;>' *»Ml^ Columbia 5Bnt»er^ttp THE LIBRARIES Bequest of Frederic Bancroft 1860-1945 MEMORANDA OF THE IXPEEIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS OF A UMVERSALIST PREACHER, WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. wte^or CINCINNATI: JOHN A, GURLEY, PUBLISHER, 1845. c^' Eatered according to an act of Congress, in the year 1845, BY JOHN A. GURLEY, in tbe Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, in and for the District of Ohio. 1^1 9xr CD °^ PREFACE When a man takes it upon himself to write his own history, he is, we may suppose, either moved thereto by a propensity to egotism, or he is persuaded that he is fulfill- ing a duty to the public, by presenting a record of instruc- live facts; or facts, at least, which he judges will profitably engage the attention of the reader. With the former of these motives, the author feels that he is liable to be charged; with what truth God only knows, for he confesses that he himself does not; in his own partial judgment, however, he stands acquitted of it altogether, and his sole inducement seems to be the latter named one. He puts forth these memoranda now, because he thinks the most eventful period of his life is past. His memory freshly retains the incidents of that period; many are living who can attest their verity if it should be doubted; and more- over he judges that the matters of his history will interest the present generation in a manner that they cannot the generations to come. Of course the author will be readily pardoned — perhaps thanked, to boot — for not having furnished a full and cir- cumstantial autobiography. For what is he, that the public should care to know where he was born, or when, or who were his ancestors, or how he behaved himself in the nursery, and so on? There are individuals in regard to whom even such particulars are interesting, but the author is far from deeming himself one of these. In short, the biography of an eminent personage, however common-place may be its details, is interesting because of the individual. On the contrary, what is related of a common person, if it prove interesting at all, is so only on its own account. The reader will please to include the 4 PREFACE. following narrative within the latter category, and he will be thereby saved the trouble of inquiring : " Why has this gentleman judged himself of such im- portance as to have given us his history, whilst many amongst us, greatly his superiors, and who have rendered far greater service to the cause of truth, are passing away without leaving any record of themselves behind?" Such inquiries it is hoped, will be superceded, or at least, satisfactorily answered, by what is above written — and if so, the author's main purpose in this preface will have been accomplished. The Authoe- Cincinnati, Ohio, 1846. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. The Author's early Religious Experience — Begins soon to ex- ercise himself in Public — Undertakes a Journey to the West — Returns, and sojourns in Bristol, Pennsylvania — Some ad- entures there with his friend Ben. 9 CHAPTER II. Is prone to the sin of Poetry-making — More about Ben — Re- ligious Swoonings — Eccentricities of Father S. — Devotes himself permanently to the Ministerial profession. - - H^* CHAPTER III. Takes the charge of a little Society at Trenton, N. J. — Is somewhat annoyed by Ranters — Begins to Itinerate — His ignorance on practical subjects — Is a Latitudinarian in Ec- clesiastical aflairs — Visits North-eastern Pennsylvania, and describes the Beech woods there — Portrays a class of Rant- ing Itinerants — Re-visits the Beech woods — Some difficul- ties from getting lost there. -3(7 CHAPTER IV. Becomes the Pastor of a Society in Philadelphia — Something of Female Preachers — Divine Calls — Secret Prayers in public places, etc. — Adopts free opinions in Religion, and makes a third visit to the woods /)9 CHAPTER V. Review — Avows the Universalist Faith — Sermon on the Rich Man and Lazarus — Poetises again — Is convinced of the pro- priety of connecting himself with the Universalist body — Settles with a Society at Brooklyn, Pennsylvania — Some- thing of the practical tendencies of Universalism. - - 78 CHAPTER VI. Two night adventures in the woods — Wide extent of his cir- cuit of Ministerial Labors — Tour to Dover Plains, N. Y.; and Danbury, Conn. — Praying and unprayingmen compared — Coincidences which seemed Providential — Rambles and adventures in Bradford county — Peculiar Character of the " CONTENTS. opposition to Universalism — Several incidents thereof related — An amusing affair at Cudderbackville — Affair at a Camp- meeting — A controversial tilt or two — Affair at an Inquiry meeting, with an exposition of Acts x. — Affair with a ter- magant. - - - - 95 CHAPTER VII. Comprising the events of a first journey to the West : to Pitts- burg, Cincinnati, etc. ; and a journey to the last Association previous to his removal from Pennsylvania. - - - t4!{ CHAPTER VIII. A second journey to the West — Visits the Southern portion of New Jersey — Settles with the Cincinnati Society — Organ- izes a Society at Patriot, Indiana — connects himself with the "Sentinel and Star in the West" — Travels in behalf of that paper — Sees some dark days about that time. - - - 16^ CHAPTER IX. flis prospects begin to brighten — Visits Yankee Town, has a narrow escape from death there — Sets out on a journey in Kentucky, Tennessee, Mississippi, and Alabama. - - Ib9 CHAPTER X. Commences writing and publishing the Pro and Coji of Uni- versalism — Visits the Wiiite Oak region in Highland county, Ohio, and the Wabash region in Indiana. . - - - 225 CHAPTER XI. Visits New Orleans, and other portions of Louisiana — Re- visits Pittsburg — Priestly sway in that quarter — Travels in Northern Ohio — Universalism in death 241 CHAPTER XII. Visits Vicksburg, and other parts of Mississippi — Travels ex- tensively in Louisiana — Re-visits New Orleans — Also, Mo- bile, and various parts of Alabama. OtS CHAPTER XIII. Reviews Mr.Raper against Universalism— Holds a public discus- sionwith Mr. Lucas, at Wilmington, O. — Has a Theological passage of arms with a Methodist preacher at Waynesville, O. Some risks and hardships from high water in the Muskingum Valley — How shall the drunkard be disposed of after death? '290 CHAPTER XIV. Extensive journeyings in Kentucky, and Middle and Western Tennessee. ..----.-.- 300 CONTENTS. 7 CHAPTER XV. .Tourneys with his family through Ohio, and a large portion of N.York and Pennsylvania — Visits several portions of New England — Various travels about the Hudson river, and the regions about New York, Philadelphia, and Baltimore — Re- turns to Cincinnati, by a long and devious land journey, flfter an absence of a year. ------ 32J> CHAPTER XVI. Re-visits Louisiana once more, and diverges to St. Louis in his way — Reflections on Slavery, and a scheme of Progressive Emancipation— Attends the Indiana State Convention— Com- piles a Hymn Book for denominational use in public worship. 34r» CHAPTER XVII. Vi.sits Wheeling, Virginia, and Pittsburg, Pennsylvania — Hasn discussion of three days duration in the latter city — Pene- trates into several hitherto unvisited parts of Ohio — Attends the meeting of the United States Convention at Akron, Ohio and returns with his family, by way of Columbus - - .'JGI CHAPTER XVIII. V^isits St. Louis, Troy, Missouri; Alton, Illinois; Robertson county, Nashville, Memphis, Tennessee; also Vicksburg, .fackson, and Brandon, Mississippi 369 CHAPTER XIX. Vanous journeyings in Northwestern Pennsylvania.Western N. York, Upper Canada, Michigan, Indiana', and Illinois. - .38:1 CHAPTER XX, The state of Universalism in the West, at the time of the Au- thor's first acquaintance with it; its present condition and prospects — Reflections on the style of preaching best adapt- ed for permanent usefulness; and, on the peculiar mission of Universalism to mankiud. -„-.... 39;; MEMORANDA UNIVEESALIST PREAOHEE. CHAPTER I. The Author's early Religious experience — Begins soon to exercise himself in Public — Undertakes a Journey to the West — Returns and sojourns in Bristol, Pensylvania — Some adventures there with his friend Ben. My public career may, in some sort, be said to have commenced as soon as I became a professor of religion, which was in my seventeenth year; I was then a resident of Philadelphia, of which beautiful city I can hardly divest myself of the impression that I am a native, from my hav- ing resided in it since so early an age. My mother church was the Episcopalian; in her creed and ritual I was very strictly educated; in the baptism she ministered to me "I was made — so she taught me to profess — a member of Christ, a child of God, and an inheritor of the kingdom of heaven;" for which important favor, if but the half of it be true, God only knows how large are my obligations to her. In my thirteenth year, after being duly cate- chised for the occasion, I was confirmed; what that meant I knew not; the tradition about it among us juveniles was, that from thenceforward the responsibility of our guilt was shifted from the shoulders of our god-fathers and god- mothers to our own; I felt, for my part, no particular thankfulness for the transfer. It may be, that the major- ity of the subjects of confirmation in that church under- stand the purpose of the rite about as well as we did. My religious experience, when I came to have any, was not according to what was then inculcated by my mother church, though she now enjoins the same, especi- ally that branch of her which is termed the low, or evan- gelical party, and which corresponds to what is termed the new school in the Presbyterian denomination. Mixing 2 10 EXPEEIENCE, LABORS, A2iD TRAVELS much with the Methodists, and other puritanic classes, I had imbibed the notion that religion is the result of a direct energy from heaven on the heart; hence the sub- ject was shrouded in a vague and dream-like obscurity; I looked for dreams, and supernatural appearances, and as others commonly professed to have experienced things of the kind, I was often tempted to be angry because the Lord did not vouchsafe the same favors to me. Yet I must own that I experienced nothing in harmony with those fancies; there was a perfect naturalness, and simplicity, in the manner of my becoming a subject of religion; no lightnings flashed, no thunders rolled, no pulpit declamation disturbed the sleep of my conscience; 1 was alone with an aged relative — my mother's mother — she was about to leave me and go to reside in Charleston, South Carolina, and she was condoling with me on the utter loneliness in which I should be left at her departure — an orphan, and only child — without relative of any sort to go to — isolated, as it were, from the rest of humanity. The kind old lady was moved almost to speechlessness. *' But never mind, my dear," she concluded with affected cheerfulness, " you have God for a father, after all, and you will need no other friend — will you?" I answered not a word — how could I? My heart was full, and ached to relieve itself of its overflowing emotion; like Joseph, when so moved by his brother Judah's pathetic appeal, I wanted a secret place to weep in. I had often heard, before, that God was my father; it was a trite truth, but I had never felt that truth before. For many days and nights after that I experienced a sort of bliss in weeping; a sense of my heavenly Father's love, and of my own ingratitude, so dissolved my heart in tenderness, that I supposed it never would be susceptible to any other emo- tion, and when for the first time I bowed my knees in secret, and felt that my soul was communing with its invi- sible but everywhere present Father, I am persuaded that I experienced a portion of the bliss which spirits feel at God's right hand. Still I judged not myself to have experienced conversion, for, according to the technical signification of that term, ajTiong the Methodists, conversion is the second of several mystical degrees, which have at different times to be taJien, in order to the completion of the christian charac- ter : conviction, conversion, sanctification, and perfection, OF A TJNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 11 are, in their view, so many steps in the ladder of ascen- sion to heaven, and yet, from the second of these rounds the subject can step into paradise without troubling himself to climb the remaining two! I, for my part, had been favored with no preternatural visitations — I had undergone no swoonings ; nor had I heard any voice whispering in my ear that my sins were for- given. I therefore judged not myself to have been con- verted. And great was my grief and mortification on that account, especially as I was in the habit of witness- ing the process in others on almost every Sunday even- ing, at which times — as the preachers said — " the Lord was on the giving hand," which I took to mean that he was in a more liberal fit than usual; in this interpreta- tion, however, I may have done ihem injustice, as I never to this day, have inquired the particular meaning of the phrase, or whether it has any. Howbeit many of the converts got through the operation in a marvelously short time, whilst I prayed, and prayed, earnestly and long, to no effect save that of expending my religious fervor and hardening my heart. Alas! my efforts to get at the bot- tom of this mysterious business were similar in result to that of which the poet Cowper speaks, of — " dropping buckets into empty wells, And growing old in drawing nothing up." I continued, nevertheless, to love and reverence God as my Father, and to serve him according to my crude conceptions of the service he required, I had happiness, tx)0, in those days — unutterable happiness; more intense, certainly more ecstatic, than I have ever enjoyed since, though, I must own, less uniform, and subject to far more serious drawbacks, than is the religious enjoyment of my later years. " If ignorance is bliss," saith a poet, " 'tis folly to be wise." However that be, (and I confess it hard to dispute the deduction,) it is nevertheless true that deluded fanatics in religion commonly exhibit a more rapturous state of feeling than belongs to the more sober and enlightened christian; but, then, the latter is not as often, nor as deeply, depressed as they — he is not panic- stricken with their alarms — a comet affrights him not — the thunder to him is not the voice of God's wrath, nor do meteors, to his disturbed fancy, bode the ruin of the world; from bug-bears of this sort the truth has made 12 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS him free. My spiritual horizon remained but for a little while unclouded; a friend of mine, whom I had not known to be a Deist, put the Age of Reason, D'Holbach's System of Nature, and other similar works into my hands, the reading of which made me wretched beyond description. Oh, how dark to me — how drear were a few weeks following my perusal of those books! I was DOW a friendless orphan once more; from heaven's throne bent over me no Father's watchful love; secret prayer had lost its object; my meditations went not rapturously up|to a world of bliss as before; my only prospect, alas! was through a vista of sorrow-beclouded years in this cold world, to a grave, from which was to be no resurrection. In this state of mind I first read the Night Thoughts, and Chalmei*s' Astronomical Discourses, with a zest which words would feebly describe. I also read Paley's Evidences, and his Horae Paulinse, which, with seve- ral other works in defense of divine revelation, com- pletely re-established my faith in the Christian religion. No language would adequately represent my bliss, when returning from an unusually interesting meeting, one Sabbath afternoon, I renewed, in the secrecy of my chamber, my spiritual intercourse with my Father in heaven. Let it not excite the reader's scorn, when I tell him, that the meeting referred to was an African one, and the preacher as illiterate as negro preachers usually are, for so much the more did the simplicity and eloquence of sentiment which marked the sermon affect me — it seemed the very inspiration of truth. And as I looked over the large congregation, and observed the rapt delight which beamed in almost every countenance, I was forced to own that the religion which could thus sway and felicitate that mass of individuals, who otherwise might be spending the day in crime, or hurtful dissipation, would be degraded by a comparison with the cold and barren abstractions of infidel philosophy. I think so still. Since that period, thank God! no doubt has ever, but very passingly, clouded the heaven of my faith. A lad named William Taylor, and I, used to go out amongst the brick-yards in the suburbs very early on Sabbath mornings, to sing and pray together, where none could see or hear us, but He to whom our devotions were addressed. We continued this practice for a year pv two, whenever the weather would admit of it ; we OF A TJNIVEESALIST PREACHER. 