AUTOBIOGRAPHY
orp
REV. JAMES B. FINLEY
oa,
PIONEER LIFE IN THE. W.WEST
EDITED BY
W. P. STRICKLAND D. D.
CINCINNATI:
CR:AN STON AND CURI:TS.
NEWM YORK:
HUNT AND EATON.








PREEF ACE.
DON'T run; I shall not be long-winded. Just
hold on a moment, as I have but few words to say.
I always did despise long introductions to sermons.
and scarcely ever listen to one with any degree of
patience. I have an equal dislike to a long introduction to a book, and, hence, verbum sat.
The following pages contain a brief, unvarnished
narrative of the incidents of my life; and as, in the
providence of God, I was permitted to grow up with
the west, it may not be uninteresting to the people
of the west, to be made more fully acquainted with
my somewhat eventful history.
For upward of forty years I have been constantly
engaged in preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ
in the woods, cities, and villages of the west; and
nearly all that time, with few exceptions, such as I
have noted, my name has been on the effective list
of traveling preachers.
My time, with what talents I had, has all been
consecrated to the Church of my choice, and now,
after the lapse of almost half a century in the service of the Church, I would not recall what I have
done and suffered for Christ's sake. The only regret
that I have is, that I did not accomplish more.
While the work was going through the press, I
was engaged in the enterprise of building a new
3




+4                PREFACE.
churcn, the one occupied by my charge being too
small. Pa'rt of my time has been employed in raising funds for this object, and I am pledged to see
this infant Church through its difficulties.
The proceeds of this work, after paying the expenses of its publication, are to be appropriated to
a benevolent object; and I trust it may meet with
favor among the thousands of Christian friends with
whom in life I have had pleasant communion, and
with whom I hope to spend a happy eternity in the
communings of a better world.
J. B. FMNY.
Cincinnati, Ohio, May, 1853.




CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
Hiis parentage-State wnd condition of the country at that day-Mdi-.
sion of his father to North and South Carolina-Civil war-Tory partyTory Major-Patriotic. songs-Charles Wesley-His mother-Grandmother-Excitement in the Presbyterian Church on Psalmody-The
Methodist preacher-Emigration to Kentucky-Trip down the Ohio —Efforts by Indians to decoy the boats to shore-Fate of Rev. Mrh. TuckerMaysville-Death of his grandmother-Removal to Washington, Mason
county, Kentucky-Simon Kenton-Girty-Kenton's conversion-Mode of
administering justice-Stocton's Station-Visit of the Indians-Their
depredations-Stratagem  of his mother-Captain Cassady-Melancholy
event-Early love of the chase-Wolves-Canebrake-My father's congregation-Opens a high school-Importance of education..- PAGES 15-42
CHAPTER  II.
Backwoods character-Immigration-Hatred of the Indians-Army under Gen. Harmar-Spies-M'Arthur and Davis-Incidents-Thrilling adventure of two spies-Spies appointed by Gel. Wayne-Capt.. Wells —Extraordinary feat-Dispatch to take an Indian prisoner —Adventure-Singuiar recognition-Capture of a Potawatomie chief-An instance of humanity-Dispatch for another prisoner-A daring act-A-ells and MI'Cleland wounded —Irving's account of M'Cleland-Anecdote of a trapperPioneer bravery-The soldier-boy-Mrs. Hunter and the Indians. - - -43-68
CHAPTER III.
Life in the backwoods-Food and dress-Cabins-Backwoods wedding[he Buffalo-Mode of catching-Mills of the early settlers-Game-The
elk-Bear-Adventure with-The deer-The panther-The wolf-The
coon-Sports with-The opossum-Hunter's life-Backwoods dress..69-98
CHAPTER IV.
The army of Wayne-Land Speculators in Kentucky-Col. MassieMeeting at Manchester-Exploration of the Scioto country-Skirmish
with the Indians-Another party-Cultivation of land on the SciotorTown of Chilicothe laid out-Zane's trace-Remarks on progress-First
wagon driven to Chilicothe-Beauty of Scioto bottoms-My first visitDiseases of the country-Murder of an Indian —Robbery —The first hotel
5




CONTENTS.
in Chilicothe-First store-First physician-First ministers-First Legislature —Court —Trial by jury-Emancipation of slaves-Trip to OhioDestination-Winter camps-Hardships-Indian Antidote-Fondness for
indian life-Early education-Study of medicine-Drove of cattle-Journey to Detroit-Hardships encountered.    *..........- PAGES 99-118
CHAPTER V.
Backwoods biography-Captain Cassady-Taken prisoner by the Indi.
ans-Mercer Beason-Melancholy end-Bazil Williams-His fleetness —
Duncan M'Arthur-His character as a spy-Responsible offices-John
M'Donald-A brave man-Boys of those days-Horrible tragedy-M'Donaid joins Wayne's army-Surveying tour-Encounter with Indians-Natihaniel Massie's company-His character-Peter Lee-Nathaniel Beasly —
William O'Banion............. —.... 119-134
CHAPTER VI.
Tragical occurrence-Death of Capt. John Herrod-The cold-blooded
murder of Wawilaway by Wolf-Death of Williams-Great excitementTecumseh-Council at ehilicothe-Peace restored-Trials of early settilers-Mr. Atkinson'and family-House attacked by a bear-Brave conduct of the daughter......  135-146
CHAPTER VII.
Return to personal narrative-Winter spent in hunting-Bear huntHoliday sports-lMarriage and housekeeping —Farming-Hunting —Young
folks of that day —Fashionable life-Rev. John Collins-Country schoolsSabbath-breaking —Bear hunt-Loss of property-Solitude of the wilderness-Adventure with a bear. -..*....................... 147-160
CHAPTER VIII.
Early religious education —Catechetical instruction-Conversation with
my father on election-Winchester's Dialogues-Presbyterian elder-Cardplaying-Dancing —Great revival of religion in Kentucky-Meeting at
Cane Ridge-Sensations produced-Convictionl-Mayslick —Pious  German-My conversion —Early experience-Persecution from the worldExercises on the subject of preaching —Awful conclusion —Relapse into
sin-Alarm and conviction occasioned by the accidental discharge of a
gun...............- *                     -....-.....*..-161-174
CHAPTER IX.
Awful temptation-Russel's Seven Sermons-Methodist preaching-Class
meeting-Reading the Scriptures, and prayer-Reclamation-Vows to
God-Myself and wife join the Methodist Episcopal Church —leeting at
Fowler's-Exhortation-Advice of the pious, old German friend-Erect
a meeting-house-Quarterly meeting at Hillsboro-Rev. John SaleCalled to exhort-An incident-Persecution and temptation-Exercises
about preaching-Submission to the will of God................. 17.-189




CONTENTS.                            7
CHAPTER X.
Consent to travel Scioto circuit-First appointment-West Union —Sur
prise-Camp meeting on Paint creek-Receive license as a local preacherAdmitted into the traveling connection, and appointed to Wills Creek circuit-Divine promises-Arrival at Zanesville-Description of circuitBuild a cabin for parsonage-Irish family-Roman Catholics-Conversion-Opposition in preaching-Principal text-books at that day-Preaching under a tree-An old German and son-German woman awakenedJ'ainful incident-Alarming judgment-Visit to a poor woman-Rev. John
Strange-Camp meeting on Tuscarawas river-Moravians-Mr. John Bowers and wife-The hunter and trapper-Appointment at his house-Tragical event-Indian Christians masacred-Rev. Mr. Mortimer...... 190-211
CHAPTER XI.
Mrs. Boarer-Her efforts to cross the Capin Mountains-Lost-Snowstorm-Dreadful night-Loses her horse-Unprecedented sufferings —
Gave herself up to  die-Faithful dog-Found-God's grace sufficient..212-217
CHAPTER XII.
The doomed chieftain-Wyandott warriors —Mr. Sells's interference in
behalf of the Wyandott chief-Charge of witchcraft-Council condemn
and sentence him to death-Preparations for the execution-Manner of
death-Burial.  -...................... 218-222
CHAPTER XIII.
Knox circuit-Local preachers-Bowling Green-Emissaries of SatanRevival at Mount Vernon-Rev. Samuel Hamilton-Capt. Gavit-Camp
meeting anecdote-Gavit's conversion-Rev. Robert Manly-Appointment
at Newark-Threats ot the rabble-Man shot-Revival at Mr. John'sConviction of a young lady-Great revival-Young man possessed of the
devil-His conversion-Successful labors-My successor-Arian and Socinian heresy-Sad effects of it to this day-Newlights-St. Alban's township-The Owl creek Universalist-Fairfield circuit-Rev. Ralph Lotspeech-Extent of the circuit-Local preachers and prominent membersGreat earthquake-Consternation of the people-Whisky distiller and
party-The young preacher's grave..                     223-242
CHAPTER XIV.
Young men called to the ministry-Rev. Cornelius Springer-Rev. Samuel Baker-Rev. Job Baker-Rev. Jacob Hooper-Rev. Henry Baker-John
Dillon's iron works-The Dillon family-Formation of a class at the iron
works-Building of a meeting-house-Bishop M'Kendree-Rev. John
Goshen-His labors-Methodist Church and temperance-Advised to gct
home —Temperance sermons-Pledge-Rushville camp meeting-A row



8                        CONTENTS.
Advice to the rowdies-Conference at Chilicothe —Bishop Asbury and the
appointments-West Wheeling circuit-Rev. Jacob Young -Guessing
at the numbers in society —Roman Catholic convert-Abel Sargenlt;
the halcyon preacher-The unhappy influence of the war spirit-Local preachers-Model class-leader-Poor Jane Craig-The young law
yer.. - - - - -. - - - - - - - - - - - - -.........-PAxGES 243-261
CHAPTER XV.
Union of Barnesville and West Wheeling circuits-Rev. Michael Ellis —
The old German Methodist-An adventurous man-Great revival on Duck
creek-Camp meeting at Fairview-A son of Belial-Cross Creek circuitRev. Archibald M'Elroy-Extent of the circuit-Church discipline-Calvinist controversy-Present of a handsome Bible-Irish Ridge-Letter
from  brother M'Elroy-Rev. J. C. Hunter-Society at SteubenvilleMoney mania-Bankers-Towns-Bishop M'Kendree —His pack-horseArrival at the camp meeting-Methodist family at Springfield-Journal —Smithfield  Church-Training of members-Conference at Louisville.. e i *. e. e * -. * o *.. -. e. * -. - -  262 -284
CHAPTER XVI.
Appointed to the Ohio district-Extent of-Singular custom at meetings-Fanaticism-Calvinism  and Universalism-Presbyterian Union —
Confession of Faith-Rev. Thomas Branch-Singular text-Camp meeting-Hostile indications-Captain of banditti-Judge Cushing-A singular case-An English officer-A verdant young missionary-Quarterly
meeting in Major Gaylord's barn-Dr. Bostwick-The conversion of a
French soldier-Camp meeting on Lake Erie-The conversion of the sheriff-Americana horribilis-Two remarkable instances of conviction-Conference at Steubenville-A request for a talented minister-Russel Bigelow. -                         e. * -. 285-308
CHAPTER XVII.
Mode by which backwoods preachers were manufactured in other
days —Cumberland Presbytery-Meeting for candidates for the ministryA wild mountain-boy-His experience-The geologist-Bethel camp meet.
ing-The mountain-boy preacher-Another specimen-Methodist camp
meeting near Springfield-Kentucky orator-Personal appearance in the
pulpit-Style of preaching-Power over his auditors-A desperate encounter and struggle-Victory. - -   e.   309-329
CHAPTER XVIII.
The young missionary and the robber-The moral condition of the far
west, ab represented by a certain class-Travels of the young missionary-Arm of the Grand Prairie-The appearance of a suspicious-looking
stranger-The alarm of the missionary-Taken home by the stranger



CONTENTS.                            9
Agreeable surprise-His host a local preacher-Different spheres of usefulness.....~                                  PAGES 330-336
CHAPTER XIX.
The martyr preacher-Richmond Nolley-Summerfield-CookmanNolley's early life-His call to the ministry-Admission into the traveling
connection-Sent to Eddisto circuit, in South Carolina-Stationed in the
city of Charleston, South Carolina-Washington circuit, Georgia-His
habits and labors-Efforts to reach a distant appointment-Melancholy
death....*-.. -.. 337-343
CHAPTER XX.
Personal narrative continued-Reappointed to the Ohio district-Wyandott Indians-Early modes of worship-Conference in CincinnatiBishops-Delegates to General conference-Appointed to Lebanon district-Local preacher-Camp meeting-Camp meeting at Mechanicsburg-Went to General conference-Discordant elements in the bodyProposal to make the office of presiding elder elective-Compromise-Rev.
Joshua Soule's opposition-M'Kendree's request —Rule adopted to build
churches with free seats-Declared to be advisory-Round of camp meetings-Solicited to send a minister to Detroit-Conference at ChilicotheReturned to Lebanon district-First quarterly meeting at the Maumee
Rapids-Dismal journey through the Black Swamp-Meetin, with the
Wyandotts at Big Spring-Religion of the natives-Adventurous trip to
Detroit —Worship in the council-house-Governor Cass-Soldiers awakened under preaching-other appointments-Difficulty with an IndianIndian reservation-Drew up petition for the Wyandott nation-Request
for my appointment at Detroit-Not granted-Appointed to the Wyandott
mission-No missionary funds at that day-Mission family-Difficulties
connected with the mission-Sister Harriet Stubbs-Progress of scholars
in the mission school-Organization of a society-Religion takes hold of
the mind of the nation..                                 344-361
CHAPTER XXI.
Astonishing revival in the west in 1800-joint labors of a Cumberland
Presbyterian and Methodist preacher-Character of their preachingCamp meetings-Cane Ridge camp meeting-Great excitement-A bold
opposer smitten-Exhortation of a boy-Manner of the exercises —Jerkbig-Falling-Enthusiasm-Regular Baptists-Carey Allen-Siringfield
presbytery-Newlights-David  Purviance-Gov. Garrard-SecretaryTract on the Trinity-Shakers-Bur.ton Stone's exposition-ImmersionElder Holmes-Elder Farnam-A. Sargent and his twelve apostles-Elias
HIicks-Kidwell and the last edition of Universalism.....-.. 362-373
CHAPTER XXII.
Personal narrative continued-Wyandott mission-Report of Judge
laei to Secretary of War-Appointed to Lebanon district-Cincinnati




10                      CO INTENT S.
station- -Rev. J. F, Wright-Rev. Thos. A. Morris appointed editor of
Western Christian Advocate-Returned to district-Appointed to Chili
cothe district-Dayton district-A remarkable incident-Zanesville dis
trict-Appointed chaplain of the Ohio penitentiary-Superannuated-Appointed to Yellow Springs-Superannuated-Appointed to Clinton-street
Chapel, Cincinnati-Wyandott nation removed-Reflections-Mrs. Catha.
rine Walker's remarks and poetry.   -     -  - -... - -PAGES 374-380
CHAPTER XXIII.
Rev. Francis Asbury's arrival in America-His early religious trainingConversion and connection with the Church-State of the Church in England-Early preaching-Planting of Methodism in America-Labors of
the early bishops-Meager support-Methodist Episcopal Church organized-Dr. Coke and Mr. Asbury elected joint superintendents-Interview
of Asbury with General Washington-Academical and collegiate education —Cokesbury College-Methodist Church and literature-Asbury's
visit to New Haven College-A change.-The fate of Cokesbury-Asbury
and Sabbath schools-Asbury's spirit-His general experience-His regard
for the preachers-Incident in his travels-His amor pate-ice —Wesley's political opinions-Death of Washington-Asbury's opinion ofCelibacy of Bishop Asbury —Coke and Whatcoat-Close of Asbury's
life.... -                   -- e-. —... —---- 381-897
CHAPTER  XX.IV.
Bishop M'Kendree-Camp meeting on Little Miami-Personal appearance of M'Kendree-His preaching-First interview with him-Thrilling
incident-M'Kendree requested to preach his principles in full-Attacked
by three Presbyterian elders-Circumstances connected with his election
to the superintendency-Description of his sermon before the members of
the General conference-Effect of that sermon-Prediction of Bishop Asbury-Twenty-seven years a bishop-Impartial in all his official acts —
The close of his life... - -.. - - - - - —...  398-406
CHAPTER XXV.
Rev. David Young-His parentage-Early life-Experience-Relapse.Wonderful preservation-His educational advantages-Taught a German
sehool in Tennessee-Cumberland Presbyterians-Meditations-Convictions-Went to a large meeting-Obtained religion-Joyous emotionsBecame a Methodist preacher-Views of the Cane Ridge revival-Ap
pointed to Wayne circuit, Kentucky-His colleague-Total eclipse-Appc.nted to Livingston  circuit-Extent of-Afflicted-Curious Indian
burying-ground-Improper class-leaders-On  his way to  conference
falls sick at Lexington-His personal appearance and general charac-.
tr~er.                                                   -   * *    v v.'.4 - - - *,,. ~ ~.~. -. -... -*.-.407 418




CONTENTS.                           11
CHAPTER XXV1.
Early life of the Rev. John P. Finley-Professor of Languages in Au
gusta College, Kentucky-Fate of Augusta College-Finley is received
into the traveling connection-Dr. Bascom's tribute to his memoryAnalysis of his character-Fifteen years in the ministry-Character as
a man-As a teacher-As a husband-As a father-As a friendAs a minister-His triumphant end-Rev. Jonathan Stamper's singular
dream.... ~.-........... -... PAGES 419-429
CHAPTER XXVII.
Rev. W. B. Christie-Embraced religion in early life-Was admitted
into the traveling connection in 1825-Various appointments-Thrics
elected to General conference-His personal appearance-Style of preaching-Power in the pulpit-Smitten with disease in the early part of his
ministerial life-Compelled to desist from his labors, and repair to Cincinnati-His health rapidly declined-Religious experience-Christian
testimony —Happy death.........................430-435
CHAP.TER XXVIII.
Indian  Biography-MoNoNcuE-His personal appearance-His eloquence as a public speaker-Specimens of his eloquence-Of great service to the mission among the Wyandotts-He was my faithful, well-tried
friend and brother-His death-BETWEEN-TaH-LOGs —His birth and parentage-But little known of his early life-With the Indian army at
the Maumee Rapids-Becomes a chief-Made principal speaker for the
nation-Sent by his nation to examine the pretensions of a noted Seneca
Prophet-Also, to examine the claims of a Shawnee Prophet-Tecumseh's
brother-Attended a great Indian council of the northern nations-Joins
the Americans-Settled in Upper Sandusky-His opposition to selling the
Wyandott lands-Proceeds with other chiefs to Washington-His reply
to the Secretary of War-Result of interview with heads of departments-Embraced religion-Attends the Ohio conference-Address at
New  York-BIG-TREE-Personal appearance-Manners-Residence-At
Braddock's defeat when a boy-Indian wars —Hair-breadth escape-His
conversion-Close of his life-THE MYSTERIOUS INDIAN CHIEFTAIN AND HIS
BRIDE-Their appearance at the mission-Regarded as superior beingsPersonal appearance of the chief-His dress-Hunting apparatusHorses-Conjectures-The bride-Her personal appearance-Dress-Thei
tent-Superstitious conjectures-Their mysterious disappearance-Indiat
tradition....... -.... 436-455








AUT B IOGR AP H Y
OF
REV. JAMIES B. FINLEY,








AUTOBIOGRAPHY
OF
REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.
CHAPTER I.
PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE.
MY ancestors were Europeans. My paternal grandfather was of the old stock of Pennsylvanians from Scotland. He being one of the younger sons, his elder brother
who, according to the laws of primogeniture, inherited the
Finley manor, sent him to the El Dorado of the western
world, in quest of his fortune. Having made Pennsylvania his home, he was in due time married to Miss Mary
Patterson, a lady from Germany. My maternal grandfather-Mr. James Bradley —was a native of Wales. My
grandmother was from England; she was a lady of rare
endowments, thoroughly educated, being well-read in the
ancient languages. During the period of revolutionary
strife and suffering she made herself acquainted with
medical science, and opened a hospital for the sick and
wounded soldiers, administering to their necessities with
her own benevolent hand.
My father-Robert W. Finley-was born in Bucks
county, Pennsylvania; and, after having received all the
advantages of literary training from the schools of his
neighborhood and the instructions of his patriot mother,
he was sent to Princeton College, New Jersey, and placed




16            AUTOBIO GRAPHEY OF
under the care of the venerable and talented Dr. Witherspoon, President of that institution. After having passed
through his collegiate course, he spent several years in
studying theology, and was occasionally employed as a
teacher of languages. Being prepared, as far as a theological training could prepare him, for the work of the
ministry, he was licensed, by the Presbytery, to preach
the Gospel.
At that time there were great and pressing calls foi
ministerial labor in the new settlements of the Carolinas
and Georgia; and, obeying the command of his Master, to
"go into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every
creature," he volunteered his services as a missionary to
that then distant field.
The country was in an unsettled state; the gloomy
clouds of war hung bodingly over the American horizon;
and aithough our patriot fathers had cast off their allegiance to the British crown, had struck the decisive blow,
and erected a broad, strong platform of national independence, yet the days of trial and conflict had not passed.
The Red Sea had been crossed, the Rubicon had been
passed, and their enemies overthrown like the enemies of
ancient Israel; yet, before they could gain entire and undisputed possession of the fair inheritance they claimed,
every foe had to be vanquished.
The times in which men live develop a corresponding
character. A missionary of that day, imbued with the
heroic spirit of the times, would not be likely to stop to
count the cost of a perilous enterprise where the advancement of the kingdom  of his Lord was concerned, but,
buckling on his armor, would courageously go forth at
once to "glorious war." There being no missionary bank
in any of the American Churches at that day, on whose
resources the missionary could draw the needed supplies,
young Finley bade adieu to home and friends, and, in the




REV. JAMES  lB. FINLEY.               17
natme of his Master, trusting in God for help and direc.
tion, hastened to his distant field of labor.
No sooner did he arrive, than he entered upon his work
of visiting the towns, villages, and settlements in North
and South Carolina, and Georgia, preaching the Gospel,
and planting Churches in destitute places. Here he labored for three consecutive years; at the end of which
time he married Miss Rebecca Bradley, whose fatherMr. James Bradley, as above noticed-believing he could
better the condition of his family by removing to a new
country, sold out his possessions on the Delaware river,
and removed to North Carolina. The marriage was celebrated in the year 1780, and on the following year, in the
month of July, I was born.
The horrors of a civil war raged with great fury;
neighbor was massacred by his neighbor. The Tory
party, urged on by the British, resorted to every conceivable means of oppression and violence to drive all the
Whigs from the country, or keep up a war of extermination. In this relentless persecution every feeling of humanity was outraged; and the barbarity of the savages
contending for their native hunting grounds against the
invasions of the pale face, falls below the savagism of
Tory warfare. All of my mother's brothers were killed
in this most deadly strife. Captain James Bradley fell in
Gates's defeat, fighting by the side of that heroic stranger,
Baron De Kalb, who, filled with generous emotions, left
his father-land, to join in our struggles, and water the tree
of liberty with his heroic blood. My uncle, Mr. Francis
Bradley, was murdered by four Tories near his own
house. He was assailed by them, and, knowing their purpose, he resolved to sell his life at the dearest rate. A
fierce and deadly encounter ensued; but, being overpowered by numbers, he was conquered, and the cowardly
ruffians shot him with his own rifle.
2




i 8           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
Mr. John Bradley was taken prisoner, and died on
board a prison-ship. My father and his congregation
were very odious to the Tory party, and they were
watched and waylaid on every occasion; so that their
lives were in jeopardy every hour. Even the sanctuary
and the family altar afforded no security, but were ruthlessly invaded by these more than savage white men.
One of the elders of my father's Church, while engaged
in solemn prayer around the domestic altar, was shot
down in the midst of his family by one of his Tory neighbors. The Tory on passing was arrested by the voice of
prayer, and stealthily slipping to the window, which, like
Daniel's, was open, he took a cool and deliberate aim at
the heart of the worshiper, and his spirit fled to join the
worshipers above. On that same morning my father
was shot at as he stepped out of the door, the ball passing through the clothes on his breast. Those who killed
Mr. Francis Bradley were followed, and three of them
killed; the other making his escape. After the war, the
fugitive being found by my uncle Price, was summarily
punished.
A Tory major, who lived in the neighborhood, on a certain occasion collected together at one house, by stratagem,
all the wives of the Whigs, and hung them up by the neck
till almost dead. This species of torture was resorted
to for the purpose of extorting from them the place of
their husbands' concealment. Their love and courage
proved entirely too strong for this trial, and not in one
single instance was the slightest disclosure made. They
despised alike the Tory and his threats. Some time after
the war, this same valorous major returned to the same
neighborhood where he had committed the dastardly act,
and the sons of those mothers whom he had so shamefully abused took him  out one night to a swamp, and
gave him twenty lashes on his back for every woman ha




REVT. JAMES B. FINLEY.                    19
nad hung; they then tarred and feathered him, ducked
him  in the swamp, and told him  if he did not leave the
country in one month, they would draw  every drop of
Tory blood out of his body.
My grandparents were subjected to the severest trials;
not only suffering  the loss of their children, but their
property; and their condition as well as that of all others
similarly situated, would have been vastly worse, had it
not been for the untiring vigilance and indomitable courage of the heroic Marion.
Like ancient Israel, who, while rebuilding the temple in
troublous times, had to bear about them  the weapons of
war, so the ministers of tile Gospel at that day were
obliged to carry carnal as well as spiritual weapons. ANIy
father was obliged, from the necessity of the case, to take
up arms in the defense of his country and family.  Often
while a little boy have I stood by my mother's knee and
heard her tell the bloody conflicts of those days; and her
tongue grew  eloquent as she described the thrilling adventures of the courageous Mtarion.  She frequently entertained us with the war-songs of those times.  I recollect a verse of one of those songs, and will give it to the
reader, as a specimen of the epic poetry of the times.
The song was composed on the battle of King's Mountain,
and ran thus:
"Proud Ferguson, he placed himself
All with his ragged race,O man;
He most defied the living God,
To take him from that place, man;
But brave Campbell did him there surround,
And beat him on his chosen ground,
And gave him there a deadly wound.
With pell and mell the Tories fell;
It's hard to tell how bad a smell
They left upon the place, man."
c Tories.




20             AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
During the eventful struggle of the Revolution, the fires
of patriotism  glowed as intensely in the hearts of -lhe
females as the males. Often have I listened, with indescribable emotions, to the patriotic songs sung by the melodious and soul-inspiring voices of the patriot mothers
and daughters of that day.
One has said, let me write the songs of a country, and
I care not who makes its laws. This remark is full of
meaning. No one can tell the wonders achieved by the
power' of the patriotic songs of a country. It matters not
how homely they are. If they breathe the spirit of the
times, they touch the heart and rouse it to action.  The
"Hail Columbia" of America, "Hail to the chief" of
Scotland, "Britannia rules the wave" of England, the
"Marseilles Hymn" of France, the "Erin go Bragh " of
Ireland, have accomplished more in infusing patriotism
and a military spirit into the minds of the people than all
other agencies combined.
We well understand the power of holy song in rousing
the dormant soul and raising the thoughts to heaven.
That inimitable poet Charles Wesley understood the powei
and influence of song, who, when asked by a dissolute
company for a song, and being allowed to sing one of his
own composing, commenced,
"Listed into the cause of sin,
Why should a good be evil?
Music, alas! too long has been
Press'd to obey the devil.
Drunken, or light, or lewd, the lay
Tends to the soul's undoing;
Widens, and strews with flowers the way
Down to eternal ruin."
So, gentle reader, you see I took my birth in the storlx
of war, and my nursery tales and songs were all of war.
Often while my precious mother would sing to me the
mournful dirge of death, have I seen the tears steal down




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                 21
ner calm and quiet face, and, while my heart would beat
with unutterable emotions, I have felt the spirit of revenge
rise and kindle my whole nature into a storm.
My parents and relatives were all Presbyterians, except
my grandmother Bradley, who was a Whitefield Methodist, and had been converted to God in her early life by
the ministry of that distinguished and eloquent man of
God, Rev. George Whitefield.  She was a zealous and
happy Christian. Her experience was bright and clear
on the subject of experimental religion, and differed from
the most of professors, as also from the experience of her
ministers. This often brought on a controversy between
her and her ministers and Christian friends. She expressed, in clear and direct terms, her belief in the witness of the Spirit, and always bore testimony to the fact
that she knew God had power on earth to forgive sins,
because she felt in her own heart the pardoning love of
God. Such a profession was regarded by both preachers
and people as presumptuous, if not, indeed, a species of
fanaticism.  The doctrine then taught was, that forgiveness of sins could not be known till death or after death,
and that it was necessary for us to commit some sin to
prevent self-exaltation and vain confidence. It was urged
as impossible for man to know his sins forgiven, because
the decrees of God concerning election were secret, and
could not be revealed or made known till death, or after
the soul passed into the spirit-world. From all this she
warmly dissented, affirming that she knew the time and
place of her conversion, and that she had the witness of
the divine Spirit bearing witness with her spirit that she
was a child of God.
At the close of the Revolutionary war, the new world,
as- it was then called, or, in other words, the land of
Boone-Kentucky-excited the attention of my father
und others, who were personally acquainted with Colonel




22             AUTOBIOGRAPIY  OF
Boone; and, taking with him  two of his brothers and as
many others of the neighbors as desired to accompany
him, he started out. on a tour of exploration.  It was in
the spring of 1784 that they entered upon this expedition;
and, after traversing the length and breadth of the land,
they returned in the summer, with the most glowing accounts of this terrestrial paradise, this new Canaan, "flowing with milk and honey."  No sooner had this intelligence been received, than many families resolved to
emigrate. My grandparents, being too old to encounter
the perils and fatigues of the wilderness, were not inclined
to go: whereupon my father yielded to their wishes, aban
doned his purpose of going to Kentucky, and removed
with his parents to Virginia, and settled between the north
and south branches of the Potomac. Here my father had
two congregations, to whom he ministered the word of
life.
Not satisfied with his location, and still yearning after
Kentucky, in the course of two years he crossed the
Mountains, and came to George's creek, near to where
the town of Geneva now stands.  In this place he gathered a congregation, and preached with great success and
popularity.
At. the time my father resided in the Redstone country
there was a great excitement in the Presbyterian Church
about Psalmody. The introduction of Watts's hymns was
considered a monstrous departure from the faith of the
Church, and, in some instances, divided Churches and
families. My father used them alternately, and thus
brought on him and the Rev. Joseph Smith much persecution. But the work of the Lord revived, and his power
was greatly manifested in the awakening of sinners.  I
recollect at a sacrament held in Mr. Griffin's barn' on the
Sabbath day, that forty persons cried aloud for mercy,
Rnd many of them fell to the floor. This was considered




REVO. JAMES B. FINLEY.               23
the greatest meeting ever known in the country for the
noise; but many of them professed to obtain religion.
Some time after this a sacramental meeting was held at
Laurel Hill Meeting-house, in the vicinity of Uniontown,
as now called. On Saturday afternoon, my father asked
a Methodist minister to conclude the public services by an
exhortation. This was much lauded by some of the old
folks, and inquiries were made as to who he was. One
]Mr. Cree, who knew him, said that he was a Methodist.
Then said one of the ruling men, "Finley has shown his
cloven foot." The next morning Rev. Carey Allen was to
preach, and he saw an advertisement stuck up on the
stand, which he took down, and read, as follows: "I do
hereby publish the bans of marriage between Robert W.
Finley and the Methodist preacher.  Any person having
any lawful objection let him now declare it, or forever
after hold his peace."  Mr. Allen instantly exclaimed,
with a loud voice, "I forbid the bans; and the reason is,
they are too near akin." This made many leave the congregation; but the Lord continued to pour out his Spirit,
and many professed to find peace in believing.
My father labored in this field for two years; but he
was not yet satisfied; Kentucky was the land of promise;
and, accordingly, in the fall of 1788, when Pomona was
pouring her richest treasures into the lap of the husbandman, he, in company with several others, cut loose fiom
their moorings at the mouth of George's creek, to emigrate to the rich cane-brakes of Kentucky.  I shall never
forget the deeply-thrilling and interesting scene which occurred at parting.  Ministers and people were collected
together, and after an exhortation And the singing of a
hymn, they all fell upon their knees, and engaged in
ardent supplication to God, that the emigrants might
be protected amid the perils of the wilderness. I felt
as tthough we were taking leave of the world.  After




24            AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
mingling together our tears and prayers, the boats were
oosed, and we floated out into the waters of the beautiful
Ohio. It was a hazardous undertaking; but such was
the insatiable desire to inherit those rich lands, and enjoy
the advantages of the wide-spreading cane-brakes, that
many were the adventurers; and although many lost their
lives, and' others all they possessed, yet it did not for a
moment deter others from the perilous undertaking. The
rush to California at the present time shows what is the
extent of hardships men, with the bare possibility of bettering their condition, will cheerfully undergo.
The Indians, jealous of the white. man, and fearful of
losing their immense and profitable hunting-grounds, from
the great tide of emigration which was constantly pouring
in upon them, were wrought up to the highest pitch of
fury, and determined to guard, as fatr as possible, both
passes to it; namely, the Ohio river and the Old Crab
Orchard road, or Boone's old trace, leading from the
southern portion of Kentucky to North Carolina. They
attacked all boats they had any probability of being able
to take, using all the strategy of whieh they were masters
to decoy them to the shore. Many boats were taken and
many lives were lost through the deceit and treachery of
the Indians and white spies employed by them.
The day on which the emigrants started was pleasant,
and all nature seemed to smile upon the pioneer band.
They had made every preparation they deemed necessary
to defend themselves from the attack of their wily foes.
The boat which led the way as a pilot was well manned
and armed, on which sentinels, relieved by turns, kept
watch day and night. Then followed two other boats at
a convenient distance. While floating down the river we
frequently saw Indians on the banks, watching for an opportunity to make an attack.
Just below the mouth of the Great Scioto, where th'




RE'V. JAMES B. FINLEY.               25
town of Portsmouth now stands, a long and desperate
effcrt was made to get some of the boats to land by a
white man. who feigned to be in great distress; but the
fate of William Orr and his family was too fresh in the
minds of the adventurers to be thus decoyed. A few
months previous to the time of which I am writing, this
gentleman and his whole family were murdered, being
lured to shore by a similar stratagem. But a few weeks
before we passed, the Indians attacked three boats, two of
which were taken, and all the passengers destroyed. The
other barely escaped, having lost all the men on board,
except the Rev. Mr. Tucker, a Methodist missionary, who
was sent by the bishop to Kentucky. Mr. Tucker was
wounded in several places, but he fought manfully. The
Indians got into a canoe and paddled for the boat, determined to board it; but the women loaded the rifles of
their deceased husbands, and handed them to Mr. Tucker,
who took such deadly aim, every shot making the number
in the canoe less, that they abandoned all hope of reaching the boat, and returned to the shore.
After the conflict this noble man fell from sheer exhaustion, and the women were obliged to take the oars,
and manage the boat as best they could. They were enabled to effect a landing at Limestone, now Maysville; and
a few days after their protector died of his wounds, and
they followed him weeping to his grave. Peace to his
dust, till it shall be bidden to rise! Though no stone
marks the spot where this young hero-missionary lies,
away from his home and kindred, among strangers in a
strange land, his dust is sacred, till the resurrection morn,
when it shall come forth reanimate to inherit immortality.
But to resume our narrative. Being too well posted-in
Indian strategy to be decoyed, we pursued our journey
unnmolested. Nothing remarkable occurred, save the death
of my much-loved grandmother. The day before we
3




26              AIUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
landed at Limestone she took her mystic flight to a better
world.  This was the first time I was privileged to see a
Christian die. Her faith was strong in the God of her
salvation; and while surrounded by her weeping friends,
whomn she affectionately addressed, and bidding them ahi
a last farewell, she repeated the following verse, and ther
sweetly fell asleep in Jesus:
"0, who can tell a Savior's worth,
Or speak of grace's power,
Or benefits of the new birth,
In a departing hour?
Come nigh, kind death;
Untie life's thread;
I shall to God ascend;
In joys I shall then with him dwellJoys that shall never end."
The recollections of this kind mother in Israel are still
fresh in my memory.  When a child she would frequently
take me into her closet, and there, while engaged in her
private devotions, like Hannah of old, she would lay her
hands on my head, and dedicate me to God. Her remains!
were committed to the dust in Maysville, and the Boew
Carey Allen, of blo, o..,iioi-y, preached her Iullt,,a
sermon. Tile impressions made on my youthful mind by
the prayers and invocations of my sainted grandmother
were never erased; and when the natural inclinations of
my depraved heart would have led me into infidelity, her
godly life and triumphant death would come to my recollection with irresistible power, and confirm  me in the
truth of Christianity.
In company with my father, and in his boat, there were
two missionaries-the Revs. Carey Allen and Robert
Marshall-and also Mr. Jarmes Walsh and Mr. Richard
M'Nemar, both of whom  afterward became ministers in
the Presbyterian Church. As soon as my father could
make the necessary arrangements, he removed his family
to the town of Washington, Mason county, Ky., and




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                 27
remained there during the winter. It was in this place that
I saw for the first time that great adventurer, Simon Ken,
ton. He was truly the master-spirit of the times in that,region of country. He was looked up to by all as the
great defender of the inhabitants, always on the qui vive,
and ready to fly at a moment's Warning to the place of
danger, for the protection of the scattered families in the
wimderness.  Providence seems to have raised up this man
for a special purpose; and his eventful life, and the many
wonderful and almost miraculous deliverances, in which he
was preserved amidst the greatest perils and dangers, are
confirmatory of the fact, that he was a child of Providence.
The Indians made great depredations duling the winter,
and stole almost all the horses, so that the farmers were,;carcely able to carry on their business.  In this posture
of affairs, Colonel Kenton, with a party of men, started
from Kentucky and went to Oldtown, now Chilicothe, for
the purpose of recovering them. Having succeeded, by
way of reprisal, in taking as many as they could manage,
they returned, and being pursued, when near the Ohio
river, they were overtaken, and the men and horses were
captured. Colonel Kenton was taken a prisoner to Lower
Sandusky, where he was tried by a council and condemned
to be burnt at the stake.  Simon Girty, a brave and daring white man, who had, on account of the cruel treatWent he had received from General Lewis, at Point Pleasant, Virginia, foresworn his race and been adopted by the
Wyandott nation, was, at that time, at Lower Sandusky.
Years before Kenton and Girtv had been bosom companions at Fort Pitt, and had served together subsequently in
the commencement of Dunmore's expedition. Girty had
just returned from an unsuccessful expedition in Pennsylvania against the whites, and was enraged by disappointment. Hearing that a prisoner was in the camp, condemned and already blackened for execution, he hastened




92             AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
to his presence; and, not recognizing Kenton, Le cum
menced abusing him in the most shameful and indignant
manner, eventually knocking him down. He knew that
the prisoner was from Kentucky, and the object of his
cruel treatment was to frighten him into a disclosure of
all he wished to know about the enemy. He inquired of
him in relation to the number of men there were in Kentucky. This the prisoner could not answer, but ran over
the names and rank of such officers as he could recollect.
Girtv then asked:
"Do you know William Stewart?"
"Perfectly well," replied the prisoner; "he is an old
and intimate acquaintance."
" Ah! what is your name, then?"
"Simon Butler;" for that was the name by which he
was previously known.
As soon as Girty heard the. name, he became strongly
agitated; and springing from his seat, he threw his arms
around Kenton's neck, and embraced him with much
emotion. Then turning to the assembled warriors, who
remained astonished spectators of this extraordinary scene,
he addressed them in a short speech, which the deep earnestness of his tone, and the energy of his gesture, rendered eloquent. He informed them  that the prisoner,
whom they had just condemned to the stake, was his ancient comrade and bosom friend; that they had traveled
the same war-path, slept upon the same blanket, and
dwelt in the same wigwam. He entreated them to have
compassion on his feelings; to spare him the agony of
witnessing the torture of an old friend, by the hands of
his adopted brothers; and not to refuse so trifling a favor
as the life of'a white man, to the earnest intercession of
one who had proved, by three years' faithful service, that
he was sincerely and zealously devoted to the cause of
the Indians.




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                 29
The speech was listened to in unbroken silence.  As
soon as he had finished, several chiefs expressed their ap.
probation by a deep guttural interjection, while others
were equally as forward in making known their objections.
to the proposal. They urged that his fate had already
teen determined in a large and solemn council, and that
they would be acting like squaws to change their minds
every hour. They insisted upon the flagrant misdemeanors of Kenton-that he had not only stolen their horses,
but had flashed his gun at one of their young men; that
it was vain to suppose that so bad a man could ever become an Indian at heart, like their brother Girty; that
the Kentuckians were all alike —very bad people-and
ought to be killed as fast as they were taken; and finally,
ihey observed that many of their people had come from a
distance, solely to assist at the torture of the prisoner, and
pathetically painted the disappointment and chagrin with
which they would hear that all their trouble had been for
nothing.
Girty listened with obvious impatience to the young
warriors who had so ably argued against a reprieve; and
starting to his feet, as soon as the others had concluded,
he urged his former request with great earnestness. He
briefly, but strongly, recapitulated his own services, and
the many and weighty instances of attachment he had
given. He asked if he could be suspected of partiality to
the whites? When had he ever before interceded for any
of that hated race? Had he not brought seven scalps
home with him from the last expedition? and had he not
submitted seven white prisoners that very evening to their
discretion?  Had he expressed a wish that a single one
of the captives should be saved?  This was his first and
should be his last request; for if they refused to him,
what was never refused to the intercession of one of their
natural chiefs. he would look unon himself as disgraced in




30             AUTOBIOGRAPrI   GP
their eyes, and considered as unworthy of confidence
Which of their own natural warriors had been more zealous than himself?  From  what expedition had he ever
shrunk? —what white man  had ever seen  his back?
Whose tomahawk had been bloodier than his?  He would
say no more. He asked it as a first and last favor, as an
evidence that they approved of his zeal and fidelity, that
the life of his bosom friend might be spared. Fresh
speakers arose upon each side, and the debate was carried
on for an hour and a half with great heat and energy.
During the whole of this time, Kenton's feelings may
readily be imagined. He could not understand a syllable
of what was said. He saw that Girty spoke with deep
earnestness, and that the eyes of the assembly were often
turned upon himself with various expressions. He felt
satisfied that his friend was pleading for his life, and that
he was violently opposed by a large part of the council.
At length the war-club was produced, and the final vote
taken. Kenton watched its progress with thrilling emotion-which yielded to the most rapturous delight, as he
perceived that those who struck the floor of the councilhouse, were decidedly inferior in number to those who
passed it in silence. Having thus succeeded in his benevolent purpose, Girty lost no time in attending to the comfort of his friend. He led him into his own wigwam, and
from his own store gave him a pair of moccasins and leggins, a breech-cloth, a hat, a coat, a handkerchief for his
neck, and another for his head.
In the course of a few weeks, and after passing through
some further difficulties, in which the renegado again
stood by him faithfully, Kenton was sent to Detroit, from
which place he effected his escape and returned-to Kentucky.  Girty remained with the Indians, retaining his
old influence, and continuing his old career; and four'var. after the occurrerces last retailed, in 1782, we find




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                 81
him a prominent figure in one of the blackest tragedies
that has ever disgraced the annals of mankind.  It is
generally believed, by the old settlers and their immediate
descendants, that the influence of Girty at this period,
over the confederate tribes of the whole north-west, was
almost supreme. He had, it is true, no delegated authority, and, of course, was powerless as regarded the final
determination of any important measure; but his voice
was permitted in council among the chiefs, and his inflaming harangues were always listened to with delight by the
young warriors. Among the sachems and other headmen, he was what may well be styled a "power behind
the throne;" and as it is well known that this unseen
power is often "greater than the throne itself," it may
reasonably be presumed that Girty's influence was, in
reality, all which it is supposed to have been. The horrible event alluded to above, was the burning of Crawford,
at Sandusky.
Simon Girty lived the inveterate enemy of his race, and,
in carrying out his fearful oath, grew more and more desperate in cruelty to the whites, till he was finally abandoned of God and man. He died a most melancholy
death, and went down as the traitor to an unhonored
grave.
Simon Kenton was the firiend and benefactor of his
race, and lived respected and beloved by all who knew
him. In the latter part of his life he embraced religion;
and it may not be improper here to relate the circumstances connected with his conversion. In the fall of 1819
General Kenton and my father met at a camp meeting on
the waters of Mad river, after a separation of many years.
Their early acquaintance in Kentucky rendered this interview interesting to both of them. The meeting had been
in progress for several days without any great excitement
till Sabbath evening, when it pleased God to pour out his




82            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
Spirit in a remarkable manner. Many were awakeneat
and among the number were several of the General's relatives. It was not long till their awakening was followed
by conversion. The old hero was a witness to these
scenes.. He had faced danger and death in every form
with an unquailed eye and an unfaltering courage, but
the tears and sobs of penitence, and the outbursts of rapturous joy from
"Souls renewed,
And sins forgiven,"
proved too strong for the hardy veteran. His neart was
touched, and the tear was seen to kindle the eye and star,
down the furrow of his manly cheek. Say not the man
of courage can not weep.
On Monday morning he asked my father to retire with
him to the woods. To this he readily assented, and, as
they were passing along in silence and the song of the
worshipers had died upon-their ears, addressing my father,
he said, "Mr. Finley, I am going to communicate to you
some things which I want you to promise me you will
never divulge." My father replied, "If it will not affecl
any but ourselves, then I promise to keep it forever." By
this time they were far from  the encampment in the
depths of the forest. They were alone; no eye could set
them, and no ear could hear them, but the eye and ear of
the great Omnipresent. Sitting down on a log, the Gen
eral commenced to tell the story of his heart and disclose
its wretchedness; what a great sinner he had been, and
how merciful was God in preserving him amid all the conflicts and dangers of the wilderness. While he thus unburdened his heart and told the.anguish of his sin-wounded
spirit, his lip quivered and the tears of penitence fell from
his weeping eyes. They both fell to the earth and, prostrate, cried aloud to God for mercy and salvation. The
penitent was pointed to Jesus as the almighty Savior; and




REV. JAMIES  B. FINLEY.                  33
after a long and agonizing struggle the gate of eternal- life
was entered, and
"Hymns of joy proclaimed through heaven
The triumphs of a soul forgiven."
Then from the old veteran, who immediately sprang to
his feet, there went up a shout toward heaven which made
the woods resound with its gladness. Leaving my father
he started for the camp, like the man healed at the Beautiful Gate, leaping, and praising God, so that the faster
and farther he went, the louder did he shout glory to God.
His appearance startled the whole encampment; and when
my father arrived he found an immense crowd gathered
around him, to whom  he was declaring the goodness of
God and his power to save. Approaching him, my father
said, " General, I thought we were to keep this matter a
secret!"  He instantly replied, "0, it is too glorious for
that. If I had all the world here I would tell of the
goodness and mercy of God!"
At this time he joined the Methodist Episcopal Church,
lived a consistent; happy Christian, and died in the open
sunshine of a Savior's love. If there is any one of all
the pioneers of this valley, to whom the country owes the
largest debt of gratitude, that one is General Simon Kenton. His body sleeps on the waters of Mad river, sbout
six miles north of Zanesfield, and
"When that winding stream shall cease to flow,
And those surrounding hills exist no more,
His sleeping dust reanimate shall rise,
Bursting to life at the last trumpet's sound;
Shall bear a part in nature's grand assize,
When sun, and time, and stars no more are found."
But to the narrative. Nothing transpired during the
winter, save occasional visits from the Indians, who stole
several horses and sometimes succeeded in taking a few
prisoners, one or two of whom were killed. NotwithBtanding the return of spring was dreaded, fearing it
3




34            AUTOBIO GRAP'HY OF
would be an occasion for great depredations on the part
of the Indians, it passed without any hostile invasion.
I will here give an account of the manner of administering justice in certain cases in those times. Almost all
ne w countries become places of refuge for criminals who
tlee from justice. Many of this description had fled from
the older states, and had taken up their abode in Kentucky. To provide against this, the Legislature of the
state passed what was termed the vagrant- act. It operated on this wise. When any person was found without
employment or any visible means of obtaining a livelihood, he was taken up, and after having been advertised
ten days, was sold to the highest bidder for for a short time,
say two or three months. All that was earned above the
necessary costs was'given to him at the end of service.
A good-looking and well-dressed man was found in the
town of Washington who had no employment. He was
taken up, and, on examination, found to be a gambler,
who was corrupting the morals of the youth. The magistrate informed him, if he did not leave the place in a short
time he would put the law in force against him. This
warning was entirely disregarded, and accordingly the
gentleman was taken up and sold to a blacksmith, who
chained him to the anvil-block and made him blow and
strike all day, and at night he was put in the county
prison. Thus he was obliged to do the honest though
hard work of blowing and striking till his term expired,
when he left for parts unknown, with a very bad opinion
of the law.
If such a law were put in force in our tuwns and cities,
the innumerable hordes of gamblers and loafers that infest
them would soon become as scarce as musketoes in midwinter.
When the fall of the year came, we found ourselves
scarce of provisions for the coming winter; yet we were




REV. JTrIES 13. FINLEY.              35
not, destitute of the never-failing staples of the back
woodsman; namely, hominy, buffalo, venison, and bearmeat; and any man can live well on these, and come out
fat and hearty in the spring.
In the spring of 1789 my father purchased some land
in the vicinity of Stockton's station, near where the town
of Flemingsburg now stands, and we removed into the
woods, three-quarters of a mile from the station.  This
was the frontier house of the settlement, there being none
between it and the Ohio river. The house was built of
round logs from the forest trees: the first story made of
the largest we were able.to put up; the second story of
smaller ones, which- jutted over two or three feet, to prevent any one from climbing to the top of the house. The
chimneys were built on the inside. The door was made
of puncheon slabs, six inches thick, and was barred on
the inside by strong iron staples driven into the logs on
both sides, into which were placed strong bars. In the
upper part of the house there were port-holes, out of
which we could shoot as occasion might require; and, as
no windows were allowed, they also answered for the purposes of light and ventilation.  The house for our colored
people was built in the same way, and immediately adjoining the one in which the family lived. My father
treated his slaves with great tenderness more like children than servants. He never punished one of them, to
my recollection.  They were all taught to read, and we
all joined together in praise and prayer to God. I have
often thought that slavery existed in my father's family
only in form, and that it was in the power of every master to enjoy all the benefits resulting from servitude, with.
out the evils too often, alas! connected with it.
Our houses being thus strongly constructed, and all of
us armed with a gun and plenty of ammunition, we were
always prepared for war. While some were engaged in




36             AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
working, others acted as sentinels. About the middle of
April the Indians paid a visit to our new home.  They
came in the night, while my father -was engaged in family
prayer, and rapped, with a wiping stick, three times on
the door.  The dogs barked most furiously, and the time
for prayer having ended, the time of watching having
come, every one of us seized our guns, and hastened to
our posts. The night was so dark, it was impossible for
us to discover any one. After some time all lthings be.
came quiet without, and some laid themselves down to
sleep, while others kept watch till welcome day dispelled
our fears. With great caution the door was unbarred
and opened, and, on examination, the tracks of three Indians were found as they passed over the newly-cleared
field. Believing it was the purpose of the Indians to steal
horses, and ours being in the woods, my father took his
rifle and went to hunt them. As he proceeded cautiously
on his way, he came to a ridge, on ascending which he
perceived a smoke rising up from the other side. Stealthily advancing, he saw the camp of the Indians, one of
whom was sitting up, and the other two were lying down.
He crept back slowly, and, taking another direction, he
soon found the horses, and returned home.  As soon as
he returned, he sent to the station to give the alarm. It
was considered best not to go out in quest of the Indians
that night, but that all should keep on the look-out, and
thus be prepared for them should they make an attack.
That night they took six horses, and started for the Ohio
river, which was distant about seventy miles.  Captain
Cassady immediately started in pursuit, and on the second day overtook them; but, fearful of the consequences,
they left the horses, and fled with such celerity that they
were not overtaken.
During the summer they stole several horses and killed
a few persons, but made no formidable attack on any




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                3T
house or station. We were visited again by the Indians
the following spring. It was the time of sugar making.
It was in the night, and we were boiling sugar water.
The distance of our camp from the house was about forty
rods. All at once we were startled by what we supposed
to be the hooting of several owls, and shortly after we
heard a low whistle from a charger. The obvious design
which we gathered from these movements, was that they
intended to surround us. My mother, who was with us,
being accustomed to Indian strategy and warfare, was not
in the least intimidated; beside she had passed through
too many dark and bloody scenes to be faint-hearted.
Approaching the colored man, she said, "Indians!  Stand
behind that tree; let the fire burn till you think we have
reached home; then throw a bucketful of water on the
fire, slip out in the dark, and run home as soon as you
can."  The faithful servant obeyed all these directions;
and the Indians, being thwarted in their purposes, reconnoitered the houses. My father being absent from home,
mother assumed the command, and, directing all to their
posts, told us to stand firm, and not fire a gun till we were
sure of our mark. The dogs set up a howl, as if they
were frantic, till about midnight, when all became quiet.
The Indians passed-on to another settlement, where they
took a prisoner and several horses, and then started foi
the river.
The ever-vigilant Captain Cassady, with his minutemen, were soon on the trail, and urged the pursuit so
hotly, that on the second day they came on them so suddenly, that they fled, leaving their prisoner, and receiving
the fire of the whole party. They made their escape with
their wounded, and the company returned.
An event occurred about this time, of a most melancholy character, and which threw a gloom over the whole
community. A young man, who was employed as a spy,




38            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
and was, of course, dressed like an Indian, in coming into
the station, saw a young lad with his gun coming toward
him. He ran behind a tree, and made a noise like an Indian, for the purpose of frightening the boy. The boy,
on seeing this, and supposing him to be a veritable Indian, also took to a tree. When the spy looked out from
his retreat, to see the boy run, the boy, who was on the
wvatch, instantly fired, and the unfortunate spy fell dead
on the spot. A similar occurrence came very near hap.
pening with myself. One of our neighbors, named Jack
Williams, had been out to watch a deer-lick. Seeing me
coming on a cow-path, for the purpose of alarming me,
he jumped behind a tree and gave an Indian whoop, supposing I would run. I drew up my gun, and would have
shot him if he had not cried out for quarters, in honest
old Anglo Saxon. He was much alarmed, and was doubt+
less satisfied that it was entirely too hazardous to repeat
the trick.
We all lived in constant danger, and exposed to death;
and although there were spies constantly ranging between
the settlements and the Ohio river, from Limestone to Big
Sandy, yet the Indians would come in undiscovered, and
kill our friends, and steal the horses. We had to depend,
for our daily living, on the hunters, and what we could
kill ourselves of the wild game.  This gave me an early
love for the chase, which grew with my growth and
strengthened with my strength, till I had almost, at the
age of sixteen, become an Indian in my habits and feelings. The country was infested with wolves, and they
were remarkably daring and impudent.  They would attack grown cattle, and kill colts and two-years old cows.
While hunting the cows one morning in the woods, in
company with a lad a little older than myself, we heard a
cow bellowing at a piteous rate; and, supposing it was Indians trying to decoy us, we crept up with the tread of a




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                 39
~at, and, from the top of the ridge, looked over and saw
five wolves hanging on to a large cow, while she was
struggling to free herself, and aiming for home. As she
came toward us, we took the best position we could, and
waited their arrival. We fired by concert, killing two,
and wounding a third. The wolves instantly loosed their
hold, ran a few paces, and set up a terrible howl. Fearing a fresh supply of this ferocious animal, we ran home,
and returning with help, to see what was done, we found
two, and tracked the other by its blood some distance.
Such were the dangers and hardships to which we were
constantly exposed, that my father sold out his possessions, and removed to Bourbon county, and settled on
what was then called the Cane Ridge. This was in the
spring of 1790.
The land purchased by my father was a part of an unbroken cane-brake extending for twenty miles toward what
was called the Little Mountain. We had to cut out roads
before we could haul the logs to build our cabins. The
cane was so thick and tall, that it was almost impossible
for a horse or cow to pass through it. We first cut the
cane, and gathered it into piles to be burned. This was
herformed by a cane-hoe.  Th.e next thing was to plow,
which was done by first cutting the cane roots with a
coulter fastened to a stock of wood, which was called the
blue boar. This turned no furrow; and hence it was necessary to follow it with the bar shear, which turned over
the sod.
My father had two congregations, one at this place
and the other at Concord, both of which were prosperous.
Many were gathered into the Church and devoted to religion.
Here my father opened a high school,, in which was
taught the languages as well as the higher branches of
all Erglish oducation.  It was the first school of the kind




40            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
in the state; and ten or twelve young men were eduw
cated here who afterward became Presbyterian preachers.
Judges Trimble and Mills here learned their first grammar lesson. This institution flourished for a number of
years. The subject of education was of great importance
in the early settlement of the country; but its importance
increases in proportion to its growth and advancement
The mind of man on his entrance into our disordered
world, is destitute of knowledge of every kind, but is capable of vast aequirements and prodigious expansion;
and on this his happiness and usefulness depend. But it
must be acquired by education; and whatever opens the
door to facilitate this object, will be productive of the
greatest good, both to the individual and the community
at large. The expansion of the mind makes the man,
therefore, this gem of the greatest value ought, to be
sought after with interest by the whole mass of mankind;
and, instead of pursuing, with so much avidity, the things
which belong to the body, and are only calculated to gratify the animal passions and appetites, and alone to promote that kind of happiness which is the lowest of which
man is capable, the whole world, and every man and
woman in it, ought to regard the improvement of the
mind as the most valuable acquisition within their grasp,
both for here and hereafter. It was the purpose of God,
in the very constitution of the human mind, that he should
be wise; and that in this consists alone his true greatness
and unending, consummate felicity. On this depends the
happiness of social intercourse, the enjoyments of all civil
and religious privileges, the advancement in the arts and
sciences, and the commerce of the world. Indeed, it raites
man from the common level of a beast and brutish enjoy.
ments, to the exalted dignity of a rational being. Is it
aot for a want of a proper conception of the great worth
of the improvement of the mind, that it is so much neg



REV. JAMIIES B. FlNLEY.              41
lected, and so little sought after? Ignorance, like a deep
*,nd dark cloud, has hung over the mind of man, and has
obscured the brilliant rays of this hallowed intellectual
sun; and but few in the world, comparatively, have felt
its warming rays, or seen the glory of its brightness;
and vet it is within the, reach of all, in a greater.or less
degree.
Every good man, every lover of his country, every bad
man ought to use his influence to encourage and sustain,
with his property and by the education of his children,
every effort to banish the cursed monster ignorance from
our happy country. A man may boast of his patriotism,
and his exceeding great love of our free and happy institutions, but if he neglects to lend his aid to the work
of education, he does most emphatically contradict, by his
conduct, his profession, and, like all other such men, may
justly be branded with the disgraceful appellation of hypocrite. Will men make this boast loud and vociferous:
look at their children at home; and, when not yoked up,
like their oxen, to work, they are running at large, and
r.ot the least attention paid to the improvement of their
nairds. If they can have the benefit of a public school
for three months in the.winter, it is very well; for, at this
time of year, they have no use for them, and it costs
them nothing to send them to school. Now, my friend,
let me ask you a question: Which would you rather see:
your son go out into the world with the attainments of a
good, sound, English education, and be able to associate
with the wise, and good, and great; or set him down on a
farm a novice, and, in point of intelligence, but a very
little above the horse he plows with?  If you prefer the
last, I pity both you and your children. If you have any
thing to give your children, do, for their sakes and for
the sake of society, put some of it into their heads; for
you would feel much better to see your son or daughter




42             AUTOBIOGRAPHY  O0
poor, but wise, than to see him a rich fool, the butt and
ridicule of society. And let me ask the parents, what
kind of a man do you think he would be, who would
marry your daughter, if a rich fool; or how mean must
the man be, that would marry a fool for her riches?
Make them intelligent, for men of intelligence will seek
such for their companions through life.
The facilities for education are now opening in almost
every part of the country, and this invaluable fortune for
your children can now be had on easy terms. Embrace
it; do not curse your offspring with being the dupes and
servants of their better-educated fellow-citizens. An ignorant man must always remain a Liliput in intellect, and
a Tom-Thumb-being in society, comparatively speaking. A few years since, when the subject of instruction
was enjoined on our people from the pulpit, the excuse
then was, "We have no institution of our own; none convenient." Now we have gotten up several, and the hard
times is now the grand excuse; so there seems to be a
lack of disposition. Reflect soberly on this mighty question, and decide on the side of duty, and not of dollars
and cents; for it does appear to me, that if a poor man
could be justified for theft on any principle whatever, it
wculd be to steal to educate his children.




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                 48
CHAPTER II.
CHARACTER OF THE BACKWOODSMAN.
I DEEM it proper, before proceeding further with my
narrative, to give the reader an account of some of the
early settlers of the western country, denominated backwoodsmen. On this subject I hope my readers will pardon me, should they think I indulge in a too highlywrought eulogy of their character. I am well aware that
those who are not acquainted with the scenes and circumstances of those early days, will be disposed to regard a
description of the deeds of daring and the heroism  displayed by the hardy pioneer, as the product of an exuberant fancy instead of plain, unvarnished matter of fact.
To relieve the mind of the reader on this point, I will
here state that nothing shall be chronicled by me which is
not a veritable history of my life and times.  "Truth
needs not the foreign aid of ornament;" and the facts
wthich I am prepared to communicate are many of them
more wonderful and interesting than fiction. I have no
doubt that had these pioneers lived in other ages, they
would have ranked with the deified heroes of antiquity.
The stream of immigration which continued to pour in
trom the older states into all parts of the western country,
roused all the native jealousy of the Indians, and they
concentrated all their powers to keep the white man from
seizing their rich hunting-grounds and robbing them of
~he homes and graves of their fathers. Every Indian
swore his child upon the altar of eternal hatred to the
white man. So constant, persevering, and daring were




44            XU I O  AUTOBIOG R APHY OF
the attacks of the Indians upon the frontier settlements,
that all the force which could be raised was not sufficient
to repel their invasions.
It was found to be absolutely necessary to change the
policy from that of a defensive to an offensive war. Accordingly, General Washington raised an army for the
purpose of carrying the war into the enemy's country.
The command of this army was given to General Harmar.
The history of this ill-fated campaign I shall not stop here
to relate; suffice it to say, that it only served to whet the
appetite of the Indians and give them a keener relish foi
deeds of revenge and cruelty.  Soon after followed the
defeat of St. Clair, which added fuel to the flames; and
the Indians, flushed with success and full of hope of being
able finally to drive the white man from their huntinggrounds, made the conflict desperate indeed. It was a
day of gloom and darkness to the white population, and
it seemed doubtful which would gain the mastery.  Hundreds of the early settlers and their families were butchered by the Indians. Many who retired for the night
were surprised and murdered, and the glare of their burning habitations, shooting up amid the darkness, told the
surrounding settlements of the work of death.
To prevent this state of things, and as the only way to
be secure from the surprise of the savages, the choicest
men of the country were selected as spies. Men of the
greatest integrity, courage, and activity, and who were
well skilled in all the modes of savage warfare, were
chosen, and among the number I will mention the names
of William Bennet, Mercer Beason, Duncan M'Arthur,
Nathaniel Beasley, and Samuel Davis. These men were
dressed like Indians. They were to guard the passes of
the Ohio from Maysville to Big Sandy. While some of
these were passing up the river between these two points
others were coming down, so that it was almost impossible




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                 45
for the Indians, in any considerable numbers, to cross
over from the Ohio side without discovery.  When they
did cross the river, the settlements were apprised of the
fact and put on their guard. These sentinels often encountered  great hardship and dangers.  The ordeals
through which they passed were abundantly sufficient to
test the courage of the stoutest heart.
On one occasion M'Arthur and Davis stopped at the
mouth of the Scioto river, where Portsmouth now stands,
and went across the bottom  to watch a deer-lick, well
known, near the foot of the hill. It was a foggy morning,
and an object could not be discerned distinctly fifty yards
off. M'Arthur stopped and Davis crawled up to the lick
with the stealth of a cat. When he straightened himself
up to look into the lick, instantly he heard the sharp crack
of a rifle, the ball of which whistled by his head. The fog,
together with the smoke of the gun, prevented the Indian
from seeing whether he had effected his object. Without
moving out of his place, Davis raised his gun and the
moment the Indian stepped out of the smoke of his rifle he
fired, and the savage fell dead in his tracks. M'Arthur
knowing that the firing was in too quick succession to be
made by one person, ran up to the spot; but no sooner
had he reached it than they heard the yell and rush of
many Indians. They instantly started for the river, and
being covered, in their retreat, by the dense fog, they
reached their canoe and darted out into the stream.
Some time during the next season, M'Arthur went to
watch the same lick. He had not been seated long in his
blind till two Indians made their appearance and were
coming directly toward him.  As the best and safest
course he chose the boldest, and with a firm nerve and
steady aim he fired. Whiz went the ball, and down fell
one of the Indians.  The other, instead of running, stood
still. Several other Indians, hearing the report of the




46             AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
gun, came running to the lick, whereupon M'Arthut
sprang fiom his hiding-place and bounded away. As he
ran they fired upon him, and one of the balls striking his
powder-horn, drove the splinters into his side. Not seeing
him fall, they started in hot pursuit. Being exceedingly
fleet-footed, he distanced them so far that they slackened
their pace.  He aimed his course for the river, and finding his faithful companion waiting for him they pushed
out into the sfream. Scarcely had they reached the middle of the stream  ere they were saluted with the yell of
the savages on the bank. Fearing they might be fired
upon, they redoubled their energy, and the swift canoe
sped over the surface like a bird. They soon were out of
the gunshot of the enemy, and reached in safety the
other shore.
As a further illustration of a backwoods life, I will here
give the reader an account of some deeds of noble daring
which occurred in Ohio:
As early as the year 1790 the block-house and stockade above the mouth of the Hockhocking river was a.
frontier post for the hardy pioneers of the North-western
territory.  There nature was in her undisturbed liveryi
of dark and thick forests, interspersed with green and
flowing prairies.  Then the forest had not heard the sound
of the woodman's ax, nor the plow of the husbandman.
opened the bosom of the earth. Then the beautiful prairies waved their golden bloom to the God of nature; and
among the most luxuriant of these were those which lay
along the Hockhocking valley, and especially that portion
of it on which the town of Lancaster now stands.. This
place, for its beauty, its richness of soil, and picturesque:
scenery, was selected as a location for an Indian village.
This afforded a suitable place for the gambols of the In
dian sportsman, as well as a central spot for concentrating
the Indian warriors.




REV. JA-MES B; FINLEY.                41
Here the tribes of the' west and north met to counsel,
and from  this spot led forth the war-path in different
directions.  Upon one of those occasions, when the war
spirit moved mightily among those sons of nature, and
the tomahawk leaped in its scabbard, and the spirits of
their friends, who had died in the field of battle,- visited
the warrior in his night visions and called loudly for
revenge, it was ascertained at the garrison above the
mouth of the Hockhocking river, that the Indians were
gathering in great -numbers for the Ipurpose of striking a
blow on some post of the frontiers.  To meet this crisis,
two of the most slkilled and indefatigable spies were dispatched to watch their movements and report. White
and M'Cleland, two spirits that never quailed at danger,
and as unconquerable-as the Lybian lion, in the month of
October, and on one of those balmy days of Indian summer, took leave of their fellows and moved on through
ithe thick plum and hazel bushes with the noiseless tread
of the panther, armed with their unerring and trusty
rifles. They continued their march, skirting the prairies,
till they reached that most remarkable prominence, now
known by the name of Mount Pleasant, the western termination of which is a perpendicular cliff of rocks of some
hundreds feet high, and whose summit, from a western
view, towers to the clouds and overlooks the vast plain
below. When this point was gained, our hardy spies
held a position from which they could see every movement
of the Indians below in the valley. Every day added a
new accession of warriors to the company.  They witnessed their exercises of horse-racing, running foot-races,:
jumping, throwing the tomahawk, and dancing —the old
sachems looking on with their Indian indifference, the
squaws engaged in their usual drudgery, and the children'n their playful gambols. The arrival of a new war-party:
was greeted with terrible shouts, which, striking the mulal-:




48             AtUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
face of Mount Pleasant, were driven back in the various
indentations of the surrounding hills, producing reverbera.
tions and echoes as if ten thousand fiends were gathered
at a universal levee. Such yells would have struck terror
to the hearts of those unaccustomed to Indian revelry.
To our spies this was but martial music-strains which
waked their watchfulness, and newly strung their-veteran
courage.  From their early youth they had been always
on the frontier, and were well practiced in all the subtilty,
craft, and cunning of Indian warfare, as well as the ferocity and bloodthirsty nature of these savage warriors.
They were, therefore, not likely to be insnared by their
cunning, nor without a desperate conflict to fall victims to
their scalping-knives or tomahawks.  On several occasions, small parties left the prairie and ascended the mount
from the eastern side.  On these occasions the spies would
hide in the deep fissures of the rocks on the west, and
again leave their hiding-places when their uninvited and
unwelcome visitors had disappeared.
For food they depended on jerked venison and corn
bread, with which their knapsacks were well stored.
They dare not kindle a fire, and the report of one of their
rifles would bring upon them the entire force of the Indians. For drink they depended on some rain-water which
still stood in the hollows of some of the rocks; but in a
short time this store was exhausted, and M'Cleland and
White must abandon their enterprise or find a new supply.
To accomplish this most hazardous enterprise, M'Cleland,
being the oldest, resolved to make the attempt; and with
his trusty rifle in his hand and their two canteens strung
across his shoulders, he cautiously descended, by a circuitous route, to the prairie, skirting the hills on the north,
and under covert of the hazel thickets he reached the
river, and turning a bold point of a hill, he found a beautiful spring within a few feet of the river, now known by




REV. JATMES B. FINLEY.               49
the name of the Cold Spring, on the farm of D. Talmadge,
Esq. He filled his canteens and returned in safety to his
watchful companion. It was now determined to have a
fresh supply of water every day, and this duty was performed alternately.
On one of these occasions, after White had filled his
canteens, he sat a few moments watching the limpid element as it came gurgling out of the bosom of the earth,
when the light sound of footsteps caught his practiced ear,
and upon turning round he saw two squaws within a few
feet of him. Upon turning the jut of the hill, the eldest
squaw gave one of those far-reaching whoops peculiar to
Indians. White at once comprehended his perilous situation. If the alarm should reach the camps or town, he
and his companion must inevitably perish. Self-preservation compelled him to inflict a noiseless death on the
squaws, and in such a manner as, if possible, to leave no
trace behind. Ever rapid in thought and prompt in action, he sprang upon his victims with the rapidity and
power of the lion, and grasping the throat of each sprang
into the river. He thrust the head of the eldest under the
water. While making strong efforts to submerge the
younger, who, however, powerfully resisted him, and
during the short struggle with this young athletic, to his
astonishment she addressed him in his own language,
though in almost inarticulate sounds. Releasing his hold
she informed him that she had been a prisoner for ten
years, and was taken from below Wheeling, and that the
Indians had killed all the family, and that her brother and;
herself were taken prisoners, but he succeeded, on the
second night, in making his escape. During this narrative White had drowned the elder squaw, and had let hei
float off with the current, where it would not probably be
found out soon. He now directed the girl to follow him,
and witQ his usual speed and energy pushed foi the
4




3bGX UTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
mount.  They hiad scarcely gone half way when they
heard the alarm  cry some quarter of a mile down the
stream. It was supposed some party of Indians, returning from hunting, struck the river just as the body of the
squaw floated past. White and the girl succeeded iL
reaching the mount, where M'Cleland had been no indifferent spectator to the sudden commotion among the Indians. The prairie parties of warriors were seen immediately to strike off in every direction, and White and the
girl had scarcely arrived before a party of some twenty
warriors had reached the eastern acclivity of the mount,
and were cautiously and carefully keeping under cover.
Soon the spies saw their swarthy foes as they glided from
tree to tree and rock to rock, till their position was surrounded, except on the west perpendicular side, and all
hope of escape was cut off. In this perilous condition,
nothing was left but to sell their lives as dear as possible,
and this they resolved to do, and advised the girl to escape
to the Indians and tell them she had been taken prisoner.
She said, " No! death to me, in the presence of my own
people, is a thousand times sweeter than captivity and
slavery.  Furnish me with a gun, and I will show you I
can fight as well as die.  This place I leave not. Here
my bones shall lie bleaching with yours, and should either
of you escape you will carry the tidings of my death to
my few relations."  Remonstrance proved fruitless.  The
two spies quickly matured their plan of defense, and vigorously commenced the attack from the front, where, from
the very narrow backbone of the mount, the savages had
to advance in single file, and without any covert. Beyond
this neck the warriors availed themselves of the rocks and
trees in advancing, but in passing from one to the othei
they must be exposed for a short time, and a moment's
exposure of their swarthy forms was enough for the unerring rifles of the spies.  The Indians being entirely




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                51
ignorant of how many were in ambuscade, made them the
more cautious how they advanced.
After bravely maintaining the fight in front and keeping the enemy in check, they discovered a new danger
threatening them. The arch foe now made evident preparations to attack them on the flank, which could be most
successfully done by reaching an isolated rock lying in
one of the ravines on the southern hill-side. This rock
once gained by the Indians, they could bring the spies
under point-blank shot of the rifle without the possibility
of escape. Our brave spies saw the hopelessness of their
situation, which nothing could avert but a brave companion and an unerring shot. These they had not; but the
brave never despair.  With this impending fate resting.
upon them, they continued calm and calculating, and as
unwearied as the strongest desire of life and the resistance
of a numerous foe could produce. Soon M'Cleland saw a
tall and swarthy figure preparing to spring from a covert
so near to the fatal rock that a bound or two would reach
it, and all hope of life then was gone. He felt that all
depended on one single advantageous shot; and although
but an inch or two of the warrior's body was exposed,
and that at the distance of eighty or a hundred yards, he
resolved to risk all, coolly raised his rifle to his face,
and shading the sight with his hand, he drew a bead so
sure that he felt conscious it would do the deed. He
touched the trigger with his finger; the hammer came
down, but in place of striking fire, it broke his flint into
many pieces; and although he felt that the Indian must
reach the rock before he could adjust another flint, he proceeded to the task with the utmost composure. Casting
his eye toward the fearful point, suddenly he saw the warrior sti tching every muscle for the leap; andwith the
agility of the panther he made the spring, but instead of
reaching the rock, he gave a most hideous yell, and his




52            AUTOBIOGRAPtHY  OF
dark body fell and' rolled down the steep into the valley
below. He had evidently received a death shot from some
unknown hand. A hundred voices re-echoed, from below,
the terrible shout. It was evident that they had lost a
favorite warrior as well as being disappointed, for a time,
of the most important movement. A very few minutes
proved that the advantage gained would be of short duration; for already the spies caught a glimpse of a tall,
swarthy warrior cautiously advancing to the covert so
recently occupied by his fellow-companion. Now, too,
the attack in front was renewed with increased fury, so as
to require the incessant fire of both spies to prevent the
Indians from gaining the eminence; and in a short time
M'Cleland saw a warrior making preparations to leap to
the fatal rock. The leap was made, and the Indian turning a somerset, his corpse rolled down the hill toward his
former companion. Again an unknown agent had interposed in their behalf. This second sacrifice cast dismay
into the ranks of the assailants, and just as the sun was
disappearing behind the western hills the foe withdrew for
a short distance, to devise some new mode of attack. This
respite came most seasonable to our spies, who had kept
their ground and bravely maintained the unequal fight
from nearly the middle of the day.
Now for the first time was the girl missing; and the
spies thought that through terror she had escaped to her
former captors, or that she had been killed during the
fight; but they were not long left to conjecture.  The girl
was seen emerging from behind a rock and coming to them
with a rifle in her hand. During the heat of the fight she
saw a warrior fall who had advanced some distance before
the rest, and while some of them- changed their position
she resolved at once, live or die, to possess herself of his
gun and ammunition; and crouching down beneath the
underbrush, she crawled to the place and succeeded in




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                 53.er enterprise. Her keen and watchful eye had early no.
iced the fatal rock, and hers was the mysterious hand by
which the two warriors fell; the last being the most
intrepid and bloodthirsty of the Shawnee tribe, and the
leader of the company which killed her mother and sisters, and took her and her brother prisoners.
Now, in the west, arose dark clouds, which soon overspread the whole heavens, and the elements were rent
with the peals of thunder. Darkness, deep and gloomy,
shrouded the whole heavens: this darkness greatly embarrassed the spies in their contemplated night escape,
supposing that they might readily lose their way, and accidentally fall on their enemy; but a short consultation
decided the plan; it was agreed that the girl should go
foremost, from her intimate knowledge of the localities,
and another advantage might be gained in case they
should fall in with any of the parties or outposts.  From
her knowledge of their language, she might deceive the
sentinels, as the sequel proved; for scarcely had they descended a hundred yards, when a low whist from the girl
warned them of their danger.  The spies sunk silently to
the ground, where, by previous engagement, they were to
remain till the signal was given, by the girl, to move on.
Her absence, for the space of a quarter of an hour, began
to excite the most serious apprehensions. Again she appeared, and told them she had succeeded in removing
two sentinels to a short distance, who were directly in
their route. The descent was noiselessly resumed, and
the spies followed their intrepid leader for a half mile in
the most profound silence, when the barking of a dog
at a short distance apprised them of new danger. The
almost simultaneous click of the spies' rifles was heard by
the girl, who stated that they were now in the midst of
the Indian camps, and their lives now depended on the
most profound silence, and implicitly following her foot



AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
steps.  A mcament afterward, the girl was accosted by s
squaw, from an opening in her wigwam: she replied in
the Indian language, and, without stopping, still pressed
forward.  In a short time she stopped, and assured the
spies that the village was now cleared, and that they had
passed the greatest danger.  She knew that every leading
pass was guarded safely by the Indians, and at once resolved to adopt the bold adventure of passing through
the center of the village, as the least hazardous, and the
sequel proved the correctness of her judgment. They
now steered a course for the Ohio river, and, after three
days' travel, arrived safe at the block-house. Their escape and adventure prevented the Indians from their contemplated attack; and the rescued girl proved to be the
sister of the intrepid Corneal Washburn, celebrated in the
history of Indian warfare, and as the renowned spy of
Captain Simon Kenton's bloody Kentuckians.*
Robert M'Clelan.d was afterward, in 1794, a spy in
Wayne's army; and few men were ever his equal in activity, courage, and enduring perseverance; and, as we
are giving specimens of the backwoodsmen, we will follow M'Cleland in the history of his life, as it was known
and narrated by others. Colonel John M'Donald, in his
Sketches of the West, and who was also a spy in Wayne's
army, and personally acquainted with M'Cleland, gives
the following account of him:
General Wayne, to secure his army from the possibil.
ity of being ambuscaded, employed a number of the best
woodsmen the frontier afforded to act as spies or rangers.
Captain Ephraim Kibby, one of the first settlers of Columbia, above Cincinnati, commanded the principal part
of the spies. A very effective division of the rangers was
*I am indebted to Gemlr'dl Sanderson, of Lancaster, for this interesting
narrative




REV. JA MES B. FINLEY.             55
commanded by Captain William Wells, who had been
talien prisoner by the Indians when a youth. He grew
to manhood with them, and was well acquainted with al.
their wiles and stratagems. About eighteen months previous to this campaign, he left them and returned to civilized life; he was well acquainted with several of their
languages, and could converse fluently. Attached to his
command were a few choice spirits. Henry Miller and
his brother Christopher had been both taken prisoners
when quite -young, adopted into an Indian family, and
reared up with them; and Henry lived with them till he
was twenty-four years of age. About this time, although
adopted into all their customs and manners, he thought
of making his escape, and returning home. This he communicated to his brother Christopher, and tried to persuade him to accompany him; but all his arguments were
ineffectual. Christopher was very young when made a
captive; he was now a good hunter, an expert woodsman,
and, in the full sense, a free and independent Indian.
Henry set off alone, and arrived safe in Kentucky.  Captain Wells was well acquainted with him during their captivity, and knew that he possessed that firm intrepidity
which would render him a valuable companion in time of
need. To these were added Messrs. Hickman, Thorp,
and M'Cleland. Colonel M'Donald says he was one of
the most athletic and active men on foot that has appeared on this globe. On the grand parade at Fort
Greenville, where there was a very little declivity, to
show his activity he leaped over a road-wagon with the
cover stretched over it. The wagon and bows were eight
feet high from the ground.  Captain Wells and his four
companions were privileged gentlemen in camp, and only
called on to do duty on certain special occasions, and when
on duty went well mounted. The headquarters of the
army being at Fort Greenville, in the month of June Gen



56            AUTOBIOGRIAPHY  O0
eral Wayne dispatcned Captain Wells, M'Oleland, and
Miller, with orders to bring into camp an Indian prisoner,
in order that he might interrogate him as to the futurc
intentions of the Indians. They proceeded with cautious
steps through the Indian country, crossed the St. Mary's,
and thence proceeded to the Auglaize river, without meet
ing any straggling Indian. In passing up the Auglaizf,
they discovered a smoke, and, dismounting, tied theii
horses, and proceeded cautiously to reconnoiter the enemy. They found three Indians camped on a high, open
piece of ground, clear of brush or underwood. They
found it would be difficult to approach within gunshot,
without being discovered. At a proper distance from
their camp, they saw the top of a tree which had been
blown down, and full of leaves. Believing this would
answer their purpose, and screen them from observation,
they returned, went round, and crept on their hands and
knees with the noiseless movement of the panther. The
Indians were engaged roasting their venison, talking and
laughing, not dreaming that death was stealing a march
upon them. Having arrived at the fallen tree, their mode
of attack was soon settled. They determined to kill two
of the enemy, and take the third prisoner. M'Cleland,
who was almost as swift on foot as a deer, was to catch
the Indian, while to Miller and Wells was confided the
duty of shooting the other two; one was to shoot the one
on the right, and the other the one on the left; and at
the sharp crack of their rifles, two fell; for their aim was
at the heart. Before the smoke of the powder had risen
six feet, M'Cleland was running at full stretch, with tomanawk in hand, for the Indian. The Indian bounded off
az the top of his speed, down. the river. But, contlnuing
in that direction, he discovered that M'Cleland would
nead him, and he turned his course. The river here had
a bluff bank, about twenty feet high. When he came to




