gave highest praise for their train- ing and success. From under no niother's eye has there ever gone 215 ^rs. Susanna TMUcsles. forth a more remarkable family of sons and daughters. To discover the secret of her success, one must analyze the mother's distinguishing characteristics, and study the plans and principles she adopted for the education of her children. She had an exalted conception of the respon- sibility and honor of motherhood. Her children were not considered a burden or a calamity, but with old Jewish pride she hailed each as the manifest token of God's special fa- vor. Rightly to train them for large usefulness and eternal happi- ness was her constant study and ear- nest prayer. To great firmness she united an almost exhaustless pa- tience. Said her husband on one occasion : " I wonder at your pa- tience ; you have told that child- twenty times that same thing." " Had I satisfied myself by men- tioning the matter only nineteen times," replied Mrs. Wesley, " I should have lost all my labor. You /Bbrs. Susanna "Mcsle^, see it was the twentieth time that crowned the whole." The training of her children was according to strict method, but " without mechanical rigor," They were like other children, merry and frolicsome, but never rude and offen- sive. For their physical education she had special care. Their sleep- ing and eating were regulated ac- cording to her own good judgments They never ate between meals, and ate without question or comment the food prepared. When a child reached its first anniversary it was " taught to fear the rod and crjy softly.'''' And it is authoritatively stated that " not one of them was heard to cry aloud after it was a year old." However skeptical I might be in accepting such a story of an ordinary household, I think it quite true of the Wesley family. Disrespect or rudeness to servants, never escaped due punishment. In addressing a domestic they were re- 217 ISbxs. Susanna Mesle^. quired to say : " Pray, give me such a thing." On the fifth birthday of each child she began its education, and on the evening of the first day, with only one exception, they had thoroughly mastered the alphabet. For their religious culture she had a pious mother's tender solicitude. They were taught to pray regular- ly, and never to eat without asking a blessing upon their food. She wrote three volumes with her own hand to be used as text-books for her children : a manual of doctrine, a dissertation on the Apostles' Creed and an exposition of the Ten Com- mandments. But to her religion was more than correct theology. So every day she conversed and prayed with her children. " I take such a proportion of time," she writes, " as I can best spare every night to discourse with each child by itself. On Monday I talk with Molly ; on Tuesday, with Hetty ; Wednesday, with Nancy ; Thurs- 218 tSstQ, Susanna "Meslc^, day, with Jacky ; Friday, with Pat- ty ; Saturday, with Charles ; and with EmiHa and Sukey together on Sunday." No wonder she was so divinely blessed in the spiritual growth and life of her children. Such devotion can never escape di- vine benediction. Would God that there were more such mothers in the Church to-day ! In the midst of his active and distinguished ca- reer John Wesley thus wrote to his wonderful mother : " If you can spare me only that little part of Thursday evening, which you for- merly bestowed upon me in another manner, I doubt not that it would be as useful now for correcting my heart as it was then for forming my judgment." With the learned Dr. Adam Clarke, I am now ready to say : " Such a family I have never read of, heard of, or known ; nor since the days o£ Abraham and Sarah, and Joseph and Mary of Nazareth, has there ever been a 219 Sbxe, Susanna TKaesleg* family to which the human race lias been more indebted." Rules of Family Government. After the facts given above, I am sure that every reader would like to see the '■'■ method'''' by which this wonderful mother achieved such re- inarkable results. They may aid in the right ordering of other homes. In a letter written to John Wesley, dated Epworth, July 24, 1732, she says : "According to your desire, I have collected the principal rules that I observed in educating my family." Here are the "rules :" The children were always put into a regular method of living in such things as thej were capable of from their birth, as in dressing, undressing, changing their linen, etc. The first quarter commonly passes in sleep; after that thej were, if possible, laid in their cradles awake and rocked to sleep; and so thej were kept rocking till it was time for them to awake. This was %one to bring them to a regular course of sleeping, which at first was three hours in the morning and 220 ISits, Susanna "Meelc^, three in the afternoon — afterwards two hours, till thej needed none at all. i When turned of a year old, and some before, thej were taught to fear the rod and cry softly; by which means they es- caped abundance of correction that they might otherwise have had, and that most odious noise of the crying of children was rarely heard in the house, but the family usually lived in as much quietness as if there had not been a child among them. As soon as they were grown pretty strong they were confined to three meals a day. At dinner their little tables and chairs were set by ours, where they could be overlooked; and thej^ were suf- fered to eat and drink (small beer) as much as they would, but not to call for anything. If they wanted aught, they used to whisper to the maid that at- tended them, who came and spake to me, and as soon as they could handle a knife and fork they were set to our table. They were never suffered to choose their meat, but always made to eat such things as were provided for the familj^. Mornings they always had spoon-meat, sometimes at night; but whatever they had, they were never permitted to eat at those meals of more than one thing, and 221 /JBrs. Susanna TKIlesles. of that sparingly enough. Drinking or eating between meals was never allowed, unless in case of sickness, which seldom happened. Nor were they suffered to go into the kitchen to ask anything of the servants when they were at meat; if it was known that they did so, they were certainly beaten, and the servants severe- ly reprimanded. At six, as soon as family prayer was over, they had their supper; at seven the maid washed them, and, beginning at the youngest, she undressed and got them all to bed by eight, at which time she left them in their several rooms awake, for there was no such thing allowed of, in our house, as sitting b}^ a child till it fell asleep. They were so constantly used to eat and drink what was given them that, when any of them were ill, there was no difficulty in making them take the most unpleasant medicine, for they durst not refuse it, though some of them would presently throw it up. This I mention to show that a person may be tavxght ta take anything, though it be ever so much against his stomach. In order to form the minds of children^ the first thing to be done is to conquer their will, and bring them to an obedien.t 222 /iRrs, Susanna TKHeslei?. temper. To inform the understanding is a work of time, and must with children proceed by slow degrees, as they are able to bear it; but subjecting the will is a thing that must be done at once, and the sooner the better; for by neglecting timely correction, they will contract a stubbornness and obstinacy which are hardly ever after conquered, and never without using such severity as would be as painful to me as to the child. In the esteem of the world they pass for kind and indulgent, whom I call cruel, parents; who permit their children to get habits which they know must be afterward broken. Nay, some are so stupidly fond, as in sport to teach their children to do things which in a while after they have severely beaten them for doing. When a child is corrected it must be conquered, and this will be no hard matter to do, if it be not grown headstrong by too much indulgence. And when the will of a child is totally subdued, and it is brought to revere and stand in* awe of the parents, then a great many childish follies and inadvertencies may be passed by. Some should be overlooked and taken no notice of, and others mildy reproved; but no willful transgression ought ever to be forgiven children, without chastisement, O 223 /llbrs. Sueanna Mesleig. less or more, as the nature and circum- stances of the offense maj require. I insist upon conquering the will of children betimes, because this is the only strong and rational foundation of a re- ligious education, Avithout which both precept and example will be