i • ^« fill • ##1 v^^ s^'^^^ '^O — > .-•. V^'** O^'^o-.. V- ^' 'e» A ? ,. ^ *'^ ^4? ^ ♦•To* .^^ ^q. *- #»*» *V „. <^ '•• r- 5> *^ • mO • .^^% ' "^o A <» '»•»* Jy ^ *'Tvi» .rcach. During the scr- 68 CAMP-MEETINGS AND SO-FORTH. mon I was overcome with tears, and had to stop, and give vent to my feelings. ''Nov. 11. I rode after night six miles, and preached the best I could to a large congregation. Here I finished the labor of two years. Blessed be God that I can leave the circuit with a conscience void of offense toward God and man ! I do know that my feeble exertions have been blessed. I believe, if I never meet or see these people in this world again, I shall meet numbers of them in heaven; for which prospect I give glory to Almighty God." Between the close of his regular w^ork and the Annual Conference he is actively engaged on extra duty. Rewrites: "Nov. 14, 1826. I rode to my mother's, and preached to a large congregation. I remained at Bellefonte until the sixteenth." This was indeed a year of great labor and trial. He does not state the nature of his physical afflic- tion. We think it probable that he had the all- prevailing disease of the Tennessee Eiver bottoms, chills and fever. His pulpit labors were increased by a very vehement delivery. Upon this point I quote from a letter of the Rev. E. K. Brown, of the Tennessee Conference: "You know that your father, in his riper years, was very deliberate in his delivery; and yet, I remember, he said to me, for my comfort, that his greatest grief in his earlier ministry was that some of his friends compared him to a certain old Baptist preacher, whose deliv- ery was like pouring peas on a rawhide." I have heard my father refer frequently to the difficulty CAMP-MEETINGS AND SO-FORTH. 69 he had in toning clown his voice and gestures; but * there are reasons sometimes for apparently unrea- sonable things. Persons who have had no experi- ence in public speaking cannot appreciate the fact that some temperaments require considerable phys- ical effort to warm the circulation and electrify the brain, when the brightest thoughts seem to be the creations of nervous fervor. This is particularly the case with young preachers, who, like young dogs, run the best on a warm trail; and even old preachers are sometimes prosy when their brains are cool. 17. Madison a^^d Limestone Ciecuits. |HE Rev. Ambrose F. Driskill was ap- pointed by the Tennessee Conference of 1826 as the senior colleague of A. L. P. Green on the Madison Circuit. For some reason they did not labor together. While Mr. Driskill was not the actual, but onl}" the official, associate of my father in his public min- istry, it may not be irrelevant to devote a short paragraph to the memory of a strong preacher and a good man. I remember Mr. Driskill as a Presiding Elder. He was in charge of the Nashville District when I was a child. He impressed me as a man who had his views and his ways. My brother and I stood around and looked at him. He carried the atmos- phere of holiness about him. He was a Methodist in usage and doctrine; never ran on any of the branches; stuck to the trunk-line. I heard my father remark that he remembered Mr. Driskill at an early day as the most tastefully-dressed gentle- man in the Conference — not foppish, but elegant, in the fit and neatness of his apparel. Mr. Driskill joined the Tennessee Conference on trial in 1822, (70) MADTSOX AND LIMESTONE CIRCCTTS. 71 and died while in charge of the Madison Circuit, ]^orth Alabama Conference, in 1875. The labors of the second year are finished, and my father enters in his diary: '''Nov. 22, 1826. I started with Brother Davidson for the Tennessee Annual Conference, to be held in Kashville, Tennessee. On our way we staid all night with Brothers Steger, Watkins, McMahon, Rows, Johnson, and the Rev. Thomas D. Porter. We were on the way live days and a half; ^ve reached [N'ashville on Monday. Our Conference opened on Tuesda}^ November 28, and held until December 5. At ten o'clock on Tuesday night we received our appointments. Brother Ambrose F. Driskill and I w^ere read out to the Madison Circuit, and on Wednesday, December 6, started for our work. We met the first appointment December 10. Brother Driskill preached. On the same day I understood that I had been removed to the Limestone Circuit." We can hardly realize, witli the improved trans- ]3ortation of the present day, that a member of the Tennessee Conference in 1826 spent nearly six days in traveling from Jackson county, Alabama, to Nashville. On the morning of November 27, 1826, A. L. P. Green saw his future home for the lirst time. We should like to know what were his impressions of the little city and its people; but no, not a word is written — ^not even the name of the family with whom he staid. He could not be returned to the Jackson Circuit; the two-years' pastorate had closed. Perhaps the all-absorbing question, Where shall I be 72 MADISON AND LIMESTONE CIRCUITS. sent? shut out every thing else. He says nothing of his ordination to the deaconship by Bishop Soule; he does not state why he was changed from the Madison to the Limestone Circuit immediately after the Conference. The choicest bits he throws, with- out any ceremony, to that insatiable gormand. Ob- livion. But, after all, if we had it all, would it be possible to write a history at all? I think, Not at all! The Rev. James McFerrin w^as the senior preacher on the Limestone Circuit. He and Mr. G-reen had spent a delightful year together on the Jackson Circuit. Mr. McFerrin must have his youthful associate again. The change was a re- newal of a pleasant association, agreeable to both parties. There would certainly have been no want of affinity between Messrs. Driskill and Green, who were warm, devoted friends all their lives. He makes the first entry in his diary: "Dec. 12, 1826. I rode twelve miles, and attended an appointment at jN'ubbin Ridge, which was the first appointment of mine on the Limestone Circuit. Brother John B. McFerrin preached a very good sermon." [Mr. McFerrin was junior preacher on the Lawrence Circuit, with the Rev. Alexander Sale.] '-'Dec. 18, 1826. I attended an appointment at Triana. The day was rainy, congregation small, and meeting very cold." I subjoin a poem, which he dedicated to the peo- ple of Triana. It is just a little sally of humor, and gave no ofi'ense at the time. Indeed, the present Trianians have no part or parcel in it: MADISON AND LIMESTONE CIRCUITS. 73 A POEM FOR THE PEOPLE OF TRIANA. As I was on my horse, and bound To places strange and new — Indeed, it being my first round, And scarcely knowing what to do — So curious was I for to know Where sin did most abound, Where there was an excess of woe. To find which I went round and round. At length I to Triana came, Where men and sinners are the same; In wickedness of every kind They are by practice all combined. I cannot say what they do mean; In vice they 're fat, in virtue lean; And if they do not soon repent, They '11 be from God and mercy sent. Now, Mac, I would just let you know Religion there's in the back row; The meeting-house I found quite empty, Bat in the streets were people plenty. It was near on to twelve, I thought, When to the meeting-house I got, And I was sorely grieved to find No pulpit there, nor seats, nor stand. And 0, my brother! that's not all: They made the church a Mason's hall; And yet still more I hear about it: They say they'll make a school-house of it! And when you preach there, all will say They did not know that was the day ! They'll stay away without remorse. And flock in crowds to hear old Moss, 74 MADISON AND LIMESTONE CIRCUITS. So, brother, you must scold them well, And tell them they are going to hell! Tell them, "Indeed Triana town Need not on Methodism frown." Shall it be told in this our day, "Triana would not let you stay?" No; Satan's power, and theirs together, Cannot our Methodism fetter. But we will keep our heads well clear Of their strange blood, and we will bear Tidings of life and full salvation To such as want to get to heaven. He adds: "I wrote these lines to send in a letter to Brother James McFerrin, for the Trianians are very careless about religion." This is a boy's poem — perhaps the first onr young preacher ever wrote. The reader must allow a broad poetic license. This is fun — that is all — at the expense of Triana, where many good Christians have lived and do live. The Limestone Circuit was a four-weeks' appoint- ment. The following, as near as I can gather from the diary, were the names of the preaching-places: Nubbin Kidge, Jordan's, Beech Grove, Siloam, Mt. Sharon, Huley, Cambridge, Poplar Grove, Pettus's, Mt. Zion, Maysville, Mother McGehee's, Bethle- hem, Ilanley's, Athens, Dogwood Flat, Davidson's, Mooresville, Hebron, Hopewell, Triana, Cotton Port, Bethel, Malone's, English's, Collier's, Jack- son's, Beech Grove, and Hundley's. Here we have twenty-nine appointments to be tilled in four weeks, by preaching twice on Sunday. We turn over the pao^es of the diary, nothing of MADISON AND LIMESTONE CIRCUITS. 75 Special interest occurring until January 30, 1827. At this elate he received a letter from a boy-preacher on the Lawrence Circuit, which I will take the lib- erty to insert: "Morgan County, Alabama, Jan. 27, 1827. ''Rev. Sir: — Once more I embrace an opportunity of writing to you a few lines, merely as a compli- ment. I went to the office on my last round, and received a letter that you wrote. You told me that I might write when I had something good, w^hich seemed to insinuate that you were indifferent about it; but as we are told to 'render good for evil,' I determined to write when opportunity offers^that is, when I can get pen, ink, and paper plenty. "I have been round my circuit, and am pretty near round again. I can, indeed and in truth, say that this circuit is very much deranged. Our first quarterly -meeting is over, and Brother Davidson can tell you all about it. "I am very well in body, and enjoy some of the 'life and power of religion;' but how unfaithful I have been! Pray for me, that I may be more holy. "I have read, since I saw you, 'Paley's Philoso- phy,' ' Sullen's Arguments,' 'Ballar's Grammar of Nature,' 'Natural Philosophy,' the Gospels, the three first books of the Pentateuch, besides some sermons, some narratives, some newspapers, and some other little things. You may say that this is but little; but recollect the season has been cold. I hope to mend my ways. "Tvev. Sir, you will do well, I hope, and succeed 76 MADISON AND LIMESTONE CIRCUITS. wherever you go. I shall close by subscribing my- self your unworthy friend, J. B. McFerrin." Dr. McFerrin may well be proud of this letter, for it shows him an active student. Mr. Green certainly prized it very much, as he copied it into his diary. Other letters from friends on the Jackson Circuit are preserved, but are wanting in general interest; and, like a good-hearted, prosy professor dismissing his class before bell-tap, we extend a gr^icious release to the reader. Do you like letter-reading? If you do, I have some twenty dozen very pretty ones — Gay, sober, rapturous, solemn, very true. And very lying, stupid ones, and witty ones. 18. Letters, Sickness, and Camp-meetings. N^ old lady in Kentucky said that she liked to hear a certain preacher, because there was so much in his sermons that was not gospel. I was reproved myself by a little girl, who said that my sermon w^as not in the Bible. For reasons just the reverse, I am going to insert a letter, because it has in it so much of the spirit of the gospel, and is a word-picture of an old Chris- tian-perfection, class-meeting Methodist: "Bellefonte, Jail. 19, 1827. "Eev. a. L. p. Green — Dear Brother: — I write to inform you that I am in pretty good health, for which I thank the good Lord. I received your friendly letter some little time since, for Avhich I am thankful, and I hope you w^ill continue to write. My dear brother, I love you, and I hope you will have good times. In this part of the country times are dull; but I feel myself, let others do as they may, I will serve God, and, by his helping hand, make my way to heaven. We had a prayer-meet- ing in town last night, and the Lord was with us, and many appeared to be happy; and as for my own feelings, they were better than tongue can express, (77) 78 LETTERS, SICKNESS, AND CAMP-MEETINGS. for which I thank the good Lord. We have but one preacher, and he is a good one — old Father Davidson. I have had hard times since I saw you, and many things have disturbed my mind; but when troubles assail, I can turn to the Lord, who blesses my soul. We have three prayer-meetings in the week. I am glad that while some people turn out badly there are so many who do well. My dear brother, I want you to pray for me, that I may be enabled to overcome all my difficulties, and be instrumental in doing some good in this wicked town; and, my brother, if we should never meet in this world, I hope we shall meet in a better, for which I do pray in secret places. I remain your friend and brother, McRairy Harris." We select one other, of the same spirit: " Franklin County, Tennessee, January, 1827. " My Very Dear Brother Green: — With pleasure I embrace this opportunity of writing to you. My health is good, for which I am thankful to Almighty God. In regard to my religion I can say this much, that I feel bound for heaven, and I do thank the Lord for the desires I have to serve him. Reliction in this neighborhood is at a low ebb. May the Lord heal all our backslidings! Brother Davidson was well last night, for we staid together at Brother Alexander's. Brother Brown is o^one, and Brother Davidson is well received indeed on the circuit; and I am in hopes the Lord will revive this work this year. I have a request to make of you, and that is, you will pray for me. I assure you that I have LETTERS, SICKNESS, AND CAMP-MEETINGS. 79 not forgotten you. When you have not better employment write to me. May mercy, goodness, and prosperity attend you all the days of your life! Fraternally, Joshua Clarke." These letters are emphatically in the benediction style; there is about them a halo of the long ago. Like pressed flowers that drop from an old volume, they speak of an unknown love and a gentle hand. We have selected them only because they are heart- classics. They have the same platitudes that weary some original, smart people; and yet, if the angels were to go round searching old drawers and trunks for specimen letters to show" at the millennium, I would confidently hand them these after they had refused the letters of Greyson and Lord Chester- field. They have the odor of precious ointment. I throw many letters aw^ay because I know them not, and they know not me. I have letters, old and faded, that I love; they have been touched with the honey end of Jonathan's rod, and they have grafts from Aaron's rod of immortal buds, that will blos- som when principalities and powers have hasted away. These are the names of my father's friends; these are the men w^ho sharpened the lance that Achilles threw. We return to the diary: ^'Feh, 11, 1827. I attended an appointment in Triana, and met a large congregation. I preached a tolerably long sermon, and we had a profitable time; for the people Avept much, and among those who w^ept I observed a young man who Avas dressed 80 LETTERS, SICKNESS, AND CAMP-MEETINGS. like a dandy. When the meeting was over he came lip and toki me that he wanted me to pray for him every day until my return, when he expected to join the Church. "i^e6.»25. I encountered a terrific storm. I was among the hills of Elk River, and as I was traveling with my back on the cloud, was not apprised of its approach until nearly overtaken. The lightning- began to play, and the thunder burst, peal after peal, with such awful power that the hills appeared to tremble. I now^ began to think it was time to seek for shelter. The roaring of thunder and fall- ing of trees so alarmed my horse that it was with difficulty I could hold him. I concluded to let him go, and kept him reined to the road. I ran him about one-half of a mile, and came in sight of a house. A man standing in the door saw me com- ing, and threw open the gate; but he could scarcely hold my frightened horse till I dismounted. I thank God I sustained no injury. '-Feb. 27. I preached at Brother Hundley's, and we had a glorious time, indeed. Seven or eight persons came up for prayer, and the strength of the Christians was renewed. ''''March 11. I met a good congregation in Triana. The young man who promised to meet me four weeks before was present, and joined the Church; there was great solemnity. '''March 16. I rode twelve miles, and preached at Cambridge. Brother James McFerrin was present, and preached also. We held class -meeting. At night we held meeting at Brother George Malone's. LETTERS, SICKNESS, AND CAMP-MEETINGS. 81 A brother from Tennessee preached a very good sermon. I followed him in an exhortation, and called for penitents. Seven came forward, and four found God in the pardon of their sins. '^ March 19. I met a good congregation on Poplar Creek, and preached on the scripture, ' The wicked is driven away in his wickedness.' After the sermon fifteen or sixteen penitents came forward. I ap- pointed a meeting at night at Brother Yarbrongh's. We had a crowded house, and I preached ninety minutes. At the close of my discourse there was a general weeping and shouting all over the house. There was a large man standing in the door, whom I saw weeping and paying very close attention. At last he fell full-length on the floor, and cried for mercy. When I called for mourners between thirty and forty came forward. There was not a single person in the house who prayed in public. I labored with the mourners until exhausted. ^^March 20. I preached to a few at English's. At night w^e held a meeting at Brother Hogan's, near Cambridge, and Brother John B. McFerrin preached and I exhorted. We called for mourners; ^yq were converted. ''April 8. I attended a meeting at Triana; there was a large attendance. There I conducted the first class-meeting ever held in that place. ''April 13. Brothers James McFerrin and Booth Malone, and I, went to our quarterly - meeting. Brother Malone preached the first sermon, and Brother McFerrin exhorted. The sacrament of the Lord's Supper was administered on Sunday at 4* ■* 82 LETTERS, SICKNESS, AND CAMP-MEETINGS. ten o'clock. At eleven o'clock Brother McMahon preached, and there were many tears. In the after- noon I attempted to preach. We had some mourn- ers, and joined two into Society. '''June 21. I attended a camp-meeting, where about thirty persons embraced religion. '''July 5. Brother James McFerrin and I attended a camp-meeting at Ford's Chapel, and continued to its close. ''July 10. Brother McMahon and I rode to Mt. Air, in Tennessee, where Brother M. solemnized the rite of matrimony between a Mr. Coats and a Miss Die. The next day we rode to Huntsville, and spent the night with Brother Brandon, and on the next day attended another wedding. "July 13. I attended the camp -meeting at Bell Spring. "July 19. I preached in Athens, and rode to a camp-meeting at Round Island, where about twen- ty-five persons embraced religion. "July 25. I attempted to preach at Pettus's, but had to stop on account of sickness. Brother Malone happened in, and preached for me. "July 27. I rode to Huntsville, and got Brother Craig to fill my appointments for me. I remained in Huntsville upward of two weeks, to regain my strength. During my stay I preached five times in town and twice in the country. [Rest with a wit- ness !] "Aug. 22. I preached at Pettus's on the passage, *God so loved the world,' etc. This was the same text that I took here before, but was not able to LETTERS, SICKNESS, AND CAMP-MEETINGS. 83 finish; neither was I able to finish it this time, but concluded my remarks on the next round. ^'•Aug. 23. Brother Malone and I rode to a camp- meeting, and after the meeting broke Brothers James McFerrin and Joshua Boucher, and I, rode to an appointment at Brother Hundley's. Brother Boucher preached, and we had tolerable feeling times. '■^Sep. 5. I preached at Colyar's; we had several mourners. From there I rode to a camp-meeting near Tuscumbia, at which I preached three times. '•^Sep. 14. I met a small congregation at Cam- bridge, and preached a short sermon. The same day I went to see a sick child, and found it dying. At half-past eight it left the world. As there was no one to watch, I sat up with it. Without any sleep I had to ride eight miles, and was very feeble when I reached my appointment. Notwithstand- ing my weakness, I had to preach, as the local brother whom I had engaged failed to attend. In the afternoon I rode eight miles, and preached the funeral-sermon of a son of Elijah Hogan, which service closed near sunset. I then rode eight miles to my next appointment, that night, in Athens. ''Sep, 16. We had a large congregation in Athens. Brother Hundley preached, at eleven o'clock, a very warm and energetic sermon. At twelve (noon) I preached the funeral-sermon of a son of Brother Gamble, during which service there were many tears, and at the close I joined a number into Society. ''Sep. 20. Our camp-meeting at Cambridge com- menced, and twenty joined the Church. 84 LETTERS, SICKNESS, AND CAMP-MEETINGS. ''Sep. 27. I went to a camp-meeting on Madison Circuit, where about thirty persons embraced re- ligion. ''Oct. 2. Father Thompson and I rode to my mother's, in Jackson county, near Gunter's Land- ing. On the next night Brother Hunter, mother, and I, had a happy time. "Oct. 4. We rode to Bellefonte camp-meeting, at which we had good and great times. I preached four times. [This camp-ground was on the farm owned by the Rev. James McFerrin.] "Oct. 18. Our camp -meeting at Kubbin Ridge commenced, which was also the occasion of our District Conference. Thirty professed, and twenty joined the Church. '^Nov. 19. I preached to a small congregation at Father Moore's; and on this day we finished our year's labor, in which I preached two hundred and fifty times. Brother McFerrin and I received two hundred and thirty-five into the Church, and turned out twenty." To hallowed duty, Here with a loyal and heroic heart, Bind we our lives. 19. Seco:n^d Year on the Limestone Circuit. SUMPTUOUS dinner, while it has much that is alluring to a hungry man, has some features, apparent and latent, that detract: the excess, the tediousness, the hospitality administered with "a vengeance," the lassitude and headache that follow. That is a good aphorism for a dining, "Remember your head in the morning." But, after all, there is some repub- licanism even in a wholesale dinner. 'No man, what- ever his appetite or capacity, is required to sample every dish. It is pardonable, even at the tables of the most elite, for the humblest consumer to say, '^^N'o, I thank you." How much a restless man would enjoy the privilege of standing around be- tween the courses! But I intended this as the in- troduction to something entirely different, which is: If the reader is a non-religionist, and has grown weary of the Church-ring of the diary, he or she is not forced, by any law of humanity or politeness, to partake, only so far, and in kind, as suits his or her taste. We begin, as near as we can, where we left off: ''Nov. 21, 1827. Brothers James McFerrin, Bar- (85) 86 SECOND YEAR ON THE LIMESTONE CIRCUIT. ton Brown, T. M. King, A. F. Driskill, and S. Gilli- land, and I, started to our Annual Conference, in Tuscumbia, Alabama. ''Nov. 22, 1827. We reached Tuscumbia, and the Conference convened the next day, and held till !N^ovember 30. On account of a petition from the Limestone Circuit, I was returned, and Brother Joshua Boucher was appointed to travel with me." Bishop Soule presided at this Conference. Will- iam McMahon was returned to the Iluntsville Dis- trict as Presiding Elder. Joshua Boucher, the senior colleague of my father, though dead for many years, is still fresh in the Methodist memories of North Alabama. He is represented as an olf-hand stump- preacher of remarkable fluency and power. A few years before his death a friend — Dr. T. S. Malone — remarking his self-possession in the pulpit, observed, "Brother Boucher, I suppose you are never embar- rassed in preaching." He replied, "Old Boucher's knees always tremble when he ascends the pulpit." Dr. McFerrin, his intimate friend, says ("Method- ism in Tennessee") : " Joshua Butcher — more prop- erly, Boucher — was admitted on trial this year (1813). In the morning of life he was gay and full of pleas- ure. He w^as a fine musician, and performed on the violin to perfection. His society was coveted because of his high social qualities. His education was very deficient, but his mind sprightly, and his capacity for improvement great. He was licensed to preach in 1811. In 1845 he closed his labors, dying at Athens, Alabama, August 23." We have selected from the diary of this year SECOND YEAR ON THE LIMESTONE CIRCUIT. 87 only about two per cent, of the entries. We begin again: "jDec. 16, 1827. I preached two hours at Nubbin Iliclge to a large congregation, and there was con- siderable feeling. At four o'clock I preached to the blacks, and many of them came forward for prayer. ''Dec. 25, 1827. (Christmas-day.) I preached at Liberty, on Poplar Creek, and that evening went to the marriage of a Mr. David and Miss Jane D. Keys. "March 24, 1828. I preached at Jordan's. There were eight or ten mourners, and quite a stir in the congregation. "March 26, 1828. I preached to a good congre- gation at Hundley's. We had four mourners and good times. "April 2, 1828. I did not attend my appointment at Triana, as I had to meet with the delegates of the Conference to transact some important business. "April 12, 1828. I preached at Round Island, and from this time till August 7th I continued on my circuit, doing just the regular work. "Aug. 7, 1828. Our camp-meeting at Cambridge commenced. We had a good and great time. Sixty-three embraced religion, and fifty joined the Church. After this meeting I attended a camp- meeting held in Morgan county, at which fifty em- braced religion, and about the same number joined the Church. During these meetings I labored much, was exposed a great deal, and in consequence was taken sick — at first apparently with cold and a vio- lent cough and sore throat, which lasted for sev- eral days. At last I sufiered with nausea, and my 88 SECOND YEAR ON THE LIMESTONE CIRCUIT. eyes and skin became aftected. I was golden-yel- low all over. This is now the twelfth day, and I am still sick with yellow-jaundice, which is not very easy to get rid of. "I find that religion is our only trust in hours of affliction. Yes, what is all the world without God? It is a void, a blank, an unlettered scroll." They talk of short-lived pleasure — be it so — Pain dies as quickly; stern, hard-featured Pain Expires, and lets her weary prisoner go. The fiercest agonies have shortest reign. 20. The Madison — His Last Cikcuit. HE Tennessee Conference convened in Murfreesboro, December 4, 1828. Bishop Sonle presided. The class of fourteen which joined on trial in 1824 is reduced one-half. Seven of the ori£:inal class are elected and ordained elders : J. B. Summers, G. W. D. Harris, Thos. P. Davidson, Richard H. Hudson, A. L. P. Green, Samuel R. Davidson, and Michael Berry. Thomas Payne was ordained, but was a deacon when admitted in 1826. William McMahon is continued in the presiding eldership. A. L. P. Green, preacher in charge, and Greenville T. Hen- derson, junior preacher, are appointed to the Mad- ison Circuit, Huntsville District. This was my fa- ther's last circuit, and we infer, from the few and hastily-written entries in his diary, that it was a year of great labor. Indeed, as the years sped on and his capacity increased, his labors grew. All that he read and all that he did had reference to his preacher-work. I remarked once in his hearing that I was going to read a certain book. He said, "Do you think you can get any thing out of it that will be of service to you in preaching?" (89) 90 THE MADISON — HIS LAST CIRCUIT. The Rev. Greenville T. Henderson was admitted on trial into the Tennessee Conference in 1825. Dr. J. B. McFerrin was a member of his class. For a number of years Mr. Henderson was in the local ranks, and displayed a great deal of energy and spirit in his secular undertakings. He is now a live member of the Conference — goes up every year to receive his "patch," my father's name for an old man's appointment. He preaches with great power, and is especially formidable when pitted against an immersionist. However, he delights more in peace than in war — never invites a con- troversy or accepts a challenge, except when there is an urgent necessity. He contends for the faith — not for his own glory — but the good of the cause. My father always kept a warm place in his heart for G. T. Henderson. We copy only a few entries from the time-worn diary : '''Jan. 1, 1829. I reached my appointment at Mount Carmel. Brother Henderson was two weeks in advance of me on the circuit. I attended my appointments faithfully, but in some places found no congregations. The work was in a distracted condition, but we went on and did what we could until we met, which was at our first quarterly-meet- ing, held at Mount Pisgah, February 6, 7. This meeting was well attended. It was said that we had more people out on Saturday than for years before at that place. On Sunday Brother McMahon administered the sacrament, and Brother Hender- son preached. THE MADISON — HIS LAST CIRCUIT. 91 "i^e6. 15. I preached to a good congregation at Ford's Chapel. ''Feb. 16. I visited Mr. John Hancock, who had been sick for two years, and was without religion. I remained with him until he was converted.'' He furnishes a long account of the sickness and triumphant death of John Hancock — also, a sum- mary of the year's work. He states: ^'Brother Henderson and I had much peace this year. We had five camp -meetings in the work. We received into the Church about four hundred persons." Mr. Henderson, from recollections of this year's work, furnishes a story in substance as follows: There lived in the bounds of the Madison Circuit an eccentric man by the name of Oldham [not his real name], who made it his pleasure to try the preachers (particularly the young preachers), when they first came on the work, with curious scriptural questions which neither he nor any one else could answer. He was no skeptic, and professed to be- lieve in the literal King James's Version. His house was a favorite stopping-place of the itinerant. Hear- ing that a new preacher was on the circuit, Mr. Old- ham prepared his battery of questions. Mr. Green w^as informed in advance, and prepared his defense. He determined that, instead of answering, he would question " a fool according to his folly." On his first round he found it convenient to spend the night with Oldham. Quite a company of the neighbors had gathered in to make welcome the new preacher. It was an opportunity that must be improved, thought Oldham — it was expected of him. After 92 THE MADISON — HIS LAST CIRCUIT. supper 0. made some moves as though he were going to begin the examination. G., anticipating him, said, in a slow, measured voice, "Brother Old- ham, do you believe the Scriptures?" "Certainly," said 0.; "why do you ask such a question?" "Be- cause," answered G., " I was not satisfied that you believed all the Scriptures — do you believe that story about Samson and the foxes?" "I do," an- swered O., with some emphasis. "Do you really," said G., "believe that Samson caught two hundred foxes and turned them tail to tail with fire-brands between, and turned them loose among the stand- ing corn, vineyards, and olives of the Philistines?" "Yes, I believe that," said Oldham. "Just as I ex- pected," said G. "The Bible says Samson caught three hundred foxes; you believe he caught only two hundred ! " Oldham never recovered from the shock. He was disgraced in the presence of his neighbors by a trick-question after the pattern of many that he had propounded himself. Whatever his attitude may have been toward others, he never approached G. with a hard question; and it is said that they remained the best and most intimate friends. Walk Boldly and wisely in that light thou hast; There is a hand above will help thee on. 21. J^ASHViLLE Station — Gaerett and Gwin. |E read the diary, which can hardly now be called a diary: "I attended a session of the Tennessee Conference at Hunts- ville, Ala., Il^ovember 19, 1829. Bishop Roberts presided. We had but little excitement in religious matters at this Conference. I was ap- pointed with the Rev. James Gwm to the I^ashville Station, and in a short time came to my work. I arrived in I^ashville some time in November, and found the Church in quite a good state. Brother Gwin and I, during the year, added two wings to the station — one west of the city, and the other east. At the western appointment we established a camp- meeting, which was much blessed of God. During this year we added iive hundred members to the Church." Dr. McFerrin says ("Methodism in Tennessee," vol. iii., p. 85) : " Mr. Green was then a young man just entering upon the sixth year of his ministry. He had traveled five years in the Iluntsville Dis- trict, and was now stationed in a city for the first time. "Preaching was established, and a church organ- (93) 94 NASHVILLE STATION — GARRETT AND GWIN. ized, ill a sniall log-cabin on Front street. Besides '^ew Hope,' a small frame house, two and a half miles from Nashville, on the Gallatin road, was a preaching-place. Another appointment, added to the station about this time, was the Kashville Camp- ground, some five miles west of the city, and near the Charlotte road, in what is known as 'Robert- son's Bend.' Another still w^as the African Church, situated not far from the Sulphur Spring: here there was erected, for the colored people, a commodious brick house, that was thronged with anxious hear- ers from Sabbath to Sabbath. "The reader will see that this w^as work enough for two men, yet with the aid of local preachers the field was well cultivated, and a rich harvest was gathered into the garner of the Lord from among both the w^hite and colored people." The Rev. Lewis Garrett was Presiding Elder of the j^ashville District at this date. He was a thin, spare-made, silver-haired old man, and, tradition says, very fond of an argument about any thing in politics, literature, or religion. He is justly claimed by both Kentucky and Tennessee Methodism. Ken- tucky has a prior claim, as it was his adopted home for many years. As a Kentucky preacher, an elab- orate notice has been furnished by Dr. McFerrin in the pages of Dr. Redford's " Methodism in Kentucky." As a Tennessee preacher, a very ex- tended and exhaustive notice covers many pages of the first volume of " Methodism in Tennessee." As it has been a part of my plan to furnish only a running glimpse of my fatlier's ofiicial co-labor- NASHVILLE STATION — GARRETT AND GWIN. 95 ers, a short paragraph must suffice even in this case: "Mr. Garrett was born April 24, 1772, in Penn- s^'lvania, and died at the home of his son, M. Gar- rett, Esq., near Vernon, Mississippi, April 28, 1857, in the eighty-sixth year of his age. He joined the Western Conference in 1794. As a preacher his manner was very deliberate, and his sermons at times overpowering. In connection with the Rev. Jolxji iT. Maffitt he commenced in Kashville the publication of the Western Methodist, a popular weekly sheet, advocating the claims of the Meth- odist Episcopal Church. From ill-health and other causes he was local for a number of years, but at the time of his death was a member of the Missis- sippi Conference." (" Methodism in Tennessee.") Here were two of the most renowned men of the West, and both of them almost superannuated, thrown tos^ether in the same field of labor — Lewis Garrett and James Gwin. Indeed, the little city of Nashville, in 1830, was the stamping-ground of the giants. James Gwin, among the giants, was truly dignus honore — the Marshal ISTey of Methodist cavaliers. His sword was better tempered than any of Damas- cus, for it was the sword of the Spirit, which is the w^ord of God. Grand old captain! in the name of his Master he "rode like a leader in the land." Mr. Gwin was an Indian-fighter before he became a preacher. He joined the Western Conference in 1803, and died a member of the Mississippi Confer- ence, August 8, 1841. 96 NASHVILLE STATION — GARRETT AND GWIN. We subjoin a very interesting notice of James Gwin by Bishop Paine: "At the Tennessee Conference held in Huntsville, Ala., November 19, 1829, A. L. P. Green was ap- pointed to Nashville Station, with James Gwin in charge. Mr. Gwin was an old man, large and ven- erable in appearance. Having been conspicuous in the great revival of 1800-1804, he was a great favorite among all classes of people. General Jack- son knew him, and greatly revered him — so much so that he made him a kind of head-chaplain to his army in the war he waged in 1815 with the British at New Orleans. His ardent patriotism, and the faithful performance of his duties as chaplain, had added much to his popularity. Nor was he less popular as a preacher than as a citizen. His per- son was commanding, his manners graceful, his voice exceedingly musical, and his preaching pa- thetic. He was a great singer, and thousands were melted into tears and penitence under his sacred songs. Such was the colleague of young Green on his first introduction to a Nashville auditory. Of course the young man was expected to do the greater part of the pastoral work — visiting the members, attending night-meetings, holding prayer and class- meetings — all of which he cheerfully did; but he had also to preach regularly to a large and intelligent audience, and studied hard to fit himself for it. " He presently observed that his honored colleague was more given to reading newspapers than books, and ventured to ask him how it was that he could preach so often and so well without reading books NASHVILLE STATION — GARRETT AND GWIN. 97 and studying. The old gentleman then held in his hand the last issue of his favorite paper. Pausing awhile, and looking the young preacher full in the face, he replied: 'Who makes all the books? and where do they come from?' The reply was: 'Men make them ; they come from their heads, I suppose.' 'Well, then,' was the rejoinder, 'I am a man, and have the books in my head.' The young man was blufied, but not convinced, and continued to read and study. It need not be added that the young- preacher, by his piety, fidelity to duty, and steady improvement, became very popular as a minister and a man, and retained the respect and love of the Church and community till his death." If not to some peculiar end assigned, Study's the specious trifling of the mind; Or is at best a secondary aim — A chase for sport alone, and not for game. 33. iS'ASHviLLE Station — Bishop McKendree. N the third volume of the "History of Methodism in Tennessee" we have a full and thrilling account of the rise and prog- ress of Methodism in Nashville. We are informed that when Mr. Green arrived in Nashville, in 1829, the Church was well manned by such men as Joseph T. Elliston, the Rev. Matthew H. Quinn, John and Thomas Price, Richard Garrett, Joseph Litton, Harry Hill, Anthony W . Johnson, William Moore, Nicholas Hobson, and S. P. Anient, on the south side of the Cumberland; and on the north side the Weakleys, Vaughns, and Hoopers. Besides, there were, on College Side, the Parishes, Mrs. Groomes, and Mother Hughes. We might also make honorable mention of the Mannings, the Bibbs, the Hobbses, and others, many of whose de- scendants are still with us; but we are not w^riting the history of Methodism, and must forbear. The principal preaching-places were on Church street and College Side, which appointments the two pastors filled on Sunday alternately. The building on Church street was "a little east of the present buildins^s of the American office, about half (98) NASHVILLE STATION — BISHOP m'kENDREE. 99 way between College and Cherry streets, on the north side. It was a comfortable house of high pitch, and had galleries on both sides and at one end. It was so constructed as to make all the space available; consequently, though the audience-room was small, it accommodated a large number of peo- ple. This was the principal Methodist church in the city till 1833." ("Methodism in Tennessee.") William Moore, who is at present a member of West End Church, was a class-leader in 1830. When he failed to attend, his mother conducted the class. Mr. Moore states that Mother Hughes occu- pied the famous cedar house in South Nashville, called "College Side." He relates that "on cyie occasiou, while Mr. Gwin was preaching in this house, a man came in with a hatchet, w^ent into the adjoining room, and commenced striking the door. Gwin only raised his voice; the man beat louder; Gwin only preached louder, but made no allusion to the disturbance. At last the man grew weary, or ashamed, and stopped. There was never any more disturbance at that place." We read in the "Life and Times of Bishop Mc- Kendree," by Bishop Paine, that "during the win- ter of 1829 and 1830, Bishop McKendree passed the greater part of his time in ^N^ashville and its imme- diate vicinity. The residences of H. R. W. Hill and J. T. Elliston — where he had homes, and every comfort and kindness which, in his debility and sickness, he could need — were his principal places of- staying." William Moore relates that "in the autumn or winter of 1829 Bishop McKen- 100 NASHVILLE STATION — BISHOP m'kENDREE. dree came to Nashville, and stopped with Harry Hill. The Bishop had no acquaintance with the young pastor, and sent his host, with William Moore, to bring the preacher into his presence. The conversation was laconic and novel. After the salutation, the Bishop said: 'I sent a young man to Hopkinsville; the people were slow in making his acquaintance; he went around the town and bor- rowed tools; he made little things, and introduced himself thus. He did a good work. Go and do thou likewise.' The young preacher retired from the presence of the Bishop; but it was not neces- sary that he should follow all these instructions to gain favor with the people.'' I am not inclined to think that my father and Bishop McKendree fell in love at first sight, but an intimacy sprang up between them and ripened into the tenderest regard. My impressions of Bishop McKendree do not favor the conclusion that their friendship was the result of any natural affinity, for their dispositions were in contrast. They stood thus toward each other: the Bishop admired the calm exterior, the practical sense, and happy humor of the young preacher, which was reciprocated by reverence and esteem for the Bishop's strong mind, great history, and devotion to the Church. On several occasions my father was chosen by the Bishop as his traveling companion, because of his feeble health; for he needed constant attention. Bishop Paine says: ''To contribute what he could to assist his col- leagues, Bishop McKendree resolved to visit the NASHVILLE STATION — BISHOP m'kENDREE. 101 Societies, and to attend as many Conferences as his health would allow. "In conformity with this purpose, he resolved to go South during the winter, and embarked on a steam-boat at x^ashville. "Upon this trip to New Orleans he had the com.- pany of A. L. P. Green, then associated with James Gwin, in the Nashville Station. The well-known genial temper and social qualities of Brother Green rendered him always a most desirahle companion to the Bishop. He had a high esteem and reveren- tial affection for Bishop McKendree, and,* to the close of the good man's hfe, was his attentive, tender, and trusted friend. It was on this trip to 'New Or- leans that the incidents occurred which are narrated in Dr. Green's admirable sketch of the Bishop, in the ^Biographical Sketches of Itinerant Ministers,' ed- ited by Dr. Summers, in 1858." (" Life and Times of Bishop McKendree.") Without good company, all dainties Lose their true relish, and, like painted grapes, Are only seen, not tasted. 23. The Second Year m Nashville. HE eisrhteenth session of the Tennessee Annual Conference was held at Franklin, beginning l!Tovember 3, 1830. There be- ing no Bishop present, Lewis Garrett, sr., was elected President. So popular had A. L. P. Green become with his congregation, and the Xashville community, that the Presiding Elder was instructed, and Joseph Lit- ton, Joseph T. EUiston, and William H. Moore, were sent to the seat of the Conference, to solicit his return. He makes no allusion to this compli- ment in his Journal. The brief entry is: ''At the close of this year (1830) we attended our Annual Conference, held at Franklin, when John M. Hol- land and I were appointed to the ^NTashville Station." Mr. Garrett was returned to the District, and Mr. Gwin, on account of feeble health, sustained a su- pernumerary relation. Dr. McFerrin says ("Methodism in Tennessee," vol. iii.) : '' Mr. Holland was then in his full strength, and he with Messrs. Green and Gwin made a strong force. Few men combined so many elements nec- essary to constitute an able preacher as did Mr. (102) THE SECOND YEAR IN NASHVILLE. 103 Holland. His person was attractive; his manner in the pulpit was easy and graceful — no affectation, no attempt at display; his style Avas chaste, and his words well chosen; his sermons were well matured, and delivered with earnestness and power; and they seldom failed to produce conviction in the minds of his hearers. ''In the autumn of 1822, when about nineteen or twenty years of age, he was admitted into the trav- eling connection on trial. For twenty years he was a fervent, devoted minister of Christ, preaching the gospel within the bounds of the Tennessee, Missis- sippi, and Memphis Conferences. During the latter part of the summer of 1841, while on a remote por- tion of the Memphis District, he fell sick, and was conveyed to the town of Bolivar, where, on the 13th of August, he resigned his spirit into the hands of God." We read in the Journal, which we will not call a "diary" anymore: "The next year opened with rather prosperous appearances, and during the whole time we had much peace, and the work of God pros- pered, and many were added to the Church. We lost much by removals, but still had a net increase. During this year I preached on about one hundred and fifty new subjects, and was kept pretty busy." Here is an item that w^e w^ere not looking for — " one hundred and fifty new subjects in one year." He does not state how many times he preached. No doubt his supply of sermons was exhausted the first year; now he is fully out at sea, but not with- out a compass or a rudder; his energy, faith, and 104 THE SECOND YEAR IN NASHVILLE. experience have grown. But one hundred and fifty subjects upon which he had never discoursed, for he calls them "new," and all in one year, was certainly an accomplishment; it would be a wonder even in these days of plethoric variety, j^o doubt it was then as it is now — the same sermon-gormand was in the pew. An old man might, with some damage to his reputation, repeat a discourse to the same congregation; but if a young man did it, dared to do it, even if it w^ere a lapsus mensis, his fair fame sufi:ered a lesion never to be healed in that commu- nity. Would it not be well to write in red ink upon the margin of the parchment, "Eemember vividly, young man, the time, and the place, and the subject!" Those one hundred and fifty new sermons were a necessity just as imperative as the making of bricks in Egypt, and he patiently went to work and made them. Yerily, a crocodile, after gulping down a fat pig, does not more quietly close his eyes, and throw up his jaw, ready for another, than some of our kind-hearted laymen, who, having devoured a flaming sermon on a hot July morning, return in the evening and calmly and placidly look up for another. All that we have to say is, Let them have it; if they can stand it, we can. But, waiving the facetious, we do really believe that some people have too much preaching, and others not enough; and yet, to insure an audience for all, we must over- dose the few. We pass on without making any change in the present plan. I must relate an incident that occurred during my father's pastorate in N^ashville. THE SECOND YEAR IN NASHVILLE. 105 Jett and Black were members of the l^ashville Station. They were thrifty, reputable merchants, keeping stores on the haberdasher plan. They were intimate friends, though exactly opposites in disposition. Jett was of fair complexion, nervous, quick; while Black w^as a dark-skinned, bilious, slow man. They were both morbidly devoted to auctions. On one occasion after supper, Jett stopped by and asked his friend to accompany him to an auction. Of course Black went. A box of shoes were put up for sale. Jett bid; then Black; then Jett; then Black; and they were knocked down to Black. Jett went immediately home; Black re- mained till after the sale. What was his astonish- ment, on examining his purchase, to find that there was not a single pair of shoes in the box; all of them were odd ! He asked the auctioneer, " Who placed these shoes here?" and received the reply, "Your friend Mr. Jett." Black said not a word; paid for his purchase; had the box nailed up and stored away in an upper room of the auction-store, where it remained for ten or twelve months. In the meantime Jett had forgotten the circumstance; Black had kept his own counsels. The same box of shoes was put up for sale; Jett and Black were present. Jett was very much taken with the shoes; asked Black not to bid against him. Jett bid; then Black; then Jett; and they were knocked down to Jett. Black went home immediately; Jett, very much elated with his purchase, remained. Even after examining the shoes, he did not recognize them; asked who placed them there; and when 5^^ 106 THE SECOND YEAR IN NASHVILLE. told that Black did it, expressed his opinion very freely about Black. The next day Jett called on his pastor with a complaint against Black, and con- cluded by saying that he would not live in the Church with such a man ; that Black must be turned out, or he would go out. My father called on Black, who gave him a full statement of the whole affair from the beginning; he then called on Jett, who, after hearing the version of Black, said, "Well, Brother Green, if the Lord will give me grace, I will forgive him." The man who dares to dress misdeeds, Or colors them with virtue's name, deserves A double punishment from gods and men. 24. His Makriage and His Homes. HAVE known a few men and women of the proper age whom I would not advise to marry — persons who employ their en- ergies in making others miserable. Self- ish people, drunkards, whining women, and persons of ungodly tempers, can negatively bless their race Ijy remaining single. What everybody says every- body is apt to repeat; c. //., it is a common saying that "marriage is a lottery," which, in the main, is far from being true. There may be, in some cases, a blind, heedless indifference upon the part of lovers as to the true character of each other; but where there is a will to know, the knowledge is at- tainable. Women — particularly young women — are good judges of men; they see the wise, the foolish, the noble, and the mean, in a man almost at a glance. There may be exceptions; but I am con- vinced that very few women marry madmen or drunkards because they have not sufficient warn- ing. The surprise after marriage is not that the beast has horns, but that neither love nor forbear- ance can extract his horns. Wc will turn round and repeat about men what we have said of women. (in7) 108 HIS MARRIAGE AND HIS HOMES. The heathens represent Cupid, the god of love, as blind; the heathens were good at blunders, and this is one of them. People who are in love see remark- ably. I have known a boy -lover, through the merest crack of a church-door, to mirror a large congregation from one eye. The truth is, love knows more than it speaks. It is a poor palliative, "I was deceived," which we admit Avith some qual- ification. Occasionally we are arrested by a mari- tal paradox; e. g., a wise man marries foolishly, and a foolish man marries wisely. There is no decep- tion here; the wise man was attracted by physical charms, the foolish man by the graces of heart and intellect, ^ow, we approach what I have been drivino- at. A Methodist itinerant should be well married. His wife, because of his absence, must be the autocrat in the family; she is a woman in power, and should know how to wiekl it. Is'ot con- fining ourselves to Methodist ministers, we believe that the wives of preachers, taking them as a body, are the most perfect, patient, and competent of women. Now, be charitable enough to withhold your prejudgment, and instance the cases. I will abide the conclusion. I have never been very en- thusiastic about the mode of baptism, but I will defend preachers' wives and preachers' sons against the attacks of any man, provided he is sane and respectable. I believe the world and the devil have brought no "railing accusation" against preachers' daughters. This marriage-homily was suggested by a laconic entry in my father's Journal, which reads: ''During HIS MARRIAGE AND HIS HOMES. 109 this year (1831) I married a wife." Tliis language is both profane and sacred. lie is brief, for the rea- son that he did not know what to sa}^ that he could say, about himself. He was married, October 19, 1831, by the Ilev. John M. Holland, to Miss Marv Ann Elliston, a girl in her fifteenth year. I might relate some interesting incidents connected with this marriage; but my mother has placed an embargo on my pen. What am I to do? Who would read a biography by a disobedient son? " The ravens of the valley would tear it up, and the young eagles would eat it." Miss Mary Ann was young, but a mature, sensible woman. She was a graduate of the old l!^ashville Female Academy, during the ad- ministration of the Rev. William Hume. She was the only daughter of a widow (Mrs. Ann T. Ellis- ton) who had seen a great deal of trouble. The sorrows of her mother gave her a practical knowl- edge of the dark side of human experience. She was a good wife and mother, and she was a Chris- tian from a child. I will take the liberty of relating the following incident, which may be of interest to some romantic reader: The young pastor was making his home for a few months at Mr. Gwin's. At the same time Mrs. Mullen, the aunt of Miss Elliston, was boarding there. The niece very naturally called around to see her aunt, who was anxious to hear the young lady perform on the piano. Mr. Gwin owned no instrument, but there was one in the next house, to which the whole party, the preacher among the 110 HIS MARRIAGE AND HIS HOMES. rest, repaired, and Miss Mary Ann played and sang "I won't be a nun." This was what the poets em- phasize — " the first meeting." I might mention, if my mother wonkl allow, a number of entertainments in honor of this mar- riage, got up in the old style, without stint as to quantity or expense, at Col. Anthony Johnson's, Col. Turner's, Joseph T. EUiston's, H. k. W. Hill's, James R. McCombs's, and other places; but a refer- ence to these things may not comport with the dig- nity of a preacher's biography. Dr. E. A. Young says: "He (Mr. Green) married a lady who always appreciated his talents and voca- tion — just such a wife as every preacher of the gos- pel should have. His friends were her friends." I cannot close this paper without making mention of a few, at least, of those happy homes that my father found in !N"ashville during his first two years' pastorate. Being a young man, he "staid around." He spent most of his time with the hospitable fam- ily of James Gwin ; but he found comfortable homes at Anthony Johnson's, William Moore's, Enoch Wellborne's, and James McCombs's. I have some pleasant recollections of that great-hearted, Chris- tian woman, Mrs. McCombs. She died when I was a child, but I still retain every feature of her face. I remember what a joy it was just to go on an er- rand to her house. She exerted herself to make a neighbor's child happy. The reader might laugh contemptuously if I w^ere to tell of the many little pleasant things she did. Xo matter — I have them all locked up in the " round tower of my heart," HIS MARRIAGE AND HIS HOMES. Ill where the spoiler cannot come; and it will be I who, in the presence of the Father and the holy angels, will add them to her crown of rejoicing at that day. She made a friend, and the friend was a child — that is all. Q5. Feanklin Station — Medicine and Genekal confekence. |HE twentieth session of the Tennessee Conference was held in Paris, beginning Thursday, I^ovember 10, 1831. Bishop Roberts was present and presided. This was the first session of an Annual Conference held in that part of the State west of the Tennessee River. The Conference was in session nine days, including the Sabbath." ("Methodism in Tennes- see.") The Journal is not exhausted. We open and read: "At the Conference held in Paris I received my appointment to the Franklin Station. About two weeks after Conference I w^as in my pulpit. My plan at present for filling this w^ork is to attend on Sundays, and stay with my family in ISTashville during the week, which I think best, though it is somewhat disagreeable, for the winter is, and has been, very cold; but this can be endured when we have prospects of doing good, though religion is at a low ebb." It must not be regarded as a reflection on the itinerant system w^hen we affirm that A. L. P. Green, (112) MEDICINE AND GENERAL CONFERENCE. 113 by not removing his family, was enabled to accom- plish more good for the Church. In forty-three years of itinerating, as a married man, he never changed his residence, and hence, which may seem paradoxical, was enabled to give more of his time to the ministr3^ While this may encourage those who cannot move, it should not discourage those w^ho can and do move. The family of A. L. P. Green was not itinerant; he was, in the most com- prehensive sense, for he was tw^o-thirds of his time away from home. We now copy from the Journal w^hat may seem an erratic notion. However, the end was good, and "all's well that ends well." He says: "For the last five years I have had it in contemplation to study medicine, but have again and again been dis- suaded from it by my friends. I have at length de- termined to pursue the study, and, therefore, under the direction of Dr. John Waters, have set in for a regular course of reading. How I will succeed time must determine, but such is the state of feeling with me that I can make it a subject of prayer, and with a good conscience go into the practice after I shall have mastered the science. My design is good." I shall not attempt to explain until he has fully deliv- ered himself on the subject of physic. He writes : "For the first three months I attended my appoint- ments in Franklin regularly, though the Aveather was extremely cold, and the roads very bad. But few persons seemed inclined to attend the Church, but I felt bound to meet with them. "Our first quarterly-meeting was not attended 114 FRANKLIN STATION. with any extraordinary work of conviction or con- version, but no doubt good was done. The weather Avas unusually cold, and the Elder, Brother Lewis Garrett, did not attend. I had to hold the meeting without a preacher or even an exhorter, but the Lord was with us, and during the sacrament on Sunday one soul was happily converted. "'Oct. 5, 1832. As I had at the previous Annual Conference been elected a delegate to the General Conference, I and my companions set out for Philadelphia — the seat of the Conference — April 2, 1832. We were gone three months. On my return I found my work in Franklin just as I had left it. One of the preachers on the I^ashville Circuit — the Rev. Greenbury Garrett — had been so kind as to take my appointment under his charge, and had preached a number of times. I resumed my work, and, after a month or so, some religious in- terest became apparent; a number Avere added to the Church. We at length agitated the propriety of getting up a camp-meeting for the station, and the idea seemed to take finely. Ten or eleven fine tents were soon built. The last week in August we held our camp-meeting; forty -five souls were hap- pily converted, and as many added to the Church. Since that time a continuous religious excitement has been kept up, and I hope that many are now serious who will eventually be brought to God. Our last quarterly-meeting will be held on the thirteenth and fourteenth of this month, at the close of which I shall leave them. The Church will have- when I leave one-third more members MEDICINE AND GENERAL CONFERENCE. 115 than when I came. What will be done with me another year I know not. "In my medical studies I am still slowly pro- gressing, and, if I meet with no hinderance, shall go through with it. "My mind, in a spiritual point of view, has been clear and composed; and I feel at present as fully bound to be a Christian minister as I ever did. Lord, help me to hold out faithful in all that's good, and to avoid all that's evil!" Physicians mend or end us, Secundum artem ; but although we sneer In health, when sick, we call them to attend us, Without the least propensity to jeer. 26. Review of the Last Chaptek — IN'ashville StATIOjS^. |E have copied the last entry from the old Journal — we have solemnl}^ laid it away to rest; and now, before we pass on, will take a hurried glimpse of the last paper. The pastorate of Mr. Green in Franklin was made very pleasant by the presence and association of such sterling men and Methodists as Messrs. Johnson, Eelbeck, Park, and Ewing. The latter — Alexander Ewing — joined the Church at the camp-meeting; he was one of the campers, and brother of a life-long and devoted friend of my father — the late William B. Ewing, of Nashville vicinity. That my father ever had the remotest idea of abandoning the calling of a minister, to engage in the practice of medicine, I cannot believe for a mo- ment; he had in view what he thought would be a valuable adjunct. A knowledge of medicine is an essential in the education of a missionary to foreign lands — why not an essential in the education of all ministers? Mr. Wesley placed a high estimate on his medical knowledge. I^o doubt our young itin- erant, in the sparsely-settled regions of ITorth Ala- (116) NASHVILLE STATION. 117 bama, had frequent use for medical knowledge. Called suddenly to the bedside of one taken with some acute distemper — a regular practitioner not to be reached in four or five miles — a knowledge of some simple palliatives might be put to charitable use without invading the rights of the profession. Indeed, a minister can bring into valuable requisi- tion in preaching a knowledge of human anatomy and pathology, in an endless chain of strong, natu- ral illustrations. Theology, in its broad sense, is a curriculmii of the sciences. 0th ei' men are confined to certain branches, and move in certain circles, but the theologian is the heir to all the possessions of his Father, which is the universal empire of mind and matter. A university, in the outfit of a minis- ter, must furnish him with all that it has, and then he is poorly prepared if he has no more. A. L. P. Green was a fine judge of disease. His diagnosis was regarded by his intimate friends as almost final. Whether this was genius or acquired by the study of medicine we know not; but we may venture that his study and knowledge of medicine served him many a valuable purpose. We can dis- cover no harm that came out of his physic. We have but one denmrrer to advance: he speaks of "going into the practice," but evidenHy with no intention of ceasing to travel. This was just a mis- take, that became patent in a short time; for the Scriptures taught him that he could not " serve two masters." I never heard my father speak of his medical studies. I remember there was in his library one medical book — a work on anatomy, by some old 118 REVIEW OF THE LAST CHAPTER. author, perhaps Bell. There were some other more professional remains. My brother and I, as boys will do, went a rummaging one day. We grabbled out from the dark corner of an old closet two human leg -bones and a skull. Boys are practical. We could make no use of the leg-bones, but the skull, which was nicely macerated, served as a holder for bullets, corks, and fishing-hooks. In a few months the skull was spirited away. We did not believe that the original owner had come for it; but we had strong suspicions»»of our grandmother, who ques- tioned the propriety of using so sacred a casket in such a Avay. Mr. Green was elected a delegate to the General Conference that met in Philadelphia in 1832. He was at this time nearly twenty-six years old. He states that ''three months were consumed in the trip." It was a tedious journey, by steam-boat and stage. While in Philadelphia he was hospitably entertained by James McClintock, M.D., brother of the renowned encyclopedist. « At the Annual Conference held in iTashville Oc- tober 31, 1832, A. L. P. Green was appointed to the Nashville Station, with Pleasant B. Robinson junior preacher. This appointment is called in the Min- utes "Nashville City." William McMahon is Pre- siding Elder. " Bishop Andrew was present at this Conference, and presided. He was ordained Bishop this year, and this was his first Conference as a pre- siding ofiicer." ("Methodism in Tennessee.") The Rev. Pleasant B. Robinson, M.D., the col- leao^ue of A. L. P. Green on the Nashville Station, NASHVILLE STATION. 119 "entered the traveling- connection in the Tennessee Conference in 1827. His preaching was distin- guished by good sense, a rich flow of thought, fer- vent zeal, deep piety, and pure pathos. His success as a preacher was very extensive. He was ahvays acceptable, popular, and useful, wherever he labored. In the altar he had few superiors, and his willing mind entered largely and successfully into this de- partment of the work. His last illness and death were caused by exposure and overwork during a revival in West Huntsville, where he w^as stationed at the time." (Official Record.) He died at his post, October 2, 1861. The two churches of the IN^ashville Station were filled, as before, alternately by the two preachers. The Nashville camp-meeting was a good feeder for the station; also, New Hope, on the east side of the Cumberland, about a mile and one-half out, had be- come an appointment of some prominence. A young man of twenty-six, who had filled the Nashville Station two years — the limit of the pas- torate — and then returned at the end of one year — this was a matter of congratulation, and by no means an ordinary ministerial experience in those days. We quote from "Methodism in Tennessee," vol. iii.: "In the autumn of 1831 Lorenzo D. Overall and John B. McFerrin were appointed to the Nash- ville Station. Many of the most substantial citizens were brought into the Church. The year following Alexander L. P. Green and Pleasant B. Robinson were appointed to the station, and James Gwin to 120 REVIEW OF THE LAST CHAPTER. the African Mission, in ^N^ashville and vicinity. The glorious work went on, and abundant success crowned the labors of His servants; seven hundred and eighty white members were returned, and eight hundred and ten colored. Mr. Robinson, the co- laborer of Mr. Green, was an indefatigable worker, and was a true yoke-fellow of his colleague. ''In the autumn of 1832 a new church-edifice was projected, while Messrs. Overall and McFerrin were in the station. During the next year the building was completed, under the pastoral supervision of Messrs. Green and Robinson. It was determined to call the church McKendree, in honor of Bishop McKendree, which name it bears till this day; and from its pulpit the Bishop delivered his last public discourse. ■ "About the time the McKendree Church was opened the Kev. John JN^ewland Maffitt visited Kash- ville, and preached a series of revival-sermons; the result was many were added to the Church." And now, the generation that built McKendree and the great men who first preached there are nearly all gathered to their fathers. The old church, like an old man, totters when her metal voice, upon the Sabbath-day, calls her children and her chil- dren's children to prayer. The history of an empire may be written — not the history of old McKendree. Who can repeat the sermons of wondrous power? who has noted the shining faces and happy hearts? who has numbered the tears shed there in forty-four years? But McKendree has served her day; she has buried her dead, and now the living will bury NASHVILLE STATION. 121 her. Under the administration of the present pas- tor, Dr. D. C. Kelley, a new building, elegant and beautiful, has been projected and is in process of erection. Piety first laid A strong foundation, but she wanted aid ; To wealth unwieldy was her prayer addressed, Who largely gave. 27. Cumberland District — Bishop McKendree. |HE twenty-second session of the Tennes- see Conference was held in Pulaski, be- ginning November 6, 1833. Bishop Mc- Kendree was present, but so feeble in body that he had to call Thomas L. Douglass to assist him in the duties of the chair. A. L. P. Green was appointed, by this Conference, to the Cumberland District, which work he filled four years in succession. During the session of this Conference the memorable meteoric shower occurred, about which many amusing stories are told. We have a graphic account of it in the " Life and Times of Bishop McKendree." It was required in those days that a Presiding Elder should be more than a medium man. The office was large, and the man must correspond to the office. 'No refuse or worn-out man was selected ; he must be social, able-bodied, religious, a good judge of men, and a good preacher. His coming ■was an occasion. A quarterly-meeting was looked for and prepared for. The Elder was a great man, preached great sermons, was treated with much def- erence, ruled over a large territory. (12-0 CUMBERLAND DISTRICT — BISHOP m'kENDREE. 123 A. L. P. Green was in all points " thoroughly fur- nished" unto the work of a Presiding Elder. He was a good preacher, religious, prudent, healthy, and social; he knew men, and could adapt himself to all classes. Another qualification (which may be placed on the extra list) he possessed to an eminent deo:ree: his knowledo^e of wood-craft was remarka- ble. This was more a requisite then than now. He w^as never lost, and yet he frequently inquired the way of negroes, just to amuse himself with their ridiculous directions. The Cumberland was an immense District, em- bracing the circuits and stations in Wilson and Sumner counties, and extending to Dover, below Clarksville. Over new and almost impassable roads he had to ride hundreds of miles, being absent from home six to eight weeks at a time. He makes favor- able mention of his horse Pilgrim, who carried him many a mile during these four years of itinerating. Poor Pilo^rim died in the work. We know but little as to the details of his ministerial labors on the Cumberland District. Referring to a revival-notice of A. L. P. Green, the Rev. Thomas Stringfield, editor of the South-western Christian Advocate^ says: " Look at the following as a sample of writing a great many good things in a few words: 'Galla- tin, August 24, 1837. — Brother Stringfield: We have glorious times at our Cairo camp-meeting; one hundred and sixty-nine converts, and large additions to the Church; the work is still going on, I never saw such a display of divine power before. Our Douglass camp-meeting will commence this evening, 124 CUxMBERLAND DISTRICT — BISHOP M KENDREE. and we expect much there also. We have very few preachers in attendance. A. L. P. Green.'" We also insert this account, by Mr. Green, from the Western Methodist: " The camp-meeting at Saunders's Chapel, Fount- ain Head Circuit, commenced on Friday, September 5. Bishop McKendree was present, and preached once. The audience was large and respectable, although the weather was stormy and inclement. The excitement was not great until near the close of the meeting, when the power of God came, and the glory of the Lord passed before the people. Between twenty and thirty embraced religion. " The camp-meeting at Dixon's Springs, for Goose Creek Circuit, commenced on Friday, September 12. It was well attended by both preachers and people, notwithstanding there was much sickness in the neighborhood. Great peace and harmony prevailed throughout the congregation, and especially among the members of the Quarterly-meeting Conference, enabling them to dispatch their official business with signal celerity and perfect unanimity. Christians had great religious enjoyment, and although the number of converts was not so great as could have been wished, yet more than twenty owned their Saviour before men, and tasted the joys of his salvation. The Rev. E. J. Allen, the preacher in charge of this circuit, after traveling and laboring the whole year, and looking up to this camp-meeting with deep interest, a few days before its commencement had been attacked with the bilious fever. He had, how- ever, strength enough to sustain him in reaching CUMBERLAND DISTRICT — BISHOP m'kENDREE. 125 the ground, where he soon became worse, and on Saturday evening was carried from the encampment in a carriage. On taking his leave he implored the blessings of Heaven to rest on the campers, and on the meeting at large, and departed under the possi- bility that he would not see their faces any more, yet so joyful in the Lord that he shouted his praises in his bed as he was borne away. He has since happily recovered. " The Cairo camp-meeting commenced on Friday, September 19. The congregations were large, and respectable, and orderly — not a single thing having been observed that merited reproof during the whole meeting. There was deep attention to the preached word; Christians had sweet enjoyment, and four- teen persons professed to find the pardon of their sins. " Kew Salem camp-meeting, for Fountain Head Circuit, commenced on Friday, September 26. Here there were unusual displays of divine power. The good Spirit was with preachers and people from the commencement of the meeting; all ages and sizes were under its influence. Here Bishop McKendree preached with unusual unction and power. His text was, 'For to me to live is Christ; to die is gain.' After showing how the cause of Christ is promoted by the eftbrts and labors of his ministers, he came to speak of the gain it would be to the laborious minister and Christian to die. The question was, And tchat shall they gain? The first answer was that they should gain a sight of the Lord Jesus Christ, their best Friend; at which answer his aged cheeks overflowed with tears of holy joy, and the deep- 126 CUMBERLAND DISTRICT — BISHOP m'kENDREE. Stirred emotions of his soul choked his utterance. A corresponding emotion rolled its power over the audience, to the most distant listener. " One circumstance is worthy of notice. On Tues- day afternoon, near the close of the sermon, while the preacher was describing the joys of heaven, after calling to his congregation in the following language, '0 come and let us go,' a gentleman of no ordinary inilaence and standing in society, sitting in the congregation, rose to his feet, rushed into the pulpit, took the minister by the hand, and cried out, 'I will go with you, sir; Fll go loith you!' He was then asked by the minister if he would not take his friends with him; he said, 'Yes, sir, they shall go!' An invitation was then given to his friends and all others who had no religion to come to the altar; and such a rushing to an altar was never witnessed be- fore; the inclosure was filled to overflowing; groans and shouts filled the air. Between forty and fifty persons were happily converted at this meeting, and the work is yet gloriously going on in the neigh- borhood. " The fourth quarterly-meeting for White's Creek Circuit was attended at Ilaysboro, on the 4th and 5th of October. On Saturday, by reason of a con- stant fall of rain in the morning, but few persons attended. The preacher took for his text, 'Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.' After preaching about forty minutes, the Lord came into the midst, sure enough, filled the hearts of Christians with joy, and at the end of the service the singular fact CUMBERLAND DISTRICT — BISHOP M'kENDREE. 127 was ascertained that there was not a single soul present but what was rejoicing in God. On Sun- day the congregation was large; there was deep at- tention; many tears and shouts; and nine persons were added to the Church. "The camp-meeting at Suttle's, for Red River Circuit, commenced on Friday, October 10. This was a meeting long to be remembered by many. There were indeed but few preachers, but the best of all was that God was with the people, and be- tween forty and fifty were brought to a saving knowledge of the truth as it is in Jesus Christ. "The White Bluff camp-meeting, for Clarksville Station and Montgomery Circuit, commenced Friday, October 17. Here Christians had not only to con- tend with the powers of darkness, but with the cold weather, the frost, and the ice; yet the whole proc- ess of the meeting was not unlike the heating of a furnace. On Monday evening the furnace was in full blast, and a soul was converted about every ten minutes for hours together, and upward of thirty were born to God. Upon the whole, this was a glorious meeting. "The number of additions to the Church in all these meetings was about equal to the number who professed conversion." Dr. Redford says : "At the age of twenty-seven Dr. Green is the Presiding Elder of an important District; a position to which, at that time, only the best and ablest ministers were appointed, and one requiring not only skill and superior administrative ability, but intellectual endowments of a high order." 128 CUMBERLAND DISTRICT — BISHOP M'kENDREE. While on this District we find him, in company with F. E. Pitts and John W. Hanner, on a mis- sionary tour through the towns and villages of Mid- dle Tennessee, beginning at Nashville. lie is also very much concerned about La Grange College, which was one of his literary pets. His devoted friend, Dr. (Bishop) Paine, was president at this time; Richard H. Rivers and Collins D. Elliott were professors. To this institution he contributed his money and his influence. In 1834 Mr. Green becomes enlisted in a very pleas- ant and entertaining newspaper discussion with Dr. (Bishop) Paine, which was continued weekly for ten or twelve months. Dr. Paine did not know for some months who was his opponent. The subject of discussion was, "Are the American Indians the Lost Tribes of Israel?*' — Mr. Green, under the nom deplume of "Powhatan," afiftrming, and Dr. Paine, under the nom de flume of "Southron," denying. This discussion displayed a deal of study and re- search. We opine that the two antiquaries tumbled the cyclopedias right smartly. We are impressed that the discussion was far superior to the subject. Like the alchemists, they did not find the stone, but they found many wonderful things more valuable than the stone. This controversy, on account of its length, will not be published with Mr. Green's papers. The Tennessee Conference beginning November 5, 1834, was held in Lebanon. Bishops McKendree and Andrew were both present. In reading Dr. McFerrin's account of this Con- ference I cannot repress a smile when this dignified CUMBERLAND DISTRICT — BISHOP m'kENDREE. 129 body of preachers resolves itself into a teDiperance society, and resolves each member into a temper- ance agent, empowered to go forth and organize so- cieties, and elects that staid, sober old worthy, Joshua Boucher, as president, and Thomas L. Doug- lass, Robert Paine, and A. L. P. Green, as vice-pres- idents of the Conference society. We understand it: at this time the war against King Alcohol was young, and the crusaders were warm in the fight. In the latter part of the year 1834 Bishop Mc- Kendree preached his last sermon, in McKendree Church, ]^ashville. A. L. P. Green, his great ad- mirer and traveling companion, was present. We will hear his impressions in an extract from his elab- orate "Biographical Sketch"* of the Bishop, edited by Dr. Summers: "I can, in my imagination, see him this moment, as he stood on the walls of Zion, with his sickle in his hand: the gray hairs thinly covering his fore- head, his pale and withered face, his benignant coun- tenance, his speaking eye — while a deep under- current of thought, scarcely veiled by the external lineaments, took form in words, and fell from his trembling lips, as by the eye of faith he transcended the boundaries of time, and entered upon the eternal world. But he is drawing to the close of his sermon. Now, for the last time, he bends himself, and reaches his sickle forth, to reap the fields ripe for the harvest. How balmy the name of Christ as he breathes it forth, standing, as it were, midway between heaven and earth, and pointing to the home of the faithful ^This sketch is not among Mr. Green's papers in this book. 6* 130 CUMBERLAND DISTRICT — BISHOP m'KENDREE. in the sky! I look again: the sickle sways in his hand, his strength is measured out, and he closes up his ministerial labors on earth with the words, *I add no more,' while imagination hears the re- sponse from the invisible glory, 'It is enough !'" I am glad of the opportunity of inserting at this place a parenthesis, which is suggested, in part, con amove: 11. R. "W. Hill had employed Mr. John Grimes to paint the portrait of Bishop McKendree. Mr. Grimes was present with the implements of his art during the delivery of this last discourse. He suc- ceeded in outlining the form during the sermon, and with one short sitting, afterward, produced a small but very good likeness. My father procured the services of Mr. Washing- ton B. Cooper, an artist of whom I^ashville is justly proud, who, from the picture of Mr. Grimes, painted another portrait of the Bishop, much larger, and rich in imagery. This picture has been much ad- mired by the personal friends of the Bishop, as a likeness, and for its artistic finish; it is now in the keeping of my brother at the country home. I re- member, when a child, going into the parlor in a spell of ill-temper, and being run out by the re- proachful eyes of this same portrait. I must mention, in this connection, a brace of large-hearted charities: On the walls of the Bish- ops' Room in the Southern Methodist Publishing House hang the portraits of Bishops McKendree, Wightman, Soule, McTyeire, Kavanaugh, Paine, Doggett, Keener, Pierce, and Marviu^all the pro- CUMBERLAND DISTRICT — BISHOP m'kENDREE. 131 duction of the genius of Washington B. Cooper, and contributed by his liberality. They are as per- fect as human skill can make them; and it becomes the Methodist Church everywhere to honor the noble donor who has contributed so much to the ocular history of Methodism. Mr. Green visited Bishop McKendree during his last illness, at the home of his brother. Dr. McKen- dree, in Sumner county. We have his ow^n account of this visit in the "Biographical Sketches." He says: "Itw^as the high privilege of the writer to spend a night with him just before his death. how rich wxre the words that fell from his lips! Among other things, I at one time said to him, ' Bishop, I may live when you have passed away, and wherever I go your friends will want to hear from you; what shall I say to them?' To wdiich he answered: 'Tell them for me that, whether for time or eternity, alVs well!' This was a favorite saying wdth the Bishop, and was the last connected sentence that ever fell from his lips." Bishop McKendree died in the spring of 1835, and by his own request Thomas L. Douglass preached his funeral-sermon; but the members of McKen- dree, desiring a special memorial service in their own church, and wanting to know more about the good man, requested A. L. P. Green to deliver a funeral discourse, which he did, to a vast congrega- tion, June 21, 1835. This memorial was published by the official members of McKendree, and is pre- served in a book of "Conference Sermons." Now a digression. A traveler stops by the way to 132 CUMBERLAND DISTRICT — BISHOP M KENDREE. slake his thirst from a spring and to "rest under the shade of the trees." May we not pause occa- sionally, and allow our poor, enslaved pen a recess, and let our thoughts at random go? Forty-one years after the interment of Bishop McKendree, his remains were exhumed (in 1876), and deposited in the grounds of Vanderbilt Univer- sity. At the same time, his brother in Christ — Bishop Soule — was placed by his side. Through the courtesy of Mr. Groomes, the undertaker, I saw all that was left of the human body of the renowned McKendree — only a little dust, and in the midst the merest shells of the thigh-bone and the skull ; this was all. And this, thought I, is the great man whom my father loved, and talked so much about, and whose voice was heard from the northern lakes to the gulf! My faith — not my reason — came to the rescue: This is not McKendree; it is his mortal house, all gone to ruins, and in mourning, because of the absent spirit. Thank God that the "mouth of the Lord hath spoken it:" "This corruptible shall put on incorruption!" Mr. Green delivered an address to the young ladies of the Nashville Female Academy, December 11, 1834, on the occasion of the semi-annual exam- ination. This institution was another of his liter- ary wards. He was trustee during the administra- tion of Messrs. Elliott and Lapsley. He w^as very fond of the " Old Academy," and supplied it with very substantial pabulum. The Tennessee Conference beginning October 28, 1835, was held in Florence, Alabama. Bishop Soule CUMBERLAND DISTRICT — BISHOP m'kENDREE. 