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                57
the bank, he sprang down into the river, the bottom of
which was soft mud, and he sunk up to his middle. At
this moment, M'Cleland came to the top, and sprang on
him without hesitation. As they were wallowing in the
mire, the Indian drew his knife; M'Cleland raised his
tolmahawk, and told him to throw down his knife, or he
would instantly kill him. This he did, and surrendered
without further resistance. By this time, Wells and his
comrade came to the bank, and discovered that they were
both sticking in the mud. As the prisoner was now
secure, they went round and helped drag the prisoner out
of the mud, and tied him. He was very sulky, and refused to speak either English or Indian. One went for the
horses, while the other two washed the prisoner. When
washed, he turned out to be a white man, but still refused
to speak, or give any account of himself. After they had
scalped the dead, they set out, with the prisoner, to headquarters. While on their return, Henry Miller began to
admit the idea that it was possible the prisoner might be
his brother, whom he had left with the Indians some years
previous. Under this impression, he rode along side of
him, and called him by his Indian name. At the sound
of his name he started, and eagerly inquired how he came
to know his name. The mystery was solved; the prisoner was indeed Christopher Miller, his brother. A mysterious Providence appeared to have placed Christopher
Miller in a position by which his life was preserved. Had
he been standing on the right or left, he would have
been killed. When they arrived at camp, the prisoner
was placed in the guard-house.  General Wayne fre.
quently interrogated him; he continued sulky.  Captain
Wells and Henry Miller were constantly with him, and at
length prevailed on him to relinquish his thoughts of
returning to savage life, and to join with his brother and
white friends. He finally assented to their proposition,




bS8.dAUTOBIOGRAPHY  3OF
was released, and well mounted, and became one of
Wells's party.
As soon as Captain Wells and company had rested
themselves and horses, they were anxious foi another adventure with the red men. Time without action becomes
very irksome to such stirring spirits. Early in July they
again left Greenville. Their company was now increased
by the addition of Christopher Miller. Their orders were
to bring in prisoners  They pushed through the country,
all mounted, dressed, and painted in the best Indian style.
Near the Auglaize, they met a single Indian, and called
on him to surrender. This Indian, notwithstanding there
were six to one, refused to obey: he leveled his rifle, and,
as the whites approached, he fired, but missed his mark,
and took to his heels. The undergrowth of brush was so
thick, that he gained on them. M'Cleland and Christophel Miller dismounted, and M'Cleland soon overtook
him. The Indian, finding himself overtaken, turned, and
made a blow at M'Cleland with his rifle; and as M'Cleland's intention was not to kill, he kept him at bay, till
Miller came up; then they closed in on him, and made
him prisoner. They then returned to headquarters, at
Fort Greenville. Their prisoner was a powerful Pottawatamie cenef, whose prowess and courage were scarcely
equaled. As Christopher Miller had acted his part on
this occasion to the satisfaction of his comrades he had,
as he merited, their entire confidence.
As it is not the intention to narrate all the acts of these
spies attached to Wayne's army, although it would be a
most interesting narrative to western readers, we have
selected a few of the adventures performed by Captain
Wells and his intrepid companions, and especially of Robert M' Cleland. History, in no age of the world, turnishes so many instances of repeated acts of bravery, as
were performed by the frontier men, especially of western




I'EV. JAMES B. FINLEY.              59
Pennsylvania, Virginia, and Kentucky; yet these acts of
desperation were so frequently repeated by numbers, that
they were scarcely noticed at the time as being any other
than the common occurrences of the day. There can be
no doubt that during General Wayne's campaign, Wells
and his comrades brought in not less than twenty prisoners, and killed more than an equal number. Desperate
as they were in combat, that bravery was only a part of
their merit, as the following circumstance will show:
On one of their tours through the Indian country, as
they came to the bank of the river St. Mary's, they discovered a family of Indians coming up the river, in a canoe.
They dismounted, and concealed themselves near the
bank of the river, while Wells went upon the bank, in
open view, and called to the Indians to come over; and,
as he was dressed like them, and could speak their languag- as well as themselves, and they not expecting an
enemy in that part of the country, without any suspicion
of danger, came over. The moment the canoe struck the
shore, Wells heard his comrades cock their rifles, as they
prepared to shoot down the whole company. But who
should be in the canoe but Wells's Indian father and
mother-with whom he had lived-and their children!
He called on his comrades, who were ready to pour the
deadly fire, to desist. He then informed them who these
Indians were, and solemnly declared that if any one did
injure one of them, he would put a ball through his head.
Ile said to his men, that that family had fed him when
hungry, clothed him when naked, and kindly nursed him
wher sick, and, in every respect, were as kind and affectiona s to him as they were to their own children. This
short, pathetic speech found its way to the sympathetic
hearts of his leather hunting-shirt comrades, although
they would have made but a shabby appearance, on being
introduced to a fashionable tea party, or into a splendid




60            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
ball-room, among polished grandees, or into a ceremonious levee, to pass through unmeaning becks, bows, and
courtesies. The present was a scene of- nature and gratitude. They all at once entered into their leader's feelings. There never was a truly-brave man who could
hold back his tear of sympathy at the joy, grief, or sorrow of his fellow-man. It is the timid coward who is
cruel when he has the advantage. These hardy soldiers
approved of the motives of their captain, threw down,
their guns and tomahawks, went to the canoe, and shook
hands with the trembling Indians in the most friendly
manner. Captain Wells assured his Indian friends they
had nothing to fear from them, and advised them, as General Wayne was coming with an overwhelming army, to
make peace, and his Indian father to take his family; and
get out of all danger. They then bid them farewell, and
they departed in haste. This act does honor to the riearts
of these desperadoes in fight, and shows largely that
real gratitude of heart which alone belongs to truly-brave
men.
Early in the month of August, when the main army
had arrived at the place where Fort Defiance was built,
General Wayne wishing to know the intentions and situation of the enemy, dispatched Captain Wells and his company to bring in another prisoner. The army now lay
within forty-five miles of the British fort at the mouth of
the Maumee river, and they would not have to travel far
till they would find Indians. As the object was to take
a prisoner, it was necessary for them to keep out of the
way of large parties. They went cautiously down the
Maumee till within two miles of the British fort, where
stood an Indian village. All being dressed and painted
as Indians, they rode into the village as if they had come
from the fort, occasionally stopping and talking with the
Indians in their own language,  N, suspicion was excited.,




'REV. JAMES:B. FINLEY.              61
tWle Indians believing they were.from a distance, and had
come to take part in the expected battle.
After they had passed the village some distance, they
met an Indian man and woman on horseback, who were
returning  from  a hunting expedition.  This man and
woman were made captives without resistance. They
then set off for headquarters. As they were proceeding
ulp the Maumee after dark, they came near a large encampment of Indians, who were merrily amusing themselves around their camp fires. Their prisoners were
ordered to be silent under pain of instant death. They
went round their camp with their prisoners till they got
half a mile above them, where they halted to consult on
their future operations.  After consultation they concluded to'tie and gag their prisoners, ride back to the Indian camp and give them a rally, in which each should
kill his Indian. This they did —rode boldly into the Indian camp and halted, with their rifles lying on the pommel of their saddles. They inquired when they had heard
of General Wayne and the movements of his arms? how
soon and where the battle would be fought? The Indians
who were standing around themr were very communicative, and without suspicion. At length an Indian, who
was sitting some distance from them, said in an undertone of voice, and in another tongue, to some who were
near him, that he suspected that these strangers had some
mischief in their heads. Wells overheard what was said.
and gave the preconcerted signal, and each fired his rifle
into an Indian not six feet distant. At this instant the
Indians arose with their rifles in their hands, and as soonl
as Wells and his party fired they wheeled and put spur's
to their horses, laying with their breasts on the horses
necks, so as to lessen the mark for the Indians to fire at.'rhey had not got out of sight of the camp fire till the
Indians shot at them. As M'Cleland lay close on his




62            AUrTOBIOGRAPItY  OF
hoise's neck he was shot, the ball passing under his shoult
der-blade and coming out at the top of his shtuldei
Captain Wells was shot through the arm  on which he
carried his rifle, and it fell.  The rest of the party or their
horses received no injury.
There was in this terrific encounter a display of confi
(lence and self-possession almost unparalleled. They had
escaped in so many desperate combats that they seemed
to be entirely insensible to danger. As they had no rivals
in the army, they aimed to outdo all their former exploits.
To ride into an enemy's camp and enter into conversation with them, without betraying the least appearance of
trepidation or confusion, shows how well their hearts were
steeled.  Their actions of real life even rival the fictions of
the Grecian poet.  Homer sends forth his invincible hero,
protected by the invulnerable panoply of Jupiter, to make
a night attack upon the enemy.  Diomede makes the successful attack upon sleeping foes. Not so with our western heroes. They boldly went into the midst of the
enemy while their camp fires were burning bright and
they were on the watch, and openly commenced the work
of death. After having performed this chivalrous act,
they rode at full speed to where their prisoners were tied,
mounted them on horses, and set off for Fort Defiance.
Wells and M'Cleland were severely wounded, and to
Fort Defiance, a distance of thirty-five miles, they had to
ride before they could rest or have the aid of a surgeon.
One of the party was dispatched at full speed for a guard
and surgeon.  As soon as the tidings of the wounds and
perilous condition of the spies reached the fort, without a
moment's delay a dispatch of the swiftest dragoons and a
surgeon were off to meet them. Suffice it to say, that
they arrived safely in camp, and the wounded recovered
in a short time; and as the battle was fought and a brilliant: victory won a few days after, these brave and daring




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                  63
spirits were not engaged in further hostilities. The war
with the Indians was closed with a lasting treaty of peace
in 1795.
It will be natural for the reader to wish to know what
became of those brave men-of Thorp, Hickman, and the
two Millers. Concerning these history is silent; but like
many other valorous backwoodsmen, if living, may reside
in some poor cabin in the far west, unknown and unhonored. The brave Captain Wells fell, during the last war
with England, on the 15th of August, 1812, near Fort
Dearborn, at the mouth of the Chicago river.  He was
slain in an unequal combat, where sixty-four whites were
attacked by upward of four hundred Indians.  He fell,
lamented by his whole country, and never fell a bolder or
more intrepid spirit.  Nothing more is heard of the
intrepid M'Cleland till 1812.  This hardy, brave, and active backwoodsman had returned to St. Louis from an expedition across the Rocky Mountains.  He had been to
the Pacific Ocean, at the mouth of the Columbia river.
Such a tour through uncultivated, unpeopled oceans of
prairie, and such labor through the tempestuous bursts of
storm, sleet, and snow that whirled in almost continual
tornadoes around the bights of frightful rocks which com,
pose these dreary mountains, where winter eternally reigns;
such a tour, I repeat, was equal to the daring genius of a
man like M'Cleland.
Washington Irving, in his Astoria, gives the following
description of M'Cleland. He says he was a remarkable
man. He had been a partisan under General Wayne in
his Indian wars, where he distinguished himself by his
tiery spirit and reckless daring, and marvelous stories were
told of his exploits.  His appearance answered to his
character.  His frame was meager but muscular; show-.ng strength, activity, and iron firmness.  His eyes were
dark, deep set, and piercing. He was restless, fearless,




64            AtATOBIIOGRAPHY  OF
but of impetuous and, sometimes, ungovernable temper
He was invited by Mr, Hunt, the partner of Jacob Astor,
to join the party for the mouth of the Columbia river
This he did, about four hundred and fifty miles up the
Missouri river, and for the special purpose of taking
revenge on a party of Indians that had robbed him and
his partner-Crooks-some time before. This robbery,
by the Sioux, was instigated by Emanuel Lisa, the leading partner and agent of the Missouri Fur Company.
This intelligence so roused the fiery temper of M'Cleland,
that he swore if he met with Lisa in the Indian country
he would shoot him on the spot-a mode of redress perfectly in unison with the character of the man and the
code of honor prevalent beyond the frontier.
I will close the history of this extraordinary man by
giving one more specimen of his character. In returning,
after sufferings almost indescribable, in passing across to
the mouth of the Columbia river, his fare was no better.
In company with Mr. Stewart and five others, they were
robbed of all their horses by the Blackfeet Indians, in the
fall of 1812, and had to combat all the perils of the journey on foot. On a certain occasion, to avoid coming in
contact with the perfidious savages, it was thought safest
by all but M'Cleland, to cross some stupendous mountains
than go round.  At this M'Cleland demurred; and notwithstanding the remonstrances of his comrades, he
turned a deaf ear and left them, and took his own way.
Some days after, when they passed the top of the mountain, they saw M'Oleland at a distance in advance traversing the plain, and whether he saw them or not he showed
no disposition to rejoin them. On the eleventh night after
they parted, they met with signs of that wayward and
solitary being, M'Cleland, who was still keeping ahead of
them  through those solitary mountains.  He had en
camped, the night before, on a small stream, where they




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                 65
t und the embers of the fire by which he slept, and the!emains of a miserable wolf on which he supped. The
i,ext day at evening, almost starved to death and with
no prospect of food, they stopped to encamp, when they
saw a smoke at a distance, which they hailed with joy,
hoping it was some Indian's camp, where they might
obtain something to prevent them from starving. They
dispatched one of their company to reconnoiter. They
waited till a late hour for his return.  On the next morning they set out early.  They had not traveled far till
they saw their comrade, whom they hastened to meet,
in hope he had obtained something for them to eat; but.,f this he had none.  The smoke had arisen from the fire
if M'Cleland, which had broken out while he was trying
lo catch some small fish. When the party reached the
place they found the poor fellow lying on a parcel of withered grass, wasted to a perfect skeleton, and so feeble he
could scarcely raise his head to speak. The presence of
his old companions seemed to revive him; but they had
no food to give him, for they were almost starved themr,elves. They urged him to arise and accompany them,
but he shook his head. It was all in vain, for there was
no prospect of relief, and he might as well die where he
was. After much persuasion they got him on his feet,
and while some shared the burden of carrying his rifle, he
was cheered and urged forward. After one or two days'
travel they succeeded in killing an old rundown buffalo
bull, which preserved the whole party from starving.
Suffice it to say, that the party sustained themselves
through the winter, and the next spring arrived safely at
St. Louis. From this M'Cleland returned to the wilderness, and there is no certain account of where or how he
died
Thus, reader, we have conducted you along with the
history of ore of those intrepid and fearless spirits who
5




66             AUTOBIOGRAPHY  oE'
were the pioneers of the vast west, and he is a good spee
ilr,en of all the rest. It will take many volumes to record
the daring deeds and the indescribable sufferings of those
who penetrated the vast wilderness which now has risen
to a mighty empire.  Their dauntless and daring spirits
have passed off unknown, unhonored, and unregarded; a
new race has followed after, who are now reveling in ali
the luxuries of the richest and most fertile spot on the
globe.
An anecdote is told of one of those adventurous tappers, who had been trapping and trading for some years
in the mountain passes, and came with his furs to St.
Louis. He sold all his peltry and buffalo-robes, and had
received three checks on the bank. He went into the
bank to draw his money. His dress and appearance were
those of a backwoods trapper, and the bank room being
filled with the gentry, they looked upon his greasy buckskin hunting-shirt and leggins as though they feared he
would touch them and spoil or soil their delicate clothing;
and after looking all round the room and its inmates, he
threw down his first check; this was cashed. He then
threw down his second, and then his third.  The gentlemen began by this time to look at one another, and the
cashier said, "Where are you from, sir?"  The trapper
replied, "Just from the moon, sir."  "How did you get
down, sir?"  "Why, I just greased my hunting-shirt, sir,
and slid down on a rainbow."
Here, gentle reader, permit me to record my testimony
with others, and say to you and to generations unborn,
that there never lived a nobler race of men on the green
earth, than those pioneers of the great valley of the Mis
sissippi, from Finley and Boone down to General William
Henry Harrison, who had the honor and glory of closing
Ltle long and bloody British and Indian war, which hadl
lasted for more than fifty years; and no man,, of any taste




REV. JAMES B. FIN'LEY.                 67
or gen;us, can read the accounts of the settlement of this
vast wilderness, and the daring deeds of valor displayed
by the first adventurers, without feeling the highest degree of admiration at their patriotism and unflinching perseverance.  While every young and true-heaited American will feel himself identified with them, and have a filial
regard for their memory, while he beholds them, like a
Boone, a Kentor, a Finley, and a Stewart, treading the
lonely desert, and braving the horrors of savage rage and
lury, amid the l distress of famine and war, he admires
their courage, and is interested with the thrilling accounts
and their narrow escapes from death, as well as their perseverance and toil in turning this most' delightful and
richest of all countries into the fruitful field and smiling
garden, and opening the way for millions of our race to
enjoy the inestimable blessings of religion and liberty.
No class of men ever acted more nobly, or conferred a
greater temporal blessing on posterity; nor did ever any
make greater sacrifices; danger, poverty, and death were
their constant companions. It is said by a wise man, that
ingratitude is a sin of greater magnitude than witchcraft;
and thousands now live at their ease, and roll in their
wealth, who can not feel toward those brave men as I do.
They stood, with gun and tomahawk in hand, between
our mothers and their children and the incensed and revengeful rage of the red man.  They were our guardians
from savage barbarity; their names were precious then,
and still are to those for whom they ventured their lives
and their all. In those days of blood and carnage all
were warriors. Our mothers, like the women of Amazonia,
were trained to war, and could handle the rifle with great
dexterity, and the children were trained up to be soldiers
from childhood. A boy ten years old was counted able
to carry arms, and fight; and at sixteen would enter the
regular service, one of this age was enlisted as a soldier




B8             AUTOBL TOGn RAPHY  OF
in the last war; his captain asked him, "John, can you
ride and carry a gun?"  "I can try, sir."  "Can you
shoot, John?"  "I can try, sir."'c Can you fight Indians, John?"  "I can try, sir," said the lad.  At one
time, when on a scouting party with his captain, they
were chased by a body of Indians, and crossing a prairie
one pressed them hard.  The captain said, "John, can
you light off,when we get to those woods and shoot that
Indian?"  He sprang from his horse, drew his rifle to his
face, and fired; down fell the Indian. After they arrived
at camp the captain called him up and said, "John, wher
I enlisted you, I was afraid that you would not stand fire,
but would run."  John said, " I am not one of that breed,
811r 




RE'V. JiAMKES B. FINLEY.             9
CHAPTER III.
LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS.
THE first settlers could not have sustained themselves,
had it not been for the wild game that was in the country.
This was their principal subsistence; and this they took
at the peril of their lives, and often many of them came
near starving to death. Wild meat, without bread or
salt, was often their food for weeks together. If they
obtained bread, the meal was pounded in a mortar, or
ground on a hand-mill. Hominy was a good substitute
for bread, or parched corn pounded and sifted, then
mixed with a little sugar and eaten dry; or mixed. with
water was a good beverage. On this coarse fare the people were remarkably healthy and cheerful. No complaints were heard of dyspepsia: I never heard of this
fashionable complaint till I was more than thirty years
old; and if the emigrants had come to these backwoods
with dyspepsia, they would not have been troubled long
with it; for a few months' living on buffalo, venison, and
good, fat bear-meat, with the oil of the raccoon and opossum mixed up with plenty of hominy, would soon have
effected a cure.
Their children were fat and hearty, not having been
fed with plum-pudding, sweetmeats, and pound-cake. A
more hardy race of men and women grew up in this wilderness than has ever been produced since; withl mole
common sense and enterprise than is common to those
who sleep on beds of down, and feast on jellies and preserves; and although they had not the same advantages




7,0            AVOtOIOGIAAPHt 0I
of obtaining learning that the present generation have,
yet they had this advantage-they were sooner thrown
upon the world, became acquainted with men and things,
and entirely dependent on their own resources for a living.
A boy at the age of sixteen was counted a man in labor
and hunting, and was ready to go to war; and now, one
of that age hardly knows the road to mill or market.
Their attire was in perfect keeping with their fare.
The men's apparel was mostly made of the deer's skin.
This, well dressed, was made into hunting-shirts, nantaloons, coats, waistcoats, leggins, and moccasins.  the
women sometimes wore petticoats made of this most common and useful article; and it supplied, almost universally, the place of shoes and boots. If a man was blessed
with a linsey hunting-shirt, and the ladies with linsey
dresses, and the children with the same, it was counted
of the first order, even if the linsey was made of the woQol
of the buflalo. On some occasions, the men could purchase a calico shirt; this was thought to be extra; for
which they paid one dollar and fifty cents or two dollars
in skins or furs.  And if a woman had one calico dress to
go abroad in, she was considered a finely-dressed lady.
Deer's hair or oak leaves was generally put into the moccasin, and worn in place of stockings or socks.  The
household furniture consisted of stools, and bedsteads
made with forks driven into the ground and poles laid on
these, with the bark of the trees, and on this beds made
of oak leaves, or cattail stripped off and dried in the sun.
They rocked their children in a sugar trough or pack-saddle. The cooking utensils consisted of a pot, Dutch oven,
skillet, frying pan, wooden trays and trenchers, and hoards
made smooth and clean. The table was made of a broad
slab. And with these fixtures, there never was a heartier,
happier, more hospitable or cheerful people.  Their interests were one, and their dependence on each other was




REVA. J AIMXES B. FIILEY.            71
indispensable, and all things were common. Thus united,
they lived as one family.  They generally married early
in life-the men from  eighteen to twenty-one, and thee
girls from sixteen to twenty.  The difficulties of commencing the world were not so great; and, as both parties
were contented to begin with nothing, there was no looking out for fortunes, or the expectation of living without
labor. Their affections were personal and sincere, which
constituted a chief part of their domestic happiness, and
endeared them to home. The sparkling log-fire in the backwoods cabin, the gambols of half a dozen cheerful, healthy
children, and the smiles of the happy wife and mother,
made an earthly paradise. Nothing could excite more
hilarity than a backwoods wedding. Most generally, all
the neighborhood, for miles around, were invited; and if
it was in the winter, there would be a log-heap or twc
somewhere near the cabin. Around these fires the men
assembled with their rifles; the women in the cabin; and
if there was a fiddler in the neighborhood, he must be
present at an hour stated.  The parson, if one could be
had, if not, the Justice of the Peace, called the assembly
together, then the couple to be married. After the ceremony was over, and all had wished the happy pair much
joy, then, if it could be had, the bottle passed round; the
men then went some to shooting at a mark, some to
throwing the tomahawk, others to hopping and jumping,
throwing the rail or shoulder-stone, others to running footraces; the women were employed in cooking. When dinner was ready, the guests all partook of the very best
venison, bear-meat, roast turkeys, etc. This being over,
the dance commences, and, if there is no room in the
cabin, the company repair to or near one of the log-fires;
there they dance till night, and then they mostly return
home; yet many of the young people stay, and perhapAs
taince all night on a rough puncheon floor, till the moc,




A UTOB1OGRAI' Ht oF
casns are worn through. The next day is the infair: the
same scenes are again enacted, when the newly-married
pair single off to a cabin built for themselves, withoui
twenty dollars' worth of property to begin the world with,
and live more happily than those who roll in wealth and
tortune.
I recollect, when a boy, to have seen a pair of those
backwoods folks come to my father's to get married.
The groom and bride had a bell on each of their horses'
necks, and a horse-collar made of corn-husks on each
horse, to pay the marriage fee. The groomsman had a
bottle of whisky in his hunting-shirt bosom. When they
had entered the house, the groom asked if the parson was
at home. My father replied that he was the parson.
Then said the groom, "May it please you, Mary M'Lain
and I have come to get married. Will you do it for us?"
" Yes," replied my father. "Well, then," said the groom,
"we are in a hurry."  So the knot was tied, and the
groomsman pulled out his bottle of whisky to treat the
company. He then went out, and took the collars off
the horses of the bride and groom, and brought them
in as the marriage fee; and soon after they started for
home, in Indian file, with the bells on their horses open,
to keep the younger colts which had followed them
together.
The manner in which the cabins were built, I have described elsewhere. The chimneys were built on the inside
of the house, by throwing on an extra log, three feet and
a half from the wall, on which to build the zhimney,
from this it was carried up with sticks and clay, to the
roof of the house, and some two feet above it. The whole
width of the house was occupied for a fireplace, and
wood ten or twelve feet long could be laid on; when
burned in two in the middle, the ends could be pushed
up, so as to keep a good fire through a long winter's




1RRt. JAMES B.  INtLEY.               M
night. When there was but one bed in the cabin, it was
no sign that you would not have a good night's rest;
for, after supper was over, and the feats of the day about
hunting were all talked over, the skins were brought
forth-bear, buffalo, or deer-and spread down before a
sparkling fire, and a blanket or buffalo robe to cover with;
and you could sleep sweetly as the visions of the night
roll over the senses, till the morning dawn announced the
approach of day. There were no windows, and but one
opening for a door; this was generally narrow, and the
shutter made of two slabs, or a tree split in two, then
hewed off to the thickness say of six or eight inches, then
set up endwise, and made with a bevel to lap over.
The fastenings consisted of three large bars, fastened to
staples in the walls.  The floor, if not of the. earth, was
of hewn slabs, and covered with clapboards. These cabins, if there was some care taken in putting down the logs
close together, and they were scutched down, would make
the sweetest and healthiest habitations that man can live
in. They are much healthier than either stone or brick
houses; and I have no doubt but that there is a greater
amount of health and happiness enjoyed by the inmates
of the former than the latter.
All the mills that the early settlers had, was the hominy block or a hand-mill.  The water-mills or horse-mills
were so far off, that it was like going on a pilgrimage
to get a grist; and besides the toll was so enormously
high —one half being required for grinding the other
half —that they preferred doing their own milling.
Almost every man and boy were hunters, and some of
the women of those times were expert in the chase.  The
game which was considered the most profitable and useful
was the buffalo, the elk, the bear, and the deer. The
smaller game consisted of raccoon, turkey, opossum, and
ground-hog.  The panther was sometimes used for food,




74            AUTOBIOGRAPRY 0f
and considered by some as good. The flesh of the wolf
and wild-cat was only used when nothing else could bhe
obtained.
The buffalo is of the kine species, with a.irge hump on
its shoulders, generally of a dun color, with short, thick
horns. The male buffalo is distinguished firom the female
by having a short mane. They go usually in large droves
or herds, feeding on cane in the winter. They frequent
salt-licks; and in going to and from these places they beat
large roads.
Buffaloes were abundant in Kentucky, and were used by
the first settlers as their most common food. They have
a very shaggy or woolly skin. The wool was often spun
and woven into cloth by the women; and sometimes it
was mixed with raccoon fur and knit into stockings, which
were very warm and serviceable. The fashionable clothes
cut out of the finest French and English broadcloths, and
made in such a style as to provoke the idea that they
were designed to invite instead of protect us fiom  the
chilling blasts of winter, would bear no comparison with
the warm and comfortable clothing which was worn at
that day.
After the wool was taken off, the hide answered a valu
able purpose.  Being cut into strips and twisted, it made
strong tugs, which were used for plowing. It was also
made into plow-lines, bed-cords, etc.  When dressed it
was made into shoe-packs, or a kind of half shoe and hall'
moccasin.  The way of hunting the, buffalo was In the
following manner: A company was formed, well supplied
with dogs and guns. Being mounted on horses, they
started for the woods. When a herd was found, one of
the company would creep up softly and fire into theil
midst; then the whole company would rush in upon them
with their dogs, which would throw them into confusion,
After all had discharged their pieces the dogs would attacm




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REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                   79
them; and while they were engaged in fighting with the
dogs, the hunters would have time to reload and pursue
the chase.  After the conflict was over they would return
and collect the spoil.  To enable- the horses to carry them,
they would take out the entrails and split them in two,
and then throw  them  over the pack-saddles and carry
them home.
The elk is of the deer or moose species.  It resembles
the deer very much in form, but it is much larger.  It
has large branching horns, which sometimes grow to an
enormous size.  To look at the forest of horns which they
carry on their heads, one would think it impossible for them
ever to make their way through the woods.  I have seen
these antlers so large, that when set up on their points a
man six feet high could pass under them without stooping.
The flesh of the elk is coarse and dark, like that of the
buffalo, but has a good taste; is nutritious and easily
digested.  This animal, like the buffalo, is gregarious in
its habits.  They go in large droves, and can be easily
taken if the leader is first killed by the hunter.  The
leader is, generally, some old doe. If the hunter is successful in finding her out and shooting her, the whole
drove is thrown into confusion and easily captured; but
if he be mistaken, on the first alarm  they bound away
with the velocity almost of lightning, and run three or
four miles in a straight line without stopping.  They are
very sagacious.  If an old buck is wounded he will fight
most desperately, and woe betide the man who comes
within the swing of his horns.  The skin of the elk serves
many useful and valuable purposes.
The bear seems to be sui generis, bearing no particular
resemblance to any other animal in this country.  They
are generally black, and when fat their skins are well covered with a loose fur.  The flesh of the bear is the most
delicious, as well as thile most nutritious, of any food.




s0            AUTOBIOGRAPHYV OF
When they are fattened on beech-nuts, the oil of this ani
umnl is the most penetrating of any in the world. The
bear seems to be an awkward, clumsy, inactive animal;
but this is far from being the case, as any one has reason
to know who has been chased by thcm. They can climb
the highest trees with great facility. When lean they can
run with great rapidity and fight with tremendous fury,
especially when wounded or bereaved of their cubs.
They will become immensely fat on good mast, so much
so that it is sometimes difficult for them to move very
quickly. When rendered thus unwieldy, they will, by a
peculiar instinct, seek some cave in a rock or hollow tree,
where they will hibernate; and about the latter part of
March, waking from their winter's sleep, they will come
forth to greet the opening spring.
Should they wake at any time during- the winter, they
will not leave their place, but suck their fore-paws till they
fall asleep again. After dissection, the alimentary canal
has been found to contain from one to two gallons of oil.
This oil is pure and unmixed. Various conjectures have
been given to account for the existence of this oil; but the
most plausible is, that it is taken up by the absorbent vessels and thrown into the canal for the purpose of supplying the wants of nature in the absence of food. If they
have young ones they will remain longer in and about
their winter quarters. When they come out they seek for
some green vegetablhs, especially for the nettle-weed,
which they take as a medicine for its purgative properties.
She bears have from one to three cubs. At first they are
quite small, not much larger than a kitten. They are
destitute of hair, and blind till about the tenth day. Of
all the young animals I have ever seen they are the most
uncomely. Notwithstanding their ungainly appearance,
the mother is tenderly attached to her cubs, and will pro
tect them to the last.




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                 81
Bears seldom go in droves or herds, except in the month
of August, at which time they are considered by the hunters as the most ravenous. The cubs usually stay with
their dams about a year, when they start out to seek a
living for themselves. These animals display a wonderful instinct.  They seem not only to be competent judges
of the best kind of mast, but they know exactly where to
find it. They will go as directly from one part of the
country to the other, in quest of food, as though they understood thoroughly its geography.  They act with vwdnderful concert; and if one bear finds a place where mast
is good and plenty, all in the woods will be apprised
of it in some way or other.  They all seem to start at
once, and no two of them together; but they all take the
same course and arrive at the same place.  They prefer
the beech-nut to any other food; next to this the chestnut and chestnut oak; then the acorn. If all these nuts
happen to be plentiful in one year, the hunter knows precisely where to go to find the game, as all kind of game
prefer the beech-nut. Should there be no beech mast,
then he must go to the chestnut, and if these fail, to the
white and black oak woods. These things form part of
the hunter's study.
These animals become very poor in the summer and
live on lesser animals, if they can take them, or upon the
wild honey which they take from the yellow-jacket or
Bumblebee.  They will turn over large logs in quest of
this food. The sting of the bees does not deter them,
especially if hungry. They will get all the honey, and
then hasten to a bear-wallow or a branch of water, and
throwing themselves into the same, will thus get rid of
their assailants. At this season of the year they attack
the swine, and have been known to carry off large hogs.
Sometimes they are defeated when they get into a drove
of hogs. Instead of running they will attack them, and
6




832           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
frequently bruin has to run for a tree to save his life
Once my comrade iin the woods heard a wonderful noise
among a gang of hogs, and they came running from al.
quarters, attracted by the grunting and squealing.  He
crept up softly to see what was the cause of all this commotion, and found that they had treed a bear, who had
stolen a pig firom the gang. He shot at the bear and
wounded him. Bruin, letting go all holds, fell to the
ground, whereupon a hot contest ensued, in which the
swine were victorious, tearing their enemy to pieces without mercy.  They were also very troublesome in our cornfields about roasting-ear time-entering them in the night
and destroying the corn. They sometimes attacked persons and killed them.  The hunter, or backwoodsman, for
all backwoodsmen were hunters, made his summer bacon
out of bear-meat.  He would take out the fat and salt itif he had salt-and then hang it up to smoke. The fat was
rendered into oil, which was put away in deer skins, neatly
and cleanly dressed, for the purpose. This oil served
many valuable purposes to the hunter, supplying the place
of butter and hog's lard. He could fry his venison and
turkey in it; and if he had neither of these, it was admirable sop for his corn-dodger; and when mixed with his
jerk and parched corn, was regarded as one of the greatest delicacies of a hunter's larder.
The bear is hunted with dogs, and if they are well
trained but few will escape.  They are remarkably afraid
of the dogs; and as they will attack them no where else
than at their hind legs, which are very tender, they tree
as soon as possible, and generally remain till the hunter
can come up and shoot them. Sometimes, however, they
will let go and fall fifty or sixty feet without doing themselves the slightest injury.  Often, when fat, they go to a
h!ole in a tree and must be sought for.  A well-trained
hunter can tell by the marks of the claws in the bark of




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                 83
the tree, whether the bear is holed or not. A tree or sapling is fallen and lodged against the one in which is the
bear. If a tree should be near, the hunter takes a long,
slim pole, attaches some spunk or rotten wood to it, climbs
up as far as the hole, and, igniting the end, sets fire to
the hole, which is filled with rotten wood. He then descends and gets his gun, and awaits the appearance of
bruin, who, being unable to stand the fire, rushes out in
great rage and meets his fate.
If he has made his den in the rocks, greater caution is
necessary; for if he should only be wounded, the hunter
must be prepared for a swift retreat or a single combat
with spear or tomahawk. These animals, in the fall, before the time of mast, climb up trees, pull in the limbs,
and gather the fruit, which is called lopping. Often the
hunter steals up and kills them; but if they should happen to see him before he fires they let all go and fall
down.
Some fifty-six years ago, one of the first emigrants to
Kentucky went out to cut a broomstick and saw a bear
lopping. He concluded he could kill it with his ax, and
crawling.up noiselessly to the root of the tree, he no
sooner arrived there than down came bruin at his feet.
Mr. M. immediately made a blow with his ax, but it was
dexterously warded off by the bear and wrested out of
his hands. The bear then seized him by the left arm and
disabled it. It then made an effort to seize him by the
face, but the intrepid hunter caught the nose of the bear
in his teeth and held him fast.  In the struggle he was
thrown down, but not disheartened; he thrust his thumb
into the eyes of the bear and gouged them both out of
their sockets. Bruin screamed most piteously, and soon
help came, when it was killed and the hunter relieved
friom his perilous position.  Some years after, some of
Mr M.'s frieids coming out to the west asked llim,




AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
~'How do you and the bears make it?" His reply was,
"They can't stand Kentucky play.  Biting and gouging
are too hard for them."
The deer is the most beautiful wild animal that roams
in American forests. They change their color three times
a year, and every winter they cast their horns. The color
they assume in the spring is red, in the fall it is blue, and
in the winter it is gray.  Their skins are the most valuable when in the red or blue. In the gray they are worth
but little..  The meat of this animal is the sweetest and
most easily digested of all animal food. Who does not
like venison? Besides, they are decidedly the cleanest of
all animals, living entirely upon vegetables.  No vegetable poison affects them, and they live all winter upon laurel. There is something exceedingly strange in their animal economy. They have no gall, and, therefore, do not
need this agent to digest their food.  They herd more in
the winter'than in summer. The does have seldom more
than two'fawns, whose skins are covered with white and
red spots.  They are careful to keep from their enemies,
which are many, and among which man is not the least.
The fawns have no scent by which they can be tracked by
the wolf or the dog; and as the dam leaves them when
very young, this constitutes a great preservative. When
they are hungry they bleat like a lamb, and the low wail
falling upon the keen and sensitive ear of the mother, she
hasten's to supply her young with food, which being accomplished she leaves them again.
About June they begin to follow the doe, and soon learn
to run from their pursuers. The dam is often decoyed
and shot by the crafty hunter, whose fawn-like bleating
brings her immediately into his presence. The deathdealing ball pierces the mother's heart, and the fawn is
left to perish without her care. In. giving this sound of
distress, it often happens that other animals seeking prey




THE DSRILI








REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                 87
are attracted by it, and, coming together, a terrible conilict ensues. The hungry panther and bear, or the bear
and wolf, meet in deadly conflict, and one or the other
calls a prey to the hunter who witnesses the scene.
Once, in company with my comrade, we were traveling
in the woods, and having a load of meat on our backs we
sat down to rest ourselves.  While we were resting, I said
to my companion, "John, these logs —having been newly
turned over-look as though a bear might be in the vicinity.  Suppose I bleat him up."  "Do," said. he. I then
made a noise like a fawn in distress, and soon we heard
the brush cracking. "Here he comes," said I, and, sure
enough, old bruin made his appearance.  Coming within
two rods of where we were standing, he rose upon his
hind feet, and placing his fore feet on a log looked all
around for his prey.  A ball from one of our rifles soon
dispatched him.
I have often brought wolves within gunshot in like
u anner.
But we are not done with the history of the (eer.  The
skin was manufactured into almost all kinds of clothing,
such as hunting-shirts, waistcoats, pantaloons, leggins,
petticoats, moccasins, sieves, wallets, and, sometimes,
shirts.  It was perhaps to the backwoods fiamilies the most
useful of all animals. The dressing of deer skins did not
require a long process. As soon as the skin was off the
deer's back, while yet warm  and green, was the best time
to begin the graining process, which was as follows: The
brains of the animal were dried on a board before the fire,
then they were put into a cloth and washed out in warm
water, which made a kind of suds, into which the skin
was put, and after being well rubbed was taken out and
wrung as dry as possible.  Then it was pulled and worked
over a board, made for the purpose, till it was dry. I!
was then taken again through the same process, with tlQ




88             AUTO BIOGR APHY  OF
exception that the brain water was stronger, and worked
till it became soft, when it was hung up and smoked with
rotten hickory wood for a short time, and was then ready
for use. The ladies had but little time to devote to making clothes for the gentlemen, and but little was required,
as the fashions were then as simple as the material out of
which the clothes were made.  They generally cut out
the garment with a butcher-knife and used an awl in the
place of a needle, and the sinews of the deer instead of
thread.  With this article the moccasins are always made
when they are made neatly, though sometimes they were
made with a whang cut from the skin. A hunting-shirt
made of this article will wear a long time. The huntingshirt is a very comfortable garment in cold weather, and
when worn awhile and well saturated with deer's tallow
or bear's oil, will turn the rain like a goose's back; and for
the brush and green-brier there is nothing so good.
The deer is taken by what is called still-hunting. Great
skill is necessary in being able to find out and accommodate one's self to the habits of this animal.  A skillful
hunter can generally tell by the weather and the direction
of the wind, where to go to find deer.  As they are very
watchful, it takes a noiseless step and a good look-out to
steal a march upon them. As they often go to licks,
hunters make blinds near by in which they conceal themselves.  A great many are killed at nighlt, being decoyed
by the light of a fire. For this purpose a fire is built in
the bow of a canoe, which is left to float down the stream.
The hunter can steer it directly toward them. The deec
on the shore, becoming fascinated by the light, will gaze
upon it till the canoe comes directly against them. This
is generally considered an unfair way of hunting, and it is
not used by the regular hunter.
The panther, though much dreaded, is a fearful animal,
and unless wounded will run at the first appearance of




z
I
I Ii
THE WOLF.








THE RACCOON.








KEV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                   93
man or (log, and will tree as quick as a cat. When sud
denly surprised, however, it is dangerous.  It is carnivorous, and makes prey of the lesser animals of the forest
When hunory it is exceedingly ferocious and ravenous,
and will attack a man.  Their proper mode of attack is
made by leaping fiom  a tree upon their victim.  They
select a tree near to a deer-lick or path, And watch till
they see the prey. When sufficiently near, with fearful
precision they spring from  their hiding-place upon the
back of their victim, and fastening their long claws and
teeth in the body, they hold them till they are exhausted
with pain and fatigue and yield to death. They watch
their prey, and will fight for it to the last.  Their flesh is
good to eat, and their skins, when well tanned, make good
razor-strops and tolerably good shoes.
The wolf is the most snceaking and thievish of all animals, and of the least use. He is seldom seen in the daytime, but prowls about and howls all night. He lives a
prey on the world, is remarkably cowardly, and will never
attack unless he has greatly the advantage, or is forced to
fight. The wolf, like all useless animals and obnoxious
things, is very prolific, and were it not for their almost
constant state of starvation, would soon fill the world.
They have a kind of instinctive dialect. When they have
been disappointed in seeking their prey, they will set up
the most terrific and hideous howling. One of them can
make such a chorus of howls as to make you think there
are a dozen.  Their skin is worth but little, except, it is
said, it ismgood for drum-heads; and their flesh is never
eaten, except by those who may be in a starving condition.
The raccoon is a valuable animal, both as an article of
food and for the fur.  Its color is grayish.  Its skin, ineluding, of course, the fur, in early times, was in good
demand, and the backwoodsmen used it as a kind of circulating medium in the absence of coin and bank notes,




94             AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
and it was universally current, always being considered a
lawful tender. Four coon-skins were considered a dollar,
and such were vastly more valuable thlan an Owl Creek
or Red Dog bank note, which often proved, to the possessor, to be of no more value than a rag. The coon is
domesticated with little labor, but he is quite mischievous
as well as cunning and shy.  Coons live on mast, and
sometimes on flesh.  They are great lovers of poultry,
and understand well the art of robbing a hen-roost.  They
are fond also, like the Frenchman, of frogs, which they
catch with great dexterity, and which they prepare for
their meals with all the nicety of an epicurean.  They are
fond also of corn, and will enter the field and help themselves bountifully.  Many were the sports, in an early day,
connected with coon-hunting.  They are a nocturnal animal, and hence they are hunted in the night.  Dogs, well
trained to the business, will find them and tree them.
When this is accomplished, the next thing is to cut down
the tree or send up some one to shake them off. Many
are the anecdotes that are told of coon-hunters.  A laughable one is related of a clerical friend of mine during his
younger days. He was out with a party one night coonhunting, and the dogs having treed an old coon, it was
determined, by the party, that our friend should'climb the
tree and shake him off, so that the dogs might catch him.
Accordingly he ascended, and stealing softly from branch
to branch, in search of the coon, he finally espied him
snugly ensconsed on one of the topmost branches, a somewhat interested spectator of the scene which was transactin;g below.  Proceeding cautiously, he reached the limb
below that on which was the coon. Raising himself'ap
for the purpose of reaching the limb which he intended to
shake, the one on which he stood was heard to crack and
began to give way.  He was now thirty feet from the
ground. Aware of his perilous condition, he cried out to




REV. JAAMES B. FINLEY.                95
his companions below, "I'm falling."  Seeing Lhs danger
and that nothing scarcely less than a miracle could save
him  from  death, they besought him to pray.  "Pray,"
said he; "I haven't time; I can't pray."  "But you
must pray.  If you fall, you will be killed."  He then
commenced repeating the only prayer he knew: "Now I
lay me (Town to sleep;" but he could proceed no further,
as the cracking of the limb indicated its speedy severance
from the trunk, and he cried out at the top of his voice,
"Hold the dogs; I'm coming."  And sure enough, down
he came with a crash; and the dogs, thinking it to be the
coon, were with difficulty restrained from  attacking the
coon-hunter, who was considerably stunned by the fall.
A negro obtained permission from his master to start
out coon-hunting one night, and on seeing his master in
the morning, who was anxious to know about his success,
related the following: "Well, massa, you know I treed
de coon, and I climbs up to shake him off de limb.
When I got by him, I begins to shake, and presently I
bearn something drap, and what does you think it was,
nmLassa?"  "Why, the coon to be sure."  "No it wan't,
massa; it was dis here nigga." It appears that, instead
of shaking off the coon, he shook himself off.
Coons are sometimes caught in traps and dead-falls.
A hunter will sometimes make a great many, and go
round twice a week to examine them, and in this way
will take from ten to twenty at a time. Another plan is
adopted late in the fall, which is to make fire-hunts;
which is done by setting fire to the leaves in a circle
including an area of several miles. As this fire advances
toward the center, it drives the coons up the trees, and
the deer and other game are brought together into what
is called a pound, where they are shot.
The opossum is an ugly and deceitful animal.  If you
strike him, he will roll over, and appear as if dead, and




56             AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
as soon as you leave him he starts up and hastens to his
den.  His tail is entirely bare, and serves many good pur.
poses to the animal. He is not easily shaken off a tree,
like the coon, but clings to it with the greatest tenacity,
winding his tail around the limb, and defying all efforts to
shake him down. A hard-shell Baptist preacher once
introduced this animal into his discourse, to illustrate the
doctrine of final perseverance. The female opossum has
a kind of sack, in which she carries her young. The
flesh of this animal is like that of the young pig; the oil;s abundant, and answers well to burn in lamps, or grease
harness. The flesh of the opossum and new corn mush
was considered a most delicate dish among' backwoods
families. Their skins, when dressed, are as white as the
skin of the chamois, and make fine gloves for backwoods
ladies.
A hunter's life is one of constant excitement. He is
always on the look-out, and filled with constant expectation. His narratives always possess a thrilling interest,
and are listened to with the greatest attention. His wants
are but few, and he is not disturbed with cankering care
about the future.  His employment does not lead him to
covetousness, and he is always characterized by a generous hospitality. His hut or cabin is always a sure asylum
for the hungry and destitute. Who ever crossed its
threshold, and was turned away unfed and uncared for?
The poor and the stranger will feel much better in the
log-cabin, partaking of its hospitalities by a cheerful fire,
than when surrounded by the cold constraint of a nabob's
table. With these sons and daughters of nature will be
found the genuine hospitalities of nature's noblemen.
I will close this chapter with a Iew remarks on the
dress of those days. The backwoodsman usually wore a
hunting-shirt and trowsers made of buckskin, and moccasins of the same material.  His cap was made of coon



REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                 97
skin, and sometimes ornamented with a fox's tail.  The
ladies dressed in linsey-woolsey, and sometimes buckskin.
A gradual improvement, however, took place in the manners and customs of the people.
About the period in which the British forces at Yorktown surrendered, the colonists were in a complete state
of transition.  Commerce began to revive. Many small
orizes were taken by the American cruisers, brought in,
condemned, and sold.  Many merchant vessels, richly
laden, sailing under the protection of the French flag,
reached in safety their ports of destination; and the merchandise thus brought in soon found its way into the interior, and was exchanged for skins, furs, ginseng, black
and Seneca snake roots, sarsaparilla, etc. In search of
those roots the mountains were traversed, and employment given to vast numbers of persons.
The effects from thence resulting soon manifested themselves in the improved dress of the females, as well as in
the furniture of each household, and in many other particulars. Singing and common reading schools began to
be encouraged, and males and females vied with each
other in the cuibire of their intellects, conversational
powers, and address. There were several ancient families
ill Oldtown and its vicinity, who, in early life, had been
well educated, whose wealth enabled them to procure tne
richest articles of dress and furniture to be had in the
cities. By them  the ancient customs and fashions of the
English were kept up, till modified or changed by the
introduction of French customs and manners.
Prior to the commencement of the transition indicated,,he' dress of females, as at present, greatly differed.
Among the laboring classes, the usual summer dress consisted of a tow or linen chemise, short gown, and petticoat, which extended down a little below the calf of the
leg, without stockings or shoes,  The hair was either tied
7




98             AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
in a hard knot on the nape of the neck, or plaited ana
confined on the top of the head; and their toilet was
completed either with or without a coarse neckerchief.
The dress on gala days of hlose who moved in the higher
circles of society also varied. Their shoes differed from
those worn by ladies of the present day in this: they
had high heels. Those heels were made of wood, beautifully tapered, neatly covered with leather, and varied in
hight from one to two inches. The under clothing was
confined by stays, tightly laced. The outer covering was
composed of the richest brocade, or other silks and satins,
and stomacher, neckerchief, gloves, rings, and ruffles in
profusion. The hair was combed forward, and a cushion,
suited to the form of the head, varying from three to six
inches in hight, was placed upon the top of the head,
over which the hair was neatly spread, and fastened behind with a comb and ribbons, by which a rich, towering
plume of feathers was also fastened. A lady in full dress.,
entering a drawing-room, would appear to be as tall as a
May-pole, if not as cadaverous as a death's head.  The
bonnet was of enormous size, and usually measured from
three to three and a half feet in circumference.  Hence.,
against the form of dressing here indicated, the rule in
the Methodist Discipline was framed: "Give no tickets
to any who wear high heads, enormous bonnets, ruffles,
or rings." The rule has become a dead letter among
preachers and people.




REV. JAMES 13. FINLEY.                99
CHAPTER IV.
NARRATIVE CONTINUED.
IN the summer of 1794 General Wayne crossed the
mountains with an army, for the purpose of quelling the
Indians.  After a successful battle, in which "Mad Anthony," as the Indians termed him, became a terror to all
the tribes, he was enabled to effect a treaty with them at
Greenville. This gave the country rest and quiet from
the horrors of Indian war, and brought about a new era
in the history of the west.
Immigration poured into Kentucky like a flood, and
vast multitudes engaged in land speculation. Whole tracts
of country were sold by these speculators with or without
title, and thousands were stripped of their all.  Dispossession was carried on to so great a length that many became utterly dissatisfied, having bought their farms two
or three times over, and they began to look elsewhere for
a habitation.
The North-western territory was beginning to open to
western enterprise, and my father and his congregation
resolved to seek a new home. Many of them had paid
every farthing they had for land; had encountered all the
dangers of an Indian warfare in settling it, and had spent
the vigor of their strength in clearing and bringing it under cultivation; and just when they found themselves beginning to live comfortably, some other claimant would
come and dispossess them of their homes. In vain did
they seek redress of those from whom they purchased;
for more frequently than otherwise did it happen that he




100           AUTOBIOGIRAPHY  OF
was some land harpie himself. So odious did those men
become, who engaged in land speculation, that they were
looked upon generally as a class of villains; and whenever the poor farmer went to search for them they were
gone, and they had hopelessly to return, and in a penniless condition seek a new home.
In view of this state of things, my father addressed the
following letter to General Massie, for a copy of which I
am indebted to his son, N. Massie, Esq., of Chilicothe:
"BouRBON COUNTY, KY., I)ecember 12, 1794.
"SIR, —After compliments to you, I take the liberty of
addressing you for information. I understand you have a
large quantity of land on the Scioto and Paint creek for
sale. I would be pleased to know its qualities, and what
advantages two large societies could have. A number
have thought of purchasing fifteen or twenty miles square
for the settlement of two congregations, and have been
informed that you could supply us. Sir, I request the
favor of you, by Mr. Rogers, the bearer, to furnish me
with the situation, quality, and the quantity you could
sell, and what would be your price per hundred acres, and
what your terms of payment, by taking such a quantity
of land as would be sufficient to settle two congregations,
or say three hundred families. But it is probable the
present circumstances of the country would require some
time to make a settlement in it with prudence. You will
please let me know at what time this winter it would meet
your convenience to go with us and show us these lands.
A number of us would love to see the advantages which
the country will afford for such a settlement. Your compliance will much oblige your humble servant,
" ROBT. W. FINLEY.
"MR. NATHANIEL MASSIE, EsQ."
The next spring was fixed on by the parties to visit the
country and explore the land.




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                101
Accordingly, while General Wayne was treating with
the Indians, at Greenville, a company of forty persons
met at Manchester, on the Ohio river, with the intention
of exploring the Scioto country. General Massie was the
principal in this expedition. My father and several of his
congregation formed a part of the company. After proceeding cautiously for a number of days, in a northerly
direction, they reached Paint creek near the falls. This
stream is a tributary of the Scioto, and, with the Scioto,
waters one of the finest agricultural countries in the
world. Here they discovered fresh traces of Indians, the
signs being such as to indicate that they could not be far
off. They had not proceeded far till they heard the bells
on their horses.  Some of the company were what was
called new hands, and previous to this had been very
anxious to smell Indian powder.  One of the old men
remarled, on witnessing their anxiety, "If you get a sight
of the Indians you will run, or I am mistaken."  A council was called of the most experienced in Indian warfare,
and the result of their deliberations was, that it was too
iate to retreat with safety and without great danger. They
resolved, as the best possible course, to attack the enemy
by surprise. It was agreed that General Massie, Fallenash, and my father should take the command and lead on
the men, and Captain Petty was to bring up the rear.
The Indians were encamped on the bank of Paint creek
precisely where the turnpike now crosses it, at what was
called Reeves's old crossing. Out of the forty in company only about twenty engaged in battle. Those who
were so anxious to smell Indian powder retreated, and
Captain Patte reported them as having taken refuge between old logs and other defenses, trembling with fear.
The remainder advanced cautiously till within fifty yards,
when they fired and rushed into the Indians' camp.  &stounded by this attack, the Indians fled down the bank




102           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
and'cross the stream, many of them leaving their guns
Several wvere killed and wounded.  One of the companyMr. Robinson —was shot, and died in a few minutes. The
Indians were Shawnees, and would not go to the treaty.
They had a prisoner with them, who, in the fight, made
his escape, and finally succeeded in reaching his home.
His name was Armstrong. As soon as the company could
bury the dead and gather up the horses and plunder of
the Indians, they directed their course to Manchester; but
night overtook them on Scioto Brush creek, and as they
expected to be followed by the Indians, they stopped and
made the necessary preparations for defense. The next
morning, an hour before daylight, the Indians made their
appearance, and opened upon them a vigorous fire, which
was promptly and vigorously returned.  Those who woula
not fight took shelter from the balls of the enemy in a
large sink-hole in the bounds of the encampment. After
a hot contest, which lasted an hour, the Indians were
repulsed and fled. One of the party of the whites was
wounded in the battle, but not mortally. As soon as
preparations could be made for departure they left, and
the next day reached Manchester, and thus ended the expedition for that time.
In the spring of 1796, about the last of April, another
company met at Manchester for the purpose of proceeding
to the Scioto Valley and aisinlg a crop of corn, and making other preparations for removing in the fall or winter,
and so make a permanent settlement. Some of this company proceeded by land, and others by water. Those
who took the land route took their horses well ladened,
and those who went by water carried the farming utensils and the necessary breadstuffs. There was no road,
not even a path or a way blazed through the deep forest.
In all the route there was no inhabitant. All was a perfe ( and continuous wilderness to Wheeling, Virginia.




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                10t
Near where the town of West Union now stands, there
was one cabin built by Mr. Oiler, but no one lived in it,
The pioneers, however, entered upon. their journey, and
found their way without much difficulty, arriving safe at
the place of their destination, which was a beautiful prairie, below where Chilicothe now stands, called the Station
prairie. Their companions, after a laborious voyage -up
the Scioto, arrived safely and joined the overland party.
Theirs were the first crafts of the white man that stemmed
the rapids of the Scioto. Here in this prairie the plow
of the white man first turned up the virgin soil. The
prairie being plowed, the corn was planted, and all that
the husbandman had to do, was to brush down the weeds
with a wooden harrow. With such simple cultivation a
large crop was produced. Mr. Kilgore raised on one acre
one hundred and twenty-five bushels of corn without any
fence to inclose his field.
During this summer General Massie laid out the town
of Chilicothe, and Mr. John M'Coy raised the first logcabin. This pioneer habitation was followed by several
others during the fall and winter.  The place where Chilicothe now stands was a hickory flat, and so plentiful
were the nuts that they might have been raked up in
almost any quantity.
This fall Mr. Zane, by a contract with the Government,
marked out a trace, through the wilderness, from Wheeling to Maysville. This was done by merely blazing the
trees and bushes; and with this guide the traveling commenced. Soon great companies passed over Zane's trace,
and settlements were made at the Muskingum river, where
the town of Zanesville now stands, and also on Wilh
creek. There were several points toward which the attention of the emigrant was directed; such, for instance, as
the Muskingum, Hock-Hocking, and Scioto Valleys, wit}h
their tributaries.  The population in these valleys in




104            AUTOBIOGRAP-HY OF
creased with a rapidity unknown to any countly before
so great, that, in a period. of fifty years, from a population
of three thousand, Ohio has increased to two millions.
The blazed road of the white man and the war-path of
the Indian have been cleared out and paved with stone,
over which roll post-coaches at the rate of ten miles an
hour; or have been laid with iron tracks, over which the
locomotive with its numerous cars attached is propelled at
the rate of forty miles an hour. Beside this, canals, extending across the state, have united the waters of the
lakes of the north with the rivers of the south.  Splendid
steamers, resembling floating palaces, which make the
earth tremble with the thunder of their steam  and the
roar of their machinery, covered with passengers, and
freighted with the commerce of the world, have taken the
place of the canoe, the broadhorn, and the keel-boat, as
coaches, canal boats, and railroad cars have taken the
place of the pack-horse, the ox-cart, and the covered
wagon. Instead of the log-cabin with its rude furniture,
we have stately palaces with the most elegant and costly
furniture; the tables of which groan with the luxuries of
every clime. Instead of villages with trees, stumps, and
bear-wallows in the streets, we have magnificent cities
with streets extending for miles, all paved, and brilliantly
illuminated with gas, the burners of which are almost as
numerous as the fire-flies which illuminated our meadows
in olden times. Instead of the tedious process of the
mail department, by which it took a letter several weeks to
reach the seat of government, now the lightning, which
had been caught by our Franklin, domesticated, and
taught to speak by our Morse, will carry not only oun
words, but our very thoughts over plains, rivers, valleys,
and mountains-outstripping the horses and chariots of
aire-almost instantly from one extreme of the continent
to the other, annihilating space, and distancing time i' self.




REV-. JAMES B.' FINLEY.              105
Such a change never entered the most fervent imaginaLion of our backwoodsmen; and he who would have intimated the possibility of such a thing, would have been
set down as a lunatic. All we hoped for or expected, was
to have some rich farms in these luxuriant bottoms, and
always plenty of deers and bear on our hills. Even this
was not likely to be realized, for immigration poured in
upon us like the locusts of Egypt, and threatened to devour every thing. Keel-boats commenced running up the
Scioto river, and we were constantly advised, by the boatman's horn, of their arrival and departure.
William Craig was the first man who drove a wagon
and team to Chilicothe, over Zane's trace. It was a
most tedious and difficult undertaking; for he had to cut
his way through for a distance of seventy miles. Patience and perseverance, however, had its reward, and he
with his family finally succeeded in reaching the encampment.
It would be impossible for me to describe the beauty
of these rich bottoms.  The soil itself fdr richness was
not exceeded by any in the world. The lofty sugar-tree,
spreading its beautiful branches; the graceful elm, waving
its tall head, the monarch of the forest; the black and
white walnut; the giant oak, the tall hickory; the cherry
and hackberry; the spicewood, with its fragrance; the
papaw, with its luscious fruit; the wild plum; the rich
clusters of grapes, which, hanging from the massy vines,
festooned the forest; and, beneath all, the wild rye, green
as a wheat-field, mixed with the prairie and buffalo clover-all formed a garden of nature most enchanting to
behold.  The clear and beautiful rivulet creeping through
the grass, and softly rippling over pebbly bottoms, the
gentle zephyrs freighted with nature's incense, pure and
sweet, regaled our senses, and filled us with delight.  All
nature had a voice which spoke most impressively to the




A UTOBIOGRAPIIY  OF
Youl, and while all the senses were pervaded with an un
utterable  t;ilght, the solemn stillness seemed to say, God
reigns here.  The song of the lark and nightingale, the
nielancholv wail of the dove or whistle of the whippowil,
the low hum of the bee, the chirping of the grasshopper,
the bark of the squirrel, the drumming of the pheasant,
the bleat of the fawn, the growl of the bear, the hoot of
the owl, the howl of the wolf, the scream of the panther,
and the yell of the Indian, were all that broke the silence
in this deep and beautiful forest.
Although I had parted with my Kentucky home and
her favorite cane-brakes, my much-loved school-mates and
playfellows, with great reluctance, yet when I was introduced to the delightful scenes in Ohio, my tears were all
dried up, and the beautiful cane-brakes were cheerfully
resigned for the rich and more beautiful meadows enameled with flowers of every hue. I shall never forget the
first night I took up my lodgings in the valley of Paint
creek. It was near the falls. A large flock of wild geese,
on their passage, had stopped for the night, and were
sporting in the foaming waters just below the falls. They
seemed to have met by concert, to hold a soiree or feast
of rejoicing at the approach of spring. It was a calm and
quiet day. The sun was throwing his last gentle rays
among the branches of the towering elms which lined the
banks of this beautiful stream, and the heavens were
tinged with his mellow beams, just as we arrived at our
destination, and unloading our horses, we unstopped their
bells, and turned them out to feed on the grass and wild
rye of the bottom.  Soon the shades of night gathered
around us. With spunk and steel we soon struck up a
cheerful fire, and taking the corn-bread and bacon from
our sacks, with the cool water of the rivulet which glided
by us, we slaked our thirst and had a good repast. After
talking over the adventures of the day we rolled our.




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                107
selves up in blankets and went into a refreshing slumber
wnlch lasted undisturbed till the gray beams of morning
admonished us of the hour to rise. Resuming our journey, we proceeded down main Paint creek, and in the
afternoon of the same day reached our destination.
With all the richness of the country, the beauty of its
birds and flowers, the softness of the climate, and the fragrance of the atmosphere, redolent as Eden, still it was
earth, and the effects of sin had reached this charming
abode. The new settlements were regularly visited with
autumnal fevers.  They were of the bilious type, and,
sometimes, the symptoms resembled those of yellow fever.
Bilious intermittents, or fever and ague, prevailed to a great
extent.  These were supposed to have been caused by the
effluvia arising from the decomposition of the luxuriant
vegetation which grew so abundantly every-where.  These
fevers were attended with great mortality, and the sufferings occasioned by them were immense. Often there was
not one member of the family able to help the others; and
instances occurred in which the dead lay unburied for
days, because no one could report. The extensive prevalence of sickness, however, did not deter immigration. A
desire to possess the rich lands overcame all fear of sickness, and the living tide rolled on heedless of death. In
the summer of 1798 the bloody flux raged as an epidemic
with great violence, and for a while threatened to depopulate the whole town of Chilicothe and its vicinity. Medical skill was exerted to its utmost, but all to no purpose,
as but very few who were attacked recovered.  From
eight to ten were buried per day. At length a French
trader, by the name of Drouillard, came and administered to the sick with great success, giving relief in a few
hours, and, in almost every case, effecting a permanent
cure.
During this summer an event occurred in Chilicothe




108           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
very unfavorable to the peace and safety of thb country
Mr. Stoops, preparatory to opening a house of entertainment, called together his neighbors for the purpose of
raising his house a story higher. In the evening an Indian, of thile Wyandott nation, somewhat intoxicated, came
into town and behaved himself very rudely at the raising
He was reprimanded by Mr. Thomas Thompson, who was
a very athletic man.  The Indian drew his knife, and,
concealing the blade of it in his arm sleeve, waited his
opportunity to attack Thompson. A person who observed
him advised him to leave for the camp; for if Thompson
should find out that he had drawn his knife he would kill
him. The Indian mounted his horse, but refused to leave
the place. Some one informed Thompson of his danger,
and he immediately seized a handspike, and, striking the
Indian on the head, felled him to the earth. That night
the Indian died of his wounds and was carried to the Indian encampment. As soon as the Indians learned the
cause of his death they immediately demanded Thompson,
that they might punish him according to their law, which
was life fo-s life; and informed the town that if he was not
given up they would fall on the place and murder, in
revenge, men, women, and children, which they could
easily have done, as they were much more numerous than
the whites. Some of the inhabitants were for complying,
but the majority were opposed to it: After some considerable consultation it was agreed to try another method,
which was to buy the life of the murderer by making
presents to the relations of the murdered, and promising
to punish the murderer according to our law. This plan
succeeded, and Thompson was placed under guard of four
men, there being no jail there at that time. After some
two months he was.permitted to make his escape, and one
of the guards went with him. The half-brother of' the
deceased determining to avenge the death of his brother,




REV. JAM ES B. FINLEY.              O19)
took with him another Indian, and waylaying Zane's trace,
they found two young men traveling alone, whom they
killed and robbed of their horses and effects; and thus
two innocent men paid the debt of a murderer, who, under the influence of whisky, committed the crime. Such
were some of the evils and dangers brought on the community by strong drink.
The first public house, or hotel, kept in Chilicothe, was
by a man by the name of Benjamin Urmstedt.  The first
store was kept by Mr. John M'Dougal.  The first Presbyterian minister was the Rev. Robert W. Finley, and the
first Methodist ministers were the Rev. Messrs. Harr and
Tiffin.  The first physician was Dr. Samuel M'Adow.
The first Legislature met on the bank of the Scioto river,
near the mouth of Mulberry-street, under a large sycamore-tree.  This was entirely democratic, as the people
represented themselves. The principal matter which occupied the attention of this Legislature, was the enactment of a law for the suppression of drunkenness.  Ii
was the custom of the traders to give and sell whisky to
the Indians, and the consequence was, that many of them
became intoxicated; and as a drunken Indian is a dangerous creature, the peace of society was disturbed and the
women and children were in a constant state of alarm,
day and night. After mature deliberation and free discussion, it was enacted that all traders who sold spirits to the
Indians, or in any way furnished them with intoxicating
liquors, should be required to keep all the Indians made
drunk by them  in their own -storehouse till they were
sober, on penalty, for the first offense, of being reprimanded by two persons appointed for that purpose, and on
the second offense, their kegs or barrels of whisky, oi
strong drink, were to be taken into the street and tomahawked till all the contents were run out.  This law was
set at naught by one of the traders, a Mr. M., bvt it




110           AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
was promptly executed to the letter the next day after the
sentence. This vigorous maintenance of the law, on the
part of the citizens, made the traders more cautious, and
gave more safety and comfort to the inhabitants.
I will give an instance of another somewhat novel punishment adopted in those times. A certain man stole
some clothes from Mr. Crawford, and started out on the
trace toward Zanesville. He was followed and overtaken
with the clothes, which he had in his possession. A court
was organized, and he had a fair trial by a jury of his
own selection, who found him guilty, and sentenced him to
ten lashes upon his bare back, or, if he preferred it, to
mount a pack-saddle on his pony, and his wife-who was' particeps criminis-was to take it by the halter and lead
it to every door in town, and cry aloud, "This is Brannon, who stole the big coat, handkerchief, and shirt." He
chose the latter, which was executed fully.
In the fall of 1796 my father set all his slaves free.
He had been for years convinced that it was wrong to hold
his fellow-men in bondage, and thus deprive them of their
natural rights; and he was particularly impressed with
the belief that there could be no civil regulation authorizing the possession of human beings as goods and chattels, that would justify a minister of the Gospel in living
upon the sweat, and blood, and tears of his fellow-beingA,
as dear to Christ as himself, bought with the same precious blood, and destined to the same eternity of existence. Nor could he bear the idea, for a moment, of involving his children in the evils of slavery. Not, however,
till the present period, of which I am writing, had arrived,
had he the opportunity of carrying out the doctrines of
practical emancipation.  My grandfather having died and
willed all his slaves to my mother and her children, mak.
ing my father the sole executor of the estate, he immedi
ately went to Paris, Ky., and executed a deed of emanci




REV. JAMES B. FINLE..             111
nation to all the slaves, fiom the oldest to the youngest,
amounting, in all, to fourteen. This being accomplished,
he. gave them all the offer of removing with him to the
new country-as Ohio was then called-with provision
for support for one year after their arrival; with but two
exceptions of those who desired to remain in Kentucky,
-this offer was accepted.
Preparations being made for their removal, about the
first of December in the year above named, twelve of the
emancipated negroes were mounted on pack-horses, and
started for Ohio. My father placed me in charge of the
company, though I was but sixteen years of age. We
carried with us clothes, bed-clothes, provisions, and cooking utensils. We were accompanied with parts of three
families, with a great drove of hogs, cows, and sheep.
After we crossed the Ohio river it became excessively
cold; and, having no road but a path through the woods,
we were not able to travel more than eight or ten miles
per day. Some days we were under the necessity of
lying by, it was so intensely cold. The colored people
are, at best, a helpless race, and unable to stand the cold;
and it was with difficulty that some of them were kept
from freezing. After sixteen days of toil and hardship,
we reached our place of destination on the bank of the
Scioto below Chilicothe. Here we built our winter camps,
making them as warm as we could. Our bread was
made of pounded hominy and corn meal, and weilived on
this together with what we could find in the woods. For.
tunately for us, game was plenty, and we caught opossums by the score. The colored people lived well on this
food, and were as sleek and black as the raven. In the
spring my father and the rest of the family moved out.
and, as soon as we could erect a cabin, all hands went to
work to put in a crop of corn.
It was necessary to fence in the prairie, and every one




112           AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
had to inclose with a fence as much ground as he had
planted. The work of fencing fell to my lot.. Myself' and
another lad built a camp, in which we lodged at night and
cooked our provisions. We frequently killed turkeys and
wild ducks, with which we supplied our larder, and with
our johnny-cake, baked on a board before the fire, we had
a good supply for a vigorous appetite.
After our corn was gathered and laid by, the immigrants came pouring into the country. From that time to
the beginning of March I traveled over the trace from
Chilicothe to Manchester sixteen times.  On one of these
visits my brother John accompanied me, father having
sent us by that route to Kentucky for seed-wheat. We
took three horses with us, and after having procured the
steed, we started back. On our homeward journey we
found considerable difficulty in loading our horses with
the bags. We could take them off when we stopped for
the night, without any difficulty, but how to replace them
when we wished to start in the morning, was not so easy
a matter. Necessity, however, which is the mother of
inventions, taught us a way by which the difficulty was
obviated. It was this: when we wished to stop we would
seek the largest logs, and unload upon them, by which
means we had less difficulty in placing the bags on the
backs of the horses. Thus we tugged our way through
the wilderness, without seeing the face cf a human being
till we reached Paint creek. This wheat, I believe, was
the first sown on the waters of the Scioto.
This year our horses ran away, and my father sent me
in company with an Indian, whom he had employed for
that purpose, to go and hunt them. We had not gone.
four miles from the settlement, before the Indian was bit.
ten by a rattlesnake on the ankle, bets, een his leggin nnd
moccasin. It was one of the large, yellow kind, full of
poison. As soon as the Indian killed his enemy, he took




lEV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               113
his knife, went a few paces, and dug up a root, the stalk
of which resembled very much the stalk of flax, about
nine inches long. The root was yellow and very slender,
being no thicker than a knitting-needle. This root he
chewed and swallowed.  He then put more in his mouth,
and after chewing it, put it upon the wound. Soon after
he became deathly sick, and vomited. He repeated the
dose three times, with the same result, and then putting
some fresh root on the bite, we traveled on. The place
where he was bitten after awhile became swollen, but it
did not extend far, and soon subsided.  This root is undoubtedly the most effectual cure for poison in the worlda specific antidote.
I frequently hunted with John Cushon, an Indian of
the Tuscarora tribe, and had good living and much fine
sport. I became so passionately fond of the gunll and the
woods, and Indian life, that my parents feared I would go
off with the Indians and become connected with them.
They were as fondly attached to me as I to them; and
notwithstanding I had heard so much of their treachery
and savage barbarity, I felt that I could repose the most
implicit confidence in them. The mode of living and
manner of life, which consisted in hunting the buffalo,
bear, and deer in the wild woods and glens, free from
care and the restraints of civilization, made Indian life
to me most desirable; and so powerfully had these things
taken hold of my youthful mind, that the advice and entreaties of my beloved parents could scarcely restrain me
from following it. My filial affection, however, overcame
the love of the chase, and I was persuaded to resume the
study of medicine, which I had commenced in Kentucky.
Let it not be supposed that, though I was a backwoods
boy, I had not tasted of the, sweets of classical literature.
In my father's academy I enjoyed the advantages of a
thorough drilling in Latin and Greek, and even now I can
8




114           ATrC~BIOGRtAPHY' OF
repeat whole books of the ~Eneid of Virgil and the Iliac
of Homer. I could scan Latin or Greek verse with as
much fluency as I can now sing a Methodist hymn; and
I could find the square root of a given number with as
much precision as in my youthful days I could drive a
center with my rifle. And yet, strange to say, my English education was neglected. The first grammar placed
in my hands was a Latin grammar, and I have no recollection of having studied the English grammar while a
youth. Though I know it is said that the ancient languages are more readily acquired in youth, and boys
when very young are taught the languages, yet I doubt
the propriety of this early devotion to heathen classics at
the expense of Christian English literature. I am not
sorry that I was educated in classical literature, but I am
sorry that I was not first well grounded in my vernacular.
In my father's academy, it being the first institution of
learning in which the classics were taught in the western
country, were many students who came from a distance;
and among the number were the Howes, Robinsons, and
M'Nemar, Dunlevy, Welsh, Steele, and Thompson, all of
whom became Presbyterian preachers. Judges Trimble
and Mills were educated here, and several students who
afterward became doctors of medicine. Here my brother
John and myself studied the Greek and Latin languages,
and mathematics.
For the study of medicine I had, I confess, but little
inclination. My heart was away in the woods, and an
Indian, my dog and gun had more charms for me than
anatomy, surgery, and physiology. I think it perfect
folly to give a boy any trade or profession for which he
has no inclination. However, as I did not wish to disoblige my parents, and did not wish to be a mere novice
im any thing, I bent down to my studies, with a full de:
termination to understand the theory of medicine, though




RET. JAMES 3B. FINLET.               115
never intended to practice it. My recreations were with
the gun in the woods, or the gig in killing fish in the river,
which abounded with perch, buffalo, pike, cat-fish, and
sturgeon. At all the sports of those days I considered
myself a'full hand. I spent several months in the woods
surveying Congress lands for Thomas Worthington, Esq.,
afterward governor of the state.
I finished my medical studies in the fall of 1800, and
was admitted to practice. In connection with my preceptor, I visited and prescribed for many sick, and have vanity
enough to believe that, had I continued, I would have
made a respectable physician for the times. As I before
remarked, not feeling at home in this profession, but being
desirous of taking -to the woods, I joined with three others
and purchased a drove of fat cattle, and we started, in
October, with them for the Detroit market. There were
no roads, and we had to follow Indian paths from one village to another.  We took the Indian path by Westfall to
Franklinton, on the west bank of the Scioto, which has
long since been outrivaled by the city of Columbus, and
has gone into decay. Here we found several houses built
by Dixon, Turner, Foose, Skidmore, and a few others.
In consequence of the flies, which were exceedingly numerous and troublesome to the cattle in the woods, we
remained here till November.
After leaving Franklinton we took the path to Dela-.
ware, where were the famous sulphur springs, which we
reached the first day. Here, right around these ancient
springs, we were obliged to sit on our horses all night to
prevent the cattle from running back. The next day we
reached the Sandusky plains. This was a rainy day, and
in riding through the woods we were as wet as if we had
been in the river; and in addition to all this, we had nothing to eat but a little corn-bread. We were chilled with
the rain, and it was with the utmost difficulty we could




116            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
start a fire. My companions despaired and began to wish
themselves at home. My motto being nil desperandunt, 1
raliied them, and persevering in hope against hope, at
length the spark from the smitten steel took effect, and
none but those placed in the same situation could appreciate our joy, kindled by the light of a blazing fire. Here,
on the waters of the Scioto, we passed a tolerably-comr
fortable night. The next day we resumed our journey,
and passed on through Upper Sandusky, Honey creek,
and Lower Sandusky, till we reached the rapids of the
Maumee, where we found a large Indian village.  The
inhabitants of this town had just finished their great fall
dance and a drunken frolic, and were making preparations
to start to their hunting-grounds.  Being hungry and half
starved, they demanded of us a steer for the privilege of
driving through their country. I told them no, they could
not have it, as the cattle were for the soldiers at Detroit.
At this one of the Indians raised his rifle to shoot a steer,
but riding instantly between him and the animal, I told
him if he shot I would send a force of soldiers after him
fiom Detroit, and he should be taken there to answer for
his conduct. This had the desired effect, and we passed
on unmolested.  Continuing our journey, after a period
of two weeks and five days, we arrived, with our drove,
at the mouth of the river Rouge, five miles below Detroit,
and in a few hours we found the end of our journey.
The first thing, on arriving, was to effect a sale of the cattle. After six weeks, during all which time we lodged in
a Frenchman's barn, we succeeded in selling our drove to
a contractor of the army for a draft on the Government.
Soon after the sale we left for home, with provisions sufficient to last us till we reached the Maumee rapids. Hav.
ing arrived at this place, and our stock of provisions being exhausted, we found it impossible to purchase arly;
and taking a string of corn, on which we subsisted, to



REV. JAILIES B. FINLEY.              117,
gether with some hazel-nuts, for two days, we arrived at
Lower Sandusky. At this place we purchased of Whitaker a few quarts of flour and the half of a small deer. A
short time before night we reached Honey creek, and concluded to stay there till morning. While my companions
were engaged in disposing of the horses for the night, I
kindled a fire and peeled some linn bark, and mixed up
some flour to make what was called stick bread. This
backwoods bread is made by peeling the bark off a stick,
then wrapping the dough around it and turning it round
before the fire, one end of the stick being in the ground.
On this we made our evening's repast.
A short time after dark an Indian ran by our camp in
great haste. His silence and conduct excited our suspicions that all was not right. As we had driven our stock
to D'troit, it might be supposed, by the Indians, who were
aware of this fact, that we might have money, and this,
together with our horses, might be an object with some of
the desperadoes that infested the Sanduskies. After we
had partaken of our suppers, we caught our horses and
took the path for Upper Sandusky.  Pursuing our journey
till midnight we came upon the camp of the Indian. He
was much frightened at first, but he soon became composed, and we tarried all night together. The next day
we resumed our journey, and, after passing through
Franklinton, in a few days arrived safe at home.
In contrasting the present with the past, no one can
fail to see what were the difficulties and dangers which
the early pioneers encountered in traversing the country,
and the courage and perseverance which were necessary
in the various departments of life. Then there were no
roads or means of transportation, and it took us nearly
two months to perform the journey. Now, by railroad
car and steamer, a drove of cattle could be transported
in as many days from Cincinnati to Detroit, with greater




118            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
facility, No one can read the discovery and settlemet
of this new country without being deeply interested. In
reading of the adventurous struggles of the bold and
hardy pioneers, an American becomes a party in all the
thrilling scenes of border life. While contemplating the
dangers of the wilderness, the terrors of savage war, the
want and distress through which they passed, he is filled
with admiration at their self-denial, and the perseverance
which characterized them in surmounting the obstacles,
enduring the hardships, and braving the dangers to which
they were exposed, that they might turn this unbroken
wilderness into fruitful fields and gardens, and transmit to
posterity the inestimable blessings of civil and religious
liberty. The pious mind can not fail to see a Divine hand
overrauling and conducting the whole. The people of the
Unite'd States have more reason to be thankful to Goa
than any other people; for "he hath not dealt so with any




REV.. JAMES B. FINLEY.              ]9
CHAPTER V.
BACKWOODS BIOGRAPHY.
IF history b3 philosophy teaching by example, biography furnishes the examples which history records. I
have already alluded to some of the early pioneers, and
shall continue to weave into my narrative biographical
sketches of such distinguished individuals of my times
as I shall deem most interesting to my readers.
Captain Cassaday, of whom I have already spoken,
was a native of Pennsylvania, and among the first intrepid
adventurers to the cane-lands of Kentucky. He was a
stout, well-formed man, and a valiant soldier. He settled
about two miles from Stockton's Station, near where the
town of Flemingsburg now stands. The place was called
Cassaday's Station. At one time he was taken prisoner
by the Indians. When a boy I have often heard him
relate the circumstances connected with his captivity and
escape. One day, while hunting in the woods, a party
of Indians closed on him by surprise-for they were in
ambuscade-and took him  prisoner.  They considered
him a great prize; and, taking him across the Ohio river,
they traveled, without stopping, two days in the wilderness. Having selected a place where to camp, they tied
him to a tree; and, leaving him in care of an old Indian
and some lads, they started out on a hunting expedition.
By some means he succeeded in getting his hands loose,
and, keeping an eye upon the old Indian and the boys,
le next relieved himself of the tugs which were round
his waist. The evening shades were gathering around




12!)          AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
the earth, and while the boys were picking up sticks foi
the fire, and the old Indian, wearied with fatigue, was
nodding on his seat, Cassaday bounded from the tree,
seized a gun and pouch, and before they had time to
recover from their surprise, was lost to sight in the depths
of the fdrest.  The alarm was.given; and the Indians
returning, and finding their prisoner gone, started off in
the direction he had taken. He knew his enemies could
not be far off, and would soon be on his track. To elude
their pursuit, he struck off in a northerly direction, which
was in a contrary direction from home. When night
came on he changed his course toward the Ohio river.
He heard in the distance the Indians on his track, and
the dismal howl of the Indian bloodhound, which was
scenting out his way. The chase was continued till, late
at night, and he imagined again and again that his
enemy was just upon him. Seeing a stream which ran
in a southerly direction, he plunged into it, and, wading
in its bed for some distance, crossed to the other bank,
following it down some distance, when he would plunge
in again, and continue wading down the stream. This
he did to elude the scent of the dog, and it was the
only thing that could have saved him. The pursuit was
kept up all night, and the next day till evening, when, to
his great relief, he reached the Ohio river, into which,
without a moment's thought, he plunged, and commenced
swimming for the other shore. Before he reached the
middle of the stream his strength, which had alreadj
been taxed to its utmost, began to fail, and he began to
despair of ever being able to reach the Kentucky shore.
A thought of home and friends inspired him, however,
with new courage, and he redoubled his exertions. The
gun, which he had tied to his head, was pressing him
down; his strokes became less frequent and more feeble,
and he was about resigning himself to a watery grave,




REV. JA.MES B. FINLEY.              121
when it occurred to him that perhaps the water was not
over his head. Accordingly he let his feet descend, and
to hist great joy he found the water only up to his
shoulders, and, after resting a short time, he was enabled
to wade out to the beach.  When he reached the shore
he was completely exhausted, and he sought a place for
rest and safety. Worn down with fatigue, and having
had no sleep nor food for the last two days, it was not
long till he fell into a profound slumber. When he awoke
in the morning his limbs were so stiff that it was with
difficulty he could move them. He, however, arose from
his resting-place, and, after seeking for something to satisfy the cravings of appetite, he journeyed toward home,
which he reached in three days.
He was an active defender of the frontier settlers, a
brave man, a valuable citizen, beloved and respected by
all. He was subsequently chosen to represent the county
where he resided in the Legislature of the state-a duty
which he performed with credit to himself and satisfaction to his constituents.
Mercer Beason, another pioneer of those times, was
one of our spies. He was a descendant of the family of
Beasons who settled at an early day near the foot of
Laurel Hill, where they laid out the village of Beasontown, now known as Uniontown.  He was an active, fearless young man, above the medium  stature.  Bold and
daring, he traversed the wilderness, encountering its
dangers and hardships with an undaunted spirit. Many
were the hazardous undertakings and perilous adventures of which he was the hero. He was the pride of
his country.  His fame spread far and wide, and his
daring deeds struck terror into the hearts of the foe.
He was one of nature's warriors; reared among the
mountains, and breathing the wild air of liberty, his
spirit soared aloft, unfettered and free, as the eagle of
11




122           AIUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
the Alieghanies.  But, alas! the spoiler came, and that
gifted, high-born son of the wildwood fell by the shaft of
the demon Intemperance. Like Death itself, this.demon
loves a shining mark; and who does not weep over the
early graves of heroism, genius, and learning, which
have fallen by the hand of this fell destroyer?
Bazil Williams was a Virginian by birth, but was
raised in Kentucky. He was one of the most active
men of his age, with but one exception-the incomparable M'Cleland.  He was an officer in Captain Joseph
Colvin's volunteer company from Bourbon county, which
joined the army of General Wayne. Having been in
many skirmishes with the Indians, he learned their various arts and stratagems, and hence he was prepared
to do effective service'in the great battle on the Maumee,
During this battle he was shot in the arm, but he never
ceased fighting till the battle was ended and the victory
achieved. G. Partee was also wounded in the thigh,
but, like his brave officer, he fought on to the last of the
conflict. Williams was eminently useful as a spy, and
his fleetness of foot rendered him a great acquisition in
carrying intelligence from one part of the country to
another. It was said of him, that for a half a day's
heat he could outrun any horse in the country, and it
was considered useless for any man to.try to catch him.
It would seem, from the diversities of natural gifts which
were possessed by the early pioneers, that they had been
specially designed by Providence for the wants and necessities growing out of the border wars.
Duncan M'Arthur was a son of nature.  He was tall.n stature, with a giant frame. His hair was black as a
raven, and his eyes dark and piercing. When excited
there was an unearthly flash in his fiery eye which indicated a keen and daring spirit, restless and fearless.
When I first knew him, in 1793, he was quite a young




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                128
man, and was employed as a spy in company with Samuel
Davis  They were to range the country from Limestone
to the mouth of Big Sandy.  In their excursions they
met with many narrow escapes. In 1794 he, with Nathaniel Beasley, was employed as a spy on the same
ground, and they were often in great jeopardy of their
lives.  Traversing the dense forests that lined the banks
of the Ohio, or gliding along in the swift canoe over its
beautiful waters, with naught to disturb the repose of
nature but the scream of the panther or the yell of the
savage, as he would be startled fiom his camp by the
dreaded approach of the white man, young M'Arthur
grew up to manhood inspired with the wildness of the
scenes around him, and disciplined to hardship by the
toils he endured. After this he became a hunter for
General Massie, and subsequently a deputy surveyor of
the wild Congress lands. He finally bought up warrants,
and located the land himself, till he became immensely
rich as a landlord. He assisted General Massie in laying
out the town of Chilicothe, and was among the first
settlers of that ancient metropolis. He held many offices,
both of a military and civil nature, and figured largely in
the history of the western country during his day. He
was a member of the state Legislature, several times
a member of the Congress of the United States, Brig
adier-General of the North-western army during the
last war, and Governor of the state of Ohio. He was a
kind neighbor and a valuable citizen.  A poor backwoods
boy, with nothing but a hunter's dress and rifle, he rose,
by dint of indomitable perseverance and courage, from
his obscurity to fill the highest offices in the gift of his
countrymen.
Colonel John M'Donald, one of my early companions,
was of Scotch descent.  His father was connected with
the army of the Revolution from its first organization ur




124-           AUTOBIOGRIAPHIY OF
to the year 1780. John was born in Northumberland
county, on the 28th of January, 1775. His father crossed
the Mountains with his family in 1780, and settled at a
place called Mingo Bottom, three miles below the present site of Steubenville. The Ohio river was then the
extreme frontier, constituting the dividing line between
the white and red man. No line, however, was sufficient
to form a barrier against the invasions of both parties.
The white man was as frequently the aggressor as the
Indian, and many were the scenes of suffering, carnage,
and massacre witnessed along this border line.
My young friend was reared amid all the dangers of a
border war. In the year 1789 his father removed to
Washington, Ky., where we were then residing, and soon
after their arrival my acquaintance with young M'Donald
commenced. Simon Kenton resided here also at that
time. I have already given a sketch of his life, but can
not forbear adding, that, although he could neitller read
nor write, he was regarded as the prince of the pioneers
of this region of country. Bravery and daring courage
were considered more essential elements of greatness in
those days than learning, or wealth, or dignified titles.
Kenton had a pleasant countenance and a sweet voice, yet
of great compass and power. Unlike Daniel Boone, he
was social in his manners. When engaging in battle he
was prudent and cautious, but when the fight began he
was bold and daring to excess. In the tumult of battle
his clear, manly voice would roll over the combatants,
like thunder, inspiring his men with courage, and striking
dismay into the hearts of his foes. He was the teacher
and captain of all the young men and boys in this part of
the country. He was a master-spirit, and the prototype
of young M'Donald.
The boys of those days were early brought into service; and as soon as they could hold up a rifle at off hand,




REV-. JAMES B. FINLEY.              192
take off a gun-lock and clean it, taking it apart and oiling
it, and then putting it together again, were ranked with
the hunters and soldiers of the day. It is almost incredible to relate the intrepid and desperate daring of the
feats performed by mere boys. I will relate an instance
which occurred with two boys with whom I was well
acquainted. They were in the woods hunting the cows.
It was in the fall of the year; and as hickory-nuts were
very plentiful, they concluded to gather some and take
them home. While thus engaged two Indians came
upon them, and took them prisoners. With their prize
they started off, traveling all night and the next day. At
evening they stopped to camp. After taking their evening repast they made the two boys lie down between
them. The eldest kept awake till all the company were
locked in the fast embrace of sleep. He then quietly
awakened his brother, and they stole softly from their
resting-place. The elder brother then took a gun from
one of the Indians and a tomahawk from  the other.
Placing the muzzle of the gun at the head of one of the
Indians, he told his brother that the moment he should
strike the other Indian he should pull the trigger. The
deadly weapon gleamed in the light of the watch-fire,
and in an instant was buried deep into the skull of the
savage, while the sharp crack of the rifle sent the deathdealing ball into the brains of his companion. The one
that had been tomahawked bounded and fell into the fire.
The boys then made their escape, and, taking the Indian
trail, they proceeded toward home, which in due time
they reached in safety. A party started out with the
eldest to visit the scene of slaughter, and found the
Indians dead as reported. The name of these boys was
Johnson. They grew up to be useful members of society,
and joined the Methodist Episcopal Church —the eldest
being a steward and the youngest a local preacher.