13 also used to take books with us to read, of a character to fan and feed the devotional flame. Such as Bax- ter's Saints' Rest, Rowe's Devout Exercises, Kempis^ Imitation of Christ, St. Augustine's Meditations, etc., thence, our custom was, to return in time for public wor- ship to the old Academy, on Fourth street; the Southern wing of which was used by the Methodists as a place of religious meeting. Thomas Burch was then the preacher there. I used to like him much; he was more meta- physical, and less vociferous, than were the most of Methodist preachers at that day, and,, moreover, he sat his face against the irregularities by which the worship of that people is apt to be disturbed. From my recollec- tions of him, I believe Mr. Burch to have been a man of sincere piety and an excellent spirit. Doctor Sargeant, also, used occasionally to occupy the desk at the Academy; his stand against fanaticism was firm and uncompromising. I remember, that once, when a preacher named Cox, had in the forenoon sermon vindicated the duty of always speaking of religion whenever it was practicable — never letting an occasion pass without introducing it as a main topic, etc.. Doctor S., in the evening, advised against such a course, pronouncing it to be fulsome in itself, and annoying to others. " Many people's religion," said he, " evaporates in words, when actions would be far more to the purpose." He was not far wrong there, I think. But no preacher holds so pleasant a place in my remembrance of those times, as John Summerfield. I heard him shortly after his arrival from England, and, at intervals, till near the time of his death. His appear- ance was very youthful, very meek, indicating no con- sciousness of his being an object of the public idola'.ry. His eye was large, and had the brilliance, and his countenance altogether the sort of unearthly beauty, which subjects of pulmonary consumption are apt to exhibit. His voice was winning, mild, and musical — his language simple, unambitious, and easy in its flow — his action unstudied, seldom employed, yet when it was so, it was grace itself. Mr. Summerfield was apt to be thrillingly affective in some of his passages, by reason of some uncommon beauty, or sublimity of thought, which seemed the spontaneous product of the theme, or of the occasion. There were other and rival lights in the firmament of Methodism in his day, but I doubt whether 14 EXPERIENCE, LABOKS, AND TRAVELS before or since, any ever shone with so steady and placid a brilliance. It was not long ere I begun to exercise myself in publitj in two different ways; one was by yisiting the city alnis- house on Sunday afternoons, for purposes of exhortation and prayer. In this business I was joined by several lads of about my own age. We commenced on the rule of visiting the men's wards on one Sabbath, and the women's on another, alternately; but we soon found reason for departing from this ai-rangement, and giving our attention exclusively to the men, for they, we found, were almost wholly neglected, while the women's apartments were literally overrun; and that, too, by successive troops of men, and boys of different ages. Although at all times very dull of perception in most things, I yet was soon sensible to the indelicacy of a practice of that sort, and I now look back on it with feelings of decided revulsion. A young female once beckoned us to her bedside, and begun complaining to us in moving accents of the harsh treatment to which she was sometimes subjected; in our simplicity we were lending a pitying ear to her tale, when she sprung from her bed, en chemise, and, pulling a strait jacket from under its foot, was proceeding to show us in what way they confined her in it Avhen her mad fits came on! A general but half-suppressed giggle from the vari- ous beds, made us sensible of the ludicrousness of our situation; we were not long in making our escape from the room; how sheepishly, is left for the] reader's imagin- ation. This incident (only one of many which we wit- nessed) determined us to refrain entirely from visiting the female wards. Only a Sabbath previous we ha3 figured in a still worse scene: a female (from what motive God only knows) gave us the number of a certain room, with a particular request that we should visit it; we did so; we looked at each other in mute astonishment at the bold-faced character of the inm.ates, and the little concern they gave themselves at the various states of nudity m which we found them. A Methodist-looking man was on his knees at prayer by one of the beds, but no one seemed in the lea.st to be heeding his petition; we knelt until he had closed, and, on rising, one of us had missed his hand- kerchief and another his hymn-book I It may easily be guessed into what company we had stumbled. We were glad to escape without making any noise about our losses* OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 15 Saying nothing of the indelicacy of such intrusions into the sick chamber of females, what shall be said of the annoyance, on their part, of having squads of grown and half-grown saints trooping through their apartments, and vociferating their crude notions of religion, as if the circumstance of their being more favored in point of health or worldly condition, gave them a title to be wiser than those who were less so? It were pity, indeed, if pious females were wanting in sufficient number, to min- ister to their own sex in their sickness and poverty, that the office must be left to the less delicate administration of men and boys; but truth is, that men, with less piety and purity of heart than women, in general, assume to be exclusively privileged in the matter of imparting sacred instruction, except in the nursery, and other equally obscure departments. Another way in which I publicly exercised myself, was by taking part in the debates of the Berean Society, which was composed principally of Universalists, and held its meetings on Tuesday and Friday evenings of every week, in the Northern Liberties and the Southwark Commissioners' Halls. It is probable that no one individ- ual, of the orthodox faith, participated for so long a time in these discussions as I did, and for the reason, probably, that I had less sense than others to perceive that the Universalists gained on the public attention and confi- dence in proportion as they were opposed. In the infan- cy of the institution these debates were conducted with great zeal and animation; men of learning and eminence in orthodox churches engaged in them, but these, one after another, withdrew, and left the business of battling with heresy to ignorant men and boys. My own opposi- tion to Universalism was very sincere. I viewed it as a most dangerous delusion. I had more than once heard m.y tutor in Latin (a Presbyterian clergyman) for whom I had great respect, say, that without the possibility of doubt, both the preachers and hearers of that faith would be eternally damned. This was sufficiently high author- ity for me. Nevertheless, though sincere, my opposition was characterised by a calmness of manner, and a readi- ness of concession, where candor required it, which led my opponents to predict, and my friends to fear, that I was in the end to become an advocate of the faith I was laboring to destroy — a thing, God knows, which was far 16 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS enough from my purpose at the time. Several of my friends remonstrated with me on the danger I incurred in attending those meetings, and some of them, privately, made such representations to my grandmother (the aged relative aforementioned — she had returned from Carolina) as induced her to beseech me, with tears, to refrain from attending the Berean debates. I ought, perhaps, to have obeyed her, but, in truth, the poor old lady knew abso- lutely nothing about the matter. She had been told thai Universalists denied God, and Christ, and heaven, and all things sacred, and held to people's robbing, swearing, murdering, etc., by natural right. As a thing of course, 1 felt the more determined to continue acting my part in these meetings from the fact of my doing so being op- posed on so unreasonable grounds : and, moreover, how large an interest my vanity may have felt in the matter, the Lord, who knoweth all things, only knoweth; for l got far more credit for ability in those debates than I was fairly entitled to; my appearance was extremely youthful; I looked, by several years, younger than I really^was; this led to an exaggeration, on the part of the hearers, of the very trifling degree of talent my arguments exhibitedj One evening, having made the concluding argument, I was surrounded by several of the members, when the meeting broke up, who were anxious to correct the mis- takes they said I had committed. Seeing me thus beset, the celebrated Abner Kneeland approached us, and, laying his hand caressingly on my head, remarked, " Let the lad alone, he did the best he could, and will make a good Universalist preacher one of these days." Some few of the members, however, judged it a derogation from the dignity of the meetings to allow the privilege of the floor to so juvenile an opponent; among these was a Mr. P., a glazier, an uncommonly shrewd and talkative old man, and the nearest approximation to absolute rotundity of person, of which I can conceive the human animal capa- ble ; he was familiarly known to many by the soubriquet of Old Putty. This old man stoutly opposed my being allowed to participate in the discussions, and laid much stress on the circumstance that my beard had not yet begun to show itself. After several had advocated my right to be heard in defence, I had the good fortune to turn the laugh of the house on Old Putty, by retorting, that if he succeeded in voting me down on the score of a OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 17 want of beard, I should depute a he-goat to conduct the argument against him in future. This jeu d'^esprit com- pletely turned the scale in my favor.* My own decided opinion is, that I was not qualified to debate in those meetings, neither in point of information nor ability, but I then had a less just notion of myself, and, truth to say, we usually know less, in proportion as we learn more ; nearly a score of years have since elaps- ed, during the most of which I have been a tolerably diligent student, but I am now infinitely less of a master- of-all-knowledge than I then supposed myself. Conformably to a recommendation very common with the christians amongst whom I moved, I used frequently to read the Bible on my knees ; my ostensible object was truth; but, in reality, I sought it for arguments in support of my creed ; and when I lighted on a text which seemed to favor it, how devoutly did I use to thank God for such a help against the heretics of the Berean Society ! " O thou, who seest in secret!" is not the truth often thus sought for, and are not thine oracles too often thus read? Yet would I not presumptuously arraign the sincerity of any in this matter, for not only should I fall myself into the same condemnation, but I know, also, that the mind la easily led to deceive itself under pious pretexts, and in favor of its long-standing prepossessions. That truth should be sought in a devout and humble spirit, and that the Bible, in the true spirit of it, may be thus, and only thus understood, I with all my soul believe; but that a devout and humble spirit is more likely to be possessed on one's knees than in any other attitude, is, to me, far from self-evident. It was by slow degrees, and without human authority, that I assumed the profession of a minister of the gospel : my first sermon was preached in the village of Attleboro, Bucks County, Pa., from the text, " Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God" — which, to the present day, is a very favorite text with me, and a text to the truth of which I most devoutly subscribe. I was then but a little over twenty years old. Shortly afterwards I *A Mr. Elwell, of Springboro, Ohio, but formerly of Philadel- phia, and a prominent member of the Berean Society, recently refreshed my memory as to the first of these incidents. For the latter I am indebted to a Mr. Nelson, also formerly of that city, but now living near Millersburgh, Kentucky. 18 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS undertook a journey on foot to the western country, m company with two young Kentuckians, whose glowing descriptions of the beauty of that region stimulated me to the boyish adventure; I proved, however, quite unequal to the fatigues of it, for by the time of our arrival at Green Village, (145 miles from Philadelphia) I was taken ill of a billions intermittant fever, and my companions were compelled to proceed without me. My illness con- tinued, in a greater orl ess degree, for nearly six months, during which time I wandered from place to place accord- ing as my feeble strength and scanty means permitted. For the first three weeks I tarried with a Methodist fam- ily in Green Village; they prayed night and morning, and said grace before and after meat with great strictness; tliey also held prayer-meetings in their house. As I, in those days, took my estimate of people's piety from such things, I judged them to be exceedingly good christians, and felt happy to have fallen into such quarters, although their style of living was coarse in the extreme, and I was charged for it at tavern rates; no matter, where so much piety was, nothing wrong could be, thought simple I. When, however, they found my funds to have got low, and, consequently, that the prospect was faint for a pecu- niary recompence for such trouble as they might be at on my account, they considerately advised me to go farther — a change of air might do me good; yet they were quite doubtful if ,1 should not die somewhere on the road, and therefore, this hospitable and pious family would willingly have stript me of such trifling valuables as I possessed, under the pretext of wanting something to remember me by: "it was better," they said, '• that my friends should have these things, than that they should fall into the hands of strangers^ For the credit of humanity I mu^ record, that during the whole term of my sickness and wanderings, I met with no such instances of cold and heartless selfishness as was exhibited by this family ; on the contrary, I was everywhere sympathised with, and ministered to, with a kindness which never waited for solicitation, nor asked for other proof of my need than my pale face and attenuated figure exhibited. The reader must not, from this account, infer anything to the dis- credit of Methodists generally ; they are, as the poet Savage says of priests, "like other men; some bad, some good :" had I fallen into the hands of another Methodist OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 19 family, the next day, their conduct might have been the exact reverse of that here recorded. 1 have a thousand times learned that denominational titles are not the cer- tain indications of qualities, either good or badj and that of even the worst parties, it holds true, equally as of individuals, that " none are all evil." On the second night after my departure from Green Village, a young man found me lying in a woods near Ghambersburg, incapable of rising without assistance. With much importunity he gained my consent to his carrying me home to his father's house ; when arrived there, 1 found six members of the family down with the same disease as my own — for, as 1 afterwards learned, it prevailed throughout that whole region at that time — nevertheless, for nearly a month 1 was ministered to in the kindest manner, and with unwearying cheerfulness, during which time they neither inquired my name, country, business, nor creed, and refused, at the end, to listen to any promise of a future compensation. Does the reader wish to know what was their religion? I must inform him, then, that they belonged to that extensive cJass which religionists contemptuously style, "the world's people;" nevertheless, they were good Samaritans to me. On the day that I lay in the woods where the young man found me, I once, impelled by a burning thrist, made my way to a cabin within sight to get some water; finding nobody within, I betook myself to the pump which stood in the yard, but its handle being some five feet long, of solid iron, and a large nob at the end, of the same metal, after the old Dutch fashion, I could not work it in my feeble state, and was fain to go on my knees and drink out of a trough which stood under the spout, in which a hog or two were at the same time sporting their snouts. While thus employed, the woman who tenanted the cabin returned, and of her I obtained a drink. She was of an unusually robust figure, with a blooming countenance, and might have sat to a painter for an impersonation of health. She expressed great sympathy for me; said she could hardly endure to see me tottering from her humble cottage without offering me its shelter, " for you look," said she, " as though you could not survive the night, without the best of care. But," she added, " my husband is from home, and I cannot, therefore, invite you to be my guest." Well, after being for nearly a month wiih 20 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS my hospitable friends, " the world's people," and nearly the whole time delirious, I was telling them of my inter- view with this woman, and remarking on her uncommonly healthful appearance. *' She is dead and buried ! " ex- claimed several of them, at once. Yes, within two weeks after I saw her, that blooming woman was in her grave, and the then pale and tottering wanderer, who, as she thought, could hardly live to see the morrow, yet lives to record the fact after a lapse of over twenty years. Supposing myself sufficiently recovered, I left my kind entertainers, and proceeded to Chambersburg, (only four miles off,) where I lingered for several days — for I was yet far from well — and supported myself by selling my watch at less than a fourth of its value; being still delirious, I labored under the impression that they would drive me out of the place if they knew me to be sick, I therefore constrained myself to wear as cheerful a face as possible, and as I needed to lay down for the most of the day, I found an angle at the back end of the Court- house, where I could do so unobserved, and be screened from the sun by a jutting wing of the building. Such, on the hard ground, was my sick couch by day, and at night, I lodged at the White Horse tavern, kept by a Mr. Sny- der. I have more than once, long since then, lodged at the same tavern, under circumstances far different. Finding it but seventy-five miles from Chambersburg to Baltimore, where I had an uncle, (my mother's only brother,) whom I had not seen for many years, I set out for that city, in the hope of being able to reach it by short stages. The season was towards the latter end of Autumn, when the nights begin to be cold; I suffered no little from that circumstance in crossing the South moun- tain, which I did, from the northern foot to the summit, after sunset, and took lodgings at the summit tavern, where I arrived shaking with an ague. I was put in the same room with a wagoner, who had been there for several days indulging in a drunken debauch, his six horses and loaded wagon standing there idle, meanwhile. No less than five times during the night, this unfortunate man called out to me, that he was on fire and burning up, and so piteous were his groans and cries for water, that I as often left my bed to get him some, groping my way down the strange stairs and into the yard, at the risk of my neck. " Never taste liquor, my young friend," he would OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 21 again and again exclaim. " O, for God's sake avoid it, if you don't wish to be the wretchedest being in existence. O ! my heart is on fire ! it's on fire I O ! if you would shun my fate, young man, never taste liquor — never!" Yet, when I left my chamber next morning, which, as may be supposed, was somewhat late, the landlord inform- ed me that this wretched man had already drank eleven drams. My next stay was for three days with a simple-minded Putch family at the southern foot of the mountain. Get- tysburg was but a few miles off, and of this they talked as though it was some large metropolis; it made them dizzy, they said, to go there, there were so many things to be seen, and so much noise and bustle. Yet it is but an ordinary sized country town! Proceeding on, at the rate of six or eight miles per diem, I reached the Cross Keys tavern, over the Maryland border, where by the humane landlord, and equally humane wife, I was detained in spite of myself for full six weeks, and every benevo- lent attention was gratuituously rendered me. It was with some difficulty, and not till they had procured me a passage to Baltimore in a wagon — stages did not then run on that road — that I could get this kind couple to consent to my leaving when I did, for they insisted that I was not yet sufficiently recovered. Nor, indeed, was I, but I affected to be so, from a reluctance to tresspass longer on their liberality. These people were Roman Catholics. Pale as marble, emaciated, and shivering in a thin summer garb in the middle of December, I presented myself to my uncle, who recognized me because of a likeness I then bore, as he said, to my mother in her last illness. I remained with him until I had so far regained my health and strength, as to justify my setting out for Philadelphia, which, from Baltimore, is