% i- 
 
Columbia (Hntoe raft? 
 intljeCtipoflta&gork 
 
 THE LIBRARIES 
 
 Bequest of 
 
 Frederic Bancroft 
 
 1860-1945 
 
MEMOIRS 
 
 REV. THOMAS CLELANI), I>. D., 
 
 <f ompilcb from bis pribiitc pipers. 
 
 
 A"^ 
 
 & 
 
 l'.v EDWARD P. HUMPHREY, 
 
 AM) 
 
 THOMAS II. CLKLAXD. 
 
 C I X C I X N A T I : 
 
 MOORE, WTLSTACH, KEYS & 00„ Pjhstkim, 
 
 •2 5 WEST Fourth St b r. K T , 
 
 18 5 0. 
 

 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, by 
 
 J. L. SMEDLEY, 
 
 In the District Court of the United States for the District of Kentucky. 
 
 V&.£ 
 
MEMOIRS 
 
 REV. THOMAS CLELAND, D. D. 
 
 CHAP TEE I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 
 
 It is proposed to spread upon these pa res a 
 brief memoir of the life and labors of the Rev. 
 Dr. Thomas Cleland, of Kentucky, lately de- 
 ceased. The necessary information is supplied 
 in his private papers, but particularly in an au- 
 tobiography which he prepared in lo48. This 
 was intended not for the public ey e, but for the 
 use of his children and intimate friends, at 
 whose request it was written. These friends 
 have deemed it proper, however, to publish such 
 parts of it as are of public interest, together 
 with such portions as relate to his career as a 
 minister of the Gospel, and indicate the early 
 training by which the Providence and Grace of 
 God raised him up for the work set before him. 
 3 
 
10 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 In order to a just appreciation of his charac- 
 ter, both personal and professional, it is needful 
 to survey the sphere into which his life was 
 cast. He was a man of his time : in many 
 things the product and type of the region and 
 the period in which he spent his days. "What 
 was there, then, peculiar in the conditions un- 
 der which he came into the service of the 
 Church? 
 
 The first of these conditions is found in the 
 fact that he was one of the pioneers of Ken- 
 tucky ; not too young to be reckoned among the 
 second generation of that remarkable body of 
 men. In the year 1789, a few months after the 
 first inauguration of Washington, the Cleland 
 family descended the river Ohio, after the man- 
 ner and amidst the dangers of that navigation, 
 in a flat-boat floating with the stream, the 
 banks of which were infested with hostile In- 
 dians. In the following year the family settled 
 in what is now called Marion county, Thomas 
 being in the twelfth year of his age. Sixteen 
 years only before that settlement was effected, 
 James Harrod built his log cabin, perhaps the 
 first in the State, near the spot now occupied 
 by Harrodsburg. Daniel Boone's fort on the 
 river Kentucky had been erected not more than 
 fifteen years, and the original block -house at 
 Lexington about eight. The terrible siege of 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 11 
 
 Logan's fort, and the brilliant march of Clarke 
 upon Vincennes and Kaskaskia, the disastrous 
 expedition of Bowman against Chillicothc, and 
 the bloody but decisive battle of the Blue 
 Licks, had all occurred at periods the most re- 
 mote of which was not more than thirteen, 
 and the nearest only eight years earlier than 
 the settlement of the family. The sites now 
 occupied by the towns of Danville, Harrods- 
 burg, Lebanon and Springfield, were marked 
 by a few log dwellings, or were covered by the 
 unbroken forests. Not more than eleven years 
 had passed since the McAfees, and McCouns, 
 and Armstrongs had settled near the spot 
 where, seventy years ago, the} 7 built a house of 
 worship, which they called Xew Providence 
 Church, in acknowledgment of God's protec- 
 tion over their infant colony ; where, for forty- 
 five years, their descendants have received the 
 word of God from Dr. Cleland's lips, and 
 where they have now given him a reverent 
 burial with their kindred. Wayne's treaty 
 was not formed until four years after he came 
 to the county, and he was a young man 
 of two and twenty when the century which 
 is now on the wane began its cycle. His 
 life as a pioneer lad will be described in 
 his own words in another part of this volume. 
 To that manner of early life, those who knew 
 
12 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 him will readily refer much of his manhood 
 and force of character, and much that was at- 
 tractive in him ; his vigorous constitution, the 
 resolution with which he met difficulties and 
 opposition, the primitive structure of his dwell- 
 ing and its appointments; his frankness and 
 honesty, the simplicity of his manners, dress 
 and mode of thought and expression ; the fa- 
 miliarity of his intercourse with all classes 
 of people; his genial humor; his fondness 
 for the implements of frontier life — the ax 
 and the rifle ; his hearty and unostenta- 
 tious hospitality at home, and his exemplary 
 patience with what his younger brethren find 
 intolerable, — bad roads, bad weather, and rough 
 fare when on duty abroad. 
 
 He belonged, also', to the second generation 
 of the pioneer preachers of Kentucky. Father 
 Rice, Terah Templin, Robert Marshall, and 
 those immediate fellow laborers among the 
 Presbyterians were much older than he ; so were 
 Win. Hickman, Lewis Craig and John Gano 
 among the Baptists, and Francis Poythness, 
 Benjamin Ogden and James Haw among the 
 Methodists ; though the most of these were 
 alive when he began his ministry. He was, 
 however, the cotemporary, among the Presby- 
 terians, of Carey H. Allen, John P. Campbell, 
 James Blythe, John Lyle, Robert Stewart, 
 
LIFE OF I»R. CLELAND. 13 
 
 Archibald CameroD and Joshua L. Wilson. 
 Being, by a few years, younger than any of 
 
 them, he survived them all, and brought down 
 to the present year, the type of that generation 
 of powerful preachers. 
 
 To this we add, on a wider survey of his 
 sphere in life, that his cotemporaries in other 
 professions were great men — great in any com- 
 parison. Henry Clay and Felix Grundy were 
 his seniors by a year only ; Joseph Hamilton 
 Pavies and John Boyle by two years; John 
 Allen, John Rowan and John Pope by from 
 four to seven years; while Win. T. Barry, Ben. 
 Hardin and Benjamin Mills were younger than 
 he. Very few of these men, in the active peri- 
 od of life, were professedly religious, and the 
 points of immediate contact between the pro- 
 fessions of the law and the ministry of the 
 Gospel were not very numerous. But the in- 
 fluences which those classes of public men ex- 
 ert on eaeh other through their influence on 
 the community in the bosom of which both 
 have their spheres, the taste for forensic elo- 
 quence created by great lawyers and politicians 
 acting on the pulpit, and the love of justice 
 and the sense of responsibility to God, acquir- 
 ed from the instructions of the nulpit, re-act- 
 ing on the tribunal of justice and the forum — 
 
14 LIFE OP DR. CLELAND. 
 
 all these considerations must be weighed in our 
 estimate of public men. 
 
 The biography now before us connects itself, 
 also, with the most decisive events which have 
 marked the progress of the Presbyterian 
 Church in Kentucky. His ministry of fifty- 
 five years, commencing with his licensure in 
 1803, and terminating with his death in 1858, 
 is covered by the period both of rapid growth 
 and earnest controversy in the Presbyterianism 
 of Kentucky. He participated as an exhorter 
 in the revival of 1801-2 ; and as an ordained 
 minister of the Word in the work of Grace 
 which was wrought in the years beginning with 
 1826, and terminating with 1829. He labored 
 in camp meetings, which then were approved 
 among the Presbyterians ; and then in protract- 
 ed and sacramental meetings amons; all the 
 churches of Central Kentucky ; and, indeed, in 
 nearly all the larger congregations throughout 
 the State. As early as 1803 he extended his 
 missionary tours as far as Wayne county, in 
 Kentucky; and, in 1805, he followed a wilder- 
 ness trace as far as Vincennes, Indiana, to preach 
 the word in places never before visited by a 
 Presbyterian minister. He was actively en- 
 gaged in nearly all the controversies and de- 
 bates through which the church passed from 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 15 
 
 time to time. He was a member of the com- 
 mission whicL brought to a crisis the affairs of 
 the Cumberland Presbytery: he took part in 
 the proceedings which resulted in the deposi- 
 tion of Thomas B. Craighead, and the defeat 
 of the Pelagian party : at the death of John 
 B. Campbell, who had led the opposition to the 
 New Light Theology, he took up his pen 
 against the Arian and Socinian errors of Bar- 
 ton W. Stone : he entered warmly into the con- 
 troversy with President Holley and his friends 
 in the Transylvanian University, and labored at 
 the foundation of Centre College when that in- 
 stitution became necessary to the maintenance 
 of the truth : he publicly defended the princi- 
 ples of the Protestant faith against the Roman 
 Catholics, the doctrines of the Divine decrees 
 against the Arminians, and of the covenants 
 against the Baptists, and the doctrines of 
 grace against the reformers; and, finally, he 
 shared in the proceedings which resulted in 
 the division of the Presbyterian Church in 
 1837. Having identified himself with what is 
 known as the Constitutional or New School 
 General Assembly, he was one of the most 
 venerable and trusted Councilors of that 
 branch of Presbyterianism. 
 
16 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND, 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Autobiography, Parentage and Birth — Removal to Maryland, 
 to Kentucky — Settlement in Marion County — His early 
 habits and manner of life as a Pioneer and Hunter — Early 
 Education at Home, at Greensburg, Pisgah and Lexington. 
 
 [We now commence the history of his life, 
 as he has himself exhibited it in the autobio- 
 graphical sketch already described.] 
 
 " Thomas Cleland, the writer of this brief 
 sketch, was born in Fairfax county, Va., May 
 22, 1778. About the third or fourth year of 
 his age, he removed with the family into Mont- 
 gomery county, Md., where he remained eight 
 years. In regard to his ancestry he knows but 
 little. His father was an humble mechanic ; his 
 principal calling was that of making spinning- 
 wheels, but could do almost any thing in wood 
 or iron, that any one else could do. He was 
 very poor as to this world's goods, and withal 
 very feeble in his physical constitution. He 
 had only an ordinary English education, but lie 
 possessed a good share of common sense, and 
 his intellect was rather above the common or- 
 der. Beyond my father I have no knowledge 
 of my paternal ancestry. 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 17 
 
 My mother's maiden name was Richards. 
 She was a plain woman, a kind mother, and ii 
 domestic life rather excelling than otherwise 
 in regard to economy and good management 
 Father and mother both were highly respected 
 by their neighbors and all acquaintances. Nei- 
 ther of them ever publicly professed religion. 
 They were very moral and friendly toward re- 
 ligions people, and raised their family in good 
 repute. 
 
 The principal object that drew my father over 
 into Maryland, was to take charge of an old 
 mill establishment, by lease, for eight years. 
 It was on Seneca creek, and owned by a widow 
 Pern', and was much out of repair. Father 
 being an excellent mechanic, soon repaired it 
 and gained a large custom, took his wheat to 
 Ellicot's mills, laid out the proceeds in goods at 
 Baltimore, and established a small country store 
 at home; and thus acquired a small property 
 which enabled him to rise above poverty and 
 advance a little in the world. Daring this time 
 I went to school to different teachers — Timothy 
 Sullivan, Alexander Penman and Geo. Dyson. 
 The first two were Irish redemptioners, as they 
 were called, compelled to serve for a limited 
 time to pay the expense of their passage across 
 the ocean. The latter was an Englishman. 
 Besides the common reading, he made us mem- 
 
18 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 orize the Lord's Prayer, the Ten Command- 
 ments, and the Apostle's creed. The Old and 
 New Testaments were read as schools books ; 
 and here I may say I received my earliest im- 
 pressions, though very feeble indeed, by this 
 course at school. The teacher was himself an 
 Episcopalian, and my father's prepossessions 
 were that way also. I am confirmed in this 
 impression from what I have heard him inti- 
 mate, but more especially from the fact that he 
 had been prevailed on to have his children 
 down to my sister Mary below me, " Chris- 
 tened" as it was called, by an Episcopalian 
 clergyman, who occasionally visited the family. 
 
 [It has been already observed that his early 
 life, as a pioneer of the region where he spent 
 the most of his days, exerted a controlling in- 
 fluence in the formation of his character. The 
 graphic skill with which he describes this part 
 of his career indicates the impression which it 
 made upon not only his memory, but his man- 
 hood.] 
 
 In the fall of 1789, father made his arrange- 
 ments to remove to Kentucky, Washington 
 county, where he had procured an entry of 500 
 acres of forest land. My maternal grandmother 
 resided near Red Stone, as it was then called, 
 on the Monongahela river. He started Sep- 
 tember 23, and arrived October 9, nearly two 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 19 
 
 months, and there remained until father built a 
 flat-boat, in which to descend the Ohio river. 
 "We left the last day of November ; I was in 
 my twelfth year, and on account of a recent 
 illness had to be carried to the boat. The de- 
 scent of the river in these times was perilous, 
 frequent attacks were made by the Indians on 
 boats descending, attended sometimes with 
 severe loss of life and property. We ascertained 
 that they had made frequent attempts of this 
 kind. Boats were fired on both before and 
 behind us. But a kind providence interposed 
 in our behalf — being safely conducted until we 
 reached a small stream called Goose creek, a 
 short distance above Louisville, Ky. I was 
 sick the whole time, confined to my bed, but 
 soon after recovered. 
 
 We were compelled, for want of better ac- 
 commodation, to remain in our boat two weeks. 
 Afterward, a small cabin, about twelve feet 
 square, was obtained, a few miles out from the 
 river, belonging to Col. Richard Taylor, father 
 of the renowned hero of Monterey and Buena 
 Vista. This residence was in the edge of a 
 dense cane-brake. Here we were saluted every 
 night with the howling of wolves. 
 
 In the meantime father had gone to look for 
 his land, and, if possible, to have erected a 
 hasty building for our accommodation. He 
 
20 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 reached the neighborhood, examined the pre 
 mises, selected the spot, engaged the workmen 
 and then was taken with a violent attack o 
 pleurisy, a disease to which he was liable, an< 
 which ultimately ended his days. He was ab 
 sent more than six weeks without our knowing 
 the cause. The family were in painful suspense. 
 The Taylor family, old and young, were very 
 hospitable and kind to us. William, Hancock, 
 and " Little Zack," as General Taylor was then 
 called, were my playmates. Mrs. Taylor con- 
 ceived a great fondness for my mother, and 
 treated her as a sister. 
 
 At length father returned, very feeble in- 
 deed ; we had well-nigh lost him. About the 
 last of April we started for our new home, at 
 which we soon arrived in safety. Every thing 
 was new, rough and wild. A large cabin, with 
 open cracks and puncheon floors, homely poles 
 with boards across for ceiling, a tall dense forest 
 all around, bears, wolves, with all manner of 
 venomous reptiles in profusion. There was no 
 time to be lost. Owing to father's illness and 
 late arrival, the season was far advanced. The 
 mattock, the ax and maul were put speedily 
 into operation; father having a delicate consti- 
 tution, could not labor out, or do any thing in 
 the way of farming. But there was one who 
 had been an inmate of the family some eight or 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 21 
 
 ten years, a maternal ancle, familiarly called 
 " Uncle Sammy" (Richards), He had been 
 brought up a farmer. lie was our leader. The 
 ground was laid out, and at it we went day and 
 night. I was from a child fond of an ax — al- 
 ways my favorite tool. Our force was my 
 ancle and myself, two colored boys and two 
 colored women. Up came the grubs, down 
 went the saplings and undergrowth. Several 
 acres were covered with the brush, the result of 
 the days of chopping and grubbing. At night 
 the fires sent forth light all around from the 
 brush heaps burning here and there as fast as 
 we could put and pile on. This was amuse- 
 ment, as well as work, and had to be continued 
 in order to keep pace with mattock and ax, 
 until ten or eleven o'clock at night. Late in 
 the season as it was we made out to inclose and 
 cultivate twelve acres of ground. Every blade, 
 top and ear, were saved, and carefully secured, 
 which, with pumpkins, and a cellar well stored, 
 with potatoes, we made quite a flattering ap- 
 pearance for persons unaccustomed to the arts 
 and toils of farming. These were indeed times 
 that tried men's souls, and bodies too. I was 
 now twelve years old, May, 1790. Here com- 
 menced a new era in my juvenile life, every 
 thing to do to obtain a livelihood — the forest to 
 
22 LIFE OF DR. CLELAXD. 
 
 clear away, buildings to erect, the hand-mill to 
 push around to obtain bread. Sometimes 1 
 was mounted on a three-bushel bag of corn to 
 take to the nearest mill, which was thirteen 
 miles distant, three miles below where Spring- 
 field now stands, then an unbroken forest. 
 
 I soon became from necessity, as well as from 
 inclination, an active, fierce, and persevering 
 adventurer, after wolves, bears, etc. For feats 
 of activity, such as jumping, racing and climb- 
 ing trees, my equal was not to be found. Xo 
 one had more ambition to excel in log-rolling, 
 horse-racing, corn-husking races, than myself. 
 For my hardy endurance, and well-known 
 strength, I carried the soubriquet of " Pine 
 Knot" and " Jackscrew" In all these danger- 
 ous positions, in house raisings, athletic exer- 
 cises, and night huntings, etc., I was wonder- 
 fully preserved by an unseen hand, reserved, I 
 trust, for noble deeds, which at that time had 
 not the shadow of an existence in my thought- 
 less and untutored mind. 
 
 Energy and perseverance were two distin- 
 guishing traits in my character. I vaunted my- 
 self upon my external morality, and had the 
 approbation of parents, neighbors, and all. As 
 to my early religious impressions, the removal 
 to this country, the novelties continually pre- 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 23 
 
 sented, and the avocations in which I was 
 nceessarily engaged, left no room for their 
 operation. 
 
 [His fondness for the diversions of the woods 
 was a marked peculiarity in his taste through 
 the whole of his life. This peculiarity was 
 due to the sports of his youth in a country full 
 of game. Those which he describes below re- 
 late to the year 1793-4, when he was only fif- 
 teen or sixteen years of age.] 
 
 I resumed more vigorously than ever the 
 various avocations and pursuits of the day — 
 farming, log-rolling, and hunting wild animals, 
 coons, foxes, wild cats and wolves. The two 
 latter were very mischievous, depredating upon 
 our sheep, pigs, etc. In the course of some two 
 or three years I had trapped in wolf-pens more 
 than a dozen large, full-grown wolves, and in 
 one way and another, twice as many of the 
 wild-cat race, and smaller game without num- 
 ber. Both from necessity and inclination, I 
 had declared war against the whole concern. 
 Ambition, energy, perseverance and determina- 
 tion, carried me on regardless of danger. 
 
 Never was I alarmed by these animals but 
 once. It was early in March, the moon was 
 shining brightly, the air was soft and balmy. 
 While I was standing quietly waiting for the 
 return of my dogs, I saw three large wolves 
 
24 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 coming directly toward me. They came within 
 less than ten steps of me. Hearing the noise 
 of them approach among the leaves and sticks, 
 the fleetest dog sprang right toward them. I 
 saw the foremost spring to one side, while the 
 other two fled backward, with all the dogs in 
 full pursuit, Being alone, I feared the one 
 that had been left behind might attack me, I 
 stood with my ax, the only weapon I had, 
 ready, my heart palpitating, and my eyes all 
 around me; but I saw him not. The dogs, on 
 their return, gave him a second chase, and after 
 returning I made all haste homeward, the dogs 
 all ahead, I could not keep one behind me, but 
 kept looking back, not knowing but that I 
 might be pursued. One of the dogs having 
 gone aside from the road, I passed him, walk- 
 ing briskly. He came in behind, now close up 
 to me. As I looked back, I was sure it was a 
 wolf. The ax is drawn in the twinkling of an 
 eye, with earnest cry for the dogs, " Here, here, 
 here." But before the blow was given, I was 
 happily relieved by the whining voice and 
 wagging tail of one of my favorite dogs. This 
 panic was more agitating than the first. But 
 I arrived home, and crept softly into bed, and 
 made no report of my adventure to the family. 
 On another occasion the dogs treed a wild- 
 cat early in the night. Thinking it to be a fox, 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 25 
 
 I went up to make it jump off, that the dogs 
 might have a race. But in this I was mistaken ; 
 it was a wild-cat. It growled fearfully, and 
 came at me. I knocked it off with my fist, it 
 sprang to the ground and eluded the grasp of 
 the dogs. They ran it almost out of hearing, 
 but returned still in chase. It treed not far 
 distant. I sent a small negro boy I had with 
 me for my shot-gun. He came, and I fired at 
 it twice. I climbed up again, and as it came 
 toward me I again knocked it off. He again 
 eluded the dogs, and took another tree larger 
 and higher than either of the preceding. I 
 again fired at him, but to no purpose. Again 
 reloaded, then felled a smaller tree against the 
 one he was on, climbed up till near him, I shot, 
 he fell. I triumphed and returned home at 
 midnight. It was the largest animal of the 
 race that had ever been seen. 
 
 [The account which he gives of his school- 
 boy days is interesting, as indicating the means 
 of education which were in use at that early 
 period in the history of Kentucky. In the 
 summer of '92 or '93, his father sent him and 
 his youngest sister to school, six or seven miles 
 distant, going on the Monday and returning on 
 the Friday of each week. Two or three years 
 afterward, when in the eighteenth year of his 
 age he resumed his course of study.] 
 4 
 
26 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 But now commences a new era in my juve- 
 nile life. My father having seven children to 
 provide for, and being in moderate circum- 
 stances, not only from this consideration, but 
 also from flattering representations made to 
 him by several young lawyers of his acquaint- 
 ance, that a fine harvest for that profession was 
 in full prospect in Kentucky, was induced to 
 select me for that profession, thinking, if I suc- 
 ceeded in that calling, I could more readily 
 support myself in future domestic life. With 
 this object in view, and having previously made 
 the necessary arrangement for books, boarding, 
 etc., I set out with him for Greensburg, county 
 seat of Green county, on first day of January, 
 1795. We arrived late in the evening, and 
 lodged with Mr. John Allen, the place selected 
 for my boarding. I was now in my eighteenth 
 year. I was first under, the superintendence of 
 Jas. Allen, Esq., who was a young lawyer and 
 clerk of the county. With him I commenced 
 Rudiman's. Latin grammar, which I went 
 through in two weeks, including the revision. 
 During my stay there, some eight or nine 
 months, I read all the Latin authors commonly 
 used in those days, amounting to nine books, 
 from Corderius to Odd inclusive. I also com- 
 mitted to memory several lengthy orations — 
 Cicero against Verres, Cataline, etc. These I 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 27 
 
 sometime?, for amusement, as well as practice, 
 delivered at the top of my voice from some of 
 the tallest poplar saplings, which yet remained 
 on the unimproved lots of the newly laid off 
 town. The spot had been formerly cultivated, 
 but" long since abandoned on account of the 
 Indians, and now had grown up into a dense 
 and flourishing thicket, or young forest. From 
 this elevated position my oratory could be heard 
 all over this new and growing village. The 
 orations were selected from the " Art of Speak- 
 ing," a book of the 12 mo. size. I memorized 
 from two to three pagesof this book from day- 
 light to breakfast in the morning:. 
 
 Time rolls on. The spring of '96 arrives. 
 My eighteenth year is closed. My studies must 
 be resumed. The " Kentucky Academy/' re- 
 cently established at Pisgah, Woodford county, 
 is my next place of location. At this Institu- 
 tion I spent eighteen months of the most inter- 
 esting and important portion of my early life. 
 Here I entered upon a most ardent and perse- 
 vering pursuit after literary acquirements. 
 During all the time of my sojourn here, I pur- 
 sued my literary studies with uncommon ardor 
 and industry. My candle was often burning 
 until 12 or 1 o'clock at night, after all had 
 long laid down to sleep. Many nights I slept 
 not more than four hours. Never did anv one 
 
28 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 read with more avidity, a novel or romance, 
 than I did the story of Dido and Eneas in Vir- 
 gil. I sometimes got 400 lines at a lesson. I 
 read the Odes of Horace in nine days, includ- 
 ing the revision. Passed rapidly through the 
 " Satires," " Cicero's Orations; " then the Greek 
 Testament, Lucian's Dialogues, and then was 
 forwarded with the foremost class, which had 
 just commenced the second book of Xenephon's 
 Cycropcedia, which author was as far as I ever 
 went in the dead languages. 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLBLAND. 29 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Early Religious Impressions— At Twelve years of Age in 
 Maryland— At Fourteen at Home— At Eighteen in Greens- 
 burg— At Nineteen at Pisgah — At Twenty-two at Lexington 
 — Sudden Death of His Father. 
 
 After spending twelve or fourteen months at 
 Pisgah, he found his health giving way under 
 his severe course of study, and returned to his 
 labor on the farm and to his sports in the woods. 
 In the autumn of 1799, when he was in the 
 twenty-second year of his age, he went to Lex- 
 ington to finish his education, at the Transyl- 
 vania University. But his studies were, in 
 the course of a few weeks, suddenly terminat- 
 ed by the death, first of his mother, then soon 
 afterwards of his father. These events chang- 
 ed the course of his life. But it is necessary, 
 at this point, to go back in the narrative, and 
 trace the progress of his religious experience 
 from the beginning up to the close of his resi- 
 dence at the university, and the death of his 
 parents. 
 
 [Of his early religious impressions he thus 
 writes :] 
 
 Of these I was not wholly destitute in those 
 
30 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 clays ; but how to account for their origin and 
 character I have found no small difficulty. I 
 was considered a retiring and unassuming back- 
 woods boy. Nothing rash, vile, outbreaking 
 or immoral in my character. From what I 
 read at school, and incidentally learned else- 
 where, I believed in a judgment to come ; ever- 
 lasting happiness and misery. " Eternity " for- 
 ever, " Endless duration" were fearful terms, 
 and terrible for me to think upon. I knew no 
 religion but external morality ; and, because I 
 did not swear and do many other wicked things, 
 I considered myself in a tolerably safe condi- 
 tion. Yea, I thought I kept my accounts with 
 my Maker pretty well squared up. I knew no 
 more of utter sinfulness — the need of regener- 
 ation — the agency of the Spirit — the need of 
 atonement — the mediation of Christ, etc., etc., 
 than a dark, untutored Indian. The thought 
 that I might die suddenly ; that death might 
 unexpectedly overtake me before I had straight- 
 ened up every thing, was perplexing. How 
 I got the impression, I can not tell ; yet, I firm- 
 ly believed that, if any thing should remain 
 against me unadjusted, and father or mother, 
 or any one else, would pray for me after death, 
 all would be right, and no charge would be 
 against me at the day of judgment. But here 
 asrain I became unsettled and doubtful. I was 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELANI). 
 
 not assured that father or mother ever prayed 
 at all ; or, if they did, possibly I might be for- 
 gotten, and then all was over with me. I could 
 not do the work myself, nor by any means 
 awaken their attention and sympathies in my 
 behalf. Here then was the crisis, — the turning 
 point. What course should I pursue ? Why, 
 just this ; I must be good — altogether a good man 
 before I die. But how to be that good man, — 
 who is he ? Where is he to be found ? If I be- 
 come a lawyer, will that do ? Iso, all lawyers 
 go to hell [under a curse — " Wo unto lawyers.' 7 
 So thought I then. What of doctors? Never 
 knew but one — the one who doctored me for the 
 bite of a mad cat — the scars of which still re- 
 main. The doctor may be a good man, but it is 
 very uncertain. A preacher ! ah ! that is the man, 
 the very ma n for me. No mistake about his be- 
 ing a good man. The very act of preaching is 
 proof certain as holy writ, that he is a good man. 
 No man would preach ; nay, no man could preach, 
 unless he was a good man. So I concluded to 
 make sure of the matter. I must somehow get 
 to be a preacher, in order to make sure of the 
 good man when I come to die. From that day 
 singular as it may be, I never wavered, never 
 hesitated one moment, as to what I would 
 choose, were I ever called into public life. 
 Here I find the origin, the very gem, or per- 
 
32 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 haps the embryo existence of my earliest 
 thoughts and impressions ; erroneous as they 
 were, that first directed and fixed my deter- 
 mination towards the ministry. 
 
 [This statement appears to relate to the period 
 of early youth, before the removal of the fam- 
 ily to Kentucky, and consequently while he was 
 not more than twelve years of age, after the 
 settlement of the family in Marion county.] 
 
 In the summer of 1792 or 1793, father sent 
 rue and my youngest sister to school, about six 
 miles distant, to a Methodist preacher, Rev. 
 Thomas Kyle, with whom we boarded from 
 Monday till Friday evening, weekly. On a 
 certain day in every month there came along 
 the Circuit Rider, who, by request of our teach- 
 er, heard the pupils rehearse a small catechism 
 at the close of the forenoon session. This he 
 did as we stood in spelling ranks. I stood head 
 uniformly, had memorized the catechism, and 
 answered with the rest. He then proceeded 
 to prayer and exhortation, with great vehe- 
 mence and effervescence, until nearly the whole 
 female part of the school became in a perfect 
 uproar, crying for mercy, exhorting careless 
 brothers and some others of the male sex to re- 
 pent and give up their hearts to God. 
 