133 was present, and presided. By this Conference Mr. Green was elected a second time a delegate to the General Conference, which convened in Cincinnati, May 2, 1836. During the sitting of this General Conference, tradition says, A. L. P. Green was hos- pitably entertained by Mr. Spencer, whose son was afterward mayor of the city. Let us, then, be up and doing, With a heart for any fate ; Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor and to wait. 28. IN'ashville Again — His Preacher Associates. 'N the autumn of 1837 A. L. P. Green Avas appointed again to the Nashville Station, with Alexander Winbourne assistant preacher, and Fountain E. Pitts Presid- ing Elder. Besides MeKendree, there were College Side, Xew Hope, and some irregular preaching- places, under the care of the two pastors. Dr. McFerrin says ("Methodism in Tennessee," vol. iii., p. 123): "This year was more prosperous than the past, taking the numbers as evidence. The reports were: w^hites, four hundred and twenty- three; colored, four hundred and seventy -five. There was no missionary to the colored people, but the pastors of the white congregations had charge of the Africans. There was a missionary appointed to the Cumberland African Mission — the Rev. John Rains — who reported four hundred and twenty-five members. " Mr. Winbourne was a noble young man, whose race was short. At the end of the Conference-year he was transferred to the Alabama Conference, and stationed at Greensboro. His health failed, and he (134) HIS PREACHER ASSOCIATES. 135 returned to jN^ashville, and closed his useful life at the residence of his brother, eight miles from the city. He sleeps in the I^ashville cemetery, having died in the faith. A neat stone marks the place of his repose, erected by the Tennessee and Alabama Conferences, as a token of their appreciation of this servant of God." As far back as my memory goes I remember Fountain E. Pitts. He received me into the Church when he was in the zenith of his fame. I was about nine or ten years old; heard the great preacher tower on one of his tremendous themes; concluded- it would be best for me to join the Church, and so stated to my father; he thought so, too; led me up to the altar; I joined, believing that there was a God, a heaven, a hell, and a plan of salvation — that was all, and that was enough. Fountain E. Pitts blazed over the land like a me- teor. "Great man! the people gazed and wondered much, and praised." The last contribution to the press from my father's pen was the obituary of Mr. Pitts. It is just and true, and we insert it in full: "Fountain Elliott Pitts was born, in Georgetown, Kentucky, July 4, 1808. His grandfathers Pitts and Craig were both distinguished Baptist preachers. His parents died while he was quite young; but, being well connected in life, his relatives took charge of the young orphan, and he was favored with a good education for his day, and at an early age gave signs of more than ordinary promise. He was a subject of converting grace, and connected himself 136 NASHVILLE AGAIN. with the Church in his twelfth year. When ahout sixteen years old he was licensed to preach, and ad- mitted on trial into the Kentucky Conference in the autumn of 1824. He was ordained at Russellville, by Bishop Roberts, in 1826, and ordained elder, at Shelby ville, by Bishop Soule, in 1828, and that au- tumn became a member of the Tennessee Confer- ence. In 1835 he went as a missionary to South America. It is not necessary in this notice to fol- low him through his various appointments. He was missionary, circuit-preacher, stationed preacher, "and Presiding Elder. He married while young, and, with a growing family on his hands, had to contend with the difficulties common to preachers like situ- ated in those times — namely, heavy work and light pay. His life of labor and privation was incident to the heroic age of the Church. Brother Pitts was by nature richly endowed. He was a little below medium size, fair skin, light hair, and blue eyes, and when young was regarded rather handsome. His temperament was sanguine, always hopeful. His head was large, and his intellectual powers, in many respects, were of the highest order, and he was highly gifted as a speaker. His voice was full, clear, and musical; his enunciation distinct; his manner was deliberate, grave, solemn, and persua- sive; his language was always well -suited to his subject. He knew the way not only to the heads but to the hearts of his hearers, which gave him extraordinary power to control and, at will, to move the multitude. He preached generally without a manuscript, or even a note.; but by long practice^ HIS PREACHER ASSOCIATES. 137 retentive memory, and well-balanced mind, he was seldom at fault in his style. He understood the doctrines of the Church, and faithfully did he de- fend them. Although his mind was of a poetical cast, with a rich fancy and brilliant imagination, yet he was never carried off into extreme views or doubtful theories, but was always sound in doctrine. He was, at one period of his life, one of the most powerful field-preachers that I ever listened to. A camp -meeting, especially, seemed to inspire him; there he showed the full measure of his strength. He preached generally for immediate effect, and was wonderfully successful in securing the fruits of his labor. He sang well; when in his prime he pre- ferred a solo, and sang to effect, consulting his own ear and taste rather than science in singing. He was powerful in prayer and exhortation, and labored with great success in the altar. He loved his work — all parts of it — and was never idle. A dull, dry meeting rendered him unhappy, and sometimes seemingly impatient; but when the ark moved for- ward he was happy. He was a man of large heart, and full of sympathy, entering into the joys and sorrows of all about him. He was devoted to his friends, and decidedly a man of peace. So strong were his sympathies, so large his hopes, so confiding his nature, that caution seemed to be overwhelmed, making him in business matters too sanguine for a safe trader. But as he grew older his thoughts turned almost entirely to spiritual things, and he became more and more devoted to the interest of the Church. His conversation was almost entirely 138 NASHVILLE AGAIN. of the Church, the things of God, and the salvation of his soul. All his powers were employed in serv- ing the Church, frequently preaching two or three times in a day. He preached twice the last Sabbath he spent on earth. His last sermon was preached in Shelbyville, Kentucky, at night. On the next morning he returned to Louisville, and took his place in the General Conference, of which he was a member. In the evening he went to Mr. E. D. Hobbs's, a relative of his, some twelve miles out, and for two or three days was complaining of a slight indisposition. At length he suddenly grew worse, and on the 12th of May, 1874, he fell asleep in the arms of his Saviour. Dr. McFerrin sang a few verses of the old song, ' How linn a foundation, ye saints of the Lord;' at the close of the second verse he said, 'That's true!' He then said, ^ He that believeth in the Lord Jesus Christ hath eternal life,' and, repeating the words 'eternal life' several times, died with the words 'eternal life' on his lips. " His body was brought to Louisville, and taken to Walnut -street Church. The members of the Conference, in a body, came together to pay respect to his memory. Bishop Paine and Dr. McFerrin made appropriate and touching remarks, and wide- spread and general was the feeling produced. His body was then transferred to McKendree Church, Nashville, where all the preachers of the city and neighborhood, with a vast multitude of his old friends and acquaintances, came together, and, with suitable service, consigned him to his last resting- place. His life was a success. He won many souls HIS PREACHER ASSOCIATES. 139 for Christ, finished his work in triumph, and has gone to his reward. May God bless those who are left behind I'' The tongues of dying men Enforce attention, like deep harmony; Where words are scarce, they 're seldom spent in vain ; For they breathe truth that breathe their words in pain. Q9. IVashville Station — Canada Question. ISr the autumn of 1838 A. L. P. Green was returned to the IN'ashville Station, with W. I). F. Sawrie junior preacher, and, on ac- count of the increase in the work, one to be supplied. This was Mr. Green's fifth appoint- ment to the Kashville Station, and indeed his last year as a station-preacher. " There was a good work this year (in l^ashville), but, strange to say, no statistical reports from the Conference were furnished the editor of the General Minutes." ("Methodism in Tennessee.'') Mr. Sawrie, the colleague of my father this year, was emphatically " a son of thunder." In a revival- meeting he was, and is now, a host. More of a hortative than a didactic preacher, he rushes, like an unbridled cyclone, to a conclusion. My father, when he went forth to his big meetings, was delighted to have Mr. Sawrie with him. A long residence in !N^ashville, and the influence of secular matters, has somewhat dampened and sub- dued his ardor, but at times, when the sound of the camp-meeting horn falls on his ear, the old fire re- kindles, and he is again Sawrie of 1840. We are ex- (140) NASHVILLE STATION — CANADA QUESTION. 141 pecting, when a few years are gone, and the setting sun has mellowed his heart, that he will perform more deeds of valor than in the past. He was admitted into the Tennessee Conference on trial in the autumn of 1831 — Dr. Richard H. -Rivers was a member of his class. He has tilled the most conspicuous appointments in the Conference, and at this time is Presiding Elder of the Murfrees- boro District. A. L. P. Green was not elected by the Tennessee Conference of 1839 a delegate to the General Con- ference in 1840. The cause of his non-eledmi is not conjectural. I am reminded of a clause in the marriage-service : " Let him now speak, or else here- after forever hold his peace." We arise to explain. A man may ask no questions — it is better that he should not — if he has never been taken up; but to be taken up and set down demands an explanation. If a man becomes displeased with me, I am not sat- isfied m full for him to become pleased until he states why he was displeased. Ko respectable man, at the caprice of his neighbor, is morally required to be "a vessel unto honor and unto dishonor." Mr. Green was a member of every General Confer- ence of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, up to the time of his death. In the Methodist Episco- pal Church he was a member of the General Con- ference in 1832, 1836, and 1844, but not in 1840. He was a growing man, and was not less, but more, a leader in 1839 than in 1831 and 1835. The reader inquires, '' What was the matter? " The an- swer is found in the proceedings of the TennevSsee 142 NASHVILLE STATION — CANADA QUESTION. Conference on the "Canada Question." We will hear the testimony of the Rev. William E. Doty, now of the Louisiana, but formerly of the Tennes- see, Conference. Mr. Doty says: "When the Canada Conference thought it best to disconnect itself from the Meth- odist Episcopal Church in the United States, it asked for its proportion of the funds of the Book Concern and Chartered Fund. Dr. Green took the position that it was just and right. When the vote w^as put, I alone stood up with him. Years after- ward, when he was prosecuting the suit for the inter- est of the South, the attorney for the I**[orth made a strong point, asserting that Hhe vote in the Ten- nessee Conference was unanimous against the claim of the Canadians,' and pointed at and derided Dr. Green for prosecuting a suit in his own name against the Methodist Episcopal Church, when the princi- ple was the same in the Canada case. The South- ern lawyer said, 'Dr. Green, that is hard on us;' Mout,' said the Doctor, 'there is not a word of truth in it.' 'Thank God for that!' said the attorney. Dr. Green told me that 'he (his lawyer) withered the iN'orthern attorney for his want of information, as he had been paid to inform himself, and the record of the Tennessee Conference was before him.' He turned to the page, and there stood two votes for the Canadians— A. L. P. Green and W. E. Doty." . We add the testimony of Dr. J. W. Hanner: "One quadrennial Dr. Green was not elected; his vote defeated him. It was the Canada Question, or something of that sort; whether a certain body of NASHVILLE STATION — CANADA QUESTION. 143 Methodists set oit from the Church should have their share of the Book Concern and other prop- erty. He voted right; there was the man, and that was heroism ! Majorities are no proof that you will right be found; Few were saved in the ark for many millions drowned." So we conclude that he was snubbed in 1839 that the Church might be honored in 1850. This is a clear case of loss and gain. His great heart would not have had it otherwise, for there are times when "the post of honor is the private station." I have been closely following my father through a chain of appointments from 1824 to 1839. The chapters that follow will not be shaped by any chro- nological or Conference guage; they will be, in a very sporadic sense, miscellaneous, without any great violence to the unities and proprieties. To avoid repetition, I will make no reference to a deal of matter contained in my father's papers. Dr. Green, after 1840, becomes the servant of the whole Church; so with a willing heart, if not a capable mind, we put out to sea, hoping that a propitious spirit will direct us at what ports to touch and how long to stay. However, before setting out, we will take a general reckoning, or bird's-eye view. A. L. P. Green was a preacher of the gospel for fifty years. He was on circuits ^yq years, on sta- tions six years, on Districts thirty-four years, Finan- < ial Secretary of the Vanderbilt two years. He was a Presiding Elder continuously — omitting the war interregnum of 1862, 1863, and 1864— until his 144 NASHVILLE STATION^CANADA QUESTION. health failed, in 1872. He tilled the following ap- pointments: Jackson Circuit two years, Limestone Circuit two years, Madison Circuit one year, IN'ash- ville Station five years, Franklin Station one year, Cumberland District four years, Lebanon District five years, !l!Tashville District twelve years, Gallatin District one year, Clarksville District four years, Edgefield District one year, Murfreesboro District four years, Columbia District three years. d m 80. Incidentals on the Districts. N the autumn of 1839 A. L. P. Green was appointed to the Lebanon District, and in 1840 to the Kashville District, on which he continued four years. Dr. Robert A. Young says: "I remember well the day, in September, 1842, when fame first reported to my ears the name of A. L. P. Green. I had been converted at one camp-meeting, and had journeyed straightway to another, at Middleton Settlements, in East Tennessee. There I met a well-dressed coun- tryman, who informed me that we were not far from the neighborhood where Dr. Green was born. And who is Dr. Green? thought I; and is he a greater man than Thomas Stringfield? The gentleman ad- matted that in controversial theology Brother String- field was a match for the strongest — even for Dr. F. A. Ross — but Dr. Green was a poet, an orator, a re- vivalist, a financier, an ecclesiastical statesman, who lived in lN"asliville. And I remember all this." For four years, beginning in the autumn of 1844, my father served as Presiding Elder on the Clarks- ville District. I have now in my memory a host of camp-meetings on this District: great, glorious 7 " (145) 146 INCIDENTALS ON THE DISTRICTS. meetings they were, and hundreds were added to the Church. I attended one of them, and, notwitli- standing my youth, was very mucli impressed. I hope the reader's dignity Avill not be offended. I am about to rehite history that has to do with two of God's creatures. Lions are not the smallest biting things in the world, and I have known the profoundest men to forget their gravity during an attack on the cuticle and upper fascia of the spinal column. It is singular that a good thing and a great thing should suggest a very small thing. I never hear the word camp-meeting, however indis- tinctly articulated, that my mind does not revert to fleas. I remember how they tormented me, at- tacked me on the flanks, and surrounded me. I have a vivid recollection of retiring for the night in a division of the camp assigned to the sisters. There were between twenty-five and fifty of the sisters, and between twenty-five and fifty thousand others, male arid female. I remember, after suft'er- ing extreme torture, sinking into a disturbed sleep, and awaking with a start, almost suffocated; and then such a scene of carnage as presented itself! Not a female eye had been closed — the order of the night was a grand campaign against the fleas, under the black flag; the morning dawned, but there was no cessation of hostilities. I cannot recall the name of a single person who was converted at this meet- ing. With the exception of my father and the Rev. "William Burr, I do not remember who preached; and yet I pronounce it a feeling occasion, and the impression lingers with me still. Fleas still go to INCIDENTALS ON THE DISTRICTS. 147 camp-meeting, and are still fond of little boys and women — fond of the former because of their free- dom from the flavor of tobacco, and of the latter, especially the young ones, because of their tender- ness. We copy an extract from a letter of the llev. Golman Green, "the old man eloquent," whom my father respected and loved. Mr. Green, at this writing, is an old man, buoyant in spirit and vigor- ous in health. He is both semper felix and semper fidelis. He is not a circuit-rider, but a camjp -meeting rider, and during the meeting-season, in the summer and autumn, " renews his youth." When the camp- meeting horn shall be heard no more, the days of the old man will be numbered. Mr. Green says: " I furnish you a narrative of events that occurred in Robertson county, Tennessee, while your father was on the Clarksville District. "We reached the camp-ground on Friday even- ing. Ministerial help was very scarce. Dr. Green got up in the pulpit, in his usual calm way, and said: 'I know you are all very much out of heart; you have built a very fine shelter. Now, if you will keep up the altar exercises. Uncle Golman and I will do the preaching until Wednesday or Thurs- day evening.' I tell you he did preach like an angel from heaven. Tuesday night he preached on Pro- crastination, which was the most powerful appeal that I ever heard on that subject. At its close about forty persons came forward for prayer; but inky darkness seemed to overspread the whole assembly. Dr. Green was so tired that he lay down in the 148 INCIDENTALS ON THE DISTRICTS. camp to rest. You know how he loved Brother Carr. Said he, ^ Carr, go into the altar, and sing.' Carr went hopping in, and commenced singing, *Fare you well, I am going home,' and the clouds broke. Thirty or forty persons were powerfully converted in ten minutes. I went into the preach- ers' tent, and found your father sitting on the side of the bed, with tears as large as beads rolling down his face. He said, ' Carr's singing was as straight as any linger; there, it must have been the power of God!'" Dr. Young says: "I rode into Nashville in 1846, with the intention of joining the Tennessee Confer- ence, if I should be found worthy. It w^as when we used to have opening sermons. The old McKendree Church was crowded, galleries and all. Dr. Green was the preacher, and one young hero- worshiper was delighted. A year to prepare a sermon, and no manuscript — not even that notably dull contriv- ance called 'notes.' The Doctor just held forth at his own sweet will." When he spoke, what tender words he used ! So softly that, like flakes of feathered snow, They melted as they fell. g tt r'B 1 31. HiSTOEIA SaCEA. N the autumn of 1848 Dr. Green was ap- pointed to the Lebanon District, and in the autumn of 1852 to the Nashville Dis- trict, serving four years on each. Between 1843 and 1852 there were "matters of great pith and moment." It was one of the destiny periods of Methodism. There was the General Conference of 1844 in 'New York, with its great speeches on the cases of Harding and Bishop An- drew; and the "Plan of Separation," a very sensi- ble, honest document, which was mummified and laid away in the joint museum of the Churches; and then followed the Convention of the Southern wing, in 1845, in the city of Louisville, and that very exhaustive, lucid, and historical paper, called the "Report," which is an aclmirable expose of the Southern Methodists on the slavery question and other matters. Then follows the first General Con- ference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, in Petersburg, Virginia, in 1846; and the General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, in 1848, in Pittsburg, Pennsylvania; and the second General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal (149) 150 HISTORIA SACRA. Church, South, in 1850, held in St. Louis, Missouri. And the Church suits began in 1850. ]!Now, gentle reader, will you have a digest of all these Conferences, with a detailed account of the "Convention" and the "Church suits?" I do not think that you are able to bear it. Indeed, we are standing in the presence of a triumvirate, w^ho have invested all the held — Dr. Myers and Dr. Hedford, of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, and Dr. Elliott, of the Methodist Episcopal Church. The end of this great controversy is not yet, and, we opine, will not be until the champions who fought in the arena of 1844 have been gathered to their fathers. There is now too much of the ccclesiasticum odium to allow a fair discussion. Indeed, judging from the proceedings of certain iN^orthern Confer- ences, the Methodist Episcopal Church has not fully realized that African slavery in the South is non est. Prejudice will not take its flight until the hone of contention is disintegrated and scattered to the winds — not even the fossil must remain. We will perpe- trate a mathematical antithesis, by taking a few specimen bricks from the pyramids, and leaving be- hind just as many as there were at first. Dr. Green was a member of the General Confer- ence of 1844. There are many things that we should like to know, that the dignified journalist, or secre- tary of a General Conference, will not condescend to chronicle. AYe have the tradition that, with an end in view^, he was incessantly and persistently at work during this session. He was only thirty-eight years of age, and therefore did not take an active HISTORIA SACRA. 151 part in all the deliberations on the Conference- floor; for there were manv silver-haired men there, whose memories were teeming with the history of the Church. Whatever w^ere the outward phases of discussion, ''African Slavery" was the absorbing nucleus, about which all hearts and minds gathered, dreading the result, and yet satisfied that it would be for the best that the discussion which had been disturbing and agitating the Church for nearly fifty years should come to an end. In the cases of Har- ding and Andrew^ the question had assumed shape, and could be waived no longer. Dr. A. H. Redford says: "The discussion was continued, till the 30th of May, during which time, in addition to the speeches already referred to, Messrs. Hamline, of Ohio, Cartwright, of Illinois, and Dr. Durbin, of Philadelphia, addressed the Con- ference in favor of the substitute, and Messrs. Green, of Tennessee, Smith, of Virginia, Stamper, of Illi- nois, Sehon, of Ohio, Dunwody, and Dr. Capers, of South Carolina, against it. The speeches delivered on this occasion have seldom been equaled and never surpassed in the Senate Chamber of the United States." (" Organization of the Methodist Episco- pal Church, South.") For the benefit of the reader who may not have a History convenient, I subjoin the radical and noto- rious "Substitute:" "Whereas, The Discipline of our Church forbids the doing of any thing calculated to destroy our itinerant general superintendency; and whereas. Bishop Andrew has become connected with slavery 152 HISTORIA SACRA. bj marriage and otherwise, and this act having drawn after it circumstances which, in the estima- tion of the General Conference, will greatly embar- rass the exercise of his office as an itinerant General Superintendent, if not in some places entirely pre- vent it; therefore, ^^JResolved, That it is the sense of this General Conference that he desist from the exercise of this office so long as the impediment remains. " J. B. FiNLEY, ^'J. M. Trimble." Examples I could cite you more; But be contented with these four; For when one's proofs are aptly chosen, Four are as valid as four dozen. 33. Doctor of Divinity. |N the first day of October, 1845, the hon- orary degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred by the University of I^ashville on Messrs. A. L. P. Green, Robert A. Lapsley, and John T. Wheat. Mr. Lapsley was a Presbyterian minister, and Mr. Wheat a Protestant Episcopal clergyman. This degree may be esteemed more an honor as Mr. Green was intimately ac- quainted with every member of the Faculty. I am indebted for information to Dr. J. Berrien Lindsley, ex-chancellor of the University of i^ash- ville, and son of Dr. Philip Lindsley, deceased, who is at present connected with the Nashville Board of Health, and I believe at this date is the most promi- nent man in the State in the department of archae- ology. He has the second-sight and fossiliferoiis av- arice of an antiquary, and carefully stores away that which is strange and that which is old. He is at present preparing a ivork of memories, which will be of great interest to all our citizens who love to read about those great men who brought religion and civilization to the valleys of Tennessee, and whose dust is still with us. 7* (153) 154 DOCTOR OF DIVINITY. Dr. Lindsley says: ^'At the Commencement of the University of Nashville, held October 1, 1845, the degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon A. L. P. Green. Dr. Philip Lindsley, then head of the University, was remarkably chary in conferring such honors, as the University catalogue during his long administration fully shows. Dr. Green at that time was comparatively a young man, and the honor came entirely unsought. President Lindsley knew him well, and esteemed him highly as a man of solid native parts, of indomitable en- ergy, and of high promise for usefulness in the Church and to the public at large. Until President Lindsley's removal from Nashville iu 1850, a very cordial and friendly intercourse was kept up be- tween the two Doctors; the President viewing with marked satisfaction his friend's growing reputation as an orator and a writer." Li running my eye over the honorary list of the University of Nashville, I find the names of a num- ber of my father's nearest and best friends, all of whom, but one, have been honored by their Heav- enly Father with crowns of righteousness. Upon Bishop Paine was conferred the degree of Master of Arts, in 1826; and the same degree upon Eobert B. C. Howell, in 1839. Bishop Soule was elected Doctor of Divinity in 1827, John T. Edgar in 1834, and A. II. Erwin in 1856. We yield to the temptation of inserting a para- graph at this point. The conferring of honorary degrees by the uni- versities has, in a private way, been severely criti- DOCTOR OF DIVINITY. 155 cisecl by seemingly neglected or disappointed parties. The allegation is not that the universities reach too high, but sometimes stoop too low — even bartering their honors for influence. We have never heard this matter fully discussed, and question whether in most instances the assumptions can be sustained. There is a w^ide divergence between the degrees of A.M. and D.D. I suppose an education, however complete, would not entitle just any man to either of these degrees. It would require the most skill- ful diplomacy and disgusting favoritism to steer an educated fool through a respectable Faculty into the Doctorate of Divinity. This honor is conferred not so much upon classically educated men as upon wise men. It may be assumed that a Doctor of Di- vinity, whether a preacher or a layman, is learned in biblical knowledge. When the eyes of a uni- versity are turned upon a preacher with honorable intentions, the question is naturally sprung, lias he succeeded in the central idea? in other words, Can he preach effectively? A good chair-maker is not simply one who has an abundance of good material, but one who can make a strong, good chair. I have very much admired the honors of some men, done up in gilt frames and hung up on the wall; I have struggled through the Latin sentences, and then, like a child, have turned to the men themselves and wondered, "Is it possible?" We conclude that he is not a wise preacher who cannot put to a practical account what he knows, for wisdom is wiser than learning. A. L. P. Green was selected as a suitable person upon whom to confer the degree of Doctor 156 DOCTOR OF DIVINITY. of Divinity for the reason that he was a luise man, was learned in practical theology, knew men, and knew how to preach to them. The reader will pardon another short paragraph, as this is my first and will be my last opportunity to instruct the universities. As a class, the men who become candidates for collegiate preferment are not solely influenced by the greed for honor; there is a matter of utility that comes in. Like a sailor who puts his vessel under a full spread of canvas, with an eye to the practical as well as the beautiful, so the candidate for university favors, while he is pleased with the anticipated honor, contemplates filling his sails with wind and gliding with more celerity through some literary enterprise. How empty learning, and how vain is art, But as it mends the life and guides the heart! 38. The Chuech Suits. iHE first General Conference of the Meth- odist Episcopal Church, South, convened in Petersburg, Virginia, on the first day of May, 1846. This Conference adopted the following report: '•'• Resolved^ by the Delegates of the several Annual Conferences of the Methodist ^piscojml Church, South, in General Conference assembled. That three com- missioners be appointed, in accordance with the Plan of Separation adopted by the General Confer- ence of the Methodist Episcopal Church in 1844, to act in concert with the commissioners appointed by the said Methodist Episcopal Church to estimate the amount due to the South accordins: to the afore- said Plan of Separation, with full power to carry into effect the whole arrangement with regard to said division. '^Resolved, That John Early be, and he is hereby, authorized to act as the agent or appointee of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, in conformity to the Plan of Separation." There w^ere four resolutions in connection with the above that we think not necessary to insert. (157) 158 THE CHURCH SUITS. "Immediately after the adoption of this report, the Conference proceeded to the election of com- missioners by ballot, and on the first balloting H. B. Bascom, A. L. P. Green, and S. A. Latta were elected. IlTathan Bangs, George Peck, and James B. Finley had been appointed commissioners on the part of the Church (North) to act in concert with the same number of commissioners appointed by the Southern organization. ''On the 25th of August, 1846, Messrs. Bascom, Green, and Latta met in Cincinnati, and addressed a communication to the commissioners appointed by the Methodist Episcopal Church." For the cor- respondence between these commissioners I must refer the reader to the " Organization of the Meth- odist Episcopal Church, South," as it is too long for insertion. However, I must state that the INTorth- ern commissioners concluded that they (themselves) had no authority, and therefore respectfully declined to act in the premises, as their action would (to use their own language) "be null and void." "From this period until the subsequent meeting of the General Conference of the Methodist Epis- copal Church, no f/lrther steps were taken by the Southern commissioners. " The General Conference of the Methodist Epis- copal Church met in Pittsburg, Pennsylvania, May 1, 1848, and on the 12th the commissioners of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, submitted to that body a communication, to which no reply was made, nor was it referred to a committee." Dr. L. Pierce knocked at the door of this Confer- THE CHURCH SUITS. 159 eiice as a fraternal messenger from the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, with what success I should be mortified to relate. "As H. B. Bascom did not reach Pittsburg until the 13th of May, Dr. Pierce was in due form sub- stituted in his place ad interim.. Dr. Latta being prevented by extreme illness from attending, the Eev. C. B. Parsons was duly appointed ad interimm his place." The Southern commissioners, despairing at last of a fraternal settlement, drafted this resolution : '^Besolved, That it is expedient and necessary, in view of the interests and rights in controversy, that the necessary suits be instituted, as soon as practica- ble, for the recovery of the funds and property fall- ing due to the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, under the contract of the Plan of Separation adopted by the General Conference of 1844." The history of the Church suits, is it not recorded by Dr. Redford and others? " The first suit was brought in the city of N'ew York, against George Lane and others, for a divis- ion of the Book Concern in that city. D. Lord, the Hon. Reverdy Johnson, and Mr. Johnson, jr., ap- peared as counsel for the plaintifis, and the Hon. Rufus Choate, George Wood, and E. L. Fancher for the defendants. Thp case was tried before the Hon- orable Judges IlTelson and Betts. It was decided in favor of the plaintiffs. " The suit for the division of the Book Concern in Cincinnati was brought in the city of Columbus, in the United States Circuit Court for the District 160 THE CHURCH SUITS. of Ohio. The Hon. Mr. Stanberry was employed by the plaintiffs, and Messrs. Badger and Ewing by the defendants. The court was presided over by the Honorable Judge Leavitt, who rendered a decision in favor of the defendants. The Southern commis- sioners appealed from the decision to the Supreme Court of the United States. This court was com- posed of Chief-justice Taney, and Associate-justices Wayne, Catron, Daniel, I^elson, Greer, Curtis, and Campbell. The cause was heard in Washington City, in April, 1854, and was decided in favor of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, without dissent from any of the Justices, The opinion of the court was delivered by Judge l^elson, April 25, 1854." ("Organization of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South.") Judge McLean did not sit on this case because his sympathies and convictions were with the South, while he was a member, and a devoted one, too, of the Methodist Episcopal Church. To say that Dr. Green was mainly instrumental in the success of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, in these suits; that he was absent from home three and four months at a time; that he labored almost incessantly during the prosecution, and even months before; that he adopted every feasible plan, and availed himself of every r^ource, is not saying too much. In view of the services he performed, a grateful Churcb is willing to render "honor to whom honor is due;" and, we believe, as the years roll on this appreciation will increase. "The Methodist Episcopal Church, South, also THE CHURCH SUITS. 161 claimed an interest in the Chartered Fund, located in Philadelphia, which was paid over to the agents withont recourse to the law. From these several sources the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, re- ceived over three hundred thousand dollars." ("Or- ganization of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South.") About one hundred thousand dollars of this was canceled by debts owed to the I^orthern House. I must make mention of Colonel Alexander Cum- mings, editor of the Philadelphia Bidletin, and a warm personal friend of my father. Although a member of the Methodist Church (l!^orth), Colonel Cummings, without compensation, rendered valua- ble service to the (Southern) Church in obtaining its part of the Chartered Fund, for which the friends of Southern Methodism will hold him in grateful remembrance. The house and board of this great- hearted man were open and free to my father and his traveling companions during their stay in Phil- adelphia. Colonel Cummings, with his family, vis- ited Columbus, Georgia, during the session there of the General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, in 1854, where many a warm grip testified the gratitude of those whom he had favored. ■The Rev. Elisha Carr, who was present in Colum- bus at this time, made the acquaintance of Colonel Cummings and his family, and, hearing of their lib- erality, was so inspired with love and admiration for them that he said, "On my way to heaven I am. going to stop by Philadelphia and see them," which he did. 162 THE CHURCH SUITS. Bishop McTyeire, with reference to Dr. Green's services as a commissioner in conducting the Church suits, says: "As subsidizing excellences and accesso- ries to his characteristic quality, it may be men- tioned that he was a man of affairs. The volume of his brain and his commanding person made it so that in whatsoever direction he turned himself he had force. "When reluctantly the Church South brought her claim against the Church North, for an equita- ble adjustment of common property, after the Sep- aration of 1844, Dr. Green, with two others, was charged with the conduct of the business before the Supreme Court of the United States ; and in all its stages more than property was at stake. His col- leagues on the commission died, and though their places were filled, it is beyond question that he did a service for the Church and country in that matter that has never been appreciated, because never un- derstood. His mind took in all the subject, and di- rected and inspired the great lawyers who pleaded the cause." Considering Dr. Green as " a man of aftairs," Dr. Summers says: "Thousands will echo the language of David, and with tenfold more pertinency than he said it in regard to Abner: 'Know ye not that THERE IS A PRINCE AND A GREAT MAN FALLEN THIS DAY IN Israel? '* When he fell it was as when ' a standard- bearer fainteth.' Who are there among us ' who can bend his bow? ' Where is the ITestor that shall ^Bishop McTyeire's text on the occasion of Dr. Green's funeral. THE CHURCH SUITS. 163 stand up like him, a head and shoulders higher than others in our councils? He was eminently the statesman of the Church. He had a massive brain, level head, well-balanced faculties, and many-sided powers. He w^as calm, deliberate, cautious; yet de- cided, outspoken, and firm. His long and intimate association with Bishop McKendree, having been for some time his traveling companion, and subse- quently w^ith Bishop Soule, had a happy influence on Dr. Green. He had a high appreciation of those princes in Israel, imbibed their views, and formed his character largely upon their model. In many respects he was the superior of both. In the mem- orable session of the General Conference of 1844, in New York, he was looked up to as a wise counselor; leading ]!^orthern ministers sought his advice, and begged him to overcome his reluctance to the Plan of Separation and sanction that measure, so essen- tial to the welfare, not to say the existence, of the Church, knowing the influence of his character and opinions ISTorth and South. "As a commissioner on the part of the Church South to settle the property question, he evinced a w^ise diplomacy and conciliatory spirit which greatly enhanced his reputation in both Connections. During the entire vexatious controversy no man was more acceptable in the Methodist pulpits of ]N"ew York, Philadelphia, and other Northern cities, than Dr. Green." The reference of Dr. Snmmers to Bishop Soule reminds me, there existed between the Bishop and my father the closest intimacy, which antedated 164 THE CHURCH SUITS. 1844. They were thrown together much during the pendency of the Church suit in 'New York. There was mutual admiration and a oneness of opin- ion and feeling between them. I extract from a letter of the Rev. William E. Doty, which is to the point: "I write to give you the estimate in which Dr. Green was held by Bishop Soule in 1845. I carried the Bishop and his wife from my house to Marshall, the seat of the Texas Conference. As the General Conference was to convene in Peters- burg the following year, I asked him who would probably be made Bishop. He promptly answered, 'Dr. Green.'" I remember going into my father's room at night, at an Annual Conference in Clarksville. His room- mate. Bishop Soule, had retired. The cabinet meeting was not over, and the Bishop was alone, for he was not presiding at that Conference. Rising up in the bed, he pointed to a box near by, and asked me to open it and help myself to a bunch of grapes, but not disturb the bunch lying on the table. The next day I inquired about that bunch on the table, and was informed that a friend had presented the Bishop a box of grapes, and that it was his habit to eat a bunch in the morning and at night, and that he never failed to leave a bunch for Dr. Green at night. 34. Slavery and Dr. Green. [E presume that slavery had somewhat to do with the division of the Church. The same leaven ultimated in the late war. As some of the wise men put it, "It was the occasion, but not the cause, of the separation." There is certainly some logical acumen in this, which we are not inclined to either probe or analyze. To our blunt mind the cause was about equal to the occasion, and the occasion was a very good excuse for the cause. Yerily, the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, had the right, under its biblical charter, to disclaim any political character. If it was proslavery or antislavery, it was a politico-religious Church. (I speak of the Church prospectively, as nominally it had no existence before the Convention in Louis- ville.) While a Church may not be proslavery or antislavery, its ministers may. Men, not Churches, are politicians. Every man in the General Confer- ence of 1844 was either proslavery or antislavery, and their votes and speeches were influenced accord- ingly. In many instances the fro and the anti were the accidents of education and location. Antislav- er}^ men from the North, after a residence of a few (ir>5) 166 SLAVERY AND DR. GREEN. years in the South, became proslavery, and the same might be said vice versa of the effects of a !N"orthern residence upon proslavery men. As it is not my purpose to accuse or excuse, or to revive an old story, I will take a hurried glimpse of the Southern atti- tude on the slavery question in 1844. African slavery was an institution in the Southern States in 1844. The members of the Southern wing of the Methodist Episcopal Church were, many of them, slave-holders; they had no conscientious scru- ples on the subject; they held that the ownership in slaves w^as a right, jure divino. [N'o Annual or Gen- eral Conference action could have disturbed the insti- tution of slavery in the South in the slightest degree. It was a fixity in law and in conviction. Any Church legislation against it would have been like Don Quix- ote's battle with the windmills — somebody would have been hurt, but not the windmills. If the South- ern delegation in the General Conference of 1844 had favored by their votes the silencing or suspen- sion of Harding and Andrew, either the delegation "would have been cut off or the Southern w^ing of the Church destroyed forever. Years of labor and of prayer established Methodism in the South, and there was too much comeliness and grace to be sacri- ficed for naught. I have had a grudge against slavery for the trouble it gave the Church, and because of the noble and honest blood that was shed in its defense. When the dark shadow passed out and on, I was tempted to slam the door on its back. I speak only for my- self. SLAVERY AND DR. GREEN. 167 Dr. Grreen was a proslavery man, but was never a radical in his love for, or in his defense of, the in- stitution. He was associated with, and knew inti- mately, many of the old antislavery preachers, and was just as intimate with a multitude of the modern proslaver}^ preachers. He imbibed some of the sym- pathy of the former, and embraced the convictions of the latter. He was not proslavery just in order to be "subject to the powers that be;" there was principle that lay far beneath this. He even vvent so far in his newspaper articles as to administer a little ridicule for the benefit of his antislavery friends. He favored the institution when it was properly controlled and a blessing to the slave. He believed the negro incompetent and unfitted for self-government, and hence a wise, good master was a necessity. Mr. Webster's definition of shivery — "a human being held as goods and chattels" by another — he never indorsed, neither did any other Southern Christian. The grosser form of slavery was revolting to him. On one occasion he found his sympathies so wrought upon by the cruelty of a master to an old slave that he sprang to his feet, and gathered hold of a chair to strike down the tor- mentor, but was restrained by the reflection that he was his guest. Dr. Green never inflicted corporal punishment upon a slave, not because he did not think physical punishment sometimes necessary to the welfare and government of the slave, but for the same reason that he never corporally punished his children. He never used the severer when the milder means 168 SLAVERY AND DR. GREEN. availed. He never purchased but two slaves, and these he bought under his own protest, at the urgent solicitation of the negroes themselves. His reason for this was not any scruple about the evil of own- ership, but because he had the good sense to know that slave property was not the most remunerative. As far as any principle was involved, to own one slave was the same as to own a hundred. A family of negroes was presented to him, which he sent, at his own expense, into a free State; they continued to write to him for years, begging to be received back into their former condition. My mother and grandmother owned three negro families, not one of whom ever called my father "master" — why I know not. The only practical use that Dr. Green had for a negro was to listen, with the greatest interest, to his ridiculous gabble; for many of his side-splitting an- ecdotes were negro speeches and religious experi- ences abounding in big words. In concluding this paper, I must whisper to my friends on both sides, For the sake of truth and charity, do not extract, but take with you the whole of this chapter. 35. Camp-meeting Incidents. IE liave a communication from the Rev. William Doss, a member of the Tennes- see Conference, and the successor of my father on the Columbia District. Mr. Doss belongs to the old guard. He writes: "Dr. Green was a man of extraordinary faitli, which the following incident will illustrate: "At the first camp -meeting held at Hurricane Switch — a camp-meeting which owes its existence to Dr. Green more than to any one else — I was called upon to preach the opening sermon, which I did, on the subject of Faith. As an illustration I stated the incident referred to. Some time after the service Dr. Green arrived, and I spent the night with him. In conversation I mentioned the inci- dent, and related it as I had used it in the sermon, and asked him if I had stated it correctly. He replied, ' Yes, only you did not make it strong enough,' and then proceeded to state the case, as near as I can recollect, in the following language: " ' I once held a camp-meeting in a very wealthy, aristocratic community. I made my best efforts, but they seemed to make little or no impression 8 (169) 170 CAMP-MEETING INCIDENTS. upon the people. After I had done all I could do, as I thought, I left the stand and walked toward the preachers' tent, under the influence of this kind of feeling: You have just as much right to go to hell as an}' people in the world; so just go! But before I reached the tent a strange impression, or impulse, came upon me, which brought me suddenly to a stand-still, while the thought rushed into my mind. You have been depending too much on the strength of your own efforts; you have not trusted sufficiently in God! I turned around and walked back to the stand, took my position in the altar, and commenced talking in a conversational tone of voice, and stood there talking on, with scarcely any physical effort, until I talked sixty-two sinners into the altar.' " We have also an interesting letter from Dr. J. G. Wilson, which may be inserted in this connection. Dr. Wilson is a native of Nashville; was formerly a member of the Tennessee, but now of the St. Louis, Conference. He says: "From the hands of Dr. Green I received my license to preach, at Walton's Camp-ground, in the summer of 1849. I was brought up in the Cumber- land Presbyterian Church ; was converted at Pope's Camp-ground, and joined the Cumberland Presbyte- rian Church in Nashville. Before receiving license to preach, and while looking into matters with that view, I became dissatisfied with Cumberland Pres- byterian doctrines on certain points, and remember a conversation with Dr. Green on that subject, at the close of which he said, 'Well, John, if von fall CAxMP-MEETINa INCIDENTS. 171 through the Cumberland Presbyterian Church, the Methodist is next to it, and I reckon it will catch you.' I am proud to say that this is as near to pros- elyting as any Methodist came in my case. "My first sermon was preached under Dr. Green's direction. I shall never forget. We had dined at the same tent, and after dinner we sat talking to- gether for some time in the rear of the tent. Start- ing afterward to walk together toward the church, in w^hich several of the preachers lodged, he said, ^ Well, Brother John, I reckon you must preach for us at the next hour.' 'You are joking. Doctor,' said I; 'I am not licensed to preach yet.' (This was on Saturday ; my application for license was to come before the Quarterly-meeting Conference on Monday.) 'We'll see,' he replied, in his own pe- culiar way. Presently, at the church, one of the preachers asked, 'Doctor, who preaches the next hour?' 'We '11 have to try Brother John,' was his reply. ' The Doctor wants to see if you will do to license to preach,' said one of the preachers. ''No, no,' said the Doctor; 'we'll not judge him by this effort. If he preaches a poor sermon, we'll think he was scared, and will do better next time; and if he preaches a good sermon, we will think he got it out of some one's book.' Just then the horn sounded, and I had to get to the stand, find my text, and blaze away, off-hand. " One gift Dr. Green possessed in greater measure than any preacher I ever knew — I mean that of reaching and moving a man by a remark thrown in at an odd moment and in an unexpected manner. 172 CAMP-MEETING INCIDENTS. Two instances which occurred at the above meeting may serve to illustrate this. " While we were sitting in the rear of the tent, talking, as above-said, there was seated not far from us one of those men, often seen, who are good lobby- members of the Church — that is to say, they are friends to religion in a patronizing sort of way, glad to see it moving on, ready to help a meeting in any way, but who seem to feel that they them- selves have no personal interest in it. Several mem- bers of the Church had for some time been talking with this man about religion, and he was parrying what they had to say, when presently, to the sur- prise of all. Dr. Green broke in, as if angry: 'Go away, and let that man alone! there have been counsel and prayers enough wasted on him to have converted twenty better men. It is his privilege to go to the devil if he is determined to do it.' The idea that Dr. Green seemed disposed to give him up to be damned, and that he should be vexed with those who tried to prevent it, appeared to strike the man as with a galvanic shock. ' no. Doctor! ' said he, with evident emotion; 'it would not do to give me up in that way.' The next time mourners were called he was one of the first to come forward. "At another time Dr. Green, looking earnestly and fixedly into the face of another man of the same sort, without a word at first, at last said, gravely, 'W., I am concerned for you. You have passed through meeting after meeting at this place, and I have been watching you during the meetings. You stand up by the altar when the fire is burning CAMP-MEETING INCIDENTS. 173 hottest, and the sparks fall all over you, and' — suit- ing the action to the words — 'you have only to shake yourself, and they all fall off. I am afraid you are gone.' The words and manner evidently made a deep impression, and at the next call for penitents this man was one of them." 36. Dr. Green and Children. [R. GREEN was very fond of children — not this one or the other, or some particular child, but all children — and the children (all children are observing) knew it, and were fond of him. He came to the Saviour when a child and ''as a child," and he retained through youth and manhood the simplicity of a child. He appreciated the unsuspicious, unenvious character of a child. Children are not misers, nor backbiters, nor skeptics, nor infidels; therefore, he loved them — loved to have them near him, to sit on his knee, to comb his hair, to hear them talk. He was inter- ested in their incongruous stories; he remembered and repeated what they said, and there seemed to be a kind of freemasonry between them ; for he knew them, and they knew him, at once. Just anybody's child looked up into Dr. Green's face, was inspired with confidence, and never forgot him. He was proud of the love of a child. He had scores of juvenile correspondents; many of them wrote to him their " maiden " letters, which were never " laid upon the table," but answered at once. He never let slip an opportunity to defend the irrepressible boy. (174) DR. GREEN AND CHILDREN. 175 Writing to tlie Rev. S. W. Moore, during the ses- sion of the General Conference at l^ew Orleans, he says, "Dp not let the children forget me." One of his child-friends (Miss Annie Ransom), now grown np to womanhood, writes: "I have been intimately associated with Uncle Green since quite a child, and in my earliest childhood sought every opportunity to be with him, and never ceased to be interested in all he w^ould say. He was truly the children's friend. I never knew a child who did not love him. Knowing that I was an orphan, he coun- seled me as a father would a child, and, I suppose for this reason, manifested a special interest in my behalf. When the cold hand of death was laid upon him I felt that God had taken one of my best and truest friends." Bishop Paine says : " He was the children's prince of talkers. He knew just how to address them, and amuse as w^ell as instruct them. Like his great Master, he loved them, and they sought his bless- ing." Bishop McTyeire says: " His ministry to children was pleasing, effective, and formed a marked feature of his life. He held that childhood was amenable to the regeneration of the Spirit, but not to all the signs and conscious experiences that mark the con- version of adults." My father's happiest speeches to children were impromjytu, and drawn from his own experience. He knew his little auditors so well that it was not necessary for him to cast about but a few moments to i^ather tosrether what would instruct and amuse. 176 DR. GREEN AND CHILDREN. Bishop McTyeire, referring to this happy mental readiness, says: "Occasionally Dr. Green had the intuitions of genius, and a whole line of argument flashed into his mind in a moment. Once, in a union prayer- meeting in Alabama, in 1864, he made a talk so unique, and original, and appropriate, I was led to inquire about the genesis of it; for we had gone to the house together, and his mind was not running in that direction. ' That all came to me,' he replied, 'betw^een the unexpected call of the prayer-meeting leader and rising to my feet.' ''More remarkable was his Sunday-school speech — the last he ever made. All who have heard it will agree that it was the best of its kind — unequaled for raciness, humor, pious and practical directions. Children listened with unflagging interest for an hour and a quarter, and children of a larger growth were sorry when he ended. The case, as I had it from himself, was this: He was in Baltimore, at- tending the Foreign Missionary Board, at the same time with the Annual Conference. A mass-meeting of the Sunday-schools was arranged for. Delayed on the w^ay, he got to the hall late. An immense audience had assembled, and the children were in uncommon array. Being second in the programme, he had no speech made up. The first speaker was introduced, and declined. The burden fell on A. L. P. Green; the pressure was sudden and heavy. He began by apologetic remarks. An old gentleman, more moved than the speaker intended, rose up and said, 'Go on, sir; we'll hear you with pleasure.' DR. GREEN AND CHILDREN. 177 While these few words of kind interruption were being spoken, the whole plan and outline of that Sunday-school address was conceived, and the deliv- ery proceeded. That address was repeated at Mem- phis, at St. Louis, and at several places in Middle Tennessee, to large and delighted audiences. At the late General Conference, in Louisville, Dr. Green repeated it in Library Hall, and delegates who had heard it three or four times before went and heard it again with interest." Dr. Summers never rises so high in sublime ethics, nor descends so deep into profound theology, that his pencil may not be staid by the voice and presence of a child. He says: "Dr. Green took a special inter- est in the Sunday-school cause. He rarely failed to attend the Sunday-school when he had the opportu- nity to do so. He was at the McKendree Sunday- school the last Sunday he was at church. He loved to talk to children, to sing with them, to pray with them. He believed in the religion of childhood. He did not trouble himself much about the meta- physico-theological questions which beset the sub- ject. He believed that the Holy Spirit moves upon the heart of tender infancy, and he was disposed to follow up the motions of the Spirit on the young, and he claimed them all for Christ and the Church. And he was right. how the children loved Dr. Green! He was a perfect child among them; and they were always ready ^ to pluck his gown, to share the good man's smile.' " I might refer to the cases of a number of persons who, when grown to maturity, came to my father 8* 178 DR. GREEN AND CHILDREN. and reminded him of some little notice that he took of them when they were children, and which were the beginnings of their religious lives. The days will come, and the days will go, And life hath many a crown, But none that will press upon manhood's brow As light as the roses resting now On the children's foreheads brown. 37. Philantheopy axd Other Matters. jO?-IETIMES we approach a particular with more accuracy and rapidity by advancing through a general. When we affirm that Dr. Green was the preacher's friend, we mean something more than mere personal regard or attachment. He loved the Church; the Church was as dear to him as "the apple of his eye." He loved the name, the government, and all the inter- ests of the Church ; and out of this general love was evolved much of his love for the preacher. He dealt tenderly and lovingly with the pastor, because the destiny of the pastor is intimately blended with his flock. In this connection. Dr. J. W. Hanner says: "Dr. Green's views of Church-discipline were liberal, manly, and lenient. He never went about hunting up rumors or charges to get a member out of the Church ; nor did he expel one for an impro- priety or a fault. He did not belong to that class of immaculate churchmen who hold that the Divine Master organized the difterent Churches, formulated their different creeds, rules, and ceremonies, as so many squads of saints, utterly intolerant of associ- ation with any sort of sinners. He believed the (179) 180 PHILANTHROPY AND OTHER MATTERS. Churcti to be a hospital for the sick, organized for the purpose of caring for the sick, and helping them to 'flee from the wrath to come.' Like the Master, Dr. Green preferred to 'let the wheat and the tares grow together until the harvest,' rather than to root up both. If a member 'be overtaken in a fault,' let those 'who are spiritual restore such an one in the spirit of meekness,' not try to destroy him by cutting him off in the spirit of Churchism. "It was when the elder members of the Confer- ence wore the shad-belly, and the younger, long- skirted frock-coats. Examining character, the Bishop called out: 'A. L.P.Green; is there an}^ thing against him ? ' A brother rose up slowly, lifted his eyes to the ceiling, locked his hands, with proper dignity, hori- zontal to the lower button-hole of his keel-bottom, in which was much of his piety, and said: 'We must not be conformed to this vain world; we must keep the ministry pure; I object to the cut of his coat; he knows that I love him, but we must take care of the Church.' It was a dress-coat, sometimes called, by the wicked, ^ siimllow-tail,' or ^claw-hammer.' The accused replied by stating that he worshiped one Sunday with the Episcopalians, who have a great deal of kneeling and getting up. That day he wore a frock-coat; somebody went down with his knee on the skirt of it, and being slow to rise, there was a hitch, which tore off the skirt. This suggested the idea of trying a swallow-tail, without any thought of wounding a brother's conscience. His character then passed. "Ah, that was an age of pious groans and religious PHILANTHROPY AND OTHER MATTERS. 181 clothes! Would it not have done your heart good to see a preacher ascend the sacred desk with a yellow w\atch-chain and sleeve-buttons, to read a scientitic sermon? " He did not wear a cane. My antipathy to canes is unaccountable. One likes to see an old man with a staff, a young man also w^ho is crippled or mighty weak in body or mind. But a healthy man under sixty-five carrying a cane! well, whether it is a fop- pish mockery of manhood, or something else, one doesn't know. Give me to choose a manly friend from a dozen men never seen before; let six have canes and six have none; my choice would be a man without a cane." I am not inclined to spring a discussion with the Doctor on the subject of canes; indeed, I have a sort of innate prejudice against them myself; but, with all due respect to his opinion, circumstances must alter cases, even as regards young men. My father used a staiF sometimes wdien strollinsf around his farm, but never anywhere else. I have a sturdy hickory standing in the corner which I use occa- sionally. There are a number of families, members of my charge and congregation, whom I visit regu- larly at their homes. E"ow, be it known, the law does not allow me to carry fire-arms or a loaded stick; the law does not require a man to put a sign over his gate, "There are wild beasts here!" Further- more, if I attempt to visit these families without a heavy stick, my jugular will be in danger. No Christian man keeps a tiger turned loose in his yard — that would not be lawful — but he is permitted 182 PHILANTHROPY AND OTHER MATTERS. to keep a wild beast, called a hull-dog^ that is even more ferocious than a tiger. I have fought with one of these beasts three times in the last tw^o years; my good stick has at last subdued him. So there it is! The perils of pastoral visiting are such that a stafi* must be used sometimes. Youno^ and timid as I am, I have fought wdth more beasts than Paul did at Ephesus. We propose a compromise with the Doctor. Those switches that are called canes we wdll unitedly oppose; but a good, healthy hick- ory, incased in its native bark, that laughs w^hen a beast cometh, Ave will recognize its presence and utility. I love a good dog-stick — smooth it down with my hand, chuckle to myself, How a grinning bull-dog would be embarrassed in its presence! I am obliged to the Doctor for opening with his cane my throttle-valve against the dog. As a contributor I should have treated him with more deference, but I could not repress my inclination to condemn the presence of wild beasts in the yards of Christian gentlemen. Dr. Kelley says, "I am more afraid of a dog than of the devil." My comment on this is that I had rather fight the devil than a dog. In the matter of dress I wnll add that my father, when I was a child, wore the clerical w^hite neck- tie, but for thirty years before his death he donned onl}^ the black. I can divine his reason for the change: he wanted to approach socially near to a class of men from wdiom clerical uniform would cut him off to some extent. I express my own taste and feelings when I say that my aversion to a white cravat on a minister is about as strong. as Dr. Han- rHILANTimOPY AND OTHER jVIATTERS. 183 uer's antipathy to a cane. For fear of oifending some parties, whom I love and respect, I will not ventilate my reasons. Passing the laymen by, and the clergy of other Churches, and the old Methodist preachers, I would not recommend the colorless tie to a young circuit-rider, for the reason that they are so very unhandy, and then they give a young min- ister an innocent, soft appearance. I think it better to have more of the man and less of the preacher outside. [The editor will not be held responsible for these observations.] Dr. Hanner continues: "Take him altogether, he mixed in himself the strong elements of manhood with the gentle sweetness of womanhood. Great and good! I never tried to make him my friend; did not follow him nor fawn upon him; never did any thing for him worth mentioning, nor did he much for me, yet he w^as my friend; I loved him, and love his memory still. Nothing but his memory can ever Jill for me the void which his death has made in the Conference, the Church, and the social circle." We have a very pleasant communication from the Kev. Felix I{. Hill, formerly of the Tennessee, but now of the Alabama, Conference. Mr. Hill, im- pressed with Dr. Green's love for the preachers, writes : "I have sometimes heard it said of Dr. Green, as is alleged of most wealthy men, that he was not so liberal with his means as he might liave been. I suppose, though, that no one who knew hira well ever brought such a charge against him. 184 PHILANTHROPY AND OTHER MATTERS. While many of his charities are known publicly, he did much in a quiet way that none knew but those whom he benefited. In giving he acted upon the principle of not letting the left-hand know what the right-hand doeth. I gratefully remember an in- cident of this kind connected with myself. ''For two years he was my Presiding Elder. The Church being weak, the pastor's salary was quite moderate. At the meeting of each Quarterly Con- ference of both years Dr. Green insisted upon being paid the amount due him, but at the close of each year he privately handed me a check for the whole amount that he had received: and though I objected to taking it, he insisted upon my doing so, with the posiiioe injunction that I should say nothing about it. I doubt not other members of the Tennessee Con- ference can give a similar experience. "Dr. Green not only had a large brain, but a big heart, full of generosity and true charity. He was a great, grand man, independent of the criticisms of others, yet always striving earnestly to do his whole duty to God and his fellow-creatures." Here is a letter to the point from the Rev. Will- iam Doss, of the Tennessee Conference, from which we extract: "Dr. Green was a philanthropist. He was well known in the Conference cabinet for a large portion of his life. Here he was the guiding- star; and in no department of the Church are his wise counsels more missed. Whenever a brother was likely to be oppressed, he was sure to find a friend in Dr. Green. If an old man was likely to be shoved ofi:', he was the last one to get weary in PHILANTHROPY AND OTHER MATTERS. 185 hunting him a place. Of this the following inci- dent is strikingly illustrative: ''Once, while representing a District, an old man, who had been in my charge the previous year, although a good man, on account of some pecul- iarities, had become unacceptable. I informed the Bishop that I could find no work in my District with which the old preacher could be safely in- trusted. This announcement aroused Dr. Green, and he at once commenced a diligent search all over the Conference for a place. At every meeting of the cabinet the search was continued; he would in- quire of this brother and that. Long before the scene ended I felt reproved that I had not made greater efforts to find my man a place. Finally to- ward the close of the session, finding a place no- where else for the old veteran, he took him on a good circuit in his own District. That year the old man fell at his post." To the eye of a stranger, during the session of the Conference, my father may have seemed a log-roller, or an electioneerer. It was not strange to find him aside, button-holed by an ambitious young itinerant, or a feeble, care-worn veteran, relating the same old story, and beseeching his influence with the appoint- ing power. Dr. D. C. Xelley says: "Dr. Green's knowledge of men was large, for he had mingled with them in all their phases, and had not only observed widely, but thought deeply. He used his knowledge not deceitfully, but lovingly, to accomplish good, both for them and the Church. His friendships were of 186 PIIILANTimOPY AND OTHER MATTERS. the strongest cast. No man who ever called A. L. P. Green friend had a right to say, afterward, ' I am without a friend.' The most uncultured preacher- boy^ entering with timid and awkward tread upon the arena of his life-work, found in him not only a wise counselor, but a kind-hearted and sympathetic friend, who when he had once taken hold of him never let him go. Again and again have we seen him on the Conference-floor performing the loving duty of lightening the heart of the old preacher of the sorrow of yielding the burdens of active duty and going to the roll of the superannuated, saying: 'It is not because you are less necessary to us that we thus refuse to send you to the front, where the affray is the hottest, but because of the value of your experience we must keep you where we can preserve your wisdom longest to guide us. We are not turning you out, as the old horse, to graze on the commons, but only giving you the freedom of all our homes. When you come, the warmest places at our hearth-stones, and the choicest places in our hearts, you will find to be yours.' "There is an involuntary heart-ache as the ques- tions come up, 'Who is to encourage the young men with a smile? who to divide the sorrows of the old, now that he is gone?' "Perhaps to the casual observer his most marked excellence was contained in the beatitude, 'Blessed are the peace-makers, for they shall be called the children of God.' Many a time, in the perturbation of debate in Church-convocations, have we known a few sentences from him to allay excitement, and PHILANTHROPY AND OTHER MATTERS. 187 brins: brethren to see each other in the liffht of kindness. This did not arise, as in many cases, from a negative or emotionless nature, bnt from the great size of his heart and width of his brain. While others only saw one side of a question, and w^ere bitter in their denunciations of what was to them utter falsehood, he with unrivaled calmness looked quietly at all its phases and possible developments; saw the truths of both sides, and brought antago- nists tofi^ether in his broader lis^ht. ^'He possessed, in an eminent degree, that rare power of never losing sight of either principles or men. You have known many men, gifted with the power to win large success, who so adhered to prin- ciple that in the determined force of their progress they were likely to trample down friend or foe, crushing the heart-strings of those very friends by the force of their advance. Other strong men you have known whose devotion to friends was such as to make their advance w^avering and their achieve- ments doubtful. Dr. Green never lost sis^ht of a principle, nor wavered when he deemed it important to press it to its farthest result; yet in doing so the claims of the hearts of his friends were held in sacred memory." Dr. Green was interested in all the little affairs of the young people. There was no unapproachable dignity or grandeur about him. The boys talked to him about just any thing. We find him in 1873, when very much afflicted in body, corresponding with (Rev.) W. K. Peebles, who was then preparing for the ministry, on the momentous (?) question as 188 PHILANTHROPY AND OTHER MATTERS. to whether he should study Hebrew or not. The good advice was that he should go on and get his diploma, and then study Hebrew. Generous as brave, Affection, kindness, the sweet offices Of love and duty, were to him as needful As his daily bread. 38. The Angler and Angling. JY father, as I have said before, was asso- ciated in early life with the Creek and Cherokee Indians, and, no doubt, while with them imbibed his love for the woods and streams. He was first a hunter, and then a fisherman. He w^as a crack shot with the old Ken- tucky rifie, but would never recognize any thing in the way of game short of a deer or wild-turkey. So, as the country became settled, and the game of the nobler sort very scarce, the rifle was laid aside for the more apostolic and gentle sport of fishing. Indeed, he had very little respect for a shot-gun, and complained of its oftensive noise, being in strik- ing contrast with the musical ring of a rifle; to him the former was heavy, sober prose — the latter w^as exhilarating, euphonious poetry. Considering his extreme fondness for fishing, he indulged but little— only now and then, when the calls of the Church would permit. No fishing-trip ever contravened a religious or clerical duty. When on his angling excursions he was always ready and eager to catch men on the Sabbath-day. Mr. Irby Morgan, of Edgefield, a devoted friend, occasionally (189) 190 THE ANGLER AND ANGLING. twitted him with the playful remark, ''Dr. Green, 3^ou would have been made a Bishop long ago, but you are too rich and too fond of fishing." My opinion may be worth nothing in this matter; but I think my fiather, by his social influence, as far as it extended, elevated the angler and angling. For the last forty years the amateur fishermen of ITashville and vicinity have been the most high-toned, honor- able gentlemen. Dr. Green angled for game-fish only. His tackle was of the very best quality — a trim, lithe rod, a Meek-reel, a clean, silk-plat line, an improved min- now-bucket, and a basket. He was successful, not because he was patient — for patience never catches fish — but because he knew the habits of fish, knew w^here to find them, knew where to throw his line, and was energetic. He did not set out his poles, and then placidly wait for a bite, refreshing himself with a newspaper and a cigar for four or five hours. He knew that a live minnow, thrown into deep w\ater, is a wily fellow, and takes shelter under the nearest rock or leaf at the bottom ; and hence, every fifteen or twenty minutes. Dr. Green was manipu- lating his reel, or moving his pole just a little, to expose the bait. He knew how to fish; he was at- tentive, and spared no physical exertion; therefore, he caught fish. For the last fifteen or twenty years of his life his field-sport was almost confined to an annual excur- sion of two weeks in November. For a number of years 'a small, select party went on these trips, which su£:2:ested at last the formal ors^anization of tlie THE ANGLER AND ANGLING. 191 ^'jN'ashville and Edgefield Angling- Club," composed of gentlemen who, in the hazy month when the year is old and the woods are gold, hied away and pitched their tents by the deep-blue stream. Each laid his head on a pillow of leaves that were brown and red, and they awoke to the music a fisherman loves the best — the dick of the reel. Mr. C. E. Hillman, of i^ashville, the last secretary of the Club, has kindly tendered for my inspection the "Eecord Book." There may have been a tear in his eye when he handed me the book, sa3'ing, ^'Mr. Green, it makes me sad to open that book; I prize it very highly; do not let any one read it, and take good care of it." The first meeting of the Club was held June 21, 1856. The "Constitution and By-law^s," composed by Mr. Mcholas Hobson, is a neat, elaborate docu- ment of its kind. Among other pertinent rules, the use of strong drink and indelicate language is for- bidden while on their excursions. The signers of this Constitution are Messrs. N. Ilobson, A. L. P. Green, Jesse Thomas, Alexander Eall, John W. Terrass, Jo. G. Brown, C. E. Hillman, K. C. Mc- Xairy, John P. Ford, G. P. Smith, and William B. Ewine:. Seven of these have laid down the rod and reel, and passed over the river. I find beautiful tributes to the memories of three brother-anglers — Mr. Jo. G. Brown, Dr. John P. Ford, and Mr. Al- exander Fall. Since the death of Messrs. Green, Hobson, McISTairy, and Ewing, no meeting has been held. A sad answer is returned to the good people on Buflalo when they inquire, "Why does not the 192 THE ANGLER AND ANGLING. Club come down? " The names of Messrs. Anthony W. Johnson and William Petvvay appear as honor- ary members, in 1858. The Club never had but one president during its existence — Nicholas Hobson. R. C. McltTairy was the first, Alexander Fall the second, and Charles E. Hillman the last secretary. Dr. John P. Ford was the first, and Dr. G. P. Smith the last surgeon. Mr. Jesse Thomas was the treas- urer, and had no successor. So active was he in the discharge of his duties that the Club compliments him with a vote of thanks. In 1857 the Club presented a memorial to the Legislature of Tennessee, begging the protection of game in the State. This memorial was a pamphlet prepared w^ith a great deal of care and study by Dr. Green. In 1865 the Club meet, and first kneel in prayer, led by the chaplain. Dr. Green, who returns thanks to God for the preservation of their lives during the eventful and trying years of the war. Mr. C. E. Hillman has furnished me with the fol- lowing incident from his memories of the delectable excursions of the Club. Mr. Hillman does not fall down and worship a fine trout; but when the poles and the minnow-bucket are placed in the wagon, there is a w^onderful elasticity in his step and a strange fire in his eye. He says: '' We had pitched our tents on Bufi'alo Creek. There w^as a full attendance of the Club. Uncle 'Nick (Mr. Nicholas Hobson) and Mr. Mcl^airy had been drawling the net, some months before, in Turn- bull Creek, in quest of bait. Alexander Fall and I THE ANGLER AND ANGLING. 193 were carrying the buckets. Uncle ^N^ick, spying a large, four-pound trout in a small pocket just ahead, cried, 'Hillman, come take the staff, and help catch him ! ' Knowing that it was against the rule to take a large fish in a net, I hesitated; but. Uncle Kick being president, I reluctantly obeyed. The fish was caught, and the right of discovery gave him to Uncle Nick. "Night came; the supper was over; the light of the camp-fire fell on the faces of the Club as they sat in silence on their stools. The secretary, note- book in hand, was ready to receive the reports of the day's sport — the number of fish, the kind of fish, the size, and how taken; also, a general report of excursions daring the spring and summer. Uncle Nick came last; his reports condemned him; he had violated the law, and must be tried. Col. Anthonv W. Johnson was the judge -advocate; Dr. Green and Dr. Ford were the prosecuting attorneys; Mc- Nairy, Terrass, and I were the witnesses. Dr. Green made the opening speech, in which he stated 'the enormity of the oftense, aggravated by the offender being the president of the Club.' Dr. Ford, mild and gentle as a woman, followed. He was very ' sad that the president of the Club, and an old man, had set such an example before the younger members.' The sentence of the judge was that Dr. Ford, ac- cording to the enormity of the oftense, should ad- minister a reprimand. The Doctor advanced, and drew from his pocket a beautiful silver reel, with the date and name engraved upon it, and, in a few well-chosen ro.u\i\r]<.^,rrprirnrni{lcrI the president with 9 194 THE ANGLER AND ANGLING. it in the name of the Chib. Uncle Nick received the reel, while the tears streamed down his face; and I am candid in'^a»ffl5^min^tlmir tieve]^ saw as pretty a scene as that in my life. '' "'' "We also had a great deal of merriment in the trial of Dr. Green. The charge was that a large channel-cat that belonged to another member of the Club had been found among" his fish. "Dick, the negro servant of Uncle Nick, was tried for fishing on Sunday. The sentence was that he should fish for twenty-four hours in a tub of water, Avith a cotton line and a pin -hook." My father states that the punishment in this case did not cure Dick; that he was tried a^^alii^r the same ofifense, and the sentence was that he should go to an old mill on the river, said to be haunted, and stay from ten o'clock till daylight. Dick answered, when he heard the sentence, "You may kill me right now; I 'm not going to (Jat mill!" These excursions Avere not only a pleasure to those who went, but to thosCxrkA remained at home. Many were the side-splitting jokes that went round, and the fish-stories that gladdened the whole year that followed. I was never on one of these expeditions, for the very best of reasons to a modest boy — I was never invited — but I enjoyed with the keenest zest the fireside memories. Poor Dick! the war carried away his golden age. While a slave every wish was gratified, and he knew noth- ing but kindness from the hands of his old master. I saw him the last time, ragged and alone, sitting on the bank of the Cumberland, with his rod and line. THE ANGLER AND ANGLING. 195 The great conflict was going on, but Dick — true to his old love, oblivious of the rush of armies and the crash of fortunes — was placidly waiting for a bite. Dick has gone with the other fishermen; he has passed over the river. Mr. M. A. McClaugherty, one of my father's most intimate fishing-chums, writes: "Perhaps no man who has devoted a long life to the Church was so intimately know^n by all classes of people as Dr. Green; saint and sinner kuQw him alike. "Dr. Green's reputation as a fisherman was almost w^orld-wide. His annual fishing excursion became a part of his life. The year was not complete until the camp-fires had been burned. "It has been the high privilege of the writer to spend weeks and months with Dr. Green around the camp-fire. There alone could he be known in his native simplicity and greatness — Alike for courts, and camps, and senates fit. "Dr. Green, Mr. Seth Green, of ]N'ew York — now Fish Commissioner of that State — and a few other friends, all expert anglers, were enjoying a social dinner-party on the Eastern coast, when a commit- tee of three was appointed to propose a query — a fine silver fishing -reel to be awarded the party giving the most appropriate answer. The query propounded was, 'Which is the better side of the stream for fishing?' Dr. Green answered, 'That side on which the shadow of the fisherman is cast from the water.' The prize was awarded to Dr. Green, and the writer is now in possession of the 196 THE ANGLER AND ANGLING. identical reel, having been the happy recipient of the same as a present from the Doctor, a short time before his death." I have a letter from my father, written after his return from the fishing-trip of 1868. He writes: "My annual fishing-trip — well, it is over! The company consisted of W. K. Elliston, John Elliston, Mr. Porter, Mr. McClaugherty, Brother Warren, Mr. Seth Settle, and a negro by the name of Reuben, who went along in the capacity of cook. William and John Elliston carried guns; the rest of us car- ried fishing-tackle. We went on the cars to Wav- erly, and then took a wagon twelve miles to what is called the Whirl. We learned that Irby Morgan had been camping at the Lake for some weeks. We found Bufialo as clear as glass, and, as a matter of course, the chance was bad for angling, though we caught a goodly number of fish — mainly caught by Brother Warren and I, as we had more experience in fishing in clear water. We lived in good state, had a fine cook, tent, and appetites, and enjoyed our- selves finely. We had fish, squirrels, birds, ham, cofiTee, and the like. We brought home some good fish, but not as many as usual." Dr. E. T. Bainbridge writes: "I have now a fish- ing-rod — a present from Dr. Green — that I prize more highly than almost any article I possess, not for its intrinsic value, but in memory of the exalted estimation in which I held the generous donor. On one occasion I met Dr. Green on the banks of a stream (Sycamore Creek). A rather dissolute, prof- ligate character conceived a strong desire to possess THE ANGLER AND ANGLING. 