distant one hun- dred miles. The route in those days was through a sparsely peopled and wild sort of country; the several small streams which intersected the road were without bridges, and in that wintry season, for it was early in February, the journey on foot, through mud and snow, proved a most toilsome one. At Havre de Grace I crossed the Susquehannah on the ice, in my stocking feet, for as it had frozen but the night before, it was so exceedingly slippery that I could make no progress over it in my shoes; its width at that place is fully a mile, I should think; 22 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AI^D TRAVELS I know that I thought it doubly that, as it creaked under my weight at every step. I tarried for a night at Elkton. A strange event had recently transpired near there. An old gentleman having made a visit of several days to his son, at Wilmington, had requested the latter to accompany him through a certain extensive woods, on his route homeward, as some robberies had recently occurred there and he feared to pass it alone. The son, accordingly, armed himself, and accompanied his father to a point where the road ceased to be dangerous; they there exchanged adieus in the most affectionate manner, and having shaken hands, were in the act of parting, when the son's hand accidentally struck the trigger of a loaded pistol which he carried in a girdle, to be ready for instant use, and the ball entered the old man's heart! Thus the very means he had adopted for his safety, proved the occasion of his death. How little we know what an event will bring forth ! Shortly after my return to Philadelphia, from the suf- fering and toilsome journey I have described, I went to live in Bristol, twenty miles northeast of Philadelphia, and most " cozily situated," (as Laurie Todd would say,) on the shore of the Delaware ; I remained there for some- thing more than a year, and boarded during the major part of the time with an excellent Methodist family named T . In conjunction with a son of this family, Benjamin by name, I used to hold some two or three religious meetings per week, and, between us, (though I was not a member,) we added not a few to the Methodist society there. Benjamin T., the son of my host there, was by about two years my inferior in age, but, as I unaffectedly think, my superior in mental endowment, especially of the kind requisite for public speaking. In close reasoning I think I excelled him, and in verbal accuracy, also; but he far surpassed me in mental force, in compass of voice, in grace of action, and in impassioned volubility. I am not sure that I did not envy brother Ben, as I was wont to call him, on the ground of his outshining me in these respects; be that as it may, my efforts to improve him were ardent and unremitting, and if this should be deemed incompatible with envy, 1 would hint, that it is quite possible my vanity was as largely concerned in the business as my benevolence. OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 23 O, me! how many amusing anecdotes could I relate of those days! How Ben and I used to exhort the con- gregations by turns; how we used — by stipulation — to groan for each other, ejaculate amens, and the like, in order that our pious exercises might have the more effect. Upon my word, this is as true as gospel, and that, too, without necessarily implying any impeachment of our sincerity, for conscience winks at much duplicity when it is practiced in the name of religion. Ben could arouse a congregation better than I, he could alarm their feai*s, too; my softer voice and manner, better fitted me to address the tenderer feelings; hence, we were well quali- fied to act together by reason of the very contrasts between us. We were wont at times to resort, on moonlight nights, to the grave-yard of the Episcopal Church, for the pur- pose of making speeches over the tombs, founded on the epitaphs thereon inscribed. Peace to thee! sacred and venerable fane! and peace to those who slumber in thine ancient graves! In the picture which memory paints of, at once, the most suffering, and yet most happy period of my life, thou, venerated pile, art a prominent object, and she loves to linger about thy quiet and picturesque precincts. Where brother Ben and I full oft retir'd, With zeal to excel our youthful bosoms fir'd, When evening on the earth had spread its gloom, To muse and spout o'er many an ancient tomb. There (though none heard) we spoke a world of sense, No pulpit e'er displayed such eloquence; Between us both most lengthy words wore said — What pity they were wasted on the dead! We never saw — 'tis true we ne'er did look To see — if any of the tombstones shook, Or any ghosts were charmed out of their places, With saucer eyes to stare us in our faces, And question who we were, what there we did, Or blab their secrets about money hid — Murders committed — heirs wrong'd of their estate — What us awaited in our future fates. And other things that would to time's end reach, According to the creed old ladies teach. These we never saw; but we have seen the trees Shake rather hard — perhaps 'twas by the breeze. All else was still as when a parson preaches. Lest any fuss might interrupt our speeches. But Ben, alas! proved in the end quite unsteady; his notions of himself were very towering; he strongly in- 94 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS clined, moreover, to run aground, and wreck his bark, on the lee-shore of female fascination; and, oh! with how many wrecks of saintship is that dangerous coast be- strewn! Ben loved, after exhorting in meeting, to indulge in soft relaxations amongst the pretty sisters of the church. I foresaw his danger from this source, and interposed my frequent and earnest counsel in order to save him. But Ben was incorrigible; he soon fell under church censure, and lost his license to preach. The loss of his religion soon followed; he doffed his round-bellied coat; put himself under the tuition of a doctor in the village to be initiated into the mysteries of body-curing, instead of soul-curing, and in a marvelously short time Ben could pour forth the technicalities of the medical science as volubly as he formerly did those of divinity. I had ceased to be a resident of Bristol when this change in his affairs came about, and was living in Sweedsboro', New Jersey, where, however, I was fully informed of all that had transpired, and in reference thereto I perpetrated the following piece of doggrel satire, in a letter to his father : — Some events have occurred, or concurred, I might say, On my purpose of writing to throw some delay; However, to pay you for waiting some time, I will send you some scraps of my wisdom in rhyme, But for fear you should think me a jingling pest, I will rhyme but a part, and make prose of the rest. And first, for a hint — for in poetry I find I can slip out a hint rather best to my mind — 'Bout the sphere of my thoughts an inquiry has hover'd Whether Ben has, in culling of simples, discover'd. That religion belongs to the dire febrile train, And, like most other fevers, deranges the brain? If so, 'tis a wond'rous discov'ry, I own. And I think that in mercy its cause should be shown; And were I as much of a doctor as poet, I would ding out some technical phrases, and show it; For the cause being shown we could soon find a cure. — I say we — I'm too fast — I mean Ben to be sure. For what is our knowledge of cures'? A mere puff". When compared with his quackship's who pounds doctor stuff; Why, only to hear him harangue ! Such great words Never came from a common man's mouth. Among birds There is one called the magpie — to hear him, you'd swear He had been in Ben's drug shop, and learn'd to prate there. At this distance of time, I can render no particular reason for the severity of these allusions to my old chum; possibly, as I deemed myself to be a saint, and him to OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER 25. have <' fallen from grace," I merely used a saint's privi- lege of abusing a reprobate. It may be, however, that my motive was really the benevolent one of goading Ben, by the stings of sarcasm, to a renewal of his christian vocation. He never did renew it though — I grieve to record it — but he became an inebriate, and died su^h. Alas! for thee, my old friend. CHAPTER II, Ib prone to the sin of poetry-making — more about Ben — Religious Bwoonings— Eccentricities of Father S. — Devotes himself per- manently to the ministerial profession. I was somewhat given to the folly of poetising in those days — as I yet am,when I ought to know better, — I was even flattered by many with the idea that I really was a poet of no common promise — a judgment in which my vanity very cordially coincided, I will not, even now, •affect the humility of denying that I believe myself to have been a tolerable versifier, which is not stretching my pretensions very high, inasmuch as it is a talent quite common with boys and boarding-school misses; whereas, to be a genuine poet is the privilege of but here and there one to millions — " a remnant according to the election of grace." While living in Bristol I wrote a pompous piece, entitled " Midnight," which, by my associates, as ignorant as myself, was lavishly praised. But what most elated me in regard to it, was the applause it gained me from a Philadelphia clergyman and teacher of the ancient lan- guages, who was up at Bristol spending a short vacation. He, and a student of his, named Johnson, (now an Epis- copal clergyman,) and Ben, and myself, were crossing over to the opposite shore in a skiff, on an afternoon as beautiful and as bright as my hopes; the student whispered me to hand him the poem, and he would subject it to the great man's inspection; the rowing was suspended, whilst by his direction, it was slowly and distinctly read to him. With a heart palpitating, meanwhile, like a culprit's, pending sentence, I awaited the oracle's decision. Con- ceive my delight, reader, when it proved one of unqualified approval. " Your fortune is made," whispered Ben in my 26 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS ear, " for Mr. — , is a judge capable of criticising Homer himself." Mercy on us! what simpletons young fellows are when about passing into the adolescent state! The life-in-a-garret fortune of a poet would be fine ground for gratulation, truly! No, no, my friend Ben, you were mistaken, and the oracle was not qualified to discriminate between high-sounding jingle and poetry. The thing was sufficiently orthodox in sentiment, however, and 1 will present a few stanzas, from about forty of which it was comprised, as a sample of its tone and style. 'Tis midnight, dark and solemn silence reigns. In this dread hour the guilty mind obtains No rest; but, like a tempest-beaten bark, Tis tost, amid the waves of anxious thought, Whilst gathering storms alarm; the mind thus fraught With horror, is than midnight's gloom more dark. The night is drear when o'er the darken'd sky, Black clouds before the driving tempests fly, And lightnings flash around, and thunders roll, And drear the night of death, when on the verge Of untried worlds, where foams the angry surge Of the dark rolling Styx, appears the soul. But Oh 1 when hope's last glimmer disappears, When blaek remorse the guilty bosom tears, Then ev'ry horror thought can form lurks there — What tongue of man — what pen, though dipt in hell—* Can the dread state of such a being tell) Great God I how dark the midnight of despair I How many sailors on the rolling wave In this dark hour, whose gallant hearts might brave All common ills, are clinging to the shroud. - Whilst Death is stalking ghastly through the storm. Yet to the brave he seems no frightful form. Who hope their sun shall rise above the cloud. How many Sent'nels pacing to and fro Their destined stands, to watch against the foe, Are ruminating on the bloody stage, Whilst many partners in the past day's fight, Have been forever hurried from their sight, And wafted home beyond commotion's rage. That rumbling noise which meets my ear so late, Must be the grating of the churchyard gate. Ah, yes, here comes the Sexton, with his key, • Think of the extravagance of converting hell into an ink-stand? / OF JL UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 27 He'3 been preparing a long home for some Poor child of clay, thus, when my hour is come, The grim man's spade will scratch a hole for me. Thus God decrees, and his decrees are just, From dust we came, and we return to dust. Life, like a spider's web in the sun's ray, Presents its gilded rubbish to the eye. Till, like a tempest from the low'ring sky. Death comes, dread blast, and sweeps the web away. »Tis one o'clock! the wakeful-time piece cries, From hill to hill the direful echo flies: Time rolls along; n^r waits the king of dread Ta parley with his victims, the pale shroud. The winding-sheet, and coffin, cry aloud, ♦'Prepare! ye soon must slumber with the dead!" Awake! ye slumb'ring Atheists, and resolve Who made those countless shining worlds revolve? Bv whom through space were glaring comets hurl'd? Who wing'd the spirit, so that it can soar To heaven, and its star-spangled heights explore? You'll know when the same hand shall burn the world. Those blazing orbs which deck yon sable dome, Shall soon be quench'd in night's eternal gloom. Yon moon, just peeping from behind a cloud, And glancing through the shade a smile serene, Shall weep in tears of blood amid that scene. And night's dark mantle shall all nature shroud. The following are the two closing stanzas of the poem, the latter of which might lead one to suppose that I had, agreeably to the old-fashioned Calvinistic requisition of the candidates for their communion, worked myself up to a willingness to be damned for the glory of God. Thy sjuardian arms, Jehovah, shall defend My midnight hours, thou ever-present Friend ; And when my heart is void and dark, thy grace Shall cheer its gloom, thy love possess its void, And when my body is by worms destroyed, Then shall my spirit rest in thine embrace. But should my sins so manifold, weigh down My soul beneath thy just indignant frown. So that I cannot praise thee with the blest. Still, O my God! my suflT'ring soul shall tell That thou art just, and from the depths of hell Thy mercies count, and groan thy praise distrest. 2% EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS. Ben and I used to unite in most of our employments and pastimes; together we rambled — bathed — sailed — fished — prayed — read — studied Latin, and dipt into Greek — dabbled in both, would more truly express the fact ; we were seldom seen apart except when he was engaged in gallantries, and in that matter I left him the field to himself. One lovely summer afternoon, however, I set out to go a whortle-berrying with two young sisters of the church, but meeting the father of one of them, he predicted a rain at hand, and slie^ therefore, declined going; the other, expressing a determination to persevere, I could do no less than accompany her. So we borrowed an umbrella, and, with each a pail on our arm, on we went. We had hardly reached the swamp ere the clouds had gathered darkly, and the thunder began to mutter; anon began to fall rain-drops as large as cherries; we were convinced that an unusually heavy thunder-storm was at hand, but, being full two miles from the village, and nearly as far from any house, we had nothing left but to make the best of a bad bargain; so we seated ourselves on a dry spot, and brought the umbrella over us as near to the ground as possible, and, by sitting close, thought we might thus escape. But the rain pattered on our frail roof — then dashed — then poured — and the lurid lightning flashed — flashed — then darted down in angry bolts. As our umbrella proved but a poor defence, and the bushes around us hung temptingly full, we concluded to throw the former aside and go to picking, which we did with so good a will the rain pouring down on us in torrents the while, that by night we succeeded in filling two com- mon sized water-pails. We deferred our return until dark, judging that our drenched and bedrabbled figures would not show to advantage by daylight. Although I mixed much with the Methodists, and pre- ferred them to all other christians on most accounts, yet I never could regard the noise and rant of their worship with favor; I often tried to reason myself into an acqui- ^cence in it, but, if I ever succeeded in doing so, my moral sense would recoil at it in spite of me; 1 found it hard to resist the persuasion that the faintings, convul- sions, paralyses, etcetera, which frequently came under my notice, were not resolvable into animal sympathy, or hysteria. However, a case fell under my notice, at Bris- tol, which puzzled my philosophy not a little. A most OF A TTNIVERSALIST' PREACHER. t^ interesting girl, of about twelve years old, and of a highly respectable family, was several times affected at our meetings in a manner for which I could not on natural principles account; she would lose all consciousness,* her limbs and joints would become so rigid that no one could bend them; her eyes, meanwhile, would be wide open and turned upward, and a beautiful smile would rest upon her countenance. This case was, for some time, a poser to me ; I could not resolve it into hypocrisy, for the girl was young and guileless; no, I was forced to own that the direct power of God was in the matter, and I rejoiced at being compelled into that conclusion — I really did — I make the declaration with great sincerity, for my heart has ever inclined to the superstitious extreme in religion, but my phylosophy, being of a cold and scrutinizing char- acter, has usually refused to bear it company. I most heartily sympathize in the sentiment so prettily expressed by a poet (Woodworth, if I mistake not) who remembers, he says, when the blue sky above him seemed heaven itself to his fancy, and but a short distance off; he con- cludes by saying — " It was a childish vanity, But still 'tis little joy, To think I'm farther now from heaven, Than when I was a boy." Alas! of how many a pleasing fallacy of our youth are we robbed by the soberer reason of our riper age! I can speak experimentally on this point, for immediately sub- sequent to my becoming a subject of religion, I rejoiced when the deep thunder uttered its voice, because my Father seemed nearer to me then than usual. O! be ever mine the innocency of heart which will make that Father's voice a welcome sound to me, whether heard in the startling thunder-peal or in the soft breath of evening! But to return to the case in hand. I was walking one day with a brother of the girl, himself a Methodist, and a student for the ministry — when he suddenly inquired of me, " What think you of those paroxysms by which my sister is affected at our meetings?" "Your question sur- prises me,*' said I, " the girl is certainly not acting a part in these cases?"" "O, no; far from it, I believe her to be perfectly passive in them."" " Well, then," I added, "what can I think of those affections, but that they are instances of the direct influence of God's spirit on those who sin- 30 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS cerely worship him? I have persuaded myself that such ■must be the fact, in