 The scene lasted, perhaps, for one hour, when 
 all became still as ever. The preachers retir- 
 
LIFE OF DR. OLELAND. 33 
 
 ed ; our dinners were eaten; playtime was at- 
 tended to in the usual style, so that no one 
 would have known that any tiling unusual had 
 occurred. Father hearing of these things, and 
 not liking the course pursued, requested and 
 obtained permission to withdraw sister and my- 
 self on these occasions. This was granted with 
 some reluctance. I withdrew to some retired 
 place, aud either read or cyphered, during the 
 religious exercise which increased in noise and 
 vehemence. When over, all was lively and 
 gay as ever. On my return to the school-house, 
 I was hailed with the jocular, sportive lan- 
 guage, "Here comes the lost sheep,'' " here 
 comes the prodigal," etc. 
 
 After the usual playtime was over, I was in- 
 structed by the teacher (being furthest ad- 
 vanced) to open school, and superintend until 
 his return, which was after three o'clock, P. M., 
 that being the hour to which his fast extended, 
 according to the catechism we had been taught. 
 One question was, " How often did the ancient 
 Christians fast ? " Ans, — " Every Wednesday 
 and Friday, till three o'clock in the afternoon." 
 
 The girls, increasing in their zeal, held, 
 through the summer, any playtime, religious 
 meetings in the woods, sometimes in one 
 place and sometimes in another. You might 
 hear them at the top of their voices nearly a 
 
34 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 mile. One or two lead in prayer, until all join- 
 ed in the outcry. Sometimes they were inter- 
 rupted by the howling of the wolf; or, more 
 likely, some of the biped race aping the quad- 
 ruped for his own amusement. Then they 
 would scamper like an affrighted flock of sheep, 
 until they reached the school-house. At length, 
 toward autumn, they occupied the school- 
 house exclusively ; the boys having received or- 
 ders to leave, and not interrupt them. The au- 
 tumn approaching— the days shorter and cool- 
 er — the novelty ceasing, the whole affair died 
 away, leaving no trace of real piety, and not 
 one to join the church by public profession. 
 During all this time I had but very faint, if any 
 religious impressions at all. I was opposed to 
 all this religious parade, chiefly because my fa- 
 ther was : sometimes I thought on the subjects 
 of former days, and occasionally I attempted to 
 pray, but could use no form or words but the 
 Lord's prayer. 
 
 [During his residence in Greensburg, his con- 
 science was considerably quickened.] 
 
 As for my religious impressions during 
 this period, they were few and feeble, and far 
 between. There was no stated preaching, every 
 thing was new and wild; all hurry and confu- 
 sion, as is common in new settlements. 'Twas 
 here I first saw and heard Rev. John Howe, 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 35 
 
 vrith whom I was much pleased ; he had recent* 
 ly been licensed. Samuel Findlay, in passing, 
 also preached a sermon or two. I do not know 
 that I received any special benefit from the ser- 
 mons of either of these men. Still, I had some 
 impressions privately. I was induced, some- 
 times, on Sabbath days, feeling lonesome, and 
 not otherwise employed, to retire far away in- 
 to the woods, and there kneel down in some 
 deep sink-hole, so called, and there make a futile 
 effort at prayer. Xo sooner was this determin- 
 ation made, no matter where I was, I thought 
 any one seeing me would suspect in a moment 
 what I was after, and whither I was going. In 
 order to divert any such thought, I would wan- 
 der about and about, halt a little now and then, 
 pick up sticks and pebbles, and carelessly throw 
 them from me, until I was entirely out of 
 sight. And often I had gotten to the selected 
 spot, and on my knees trying to pray, it did 
 seem to me almost certain that some one was 
 standing just above and looking down upon 
 me. Under this strong impression or tempta- 
 tion, I was constrained to stop praying, and 
 open my eyes and look all about to see if it 
 were not really so. Here was, as I have long 
 since believed, the good Spirit's influence mov- 
 ing and drawing me toward that which is 
 good, wdiile the Evil One was busily engaged 
 
36 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 with his temptations to destroy the whole. 
 
 I returned at the close of autumn, as before 
 observed, to spend the winter at home. The 
 object of my father, in preparing me for 
 the law, thus far had not been realized. The 
 motive and determination to be a preacher, 
 should I ever be called to public life, before re- 
 lated, remained unaltered. Yet, I was wholly 
 in the dark as respects my natural state, 
 and the necessity of an inward spiritual change. 
 I was always, for some reason or other, shy 
 and reserved, in the company of my father; 
 but not so with my mother. She knew all my 
 mind, and communicated to father my notions 
 on the subject of the ministry. He was entire- 
 ly acquiescent, left me to my own choice, had 
 no objection to my becoming a preacher, pro- 
 vided I could make a good one. Though not a 
 religious, he was a reading, intellectual man, 
 and an excellent judge of what was called good 
 preaching." 
 
 [While at the Pisgah school, in the nine- 
 teenth year of his age, he says ;] 
 
 My religious course and. feelings were 
 greatly changed. I found myself boarding in 
 a family where nearly all professed religion. 
 The heads of the family, Mr. and Mrs. Dunlap, 
 two of their sons and three daughters, were 
 members of Pisgah church. Our teacher — 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 37 
 
 .James Moore, and sub-teacher — John Thomp- 
 son, now the Rev. J. Thompson, of Crawfords- 
 ville, Ind., also were hoarders, and professors of 
 the same denomination ; they were all Presbyte- 
 rians. These two alternated with our landlord 
 in family worship, morning and evening. I 
 had not been there more than two weeks, 
 when there was held, at Pisgah, a sacra- 
 mental meeting; Rev. James Blythe was pas- 
 tor. I saw the young people of our family go 
 to the communion table. It was a new thing 
 to me, I had long since come to the conclusion 
 that young people had nothing to do with the 
 sacrament, that it was intended for old people 
 only. The young people were too unsettled, 
 not good enough for such a solemn place ; in- 
 deed, I had heard such addresses preparatory to 
 administering the communion, called fencing the 
 table, as seemed to me to debar almost any one 
 from that holy place. I had very early settled 
 the matter in my own mind that I was too 
 young to think it my duty to be there ; but 
 now, for the first time, I saw young persons at 
 the table. There I stood, surprised and con- 
 victed ; I had not seen the need of church 
 membership. Indeed, I had fixed it in my 
 mind, that we could live as well, and go to 
 heaven just as readily, out of the church as in 
 it. This w r as quite a resting-place. External 
 
38 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 morality, without an interest in Christ, was all 
 the religion I knew any thing about ; or, in- 
 deed, all that I thought was necessary. But 
 now, I was as one newly wakened up. I com- 
 menced a regular course of seeking religion ; at- 
 tended public worship on every Sabbath; 
 prayed in secret, or rather attempted to do 
 so, every morning and evening without fail. 
 My heart was hard, could feel no tenderness, 
 could shed no tears. Nor did I receive, as well 
 as I can remember, the least benefit from our 
 preacher. No one seemed to care for my soul, 
 nor speak to me privately on the subject of my 
 soul's salvation. Such was not the custom of 
 the times, nor order of the day. 
 
 But all saw that I was serious and regular in 
 private duties ; and I rather think, being a fa- 
 vorite in the family, that I was considered as 
 good as any of them. I always asked a bless- 
 ing at the table when called upon. At length 
 came on, one Sabbath evening, a severe trial. 
 The three individuals, who led in prayer, hap- 
 pened to be all away. "Will mother Dunlap," 
 was the query in my mind, " have prayers to- 
 night or not?" Will she pray herself, or call 
 on me ? I am not a member of the Church, 
 yet they all seem to have such confidence in 
 me, that I know not how to refuse, if asked. 
 I had never prayed in audience of any human 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 39 
 
 being that I knew of, and how shall I attempt 
 such a thing- now? I concluded to keep close 
 in my study, which was up stairs, over the 
 dining-room. If she should prefer being alone 
 with the young members of the family, pro- 
 vided she would pray herself, she might do so. 
 If I am to be present, she must call or send for 
 me. There I sat all alone, in great anxiety. I 
 heard the tread of her feet below, when she 
 went to the corner shelf for the Bible ; traced 
 her to the table where she laid it, followed her 
 to the foot of the stairs — the usual position of 
 the messenger bidding us to supper and pray- 
 ers ; and at the very moment of anticipation, 
 sure enough, the sound of her voice, calling me 
 by name, reached my ear. My heart seemed to 
 leap up into my throat, almost to suffocation. 
 I answered, but sat a moment to stay my agi- 
 tation. 
 
 I then descended to the room; she was stand- 
 ing in the middle of the floor, looking to catch 
 my eye, while I entered with my head inclined 
 forward, looking on either side for a seat. In 
 lifting up my head a little, I caught her eye. 
 With an easy manner and gentle motion of her 
 head, she directed my attention to the " stand 
 where lay the old family Bible." I halted a 
 moment; and then, with solemn face, proceed- 
 ed, and seated myself in the chair — a position 
 
40 LIFE OF DR. CLELAXD. 
 
 I never occupied before. I selected the 21st 
 chapter of John, and one of the longest hymns 
 in Watts, in order to familiarize the service 
 somewhat before I could reach the most trying 
 part of it. I was fond of singing, and had a 
 clear voice, but now it faltered, and I choked a 
 little once or twice. One of the young ladies, 
 an excellent singer, helped me out. The hymn, 
 long as it was, seemed to close too soon. The 
 hardest part of the service now came on. We 
 bowed before the family altar, I went through 
 as well as I could, but how, I can not tell. I 
 did not stop, or stick by the way. ~No doubt it 
 was a very feeble effort, but it was a breaking 
 of the ice ; it was the severest trial I ever en- 
 countered in any religious performance. In 
 family or social worship, or in any after trials 
 before Presbytery, or in the pulpit, I never felt 
 intimidated before the face of man in religious 
 services after that. 
 
 I frequently attended sacramental meetings, 
 in neighboring congregations. Was fond of 
 hearing Rev. Messrs. Marshall and Welch 
 preach. Applied to Mr. Blythe for advice re- 
 garding the Lord's Supper. Finding that I 
 had the ministry in view, he thought I had 
 better mature the matter well, and defer it a 
 little longer till I myself could be better satis- 
 fied — that it was of great importance to be 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 41 
 
 well grounded, with as full an assurance as 
 possible in view of such a responsible under- 
 taking. Yet, he stated that he felt it his duty 
 
 and privilege to give me a "token " of admit- 
 tance at that time, if I insisted. So far from 
 that, however, I was perfectly willing to defer 
 the matter for the present. Thus I continued 
 without any distinct, sensible change of my 
 views and feelings till I left, in the fall of '99, 
 about the middle of my twentieth year. That 
 I had become considerably in advance of what 
 I formerly was in regard to my religious feel- 
 ings, duties and desires, as well as knowledge, 
 there can be no question, still I was much in 
 the dark. I needed instruction, especially on 
 the nature and evidences of Christian experi- 
 ence. I am better satisfied now, at this distant 
 period, that I was under the gracious influence 
 and manuductionof the Spirit, silently and gra- 
 dually drawing me along, than I had any idea at 
 that time ; and to this day, like Richard Bax- 
 ter and others, I never have been able to point 
 out with certainty,the very time and place where 
 I obtained religion, if ever at all. This defect, 
 as I considered it, for a long time gave me no 
 small anxiety and uneasiness. Bat from this 
 perplexity I have been long relieved, fully believ- 
 ing, after diligent search, that it is by no means 
 a sine qua non to real godliness. Xever mind 
 
42 LIFE OF DR. CLELAXB. 
 
 the exact time and place, however agreeable and 
 
 disagreeable, if we have the experience, the 
 evidence, the fruits of true religion. Many 
 have professed to know and define the time 
 and place of their conversion, who have after 
 all found themselves sadly mistaken. The tract 
 on "growth in grace," by Dr. Goodwin, is an 
 excellent guide and assistant to one perplexed 
 on this subject ; so is Edwards on " The Affec- 
 tions." This book I read privately at home, 
 and after I had made a public profession of re- 
 ligion. It took me through a severe ordeal. 
 In the forepart I was cast off, stripped bare, 
 torn in pieces; but in the latter I was enlight- 
 ened, encouraged, and strengthened, and gra- 
 dually more and more established. It is one 
 of the safest and surest guides to ascertain the 
 existence of real religion that I know of among 
 all human productions. The book was not ex- 
 tensively known at that time, and how it fell 
 into my hands I am not now able to say. 
 
 [On his arrival at Lexington, in October, 
 1799, when in the twenty-second year of his 
 age, a decisive incident occurred, which he thus 
 states : 
 
 When I arrived I found a sacramental oc- 
 casion on hand. I had concluded for some 
 time that it would not do for me to live out of 
 the Church any longer. I thought, perhaps, 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 43 
 
 were I to take the sacrament, it would produce 
 that tenderness of feelings the absence of which 
 I had bo long lamented. My notions about the 
 sacrament were extravagant, supposing the use 
 of the elements would act like a charm, pro- 
 ducing at the moment of contact a feeling of 
 sensibility so needful and so much desired. 
 This, I supposed, after struggling so long to get 
 up good feeling, was all that was wanting; and 
 the first opportunity I met with I was deter- 
 mined to make the trial. But now what shall 
 I do. It was Saturday evening. Friday al- 
 ways the fast day, before communion, in these 
 days, and on which I had placed great reliance 
 in the way of preparation, had passed by, and 
 I had lost the opportunity. Still determined to 
 try the experiment, so firmly fixed in my mind, 
 I must now do the best I could. I must pray 
 that night and next morning with more earnest- 
 ness and fervency. The solemn crisis arrived. 
 I applied to Dr. Blythe for a token, which he 
 unhesitatingly gave me, asking me no ques- 
 tions. He probably thought of my former ap- 
 lication, or rather, that I was already a church 
 member. The day was cold and chilly. The 
 old frame house appeared more like an open 
 barn than a church. I took my seat at the 
 lower end of the table, no one being below 
 
44 LIFE OF DR. CLELAXD. 
 
 me. My anticipations were dreadfully disap- 
 pointed. The services, as usual, were lengthy. 
 The wind blew on me till I was almost shiv- 
 ering. No good feeling, of course, in body or 
 soul. What a disappointment ! The tempter 
 came in like a " roaring lion." " Now you have 
 done for yourself; you have committed the 
 unpardonable sin; you have ' eaten and drunk- 
 en damnation' to yourself." I felt miserable. 
 This was the first, and was to be the last sacra- 
 ment. I had definitely concluded never to try 
 another. But the Lord was pleased to order it 
 otherwise. The church of Harding Creek, now 
 Lebanon, was vacant. Good old Father Tem- 
 plin had left for the lower end of the State, 
 Dr. Blythe had a sacramental meeting there 
 next month, November. It was Indian sum- 
 mer, the weather fine and pleasant. In regard 
 to the sacrament, I had somehow become bet- 
 ter instructed, my sails were lowered, extrava- 
 gant notions about it dissipated or removed. 
 Some favorite religious friends had come on to 
 attend the meeting. I felt so much encouraged 
 as to determine to try it again. I did so, and 
 arose from the table with renewed strength and 
 satisfaction, and for years after felt more and 
 more so, on any occasion when I had an op- 
 portunity of attending. 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 4o 
 
 [The narrative comes down to the death of 
 his parents, and to the changes which that 
 event introduced into his course of life.] 
 
 Arrangement having been made, I once more 
 left the parental roof, with high expectations 
 of completing my literary course, hitherto so 
 often interrupted. For the sake of cheapness, 
 as well as to compel me to take exercise, I took 
 boarding at Mr. Alexander Smith's, about two 
 miles distant, north of Lexington. I com- 
 menced the review of Cicero and Xenophon. 
 I had just gotten fairly under way, getting off 
 the rust of two years' absence from literary 
 pursuits, when I was startled and almost 
 overwhelmed with sorrow at the unwelcome 
 news of my beloved mother's death, which 
 happened on the 31st of January, 1800 [just 58 
 years to a day before the death of her son]. 
 
 This was a severe stroke to one whose mo- 
 ther was dearer to him than all the family be- 
 sides. I went home a short time, to condole 
 and sympathize with the family, and then re- 
 turned to my studies again. 
 
 I had scarcely recovered from this sore afflic- 
 tion when I received a letter from my sister, 
 urging my speedy return on account of the 
 dangerous illness of our father, from a severe 
 attack of pleurisy, his old complaint that had 
 endangered his life several times before. 
 
4b LiFE OF DR. CLELAXD. 
 
 "What should I do? The next day was the 
 set time for our public exhibition. I had pre- 
 pared an oration on " Domestic Manufactures," 
 so much needed at that time. Besides, I had 
 a very important part to act, in a comedy, 
 " Don Lopez," I believe, the conduct of a fa- 
 ther in giving his daughter in marriage. My 
 departure would be a great drawback, would 
 make a considerable chasm in the exhibition. 
 I was a particular favorite of Rev. Jas. Welch, 
 the President, pro. tern., and Superintendent of 
 the Institution. He tenderly sympathized 
 with me in my painful situation. Said he could 
 not say "jS"o," if I insisted upon going. But 
 my absence would be a serious loss. Hoped 
 that God would spare the life of my only sur- 
 viving parent. That, could I trust him, and be 
 willing to stay till the affair was over, which 
 would be but a little past noon, next day, on 
 my return home, I might feel better satisfied, 
 on finding things better than I had feared. 
 Besides, he would call in my active assistance 
 to prompt the boys, help to arrange their dif- 
 ferent costumes, etc., all v of which would keep my 
 mind withdrawn from the painful anxiety and 
 foreboding respecting my father's illness. These 
 suggestions had their influence, and I concluded 
 to stay. The night was a restless one. To re- 
 alize father's death, the great destitution of the 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 47 
 
 family — -what would become of us all— indeed 
 were painful reflections. The morning arrived, 
 the time for the exhibition came on — the audi- 
 ence was large — the exhibition closed at two 
 o'clock P. M. I made all haste to my board- 
 ing house, took a hasty repast, mounted my 
 horse, and rode twenty miles that afternoon. 
 Had over thirty yet to go. The day was one 
 of peculiar anxiety and suspense. I met tra- 
 velers, who, I felt certain, could tell me the 
 fact whether father was living or not. I was 
 afraid to inquire. I rode thus far all the day 
 alone, and when within eight miles of home, 
 one who knew me fell in company and rode 
 a short distance with me. Both were silent 
 after the salutation, and I was solemn. At 
 length he broke the silence. "I reckon," said 
 he, " you have not been home since your fa- 
 ther's death ? " I could make no reply. Kor 
 can I ever forget the peculiar and indescribable 
 emotions of the occasion. I arrived home ; 
 but who can describe the scene ! An elder 
 sister — -the junior members of a bereaved and 
 distressed family — >all orphan and helpless — a 
 younger brother and three small sisters — the 
 colored ones, too — all met me crying. I am 
 not able to say now how I got through this 
 affecting scene. 
 
 But the Lord helped me beyond all concep- 
 
48 LIFE OF DR. CLELAXb. 
 
 tion and expectation. My father had died the 
 day on which I had received my sister's letter, 
 the 9th day of April, just two months and nine 
 days after the death of our dear mother. He 
 was buried the next day, the day of our exhi- 
 bition, and most likely about the time I was 
 acting my part on the stage. This I often re- 
 gretted, but never felt any compunction of 
 conscience, or self-reproach, considering the 
 circumstances under which I was placed. 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 40 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Struggles 'with Domestic Cares — Spiritual Struggles — Camp 
 Meeting at Cane Ridge — At Ilite Spring — First Efforts as a 
 Public Exhorter — Blessings of God on his Labors. 
 
 What sudden and unexpected changes had 
 followed each other in so short a time! From 
 the college walls I was suddenly translated to 
 take my position at the head of a destitute 
 family. I was at this time within a month of 
 closing my twenty- second year. I considered 
 my literary pursuits now at an end ! all access 
 to the pulpit completely barred, so that I un- 
 hesitatingly abandoned all hope or expectation 
 of arriving at that holy calling. I had now in 
 a measure to occupy the place of my father. 
 I was head of the family* Wrought on the 
 farm day and night. Every thing was behind 
 on account of his illness and death. I had 
 likewise to be administrator of his estate, 
 guardian for the children, defender of our U rra 
 firma, against a powerful opponent; and public 
 innkeeper, where many travelers resorted for 
 entertainment, not knowing of the death of 
 their former favorite host and hostess. Here 
 was work for an older and more experienced 
 
50 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 head than mine. On a review at this distant 
 period, I often wonder how I surmounted all 
 these difficulties. But God helped me, or I 
 certainly must have failed. I did not know 
 then what was before me. 
 
 Considering the family now as my own, I 
 thought it my duty to set up family worship. 
 My oldest sister, though not under religious 
 impressions, acquiesced when I made the pro- 
 posal. I commenced right away the same 
 evening after my return. We needed God's 
 assistance very much in our destitute condition, 
 and it was proper we should ask it of him. 
 
 In the discharge of the duty of family wor- 
 ship there were appalling difficulties enough to 
 discourage a youthful practitioner; at night 
 there would be from six to twelve travelers 
 around the fire-side, some of them infidels, with 
 only now and then one of some Christian de- 
 nomination. When I found any of this latter 
 class present, I felt myself encouraged and 
 strengthened very much. "When the little table 
 with the books lying thereon was brought up, 
 some seemed uneasy, and some surprised. I 
 gave them to understand what my practice 
 was, but if they felt fatigued and preferred to 
 retire, I offered, to show them their resting- 
 place ; but few availed themselves of this sug- 
 gestion. They generally preferred, perhaps out 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLBLAND. 51 
 
 of respect, to remain during the service. Some 
 would join in singing the hymn ! which afford- 
 ed me considerable courage and pleasure. In 
 prayer, some stood, others kneeled. Sometimes 
 I had a little brush with an infidel on the evi- 
 dences of Christianity, etc. 
 
 But I felt obliged to omit the duty of family 
 worship in the morning — travelers were eager 
 to be on their journey — the children were pre- 
 paring for school, etc. When I would attempt 
 it on Sabbath mornings, I was frequently in- 
 terrupted by the approach of travelers. But 
 amid all these outward difficulties, in addition 
 to my own feebleness and youthful inexperi- 
 ence, I rejoice this clay that God put it into my 
 heart to begin, and that he enabled me " to pray 
 and not to faint." I believe now, though I did 
 not know it then, that I was the only one who 
 was in the habit of praying in the family, in 
 all the region round about; and soon it was 
 noised about, to the great wonder and surprise 
 of many, that so young a man, and under such 
 circumstances, should be found engaged in 
 holding family worship. But this very circum- 
 stance, as will shortly appear, was the introduc- 
 tion to my further public usefulness. 
 
 Besides the cares and avocations already mi-. 
 merous and pressing, which recpiired my atten- 
 tion, was a horse-millof a popular character. 
 
52 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 so as to attract customers from all quarters. I 
 was forced sometimes to "be miller myself till I 
 could get a permanent superintendent ; but if 
 it got the least out of repair, no one could refit 
 it but myself; and this skill and advantage I 
 acquired by assisting my father in his lifetime. 
 I was often called to aid him in dressing the 
 stones, fixing the wheels, etc. This business I 
 had no partiality for, but I found it to be of 
 singular advantage to me, though often per- 
 plexing and onerous ; greatly at times, inter- 
 fering with spiritual duties and other avoca- 
 tions. 
 
 In the meantime, my oldest sister and house- 
 keeper, Anna, was married to a Mr. James 
 Wilson, of Virginia, and left me. True I had 
 a younger sister, just in her teens, who acted 
 her part in that capacity better than I could 
 have anticipated. 
 
 During all this time of hurry, anxiety and 
 change, enough to have employed the wisdom 
 and energies of the most experienced minds — 
 my religious feelings and exercises always fee- 
 ble and hesitating at best, for the want of stated 
 opportunities, and healthful, invigorating means 
 of grace — suffered a considerable depression. 
 My private duties were formal and less frequent 
 — my reflections were unpleasant — my feelings 
 lifeless — my hopes were almost extinct. About 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 53 
 
 the middle of June, 1801, was the Cane Ridge 
 meeting in Bourbon county; it was the time of 
 the groat revival, particularly in the southern 
 and western portions of Kentucky. The falling- 
 down exercise, as it was called, was in full opera- 
 tion. I was determined, if possible, to attend 
 this meeting, respecting which great expecta- 
 tions were formed. 
 
 Having made my arrangements, placing the 
 family under suitable protection, I attended the 
 meeting. A great and solemn one it was, sure 
 enough. I shall not attempt a description of 
 this mooting, of its extent and outward appear- 
 ance. This has been repeatedly done by other 
 writers. As to myself, I had fancied, that no 
 sooner than I would reach the place and enter 
 the religious atmosphere, I would enjoy quite 
 a different feeling from that which I had so 
 long experienced and lamented. I expected to 
 fall quite soon, or experience some softening, 
 pleasing, inward ecstacy — something I could 
 not tell what. But, to my great disappointment, 
 I felt unmoved, cold, and hard as a stone. I 
 went from tent to tent, witnessing many pros- 
 trate as though dead, or dying — persons all 
 around singing and praying. Though fond of 
 singing myself, I could not join with them. I 
 ret i rod to a tent to sleep, but I could not. I 
 thought of home, and wished myself there. 
 
54 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 The tempter told me I bad no business there, 
 that the family needed my presence, and that 
 some accident would befall them during my 
 absence, so that I had " neither joy nor song." 
 Thus I continued until the hour of preaching 
 next day, which was the Sabbath. The preach- 
 er in the morning was my old favorite, Rev. 
 Robert Marshall. He occupied the stand while 
 another occupied the church, a short distance 
 apart. I chose the stand, of course. The con- 
 gregation was immense. The text was Cant, 
 ii : 10, "Rise up my love, my fair one, and 
 come away." In the course of the sermon my 
 case was described exactly. The preacher, if I 
 may so say, " struck the trail" of my experience 
 some distance back, and came on plainer and 
 plainer, and at every step more sensibly, and 
 with more effect. At length he came right up 
 with me— my religious state and feeling were 
 depicted better than I could have possibly done 
 it myself. "Rise up my love" was pressed 
 upon me in the tenderest and most affectionate 
 manner. I thought, indeed, it was the heaven- 
 ly bridegroom calling and inviting his poor, 
 feeble and falling one to. rise from my low condi- 
 tion, and come away and follow him more en- 
 tirely. My heart was melted ! my bosom 
 heaved ! my eyes, for the first time, were a 
 fountain of tears. I stood behind one of the 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAXD. 00 
 
 benches leaning forward against its back. I 
 wept till my handkerchief was saturated with 
 my tears. I felt like giving away. I felt an 
 indescribable sensation, as when one strikes his 
 elbow against a hard substance. I do not say 
 that mine was the prevailing exercise, or that 
 it did not arise from natural causes. So it was ; 
 my position was discovered by a friend stand- 
 ing near me. He took hold on me, and gently 
 drew me beside him, with my head in his lap. 
 There I continued weeping, talking, praying, 
 exhorting, etc., till the sun was no more than 
 two hours high. The sermon had closed — seven 
 courses of sacramental service had passed — but 
 which I was not in a condition to attend. 
 
 But the embargo was removed, and I was set 
 at liberty. I greatly enjoyed the meeting, as 
 long as I remained. As to the duration of my 
 exercise, it appeared to me to have been not 
 more than one hour. And cue thing I shall 
 never forget, that weeping, dissolved, humbled 
 situation was so suited to my case — something 
 like it had, all along, been so much desired, 
 that I seemed to covet its uninterrupted con- 
 tinuance ; so much so, that could an instrument 
 of writing insuring it, been presented for my 
 signature, I could have signed it with avidity 
 — signing and sealing it for life — to continue in 
 such a frame, while it pleased God to continue 
 
56 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 my being here. This I know is extravagant, 
 but some allowance is to be made for one in 
 my circumstances, who, for the want of relig- 
 ious training, was so deficient in religious 
 knowledge, and especially who had longed 
 after and depended so much upon religious feel- 
 ing. To say this was the time of my change of 
 heart, I will not. I hope that had taken place 
 before. I rather considered this a revival, an 
 enlarged manifestation of that grace which had 
 been communicated to me before; but which 
 had undergone much obscmity and depression. 
 
 [Two months after the camp-meeting at Cane 
 Ridge, another was held at Hite's Spring, near 
 Harrodsburg.] 
 
 The meeting was one of great interest and 
 solemnity ; though not so large, it was of a 
 type or complexion much like the one at Cane 
 Ridge two months before. I shall not attempt 
 an enlargement here, my main object being to 
 follow the train of Providential dealings with 
 respect to myself. 
 