197 an article of his beautiful tackle. On discovering the character of the person, he made an earnest though simple appeal, so admirably adapted to the occasion that the poor, abandoned creature's better feelings were aroused. He gave him the coveted ar- ticle, asking kindly, in remuneration, that he would 'desist from pursuing farther his disastrous course, and would attend the neighborhood Sabbath-school,' which he did afterward." We extract from a letter of Dr. J. G. Wilson. He writes: "IsTot a great while after I received license to preach I went with Dr. Green, in his bugg}^, to his quarterly-meeting at ITeely's Chapel, in Ruther- ford county, Tennessee. I greatly eujoyed the trip, from the sage, humorous, and trite remarks upon men aud things, which were interspersed among more sober counsels about the work of a preacher, which he was always ready, in a quiet, fatherly way, to impart to a younger brother. There was in at- tendance at this meeting an old lay Brother B., from another circuit, who, while not a miser, was very fond of making money. He was complaining to Dr. Green that he was beginning to feel the iniirmities of age creeping upon him. 'I tell you what you ought to do, Brother B.,' said the Doctor, 'and it will help to keep you fresh and young. There are plenty of fine trout in the creek near your home; you ought to get you some tackle, and spend a few hours occasionally along the creek catching them. It would tend to divert your mind and keep you from growing old too fast.' The good brother, who knew tbe Doctor's fondness for the sport, said, 198 THE ANGLER AND ANGLING. 'Well, I do think of it sometimes; but if I should be going to the creek with a k)t of fishing-poles on my shoulder, and should meet one of my neighbors going about his business, or looking after his farm, I 'd feel lazy and mean.' 'Yes,' was the reply, 'you can't go down to the creek in search of innocent sport and freshness of feeling; but, I^ll he bounds if anybody should tell you that there was at the bot- tom of one of those deep holes a silver bit^ you'd be found flat on your belly, on a puncheon, floating down and grabbing for it.' At night we all three occupied the same room — the Doctor and I in one bed, and Brother B. in the other. A conversation was kept up for some time, in the course of which the brother told how some man who owed him seven hundred dollars had run off down to Mississippi, and how he had followed him up and got the money. The conversation was then turned to the subject of religion, and the brother finally said that as he got older the greatest desire of his heart was to enjoy more of the life and power of religion. 'Lord help you, Brother B.!' said the Doctor. 'Suppose I should tell you that down in Georgia or Alabama there was a man who could put you in the way to get more of the life and pov/er of religion, do you think that you would follow him up as you did that man for the seven hundred dollars?' That closed the conversation." Bishop McTyeire has caught more men and tied them out than he has fishes, but we are glad to hear him, even in this connection. He says: "Dr. Green knew how to work, and also how to rest. He habit- THE ANGLER AND ANGLING. 199 ually devoted a week or ten days to an annual lish- ing-excursion, camping out. I dare say he was as well acquainted with the nature and habits of fish, and the best w^ay of catching them, as Simon Peter himself. I w^as holding a District Conference in the Valley of the Tennessee, near the mouth of Duck River. Said one, ' We have good preaching all the year round in Big Bottom; but once a year we have fine times, when Dr. Green comes a-fishing.' My host said, ' The horse you are on is the one the Doc- tor rides; for we send into the swamp to fetch him out to meeting. His boat is on Clear Lake to-day, tied to the shore J " Dr. Summers may have caught a few fish by ac- cident. We know that he is fond of red-snapper. He says: "Dr. Green was fond of fishing; could beat Izaak Walton in the gentle sport; had fished in most of the principal waters east of the Rocky Mountains; has left an unfinished work on fishing, which we hoped to edit for him. His fishing-excur- sions were made tributary to his benevolent efib rts to benefit those w^ith whom he came in contact, and over whom he wielded a weird influence; for he was a fisher of men as well as of fish, and thousands w^ere caught by him in the gospel net." He finds time during the General Conference to write about fishing. He says: "You and Frank had bad luck fishing, from the account you give of the matter. Well, it has been a long time since I was fishing. I have almost forgotten how it feels. I think I may have another chance some time." Well, it is time we were reeling in the lines and 200 THE ANGLER AND ANGLING. taking up the poles. We will call the roll of the Club. Jesse Thomas answers "Present!"' He fills his pipe with the best tobacco, and grows animated as he relates the charming history of the Club. He goes on a short angling-tour once a year, v;ith his sons James and Litton. Messrs. Hillman, Terrass, and Petway renew their youth occasionally on the banks of some neighboring streinii. Col. Anthony W. Johnson is not a haughty, proud-looking man as he walks through the streets of the city; but when he gets into that fishing-wagon, and drives through Edgefield, no grander or more imperious- looking man can be found than he. My father had some apprentices — Messrs. Fur- man, Akers, McClaugherty, Settle, and Fite — who are promising anglers. But the lines and poles are in, and the night has come down. God bless the old Club! Where cooling vapors breathe along the mead, The patient fisher takes his silent stand, Intent, his an^le trembling in his hand. 39. Literary — What the Brethren Say. |R. GREEN'S education did not entitle him to an honorable place among the gens cle lettres, and yet it may be lawful to speak of him as a literary man, since he read, wrote, preached, and delivered orations. There were features attachinsr to his literary character of which his most intimate friends were not aware. Most men have an idea that to study to profit they must have pen, ink, paper, table, and a library, and be alone. Dr. Green could study anywhere, with any surroundings, and indeed was a perpetual stu- dent; hence, he was always ready. His sermons, for the most part, were made of what he saw and heard by the way. His published articles were the productions of experience, natural wisdom, and genius. He read books, the very best books, but they w^ere subordinated and assimilated. What he learned by observation was first, what he read was second. He admired the landscape painting, but not more than the original. His images were bor- rowed from the works of the Master, not the imita- tions of the copyist. He studied his sermons more than one would sup- 9^^ (201) 202 LITERARY — WHAT THE BRETHREN SAY. pose. He told me that he general!}' had a sermon in his mind twenty-four hours before preaching. On the street, in the social circle, on the cars, he could prepare a discourse, without any seeming ab- straction of mind. His published articles were re- w^ritten, if time would allow, the second time. He prepared three manuscripts of his "Alpine Hunter." Bishop Paine wu'ites: "Dr. Green read much dur- ing the first fifteen years of his ministry, especially standard works in theology and in biblical and Eng- lish literature. Indeed, he always kept his mind lubricated with good and useful reading. He trav- eled a good deal, mingled with the better classes of society, was a shrewd observer of men and things, had a vast amount of common sense, yet combin- ing with the practical the faculty of fancy in a high degree. The two factors which gave individuality and prominence to his intellectual character were thoughtfulness and decisiveness: these elements are essential in forming a wise man and a great leader; and such he was." Bishop McTyeire says, " He was no mean writer, and contributed much to the Church -press. With the advantage of education on his side he could have produced papers equal to Longstreet or Chris- topher ^orth, in descriptive power, in humor, in originality and moral raciness. His school and his school-masters ^vere circumstances and contempo- rary men. He read Clarke's Commentary through, volume by volume, soon after it was republished in this country. I never heard him use an incident or illustration taken out of ancient or modern history. LITERARY WHAT THE BRETHREN SAY. 203 His food for thought and material for illustration were furnished by observation and taken out of common life. Without losing his identity he ab- sorbed much knowledge from the atmosphere he was in." Dr. J. W. Hanner says, ''I was reading Shakes- peare when Dr. Green found me in my Edgefield study. He spoke of the book in a way that aston- ished me. He did not seem to appreciate it — won- der if he had read it? We agreed that 'Paradise Lost ' was overrated by literary folks. According to our thought, Milton is great on angels, devils, rivers, and serpents; but we heard a preacher surpass him on this line of things. But Shakespeare, with his intrinsic knowledge of human nature — not to like Shakespeare I The fact is. Dr. Green seemed to know what ought to be in books before reading them. The more books one reads the more one thinks him half right. He was not bookish in his science, mechanics, or in his grammar." Dr. Hanner springs the inquiry as to whether Dr. Green ever read Shakespeare. I never heard him say in so many words that he had, and have only circumstantial evidence bearing on the question. I remember an old copy of Shakespeare in my father's library, which had on one of the fly-leaves his auto- graph. The book was well thumbed, and supple in the back, and bore evidences of familiar treatment. Dr. Green did not admire Shakespeare. Why? Not because of its want of wisdom, but because of its numerous indelicate passages. Perhaps if he had read it more, and at a time of life when his 204 LITERARY — WHAT THE BRETHREN SAY. piety was not so stern, his prejudices would have been overcome by the charming naturalness of the book. For the reason that I have stated, a copy of Byron never found its way into my father's library. Dr. Green read books, but was very careful not to bore kind-hearted people with a synopsis of them. He had not the vanity of some men in this partic- ular. He did not pride himself on the bare reading of any book, and yet, when I was only fifteen years of age, he hired me to read certain books in his li- brary, which I did, but felt compensated without the premium. The Rev. William Witcher has furnished us the following: " His literary life was like his physical — well-grown. His studies seem to have embraced the whole circle of human knowleds^e. The most intricate subtilties of philosophy and the deeper mysteries of theological learning were familiar to him. He was a considerable poet, but did not often turn his genius loose in that direction." Whether Mr. Witcher's estimate be literally true or not does not affect the result. He thought so, and the matter stands thus: If it is just all that a man of great learning can do to impress the multi- tude with his learning, how much greater is the man who can do this without learning ? Dr. E. A. Young, who has a high regard for literature, says: ''Dr. Green was not pedantic. He made no ado about books. It is said he was never known to quote from a book or an author hy name in his life. I have seen him sit in my ofiice for two hours before preaching, pulling down commentaries LITERARY — WHAT THE BRETHREN SAY. 205 and examining the text. E"ow, thought I, we shall hear what Wesley, or Coke, or Clarke, or Benson has said; but he only gave the results of study. For this reason some of his brethren thought that he did not have many books, or having them, he did not read them. A few weeks spent at 'Green- land' always corrected this mistake. He was well acquainted with Christian theology as taught by^ Arminius, Wesley, Fletcher, and liichard Watson. Canon law and Church government were favorite studies. He was fond of metaphysics — read Ed- wards, Bledsoe, and Whedon. He would employ his rest-days through many weeks studying Com- modore Maury's works on Physical Geography, and Darwin's 'Origin of Species,' and 'Descent of Man;' but he was not a Darwinian. He read all the best English poets and modern British essayists. He took travels and voyages in the place of novels and romances. I^early all our Church-periodicals came to his house. I state these facts in justice to the character of Dr. Green, and because I know them to be true. Scarcely any country-home in this land was better supplied with books than 'Green- land.'" Dr. Summers was my father's literary Mentor. He says: "Dr. Green courted the Muses, though he found them somewhat coy. But his thoughts were wont to run in a rhythmic form, and though he did not concern himself much with the laws of versifi- , cation, yet we have sometimes vend a whole page of his blank verse, which he would bring to us for correction, without detecting a single metrical error. 206 LITERARY — WHAT THE BRETHREN SAY. He wrote much for our periodicals. Some of his papers, especially those on the Aborigines of our country, reminiscences of old times, articles on Church aftairs, etc., are worthy of preservation in book form. He was rich in anecdote, and no one could tell a story better than Dr. Green." This fellow 's of exceeding honesty, And knows all qualities, with a learned spirit, Of human things. 40. The Commander. []R. GREE^ was never at any time thrown off his balance. Circumstances of pleas- ure or pain never brought rhapsodies or despair. His noble spirit, casemated with love and trust, was proof against the invaders, lire, flood, and pestilence. On the subject of self-pos- session, which was one of my father's prominent traits, a number of friends come to my relief. First, we insert a communication from Dr. J. B. Walker, who writes both in love and in truth. He says: *'One of the most marked of Dr. Green's charac- teristics was calmness and self-possession. This was by no means the product of stoicism; for he was not only susceptible of profound emotion, but act- ually in hearty sympathy with all that interested his fellow-men. We have seen him exhibit this self-control in matters great and small, not only when forewarned, and therefore forearmed, but under sudden surprise, showing that it was not an assumed but an habitual discipline of mind. I re- member once dining with the Doctor and several ministers, at the house of Mr. C, of Tennessee. There was quite a company, and animated and (207) 208 THE COMMANDER. cheerful conversation going forward, in which, ac- cording to his wont, he was bearing an interesting part. I remember that he was neatly dressed in men's summer black suit. A servant-girl, who was handing around the table a large bowl of milk, through awkwardness or carelessness, stumbled and spilt the contents of the bowl on the shoulder and around the skirts of the Doctor's coat. Most men would have suddenly drawn to one side, sprang up, or said something to express their displeasure; not so the Doctor. He carried up the fork to his mouth, and kept up the smooth stream of his talk without a visible ripple in his words or in his face. This was most polite, and considerate of the poor, fright- ened servant, and of the embarrassment of the la- dies of the family, who were naturally distressed at the awkward occurrence. '' We have heard him, on great occasions, address- ing vast audiences, when he deeply felt the dread re- sponsibility of the hour; but he stood as straight and as firm as a shaft of marble, and, without the shiver of a nerve or the tremor of a tone, he would calmly proceed to the profoundest and nicest analy- sis of human character, and lay down the grand principles on wdiich eternal destiny hinged. At such times he suggested the idea of some great sur- geon performing a most difficult operation, cutting within a hair's-breadth of some vital organ, but so perfect a master of his art that he cut with the calm- ness of self-possession. "In the supreme congress of the Church, in the greatest emergencies of the times that passed over THE COMMANDER. 209 him, his self-possession was equal to the occasion, and he was able to combine the most oracular wis- dom with the most persuasive affability of manner. This admirable mental trait gave him great power, not only in possessing him of his utmost resources, not only in securing the best expression of his con- victions, but in the conHdence which it inspired in others in the soundness and accuracy of his posi- tions. If he had been commander of a vessel in a storm, or the general of an army in battle, this ele- ment of mental constitution would have come out in conspicuous relief, and would have won him fame." On this point Dr. Young says: "Nothing seemed to disturb liim. His calm courage was equal to his Christian patience. If I were an artist I could paint with equal ease Dr. Green instructing a com- pany of stupid backwoods sinners, or delivering an argument against the opinions of an Irish general assembly. Concerning non-essentials he was as pli- ant as a willow-wand; on great principles he stood firm as a rock." We make an easy and natural transfer from the calm and the seJf-possessed to Dr. Green as a com- mander, a cabinet-ofiicer, a camp-meeting conductor, and a manager of individuals. We quote from the admirable letter of Dr. Walker again : " It has been said that some men were born to command. This inherent ruling power in some consists in a power to inspire fear, to awe men into obedience; in others, by a deeper and subtler cun- ning than average men possess; in others, by hold- 210 THE COMMANDER. ing out to inferiors the hope of advantage by obe- dience. These are not the highest elements of the ruling art. The model ruler not only inspires respect for wisdom and integrity — he not only awes by a certain force df will, but, by gentle, affable, and con- ciliatory manners, he wins affection and secures obedience in response to love. Dr. Green, along with great force and persistence of will, possessed the winning way; and the reins of power in his hands seemed silken, and never chafed nor irritated those over whom they were held. " It was interesting to see and hear, at a great camp-meting, how softly and successfully he man- aged the young preachers, placing the most efficient workers in the altar and the prayer-meeting. As the hours of the night would wear away, and some would be fagging with weariness and hoarseness, and inclined to get about the camp-fires or tables to refresh and talk over the incidents of the work at the altar, without telling them to retire, the Doctor would say, 'Brethren, were you thinking of calling by the altar before you go to bed, to see how things are getting on?' 'O yes! certainly they were go- ing.' He w^ould say he thought it would be well, but not to work too long, as he thought they needed rest. He got the work done; but those wdio did it thought it purely spontaneous, and on their own motions. How wise was this, and how pleasant to those under authority! — like the great natural proc- esses, where we witness results of tremendous power, without noise or friction. "Few men of our acquaintance more generally THE COMMANDER. 211 had their way, carried their points, or were more successful, and none ever did so with less offense. It is a great pleasure w^hen a leader can secure a good- humored acquiescence in his plans; it ends the op- position and secures a permanent victory." Perhaps more than any other living man. Dr. J. W. Hanner was associated with my father in the Bishop's cabinet. The Doctor furnishes some inter- esting memories of the arcanum ecclesiasticum. He says : "My first meeting in the cabinet with Dr. Green was in Huntsville. We went from N'ashville in his carriage. Being a new Presiding Elder, representing 'N'ashville District, he asked whom I thought of as a nomination for a certain station difficult to fill — too weak for a married man, and ought not to have a single man. I told him that I did not like to re- veal, lest he might forestall me. ' ^o,' said he, ' I will help you.' Then I told him, very frankly, all about it. ' Well, that is first-rate,' said he; 'could not be better.' "Bishop Andrew did not come to Conference, but by letter appointed your father to preside; never knew a Bishop to do that before or since. One or two of the brethren, who desired the place, did not seem to like the Bishop's way of doing this thing, 'II n' imj^orte 'pas' He was also Presiding Elder — had poAver to fill his own District according to his wish. Judge of my surprise when he proposed to put my man down on one of his own circuits. He showed the elders how proper it was; no one ob- jected but myself. He dipped his pen into the ink, 212 THE COMMANDER. and was about to write him down. 'Don't do that, if you please,' said I. 'Why not?' he answered. 'Because there is a special call for him at another jDlace, and no one else will do as well.' 'We can find another man for that place.' 'I think not.' He made as if he would put him down. 'Stop! do you remember our conversation on the way hither?' 'Yes.' 'Well, then, put him down, if you wish.' He looked at me, and passed on to another. When my turn came my man went down to the station without a word. [It is evident that the intention of Dr. Green was to hold the man for Dr. Hanner.] " Many years afterward, in a cabinet meeting at Lebanon, we discussed men and places some while. We both wanted the same man. At length I said, 'Take him; let me have G .' '^^"0, you cannot have him.' 'Give me L .' ^l^o, I want him myself.' ' Then give me C .' ' No, he is my man, too.' Said I, 'Bishop, how many preachers belong to Dr. Green mfee simple? and who are they?' Said the Bishop, 'He and you can fix the appoint- ments, and one of us must have leave to go, as it is getting late. Come, come John, one might as well be put in a strait-jacket ! ' There Avas a good Bishop [Paine]. He was once a member of the Tennessee Conference. Everybody loves him. It was all fun- religious fun. The Doctor crossed the room, and said, 'Hanner, give me a chaw of tobacco!' I like human people." Dr. Green was a commander not only of very large bodies, but when an opportunity offered ho used his skill in reconciling very obscure parties. THE COMMANDER. 213 He not only removed mountains^, but searched out small grains of sand that grated and disturbed so- cial action. An incident furnished by Mrs. S. F. Johnson is aprojoos: "Once while attending a camp- meeting where large crowds were fed by the tenters, Dr. Green grew weary at the stand, and wound his w^ay around to a cook-shed to warm his feet. Find- ing the cook in a rather bad humor, he thought to change her feelings by conversing with her about the good meeting. 'Well, aunty, are we not having a good meeting?' 'Ah^ 3Iassa, de white folks is, but 'taint (loin' me no good; I don't have no chance to 'joy it; I's here all de time cooking ocer d is fire!' 'But, aunty,' said the Doctor, 'you are helping to carry on the meetiug as much as any of us. Some of us are here to preach, some to sing, some to pray, and some to keep up the tent and feed the multi- tude. I could not preach and pray much if I did not have somethiug to eat. We all have to eat, and if you did not cook for us the rest of us could not do our part. You see, aunty, the work has to go on in every part, and you are doing your part. You can pray for us while you are cooking, and the Lord is pleased to make all his servants liappy while per- forming their part of the work.' The old aunty saw the point, was in a good humor, and from that time on enjoyed the meeting." My father was jealous of his commission, and even when sick at the Hot Springs, as a faithful subordinate, was looking after the interests of his great Captain. He writes to me from Hot Springs, April n, 1874: "I have secured a lot, aud on last 214 THE COMMANDER. Sunday named the matter to the congregation. The church will cost some three thousand dollars, and I think the amount will soon be raised. The preacher in charge here is a young man from Flor- ida, a good business man, w^ho loves his w^ork, and will accomplish good. I have become helping preacher in the Hot Springs Charge, and assistant Presiding Elder, as Dr. Andrew Hunter has written to me that I must hold certain quarterly-meetings. I preach every Sabbath at eleven o'clock, and have preached several times at night in the dining-room of the hotel." 41. The Geeen Memoeial. [HE "Green Memorial" was technically, or officially, styled the "Tennessee Confer- ence Memorial," for reasons patent to all versed in Methodist nsage. When the call was made in the General Conference of 1866 for memorials, this paper was presented by the Ten- nessee Conference through its delegation. Those acquainted with the jpre-conference history of this paper know why it was called the "Green Memo- rial." It might very appropriately have been called the " Green -McTyeire Memorial," borrowing its name from its history, which I propose to furnish in brief. During the last year of the war between the States, Dr. (Bishop) McTyeire and Dr. Green were thrown together frequently in Montgomery, Alaba- ma, where the former was preacher in charge. The Southern Conferences north of the Tennessee River had been for several years in a state of collapse, owing to the presence of large armies and the general demoralization that attends military rule. Even the Conferences in the Gulf States were very much deranged. (21.^) ■ 216 THE GREEN MEMORIAL. These two wise men in Montgomery were looking ahead, thinking, and praying, and planning. They surmised that the end of the war was not far, and that the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, would "come up from the wilderness," not with a shout, "as an army with banners," but depressed in spirits and crippled in finances. "Now," thought they, "is the time to strike, when the old ruts are not so vis- ible, when prejudices are not so strong, while the Church is starting out npon a new mission and into a new era of its history." These wise men foresaw, appreciated the opportunity, and prepared to march in. They knew, just what men of brains have known for all time, that a class of men — innocent men — humanitarians by virtue of calling and age, are devoted to old land-marks, and morbidly oppose any thing that has the strange ring of an innova- tion; men who would still be nsing flint knives, but steel has been forced upon them; who glory not in that which is wise and that which is best, but in that which is old^ simply because it is old. The men at Montgomer}^ anticipated the opposition of this class, and hence they selected this most opportune time to act — the revolutionary period. There they stood, with one mind and one heart, looking over the land like St. Nicholas in the picture, purposing to give to the small and great children of the Church some happy and needed reforms. The Me- morial was talked about, then talked over, then taken to pieces, then criticised as to word and idea, then put together, until it was at last evolved — the most elaborate Church-paper ever produced. This, in THE GREEN MEMORIAL. 217 brief, is the pre-conference history of the Green, alias Tennessee Conference, Memorial. It would require a whole pamphlet to give the speeches for and against this Memorial in the Ten- nessee Conference and in the General Conference. "We will throw a few items together in as condensed a form as possible. We copy in substance from the official record of the General Conference convened at New Orleans in 1866. Dr. Green was on the Committee on Books and Periodicals, Dr. T. O. Summers was chairman of the Committee on Revisal, and Dr. (Bishop) Mc- Tyeire was chairman of the special Committee on Lay Representation. Among the memorials pre- sented was one by Dr. Green to the Tennessee An- nual Conference, and referred by that body to the General Conference, and a counter memorial from the Columbia District, which were read and referred to the Committee on Changes of Economy. The leading propositions of the Memorial were: Lay Representation, the Extension of the Pastorate, a Bishop for each Conference, and the Church Con- ference. The proposition to elect a Bishop for each Conference f\xiled, and, in casting about for some- thing to supply the vacancy, the District Conference was suggested. This is an item of Church -history that has not before come to light. The District Conference was not exactly an accident, but sprang into life from the ashes of the Conference Bishop. The inauguration of the District Conference was violently opposed by a number of the old preachers, who, remembering the very unsatisfactory and de- 10 218 THE GREEN MEMORIAL. fective District Conferences held about 1824, sup- posed that a like body was in contemplation. This was just an honest mistake, which the present use- ful and happy Conference has proved. It is but justice to all parties to state that Dr. (Bishop) McTyeire, after mature deliberation, op- posed the election of Conference Bishops, and that Dr. Green himself was satisfied that it would not have been for the best. The Memorial sailed through upon an uncertain and disturbed sea. Even the Delegates from Dr. Green's own Conference (the Tennessee) were di- vided on the most important proposition — lay rep- resentation. Of the eleven Delegates seven voted against it. However, upon second thought, Dr. S. D. Baldwin changed his vote from the negative to the affirmative, making five for and six against lay representation in the Tennessee delegation. Dr. Green's reforms were a success, not through any occult maneuvering or electioneering, but by virtue of their intrinsic excellence. I never knew Dr. Green to nurse his reputation by caressing the brethren. He did not inquire an unknown brother's name, and storm him the next moment with a cor- dial recognition and inquiries as to the health of his relatives. He took advantage of no man's sim- plicity to magnify himself. The growlers did not follow him unless they had " an ax to grind." As he did not nurse his reputation, therefore he was bold to advance any project for the good of the Church, unterrified by any opposition that an inno- vation might arouse. THE GREEN MEMORIAL. 219 Bishop McTyeire was familiar with the Memorial in its germ, stalk, and flower. We copy from his admirable funeral-discourse: "Dr. Green's position in favor of lay delegation, and subsequently in fa- vor of improved facilities for ministerial education, and the manner of his advocacy, were fixir expres- sions of the order of his mind. He was not sensi- tive about consistency when material circumstances had changed. While a Conference was little more than a meeting of preachers to return statistics and receive appointments, he saw no use in a lay element there; but when the Chnrch had broadened and complicated its operations, as a consequent of suc- cess, and had taken hold of the press, and of schools and colleges, and other kindred agencies, then he accepted the developed necessity, and was for calling lay counsel and cooperation." I submitted this paper to the inspection of Dr. T. 0. Summers, knowing that, besides a thorough knowledge of the history of the Memorial, his po- sition as chairman of an important committee gave him large opportunity to favor or oppose. He has kindly furnished me with a chain of memories, which I subjoin as an illuminator: "Dr. G.reen had much to do with the emendations in the Book of Discipline. His even -balanced mind and practical judgment eminently fitted him for the work of a Church-legislator. He had re- spect for ^ancient things,' but no superstitious ven- eration for them ' simply because they ivere old.' He was not disposed to ride to mill with the grist in one end of the bas^, and stones in the other to bal- 220 THE GREEN MEMORIAL. ance it. When the time came for the casting away of stones he knew it, and cast the stones away. A great deal of irrelevant matter, dead-letter laws, and the like, had accumulated in the Discipline during the history of the Church, and it was desirable to have these eliminated. Many thought it sacrilegious to touch an item of it, especially if it bore the im- primatur of Wesley or Asbury. They did not re- flect that if these venerable fathers of the Church were now living they would unhesitatingly cancel rules that were out of date and inoperative. With the encouragement of Dr. Green, I prepared a paper settins: forth such of these matters as we considered out of place in the Discipline, and it was presented to the General Conference w^hich met in Nashville in 1858. Dr. Green was a member of the Commit- tee on Revisal, and advocated the adoption of the suggestions made in that paper. The new rule which I prepared, with the Doctor's approval, for the abolition of the probationary system was, how- ever, laid on the table. We were surprised to find among many members of this Conference a tena- cious regard for that inconsistent and unscriptural policy. Wesley never intended the probation to which persons were subjected in order to member- ship in one of his Societies to apply to membership in the Church. He knew very well that in apos- tolic days any one who would take the threefold vow of baptism was received at once by that rite into the communion of the Church. Kot a day's delay is anywhere intimated in The Acts or Epistles of the Apostles. Dr. Green Avas very decidedly op- THE GREEN MEMORIAL. 221 posed to it, as he had observed its mischievous oper- ations all through his life. But though the rule was not eliminated from the Discipline in 1858, we secured its removal in 1866. "At that Conference Dr. Green, Bishop McTyeire, and Thomas 0. Summers, were appointed a commit- tee to make a thorough revision of the Discipline. We held many conferences for that purpose, and with no small labor prepared a thorough digest of the work; had copies printed to put into the hands of the members of the next General Conference, which met at Memphis in 1870, and had the satisfaction of seeing it adopted with scarcely any change. " It fell to my lot to prepare the Forms for Receiv- ing Members into the Church, for the Laying of Corner-stones, and for the Dedication of Churches, and to indicate suitable changes in the Burial and Ordination Services; but Dr. Green gave his views on all these subjects, and made numerous and judi- cious suggestions. I remember that we were em- barrassed as to the manner in which we should frame the formula of the Reception and Recogni- tion of Members. Dr. Green urged that there were certain old people in the Church who would not be satisfied unless the candidates expressed a desire to flee from the wrath to come and be saved from their sins. But it seemed incongruous and superfluous to ask a man if he had that desire when he had just assumed the baptismal vows; I was not willing to stultify myself by so framing the formula. But on coming together again I suggested the form as it now stands: 'Dearly beloved, you profess to have a 222 THE GREEN MEMORIAL. desire to flee from the wrath to come and to be saved from your sins; you seek the fellowship of the people of God to assist you in working out your salvation; I therefore demand of you, Do you sol- emnly, in the presence of God and this congrega- tion, ratify and confirm the promise and vow of re- pentance, faith, and obedience, contained in the bap- tismal covenant?' ''The Doctor was delighted with the proposed form, and did much to secure its adoption. ''Dr. Green also did much to secure the incorpo- ration of lay representation into our General and Annual Conferences; the introduction of District and Church Conferences; the extension of the pas- toral term; and other beneficial changes in the economy of the Church. He favored the multipli- cation of Bishops, and other changes, but ceased to press them when he saw that the Connection was not prepared for them. He had the sagacity of a statesman, the boldness of a reformer, and at the same time the caution and prudence of a judicious ruler in the Church of God." 4.2. Home, Humoe, and Business. R. GREE^ was himself at home — satisfied, cheerful, and coramunicative. From 1831 to 1857 his residence was in J^ashville, where he delighted to entertain the hosts that came. He removed to White's Creek, five miles north of the city, where he opened a large house to satisfy the demands of his great heart in entertaining the itinerant preachers and his numer- ous acquaintances far and near, and that he might at times gather his children and grandchildren about him. He was a host after the old Southern idea — not stifi^*, and strained, and suspicious of im- position, but natural and cordial. He did not annoy his guests with such excessive attention as to run them away — was not " hospitable with a vengeance." He recognized the freedom, of a friend under his own roof. He did not cross-question lifs guests if they failed to gorge themselves at his table; hence, energetic persons, who have wills, ways, and pur- poses, were anxious to come back. I do not think my father's visitors were anxious to get home just to rest. He was not a continuous conversationist, but was (223) 224 HOME, HUMOR, AND BUSINESS. silent at times; his judgment had to do with the matter and the time for conversation. He never talked over people nor under them. At home with his family he would not, if he could possibly avoid it, even refer to any thing sad or disagreeable; if he did, it was premised and concluded with suggestions of relief. He did not save his sallies of humor for popular occasions. Just any happy item that he gathered up on a preaching-tour was served up in his best style at the first meeting of the family. In this connection we are pleased to insert from the pen of Mrs. S. K. Johnson, of Cornersville, Tennessee: '' In the social circle Dr. Green often drew largely on the sleeping hours, and could hold the circle spell-bound just as long as he chose to do so. "One winter night, after the Sabbath exercises had closed, and we were cozily seated in our parlor, a morsel of mischief entered his head. My husband was a plain, matter-of-fact man, and scarce of wood that night; enough at the pile, but not enough cut. We had about enough lying in the corner for the morning fire. Dr. Green discovered that Mr. John- son was trying to save that icood; but he kept talk- ing in one of his most jocular veins, and occasionally would say, 'Lay on another one of your sticks, Brother Johnson.' Mr. Johnson, unconscious of what the Doctor was driving at, would look as if counting the sticks, and very reluctantly lay one more stick on the dying fire. That was fun for the Doctor; hence, he kept us and some of the visiting friends present profoundly interested until the last stick of Mr. Johnson's morning-wood had been cin- HOME, HUMOR, AND BUSINESS. 225 ., XXWXTXV^i., dered, and the old clock on the mantel struck twelve, but Dr. Green was not yet sleepy — however, we all retired. The next morning he told the joke with a zest peculiar to himself. We all enjoyed it, and none more than Mr. Johnson. " Dr. Green's table-talk was an intellectual repast. We could not but grow wiser and better by his visits to our house, where he frequently put up. I feel honored in contributing to the comfort of so great and good a man." Referring to Dr. Green's social character, the Rev. William Witcher writes: " Dr. Green's success in so- cial life was wonderfully happy. He was the charm of the social circle. While anecdotes and witty sayings were always on his tongue, I never knew him to compromise his gentility or Christianity." Bishop McTyeire had ample opportunity to meas- ure the social character of Dr. Green. He says: "He had friends, and enjoyed friendship; and here was a marked feature of his character to one who studied it. His wealth of friendship was more than a luxury — he utilized it. He sought to please men for their good unto edification. There was a pur- pose and a method here. His rare social qualities and quick insight into character gave him a power of making friends that had no limit except oppor- tunity. He made friends of people that they might acquaint themselves with his Master and be his friends. How often have we seen him studying the points of approach, and conciliating and drawing near to one, and establishing confidence, that he might lead that person into the Church and to the 10* 226 HOME, HUMOR, AND BUSINESS. Saviour! A personal attachment once established, there was force in the entreaty, ' Come thou, and go with us!' If this purpose and method took some of the sentiment out of friendship, it put sanctity into it." My father was a fine natural mechanic, and de- lighted in making little repairs about home. His jobs were as well finished as the work of any pro- fessional carpenter. He held in his own personal right a hoe and a pruning-knife, and right energet- ically and understandingly did he ply them until his strength failed and disease banished him from his home. Dr. R. A. Young, speaking of his home-life, says: "Dr. Green was exceedingly fond of his family, though he rarely ever spent one whole week with them. He laid out thousands of dollars to build a home, and labored for years to adorn and beautify it; but he never neglected the vineyard of the Lord. As Dr. Green was not a farmer, what did he want with so many acres? and as he had, in his old age, only two in family, why did he construct so large a house? His well-known purpose was that he might have all his children and grandchildren with him every summer. They were able to scatter to the ends of the earth, but he preferred that they should flock to ' Greenland.' Dr. Deems once vis- ited this place and spent a few days. As he was leaving the front gate, it is said he looked back and remarked, in his facetious way, 'Risky business for the old poet to die. Heaven must be a wonder- fully happy place if it is better than this.' " HOME, HUMOR, AND BUSINESS. 227 My father's beloved old friend. Dr. Thomas B. Sargent, writes to the Baltimore Episcojpal Methodist: " This letter is written from the home of Dr. A. L. P. Green. Here we have blue-grass, corn, sheep (I came in at the end of the shearing), cattle, and other appurtenances of a Tennessee farm of three hundred acres, with a spacious brick house, in a beautiful valley, and more than one 'prophet's chamber;' while the children and grandchildren of 'Parson G-reen' in summer fill the dwelling, as choice plants surround the table." Dr. D. C. Kelley was a frequent guest, and knew all the penetralia of the home-life. He says: "In the family. Dr. Green never seemed to govern; yet his wishes — imparted in such a way that we who were intimate in his family knew not how — were all -controlling. Dr. Hargrove has said that 'his life had been a sunbeam.' This was exquisitely true of his home-life. There was nothing somber; no repression of childish or youthful joys; his chil- dren wanted no sinful, outside pleasures, for all healthful recreations — toys, games, music -books, conversation — were found at home." My father was a business man — not in the sense of a wily speculator; he was simply a level-headed man — did not originate or entertain any visionary schemes. While he was a successful business man in accumulating property, his conjectural wealth, like that of all men reputed rich, was far in excess of the real. His liberality was always greater than his means, because he gave not according to what he had, but according to what people thought he had. 228 HOME, HUMOR, AND BUSINESS. I have known him to promise or subscribe amounts of money to charitable objects that his agent (Mr. T. D. Fite) could not cash twelve months after the date of the subscription. His kindness of heart led him to indorse for many personal friends, which resulted in a vast debt that will require more than a decade to pay. A few years before his death, apprehensive that his disease would prove fatal, he called his sons and sons-in-law together at the old home on Yine street. He desired to give the remnant of his days to the Church, and, that his mind and heart might not be diverted, transferred the management of his property, reserving the right to indorse only for the Southern Methodist Publishing House, which he did till his death. Bishop McTyeire, on this head, says: "Dr. Green was a rich man! This exceptional fact among preachers will bear an allusion. Few can be trusted with wealth, though many are willing for the exper- iment. A little property draws them out and draws them off after more. The care of it distracts the mind, and the possession of it divides the heart too much. It was not so wdth Dr. Green. You might be with him and work with him through a pro- tracted-meeting season, and never fin d out that he was wealthy. He never talked money, or houses, or lands, or bonds. If there were losses, no lamenta- tion was made over them. You looked in vain for any evidence of a distracted mind or divided heart in his devotions or his sermons. There was no hur- rying home to business, no neglect of the Church's w^ork for his own. His estate grew silently, and by HOME, HUMOR, AND BUSINESS. 229 judicious and quiet investment. I have seen other preachers more flustered with the management of a few hundred dollars and a few acres of land than this man was by a large estate. " In one respect his reputed fortune was damag- ing to the Church. To quote his own expression, he Mvorked for nothing, found himself, and paid for the privilege.' These thirty years he has not received for his ministerial services an annual amount equal to that which an honest day-laborer makes by breaking stones for the street. He might say to the Church of Tennessee, as Paul did to that of Corinth: 'Forgive me this wrong!' He did not, however, dry up the sources from whic^h he did not draw. Though refusing 'to be burdensome' to the Church, he never waived the right of other minis- ters to a maintenance. Often the small amount paid to him was turned over to the circuit- preacher who was short of his allowance. Lack of pay did not cause slackness of labor. He acted as though his bread depended on his salary, and his salary on his work. He went far, and was from home much; he started and arrived at midnight hours; he waited on the river-bank for the uncer- tain steam-boat, or took the cars at the nearest sta- tion; he traveled in rough ways, and put up with coarse fare; in heat and in cold he traveled, planned, organized, preached at meetings, and gave heed to special calls and appointments. ISTor was it perfunc- tory. His heart was in it, and he threw his whole strength into it; and this he continued to do until a wasting disease quite prostrated him. This good 230 HOME, HUMOR, AND BUSINESS. comes of it incidentally: he cut off all occasion from them who desire occasion. There are those who believe, or affect to believe, that preaching is pro- fessional, and that we seek not to be supported that we m-ay preach, but to preach that we may be sup- ported. Here is one whose circumstances enabled him to furnish a vindication of his brethren." It much would please him That of his fortunes you would make a staff To lean upon. 43. Dr. Geeen and the Wae. iO say that any sane man, living in the State of Tennessee, with a knowledge of pass- ing events, was neutral during the late war between the States, is to affirm an ab- surdity. We do not mean neutrality as to overt acts, but as to sympathy. I neither heard of nor saw that neutral man. Dr. Green warmly espoused the Southern cause. "What was the preponderating influence — the per- petuation of slavery, the independence of the Con- federacy, or just the wish to "live and die with his own people" — we know not. All we know is that he was Southern, very Southern, in his feelings and in his views. He delivered a number of lectures on the Crisis. I did not hear any of them, but under- stood that there was in them nothing inflammatory or abusive; that he administered advice, cool, prac- tical, and honest — just what the people needed at the time. I am not trying to excuse when I say that he delivered these lectures at the earnest solic- itation of his friends, and he intended them for the moral as well as the political good of his hearers. At that time (1861) the people were wild with en- (231) 232 DR. GREEN AND THE WAR. thusiasm; there was no middle ground; the status of every man was fixed. Notwithstanding the minds and hearts of the multitude were all ab- sorbed in the vital issues of the day, Dr. Green car- ried no slavery or Confederate independence into the pulpit. During the brightest and darkest days of the struggle his sermons were clear of the ^'things of Cesar." He kept his commission as a minister of righteousness unstained. After the fall of Fort Donelson, in February, 1862, which necessitated the evacuation of N"ash- ville by the Confederates, Dr. Green and his wife and youngest daughter, joined the great hegira of fugi- tives southward — which flight no man has ever de- scribed to this day. They who were in Nashville on that memorable Sabbath (February 16) will never see the like again. At different points in the Confederate lines Dr. Green remained, and hoped, and suffered, until the " surrender." The interest he had manifested in the Southern cause, the active part that he had taken in the division of the Church and the prosecution of the Church suits, had made him odious (so he thought) to the extreme war-men of the North, and would insure him, if he remained in Nashville, a certain residence in a Northern prison. Such were his habits that a few months of confinement would have destroyed his life. While in the Confederacy he was appointed a chaplain, but did not serve be- cause of ill health. While with the troops in West- ern Virginia, to which division of the army his son Frank belonged, the fare and exposure produced a DR. GREEN AND THE WAR. 233 fever and camp-itch, from which, combined with chilblain and tetter, he never recovered. To a man who had been so active all his life, just the tedium of the war must have been a great sorrow. He writes to a young lady friend — Miss Annie Kansom: "■July 2, 1864. We are now within two miles of Robinson Springs, and about ten miles from the city (Montgomery, Alabama), staying with a gentleman by the name of Jackson, who is quite a noble — I use this term in no offensive sense. He is not only well educated and intelligent, but is as liberal as a prince. He is high-toned and honorable, and knows what to do with his wealth. He and his family do all they can to make my wife and daughter comfortable. "I w^rite some; but paper is scarce, and I have to be sparing with the stock on hand. I have been fishing a few times, with fine success. I spend my time among my books; the variety is pretty good." I insert this letter, as much as any thing else, to give a pen-portrait of a class of ante-helium South- ern gentlemen who will be scarce in the South after this. I have also a communication from Mr. L. B. Fite, of Sumner county, Tennessee, who was a fellow- refugee and an intimate associate of my father dur- ing his sojourn in the South. "We copy ipsissima verba : "Dr. Green never indulged in harsh language or bitter denunciation of the Federals ; indeed, it would not have been in keeping with his character. But few men were posted better than he as to who were 234 DR. GREEX AND THE WAR. the main political wire-pullers. Dr. Green spent most of his time in preaching, and attracted the love and admiration of the people. A day or two after the battle of Murfreesboro we were on a steam-boat bound to Gadsden from Rome. Some distance be- low Rome, at a landing, was a crowd of plainly- dressed people, mostly women, waiting for news from the battle as to the fate of their friends and kindred. On board was a small man from the front, who was surrounded at once when he stepped on the shore. Questions were rapidly asked and an- swered; it was a sad scene of deepest interest. Those poor women, with sun-bonnets and home- made dresses — some looked in silent despair; others screamed and sank to the ground. Dr. Green said to me, with deep emotion, ' This is the saddest scene that I have ever witnessed.' " Immediately after the "surrender" my father re- turned, and quietly and peacefully accepted the sit- uation. He expressed no foolish wishes, grumbled out no regrets, had no tears to shed over the defunct Confederacy. Without a word he "passed under the rod." Governor Brownlow, who in former years had enjoyed the hospitality of Dr. Green, gave him a letter of recommendation to the authorities at Wash- ington City, whither he went and obtained a pardon from President Johnson, and the release of his property, which had been held by the Federals dur- ing his absence. Thus endeth a short chapter of his political history. 4=4r. Some of the Beatitudes. |R. GREEN was a peace-man. He could be a man of war when war was necessary; but he preferred peace — peace at home, peace in the Church, peace everywhere. There were chords in his heart that grated harshly when friend was arrayed against friend. He was ready to promote peace anywhere — in the Confer- ence or in the neighborhood. About this trait Dr. Walker says: "The Holy Spirit says, 'Speak evil of no man.' Dr. Green was a fine example in this direction. If there was any thing good to be said about a person or matter, he would be sure to see and say it. I remember there were a number of us discussing the attentions of a certain youug man of very moderate intellectual claims to a young lady of the highest social position, great beauty, grace, and wit, all heightened by sincere piety. One said, ' How absurd ! ' another, ' How ridiculous ! ' another, ' She is not fool enough to listen to him ! ' So it went round the circle. All said something border- ing on the sarcastic and severe. It seemed impera- tive on the Doctor to say something, which he did in liis own wise and charitable Avay: ' Well, I think (235) 236 SOME OF THE BEATITUDES. he shows excellent taste.' This was the truth, and a compliment to both parties. The remark illustrates * Where there is a will there is a way' — a way to be charitable." Here is a pen -portrait, by a good artist. Bishop Paine says : " Dr. Green was no ordinary man — such as we meet at every corner of the streets — by no means. He was rotund, not angular; he was sub- stantial, not superficial. His ph^-sical corresponded with his mental; and all his mental faculties were so equably adjusted to each other that all was har- monious. He was fully six feet in height, and weighed two hundred pounds; his head w^as large, and full of brains; his eyes were blue, and indica- tive of gentleness and thought; his features were regular and handsome. K I were to state Dr. Green's peculiarities, I would mention his sound judgment, self-control, amiability, integrity, unself- ishness, and reticence about himself — not to speak of his piety, zeal, and constancy. The result of all these qualities was a great, good, and useful man. Thank God for the gift of such a man to the world and the Church, and for the love and companion- ship of such a man as friend and brother!" Dr. Green wrote favors upon the stone. We cite in proof a letter written, during the General Confer- ence of 1866, to the Rev. Smith W. Moore: "As it is a principle with me never to forsake a friend or forget a favor, I feel it to be not only my duty, but also my pleasure, to make a grateful acknowledg- ment of the kind attentions that I received in your goodly city. I had no claim upon you, and there- SOME OP THE BEATITUDES. 237 fore felt most deeply the manifestations of brotherly love with which I was greeted. God bless you and yours!" We have another ideal picture of a number of the beatitudes, b}^ one of the masters. Bishop Mc- Tyeire says: "Dr. Green was singularly free from envy. Often, and freely, and confidently, have we canvassed men and measures, and never did I hear him make a remark that could be traced to this subtle and baneful source. It is a common saying that public men are jealous of each other; and the Christian ministry does not altogether escape the charge. To allow grudgingly the existence of merit, which cannot be denied, in another, and to offset it with the inevitable but, is too common. The public will have its favorites, and suggests ri- valry where there is only cooperation, and thus pro- vokes the exhibition it condemns. Envy is the vice of weak and ambitious minds, and A. L. P. Green was neither. One possessed of his power and re- sources must be conscious of them more or less. Then he took the measure of other men with entire self-possession, ^o greatness of reputation or of title dazed him. His bearing was quiet and mod- est, but not embarrassed by any presence. He saw ivhere the power lay, and where the weakness. To him the greatest men were not so great, nor the best so good, as they seemed to others; neither were the smallest so small, nor the worst so bad. Why should he be envious who felt assured of his position, and could hold his own with the foremost? This feat- ure of his character may be thus traced to a natural 238 SOME OF THE BEATITUDES. cause; but I will not exclude a moral one. There was work to be done for the Master. On that his heart was set, and he rejoiced at the skill or power that any workman could bring to bear. He was more concerned to build up one's reputation than to detract from it, since thereby efficiency was in- creased. He saw the necessity for the various gifts of the Spirit, and took the broad view — 'Whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, all are yours, and ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's.' " We have also an ideal picture from Dr. Summers on one of the beatitudes. Verily, I know no man more fond of peace, and a greater admirer of the peace-maker, than Dr. Summers. He looks fierce sometimes, and calls you a fool; but he means this as an expression of his love and esteem, and only his dearest friends are honored thus. He called my father a "fool" a thousand times, and he loved no man more. He speaks for himself: "Dr. Green was eminently a peace-maker; he composed hundreds of differences, forestalled difficulties, precluded suits in civil and ecclesiastical courts, and harmonized con- flicting elements in social life. We have repeatedly heard the remark that 'Dr. Green never spoke un- kindly of any one.' He seemed disposed to say something good of everybody of whom it was pos- sible to say any thing good at all. This was a beau- tiful feature in his character. His quiet and often indirect manner of bringing men under the influ- ence of religion was truly remarkable.'' Dr. Redford says: "I never knew any one so des- titute of selfishness as Dr. Green. The srood name SOME OF THE BEATITUDES. 239 of his brethren was as dear to his heart as his own. If at any time he deemed it proper to criticise the actions of another, no word of unkindness fell from his lips; and so affable was he that no matter how warmly he might urge a question, if decided against his views, instead of throwing any obstacle in the way of its success, he would cooperate with those by whom he had been opposed. He took his posi- tions, both as to men and measures, after the most mature thought, and adhered to them with the greatest tenacity. He followed no beaten path; he lived in an atmosphere of his own, and thought for himself, never swerving to the right or to the left." Bishop McTyeire, in his reference to the "but," reminds me of a certain variety of compliments that partake of the offensive, and border on the cruel. One's compliments should be done up as neatly as his linen. A shirt is not receivable, however im- maculate otherwise, if there be a black spot on the bosom. A compliment is not prepared for delivery until it is clean. I prefer my flies without sugar, or my sugar without flies. My father complimented those who were worthy^ and his compliments were acceptable because they were clean. Salt is a pre- server, and very necessary to the purity of matter; but really I do not think I am in such danger of spoiling that even my ice-cream must be salted. An enthusiast on the subject of hygiene might think it necessary, but a sensible confectioner would hardly place asafetida in a marriage-cake. 45. Dr. Green — Publishing Interests. FIE Southern Methodist Publishing House, located in Nashville, has intimately con- nected with its history the name of A. L. P. Green. Perhaps more than any other man, he was instrumental in securing the funds nec- essary to its inauguration. He was emphatically its tutelar angel until his death. As he was never afflicted with the sore-head, or hobbled with any en- vious distemper, he could aftbrd to favor, by his influence and personal attention, any connectional in- terest, no matter who was in charge. If he had any dislikes, they were subordinated to the general good, and he was never found aside looking askance and jpouting because he was not honored with some berth of emolument and trust. The Church suit being determined, the next thing was to decide upon the best location south of the Ohio River for the great imblishing interest. The requisites of centrality, accessibility, and health, w^ere to be combined in the situation. There are many who can recall the discussion in the General Conference of 185.4, in Columbus, Georgia, wnth reference to the location of the Publishing House. (240) DR. GREEX — PUBLISHING INTERESTS. 241 Louisville, Memphis, St. Louis, Atlanta, Athens (Georgia), Prattville, and Nashville, presented peti- tions. The claims of these respective places were represented by the first talent of the Church: J. Hamilton, Daniel Pratt, C. B. Parsons, G. W. D. Harris, John Hogan, Trusten Polk, J. E. Evans, A. L. P. Green, Lovick Pierce, E. Stevenson, C. K. Marshall, B. T. Crouch, J. W. McFarland, and J. C. Keener. Earnest, and labored, and wise, were the towering speeches, but Nashville's representa- tive, A. L. P. Green, came off from the field victo- rious. The sixth ballot resulted in the choice of Nashville, Louisville receiving fifty-seven votes and Nashville sixty. My fiither, referring to this discussion, said that he was very much quizzed by a facetious reflection of the Pev. William McMahon on the water sup- ply of the Cumberland. Mr. McMahon represented Memphis, and of course, must disparage every other place in nomination. In his strictures on the river privileges of Nashville, he said that he " admitted the little Cumberland was navigable, but that it could only aspire to thunder navigation.''^ I will not oftend the perception of the reader by explaining w^hat he meant. During the administration of every Agent of the Methodist Publishing House Dr. Green has been a counselor in full confidence. Bishop McTyeire says, " To Dr. Green, more than to any other man, Nashville owes the establishment of the Southern Methodist Publishing House; and more than all other men, since it was established, 11 242 DR. GREEN — PUBLISHING INTERESTS. has lie lent it his credit to promote its business. As M member of the Book Committee and Missionary Board, his counsel and service were valuable, and always cheerfully and patiently given." Dr. Summers, who has been in and around the Publishing House since its beginning, says: "Dr. Green was one of the leading projectors of the Pub- lishing House. He used his iniiuence.to bring it to N'ashville. He watched over its interests with sleepless vigilance and judicious care. As chair- man of the Publishing Committee, his counsels were invaluable. We looked to him as a tower of strength. He kindly extended to us sympathy and aid. We have frequently argued questions with him, and then, convinced or not convinced, we have trusted his superior judgment and followed his counsels, having so much confidence in his rare wisdom." Dr. Bedford, the present Agent of the Publishing House, says: " In 1866 I was elected by the General Conference to take charge of the publishing inter- ests of the Church. Dr. Green was elected a mem- ber of the local Book Committee at Nashville. From this period we w^ere thrown together almost every day, and between us the warmest friendship and most intimate relations existed. However much I had admired him for his genius and com- manding talents as a preacher of the gospel, now that I had an opportunity of studying him closely, my admiration at once ripened into reverence and affection. In the trying difficulties and perplexities through which I passed in the incipiency of my agency, growiirg out- of the prostrate condition of DR. GREEN — PUBLISHING INTERESTS. 243 the Publishing House, he firmly stood by and sus- tained me; and to him the Church in a great meas- ure is indebted for any success with which this institution has been favored." Speaking of my father as a business man, he pos- sessed, to an eminent degree, the faculty of concen- tratino^ or divertins: his mind. While the location of the Publishing House was nnder discussion, he sat by his table and wrote me a letter. 'No doubt he was very much interested, but only a few sen- tences are devoted to the proceedings of the Confer- ence. Among other non-official matters, he makes some humorous allusions to Brother Carr and the ladies, and some good-natured reflections on Dr. Wadsworth and others. Industrious wisdom often does prevent What lazy folly thinks inevitable. m 46. Our Mosaic. NATURAL definition of greatness is, To do well and effectively any thing that is worth doing at all. The great man is not a negative but a positive character — not so much a man who knows as a man who does. When we speak of great preachers the subject is preach- ing. My father had a reputation for preachings indeed, was one of the great preachers. Tliey are the best judges of preaching who have preached themselves. I am not willing to sit alone in judg- ment on this case, but have conceived a mosaic, which shall be the united testimony of his brethren. How- ever, I must reserve the right to cast aside a piece that has a false color or a false angle. Where can we find a purer or a brighter center-piece than the estimate of his old friend, Bishop Paine? The Bishop says: "An incident occurred, under my administration as a Bishop, which unveiled his true character as an itinerant preacher. After Dr. Green and several other prominent preachers had been retained in Nashville and its vicinity for a number of years, by annual reappointments, some, from remote and less popular fields of labor, began (24-0 OUR MOSAIC. 245 to intimate that there was favoritism in it, and this feeling increased until it was likely to work evil toward both the supposed favorite and those making the appointment. I heard the complaint so fre- quently that I resolved, when it came my turn to preside at that Conference, I would remove all ground for it. Accordingly I informed Dr. Green, early in the session, that, as his term of Presiding EldershiiJ had expired on that District, and as he had been about Kashville several years, I thought it best to give him a new and more distant work; to which he promptly answered, ^Give me the ap- pointment you think best for the Church, and I will try and fill it. I may not move my family, but that shall not prevent my going to it, and doing the best I can.' I did as I suggested, and he as he promised, and he did a most useful and happy year's labor. Such complaints rarely occur among our traveling ministers, whom I have found by long experience to be the most useful and noble class of men I ever knew. Such was the general conviction that Dr. Green was eminently adapted, by his busi- ness qualities as well as by his ministerial and social influence, to be closely connected with the most im- portant interests of the general Church, that long before his decease no breath of murmur was heard. It was evident to all that he was working for the Church, and not for himself. He gave to the Church every year far more than he received; for he was eminently pure and unselfish. " His voice was clear and musical, his gestures few and natural. His manner as a speaker, whether in 246 OUR MOSAIC. the pulpit or on the rostrum, was peculiarly simple, beginning without a flourish of trumpets. He soon entered upon his theme, and, without any apparent eiibrt, attracted the attention of his hearers. His great common sense gave him an intuitive knowl- edge of the most direct and effective approaches to the minds and hearts of his fellow-men, and enabled him to wield great power over them. It mattered not how many speakers had gone before him, no one had made his speech or exhausted his subject. He always found something new and attractive to say. He found diamonds by the beaten highway, and sur- prised his hearers by his magic illustrations. His manner of narrating facts, and his anecdotes, never failed to attract attention ; and while he would almost convulse the audience, he alone seemed unmoved. He found no difficulty in controlling men, whether assembled by thousands at the camp-meetings on his District or on other occasions. His ministerial pe- culiarities were naturalness of manner, clearness, pathos, which made him at once the favorite of children and of all popular assemblies." Bishop McTyeire, who is au fait as a sermon- critic, says: "As a preacher he had no model, and furnished none. When he took a text he made a sermon by what he got out of it, or by what he brought to it. He entertained, he instructed, he impressed, he moved, the multitudes who always and everywhere flocked to hear him. A preacher, he preached. He had faith in preaching the word, and in the word preached. A few years ago the English clergy showing great interest in societies, asylums, OUR MOSAIC. 247 schemes, schools, and convocations, the London Times made the critical and perhaps invidions re- mark that ' our preachers seem to have more confi- dence in every thing else than in preaching.' Xot so Dr. Green; he loved to preach. In the pulpit, on the camp-ground stand, on steam-hoats, in the school- house, under the shade of trees, he was ready to preach. There he made his mark; there his great work was done, and there are his reputation and re- ward. Souls were quickened, converted, and saved. Mourners were comforted, the erring reclaimed, the vacillating established. He lifted up the ' banner of the cross,' and rallied the people to it, in the wilder- ness and in the city full. In subduing this country to the gospel this man has won a just renown, which few can share with him." Dr. J. B. Walker, of the Louisiana Conference, furnishes the following: "As a preacher Dr. Green was unique, and almost inimitable. Young preach- ers are almost sure to be unconscious imitators of the older men whose style they admire. I think Dr. Green had fewer imitators than any eminent and popular preacher I ever knew. The reason of it grew out of the peculiarit}^ of his style, which was the personification and embodiment of calmness and self-possession. Now, these are just the elements mpst difficult for young preachers to command and exhibit. The Doctor has told me that in his early ministry he was rapid and vehement — so much so that his vocal powers were in danger of being ut- terly broken down, and he was compelled to a com- plete revolution of his manner. 248 OUR MOSAIC. "I first saw and heard Dr. Green when he was Presiding Elder on the Cumberland District. His new and improved elocutionary habit was then fully established. He was calm without being cold, de- tailed without being tedious. His manner was ani- mated, but deliberate; his language was clear, but seldom ornate. Few needed a dictionary to under- stand him; none ran ahead. He kept his thoughts and sympathies well in hand, and never suffered them to run away Avith him. Speakers sometimes intel- lectually, and sometimes emotionally, rise far above, and get away beyond, their hearers. In such cases the audiences become mere spectators, without any appreciative sympathy; they stare at his intellectual soarings or emotional glowings, but have no 'lot nor part' in the matter. Dr. Green's audiences never stood aloof from him and his theme, but rose, glowed, and melted with him. He rarely preached what are technically called doctrinal sermons. He seemed to assume that the elementary and essential principles of the gospel were already known to his audiences; that they did not need so much to be instructed as to be moved and persuaded. "His knowledge of human nature was profound and wide, and, we think, constituted one of the chief elements of his power as a j^reacher. As a spiritual geologist, he explored human nature to its last and lowest stratum. As a spiritual musician, he knew well how to touch the wondrous harp of man — its thousand chords responsive to his will. His ser- mons were according to Blair's beau ideal, 'persua- sive orations.' OUR MOSAIC. -249 "His next element of power, considered as a man, was his wonderful, descriptive power. He painted with artistic completeness and finish. He took time to do exhanstively and well. He never seemed to be in a hurry, as though he feared his audience might become impatient of minute detail — not at all. He saw all the' points of a picture, and he clearly portrayed it all to your mental eye. He would not tell you that he simply saw a tree; no, it was a nut- bearing, a hickory tree; it was covered with leaves, beginning to show the marks of age; its nuts were ripening; on a branch sat a squirrel, with his plumy tail aloft, and barking for joy; nnder the shadow rested a flock of sheep; close by wandered a little stream, into which a traveler had just ridden, and rested a moment nntil his thirsty horse had sipped from the brook. He made you see it all. In his calm and detailed procedure there seemed to be a con- sciousness of power, as if he felt he could hold his audience, and, when he wished, bear them forward along his paths and to his destination. His intui- tions did not deceive him; he did hold and conti'ol his hearers. While so calm and so minute, he was not dry, but tenderly pathetic. His blue eyes often filled and swam with tears as the deep tide of his emotion bore him and his weeping hearers on its ever-deepening volume. " It was a sight to see, at some of the great camp- meetings, where thousands were gathered to hear. His noble person, his easy dignity of manner, his clear enunciation, from the first commanded atten- tion. As he moved forward in his luminous march, 11^^ 250 OUR MOSAIC. all moved with him, the interest ever deepening and widening, the people forgetting more and all but the glorious theme. Every eye followed his few and simple gestures; every form bent forward anon, as the preacher kindled and rose with his theme. The people on the outskirts of the mighty throng would press closer up; one and another would uncon- sciously rise to their feet; scores and hundreds would be standing, hundreds weeping; sobs could be heard, and suppressed shouts, bursting from hearts too full to contain. These were splendid triumphs of consecrated eloquence. The unfolding mysteries of eternity alone will be able to reveal the multi- tudes he wooed and won to Christ, and lured to fairer worlds on high." Dr. D. C. Kelley, from liis childhood up, was ac- quainted with Dr. Green and his preaching. He says: "On one occasion, at a camp-meeting in my native county of Wilson, while describing the escape of the man -slayer to the city of refuge, pursued by the avenger of blood, the audience had drawn in from all quarters, and stood a compact mass, with ear and eye intent upon the speaker. So interested had they become that finally, when the last stage of the struggle came, and the speaker, pausing, exclaimed, as the fugitive arrived at the gate, with the hoarse breathing of the pursuer in his ears, ' Who will open the gate?' an acquaintance of mine sprang forward, answering, as the tears streamed down his face, ^I '11 open it! I '11 open it!' "Again, at a camp-ground near Lebanon, he had preached in the morning; but the pressure to hear OUR MOSAIC. 251 him was so great that he was forced to preach again at night. In his peroration he had been describing heaven, as he loved so much to do, and as the peo- ple loved so much to hear. After the description, which, to our inartistic eye, seemed as complete as human limner could make it, he turned to the theme of the angelic inhabitants and their after-commun- ion with the blood- washed saints. Intense silence had sat on the audience for some minutes; the great painter threw another heart-touch on the canvas, moving to the work with delicate calmness, but with such power that a single female voice unconsciously and softly uttered the word 'glory.' The spell was broken, and from lip to lip the echo rang, until the whole congregation, from altar to outskirts, swelled in shout after shout. Generally he produced silent weeping, and quietly fastened on the memory great truths and heart-pictures in colors indelible. His sermons are remembered everywhere. The children listened to him with joy." Dr. J. B. McFerrin furnishes our mosaic the fol- lowing: "Dr. Green as a preacher was unique, and was formed after no model. He never studied, in his younger days, the rules of pulpit oratory, and yet he was not devoid of the artistic, nor did he ig- nore the power of art. In his artistic skill he had the power of making every thing appear natural. He was ambitious — that is, he courted earnestly the best gifts. He always desired to excel as a preacher ; to preach well was the highest object of his life. No accomplishment, no attainment, no reputation, was equal, in his estimation, to the character of an 252 OUR MOSAIC. able preacher of the gospel. He was wise in coun- sel and prudent in demeanor; but his great forte was in the pulpit. He looked for immediate fruit; all his pulpit efforts were aimed at immediate results. He seldom preached on doctrinal questions or con- troverted subjects. He aimed at the heart, and that often through the imagination. He moved his au- diences, and when he failed in that he regarded his sermon as worth but little." Dr. J. W. Hanner, who has stood shoulder to shoulder with my father through many a revival- season, says: "Dr. Green seemed to me a great preacher; but his sermons were not perfect. A faultless sermon in the pulpit is an abomination, standing where it ought not. So eloquent and quiet was he that one knew not that the preacher was elo- quent till he felt a tear on his cheek, and looked out on a weeping crowd. A great Bishop preached to the same congregation; it was a very proper ser- mon. Many handkerchiefs were moistened, but not by tears ; it was a w^arm day in August. "His general habit of description was by detail, having in it more fancy than imagination. Fancy deals with externals; imagination cuts right into the heart of things. Kow and then his descriptions wearied some people; but they made an impression, and left their image on the mind. Sometimes his imagination rose above fancy, and struck out in words, few, sharp, terse, and curt. "At a camp-meeting he described a conflict be- tween a strong, square-built Dutch merchantman and a pirate-ship. The brig was becalmed and be- OUR MOSAIC. 253 fogged. When the fog lifted there was seen in the distance a black line lying on the sea, like a snake. A stiff breeze has sprung up, and the chase begun. A shot came skipping across just before the brig. The captain put every man at his post. All ready; ten knots an hour; the pirate bore down quartering. When near enough, our captain cried, ' Square the yards ! ' When he looked back he saw nothing but floating barrels. Now, your small critic would make the captain say, 'Square away there!' Who cares? The order drove the merchantman plumb through the pirate. ''At Gallatin, Tennessee, he delivered a funeral- discourse on the Rev. T. L. Douglass, in which he stated that 'if the earth went round the sun accord- ing to the law^s of nature it would describe an olypse, but as God carried it round it made a perfect circle.' When taken to task about this blunder astronomical, he wanted to know 'what was the matter.' In the first place, I stated, there is no such word as olypse: next, the learned tell us that the earth's orbit is not a perfect circle. 'Well,' said he, 'when we preach philosophy and astronomy, we speak to a few men who know more about such things than we do; let us preach the gospel.' " One has heard sermons — scientific sermons, very proper sermons — by bookish men, who could fix to a dot the foci of parabolical curves, that were worth about fifteen cents per cart-load. There is more food for a hungry man in a hearty, human, blun- dering sermon than in the exceedingly proper, ivory -headed, Sunday essays, which make the 254 OUR MOSAIC. hearer inwardly sigh, 'Tell me, my soul, can this be joy?'" The Rev. William Witcher, a member of the Ten- nessee Conference, and a young man comparatively, assists in composing the mosaic. He says: "Dr. Green's opinion was sought, from the Sunday-school class to the Bishop's cabinet. It became common about the Southern Methodist Publishing House and in the Annual Conference to quote him as au- thority. I have heard Dr. Green preach, when he reminded me of Samson taking hold of the pillars of the temple, that he might move the house and all who were in and on it. His sermons were as long as they were powerful and profound, and yet the uneducated could understand all he said. He might be called 'the dramatic preacher of the South.' He made no attempt at profound scholarship, and yet one or two strokes of his imagination would ex- haust all the adverse criticism in the house." 47. Dr. Greex and the Schools. J]R. GREEN, while not a school-man, was very much in favor of schools. While he never expressed a regret that he was not classically educated, he never decried the education of others. Just any thing that was worth learning, he was anxious that everybody should learn. Upon no occasion in all his life did he let slip a boast that he was a self-made man. His opinion was that, as a general rule, self-made men might have been made much better. He never courted the applause of the vulgar by sUjy-shod flings at learning; hence, he was immensely popular with men of letters. His strong, practical views fur- nished the school-man a substantial fabric for his dreams. Next to the preaching of the word, came the ed- ucation of the young — both male and female. La Grange and Florence Universities were literary chil- dren for whom he talked and prayed, and for whom he always had a word of encouragement. In 1849 he was chosen by the young men of the Dialectical and La Fayette Societies of La Grange College to deliver an address, which was published by their (255) 256 DR. GREEN AND THE SCHOOLS. request. The female institutions under the auspices of the Church found him a willing and sympathetic counselor. In 1872 the Central University had hecome a living idea, with its Board of Trust and Charter. How long it had been upon the stocks, from the first conception until it became a fully-developed project, we know not. We do know that Dr. Green had been thinking and talking for years upon this consummation; w^e know that the plan was not in favor from every side; we know that Dr. Green and other strong men stood shoulder to shoulder, and w^ent towering their tremendous plan through the Conferences. Have we said too much? Let us hear from Bishop McTyeire. He says: "Though Dr. Green owed nothing to colleges, he came in time to make them, and they owed much to him. La Grange, the first in the Church, was initi- ated the same year he Avas ordained elder; and to his forecast, and zeal, and eloquent pleading, we owe, more than to any other man, the consent and combination of influences pledged to the larger scheme now rising: in the western suburbs of Nash- ville. He might have hesitated to urge on others the value of an education which he himself had not obtained; he might have pleaded his own case in proof that it was not necessary to success, but he was too wise to make a rule of exceptional cases. He had understanding of the times to know what Israel ought to do. I never knew him, in such matters, to be feeling about for the strong or the popular side." DR. GREEN AND THE SCHOOLS. 