126            Am UTOBIOGRAPHYI  OF
The first excursion of my friend M'Donald was taken
with Kenton. Three men from near Washington went out
on a hunting expjedition, and encamped on the waters
of Bracken, about ten miles from home. While they
were out hunting a party of Indians came upon their
camp, and placed themselves in ambush, to waylay the
hunters on their return at night.  The names of two
of the hunters were Dan Figgans and Josiah Wood'
the name of the other is forgotten. It was late when
the party returned. As they were preparing their supper
the Indians crept up stealthily, and fired, killing Wood
and the one whose name is forgotten. Figgans, being
unhurt, fled for his life. The Indians started in pursuit,
with the most hideous yells. The race was most fearfully kept up, but Figgans distanced his pursuers, and at
midnight reached Washington, where he alarmed his
friends at Kenton's Station. This bold warrior immediately, mounted his horse, and in a short time, having
raised a company, started in pursuit. Young M'Donald
was anxious to accompany them; but his father, thinking
him too young, being but fifteen years of age, to be of
any service, refused his consent. He was not, however,
to be deterred; so stealing his father's rifle and horse,
he started at full speed, and soon overtook the company.
They arrived at the place about sunrise, and a most
shocking scene presented itself to their view. One of
the men had been scalped, and thrown into tlie fire.
where he was nearly consumed; the other had also beeln
scalped, and cut to pieces with the Indian hatchet. The
party proceeded to the mournful work of depositing their
remains in the ground; and ascertaining by the tracks of
the horses that the Indians had directed their course
for the Ohio river, they started after them. When they
arrived at the river, they found that the Indians, without
waiting a moment, had plunged in and swam  across,




rtl V. 1S27lwb B. B1NI~t.          fi#
thus cutting off pursuit.  This dreadful sight had a tendency somewhat to cool the ardor of the youthful warrior,
who, nevertheless, would have been glad of an opportunity for taking revenge upon the savage foe.
From this time M'Donald was constantly engaged with
scouting, hunting, and surveying parties. In the spring
of 1792 he joined General Massie's settlement at Manchester, twelve miles above Maysville.  This was the
third settlement on the north-west side of the Ohio river,
above Cincinnati, or Losantiville, as the town was called.
This infant settlement, together with the lives of all in
the station, was in constant danger. Many and exciting
were the scenes by which they were surrounded. Sometimes they were deeply depressed, and anon, when danger
was over, their spirits rose exulting at the trials and conflicts through which they had passed. A report would
sometimes come in, that one of their number had fallen
by the hand of the enemy, which would cast a shade of
sadness and gloom on all hearts; then again the intelligence that the bold and daring hunter had captured the
foe, would inspire them with courage. Thus life was
made up of constant alternations of hope and despondency. This constant warfare made the early settlers so
familiar with scenes of blood and carnage, that they became, in a measure, indifferent spectators, and at the same
time reckless and fearless of all danger. Scenes of horror that would have congealed the blood in the veins of
those unaccustomed to them, would scarcely move the heart
of the hardy pioneer.
In the spring of 1794 Colonel M'Donald and his
brother Thomas joined General Wayne's army as rangers, or spies. The company of rangers consisted of seventy-two, of whom Captain Ephraim Kibby was commander. He was a true Jersey blue, fully adequate to
any emergency growing out of his highly iesponsibie




128           AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
position.  It was the duty of the rangers to traverse the
Indian country in every direction in advance of the army.
This was not only a toilsome, but a dangerous work.
The company was divided into small detachments,
which started out in every direction, and, after scouring
the country, returned and made their report to headquarters.
The history of these times has been so often told that I
do not consider it necessary to enter into any detail in
regard to the many adventures connected with the rangers, and shall only record what has never yet been made
a matter of public history.
Early in November of the year above mentioned, Mr.
Lucas Sullivan, a land-speculator and surveyor from Virginia, collected a company of twenty-one men to go upon
a surveying tour into the Scioto country. This was a
hazardous undertaking. Notwithstanding the Indians had
been severely beaten by General Wayne, a few months
previously, yet the country was far from a state of peace.
Attached to this company were three surveyors; namelyA
John and Nathaniel Beasley, and Sullivan, who was the
chief. Young M'Donald was connected with this company. Every man carried his own baggage and arms,
consisting of a rifle, tomahawk, and scalping-knife. While
engaged in surveying, the hunters would go in advance
as spies, and the surveyor, chain-carriers, and marksmen
would follow in line, the whole being brought up by the
pack-horse and the man who cooked for the company. It
was his business to keep a good look-out, so that the
enemy should not attack them in the rear. In this militarv manner was most of the surveying in Ohio and Kentucky performed. They did not carry any pIovisions with
them, but depended on their rifles for a living, which sel
dom failed to afford them an abundant supply.
Having taken Todd's trace, they pursued their jourBey




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                129
till they came to Paint creek, at the old crossings. From
thence they proceeded to old Chilicothe, now Frankfort,
and thus on to Deer creek, where they encamped at the
mouth of Hay run. In the morning Sullivan, M'Donald,
and Murray went down to the mouth of Deer creek with
the intention of taking its meanderings back to the camp.
They had not proceeded more than a hundred rods till a
flock of turkeys came flying toward them. M'Donald and
Murray being on the bank of the creek, near to a pile of
drift-wood, Murray, without reflecting a moment that the
turkeys must have been driven toward them by some persons, slipped up to a tree and shot a turkey. He then
slipped back, and as there were more turkeys on the tree,
M},'Donald slipped up to the position left by his companion. Just as he was about to fire, the sharp crack of a
rifle fell on his ears, and turning instantly he saw poor
Murray fall to rise no more. Looking in the direction
from whence the messenger of death came, he saw several Indians with their rifles leveled at him.  Quick as
thought he sprang over the bank into the creek, and they
fired but missed him. -The Indians followed hard after
him, yelling and screaming like fiends. Running across
the bottom he met Sullivan and three others of the company. Sullivan instantly threw away his compass and
clung to his rifle.  Their only safety was in rapid flight,
as the Indians were too numerous to encounter. As they
ran the Indians fired upon them, one of the balls striking
Colvin's cue at the tie, which shocked him so much that
he thought himself mortally wounded. But he was a
brave young man, and being fleet of foot, he ran up tlfe
creek and gave the alarm at the camp, stating that he believed all were killed but himself. Those at camp of
course fled as soon as possible. M'Donald and his party
ran across the bottom to the high land, and after running
three miles struck a prairie.  Casting their eye over it.
9




130            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
they saw four Indians trotting along the tiace. They
thought of running round the prairie and heading them,
but not kn&iwing how soon those in pursuit would be upon
them, and perchance they would get between two fires,
adopted the better part of valor and concealed themselves
in the grass till the Indians were out of sight. After
remaining there for some time they went to the camp and
found it deserted. Just as they were about to leave, one
of the company espied a note stuck in the end of a split
stick, to this effect, "If you should come, follow the trail."
It was then sundown, and they knew they would not be
able to follow the trail after dark. When night came on,
they steered their course by starlight.
They had traveled a distance of eight or nine miles. It
was a cold, dreary night, and the leaves being frozen, the
sound of their footsteps could be heard some distance.
All at once they heard something break and run as if it
were a gang of buffaloes. At this they halted and remained silent for some time. After a while the fugitives
could be heard coming back softly. Supposing that it
might be their -companions, M'Donald and M'Cormick
concluded to creep up slowly and see. They advanced
till they could hear them cracking hazel-nuts with their
teeth.* They also heard them whisper to one another, but
could not tell whether they were Indians or white men.
They cautiously returned to Sullivan, and the company,
after deliberation, finally concluded to call, which they
did, and found, to their joy, that it was their own friends
who fled from them. They had nlutual rejoicings at
mneeting again, but poor Murray wad left a prey to the
Indians and wolves. They now commenced their journey
homeward, and after three days' travel, arrived at Manchester.
This disastrous enterprise, however, did not deter others from trying their fortunes. Soon after this, GentraJ




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY                  131
Nathaniel MaGsie collected a party of twenty-eight men,
of whom M'Donald was one, to take a surveying tour on
the head waters of the Little Miami and Paint creek. He
took with him three assistant surveyors, namely, Peter
Lee, William O'Banion, and Nathaniel Beasley, men of
tried zourage, and able to encounter any hardships. - None
but men of this stamp were adapted to such an enterprise, and hence the company was composed of such. A
surveying expedition incurred more toil and danger than
a scouting party or a regular army, the latter particularly,
as it was always embodied and better prepared for defense. The surveying company was.divided into bands,
and each had its particular duties to perform; hence it
was impossible-to be always on the guard against the
wily and revengeful Indian.
General Massie was a man of great energy of character, a brave and daring spirit of the times in which he
lived.  He was honest and upright in all his dealings
with his fellow-men. He was not only just, but generous to a fault, the poor man's friend, the widow and orphan's benefactor. Pinching want, with haggard mien
and downcast eyes, never went pining from his door.
His house was the home of hospitality, and an asylum
for the distressed. But, alas! like many high-souled,
gifted, and generous men of all times, the demon Intemperance marked him as his victim, and
"Like some ill-guided bark, well built, and tall,
That angry tides cast out on desert shore,"
that noble spirit was wrecked. He died in 1813. Having
neglected his business, which was in great confusion at
his death, his heirs reaped but little benefit from his great
estate.
Peter Lee, one of Massie's surveyors, was a native of
Mason county, Ky. He possessed a large fortune, and
was reputed a liberal and honest man.  He was unosten



132            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
tatious in all his demeanor, and much respected by all
who knew him.  He remained a bachelor, as matrimony
did not seem to have sufficient charms to lure him from
the path of single biessedness. If to some it is not given
to enjoy this estate, they may excite commiseration for
their misfortune, instead of condemnation for their course.
Nathaniel Beasley, the youngest of the surveyors, has
long since passed away from the ranks of the living, and
been numbered with the dead. He served his country
with great fidelity in many responsible stations. He was
justice of the peace, county commissioner, and representative in the state Legislature.
In the war of 1812 he again shouldered his rifle in his
country's cause, as commander of a battalion in two ex
peditions. He had, when we take into account the day in
wh'ch he lived, and the training which he received, as
few faults as any man. He was a plain, common-sense,
seif-taught, and self-made man. He possessed a thorough business capacity, had great honesty of purpose,
and his industry and perseverance secured for him the
esteem of all who knew him.
William O'Banion was the bravest of the brave, and
one of the most fiery and impetuous spirits old Kentucky
ever sent into the battle-field. After serving, with the
greatest fidelity and courage, in various minor grades of
rank as an officer in the army, he was promoted to the
rank of lieutenant in the United States army. He was
in the battle of Tripoli in Africa, and the first man that
mounted the wall of a fortified town near Tripoli. Since
his return from Africa I have not been able to learn al y
thing concerning his history.
Such were the men who constituted the leaders of
the expedition; while the chain-carriers and marksmen
were all well-tried backwoods hunters, brought up amid
the perils of the border wars.  Without beds, tents, or




:REV. JAMES- B. FINLEY.'13
wagons, the ground covered with snow, and the weather
intensely cold, they traversed the wilderness, and, gathering around their camp-fires, after the toils of the day,
they would laugh, and sing, and talk as merrily as tliough
at a backwoods wedding.
But to return to the biography of my friend M'Donald.
In the year of 1799 he was married to Miss Catharine
Cutwrrght, and in 1802 removed to Poplar Ridge in Rose
county, where he now resides. He had eight daughters
and one son, all of whom obtained respectable positions
in society. He was elected several times a justice of the
peace; also served as a militia officer, being captain, major, lieutenant-colonel, and colonel. When the war of
1812 broke out, he enlisted as a volunteer in the first regiment of Ohio volunteers, and received the appointment
of paymaster-general. Immediately on the receipt of this
appointment, he went to Dayton, the place of general
rendezvous for the north-western army, and was subsequently appointed quarter-master of the regiment, and
continued to perform the duties of both offices till the
surrender of the army by General Hull. In the early
part of the winter of 1812-13 he received the appointment of captain in the United States army, but did not
resign his commissions in the militia.  In July following
he commanded a regiment of militia, and marched to the
lake country, and served under the orders of General
William Henry Harrison.  He represented his county in
both houses of the state Legislature.  This young man,
reared in the wilderness, subjected to all its toils and
dangers, presented a specimen of manly courage, intellectual worth, and true greatness, worth a regiment of
West Point cadets, and an example to all young men of
the present day. I have been familiarly acquainted with
him for upward of half a century. He is now, like myself, in the sear and yellow, leaf of age, and soon the win



134           AUTOBIOGRAP'fT  oF
tery winds will sweep us as the leaves from their parent.
wree, and we shall be gathered to our fathers.  The latter
part of his life has been spent in promoting the benevclent enterprises of the age, such as temperance, Sabbath
schools, etc. His life has been one of excitement, toil,
and conflict. His best years have been devoted, to the
interests of his country, and, though man does not, may
God reward him for his conduct! He has written a most
interesting and reliable history, called "Sketches of Lhe
W'est"




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               135
CHAPTER VI.
TRAGICAL OCCURRENCE —BRAVE -BACKWOODS GIRU.
THE dangers to which the early inhabitants of the
Scioto Valley were exposed made their appearance on the
death of Captain Herrod. He was among the number
of those who raised the first corn in the prairie below
Chilicothe, in 1796. He was a most respectable and worthy man, possessing great influence in the country, and
beloved by all who knew him. Having removed to a
farm a few miles west of Chilicothe, which he was engaged in clearing, an incident occurred, which created
the utmost terror and alarm in the whole country, and
spread consternation and dismay wherever the sad intelligence reached the sparse and scattered population. In
the spring of 1803, as some persons were hunting in the
woods, they found the body of a man scalped and tomahawked. This was recognized as the budy of Captain
Herrod; and it was supposed, from the manner of his
death, that the fearful deed had been perpetrated by the
Indians. It was also supposed that the Indians had
recommenced hostilities on the whites. The treaty of
peace concluded by General Wayne in 1795 had remained
undisturbed up to this time. By whom or for what purpose Captain Herrod was thus brutally murdered, has
never been ascertained, and remains wrapped in the pro.
foundest mystery to this day. Various were the conjectures at the time. It was secretly hinted, and by some
firmly believed, that the savage deed was done by a
white man who had been an unsuccessful rival candidato




1S6           AtTTOBIOGRAPl r   OF
of Captain Herrod's, for the office of captain in the Ohio
militia. It was known that the bitterest envy rankled in
his heart toward Herrod, and it was supposed that he
sought to cover up the foul deed by adopting the Indian
mode of human slaughter. Whether he was guilty or
not, this was at least the general impression among the
immediate neighbors; but, as no evidence of guilt was
ever sought or found against him, he was allowed to pass
without being taken. On the other hand, as little faith
had been placed by the inhabitants in general in the
treaty of the Indians, a large majority were disposed to
charge the deed to them, and the death of Herrod was
regarded as the forerunner of war. The account of his
death, as if borne on the wings of the wind, spread with
great rapidity all over the Scioto Valley, and the excitement and alarm produced among the citizens was most
intense. Whole families, from five to fifteen miles apart,
flocked together for purposes of self-defense. In some
places block-houses were run up, and preparations for
war made in every direction. The citizens of Chilicothe,
though in the center of population, collected together for
the purpose of fortifying the town. Sentinels were posted,
and a vigilant guard kept, day and night. Rumor, with
her overheated and affrighted imagination, and her thousand tongues, was busily engaged in spreading her
alarms. At one time it was reported that Captain John,
an Indian chief, with his warriors, had killed all the
inhabitants of Darby; and again, that other settlements
had fallen beneath the hand of the savage foe. The
inhabitants living on the north fork of Paint creek were
all collected at Old Town, now Frankfort, and among
others was David Wolf, an old hunter, a man of wealth
and some influence. He had settled on the north fork,
twenty miles above Old Town. After remaining in the
Town several days, he employed two men, Williams aie




rEVJ. JAMES t. FIrLE               137
Ferguson, to go with him  to his farm, with a view of
examining into the condition of his stock. When they
had proceeded about six miles, and were passing through
a prairie, they saw an Indian approaching them in the distance, and walking in the same path over which they were
traveling. On a nearer approach it was found to be the
Shawnee chief Waw-wil-a-way, the old and faithful hunter of General Massie during his surveying tours, and an
unwavering friend of the white man. He was a sober,
brave, intelligent man, well known to most of the settlers
in the country, and beloved by all for his frank and generous demeanor. He had a wife and two sons, who were
also much respected by their white neighbors where they
resided, near the falls of Paint creek.
Waw-wil-a-way was frequently engaged in taking wild
game and skins to Old Town, for the purpose of exchang
ing them for such articles as he wanted. He had left
home that morning on foot with his gun for the purpose
eof visiting Frankfort, and meeting the company before
named, he approached them in that frank and fiiendly
manner which-always characterized his intercourse with
his white brethren. After shaking hands with them most
cordially, he inquired into the health of each and their
families. The salutation being over, Wolf asked him if
he would not trade guns; and the chief assenting, an
exchange was made for the purpose of examining previous
to the ratification of the bargain. While this was going
on, Wolf, being on horseback, unperceived by Waw-wil-away, opened the pan, and threw out the priming, and,
handing it back, said he believed he would not trade
with him.
Wolf and Williams then dismounted, and asked the
chief if the Indians had commenced war.
His answer was, I" No, no! the Indians and white men
are now all one, all brothers."




a13-8          aeAttOBMIOGORAPHY OF
Wolf then asked if he had heard that the Indians had
killed Captain Herrod.
The chief, much surprised at the intelligence, replied,
that he had not heard it, and seemed to doubt its
correctness.
Wolf assured him that it was true.
"May be whisky, too much drink, was the cause of the
quarrel."
Wolf replied, "Herrod had no quarrel with the Indians; nor is it known by whom he was killed, or for what
cause."
Waw-wil-a-way said, "May be some bad white man
kill Captain Herrod."
The conversation then ended, and the party making
preparation to resume their journey, the chief again shook
hands with all in the same friendly manner as at greeting.
After he had proceeded on his way about ten steps,
Wolf raised his rifle, and, taking deliberate aim at the
Indian's back, fired, and shot him  through the body.
Waw-wil-a-way did not fall, although he knew his wound
must prove mortal; nor did he submit to die as most
men would have done in similar circumstances.
The illustrious Julius Casar, one of the most renowned
warriors of imperial Rome, when attacked by superior
numbers in the Senate Chamber, terrified at the approach
f'death, muffled his face in his cloak, and received the
ieadly thrust of Brutus; but the brave Shawnee chief, in
the wild prairie of his fathers, which had been invaded
by the white man, turned upon his ungenerous and cowardly assailants, determined to sell his life at as dear
a rate as his hopeless condition would admit, raised his
unerring rifle, and leveled it at Wolf, who jumped behind
his horse. Williams's horse becoming frightened, and
plunging about, left his body unprotected, and the unelr
ing fire of Waw-wil-a-way's rifle told its tale of death




tEV. JAMES 1B. FINLEY.            139
Williams was shot through the body, and fell dead in the
path. The Indian then clubbed his gun, and, in a state
of desperation, rushed upon Wolf, and with one blow
felled him to the earth. Reqovering, and being strong
and active, he closed upon the Indian, and made an effort
to seize him by the long tuft of hair on the top of his
head. He had a shawl tied around his head in t-le form
of a turban, and this being seized by Wolf, instead of the
hair, he gave a violent jerk for the purpose of bringing
him to the ground.  The shawl giving way, Wolf fell on
his back. At this the Indian drew his scalping-knife,
and made a thrust at Wolf, who, seeing his danger, and
throwing up his feet to ward off the blow, received the
blade of the knife in his thigh. In the scuffle the handle
broke off, and left the whole blade fast in the wound. At
the same time Wolf made a stroke at the Indian, the
blade of his knife entering the breast-bone. Just then
Ferguson came to Wolf's assistance; but the Indian,
taking up Wolf's gun, struck him on the head a most
fearful blow, and brought him to the earth, laying bare
his skull from the crown to the ear. Here the sanguinary
conflict ended; and so rapid was the work of bloodshed
that all was accomplished in less time than I have taken
to relate it.
When the deadly strife ended, the foes of Waw-wil-away were all lying at his feet, and had he been able to have
followed up his blows he would have dispatched them,
for they were completely in his power. But his strength
failed him, and perhaps his sight; for he must have been
in the agonies of death during the whole conflict. It
may be that the poor Indian relented, and that forgiveness played like a sunshine around his generous heart.
He cast one glance upon his fallen foes; then turning
away, he walked out into the grass, and fell upon his?ace amid the wild flowers of the prairie, where his heart,




14(          AxtiOBIloiAVAPiiI oF
which never ceased to beat with kindness for uhe whitl
man, at once and forever was still.
During the entire engagement he never spoke a word.
Silently he acted his part in the fearful drama, as thougl
moved by an invisible agency. The conduct of Wolf
and his comrades was the most dastardly and mean,
and deserves the execration of the world. They first
attempted to disarm him by throwing the priming out
of his gun, and then talking with him, and parting undel
the mask of friendship. Had Wolf and his companions
supposed him to have been accessory to the death of
Herrod in any way, he would have gone with theni
cheerfully to Old Town or Chilicothe, and given himself
up to an investigation. But Wolf was determined on
murder, and the blood of Waw-wil-a-way rests on his
head.
Williams was found dead of his wounds. Wolf was
carried home in a wagon, and the knife-blade extracted
by a surgeon. Ferguson's wound was dressed, but both
of these suffered much.  The body of the chief was
found where it fell, and it was pronounced by the surgeon-Dr. Edmiston-who examined his wounds, that
either of them must have proved mortal. It seemed that
Providence designed he should, in some degree, avenge
his own death.
The death of this great and good Indian chief added
fuel to the excitement which had preceded it. The Indians in the neighborhood fled in one direction, and the
whites in another. Neither party knew what to do.  Al]
was dismay and confusion.
In this dreadful state of suspense and alarm, General
M'Arthur and Governor Worthington, with a few others,
mounted their horses and went into the Indian country
near Fort Greenville, where they found a numerous body
of Indians, among whom was the far-famed and celebra



REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                141
led chief, Tecumseh, or Shooting Star, as this name signities. With these Indians a council was held. They related what had happened, narrating all the circumstances
connected with the death of Captain Herrod and Wawwil-a-way. The Indians declared they had no knowledge
of these transactions, and reiterated their purpose to stand
firm by the treaty made at that place. After some further
deliberation between the parties, Tecumseh agreed to accompany them to Chilicothe, which he did. After their
arrival, a day was fixed on which he would address all
the people. At the appointed time a vast assemblage was
convened. The interpreter for the occasion was a white
man by the name of Riddle, who had been for many years
a prisoner among the Indians. Governor Tiffin opened
the talk, and after he had finished and sat down Tecumseh arose. His personal appearance was prepossessing.
His figure was tall and commanding. Native dignity sat
enthroned upon his massive brow; and while this son of
the forest-this shooting meteor-poured out the bright
flashes of wit and eloquence over the vast concourse, all
was silent as the grave. With the strongest language, he
spoke of the amicable relations subsisting between the Indians and their white brethren, and the determination of
the former forever to abide by the treaty.  He expressed
a hope that it would be kept inviolate by both parties,
and that brotherly love would be long and lasting as time
between the white man and the Indian. When he concluded, the sachems shook hands in token of the friendship and fellowship existing between both parties. This
interview allayed all alarm, and the people all returned
again to their quiet homes and peaceful pursuits.
There was one exception, however, to the general tranquillity. Waw-wil-a-way, as before related, had two sons,
who had, in obedience to their religion, vowed to be revenged on Wolf for the death of their father.  According




1422          AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
to the custom of the Indians, the nearest kin to the murdered man has a right, and it is made his duty, to kill the
murderer whenever or wherever he could find him, unless
the murderer purchased his life by a certain price agreed
upon by the family. Wolf, hearing of the intentions of
the sons of the murdered chief, took his family and re
moved to Kentucky, at the same time employing an agent
to intercede with the young men. A negotiation was
fnally entered into, and the agent agreed to furnish eachb
of the young Indians with a horse, a new saddle and bridle,
and a new rifle. On complying with this condition, they
agreed to bury the tomahawk and make peace with him
and his forever. Wolf agreed to the proposition, and the
time and place were fixed upon for the fulfillment of the
contract.
A large concourse was assembled at Old Town, to witness the Indian ceremonies. A hollow square was formed,
in which were Wolf and his horses and trappings, and the
two Indians. The Indians, in relinquishing their claim to
the life of the murderer, raised their hands toward heaven,
invoking the Great Spirit, declaring that to him alone they
transferred the blood and life of Wolf, forfeited by the
death of their father. The scene was full of the most
impressive solemnity, and many were moved to tears. In
token of their forgiveness, they advanced and took Wolf
by the hand —the same bloody hand which sent their beloved father to the grave and made them orphans. Then
saluting him as a brother, they lighted the calumet, or
pipe of peace, and smoked with him in the presence of the
Great Spirit. They remained good friends ever afterward,
and often visited each other.
I have selected the above as one of the many tragical
occurrences of those days; and though some may think I
ought to pass over such scenes of carnage and death, yet.
as a faithful chronicler of the times in which I lived, I




REV. JAMES B. FIBNLEY                 143
think it dae to posterity to know through what perils uheir
fathers passed, and what were the circumstances by which
they were surrounded. The only way to judge correctly
of human character, is to take into the account the circumnstances under which it was developed.
The trials which our fathers and mothers endured in
the early settlement of this country, and the fortitude
evinced by them in the hour of danger, should never be
forgotten by their sons and daughters.  Before closing
this chapter, I will relate an incident which occurred on
Bear Grass, in Kentucky, near where the city of Louisville now stands.  A gentleman by the name of Atkinson
had removed, with his family, from some of the older settlements, to this place, and with his colored servants, had
opened a farm. Before, however, the forests were leveled
around him, or he had realized the bright anticipations in
which he had indulged, he- fell by the stroke of death.
His wife and an only daughter, a beautiful and accomplished girl of fifteen summers, after his death, concluded
to remain in their new home. The scene of the husband's
and father's labors and death was rendered too sacred to
be left for any slight or transient cause. On a grassy
knoll, not far from the cottage, slept, in his long last sleep,
the idol of their hearts.  Thither they would repair, when
the early spring opened the buds, and plant flowers.
There, after the toils of the day, that lonely child would
wander, to weep and pray; and often have the stars, those
bright sentinels of heaven, looked down from the blue
depths, to watch the devotions of the pure spirit lingering
there.
About one year after this melancholy event, the daughter was out later than usual, accompanied by a faithful
servant. Seeming unwilling to leave the spot where her
heart's treasure was entombed, she tarried, pensive and
sad, when suddenly she was startled by a low growl in




144           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
the woods, apparently at a short distance from her.  Fearing it might be some beast of prey, with which the woods
were infested, she hastened home. So accustomed was
she to visit her father's grave in the evening, her mother
was not alarmed at her stay. When she entered the cottage, she was considerably agitated, and communicated
the cause of it to her mother.
The servants occupied quarters close at hand, and as
they were true and trusty, there was no great cause of
fear on the part of the mother and her daughter; but, on
retiring that night, they doubly barred the door of thelr
rude habitation. After they had retired to rest, they were
startled by an unusual noise in the yard.  The mother
sprang out of bed, and, adjusting her clothes, took down
the rifle, which hung over the door, and after examining,
cautiously, the load, and priming, she carefully opened
the door, and stepped into the yard. She looked in every
direction, but she could see nothing.  She walked around
the house, examining every corner, but still nothing was
to be seen. She also passed around the cabin of the servants, but could n6t detect the cause of the noise. She
returned into the house and sct down the gun.  Her
daughter had arisen, and dressed herself, and was stirring
up the fire. She assured her mother that there must be
some wild beast about the house, as she distinctly heard
its footsteps while she was out. Upon this, the mother
resolved to go to the cabin, and wake the servant Dan, a
bold and fearless negro.  She accordingly went and waked
him, and told him to get up, which he did as speedily as
possible, and after putting on his clothes, he came out
armed with a heavy stick. She directed him to go round
the house one way, and she would take the other. Before
they had proceeded ten steps, Mrs. Atkinson was seized
by a huge bear.  The negro immediately made a blow
with his club at tbh head of the animal, and stunned him




RIEV  JAMES B. FINLEY.                145
so that he let go his hold; but soon recovering himself,
he commenced his attack on Dan, who kept up a running
fight till he reached his lodge, which he did, and, slamming to the door, roused all the inmates.  Having thus
cut off his pursuit, the bear directed his course toward
Mrs. Atkinson, and, just as she was entering the door of
her house, caught her by her dress, and drew her toward
him.  At this critical moment the click of a gun-lock
was heard, which was instantly followed by the sharp
crack of a rifle; the bear relaxed his hold, doubled up,
and rolled over at her feet, in the last struggle.  An
unerring aim had sent a ball through his heart.
The daughter was a witness of the conflict in the yard;
but it was too dark for her to see to shoot, without the
light of her fire, and whenever the enemy came within its
range, his life paid the forfeit.
This intrepid act doubtless saved the mother's life.
That brave, yet delicate, affectionate, and dutiful child
became the high-souled, heroic woman.  Her skill, judgment, and bravery were often, in after years, relied upon
to guide the destiny of the infant settlements, during
many severe conflicts in the dark and bloody ground.
By marriage, this courageous backwoods girl became
connected with one of the first and most ancient families
of the south. Her descendants are numerous and respectable, inheriting the virtues and bravery of their mother,
figuring largely in the military, civil, and political history of the west; and they have not forgotten the story
of the bear.
Before closing this chapter I will relate another incident of backwoods bravery.
An aged lady, who died in Ross county some fifty years
since, related to me the following circumstance: When
she, with her family, went first to reside in Kentucky the
Indians attacked their cabin, and shot her husband,
10




1116         dAUTO3BIGRAPHY  OF
wounding him so badly that he was unable to render any
further assistance. They then tried to force the door
No person being with her in the house but a mulattc
boy, about seventeen years of age, they both flew to the
door, and pressed all their weight against it. An Indian
finally succeeding in getting his body partly into the
house, she seized the hand-ax, and killed him on the
spot.  They then succeeded in closing the door and
barring it. She then took her husband's gun, and, firing
through the port-hole, shot another Indian dead in the
yard. The other two-for there were four of themthen made preparations to descend the chimney; but no
sooner had one of them entered the flue, than ripping
open a pillow-case, she threw the feathers on the fire.
This so suffocated and scorched the Indian that he fell
into the fireplace, and the negro boy seizing him, he was
soon dispatched by the old lady in the same manner the
first aggresser was killed. There was but one Indian
left, and fearing he would meet the same sad fate which
befell his companions, he fled in dismay from the scene of
conflict.




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               147
CHAPTER VII.
LIFE IN THE WOODS.
I WILL now return to my personal narrative. After the
Detroit expedition, I spent the greater part of the wintel
in hunting. Having attained the age of twenty, I felt
considerable uneasiness and indeterminateness in regard
to my future course in life. There were many things to
divert my mind, and much that was calculated to produce
dissipation of thought.  An abundance of youthful company, with every variety of diversions, such as huskings,
quiltings, dancings, and plays of all descriptions, presented
themselves and were urged upon my attention. All these,
however, possessed not the charms of a hunter's life, and
I was not long in making my election.
In company with three of my companions, I made preparations to start out upon a winter's hunt. We agreed to
take no horses, and every man was to carry his own stock
of provisions and cooking utensils. So taking a few corndodgers, one camp-kettle, about a quart of salt, a blanket
apiece, and our hunting apparatus, we started for the
woods. After two days' travel, we arrived at a place
where there were bear signs in great abundance, but they
were not fresh. Here we camped and started out to hunt.
By this time our store of provisions was exhausted, and
the leaves being dry none of us were able to kill any
game. We tried hard the next day, but with the same
unsuccessful result, except that one of our party killed a
wild-cat. This ~ve prepared for our camp-kettle, and
when boiled;t made us the first meal we had partaken of




148          A1JTOBIOCGRAPHY  OF
foi two days. I shall always think it was the toughest
meal I ever ate.
Our object being to hunt bears, and finding that they
had all left that section and gone in quest of mast, we
resolved, if possible, to follow them. As there was no
snow on the ground, and we could not track them, the
only things we had to guide us in our search, were the
branches and soft muddy places over which they had
crossed. On the third day we concluded to take a large
circle and make observations. It was cloudy, and the
snow began to fall. About noon I fell in with two of my
companions, and supposing it to be near night, as the
clouds and snow had made it dark, we considered it time
to look out for a place to camp. We differed about the
course we should take, but finally yielding to the judgment of the oldest hunter, we traveled on till it began to
be quite dark. Despairing of finding any game, we were
about to stop and make preparations for camping, when
our dogs treed a large raccoon. Being dark, we could
not see the animal with any distinctness, and after several
ineffectual shots, at length a ball found its way to the
hapless victim, and he fell dead at our feet. This was, to
us, a source of great joy. Three days, with only one
poor wild-cat for three hearty hunters, was short fare;
and the reader may be assured that a fat coon was very
acceptable. We soon made preparations for a barbecue.
A fire was made, and we could hardly wait till our game
was roasted, till we were cutting and eating it. The coon
was exceedingly fat, and we wished very much for some
bread to catch the rich drippings.
Next morning the snow was a foot deep on the ground.
My moccasins were worn out on the bottom, and I was
obliged to peel lynn bark and make soles for them before
I could proceed. After drying ourselves as well as we
could, before our camp-fire-for we were much exposed to




REV. JA MES B. FINLEY.               14f
he snow during the night, and the only way we could
keep at all comfortable with our scanty clothing, was to
get the dogs to lie to our backs-we decamped.
We had not proceeded far till we came upon a large
flock or turkeys, and killing as many as we could carry,
for future use, we commenced retracing our steps, and,
finding but little game, we changed the object of pursuit
to that of deer. For this purpose we removed our camp
to the large bottoms of Paint creek, where we hunted
with good success, and had plenty to live on.
After getting all the skins and game that we could
carry, we returned home.
The holidays, such, for instance, as Christmas and
New-Year's, were spent in shooting-matches, dancing,
mnd frolicking, at which, in the language of the backwoodsman, I made a whole hand.  These diversions, as
I before remarked, were not altogether suited to my taste
or inclination.  I was still undecided in regard to what
course I should pursue in future life. If I went into the
practice of medicine, I saw or thought I saw innumerable
difficulties connected therewith. To be always with the
sick and dying, and constantly to breathe an atmosphere
of sighs and disease, was far from being agreeable to my
feelings. Besides, the collection of the fees, which, of all
others, are the most uncertain, added to the great responsibilities of the profession, with not one hour to call my
own, seemed entirely too great an undertaking for me at
that time.  Then I would be totally deprived of the
pleasures of hunting, whose peaceful enjoyments had the
greatest charms for my youthful imagination.  After
weighing all these considerations, I finally resolved on
adopting a hunter's life. This being settled, the next
thing was to get me a wife suited to this mode of living,
and, after taking advice from my mother in so important
P matter, I Made my choice. On the third day of March,




150 0-AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
1801, i was accordingly married to Hannah Strane. My
father having bought land in what is now Highland
county, I resolved to move, and take possession. This
section of the country was then a dense wilderness, with
only here and there a human habitation. My father-inlaw, being unsatisfied with his daughter's choice, did not
even allow her to take her clothes, so we started out,
without any patrimony, on our simple matrimonial stock.
to make our fortune in the woods. With the aid of my
brother John, I built a cabin in the forest, my nearest
neighbor being three miles off. Into this we moved, without horse or cow, bed or bedding, bag or baggage. We
gathered up the leaves and dried them in the sun; then,
picking out all the sticks, we put them into a bed-tick.
F or a bedstead, we drove forks into the ground, and laid
sticks across, over which we placed elm bark. On this
we placed our bed of leaves, and had comfortable lodging. The next thing was to procure something to eat.
Of meat we had an abundance, supplied by my rifle, but
we wanted some bread. I cut and split one hundred rails
for a bushel of potatoes, which I carried home on my
back, a distance of six miles. At the same place I worked
a day for a hen and three chickens, which I put into my
hunting-shirt bosom, and carried home as a great prize.
Our cabin was covered with bark, and lined and floored
with the same material. One end of the cabin was left
open for' a fireplace. In this we lived comfortably all
summer. Having no horse or plow, I went into a plum
bottom near the house, and, with my ax, grubbed and
cleared off an acre and a half, in which I dug holes with
my hoe, and planted my corn, without any fence around
it. I cultivated this patch as well I could with my ho,,
and Providence blessed my labor with a good crop, of
over one hundred bushels. Besides, during the summer,
with the help of my wife, I put up a neat cabin, and fiU.




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               151
ished. it for our winter's lodgings. For the purpose of
making the cabin warm, I put my corn in the loft, and
now, if we could not get bread, we had always, as a good
substitute, plenty of hominy. We had also plenty of bearmeat and venison, and no couple on earth lived happier
or more contented. Our Indian friends often called, and
staid all night, and I paid them, in return, occasional
visits.
During the season several families settled in the neighborhood, and, when we were together, we enjoyed life
without gossip and those often fatal bickerings and backbitings which destroy the peace of whole communities.
Of all people on the face of God's earth, I despise a gossiping tattler, whose chief business is to retail slander
from house to house, and ruin the peace of families. I
would rather meet a lioness bereft of her whelps, a bean
of her cubs, a hungry panther, or a revengeful savage,
than a living human being in the form of a tattler, with
smooth tongue and slimy feet. Though W e had but little,
our wants were few, and we enjoyed our simple and
homely possessions with a relish the purse-proud aristocrat never enjoyed. A generous hospitality characterized
every neighbor, and what we had we divided to the last
with each other. When any one wanted help, all were
ready to aid.
I spent the greater part of the winter in hunting and
laying up a store of provisions for the summer, so that I
might give my undivided attention to farming. As we
had no stock to kill, and could not conveniently raise
hogs, on account of the wild animals, which would carry
them off, we were obliged to depend upon the product of
the woods.
As the bear was the most valuable, we always hunted
for this animal. This fall there was a good mast, and
bears were so plentiful that it was not necessary to gp




152           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
from home to hunt them. About Christmas we made out
turkey hunt. At that season of the year they are very
fat, and we killed them in great abundance. To preserve
them we cleaned them, cut them in two, and, after salting
them in troughs, we hung them up to dry. They served
a valuable purpose to cook, in the spring and summer,
with our bear, bacon, and venison hams. Being dry, we
would stew them in bear's oil, and they answered a good
substitute for bread, which, in those days, was hard to
be obtained, the nearest mill being thirty miles distant.
Another great difficulty w as to procure salt, which sold
enormously high —at the rate of four dollars for fifty
pounds. In backwoods currency, it would require four
buck-skins, or a large bear-skin, or sixteen coon-skins, to
make the purchase.  Often it could not be had at any
price, and the only way we had to procure it, was by
packing a load of kettles on our horses to the Scioto salt
lick, and boiling the water ourselves. Otherwise we had
to dispense with it entirely. I have known meat cured
with strong hickory ashes.
I imagine I hear the reader saying this was hard living
and hard times. So they would have betn to the present
race of men, but those who lived at that time enjoyed life
with a greater zest, and were more healthy and happy
than the present race. We had not then sickly, hyster.
ical wives, with poor, puny, sickly, dying children, and
no dyspeptic men constantly swallowing the nostrums of
quacks. When we became sick unto death, we died at
once, and did not keep the neighborhood in a constant
state of alarm for several weeks, by daily bulletins of our
dying. Our young women were beautiful without rouge,
color de rose, meen fun, or any other cosmetic, and blithesome without wine and fruit-cake. There was then no
curvature of the spine, but the lasses were straight and
tine-looking, without corsets or whalebone  They were




DEV. S D *                           1'M  l* 
neat in their appearance, and fresh as the morning, in
their homespun, without the paraphernalia of a la Parisian wardrobe and toilet.
Young ladies did not then weep over the sickly sentimentalism of a Bulwer, or Dickens, or Eugene Sue, or
become corrupted by the yellow-covered literature which
is now, like the frogs of Egypt, infesting our land.  They
were not annoyed with any Don-Juan-puff-cigaros, with
his long hair and face resembling a worn-out hearthbrush, and whose long ears indicated to what species
of the genus homo he belonged. The hard-fisted, honest
ye~omanry of the country, instead of being the mere product of the tailor or hair-dresser, were nature's noblemen,
and their associates.
I know it is said, "lTempora mutantur, Bnos mutamer
cum ilius;" but I don't believe the doctrine.  The evershifting phases of the times would prove a poor guide for
anv sensible man. And yet I would not be an insufferable croaker, and  repudiate  all progress-westhetical,
social, and intellectual-any more than I would reject
progress in the physical sciences and religion. I would
only protest against the needless and hurtful superfluities
of fashionable life.
But a truce to this, and I will resume my personal
narrative.
When the spring opened I was better prepared to go
to farming than I was the last season, having procured
horses and plow. Instead of the laborious and tedious
process of working the land with a hoe, I now commenced
plowing. Providence crowned my labors with abundant
success, and we had plenty to eat and wear. Of course,
our wants were few and exceedingly simple, and the
products of the soil and hunting yielded a rich supply.
Thus we lived within ourselves on our own industry, oui
only dependence being upon the favors of an overruling,




15~           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
bountiful Benefactor. We spun and wove our own fabrics
for clothing, and had no tax, no muster, no court, nt
justices, no lawyers, no constables, and no doctors, and,
consequently, had no exorbitant fees to pay to professional gentlemen. The law of kindness governed our
social walks; and if such a disastrous thing' as a quarrel
should break out, the only way to settle the difficulty was
by a strong dish of fisticuffs. No man was permitted to
insult another without resentment; and if an insult was
permitted to pass unrevenged, the insulted party lost his
standing and caste in society. Many a muss or spree was
gotten up, in which the best of friends quarreled and
fought, through the sole influence of the brown jug.
It was seldom we had any preaching; but if a traveling minister should come ai3,t,g and make an appointment,
all would go out to preaching. If the preaching was on
a week-day, the men would go in their hunting-shirts,
with their guns. On Sabbath the gun was left at home,
but the belt and knife were never forgotten. When assembled all was attention and order, and no one was allowed
to behave disorderly, as such conduct would have been
punished, and the miscreant driven from decent society.
Such was the high sense of honor and decorum, that
a young woman would discard the society of any young
man who would be guilty of overstepping the bounds
of propriety.
We have fallen, however, upon different times. In the
rapid march of civilization and refinement, we find young
men, " nice young men," and, strange to say, young
women, too, who can, on these occasions, with the most
unblushing effrontery, desecrate the house of God, and
disturb a whole congregation of worshipers, without eliciting any censure from a large majority.
I once went a considerable distance to hear father John
Collins preach. When I arrived there the house wan




REV. JAMES B. FINXLEY.              155
filled to overflowing. Being just able to crowd in the
door, I stood listening, deeply interested with the soft,
sweet tones of his silvery voice, as he described the love
of God to man. Every sentence increased my interest,
so that I would not have lost a word for-a world. Just
when my interest was wrought up to the highest pitch of
intensity, a fellow, without sense or manners, commenced
disturbing the congregation by talking and moving about.
I told him two or three times to be quiet, but he still
persisted. So I took him by the arm, and led him out
some distance from the house, intending to give him a
severe horsewhipping for his impudence and insolence;
but he pleaded so hard and pitifully, and promised never
to be guilty of so mean an act again, that I let him go.
At that time there were but few schools in the country,
and they were like angels' visits. The schoolmaster was
evidently abroad. The most of the children were, however, taught to read; as for writing, that was an accomplishment for which they had no use. Those who had
the rare privilege of going to school generally graduated
in a quarter. The Sabbath day was usually spent in visiting, hunting, and fishing; but notwithstanding this was
the general practice when there were no meetings, I
never could indulge in it, for two reasons: First, I was
taught, from my youth up, to " remember the Sabbath day,
and keep it holy," and my conscience would condemn me
more for a breach of this commandment than for almost
any other sin I committed. Second, I had a conviction that
if I hunted on the Sabbath day I would have no luck all
through the next week. I observed that those who madc
a practice of hunting on that day were always the most
unsuccessful hunters.
I once broke this commandment of God. It was a
most lovely day. The sun rose bright and clear. All
nature rejoiced in his light. The birds sang sweetly their




P16            AUTOBfOGR  APHIY  OF
inatin songs, and a holy quiet reigned around, save when
all occasional hunter's gun would break the stillness, sounding as harsh almost as discord in heaven. Strange that
I should, under such circumstances, be tempted; and yet
I was powerfully, irresistibly tempted. I persuaded my
wife to go to the nearest neighbor's, with a promise that I
would soon follow. When she was gone, I took my gun,
ran about a mile from home, and seeing a fine, large
buck, I fired, and killed him; then taking out his entrails,
I threw him over a log, and returned. When I arrived
at home I began to feel safe in the reflection, that no one
had seen me; but quick as lightning Conscience reared
her terrific scepter, and uttered, in a voice of thunder,
"God has seen you, and you have shown that you fear
man more than you do God." How much then did I
wish my load back in my gun, and the buck alive, grazing
in his own native forest! Wicked as I was, I was accu;tomed to pray for luck in hunting; and I believed then
that God often heard and answered my prayers. Once,
in particular, my brother John and myself had been
hunting for three entire days without success, and were
hungry as wolves.  The leaves were so dry it was impos.sible for us to get near enough to any game to shoot it.
Weary and faint, I prayed to God for help. My brother,
being on the opposite side of a branch, as soon as I ceased
praying, started up a buck, which ran directly toward me.
I was as much impressed with the belief that God had
sent him as that he sent the ram to the thicket on
Moriah. After coming near to me, he stopped, and ]
shot him.
This fall a neighbor and myself, urged by our wives,
went some distance to gather cat-tails to make them beds,
as the leaf beds were nearly worn out. We entered upon
the journey, and had not proceeded many miles till out
dog started up a bear, and soon ran it up a tree.  I




REV. JAMAES B. FINLEY.               157
rema'ned there only a short time, when it let go and came
down. I sprang from my horse and ran while the dogs
were fighting, and forgetting to cock my gun, placed the
muzzle of it against the bear and pulled the trigger, but
it would not fire; so I threw it down, and taking my tomahawk was about to strike, when it broke loose and ran
away. Soon after this we saw a large buck running across
our track. I bleated; he stopped, and I shot him.
After gathering our bags full of cat-tails, we started,
about sundown, to hunt a place to camp. Soon after we
started, I heard the dogs after a bear. Leaving my horse
with my companion, I ran half a mile and found a large
bear treed by the dogs. It was getting dark, but taking
as good aim as I could I fired and he fell, but was only
wounded and regained his position.  I loaded and fired
again, and again he fell; but before I could reload he was
up and fighting with the dogs. I ran up to him, placed
my gun against his ear, and killed him. Here we entamped all night and feasted on the deer which we had
killed, and in the morning we breakfasted on the bear's
feet, which had been roasting in the ashes all night. This
meal constitutes the richest conceivable delicacy. Some
hunters think a beaver's tail is better, or the marrow from
the joint of a buffalo, but I beg leave to differ. Those
who have been living on puddings and confectionaries
know nothing of these good things.
This was an unlucky year to me, as I lost all the property I had by going security, or appearance-bail, at court
for one of my neighbors. It being forty miles to Chilicothe, I did not go to lift my bonds; and after judgment
went against him he ran away, and they held me special
bail for the debt, which I always believed was unjust. I
knew nothing of the matter till the deputy sheriff came
with an execution. I had in my possession one hundred
acres of military land, and had made good and substantial




158           AUTOBIOGRAPHY- OF
improvements thereon, but all must go to pay the debts
of another. It made a clean sweep; took all my land
and all the money I had to the last farthing. I then
vowbd that I would never again, as long as I lived, go
security for any living being. Right or wrong as this
vow may have been, I have kept it to this day.
I consoled my wife as well as I could, and told her we
were young, and had begun the world with nothing, and
would do it again. I requested her to stay at home, and
keep house, and I would take to the woods and hunt.
Bear-skins commanded a good price-from three to seven
dollars, according to the size and quality. I spent the
winter mostly in the woods, and suffered much from lying
out at night without bed-clothes or bed, only as I could
make one out of dry bark. I wrapped skins around me
and laid by the fire. It was a prosperous winter, and
success, the most sanguine, crowned my days and nights
of toil and privation. From the proceeds of my winter
campaign, I was enabled to purchase as good a home as
that from which the law had ejected me.
Thus I passed seven years, farming in the summer and
hunting in the winter, and adding to my resources till I
had a comfortable home, with every thing necessary to
make a backwoodsman happy. But my neighbors became
too numerous, and my hunting-grounds were broken in
upon by the ax of civilization; game became scarce and
hard to take; my ranges were broken up, and I had about
come to the conclusion to go to a new country. It seemed
as though my happiness depended upon a life in the
woods -"the grand old woods," where Nature had erected
her throne, and where she swayed her scepter.
Alone in the deep solitude of the wilderness man can
commune with himself and Nature and her God, and real
ize emotions and thoughts that the crowded city never can
produce. To oe sure one has said, "A  great city is a




REV. JAMES  B. FINLEY.                    159
great desert;" but it is a desert of depraved humanity,
where every one is wrapped up in selfishness, and guards
himself against his neighbor while his heart rankles wltn
envy at his prosperity, or his wild, unbridled ambition
urges him  on the reckless coulse of outstripping all his
competitors.  Not so in the woods.  There pride, envy,
selfishness, and ambition have no abode. The only evil
spirit that haunts the woods is Melancholy.  This wili
often steal upon the heart of those who have not found
the satisfying portion which religion imparts.  There are
some scenes in the wilderness where a gloomy grandeur
reigns around, and they often inspire like sensations In the
mind of the beholder. Speaking of Melancholy, a certain
poet says:' She dwells by a cave, where the cypress and willow
Are gemmed with the tears that fall from hei eyes
The cold earth her bed, the flint-stonebher pilow,
Midnight her mantle, her curtain the skies;
Her tresses are dark as the wings of the raven,
Her robes are all jet, and her bosom is bare;
Like a bark on the waves,'mid the whirlwinds of heaven,
She wanders distracted, or sinks to despair."
Unexcited by the chase, the hunter, especially if alone,
is apt to become melancholy; and though sages may speak
of "the charms of solitude," the mind, without some
stimulus, would not be likely to discover them. Again
and again have I felt this melancholy steal over me like a
cloud over the face of the sun; and were it possible to
write out my thoughts, conjectures, imaginings, hopes,
fears, and temptations while alone in the woods, it would
startle a reader unused to such scenes and associations
Often a stirring adventure would break in upon the dead
sea of thought or the whirlpool of passion, reusing the
one or calming the other, and again the life would flow
on in the even tenor of its way.
On one occasion my feelings underwent a sudden trans



160           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
fcrmation by an incident which occurred. I had beer
brooding in melancholy over my bad luck, when a large
she bear, started up by my dogs, broke the reverie. I
shot at and wounded her; but she had attacked my dogs
and was killing one of them. No time was to be lost, so
I ran up and thrust my knife into her side. At this she
released her hold of the dog and caught me by the leg.
In my effort to get released I was thrown upon my back
She then made an attack on me, and I felt that scarcely
any thing short of a miracle could save me. Already I
could see her wide, distended jaws ready to devour me.
The dogs, though wounded, recommenced the attack, and
succeeded in pulling her off, and thus saved me from
death. Being released, I succeeded in killing my enemy.
At another time, my neighbor was with me hunting coons.
At night the dogs caught some animal in a grape-vine
thicket. I ran in to see what it was, and stooping down
found myself directly between the horns of a large buck,
which had become entangled in the vine. I was now literaiiy between the horns of a dilemma. My companion
cut the ham-strings, and I took hold of one horn and
placed my feet onf the other for the purpose of throwing
him. At this he made one lunge, broke the vine. and
threw  me some distance on my back. Had my feet
silpped, I would doubtless have been gored to death.
Thus I have endeavored to give the reader some account of the scenes and trials through which I passed ip
the woods of the west.




tREV. JAMES B  FINLEY.             16i
CHAPTER VIII.
RELIGIOUS LIFE.
HAVING given some small account of my training in the
woods, I will now go back and give the reader some account of my religious education. As I before remarked,
I was raised by Presbyterian parents. As customary in
that Church, a custom too, I would remark, worthy of all
praise, I was taught the catechism. From this I learned
ihat God, from all eternity, had elected some men and
angels to everlasting life, and passed by the remainder,
ordaining them to eternal death. This election and reprobation was unconditional. Though young, I could not
see the reason or justice of such a procedure on the part
of God, and it gave me a very unfavorable impression in
regard to the character of the Supreme Being. I recollect, distinctly, of being harassed with fear, under the
impression that God had decreed I should commit some
crime, and be hung for it. Associated with this was the
resolution, on my part, that if he had thus decreed, I
would always be the enemy of God. These impressions
arose from an inability, on my part, to reconcile the punishment of the creature for the commission of sins which
God had decreed he should commit, and the justice of
God in the infliction of that punishment.
One Sabbath afternoon my father called us up to repeat
our catechism, as was his custom. After the lesson was
over, he called me to him, and said, "James, do you
pray?" I replied, "No, father, I do not."
"Why do you not pray, my son?"
11




162           A UTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
"Because I do not see any use in it. If I am one of
the elect, I will be saved in God's good time; and if I
am one of the non-elect, praying will do me no good, as
Chlist did not die for them."
"But, James, you do not know whether you are one of
the elect or non-elect; and, as God has wisely concealed
this from you, you ought to pray, any how."
To this, of course, I could make no reply, without reiterating my former declaration of the needlessness c!
prayer.
This doctrine had well nigh-ruined me, and often I
was harassed with doubt and temptation; and, at times,
almost sunk into despair. Sometimes I was led to doubt
the very existence of God. The Holy Spirit often convicted me, and I felt my lost and undone condition as a
sinner. These convictions were deepened and strengthened under the prayers of my pious grandmother, an account of whose death I have already given. Not knowing how to seek the Lord, I remained in this wretched
condition till I was fifteen years of age. At this time I
had put into my hands Winchester's Dialogues, the design of which was to prove the final redemption from hell
of all. This I read over and over again with great care,
and it proved a sovereign balm to all my fears. It represented God as being so merciful, that it inspired a love
for him, and I became a convert to the doctlice of the
final restoration of all men to the favor of God. I read
the Bible to establish my faith, and boldly advocated the
doctrine with my Calvinistic associates, many of whom A
was enabled to overcome with my arguments. I also
took occasion to show up the glaring inconsistencies of the
doctrine which saved or damned men arbitrarily.  This,
to me, was wholly incompatible with the attributes of justice and mercy. Many of my companions' looked upon
my views with favor, and were pleased with my profession




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                163
of faith. Finally it got to the ears of my parents that I
had become a believer in hell redemption; and the news
also spread among the Seceders and Covenanters-all of
whom were Old School Calvinists-that the pastor's son
had become a renegade from the faith of his fathers.
This brought me. into a new field of conflict with older
and wiser heads. One of the elders attacked me at a logrolling, and I thought he would demolish me, and make
me a butt for ridicule'. I told him I was but a boy, and
not able to controvert with him, but if he would answer
one or two questions, I would be pleased. He agreed to
my proposal.
Then said I, "Did Christ die for all men?"
"No., he did not die for any but the elect."
"Will the reprobate be damned?"
"Yes; God, for the praise of his glorious justice, has
decreed their damnation."
"For what is the reprobate damned?"
"Because it is so decreed, even so, according to the
good pleasure of God's will."
"But the Scriptures say the reprobate is damned for
unbelief.' He that believeth not, shall be damned.' Now,
if Christ did not die for Lim, according to your system
he is to be damned for not believing what is in itself not
true. In other words, he is to be damned for not believing a lie."
At this he seemed confused, and fifially became angry,
and said if I was his son, he would soon whip such neo
tions out cf my head. I told him be could not, unless it
had been decreed. After this I became very obnoxious
to the high-toned Calvinists, and they looked upon me as
very dangerous to their young people. This increased
my prejudice, and excited my ambition, and I sought
every opportunity to have my faith confirmed, so that I
might successfully contend with my opponents.  At some




164           AUTOBIOGRAPITY  OF
times my faith would waver, in spite of all my effoits to
bolster it up, and my conscience would sting me with
remorse.  The thought that perhaps the doctrine was not
true, and my soul would be lost, would produce the most
intense emotion in my mind. At that time there weru
none of those last and worst of all editions of Universalism, namely, that all will be saved, no matter what they
believe, or what they do, because there was no devil, and
no hell; and, hence, none could go'to a place which has
no existence. Such doctrines not being taught, I could
not, of course, embrace them; nor do I believe I was ever
so ignorant or wicked, the worst day I ever saw, as to believe a doctrine so grossly inconsistent with reason and
Scripture, so false in fact, and so dangerous in tendency 
but I thought that if God had brought m.e into the world,
without my consent, for his own purposes, it was no concern of mine, and all I had to do was to be honest, enjoy
life, and perform the errand of my destiny.
Thus I entered fully and freely into all parties of pleas-'fre, except gambling, and although I could hold a good
S)and at cards, yet to play for stakes I had no relish.
Indeed, I was afraid of this, for I always thought I could
see the devil presiding over such games. Dancing constituted my chief joy; to enter its giddy mazes, and enjoy
its frenzied whirl, afforded me the most pleasurable excitement.  Occasionally I would take a spree; would
swear when angry; and fight, when insulted, at the drop
of a hat. Backwoods boys were brought up to the trade
of "knock down, and drag out."
In the midst of all this mirth and revelry I dared not
think of death and eternity. The thought was appalling,
and in my moments of calm reflection I would resolve
upon a reformation of life. A strictly moral life I regarded as the only true religion; and I believed all who'ed such a life would go to heaven.




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               165
Thus I lived thoughtless and wicked, resolving ana reresolving upon amendment, but continuing,he same, or,
rathtr, growing worse and worse, till I arrived at the
twentieth year of my age. About this time a great revival of religion broke out in the state of Kentucky. It
was attended with such peculiar circumstances as to produce great alarm all over the country. It was reported
that hundreds who attended the meetings were suddenly
struck down, and would lie for hours and, sometimes, for
days, in a state of insensibility; and that when they recovered and came out of that state, they would commence
praising God for his pardoning mercy and redeeming love.
This exercise was accompanied with that strange and unaccountable phenomenon denominated the jerks, in which
hundreds of men and women would commence jerking
backward and forward with great rapidity and violence, so
much so that their bodies would bend so as to bring their
heads near to the floor, and the hair of the women would
crack like the lash of a driver's whip. This was not confined to any particular class of individuals, but saint,
seeker, and sinner were alike subject to these wonderful
phenomena.
The excitement created by these reports, was of the
most intense' and astonishing character. Some thought
that the world was coming to an end; others that some
dreadful calamity was coming upon the country as a judgment of God on the nation; others still, that it was the
work of the devil, who had been unchained for a season,
and assuming the garments of an angel of light, was permitted to deceive the' ministers of religion and the very
elect themselves. Miany of the preachers spent whole
Sabbaths in laboring to show that it was the work of the
devil, and nothing but the wildest fanaticism, produced
through the means of an overheated and distempered imagination. They also urged their congregations not to go




166           AUTOBIOGRAPIY O9
near these places, as they would be sympathetically
affected, and would, in all probability, be led to indulge
In the same wild. and irrational vagaries.  Their instruc
tions and exhortations, however, were lost, and it seemed
that the exposition only increased the desire of thousands
to go and see for themselves.
In the month of August, 1801, I learned that there was
to be a great meeting at Cane Ridge, in my father's old
congregation. Feeling a great desire to see the wonderful
things which had come to my ears, and having been solicited by some of my old schoolmates to go over into Kentucky for the purpose of revisiting the scenes of my boyhood, I resolved to go. Obtaining company, I started
from my woody retreat in Highland county. Having
reached the neighborhood of the meeting, we stopped and
put up for the night. The family, who seemed to be
posted in regard to all the movements of the meeting,
cheerfully answered all our inquiries, and gave us all the
information we desired. The next morning we started
for the meeting. On the way I said to my companions,
"Now, if I fall it must be by physical power and not by
singing and praying;" and as I prided myself upon my
manhood and courage, I had no fear of being overcome by
any nervous excitability, or being fiightened into religion.
We arrived upon the ground, and here a scene presented
itself to my mind not only novel. and unaccountable, but
awful beyond description. A vast crowd, supposed by
some to have amounted to twenty-five thousand, was collected together.  The noise was like the roar of Niagara.
The vast sea of human beings seemed to be agitated as if
by a storm. I counted seven ministers, all preaching; at
one time, some on stumps, others in wagons, and one-the
Rev. William Burke, now of Cincinnati —was standing on
A tree which had, in failling, lodged against another.
Some of the people were singing, others praying, some




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY               167
ervying for mercy in the most piteous accents, while others
were shouting most vociferously. While witnessing these
scenes, a peculiarly-strange sensation, such as I had never
felt before, came over me. My heart beat tumultuously,
my knees trembled, my lip quivered, and I felt as though
I must fall to the ground. A strange supernatural power
seemed to pervade the entire mass of mind there collected.
I became so weak and powerless that I found it necessary
to sit down. Soon after I left and went into the woods,
and there I strove to rally and man up my courage. l
tried to philosophize in regard to these wonderful exhibi..
tions, resolving them into mere sympathetic excitement —
a kind of religious enthusiasm, inspired by songs and eloquent harangues. My pride was wounded, for I had supposed that my mental and physical strength and vigor
could most successfully resist these influences.
After some time I returned to the scene of excitement,
the waves of which, if possible, had risen still higher.
The same awfulness of feeling came over me. I stepped
up on to a log, where I could have a better view of the
surging sea of humanity. The scene that then presented
itself to my mind was indescribable. At one time I saw
at least five hundred swept down in a moment, as if a
battery of a thousand guns had been opened upon them,
and then immediately followed shrieks and shouts that
rent the very heavens. My hair rose up on my head, my
whole frame trembled, the blood ran cold in my veins, and
I fled for the woods a second time, and wished I had staid
at home. While I remained here my feelings became
intense and insupportable. A sense of suffocation and
blindness seemed to come over me, and I thought I was
going to die. There being a tavern about half a mile off,
I concluded to go and get some brandy, and see if it
would not strengthen my nerves. When I arrived there J
was disgusted with the sight that met my eyes. Here I




168            AUTOBIOGRAPHIY  3F
saw about one hundred men engaged in drunken revelry,
playing cards, trading horses, quarreling, and fighting.
After some time I got to the bar, and took a dram and
left, feeling that I was as near hell as I wished to be,
either in this or the world to come. The brandy had no
effect in allaying my feelings, but, if any thing, made me
worse.  Night at length came on, and I was afraid to see
any of my companions. I cautiously avoided them, fearing lest they should discover something the matter with
me. In this state I wandered about from place to place,
in and around the encampment. At times it seemed as if
all the sins I had ever committed in my life were vividly
brought up in array before my terrified imagination, and
under their awful pressure I felt that I must die if I did
not get relief. Then it was that I saw clearly through the
thin vail of Universalism, and this refuge of lies was
swept away by the Spirit of God.  Then fell the scales
from my sin-blinded eyes, and I realized, in all its force
and power, the awful truth, that if I died in my sins I
was a lost man forever.  0, how I dreaded the death of
the soul; for
"There is a death whose pang
Outlasts the fleeting breath:
0 what eternal horrors hang
Around the second death!"
Notwithstanding all this, my heart was so proud and hard
that I would not have fallen to the ground for the whole
state of Kentucky. I felt that such an event would have
been an everlasting disgrace, and put a final quietus on
my boasted manhood and courage. At night I went to a
barn in the neighborhood, and creeping under the hay,
spent a most dismal night. I resolved, in the morning,
to start for home, for I felt that I was a ruined man.
Finding one of the friends who came over with me, I said,
"Captain, let us be off; I will stay no longer."  He assented, and getting our horses we started for home. We




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.              169
said but little on the way, though many a deep, longdrawn sigh told the emotions of my heart. When we
arrived at the Blue Lick Knobs, I broke the silence which
reigned mutually between us. Like long-pent-up waters,
seeking for an avenue in the rock, the fountains of my soul
were broken up, and I exclaimed, "Captain, if you and
I don't stop our wickedness the devil will get us both."
Then came from my streaming eyes the bitter tears,
and I could scarcely refrain from screaming aloud. This
startled and alarmed my companion, and he commenced
weeping too. Night approaching, we put up near Mayslick, the whole of which was spent by me in weeping and
promising God, if he would spare me till morning I would
pray and try to mend my life and abandon my wicked
courses.
As soon as day broke I went to the woods to pray, and
no sooner had my knees touched the ground than I cried
aloud for mercy and salvation, and fell prostrate. My
cries were so loud that they attracted the attention of the
neighbors, many of whom gathered around me. Among
the number was a German from Switzerland, who had experienced religion.  He, understanding fully my condition, had me carried to his house and laid on a bed. The
old Dutch saint directed me to look right away to the
Savior. He then kneeled at the bedside and prayed for
my salvation most fervently, in Dutch and broken English.
He then rose and sung in the same manner, and continued
singing and praying alternately till nine o'clock, when
suddenly my load was gone, my guilt removed, and.presently the direct witness from heaven shone full upon my
soul. Then there flowed such copious streams cf love
into the hitherto waste and desolate places of my soul,
that I thought I should die with excess of joy. I cried,
I laughed, I shouted, and so strangely did I appear to all,
but my Dutch brother, that they thought me deranged.
15




1 7C0          AUTOBIOGRAPHIY  OF
After a time I returned to my companion, and we startea
on our journey.  0 what a day it was to my soul! The
Sun of righteousness had arisen upon me, and all nature
seemed to rejoice in the brightness of its rising.  The
trees that waved their lofty heads in the forest, seemed to
bow them in adoration and praise.  The living stream of
salvation flowed into my soul. Then did I realize thr
truth of that hymn I have so frequently sung:
"i feel that heaven is now begun;
It issues from the sparkling throneFrom Jesus' throne on high:
It comes in floods I can't contain;
I drink, and drink, and drink again,
And yet am ever dry."
I told the captain how happy I was, and was often interrupted, in a recital of my experience, by involuntary
shouts of praise.  I felt a love for all mankind, and reproached myself for having been such a fool as to live so
long in sin and misery when there was so much mercy for
mle.
At length we arrived at home, and I told my wife what
great things the Lord had done for me. While I spoke
she commenced weeping, and began to seek the Lord.  I
also told my brother John, and soon the news spread
through the whole neighborhood that Finley had obtained
religion.  The difficulties the Christian has to encounter
have to be learned by experience. When I was converted,
I did not conceive how it was possible that even a single
shade of trouble could cross my peaceful breast. I soon
found, however, that the
"World was no friend to grace,
To help me on to God;"
and that if I would reign as a king and priest with God
and the Lamb forever, I must fight; bhat the only way
to the crown was by the cross. There were no religious
persons in the neighborhood, and no religious meetings to




REV - JAMlNES B. FINLEY.            171
attena. Persecution began to be w-tged against me, and
difficulties rose ulp on every hand; but still I strove to
watch, and fight, and pray, determined never to give the
battle over. I sent to my brother, and persuaded himn.
and another young man to come and unite with me in
holding prayer meeting, in the woods, on SabLath. One
has said,
"The groves were God's first temples;"
and heat, with no eye to see, and no ear to hear, but the
great Father, we held many meetings. Still I felt, deeply,
the need of Christian society. I had commenced family
prayer, and reading the Scriptures whenever I had a leisure moment. The backwoods Christian is shut up to his
Bible; and I have wondered if the great multiplication of
books has not had a deleterious tendency, in diverting the
mind from the Bible; just as the multiplicity of benevolent associations has a tendency to divert the mind from
the Church. This should not be; and, in fact, there is no
necessity for it, for there is room for all good books and
good associations, as auxiliaries.
I sighed for Church privileges, and communion with
the people of God. I could not join the Presbyterian
Church; for I did not believe in the doctrine of unconditional election and reprobation. I went to a New Light
camp meeting, to see if I could find a home among that
people; but when I heard their doctrine on the supreme
divinity of Jesus Christ, I would not go with them; for I
vi is well assured, if Christ was not God, he could not
save me; and I had such a clear and powerful demonstration of that truth, in the conversion of my own soul,
that I could never doubt, for a moment, that he was God,
as well as man. So I bade them farewell, and returned
home. The next denomination I visited, was the Shaking
Quakers; but their worship seemed to me so ridiculous, i
mould not entertain a serious thought about joining them.




]7~           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  Or
For a while I thought I would try and ti avel to heaven
alone. Thus I continued for about eighteen months, during which time the prayer meeting was discontinued. My
attention was directed to'the immorality of some professors of religion, known by the name of Seceders, which
had an unhappy effect on my mind. Some of them
scarcely had the form of godliness; the power they never
knew. One of them was carried home intoxicated, and
the next Sabbath I saw him at the communion table.
This, to me, was a great stumbling-block.
Shortly after my conversion I was exercised on the sub.
ject of preaching the Gospel, and so much so, that I could
not rest, day or night. I thought it a temptation of the
devil, and prayed to be delivered from it, but I could not
shake off the conviction. I belonged to no Church, and
consequently there was no way of getting into the ministry. I once opened my mind to a Presbyterian clergyman, and he gave it as his opinion, that I should study
theology at least three years, before I could be at all
qualified to preach. I thought it would be folly for me
to make the attempt; and hence I resisted the call, till,
from a state of robust health, I was reduced almost to a
walking skeleton. I had lost all my comfort, and became
gloomy and desponding. Religious exercises in my family
became a great task and burden.  One morning I went
out into the woods, and there told my Maker, if I must
preach the Gospel, or go to hell, that the latter must be
my portion, as I had not the least qualifications for the
work. Just then all comfort and hope left me, and I was
so'miserable that I wandered in the woods for months,
not desiring to look upon the face of any human being.
Family prayer was given up, and then followed, in the
sad train of evils connected with backsliding, the abandonment of prayer altogether, and a return to my former
companions. Tc mitigate, if possible, my wretchedness




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                173
i also returned to my former practices, and realized, with
Virgil,
"Facilis descensus Averni."
[he road to hell was easy of access, and rapid in descent.
I went to a dancing party in the neighborhood. As dancing was one of my greatest besetments, I was the more
easily beguiled by Satan to enter its magic circle. I had
not been long there till a lady invited me to dance with
her. I remarked that if she would get some one to dance
with my wife, I had no objections to complying with her
request. With much persuasion and effort on the part of
several, they succeeded in getting her out on the floor,
and I followed. After the conclusion of the first set, I
felt no more compunction of conscience, and concluded I
might as well live like other people, and that there was
no harm in indulging in -such innocent amusements; and
if there was, we would all go to hell together in accomplished and genteel society. Not so, however, with my
poor wife. She suffered extremely from a wounded conscience. wept nearly all night, and feared she had denied
her Savior, and put him to an open shame.
Thus I pursued the way of sin, seeking happiness in its
guilty pleasures, for a period of three years.  My eyes
were blinded, my heart hard as adamant. I had no
peace, no hope, and was without God in the world. A
thought of my former happiness would occasionally, in
hours of cool reflection, steal over my spirit, like forgotten
joys, pleasant but mournful; while the joys of the world
were
"Like odor, fled as soon as shed."
[ felt an aching void, that vanity could never fill; and
often did I sigh for those halcyon days of my religious
life when the morning dawn and the evening shades witnessed my devotions to God. But I had cast away my
confidence, and relinquished my hold on heaven, in ex



174           AUTOBIOGRAAPHY OF
change for the short-lived pleasures of sin, and a desolate
heart.
In the fall of 1808 brother John and myself started
out on our fall hunt. We were on horseback, and following a narrow path. I was a few paces in advance; and,
as we were winding up through the thicket, my gun,
which was on my shoulder, went off suddenly. In the
most awful suspense I ever experienced in all my life, I
stopped, and listened to hear my brother fall from his
horse. After the shock was over, fearing to look round,
the long agony was broken by my brother, who had
recovered from the shock, saying, "Brother James, I am
not hurt."  This relieved me for the moment, but my
soul was soon tossed by the tumultuous ragings of despair.
All my sins crowded upon me like so many demons of
darkness; my disobedience to God, my backslidings all
rose before me, and it seemed to me that hell was just at
hand, and that soon I must plunge into its dismal abodes.
No imagination, had it the fervor or flight of a Milton.
or Dante, could conceive, or pen describe the horror of
darkness and despair that enveloped my wretched, ruined
soul.