 Late on Sabbath afternoon, the evening repast 
 having been attended to, and while arrange- 
 ments were being made for coming services, 
 the voice of praise was to be heard in different 
 places. There sat around me several of my 
 friends and acquaintances, from the destitute 
 region where I resided in Washington county 
 
I ii'H OF DR. CLKLAND. 5*3 
 
 (now Marion). I commenced an easy, familiar, 
 
 tender conversation with them, relative to our 
 
 bute and deplorable condition, as having 
 
 no preaching, no stated public means of grace, 
 
 the miserable way in which we bad been living, 
 and what, at last, was to be the end of all. 
 Some live or six were moved to tears; indeed 
 there was deep and tender emotion, sobs, with 
 heaving bosoms, and suppressed crying. I 
 could not stand that. The Hood of sympathy 
 that had been broken up at Cane Ridge, was 
 now ready to overflow with a swelling tide at 
 this interesting crisis. I commenced praying, 
 and continued with great fervency and feeling, 
 as was estimated by those present, for the space 
 of at least an hour. This exercise was imme- 
 diately succeeded by exhortation, which con- 
 tinued several hours longer, and till exhaustion 
 took place, and I was either persuaded or com- 
 pelled to desist. A dense crowd was standing 
 around all the time, many weeping, some fallen 
 prostrate and crying for mercy. This I have 
 called an involuntary exercise, and was proba- 
 bly, at the time, considered by some as a mere 
 spasmodic effusion. So it was. G-od made it 
 the occasion of the first awaking of some per- 
 sons present, who subsequently declared that 
 to be the fact, in offering themselves for mem- 
 bership in the first church committed to my 
 
58 LIFE OF DR. CLELAjNI', 
 
 charge, called Union, as will be noticed hereaf- 
 ter. One of the persons arrested at that time 
 became an elder of that church. Surely we 
 may say, " What hath God wrought ? " 
 
 But now came scenes of interest and cases of 
 responsibility like a rolling tide, thicker and 
 faster upon me, without any special agency of 
 my own. I had returned from the meeting but 
 a few days, when quite late one evening, I was 
 sent for, somewhat over a mile, on an errand, 
 the like of which had never been known before 
 in that region. It was a new thing under the 
 sun, among that people. A young man had 
 returned from that meeting with a " sharp ar- 
 row in the heart of the King's enemy.' 7 He 
 was so deeply impressed that he could find no 
 rest, day nor night ; he must have some one to 
 pray for him. There is only one who is known 
 to pray in the family, in all the neighborhood, 
 the same who prayed and exhorted so conspi- 
 cuously at the " lay-meeting." That is the 
 man ; he must be sent for. 
 
 When I arrived, sure enough, I found him 
 deeply distressed. I talked with him, sung, 
 " Then pity Lord — O Lord forgive," one of my 
 favorite songs, and prayed for him as well as I 
 could, and returned home. 
 
 The next evening, after dark, while sitting 
 all alone, the rest of the family having all re- 
 
LIFE OF BR. CLELAND. 69 
 
 tired to bod, there was a rapping at my door 
 which I apprehended to be a late traveler seek- 
 ing his resting-place for the night. But how 
 was I disappointed in seeing the same black 
 messenger on a similar errand as on the evening 
 before. Being late, and having no time to 
 lose, I mounted the messenger's horse, bare* 
 back, except a small saddle-blanket—took him 
 behind me, and away we went through the 
 dark forest, over a newly cut road, full of 
 stumps and other annoyances, until we arrived, 
 at the house where I was expected. Two men 
 were in waiting to see me before I entered. 
 They informed me of their particular intention 
 in sending for me. Besides the distressed man 
 there was a number of others in the house, who 
 had come there through sympathy and curi- 
 osity to see a man distressed on account of his 
 soul. That it had been agreed upon to send 
 for me as late as it was, under the belief and 
 expectation that I would address them ; and 
 under this impression the people had been de- 
 tained. I told them I could not comply with 
 their wishes; that I had no official authority to 
 speak in public; that but recently having been 
 a church member, and not being acquainted 
 with the government and discipline of the Pres- 
 byterian Church, I might violate rules, etc. ; 
 
60 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND, 
 
 and, further, though. I had exhorted at the 
 camp-meeting, it was an involuntary effusion — • 
 not having the proper control of my judgment 
 and feelings at the time— hut to undertake the 
 thing coolly and deliberately, I feared I would 
 not be able to succeed. These reasons appeared 
 to have weight, and my refusal seemed reason- 
 able. At any rate, they insisted I must sing 
 and pray. To this I assented, and the more 
 readily, if they would join in and help me out. 
 One, an elder brother of the distressed man, 
 and a Methodist by profession, agreed to pray. 
 We went in. Some dozen or twenty persons 
 were in the house. All appeared serious and 
 solemn. ~No noise in the house, save the sobs 
 and cries of the young man. I spoke a few 
 words to him in a low voice. Began, as before 
 to sing, " Show pity, Lord," etc, as the most 
 suitable words I could select. We knelt down, 
 and I prayed as I could. I think his brother, 
 agreeable to promise, also prayed. When I 
 rose to my feet it appeared that every eye was 
 fixed upon me : they expected me to hold forth, 
 not knowing that I had previously declined 
 saying any thing. I felt, however, constrained 
 to say something, I could not tell what. I would 
 not call it exhortation, but a little plain, easy 
 talk. I attempted to portray an irreligious 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. Ijl 
 
 condition, the great need of something more 
 and better, I forgot my little (nil;, and soon got 
 up to the strain of exhortation. 
 
 This first attempt seemed to be favorably 
 received. The meeting was closed. Informing 
 my neighbors that being disappointed in my 
 desires for public life, and having been brought 
 back providentially among them, at least for 
 awhile, and wishing to do them all the good I 
 could, as a neighbor and as a private citizen, I 
 left an appointment for the same place, naming 
 the evening, and withdrew. 
 
 My new friend from Virginia, Mr. Andrew 
 Cunningham, insisted on my returning home 
 with him that night, stating that his wife was 
 in a distressed state of mind, and had a particu- 
 lar wish to see me. She had professed "to 
 have obtained a good hope through grace," in 
 Virginia, but owing to various causes, she had 
 not publicly owned Christ — had neglected to 
 join herself to his people — had become lifeless 
 and unbelieving, and was strongly tempted to 
 conclude that she had committed the unpardon- 
 able sin. I went and found it as had been rep- 
 resented. I sat up till after midnight, convers- 
 ing with and instructing her as well as I was 
 able. My visit on this occasion, I have reason 
 to believe, was beneficial. She was greatly 
 relieved, and at the proper time united herself 
 
62 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 to the Church — both she and her husband — 
 who was afterward chosen ruling elder of Bethel 
 Union, and so continued until the day of his 
 death. 
 
 It was noised abroad that "little Tommy 
 CI eland/' as I was familiarly called, had com- 
 menced preaching. At the appointed time I 
 found the house filled to overflowing. There 
 was considerable seriousness and solemnity. 
 Here a younger sister of Mrs. Cunningham, 
 was seriously awakened, and perhaps some 
 others. At a second meeting at the same place, 
 the ensuing week, another sister was, for the 
 first time, brought under pungent conviction. 
 Both sisters shortly afterward professed hope 
 in Christ, and both continue this day, as they 
 have for many years, to adorn the doctrines of 
 God and our Savior, by a holy walk and godly 
 conversation. Two other sisters became after- 
 ward the fruits of my early ministry — all yet 
 living. 
 
 The next effort I made by appointment was 
 at my grand-father's (Richards). This appoint- 
 ment was made for Sabbath afternoon, an hour 
 or two before sunset. A vast multitude, at- 
 tracted by novelty or curiosity, attended. The 
 house could hold but a small portion of them. 
 We had to resort to the yard in front — the 
 door-steps to be used as the platform. Two 
 
LH l. 01 DR. CLELAND. 08 
 
 were present — one of the Methodist 
 and the other of the Baptist persuasion. I 
 earnestly requested them, as they were author- 
 ized preachers, to go forward and commence 
 the meeting. They both refused, saying, the 
 people would be disappointed, having all come 
 out expecting to hear me; that I must lead 
 the way at all events, and they would follow 
 and aid nie all they could. I took my stand 
 on the door-steps, singing, praying, exhorting, 
 I scarcely knew how. I was not agitated — I 
 opened my mouth, and utterance w T as given 
 me. There was no stop — no stammering. 
 The multitude, densely standing together, was 
 greatly moved. The two preachers went in 
 among them, singing, praying, exhorting. 
 Some fell to the ground, and others pressed 
 around, begging us most earnestly and feel- 
 ingly to pray for them. I was in a sitting pos- 
 ture, on the grassy yard ; some fell across my 
 legs, as they were extended; others kneeling 
 all around me ; so that I was, for awhile, 
 almost crowded to suffocation. In that position 
 I prayed for them, exhorted and encouraged 
 them to flee to Christ. The two preachers, 
 Robert Chambers, Methodist, and Owen Owens, 
 Baptist, were actively employed in other parts 
 of the crowd. 
 
64 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 This meeting, I have reason to hope, was at- 
 tended with favorable results. Another was 
 appointed the next Sabbath, at the same time 
 and place. The evening was fair and pleasant ; 
 the people flocked in crowds, from the distance 
 of ten miles around. The two preachers, with 
 one other from Springfield (Rev. Jesse Head), 
 were again in attendance. I felt my great 
 weakness and responsibility. The task and 
 burden appeared great, and really overwhelm- 
 ing, for one so young and inexperienced. 
 While the people were gathering from all quar- 
 ters, I retired into a little back room, partly to 
 compose myself, and to reflect and pray, and 
 likewise to give opportunity to the ministers 
 present to commence the service. But, no, 
 this must not be. I was hunted up in my pri- 
 vate retirement. I had lain myself down upon 
 the bed, and was willing to remain there, while 
 one of the ministers should go forward and 
 preach a short sermon. But all my stratagems 
 and pleadings were unavailing. Go forward I 
 must and did, pursuing the same course, with 
 similar results, only more extensive than those 
 that attended the previous meeting. 
 
 Here was the commencement of the first 
 revival of religion ever enjoyed by that neigh- 
 borhood. It was the work of God, and not 
 
LIFE OF DR. ( LELAND. 
 
 the work of man. This must appear evident 
 from the whole aspect of it, as well as from the 
 feeble instrumentalities employed in it. 
 
 There being no organized church of the 
 Presbyterian denomination in the neighbor- 
 hood, and myself having no official authority to 
 do any thing, and, indeed, fearful lest I was a 
 violator of good order, a number who pro- 
 1 religion were either proselyted, or in- 
 dueed to join the different denominations 
 around, especially those represented by those 
 ministers who participated on the several occa- 
 sions. There were, however, some dozen or so 
 wh# held on, until a church, of which I subse- 
 quently became pastor, was organized, and with 
 which they became ecclesiastically connected. 
 
66 LIFE OF DR. ( LELAND. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 His Marriage — Character of Mrs. Cleland — Appearance in Pres- 
 bytery as a Candidate for the Ministry — Difficulties and En- 
 couragements — Second Appearance in Presbytery in 1802 — 
 Method of Study — Third Appearance in Presbjtery — Fourth 
 Appearance and Licensure in 1803 — Early Labors in the Min- 
 istry — Organization of Union Church — Ordination, October, 
 1801 — Missionary Tour to Vincennes in 1805. 
 
 [On the 22d of October, 1801, a few weeks 
 after the meeting at Hite's Spring, Mr. Cleland 
 was married to Miss Margaret Armstrong, 
 daughter of the late Capt. John Armstrong, 
 within the bounds of the New Providence 
 Church, of which he was afterward the pastor. 
 Of this excellent and godly woman, he himself 
 says, writing in 1848—] 
 
 This union, should it continue till the en- 
 suing fall (1848), will have completed forty- 
 seven years. This is the one divinely allotted 
 to me, kind, attentive, plain, industrious, frugal, 
 and, above ail, I hope pious ; she has in various 
 ways helped me forward in the ministry. She 
 has made me the father of ten* children— seven 
 
 * These are: Elizabeth Cleland (Mrs. Jer. Wm. Pawling), 
 born September 2, 1802. Paulina Cleland, born May 14, 1804. 
 Priscilla A. G. Cleland, born July 18, 1806. Clarinda C. Cle- 
 land, born Aug. 17, 1808. Philip S. Cleland, born Nov. 27, 
 1811. John W. Cleland, born Feb. 24, 1814. Thos. H. Cleland, 
 born Dec. 19, 1816. Mary L. Cleland, born May 29, 1819. 
 William E. Cleland, born Oct. 19, 1824. 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 07 
 
 of whom are yet living, doing well as to the 
 things of this world — all members of the Pres- 
 byterian Church. 
 
 [Writing again, January 31, 1855, just three 
 years before his own death, he says — ] 
 
 Since the foregoing sketch was penned (in 
 the fall of 1848) various changes have occurred 
 which deserve special notice. The most afflic- 
 tive one is the death of my good wife, which 
 distressing bereavement took place the 24th of 
 April, 1854. A young minister, who was one 
 of ( iny theological pupils, says: "Mrs. Cleland 
 was one of the best women in Kentucky, and 
 a better minister's wife I never knew." She 
 was much esteemed by a large circle of friends 
 and relatives, far and near. Her loss in the 
 congregation and neighborhood is universally 
 regretted. I need not say how much I feel her 
 absence in my lonely hours, both night and 
 day. She was a little over 75 years old when 
 she died. My dear mother died 55 years ago 
 this day. 
 
 [To this tender and delicate tribute to the 
 memory of Mrs. Cleland not a word should be 
 added by another hand. Her children rise up 
 and call her blessed; her husband, also, and he 
 praiseth her. 
 
 The marriage took place during the session 
 of Presbytery, in the IsTewt Providence Church. 
 
68 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 He thus relates what took place in Presbytery 
 the same evening — ] 
 
 The Presbytery, consisting of three minis- 
 ters — a bare quorum — being invited, had ad- 
 journed to the place of marriage. Some time 
 after supper — ten or eleven o'clock — I was con- 
 ducted by one of the members (Mr. Cameron) 
 before the body, for the purpose, as I supposed, 
 of obtaining the license for exhortation, as had 
 been intimated by Mr. Eobertson, who, as yet, 
 was not a member of Presbytery. 
 
 They first examined me on experimental re- 
 ligion ; then respecting my views of what con- 
 stituted a call to the ministry — all which I sup- 
 posed was necessary, and preparatory to the 
 anticipated license. The next inquiry was as 
 to how far I had progressed in my course of 
 literature, and if I had not had in view the 
 gospel ministry. Having received the desired 
 information, the next inquiry was, Could I not 
 be induced to become a candidate for the gos- 
 pel ministry ? To this I replied without any 
 hesitation in the negative. I readily stated my 
 difficulties, which had all been looked at again 
 and again — all fresh in my recollection, and 
 considered long since as insurmountable — so 
 much so that, immediately on my father's de- 
 cease, that matter had been palpably and finally 
 settled. They labored with me to remove, at 
 
LIFE 01 DR. CLELAND. 
 
 . the most appalling difficulties; and at anj 
 
 rate urged upon me a reconsideration of the 
 subject, and at the same time inviting me to 
 another interview with them next morning, 
 hoping by that time that my views on that sub- 
 ject might undergo some favorable change. 
 
 The morning arrived) and agreeable to prom- 
 ise and expectation, I was again before the 
 Presbytery. But I was just where they had 
 left me; I had made no progress on the subject 
 under consideration. I was still, and to the 
 last, as determined on the negative as before. 
 With a vast amount of domestic cares and 
 other avocations-rwith an unfinished educa- 
 tion — no theological instructor, and no books 
 to aid my studies, how was it possible for one 
 in my condition to think of entering the pulpitl 
 
 Again the Presbytery labored in all kindness 
 and tenderness to bring my mind to an acqui- 
 escence. Being apprized of the peculiarities of 
 my case and circumstances, they gave me to 
 understand that all allowance would be made, 
 and all leniency exercised, and any assistance 
 in their power should be rendered. All these 
 encouragements, however, did not relieve my 
 apprehensions, or relieve me from my embar- 
 rassments. I still responded unhesitatingly and 
 candidly in the negative. I could not c< 
 entiously do otherwise. They then selected a 
 
TO LIFE OF BR. CLELAtfB. 
 
 text for me to write on, 1 Cor. ix : 16 ; "Wo is 
 me, if I preach not the gospel." This was con- 
 sidered an appropriate subject for reflection— 
 that it might lead my mind in the right direc- 
 tion — and that by the Spring Presbytery, which 
 they wished me to attend, I might be fully sat- 
 isfied as to the path of duty. In the meantime 
 I had privilege to hold social meetings, to ex- 
 hort my neighbors ; and endeavor in that and 
 in other ways to do them all the good I could. 
 Thus I considered the matter at an end until 
 the next spring™ that I was on a kind of pro- 
 bation, and left entirely optionary with me 
 whether to make the effort or not, at the spring 
 meeting of the Presbytery. 2sot having any 
 knowledge of Presbyterial proceedings, I no 
 more dreamed of being regularly entered as a 
 candidate for the gospel ministry than I did of 
 being registered among the Levites as a can- 
 didate for the office of high priesthood. But 
 so it is. I stand recorded on their minutes as 
 having been introduced to the notice of Pres- 
 bytery as a candidate for the gospel ministry. 
 The usual examination on experimental re- 
 ligion—my views of what constituted a call to 
 the gospel ministry*— all sustained, and the 
 above text assigned me as a part of trial for the 
 next Presbytery, I was thus, I may say, com- 
 pletely taken in; or, to speak more technically, 
 
mm. 01 i'il. CLELAN1 . 71 
 
 ." as the Mexicans do their wild horses 
 to train them for future usefulness. Of one 
 thing I am certain: I did not appear volun* 
 tartly before the Presbytery and say, "Here am 
 I, send me." Yet I hope I am not one of those 
 who run, not being sent. 
 
 From these new and interesting' scenes I turn 
 toward home with additional cares and respon- 
 sibilities. They were great enough before, as 
 one might think, for one of my age and inex- 
 perience — being now live months in my twenty- 
 fourth year. To be sure I had now procured 
 me a suitable help-meet for life— the one whom 
 " God gave to be with me." 
 
 But besides all these accumulated cares and 
 avocations already mentioned, here is one, more 
 weighty and responsible than them all put to- 
 gether — -the ministry — preparation for the minis- 
 try — shall I attempt it or not? I thought my 
 mind on that subject had been irrecoverably 
 fixed ; but now I find it must go to work again. 
 
 During the fall and winter 1 held religious 
 meetings regularly every Sabbath, at one place 
 and another, and I think nearly every other 
 night in the week, around at different points ; 
 sometimes four or five miles distant. The 
 labors and burdens of the day, which were 
 neither few nor small, frequently disqualified 
 me for this night service. But so it was ; the 
 
LIFE 01 DE. OLELANDa 
 
 calls and invitations were very pressing and 
 numerous, and almost irresistible, 
 
 One tender incident I will here relate. I had 
 an appointment one night about live miles dis- 
 tant, at the house of a sick man, who was not 
 religious. As usual the house was well filled. 
 I used no book on these occasions but the 
 hymn-book ; but, nevertheless, to avoid a mere 
 desultory address, I generally had a text con- 
 cealed as a nucleus of my thoughts — -as some 
 called it afterward, "Smothering a text" Around 
 this, after a few introductory remarks, was 
 clustered the leading thoughts of my discourse. 
 The subject that night was God's address to 
 ISToah, Gen. vii: 1, "Come, thou and thy house, 
 into the ark." The labors of the clay had so 
 oppressed me that I felt an unusual heaviness — 
 a dragging— as though I was about to make a 
 failure. The services concluded, the congre- 
 gation dispersed, and I departed with the rest. 
 On my way home I fell in company with Miss 
 Hundly, younger sister of Mrs. Cunningham, 
 before alluded to. She affectionately inquired 
 of me when I would appoint a meeting at her 
 father's house, particularly on her mother's 
 account, who was greatly afflicted with rheu- 
 matic disease, and still without religious influ- 
 ence. My reply was to this effect : " I have 
 been thinking probably I ought to make no 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 73 
 
 more appointments after having fulfilled those 
 I have on hand." She inquired the reason for 
 such a determination. My unusually depressed 
 feeling that night helped to dictate my reply, 
 which was, that " I felt discouraged, that I did 
 not know that I was doing any good," etc., etc. 
 Her reply was, and I shall never forget it, "If 
 it will afford any relief to your discouragement, 
 I can inform you that I trust the Lord has 
 made you the instrument of my poor soul's 
 salvation." I was too much affected to make 
 any reply, and very shortly our roads parted, 
 and I was left to wend the remainder of the 
 road home alone. It was a starlight night. 
 My road lay three or four miles through a 
 dense forest. I can scarcely tell how I got 
 home. Such an alternate exercise of depres- 
 sion and extac} T — of joy and humility — of grat- 
 itude and grief! I had, while a student at 
 Pisgah, fully set it down in my own mind that 
 should I ever he the favored instrument in 
 saving one soul, that would be reward enough — 
 all I would ask — would be completely satisfied. 
 And now, lo ! even before I have even entered 
 the sacred ministry, here is the tender intima- 
 tion ; yea, the astonishing annunciation, or 
 rather the overwhelming declaration, from the 
 lips of a living witness, that God had made 
 
74 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 me, yes, unworthy me, the honored instrument 
 of her salvation. Was it enough? Was I 
 willing to stop here, as having an ample 
 reward ? E"o answer to these interrogatories is 
 necessary. 
 
 During the winter of 1801-2, amid a pres- 
 sure of worldly avocations, with alternate ele- 
 vations and depressions in regard to my present 
 operations and future prospects and underta- 
 kings, my meetings were continued with favor- 
 able prospects, particularly on Sabbath days. 
 Sometime during the latter end of the winter, 
 having an appointment by invitation at the 
 house of a Mr. Webster, one of my auditors 
 was a female somewhat advanced in years. She 
 informed me where she resided ; said that she 
 had formerly been a member of the Presbyte- 
 rian Church in the State of Pennsylvania. She 
 expressed an earnest desire that I would ap- 
 point a meeting at their house. I did so, and 
 gave her the privilege of the fourth Sabbath in 
 March. That appointment was attended with 
 encouraging prospects ; so much so, that it be- 
 came, from that time until long after I entered 
 the public ministry, the stated monthly Sabbath 
 of my attendance there. I mention this cir- 
 cumstance to note the leadings of an unerring 
 and overruling Providence, which appears to 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAXI*. "('■) 
 
 me, at this distant period, free from all obscurity 
 and intricacy. Jt will be more fully noticed in 
 the proper place. 
 
 Tin' text, in the meantime, which had been 
 
 assigned me as a subject for consideration, was 
 not forgotten. I examined it as well as I could. 
 I had no living theological instructor, nor had 
 I a half-dozen theological hooks: "Boston's 
 Four-fold Slate;" "Booth's Beign of Grace," 
 and, "Glad Tidings," by same author, with 
 " Edwards on the Affections," and Bike's and 
 Hayward's "Cases of Conscience" — the last 
 two being of a casuistic and practical character. 
 The nearest to a system of divinity was "Fish- 
 er's and Erskine's Explanation of the Shorter 
 Catechism," which had been recommended to 
 me by the Bresbytery as a tolerably good out- 
 line of systematic course which I might pur- 
 sue. I had no commentator at that time. After 
 awhile I borrowed Barkett on the Xew Testa- 
 ment. I sat down, however, and as well as I 
 could (bunglingly enough to be sure) wrote 
 something in the shape of a sermon on that 
 text. Still I had no thought that it was for 
 the inspection of Bresbytery. It was never 
 transcribed. 
 
 The Presbytery was to meet early in April, 
 1802, at Beaver Creek Church, in Barren county, 
 far distant from my residence. I had rather 
 
76 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 come to the conclusion not to attend, thinking 
 that I ought to proceed no further in the mat- 
 ter ; that the Presbytery, as yet, had no par- 
 ticular supervision over me, and that I had no 
 special claim on them. The distance, with my 
 numerous and pressing secular concerns, aided 
 no little to help me to this conclusion of non- 
 attendance. But Providence ordered otherwise. 
 Joseph B. Lapsby, an amiable young man, and 
 nephew, by marriage, had just graduated at 
 Lexington, Va., and was on his way to appear 
 before Presbytery as a candidate. Being a great 
 favorite of his aunt, my wife, and both anxious 
 for me to go with him for company, etc., I 
 called my mind into, action, looked over my 
 secular affairs, changed my purpose, packed up 
 my clothes, barely thought to take my rude 
 manuscript along — and we put out. 
 
 The Presbytery met pursuant to adjourn- 
 ment. Opened w T ith sermon by moderator — 
 constituted with prayer. The minutes of pre- 
 vious session were read. And let any think of 
 my surprise when I heard it read that my name 
 was enrolled as a candidate for the ministry — 
 had been examined, etc., and that a text was as- 
 signed me for a written sermon, and which was 
 soon called for to be read before tbe Presbytery. 
 With some hesitation and embarrassment, as 
 might be expected, this was done. The custom 
 
LIFE OF nit. CLBLAND. 77 
 
 then was for the candidate, and all who were 
 not members, to retire, while remarks on the 
 performance were made with closed doors. 
 This was done in my case, and a member being 
 appointed (the Rev. David Rice), communi- 
 cated to me privately the remarks and views of 
 the Presbytery — that my performance was sus- 
 tained as a part of trial, and another assigned 
 me (Prov. i : 23), to be read at an intermediate 
 Presbytery, to be held early in the fall at Tick 
 Creek (now Mulberry) Church, Shelby county, 
 with instructions to prepare for examination on 
 Latin and Greek, etc. As for the study of theol- 
 ogy, mixed in with these studies, and almost 
 every thing else in domestic life that could be 
 conceived of, there was nothing said about it. 
 I must shift for myself, and get along the best 
 way I could. In those days there were n'o 
 education societies, no theological seminaries. 
 The custom was, if any young man wished to 
 study theology, and prepare for the ministry, 
 he must get in privately with some settled min- 
 ister, board in his family gratuitously, perhaps, 
 and in this solitary way arrive at length to the 
 pulpit. But even this privilege was denied me. 
 I was already settled in domestic life, with a 
 destitute family depending upon me. What 
 time I could have, under all these circum- 
 stances and privations, to study divinity and 
 
78 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 prepare for presbyterial examination, it was im- 
 possible to conceive. Having a tenacious mem- 
 ory, it was not difficult for me to retain what I 
 had read. But where was the leisure for read- 
 ing ? Day after day I was constantly employed. 
 I had to take the lead in manual labor, as well 
 as in the superintendence of domestic affairs 
 generally. I endeavored to redeem any hour I 
 could. The most of my reading was by candle- 
 light, sometimes an hour or two before day, 
 and sometimes late in the night. I was con- 
 sidered a good proficient in Latin and Greek, 
 I had paid some attention to Geometry, Trigo- 
 nometry, Euclid's Elements, etc. I procured 
 and read Ferguson's Astronomy, Natural Phi- 
 losophy, Blair's Rhetoric, Witherspoon's Moral 
 Philosophy, Elocution, etc. On all this I was 
 examined, and sustained without any difficulty. 
 
 As well as I remember, things went on as 
 well as usual until the meeting of Presbytery 
 at Tick Creek. There I appeared again and 
 was examined on the languages, my sermon 
 read, and all sustained as parts of trial for 
 licensure. Another text was given me for a 
 popular sermon, to be delivered at Presbytery 
 in the spring. Also further directions were 
 given to prepare for examination on Natural 
 and Moral Science, etc. 
 
 Where was the leisure and opportunity for 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 79 
 
 the study of divinity ? This, however, must 
 he attended to somehow. I found myself ex- 
 ceedingly deficient in Scriptural knowledge, as 
 
 well as in didactic and polemic theology. How 
 
 in my circumstances could it he otherwise? I 
 had not been religiously brought up — no one of 
 the family had professed religion hut myself. 
 
 If licensed the ensuing spring I must expect 
 to go through a pretty extensive examination. 
 This I supposed would not be a very rigid one, 
 as had been intimated, sensible of my great de- 
 ficiency in Biblical knowledge and other attain- 
 ments. There was one text that rested on my 
 mind with great force (Jas. i : 5). I received its 
 instruction implicitly, trusted in it with the 
 utmost reliance, and derived from it great 
 benefit. At the throne of grace I used it some- 
 what in this manner: Lord, here is thy servant, 
 about to be called into thy service, who " lacketh 
 wisdom." Thou knowest his lack of wisdom, 
 and that he is in some measure sensible of his 
 lack of wisdom. ' Now, Lord, here is thy prom- 
 ise, " If any man lack wisdom let him ask of 
 God, who giveth to all men liberally, and up- 
 hraideth them not, and it shall be given him." 
 Now, Lord, I do from my very heart, sensible 
 of my need, ask of Thee that wisdom which it 
 is thine to give. Do not call me into thy ser- 
 vice, as minister to thy Church, unless thou art 
 
80 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 pleased to bestow it." I am sure I never did 
 rely with more confidence upon any portion of 
 God's word than I did on this. I felt a stronger 
 assurance that this plea would he granted in 
 some way. I knew it would not be without 
 exertion on my part. I was not to expect it by 
 miracle, or by any extraordinary interposition 
 from heaven. Satisfied that I must read and 
 study, having no living teacher in reach, and 
 without a library, or time to profit by it if I had 
 one, my prayer was, that in the selection of 
 books, as my means might enable me from time 
 to time to procure, I might be directed to the 
 right sort, and prevented from procuring any 
 that might be unprofitable or detrimental to 
 me. In this, also, I have abundant reason to 
 believe I was divinely favored. I used very 
 faithfully what books I had, as well as those I 
 could borrow. 
 