ineffectual; but when this is thoroughly done, then a child is capable of being governed by the reason and piety of its parents till its own understanding comes, and the principles of religion have taken root in the mind. I cannot yet dismiss this subject. As self-will is the root of all sin and misery, so whatever cherishes this in children in- sures their after wretchedness and irre- ligion. Whatever checks and modifies it promotes their future happiness and piety. This is still more evident if we further consider that religion is nothing else than doing the will of God and not our own; that the one grand impedi- ment to our temporal and eternal happi- ness being this self-will, no indulgence of it can be trivial, no denial unprofitable. Heaven or hell depends on this alone; so that the parent who studies to subdue it in his child works together with God in the renewing and saving a soul. The parent who indulges it does the devil's work — makes religion impracticable, sal- 224 /IRrs. Susanna 'Meele's. Tation unattainable — and does all that in him lies to damn his child, soul and body, forever. The children of this family were taught, as soon as they could speak, the Lord's Prayer, which they were made to say at rising and bedtime constantly, to which as thev grew bigger were added a short prayer for their parents and some collects, a short catechism and some por- tion of Scripture, as their memories could bear. They were very early made to dis- tinguish the Sabbath from other days — before they could well speak or go, They were as soon taught to be still at family prayers and to ask a blessing im- mediately after, which they used to do by signs before they could kneel or speak. They were quickly made to under- stand that they might have nothing that they cried for, and instructed to speak handsomely for what they wanted. They were not suffered to ask even the lowest servant for aught without saying. "Pray, give me such a thing;" and the servant was chid if she ever let them omit that word. Taking God's name in vain, cursing and swearing, profaneness, obscenity, rude, ill-bred names, were never heard 15 225 /IRrs. Suaanna Mcsles. among them ; nor were they ever per- mitted to call each other bj their proper names without the addition of brother or sister. There was no such thing as loud talk- ing or playing allowed, but every one was kept close to business for the six hours of school. And it is almost in- credible what a child may be taught in a quarter of a year by a vigorous applica- tion, if it have but a tolerable capacity and good health. Kezzy excepted, all could read better in that time than the most of women can do as long as they live. Rising out of their places, or go- ing out of the room, was not permitted except for good cause ; and running into the yard, garden, or street was always esteemed a capital offense. For some years we went on very well. Never were children in better order. Never were children better disposed to piety or in inore subjection to their par- ents till that fatal dispersion of them, after the fire, into several families. In those they were left at full liberty to converse with servants, which before they had always been restrained from; and to run abroad to play with any chil- dren, good or bad. They soon learned to neglect a strict observance of the Sab- 226 /Iftrs, Susanna Mesle^. bath, and got knowledge of several songs and bad things, which before thev had no notion of. That civil behavior, which made them admired when they were at home b^' all who saw them, was in a great measure lost, and a clownish ac- cent and many rude ways were learned, which were not reformed without some difficulty. When the house was rebuilt, and the children all brought home, we entered on a strict reform; and then was begun the custom of singing psalms at begin- ning and leaving school morning and evening; then also that of a general re- tirement at live o'clock was entered upon, when the oldest took the j'oungest that could speak, and the second the next, to whom they read the Psalms for the daj' and a chapter in the New Testament — as in the morning thev were directed to read the Psalms and a chapter in the Old Testament — after which they went to their private prayers before they got their breakfast or came into the family. There were several by-laws observed by us : " I. It had been observed by us that cowardice and fear of punishment often lead children into lying, till they get a custom of it which they cannot leave. 227 /Ibrs, Susanna "Mcslc^* To prevent this, a law was made that whoever was charged with a fault, of Avhich they were guilty, if they would ingenuously confess it, and promise to amend, should not be beaten. This rule prevented a great deal of lying, and would have done more, if one in the fam- ily had observed it. But he could not be prevailed on, and therefore was often imposed upon by false colors and equivo- cations, which none would have used but one, had they been kindly dealt with; and some, in spite of all, would always speak truth plainly. "2, That no sinful action, as lying, pil- fering at church or on the Lord's day, disobedience, quarreling, etc., should ever pass unpunished. " 3. That no child should be ever chid or beaten twice for the same fault; and that, if they amended, they should never be upbraided with it afterwards. "4. That every signal act of obedience, especially when it crossed upon their own inclinations, should be always commend- ed, and frequently rewarded, according to the merits of the case. " 5. That if ever any child performed an act of obedience or did anything with an intention to please, though the per- formance was not well, yet the obedience 228 /Iftrs. Susanna "QClcslei^. and intention should be kindly accepted, and the child with sweetness directed how to do better for the future. " 6. That propriety be inviolably pre- served, and none suffered to invade the property of another in the smallest mat- ter, though it were but of the value of a farthing, or a pin, which they might not take from the owner without, much less against, his consent. This rule can never be too much inculcated on the minds of children, and from the want of parents or governors doing it as they ought pro- ceeds that shameful neglect of justice which we may observe in the world. "7. That promises be strictly observed, and a gift once bestowed, and so the right passed away from the donor, be not resumed, but left to the disposal of him to whom it was given, unless it were con- ditional, and the condition of the obliga- tion not performed." The Devout Christian. As a Christian Mrs. Wesley was conscientious and devout. Amid all the multiplied cares and duties of her numerous household, she never neglected her private devotions nor abated her parish duties. From 3 229 ^rs. Susanna Mesleg. childhood she adhered rigidly to one rule, " not to spend more time in amusements in one day than she spent in meditation and prayer." Religion was the delightful atmos- phere of her home. The Epworth rectory was a very sanctuary of glad hearts and cheerful song. Mrs. Wesley's religious life was distin- guished by great prayerfulness. For divine strength and guidance she constantly besought the Lord. "Two hours of the day, one in the morning and another in the evening, with an occasional interval at noon, were consecrated to secret commun- ion with God." Another practice, which she recommended to others, was scrupulously observed through life : " Make an examination of yovir conscience at least three times a day, and omit no opportunity of retire- ment fron:i the world." In a letter to John on one occasion she said : " I see nothing in the disposition of your time but what I approve, un- -_ 230 ^rs, Susanna Wesleig. less it be that you do not assign enough of it to meditation, which is, I conceive, incomparably the best means to spiritualize our affections, confirm our judgment, and add strength to our pious resolutions, of any exercise whatever." During her husband s absence in London she had worship in her own house with the children and servants. At one of these Simday afternoon meetings at the rectory a few neighbors were present. They enjoyed the occasion, reported it, and the next Sabbath the number in- creased, vmtil at length as many as two hundred came. When the mat- ter was reported to her husband, while approving " her zeal and good sense," he stated several objections to its continuance. In reply Mrs. Wesley "wrote to her honored hus- band in substance as follows : I heartily thank you for dealing so plainly and faithfully with me in a matter of no common concern. The main of 231 ^rs. Susanna 'Mesle^. your