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.              175
CHAPTER IX.
RELIGIOUS LIFE CONTINUED.
GLOOMILY and sadly I traveled on in silence, under the
mountain pressure of my spirit-burden, occasionally answering a question from my brother. After having arrived at our place of camping, we spanceled, belled, turned
out our horses, and started to the woods in different directions, to hunt. Having obtained what I desired, which
was to be alone-for the heart can only know and appreciate its own bitterness-I realized, if possible, an increasing intensity to my feelings of wretchedness, and my
excited imagination filled the woods with demons of darkness. I thought I could feel their fearful proximity, and
once turned round to see if I could not discover them on
my track. Just then this temptation was suggested to
my mind: "You are one of the reprobates; Christ never
died for you; and God has raised you up, as he did Pharoah, to show his mighty power, in your eternal destruction. You had better kill yourself with your gun, and
know the worst of your wretched state; for the longer
you live, the more sin you will commit, and, hence, the
greater will be your damnation." This temptation came
with such tremendous force, it seemed irresistible, and I
was on the point of yielding, when, doubtless, my heavenly Father, in mercy, interposed a thought of my family.
"How," thought I, "will my dear wife and parents feel,
when my body is found, perhaps mangled and torn by
wild beasts?" Again the tempter assailed me with still
greater power; so much so, that I came to the dreadful




176           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
conclusion of falling by my own hand. While in the very
act of preparation to commit the fatal deed, my blessed
Lord —who has no pleasure in the death of a sinneragain interposed, and the following words came to my
mind, as sensibly as if audibly pronounced: "There is
yet mercy with God, if you will seek it." At this, I
threw down the deadly weapon, fell on my knees, and
prayed for mercy, confessing all my guilt and sin, and
sacredly vowing, if God would restore my former peace,
I would do any thing he would require: ay, that ]
would even try to preach the Gospel of his Son. 1 was
not conscious how long I remained in this state of agony
and prayer. When I rose from the ground, I picked up
my gun, ran back to the camp, fired it off, rolled myself
up in my blanket, and, throwing myself on the ground,
lay there till my brother John, who hearing the report of
the rifle, came into camp. When he arrived, finding me
lying down, he asked me if I was sick, or what was the
matter. He had a kind of presentiment that all was not
right, and, hence, he hastened to the camp on hearing
the report of the gun. I told him I did not know what
was the matter with me; but ever since the gun had gone
off in the morning, I felt as if he should die, and go to
hell; and "0, my brother," said I, "if the ball had hit
you, you would have been in torments before this time."
This seemed to convict him deeply; and, as we were both
unfitted for hunting, we determined on returning home.
Still I had no peace, and I prayed, and sought for
mercy day and night. "The hand of the Lord was
heavy upon me." I read the Bible, but it only increased
my condemnation. I found no happiness in the society
of any one, and fled to the woods every day. I did not
dare to take my gun with me, for fear I should, in the
hour of the power of darkness, commit suicide. Instead
of this, I took my Bible; and although it flashed out in




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               177
letters of fire my condemnation,'still my heart clung to it
as my only hope. The weather being quite cold, and
having no exercise, I would crawl, feet foremost, into a
hollow log, and there read, and weep, and pray. In this
way I spent three weeks. My wife and friends became
alarmed at my conditioh. No one understood my state
of mind, and hence there were none to administer comfort to my sin-sick soul. I thought I had committed the
unpardonable sin, and despair, with its gloomy horrors,
was about settling down, in all its sullen power, upon my
soul, when some friend put into my hands "Russel's
Seven Sermons."  This book I read with the most thrilling interest. I fairly devoured its contents, and endeavored to find from it some gleam of hope —
"Some beam of day to shine on me,
To save me from despair;"
and " as cold water to a thirsty soul, or good news from a
far country," it proved a balm to my wounded spirit.
Hope again sprung up in my heart, and I was comforted
with the conviction that God would have mercy and
abundantly pardon.
One day my wife manifested great anxiety to have me
go with her to a Methodist prayer and class meeting about
six miles distant, but my prejudices were so strong against
that people that I could not think of such a thing. From
the various reports I had heard concerning the Methodists,
I believed they were the worst of all deceivers, and, if possible, they would deceive the very elect themselves.  On
my declining she was much affected, and went out and
wept. This scene moved me, and I relented and told her
to get ready, and I would get the horses and we would
start. When we arrived there my presence seemed to
strike all with dismay. I had been so wicked that they
had all given me up to Satan, and I even bore the cognomen of "The Newmarket Devil."  The general inquiry
12




178           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
was, "What has brought him  to meeting?"  The time
Lavzing arrived for meeting to commence, it was opened ov
singing and prayer. I conformed to the rules, for I never
was wicked enough, devil though I was, in the estimation
of the people, to persecute the righteous, or show my illbreeding and vulgarity by disturbing a worshiping assembly, nor would I suffer any one else to do it where I was
without correcting them.  After several prayers, the
leader-Mr. Sullivan —rose and said, "We are now going
to hold our class meeting, and all who have enjoyed this
privilege twice or thrice will please retire, while those who
have not and are desirous of being benefited by the exercises may remain." I was anxious to be benefited, and
being favorably impressed, thus far, with the exercises,
concluded to remain. My wife also kept her seat. The
members of the'class eyed me very closely, and I could
easily tell by their furtive glances thlat my room would be
better than my company. The leader, as is customary
on such occasions, opened the speaking exercises by relating a portion of his own experience, in which he spoke
feelingly of the goodness of God to his soul. After this
he spoke to the rest in order, inquiring into their spiritual
prosperity; addressing to them such language of instruction, encouragement. or reproof, as their spiritual states
seemed to require. It was a time of profound and powerful feeling; every soul seemed to be engaged in the work
of salvation. I was astonished beyond all expression.
Instead of the ranting, incoherent declarations which I
had been told they made on such occasions, I never
heard more plain, simple, Scriptural, common-sense, yet
eloquent views of Christian experience in my life. Aftei
all the members had been spoken to the leader came to
me, and, in a courteous, Christian manner, inquired into
my religious condition. To his kind inquiries I could
only reply in tears and sighs; for I felt as if my very




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                179
heart would burst with an overwhelming sense of my
wretched state. Much sympathy was awakened on my
behalf, and many prayers offered to God for my salvation.
After the meeting was over we returned home, and, as
soon as I could put up the horses, I went out to the
woods to pray. Thus I continued retiring, as usual, to
the woods, and spending my time in reading the Scriptures and Russel's Sermons, and prayer, till Thursday,
which I set apart as a day for solemn fasting, humiliation,
and prayer. The most of the day was spent in the hollow
log, reading the Bible, and praying.  In the evening I
came home, and, after attending to some duties, went out
again to the woods, after dark, determined, if I perished,
to perish at the feet of mercy.  I selected, as a place for
my supplications, a large poplar-tree, and, getting on the
opposite side from the wind, I scraped away the snow,
that I might kneel there. Here I prayed and wrestled till
about midnight, when I felt comforted. My load of sin
was gone, and the sensations of cold which I had experienced were also gone. The weather seemed pleasant, and
balmy as spring. I arose, and went home, filled with
gratitude to God, for his forgiving mercy and redeeming
love. I had not received the direct witness of the Spirit
that I was a child of God, but yet I knew my sins were
pardoned. I found my wife waiting for me, and we retired to rest. Just at the break of day I awoke, and I
shall never be able to tell the gratitude I felt to God, that
I was permitted to awake out of hell; and I thought I
would express my feelings to my wife, when, to my astonishment, I found her convulsed in sorrow. and bathed in
tears.
I immediately arose for the purpose of going to my
barn, to pray. Just as I passed the corner of the house
on my way, suddenly God poured upon me the Holy.pirit in such a manner, and in such a measure, that I




I8O           AUTOBIOGRAPRY  OF
fell, my whole length, in the snow, and shouted, and
praised God so loud, that I was heard over the neighborhood. As soon as I was able to rise, I returned to the
house, and my wife having risen, I caught her in my
arms, and ran round the house, shouting, "'Salvationl
salvation! God has again blessed me with his pardoning
love." No doubt many would have said, had they seen
me, "This man is drunk or crazy."  But I was not
"drunk with wine, wherein is excess;" but I was "filled
with the Spirit." For an hour I could do nothing but
praise the Lord. While thus exercised, I felt as though
some one had spoken to me, "Go preach my Gospel."
I instantly replied, "Yes, Lord, if thou wilt go with me."
I did not stop to confer with flesh and blood, but hurried
out, as fast as I could, to my nearest neighbor, and called
all the family together, and told them all that God had
done for my soul; and to all within my reach that day I
proclaimed a risen Savior, who had power on earth to forgive sins. This produced a powerful excitement in the
neighborhood. The next morning my brother William
and his wife, on their way to a Christmas frolic, called,
and I persuaded them to alight and warm themselves.
They assented, and came in. So soon as they were
seated, I closed the door, and commenced preaching to
them repentance and remission of sins, and related what
God had done for my soul. At this they wept; and,
placing before them chairs, I told them to kneel down,
and I would pray for them. They kneeled, and I poured
out my soul to God in their behalf. This was the first
mourner's bench I had ever seen or heard of. I persuaded them to abandon their design of going to the
Christmas frolic, and go home, and seek the salvation of
their souls. This they did, and, in a few days, found
peace in believing. I then invited the Methodists to come
to my house and hold prayer meetings; which they did.




REIV. JAMES B. FINLEY.             181
Then I went to the place where the circuit preacher had
an appointment. After preaching he held class meeting;
at the close of which he gave an invitation to any who
wished to join the society, on trial, to come forward and
give him their hand. I concluded if my wife would join
with me, I would give the Methodists a trial, and if I
liked them, I would make that Church my home. Accordingly I went to my wife, and asked her if she would
join; and on her assenting, I took her by the hand, and
we went up together. Several others followed us, and the
meeting closed.
I commenced, from this on, to hold prayer meetings in
my own house; and had not kept them up one month, till
nineteen of my relatives and neighbors experienced religion. In a short time a circuit preacher came into our
neighborhood, and formed us into a class or society, and
appointed me the leader. This was an entirely new thing
to us all. We knew but little of the Methodists and their
usages; and all we could learn from them, coming as it
did through a prejudiced medium, only had a tendency
to produce the same results in our own minds; but we
were strangely and providentially brought in the way of
that people, and now were connected with them in Church
fellowship. Of those who composed the class, none but
myself and wife had ever been in one; and, hence, class
meeting to them was an entirely novel thing. I appointed
a class meeting, the next Sabbath, at my own house.
When the day arrived, the whole surrounding country
appeared to be on the move. The people came from
every direction, and filled the house and the yard, and
the lane leading thereto. My father and mother both
were there.
The time for meeting arrived. With palpitating heart
and trembling limbs, I arose, gave out a hymn, which we
all united in singing; then I Doured out my soul to God




182           AAUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
In prayer, asking for grace and wisdom, to enable rme to
discharge the onerous duty which rested like a mountain
upon me. After prayer I sang again, and then approactling my venerable father, who had been years in the ministry of the Presbyterian Church, I inquired how his
soul prospered. He arose, and related his experience,
the various trials through which he had passed, and the
wonderful providences of God in his behalf. I then proceeded to my mother, who had previously been muchb
afflicted at my having joined the Methodists; but she
was a good woman, and when she found that her views
of that people had been formed upon incorrect and prejudiced reports, she confessed her error, and gladly acknowledged them the people of God. From my parents
I passed round to each one in the house, talking and
singing, exhorting, and occasionally shouting the praises
of God. After having led all in the house, I went out to
the yard, and while passing round there among my neighbors, telling them what God had done for my soul, and
how happy I was in religion, my father continued the
meeting in the house by singing and prayer. From the
yard I passed into the lane, speaking to all in course.
Many would turn round, and lean on the fence, and weep.
Such a time I never saw before, nor have I seen since.
And many were convicted, and, from that hour, began to
seek religion.
A few weeks after this general class meeting was held,
I was required, by one of the preachers, to take a text,
and try to preach. This, in my estimation, was getting
along a little too fast; but, as an obedient son in the Gospel, I yielded to his entreaties, and endeavored to exhort
the people. I had determined to face duty at all hazards;
and, waiving my objections to the superior judgment of
one who had been in the work, I resolved that I would
try. While I exhorted sinners to flee the wrath to come,




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               183
many wept, and shortly after were happily converted to
God. I suffered extremely in mind from this effort, and
the enemy came in upon me like a flood. I ran to the
woods, wept bitterly, and promised the Lord, if he would
forgive me, I would never do so any more.
Soon after this I was sent for, to go and hold a meeting
at brother Fowler's, on Straight creek, fourteen miles distant. I dare not refuse, for my bitter experience before
had taught me that if I refused to serve God in the Gospel of his Son, the same awful darkness would surround
me. Accordingly I put on my hunting-shirt and moccasins, and, leaving my hunting apparatus at home, I
started before day, through the woods. I arrived at the
place of meeting, and was greeted by a vast concourse of
people, who had congregated from all parts of the country to hear the backwoods preacher, or rather to hear the
wild hunter preach. My soul sank within me at the sight,
and I ran into the woods, and fell on my knees, invoking
God, with all my heart, to grant me wisdom and strength
for the great work before me. My prayer was, " 0 Lord,
thou hast sent me, and now I pray thee to help me; for I
am nothing, and helpless as a child! Glorify thyself in
my great weakness." I then returned, and took the
stand in the cabin, and announced my text as follows:
"Repent ye therefore, and be converted, that your sins
may be blotted out, when the times of refreshing shall
come from the presence of the Lord." Acts iii, 19. Although I knew little concerning the theory of repentance,
yet I had a deep and powerful experience. When I came
to speak of conversion, and the blotting out of sin, with
refreshing from the presence of the Lord, my soul fired
with the theme, and the Holy Spirit shed abroad its hal.
lowed influences, and the divine power pervaded every
heart, so that all the house were more or iess affected;
some shout;ng salvation, and others crying aloud- for




184           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
mercy. The meeting lasted till evening, and I announced
that, after a short intermission, we would have a prayer
meeting. When the time arrived, the people came
together again, and, during the exercises of singing,
prayer, and exhortation, many were converted, and one
brother professed sanctification. At this point the excitement increased, and several were taken with the jerks.
The next day I went home through the woods, and was
so happy that I sung and shouted alternately during
almost the entire journey.
About this time I was visited by my old German friend,
at whose house I was converted in Kentucky, and had a
most delightful interview. He was deeply experienced in
the things of God, and gave me much important instruction. He told me I was now a babe, and would fiequently be alarmed, and, in trying to walk, would be
easily thrown down; but, like the child learning to walk,
I must not be discouraged, but get up and try again; that
I must never suppose that my temptations and trials
would be too great for me to encounter; but that, by endurance, I would grow stronger, and also more watchful.' The devil," said he, "is like the shepherd's dog in Germany. He will sometimes worry the sheep, but it teaches
them to keep up with the flock."  Revivals of religion
he said were like a strong wind, which blows the trees all
one way, but, as soon as the storm is over, the most of
them will fly back. He said I had to be drilled, and go
into the army, and, as a faithful soldier, fight against the
world, the flesh, and: the devil. "Now," said he, "you
think all that profess religion are good people; but there
are many hogs among the sheep, and you may be able to
distinguish between them; for when a hog comes to a mudhole, he will put his nose into it, and grunt, and lie down
in it; but the sheep will go around it, as they do not like
the mud. In your Christian life you will have many




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               135
cloudy days. Then the devil will come to you, and ask
you to settle accounts with' him. He will accuse you of
many things, and try to make you believe you are nothing
but a painted hypocrite, and never had any religion. You
must not settle with the devil at such times, for, if you
do, he will assuredly-cheat you; but tell him to go away
till the clouds are gone, and your soul is happy, and then
call on him."  These with many other good things he
said to me, and they were of essential service in after life.
Our congregations became so large that none of the
cabins in the neighborhood could accommodate them.
To obviate this difficulty, we collected together and put
up a meeting-house; and the Lord continued to revive his
work. During the month of March the quarterly meeting was held on our part of the old Scioto circuit at Hillsboro. To this meeting I resolved to go; and when the
time arrived, quite a number of us started. Arriving at
the Rocky fork of Paint creek, we found the stream over
its banks, and, as it was impossible to ford, and no craft
of any description being at hand, my company turned
back. I was not, however, so easily discouraged. I had
set my heart upon the meeting, and I was determined on
getting there, at all hazards. Riding into the water,
which had overflowed the bottoms, I came to a tree
which had been washed out, and lodged across the main
channel, connecting with another tree on this side of the
creek. Riding to the hill out of the water, I took off the
saddle and -bridle, and turned my horse loose, then climbing up a sapling and bending it down, I tied them to the
top, and let them swing up. Then I waded out to the
tree, climbed up it, got into the top of the other, went
down,: passed over, and waded out to dry land. I was
extremely wet and cold, but I fell on my knees, thanked
GCrod, and went on my way.
Just as I entered the meeting-house the presiding
16




186           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
elder —Rev. John Sale-was reading his text from the
eighty-fourth Psalm: "The Lord God is a sun and shield:
the Lord will give grace and glory; no good thing will he;
withhold from them that walk uprightly." I was greatly
refreshed and benefited by this discourse. When he cot.eluded, to my great astonishment, one of the preachers
present called to me to come and exhort, and close the,
meeting. I was overwhelmed for a moment, and scarcely
knew what to do: but I dare not refuse; so I went, and
told my old companions in sin what great things the Lord
had done for my soul, and what he was willing to do for
each and every one of them. While I was speaking, the
Lord blessed me abundantly, and many hard-hearted sinners wept. On Sabbath morning the love-feast was to be
held. This was entirely new to me, as I never had been
in one before. It was a most deeply-interesting occasion.
As one after another spoke of the goodness of God, my
soul swelled with gratitude and joy, and, being unable to
contain myself any longer, I sprang from my seat, and
shouted the praises of God with an overflowing heart.
The excitement at this point rose to its greatest hight,
and it was impossible to distinguish between the shouts
of joy and the cries for mercy. I thought and felt as if
heaven had come down to earth. In the afternoon the
sacrament of the Lord's supper was administered; and as
I never had partaken of this holy communion before, it
was a time of great self-examination, and deliberate, solemn consecration to God on my part. I was much blessed
in partaking of the emblems of the broken body and shed
blood of my Redeemer.
A little circumstance occurred while I was at this meeting, which tended wonderfully to confirm my faith in regard to trust in God for temporal blessings. When I left
home I had but fifty cents in my pocket, which I was
taking to Hillsboro, for the purpose of payirg a debt.




REV. JAMES B  FINLEY.               187
When the collection was taken up on Sabbath, a struggle
ensued in my mind as to whether I should throw it into
the treasury of the Lord or reserve it for the purpose of
paying a just debt. I did not suppose that the payment
of one debt would cancel another. On the subject of my
indebtedness to the Gospel there was no doubt; but as I
could not meet both demands at the same time, it was
suggested that I pay the man to whom I owed the sum I
possessed first. At the same time it was suggested that I
contribute it to the support of the Gospel and trust the
Lord. The latter suggestion prevailed, and I threw it
into the Lord's treasury. The next morning a man came
to me who owed me a dollar and a half, a debt which I
had long regarded as lost, and never expected to receive
one cent. I then said instantly, "Here is my fifty cents
and a dollar in the bargain."  So I paid my debt and realized that they who trust in God shall never be confounded.
From this meeting I returned home, found my bridle
and saddle where I had left them, and my horse in the
stable. About this time my old associates, who had tried
every scheme to get me back to the beggarly elements of
the world, as a last resort thought they would try persecution. They sought to lay every temptation in my way,
and on all occasions abused and slandered me for the purpose of rousing me to anger. The grace of God, however, was sufficient, and failing to accomplish their purposes they became divided among themselves. On one
occasion a wicked man came to the place where I was
working on the road, in company with the neighbors of
the district, and pushing me violently, cursed me for
a Methodist dog. I stepped away and said nothing. At
this another man stepped up to the one who had abused
me and cursed him for a coward, remarking, "Six months
ago you would no more have dared to do what you have




188           AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
done to Finley, than you would to put your head in the
fire; for he would have knocked all your teeth down your
throat in an instant; and if you insult him again I will
whip you like a dog." This same man went, on election
day, to another fellow who was in the habit of abusing
me by the most opprobrious epithets, and said to him, "R.,
the Methodists had a council last night, and have come to
the conclusion, that inasmuch, as you are constantly abusing Finley, that if you do so again they have given him
the liberty to give you a sound flogging, and they will not
Church him for it. Now, I advise you as a friend, if you
wish to keep a whole hide, to keep out of his way."  At
night he told me he had seen R., and related what he had
said to him. I told him he did wrong, for the Methodists
had done no such a thing. He said he knew that, but
he was determined to cool the fellow off. I give these
incidents as a specimen of some of the trials I had to encounter in the onset of my career as a Christian.
I was greatly exercised, at times, about my call to
preach, and passed through some of the most severe conflicts, lasting for whole weeks together. I still held prayer
meetings and exhorted, and occasionally tried to preach.
My father had joined the Methodist Church, and frequently lectured and preached. On one occasion, at oui
meeting, he tried to reconcile the Calvinistic notion of im-;
puted righteousness with Wesley's teaching, and put a
construction on Wesley's words which, whether legitimate
Dr not, was not Methodistic, according to my notion of
things. As soon as he was through, I rose in the congregation and said, "Father, you can no more reconcile Calvin and Wesley than you can darkness and light, or error
and truth, and there is no use of your trying to do so.
Permit me to say, if you are a Methodist be one, and if
you are a Calvinist be one, for I- want truth to prevail
every-where, and every man to be really what he is."




RF'V.'JAES 1.   INLEY.              189
I felt somewhat unpleasant concerning this attack on
my father, but I had great zeal for the truth which had
made me free. This Scripture was also applied to my
mind: "He that loveth father or mother more than
me, is not worthy of me." After many hard struggles
of mind in regard to giving myself up exclusively to
the work of a minister of the Gospel, I settled into an
acquiescence to the Divine will.  I thought I could
labor as a local preacher around the country, and enjoy
all the benefits and blessings of domestic life; and yet I
felt if it was woe with me if I did not preach the Gospel,
tnat the same necessity which drove me into the field
would compel me to constant labor.




190           AUTOBIOGRAPHY Of
CHAPTER X.
ITINERANT LIFE.
ON the solicitation of many friends, and the urgent
request of Rev. John Sale, the presiding elder, I consented, for a short time, to travel the Scioto circuit. I
left home on the first day of May, 1809, hoping that in
the fall there would be no need of my poor services, and
I could return to the quiet pursuits of domestic life. My
first appointment was at the house of brother William
Lucas. When the hour for meeting arrived, I went to
the woods and prayed most devoutly that no one might
come to the meeting; but my prayer was not answered,
for the people came from all directions, and it appeared to
me that the cross was so heavy it would crush me to the
earth. Nevertheless, I was obliged to take it up and bear
it; and although my sermon was without form and void,
yet God blessed the blundering effort and gave me favor
in the sight of the people. I went on to the next appointment, and attended to the duties of a traveling preacher,
but had no comfort. My mind, for three weeks, was constantly harassed by the enemy, and alternated between
hope and despair. Thus I continued till I arrived at West
Union, and here a fresh trial awaited me. The meeting
was held in brother Shultz's house, and when I rose up
to commence the exercises, who should confront me but
Mr. John Campbell, a lawyer, subsequently a judge but
now deceased, who had come expressly for the purpose of
taking down my sermon in short hand! He was one of
myr. former most intimate friends. My thoughts became




RPiV. JA MSz B. FINILEY.           191.
confused; all my arrangements passed away from  my
memory. Had I not been impelled by a sense of duty
too strong to be overcome by any temporal consideration,
I never would have undertaken to preach at that time.
But I bad passed the Rubicon-had given myself wholly
to the Lord, and was not going to take back what I had
done. Lifting my heart to God for grace and strength, I
commenced. I knew that, although in some of the sciences he was greatly my superior, in the science of salvation I had the advantage, and could instruct him in things
concerning which he knew nothing. I accordingly took a
passage of Scripture which led me to speak of the new
birth, and this opened up the way for me to give a relation
of my experience, and to show the goodness and power
of God as manifested in my conversion.  The sermon
seemed to make a good impression on all in the house,
and many were excited to tears.
I continued to travel and preach without any license
whatever till August, when a camp meeting was held on
Benjamin Turner's place, in the valley of Paint creek,
where I received license as a local preacher in due form
from the quarterly meeting conference, and my papers
were made out and signed by the Rev. John Sale. The
same conference recommended me as a suitable person to
be received on trial into the traveling connection. While
the preachers were gone to the annual conference, I continued on the circuit, filling the appointments in regulai
order. Every day I prayed most fervently that if it was
not the will of God that I should devote myself exclusively to the work of the ministry, that he would shut the
door against me at conference, and I very much desired
Lhat sucli a result would happen. Having finished my
round I turned my face homeward, but I had no sooner
reached my residence than my wife informed me that
brother Collins had passed on his way from conference




192           ATITOBIOGRA PI'    OF
and had left a few lines for me. My heart beat violently
as I opened and read the contents of the letter. It stated
that I was appointed to Wills Creel circuit, to travel
alone.  Can it be possible, thought I, that the bishop has
sent, me to that charge alone, with all my ignorance and
inexperience?  The nearest appointment on the circuit.
was one hundred and thirty miles from home, and to move
my family that distance would be a considerable undertaking; beside my utter want of qualification to superintend a circuit, made me feel extremely unpleasant. A
great conflict arose in my mind, whether I should go oi
not.  I supposed the bishop was not sufficiently acquainted with the facts in the case, and that the partiality:
of mv friends induced him to make an appointment which
never would have resulted firom personal knowledge of my
incapacity. I took the whole subject before the Lord in
prayer. After family worship I went into the loom-house
and commenced praying to God to give me some sure
indication in regard to his will in this matter. I wrestled
all night in supplication, but found no relief. Morning
came, and I went into my house and sat down by the
table, on which was the family Bible, almost distracted,
I asked the Lord, if there was a promise in that book
which would give me direction and settle the doubtful
state of my mind, to direct me to. it. On opening the
Bible, the first passage on which my eyes fell was Deuteronomy xxxiii, 25: " Thy shoes shall be iron and brass; and
as thy days, so shall thy strength be." This promise was
applied to my heart by the Holy Spirit with tremendous
power, and I shouted and praised God with all my soul.
My doubts and fears all left me, and I told my beloved
wife that I now had faith to believe that God would take
care of me and guide me aright.
1 s soon as I could get all things in readiness I prepared to start for my circuit. I shall never forget the




REV. o MES B. FINLEY,                 198
parting scene. It seemed to me that I was about to leave
the world and part from all my relatives, and wife, and
lit.le daughter forever.  After prayer I rose, embraced
them all, mounted my horse, and started. After riding
some distance, I came to a point where the road diverged,
and desiring to take a last look at the loved ones behind,
I turned and saw them weeping. It was a severe struggle with nature, but grace proved triumphant, and I journeyed on.
Several days' travel brought me to Zanesville, the principal appointment on my circuit.  When I arrived in town
it was raining hard.  In lieu of an overcoat, to protect me
from the storm, I had procured a blanket, and cutting a
hole in the middle of it, I thrust my head through it and
found it a good protection. Riding up to the door of one
of the principal Methodists of the place, I asked for lodgings, informing the brother that the conference had sent
me there as the preacher.  Eyeing me closely from head
to foot, he replied, "You look like any thing else than a
]reacher."  I told him he should not judge too rashly, as
he might, perhaps, think better of me on a closer examination, and I suggested the propriety, at least, of his giving me a fair trial. To this he assented, and I tarried
with him. The next day being Sabbath, I preached, in
the morning, in the log court-house, and, after leading the
class, rode six miles to brother Joseph's, where I preached
again in the afternoon and met class.
Wills Creek circuit was formed by the Rev. James
Watts, and was computed to be four hundred and seventyfive miles round.  Its route was as follows: Beginning at
Zanesville and running east, it embraced all the settlements on each side of the Wheeling road, on to Salt creek
and the Buffalo fork of Wills creek; thence down to
Cambridge and Leatherwood, on Stillwater; thence to
Barnesville and  Morristown; thence  down  Stillwater,
13




t94           AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
it cluding all the branches on which there were settlements,
c the mouth; thence up the Tuscarawas, through New
Philadelphia, to One-leg Nimishilling; thence up Sandy
to Canton, and on to Carter's; thence to Sugar creek, and
down said creek to the mouth; thence down the Tuscarawas to William Butts's, and thence down to the mouth
of Whitewoman; thence, after crossing the river, including all the settlements of the Wapatomica, down to Zanesville, the place of beginning.
I entered upon this work with great fear and trembling.
No where, in all the round, could I find a place for my
family to live, and hence I was driven to the necessity of
building a cabin, which I located on the Leatherwood fork
of'Wills creek, fourteen miles west of Barnesville. After getting it ready for occupancy, I wrote to my father,
requesting him to bring my family, and after a separation
of four months we had the pleasure of meeting again.
We took possession of our humble cabin, twelve by fourteen feet, which proved sufficiently capacious, as we had
nothing but a bed and some wearing apparel., My funds
being all exhausted, I sild the boots off my feet to purchase provisions with; and after making all the preparation that I could to render my family comfortable, started
out again upon my circuit, to be absent four weeks.
Instead of taking a circuitous route to reach my appointments, I proceeded across the country through the
woods, and after traversing hills and vales, without a path
to guide me, I was thrown considerably out of my course.
About sunset I struck a trace leading from Cambridge to
Cadiz, and night overtaking me as I was following this
path, I came to the cabin of an old Irish gentleman, a
Roman Catholic.  On entering this habitation in the
woods, I found the family at their evening repast. They
occupied one side of the fireplace, and a calf, which was
Dusy eating a mess of pumpkins, occupied the other.  I




REV. JAMES IB. FINLEY.              195
wae invited to join in the evening meal, which I did with
good relish, as I had eaten nothing during the day. After
supper was ended I asked the old gentleman in regard to
his nativity, his religious profession, etc. On his informing me that he was a Roman Catholic, I inquired how he
got along without his confession. At this he became visibly agitated, and informed me he had not seen s priest
for years; but that he was laying up money to go to
Pittsburg to obtain absolution. I then asked him if he
had ever experienced the new birth, or if he had been
born again. To this question he seemed unable to give
an answer, and manifested still more uneasiness. Hw
asked me what I meant; for, said he, "I am now seventy
years old, and never heard of such a thing in all my life."
Becoming alarmed he called his son John. I told him he
need not be excited, as I would do him no harm. He
then asked me if I was a minister. I told him I tried to
speak to the people and teach them the way of salvation
by faith in the Lord Jesus Christ.  The whole family
seemed to be alarmed at the conversation; but I spoke
kindly to them; and after their fears were somewhat quieted I took out my Bible, and reading a part of the third
chapter of John, I spent an hour in explaining to them
the nature and necessity of the new birth.  The family
listened to all I had to say with the most profound attention, and silence was only interrupted by their sighs and
Wars. After prayer we all retired to rest for the night.
In the-morning, previous to leaving, the old gentleman
invited me to preach for the neighborhood when I came
round the next time, which I promised to do, enjoining on
him and his family the necessity of prayer to God.
Nothing worthy of particular note occurred till I returned to this house. I found, at the time appointed, a
large collection of people, and preached to them salvation
in the name of Jesus. The Lord attended his word with




196           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
power to the hearts of the people; many were awakened,
and a good work began. Soon after the old gentleman
experienced religion, and also his son John; and they,
with other members of the family, joined the Church.
The father lived a consistent life and died a happy death,
and the son became a talented and useful exhorter.
Many were the difficulties I had to encounter in traveling this circuit. The country was new, and the people
were generally ignorant and wicked. Sometimes while
trying to preach, they would interrupt me by cursings and
mockings, and frequently they would threaten me with
chastisement, but none of these things moved me. My
want of experience and conscious inability to preach the
Gospel as a workman that need not be ashamed, led me
to seek, with great earnestness, the sanctifying influences
of the Spirit of God, and to devote every spare hour to
the study of the Bible. My place of study was the forest,
and my principal text-books the Bible, Discipline, doctrinal tracts, and the works of Wesley and Fletcher.
Often, while in the woods reading my Bible on my knees,
and praying to God for the wisdom that cometh down
fiom above, was my heart comforted. My feeble efforts
were abundantly blessed, and many seals were given to
my ministry. The Lord revived his work at several appointments and opened my way, giving me access to the
hearts of the people. At one time I made an appointment
on Sugar creek, but when I caine to it there was no house
for me to preach in. Accordingly I called the people
together under a large oak in a small prairie. The people,
however, would not come near me, but stood in the plum
bushes around, and I preached to them, in their hidingplaces, Jesus Christ and the resurrection. At my second
appointment they seemed less fearful, and I gained so
mucli on their confidence that I ventured to make an -appointment for my next round at Mr. Cory's house.




RtE. JAMES 1t. FINLEY.               197
When I arrived the people had collected, and after
preaching to them, I proposed holding class meeting.  I
began with an old German, named Baker, and afterward
spoke to his son Jacob.  While talking to Jacob, the old
man exclaimed, "Jake, if you and I don't do petter, de
tivel vill come and dakes us poth." He then wept bitterly. At this the divine power came down upon the
hearts of the people, and many were awakened and convErted to God. I formed a class, and appointed brother
Corey the leader.
At another time, while preaching at brother Butt's, a
German woman became awakened to a sense of her lost
condition as a sinner, and it seemed, so great was her distress of mind, that she would go into despair.  Her husband said I had bewitched her, and he was determined to
shoot me, not for a witch, but a wizard.  For this purpose he loaded his rifle with a charmed bullet, and went
two miles for the purpose of waylaying me. Having
reached the point in the road which I had to pass, he
secreted himself in the bushes, and awaited my arrival.
He was not long, however, in this position, till his mind
was filled with dreadful thoughts; horrid visions floated
before his excited imagination; demon shapes gathered
around him, and he fled precipitately for home, in as
much distress as his poor wife. They sent for brother
VFulgamode and his wife to come and pray for them,
which they did, and soon both experienced religion; and
I had the pleasure of receiving them into the Church.
A painful incident occurred about this time. A brothel
S., who had been appointed leader of the class at White
Eyes Plains, with some of the members of his class, was
induced to go to a horse-race, where they became intoxicated. Soon after this he was taken sick, and, while suffering under disease, he made many promises, if the Lord
would spare his life, to do better..The Lord heard his




198           AVtOtIOGVAPt~ OF
vows; the disease was rebuked, and his health began to
return. Before, however, he was fully restored, he went
to a corn-husking, and was again overcome by strong
drink. He was carried, in a state of intoxication, into
the house, and laid on'a bed; and no further attention
was paid to him till after supper, when the party began to
clear the room for a dance. The room being small, it
was necessary to remove the bed; but when they came to
wake S. from his drunken slumbers, they found him dead.
His soul had been summoned away. What an awful
warning to backsliders and drunkards! Reader, have
you departed from God by sin and transgression? Return, 0 return speedily, lest you be filled with your own
ways. Remember God will not always be mocked. Have
you been in the habit of drinking? Quit it instantly; go
not where it is; "taste not, touch not, handle not," or
you are gone forever. 0, "look not upon the wine when
it is red, when it giveth its color in the cup, when it
moveth itself aright; for at last it biteth like a serpent,
and stingeth like an adder."  Death and damnation are
in the maddening draught; therefore, fly from the insidious destroyer.
Another alarming judgment occurred in the case of
M. P. about this time. He had embraced infidelity, and
was a boasting disciple of Tom Paine. On a public occasion he was heard to say that he was a deliberate enemy
of Jesus Christ, and would only live to oppose him and
his religion; confirming the declaration by several awful
oaths and imprecations. The following week he became
suddenly deranged, and became such a furious madman
that it was necessary to put him in close confinement.
His haggard features and demon-like scowl were truly
terrific, and his language was horrible and blasphemous
beyond expression. He raved as though torn by a thouuand furies, gnashed his teeth, and gnawed his blasphe



REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.              199
mous tongu., till exhausted nature yielded, and he gav6
up the ghost. I was invited to preach his funeral; and,
in the fear of God, I endeavored to make what improvement I could of so awful a scene. It is not strange that
those who abuse their reason in denying the existence of
a God, should lose its proper exercise, any more than that
those who abuse any physical organ should lose its use.
Once after preaching at White Eyes Plains, a messenger came to me and said there was a poor woman,
who lived about five miles distant, who was anxious to
see me. Accordingly I went, and, on arriving, found her
in an open cabin, surrounded by four helpless children,
all in the deepest poverty. Her husband had died, and
was buried in the woods, a short distance from the rude,
unfinished cabin which he had tried to rear for his family.
My sympathies, already excited by the appearance of the
family, were hightened in their intensity by the widow's
sad tale of woe. All the money I had in the world was
thirty-seven and a half cents. What to do I knew not.
It occurred to me, that my thick, new, cloth leggins,
which I wore over my buckskin'pants, would make the
eldest son a good, warm coat; and I was about untying
them, when it was suggested that I could not possibly do
without them; besides it was raining and cold, and I
would be much exposed; I, however, overcame the temptation, pulled off the leggins, and gave them to the mother,
telling her to make a coat out of them for her son; and
then, giving her the small sum of money, and praying
with the family, I departed. I had not gone a hundred
yards from that desolate habitation till the Lord poured
down upon me a blessing, and I shouted and traveled on
in the rain. As night approached I reached the mouth
of Whitewoman, which I crossed, and stopped at a tavern. I told the tavern-keeper I would like to stop with
him, but had nothing to pay. He took my horse, and,




200            Ax:rTOBIOGTAPHY or
after putting him in the stable, he came in and asked me
who I was. I gave him my name and vocation. While
I was drying my pants by the fire, supper was announced.
which I ate with great relish. After prayers, and conversation on a variety of topics, I went to bed. While sitting, in the morning, by the fire, trying to rub some pliability into my now dry and hard leather breeches, the
landlord came in and presented me with a fine pair of
new leggins, and a dollar in the bargain.  This kind act
so filled me'with gratitude to God that I made the barroom ring with shouts of praise. I realized the truth of
that proverb, "He that hath pity on the poor, lendeth to
the Lord; and he shall he repaid again."
Some time in June the Rev. James Quinn-the presiding elder of the district-sent brother John Strange, of
blessed memory, to travel with inme. He was then quite
a youth, and had just entered the field as an itinerant
preacher. His person was tall and slender, but grazefili,
and his manners prepossessing and engaging.. Although
he could not wear the armor of Saul, he soon learned to
use the sling of David with admirable dexterity. He was
unassuming and modest in all his deportment to his supe.
riors; kind and conciliatory in all his bearing to his equals,
and affectionate and amiable to all. He possessed a voice
of unusual sweetness, compass, and power.  His singirg
would entrance the hearts of listening thousands; and I
have witnessed its effect as the silvery tones would rise, and
swell, and fall upon the ear, like strains from heaven. He
was not a literary man, in the ordinary acceptation of (hat
term; but, like the backwoods preachers of those days,
was self-taught; and, by deep communion with himself,
and nature, and God, had acquired a knowledge of hu
man nature and the springs of human action, that ena
bled him to wield a vast power over the minds of the
thousands who crowded together to hang upon the %,o



REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                ~O1
ltence of his lips. He was one of nature's orators.
When inspired with hi;, theme, his eye kindled with unearthly fire, and his whole face gleamed with a heavenly
radiance. When he described heaven, which he always
did in the beautiful and impressive imagery of the Bible,
the mind seemed transported to that bright world, and to
wander, with rapture,.
"Among the bowers, and by the streams
Of heaven's delightful shore."
When he would describe the dying Christian, so vividly
would he bring before the mind the triumphs of the partmg scene, that, like Bunyan when he saw Christian and
Faithful enter the celestial gate, you would be constrained
to wish yourself with them in that hour. When, by him,
the violated law spoke out its thunders, he would rise to
an awful sublimity; his brow would gather-blackness;
his eye dart fire; and, with the quick and significant gesture of his hand, he would indicate the doom  of the
inally impenitent, and startle the most hardened fiom
their seats. He seemed to have lost all love of the world,
and literally to have forsaken all for Christ. His whole
sovt was in his work; and having but one object, he was
concentrating all his powers in its pursuit. I at once took
him to my heart, and found him a faithful and affectionate co-laborer in the vineyard of the Lord.  Our hearts
were always in unison; and we never exchanged an unpleasant word or look for upward of twenty years' labor
and acquaintance. He entered the ministry and pursued
the work of an itinerant, as all young men who enter the
field should do. Who ever heard John Strange say, "My
work is too hard," or, " My circuit is too poor?" Although
le had a slender frame and feeble constitution, subject to
many afflictions, he seldom  ever lost an'appointment.
Sick or well, he continued in the work, trusting in God,
and laboring for the salvation of souls. He hal taken his




2C2            AtTToBIOGRAP'H Y  OP
charge, and had resolved only to lay' it down with his
body, ceasing to work only when he ceased to live. lIe
was my first colleague, my true yoke-fellow, my bosomn
friend. But he has done the errand of his Master, and
entered into the joy of his Lord.' He fought a good fight,
finished his course, kept the faith, and obtained the crown
of eternal life. After traveling thirteen years in the Ohio
conference, he was transferred to Indiana, where he
labored eight or nine years, and died in Indianapolis in
1832. Twenty-two years of his life were spent in the
vineyard of the Lord; and many in eternity's morning
will hail him as their herald to the land of bliss. A short
time before his death he sent me the following message:
"Tell my old friend, brother Finley, that all is well. I
shall soon be at home. Glory to God for the prospect I
have of m'eeting him there!"  Yes, sainted one, I shall
soon meet you in that upper, better sanctuary. I feel
that the frosts of fifty winters, in the hard-fought field of
itinerant life, will soon cause me to fade like the leaf of
an Indian summer; and I shall sleep with my fathers and
brothers on the bosom of my Savior and my God.
The first camp meeting ever held in this region of country was on the land of Mr. James Clark, on Tuscarawas
river.  This meeting produced a great excitement among
all classes of people; and they came from all parts of the
country to attend it. The Moravians, who resided a short
distance bloove, were prohibited, by their good old priest,
from attending; but, notwithstanding all the admonitions
to prevent their attendance, when the time arrived for
holding the meeting, many were there. Quite a number
of these people experienced religion; and so powerful
was the manifestation of the Spirit of God, that multitudes were converted, and hundreds went away deeply
a-)d powerfully convicted on account of their sins. As
urta, on all such occasions, the spirit of persecu'tion wea




1IV. 1   lVV.~ES.. B1.  1iL tN   [.
developed. Inroads made on the territory of darkness
will always excite a sturdy conflict with the powers
thereof; and the resistance to truth and righteousness
more visibly manifests itself during a revival than at any
other time. The power and genuineness of a work of
God may be usually measured by the opposition it meets
with from the world, the flesh, and the devil. The work
of the Lord, however, went on, and the cause of Christ
triumphed gloriously.
An incident occurred on this circuit in reference to our
rules, which I will relate.  At Lemuel Joseph's the classleader had permitted a Lutheran, by the name of Mr. John
Bowers, to meet in class from time to time, and have all
the privileges of the Church, though he was not a member, and refused to join, assigning as a reason, that if he
should leave the Lutheran Church and join any other, he
would be guilty of perjury. His wife, also a Lutheran,
was in the habit of attending and enjoying the same privileges. When I came to lead the class, I told them they
could not remain unless they would join the Church,
and they must leave. They went away much afflicted,
and the whole class felt offended at me for the procedure.
I told them they must not blame me. If they had any
fault to find, they must attack the rules of the Church,
which forbade their remaining; and besides, they must
think me faithless to my trust, as the administrator of
Discipline, if I would permit the rules to be violated under my own eye, when I had the power to prevent it.
When I came round again Mr. Bowers and wife and
mother were there again. After preaching I told them.
as before, that unless they intended to join the Church.
Lhey must retire while we held class. At this the old
lady left, but the old gentleman remained. While the
meeting progressed, the Lord manifested himself to the
people in great power, and we had a glorious time, so




Z/O4          A't~o Bo'iOGRAPJVV  oii
that the old lady, who was an attentive listener on the
outside, thrust open the door, exclaiming with a loud
voice, "My God, I can stay out no longer!"  That day
they all joined the class, and we had a season of great
rejoicing. The members who were dissatisfied at the
stand I had previously taken in carrying out the rules,
now came to me and said, "You did just right."
Some years after I stopped to see the old people. As I
approached the house, old brother Bowers was standing
inside the bars; I said to him, "Brother Bowers, please let
down the bars, that I may ride into the yard." "No,"
said he, "brother', you must let down the bars yourself.
You made me lay down the bars once to get into the
Church, now you must take down the bars and come into
my house, and you shall be welcome." This man and his
family were very consistent members of the Church and
ornaments of their profession.
At the mouth of One-leg, in the bounds of my circuit,
there lived a hunter and trapper. He spent the most of
his time in the woods and mingled but little with society.
Ile was looked upon by the neighbors as rather an object
of dread than otherwise. As I had a long ride between
my appointments, I concluded, one day, to take his cabin
in my route and stop with him and his family, and perhaps I might be able to do them some good. Accordingly I rode up to his rude habitation and asked him if I
could get something for myself and horse to eat. He
cast a sour look at me and crustily replied, "I suppose
you can." I got off my horse and walked in, and while
his wife was making preparations for a meal, I looked up
and saw his rifle suspended upon hooks over the door.
Said I to him, "You have a good-looking gun hanging
there."  He replied, "Yes."
"Are you a good shot, Mr. Reeves?"
"I count myself among the very best."




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                 205,"Do you think you can beat me?"
"Yes, with all ease, or any other man."
"I have some doubts on that subject."
"You can soon settle that matter after you get your
dinner."
He then took down his rifle, put it in order, and made
his target, and waited till I had partaken of my dinner,
seemingly impatient to test my skill as a marksman.  We
walked out, and placing the target he stepped off the distance anid said, "The first shot is yours."  I took the
rifle, and, taking deliberate aim at the center, fired.  He
reloaded and did the same, but I had beaten, as my ball
was nearest the center. We fired again, and this time he
had slightly the advantage, which seemed to cheer him
much. We took another round, and my ball was the
nearest the 6enter. The whole six balls, so close were the
shots, could have been fully covered by a quarter of a
dollar. He was anxious to try it again, but I declined,
saying, " If it suits your pleasure, wait till I come round my
circuit again, and then, if you wish, we will try it over.
I will then stay all night, and we will have more time." I
said, also, "If you will tell your neighbors to meet here at
three o'clock, four weeks from  to-day, I will preach to
them.".- I then returned to the house, got my horse, and
proceeded on to my next appoirtment.
When I came round at the appointed time, I fottnd ail
the men, women, and children of the settlements, within
four miles, collected to hear me preach. I had great freedom, and during the discourse there was much weeping.
I spoke affectionately to all about their salvation. After
the congregation had dispersed, the trapper came to me
and said,
"Excuse me, sir, I wish to go trapping; you can stay
ait my house till I return."
"'Bt," said I, "let me go with you."  To this he




206            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
assented. and gelling his traps we started.  On the way I
proposed to take half the traps and set them, that we
might see which had the best luck. He agreed to this,
and we went on setting trap about. When a favorable
opportunity presented itself I commenced conversing with
him about the salvation of his soul and the souls of his
family, and preached to him Jesus and his salvation. At
first he scarcely knew how to take me; but seeing my
earnestness and sincerity, at length he yielded to the
power of truth, and he burst out into passionate expressions of grief.  After setting the traps we returned to the
trapper's home. I prayed with the family thbLt night and
also in the morning, and started on my way. On my
next visit the trapper and his wife obtained the pardon and
the peace of God, and I formed a class at his house and
appointed him the leader.
One of the most tragical events ever recorded, occurred
within the bounds of this circuit at the village of Gnadenhutten, March 8, 1782. The Moravian missionaries, whose
zeal is unquenched by the snows of Lapland, and whose
energy braves the burning sands of Arabia and Africa,
had penetrated these western wilds before the white man
had made his settlement, and had succeeded in establishing
missions on the Tuscarawas, among the Delaware Indians.
They had three stations on the river; namely, Gnadenhutten, Shoenbrun, and Salem.  These v.'la.ges were occupied by the Indians, all of whom had bhcome Christian
ized, and were peacefully engaged in tLe various pursuits
of civilization.
Several depredations having been. committed by hostile
Indians, about the time of which I am writing, on the.
frontier inhabitants of Western Pennsylvania and Virl
ginia, they determined to retaliate, and a company of one
hundred men was raised and placed under the command
vif Colonel Williamson, as a corps of volunteer militia.




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               207
rhey set out for the Moravian towns on the Tuscarawas
river, and arrived within a mile of Gnadenhutten on the
night of the 5th of March.
On the morning of the sixth, finding the Indians at
work in their cornfield on the west bank of the river,
sixteen of Williamson's men crossed over, two at a time,
in a large sugar trough, taking their rifles with them.'The remainder went into the village, where they found an
Indian and squaw, both of whom they killed. The sixteen on the west side, on approaching the Indians, found
them  more numerous than they had anticipated. The
Indians had their arms with them, which they carried
not only for purposes of protection, but for killing game.
The whites accosted them'kindly, telling them that thev
had come for the purpose of taking them to a place where
in future they would be protected in safety, no longer to
be startled by the rude alarm of angry foes. They advised them to quit work, and go with them to Fort Pitt.
Some of the tribe had been taken to that place in the pre.
ceding year, and were treated with great kindness by
their white neighbors, and especially the governor of the
fort, and returned to their homes with tokens of friendship and kindness. Under such circumstances it was not
surprising that the innocent and unsuspecting Moravian
Indians surrendered their arms, and at once consented to
place themselves under the protection and control of Williamson and his men. An Indian messenger was dispatched to Salem, for the purpose of apprising their brethren of the arrangement, and then both companies returned
to Gnadenhutten. On reaching the village, a number of
mounted militia started for the Salem settlement, but ere
they reached it, so great was the dispatch of the messenger, that they found the VMoravian Indians at that place
had already left their cornfields, and were on the road tn
jOin their brethren at Gnadenhutten.  Measures had been




40AS          AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
previously adopted to secure tlie Indians whom they had
at first decoyed into their power, and accordingly they
were bound, and confined in two houses, securely guarded.
On the arrival of the Indians from Salem- their arms
having been secured without any suspicion of their hostile
intentions-they were at once seized, fettered, and divided
between the two prison-houses, the males in one, and the
females in the other. The number thus confined in both
houses, including men, women, and children, amounted
to from ninety to one hundred.
A council was then held to determine how the Moravian Indians should be disposed of. This self-constituted
military court consisted of both officers and privates.
Williamson put the question whether the Indians should
he taken, prisoners, to Fort Pitt, or put to death, requestiag those who were in favor of saving their lives to march
ut of rank, and form a second rank in advance. Only.ighteen, out of the whole number, stepped out as the adrocates of mercy. In these the feelings of humanity pre-,
railed; but in the others, constituting the large majority,
humanity and justice were utterly extinct. They had deliberately come to the conclusion to murder the whole of
the Christian Indians in their power. Among the doomed
were several who had contributed to aid the missionaries
in the work of conversion and civilization; two of whom
emigrated from New Jersey after the death of their pastor, Rev. David Brainard. One Indian female, who could
speak good English, fell upon her knees before Williamson, the commander, and begged most eloquently and piteously for his protection; but all her supplications and
pleadings were unheeded by the heartless and dastardly
wretch, who ordered her to prepare for death.
They had anticipated the cruel fate that awaited them,
and their hymns of praise and fervent prayers ascended
from their prison, during the whole of that eventful nigbi.,




REV. JAMES B. F13LEY;                209
to their great Father in heaven. Their prayers and tears,
and their pleadings for mercy and protection were lost
upon their white murderers, but they entered the ears of
an avenging God. When the morning sun arose, the
work of death commenced, and a scene of human butchery occurred, of sufficient enormity to move the heart
most used to blood and carnage, and gather paleness on
the cheek of darkness itself.  One after another, men,
women, and children were led out to a block prepared fo,
the dreadful purpose, and, being commanded to sit down,
the ax of the butcher, in the hands of infuriate demons,
clave their skulls.  Two persons, who were present at
that time, and who related to me the fearful story, assured
me that they were unable to witness, but for a short time,
the horrid scene.  One of these men stated that when he,saw the incarnate fiends lead a pretty little girl, about
twelve years of age, to the fatal block, and heard her
plead for her life, in the most piteous accents, till her innocent voice was hushed in deathli, he felt a faintness come
over him, and could no longer stand the heart-sickening
3cene. The dreadful work of human slaughter continued
till every prayer, and moan, and sigh was hushed in the
stillness of death. No sex, age, or condition was spared,
from the gray-haired sire to the infant at its mother's
breast. All fell victims to the most cold-blooded murder
ever perpetrated by man.
There lay, in undistinguished confusion, gashed and
gory, in that cellar, where they were thrown by their
butchers, nearly one hundred murdered Christian Indians,
hurried to an untimely grave by those who had but two
days before sworn to protect them. God of humanity,
what an act! But this was not enough. If possible, to
highten its. atrocity, the buildings were fired, and the timbers of their peaceful homes were made the fuel that consumed their lifeless bodies. When I stood beside this cel..
14




210           A'UTOB IO GAPHII   OF
lar, and w'itnessed its blackened and dilapidated walls,
and learned with what fortitude those poor Moravian Indian brethren met their martyr fate, some of them praising God to the last, others, like their divine Master, praying for their murderers, none can tell the deep and
overwhelming feelings of my soul. But, blessed be God!
Satan can only go the length of his chain! The ax of,persecution can only cut down the separating wall that
lets the saint into heaven. The fires can only consume
the mortality, from which the deathless spirit is evolved,
and from whence it shall go, as in chariots of fire, to
heaven.
At this settlement I found the Rev. Mr. Mortimer, who
had charge of the Indians, and the Rev. George Godfrey
Miller, who had charge of the whites in the Moravian
reservation. Here I ventured to go and preach, and the
Lord owned and blessed his word; many were awakened
and converted.  I formed a class, and appointed a leader.
This rather displeased old father Miller, and he wrote me
a letter, requesting me to leave the reservation, and not
preach there any more. I sent him word that I could not
do that; as my commission was to go into all the world,
and preach the Gospel to every creature; and that, as
soon as I was able, I intended to obey the Divine command; and if he had any thing to say, he must say it to
my Master. I furthermore said, if he could ascertain
from the Lord that my field of labor did not include the
reservation, then 1 would comply with his request, and
retire. The next week the old gentleman walked four
miles, to brother Karr's, to meeting. I asked him to
preach for us, which he did; and after meeting, at my
iequest, he remained with us in class, where he received,
with all of us, a powerful blessing. The whole class was
in a flame of love and joy; and the old Moravian saint
caught the fire, and shouted, as loud as any of us, the




REV, JAMF.S B. FINLEY.              2il
praises of God. After this, whenever he could, he worshiped with us, and never alluded to my leaving the
reservation.
On this circuit there were four local preachers; namely,
J. M. Round, John Willey, J. Myers, and James Sharrock;
all efficient and useful ministers of the New Testament.
My first was perhaps the most interesting of all the
years of my itinerant life. I kept a memorandum of the
names, places, and date of all that joined; amounting to
one hundred and sev&enty-eight in number, some of whom
became preachers, and are now on the walls of Zion, proclaimmg salvation in the name of the Lord.




212            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
CHAPTER XI.
LOST IN THE MOUNTAINS.
IN the bounds of my first circuit lived sister Boarer, a
history of whose wonderful deliverance, by Providence,
was related to me with her own lips, and I will narrate it
for the benefit of my readers.
Mrs. Boarer, the heroine and narrator of the story, was
the wife of Mr. George Boarer, and was, by education and
parentage, a Roman Catholic. Her parents were natives
of Berkley county, Va., and, at the time, were residents
of the country in the vicinity of Sleepy creek. Early on
the morning of the 7th of January, 1800, she left home
on a borrowed horse, to cross the Capon Mountains, to
visit her aged parents. She took with her an infant child,
a daughter, seven months old. The snow upon the
mountains was three feet deep, and the weather was exceedingly cold. For defense, and company's sake, sh'
took with her the house-dog, a very large spaniel. Having gained the top of the mountain range, she concluded
to leave the great road, and, by a short cut, arrive the
same night at her father's house.
She had, however, not proceeded far before she found
herself bewildered, and, in consequence, becoming frightened. She dared not turn back, but wandered about
through the mountain till night had settled its gloom over
the world. She then dismounted; and having fastened
her horse to a sapling, she prepared a place, as well as
circumstances would admit, where to pass the night. The
snow, as before remarked, was three feet deep; the dark



REV. JABMES 3. FINLEY.               213
ness was profound, and the wind from  the norh-west
oroke in a hurricane above her. With no company but
her child, and no protector but her dog, her condition was
lonely beyond the imagination to conceive.'Fortunately, she had with her some extra clothing, in
thle shape of a cloak and a shawl. Removing, as well as
she could, the snow from beneath a large tree, she took
her apparel and made the best disposition possible with it;
and, with her child and her dog, she composed herself for
the night.
Sister Boarer stated to me, that for a week previous to
undertaking this journey she was unusually exercised
about her spiritual welfare, and very frequently took an
old prayer-book and read it.
Now, far from her home, desolate and distressed, she
felt the need of close communion with God. The prayers
which she had read the week before came fiesh to her
mind, which she offered fervently to her Maker. The
night was long and dreary, and she spent it without sleep.
Very shortly after fastening her horse, the animal became
uneasy, and breaking his bridle, started off at full speed.
This greatly added to her misfortunes, for she had hoped
by him to have reached some settlement the next day.
At length day dawned; and though, by the help of her
clothing and her dog, she had kept herself and child from
freezing, yet she was so benumbed by the cold as almost
to be unable to walk and carry her infant daughter with
her.  This was Saturday morning.  She now left part of
her clothing, and made an effort to return to the point
where she left the great road.  After traveling till she was
nearly exhausted, she concluded that, unless she reached
the settlement, she must-perish with the cold. Indulging
the hope, however, that she might keep herself fiom freeziug, or be found by some one, she thought it best to
return to the spot where she passed the previous night




214            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
Accordingly, she started back, and, on her way, hung up
her apron on a bush, and afterward a handLerchief, as
signs of distress, in hope, though indeed but faint hope,'hat some passing hunter might see one or the other, and
come to her relief. Late in the afternoon of Saturday,
and with great difficulty, she regained her lodging-place.
But feeling now the dread of passing another night in
so desolate a place, and summoning that indomitable spirit
of courage, peculiar to her sex when in difficulty and
danger, and seeing the sun fast declining, she determined
to change her course; and make one more desperate effort
to gain some settlement. Throwing off part of her apparel, in order to be less incumbered, she began again to
contend with the snow, rocks, and caverns of the mountains, and at length came to a deep, narrow gorge, down
the sides of which she could not descend with her child.
She looked up and down, but could see no place that
offered an easier passage than the one before her.  She
hesitated a moment, but having no other alternative, she
threw her child over, and then followed herself. By taking hold of the laurel bushes on the opposite side of the
ravine, she managed to crawl up to the place where her
child lighted, which, to her great joy, she found uninjured,
save by a slight scratch on its face, caused by its falling
on the crust of the snow. Resuming her journey, she
came upon a hog-path, which led to a cleft of shelving
rocks where these animals were rAccustomed to sleep.
She had now traveled —as was afterward ascertainedone mile and a half.  Here she might have remained sheltered for the night, but fearing the return of the half
starved hogs, and that herself, her child, and her dog,
might all become a sudden prey to their voraciousness,
and her family never learn their fate, she immediately
resumed her march, and, weary and faint, made her way
about three hundred yards off, to the kide of the mount




REV. JAMES B1. FINLEY.               21b
uam. Finding her stockings entirely cut up by the crust
of the snow, and her limbs, and ankles, and feet all bleeding, she yielded the struggle, and under some pine bushes
hard by, she obtained a place to sit down; but the snow
sinking beneath her, rendered her situation most critical
and desperate.
She took care to wrap her clothes around her feet and
body as well as she could; then clasping her babe warm
to her bosom, she committed herself to God.
Her faithful dog had not left her, and this night would
hie down just where she bade him; sometimes on her feet
and limbs, and sometimes at her back, changing alternately, as if to keep her from freezing. During the night
she fell asleep, being exhausted with the labor and with
want of food. This night it snowed and blew, till the
new fall of snow was ten inches deep on the top of the
former.  When she awoke she heard the chickens crowing
at the foot of the mountain, and the dogs barking, so near
was she to a house; but the wind was blowing directly
from them to her, which proved extremely unfavorable to
her. About the same time she thought she heard the
people feeding their cattle.  She called as loud and as long
as she could, but no one came to her relief.  This morning she found that her feet and limbs were badly swelled,
and the skin, in many places, broken.
This discovery went home to her heart, and she commenced to make her peace with God, and gave herself up
to die. She thought if her infant child were dead, she,
too, could die in peace; but to leave it to perish with cold
and hunger, was a thought more than a mother's heart
could bear. She laid the little thing down to freeze to
death before she should die herself, but when it wept
she would take it up and clasp it to her bosom.  1)espairing at last to make herself heard, as the wind continued to blow  violently in a contrary direction, she




216            AuTOBIOGRAuPHI   or
resorted to another expedient. It was this: She pinned
her child's bonnet around the dog's neck and sent him to
solicit help.  The poor animal, as if perfectly understanding hei meaning, started off immediately, and was afterward tracked to the house nearest to his distressed mistress, and then to a mill; but, it being Sabbath day and
extremely cold, the dwellings were all shut up and no one
saw him, and in an hour or two he returned and took up
his station. When it was becoming about feeding time
she commenced calling again, and a man on the top of a
stack of hay heard her, and told his wife that he heard
something on the mountain making a noise like a person
in distress; and he went to a neighbor and told him the
same thing; to which the latter, however, only replied, "I
suppose it must be a panther." This night was likewise
spent in making her peace with God, and she stated to me
that if she had perished that night she had no doubt but
that she would have gone to heaven. Part of the night
was spent in great anxiety about her child. Her faithful
dog, as he had done before, kept close to her, and would
iay down precisely where told to.  This circumstance, in
connection with that of being covered with snow, kept her
from freezing to death.
In the morning, which was Monday, she commenced
calling, the third time, for help.  Her clothes were frozen
to the ground, and kept her from rising, and her exhaustion was complete. She called like one yielding to de.
spair; but the wind being now favorable, a man who was
feeding his stock heard her voice, as also did this w'fe in
the house, who was intimately acquainted with the distressed heroine of our narrative, and who said to her
husband, "If Polly Boarer was near, I should say it was
her voice."  James Smith and John M'Intyre took their
guns, and mounted their horses and started, but were
deceived in their course by the echoes of Mrs. Boarer's




RE-V. J AMES 13. FVILEVY.             21?
voice. They hunted nearly all day, and returned home,
and were about putting up their horses, when Mr. Smith
heard the same plaint of distress. The sun was about an
hourn high, and the long, lingering beams, striking from
the far horizon upon the snow-clad wilds, inspired feelings
of the deepest gloom and solitude.
They started again, but the feeble cry of the perishing
woman had ceased, and, just as the men were taking a
wrong direction, she said that she felt an indefinable, mysterious feeling come over her, which seemed to say that if
she only would call again, help would come to her. She,
therefore, called once more, and was heard, and found.
But a new difficulty now arose. She was frozen to the
ground, and was almost lifeless, and her faithful dog
refused to let the strangers approach.  At length, however, he was pacified. She had not shed a tear till this
moment of her rescue. But now the tears fell, like raindrops, from her eyes. She was speedily conveyed to the
nearest house, where she became insensible, and remained
so for twenty-four hours. The flesh fell or rather peeled
off her limbs, and many of her toes came off; so that she
was unable to walk till the following August —a period of
over six months. Her husband supposed that his wife
was safe at her father's, and her father never thought that
she had started to visit his family. The horse, after becoming fiee, did not return home; so that there was no
suspicion felt in regard to her safety.
I leave the reader to his and to her own reflections on
this incident.  I have heard the mother and the daughter
tell, in love7feast, what I have here imperfectly told you.
How true, and how applicable in every condition of lifein poverty or in health, in prosperity or adversity, mn sunshine or in storm, in plenty or in distress-that declaration of the merciful Keeper of our race, "My grace la
sufficient for thee!"




218          xAUTOBIOGRAPHY  OP
CHAPTER XII.
THE DOOMED CHIEFTAIN.
DURING this summer an event occurred, on the circuit
adioining the one which I traveled, of a tragical and melancholy character; and, as I propose, in connection with
tny own biography, to furnish the reader with a cotemporaneous history of the times in which I lived, I will relate
the circumstances connected with that event.
On the evening of the first day of June six Wyandott
warriors went to the house of Mr. Benjamin Sells, on the
Scioto river, about twelve miles above the spot where now
stands the city of Columbus. They were equipped in the
most warlike manner, and exhibited, during their stay, an
unusual degree of agitation. Having ascertained that an
old Wyandott chief, for whom they had b-en making diligent inquiry, was then encamped, at a distance of about
two miles further up, on the west bank of the river, they
expressed a determination to put him to death, anda imme
diately went off in the direction of his lodge.
These facts were communicated, early on the ensuing
morning, to Mr. John Sells, who now resides in the village
of Dublin, on the Scioto, about two miles from the place
where the doomed Wyandott met his fate. Mr. Sells immediately proceeded up the river, on horseback, in quest
of the Indians. He soon arrived at the lodge, which he
found situated in a grove of sugar-trees, close to the bank
of the river. The six warriors were seated, in consultation, at the distance of a few rods from the lodge. The
old chief was with them, evidently in the character of a




RE V. JAMES B. FINLEY.             219
prisoner. His arms were confined by a small cord, but
he sat with them without any manifestation of uneasiness.
A few of the neighboring white men were likewise there,
and a gloomy-looking Indian, who had been the companion of the chief, but now kept entirely aloof-sitting sullenly in the camp. Mr. Sells approached the Indians, and
found them earnestly engaged in debate. A charge of
"witchcraft" had been made, at a former time, against
the chief, by some of his captors, whose friends had been
destroyed, as they believed, by means of his evil powers.
This crime, according to the immemorial usage of the
tribe, involved a forfeiture of life. The chances of a
hunter's life had brought the old man to his uresent location, and his pursuers had sought him out, in order that
they might execute upon him the sentence of their law.
The council was of two or three hours' duration. The
accusing party spoke alternately, with much ceremony,
but with evident bitterness of feeling, The prisoner, in
his replies, was eloquent, though dispassionate. Occasionally a smile of scorn would appear, for an instant, on
his countenance.  At the close of the consultation it was
ascertained that they had reaffirmed the sentence of
death which had before been passed upon the chief. Inquiry having been made, by some of the white men, with
reference to their arrangements, the captain of the six
warriors pointed to the sun, and signified to them that
the execution would take place at one o'clock in the afternoon.  Mr. Sells went to the captain, and asked him what
the chief had done. "Very bad Indian," he replied,
"make good Indian sick-make horse sick-make dievery bad chief." Mr. Sells then made an effort to persuade his white friends to rescue the victim of supeystl
tion from his impending fate, but to no purpose. T'lhey
were then in a frontier situation, entirely open to the
incursions of the northern tribes, and were, consequently,




22)           AtUTOBIOGR;APit~T OF
unwilling to subject themselves to the displeasure of their
savage visitors by any interference with their operations
He then proposed to release the chief by purchase —offering to the captain, for that purpose, a fine horse, of the
value of three hundred dollars.  "Let me him see," said
the Indian. The horse was accordingly brought forward,
and closely examined; and so much were they staggered
by this proposition, that they again repaired to their place
of consultation, and remained in council a considerable
length of time before it was finally rejected.
The conference was again terminated, and five of thf
Indians began to amuse themselves with running, jump
ing, and other athletic exercises. The captain took n(
part with them. When again inquired of as to the tim,
of execution, he pointed to the sun, as before, and indicated the hour of four. The prisoner then walked slowlj
to his camp, partook of a dinner of jerked venison.,
washed, and arrayed himself in his best apparel, ant
afterward painted his face. His dress was very rich —
his hair gray, and his whole appearance graceful and
commanding. At his request the whole company drew
around him at the lodge. He had-observed the exertions
made by Mr. Sells in his behalf, and now presented to
him a written paper, with a request that it might be read
to the company. It was a recommendation, signed by
Governor Hull, and, in compliance with the request of
the prisoner, it was fixed and left upon the side of a large
tree, at a short distance fiom the wigwam.
The hour of execution being close at hand, the chief
shook hands in silence with the surrounding spectators.
On coming to Mr. Sells he appeared much moved, grasped
his hand warmly, spoke for a few minutes in the Wyandott language, and pointed to the heavens. He then
turned from the wigwam, and, with a voice of surpassing
strength and melody, commenced the chant of the death.




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               221
song. He was followed closely by the Wyandott warriors, all timing, with their slow and measured march, the
music of his wild and melancholy dirge.  The white men
were all likewise silent followers in that strange procession.
At the distance of seventy or eighty yards from the camp
they came to a shallow grave, which, unknown to the
white men, had been previously prepared by the Indians.
Here the old man kneeled down, and, in an elevated but
solemn tone of voice, addressed his prayer to the Great
Spirit. As soon as he had finished, the captain of the Indians kneeled beside him, and prayed in a similar manner.
Their prayers, of course, were spoken in the Wyandott
tongue. When they arose, the captain was again accosted
by Mr. Sells, who insisted that, if they were inflexible in
the determination to shed blood, they should at least remove their victim beyond the limits of the white settlements. ".No!" said he, very sternly, and with evident
displeasure, "no-good Indian fraid-he no go with this
bad man-mouth give- fire in the dark night-good Indian fraid-he no go!  My friend," he continued, "me
tell you-white man bad man, white man kill him-Indian say nothing."
Finding all interference futile, Mr. Sells was at length
compelled, reluctantly, to abandon the old man to his fate.
After a few moments' delay, he again sank down upon his
knees, and prayed, as he had done before. When he had
ceased praying he still continued in a kneeling position.
All the rifles belonging to the party had been left at the
wigwam. There was not a weapon of any kind to be seen
at the place of execution, and the spectators were, consequently, unable to form any conjecture as to the mode of
procedure which the executioners had determined on for
the fulfillment of their purpose. Suddenly one of the warriors drew, from beneath the skirts of his capote, a keen,
bright tomahawls, walked rapidly up behind the chieftain.




222            AUTOBIOGRAPEHY  OF
orandished the weapon on high for a single moment, and
then struck with his whole strength. The blow descended
directly upon the crown of the head, and the victim immediately fell prostrate.  After he had lain awhile in the
agonies of death, the Indian captain directed the attention
of the white men to the drops of sweat which were gathering upon his neck and face, remarking, with much apparent exultation, that it was conclusive proof of the sufferer's guilt  Again the executioner advanced, and, with
the same weapon, inflicted two or three additional and
heavy blows.
As soon as life was entirely extinct, the body was hastily buried, with all its apparel and decorations, and the
assemblage dispersed. The Wyandotts returned immediately to their hunting-grounds, and the white men to
their homes.
Around the spot where his bones repose, the towering
forest has now given place to the grain field; and the soil
above him has, for years, been fuirowed and refurrowed
by the plowshare. The Wyandott nation, to whom the
old chief belonged, never afterward were reconciled to
the tribe that killed him.




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.              2 2
CHAPTER XIII.
ITINERANT LIFE CONTINUED.
As' the conference which was held November 1, 18W0, I
was appointed to Knox circuit. This circuit was taken
trom Fairfield circuit at the conference held in Cincinnati
on the thirtieth of September, 1809, and, of course. this
was the second year of its existence. Though a iarge
circuit, still it was not so large as Wills Creek. It commenced at the mouth of Licking opposite Zanesville, and
embraced all the settlements on that stream up to Newark; thence up the south fork of Licking to Holmes's, and
on to Granville, extending as far as Raccoontown, now
Johnstown; thence on the north fork to Robinson's mill
and Lee's, on to Mount Vernon and Mitchell Young's;
thence down Owl creek to Sapp's and John's, and down
to the mouth of Whitewoman; thence down the Muskingum, including the Wapatomica country, to the place
of beginning. It took four full weeks to travel around
this circuit. It was well supplied with local help, there
being eight local. preachers living within its bounds, as
follows: James Smith, John Green, -     Rapp, Joseph
Pigman, James Fleming, Joseph Tharp, --  Parks, and
- Pumphrey. Six of these were from Virginia, and
the other two from Monongahela. At that time they were
all pious men, and devoted zealously to their Master's
cause.
I commenced my first round with much fear and trembling, and most ardently did I pray for Divine guidance
and protection. At some of the appointments, I w a




224           AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
permitted to witness the fruit of my labors in the awaken
mg and conversion of sinners to God.
At Bowling Green the Lord visited us with a great and
powerful revival. Many souls were converted and made
to rejoice with a joy unspeakable and full of glory. Multitudes were also added to the Church, and the people of
God were greatly refreshed in spirit. But as it is in
almost all revivals so in this-the devil was roused from
his slumbers in hearing the prison-doors fly open and the
chains fall off from' the captives, and like Giant Despair,
in good old Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, he hastened to
defend his castle. During our night meetings the emis'
saries of Satan cut the people's clothes with scissors as
they engaged in prayer. They also cut the saddles and
bridles of the horses. This, however, only increased the
zeal of God's people, and drove them more closely to the
Lord and to each other.
A great and glorious work also broke out at Mount
Vernon. At this place there lived an Indian woman, who
was united in marriage to a man who had been a prisoner
in the tribe to which she. belonged. She was in the habit
of attending our meetings, and seemed to take a great
interest in all our exercises.  On one occasion, after
preaching, she staid in class, and when I came round I
spoke to her on the subject of her soul's salvation. She
wept and said, "Me too bad, me no love get good, me too
much sin, me sick, me no sleep, me no eat, me walk all
night, me no look to Great Spirit; he no love me, me so
bad." I told her to pray to the Great Spirit and he
would bless her. I asked her if she did not love her child
when it did bad and then was sorry for it. - "0 yes, me
love my child."  Then said I, "God will pity, and love,
and save you when you cry and are sorry for your sins."
At this she went away weeping as though her heart would
break. At the next meeting of the class she came again,




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               225
but, instead of being filled with sorrow and anguish, she
was happy in the love of God. When she arose to speak.
she said, "Me no more sorry; me no more sick; me
happy, happy, happy; my husband, he pray to Great
Spirit, and cry too, and he happy; den we go togedder."
She was an interesting woman. - Her dark, raven tresses
fell in glossy ringlets over her shoulders, and her large,
dark, lustrous eye beamed with the joy of heaven. She
was the happiest creature, I think, I ever beheld. Though
she spoke broken English, she was cultivated and graceful, and one of the finest specimens of nature's children
fthat could be found in the western wildwood.
This year we had two camp meetings on our circuit,
and they were both attended with great power. At the
last one which was held, we were favored with both of
our Bishops, Asbury and M'Kendree. During the progress of this meeting, the greatest and most wonderful displays of the Divine power were manifested, and many
were savingly converted to God.
Brother Samuel Hamilton was converted at this meeting, and soon became a flaming herald of the cross. In
a short time he entered the traveling connection, and has
been engaged in effective, laborious service till within a
few years past, when, in consequence of ill-health, he
was obliged to abandon the work he loved so well, and
take a superannuated relation.
Brother Gavit was also converted at this meeting, and
still lives to bear witness to the power of Divine grace in
changing the heart. He resided in the town of Granville,
which had been settled by a company from New England,
of the old stock of Calvinistic Puritans. He was a conirmed Deist, and had been rooted and grounded in irfidelity for many years. In this town resided an old sea
3aptain with his wife and two daughters. The captain
was a confirmed drunkard, and was spending all his prop.
15




226           AUTOBit  JRAPHYI  O0
erty in the gratification of this monster appetite. At a
town meeting, Mr. Gavit was appointed his guardian —a
most wholesome arrangement.  Every conceivable means
was used by th- guardian to break up the habit of the
captain, and every inducement was offered to get him
restored to sobriety. All, however, proved in vain. As
a last resort, he took him to camp meeting; for, although
he had no faith in religion, and cared not for any of its
exercises, he believed, from what he had seen, and heard,
that the Methodists had some process by which they
could transform a drunkard into a sober man.
The time at length arrived, and, with much moral suasion and physical force, he succeeded in getting Mr. B.
into the carriage, in company with himself, Mrs. Gavit,
and their eldest son. On Saturday they arrived on the
ground, and pitched their tent that evening. In the
mean time the captain stole away from their observation,
and became intoxicated.  Mr. Gavit went and brought
him  into the tent.  A strict watch was now kept over
him, lest he should again run away. The Sabbath passed
away, and B. became perfectly sober. In the evening
God opened heaven, and let down glory on the encampment. A praying circle was formed; and Mr. Gavit,
taking the captain by the arm, said, "Let us go into the
circle, for I have brought you here to get you converted,
and now is the time."
I saw them coming; and as they approached, he asked
me if they could get in. I made a way for them in the
crowd, and they passed in. After succeeding in getting
as close as possible to those who were engaged in leading
the exercises, Mr. Gavit said to the captain,
"Who will you have to pray for you?"
"I don't want any one to pray for me," he replied.
"But you must get down on your knees, and have the
prayers of this people."