 The winter season had passed away; the 
 time for the meeting of Presbytery arrives. I 
 had anticipated that meeting with considerable 
 anxiety. Then my expected licensure was to 
 take place. I had made all the preparation 
 for examination in my power. I had prepared 
 a sermon on the text assigned for a popular dis- 
 course (Rom. xii : 3). It was in its original 
 state, not transcribed, and but imperfectly 
 memorised. 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 81 
 
 Mr. W"m. Vance, also a candidate for licen- 
 sure, passed examination with me — a graduate 
 from Lexington College, Va. Efis sermon on 
 the text next preceding mine was first called 
 for, and mine was to follow. He read, and was 
 during the. performance considerably agitated. 
 I mse after him. There was no embarrass- 
 ment, no agitation — my sermon remained in 
 my pocket. I delivered it without much diffi- 
 culty; some portions were filled up extempo- 
 raneously, until I could get upon the track. 
 Our theological examinations heing gone 
 through with, we were both licensed at the 
 same time, April 14, 1803, in the old church at 
 Danville, Mercer county. The good people of 
 this and the churches in the Forks of Dix and 
 Kentucky rivers, had made arrangements for. 
 Mr. Vance's stated ministerial services. But 
 in this they were disappointed; for, after hav- 
 ing preached one sermon, as introductory to 
 his Labors, to each of these churches, he was 
 suddenly called from time to eternity. He was 
 a young man of promise, and teacher of an 
 academy in Danville. 
 
 His death caused great disappointment, and 
 T shall never forget the peculiar exercises of 
 my own mind, contemplating this inscrutable 
 providence. I felt that the stroke of death had 
 fallen on one just at my side — on one my supe- 
 
82 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 rior in literature as well as in every other qual- 
 ification for the Christian ministry. "Why was 
 the smooth, stately olive-tree cut clown so 
 early, while the rough, unsightly bramble, was 
 spared— more like a cumberer of the ground 
 than a fruit-bearing tree. But the wisdom of 
 God so ordained it. Mr. Vance was buried 
 beside the admired and lamented Cary Allen, 
 in a private grave-yard, near the head of Salt 
 river. 
 
 My first sermon after licensure was preached 
 the same evening at Robert Caldwell's, one of 
 the elders of the church, on a favorite text : 
 " Come thou and thy house into the ark." This 
 was near the close of my twenty-fourth year. 
 Being now a licentiate, I preached more boldly, 
 as one having authority. 
 
 By invitation I preached at Springfield, ten 
 miles north of my residence, and at Hardin's 
 Creek, now Lebanon. At both these places, or 
 rather at Road's Run, near the former, Rev. 
 Terah Templin had preached as their pastor ten 
 years. The Road's Run church had become 
 extinct, and in my early ministerial days had 
 been reorganized at Springfield, which town 
 had but recently sprung up. The other church 
 had only a struggling existence, until some 
 years afterward it was resuscitated. The most 
 encouraging field of my early labors was about 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 83 
 
 eight miles in an easterly direction, in the 
 neighborhood of the good lady's before alluded 
 to, at whose house I had kept up a regular 
 monthly appointment every fourth Sabbath. 
 
 It was here a church was gathered, consisting 
 of the aged couple, the head of this family, 
 whose names were Copeland, and seven others, 
 who had straggled off from other regions and 
 settled here. These were, early in the summer 
 of 1803, while I was yet a licentiate, organized 
 into a church, called Union, by Rev. Samuel B. 
 Robertson, the nearest minister, now pastor of 
 the churches of Cane Run and 'New Providence. 
 These nine constituted the nucleus around 
 which others were to be gathered. The meet- 
 ing was held in a grove, under a large poplar 
 and other shade trees. It was an interesting 
 time. Fifteen new members were added on that 
 occasion. At another meeting, in the fall of 
 the same year, fifteen more were added. A 
 small frame house was erected on the same spot 
 which I have seen many times crowded with 
 attentive, weeping, rejoicing persons of all 
 classes. Over this church I was ordained in 
 October, 1804, which numbered at that time, or 
 not long after, over one hundred members. 
 They were poor, and not able to invest in their 
 call for my labors once a month more than 
 $100. 
 
84 LIFE OF 'DR. CLELAND. 
 
 As I had all along supported myself by 
 manual labor, and still was compelled so to do, 
 I thought little or nothing of what is called 
 ministerial salary. Indeed, being raised up 
 right in the center of these three congregations, 
 to become their minister, it seemed as though 
 I naturally belonged to them, and was called to 
 preach to them, without much, if any, pecuniary 
 remuneration. There was a subscription in the 
 Springfield congregation of $40, and in that of 
 Hardin's Creek of $30, and in the collecting 
 thereof the amount fell short of these sums. 
 From a review of my memorandum of moneys 
 kept at that time, I did not receive, on an aver- 
 age, for a term of ten years, more than $150, 
 including salary, private donations, marriage 
 fees, etc. 
 
 The declaration of Christ to the Jews, " a 
 prophet is not without honor, save in his own 
 country," had determined me, if ever called 
 into the public ministry, to remove elsewhere. 
 But the declaration that "there are many de- 
 vices in man's heart, nevertheless the counsel 
 of the Lord shall stand," was forcibly illus- 
 trated in my case. It was the counsel of the 
 Lord, as has been shewn, that I should be sent 
 as a messenger to my own neighbors, with 
 whom I labored with great acceptance and suc- 
 cess, for the space of ten years. 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 85 
 
 I sometimes preached to them in my own 
 private dwelling, as well as others in the imme- 
 diate neighborhood. At Mr. Cunningham's, an 
 
 elder in Union church, I preached regularly 
 one night in eaeh week for three years, to a 
 regular, undiminished congregation. 
 
 Having one Sabbath not regularly occupied, 
 but to employ on special occasions abroad, as 
 Providence might seem to require, my neigh- 
 bors of different denominations united in erect- 
 ing a large, commodious log-house, as a neigh- 
 borhood meeting-house, common to all, but 
 especially devoted to my use, whenever I could 
 preach there, on my odd Sabbath. This being 
 central to my other places of preaching, and 
 not having any regular organization, my ap- 
 pointments here were largely attended, and the 
 result, as far as I could see, as favorable, and 
 even more so, than at any other place — my 
 Union Church excepted. This house was called 
 Bethel for some years, afterward Bethel Union, 
 from the circumstance that part of the Union 
 being set off for convenience to the Perry ville 
 church, the other part below were organized 
 at Bethel, with some from Hardin's Creek 
 church, and assumed the appropriate name of 
 Bethel Union, up to the present time. 
 
 Shortly after my licensure, by order of the 
 Presbytery, I visited several of our southern 
 
8t> LIFE OF DK. CLELAND. 
 
 counties, particularly Pulaski and Wayne. I 
 preached every day and night, to crowded, at- 
 tentive, and weeping congregations. Many of 
 them came from a distance to hear the first 
 Presbyterian preacher they ever heard in their 
 whole lives. I was the first of our order that 
 had ever preached in that region. Many, as I 
 learned, had been greatly prejudiced against 
 our denomination. They had been taught to 
 believe that we preached altogether from " the 
 head "—from our learning, as they termed it, 
 and not from the heart. But when they had 
 heard for themselves, they expressed no little 
 surprise, saying, "Why, he preaches," said one, 
 "like a Baptist" — another, "like a Methodist," 
 and still another, " Why, he preaches that we 
 must be born again — he preaches up experi- 
 ence ! " etc. Bat so it was. Though weak and 
 feeble — and the Lord knows it was weak in- 
 deed — many heard, repented, believed, and 
 were saved. The Lord gave his unworthy 
 young servant souls for his hire, in that wild 
 and destitute region. The people heard in 
 those days with more docility, affection, and 
 readiness, and with less fastidiousness than they 
 do now. Notwithstanding, if I may be the 
 judge, one of my sermons now, in regard to 
 matter and manner too, is intrinsically worth 
 more than a half dozen at least, of my early 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 87 
 
 efforts. And yet one of those sermons, hardly 
 deserving the name, seemed to tell with more 
 powerful effeet then, than a half a dozen — even 
 twice that number — do now. In those days 
 my "wild notes" seemed to have more effect 
 than all my " set music " has in the present 
 times. During the time of my licensure, from 
 the spring of 1803 to the fall of 1804, I had 
 made several excursions through those desti- 
 tute settlements, with encouraging success. I 
 preached day and night, from place to place, in 
 any house and neighborhood where the people 
 desired it, and appointments were made. 
 
 My ordination was arranged for October, 
 1804, at Union meeting-house. Rev. Joshua 
 L. Willson was ordained at the same time, as 
 pastor of the Bardstown and Big Spring 
 churches, their representatives being present 
 to sanction it — an extra method adopted by the 
 Presbytery on account of the great difficulty 
 and impracticability of securing a quorum in 
 those early times. 
 
 In the year 1805 he performed a missionary 
 tour to Vincennes, Indiana, of which he gives 
 this account : 
 
 " Transylvania Presbytery had no definite 
 limits, in a southern direction. It also included 
 Indiana, etc., on the north. In the spring of 
 1805 I was directed to visit Vincennes and the 
 
88 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 adjoining regions. It was an uninhabited route 
 I had to go* A small wilderness trace, with 
 only one residence on the way, in the most des- 
 titute part of the way, to entertain me during 
 the night. Here was my poor animal tied to a 
 tree, fed with the grain packed in a wallet from 
 Louisville, and myself stretched on the punch- 
 eon floor of a small cabin, for the night's rest. 
 All passed off, however, without any detriment 
 or discomfort. The next evening made up for 
 all previous privations. I was welcomed and 
 agreeably entertained at the governor's palace 
 during my stay at Yincennes. The late Wm. 
 H. Harrison, then a young man, with a Pres- 
 byterian wife, was governor of the Indiana 
 Territory, as it then was. He had recently 
 held a treaty with a certain tribe of Indians, 
 who assembled at Yincennes. 
 
 The first sermon I preached — and it was the 
 first ever preached in the place, at least by a 
 Presbyterian minister — was in the council - 
 house, but a short time before occupied by the 
 sons of the forest. I preached, also, in a set- 
 tlement twenty miles up the Wabash, where 
 were a few Presbyterian families, chiefly from 
 Shelby county, Ky. They were so anxious to 
 have me settle among them that they proffered 
 to send all the way to Kentucky to remove my 
 family, without any trouble or expense to my- 
 
LIFE OF DK. CLELAND. 
 
 ! esides offering me a generous Bupport. I, 
 Bomehow or other, from the beginning of do- 
 mestic life, bad my mind determined on re- 
 siding in a free, State; and here was an inviting 
 
 prospect. 1 was indeed anxious to comply with 
 their wishes. But, besides the heavy contest 
 for my land with old Col. Shelby, now in pro- 
 cess of litigation, the Lord was showing me 
 special favor with my people at home by an 
 unusual blessing upon my labors. But still 
 they were not willing to give the matter up, 
 and that we might have a little more time to 
 reflect and inquire of the Lord what was his 
 will and pleasure concerning the wished for 
 change in my field of labor, I engaged to make 
 them a returned visit the next year. I did re- 
 turn at the time appointed. The prospect 
 seemed brighter than before. I was welcomed 
 on all sides, by men of the world as w T ell as by 
 men of the church. And what was more, I 
 was welcomed by some poor sinners too, whom 
 the Lord gave me, as souls for my hire. And 
 though 1 was prevented from settling among 
 them, for the reason already specified, yet for 
 a number of years afterward I received mes- 
 sages from those who claimed me as their spir- 
 itual father; and, for aught that I know, some 
 remain there till the present day." 
 
yO LIFE 01' L»K. OLELAXL*. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 His Plans for the Diffusion of Religious Knowledge — School 
 of the Prophets — Removal to Mercer County — The First 
 House of Worship at Harrodsburg Destroyed — Built and Re- 
 built — Erection of New Providence Meeting-house — Great 
 Revival of 1823-28, and its Results. 
 
 [The methods for self-culture, and for the 
 diffusion of religious knowledge among the 
 people, are not the least interesting of his re- 
 mi niscenses.] 
 
 In the year 1806 I commenced a correspond- 
 ence with a book-seller in Philadelphia (W. W. 
 Woodward), who was then publishing the best 
 theological works the times afforded, and from 
 him I received my first invoice of books, amount- 
 ing to little upward of nine dollars. It was 
 indeed to me a little treasure. Here was Guise's 
 Paraphrase of the New Testament, Brown's 
 Dictionary of the Bible, Butterworth's Con- 
 cordance, and Mason's Student and Pastor. 
 This was the commencement of a growing, 
 select library, which for a number of years 
 afterward w T as pronounced to be the best min- 
 ister's library in the whole connection. It was 
 gathered gradually, read carefully, and digested 
 thoroughly. 
 
 I soon found that others wanted books all 
 
LIFE 01 DR. OLELANL. 91 
 
 around me. I endeavored to procure them at 
 intervals, until, in process of time, the amount 
 of invoices Prom that one man was upward of 
 §3,000. The prices then were high, and so was 
 freight, compared with what they are now. 
 The little discount from the retail price of books 
 sold my neighbors, enabled me to increase my 
 library gradually. I have often thought my 
 library was procured in answer to prayer; and, 
 besides the great advantage to me, I soon found 
 that the books I scattered abroad were of not a 
 little advantage in aiding and facilitating my 
 ministry among a people who needed good 
 books as well as myself. 
 
 What time I could spare from my own per- 
 sonal labor, which seemed necessary at par- 
 ticular times on the farm, I spent in reading at 
 home and itinerating abroad, in distant settle- 
 ments. Indeed, my whole field might justly 
 be called missionary ground. 
 
 By this time my correspondence with my 
 Philadelphia bookseller began to enlarge; my 
 little stock of books began to increase. These 
 I almost idolized. Every page was carefully 
 read, and every thing new and important was 
 noted down on a blank leaf. From this course 
 I derived great benefit. 
 
 By my own suggestion the following plan 
 was carried out at Union. A small box, with 
 
92 LIFE OP DR. CLELAND. 
 
 lock and key, was fixed under the pulpit board, 
 with a hole above, like a money drawer, into 
 which were dropped small strips of paper, with 
 such inquiries as, "What is the meaning of 
 such and such a text?" naming the chapter and 
 verse. "How do you reconcile such a passage 
 with another that seems to contradict it?" 
 Sometimes a case of conscience was stated for 
 inquiry and advice. These papers were to be 
 anonymous, for reasons that are obvious. The 
 benefit would accrue, not only to the unknown 
 individual, but others would become interested. 
 The box was to be examined every day of 
 preaching, the papers taken out and read pub- 
 licly, and the answer was to be given after the 
 close of the sermon the next day in course. 
 This arrangement afforded me an opportunity 
 to inform myself more fully about some of 
 those matters that I was not prepared to answer 
 right away. It served also, no doubt, to awaken 
 inquiry and to excite investigation and increase 
 attendance at the house of God. This device 
 I found to be of considerable service to myself. 
 There were matters brought up in this way that 
 I had never thought of, and which occasioned 
 no little research and investigation, in order to 
 find out the solution. The very first draw I 
 made contained some five or six strips, one of 
 which presented some half-dozen apparent con- 
 
LIFE OF DR. CL ELAND. 93 
 
 tradictiona in the Bible to be reconciled. This 
 little instruction was attended to for some time, 
 and became very interesting, both to pastor and 
 people. 
 
 [It is well known that Mr. Cleland's house 
 became "a school of the prophets" before the 
 establishment of theological seminaries, and 
 that several of those who took rank among 1 the 
 most useful Presbyterian ministers in the West, 
 pursued their professional studies under his 
 direction. We subjoin such notices of this part 
 of his labors as are contained in the manu- 
 script.] 
 
 In those days there were no education so- 
 cieties, no theological seminaries — none of the 
 benevolent institutions and facilities for the 
 promotion of literature and an educated min- 
 istry, as are every where to be found at the 
 present day ; and, moreover, there were very 
 few pious young men any where to be found, 
 who appeared willing to set their laces in that 
 direction. The General Assembly saw the 
 great scarcity of ministers in her connection, 
 and but little prospect of a sufficient number 
 coming forward to supply the annual decrease 
 occasioned by death. The Assembly seeing 
 this, and having no other remedy to afford, 
 recommended most urgently on each Presby- 
 tery to look out within their bounds for at 
 
94 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 least one poor and pious youth, who might be 
 induced to turn his attention to the gospel min- 
 istry, and if they thought him a desirable object 
 for selection, to patronize him, induce the 
 churches to help, and to do any thing they 
 could in this way to enlarge the number of the 
 ministry — without which they must soon be 
 found fast diminishing. 
 
 The first young man of this description within 
 the bounds of Transylvania Presbytery was Na- 
 than H. Hall. He was the son of a respectable 
 Baptist preacher ; but professing religion among 
 the Presbyterians, at the same time conceiving 
 a preference for their doctrinal views and mode 
 of worship, he applied for admittance to mem- 
 bership at Danville, in the spring of 1802, on a 
 sacramental occasion held in a grove in the 
 suburbs of the town. There he was received 
 and publicly baptized at the stand, in the open 
 air, and before a large congregation. After 
 going from one place to another, in pursuit of 
 a literary education, he was at length placed 
 under my supervision. 
 
 The number of young men, from first to last, 
 who were under my supervision, as students of 
 divinity, were some fourteen or fifteen, viz : K". 
 H. Hall, John P. Morel and, Jas. 0. Barnes, 
 Chas. Phillips, Saml. Wilson, John H. Brown, 
 Wm, Dixon, Robt. L. Mafee, Wm. H. For- 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 95 
 
 sythe, Robt, Hamilton, David Todd, Robt. 
 Caldwell, F. R. Gray, Joshua II. Wilson, and 
 G. Moore. All are yet living except three, 
 viz: Hamilton, Moreland and Wilson. The 
 last never reached the pulpit. Some of these 
 young men were with me six months, some 
 twelve, and others two years. Some were in 
 indigent circumstances, and received their 
 board, etc., gratuitously ; some at half price, or 
 as suited their circumstances or convenience. 
 I mention this fact for no other purpose but 
 the glory of God, which will be adverted to at 
 the proper place below. My circumstances were 
 by no means affluent; my salary, if it deserved 
 the name, quite small and inadequate ; my chief 
 dependence being my own barn and store-house. 
 My wife manufactured the most of our domestic 
 wear for ordinary purposes ; our family, too, 
 was at an age to demand increased attention 
 and expense. We were compelled to use the 
 strictest economy, both as to time and means ; 
 yet, notwithstanding all these things, we had 
 no lack; we sat under our own vine and fig- 
 tree, enjoying peace and plenty. I never had 
 had an empty pocket, entirely, since I had com- 
 menced domestic life. 
 
 [He moved to Mercer county to take charge 
 of New Providence Church, in 1813. He thus 
 sums up his life and labors up to that period.] 
 
96 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 And now I bid farewell, as a citizen, to 
 "Washington county, where I spent twenty-three 
 years of my most vigorous and active life; and 
 may I not say, the most eventful and impor- 
 tant, responsible and critical portion of my 
 whole life ? Between seven and eight years I 
 was on father's farm in the day, and among 
 the wolves and wild-cats at night. Between 
 three and four years away from home in pur- 
 suit of various studies ; two years a public ex- 
 horter, and ten years a licensed and ordained 
 preacher, I was now within a month or so of 
 being 85 years old. The good people of Spring- 
 field and Hardin's Creek parted from me re- 
 luctantly. But as they gave me but a trifling 
 pittance for my support, they could not urge 
 me to remain, and feel that I was under any 
 obligation to do so. The place where Lebanon 
 stands was occupied by one dwelling and a 
 horse-mill. Between me and my hearers, pro- 
 fessors and non -professors, there was not one 
 jarring note of discord, no hostility, or bad 
 feeling. ~Not a man or woman, or child, either 
 white or black, saint or sinner, in either of 
 those churches, or the immediate neighbor- 
 hood, where I was in a measure brought up, 
 could have been found, as ever I knew, to lift 
 up a silent finger in approbation of my depart- 
 ure. I make no boast of this from any thing 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. !•< 
 
 uncommon in me, more than in other i 
 But I must and do ascribe all to the mercy and 
 goodness of God, that hath followed me from 
 the beginning, and taught me long since and 
 forever to say, "By the grace of God I am 
 what I am." 
 
 [The narrative of h;s labors in his new field 
 is in these words.] 
 
 I arrived in Mercer county the 31st of March , 
 1813. Having no house ready for our recep- 
 tion, we occupied one temporarily, belonging 
 to my brother-in-law, John Armstrong. I had 
 bought me a small farm of 168 acres, contiguous 
 to the church, New Providence. It was all in 
 forest except a few acres. A few logs were 
 collected to build me a house. I had accepted 
 a unanimous call, with §250 engaged for my 
 support, from the united congregations of New 
 Providence and Cane Run, recently under the 
 care of Rev. Saml. B. Robertson, who, after 
 being their pastor for ten years, left them in a 
 very declining condition. Nearly one-fifth of 
 this amount, small as it was, I did not realize. 
 I had assisted the pastor of these churches so 
 long and so often, as well as having married in 
 an extensive connection in one of them, that I 
 was almost as familiar with the people as the 
 pa-tor himself. Hence the great unanimity in 
 lo 
 
98 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 the invitation, which, however, does not so well 
 harmonize with their liberality. 
 
 After laboring much with my own hands, 
 preparing material for building, quarrying rock 
 for foundation and chimneys, and clearing 
 ground, fencing, etc., etc., in all of which I took 
 a large share, I entered my new dwelling, the 
 same I still occupy, in September of the same 
 year. 
 
 I entered on my pastoral duties in the Xew 
 Providence Church the first Sabbath in April, 
 1813. My stated times of preaching were the 
 first and third Sabbath in each month, the second 
 at Cane Run, and fourth at Union, which being 
 in Mercer county, I had not given up when I 
 left Washington county, and which I continued 
 to occupy three years longer. But finding it 
 too distant (20 miles) and inconvenient, I re- 
 linquished, not without a considerable struggle, 
 a field I had so long cultivated and a people 
 near my heart, if not like Paul's beloved Phil- 
 lippians, uppermost in my affections ; where I 
 had enjoyed so many precious seasons, and 
 where, I trust, I had gained over so many souls 
 to Christ. But the indications of Providence 
 seemed to require it, and I gave them over to 
 the pastoral care of Pev. Terah Templin. 
 
 The Sabbath that I had employed there was 
 
LIFE 01 DR. CLBLAND. 99 
 
 engaged by a Bmall church of the Dutch Rc- 
 formed, four miles south of Elarrodsburg. For 
 my services they paid me promptly $50, in 
 semi-annual installments. Tins church, after 
 awhile, became extinct, as a separate organiza- 
 tion, and was amalgamated with others, prin- 
 cipally with the Presbyterians in their vicinity. 
 
 Ilavii s assumed a regular pastoral relation 
 by installment, October 4th, Sabbath, 1813, over 
 the New Providence and Cane Run churches, 
 I required of the elders the number and the 
 names of the members. I soon ascertained 
 that they had kept no sessional records — not 
 even a register of church members or of bap- 
 tized children. The deficiency was supplied, 
 in a measure, by personal knowledge of the 
 individual members. The number of members 
 in New Providence church at that time was 
 77, and of Cane Run 50 ; and ten years after, 
 under my ministry, there were numbered in 
 New Providence church just 77 more. 
 
 After the old revival in 1800-1803, there 
 had been an awful spiritual dearth in all the 
 churches, many churches receiving very tew, 
 some no accessions at all, for upward of twenty 
 years. During that whole time no revival was 
 known through the whole limits of Kentucky, 
 unless it may have been, now and then, among 
 other denominations. 
 
100 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 The old church at Cane Eun became so much 
 decayed as to be incapable of sheltering a con- 
 gregation with comfort; and being also much 
 environed with plantations, making it difficult 
 of access. Besides, the majority of the con- 
 gregation being on the west side of Salt Elver, 
 it was concluded to move the place of preach- 
 ing to Harrodsburg. This arrangement was 
 made in 1816. The town of Harrodsburg was 
 then very small ; the buildings few and very 
 inferior ; there being only one brick dwelling 
 and the old stone court-house, where we held 
 worship, until a more suitable building could 
 be put up. This was done by a union and co- 
 operation of the trustees of the seminary and 
 the building committee of the church. It was 
 soon found, on account of the inconvenience of 
 the location, and the limited dimensions of the 
 house, with a rapidly increasing congregation, 
 that it would not answer the desired purpose; 
 and while contemplating a new arrangement, 
 the Lord sent a strong north-wester, which 
 overturned the whole building, and razed it to 
 the ground. This occurred on the 8th of March, 
 1819, being Sabbath-day, but providentially, at 
 a time not occupied. 
 
 By this unexpected event we were thrown 
 back into the old court-house. I concluded 
 that my ministry must soon terminate with this 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 101 
 
 people, principally for the want of a suitable 
 house of worship. The first sermon I preached 
 on our retreat to the old house was from 1 
 Chron. xvii: 1, "David said unto Nathan, be- 
 hold I dwdl in an house of cedars, but the ark of 
 the covenant of the Lord remaineth under curtains " 
 This discourse was prepared expressly for the 
 occasion, and, as I learned afterward, had a 
 most powerful and salutary effect upon the 
 minds of the audience, in influencing them to 
 build a house for the ark of the covenant. It 
 was, I believe, this simple effort, as appeared in 
 the result, which ultimately secured the erec- 
 tion of the brick church, so long occupied by 
 that people. 
 
 The Xew Providence church was erected 
 partly by subscription and partly by the sale of 
 pews. In this edifice I invested out of my 
 scanty means $150, which I have no cause to 
 regret even to this day, and the lack of which 
 I never felt — the Lord amply supplying me 
 from other sources. In this church I have 
 labored just thirty-five years, from April 1st, 
 1813, to April 1st, 1848 — one-half of my time, 
 first and third Sabbath in each month. 
 
 A minute history of this whole period, in 
 this and the Ilarrodsburg church, to whom I 
 preached in all twenty-six years, when I volun- 
 tarily gave up this charge to the present in cum- 
 
L02 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 bent (Eev. John Montgomery), would of itself 
 make a small volume. My withdrawal was on 
 account of advancing 1 age and inconvenience, 
 not being able, at the distance of seven miles, 
 to perform pastoral duties, and to render ade- 
 quate services for the benefit of the growing 
 town and congregation. There was no discord 
 between me and the church from the beginning; 
 they greatly desired my continuance, and re- 
 moval to the town. By my permission the 
 effort was made, but the indications of Provi- 
 dence did not justify such an arrangement. 
 Time has shown what was the will of Provi- 
 dence in regard to my future labors and fields 
 of usefulness, I have great reason to be humble 
 and thankful for the many signal favors and 
 blessings the Lord hath bestowed upon me 
 during my ministry in Harrodsburg Church. 
 Many happy seasons have I witnessed there, 
 and many seals were added to my ministry. 
 
 About the year 1823 we may date the com- 
 mencement of a noiseless, gentle,' and gradual 
 revival of religion in the New Providence 
 church, which continued without any percept- 
 ible abatement for six or seven years, during 
 which time there were added 240 members. 
 The congregation was large and extensive, and 
 mostly of a Presbyterian character. There had 
 been a small increase of 77 members, during 
 
LIFE OF DB. CLBLA] LOS 
 
 the ten first yours of my ministry. Of these 
 not more than a dozen wore of the youth of 
 the congregation, now quite numerous. Our 
 sacramental seasons were quarterly, after the 
 completion of our now house. The communi- 
 cants occupied the pews during the administer- 
 ing the ordinance, instead of t lie slab tables and 
 benches, as formerly. The use of tokens was 
 also dispensed with, to the great satisfaction 
 and convenience of pastor and people. By the 
 old plan much time was consumed, so that in 
 the preaching, baptizing, administering the 
 elements, etc., five hours were consumed. 
 
 The first year of the revival some dozen (all 
 married persons) were added to the church. 
 After that as many more, and sometimes 
 double that number, at each periodical com- 
 munion. In giving an account of their con- 
 version, they ascribed it, from first to last, to 
 the preaching of the word; they could specify 
 the sermon the pastor preached, either at the 
 church or elsewhere. 
 
 But ere long the good work commenced in 
 among the young people, and ceased not until 
 they were nearly all gathered into the church — 
 not one young female in the whole congrega- 
 tion of New Providence was left out, and not 
 more than a half dozen of the youth of the other 
 sex. 
 
104 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 Dunns: the half of these meetings I minis- 
 terecl alone ; but this seemed to make no change. 
 We never occupied more than four days. 
 During these occasions I preached six or seven 
 sermons without exhaustion, or even fatigue. 
 These were often our most precious seasons. 
 We knew nothing of protracted meeting, so 
 common in these days. The churches of New 
 Providence and Harrodsburg grew up gradu- 
 ally in this way, and much faster than they 
 have done since — the converts showing to better 
 advantage, exhibiting more piety, stability, and 
 consistency. 
 
 Great changes since then have taken place in 
 New Providence Church. The congregation is 
 not as compact and uniform as formerly. A 
 number of our oldest members and their fami- 
 lies emigrated to the newer States, while their 
 old homesteads passed into the hands of new 
 owners, who, many of them, do not sympathize 
 with us in our religious views. Nearly all the 
 young people married and scattered off, here 
 and there, which has made a considerable chasm. 
 Quite a number of them I have married the 
 second, and some even the thirel time, since I 
 have been here. About seven hundred members 
 have been enrolled upon the records of the 
 New Providence Church. There were seven 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 105 
 
 young men from this church that entered the 
 ministry, live of whom are still living. 
 
 Since writing the above imperfect account I 
 have had the means of obtaining more accurate 
 information concerning the glorious ingather- 
 ing into the churches of New Providence and 
 Harrodsburg. To the former church there 
 were added in 1823, 16; in 1824, 12; in 1825, 
 28; in 1826, 46; in 1827, 62; in 1828, 45; in 
 1829, 31. In all, 240 in seven years. I have 
 never known of any revival continued so long 
 without abatement or intermission: "It is the 
 Lord's doings, and marvellous in our eyes." 
 