257 Dr. T. 0. Summers (the Vice-chancellor and Dean of the Yanderbilt Faculty) says: "Though Dr. Green did not enjoy in his youth the advantages of a liberal education, he prized those advantages very highly; made up, as far as circumstances would allow, for their lack by strenuous efforts in after life; and did a great deal to secure such advantages to the rising ministry. He was one of the project- ors of the Central (now Yanderbilt) University, the treasurer of its funds, and looked forward with the liveliest interest to the development of that institu- tion, on which he had bestowed so much thought and labor. He wanted to see — and we trust he will see from the ramparts of the other world — hundreds of the sons of the prophets flocking to its halls, and going forth from them divinely qualified for the work of the ministry." The last work ni}^ father did was for the Yander- bilt. He traveled in the interest of the institution when he should have been at home in his room under the care of a nurse and a physician. Those who understand the nature of his disease compre- hend when I say that he shed his blood for the Yanderbilt, and suffered as he went. Dr. Young (Secretary of the Yanderbilt Univer- sity) says: "Dr. Green and I had our desks in the same office. One morning in June, 1874, he seemed more feeble than usual. I handed him some money. He took it to the bank and left it on deposit, came back, handed me the book and the key to his drawer, saying, 'Here, Yoimg, I have quit' That was the last interview hut one." 258 DR. GREEN AND THE SCHOOLS. I have a number of letters written to his young lady correspondent, Miss Annie Ransom, which re- flect his deep interest in the Central and Yanderbilt. He writes in 1871 : " I am sorry to say that my quar- terly-meeting at Culleoka will have to be postponed. I am compelled to attend the North Mississippi Conference, which will meet next Wednesda}", at Columbus. I have just returned from the Memphis Conference. I go in the interest of the great Con- nectional University which we are tr^dng to estab- lish; and it is thought there will be difficulties in the way, and the old men of the Church think I must go." He writes from Hot Springs, April 4, 1874: "I expect to leave here April 23, for home. I want to be present at the corner-stone laying and the meeting of the Board of Trust, and then on to Louisville, to the General Conference. My health has im- proved somewhat. My feet have greatly improved. I rest better at night than I did some time ago, and my spirits are better, which is no small matter with me. I will not be able to return before the meetino: of the Board of Trust, and by that time I fear that I shall have lost all that I gained." While at Hurricane Springs he becomes quite a diplomate in the interest of the great coimedional en- terprise. He writes to Dr. McFerrin, August 6, 1872 : "I am now at these springs, trying the effect of the water on my tetter. What will be the result I do not knovv^ In other respects my health is good. "I have been anxious for some time to have a full conversation with you on the subject of the contcm- DR. GREEN AND THE SCHOOLS. 259 plated Central University. I should like to see you, but I may not have the chance, as the Conferences will be calling you off. ''I shall take it for granted that the institution, as understood by the Bishops and Board of Trus- tees, meets your approbation, and, consequently, I will not allow that now to be an open question. The main point to which I wish to direct your at- tention is this: The subject will again be submitted to the Annual Conferences, and the Tennessee will be the first to take action on the subject. If it should go smoothly through our Conference, I think there will be no trouble in the other Conferences. My object in this note is to get you to conduct the matter before the Tennessee Conference. I am so fully committed that it might be supposed I was in favor of an independent theological institute, and might not be able to unite all the members of the Conference in favor of the University. It is known that you have not favored a theological institute per 56, and were you to go forward and conduct the subject through the Tennessee Conference, it would have the effect of uniting all the parts. I have no interest to serve, as you know. I am noAv growing old, and must soon pass away; but I feel a strong desire to see the institution established. We have no endowment anywhere in the Church, South, that can be made available in giving aid to young preachers, and you know how our colleges are now crowded with dead-heads, and that something must be done. "Should the endowment fund be obtained (and I 260 DR. GREEN AND THE SCHOOLS. think it can), the Bishops will locate the institution in IS^ashville; but I am for the institution, locate it where they may. E"ow, I want you to take charge of the question before the Tennessee Conference, and let me be seen only as a voter, and the brethren who may have had some doubts in their minds will, I think, be fully satisfied. Take charge of this sub- ject; you can reconcile all discordant elements; and let us put this great charity through. I think we shall have about one hundred and fifty thousand dollars as a bonus — that is, that amount is offered without any agent being put into the field." He writes from Louisville, May 7, 1874: "I can- not write this morning, my nerves are so unsteady. I cannot think of any thing new that would interest you. I recollect that Commodore Yanderbilt has given one hundred thousand dollars more, which makes six hundred thousand that he has given. So we are moving on with the University. The Medical School of Nashville University has come over, and we have accepted it as our school; and we have or- ganized the L^w School." So, through sickness and feebleness extreme, when other men would have lost interest, when he knew that his feet were on the margin of the river, when he felt like one " laid upon the shelf," he tenaciously clung to the Yanderbilt, for it was the fruition of a hope that he had cherished for years. Upon my first meeting with Dr. L. C. Garland (Chancellor of the Yanderbilt University), he re- marked: "One of the principal inducements that brought me here was that I might enjoy the society DR. GREEN AND THE SCHOOLS. 261 of your father." The association was but a few days, but it may be reneAved in Thcat sun-bright clime, Undimmed by sorrow and unhurt by time, Where age hath no power o'er the fadeless frame, Where the eye is fire, and the heart is flame. The able and venerable Chancellor has generously thrown in his contribution of memories, which we draw out as pure gold from the furnace: " I met with Dr. Green only on a few public oc- casions, but these were sufficient to impress me with a sense of his unusually high order of talents. The first of the occasions was tlie commencement of the Memphis Conference Female Institute, at Jackson, in 1869. Your father had accepted an invitation to preach the commencement-sermon on Sunday, and to deliver an address before the Institute on Monday, E to deliver an address to the graduating-class on Wednesday. During the four days of our presence we occupied the same room and ate at the same board. I soon discovered the uncommon colloquial powers of Dr. Green, and his kind and gentle dispo- sition. He was the life of every circle into which he entered. His fund of anecdote and of apt illus- tration was inexhaustible, and his powers of narra- tion unsurpassed. His attraction for children was magnetic. The younger pupils of the Institute were ever hanging about him, and playing with him as if he were a pet. He entered sweetly into all their innocent humors and whims. ^'A little incident that occurred seemed to draw me more closely to liim in friendly sympath}^ than could 262 DR. GREEN AND THE SCHOOLS. have been expected from a first intercourse of so short duration. The theme of the Doctor's address on Monday was, ' The proper sphere of woman.' Some of the sentiments he advanced were unpop- ular with a lady of Memphis who had been selected as essayist before the Society of Alumnx. This essay was read on Tuesday, and the writer had added to it quite a severe animadversion upon the positions taken by Dr. Green. The Doctor was a man of too much politeness and gallantry to take up the gauntlet thrown down by a lady, yet it was evident that he was annoyed by the asperity of the assault. My address, which followed on the next day, had for its theme, ' Woman and her proper cult- ure,' and the Doctor was extremely gratified to find in it a fall vindication of every position of his which had been assailed. So precisely did my line of re- mark traverse that of the essayist's that it was hard to convince one that it had not been pursued with special reference to hers. "I again met with Dr. Green at the General Con- ference of 1870, held at Memphis, of which we Avere both members. He was then in his proper sphere, and no one exerted a greater influence upon the de- liberations of the Conference than he. I was asso- ciated with him on two very important committees, and to him were due, in a great measure, the satis- factory conclusions to which they arrived. He was very clear in his cognitions, and precise in his state- ments. His argumentation in debate was logical, and his bearing toward his antagonists perfectly respectful. DR. GREEN AND THE SCHOOLS. 263 "But to me the most interesting' association I had with Dr. Green was in the inception and establish- ment of the Vanderbilt University. It was remark- able that so deep an interest was taken in an insti- tution of high grade by one who had not in early life enjoyed the advantages of scholastic training. On one occasion, in a public address to the l^orth Mississippi Conference, he feelingly alluded to the difficulties and embarrassments with which he had to contend in his early ministry, growing out of a want of mental culture, and expressed his determination to spend the rest of his life in a struggle to procure for the young ministers of the Church the advan- tages of which he had so sorely felt the need. "I went to the iirst convention held in relation to the establishment of a university, as a delegate from the North Mississippi Conference, with no ex- pectation of being able to carry forward the enter- prise in the,depressed condition of the country; and when, at the opening of the convention, an inter- change of opinion was generally had, it was obvi- ous that a great majority of the members shared in this despondency. "But Dr. Green took a more hopeful view of the matter, and expressed very decidedly his opinion in favor of the practicability of the scheme, and of setting about the execution of it at once. He thought the money could be raised; and this opin- ion, held by so experienced and successful a finan- cier, and by one so extensively and thoroughly acquainted with the people, inspired the whole bodv with confidence, and resulted in the adoption 264 DR. GREEN AND THE SCHOOLS. of resolutions to go forward with the work. The whole effort to raise funds w^as devolved upon Dr. Green as treasurer, together with his chosen assist- ants. In this work he was ardently engaged when, in the providence of God, Mr. Yanderbilt became the patron and founder of the University, and placed its operations upon a safe pecuniary basis. 'No one rejoiced at this event more heartily than Dr. Green; and it is to be regretted that he did not live to see the University started upon its career of use- fulness. Certain it is that he mainly kept the enterprise alive until it was taken up by Mr. Yan- derbilt. So that the Church and the country owe to the former a debt of gratitude second only to that due to the latter." 4.-8. Last Conferences — Sufferings. II. GREE^ attended his last General Con- ference held in Louisville, Kentucky, May, 1874. This Avas his tenth General Con- ference — three of the Methodist Episco- pal Church, and seven of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. The quadrennial of 1862 was not held, on account of the war. On his return from the Hot Springs, just a few weeks before the open- ing of the Conference, he was evidently better, and so expressed himself. I believe that death nearly always allows a partial armistice before the requisi- tion is fully served. The clouds for the time break; the sun comes out, and the birds sing their sweetest songs; the victim looks up and takes hope, but it is only a few oUce-hraiiches scattered in the way — the setting sun of human life, donning his robes of pur- ple hues and crimson -and -gold. My father felt better — even felt able to go by himself to the Con- ference, that my mother might have an interval of rest and recuperation before their return to the Hot Springs. He thought it not at all necessary that any member of his family should accompany him — rejoiced to think that he was able to take care of 12 (2fi5) 266 LAST CONFERENCES — SUFFERINGS. himself. He was deceived : his health rapidly failed. He attended, but with great pain, the sessions of the Conference, until he could go no more. He was entertained by a true and noble friend, Mr. Kean, of the Louisville Hotel, who has since sat down with his glorified guest in the kingdom of lieaven. There were ready hands and willing hearts that loved him, and he wanted nothing that this world conld furnish. His afflictions did not destroy his interest in the Church, as his speeches on music and Sunday-schools testify. We will leave to Dr. Redford, who, with Mrs. Bedford, so tenderly watched over him, to relate the story of his suffer- ings. The Doctor says: "I had the pleasure of being with him the most of the time during the General Conference immediately preceding his death. We were quartered together at the Louis- ville Hotel, and our rooms were on the same floor, and close to each other. We also occupied in the Conference-room the same table, and conferred freely on all questions before the body. "He was confined to his room the greater portion of the time, exceedingly feeble, and a great sufi:erer. I was with him constantly, and contributed to his relief by every means within my power. His last appearance in the General Conference was on Mon- day, May the 18th. He had been appointed to preach on the Sabbath at Chestnut Street (Meth- odist) Church, but was not able to leave his room. Mrs. Redford watched by his bedside all day. His suft'ering was so severe that he felt apprehensive of lock-jaw. I was with him until midnight, and on LAST CONFERENCES — SUFFERINGS. 2(37 Monday morning reported him to the Conference as very ill. A few minutes after I announced his illness he entered the Conference. His countenance bore the marks of great pain. "The question before the Conference was as to whether or not the Episcopacy should be strength- ened by the election of one or more Bishops. Dr. Green, in an able speech, advocated the election of one Bishop. This was his last speech, and although the Conference did not concur with him, he Avas listened to with breathless silence. At the close of this speech he left the room. A few minutes later I followed him to the hotel, and found him in his room, very ill. Painful as was the duty, I commu- nicated by telegram the fact of his illness to his family, and informed him of what I had done. His reply was, 'I am glad you have done so.' That night Mrs. Green and his eldest son. Captain Frank W. Green, met him at the depot and accompanied him home." We continue the story of his sufferings by quot- ing from the memorial by Dr. Summers: "Dr. Green staid with us at the Louisville Hotel, and every thing that friends could do for him was done; but before the General Conference adjourned he had to return to l!Tashville. Here he took part in the obsequies of the Rev. F. E. Pitts, who preceded him to the spirit-land; and was in the programme for the ob- sequies of his friend, the venerable Dr. Maddin, which took place June the 21st, but he was not able to be present. He had assisted us at the commun- ion in McKendree Church the first Sunday in June, 268 LAST CONFERENCES — SUFFERINGS. and closed the service after our sermon at night in the same church. He expressed himself as greatly interested in the discourse — it was on the last judg- ment — and in his prayer gave a resume of the ser- mon, with remarkable accuracy and great fervor of devotion. He also closed the service after Dr. Har- grove on the next Sunday, June the 14th, and this, we believe, terminated his public labors. A metas- tasis of the disease (tetter) to the bowels took place, and nothing short of a miracle could stay the hand of death. Drs. J. W. and T. L. Maddin, Eve, Me- nees, and other physicians — the most eminent of the profession — did all that medical skill could do; his friends were unceasing in their efforts to aiford re- lief, but 'the Lord's appointment is the servant's hour,' and that hour had come." Besides the home-correspondence, which he never neglected, my father while in Louisville remembers his young lady correspondent. Miss Annie Ransom. He writes (May 2, 1874): ''I am now in the Confer- ence-room. The business is going on. We have something over two hundred members present, and more will no doubt arrive to-day. The Bishops are all here, and seemingly in good health. Dr. Pierce is here, though he seems to be feeble. I am located in good quarters at the Louisville Hotel. Mrs. Red- ford had me assigned to a room near the Doctor's, so that if I should be sick she could take care of me. My wife will not be able to be here. Our table consists of Dr. Redford and wife. Dr. Summers, wife, and son, which makes us feel very much like a familv." LAST CONFEREJ^CES — SUFFERINGS. 269 My father attended the last session of his own Conference (the Tennessee) in Franklin, in the au- tumn of 1873. He, the Rev. Golman Green, and I, roomed together at Dr. Parks's. He seemed to im- prove during the Conference, and preached with his old energy. He was full of life and hope, and en- tertained us with many an anecdote. Again the play of pain Shoots o'er his features as the sudden gust Crisps the reluctant lake, that lay so calm Beneath the mountain shadow. 49. His Death and Burial. CANE'OT to this day take the word ''death" between my lips, and bracket it to the name of my father. To do this might be in accord with the " unities and proprieties," but would be a violation of the moral affinities and Christian realities. There was so much of the bright and so little of the dark, so much of hope and so little oi fear, in his life of perfect peace that I find, as I think of him, no place for death. Every niche in the temple of his life was occupied by the dii majores, Faith, Hope, and Charity. Stealthily the destroyer did his work, and we were stunned when it was accomplished. Why did we not know what was so evident to others? Be- cause our thoughts of him were not mixed with dust. We saw the heralds, but knew them not until the dark plumes waved over us, and we stood in the presence of the terrible king. After his return from the General Conference there Avas some improvement for about ten days; then the fatal metastasis set in. We did not believe, because we did not want to believe. By no member of his family was the subject of death mentioned, because (270) HIS DEATH AND BURIAL. 271 the mention of it would make such an event prob- able, and the bare surmise we fought against. We prayed — prayed together and in private — but not with him. He asked the visiting brethren to read the Scriptures and to pra}^ with him, and talked to them freely about the future state, but said nothing to his family about death or dying, except incident- ally on one occasion. My brother Frank and I were standing by his bed; he had just rallied from an attack of syncope, and said, " I want you to carry me out on a carry-all to ' Greenland;' I want to die there." After my brother stated to him that we were at the old home, where w^e had spent so many happy days together, he seemed satisfied, and said no more. 'No doubt the death of his old friends in rapid succession — Messrs. Brown, Maddin, and Pitts — had depressed him very much. There was a marked resemblance between his death and that of the Rev. Elisha Carr, who died in 1866. Brother Carr, after he realized the fact that he must die, had but little to say on the subject of religion, and called on no one to pray with him. Like my father, he felt that there was nothing more to do but to die. His house was in order, and the angels stood at the door. My father never admitted, during his last illness, that he was any better; but his kind heart woukl not allow him to afflict his family with his convic- tions as to the result. That sad afternoon, when he called for writing- materials, no explanations w^erc given, before or after. He sat up in bed without help, and, in a steady 272 Ills DEATH AND BURIAL. hand, wrote his last will and testament, closing with the illuminated lines, " My children, live in peace, AND MEET ME IN HEAVEN ! " He bore his afflictions with a fortitude that was strange to his friends. The first intimation I had that he was in immi- nent danger was the day before his death. I re- marked to him that I would go to my appointment and attend to some matters, which would require about a half of a day, and return. He looked at me steadily, and said not a word. I did not hear, but saw, his thoughts. I did not go, and the next day, at two o'clock p.m., I saw him die. His son-in-law, Capt. Robert P. Hunter, died just a week before, at the country-place, which my father did not know until he met him in heaven. We shall hold in everlasting remembrance the brethren Avho visited and prayed with him; also, the attending physicians, Drs. T. L. and J. W. Maddin, w^ho were so assiduous in their attentions; also. Dr. Paul F. Eve, his old neighbor, and his rela- tives. Dr. Thomas Menees and Dr. Samuel Jamison. We have a precious letter from the now sainted Bishop E. S. Janes, of the Methodist Episcopal Church. It was written by the Bishop before the sad news reached him, two days after my father's death. Every s^dlable is a pearl. The memory of Bishop Janes is a benison to every Methodist, I^orth and South. It may be a small item to insert here; but the angels will not object to it. I remember, in 1846, that Bishop Janes stopped at my father's door, and left a package of Ijeautiful red Testaments for HIS DEATH AND BURIAL. 273 the children. Why should you think it strange that in my mind the name of Bishop Janes and those Testaments go together? The Bishop writes: " Round Lake Camp-meeting, i "Saratoga County, New York, July 17, 1874, ) "Eev. a. L. p. Green, D.D. — Dear Brother: I am pained to learn of your severe illness. It occurred to me that possibly you might be able to hear a few lines read to you without injury. I very much de- sire to send you my affectionate greetings. My heart most warmly salutes you in the Lord. I re- member our former intercourse with great pleasure and satisfaction. I have never been alienated from my brethren in the South. " Our fraternal meeting here is very pleasant, and, I think, useful. Bishop Kavanaugh is here, and Bishop Doggett is on his way hither. Dr. McFerrin has been here, and preached to us lovingly. I am quite sure that he and Brother Plummer enjoyed their visit, and I know we enjoyed it. They will report to you on their return. Dr. Sargent and Dr. Poisal are here; they have both preached with much acceptance. " The Methodist Protestant Church, the Methodist Church, the Free Methodist, the African Methodist Episcopal Church, the African Zion Methodist Epis- copal Church, and both branches of the Methodist Church in Canada, are represented at the meeting. God is with us in very deed; his salvation in abun- dance flows. '^0 how I wish you were here! Well, we shall 12^^ 274 HIS DEATH AND BURIAL. meet in the general assembly and Church of the first-born in heaven. I feel that I am nearing the eternal home of God's great, and holy, and happy family. There will be but one Methodism in heaven ; soon there will be but one on earth. Love will con- quer. The constraining love of Christ is mighty to compel; it will triumph. "I fear that I have already wearied you. I pray God to give you all needed grace in this suffering world, and all the beatitudes of the spirit-world. "With Christian regards to your family, I remain your loving brother in Jesus, E. S. Janes. "P.S. — Bishop Foster is with me, and wishes me to express to you his affectionate regards. "E. S. J." Dr. Summers furnishes the account w^hich fol- lows of my father's burial: "His life was gentle, and the elements So mixed in him that Nature might stand up And say to all the world, This was a manl "But he is dead! "According to his virtue let us use him With all respect and rite of burial, "And it was so. Dr. Kelley was sent for to the country, and arrived in time for the funeral. Drs. McFerrin, Sawrie, Hay good, Hanner, and other ministers, personal and intimate friends of the de- ceased, were absent, and could not be reached. But the ministers of the city and neighborhood, includ- ing some of other Churches, preceded the cortege from the house of mourning to the house of prayer HIS DEATH AND BURIAL. 275 in which he was the first pastor — McKendree ChurcL — which he loved so dearly. Devout men, official members from the different stations, bore him to his burial. The service at the church was conducted by Bishop McTyeire, Drs. Kelley, Har- grove, Brown, Young, Redford, Warren, and Sum- mers — a large congregation being in attendance, notwithstanding the rain, as the death of Dr. Green had created an almost unprecedented sensation in the city. The discourses of Bishop McTyeire and Dr. Kelley were beautiful and appropriate; they were listened to with profound interest. The serv- ice at the grave was impressively read by the Rev. F. R. Hill and Dr. R. K. Hargrove. It was the sweet sunset hour; and as the dulcet sounds of a song — one of the Doctor's favorites — were given forth by the choir, one could almost imagine that his spirit was present, joining in the refrain about 'the sweet fields of Eden,' where he is now roaming with un- speakable jo}^ We laid him down in Mt. Olivet Cemetery, side by side with his son-in-law, Capt. R. P. Hunter, who was interred the Sunday previous. There, too, lie the remains of other kindred. There is room there for all the family." May they be found, no wanderer lost, A family in heaven I 50. Testimony of the Brethren. E cannot close this record without append- ing the "Testimony of the Brethren." It is their right and privilege to speak. All the lights in the temple of humanity will go out when they who love are not permitted to speak their loves. I have been taught from a child to respect, never to speak evil of, and to give place to the brethren. I rejoice that they have sat down with me, and assisted so fluently and fully in the estimate of my father's life. I am now a child again, respectful and obedient, and waiting to hear what the brethren shall say. Bishop McTyeire comes first: ''And now to speak of his death. This I should not characterize as triumphant; it is enough to say it was peaceful. There is a difi'er- ence according to sovereign grace; and it is not always according to eminence in usefulness, or even in piety. Some do triumph — they rejoice and are exceeding glad in the prospects of the grave; they have ecstasies and transports in dying. Our brother had not these. The end of this man was peace. The psalmist thought that was enough even for the perfect and the upright. I sympathize with the (276) TESTIMONY OF THE BRETHREN. 277 sentiment of the Hev. Dr. Few, of Georgia, when he lay a-dying. A brother sang for him that hymn which has this refrain: I hope to die shouting, the Lord will provide! Said he, 'I don't ask to die that way, but peace- fully, as the sun goes down.' So died Dr. Green. We had the privilege of more than one prayerful intercourse with him. He believed that he was n earing the end when others had hope. '' ' Doctor, you have done a great deal of preach- ing; how does it appear now as you look back on it?' There was no remark of self-depreciation, as that he might have done it better, or more of it, but this was the deliberate reply : ' I am impressed with its truth! What I have been preaching is true !' "At another time, on leaving to be gone a few days in West Tennessee, he intimated a desire that I should not go where a message could not reach me, as something might happen. All the while he expected to die, saying — the visit before my last — * My course is run ! ' And yet there was no trepida- tion, no fear. He was as serene in the contempla- tion of death, and all the realities w^hich death was about to unfold, as though the signal had been given at the camp-meeting and he was leaving the preach- ers'-tent to fill his appointment. Already the sing- ing had begun at the stand, and the people had gathered, and he was ready. "About two o'clock on Wednesday afternoon, July 15, 1874, he asked his son Frank to turn him on liis side; and without gasping for breath, or 278 TESTIMONY OF THE BRETHREN. death-rattle, or any struggle, he was dead. While we lament his taking away, let us be thankful that he was ever given." Dr. D. C. Kelley speaks: "A week before his death, as I was about leaving the city, I asked — con- trary to the general directions of physicians — that I might see him. I felt that I must hear one more utterance from him. To a question, 'Are you suf- fering much?' he replied, 'Only physically; there is no mental or moral trouble!' 'What is the out- look, Doctor?' Answer: 'All beautiful! Not only heaven, Christ, and faith are beautiful, but I have been thinking to-day of death, and the grave, and the grave-yard where a whole family sleep grouped together, and this, too, has grown beautiful to me ! ' After a pause, he added: 'The gospel we preach is true — salvation is for all;' a pause, and then, with emphasis: 'But it is all the grace of God!' "To those of us who have heard him more than a score of times — even in his happiest moments in the pulpit — say, 'I love life; I joy to think of eter- nal life; I love light and the day-time, but I hate night; I do not love death; I hate the grave,' to hear him now calmly saying that the sheen of light which his faith had shed over his active life was, in the hour of need, casting its brightness over the grave, was a note of the profoundest triumph; not the mere triumph of emotion, but the deeper tri- umph of a victorious faith." Dr. T. 0. Summers speaks: "Dr. Green is dead! The tidings strike a doleful sound On our poor heart-strings! TESTIMONY OF THE BRETHREN. 279 We can hardly believe it — we 'cannot make him dead.' Yet he is dead. He died on Wednesday afternoon, July 15, 1874, at two o'clock. Dr. Eve came to our office in the morning and told us that he considered him in extremis. In company wdth Bishop McTyeire and Doctors Bedford and Young, we instantly repaired to the home of Mr. Thomas D. Fite, son-in-law of the Doctor's — where he had so long lived, and where he was about to die; but we could not then have an interview wath him. A few hours later Brother W. H. Evans came after us — the Doctor was dead! We hastened to the house of mourning, where we found Dr. Hargrove, Dr. Eve (who, with Dr. John W. Maddin, was present at his death), and other friends, w^ith the family. We min- gled our sorrows, and tears, and prayers. The scene was inexpressibly impressive. "A few days before his death we had a pleasant interview with him. On remarking to him, 'The doctors say you are better — are you better?' he re- plied in his usual tone, like Bishop Soule, '!N"o, sir!' 'Your mind is kept in perfect peace?' 'Yes, sir!' He was very feeble, but he conversed with consider- able ease, and gave us the cheering assurance that all was well. He asked us to unite with him in prayer, and he responded very heartily to our peti- tions, except such as referred to his recovery. The call seems to have been whispered to his heart, and he was preparing to remove. And leave the dull body below, And fly to the regions above. "He was himself all through the final scene. 280 TESTIMONY OF THE BRETHREN. During his years of extreme suffering no one ever heard him complain or repine. He would converse, writQ, preach, and make speeches — do every thing the occasion required — and none but his intimate friends would suspect there was any thing the matter with him, except as there would be an uncontrolla- ble effort to relieve himself of the tormenting pain which he endured." Dr. J. B. McFerrin says : " My last interview with him — not long before I left home — was very pleas- ant. He was calm, peaceful, resigned, and full of hope in view of the immortality of the soul and the resurrection of the body. "When I said, 'This mortal must put on immortality' (pointing to his emaciated frame), he said, 'That is beautiful!' and spoke of the resurrection of the body with rapture. By faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, and by the faith vouchsafed to him, he felt that Christ had blessed the graves of all his saints, and that he was going to rest with his dying Head." I remember that in this last interview Dr. McFer- rin put a question to my father, as to the future state, which he answered by saying, "All is as clear as o:lass!" I mention this be6ause it was one of his favorite sayings when in health. Dr. Young says: "The day before he died, learn- ing that I was to leave the city, he sent for me to come in. Giving me his hand, he said, 'I wanted to say to you that all is right ! ' These were his last words to me." In the autumn of 1874 a memorial service was held in Gallatin, in memory of Messrs. Maddin, TESTIMONY OF THE BRETHREN. 281 Pitts, and Green, by the Tennessee Annual Confer- ence. We know that on that occasion even the " stranger's eye wept." We extract the last para-, graph of the charming official tribute by the Rev. James R. Plummer: "Dr. Green has gone up from among us! And yet it seems we cannot help straining our ears for that voice, which has been familiar to us as a Con- ference so long. Time and again have we looked eagerly around us for that stately form that sat among us in such perfect equipoise, commanding always our respect; and for that benevolent face that always inspired our love. Having understand- ing of the times, he will no more tell us what Israel ought to do; and yet w^e feel as if he were listening to the words we speak." The fire has gone out on the hearth; the voices of the brethren are hushed; the circle is broken; I am alone, and the story of my father's life is ended. Are there spirits more blest than the planets of even That mount to their zenith, then melt into heaven — No waning of fire, no quenching of ray, But rising, still rising, when passing away? DR. GREEN'S PAPERS, The Papees. All that follows is not even the moiety of Dr. Green's literary productions. If the ground-plan should allow such a superstruct- ure, yet Ave do not think it best to insert all of his papers. He was a i^reacher, and yet we exclude his published sermons; those Avho wish to read them (and they may be read with profit) will find them in durable form, preserved in leather. With a few exceptions, his "memorials" — a great host — are left out; they are good; and yet, who would be sufficient to read them? We have consulted only the taste of the general reader, who is fond of that which is quaint, humorous, and practical. *■ In half a score of letters our attention has been directed to pub- lished articles, which we have been unable to find; so there is no intentional neglect. Waiving the "Papers" — for it would be sacrilege to spoil them — we cannot see how any one but a Methodist preacher could afibrd to criticise the "Life," as it would be a great labor and poor pay. However, we will have this understanding with the critic, aside: If he be a man, to examine himself, and be sure that he does not make the poor author feel like the hunter whose foot was bitten off by a wild jack — not the loss of the foot, or death, but the thing that bit it off, was the trouble. If the critic be a woman, we shall sit down and be sad or glad, according to the nature of the case. (284) DR. GREENES PAPERS. STORIES. Donor and the Ditcher. IT was night, when the orphan Marks was returning from his labor, with his spade on his shoulder, while dark, thick clouds hung upon the sky. Alone, and bending his weary steps to his humble hut, he had been taking a dreamy review of the past, and throwing his thoughts into the sunless future. He had nearly reached a point where the road crosses a deep ravine, on rather a high fill, some two miles from the city of N., when he heard just before him hurried voices — soon after, the rattling of wheels, and struggling like that of horses entangled in harness. A few steps brought him to a point where, from the light of his lantern, he saw, down the bank, what seemed to be some sort of a car- riage, which had been upset, while the horses were struggling to free themselves. He descended hastily'' to the spot, and found two ruffians dragging a man, who seemed to be rather advanced in years, from under the carriage, while the old man was calling upon them for God's sake to spare his life. Marks saw at once that the old man had fallen into the hands of robbers; 286 DONOR AND THE DITCHER. but by the free use of his spade he soon dispersed the robbers, and saved the old man, whom he assisted in restoring his carriage to a traveling condition again. After the old gentleman had expressed many thanks for the services that were rendered him, and inquired of Marks his name and place of abode, the two strangers bade each other good-night, the traveler to pursue his way, and Marks going to his obscure abode. This cir- cumstance soon passed away from the mind of Marks, and his thoughts returned again to those subjects that pertained more particularly to his helpless condition. Three nights after this event, at about eleven o'clock, when the fire had well-nigh disappeared from the hum- ble hearth of Marks, and he was about to drag his weary limbs to his scanty pallet, to seek that refreshment in sleep which was necessary to prepare him for the labors of the next day, suddenly his door opened, and there stood before him a tall figure, in the costume of a com- mon citizen, but wearing a youthful mask, who stood for some moments contemplating Marks with a most searching look. At length the stranger broke silence by saying, "Mr. Marks, your sorrows, your poverty, and your very secret thoughts, are known to me; for I have been your unknown hearer, and that God who hears the young ravens when they cry has directed me to come to you this night. When I was aj^proaching your door I heard what seemed to me to be conversation within; and as I wished to have an interview with you alone, I thought I would remain without, unnoticed, until your visitor might depart; but I soon discovered that there was but one voice, and that which I took at '■first to be a conversation was but an unconscious ex- pression in words of the thoughts which were strug- gling through your mind ; and to show you that I was DONOR AND THE DITCHER. 287 an attentive hearer, I will repeat what you said, or at least so far as I am able to recollect it. The first thing that I distinctly heard was, ^How hard is my lot!' and then you proceeded as follows: 'Mine has been a doomed fjimily. My father was a ditcher before me. Yes, I can see his bent form this moment, leaning over his spade, with the perspiration standing on his pale brow, and his thin and whitened locks matted with sweat and clay, and his old, seared hands trembling, while he would rest for a moment upon his spade. I also hear his moan now, when his aged limbs would complain at night of having been too heavily taxed by the labors of the day. But he was honest, and the little bread that he did eat was obtained truly by the sweat of his brow; yet, kind father, I never heard you complain of your lot. And my good old mother — how anxious you were ever to have something to refresh him when he would return from the toils of the day! and I do not know but you were happy. And when Sunday came, I remember your efforts to appear de- cent at church, and how cheerfully you accepted those seats prepared for the accommodation of the unoffend- ing poor; and I never heard you complain, only when age had impaired the hearing of my father, he said he would like to be able to have a seat nearer to the minister, so as to enable him to hear the sermon. Neither did you express fears on my account, farther than that it was to be feared that my physical strength would not be sufficient to enable me to succeed as a ditcher. But, kind parents, your labor is over, and you are at rest; and though your coffins are without pall or varnish, and no proud monument marks the place of your slumbers, yet your bed is as soft, and your slumbers as sweet, as those of any who repose under the finest 288 DONOR AND THE DITCHER. marble; and though there are none on earth to guard the spot where you rest in hope, except myself, yet the angel of the resurrection shall watch over your dust till that day. The last words of my father were, "Be honest, my boy; I have no legacy to leave you but my spade." And this is the same room in which you lived/ Then your thoughts seemed to turn upon your own case, and you said, 'If by my labor I could only pro- cure a support, food and raiment, that would be all that I could wish or ask for; but the number of labor- ers has increased, and prices have fallen, and labor fails to bring me a support; and when affliction or old age shall come upon me, luho will care for me then? ' A sigh followed; you ceased to speak; and finding that you were just about to lay yourself down to rest, I en- tered your door." "Well," said Marks, "you have heard all; and if you are poor, you will know how to appreciate it; and should you be rich, think not of it again ; for what you have heard, kind stranger, is but the expression of those feelings common to the poor." The stranger replied by saying, "Marks, I came not to spy out your poverty or mock your distress; but I came on an important errand. I have one question to ask you, and I wish you to be careful in your answer. Should you answer me correctly, it shall be well ; but if falsely, then all is lost. I want to know what is need- ful for you in the way of support. You said awhile ago that if by your labor you could procure food and raiment, that would be all that you wanted. Now, tell me your real wants, and they shall be supplied;' but should you ask for more, then you will forfeit my protec- tion. The name by which you shall know me is Bonorr To this Marks replied, "I can obtain by my daily DONOR AND THE DITCHER. 289 labor two shillings per day, which will amount to twelve shillings per week. Of this two shillings are required for rents, two for fuel, and two for clothing, which leaves me six shillings; this amount furnishes me with one full meal per day, during the working days, and I only have some refreshments upon the Sabbath, when during the week I partake, once or oft- ener, of but a piece of a meal. Had I seven shillings over and above my wages, then I would have two meals a day for each laboring day, and one on the Sabbath. But I would not ask for too much. It may not be that the meal on the Sabbath-day is absolutely necessary for me. You will judge of that yourself, dear Donor." Donor replied that the demands were reasonable, and that he should have the seven shillings, which he forth- with paid over to Marks, and took his leave, saying, " I will see you again, one week from this night. See that you are here at that time, and alone." After the departure of this mysterious stranger, Marks felt for some moments that he was a happy man. "Now there is before me," he said, "an assur- ance of competency — two meals per day, also one on the Sabbath." This good fortune so overpowered him with joy that he found it difficult to get to sleej); but before the week passed by Marks thought he ought to have said something to Donor about fuel, as he only had about half a supply; "and then ought not I to have a bit of candle to give me light to see how to take my evening meal, for which one candle would be a week's suppl}^?" and he began to wish the hour to roll round for Donor's return. At the appointed minute Donor appeared again, and inquired of Marks if he had all that he needed. Marks replied by saying, " My dear Donor, I thought 13 290 DONOR AND THE DITCHER. that it was needful for inc to have an increase of fuel, as I am often shivering with cold, and have not enough even to prepare my food; and a bit of candle to give me light while taking my evening meal." "Marks, these things are needful, and you shall have them. How much will be necessary?" "Three shillings more," said Marks. "Here is ten shillings," said Donor; "is that all you need?" " That is all," said Marks. "Seven days hence, at this hour, I will see you again. Eemember that I am to give you all you need, and no more. Take care always what you ask for." After the departure of Donor, Marks felt for some hours that he was supplied with a competency. "I have two meals for the laboring days, and one for the Sabbath, enough fuel for a fire every night, and a can- dle to eat my evening meal by." But Donor had not been long gone before Marks, when about to retire, thought it was a pity that he had failed to mention to iiim something about his scanty bed; for in order that a laboring man shoukl be comfortable, it is important that he should have a bed to rest upon, and his was so scant a pallet that it deserved not the name of a bed. So, on the return of Donor, he told him the nature of his wretched bed, and said that it was absolutely neces- sary that he should have a bed to rest upon, which Donor readily agreed to, and told him to fix his price, which Marks estimated at twenty shillings. This Donor gave him, together with the ten shillings which was his weekly supply, and asked him if there was any thing more necessary, reminding him at the same time of the danger of asking for that which lo did not need. Mnrks declared that was all. DONOR AND THE DITCHER. 291 He soon procured his bed, and having food, and fuel, and light, felt for several hours that he was well off. But at length he remembered that all the while he had forgotten his clothes; that he had none at all save such as were common to ditchers, and not at all suitable to go to church or take a walk on a Sabbath evening; and that the Sabbath-day might be made a blessing to him, it was necessary that he should have a Sunday suit, which Donor granted, and gave him three pounds for that purpose. In a short time Marks appeared in his suit of fine clothes, which created in him a new class of feelings. He at once felt inclined to be seen, which he never before desired, and soon began to make the acquaintance of j^oung gentlemen whose society he had never before enjoyed, having always previously been confined to the society of day-laborers. Mingling of evenings with j^oung men of pleasure, he heard them talk of the theater, opera, ball, and other places of amusement, and at once felt a desire to know some- thing of these to him unknown fountains of pleasure; and he sighed, and said within himself that man needed that which would make him happy, and that happiness must be a stranger unless he could be able to spend an evening or two in the week with young people, at some places of amusement; for a man has eyes and ears as well as an appetite for food; and that every one should see and hear a little of what is going on in the great world around us; and though he had food enough for himself, he ought to have something to set before a friend who might call to see him — and he anxiously awaited the return of Donor. At the appointed time Donor was there, and, seeing that Marks did not look so happy as he would have liked to see him, inquired into the cause of his apparent 292 DONOR AND THE DITCHER. gloom, and wished to know if there was any thing Avhich he needed; to which Marks replied by saying, "M}^ dear Donor, in order to he happy it is necessnry that I should have society; and as I have to receive those on Avhom I call, it will be necessary, first, that I should have a few shillings to spend of evenings, and also something to improve my stores, in order that I may be able to set something before my friends, should any chance to call on me." "These things are necessary, Marks, or at least you think so, and you shall have them; but tell me the amount." "Two shillings of an evening, twice a week, for places of amusement, and four per week in addition to my stores." This amount, together with the previous appropriations, were counted down to Marks, and Donor, reminding him of the conditions upon which he was to bestow his favors, took his leave. This week was a comparatively happy one with Maripings of the wings of the wind, the constant rumble of the thunder, like the rolling of wheels of the car upon which the tempest triumphantly rode, and the convulsive trembling of the affrighted earth, made a spectacle most awful to contemplate and unequaled in its sublime grandeur. Great God! what 372 THE TWINS AND THEIR ANGELS. is the power of man when thy wrath is kindled but a little? The storm is past; but its footprints shall be seen by a generation yet unborn. Almighty G-od, prepare us for that storm which shall make creation a wreck, and drift us before thy bar for trial ! 1835. The Twins and Their Angels. [This paper accompanied an engraving in the Home Cii^cle, rep- resenting two angels watching over twin-children asleep.] The subject of this engraving is so full of the deli- cate, the beautiful, and the mild, that to enable one to write about it appropriately many things are neces- sary; it seems to me that it would require a peculiar season of the year. When the year is growing old, and the trees have thrown off their summer robes, and every leaf, and bud, and flower is withered and dry, w^ould not be an auspicious time to write of youth, beauty, and innocence. Then, there is something in the place. To be sur- rounded by the busy world, where multitudes are struggling together for gain — where nothing wins but cunning, daring, and strength; where falsehood and crime of every kind offend the eye and ear, and you are allowed to think only of taking care of yourself — who could write of angels and children in such a place? But give me the mildest eve that summer ever gave, with not a breathless calm, but a gentle, soft-moaning air. Let not the spot be wild and lonely, nor yet too much disturbed and spoiled by art; still, there must be a human habitation; children must have a home. I want fields, also — not wide and sunburnt, though wide THE TWINS AND THEIR ANGELS. 373 enough to insure competence, well laid off, and thickly set with growing grass and yellow grain, and stocked with flocks and herds sufficient to fill the bill of nature's draft. I must have groves, also — not tall, and dense, and gloomy, but young and growing trees, full of life and foliage, with flowers, and clustering vines, and sweet-scented shrubs, and winding walks, neatly made and cleanly swept, yet without much show of cost; for I do not wish to think of wealth and poverty. I want neither a palace nor a hut. Give me music, also — not the sound of brass nor the deep tones of an organ, but the songs of birds and the fall of a neighboring stream. I ask not for the scream of the eagle in search of prey, but for the soft notes of timid birds; not the roar of Niagara, but the murmur of some small, gentle stream, that comes to slake my thirst, cool the air, and beautify the land. And now let me forget all unkind feelings, all ene- mies, all wrong, anger, hate, envy, all the unholy brood of kindred feelings — keep them far from me. And now to my delightful task; let me dwell awhile with angels and children. An angel is a spiritual, intelligent substance, sup- posed by manj^ to be the first in rank and dignity among created beings. The word angel is not properly a denomination of nature^ but of office^ denoting a mes- senger, a person employed to carrj^ orders. St. Paul calls angels ministering spirits; yet the word is now everywhere regarded as the denomination of a partic- ular order of spiritual beings, of great understanding and power. With regard to the existence of angels, there is not a doubt among those who believe in the truth of divine revelation. As to the relation they sustain to each 374 THE TWINS AND THEIR ANGELS. other, we are not particularly advised. Divines have divided them into nine different orders, and reduced these orders into three hierarchies; to the first belong Seraphim, Cherubim, and Thrones; to the second. Do- minions, Yirtues, and Powers; to the third. Principali- ties, Archangels, and Angels. The Jews divided them into four orders: first, Michael; second, Gabriel; third, Uriel; fiDurth, Raphael ; and contend that all take rank under some one of these leaders. Though these are matters about which we know but little, still we are satisfied that there is something by which they are dis- tinguished from each other. The very thought that they are all perfectly alike — all of the same rank and order — is any thing but pleasant to the mind, which is always seeking after variety. We learn from the Scriptures that they dwell in the immediate presence of God ; that they excel in strength ; that they are immortal; and that they are the agents by which God accomplishes his special purjioses of judgment and merc}^. Few things are more frequently mentioned in the Scriptures than the missions of an- gels, emplo^^ed by the Almighty to disclose his will, to correct, teach, reprove, and comfort fallen man. There are various opinions with regard to the time when angels w^ere created. Some think it was when our heaven and earth were made; but for this opinion there is no foundation in the word of God, as I under- stand it. Speaking to Job, God said, "Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth, and all the sons of God shouted for joy? " This shows clearly that angels are an order of beings who were in existence before our world w^as made. But those who believe that an- gels preside over the affairs of nations, countries, and THE TWINS AND THEIR ANGELS. 375 individuals, and therefore worship or pray unto them, are nothing more nor less than idolaters. Angels do God's will, not their own; yet it is no doubt their greatest pleasure to do so. St. Paul says, "Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister to them that shall be heirs of salvation?" No matter how high in rank or order they may be, they are yet nothing more than ministering sj^irits, sent to do such service as God may require of them. It is not wonder- ful, therefore, that the artist should conceive of them as attendants on children. Here it is worthy of re- mark that, while it would be wicked to pray to angels, or seek their interference directly in matters pertain- ing to our salvation, yet there is much more propriety in doing so than there can be in praying to saints, who are nowhere represented as ministering spirits. But in looking at the engraving, we are ready to ask. Why are these angels here? why stand they and look so intently upon these little ones while taking their noontide nap? Are they merely visitors? Who are they? and from whence came they? We have already told you, reader, that they are a peculiar denomination of God's creatures, of ancient birth, who are said to excel in strength. Their home is in heaven; they are a part and parcel of the immediate family of the Great Eternal, and have been oftentimes on parade, to see how" w^orlds were made, before our planet received its birth. Still, we arc not to suppose that the angels of God have nothing to do but to put on their crowns, ad- just their robes, w^alk about the throne to ask the news, and talk about the signs of the times. Such would be an idle, useless, unprofitable life, which could not be either pleasant to them or pleasing to God. A lazy angel, that would spend one-half of the time 376 THE TWINS AND THEIR ANGELS. in bed, and a large portion of the other half in dressing itself to receive a call from some other angel, and then talk the remainder of the time about the latest style of robes, as some of our earthly (would-be) angels do, would soon be turned out of heaven, on the charge of being a celestial loafer. Angels do not labor. Labor is peculiar to fallen creatures, and is one of the eifects of sin. But angels are employed, w^hich is no doubt their pleasure. How rational beings can be happy without feeling that they are useful in some way, I cannot conceive. There are no idlers in heaven — none living on the interest of their estates. It was probably the intention of the Almighty that all his intelligent creatures should be employed. Adam, in the garden of Eden, before the fall, was required to dress and keep it; and we doubt not that one part of the employment of angels is to watch over and take care of the weak and feeble in- habitants of earth. As to the amount of service rendered by angels, we know nothing more than what is revealed to us in the word of God; but we learn from the accounts given us there that there was, for at least four thousand years, a constant communication kept up between heaven and earth, through and by angelic visitations. But when the great plan of salvation was completed, and man was no longer under a theocracy'', their visible appear- ance ceased; and while we admit that they are still ministering spirits for those who shall be heirs of sal- vation, yet we do not think nor believe that in these days angel-visits are to be expected, as in those days when the plan of salvation was being made known to man; yet, as we approach the eternal world, in life's last hours, that impression which often seems to take THE TWINS AND THEIR ANGELS. 377 possession of the mind of the dying Christian, that an- gels are in tlie room and around his bed, I tbink de- serves respect. With regard to the disposition of angels, we find I'rom various accounts that they take a deep and lively interest in the welfare of the inhabitants of this world. They alwaj^s manifested a strong desire to look into the plan of redemption, to study and understand it; and they did learn enough about it to cause them to rejoice exceedingly at the nativity of our Saviour; for they shouted, "Glory to God in the highest; and on earth peace, good-will toward men!" They have ever been found prompt and ready, under the sanction of Al- mighty God, to bestow benefits on man. As to their number, this is nowhere laid down in the word of God ; but it is everywhere admitted to be very great. The prophet says: "I beheld till the thrones were cast down, and the Ancient of days did sit. A fiery stream issued and came forth from before him; thousand thousands ministered unto him, and ten thou- sand times ten thousand stood before him." Two mill- ions ministered directly unto him, and one hundred millions stood before him; so that one hundred and two millions of these ministering spirits were under the eye of the prophet at one time; and we are also informed that seventy thousand were in attendance as a mere body-guard to our Saviour at the crucifixion. The reader will bear in mind that there is a marked difi'erence between the angels of heaven and the "An- gel of the Lord," which we hear of so frequently in the Old Testament. The Angel of the Lord is the title given to Christ before his advent into the world. This Angel appeared to Moses at Mount Sinai, and led the children of Israel through the wilderness. He also appeared to 378 THE TWINS AND THEIR ANGELS. Abraham, Lot, Manoah, and others. But the "angels of heaven " came to conduct the Prophet Elijah and Lazarus to heaven, and were in crowds at the nativity and ascension of our Saviour, as well as at other times; and they are to be the reapers in the harvest-field of this world's ruin; for when God shall come to judge the world, the angels will be with him. Those who, in these days, attempt to have interviews with spirits, should try to invoke angels; they have long been in the habit of visiting our earth, and conferring with mortals, though always, we think, at the instance and by the authority of God himself; and if an angel were to come to me, without the authority of that God whom angels are bound to obey, I should not feel under any obligation to believe such a messenger; so that I have no hope of getting an angel to come and instruct me in heavenly or earthly things, unless I could prevail on God to send him. But the spirits of departed men and women do not belong to this ministering class or denomination of beings at all. The souls of bad men God knows how to reserve to the day of judgment, to be punished, while the souls of good men are with Christ, day and night, in the temple of God. They are "ever with the Lord;" thej^go in to "go out no more.'' The poet sang correctly when he said, in reference to the saints. Millions of forms all clothed in light, In garments of beauty clean and white — They dwell in their own immortal bowers, Mid countless hues of fadeless flowers, That bloom in that sun-bright clime. I think, dear reader, if you are not satisfied with the account that God has furnished you in his word of the future state, and you cannot get an angel to come to THE TWINS AND THEIR ANGELS. 379 your aid, your case is a desperate one; you will never be able to invoke the spirits of your departed friends. Your next interview with them will, no doubt, be in the land of spirits. Man was at first placed here to be a denizen of this w^orld, not to wander back and forth from earth to heaven at will. By reason of sin our earth has become cursed, and God in his mercy is going to remove the good of earth to heaven, as an abiding home. After that man fell, angels became media of in- tercourse between heaven and earth. Their ministry continued for thousands of years, in connection with the patriarchs and prophets. Then Christ became the medium; and when he was about to take his seat in the heavens, he promised to keep uj) the connection, not by angels, prophets, or the spirits of good men, but by the Holy Ghost. The Holy Ghost is the medium now; yet I doubt not that the angels still visit our. world, and take an interest in the affairs of mortals, but not for the purpose of revealing the secrets of the future. That the artist should have selected the hour of sleep as a suitable time for the angels to make a near approach to the objects of their charge is, we think, perfectly correct. It is at least possible that the greatest difficulty that angels may have, in their inter- course with mortals, grows out of the j^resent organi- zation of humanity. Man being in part terrestrial, and the soul having to act through bodily organs, or sense, is doubtless embarrassing enough to those who enjoy perfect freedom of action, such as belongs to a pure spiritual existence. When we are in a waking state we are prepared to associate with mortals only; but when the body is asleep, and the action of the soul no longer depends upon the bodily organs, but acts 380 THE TWINS AND THEIR ANGELS. freely and independently of them, such is a befitting season for angelic intercourse. We find in the case of Jacob, when in the wilderness of Becrsheba, being overtaken by the approach of night, he laid himself down upon the earth, resting his head upon a cold stone, and no doubt considered him- self cut off from intercourse with all created beings; and there, amid the stillness of night, and surrounded by an unbroken wilderness, he fell into a deep sleep, and during the hours of slumber the angels of heaven, in great numbers, called upon him. What the charac- ter of the conference between the angels and the spirit of Jacob was we know only in part; for, no doubt, the greater part of the scenes that happen at such a time are veiled from memory by the simple act of waking; and the private, interviews are, we suppose, generally kept a profound secret. Jacob, though, in this case, was permitted to recollect that while he slept the an- gels of heaven constructed a celestial stair-way from his humble pillow to the throne of God, and he was blessed with gifted sight long enough to see the angels de- scending and ascending, in crowds, from heaven to earth, and back to heaven again; and it maybe that while he slumbered thousands upon thousands came down and looked steadfastly upon the face of this noble man, and held communion with his spirit. What a grand and glorious privilege it was to be able to see this far-reaching ladder connecting heaven and earth, with those heavenly ones in shining rank, with rapid but easy haste, coming and returning and pass- ing each other in living streams! No wonder Jacob said, "God is in this place." You have seen a slumbering babe, before it was able to recognize its earthly parents, or receive thoughts or THE TWINS AND THEIR ANGELS. 381 impressions from mortal beings in any way, with a rap- turous smile upon its face — sure evidence that its soul was transported with joy — and did you not think that an angel had whispered some pretty thing in its ear? It cannot be an earthly sight or sound that produces such pleasant emotion. What can be more delicate, sweet, or glorious than to talk with a young immortal, and tell it of heavenly things, and show it beautiful sights? Were I an angel, I think I should be delighted to be the first to unfold the secrets of the heavenly world to one who had just entered on the borders of God's creation. How familiar with sacred things that child must have been, of whom we heard of late, who, when lifted up to see the corpse of a little playmate, and after looking for a moment on the pale features of its little friend, kissed it fondly, and then softly whis- pered in its ear, "Give my love to God!" Who does not love a child? With respect to the engraving as a work of art wo have nothing to sa}^, not being able to judge of true merit in that department; but, with respect to the de- sign, we think there is a display of the purest taste. Nothing could be more chaste and lovely. No one, it seems to me, can look upon it and not have the kind- lier feelings of his nature to move within him. I suppose the two sleeping children are twin-sisters, and that they have been placed in their crib to take a midday nap. From their wardrobe I should judge that they belong to a medium condition in life. They have, evidently, a living mother, who has for them a mother's care. Their skin is clean, their hair without tangle, and their garments neat and comfortable. They do not appear remarkably handsome, but healthy and finc- lookinc:. 382 THE TWINS AND THEIR ANGELS. The angel on the right, I should judge, has charge of the child nearest to you, and the angel on the left is the guardian of the other; and now, while mother and nurse arc away, and the children are sleeping sweetly, they liave made a near approach to the objects of their care, and are enjoying very much their intercourse with them. And now, reader, if you wish to know which character in the picture I prefer, I frankly confess I like the children best. Angels are mighty; they excel in strength; the children are feeble and helpless; an- gels are pure — that is, those you look upon are; the children are fallen and impure; the angels are from heaven; the children are of this earth; yet, notwith- standing all this, I like the children best. The marks of nobility and of the ultimate distinc- tion of humanity are much greater, we think, than the glory of angels. Angels, I grant, excel in strength; but when we compare the various points and traits of character in angels and men, and mark the difference between them, we think man must ultimately rise far above an angel's caste. There is among angels no such thing as parent and child, father and mother, sister and brother; each one is a character, individual and distinct. Man is repre- sentative and progressive. An angel is a simple nature; man has a complex nature; he is an immortal terres- trial — a compound of heaven and earth. Angels were created good, and so was every thing that God made; but man alone w^as created in the image and likeness of God himself. Christ took on him man's nature, but did not take on him the nature of angels. Man is the child of God and brother of Christ, and a joint-heir with Christ to the vast possession of the Great Eternal I AM. Angels are lolla's laugh. 383 God's servants and ministering spirits to man. Men and angels both fell. Man was redeemed at heavy cost, a great price; angels were not redeemed at all; and we are assured that our final exaltation, through Christ, is to that of kings and priests unto God and the Lamb forever and ever. Some who were once here on earth, weeping, helpless children in the arms of their parents, and who tasted of sorrow's cup, and encountered the rough storms of earth and the temptations of the evil one, are distinguished in heaven. Abraham's bosom and paradise are now convertible terms, while one of the songb which are sung in heaven is "the song of Mo- ses the servant of God, and the song of the Lamb; " and those w4io go from earth to heaven through Christ are ultimately to sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, at God's right-hand. O that man would but claim through Christ his birthright and noble destiny! How transcendently glorious is our future position and in- heritance, if we but pursue in this life the course w^hich God approves! May all who shall look upon this en- graving and read this sketch feel that they have been made better by so doing. isos. Lolla's Laugh. I AM happy to say that, sin-cursed and bad as this world is, once in awhile we meet with scenes w^hich greatly relieve the dark picture, reminding us that this earth was once a paradise — the residence of one made in the image of God. Not long since I saw a countenance and heard a laugh which one might make a pilgrimage to enjoy; and since I have been blessed with the sight of that 384 lolla's laugh. face and heard the music of that hiucjh I have soug-ht in vain among the recollections of the past for some- thing equally sweet and heavenly. I have lain down full-length at midnight in desert wilds, listened to the winds whispering through the pines, heard the low murmur of the waterfall, and the chant of the bird over his sleeping brood ; I have gazed upon the stars that had come out to watch in the silent sky, some hurrying along as bearers of dispatches which their neighbors did not understand, others tak- ing it more leisurely, while here and there were those who seemed cast off from the community of worlds — solitary, sweeping across the lofty dome, crowded to- gether in glittering ranks, as though they had assem- bled in obedience to an order for a grand review of worlds; and as I gazed, the meteor was shaken loose, set on fire, and went madly rushing through tlie heav- ens, leaving in its track a train of flame. 1 have stood upon the mountain peak, with the nations beneath me, and looked above the thoughts of mere men of the world, while wrecked and rainless clouds floated by, like drift-w^ood on the stream, and others sallied forth from their mountain harbors, like men-of-war menac- ing, while reenforcements hurried into rank from every direction, till at length the flash of arms and the sound of heavy ordnance — the roll of the "thunder-drum of heaven" — broke on eye and ear, and the unbridled winds kept uj) the martial music. I looked again, and all was calm; the clouds had drifted away, the sun was shining in his strength, and in the distant vale below the locomotive with its train dashed headlong through hill and dale, and overrunning streams; and I have followed them with my eye till in the distance they seemed as a chain of insects borne on by a ^ve-fiy. lolla's laugh. 385 Far as the eye could reach there lay before me the va- ried scenes of mountains and valleys, streams, towns, villages, forms, and solitary habitations, like a map spread out at my feet — as though Nature had thrown back her veil that she might display at once all her beauty. Here I have lingered until the day grew old, and the burning sun that flamed along the sky grew weary, and sank to rest among the clouds that cano- pied the West; and still I gazed in rapture upon the varying glory of the setting sun, the shifting forms and fiintastic shapes of the evening clouds, all gor- geously painted by his lingering rays — at one moment it seemed a vast fleet, vessel after vessel in full sail ; at another a mighty giant with the club of Hercules in his hand; at one time I saw two children away in the distance, one leading the other b}' the hand, and nt once recognized them as the "babes in the wood;" tlw» next moment a ponderous elephant appeared with his unwieldy trunk, and an African chieftain, spear in hand, mounted on his back; then rose a mighty cit}^ with battlements and towers — part had fallen into ruin, the rest was all on fire; at length, far in the distance, which the straining eye could scarcely reach, was a frail aerial bark, w^ith an angel's hand upon the helm. Such scenes have held me spell-bound, until old Night, the emblem of death, threw her dark veil around me, and the winds among the rocky heights and ancient cliffs sang the mountain's lament for the loss of day. But in all this I saw not Lolla's eyes, I heard not Lol- la's laugh. An object often partakes of the circumstances by which it is surrounded; yet the surroundings of Lolla arc unpretentious. She is not an inhabitant of a proud city with pebbled streets and granite pavements; 17 386 lolla's laugh. neither is her dwelling a costly marble pile; she lives in a country village, not even within hearing of the roar of the rail-car or the shout of the steam-whistle; her home is a neat, retired cottage. The time and cir- cumstance in which she made her appearance were not such as you might suppose. It was not a May-day oc- casion, neither was she introduced as the queen of flowers. The time was a Sabbath afternoon, the place a sick-room. The afflicted one was a venerable man who had passed his threescore years, thirty of which he had spent in the village and neighborhood as a physician, and, being a man of sound head, pure heart, and large benevolence, had won the affections of the whole community; and now that he was passing away, all were vying with each other in kind attentions and tokens of regard. Such was Dr. Edwards. He occupied a room in the house of his son-in-law, the Eev. Mr. C, the honored father of Lolla. The writer, together Avith a number of the Doctor's old friends, had met there by his request, as he wished once more to partake of the broken body and shed blood of the blessed Saviour before he should go home. The Eev. Mr. Gr., a weeping prophet; Mr. M., his pas- tor; Mr. N., his class-leader; and Aunt Casy, the guardian-angel of the village, with several others, were present. The service was conducted according to the impressive form laid down in the '-Book of Dis- cipline; " an infant sister of Lolla was dedicated to God in holy baptism, and the Eev. Mr. G. offered up the closing j)rayer. The Doctor's wife, and their daugh- ter, Mrs. C, were invited to partake of the holy eu- charist with him. When the last prayer was closed, Mr. N., the class-leader, commenced singing the famil- iar hymn. lolla's laugh. 387 On Jordan's stormy banks I stand, with the chorus, Heaven, sv/eet heaven, home of the blest, How I long to be there, in its glories to share. And to lean on my Saviour's breast 1 During the singing of this hymn those present, al- ready greatly excited, seemed to be almost overwhelmed with floods of glory. Here I introduce Lolla, a child of seven years, per- fect in form, exquisitely beautiful, with fair skin, blue eyes, light hair gently throAvn back, graceful in man- ner, and in ste-p almost as light and timid as a bird. She was neatly dressed and scrupulously clean. Her mind was naturally good, and well improved for one of her years. She had also enjoyed the advantages of Sunday-school instruction, and knew the ministers so well and loved them so much that she called each of them Uncle. While the hymn referred to w^as being sung, LoUa's mother threw herself upon the bosom of her father and talked of the meetinic of friends in heaven. Tears fell like rain from every eye, and several shouted for joy. This was the time when, and the place where, Lolla appeared. Shouting for joy, she had moved up to where I sat near her grandpa's bed, and, leaning against me, arrested my attention by gently shaking my elbow; and w^hen I looked around, there she stood, not trembling with fear, but perfectly self-possessed. She was weeping, yet not with feelings of mingled awe and dread, but as the angels do — if angels weep at all; and now, when an extraordinary burst of holy joy came up, she shook my arm again, and looking up into my face, herw^hole countenance beaming wnth delight, her eyes sparkling with supernatural joy, she laughed 388 lolla's laugh. the most musical, heavenly laugh that ever fell upon my ear. It was perfectly electrical, and thrilled along my nerves as though by accident a hand had struck an angel's harp. She seemed anxious that my attention should be continually directed to where the greatest signs of joy were apparent; and every time I caught her eye she favored me with that transcendently glo- rious laugh. O had I then only been blessed with gifted sight, I should probably have seen her angel shower- ing light and kisses upon her cheek! The service closed, and the friends slowly retired. After all w^ere gone save the family, with little LoUa sitting on my knee, I asked her: "Lolla, how did you feel during the service awhile ago?" "Uncle," she answered, "I was very, very happy." "Were you ever happy in that way before, Lolla?" "O yes," she replied, "many a time." "How long," said I, "since you were first happy? and how did you happen to get so the first time?" "It was more than a year ago. 1 went with papa to class-meeting one day, and Uncle G. told them all how they might get happy. I thought I would try it, and did so, and got happy directly." "And what did Uncle G-. tell you to do?" said I. "lie told all who wanted to get happy just to go by themselves, and get on their knees, and pray to God to make them happy, and God would do it; and when I came home I just went b}^ myself and got on my knees and prayed to God to make me happy, and I got so happy directly that I hardly knew what to do; and I have prayed to God and got happy the same way a great many times since." I then asked her if she had been praying to God to lolla's laugh. 389 make her happy that day. She said she prayed every day, but did not expect to get happy that day; that the Lord had made her so that time without her look- ing for it. A few moments before the close of this conversation her father came into the room, and, after Lolla had re- tired, gave me much the same account of her conver- sion, remarking that it was characterized by every sign of genuine regeneration, and that he had no doubt that she was truly pious; that she attended to all her Christian duties with great regularity and spirit. O that all parents would take the same care to im- press the minds of their children with heavenl}^ things! Then there would be more Lollas in the world. It was truly interesting to converse with this child. She regarded our blessed Saviour as the best friend of the family, and talked of going to heaven as the dear- est wish of her life. I think I never before saw so pure a human being as Lolla. The seeds of sin were never permitted to grow, but were crushed out by grace before they sprouted. At present she seems al- most unearthly; and I trust I shall never forget the countenance and laugh of Lolla. isco. NOTES OF TRAVEL. A Live Tennesseean Abroad. NOW for a trip. The weather is warm, times are dull; and we have just as good right to take a jaunt as anybody. Do like the Yankee: take your carpet-bag — something that you can carry yourself — and then wh^en the hackmen and porters are gathering around you, waving their whips, and shouting in your ears, like so many crazy persons, you can just lift your baggage and strike a bee-line for your hotel, and so get clear of these land-sharks. Just look! what large trunks people travel with these days! In nothing have times changed more these last fifty years than in the baggage of a traveler. The baggage-privilege of our fathers was a pair of saddle-bags; and there goes a trunk this moment that would hold fifty pairs — loaded, at that. Just take a look at your vender of books. He has not sold many to-day — his basket is yet full. Let us see what he has on hand: yellow-backs mostly; mere literary shavings, worse than nothing; there is one readable book — words that shook the world — a short ac- count of the Ecformation, or "Life of Martin Luther." How anxious he talks! he seems to recommend all the books in his basket with the same measured tone and manner. I suppose he has never read any of them. . (890) A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. 391 And here are the orange, apple, and candy dealers, consisting mainly of boys, who are the traveler's rats^ picking np all the loose dimes; for there are many men who will- purchase fruits, cakes, and candy when traveling who would never think of such a thing at liome. But where arc all the people going to? is the ques- tion. I suppose each individual has an object in view: one is going home, another leaving home; some are on business, others seeking pleasure. Here is one who is evidently alone; there sits a group of five or six who seem to have a common interest — out on a pleasure- trip; they must sit together, with the seats turned to suit. Bags, baskets, umbrellas, all find their way to the hooks or racks. Now they are seated, but not sat- isfied: the ladies must not be on the sunny side; now all are settled, and a pell-mell conflict of words ensues. "All aboard!" shouts the conductor. Do you not think that he takes great pleasure in being able to command a multitude in the way he does? He has no desire to leave any one; I would not charge him with such a thing; but I do think that he takes pleasure in seeing them almost left. The locomotive gave a deep moan, and then his heavy tread was felt upon the iron track, and we were off. Each one seems to turn, for a moment, to his own affairs. Let me see — have I got my checks all right? and have I not, in the bustle, lost my ticket? Here comes the conductor; what a dignified and business- looking man he is! "Show your tickets! " is the order; no if you please about it. I have mine, thank Provi- dence! but what's the matter there? That man has no thicket, and the conductor says he must pay more than those who have, and the man says it's all wrong; 392 A LIVE TEXNESSEEAN ABROAD. that be had not time to get one; the ticket-agent did not come till about fifteen minutes before starting, and there was quite a crowd about the little window; that just at this time the baggage-man commenced check- ing, when he had to go to him, and as soon as his bag- gage was checked the conductor shouted "All aboard! " that he was willing to pay w^hat other passengers did, but no more. Up goes the conductor's hand for the bell-rope, to stop the cars and put him out, and out comes that extra twent^^-five cents. See how angry the fellow seems; but it is of no use to resist men in au- thority. Have you ever been impressed with the fact that when a railroad is made through a section of country where no such thing had ever been seen before, you will at once find men suited to all the different kinds of emj^loyment — president, agents, conductors, brake- men, baggage-masters, and all? and after a few weeks they appear to adapt themselves to their situations in such a manner that one would think none of them would be able to do any thing else if they were turned out of office. You can find men everywhere that will do for every thing. Lay aside that book! the car is no place to read in. I am half inclined to believe that the greater part of those who read so much in the cars do not read much anywhere else. I know it is not the case with you; but here are rocks and trees, hills and vales, and run- ning streams, which you never saw before, nor any like them; no two trees in the woods are alike. And then, here are a hundred new faces, and all these peo- ple have more or less brains, and some of them have thoughts which are their own. Open your eyes, un- stop your ears. A book is a mere copy, and sometimes A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. 393 a poor copy at that; but here is the original — read the first edition. After all, I am not sure but we are generally more pleased with the copy than with the original; a mere imitation is often preferred to the reality. Suppose, for instance, that a pig Avere to get fast in the fence and begin to squeal, would we not have it loosed at once, and stop the dreadful noise? And yet, if some vagabond were to come to town and stick up bills to the effect that he would squeal the next night at the hall so much like a pig that you could not tell the dif- ference, are there not many who would go and give their money to hear him, and consider it quite an en- tertainment? But you are getting a little sleepy. After you have taken a nap, we shall have something more to say. There are two or three things connected with the eating arrangements, that affect me uncomfortably while traveling on the cars. First, I cannot keep the fact out of my mind that I shall have to pay the man at the door fifty cents whether I eat much or little. The other is, that in spite of myself there is a feeling of haste, so that I eat too fast. Is it not too bad that all the lost time of the train has to be made up by shortening the time for eating? Do you really believe there is an understanding between conductors and eat- ing-house keepers? I do not charge them with such a thing, but will tell you what I saw to-day. Know- ing that we were ten minutes behind time, I was on the lookout, and it happened that the conductor sat di- rectly opposite to me at the table, and while I was try- ing to get some one to attend to me, I saw that he had already been waited on. He had bacon and beans, and soon after a slice of beef, next came a blackberry pie 17* 394 A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. and a glass of milk, then a glass of water; so that ho did not lose one moment — did nothing but chew and swallow, and was soon done and gone; did not stop at the door to make any change; and in a few seconds more the old locomotive fetched such a scream that we all supposed it could not be held any longer. Here we all went as hard as we could tear, lest the whole busi- ness should cut out and leave us. Do you not think that there ought to be a law passed to the effect that all travelers on public conveyances should be allowed half an hour for each meal? The dinner was good enough, but we had not time to eat it. But was not that an awful breakfast we had this morning? After all, I am a little sorry that I said what I did to the landlord. If he had plucked up and quarreled with me all would have been right enough ; but when I told him that it was the meanest breakfast that I ever saw in a Christian country, he just looked distressed, and said he was sorry for it. I told him that we were all sorry, that it was a sorry business. I susj^ect that he was taken by surprise, that he did not look for so many passengers. If you noticed, on the first little tables we came to there was some show of eatables, and you did well to stop among those ladies; but uj) where I went it looked like starvation. I looked all around and saw nothing in reach but one solitary salt herring, and it lay off at a respectful distance from me on its side, ■with its back toward me. and looked so lonel}''- and defenseless that I could not find it in my heart to trouble it. I waited awhile with an air of gentle- manly dignity, but found that w^ould not do; I looked to the right and left — no person came to my relief; I struck the handle of my knife against the table, all to no avail; then rattled my cup in the saucer, but A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. 