your sister's case at least." " You are mistaken, however," he replied; "the doctrine of direct divine influences may be true — indeed, as a Methodist, I am bound to believe it is, but my sisters case aifords it no confirmation; she knows absolutely nothing about religion, nor does her every day conduct indicate any experimental acquaintance with it; she is, in that respect, just like other girls of her age. Our physician pronounces it a nervous afl^ection, and advises that she be kept from the class of meetings which are likely to affect her in that way." Thus was my faith in direct divine influences of this kind destroyed almost as soon as it was formed. Amongst those who patronised my muse in Bristol, was Mrs. Cooper, v,^ife of the distinguished tragedian, whose residence was among the prettiest of the many pretty villas which skirt the Delaware at that place. Their library — to the free use of which I was admitted — com- prised the works of the old English Dramatists, with which I then, for the first time, became acquainted, for they had never, at that date, been reprinted in this coun- try. Shakspeare I had read long before, but I could not understand him sufficiently to sympathize in that high, that almost idolatrous admiration of him, which is so general throughout the literary world; I better liked Rowe, Otoway, Sheridan, and other of the more obvious Dramatists; 1 lacked the necessary degree of discernment to appreciate Shakspeare's master-strokes, and to detect those nice delineations of character and passion in which, chiefly, consists his pre-eminence as a poet; and even now — although I devour with delight able criticisms evolving his beauties — I confess myself unable to detect and draw them out for myself. This fact led me to suspect that in courting the muses I had mistaken my vocation, for one can hardly be a true poet himself, I thought, without the capacity to appreciate whatever is exquisitely beau- tiful in the poetry of others. I think so still. Among the pieces which commended me to the patronising notice of Mrs. Cooper, was the following on THE NUPTIAL TIE. Eden was pleased when the first wedded pair Appeared, to grace her happy beauteous scene, For peace, and love, and innocence were there. Such as, since their sad lapse, are scarce, I ween. OF A UNIVERSALIST PEEACHER, 31 The golden Sun with bright effulgence beamed, The verdant landscape most delightful seemed, And sweetly did the balmy breeze Whisper its greetings through the trees; And nuptial sonnets, clear and shrill, From plumaged choirs, the groves did fill; E'en angels smiled to see them paired, And in the gen'ral pleasure shared. Well pleased, Jehovah viewed them from the sky, Pronounced them good, and bade them multiply. Not Eden's self could half suffice to sooth The lone man's bosom, for a pulse was there. Which throbbed for social life, and nought could smooth His sterneT nature, but a helpmete fair. Man ne'er was made for monkish solitude; His heart is callous till by love subdued: And there i-s bliss, and there alone. Where kindred souls flow into one, And each the other"'s pleasure shares, And each the other"'8 burden bears: Angels behold in scenes like this Some semblance to their bowers of bliss. Hail nuptial life? Jehovah's word makes known. That 'tis not good for man to be alone. I should be ungrateful to omit to name among my pat- rons of that time, one Henry Lippencott, a Quaker, who taught a select school in Bristol, He would fain have given a morc ambitious aim to my literary attempts, thoughit is doubtless well that I rated myself much less highly than he was disposed to rate me. He was an ex- cellent scholar, and, not content with warmly admiring such productions as were to his taste, he benevolently desired to encourage and pati^onize the authors of whal he thus admired. He was an inveterate bachelor; and when, at his request, I wrote the above lines, on the oc- casion of the marriage of a particular friend of his, it was on the condition that he would read to the party, at wed- ding, the following additional lines, which he was not to see until he came to read them to the company. A rusty bachelor is devoid of all The nobler feelings, which distingui.h men; T'were well to keep him in a stall. With halter round his neck, or in a pen, With husks to eat: such bipeds are not men; They're seldom any thing, but now and then. Why call a bachelor a man? He lacks a rib, at least, nor can 32 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS That needful member be supplied, Without tl)e taking of a bride. A hai-sh joke, this, at the expense of my friend anp patron; but, besides that, a bachelor is a proper subject of quiz at all times, such jokes are always admissible at matrimonial festivities. During the year of my residence in Sweedsboro', my health failed exceedingly, and my mind suffered a slight impairalion from too intense an application to study, in a room without a chimney for ventilation, in which I also slept. The man with whom I boarded there, was a Metho- dist, rather from preference than from principle, for he Was ignorant of the doctrines of that church; his morals were unacceptionable, but worldly things engrossed his care. There was but one church in the village, an Epis- copalian; it was, however, a large and wealthy one; its B-ector's name was Simon Wilmer: it would be well for Christianity if all christian pastors were like him, for he was one of the most amiable, simple-hearted, and benevo- lent of men; he was of the low-school party in his church, and his usage was to preach without his gown, in the lower desk, on Sunday evenings, and to hold a meeting for exhortation and prayer on a week-day evening of every week. These things, at that day, were generally regard- ed, by Episcopalians as reprehensible irregularities. I often attended at Mr. Wilmer's church, and spoke and prayed at his extra meetings; I also held meetings, some- times on my own appointment, both in the village and in the region about it. I early became a contemner of human authority in matters of religion, and I am so still, to some- extent. With the Methodists of that country I used to meet often; they were a devout people, and simple-hearted, but illiterate in the last degree; and they regarded with great jealousy any who were above an equality with them in this last respect, they seemed to entertain the notion that in- telligence, especially on the part of young persons, was incompatible with piety. Once, at a camp-meeting, I was passing a tent in which sat two local preachers, engaged in a discussion; they beckoned me in, and submitted the point in dispute to my umpirage : it was, whether the Sabbath kept by christians, is, as to the day, identical with that enjoined in the decalogue? I very frankly gave them the result of my reading on the subject : I informed them that OF A UJSIVERSVLIST PREACHER. 33' christians observed the first day of the week as a Sabbath, instead of the seventh. That in the christian code there was no injunction as to the observance of any day. That as Jesus had risen from the dead on the first day of the week, the apostles and early converts to Christianity used to assemble on that day to celebrate the event by the breaking of bread, and other appropriate exercises. That such continued the usage of the church for a long time ; and that, on the strength of such custom, and the fact whereon it was founded, the generality of christians thought themselves warranted in assuming, that the substi- tution of the first day of the week as a Sabbath, for the seventh, is, according to divine authority, obligatory upon all human beings. The two preachers exchanged significant winks and nods with each other, during my remarks, and when I had ended, one of them fetched a long breath, and observed, " Young man, it is much to be feared that your learning will prove a snare to your immortal soul; I dont wonder, now, that Father S. considers you to be a very dangerous person." So much for my pains! And, then, my learning! God knows I could most conscientiously plead guiltless to that charge. I knew something more than they, it is true; and, to a fly, one inch beyond its little circle of vision is infinite space. The Father S., referred to, was one of the oddest of odd old men; his aversion to me arose from my oppo- sition to shouting, to which he was extravagantly given. He was once preaching a very interesting sermon, for, be- ing very anecdotal, he could, at times, interest an audience exceedingly, and happening to utter the phrase, "glory to God,'' just as our eyes chanced to meet, he was thereby reminded of my dislike to such ebulitions, whereupon his face reddened, and stamping his foot with great energy, whilst he cast at me a glance of defiance, he exclaimed : **Yes — glory to God! — I icill say glory to God, in spite of the devil.'''' I have heard that same old man pray God to "mount his gospel chariot and ride over the devil" — to "rout the devil out of his den, and burn his nest" — to "plant an arrow in the sinner's heart that neither the devil nor his wife could pull out," etc., etc. On a certain occasion he was discoursing to a very large audience in the woods; some of his hearers were seated on rude benches, some in wagons drawn up near the stand; not a few young men had got upon to the lower branches of trees near by. The 34' EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS old man was in one of his good moods, and all eyes were riveted on him; he, however, was not so wholly engrossed by his subject as to prevent his perceiving that a thunder- storm was gradually rolling along to the part of the hea- vens directly over the meeting; taking care to keep his auditors so engaged that they should not notice it, he slyly watched its progress, till, perceiving it just ready to break forth, he suddenly threw up his hands toward heaven, and, in the shrillest tones of his» peculiarly shrill voice, he cried out, "Lord! send thunder and lightning down to awaken these stupid sinners !" Scarcely had he uttered the imprecation, ere down flashed a lurid bolt, and almost simultaneously therewith the thunder bellowed forth an almost deafening peal. The scene that ensued was ludi- crous beyond description — I had my account of it from a preacher who was present — chairs and benches were overturned ; the wagons were instantly vacated ; men leaped from their perches on the trees, and the whole audience, both male and female, were soon in full and confused flight, as fast as their feet would carry them. The old man, meanwhile, was not slow to improve his advantage over their fears, but, clapping his large hands, and stamping with all his might on the loose floor of the stand, he yelled after them at the utmost reach of his voice, " Run ! sinners, run ! the devil's after you — the devil's after you — runl run!" My informant assured me that several of the auditors were converted by virtue of that fright, and to this day it would be useless to try to convince many of the good people about there, that God did not send that thunder and lightning from heaven in express compliance with Father S.'s petition. Father S. had for his junior on the circuit a Scotchman, named McL. ; he was a man of a mild and amiable spirit, and an inquisitive turn of mind; between him and I a very close intimacy subsisted; he was in the habit of acquaint- ing me with much that transpired behind the curtain in his church: his own mind had conceived a morbid disgust at his profession, on account of those things, and he more than once informed me that he was strongly tempted to go off into far-western wilds, where he should not be known as ever having been a preacher, and thus to eschew the whole concern forever. That same McL., at the date of my last acquaintance with him, 1840, was an Atheist; made such, beyond a doubt, by the bad conduct which is too, too OF A TNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 35 prevalent among christian professors of every name. 1 am far from wishing to have it inferred, that evils of the kind which disgusted him, are confined to the Methodist church, or to any number of churches, to the exclusion of the rest; truth is, they exist in all, nor do I take it on me to decide in which they exist in the greater or in the less proportion. Still, it betrays, as it seems to me, an imbe- cility of mind, to allow one's self to be driven from the an- chor-hold of one's faith by considerations of this kind. Shall I become a monarchist, or an imperialist, because there are many bad men in our republic? I had better first determine whether there are not also bad men in a monarchy, or in an empire. And, as respects the bad people in churches, do they not contain thousands and tens of thousands of good people, also? And, if we leave Christianity for atheism, shall we find in the sterile wastes thereof influences more purifying, or truths more so- lacing ? As, after a year's residence in Sweedsboro', my state of mind and health laid me under the necessity of travelling, my friend, Rev. Mr. Wilmer, persuaded me to accept an agency for the American Sunday School Union, and was so kind as to furnish me with letters of recommendation to the principals of that institution in New York city. Accordingly, winding up my affairs in New Jersey, I went to Philadelphia, and thence took a steamboat for New York. On my arrival at Trenton, where, at that time, passengers for New York left the boat for the stage, my baggage was found missing. I had, at Philadelphia, put it into the charge of the person to whom I supposed the agent of the line referred me ; but he proved, as I after- wards learned, the wrong one, and I lost, by the mistake, every penny worth of property I had in the world, save the clothes on my back. As this circumstance occurred on a Saturday, 1 was thereby detained in Trenton over the Sabbath, and it proved the means of diverting my feet into an entirely different path of employment. " The heart of a man deviseth his way, but the Lord directeth his steps." Some while previous to that period, a Methodist preach- er, named Samuel Kennard, of the Kensington station, had been excommunicated by the conference, on the charge of having encouraged expectations toward matrimony, in a young lady of his church, which he failed to fulfil. I 36 EXPERIENCC, LABORS, AND TRTVELS take it not on me to say, whether the proceeding against him was just or unjust; certain it is, however, that many thought him an injured man, and seceded from the Methodist church in consequence of his excission. Being an ambitious person, of a very fair order of talents, engaging manners, and a fervid style of eloquence, he soon gathered a large society of his own, who built him a good meeting-house in Kensington. In the course of a few years other preachers attached themselves to his estabish- ment ; these sought new fields of labor, whereby the concern might branch out, and swell into the dimensions of a sect, and it really at one time wore a serious aspect to that effect; several country congregations were estab- lished in connection therewith; it organized a conference, and published a book of discipline.* It happened, that on the Sabbath of my detention at Trenton, this same Samuel Kennard was to preach, and form a new society there; in the forenoon of the day he attended divine service at the Episcopal church, where 1 also happened to be in attendence ; he had been previously somewhat acquainted with me, and nothing could have been more opportune for him, than his falling in with me again at that particular time : he knew me to be a decided foe to ecclesiastical tyranny, in all its forms, and yet strictly orthodox in all the essentials of faith; he engaged me therefore to accompany him to his lodgings, which was at the house of Francis Wiggins, the projector and publisher of the first Methodist paper ever issued in the United States, where he plied me with all his arts of persuasion to attach myself to his interests. I, at length, yielded, so far as to agree to take under my charge the new society at Trenton, but I persisted in my refusal to be recognized as a minister in formal connection with his establishment. He was but too glad to secure me, on any terms, to demur at this arrangement, and the compact between us was seal- ed by my preaching for him that same evening. Such were the circumstances under which, at the termination of my twenty-third year, I devoted myself to the avoca- tion of the Gospel ministry, in which, to this day, having now passed the close of my forty-first, year I have been ever since unremittingly engaged. * It has no existence at this time, the very house erected by the parent society has long since been razed from its foundation, and a feaptist church has been reared on the scite. OF A UNIVERSALIST PEEACHEE 37 It is but justice to myself to state, lest I should seem to have too hastily abandoned the Sunday school concern, that I made some sacrifice to conscience in that matter; From a conversation with an enlightened individual I be- came convinced that the concern is a purely sectarian one, a fact of which I had not been apprised when I agreed to act as its agent; and although, professedly, it is an union of all sects for an object of common benevolence, yet, in reality, it embraces only those — self-named evangelical — which maintain, substantially, a common theological creed. As an agent for this institution I was to have received $400 per annum, out of which my expenses would have been comparatively trifling, as my credentials would have secured to me, in almost every place I should visit, a free hospitality amongst the members of the leading religious sects. As a preacher, I stipulated for iiothing, and with the exception of my board, and not always that, 1 received about what I stipulated for. How I was to get through life at that rate I troubled not myself to decide, nor even to inquire. I am, at the present day, but little advanced from that state of penny-wise calculation and forecast; I have lived, never- theless, and reared a family, in tolerable comfort and good credit; hoio, he who clothes the lillies of the field, and feeds the ravens, best knoweth. CHAPTER III. Takes the charge of a little society at Trenton, N. J. — Is some- what annoyed by ranters — Begins to itinerate — His ignorance on practical subjects — Is a latitudinarian in ecclesiastical affairs — Visits northeastern Pa., and describes the Beech woods there — Portrays a certain class of ranting itinerants — Re-visits the Beech woods — Some difficulties from getting lost there. For some time the affairs of my charge at Trenton got along very well, the congregation increased, and the soci- ety received accessions from time to time. Some of the brethren were of opinion, however, that the increase would have been much greater if I had encouraged shout- ing, and paid less attention to gramatical precision in my speaking. Perhaps they were right, for rant and noise go a great way in promoting certain causes. Nevertheless, for a quiet man, they were pretty well satisfied with me. 38 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS Once in a while a noisy preacher would pass along, and then they would have a shout. By the way, I soon found that this class of preachers regarded me with small favor, notwithstanding