objections against our Sunday even- ing meetings are, first, that it will look particular; secondly, my sex; and lastly, your being at present in a public station and character — to all which I shall an- swer briefly. As to its looking particular, I grant that it does ; and so does everything that is se- rious, or that may in any way advance the glory of God or the salvation of souls, if it be ^performed out of the fulpit or in the way of common conversation; because in our corrupt age the utmost care and dili- gence have been used to banish all dis- course of God or spiritual concerns out of society, as if religion were never to ap- pear out of the closet, and Ave were to be ashamed of nothing so much as profess- ing ourselves to be Christians. To your second, I reply that, as I am a woman, so I am also mistress of a large family; and though the superior charge of the souls contained in it lies upon you, as head of tne family, and as their minis- ter, yet in your absence I cannot but look upon every soul you leave under my care as a talent committed to me, un- der a trust, by the great Lord of all the families of heaven and earth. I thought it my duty to spend some part of the day in reading to and instructing my family, especially in your absence, when, having 232 ifbvs, Susanna TKHcsle^. no afternoon's service, we nave so much leisure for such exercises; and such time I esteemed spent in a v^^ay more accepta- ble to God than if I had retired to my own private devotions. This was the be- ginning of my present practice; othet people coming in and joining with us was purely accidental. Your third objection I leave to be answered by your own judgment. From the above it will be seen that Mrs. Wesley had no thought of assuming the functions of the pulpit, but her " irregularity " con- sisted in conducting family worship at the rectory, to ^vhich the neigh- bors were attracted, and from Avhich they were not excluded. Her point was that more should be done for the salvation of souls " out of the pulpit." Thus was her life a con- stant and holy ministry. The priest- ess of a happy family, her offerings of faith and love will be a fragrant and eternal sacrifice unto the God and Father of all flesh. On the 25th of April, 1735, Sam- 233 iSsxB, Susanna Wesley. uel Wesley, the toil-worn rector and devoted husband, passed to the bet- ter land. Just outside, and near the east end, of the old church where he had faithfully ministered for so many years he was gently laid to rest. The tomb is a flat stone, sup- ported by brickwork, on the face of which is the following inscription composed by Mrs. Wesley herself * Here Ljeth All That Was Mortal of Samuel Wesley, A.M. He was Rector of Ep- worth 39 Years, and Departed This Life 25th of April, 1735, Aged 72: And as he Lived so he Died In the True Catholic Faith 'Of the Holy Trinity in Unity, And that Jesus Christ is God Incarnate: And the Only Savior of Mankind. Acts iv. 12. Blessed are the Dead Which Die in the Lord, Yea Saith the Spirit That They May Rest From Their Labours and Their Works Do Follow Them. Rev. xiv. 13. Some years after the ascended rector had been laid beneath that 234 IS!)X3. Susanna TKUcsles* tomb his distingviished son stood vipon it and preached to a vast con- gregation gathered in the silent city of the dead. Denied his father's pulpit and a place at the chancel where his mother used to kneel, at the request of eager multitudes he made a pulpit of that father's tomb, and talked of the heaven to which he had gone. With a sad heart the now aged mother of the Wesleys passed out of the old parsonage, so tenderly in- terwoven with the dearest memories of an eventful life, to spend the rem- nant of her days among her devoted children. They vied with each oth- er, in gentle ministries, to make the evening of her life peaceful and happy. Among them she moved a wise counselor, and an inspiration to holy endeavor. Having trained her children for God, she acquiesced readily whenever and wherever he called them, however great her sac- rifice. When John Wesley was 235 jflRrs. Susanna Mesles. entreated by Gen. Oglethorpe and others to go as a missionary to the North American Indians and the settlers in Georgia, he declined, pleading the loneliness of his wid- Q-wed mother. He would not lay an- other stroke on her already bruised and aged spirit. At last, however, he agreed to go if his mother inter- posed no objection. Her consent would be interpreted as confirming the call of Providence. When con- sulted, instead of objecting as was natural, if not justifiable, she readily consented, and added these divinely inspired words : " Had I twenty sons, I should rejoice were they all so employed, though I should never see thein more." Her consecration was -well-nigh perfect. Because of joyous expe- rience she had late in life when tak- ing the communion, the idea ob- tained and found place in Mr. Wes- ley's Journal that she did not until then experience the inward consola- 236 /Bbrs. Susanna TKIlesles. tions of divine grace. And in the inscription on her tomb is this line : "A legal night of seventy jears." But Dr. Adam Clarke clearly dis- proves the statement, and sho^vs that from early life she had the con- scious " favor and approbation of God." Five and twenty years be- fore that especial baptism of the Spirit at the comiTivniion service she ■ w^rites of "a constant sense of God upon the soul," and rapturously ex- claims : "/ do love Thee.'''' Again, she says : " Give God the praise for any well-spent day. But I am yet unsatisfied, because I do not enjoy enough of God. I would have my soul more closely united to him by faith and love." And years after she writes : " Every degree of ap- proach toward him is, in the same proportion, a degree of happiness." One who had such joyous fello^v- ship with her Lord M^as certainly not in "legal night." Methodism owes much to the 237 /Iftrs. Susanna Wesley. mother of the Wesleys. With Isaac Taylor we may say with grateful reverence : " Wesley's mother was the mother of Methodism.*' Her apostolic sons, in all their evang-elis- tic labors, had their mother's -warm- est sympathies and constant prayers. To her wise counsel and calm fore- sight Methodism is indebted for lay evangelism, which converted that great revival into a spiritual revolu- tion, and established the mightiest ecclesiasticism of modern times. During Mr, Wesley's absence in the North of England Thomas Max- field, ^vithout other authority than the call of the Holy Spirit, began preaching to the " Old Foundry '' congregation. Mr. Wesley was shocked at such " Irregularity," and hastened to London to stop a scan- dal ; but fortunately for the world, he first met his mother, whose will and judgment, even at the height of his fame and po^ver, had for him the authority of law. She said : " My 238 /IRrs. Susanna "Mcelc^. soil, I charge you before God, be- ware what you do ; for Thomas Maxfield is as much called to preach the gospel as ever you -were." Mr. Wesley heard him, was convinced, and Maxfield became the first of that long line of lay preachers that have carried the gospel round the world. And doubtless many of the plans and measures elaborated in the " United Societies " had their origin in the family government of the Ep- worth parsonage. In a house connected with the Old Foundry church in London Mrs. Wesley spent her last days. Sur- rounded by all her children, on the 23d of July, 1742, she peacefully fell asleep in Jesus. Her dying words were : " Children, as soon as I am released^ sing a psalm of praise to God." And they did. That blessed parting testimony has been pre- served in one of Charles Wesley's funeral hymns, and sung to the com- fort of bereaved millions : P 239 Ilkv6, Susanna Wieslc^e* Lo! the prisoner is released, Lightened of her fleshly load; Where the weary are at rest, She is gathered in to God! John Wesley himself officiated at the funeral in presence of " almost an innumerable company of people." Over the open grave he preached a sermon from this text : " I saw a great white throne, and him that sat on it, from whose face the earth and the heaven fled away ; and there was found no place for them. And I sa\v the dead, small and great, stand before God ; and the books "were opened : and another book was opened, ^vhich is the book of life : and the dead were judged out of those things that were written in the books, according to their works." A plain stone was placed at the head of her grave, -with an elaborate inscription. But the stone and in- scription were both unsatisfactory. A new monument has been erected, on which are these words : 240 ISSits, Susanna Idesleg. Here lies