395 without success. About this time the large, red-faced man jou see yonder cried out, ''Is nobody going to bring us something to eat up this way?" I felt that I had the advantage of him, for I was still in a good humor, wdiile he, as the boys say, was ash3^ At length I saw a large, good-looking man with rather a benig- nant face, carrying coffee to one and another of the ladies, and took him to be the landlord, but thought it strange that such a clever-looking man should keej) so poor a house. I commenced winking and blinking, nodding and beckoning at him every chance I got. At length he concluded that he had better attend to me, so he brought me on a plate in one hand a little bit of the saltest ham I ever tasted, and a piece of bread ; and in the other hand a cup of coffee, and I went to work. A few moments after, I saw my friend that I took to be the landlord come to a vacant seat with a plate in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other; on his plate was a bit of chicken, a piece of bread, a little butter, and an egg. I began to look about for the eggs, but they never came in sight. He took his seat and began to eat, when I discovered that he was one of the passen- gers; seeing there was nothing to eat in reach of him. and not being able to get a servant to look up something for him, he went himself Yonder he sits now. The ham was so hard and salt I could do nothing with it; the bread had been sliced up until it had become so dry that the flies could not reach the moisture with their bills, for I saw several that looked very thirsty trying — they would stand up almost right on their heads, but it would not do. And the coffee had blue stripes in it! I can stand any other kind better than this. In general, by pouring off the top, and stopping a little before you get to the bottom, I would escape all 396 A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. the bad things, from the fact, as the old woman said about her bluing, it will either sink or swim; but these blue strij)es run all through in such a way that there is no getting around them. I would give the name of this hotel if I did not think that the landlord will do better next time. I have a thing or two to tell you, but here we are at B . We are under way once more, and the little troubles which one has to pass through ought to be borne with, though an honest man feels a little annoyed at being all the while treated as one who is under susjDicion. I had to show that baggage -master my tickets before he would check my baggage, lest I should smuggle a trunk into the cars without its corresponding traveler. Well, I think the women are up to them, for some of them have trunks as large as two good-sized trunks used to be; and I think it would be better if they al- lowed them two trunks each, if they would agree not to have such large ones. There is one thing which always strikes me on going into another car at these points of change, and that is, to find so many persons asleep. That is the time for all hands to be asleep. Just look around you at the number of sleeping subjects. They will all wake up just as soon as these new-comers all get seated. Wherever you find two in a seat you will find them wide awake; but those who have whole seats to them- selves are sui;e to be asleep. Look at that man over there — he is sound asleep, but too uncomfortable to hold out long; he will move now in two minutes, and that without waking — that is, without opening his eyes. There! I told you so! that fellow is wide awake, and has been all. the time. Well, I would not act the hyp- A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. 397 ocrite in that style to get a feather bed to lie on, tired as I am ! Do you not see how they are waking up al- ready, all over the car? How shamefully selfish we are! But these ladies take uj) a whole bench, and no mistake. You need not say to them, as the boy said to the hen he was trying to set, "Spread yourself!" for they are doing it in style. I wish I could see this country; but railway travel- ing is the poorest of all modes of travel, so far as seeing the country is concerned, l^early half our time we are the same as under the ground — at least, we cannot see out — and when that is not the case, if you look out you are liable to get a cinder in your eyes, which will put an end to your seeing altogether for awhile. I wish the water -screen ventilation were introduced every- where; but in that case you can only breathe with comfort w^ien in motion, so that there is a continual putting up and pulling down of windows; and, farther, I should like for some person to make a catch which all will approve. In almost every new car I get into there is some new fashion of fastening up and letting down the windows. You remember the trouble I had with that lady, awhile ago. 1 am glad that she is able to sleep, poor thing! You did not see the beginning of the matter. Well, it was just this way: I saw her try two or three times to let down her window; why she wanted it down I could not tell, unless it was because it was up. Did you ever see a lady who found a piece of furniture where she wanted it? A chair never stands in the right place. Bless them ! they are always " housekeep- ing," no matter where they are. The ladies of my party carried this matter so far the other night that they took one of the beds out of the room, so that they 398 A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. might set their trunks around the room to their notion. But I am off the subject. As I was saying, she tried and tried, two or three times, to get her sash down, but could not, and when, at each failure, she looked about to see if some one would not come to her relief, I at last became a little nervous, and determined to help her; and there is where I made a mistake. I did not know any more about putting down the window than she did. Now, let me give you a piece of advice: never attempt to aid a lady in doing any thing, unless you understand it; for there are two sins a woman never forgives, to wit, ignorance and a want of courage. My error was in trying to assist the lady without knowing how. We both got to work together at the old window. She was trying to pull up a blind that was below, and I was trying to let down the sash, and I tried every thing that appeared to hold it, till at last I touched some- thing, I am sure I do not know what, and the window fell as quick as lightning, and caught the lad3^'s finger under it; and she certainly would have fainted if there had been a good place to fall in. What to do with her bruised finger she did not seem to know. She would shake it with all her might, and then stick it into her mouth, and I all the while saying, "Are you much hurt, madam? are you hurt badly? I am sorry; I did not intend to do it." She turned her back upon me, and would not say one word; but I think she had some very rugged thoughts. I took a seat not far from her, and looked as much distressed as I could, waiting for her to pardon me. At length she became quiet, and I ventured to ask, "Does it give you much pain, madam?" Then she spoke for the first time, and said that it was very sore, but that when she got somewhere (I could not tell where), and got something (I could not hear A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. 399 what) to put on it, it would ease the pain. But I think it is easy now, from the way she sleeps; though I have no idea that she has forgiven me, or that she would on any account let me help her again. What a tale she will tell her husband about me! I have often thought that noisy children are great bores; but I tell you now, the best thing that you can take into a railroad-car, to keep the people off and se- cure plenty of room, is a cross, dirty child. That lad}- there, with her two children, has kept those two whole seats — room enough for four grown persons — for a hun- dred miles; and notwithstanding that several times in the last two hours we have been so crowded that per- sons have had to stand, yet I have not seen any one manifest the slightest disposition to take a seat with her. So cross children are good for something, after all. I have just had a long talk with that old gentleman yonder. He wanted to know my name, to begin with, and I told him; but I do not think I would have an- swered civilly all the questions he asked if he had been a young man. Old people will ask questions in that Avay. He did not know but he might know some of my kin, and thinks he does; says he knows a man of my name, and asked his old lady if she did not think I resembled him. He also wanted to know where I lived. I told him that, also; and after a little surprise that any one should wander off so fftr from home, he wished to know whether people in my parts sowed oats, and whether or not they had the rust, telling mc that they had rusted powerful had in his neighborhood, and that Mr. Clark, his nearest neighbor, had turned the stock on his. I asked what he thought was the cause of the rust. He said he reckoned the ground had just give 400 A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. out producing that kind of growth, and then wanted to know my opinion. I told him the w^eather was too wet at one time, and too hot and dry at another, and made the sap in the oat sour, and it swelled and burst, and bled to death. He said it mout he that, for all he knowed. Well, here is the city of E., and we shall have to run the gauntlet again with the hack-drivers and porters. I do wonder if there could not be some plan adopted to save a poor, tired traveler from such an ordeal. Kow, just think of it — two nights out; your eyes full of cin- ders; the sides of your head and elbows all bruised by the sharp corners of the cars. And that is not all; you have had no time to wash, shave, and change your linen ; and you feel as if you wanted nothing in the world so much as to be let alone, and for everybody to get out of your way and let you pass. But instead of that, before you can get off the car, they poke their whips in at the "windows, meet you at the platform, take hold of you as you go down the steps, come up before, behind, and on both sides, three deep, all halloo- ing at the top of their voices, "Want hack? want car- riage? Good carriage! good carriage! Take you to any place. Grot checks? give me 3^our checks; take, you cheap!" Then one w^ill say to another, "He's going with me." This is kept up, in spite of you, till you get quite away from the depot, no matter how often you say, "No, no; do n't want you; don't want any thing to do with you." If you are silent, they only think you are hard of hearing, and halloo still louder; so that all I can do is to endure, and wait for deliverance. A friend of mine tried the plan of utter silence; did not notice any who called to him, not so A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. 401 much as to turn his eyes toward them. One fellow, who was determined to get him into his hack, followed him closely, and shouted in his ear that he would take him to this, that, and the other hotel, or to the depot on the other side of the town, but could get no answer until at length, in despair, he said, "I will take you to the deaf-and-dumb asylum!" Those hackmen want nothing but money; they do not care where you are going, or what may become of you. While the greatest number of them were within hearing, I said, "You do not charge any thing for rid- ing, do you? If there is any thing to pay, I prefer to walk." In a moment their whips went down, like sol- diers trailing arms, and there was no more contention among them about who should have the pleasure of carrying the gentleman; and the whole pack that was dogging me turned to teasing somebody else, and I got clear. Did you notice that old gentleman who got into such a difficulty about his baggage? He has given up his checks, and does not know who has them; and his old lady is in a peck of trouble about it. He has forgotten the name of the hotel which he told the check-man he was going to. When old people travel by public con- veyance, the}' ought to have with them some young person, who could take care of the baggage and obtain seats. When that old gentleman left home, he thought that he would either be the only man on the cars or the principal one at any rate, and that everybody he should meet would be glad to see him, and anxious to know where he was going, and ready to render him aid and comfort. If he was in a buggy, with his trunk tied on behind with a plow-line, and old ISTell, or some other quiet beast, to draw him, and liis old lady by his side. 402 A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. he would know wliat he was doing; but these conduct- ors, checks, porters, hotel -drummers, and hackmen have so confused him that he does not know what he is doing. I thought, when he gave u]) his checks, that he did not know w^iat he was about. Not one among the hurry- ing crowd around him cares a copper for him, nor has any one time to make an effort to relieve him of his embarrassment. I do not believe that he intended to stop in this town at all; for I heard the old lady say, "Why can't we go on, just like the rest of the people?" while the old gentleman does not seem to know whether they are going on or not. Had I not been so hurried, I would have assisted him out of his difficulty. The last I saw of him he was trying to describe the man who had taken his checks, and turning round and round, looking after baggage that was fl^^'ing in every direction — some on express-w^agons, some on the tops of omnibuses, some attached to hacks, some on hand- barrows, some on the shoulders of negroes, and some in the hands of gentlemen. But little did the hack- driver care what sort of looking man he was who had taken the checks; all he wanted was for the old people to get into his hack, pay twenty-five cents each, and then get out again. And, to make the matter worse, the old lady was scolding at him for not having man- aged it better; but I cannot blame her, for her new maroon dress and finest cap are in that trunk, and just to think that she may never lay her eyes upon them again — it is too bad ! Bless the good old people ! I trust they will soon get aJl together again. AVe have now left the mountains behind us. "What a vast number of Southerners are hid away among these h'ills from the burning heat of summer! The mount- ains of Tennessee and Yircfinia are destined to be the A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. 403 summer home of the cotton, sugar, and rice planter. Montgomery" White Sulphur Springs, as the site is called, where we were yesterday, will at no distant day rival Saratoga. Its accessibility, its beauty of location, and variety of waters, must make it a place of great resort. At present it lacks shade; but its growing groves will soon supply that. I was much pleased with the char- acter of the visitors. Among the eight hundred or one thousand persons here, there was no gambling, and, I think, very little drinking. I did not hear an oath sworn, even by a servant; and I believe that out of the whole number of persons present they could not find eight who were willing to dance. They have more ra- tional amusements. But, to change the subject, I have one sad thing to tell you. You, too, are going to lose your name; from this time forward, during your tour through the East- ern cities, your name will be No. 26, or some other number. Travelers are known here only by numbers, checks, tickets, and coppers. No. 26 sits in a certain chair at the table ; No. 26 wants a hack ; w^hen j^our bell rings, the servant is sent to wait on 26; the merchants send your bundles to 26 ; and if you were to die. No. 26 would be buried. Porters care nothing for the name you have had printed in large letters on both ends of your trunk, if you have one, so that people may know whose trunk it is; but with a piece of chalk they put upon it "26," in large figures. No. 26 at last pays his bill and goes away, and at the next hotel is given an- other number, and again has his name suppressed; but when you are traveling, who cares where you are from, or where you are going, or what your name is? Show your ticket — that 's the thing. So in the cars you are a ticket, in a hotel you are a number, in a hack you are 404 A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. twenty-five cents, and in an omnibus you are six cents. You are not to hear your name called again until you recross the mountains. "Well, here we are, in this city of the nation, and the day is before us. But you will no doubt divide your time between your book and the lions of the place, and be able to tell all about the improvements of the Capitol, the additional painting and sculpture, the Patent Office, the Smithsonian Institute, the Washing- ton and Jackson Monuments, and the departments of Government generally. The ground which you are go- ing to travel over has been so worn by others that I do not think I could make a track in that direction if I were to try. I am not a lion-hunter; the fixct is, lions are better understood at present than smaller game; and besides, it is rather dangerous sport. A young gentleman once said to an old African traveler, " Colonel, is it not mag- nificent sport to hunt lions?" "Yes," said the Colonel, "you would no doubt enjoy hunting lions very much, but it would be a very different thing if the lions were to take it into their heads to hunt you." So take care that you do not provoke the lions to hunt you. All the big men and great institutions of the nation have already sat for their likenesses; my place is among the masses, and my specimens from the rank and file; so that when I get a good likeness it is a type for the million. But our work of discovery will be greatly lessened by the fact that the Kev. E. Carr, of Tennessee, is in the city, and is putting things to rights. He has done up Petersburg and Richmond; has not been here long, but such is his industry that he will make a short job of this city. He has set A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. 405 Smitbson right with respect to his great General Con- ference picture; found one of the reverend doctors whose.v face had been overlooked; caused a prayer- meeting to be introduced into one of the principal ho- tels; visited the President — but unfortunately he was not at home, having gone to Bedford Springs, so he could not see him; but Brother Carr dropped him a note to the eifect that he (the President) should give his heart to God and pray for rain; and if the Presi- dent's heart is as far from God as the earth seems to be from rain, it was timely advice. !N"ow for a tramp. Well, here we are; another day spent, and night is upon us. It has been very hot. Do you not think if the sun were taken down that the Yankees would find out some plan to illuminate the world with gas and give us light enough without so much heat? For my part, I am glad the sun is out of reach, or the people up this way would be for tr^'ing it; for there is a general dis- satisfaction with the location of the hills, hollows, and streams, and as far as they are able, they are changing the wdiole of them. Some person has well said of this place that it is a city of magnificent distances; to take a hack I can see nothing, and to go on foot wears me out. I never go into a large city but the question natu- rally suggests itself to my mind, Where do all these people get a support? I suppose, however, that each and all of them could give an answer if called on to do so; at any rate, the inhabitants of this city have one comfort — the grounds around the Capitol, than which none more beautiful are to be found anywhere. The citizens, in self-defense during the dull season, have established a plan for recreation which I think is a good one. For a gentleman and lady to dress thorn- 406 A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. selves up and go out to look and be looked at, while all the rest of the inhabitants are either in their houses or else at work, is any thing but pleasant, and one soon feels like a loafer; but these people have reduced to a system this thing of going out to show themselves. On Saturday afternoon the city band repairs to the grounds of the Capitol to make music, and the people (all the people) dress themselves up in their best, go to these grounds, and pass the time in promenad- ing and listening to the music. And now, lest I forget it, let me say, I wonder that the thousands who visit here do not take items in the fitting up of grounds. Three things, and three only, are necessary for the purpose: trees, grass, and gravel. Bushes, vines, and shrubs, are beautiful things, but they belong together, and whenever the attempt is made to mix them up with forest trees and grass, the Avhole effect is lost — it is neither a flower-garden nor beautiful grounds. The offense given to the eye is not all that is objectionable: the shrubs obstruct the wind, and. as a matter of course, increase the heat, besides forming a protection for flies, and coverts for Avorms, bugs, insects, and weeds. I had rather go from such a place than to it; but give me smooth trees, green grass, and well-graveled walks, and nothing can come nearer to enchantment. Fount- ains soften and cool the air, and rustic seats are con- venient to visitors, but neither are essential to the construction of grounds. Well, as I was going to say, I made my way to these grounds, and walked around until, finding myself in pretty much the same company all the time, I took my stand by a tree, and watched the multitude as it passed. You cannot see any thing like it anywhere else that I know of —Broadway, New York, is not like it; there A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. 407 men prevail, and women arc generally young or mid- dle-aged, not man}^ children; but here there were old and young, men and women, servants and babies, all in their best outfit; some came by slowly and quietly, others seemed to be in a great hurry, some looking at others, some at themselves; some in groups, others aione; those so old and feeble they could scarcely walk, and these so light and puffed up that they could scarcely keep down to the ground. One man came by puffing and blowing — his dimensions w^ere immense, and reminded me of a retreating army, which always carries its baggage in front. He leaned back at such an angle — to balance, I suppose — that the lowest tip of his coat-tail was seen following on several feet be- hind him. The next person that arrested my atten- tion I think was from the hills of Vermont, and I am of the opinion that he is in some way interested in a patent churn; is about six feet four inches in height, and exceedingly lean ; with pantaloons braced up as high as his arms would permit, which made them too short at the bottom; his coat was blue, wntli metallic buttons, long in the waist, short in the breast, and its tail like that of a martin's; his vest was short and buttoned very tightly; around his neck was a w^hite handkerchief spotted with blue, tied remarkably tight; his hat was a real bell-crow^n, and being too large, was tied extra tight at the band, which gave the rim pecul- iar and unmanageable twists. His motion w^as ex- ceedingly elastic, and he moved about with a kind of convulsive start, but keeping constantly in motion, ex- cept when stopping to read the signs that were stuck up on the trees throughout the grounds warning per- sons to "keep off the grass." I never saw him pass one of these little boards without first stopping to read 408 A LIVE TBNNESSEEAN ABROAD. it. But his main object, from first to last, seemed to be to keep ont of everybody's way, and at the same time to keep off the grass. Look at him when you might, he was dodging. I tried twice to overtake this live Yankee, and would gladl}^ have given a dollar to talk with him five minutes; but his habit of dodging pre- vailed, so that I could not get near him. In one in- sta-nce I saw him fairly routed. A gentleman, two large ladies, and a child, came meeting him, and com- pletely filled up the walk. He looked to the right and to the left, but they did not give wa}^, and "Keep oif the grass" was ringing in his ear':; so seeing no way around, over, or under, he suddenl}' whirled and took the back track, walking with great rapidity; and as that path led out one of the gates, the last I saw of him he was dodging the hacks and hackmen about the entrance, and is probably dodging somewhere at this moment. I will venture just here to assure his wife, children, and all concerned, that he will never be run over. You may tangle him up among horses, mules, ox-wagons, drays, stages, carts, omnibuses, carriages, and railroad-cars, but he will never be run over. I suspect that when he left home for the great Federal city, his friends warned him against this danger; but they may all feel perfectly easy on that subject. After all, it is a useful part of an education to learn to keep out of the way. Those who cross Broadway find use for it. I hope to overtake this dodger somewhere yet. These Falls have something real about them. No man ever came here and went awaj^ disappointed, say- ing they were all a humbug. Travelers in the New "World will come here, no matter where else they may wish to go. What changes have taken place since I A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. 409 was first on these banks! There was no town here then, nor was there a reguLar conveyance to the phice from any direction. A stage ran from Albany to Buf- falo, but it did not come hy the Falls; and as to rail- roads — there were none of them in the country at that time. I remember leaving the stage at Syracuse, be- ing told that it was the only place where I could pro- cure a i^rivate conveyance to the Falls; and all that I could find there was a little one-horse wagon, a seat across the center, with a buffalo-robe on it for a cush- ion. In this I made my way to the Falls through a very spai'sely-populated country; and when I told peo- ple on the route tliat my only object was to see the Falls, some of them looked at me in a manner which seemed to say, "Well, young man, if that 's all you are after, you are poorly employed." Some who lived within hearing of the roar of the waters had never been to look at them. About the only man I met with on the way who gave me any encouragement was an Indian preacher named Peter Jones, who told me I would be fully paid for my trouble. It was about the 20th of June, and there was not a visitor fi'om the States, that I can remember. There Avere two English fiimilies there, and they pretty well filled up the only house of entertainment, which was rather a small es- tablishment. Eailroads, hotels, omnibuses, hacks, sus- pension bridges, and Maids of the Mist, had not been thought of in connection with this place. The way we reached Goat Island was by a narrow trestle-walk with a rail on one side, across the main branch of the American chute, and a very imperfect little bridge across the smaller chute; both intended for footmen only; horses and wheels had as yet never found their way to the island. I descended the bank somewhere IS 410 A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. on Goat Island by a ladder, and crossed over to the Canada shore in a canoe. I have been here often since, but think the Falls have never appeared so interesting to me as they did in their unadorned grandeur on my first visit; there was more of the terrible about them then; the bridges, roads, ferries, and tower, have a taming influence. How different the elements when bridled and held in subjection from what they are when they have great mass-meetings, and get up mobs, and run riot! How harmless that lucifer-match w^hen just ignited! it will not even fire your cigar; but see the burning mount- ain breathe sulphurous smoke and fiame, at one time darkening the heavens, and again, under the influence of a mighty throe, pouring out liquid fire, lis though Tophet itself had exploded, inundating town and coun- try. Or, look at the prairie on fire, burning with a madness which seems to be accumulative, and spread- ing with the haste of an evil spirit on an errand of vengeance. The wind — at one time so calm that it would not move the festoons of a spider's web, but when called out on parade or gotten into a rage, the mighty oak is taken up as a very little thing, and cities are scattered before it as a bundle of straws. See that little, gentle, softly -gliding brook, meandering slowly through field and grove; but now stand on this bridge and look at the water — every drop seems to be brim- ful of wrath; and, look any way you will, it appears to be hunting around, like some enraged monster, for something to destroy; the very rocks are torn to pieces, the earth seems trembling with fear; and the thought of my own fate, were I in its power, fills me with dread ; and when you follow the water to where it makes that dreadful plunge, and go below, eaqh troubled and angry A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. 411 drop seems to be looking around as though anxious to see what ruin it had wrought; so that in contemphiting this greatest of all natural curiosities, I experience a mino-led feelini>: of fear, awe, and delio;ht, and do not know which of these sensations predominates; I think, however, that the improvements around here have had the effect to somewhat dispel the first of them; still, it is a fearful place, and holds me awe-struck for the greater part of my time ; and fond as I am of a plunge- bath, I shall never get into these waters, unless it be by accident. Do you intend to see the man walk a rope across the river this evening? There is no use in asking that question, for I know you would sit here all day work- ing into a bit of table-rock with your pen-knife, just to see what it is made of, rather than go a mile to wit- ness one of the greatest feats ever performed. Yet. I think 1 could get you with me sight-seeing this time if it were not for the fact that you saw a man hanged when you were a boy, and afterward had so many bad dreams about it, you promised yourself never again to look upon any frightful scene. Well, my way of getting on with such a case is this: If the fellow falls, it will be his nerves that suffer, not mine. It is thought by many that the man who was to ride over on the back of this daring r©pe-walker is about to back out, and although that was to form a chief portion of the excitement of the day, yet I could not blame him if he did; I should prefer, in such a case — if it were not for the name of riding — to make the trip on foot. Well, work away among these strata of rocks, and on my return I will tell you all about what I saw, for you will want to know what happened, notwith- standing you won't go yourself. 412 A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. Back again! '^Well, did you see the man walk the rope?" "I did that!" "But did he carry the other man on his back?" "Yes, he carried the man on his back, and no mistake! When I went down there my first thought was to take a position on the bank two hundred yards above the rope, so as to be out of the crowd and run no risk of being pushed off the bluff: but I soon found that the crowd would extend for a quarter of a mile above and below where the rope was anchored; so concluded, if I had to be in a crowd, to get as close as possible, and went down toward the rope, but discovered that several acres there were in- closed by a high fence, inside of which one could only enter by paying twenty-five cents. I paid it, and was let in, but met with another difficulty: all along on the bluff above and below the rope and inside of the fence seats were erected in amphitheater form, and only those who occupied them could see any thing, as their height in the rear obstructed the view of all who ■were standing on the ground behind, them. Here I was told that by paying another quarter I could secure a seat; I paid the money, and took one within twenty yards of the anchor on the American shore; so that the entire rope, man, and all, were in full view, and could not be obscured. My only fear was that the multitude behind us might press until seats and all would go over the bluff, which was about one hundred feet perpendicular; but I soon forgot the possibility of danger in that direction. The place where the rope was thrown across was about five hundred yards above the wire bridge. The length of the rope from anchor to anchor was eleven hundred and forty feet; it was about one inch and a quarter in diameter, and its low- est dip in the center about one hundred and fifty feet A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. 413 above the water; the slack, or swag, in the center was, from the best measurement I could make with my eye, about twenty-five or thirty feet below the level of the anchors. These depressions seemed to be mainly near each shore, so that I should judge that the descent on each side for fifty yards was at an angle of at least twenty degrees, which I supposed would be extremely difiicult for Monsieur Blondin to overcome with a man on his back. The guy-ropes were small — not more than half or three-quarter inch in diameter, and ex- tended about one-third the distance across from each shore, so as to leave about one hundred and thirty yards in the center without any side support — nothing but the single rope. Such is the construction of the web that this two-legged spider has sjDread across this fearful stream, this dreadful gulf "The crowd was immense — never did I see so many human beings together before; it was estimated at from thirty-five to forty thousand. At about four o'clock Elondin and some of his friends made their appear- ance at the end of the rope, near where I sat. Ten or fifteen minutes were spent in little j^reparations and conversation before Monsieur made his start, which gave me an opportunity of examining his person fully. He is apparentl}" twenty-eight or thirty years of nge, looks as though he Avould weigh one hundred and forty pounds, though I have been told he does not weigh over one hundred and thirty; his features are rather smooth and handsome, while his countenance is effeminate; light hair and blue eyes; his form and proportions were just and symmetrical, and, to judge from his ap- pearance, his habits must be perfectly temperate, while the whole expression of the man was gentle and amiable; there was no semblance of recklessness in 414 A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. him. His head was bare; his shirt and pantaloons, which seemed to constitute his wardrobe, except fancy- colored straps that passed over his shoulders, I took to be of thick; heavy, elastic silk goods. His feet were covered with close-fitting moccasins, made of heavy, dressed buckskin; his hands were bare, and seemed rather large for a man of his size. His balancing-rod, I think, was about fifteen feet long, one and a half inch in diameter in the center, tapering a little to the ends, and a gentleman near me said it weighed thirty-two pounds; if so, it must be made of very heavy timber. He is now hanging to his side a bundle of papers, and putting some strings into his pockets, for what pur- pose I know not. At this moment a brass band, which I had not noticed before, commenced performing a piece of music in quick time. Blondin's rod is in his hand, and, with a graceful bow to the multitude, he glides forth upon his pilgrimage on this almost invisi- ble thread across this boiling gulf. He set out in a fast trot, almost a run, which thrilled ten thousand nerves; now and then a short grunt could be heard in various parts of the crowd, as though some one was suddenly shocked with pain. But Blondin went for- ward, sometimes walking slowly and with caution, then suddenly turning his head down on the rope and his heels high in the air; first on one foot then on the other, performing all kinds of antics, till at length he passed over to where the guy -ropes extending from the Canada shore connected; here he stopped, took the strings from his pocket, tied his balancing-rod to the main rope and a guy, and came back over the main rope, sometimes walking on his feet, then on his hands, at times stopping to stand first on his feet, then on his head; now he is below the rope, traveling hand over A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. 415 hand, the next moment he is 'skinning the cat,' as the boys call it; now he has dropped below the rope and is hanging by one foot; now he is lying directly across the rope, and moving his arms and legs as if swimming; he is on his feet again, turned a somersault forward, then backward. 'Well, he will never fall after that,' said one. He now returned to his rod, untied it, and walked on, performing various feats, until he was received with wild acclamation by the host on the other shore and the music of the band — for there was a band on each side of the river. After a delay of twenty minutes the band on the farther shore began with a thundering chorus, and Blondin again appeared on the rope, with a man upon his back, whom he brought safely across to the American side in about twenty minutes; he walked slowly, though, and with great caution, and five times set the man down on the rope to rest, which consumed at each time a little more than a minute. In ascending the heavy grade of the rope on the American shore I thought he had about as much as he could do, and on reaching the land he looked flushed and exhausted, while the man he car- ried was rather pale — though he may look that way all the time. There was long and loud cheering, then the multitude dispersed, many no doubt greatly disap- pointed, for thousands came to see him kill himself; and as soon as it is undei*stood there is no danger, they will cease to come." I have often heard it said that it takes a great many different kinds of people to make a world ; and whether it is necessary to have so many kinds or not, there is quite a variety'- in human character. While we are told by St. Paul that of one blood God made all the nations that dwell upon the face of the earth, yet, from some 41G A LIVE TEXXESSEEAN ABROAD. cause or other, unknown to us, there are a great many pliases and castes to be met with. After all, the char- acter of places differ about as much as the character of men. After you went to sleep last night, I was thinking about this place, and it is trul}^ remarkable. The whole city is sustained by travelers, or nearly so. There is a little show of machinery moved by the rapids; a few dozen Indians are employed on bead-work; and a few persons are engaged in making ornaments out of the spar taken from fragments of the Table Rock. The sales of bead-work and spar ornaments are almost ex- clusively to travelers; so that if the travel were cut off, this city would be dried up in short order. The various plans practiced to get money from visitors are really worth studying; let us look at them for a few minutes. Hotels are necessary, and here they are. The omnibus men must be provided for; so the trains stop at so great a distance from the hotels as to make w^alking almost impossible. The great number of persons in- terested in omnibuses thus find a support; for the depot might as well have been in the middle of the town as anywhere else. There was one mistake made in the location of the town — it is too near the Falls for the general interest of hackmen ; but it is curious to see how this difficulty has been overcome. If 3'ou stop on the American side, they will tell you that if j^ou wish to have a good view, you should go over to the Canada side; should j^ou stop on the Canada side, then Goat Island is the great place; so that a hack must be brought into service, and you must go down and cross on the great suspension bridge. That is not all. They will ask you if you are not going to see the Burning Spring, and Lundy's Lane, and the Whirlpool, and the A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. 417 Devil's Den, and Bloody Eun — " everybody goes to see these places." Well, now for a trade with a hackman, and there are probably five or six present, all interested in the same company; and if there is one of them who has his hack engaged, and cannot take you at any price, he will be the first to off'er his services. He asks a price that per- fectly astounds jow^ and Avhich he knows you will not give. You complain that his price is too high, upon which he turns away, with superb independence, and says that he will not take you for one cent less. At this moment up comes another, and speaks in a low tone, as though he were afraid the first would hear him, "I will take you for so much." But the first hears him, and pretends to become angry that this second man should work so cheap, and break down prices. JN'ow, you think, is your time to close in ; and you agree to go with the second; and, after all, you pay two or three prices. So if 3'ou go sight-seeing, you will pay five dol- lars for about two hours' service. When you get to the bridge, you must pay one dollar and fifty cents more to get your hack across. The man that drives is not the man Avith whom you made the contract; says he knows nothing about it; has no money; and the passengers always pay it. No use; you are in for it, and must pay it. One-half mile farther you come to a toll-gate; here you fuss and grumble, but you have to pay again. Next you are at the Burning Spring. "Will this spring burn. Mister?" asks one of your party. "Yes," says the man, "if you put fire to it." "Let us see it." "Just record your names yonder, and give me a quarter apiece, and I will." Well, you are at the Burning Spring, and not to see it burn would be too bad. You pay again. 18^^ 418 A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. Next, Lundy's Lane. On reaching the phice you find a wooden structure, of! suspicious appearance in point of safety, some hundred feet high. "Do you want to go up?" inquires the keeper. "Just record your names, and pay twenty -five cents each." Down goes your money, and up you go, thinking, perhaps, that when you reach the top you will have nothing to do but to look. When you get there you see the country around ; but what of that? You do not know where the battle was fought, after all. You will find an old English- man on hand, who was in the battle, and if you will give him another quarter, he will tell you all about it. Out comes another quarter. The Devil's Hole is next to be visited. On the edge of the precipice, at the top of the stair-way leading downward, you come to a little shanty, and the keeper asks, "Wish to go down, gentlemen? wish to go down? Eecord your names. Twenty -five cents, gentlemen, twenty-five cents." You pay it, and down you go, for one hundred and fifty feet; and then you come up again, tired enough, and never say one word to any- body. Now, you wish to know what is to be seen at these places; you will have to go and see for yourself. It will not do to omit a visit to Goat Island. By this time your patience with hackmen and charges is exhausted, and you decide that you will walk. Before you get to the island a man at a little house between the two spans tells you that you must pay fifty cents, but that it is for the season. "For what season?" "For the whole season." You say, "I shall leave this evening, never to return." But you must buy a season ticket. Out comes your purse again. Another man came up to me, and asked me to give him money to A LIVE TENNESSEE AN ABROAD. 419 show me the Falls. "Can I not see the Falls myself?" "0 yes; but I Avould i)oint out interesting points to you." Then j^ou go down the spiral stair-way; every- body goes down, and so must you. Down you go, and under the bluff you find a little shanty, clinging to the rocks like an eagle's nest. Out comes a very polite gentleman, and says, "Want to go through the Cave of the Winds? Put on this suit." Off go your clothes, and on goes the suit, and through the Cave of the Winds you go. Only fifty cents. If you wish to know what there is in that cave, go and see for yourself. But the great sight is yet to be seen ; we have to go under the sheet of water. Fifty cents, another suit of clothes, and a guide. Do you want to know if the sight is worth all this labor and cost? Go and see for yourself. Well, you would now suppose you had seen every thing about the Falls; not so. Do you not hear the Maid of the Mist blowing her whistle, and see people crowding on her deck, and putting on such funny suits of clothes? Here goes fifty cents more, and when you return a dime to the railroad to bring you up the bluff. But I will tell a little more about the hackraen. Not- withstanding that I paid twice the value of the service rendered, it was only half the sum the first man asked. As a class, they seem to be wholly destitute of principle. This Atlantic city is an interesting spot, on many accounts. You have not only the sea-breeze, but the sea itself, with all that can make the sea-shore attract- ive. A more lovely beach cannot be imagined than wo have here at low tide — smooth, and unobstructed for twelve miles by either stream or inlet; so that those who like a drive on the sca-shorc can be accommodated 420 A' LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. here to their heart's content The vegetation near the sea has a singular appearance. The ocean wind trims the tops of the black -gums, maples, and hollies as com- pletely as any gardener trims the tops of his hedges with his shears. If you wish to know the height of the trees, you have only to find the elevation of the sand-bank along the shore; not one inch higher will the wind permit the trees to grow. The trees are high from the ground in proportion to the depression of the earth landward from the sand-bank. Thus they grow according to an agrarian plan; if one tree is larger than another, it makes all its gain at the bottom. To grow tall, they must commence in a low place. The increase in the size of a tree is generally in latitude, and not in altitude. This is probably the reason why the branches are thrown about in such wild confusion. I have just returned from seeing the twin-trees, as they are called. They are quite a curiosity. They stand about ten feet apart, correspond very well in size, and appear to be about thirty years old. Some twelve feet from the ground they are united by a limb about as large as your arm, and it is impossible to tell which of the two trees it originally belonged to. Its junc- tion with both trees is natural and perfect; it is nearly straight, with a slight upward flexure at the center. The surf-bathing, after all, is the greatest attraction here. But you will not go in; and I wish you would tell me whether it is the fear of sharks or dread of the water that keeps you out. If it is a fear of being drowned, you should do as my old New Hampshire friend did. I wish you would find out his name for me. I have tried every plan I can think of but to ask him, and that I can never do. He has discovered •mine by hearing you and the ladies call me; but none A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. 421 of tl\e people here know his name, or if they do, they have not mentioned it in my hearing. I looked into his hat, but found nothing there but one glove. I under- stand that he is employed in the boot and shoe-making business, and makes them altogether with pegs; he does nothing else; and you could not find out in one month how I came by this information. Well, as an Irishman would say, it was after this wise: On yester- day evening, as Col. S. and myself were laying our plans for a good ocean swim, instead of a bath, he was listening very attentively; and this morning, when the Colonel and I, with some young gentlemen of our party, set out for the sea-shore, all as free from worldly incum- brance as people ever are — having laid aside and left behind all but our dusters — and w^ere getting along as well as we could, bare-footed, there was old Mr. New Hampshire (I shall henceforth call him Mr. By Degrees) also making his way to the ocean waves. We were soon on the beach, and buffeting away with the most delightful surf I happened to look toward the shore, and saw mj^ old friend By Degrees in the briny deep, up to where the calves of his legs ought to have been, if they had not seemed to have been left off, for some reason or other. He was dipping up water with his hand, and wetting the top of his head. I asked him what he was doing that for. He said it was to keep the blood from rushing to the head, and went on to say that it Avas always better to wet the head first. I then asked him if he was afraid of apoplexy. He said he did not think there Avas much danger of that; but it might be that he would take something like congestion. From the top of his head to the ground he is, I think, about six feet long — that is, when he is straight. He appears to be al5out fifty-five years old, is nearly bald, 422 A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. and has a remarkably long face; his eyes are very near the top of his head, and the lower part of his face is so heavy that it seems to have drawn down the center until the inner corners of his eyes are much lower than the outer corners, causing his face to resemble that of an old sow at the time she is weaning her pigs. His shirt- collar is pointed, and extends up to his ears; in fact, his entire body seems to be suspended by the ears from the edges of his collar. From one point of view he has the appearance of a horse with a blind-bridle on. He w^ears a glossy black bombazine coat and pantaloons, without a vest, though he says he has one with him, and intends to wear it as soon as the weather is a little cooler. He says he is a man that always dresses ac- cording to the weather, neither smokes, drinks, nor chews tobacco, and is a Church-member — he did not say what Church. I do not remember whether he has any thins: round his neck or not. On his feet he wears a pair of very heavy shoes. He will not talk to you five minutes before he will tell you that his health has not been good for some time, and that he came here for the benefit of the bathing, and that if it will help him it is quite as cheap, or cheaper than to have staid at home and taken medicine from the doctors — though he is afraid the hotel-fare here will not be good for him; but he thinks they have what he needs, if he could get it. You need not be surprised if old Mr. By Degrees and myself should get up an anti-eating-by-the-bill-of-fare society ; for wc do not know the various dishes by their names, and are afraid to send for any thing except roast beef and Irish potatoes, lest we might not like it when it comes ; and as it is sometimes difficult to induce a servant to wait on you, we do not like to waste time in trying experiments. * A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. 423 But I have digressed fur away from the bathing. I told you that he had waded into the water until it reached to where the calves of his legs ought to have been, and was wetting the top of his head to prevent congestion. I urged him to come in deeper, but for awhile he would not — saying that he would take it by degrees; that his health had been bad, and he thought it dangerous to do any thing too suddenly; that he was a man who always took things by degrees. I asked him what kind of sickness he had. He replied that some of the doctors said it was his stomach, and others were sure it was his liver; but his opinion was that it was not much else than weakness ; that it came on him by degrees, and he expected that it would go off by de- grees. A young friend, Mr. A., became interested in his movements, and tried to induce him to venture into deeper water, and did succeed in getting him in to the depth of his knees; but when he saw the surf coming, he ran for the shore as briskly as a young colt. He told me a short while ago that Mr. A. encouraged him very much, and that he thinks he will go in deeper next time; that he has had ill health, and must take the water by degrees. He wished to know how much the barber charges for shaving, and if there was not dan- ger of catching the tetter-worm by shaving with the barber. But I have not told you how I found out that he was a shoe-maker, and made only pegged shoes. Well, I will come to it in a short while. Mr. By Degrees, when in his native buff, was the oddest-looking animal you ever saw. His skin was not a good fit for him, and his joints were the largest parts of him; the knee-joint, especially, was so very large in proportion to the re- mainder of the leg that 1 thought it was swollen, and 424 A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. that he had rheumatism; and I asked him what was the matter with his knees. He said, " Nothing, unless it is hammering on them so mueh, making boots and shoes." That was the way I discovered his trade. If you avoid alluding to his illness, he will talk inces- santly about his business; but if he can find a listener, he will talk on the subject of his maladies until the can- dles burn out, if it is night. He will give you a num- ber of instances in which he and his old lady differed in opinion; but, to his credit be it said, he generally admits that she was right. I take that to be a good sign. You will never fully understand him, however, until you get up before the ladies are awake, and go bathing with him, and see him dip up the water in his hand, and wet the top of his head, to prevent taking congestion. We have been out sailing! Col. S. labored energet- ically yesterday to organize the party. There were ten or twelve in the company — seven ladies, and five or six gentlemen. The Colonel and I wished to make the young ladies seasick, which we supposed would be an easy matter, as none except one of them had ever been out of sight of land. So, immediately after break- fast, we went by rail to the inlet, where we found a number of small boats, or yachts, kept for hire to pleas- ure-parties. One of them was considerably larger than the others; but in appearance it was as old as Xoah's Ark — the paint rubbed ofi" its sides, the rigging all patched, and tied up with strings, like an Indian's gun. Mr. F. (one of the party) was for taking the large one, fearing that the small ones were not sufficiently capa- cious; yet the smallest was, I should think, at least fif- teen tons burden. We selected a most beaiitiful little A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. 425 craft — new, fresh, and neat — which, with her clean deck, white paint, and swan-like canvas, looked like a bride, and seemed to be as innocent and docile as a Sunday-school scholar. We were soon on board; the anchor was weighed, the sails hoisted, and the vessel stood out before the wind, like an uncaged bird. The Colonel intimated to the master of the craft what was wanted — the roughest possible j^assage, consistent with safety. The day was as fine for the purpose as if it had been made to order — clear and balmy, with a stiff breeze and a pretty heavy sea. We glided down the inlet, and were soon fiiirly out at sea. The roughest water that could be found was on the inlet bar, and to- ward this the master bore down, and laid his vessel across the sea. The lamb -like thing plunged and bounded with might and main; and all the while we watched the effect upon the*ladies; but they were en- joj^ing it rapturously; they seemed to be wild with joy and merriment; nor was there any apparent sign of seasickness. It was evident that that motion had failed. We then laid her quarter to the sea, which gave her a kind of rolling, chopping motion; this was not very pleasant to any of us, as it interfered with our going about on deck. The effect of this motion was simply a slight reduction of the mirth. We thought for awhile that it promised more; but at length it'proved a failure. We then ran the yacht as much between the seas as it was safe to attempt, taking in nearly all the canvas, which caused her to roll with a heavy, sluggish motion, but to no avail. We then held a council of war, and the next expedient was tried. A rough piece of water was selected, and we came to anchor, depriving the yacht of her stiffness and steadiness by taking in all the sails. She now plunged forward and backward, 426 A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. and rolled from side to side most beautiftilly; and at last this motion was found to take effect, but, I am sorry to sa}^, in the wrong direction. A particular friend of the Colonel's, from "York State," as it is called here — a tall, genteel, delicate-looking gentleman, who had received a hint from the Colonel, and came on the ex- cursion mainly to have some sport at the expense of the seasick young ladies — became a victim to the mo- tion. I happened to be looking at him when he felt the first premonitory symptom. He stood j^erfectly still — that is, as still as the vessel's motion would allow; there was an anxious expression about his face, and he seemed to be looking back, like a horse when he feels the first grab of the bots, and appeared like a man list- ening intent]}^ for something. I was greatly in hope the young ladies would not observe him; but it was onl}' a few minutes before Lsaw one of them looking at him attentively for a moment or so; she then gave the young lady next to her the hint, and she, too, looked, and soon all were watching him. The young gentle- man, however, did not appear to realize the existence of outward things, till at last one of them sang out, "You're sick! you're sick!" And then followed that unkind, unaccountable laugh which well persons al- ways enjoy over those who are seasick. My York friend soon took a seat on a coil of rope that lay on the deck, and, leaning against the mast, gave unmistakable evidence of increased distress. He first leaned one way, then another, and at last stretched himself out at full length on the deck. He turned pale round the mouth, his eyes closed, and while thus conquered and prostrate, the cruel laugh was kept up. I am not sure that the Colonel himself did not now begin to feel a little unpleasant. The master of the craft said A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. 427 it was of no use — that we could not make the ladies sick. At length I said to one of them, just for spite, "You are getting sick!" at which she sprang up, and, bounding across the deck with a merry laugh, replied, "Not a bit of it! " So we weighed anchor and stood in for the shore. Did you ever study character at the dinner-table? There are a great variety of characters here in the din- ing-room at the dinner-hour. For instance, here comes an old gentleman and lady, dressed in good style, who take their seats as if they were used to it; the gentle- man takes the bill-of-fare, puts his gold-framed glasses to his eyes and looks wondrous wise, exchanges a word with his wife, and then says, "Mock -turtle." Next comes a young married couple, no doubt a little em- barrassed, but to prove to everybody that they are not, like a boy who whistles as he passes a grave-yard at night, they must converse all the way through the dining-room, and the young wife must laugh a little at what her husband is saying, as evidence that they are regardless of the presence of others. They consult the bill-of-fare together, and say something to the serv- ant, who starts off, goes a few steps, is called back, and another order is given; the gentleman then looks at his bride with a knowing glance, and she laughs. Yonder is quite a party. A parley is held with the principal steward, he runs ahead of them and turns down half a dozen chairs that had been propped against the table. A general conversation is set up among them, jokes are played off, unfinished confabs are introduced; but all the while tlie ladies of the party are looking in every direction to see who is here and who is there, while the young gentlemen seem to be perfectly satisfied with their company. Over there 428 A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. two gentlemen, who are talking together with seeming earnestness, do not seem to care much about the bill- of-fare. A card is sent off to the chief butler, and a bottle of w4ne, or something stronger, is now between them. Stocks, exchange, and commerce generally, are handled as small matters, while the quality of the con- tents of the bottle is discussed with a great show of familiarity with good liquors. Here comes a man alone, who walks straight to his seat, speaks to the servant as he sits down, goes to work in earnest, hur- ries through, and is soon away. A gentleman has just taken his seat over there w4io seems to know no one. He wears gold-framed spectacles, and sports a goatee, and a thin mustache which he is trying to tease into the shape of a ram's horn, while he occa- sionally pulls down his refractory goatee. He unfolds his napkin with great care, and adjusts himself to his work; he w^U be at the table when you leave, and long after, for he is going to eat "according to the book." He has got on now to the lobster, and is preparing to dress it himself, for which purpose an extra dish is brought; he intends to show everybody that he is not from the country, but the city, and a large city at that. He has taken the fleshj^ portion of the lobster from the shell, and is cutting it up as though he were going to make hash of it. Watch him! That is sweet-oil he is pouring on it, next he adds a little salt, now some vinegar, next different kinds of sauces, then comes the pepper, followed with the mustard, after which all is mixed and chopped together. Half a dozen times has the servant ran off to get some condiment for him, until he is surrounded by casters. Now he tastes it, holding it in his mouth with a knowing air, but sud- denly, and with great haste, adds a little more of two A LIVE TENNESSEE AN ABROAD. 429 or three ingredients, and then tastes again. Now it will do! He calls a servant and sends his compliments to a lean, narrow-faced, sharp-nosed woman with curls straying all about her f\ice, to inquire if she will not have some lobster dressed after the style in which it is done in Paris or Boston, and she accepts. But look at that gentleman sitting alone. He is not engaged, as all the rest are, in eating. What is the matter? He is ashy-pale and red by turns; leans back in his chair, and tries to look dignified and composed. What a con- flict is going on between his wounded pride and his appetite! Let us analyze his thoughts: "Here am I, dressed in style, my hair dyed, my whiskers curled, a diamond ring on my finger and a diamond pin in my bosom, a man of some talent, to be neglected in this way! If they don't do better I w^ill leave this house! But never mind, they will come running directly." Poor fellow! his appetite will conquer yet. But here comes the big steward, with a larger apron tlian the waiters have, and w^earing a coat to distinguish him from the common herd of servants, who wear only jackets. Bowing politely, the steward says, '-Any thing wanting, sir? Ordered your dinner, sir?" "Yes, about one hour ago!" He is about to say" something more, but the steward is gone. He now fairly swells wnth rage; but it will not do to be noisy, because that would make public the fiict that he has been neglected. The servant who took his original order has been so much occupied in serving the party (who bribed him) that he has forgotten all about it, and has to go back and ask, " What will you have, sir?" But it is too late now to begin at the top of the bill; soup and fish depots arc past, and he is now at the beef and potato station. Now that he is eating, see how he has ui)- 430 A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. buckled the muscles of bis face; be begins to look ami- able, and is breathing deepl}^ and easily. What a won- derful effect that savory beef has had upon him ! Pity he had not imitated the man opposite, who is all the while knocking with the handle of his knife upon the table, or poking his fingers at the servants as they pass, like a man trying to see how high he can make a dog jump. He has opened a regular carrying-trade be- tween his appetite and the kitchen, and is taking on freight at such a rate that, were I an insurance officer, I should not like to take a risk upon his hull. I recollect a Frenchman who regularly hacked down^ and would not move one inch on the fish course. I suppose he was fond of this dish, and the servant had brought him some, but it was a small morsel, not more than a spoonful, and seemed to be beaten up almost into a batter, with the bones peering out all around it. The Frenchman adjusted his spectacles and looked at it for a moment, and then, with the most magnificent dis- gust, pushed it a few inches from him, set his chair back, and looked toward the ceiling. A moment later, and a servant asked, "What will you have, sir?" to which he replied, slowly and emphatically, "I — want — • some — fish!" The servant, glancing at the table, saw that he had fish before him, and left him. Quite a number of times other servants came to him and asked the same question, and received the same answer. This state of things continued until dinner was half over, by which period he had fallen behind the regular time, and was switched off. At length one of the proprie- tors of the house came to him and said, politely, "What's wanting, sir? what's wanting, sir? I say, what's wanting, sir?" The Frenchman replied, "I have told already what wanting, by Gar, eleven time; A LIVE TENXESSEEAN ABROAD. 431 I now tell one time more : I — want — some — fish ! " The servants now began to gather around, a kind of coun- cil was held over the matter, arid I thought I heard one of them say that the fish was all gone. My own dinner was drawing to a close, and I do not know whether the Frenchman got any fish or not. The ladies have been in the briny deep at last, but not in very deep after all; and notwithstanding you would not take the bath yourself, you ought to have gone down and taken a look at us all when dressed for the occasion. Handy Andy's account of Squire Ea- gan's sheep, dressed up in old rags to ])rotect them from the winter's cold, after an unseasonable shearing, could not have presented a more ludicrous picture than -we did. The goods of which the bathing-suits are composed is a coarse, strong, woolen fabric, variously colored and striped, so as to accommodate the peculiar fancy of each individual; though my suit had been wet and dried so often that the colors had all run together, so that it was impossible to tell the original design. The wardrobe of the ladies was of the Bloomer style, with close-fitting basque body and high neck. They wear upon their heads straw hats with large rims, tied down under their chins; and they are bare-footed. The gen- tlemen wear pantaloons, with something like an oid- fiishioned bed-gown, buttoned up in front quite to the chin, or tied together with strings; feet and ankles bare; and hats similar to those worn by the ladies. From the row of little huts along the beach, which are appropriated as dressing-rooms, to the water's edge is about fifty yards. This open space has to be overcome, which is the great imaginary trouble of the ladies; for, 432 A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. where there are thousands of visitors, as there are here, you cannot escape observation. We had all put on our bathing-suits and met together near one of the shan- ties, some twenty I suppose, in all, to form a line of march for the water; and notwithstanding it was some- what difficult for us to recognize each other in our new clothes, yet it was discovered that one of the ladies was missing — Miss A. What had become of her no one could tell; the ladies said she had passed out from the dressing-saloon, and that was all they knew. Col. A. was dispatched in search of her, and she was found by discovering her feet. The door of the saloon opened on the outside; she said that when she got out she felt so funny that she could not stand it, so she pulled the door around and got behind it, and there she was, standing as still as death; but her feet were disclosed- below the shutter, and she was captured and brought out, and joined her party. Every thing ought to suit the purpose for wMiich it is intended, and nothing, it appears to me, could be devised more perfectly' adapted to the end than these bathing-suits, being every thing that could be asked for. Each lady now selects some gentleman who is to take care of her — a ftither, hus- band, brother, or some well-known and confiding friend, who is to see to it that the undertow, as it is called, shall not carry them bej^ond soundings, and to help them to ride the heavy waves. Now we are paired, and oif for the surf. It was amusing to observe how low the ladies tried to make themselves as they went limping along on the pebbles with their bare feet, tot- tering from side to side, like so many muscovy ducks on their way to the pond. We were soon launched, though, and riding the surf beautifully; but when I looked and saw how perfectly reckless of danger the A LIVE TENNE.-SEEAN ABROAD. 433 ladies appeared, having fall confidence in their pro- tectors, and how industriously the gentlemen were employed in preventing any accident to their various charges, I could not but think of a negro meeting, where all the Tvomen get happy, and the men can get no good of the meeting in consequence of having to hold the women. I have noticed when out at sea that about every five minutes there comes along a swell that seems to be a master spirit, sometimes several feet higher than the others, as though the great heart of old ocean had made a violent throb, and greatly increased the circu- lation. That was particularly the case to-day: the surf was generally fine, but occasionally these alps of ocean would dawn upon us. But we had been going swim- mingly, till at length our paired -off arrangement was broken up, and the company formed what they called ''dross circle," all taking hands like dancers in the Grecian chorus. I did not unite in this circle, but was riding the surf alone, having gone a little farther out than the rest of the party, when all at once here came one of these mountain swells. I mounted it, but saw that those in the circle had not observed it till it struck and carried them hither and yonder, their hold upon each other being broken by the force of the wave, and they were drifting around like so many gourds. I made to their relief, but soon the most of them recovered their footing ; though I saw one who seemed to be in trouble — Miss E., a tall and rather delicate lady; she was bob- bing up and down, with nothing but the back of her head peering out of the water; I soon reached her, and brought her to the top. She snorted like a baby- porpoise, swallowed a little salt water, spit the rest out, and just as soon as she could speak, said to me — and 19 434 A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. no doubt meant all she said — "Well, I don't see any fun in this! Uncle Chip, don't let it do that again!" Yon may rest assured there was no want of looking out for the master swells after that. So far I had es- caped elegantly, and was just beginning to think that I should win the reputation of a good bather; but it always happens to me that just as I think I am about to finish up something smart, my hopes are struck down, and lam brought back to my proper level; and it is wonderful that I will do so, for I had faithful warning on the subject when quite a boy, which will never be forgotten: it was the day I put on the first pair of pantaloons with pockets in them that I ever had. I recollect it was in the spring of the year, and when I put on my new pantaloons, the old shoes which I had worn through the winter looked a little too rough, and I took them oif, and felt so light and supple that I told the other children I could fly, but they disputed it; so I mounted an old peach -scafi"old which was in the corner of the yard, in order to get a good start, but soon found myself flat on the ground, considerably bruised, so that I have never tried to fly since. But back to my difliculty: When I went to get a bathing- suit I could not find a hat large enough, being troubled with the big-head, and the sun was too powerful to think of going with my head uncovered; so I con- cluded that I would wear that nevv straAv hat of mine, with a determination not to let my head get wet; and to keep it from being blown ofl*, I brought down the ribbon and tied it fast in the button-hole of my bed- gown, and was getting on finely. But, as I was telling you, I must do something smart; so I went out farther than anybody else, in order to make character as a bather; and at this critical point in my desire for rep- A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. 435 utation, along came one of those tremendous swells, "when I happened to be attending to something land- ward, and, before I thought of it, buried me about three feet deep, took my new hat from me by violence — tore it off my head, broke the ribbon, and away it went. When I recovered myself and looked for my hat, don't you think, the ladies whom I had helped so much were laughing like to split their sides, and saying, "Yon- der goes your hat!" I overtook it at last, and put it out on the sand to dry; but it is so saturated with salt that I shall have to be careful to keep it out of the way of the cows. Soon after this I told the party that we had been in the water long enough. How much my ducking had to do in bringing me to this conclusion, I shall not say. This bathing is a great affair; and I am clearly of the opinion that persons affected with nervous derange- ment, or any general prostration of vital powers, will find sea-bathing of more service than other watering- places. The temperature of the sea at this point is about seventy degrees, and the slight shock that you feel when first going in soon passes away, and the bathing is really delightful; the beach, or bottom, is fine, firm sand, and is as pleasant to the feet as could be asked for; and there is not that danger which some persons suppose; if a man at a reasonable distance out should become perfectly helpless, I think the surf would wash him up high and dry on the beach. Ladies fre- quently go in alone. There was a great number of persons bathing when we were in, and among them I saw one lady who was alone, and was quite a bold bather. But the time came at last to go out, and out wo went. Here I am with another difiiculty: my suit of clothes 436 A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. was rather a close fit when dry, and when they got wet, the water acting as an astringent, they became an exceedingly neat fit; and but for the timely aid of Col. A., I should have had to wear them off with me, or come out of them locust-fashion. The only complaint now among the ladies is the condition of their hair, their heads having become perfectly saturated with the salt-w^ater. The next thing will be a heavy bill from the hair-dresser. There is not much interest taken in driving here. A great many people enjoy it; but they do not talk or brag about it. The reason of this is that it is cheap; you can ride in a car, omnibus, or hack at a low price, because the New Jersey people ride only in their Jer- sey-wagons. I like both the people and their wagons; tlie former are sensible, and the latter comfortable; but as the equipage costs no more than two hundred dol- lars, the elite are indifi^erent whether they ride in a car, omnibus, or wagon, as all are the same price. I cannot imagine what pride and fashion can do to abolish this democratic institution; something must certainly bo done, for all walk and ride in the same style, and there is no apparent distinction between the great and the little people. My old friend By Degrees has been out riding. He has visited the light-house, and says that he would like to go up to the lantern; but his health has been so bad, and he is so very weak, that he thinks he could not get up unless he were to take it by degrees. The angler, you must understand, is a very difi^erent character from the fisherman. I claim no particular fellowship for fishermen; with all their seineing, and netting, and trapping I have nothing to do. The A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABKOAD. 437 inethod of fishing with hook and line practiced at this place was new to me, and it was with no little fear that I pitted myself against those Philadelphia and New Jersey gentlemen, who were at home in the art. Our party consisted of eight persons besides the boatmen. There was one of the gentlemen whom I considered more formidable than all the others — a Mr. J. I had often heard of him before I saw him; when- ever fishing w^'is the subject of conversation, some one w^as sure to say, "You ought to get Mr. J. to go with you; he is the greatest fisherman in these parts." Some time afterward I w^as introduced to him, and we were soon intimate friends; we flowed together like kindred spirits. He ^vas, I should judge, fully sixty years old, rather low in stature, a little inclined to corpulency, very intelligent and communicative, full of life and good feeling, and ready for the excursion. Every word of information that I was able to obtain from him has been treasured up; the kind of fish, the tackle, the bait, were all discussed, until I thought I should very soon be proficient enough to take at least one degree. The first thing to be done was to find a reliable man •who had a boat — there are tricks in all trades. There are a number of persons here who have fishing-boats, but who know nothing about fishing — people who come here merely for the bathing -season. If you should happen to have one of these as your boatman, probably you will not get even a nibble. They do not know where to take you, and if they did, they have a strong temptation not to go where you can catch fish, because you engaged to pay them a certain sum for the trip, and the sooner you lose patience and wish to return, the better it is for them. But Mr. J. knew the men and their tricks, and was therefore able to secure the scrv- 438 A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. ices of one upon whom he could rel}^ who himself had experience as a fisherman, and would take pleasure in promoting our success in every way. There are some facts with regard to the bait which you ought to know, if you should ever be tempted to try 3^our luck. There are three kinds of bait used here — soft crabs, hard crabs, and clams. If you bait with soft crabs, you will catch fish pretty fast; if with hard crabs, you may catch one occasionall}^; but if you put on clam-bait I will not promise that you will get even a good nibble. The best bait, like every thing else that is good, is not easily found; the second-rate article is a little more plentifal ; and the worst may be had in un- limited quantities. You may write it down in your book that the good things of this life are hard to get, whatever they may be, while the bad things come of themselves. Mr. J. having indoctrinated me into the secret con- cerning the bait, when we reached the inlet, and the owners of boats came around us for a job, one of them bringing with him a large soft crab, thinking that he would impress the party with a good opinion by his bait, I asked him what he would take for his crab (he had just said he could get plenty like it), and he said, "Half a dollar." "Here it is," said I, putting the money in his hand, and taking the crab. Mr. J. offered him half a dollar for another like it, but he had no more. Our boatman had sent his son to catch bait, and to meet us at a certain point on the way, though we had plenty of clams and a few hard crabs. We were soon on board a neat little fishing-smack, and standing out for the inlet. We began preparations by examin- ing the tackle. A number of lines were furnished us by the owner of the boat. These were made of cotton- A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. 439 twine, about forty feet long, with about four ounces of lead at the lower end, and with three hooks attached by trotters two feet long, made of smaller twine than that of the main line. The lowest hook was two feet from the lead, and the two others one and two feet above. The hooks were the old-fashioned twisted, flat- headed kirtd, and rather dull. I thought the whole ap- paratus was cumbrous and unangler-like. Fortunately I'or me, Mr. E,., of Philadelphia, who had been fishing here for some time, gave me his fish-basket when he left for home; he was a disciple of Izaak Walton, and had left in it all that was necessary for fly-fishing. So I rigged an establishment for myself, putting on the snood and Limerick hook, with a small sea-grass main line, and a lead just sufficient to sink it. The fishing-ground was reached at length, and every man was in as great a hurry to get his hook into the water as if he thought all the fish would leave for parts unknown unless he put his bait in their mouths in one minute. It was not long before we began to haul them up. But let me tell you that if you do not tie on your hat, you will lose it, as there is nearly ahvays a strong wind. You need not take an umbrella, for you cannot hold it and fish ; and however hot the sunshine maybe, you must endure it. The line is held in the hand, and the lead is dropped over the side till it touches the bot- tom; it is then raised a few inches, held very still, and you wait for a bite. The kind of fish taken were sea- bass, sea-trout, black-fish, weak-fish, and flounders — none weighing more than three pounds. I soon found my friend J. in trouble; he was catching nothing. I insisted on his trying my soft crab; but even then he could not induce the fish to bite. He first found fault with the place; but the rest of us were catching at such »*> 440 A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. ti rate that this excuse was not listened to. He then laid the blame on his hook; but when I modestl}^ told him that I did not think the inferiority of his hook prevented the fish from biting, he gave that up. He then thought ho was on the wrong side of the boat, and made a change; but still the fish would not bite. This Avas dreadful on Mr. J. ; for he was a master of the art, and to allow tyros to beat him was almost unen- durable. He complained of the size of his line. I said there might be something in that; but others were tak- ing fish with lines of the size. I knew, or thought I knew, why he had no success; but I would not have dared to tell him, even if I had been inclined to do so. He was not the man to receive instruction; it was his province to impart it to those who did not understand the art. But I was not then disposed to tell him so; for I was greatlj' elated at having succeeded while he failed. The cause of his failure was that there were great quantities of sea -weed on the surface of the water and on the bottom. Mr. J.'s lead was a heavy one, and his trotters were so long that all three of his hooks must have been on or near the bottom; and con- sequently his bait sank down among tlie moss, so that the fish could not find it. The breakfast that he had provided for the fish was all under cover-dishes. I was confirmed in this opinion by seeing that my lowest hook caught nothing, and that when he drew up his line his hooks were uniformly covered with moss; and I was astonished that he did not discover the cause of his want of success. He was lucky, however, in catch- ing sea-spiders. Did you ever see one? They are the most detestable creatures I have ever beheld. They are called spiders because of their resemblance to the common spider, and belong to a class of shell-fish — A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. 