that I let them have their own way, with- 'OUt the slightest opposition. I once, at very considerable pains, got up a meeting for one of them who was passing through the place, and paid him, besides, many friendly attentions. At my boarding-house, previous to the meeting, I mildly laid before him my views on the subject; he heard them without a word of objection; I even thought he acqui- esced in them; but when he got into the pulpit, where he ■could have the talk all to himself, mercy! how he belabored me 1 ^'Shout, brethren!" said he, "dont be afraid of offend- ing the delicate sensibilities of certain gentry, who oppose it for fear it should wake up some sinners who are slum- bering over the pit of hell. Never mind such squeamish •christians; don't quench the spirit to please them, if they •are preachers; if you feel like jumping, jump! If you feel like clapping hands, clap away ! If you want to sing out glory, out with it! DonH let all hell stop you! If any of these still-horn christians should tell you that it aint polite, andsoforth; tell them you expect to shout in heaven — a favorite ai-gument with all ranters — and that you'll shout on the way there as much as you please," etc., etc. When I arose to close the services, I contented myself by quietly remarking, in reply to all this farrago, that, as I had been accustomed to regard heaven as at least, a de- cent sort of place, I hoped we should not throw ourselves heels-over-heads in our worship there, as certain saints, of both sexes, took a fancy to do in this world. This quiet retort so oifended my ranting friend, that he was secretly my foe ever afterward. Indeed, the ill-will of this sort of saints is usually no temporary affair, it burns like a smoul- dering volcano, and is as gloomy, and as unending, as a northeast storm. Nevertheless, with the ignorant in certain churches, and a large majority will range under that head, those who make the most noise are accounted the best christians, whilst the soberer sort are suspected oi having •barely grace enough to save them. Francis Wiggins, with whom I domiciliated in Trenton, had a brother named Frederick, about twenty years old, who was on a footing of intimacy with the daughter of a respectable Methodist family of the place, whose name, for obvious reasons, must not be given; tlie reader must be OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 59 content to know the young lady under the name of Clara. Fred was suspected of aspiring to a matrimonial alliance with her, which, as the old folks did not approve, they forbid him the house. In a day or two after this inter- dict, Clara, with a small parcel in her hand, appeared at our door, and inquired for Fred; when he appeared, she beckoned him apart, and told him that as she was about to elope, that very hour, on his account, he might do as he pleased about accompanying her. This was a sudden and heavy draft upon Fred's gallantry ; but he met it like a knight-errant, and in a trice the worthy couple were on their way to Philadelphia. They took the less direct and less frequented rout, along the Jersey shore, and reached Bordentown that night, where they tarried, and took the stage for Philadelphia next morning. Meanwhile the girl's father had been apprised of the flight, and, prepar- ing himself with a warrant and a brace of constables, he started early next morning in pursuit, and overtaking the stage, near Burlington, he stopped it, and proceeded to drag his daughter out in no gentle style; Fred, fancying that he must play the hero in behalf of his stolen flower, drew a pistol, and avowed a determination to shoot down any man who should lay violent hands on her; but this chivalric display availed him nothing, he was soon brought to terms, and Clara was compelled to return with her indignant sire. Thus ends one branch of this story. On her arrival at home, Clara was kept in durance, and a strict watch maintained over her. But love laughs at iron bars, they say, and, certes, most marvelous things are told of its feats, by poets and romancers. One even- ing Clara was missed; search was made for her high and low without success; two laudanum phials were found in her chamber, recently emptied of their contents; this threw the family into great alarm. Fred was sent for, but he, poor fellow! could furnish no clue by which the mystery of her absence could be explained. ''Oh I find my child alive," exclaimed the father, " and I consent to your making a wife of her immediately." Fred, however, was doubtful, very^ as to her ever being so found. She had poisoned herself beyond a doubt; nevertheles, there was a bare possibility that such was not the case, and if he could have a written certificate of their consent to her union with him, he would at once set about a search for her. This was readily complied with, and Fred, the sly rogue, 40 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS with the certificate in his pocket, went straight to where he knew Clara to be concealed, and made her his wife without loss of time. Is not fact often quite as strange as fiction ? I lodged the next night in the same house with the young couple, who were in high glee at the success of their ruse. Clara was a little beauty, and but little past fifteen. Whether Love contrived as shrewdly for them after marriage as before, I never learned. I had been but about four months in Trenton, ere, finding my situation was eagerly coveted by a fellow preacher, much my senior in years, and in clerical stand- ing, I quietly retired, and left him to the uncontested occupancy of it; the more willingly in consideration of his having a family, who, with himself, were depend- ant on his profession for a support ; being myself unencumbered in that way, I could better afford to strike into new fields of labor of my own opening ; possibly my stronger reason was, that I had a latent propensity for roving. And what wonder ? For nine years I had been pent up in an orphan's asylum, and in all that while I had scarcely been a score of times beyond its precincts. Then I served a six years appren- ticeship, in Philadelphia, and can aver, before God, that no Southern slavery, that has fallen within my knowledge, was more confining or oppressive. For fifteen long years of my yet young life, then, I had been a prisoner. Will it surprise the reader that I have since roamed over the earth without either system or limits, and find it even now an almost impossible thing to tether myself down to any assignable location? In persuance of my determination to strike into new fields, I started out from Trenton on a pleasant Saturday, to go I knew not whither; and that my necessity might strengthen my resolution, I started without a cent in my pocket. I kept up the shore of the Delaware until, within an hour or two of night, I found myself in Lambertsville, which is a neat town on the Jersey side of the river, and is united to Newhope, a manufacturing town on the oppo- site shore, by a bridge. My first perplexity, as may well be supposed, was to decide to what individual in the place I should open my business. Revolving this inquiry I walked up one street and down another, till I became faint and begun to rue the adventure; ever and anon I would pause before a house, or store, and try to summon resolu- ■ Of A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER.' 41 tion to enter, but without effect. At length I stoped in front of a ladies' shoe-shop, kept by James Bowen. I was hesitating whether to enter or not, when I perceived that' he was looking at me through his bulk window; this deter- mined me, and in 1 went. He proved the very man I should have called upon. I doubt if my mission would have sped if I had commenced operations in any other quarter. He was a deacon of the Baptist church; the only other church in the place, he informed me, was a Presbyterian Both these churches were Calvinistic, for, at that day, Armlnio-Calvinism had UDt come into vogue in that region, cnrl the "doctrines of grace" were held by all Presbyte- rians and Baptists in their unadulterated purity. I learned from Mr. Bowen, that in Lambertsville, these two S3cts, that they might the more effectually keep out all others, united in their worship, holding meetings in their respec- tive houses alternately, and attending each the meetings of \\i2, other, whichever of the two pastors ministered. Of course this state of things was anything but favorable, to my chance of success as a third party, especially as Arminiani-zm, which was then my doctrine, was a dreaded heresy by tnem both. " To-morrow," said Mr. Bowen, *' the service will be in our church; Mr. StuU, a teacher in the place, is our pastor, until we can procure a perma- nent supply.*' I am anxious to oblige you, and if you will consent lo preach to-night^ it may be that our people will consent to give you a hearing. I will step around and see the other deacens about it. What say you?" I was too happy to obtain an opening amongst them, on any terms, not to jump in at once with his proposal. His request, on my behalf, was readily complied with by his fellow deacons. The bell called a tolerable congregation together in the basement of the church, among them was the Eev. Mr. Stull, who took me home with him after meeting, and extracted a promise from me, before I went to bed, that I would preach for him on the morrow; without such' promise he assured me he should have to sit up until midnight to prepare a discourse. On the morrow a large congregation assembled, incluiling the Presbyterian clergy- man, Ptev. Mr. Studdiford. Iliad never addressed so large and so respectable an assemblage, and although I had had the temerity to appear before it without the slightest preparation — I never did, nor could, premeditate my ser- mons — I yet had the modesty to feel most sensibly the 4 42 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS magnitude of my undertaking; my very bones ached ; my mouth parched with the intensity of my mental suffer- ing on the occasion; and had it not been that my promise to Mr. Stull had prevented a preparation on his part, I should assuredly have thrown back the task into his hands; as it was, however, I had to get along with it as best I could, and I did so without visible embarrassment. It would seem that I satisfied my hearers too, for Rev. Mr. Studdiford, requesting an introduction to me at the close of the service, very cordially tendered me the use of his pulpit, and the hospitalities of his home. The Baptists assured me of the like favor whenever it should fall in my way to revisit the place, which I often subsequently did, and made the house of Mr. Bowen my place of stay.* Thus my virgin enterprise, as a pioneer, was crowned with complete success, and was marked by some of those strangely favorable circumstances which, to the present day, have so signally attended me in all my professional undertakings. My God, may my heart never fail to throb with a quickened gratitude to thee, as my memory recalls these instances of thine overruling providence! From Lambertsville I took a circuitous route homeward, if home I could be said to have, through the northern part of Hopewell township, where I preached in the Hope- well Baptist meeting-house, and established a regular preaching station at the house of an excellent Presby- terian family, named Howes. I enjoyed many a delightful season there, but run much risk of being spoiled by the excessive tenderness of the family toward me. Their house, though in the midst of a populous neighborhood, was far from a public road, and was only accessible by crossing fields. I undertook to reach it for a meeting one tempestuous evening, and, missing my way amid intersec- ting paths, I became completely bewildered, and continued to wander from field to field till toward ten o'clock; one while deceived by a clump of trees, which in the darkness I mistook for a dwelling, another while by a barn, or a haystack. I reached a house, at length, and knocked for admission. "Who's there?" demanded a gruff voice within. "Please to open the door and see," I replied, *Thi8 gentleman (whom, and his amiable lady, may "the Father of the fatherless" reward for their many kindnesses to me!) is now a Baptist clergyman, and settled with a large church in Bucks county, Pennsylvaaia, OF A TJNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 43' ** for you would not know if I should tell you." Again and again, the timid fellow demanded to know who I was, and made no offer to let me in, until I bid him look through the window, and satisfy himself whether there was danger of betng murdered by a person of my dimen- sions. He mustered courage enough to let me in at length, and just as he did so, his wife also entered after me, and commenced telling that the preacher she had been to hear had not arrived, and the meeting had been disappointed. I interrupted her to state that I was the person, and had failed to be present by having lost my way. " You the preacher!" she exclaimed, as, holding the lantern toward me, she scanned my boyish and beardless countenance. "Lord help us, your mother ought not to trust you out! But come along, if you are the preacher, and we'll have a meeting yet." With that she run back to Howes', which proved to be close at hand, and in a little while I heard the dinner-horn summoning back the dispersed congrega- tion, who all returned, and, late as it was, and weary as I was from so long wandering and stumbling about in the dark, the quick-thoughted woman's prediction — "we'll have a meeting yet" — was verified. My next adventure was in the southern part of the same township, where I established stated preaching at the house of a Mr. Marceillus. A most eccentric character was he; he always kept a pail of cider on the table during meet- ing, for the accomodation of all who came: cider was not at that day a proscribed beverage. I know not but he used this as a lure to attract a larger attendance. It would by no means have answered to omit calling on him to pray at every meeting; an offense against his self-es- teem, would that have been, not easily pardonable ; yet, when he did pray, it was in a style so outre, so heels foremost, and so incoherent, that gravity's self must, per force, be betrayed out of its decorum. I had good success there, nevertheless, despite the awkwardness of the hands into which I had fallen : my congregations were large, and I formed a society there, in ecclesiastical union with those in Kensington and Trenton. 1 must not conceal the fact, however, that my success there, as elsewhere, was, in large measure, owing to the youthfulness of my appearance. Why that circumstance should have made so much in my favor, the reader, if such matters have 4^ EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS come at all within his observation, will understand without explanation. I was much more accustomed to dwell on consolatory topics, in my preaching in those days, than on those more affecting the fears of an audience, and when, by appeals to the conscience, I aimed to produce conviction of guilt and brokenness of heart, it was chiefly by mild remon- strance and pathetic appeals, rather than by denuncia- tions and menace. The several hymns I composed in those days so embodied the spirit and tone of my preach- ing, that extracts therefrom would better convey a con- ception of it, than would any description. Take the following from a doggerel effusion I composed to a favorite tune, and which, for said tune's sake, no doubt, was for some time much sung amongst us : — Oh, sinners, who know not the Savior, Who know not the love you provoke, By sinful, rebellious behavior, Rejecting his mild, easy yoke. Could you see the blood streaming for you, From wounds which his dear body bore When lost, and all ruined he saw you, And flew from the skies to restore. Your sins reach the skies like a mountain, And call for the vengeance of God; But Jesus has opened a fountain, To wash them away with his blood. Oh, haste, with thy guilt-wearied spirit, And plunge in this fountain so free — Haste! haste! or thou ne'er canst inherit The bliss that was purchased for thee. Backsliders, like Judas, you've sold him, Like Peter you've often denied. When first you were pardoned, you told him. You faithful would be till you died. Oh, why have you made his wounds wider — Those wounds which the rugged nails tore? Oh, turn! turn again, poor backslider! And pierce your Redeemer no more. His love-speaking eyes still reprove you, How can your hard hearts not relent? Does nought in that dying look move you, Like Peter, to weep and repent? Like the patriarch's dove, you'll discover No rest for your feet can be found, Till the ark of God's love you recover. For the billows of death roll around. OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. ■ 46 There's room in that heart that was pierced, Go mourner, and shelter you there. See, the poor dying thief is released: His sun had nigh set in despair. Though gloom upon gloom thickens o'er you, Full well can his mercy break through, He smites but to heal and restore you, And in his blest image renew. You weep, fellow pi'grim; why weep you? Your spirit, why droops it so low? That hand, in its hollow, will keep you, Which plucked you from ruin and woe. Your storm-beaten bark shall be driven, Though billows around it roll high, To the harbor of safety in heaven. Your destined abode in the sky. Farewell to this region of sorrow ; Our griefs may endure for a night, But jf)y is our portion to-morrow — Sweet portion of endless delight! Already its brightness is dawning. Already its beams shine around. Hail! brethren, Oh, hail the blest morning. When we shall with Jesus be crowned. My custom was, to perform on foot the rounds of the little circuit within which I preached, and to carry a book or two with me to peruse whenever I stoped to rest. For reading, of all sorts, my intellectual appetite was exhorbi- tant, and, as a consequence, my reading was far more ex- tensive than profitable. My education had been but a little above what is termed a good English one ; I had, it is true, well committed the principles of the Latin gram- mar, and could read, understandingly, the New Testament in that language ; for this circumstance, I was indebted to the kindness of Rev. Mr. Kennard, (Presbyterian,) son-in- law to the man with whom I served an apprenticeship : who persisted in maintaining that my trade never could he of use to me, for that nature, and he believed Providence too, had designed me for widely different pursuits. He proved a true prophet in that; but what would he say to Providence having designed me to be a Universalist preach- er '? Well, with all my reading, it would not have been easy to find an individual more innocent, than was I ; of in- formation of a practical kind, God knows I was among the greenest of his human subjects. One day, as I sat reading under the shade of a tree, a .46 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS respectable-looking old gentleman passed by in a barouche, with whom, at his invitation, I took a seat ; he proved, on practical subjects, an uncommonly intelligent person, and, being very talkative, he drew out the fact of my extreme ignorance by questioning me relative to whatever met our observation as we passed along. I