the body of Mrs. Susannah Wesley, Widow of the Rev. Samuel Wesley, M.A. (late Pastor of Epworth, in Lincolnshire), Who died July 23, 1742, Aged 73 years. She was the youngest Daughter of the Rev. Samuel Annesley, D.D., ejected by the Act of Uniformity from the Rectory of St. Giles's, Cripplegate, Aug. 24, 1662. She was the Mother of Nineteen Children, of whom the most eininent were the Rev. John and Charles Wesley: the former of whom was txnder God the Founder of the Societies of the People Called Methodists. In Bunhill Fields, near the dust of Bvmyan, the immortal dreamer ; of Dr. Watts, the sweet psalinist ; of Daniel DeFoe, the beloved of chil- dren to the last generation ; and just across the street from City Road Chapel, her mortal remains await the glad morning of the resurrec- tion. In the emulation and imita- tion of her radiant virtues may the Church preserve a perpetual mem- ory of the mother of the Wesleys ! With Dr. Clarke, I am ready to say : " Many daughters have done virtuously, but Susannah Wesley has excelled them all." 16 241 1bul)barb lb, 1kavanaugb» 1802-1884. WHO could sketch Bishop Kav- anaugh as he really was? Who that did not know him in person could accept as trvie a sketch of him that would at all sat- isfy his surviving contemporaries? The strength of a giant, with the gen- tleness of a woman ; " the tongue of an angel, with the heart of a child;" the wisdom of a sage, with a wit that was fresh as the sparkling springs of his own Kentucky hills ; with an imagination that soared like an eagle in his loftiest flights and fluttered like the humming bird's wings among the flowers of poesy ; with a logic that compelled conviction in robust minds, and a tenderness that distilled comfort for bruised and broken hearts ; a man of God and a 243 IbubbarO 1bfn&e IkavanauQb. man of the people ; the wonder of the wise, and the idol of the masses — he was all this in his day. He wrote but little, and while the fruits of his life and labors abide with us and will never be lost, this new generation can have but a faint con- ception of the man as he was, or but imperfectly realize the sense of impoverishment that mingled with the grief of the Church when he died. Perhaps no man in the en- tire history of the Church did as much positive good while rousing so little antagonism. He was one of a group of great men. Though differing from them all in his genius and personality, he shared with the foremost of them in the love and esteem of the Church while they were all living. In the perspective he does not dwindle in the comparison. In his declamatory bursts he was scarcely inferior to that princely pulpit ora- tor, Henry B, Bascom. In steel- 244 IDubbarD Din&e Ikavanaugb. linked logic, William A. Smith, the corypheus of the great debate in the forties, did not excel him. In the coruscations of a wit that was spontaneous and sparkling, with never a trace of acidity, and a hu- mor that was irresistibly conta- gious, but never coarse, he might be ranked with McFerrin or Rich- ardson. In his pathos he touched the chords of the heart ^vith a power as subduing as that of the massive yet tender A. L. P. Green. In lucidity of statement he might at times be ranked with Bishop McTyeire, whose brain powder and Saxon-English were second to no man's of his day or ours. If he did not always equal Bishop Pierce in the brilliancy of his rhetoric — for on this line his efforts were un- equal — his flight w^as as lofty and his wing as tireless in the sweep of his sanctified imagination. If he had not as many angles or gnarled spots in his composition as Lorenzo 245 IbubljarJ) IbfnDe Ikavanauflb. Dow, Peter Cartwright, or Moses Brock, his individuality was not less marked. A personality more am- ple, benignant, and unique has not risen among us than that of Hub- bard H. Kavanaugh — orphan boy, typesetter in a printing office, cir- cuit rider, station preacher, presid- ing elder, editor, superintendent of public instruction, bishop — every- body's friend, and paterfamilias of the vast Methodist family from the Big Sandy in Kentvicky to the Golden Gate in California. To the thousands who will read his name at the head of this sketch the re- membrance of him is compounded of affection, gratitude, and admira- tion. To the younger generation of readers, our Epworth Leaguers and others, it is hoped that the reading of it will excite both admi- miration and a spirit of emulation, and thus in some measure lead them to glorify God in him. It means something more than 246 DubbarD 1 bin£>e IR avanauflb. the statement of a biographical fact to say that Bishop Kavanaugh was a Kentuckian, His Kentucky na- tivity was in his physique. The juices of the bhie grass pastures were in the veins and tissues of liis compact and robust body. The easy swing, the cumulative energy, the verbal abandon of the old Ken- tucky oratory, were his. He was, above all, an orator. That is the tradition of him that will survive. ' In that line he did the work which made his fame and blessed his gen- eration. Let the fact be here em- phasized that he was no mere de- claimer or " sky scraper." Lofty indeed were the flights of his elo- quence, but who ever heard him preach a sermon the body of which was not made up of sound doctrine and sti'ong logic? He was emi- nently, but not slavishly, textual ; a preacher mighty in the Scriptures. He expounded a text as few men could. He would focalize upon a 247 IbubbarD IbinDe IRavanaufib. question or point proof texts and explanatory passages of scripture until it absolutely blazed. But when a breeze of fancy or gale of passion struck him in the pulpit, he was quick to spread his canvas and sweep the waves. " It has been said to me that I sometimes leave my text, and I know it to be true," he once said ; " but," he added, with a twinkle in his eyes, " I keep in sight of it, so that I can go back to it — if I want toy His memory w^as stored with the words of the Bible, and his soul was saturated with its spirit. To any Christian man or woman who had an intelli- gent interest in the vital truths of the gospel, and any measure of re- sponsiveness to it as an experience, it was a positive luxury to hear him in one of his great discourses. On such occasions he was lost in his theme ; he himself was first over- powered by it, and then his hearers also. The pangs that pierce the 248 DubbarO IDinde IRavanauQb. penitent soul, the burden that op- presses it, the darkness that envel- ops it, the sense of ^^uilt and shame that terrify and strike it dumb, he described, mostly in Bible language, with a wonderful power. Sin and hell, holiness and heaven, were real- ities to him. It was a joy to be remembered for a lifetime to hear him describe the conversion of a sinner. It was impossible for saint or sinner to resist the contagion of his own enjoyment, which expressed itself in his dilating form, the kin- dling of his eye, the sweep of his arms, and the rapture that was on his face. It was oratory — and some- thing more. That something can- not be put on paper. It was that which fell upon the disciples and the multitude at the Pentecost, and shone in the face of Stephen be- fore the council. Such a sermon he preached at San Jos^, Cal., in 1863. For special reasons, not nec- essary here to detail, our people i* 249 iJubbarD IDinDc IRavanaugb. wished him to do his best that day. The house was full, and expecta- tion high. He started heavily, like the revolutions of the paddle wheel of a mighty steamer in getting un- der way. Among his hearers was Dr. Charles Wadsworth, that St. John of the Presbyterian pulpit, whose sermons were exquisite prose -poems that charmed and edified crov^ded and cultured congregations in Philadelphia and San Francisco. From my seat in the pulpit I watched the renowned Presbyterian divine as he sat there and listened to the stalwart Kentuckian, who was as unlike himself as one good man could be unlike another. The text was : " There is a spirit in man : and the inspiration of the Almighty giv- eth them understanding." (Job xxxii. 