441 though I should think that all other shell-fish would be ashamed to claim kinship with them. They are about as large as a man's fist, and the body api)ears to be made of small fragments of rotten, shelly limestone, fastened together with coarse cement, and the joints left rough and unvarnished. They have been neither chiseled, plastered, nor polished, and remain in a rustic, unfinished condition. Their numerous legs are of un- equal lengths, some with and some without claws, half of them apparently broken off— lost in battle, I sup- l^ose — and resemble pieces of old, rusty, moldy sticks, attached to the body by the most awkward, bungling hinges imaginable. The boatman said they were 'tar- nally fighting. Earely did Mr. J. take up his hook with- out having some of these spiders hanging to it — often two or three at the same bait. They were so vora- cious that the change of element did not affect them sufficiently to make them drop off. There they re- mained, one on each side, with their rucccred leirs mixed up, staring into each other's faces, and both sucking at the bait with all their might, as though it were some dainty morsel which they had no hope of ever tasting again. I wish you could have seen with what vehement energy Mr. J. dispatched them. ]N'ot a word Avould he utter, but with a significant grunt, and a rapid swing of his line, would dash them against the side of the boat, scattering their fragmentary legs in every direc- tion ; and I observed that after one of them had lost three or four legs, he would seem suddenly to become aware of impending danger, and, as though he were in haste to return to his native element, relaxing his grip, would quickly disappear in the Avater. After a careful examination of these marine creatures, I must acknowl- edge that I could not admire them. 19* 442 A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. During five hours' fishing we caught about seventy- one fish, and of these twenty-six were mine. For the benefit of the genuine angler, I will say that this kind of fishing cannot be compared with that which he may enjoy upon a Western stream, with a bamboo rod, a Hartford reel, a silk-plat line, a salmon snood, a Lim- erick hook, and where he can capture a ten-j)ound jack- fish. These sea-fish have no pluck; they do not pull vigorously, and the weight of the lead and depth of water are so great that yoa can hardly tell that you have a fish until it is almost out of the Avater. Then, you have neither clicking reel nor bending pole; in fact, the whole poetry of the art is lost. Give me a clean, shady bank, a running stream, and an elastic rod! What a beautiful day this has been, and how singu- larly I have spent it! The fatigue of fishing yesterday made me feel somewhat sore, and I had no inclination to either ride or walk; so I decided that I would join the Old Fogy Society on trial, if they would take me in. After breakfast I went out under the trees, and got into the crowd of long-jackets, spectacles, walk- ing-canes, and any number of newspapers. Being a good listener, I constituted an audience for more than a dozen of them. The greatest difficulty in sustaining conversation is not in inducing people to talk, but in prevailing upon them to listen. Did you ever observe what a propensity to talk old people have? If a man should live to be eighty years old, you may safely di- vide his life into sections in the following manner: Until he is twenty years old his time is spent mainly in feeling; he has some thoughts, but they are infre- quent and inconsequent. From twenty to forty he is an operative; he is at work, making money, character, A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. 443 or fame, or seekiog pleasure. From forty to sixty he devotes his energy to the erection of a monument; if he is a farmer or mechanic, he will build a house; if he is a professional man, he will write a book — he must do something to perpetuate his name after he is gone. After he passes sixty his sole occupation is talking; the garrulous old man, therefore, is passing through the final stage of his life. Being the youngest person in the crowd, I had to do a large share of listening, and to appear sufficiently grateful for the information that T was receiving, and at intervals to express my sur- prise at the great wisdom of the speaker or talker, by exclaiming, "Is it joossible?" "To be sure!" The subjects of conversation were various; and it is due to the old gentlemen that I should say that thej^ seem to have more than an ordinary share of intelli- gence. It is the general opinion among them that times are getting very much out of joint, and that there are serious evils ahead; that the tires on the wheels of time are getting loose, and that the world will break down before it goes much farther. The main difficulty is found in the manner in which the young folks are brought up — too high notions; too extravagant, alto- gether; cannot stand it! ]N'ow, let me say to you that while I believe many of the fears of these sage philos- ophers are, in ray opinion, groundless, there are some parts of the machinery of society realty out of gear. We can see the effect more clearly than we can under- stand the cause. The world is continually striving to achieve some- thing new. What a blessing it is, therefore, that old things can wear out, and give place to new ! For if the old could not pass away — and our desire for new ob- 444 A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ALROAD. jects must be gratified — the world would soon be too full of various things; and short-lived as are the things of this life, many of them last too long for us. I was forcibly reminded of this fact while walking through the streets of this great city; for New York is a great city for any country. In almost every direction they are pulling down the old houses and building new ones. It seems to me that it would be a good idea to get up a new-fashion-making establishment, and sell new fash- ions as cakes and other commodities are sold, and fur- nish models, from the largest ship-of-the-line down to the finest sewing-needle. Do you not think such an establishment would be profitable? Nature arranges this matter most admirably — the old crop dies before the new one springs up. Behold the grass, leaves, and flowers, how faithfully they obey this law! If those who are building could only see what is to become of the structures which they are rearing up, do you not think that the pleasure of building would be greatly curtailed? The builders of these old houses which are now disappearing intended them to stand forever; and the original owners fretted and fumed when any part of the material was thought to be defective. We drive nails, and clinch them, and say within ourselves, '' There you shall stay forever!" but the next generation will pull them out, if they must split the boards to do so. I have just been looking at the new styles. The merchants who have come from different parts of the country to buy goods are continually talking about the novelties. "Not so pretty," some say, "as those of last year; no matter, pretty or not pretty, the new style is the thing Avhich is wanted; it is useless to buy the old at any price." In architecture there are new inventions for lighting. A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. 445 warming, and ventilating. People will not live in the old-fashioned houses; they are astonished that they were brought up in the kind of houses inhabited by their fathers — full of deadly malaria, and no way to get rid of it. A new cabin for a boat or other vessel has been invented, which will insure the lives of the pas- sengers. The inventor is going to make the cabin a vessel of itself, so that when the ship gets into distress they will all get into this cabin, and as the vessel goes down they will unship from her, put the cabin's auger to work, and all will be safe. When I asked him what was to become of them if the cabin was to get into trouble before they made the land, he replied, "Ah! that is running difficulties through a second edition before getting through with the first." Another man had a new style of carriage, so arranged that if the horses were to run, the driver, by touching a spring, could turn them loose and let them go. "And what would become of the carriage," said I, " if it was turned loose on the side of a hill?" "I guess," said he, "that you would have to turn them loose on level ground." I really think that there is a fearful mixture in this city. Just reflect that within one hundred and fifty yards of this proud hotel, baptized by the name of a saint, you fall into the Five Points, and within three hundred feet in the opposite direction another most fearful sink of iniquity! so that the angels of God who hover around the virtuous and the good who stop at this magnificent establishment, and the fiends of darkness who keep vigil at these sinks of pollution, are nightly within sight of each other's camp-fires. I would advise those who wish to be impressed alone with the beauty, wealth, and grandeur of this city to confine their walks mainly to Broadway and the Ave- 446 A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. nues, for on these crooked, narrow streets there is little else to be met with in many portions but wretch- edness and misery. There are thousands here who are within a single step of utter destitution. You have no doubt noticed the great number of methods adopted to make a shilling — one has a little table with a dozen apples; another has a basket containing a few oranges, some with gubers — pea-nuts, as they call them; another 2)opped corn; quite a number are vending newspapers, others with matches, and some with tooth-picks; and there goes an old woman with a little dirty sack and a stick: she is fishing up old rags and waste paper from the gutters, and I suppose a day of faithful labor does not result in five cents. So that the situation of one hundred thousand of the inhabitants of the city is such that one single week's sickness of the effective laborer of the family would bring the whole household upon the charitable institutions of the corporation. The city is too large — too many people; two hundred thousand of them ought to go to some new country and dig in the ground, and grow themselves something to eat. It would be infinitely better for them, and greatly to the advantage of those they would leave be- hind. There ought to be no want in a country like ours. Let New York be what it may in other respects, it can boast of two things: it has, I should judge, the finest street in the world. Broadway — every thing considered — has not its equal anywhere. In the next place, it is ahead of any place with which I am ac- quainted for omnibuses, though they do not crowd Broadway now as they used to do before horse-cars were instituted. Some years ago I had been spending some time at the Irving House, and the omnibuses were crowding the A LIVE TENNESSEEAN ABROAD. 447 Streets from day to day, and from morning to night, till at length one evening, between sunset and dark, I concluded to get into one and see where it w^ould go to; so I stepped to the door, made a sign to the driver, and in I went. We struggled up Broadway to Canal street; there we turned toward the North Eiver until we came to Greenwich street, and then up that to — I know" not where. On and on we went; sometimes we were pretty well filled up, and again almost empty, till at last I was like the Dutchman's bear, "in a gage mit mineself" At length the lamp-posts gave out, and all was dark, and from the muddy condition of the streets I found that we were beyond all pavements. Finally, the seemingly tired concern came to a dead stand-still. I determined to wait and see what was go- ing to happen. At last the driver put liis mouth to the hole through which they receive fare, and asked, "Mis- ter, where do you wish to go?" "Now^here in particu- lar, only that I want to go wherever this omnibus goes; I wish to see one of these things to its hive; I wish to know where they live." "Well," said the driver, "I have got to my hive, for this is my stable." So I paid six cents, inquired when he would start back, and at about nine o'clock came again to my hotel, having traveled fourteen miles for twelve cents. LETTERS. Country-meeting Experiences. I DO not live precisely in town, but so close that I have learned a good many of the town -people's ways, and you know there is a great difference between town and country folks. Well, hearing of a meeting away out in the middle of the country, I thought I would go and see how they carried on; so I took my satchel — now, there is a great difference between a satchel and a pair of saddlebags: a satchel is made nearly square, out of leather, and some satchels have locks attached, and you can open and shut them like a muscle-shell. As I was going to start on the cars, and as saddlebags don't suit town-people who are going to take that kind of conveyance, I took my satchel, put all my things into it, and away I went. I did not know exactly where the meeting was going to be held, but had the name of the meeting-house, and thought I should find somebody on the way who could tell me all about it; so when the train started I looked through the car for some person that I knew, and saw a Mr. H. I inquired of him, but he had never heard of the place before. At length I asked the conductor if he knew where the meeting-house was; he said he did not know precisely where it was, but knew the neighborhood. Well, I thought, if I can get into the neighborhood, I shall find (448) COUNTRY-MEETING EXPERIENCES. 449 some one who can inform me where it is; and so re- quested the conductor to put me off at the point near- est my place of destination. He said there was no station at the nearest point, but as it was me he would do so; and on we went, and went so fast, and had been going so long, that I began to think the conductor had forgotten all about it, and taken me past the place; but as I w^anted to appear deliberate and quiet, like a man who knows what he is about, I said nothing. At length the cars stopped, and the conductor, looking at me, said, "Here is your place. Mister." I took my satchel, stepped off the cars, and away they went. Now, the place Avhere I got off was no 2)lace in particular, and as I did not ask the conductor which side of the railroad the meeting-house was on, and as there w\as no road leading off from the point where he put me down, nor anybody about to direct me, I did not know which way to start; and as the sun was pretty low% and the weather toler- abl}" cold, I knew I ought to be going somewhere; so I looked all around, and at last saw a small house off some distance in an old field, and concluded I would go and see if I could find some person who would tell me where to go. When a townsman gets away off in the country, he hardly knows what to do; but I took up my satchel and started for the house. It was a very small one, but when I got there and hallooed, a large lady came to the door. I told her where I Avanted to go, and asked if she knew w^here the meeting-house was. She said she did; that she had been there once, but it was a good while ago; and looking closely at me, said, ''Ain't this Mr. So-and-so?" I told her it was. She replied, "I thought so; we heard that you were (;oming to the meeting." This pleased me very much. Now vou know fov a bodv to be heard of and talked 450 COUNTRY-MEETING EXPERIENCES. about so far from home means something. I asked her how far it was to the meeting-place, and was told that it was a right smart distance, several miles, and a powerful bad road, and that I could not get there on foot before dark, and if night should overtake me it would be monstrous dark over in the hollers that way. I told her I must go somewhere, and asked her if there was any house on the road. She said there warn't. I inquired if there was any house near the meeting- house, and w^as told that the nearest house was a saw^- mill, which w^ould not be a fitti?i' place to stay; that there was another house not a great way off, but the 7nan ivho lived there had moved away ; and the nearest place that I could stay at was Mr. II. 's, half a mile up the creek. I told her that there w\as no use in talk- ing, that I w^as bound to go somewhere, and had no time to lose. She told me if I had a mind to try it, just to take that road yonder, and she believed the plainest part of it would take me to the meeting-house. So off I started, but had not gone far before I saw a man coming on horseback, and concluded to wait and inquire of him. He came up at last, riding a small, narrow-looking horse, carrying a bundle. I asked him all about the matter, and learned that it was flirthcr than I thought, that I could not get there on foot that night — the road was bad and hard to find. On \\\j asking him what I should do, he pointed to a bluff on the opposite side of a creek that ran through the val- ley we were in, and told me of a man living up there with whom I could stay. But how could I get across that creek? He wanted to kno^v if I could not go over on the railroad bridge; and when I told him I should have to try it, he looked at me and my satchel, and, seeming to be rather troubled, at length said, "Well. 1 COUNTRY-MEETING EXPERIENCES. 451 will tell you what I'll do: I will set you across on my horse, right against the bluff; a horse cannot climb it, but I think you can." So saying, he dismounted and told me to get up and ride, and he would walk through a nigh way and meet me at the creek. I mounted at once, and, taking my overcoat, satchel, and all into the account, Avas nearly as large as the horse. "JS'ow," said he, "go along down by the railroad till you come to a road turning off to the left, around a fence, and just keep round the fence till you come to w^here I shall meet you." So on I went, and when I got around the fence to the creek, there was my friend, sitting on the ground waiting for me. "Is this the place where I have to cross?" I inquired. "Yes," said he. "But," said I, "there is no road nor ford here, that I can see." "No," said he, "but I have waded all through the creek here, and know all the deep places, and if you follow my di- rections there is no danger. You will have to go straight across until 3'ou get about half way, then turn right up and go till you get against that big rock yon- der that the water is running over, and then turn square off to the other bank, going within about six feet of that big rock." So I fixed myself up in the saddle the best I could, with my satchel on before me; the great trouble was to get my legs so disposed of as to keep them out of the water, which was pretty deep, and very swift; and as we moved along my little nar- row horse gave a kind of low, easy snort, as the cold w^ater came up around him. "You 've gone far enough," said my friend; "turn right up." So I turned right up against the stream, and the breast of my little spunk}' horse split the current like the bow of a steam-boat, and up wc went until my friend on the shore called out, "Now turn toward the btink." wlncli I did 452 COUNTRY-MEETING EXPERIENCES. promptly. "You must mind," hesaid; "there are some jnighty big rocks over on that side;" and you maybe sure I was minding the best I could. At length he said, "You are going too near the big rock — turn up more;" and in trying to turn up, my little horse, as supple as a cat, climbed up on the top of a great rock in the water, which was concealed by the current. AVhen my horse got on the rock he made one big snort. "Now," said my friend, "you are in a fix; how are you going to get off that rock?" My little horse was trembling with cold or fright, and did not like to go into deep water any more, and I expected when he did we should both go under together, and the idea of all my things in the satchel getting wet was most dis- tressing. I wanted to hold by the mane, but the satchel had to sit right on the place I wished to take hold of. After some turning around, and a good deal of coaxing, my horse went off with a plunge and a grunt, but he did not fall or go under; I got my feet a little wet, however. Now, my advice to any one who wishes to buy a good little horse is, buy^that one. When once on land, I dismounted, and throwing the stirrups over the saddle and tying up the bridle, I drove the horse into the creek, that he might go back to his owner, which he did, after so long a time. "Now," said my friend, "climb right up the bluff, if you can, until you get into a little path, and then follow that up the creek until you can get out on tojD, when you can see Mr. C.'s house;" and he waited to see whether! could climb the bluff or not. He was really a clever man; there are not many town-men that would have done for me what he did, without pay; his only object was to help me out of a dif!icult3\ I found Mr. C. a very worth}^ gentleman; staid all COUNTRY-MEETING EXPERIENCES. 453 night, and the next day he took me to the meeting; and as I was not accustomed to riding on horseback, ho carried my satchel for me. When we reached the meeting-house we found it nearly full of people. You know there is quite a difference between town-peopk' and country-folks about going to meeting — town -people don't like to go except on Sundays. Preacher G. preached; and I liked the way they sang — they took hold on the tune and the words with a strong grip, and slapped them together, and let them know tliat they w^ere made for each other, and went right aliead with them in a hurry, so that there was no fear tliat they would lose the tune, or let it all die on their hands; and they got under such headway that they never stopped until they sang the last half of the last verse over twice. I suppose they did that so as to taper off, and not stop too suddenly. And I noticed another thing: when the preacher became warmed up with his sermon, the old men sitting around would say, Amen! and the like, and it never seemed to disturb the meet- ing in theMeast; but you know the like of that would not begin to do in town. When preaching was over, as I was afoot — for my horse had to go back home — I went to the nearest place — Mrs. H.'s, about half a mile distant; preacher D. and a good many young people were with me. When night came on I concluded not to go to preach- ing, as it would be dark coming back ; and as I was chilled, thought that when all the rest went to the meeting I would make a good fire, keep the door shut, and get thoroughly warmed before they returned. Away out in the country they make a big fire, but they think it is unhealthy to close the door, so that I could not get both sides warmed up at the same time; 454 COUNTRY-MEETING EXPERIENCES. for while I would be warming one side, the other wiis becoming cold, and that does not suit one who lives as near town as I do. I should like for you to form the acquaintance of preacher D.; he came eight miles on foot to the meeting; is very tall, but by no means fat. He had a strong argument on Scripture with preacher Gr. — they are both mighty deep men. D. said that the beasts were never made to be eaten ; that they had souls, and would live again hereafter. G. asserted that if Adam did not eat hogs he did not know what use he had for them; he could neither work, milk, nor shear them; and he — G-. — did not see what else Adam could jnit them at, unless it was to root up his garden, and so relieve him of the labor of plowing it. Preacher D. went to church with the others that night, and in going they had to cross a creek; and after they got there he began to think about the diffi- culty of going back in the dark, and somehow took it into his head that he had crossed the creek twice, when he need only to cross it but once. Now, people at meeting ought not to snifer their minds to be wander- ing in that way. But preacher D. thought that he could avoid one crossing of the creek by going part of the way through the field ; so when the meeting was over he left the crowd, took to the field, and got his fine new suit of jeans full of burs, but went on until he thought it was time for him to cross the fence and take the road. At this point the fence was built along the bank of the creek where there was a deep hole of water; and as the bank was so steep that nothing could climb it, the fence at this place was quite low; and here, preacher D. thought, was the best place for him to get over; and as the water looked rather white in the night, he took it to be the road; so he put one leg over COUNTRY-MEETING EXPERIENCES. 455 the fence, then the other, and making a spring, jumped cachug into the middle of the deep hole; so that when he came to the house he was wet up to the waist and full of burs. I asked him if he had fallen in the water, seeing he was wet nearly all over. He said that he had not, that he caught on his feet. "Well," said I, " how did you manage to get wet so high up? " " Why," said he, "the water is just this deep," measuring away up to his waist. I told him there must be some mis- take about the matter — that I did not think he could find water one foot deep anywhere in that branch. His answer was, "I will show you to-morrow;" and so he did. There is one deep hole in the branch, and but one, and he had managed to jump precisely in the deepest i^art of it. The congregation next day, at eleven o'clock preach- ing, was large; not more than half the people could manage to find sitting or standing room in the house, but even those outside were quiet and attentive to the preaching; and when service was over, the preacher announced that there would be meeting again at night; that the jieople could come before dark, and have moon- light to go back by; but that was a mistake — the moon cannot be relied on, for she is continually changing the time of her rising. Preacher W. was there, and wished to come home with me, as we lived close to- gether, and I had determined to come before night to some place near the railroad; but W. had not yet had a chance to preach, and it is a mighty poor business for a preacher to go to meeting wnth a sermon already made, and not have a chance to preach it; so W. con- cluded that he would stay and preach at night, and after meeting come on to where I was going to stay. When service was over he had company for a mile or 456 COUNTRY-MEETING EXPERIENCES. two, but one after another they turned to the right and the left for their homes, leaving him to make his way alone. The night was dark, for the sluggish old moon had not risen, notwithstanding the promise of the preacher, and W. was entirely unacquainted with the road; but he had special instruction to this eifect: that soon after passing through a certain muddy lane, he should take the left-hand end of a big road, which would lead him to Mr. B 's, where I had stopped for the night. The lane was passed at last, and W. took the left-hand end of a wood-road that passed around the field; this led him around b}" the fence, and up a dark hollow into the hills, and there it went to pieces and gave out, and he was lost. He saw a light at last, through the wood, and made for it. It was in a little hut occupied by an old darkey. W. called, but Cuffee would not answer — he thought it was an enemy. AV. told him that he was a lost preacher, and was trying to find his way to Mr. B.'s, and he must come out and direct him. The old negro armed himself with a long knife and ventured out, and gave W. the necessary information, but it brought him up on the wrong side of B.'s house, and he came precisely at the wrong time. H. wanted to lie down, and G. had just read a psalm and all had kneeled for prayer, when W. began to halloo back of the garden. B.'s dogs, great and small, went with fury to drive off the intruder, and were baying W. at a great rate. While he was shouting "Halloo! begone! get out!" and the dogs were keeping up their bow- wow-wow! Gr. stoj^ped praying, and said, "Let some one go out and relieve the man," and then resumed his praj^er. W. was rescued from the dogs, and the next morning we took the cars for home. And now let me A VISIT TO BALTIMORE. 457 say to you that the meeting was a good one, the weather fine, there was a good congregation, and I had a first-rate place at which to stay. igcg^ A Visit to Baltimore. I AVAIL myself of this the first moment's leisure to give you a brief account of my late visit to Baltimore, and of the transactions of the Board of Foreign Mis- sions. . We met on the evening of March 2, and continued to meet from day to day for eight days, Sunday excepted; and 1 think all the interests committed to our trust were cared for. We had a full meeting of the Board, and were favored with the presence, more or less, of three Bishops— viz.. Early, Wightman, and Doggett. Bishops Early and Doggett were almost constantly with us, and Bishop Wightman occasionally; but the busi- ness of the Conference required his attention mainly. We were also fiivored with the presence of Brother Cunnyngham, who had been acting as Corresponding Secretary during the year, and of the Eev. John Har- rcll. Superintendent of the Indian Mission Conference. Brother Cunnyngham had fully acquainted himself with the condition of the China Mission, and was able to furnish the Board with all the information necessary for a perfect understanding of the condition and pros- pects of that mission; and it is my opinion that more substantial good is now accomplished by our missiona- ries in China than at any former period, for the reason that, through the influence of schools and a religious newspaper, they are able to attract public attention, and thereby greatly widen the circle of religious influence; 20 458 A VISIT TO BALTIMORE. SO that those who have entertained fears with regard to the success of this mission may now take courage. We were very fortunate in having the presence of Brother Harrell, who has been among the Indians for twenty -five years, and a hirge portion of that time superintendent of our missions. He is now little more than sixty years old, a man of fine health and great powers of endurance, with a clear, sound, well-balanced intellect and spotless Christian character, and is greatly devoted to his work. From him we obtained all the information that could have been desired; and his rep- resentations of the present condition of that mission were full, clear, satisfactory, and encouraging. The four tribes that were under our care — Cherokees, Creeks, Choctaws, and Chickasaws — were wasted and impoverished by the war, and our schools were broken up, and the regular work of the missionaries was al- most entirely suspended for awhile ; but it is wonderful to learn how the broken fragments have been reunited, and life and motion restored. The missionaries are doing a large business on a small capital ; great success attended their labors in that field last year. There is a demand for more laborers, and many preachers and teachers are greatly needed in that department. They are very destitute of houses of worship. At present the missionary preaches mainly in cabins and under the shade of trees. A few thousand dollars appropri- ated in aid of building houses of worship at a few cen- tral localities would be of incalculable advantage in the interest of that mission. In order to make the work permanent and accumulative, we must have houses. From the front ranks of Western emigration there is a call for missionaries. There is also an open field in South America, which the Methodist Episcopal Church, A VISIT TO BALTIMORE. 459 South, alone can fill. Since the close of the war not a few of our Southern j^eoplc have gone thither, with a class of feelings and views which would at once secure a welcome to a Southern preacher. The persons who have gone from the Southern States to Central and South America are superior in knowledge and general information to those among whom they have settled, and cannot fail to make an impression upon them ; and thus a door for usefulness is opened to our ministers, while it is closed against those from a Northern lati- tude; so that our way is now clear, and duty demands that we should occupy that country. A portion of the people already speak our language, so that a preacher could be felt at once in his true character. The de- mands upon us are great. We could find the laborers, but we have not the money to sustain them. Brother Smithson, our late Treasurer, did much dur- ing the year in promoting the interests of the missions, and by his twenty-five cents proposition obtained sev- eral thousand dollars, which was appropriated in aid of paying ofi" the old debt. He found it necessary to re- sign his ofiice as Treasurer, and Brother T. J. Magruder, a prominent layman of Trinity Charge, was elected to fill his place. It is due to Bishop Early that I should say in this connection that, notwithstanding his age and the ex- treme cold weather, he was constantly at his post, and fiiithfuUy served us as chairman of the Board; while Bishop Doggett contributed largely to the perfecting of our work, and interested us greatly with an account of his visit to the Indian Mission Conference. In closing my remarks with reference to the pro- ceedings of the Board, I will say that I think the pros- pects for our foreign missions are better than they have 460 A VISIT TO BALTIMORE. been sinoe the General Conference. A settlement has to be made with cUximants in the West before I can be able to give fiicts and figures with regard to the old debt, though the prospects are better than they were. I know you will expect me to say something about the Baltimore Conference, whicli was in session at the time of the meeting of the Board; and what shall I say? There w\as more of it than of any Annual Con- ference I have ever seen ; I suppose there were about three hundred preachers present, besides the laymen; visitors in great numbers — j^reachers from Virginia, Holston, Western Virginia, Tennessee, Kentucky, North Carolina, and Dr. Deems from New York. I cannot name them all, and therefore will not begin. Why it is that so many visitors go to the Baltimore Conference I cannot tell; nor am I prepared to say why it is that if a preacher goes there one year he has a strong de- sire to go again ; but such is the fact. The people of Baltimore and the preachers of the Conference under- stand and practice the art of making every person feel at home. I asked a number of persons, whom I knew, where they staid, who, after giving the name, invaria- bly added, "One of the best places in the city." All seemed to think they were at the best places. Now, if you should ever go to the Baltimore Conference, and wish to remain at a really hospitable home, be sure to go to Mr. S. G. Miles's. I observed another fact: if a preacher wished to preach, or to make a speech in Con- ference on some subject, opportunities were certain to be afforded him; if he w^ished to hear preaching, he could hear as much of it as he was inclined to listen to; if he was fond of singing, he could be accommodated at the church or Sunday-school; if he desired to give a little money to the institutions of the Church, he could A VISIT TO BALTIMORE. 461 be favored with that privilege; if he wished to write letters or read newspapers, he found ample facilities at the office of the Episcopal MetJwdist; if he wished to smoke, a pipe or cigar was at his service; if he wished to converse with a friend, he had only to go into the basement of the church, and there he would find well- warmed rooms and comfortable seats; and if he desired to look upon the faces of a niultitude of true Christian women, he had only to look beyond the bar of the house. They know how to get up an occasion in the Balti- more Conference. The Sunday-school gathering at Trinity Church was a wonderful affair. The large house was filled to its utmost capacity; even the aisles were crowded with persons standing. The Sunday- school scholars sang charmingly; but they did much more than that: each class furnished a portion of a miniature church-building, and with it a contribution to the missionary cause, and a motto taken from the word of God. This motto was handed to one of the preachers, who delivered a short sermon upon the text; so that there were thirty-two sermons preached, about twelve hundred dollars paid into the treasury of the Lord, and the front elevation of Trinity Church built in miniature — the exercises being interspersed with music, and all done in three hours. All this time there were, I should think, at least three or four hundred persons who could not obtain seats, but who stood as still as statues. That was a great success, and will appear still greater when it is known that on the night previous a collection for home missions was taken up, in the same church, at the close of Dr. Munsey's sermon, which amounted to- about twelve hundred dollars! Wiien the preachers began to make their returns, it 462 A VISIT TO BALTIMORE. was found that the Sunday-school Agent had not re- ceived his salary, and in one day an assemblage of Sunday-school schohirs gathered in Central Church, speakers were procured, and enough collected, I believe, to pay him in full. With regard to the regular business of the Confer- ence, it is not necessary that I should say any more than that it was done, and well done, notwithstanding there were but few speeches made, and the house was continually crowded with men and women who had no part in the business of the Conference; but the Bishop held to the question, and kept up the order of business; and such men as -Wilson, Regester, Roszell, Thomas, and many others that might be mentioned, knew what to say and when and how to act. The preacher and his aids acted well their part; no one was overlooked or left without a home. There was no death anion 2: the ministers this year; all had good health and great prosperity. Dr. Bond and Brother Poisal were in their places, meeting every demand and fulfilling all expec- tations; and many persons inquired after Dr. S., the editor. T went to see the new painting of Bun^-an's Pilgrim, or the "Journey of the Christian's Life." It is a won- derful triumph of art. I sat for two hours contem- plating it with intense interest. I am not able to say which of the great masters who were engaged in the painting deserves the highest praise. Only two faults were apparent to my mind, one of which was in the section embracing Yanity Fair: the temptations to Pil- grim as he passes through are top obvious; to the mind of a pure Christian they are no temptations at all, be- cause they can awake in the mind of a good man no feeling but that of contempt and disgust. The other A VISIT TO BALTIMORE. 463 is in the representation of Pilgrim's entrance into the Celestial City; the amount of light thrown on the can- vas is so great that it approaches flame, and conveys the impression of great heat, which is ruinous to the effect. The section containing the view of Christian and his associates contemplating the Celestial City from the promontory, or point of rocks, across the vale of tears, which is the most lovely picture I have ever be- held, was not suffered to remain long enough in view. In exhibiting that picture there should be no haste. One fact impressed me while looking at these paintings : the world has carried sight-seeing in the direction of human corruption, and catered to the lowest passions of mankind, until society has become disgusted with and turned away from public exhibitions; but the frequent presentation of such pictures as this would doubtless have an opposite effect. The lecturer on the occasion talked of "shouting," "getting happy," "getting re- ligion," and now and then exhorted his audience to be- come religious. The words religion, happy, shouting, and heaven, fell as easily from his lips as if he had been preaching at a camp-meeting. On Thursday of the Conference — as the Board did not meet till night — at eight o'clock a.m., I threw myself into a car, and in two hours or less I was in Washington, standing on the Avenue, looking at the procession pass. I waited until I thought about one -half had gone by, and then made my way to the east side of the Capitol, and got a position from which I could see whatever of the inauguration that was to be seen. The multitudes present could only be counted by the acre; I suppose there were ten acres of people present — a description is out of the question. The people were swaying and driving to and fro like the waves of the sea; no one 464 MU. DIXON. seemed to know where to go or what to do; some few stood still, others walked slowly, many walked fast, and some ran at full speed. Go which way you would, the crowd seemed to be going the contrary way; turn about, and you would think they were all coming back again. At one time a vast multitude had crowded up against a tall fence, north of the Capitol; those who were against the fence could get no farther; those be- hind thought something was going on in that direction, and continued to crowd on, till at length a portion of the fence, near the ground, was removed, making an opening three feet square, and through this opening they began to pass. If a person got to it without get- ting his head down, he had to go through feet foremost; but it was easy to get through in that way — when the feet were, once through the hole the pressure of the crowd soon forced the bod}^ after them. They were mainly negroes. I saw the President read his speech, but could not hear him distinctly. I returned at three o'clock p.m. The crowd on the car was vast, but silent; nobody talked; all looked tired; all had mudd}^ feet; all wanted to get away; and whether anybody saw what he went to see, I shall never be able to determine. isgo. Mr. Dixon. We are so dependent on each other in this life that not a day passes over our heads in which we do not incur an obligation to some person for favors or serv- ices of some kind. This is particularly the case with travekn'S who are passing through countries strange and new to them, and wish aid w^hich cannot be pur- MR. DIXON. 465 chased with money; and more than once in my life, when in very peculiar circumstances, I have found a friend as perfectly suited to my necessities as if he had been made to order; and when I anticipated the greatest difficulty and trouble, I found the largest measure of comfort and enjoyment. A case of this kind occurred to me lately, so marked that I think it worth relating. I Avas on my way to Augusta, Arkansas, where the White River Conference was to hold its session, and as I expected to meet the Rev. W. C. Johnson at Memphis, who was well ac- quainted with the country through which I was about to travel, I did not take any especial pains to inform myself in regard to the best route. On leaving Mem- phis, I found that I was disappointed by not meeting Brother Johnson. I knew that Augusta was on the bank of White River, and that the train to Little Rock touched at Duvall's Bluff, on that river, and that I could there take a boat to Augusta; but on mentioning this fiict to a stranger with whom I was conversing, he told me that the water-courses were so low that I could not reach Augusta before Saturday or Sunday, and pos- sibly not so soon. This was on Tuesday, and the Con- ference was to begin the next morning. The gentle- man went on to tell me that there was a station on the way, called Brinkly, at which persons often stopped, and made their way, as best they could, through the coun- try, the distance being thirty-five or forty miles; but, on inquiry, I learned that there was no public convey- ance of any kind, and that if I went to Duvall's Bluff and could not get a boat, I should find it almost impos- sible to travel through the country. How this dead cen- ter between Brinkly and Augusta could be expeditiously passed was the difficulty to be overcome. Just at this 466 MR. DIXON. moment I found on board the train the Rev. Dr. Collins, of Memphis, who was also on his way to the Conference, and who introduced me to his friend, Mr. Alexander Dixon. JSTow, 1 want the reader to become acquainted with Mr. Dixon. I should judge that he was twenty- five or thirty years old, would weigh about one hundred and thirty pounds, and, if he had not been too much exposed to the sun, would have been fair-skinned and handsome; he was well-proportioned, and had a very prepossessing countenance; he was dressed in the ordi- nary style of a business man, and had an ease of man- ner which is common to those who understand what they are doing. I soon told him that I wished to go to Augusta, but did not know how to get there, to which he replied, "Give yourself no trouble on that score; I will see to it that you shall get there in good time." He went on to say that he had a horse and buggy at Brinkly, and had already promised to take Dr. Collins to the Conference. But how he could accommodate the Doctor and myself, weighing about two hundred pounds each, with our satchels, shawls, and overcoats, and also ride himself, I did not fully comprehend. In due time we reached Brinkly, and in a few moments Mr. Dixon's horse and buggy were ready, and the baggage stowed away; then Dr. Collins and myself were requested to take our seats; and Mr. Dixon so doubled up his legs as seemingly to seat himself on his feet; and off we went. I was astonished to find that we were so comfortably fixed for our buggy ride. I soon found that Mr. Dixon was no common man. He seemed to be familiar with all the subjects of our conversation ; he was a merchant, and was at present traveling for a large cotton-house in Memphis; he had been a soldier, planter, hunter, angler, and was fa- MR. DIXON. 467 miliar with the business and commerce of the country. He had very little to do with politics; but, as far as he expressed his opinions, I found him right — that is, ad- mitting that I was not wrong. He was a Christian, a member of the Methodist Church, sound in the faith, and pointed out to us the place where he joined the Church. I could not mention an Arkansas preacher, of whom he did not know something, and he was also familiar with the periodical literature of the Church. He was, so far as the country through which we were passing was concerned, better than any guide-book in the world; he knew all who lived on the road — their politics, their religion (if they had any), and their finan- cial condition; he knew all the bayous, la.kes, streams, and sloughs; he knew how to escape the deep holes and quicksands in crossing streams; he pointed out the best hunting-grounds and fishing-points along the way, and gave us some of his adventures with large game. He spoke clearly and distinctly, so that he was easily heard, and was so attentive to the conversation of others as never to require them to repeat what was said. He had no hobb}^, nor did he bore us with his own affairs. He saved us from feeling too keenly the obligation we were under to him, by saying how fortunate he was in fiilling in with such good company, and never once asked what we would have done if we had not met him; his whole object seemed to be to impress us with the idea that he was the benefited party. He was a good talker and an excellent listener. He knew all the good places at which to stop on the road; and as night came on we drew up at a very comfortable-looking farm-house, and he told us to alight, as we should stay all night at this place. In a few moments I found I was all right; Mr. Dixon and our host were old friends, and we were in- 468 MR. DIXON. vited into the house. We could see at once the air of comfort that pervaded this home; every thing was in perfect order; a wood-fire threw its cheerful light and heat upon a clean -swept hearth; and the ease and grace with which the gentleman and his wife welcomed us seemed to say, "We are glad to have you stay with us." A more pleasant night could not have been de- sired. We were off in good time in the morning, and I was a little troubled because I could not recollect the name of the gentleman with whom we had staid, which was Lintegun. Mr. Dixon said at last, "I will tell you how you can recall the name at any time. First, think of Lin\ a tree; then, of tea., that you drink; and then of a gun;'' so that, with these aids to memory, I shall never forget the name. Finding that Mr. Dixon was a single man, and very popular with the ladies wherever we met them, I ventured to ask him why he did not marry. In reply he said that he had a widowed mother and two sisters, who held the first lien upon his affec- tions, service, and money; but the time might come when he should find it convenient to take a wife. The country through which we were traveling was beauti- ful. We crossed some flowing, limpid streams, and passed two or three lakes that lay sleeping in the for- est, which were all full of fish, and at intervals we saw wide fields of cotton and corn; our road was smooth, and our traveling almost noiseless. About the dinner-hour we drove up to the hotel in Augusta, having enjoyed one of the most pleasant rides I ever had, for which I returned to Mr. Dixon this acknowledgment, on parting with him at the hotel: "I am much indebted to you for this pleasant and successful trip;" to which he rei^lied, "Let me know HURRICANE SPRINGS, 469 when you wish to return, and I will try to make your trip back more pleasant than the one we have had." I saw no more of him for several days, and began to be anxious about my return trip, but suddenly my friend D. presented himself and said, "When will you want to start back?" I told him that an appointment had been made for me at Cotton Plant for Sunday night. He said, "You will have to leave as early as one o'clock; it is twenty-five miles, and some of the road not very good." The hour was fixed, and at one o'clock he dashed up with a pair of fine horses and a neat two- seated express, saying, "Get aboard, let's be oif;" and we went that evening in good style, passing everything on the road. Cotton Plant was reached in good time, a large congregation was in waiting, and I trust the sermon was not unprofitable. ISText day we were again at Brinkly in good time, and there I took leave of our friend Dixon; and I am sure I speak the feelings of my traveling comjoanion. Dr. Collins, when I say that no travelers were ever better cared for than we were by our friend D. 1871. Hurricane Springs. I HAVE been spending a few days at Hurricane Springs, and as the world does not know a great deal about the place, have concluded to furnish you a few items. These Springs are located on the line between Franklin and Moore counties, the line running through the spring; and part of the buildings are in Franklin and part in Coffee counties; distant from Nashville about seventy -five miles, and six and a half miles south of Tullahoma. The elevation is about twelve hundred feet above the level of the sea, and about seven hun- 470 HURRICANE SPRINGS. dred above the great limestone basin of Middle Ten- nessee. We are here on the first bench of the Cum- berland Mountains, which is about twenty-five miles in breadth, and something more than one hundred in length. The country on this bench is generally pretty level, while the principal dip is from the western bor- der toward the Cumberland Mountains, so that the highest point on the railroad between Nashville and Chattanooga — with the exception of the tunnel near Cowan — is TuUahoma; hence, the elevation at this point is nearly as great as that of Beersheba. The soil is generally thin, but very productive, and is easily made rich by fertilizers. The Springs are in a slight gorge, some fifty feet, I should think, below the aver- age elevation of this bench. The country immediately around the Springs is rather poor, the timber mainly oak and chestnut, and of recent growth. I should think that seventy-five years ago it was principally barren. The spring took its name from a creek which runs within about a mile of the place, and the creek was so named from a hurricane which passed over the country through which it flows, many years ago. The water in this section of the country is consid- ered the purest freestone, while the atmosphere is cool and bracing. There is not about this sulphur spring, as is frequently the case, a low, marshy deposit; but the healing waters flow from a stratum of slate, or shale, and seems to be the mere weeping of the rocks, and not very abundant, yet is unfailing, not being af- fected in the least by rainy or dry seasons; and, I should judge from the high temperature, flows from a great depth. The shale, or slate, from which it flows contains quite a number of mineral properties. Salt is not found in any great quantity in the water, but HURRICANE SPRINGS. 471 during the night comes out from the crevices of the rock, and becomes crystallized during the day. The place was called the "Lick" in the early settlement of the country, from the fact that many kinds of game resorted to it for its saline properties. Hunters built their booths here and awaited the coming of the game. These rocks have been stained by the blood of many a noble buck. A snarly poplar was pointed out to me the other day which still shows the crooks and bends produced by a huntsman fifty years ago, who bent its trunk and twisted its branches together to make a blind, behind which he sat and watched for game. The poplar has grown to a respectable tree, and remains as a faithful sentinel. A few varieties of game still linger in the neighboring woods, but the huntsman has passed away, and men, women, and children now stroll and gambol over what was once the inheritance of wild beasts. It is now about fifty years since these waters were first resorted to as a restorer of health, and were used mainly for those diseases peculiar to females, and dis- eases of the skin, and were soon found to be valuable in diseases of stomach and bowels. But the true value of the water was never discovered until after the return of the army from the war in Mexico, when a young man in almost a dying condition from diseased bowels was brought here and soon relieved, which fact became generally known in a short time throughout this sec- tion of the country, and the result was that about fifty returned soldiers came to the Springs, and were healed. The water is found to contain a number of powerful remedial agents, among which are sulphate of soda, chloride of sodium, chloride of potash, carbonate of lime, carbonate of magnesia, oxide of iron, iodine, sul- 472 HURRICANE SPRINGS. phureted hydrogen gas, carbonic acid gas, silicic acid, chlorine gas. The diseases for which the water is par- ticularly recommended are dyspepsia, liver complaint, cholera'morbus; and for those of the kidneys and skin, it is regarded a superior alterative. We have here at this time about one hundred visit- ors. I should think about eighty per cent, of them have come for health, and probably none for pleasure alone. Yet I do not see why pleasure-seekers might not find here, as well as elsewhere, that which they are in pur- suit of. The rooms are clean, airy, and comfortable, the bedding is all that could be desired — at least, ^ine is — the food abundant, and well prepared. I think the Messrs. Miller have been very fortunate in the selection of their cooks. There is not much dis- play of round tables, empty dishes, and crimped towels, but you will sit down to a dinner very much like that you will meet with among the best livers in the coun- try, while the servants are honest and attentive. As to the morality of the place, I am happy to state that I never saw it excelled; have been here more than a week, and have neither heard an oath nor detected whisky or brandy on the breath of any one. The en- tire party seems to be as one genial, happy family. There are both hunting and fishing privileges here, but I have not availed myself of them. Croquet is the principal amusement, together with a little dancing among the children after the piano, for we have no band of music. The principal thing that I consider lacking here is this: there is no provision made for riding or driving — no public stable being kept here, which I think might be made profitable, and would add greatly to the pleasure of the guests. I do not know any watering-place where an invalid MEMPHIS CONFERENCE. 473 would be more likely to find health and comfort than at Hurricane Springs. The proprietors have recently put up a new building, which greatly enlarges the ca- pacity of the establishment. I think I can say with safety that all the invalids but one are improving, and appear at the table. I wish 3'ou had a few weeks to spare, and would come and rest and heal your eyes. As to the price of living, I believe that many persons would find it cheaper to come here than to stay at home. There is one thing that is perfectly refreshing to me, and that is the anx- iety of the proprietors that every one should receive benefit and be happy. One thing which causes me to feel particular interest in the place is that I think I have been benefited myself. 1872. Memphis Conference. I REACHED Somerville on AYednesday evening, No- vember 21, and found the Bishop in position and the Conference under way. An Annual Conference is a oTcat affair — one of the most interestins; festivals of the Church. There, are no men of any craft or party who fraternize and sympathize with each other more than itinerant preachers; and after having been sepa- rated for a year, they come together to take each other by the hand, to talk over the trials, labors, and suc- cesses of the year. Each one has picked up something of interest during the year, which he is ready to relate, while others are prepared to hear; so that conversation flows like a stream; old friendships are renewed, and new acquaintances are made; distinguished visitors and strangers are every day introduced to the Confer- 474 MEMPHIS CONFERENCE. cnce, while the preachers are frequently meeting old and true friends from among the laity — persons con- nected with charges served by them in other years; so that it is almost a constant stream of excitement. An- other feature of the festival is this: the families who entertain the preachers allow them to bring any friends they desire to dine or sup with them; while every preacher you meet with is under the impression that he has the best jDlace in the town; so that nothing can exceed an Annual Conference in a social point of view; and since lay representation has been introduced into our Annual Conferences we have a number of laymen mingling with the clergy, and in such close commun- ion with them that they seem to be a unit; and so many matters come up in the Conference-room that there is no flagging of interest there; while at each church preachers from different parts of the country appear in the pulpit and on the platform; and diff'er- ent boards and societies hold their anniversaries. Al- together there is nothing like a Methodist Annual Conference. In the examination of character the preachers were found innocent in life and conversation. Upon the present occasion there was an additional interest in the fact that the Bishop was a new man, never having met this Conference before, and it was really refreshing to see how he won his way and made favor among both preachers and people; and to hear the words of com- mendation that came from every one. Another feature of the Annual Conference is the deference paid to the aged ministers. They are fur- nished with front seats, and are listened to as oracles. In looking over this Conference I might say the cen- tral figure is G. W. D. Harris, who is considered as the MEMPHIS CONFERENCE. 475 father of the Conference. He still sits in the midst of his brethren, seeing every thing and hearing but little, as he is partially deaf. The preachers generally call him "Uncle George." His long life of labor and use- fulness sits upon him as a crown of honor and glory; a large number of the members of the Conference were brought into the Church and licensed to preach by him, and he looks upon them as his children, and you will not unfrequently hear the preachers say, "I wish he was young again." It was delightful to see how both preachers and people hung upon his lips Avhile he preached the sermon before the ordination of ciders. I was surj^rised to find his mind so well pre- served, while his body is sinking under the pressure of age and disease. He has been a power in his day. Close by him sits Thomas Joyner, whose physical strength has been better preserved, and who is still able to take work. His face is a true index to a kind and generous heart, while his mellow voice in song still melts and warms the hearts of his brethren. Close to him is Brother Davidson, whose beard is as white as wool, but his countenance bright and balmy; and he is still able to go in and out among his brethren. These brethren have been in the harvest-field of this world's ruin, sickle in hand, for nearly half a century, gather- ing sheaves for the heavenly garner, with sandals worn, and the dust of long travel and labor on their gar- ments; the sickles begin to swag in their hands, and soon they will reach them forth for the last sheaf, and when the Master of the vinej^ard shall call his laborers to their eternal reward, these faithful men will go up liigher. The business of the Conference Avas finished up in good style, and, as far as I was able to judge, general 476 MExMPHIS CONFERENCE. satisfaction was the result. The Central University scheme met with unusual fiivor, passed the Conference without one dissenting voice, and Brother Patterson was appointed agent — a better could not have been se- lected ; so that the prospects of this institution brighten every day. There were several visiting brethren pres- ent, among whom were Dr. Wiley, of Emory and Henry College, and Brother Comer, of the Tennessee Confer- ence. The Conference contributed, in cash and sub- scriptions, something more than eleven hundred dollars for the refitting of the Publishing House, and I hope the Conferences yet to be held will do likewise. The Missionary Anniversary was not satisfactory. I do not know why it is that we can raise money for almost any purpose with more ease than for the cause of Missions. This ought not so to be. The indebtedness to the Pub- lishing House was generally paid off, and if I had time, I think I could induce almost every one here to take the Advocate. Somerville, the seat of the Conference, is an old town of some two or three thousand inhab- itants. The Conference was accommodated in good style. Thirty-five years ago I Avas at a Conference in this town, and was entertained by Dr. Hickerson and his young and lovely wife, and, when reaching the place assigned me this time, was agreeably surprised to find myself in the same house ; but changes had taken place: the Doctor had passed away, but Mrs. Hickerson and four children remain, and Mr. Spain, who has married her youngest daughter, lives with the mother. In this truly worthy and hospitable family I have found a pleasant home. The citizens and preachers are mutual in their expressions of pleasure and grati- fication. The next session of the Conference is to be held in HOT SPRINGS, ARKANSAS. 477 Memphis. I sliall leave this evening for Corinth, the seat of the JSTorth Mississippi Conference, after which you may hear from me again. is72. Hot Springs, Arkansas. When parting with you I promised a letter, and would have redeemed my pledge before now, were it not that I knew that between the reports from Com- mencement-exercises, the proceedings of District Con- ferences, and the general news of the Church, you must be greatly crowded, and we do not like to be crowded this hot weather; so I decided to w^ait a little; and it may be that I am now too soon for your comfort. The fine rain of yesterday has cooled the air a little, which had its influence on me; but it is still too hot for per- fect comfort. The Hot Springs of Arkansas, where I am now so- journing, is a place of great interest in many respects, and will be more so as the world grows older. It is situated sixty miles a little south of west from Little Rock, among the outcroppings of the Ozark Mountains, south of the main range, in latitude 34° 40', witli an elevation of seventeen hundred feet above the level of the sea. The Hot Springs Yalley extends from north to south for a considerable distance. The western mountain, or ridge, is about eight hundred feet high, with a very abrupt descent, while the ridge east of the valley is not so high by two hundred feet, and has rather a gentle slope. This is the ridge from which the Hot Springs gush forth. The surrounding country is generally poor, but is well supplied with timber, chiefly pine and oak. The surface-soil consists of about equal 478. HOT SPRINGS, ARKANSAS. portions of earth and gravel; the rocks are generally freestone, and give evidence of a great upheaval, as they are in perpendicular strata, with a slight inclina- tion to the north-west, in the direction of the main range of the Ozark Mountains. Within a few miles of where I am now writing is the great Arkansas whet- stone quarry, containing sufficient material to supply the world with hones and whetstones; and some fifteen miles distant is the Crystal Mountain, which will one day supply the world with glasses for spectacles. This region would furnish an interesting field for the mineralogist. The country is free from all that would produce malaria; so that I should think a more healthful locality cannot be found. The streams are clear, and generally flow in a southern direction; for the whole water-shed is toward the south. The coun- try is but thinly settled, and the improvements only moderate, the land being too poor to tempt persons to make settlements, except in the valleys or near the water-courses. Game is yet plentiful in the forests; deer are abundant, and the streams are full of fish. The Hot Springs colony extends a distance of two miles along the valley, the average width of which does not exceed two hundred j^ards. Through the val- ley flows a small, clear brook, into which the waters of the Hot Springs are emptied. There is one main road, or street, which runs the whole length of the valley, and on each side of which are the j^rincipal buildings of the place, many of them standing across the stream. The buildings are entirely of wood, and generally of a cheap and inferior qualitj^, the legal title to the soil not being settled. I should think the permanent popula- tion does not exceed one thousand, while there are probably fifteen hundred visitors. Almost every house HOT SPRINGS, ARKANSAS. 479 is either an hotel, a boarding-house, or a shop of some description. The visitors are from all parts of the country, either in search of health or nurses to those ^Yho are afflicted. I supposed that where there were so many sick general gloom and melancholy would pre- vail, but the fact is very different. A large proportion of the invalids consider themselves improving, which renders their spirits buoyant, and delights their friends, so that we are a happ}^ set. With regard to the Hot Springs, which are the won- der and admiration of all who visit the place, a few words will not be amiss. There are between forty and fifty different springs, or jets; they are not mere seeps, but most of them are bold, strong springs. An area of one-quarter of a mile in length, and some two hundred yards in width., contains them all. They issue from a ledge of the ridge, two hundred feet high on its western slope, and each spring seems to be entirely independent of the others, the temperature of no two of them being precisely the same. There are none of a temperature lower than 110° Fah., while that of some is as high as 160°. The mineral deposits are not at all alike in color; each spring has its own peculiar deposit. Where the water is conducted in open troughs the deposit is abun- dant; but when conducted in close j^ipes, there is no deposit at all. It seems that as soon as the water is exposed to the action of the atmosphere decomposition commences, certain properties being thrown off by cooling; so that it will be difficult to obtain a satisfac- tory analysis, as the water cannot be analyzed until it is partially cooled. I suppose we may account in this way for the fact that this water, when cool, is found to contain only seventeen per cent, of mineral substances, 480 HOT SPRINGS, ARKANSAS. while it is an interesting fact that no vegetable matter has been found in it. The source of the heat of the water is not known. At first I supposed it to be the result of chemical ac- tion ; but I have changed my opinion ; for although the temperature of the different springs is not the same, yet in any one of them it is the same from day to day, and from 3'ear to year; and if we admit the heat to be the result of chemical action, we should expect variations in temperature, as the chemical supply might increase or diminish. It is farther worthy of note that no drought, however long continued, has ever diminished the amount of water, while floods of rain never increase it. These springs are independent of rain and dew, having no dependence on the condition of our atmos- phere, nor any connection with surface drainage, but continue their constant flow, as though they were from another world. The remedial agent in these waters has yet to be dis- covered; it cannot be the properties of the few minerals found in the water. But it will be found, if ever found at all, in the heat of the water; for the heat is cer- tainly of a peculiar kind. Any ordinary water, heated by chemical action — heated over a fire, for instance — will oifend the mucous membrane, and make the per- son drinking it sick. But not so with these waters; they ofl'end the stomach of no person, no matter what the temperature may be, or who it is that drinks; they are taken by persons whose stomachs are so irritable as not to retain any kind of fluid, and yet no stomach re- bels against them; and it is almost uniformly the case that those who use the hot water soon become fond of it, and want no other kind. I will say farther, with regard to the heat of these waters, that persons may HOT SPRINGS, ARKANSAS. 481 bathe in them without any kind of prostration, at a temperature which would be unbearable in water heated over a fire. As to the medicinal properties of the water, we can only judge of them by the effects produced, which are, in many instances, truly wonderful. Take, for exam- ple, the case of a man of whom I have some knowl- edge, having interested myself in raising a small purse to pay for his humble board. He had been thrown into a wagon which was coming to the Springs from Little Rock, as you would throw in a worthless, filthy bundle; he was almost naked, and the miserable gar- ments that he had on him were cemented fast to his body by the discharges from his ulcers. He had on him more than eighty ulcers, some of them as large as a man's hand. He could not be admitted into any reg- ular bath, but was carried to the hill-side bath, which is a small excavation in the cavernous rock, filled with water from a hot spring close by. He was tumbled into this pool, and in two weeks he was walking about, the lesser ulcers already healed, and in six weeks he was cured, with scarcely a scar to be seen. A kind and merciful God has given to these waters the power of healing the most loathsome diseases. This fact, when it shall be knoAvn throughout the land, will bring un- numbered thousands here ; for here, I believe, they may find perfect soundness of health. Persons suffering Avith all kinds of diseases are here seeking relief; many are cured, others partly relieved, while some go away without' being benefited. Before I came I was told that consumptive persons would be injured by these baths; but the facts, as far as I can gather them, are to the contrary. I am told that persons who are affected with heart-disease are injured 21 482 HOT SPRINGS, ARKANSAS. by the bath. I buried one of this class the other day. He took a bath, and died that night. All diseases of the skin are either cured or more or less relieved. The other day I met a black boy, who said to me, "Don't you know Tom, who used to work for you?" Poor Tom, when he left my house, was so eaten up with scrofula that he was an offense to the sight. Not able to obtain even the advice of a doctor, he came here, and tumbled into this hill-side bath ; he is now a well, sleek, liearty negro. There should be some provision for the poor, and I suppose, if the title to the property should be settled, there will be. At present it is a sight which will not be forgotten to go to this hill-side bath when the poor, moneyless, and afflicted come to be healed; 3^ou would be filled with wonder, disgust, and astonishment; and it is worthy of note that while the rich give a dollar now and then for their relief, the poor help each other very much. A man who has use of one leg, with his crutch, will help the man who has no use of his legs at all; and it is sad to find many of them full of vulgarity and blasphemy; and yet they are more inclined to help each other than were those in the porches of the pool of Siloam ; for some person will help the meanest of the men into the pool. Here can be often seen some poor fellow outside, waiting to get into the mud-hole, as they call it, while some one already in the bath will curse him, and tell him to wait a little while till he shall come out, and he will drag his rotten carcass into the bath ; and while poor, diseased men have this roU-hola, as it is sometimes called, poor, unfortunate women have no ])rovision made for them at all, though some of them, I have heard, visit this same pool in the dark hours of the night. Besides this general bath there are several HOT SPRINGS, ARKANSAS. 483 small boles, where persons can go and take a foot-bath. There is water enough running from these springs to bathe many thousands every day. The water may be carried in pipes almost any distance, as it does not lose its virtue when conveyed in a close pipe. The time will come when all these springs will be utilized to an extent that has not yet been imagined. With regard to the moral aspect of the place, I should say it is not good. The Methodists had the misfortune to have their house of worship burned some time ago, and have not since been able to rebuild. The Catholics have a house and a priest, and, I suppose, a small con- gregation. The Episcopalians have a house, but no regular minister, and but few members. The Presby- terians have neither house nor preacher. The Baptists have a small house, badl}^ situated, but no regular preacher. The Methodists have a preacher and a con- gregation, and worship in the Baptist church. The preacher is a young man of talent and usefulness, but feels himself fettered because he has no house. His Sunday-school is a union school, so that our literature cannot be admitted, and badly do the children need it. This is a great drawback these days. The time has been when the Church prospered without a Sunday- school, but that time has passed. There are a number of good and pious people in this valley; but the multi- tude pay no attention to Church-matters. I think that if the Methodists had a comfortable house for worship, an active, working minister might do great good. I have preached for the people almost every Sabbath since T have been here — sometimes in the Episcopal church (it has not been dedicated), but mostly in the Baptist church. The congregations have been good, generally, and quite an interest has been manifested to 484 HOT SPRINGS, ARKANSAS. hear the word; but there has been nothing like a re- vival among the people A few days ago I was called on to officiate at the burial of a young man, who left no trace of his identity except the name on the hotel register; no one knew where he lived, where he was from; his nge had to be guessed at; we could not tell whether he was a single man or man of family; and as to his moral character, no one knew a word. There is a wide field for pastoral work among the hundreds who are sick in this valley. The country generally, it seems to me, is such as would suit a man of moderate means. In the depression, and along the water-courses, there are small tracts of good land, where an abundance of graiir, fruits, and vegetables might be raised ; and these Springs will always furnish a good market for any surplus. The country is health- ful, the climate pleasant, lands can be bought low, very low, and railroads are beginning to open up the country to the rest of the world. I wish you had the time to spend a few months here, for with the rest and the baths I think your wasted sight would be re- stored. 1873. The night after leaving IN'ashville we had one of the most fearful rain-storms that I ever experienced, and on reaching Memphis the whole land seemed to be covered with water, so- that the six o'clock train for Little Rock did not go out, and we spent the day in Memphis, and took the evening train, which was a frightful-looking prospect. The Mississippi was out of its banks, and for forty miles there w^as nothing but one vast sea of water, save the narrow embankment upon wdiich the train crept slowl}" along. I took a HOT SPRINGS, ARKANSAS. 485 berth in the sleeping-car, nnd committing m3^self into the hands of that Almighty Power that rules in heaven and earth, I closed my eyes upon the dangers around me, and at earl}^ dawn rose just in time to see the train pass over the new and splendid bridge that spans the Arkansas Eiver at Little Eock. The trip had been made safely with an immense train and a multitude of passengers We were in time to make the necessary connection, and at eight o'clock landed at the depot, where we took stage for the Springs; and although I am rather an old traveler, I think the road was the worst I ever saw — there was not one mile of good road in the twenty-two; it had rained almost every day for weeks, and the amount of travel was immense, so that the road was frightful; but, at the rate of a littFe over two miles per hour, we made the trip in safety. There was a good deal of stalling, and some upsetting, and we passed through some streams where the water ran into our hack, yet we all escaped with our lives. So man}^ had passed on before us, notwithstanding the difficulties of the way, that we found the pub- lic houses at the Springs so crowded that we had to drive around for some time before we could find quar- ters. The number here at present is much greater than at any previous time at this season of the year. Tlie visitors are mainly from the East and North — but few from the South, though they are now beginning to come in. Our Church here is improving; Brother Morris, the preacher in charge, is an earnest, working man, and, I think, will do much good. We are worshi2)ing in the Protestant Episcopal church at present; they have no minister, and wc have no house, having had the mis- fortune to have our church burned down. AYe have a 486 HOT SPRINGS, ARKANSAS. good Sunday-school, not a union school — as last year — • but a Methodist school, pretty well supplied with our books. The members and friends of our school have determined to build a house this summer; the lot is se- cured, a building-committee appointed, and if any per- son at a distance should feel inclined to help them it would be thankfully received. I have preached twice every Sunday since I have been here — in the morning in the Episcopal church, and at night in the dining-room of the Grand Central Hotel, to good congregations; am not only the helping preacher in the station, but am now appointed by Dr. Hunter as assistant Presiding Elder. An Arkansas District is something worth talking about — too large for one man. I find from several suggestions in the papers, but more especially from letters that I am receiving from various directions, that there will be more changes called for at our approaching General Conference than I had anticipated. I had supposed that we should have but little to do, and should be able to get through in about two weeks, but the indications are that we shall have a long session. Some wish to do away with the home missions altogether, others wish to direct all our attention to the home work and abandon the for- eign missions; and so we go. I think we shall have to give our missionary system an airing^ and. make some changes, but it is difficult to tell what would be for the best; some wish the Conferences to act separately and independently, others go for concentration. I think the more connectional we are, in the main, the better, and that we ought to watch with caution every thing that looks like an independent or congregational sys- tem. Some think it would be best to district the cpis- bishops' meeting in ST. LOUIS. 487 copal work, and thereby get rid of the clamor that comes up in various quarters for more episcopal service. Some wish to do away with the Church Conference, and so change the law with reference to District Con- ferences as to hold them only when and where a Bishop can be present, and others are inclined to give these Conferences more power and authority. And of late the w^oman-movement in the Temperance cause has greatly excited some persons on the subject, and they are of the opinion that we should have some legislation upon that matter. On all of these questions we should make haste slowly. I think the Church in this section of the country is prosperous in the main, and am glad to find that the Yanderbilt enterprise is very popular; when we once get under way there will be an immense patronage from this country. I trust my health is improving, and that this will find you well and happy. 1874. Bishops' Meeting in St. Louis. The Bishops' Meeting in St. Louis was one of extra- ordinary interest; they were all present with the ex- ception of Bishops Early and Marvin — Bishop Early being unable to attend from the infirmities of old age, and Bishop Marvin from distance, being in California. There were also present quite a number of ministers and laymen, leading members of the Church. The friends in St. Louis fully appreciated the occasion, and made ample provision for it. I am happy to be able to say that the Church in St. Louis is keeping up with the increase of population and growth of the cit}'-, and is a power in the community. The church-buildings 488 bishops' meeting in st. louis. are in good taste, and fully up with the age and the improved style of architecture. The congregations are large, and the ministers in charge of them fully equal to the demands made upon them. St. John's, which was dedicated during this meeting, is a perfect gem; in design, style, and finish, it is fiiultless; and is now com- pleted at a cost of about one hundred thousand dollars. Centenary congregation laid the corner-stone of a new church during the meeting, which I understand is to exceed St. John's in its cost and appointments. There was a Sunday-school convention of the St. Louis District during the meeting of the Bishops, but it took into its deliberations members of the Church generally. I was permitted to witness a part of the proceedings of this convention ; and while I think good was accomplished by the free discussion of many points of interest that came before the body, yet I thought I saw a disposition to do something, instead of having something to do. When we have something to do we are generally practical, but when it is a mere effort to do something, it is mainlj" theory — a mere resolution meeting. While on this subject, permit me to say to all concerned — as there is a disposition for Sunday-school conventions among our people, which I am glad to see — if we do any thing that will to any considerable extent promote the interest of Sunday-schools, we shall have to work in sympathy with our present machinery on the subject ; the Church could not conveniently run two sys- tems. We shall have to keep the Sunday-school inside the Church-organization, which is a fine one on this subject. Let those conventions work under that char- ter, then there will be less friction and no strife, and great good will be the result. The mass-meeting of the Sunday-schools in the cit}' bishops' meeting in ST. LOUIS. 489 ■was a decided success; the weather was fine, the hall in which the gathering took place is immense in pro- portions, and every way suited the occasion. I should think there were fifteen hundred children present, with the teachers and officers, and then enough outsiders to make two thousand persons. No one fell sick, no one fainted, no disturbance of any kind reached my eye or ear; the music was transporting; the address was list- ened to with seeming pleasure; the young folks in their best attire, with their joy-lit eyes and smiling faces furnished a picture of beauty exceeding the reaches of fancy. The banners and mottoes were in good taste and very impressive; altogether it was a success in the fullest sense of the word. There was what was called a "greeting to the Bish- ops." This came off in the First Church, which was crowded to overflowing. There was a sj^ice of novelty in the proceedings which helped to increase the inter- est. The exercises were opened with singing and prayer; the music was appropriate and inspiring; the prayer was offered by Dr. Smith, whom I was grieved to find so worn and tired; he is overworked, and must have rest; yet his mighty intellect seems to retain its former power and clearness. Then followed a very handsome address from Governor Polk, a lay-member of the congregation — a welcome of the Bishops to the hearts and homes of the Methodists of the city of St. Louis, which was well conceived and handsomely delivered. Then came the response of the Bishops. I had supposed that they would select one of their number to speak for the whole College, but was pleased to find that each one Avas going to respond in his own way; and glad to notice how completely they preserved their individuality; there was no running 21* 490 THE bishops' meeting in ST. LOUIS. in each other's grooves, but each followed his own nat- ural bent in manner, style, and conception, which gave a remarkable interest to the occasion. Bishop Andrew led off, and Bishop McTyeire brought up the rear. They said nothing which I wanted left out; nor left out any thing which I wanted said. The only thing wanting to have made the occasion perfect was, that they were not regularly introduced by name, though that was no trouble to me, as I knew them all ; but there were hundreds who did not know who was ad- dressing them; yet the occasion was one to be remem- bered. The Bishops were honored, and they deserved it; for if labor and sacrifice on one hand, and useful- ness to the Church and devotion to the cause of God on the other, create any obligation on the part of those who receive the benefit, a debt of honor and gratitude is due the Bishops of the Methodist Ejiiscopal Church, South. Our missionary meeting was an occasion of consid- erable interest. It also was held in the First Church. The audience was large, and Dr. McFerrin, the Secre- tary of the Domestic Board, made a telling speech — one that will not soon be forgotten. He was followed in a few remarks by Bishop Pierce, and a collection of about eighteen hundred dollars was taken up for domestic missions. The interview between the Bishops of the Methodist Episcopal Church (North) and the Methodist Episco- pal Church, South, has passed under your eye before this writing, and I am not inclined at present to make any comment. I cannot close without saying something with respect to St. Louis hospitality: I never saw it surpassed in liberality, elegance, and good taste; and none excelled THE CHURCH INTERESTS. 