 The revival in Harrodsburg church made its 
 first appearance on Sabbath morning, May 27, 
 1826, during the public reception of Alfred 
 Robertson, a youthful son of Dr. Robertson, 
 who had united with the church a short time 
 before. From that time till the end of the 
 year were added 42; in 1827, 85; in 1828, 46. 
 Total in three years 173. Oh ! what precious 
 seasons, during that long period, have I seen 
 and enjoyed in both these churches! Could I 
 but witness the like again, like Simeon I would 
 say, "Xow, Lord, let thy servant depart in 
 peace." 
 
 11 
 
106 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 New Providence Church — Its Early Settlers — Mammoth Skel- 
 etons — Wild Game — Privations — A Signal Providence — Pre- 
 parations for Removal from Virginia — Loss of Provisions 
 — Detention — Emigrate 1779 — Cold Winter — Expedition 
 against the Indians — Joseph McCoun Burnt at the Stake- 
 Indians Attack McAffee Station — Heroic Defense — The Am- 
 bush Battle of Blue Licks — Rev. David Rice — Origin of New 
 Providence Church — Accession — Great Revival, 1800 — Rev. 
 Samuel B. Robertson — Mr. Cleland becomes Pastor of New 
 Providence and Cane Run Churches. 
 
 [The following history of the first settlement 
 on Salt River, and of the establishment of New 
 Providence Church, is from the pen of Gen'l 
 Robert B. McAfee, son of Robt. McAfee, sen., 
 one of the five w 7 ho first settled on the banks 
 of Salt River. He served, with distinction, in 
 the war of 1812. He was an intelligent and 
 devoted Christian, and for many years a very 
 influential ruling elder in New Providence 
 Church. To this church, in part, Dr. Cleland 
 devoted forty-five years of his ministerial life. 
 This fact, and the stirring scenes herein record- 
 ed, entitle this chapter to a place in this con- 
 nection, and invest it with peculiar interest.] 
 
 On the 10th day of May, 1773, a com- 
 pany of men, consisting of James, George, 
 and Robert McAfee, James McCoun, junr., 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLBLAND. 107 
 
 and Samuel Adams, having been informed, 
 by the report of some hunters. jand Indians, that 
 there was a rich and delightful tract of land to 
 the west on the waters of the Ohio River, open- 
 ing a wide field to enterprising persons, left 
 their places of residence on Sinking Creek, 
 Bottetourt county, in the then colony of Vir- 
 ginia, for the purpose of exploring the country, 
 and seeking out places for their future resi- 
 dence. They were fully aware of the dangers 
 and difficulties to be encountered ; but they 
 were men inured to hardships, bold and enter- 
 prising. The prospect of future fortunes, the 
 honor of being the first adventurers in the 
 wilds of this western wilderness, and a confi- 
 dent reliance upon the preserving care of Pro- 
 vidence, sustained and animated them during 
 their long and dangerous voyage. They all 
 had families, except Samuel Evans, who had 
 not yet reached the age of manhood. 
 
 This company fell in with Thomas Bui lit and 
 Hancock Taylor, two surveyors, who, with 
 their companies, were about to descend the 
 Ohio River for the purpose of surveying the 
 "Proclamation warrants" of 1763, which were 
 at that time authorized to be surveyed on the 
 Western waters. " The McAfee Company," 
 as they were called, struck across the country 
 to New River (Kenawhee), and descended in a 
 
108 life; of dr. cleland. 
 
 canoe to its mouth. On the 28th of May, 1773, 
 they met the company of Bullit and Taylor, on 
 New River, about twenty miles above its mouth. 
 The two companies remained at the mouth of 
 New River until the first clay of June, where 
 Capt. Thos. Bullit, their chosen leader, left 
 them for the purpose of visiting the Shawnee 
 nation of OhillicOthe, on the Scioto, and the 
 balance of the company descended the Ohio in 
 a boat and four canoes. On the 14th day of 
 June Capt. Bullit met them at the mouth of 
 the Scioto, with the intelligence that a friendly 
 intercourse had been established with that na- 
 tion, who laid claim to all that country upon 
 which this company was about to settle. 
 
 They then descended the Ohio, and made a 
 number of surveys on the bottoms adjoining 
 the river, until they arrived opposite Big-bone 
 Lick, which they visited on July 5th, where a 
 great number of the skeletons of the mammoth 
 were found entire. The rib bones they used 
 for tent poles, and the disjointed back bones for 
 stools. There were several Delaware Indians 
 in company on this day, and James McAfee 
 addressed one of them who appeared to be 
 about 70 years of age,- and asked him if he 
 knew how the bones came to be there, or if he 
 knew what kind of an animal they belonged to ? 
 
 His reply was, "when I first came here, then 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 109 
 
 a boy, these bones were just as you now see 
 
 them." 
 
 The McAfee company then proceeded to the 
 mouth of the Levisa (Kentucky) River; to the 
 mouth of Drennon Creek, and up that creek to 
 the Lick. The number of buffaloes, deer and elk, 
 at the Lick, was astonishing. The roads round 
 about the Lick were as much beaten as those 
 near a populous city. The company took one of 
 these roads and crossed the Kentucky river 
 just below Frankfort, but turned up the river 
 and surveyed the bottom on which Frankfort 
 now stands, the first survey ever made on this 
 river. They crossed' over from thence to Salt 
 River, and on the 27th day of July a survey 
 was made for James McAfee, including the 
 place where jS t c\v Providence church now 
 stands. 
 
 Having completed their survey, July 31st, 
 the company started home, steering nearly 
 a southeastern course across Dix River. It 
 commenced raining, and the company pro- 
 ceeded up- Kentucky River, exposed to great 
 hardship and fatigue for want of provisions, 
 having to depend alone upon what they could 
 kill for their sustenance. For several days 
 they made out to procure meat — the only food 
 they had, and on the 5th day of August they 
 reached the forks of the Kentucky River, at 
 
110 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 which time it was very difficult to find any 
 kind of wild game. The 12th day of August 
 was a gloomy day to that little band of pion- 
 eers. They were crossing the head branches of 
 Kentucky River to the waters of Chuck River, 
 in a region of country which seemed to be the 
 abode of desolation. Nothing but barren rocks 
 presented themselves on any hand. Silence 
 and solitude reigned on every side. Not a liv- 
 ing thing was to be seen. They had not a 
 mouthful to eat for two days. They were liter- 
 ally starving to death. Their feet were blister- 
 ed, their limbs torn with briers and cragged 
 rocks, and all under a broiling sun. Every 
 thing combined to furnish a scene enough to 
 appall the strongest heart. The sun of the third 
 day was about to set behind the mountains, 
 leaving them utterly destitute of food and water. 
 A part of their company, from utter exhaustion, 
 threw themselves upon the ground and said 
 they could go no further. Those who still re- 
 tained more strength urged them to strive to go 
 •further, but all to no purpose. At length, 
 Robt. McAfee, as a last effort of despair, deter- 
 mined to cross over the point of the next ridge, 
 to see if he could find any thing to kill. 
 
 The sun was now gilding the highest points 
 of the adjacent mountains with his setting 
 beams, when the Almighty hand interposed for 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELANL. Ill 
 
 their relief. Kobt. McAfee had not proceeded 
 more than one quarter of a mile across the 
 ridge, and was approaching to a small branch a 
 few rods before him, when he saw a small spike 
 buck about fifty yards before him. Joy, anxi- 
 ety and desperation filled his heart. 
 
 Being an excellent marksman, he fired, and 
 the buck fell. lie was upon him in a moment. 
 The rest of the company soon came up ; so 
 great w T as their joy at the sound of his gun 
 that they forgot their fatigue. The creek af- 
 forded them water, and they soon prepared 
 their savory meal, wh'ich was devoured with the 
 keenest relish ; while their hearts were poured 
 out in thankfulness to that kind Providence 
 that had saved them from the very jaws of 
 death. 
 
 It was on account of this and other signal 
 deliverances showed them afterward, that these 
 Christian pioneers were influenced to erect a 
 house of worship in the wilderness, and conse- 
 crate it to that kind Providence which had pre- 
 served them in their many extremities. 
 
 Shortly after this they reached their homes 
 in safety, and gave an accurate account of what 
 they had seen in the western wilderness, which 
 inflamed the minds of all that heard them with 
 a desire to go to a land represented to them as 
 flowing with milk and honey. 
 
112 LIFE OF DR. CLELANB. 
 
 They did not return in 1774 to take posses- 
 sion of their lands, in consequence of hostility 
 among the Indians. 
 
 In 1775, the company above named, with 
 two others, David Adams and John Higgins, 
 returned early in March, and cleared two acres 
 of ground at McAfee's station, intending to 
 raise corn and prepare to remove their fam- 
 ilies, but were prevented by the hostility of the 
 Indians. 
 
 In the meantime James Harrod and com- 
 pany built a fort at Harrodsburg, and opened a 
 farm near the fort. 
 
 In the fall of the year Robert, William and 
 George McAfee, John McGee, David Adams, 
 John McCoun and others, cleared fifteen acres 
 of land on the farm of James McConn, about 
 one mile northwest of New Providence meet- 
 ing-house, at the mouth of Armstrong's Branch, 
 and in the following spring planted it in corn, 
 and continued in that place until June, having 
 taken with them forty head of cattle, which 
 they left to feed upon the luxuriant cane. They 
 then returned to Virginia for their families. 
 Having packed their provisions, seeds, farming 
 utensils, etc., upon horses, they transported 
 them across the mountains to Ganby River, and 
 put them into canoes; but, in consequence of 
 the 1 own ess of the water after proceeding a 
 
LIFE OF DR. I 1.1.1, ANh. 113 
 
 short distance, the)' were compelled to store 
 away their provisions in a strong log h 
 
 erected Tor the purpose, and return for their 
 horses. In the meantime a war with the 
 
 Cherokee Indians broke out, and a part of 
 the company joined the expedition. Also, 
 the war between the United States and Great 
 Britain having assumed a serious aspect, it 
 was regarded as unsafe to risk their fami- 
 lies abroad in such troublous times. Hence 
 they considered it most prudent to abandon 
 their removal for the present. In the month 
 of September they returned to their cabin, 
 in order to convey their stores back to 
 their homes in Virginia. But, to their ut- 
 ter dismay, they found their house unroofed, 
 and their beds, blankets, barrels, etc., lying 
 scattered in confusion about the house. In 
 making further search, they found that some 
 one had taken a part of the bedding to an 
 adjacent cliff, for the purpose of sleeping 
 upon it. The feelings o£ the company were 
 not of the most pleasant kind, to find their 
 stores of sugar, coffee and spires, missing, 
 which they had been collecting for some time, 
 intending the same to last them for yei 
 come-, as they knew it would be impossible to 
 obtain them in' Kentucky. At first they sus- 
 pected it to be the work of the Indians ; but, 
 
114 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 finding no Indian sign, they abandoned this 
 idea. In making some search, a part of the 
 company went down the river, and in abont 
 a half of a mile came across a little, diminutive, 
 red-head white man, whom they immediately 
 charged as being the author of this mischief. 
 He denied it ; but, finding some of their clothes 
 upon his person, from sudden impulse James 
 McAfee struck at him with his tomahawk and 
 knocked him down, and then drew his butcher 
 knife and would have dispatched him, but was 
 restrained by his brother seizing his arm. The 
 poor fellow was adjudged as having forfeited 
 his. life, and was condemned to be hung; but, 
 as none were willing to execute the sentence, 
 he was permitted to live. 
 
 The years of "77 and '78 were spent in re- 
 pairing their losses, and in resisting the inva- 
 sion of the British, in which some of this com- 
 pany took an active part. 
 
 The year 1779 was an important one in the 
 annals of Kentucky. It is generally believed 
 that this and the following year brought twenty 
 thousand people to the district. Preparations 
 were made this year to make a final removal to 
 Salt River — so called on account of the salt 
 works at Bullit Lick. Accordingly, they left 
 their habitations on Catawba and Sinking 
 Creek, Bottetourt Co., Va., August 17, 1779, 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELANU. llO 
 
 and started with all- their families and property 
 packed on horses, and came through a wilder- 
 path (crossing at Cumberland Gap) to 
 Kentucky; and, on the first day of October, 
 arrived at McAfee's station, near where New 
 Providence church now stands. 
 
 The following winter proved to be one of 
 the utmost severity. It commenced on the 25th 
 day of November, and from that time till the 
 middle of February there was one continual 
 freeze. All the water-courses were frozen over. 
 The Buftaloes, the bears, wolves, beavers, tur- 
 kies, etc., were found in great numbers, frozen 
 to death. Many times they would come up into 
 the yards of the stations with the cattle. The 
 people of the different stations were reduced 
 to the utmost extremity for want of bread. 
 One Johnny cake was often divided into twelve 
 equal parts twice each day, and toward the 
 close of the winter this failed, and the people 
 had to live on wild game entirely for several 
 weeks. Early in the spring, James and Robert 
 McAfee, with their sons, went to the falls of 
 the Ohio, and gave sixty dollars (continental 
 money) a bushel for corn. 
 
 The spring of 1780, opened with nattering 
 prospects. Vegetation put forth early, and 
 grew with wonderful rapidity. The fruit trees 
 planted in '75 had made an astonishing growth, 
 
116 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 and the peacli trees were loaded with fruit. 
 But, daring the summer, the Indians became . 
 very numerous, and committed many depreda- 
 tions. The settlements were broken up, and 
 their families shut themselves up in the fort. 
 An expedition, under Gen. Clark and Col. Lo- 
 gan, went out against the Indians, whose head 
 quarters were at Old Chillicothe, on the Little 
 Miami. The men of the McAfee station joined 
 them, and William McAfee commanded a com- 
 pany from that and the adjacent stations. It 
 marched about the 1st of July. Canoes were 
 built to transport their men and provisions 
 acro'ss the Ohio River. The troops were ren- 
 dezvoued at the mouth of the Licking River. 
 Previous to their reaching this place, one of 
 their men deserted, and gave the Indians notice 
 of the approach of an army. The expedition 
 was almost wholly provided at the expense of 
 the settlers, and when the army arrived at the 
 place of rendezvous, the whole stock of rations 
 was two pounds of flour to each man, and a 
 small quantity of meat. These were all the 
 provisions that could be procured ; they must 
 depend upon wild game to complete their sup- 
 ply. This was enough to appall hearts of less 
 fortitude. They must march fifty or sixty miles 
 and back again; and that, too, through the 
 enemy's country. When they reached Chilli- 
 
LIFE OB DR. CLBLAND. 117 
 
 cothe, they found that the enemy had decamp- 
 ed, and their villages were smoking in rvrins. 
 This put the troops in high spirits; Clarke 
 
 pushed on without delay in a north western di- 
 rection to some Indian towns at Piqua, thirty 
 miles above Dayton. Here the Indians made a 
 stand ; a hot engagement ensued. The town 
 was taken by storm. William McAfee led the 
 van of those divisions under Col. Logan-. Dur- 
 ing the action he was shot through the body, 
 but lived to reach the falls of Ohio, and died 
 at Floyd station shortly after his wile reached 
 that place. This expedition did much damage 
 to the Indians. The whites had peace the re- 
 mainder of the year on the south side of the 
 Kentucky river. 
 
 Early in the spring of 1781, an incident oc- 
 curred which cast a gloom upon all these bright 
 prospects. Joseph, youngest son of James 
 McCoun, sen., went out to look after the cattle, 
 and was surprised and taken prisoner by the 
 Indians, about one mile and a half below where 
 New Providence church now stands. He was 
 the favorite of the family. John McCoun, his 
 brother, was with him at the time, and es- 
 caped. The alarm was given, and a company of 
 men were collected as speedily as possible, and 
 pursued the Indians in the direction of Chilli- 
 cothe, Ohio, but all to no purpose. Distress 
 
118 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 and sorrow pervaded the whole family, and 
 James was given up as lost. It was afterward 
 ascertained that he was taken bj the Shawnee 
 Indians to a little town on the head waters of 
 Mad River, about six miles above Springfield, 
 Ohio, and tied to a stake and burned with the 
 most excruciating tortures. 
 
 On the 9th day of May, the Indians, in num- 
 ber about one hundred and fifty, attacked 
 McAfee station. They encamped the night be- 
 fore in a house built by James McCoun, on the 
 west side of Salt River, afterward owned by 
 Peter Vanarsdale. 
 
 Just before day, they sent out parties to oc- 
 cupy all the paths leading from the fort, which, 
 on the one side, was guarded only by a rail 
 fence, with only twelve men in it. They ex- 
 pected to make an easy prey of the whole. 
 The attack did not take place until an hour by 
 sun in the morning. An express had been per- 
 mitted to pass out in safety to the Harrodsburg 
 landing, on the Kentucky River. He was ad- 
 vised by James McAfee to take to the woods, 
 and then strike the path some distance out. 
 His not being molested induced the men in the 
 station to believe that there was no danger, and 
 a part of them went out to clear some ground 
 for a turnip patch south of the station. The 
 females were engaged in their ordinary busi- 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 119 
 
 ness. Two men started to go to a corn crib 
 above the station. They had proceeded about. 
 three hundred yards, when they were fired 
 upon by an Indian. This was a signal for a 
 general attack. One of the men fell dead. 
 The other, Samuel McAfee, turned to make 
 his escape, and was met by an Indian in the 
 path. Their guns were within a few inches of 
 each other's breasts ; the Indian's gun snapped, 
 McAfee's fired, and the Indian fell and expired. 
 James and Robt. Mcx\fee were in the clearing. 
 Both seized their guns, always in reach, and 
 ran to the place of attack. 
 
 Robert, being the swiftest, out-ran his bro- 
 ther. He met his brother Samuel, on his re- 
 treat, who tried to stop him ; but he ran on 
 until he came to the dead Indian lying in the 
 path. He was intercepted. He took to the 
 wood, with an Indian in close pursuit. Now 
 and then he would turn upon the Indian, who 
 would instantly take shelter behind a tree. 
 McAfee ran toward the river, just above the 
 spring belonging to the station. He threw 
 himself over the fence, and lay among some 
 weeds, waiting till the enemy would put his 
 head out to look what had become of him. 
 He fired, and shot the Indian in the jaws and 
 killed him. He proved to be one of the Shaw- 
 nee chiefs, arrayed in silver rings and brooches 
 
120 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 in abundance. This checked the pursuit in 
 that direction. James McAfee was arrested, 
 in the meantime, by six or seven Indians, who 
 were concealed by some brush heaps. He took 
 to a tree, but was soon driven from that posi- 
 tion by another party, who fired at him. 
 
 As soon as E.obt. McAfee reached the sta- 
 tion, a general advance by the Indians was 
 made on every side. The men of the fort kept 
 up a well directed fire. Several Indians were 
 killed in their attempt to rush upon them. 
 The women and children were engaged in run- 
 ning bullets, and preparing the necessary means 
 of defense. After two hours the enemy made 
 a general retreat, after destroying nearly all 
 the cattle and the hogs belonging to the sta- 
 tion. They commenced their retreat about ten 
 minutes before Col. McGary arrived, with 
 about forty men, from Harrodsburg, William 
 McAfee's and McGary's station, on Shawnee 
 River. To the latter place the news was carried 
 from William McAfee's station, when the firing 
 was heard, it being a still, clear morning. Col. 
 McGary being joined by the men of the sta- 
 tion, immediately went in pursuit of the Indi- 
 ans, and found them at James McCouu's cabins, 
 where they bad encamped the night before, and 
 routed them again, and pursued them down on 
 the west side of Salt River, killing several 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. L21 
 
 Indians and having some of his own men wound- 
 ed. Thus ended a second conflict which threat- 
 ened the destruction of the settlement on 
 
 River. Thirteen men only repulsed one hun- 
 dred and fifty Indians, which was regarded by 
 the reflecting part of the garrison as a Pro- 
 vidential deliverance. 
 
 Daring the year 1782, very little occurred to 
 disturb the repose of the settlements. They 
 dwelt in their forts, and cultivated their crops 
 by stealth. 
 
 In the month of July another event occurred 
 illustrating the singular care of Providence over 
 them. The inhabitants of James McAfee's 
 station often joined in their work, and aided 
 each other in cultivating their respective farms. 
 One day a large party, male and female, went 
 down to the farm of James McCoun, sen., to 
 pull flax. A party of eight or nine Indians 
 saw them, but being afraid to attack them, 
 made a blind of bushes, behind which they con- 
 cealed themselves, intending to way-lay the 
 company on their return to the station, and 
 massacre the whole. Having finished their 
 work at an early hour, they were returning, 
 when one of their company proposed to go up 
 the creek to get some plums, which grew in 
 abundance on its banks, and thus retui 
 home in safety. 
 12 
 
122 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 In August of this year, the battle of the 
 Blue Licks was fought, between the Kentucki- 
 aus and the Shawnees, which put the stations 
 on the south side of Kentucky River into 
 mourning. The influence of this defeat in a 
 moral and religious point of view was consider- 
 able. It brought the inhabitants to a serious 
 sense of their duty, and their great obligation 
 to their Creator. 
 
 In the spring of 1783, the Rev. David Rice, 
 of patriarchal memory, removed to Kentucky, 
 and remained during the winter at Mrs. 
 McBride's, on Deck's River, and afterward 
 bought land and settled on Harrod's Run, near 
 Danville. Rev. Adam Rankin also visited 
 this country in October. They occasionally 
 preached at private houses, when invited, near 
 Danville and Harrodsburg. At that time very 
 few thought of, or cared for religious matters. 
 
 But, in the following year the minds of the 
 settlers began to be seriously inclined to reli- 
 gious matters, and Mr. Rice was invited to 
 preach among them. Marriages, hitherto solem- 
 nized by magistrates, were now solemnized by 
 him. The first sermon ever preached here was 
 by Mr. Rice, on the banks of Salt River, near 
 McCoun's spring. It was the funeral of his 
 wife. It was a mournful occasion, and the at- 
 tention of the people was much arrested. Mr. 
 
LI1-X OF Dlt. CLBLAND. L2S 
 
 Rice returned to the fort, and as his custom 
 was, on the next day catechized such as had 
 turned their attention to religious subjects ; 
 and, on the next day (June 6th), preached in a 
 large double log station which he occasionally 
 visited to preach to the people, [n the fall a 
 considerable accession of strength was made to 
 the neighborhood by the arrival of Capt. John 
 and William Armstrong, and George Buchan- 
 an ; each having large families. They all set- 
 tled within the bounds of the present New Pro- 
 vidence congregation, and were inclined to pro- 
 mote the cause of religion. 
 
 Early in the spring of '85, the neighborhood 
 concluded to erect a house, for the double pur- 
 pose of school-house and a meeting-house. 
 Accordingly, the following heads of families, 
 James, George, Robert and Samuel McAfee, 
 the two James McCoun, John and William 
 Armstrong, James and George Buchanan, Jo- 
 seph Lyon and John McGee, met near the 
 ground now occupied by New Provider.ee 
 church, and selected a place to build said 
 house. Two places were proposed, and debated 
 with considerable warmth; the site of the 
 present building, and the one near James 
 McCoun's. 'Twas decided by seven to five in 
 favor of the former place. After the corn was 
 planted, a log cabin, twenty feet by eighteen, 
 
124 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 on the side of the hill, about fifty yards south 
 of the west end of the present building, in 
 which Mr. Rice preached once a month for 
 several years. A school was also occasionally 
 taught. Such was still the unsettled state of 
 affairs that the male inhabitants for three years 
 from this time invariably carried their guns 
 with them when they went up to their house 
 of worship. The year before this another small 
 house of worship had been erected on Cane 
 Run (afterward removed to Harrodsburg). Sev- 
 eral persons named above were professors of 
 religion; and during the year, the whole of 
 them had determined to unite with the Pres- 
 byterian Church. Mr. Rice was very assiduous 
 in his religious duties. He very often read a 
 whole chapter for his text, in the way of a lec- 
 ture, which often proved a very advantageous 
 method of delivering instruction. 
 
 Public attention, during the following year, 
 was somewhat diverted, by the last campaign of 
 General Clark, in which many of the Salt 
 River volunteers enlisted. In 1785, Mr. Rice 
 organized a church on Salt River, which was 
 named by George Buchanan, New Providence, 
 in commemoration of the many Providential 
 interferences in their behalf. 
 
 George Buchanan, James McColm, sen., and 
 William Armstrong, were chosen eiders. The 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 1 1*.') 
 
 church and congregation gradually increased 
 until the year '89. 
 
 On the 17th day of October, 1786, Transyl- 
 vania Presbytery was organized at Danville, 
 being a branch of Abington Presbytery, Va., 
 consisting of the following persons, viz. : Rev. 
 David Rice, Adam Rankin, John McClure, 
 James Crawford, and Thomas B. Craighead. 
 
 The controversy in relation to church 
 psalmody agitated the churches in Kentucky 
 for several years. Rev. Adam Rankin took the 
 the lead in this matter by denying the right of 
 communion to all that used Dr. Watt's version 
 of the Psalms. Presbytery issued a process 
 against him, including various charges. lie 
 took occasion, from the excited state of public 
 feeling, and renounced the jurisdiction of the 
 Presbytery, and drew off quite a number of fol- 
 lowers with him. The church of Xew Provi- 
 dence was divided in nearly two equal parts. 
 Samuel McCoun, sen., and all hia family, sons 
 and sons-in-law, including John McGee and 
 Robt. McAfee, went with the seceders. Out of 
 this secession was organized what was called 
 the " Seceder Church," on the farm of James 
 McCoun, sen., to which Mr. Rankin preached 
 for several years. It has long since gone to 
 decay. 
 
 In the vear '90 the consrreofation of New 
 
126 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 Providence built a large double-hewed log 
 house, fifty feet by thirty, joined at the sides 
 by posts. The church was occasionally sup- 
 plied by order of Presbytery until the spring 
 of the year 1793, when Kev. John Sutton, a 
 very worthy Baptist preacher, having settled in 
 Harrodsburg, was invited to preach to them. 
 He was a man of great suavity of manners, of 
 a classical education, and of a conservative 
 spirit, which rendered him acceptable to all par- 
 ties, especially as he made use of the old 
 Psalms, which was very agreeable to the " Se- 
 ceders." 
 
 Mr. Sutton having left in 1795, the Rev. Wil- 
 liam Mahou was invited to take charge of the 
 !N"ew Providence and Benson churches, which 
 he did with partial success until the year 1798. 
 
 In the year 1800 commenced the great revi- 
 val, which lasted several years, including all de- 
 nominations. The great meeting at Cane Pidge 
 took place on the 7th and 12th days of August 
 inclusive, at which several thousands attended, 
 among them quite a number from Xew Provi- 
 dence congregation. 
 
 Pev. Samuel B. Pobertson, of Harrison coun- 
 ty, having several times preached for this con- 
 gregation, was called to take charge of it, and 
 was ordained as pastor of Xew Providence and 
 Cane Pun congregations, Oct. 23, 1801. 
 
LIFE OF DR. OLBLAND. 
 
 Considerable accessions were made to these ' 
 churches during the year. Mr. Robertson lived 
 on a plantation purchased for him near Har- 
 
 rodsburg. Harmony prevailed in the church, 
 and the revival continued until 1805. In the 
 meantime, on account of the increased size of 
 the congregation, Kew Providence church was 
 enlarged, by cutting out oue side of the house, 
 and extending it in that direction. The two 
 congregations, the Presbyterians and Sececlers, 
 occupied the house on alternate Sabbaths until 
 the year 1803. Rev. Joshua L. Wilson, and 
 Rev. Mr. Risk, of Rankin's church, happened 
 to meet on the same day. Both congregations 
 desired to hear their own preacher. 
 
 It was proposed by the elders of the Presby- 
 terian church that Mr. Risk miffht take the fore- 
 noon, and Mr. Wilson the afternoon. The ses- 
 sion of the other church agreed to consider the 
 matter. After Mr. Risk had finished his ser- 
 mon, he gave notice that he would preach again 
 in about a halt' an hour. The others shortly 
 after retired, and Mr. Wilson preached to them 
 in the woods. This led to a final separation, 
 and the " Rankinites " went off and built a separ- 
 ate house to themselves, as has been before re- 
 lated, Aug. 24, 1804. 
 
 Mr. Robertson was very much admired as a 
 preacher, was warm and ardent in his devo- 
 
128 LIFE OP DR. CLELAND. 
 
 tional exercises, and was regarded as au ex- 
 cellent Christian. But many of his congrega- 
 tion grew negligent about paying him his sal- 
 ary, in consequence of which he left them, and 
 went to Columbia, Adair county. This took 
 place about the year 1812. 
 
 The congregation, being again declared va- 
 cant, now began seriously to feel the want of a 
 preached Gospel. They soon had their eyes 
 upon Rev. Thomas Cleland, pastor of Spring- 
 field and Hardin's Creek congregation. As he 
 had married in the congregation to the daugh- 
 ter of Capt. John Armstrong, it was believed 
 that he might be induced to remove among 
 them, and accept a call. According^, the 
 eldership of the two congregations of Xew 
 Providence and Cane Run invited him to 
 take charge of these congregations as their 
 pastor, which he did. He commenced his min- 
 isterial services on the 1st Sabbath of April, 
 1813, which continued with uninterrupted har- 
 mony for nearly one half of a century. 
 