8.) The sermon lacked noth- ing that makes a sermon great. It was an argument against material- ism. He dug it up by the roots. His logic was as merciless as his spirit 250 IbubbarD 1bin&e Ikavanaugb. was kindly. By the time he had reached his peroration he had every hearer under the spell of his elo- quence ; every eye was attent, every - brain aroused, every heart respon- sive. And that peroration ! It can never be forgotten. The closing thought was that of the eternal pro- gression of the redeemed soul in the world of spirits. As he spoke he seemed to feel in all his being the powers of the life to come, to behold the glory that he pictured to his hear- . ers, and to thrill and tremble as if in-, the presence of the King immortal, eternal, invisible, the infinite and blessed God. It was literally over- whelming. When he sat down there were long respirations and straightening up of necks that w^ere leaned forward, with here and there half-uttered expressions of the deep, profound emotion of the rapt audi- tory. "I thank God for bringing me here this day ! " exclaimed Dr. Wadsworth, grasping my hand ; 251 ■fijubbarD Din&e IRavanaugb. " that was the grandest sermon I ever heard." At this distance of time the "words do not seem extrav- g-ant. The way in which this ser- n:ion began and ended recalls the remark of one who asked a friend, " Did you ever hear Bishop Kava- naugh preach ? " and after getting a negative answer, added, " Well, you ought to hear him. The first half hour you will wish that he had never begun, and the last half hour you will wish that he would never end." When Methodism is grafted upon Irish stock we may look for sancti- fied wit or sanctified pugnacity, and usually grace abounding is demand- ed to keep the wit and the pugnaci- ty within proper bounds. Bishop Kavanaugh was as full of wit and humor as a ripened California orange is full of juice ; but if he ever, in his merriest moods, offend- ed against genuine courtesy or true refinement, I have never heard of 252 IbubbarO IbmDc IRavanaugb. it. Pugnacity, or combativeness, he had ; his chest, neck, and back head might have been those of a prize figliter ; but the religion of love made hiin a child of God, and he loved all men. The elements in his nature fliat might have developed into extra combativeness on the nat- ural plane, under the reign of grace made him a mighty man of God and a leader in the militant Church. His Celtic extraction exhibited itself in his ruddy complexion and san- guine temperament. On the mater- nal side his heredity vs^as Anglo- Virginian. His grandfather was Dr. Thomas Hinde, who married Mary T. Hubbard. They were nominal Episcopalians of average quality. When the Methodists came to that part of the country they went to hear them from curiosity, and, like hundreds and thousands of oth- ers, they were converted in the midst of such scenes as recalled the wonders of New Testament times. 253 DubbarJ) IblnDe IkavanaufiD. The opposition to Methodism was intensified by its success. The old order of things was broken up. Formalists protested, unbelievers scoffed ; but the indomitable itiner- ants marched on, preaching, sing- ing, shouting, making the most he- roic chapters in the history of mod- ern Christianity. Little of this his- tory has gone into the chronicles of human achievement, but it is record- ed on high. For what is best in the character and institutions of the people of the middle, southern, and western States of America they are more indebted to the pioneer Meth- odist preachers than to any other human agency. It is told as a char- acteristic incident of those times that the maternal grandfather of Bishop Kavanaugh, Dr. Hinde:„ thinking that his wife's " profession " under Methodist preaching indi- cated lunacy, rather than conver- sion, applied a blister plaster to the back of her neck " to bring her to 254 IbubbarO 1 bin5e IR avanaugb. her senses," as he expressed it. The result was very different from what he hoped for. The wife's meekness, patience, and heroism had the effect of a blister applied to the conscience of the husband ; he was awakened and " powerfully " con- verted, and became a Methodist for life. The grandson, our bishop, had the simplicity and fervor of the grandfather, with the persistence and intensity of the grandmother. Of his own mother, Hannah Hub- bard Hinde, he said : " The leading characteristics that marked the life of my mother were patience, forti- tude, and trust in God ; a general affection for all good people, and a generous concern for the bad ; a deep and abiding sympathy for the poor and unfortunate ; a strong at- tachment to the cause of God, his Church, and the ministry." For several years previous to her death she was disabled by a stroke of palsy. " In this condition," said the Q 255 •K)ut)l)arJ) Dln&c IRavanauflb. Bishop, " she gave herself to much meditation and singing, or humming the tunes in which she had been ac- customed to praise God." She had firmly, but gently declined to go with her first husband into the Epis- copal Church. She was married thrice. Her religion and her Meth- odism stood all the strains that were put upon her. Her first taste of Methodism was when she was in her twelfth year, in Virginia. Even so sound an Arminian as Bishop Kavanaugh himself might not find- it difficult to believe that he was in a good and true sense predestined to be a Methodist, and that she was foreordained to be the mother of a Methodist bishop. Left an orphan in his fifth year by the death of his father, the care of the boy who was to become the future bishop devolved exclusively upon his mother. In his last years he said that he had never dis- obeyed his mother nor been tm- 256 DubbarD T bin&e TK avanaugb. mindful of her wishes. Read that remark over again ; the words seem to be luminous as the eye rests on them. In his boyhood he was faithful and courageous, biit in no wise precocious or peculiar. At the age of thirteen, " anxious to place within the reach of her son the means of support, and desirous to protect his morals " — mark the words — " she bound him as an ap- prentice to the Rev. John Lyle, of Paris, K}^, to learn the printing business." Mr. Lyle was a devout and able minister of the Presbyte- rian Church. Seeing the promise of the boy, he often took him with him to his preaching appointments. That he profited by the companion- ship, conversation, and sermons of the sturdy and kindly Presbyterian preacher, we may not doubt. The instructions of Mr. Lyle, coopera- ting with the influence of his mother, prepared him for the awakening touch that came to him while listen- 17 257 1** •DuDbarD TbinDe iRavanaugb. ing to a sermon by a Baptist preach- er. He tells us that he was con- verted so clearly and powerfully that he shouted the praises of God. It is not strange that so many were made to shout for joy under his own preaching afterwards. His spirit- ual children were after his own like- ness in that particular. Referring to the agencies employed in his con- version, he often said : " I covild not be a bigot ; for my father was a Protestant Episcopal clergyman, my mother a Methodist. I was awak- ened under a sermon preached b}^ a Baptist preacher, and converted while traveling with a Presb3'terian preacher. So I owe something to all the Churches, and could not be a bigot if I were to try." The kind-hearted and discerning Mr. Lyle made him the offer of a classical education on condition that he would enter the Presbyterian Church. The metal of his mother was manifested in her reply : " I 258 •fiJulJbarJ) 1bin&e IRavanaugb. want him to be first a Christian, and next a Methodist ; to me they mean the same thing. If God has called Hubbard to preach, he has called him to preach a free salvation." Yea, verily ! • Who ever preached a freer, fuller, more joyous salvation than he? Among the heroines of Methodism — the shining roll is not yet completed, thanks be to God ! — the name of this mother of our bish- op is to be registered. Like that other Hannah of sacred renov^^n, she might have said : " For this child I prayed, and the Lord hath given me my petition w^hich I asked of him ; therefore also I have lent him to the Lord. As long as he liveth he shall be lent to the Lord." Is it not true, as a rule, that the special touch that comes to men called to minister in sacred things comes through the mother? Ah, if every minister of Christ who read these lines were to answer the foregoing inquiry, the consensus of their testimony would 259 •tt)ubbar& Ibin&e IRavanaiigb. thrill many a filial heart, and make- many a godly mother in Israel feel like joining Elkanah's wife in her thanksgiving song. The saying of Dr. Johnson con- cerning Oliver Goldsriiith might be reversed and, with a slight change, applied to Bishop Kavanaugh with some propriety : " He spoke like an angel, and ^vrote like " — a man who disliked \vriting. He ^vas a preach- er, not a writer. He has left but little of his printed thought for pos- terity. In his ordinary pulpit efforts he rarely, if ever, used " notes " of any sort. Plis genius "v^'as cramped by pen and ink. " Paper is a potent nonconductor in the pulpit," he once said in his kindly way to a j^oung preacher who had stammered and floundered through his notes in a frightened attempt at