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                227
Seing he was resolved, and.nowing the determined
chlaracter of the man, he said,
"Well, if I must have prayer, I would just as soon
have Mr.'C., the class-leader, pray for me, as any one."'
The leader was soon brought, and Mr. G. said to the
captain,
"Now get down on your knees."
He replied, "I don't like to do that, unless you will
kneel with me."
In an instant both were on their knees, and the classleader began to pray, with all the faith and fervency of
his soul, for the salvation of both. The power of God
came down, and, in less than two minutes, Gavit fell prostrate on the ground, and screamed for mercy, like one in
despair. This frightened the captain, and, springing from
his knees, he fled through the crowd, and made his escape.
We carried G. out of the crowd, and brought his wife and
son, but could not get the captain to move a step from
the tent. We prayed with G. all night, during which
time his wife and son were powerfully convicted.  They
all continued to pray and seek religion, but did not find
peace.
The time arrived for the meeting to close, and Mr. G.
and family made their departure for home. A heavy load
was at his heart, and he was loth to leave the ground.
While on the way, so insupportable did his burden of sin
become, that he ordered his son to stop the carriage, and
they all got out and held a prayer meeting by the roadside. During this meeting, the son was converted, and
the captain became powerfully convicted, and began to
cry for mercy.  They again resumed their journey, the
son shouting, the father and mother praying, and the cap
tain weeping.  On their journey they were stopped at
Newark, and invited to prayer meeting; at which Mr. G.
and his wife both found peace in believing, and went on




228             AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
their way holne, giving glory to God. Shortly after thit
the captain was happily converted.  When I came rounc'
I formed a class, consisting of these four persons; and
this was the introduction of Methodism  into Granville.
All these lived happy Christians. Mr. G. had two younger
sons that embraced religion, and became efficient and useful traveling preachers.
We were not only favored, at this camp meeting, with
the presence of our beloved bishops, but also by the presence of the Rev. Robert Manley, a flaming herald of the
cross. and pioneer of the Gospel in the west. I shall
never forget the first time I saw him. At a camp meeting, held at brother John Collins's, on the east fork of the
Little Miami, in the year preceding the one about which I
am writing, I had the pleasure of an introduction to this
devoted and talented minister, by brother Collins, who
represented him as his spiritual father.
When he arose in the stand, all eyes were turned
toward him. Instead of giving out a hymn, as is customary on such occasions, before preaching, he commenced, in a full, clear, and musical voice, singing thai
exceedingly-impressive, spiritual song,
"Awaked by Sinai's awful sound,
My soul in guilt and thrall I found;
I knew not where to go.
O'erwhelmed with guilt, and anguish slain,
The sinner must be born again,
Or sink to endless woe."
Before he had finished singing the fourth verse. the
power of God came down, and pervaded the vast assembly, and it became agitated-swelling and surging like
the sea in a storm.  It seemed as if the glory of God
filled the entire encampment. At this meeting, it may be
said, the power of Manley reached its culminating point
Never did he preach with greater eloquence and power
nor were his efforts ever crowned with greater success




tVt. JA2MES B. E   fINLE; Y.         229
But his wolk was done. Shortly after the meeting closed
he was taken sick, and called from labor to refreshmnlent
and rest in heaven, by the summons of his Master.
"Servant of God, well done;
Rest from thy loved employ:
The battle's fought, the victory won;
Enter thy Master's joy."
During this round I made an attempt to preach in the
town of Newark. This place'was notorious for its wickedness; and, as no house was opened for me, I was
obliged to preach in the bar-room of a tavern.  Fearing
the citizens would cut my saddle, or shave my horse, I
hid him in the bushes. When I stepped into the door I
iound the room full; and many were crowded around the
bar, drinking.. It looked to me more like the celebration
of a bacchanalian org-ie, than a place for the worship of
God. But I had made an appointment; and I must fill it
at all hazards; and, as the Gospel was to be preached to
every creature, my mission extended to every place this
side of hell. I procured a stool, and, placing it beside the
door, got upon it, and cried out, at the top of my voice,
"Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and
Christ shall give thee life." For thirty minutes I labored
to show the audience that they were on their way to hell,
and as insensible of their danger as though locked fast in
the embrace of sleep.  I assured them  that hell would
soon awaken them. When I had done warning them of
their danger, and inviting them to Christ, I returned to
the bushes, found my horse, and rode to brother Channel's. The bar-room folks made search for me, but I was
gone. They sent me word, if I came again they would
roast me; but, notwithstanding, I made another appointment in the court-house.
On my next round, fearless of the threats of the
bar-room hearers, I preached in the court-house, to a




230           A UToBIOGiRAP1 vt  OF
more orderly congulegation, and formed a class. At _hi7
place I continued to preach regularly during the year,
and was permitted to witness some fruits of my labors.
On one of my tours down the north fork of Licking,
one evening I heard, not far from me, the report of a rifle,
andl instantly heard some one scream as if shot. It was
getting dark, and I rode on to brother Robinson's, and,
after being there a short time, a messenger came and
informed us that a man had been shot up the creek. We
immnediately started for the place where he was reported
to have been shot, and found the track and blood in the
snow. We traced the wounded man as far as the creek,
which he had crossed, and, following him by the blood
which had spurted from his wound at every jump, as from
a stricken deer, for about one mile, where we found him in
a cabin, with a family. He was shot through the body;
but, being in a stooping position, the ball escaped his
vitals. The man who shot him was a neighbor;. to whom
the wounded man had been a great friend.  He had
loaned his murderer a sum of money; and for simply asking the payment of a part of it, the debtor determined on
killing' him, for the purpose, doubtless, of getting clear of
the whole debt. It appeared, from the testimony of the
wounded man, that he had followed him a mile, and made
several attempts to shoot, but was deterred, from some
cause or other, till he arrived at that fatal spot. We
bound up his wounds in the best manner we were able,
and, after praying with him, returned home. A similar
case occurred a few years since, in the melancholy dcath
of Dr. Parkman, of Boston. 0, the wickedness of the
human heart! Who can know it?
Soon after our second camp meeting a glorious work
commenced at the house of brother John's. After preaching, and meeting class, the company separated, and went
in different directions, to their homes. On the way, a




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               231,oung' woman, who had been convicted at the meeting,
fell down in the road, and greatly alarmed those who
were with her. They scarcely knew what to do; but
finally came to the conclusion to take her back to the
place of meeting. She was the sister of the lady at'whose house the meeting was held; and when the circumstance of her having fallen on the way home was
noised abroad, the whole neighborhood came together.
The religious portion commenced singing and praying;
and, wLile engaged in these exercises, the power of Godi
came down upon them, and many were smitten by the
Divine influence, and fell to the floor, crying for mercy.
The intelligence of this excitement spread in every direction; and great multitudes, from a distance, flocked
together to see this wonderful thing. The young womanEliza Hankins-still remained insensible, without exhibiting any signs of life. Fears were entertained by some,
that she would never recover from this state; but, after
remaining apparently lifeless, for the space of thirty-two
hours, she sprang instantly to her feet, and commenced
singing  and shouting  alternately.  Her face seemed
lighted up with an unearthly radiance; and, as she spoke
of Jesus and heaven, in strains of the most inimitable
eloquence and sweetness, the whole congregation was
overwhelmed, and we felt ourselves in the presence of a
superior being, rather than that of an artless, unsophisticated country girl.  This gave a fiesh impulse to the
work of God, and the exercises resembled those of a
camp meeting more than any thing else. The meeting
lasted ten days, increasing in interest and power; and
there were at least one hundred happily converted to God.
An incident occurred during this meeting worthy of
particular note; and, as it belongs to a class of fiequent
ioccurrence in the early days of Methodism in this coun-'ry, I will narrate it. A young man had come to the meet



2E29          AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
ing, who seemed to have been possessed of the devil.
His ravings and blasphemy shocked all who heard him.
He boastingly exclaimed that he defied the power of
God; and that those who had fallen were overcome by
the influence of fear, or nervous weakness. While this
stout-hearted young man was listening to the fervid eloquence of the young woman before described, he sprang
suddenly from his feet, and fell his whole length on the
floor. Had he been shot through the heart, he would not
nave fallen more suddenly, or been more lifeless to all
appearance. Here was a marked demonstration of the
power of God, in irresistible conviction; and I determined
to watch the issue closely. His companions in sin were
terribly alarmed, and many of them hurried away. After
lying a short time, the limbs of the young man became
perfectly rigid, and remained in this state for eight hours,
when they relaxed, and he was seized with convulsions of
such an intense and powerful character, that it seemed as
though he must die from the agony. While thus torn, as
the demonized young man in the Gospel, till the hearts
of all were wrung with sympathy at his sufferings, and
some began to fear the consequences, instantly he sprang
to his feet, praising God for his salvation, and exhorting
all his friends to seek an interest in the Savior. His conversion was a matter of astonishment to all. One man,
who was inveterately opposed to the revival, said that it
was the work of the devil. I replied, "If it be a work of
the devil, when this young man recovers from this state
he will curse and swear as formerly; but if it be a work
of God; his oaths and curses will be turned into prayers
and praises." When the gainsayer witnessed the wonderful change wrought on the young man, he was confounded, and went away.
The Lord crowned our labors this year with abundant
success.  Upward of two hundred were added to tlh




I; ttV. JVMAis    P.  f o  XJ I.   L L e
Church   I left this circuit as I did my first one, with
many tears, and knew not how strongly my heart was
attached to my brethren till I was called to separate from
them.
At the conference held in Cincinnati in 1811, E. Bowman was appointed to be my successor. This was a, sad
appointment.  He no sooner arrived than he commenced
sowing the vile seed of Arianism and Socinianism, which
spread over the whole circuit. It was not long till it
sprang up and produced its deadly fruit. James Smith,
John Green, and other local preachers embraced this heresy and joined the New Lights.  Green soon backslid,
lost the comforts of religion, and, as I learned, became a
drunkard-broke the hearts of and beggared his once
happy family. Rapp also embraced the doctrine, and lost
the grace of God out of his heart.
Henry Haines, once a good man, full of faith and good
fruits, went off with them, and soon after became deranged and hung himself.  Mody was also among the
number of apostates from the faith. He erected a distillery, lost all his beautiful property at Bowling Green,
ruined his interesting family, and died a most horrible
death. Others, who left in this heresy, became Universalists and infidels. lNever was that Scripture more clearly
fulfilled than in the case of these unfortunate men —" they
have chosen their own way and I will choose their delusions."
It is now more than forty years since this sad heresy
prevailed, and its desolating effects are yet to be seen.
The history of this one man, intrusted with the care
of souls, but who proved faithless, is an illustration of
the proverb, "One sinner destroyeth much good."  Let
all beware how they depart from sound doctrine. The
first digression from the old and beaten path of truth is
attended with danger, and no one can tell whither he shall
20




234          dAUTTOB: IoGRAPRY~  3A1
wander, or what will be his end, who departs from  (ht
good and the right way. A few years after Thrap and
Fleming went off with the Radicals. Pigman, Parks, and
Pumplhrey, only three out of nine local preachers on the
circuit, remained faithful to their high calling.  They
lived foi many years to preach the Gospel in destitute settlements, and do good in every department of the Church
for which they were fitted, and having finished the work
assigned them, they entered into rest. While the "memory of the wicked shall rot; the righteous shall be had in
everlasting remembrance."
Brother Cratzer, the person with whom I boarded, and
one of the most devoted of Christians, and talented and
useful exhorters, fell into this fatal error and became a
New Light preacher. But, alas! like his deluded comparions, he departed from God and reaped the bitter fiuitspoverty, sin, and death! The memory of these men
should prove as beacons to warn all of the dangerous
rocks on which they wrecked their hopes.
On this circuit lived old brother Carpenter, whose son
Samuel has since become a useful local preacher. Brother
Carpenter resided in St. Albans township, and, being invited, I went to his house and preached. This was the
first sermon ever preached in the township.
On Owl creek there lived a Universalist, who like the
most of them, was full of controversy; and to hear him
talk, one would imagine that he considered himself able
to overturn all orthodoxy, and even "wiser than seven
men who could render a reason." He always came to our
meetings, and invariably pressed me to go home with him.
I was considerably annoyed by the fellow, and one day, for
the purpose of getting rid of him, agreed to accompany
him home. He was a real backwoods hunter, rough and
uncouth in his manners. He lived about four miles from
the appointment, and we started through the woods, trav



teV. JAfMES t. FINLEY.                385
eling. part of the time, a cow path.  When we arrived at
his cabin, which was situated in a corn-patch, and only
about sixteen feet square, I said to him, "Bill, what shall
I do with my horse?"  "Tie him to the fence," he replied.  "Well, but what shall I give him to eat?"  " Feed
him with cut up corn," said he.  It was too late to retreat,
so I went into the cabin, and his wife prepared some venison in backwoods fashion, and we partook of our supper.
As soon as we had finished our repast, Bill got down his
old Bible and said, "Now I have got you, and you will
6e obliged to argue with me on the subject of religion. 1
hlave been waiting for an opportunity for a long time to
have a controversy with you."  "No," said I. "Bill, you
have not a sufficient amount of sense to hold an argument
on any religious subject.  You brought me here as a
Methodist preacher, and I must instruct you and your
family; sc call in all your children and we will have
prayers."  Notwithstanding all his excuses and pleadings
I insisted upon the course I lhad adopted, and his wife and
children were called in, and I read the Scriptures, explained, and applied the truth to all, and then prayed to
God for their salvation.  I trust the poor wife and children were benefited, if the redoubtable Bill was not. After spending a rather unpleasant night in the loft of the
cabin, among the chickens, I arose in the morning, had
prayers with the family, and departed.  Bill never aftei
annoyed me with invitations to go home with him.
At the Cincinnati conference, which I have already
alluded to, I was appointed to Fairfield circuit.  A mistake in the Minutes represents brother Isaac Quinn as
having been appointed to this circuit in chq. ec. Brother
Quinn was on the Tombigbee circuit with William Houston.
These brethren were both elected delegates to the General
conference of 1812.  They both came up from that conference, but did not return.  In June brother Quinn came




28)            AUTO13IoG IAPt~ OiF
home sick, with his brother James, and remained till the
next annual.conference.
This circuit received the name of Fairfield in 1809, and
had been traveled the two preceding years by brother
Ralph Lotspiech. He was of German descent, born in
Virginia, and raised in Tennessee, where he was converted
to God and called to preach the Gospel. He was extremely meek and unassuming in all his manners and deportment, deeply pious, and always wore a serious air.
In his discourses he wept much, and from this circumstance was called, by his brethren, the "weeping prophet."
His pulpit labors were characterized with close practical
application to the consciences of his hearers, and attended
with good results wherever he ministered. While travelino Deer Creek circuit he was attacked with sickness
which was unto death. Realizing that his work was done,
he called his colleague to his bedside, and told him to get
a piece of paper and make an inventory of his property.
Though he had but little, he felt it his duty to "set his
house in order" before he died.  The task, which was a
short and easy one, being completed, and his assets and
liabilities reckoned up, he said, "Well, after paying my
debts there will be one hundred dollars left, and that will
support my wife and almost helpless children [two of
them being t-win babes] for one year, and then God will
provide.  Now," said he to his colleague, "my work is
done; turn me over with my face to the wall." This
being done, he commenced., singing in soft but sweet and
plaintive tones,
"Great spoil I shall win
From.death, hell, and sin;'Midst outward affliction,
Shall feel Christ within.
And when I'm to die,
Receive me, I'll cry;
For Jesus hath loved rre,




REV. JAMES 13. FINLEY.               237
i can not tell why;
But this I do find,
We two are so joined,
He'll not live in heaven,
And leave me behind."
The last strain was finished, and the soul of the "weeping
prophet" went out, with his last song, to that bright
world where "there is no death, neither sorrow nor crying; but where God shall wipe the tears from all eyes."
How rich must heaven be in pure and sainted spirits, whc
have, in the lapse of six thousand years, gone up to people
its bright abodes!
This circuit was large, having twenty-five appointments,
and I increased the number to thirty-eight before the expiration of the year. It extended from the town of Putnam, on the bank of the Muskingum, opposite Zanesville,
ten miles west of Lancaster, and from the head waters of
Licking to the falls of the Hockhocking, including ail the
settlements on Jonathan's creek and Rush creek. It embraced parts of five counties; namely, Muskingum, Lickingo, Fairfield, Perry, and Ross. I traveled round this circuit every four weeks, and formed fifteen new societies.
The local preachers were John Goshen, Jesse Stoneman,
- Park, -     Newman,  -  Bright, Jesse Spurgeon,
and Martin Fate. Spurgeon went off with the party of
Methodists organized in Cincinnati by the Rev. William
Burke. Stoneman, Park, and Bright lived, labored, and
died in the Church. Brothers Goshen and Fate are still
living, advanced in years, but laboring on the walls of
Zion. Robert Manley, the first missionary to the Muskingum, died on this circuit the year before I came, full
of faith and the Holy Spirit.
Among the more prominent of the old Methodists on
this circuit, were Edward Teal, William  Hamilton, and
Blenjamin Smith, the latter being mighty in faith and
prayer  Robert Cloud also lived within its bounds.  The




238            AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
strongest sot ieties were on Rush creek, at Hanlilton's.
Cooper's, Hog Run, and Thomas Ijam's.  Many strong
men and mothers in Israel had emigrated and settled in
these neighborhoods. I never shall forget the true-hearted
Christian kindness and affection with which I was received
and treated by the good, simple-hearted class at Hog Run.
Trhey took me in when a stranger, and comforted me by
their counsel and prayers. It is with no ordinary feelings
of affection that I call these brethren to remembrance.
Brother Pitzer and family were especially endeared to my
heart.  He has long since entered into rest, and his widow
and children have emigrated to the far west. As I before
remarked, I labored alone on this circuit till after the
General conference, which was held in May, when brother
Isaac Quinn came on, with feeble health, from the south,
and, as far as circumstances would permit, labored with
me.
This year will long be remembered as the one in which
this whole region was shaken by a mighty earthquake.
On the night of the twelfth of February, I was awakened
by the rocking of the house in which I slept.  It seemed
as if my bedstead was on a rough sea, and the waves
were rolling under it, so sensible were the undulations.
Slight shocks were felt almost every day and night for
some time. One day, while I was preaching a funeral,
the house began to rock and the cupboard doors flew open.
The people became alarmed and commenced shrieking and
running.  It was a time of great terror to sinners.
The greatest shock was felt on the sixteenth day of the
month.  It commenced at ten o'clock and lasted fifteen
minutes.  I was then in the town of Putnam, opposite to
Zanes'ville, where the Legislature was then in session.  It
was reported that the steeple of the state-house vibrated
some five or six inches, like the pendulum of'a clock. It
was a time of the most awful suspense.  Consternation




REV.  AMES B. FINLEY.                23f
sat on every countenance, especially upon the wicked,
who fled into the streets, clinging one to another, and
crying for mercy. In the town of Putnam there lived a
sister Gardiner, a woman of great piety, and who was
often persecuted for shouting, which she often did, not
only at meetings, but at home, while engaged in her daily
domestic avocations. On this day, while the houses were
rocking and the chimneys falling, as though the dissolution of all things was at hand, sister Gardiner ran out
into the street shouting and clapping her hands, exclaiming, "Glory, glory, glory to God! My Savior is coming!
I am my Lord's and he is mine 1" Thus she showed her
enemies, who were loudly crying for mercy, that her religion, however much despised, could stand the test of so
awful an hour.
Although we had some favorable indications, before this
event, of a revival, it contributed greatly to increase the
interest on the subject of religion. Multitudes who previously paid no attention to the subject of religion, now
flocked out to meeting, and the power of God was mani,
fested, not only in the earthquake and the fire, but in the;
still small yet powerful voice.  The number of converts
was great, and the work extended almost every-where.
The most signal manifestation of Divine power was at
Rush creek, at the house of David Swazy. The neighborhood had been notorious for wickedness, and, especially,
for drunkenness. The young people seemed to devote all
their time to mirth and revelry; but now, instead of
threading the giddy mazes of the dance at the sound of
the viol till past the noon of night, the meetings were
crowded with anxious souls, and the cry of penitence,
which wakes the harps of angels, and the songs of joy
frcm happy converts, were the only sounds that broke
upon the stillness of the night air.
On one occasion I stood upon a table in a new cabin




240           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
and cried out, "For the great day of his wrath is come
and who shall be able to stand?"  That night will nevei
be forgotten in time or eternity. Many hardened sinners
fell, before the power of God, like those slain in battle
Many also found pardon and salvation in the blood of the
Lamb.
On my next round, after preaching at this place, I was
about to meet the class-a thing which I never neglectedwhen one of the brethren came to me and said, "Mr. H.,
the great distiller of whisky, is here with his party, and
they have determined to break into class meeting."  1
placed old brother Hooper at the door, and charged him
to keep it shut and let no one pass without permission
As our meeting progressed the members became happy,
and began to sing and shout most lustily. This attracted
the attention of old brother Hooper, and he became more
interested in the meeting than watchful of the door. In
he mean time HI. came, lifted the latch, opened the door,
and walked in. He had no sooner got in than brother
Hooper reclosed the door and stood against it, fearing the
others would follow the example of their leader. The
great champion of whisky and infidelity was now in a hot
place, and he seemed to be at a loss to know what to do.
I went up to him, and kindly laying my arm around his
neck began to recommend to him my loving Savior. At
this he became somewhat enraged, but I held on to him
and continued to press my entreaties. Presently he began
to tremble from head to foot, like an aspen leaf. Still encouraged, I poured the truth upon him, and his agitation
increased, and letting go my hold he screamed out with
all his might and fell his whole.length iupon the floor. At
that moment the excitement in the room was intense, and
it seemed as if heaven and earth had come together. The
noise nmlht have been heard a mile distant. At this
point brother Hooper opened the door and cried to those




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               241
outside at the top of his voice, " Glory be to God, H. is
down, H. is down 1" The rush to the door, of those from
without, was such as can not be described. As they came
rushing forward they fell upon one another in the doorway, and so completely blocked it up that none could pass
either way. The excitement rose to a tremendous hight,
and it was impossible to close the meeting. Those who
had not fallen under tlhe power of conviction ran to their
horses and fled with the greatest precipitancy and consternation to their homes. The meeting lasted till sunrise the
next morning. Several were converted, and H. joined the
Church, though he did not experience a change of heart.
Had he given up his distillery he doubtless would have
been converted; but God will not hear those who regard,niquity in their hearts, or hold unrighteousness in tneir
hands. He went away, and, as I believe, lived and died
a manufacturer of the accursed poison. Some good, however, resulted from his conviction, as it completely cured
him of his disposition to annoy and persecute the people
of God.
Richard M'Mahan, an amiable, talented, and eloquent
young preacher, who traveled Knox circuit one year before, died at the house of brother John. Feeling that
the vows of God were on him, and he must not stoop to
play with earthly flowers, he turned away fiom  all the
endearments of home and entered the rugged field of itinerant life. He bore hardness as a good soldier; and
though the conflict was severe, it was short and glorious.
Away from home and kindred, in the wilderness, he
yielded up his spirit to God. It was a calm and quiet
evening of summer. All nature seemed hushed into stillness, while in that cottage in the wilderness the youthful
herald of the cross was sinking to rest. Already had he
passed the land of Beulah, breathing the air and hearing
the songs of the celestial city, and now there remained for
16




'42            AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
him nc Lhing but the passage of Jordan. As he neared it
the heavenly glory gleamed upon his brow; and no sooner
did his feet touch the waters than an angelic convoy bore
him safely home.
Again and again have I visited the grave of this sainted
one. It was in the woods —a lone, sequestered spot,
where Solitude herself might have chosen a seat; and yet,
to me, no place could have been more favorable to relig.
ious meditation. No pen could describe my feelings the
first time I visited it alone. The forest cast its deep shade
around. Scattered here and there were wild flowers,
which, one has said, are the alphabet of angels, whereby
they write on hills and plains mysterious truths. Around
the grave was placed a rude inclosure.  Here I read my
Bible on my knees, and prayed, and sang, and often did it
seem to me that 1 was quite on the verge of heaven.




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY                243
CHAPTER XIV.
ITINERANT LIFE CONTINUED.
As fruits of the revivals this year may be reckoner]
seven interesting young men, who were subsequently called')f God to preach the Gospel-James and Jacob Hooper.
Henry, Samuel, and Job Baker, Samuel Hamilton, and
Cornelius Springer.  They all entered the traveling connection, and labored with zeal and success for many years.
Thle latter, however, went off in the Radical secession.
and became the editor of a paper which was adopted as
the organ of Radicalism for the west. This sheet contained many bitter things against the government of the
Methodist Episcopal Church, representing it as an oligarchy, and the bishops, presiding elders, and preachers as sc
many tyrants, lording it over God's heritage. The transition from schism s& railing is easily made, and he, unfortunately for himself and many others who left the Church,
which had taken them from obscurity and nursed them
into character and importance, lost sight of their vocation of calling sinners to repentance and feeding the flock
over which they were placed as shepherds, and spent
their time and exhausted their talents in laboring to break
down the fold from which they had escaped. I shall not,
however, bring against them any railing accusations; "to
their own Master they stand or fall." Many of them
were doubtless sincere, good men; but they were wonderfully misled by a few disappointed, and, consequently, disaffected leaders.
Samuel Baker closed his earthly labors in great peace,




244            AUTOBIOGRIAPHY OF
and entered into rest. Job Baker located, studied medi.
cine, and went south. Since then I have not heard any
thing concerning his history. Jacob Hooper traveled various circuits till his health failed, when he located, and continued, as far as circumstances would allow, to labor in
the vineyard of his Lord. He yet lives, I believe, a good
man and faithful minister. James Hooper still remains
effective, and there is, perhaps, no traveling preacner in
the connection who is more devoted to the missionary and
Sabbath school cause, the latter particularly claiming his
most earnest and faithful attention.  Samuel Hamilton,
till within a few years, has been a most laborious and
efficient traveling preacher. For many years he served
the Church as a presiding elder. Few sons in the Gospel
have lived to graduate among the fathers with more fidelity or honor. Though now worn down with toil and halting to the tomb, he is calmly and patiently waiting the
call of his Master to enter into rest.  May his setting
"Sun in smiles decline,
And bring a pleasing night!"
Henry Baker also lost his health or the rough and toilsome field of itinerant life. It seemed to him that his
mission was at an end, and following the leadings of Providence, he commenced the study of medicine, which he
prosecuted with vigor and success. In due time he was
admitted to practice, and by dint of application and skill
rose to eminence in his profession.  He became the favorite physician of some of our older bishops. After practicing medicine for several years and his health being
somewhat restored, he felt the returning fires of itinerancy glowing within his heart, and he accordingly reentered the traveling connection, where he remains to this
day, a sound doctrinal and practical divine.
So extensive and powerful was the revival on this circuit, that in the short space of three months three hun



REV. JAMES B. PINLEY.              9245
dred sou;s were converted and brought into the Church.
I have in my journal all their names, together with the
classes with which they were connected, and the date of
their joining. A great majority of these ran well in the
Christian course, held out to the end, and received the
victor's crown; some, however, turned back to "the
beggarly elements of the world," and thus brought a
reproach on the goodly cause.
This year I commenced preaching at Mr. John Dillon's
iron-works, on Licking, about six miles from Zanesville.
Mr. Dillon was a member of the society of Friends, or
Quakers, and strongly attached to that denomination. He
had married a lady in Baltimore who was a Methodist;
but the influence of the husband, as, alas! it too often
proves, so far as the Methodist Church is concerned, overcame her denominational attachments, and she joined the
Quakers. Some years afterward, however, by way of reprisal, they were both taken in the Methodist net. Brother
Dillon has been for many years an acceptable and useful
class-leader in the Church. During his life he has been
extensively engaged in commerce and manufactures. He
is a man of talent and enterprise. His indomitable energy
and perseverance have enabled him to breast reverses in
fortune and business, under which thousands would have
been irretrievably ruined. The town of Zanesville, where
he lived for many years in a beautiful mansion on the
bank of the Muskingum, the home of hospitality and
kindness, is indebted to him for much of its prosperity.
He took a lively interest in whatever pertained to agriculture and was calculated to develop the resources of the
country, as his official acts in the agricultural board of
that county will show. He was also a warm friend of
temperance and the cause of colonization. Deeply devoted to the Church, he has ever been ready to advance
her institutions. Mrs. Dillon, his partner, several years




246            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
since entered into rest.  She could always be distinguished in the Church, even in the latter day of Method.
ist refinement, by her neat but rich Quaker dress. She
was a lady of education and refinement, and ardently
attached to the Church; and though called, from her position in life, to mingle with the first class, yet never was
ashamed of the humble society to which she belonged.
Her parlors were always open to prayer and class meetings. Every member of the family embraced religion at
one time and another during life, and joined the Church.
Four of the children have died; namely, Keziah, Lloyd,
Margaret, and Elizabeth.  They all, I believe, died in the
full assurance of faith, and in the hope of a glorious immortality. The sufferings of Lloyd were protracted and
severe; but he bore them with the most exemplary patience and fortitude to the last, frequently rejoicing in
hlope of the glory of God. Margaret-the gifted and
accomplished Margaret —who early gave her heart to God
and consecrated herself devotedly and exclusively to his
service, like one of earth's choicest flowers, too bright
and beautiful to last, was also called to- join the company
of the early dead in that better land. She was smitten
before her life had reached its prime, and, sanctified by
suffering, ripened for heaven. That the loving in life in
death might not be divided, her younger sister soon fol.
lowed her to the brighter mansions above. May all the
members of this household form an unbroken family in
heaven!  Two of the sons are traveling preachers-the
elder a member of the Ohio conference, and the younger a
m:ssionary on the shores of the distant Pacific.
But to resume my narrative.  At Dillon's iron-works
there were many who were grossly addicted to habits of
intoxication.  My first appointment was at Mr. Dick's
tavern, and the prospect was any thing but encouraging.
While I was trying to preach many were engaged in




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                247
drinking and swearing.  On reproving them for their conduct, one fellow turned round, with his glass in hand and a
leering look, and said, "You go on with your business of
preaching and we will mind ours."  However, the Lord
can work and none can hinder; and notwithstanding the
unpropitious circumstances, one of those miserable men
was awakened, and, seeking, found religion.  I formed a
class consisting of John and Jacob Hooper, J. Dittenhiffer,
the new convert, brother Cooper and wife, and Samuel
Gassaway, a colored man. These were all in the employ
of Mr. Dillon, at the furnace. At one time I went down
to the furnace, and, standing on a large salt kettle, delivered a temperance speech. After I was through, I took a
vote and voted all kinds of intoxicating drinks out of and
from around the furnace, and pledged them to keep them
out forever. I then went to work and got up a subscription to build a hewed log meeting-house. Mr. Dillon gave
a lot of ground, and I raised enough, in one morning, to
pay for the building. In a short time the timbers were
all upon the ground and preparations were being made for
a raising.  At this stage of progress, Bishop M'Kendree
came along on his western tour, and we solicited him to
preach the dedication sermon. This, of course, was altogether anticipatory, as the corner-stone had not yet been
laid. At that time, howevery we were not such sticklers
for order, and so our venerable Bishop took his stand upon
the rock on which the church was to be built, and preached
a most powerful sermon from that memorable text, "On
this rock I will build my Clr — h, and the gates of hell
shall not prevail against it.';t was a soul-refreshing
season, and many were awakened and converted to God,
while the hearts of believers were greatly blessed. In
progress of time this house was finished, and remained a
place for divine worship for many years. Subsequently
it was taken dowr. and removed about one mile distant,




24&5           AtToBIOGRAPtY~ OP
where it was re erected and continued as a temple of grace.
That humble edifice remains to this day, and its walls stil
echo the sound of thanksgiving and the voice of praise.
In this neighborhood a gracious work of God was carried
on, and another broke out a few miles distant under the
labors of a local brother-Rev. John Goshen. The place
had been proverbial for wickedness and opposition to godliness. This laborer in the vineyard sought out this field
of wickedness, and took it into his work. He continued
to labor, and weep, and pray over the devoted inhabitants
till the Lord heard and revealed his arm of power. The
devil's kingdom was terribly shaken by the conversion of
the great champion of wickedness, Mr. Savage. The
practices of drunkenness and gambling ceased, and fear
and trembling came upon the most vile and hardened sinners, and many were brought to realize that Christ had
power on earth to forgive sins. These two revivals, like
fires in a prairie, continued spreading till they met, and
the reformation was truly great and glorious.  One of the
greatest, if not, indeed, the greatest, sources of wickedness
and misery resulted from the manufacture, sale, and use
of intoxicating liquor; and the evil, lamentable to be told,
existed in the Church as well as elsewhere. Ardent spirits were used as a preventive of disease. It was also
regarded as a necessary beverage. A house could not be
raised, a field of wheat cut down, nor could there be a log
rolling, a husking, a quilting, a wedding, or a funeral
without the aid of alcohol. In this state of things there
was great laxity on the subject of drinking, and the ministers as well as the members of some denominations imbibed pretty freely.  The only temperance society that
then existed, and,' consequently, the only standard raised
against the overflowing scourge of intemperance, was the
Methodist Church.  The General Rules of the society prohibited the use of intoxicating drinks as a beverage, and




R 1EV. JAMES 13. fINtISt.        249
only allowed their use when prescribed as a medlcine by a
physician.  No other denomination having prohibited the
use of ardent spirits as a beverage, it followed, as a necessary consequence, that all persons who refused to drink
were called, by way of reproach, Methodist fanatics.  But
few came out publicly against this monster evil, and manufacturers, venders, and users were. out against the Church.
I often met with opposition for my advocacy of the cause
of temperance. On my first round I was taken into a
room at one of my stopping-places, where there was a ten
gallon keg. I asked my host, who was said to be a pious
tman, what the keg contained, and he replied that it was
whisky, and that he had procured it for the purpose of
raising a barn with it. I asked him if he did not know
that this drink was the worst enemy of man, and that it
might occasion the death of some person, and be the cause
of a great deal of swearing, and, perhaps, fighting. I
further asked him, if he did not know that God had pronounced a curse against the man who putteth the bottle
to his neighbor's mouth and maketh him  drunken. At
this he became excited and angrily said,. "There is no law
against using whisky, and I'll do as I please."
"Very well," said I, "it is a poor rule that won't work
both ways. If you do as you please, I will do as I please;
and unless you take that keg out of this room I will leave
the house, for I would rather lie out in the woods than to
sleep in a Methodist house with a ten-gallon keg of whisky
for my room-mate."  I furthermore said, "Now, sir, if
any thing transpires at your barn-raising of an immoral
nature, through the use of that infernal stuff, I will turn
you out of the Church."
He refused to move the keg, and I took my horse and
went to another place. At my appointment, the next day,
I took occasion to preach against the use of ardent spirits
in any form, except prescribed by a physician   As soon




250           AUTOBIOGR1APHY  OF
as I was done, an old exhorter came up to me and said,
in a fierce and angry tone, "Young man, I advise you to
leave the circuit and go home, for you are doing more
harm than good; and if you can't preach the Gospel and
let people's private business alone, they do not want vou
at all."
I replied, "I will not go home; and I have a mission
from God to break up this strong-hold of the devil. By
his help I will do it, despite of all distillers and aiders
and abettors in the Church."
Those of my brethren who were alive to God stood by
me, and I drew the sword and threw away the scabbard,
resolving to give no quarters and to ask no quarters in this
war of extermination. An old and respectable Methodist,
who had been in the habit of taking his morning dram
for years, and who kept his bottle locked up in his trunk,
came to reprove me, stating that he was in the habit of
drinking, and had been so for years, and he was not aware
that he was any the worse for it. I told him it was a
great mercy that he had not become a drunkard, for I had
never known a man who was in the habit of drinking reg.
ularly that did not become a drunkard. He said that he
had a constant headache, and was obliged to use stimulants for it. I told him it was that very thing which gave
him the headache; and if he would follow my advice and
quit the use of whisky and tea till I came round again,
which would be four weeks, and he was not cured of headache, then I would submit to his using such stimulants.
The old gentleman made a pledge and kept it, and
when I came round, before I arrived at the house he came
out and told me he was well, having had no pain in his
head for the last two weeks. He became a thorough-going
temperance man, and proved a valuable auxiliary to the
cause. Encouraged in my efforts to promote the cause of
temperance, I suffered no opportunity to pass that I did




RlEV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                25i
aot improve in portraying the physical, social, and moral
evils resulting from intemperance. I dwelt particularly
upon its sad and ruinous effects in a religious point of
view, and made strong appeals to the religion and patriotism of my congregation. Frequently I would pledge
whole congregations, standing upon their feet, to the temperance cause; and during my rounds I am  certain the
better portion of the entire community became the friends
and advocates of temperance, and on this circuit alone, at
least one thousand had solemnly taken the pledge of total
abstinence.  This was before temperance societies were
heard of in this country.  It was simply the carrying out
of the Methodist Discipline on the subject.  My efforts,
as a matter of course, awakened the ire and indignation
of the makers and venders of the ardent, and their curses
were heaped on me in profusion. They would gladly have
driven me from the country if they could, but this was
beyond their power.  One of the greatest distillers in the
land said I was worse than a robber, as I had prevented
him from selling whisky to the harvesters, and his family
was likely to suffer.  The craven-hearted wretch did not
think of the broken-hearted wives and beggared children
his distillery had made. This distiller had a field of grain
to cut, and he invited all his neighbors to help him. They
came at the appointed time. Before the company commenced reaping he offered the bottle to the leader, and
then to all the rest, but no one touched, tasted, or handled the accursed thing. After they had reaped the first
through, he tried them all again, and with many entreaties besought them to drink, but they still persisted in
refusing. At this he became angry, and swore that they
should all leave the field; for if they would not drink
his whisky they should not cut his grain. They paid no
attention to him, but went on reaping; whereupon he or.
dc:red them out of his field, and swore he would prosecute




252           AUTOBIOGRAPIIY  OF
the first man who dared to trespass by cutting another
inch of his grain. Still they kept on reaping, and he went
off with his bottle, swearing vengeance. His friends finished the field, shocked up the grain, and went home.
This circumstance gave a fatal blow to whisky in that
neighborhood at that time and for years afterward. God
at last caused victory to turn upon the side of temperance,
and the Church was delivered from the deadly evil.
This year a camp meeting was held at the Rushvill6
camp-ground. At this meeting we were blessed with the
presence of both of our beloved Superintendents-Asbury
and M'Kendree. A row was raised, on Saturday, by
about twenty lewd fellows of the baser sort, who came
upon the ground intoxicated, and had vowed they would
break up the meeting. One of the preachers went to the
leader for the purpose of getting him to leave, but this
only enraged him, and he struck the preacher a violent
blow on the face and knocked him down. Here the conflict began. The members saw that they must either defend themselves or allow the ruffians to beat them and
insult their wives and daughters. It did not take them
long to decide. They very soon placed themselves in an
attitude of defense. Brother Birkhammer, an exceedingly
stout man, seized their bully leader, who had struck the
preacher, and with one thrust of his brawny arm crushed
him down between two benches. The aiddecamp of the
bully ran to his relief, but it was to meet the same fate;
for no sooner did he come in reach of the Methodist than,
with crushing force, he felt himself ground on the back
of his comrade, in distress. Here they were held in
durance vile till the sheriff and his posse came and took
possession, and binding them, with ten others, they were
carried before a justice, who fined them heavily for the
misdemeanor.
As soon as quiet was restored, Bishop Asbury occupied




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.              253
the pulpit. After singing and prayer, he rose and said he
would give the rowdies some advice. "You must remember that all our brothers in the Church are not yet sanctitied, and I advise you to let them alone; for if you get
them angry and the devil should get in them, they are the
strongest and hardest men to fight and conquer in the
world. I advise you, if you do not like them, to go home
and let them alone."
The work of the Lord commenced at this point, and
meetings were kept up without intermission till Tuesday
morning. Upward of one hundred were converted to
God and joined the Church. Many more gave in their
names, and they were handed over to the leaders, to be
presented to the next preacher who should come upon the
circuit. At the close of the camp meeting we left for conference, which was held in Chilicothe, October 17, 1812.
This year there was an increase in the membership of
the western conferences, of three thousand, three hundred
and sixty-two whites, and one hundred and eighty-one
colored-making a total of three thousand, five hundred
and forty-three. The number in the whole connection
amounted to ten thousand, seven hundred and ninety.
Twenty-three preachers were admitted on trial into the
traveling connection.,An incident occurred at this conference which I shall
never forget, and I think some of my brethren will bear
equally lively recollections. Bishop Asbury said to the
preachers, " Brethren, if any of you have any thing peculiar in your circumstances that should be known to the
Superintendent, in making your appointment, if you will
drop me a note, I will, as far as will be compatible with
the great interests of the Church, endeavor to accommo(late you." I had a great desire to go west, because I
had relatives which called me in that direction, and it
would be more pleasant to be with them; so I sat down




254            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
and addressed a very polite note to the Bishop, requesting
him to send me west.
My request, however, was not granted; for when the
appointments were read out, instead of hearing my name
announced in connection with some western appointment,
I was sent one hundred miles further east.  To this, however, I responded amen, and after the adjournment of
conference I said to the Bishop, "If that is the way you
answer prayers, I think you will get no more prayers from
me."  "Well," said he, smiling and stroking my head,
"'be a good son in the Gospel, James, and all things will
work together for good." I have found that those who
are the most in the habit of praying for appointments, are
those who are generally most disappointed; for if their
prayers were answered, it would be against the prayers of
whole Churches, who pray to be delivered from them.
At the General conference, which was held in May,
1 812, the old Western conference was divided into Ohio
and Tennessee, and parts of Kentucky belonged to each
conference. It was the last time that many hearts, which
were united as Davitl and Jonathan, were to meet in conference together, and great sorrow was felt at parting.
When the hour came we united in singing the hymn,
"Blest be the dear, uniting love,
Which will not let us part;
Our bodies may far off remove,
We still are one in heart."
Then taking the parting hand, we took a hearty, warm
farewell, inspired with hope that when the toils of life
were over, we should meet again in the communings of
that better world.
The name of my circuit was West Wheeling, in the
Ohio district. Jacob Young was appointed presiding elder
of the district.  St. Clairsville, the capital of Belmont
county, was the center and metropolis of my circuit. The




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               255
number of members returned was four hundred and sixty.
two; but this number was' ascertained on the principle of
guessing-a Yankee mode of computation that don't exactly suit western mathematics. The careless manner by
which the preacher in charge too frequently arrives at the
numbers in society, can not be too severely censured. My
custom, on the first round, was to get all the class-books,
and in the presence of the leaders take down all the names
in my memorandum, kept for that purpose, and when any
were removed, expelled, or had died, I would mark my
book accordingly. Thus, without recourse to the classbooks, at the end of the year, I could tell exactly the
numbers in society.
I removed my family to St. Clairsville. The society
here had many pious people in it, though some were in a
backslidden state. At one of my appointments there lived
a very pious sister, who had been raised a Roman Catbollc, but had been converted and lived in the enjoyment of
religion. She could not read a word, and had never seen
a Bible, as she had been taught it was an extremely dangerous book, and not to be read or touched. This sincere,
simple-hearted woman went to confession, and, as she
supposed, received the pardon of her sins by priestly absolution. She was happy in the belief that her father
confessor would open to her the gates of heaven; that as
he had the keys of St. Peter he could open or shut hb,.ven
at his pleasure; that whosoever he blessed -was blessed,
and whosoever he cursed was cursed. This poor woman
said she feared the priest more than she did God. Being
called at one time to mourn the loss of a beloved child,
her grief became extreme, and she found no rest day or
night. She imagined that God had taken her child as a
punishment for her wickedness.  She prayed with great
earnestness to the Virgin Mary and other saints.  She
also subjected herself to the severest penance, and said




256            AIUTOBIOGRAP FI  Or
over hbr ave Marias.  Her dreadful state of mind con
tinued, so that she neither ate nor slept, and fears were
entertained that she would become deranged.  At length
she concluded to pray to God to help her. For the purpose of praying to God she ascended the side of a mountain, and there, far from human vision, she fell on her
knees and poured out her heart in prayer to God. Her
language was, "0. God, have pity on a wretch like me!"
She repeated this petition for some time, and was about to
abandon herself to despair, when she saw, as she described
it, a dark and heavy cloud, which had rested upon her,
pass away, and she was surrounded with a glorious light.
All her distress left her, and the anguish of her heart was
turned into joy.  She thought she must die, so much was
she burdened with excessive happiness. After a while
she returned home and continued happy all day and all
night. The next day, while sitting at her wheel spinning,
Satan tempted her and darkness again surrounded her.
In this state of mind she fled again to God in prayer, and
was happily delivered from the snare of the devil.
Hearing of a Methodist meeting in the neighborhood,
she went, and there, for the first time, did she hear the
Gospel preached and salvation by faith in Jesus proclaimed.  Then she beheld the glory of God as it shone
in the face of Jesus Christ. Soon after this she joined
the Church, and ever after remained one of the most consistent and happy Christians. She was poor, in regard to
things of this world, but rich in faith and spiritual enjoyments. Once while my colleague and self were talking in
her house of the goodness of God and the comforts we
enjoyed, she let the stick, with which she was stirring the
mush, fall into the fire, and startled us with a loud shout
of glory. I was alarmed at this sudden outcry, and sup
posed sister E. was scalded, but in a moment I understood
all perfectly plain. She continued praising God till near




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                 257
midnighllt. She would often shout on her horse, letting
go the reins and clapping her hands. Once she attended
a popular meeting of another denomination. The rain
obliged all persons present to crowd into one room.  The
preacher was eloquent in discoursing about Jesus and his
love, in dying for our guilty race. As his heart warmed
with the theme, sister E. caught the fire, and being unable
to-suppress her emotions, she shouted aloud the praises
of God.  This greatly alarmed the preacher and disturbed
the whc!e congregation, and the old lady was carried out.
As it was still raining she was put.into an empty corncrib, where she walked about shouting and singing"No changes of season or place,
Would make any change in my mind;
For prisons would palaces prove,
If Jesus would dwell with me there."
In this neighborhood the- Lord commenced a great and
glorious work, and many souls were converted. There
were also revivals at G. B.'s, on M'Mahon's creek, at A.
Scott's, on Wheeling creek, on Pipe creek, and in Dilley's
Bottom. At all these places there were many manifest
evidences of the power of grace in renewing the heart.
About this time there flourished in this section of the
country a halcyon preacher by the name of Abel Sargent.
He formerly resided near Morgantown, Virginia, and was
a Universalist preacher; but receiving a new revelation,
in which he said he held converse with angels, and he was
made the medium of communication to the world.  His
doctrines did not differ very materially from the Universalist creed, except that he taught the annihilation of the
wicked. The regenerated soul, he taught, was a part of
God; and when the body died there was a resorption of
the soul into God.  He did not believe in any devil, in a
place of future torment, nor in a judgment. He went
about the country with his twelve apostles, mostly women,
17




258            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
preaching and pretending to raise the dead.  One of his
followers, in the bounds of my circuit, declared that he
could fast as long as the Savior did-forty days and forty
nights. This, he said, he was enabled to do, because
the divinity was in him. To prove it he commenced
the work of fasting, and persisted in abstaining from food
for sixteen days, when he died.  The halcyon declared
that he would resuscitate himself after three days, and
they kept his body till decomposition had progressed so
far that they were compelled to bury it out of their sight.
This, like all other species of fanaticism and superstition,
had its day and produced some excitement on the circuit,
but nothing that resulted very disastrously to the cause
of religion.
This year the war spirit unfortunately entered into
many professors of religion, and as soon as they caught it
they began to lose their religion. Many that once walked
with us to the house of God and took delight in the services of religion, now marched off in rank and file to become disciplined in the arts of war. Several, who had
been saved from drunkenness by the Church, returned to
their evil habits as "the dog returns to his vomit, and the
sow, that was washed, to her wallowing in the mire."
Wars and rumors of wars are peculiarly fatal to the mild
and peaceful spirit of the Gospel; and when the Prince
of peace shall obtain his dominions, "swords shall be
beaten into plowshares and spears into pruning-hooks, and
nations shall learn war no more."
The local preachers on this circuit were Vachel Hall,
James Starr, AInos Sparks, David M'Masters, and Archibald Ml'Elroy.  One of these, brother M'Masters, went
off in the Radical secession, though he was a good man.
Like many others, he was led astray by designing men.
lie died soon after joining the Radical Church, and has,
no doubt, entered into rest. Brother M'Elroy entered the




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                259
traveling connection.  He was an Irishman, and came tc
this country at an early day.  He was one of the most
zealous and devoted in all the itinerant ranks.  He seemed
to have had a peculiar aversion to Calvinism, and scarcely
ever failed, in his discourses, to present some of its most
odious features to the attention of his audience. He
would denounce the heaviest terrors of the law upon the
doomed head of the sinner, and was regarded, in his day,
as one of Sinai's thunderers.  He was a'faithful and efficient Methodist preacher, and died in his work.
One of the best class-leaders I ever saw, lived on this
circuit. His name was M'Coy. Classes too frequentlylead the leader; not so, however, with M'Coy's; he always led'and governed his class.  M'Coy was converted
in Ireland, under the labors of Wesley, when but a boy.
His master, to whom he was apprenticed, being a Roman
Catholic, would lock him out at night while absent at
class meeting.  Often has he slept all night in the cowhouse.'I never met with a man in all my life who was so
deeply experienced in the things of God, and he had the
only methodized class that ever I became acquainted with.
He would. take no frivolous excuse for neglect of class,
and there were no gaddings about on Sabbath among his'
members; no going to soirees of fashion and pleasure.
He' allowed no family to live without prayer. No one whe
neglected the communion, or indulged in the use of intox'
icating drinks, could remain in his class without reformation. All the rules of Discipline were carried out in his
class. No steward or preacher was allowed to say a word
to his class on the subject of money. All the steward
had to do was to let him know how much his class had tc
pay, and at the quarterly meeting it was promptly handed
over to the board. None in the class were allowed to say,
"I am too poor to pay any thing."  On one occasion, as 1
las passing along, I overtook Jane Craig, a poor old Irish




260-          AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
woman, who was on her way, to town to sell some sewing
thread. I said to her, "Aunt Jane, where are you going
on foot?"
"GoinIg to sell this thread to get quarterage."
"But you are too poor and too old to pay quarterage."
"Bless God for poverty. I have none of the world,
and there is nothing to take my mind off of Jesus, my
blessed Savior. I should feel very unhappy and ungrateful if I did not give something to help on the cause of my
blessed Master. My good leader tells us that without
faith it is impossible to be saved, and this faith must be
active and fruitful; for a dead faith is worth nothing
either for time or eternity, and in the day of judgment
our faith will be proven by its fruits. The happiest day I
have, is when I am trying tb earn something for the support of the Gospel." She would not receive her quarterage as a gift from another, but resolved that it should be
the product of her own hands. The conduct of this woman ought to shame many members of the Church. She
did not belong to that class of Methodists who thank God
that their religion costs them nothing.
This was'a year of great spiritual benefit to me. Our
quarterly meetings were occasions of great power, and
multitudes of all denominations, sects, and conditions
would come out to preaching. Once at a meeting of this
description, when the house was crowded and the power
of God was divinely manifested, I was called on by brother
Young to exhort. Being much blessed, I suppose I raised
my voice to its highest pitch and struck the book-board
with my hand. At this a young lawyer-Charles Hammond-who had a considerable reputation for talents, became alarmed, and, urging his way through the crowd to
the door, fled for his life. On my next round the sexton
found in the pulpit a very neatly-turned maul with a slip
Qf paver wrapped around the handle, which was directed




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                       261
to me,  After meeting it was presented, and on the paper
were the following verses:
"Thus saith the Ldrd, the preacher now
Must warn the people all,
And if you can not make them hear,
I'd have you use this maul.
Your hand, dear sir, is far too soft
To batter on the wood;
Just take this maul, it is but small,
And thunder on the board.
Li'ft up your voice and loudly call
On sinners all around,
And if you can not make them hear,
Take up this maul and pound."




262          kAUTOBIO GRA. PY OF
CHAPTER XV.
ITINERANT LIFE CONTINUED.
Ar the conference held at Steubenville, September 1,
1813, Barnesville and West Wheeling circuits were united.
I had for my colleague the aged and venerable minister,
Michael Ellis. It was a full six weeks' circuit; and, as
father Ellis lived in the bounds of the West Wheeling part
of the circuit, I removed my family to Barnesville.  This
end of the circuit was new; and that part of it which lay
between Barnesville and Marietta was a wilderness without roads, settled principally by hunters. I took this part
of the work, as I considered it too'hard for my colleague.
During the year we had revivals in many places, and
were much encouraged to labor in the vineyard of the
Lord. The local brethren were at their posts, filling the
Sabbath appointments, and assisting at our revivals like
men of God baptized for the work.
An incident occurred on one of my excursions in the
wilderness part of my circuit, which I will relate. I was
traveling along a solitary path through the woods, and all
at once I came upon an old man of the most grotesque
appearance, trudging along at a slow rate, half bent, with
an ax and two broomsticks on his shoulder. As I approached him I said, "Well, grandfather, how do you
do?"
He was a German, and replied, "It ish wall."
"You have too much of a load to carry."
"Yes, but I can go not often."
"Where do you live, old friend?"




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.              -263
"Shust dare," pointing to a small cabin on the hill-side.
"You seem to be poor, as well as old."
"0 yes, in dis vorld I has noting; but in de oder vorld
L has a kingdom."
"Do you knew any thing about that kingdom?"
"0 yes."
"Do you love God?"
"Yes, mid all my heart, and God love me."
"How long a time have you been loving God?"
"Dis fifty years."
"Do you belong to any Church?"
"O yes, I bese a Metodist."
"Where did you join the Methodists?"
"I jine de Metodist in Maryland, under dat grate man
of Got, Strawbridge, on Pipe creek, and my vife too;
and Got has been my father and my friend ever since;
and I bless Got I will soon get home to see him in de himels.".
By this time I felt my heart burn within me; and, having arrived at the Bethel, I stopped, and went in. His
wife, who was also quite aged, was sitting by her wheel,
spinning tow. I told them I was a Methodist preacher,
and was more than happy to meet with them. There was
but one little chair in the cabin; but, though destitute of
furniture, every thing I saw looked neat and clean. I
inquired into their history, and learned that they once
owned property in Maryland; but they sold it, and came
out west, for the purpose of benefiting their son. They
bought a tract of land containing fifty acres, and improved it so they could live comfortably. In the mean
time their son grew up, and became restless and uneasy;
wished to leave home, and make his fortune elsewhere.
To quiet him the old people made him a title to the farm,
and took his obligations to maintain them as long as they
lived, In a short time, however, the unnatural son solda




264            AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
the land, took the money, and left for the webt; since
which time they have never heard of him. Being obliged
to leave their home, they went into the woods, built their
little cabin cG  Congress land, and obtained a livelihood'y making brooms and baskets. They had ai old Bible,
well-worn, and a hymn-book, which bore similar marks of
use. Here, in this cabin alone, they held their meetings;
class meeting on the Sabbath, and prayer meetings morning, noon, and night.  They had rich enjoyment.  They
talked about religion, as if they had been the inhabitants
of the heavenly Canaan. We sang and prayed together;
and such a meeting I had not enjoyed for years. I realized, in my very heart, that I would not have exchanged
their lonely little cabin for the most sumptuous palace on
earth, without God. It was distressing to look at their
apparel, and yet their faces were radiant in the midst of
their rags. I took down my saddle-bags, and gave the
old servant of God all the wardrobe I had with me, and
then, with many blessings, bade these happy saints adieu.
When I arrived home I reported the case to the brethren
and sisters of Barnesville, and they went to work, and
made up two horse-loads of clothing, meal, and meat,
and dispatched it to them.  0 what a lesson I learned
from  this Simeon and Anna!'their humility, patience,
entire and happy resignation to the providence of Godl
Thus they lived happy in God while they lived; and:
after a few years, they went rejoicing home to heaven.
On this circuit there lived a man by the name of D.,
whc had led the daring and adventurous life of a backwoods hunter without God, and consequently without,
hope in the world. He was drafted, in the war of 1812,
to go on a tour of duty at a block-house on one of our
western stations. This was a frontier station, and Indians
were all around them. One morning he arose, and, with
some of his companions in arms, he cautiously opened the




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                265
door, and they went down to a spring for the purpose of
performing their morning ablutions. Just as they arrived
at the spring they were fired upon by Indians, and two
of their number fell dead in their tracks. D. wheeled
instantly, and saw the Indians rushing from their covert
to intercept the path, and cut off retreat to the blockhouse. At the same time he saw two Indians draw up
their guns to shoot him. His only hope of life consisted
in running to the block-house, and instantly he sped with
the most desperate fleetness.  He reached the door, and
threw himself his whole length into it, to escape, if possible, the balls of. the enemy. Just as he fell, they fired,
and one of the balls passed through his leg.  Those in
the house caught him, and pulled him in, shutting the
door with much difficulty before the Indians arrived.
The battle now began; but, as there were four or five Indians to one white man, it was necessary to use great precaution.  They were well protected, as the house was
closely notched down, and well chincked. Several Indians were shot through the port-holes.  During the batfie D. lay wounded and bleeding near the wall. While
there he saw an Indian trying to push in the chineking
with the muzzle of his gun, so that he might shoot him;
but he placed his well foot against it, and kept it in its
Ilace. At that moment he saw how near he was to eternity, and then rushed upon him, like a mountain torrent,
his sins. While overwhelmed with a sense of his guilt
he saw also the goodness of God, in preserving his life in
the terrible events of that day. While he lay there he
vowed to God, if he would spare him he would renounce
all his sins, and lead a religious life the remainder of his
days. This promise he kept faithfully; for, after returning home, he joined the Church, obtained religion, and
ever afterward lived a consistent and useful life.
During this year there was a great revival of religion




,266          AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
on Duck creek. The people were poor, but contented
and happy, and enjoyed religion in all its simplicity and
power. Men in the winter came to meeting with their
moccasins and hunting-shirts, and women with their linsey-woolsey gowns, and bareheaded; and in summer,
barefooted. 0 how, they could pray,- and sing, and shout!
Early in the spring my colleague resolved on visiting
this part of the work, and having obtained a guide I
yielded to his wishes. In the morning we took breakfast
together, and I said to him, "Father Ellis, you had better
eat hearty, for you are going into a wilderness, where your
fare will be backwoods indeed, perhaps coons or opossums." "My dear brother," said he, "I can not eat
dogs or cats." The first house he arrived at was brother
Dye's, who had, that morning, killed a bear and two cubs.
As they were lying in the yard, father Ellis walked
around them, and dryly said, " They have the very foot of
a negro, and the tusks of a dog."  The old gentleman
had a gracious meeting with the brethren in the wilderness; and when he returned, he said they were the happiest and most simple-hearted people he had ever seen.
The year was one of great prosperity. Multitudes
were taken into the Church. Notwithstanding the prosperity on some of the circuits, there was only an increase,
in the district, of about two hundred; and in the whole
connection the increase was only thirty-six. The previous
year there had been a decrease of three thousand. This
great decrease in the membership was attributed to the
war. This excitement, all-pervading and demoralizing as
it was, operated disastrously to religion. Nor could it be
otherwise. A spirit so directly averse to the spirit of the
Gospel-which breathes peace on earth, and good-will to
man-if allowed to take possession of the Church, would
eat out all godliness.
A camp meeting was held this year, near to the place




REV. JAMES B1. FINLEY.    2.           7
heore Fairview now stands. At this meeting many were
converted.  On Sabbath afternoon it seemed as if the
windows of heaven were opened, and there was a revival
of pentecostal times. The shouts of saints and the cries
of sinners were mingled together, and went up to heaven
Here we had our trials and conflicts, as well as our tri'.
umphs. A  son of Belial and a few of his associates,
instigated by Satan, went into the pulpit, and commenced
abusing the preachers and members.  They were invited
down by one of the preachers, whereupon the leader drew
a pistol, and aimed it at him, and was- about firing, when
a friend, who was standing close by, suddenly threw open
the pan of the lock, and then, seizing the bully by the
shirt-collar, threw him  on his back, and dragged him,
reluctantly, into the preacher's tent, where he was disarmed, and a magistrate sent for. The party, seeing how
it fared with their leader, were suddenly taken with a
leaving; and when the prisoner called upon his faithless
allies, to go his security, they were all missing.  At this
he commenced weeping, and praying, and pleading. He
said, if it were himself only that was to suffer, he would
not care.  "But that it should break my mother's heart,
is more than I can stand.  Pity my poor mother, for
God's sake," said he. On condition that he would never
disturb a congregation again, he was released, and soon
he left the cncampment; and there were no more disturbances after that. Father Ellis and myself closed our'
labors on this circuit, with the consoling reflection that we
had not labored in vain; but that souls had been co'nverted, and the borders of Zion enlarged.. We were also
comforted in the assurance that the Church had grown in
glace and spiritual knowledge. We wound up our circuit.abors, made the necessary preparation, and started for
conference, which was to be held in Cincinnati, September
8, 1814,




268           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
This year I was appointed to Cross Creek circuit, and
had for my colleague the Rev. Archibald M'Elroy, oi
whom I have already spoken. Our circuit included the
towns of Steubenville, Cadiz, Mount Pleasant, Smithfield.
and several other villages, embracing all the country in
Jefferson, part of Harrison, and Belmont counties. It
took four full weeks to travel round it, with an appointment for every day and two for the Sabbath. The membership was large, amounting to nearly one thousand.
We had to preach thirty-two times every round, and meet
fifty classes. Thus, it will be seen that we had no time
for "visits, modes, and forms," to attend parties of pleasure, loaf around stores, offices, and shops, read newspapers and chat about farms, horses, hogs, and cattle, or the
politics and the various speculations of the day. My colleague was a stout-built, hale, and hearty Irishman, of
fine native talents, a zealous and fearless, outspoken Christian minister. He was frank in his manners, blunt and
honest in all his demeanor.  He called things by theii
proper names, was shrewd in argument, and always ready
to make war on the enemy in every shape. We met soon
after conference and arranged our work, resolving to enter
upon it, trusting in Him who hath said, "Lo, I am with
you always, even unto the end of the world." At our
first quarterly meeting, at which brother Young was present, we had a refreshing time from the presence of the
Lord. The meeting closed on Monday, and all went home
under the injunctions of a solemn covenant to live and
labor for the salvation of souls. I met all the classes,
made new papers, changed negligent and unprofitable
leaders, appointed prayer meetings, waked up the local
preachers and exhorters, and started every thing to work.
As might be expected, the hit birds began to flutter, and
there was a considerable of religious gossip among a cert
tain class. Some scolded, others cried tyranny, oppres



REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                269
sion, etc. Brother M'Elroy joined heartily with me, and'
all the pious members were cheered at the prospect of a
return to discipline again.  The next round the leaders'
meetings were held and the delinquents reported, and visited, and by our next quarterly meeting things put on
quite an encouraging aspect. Revivals had broken out in
many places, and the work of the Lord went on gloriously. This waked up opposition, and the heavy but
sluggish artillery of Calvinism was brought to bear upon
our ranks.  I gave my colleague charge of this wing of
the opposition. I was present, on one occasion, when one
of the Calvinist ministers attacked my colleague.  He was
an Irishman, and hence, in that respect, Greek met Greek.
The point of debate was in regard to the secret and revealed will of God. M'Elroy contended that if God had,
a secret will, from the very necessity of the case we must
be ignorant of it; for if we knew it, it would be no longer
secret.  He also denied that the Bible taught such a doc —
trine.  The Calvinist replied, "Your sophistry must give
way to matter of fact." The matter of fact to which he
referred, was the case of Abraham.  God had commanded him to offer up his son Isaac, and the revealed
will of God was evidently that Isaac should be slain as a
sacrifice, but the secret will of God was of an entirely opposite character. "Now," said the Calvinist, with an air
of pride and conscious triumph over his antagonist, "your
system of error falls to the ground." The Methodist rejoined, "I am sorry, for your sake, though not for the
truth's sake, that your matter of fact turns out to be matter of fiction. Had you paid half as much attention to
the Bible as you have to the Assembly's Catechism, you
would not have assumed that to be a matter of fact,
which has in reality no existence. You say that only a
oart of the Divine procedure, in the case of Abraham.
was revealed, and that related to the peremptory comrn



270            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
mand to slay his son.. But what are the facts?  God comr.
manded Abraham to slay his son. While in the act of,
obeying, another command is given entirely reversing the
former. Neither of these purposes of God were secret,
inasmuch as they were both revealed."
Many interesting incidents are connected with the life,
of this eccentric minister.
The new meeting-house in Steubenville had been left
in an unfinished condition, and it was put under contract
and soon completed.  At the dedication, a gentleman of
the town, with eleven others, presented a very handsome:
copy of the Bible for the use of the pulpit, with a request
that a sermon should be preached from Revelation'xxii,
21. " Their request was complied with, and it pleased God
to pour outhis Spirit in a wonderful manner. Eleven' out
df the twelve who gave the Bible, were converted to God
and joined the Church.  This work spread till the whole
town was under its influence. I' procured a local brother
to fill my appointments, and remained-with my colleague
for some time.  Our meetings continued day and night.
One morning, before breakfast, I was sent for to- pray with;
eight families, many of whom I found lying on the floor
crying for mercy. The influence of this revival extended
to other Churches, and many were brought from' darkness
to light, and from the bondage of Satan to the liberty ofl
the children of God.  One hundred and thirty joined on
probation. The revival flame spread, and at many other
appointments on the circuit there were manifest displays
of Divine' power in awakening and conversion.  It was
not long till all the waste- places of Zion were restored,
and the Church became the garden of the Lord.
In the town of Smithfield there was no society of Meth.
odists.  It was settled principally by Quakers; and'though
there were'many good people in it, yet there were many
very Wicked. My colleague and I met here every two




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               27]
weeks, and we resolved on preaching here. A gentleman; v the name of S. gave us the use of his house as a place
of worship, and it was not long till he who opened his
door for the worship of God, received the blessing of God
in his heart.  The Lord revived his work here, and in a
short time we had a society of seventy members; and so
large were our congregations, that the place was much
too small for us. I divided the circuit between my colleague and self for the purpose of reading the Rules,
which we did once a quarter. While brother M'Elroy.
was reading the Rules at a certain place, called Irish
2Ridg'e, where his congregation was mostly composed of
his own countrymen, he took occasion to contrast their
condition with what it was in the mother country. Said
he, "You Irishmen remind me much of the Israelites
when they were in Egypt. They had taskmasters, and
were obliged to make their tale of brick, finding their own
straw. When you were in Ireland your taskmasters took
all your. living and only left you a few potatoes to eat, and
these ye often salted with your tears; but God has opened
up a way for you across the briny deep, and brought you
and your wives and children into a land which flows with
milk and honey, and ye have good homes, while your dinners now every day are better than your best wedding
dinners in the old country. Ye have grown fat, and your
eyes stick out like Jeshurun's. When ye cross the fence
with your sickles to reap down the golden harvests, instead
of reaping the sheaf and bringing it-as a wave-offering to
the Lord, you must have your bottle of whisky, and cry
out,'Come, boys, we'll all jist take a dram. Sure an' it'll
hurt no body,' and in an hour or two ye are all half-seas
over."; This lecture so offended many of his countrymen
that they protested against being so abused, and manifested a great deal of feeling against their preacher,
so much so that they were ill at ease under the reproof




272           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
Their "Irish " had got up so high that M'Elroy wrote me
the following' letter:
"DEAR BROTHER,-WOe is me, for my mother brought
forth a man of strife. My hand is against every man,
and every man's hand is against me. I have pulled the
1,ottom out of the hornet's nest at L.'s meeting-house, and
if you don't come and cooper it in no one knows where
they will swarm to."
After all our increase this year, we returned but sixtyseven more than the preceding year. This, however, was
to be accounted for by the numbers that were laid aside
for breach of rules, and others who fell away under the
influence of the mania that prevailed in regard to banks
and speculations in real estate. The Church was, however, in a healthy state, and prepared to take care of
those who had been taken into her fold'and placed under
her watch-care. To me it was a pleasant and profitable
year. One of the young men who joined the Church became a traveling preacher. Two others were called, I
have no doubt, to the same work, but they heeded it not;
turned away and went back-became poor, dissipated,
trifling men. I. C. Hunter was faithful to his calling. He
gave himself up wholly to the work of the ministry. In
youthful zeal he preached the Gospel of Christ, and like a
valiant soldier, he died with his harness on. Brother
Hunter was one of the most honest, fearless, and independent men I ever knew. He was a sincere and unfailing friend, prompt in the discharge of every duty, and
ready to fill any post assigned him by the Church. He
was'for many years presiding elder, and sustained that
relation to the Church when attacked with his last sickness. In the town of Gallipolis, where he resided, he was
called to pass through the dark valley, but he was calm
collected, -and fearless. Trusting alone in the merits c,
Jesus, he entered the valley and was lost to earth, Itn




REV. JAMES P. FINLEY.
found in heaven. His body lies in a quiet, peaceful rural
cemetery, near the town of Burlington, on the Ohio river.
There, undisturbed, may his ashes rest. till the archangel
shall wake them into that new and beautiful form which
the saints shall have at the resurrection!
Many who resided on this circuit have long since finished their course and entered into the rest that remaineth
for the people of God. The society in Steubenville was
characterized for zeal and consistency, but, unfortunately,
strong as the fold was it was broken down, and many of
the influential members went off with the Radicals. This
unhappy state of things was brought about by the very
shepherds who were placed over the fold. They rent the
Church and had not the courage and consistency to go
with the straying. There was, however, a remnant left,
and in the course of several years the Church regained,
in a good degree, what she had lost.
I must not omit to mention-chronicling, as I am endeavoring to do, the times-the almost universal spirit of
speculation which prevailed, and to which I have already
alluded. A money mania seemed to have seized, like an
epidemic, the entire people. Every body went to banking.
Within the bounds of our circuit there were no less than
nine banking establishments, seven of them  within the
county of Jefferson, and one of them said to have been
kept in a lady's chest. All these were engaged in issuing
paper, while every incorporated town, village, or company
went to work to issuing notes.  But it did not stop here.
Tavern-keepers, merchants, butchers, bakers-every body
seemed to have become bankers. This fever not only
raged in this vicinity, but throughout the entire west. It
proved fatal, in a greater or less degree, wherever it
spread. Before it subsided, another mania sprung up, to
which we have also alluded; namely, the laying out of
aew towns. So great was the excitement, that towns
18




274            A UTOBIOGRAPHY OF
were, laid out aj almost every cross road within a mile of
each other, and on the tops of barren hills.  It was ne
matter where they were located, plots were made, advertisements were stuck up, lots were sold, and magnificent
squares left for public buildings. After this rage subsided, it is not to be wondered at that society was left in a
deplorable condition. The imaginary riches of the speculator flew away like the morning cloud, and from a state
of high excitement the community relapsed into a state of
stagnation.  A perfect paralysis seemed to have come
upon every department of business, and all- who had entered into these speculations were entirely bankrupt. Discontent and dissatisfaction prevailed every-where.
About three weeks previous to the conference, I left the
circuit to accompany Bishop M'Kendree and assist him
with his pack-horse.  On the pack-horse he carried the
most of his movables, such as clothes, books, manuscripts,
minutes of conferences, etc. It would look rather strange
to see a Methodist bishop, in this country, now on horseback, though I heard of one, the other day, on-a mule in
California.  Our first stopping-place was Cambridge,
where the Bishop preached at twelve o'clock. From
thence we traveled on to Zanesville the next day, and held
~meeting again.  Thus we continued on our course, passing through Somerset, Lancaster, Chilicothe, Hillsboro,
Xenia, and Springfield, holding mee'tings at all the places
but Somerset. Here I left the Bishop and rode on to Mechanicsburg, where the brethren were holding a camp
meeting-the first held in this section of country.  This
entire region was overrun with New Lights, and every
thing that could be persuaded to go under the water was
immersed.  This was all the rage, and the highest ambidion of the preachers of that faith, was to get the people
dipped. The novelty of a camp meeting called out immense multitudes, and among them  the New  LightsL




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               275
Those who know any thing about this people, especially
their preachers, know that, like the doctor who was deatl.
on fits, they are great on argument. There were two
things specially against which they leveled their artillery,
and these were, first, Church government, and, secondly,
creeds, etc. The reader must not suppose, from this, that
they were a Church without any government or belief
whatever.  Far from it; their great central doctrine was
immersion, which included regeneration.  This one idea
seemed to have swallowed up all other forms of faith and
worship.
Bishop Asbury came to this camp meeting on Saturday,
in company with his traveling companion, the Rev. J. W.
Bond. No sooner was it known that he had arrived, than
there was a general move toward him. All seemed to be
anxious to. see a bishop, and they pressed around him so
closely that it was difficult to get him into the preachers'
tent. After he was housed, the people crowded round the
door by hundreds. He remarked to me, on witnessing
the curiosity of the people, "You might as well have an
elephant in your camp as to have me."  It seemed to
annoy him, to have them gazing at him in such numbers;
and to relieve him I requested them to retire from the
tent, and the Bishop would preach for them, perhaps, the
next day, when they all could have an opportunity of seeing and hearing him. Brother Bond, his traveling companion, desiring to visit his friends at Urbana, I took
charge of the Bishop, and made him as comfortable as
circumstances would allow.  On Sabbath  the Bishop
preached, and the vast concourse had an opportunity of
judging for themselves in regard to the ability of the
Methodist prelate.
That day the Gospel was preached in demonstration of
the spirit and power of God. During the meeting manx
were converted and joined the Church. At the close oi




276           AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
the meeting I started, with the Bishop, for Springfield,
where we arrived Tuesday afternoon. We stopped with
a Methodist family. As we passed through the parlors
we saw the daughter and some other young ladies dressed
very gayly. The daughter was' playing on the piano, and
as we moved through the room we doubtless elicited from
those fashionable young ladies some remarks about the
rusticity of.our appearance; and the wonder was doubtless excited, where on earth could these old country codgers have come from? The Bishop took his seat, and presently in came the father and mother of the young lady.
They spoke to the Bishop, and then followed the grandfather and grandmother. When the old lady took the
Bishop by the hand he held it, and looking her in the face,
while the tear dropped from his eye, he said, "I was looking to see if I could trace in the lineaments of your face,
the likeness of your sainted mother. She belonged to the
first generation of Methodists. She lived a holy life and
died a most happy and triumphant death. You," said
the Bishop, "and your husband belong to the second generation of Methodists. Your son and his wife are the
third, and that young girl, your granddaughter, represents
the fourth. She has learned to dress and play on the
piano, and is versed in all the arts of fashionable life, and
I presume, at this rate of progress, thefifth generation of
Methodists will be sent to dancing-school."  This was a
solemn reproof, and it had a powerful effect upon the
grandparents. The first Methodists were a peculiar people in their personal appearance and manners, andcould
be distinguished from the world at a single glance. Theirself-denial led them to the abandonment of all the lusts of
the flesh. They were simple-hearted, single-eyed, humb]e, and devoted followers of the Savior. They loved
God devotedly and one another with pure hearts fervently;
and though scoffed at by the world, hated and persecuted




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               277
by the devil, they witnessed a good profession of godliness
and faith.
The conference was held in Lebanon, and Bishops Asbury and M'Kendree were both present.   he session was
one characterized by great harmony amo<..,he preachers.
It lasted seven days, at the expiration of which we all
received our appointments. I was sent back to the same
circuit, with Joseph Powell for my colleague. Brother
David Young was appointed presiding elder of the district; i at as he had business requiring his attentior in
e-'. Tennessee, I was drafted to make the first round of,.ppomtments, and my place was supplied in ray absence.
It was with some considerable difficulty I consented to
attempt the task, yet with great depression of mind I entered upon the work on the eighth of November. I was
made to realize my trust in God and the necessity of
greater spiritual   ver. I prayed with earnestness for
the baptism of the 1oly Spirit, and in reconsecrating my
heart to God'.elt the power divine.  0 the ineffable
richness and extent of divine love! May my soul ever
bask in its infinite ocean! At the first quarterly meeting,
during the holy communion, the Spirit was poured out in
rich effusion.
Here I met with brothers Waterman and Ruark, and on
Monday the'hirteenth, rode in company with the former
to Hubbert, and stopped at brother Parrish's, where I
spent the evening in reading and prayer.
Tuesday 14th. I rode through Hartford to brother J.
Leech's, on Shenango.  This was a lonesome road, and I
was much tempted and tried in mind. I prayed all the
day to be delivered, and did find some relief.
Wednesday 15th. I rode through Meadville, on Frenchl
creek, to Gravel run. Here I put up at brother Ford's.
Living, in this county, is very hard, there being'but little
(or man or beast. This day I am not so tempted. I




278            AIITOBIOGRAPHr  OF
slept vwell and arose early to offer myself to God without
reserve.
Thursday 16lth.  I rode to brother King's on the flats
of French creek, threb miles from Waterford.  Here I was
comforted and felt a blessed hope of heaven.
Friday 17th.  I rode through Waterford to R. K,'shimself and wife were formerly Methodists.  I exhorted
them to seek the Lord and set forward again to run the
race set before them.  I prayed with them, and went on to
Erie.  This town occupies a handsome site, and has a good
harbor for vessels.  Here I met with brother L. Lane, the
preacher on this circuit, and tried to preach, at night, to a
number of hardened sinners.
Saturday 18th.  Set forward for North-east, and stopped
at brother Russel's. This family loves the Lord.
Sunday 19th.  I tried to preach to a large congregation
from Acts iii, 19.  The Lord helped me, and we had a
gracious season. I trust the.fruits of this meeting will be
seen in the gates of heaven, when all time has an end.
-flonday 20th.  Rode through Canadeway, now Fredonia, to brother Baldwin's. In family prayer the Lord vis,
ited us in mercy, and our prospects of a better world were
greatly increased.
Tuesday 21st. Rode sixteen miles further down the
Lake to brother Webb's.  This is a new country; every
thing scarce and dear, and hardly to be had at all-corn
two dollars per bushel, wheat three dollars per bushel,
flour sixteen dollars per barrel, and pickled pork twentyfive cents per pound.  These new settlers must learn to
live by faith, and many of them have, and are a people
zealous of good works.  Here, according to the best caiculation, I am  about two hundred and fifty miles from
home, and yet here is the same throne of grace, the sama
Savior, and Christians of the same spirit and heaven'v
Callina.




E-EV. JAMES B. rINLEY.              279
Wednesday 22d. This day I preached to an attentive,
weeping congregation, after which I baptized six by immersion, and it was a solemn time, and afterward visited
a sick brother. He was happy in God his Savior, and
was resigned to his will, waiting to depart and be with
Christ, which is far better. This evening rode five mile.
to a neighborhood on Silver creek, where the Lord is graciously reviving his work, and many of these new settlers
have been converted to God. It has been the observation
of my life, that new countries and new settlements are the
most favorable to revivals of religion.  Many who have
lived under the preaching of the Gospel in old settlements,
and might have lived and died there without religion,
when thrown into a new country, from their old associates
and other hinderances, turn to God and live.
ZAThursday 23d. This morning I felt much revived and
encouraged. My communion with God was sweet; yes,
sweeter than honey or the honey-comb. I spent part of
the forenoon in visiting the young converts, and in praying with them. At twelve o'clock I tried to preach to a
large, attentive, and weeping congregation, and, I trust,
not in vain, and baptized six by immersion, and several
joined the Church. It is in accordance with the religious
erducation of these people that no one must kneel in prayer,
at least till he has determined to be religious; then he
must get religion, and then be baptized, and that by immersion, and then join the Church, and then take up his
or her cross in prayer and conversational class or lovefeast meetings. In the afternoon we rode twelve miles to
brother Baldwin's, and had a good night's rest.
Friday 24th. Started for Chatauque Lake in company
with brother Lane, and after traveling several miles
through a swampy country, we arrived at a brother South.
worth's, where quarterly meeting is to commence to.morrow.




280           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
Saturday 25th.  This day it began to rain, and looked
as though a storm was on hand. I sought, before. the
mercy seat, for a suitable preparation of heart for the duties which lay before me, and i felt the Lord precious to
my soul.  At twelve o'clock I tried to preach from Matt.
viii, 11, 12, and it was a very open time with me; the
Lord helped me. There was a great move in the congregation; saints rejoiced, and sinners cried aloud for mercy.
After preaching we held our quarterly meeting conference. There were two appeals, and we got them adjusted
satisfactorily. At five brother Smith preached, and I exhorted after him, and then we held a prayer meeting; and
the shouts of new-born souls were heard before it closed.
Sunday 26th. At nine o'clock our sacrament commenced, and we had a good time. But Satan was enraged at our love-feast: one of the old men's sons, who
was kept out, became enraged, and tried to break open
the door, and then went to a window and brolie it, and
hurl an old man much.  God's judgments will overtake
him before long. I was told he will curse his mother and
father to their faces. Notwithstanding this interruption,
the meeting was one of interest and power. At twelve I
commenced preaching from the first Psalm, and the:three
first verses I read for my text. During the time of my
preaching, in which I laid it down as heavy as I could on
the sinner, some one called me a liar. Satan was enraged
to the very highest pitch; his kingdom was shaking, and
I felt that God, and heaven, and angels, were with us, and
on our side, and the devil's kingdom trembled. Such was
the constancy of the rain, that few could leave, and we
had a house-full.  All night was spent in exhortations,
singing, and prayer. It was a night never to be forto'tten.
Monday 27th. I rode to North-east, and preached to
a dull, hardened set of sinners, from Prov. xx, 4.




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                2E
Tuesday 28th. Rode to brother Stone's, and put up tc
rest till to-morrow. Sister Stone is an old lady, and a
well-tried Christian. She embraced religion in early life;
and became a member of the Methodist Episcopal Church
when it was a reproach and by-word; but she knew in
whom she had believed, and walked with God in newness
of life. She is now a mother in our Israel, and we Methodist preachers find in her a mother, and her house a
welcome home. For years after this I made her house
my home, when I could reach it. She sent for'Squire
Reese and his wife to spend the afternoon, and we had a
comfortable time.  We mingled our prayers together,
resolved to live for God, and strive for heaven.
Wednesday 29th.  This day I feel at peace with God,
and all men. At two o'clock I tried to preach to the people from Heb. ii, 3, and some were awakened to see their
condition, and to pray. May the work of life penetrate
the inmost hearts, and bring forth fruits unto holiness,
that the end may be eternal life i
2'hursday 30th.  This morning my soul is staid on
God. I rode to Erie, where I saw the vessels which Commodore Perry took from the enemy when he conquered
the British navy on Lake Erie. They were literally torn
to pieces. The Niagara is the largest, and seems to have
received the hottest fire. They all lay out in the basin,
sunk, a mile-from the town. From Eric I rode to brother
Randall's, on Conneaut, where our next quarterly meetin.c'
is to be held-thirty-two miles up the Lake.
Friday 31st. At twelve o'clock our meeting conm,lenced.  I tried to expound John xii, 21, 22. Brother
Ira Eddy exhorted. In the quarterly conference we had
a good time, stirring each other up to faith and good
works. In the evening brother Stantliff preached, and
orother Westlake exhorted. This was a time of great
power. On the Sabbath I tried to hold forth from John




282           Ax UjkOBIOGRAPHY OF
vi, 50. At.a, close, some fell, others shouted, and some
were in a iage  At night the Lord's people were filled
with his heavenly presence in an astonishing manner; and
while some were shouting and. praising God in the house,
others were in the yard giving glory to God in the highest.
Monday I rode forty miles to brother Skene's, and next
day to brother J. Leach's, and preached in old Salem
meeting-lhouse; thence to Beaver-town, where we had
a good quarterly meeting; thence home to Steubenville,
where I found my family all well, and glad that my service as presiding elder was at an end.
In a short time I took my circuit, to my great comfort
At my own quarterly meeting we had a time of grace
and mercy. Our Smithfield class had grown so that there
was no place to hold us. I then resolved to try to put up
a meeting-house; but ground must first be obtained, and
I went to the proprietor and asked to buy a place suitable
for a meeting-house. He then promised he would let me
have a place suitable, and would select it by the time I
returned. When I returned there was no lot found, and
he could not let us have any. I then made application tG
a man who made no pretensions to religion, and he told
me I- should have a lot; and he took me to the lot on
which the Church was built, and gave it me for forty
dollars. I set to work, and, scarce as money was, in one
round I collected the amount and got the deed. Then
the money must be raised to build. Five hundred dollars were necessary. This time it was hard work. But it
must be done; and to begging we went. Those who could
not give money gave trade. I got from the sisters more
than the half of it, in linens, yarn, thread, socks, stockings, flax, and feathers. So I traded and persevered, till,
bv the help of God, I made it up; and we got a house,
and dedicated it to the service of God. We had the
following preaching-plac~e,; namely, Ste'ibenvil!e — here




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.              283
we spent the whole Sabbath —Hale's meeting-house, Ed
ward Tavlor's, Scarlott's, Davis's, Moore's, Long's meeting-house, Baker's, Kent's, Evans's, Hinde's, Cadiz, Dickelson's, Roberts's, Holmes's meeting-house, Cramlett'b,
Smithfield, Hopewell meeting-house, Scott's, Dean's,
Permar's, and another I do not recollect.
This year we had to train those who had joined the
year before; and this we labored to do by requiring a
strict attention to class, prayer meeting,. family, and private prayer, and especially the last two. We admitted
of no exemption.  Many excuses were made about family
rPayer; but the rules required it, and the family required
it, and Christianity required it. Some were borne with
for a season; but if they repented not they were excluded
for neglect of duty. The leaders were all instructed to
watch over the observance of the Sabbath, and report any
who should desecrate the day by doing ordinary work,
buying, selling, or running about when they ought to. be
at Church. The leaders pretty generally did their duty,
so that those who were not in earnest seeking the Lord,
the place became too strict for them, and they retired;
and, notwithstanding all the difficulties we had to contend
with, we were able to return forty net increase.  We
closed our year's labor with a camp meeting on Lost run.
This was a season of the gathering together of the people,
and they came, niany of them, in the spirit of the work.
It commenced with singing and prayer meeting, which
continued almost day and night, in some part of the encampment, till it closed. How many were converted none
could tell. About one hundred gave in their names as
probationers, but were not returned on the Minutes.
Thus closed my second year on this circuit. I was much
attached to the people both in and out of the Church.
I started to conference, at Louisville, in Kentucky, in
company with Bishop M'Kendree. At Chilicothe we fell




284            AD rOBIOGRABU~Y  OF
in with Bishop George, crossed the Ohio at Maysvi'e, and
at Paris we parted.  Bishop M'Kendree went through
Georgetown and Bishop George through Lexington, to
meet the Shelbyville camp meeting the Saturday and Sabbath before conference. At this place was collected nearly
one-half the conference.  Such a crowd and so mucd
feasting was going on that little good was done. We
retired in the afternoon to a farm-house, and staid all
night. Next day we started for the seat of the confe:ence, where we arrived. The session of the conftrcnce
was opened on the 3d of September, 1816.
This closes my diary for that time, and I give it a, tL,
reader just as it was entered in my journal.




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.              285
CHAPTER XVI.
ITINERANT LIFE CONTINUED.
A.T the conference all the Bishops were presentMI'Kendree, Roberts, and George. Bishop Asburv haa
ceased his labors, and followed his beloved Coke to
heaven. It was an interesting session to both preachers
and people. One day a messenger came to me and mformed me that Bishop M'Kendree wished to see me at
his room. I went accordingly, and when I arrived he
said, "I am going to put you in charge of the Ohio district." I told him candidly I thought he might make a
much better selection; and, besides, I was entirely too
young in the ministry for such a post.  "Well," said he,
"you must go and learn. You are not too young to
learn." Accordingly, when the appointments were read
out, my name stood in connection with the Ohio district.
I felt exceedingly depressed, and groaned under the load;
but I resolved, God being my helper, to enter the field
and do the best I possibly could under the circumstances.
My district embraced eight circuits, extending from the
mouth of Captina, on the Ohio river, to the lake at the
mouth of Huron, including the state of Ohio, all the
Western Reserve, all western Pennsylvania, from the
Ohio, and Alleghanies, and western New York, as far
down as Silver creek, below Fredonia. On this field of
ialzor were ten traveling preachers and a membership of
four thousand and fifty. My first round of quarterly
m(etings commenced October 19th and 20th, at Leesourg, on Tuscarawas circuit. The next was on Beavce




AUTOBI O GRAPHY OF
circuwt, at the Falls of Big Beaver, on the 26th and 27th
Giantl River and Mahoning, at Hartford, Western Reserve, on November 2d and 3d; Eiie circuit, at Oil creek,
on the Alleghany river, in western Pennsylvania, November 9th and 10th; Chatauque circuit, at Broken Straw,
November 16th and- 17th; Shenango circuit, at Jackman's
meeting-house, four miles bilow Pittsburg, November
23d and 24th; Steubenville circuit, at Long's meetinghouse, November 30th and December 1st; West Wheeling, December 7th and 8th,'at -Andrew Scott's,; near
Wheeling. The most of these quarterly meetings were
seasons of great interest, and attended with Divine manifestations. It was customary, in consequence of the newness of the country and the sparseness of the population,
to hold prayer meetings at different places, on Saturday
night of tie quarterly meeting.  These meetings Were
attended with great good, and when they would all meet
in love-feast in the morning, and speak of the blessings
received at different places where the meetings were held,
it would kindle the spirit of piety; and I have no doubt
if this practice had been continued it would have resulted
in vastly more good to the Church than the preaching of
Saturday night. A custom prevailed at these meetings
which was strange to me. No one was called on to pray.
The leader would say, "If any of you feel like taking up
the cross and delivering your mind, do so." Sometimes
three or four would commence at once. This was altogether upon the voluntary principle. The practice was
carried into the public meetings, and if any one male or
female felt inspired, no matter who was preaching, they
would rise and deliver their impressions. While I was
preaching one Sabbath, at a quarterly meeting, a sister
rose and commenced delivering her mind at the top of
her voice. This sudden and unexpected outburst startled
me, nid I did nct know what to make of it. I told  her




EEV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               287
however, to hold up, and if, after I was done my sermon,
she wished to exhort, she should have the opportunity, as
I thought one at a time was quite enough.  She took her
seat, and many were much tried because I stopped he.
After this I was not again interrupted by a female prophet.
I thought the practice a wrong one, and contrary to that
decency and order which should characterize the worship-,f God, and quoted the language of St. Paul in regard to
women teaching in the Church, and expressed a hope that
the Spirit would not move any more to speak on such occasions. The people had another practice which I greatly
disliked; namely, that of keeping open doors at love-feasts
and class meetings.  I took strong ground against this
practice, and found that among the New England Methodists there was much opposition, as they desired to have
all their neighbors, good and bad, enjoy all the advantages connected with their select meetings. I labored to
show the impropriety of such a course. We were exhorted not to give that which was holy to dogs, or to cast
our pearls before swine.
But these were not the only difficulties we had to contend with. In. almost all the towns, Calvinism and Universalism had intrenched themselves. A Calvinist minister was stationed in almost every town, and the Presbyterian influence was so great that Methodism  could
scarcely live. What few Methodists there were, could
not hope to rise above the occupation in the Church of
hewing wood and drawing water. When they were few
and despised, Presbyterian dignity could not stoop to a
recognition of them; but when the number increased, and']e fervent Gospel appeals of the "circuit rider" waked
up the town, then the gentleman in black would call and
inquire into the "religious interest" that seemed to be
abroad in the town, and speak of the much greater attenlion which was shown to preaching in his congregation.