hardly knew an apple tree from an oak ! and oats, wheat, rye, and the like, when merely in the blade, I took to be grass of different kinds I ** How do they build the piers for a bridge over the river V he asked : our way was along the Delaware toward New- hope. " I really don't know," I replied. " Well, then," said he, " I must inform you that they do it by means of coffer-dams — do you know what coffer-dams are ?" "I do not." He described them. " What," he again asked, " do they call the stream that runs toward that mill V I replied that I should call it a stream, and nothing more ; but the excavated bed in which it ran I should call a conduit, a channel, or some such thing, but knew not what it was technically termed. " It is a head-race," said he ; " and do you know how that water-wheel is distinguished 1 You see that the water falls on it perpendicularly." My reply was one of ignorance, as before. " It is an over-shot wheel," he answered. " Why, my young friend, you know nothing ! What books have you there ?" I was glad to have him come to the subject of books, " I will be even with you here, old gentleman," thought I ; so with infinite self-complacency I answered him, that they were a Latin Testament, and HilPs Theory of the Earth. " Pooh 1 pooh !" he replied, rather querulously, " you may study theories, and dead men's gibberish, all your life, and die a fool at last ; attend to facts, young man — to facts, and you will then be learning something ; till then you never will," and more to the same effect. Well, humiliating as this in- terview was to my feelings, it proved of great profit to me ; it aroused my ambition ; it awakened my appetite for the fruit of the tree of knowledge ; it convinced me that the mind may be lumbered up with ideas, and yet be empty with respect to useful information ; and if, in any consider- able degree, I am improved in regard to the latter, I must give much of the credit therefor to the conversation with that old gentleman. I have scarcely looked into a Latin Testament since : and the slight attention I have given to Greek, was barely necessary to qualify me to meet the ar- gument against my theological creed from that quarter. OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 47 I would not, of course, be understood as opposing the study of helles lettres, and the dead languages, by those who have ample leisure for it, as well as for the acquisition of learning of a more available kind; but such is not apt to be the case with persons who have an education to acquire at the same time that they have a maintenance to earn. I was a latitudinarian as to matters of ecclesiastical or- ganization and government. I utterly discarded all tram- mels of the sort. If any should surmise, that my objec- tion arose from a disposition to do wrong without the lia- bility of being called to an account therefor, this is my answer; that in the seventeen years of my ministry, I have extended my labors over a very wide region ; I have been in all the situations, and subject to all the temptations, inci- dental to such a course of life. Is there an individual, among all the ten thousands who have thus come to know me, who will lay aught to my charge ? aught, I say, not with respect to those things, merely, which the laws forbid, but aught affecting my character in any discreditable way ? I thank my God, that there is not one of them whom I could not look in the face again with entire self-compla- cency. It was not, then, that I might pervert my liberty to bad ends, that I spurned ecclesiastical control. I did it on conscientious grounds ; whether they were tenable or not, I will not now discuss. This position, moreover, was one which, to maintain, involved no small self-denial ; it left me without a claim on any denomination for support, and from this cause, wants pressed sorely upon me betimes ; with Paul, I knew not only " how to abound," but also " how to be empty." I have chewed the bark of trees to appease the knawings of hunger ; I have made the bare ground my bed on more than one chilly night ; I have tied my clothes into a bundle, and, strapping them on my back with my suspenders, have swam across the Delaware, for lack of means to pay for a ferryage. " The God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who is blessed for evermore, know- eth that I lie not." Sometimes I was accompanied by other preachers in my rounds. An old gentleman named Hance, was several times my companion ; we once had an old horse, between us, which we rode alternately. The poor brute had a falling- down propensity, which was not the safest thing for its own neck, nor for that of the rider. "Daddy Hance" and I, have seen some good times together at Trenton, Hope- -4.8 EXPERIENCE, LABOHS, AST) TBAVELS well, Newhope, on the mountain intermediate which skirts the Delaware on the Jersey share, at the Bear Tav- ern, at Attleboro, and elsewhere.* Another companion in travel was a young man named Worthington : we once stayed over night at the residence ©f a widow, with whom he was intimately acquainted ; she had two daughters, young women, whose sleeping apartment was directly over the one in which we were put to lodge. It happened, that . early in the night, I became affected with night-mare in my sleep, and bawled out lustily, under the impression that .somebody was wrenching my arm off at the shoulder j the girls heard' the noise, and, divining the cause, called out to my bed-fellow to wake me ; he, however, was in so sound a sleep that they had to knock on the floor, and call with all their might, ere they could arouse him. Awakening '. amidst this din — I hallooing in the bed, and the girls thump- ing and screaming to him from above— Worthington sprang up in great alarm, and, without waiting to pick up an arti- cle of his clothes, made for the door, crying out, fire ! fire ! as loud as he could bawl. John S.Christine, who is yet a "Methodist minister, living in Philadelphia, was another of the Kennard fraternity of preachers. We were once to have held a two-days meeting together in a woods near Ad- disville, Bucks county : circumstances prevented his attend- ance ; a very large audience came together, to whom, during the two days, I preached six times — for full an hour each tim.e — raised, and principally sustained, all the sing- ing, and put up a prayer before and after each sermon; this, too, in the woods, and to full a thousand persons. Yet I can afhrm truly, that I felt no more fatigued at the end of the meeting than I was at the beginning. Speaking, in- deed, cost me no exertion of a kind to induce fatigue, ex- cept in places which conveyed the sound badly; nor does it yet. I mean public speaking ; for, strange to tell, a brisk conversation affects me differently. Near the close of the year 1826, I was induced to visit the Beech Woods, in the north-eastern section of Pennsyl- vania. 1 journeyed thither, from Philadelphia, on foot, ta- king the river route through Newhope, Easton, and Strouds- burg. It was near Christmas when I started, yet no snow had fallen ; but, as I proceeded northerly, I found the ground to be covered with it, and its depth increased with *He is yet a preacher, in conrexion with the New Lights. OF A ITNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 49 each day's progress in that direction. About twenty miles from Newhope, I found a neighborhood of very intelligent and liberal-minded people, and with them I tarried and preached on the Sabbath. Some Hicksite Friends there had married Methodist wives, and the amalgamation had pro- ven beneficial in its influence on both parties; the formal coldness of the one had tempered the extravagant heat of the other, and had itself been warmed into some life and feeling in return. I often, subsequently, visited that neigh- borhood, and always was liberally received, and my meet- ings numerously attended. The Quaker part of the com- munity were pleased with my liberality of tone, and my rejection of pay for preaching. The Methodist part, with the identity of my faith and modes of worship with their own; and,beingwholly unsectarian, I excited the jealousy of neither, for I plead for no party in particular, but against the principle of party, in the general. I termed this the Williams' Settlement, from the prevalence therein of families of that name. My next stop was at Easton, a town containing about six thousand inhabitants, much the larger part of whom are Germans; and the country around, to a wide extent, is set- tled with farmers of the same nation. It is a very fertile and romantically beautiful region, and the town itself can have few rivals, in the United States, in the wildness and picturesqueness of its situation. It occupies a low delta, formed by the junction of the Lehigh and Delaware rivers, into the latter of which, an exquisitely romantic little stream, the Bushkill, debouches at the same place. There is great variety in the limestone bluffs and slopes by which Easton is environed ; on one of these bluffs is perched the Lafayette College, which overlooks the town from a height of two hundred feet. Methodism had then first begun to be proclaimed in Easton, and not small was the opposition it had to encounter. An old man named Waggoner, whose son was one of its earliest converts, on learning that a Methodist preacher had been in his house, left his bed in the night, and roamed half naked through the streets until morning, in a state of pious horror, bordering on delirium. The young man subsequently took me to see his father, but particularly enjoined me to make no disclosure of my profession. The father was sitting in his front parlor, at a very large tub, filled with corn, which he was shelling by hand. He was said to be worth $100,000 1 He strongly 50 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS reminded me of Mr. Muckrake, in the Pilgrim's Progress. How pitiable a sight was that! an old man, tottering on the brink of the grave, sacrificing his own and his family's comfort, to an insatiable desire for acquisition. Foremost among the Methodists of Easton, was one Hugh R., a man whose wild and turbulent extravagance would justify a strong degree of opposition to any cause with which he was identified. He courted opposition. In- deed, he seemed to think there was a particular merit in being persecuted. Among fanatics this opinion is a preva- lent one. Hugh was a lawyer, and brother to the then presiding Judge of that district. He had formerly been a Methodist preacher, but had — as the phrase goes amongst that people — " lost his religion." Being now re-washed, he was cleaner than ever ; so immaculate was he, indeed, that it was quite awful for common mortals to go into his presence; they must necessarily undergo, what Milton describes the arch-enemy to have experienced when re buked by the angel — " Abashed the devil stood, and felt How awful goodness is, and saw Virtue in its true shape how " But no, I cannot go on with the quotation, for, instead of being " lovely," which is the word wanting to com- plete the passage, Hugh's virtue was nearly as insuffer- ably disagreeable as vice itself. It was morose, captious, denunciatory, inquisitorial ; in short, it was all that is com- prehended in the term asceticism. He slept on straw, on his office floor. He stinted himself to a bread-and-mo- lasses-and-water-diet. He prayed, secretly, three times a day, loud enough to be heard all over the town, etc. To be hated by sinners he deemed an absolutely essential part of the christian character ; and to that source he very self-complacently charged all the ill-will which his extra- vagancies drew upon himself It puzzled him to reconcile, with my piety, the fact of all classes treating me with great politeness. The Sheriff granted me the use of the Court House for my meetings; a Lutheran minister tendered me his church for the same object; different classes of chris- tians invited me to their homes. " Ah ! young man," groaned out poor Hugh, " the devil is baiting his hook for you." "But, Mr. R." I remonstrated, "lam a stranger to all here. I come to them under the profession of a christian minister, and they treat me as such. If I am not OF A ITNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 51 what I seem, their courtesy towards me, at least, must be set down to the score of their respect for what I seem to be, for, allowing I am a bad man under this disguise, how can they possibly know that ?" " The devil could tell them^ young man," was his reply, in a raised voice, which, like hell's gates, in Milton, " grated harsh thunder." Alas ! for Hugh, in spite of all his austerities, he shortly afterwards " returned to his vomit again," and to his " wallowing in the mire," a consequence not unapt to follow the being " righteous over much." It is but just to say, that Hugh's character was not that of the Easton Methodists in gen- eral, for among them were some very amiable persons of both sexes. From Easton I obtained a sleigh-ride to Stroudsburg, passing through the Delaware Water Gap, where the mountain yawns to a depth of more than a thousand feet, and the chasm affords a passage to the river ; the rocky and jagged acclivities are so abrupt as to be nearly per- pendicular in places. I think that this tremendous gorge is but little inferior, in the wild grandeur of its scenery, to that at Harper's Ferry, in Virginia, which Jefferson says would compensate for a visit across the Atlantic. Strouds- burg is but a few miles from the Gap, and is a pleasant and picturesque village. I tarried over night with an elderly Methodist minister, Mr. C, to whom I had borne a letter of introduction. He had married a Quaker woman, of some property, and was living much at his ease in his mountain home. He was a companionable old gentleman, and related me the following incident : Preaching once, at a Quarterly Meeting, he strongly urged on the local preachers, who where present, the duty of branching out in their labors. His text was, Mark xvi. 20, " And they went forth, and preached everywhere, the Lord working with them, and confirming the word with signs following." Hence, he insisted, that preachers must not confine their labors to their particular localities, but must go forth, etc A blunt old minister present, who was also a great stickler for a travelling ministry, bawled out in the midst of the sermon, " Lord, open brother C.'s eyes, to see how the text hits himself, and smoke him out of the mountain!'''' The old gentleman had much to say against the government of his church ; he pronounced it unscriptural and oppressive. He, himself, who had spent much of his life in its service, was now, in his old age, denied an admission into the tra- m EXPERIENCE^ LABORS, AND TRAVELS veling connexion — which would entitle him to a pecuniary compensation — and could only act in the capacity of a 'local preacher. It was high time, he said, that so tyran- nical an establishment should be reformed, etc.* Proceeding northerly from Stroudsburg, the country be- came more and more wild, as I advanced. I soon found myself in the most desolate barrens conceivable, where, as I occasionally stopped to look around me from the summit of a hill, nothing met the view but a seemingly intermi- nable expanse of sterility. At length I got into the hea- vily timbered region termed the Beech Woods; and in all my previous conceptions of the wild and the gloomy in nature, I had never pictured to myself so huge, dense, savage, and rock-bestrewn a wilderness as then spread around me. I thought it impossible, as I endeavored to look into its deep shades almost impervious to the vision, that any human being could inhabit them. The novelty of the scene filled me with a wild and pleased excitement, under the influence of which I could fancy I heard the howl of the wolf, or the scream of the panther. My first night in those woods was spent at Howe's tavern, on the *' North and South turnpike," where, according to the cus- tom of new countries, some dozen or more, of both sexes, were lodged in one sleeping-apartment, and that the bar- room. I there begun to obtain insights into human life in its rude forms, corresponding to the savageness of sur- rounding nature. Leaving the turnpike next morning, I struck into a private path, which, after following for some three miles, brought me to the house of Mr. Bortree, to whom — from his son in Philadelphia — I had a letter of in- troduction. I subsequently found, that a stranger, without such passport, is abundantly welcome at every cabin throughout those woods. That same evening I went, with the family in their sleigh, to hear the circuit preacher. The ride over the snow, amidst the overarching hemlocks, and the passing of groups on foot who were lighting their way with straw torches, was a novelty of novelties to me. * Selt-interest is an eye-salve of marvelous properties. Two years afterwards I was again Mr. C.'s guest for a night. He had, meanwhile, obtained his wish with regard to admission into the traveling connexion. He had even — if T mistake not — been honored with a Presiding Eldership. He could now see no defect in the government of his church ; none whatever; it was as nearly per- fect as things mundane could be. , , .yg,,^j^,. OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 53 When arrived at the house, I was equally surprised at the company assembled for meeting; most of the men were there with Otter skin caps on, and whips in their hands. The women were generally bonnetless, with shawls or blankets over their heads, and a far larger sprinkling of children and dogs helped to make up the congregation than I had been accustomed to witness in a house of wor- ship. Bewildered with these novellies, I forgot to notice what the preacher was doing, until the words, " I am told there is a preacher here from Philadelphia," fell confu- sedly on my ear. I was wondering what this could mean, when, to my increased surprise, the man whom I had ac- companied to the meeting, arose, and gave me a formal introduction to the preacher in the hearing of all the con- gregation ! After this polite ceremonial, the clergyman requested me — on a plea of ill-health — to hold forth in his stead; and when, in compliance, 1 stepped up to the stand and divested myself of a shaggy bear-skin over coat, I looked so slender and boy-like, that I soon perceived my- self to be as much of a curiosity to the woods folks as they were to me. The subject of my discourse was that of Paul's preaching before Felix, on " righteousness, temper- ance, and judgment to come." I explained the "judg- ment to come," as pertaining to the future life, as a matter of course — as the most of orthodox expositors do — and for which they have the high and ample authority of their own opinion, backed by the consideration that Felix could not possible/ have been made to tremble in apprehension of an earthli/ judgment; certainly not. And then, moreover, a judgment of retribution in this world, even though/w^wr^, could not by possibility be a " judgment to come.'''' Thus the matter was settled past dispute. With much effort and watchfulness did I cultivate, in those days, a solemnity of feeling, for from nature I pos- sessed a buoyant heart, and a child-like playfulness of disposition, which, by evangelical christians, are held