preaching in his presence. He himself once fur- nished a striking illustration of the truth of this remark. It ^vas on the occasion of the delivery of his semi- 260 IbubbarO IbmOe IRavanaugb. centennial sermon before the An- nual Conference in the city of Lex- ington, Ky. It was a touching service, into which were crowded the memories of fifty years. His sermon was -written, and the manu- script lay before him. It was his first effort at sermon reading. He groped along the lines doubtfully and hesitatingly until, fired by some suggestion that struck his mind, he forgot the manuscript, and soared aloft into one of his characteristic oratorical flights ; then, remember- ing the special demands of the occa- sion, he reverted to the w^riting be- fore him, but alas ! he had forgot- ten w^here he had last been reading, or was unable to find the place. So he went on, halting and floundering, for two mortal hours, both the speaker and the audience being fully consciotis that he was not a good reader of sermons. That was his first and last effort in that role — as well it might have been. 261 IbubbarJ) DinDe iRavanaugb. It is proper for us here to put to- gether a few threads of history. Bishop Kavanaugh was licensed to preach in 1822, being recommended to the District Conference by the Quarterly Conference of the Mt. Sterling Circuit. In those days there were giants in the Methodist ministry in Kentucky. Among them were svich men as Thomas A. Mor- ris, afterwards a bishop, a man in whom common sense was incarna- ted, and devoutness also ; Marcus Lindsey, a " doctrinal preacher," for whom there was special need in those days of polemic fermentation, a massive, rounded man, a wise leader, and an able preacher ; An- drew Monroe, symmetrical, sensible, and saintly ; Peter Cartwright, a hard hitter, a rough diamond that needed attrition and got it ; Benja- min T. Crouch, with the dash of a cavalier and the tenacity of a Cov- enanter, portly in his physique, with a large-heartedness that made him 262 •©ubbarO IbinDcJRavanaugb. the friend of every man and the benefactor of all the needy within his reach ; Ed^vard Stevenson, a Christian minister, broad-minded, scholarly, sweet-souled ; Benjamin Larkin, a burning and shining light, a revivalist in whose tracks the wil- derness bloomed ; Jonathan Stamp- er, a defender of Methodism at a time when it was attacked on all sides, an expounder of the Scrip- tures who did expound, a magnetic and lovable man, whose name is as ointment poured forth ; and Barna- bas McHenry, a man of great po^v- er in ' the pulpit, and spotless life, whose biographical sketch closes with the quaint reixiark that "he en- joyed the blessing of sanctiiication, and died of cholera, in triumph, on the 1 6th of June, 1833." There were others not less worthy. These were the men that molded }oung Kavanaugh ; they were his models, guides, censors, and helpers. For Larkin, who received him into the 263 IbubbarD IbfuDc IRavanaufib. Church, he always felt an affection that was almost filial. His license to preach bore the signature of Lindsey. Bishop Kavanaugh was twice married, and both times most hap- Young Kavanaugh grew steadil}'- in strength and popularity. On cir- cuits and stations, as college agent, as superintendent of public instruc- tion by appointment of Gov. Clark, as corresponding editor for a short time of the JMethodist Expositor and True Issue^ and as delegate to successive General Conferences, he rendered effective service to his Church and the cause of Christ. Though distasteful to him, his editorial work was well done. He took hold of it earnestly from a sense of duty, a motive that lightens all burdens and sweetens all sacri- fices. It is said that many of the ablest articles on the troubles that agitated the Church were from his 264 DubbarO IbinDe IRavanaugb. pen.* His department of the paper^ it is said, "abounded in sparkling wit and richest humor," a statement easy of belief to all who knew him. On those lines he was so felicitous and unfailing that not even the in- evitable asperities of sectarian or sectional controversy could chill the glow of his sunny and joyous spirit. A short pastorate in Cincinnati dur- ing that stormy time was a trying and instructive episode in his pastor- al experience. He did not escape the friction incident to the existing con- ditions ; but he struck no foul blow during all the strife, and came out of it with no bitterness in his heart, and no burden upon his conscience. He was a member of the fateful General Conference of 1844, when the Methodist Episcopal Church ^The Methodist Expositor and True Issue was, as its name indicates, a product of the times. It championed the South- ern side in the great debate which pre- ceded the conflict of arms. 265 UubbarD DinDc IRavanaugb. was divided on a geographical line. He went with his section, as did most of his colleagues. It was to him a painful necessity, but a neces- sity it seemed to be. He was also a member of the convention which met in Louisville in May, 1845, at which the question of the organization of a separate ec- clesiastical jvirisdiction was consid- ered. He spoke with great power in behalf of such action. He closed his speech in the words of Ruth to Naomi — his eyes sweeping over the body of delegates, who were pro- foundly affected by his eloquence : " Whither thou goest, I will go ; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge : thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God : where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried : the Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me." (Ruth i. 16, 17.) That pledge ■was kept in letter and spirit. His election to the episcopacy in 266 IbubbarO IbinDeJRavanaugb. 1854 was the natural outcome of the conditions existing, and a natural expression of the esteem in which he was held by the Church. The three bishops then elected, Pierce, Early, and Kavanaugh — the first from Georgia, the second from Vir- ginia, and the third from Kentucky — represented the different parts of the Church territorially, and consti- tuted a trinity of talent and individ- uality truly extraordinary. From this time forward the fame of the great Kentucky preacher be- came connectional. His career was a succession of pulpit ovations. In the social circle everywhere he ex- cited equally affection and admira- tion. The w^hole Church claimed him as a father in God. The Ken- tuckians loved him as they loved no other man, and this love for him was confined to no class nor circle, color nor creed. There was a singular friendship between him and Thom- as F. Marshall, the brilliant Ken- 267* •ffijubbarJ) Ibin&e IRavanaugb. tuckian, who was one of a countless list of victims to the devil's own po- tent agency for the murder of men's bodies and souls — alcohol. During the war between the States Bishop Kavanaugh came to California at the earnest request of the Pacific Conference. He was the only bishop accessible at the time, all the rest being within the lines of the Confederate armies. While attending a camp meeting in the San Joaquin valley he was ar- rested by a provost marshal, with orders to bring him to the military headquarters at San Francisco for trial. Capt. Jackson, provost mar- shal of the sovithern district of Cal- ifornia, hiinself a Kentuckian, made the arrest, and discharged the duty with all possible delicacy and gentle- ness. When arraigned before Gen. Mason, assistant provost marshal for the Pacific Coast, he was no- tified that the complaints against him were : " First, that he was a 268 •QJubDarJ) IDinDe IRavanaugb. -citizen of the State of Georgia ; sec- ondly, that he had crossed the mili- tary lines with a pass from the Con- federate authorities ; and thirdly, that he was on the Pacific Coast without any visible business." A dangerous man to be at large, truly ! " These charges were verbally stat- ed," said the Bishop. " I was not furnished with written charges or specifications, nor with the names of my accuser or accusers. I did not ask who preferred these charges. Indeed, I had no desire to know the names of those who set on foot such baseless accusations." At the sug- gestion of Gen. Mason, the Bish- op furnished Gen. McDowell a writ- ten statement of the facts in the case, showing that he was not a cit- izen of Georgia, that he had not crossed the military lines with a pass from the Confederate authorities, and that he was on the Pacific Coast on Church business strictly. He said : 269 DuDbaro IDinDe Ikavanaugb. I came here on this business alone, and on no mission either directly or indi- rectl}"^ connected with politics or the war, and least of all to stir up