LIFE OP DR. CLELAND. l'2 ( J 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Literary Labors — Doctor of Divinity — Visit to Frankfort in 
 behalf of Center College — Anecdote — His services as a Mem- 
 ber of an Ecclesiastical Court — His watchfulness for provi- 
 dences — Last entry in his Journal. 
 
 [His literary labors commenced soon after his 
 removal to New Providence.] 
 
 About the year 1815, without any seeking of 
 my own, commenced my literary controversy 
 with BartOD W. Stone. The maimer in which 
 I was drawn into it, is explained in my intro- 
 ductory chapter to " Unitarianism Unmasked," 
 which was the third and last book I published 
 against his Arian and Socinian heresies. This 
 controversy proved of great service to myself. 
 I could thank God that I was not permitted to 
 wander off into the mazes of error, like my 
 opponent. " Who maketh me to differ from 
 another," I often said to myself. By nature 
 and acquirements I was no better, perhaps not 
 as good as this man. But in the next place I 
 learned more divinity in this investigation, than 
 in all my ecclesiastical life before. My views 
 of divine truth were greatly enlarged, more con- 
 firmed and established, and I may add, more 
 precious to my heart, and was better enabled to 
 13 
 
130 LIFE OF. DR. CLELAND. 
 
 instruct others, to teach them the good and the 
 right way, and to establish them in the truth. 
 All three of my productions were favorably 
 received, and widely scattered all over Ken- 
 tucky; and it was thought by my friends, that 
 they were instrumental in putting a stop to the 
 progress of that heresy- — of saving many people 
 from falling into it — strengthening and con- 
 firming others who were shaken by it; of re- 
 claiming some, even among Mr. Stone's clerical 
 brethren, who had embraced it. Upon the 
 whole, with all its imperfections, I have reason 
 to bless God for his assistance and approbation 
 in this controversy. 
 
 Though I never calculated on becoming a 
 writer, yet almost unexpectedly and undesign- 
 edly I was called to take up my pen on various 
 occasions. And it appears strange to myself, 
 and almost unaccountable, on a review of my 
 busy and hurried life, how I was able to accom- 
 plish as much of this work as I did. I had lit- 
 tle time to write. E~or am I a ready writer. I 
 wrote slowly and carefully. All my produc- 
 tions went to the press without transcribing; I 
 had no time for such employment. My general 
 practice was to read late at night, after all the 
 family had retired to rest, make my notes and 
 references, and then rise about two hours before 
 day and write till breakfast; after which I was 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 131 
 
 off preaching, working, etc., until night came 
 
 on again. I thought I found my mind more 
 active and clear in the morning, before day, and 
 after moderate manual labor. It was my plan 
 to redeem the time, every hour I could spare ; 
 and I have no doubt now, but an active life, 
 in one form or another, was the strength and 
 support of my physical constitution. 
 
 I here insert a list of my principal publica- 
 tions, which may be found in various bound 
 volumes, and the years in which they were 
 published. 
 
 1. A Familiar Dialogue between Calvinus and Arminius.. 1805 
 
 2. The Heavenly Society. Rev. vii : 9. Funeral of Mrs. 
 
 Jane Horton, 1808 
 
 3. The Socini-Arian Detected. Series of letters to Bar- 
 
 ton W. Stone, 1815 
 
 4. Letters to B. W. Stone on Trinity, Divinity, and 
 
 Atonement of Christ, 1822 
 
 5. Reply to Rt. Rev. Bishop David, 1822 
 
 0. Brief History, etc., of Cumberland Presbyterians; by 
 
 order of Synod, 1822 
 
 7. The Destructive Influence of Sinners. Ecc. ix: 18, 1823 
 
 8. Evangelical Hymns. (Selected.) 1825 
 
 '.'. Preservation and Perseverance of the Saints. Isa. 
 
 xxvii: 3, 1827 
 
 10. A Wheel within a Wheel, (Sermon.) Fzek. i: 16,... 1820 
 
 11. Various Articles for Calviuistic Magazine, 1829 
 
 12. Familiar Dialogue between Calvinus and Arminius, 
 
 on the doctrines of Election and Predestination,... 1830 
 
 13. Various articles for Presbyterian Advocate, 1830 
 
 14. Difficulties of Arminianism, 1831 
 
 16. Strictures on Crimphfllism, 1888 
 
132 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 16. Outward Rites and Inward Graces, not. Identical and 
 
 Inseparable. Rom. ii: 28-9, 1833 
 
 17. Funeral Sermon of Mrs. Judge Underwood, 1835 
 
 18. Funeral Sermon of Mrs. Hickman, 1836 
 
 19. The Conservation and Preservation of the Saints. 
 
 Ps. xxxvii: 28, 1836 
 
 20. Trial and Acquittal of John the Baptist, 1853 
 
 In addition to these an unpublished manu- 
 script, 
 
 " Candid Reasons for not being an Anti-Pedo Baptist." 
 
 [He gives a humorous account of his Doc- 
 torate.] 
 
 I presume it was owing to ray literary pro- 
 ductions, that the attention of Transylvania 
 University was attracted, when, on the 10th of 
 July, 1822, I received from that institution the 
 honorary degree of " D. D." This was as unex- 
 pected as it was undeserved or unmerited. I 
 immediately sat down and wrote, as politely as 
 possible, my declination of this high-sounding 
 title, and was about to send it off next day ; but 
 the Legislature was then sitting at Frankfort, 
 and having before them a charter for a Presby- 
 terian (Center) College, at Danville, and there 
 being a most violent opposition from sectarians 
 in that body, as also from Lexington, where 
 the interests of the University were at stake, 
 and against which Institution the Presbyteri- 
 ans were now leveling their batteries, on account 
 of its bad management — it was by the advice of 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 133 
 
 a particular friend at Frankfort, who, being 
 apprized of my intention, deemed it expedient 
 and advisable, that I should retain this hono- 
 rary title, lest it might be construed unfavorably 
 
 to the cause of the charter of Center College. 
 It was owing to this advice that I did not send 
 off my resignation, and many times wish that 
 I had paid no attention to it, and so got rid of 
 one of the most unwelcome honors, or burdens, 
 that was ever put upon me in all my public 
 career. It was owing, as I afterward learned, 
 to the officious kindness of Dr. Blythe and jST. 
 H. Hall, who recommended me to the Board of 
 Trustees. The former was the only D. D. in 
 Kentucky, and I suppose wanted company, and 
 the latter probably looked forward when he 
 might obtain it himself. 
 
 [The visit to Frankfort, of which he speaks, 
 is connected with an anecdote illustrative of his 
 ready humor. "When application was made to 
 the Legislature for the charter of Center Col- 
 lege, it met with violent opposition from the 
 adherents of Transylvania University, and some 
 other rival institutions. The late Samuel K. 
 Nelson went to Frankfort to use his personal 
 influence in behalf of the application for a char- 
 ter. The prospects were so doubtful that Mr., 
 or rather now the newly made Dr. Cleland, was 
 sent for to employ his personal influence among 
 
134 LIFE OP DR. CLELAND. 
 
 the members of the Legislature. On his way 
 to Frankfort he met Mr. Nelson, both travel- 
 ing on horseback. Mr. Nelson told him how 
 the matter stood, and of the bugbear of secta- 
 rianism which was used to defeat the measure. 
 Dr. Cleland related an anecdote which was so 
 appropriate and amusing, that Mr. Nelson was 
 convulsed with laughter, and said to Dr. Cle- 
 land, " Go to Frankfort, and tell that story, and 
 you will get the charter." The use he. made of 
 it appears in the following paragraph, taken 
 from Davidson's History of the Presbyterian 
 Church in Kentucky : 
 
 [" The prominent opponent was a Baptist 
 whose family connection was deeply and per- 
 manently interested in the prosperity of the 
 University. He made his appearance in the 
 Legislature with his arms filled with books, 
 and a servant behind him with a wheelbarrow 
 also loaded with them. He spoke several 
 hours, and made a violent philippic, to show 
 that the Presbyterians on the other side of the 
 Atlantic, had always burned with the lust of 
 domination, and the desire of uniting Church 
 and State. "When he had ended, a member 
 (Col. James Davidson, now State Treasurer), a 
 man of much dry humor, and a deep sonorous 
 voice, gravely told a simple anecdote, by way 
 of illustrating the terrors which had been so 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND, 
 
 awfully presented. Au Irish liedemptioner 
 lost himself in the woods one evening; he had 
 heard a great deal of the Indians, and the novel 
 sights and sounds around him inspired him 
 with such alarm that he climbed up into a tree 
 for safety, and there spent the sleepless night. 
 On being found next day, he told through what 
 perils he had passed. The fireflies he mistook 
 for the torches of the savages in quest of him ; 
 while his agitated fancy interpreted the doleful 
 screams of the whippoorwills into menaces of 
 destruction, crying ' whip-him-well ! whip-him- 
 well ! cut-and-slash ! cut-and-slash ! and the fire 
 new all the time,' said he, ' like the de'il.' In 
 short, ' he did not know what would become of 
 him, had it not been for the swate, heavenly 
 bauds' — meaning the bullfrogs — 'who kept call- 
 ing out Motheration ! Motheration !' 'Xow,' 
 said Col. Davidson, ' when I heard the honora- 
 ble member conjuring up all those dreadful 
 hobgoblins, they appeared to me of the same 
 imaginary character of the poor Irishman's ter- 
 rors, and I felt an irresistible impulse to rise 
 up in my place and call out " Motheration ! 
 Motheration ! " ' The ludicrous anecdote, nar- 
 rated in the dryest manner, and with his gravest 
 intonations, convulsed the house with laughter. 
 In the meantime Mr. Xelson had returned, and 
 was reclining on a bench in the Legislative 
 
136 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 hall ; he was so overcome by convulsive laugh- 
 ter, that he fell from his seat upon the floor, 
 and was struck with a pain in his side, which 
 he carried with him to the grave. The serious 
 and inflammatory speech on the other side was 
 effectually neutralized, and the friends of the 
 bill adroitly seizing the propitious opportunity, 
 hurried it through its final passage, before the 
 effect could be counteracted. The circumstance, 
 trivial as it may seem, is here inserted, not only 
 as a historical verity, but for the purpose 
 also of showing upon what slender threads 
 sometimes hang the destinies of the greatest 
 events." 
 
 [Of the fidelity with which he discharged his 
 duty as an office-bearer in the Church, some 
 idea may be formed from what follows.] 
 
 Amid the multiplied calls and demands upon 
 my time, both ministerial and domestic, in the 
 kind providence of God I have never been pre- 
 vented from attending every stated meeting of 
 Presbytery and Synod, but once, by indisposi- 
 tion, and once from absence on a journey to 
 Indiana and Illinois, in the fall of 1831. As a 
 commissioner to the General Assembly I was a 
 member of that body, at Philadelphia, in the 
 years 1809, 1820, 1824, 1829, at Pittsburg in 
 1835, at Philadelphia in 1837. In those Assem- 
 blies I never made a figure ; was rather a silent 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 137 
 
 member, unless attending to the special bu.si- 
 
 od which I was particularly appointed. 
 
 Having uo particular tact or inclination for the 
 
 lloor, I therefore preferred a less conspicuous 
 station. In the year 1820 I was zealously and 
 industriously employed with the whole body in 
 reviewing and remodeling "The Form of Gov- 
 ernment, and Discipline of the Presbyterian 
 Church in the U. S. A." This important work 
 we were engaged in four days, and being com- 
 pleted sent down to the Presbyteries for their 
 approval, and was adopted by a large majority, 
 and ratified by the General Assembly the next 
 year, 1831. 
 
 [At the disruption of the Presbyterian Church 
 he adhered to the New School General Assem- 
 bly, and was a member of that body in 18*0- 
 , 52- , 54, making ten Assemblies in which he sat 
 as commissioner. 
 
 [His share in the settlement of the difficulties 
 which occurred in the Cumberland Presbytery 
 is thus set forth.] 
 
 In the year 1805 I was a member of the 
 Commission of Synod, appointed to meet down 
 in the Green river country, to arrest the pro- 
 gress of the irregularities produced by the Cum- 
 berland Presbytery, a lull account of which 
 has been spread before the public, hi the win- 
 ter of 1807, as one of the committee to meet at 
 
138 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 Russellville, to investigate a charge of common 
 fame, against Rev. James McGready, I rode 
 the day previous to our meeting, thirty-five 
 miles in the barrens, facing the wind, on what 
 is called to this day, " the cold Friday" in the 
 month of February. JSTever shall I forget this 
 day. Toward night I felt, as I suppose, almost 
 the chill of death approaching me. But it was 
 in the service of the Church — one of the trials 
 of this early day — and cheerfully borne for the 
 Master's sake. 
 
 During the whole time of my ministry in 
 "Washington county, I attended every meeting 
 of Presbytery and Synod, no matter what diffi- 
 culties or inconveniences seemed to appear in 
 the way. By a kind providence all failure, or 
 disappointment was out of the question. 
 
 In the spring of 1809, I went the first time 
 as commissioner to the General Assembly at 
 Philadelphia. There being no stages or steam- 
 boats, the whole journey was performed on 
 horseback ; and a tedious one it was, indeed — 
 between six hundred and seven hundred miles. 
 The principal call for this was the unfinished 
 business relating to the Cumberland Presbyte- 
 rians. The other commissioners for the Synod 
 of Kentucky, were Rev. Messrs. Lyle and 
 Stewart. The business came up — a full state- 
 ment and representation was made— the whole 
 
LIFE OP DR. GLELAND. LB9 
 
 affair investigated, and a final decision rendered 
 in favor of the Synod. The Oumberlands, as 
 
 generally called, the next year made a separate 
 organization, and have so continued until the 
 present day. A brief history was drawn up 
 by myself, in a small pamphlet of some thirty 
 pages octavo, as the committee of Synod, pur- 
 suant to their appointment, in 1821. The draft 
 was unanimously adopted by Synod in 1822, 
 and published for distribution among the Fres-: 
 byteries, early in the following year. 
 
 [Very many incidents in his private life, 
 related in the manuscript are omitted in this 
 publication. One of his eminent virtues ought, 
 however, not to be omitted — his remarkable 
 watchfulness for the indications of God's provi- 
 dential hand. Whole pages are occupied by 
 occurrences in the course of his life — such as 
 escape from accidental death by the falling of 
 timber, the attacks of wild beasts, etc., in which 
 he delighted to find the traces of a divine inter- 
 position in his behalf. Two of these incidents 
 may be repeated here.] 
 
 A serious accident happened to me on my 
 way to the General Assembly, in 1824. This 
 journey, very tedious and irksome, was still 
 performed on horseback, for the want of other 
 conveyance more eligible. My companions 
 were Dr. Wm. Pawling, lay delegate with me 
 
140 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 to the Assembly, and a young man, by the 
 name of Worthington, on his way to West 
 Point. It was a gentle rainy day, the 27th of 
 April, and within eleven miles of Chillicothe, 
 Ohio. We were passing a rough bridge, with- 
 out railing, which lay over Paint creek, extend- 
 ing to a small bluff beyond. We entered simul- 
 taneously with a wagon on the opposite side, 
 which we supposed would stop for us. The Dr. 
 was before, and passed by the approaching 
 wagon in safety. I was next, and arriving 
 about half way between the bluff and the 
 water's edge, my horse took fright, and back- 
 ing obliquely, his hinder parts slipped off the 
 bridge, throwing me backward, right upon my 
 back, and he came after me, and in a most 
 remarkable manner was right over me, with his 
 hind feet a little obliquely on one side of me, 
 and his fore feet one on each side of me, bear- 
 ing himself off me as well as he could, while 
 both my hands were pushing upward against 
 his breast. The animal was somehow in a 
 twist, and exerting himself with all his might 
 to spring off of me, which, after two or three 
 efforts he did without inflicting the slightest 
 injury. The prints of his feet appeared in the 
 sand all around me, yet not a hoof touched me. 
 The Dr. had sprung from his horse, and ran 
 back with great agitation. He thought the 
 
LIFE OF L>R. CLELAND. 141 
 
 horse had fallen upon me; that I had sprung 
 up for the moment, and expected me instantly 
 
 to fall and expire. I was upon my feet, crying 
 "whoa, whoa" to the horses, which had got 
 together and were affrighted. He looked me 
 right in the lace, with grief and agitation, and 
 asked if I could speak. I told him " Yes." 
 "Let me see you breathe," said he; which hav- 
 ing done to his great joy and satisfaction, he 
 replied, "You are safe." Had I fallen one-half 
 minute earlier, myself and horse must have 
 been killed, or dreadfully crushed and mangled, 
 as there lay two trees obliquely across each 
 other, like a pair of shears half opened. Put 
 the place allotted for us hy the hand of Provi- 
 dence was a smooth, soft, sandy spot, without 
 a stick or a pebhle. The distance from the top 
 of the bridge was eight or ten feet. AYe reached 
 Chillicothe that night, not having been detained 
 by the accident more than half an hour. The 
 next morning I found that my right knee had 
 been a little .-trained by the fall. The record 
 in my journal says: " This day (April 27) I have 
 been exposed to the greatest hazard, and most 
 imminent danger of my life, by the fall of my- 
 self and horse from a bridge, etc. I desire ever 
 to remember this event as the kindest act of 
 Providence in my favor.. I pray that I may 
 religiously recollect it, while I live." 
 
142 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 The other fact indicative of the providential 
 kindness of God to him, was the very unex- 
 pected, and to him considerable legacy left him 
 by one known as an enemy to religion in gen- 
 eral, and Presbyterianism in particular. Con- 
 sidering the unexpected source from whence it 
 came, he says : " Had this assistance been 
 handed down from above, by some visible hand, 
 I could not have been more assured that it was 
 directly the gift of God. I had rendered gra- 
 tuitous aid to his young servants under my care, 
 who were unable to help themselves, and here 
 was the < giving back ' of the Lord, good meas- 
 ure, pressed down, shaken together, and run- 
 ning over." 
 
 [His last entry in his journal was made Jan- 
 uary 31, 1855, and is in these words :] 
 
 One circumstance more deserves special no- 
 tice. I have been compelled to give up public 
 duties, and all pastoral relationship to the 
 Church. In connection with feeble strength, a 
 nervous affection at the bottom of my stomach, 
 after a short time speaking, prevents me from 
 proceeding, weakening my articulation, and 
 compelling me to cease altogether. Were it 
 not for this, I could hold forth at least an hour, 
 without much difficulty. But it is my masters 
 will that I should retire from the field and take 
 my rest, after public service for more than half 
 
LIFE OP DR. CLELAND* 143 
 
 a century. My successor, for the present, is 
 Rev. Wm. T. McElroy, from Union Theolo- 
 gical Seminary, N. Y., but a native of this 
 State, and recently ordained by this Presbyter}- . 
 He is a promising young man, and I hope will 
 be made a blessing to these people. "With re- 
 gard to myself, my prayer is — 
 
 " Oh ! let me, gracious Lord, extend 
 My view to life's approaching end. 
 What are my days ? A span their line ; 
 And what my age, compared with thine? 
 
 " God of my fathers, here, as they, 
 I walk, the pilgrim of a day; 
 A transient guest, thy works admire, 
 And instant to my home retire. 
 
 " Oh, spare me, Lord, in mercy spare, 
 And nature's failing strength repair, 
 Ere life's short circuit wandered o'er 
 I perish, and am seen no more." 
 
144 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Close of his Ministry — Last Administration of the Lord's 
 Supper — Illness — Conversations — His death a? described by 
 his Son, Rev. P. S. Cleland — His Funeral — His Character as 
 a Man and a Preacher. 
 
 His death occurred three years to a day after 
 he penned these words. During that time the 
 infirmities of advancing age gathered rapidly 
 upon him. But he was always cheerful, and at 
 times animated in conversation. His vigor of 
 mind, his genial humor, his reverence for the 
 Scriptures, his piety toward God, and his char- 
 ity toward man. seem never to have abated. 
 But for the decay of his physical powers, he 
 might have continued the work of the minis- 
 try until the day of his death. The last time 
 he attempted any public service was a sacra- 
 mental meeting held in the Xew Providence 
 church, in the October preceeding his death. 
 One who was present on that occasion, thus de- 
 scribes his administration of the Lord's Supper. 
 " So feeble was he in body, that one of his 
 sons was obliged to lift him to his feet ; but so 
 bright and clear was his intellectual and spirit- 
 ual vision, that his remarks were particularly 
 appropriate and solemn, and so touching as to 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 145 
 
 melt the whole house into tears." " My little 
 children, it is the last time," said he ; his trem- 
 bling limbs, his sunken cheek, his pallid coun- 
 tenance, his feeble voice and shrunken form, 
 all said "it is the last time." "Having loved 
 his own, he loved them to the end." It was 
 truly an affecting sight to see him take a final 
 leave of the people of his charge. He had gone 
 in and out before them for nearly fifty years. 
 It is difficult to determine whether he loved 
 them more, or was more beloved by them. 
 His love to them was that of a father; theirs 
 to him was that of children — spiritual children. 
 He had helped them to bury their fathers and 
 mothers ; he had united them together in 
 the holy bands of wedlock. He had mingled 
 his sympathies and tears with theirs in afflic- 
 tion ; had counseled them in their difficulties. 
 They looked up to him for advice and counsel. 
 They revered him alike for his wisdom, 
 his prudence, and his piety. For many 
 long years they had waited upon his ministry 
 with great profit and delight. In his public 
 ministrations he was " unto them as a very 
 lovely song, of one that hath a pleasant voice, 
 and can play well on an instrument." Their 
 hearts had often glowed with love, and melted 
 into tenderness under the sweet and touching 
 tones of that pathetic voice. He reminded 
 14 
 
146 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 them that he must soon leave them. That 
 hoary head must soon be low in the grave ; that 
 heaving breast be pressed into the same narrow 
 confinements by the clods of the valley ; that 
 tremulous voice would soon be hushed ; those 
 eyes, which had long darted the sentiments of 
 kindness and affection, would be glazed; and 
 those once active limbs would soon become 
 rigid in death. As he gave to his dearly be- 
 loved spiritual children, for the last time, the 
 symbols of the broken body and shed blood of 
 a crucified Saviour, he looked through the open 
 window, and pointed to the spot reserved for 
 his remains, and then to heaven — the home of 
 his spirit, and commended them to the grace of 
 God, and sat down overpowered by the strength 
 of his emotions. "And they all wept sore, sor- 
 rowing most of all for the words which he 
 spake, that they should see his face no more." 
 He never returned to the house of God 
 again, but lingered in his chamber until the 
 evening of the Lord's day, Jan. 31, 18.58, when 
 he gently fell asleep. His thoughts, toward 
 the close of life, turned exclusively on heaven- 
 ly things. Two of his friends from a distance, 
 one of them a minister of the Gospel, visited 
 him on Thursday before his death. When they 
 entered the room, his children told them that 
 the patient had fallen into a lethargic state 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. L47 
 
 recently, and that, probably, ho would have but 
 little to say. 
 
 But, when he recognized his visitors, he 
 instantly entered into a conversation with 
 them, and spent two or three hours in describ- 
 ing to them his faith in Christ, and his hopes 
 for the world to come. His thoughts seemed 
 to connect themselves with particular passages 
 of Scripture, many of which he repeated and 
 expounded in their deepest spiritual significa- 
 tion. He said, " It is not difficult for us to satisfy 
 our friends and the church with our ministry ; 
 but my labors do not satisf}^ me. I shall be satis- 
 lied only when I awake in the likeness of 
 Christ. I have no raptures. I am but a 
 poor sinner; but I do trust in Christ, and 
 through him I see my way as clearly to his 
 kingdom on high, as I do the road from here 
 to Ilarrodsburg, over which I've traveled 
 more than a thousand times." 
 
 [His son, the Rev. P. S. Cleland, thus de- 
 scribes his last hours.] 
 
 "The last words of departed friends are pre- 
 served among our most cherished recollections. 
 We are eager to catch the faintest whispers 
 that issue from their dying lips, as if it were a 
 message from the invisible world. Especially 
 do we desire to know what are their hopes and 
 feelings in view of the eternal state, upon 
 
148 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 which they are about to enter. However de- 
 cided may have been their Christian character, 
 and their fidelity in the service of Christ during 
 their lives, we still desire their dying testimony 
 to the power and grace of God, and confirma- 
 tion of their hopes of blessedness beyond the 
 grave. It is to be feared that the impression is 
 too common that religion is designed, chiefly, to 
 cheer us in death, and make us happy in eternity. 
 And such, indeed, is its influence in many in- 
 stances. It is frequently the case that the 
 servants of God are enabled to give the 
 most delightful and triumphant testimony 
 to the power of Christian faith and hope to 
 sustain them as they go through the valley of 
 the shadow of death. Their sun goes down in 
 unclouded brightness. The death-bed scenes 
 of such men as Payson, Evarts, and Finley, not 
 only minister rich consolation to surviving 
 friends, but leave an invaluable spiritual legacy 
 to the Church and the world. 
 
 But religion is designed to affect our charac- 
 ter and conduct ; and the evidences of a genu- 
 ine piety are to be sought, not so much in 
 death as in life. And many of God's children 
 pass away to their home in heaven without 
 having those animating views of heaven, or that 
 unwavering faith and cheerful hope with which 
 other saints are favored in the hour of their 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 149 
 
 departure. Their sun, though it may have 
 shone long and brilliantly, sinks to his rest be- 
 hind the western cloud. A\ r e know, however, 
 that he still shines in all his glory ; and, though 
 his beams fall not upon us, they illumine 
 other eyes, and impart a splendor even to the 
 clouds that obscure his face. "We need not 
 their dying words to assure us that they are 
 gone to be with Christ. It is related of Whit- 
 field, that in his last visit but one which he 
 paid to America, he spent a day or two at 
 Princeton, under the roof of Dr. Finley, then 
 President of the College at that place. At 
 dinner Dr. F. said, "Mr. W., I hope it will be 
 very long before you will be called home; but 
 when that event shall arrive, I shall be glad to 
 hear the noble testimony you will bear for 
 God." "You will be disappointed, Doctor," 
 said W., " I shall die silent. It has pleased 
 God to enable me to bear so many testimonies 
 for him during my life, that he will require 
 none from me when I die." The manner of 
 his death verified this prediction. 
 
 In regard to the subject of this sketch, it 
 may be said with almost equal truth, that he 
 died silent. His testimony for God is to be 
 found, mainly, in an active and successful min- 
 istry of more than half a century. He came 
 to his grave in advanced age, not so much by 
 
150 LIFE OF DR, CLELAND. 
 
 the power of disease, as in .consequence of .the 
 weariug out of the machinery of life. This 
 was indicated by the singular fact, that on the 
 day of his death he discharged from his stom- 
 ach grapes which he had eaten nearly three 
 months previously ; which showed that that 
 organ had long since ceased the active discharge 
 of its functions. His strength gradually, though 
 steadily, failed for many weeks. Consequently, 
 he became very languid and feeble ; he was 
 able and inclined to talk but little. As he was 
 naturally social in his temperament and fluent 
 in conversation, it was a matter of surprise, 
 with some of his friends, that he had so little to 
 say in his last days on the great themes of eter- 
 nity and salvation. But, when spoken to of 
 his hopes and prospects of heaven, he conversed 
 freely and satisfactorily. "When asked by one 
 of his children how he felt as he drew near his 
 last end, he replied, "that he had no fear of the 
 sting of death; yet, that he felt a shrinking 
 from death, when he thought of being ushered 
 into the presence of God, who is so infinitely 
 pure and holy, and he so sinful and impure." 
 He said, " I have two prayers on my dying 
 lips," one is, " God be merciful to me, a sinner." 
 The other, "Lord, receive my spirit." He said, 
 also, "that he had not a doubt of his accept- 
 ance, and that he could see his way to heaven 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 151 
 
 as dear and as plain as he could see his way 
 to Harrodsburg." 
 
 lie felt that he had heen a very unprofitable 
 servant. A few hours before his departure, 
 when he had ceased to converse with those 
 about him, and as if talking with God, he was 
 heard to say, " unprofitable servant, unprofit- 
 able servant ! " His reliance for salvation was 
 on Christ alone, whom he had so often and so 
 earnestly preached as the only Savior of sin- 
 ners. He greatly lamented his want of fervor 
 in his last days, and expressed the thought that 
 it was not desirable for Christians to live to old 
 age, as they could not have the fervor of youth. 
 He delighted to hear the voice of prayer and 
 praise to the end, as they ascended from the 
 family altar; and he frequently asked his 
 Christian friends to remember him in their 
 prayers. 
 
 He died on the evening of the holy Sabbath. 
 In the morning of that day, the late Rev. Dr. 
 Ryors called to see him. The particulars of 
 that interview can not now be given; but his 
 reply to various epiestions was clear and expres- 
 sive of a good hope of eternal life. Two of 
 his children remained with him, while others 
 of the household went to the sanctuary. With 
 unusual animation he spoke to them of a pas- 
 sage of Dr. Scott, in his commentary on Ileb. 
 
152 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 vi : 11, in which he sets forth the distinction 
 between the assurance of the understanding, 
 the assurance of faith, and the assurance of 
 hope. He requested the volume containing it 
 should be brought, and the passage read. 
 (See in loco). He then said that these re- 
 marks had often given him great comfort'; 
 and it is probable that he was then in pos- 
 session of the assurance of understanding, of 
 faith, and of hope. 
 