491 mine host, Brother L. D. Dameron. I was also im- pressed with the evidences of improvement: the city- is growing like magic, and every thing seems to be done on a large and liberal scale. ' I am under obliga- tions to so many of the good people and the preachers of that great and growing city, that I cannot under- take to mention them by name; but can only say, May *Tod reward them ! ^, iseo. The Church Interests.* I HAVE been thinking of writing to you for some time, and will no longer delay. I see that the Board of Foreign Missions is to meet during the session of the Conference in March. Will it be necessary for me to attend? If it is, I shall try to be present; and if it is not, I can find employment enough at home. As the President of the Domestic Board, I have been trying to guard the interest of the Foreign Society as well as I could; and yet I think there are some points of diffi- cult}^ existing that ought to be looked into, lest the Domestic Board and domestic interest, like the lean kine, devour the Foreign. The old debt should be paid, and foreign missions sustained; but no doubt you will be able to manage these matters without my assist- ance. I am glad to find that your paper is doing so well. I have never failed to recommend it wherever I have been, and I think it will ultimately obtain a wide cir- culation in this country; it will grow and prosper. The fact that it commenced under circumstances which made economy and great prudence necessary, in order * Correspondence of the Baltimore Episcopal Methodist. 492 THE CHURCH INTERESTS. that it should sustain itself, will in the end result in its favor; if it can travel so rough a path in its infancy, what will it be able to do when it shall have gathered strength, and its way shall become smooth ? At present the South (the whole South) is struggling with difficul- ties; and as men can live without a newspaper, but cannot live without bread, thousands are surely wait- ing until they shall be able to enjoy health. It is truly gratifying to see that, notwithstanding the terrible pressure that is upon the country, churches are being built and repaired, the Publishing House is more than sustaining itself, old debts are being paid, Sab- bath-schools are prospering, and thousands upon thou- sands are knocking at the door of the poor, persecuted Church for admission ; and while many of the preachers on circuits cannot find among their friends the food to feed their horses, they have given up riding, and are walking round their circuits with a clean collar, and a Bible and hymn-book in their pockets — and the sound of their Master's feet is heard behind them. The trial through which we are passing is dreadfully fiery; but we are passing through it, thank God! There is less complaining and better work done than when the straw was supplied. Every day is furnishing history, upon which coming generations will look with astonishment. The days of the martyrs have come again; every man seems to feel his responsibility. Our Bishops are work- ing as they never worked before. The acts of our last General Conference were just what we needed, and I am rejoiced to believe that the two measures now before the Annual Conferences will be carried. "Were the vote on the change of name to be taken over again in the Tennessee Conference, I do not think there would be one-half dozen against it. CONFERENCE AND MISSIONS. 493 The brethren were influenced by a false fear of evil consequences — no matter what. Give my kindest regards to Dr. Sehon, Dr. Bond, and anybody you i^lease. God bless you and the paper, and all the interests of the Church! i867. Conference and Missions.* On leaving for the Baltimore Conference, or rather the meeting of the Board of Foreign Missions, I prom- ised to write to you; and as letter-writing seems to be one of the fashions of the day, I have resolved to try my hand. I lelt Nasliville, accompanied by Dr. Mc- Ferrin, on tlie evening train, and had to pass the night on the cars. There was a sleeper attached; but sleep- ing-cars are a failure so far as I am concerned. They always beget a feeling of confinement which makes it impossible for me to rest or sleep; so that I have aban- doned them altogether. The seats in the regular pas- senger-car are not intended for a bed ; they will do very well to sit on; but for a man of my size to attempt to lie on them is not to be thought of; the hard corners and sharp edges are constantly disturbing my peace, and I am too large to be tied up and stowed away in so small a space. I have never been able to make a night on a rail- road train either profitable or comfortable. Even my senses are of very little service to me; I cannot see well enough to make my eyes useful, and the noise of the train renders my ears equally useless, Avhile my thoughts are confused by the jarring, quivering mo- tion; so that at night 1 am in a state of mental nonen- ■-•'■ Correspondence of the Nashville Chrisiian Advocate. 494 CONFERENCE AND MISSIONS. tity, or waking nightmare; and the snoring of fat men and the crying of children have a wasting, wearing eifect on my patience. During the day I have found it no easy matter to employ my time profitably. I cannot read with comfort, as the motion is so tremulous that it requires an effort when I end one line to find the begin- ning of the next; and constantly thinking that im exertion of this kind involves a danger of irritating the nervous centers makes reading more laborious than pleasant. Talking is also difficult; if I begin when all is still, as soon as we get in motion I find that I am talking in too low a key, and have to use a kind of mental pitch-pipe to raise the tone of voice, or talk sharp on a flat, which would soon wear out any pair of lungs. If I commence conversation when under way, just as soon as we stop I find myself talking too loud, and have to come down, which is difficult to do without destroying the effect of what is said. If I become list- ener, the difiiculty seems to increase; not being able to hear distinctly, I do not know when to say, "To be sure!" "You don't say so!" "Is it possible?" and I never did like to say continually, "I do n't understand you;" and to see a man's lips moving, and his head nodding and shaking, and gesticulating and pointing with his hands, and not be able to hear what he is saying, is to me most ludicrous. If I get to a window to look out at the country, I can see only on one side, and that very im- perfectly. When the train approaches an elevation, from which a good view could be obtained, we are sud- denly plunged into a cut, and cannot see any thing at all; when we pass through a valley, the hills obstruct the view, and the rapid motion will not allow the objects within range of vision to be seen to advantage. A con- sideration of all these circumstances impels me to say. CONFERENCE AND MISSIONS. 495 emphatically, that the only benefit to be derived from traveling by rail is that you soon arrive at your desti- nation. Give me a steam-boat or a buggy, always! When we reached Abingdon Dr. McFerrin left me, as he had made an appointment at that place for the Sabbath; but I was afraid to stop, lest I should be too late for my engagement at Baltimore. Although the cars were well filled with passengers, I w^as now alone, as I generally fail to make acquaintances while travel- ing. When I set out to travel with company, my ar- rangements embrace them only, and I have no disposi- tion to add to or diminish their number. It sometimes happens that something very amusing may be seen on a train. I frequently see persons who are in constant fear that the train will carry them past the place at which they wish to stop, as they know nothing more than the name of the station. On this trip I saw one man who sprang to his feet several times, when the whistle blew, and, gathering up his bundle, wildly inquired, "What place is this?" The brakeman, who forces open the door and cries out the names of stations, speaks the words in such a way that I seldom know^ what he says. My anxious friend was all attention, and was never satisfied until he could learn the name of the place. He would then say, "That 's not it," and again take his seat. At one timcwhen the whistle blew, and the brakeman shouted out something, no one could tell what, my friend snatched up his bundle, saying, "What place did he say it is?" I replied that I did not under- stand him. By this time we were again in motion, and the conductor came reeling by in hot haste after the fare of an old lady who had just come on board. My friend plucked him, asking, "What place is this?" The conductor did not stop, nor even look back, but hastily 496 CONFERENCE AND MISSIONS. said, "Mossy Creek." "That's not it," said the man. A lad came by, and burst into a loud laugh, saying, "I thought the brakeman said, 'Mollie's feet!''' The fact is, conductors are so much worried with questions that they will not stop to talk to a man unless he appears to be a person of imj^ortance. The brave engine-reinsman held the flaming, metal- lic steed to the track, and over the plains, through the tangled forests, across the streams, and among the sul- len rocks and everlasting hills, Ave went rattling, whirl- ing, smoking, snorting, and shouting defiantly, by day and by night, and in about fifty hours halted at Wash- ington City, where I rested for the night. The next day was the holy Sabbath, and soon after breakfast I went in search of a Southern Methodist Church, which I very soon found. The Sunday-school had not yet opened, though the children were collecting. I asked a lad, "What church is this?" "It belongs to the Methodist Episcopal Church, South," was the answer. "Who is your jireacher?" "Mr. Tudor," said he, "and he is the best preacher in the city." It was not long before Mr. Tudor made his appearance, and it was truly gratifying to see with what pleasure all eyes turned upon him. He seemed to be perfectly at home, and was master of the situation. At eleven o'clock I had the pleasure of listening to a sermon preached by the Eev. S. Keppler, who is a well-sustained, elegant Christian gentleman, and is an honor to his calling — a fine speci- men of a man and Christian minister. There was an apjDointment for me at night, but I was so hoarse from cold I could not speak. The pastor, Mr. Tudor, took ray place, and did his work well. In person, expres- sion, manner, voice, mind, and no doubt feeling, he is a striking likeness of the now sainted Baldwin. CONFERENCE AND MISSIONS. 497 On the next morning I visited the White House, and had a pleasant interview with President Johnson. I found him in good health, and as far as I could see, in good spirits. He is hopeful with regard to the future welfare of the country, having confidence in the good sense and integrity of the people. It was a treat to find a man with so much confidence in the people, when I had been thinking that they had brought the coun- try into the trouble of which we complained. In the evening I ran up to Baltimore, and was soon in the midst of friends, both of the ministry and laity. In speaking of the Conference and Board of Missions, and the manifestations of kindness, hospitality, and fraternity, in both the fiimily circles and the great con- gregation, I have not the least fear of overstating any thing. I think the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, appreciates the course taken b}^ the Baltimore Confer- ence in connecting her destiny with the Southern Church. It seems to me there was in their act a re- markable freedom from worldly -mindedness, selfish- ness, and all the sordid tendencies of human nature. They came to us in the day of our calamity. It is not common for persons to quit their rich relations, and go and knock at the door of their poor kin, and ask to live with them in their poverty. The Baltimore Confer- ence did not come to us on account of the greatness of our numbers, the richness of our membership, the ex- tensiveness of our publishing interests, or the fatness of our treasury; they came to us when we seemed to be in ruins, scattered, peeled, and wasted in substance, and persecuted by the strong. They came from prin- ciple; it shows itself in every act; you cannot find a mean-looking man in the whole body; they can look you in the eye and talk of right, conscience, princi]>lo; 498 CONFERENCE AND MISSIONS. and yet they came so meekly, so quietly, asking no ova- tion, no office, no distinction. ThatGrod who regards the right is evidentl}^ with them. Neither was it a youth- ful freak of wild adventure; they are men of age, of mark, of usefulness, who would be an ornament in any society, and worthy of any pulpits in America. They deserve honor, and they have it. The business of the Board was well attended to; all the distant members were present — Drs. Deems, Head, and Cunnyngham — and it was pleasant to see with what interest and earnestness they entered upon the work before them. As to the Conference, you have full information. Some of the popular meetings held during the session were occasions of remarkable interest. The Sunday- school gatherings at the Central and Trinity Churches were transcendent. Dr. Eoszell and Dr. Hall were happy men. On Sunday, at 3 p.m., Dr. Eoszell saw the lambs of his flock gathered together, and was justly proud of them; his great, generous heart swelled and throbbed with pleasure, and every expression of his manly face spoke forth his inward joy. At Trinity, on Tuesday night. Dr. Hall gathered up his strength in the Sunday-school department, with the devices of each class and their offerings for the promotion of missions and Sunday-schools in the poor and laboring Church in the South, which amounted to something more than one thousand dollars. In the vast witnessing assembly every heart was moved, every soul inspired, and all talked poetry. Bishop Wightman seemed to stand on air, and the words fell from his lips with a strange sweetness. Dr. Sargent will never be as happy again till he gets to heaven ; to his poetry there seemed to be no end. It was an occasion which I think I shall never CONFERENCE AND MISSIONS. 499 forget. I saw class after class with their offerings be- fore the Lord; but the most tender and delicate chords of my nature were never struck till the infant-class appeared; they were as clean and neat as freshly-pol- ished stars on a frosty night, and their faces glowed with pleasure; their eyes so dazzled with joy that they really seemed to give out light; and then there came sweeping over the waste of eighteen hundred years the words of the Master, saying, "Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not." I looked for something in nature with which to compare these chil- dren, and thought of the cactus grandiflora^ or night- blooming cereus — the bloom of which is too tender and delicate to encounter the warm sunshine and dry, parching winds of noonday,, and only comes forth to be looked upon'by the pale light of stars, and to receive the soft kiss of the air when it is mild and subdued and made sweet by the dew of night — but there was too little life and motion in these. I then thought of some gentle, harmless insect, with its polished crown, its gilded wings, and velvet robe, which had taken a deli- cate morsel for its supper, and folded its wings, and se- lected as its chamber of repose the highly-adorned cup of the drooping fuchsia, and was rocked to sleep by the light breath of evening, perfumed by the odor of a thou- sand flowers, and arose the next morning and washed its face and hands in a drop of dew; but that would not do, and I dashed it aside and thought of heaven, because every thing else was far below. The Conference missionary meeting and Sunday- school anniversaries Avere all successful; yet it may be that I am like the boy who had just returned from a quarterly-meeting, and being questioned with regard to the kind of meeting they had, said, "First-rate; we 500 THE CHURCH, NORTH AND SOUTH. had the nicest kind of weather, and I had a mighty good place to stay." I think I may safely say that the Methodist Church, South, in all her interests, is growing and strengthen- ing in Maryland. The preachers were nearly all pres- ent, and, as far as I know, enjoyed good health, having suffered no loss by death or confirmed affliction during the year. They were well dressed, and gave evidence that they had been among their friends. The next ses- sion of the Conference will be held at Trinity Church, which is falling into line, and promises to be a power in the Church for usefulness. There is to the South gen- erally, and to the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, especially, something in the words Maryland and Balti- more that makes the action of the heart quicken with emotions of gratitude. I must say that as far as I can sec in the Church, there is an evident spirit prompt- ing both ministry and laity to increased labor and sacrifice. It would be unjust to close without saying that there is a genuine conviction among our people that the Church has made no mistake in the selection of men for the episcopal office, and that our Bishops are, in labors, sacrifices, and usefulness, noble examples to the rest of the ministry. The Church, North and South. Having seen, from time to time, various articles in your paper concerning the difficulties in the Church in East Tennessee, growing out of the persecutions of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, by the Methodist Episcopal Church, North; and having spent some time THE CHURCH, NORTH AND SOUTH. 501 in the bounds of the Holston Conference, which em- braces the section of country where the troubles com- plained of have chiefly occurred; and not being mixed up with the contention and strife in any way, it has occurred to me that I might state some facts with re- gard to this matter that would enlighten your readers. But it will first be necessary to make some general statements; for there are other sections of the country where kindred troubles exist, all having as a founda- tion the same class of errors. It will be understood b}^ the reader that these difficulties and disagreements are found between two branches of the Methodist Church — the Methodist Episcopal Church, North, and the Methodist Episcopal Church, South — and in this article I shall use the words "North" and "South" as distinguishing terms for the purpose of brevity. I am in some respects better prepared to write on this sub- ject than many others. In the first place, I am in a good humor— have not been insulted and irritated; and in the next place, I have occupied a position which has enabled me to make myself ftimiliar with all the facts, changes, and phases connected with the subject, from the beginning of the dispute up to this hour, and I write this article simply because it seems no one else will do it, and trust I am prompted by a good motive, which is, that all may know the facts as they are. It will be no part of my work to abuse any one, or call hard names — far from it. I am for peace, and wish to promote the cause of God and our common Methodism, and if the reader will receive it in the spirit in which it is written, it will do him good. In order to understand the true nature of the present difficulty between the Cliurch, North and South, we must carry the reader back to the beginning of those 502 THE CHURCH, NORTH AND SOUTH. troubles. This is the more necessary from the fiict that tha Church, South, is called a rebel Church, a se- cession Church, a disloyal Church; while the Church, North, claims to be the mother Church, the old Church, the loyal Church. Now, if these representations were true, then it would be right for honest men to make use of the facts in promoting the interests of the Church, North; but if these distinctions do not exist in fact, they cannot be pleaded for or against, as the case may be. This will carry us back to the General Con- ference of 1844. T shall merely state the great leading facts. This General Conference consisted of some- thing over two hundred delegates. The South had fifty-two, and the North about one hundred and fifty; this was not only a majority of two-thirds, but nearly three-fourths. So you wMll see at a glance that the North had the power to do just any thing it wished, without paying the slightest attention to the speeches or votes of the South. I entreat you not to forget this filCt. The North wished to depose Bishop Andrew because he was connected with slavery — not because he was acting in violation of the law of God or of the Church, but because a large portion of the membership of the Church in the Northern States believed slavery was contrary to the spirit of Christianity, and as our epis- copacy was a unit, and a Bishop was a universal pastor of the Church, and Bishop Andrew, as Bishop, be- longed as much to the Church in the Northern as in the Southern States, and the Northern Methodists would not receive him as Bishop, and as it was not expedient that he be continued as Bishop, he must be deposed. Now, mark well — the South went for the Discipline of the Church as it was, and with the Discipline and law THE CHURCH, NORTH AND SOUTH. 503 of the Church in its hands entered on the defense of Bishop Andrew. The North went outside of the Dis- cipline and law of the Church, substituting instead thereof expediency as their law, and deposed Bishop Andrew. Now, here was where the first crack was made and the split began; and I shall leave the reader to determine who did the slabbinc*. The South asked for no law of expediency; so that if there must be a secession, who seceded? Not the South — they asked for no change, wanted none. If you are a candid man and disposed to tell the truth, and still will have it that somebody seceded, you must be compelled to acknowl- edge that the North seceded, and that that is the rebel Church, so far as disloyalty to Methodism is con- cerned. When the General Conference took action and de- posed Bishop Andrew, all that the Southern delegates could do was to enter a protest against the action of the Conference; they were powerless in the hands of the majority. But did not the Southern delegates di- vide the Church? How could they divide the Church? They could have taken up their hats and come home, but that would not have divided the Church. Just at this point I wish the reader to mark well the step taken; and what I say is not taken from any history, but is asserted from what I saw and heard, being there. The first man I heard mention the word division was the Eev. Mr. Eaper, of Ohio, who took me out and told me that we would have to divide — belabored me for some time on the subject. The next man that made an argument to me on the subject 'was the Rev. Dr. Elliott. This was after the matter had been suggested by a number of Northern ministers, and after I had made a speech on the Conference-floor against division, 504 THE CHURCH, NORTH AND SOUTH. a synopsis of which is to be found in the published records of that Conference. Dr. Elliott came to my room, as I supposed, by appointment from among his Northern brethren, to induce me to consent to a divis- ion. He stayed with me all night; lay upon my bed, by my side; brought up many arguments in favor of division, some of which I remember to this hour. He said the subject of slavery would continue to agitate us while together, but if divided, the agitation would cease; that where a family could not agree they had better separate, and merel}^ visit each other occasion- ally; and that more fraternity and good feeling would exist between us, when separated, than if we were to continue together and keep wrangling all the time on the subject of slavery. When I told him J was afraid of the consequences, he directed me to the Canada Church, saying that they prospered more since separa- tion than before. But his main argument was the ex- tent of territory — that we were covering too much sur- face, and the representation w^ould soon be so great in a few years that no General Conference could be accommodated. At length the South agreed that a committee should be appointed to see whether a plan could be made for an equitable division of the Church; and who ap- pointed that committee? The Northern preachers, for the Southern had no power to do any thing of them- selves. The committee agreed on a plan, submitted it to the Conference, and it was adopted. Now, I ask the candid reader, Who divided the Church? The North- ern majority performed the act that suggested the ne- cessity; the Northern majority carried out the sugges- tion. I suppose I need not go any fjirther to prove tluit tlie Southern Church is not a secession; far from THE CHURCH, NORTH AND SOUTH. 505 it. Wc are within the old huidmarks, cabling the old ship to the stakes driven by Asbury and McKendree. A few words with respect to the old Church, mother Church. Who planted Methodism in New England? It was a Southern preacher. Who established Meth- odism in Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois? It was Southern preachers. And if you should be governed by the map of the country, and age of the Church in each division, you will soon find that the old Church is in the South. It must be a bad cause that would seek to prop itself by any such flummery as that the Church, North, is the old Church, the mother Church; for every w^ell- informed Methodist must know that one of two things is true: that the person who makes such representa- tions is either ignorant or willfully falsifies. Now as to the loyalty of the Church. If by loyalty we are to understand being true to Methodism, the vSouth claims the preference; if it means fealty to the Gov- ernment, all that is necessary on the subject is to refer them to our Discipline and Articles of Faith; they are the same now" that they were before the war, and were the same during the war — they were never changed. Other denominations, w^iose services consist mainly in written forms, made changes; but the Methodist Epis- copal Church, South, made no change; so that in a po- litical point of view no charge can be made against that Church on the score of loyalty. The next point of interest is on the question of Church-property. The General Conference of 1844, to which so much reference has already been made, did make out a "Plan of Separation" of the Church, fix- ing on a line that should be regarded as the dividing- line between the two coordinate branches of the Church : all of the churches, school-houses, parsonages, ^}\> 506 THE CHURCH, NORTH AND SOUTH. and cemeteries south of that line were to belong to the Southern Church, and all north of it to the Northern. This the General Conference had a right to do. But there was a certain interest which had been held in common by the Church — the Book Concern and Char- tered Fund. According to the line of geographical di- vision this interest fell within the line of the Northern Church, and by that same "Plan of Separation," or contract, or articles of agreement between the parties, the Church, North, was to pay over to the Church, South, her p7'o rata according to the respective number of traveling preachers, as this interest was regarded as the property of the ministry. The Church, South, without delay, threw itself into a 2:)roperly organized condition, and appointed an agent to receive the amount due to the South, and a formal application was made; but the agent of the Northern Church refused to pay over the amount, on the ground that the Re- strictive Article had not been removed, which prohib- its the agents of these interests from paying over the proceeds to any save the traveling preachers, and the widows and orphans of traveling preachers. It was pleaded by the preachers from the South, when the General Conference of 1844 proposed to send the ques- tion around to the Conferences, that they might, by a three-fourths vote, remove the restriction ; the South- ern delegates said that it was unnecessary, as we were not creating any new object of appropriation. This view was assented to, but the Northern delegates said they wanted the restriction taken off for other pur- poses, and the question was sent around, and failed by some eight or ten votes, though some of the Northern Conferences refused to act at all in the matter. But of those Conferences which did act the vote fell a little short THE CHURCH, NORTH AND SOUTH. 507 of three-fourtlis. This the agent of the Church, Xorth, with his commissioners, regarded as a bar to their pay- ing over the amount due to the South under the con- tract. So things continued until the meeting of the Gen- eral Conference of the Church, North, in 1848. This Conference decided that the General Conference of 1844 had no right or power to make any such contract, and pronounced the whole act void. The Church, South, brought suit against the agents of the Church, ISTorth, for said interest, and finally gained it by the decision of the Supreme Court of the United States, on the ground that the contract made by the Conference of 1844 was a valid one. The valid- ity of this contract being thus established, the right of the Church, South, to her propert}^ is vindicated; for it will be borne in mind that the Eestrictive Article did not lie against churches, parsonages, etc.; so that her right to the property within her limits was direct, and without question or embarrassment. The facts now to be stated I will not attempt to prove, as I suppose they will not be questioned. First. The Church, North, is now in possession of quite a number of churches and parsonages, which be- fore the war were the property of the Church, South. Second. There are a number of persons who are claimed and counted as members of the Church, North, who were before the war members of the Church, South; and this change in many instances has been brought about without the act or volition of said per- sons. And I would farther state as a fact, that the preachers of the Church, North, are not willing that the preachers of the Church, South, should return and 508 THE CHURCH, NOllTH AND SOUTH. preiich to their former congregations. These facts we take for granted. It will be our duty, in the farther investigation of this subject, to show how this state of things was pro- duced. It is due to the Methodists of East Tennessee that I should say that before the war they were as true to the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, as far as I know, as other portions of the Church; but at the outbreak of the war there was found in this section of country a strong Union element, growing out of the fact that the Democrats were less inclined to farther endure the oppressive course of the North than the "Whigs were, and East Tennessee was a decided Whig country. The first movement that was made which requires particular notice here was this: As the Confederate army fell back and the country was taken possession of by the Federal forces, the preachers of the Church, South, to a considerable extent, either retired with the Confederate army or quietly remained at home; so that the churches in many instances were left without pastors. JS'ow, the question will arise, Why did the preachers leave their flocks? The answer is this: The Federal army occupied the city of Nashville and a portion of Middle Tennessee before they took posses- sion of East Tennessee, and the Federal authorities arrested and sent off to prison a considerable number of the Methodist preachers in Nashville and its vicin- ity, against whom no charges or specifications were ever brought. This, as you might suppose, alarmed the preachers of the Church, South, as they had no fancy to rot in prison. There came into the country with the Federal army a number of preachers who be- longed to the Church, North, and finding the churches THE CHUIICII, NORTH AND SOUTH. 509 without pastors, they proposed to take charge, saying it was all the same, that slavery would be done away Avith, and that, slavery being the bar to union, now the Churches would unite. This was no doubt often said in good faith, and in this way the people went over en masse in many places. In some instances the membership wished to wait and see how the war was going to terminate before they took any action. In such cases the preachers of the Church, North, called the military to their aid, and took possession b}^ force; and the preacher getting possession of the Church- books and records, enrolled them all upon his list, and counted them as so many members added to the Church, North — stating always that the Confederacy would be put down, and that the Church, South, would never be allowed to reorganize, and that those who wished to be Methodists would have to belong to the Church, North, as that was the only Church — that is, Methodist Church — that could survive. So matters moved on till the close of the war, when the preachers of the Church, South, began to look up their congre- gations, houses of worship, parsonages, etc. Now, you will find that the preachers of the Church, North, have taken a different position. They claim the proi;)erty that was held by the Church in common be- fore the division in 1844, because the deeds were made to the Methodist Episcopal Church. I will say, once for all, what right the Presbj^terian, Baptist, or any other Church, save the Methodist Episcopal Church, may have to the property of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, I cannot determine, as their right, if they have any, has never been tested; but the claim on the part of the Methodist Episcopal Church has been litigated and settled, and it is now part of the 510 THE CHURCH, NORTH AND SOUTH. history and records of the United States, as well as the Church, that the Methodist Episcopal Church (North) has no right in law or equitj^; so that if all the mem- bers of the Church, South, were to die in one day, some other body would have to be found in whom the proj)- erty could vest. Where the Church, l^orth, holds property which has been obtained by the Church, South, since the division, and is deeded to that body, the Church, I^orth, claims the property on the ground that the Church, South, is a disloj^al Church, and has forfeited all right to prop- erty or protection. Let us admit, for the sake of argu- ment, that the Church, South, is disloyal, and has for- feited her right — to whom was she disloyal? To the Government of the "United States; and to that Govern- ment the forfeiture is made, and not to the Church, North; that Church is not yet the Government, and cannot claim on the score of disloyalty. But the fact is, as has already been shown, that the Church, South, is not disloyal, and, as a Church, never was; and such property as the United States authorities took posses- sion of during the war, as a military necessity, has long since been restored to her, and in many instances ap- propriations have been made for the repairing of inju- ries done to such property by the Government; though, I believe, in some instances where the members or friends of the Church, North, have been the agents to receive such appropriations, instead of paying them as intended by the Government, they have been turned over to the Church, North, to aid in building for that body. I think the time will come when this matter will be looked into. There is yet another aspect of this part of our sub- ject. The Church, North, has appropriated funds for THE CHURCH, NORTH AND SOUTH. 511 Church-extension, and in some instances, I believe, the following course has been pursued: Preachers of that Church have sent agents through the country to look up old claims against Church-property, and no doubt often secured them at a heavy discount, and then brought suit, and obtained judgment and a decree to sell the property without the right of redemption; and the poor people worshiping in these churches, having been wasted by the war, found themselves unable to pay the amount of the judgment; and thus churches and school-buildings have passed into the hands of the Church, IsTorth, by a sham legal process. At other times a majority of the trustees of a church have gone over to the Church, North, and carried the church with them, when all know, who know anything about the law" of the Church, that a man has to be a member of the Church to make him eligible to the office of trustee, and when he ceases to be a member, his trust- eeship expires; so that a man cannot quit the Method- ist Episcopal Church, South, and still be a trustee. When a member leaves the Church he forfeits member- ship, trusteeship, and all right to control the property of the Church. And yet, after all, the Church, l^orth, holds the property of the Church, South; hut how, I will not say. But how do they hold on to the membership of the Church, South? And shall I tell it all? The preacher of the Church, North, announces that he has all the names of a certain society, and will consider them all members of the loyal Methodist Church unless there are some who wish to belong to the rebel Church — meaning the Church, South — stating at the same time that as a loyal man he will be compelled to make pub- lic the names of those who refuse to beloni"; to the 512 THE CHURCH, NORTH AND SOUTH. loyal Church; that if the country has enemies in our midst the people ought to know it, and that those who withdraw will do so at their ow^n risk; while there are, no doubt, "lewd fellows of the baser sort" in almost every neighborhood, who do not care for any Church, but, being cowards at heart, wish to establish their bravery, and they consider it a safe opportunity to fall upon some old preacher or Church -member whose prin- ciples and religion are against fighting. Such sur- roundings are calculated to make men and women who love 23eace and quiet hesitate, and wait until these dif- ficulties are taken away. The ministers of the Church, North, who are filling the work in the Holston Conference are not generally men of mark — quite a number of them were local preachers before the war, belonging to the Church, South; some of whom, as I understand, had been anx- ious for some time to go into the itinerant work, but from some cause the Holston Conference did not find it convenient to employ them; but so soon as the Church, North, took possession of the country, the door was open to all, with such a salary as would of itself be tempting to a poor man struggling with mis- fortune, and some are uncharitable enough to give it as their opinion that the salary was the main induce- ment. From the best view that I have been able to take of the whole subject, I am decidedly of the opinion that the Church, North, has made a mistake. She is wast- ing her missionary funds, without adding to the great Methodist family either members or piety; for almost the entire membership now claimed in East Tennessee, or within the bounds of the Holston Conference, were members of the Church, South, and would have con- THE CHURCH, NORTH AND SOUTH. 513 tinned so if they bad been let alone; and the conten- tion between the two Churches is taken hold of by the infidel world, and so used as to bring reproach on the cause of God and our common Methodism. If the Church, North, had used her treasure and labor in cul- tivating such fields as cannot be reached by the Church, South, the cause of God and the salvation of souls would have been the result; and I cannot but believe if the Missionary Board of the Church, North, fully under- stood the working of this measure, they would waste no more money in sending preachers down South to take, as by violence, the houses of worship and members of the Church, South. Let me say, that in my opinion there will be in the proceeding of the Church, North, in thus trying to cripple and break up the Church, South, nothing accumulating except disappointment, shame, and ultimate infamy; virtue, morality, and re- ligion will sustain loss and damage, and th^ Church, North, lose caste and character. The gospel is preached to but a small portion of the human race; and Jiere let me ask the ruling spirits of the Church, North, Why do you not turn your extra funds and labor to the waste places, of the earth, where a rich harvest of souls may be gathered in, God's name glorified, and Method- ism honored? The interest of the Church, South, is in the hearts of the Southern people, and the prosj^ects of the Church are this day more promising than ever before. She is being purified as by fire, and being made perfect through suffering. " Blessed are ye when men shall re- vile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely for my sake. Eejoice and be exceeding glad, for great is your reward in heaven." Seek peace, and pursue it. 514 THE CHURCH, NORTH AND SOUTH. The preachers of the Northern Church — at least, some of them — say that the Southern delegates in the Gen- eral Conference procured the division of the Church by false pretenses; that the ministry and membership of the Church, South, were never consulted in the matter. Now, that the reader may understand this subject in all its phases, we will state a few facts, after having shown clearly where the division was begun, and bj^ whom. The necessity was created by the violent and unlaw- ful action of the Northern preachers in the course taken by them in the case of Bishop Andrew; and the}^ then recommended division as the best that could be done, and satisfied the Southern delegates of their sin- cerity b}^ offering to divide fairly — to give to the South- ern Conferences all their property, in churches, par- sonages, and school-houses, and agreeing to pay to the South a pro rata of the property of the Chartered Fund and Book Concern, and fixed on a line of division be- tween the two coordinate branches of the Church, al- lowing the membership about said line to adhere North or South, as they might desire. Now, reader, do not forget that these measures were taken by the Northern majority, the South being in such a minority that they could do nothing of themselves. Now, turn your attention to the part that the South was to act under the Plan which the North made for the South. The Southern delegates were to go home and submit the Plan to the Southern Conferences, and if they should approve it, the Plan would be perfected. It was submitted to all the Southern Conferences, and was approved. Every Conference took action ; and of the thousands of traveling preachers in the South, there were but three who were present and voting who voted against the Plan ; and the membership, to a very large THE CHURCH, NORTH AND SOUTH. 515 extent, also took action, and with about the same una- nimity. So much, then, for the truthfulness of the state- ment we sometimes hear, that the Southern delegates in the General Conference of 1844 deceived their ISTorth- ern brethren, and pursued a course of conduct which the Church in the South never approved; nothing could be fiirther from the truth. The Church in the South approved the course pur- sued by their delegates, accepted the Plan of the GrQn- eral Conference, called a convention, and appointed delegates to meet in Louisville, in May, 1845. The convention met, organized the Southern Church, and appointed a General Conference to meet in Petersburg, Virginia, in May, 1846. Delegates were duly elected; the Conference met, and approved the Plan of the Gen- eral Conference and the action of the convention at Louisville; appointed Commissioners, who were au- thorized to settle with the Commissioners and Book Agents of the Church, North, the undivided interest in the Chartered Fund and Book Concern; and a Book Agent was also appointed, with authority to receive the portion due the South. Drs. Bascom, Latta, and myself, were appointed Commissioners, and Dr. John Early the Book Agent. A Fraternal Messenger was also appointed by the General Conference at Petersburg, in the person of Dr. Lovick Pierce, who was to attend the General Confer- ence of the Church, North, that was to meet in Pitts- burg, May, 1848; so that every thing that was required of the South by the Plan of Separation was done with precision, without haste, and without delay. The only thing we did that the Plan did not contemplate our doing was the appointing of a Fraternal Messenger. Dr. Lovick Pierce presented himself at Pittsburg on 516 THE CHURCH, NOKTH AND SOUTH. the meeting of the General Conference of the Church, North, charged with the friendly greeting of the Meth- odist Episcopal Church, South. I was there; I saw it all. Often, since, I could have wished that I had not been there, or that years would blot the fact from my memory; but it is as fresh on my mind as the transac- tions of yesterday; and similar sad feelings seem to come i^pon my heart now, which so deeply affected me when I saw the brotherly greetings and tokens of friendship, borne to them by the venerable man of God, contemptuously spurned and rejected. There are those of the Church, North, who contend that all the property of the Church, South, belongs to them, particularly that portion which was held by tho Church before the division. The ground of their claim is that a fixlse, unjust, and corrupt decision was given by the Supreme Court. The fact that the Church, South, brought suit against the Church, North, is generally known as an historical fact; but the circumstances that led the Church, South, to appeal to the courts of the country, I think, are not very well understood. That the reader may fully understand this subject, I will give a plain statement of the facts in the case. The Plan of Separation gave to the Church, South, her pro rata according to the number of preachers; and not- withstanding the Church, South, did precisely what the Plan of Separation required, and while the contract was plain and easily understood, yet the authorized agents of the Church, North, refused to pay over to the Church, South, her portion, and urged as a reason that the Restrictive Article was not removed. This was a matter over which the Church, South, had no control. The Southern Conferences voted en masse, or unani- THE CHURCH, NORTH AND SOUTH. 517 mously, for the change, while enough in the North voted against it to defeat it. The Church, South, con- tended, in the first place, that there was no necessity for the change in the article, as no new object of ap- propriation was created; and, in the next place, that the Church, North, should not take advantage of their own act to protect themselves from paying an honest debt. But notwithstanding the Agents and Commis- sioners refused to pay over, the Church, South, sup- posed that the General Conference of the Church, North, which Avas to meet in Ma}^, 1848, in Pittsburg, would put the matter right; so the Commissioners of the Church, South, with Bishop Soule, Dr. Lovick Pierce, and Dr. Lee, of Virginia, together with our Book Agent, attended the General Conference of the Church, North, with a view to bring the whole ques- tion before that body. But the General Conference of the Church, North, would not hear or would not notice us in any official way whatever; they would neither talk with us nor suffer us to talk with them on the sub- ject, and even shut us out from their pulpits; so that diplomacy was at an end. We had organized as a Church under the authority of the General Conference of 1844; we were, according to the Plan, a coordinate branch of the original Meth- odist Episcopal Church; we had our Discipline, organi- zation, and appointments as a Church, all completed, and were in working order, with Bishoj) Soule at our head. They did not invite us back; they would not so much as recognize our Fraternal Messenger; while the Church, North, held all the property of the Book Con- cern and Chartered Fund. Men of the world laughed at us, and said, "You have had a Yankee trick played off on you, on a large scale; you were the principal 518 THE CHURCH, NORTH AND SOUTH. contributors in building up the Book Concern and Chartered Fund, and now that these are paying institu- tions, they have persuaded you to set up for yourselves; then they created what they pretend is a difficulty in the way of paying to the Church, South, her portion; and, to make the matter sure, the Conference at Pitts- burg, in 1848, declared that the Conference of 1844 had no power to make the contract, or Plan of Separation." The condition of the Church, South, was a novel one: the Southern Conferences were off from the pay-roll, and the dividends were all going to the Church, I^orth, while the Southern Conferences had no dividends, no Book Concern or Chartered Fund, and no money to es- tablish any. To use the world's expression, we, down South, were left out in the cold. The Church, North, was in debt to us ; but it first refused to pay, then de- nied the binding obligations of the contract, and then fell out with us, and would have nothing to do with us, so that we were compelled to go to law. I believe that the members of the General Conference of 1844 acted, at the time they made out the Plan of Separation, in good faith; I think they then intended to do what they promised to do; yet I have been told that some of the members of the General Conference, who favored the measure and voted for it at the Gen- eral Conference, went home and voted and advised against it. A party was soon gotten up against the measure, and when the vote of the Annual Conferences failed by some eight or ten votes to remove the restric- tion, this party grew rapidly; so that by the time the Church, South, was in a condition to receive her por- tion, the pressure upon the Book Agent and the Com- missioners was so great that they refused to pa}^ over; and so matters remained till the meeting of the General manly's camp-meeting. 519 Conference of the Church, North, in 1848, at which time and place the Commissioners of the Church, South, had reason to believe that something would be done. Every thing was against us, except law and equity. They had possession of the property; suit must be brought within the limits of their Church. They had the money, and, as we supposed, the power to get up outside j)ressure; but notwithstanding all the odds against us, we appealed to the law, and gained our rights. Now, reader, would you not suppose that if the South had attempted any thing like fraud, double-dealing, or false pretense, some of their Book Agents, Commis- sioners, lawyers, or wiseacres would have detected us? No, it was nothing but j^lain, simple justice that car- ried the suit in favor of the South. I was told by one of the leading men of the Northern Church that the property we were contending for was ours of right, and that he hoped we w^ould get it in the end; but as he believed that we were going to appropriate it to an unholy purpose — the support of a slavery Church — he would have nothing to do with handing it over to us; but that if we should wrest it from them by the power of the law he would be glad of it. And yet, in defi- ance of law^ justice^ equity^ and the decision of the Su- preme Court of the United States, they still claim the property ! i869. Manly's Camp-meeting. Having been kindly invited to attend the camp-meet- ing at Manly's, on Saturday, accompanied by the Kev. W. D. F. Sawrie, who knows all about a camp-meeting, and is at home alike in the pulpit and the altar, I started 520 manly's camp-meeting. on the trip from ]S"a8hville. At two o'clock in the aft- ernoon we took our scats in the car, and soon heard the shout, "All aboard! " which closes half-finished con- versation, and brings on rapid shaking of hands be- tween parting friends. Away we were whirled toward the setting sun, till a little after ten o'clock at night, when the watchman cried out, "Paris!" and in a few moments we were in the hands of kind friends, who were waiting for our arrival, to conduct us to the resi- dence of our special friend, Col. Eay — the embodiment of hospitality — who, with his good lady, had waited beyond their usual hour of rest, that we might be re- freshed with a cup of hot coffee. Early next morning we found a hack in readiness to carry us to the camp-ground, and in little more than an hour the distance of eight miles had been overcome, and we were approaching the vicinity of the camp- ground. For the last few miles I had been much im- pressed with the scenes along the way, as we overtook men, women, and children, white and black, hastening like living streams toward one and the same point. All kinds of transportation had been employed — car- riages, hacks, buggies, carryalls, wagons, and carts, while many w^ere on horseback, and not a few on foot. Not a word was heard; but all were pressing onward to a common center, like the tribes of Israel going up to worship at the annual feast. The direction was made ,plain by the throng in advance of us, though the straw scattered along the way would have been a sufficient guide to a stranger. The first thing that attracted attention, upon our ar- rival, was the encampment of the colored people, situ- ated within one hundred yards of the encampment of the white people, with the services alreadj^ goi"g on, manly's camp-meeting. 521 although it was still early in the morning. I was pleased tolearn that the}^ have not been disturbed by divisions, nor misled by designing strangers, but are under the care of Brother Love, one of the Presiding Elders of the Memphis Colored Conference — an import- ant part of the work organized by Brother Taylor, in ])reparation for a distinct Church, in sympathy with the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. They had located their camp-ground close to that of the white people, that they might enjoy the protection and assistance of their old masters, and I was glad to find that they were receiving a full benefit. Just beyond, and a little higher up the hill, was to be seen the old, time-honored Manly's Camp-ground. How familiar the scene — the multitude of vehicles and horses that crowded the grove, the smoke struggling through the branches of the trees, the tents and cook- sheds, some new and others old, and the freshly-riven boards used for roofs! How familiar the song which fell on my ear! while at that moment the sun, which had been obscured for days, struggled through the clouds and threw broad and cheering rays upon the encampment, dissipating at once all fears of inclement weather. It was interesting to observe how perfectly the customs and habits of other days have been pre- served. The Presiding Elder and preacher in charge met me just as they used to do, and led the way at once to the preachers' tent — the meeting-house having been assigned for their accommodation. There were the beds along the wall, underlaid with straw, and there were the saddle-bags and valises, the overcoats, and books, and pipes! It was not long before the Presiding Elder — a grave and dignified man — looked at his watch, and said to 522 manly's camp-meeting. me, "I expect you to preach at the next hour." After awhile the trumpet blew the well-known signal for public service, and soon the great congregation, that had only partially dispersed, was closely packed under and around the shelter. When I inquired how the department of singing was sustained, I was told that all was right therein; that Brother Lilly, the prince of singers, was on hand, but that I must "line" the hymn. I looked over the vast assembly for familiar faces, and saw only two or three; however, the pres- ence of W. C. Johnson and S. P. Whitten made me feel at home. When the lines of the hymn had been read, a suitable tune was set, and the voices of the multi- tude, as the sound of many waters, rose and swelled upon the air and through the grove, so as to cheer the most drooping and sluggish spirit. During the rather long service the crowd pressed close and closer, and became so still and fixed that the congregation looked like a mighty tableau. When the hour for dinner came, there was, as at camp-meetings of old, the same long table, with the same long benches at its sides, and that wide-open in- vitation, as of yore, " Come and help yourselves! " The fare was abundant, substantial, good, and free. The order was excellent; there was no disturbing element of any kind to be seen. This was the first camp-ground established in the State west of the Tennessee Eiver, and for forty-jive years^ save two, the people of the neighborhood have here held camp-meetings, and one year two were held. It is estimated that not less than three thousand souls have here been converted to God, and of the number some twentj'-five or thirty have become ministers of Christ; so that i)rca(.'hcrs of the gospel have gone down manly's camp-meeting. 523 from this hill-side, like the prophets of old from the sides of Mount Ephraim; besides, much seed has been sown here, which has sprung up and brought forth fruit in other regions. I believe I may say that hun- dreds of true and foithful ministers of Christ, now in heaven, have here stood upon Zion's walls, and sounded the alarm, and called the wanderer back to God; and while such names as Joshua Boucher and John M. Hol- land pass through my mind, and I remember that here they preached, and prayed, and praised, and labored for the souls of men who nowfold their stainless robes about them, and stand near the eternal throne while they cry, "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty!" I feel that this is consecrated ground. From year to year, for forty years or more, the foot of Jacob's ladder has rested here, on which angels have descended and ascended, while hundreds who have passed beyond the vale, and now behold the King in his beauty, look back to this spot as the point where their feet first walked in the path which led them to glory. The first shelter built at this place has long since passed away. The leaden rain and iron hail of time beat it down, but it was soon replaced by another, and we are now worshijjing under the third or fourth structure. There are none of the original campers here now. They have, for the greater part, pitched their tents under the tree of life; but as one passes away another takes his place; and I am told that there are more campers this year than there have been for many years. AVhile the late terrible war raged around them, the good people of this neighborhood met from year to year, and held their camp-meeting, with the exception of one year; and the purpose to continue camping annually is stronger now than it was years 524 CAMP-MEETING AT CEDAR HILL. ago, and, from all I can sec, it will be a camp-ground fifty years to come. Why are there some twelve hun- dred members in this circuit? It is because they con- stantly draw from this great plant-bed. Would not camp-meetings be a blessing to other por- tions of the Church? Why should we give them up? Let us see if we cannot have at least one camp-meeting for each District next year. I think wc can; and for one, will work for it. It is a blessing to both preacher and people. I have been here but a little over twenty- four hours, and the old camp-meeting spirit is already upon me. There is a life and power in the sermons which I have heard that is truly refreshing. Give us more camp-meetings! Three days of the meeting are now passed, and great good has already been done, and there is the promise of the very best results. Camp-meeting at Cedar Hill. I REACHED the camp-ground on Friday evening, and found the camjoers all in position, and every thing looked like former days. The preachers were quar- tered in the church, which was close at hand. The shelter was complete, the seats all arranged, the altar fenced oif, and the straw was distributed; the smoke was rising from cooking-sheds, tables were stretched along behind the camps, and the trum2)et — by which the signal was given for service — hung beside the pul- pit; there were the Bible and hymn-book lying on the hand-board — every thing was in its place, which was evidence to me that, notwithstanding some twenty years and more have passed away since there was a CAMP-xMEETING AT CEDAR HILL. 525 camp-meeting in that section of the country, there were some persons yet living who knew how to pre- pare for such* meetings. The shelter and seats were an improvement upon the old style, the timbers being lighter, and the work was done in a more workman- like manner, which gave the whole arrangement an air of neatness and elegance. The shed would seat some three thousand persons, so it was said ; and some thirty or forty preachers could sit on the platform ele- vation of the pulpit, which formed three parts of a square, coming out even with the front of the pulpit. The preachers greatly admired this arrangement. From this elevation there were steps going down into the altar on both sides of the pulpit; and although this platform was in the rear of the main shed, yet it was under cover. Service was continued regularly at the hours of eight and eleven o'clock a.m., and three and seven o'clock p.m., and the trumpet never called the people together but there was evidence of good being- done. There were quite a number of ministers and pious laymen, who gave evidence that they came to do the work of the Lord. I never heard less idle talk and trifling conversation at any camp-meeting that I ever attended. There were six or seven regular camps; be- sides these, there were two cloth tents, and, in addition to these. Brother Cullom, the preacher in charge of Asbury Circuit, concluded that as a number of the people of his charge would likely attend the meeting, and that as none of his members wished to camp, he would have a camp himself; so a few days before the commencement of the meeting, he came up to Cedar Hill and obtained the use of an empty tobacco-ware- house, located some hundred steps from the camp- ground, and determined to move into it. The people 526 CAMP-MEETING AT CEDAR HILL. of his charge finding out what the preacher was going to do, sent in supplies in abundance, so that a large number of persons were accommodated m this tobacco- house. I had the pleasure of going up and holding family-prayer with them one morning, and found about fift}^ persons all seated, and quietly waiting for prayer. Brother Plummer, the preacher in charge of the Clarksville Station, obtained a large cloth tent, where he accommodated himself and others, notwithstanding the fact that the Church in Clarksville had a large and well-sustained tent. There was one other tent that de- serves notice above all tlie rest. It was improvised on Saturday of the meeting, and it would be difficult to tell of what it was composed. It was partly of wagon-wheels, rails, poles, boards, brush, blankets, and straw — and, under the hands of a youth about sixteen years old and two widow women, it rapidly put itself in shape; for I do not think it was more than one hour after I saw a two-horse wagon drive up which con- tained the bedding and supplies, before the tent was up, a fire was kindled, a cofi'ee-pot on it, and the table was being set for supper. The party consisted of a grandmother, daughter, • and several grandchildren. The old lady told me that she and her daughter could have come and staid with some of the campers, but that they could not think of imposing the children on anybody; and that her object was the conversion of her grandson. The last sight I had of the old lady, she was sitting just at the edge of the altar, with tears in her eyes, holding her grandson's hat while he had gone to the mourner's bench. Eeader, do you not think you could camp? Some talk of the expense of camj^ing, and some of the exjDosure, and yet persons go to wa- tering-places, and lodge in miserable huts, and feed on NORTH ALABAMA CONFERENCE. 527 scorched mutton and poor coffee, and play cards and dance till midnight; and pay for such privileges from three to five 'dollars per day. Now, if persons do all this for recreation, cannot Christian people go and camp at a camp-meeting for the good of souls and the glory of God? I left Cedar Hill Tuesday evening. Up to that time some thirty-five or forty persons had made a profes- sion; and as the interest was increasing every hour, I shall expect to hear a good account. I did not see a drunken man on the camp-ground, nor witness any act which I regarded as disorderly. There was, at eleven o'clock on Sunday, when some four thousand persons were emptied out of the cars at the same time, and more than half of them women, an ac- cumulated whisper, together with the motion of fans through the air, making a sound like a flock of birds, which prevented some from hearing; and the same was experienced at three, when the multitude were set- ting out for home. Let no extra trains run on Sunday hereafter. I saw nothing for sale, no trading going on. Every thing considered, it was the most orderly camp- meeting I ever attended, and the number of tenters will be greatly increased next year. 1873. North Alabama Conference. Having just returned from the session of the North Alabama Conference, let me give a brief sketch of what I saw and heard. My main object in visiting this Conference was to see my old friends and co-laborers of the Tennessee Conference who are now attached to the North Ala- 528 NORTH ALABAMA CONFERENCE. bama Conference in consequence of the division of the former, to meet and enjoy the fellowship of the preach- ers and people generally; and I must say that I am greatly pleased with the result. It will be remembered that this Conference is com- posed of portions of three Conferences. The fractional parts no doubt felt their isolation, before they came to- gether, like one who has just left his ancestral home and is going out to settle in a new country; but when the fractions — the different members of this new house- hold — came together, and began to bring in their wares and tricks — tlieir various articles for housekeeping — they found that they were not only well-to-do, as an Irishman would say, but were really rich in numbers, churches, preachers, and literary institutions, and all that pertains to the outfit of an Annual Conference; and all the different parts came together as by a nat- ural affinity, and fitted like the stones in the temple, being all squared and numbered, and coming at once to their proper places, with a sufficient amount of brotherly love to cement all together. They were so happy, and so well pleased with themselves and every- body else, that they even treated Doctor Summers and myself with great kindness and attention. I observed one fact with great interest, which was this: I found in the members of the Conference per- sons suited to all the particular departments of an An- nual Conference — as though they had been brought up and drilled in a school of instruction for that very pur- pose. There was Doctor Wilson, with his assistant secretaries, going on with that department of the bus- iness with all the ease and grace of persons who had always been engaged in that kind of work; and there were the chairmen of the various committees, bring- NORTH ALABAMA CONFERENCE. 529 ing in their reports in such perfect order and finish that one would be at once impressed with the idea that the}^ are the very men for the place; and when we came to the Mission Board, which was only two days old, the secretary brought in a report which would have done credit to a veteran in the business. When I saw every thing getting into position, and every man finding his place as by intuition, I could not but feel that the organization of this new Conference was in the order of the providence of God, and if its future should be equal to its present promise, great things may be expected of the North Alabama Conference. The appearance and ability of the members of the Conference impressed me very favorably: they are every way self-sustaining, and need not to draw on any other Conference for a supply in any department, and will, in my judgment, soon be able to give aid to weaker sisters. The citizens of Gadsden and the country round about took great interest in the business of the Conference, so that a large and fine church was crowded, and such was the spiritual status that souls were converted. The preaching was good, and the accommodations were fine. And here is an acknowledgment of obliga- tion to Brother and Sister Ramsey, who so handsomelj^ and kindly entertained the writer. Of the many good sermons that I heard, I shall men- tion but one — the sermon of Bishop Paine on vSunday morning more than sustained his great reputation as a preacher. It was powerful and glorious, and its influ- ence will be felt for many days. May his useful life long be preserved! The North Alabama Conference will be found among the foremost to sustain the regular institutions of the 530 NORTH ALABAMA CONFERENCE. Church, which were represented by Doctor Summers, who accompanied me. What a pity it is that the Doc- tor could not be spared to visit more of the Annual Conferences ! I find him an institution of great power, but his place in the Publishing House cannot be sup- plied. ^IsTECDOTES. Minor and the Hog. CAPTAIN MINOE, who is very well known to some of my readers, related to me the following cir- cumstance: "Once," said the Captain, "when I was commanding a barge, I left New Orleans with stores suflScient to last to Natchez, allowing the trip to be made in the ordi- nary time; but I encountered every kind of diflSculty ; several of my best men took sick, and I had to ad- vance against a strong head-wind a large portion of the time, and the consequence was that we ran short of supplies. "While in this condition we were lying to just above a large plantation of a noted wealthy Frenchman. At length a hog of good size and in fine condition came rooting around the bow of the boat, and as we were all hungry, and were not allowed to purchase any thing — for the boats from the Cumberhmd Eiver were all classed with the 'Kentuck' boats by the French — the temptation was more than we were able to bear, and one of the men took his rifle and shot it down, and brought it on board. "Soon after, the French gentleman, who lived some two or three hundred yards below, having heard the gun, and thinking, probably, that something was going (531) 532 MINOR AND THE HOG. on that ought to be looked after, was seen coining shuf- fling along up the bank toward the barge. "I saw at once," continued the Captain, "that we should have trouble unless the case was well managed; for we were at the mercy of the Frenchman, because he could call up a hundred negroes in five minutes, and such was the character of the weather that we did not dare to throw off our cable — the crew being evidently alarmed." Here let me say to the reader, who may not have had the acquaintance of Captain Minor, that he was a very large man, and, while he possessed a full share of good humor, he could, when he wished to do so, put on as much dignity and gravity as any person I have ever met with, and withal was a man of remarkable intel- lect. '"Now, my men,' said I, 'do as I tell you, and I will try and outwit this Frenchman ; but you must be quick. Take that long, broad plank that we use as a table, and lay it across the boat; be quick. Now take the hog, and put it on the plank; turn it on its belly; stretch out its hind legs as far as you can; now, take the cleanest sheet you can find, and spread it all over it. Now sit down, every one of you, and look as solemn as death.' "It was done. By this time the Frenchman was get- ting up in the neighborhood of the barge. I arose, with my hands behind me, as my custom was, and moved toward the bow of the boat with a grave, sad, gloomy countenance. Just as the Frenchman was about to come on board, I addressed him as follows, in the most subdued and solemn manner: 'Friend, I ought to ask you, before you come on board, whether or not you have ever had the small -pox.' Then turning and point- THE PINEY-WOODS BROKER. 533 ing to where the hog lay covered over with the sheet, I continued, mournfully, 'One of our poor fellows has just died with it, and as he was an old soldier, we have fired a single shot over him before committing his body to the wave.' '"What! you got de small-pocJcef By Gar, I no come dis nigh ! ' "Turning on his heel, he made his way home with double-quick, and no doubt passed a law of non -inter- course between his whole household and the infected barge. So the crew skinned, cooked, and ate with im- punity." The Piney-woods Broker. The piney-woods broker was a remarkable man in several respects. He kept his money for the use and benefit of the coal and tar burners. When any person wished to borrow, he never had any money; but he always had a little when a note was offered ; and it was a singular fiict that the amount of money he had on hand was always just half of what the note called for. Very sorry that he had no more; but if the holder of the note could do better with the money than with the note, he would take the note and run the risk; always some risk, and a man ought to be paid for taking risks; but, to accommodate the holder, he would take it, say- ing that money was at present very scarce, and almost any per cent, could be obtained for it that a man should ask ; but he would not think of cutting as deep as some people. This piney-woods broker was singular m another particular — he loved a dram ; but his money was al- ways so large that the doggery-man could not change 534 THE PINEY-WOODS BROKER. it, and it was one of the broker's principles not to go in debt for liquor. So others bought, and he drank. At length, one morning, a keen wag, who was one of the tar-burners, seemed to be in deep distress about a dream he had the night previous, and continued to refuse to tell it until the whole party became very anxious to hear it. He agreed to tell the dream on condition that the broker would treat the crowd. The broker resisted for awhile, until at length, becoming anxious to hear it himself, he complied. The w^ag said that in his dream he was in one of the roughest forests he had ever seen. The trees were crooked, as if they had been torn by the wind; the ground sounded hollow, and was all heaved up into hills as large as old-fashioned bake-ovens. He saw in the distance things like human beings, flitting about spirit-like, but it was so smoky that he could not tell what they were until he came near them, when he saw that they were men, but as black as ink, with the whitest eyes and teeth he ever saw. Lying about were boxes, some six feet long and two feet wide. They knocked off the top of one of the little hills, and such boiling and smoking as he then saw exceeded any thing of the kind he had ever witnessed ; it foamed like soap- suds. Two of those frightful-looking men then took up a large kettle, that had handles, and dipped it into the boiling mass, and poured the material into one of the boxes. Not long afterward, the principal man came up, and said, "I reckon that fellow is cool enough by this time;" and they turned over the box, and out came a man. The overseer glanced at him quickly, and ex- claimed, "There, now, you have ruined everything! that was dog-metal, but perhaps he will do for some purpose." They set him up against a tree, and I knew him instantly. It was the broker here; and the first THE GIN-HOUSE MAN. 535 thing he said was, "I have only money enough to pay you just one-half the price you have charged for mold- ing me." The Gin-house Man. I WENT to see an old gentleman once, and, unfortu- nately, asked him how he was. He told me that he was not at all well; and in order that I might know all about it, he proceeded to tell me the cause. He said he was a singular kind of man ; that he saw to every thing about the place, and that he went out some time pre- vious, to have his cotton-gin fixed up. "Now," said he, "I had the first cotton-gin that ever was put up in this country;" and then he told me who had the next one, and that his gin-house was put up after a certain fashion, and lasted until so many "gin-hoads," as he called them, had been worn out in it. He gave a full account of the different kinds of gins that he had tried, and a full history of a boy who had his fingers cut off in one of them, and the warning that he had from time to time given the ginner about the danger; but he would not mind him, and suffered the consequence. Then he told me a long story about a certain man who had circulated a falsehood about his taking toll, and why the man did it ; and he wrought himself into quite a rage over the injuries he had received from this per- son, some thirty years ago. But the old gin-house at last began to fall to pieces, and he took it down, and made as good a stable of the timbers as any one could wish to see, when another man would have thrown the logs away. He then went to work and built another gin-house, on an entirely different plan; and he was very particular in explaining the difference between 536 THE DUTCIIxMAN ADAM. the two houses; and then he begun to put gin-heads into it, and ran them through as many editions as pumpkins in new ground, until the sills in that house began to give way. He made new sills, and gave a minute description of them; and some time before (I iiave forgotten the number of days, though he called his old lady to prove that important point) he stood on the cold ground, showing the boys how to put in the sills, and caught a slight cold, which had given him a touch of rheumatism; but he knew how to cure that, and was beginning to tell how, when dinner was an- nounced, and cut him off. After dinner I got into such a hurry that I could not hear any more. I think I sat for two long hours, and allowed him to bore me, repl3nng, "To be sure! " "Is it possible?" when the whole story could have been con- densed into a few moments. The Dutchman Adam. Some years ago, when I was boarding in a hotel in Columbus, Ohio, the servant that had been at my back for weeks, during meals, w^as a Dutchman and a very attentive servant. At length one day I said to him, "My good fellow, you have been waiting on me now for several weeks, and I have not yet found out your name." He put his lips close to my ear, as though he were go- ing to tell me a great secret, and said, "My name ish Adam." Said I, "That is a beautiful name; it is the name the Lord gave to the first man he ever made." He seemed to be delighted that I should be acquainted with his people, and said, "Dat man was my farder's forder." A gentleman immediately to my left, who JIM AND HIS MASTER. 537 heard the conversation, became so much amused that he laughed at such a rate as to annoy his wife, who sat beside him, but did not hear the conversation. She shook him and punched him, and repeatedly asked him what was the matter with him. He attempted to tell her, but before she could understand him he became so overpowered with laughter as to burst out again. At length, when he was able to tell her what the Dutch- man said, she said she knew better — that the fellow had better sense than that. So when the Dutchman re- turned, I asked him, "Are you not mistaken about old Adam, the first man ever made, being your father's father? " ^^No,'' said he, "7 ish not mistake; my farder ish very old man; my farder' s fat'der ish very older man still; it ish my fardefs farder^ and you hear of him!'' And the lady also laughed so much that I think she could not swallow for fifteen minutes. Jim and his Master. An old Baptist preacher had a bo}^ named Jim, who was a Methodist preacher. The old master and Jim had a great many arguments on doctrinal points; and Jim, either because he was the ablest disputant or had the best side of the subject, generally vanquished his master. The old gentleman and Jim were in the habit of having their appointments on Sundays, the "old master" for his Baptist friends, and Jim for the Meth- odist negroes. On a certain Sunday, the old master, having been worried a little by Jim's arguments during the week, determined that Jim should go and hear him preach, instead of attending to his own appointments; for Jim had appointments for the day, as well as his 23* 538 JIM AND HIS MASTER. master. So they set out together; and Jim had to hear his old master three times, morning, afternoon, and night. The old man poured it down on Jim, like hot shot, and poor Jim had no chance to say a word in re- ply. The day's work was over at last, and the master and Jim were trudging home in the dark, both on foot, Jim walking close behind his master; for they were good friends, notwithstanding they had hard arguments sometimes. At length the old master said: "Jim, it is a singular fact that when I left home this morning I was very sick, and, although I have preached three times to-day, I now feel pretty well." "l!^o wonder dat you feel better," said Jim, "a'ter dischargin' so much trash from your stomach as you hab to-day!" FisHiisra. Fins and Scales — A Lecture. THE subject involves three points : Fish, Fishermen, and Fishing ; and I promise not to do either of two things — I shall not tell all I know about fishing, and I shall tell some things that I do not know about it. So you see I am not going to follow exactly the text fur- nished me. Fish is probably the largest portion of the supj)lies God has furnished for the subsistence of mankind. The amount of fish consumed by the human family exceeds the amount of all other supplies put together. With regard to the views taken by those who have written upon the subject of fishing, particularly upon the subject of angling, not one of them explains the best mode for that amusement in the great Valley of the Mississippi — I might say in the United States. These works arc written by Englishmen, and in Eng- land the fish are generally "surface" feeders, while in this country they are generally "bottom" feeders; and instructions for taking the one kind are of no service in angling for the other. In the next f)lace, those who have written upon the subject have mainly taken their fish from oceans and estuaries, and their instructions do not apply to fishing in Western waters. The cat-fish is uniformly repudiated, and uniformly (539) 540 FINS AND SCALES — A LECTURE. eaten. He is everywhere condemned, and always praised w^hen he comes to the table; he is found in nearly every stream, lake, pond, and river where fish are found; is not at all nice about what is set before him, but eats it and asks no questions; he bites freely and decidedly; pulls earnestly and with a purpose. There is a great mistake made by many with regard to this fish: they say, "Give me a cat weighing about three or four pounds, but when they get large they be- come tough." This is a mistake. The buffalo, drum, and a good many other semi-hard-mouth fish, become tough as they get old, but the cat does not — he is good at any size from one to one hundred and fifty pounds. The next most abundant fish with us is the buffalo. He has a heavy scale, and consequently can be pre- served a considerable length of time without becoming tainted. There is a secretion between this fish's scales and skin, which, unless it is removed, is sure to be dis- tributed through the flesh, causing it to become bitter. This fish is very abundant, particularly in the waters of the Mississippi and Alabama. It has long been a question whether the drum be- longs to the game or the soft-mouth fish. It is infe- rior. I believe the people up in Kentucky deceive folks b}^ calling this fish perch. Kext to the drum, in abundance, is probably the sucker tribe, consisting of the large white, and the blue, suckers; the yellow, and the red, horse. These are all of the same genus, and are a valuable fish, but are too bony to be eaten without great care. Among the game fish there is a great variety of sal- mon. We have the fresh-water salmon, which some- times weighs three or four pounds; but there is a difference between these and the pure eastern salmon FINS AND SCALES — A LECTURE. 