288           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  Or
and suggest the holding of a un3on meet:ng; and such a
union! Save the mark! Presbyterian union, formed for
the sole purpose of using the Methodists in advancing
Presbyterianism! I plainly told my brethren I had nothing against the Presbyterians; I loved them, but I loved
Methodism more, and, as we had a shop of our own, we
would not work journey-work any longer. I exhorted
them to hold their own prayer meetings and class meetings, and attend to their duty, and God would revive his
work in his own way. "In your union meetings," said
I,'"you can not pray aloud; and if one of you should
get happy, you must quench the Spirit; or if you take r
Methodist shout, they will carry you out as a disturber
of. the peace; besides, you dare not even to say amen
above a whisper."
This short, homely address, brought down many bitter
things on my head, and waked up a spirit of controversy.
I carried the Confession of Faith with me, and whenever
the doctrine of the horrible decree was denied, I would
produce the old Saybrook platform in my congregations,
and read for the satisfaction of the hearers. "My course
in this regard gave great offense. Some of my opponents
seemed to affect great astonishment that I should have'
the effrontery to expose the tenets of Calvin. Such conduct was insufferable; but I was not Servetus, and so
passed unhurt amid the howlings of the enemy. This
course soon waked up the popular mind, and inquiries and
investigations were made, which resulted most favorably
to the Methodist cause. I exhorted the preachers to scat
ter the doctrinal tracts; Wesley on Predestination, and
Fletcher's Checks; and, in the mean time, many were
awakened and converted.
The second round of quarterly meetings commenced in
January, and closed on the first and second of March
In this round I suffered much with a cold, which I ha(




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                 289
contracted from  exposure to the chilling blasts of the
northern lakes. Our meetings were all attended with the
presence and power of God, and the preachers were all
in the spirit of revivals. At North-east we had a most
glorious time, both among saints and sinners. The snow
was about two feet deep, and continued for a long time.
affording great facilities for sleighing, which were improved. Vast numbers came to church, and many were
converted. At this place I visited the grave of the Rev.
Thomas Branch, a native of Preston, Connecticut.  He
entered the traveling connection in 1800, in the New York
conference.  He labored in the vineyard of his Lord with
great acceptability and usefulness to the people. His
health failing him, and thinking that a change of climate
would improve it, he asked for and obtained a transfer to
ou1r conference, and was appointed, with brother David
Young, to Marietta circuit, in 1812. He progressed in
his travels as far as North-east, in Pennsylvania, where
he was obliged, from increasing disability, to desist from
his labors, and seek rest. But his work was done, and
his rest was ~) be the rest of heaven. My feelings were
of a peculiarly-solemn cast, as I stood by that lone grave
of the stranger minister, in a strange land.  His meek
and quiet spirit won for him the friendship of all. Indeed, it may be said,
"None knew him but to love him,
None named him but to praise."
And though he died away from home, and his eyes were
closed by stranger hands, they were, nevertheless, the
hands of affection.
The last round of quarterly meetings for the year were
camp meetings, with few exceptions., A quarterly meeting was held at Long's, which was called the great quarterly meeting, and is so remembered to this day.  My
brother, John P. Finley, was present at this meeting. On
19




290   -        &UTOBIOGRAPIY OF
the Sabbath he took for his text but one word, and that
word was -Mercy. God was truly with us in mercy. The
whole assembly was melted down under the genial influences of the spirit of the text. It was my lot to follow
and I took for my text Justice.  As I progressed, the convicting power of God fell on the people, and before I was
done more than twenty stout-hearted sinners threw themselves upon the altar, and cried for mercy. Among the
number was a rough, stalwart old sea captain. It seemed
as though all the dark spirits of the deep had seized him.
[ never saw a man in so much distress and agony of mind
in all my life before. The conflict, however, though terrible and awful, was not of long duration. In a short
time mercy came and touched his heart, and opened his
eyes, and unloosed his tongue, and he spoke the language.of heaven. Before the meeting ended more than fifty
were converted.
Our quarterly camp meeting commenced at Canadeway,
or what is now called Fredonia, July 24, and lasted four
days. Brothers James M'Mahon and Smith accompanied
me to labor in word and doctrine. At this meeting we
expected from the wicked much opposition, as they coliected together a band the previous year, and drove the
people away.  The brethren this year fenced in the
ground with hemlock brush, leaving two gate-ways, one
of ingress and egress, and the other leading to the spring.
One of the rules for the government of the encampment
was, that at the sound of the trumpet, at nine o'clock at
night, all were to retire to their tents, and those who had
no place to lodge were required to leave the ground. At
dark the rabble gathered, and one of their number was
designated as their captain by a piece of white paper
attached to his hat, and a white club in his hand. The
company made but little disturbance till preaching was
over. Seeing that there were indications of hostility on




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                291
their part, I blew the trumpet, and requested all to go to
their tents, while those who had none were to leave the
ground.
The captain of this banditti refused to go, and sum.
moned his men to go to his aid. I ordered the constable
to take the captain a prisoner; but he swore he would
knock down the first man that touched him. He had
hardly finished the declaration till I seized him and threw
him on the ground, and, disarming him, gave him over
into the custody of the officer.  His company, seeing the
fate of their captain, fled in dismay from the ground. In
a conversation I had with the prisoner I learned what his
plans were, and how sadly he was disappointed in not
being able to carry them  out. He pleaded so hard for
mercy, and promised so faithfully never to engage in such
a wicked work again, that I let him go. We kept up a
watch all night, fearing they might return; but they did
not disturb us.  Some were in favor of an attack; but
one of the company reported that, as I was a Kentuckian,
I carried a long dirk in my waistcoat, and that I would as
soon stab a man as not.
The hour for preaching had arrived, and, as there were
rumors coming in from various quarters, that the rowdies
were gathering, I preached on the subject of civil and
religious liberty.  Of course this led me to speak of our
Pilgrim forefathers, and the dangers and sufferings endured
by them in crossing a wintery deep to plant the standard
of equal rights on this desert soil; and that they might
"Leave unstained what here they foundFreedom to worship God "they pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their fame,
I remarked, if there were any in whom flowed the blood
of the patriot sires of'76 present that day, who would
protect us in the exercise of our religious rights and privleges, to come over on our side, and defend us from the




292           ATJTOBIOGRAPR Y OF
rabble  Just at that moment Judge Cushing, tho was
sitting in the congregation, rose, and addressing the audience, said, "I have fought for this liberty, and I will
maintain it with my life; and I give due notice, as a servant of my country, that I will enforce the laws of the
state of New York to the utmost against any one who
shall disturb this people in their'worship."  From this
on, the meeting was the most orderly one I had attended:
The Sabbath morn broke upon the earth in all its sacred
stillness. All nature seemed to rest calmly in the light
and beauty of that Sabbath morn. At an early hour the
trumpet summoned us to the concert of prayer. Brother
M'Mahon commenced the morning services, and preached
at eight o'clock in demonstration of the Spirit and power.
I followed at eleven o'clock, and brother Smith at five.
At every coming together of the people the work of the
Lord progressed with power, and during the night, in the
tents, many were born into the kingdom of God. This
meeting exerted a good influence upon the whole surrounding country. So clear and powerful were the conversions, followed up, as they were, by consistent religious lives, that the mouths of gainsayers were stopped.
A singular case was brought before the quarterly meeting conference at Nelson, which I will relate. A local
preacher had been suspended on charges preferred against
him by a Mr. M'Intosh. The parties having presented
themselves, I called for the papers in the case. The accuser refused to hand them over, and contended that he
had the only right to read them. I told him if he did not
hand over the papers to the secretary of the conference J
would dismiss the case.  After some consultation, he
finally gave them, with much reluctance, to the secretary.
Tllhe testimony seemed quite voluminous, the papers num.
bering from one to twenty.  On examining these papers J
found that they were all -written with one hand, whicl




RVt.    JAMS v. FJs.  LEY,        293
excited rmy suspicion that all was not right.  I asked the
preacher if he was prepared for his trial.  He replied thal
he had received no notice of the taking of the testimony
contained in those depositions, and that it was not taken
aither in the presence of himself or the preacher in
charge. My suspicions of a villainous attempt to ruin
this brother, were confirmed by this development. I noticed that some had made their marks, being unable to
write, and I called one of them in. To this Mr. M'Intosh
strongly objected. I then turned to the witness and said,
"Will you please to state what you know of this matter?"   "Why, sir," said he, somewhat surprised, "1
know nothing about it."  I then proceeded to read what
had been signed by him  as his testimony.  He was still
more surprised, and positively denied ever having said
such things, and that what was there written was entirely
contrary to what Mr. M'Intosh had read to him. At this
the accuser demanded the papers as his property, and on
my iefusing, he began to swear that he would have them,
and threatened to sue me. I told him his papers were a
piece of forgery, and if he did not keep perfectly quiet, I
would have him prosecuted for forgery.  I had the papers
filed with the conference papers. The decision of the committee was reversed in the case of the persecuted brother,
who felt like a man taken out of a dreadful pit.  Thus
ended this case. It was a foul, dark plot to ruin the reputation of a minister; but God overruled it, and the guilty
were brought to light.
The next quarterly camp meeting was held at Gravel
run, and commenced the first day of August. These
meetings were attended with great good; for whatevei
may be said now about the propriety of camp meetings,
when churches are scattered all over the country, and
whole conferences are included in what was then embraced
in a district, it is very-certain that they proved of essen



294           AT7O01BoOGRAPtY  OF
tial service to the Church. Many were converted tha
otherwise would not have heard the Gospel; besides,
backsliders were reclaimed, and believers were quickened
and built up in Christian faith.
An English officer, who had heard of camp meetings.
but never saw one, came down from Erie to gratify his
curiosity. He kept a journal of all the meetings, noting
down every thing in the order in which it occurred. Being disposed to allegorize, he compared the Church to an
army making an attack on the army of the world. The
army of the Church was under the command of Immanvdel, and that of the world under Diabolus. Every meeting was regarded as an engagement with the enemy, and
the. number of converts were reported as the loss in Diabolus's army. Those who joined the Church were represented as recruits. The great battle was fought on Sabbath night. It was a close and hot engagement, lasting
all night. The army of Diabolus was attacked in front,
flank, and rear, and literally cut to pieces, so that, in military parlance, there was a total defeat, a perfect rout of
horse, foot, and dragoons. Immanuel's troops kept the
ground, without the loss of a single officer or private soldier, and triumphant victory perched on the banner of the
cross. The officer said he would carry the report which
he had written to England, and show his countrymen how
Americans conducted a holy war.
Our next encampment was on Beaver circuit, at Zuver's
camp-ground, and commenced the eighth of August. At
this meeting we expected to be interrupted by the rabble,
as great threats had been made by them in reference to
the camp meeting. A young militia captain, however,
in company with eleven young men, came to our assistance, and offered their services to keep order. As none
of them were professors of religion, I felt somewhat sus-,
plcious of them, and thought it might perhaps be a mere




EEUV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               295
ruse to get us into difficulty.  After I had examined into
the character and standing of the young men, 1 fully acquiesced in their proposition; and they did their duty
most faithfully, securing the most perfect order to the
whole encampment.
At this meeting we were assisted by that veteran pioneer
preacher, Dr. Shadrach Bostwick, who had for fourteen
years labored in the itinerant field. He entered the traveling connection in 1791, and traveled successively the following circuits: Milford, Talbott, Bethel, Flanders, Elizabethtown, Cambridge, Saratoga, and New London.  He
then traveled as presiding elder four years on Pittsfield
district, In 1803 he was sent as a missionary to the
Western Reserve, and formed a circuit called Deerfield.
During his second year on this circuit, he married and
located. He studied medicine, and after he had mastered
the science entered upon the practice.  During all the
time he continued to preach, as circumstances would admit. He was a most amiable man, and had a lovely family, beloved and respected by all. Such was his piety,
and uniform consistency of character, that he won the
affection and esteem of all. His letters breathe an ardent
spirit of piety. I have several, which I shall keep as precious mementoes of affection. As David and Jonathan, we
were one in life, and I trust in death we shall not be
divided.
The young men who volunteered their services to protect us from the rabble, were nearly all converted before
the meeting closed.
The camp meeting for Steubenville circuit commenced
on the twentieth of August. This was the largest camp
meeting we had this year. On Sabbath there was such
an immense crowd of people, that little could be done, except preach. Dr. Doddridge, an Episcopal preacher, bu'
w" had once been a Methodist traveling preacher, was at




296           AiBuATOBIOGoRAPHFt OF
the meeting, and preached on Sabbath. His speech be
trayed him, for it was very evident to any practiced observer that he had been in Methodist harness.  He
preached with life and power, and he evidently felt quite
at home. It is somewhat remarkable that many of our
preachers have entered the Protestant Episcopal Church.
I have known quite a number take the frock and bands.
Some who were neither very learned or eloquent, nor particularly pious, have entered the "succession,'" and bettered their condition vastly, so far as mere temporalities
are concerned; and, instead of traveling circuits, or filling
some of the more humble stations in the Methodist Church,
have mounted at once to the zenith, and fill the pulpits of
metropolitan churches. Verily, this is an age of progress.
I knew an English local preacher, a watch-maker, who,
after failing to get into the Ohio conference, joined "the
Church," and at once went up to the highest pulpit in our
land. Their popularity in the Episcopal Church, however, is readily accounted for. The fervor and freshness
of the Methodist element will attract attention, and win
admiration, though buried in the folds of the gown, or
the forms of the Church.
Great allowances are to be made in behalf of many of
our brethren, before whom loom up drearily in the distance want and poverty; "for," as Gen. Harrison said,
in describing a traveling preacher, "their condition is just
the same as though they had taken the vow of poverty."
There are a few exceptions, however, to this rule. Some
Methodist preachers I have known, who, notwithstanding,heir scanty allowance, have managed, maneuvered, and
speculated with such admirable, productive skill as to
amass property. But I hesitate not to say, that the great
mass of them live poor, die poor, and leave their families
to the charities of the Church. Some I know who have
spent a fort-tne for the privilege of traveling circuits, st a




ftv. JAMES P. FiNLEt.                297
salary of twenty-five dollars a year, while their wives
lived in log-cabins, and rocked their children in sugaruoughs.
The meeting was one of great interest.  The preachers
seemed to have been recommissioned to preach the Gospel.
The next camp meeting was at West Wheeling.  This
was the last of the round, and finished the labors of the
year. We were favored with the presence of the venerable Bishop M'Kendree, who preached with more power
than I had ever heard him preach before. The work of
the Lord was wonderfully revived, and meetings were
kept up night and day, embracing all the exercises of
singing, exhortation, and prayer.  Vast numbers were
awakened and converted.  All were at work. Men, women, and even children spoke with new tongues and sung
new songs.
At the conference held in Zanesville, September 3,
1817, I was reappointed to the Ohio district, with the
following brethren: Beaver circuit, Jacob Hooper and
Samuel Baker; Erie circuit, Ira Eddy; Grandview and
Mahoning, D. D. Davidson and Ezra Booth; Chatauque,
Curtis Goddard; Steubenville, Samuel Hamilton, William
Knox, and Calvin Ruter; Tuscarawas, James M'Mahon;
Huron, John C. Brooke.
In the true spirit of Gospel ministers, these brethren
went to their respective fields of labor.  Great were the
toils and hardships they were called to endure. The
winter was extremely severe, the cold being almost beyond endurance; yet the Lord crowned the labors and
sufferings of his ministers with success.  The country
was but sparsely settled; the rides were long and roads
rough; the fare hard and provisions scarce; but in the
midst of all God was with them. The Huron circuit was
the newest, and, consequently, the most difficult field,.
When Mr. Brooke went on to the circuit there were




298           AUT0oBtIOGRAPft1   of
twenty-five preaching-places, but he was enabled to in
crease the number, so that it was necessary to divide the
circuit; and I sent the Rev. Alfred Brunson, then a local
preacher, to the fire-lands, or Huron port, for the purpose
of forming a new  circuit.  The labors of a circuit
preacher then bore but little resemblance to the labors
of the circuit preacher now. To preach once every day,
and lead class after having traveled from ten to thirty
miles, and two or three times on Sabbath, and leading
class, with the privilege of being home three days out of
thirty, was somewhat different fi'om having no week-day
appointments, and being able to reach them from home
every Sabbath morning, and return again at night a good
part of the time. And we rejoice that the labors have
decreased, and our churches have increased with such
rapidity as to require such a division of labor. Ministers
now have more time for study and pastoral work, and a
man who, in view of all these facilities, proves himself a
drone, had better leave the work of the Lord to more
faithful hands.
On the land of Dr. Clark, near the portage, was held,
this year, the first camp meeting that was ever known in
this part of the country. There was quite a large collectionsof people. The brethren in attendance were M'Mahon, Davidson, Booth, and Brooke. The word preached
was attended with power to the hearts of the hearers
There were many places on this frontier circuit where
persons lived who had never heard a sermon, and, probably, but for the camp meeting, never would have heard
one, but would have lived and died as destitute as the
heathen of interior Africa. Mr. Howe, in his History of
Ohio, says, "The first sermon preached in Medina township was by an Episcopal clergyman;" but it was a fact
that Mr. Brooke had preached there the year before, and
had a regular oreaching-place. This account reminds me




of a statement made by a verdant young missionary from
Princeton. or Yale, some years since, who, in describing
the moral desolation that reigned in the "far west"Ohio and Indiana-stated that there were, in a certain
county, only two efficient ministers of the Gospel in a
population of ten thousand; that is, there were two Presbyterian preachers, and they were the only ones that deserved the name, while there were a half dozen Methodist
preachers and several of other denominations. Some denominations we wot of would claim every thing. It has
been asserted that the Sabbath schools organized in this
country were by Presbyterians and Episcopalians, when
it is a historical fact that, years before their own date,
Bishop Asbury and his coadjutors had established them.
So in regard to temperance. Old' Dr. Beecher, "the
great western missionary," as he is called in the east,
having penetrated the wilderness as far as Cincinnati, becomes the apostle of temperance, when Methodist preachers had pledged whole congregations to total abstinence
throughout the length and breadth of the land.  But
"transeat," and we will persevere, notwithstanding, in
trying to do good. Whether it were we or they, it matters little, so the work is done, and our "efficiency" will
be best judged by posterity.
An incident occurred illustrative of a certain class of
preachers of that day. At a quarterly meeting held in
Major Gaylord's.barn a sharp-featured man came, on Saturday, and took his seat. I was advised that he was an
orthodox clergyman. I tried to preach",a free grace sermon on Revelation xxii, 17. After I had finished the discourse I invited him to come forward and conclude the.meeting. Instead of doing so, he rose up in his place
and said, "'Let us pray."  After congratulating the Lord
on his greatness and the power of his righteous decrees,
which never could be altered, he began, in the plenitude




800           AU'OBIOGtRAVItY, OF
of his benevolence, to pray for the poor, ignorant, misled
people. and their instructors, informing the Lord that they
were doing more harm than infidelity itself and hindering
the progress of the pure Gospel. When he was done, I
asked him, in the presence of all the people, who those
ignorant, deluded people and their instructors were to
whom he alluded in his prayer. He hesitated. "Did
you," said I, "mean the Methodists, and their doctrines?"
To all this he answered nothing.  "Then," said I, "come
out to-morrow, and I will show up the gross and irreconcilable inconsistencies and absurdities of unconditional
election and reprobation."  When the time arrived, there
was a great crowd. I took the Saybrook platform, and
read the creed, and brought it to the test of the Bible.
The whole audience was greatly excited, and when I
closed, the people gathered in groups every-where and entered into controversy, which continued till the next meeting hour arrived. I then preached the true doctrine, that
Jesus, by the grace of God, had tasted death for every
man, and that all might be saved. This was the beginning of a glorious revival; seventy-five professed to find
peace in believing, and the joys of religion. In those days
the Calvinists believed that they were doing God service
in attacking Methodist preachers, and they would have
driven them from the country, if they could have done it.
Frequently I have been attacked by two or three at a
time. I could invariably silence them by asking a few
questions.
The Lord was pleased to give great success to the
labors of the preachers on the Ohio district, this year, by
the awakening and conversion of many precious souls.
On Mahoning circuit two hundred were added to the
Churcn.  The work colnmenced at a camp meeting, held
In Deerfield in July, 1818. During the meeting there
were no perceptible evidences of revival, t1ouglh all thne




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                301
meetings were solemn, and the word was preached in demonstration of the Spirit and power; but shortly after the
meeting closed, the bread which had been cast upon the
waters began to show itself; or, in other words, the seed
which was sown sprang up and produced a speedy and
abundant harvest. In the course of three months the society increased fronm sixteen to upward of one hundred.
Among the converted were some of the principal men of
the town-Dr. J. Manary, who became a zealous minister of the Gospel, Judge Day, and many others that 1
might mention.
After the session of conference in Steubenville, I visited
this part of the work, and was astonished to find what
God had wrought in Deerfield and the neighboring towns.
The work spread like fire in a prairie, and at every meeting victory turned on Israel's side. I held a two days
meeting in brother Manary's barn, and the work was powerful and overwhelming. All opposition seemed to have
ceased, or was borne down by the tide of religious influence. The following May I attended quarterly meeting
in the same place, and there were at least five hundred
persons in the barn at love-feast. In this meeting the
saints lifted up their voices in praise to God, and the sighs
of penitence, mingled with the songs of joy, were grateful
to angelic ears.  Old Dr. Bostwick, of whom  I have
already made allusion, was present at the meeting, and
seemed as Moses on the summit of Pisgah.  He saw by
faith the land afar off, and with shoutings exclaimed, in
the language of the poet,
"'Tis grace that supports, or glory would crush me."
It was supposed that at least fifty souls were happily converted to God (luring this meeting.
On the fourth of June a camp meeting commenced at
Lexington, on Erie circuit. All came together in the
spirit, and the work commenced at the first meeting.




302           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
The Divine influence kindled and spread in every heart
On Sabbath many were awakened to a sense of their lost
condition, and were prompted to cry for mercy. The even
ing was set apart for a prayer meeting, and many came
forward to the mourner's bench, and were converted to
God by scores. Among the number was a native of
France.  This poor old soldier of Napoleon Bonaparte
had wandered out into the western wilderness, houseless
and homeless, without a knowledge of God. He had
stood in the thickest of the battle, breasted the hottest
fire, and heard the deafening, roar of the artillery without,
trembling; but when he came to hear the thunders of Sinai, his lip quivered, his knees trembled, and he fell in the
battle of the Lord. After sueing for mercy, and crying
for quarters all night, it pleased God, at the rising of the
sun, to pour upon him pardoning mercy. No sooner had
heaven come down into the heart of the old, worn, and
weary veteran, than he arose, and his whole face beamed
with joy. His shouts of praise, ascribing glory to King
Jesus, were truly remarkable. In broken English he tried
to tell the bystanders what God had done for his soul.
He told them he had eaten bread in three kingdoms, and
that morning he was eating bread in the fourth, even the
bread which comes down from heaven. "I fight,'" said
he, "under de Emperor Napoleon, but now me fight under de Emperor Jesus. Vive le Emperor Jesus!" The
conversion of this Frenchman was so clear and powerful,
that infidelity itself was abashed and confounded. Great
good was accomplished at this meeting.
On the tenth of June our camp meeting for Lake circuit, fourteen miles below Erie, commenced. A camp
meeting had never been held in these parts before, and
many were induced, out of mere curiosity, to attend the
meeting. The meeting commenced under favorable auspices, and many were awakened and converted. Sabbath,




EEV. JAMES 3B. FINLEY.              303
however,- was the great day of the feast.  When the
preacher addressed the vast congregation, from Rev. xx,
12 —"For the dead, small and great, shall stand before
God; and the books shall be opened; and another book,
which is the book of life; and the dead shall be judged
according to their works" —there was not one inattentive
soul on the ground. The whole congregation was melted
into tears, and deep groans, and cries for mercy were
heard, bursting forth from hearts convinced of sin and
judgment. Occasionally shouts of victory and triumph
were heard from the pious, who waited the happy change.
The evening was devoted to praying and laboring with
mourners. After the ring was formed, and we commenced
our address to the throne of grace, the Holy Spirit fell on
us, and multitudes within and without the ring fell under the shocks of Divine power. Many mariners from
the port of Erie were there, and some of them became
the subjects of awakening grace. I heard one say to the
sheriff, "Mr. B. is down, crying for mercy."  To this he
replied, "If the Methodists can make him a better man,
it is more than the commonwealth of Pennsylvania can
do, for he has been in nearly all the prisons of the state."
This called my attention to Mr. B., whom I found in great
distress, earnestly seeking the salvation of his soul. 1
gave him all the instruction I could, and soon the light of
heaven broke on him, and the Sun of righteousness arose
with healing in its beams. He was soundly converted,
and what fines and imprisonments could not accomplish,
the grace of God amply secured. He lived and died a
good man.
Of the multitudes slain on that evening, many wcin
made alive by the power of God.
From this camp meeting I passed to the Chatauque circuit, and commenced a camp meeting on Broken Straw, a
branch of the Alleghany, June the 18th. At the cora



304A           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
mencement of this meeting I was much discouraged, bru
the Lord was greater to me than all my fears; and nevey
did I have a more clear and satisfactory demonstration of
the fact that man's extremity is God's opportunity. Sabbath morning arrived, and as the sun was gilding the eastern sky, the trumpet called us to the concert of prayer.
While we were looking up to heaven for a blessing, God
graciously poured out his Spirit, and we realized the opening, of the gates of life.  Preparatory to preaching, I
walked out into the wilderness, or, rather, desert, for the
ground was covered with rocks, for the purpose of meditation. While reclining among the rocks and fern, which
grew in great abundance, I heard a sound which, to the
practiced ear, carries more terror perhaps than any other.
It was the rattle of death. The weather being exceedingly
warm, I had taken off my shoes and stockings, and my
feet being somewhat elevated, exposed my legs. Looking
in the direction of the alarm, I saw the glaring eyes and
forked tongue of the Americana horribilis, within a foot oi
two of me. It was coiled, and ready for a strike. The
great Creator has so formed this dreadful creature that it
can not strike without warning, and this doubtless saved
my life, as it has the life of thousands. Seeing my danger, I instantly sprang, and, with one bound, was far beyond the reach of its deadly fangs. After dispatching the
rattlesnake, I returned to the camp, thankful to God for
deliverance.
During the day the work of the Lord went on with
power, and many were saved by the regenerating grace
of God.  Monday morning we held a solemn communion,
and I think it was the most glorious season I ever beheld.
The most hardened sinners trembled and wept, and looked
on while the followers of Him who, in Gethsemane and on
Calvary, drank the bitter cup, were commemorating his
dying love.




REV, JAMES B. FINLEY.                305
I held three camp meetings this year before conference,
at which many were born into the kingdom, and made the
happy partakers of saving grace. All the preachers,
travelin'g and local, were at their posts, and labored with
zeal and fidelity. Ira Eddy was recommended as a suitable person to be received into the traveling connection,
snd he was received.
Some remarkable incidents occurred at this camp meeting, two of which I will relate.
Two men from different parts of the country, with theii
companies, came to the meeting with the avowed purpose
of disturbing the people of God in their worship. One of
these men was from the mouth of the Chatauque Lake, and
the other from the Alleghany river. The former, Capt.
W.x, brought with him  a supply of whisky. Both
these men came into the congregation and took their seats.
While the minister was preaching, the Holy Spirit attended
the word, and Capt. W. was smitten, like Elymas, the sorcerer, with blindness. An awful feeling came over him
as the horror of darkness surrounded him. He felt as if
God was about to call him to judgment; and although he
had been a Universalist, and had tried to believe and teach
others the delusive doctrines, yet he now felt himself
hanging over the fearful gulf, and nothing but life's brittle
thread kept him from dropping into perdition. He afterward remarked that his feelings were awful beyond description. After some time his sight returned, and he
arose and left the congregation.  Notwithstanding his
conviction, his stubborn heart was unwilling to yield, and
obstinately persisting in the rejection of mercy, he resolved
to seek oblivion in the cup.
But the most potential draughts of the maddening poison could not obliterate the traces of the Spirit's conviction from his heart. Soon, with redoubled force, the
pcwer of God again came down upon his sin-smittIn
20




306           AUTOBIOGRAPIIY  OF
soul. Unable to bear the deep and utter wretchedness
which drank up his spirits, he resolved, if God did not
kill him, to return home. While on his way home the
constraining Spirit of God operated so powerfully, that he
was forced to cry out in the bitterness of his soul for
mercy. He did not reach home till some time in the night;
and when he did arrive, his family were much alarmed.
No sooner did he enter the house than he fell upon his
knees, and continued his cries for mercy. The alarm was
so great that the whole neighborhood was soon collected
together. All night that man cried to God, and just as
the gray streaks of morning were breaking out from the
chambers of the east, the Lord in mercy spoke peace to
his soul. His family, and many of the neighbors, were
convicted, and the result was, the conversion of thirty in
that neighborhood, whom I subsequently organized into a
class, and made the Captain's house a preaching-place.
The other, W. N., was powerfully awakened on Sabbath, and being unable to withstand the powerful influence,
he fled for his home. Just before reaching the door of
his habitation, he was struck down by the power of God,
and was carried into the house by some of the family.
Soon the alarm spread, the neighbors were collected, and a
messenger was dispatched to the camp-ground, a distance
of nine miles. Two or three brethren went to the house,
and found him in a convulsed and speechless state. Soon
after their arrival, he seemed to awake to consciousness,
and exclaimed. with a loud voice, "0, hell! hell! hell!"
He then fell away into the same unconscious state. His
countenance bore all the deep-marked traces of despair.!
The brethren sang and prayed alternately, and those who
watched his features could discover the deep emotions of
his soul. At times a faint ray of light would kindle oin
his cheek, but soon it was gone, and like the lightning
from  a stormy cloud, which shocks the soul and disappears




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               307
m darkness, it only rendered his features more gloomy
It seemed as if despair would settle down sullenly upon
him. After hours of religious exercise, such as singing
and prayer, deep, agonizing prayer to God in behalf of
the struggling soul, all at once the dark cloud passed
away, his countenance was lighted up with an unearthly
radiance, and opening his eyes he exclaimed, " O, heaven!
heaven! heaven!" Then springing to his feet he shouted.
"Glory! glory! glory!"  Many were awakened and converted in this house.  He related the exercises of his
mind, during his unconscious state, afterward. He said
his mind was as bright and clear as ever it was; that he
distinctly saw hell and its miseries. He felt he was
doomed; but just as hope was leaving him, he saw the
Savior pleading for him. During this plea he said his
suspense was awful beyond expression; but when it was
ended, and mercy obtained, he saw heaven and glory open
upon him.
This year five brethren were admitted into the traveling
connection; namely, Samuel Adams, Samuel Brockunier,
Edward Taylor, James Smith, and Dennis Goddard. Conference was held at Steubenville, and, being the presiding
elder, it became my. duty, with the preachers of the circuit, to find places for the preachers during the session.
A request was handed to me by one of the stewards, from
a gentleman of wealth, that I would send him one of our
most talented ministers, and he would cheerfully keep him
during conference. The gentleman was a member of the
Episcopal Church, and had a worthy family, rather more
than ordinarily refined, and enjoying all such elegancies
of life as a country village would afford. Wishing to
gratify him, I sent Russel Bigelow to be his guest. SNow,
Russel was dressed in plain, homespun apparel, cut and
made with as much skill as home could furnish.  It was
rot exactly that a la mode which suits fashionable life




308           AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
Tbe young miss in the parlor cast many side-long glances
at the young preacher, who diffidently sat composing his
fimatures, and gazing upon the various objects around him.
leetling the steward, Mr. -    said, "I do not.think you
have treated me right in sending me such a common,
homespun-looking man."  At this the steward came to
me in great haste, saying Mr. -    was displeased.
"Well," said I, "his request has been complied with; he
asked for a talented man, and I sent him the most talented
man we have. Go and tell him that I wish him and his
family to go out to the Presbyterian church to-morrow
and hear him preach, and then if they are dissatisfied, I
will remove him."
Sabbath came.  The minister in homespun ascended
the desk; all eyes were upon him.  "How finely he
reads!" says -.  "What distinct articulation!" said
Mr. -     to his lady, as they sat in the pew. "Deal
me," said the daughter, "how beautifully our country
preacher reads poetry!" Then followed his prayer; and
when, with warm heart, he prayed for the families who
had with generous hospitality thrown open their houses
for the entertainment of God's servants, the silent tear
and half-suppressed sigh told of his power over the
heart.
He preached, and it was only as Russel Bigelow, of
sainted memory, could preach. Indeed, it is said he exceeded himself on that occasion.  The effect upon the
hearers was powerful, and upon none more so than his
worthy host and family, who took him home, and sent for
me to ask my pardon, remarking that he had never heard
such a sermon in all his life. He said to the steward on
Monday, "Why do you not keep your ministers better
clothed? You ought not to have a man of such talents
as Mr. Bigelow."  That day he ordered for him a fin,
suit. of clothes.




REV. JAMES B1. FINLEY               3(09
CHAPTER XVII.
BACKWOODS PREACHERS.
THE following graphic description of backwoods preachers, furnished me by a friend, serves got only to illustrate
the manner in which many preachers were manufactured
in early days, but will convey some idea of their character
and talents:
A Presbytery of the Cumberland Church had assembled in one of the valleys of the Cumberland range.  It
was a season of spiritual drought, and the Churches had
suffered from famine.  The members of the ecclesiastical
body then-collected in their semi-annual convocation were
mostly weather-beaten veterans-men who had braved
the earlier difficulties of the denomination to which they
were attached, when, about twenty years before, it had
seceded from the parent stock, to erect a banner in Zion
with a new device. They were in all about twenty persons, of whom a little more than half were preachers, the
rest ruling elders of congregations, who were there to
represent the local interests of the Church sessions.
This meeting was at a solemn crisis; for the. Church
was troubled, and the way before her was shrouded in
darkness. The love of many had waxed cold. Defections had occurred. Some who were once masters in
Israel had withdrawn, carrying off weighty influence and
leaving perplexities behind.
Others were threatening to dissolve the Church unless
radical changes were made in doctrines and  polity.
Alvming coldness prevailed in regard to candidates fo!




31S           AtJTOITOGR& PHY  OF
the ministry, none having offered for several sessions, and
those already in charge giving but little evidence of a
disposition to advance or an ability to labor in the work
which they had professed to love. Presbytery, however,
was unusually full, nearly every Church session being
represented, and not one of the ordained ministers absent.
The deliberations were opened, as usual, with prayer by
the moderator, an aged servant of God; and it was observed by those skilled in such things, that there was
great liberty given him when he entreated " that the God
of the harvest, in infinite mercy, would send more laborers into his harvest."
The usual formalities being ended, the opening sermon
was preached by the same person. His subject comprehended the character and importance of a call to the
Gospel ministry, and was treated with much earnestness.
The morning hour being ended, the body adjourned to
early candle-lighting. A considerable crowd had assembled upon this novel occasion, and it was under their hospitable roofs that the members found welcome reception.
Few, indeed, of the mountain cabins in the vicinity but
what received one or more upon that occasion, glad to be
permitted to talk of the Savior to those who rarely had
such opportunities of hearing the Gospel. Night brought
them all back again to the house of gathering. It was a
singularly wild and startling scene to one who has not
mixed in the different phases of frontier life. The buildnmg in which the meeting was held was a plain log-cabin,
tlhe dwelling of one of the elders, and only selected on
account of its being the largest in the vicinity. There
were the beds and the furniture of the whole family, nc
unprolific one at that, stowed around a room but twenty
feet square.
Upon those beds, and upon seats made by laying split
puncheons upon cross logs, was seated the company of




RFV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               311
men, women, and children, ministers, delegates, and all,
each glad to endure a process of compression for a few
hours, in the expectation of an intellectual reward.
It had been before arranged that this night's meeting
should be devoted to candidates for the ministry. A call
was, therefore, made "to all who had felt impressions to
preach to come forward and converse with Presbytery on
the subject."  Every one must undergo this peculiar
ordeal who inclines to enter the ministry; and there are
no traditions in the Church more entertaining than those
which tell how the ministers who are now burning and
shining lights made their first awkward and unpromising
exhibit before Presbytery.
The call being made by the presiding'officer, three persons arose to their feet.  Of the first and second it will
be unnecessary here to speak. The third had stood partly
concealed in a dark corner of the room, while the others
were relating the particulars which induced the Presbytery to accept them as probationers; but now he stepped
forward and faced the moderator. His appearance excited a universal start of surprise even among that unsojphisticated audience, accustomed to great peculiarities of
dress and rudeness of manner. Let the reader imagine.. person dressed in what is styled copperas cloth; that is.
a cloth home-spun, home-woven, home-cut, and homesewed, dyed in that bilious hue which is formed by copperas, alum, and walnut bark, and made into coat, vest,
and breeches.
To this add brogans of home-tanned, red leather, tied
with a leather thong, covering immense feet, made.-both
feet and brogans-for climbing hills, and you have the
portrait of a mountain boy; able at full run to scale a
bluff, to live upon the proceeds of his rifle for support.
and to whip any lowland fellow in the state.  Such was
the person who left his dark corner and came into the full




312            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
blaze of the pine-knot fire.  He was weeping bitterly
and, having no handkerchief, the primitive arrangement
for such cases provided was necessarily adopted.  He
stood silent for a minute, every beholder awaiting with
intense curiosity the announcement of his business, then,
clearing his throat, commenced, "I've come to Presbye-," but a new flood of tears impeded his efforts
to speak. The moderator kindly remarked, "And what
did you came to Presbytery for, my good friend?  Take
your own time and tell us all about it; don't be alarmed:;
be seated; nobody will hurt you.  Come, now, tell us
what you come to Presbytery for."  The stranger was
emboldened by this to commence again, even the third
and fourth time, but could never proceed further than
"I've come to Presby ——," and the storm  of his soul
prevailed.
Here one of the members suggested that he had better
retire with some one, and communicate his wishes privately; for as yet no person imagined his true errand,
but rather supposed.that he was laboring under some
spiritual difficulty, which he would needs have settled by
the meeting. But to this hint he resolutely demurred,
replying "that he'd get his voice d'reckly, please God;"
and so he did; and he rose up, straightening his gaunt,
awkward form, and then such words as passed his lips
had never before rung through that assembly.
I shall not attempt-nor could I do it, for want of a
report-to quote his own words; but the oldest minister
present declared, years afterward, that they scorched and
buzrnt wherever they fell.  A sketch of his subject will be
sufficient here.  It seems that he had lived all his days
in ignorance and sin, without an hour's schooling, with
out any training either for this world or the next, without any knowledge of the affairs of humanity, having
sprung up like one of the cedars on nis own mountains,




BE V. JAMES B. FINIILEY.             31i
and with as little cultivation.  Thus he had passed -more
than twenty years, laboring in a humble way for support,
and at times pursuing the pleasures and profits of the
chase.
A few months back he had accidentally fallen in with
a traveling preacher, who had lost his way among ths
mountains, and, by several miles' travel, had put him iis
the right track.
The minister, interested at the oddity of his appearance
and his intense ignorance of every thing religious, devoted
the hour to a sketch of this world's condition, buried in
sin, his own perilous state, and the value of his inimortal
soul, and concluded by kneeling with him, at the root of
a tree, and pleading with God for his spiritual regeneration. They parted, and met no more, but the influence
of that meeting parted not. The Spirit which dictated the
good man's effort, abode henceforward in the temple of
his heart.  A voice began to whisper in his ears, "Re'
pent, repent; why will ye die?"  A load, a weight of
mountains, pressed upon his soul.  Sleep forsook his eyelids.  His ax rusted by the pile; his rifle hung, dustcovered, on the wall.
The simple-hearted neighbors, ignorant as himself, pronounced him  deranged; the younger portion called it
love; a few, not slanderous, but suspicious, thought, in a
private way, it might be liquor.'The man himself sought
religious meetings, but they were few and distant, and he
heard no echo to the voice within him, and- he still
returned hungry and dissatisfied.
The people of a certain town will not soon forget the
apparition of that awkward and ill-dressed man who visited their churches, to plant himself in front of the pulpit, and to listen to the exercises with all that attention
which the criminal upon the gallows bestows upon the disl
tant horseman, who, perhaps, brings him te expected
2W7




314            AUTOBIOGRAPhiY  OF
reprieve. It was in the midst of a camp meeting fervor
that he at last found peace; and there his frantic ejaculation, "I've got it, I've got it!" was like the world-wide
Eureka of the Syracusan, when his grand discovery first
electrified his own breast.
Then he came home to tell his neighbors what the Lord
had. done for his soul. Forsaking all other duties, he
wandered from cabin to cabin, and, wherever he found a
hearer, he called upon him to forsake his sins. His ardor
increased every day.
Soon his rude but forcible illustrations began to tell
upon the hearts of those simple mountaineers, as the
words of a second John Baptist, crying out, "Prepare ye
the way of the Lord, make his paths straight."
And yet he seemed to have no idea that he was called
to preach. Such thought as that of entering the ministry
did not enter his breast. Although his heart overflowed
with the one subject, and he declared his' determination
to speak that subject to others, so long as he lived, yet it
was only as a friend counsels friend that he expected to
do it-no more. How could he become a preacher?  He
couldn't read a hymn or a text; he hadn't means to buy
decent clothing, or pay for a session's schooling. But he
was guided right, for he fell in with a gentleman who was
botanizing among his native hills, and had the good fortune to spend a Sabbath in his company.  This man, a
profound observer of human nature, and a friend of his
species, was struck with the peculiarities of the case, and,
although no professor in a religious way, yet he felt convinced that the hand of might was here. He, therefore,
advised him to apply to some religious association, before
which he could lay open his heart, and 1e understood.
The results of this counsel we have seen in his coming
to Presbytery, and presenting himself, a stranger to ail, in
the manner before described.  This history, much elabo



IttV. tA MES B. PINtr~.              315
rated, he gave out with a volubility that took away the
breath.
The pine fire blazed low; the dipped and shapeless candles simmered themselves into torrents, unobserved by the
hearers, while all sat spell-bound at the recital. With uncouth gestures, words barbarous as the African's, alter.nately crying and laughing, as he wandered from his first
agony to his final triumph, and shouting till his voice rang
back from the hill-side, the mountain boy enchained each
heart, till its very pulsations might be heard. There was
not a dry eye in the assembly. The gray-haired moderator sobbed aloud. The more excitable joined, from time
to time, in his shouts, as the words of victory rung in
their ears; and when, after a sentence of great length, he
declared that "glory was begun in his heart," and that
" God alone had done this work within him," not one who
was experienced in such announcements but declared his
conviction that it was even so-the hand of God was
there.
A brief consultation ensued, and- then, by general consent, George Willets was duly received as a candidate for
the holy ministry.  The next event in his history will
carry us more than ten years forward.
Much may be said about camp meetings, but, take then
all in all, for practical exhibition of religion, for unbounded
hospitality to strangers, for unfeigned and fervent spirituality, give me a country camp meeting against the world.
It was not many years ago that I was traversing the
hills in that vicinity in search of some rare specimens of:rinoids, that could only be found thereabouts. My wallet
hung heavily by my side —for the crinoidea abound all
through that range-and my steps were perceptibly shortening as IPtoiled up the hill which separated me from my
boarding-house, when I was overtaken by a horseman,
who, as soon as lie approached abreast of me, dismounted




(16            AUTOBIOGRAPH Y OF
without a question, and asked me to ride and tze with limt..
The proposition was so bluntly made as to leave out all
possibility of refusal, and I at once acceded to his request.
On we jogged together, and before I knew what I was
about, I found myself giving him a somewhat tedious
report of my day's labor, even to the preciseness of specifying the peculiar species gathered.
He heard me patiently through-I laugh at myself now
when I think of it-and then, with the most singular earnestness, inquired if I thought such labor redounded to the
glory of God! Although taken all aback, as the sailors
say, by the oddity of the association, yet I was not illread in the arguments of Buckland, Silliman, and Paley,
and I replied that divines of the greatest eminence consider the study of nature as the study of the first revelation of God. He was struck with the remark, hackneyed
as it was, and labored to draw me further out; but, feeling some diffidence upon this branch of my profession, 1
declined further debate, and changed the handle of the
conversation into his hand. He took it, and it was then
all about Jesus Christ and his religion, and how much
that religion is needed in the world, and how well every
kind of talent fits in the spiritual temple not made with
hands, and a great deal more to the same purpose.
Arriving in sight of my boarding-house, he asked me,
in a most humble and winning tone, if I would join him
in a wayside prayer; and as I could not, for the life of
me, refuse, we kneeled together, and he prayed for the
"learned and interesting stranger," that he might be led
to the foot of the cross in an early day, and find, with a
vision sharpened by faith, that the "revelation of grace"
far exceeds the "revelation of nature" in its displays of
the wisdom, power, and love of God. We parted tl.en,
neither having inquired the name or residence of the
other.




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               317
A few days afterward the Bethel camp meeting corn
menced, and I did not fail to be there. I arrived just
before sundown Saturday evening, and before any religious excitement had commenced. The meeting opened,
as usual, on Friday by a sermon at night. On the next
day the custom requires a morning sermon, and another
at candle-light, while upon the Sabbath not less than
three are expected by the crowded audiences that cover
the camp-ground on that day.
The scene, as I approached it, was highly interesting,
and my note-books are crammed, page after page, with
memoranda that fairly sparkle with.such leaders asvivid-rare-contrast of colors- clear heavens-solemnity,
etc.; but it has been better described in the series styled,
Needles from my Needle-Book," in M'Makin's Courier,
than I could do it; so I desist. As I rode up I was met at
the gate of the camp-ground by a crowd, black and white,
who asked the privilege to entertain me and my horse,
with as much earnestness as hack-drivers on a steamboat
wharf. Resigning myself to one with whom I had some
previous acquaintance, I took a lounge with him around
the inclosure, and then it was time for supper. This
bounteous meal is of the flesh-pots of Egypt, being
mainly composed of hog-meat-pardon the title; we see
no vulgarity in it here —in all shapes of cookery, mutton,
beef, and hecatombs of cold chickens. The sermon was
preached by a third-rate man, all the heavy caliber being
reserved for. next day. The same choice was made for
the eight o'clock sermon the next mornin.g.  There is a
cant phrase used in dividing our camp meeting preachers'
namely, eight o'clocks and eleven o'clocks, the latter bein,
the intellectual Sampsons of the occasion. Long before
the latter hour, I had seated myself at a convenient point
to see and hear-to see the audience and Aear the preacher.
The blowing of the horn called every one, young and




S318           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
old, to the stand, and by their eagerness it was plain tha;t
something was expected beyond the ordinary; and I congratulated myself upon having secured so favorable a
location, to gain the full advantage of it. I should have
observed that this location was directly under the pulpit,
leaning, in fact, against it, and I was, of course, debarred
fiom seeing the countenance of the speaker. There is
some little awkwardness, too, connected with that particular seat, for if the minister chance to prove a pulpitthumper, as many do, you might be suddenly aroused by
the fall of a pitcher of water, or the big Bible, upon your
cranium, as I have more than once beheld it.
The opening services, which are usually short at camp
meetings, were soon passed over, for it is plain that this
class of preachers look upon them as lightly as Napoleon
estimated the Tirailleur service, and they hasten up the
artillery.
The text was announced in a voice that I immediately
recognized as that of my traveling friend of a few days
previous.  I rejoiced at the omen.  His subject of discourse was embraced in the single word "Consider," and
led off by the odd remark, that if we would read the Bible diligently we could.find it there, so he thought it unnecessary to point out chapter and verse! It is immaterial for me to follow him through his divisions and exhibitions of the subject. My purpose is simply to show
what the mountain preacher-boy, for it was he, had done
with himself in ten years, during which he had been devoted to the calling of a minister. His first half year had
been spent in school, and although his educational progress had hardly been such as his friends anticipated, yet
by preaching nights and Sundays, and exhorting all the
time, he ha4 got up a revival of religion in the school
which swept like wildfire, and brought in scores to the
(old of the Church.




REV. JAMES B. FINTEY.                319
At the niext Presbytery he came up to beg leave to oe.oupy a circuit, and despite of his limited acquirementsfor as yet he could barely read a text or write a copythat body had regard to the peculiarities of his cass, and
licensed him. That constituted the true comment,ment
of his career; from this hour he was a man in the Master's work. It has been often remarked among the Methodist denomination, that the circuit is the true college of
the young preacher.  It proved so in the case of George
Willets. His idiosyncrasy was to tell a thing as soon as
he learned it; and while he could preach at night the
Scripture that he had studied through the day, he made
unbounded improvement. His memory proved retentive;
his ideality was highly vivid; perseverance attended him
as a shadow, and unlimited love for the souls of the world
kept him up, and kept him  going. There was never a
better combination of native talent for the pulpit, but literary training was wanting.
In sheer desperation the Presbytery concluded at last to
ordain him, and did so, although by a breach of the
Church's rule as to literary qualifications. It happened
that the occasion on which I first met him was his first
sermon since his ordination, and that for the first time in
his life he was to officiate in the administration of the
Lord's supper.
The whole tenor of his discourse was to show sinners
where they stand, and where they might stand.  There was
much eloquence, remarkable originality, even to coarseness, for I recollect that one of his comparisons introduced
fighting-chickens and their owners; powerful appeals to
the human heart, which he had read as a master; bu.t
best of all, a vein of tenderness so pure, so gentle, that
hundreds of us were lost in tears.  The peroration was
tremendous. How such a voice could come from mortal
ungs, I am  not physiologist enough t9 explain, but it




320            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
raised us to our feet like a trumpet, swayed us'to and fro,
to follow, as I suppose, the directions of his hand; and
at the closing appeal "for mourners to come forward and
be prayed for," such a rush was made that I could not
have withdrawn from my position with less than Amalek's
strength, and was compelled to endure such compression
as I never before experienced.
At the' hour of communion-service I heard him depia
ture the scene "on that dark, that doleful night,"
",When power of earth and hell arrayed
Against the Son of God's delight;"
and truly I had never before seen the face of the Man or
sorrows, nor heard him  speak.  Will the reader forgive
the personal allusion, when I say that, cynic as I may be,
or may have been, that effort brought my inmost soul to
declare that "almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian." At night that mountain voice again spoke upon us,
and ere I left the next morning a large accession, in the
way of new converts, was joyfully announced to the congregation.
Since that period I have often sat under the ministry
of George Willets, and never but to admire the inexhaustible fertility of a soil that lay fallow for so many years.
Maturity of intellect is upon him. The vagaries of his
youthful exercise in the pulpit have been conquered, but
the eloquence, the originality, the gentle vein of Christian
love he retains.
I have been furnished with another sketch of a backwoods preacher, which I will give:
Immense was the gathering at the Methodist campground'near Springfield, on the second Sunday of September, 1832.  A  powerful magnet had attracted this
great mass of people from their homes in many counties
a hundred miles round. The new presiding elder, a late
arrival from KentuckiT, an orator of wide-spread and wow




S T. JAAMES  3. FINLEY.             821
derful renown, it was known, would thunder on that day.
The glittering prestige of his fame had lightened before
him, and hence the universal eagerness to hear one con.
cerning whom rumor's trumpet tongue discoursed so
loudly.
Morning broke in the azure east, bright and beautiful
as a dream of heaven; but the ex-prodigy had not made
his advent. Eleven o'clock came-the regular hour of
tne detonation of the heavy gun of orthodoxy-and still
there was no news of the clerical lion. A common circuit
preacher took his place, and, sensible of the popular disappointment, increased it by mouthing a miserable failure..he vexed and restless crowd began to disperse, when an
event happened to excite afresh their curiosity and concentrate them  again denser than ever.  A  messenger
rushed to the pulpit in hot haste, and presented a note,
which was immediately read out to prevent the people
from scattering. The following is a literal copy of that
singular epistle:
"DEAR BRETIIREN,-The devil has foundired my horse,
which will detain me from reaching your tabernacle till
evening. I might have performed the journey on foot;
but I could not leave poor Paul, especially as he has
never left Peter. Horses have no souls to save, and,
therefore, it is all the more the duty of Christians to take
care of their bodies. Watch and pray, and don't let the
devil get among you on the sly before candle-light, when
I shall be at my post
"Your brother,."
At length the day closed. The purple curtain of nigh.
fell over the earth from the darkening sky. God's golden
fire flashed out in heaven, and men below kindled their
watch-fires. The encampment, a village of snowy tents,
was illuminated with a brilliancy that caused every leaf
to shine and sparkle as if all the trees were burnished
21




322           AUTOBIOGRAP'HY  OF
with phbosphorescent flame. It was like a theater.  i,
was a theater in the open air, on the green sward, beneath
the starry blue, incomparably more picturesque and gorgeous than any stage scenery, prepared within walls of
brick or marble, where the elite of cities throng to feast
their eyes on beauty and their ears on music of silvery
sound.
Presently a form arose in the pulpit, and commenced
giving out a hymn, preliminary to the main exercises, and
every eye became riveted to the person of the stranger.
Indeed, as some one said of Burke, a single flash of the
gazer's vision was enough to reveal the extraordinary
man, although, in the present case, it must, for the sake
of truth, be acknowledged that the first impression was
ambiguous, if not enigmatical and disagreeable.  His
figure was tall, burly, massive, and seemed even more
gigantic than the reality from the crowning foliage of
luxuriant, coal-black hair, wreathed into long, curling
ringlets. Add a head that looked as large as a halfbushel, beetling brows, rough and craggy as fragmentary
granite, irradiated at the base by eyes of dark fire, small
and twinkling like diamonds in a sea-they were diamonds of the soul, shining in a measureless sea of humor-a swarthy complexion, as if embrowned by a southern sun, rich, rosy lips, always slightly parted, as wearing
a perpetual smile, and you have a lifelike portrait of
Mr. -, the far-famed backwoods preacher.
Though I heard it all, from the text to the amen, I am
forced to despair of any attempt to convey an accurate
idea of either the substance or manner of the sermon
which followed. There are different sorts of sermonsthle argumentary, the dogmatic, the postulary, the persuasive, the punitive, the combative, "in orthodox blows
and knocks," the logical, and the poetic; but this specimen belonged to none of these categories.  It was 8w




REV. JAMES B. T INLEY.                323
ueneris, and of a new  species. It might properly be
termed the waggish.
He began with a loud and beautifully-modulated tone,
in a voice that rolled on the serene night air like successive peals of grand thunder.  Methodist ministers are
celebrated for sonorous voices; but his was matchless in
sweetness as well as power. For the first ten minutes his
remarks, being preparatory, were commonplace and uninteresting; but then, all of a sudden, his face reddened.
his eye brightened, his gestures grew animated as the
waftures of a fierce torch, and his whole countenance
changed into an expression of inimitable humor; and now
his wild, waggish, peculiar eloquence poured forth like a
mountain torrent.  Glancing arrows, with shafts of ridicule, bon mots, puns, and side-splitting anecdotes sparkled, flashed, and flew like hail till the vast auditory was
convulsed with laughter. For a while the more ascetic
strove to resist the current of their own spontaneous emotions, the sour-faced clergy frowned and hung their heads,
and all the maidenly saints groaned as with unspeakable
anguish at such desecration of the evangelical desk.
These, however, soon discovered that they had undertaken an impossible achievement in thinking to withstand
the facetias of Mr.. His every sentence was like a
warm finger, tickling the ribs of the hearer. His very
looks incited to mirth far more than other people's jokes,
so that the effort to maintain one's equilibrium  only increased the disposition to burst into loud explosions, as
every school-boy has verified in similar cases. At length
the encampment was in a roar, the sternest features
relaxed into smiles, and the coldest eyes melted into
tears of irrepressible merriment.  Mather's best comedy
or Sheridan's funniest farce was not half so successful.
This continued thirty minutes, while the orator painted
the folly of the sinner, which was his theme.  I looked




824            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
on and laughed with the rest, but finally began to feat
the result as to the speaker.
"How," I exclaimed, mentally, "will he ever be able
to extricate his audience from that deep whirlpool of humor?  If he ends thus, when the merry mood subsides,
and calm reflection supervenes, will not the revulsion of
feeling be deadly to his fame?  Will not every hearer
realize that he has been trifled with in matters of sacred
and eternal interests?  At all events, there is no prospect
of a revival to-night; for were the orator a magician, he
could not change his subject now, and stem the torrent of
headlong laughter."
But the shaft of my inference fell short of the mark;
and even then he commenced to change, not all at once,
but gradually, as the wind of a thunder-cloud. His features lost their comical tinge of pleasantry; his voice grew
first earnest, and then solemn, and soon wailed out in the
tones of deepest pathos; lis eyes were shorn of their mild
light, and yielded streams of tears, as the fountain of the
hill yielded water. The effect was indescribable, and the
rebound of feeling beyond all revelation. He descanted
on the horrors of hell, till every shuddering face was
turned downward, as if expecting to see the solid glooe
rent asunder, and the fathomless, fiery gulf yawn from
beneath. Brave men moaned like sick infants, and fair,
fashionable women, covered with silken drapery, and bedight with gems, shrieked as if a knife were working
among their heart-strings.
Again he changed the theme; sketched the soys of a
righteous death-its faith, its hope, its winged raptures,
and what beautiful angels attended the spirit to its starry
home —with such force, great and evident belief, that all
eyes were turned toward heaven, as the entire congregation started to their feet, as if to hail the vision of angels at which the finger of the preacher seemed to oe




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               525
pointed, elevated as it was on high to the full length of
his arm.
He then made a call for mourners into the altar, and
five hundred, many of them till that night infidels, rushed
forward and prostrated themselves on their knees.  The
meeting was continued for two weeks, and more than a
thousand converts added to' the Church. From that time
the success of Mr.    -      was unparalleled, and the
fact is chiefly due to his inimitable wit and masterly eloquence that Methodism is now the prevailing religion in
Illinois.
"In what college did he graduate?  Surely, it must
have been a mighty alma mater to develop such a son."
You are more than half right, my good questioner.
Mr., like most preachers of his sect, received
his education in the great universal university, the same
that produced Moses, Homer, Plato, Shakspeare, Franklin-that weaver of garlands from the lightning's wingWashington, and Patrick Henry.  High up on the mountain top, deep down in the lowest valleys, far out on the
rolling billow, there he studied and toiled together, in the
most glorious of all schools-the free school of self-cultuie!
"But did he graduate?"
Ay, and nature's own hand wrote his diploma with a
pencil of living light, and stamped it with a seal of fire,
the immortal fire of true genius.
Mr.-       became an itinerant at eighteen, with no
learning from books save what he derived from the pages
)f his Bible and collection of hymns. Year after year he
continued to travel the wild circuit of the frontier, earning
annually but a hundred dollars for labors painful as a
slave at the oar. But his vocation afforded him an excellent opportunity for meditation, and even reading. In his,ong journeys from one appointment to another, he was




326            AUTOBIOGRAPIHI   OF
alone, with nothing around him but woods and waters,
birds, mountains, sun, moon, and stars. Furthermore, he
bought him books of literature and science, ana pored
over them as he rode along, with an ardor and perseverance such as perhaps never was witnessed within the
stone walls of a college.  Thus he mastered mathematics,
logic, physic, law, and several languages, ancient and
modern. 0, believe me, believe all human history, there
is no teacher like the student's own hard-working intellect,
urged on to action and guided in its efforts by the omnipotence of an unconquerable will.
"Why did not this western prodigy achieve for himself
a more extended renown? Why did he not climb to the
loftiest stations in the Church? If thlis narrative be true,
he ought, before now, to have been a bishop, at least."
The statement of a few facts will solve the problem.
Let it be remembered, then, that the Methodist Episcopal
Church is a hierarchy, in which the dispensation of clerical honors rests exclusively with the bishops and General
conferences of itinerants, where the laity and local preachers are unrepresented, and, consequently, have no voice..
Hence, in that sect, popular eloquence, and other showy
qualities, have never been found sufficient passports to the
pre-eminent distinctions of authority and office, but often
to the reverse. The bishop's gown must be worn by
steady, austere devotion, not by brilliant oratory or profound and varied learning.
On this perilous rock Mr.-   -'s lofty vessel was
shivered into atoms of a hopeless wreck. He made no
pretensions to superior sanctity; nor was it manifested in
his conduct and demeanor, whether in the pulpit or in
private life. Indeed, he was distinguished by one very
unclerical peculiarity-combativeness in the superlative
degree.  His battles, though always apparently in the defensive, were as numerous as the celebrated Bowie. The




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                 327
only difference was this, that Bowie fought with deadly
weapons, while Mr. -— used but his enormous fist,
which was as effective, however, in the speedy settlement
of belligerent issues as any knife or pistol ever forged
out of steel. Let the reader judge from the following
anecdote.
At a camp meeting upon one of his early circuits
there was a great collection of rowdies.  They were
both intoxicated and armed with clubs, dirks, knives,
and whips; and they swore they would break up the
meeting.  At eight o'clock, on Sunday morning, Mr.
---    — was appointed to preach.  When about half
through his discourse two well-dressed young men marched
into the assembly, with loaded whips, and hats on, and,
standing up in the midst of the ladies, began to laugh
and talk. The preacher requested them to desist; but,
in reply, they cursed him, told him to mind his own
business, and refused to sit down. Mr.           then
called for a magistrate; but, although two were present,
they were both afraid to interfere. The preacher then
descending from the stand, told the magistrates to command him to take the rowdies, and he would do it at
the risk of his life.  He advanced toward them; they
ordered him to stand off. One of them struck at the
preacher's head with his whip, when the latter closed
in with the rowdy, and jerked him off the seat. A regular scuffle now ensues; the congregation is all in commotion. The preacher throws his prisoner, and holds
him fast; threatening that unless he is quiet, he will
be thoroughly pounded. Meanwhile the mob rushes to
the rescue, and an old drunken magistrate comes up,
and orders Mr.      to let his prisoner go. He refuses.
The officer swears that if he does not release the rowdy,
he will knock him down. The preacher tells him to
crack away. The drunken justice makes a pass at Mr




328           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
----—, who parries the stroke, seizes the officer by the
collar and hair, and, by a sudden jerk forward, brings
him to the ground, and jumps upon him; telling him,
as he told the rowdy, to be quiet, or he should be well
pounded. A general melee ensues. The mob knocked
down several magistrates and several preachers. Meanwhile Mr.         placed himself at the head of the
friends of order, and he and the ringleader of the mob
meet. The rowdy attacks the preacher with the inten
tion of knocking him down; but, by the force of his
last pass, the side of his face is turned toward the
preacher, who gives a sudden and well-directed blow in
the burr of the ear, and drops him to the earth.  Whereupon a general rush is made upon the- mob by the friends
of order, and the rascals are knocked down in every
direction. In a few moments they wheel and flee to the
four winds, with the exception of about thirty prisoners
who are marched off to a vacant tent, and placed under
guard till Monday, when they were tried, and fined to
the utmost limits of the law. The old drunken magistrate was fined with the rest, and cashiered.
The mob being vanquished, the whole encampment,
as might be expected, wore the aspect of mourning.
There was no attempt to resume preaching till evening;
and such was the confusion that no one was willing to
preach even then. But Mr.        felt his spirit stirred
within him, and said to the elder, "I feel a clear conscience, for, under the circumstances, we have done
right; and now I ask to let me preach."  "Do," said
the elder, "for there is no other man on the ground
that can do it."
The trumpet was blown, and there was a general rush
to the stand. The preacher called upon them all to
pray, if they ever prayed in their lives. He took for
his text, "The gates of hell shall not prevail."  His




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               329
voice was strong and clear, and his speech was encouraging. In a few minutes the power of God fell wondrously upon the congregation; the people fell in ranks,
and in all directions, and hundreds were presently like
dead men on the field of battle. Loud wailings for
mercy were heard from prostrate sinners, and a general
shout of Christians rolled up on the evening air as the
voice of many waters. The meeting lasted all nightall of Monday and Monday night, and two hundred souls
were converted and joined the Church.
A thousand other incidents, equally material and interesting, are related as to Mr.'s adventures in Kentucky and Illinois.  Many of them are probably fictitious;
but those genuine alone, if collected, would be sufficient
to stock at least two volumes of romantic reality.
Such was the backwoods preacher; and biography
teaches us the mighty influences of circumstances in
molding the characters and fixing the destinies of individual men. Had that splendid genius been cast on
the tide of war or thrown into the fiery vortex of the
revolutionary era, his name might have been a signal of
doom to quaking nations, his renown might have blazed
like a comet through all time.




330            AUTOBIQOGtRA'iY o0
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE YOUNG MISSIONARY AND THE ROBBER.
THE following account of a missionary from one of the
eastern states, who had completed his theological studics
and received his commission to labor in the west, has
been furnished me for publication. Like many who come
from the east, he was wonderfully ignorant of the west.
He had seen, occasionally, an article in some of the three
or four religious pericdicals of that period, about the
far west, and with a benevolent desire of doing good to the
destitute and scattered pioneers of this remote and then
scarcely-known region, had traveled on horseback from
his native village, preaching on Sabbaths, as occasion
offered, during his long journey. Ohio was then "said
to be" a land of moral desolation; Indiana was "supposed," to be many degrees lower in the scale of civilization; and the new state of Illinois was imagined to be situated very near the jumping-off place. A vague and
somewhat doubtful impression existed as to the locality
and character of Missouri; and Kentucky was known
abroad by report for its fighting and gouging propensities,
while the population were characterized as "half-horse,
half-alligator, and a touch of the snapping-turtle."
Among the vague and rather indistinct impressions ot
the character and habits of the frontier adventurers, that
floated over the mind of the young missionary, were those
of robbery and murders.
During the period of inquiry and anxious meditation
about devoting his life as a missionary of the cross, in thl




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.              331
wilds of the west, the idea of robbery and murder occupied no minor place in his imagination. Still, with commendable resolution, and a martyr spirit, he resolved to
hazard even life, with the sacrifice of every earthly comfort, to preach the Gospel, and introduce the meliorating
influences of civilization among a people who belonged to
the same nation with himself, and who might eventually
exert a controlling influence over the destinies of the
republic.
It was a cloudy and cold day in the month of December, that our missionary friend was seen crossing an arm
of the Grand Prairie, east of the Okau, as the Kaskaskia
river by abbreviation —au Kas-and French accent had
been called. He had traveled a long distance that day,
by following a devious and obscure trail, or "bridle
path," now through a skirt of timber, then across the
point of a prairie, without seeing a log-cabin, or any other
sign of a human residence. Night was fast approaching.
The landlord where he was accommodated with "private
entertainment" the preceding night, had directed him on
a "blind trail" to a fording place across the Okau, beyond
which, and in the same direction, was the town of G,
to which he was journeying. But horse and rider were
tatigued with long fasting and a hard ride, and the missionary could form no conjecture how far it might be
from a settlement which he had hoped to reach before
nightfall.
Anxious, and somewhat bewildered, he looked in each
direction for signs of a human habitation, when an uncouth specimen of humanity appeared on horseback, coming in a rapid movement, and a diagonal direction, across
the prairie, toward the path of the missionary. As the
man approached, his personal appearance, dress, and
equipage, manifested no friendly design. His head was
covered with the skin of the prairie wolf, with tail hangin"




332            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
behind. His outer garment was neither a coat, frock, nor
flowse. In western parlance, it was a hunting-shirt, made
of dressed deer-skin, with the cape and side-strips curiously notched and fringed, but to the missionary it had an
alarming aspect.
Over it bung a powder-horn and bullet-pouch, and
around his body was a leathern belt, in which was thrust
a formidable knife. A loaded rifle carelessly lay across
the rider's shoulders.
Nor was his personal appearance in the least degree
prepossessing. He sported a black beard of three weeks'
growth, and dark, elfish locks of hair could be seen beneath the skin-cap. His countenance, from constant exposure to the weather, was swarthy, and a rough, stalwart
frame seemed, to the alarmed missionary, of gigantic proportions. It had braved the storms of more than forty
winters.
Every indication painted most vividly on the perturbed
imagination of the missionary the danger that hung over
him. The first impulse was to urge his horse into a
flight. A second thought convinced him of the hopelessness of the attempt, and breathing a word of prayer to
heaven for protection, he felt to submit to his fate, with a
gleam of hope that the desperado, who was but a few
yards from him, might, peradventure, spare his life.
The salutation tliat struck on his ears, in a harsh, gut.
tural voice, conveyed no consolation to his mind, and only
served to increase his alarm.
"Hallo, stranger! what are you about there?  Where
are you a riding?".
The reply was given in the language of weakness and
submission, and something was added, with indistinct
utterance, about giving up his horse and equipments if
his life might be spared. Learning, on further inquiry,
that his route was across the river, to a settlement some




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                333
fiftecnll or twenty miles distant, the supposed robber replied, in a voice by no means mild and attractive, "You
can't get there to-night; besides the old ford is washed
away, and you can not find the new one.  Iccan fix you."
The term "fix" had an ominous import; but the exact
degree of outrage implied in this new form of speech was
not very clearly understood by the missionary. But there
was no alternative. He was alone and wholly unprotected; he was small in stature, of a slender make, had
no weapons but spiritual ones, and successful resistance
was hopeless. He knew not the path to the river, and
were-he to attempt flight the death-dealing rifle might
stop him. So he turned, as directed, into the trail, and
followed the guide. As they slowly rode in " Indian file"
through the tall grass, with points of timber and brushwood for the space of two miles, the missionary drew a
fancy picture, on his imagination, of a cave and a band
of robbers, who would soon "'fix" him or determine his
fate. He breathed more freely when he found only a
single cabin, a rough-looking stable for horses, and a
cornfield of a few acres, with no signs of accomplices.
"Light, stranger, and take your saddle-bags.  I'll fix'your horse."
Taking his saddle-bags on his arms, as directed, he,ntered the cabin through a low door-way.  Here was a
woman and three children; but their personal appearance
and dress might or might not indicate danger to the traveler. On her head was a covering of coarse cotton, called,
in the language of a past generation, a "sun-bonnet."  It
nearly hid her face from human observation.
Reaching forward a stool, the only salutation given was,
"Take a seat by the fire, stranger."
Recollecting what Ledyard and other travelers had said
of the humanity and hospitality of the female sex, the
missionary mu-ed on the probabilities of escaping with




334            AUTOBIOGRAPHY Or'
his life, feeling a degree of reconciliation to the Moss of
his horse, his saddle-bags, and the contents of his purse,
which last contained but a few dollars for traveling expences.  In his saddle-bags were divers articles of apparel which he could spare, and there was the pocketBible, the gift of a mother now in Leaven, a hymn-book,
and a small package of neatly-written sermons, which
had cost him several months' labor, and, as he fancied,
were admirably adapted to disperse the clouds of ignorance that brooded over the inhabitants of Illinois.
In the mean time, the settler, hunter, or robber, in
whatever vocation he might appeal, had replenished the
fire with some logs of dry hickory, while the busy housewife was preparing the homely meal.
It consisted of fried venison-steak, corn-dodgers, and
highly-flavor-ed coffee, with the appurtenances of fresh
cream and excellent butter.
The missionary, who had eaten nothing since early
dawn, and was cogitating whether feminine humanity
would not afford him  a morsel in the corner where he
sat, was startled with the invitation, "Sit by, stranger,
and take a bite."
If surprise and gratitude were the first emotions,
amazement followed, when the apparent robber implored
the blessing of God in a sonorous voice, closing with an
expressive amen.
Bewildered and confused, the missionary forgot to eat,
till repeatedly reminded by the now apparently-hospitabls
landlord and his kind-hearted wife that he did not eat.
"Perhaps he was not used to such fare. Would he take
a sup of milk?" He did not seem to regain his appetite
till the officious housewife brought on her platter of
honey, gathered from  the hollow sycamore, and made
divers apologies that her larder contained nothing he
could eat.




REV. JA3MIES I. FINLEY.              335
After supper, the landlord commenced religious conversation with the inquiry, "Are you a professing man,
stranger?"  The question relative to Church membership was propounded in a novel form, and did not convey
to the mind of the missionary exactly the idea intended.
"You looked mightily skeered when I found you in the
prairie. I reckon you were a sort of lost?"Still the replies were vague and confused, and it was
not till the owner of the cabin, in a loud and animating
tone, struck up the favorite hymn of the followers of
Wesley"A charge to keep I have,
A God to glorifyA never-dying soul to save,
And fit it for the sky"in which his wife joined-that the minister was relieved
from his perturbation, and could converse calmly. The
hymn was followed by a characteristic prayer, in which
the "stranger" was affectionately remembered at the
throne of mercy, to which the wife responded with several audible groans. Conversation followed the evening
obligation, during which the missionary disclosed his profession and his object in traveling, and received due
reproof for his previous backwardness. But he had no;
the heart to tell his fears and sufferings from the apprehension of robbery and murder from a kind-hearted local
Methodist preacher, in a backwoods disguise, who was the
first man to preach the Gospel to the scattered population
on the borders of the Grand Prairie, east of the Okau.
Next morning the missionary led in prayer, and, after
an early breakfast, the hospitable preacher saddled his
own horse, with that of the missionary, and piloted him
to thc "hiew" fording-place across the river, several miles
in the direction toward G -.
Giving the parting hand, with a severe but affectionate




336            AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
grasp, the valedictory was, "Now, stranger, you knel
where my cabin is; don't pass without giving me a call,
and stay long enough to give the people a preach."
The missionary found a field of labor in a new and
growing village, among a population quite as intelligent
and virtuous as the people of his native state, and a
church edifice, a Sabbath school, and Bible class rose
under his labors.
The Methodist preacher, whom his brethren at quarterly meeting never suspected of having been mistaken
for a robber, in due time doffed his wolf-skin cap and
leather hunting-shirt, became clad in cotton garments,
spun and wove by his industrious wife, made a large farm,
prepared spacious "camping ground" for the annual consecrations, and witnessed the conversion of many sinners
under his own labors.
The missionary acknowledged to the writer, when he
revealed, in a somewhat confidential manner, the story
of his fright, that he was but half educated when he
came to Illinois.
Both these men had their appropriate spheres of usefulness, to which they were fitted by nature, habits, education, and grace, and both, many years since, received
the plaudit, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant,
enter thou into the joy of thy Lord."




REV. JA-MES B. FINLEY.              337
CHAPTER XIX.
THE MARTYR PREACHER.
THE vows of God were on him. Hearing a voice which
none else could hear, that called him to leave home, and
kindred, and country, and seeing a hand which none else
could see, that beckoned him onward, young Richmond
Nolley bade adieu to all the endearments of a happy
home, and entered the rough and toilsome field of itinerant life. Though he had a slender and delicate frame,
and a feeble constitution, he did not stop to confer with
flesh and blood, but, buckling on the harness as a faithful
soldier, he went forth, at the command of his Master, to
glorious war. He was one of nature's amiable children;
such a one, like Summerfield or Cookman, whom all must
love. To know them is to love them. Innocent, amiable,
unsuspecting, and guileless, their nature is lost in the
great depths of humanity, and their whole life is one of
self-sacrificing devotion to the interests of the human
race. They live, like their divine Master, for others, and
not for themselves. Name, and fame, and fortune, are
all ignored in Christ, and they are a practical exemplification of the apostle's doctrine of self-consecration to God.
Of such, a cold, covetous, selfish, mammon-loving world
is not worthy; and the wonder is not that they die early,
but that God should allow them to stay here as long as
they have been permitted to stay. I have a distinct and
vivid recollection of the fate of Nolley. I was then but
young myself in the ministry, and had passed through
some rough and trying scenes in itinerant life; but in all
22




to:338         A UTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
my experience as a minister, I had heard of nothing like
it.  The impression made upon my mind was deep and
powerful.  His deep devotion, his youth, his delicate constitution, the circumstance of his dying alone and unattended in the wilderness, was like a wave of wormwood
over my soul, rolling its bitterness. How did I wish that,
instead of that frail form being exposed to the fatigues of
that fatal journey, it had fallen to my lot, as one reared
amid such scenes would have been likely to have survived
the perilous mission. But I must not anticipate.  The
history of this young preacher is short, but full of incident.
He was born in Virginia, though the date of his birth is
not exactly known. At an early age his father removed to
the state of Georgia. But little is known of his early life,
except that he possessed those remarkable traits of character which were so fully developed in after life. About the
year 1806 he was made the happy subject of the converting grace of God, and united himself with the Methodist Episcopal Church. It was not long after his conversion that the inward monitions of the Spirit were felt,
urging him to enter his Lord's vineyard, and engagein
the work of calling sinners to repentance. In matters of
such solemn import, the Spirit rarely moves upon the
heart of the individual in advance of the impressions of
the Church; and he scarcely begins to-feel it his duty to
exhort sinners to flee the wrath to come, and be saved
from their sins, before he is invited by the Church to exercise his gifts. Some run before they are called. Of
such are those who profess to be called of God to preach
the Gospel, but who, notwithstanding all their efforts, can
not convince the Church of that fact. Generally speak-.ng, the voice of the Church is the voice of God, and
what is done in her holy councils is ratified in heaven. It
was soon discovered that young Nolley had a vow upon




REV. JAMES. FINLEY.               339
him, and that to grace was added gifts which, if allowed
to be properly exercised, would soon be productive of
fruit to the honor and glory of God.
One year after his conversion, he was admitted into the
traveling connection, and sent to Edisto circuit, in South
Cnr.olina.  So rapidly did the powers of this youthful herald of the cross develop themselves, that his next appointment, being but the second year of his ministry, was in
Wilmington, North Carolina; and the succeeding year to
the more responsible station of the city of Charleston, the
capital of South Carolina.
A city life not proving congenial to his health, and the
pastoral labors connected therewith being more than his
frail constitution could bear, the next year we find him on
Washington circuit, in the state of Georgia.  In 1812, in
compliance with the request of the bishop, he went on a
mission to Tombeebee. After passing through a wilderness of three hundred and fifty miles, embracing many
savage nations, during which he was subjected to all kinds
of hardships, such as swimming deep rivers and creeks,
often destitute of food, sometimes lost in the depths of the
forest, exposed to wild beasts or savage men, and lying
out with nothing but the earth for his bed and the dark
vault above for his covering, he at last arrived at the place
of his destination.
Here, on this distant and toilsome field, he spent two
years in laboring most indefatigably for the glory of God
and the advancement of the Redeemer's kingdom.  Thousands would have lived and died in this frontier region,
without having heard of salvation, had it not been for the
itinerant system of a Church which had the men of nerve.
to carry it out. And while the "successors of the aposties" were sitting in their gas-lighted saloons, reclining
on their rich velvet-cushioned Elizabethans, discoursing
pathetically ab6ut the moral wastes of the west, and the




340            AUTOBIOGRAPHIY OF
inefficient ministry, Nolley and his coadjutors were carry.
ing the bread of life to starving, dying thousands, anat
peopling heaven with little less than the redeemed of heathen lands. If Princeton, Yale, Union, and Rochester,
were emptied to-day, and scattered among the destitute of
our frontier settlements, how lofng do you think, gentle
reader, it would take them to acquire the efficiency of a
backwoods itinerant in getting souls converted to God?
On this mission, where appointments were as far apart
as conferences now are long, or as would embrace an entire circuit, lie never lost an appointment.  He never
stopped for wet or cold. The invisible hand beckoned him
onward, the inaudible voice urged him forward, and often
without a horse he would take his saddle-bags on hik
shoulders and walk to his appointments. In regard to the
hours of sleep, he carried out to the letter the rules of the
father of Methodism, and at early morn, while many were
locked fast in the embrace of Morpheus, he was up with
the lark, at his morning orisons. It is reported of him,
that he most diligently instructed the children, in every
plae —a duty, alas! too often neglected by many who
have declared before God and the world that they would
attend to it. The poor slave was not forgotten in his daily
ministrations. Every day, almost, found him in the hut
of the sable son and daughter of Africa, teaching them
the religion of Christ, and the way to heaven; and had it
not been for the labors of just such faithful men, "Uncle
Tom's Cabin" would have been devoid of every element
of interest. But not only did he instruct the children,
and labor and pray with the slave, but at every house,
among parents and masters, with the young and the old,
the rich and the poor, the bond and the free, he endeavored to make full proof of his ministry by "warning every
man, and teaching every man in all wisdom, that he might
present every man perfect in Christ Jesus."