dissension or en- courage opposition to the government or laws. Residing, as I do, in Kentucky, where great diversity of opinion prevails in regard to the war, I have deemed it my duty as a minister of the gospel not only to abstain from participating in po- litical affairs, but, on the contrary, to mit- igate as far as practicable the asperity of feeling which prevails so widely in that State. I have deemed mine to be a mis- sion of love and peace, and have so act- ed, both here and there. So far as I know, my conduct has never been ques- tioned by the military authorities of Ken- tucky, where I have lived so long and am so widely known, nofwdthstanding the intense excitement which has pre- vailed in that State. Under these cir- cumstances I find myself, comparatively a stranger on this coast and far from home, suddenly arraigned before the mil- itary authorities on charges preferred by persons Avholly unknown to me. That I am deeply pained by this proceeding, I candidly confess; not so much because of any injury to myself as because of the reproach it brings on my sacred calling 270 IbubbarD 1bin&e IRavanaugFj. and on the Church with which I am connected. I acknowledge, however, with pleasure, the courtesy which has been extended to me by all the officers connected Avith the affair. It is safe to say that every officer of the army who came in contact with the genial, magnetic, and grand old bishop thought better and not worse of his religion, and retained a lifelong, pleasurable memory of the man himself. It was characteristic of the Bishop that he requested per- mission to fulfill his promise to preach on the day of his arrest, and did preach one of his grandest ser- mons. Capt. Jackson, the provost marshal, declared it to be one of the most eloquent discourses he ever heard. It is also a character- istic fact that he did not wish to know the name of his false accuser, of whom he always spoke pitying- ly rather than resentfully. If all our leaders in Church and State had been as discreet, patriotic, and Christlike as he, not a drop of fra- R 271 IbubbarD IbinDc Ikavanausb. ternal blood would have been shed in the settlement of the questions that brought on the war. Bishop Kavanaugh loved Califor- nia, notwithstanding this peculiar episode. His first visit was made in 1856. After hearing two of his sermons in San Francisco during the summer of that year, the editor of the California Christian Advocate said : He has now spent two Sabbaths in San Francisco, and in each instance has occu- pied the pulpits of the Methodist Episco- pal churches. His discourses have been marked by purity of sentiment, felicity of expression, beauty and force of illustra- tion, and a most refreshing unction. His claim to the apostolic succession is valifl, and his labors among us have heightened our estimate of " Christianity in earnest" as a divinely instituted agency for the saving of men. He is doing the work of an evangelist in the Stats, everywhere diffusing the savor of a kindly Christian influence, tending to the harmony and consequent efficiency of Methodism in the land. 272 IbubbarD IbinDe IRavanaugb. The foregoing words from the editor of the organ of our sister Methodist Church truly and moder- ately state what might be said of his entire record of service during his visits to the Pacific Coast. A lady who was a fellow-traveler with the Bishop and his wife on his last visit to California gave some lifelike touches in a letter to the Louisville Cotirier-Jotirnal^ which the reader will relish : My nearest car neighbor is a very stout, smooth-faced gentleman, with grayish- brown hair, which is cut short and stands like the quills of the fretful porcupine. He has a big nose, small eyes, and heavy jaws. His small hands rest upon a gold- headed cane, and much of the time he is apparently' in deep thought. He is very gentle and unassuming in his manners. By his side is a tiny lady with silvery curls about her face. She is handsomely dressed, and has a bright smile for every one; but the big man at her side is evi- dently her chief care and pride. She is never still a moment. She brushes his coat with her little gloved hand; she pours cologne on a handkerchief and IS 273 ijubbarD IbinDe IRavanaugb. waves it about as if to fumigate him; she spies a sunbeam that is about to find its way to her husband's thoughtful eyes, and instantly it is put outside the blind. When the little lunch table is set up in the sleeper she tucks a napkin about him, butters his bread, puts jelly upon it, pats it gently with the knife before she gives it to him. The whole repast is in honor of her husband, and every delicacy is heaped upon him. This makes me think of a humming bird and a pumpkin blos- som. Large and open-hearted and gold- en-hearted is the flower, also the bishop. The pumpkin blossom is not swayed, like the frail morning-glory, with every pass- ing breeze, but firm and very lowly, and almost hidden by the leaves of its humility, it blooms close to our feet, un- conscious that it is the largest and most royal flower in the garden. The poetry and the realism in this bit of description give it equal charm and value. He seemed almost to have learned the secret of perpetual youth. At the age of seventy-one years there vs^as scarcely a gray hair upon his head. When his attention was 274 IbubbarD Ibin&e IRavanaugb. called to this fact he retorted, " I suppose I was born so green that it takes me a long time to season" — his kindly face beaming and his am- ple frame shaking with merriment. On his eightieth birthday he ^vas vis- ited by a goodly number of his min- isterial brethren in Louisville, Ky. The reporter of a secular newspa- paper says : In reply to their affectionate greetings and kindly congratulations, he responded in a brief but touching speech, in which he declared that he prized this testimonial the more highly as it came from brethren who were his neighbors, and had known him so long and well, and for every one of whom he felt a loving concern. Ken- tuckj' Methodist preachers and their fam- ilies had so long been objects of special interest to nim that he knew but little difference between them and his own family, and from them he had never been, nor ever could be, separated by time nor distance nor official position nor aught else. He adverted to his advanced age, and referred to his robust health and al- most entire exemption from the infirmi- ties incident to his period of life, for 275 IbubbarD IbtnDe IRavanaugb. which he thanked God, chiefly because he was thus enabled to do more for the Master, in whose service he found con- stantly increasing delight. He spoke of his personal religious experience as all the while deepening and broadening and brightening, and as having become an as- sured conviction, full of the joy inspired by the expectation ol entering soon upon eternal life. The simplicity and sincerity and earnestness with which these things were said, together with the Bishop's es- tablished reputation for integrity and piety, so well known to his brethren, gave great weight to these utterances, and wrought the company up to a pitch of godly enthusiasm that burst forth in the singing of a thrilling stanza from the hymn "A Home over There." He preached his last sermon, as he did his first, in a Presbyterian Chm-ch — the Lafayette Presbyteri- an Church, New Orleans, Rev. Dr. Markham pastor. This was on February lo, 1884. Dr. Markham, in an account of the occasion, says : Short of stature and round and full in person, the embodiment of sturdy strength, this veteran of sixty campaigns 276 IbubbarO ibin&e IRavanaugb. "wielded his weapons with the vigor and force of a warrior in his prime, striking blows that divided asunder the joints of the harness of doubt and error. . . . In appearance and action twenty .years younger than the age whicli time has " set to his score," his bow abides in strength, and, save in a slowness of step, due, doubtless, in no small measure, to an unusual weight of body, scarce a trace of the "labor and sorrow" of the four- score can be seen. So that he still brings forth fruit in old age. He began the sermon with a deliberation of speech and a quietness of manner that made the outset seem subdued and slow, but which soon rose into a glow, which, sustained through an hour and a quarter of earnest utterance and animated movement — un- helped by manuscript or note — arrested and fixed the attention of the well-iilled house, in which young and old sat inter- ested, instructed, and refreshed; the thoughts so clear and the words so plain that the young in their teens easily ap- prehend all that Avas said; while the rich, fresh matter, the