 This was the last conversation he had with 
 any one on the subject of religion. Shortly 
 after it, the king of terrors advanced for the 
 final conflict. He felt that the hour had come. 
 He was taken with severe pain, which con- 
 tinued for two or three hours; after which 
 all suffering seemed to cease, and, at about ten 
 o'clock, Sabbath evening, Jan. 31, 1858, he 
 calmly and peacefully fell asleep in Jesus, in 
 the eightieth year of his age. 
 
 Two days afterward his surviving sons and 
 daughters, and their offspring, his neighbors 
 and his spiritual children, assembled in the old 
 church for the worship of God ; and, after 
 that, they buried him in the adjacent grave- 
 yard among the pioneers of central Kentucky ; 
 among his well tried friends, and among those 
 he had baptized in infancy, married, admitted 
 to the flock of the great Shepherd, and then 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 153 
 
 buried in the hope of the resurrection of the 
 dead; in which hope he too was buried. 
 
 It would be superfluous, after having laid be- 
 fore the reader so many characteristic pas- 
 sages from his autobiography, to attempt any 
 formal delineation of his character as a man 
 and as a Christian. Native good sense, shrewd- 
 and love of the truth, formed the basis of 
 his intellectual character; unaffected piety, 
 zeal, profound knowledge of the truthful, con- 
 secration to the work of the ministry, were 
 the elements of his spiritual life. For the rest, 
 his hospitality was unbounded, his attachment 
 to his friends uncalculating, his moral and reli- 
 gious character were without a stain. 
 
 As a preacher of the Gospel, he was emin- 
 ently sound and orthodox. His sermons and 
 his writings show that he had an intelligent 
 and cordial faith in the doctrines of his church. 
 The infinite love of God in choosiug 
 whom he would make the heirs of salvation 
 the infinite love of Christ in redeeming the 
 chosen ones, the infinite love of the Holy Spirit 
 in renewing and sanctifying the chosen and re- 
 deemed ones, was the Bubstance of his preach- 
 ing as to the triune God. The innate depravity 
 of the heart, its total corruption and alienation 
 from God, man's entire dependence on the 
 grace of God for salvation, was the substance 
 15 
 
154 LIFE OF DK. CLELAND. 
 
 of his doctrine concerning man. The vicari- 
 ous sacrifice of Christ, propitiation through his 
 blood, salvation by his name and by that name 
 only, was his fixed and inward conviction re- 
 specting the way of salvation. 
 
 He was, in a degree, perhaps, unusually 
 Scriptural in his preaching. His sermons con- 
 sisted in exposition of such parts of the Bible 
 as belonged to the subjects with which he dealt 
 in the pulpit. The attention of strangers was 
 most forcibly arrested by his habit of quoting 
 large portions of the sacred Word, making the 
 citations with verbal accuracy, and giving chap- 
 ter and verse for every passage, and all this 
 from his memory, which seemed never at fault 
 even in the very letter of the Divine "Word. He 
 needed neither Bible nor concordance, nor even 
 hymn book or written sermon. "Thy word 
 have I hid in my heart." "Let my mouth 
 be filled with thy praise." " My tongue is the 
 pen of the ready writer." 
 
 Another controlling element in his preach- 
 ing, was his unaffected simplicity. He sought 
 not the applause of his hearers, he was intent 
 on winning their souls. His sermons were in- 
 structive and interesting to cultivated minds, 
 but it is the noblest praise to say of him, as is 
 said of his Master, " the common people heard 
 him gladly." He was, in the best sense of the 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 155 
 
 term, a man of the people. lie had been rear- 
 ed among them; he had led the life of a pio- 
 neer; he had been an industrious, frugal man, 
 associating all his days with his fellow men ; 
 his habits and manners were of the simplest 
 type; he was ever in lively sympathy with 
 those around him. 
 
 His own religious experience had been singu- 
 larly sharp and diversified. The reader, who 
 has attentively considered the early religious 
 history of Dr. Cleland, as it is set forth in 
 the fourth and fifth chapters of this volume, 
 has discovered the sources of his well known 
 power to reveal the workings of the human 
 heart in its conflicts with the depraved passions, 
 the suggestions of the natural conscience, the 
 temptations of Satan, and the influences of the 
 Holy Spirit. 
 
 His own inward struggles had taught him 
 how to interpret the spiritual struggles of both 
 sinner and saint in every stage of religious 
 anxiety. Xot having himself enjoyed the ad- 
 vantages of a pious parentage, he well remem- 
 bered the darkness and ignorance of his early 
 years. lie depicts, most vividly, one of the 
 characteristics of the awakened sinner in the 
 incidents of his own life at Greensburg: when 
 a boy of eighteen, he stole away into the 
 woods, hid himself in a sink hole, and there 
 
156 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 prayed ; opening his eyes, even In that lonely 
 spot, to see if any one was looking at him. 
 He discovered, too, the characteristics of the 
 timid young Christian in his first attempt at 
 family prayer, in the house of Mrs. Bunlap, at 
 Pisgah; and he experienced one of the deepest 
 spiritual troubles known to the youthful disci- 
 ple in the darkness which overtook him on the 
 occasion of his first communion in the Lord's 
 supper. Then, also, the help which the Lord 
 gave him, when though an innkeeper, he setup 
 the family altar ; and, when led on step by step, 
 he became successively a public exhorter, a li- 
 centiate, a missionary to distant and frontier 
 settlements, a pastor, a powerful preacher of 
 the Word in camp-meetings and other great 
 assemblies, all this varied religions experience 
 furnished him with his remarkable wisdom in 
 winning souls. He preached from the heart, 
 and therefore to the heart. He was taught of 
 the Spirit, in the way of an inward and poten- 
 tial discipline, and he was able to teach others, 
 also. He was a steward of the mysteries of God, 
 for these had been revealed within his own bo- 
 som. When he preached, or exhorted, or dealt 
 with the consciences of men in private conversa- 
 tion, he seemed to have received, if we may so 
 speak, the gift of discerning spirits : — a rare and 
 inestimable gift to the minister of the Word. 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 157 
 
 To these qualifications he added that of pow- 
 erful appeal to the hearts of men. He possess- 
 ed a certain unusual gift of pathos. "When in 
 his prime, he rarely closed his sermon without 
 introducing a direct address to the emotions of 
 the hearers, and this appeal was so affection- 
 ate, so tender, uttered in the tones of his 
 sweet voice, and with the beaming of his en- 
 gaging countenance, that the audience was not 
 unfrequently melted to tears. And when the 
 spirit of God was poured out upon him and 
 upon his hearers, his entreaties, beseeching 
 sinners to be reconciled to God, were well nigh 
 irresistible. His words were clothed with that 
 subtle, indiscribable power which we call unc- 
 tion. It is not natural eloquence, it is not the 
 result of education, nor the product of human 
 art or passion. It is a gift of the spirit of 
 God unto him, which makes him mighty in the 
 Scriptures, full of faith and the Holy Ghost. 
 The venerable man who is the subject of this 
 memoir was one of the select few on whom 
 this grace has been bestowed. 
 
158 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Dr. Cleland as a Preacher. 
 
 There is evidently at this day a vast differ- 
 ence between the amount of preaching we have 
 and the number of those converted by it. We 
 can not account for this, from the fact that we 
 do not hear the same gospel now that was 
 preached by Peter on the day of Pentecost, and 
 subsequently by Paul, and Whitfield, and Ed- 
 wards. Neither has that gospel ceased to be 
 the power of God unto salvation. Where there 
 is so much preaching, and so little repenting, it 
 shows that there is something wrong ; or to say 
 the least of it, something wanting in such min- 
 istrations. What can it be ? There lies some- 
 where a secret element of success in preaching the 
 gospel, which has been practically discovered 
 by only a few. There never was a subject pre- 
 sented to the Church, and especially to her 
 ministry, of more practical and momentous 
 importance than this. 
 
 We propose to offer a few suggestions upon 
 this point, in connection with the ministerial 
 labors of our venerable father, Dr. Cleland ; be- 
 
LIFE OF DK. GLELANB. 159 
 
 cause we believe that his manner of preaching 
 was a practical illustration of the truths which 
 they have helped to suggest. 
 
 We all readily admit, that ''Paul may plant, 
 and Apollos water, hut God gives the increase," 
 Christ said; " Without me ye can do nothing'." 
 Though we preach with the tongues of men 
 and angels, yet, without God's spirit, it is but 
 as sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal. Man 
 can not convert his fellow-man without Di- 
 vine aid. 
 
 'Tis equally true, that God has ordained the 
 conversion of men through human instrumen- 
 tality — by the foolishness of preaching. "How 
 shall they believe on Him of whom they have 
 not heard, and how shall they hear without a 
 preacher?" The two agencies must somehow 
 be harmoniously united. There is somewhere 
 a point of contact between the two. The one 
 will not, and. the other can not act indepen- 
 dently. 
 
 'Tis most clear, that the Holy Spirit, whose 
 office it is to convince the world of sin, of 
 righteousness, and judgment, will not, under 
 all circumstances, unite his agency with the 
 agency of man. 
 
 " If ye abide in me, and my words abide in 
 you, ye shall ask what ye will, and it shall be 
 done unto you." Nothing, then, shall be im- 
 
160 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 possible to your faith. And so shall ye bear 
 much fruit." The world will believe on Christ 
 when Christ, and his people, and ministering 
 servants are in holy union and fellowship — but 
 not otherwise. They must have the indwelling 
 of the Sjnrit. They may have all else — learning, 
 talents, eloquence, genius — but it will avail 
 nothing without God's spirit. Paul unravels 
 the whole secret of his success. He had the 
 " unction of the Holy Ghost"— "And I, brethren, 
 came to you not with excellency of speech, or 
 of wisdom, declaring unto you the testimony 
 of God. And my speech, and my preaching 
 was not in the enticing word's of man's wisdom, 
 but in demonstration of the Spirit, and of power. 
 That your faith should not stand in the wisdom of 
 men, but in the power of God." — I. Cor. ii : 1-5. 
 
 Dr. CI el and possessed this " unction of the 
 Spirit " to a remarkable degree. His preaching' 
 was '- with power" because accompanied with 
 " the Holy Ghost." 
 
 The Church is ever ready to acknowledge 
 her dependence upon the Spirit. This is espe- 
 cially true of the ministry. This is well. It is 
 a very important admission. But there yet 
 remains a far deeper, wider, higher, and vastly 
 more important truth for her to discover, and 
 practically realize, before "the Kingdom of 
 God will come with power, and great glory," 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. K-1 
 
 It is that she and her ministry must have the 
 indwelling and fellowship of the Spirit. To f< 
 the need of a medicine never heals* To feci the 
 want of it is one thing, but to enjoy its healing 
 and life-giving virtues is another thing. The 
 former can do no good whatever, without the 
 latter. We may preach the gospel in its purity 
 and simplicity, and with an acknowledged 
 dependence upon God, and yet not have the 
 unction, or the indwelling of the Spirit, and it will 
 not be the power of God unto salvation. There 
 is none of the power of God in such preaching ; 
 and what is more, the salvation of those who 
 hear such a gospel, stands in the wisdom of 
 men, and not in the power of God. Such 
 preaching brings none to life, because the life- 
 giving power of the Holy Spirit is not in it. 
 It is unsuccessful because it is unsavory. The 
 most learned, eloquent, pungent, and faithful 
 presentation of the truth from the pulpit, deliv- 
 ered, it may be, "with tongues of men and 
 angels," will be but " as sounding brass, or 
 a tinkling cymbal," unless accompanied with 
 the indwelling spirit and life-giving power of 
 the Holy Spirit. Ah, here lies that mysterious 
 dissolvent that turns hearts of stone into hearts 
 of flesh I 
 
 A minister not imbued with the Spirit of 
 Christ, is like Sampson shorn of his locks. 
 
102 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 His strength is gone, because " he wist not that 
 the Spirit of God had departed from him." 
 Here lays the source of his strength. But let 
 the Spirit of the Lord but return unto him 
 again, he will then bow himself, and by the 
 borrowed strength of an omnipotent God drag 
 the pillars of the temple of sin in the dust. 
 
 " It is high time," says Dr. Phillip, in his life 
 of Whitfield, " that the church of Christ should 
 consider, not only the duty of depending upon 
 the Spirit, but also the import, and the import- 
 ance of the ' demonstration of the Spirit ' in 
 preaching." That is more than the demonstra- 
 tion of orthodoxy, of sound scholarship and hard 
 study. It is even more than the demonstration 
 of sincerity and fidelity, or of great heat and 
 zeal, of loud and boisterous declamation. To 
 preach in the demonstration of the Spirit, is 
 even more than to bring out the mind of the 
 Spirit faithfully and fully. What the " Spirit 
 saith to the churches," may be repeated to the 
 churches without evasion or flattering; but it 
 will not be heard as his counsel, or consolation, 
 unless it is spoken with something of his love 
 and solemnity. 
 
 This will be more obvious by looking at the 
 truth as it is in Jesus. In him it was grace, as 
 well as truth. All his heart, and soul, and 
 strength, breathes and burns in his words. His 
 
LIFE OP DR. CLELAND. 1U-J 
 
 motives arc a part of his meaning. He makes 
 ns to feel that he feels more for souls than 
 words can express. He compels us to see a 
 beaming of earnestness in his eye, to hear a 
 beating of intense solicitude in his heart, and 
 to recognize a fixedness of purpose in his man- 
 ner, unspeakably beyond what he says. The 
 real pleading of our Saviour for sinners begins 
 when his words end. His weeping silence, after 
 speaking as never man spake, tells more of his 
 gracious love for souls, than all his gracious 
 words. "We feel that he feels he has gained 
 nothing by preaching, unless he has won souls. 
 He leaves the conviction upon every heart that 
 nothing can please him but the heart. Xo man 
 ever rose, or can rise, from reading the entreat- 
 ies of Christ, without feeling that he is in 
 earnest to save souls. So the apostles tried to 
 put themselves in Christ's stead, when he was 
 no longer upon earth to beseech men to be 
 reconciled to God. The} 7- were not content to 
 say what Christ said; but as he said it,- in the 
 demonstration of his Spirit. They could not 
 realize fully the manner in which God would 
 plead his own cause, were he upon earth. But 
 still their reasoning was not unlike his manifold 
 wisdom ; nor their appeal unworthy of his pa- 
 ternal tenderness ; nor their remonstrances in- 
 consistent with his judicial authority. There 
 
164 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 was a fine demonstration of the Spirit in the 
 boldness of Peter, in the. sublimity of Paul, and 
 in the heavenliness of John. 
 
 Nothing is so simple, and yet nothing is so 
 sublime, as preaching the gospel with the Holy 
 Ghost sent down from heaven. Any prayerful, 
 thoughtful minister may preach in this Spirit, 
 for it neither includes nor excludes great tal- 
 ents, learning or ingenuity. " The unction of 
 the Holy Spirit" can subordinate the mightiest 
 and masterliest minds to the one grand object 
 of watching for souls. It can also render sub- 
 servient and successful the most ordinary pow- 
 ers of mind. The acute reasonings of Wesley, 
 and the warmhearted beseechings of Whitfield, 
 are alike the demonstration of the Spirit. 
 
 In like manner many of their uneducated 
 colleagues turned many to righteousness, and 
 were themselves turned into stars that shall 
 shine forever in the firmament of the Church in 
 both worlds. The secret of their success was 
 the same in both classes of preachers — their 
 heart, their soul, and their all was in the work. 
 Truth had the force of divine truth, the fire of 
 eternal truth, the glory of saving truth upon 
 their minds. Accordingly the regular congre- 
 gations, and the promiscuous crowds felt that 
 they were on fire to watch for souls, and were 
 compelled to admit that even men who had 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 165 
 
 not been to the University had been with Jesus 
 and were indeed moved by the Holy Ghost. 
 
 Happily this spirit can not be imitated in 
 preaching. It may be imbibed and breathed 
 
 by any devotional minister; but it can not be 
 copied. No tones, looks, or tears can demon- 
 strate the presence of the Spirit in a sermon, if 
 the preacher be not in the Spirit before coming 
 into the pulpit. Neither the melting, nor the 
 kindling of men half devoted, can melt down, 
 or wield an audience by the gospel ! because the 
 Holy Ghost will not honor fits and starts of 
 fidelity. Never does a preacher dupe himself, 
 or endanger others more, than when he ima- 
 gines that the Spirit will give power to the gos- 
 pel among his people, while he has not power 
 upon himself. God makes his ministers a bles- 
 sing to others, by blessing themselves first. He 
 first works in them, and then by them. A 
 minister ought to be as much ashamed, and 
 more afraid of being unbaptized with the Holy 
 Ghost and fire, than of being ignorant of the 
 original languages. Men who can demonstrate 
 the problems of Euclid, or the import of the 
 Greek and Hebrew idioms, have no excuse for 
 not being able to preach the gospel with the 
 demonstration of the Holy Ghost ! 
 
 The Holy Spirit is given to the Church as a 
 blessed and permanent legacy. And that Spirit 
 
166 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 abides in her, so that whatever she may ask 
 will be granted unto her. "Without me ye can 
 do nothing" said Christ. 'Tis a truth equally 
 important, that " through Christ she can do all 
 things" The resources of the Church are un- 
 limited and omnipotent j did she but know how 
 to avail herself of them. We believe that the 
 practical development of this great truth will 
 soon "give the kingdom, and the dominion, 
 and greatness of the kingdom to the saints of 
 the Most High." 
 
 There has always resided in steam an expan- 
 sive power, by which the commerce of the 
 world might always have been transported, 
 books printed, clothing for the world manufac- 
 tured — -thereby almost annihilating the ancient 
 curse, which doomed the race to unremitting 
 labor — yet the world for generations remained 
 in ignorance of its properties, or knew not how 
 to avail themselves of them. But now, behold 
 what a revolution that single discovery has 
 made ! So Grod has deposited the influences of 
 his Spirit with his Church — his word and ordi- 
 nances. All that is wonderful in his wisdom, 
 mighty in his power, and glorious in his grace, 
 is offered to the Church, without limit or re- 
 serve — u All, all are yours." But through her 
 ignorance and inaptitude, the Church has failed 
 hitherto, to rightly develop her resources. We 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 167 
 
 think ill ore is a wonderful significancy in the 
 teachings of our Saviour, in the fifteenth chap- 
 ter of John, which has hitherto not been clearly 
 understood by the Church at large. But we 
 trust the day will soon come, when she will 
 know how to avail herself of all the resources 
 of omnipotent power and grace bequeathed 
 unto her. Then she will arise and shine, her 
 light being come, and the glory of the Lord 
 risen upon her. 
 
 We have made these remarks in connection 
 with the name of Dr. Cleland, because we be- 
 lieve they have received, to a good degree, a 
 practical illustration in his public ministrations. 
 He was a man of acknowledged power in the 
 pulpit. Not only the " common people," but all 
 elapses " heard him gladly," and hundreds, if not 
 thousands to the everlasting joy of their souls. 
 His manner of preaching was plain and simple, 
 without any attempt at fine style, or demon- 
 stration of the words of man's wisdom. His 
 address was familiar, affectionate, and conver- 
 sational. His style plain Saxon, highly Scrip- 
 tural, and didactic. His voice was remarkably 
 clear and melodious, and " was to them as a 
 very lovely song of one that hath a pleasant 
 voice, and can play well upon an instrument;" 
 and being possessed of a clear knowledge of 
 
168 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 human nature, he knew bow, as a skillful player, 
 to touch the responsive chords of sympathy in 
 the hearts of his hearers. His enunciation, 
 though rapid, was distinct, and impressive. 
 There was a convincing earnestness in his man- 
 ner, that at once impressed his audience with 
 the force of his convictions. But above all, 
 there was an holy unction, a heavenly, touching 
 pathos, that is wholly indescribable, which gave 
 a lustre to his eye, a tremulous sweetness to his 
 voice, a beaming of affection to his countenance, 
 and an intense earnestness to his manner. 
 Here we think " lay the hidings of his power." 
 In one corner of his garden was permitted to 
 grow up a tall, dense clump of cane. If you 
 would trace the hard-beaten path to a certain 
 sacred spot, still more firmly beaten, you would 
 soon learn where he obtained these hidingsrof 
 his power. Oh, there is a wonderful connec- 
 tion between callous knees and the tremulous 
 cry, " What must I do to be saved ? " 
 
 In the prime of his life his discourses were 
 usually from an hour to an hour and a half in 
 length ; but they were listened to with unabated, 
 yea, increasing interest to the last. The first 
 hour was taken up in expounding the text, and 
 discussing the leading topic of the discourse ; 
 and when he had gotten the subject fully before 
 the minds of his hearers, he would then enforce 
 
LIFE OP DR. CLELAND. 169 
 
 the whole by a most animated and moving 
 exhortation. His manner was so earnest, and 
 often vehement, but never boisterous, that all 
 the clothing next to his person was perfectly 
 saturated with perspiration; and oftentimes 
 the effect upon his audience was overpowering. 
 The house was usually filled to its utmost 
 capacity. Under these most melting appeals 
 the whole congregation were bowed upon their 
 seats, and forcibly reminded one of a wheat- 
 field after a storm had passed over it. There 
 would not be a dry eye in the whole house. 
 It would seem as if the flinty rock had been 
 smitten by the hand of Moses. Oftentimes 
 many could not refrain from weeping aloud, 
 while others rejoiced before the Lord. Some- 
 times scores were convicted under one such 
 discourse. He had at one time a continuous 
 revival of seven years in one of his churches. 
 Nor were his labors confined to his own field ; 
 other churches enjoyed the fruits of his labors. 
 Those four-days meetings were often signalized 
 by a wonderful outpouring of God's Spirit; 
 and during such occasions as high as from 
 twenty to sixty have been hopefully converted 
 to Christ. 
 
 In the year 1809 he attended as Commis- 
 sioner, the General Assembly at Philadelphia. 
 Dr. Alexander was then pastor of the church 
 1G 
 
170 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 in which, the Assembly held its sessions. He 
 requested Mr. Cleland to preach for him on 
 Sabbath night. He asked Dr. A. how the peo- 
 ple of Philadelphia liked Western preaching. 
 "Very well," replied the Dr., "when they 
 preach in the same manner they do at home. 
 But when they try to preach like the preachers 
 in the East, they spoil it all." " Thank you, 
 Dr., I will try and profit by the suggestion," 
 said Mr. C. to himself. His theme, that night, 
 was the " Heavenly Society," from Rev. vii : 9. 
 Nearly the whole Assembly were present. He 
 alluded to the fact that, that day, they had been 
 scattered and divided ; but the day was not far 
 distant when they should all meet at the Gen- 
 eral Assembly and Church of the First Born 
 in heaven. He preached in his usual style, with 
 great fervor and unction. The entire congre- 
 gation, preachers and people, were melted into 
 tears. He was from that time called " The 
 little Whitfield of the West." 
 
 Perhaps one of the most effective sermons 
 that he ever preached was delivered at Union 
 church. He was on his way to an appointment 
 of his own, and stopped by the way to listen to 
 a discourse by a Methodist preacher. In the 
 run of his discourse the speaker indulged in a 
 little invective against what he regarded as a 
 very great heresy. He denounced Calvinism 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 171 
 
 k - as begotten of the devil and hatched in hell." 
 On his return on Monday following, Mr. C. 
 
 found the meeting still in progress, and attend- 
 ed with considerable interest. Both of the 
 preachers on the ground had. in the meantime, 
 become so exhausted and hoarse, that they 
 could neither exhort nor preach. " Mr. C, you 
 must preach for us." "Ah, but if I do, I will 
 be compelled to preach that doctrine which you 
 dislike so much." "Ah, never mind that now." 
 So lie consented to preach, and took for his 
 discourse that singular text, "Take us the, 
 foxes, the little foxes that spoil the vines." 
 
 After describing the destructive nature of 
 these little animals, he made a spiritual, and, 
 perhaps, a somewhat personal, application of 
 the subject. " There are many kinds of foxes," 
 said he ; " but, perhaps, the most mischievous 
 of all is that old fox with his long grey beard, 
 called prejudice" And, after having dealt a se- 
 vere and justly merited rebuke as the case de- 
 manded, he proceeded to a more general appli- 
 cation of the subject to his congregation. 
 Many of them began to weep aloud ; and, be- 
 fore he was done, multitudes lay all around him 
 prostrated upon tiie ground, and crying for 
 mercy, until his own voice was so drowned 
 that he was compelled to desist. And from 
 that time on, as long as the meeting continued, 
 
172 LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 
 
 in every prayer and exhortation the cry was, 
 " Lord, take us the foxes, the little foxes that 
 spoil the vines." 
 
 Dr. C. could tell an anecdote, or weave in a 
 passing incident, with great effect. We will il- 
 lustrate this remark by only a single instance. 
 When near the close of his life, he was visited 
 by his two sons in the ministry, at the time of 
 his usual sacramental meeting. At that time 
 Mrs. C. was confined to her dying bed. He 
 alluded, in his remarks — as he arose to admin- 
 ister the communion — to the conflicting emo- 
 tions that filled his heart. He felt that he was 
 near the end of life ; his work on earth would 
 soon be ended. But he rejoiced that there 
 were those upon whom his mantle would rest, 
 when he was no more. He said, he felt as did 
 Father G-eno, a venerable Baptist minister, who 
 some years before had been unexpectedly vis- 
 ited by his son, the Rev. Stephen Geno, of 
 Baltimore. The old man, at an Association of 
 his church, gave utterance to his feelings, by 
 taking for his text, " Thou hast comforted me 
 by the coming of Stephanus" After making a 
 touching application of this incident, Dr. 0. 
 then paused, looking down to the vacant seat, 
 so long occupied by one so long endeared to 
 them all, he added with a pathos, that at once 
 touched every heart, and moved the whole 
 
LIFE OF DR. CLELAND. 173 
 
 assembly to tears — " but there is one absent, 
 who has oft communed with us; but she will 
 
 not drink this wine with us any more, until 
 she drinks it anew in our Father's kingdom." 
 
 Dr. C. had no less influence with his people 
 out of his pulpit than in it. He possessed a 
 happy art in talking to them personally, upon 
 the subject of their souls' salvation. He was a 
 man of great wisdom in managing his temporal 
 affairs, and of equal prudence in attending to 
 the concerns of others. And perhaps no man 
 ever lived, who so effectually succeeded, unin- 
 tentionally in many things, in stamping the 
 impress of his own character upon all those 
 around him. 
 
 So thus, by his perfect knowledge of the 
 human heart, by his exemplary prudence, by 
 his holy walk and conversation, and his faithful 
 preaching of Christ and him crucified, he has 
 turned many to righteousness, and is himself 
 turned into a star that shall shine forever and 
 ever in the firmament of heaven. 
 
174 APPENDIX. 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 [We take the liberty to subjoin the folio w- 
 ing notice of the death of Dr. Cleland, as a 
 very brief and condensed, but just and compre- 
 hensive estimate of his character, taken from 
 the "Presbyterian Expositor." The article is 
 from the pen of Rev. Nathan L. Rice, D. D., 
 Chicago, 111.] 
 
 Death of Rev. Thomas Clelaxd, D. D. — This 
 venerable minister of Christ closed his earthly 
 career on the 31st of January, in the eightieth 
 year of his age. 
 
 From early childhood, the name of Dr. Cle- 
 land has been as familiar to us as household 
 words. One of the churches of which he was, 
 for many years, pastor, that in Harrodsburg, is 
 within twelve miles of the place where our 
 youthful days were spent; and frequently he 
 visited that neighborhood for the purpose of 
 preaching the gospel to a feeble church, or to 
 solemnize marriages. His sterling integrity, 
 his earnest piety, his sound judgment and his 
 pulpit eloquence, gave him great influence 
 
APPENDIX. 175 
 
 among the people; and the announcement that 
 he was to preach, always collected a large 
 audience. 
 
 For many years, Dr. Cleland was, we believe, 
 the most popular Presbyterian preacher in Ken- 
 tucky; and as he possessed a robust constitu- 
 tion, preached extemporaneously, commonly 
 using a brief skeleton, and spoke with extraor- 
 dinary ease to himself; his labors were much 
 in demand. Few ministers, we believe, have 
 enjoyed more extensive usefulness, both in the 
 conversion of sinners and in the edification of 
 believers. In several respects, he was an extra- 
 ordinary preacher. He preached more on doc- 
 trinal subjects than most ministers; and he had 
 the happy tact of so illustrating doctrinal truths 
 as to strike the minds of the people, and at the 
 same time their practical bearing was exhibited 
 with great effect. He was accustomed to con- 
 verse familiarly with all classes of persons, in 
 all states of mind ; and thus he learned, what 
 many ministers never learn, how to preach to 
 the people. 
 
 The great excellency of his sermons, and one 
 principal secret of his success, was, that they 
 abounded in Scripture quotations and explana- 
 tions. He did literally "preach the word." A 
 rich Christian experience enabled him to preach 
 
176 APPENDIX. 
 
 with far greater effect the precious truths, the 
 power of which his own heart had felt. 
 
 Dr. Cleland had an extraordinary control 
 over the sympathic feelings of his hearers. 
 There was something peculiar in the tones of 
 his voice, adapted to awaken in the minds of 
 others the strong emotions of his own ; and 
 not unfrequently he introduced an anecdote, 
 which he could tell with great effect. Under 
 his melting appeals, we have repeatedly seen 
 almost the entire congregation weeping, and in 
 one or two instances, have heard them sob and 
 even cry out. We have known no man who 
 could so control the feelings of his hearers, as 
 Dr. Cleland, when in his happiest moods. 
 