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY,               341
In this grkat work he often met with opposition; he was
threatened and execrated; but for revilings and persecutions he returned blessings, and his tears and prayers often
disarmed persecution, and sent trembling to the stoutest
heart. He was on the Tombecbee mission when the In'
dian war raged with the most relentless fury, and the unprotected whites fell in every direction beneath the murderous tomahawk and scalping-knife of the savage. When
the people had all taken refuge in forts, and were afraid
to visit their plantations, the intrepid missionary, as if
conscious of immortality till his work was done, unarmed
and unattended, went from fort to fort, and preached the
Gospel as a visiting angel of mercy. By these, and other
acts of Christian kindness, he enthroned himself in the
hearts of all the people, and his name will be a household
word in time, while his deeds will live forever.
His untiring zeal and devotion, which prompted him to
many exposures, preyed heavily upon his delicate constitution, and it seemed, to all human appearance, that he
must quit the itinerant field. Reduced almost to a shadow,
with pale, attenuated features, he was found among his
brethren at the conference, after the year's toil had ended.
His dauntless spirit would not allow him to desist from
labor, and seek that rest which was essential to his restoration. Determined, as it seemed, to run on and burn
out, like the arrow of Ascestes, which took fire in its flight
and vanished in the immensity of heaven, so he, as a flaming herald of the cross, on fire of a quenchless zeal,
pressed on to the mark of the heavenly prize.
Receiving an appointment on the Attakapas circuit, in
the state of Louisiana, he entered upon the work, and
for one year encountered toils and hardships which would
have broken down a more rugged constitution. Still ne
counted not his life dear to him; but, in the midst of long
and tedious rides, muddy and almost impassable roads,




342            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
deep waters, with weariness and faintness,'vith fastings
and watchings, he journeyed on.  The peculiarities of
the work made it necessary, in the estimation of the
bishop, for him to return to the circuit next year, and,
without a murmur or a sigh, he started out again for his
distant field.
He was accompanied by a fellow-missionary across the
Mississippi and through a vast swamp.  The difficulties
they had to encounter were almost incredible, and, coming
to a place where they must separate, after embracing each
other, with mutual benedictions, they parted.
It was in the latter part of November, and it was a
dark, cold, rainy day. Arriving at night at the house of
a friendly man, where he staid till morning, imparting the
comforts of religion to its inmates, he departed on his
journey. Across his path there lay a large swamp and
deep creeks, and not a single white man was to be found
between that and the place of his destination. Alone he
traveled on till evening, when he found himself at an
Indian village. Having to cross a creek before night,
and apprehending from the rains that it would be swollen,
he employed an Indian to go with him. When he arrived
on its banks, he found it, as he anticipated, a full and
angry flood, rushing tumultuously along. There was no
alternative but to cross or remain with the savages; so he
chose the former, and, leaving his valise, saddle-bags, and
a parcel of books with the Indian, he urged his horse into
the stream. No sooner did his noble charger strike the
furious current than he was beaten down the flood. The
noble animal battled courageously with the tide; but before the other shore was reached, horse and rider were
far below the landing-place of the ford, and, the banks
being high and precipitous, it was impossible for the horse
to gain a foothold or make the ascent of the other shore
In the struggle to do so the rider was thrown, and, grasp.




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                 343
ing the limb of a tree which extended over the stream, he
reached the shore. The horse swam back to the side of
the stream from whence he started.
The missionary directed the Indian to keep his horse
till morning, and he would walk to the nearest house,
which was distant about two miles. He traveled through
the woods about one mile, wet, cold, and weary. Unable to proceed any further, and conscious, perhaps, that
his work was done, and he had at last fulfilled the errand
of his Master, he fell upon his knees* and conmmended his
soul to God.
There, in that wild wood of the far west, alone with his
Master and the ministering spirits that encamp around the
saints, Richmond Nolley, the young missionary, closed his
eyes on earth to open them in heaven.
When he was found he was lying extended upon the
wet leaves, his left hand upon his breast and the other
lying by his side.  His eyes were closed, and the gentle
spirit left a smile upon his pallid cheek ere it passed away
to that bright and beautiful world, where the wicked cease
to trouble and the weary are at rest.' The indentations made by his knees were left on the ground close ty,
t mark the spot where he made his last prayer.




34;4          AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
CHAPTER XX.
ITINERANT LIFE OONTINUED.
THE Steubenville conference of 1818 lasted eight days,
and was a most interesting season. I was reappointed to
the Ohio district, and, after conference, started with my
brethren to my field of labor. All the preachers seemed
disposed to do and suffer the will of God in the dischargG
of the duties growing out of their vocation.
For someyears Bishop M'Kendree had been interested
in the various tribes of Indians, and was anxious to have
missions established among them. A work of grace hav
ing commenced among the Wyandotts, at Upper Sandusky, through the instrumentality of a colored exhorterJ. Stewart-the Bishop made an engagement with my
brother, John P. Finley, to go among them and teach the
youth to read and write, and to preach to the adults.
Brother Montgomery was appointed to labor among the
Indians in company with Stewart, and for his support a
collection was taken up of five and ten dollars from the
preachers. At this conference the Bishop asked me if I
would not go there and labor as a missionary. I remarked
that I did not think I had the necessary qualifications, and
that there were others who would do vastly better. 1
thought I had not sufficient patience to teach school.
After some further conversation on the subject we parted,
but not without a strong impression made upon my mind
by the remarks of the Bishop, that at some future day i$
was his intention to send me to that work.
We had a fine time on the district during the winter.
The area of Immanuel's kingdom was enlarged.  As fast




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               345
-as the people moved into the country the preachers vis-ited them, and soon as they had their cabins reared, they
commenced preaching and forming societies. The camp
meetings during the latter part of the year were attended
with success. In many places the novelty of such scenes
as are presented by worshiping God in the grove attracted
the attention of many, and produced a good impression.
But few can look upon a: camp meeting scene and not be
moved. Such a scene as is presented by an encampment
at night, to one who has never witnessed any thing like it
before, must be impressive. To look upon the long ranges
of tents surrounding a large area, in each corner of which
bright fires are lighted up, and then from tent and tree
to see innumerable lamps hung out, casting their lights
among the branches and illuminating all the ground,
would remind one of the descriptions given of an oriental
wedding scene, when, at midnight, the cry is heard, "Behold, the bridegroom cometh! Go ye forth to meet him."
Then the sound of the trumpet, and the gathering together of thousands, who pass to and fro with lights and
torches, all has a tendency to awaken the most solemn
reflections. And when the holy song rises from a thousand voices, and floats out upon the stillness of the night
air, the listener must feel that surely such a place is holy
ground.  These camp meetings were seasons of special
mercy to thousands, and many who came to curse remained to pray for salvation- and seek an interest in the
blessed Savior.
The conference this year met in Cincinnati, August 7,
1819. Many of the fathers of our Israel were with us.
These holy shepherds, having been traveling extensively
in the intervals of conference, passing through the circuits,
and stations, and districts, proclaiming salvation, meeting
classes, attending love-feasts, and stimulating the younger
preachers in their work, kindled a flame of love- to God in




34:6          AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
every heart. The itinerants caught the holy fire, and
thus, newly baptized with the unction from above, went
out with fresh zeal into the vineyard of their Lord.
These backwoods bishops traveled from Maine to Georgia
and from the Atlantic to the Mississippi, on the farthest
bounds of western population, encountering every hard.
ship; and their annual visits were looked for by preachers
and people, saint and sinner, with the greatest anxiety and
pleasure.
Nothing occurred at this conference to mar the peace
and harmony which prevailed in  the itinerant ranks.
Delegates were elected to the General conference which
was to be held in the following May, and, the business
being finished, each preacher started to his field of labor.
This year I was appointed to the Lebanon district,
which was bounded as follows; namely, on the south by
the Ohio river and on the north by the lakes, including all
the territory in Michigan., My district included the Indian
mission at Upper Sandusky; and, although the mission is
not named in the Minutes of that year, I was nevertheless
chosen as superintendent. I made an appointment for a
quarterly meeting -for this mission at Zanesfield, on the
waters -of Mad river, the 13th and 14th of November,
See Methodist Magazine, 1820, page 35. Here the reader
will find an account of the first quarterly meeting ever
held among the Indians.
I commenced my work by attending two camp meetings, one of which was six miles west of Springfield.
This was a local preachers' camp meeting, at which there
were present, I think, about twenty local preachers. As
radicalism had begun to show itself, there was a considerable of prejudice against the traveling preachers. Brother
John Strange, of blessed memory, was my conductor; and
he remarked to me on the way, that it was highly probable
we would meet with a cool reception, as the local brethren




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               347
were very much prejudiced against my predecessor.
However, we journeyed on, and arrived at the camp.
ground on Friday afternoon. We said but little to any
one. On Saturday afternoon brother Joseph Tatman was
deputed to take me aside and examine me in regard to
my views of Church government. He attended to his
duty in a very Christian manner, and I presume the expositions I gave him of Methodist polity were satisfactory,
as I was waited upon, and invited to preach on Sabbath
at eleven o'clock.
The preaching hour arrived, and I was enabled to
preach with liberty.  The Lord attended the word, and
many were awakened and converted to God before the
exercises connected with that hour closed. From that
time I witnessed nothing but the kindest feeling toward
me.
The next Saturday and Sabbath the camp meeting commenced at Mechanicsburg, and this was a time of the
greatest display of God's power in the awakening and
conversion of sinners. After this I commenced my round
of quarterly meetings. At every meeting I set myself to
work to find out the exact state of religion among the officiary; and, to enable me more fully to do so, I took a list
of all the names, ahd went into a regular class meeting
examination. This was a novel procedure, but it was
made a great blessing to every official member, and before
I had passed around my district twice, it was all on fire.
0, what blessed times! The fire was soon carried out by
preachers, exhorters, leaders, and stewards, and by spring
the whole Church throughout the vast field of my labor
was in a blaze.
In the month of April I left for General conference,
which was to be held in Baltimore, in company with
orother John Collins. After twelve days of hard riding,
we reached the seat of the conference, which commenced




348            AUTOBIO GRAPHrY OF
its session the first of May. As conference progressed, it
was discoverable that there existed, unhappily, some discordant elements in the body. The- east seemed to be
arrayed against slavery, and the south against pewed
churches.  There was also another question which was of
a somewhat exciting character, and which appeared to
carry every thing before it. I allude to the election of
presiding elders. A resolution proposing a change of the
Discipline, so as to make the office of presiding elder elective, was offered by the Rev. Daniel Ostrander, and the
resolution was discussed with great zeal and ability. The
conference seemed so equally divided, it was hard to tell
which side would gain the victory. The bishops and presiding elders were mostly committed to the old plan of appointing presiding elders; and as the latter usually constituted the delegation, there was a prospect of the rule
being retained; but so vigorously did the fiiends of the
new measure contend for a change which they deemed
most in accordance with the genius of American Methodism, that it was confidently hoped they would succeed.
Before coming to a vote, a compromise was proposed by
the Rev. Ezekiel Cooper, of the Philadelphia conference,
that there should be a committee of nine appointed to
consult and report.  This committee reported, that in the
appointment of presiding elders, the bishop should have
the power to nominate two or three men for each district,
and the conference should choose from among these the
presiding elder.  This report passed by a large majority.
Rev. Joshua Soule, who had been elected bishop previous
to this action, refused to be ordained, unless the conference would reverse its action. The reason he gave was,
that in his opinion the action of the conference was unconstitutional, and he could not administer discipline undei
it. Bishop M'Kendree, who was unwell, and was -not in
conference' at the time of the passage of the report, came




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               349
in afterward with a strong remonstrance against it, and
hoped the conference would not urge its operation till it
had been sent round to all the conferences, and its constitutionality decided. After debating the question of reference for two or three days, it was, finally, by a very small
majority, suspended for four years.
At this conference the rule was adopted which required
Methodist churches to be built with free seats. This was
a quite exciting topic. When the question was raised
whether the, rule should be advisory or mandatory, it was
decided that it should only be regarded as advisory, and,
hence, such a caption was given to it. I recollect distinctly hearing the Rev. D. Ostrander say, in open conference, that it would not be twenty years before, under that
very rule, some conference would restrict the stationing
power. And I have lived to see the fulfillment of that
prophecy, in the action of the Ohio conference of 1850 at
Chilicothe.
The General conference having adjourned, we backwoods preachers directed our course homeward, and wending our way over the mountains, we reached once more
the delightful valleys of the west.
We wound up our year's work with a round of camp
meetings.  Some of these were attended with unusual
manifestations of Divine power. Of such were Rattlesnake, Honey creek, and Union camp meetings.  At the
latter we had the services of our beloved superintendents,
M'Kendree and Roberts.  The gathering of the people
was immense. They came together in the spirit of prayer,
and not for the purpose of making a display, such as
might be called a religious picnic, where families vie with
each other in showing off to the best advantage, but to
worship God exclusively, without any regard to "visits,
modes, and forms."  And such realized the desire of
their hearts. The work commenced at once, and continued




350           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
day and night with increasing power, and over one hun
dred and fifty were soundly converted to God. Milford
camp meeting was also a time of great power, there wa.
a mighty shaking among the dry bones. A leader of infidelity, renowned for his advocacy of error, was awakened
and converted, and sent out by the Spirit to bear testimony to the truth of that religion which he had reviled
White-oak camp meeting was held at Indian hill, and
was the most powerful one I had attended on the district
How many were converted I am not able to say, but the
number was large. On Sabbath I baptized one hundred
persons before nine o'clock, by sprinkling and pouring.
Brother G. W. Light wrote down the names as I announced them, and gave them to me. Among the number is the name of our beloved and lamented William B.
Christie, of whom I intend saying something hereafter.
The Revs. Augustus Eddy and Charles W. Swain, both
young preachers just entering upon their ministerial life,
were at this meeting.
Strait creek camp meeting was held soon after, and was
attended with mighty power. On Sabbath morning, while
brother John Collins was praying, the Holy Spirit came
down on us as a rushing, mighty wind, and more than one
hundred fell under the power of God; and such a time of
weeping and rejoicing I never saw before. We were
-much annoyed by the rabble, who were set upon us by
men professing to wear the garb of Christian ministers,
but more frequently by the whisky-makers and venders
themselves. Few men, in their sober senses, could bN
induced to disgrace themselves by interrupting the wor
ship of God, and those few must be besotted and imbru
ted to a degree past recovery, who would cut to pieces the
harness. saddles, bridles, tents, etc., of the worshipers,
and howl around the encampment like skulking wolves
Such creatures were sometimes handled pretty roughly bv




REV. JA  ES B. FINLEY.               351
the conservators of the peace, and they learned often, by
sad experience, that the way of the transgressor was hard.
I was solicited this year to send a minister to Detroit.
After some considerable difficulty, I obtained Rev. P. B
Morey, and sent him, with instructions to gather up the
scattered members, and form the nucleus of a circuit.
Brother Hecock, from Upper Canada, had been laboring
two years in the shore settlements, among the destitute
population.  Brother Morey returned, and brought with
him a plan of his circuit; but having contracted the fever
and ague, he was unwilling to go back.
The conference this year was held in Chilicothe, and we
were favored with the presence of all our bishops, M'Kendree, Roberts, and George. The session was characterized with great harmony, and the conference business was
transacted with great dispatch. The increase in the membership in the Ohio conference this year, was five thousand, nine hundred and twenty-two.
At this conference I was returned to the Lebanon district, and my range was from the Ohio river to the lakes,
including Detroit and the new settlements on the peninsula, besides the Wyandott mission. The Rev. John P.
KIent was sent to Detroit circuit, which extended from the
Maumee Rapids to Lake St. Clair.
It was late in the fall when I left the white settlements
to attend my first quarterly meeting at the Maumee Rapids. There was not a single habitation of a white man
from the old Indian boundary on the Scioto till we reached
the Rapids. In this route there were three Indian settle.
ments-Upper Sandusky, Big Spring, and Tawawatown,
on a branch of the Carrion river.  Through this wilderness I urged my way. I had a dismal journey through
the Black Swamp.  Two nights I lay out in the woods,
during all which time I did not see the face of a human
being.  By the help of God I at length reached my




352           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
appointment.  How changed the country and inhabitants
since I passed through in 1800 with the drove of cattle!
From a wild, desolate region, where savages roamed, now
could be seen fruitful farms, where could be found peaceful Christian families, in whose houses were erected altars
to the God of the Bible. I was hailed, by preacher and
people, with gladness, as one that bringeth glad tidings
to the ends of the earth. I had the honor of being the
first presiding elder that set his foot on the Miami of the
lakes, and had the privilege of holding the first quarterly
meeting, love-feast, or sacramental meeting ever held in
this now densely-populated country. Our meeting commenced under the most favorable auspices. The few who
came together-and there were some who had come the
distance of seventy-five miles-sat together in heavenly
places in our Lord Jesus Christ. The banner of Divine
love was spread over us. Our meeting commenced on
Friday night and continued till Tuesday morning,:Several professed religion and joined the Church. The brethren were much refreshed and built up in holy faith'.
After visiting many of the settlements, I returned through
the wilderness to the Big Spring, where I held a meeting
with the Wyandotts.:Here the subject of a mission
school was taken under consideration by the principal
men of the nation; and they had been encouraged to
think they might have two-one at Upper Sandusky and
the other at this place. I showed them the impracticability of organizing two schools, in consequence of the
expense attending them, and that they must send their
children all to one place. We had a very pleasant and
profitable meeting; but no kind of Church organization.
Ali were permitted to join in the exercises who felt disposed. The religion of the natives seemed to be a kind
of national religion.  There being no Church organization and no rules of discipline, none were called to an




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               353
account for disorderly conduct. It was perfectly obvious
to me, in this state of things, that we would be unable,
as a Church, to accomplish much of any consequence unless we could organize the Indians into a Church and administer all the ordinances of religion and all the rules of
Discipline.
During the winter the work progressed most gloriously
on the district, and multitudes were converted to God.
In the spring I started for the purpose of visiting more
thoroughly my Detroit charge. The trip was a very adventurous one. When I arrived at Lower Sandusky the
summer freshet was at its highest. I traveled alone to
the Muscalange creek, and the water covered the entire
valley from hill to hill. Unable to proceed any further, 1
went back to the town at Lower Sandusky, and hired a
Frenchman to pilot me through to the rapids of the Maumee. When he came to the creek he said it was impossible for us to get, through; so we returned, and I directed
my course up the river to Fort Ball. Leaving my horse
with a friend, I hired two young Indians to take me to
the mouth of the river in a bark canoe, so that I might at
this point get on board the steamer Walk-in-the-Water on
Friday morning.
Setting sail in our frail canoe, we darted down the
rapid river, and, when we came to the Sandusky Falls,
we sped over them like a bird. Night overtaking us before we reached the mouth of the river, we concluded to
tarry all night with an old Frenchman by the name of
Poscile, who occupied a miserable shanty on the bank,
and lived principally on muskrats. The place was dreadfully infested with fleas and musketoes.  My comrades
joined in partaking of our host's hospitalities; but I was
not sufficiently hunger-bitten to eat muskrats. To proLect myself from the foes which swarmed around me I sai
all night on a box. When daylight came we pushed off
23




854            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
our canoe and paddled on. As we reached the bay we
found the wind blowing fresh from  land and the waves
rolling too high for our little bark. The bay was five
miles wide, and, notwithstanding the boisterous weather,
the Indians were for going directly across.  To this I
objected; and we finally agreed to take the east side and
coast around.  Several times our canoe filled with water,
and we had to run ashore, pull it out, and turn it over —
then relaunching, put to sea again.  A more serious disaster befell us when we got within two hundred yards of
the shole at Goat Island.  A sudden squall upset our
bark, plunging us all in the deep. Being unable to right
up our vessel without something more substantial than
water on which to rest our leverage, we swam with our
boat to the shore.  Here we took our canoe on our
shoulders, and carrying it about a mile, we launched
again and re-embarked. We paddled on, battling with the
waves, and finally arrived within four miles of Portland.
Taking my saddle-bags on my shoulder, I walked to town,
almost exhausted for the want of something to eat. Here
I stopped at a tavern, and, ordering a room with a fire, I
emptied my saddle-bags, and, spreading their contents,
with my clothes, before it, went to bed and slept till the
sun arose next morning. Getting up, I found all my
things tolerably well dried, except my books, and, aftel
taking my breakfast, I got on board the boat, and arrived
at Detroit on Saturday morning, where I put up with my
old friend, Mr. Jeremiah Dean. At this place I received
a letter from brother Kent, informing me of his sickness
at the Rapids, and his inability to be with me. In that
letter he informed me that he had given out appointments
for me every day during the week, except Saturday and
Monday..  Thus you see, dear reader, I had work enough.
The weather was excessively hot; but, notwithstanding,
we comnmenced our meetings.  Having no church, we




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               355
worshiped in the old council-house, and the Llord was
with us of a truth. Governor Cass, my old friend, treated
me with great respect and hospitality; and also his estimable lady. Indeed, God seemed to give me favor in the
eyes of all the people. The soldiers who were stationed
here treated me with' much respect, and many of then
were awakened under preaching. Of all places in the
world, a military station is the most unfavorable to religion; and hence there was but little fruit manifested. Several came forward for prayers and were converted to God.
Had not appointments been given out for me, the meeting
could have been kept up all the week to great advantage.
Brother Abbott furnished me a horse, and I started on
Tuesday to fill the appointments which had been made.
That day I preached twice, and swam the river Ruse
three times. I then went to two or three places out north
and preached as far as Pontiac. Returning to Detroit, I
spent another Sabbath of great interest and profit to myself and many others. My soul was much united to the
dear people; for they seemed to be as sheep without a
shepherd.  On Monday  I left for Upper Sandusky.
When I arrived at Portland there was no conveyance for
me to Lower Sandusky.  After considerable search I
found an Indian, whose horse I hired. The plan was for
me to ride and the Indian to walk or run, as the case
might be. Accordingly we started.  The Indian would
run on ahead in a long trot, and then, stoppingo, he would
say, "Good horse; how much you give for him?"  I
would tell him I did not want to buy. He would then
run on again a mile or two, and, stopping, would ask the
same question. This he continued till, becoming tired of
his questions, I told him I had no money. "You lie,"
said lhe, pointing to my saddle-bags.  Then said he.
"How much you give?"  I said, "May be ten dollars."
Becoming incensed at this, he exclaimed, "You rascall




356           AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
you Knintuck! you rascal! you cheat Indian!"  Shortly
after this we came within hearing of several camps of
Indians.  As we advanced we found them in a drunken
spree, singing, dancing, and hallooing as if all bedlam
had broke loose. He asked me to turn in here and get
some "lum."  "No," said I, "you come on."- "No:
me go, and quick come."  As soon as he was gone I cut
a stout hickory stick and put the Indian pony to his best.
Soon I heard the Indian yelling behind me; but he was
not able to overtake me till I reached Lower Sandusky.
When he came up he commenced abusing me and charg..
ing me with a disposition to run off with his horse. I
told him he must stop his abuse, as I would have no
more of it.  "Did I not give one dollar for the use of
your horse?"  " Yes."  "Well," said I, "here is a half
dollar besides, to get your dinner with."  At this he
turned his tune, and said, "You good man; you no Kainiuck; you my friend!"
From this place I got a conveyance to Fort Ball, where
I found my horse, and traveled on to the Reservation,
where I met the chiefs and principal men and women of
the Wyandott nation.  I drew up a petition for them to
send to conference, which was to be held at Lebanon.
Vide History of the Wyandott Mission.
This year brother Morey was admitted on trial into the
traveling connection, and appointed to Detroit circuit,
where lie promised great usefulness to the Church; but it
pleased Him who holds the stars in his right hand, to call
him from labor to reward. The Minutes of this year show
an increase in the conference of one thousand, six hundred
and three.  This was one of the best years of my itinerant life. A petition was sent this year to the bishops for
me to be stationed at Detroit.  This petition was signed
bvy G-v. Cass, the Messrs. Hunts, and principal citizens.
In the petition they pledged themselves to pay all the,




1tEV. JAMES 1.'INLtt.             S57
expenses, and support me, besides building a church. It
was confidently believed by them, that their prayer would
be heard; but Bishop M'IKndree thought the Indian mission of more consequence than Detroit, or any other place
that might want me. Bishop Roberts was in favor of
sending me to Detroit, and the matter continued in suspense till late in the conference. My own judgment and
feelings led me to Detroit, because I believed that at that
time all the English inhabitants of the place would have
joined the Church. But the senior bishop prevailed, and
I was sent among the Indians. With regard to my moving to Sandusky, and my labors connected with the Wyandott Indians, I need only say, that the reader can refer to
the work on the Wyandott mission, and to the Magazines
of'22,'23,'24, etc. These, however, give but a brief
history of my labors and trials. Much is unwritten, but
I hope to furnish some things in this biography which are
worthy of remembrance, and full of incident.  In the
fifth volume of the Methodist Magazine, you will find a
letter to Rev. J. Soule, which will give some account of my
removal.
There being no missionary funds at that day to furnish
an outfit to the missionary, I left home in Warren county
the eighth of October, with two wagon-loads of household
goods, farming utensils, and other needful apparatus for
the commencement of mny work. After eight days' hard
traveling, we arrived at the Indian nation, and took shel
ter in a cabin newly raised, without chinking or daubing,
destitute of either chimney, window, or door. Here my
family had to live till I could build one. There were six in
the mission family-two young women, two young men 1
ha(1 hired, and myself and wife. I went to work to build
a cabin for the winter. The first week three of my hired
hands left me. Another calamity happened.  While we
were cutting down a tree for a house-log, a limb struck




8.58          AUTOBIOGRAPHIY OF
brother George Riley on the head, and I thought himl
dead for some time. Placing him on the wagon, I drove
three-quarters of a mile, and then bled him before he revived. All alone I worked every day, from daylight till
dark, till my hands were so sorely blistered I could not
sleep at night. The marks of my angers were left on the
timbers and logs from the blood which flowed all day. In
the course of a week brother Riley was able to help me.
On Sabbaths I preached at the council-house, and held
class meetings with all who would stay. On the fourth
of November we moved into our winter cabin, without
window or door, but we hung a blanket up for a shelter.
Soon as we took possession of our new home, a widow,
who had no means of sustaining her Indian children, presented us with four. We could not refuse to take these
poor children of the forest, thus thrown by Providence
upon us.
Sister Harriet Stubbs, of blessed memory, volunteered
to leave as peaceful and happy a home as could be found
in the state, with every thing to make her happy, and become the matron and instructor of the poorest of the poor
outcasts, trodden under foot by vicious white men. She
was a sister-in-law of the Hon. Judge M'Lean, of Ohio;
and although reared in the tenderest manner, yet she forsook all the advantages and blessings her station in life
secured, and espousing the cause of God's poor, fled to
the relief of suffering humanity.  She possessed more
courage and fortitude than any one of her age and sex,
that I have been acquainted with. It was but a short
time till she, the intrepid female missionary, was the idol
of the whole nation. They looked upon her as an angelmessenger, sent from the spihit-land to teach them the
way to heaven. They called her the pretty red-bird, and
were only happy in the light of her smiles.  This most
amiable young lady took charge of the Indian girls, and




RIEV. JAMES  B. FIAtELt.  39
began to teach them their letters, and infuse into them her
own sweet and happy spirit.
As spring came, some of the girls were so far advanced
as to read and speak English tolerably well. No sight
was more calculated to affect the heart than to see that
young, lovely, and accomplished girl surrounded by Indian maidens, gazing into her deep-blue eyes, and reading the love that glowed there for them, and hanging with
breathless attention upon her lips, as she endeavored to
cultivate the powers of these children of the forest, and
lead them up to the civilization of Christianity.
We spent the winter in making preparations for building
a house for the family and the school. All this we did
ourselves. We did not make the Indians our hewers of
wood and drawers of water. So constantly was I engaged, that I did not eat a single meal of victuals by the
light of the sun, except on Sabbath, during the whole
winter. We first cut our logs, then hauled them to the
saw-mill, where we staid day and night and sawed our
lumber. Brother Riley sawed all day, and I hauled the
lumber home on a wagon with two yoke of oxen; and, after
returning, we sat up and sawed alternately all night. So
we continued till we had all the lumber we wanted to
build a house twenty-four by forty-five feet, and two stories high.
In the spring I hired the splitting and putting up of
ten thousand rails, and also hired two hands to put in
our spring crop. Our school, in the mean time, increased
to thirteen children; but, as yet, we had no school-house.
Our beloved sister had a booth made in the yard, where
she taught her little flock daily. While we were doing all
we could to lay the foundation for a large school by which
to instruct the nation, we also labored to bring them to
God. It required great wisdom to manage affairs so as
not to prejudice the Indians. All the savage part of the




360           AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
nation were laboring hard to keep them in the Indian
faith, and every effort was made to get those who had
made a profession of religion to go back to heathenism.
In addition to this, whisky-sellers were increasing to an
alarming extent, and I saw it was necessary to have a
more thoroughly-organized state of society to resist these
encroachments.  So I resolved, in direct opposition to
some of the friends of the mission, to form a society on
Methodist principles. I accordingly drew up a few articles in reference to attending meeting, family and private
prayer, the observance of the Sabbath, and total abstinence from all intoxicating liquors. These things I explained so fully that they were perfectly understood; and
then I made an effort to form a class, which resulted only
in bringing out seven who were willing to live by rule.
The temperance rule made a great stir among the whiskytraders, and they tried to convince the Indians that in
thus putting their names on paper, they had signed away
their Indian liberty, and had become the slaves of the
white man.  The lines, however, were drawn, and the
national religion, which allowed a man to be drunk one
day and very religious the next, was entirely broken up.
The head chief and his secretary of war, Warpole, com
menced holding meetings every Sabbath, for the purpose
of worshiping their Indian god. Their ceremonies con.
sisted in dancing, feasting, drinking, and their chief-priest
was called upon to preach or rehearse the traditions of
their Indian god, and the mighty works an%, wonderful
words of their ancient warriors in the day of battle. This
at first drew many to worship with them. The next Sabbath I expounded my rules, showed the beneficial effects
they must produce if faithfully kept, and then opened the
doors of the Church. That day ten more joined-all ot
them of the most influential of the nation. Four of them
were principal chiefs, Between-the-Logs, Mononcue. Hicks,




REV. JAMtS B. Fi!tEt. l
and Peacock.  This separation gave an impulse to the
Christian party, and caused many to investigate religion.
The old faith was shaken.  At one time I was sent for in
the afternoon to go in haste to Between-the-Logs.  When
I arrived I found the parties had met to investigate the
religion of the Bible. After a few Indian ceremonies,
such as eating hominy and smoking, the subject was introduced by Bloody-Eyes, a notorious old drunkard.  It
lasted all night and till nine o'clock the next morning,
when the council broke. It would take a small volume
to communicate the transactions of that night.  The
speeches of some of these sons of the forest were truly
wonderful.  But suffice it to say that my adversaries,
particularly the old chief, confessed themselves hceadea
i.O every proposition.
31




83R%    B~iAUTOtIOGRAPHttY o
CHIAPTER XXI.
GREAT REVIVAL IN TIHE WEST.
IN the spring of 1800 one of the most astonishing and
powerful revivals occurred that has ever been known in
the western country. This was also the most extensive
revival that perhaps ever was witnessed in this country.
it was marked by some peculiarities which had not been
known to characterize any revival in former times. The
nearest approximation to it, of which I can form any conception, was the revival on the day of pentecost, when
tbousands were awakened and converted to God under the
most exciting circumstances.
The commencement of the revival is traceable to the
joint labors of two brothers in Cumberland county, Kentucky, one of whom was a Presbyterian and the other a
Methodist preacher. They commenced laboring together,
every Sabbath preaching, exhorting, and praying alternately.  This union was regarded as quite singular, and
excited the curiosity of vast multitudes, who came to the
places of meeting to hear two men preach who held views
in theology supposed to be entirely antagonistic. Nothing
was discoverable in their preaching of a doctrinal character, except the doctrine of man's total depravity and ruin
by sin, and his recovery therefrom by faith in Christ. All
were exhorted to flee the wrath to come, and be saved
from  their sins.  The word which they preached was
attended with the power of God to the hearts of listening
thousands. The multitudes who flocked from all parts of
the country to hear them, became so vast that no church
would hold them, and they were obliged to resort to the




REEV. JAMES B. FINLEY.              36::
fields and woods. Every vehicle was put in requisition;
carriages, wagons, carts and sleds. Many came on horseback, and larger crowds still came on foot.
As the excitement increased, and the work of conviction and conversion continued, several brought tents,
which they pitched on the ground, and remained day and
night for many days. The reader will here find the origin
of camp meetings.
In the spring of 1801 Bishop M'Kendree was appointed
presiding elder of the Kentucky district; and being thus
brought in contact with this wonderful work, he was prepared to form a correct judgment of its character. That
there were extravagances that constituted no part of religion, he was prepared to admit, but that it was all a wild,
fanatical delusion, he was very far from conceding. Nay,
he believed that it was the work of God's Spirit on the
hearts of the people, and that thousands were genuinely
converted to God.
These meetings began to follow one another in quick
succession, and the numbers which attended were almost
incredible. ~ While the meetings lasted, crowds were to be
seen in all directions, passing and repassing the roads and
paths, while the woods seemed to be alive with people.
Whole settlements appeared to be vacated, and only here
and there could be found a house having an inhabitant.
All ages, sexes, and conditions, pressed their way to the
camp meeting. At these meetings the Presbyterians and
Methodists united. They were held at different places.
On the 22d of May, 1801, one was held at Cabin creek;
the n-ext was held at Concord, in one of my faitler's old
congregations; the next was at Point Pleasant, and the
succeeding one at Indian creek, in Harrison county. At
these meetings thousands fell under the power of God, and
cried for mercy. The scenes which successively occurred
at these meetings were awfully sublime, and a genera.




364            A'tOtIOG1 GAPRYI'OF
terror seemed to have pervaded the minds of all people
within the reach of their influences.
The great general camp meeting was held at Cane Ridge
meeting-house. This house was built for my father, and
here was my old home. I have elsewhere described this
meeting, or, rather, attempted to do so. Language is
utterly impuissant to convey any thing like an adequate
idea of the sublimity and, grandeur of the scene. Twenty
thousand persons tossed to and fro, like the tumultuous
waves of the sea in a storm, or swept down like the trees
of the forest under the blast of the wild tornado, was a
sight which mine own eyes witnessed, but which neither
my pen nor tongue can describe.
During the religious exercises within the encampment,
all manner of wickedness was going on without. So deep
and awful is man's depravity, that he will sport while the
very fires of perdition are kindling around him. Men,
furious with the effects of the maddening bowl, would
outrage all decency by their conduct; and some, mounted
on horses, would ride at full speed among the people. I
saw one, who seemed to be a leader and champion of the
party, on a large, white horse, ride furiously into the praying circle, uttering the most horrid imprecations. Suddenly, as if smitten by lightning, he fell from his horse.
At this a shout went up firom the religious multitude, as if
Lucifer himself, had fallen.  I trembled, for I feared God
had killed the bold and daring blasphemer. He exhibited
no signs whatever of life; his limbs were rigid, his wrists
pulseless, and his breath gone. Several of his comrades
came to see him, but they did not gaze long till the power
of God came upon them, and they fell like men slain in
battle. I was much alarmed, but I had a great desire to
see the issue. I watched him closely, while for thirty
hours he lay, to all human appearance, dead. During
Hnis time the people kept up singing and praying. At last




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               368
he exhibited signs of life, but they were fearful spasms,
which seemed as if he were in a convulsive fit, attended
by frightful groans, as if he were passing through the
intensest agony. It was not long, however, till his convulsions ceased, and springing to his feet, his groans were
converted into loud and joyous shouts of praise.  The
dark, fiend-like scowl which overspread his features, gave
way to a happy smile, which lighted up his countenance.
A certain Dr. P., accompanied by a lady from Lexington, was induced, out of mere curiosity, to attend the
meeting. As they had heard much about the involuntary
jerkings and falling which attended the exercises, they
entered into an agreement between themselves that,
should either of them be thus strangely attacked or fall,
the other was to stand by to the last. It was not long till
the lady was brought down in all her pride, a poor sinner
in the dust, before her God.  The Doctor, agitated, came
up and felt for her pulse; but, alas! her pulse was gone.
At this he turned pale, and, staggering a few paces, he
fell beneath the power of the same invisible hand. After
remaining for some time in this state, they both obtained
pardon and peace and went rejoicing home.  They both
lived and died happy Christians. Thousands were affected
in the same way.
These camp meetings continued for some time, the
Presbyterians and Methodists uniting together as one in
the army of the  Lord.  Some ministers had serious
doubts concerning the character of the work; but its
genuineness was demonstrated by the fruits. Men of the
most depraved hearts and vicious habits were made new
creatures, and a whole life of virtue subsequently confirmed the conversion. To all but Methodists the work
was entirely strange.  Some of the peculiarities had been
witnessed before by the preachers, and they were enabled.
to carry it on.




366           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
These meetings exhibited nothing to the spectator unacquainted with them but a scene of confusion, such as
scarcely could be put into human language. They were
generally opened with a sermon or exhortation, at the
close of which there would be a universal cry for mercy,
some bursting forth in loud ejaculations of prayer oi
thanksgiving for the truth; some breaking forth in strong
and powerful exhortations, others flying to their careless
friends with tears of compassion, entreating them to fly to
Christ for mercy; some, struck with terror and conviction,
hastening through the crowd to escape, or pulling away
from their relations, others trembling, weeping, crying for
mercy; some falling and swooning away, till every appearance of life was gone and the extremities of the body
assumed the coldness of death. These were surrounded
with a company of the pious, singing melodious songs
adapted to the time, and praying for their conversion.
But there were others collected in circles round this-variegated scene, contending for and against the work.
Many circumstances transpired that are worthy of note
in reference.to this work. Children were often made the
instruments through which the Lord wrought. At one
of these powerful displays of Divine power, a boy about
ten years old broke from the stand in time of preaching
under very strong impressions, and having mounted a
log at some distance, and raising his voice in a most
affecting manner, cried out, "On the last day of the feast
Jesus stood and cried, If any man thirst, let him come
unto me and drink." He attracted the main body of the
congregation, and, with streaming eyes, he warned the
sinners of their danger, denouncing their doom, if they
persevered in sin, and strongly expressed his love for the
salvation of their souls, and the desire that they would
turn to God and live. By this time the press was so great
that he was taken up by two m3n  and held above the




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               367
crowd. HIe spoke for near an hour with that convincing
eloquence that could be inspired only from heaven; and
when exhausted, and language failed to describe the feelings of his soul, he raised his handkerchief, and dropping
it, cried, " Thus, 0 sinner, will you drop into hell unless
you forsake your sins and turn to God." At this moment
the power of God fell upon the assembly, and sinners fell
as men slain in mighty battle, and the cries for mercy
seemed as though they would rend the heavens, and the
work spread in a manner which human language can not
describe.
We will now try to give something in reference to the
manner and the exercise of mind of those who were the
subjects of this work. Immediately before they became
totally powerless, they were sometimes seized with a general tremor, and often uttered several piercing shrieks in
the moment of falling. Men and women never fell when
under this jerking exercise till they became exhausted,
Some were unable to stand, and yet had the use of their
hands and could converse with companions. Others were
unable to speak. The pulse became weak, and they drew
a difficult breath about once a minute. In many instances
they became cold. Breathing, pulsation, and all signs of
life forsook them for hours; yet I never heard of one who
died in this condition, and I have conversed with persons
who have laid in this situation for many hours, and they
have uniformly testified that they had no bodily pain, ana
that they had the entire use of their reason and powers
of mind. From this it appears that their falling was
neither common fainting nor a nervous affection. Indeed,
this strange work appears to have taken every possible
turn to baffle the conjectures and philosophizing of those
who were unwilling to acknowledge it was the work of
God. Persons have fallen on their way home from meet
ing, some after they had arrived at home, others pursuing




368            AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
their common business on their farms, and others when
they were attending to family or secret devotions. Numbers of thoughtless, careless sinners have fallen as suddenly as if struck by lightning. Professed infidels, and
other vicious characters, have been arrested, and sometimes at the very moment when they were uttering their
blasphemies against God and the work, and have, like
Saul, declared that to be God's work which they so vehemently persecuted.
I trust I have said enough on this subject to enable my
readers to judge how far the charge of enthusiasm and
delusion is applicable to this work, unequaled for powei
and for the entire change -of the hearts and lives of so
many thousands of men and women. Lord Lyttleton, in
his letter on the conversion of St. Paul, observes, and I
think justly, that enthusiasm  is a vain, self-righteous
spirit, swelled with self-sufficiency and disposed to glory
in its religious attainments. If this be a good definition,
there was as little enthusiasm  in this work as any other.
Never were there more genuine marks of that humility
which disclaims the merits of its own works, and looks to
the Lord Jesus Christ as the only way of acceptance with
God.  Christ was all and in all in their exercises and
religion, and their Gospel, and all believers in their highest attainments seemed' most sensible of their entire dependence upon Divine grace; and it was truly affecting to
hear with what anxiety awakened sinners inquired for
Christ as the only Physician who could give them help.
Those who call this enthusiasm ought to tell us what they
understand by the spirit of Christianity. Upon the whole,
this revival in the west was the most extraordinary that
ever visited the Church of Christ, and was peculiarly
adapted to the circumstances of the country. Infidelity
was triumphant, and religion at the point of expiring.
Something  of an extraordinary nature was necessary to




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                  369
arrest the attention of a wicked and skeptical people, who
were ready to conclude that Christianity was a fable and
futurity a dream.  This great work of God did do it.  It
confounded infidelity and vice into silence, and brought
numbers beyond calculation under the influence of experimental religion and practical piety.
It is generally known that in the early settlement of
Kentucky, the regular Baptists were by far the most numerous body of Christians. It is also known that they
adhered most rigidly to the doctrines of unconditional
election and reprobation, together with the final and unconditional perseverance of the saints.  The same may be
said of the Presbyterians, who firmly maintained and
preached these doctrines till the commencemeht of this
revival. Indeed, the doctrine of unconditional election
and reprobation was so generally taught by these denominations, that there was rarely found any one sufficiently
fearless and independent to call them in question. They
had taken deep root, and it might be said the doctrines
of Calvin had filled the whole country. During the prevalence of these doctrines, supported as they were on all
sides by polemical divines, whose religion seemed to consist almost entirely of a most dogged and pertinacious adherence to the creeds and confessions of faith, which had
been handed down from orthodox Puritan fathers, it was
not a matter of surprise that professors of religion, losing
sight of the weightier matters of the Gospel, while they
attended to its "anise, and mint, and cuminin," would
fall inisensibly into antinomianism. The inconsistency of
the doctrines of Calvin became the subject of the sarcastic sneers of infidels, and the inability of these Churches
to reconcile their doctrines with the justice of God and
the present order of things, made fearful inroads on the
cause of Christianity, and strengthened the hands of the
wicked.  The friends of the truth were few.  They were
24




370            AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
without influence, and much persecuted; but, notwith
standing, they lifted up their voice.
It was at this juncture, and under these circumstances,
that it pleased the Lord to look down upon the western
country.  Man's extremity was God's opportunity, and
the wonderful manifestation of Divine power swept away
antinomianism, and infidelity, and every refuge of lies.
There were some in the Presbyterian Church wbo did not
preach a partial Gospel, but who lifted up their voice like
a trumpet, and invited all to come to Jesus for salvation,
assuring them that he died for fall. Of this number was
that man of God, Carey Allen. As a missionary he was
"a flame of fire," and thousands were awakened under
his fervent, soul-stirring appeals.
]Not long after the revival commenced, several of the
Presbyterian ministers renounced Calvinism, and being
persecuted by their brethren, they left the Church, and
organized a new Presbytery, which was called the Springfield Presbytery. As is often the case with those who
separate from the Church because they judge it needs reformation in doctrine or discipline, so these brethren, unfortunately, did not stop in media res, but rushed to another extreme.  They ran into gross errors and heresies,
as was seen in their apology for renouncing the jurisdiction of the Synod, the tract on the atonement by Mr.
Stone, in 1804, and their sermons. Methodists and Presbyterians both saw that an enemy had come in, and was
sowing tares broadcast over the field, and they retired to
their own stands, and defended their own doctrines.
The party which had separated were styled Newlights,
hut they have subsequently taken the name of Christian.
In June, 1804, these preachers dissolved their Presbytery,
and drew up a very curious paper, which they signed, entitled "The last Will and Testament of the Springfield
Presbytery."   Of the six ministers who signed  thlis




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                 371
paper. two went back to the Presbyterian Church, three
joined the Shakers, and one the Campbellites.  They pub
lished to the world, in the paper above alluded to, their
belief; or, in other words, their non-belief, for they re.
nounced all creeds, confessions of faith, and standards of
doctrine, and started out on a crusade against all the
Churches.
Several of these ministers were my school-mates in
other days, and I felt a lively interest in them; so much
so, as the reader will find, in the relation of my religious
life, given in the preceding pages, I went to their camp
meeting on Eagle creek to join them. By a personal and
confidential interview with one of the preachers, a former
old class-mate at my father's academy, I learned that they
did not believe in the doctrine of the Trinity, nor in total
depravity, nor in the atonement, as held by orthodox
Churches. Honest David Purviance, in his life, comes
out boldly, and proclaims the doctrines of the Newlirht
Church.
This heresy spread and prevailed. The early settlers
of Kentucky were most skeptical on the subject of religion. The more influential classes of citizens were infidel
in sentiment, and they labored to bring all to their views.
To accomplish their wishes more fully, they employed an
Englishman to take charge of their seminary of learning
at Lexington. He had an extensive library, and, from his
position, exerted a great influence in society.  Subsequently, the principal of the seminary was elected Secretary of State.  The Governor, Mr. Garrard, was a celebrated Baptist preacher, and a gentleman of much
respectability and.influence. It was not long till the Secretary succeeded in converting the Governor to his faith;
and, having accomplished a result so desirable to the infidel party, the next thing was to get the Governor to pubistl a tract on the doctrine of the Trinity. ThiO made




372           AUIOBIoGRAPHY  OF
considerable noise. In 1802 the Rev. Augustin Easton
and Governor Garrard commenced a meeting on Cooper's
run, in Bourbon county. Here they proclaimed publicly
the Arian and Socinian doctrines. The wavering separatists were excited and encouraged wonderfully by this
movement, as is evident from their own confession and
subsequent course.  These unfortunate people-New
lights-from  the time they first began to preach their
doctrines, were beset in their meetings with those wild exercises that have been alluded to. See Benedict's History
of Baptist Church, vol. ii, p. 252.
These strange exercises that have excited so much
wonder in the western country came in toward the last
of the revival, and were, in the estimation of some of the
more pious, the chaff of the work. Now it was that the
humiliating and often disgusting exercises of dancing,
laughing, jerking, barking like dogs, or howling like
wolves, and rolling on the ground, manifested themselves.
To add to their misfortune, being ripe for such a catastrophe, a company of Shakers from New York found their
way among them, and proselyted their most talented and
useful preacher and not a few of their members. These
fanatics for a season went on with a tremendous influence,
threatening to sweep all before them. But they, like all
other wild and visionary people, had their day.
If the reader should desire to find what the Newlights, or Christians, teach, he will best obtain it from
their own works. I refer the reader to Barton Stone's
exposition, in pamphlet form.
The wild vagaries adopted by the Newlight preachers
of Kentucky prepared them to gulp down all the ridiculous tenets of Shakerism, and this produced a general
skepticism in that state, that, I fear, will not be done
away for generations.  It may seem  strange that all,Trades of Arians and Sociniais llave adopted immersiop




REv. JAMES 13.  INtLE-.               73a
as tLe only mode of baptism, and regard it as constituting
a title to heaven.
The new isms that followed this great revival were
many, and it seemed as if Satan had taken advantage of
the excitement to drive the bewildered into darkness ana
the sanguine into error and folly.  The Shakers drew off
hundreds with them. Elder Holmes rose up with his pilgrims, and started out in quest of the Holy Land.  He
had many followers, and, after wandering about for some
time, died on an island in the Mississippi river, and his
band dissolved.  Elder Farnum, also another fanatic,
pretended to have received the spirit of immediate inspiration, and raised a party called the "screaming children." After flourishing for a season, this association
dwindled away. Next came A. Sargent and his twelve
disciples-all women. It was spread over the country
that he was inspired and conversed with angels daily,
hrom whom he received revelations.  Then Elias Hicks,
the Quaker, espoused Arianism, and split the Quaker
Church, spreading confusion and schism every-where
among the Friends.
Last, but not least in the train of evils, came Kidwell
with the last edition of Universalism.  He taught that
there was no hell, no devil, no future judgment; that it
was impossible for any one to commit any crime in this
life that would possibly shut him out of heaven; that all
souls at death enter at'once into the heavenly state, and
are happy with God forever, no matter how they have
lived in this world.




374            AUT013iOGIRA1aPV 01
C I APTER XXII
NARRATIVE CONTINUED.
I CONTINUED at the Wyandott mission till the fall of
1827, having been engaged in the work of this mission
for a period of five years. The reader will see that when
[ visited that nation there were but few who professed
Christianity, and none who were members of the Church
and regular observers of its ordinances. From a small
Church organization, which I was enabled to effect, the
society gradually increased till its numbers amounted to
two hundred and sixty, and these were divided into
classes. For an account of the condition and prospects
of the mission just before I was called away from it, I
refer the reader to the report of Judge Leib to the Secretary of War, which was made to the Government in 1826,
as found in the " History of the Wyandott Mission," pp.
367; 368.
At the conference of 1827 I was appointed to the Lebanon district, where I labored two years, and at the end
of which time I was sent to Cincinnati station. The Radical secession had taken place under the administration of
my predecessor, the Rev. John F. Wright, and Cincinnati
was any thing else but a desirable appointment.  After
remaining in the station two years, I was placed upon the
district, and after remaining two years, was returned to
the station, and the Rev. Thomas A. Morris succeeded me
on the district. In the mean time, brother Morris being
appointed editor of the Western Christian Advocate, I
was again placed on the district.




IEVY. JAMES B. FINLEY.               375
After this I was appointed to Chilicothe district, -where
i remained two years, at the expiration of which time I
was sent to the Lebanon district, where I remained three
years. My next appointment was Dayton district, where
I labored four years.
Many incidents occurred during my labors on Lhese
respective fields; but it would be impossible to relate
them, as it would occupy entirely too mufch space.
During my labors on the Dayton district an inciden;
occurred which I must relate, because it is due to the
many to whom I promised an account of it that it should
be published in my biography.
It was in the summer of 1842.  Worn down with
fatigue, I was completing my last round of quarterly
meetings, and winding up the labors of a very toilsome
year. I had scarcely finished my work till I was most
violently attacked with bilious fever, and it was with great
difficulty I reached home. The disease had taken so violent a hold on my system that I sank rapidly under its
power. Every thing that kind attention and medical skill
could impart was resorted to, to arrest its ravages; but
all was in vain, and my life was despaired of.  On the
seventh night, in a state of entire insensibility to all
around me, when the last ray of hope had departed, and
my weeping family and friends were standing around my
couch waiting to see me breathe my last, it seemed to me
that a heavenly visitant entered my room. It came to my
side, and, in the softest and most silvery tones, which fell
like rich music on my ear, it said, "I have come to conduct you to another state and place of existence." In an
instant I seemed to rise, and, gently borne by my angel
guide, I floated out upon the ambient air. Soon earth
was lost in the distance, and around us, on every side,
were worlds of light and glory.  On, on, away, away
from world to luminous worlds afar, we sped with tlhe




376            AUT TonioGRAPt~ bP
velocity' cf thought.  At length we reached the gates of
paradise; and 0, the transporting scenes that fell upon
my vision as the emerald portals, wide and high, rolled
back upon their golden hinges!  Then, in its fullest
extent, did I realize the invocation of the poet:
"Burst, ye emerald gates, and bring
To my raptured vision
All the ecstatic joys that spring
Round the bright Elysian."
Language, however, is inadequate to describe what'hen, with unvailed, eyes, I saw.  The vision is indelibly
pictured on my heart. Before me, spread out in beauty,
was a broad sheet of water, clear as crystal, not a single
ripple on its surface, and its purity and clearness indescribable.  On each side of this lake, or river, rose up the
most tall and beautiful trees, covered with all manner of
fruits and flowers, the brilliant hues of which were reflected in the bosom of the placid river.
While I stood gazing with joy and rapture at the scene,
a convoy of angels was seen floating in the pure ether of
that world.  They all had long wings, and, although they
went with the greatest rapidity, yet their. wings were
folded close by their side. While I gazed I asked my
guide who they were, and what their mission. To this he
responded,'"They are angels, dispatched to the world
from whence you came on an errand of mercy."  I could
hear strains of the most entrancing melody all around me,
but no one was discoverable but mny guide.  At length I
said, "Will it be possible for me to have a sight of some
of the just made perfect in glory?"  Just then there came
before us three persons; one had the appearance of a
male, the other a female, and the third an infant. The
appearance of the first two was somewhat similar to the
angels I saw, with the exception that they had crowns
upon their heads of the purest yellow, and harps in their




REV. JAMES 13. FINLEY               3.77
hands. Their robes, which were full and flowing, were
of the purest white. Their countenances were lighted up
with a heavenly radiance, and they smiled upon me with
ineffable sweetness.
There was nothing with which the blessed babe or
child could be compared. It seemed to be about three
feet high. Its wings, which were long and most beautiful, were tinged with all the colors of the rainbow. Its
dress seemed to be of the whitest silk, covered with the
softest white down. The driven snow could not exceed it
for whiteness or purity. Its face was all radiant with glory;
its very smile now plays around my heart.  I gazed and
gazed wi'h wonder upon this heavenly child.  At length
I said, "If I have to return to earth, from whence I came,
I should love to take this child with me, and show it to
thb. weeping mothers of, earth. Methinks, when they see
it, they will never shed another tear over their children
when they die." So anxious was I to carry out the desire
of my heart, that I made a grasp at the bright and beautiful one, desiring to clasp it in my arms, but it eluded my
grasp, and plunged into the river of life. Soon it rose up
from the waters, and as the drops fell from its expanding
wings, they seemed like diamonds, so brightly did they
sparkle. Directing its course to the other shore, it flew
up to one of the topmost branches of one of life's fair
trees.  With a look of most seraphic sweetness it gazed
upon me, and then commenced singing in heaven's own
strains, "To Him that hath loved me, and washed me
from my sins in his own blood, to him be glory both now
and forever. Amen."  At that moment the power of the
eternal God came upon me, and I began to shout, and,
clapping my hands, I sprang from my bed, and was healed
as instantly as the lame man in the beautiful porch of the
temple, who "went walking, and leaping, and praising
God."  Overwhelmed with the glory I saw and felt, I
32




378             AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
could not cease praising God. The next Sabbath I wen
to camp meeting, filled with the love and power of God.''here I told the listening thousands what I saw and felt,
and what God had done for me, and loud were the shouts
ol glory that reverberated through the forests.
Though years have rolled away since that bright, happy
hour, yet the same holy flame is burning in my heart, and
I retain the same glorious victory.  "Halleluiah! for the
Lord God omnipotent reigneth."
Being entirely restored to health, I went to conference,
and was sent on the Zanesville district. Here, after many
years, I returned to the same place from whence I started
as from a point to travel round my first circuit. Old
brother Spangler, whose hospitalities I first, and often subsequently, enjoyed, has long since left us, and I trust is
now  in heaven.  Some of his family remain.  David
Spangler, Esq., a talented lawyer, resides in Coshocton.
He was always a stanch friend of his father's people;
and the same may be said of Isaac Spangler, a distinguished physician of Zanesville. Several of the daughters were Methodists, and perhaps are living still.  Then
Methodism was small and feeble, but Jacob has arisen and
become strong. This city has some of the firmest Methodists: Moorehead, and Millis, and Howard, and the
Coxes, Brush, and others, are an honor to any Church.
Long may they live to honor God and Methodism!
I remained on the Zanesville district two years, and,
at the request of the directors of the Ohio penitentiary,
was appointed chaplain to that institution, where I remained three years and a half. A full account of my
labors in that' institution the reader will find in "( Prison
Life."
In 1.850, my health being feeble, I took a superannuated
relation, in hopes that rest would prepare me again for
active service.




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               379
The uext year I was made effective, and appointed tG
Yellow Springs. Again I took rest for another year, and
now, in the 72d year of my age, I have charge of Clintonstreet Church, Cincinnati.
In the year 1845 the Wyandott nation, whom I adopted
as my people, and who constituted me a chief of one of
their tribes, were removed to the Indian territory beyond
the Mississippi.
It is a melancholy reflection, that all those powerful
tribes which once inhabited these plains, roaming at fieedom where we now reside, and who sped with their light
canoes over the surface of our rivers, the monarchs of all.
they surveyed, have now no claim whatever even to the
graves of their fathers.  A dark and dismal fate rests
upon them, and in their native land they are rapidly fading away beneath the gaze of the pale face.
Mrs. Catharine Walker, the amiable and talented wife
of the Rev. Geo. W. Walker, has written some beautiful
lines occasioned by the removal of the Wyandotts; and
knowing that they will be interesting to my readers, I subjoin them. They are thus appropriately introduced by the
writer:
"But solemn thoughts intrude upon these pleasing reflections of the past.  Many of those veteran warriors,
who became soldiers of the cross, have been called by the
Captain of their salvation, to lay down their arms in the
Christian warfare, and go to that rest which remains foi
his people, gathered fiom every nation, kindred, tongue,
and people. But the remnant of brethren and children
which they left below, and with whom they suffered and
worshiped here, where are they? They had comfortable
homes and fertile lands, and were enjoying all the blessings of the Gospel in civilized life; but the white man
coveted their possessions, and they must go to the far-oft
western wilds, again to be exposed to all the temptations




38Q0              AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
and trials incident to savage life.  May the God of m:s
sions be with them!
"Go, fated Indian, to the farthest verge
Of earth's remotest shore;
There let the night-bird sing thy dirge,
When thy weary wandering's o'er.
Go sit upon the ocean's brink,
And in its solemn moan,
Fit music for thy broken heart,
Forget thy distant home.
But the white man's foot is on thy track,
As the blood-hound seeks the hare;
Then arise, and scale some barren rock,
For the white man will not spare.
Go dwell upon some craggy peak,
Where the eagle makes her nest,
And eternal snows are drifting downThere thy weary foot may rest.
Away from where thy kindred sleep,
Beneath a frigid sky;
Where the wintery blast will freeze thy tears.There lay thee down and die.
Cast not a look to thy native land,
But to that blissful shore,
Where oppression's sigh is never heard,
And thou shalt weep no more."




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               381
CHAPTER XXIII.
SKETCH OF BISHOP ASBURY, THiE  FOUNDER OF
AMERICAN METHODISM.
IN the autumn of 1771 FRANCIS ASBURY, after a voyage
of two months in crossing the Atlantic, landed on our
shores. His place of debarkation was Philadelphia. The
venerable founder of Methodism, who had already been
here on a mission, but had returned without having accomplished, to any great extent, the objects for which he
came, and who still felt his heart stirred within him for
the spiritual welfare of his brethren in this far-off, western
world, made a call for volunteers at the conference in
Bristol. This call was responded to by Francis Asbury.
That Providence which has ever presided over the
Church perhaps was never manifested more signally, so
far as Methodism in America is concerned, than in the
selection, at that time, of an agent whose peculiar fitness
for the work of organizing, giving direction, and imparting
efficiency to the system of means already set in operation
for evangelizing this continent, was so marked.  His
early religious training, under the guardianship of a pious
mother, to whose memory he pays a merited tribute, and
the formation in youth of those habits of piety which
enter so essentially into the elements of all true greatness
in Christian character, admirably qualified him for the
work upon which he was about to enter. And here we
would remark, that few men, either in Church or state,
have been distinguished for goodness or greatness whose
early religious training has been neglected.




382            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF'
Youihg Asbury was early inspired with religious emo.
tions, and his youthfiul mind was imbued with religious
principles ere he had passed the first decade of his life.
His autobiography informs us that he was a diligent student of the Bible at seven years of age.  The brutality
of his schoolmaster, though it drove him from school,
had the effect of driving him to God in prayer and of increasing his love for the Scriptures, thus exemplifying the
truth that the wrath of man sometimes works out the
purposes of God. At the age of fourteen he was awakenened under the sermon of a Methodist preacher, to
whose meeting he was directed by his mother.  In regard
to this meeting he says, "I soon found it was not' the
Cliurch;' but it was better.  The people were so devout-men and women kneeling down, saying amen.
Now, behold! they were singing hymns.  Sweet sound!
Why, strange to tell, the preacher had no prayer-book;
and yet he prayed wonderfully! What was yet more extraordinary, the man took his text and had no sermonbook. Thought I, this is wonderful indeed! It is certainly a strange way, but the best way."
To a great degree, a cold, heartless, and Christless theology characterized the sermons of "the Church" at that
day.  In the providence of God, through the instrumentality of Methodism, a warm spiritual life was infused into
these dead forms, and awakening power roused them into
action. No sooner had he felt the power of regenerating
grace, and had come up to the possession of that "confidence and assurance in Christ" of which he heard the
Methodist preacher speak, and which appeared to himn, at
that time, wholly inexplicable, if not a species of fanaticism unwarranted by the Bible, than he felt an irrepressibie desire to communicate the glad and joyous intelligenice to others.  Nor was it long till, at his fathei's
4ehoise, lie held a meeting, and poured oiut the treasures




REV. JAMES B. FI.NT,EY.            383
of his full heart upon the consciences of those who were
present, several of whom were awakened and converted.
At the age of seventeen he became a local preacher,
and traveled extensively, visiting every place within his
reach, and preaching from three to five times every week.
When he had reached his majority he gave himself up
deliberately and fully to God and his work. About this
time he felt his heart strangely drawn toward America,
and made it a matter of constant and earnest prayer that
he might be directed, in this respect, in all things agreeable to the will of God. Having consecrated himself
wholly to the Lord, he was prepared to enter upon any
work Providence should assign him, or visit any field,
however distant; yet he was careful to ascertain the indications of Providence in that regard, lest, as he says, "he
might run before he was sent."
Methodism had already been planted in America. The
work of God which, under the Wesleys and their coadjutors, had spread throughout England, Wales, and Ireland,
resulted in the organization of societies and the raising up
of holy men to preach the Gospel to the scattered and persecuted flocks in those countries.  Several of these emigrated to America, and amongf the number were Embury
Webb, Strawbridge, Williams, King, Boardman, and Pilmoor. These men were instrumental in preaching the
Gospel and planting Methodism in New York, Fredericli
c.ounty, Md., Norfolk, Philadelphia, and elsewhere. As heraids, they had prepared the way, and the seed which they
sowed was, by the providence of God, cast in good places,
and, like the "handful of corn on the top of the mountain," has been springing up and multiplying, till, like the
cedars of Lebanon, the spacious branches and goodly fruit
now spread over all the land.
Asbury, upon his arrival at Philadelphia, immediately
sotered upon his work. He was gladly received by ths




334           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
brethren, and hailed as a colaborer in the great field.  To
an untiring zeal he added the most consummate prudence
He was a Methodist both in spirit and practice, adopting
for his own government a most rigid method, by which he
divided his time between prayer, study, preaching, traveling, and even extended his regime to eating and sleeping,
and labored to impress upon preachers and members all
the peculiarities so important to Methodist economy. He
had not been long in this country till he received a letter
from Mr. Wesley, appointing hipm general assistant of the
work.  This honor he received with a meekness characteristic of the man. Tl'he Church was then small and
feeble, and Methodism was a term of reproach; but still
it was an honor to have the leadership of that little and
despised band.. The motives to ambition which now exist
were not then to be found.  To travel fiom thirty to forty
miles a day in rain or snow, over lough roads, on horseback, and preach twice or thrice, sometimes without food,
and at night find shelter in a log-cabin or a barn, or frequently in the wilderness without any shelter, did not
offer many inducements to aspirants for episcopal honors.
There was then no "college of bishops," whose support
was secured bv a mammoth Book Concern and Chartered
Fund, and who colrld in a few days reach their most distant appointments on velvet cushions, in cars supported
by gutta percha springs, or in floating palaces, which
plowed the deep at the rate of twenty knots an hour.
Notwithstanding all this, however, we are thankful-truly
thankful-that there has been a change, and, above all,
that Methodism has kept pace with the mighty progress
of this enterprising age. It is with a spirit of admiration
that we can look up to those venerable and holy men who
occupy the bench of bishops, with the most implicit confidence in their piety and fidelity and with a certain know!
edge of the fact that their office is no sinecure, but one




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               385
which calls for and receives at the hands of the present
incumbents a greater amount of self-sacrificing devotion
than that of any other office in Church or state.
And we rejoice, too, that we have a Book Concern-a
mammoth Concern, if the reader please-taking rank with
any individual Concern in the country, and larger, by far,
than any similar Church establishment.
In 1784, in company with Dr. Coke and others, Asbury
was consulted in regard to the propriety of organizing the
societies into an independent Methodist Episcopal Church,
with superintendents, elders, and deacons. In regard to
the superintendency, his reply was, "If the preachers
unanimously choose me, I shall not act in the capacity I
have hitherto done by Mr. Wesley's appointment." The
result of the conversation was the call of a General:conference to meet in Baltimore the ensuing Christmas. At
this conference he and Dr. Coke were unanimously elected
to the superintendency. Till this time Asbury was an unordained minister, and as the Church had now taken a
separate existence, it was necessary he should receive
orders, for the purpose of perpetuating the ministry and
of conferring upon those who gave evidence of a call and
qualification to preach the Gospel the authority to administer the sacraments. Accordingly, Dr. Coke being a
presbyter of the Church of England, assisted by two elders, successively conferred upon him the orders of deacon
and elder, and at the same time, by the imposition of
hands, set him apart for the office of a superintendent in
the Methodist Episcopal Church.
Soon after conference he started out upon his work,
traveling on horseback, in one journey, five hundred
miles, and preaching on the way. He relates a pleasing
interview which he had in this journey with General
Washington, who gave him, without hesitation, his opin.
ion against slavery.'25




386           AUT OBI O'G RAP HY  OF
In that early day of the Church- in this cnuntry, the
subject of collegiate as well as academical and common
school education was not lost sight of by the pioneers of Methodism.  Coke was an Oxonian himself, as
well as the founders of Methodism, and the project of
founding a college in this country was dear to his heart.
Although Asbury was not what is denominated a classical
scholar, so far, at least, as the literary degrees in cursae
are concerned, yet it is evident from his journal that he
was well versed in the original language of the New Testament and possessed of a good share of critical acumen
in pulpit exegesis. As a lover of learning and a devoted
student of Biblical and theological literature, he readily
sympathized with the Doctor in the enterprise of founding
a college, and gave it his countenance and hearty support.
At the laying of the corner-stone of Cokesbury College
at Abington, he delivered an eloquent discourse from the
following words of the seventy-eighth Psalm: 4" We will not
hide them from their children, shewing to the generation
to come the praises of the Lord, and his strength, and his
wonderful works that he hath done. For he established a
testimony in Jacob, and appointed a law in Israel, which
he commanded our fathers, that they should make them
known to their children: that the generation to come
might know. them, even the children which should be
born; who should arise and declare them to their children:
that they might set their hope in God, and not forget the
works of God, but keep his commandments: and might
not be as their fathers, a stubborn and rebellious generation; a generation that set not their heart aright, and
whose spirit was not steadfast with God."
From this it could be seen that, whatever our enemies
may say to the contrary, our Church in this country, from
its earliest organization, has given unmistakable evidence
of her appreciation of and devotion to the interests of




IREV. JAMES B. FINLEY.              387
sanctified literature.  This we trust, however, to make
appear more fully and at large in the biographies ot our
distinguished men of the past an3 present, with which we
hope to enliven our pages and edify our readers.
Methodist preachers have hitherto been regarded, by a
certain class, not only as destitute of education themselves, but as enemies of learning, especially of a learned
ministry, and have frequently been slighted, if not sneered
at, by those who had no other qualification for the ministry, and were not particularly burdened with that. On a
certain occasion Asbury visited New Haven, the seat of
Yale College. The -appearance of a Methodist preacher
there excited curiosity, and he had many students out to
hear him, besides President Styles and other clergymen.
When he had finished his discourse not one of the clergy
deigned to speak to him. This reminded him of Whitefield's remark to Boardman and Pilmoor at their first
coming to America: "If ye were Calvinists ye would
take the country before ye." Notwithstanding this cold
neglect, he visited the college chapel at the hour of prayer
and expressed a desire to inspect the interior arrangements; but no one invited him. This is not the first
time, nor has it been the last, that these self-styled "efficient" ministers of the Gospel have shown their boorishness in the treatment of Methodist preachers. In this
respect, however, "temnpora mutantur," and they have
been obliged to change with the times. To such conduct,
however, toward Methodist preachers there are honorable
exceptions —men of strength, and power, and piety, who
do not consider it a want of self-respect, or a lowering
down of dignity, or a sacrifice of caste, to associate with
and treat the humble "circuit rider" with Christian
respect.
Cokesbury College, the child of those two distinguished
men whose names it bore, opened into life as a bright and




388            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
beautiful boy, the pride and joy of its parent's heart.  1h
was truly and emphatically the child of the Churclh.
Bright, however, as wefe its prospects, and favorable as
were the auspices under which it entered upon its career',
yet, like the most precious things of life, often the earliest
doomed, it was, in the providence of God, only allowed a
brief destiny.  Though early smitten, and the Church
was called upon to mourn over the ashes of Cokesbury
College, yet its spirit survived, and its metempsychosis
may be seen in the numerous institutions of learning with
which the Church is blessed in all parts of the country.
While Asbury manifested so much interest in schools
and colleges, he did not neglect a personal attendance
upon the instruction of the children in families, but dili.
gently catechised them in every house where he went.
This important part of a Methodist preacher's duty, and
one which enters into the solemn injunction of his ordination vows, occupied a more prominent place in the good
Bishop's ministrations and those of the early pioneers of
Methodism, perhaps, than of the preachers of the present
day.
It may be remarked that Sunday schools are vastly
more extended, efficient, and systematic in their operations now than at that period, and this may constitute the
reason for such laxity in regard to the catechetical instruction of the children by the preachers. This, however,
should not be, as no Sunday school instruction can supply
its place or prove an excuse sufficient to justify the shepherd in neglecting to feed the lambs of his flock. While
on this subject we may take occasion to remark, that
Asbury early identified himself with the Sunday school'
cause, and that to him is justly due the honor of having
established the first Sunday schools in America. In a
pamphlet which professes to give the origin and history
of Sunday schools in America, it is stated "that the first




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.              389
Sunday school organization in the United States of which
we have any authentic record was the First-Day or Sundat School Society, which was established in Philadelphia
in 1791."  Now, it is a fact well authenticated, but
strangely overlooked, that Bishop Asbury organized a
Sunday school in Hanover, Virginia, in 1786, five years
before the one in Philadelphia; and it is also a fact that
one year before this organization the Minutes of the conference contain the following questions and answers:
" Question. What can be done to instruct poor children,
white and black, to read?
"Answer. Let us labor as the heart and soul of one
man to establish Sunday schools in or near the place of
public worship. Let persons be appointed by the bishops,
elders, deacons, or preachers to teach gratis all that will
attend and have a capacity to learn, from six o'clock in
the morning till ten, and from two o'clock in the afternoon
till six, where it does not interfere with public worship.
The council shall compile a proper school-book to teach
them learning and piety."
The subject of our sketch was a man of most pacific
spirit, and while he was removed from every thing like
intolerance on the one hand, he was ready to go all
lengths, where integrity and principle were not compromised, to conciliate the esteem of those who were in any
degree alienated or felt themselves aggrieved, and spared
uo labor or sacrifices to cast oil upon the troubled waters
of partisan strife. Nothing grieved him more than the
unhappy excitement and division gotten up by O'Kelly
and his coadjutors. In answer to the complaints alleged
against him for exercising his episcopal prerogative, ir
preventing O'Kelly from becoming a fixture in a certain
locality where he had worn out all his influence and usefulness, he says, "I have little to leave except a journey
of five thousand miles a year, the care of more than one




390            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
hundred thousand souls, and the arrangement of about
four hundred preachers yearly, to which I may add the
murmurs and discontent of ministers and people. Who
wants this legacy?  Those who do," he adds, "are wel.
come to it for me. The Methodists acknowledge no superiority but what is founded on seniority, election, and long
and faithful services. For myself, I pity those who can
not distinguish between a Pope of Rome and an old, worn
man of sixty years who has the power given him of riding
five thousand miles a year on horseback, at a salary of
eighty dollars, through summer's heat and winter's cold,
traveling in all weather, preaching in all places, his best
covering from rain often but a blanket, the surest sharpener of his wit hunger, from fasts voluntary and involuntary, his best fare for six months of the twelve coarse
kindness, and his reward, from  too many, suspicion,
envy, and murmurings all the year round."
Such, however, were only occasional shadows darken.
ing his otherwise bright and happy pathway.  His general experience may be summed up in his own words:
"Close communion with God, holy fellowship with the
Father and his Son Jesus Christ, a will resigned, frequent
addresses to a throne of grace, a constant and serious
care for the prosperity of Zion, forethought in the arrangements and appointments of the preachers, a soul
drawn out in ardent prayer for the universal Church, and
the complete triumph of Christ over all the earth."
As an evidence of his sincere attachment and disinterestedness, it may be remarked, that he never made an
appointment of any of the preachers either with a view to
afflict them or to gratify any feelings of personal prejudice on the one hand, or of affection on the other, nor
would he allow such influences from his council to beai
upon the appointment of any of the preachers.
The preachers were dear to his heart, and he do,




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                391
made them the subject of his prayers and tenderest solicitude To his care for the preachers might be added the
care of all the Churches.  By correspondence and otherwise, when he could not visit them personally, he kept
himself posted in regard to all the interests of Zion. The
conferences then were usually seasons of great religious
interest, and as the miscellaneous business was small at
that time compared with the present, the regular minute
business was soon dispatched, and more time was allowed
for religious exercises.
The worth of souls lay near his heart, and he was not
satisfied unless he was conscious sinners were awakened
and converted through his instrumentality.  Once, after
having traveled hard through a western wilderness, to
reach a quarterly meeting on his way to a distant conference, he was unusually tempted at not having seen, for
some time, any direct evidence of his personal labor in
the conversion of souls. He felt inclined to the belief
that his mission had expired, and he had better retire from
the work. With this depression of spirit he entered the
love-feast on Sabbath morning, in a rude log chapel in the
woods, and took his seat, unknown to any, in the back
part of the congregation.  After the usual preliminary
exercises had been gone through with by the preacher, an
opportunity was given for the relation of Christian expe-.
rience. One after another testified of the saving grace
of God, and occasionally a verse of some hymn was sung,
full of rich and touching melody. The tide of religious
feeling was rising and swelling in all hearts, while a lady
rose whose plain but exceedingly neat attire indicated that
she was a Methodist.  Her voice was full and clear,
though slightly tremulous. She had traveled many miles
to the meeting, and her feelings would not allow her to
repress her testimony.  She remarked that she had not
long been a follower of Christ.  " Two years ago," saia




392           AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
she, "I was attracted to a Methodist meeting in oui
neighborhood by being informed that Bishop Asbury was
going to preach. I went, and the Spirit sealed the truth
he uttered on my heart. I fled to Jesus, and found redemption in his blood, even the forgiveness of my sins,
and have been happy in his love ever since.'Not a cloud doth arise to darken my skies,
Or hide for a moment my Lord from my eyes."'
She sat down, and ere the responses which her remarks
had awakened in all parts of the house had died away,
Bishop Asbury was on his feet. He commenced by remarking that "he was a stranger and pilgrim, halting on
his way for rest and refreshment in the house of God,
and that he had found both; and," said he, with uplifted
hands, while tears of joy coursed each other freely dowr
his face, "if I can only be instrumental in the conversion
of one soul in traveling round the continent, I'll trave)
round it till I die."
As an Englishman, he loved his father-land, and frequently expressed his grief at the war which then existed
between England and the United States; yet he had
adopted the latter, and, though many of the preachers
had returned to England, unwilling to sympathize with
the cause of American liberty, he warmly espoused it,
and was firm in his adherence to the republicanism of
Washington.  On the occasion of receiving a letter from
Mr. Wesley on the subject of the war, he remarks, "I
am extremely sorry that the venerable man ever dipped
into the politics of America. My desire is to live in love
and peace with all men, to do them no harm, but all the
good I can. However," he adds, "it discovers Mr. Wes
ley's attachment to the government under which he lives.
Had he been a subject of America, no doubt he would
have been as zealous an advocate of the American cause,
But some inconsiderate persons have taken occasion to




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               393
censure the Methodists in America on account of Mr
Wesley's political sentiments." As a further evidence of
his republicanism, it may be remarked, that at the New
York conference in 1789 he offered for the consideration
of that body the following proposal; namely, "Whether
it would not be proper for us, as a Church, to present a
congratulatory address to General Washington, who has
been lately inaugurated President of the United States, in
which should be embodied our approbation of the Constitution, and professing our allegiance to the government."
To this the conference unanimously acceded, and an address was prepared and read by Asbury to Washington
and his cabinet. To this address the President made a
reply, expressive of thanks for the stand taken by the
Church in the cause of American liberty. The address
and the answer were published in the papers of the day,
and soon after other Churches followed the example.
For Washington the Bishop had a high regard, which
was strengthened by a personal acquaintance of many
years; and when the sad intelligence came to him that the
father of his country was no more, he entered the follow-.
ing in his journal:
" Slow moved the northern post on the eve of NewYear's day, and brought the heart-distressing information
of the death of Washington, who departed this life December 14, 1797. Washington, the calm, intrepid chief,
the disinterested friend, first father, and temporal savior
of his country under Divine protection and direction! A
universal cloud sat upon the faces of the citizens of
Charleston; the pulpits clothed in black; the bells muffled; the paraded soldiery; a public oration decreed to be
delivered on Friday, fourteenth of this month; a marble
statue to be placed in some proper situation; these were
the expressions of sorrow and these the marks of respect
paid by his feeling fellow-citizens to the memory of this




394            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
great man.  lam disposed to lose sight of all but MWashington. Matchless man! At all times he acknowledged
the providence of God, and never was he ashamed of his
Redeemer. We believe he died not fearing death. In
his will he ordered the manumission of all his slaves-a
true son of liberty in all points."
It is with a very ill grace, to say the least of it, that certain partisan theologians have charged the early Methodist
preachers with being opposed to the war with Great Britain and the republican principles of which Washington
was the great champion. We admit that some of them
did manifest opposition, and prudently returned to England; but that the great body of them were firm and
zealous supporters of the republic, none but the most
hopelessly prejudiced can entertain a reasonable doubt.
With Asbury, the great apostle of Methodism  in America, this was particularly the case, as his whole history
abundantly shows.
It is known that the Bishop never married.  This state
was not to him, however, one of choice, but necessity,
and those who hear his reasons for not entering into the
marriage relation will be satisfied of the propriety of his
course. He says, "If I should die in celibacy, which I
think quite probable, I give the following reasons for
what can scarcely be called my choice. I was called
in my fourteenth year. I began my public exercises between sixteen and seventeen; at twenty-one I traveled;
at twenty-six I came to- America. Thus far I had reasons
enough for a single life.  It had been my intention to
return to Europe at thirty years of age; but the war continued, and it was ten years before we had settled, lasting
peace. This was no time to marry or be given in marriage. At forty-nine I was ordained superintendent or
bishop in America.  Among the duties imposed upon me
by my office was that of traveling extensively, and I




REV. JAMIES B. FINLEY.
could hardly expect to find a woman with grace enough
to enable her to live but one week out of the fifty-two
with her husband; besides, what right has any man to
take advantage of the affections of a woman, make her
his wife, and, by a voluntary absence, subvert the whole
order and economy of the marriage state, by separating
those whom neither God, nature, nor the requirements of
civil society permit long to be put asunder? It is neither
just nor generous. I may add to this, that I had little
money, and with this little administered to the necessities
of a beloved mother till I was fifty-seven. If I have
done wrong, I hope God and the sex will forgive me. It
is my duty now to bestow the pittance I may have to
spare upon the widows, and fatherless girls, and poor
married men."
Our limits will not allow us to extend much further this
brief sketch, and we must, therefore, bring it to a close.
Coke and Whatcoat, the colleagues of Asbury in the
episcopacy, had ceased from their labors and entered into
rest. Wesley, too, the venerable founder of Methodism
and father in God of the Church, had closed his long and
laborious career upon earth, and entered upon the rest
and blessedness of heaven. Asbury stood alone, like a
venerable tree left by the woodman's ax to proclaim the
ancient glory of the forest. Incessant traveling on horse.
back an average of five thousand miles a year, exposed to
all the changes of climate and variations of temperature,
together with the immense anxiety growing out of the
care of all the Churches, in labors more abundant, if possible, than the tireless Wesley, preyed heavily upon his
constitution.
After he had passed his "threescore and ten," he
transferred to the gifted M'Kendree the principal burden
of visiting the conferences.  As it is interesting to trace
the religious experience of this venerable man, in his




8396           AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
journal we find the following: " My soul is blessed with
continual consolation and peace in all my great weakness
of body, labor, and crowds of company. I am a debtor
to the whole continent, but more especially to the northeast and south-west. It is there I usually gain health,
and generally lose in the south and center. I have visited the south thirty times in thirty-one years. I wish to
visit Mississippi, but am resigned. My eyes fail. I: wil]i
resign the stations to Bishop M'Kendree. It is the fiftyfifth year of my ministry and forty-fifth year of labor in
America. I die daily; but my consolations are great. I
live in God from moment to moment." This was his last
entry in his journal.  How like the sun at its setting did
his mind expand with holy emotions and benevolent sympathies! The mellow light of his experience and example shone out clearly and calmly over the goodly tents of
Jacob as he was gently sinking into rest.
In the sunny south, on the 21st of March, 1816, on a
bright and beautiful Sabbath, the dying patriarch was
seen to raise his hands when speech had failed, as a token
of victory through the blood of the Lamb, and then,
reclining his head upon the faithful Bond, his traveling
companion, without a struggle he breathed his last"As fades the summer cloud awayAs sinks the gale when storms are o'er."
The personal appearance of Bishop Asbury presented
nothing remarkable. His form was slight, but erect, and
hence dignified and graceful.  He had a vigorous constitution, and hence an elastic step. His eye was stern and
bright. His countenance was strongly marked, with features expressive of decision, energy, sagacity, and benignity, shaded, at times, by an expression of deep anxiety,
if not depression. And, to conclude in the language of
one in regard to his character, "His parallel for practical
sense and practical energy can scarcely be found. As a




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                 397
ruler of state or a commander of armies he would have
ranked among the greatest men of history; and if ever an
impartial ecclesiastical history of this nation is written,
Francis Asbury, as well for his personal character as foi
being the chief founder of its largest religious organiza.
tion, will occupy a position in it above the competition of
any other name whatsoever."