simple, chaste style, and the direct and pointed manner made the mature and aged listen with profit and delight. . . . The Methodist Church is to be congratulated in that, through 277 IbubbarD IDtnDe ikavanaugb. the thirty years of his itinerancy and the thirty years of his episcopate, his labors covering her extended territory from the Atlantic to the Pacific (including five episcopal visits to California), her people have had the benefit and blessing of the teachings of one so manifestly "anointed and set apart," to whom the Spirit has re- vealed the deep things, opening his un- derstanding and warming his heart to set forth with power the mysteries of the kingdom of grace and the anticipation of the kingdom of glory. That was his last sermon. The next Sunday he was at Ocean Springs, where he had an engage- ment to preach that day. After the opening exercises he announced his text : " For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eter- nal weight of glory." (2 Cor. iv. 17.) As was his habit, he read his text a second time. After a few mo- ments' pause, he asked for a glass of water and referred to his ex- hausted condition, and then he read his text for the third time. Find- 278 DubbarD •tt)tnDc IRavanaugb. ing that he was unable to proceed, he sunk into his seat. After a few days of suffering, interspersed with brief intervals of relief, during which he was always patient and at times even playful and witty, he "fell on sleep," and awoke in the world of spirits. He was buried at Louisville, Ky,, and was mourned by the whole Church Here this sketch may fit- ly close with a few sentences taken from the tributes paid to his mem- ory by brethren who spoke for the whole Methodist commimion and a great company beyond : Kentucky has had many great states- men, men of wonderful reputation, great scientists, great citizens. I hesitate not to say that we bury to-day the most eminent and useful citizen with which God ever blessed the commonwealth. Think of this holy, devotional life, running through sixty-one years, light in darkness, sweet- ening bitterness, leading men to God! Kentucky had this light for sixty years. No man can put a finger on a single spot 279 IbubbarJ) IbtnDe Iftavanaugb. of his record and say that it is faulty. You will feel jour loss more to-morrow than to-day, and more next month, and in the time to come your full loss will be known. It seems to me that our brother could have fitly spoken the words of Samuel's fare- well speech; and when he had spoken those words, had you answered, you would have had to answer as the children of Is- rael did. — Bishop McTyeire' s Funeral Ser- mon. Bishop Kavanaugh never seemed to be harassed by evil passions or unhappy thoughts, but was uniformly bright and genial. As a pulpit orator he was incom- parable. — Dr. John B. McFerrin. He being dead yet speaketh. His work abides. The memory of the just shall be blessed. 280 BISHOP GEORGE F, PIERCE. 1811-1884. AMONG these " Eminent Methodists" surely he should have a place. In temperament, in ideas, in every- thing that determined natural pro- clivity and influenced his life, he was akin to the people called Meth- odists. The very streak of Hard- shellism in his composition — his grandparents belonged to the strait- est sect of that persuasion — made him the exponent of the Methodism of his day that had the stiffest back- bone and the least tolerance for inno- vation. At the time when he was the most popular preacher in the South he was also one of the most pointed. When cultured men and bejeweled -women crowded to hear him in our chief cities, he enjoined humility of spirit and simplicity of 281 :©i0bop George ^, pierce. dress just as if he were talking to men and women clad in homespun garments in the backwoods. At the time when our schools of liberal learning were laying their honors at his feet, he avo^ved his unyield- ing hostility to theological schools — *' head and heart, tongvie and pen, now and forever," to use his own words. Truly he was a Hard-shell Methodist, but with a heart as warm, a genius as brilliant, and an imagi- nation as glowing as any man of his generation. His Church decided against his views on some points, but those who differed from him most widely would now confess that w^hat they regarded as his ultracon- servatism came in opportunely as a potent factor in molding opinion and policy in our Church at a crit- ical and transitional period in its his- tory. He liked our Methodism as it was, and believed that changes should be made slowly. " I think," he said, "that the Methodist ministry, just as it is, taken as a whole, is the 282 aSfsbop ©eorgc 3f . fXerce. best in the world — and the best be- cause it achieves on a larger scale than any other the great ends of gospel preaching." He was speak- ing of theological schools. His antagonist in this discussion was Bishop H. N. McTyeire. It was a collision of giants — the clear- headed, keen-sighted, far-seeing pa- tron of learning and prophet of-- progress on the one side, and the able and devout conservative and leader of those who were w^alking in the old paths on the other. Pierce and McTyeire ! Take from the history of our Church what these two men have contrib- uted to it, and who could measure the loss ! They were not chiefs of hostile bands in our Israel, but cap- tains of distinct corps of a mighty host marching forward on the same general lines. The one was for West Point, with its scientific meth- od and precision ; the other, the en- thusiasm and dash of the volunteer soldierv The Church has the a metic, from which he tore the leaves, one at a time, and carried them around in his hat, that he might study at odd moments. (Our young theologues at Vanderbilt University and elsewhere may make a note here.) Young Bottomley devoured and absorbed all the reading that came w^ithin his reach. It was a fortunate circumstance for him that an uncle with whom he lived, seeing this to be so, furnished him with the parts of Clarke's " Commentary " as they issued from the press, fresh from the hands of the author. This great work, still a standard among Meth- odists, he read with the avidity char- acteristic of a youthful mind revel- ing in the new world of thought into which he had been introduced. He assimilated it so fully that it was a permanent acquisition. He knew Clarke's "Commentary" "by heart," in the fullest, closest sense of the expression. Thus was laid 325 tTbomas :©ottomlcs. the foundation of a theological edu- cation strong enough to sustain the spacious and lofty superstructure which was reared thereupon. It was fortunate for the youth that he lived before the. age of cheap printing had fully come. Cheap printing goes very often with shal- low thinking. There may be no necessary correlation betw^een the two things, but that it is so is but too patent to all who have their eyes open to the facts as they are. It is xvhat young people read, rather than the quantity, that determines its value. In this later day the land is flooded with so - called " cheap reading," much of it so trashy and so vicious that it is dear at any price. The best that can be said of much of it is that it is worthless. But much of this " cheap reading " is not merely negatively bad, nor worth- less simply ; it is positively vicious. It is not merely namby - pamby, M'ishy-washy, morbid and silly ; it is slangy, sensuous, morbid in tone, 326 trboma0 JSottomle^. flavored with ingredients that de- bauch the taste and poison the springs of youthful thought, feeling, and action. No, it was not wholly a misfortune that Thomas Bottom- ley lacked some of the " privileges " enjoyed by many young people now. The fact that he had noth- ing to read but the Bible and the sviccessive numbers of Clarke's " Commentary " as they issued from the press was not altogether a mis- forttine to this eager, hungry-minded youth. He got value received for the time he gave to reading. Like most other blessings of civilization, the printing press is attended w^ith perils proportioned to its value. The suggestion comes in here — • not novel or startling, but none the less fitting — that every parent or guardian of youth who may read this booklet should guard with all diligence and firmness against trashy or vicious reading. And this other suggestion may be given to any youth who may read 327 ^boma0 :S3ottomle^. what is here printed : Be as select in the books you read as in the company you keep. (Read that last sentence over slowly, and resolve to follow the advice it gives, young friends. Read t:p, and not do\vn, as so many do in these days when the land is flooded with flashiness and trashiness, foolishness an