 His social qualities added much to Dr. Cle- 
 land's influence. He was the furthest possible 
 from moroseness; and he had none of that 
 'professional dignity, which rendered it difficult 
 for either old or young persons to approach 
 him. And if he could tell anecdotes in the 
 pulpit, which would draw tears from all eyes, 
 he could as readily tell anecdotes in the social 
 circle, that would convulse all with laughter. 
 Few ministers, we believe, enjoyed a more uni- 
 form cheerfulness, or contributed more to the 
 cheerfulness of those around him. 
 
 Dr. Cleland was remarkable for the punctual 
 fulfillment of his appointments, and for his uni- 
 
APPENDIX. 177 
 
 form attendance upon the meetings of church 
 courts. His efficiency, however, was mainly in 
 the pulpit, not in ecclesiastical bodies. His 
 writing's were chiefly, if not exclusively, of a 
 controversial character. He did important ser- 
 vice in the controversy with Barton W. Stone, 
 and published some good tracts on Campbell- 
 ism. His forte, however, was in the pulpit. 
 lie published a Hymn-Book, which was much 
 used in Kentucky from twenty-five to thirty 
 years ago. 
 
 Having known him for many years, we were 
 prepared for the announcement, that he has 
 been looking forward "with pleasing anticipa- 
 tion to the period of his release." His ministry 
 extended through a period of about fifty-four 
 years. He reared a large family of children, 
 two of whom are ministers of the gospel, and 
 one is the wife of a minister. 
 
 This imperfect tribute we feel constrained to 
 pay to the memory of one whom we have long 
 loved, from whom we and our father's family 
 have received spiritual benefits in past years. 
 
 [The following communication is from the 
 pen of Rev. Harvey Woods, Cookville, Miss.] 
 
 Rev. and Dear Sir, — I was much pleased to 
 
 hear that you are preparing a memoir of your 
 
 venerable father. I trust you will succeed in 
 
 rearing a monument worthy of the subject, and 
 
 17 
 
178 APPENDIX. 
 
 thus leave to posterity a grateful testimonial to 
 the excellence of a great and good man. 
 
 1 would contribute a stone to aid in the struc- 
 ture — a tribute to private, Christian, and min- 
 isterial worth. I, therefore, willingly comply 
 with your request, in "giving such facts, im- 
 pressions, etc., of him," as I can recall. 
 
 Among my early recollections in Tennessee, 
 almost fifty years ago, were conversations, 
 among my relatives, in relation to your father. 
 My parents were brought up in Kentucky, 
 amid the privations and dangers of frontier 
 and station life ; and, like yours, they shared 
 in the revival that characterized the beginning 
 of the nineteenth century in Kentucky and 
 Tennessee. 
 
 My parents were only occasional hearers of 
 your father, but were most favorably impressed, 
 and strongly attached to him. The young man 
 who taught the first school to which I was sent 
 was brought up at Paint Lick. He afterward 
 became my uncle by marriage, and as an evi- 
 dence of the high regard he had for your 
 father, he named his oldest son "Oleland," 
 This would lead me and others to inquire, 
 why he was so named ; and this doubtless led 
 to many an animated conversation about the 
 distant and distinguished young preacher. 
 Long years before I saw him I had made 
 
APPENDIX. 179 
 
 his acquaintance in this kind of traditional 
 manner. 
 
 I was taught to regard ministers with vener- 
 ation. My early impressions as to your father 
 could not have been otherwise than favorable — 
 my prepossessions strong. Like other young 
 people of that day, I was curious to see great 
 men, and especially great preachers. But my 
 curiosity, in this case, was not gratified till 
 some years after I entered the ministry. 
 
 I have often heard of " great men" and have 
 been curious to see them. But I have fre- 
 quently felt that they were great men made of 
 small material — men of great pretensions — 
 great because their fathers were great — great 
 mainly because of their great vanity, or great 
 ambition — that their greatness was fictitious, 
 or accidental — the result of happening, in a 
 political or theological scuffle, to fall upper- 
 most, or of luckily falling on the strong side in 
 times of high party excitement. But I was 
 never disappointed in Dr. Cleland. He was 
 naturally, intrinsically great, aside from all 
 partyism, or accidental cans 
 
 I first saw him in April, 1834, at a meeting 
 of Transylvania Presbytery, in Glasgow, Ky., 
 to which place I had removed in 1833. My 
 second daughter was then an infant. I had 
 written to Ifcev. Wm. L. Brecken ridge, then of 
 
180 APPENDIX. 
 
 Danville, the only one of the Transylvania 
 brethren with whom I had formed an acquaint- 
 ance, requesting him, at the meeting of Pres- 
 bytery, to administer the ordinance of baptism, 
 and to deliver an address appropriate. He 
 wrote to me that as Dr. Cleiand was familiar 
 with the subject, he would engage his services 
 for me on that occasion. 
 
 Many persons at Glasgow, like myself, had 
 never seen him, but had often heard of him. 
 On that occasion they had the pleasure of see- 
 ing and hearing for themselves. The address 
 on Sabbath morning on baptism I particularly 
 remember. It will long be remembered by per- 
 sons at that place ; it convinced some who had 
 always been Baptists in sentiment, that immer- 
 sion is not necessary. Children more than 
 thirty miles from Glasgow, whose parents had 
 hitherto neglected their baptism, were soon 
 after baptized. 
 
 At that meeting I became acquainted with 
 Dr. Cleiand. We often corresponded, especi- 
 ally while I remained in Kentucky. But, as 
 our correspondence was mainly about ecclesi- 
 astical affairs, it would not interest the Chris- 
 tian public. I have been at your father's house, 
 and he has been at mine. AVe have been 
 together often at meetings, conventions, pres- 
 byteries, and synods, and once in the General 
 
APPENDIX. 181 
 
 Assembly. I found him every where the same 
 unpretending, unambitious, conscientious, firm, 
 and reliable man and minister. 
 
 "When I first saw him, it might have been 
 said he was growing old; but "his eye was 
 not dim, nor his natural force abated." In 
 stature he was not above a medium hight, but 
 he had a stout and vigorous frame, inclining to 
 corpulency. Men learned in such things, I 
 doubt not, would say he had a head admirably 
 formed, indicating benevolence, firmness, fancy, 
 genius, and power. 
 
 His mental character was well balanced. 
 Nature gave him a sound mind in a sound 
 body. Though at an early day in Kentucky 
 his opportunities for intellectual culture may 
 not have been of the highest order, yet all who 
 are acquainted with his preaching and his 
 writings must accord to him attainments of no 
 common order. In youth he improved what 
 opportunities he had. Having a strong and 
 active mind, and a retentive memory, and giv- 
 ing himself to his profession, and to a judicious 
 course of reading, he deserved to rank high as 
 a theologian. His letters and his writings 
 evince the correctness of his scholarship. 
 
 His long ministerial life was also character- 
 ized by commendable assiduity." He was not 
 the man, to be sure, to go blind at 30, by pour- 
 
182 APPENDIX. 
 
 ing over books at midnight hours, nor to kill 
 himself at 40 by sedentary and abstemious 
 habits, nursing a torpid liver, or taking pills to 
 cure the dyspepsia. In nothing did he exhibit 
 more good sense than in the proper distribu- 
 tion of his time, between exercise, riding, 
 preaching, study, sleep, rest, etc. ISTor did he 
 lay his armor off, and cease to study and work, 
 when he became old. The last meeting but 
 one (1854) of the General Assembly which he 
 attended was in "Washington City in 1852. 
 During that meeting the Assembly, in a body, 
 on the 22d May, made a visit to Mt. Vernon. 
 By the way I asked him his age. Said he, " I 
 am 74 years old to-day." Though he was now 
 old, and but the wreck of his former self, in 
 personal appearance, yet he would not ask to 
 be excused from work. He was there far from 
 home, representing his Presbytery in the As- 
 sembly. At the same meeting he told me he 
 had with him his manuscript work on Baptism, 
 which has since been published, and which, in 
 the estimation of good judges, is, for popular 
 reading, one of the ablest works on the subject 
 in our language. 
 
 When the Assembly adjourned, we took the 
 same train, and happened to occupy the same 
 car, till we got to the Relay House. There we 
 parted, and I saw him no more. I took the 
 
APPENDIX. 183 
 
 cars for Cumberland, and ho for Saratoga, in 
 the discharge of ministerial duty, of which I 
 may say something in another place. 
 
 Would that I could say something worthy of 
 Dr. Cleland as a jrreacher — a preacher 
 
 "Endowed by nature and by learning taught. 
 To move assemblies." 
 
 I will give my own impressions. To do this 
 I will go back to his discourse at Glasgow on 
 Baptism, more than 21 years ago. It was a 
 fine morning in April, in a large and crowded 
 house. lie took his position in front of the 
 pulpit. In beginning his address, he remarked, 
 that he had no manuscript, no notes — nothing 
 but the Bible — holding up in his hand a small 
 Bible, which he had carried from my house, 
 which I now have before me. This was no 
 boast of his ability, but an acknowledgment of 
 the authority of God's w T ord, and of this alone, 
 on this controverted subject. On a blank leaf 
 lie had written "1 John v: 8;" under this a 
 heart, and about the heart, S. B. W. Here was 
 the visible foundation of one of his arguments 
 in favor of our mode of Baptism. The argu- 
 ment I thought a beautiful one, but less for- 
 cible than others. lie no doubt considered it 
 logical. lie was not the man to use an argu- 
 ment merely because he or others might think 
 it plausible. He had no taste for sophistry — 
 
184 APPENDIX. 
 
 never indulged in clap-trap, nor the ad captan- 
 dum style of declamation. I refer to this inci- 
 dent as characteristic of his method, as a 
 thinker and speaker. I have heard him preach 
 often. I never saw him use a manuscript or 
 notes. He evidently did his thinking hefore he 
 went into the pulpit, and had his main points 
 well fixed in his mind. I never saw him re- 
 duced to the necessity of talking till he could 
 think of something to say. His enunciation 
 was rapid — at times a mountain torrent. There 
 was no lack of words, nor of the right kind of 
 words. There was sometimes an apparent 
 struggle among his words to find an utterance. 
 
 I would suppose that Dr. Cleland rarely 
 wrote out his sermons at full length; hut he 
 douhtless made a wise use of pen, ink and 
 paper. In relation to the passage above quoted, 
 it was his opinion that the three witnesses on 
 earth, the Spirit, and the water, and the blood, 
 " agree in one," in the manner of their appli- 
 cation, by affusion — the Spirit poured out, the 
 blood sprinkled, and the water poured or 
 sprinkled. But in preparing to handle this 
 argument in the pulpit, he would write but 
 little: "1 John v: 8," a heart, surrounded with 
 the letters "S. B. W." With these hints, he 
 could soon arrange his thoughts. 
 
 As I have already said, he was possessed of a 
 
APPENDIX. 185 
 
 retentive memory. Jle was very familiar with 
 the Bible, could quote its words with surprising 
 readiness and accuracy. The great secret of 
 his popularity and success in preaching was 
 perhaps owing to the fact that his sermons 
 were not only rich in thought, but highly seas- 
 oned with the word of God. Had he any thing 
 to say about depravity, repentance, faith, etc., 
 he would state his positions with great clear- 
 ness, and then establish them by texts to the 
 point. 
 
 His conversation and letters were often point- 
 ed or adorned with similitudes from the Bible. 
 I have now before me one of his letters, in an- 
 swer to one from me, in which I had complain- 
 ed of some unreasonable persecution. lie re- 
 capitulates my grievances, and comforts me by 
 simply adding, "This is like Samson among 
 the Philistines, sure enough !" Knowing how 
 he would feel and look, when he would say 
 such a thing, it was enough for the time, at 
 least, to put me in a good humor. 
 
 His manners in the pulpit were unosten- 
 tatious — no effort at display — no air of superi- 
 ority. When he had stated a truth, or thrown 
 out an argument, he never seemed to feel, or to 
 desire his hearers to feel — "That is something 
 grand, or original, of which no one had ever 
 before dreamed." His gestures were simple — 
 
18t> APPENDIX. 
 
 none of the arts of the rhetorician — none of 
 the great sweeps of the orator. It was with 
 hi ni the eloquence of truth and earnestness. 
 He did not, however, stand like a statue; there 
 was necessarily some motion of the hands, 
 arms and body, consequent upon the hearings 
 of a mighty mind; as there is always some 
 motion on a steamer, when there is a powerful 
 engine working within. 
 
 His preaching was full of pathos. It was 
 moving and persuasive, rather than startling or 
 alarming. I never like to sit up about the pul- 
 pit, or in the presence of a congregation, and 
 go to crying — it is regarded as unmanly — so 
 childish and womanish. I, therefore, soon 
 learned, after hearing Dr. Cleland preach, that 
 when he was to be the officiating minister, I 
 must fix myself so that I could put my head 
 down, or cover my face with my handkerchief. 
 This was another reason of his popularity. The 
 people like to listen to the preacher that can 
 make them "feel" In the administration of 
 the sacrament of the Lord's Supper he was 
 peculiarly solemn and tender. 
 
 There are great men at the East — men of 
 learning and eloquence — but I confess my par- 
 tiality for Western oratory. I have often list- 
 ened with delight to Drs. Blackburn, Hender- 
 son, Xelson, Allan, etc.; but to none did I 
 
APPENDIX. 187 
 
 uniformly listen with more pleasure and profit 
 than to Dr. Cleland. 
 
 He was also gifted as a writer. lie had this 
 reputation long before I knew him personally. 
 Much that he has written was never put in a 
 permanent form. lie was, I think, a large con- 
 tributor to the newspaper and periodical liter- 
 ature of his day — to such works as the Calvin- 
 istic Magazine, Presbyterian Advocate, Pedo- 
 baptist, etc. Though he wielded an able pen, 
 he seemed not, even in this, to be ambitious, or 
 desirous of applause. For the most part, a 
 modest little "C." was all that could surest to 
 
 OCT 
 
 his friends that he was the author. But when- 
 ever you found an essay over "C." you found 
 an essay not only readable, but ably written. 
 lie often wrote not usin^ even the " 0." I have 
 now before me a large pamphlet of 102 pages 
 on the "Excision and Division of the Presby- 
 terian Church. By an Old Disciple." It is an 
 able work. I always supposed that Dr. Cle- 
 land was that "Old Disciple." The internal 
 evidence is, to my mind, strong and irresistible. 
 However creditable such works, he cared not 
 for the honor — he aimed at the triumph of 
 truth. As a writer he had a clear conception 
 of what he wanted to say, and could say it in 
 few, plain, and forcible words. 
 
 He was fond of peace — so much so that I 
 
188 APPENDIX. 
 
 sometimes was almost ready to regard him as 
 timid. But he was not tirqjd — he was cautious, 
 and afraid to do wrong. When, however, duty 
 was plain, no man was more ready to act. He 
 was mild, yet rigid in his adherence to prin- 
 ciple. He would follow the leadings of con- 
 science — no allurements or sacrifices could move 
 him. 
 
 Had he been fond of strife, and could he 
 have condescended to the tricks of the tactician, 
 he might have distinguished himself as a con- 
 troversialist. But he was no admirer of even 
 theological pugilists, and did not desire to have 
 such a reputation. His letters to Stone — his 
 strictures on Gampbellisrn — his work on Bap- 
 tism — his Old Disciple, etc., evince talent for 
 controversy. But he had little taste for such 
 work. What he did, his conscience hid him 
 dc — what he did was a tribute laid upon the 
 altar of truth. When forced to come out, he 
 was not harsh, vindictive, nor cruel. " Soft 
 words and hard arguments," was a favorite 
 phrase with him. He would rather suffer 
 wrong than do wrong. 
 
 lie enjoyed the confidence of the people, and 
 was popular, not only with Presbyterians, but 
 with all orthodox denominations. Few men of 
 so much greatness and goodness have encoun- 
 tered less hatred. If he would occasionally 
 
APPENDIX. 189 
 
 hear that some minister or editor had men- 
 tioned his name, and called in question his 
 honesty, consistency, or orthodoxy, it would 
 hurt his feelings more than his reputation. He 
 was not insensible to censure ; but he did not 
 go to crying and scolding, and insisting that he 
 was the worst persecuted of all God's servants. 
 He was too magnanimous for that. If he con- 
 descended to speak of such a thing, it would be 
 
 about thus : " Mr. has put a patch dri my 
 
 back, and he ought to take it off." 
 
 He stood high in the confidence and esteem of 
 Q-en. Jaekson, and many of the leading politicians 
 of his day. And in all the high political excite- 
 ments of the last half century, he has been sin- 
 gularly fortunate as a man of peace and pru- 
 dence. In one letter to me ; and, I think, only 
 one, did he ever mention politics. In that, he 
 says, " I never discussed politics, either in or out 
 of the pulpit ; never excited or offended an op- 
 ponent that I know of; read every Presiden- 
 tial Message, from Jefferson's Inaugural to the 
 present time ; always a Democrat on principle ; 
 1 Princijpia non homines,' my uniform and un- 
 varying creed ; no political partisan ; no hobby 
 rider, etc. ; always get along smoothly and 
 peaceably ; and, as far as I know, respected by 
 those opposed to me in political sentiments." 
 
 Since his death some writer says he was 
 
L90 APPENDIX. 
 
 " serious." If by this was meant that he was 
 free from levity, it is correct. But, if the writer 
 meant that he was not cheerful, it is a mistake. 
 He was every where dignified, yet plain and 
 easy in his manners. He was not only cheerful, 
 but had a good share of humor; was fond of 
 a good story, and could tell an anecdote well 
 himself. His friends will say, they found him 
 always quite companionable. 
 
 In 4he abundance of his good humor, he 
 would sometimes use expressions that nobody 
 else would dare to use. It was hard to get him to 
 preach more than his share at Presbytery or 
 Synod. When excused, he would add, " I 
 would rather preach to any other kind of sin- 
 ners than to reverend sinners," laying emphasis 
 upon the " reverend," and by his look and a 
 slight twitch, giving it a double meaning. 
 When he would hear of some unwise thing done 
 by a Presbyterian, or by a Presbyterian bod}', 
 he would say, " well, Presbyterian fools are the 
 biggest fools in the world.' 7 All such pithy ex- 
 pressions would come from him with such an 
 unction that no one was offended, their keen- 
 ness being all covered over with pleasantry. 
 
 I will give now only one of many evidences of 
 the high esteem in which Dr. Cleland was held by 
 those who knew him best. Before we parted 
 last, near Baltimore, he told me he was going 
 
APPENDIX. L91 
 
 to Saratoga, at the request of Ohancelor Wal- 
 worth and his lady, to administer, in their 
 family, the ordinance of baptism* I learned 
 from him, that there were many links in that 
 long and unbroken chain of attachment. When 
 Mrs. W. was an infant, he had baptized her. 
 She united with the church under his minis- 
 try. Her first husband was the gallant Col. 
 Hardin, who fell in the Mexican war. In her 
 first and second marriage Dr. C. was the offici- 
 ating clergyman. And now he goes all the way 
 to Saratoga, at the request of the parents, to 
 administer the ordinance of baptism, and to re- 
 ceive into the visible family of the Savior one 
 of the dear pledges of their love. 
 
 Few ministers have traveled further to solem- 
 nize the rites of matrimony,* administer the 
 ordinance of baptism, and preach funeral ser- 
 mons, than he. This shows the strong hold he 
 had on the confidence and affections of his 
 friends, alike creditable to him and them. 
 
 Such a man is not ashamed to live, nor afraid 
 to die. The last letter I received from him was 
 dated April 6, 1857, a few months before his 
 death, and twenty-three years to a day, since he 
 
 * Dr. C. kept an accurate list of all the marriages ever 
 solemnized by him — in all, 712: together with the amount of 
 fees paid by each. "Total, $2,875 50." Every present that 
 he ever received, even down to the widow's mite, is here faith- 
 fully recorded, and was gratefully remembeied. — [V.V/.v 
 
192 APPENDIX. 
 
 delivered the address on baptism, to which I 
 have referred at some length. In the latter 
 part of this letter, after saying, "Our little Sy- 
 nod is weak, and can scarcely stand, etc.," he 
 closes in these words, " I wish you and some 
 former brethren were back again in Old Ken- 
 tuck, if it suited. What will become of us, the 
 good Lord only knows. I have not long to stay, 
 and I feel my latter end approaching. All is well" 
 I have now given you some "facts and im- 
 pressions " of your father. I have guarded 
 against fulsome, unmeaning eulogy. In speak- 
 ing of his intellectual endowments, his claims 
 to the possession of talents of a high order, I 
 might, consistently, have used stronger expres- 
 sions. But, in speaking of him, I would not 
 indulge in gross adulation or unqualified pane- 
 gyric ; if, for no other reason, because, if living, 
 it would be offensive to him. In what I have 
 said of him, no one, who knew him, will say 
 that I am extravagant in my estimate of his 
 abilities or excellence. He sighed not for dis- 
 tinction, he cared not for popular applause ; 
 and, I have no doubt, you will find from the 
 scanty materials he has' left his biographer, 
 that he was unusually indifferent to posthu- 
 mous fame. He had all the elements of great- 
 ness, but he was destitute of the ambition to be 
 great. 
 
APPENDIX. 193 
 
 But his work is done, and he has gone to his 
 reward. The place where were laid the re- 
 mains of Dr. Clehmd will long be a place dear 
 to many a pilgrim ; and his grave will long be 
 covered with garlands of Christian affection. 
 Yours, etc, 
 
 H. WOODS. 
 
 [The following letter is from Rev. James 
 Barnes, D. D., Clinton county, Mo. Dr. Barnes 
 was one of the first students of Theology un- 
 der Dr. Cleland, and for many years they were 
 co-laborers in the same vineyard of the Lord.] 
 
 My Dear Brother: Be assured that it will 
 afford me great pleasure to be able to furnish 
 some facts connected with the life and labors of 
 your beloved and venerated father, now an 
 heir of glory. Whatever I may be able to 
 call to mind respecting him, I shall record it as 
 an expression of grateful remembrance to one 
 to whom I am deeply indebted for what I am, 
 as a Christian (though less than the least of 
 all), and as a minister of the everlasting gospel. 
 
 My first acquaintance with my beloved fa- 
 ther in the Lord, was in the early part of the 
 year 1807. I was then a youth of about seven- 
 teen years. The first time I ever heard the 
 delightful sound of the gospel was from his 
 lip3, about the period above mentioned. He 
 1* 
 
194 APPENDIX. 
 
 preached at that time once a month in Spring- 
 field, where I resided, though not regularly, 
 as his labors were at times in very great demand. 
 He was the most acceptable preacher then in 
 Kentucky. His labors were wonderfully bless- 
 ed in the conversion of souls. In the month of 
 June, 1809, I was received by him into the 
 communion of the Church. From that time 
 until he removed into Mercer county (1813) he 
 was my pastor, my adviser and kind friend. 
 During the year 1815, 1 lived in his family, and 
 was treated as his son ; enjoyed his excellent 
 ministrations, and commenced the study of 
 Theology. It was by his kind exertions that 
 I was enabled to spend the two following years 
 at Princeton Theological Seminary. After my 
 return to Kentucky, by his fatherly advice, I 
 was induced to take the pastoral oversight of 
 the united congregations of Lancaster and 
 Paint Lick, in the fall of 1818. In the fall of 
 1819 I was ordained, and installed pastor over 
 said churches, on which occasion your father 
 presided. During these eighteen years I occa- 
 sionally enjoyed the privilege of being assisted 
 by him on sacramental occasions. It was un- 
 der his faithful administrations, together with 
 Brother S. K. Sweecl, that a most precious re- 
 vival* commenced in Paint Lick church, in the 
 summer of 1826, which continued for two years, 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 and which resulted in the conversion of many 
 precious souls to God. His preaching was 
 plain, scriptural, evangelical, spiritual and prac- 
 tical. His sermons were always filled with 
 Scripture quotations, and he was always par- 
 ticular in giving both chapter and verse. He 
 knew the Scriptures almost by heart. He 
 was a living concordance. " He was mighty in 
 the Scriptures." He possessed the wonderful 
 power of condensing a whole body of divinity 
 in a single discourse. Xor did he present be- 
 fore the people the dead dry bones of a hide- 
 ous skeleton, but clothed with flesh, beautiful 
 for its compactness and symmetry, and animated 
 with joyous life. He sometimes used brief 
 selections, but never heard him read a sermon. 
 I never heard a man who had a more complete 
 control over the feelings of his audience, and 
 that without any special effort to awaken their 
 sympathies. For many years I never sat un- 
 der one of his excellent sermons without being 
 deeply affected myself, and witnessing a little 
 effect upon the whole congregation. He never 
 daubed the unbeliever with untempered mor- 
 tar ; but was a son of thunder to the guilty, 
 and of consolation to the feeble-minded. His 
 preaching was instructive to the ignorant; en- 
 couraging to the timid, and edifying to the be- 
 liever. 
 
196 APPENDIX. 
 
 As a pastor, as far as domestic duties and 
 missionary calls would allow, he was faithful 
 to those under his immediate charge. Much of 
 Dr. Cleland's ministerial life was spent in ardu- 
 ous labors out of the bounds of his own con- 
 gregation. 
 
 At that time there were but few faithful min- 
 isters of the Word, and calls for good faithful 
 preachers were both numerous and urgent. 
 Soon ofter he entered the ministry, the Pela- 
 gian, Arian, Socinian and Shaker heresies and 
 defections threatened the overthrow of the 
 churches in Kentucky. These soul-destroying 
 heresies and apostacies threw a great deal of 
 missionary labor into the hands of this faithful 
 servant of Christ. Many churches in this State 
 were torn into fragments. Those who stood 
 firmly by the faith of their fathers called loudly 
 and earnestly for help. None were more ready 
 to listen to these calls than Dr. Cleland; and 
 none rendered more efficient service in helping 
 to roll back this desolating tide than he. 
 
 About this time the Cumberland Presbyte- 
 rians broke off from our denomination. Their 
 desertion from our ranks made a wide-spread 
 destitution of our ministrations in southwest- 
 ern Kentucky, which still further increased 
 the demand for missionary labor. Mr. Cleland 
 went often to that region of the country on 
 
APPENDIX. 191 
 
 missionary tours. These missionary labors 
 were discharged without the prospect of pecu- 
 niary remuneration ; while, at the same time, 
 subjecting the faithful missionary to severe pri- 
 vations and hardships. 
 
 Reversing a little the order suggested in your 
 letter, I proceed to state a few particulars with 
 reference to our dear father as a man and a 
 Christian. We may say of him what was said 
 of Barnabas ; " He was a good man, full of the 
 Holy Ghost and of faith, and much people 
 were added to the Lord." Although his liter- 
 ary advantages were limited ; yet, all things 
 considered, he was evidently a man of more 
 than ordinary abilities. He possessed a discrim- 
 inating mind, a clear and quick understanding, 
 sound and solid judgment, a retentive memory 
 and a lively imagination. He possessed cheer- 
 fulness without levity, sobriety without morose- 
 ness, firmness without stubbornness, and dig- 
 nity without haughtiness. 
 
 As a man of business he was prompt, active, 
 conscientious ; and, above all men I ever knew, 
 prudent. Prudence, he always taught his stu- 
 dents, next to piety, was one of the cardinal 
 virtues essential to a usefulness in the minister. 
 He kept every thing in perfect order about him. 
 He could rise at the hour of midnight, and 
 without a light, lay his hand on any book in 
 
198 APPENDIX. 
 
 the library. He had a place for every thing, 
 and every thing in its place. 
 
 The social qualities of our kind father were 
 such as to warmly attach to him a large circle 
 of devoted friends, both aged and young, rich 
 and poor, bond and free. And no one, who 
 has even for a short time been an inmate of 
 his kind family, but was impressed with the 
 belief that real hospitality and the law of kind- 
 ness reigned there. His ministerial brethren 
 always esteemed it a delightful privilege to en- 
 joy his society, which was always both animat- 
 ing and instructive. 
 
 But, before I close this communication, I feel 
 it a privilege to pay an unfeigned tribute of 
 justly merited respect to the memory of her 
 who was the partner of his joys and sorrows 
 for more than half a century. Daring the year 
 that I was an inmate of Dr. Cleland's house, 
 and during the period of forty years in which 
 I occasionally visited the house, if that most 
 excellent mother in Israel was ever out of tem- 
 per, or in a passion, I never discovered it, 
 either in her looks, words, or actions. She was 
 always the same peaceful, amiable, and affec- 
 tionate wife, the same warm-hearted friend, the 
 same active, self-denying and devout Christian. 
 I can truly say, that among all the clergy- 
 men's families I have known in the last fifty 
 
APPENDIX. 199 
 
 years, I have never become acquainted, with 
 one who was better suited to the station 
 she occupied than mother Cleland. Ad i 
 lent help-meet to her husband; a blessing to 
 her family and neighborhood, and an ornament 
 to the church of God. Few ministers and 
 their wives have lived so long in the blessed 
 service of their Lord, and have sustained a more 
 exalted Christian character than Dr. Cleland 
 and his most excellent wife. 
 
 They are now, we do most firmly believe, 
 justified spirits made perfect, reunited in the 
 blissful presence of our adored Redeemer, in 
 his high and holy service in glory forever. 
 Yours in Christ Jesus our Lord, 
 
 JAMES BARKES. 
 
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