39S           OAr TOBIOGRAPHY  OF
CHAPTER XXIV.
SKETCH OF BISHOP M' KENDREE.
I HAVE already alluded to the camp meeting which I
attended in the summer of 1809, on the farm of the Rev.
John Collins, on the east fork of the Little Miami. To
this meeting the tribes of Methodism from all parts of the
country repaired. It was the annual celebration of the
feast of tabernacles, under the Christian dispensation. I
had passed the Red Sea of repentance, and the wilderness
of doubt and uncertainty, and now I was prepared to take
my family and tabernacle on Mount Zion with the people
of God. The distance we had to travel was about thirty
miles, mostly through an unbroken forest. It cost something then to enjoy the means of grace; not too much,
however, for their value. When obtained, they were appreciated in proportion to their cost, and richly enjoyed.
In good season we arrived. Just before reaching the consecrated spot, our attention was arrested by the clear and
melodious strains of the children of Zion, singing that
memorable camp meeting song,
"Stop, poor sinner, stop and think,
Before you further go;
Will you sport upon the brink
Of everlasting woe?"
A large number of people. had collected already upon
the ground, and had pitched their neat, white canvas
tents. The preachers' stand was filled with ministers, the
most of whose faces were familiar to me. There was one,
however, who was a stranger.  He had a noble, dignified appearance, and seemed to be somewhat above the




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                399
commnon stature.  He was evidently in his prime, though
beyond the middle age of life. His voice had a sweetness
and compass that were remarkable.  There was great
symmetry in his features.  His forehead was expansive;
eyes dark, but beaming with the fire of intelligence. Luxuriant rolls of dark hair covered his head, and his general
appearance would at once impress a stranger with the idea
of his being an extraordinary man.
When he rose to give out the hymn, every eye was
turned toward and riveted upon him. Indeed, I felt as
if some supernatural being was going to address us. The
hymn being sung we kneeled down for prayer; and such an
address to the throne of the heavenly grace I never heard
before. There was a simplicity and earnestness about it
truly -surprising.  It seemed as though he was talking
face to face with God, as a child with its father. Every
heart was interested in' that prayer, and it seemed as if
heaven had come down to earth.
When he arose he announced for his text John iv, 24:
"God is a Spirit, and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth." Every word that fell
from the lips of the sainted M'Kendree was devoured
by the eager multitude. There was but one mind and one
heart. That one mind received all the truths that were
uttered, and that one heart beat responsive to those truths.
I can not possibly describe my own feelings on the occasion. I had taken a position in front of the speaker, sc
that I might have a full and uninterrupted view of his
person. Never was I so entertained. I could see nothing
but the speaker; I could hear nothing but his voice.
While I listened I was unconsciously drawn, as if by some
magic spell, toward the preacher; and when he closed, to
my astonishment I found myself within a few feet of hintm.
All around me was the most intense excitemer t-loud
shouts of glory and cries for mercy-yet I knew it not, i




400           AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
heard it not, till the preacher ceased, and the charm was
broken. 0, it was a heavenly time! and it seemed to me
that I was quite on the suburbs of glory, drinking full
draughts from that "river the streams whereof make glad
the city of God."
That afternoon brother Axley came to me and said,
"Bishop M'Kendree desires to see you at his tent."
"But," said I, "I have no acquaintance with him."
"Then I will introduce you," said Axley. So I went to
the tent and was introduced. I felt greatly embarrassed
on approaching the Bishop; but the ease and cordiality
with which he received me at once banished all my fears,
and inspired me with confidence. After brother Axley
retired, he commenced conversing with me with as much
familiarity as if he had known me all my life. He asked
me in regard to my family, and many other things, and
how long I had been a professor of religion. He also
asked me if I had not been exercised in regard to preaching the Gospel. Though a stranger, he gained at once my
fullest confidence, and I opened to him all my heart, spoke
of my experience, conflicts, trials, and frankly informed
him that I could not think myself qualified for the work
of the ministry. He then conversed with me as man
never did before, and as man never can again. There
was an overpowering sweetness in his manner and words,
that filled me with love and reverence for the man that
lasted all through his life. I wept like a child, and telling
him I was ignorant, and lived in the wilderness where
there was no one to guide me, he laid his hand gently on
my head and said, "My son, be of good cheer; God will
supply you with fathers and mothers in the Gospel."
Such a manifestation of regard for me completely overcame me, and from that moment I felt that this venerable
man would treat me as a son in the Gospel; and fiom that
day on till the day of his death, no man lived, except my




t31V. JAMES B1.. tVILE ~M.          401
ither. who had so strong a hold upon my heart, and in
whom I could so implicitly confide, or one whom I felt
myself so implicitly bound to obey, as this amiable minister of Jesus. I never saw any thing during his life whicn
would lead me to suppose that he did not feel for me as a
son in the Gospel. Throughout the meeting he frequently
called me to his tent, and conversed with me in the most
free and unrestrained manner.
An incident occurred at this camp meeting of a deeplythrilling character, and one which produced an entire
change in my views in regard to the qualifications necessary to partake of the holy communion. I supposed that
only such as were converted, and were the children of
God by faith in Christ Jesus, were entitled to a place at
the Lord's table.  There accompanied us to the camp
meeting a young lady.  To the graces of her person, for
she was charmingly beautiful, were added a brilliant mind.
She was an amiable and lovely girl, the pride of the neighborhood. Scarcely had we arrived on the ground ere she
was convicted. During Saturday and Sunday she seemed
to be in the most extreme agony of mind. Her prayers
and tears excited the sympathy of all hearts.
On Monday morning the sacrament of the Lord's supper was to be administered. After singing,
"Glory to God on high I
Our peace is made with Heaven;
The Son of God came down to die,
That we might be forgiven,"
the ministers were all invited around the table to partake
of the holy emblems. The venerable Bishop offered the
consecratory prayer, and then distributed to the under
shepherds the bread and wine. It was a deeply-solemn
time.
A solemn stillness reigned around, only broken by a
dleep sigh or a half-suppressed sob, while one after another
26




402           AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
of thatl arge congregation came to celebrate the scenes of
Gethseinane and Calvary. Nearly in front of the Bishop,
beyond the altar, stood the weeping penitent, reclining her
head upon the shoulder of a converted sister, and sobbing
as if her heart would break, while she gazed upon the
scene. Her appearance and manner attracted the attention. of the benevolent M'Kendree, and looking toward her
he said, "My child, come here and kneel at the foot of
the cross, and you shall find mercy."
"Do you think," said she, through her tears, "so vile
a sinner as I may venture to approach the sacramental
board, and take in my unholy-hands the emblems of the
Savior's dying love?"
"Yes, my child; it was just for such sinners as you
the blessed Jesus died, and while writhing in his last agonies, be demonstrated his willingness and power to save
by taking the penitent malefactor with him to heaven."
"Then I'll go to Jesus," said she; and hurrying to the
table she fell upon her knees and cried aloud to God.
With streaming eyes the Bishop administered the bread;
and just as her lips tasted the wine of the sacramental
cup, pardon was communicated, and heaven sprung up in
her heart. Instantly she rose to her feet, and her face
shining like that of an angel, while, with an eloquence
that went to every heart, she told the simple story of the
cross, and the wondrous power of Christ to save. All
seemed to partake of the common joy of that renewed
spirit.
The same fall I was admitted into the traveling connection, and every year, till his last visit to our conference,
ihe called to see me, or I was with him. In 1811 he was
at my camp meeting on Knox circuit, in company with his
venerable companion, Bishop Asbury. From this camp
meeting I accompanied him to Xenia. On this tour he
preached in Granville, and the Calvinists sent him a note




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.              403
requesting him to preach his principles in full. This he
did to their satisfaction; and, in addition thereto, as a
work of supererogation, gafve an exposition of Calvinism.
After the discourse, three elders of the Presbyterian
Church came to his lodgings, and attacked him with great
zeal. In a short time, however, they were so completely
confounded that they went away ashamed of the inconsistencies of their doctrines.  The next evening he had an
appointment at Franklinton, near Columbus, where he
preached in the old log court-house.  The ensuing day
we started on our journey in the rain, and getting lost in
the Darby Plains, we wandered about all day, and at
night, finding a cabin, we took up lodgings.
No man, perhaps, ever made more rapid advancements
in grace and gifts than did AI'Kendree. After his conversion, which was in the thirtieth year of his age, he went
on with giant strides from grace to grace. He was evidently designed by the great Head of the Church as a
leader among the armies of Israel; and after becoming
most thoroughly acquainted with practical itinerancy in
the wilds of the west, he was prepared to enter upon
episcopal duties and services with a heart touched with
itinerant trials.
The circumstances connected with the election of
M'Kendree to the episcopacy, were of a somewhat interesting character. When he visited the General conference as a delegate from the west, having been so long absent from the east, he was not generally known.  On the
Sabbath before the election for a bishop was to take place,
he was appointed to preach in the Light-street Church,
Baltimore.
"The house was crowded with strangers in every part,
above and below, eager to hear the stranger; and among
others, most of the members of the General conference
were present, besides a number of colored people, whe




404           AtT.OBIOGIAPH1Y  OF
occupied a second gallery in the front end of the church
Mr. M'Kendree entered the pulpit at the hour for comru
mencing the services, clothed in very coarse and homely
garments, which he had worn in the woods of the west,
and after singing he kneeled in prayer. As was often the
case with him when he commenced his prayer, he seemed
to falter in his speech, clipping some of his words at the
end, and occasionally hanging upon a syllable as if it were
d fficult for him to pronounce the word. I looked at him,
not without some feelings of distrust, thinking to myself,'I wonder what awkward backwoodsman they have put in
the pulpit this morning, to disgrace us with his mawkish
and uncouth phraseology.' This feeling of distrust did
not forsake me till some minutes after he had announced
his text, which contained the following words:'For the
hurt of the daughter of the people am I hurt; I am black;
astonishment hath taken hold on me. Is there no balm in
Gilead; is there no physician there? Why, then, is not
the health of the daughter of my people recovered?'
Jeremiah viii, 21, 22.
"His introduction appeared tame, his sentences broken
and disjointed, and his elocution very defective. He at
length introduced his main subject, which was to show the
spiritual disease of the Jewish Church, and of the human
family generally; and then he entered upon his second
proposition, which was to analyze the feelings which such
a state of things awakened in the souls of God's faithful
embassadors: but when he came to speak of the blessed
effects upon the heart of the balm which God had provided for the'healing of the nations,' he seemed to enter
fully into the element in which his soul delighted to move
and have its being, and he soon carried the whole congregation away with him into the regions of experimental
religion.
"Remarking upon the objections which some would




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                40O
male to the expression of the feelings realized by a person
fully restored to health by an application of the'sover
eign balm for every wound,' he referred to the shouts of
applause so often heard upon our national jubilee, in commemoration of our emancipation from political thralldom,
and then said,'How much more cause has an immortal
soul to rejoice and give glory to God for its spiritual deliverance from the bondage of sin!' This was spoken
with a soul overflowing with the most hallowed and exalted feelings, and with such an emphasis, that it was like
the sudden bursting of a cloud surcharged with water.
The congregation was instantly overwhelmed with a
shower of Divine grace from the upper world. At first,
sudden shrieks, as of persons in distress, were heard in
different parts of the house; then shouts of praise, and In
every direction sobs and groans. The eyes of the people
overflowed with tears, while many were prostrated upon
the floor, or lay helpless on the seats. A very large, athletic-looking preacher, who was sitting by my side, suddenly fell upon his seat, as if pierced by a bullet, and I
felt my heart melting under emotions which I could not
well resist.
" After this sudden shower, the clouds were dispersed,
and the Sun of righteousness shone out most serenely and
Delightfully, producing upon all a present consciousness
of the Divine approbation; and when the preacher descended from the pulpit, all were filled with admiration of
his talents, and were ready to'magnify the grace of God
in him,' as a chosen messenger of good tidings to the lost,
saying in their hearts,'This is the man whom God delights to honor.'"
This sermon, according to the prediction of Bishop Asbury, secured his election.
No man ever made more full proof of his ministry than
did the laborious M'Kendree. For twelve years he filled




406            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
the office of a presiding elder, and for nearly twoonty-sever
years he filled the more important and responsible office
of bishop.  In the midst of all the trying scenes through
which he was called to pass, he manifested the greatest
devotion to the Church. It may be said of him, as a presiding officer, that the utmost impartiality characterized
all his official acts.
When it became evident that the work of this great and
good man was finished, his character shone out more and
more clear, and, like the sun at setting, the graces of
M'Kendree were more fully developed as he was nearing
the horizon of time; and, like that sun, which', on the eve
of a calm, quiet summer day, goes gently down in a
cloudless sky, so sweetly sank the dying saint.  The last
response of this faithful watchman on Zion's walls, tc hls
companion-watchers, was, " All is well, all is well!"




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.              40O
CHAPTER XXV.
SKETCH OF REV. DAVID YOUNG.
TIlE father and mother of the Rev. David Young were
both of Scotch descent. The ancestors of his father be.
longed to the clan of the Campbells, and tradition says it
was not for convenience but for safety that they went over
to the north of Ireland; and some century and a half
since some of them suffered extremely in the celebrated
siege of Derry.
His grandfather came to North America, and landed at
Newcastle, Delaware, in 1742, his father then being one
year old, and moved westward into the neighborhood of
Havre de Grace, perhaps on the place where Hughes's
Iron Works were afterward erected, and which were
burned by the British in the last war.
His father settled in Bedford county, Virginia, where
young David was born, March 7, 1779, and the next
year he removed to Washington county, in the same
state, where David was raised, in a place and at a time
where and when religious privileges and experience were
very little known or prized. His father belonged to High
Eirk, and his mother thought there was nothing like the
Erskines and their secession. They both were firm believers in the Westminster Confession of Faith and Fisher's Catechism. The old gentleman had a good library
for the times, where the son could at least examine one:
side of the question between Churchmen and Dissenters,
alnd Calvinists and Arminians, and this he was careful 1o
do, as the sequel will show.




408            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
He was ta lght the Lord's Prayer, and the Creel, and
Catechisms, both "shorter" and "longer," and he could
repeat them with great fluency when quite a small boy.
This was thought too wonderful, and the way he was
praised might inspire any thing but humility. He says in
a communication to me, "Among the earliest recollections
of my life the thoughts of invisible beings and agencies
were the most common and important. The beings called
God and devil, the places called heaven and hell, the
things called death, judgment, and eternity, were the
subjects of my childish meditations, thousands of times
before I was five years old."
In the summer of 1786 he went to meeting with some
of the family, and during the first prayer was so deeply
convicted that he had sinned against God, his King and
Savior, that his heart was melted, and he wept in bitterness of soul. But shame quenched his feelings and tears,
and he relapsed into indifference. From this time till the
fall of 1790 there was nothing very uncommon in the exercises of his mind. At that time, however, he was powerfully awakened by the Holy Spirit; and though there
was nobody that he knew who prayed in secret, yet it was
his constant practice for nearly a year. Those were dark
times in religion. Possibly, if he had been blessed with
the company of some one to have taken him by the hand
and directed him in the right way, he might have been
kept from falling away. Many a child no older have I
seen happy in God's love, and there is nothing to prevent
dl young children from being truly pious. He broke
through the restraints his parents imposed, particularly
by desecrating the Sabbath day, and made continuouf
efforts to throw off the influences of the Holy Spirit. He
did not, however, succeed in his rebellion. In February,
1796, being sent one evening, with some other boys, to
fix the boiling apparatus for making maple sugar, they




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.              409
had a brand of fire with them, and, passing by an exceedingly large poplar-tree, whose roots projected far out above
ground, one of them being hollow, they put the fire-brand
to an aperture seven or eight feet from the trunk, and discovered a very strong draught of air ascending up the hollow tree. It suddenly caught fire, and in a few minutes
blazed out sixty or seventy feet high, where one of the
forks had fallen off and left free vent to the air. In a
short space of time brother Young lay down on the
ground to peep in the hole, and saw the lava running
down in a stream as thick as his arm. The heat was so
intense that the light partly blinded him. At that juncture the remaining fork of the tree, weakened by the fire,
snapped off with a great noise. He sprung to his feet,
and ran with all the speed that fear could inspire. By
the time this great branch of the tree struck the ground
he was sixty-three feet from the stump of the poplar,
having providentially passed under this great half-tree
beyond where its fork fell on the ground. Nothing struck
him except the burning bark, which flew off and crushed
him down to the earth amidst its fiery coals. If he had
lain still at the root of the tree no evil would have befallen him. The other boys, however, came and pulled
him up out of the fire. They found him by his groans,
with his clothes some burnt, and his hat cut through in
two or three places, and his head all in a gore of blood,
together with his collar-bone broken.  Unprepared for
death, how narrowly did he escape!
His father was a farmer in easy circumstances, and
attended to the education of his children; and so well had
David improved his opportunities, that when time had
legally made him his own master, he taught a grammar
school two years in Hawkins and Sullivan counties, Tenn.
On the 27th of June, 1803, he left his father's, in Virginia, and went to what was then called the "far west,'"




AUTOBIOGlRAPHY  OF
now Middle Tennessee. Sunday, August 14th, the Methi
odists had a quarterly meeting on Mill creek, near Green
1Hills, where were assembled a strange mixture of people.
Among the rest were what have since been called the
"Cumberland Presbyterians," who seemed to be as numerous and as busy as the others. It was impossible to
tell who had the direction of the meeting; but they
preached and prayed very well. David, however, left on
Tuesday, and went to a dance.
Afterward, while riding all alone, thinking about the late
quarterly meeting, he meditated on some of the awkward
expressions in the prayers of the new converts. - His pride
said, or the devil told him, that he could pray better himself. So he made a form of prayer for them, and succeeded in putting his form into words. At that moment
this query rushed into his mind, "What are you doing?"
This inquiry turned a pleasant evening into gloomy horror, and, in lieu of making prayers for others, he began to
pray for himself with all the faith and earnestness in his
power, accompanied with a flood of tears. From this
time he prayed morning and evening, with strange and
indescribable feelings and opposition. A stranger in a
strange land, he was afraid to pray near the people's
houses, lest he should be seen; he dare not go far off, lest
the snakes in the cane-brake would bite him; and when he
went out into the lanes the devil made use of the horned
cattle to drive him from his devotions. Previously -the
Lord had converted some of his relations who dwelt in
Western Tennessee. When he got among them he was
encouraged.  Attending their meetings, when called on
he prayed with and for them, though his own sins were
not yet forgiven. His poor soul was in great distress,
and his constant cry was, " What shall I do to be saved?"
He strove about twenty-seven days to "enter in at the strait
gate." His heart condemned him, and he knew that " God




REV. JAMES B. FINL-EY.               411
was greater than his heart," and would also condemn him
With these views and feelings he went to another "big
meeting," as they were then called, Friday, September
16th, and Sunday, 18th. There was a mighty shaking
among the people, while he stood condemned, distressed,
and in the agonies of indescribable anguish, not to say
distraction.;- He could neither sleep nor eat, under an impression, right or wrong, that unless he obtained peace
with God before the meeting closed, he must perish eternally. God, who pities the distressed, pitied him, and enabled him, by faith in Jesus Christ, to trust in his blood.
He was astonished at the effects of simple faith, and was
transported with the joys of believing.
On the 19th of September, 1803, between nine and
ten o'clock, A. M., the Lord spoke peace to his soul.  He
walked out in the woods, and the trees reminded him of
this injunction, " Clap your hands 1"  All nature seemed
joyous, and, as grace had brought peace and harmony to
his heart, so all visible objects seemed to partake of the
blissful change. Christians need not expect, however, to
be exactly alike in their experience. Luther and Bunyan
in this respect differed widely from most of their followers
who were real Christians.
Being desirous to see his parents, he returned to his
father's in Virginia, on the last day of October, 1803,
ripped off his ruffles, and cut off his long hair, and remained in that vicinity a few weeks, an astonishment and
a by-word to all his former acquaintance. He returned to
Tennessee, and resumed his occupation, April 1,'1804,
and pursued the business of teaching till admitted into
the traveling connection.  But during this period his
mental exercises were powerful, mostly with respect to
his call to preach the Gospel.  Many an anxious day and
sleepless night did he pass through. These conflicts were
mostly like other men's, perhaps, except that he was more




412           AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
unyielding than common; for it is certain he never would
have been a Methodist preacher if he had not believed that
his soul would be lost unless he became one. His understanding and conscience forbade him being any thing else.
His mother, sister, and brother William were all happily
converted to God during the summer of 1804t, which
served as an incentive to his piety. In this year that
strange disorder "the jerks" overran all Western Tennessee. It attacked the righteous and the wicked-an
involuntary muscular exercise, which drew the subjects
affected backward and forward with a force and quickness perhaps previously unknown to the human family.
Five hundred of these subjects might sometimes be seen
in one congregation, all in various motion, from twitching
the head up to bending the whole body-first backward,
and then forward, the head nearly touching the ground
forward and backward alternately. Some people thought
it belonged to, if it did not make a part of, the Christian
religion, others that it was the work of the devil; and
brother Young thought that the devil had a hand therein,
to bring religion into disrepute.
The wildness which seems to have been generated
about Cane Ridge, Kentucky, spread down south in company with the jerks, having first made Newlights, as
Stone and Purviance, and Shakers, as Dunlevy and
M'Nemar. At the same time the Methodists and Presbyterians had a kind of union, based on the opinion, it
would seem, that every body would suddenly be good,
and Disciplines and Creeds would be needed no more.
The Methodists revived their Discipline, and saved most
of their people. The Newlights and Shakers made havoc
with the Presbyterians, and what is now called the
"Cumberland Presbyterians" made a great breach in the
Church.
Rutherford county, where he resided, was a frontier set




RETV. JA'ES  N. FNLEY.        418
fiement at that time; so he was graciously almost out of
the noise and hearing of all religious tumults. Their misfortune was, to have almost no kind of religion in their
neighborhood; so they tried to preach, exhort, and pray,
James Rucker and himself. God owned their endeavors,
and there were about one hundred and fifty who professed
religion on Stone's river and Smith's Fork during the
summer of 1805; but they were not in the Church; so
they got one of the Nashville circuit preachers to come
out and form them into classes, pledging himself to take
them into the circuit next year. Being recommended by
one of these classes, without quarterly meeting, circuit,
or station, brother Young was admitted on trial in the
traveling connection by the following document; namely:
"To DAVID YOUNG,-You think it your duty to call
sinners to repentance. Make full proof hereof, and we
shall rejoice to receive you as a fellow-laborer.
"' LEWIS GARRET.
" September 7, 1805."
This may be a literary curiosity to some of the boys
of the present day, who think the Methodist Episcopal
Church can not make a traveling preacher unless they
first localize him. The next Western conference sat in
Scott county, Kentucky, October 2, 1805, at which he was
appointed to Salt River and Shelby circuit. But Wayne
circuit having but one preacher on it, brother Young was
changed to Wayne circuit, in the south side of Kentucky.
This was done by the concurrence of William Burke and
William M'Kendree, as the case seemed absolutely to
require it. On the last week in October, a sacramental
meeting was held at the Beach meeting-house, near
William M'Gee's, Western Tennessee, where he first saw
that great and good man, William M'Kendree, whose
equal in every respect has not yet adorned the Methodist




414            A UTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
Episcopal Church; and yet, by some fatality, no man
~furnishes us with his memoirs. He gave him the plan of
his circuit, and on the first Thursday in November, 1805,
he met his first appointment, as a traveling preacher, at
Manoah Lassley's, on Green river, Kentucky.
His colleague-William  Ellington —was a very goodnatured, easy kind of a man. Their circuit swarmed with
Newlights and Freewill Baptists. Ellington let them all
stay in class meeting, but brother Young turned them all
out; and this made Ellington popular, and they ran to him
with their complaints, and even carried them up to M'Kendree, their presiding elder. On examination of the circumstances, the presiding elder ordered brother Young to take
charge of the circuit, despite of all remonstrance. Ellington was delighted, but brother Young was alarmed at having the charge of a circuit. There were a great number
dropped and expelled on the circuit this year, but the
Lord made up all their losses with a small increase of
numbers. His health was not very good, but his appointments were all filled, averaging thirty each and every four
weeks throughout the year.
During this appointment the following persons were
licensed to exhort: Lewis Anderson, J. T. Williams, William Lewis, and Isaac M'Kowen, all of whom were afterward traveling preachers.
Isaac M'Kowen's mother was a widow, and her house
a preaching-place, at which brother Young had an appointment on the day of the total eclipse, in 1806. When it
began to grow dark, the ignorant Dutch and Irish inhabItants of the neighborhood ran to meeting, some for the
first time, not waiting to change clothes, or put on their
shoes; and before preaching closed, the house and the
yard were filled with the worst-frightened congregatlon
that ever was seen. The preacher exhorted them to be
religious, and escape the "blackness of darkness forever.''




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.
He visited his parents in Virginia, and returned to the
annual conference, which assembled at Ebenezer Nolichucky's, East Tennessee, September 15, 1806.
It was at this conference the celebrated propositions
and services of Dr. Coke, as bishop of the Methodist
Episcopal Church, were rejected.
His next appointment was to Levingston circuit, Kentucky, extending from Hopkinsville to Tennessee river, and
from the Ohio river south to Clarksburg, Tennessee, a
district too large for a modern presiding elder, and a distance to reach it of seven degrees of longitude —at least
five hundred miles.  Crazy Kate said, "The Lord tempers the wind to the shorn lamb;" it must be so, for
where are the men and horses now that would perform
such journeys?
Before getting once round his circuit, he was taken
with severe chills every day, alternated with violent fevers.
The chills ceased, and the fever increased for two weeks,
when he fell into a kind of stupor, partly senseless,, unless
roused up; and then he lay four weeks longer, neither
doctor nor friends expecting him to live. For nine weeks
he never saw the sun. When he began to mend the blood
had ceased to circulate in his feet and ankles; and when
it again began to circulate, such twinging, prickling, and
excessive pain he says he never felt before or since.
This was the first time he ever had the ague, but he had
it more or less every one of the next nine years.
It was a kind providence toward him that he fell sick at
old brother Meanly's. It was a very kind family of pious
people. They took care of him as though he had been one
of. themselves, for which may God reward them in time
and eternity!  The old gentleman's son John was afterward a traveling preacher.  While le lay at Meanly's,
M'Kendree, his presiding elder, came to see him.  lie
asked him to write his will.  Having, told him what dis




416           AtJTOBiOG1RAP1tr  o1
position was to be made of his farms and personal ploperty, he began talking wild, and told him what he wished
done with a boat-load of ingots of silver, which he imagined was coming from South America by way of New
Orleans. At the mention of this last subject M'Kendree
threw down the pen and burst into tears, which roused
him up. The good man was not only sorry because he
was sick, but he was exceedingly grieved at his being
delirious.
Near Meanly's, and in the vicinity of the town of Dover, only across the Cumberland river, on the highest
eastern bluff, there was a curious Indian burying-ground,
with only six graves in it. Each of these graves was
Lined with four stones-a head and foot, and two long
side-stones, measuring from seven and a half to eight feet
for each grave. The edges of these gravestones seemed
as if they had been placed even with the surface, and subsequent winds had blown away six inches of the uppersoil. Each stone was cut at right angles, and was well
dressed with some kind of tools. There were no rocks of
the same quality known to be in all that region of country. Here brother Young would wander to meditate.
He was in tolerable health through the summer, and
had some prosperity in his own soul, and some increase
on his circuit. In that place lived the father of Peter
Cartwright, and the mother of E. Wilcox, his half-brother.
In one of the most populous settlements on this circuit, there were two classes, and, of course, two leaders.
The classes were not very religious, except when they
were at meeting; then they were exceedingly noisy. The
leaders were both drunken; so when S. got drunk, he
posted away to M'C.'s, confessed, and got forgiven; and
when M'C. got drunk, he hastened to S., and he forgave
him. They quoted Scripture for all —claimed rights seventy times seven. He could not begin to administer disci



REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               417
pline without removing these leaders; and it was like lead-l
ers, like members; so they did not want new leaders, and
would not turn out the old ones for getting drunk; but
referring their cases to quarterly meeting conference, they
got rid of the principal inebriates, and the few good members rejoiced and increased greatly, not only in that society, but generally on the circuit. They excluded over one
hundred, yet they had a net increase of more than fifty.
This fall, conference was appointed at Chilicothe,
Ohio, September 14, 1807.  On his way thither he fell
sick in Lexington. The preachers left him, and in a few
days he rode out to brother H —'s, twelve miles, where
Jis fever increased, till he believed the family thought he
must die. They were afraid, as it got spread through the
neighborhood that his disease was contagious; and had
it not been for a good old sister G., who came to see him,
he might have died; but she went home and got her
husband to bring a two-horse hack, with a bed in it, and
take him home with him- where he was very kindly nursed
a whole month, till able to ride.
Thus far my old friend and brother has furnished me
with a sketch of his past history. His subsequent history
is the history of the Church in the west; for he has been
identified with all her movements. His mature judgment
and well-cultivated mind enabled him to render good
service to the Church in all her ecclesiastical councils.
Brother Young is still living, although much advanced,
and quite feeble, being in his seventy-fifth year. The
personal appearance of brother Young is somewhat peculiar, and would strike a stranger with a little surprise as
he would gaze upon his tall, slender, and perfectly-erect
form, his sharp and expressive features, a keen and piercing
eye, rather deeply seated in his forehead, and the luxuriant
folds of hair of snowy whiteness, which fall down over his
shoulders. As a minister he always ranked far above ma27




418           AIUT.OBIOGRAPHY  OF
diocrity. When in his prime few had greater power in Lhe
pulpit. His mind possessed great vigor and reach of
thought; and had he devoted himself to writing, his productions would have exhibited great terseness and power.
For many years he filled the office of presiding elder,
always attending his appointments with the precision of
clock-work. He has for a long time been one of the trustees of the Ohio University, at Athens, and his wise counsels in that board have always been appreciated by his cotemDoraries.  As it regards his habits, it may be said, no
minister ever had better, and none ever observed them
more closely. But few of the old pioneer fathers remain.
One by one they are falling around us; and here ana
there we find them standing in our midst, like the few ancient trees of the forest, to tell what was its ancient glory.




REV. JA1MES B. FINLEY.              419
CHAPTER XXVI.
SKETCH OF REV. JOHN P. FINLEY.
THE Rev. John Patterson Finley, my brother, was born
on the 13th of June, 1783, in the state of North Carolina[n September, 1810, he received license to preach in the
Methodist Episcopal Church. Having received a. classical
education, he was early called to take charge of literary
institutions; and from that time till 1822 he labored in that
department with great success in different parts of the
state of Ohio.  During this time, however, he laborea
much in the pulpit, and strove hard to show himself approved of God, "a workman that needeth not to be
ashamed."
In 1822 he was appointed Professor of Languages in
Augusta College, Kentucky, the oldest Methodist College
in the west, now a heap of smoldering ruins. This institution, the first-born child of the Church, cost much care
and anxiety, and, alas! regrets. I have letters to show
the part I took in the establishment of the institution; ay,
in the earliest incipient movements connected with it, and,
hence, the reader will indulge, me in what remarks I may
deem it proper to make.
Augusta College, like Cokesbury, seems to have been
a child of destiny, to have been born under some malignant star. Patronized by the two largest conferences in
the west, having a faculty, from time to time, composed
of the brightest stars that shone in the galaxy of western
literature, such as Durbin, Tomlinson, Bascom, Fielding,'and others, and having for her alumni a host of talented
men in every profession, scattered all over the country,.




020           AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
still, like an ill-guided, but richly-freighted vessel in a
stormy sea, she foundered and went down, and the waters
closed over her unhappy fate forever.
During the connection of my brother John with Augusta College, he was received into the traveling connection, and, as far as his professional duties would allow, he
preached the word, "instant in season and out of season."
His connection with this college lasted till May, 1825,
when it was terminated by death.
Professor Bascom, the great pulpit orator of the west,
one of his colleagues in the faculty, and who has himself
since passed away to the world of rest, paid the following
tribute to his memory:
"I have thought I could not spend an hour more profitably, this evening, than in sketching a few imperfect notices of the late Rev. John P. Finley, of the Methodist
Episcopal Church. I became acquainted with the amiable and worthy subject of these recollections in 1815.
From that time to the period of his death, I possessed his
confidence, and enjoyed his friendship; and, perhaps, nc
one of his numerous friends knew his mind and heart more
intimately than I, during a term of nearly ten years. He
has frequently assured me that even his own family knew
less of him than I did, and that I had understood his
whole heart. I may, therefore, be permitted to say a few
things to preserve from oblivion the name and services of
an able minister of the New Testament, and devoted friend
of mankind. John P. Finley was certainly no ordinary
man, whether we consider his natural parts, his literary
pretensions, or his gracious attainments. Nature had
done much for him, various learning had largely contributed to improve him, and Christianity had perfected him
into a model worthy of imitation. By nature he possessed
a strong, manly, and ingenuous mind; his education was
good, and well directed through life; his Christian char



PREV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               421
acter was of the first order; and alli conspired to render
him strikingly interesting, both in and out of the pulpit.
But as my remarks will be almost entirely confined to
recollection, I can only furnish an imperfect outline of the
character of my deceased friend. It has long been my impression, that men of distinguished worth in our Church,
who have been removed from their' labor of love' on earth,
have not received those distinctive marks of respect, in
the official obituary notices of the Church, to which they
have been obviously entitled, fiom the elevation of their
character, and the nature and value of their services; and
I would wish, that in all such notices, instead of a general
and indiscriminate commendation of piety and usefulness,
our numerous readers might be able to form some accurate idea of the peculiar and distinguishing attributes of
character in each individual, becoming the subject of biographical report. If men, and especially ministers, are to
be'esteemed in love for their works' sake,' they ought
certainly to be esteemed and held up to imitation, in proportion to the nature and extent of their relative usefulness, as well as aggregate worth of character. I mean to
say, simply, without indulging in any thing censorious, that
it is the duty of the living among us, to report faithfully,
and with some particularity, the various usefulness and
diversified excellence of the dead. In looking over, recently, some scores of notices of the death and character
of our deceased ministers, I have observed a generality of
description, a sameness of report, which, I fear, is calculated to make an impression, unfriendly to the well-known
fact, that we have had in our Church a great variety of
talent and usefulness: and certainly it belongs to the history of the Church, the biography of her distinguished
individuals, to point out, and clearly develop, the diversity of talent, character, and labor, of which we are now
speaking.... But to return to our subject.




.422          AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
"John P. Finley was born in North Carolina, June 13,
1783. From childhood he was marked as possessing no
common share of intellect. He was early placed at school,
and while in his abecedarian course, he evinced an aptitude to learn, that induced his father, a distinguished Presbyterian clergyman, who is now, at the age of seventy, a
Methodist traveling preacher, to give him a classical education. Owing to his habits of industry and perseverance, he soon acquired a competent knowledge of the
sciences, and a reputable acquaintance with the learned
languages. Of the English language he was a perfect
master, and taught its proper use with almost unrivaled
success. From the age of twelve or fourteen years, he was
often deeply affected with a sense of sin, and the importance of repentance and faith; but his mind was so much
perplexed with the doctrines of absolute personal predestination, of which his father was then a strenuous and able
asserter, thaf he came to no decision on the subject of
religious opinions, till he reached the years of manhood.
About the age of twenty-one he married, and soon after
was brought to the knowledge of salvation by the remission
of his sins. Early after his conversion, he was convinced
that a'dispensation of the Gospel' had been committed
to him. He weighed well the impressions and convictions
of his mind and heart, in relation to the fearful and responsible business of a Christian minister; but when finally
and fully convinced of his duty, he did not hesitate. There
were indeed many reasons why he should confer with flesh
and blood; but, with his characteristic firmness, he rejected them all, and took the pulpit, I think, in 1811. At
the time of his conversion he resided in Highland county,
Ohio. His ministerial career was commenced during a
residence in Union, Greene county, Ohio, whither he had
been called to take charge of a seminary.  At the head
of this institution he continued about six years, living and




RE'V. JAMES B. FINLEY.               423
preaching the religion of Christ in its native simplicity and
power.
"From Union he removed to Dayton, distant only about
thirty miles, and conducted an academy in this place for
two years. It was here our acquaintance and intimacy
commenced, which ended only with his useful life. He
left Dayton, beloved and regretted of all, and accepted a
call to superintend a respectable seminary in Steubenville,
Ohio. In this place he continued not quite two years. In
his ministerial exertions he was'instant in season and out
of season,' and labored with more than ordinary success.
His next remove was to Piqua, Ohio, where he continued
as principal of an academy for four years. In all these
places his pulpit efforts were highly acceptable; his social
intercourse seasoned with dignity and piety, and his-residence a blessing to all about him. From  this place he
made his last remove to Augusta, Kentucky. Here he
taught a classical school for some time, and was afterward
appointed principal of Augusta College, in which relation
he continued till the time of his death. In these several
places his labors in the pulpit were considerable, and extensively useful. All who knew him esteemed him as a
man of talents and irreproachable Christian character.
He was, indeed, all in all, one of the most amiable, guileless men I ever knew: never did I know a man more
perfectly under the influence of moral and religious principle. His uniform course was one of high and unbending rectitude.
"One error, as reported in the'Minutes,' respecting his conversion, I must beg leave to correct. I do
it upon his own autlority, when living, and that of his
brother, the Rev. James B. Finley, superintendent of the
Wyandott mission. There is something rather remarkable
in the manner in which these worthy ministers were first
arought to reflect with more than ordinary concern upon




424            AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
their latter end. John and James were amusing them.
-lves in the forest with their guns; and as John was sit.
ting carelessly upon his horse, James's gun accidentally
went off, and the contents came very near entering John's
head. The brqthers were mutually alarmed, humbled,
and thankful; they were more than ever struck with the
melancholy truth, that'in the midst of life we are in
death.' They reflected upon their unpreparedness to meet
death, and appear in judgment. Each promised the other
he would reform; and the result was, they were both led
to seek religion, as the only preparation for eternity.
Both the brothers agree in stating that this circumstance
was the means, in the hand of God, of their awakening
and conversion, as neither of them was in the habit of
attending the preaching of the Gospel before the inquietude and alarm, created by this occasion. I have been
thus minute in detailing the immediate means of his conversion, at the request of a surviving brother, in whose
estimation the apparent incompetency of the means magnifies the grace of God, in this singular dispensation of
blended mercy and providence.
"John P. Finley was in the ministry about fifteen years.
He was ordained deacon by Bishop Asbury, on the 17th
of September, 1815. He received ordination as elder at
the hands of Bishop Roberts, July 2, 1820. At the time
of his death he was a member of the Kentucky annual
conference, actively dividing his time and energies between
the business of collegiate instruction and the labor of the
pulpit.
"As a man, the subject of these recollections was engagingly amiable, ingenuous, and- agreeable.  Equally
removed from affectation and reserve, the circle in which
he moved felt the. presence of a friend, and the influence
of a Christian and minister.
"As a teacher, his excellence was acknowledged by all




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               425
who were competent to decide upon his claims; and
though he gloried more in being found a pupil in the
school of Christ, yet he was no stranger to the academy
And lyceum.
-'As a husband, there is one living whose tears have
been his eulogy, and to whom, with his orphan children,
friendship inscribes these lines.
"As a father, he was worthy of his children; and in
pointing them to another and better world, he was always
careful to lead the way himself.
"As a friend, he was warm, ardent, and confiding, and
tiot less generous than constant. His intimate friends,
however, were few and well selected.
"As a minister, in the pulpit, he was able, impressive,
and overwhelming. The cross of his redemption was his
theme; and in life and death it became to him the'emphasis of every joy.' In all these relations I knew him
well, and can, therefore, speak from the confidence of personal knowledge and accredited information.
" The last time I saw him, I preached a sermon, at his
request, on the'Inspiration of the Scriptures.' When I
had retired to my room, he called on me, in company
with a friend, and, in his usual frank manner, embraced
me, and observed,'H —, I thank you for that sermon,
and I expect to repeat my gratitude in heaven.' Little
did I think at this interview that I was gazing on my friend
for the last time, and that in eighteen months his ripened
virtues were to receive the rewards of the heavenly world!
But so it was; and I, less fit to die, am spared another and
another year.
"He died on the 8th of May, 1825, in the forty-secLd
year of his age, and sixteenth of his ministry; and at the
same time that this bereaved family wept upon his grave,
the sadness of the Church told that she had lost one of
her brightest ornaments. Just before his triumphant spirit
36




426           AUTOBIOGRAPUY OF
rose to sink and sigh no more, he was asked how he felt,
and what were his prospects upon entering the dark valley and shadow of death. He replied, in language worthy
of immortality,'Not the shadow of a doubt; I have
Christ within, the hope of glory. That comprehends all!'
and then, with the protomartyr, he'fell asleep.'
"Such is a very imperfect sketch of the life, character,
and death of John P. Finley. God grant, reader, that
you and I may share the glory that gilded the last hours
of his toil!"
I will close this sketch by inserting the Rev. Jonathan
Stamper's dream.  He was intimately acquainted with
my brother, and the remarkable dream which he had
was in relation to him. It was communicated to me as
follows:
" I was much attached to brother Finley and he to me.
We lived in habits of the closest intimacy and Christian
confidence. He was taken ill when I was at a distance,
and the news of his sickness and death came together to
me. I felt that I had lost one of my best friends, and
mourned for him as a dear brother departed, and probably
that gave rise to the dream. In my slumbers I thought I
went to his house, where I used often to go with pleasure
in his lifetime. He welcomed me at the door with his
usual urbanity. I was glad to see him, and he expressed
great joy to see me, though I knew he was dead. We
sat down side and side by the fire. I was at once filled
with curiosity to learn something from him respecting the
world of spirits. He looked at me earnestly, and said,
"'Brother, you are filled with curiosity?'
"I replied,'Yes, my mind has taken a very curious
turn.'
"'Well,' said he,' ask me any question you see proper,
and I will satisfy you so far as I can consistently with tbe
laws of the country where I live.'




REB. JAMES B. FINLEY.                  427
"I then proceeded, and asked,'Brother, are you
happy?'
"' Yes,' said he,' I am happy as heaven can make me.
"I then asked,' When you died -did you enter Immediately into heaven?'
"'No,' said he;'but I immediately started for it, and
I was the space of three days arriving there, though I
flew with more than the velocity of a sunbeam. I passed
beyond the boundaries of this system, and lost sight of
the most distant star that twinkles in these skies, and
entered into thick and uninterrupted darkness.'  Then
pausing, he looked at me most expressively, and said,'0, hell is a solemn reality!  After this,' said he,'I all
at once burst into the glories of heaven.'
"' Said 1,' The Scriptures represent heaven as a glorious city, such a one as was never seen on earth, and by
other splendid and beautiful imagery. Is this entirely
figurative, or is it a literal description?'
"'It is,' said he,'partly figurative and partly real.
Heaven is a local residence, gloriously fitted up for the
abode of saints and angels, where the glory of God is revealed to an extent that is not known in any other part
of his dominion, where the glorified humanity of Jesus is
ever seen and admired by the whole company of heaven.
There is nothing material there, but all spiritual, immaterial, and imperishable. All the beautiful imagery of the
Scriptures are there seen, though of a spiritual character,
such as the trees ever green, the golden streets, etc.'
"I then inquired- if the saints in heaven knew each
other.
"'More perfectly,' said he,'than they did here.  1
knew at sight all the patriarchs, prophets, and apostles.'
"I then desired to know if the saints in heaven weLe
acquainted with the affairs of earth.
('-Only,' said he,'as they are permitted to visit the




428           AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
earth, as I am at this time. This they often do, and are
sometimes sent as ministering angels.'
"After this he said,'I desire to know how you are
getting on in the work of God.'
"I replied,'About as we were when you used to be
with us.'
" He then asked,' Do the Methodists pay their preachers no better than formerly?'',I said,' No.'
"' 0,' said he,'what a pity —what a pity! The itinerant plan is the plan of God. He designs it to take the
world, and nothing will prevent it but a want of liberality
in our people. But,' said he,'you must never locate.
God has called you to this work.  He will support
you. You will live to be a very old man, and may be
very useful.' He then repeated, with a very heavy em..
phasis,'You must never locate. If I had my life to live
again, I would travel if I begged my bread from door to
door. You know I often told you I believed it was my
duty to travel, and had I obeyed I should have shone
much brighter in heaven than I now do.' He then added,
with a most affectionate tone and look,'0, brother, don't
locate; God will support you.' He then reached up to
the chimney-piece, and took down a considerable roll of
bank-notes of the most singular and beautiful appearance
I had ever seen, and, handing them to me, he said,'Here,
these are for you.'
"' I said,'Brother, I would Tather you would give that
money to your wife. You know your family are dependent.'
"He answered,' No; it is for you. There is a bank in
heaven for the support of itinerant preachers, and this is
for you.' I then took it. He then said,'It is almost
time for me to go; but we must worship together before
we part.' He sang loud and animated, and while I was




RFV. JAMES B. FINLEY               4529
praying he shouted aloud, as he used often to do when we
were together at meeting.  My soul became filled. I
never was more happy; and even after I awoke my very
heart sung praises to God. He then bade me an affectionate adieu, we parted, and I awoke."




430           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
CHAPTER XXVII.
SKETCH OF THE REV. WILLIAM  B. CHRISTIE.
I HAVE already alluded to this beloved brother, and
propose furnishing my readers with a short sketch of his
useful life.
Brother Christie was born in Williamsburg, Clermont
county, Ohio, on the 2d of September, 1803. In early
life he embraced religion and joined the Methodist Episcopal Church. In the year 1825 he was admitted into
the traveling connection and appointed to Union circuit.
He was called to fill some of the most important appointments in the gift of the Church. In the several important fields of labor he sustained himself well as a minister,
and by his zeal and fidelity he proved, under God, a
great blessing to the Church. "That his labors were
those of an accredited embassador of Christ is attested
by thousands who were blessed with his ministrations.
Numerous witnesses of the power of Christ to save were
raised up through his instrumentality. That he possessed the affection and confidence of his brethren and
companions in toil is evident from the fact that, by their
suffrages, he was thrice honored with a seat in the General conference."
The personal appearance of brother Christie was pre
possessing in an eminent degree.  He was somewhat
above the medium hight. His hair was black as a raven,
his eyes daik and piercingly brilliant, and, when lighted
up fully with the inspiration of his theme, they shot unearthly fires. About his countenance there was a bland




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                431
and sometimes almost seraphic sweetness, especially when,
witih soft and measured cadences, he would labor to win
his rapt and listening audiences to the cross, or bear them
away on imagination's wing to heaven. His equal in the
pulpit for fervid oratory we never saw before; his like in
rapid, impassioned eloquence we never expect to look
upon again. His ambition-and who that excels has it
not? —was of that towering kind which sought to rise
above all others, but never stooped in envious flight to.
pluck another's honors.
I will refer to the admirably-written memoir contained
in the Minutes of the Ohio conference for 1843:
"As a man, brother Christie was ingenuous, guileless,
magnanimous, and ardent in affection. Dignified in deportment and courteous in his manners, he won the affections of all with whom he had intercourse.  His mental
endowments were of a high order, and having in youth
enjoyed the advantages of a college life at Augusta, under
the presidency of the Rev. John P. Finley, he received
that training and acquired those elements and principles
which qualified him for the attainment of those stores of
knowledge which, in after life, were so richly developed
during his ministerial career. Hence, as a divine, it has
been justly remarked, that he had few equals, if any
superiors.; Profoundly versed in the science of theology
and ecclesiastical polity, in the pulpit and on the conference floor, he handled his subjects with a power and skill
that rarely failed of success. But the pulpit, pre-eminently, was the theater of his greatness, and the sufferings of Christ the glory of his theme. Calm and collected in his introduction, cautious in the statement of his
positions, cogent in his reasonings, apposite in his illustrations, and appropriate in his Scriptural quotations, he carried conviction to the understandings of his audience, and
then, rising with the inspiration of his subject, with the




432            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
fervor and pathos of his appeals, under the glowings ol
the Spirit of God, he forced the citadel of the hearts of
his hearers, and made them feel the power of the Gospel
of Christ. Through him the violated law of God announced its threatened penalty, the claims of Divine justice were vindicated, till the sinner, self-condemned, was
carried to the cross of Jesus, and offered and pressed for
his acceptance, by faith in the blood of atonement, a
present, free, and full salvation. And, doubtless, many
through his instrumentality were saved, and will shine as
stars in his crown of rejoicing forever and ever. But this
bright luminary in the moral heavens was destined to be
quenched ere it had traveled the whole length of the
ordinary path of human life.
" In the early part of brother Christie's ministerial life
his health failed him, owing to his abundant labors and
his untiring assiduity in the pursuit of useful knowledge.
Hence, for many years he suffered much affliction and
almost continual pain, but did not intermit his labors till
he was absolutely compelled to desist from his work and
repair to the bosom of his friends to close his earthly
career. For this purpose he left his station at Urbana,
and went to the city of Cincinnati. But when he reached
Dr. Wright's, in Cincinnati, on Tuesday evening, he was
much prostrated, took his bed, and declined more rapidly
than before. The next morning after he arrived, two min.
isterial brethren called to see him. His face was flushed
with fever, and his system wasted almost to a shadow.
He was. much affected at the interview, and said his
nerves were shattered, but his confidence in God was unshaken. He knew in whom he had believed. He had not
preached an unknown or unfelt Savior, and the Gospel
which he had long preached to others was then his consolation.  The calls of his numerous friends so taxed his
sympathy and his strength that his physicians found it




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               433
requisite to lay some restriction on them, or suffer him
to be much hastened-in his departure; and, with all the
care that could be taken by physicians and friends, he did
not last long.
"Among the numerous incidents indicating the state
of his mind during the last hours of his earthly existence,
only a few will be recited.
"Saturday morning, a little after midnight, he requested a brother, who was sitting near him, to call Dr.
Wright, who came in and found him rapidly sinking. He
asked brother C. if he felt worse. His reply'was, that he
had great difficulty of breathing. After some means of
temiporary relief had been administered, he asked the
Doctor,'What does this mean?' In reply, the Doctor
inquired if he would like to see some of his friends.
Brother C. then said,'Why do you ask the question?
Do you think I am pretty near home?' On being informed that he was undoubtedly worse, he looked round
upon his wife and friends, calm and collected, and said,'I am not alarmed. I am not afraid to die.' Extending
and looking at his hands, he remarked,'Jesus, with his
bleeding hands, will not thrust me away.' Next, he took
his two little sons, embraced, and commended them to
God. Soon after this, brother Sehon, having been sent
for, entered his room, to whom he extended his hand,
and, with a countenance bright with hope, said,' Brother
Sehon, I am almost home.'  After exchanging a few
words, he requested brother S. to pray, and during the
prayer he appeared to be perfectly happy. This over, he
beckoned brother S. to his bed, and by him sent the following message:' Tell my brethren at the conference, if
they think my name worthy of being mentioned, that I
have not preached an unknown and an unfelt Christ.
Tell them, that though unworthy and unfaithful, that
Gospel which I have preached to others now sustains me.
28




434           AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
Tell the preachers to preach Christ and hin crucified,
Tell them my only hope, my only foundation, is in the
blood of sprinkling. Precious blood! 0, the fullness,
the sweetness, the richness of that fountain!'  After
praising God for some time, he turned his eyes on his
weeping companion, and made some reference to his temporalities, but instantly observed, they were small matters, little things, assuring her that God would provide for
her and his little children. About two o'clock Bishop
Morris arrived, and found him bolstered up in his bed,
covered with the sweat of death, and much exhausted by
the efforts he had made to speak, as above described.
He, however, reached out his hand, and said distinctly,' I am almost home. I feel that God is good to me, and
that Jesus Christ is my salvation.'  No question was
asked him, and, being exhausted, he desisted from speaking for a while, and then, looking at his distressed wife,
-we understood him to say,'Jesus is precious.' When
unable to articulate, he often lifted his cold hand in token
of victory; and again, as though anxious to make us understand his meaning, he raised his hand high above his
head, and waved it in triumph. After some time, he
raised both hands at once, and extended them before him
as if just rising on' the wings of love and arms of faith;'
and then, in an animating manner, brought his hands
together, triumphing over death, his last enemy. At that
time we supposed he would speak no more; for when his
companion desired to hear his voice once more on earth,
he could only look at her and point his finger to heaven.
However, not long before his exit he -raised his hands
high, and brother S. asked him if he wanted any thing.
He shook his head. Brother S. then asked him if it was
power and glory. His countenance brightened up, while
he nodded his head affirmatively, and his strength returning to him, he shouted aloud, clapping his hands and giv



REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                436
ing glory to God.  The same peculiarity of manner, form
of expression, and even gesture, which markled his pulpit
and altar performances, were strikingly exhibited in his
closing scene. To the last he seemed to be conscious and
triumphant. About seven o'clock, Saturday morning,
March 26, 1842, without a sigh or groan, his deathless
spirit passed in peace and triumph from earth, to appeal
before the presence' of God with exceeding joy.  The
overwhelming crowd of all classes of people that thronged
to his funeral at Wesley Chapel, and attended his remains
to their last resting-place on earth, afforded abundant evi
aeDce of the estimate they placed upon his character.




:36  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
CHAPTER XXVIII.
INDIAN  BIOGRAPHY.
MONONOCUE.
Tirs renowned chief of the Wyandott nation was about
medium in stature, and remarkably symmetrical in form.
He was one of the most active men I ever knew, quick in
his motions as thought, and fleet as the roe in the chase.
As a speaker, he possessed a native eloquence which was
truly wonderful. Few could stand before the overwhelming torrent of his eloquence. He was a son of Thunder.
When inspired with his theme, he could move a large
assembly with as much ease, and rouse them to as high a
state of excitement, as any speaker I ever heard.
There is a peculiarity in Indian eloquence which it is
difficult to describe. To form a correct idea of its character, you must be in the hearing and sight of the son of
the forest; the tones of his voice and the flash of his eye
must fall upon you, and you must see the significant
movements of his body. As an orator, Mononcue was
not surpassed by any chieftain.
I will give a specimen or two of the eloquence of this
gifted son of nature. Imagine yourself, gentle reader, in
the depths of the forest, surrounded by hundreds of chiefs
and warriors, all sunk in the degradation and darkness of
Paganism. They have been visited by the missionary,
and several converted Indian chiefs. One after another
the chiefs rise and address the assembly, but with no
effect. The dark scowl of infidelity settles on their
brows, and the frequent mutterings of the excited auditora




EEV. JAMES B. FINLEY.              43'1
indicate that their speeches are not acceptable, and their
doctrines not believed.
At length AMononcue rises amidst confusion and disturbance, and ordering silence with a commanding voice, he
addresses them as follows:
"When.you meet to worship God, and to hear from his
word, shut up your mouths, and open your ears to hear
what is said.  You have been here several days and
nights worshiping your Indian god, who has no existence,
only in your dark and beclouded minds. You have been
burning your dogs and venison for him to smell. What
kind of a God or Spirit is he, that can be delighted with
the smell of a burnt dog?  Do you suppose the great God
that spread out the heavens, that hung up the sun and
moon, and all the stars, to make light, and spread out this
vast world of land and water, and filled it with men and
beasts, and every thing that swims or flies, is pleased with
the smell of your burnt dogs?  I tell you to-day, that his
great eye is on your hearts, and not on your fires, to see
and smell what you are burning. Has your worshiping
here these few days made you any better? Do you feel'that you have gotten the victory over one evil?  No!
You have not taken the first step to do better, which is to
keep this day holy. This day was appointed by God
himself a day of rest for all men, and a day on which
men are to worship him with pure hearts, and to come
before him, that he may examine their hearts, and cast
out all their evil. This day is appointed for his ministers
to preach to us Jesus, and to teach our dark and cloudy
minds, and to bring them to light." He here spoke of
the Savior, and his dying to redeem the world; that now
life and salvation are freely offered to all that will forsake
sin and turn to God. He adverted to the judgment day,
and the awful consequences of being found in sin, and
strangers to God. On this subject he was tremendously




4:38         lAUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
awful. He burst into tears: he caught the handkerchief
frum his head, and wiped them from his eyes. Many in
the house sat as if they were petrified, while others wept
in silence. Many of the females drew their blankets over
their faces and wept. "Awful, awful day to the wicked!"
said this thundering minister. "Your faces will look much
blacker with your shame and guilt, than they do now with
your paint." I have no doubt but God was with Mononcue on this occasion, and that many were convicted of sin
and a judgment to come.
On the first of January, at our mission in Upper Sandusky, while I had charge of the same, I was called to
bury one of our little flock, an aged woman, the mother of
Jaco, and aunt to Mononcue. She lived at the Big Spring
reservation, fifteen miles from the mission house. On the
Sabbath before her death, I conversed with her about her
future hopes. She rejoiced, and praised God that he had
ever sent his ministers to preach Jesus to her and her people. "I have been trying," said she, "to serve God for
years; but it was all in the dark, till the ministers brought
the light to my mind, and then I prayed, and found my
God precious to my poor soul. Now I am going soon to
see him in his house above; and I want all my children,
and grandchildren, and friends, to meet me in that good
world." She died a few days after, in great peace. I was
sent for, to go and bury her. Brother Riley and myself
rode there in the night, and early in the morning commenced making the coffin. It was late before we could
finish it, and, consequently, late before the funeral was
over. But I think I shall never forget the scene. It -was
between sundown and dark when we left with the corpse
The lowering clouds hung heavily over us, and the virgin
snow was falling. We entered a deep and lonely wood,
four men carrying the bier, and the rest all following in
Indian file. When we came to the burying-ground, the




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                439
Indians stood wrapped up in their blankets, leaning against
the forest trees, in breathless silence; and all bore the aspect of death. Not one word was said while the grave
was filling up; but from the daughter, and some of the
grandchildren, now and then a broken sigh escaped. At
last Mononcue broke out in the following strains: "Farewell, my old and precious aunt! You have suffered much
in this world of sin and sorrow. You set us all a good
example, and we have often heard you speak of Jesus in
the sweetest strains, while the falling tears have witnessed
the sincerity of your heart.  Farewell, my aunt!  We
shall no more hear your tender voice, that used to lull all
our sorrows, and drive our fears from us. Farewell, my
aunt! That hand that fed us will feed us no more. Farewell to your sorrows: all is over. There your body must
lie till the voice of the Son of God shall call you up. We
weep not with sorrow, but with joy, that your soul is in
heaven."  Then he said, " Who of you all will meet her in
heaven?" This was a feeling and happy time, and we
parted, I think, fully determined to die the death of the
righteous. We rode home that night, fifteen miles, and
felt greatly comforted in talking of the goodness of God
and the power of his grace. "Blessed are the dead that
die in the Lord from henceforth."
Mononcue was of great service to the mission as a local
preacher, and was always prompt in the discharge of every
duty. He was
"Bold to take up, firm to sustain
The consecrated cross."
Ready for every good word and work, he engaged with
the utmost cheerfulness in every thing his brethren desired
him to do, that would advance the cause of his Master.
I was most deeply attached to him, and lived on terms of
the most warm and confiding friendship during his life.
But Mononcue, my faithful Indian friend and brother, it




440           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
gone. "He has fought the good fight, he has finished nis
course, he has kept the faith," and now he dwells with
the Savior above.
BETWEEN-THE-LOGS.
THE distinguished chief whose likeness the reader will
find accompanying this biography, was born near Lower
Sandusky, about the year 1780. His father was a Seneca,
and his mother a Wyandott, belonging to the Bear tribe.
When he was about eight or nine years old, his father and
mother parted —a thing very common among the heathen
Indians. After this, he lived with his father till the old
man's death, by which time he had nearly arrived at manhood. After the death of his father, he lived with his
mother, among the Wyandotts. Of the particulars of his
life, previous to this time, there is but little known. Not
long after his return to his mother, he joined Indian warriors, and with them suffered a defeat by the army under
Gen. Wayne, in the decisive battle at the Rapids of Maumee. He then lived at Lower Sandusky. His good
sense, persevering and enterprising disposition, with his
prompt obedience to the commands of the chiefs, and
faithful discharge of whatever duty was assigned him, began to call him into public notice in the nation, and laid
the foundation for his being promoted to the office of a
chief; and because of his retentive memory, and ability in
discussion, he was constituted chief-speaker of the nation.
He soon became the intimate friend and counselor of the
]lead chief. When he was about twenty-five years old, he
was sent to fathom the doctrines and pretensions of a celebrated Seneca Prophet, whose fallacy he soon detected.
About two years afterward he was sent on a like errand
to a noted Shawnee Prophet-Tecumseh's brother-with
whom he staid nearly a year, and then returned, convinced,
and convincing others, that the Prophet's pretensions wert
all delusive, and destitute of truth.




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.               4t.
Shortly after his return from this Prophet, the late wal
commenced. On the part of the Wyandotts, he and the
head chief attended a great Indian council of the northern
nations, at Brownstown, in which he firmly rejected all
overtures to join in the war against, the Americans,
although surrounded by warriors attached to the opposite
interest. They left the council, and, on their return to
Sandusky, immediately joined the American cause. When
Gen. Harrison invaded Canada, Between-the-logs, in company with a party of Wyandott chiefs and warriors, attended him. But the principal object of the chief, at this
time, was to detach that part of the Wyandotts from the
British interest, who, by the surrounding Indians, had, in
a measure, been forced to join the English. This was
effected.
After the war, he became permanently settled in thle
neighborhood of Upper Sandusky.  He now sometimes
indulged in intemperance to excess, on which occasions
unbridled passion got the better of his natural good sense.
In one of these drunken fits he killed his wife. As well
as I now recollect, Between-the-logs was excited to this
deed by a wretch who owed her some ill-will, and took
the opportunity of his drunkenness, and insisted that she
was a bad woman, a witch, etc., and that he ought to kill
her. For some time he maintained that she was a good
woman, and refused; but was, at last, overcome, and
stabbed her. When he became sober, the horror of this
deed made so deep an impression on his mind, that from
that day forth he measurably abandoned all use of ardent
spirits. Being deeply impressed with a sense of the necessity of a preparation for another world, and having
a strong regard for his countrymen, he frequently besought them to forsake drunkenness, and pursue a righteous life.
In 1817 a new field opened for the exercise of his




442           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
wisdom and courage. The United States having made
arrangements to extinguish the Indian title to the lands
claimed by them in Ohio, commissioners were sent to treat
with them. The Wyandotts refused to sell their land;
but the Chippewas, Potawatomies, and Ottowas, without
any right, laid claim to a great part of their land. Gabriel Godfroy and Whitmore Knaggs, Indian agents for
these nations, proposed in open council, in behalf of the
Chippewas, etc., to sell said land. The commissioners
then declared, that if the Wyandotts would not sell their
lands, they would buy them of the others. Between-thelogs firmly opposed all these measures; but however just
his cause, or manly his arguments, they were lost upon
Inen determined on their course. The Wyandotts, finding
themselves so circumstanced, and not being able to help
themselves, were thus forced to sell on the terms proposed
by the commissioners. They did the best they could, and
signed. the treaty; but only from a strong hope that, by
representing to the President and the government the true
state of things, before the treaty was ratified, they should
obtain some redress from government. In resorting to
this course, Between-the-logs acted a principal part. Accordingly he, with the Wyandott chiefs, and a delegation
from the Delawares and Senecas, immediately proceeded
to Washington, without consulting the Indian agents, or
any other officer of government. When they were introduced to the Secretary of War, he remarked to them that
he was surprised. that he had received no information of
their coming by any of the agents. Between-the-logs
answered with the spirit of a free man, " We got up, and
came of ourselves. We believed the great road was free for
us."  He so pleaded their cause before the President,
Secretary of War, and Congress, that they obtained an
enlargement of their reservations, and an increase of annuities,




REV.. JAMES B. F-INLEY.             443
About a year afterward the Gospel was introauced
among the Wyandotts, by a colored man, named John
Stewart. Between-the-logs was decidedly in its favor, and
maintained its cause in the national council, and when,
some time afterward, I formed a Church among them, he
was the first man who joined society, the first who turned
his back on their old, heathen traditions.
After he embraced religion, and his understanding became enlightened, he earnestly pressed upon his people
the necessity of faith in Christ, and a life of righteousness. Soon after this, he was regularly appointed an exhorter in the Church, in which station he remained till his
death, a devoted friend and advocate of the cause of God.
He also watched with unremitting diligence over the temporal interests of- the nation; enduring the fatigues of
business, and of the longest journeys, for the welfare of
his people, without complaint.  He was uniformly an
attendant upon the Ohio annual conference, at which he
made some of the most rational and eloquent speeches
eever delivered by an Indian before that body. He felt,
and always manifested a deep interest in the welfare of
the mission and school.
The following address was delivered by Between-thelogs, at the anniversary of the Missionary Society, in the
city of New York, in the spring of 1826. After giving a
history of the introduction of the Roman Catholic religion
into his nation, and the influence it had on his people, he
says: "It is true, we went to Church on the Sabbath day,
and then the minister preached; but we did not understand one word he said. We saw he kneeled down, and
stood up, and went through motions with his great dress
on; and when Church was out we all went to a place
where they sold rum  and whisky, got drunk, and went
home drunk. He would tell us we must not get drunk;
but he would drink himself, and frolic and dance on the




.44           AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
Sabbath. VWe counted our beads, and kept our crosses
about our necks, or under our pillows, and would sometimes pray to the Virgin Mary. But we were all as we
were before. It made no change on us, and I began to
think it was not as good as the religion of our fathers;
for they taught us to be good men and women, to worship
the Great Spirit, and to abstain from all evil. Soon after,
the Seneca Prophet came to our nation, and he told us
that he had~ found the right way; that he had a revelation
and had seen and talked with an angel, and was directed
to teach all the Indians; that they must quit drinking, and
must take up their old Indian religion, and offer their constant sacrifices, as their fathers had done, which had been
neglected too much; and, on account of this, the Great
Spirit had forsaken them. But if they would come back
and follow him, that he would yet drive the white man
back to his native home. We all followed him till we saw
he went crooked, and did not do himself what he taught
us to do. Then we followed him no more, but returned
to our old course. Some time afterward came the Shawnee Prophet, the brother of Tecumseh, and he told us
that a great many years ago there lived a prophet that had
foretold the present state of the Indians, that they would
be scattered and driven from their homes; but that the
Great Spirit had said that he would make them stand on
their feet again, and would drive the white man back over
the waters, and give them their own country; that he had
seen an angel, and he told him that all the Indians must
quit drinking, and all turn to their old ways that their
grandfathers had followed, and unite and aid to drive the
whites from our country. Many believed and followed
him. But I had got tired, and thought it was the best for
me to keep on in the old way, and so we continued. Then
the war came on, and we all went to drinking and fighting.
When the war was over, we were a nation of drunkards,




REVY. JAIMES B. FINLEY.           445
and so wicked that the chiefs thought we must try and
get up our'old religion of feasting and dancing. We did
our best to get our people to quit drinking. But while
we were trying to reform, God sent a colored man named
Stewart to us with the good Book. He began to talk, and
sing, and pray; but we thought it was all nothing, and
many made fun of him because he was a black man.
The white traders told us we ought to drive him away;
for the white people would not let a black man preach for
them. We, however, watched his walk, and found that
he walked straight, and did as he said. At last the word
took hold, and many began to listen, and believed it was
right, and soon we began to pray, and we found that it
was of God. Then others came, and they told us the
same things. The work broke out, and God has done
great things for us. I was among the first that took hold,
and I found it was the religion of the heart, and from
God. It made my soul happy, and does yet. The school
is doing well. Our children are learning to read the good
Book, and promise fair to make good and useful men.
We thank you, our friends, for all the kindness and help
you have shown us, and hope you will continue to help
us till we can stand alone and walk. We will do our best
to spread this religion at home, and send it to all nations.
When at home I am accustomed to hear my brothers
talk; but since I came here I can not understand what
is said. I wonder if the people understand one another;
for I see but little effect from what is said;" meaning that
the Gospel preached had but little visible effect.
I then followed, and gave some account of the mission,
the work of God among the Indians, the school, farm, and
our prospects generally.
Rev. James Gilruth, who visited Between-the-logs in
his last illness, which was pulmonary consumption, says:
"On my first visit I strove to be faithful. I asked him




446           AU TOBIOGRAPHY  OF
of his hope. He said it was'the mercy of God in Christ.'
I asked him of his evidence. He said it was'the comfort
of the Spirit.' I asked him if he was afraid to die. He
said,'I am not.' I inquired if he felt resigned to go.
He said,' I have felt some desires of the world, but they
are all gone. I now feel willing to die or live, as the
Lord sees best.'  Some days afterward I visited him
again. I found his mind still staid on God; but he was
evidently approaching his dissolution. I informed him
that there were some evidences that his son-Richard
Reese, his only child-had experienced religion. He
rejoiced, and said,' I wish you to keep him at the mission. It is the best place for him. Keep him at school;
keep him out of bad company.' A few days after this he
closed his life, in peace with God and man, on the 1st of
January, 1827, about the forty-sixth year of his age, and
was buried in the graveyard by the meeting-house."
I preached his funeral sermon to a large, attentive, and
weeping company of his people, the mission family, etc.
Between-the-logs was rather above the common stature, broad, and thin built, but otherwise well-proportioned, with an open and manly countenance.
Through his life he had to contend with strong passions, which, through grace, he happily overcame in the
end. His memory was so tenacious that he retained
every matter of importance, and related it, when necessary, with a minute correctness that was truly astonishing.
And such were his natural abilities otherwise, that, had
he received a suitable education, few would have exceeded
him, either as a minister of the Gospel or as a statesman
or politician.
Many intercsting incidents might be given of this chieftain; but the space allotted will not admit of a more extended account. Few men of any nation or tongue, considering the circumstances under which they were placed




REV. JAMES B.' FINLEY.              447
possessed greater natural gifts than many of these sons
of the forest; and had their descendants, as well as the
other tribes of Indians, received that attention from the
Church and the government to which they were justly
entitled as theoriginal inheritors of the soil, they might
have remained strong and powerful to this day.  But,
alas! the doom of the entire race appears to be sealed,
and in a few years the tide of Anglo-Saxon population
will sweep them away, and nothing will be left to tell of
their existence but the page of history.
BIG-TREE.
THIs remarkable Indian was a chief of the Bear tribe.
He was in almost every respect an extraordinary man.
Above six feet in hight, symmetrical in proportions, and
graceful in his movements, he at once impressed the eye
of the beholder with an idea that he was in the presence
of one of nature's greatest sons. He had a Grecian cast
of countenance, broad, expansive forehead, aquiline nose,
and remarkably-regular features.
When I became acquainted with him he was about
eighty years of age. He presented a somewhat singular
appearance.  The rims of his ears were cut, and the
inner portion of them perforated, in which were hung
many silver ornaments, such as the Indians have, from
time immemorial, decorated themselves with. The cartilage of his nose also was perforated, from which depended a curiously-wrought silver jewel. His hair was
cut off close to his head, with the exception of a small
portion on his crown, which was long and plaited, inclosed in a silver tube. In other respects, he was dressed
in the usual Indian costume.
Singular as was the appearance of this chieftain, no
one could look upon his commanding person without feeling a respect for him. Age had not bent his erect, dig:




448           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
nified form, or dimmed the fire of his dark, expressive
eye, and his frank, manly, affable manners at once gained
your confidence.
He resided on the banks of the Sandusky, near the
mission house. The small field, which he brought under
a high state of cultivation, yielded him corn, beans,
squashes, and other vegetables sufficient to supply his
wants. In the center of this field stood his wigwam. It
was of singular construction. The materials out of which
it was constructed were chiefly corn-stalks placed up on
end like a shock, but much larger. In the middle of this
he constructed his chimney, made of bark pealed from the
trees. The chimney was set on poles, supported by four
forks set so as to incline inward, and thus prove a brace
to each other. The bark was then wound around each
of these, and extended from one to the other so as to
keep them in their place. The blades on the inside of
the corn-stalks,' forming the interior of the Indian dwelling, were all carefully pealed off, while those on the outside were all turned down. So regularly and exactly had
all this been done that the whole dwelling was impervious
to water and perfectly warm in the coldest weather. The
only avenue through which light or air could be admitted
was the door, which was small, and closed with bark.
His bed was ten inches from the ground, and was constructed as follows: Three logs of wood three feet long
were laid crosswise, at proper distances, parallel to each
other. On these logs were placed pieces of pealed bark,
lengthwise, and over these were placed his skins and
blankets. His pillow consisted of a small bundle of
clothes and his tobacco-pouch.  The furniture of this
rude dwelling was a brass kettle, some bark kettles, a
wooden tray, and bark spoon. He had also a gun, tomahawk, and butcher-knife. Several horses, which got their
living in the woods, belonged to him.




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                449
Thus lived this venerable old man. He passed, during
his threescore years and ten, through many vicissitudes
of fortune. When but a boy he was in Braddock's defeat, and took a part in the scenes of war and carnage,
He was also in the war with the southern Indians, where
he was taken captive by the Cherokees, from whom he
narrowly escaped with his life, and, after traveling more
than three moons, finally succeeded in reaching his home.
He was in all the battles fought by the nation with the
whites, and was frequently wounded. He related to me
several thrilling accounts of hair-breadth escapes. From
the testimony of others his daring and bravery were unequaled in the annals of savage warfare.
But what gives to the character of: this intrepid chief
the greatest interest to the Christian is that he was the
very first of his nation to embrace the religion of Christ.
He was converted alone in the woods, and the history of
that conversion I will leave him to tell in his own simple,
native manner: "I felt so great a weight on my heart I
thought it would crush me to death. I fell on my knees,
and cried out,'0 Father, have pity on your child that
you have kept till his legs -and arms are stiff with pains,
and his whole body is worn out.  This load will throw
me down, and I shall never rise again.  The trees to me
will never again blossom; the corn will never again rustle
in my ears, and I shall no more behold the harvest. 0,
take this load from my heart, so that I can walk forth
again, and see the beauty of the Great Spirit in the stars
that, like watch-fires, hold their places on the borders of
the hunting-grounds beyond the great river!' While I
was talking to the Great Spirit, my load was gone, and
I felt young again. My heart was emptied of its load,
and I felt light and happy, and could run like a deer in
the chase."  This son of the forest was a devoted servant
of God. In the winter of 1824 he was called to leave his
29




150            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
earthly tabernacle, and from his rude hut, on the banks
of the Sanllusky river, his freed spirit went -up to that
bright world where the saints of all ages and nations
shall meet and live forever.
THE MYSTERIOUS INDI-AN CHIEFTAIN AND HIS BRIDE.
ON a certain day-there came to the mission station, accompanied by his bride, a chief from some unknown tribe.
His appearance and manners were such as to create quite
a stir among the Indians of the village.  The question in
every mouth was, "Have you seen the strangers?" and
many were the conjectures about their nativity, and the
place of their residence. They were affable and communicative, at least as much so as any civilized Indians, but
to- all the queries put to them by chiefs and others in
regard to these points, they observed an unyielding
silence. They were evidently in cultivation and refinement far above the ordinary standard of Indian character in general.
They were invited not only to all the hospitalities of
the village, but to the festivities where young chiefs and
dark-eved maidens vied with each other in imitating their
dress and manners.
The arrival of a Kossuth and a Jenny Lind among the
whites in one of our cities did not produce a greater stir
among the inhabitants in proportion to their numbers, than
did the appearance of these mysterious strangers in our
quiet and peaceful Indian village.  To all the entreaties
which were made to get them to partake of the festive
cup, they offered a respectful but firm declinature. Indeed, in this respect, they presented an anomaly in the
Indian character rarely to be found, especially where they
are associated with the whites.  This, so far from lessening, only increased the interest which they had created in,lhe minds of all.  They were looked up to as superior




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                45'1
beings, and such, in fact, they were in more respects than
one.
The chief was a perfect model of manly beauty, and
decidedly the handsomest man I ever saw of any race or
nation.  His form was erect, tall, and slender, but wellproportioned. So graceful was his walk and so dignified
his mien, that the Indians called him " the proud chief."
His features, though of the Indian cast, were remarkably
regular and expressive.  His eyes were not large, but
dark and penetrating, and when a smile would play over
his countenance he was perfectly fascinating.
He was dressed in Indian costume, and the style of it
indicated taste. The Indians usually dress fantastically,
and hang about their person a profusion of ornaments.
Not to have some of them would be to renounce the Indian style, and be, so to speak, entirely out of the fashion.
The dress of the stranger chief would, therefore, from
the necessity of the case, not be devoid of ornament.
His outer garments were made of the finest broadcloth.
His cloak, or mantle, was ornamented with thirty silver
crescents, half of which hung on his breast, and the
remainder ornamented the back part of his dress. His
hlead-band, which was richly and curiously wrought, was
hungy all round with beautiful silver, pendants or drops.
His belt was of the richest wampum, interwoven with
beads and porcupine quills.  His leggins were decorated
with horse-hair dyed red, most beautifully fringed, and
filled with silver pendants.  His rifle-barrel and stock
were inlaid with silver, wrought into many curious devices.  The blade, handle, and pipe of his tomahawk
were also inlaid with silver.  The very trappings of
their horses, which were high-spirited, noble animals,
were also in keeping with their costume.  In fact, all
their equipage, saddles, bridles, buffalo robes, and blank
ets were highly and elaborately ornamented.




452           AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
Notwithstanding all this exterior ornament, a close
observer could discover in the thoughtful countenance
of the chief that his mind was not engrossed by his dress
and ornaments. He was evidently above them as he was
above his red brethren in cultivation and refinement; and
could all the facts be known in regard to his mysterious
history, it would, doubtless, be seen that he was under
the influence of a purer spirit than that which pervaded
the nation in general. His total abstinence from the inebriating cup, and his unwillingness to engage in the wild
and boisterous sports and festivities of the Indians, together with his studied silence in regard to every thing
belonging to his kindred and locality-all these, while
they excited a world of curiosity and conjecture, also
would lead one to the conclusion that he had become a
Christian. This, however, is reserved for that great day
when all mysteries shall be revealed, when what is now
unknown and deeply buried in the human heart beyond
the penetrating ken of mortals, or what the waters of
oblivion have washed away from the records of the world
and the memory of man, shall be revealed and restored.
The young and beautiful bride of "the proud" chieftain was perhaps, if possible, still more an object of attraction and wonder. She was courted and caressed by
the village maidens, and many a young chief culled wildflowers from the banks of the Sandusky, with which he
made garlands to decorate her hair. As her chief was a
model of manly beauty, so was she no less a specimen
of beauty to the fairer sex.
Her skin was not dark like the Indian; but she was,
perhaps, what might be called a brunette. No; this does
not describe her color, if, indeed, it can be described. It
was clear and transparent, though tinged with brown.
Her hair was dark and glossy as the raven, and, when
not incased in her silver band, fell in rich and massy




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY                453
ringlets over her beautifully-rounded  shoulders.  HI-e
eyes were soft and blue, with dark arches and lids, which
gave her great beauty of expression. Her teeth were
white and regular, and there was a bewitching sweetness
about her looks that caused all the maidens to love her.
Her person was tall, a little above medium'hight, and
perfectly symmetrical. She wore a dress richly embroidered and -decorated with jewels, which gave her a magnificent appearance.  Her morning dress, or dishabille,
consisted of a robe of red silk, profusely ornamented with
silver, and inclosed at the neck with a large silver clasp,
while the waist was encircled with a zone of the same
material.  Few ladies in the most refined circles of society, in our large cities, could be found who dressed more
richly, or, perhaps, with better taste, than did the chieftain's bride. In her person she was a model of neatness,
and there was an air of freshness and buoyancy about her
that ladies pent up within the walls, and dust, and smoke
of the city could scarcely hope to acquire.
This mysterious couple did not pitch their tent with the
other Indians, but selected a spot a short distance from
the village. Their tent was composed of the finest materials, and furnished in a style perfectly in keeping with
every thing else that belonged to them.  None knew
where they came from or to what nation they belonged,
though it was generally believed that the tribe to which
they belonged had become extinct, and that they were
the last of a nation which had been numbered with the
forgotten dead. Rumor, also, with her attentive ear and
ready tongue, said that the proud chieftain's wife was a
daughter of General Butler, that she had been reared in
affluence, and enjoyed all the advantages of a polite education and the refinements of a fashionable life; but that,
like a caged bird, when opportunity presented itself, she
flew to her beloved wildwood, and, uniting herself with




454            AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF
her early love, they sought together a home among the
peaceful and semi-Christian Wyandotts.
In matters connected with the interests of our mission
they both took a lively interest, though they never united
with the Church. There may have been reasons for this
course, which to a highly-cultivated Indian, who, nevertheless, retained his Indian prejudices, were quite satisfactory. Certain it is that they were governed in all their
deportment and intercourse with the villagers by the
strictest integrity and kindness.
The same mystery which hung so impenetrable a vail
over their history, as deeply and darkly shrouded their
fate. Whither they went, none knew —what became of
them, none could tell. Many were the Indian surmises
regarding them. Some of the more superstitious thought
they were spirits sent back from the great spirit-land, and
that their dress and equipage, their horses and dogs were
such as the Great Spirit would bestow upon the good
Indian when he died.
Another conjecture, however, was, perhaps, the more
plausible. I have before remarked that they did not associate but little with their Indian neighbors, and many
were heard to say of the chief, " He too proud to be with
Indian." The conjecture to which I allude was, that a
party of them, filled with envy, as were the brethren of
Joseph in olden time, conceived the horrid idea of puttinS
them to death. If this supposition be correct, so skillfully did they plan and carry into execution the deed of
darkness, that no one knows to this day the place of their
graves. The Indians were as careful to conceal the
graves of those they hated in life as they were solicitous
of their death.  There is among them  a tradition that
messenger-birds can be sent with the blessings of friends
to the spirit-land.  Their mode was to take unfledged
birds and cage them till they were able to fly; and then




REV. JAMES B. FINLEY.                      455
taking them to the grave, after kissing, caressing, and
loading them with blessings, they set them at liberty, that
they might fly away with their messages to the spiritland. Knowing that the young chief and his blue-eyed,
beautiful companion were beloved by many of the nation,
and that their graves would be dear to them, they, perhaps, resolved that some deep glen or water-filled cavern
in the dark river should forever seclude them from human
vision.
N    OTE.
1 HAVE many reminiscences concerning the Indians which have never
yet been published, and which can not be inserted in this volume. At
some future day, should Providence spare my life, I may be able to give
Aem to the public. Till then I bid my readers an affectionate adieu.
THE END.




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