in- compatable with a true state of grace. I used therefore, when alone, to take myself seriously to task for every ebulition of mirthfulness in which I indulged in society. I used to pray, how ardently, God knows, for christian j?er- fection, which several persons of my acquaintance pro- fessed to have attained, and by virtue of which, some of them had lived, for years together, without sinning. A married lady of my acquaintance, in Philadelphia, whose 54 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS house I much frequented, had told me, in a solemn conver- sation, that this exhuberance of spirits was my besetting sin, and that by means of it the devil might yet ensnare me to my eternal ruin. " You have been converted,'''' said she; "of that I am certain; but conversion wont do in your case ; you must be sanctified. I know by experience that nothing but this will give you the solemnity of char- acter you need." But, then, how to get this sanctification was the difficulty. It required a particular knack, which I did not possess. It was not to be gradually acquired, but to come on one, in a heap, as the new birth is said to do. Some preachers were said to be curiously expert in con- ducting persons into the possession of this degree in grace ; but, for my part, I never could get sufficiently up to it to attain it myself. It was among the " things past finding out," to me. I remained in the woods during the residue of the win- ter, and till the middle of the spring following. My custom was to preach on several evenings of the week, as well as on the Sabbath. What my preaching was worth, I know not, but I can give the exact sum, in cyphers, that I got for it. I was, however, little affected by considerations of that sort. I even rejected contributions when offered me, and yet I had no known earthly resource I God help me! I was very green. I enjoyed in those woods, however, some delightful seasons ; some draughts, I may term them, from the chalice of heavenly bliss: many an hour have I sat reading my bible by the side of some brawling brook, or on some log in the silent depths of the forrest ; and in such situations, the soul can enjoy more pure communion with the Creator, than is usually experienced amidst the din of populous life. It was a favorite pastime with me to trace the courses of the rivulets, and in that region these are numerous, and most poetically pellucid and musical in their flow. But to trace them, was not — let me apprise you, reader — to glide unobstructedly along grassy banks, or a level pebbly beach ; far from it ; one had to climb over prostrate trees ; jump from rock to rock ; pick away through patches of bog-marsh, and break through briars. And if, for all this trouble, the companionship of birds and nimble-footed squirrels, and the now and then appearance of a deer, were not felt to be a sufficient compensation, why, doubtless, it was the fault of a spirit out of harmony with nature. To me, who had been a penned up prisoner OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 55 for the larger part of my life, the scenes and sounds, the very odours, even, of those sylvan solitudes, afforded a de- light which it might seem extravagant to describe. The summer and fall of 1827, I spent partly in Ken- sington, partly in Trenton, and partly in various parts of Bucks county. I also, occasionally, visited Lambertsville, Hopewell, and other places in that region. I formed ac- quaintance with several preachers who occupied my own ground relative to ecclesiastical organization ; these were generally denominated Gatesites, from one Theophilua Gates, of Philadelphia, who published a periodical called the Reformer. It went against all forms of church gov- ernment ; all ecclesiastical compacts ; against the pay- ing of clergymen, etc.; and this it did on purely conscien- tious principles; for Gates, I cannot doubt, was a very sincere christian. I can assert the same, with far less con- fidence, of a majority of those preachers I have alluded to, who professed to hold the same views. Generally, they were shrewd but very illiterate men, exceedingly wise in regard to the Revelations, and other mysterious parts of the sacred volume — they " understood all mysteries'' — the most part of which they interpreted as bearing against the ecclesiastical organizations of Christendom. These were the "Whore of Babylon;" the "Beast;" the "False Pro- phet;" and all else that is opprobrious. These men-of-all- knowledge were usually wretched shabbaroons in person ; they generally came to us, out at the elbows, and out of shirts ; but, as they could rant to perfection, and teach us some new pieces of doggerell psalmody, or new tunes for our old pieces, we usually welcomed them on the score of these rare qualifications; and during their stay the sisters would mend them up and replenish their stock of linen. They would then leave us, for the Lord knows where, and a new batch would swarm in from the Lord knows whence. Not unfrequently these prodigies would profess to have been supernaturally directed to visit us for our edification and comfort. One of these, by the name of Payne, used to preach on horseback, and, for the purpose of summoning a congregation about him, he carried a bugle in his girdle. He was subsequently murdered by some Indians in the far west, as the papers reported ; whether it was that his reli- gion was disrelished by the Indians, or that their cupidity was excited by his bugle and his horse, the account said not. 56' EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS ■ There once came to us a personage who called himself Yates. He had, he said, been long seeking among the sects, for a pure and unadulterated christian people, but finding none, he had become grieved in spirit, and begun to fear that, like Elijah of old, he was alone as a true worshiper of God, among the tens of thousands who were bowing the knee to Baal ; but in a dream, or vision, or some such thing, the Lord told him to direct his steps to- wards Kensington, and there he would find a society of Simon Pures, like himself. Poor Mr. Kennard placed such implicit faith in this account that he received Yates almost as one sent to him from heaven. He referred me to him as a pattern of sanctity, and recommended me to model my christian character by his ; " for," said he, " he is em- phatically a man of prayer ; when he walks the floor he is constantly singing hymns, with his eyes half closed, or roll- ed up in silent devotion," etc. " He 7nay be all he seems," I replied, " but it is none the more likely for so much seeming." Well, for a little while Yates sailed along with a favora- ble breeze. He went to Attleboro, and by dint of out- ranting all who had ever ranted there before, he got up a revival. In the midst of it, he married one of the con- verts, a widow, with some property. The property he contrived to squander as fast as possible. He plunged deeply into debt, and then eloped in the night, leaving both his debts and his wife behind him. The next we heard of Yates, was from Wheeling, Va., where he had just served another widow in a similar way. A Wheeling paper ex- posed him in an article, headed, " Widows beware of a Scoundrel !" In this article was an account of the seve- ral names and characters he had assumed, at different places, and a catalogue of his living wives. The fellow had wives enough to stock a harem for a bashaw of seve- ral tails. So much for this model of piety. Late in the fall of this year I made a second visit to the Beech Woods, and continued there through another winter, I became strangely attached to that rude region ; if the reader has ever seen it, he will not much admire my taste, methinks, yet to me its very ruggedness constituted its principal charm ; it was a realization of scenes of romance which my early reading had strongly impressed on my fancy. Those tall and gloomy hemlocks, in the twilight depths of whose shades so many pellucid streamlets have" OF A ITNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 57 their birth. How I loved to stroll in their recesses, where it seemed I could be more alone with God than it was pos- sible to be elsewhere. Yet this fancy for solitary ramb- ling in those dim solitudes, cost me no little fatigue and suffering at times. I was more than once lost for many hours together, and to be lost totally was a thing easily possible to one as ignorant of woods life as I was ; in a wilderness, where, in some directions, one might wander for scores of miles without coming to a human habitation. I arrived about nine o'clock, one night, in a very ex- hausted and battered condition, at the cabin of a Mr. Kipp, OTi whom I was in the habit of calling. His wife, who was a woman of a mirthful disposition, fell to laughing im- moderately when she saw my plight, for she knew I had been lost ; and she herself, together with a neighboring woman, had experienced a similar fate only the day before, and in the same woods. They, indeed, had fared worse than I, for after wandering about for several hours, they had, by the merest accident, barely succeeded in getting back by night to the house from whence they had started. Their husbands, meanwhile, alarmed at their non-return, were out in search of them the livelong night with dogs, horns, and straw torches. These women had often before been over the same ground, but in this instance a wind had prostrated several of the hlaized trees, and they thus lost the clue by which they were accustomed to trace their way. The same circumstance had occasioned my losing myself, but, I must own, that I was so indifferent a woods- man, and so given to musing withal, that it was no hard matter for me to get lost under any circumstances. On tliat occasion I had been lost since eight o'clock in the morning; for some hours of that tin^ I had been entan- gled in an extensive thicket of laurels, from which I had, at one moment seriously despaired of ever extricating my- self. They would entangle themselves about my limbs ; twist round my neck and body, and, by their extreme elas- ticity, jerk me in every direction. For a considerable time I was on my hands and knees, endeavoring thus to make my way through the loop-holes formed by their bending trunks ; but whether I was making progress in any given direction, or in a circle, I had no means of ascer- taining. At length I climbed up a tall young tree, to see how far the thicket extended, and in what direction escape from it was most practicable ; but so faint was I from long 58 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS fasting, and these arduous exertions, that I could not main- tain my position on the tree long enough to look around me ; so I let myself down, and relaxing my efforts in de- spair, I sat down on a log and gave way to murmuring thoughts. "My lot in life is a very hard one," thought I; " it has been little else than a series of hardships from the cradle — a lonely orphan — with no remembrance of a mother's holy love, nor a father's protecting care ; where ever I go I find all others to be linked by bonds of rela- tionship to the rest of humanity : but by what tie am I united I I am a being by myself — a sole link without a place in the chain. Oh that I had but a brother's compan- ionship! a sister's sweet affection! but neither of these, alas ! has it been my lot to enjoy." And tears, copious, scalding tears, began to course down my cheek, as I thus dwelt repiningly upon the loneliness and desolation of my orphan life. It was but a momentary dejection, however, for it happened that at that instant the sullen clouds which had concealed the sun all day, and sent down a chilling drizzle that had wet me to the skin, now slightly disparted toward the western horizon, and a gleam of sunshine fell on the log upon which I sat. In a moment my melancholy was dispelled ; the current of my thoughts was changed. "I am not an orphan, after all," I mentally exclaimed; " I have a Father in the skies, and his love is greater than a mother's, sister's, brother's ; it is more than all the world to me." Have I ever, my gracious God, doubted thy pa- ternal and ever-watchful presence with me since l The courage which this new train of thought inspired, stimu- lated me to renewed exertions, whereby I was enabled — as I have said — to reach my destination, although at a late hour, and in a sadly bruised and exhausted condition. When doubt oppress'd my sinking heart, Soon did my Father's smiles impart, A healing balm. He whisper'd, and my sorrows fled — *' Peace! peace my tremb'ling son!" he said, And all was calm. Since that sweet hour my heart has been The home of hope, of joy serene, And heavenly rest. I see my Father's wings outspread. In shelt'rlng kindness o'er my head^ And I am blest. OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 59 CHAPTER VI. Becomes the Pastor of a Society in Philadelphia — Something of fe- male preachers — Divine calls — Secret prayers in public places, etc. — Adopts free opinions in religion, and makes a third visit to the Woods. In the early part of the summer following my second visit to Beech Woods, (1828,) I accepted a settlement at Spring Garden, Philadelphia, with a small but interest- ing society of Independent Methodists. Mr. Kennard was then deceased, and his church in Kensington had cho- sen for his successor, a man who had, till then, been a minister of the Christian denomination. Many doubted whether his religious faith was the same as his predeces- sor's — for the Christian denomination is known to be Arian, — but he maintained it was, and, although some dis- satisfaction existed toward him from a suspicion of his sincerity, yet in the main the church continued united, and still retained its isolated position with regard to other sects. Between it and the church of which I had become pastor there was no ecclesiastical union, although they perfectly agreed both in faith and form of government. At that time there existed no such christian body as that now denominated Protestant Methodist. The individu- als who originally composed that sect, were then, the most of them, within the pale of the Methodist Episcopal church, and were essaying peaceably to effect a reformation in its form of government. Some small parties, however, had withdrawn from that church, on the ground of the oppres- siveness of its polity, and had formed themselves into inde- pendent societies. It was not until 1829, that the Metho- dist Protestant church was constituted, and the church to which I ministered became then an integral part of that body. I, however, retaining still my anti-sectarian preju- dices, refused to go into the compact, and thus my con- nexion with it was dissolved. The mania for preaching — so prevalent among certain classes of christians — on the part of persons destitue of every requisite for the business, was often a source of annoyance to me in my capacity of pastor of a society. They would plead a divine call, and how could I gainsay 60 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS that ? Now this business of a divine call is what I never believed in, otherwise than as such call may be inferred from the possession of the requisite talents and disposi- tions on the part of those who wish to engage in the min- istry. My pulpit was several times occupied by females who claimed to be the subjects of a call. They were either greatly mistaken, or they had been called to very little purpose. Nevertheless, as it always insured a full house to give out that a sister would preach, we always yielded to this class of claimants. There came once a genteel widow to make her debut in our church as a preacher; she was a resident of New York, and bore a letter to me which gave her a high character. She told me God had called her a long while before, and that she believed that much of the trouble she had since experi- enced, was a judgment on her for disobeying the divine vocation. I gave her my views on that point with great frankness. I questioned her as to the form in which the call came — whether audibly, or by an impression on her mind. She could give no intelligible account of the matter ; yet she was sure of the fact itself. " I have examined my heart," she said, " to make sure that it was not a tempta- tion from the devil, but I have no reason to think it is, for what selfish motive can I have to gratify ? It cannot be to secure a pecuniary support, for I am already in easy circumstances. Fame is not my object, for that I never coveted. Neither can it be a desire to roam about, for my home attachments are uncommonly strong. What then can it be ?" As I wished to be perfectly honest with her, and have her so with herself, 1 asked her in all simplicity, whether a desire to get a clerical husband, or a husband, at least, of high standing in the church, might not be her motive. O ! dear, no ! Such a thought was far from her. She would never think of marrying again, under any cir- cumstances, etc. Well, I gave up the pulpit to her for a Sabbath evening, and the experiment satisfied her that she had mistaken her vocation. She returned to New York, and gave evidence by uniting her hand and fortune with those of a local preacher shortly afterwards, thaft she had no thought whatever of marrying — not the least. The most outrageous maltreatment of Scripture and English to which I ever listened, was from a tall and gaunt Yorkshireman, who, in spite of all efforts to pre- vent him, took forcible possession of the pulpit at Spring OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 61 Garden, and bored us with what he termed a " discoorse." His subject was the Prodigal Son. In describing the Pro- digal's leave-taking of his family he went deeply into the pathetics. " We behoold 'im," said he, in a half-crying, lugubrious tone, " taking a last fare-a-well of 'is faather, and a last fare-a-well of 'is moother, and a last fare-a-well of 'is seesther, and a last fare-a-well of 'is broother, and a last fare-a-well of 'is hooncle," and so on through the family connexions. He then described his hero's pro- gress in dissipation; and here his oratorical powers had fine scope. He made him to start from "ome" in a coach and six — then he sells one pair of " orses" after another to pay his gambling accounts, (very graphic.) "I see 'im, in my fancy's mind as it weer," said he, " driving from ball-room to ball-room, and from theatre to theatre, and from coort to coort ; he rolls about in colussiousness end ubiquity, and perseweers onwards without a dimning veil between." Upon my veracity, reader, this was his exact language. I know not but I should have wept from pure mortification, had it not been that an opposite pro- pensity was brought into exercise by the circumstance of a negro dropping in, and taking his seat directly fronting me. Cuffy seemed in great doubt whether the gibberish to which he was listening was a violent assault upon hon- e.st English, or whether it belonged to a higher and more magnificent style of oratory than he was accustomed to. In his perplexity to decide this point he would roll his large whites towards me, ever and anon, in order to gather from my countenance what I thought of it all. For my part, I was in perfect torture during the whole time, from a hard contest between my risible and lachrymal organs. My stand against sectarianism brought me into intimacy with Theophilus Gates, who published the Reformer. He was, as I have before hinted, very sincere in tlie war- fare which he waged against the real and fancied evils and corruptions of Christendom, and though he used against these things the severest language of denunciation, yet I know him to have been one of the meekest and most inof- fensive of men. It was his misfortune that he was prone to confine his view of things to their darker aspects. Phrenologically speaking, his organ of hope was small. Hence he v/as perpetually looking that the vials of wrath in the Revelations should be poured out upon the chris- tian world, to purge it of the corruptions he deplored. In 62 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, jLND TRAVELS these dark forebodings it was not in my nature to sympa- thize; I ever had too much sunshine in my heart to admit of my being a prophet of evil.'