541 in the waters of the Gulf. Among the fish belonging to the salmon tribe is the pike — a species of pickerel. They are fine swimmers, bold biters, fierce fighters, and hard to take; yet when taken, are exceedingly rich and valuable, both as a pan and boiling fish. We have a fish peculiar to our waters that we call the jack-fish. They are placed at the head of the list as game fish. I have seen them weighing as high as twenty-three pounds. They are very much the shaj^e of the salmon, but not as long, and their sides are a little drooping. How they came to this country we do not know; but they are rapidly increasing, while other fish are diminishing; the perch are disappearing, espe- cially in the Cumberland River; the trout, the drum, and the buffalo, are all in a great degree diminishing. The next fish in point of value is what is called the black trout. It inhabits, mainly, running streams as large as the Cumberland. They are exceedingly bold, and generally put the angler to his best to land them. They grow sometimes to eight or ten pounds. I never saw one weigh more than eleven and a half pounds. This fish is very valuable, and exceedingly desirable for table use. Next in order is what the boys call the pond trout. They grow very large, and the meat is exceedingly del- icate and fine. They die gently, and do not contend so long, or furnish such an amount of sport to the angler, as the pure black trout. Next is the buck trout, with what we call a silver color, which is generally found in small streams. Then comes the white perch, which I think is destined to become a very popular and numerous fish. Bishop Soule was a great fisherman. At one time Bishop Andrew was talking with him on the subject, 542 TREASURES OF BIG BOTTOM. and wanted to know why he was so fond of fishing, to which Bishop Soule replied that it was because of the excitement. "But," said Bishop Andrew, "sometimes you are not successful — do you find it exciting then?" "Of course I do," replied Bishop Soule. "Even when you do not get a bite?" "Yes." "Wh}^, what can there be so exciting about it then?" asked Bishop An- drew. "Why, sir, it's exciting because I'm expecting a bite every minute!" replied Bishop Soule. A fisherman's outfit costs from seventy-five cents up to seventy-five dollars. The best rod is an ordinary cane growing around upon the river-bottoms. It should be well seasoned, light, and nicely tapered. Joint rods are not to be compared with whole ones, be- ing far inferior. The best line you can get is known in France as "cable-line," made of silk. I would ad- vise you to get a snood; they cost about a cent apiece, and are generally about a foot in length. The best sinker you can have is an ordinary buck-shot, split in the center, the line put in the cut and the shot pressed together again to hold its place on the line. Never buy a float, but get an ordinary cork and trim it into suitable shape. If you use a reel (and I should advise you to use one), get the Meek-reel, which costs from twelve to twenty dollars; one will last you for years. E'ever go fishing with an unsharpened pole, for it is difficult to stick in the bank; and to keep a pole in your hands all the time, is very tiresome. Treasures of Big Bottom. We all went — F., and Gr., and L., and M., and W.; and besides these, were Kobin, the cook; and Ed., the TREASURES OF BIG BOTTOM. 543 assistant; and P. and H. followed and joined us a few days afterward. It was a beautiful Monday morning late in October, and all were at the depot of the ISTorth western Eail- road in good time. The outfit of an angling party, with a little dash of the hunter mixed in, is worthy of notice. The first concern was about the tent — is that in good condition and in place? next, the minnow-seines — they are both here, well rigged and ready for use. How many min- now-buckets have we in all? Fourteen, all sound, and with proper fastenings. Three sides of bacon, corn- meal, flour, salt, coffee, sugar, butter, cakes, bread, cooking utensils, ax, hatchet, nails, saw, rope, twine, red pepper, sauce, chow-chow, vinegar; no whisky, no brandy — not a drop of it! while our medicine-box con- tained but one box of Cook's pills. As to individual or personal outfits, no one man can furnish a full list. The Avading-boots, fish-buckets, rods, reels, shawls, blankets, guns, bird-bags, powder, shot, boxes and bundles, together with two dogs and their chains and collars; yet every man knew his own property, so that there was neither trouble nor confu- sion. And as our trij) was for ten days at least, and possibly longer, the outfit was rather extensive. For our Si:)ecial accommodation the general agent of the railroad had a passenger car attached to a freight train, with a letter of instruction to agents and con- ductors to let us off and take us on at our discretion (he ought to have had a fish); and the conductors were kind, gentlemanly, and accommodating, and in the name of the party I make this acknowledgment. In addition to what has already been mentioned, Ed., our assistant cook, had a gun — a primitive, single-bar- 544 TREASURES OF BIG BOTTOM. reled shot-gun, which M. contended was ii musket, but Ed. insisted that it was a shot-gun, and the contro- versy remains unsettled to this day. Ed. said that it mout have been a musket in the beginning, but had turned into a shot-gun. Whatever it was, or was in- tended for, there was one thing it would not do, and that was shoot Ed. was trying from time to time to make it go off, but fire it would not. Some one of the party took advantage of Ed.'s absence and put a match to it, and it banged away with commendable noisi- ness. This was unknown to Ed., and when we had left the cars and were on the wagons, wherever game was seen, Ed. w^ould be among the first of the hunters out, snapping away with terrible earnestness, not knowing that his gun was empty, and he spent no little time in trying to insert fresh powder at the touch- hole. I asked him, at length, what he thought was the matter with the gun; Ed. said that he believed she was choked. I told him he would have to strike her in the back, or give her snuff until she sneezed; but poor Ed. said she would not sneeze nor do any thing else. At length, from the mere force of habit, he blew into the muzzle, and to his great surprise he found his gun was empty; and being confident that he had put a load into her, and not knowing how it got out, he changed his views entirely, and said that the touch- hole was so large that the load all wasted out through it, or else he had shot it all away, just a little at a time, and did not know it. He loaded up again, but never got that load out until he laid her on a log and struck the hammer with a rock, when she fired with a venge- ance, jumping about one foot high and several feet backward, and turned over on her side, looking quite exhausted. But it was found that either from the TREASURES OF BIG BOTTOM. 545 effort to shoot or the bcjiting from the rock, the main- spring of the lock was broken. Ed. was now in deep distress, and asked M. — whom he knew to be a dealer in hardware — which would be the cheaper, to get the main -spring mended or buy a new one. G. told him that the whole establishment was not worth more than fifty cents; that it could only be sold as old iron, and l)oor iron at that. So much for Ed.'s outfit. But back to our narrative. At the blowing of the whistle at seven o'clock a.m. we were all in readiness, and off we Avent toward the setting sun. When about thirty miles from the city, two of the freight cars be- came contrary, threw themselves across the track, and had to be removed before we could go on again ; but the party took the delay easy — some hunted birds and squirrels, others grapes, and all took a hand in chang- ing freight, and in a few hours we were whirling on again at the rate of eighteen miles to the hour, reach- ing the point where we were to leave the cars a little after sunset. Mr. B., with whom we stopped, was looking for us, and received us with all the kindness of Abraham of old. Here we were handsomely enter- tained, and on the next morning men, seines, and buck- ets were all at the creek at an early hour, for here the minnows had to be caught. By eleven o'clock the buckets were filled, and having stored our baggage away in the wagons, and eaten an excellent dinner prepared by Mrs. B., we were soon under way to Big Bottom — and Big Bottom it is! The river-line of this bottom I suppose is twenty-five or thirty miles, while the back-line is about ten miles, being somewhat in the form of a crescent. The point selected for our camp was about midway the water-line, and within one mile of the mouth of Duck Kivcr. We reached the spot at 546 TREASURES OF BIG BOTTOM. about four o'clock p.m., all safe, nothing broken, and the minnows, generally alive, were soon enjoying a bath in the river. The tent was pitched, a fire built, and Robin went to work at his peculiar trade; while Gr. improvised a pretty good table out of such mate- rials as he could gather up. After supper we rigged a few lines and cast them into the stream, that we might have fish for breakfast; and soon W. — who is sure to catch a fish if there is one in the neighbor- hood — lands a gray cat-fish of about fifteen pounds weight, which was handed over to Robin, who knew how to make steak of it, and w^hen set before us brown and smoking, all prejudice against a cat-fish gave way, and we fared sumptuously. A farther notice of Big Bottom will likely be called for. Well, here it is. It is formed by Duck and Ten- nessee rivers on one side, and the ridges extending from Waverley and Johnsonville on the other. It is from twenty to thirty miles in length, and from two to five miles in width. It is overflowed by the waters of the Duck and the Tennessee rivers; so that when either of these streams is high, the whole of this country is under water, and no ^^erson can live in the Big Bottom at any point. Consequently, those who own or cultivate these lands all live back in the barrens, or hill country. The land is immensely rich, the trees sre thick and of tremendous growth, and the greater portion of them splendid timber. I was in one field of corn planted in July and never plowed after planting, and yet the crop seemed to be a good one; but being in danger of frost, the owner was gathering it to feed stock. There are a number of lakes in this bottom. We visited three of them — Clear Lake, Lake Design, and Cypress Lake, and fished in two of them. TREASURES OF BIG BOTTOM. 547 Of the three. Clear Lake is the most worthy of notice: it is about two miles from Duck Eiver and one mile from Tennessee River, and is the ancient bed of one or the other of these rivers, no one knows which. It is far away from human habitation, and is not honored with even a path leading to it; its length is about one mile, while tlie width is not more than one hundred 3'ards; it is surrounded b}^ old trees of the largest size. The depth of the water is about fourteen feet, with a firm bottom; its shores are free from undergrowth; the water is clear as crystal — clearer I never saw, un- less it w^as the waters of Lake Huron. This lake is a thing of perfect beauty; there it sleeps in the wildold forest, as calm as an infant. Its waters are not only clear, but sweet. A small stream flows from it, but none empty into it, which is evidence that it is sup- plied by springs. The waters of this lake, at the time I saw it, were some twenty-five feet above those of the Tennessee and Duck rivers. From the growth of the timber upon its shores, I should judge this lake to be very old. It is abundantly supplied with fish, mainly of the game species; but I saw some drum, buffalo, cat-fish, gar, or grindle^ and a few blood-suck- ers. The prevailing varieties, however, are pike, or pickerel, trout, and white and speckled perch ; and they seem to be without number. The people in the neigh- borhood all told us that the fish in Clear Lake would not bite. This I was slow to believe; and on trying, soon found that it was a mistake, but that they could not be taken from the main-land in consequence of the moss that lines the shore, and extends out some thirty feet into the water. I could get strikes, and hang the fish, but they would become entangled in the moss, so that I would not only lose the fish, but part of my lino 548 TREASURES OF BIG BOTTOM. also; 80 we had a boat transferred from Tennessee Eiver to the lake, which proved a success; and I have no doubt the fact that our party caught fish in this lake will be the cause of many persons spending much time and labor for naught; for with a boat, fish can only be taken by the very perfection of the angler's skill. The line must be delicate and invisible, and you must fish near the bottom, and that at a consider- able distance from the boat, preserving perfect still- ness; but with a suitable outfit and proper care and attention, the success will be surprising. G. and W. fished a few hours one day in the boat, and the result was forty game fish. Lake Design is smaller and not so deep, and, though a little dingy, can be fished from the shore successfully. We visited it one day, and caught a quantity of fine fish. When fishing in this lake we came together at noon for lunch; but before leaving, F. set out a hook near the lap of an old tree that had fallen into the lake; and while he was absent a monster fish took pos- session. When F. returned he tried to bring it out, but could not; the fish went where it pleased, only it was not able to part his line. At length it took refuge in a lot of brush, became sullen, and would not go out again to open sea. W. being on the same side of the lake with F., came to his assistance. F. said to him, "Here, take this pole, hold it hard, and I will go in after that fish!" and in he went, and down he went, and grappled the monster, but not being able to tell precisely where the fish lay, he unfortunately got his hand into its mouth, and finding that it was armed with terrible teeth, and disposed to use them, he changed the point of attack, and eventually brought the monster to land. G., who was on the opposite side TREASURES OF BIG BOTTOxM. 549 of the lake, said he thought F. had caught the daddy of the trout tribe. The fish weighed about fifteen pounds, and gave evidence of great strength. The trouble with F. and W. was to determine what kind of fish it was. They first came to the conclusion that it was a white cat-fish, but the scales and teeth offset that idea; they next judged it to be a lake jack-fish, but neither head nor tail would suit; they then settled down on the idea that it was a monster — a cross of the cat-fish, or jack, or pike, or gar. At length M. came along, and pronounced it a scaly cat, or grindle, and not good for food. Soon after, W. caught one of the same family. When we knocked off we had as many fish as we could carry, and left the monsters to fight it out with the raccoons. On reaching camp, Eobin lamented the loss of these fish; he said they Avere excellent eat- ing, and next morning employed a camp-pauper to go and bring them in; and was delighted to find them both alive. They are well supplied with fins, and, I should judge, good swimmers; and being armed with teeth, must be a terror to all small-fry. L. said he would pay the expense of a wood-cut representing W. holding the rod, and F. in the lake fighting the terri- ble monster, but we have not been able to supply it. Sunday was approaching, so on Saturday evening the fishing-tackle was all brought to camp, the guns laid aside, and the best preparation that our circumstances would permit made for a proper observance of that sacred day. G., W., M., and H., went into the neigh- borhood to church. W. opened the Sunday-school at nine o'clock a.m., and at eleven o'clock G-. preached to a very large, well-behaved, and devotional congrega- tion. The church is a large one for the country, well built, and finished in good taste. The singing was in- 550 TREASURES OP BIG BOTTOM. spiring, and the entire service, I trust, profitable. Immediately after the morning service was over, bas- kets of provisions were disj)layed in great profusion, and all were invited to lunch. At two o'clock G. ad- dressed the Sunday-school, which is very large and well conducted. It was a day of spiritual comfort to many. Any person going from Big Bottom to this church, and not knowing the facts as they are, will be taken by surprise. As soon as you have emerged from the deepest, darkest wilderness, you are in the pres- ence of a multitude of well-dressed, good-looking Christian people, with an imposing house of worship, with all the appointments of an old and wealthy country. But the reader will want to know how the party succeeded. I think I may say that, with the exception of the bird-shooting, it was a perfect success. The open or cultivated lands that were in reach of our camp were so loaded with vegetation as to put bird- shooting out of the question ; we could hear the whistle of the birds, but that was all. Big Bottom is supplied with all kinds of game common to this country, except the opossum — they are not to be found. Deer, turkeys, ducks, squirrels, and raccoons, are in abundance, and fish in all the waters, while the banks of Clear Lake are bored and perforated by the beaver. Some of our fish died on the string; some were de- voured by water animals or raccoons, several bark cat- fish chewed into their cables. We ate fish for ten days, and in this had some assistance from the neighbors; some spoiled because of the warmth of the weather; and yet we brought home from fifty to one hundred pounds of choice fish. As to the hunting, I think at least one hundred squirrels were killed, a few birds. ON BUFFALO CREEK. 551 and one raccoon. The largest cat-fish caught weighed about thirt}^ pounds; the largest jack-fish was thirty- nine inches in length, and twenty-two pounds in weight; the largest trout eight j^ounds. We caught cat, jack, pike, trout, drum, rock -bass, white perch, speckled joerch, grindle eels, and gars. We broke camp after breakfast, and took tea the same day with our friends at home. All well; no accident; no one got sick; no one got out of temper. Those who were complaining when we left returned well, all thank- ful to kind Providence for health, spirits, recreation, and renewed strength for future labor. On Buffalo Creek. The nights were dark, and all the signs were right, With reel and rod the angler's skill to try. And G. now eager and impatient grew; While deep-blue pools, with gently-sloping banks, Passed through his mind, enkindling strong desires. With Meek's best clicking reel and baited hook. To cast his line into some limpid stream; And others soon the inspiration caught. And F., and P., and M,, gave in their names As parties to the contemplated trip. Be ready! was the word, with all your tools — Buckets, with lines and seine, rods, reels, and hooks. We came together as the evening train Was starting on its nightly noisy tramp Unto the western home of closing day. But ere the night grew faint with hoary age, The whistle blew, the iron wheels stood still; And Waverley was now the watchman's cry ; When every man unto his baggage flew, And out went buckets, satchels, rods, and shawls. 552 ON BUFFALO CREEK. Together piled within friend Spicer's hall, To wait until another day's return. The morning dawned at last, both fresh and fair; And soon all hands were out, with wading-boots And minnow-seine, our buckets to supply With silver-sides and steel-backs of good size. Yet twelve miles distant lay our destined point; And transportation now must be procured. A wagon soon was found — such as it was — It had no bed save, where the bed should be. Some old loose planks, with others at the sides, While both the ends were out and open wide. Upon this floor our baggage was piled up, And each man in his place was stowed away. Our team was badly matched in age and size; But driver, team, and all were found good pluck. Just as the shades of night were drawing near, Before friend Foulkes's gate we called a halt, And soon a generous, kind reception met, And passed the night away in rest and sleep. Soon as the morning came the sport began. While shoals and shallows lay on either hand, Yet just in front were waters deep and wide, And under foot a gently-sloping bar; W^hile just across the stream, in bold relief, There stood a grand old bluff of ancient birth. Whose granite brow was in the misty cloud; There with uncovered breast alone it stood, Bathing its giant feet in the clear flood. And now with eager hands we went to work To see who first should cast a baited hook In the most favored spot — the eddy's eye. Our rods were metal-shod, with tapered points, And soon were set along the pebbly shore; But G. was ready first to cast his line; The rod was set, the pressure off the reel; Out flew the shining bait upon the stream. But soon it sank to sightless depths below% ON BUFFALO CREEK. 553 Where jack and trout had made a settlement. But ere the work of setting rods was done, The shout was heard, "G., Gr. ! your reel, your reel!" All must admit that music has its charms. Composed of mingled sounds that please the ear. And thrill along the nerves in such a way As best to wake emotions of pure joy. Talk as you may of the soft evening breeze That whispers through enchanted groves of love, Or the wild storm in yonder mountain-gorge. That rends the rocks till granite showers fall; Then listen to old ocean's frightful roar Amid the storm along the rock-bound coast. Or the deep moan of midnight's sighing winds Mid solemn forests of old stately pines; Then walk through shady groves of trees and shrubs, Where busy bees drink nectar from each bloom, And butterflies are waltzing to their hum; Then turn and listen to the reaper's song, When from his toil at evening he returns, AVhile parent birds are calling home their young. Now from the fields of nature turn away: Go to that dark and ancient Gothic pile, And grope your way along its dusty aisles, Pull off your hat, and open wide your ears. And listen to the deep-toned organ's wail, While to its notes all things in cadence move. And human voices mingle in the sound; And when the day is past, with all its cares, Then hearken to the minstrel's evening hymn, When viol and lute, uniting with the voice. Make melody complete, and cheer the heart; But yet there is a sound surpassing all, Which thou hast yet to hear to feel the power — It is the clicking of the angler's reel. When trout or jack doth draw the silken cord. G., as you might suppose, was at his post. Guarding his line that it might easy flow. 24 554 ON BUFFALO CREEK. "It's had it long enough, I think," said one, "It is a jack," said G. ; "it must have time; I want to make sure work, and land it safe; But now I '11 strike," he said; and strike he did, And caught it, too — a noble fish it was, " He 's got him ! " was the shout ; " do n't let him go ! Hold it ! hold it ! see how it bends the pole ! " " Just bring it here," said F,, "I '11 land it safe." G. reeled it up at last within full view, And with pure angling skill F. brought it to. It was a jack, full thirty inches long, With shining rows of pure, white glistening teeth, And brilliant eyes and scales like polished gold. "Well, that was grand," said P., "and no mistake." After this feat the sport more general grew; Fish after fish was safely brought to land, And strung and moored along the shady shore. But M, struck oft, and failed to hook his fish ; When G,, the senior Walton of the crowd, To try his luck, resolved on M.'s relief. With rod in hand he quickly turned the reel; "I'll tempt that jack to bite, without a doubt. And let you see what skill and art can do; It will not take the bait, I fear," said he; " But jacks must have their time; so I will wait." At length it bit again, and took off line. " It 's had it long enough, 1 tliink," said G. ; " I '11 strike it now." He struck, and hung it fast, And reeled it up, and high above the stream, Suspended in the air, was to be seen A water-dog about ten inches long. " Well, that was done in first-rate style," said M. ; " Huzza for G., I say, and science, too ! " "And now," said P., "I'll try the other side," To the canoe he went, and paddled o'er, And when about to step upon the bank. The light boat gave a lurch, and in he went, And downward sank unto the bottom soft; ON BUFFALO CREEK. 555 But with a bound that made the water boil, And quick as thought, he was upon the land. F. had his troubles, too; in throwing out He would a circle make, and throw too high, And hang his line upon the limbs of trees. " I 'm in a fix," said he ; " I 've hung my line Across the stream ; my hook is in the brink, While I am here, and something at my hook." •* Why do n't you jerk ? " said Gr. " For what ? " said F. ; " There is no use ; can I jerk down a tree ? " The day was now far spent; the sport was fine; Our plans for next day's work were quickly made. The second day was spent much as the first, And at its close we made our plans to move Some two miles lower down the lake to try. Let Fancy go to work, and do its best To form a spot to fill the angler's eye; Make bluffs and bars, with blue deep holes to suit ; Add shoals and rocks ; put every thing in shape, Just as you like, with all the parts complete — And yet this spot will far surpass it all ; In length, and breadth, and depth, it was all right. The shore was dry, the bottom free from snags. Our rods were set, our lines were soon cast out. The reels began to whiz, the poles to bend. And more than one were quickly snatched away By master fish, and were by boat pursued; But night was coming on — and who could quit ? Friend Foulkes his wagon sent a sheet to bring. And soon it came, and rose into a tent. And with it skillet, salt, and frying-pan. And coffee-pot, and good old bacon-side ; And now, with savory jack and trout well fried, We had a feast such as a king might like. M. thought to rest his hook and air himself; He'd take his gun and try the squirrels now. On his return, when he made his report. We found, in less than one short, fleeting day, 556 ON BUFFALO CREEK. Some thirty squirrels added to our store. Sport had to end, for next day was our last; A full supply of game was gathered up — Yes, more than we could wish or carry home; And yet we could not leave for one day more. It was the holy Sabbath of the Lord ; With garments brushed, and person clean and neat, We walked together to the house of prayer. The room was filled, the worshipers sincere, The songs devotional, the sermon good, 'Twas said, while tears of holy joy were seen; It was a holy Sabbath-day well spent. Next day we left for home, all in good health, Delighted with our trip and friends we met. And left behind, not soon to be forgot. In weather, comfort, health, and sport, our trip Was a success in all those words import. And should we live until another year. And Providence permit, we'll go again. Let those who wish to try their luck, And know not where to go. Waste not their time at other streams. But go to Buffalo. 1867. ]VIISCELL^]SrY. Family Government. THERE is no doubt that such a thing as family gov- ernment exists, but what it is, and how constituted, is not so easily determined; yet we hear of family gov- ernment every day; Ave have always been connected with it, but I am at a loss to describe it. There is no written code of laws laid down, and no set time when laws and rules are made. It is not a republican form of government; it is not a monarchy, for there is usually a complicated head to this kind of government. The generally received opinion is that the parents are the governors, and the children are the governed. There is one remarkable feature in this government, which is this: the same party make the laws, sit as judge, act as jurors, and then administer or execute; so that one might suppose they would have things their own way. It is not to be wondered at if we should find a great want of uniformity on the one hand, and great inconsistencies on the other; and while it is not our intention, at present, to examine the wrongs and errors which characterize this government as it often exists, yet a few of the defects thereof may be men- tioned with propriety. It is sometimes all law, and neither administration nor penalty; at other times there seems to be penalty (557) 558 PAMir.Y GOVERNMENT. without the command or mandate. Sometimes great offenses are overlooked, while at other times very small offenses are severely punished. We think it probable that, in the main, there are too many laws passed, and, when enacted, not well defined. Wherever this is the case there will be trouble, and not a little of it, unless the parents should permit the subjects to violate their laws wnth impunity; in such case the government re- solves itself into anarchy, and becomes as no govern- ment at all. At one time we find the governor of the family exceedingly rigid, at another time very careless and indifferent. Some insist on the necessity of corpo- real punishment, and the whole penal code finds its answer in a beech -rod ; others ignore corporeal punish- ment, and do all by a kind of moral lecture, which is generally called scolding; others purchase obedience by promises of presents, or by favors promised or im- mediately bestowed. All pass laws, we will admit. One procures obedience by whipping the child; an- other gives it candy, or a toy, or a book to tear in pieces; another always makes a mere external term of the present, with a promise of full trial and punish- ment at the next term, and the consequence is that some live as under the control of a fickle and bloody tyrant; others learn to behave badly, that they may receive some nice thing to induce them to desist from their evil practices for the time, while others learn to treat the law and the government with contempt. In other cases the united head divides, and the child takes protection under the lenient party. I should say, Let the laws be few, well defined, and faithfully executed, always having in view the good of the governed. Do not suffer yourself to be provoked into a promise, either of punishment or indulgence, SUPERSTITION. 559 which you do not think right in itself, or you will find yourself under the necessity of punishing unjustly, or granting indulgences which may not be for the good of the child, or of appearing inconsistent, and subject to the charge of falling short in your promise. Superstition. The fact that more or less superstition is found in all countries and among all kinds of people is evidence at once that there is in human nature a strong tend- ency to that condition of mind; and it is not true that it is confined to the most ignorant claeses. Heathen mythology and the legends of the Middle Ages abun- dantly establish the fixct that men of education and in- tellect are to be numbered with the superstitious. The only remedy is found in the revelation which God has made of himself and the relation that he sustains to all inferior beings. Wherever the word of God is not in the hands of the people, you may expect to find the greatest evidence of the existence of superstition. It is perfectly natural to man, when he sees or hears any thing that is not within the range of his knowl- edge or experience, to attribute it to some supernatural agency; and this of itself would lead the mind to the conclusion that there are beings so constituted as to be able to confer with those who belong to the future state, and also address themselves to the senses of mankind. The general impression with regard to such beings is that they are able to make themselves visible or invis- ible at will; that man cannot contend against them with such weapons as are generally employed in earthly wars; that they are not governed by any known law, 660 SUPERSTITION. and especially are not subject to the laws of nature; they are generally regarded as possessing great wis- dom and a mysterious power; some of them are good, others bad; and yet the best of them are dreaded by the superstitious. There is yet another variety of this same thing. An effect is seen and felt by some poor mortal, yet no well- defined cause, or agent, of any kind is understood or perceived. The best explanation of this peculiar cast of superstition that I am able to give is that there are certain laws which operate on man, producing a well- defined result, Avhile the law itself remains hidden in mystery. Simply the thing is done, and no one knows how or by whom. This peculiar kind of superstition is found in our own country, and I am not sure that I myself am free from it. It is one thing to condemn it and s^Dcak lightly of it in others, but it is quite another thing to eradicate it from our own minds. There are certain places and times of the day in which it is be- lieved that these generally invisible beings may be seen. They never reveal themselves in the light of day — at least, that is not the time when the}^ are looked for — neither do we think of finding them in an open, smooth country; but we expect them to appear at night, and we look for them about old waste houses, that are re- ported to be haunted. The fact is, no one likes to wan- der through an old, deserted house at the gloomy hour of midnight. Just ask yourself how you would like to enter in at that old, open door, when the dim light of the feeble stars brings to view only some of the boldest outlines of the interior, and grope your way from door to door, and from room to room, and then climb the crumbling, creaking stair-way, all alone; and suppose the house was said to be haunted ! But you say you SUPERSTITION. 561 do not believe there are amy haunted places. No mat- ter — we only say it is the popular belief that there are. How would you like it, reader? I, for one, have no fancy for such explorations. Then there is another place — the spot where some person was murdered. The rejDort has gone out that the bloody stains could not be washed away by the rain, and that the murderer was detected by a man being taken up on suspicion, and they brought him to the murdered man, and made him touch the corpse, and the wounds instantly com- menced bleeding, and that horses tremble with fright when they pass the place at night, and that strange sights and sounds have been seen and heard there. And then that old grave-yard! If there was another road just as near, and it was night, and you alone, do you not think you would prefer to travel that way? Spirit-rapping, fortune-telling, and other similar delu- sions, are all maintained by superstition; and then there are conditions in life that are thought to be in sympathy with mysterious agencies — such as hermits, old women who live alone and have a great many cats about the house, and a dog that howls every night. There are also certain circumstances which attend the birth of children, that are supposed to endow them with a capacity of seeing spirits; and the seventh son has a mystic power over diseases, and can cure various ills by means unknown to other people. And now, to the other department of superstition. Do you think Friday a bad day on which to move or commence a journey? Do you find yourself trying to see the new moon without the intervention of green trees? Do you make a cross-mark in the road, and spit in it, when you forget something and have to turn back? Do you think that meat diminishes in boiling if 562 BISHOP SOULE. killed in the decrease of the moon? Do you think that you will lose a friend because you dreamed that one of your teeth dropped out? Did you ever send to a faith- doctor, or bloody a nail against the gums of your teeth and drive it into a tree to cure the toothache? Did you ever measure yourself against the wall and make a mark, that you might outgrow the phthisis? Did you ever think a child was not long for this world just because it said some smart thing when it was quite small? Do you not sow your turnips in the dark of the moon? Do you believe in presentiments — that misfortunes cast their shadows before them? Bishop Soule.* My good opinion of Bishop Soule was bespoken be- fore I had the pleasure of his acquaintance. In my early ministry, when I was quite a youth, I was se- lected by Bishop McKendree as his traveling-compan- ion, and was taken into the confidence of that great man of God. He loved me as a son, and I esteemed him as a father. I heard him speak so often of Joshua — as he always called Bishop Soule — in terms so exalted and complimentary, both with respect to his intellect and purity of heart and purpose, that I was prepared to find in Bishop Soule all the elements of a great and good man ; and I must confess that my enlarged expec- tations were more than realized. The greater portion of such great men, in order to be seen to advantage, have to be viewed from a selected stand-point, and under favorable lights; but it was not so with our be- loved Bishop. It mattered not where the beholder "•••An address before the Baltimore Conference, 1867. BISHOP SOULE. - 563 stood, or how the light fell upon him, he was always seen to advantage. As a man, he was highly endowed — nature was choice in her bestowments. If he had been proportionately reduced in his gifts and appoint- ments to the capacity of an inferior creature, he would have been acknowledged by all animated nature a lion ; and it has more than once occurred to me, that if I had gone with some erratic being, an inhabitant of some other planet, who had visited our earth to see what manner of beings were to be found here below, and wished to find a specimen of the highest type, I should have pointed out to him Bishop Soule as the being he was seeking. He was an honor to our race, and made a near approach to the perfection of humanity in the entireness of human nature — such was his personal ap- pearance, that in walking the streets of New Orleans the Frenchmen along the pavements would shrug their shoulders and exclaim, "?7?i grand gentillwmme;'' and when walking through an Indian camp, these sons of the forest would say of him, '■'■Estahastted skigustustio!^^ — what a great chief! In passing through the streets of London, crowds have followed to look at him, believing that he was Lord Wellington, who was regarded as the best sj^ecimen of humanity in Great Britain. I say this much with respect to the person of our Bishop, because many now before me never enjoyed the privi- lege of seeing him. It sometimes happens that the intellect of men dis- appoints expectations created by their personal aj^pear- ance; but it was not so with Bishop Soule; intellectu- ally he was all, and more than, his appearance indicated, and it was difficult to determine what division of his mental powers most to admire. His perception, his powers of analysis, his sound judgment and good taste. 564 BISHOP SOULE. all stood forth in bold relief. If he had connected himself with a school of philosophers, he would have been the president; if he had chosen the legal profes- sion, he would have been the chief-justice; had he sought fame as a soldier, the highest position as a leader would have been accorded him by his comrades- in-arms; and had he turned his attention to finance, he would have been secretary of the nation's excheq- uer. He was never small, never trifling, never com- mon. In the highest sense of the term, he was an original thinker; in shaping his course or laying his phms, he never looked for blazes or human tracks; with him the right wa}^ was always the best — hard or easy did not enter into the estimate with him — no matter what difficullies might present themselves, he always took the right wiij. In regard to his moral and religious character and early connection with the Methodist Church, he was guided alone by a conviction of right; it was not the result of nursery-training or the dictation of his par- ents, nor of scholastic influence; so far from it that his choice was opposed b}^ his father, and greatl}^ affected his mother; he was a Methodist from principle. He w^as thought to be slow sometimes in coming to his conclusions; but he always made up his mind from his own convictions, and when his mind was made up he was as firm as a rock; and you will permit me here to observe that the views and opinions which led him to make up his mind as he did in the division of the Church, in 1844, were never changed or departed from even to a hair's breadth. He was also a progressive man — always falling in with such changes in the Church as were indicated by the advancements of so- ciety and changed condition of the country; and as he BISHOP SOULE. 565 grew old, he took on none of the acerbity which is too common to old age, but his whole nature seemed to be- come more sweet and holy. It was really refreshing to see how he carried the infirmities of age — instead of their operating upon him as a disadvantage, he w^oro them as ornaments. But you are particularly interested in hearing some- thing with resj^ect to his last hours. On the eve of leaving my home for this city, having understood that he was very ill, I hastened to his bed-side, and had probably the last connected conversation with him that he held with any person. On reaching his house, the brother who was attending upon him told him that I was there and wished to see him; to which he replied by saying, "Come in." I entered the room, took him by the hand, and said, " I am sorry to find you in bed. Bishop." To which he answered by saying, "Yes, I am in bed, and of my own accord will rise up no more." After conversing Avith him a few moments with respect to the nature and character of his attack, he said, "I shall die, there is no doubt of it; it is impossible for me to get up again." I at length said to him: "I am on my waj'' to Baltimore, where I shall see several of your colleagues, and quite a number of preachers, as well as other persons, and all will be anxious to hear from you." He lay silent for a few moments, then, lay- ing his hand upon his breast, said, " Tell them all for me that notwithstanding this heart and flesh are fail- ing, my hope and my faith are as firm as the rock of ages." He farther told me that there was one hymn which he thought he might with propriety a2:)propriate to himself; and on inquiring what hymn it was, he re- plied by reciting the hymn beginning with this line — Servant of Gorl, well clone! 566 BISHOP souLE. and never have I heard any lines of human composi- tion enunciated with so much power as in his render- ing of the first half-stanza, which is as follows: Servant of God, well done! Kest from thy loved employ ; The battle fought, the vict'ry won, Enter thy Master's joy. In repeating the last line, "Enter thy Master's joy," he reached forth his hand toward heaven, his whole face flamed with joy, while tears poured from his eyes, and for a moment laid upon his checks. I did not see the angel-hand that dried them away; but those were his last tears — he will weep no more. In the course of conversation, reference was made to the length of time he had been serving God and the Church; in reply to which he said: "A servant is one who obeys his master, and I have been endeavoring for manj^ years to obey my Heavenly Master; and sometimes the service as rendered by myself seemed pretty hard, but no matter, I have made it the business of ray life to obey; but my day of service is nearly closed. There is one command which I have not yet obeyed, for the reason that it has not been given." "What command is that? "asked a brother. "It is this," said the Bishop, "'Come up higher.' I am waiting for that command; it will soon be given, and I shall obey it." The command did come, and the Bishop has gone up, and if there are any such things as heavenly ush- ers. I should think that he was introduced by Bishop McKendree; and I have imagined that I saw him placing the crown upon the head of his beloved Joshua, as he always called him. Your names, my beloved fathers and brethren, were deeply and tenderly engraven upon his great, loving THE PULPIT. 567 heart; and O how glorious the hour when he shall be united again with his colleagues and brethren whom he so much loved ! The Pulpit. I HAVE seen several articles lately on the subject of the power and efficiency of the pulpit. Several writers have asserted that the pulpit has lost its power to some extent. It is not the object of this article to raise the question of correctness with regard to the contents of said articles, but to present some views from a different stand-point. I have for years held the opinion that the pulpit was in danger of a loss of power from a cause or causes not taken into account by any writer whose productions I have read. One cause of the decline of pulpit-power has arisen from a clamor, on the part of Church -going people, for short sermons. This demand has been yielded to by the ministry to an extent which has, in many congre- gations, so lessened the efficiency of the pulpit as to render it almost powerless for good. No great gospel truth can be presented, elaborated, and enforced in fifteen or twenty minutes; and just as soon as there is a conflict between the "service" and tUe sermon, and the rights of the latter are intrenched upon by the former, the aggressive element will suffer damage, and, soon or late, the Church will become formal, and ultimately decline; and when other agen- cies shall be substituted in the place of the pulpit, a departure will be taken from the plan adopted by the great Head of the Church for subduing and Christian- izing the w^orld. An increased interest may be taken 568 THE PULPIT. in those means and agencies by which the Church is to be built up and the cause of God promoted among men — such as Sunday-schools, prayer-meetings, expe- rience-meetings, religious books and periodicals, all of which are very valuable in their place — but to substi- tute these for the preaching of the gospel will defeat the great object contemplated. It is by preaching the gospel that the powers of darkness are to be driven back; by preaching Christ and him crucified the bat- teries of sin and unbelief are to be silenced, and the strongholds of infidelity are to be carried; for by preaching the Church becomes aggressive and drives back the enemy, and opens the way for other agencies. [t will not do to say that the preacher by a lecture of tiftcen minutes once a week shall achieve the great work which is to be accomplished by the pulpit. To limit the preacher to any particular number of minutes is not to be allowed. The preacher should have an ob- ject to accomplish in every sermon, and he, and he alone, can determine when that object is accomplished. I should much rather see the pulpit relieved hy the laity of all other work or employment. Let the sing- ing, the public prayer, and all matters that pertain to finance, be taken in hand by others, and let the preacher do nothing but preach and attend to necessary j^astoral work. To this end let him turn all his thoughts, all his time, all his strength; let him be handed from pul- pit to pulpit, with the everlasting gospel to preach; let every other duty and obligation be taken from him, and let him be a man of one work; let him go, and as he goes preach; let him preach Christ and him crucified. Then the pulpit will become a power, and the preacher a messenger sent from God, not to serve tables, not to take charge of temporal things, not to settle abstract THE PULPIT. 569 and difficult questions in science, not to discuss the politics of the day; but let him be a man of one work, and let that work be the jDreaching of the gospel. A preacher of a partial consecration will never accom- plish the full work of a gospel preacher. It is a work which requires all the powers of mind and body, and when given up wholly to this work, he may still say, "Who is sufficient for these things?" Now, these -may be regarded by some as extreme views, but let the reader stop and think of the charac- ter of the work to be done, and then ask himself the question. What time will the minister of Christ have to apj^ropriate to any other work? One other difficulty which greatly diminishes the effi- ciency of the pulpit at the present day is that a very large amount of what a great many of the j^reachers of late years have to say is not heard by the congrega- tion. Much of the introductory service is not heard; the number of the hymn, the lessons, the iirst part of the prayer, do not reach the ear of the congregation. The voice of the preacher is keyed too low, while much that is said is but a little above a whisper, and then there is a struggle to hear the text. But the difficulty in hearing is not altogether in the lowness of the voice of the preacher; it often happens that while a part of a sentence is a mere whisper, another part is a scream. The words are thrown from the lips of the preacher like an explosion ; the sound rings in your ears so as to almost deafen you, but the word spoken is not heard. No long word can be clearly spoken in a scream. If preachers wish to be understood, they must cease whis- pering and screaming, and talk as God has intended and as nature directs. Artistic speaking cannot he heard. Another difficulty is that many words are loaded 570 OLD BENHADAD. down with emphasis till they are lost, and the sense is destroyed. Learn to talk loud and plain, and do not sink down into a graceful whisper, nor raise your voice until a blood-vessel is in danger; speak in a natural tone of voice, never allowing it to flill below that key, and so distinctly that every person in your audience may easily hear you. Do not try to say too many words in one breath ; keep your lungs full. Eemember that if a word is worth being spoken at all, it is worth being spoken so as to be heard. By following this plan you will be listened to with attention, your throat will not be lacerated, nor your life prematurely worn out. I merely throw out these hints because of the many complaints made by Church-goers that they cannot hear the preacher. Old Benhadad. There are a number of Church -loafers, who think that because they belong to the Church it must take care of them while they live in idleness; and I have sometimes met with camp-meeting loafers. I distinctly remember one of the latter class, with whom I was quite well acquainted when I was but a boy. What his name was I never knew; the boys called him Old Benhadad; I think I heard him say once, about the close of the camp-meeting season, that he had been at fourteen that summer and autumn. He was not a preacher, nor ex- horter, nor class-leader; neither did he pray in public, and could not sing at all. He was a singular-looking creature: low in stature, and inclined to obesity; his head was as round as an apple, and perfectly bald; his right eye was much larger than the left, which raised the eyebrow on that side out of line with the other, OLD BENHADAD. 571 while the eye itself seemed to have wandered off to the right, as if it had quarreled with its comrade, and had resolved to have nothing more to do with it. His cos- tume was peculiar. At that time the round-breasted coat, with other garments to match, was the prevailing fashion ; but Old Benhadad never had a complete ward- robe, his clothing having been acquired piece by piece, as he found persons who were so benevolent as to give him half-worn articles of apparel. His coat was in the proper style — a full, round breast, long in the waist, the tails reaching down to the calves of his legs. His vest was entirely inconsistent with his coat; it was a spotted velvet, double-breasted, rolling collar, with round, bright-looking buttons, fastened on with rings through the loops. His pantaloons did not approach a fit, having been originally intended for some person who was tall and slender; and Old Benhadad being fashioned with the contour of a demijohn, the panta- loons were remarkably tight around the waist and the subjacent regions, while they were gathered in many folds about his feet. He had little to say to any person, but was rarely absent from two places — the camp at meal-time, and the stand when service commenced. As he could not assist in either preaching, praying, or sing- ing, and thinking that he ought to do something to heljo the meeting along, he would at intervals make a spring, jump as high as he could, throw up his arms, and utter one loud scream, like that of a wild Indian, and gradually modulate his voice with the words, "O Lord, revive thy work from the ends of the rivers to the ends of the yeath ! " and then resume his seat. This he generally did at the most tranquil moments, as he knew that he could not attract much attention while other people were engaged in active exercises. He en- 572 OLD BENHADAD. deiivored to do as much business as he could on a small capital. I shall never forget one of his jumps. He was at- tending a camp-meeting held by the Rev. Mr. M., in ]^orth Alabama. Mr. M. was a superior preacher, and particularly gifted in superintending a camp-meeting. In order that one point in this story may be under- stood, it will be necessary to make a brief digression. In those days camp-meetings suffered great annoyance from persons who came to them for the purpose of barter and trade in such commodities as apples, cider, melons, cakes, and whisky. As usual, the last article caused the greatest trouble; and as it was carefully concealed from persons in authority, the Rev. Mr. M. often said that he did not know how it was that an apple-and-cider cart always bred whisky. So he de- termined to keep all the traders away; but at this meeting a Dutchman came to him, and asked for per- mission to sell mead. Mr. M. thought he said meat, and so he did; but he intended to say mead, and no doubt thought he had said it as plainly as anybody could say it. Mr. M. gave him permission, thinking that he was a butcher, and that the campers might wish to purchase fresh meat from him. The apple-and-cider boys seeing the Dutchman put up his mead establish- ment, thought the prohibitory laws had been repealed, and they all commenced business. Mr. M. had no little trouble to have them removed ; so that apples had made a strong impression on his mind. Now, let us return to our subject. It was Monday night, and the sacrament of the Lord's Supper was about to be administered. The course of procedure adopted by Mr. M. was first to read his hymn, then de- liver an appropriate address, then sing, and then conse- OLD BENHADAD. 573 crate the elements. He had upon the hand-board a pitcher of water, a glass, two candles in candlesticks, a large Family Bible, a hymn-book, and a Discipline; and having finished reading his hymn, he had taken off his spectacles, and laid them on the hand-board. The hand-board, as we called it, was a poplar plank about eight feet long, twelve inches wide, and one inch thick. It was supported by two or three upright stanchions, projecting about nine inches beyond them at each end. Old Benhadad was seated on a bench that was placed close against the pulpit, and exactly under the project- ing end of the board ; and just as the preacher had laid down his gold spectacles and hymn-book, back upward so as to keep it open till the time came to sing, and was taking a long breath before commencing his address. Old Benhadad thought that was the time for him, as all was still; so he screamed as though he had discovered the world to be on fire, at the same time jumping di- rectly upward with all his might. He struck his little round, bald head against the bottom of the plank, split- ting it off" from end to end; and down came plank, pitcher, glass of water, Bible, hymn-book. Discipline, both candles, and spectacles, all tumbling together. The pitcher of water fell on a lady and her child, which lay in her lap; the tumbler of water went down the back of Old Benhadad, and suddenly arrested his "ends of the river and ends of the yeath " prayer; for he never finished it. For a moment no one knew what was coming next, till the preacher said, "Brethren, can you sing a song until we get fixed up again?" and sat down beside a young minister who was sitting in the pulpit. While some persons were employed in nailing up the hand-board, and gathering the scattered arti- cles, Mr. M. moved close to the young preacher, and. 574 OLD BENHADAD. gnawing his thumb-nail (which was his custom when troubled), he whispered, "I will give that old fellow a dozen of aj^ples if he will prove his attendance and go home." Now, this old man lived at least six months of the year at camp-meetings and protracted-meetings; and when one was over, he had only to go home with some brother to get his shirt washed and his shoes greased, and he was ready for another. There is yet another kind of idler, for whom I can- not find a better name than the " counting-room loafer." I remember that at one period of my life I came within half a degree of assuming this character myself. I contracted the habit of going every day, when I was not otherwise employed, first to the post-office, and then to the store of Mr. M., where I would meet two or three kindred spirits, and we would talk and spin yarns for hours. The thing that saved me was this: I heard that some person had said that if he could get " Chip of the Old Block" at M.'s store, comfortably seated, with his legs crossed, he would talk for hours. The thought instantly occurred to me, "What do I go to Mr. M.'s store for? I have no business there, and I shall not go again until I have." Mr. M.* thought that I had be- come offended, until I had an opportunity to explain; and from that day to this I have made it a point not to go anywhere unless I had some kind of business to transact there. There is one stand-point from which a view of the character of loafers never fails to affect me, and that is when an individual of the lowest grade of the species comes within my observation. He has no home, no friend, no means; when he eats one meal, he knows *The Kev. John Morrow, an old and vakied friend of Dr. Green. THE MEMOSER. 575 not where he is to get the next. He knows not during the day where he is to rest at night. Having no character to protect, he is destitute of the stimulants that excite to action; never repels an insult. And who knows what becomes of him? Who ever saw one of this character die? But they do die. Who ever closed their eyes or attended their funerals? Where is the choir that sang their funeral-hymn, or the church-bell that tolled their departure? Who ever saw the long, slow-moving, line of carriages that followed such a one to the grave? And where stands the polished marble, throwing back the light of the pale moon, guarding the spot where the once houseless, homeless, friendless loafer now sleeps? This recalls the familiar stanza: Thus let me live, unseen, unknown; Thus unlnmented let me die; Steal from the world, and not a stone Tell where I lie. The Memoser. We were talking of old times in the department of old-field school education; and notwithstanding the improvement in system, and also in teachers, has kept up with the growth of the country and its institutions, yet, from the scenes of Sleepy Hollow to the present day, we now and then meet with one of the descend- ants of Ichabod Crane. Kot many years ago you might have seen in one of the quiet corners of Middle Tennessee, near a large creek or small river, a genuine old-field school-house. The country round about was rather wild and frontier- 576 THE MEMOSER. like; the scenery was bold and picturesque. The teacher was a regular-built Buckeye. He was pretty well educated, sanguine in temperament, very inquis- itive, and somewhat ambitious; and I shall have no better opportunity of introducing him than the present. His person was rather prepossessing, of medium size, fair skin, blue eyes, light hair, with clean-shaved face; not what the ladies would call a fancy-man — not being particularly devoted to dress, yet he was good-looking. He had traveled but little, and had not mixed much with the world; and being confiding in disposition and sanguine in temperament, was rather easily imposed upon. He was boarding with a Mr. R., a plain, quiet, old-fashioned man, of very few words, and apparently not the least inclined to any thing like a joke. On the river a few miles above Mr. E., there lived a Mr. D., who had put a fish-trap into the stream, and soon discovered that his own negroes, together with those of his neighbors, were taking all the fish out. In order to keep the negroes away from his trap ho raised a story and circulated it among the colored peo- ple, to the efi'ect that there was a kind of amphibious animal, half fish and half beast, that inhabited the caves along the river, of which there were quite a num- ber. He called this mysterious animal, or monster, a "memoser;" represented it as of prodigious strength, and fearless, and that it had a great love for fish and human flesh, especiall}^ negro flesh; he also repre- sented it as a great feeder — that it would eat a fish -trap full of fish at one time, and that a dead negro would not make more than two meals; that it was not dan- gerous so much on account of its bad temper as its ap- petite, and just as soon as it came across any thing it liked it would begin to eat at once, and although you THE MEMOSER. 577 fought with all your might, it would still eat on; and that by the time a body w^as half eaten up, he would be mighty apt to die; and he farther gave out as a rea- son wh}^ a certain negro who had been drowned in the stream a short time before could not be found, that the memoser had gotten him. This stratagem was suc- cessful — the fish -trap was protected. Not long after this Mr. E. built a fish -trap, and having heard of Mr. D.'s plan of protecting his fish, took advantage of the presence of a number of his own servants one evening to tell about the strange animal that had made its ap- pearance in the river, and of its love for fish and negro flesh, and how the black folks were alarmed about it up at Mr. D.'s; reciting the matter so gravely and so much like history, that the school-master — who was present — believed it as firmly as the negroes. This school-master — whom we shall call Mr. Sloaps — at last began to make inquiries about the animal, and soon came to see both money and reputation in it, believing it no small achievement to add a new animal to the acknowledged list of God's creatures, and thereby be a contributor to natural history; for he said that the creature was not laid down in any of the books; and farther, that he had no doubt that he could get a large sum of money for one of them from some museum in the eastern cities. Mr. E. discovering that Mr. Sloaps had taken the wliole story as a verity, determined to see what he could m.ake out of him, and went on to tell Sloaps that he did not want to be fooling with any such monster; the idea of being caught by it and one-half of him to be eaten for supper, and the rest to be borne off" to some watery cave for the beast to make his breakfast ofi" of, did not suit him. Mr. S. said that he would not 25 578 THE MEMOSER. be the least afraid of it if he had a good gun. Mr. E. had as good a gun as was ever fired, but was not a very good shot himself; but if Sloaps would take the gun and risk it, some night after the fish began to run they would go to the trap and see what could be done. This was agreed to. Mr. E. made his plans known to his overseer and his wife, and none else. The trap was made to take fish as they descended the stream, and such traps are mainty successful in the autumn; the fish, running up in the spring to spawn and raise their young, return to deeper streams for winter-quar- ters. Mr. E.'s plan was that the overseer, without the knowledge of Sloaps, should go up the stream above the traps, and, throwing himself into the river, come down and enter the trap in his own way, and receive the fire of Sloaps, which was to be nothing more than a small portion of powder and a light paper wad; for Mr. E. was to load the gun with great care for Sloaps. At length there came a little swell in the river, and it was thought there would be a sufficient number of fish coming into the trap to tempt the memoser to pay it a visit, so the double-barreled shot-gun was loaded, and Mr. E. and Sloaps started for the river. At the jtoint where the trap was put in, the river was seventy yards wide, and the trap was about midway, and reached by a canoe. The water below the dam was some five feet deep, with a pretty strong current. The river-shore was a bluff clay bank, about ten feet high, l»ut at the canoe-landing the water was apj^roached by a deep, narrow cut. The night was dark, but by the use of the canoe E. and Sloaps made their way to the trap, and there they sat waiting for the memoser. At length here it came down the stream, growling and plunging at a dreadful THE MEMOSER. 579 rate. The overseer thinking that, as the water in the river was yet low, the fall into the trap might be so great as to cut and bruise him, went to the shore, re- turned to w^here he had left his clothes, put them on, and made his w^ay home. Mr. E. told Sloaps, after the memoser disappeared, that there were generally two of them — an old and a young one; that the young one was a little timid, but the old one was not afraid of any thing; and he had no doubt that it was the young one they saw that night, and they might look out for the old one the next night. So they returned home and reported. By the next night the river had swollen so as to make the fall into the trap perfectly safe. Im- mediately after dark Mr. E. and Sloaps were again on the spot — Sloaps on the trap, with his gun all ready, and E. sitting on one of the main timbers that sup- ported it, holding the cable of the canoe in his hand. The night was dark, save here and there a beam from a star would struggle through the trees that lined the shore. At length here came the memoser, and no mis- take, plunging, growling, and snapping. Said E., "He is coming." "I hear him," said Sloaps. "Be certain that you make a sure shot." "Never mind; let him come, and I'll give him goss! " Closer and closer it came; and E. said that although he knew who it was, yet the darkness of the night, the angry growl, and the heavy plunges, all taken together, made it a frightful sort of business. Just as the memoser reached the fall of the trap, Mr. E. threw the cable into the canoe, jumped into it him- self, and made for the shore, screaming to Sloaps to save himself, if he could. Sloaps fired one barrel, but without effect. A moment more, and the other barrel was discharged. Still the monster was unhurt. Sloaps, 580 THE MEMOSER. with a wild, despairing wail, threw the gun one way, and jumped as flir as he could in the opposite direction into the river; but he had hardly struck the water be- fore the memoser was in close behind him, almost ready to lay hold on him. He tried swimming, and jumping, and all kinds of modes, so as to get on, and finally reached the bank some twenty yards below the canoe-landing, but happened to strike it w^here a large sycamore-tree had thrown out a number of roots, which he took advantage of, and in an almost miraculous man- ner made his way to the top of the bank. To go to the path w^iich led out from the canoe-landing would have been twenty yards out of his way, and as the me- moser was almost up the bank, he concluded that nothing but a bee-line would save him, and that ran through a dark, swampy bottom, into which he plunged like a wild beast. He had already lost his gun and hat in the river, and had not proceeded far before he struck his foot against a log, and fell headlong, running his arms into the mud up to his elbows. Here he lost his shoes; but what of that? it only increased his flight. After leaving the swamp he had to pass through a nar- row lane, in which a number of cows were lying, and aiming to spring over one of them, the cow at the same moment getting up, brought his feet in contact with her back, which turned him a complete somersault; but he was up and off in a moment. The gate was passed, and knowing the front-door was locked, and having no time to wait for it to be opened, he made for the back-door, but seeing the kitchen-door open, and it being a little nearer than the other, he pitched into the kitchen among the negroes, who were already in a state of alarm about the memoser, knowing that Mr. Sloaps and master had gone to try and kill it. Sloaps THE MEMOSER. 581 was a frightful-looking object — no hat, no shoes, wet, and covered with mud. He was so out of breath that he could not speak ; his lungs were working like an old rickety engine ; all that he could say for some time was, "Olaw! Ah me!" The negroes, almost scared to death, began to scream, which brought in Mrs. E., who in- quired, "What in the world is the matter?" By this time Sloaps had recovered sufficiently to speak a few words, and answered, "It came." "What came?" asked Mrs. E. "The old one," said Sloaps. "Where is your gun?" "In the river." "And where are your hat and shoes?" Tie did not know. "Where is my husband?" "Ah!" said he, "it's got him; the last time I heard him he was hollerin' mighty weak." When poor Sloaps heard that it was all a trick, he sloped from that neighborhood. When I am at home I have the honor to belono- to an angling club, the members of which go once a year on a camp-angling trip into the iron hills of Tennessee. On a certain occasion, as we sat around the camp-fire, I related to the party the story of Mr. Sloaps and the memoser. There was one present who was a sort of fixture among us; his name was Dick — a servant be- longing to a member of the club, generally known as Uncle Nick. Dick caught points of the story here and there, and being strongly tinctured with a love of the marvelous, it required no eff'ort of his faith to believe it; and there were many things on the stream in which we were angling that would justify the idea that the memoser might be found there. The banks were very 582 THE MEMOSER. much burrowed by the great number of amphibious animals which there abounded, and in the bluffs were numerous caves and dens. Within a few hundred yards of the camp was an old rickety mill, all tied up with strings, like a negro's gourd banjo, and connected with the machinery was an alarm. The mill ground so slowly that the miller, who was also a farmer, could not afford to keep any person waiting upon it; so when he had put up a turn he would go off to superintend his farming operations. When the grist was reduced to about a half bushel, the hopj^er would rise about one inch, bringing an old saw-blade in contact with the runner, and producing the most unearthly, incompar- able, w^iizzing, hissing, grating sounds that have ever been heard by mortal ears. During our stay at this camp, we alt agreed one night to go and fish awhile. A large portion of the club went to a favorite point some distance off, while Uncle Nick, Dick, and myself, went to the mill. The stream, pitching over the dam, had washed out a pool just be- low, in the form of nearly one-third of a circle. Uncle Nick took his position on the outer point of this circle, I about midway, and Dick close to the mill. Between Dick and myself, lining the water's edge, was a thick growth of sycamore-bushes about ten feet high, and communication between the two points was effected by a small path which lay near a rocky bluff. As night came on, the sun seemed to hasten as though he wished to get as far away as possible; the moon had gone round to see wiiat the people in China were doing; the stars had put on mourning in the drapery of murky clouds; and there seemed to be no light in the world save the ghastly, flickering glare of Uncle Nick's tin lantern. Truly the night was inky black, and all nat- THE MEMOSER. 583 ure seemed dead, except the roar of the water over the dam, and the rumbling of the old mill-wheel, which went reeling and staggering around like a drunkard. All at once the alarm commenced, and it occurred to me that it would frighten Dick if he did not know what it was; for the memoser story was fresh upon his mind. I looked over, by the aid of Uncle Nick's lantern, and there stood Dick, looking, with all the eyes and light that he had, in about the mill-wheel, whence the noise seemed to proceed. At length, turning toward his mas- ter, he said, "Massa Nick, do you hear dis ting here?" His master paid him no attention. He then thought I was the next best chance, and he asked me, "Do you hear dis ting?" At that moment there was a little breath of air, w^hich seemed to increase all sounds, and I remarked, " Dick, it seems to be getting closer to you." That was enough ; he dropped his pole, and dashed like a wild boar into the thicket; whether he went through, or over, or under the bushes, I could not tell. He was the worst scared negro I have ever seen, and to this day he believes that it was the memoser; nor could he ever afterw^ard be induced to fish near that mill at night. On one occasion, when talking to him about going there to fish at night, he said that if he was taken there at all, he would have to be taken dead. POETRY. The Rev. S. D. Baldwin, D.D.* - THE wing of death was o'er the city spread, And anxiously the hearts of thousands throbbed; While some had fled, as Lot, and left the j)lains, In which, of old, devoted Sodom stood. Others remained, but not without their fears, For 'twas no common foe that might be met With glittering sword, and spear, and shield. The smile, the merry laugh of gladdened hearts, Like injured friends, were seen and heard no more. The bench, the box, the bar, were left alone. The pris'ner to his gloomy cell returned. And litigation's dusty hall was closed. While strangely quiet grew the market-place; The business man, with measured step, and slow, In silent mood went to his place of trade; And cautiously he oped his sullen door. As though the foe in hidden corner dwelt; And now with match or flaming taper lit, To drive it forth he disinfectant burned. Both thought and feeling were all kindred now. And fell in line like soldiers under drill; And every man by sad impulses knew The thoughts and feelings of his neighbor's heart. But some there were whose business 'twas to see The sick, and such as friendless were, Who lay w^ithin the monster's deadly grasp. -^Commemorative of his death by cholera, in Nashville, 1866. (584) THE REV. S. D. BALDWIN, D.D. 585 The skillful master of the healing art, The man of prayer and minister of God: These, with the gloomy, slowly-moving hearse. And such as to the grave went with their dead, And those Avho bore prescriptions to the sick. Mainly make up the signs of life without. Thus passed the long, the sad, the weary days. At night the pestilence in violence greAv: Men were afraid to sleep lest they might wake And find themselves within its deadly grasp. Protecting nostrums on each mantel stood. And fires were kindled on the summer hearth, And lighted lamps and jets were left to burn Throughout the dark and lonely hours of night; And prayers were whispered by unpracticed tongues. But there was one who was well known by all By his devotion to the sick and poor. Nightly the ring of old McKendree's bell Brought out the anxious multitudes to prayer, And scores did at the sacred altar bow. And prayed, and wept, and made their peace with God. This faithful watchman stood on Zion's walls. And long and loud the gospel-trumpet blew. Complaining not until his strength gave way; But still the sick, the poor, his presence claimed. And consolation such as comes alone From promises in God's most holy word ; And for their good alone he overdrew Upon his time, his rest, his health, his strength. The fell destroyer's power at length was staid, The sick were mostly convalescent now, And men began to feel the worst was past; And now it was this faithful man of God Was heard to say, "The calls on me are few; The sufferers now," he said, "are lessening fast; I hope and trust that I shall rest to-night." At the appointed time he thanked his God, And laid him down upon his bed to rest, 586 THE REV. S. D. BALDWIN, D.D. But ere the rosy dawn he woke and found The dark-winged angel's shadow o'er him spread: He felt the deadly damps, and he was sick — The faithful minister of God was sick. From lip to lip the sad news passed along, And ere the day grew old this truth was known Throughout the Church, and far beyond it flew, For all that knew him loved him ardently, And few there were to whom he was not known. Physicians to his side in haste repaired. And thought with care he soon would be relieved. This was the holy Sabbath of the Lord; The church-bell loudly rang, as was its wont, To herald forth the blessed hour of prayer: The faithful shepherd did not meet his flock — They hoped and prayed that he might soon be well; But on the morrow he grew worse again. The Church and all his friends were anxious now, And as one heart the common feeling shared; Uncalled physicians quickly came, and went, And tarried long beside the good man's bed; While in the mart, and all along the streets, Each man you met with deepest interest asked. How stands the case with our loved pastor now? The growing interest reached the city's heart, And orders came that no disturbing wheels Should by his dwelling pass, that he might rest; While softly those within, with feet unshod. Passed gently through his room and round his bed; While those who gifted are with power to heal Each symptom watched, with unabated care. His tongue, his skin, his breathing, and his pulse. And warmed his blood with artificial heat, And scathing blisters drew, but all in vain. The foe was now intrenched, and had the range, And could not be by human power dislodged; E'en faithful prayer was unavailing now. Death was the sick man's wish and God's decree! THE REV. S. D. BALDWIN, D.D. 587 'Twas said at length, His strength is giving way, His skin is growing cold, his breathing sliort, His weak and struggling pulse more faintly beats, While the chilled blood is stealing round the heart. In circles constantly diminishing. Now hastened to his side a long-tried friend, To whom for years he had united been By ties which naught but Christian friendship makes, And bowing down beside the sick man's bed, They thus together talked, and wept, and prayed. " How is my brother now?" he kindly asked. The man of God then oped his languid eyes. Inclined his head, and recognition gave. And to the question, " Dost thou sutler much ?" In gentle tones, " Not much," was his reply. " How is the inner man, th' immortal soul?" With heavenly smile, " In perfect health," he said; "Ah! all is right in that department now." 'Twas then a sleepless friend, who vigils kept By day and night, with more than brother's care, Softened his lips with a few drops of wine. To give him strength and aid his feeble speech. When this was done he calmly spoke these words: "I'll drink it in my Father's kingdom new — The fullness of that promise is unknown! " And then we prayed that God would safely lead His faithful servant through the vale of death. A silence now ensued — the sick man lay With eyes intent on objects seen by none Save those whom God hath blessed with gifted sight, A friend then ask'd, " How are thy thoughts employed?" " Expanding glories of the future state Are full in view," he said ; " I see them now 1 " His eyes now calmly closed, he spake no more. Then every sense was shut on earthly things, And opened on his mansion in the sky; He now was standing on the flowery mount. Viewing tho land of Bculah and the scenes beyond — 588 THE REV. ELISHA CARR. The throne of God, the pilgnm's final home, 'Twas here he met God's angels from above, And heard his Saviour call. Up higher come ! He dropped the sickle from his trembling hand, And gathering up his numerous sheaves, And with the victor's shout upon his tongue, He passed beyond the everlasting hills. And only left his shattered tent behind. But still we have his dust ; it sleeps beside The dearly loved companion of his youth. They were united while they lived on earth, And not divided are they now in death. The Rev. Elisha Carr. Well done, faithful pilgrim, thy labors are o'er; No longer shalt thou o'er a fallen world weep; Thy prayers and thy teachings, we'll hear them no more; Thy day's work is done, its reward thou shalt reap. We'll miss thee, my brother, we'll miss thee at prayer; Thy voice round the altar we'll ne'er hear again; To our home in the dust thou wilt no more repair; Thou art gone to the land of the blest to remain ! You '11 be missed by the orphans, you '11 be missed by the poor; For advice and for comfort they'll now look in vain; Your footprints no more we shall trace to their door. Where sorrowing hearts are throbbing with pain. You'll be missed by the children, the lambs of the fold; They knew you, and loved you, and hung on your word ; They '11 treasure your counsels as jewels of gold. While mem'ry shall cherish the lessons they 've heard. You '11 be missed by the prisoners in gloom, and alone, Your counsels and prayers they will no longer hear, With promises bright and as cheering as noon, AVhen no other friend or comfort was near. THE REV. a. W. D. HARRIS, D.D. 589 You'll be missed by the widow, with lone bleeding heart, All crushed by bereavement, in grief left alone, While her throbbing breast heaves as tho' pierced with a dart, While the bright sun of life set in darkness at noon. The Rev. G. W. D. Harris, D.D * Forty-eight years ago I saw him stand Amid his brethren in the house of God, To pledge himself to God's most holy cause. To bear the tidings of redeeming love Unto a world that by transgression fell; And to each question asked he answers gave Which proved to all that he had been with God, And had been chosen to proclaim his word; And heaven and earth agreed, as with one voice, To send him forth a herald of the cross. And then and there he put his armor on, And, sword in hand, he rushed into the fight, And ne'er put off his sword, or armor by, Till Heaven said, " Well done ! it is enough ! " He was well suited to his holy work; He bore the marks of manhood in his prime; His head was clear, his heart was right with God. His will, that gives support to other powers. Was strong as is the pure and hammered steel. He sought no easy berth from toil and strife. But pressed the center of the common foe. He made no terms with sin but to repent, And in the name of Christ a pardon find. With flesh and blood he never did confer, Or flee the burdens which his brethren bore. In action he was true as truth itself. And yet he was as just as he was true. It may be said he was a leader born- Prompt in command, but ready to obey. * Written on the occasion of his death. 590 LONELINESS. To save the lost was his intense desire; And to accomplish this he wavered not Because of length of road, or winter's day. He plunged the streams, and braved the stormy blast, To preach the gospel to the humble poor ; No firmer hand ere grasped the battle-flag. He feared not wicked men nor savage beasts, Nor changed his course to follow beaten paths; He was a leader, and spied out his way. Uncertain sounds his trumpet never gave. Nor wasted strength in battling with the wind. His voice w^as strong and clear, his manner grand; His words were chosen well — each in its place — The burden of his theme the cross of Christ. He warned the sinner of his dreadful end, And lit the pathway of the child of God With Heaven's promise of a rich reward. He labored not in vain: God was with him, And from his trump rang notes of victory. But when I saw him last on Zion's walls. His locks were thin, his native strength well spent. He blew a bugle-note of victory; It was his last; his work on earth was done. And ere one week had passed away and gone, He heard the call from labor to rew'ard. He sow^ed in tears, but now he reaps in joy. His parchment, now as free from blot or stain As the untrodden snow from polar skies. He rendered up, and in its stead received A fadeless crown of life at God's riijht-hand. Loneliness. I WOULD not be a lonely star, Of ancient birth and brilliant light, To shine alone on empty air The live-long night. LINES ON LERISSA HUGHES. O^^ I would not be a lonely flower, Of odor sweet and lovely hue, To rest my head on some lone bower, And drink the dew. I would not be a lonely dove, Of plumage soft and plaintive song — had I not a friend to love, Life would be long! 1 would not be a lonely saint, Though heaven itself should be my own ; Without a friend my heart would faint, Thus left alone. Lines on Lerissa Hughes. The mountain-oak within its native wood. How strong its trunk ! how deep it dips its roots Among the ancient rocks or solid earth, Like anchors cast within the ocean depth. To hold the bark amid the raging storm ! See how it lifts its proud, defiant head, With arms unfolded wide to catch the breeze, Or drink the dew, or kiss the light of morn! It withered not because of summer's heat, Nor did it fail amid the winter's cold; It rocked beneath the heavings of the storm. But yet its well-laid anchors held it fast. And yielded not, but still the storm defied. At last there came a worm of shapeless form. Appearance mean, contemptible in size — Fit food for tlie young sparrow in its nest — Which, unobserved and slow, its work began, Inserting in the veins of the proud oak A subtle virus of a deadly kind. And soon it witlicrod, drooped, and died away; 592 LINES ON LERISSA HUGHES. Defying long the storm, died by a worm. These thoughts came to my mind the other day, As I beheld the father of Lerissa. She was his last, the darling of his life ; Her presence cheered his heart and smoothed his brow, The center figure in his household group; But since Lerissa passed from earth away, To sing among the saints that dwell in light. The strong man who had braved the storm of life, And never quailed in presence of the foe, Has failed at last; his manly head is bowed. To him the birds have ceased to sing their songs; Each lovely flower droops on its parent stem; The light of day passed from his door away, Because Lerissa left his earthly home. Kind father, now lift up your drooping head — Lerissa dwells within your Father's house; You see her not, but she 's Lerissa still ; You'll find her where the saints and angels dwell. THE END. H HI 89 f ■^^-Lu_^ ''^ 4 ..^apv, -Kp^^^ o« .°^':^^'^ • 1 1 • ^^»" _ _ ^ ' • • • v^ »i;4^%% • #•• • •o • I *« •l^'* O^ aO HECKMAN BINDERY INC. ^SEP 89 ^^^Wt N. MANCHESTER, ^^y INDIANA 46962 » I i •