*' I will not assert that there is a necessary connection between starvation and heresy — although beyond a doubt, the latter has often drawn the former in its train — ^but I will assert, that whilst I lived at Spring Garden, I volunta- rily limited myself to the smallest allowance of food com- patible with the support of nature, and I also at the same time became heretical in respect to several points of faith. My motive for abstinence was that I might study to better effect ; considerations of economy had nothing to do with it, for my board cost me nothing. My diet was a small slice of bread, spread with molasses, and a cup of weak tea without cream. This three times a day. The effect of a perseverence for six months in this course of liv- ing was, that it made me quite indifferent to food ; inso- much that, so far as mere gratification was concerned, I could forego it altogether. I have good reason to assert this, for the lady with whom I boarded was a bountiful liver, and took all means to tempt me to indulge in the pleasures of the table, but without effect. That I was ad- vantaged by this low living I will not assert. I think it doubtful. When unwell, however, I still practice absti- nence for a day or two at a time, and never fail to expe- rience a benefit from it. I became a heretic on some points, I have said. First, with regard to prayer. I had often heard Methodist preachers tell their hearers, that if they would single out an individual, and make his conversion an object of special and persevering prayer, God would be sure to convert him. And that too, be it observed, whether the individual knew of such prayer being offered on his behalf or not. This set me to reflecting, thus. They say God does all he consistently can do, for the salvation of all men. If, then, he will do more for the individual prayed for than he otherwise would, does he not do more than he consistently *When I last heard of poor Gates, ho had become a religious mo- nomaniac. He fancied that all human government is wrong — civil, as well as ecclesiastical — that it is wrong for christians to hold property by private title — that all should be in common among them, even to wives, if I have not been misinformed. How care- fully should fanaticism be guarded against in its incipiency ! since, like all evils that beset poor humanity, it is dreadfully progressive. OF A UNIVEESALIST PREACHER. 63 can do, in his case ? And moreover how does it agree with the notion of free agency, for God to convert an individual at the instance of others, rather than that of the indivi- dual himself ? Account how you will, rationally, for God''s directly converting a man, you cannot make it compati- ble with free agency. Does he act by a direct energy on the man's will ? He must, then, either impart this energy in sufficient amount to induce a willingness to be converted, or in an insufficient amount. In the latter case, he might as well impart none at all ; for the object cannot be ac- complished by insufficient means. In the former case, it is the imparted energy that induces the volition to be con- verted ; not the will itself. The will, then, as a matter of course, is not free, and the agency exerted by a will not free, is not free agency. As to the privacy of prayer — as expressly enjoined by the Savior — I early became very averse to its violation in any form, or under any pretext. Even as early as the time of my living atSweedsboro,I was so conscientious on this head, that, having slept with the old shouting preach- er before described — whom I knew to be watching me for evil — I yet omitted to pray in my chamber on rising in the morning, from a conviction that it was wrong to do so in the presence of a fellow mortal. Well, I thus incurred, as I knew I should, the old preacher's rebuke for an alleg- ed neglect of duty. "Some of. you, who profess to be christians," said he, in his sermon of that forenoon, " are so base and ungrateful, as to rise from your beds of a morning without thanking God for preserving you through the night. This very morning,'''^ he continued — casting, at the same time, an indignant glance towards me — " some of you have wickedly neglected this duty ; you knoio you havCy and yet you pretend to be christians. Shame on you 1" etc. I never undeceived the old man as to the truth of the matter, but the Searcher of all hearts, and the Seer of all secret things, knew that the old preacher was mis- taken, so far as his censure was meant to apply to me. And how comes it to pass, that Christ's injunction on this point is so grossly disregarded by christians '? On coming into church, the Methodist usually bows his head on the back of the bench before him, and engages — so, at least, the action is meant to say — in secret devotion ! The clergyman stands some minutes with his hat before his eyes, or he drops for a f^w moments on his knees, and he •04 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS also is engaged in private prayer ! The Episcopalian priest — who does all these matters up in a genteel way — ascends the rostrum ; drops daintily into a kneeling posi- tion on a cushioned stool ; gathers his robe into a graceful festoon at each elbow, and bowing his forehead on the delicately white and nicely folded handkerchief, which he holds at an angle convenient for the purpose, he, too, en- gages in private prayer in presence of the whole assem- bly ! In the name of piety, what meaneth this ? Is this entering into the closet and shutting the door ? or is it not, rather, praying to be seen of men 1 Is it not an ad- vertisement to all present, to take note that a private prayer is being offered ? I speak not in this case of the intention of the supplicant ; I judge it not ; I will even admit it sincere ; but is Christ's command, touching the secrecy of prayer, obeyed ? That is all. During one of my visits to the Beech Woods, another clergyman and myself were put to lodge in the same room. Previous to undressing he dropped on his knees by the bedside. I did not. What I should have done if I had been alone, the reader shall be informed, when it be- comes his business to know and mine to tell. SujSice it to say that I went to bed without. When he had got through, and had come to bed, he inquired with some surprise, ** Don't you pray, brother ?" " You must excuse me from answering," I replied. "Do ?/om.?" "Do /.' " he rejoined, " why, what do you think I was doing on my knees f " Indeed I can't tell," said I. " Can't tell ! why," said he, " you surprise me." " No doubt I do," was my an- swer, " yet I very sincerely mean what I say ; I know not what you were doing on your knees ; what the posture implies, so far as observers are concerned, i know ; it im- plies an advertisement that you were praying." " Well, and was I not ?" he asked. " God only knows," was my reply. At which he was evidently nettled, until I ex- plained to him that it was far from my purpose to ques- tion his sincerity, but that as he had fallen into a practice that the Master had expressly forbidden, I could not in conscience conform to it, whatever might be thought of my piety on that account. " What, then, shall be done," he asked, " when two or more lodge in one room ? Shall they forego prayer altogether, for fear of being seen by each other ?" " No. They have other alternatives," said I ; " either, they can unite in the exercise, in which case OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 66 it becomes social, and does not fall within the injunction to secrecy — or, as in God's eye attitude is nothing, they can each send up his soul in silent devotion to heaven while lying in his bed, quite as acceptably — the circum- stances considered — as if he were on his knees." I am sorry to disgust the reader by stating, that notwithstand- ing this explicit explanation of my views, this man reported me to be an enemy to secret prayer. The clergyman who succeeded Mr. Kennard, at Ken- sington, had formerly been, as before said, a Christian. Several ministers of that denomination visited Kensington during his ministry there, by whose means Arianism be- gan to manifest its prevalence in that church, as also in the Methodist and Presbyterian churches of that district. This circumstance led to a request on the part of Rev. Mr. Chandler, Presbyterian, that I would lecture in his church in defence of the Trinity, on a particular Sabbath. I had several times before occupied Mr. Chandler's desk, and I readily complied with his request on that occasion, for I was a zealous stickler for the Trinity, and was rather fond, moreover, of polemical disquisitions. I acquitted myself of the task assigned me to the best of my ability, and had the satisfaction of satisfying Mr. Chandler, who thanked me warmly for the service I had rendered to the truth, and pronounced my discourse irrefutable. Will the reader believe me ! That very night I went to bed a Unitarian ! Yes, I relinquished, after a candid review of two or three hours duration, a doctrine I had been taught to regard as an essential item in the christian system ; the very keystone of its supporting arch ; and I adopted in its stead a tenet which is denounced as one of the worst of heresies ! Does the reader doubt my sincerity in this matter ? Let me tell him, then, that the presumption should ever be in favor of the moral honesty of a man who leaves the orthodox ranks, and attaches himself to _a small and proscribed party; provided, always, that his diaracter and prospects stood fair in his former position. The reverse holds with regard to those who leave a sect termed heretical and attach themselves to an orthodox church ; they go over to the popular, the influential, the wealthy side ; they escape the odium theologicum which at- tached to them in their former relations, and so many are the selfish motives which may be conceived to have influ- enced them to change, that the presumption against their 166 EXPERIENCE, LABOES, AND TRAVELS sincerity must necessarily be strong in all reflecting minds. It is possible, nevertheless, for a man to be actu- ated by base motives in the former case, and by conscien- tious ones in the latter ; albeit, it must be owned that it is but barely possible. My change of views took place as follows : I had seen, in my congregation that day, some Unitarians, with whom I was on a footing of intimacy. I had observed them ta- king notes, and I knew they would not fail to put me to the proof of my positions at the first opportunity, where I should not, as in the pulpit, have the argument all to my- self. So, to be prepared for these gentry, I sat down in my chamber before retiring to rest, and, one by one, I reviewed my arguments in juxtaposition with the objec- tions I conceived they would bring against them. Alack ! under this searching process, argument after argument faded away into mist ! I saw, that for this important item of my creed, I could, in very deed, urge nothing but forced and inconsequential inferences. If I was startled by this discovery, I was more so when I came to consider the evidence on the other side. As, for instance, the strict unity of the Godhead, as everywhere inculcated in the Scriptures. The jealous care with which the Jews were guarded against the notion of a plurality of Gods. The fact that they were in no instance informed that God is three, but invariably that he is one. Their consequent utter ignorance respecting a trinity. The absence of all pretension, on Christ''s part, to any dignity beyond what arose from his relation to God as a Son. His repeated avowal of inferiority to and dependance on the Father. The fact, that in no recorded case was a candidate for ad- mission to the church required to believe either in the Trinity, or the supreme Godhead of Christ, but simply to confess Jesus as the Messiah. The absence of all allusion to such a doctrine by the Apostles in their preaching and writing, save as it may be doubtfully inferred from a few texts of questionable signification. The infinitely closer aflnnity of this doctrine with heathen polytheism, than with the Divine unity as taught in the sacred oracles. The absurd consequences, moreover, inseperable from the notion that Christ is God in the supreme sense ; as in that case, *' Our Lord Jesus Christ," is also " the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ" — in other words, the God and Father of himself ! If Christ is the Supreme OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 67 Jehovah, then the Supreme Jehovah is Christ; and as Christ was born, put to death, buried, etc., the Supreme Jehovah was bom, put to death, and buried 1 Christ was begotten of the Father; but if Christ is the Father — and such he must be if he is Jehovah — then, undeniably, he was begotten by himself, he prayed to himself! he raised himself from the dead ! he ascended to himself, and sat on his own right hand; was a mediator between himself and man ! Then the unchangeable God, who was once pure spirit, became also corporeal ! He who was once wholly Divine — and changeth not — became also human ! etc., etc. When considerations of this kind rushed on my mind, I was overwhelmed. I wondered how it was possi- ble I had not thought of them before ; and the Savior, in the language of gentle remonstrance, seemed to say to me, " Poor blind mortal ! have I not in my word most ex- plicitly declared to you, my Father is greater than I !" Well, there, forever, ended my Trinitarianism, and I went to bed that night a believer in the doctrine which I had that day exerted my utmost efforts of argument to refute. This was my first great step in heresy. Alas 1 when once fairly loosed from the moorings of educational prejudice, who can prescribe limits to the mind's discoveries ? I had detected myself to be fallible in one point of faith — why might I not be equally so in others ? My range of thought being now materially widened, I read the Bible with new eyes. I was not long blind to the fact so clearly taught therein, that Christ's mission and death had for their object the reconcilation of the world unto God, and not, as creeds teach, of God unto the loorld. I looked in vain through the New Testa- ment for a solitary sanction to the popular dogma, that Jesus died to appease the divine wrath — to cancel the de- mands of divine justice against man — to make it possible for God to extend his clemency to sinners, and the like ; the Bible I found is wholly innocent of any such teaching; that, on the contrary, it uniformly represents the mission and death of Christ as manifesting God's love to man — not as satisfying his vengeance. So I advanced another step in heresy. Who is it that has said, " a wise man may often change his opinions, but a fool never will ?" Whoever he is, I am vastly obliged to him for enabling me to range myself in so respectable company. My next advance was to 68 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS review the doctrine of native and total depravity. In behalf of that doctrine I had read Fletcher''3 Appeal to matter of fact and Common Sense, and Wesley's Reply to Dr. Taylor on Original Sin. The former — although lav- ishly praised by Methodist's — I always regarded as an ap- peal to j^rejudice rather than to common sense, and it really i5 nothing more. Of the latter I judged more favorably, but I had never seen Dr. Taylor's work, and could there- fore not decide on the merit of Wesley's review of it. On the other side, indeed, I had never read anything, until Letters to Wilberforce, by a Layman, fell into my hands^ and I then could not but perceive that the entire weight of Scripture, reason, and fact, was incontestibly against the popular dogma. I am at a loss for terms that will suitably convey my detestation of that dogma. Of all the absurd errors that perverted human intellect ever generated, it strikes me that none will compare with it in point of beastiality. If true, the infant that nes- tles in its mother's bosom is, morally, as foul as the devil himself; for he can be no more than totally depraved. I found, indeed, that the text in Genesis, on which, main- ly, this doctrine leans for support, affords a refutation of it rather than gives it countenance. God drowned the old world because of the utter wickedness of its inhabitants. But, pray, if what was said of them is equally true of all humanity, viz : " that the immagination of the thoughts of their hearts was only evil continually," why was any pari of the race preserved ? If all human nature was thus evil, Noah and his family, being parts of that nature, were also evil ; and the race which should spring from them to re-people the world, being of the same evil nature as the race destroyed, would, of course, furnish equal reasons for another deluge. This is too obvious for argument. A farmer would be most unwise, who, finding his premises to be overrun with shrubs of a poisonous nature, should con- tent himself with merely mowing them down, without extracting the evil roots from which a like growth of poi- sonous shrubs must necessarily spring up. If it be said, "But Noah and his family were righteous, and were thus exceptions to the general state of mankind;" I reply, that as the generations since the flood have sprung from that righteous stock, the notion of their total depravity by vir- tue of a descent from Adam falls to the ground. Thus we see that the text in Genesis was only applicable to the OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. $9 particular generation that were cut off. They were not said to have been sinful by nature, but to have " corrupt- ed their way;" which implies a departure from natural rectitude. The very history of the fall, shows~that it entailed not total depravity, for the fruit of the interdicted tree imparted a knowledge of good as well as of evil. *' Behold, the man has become like one of us, knowing good and evil." By what unheard-of alchymy divines have transmuted these two qualities into the one of evil only, it will, methinks, overtask their ingenuity to explain. Well, having become a heretic while yet the pastor of an orthodox church, what then ? Did I at once avow ray opinions ? Did I covertly preach them ? Or, did policy prevail over conscience, and 1 continue to advocate views I no longer believed ? I did neither. I had yet several topics on which I could descant from the pulpit with the consent of my own understanding and the approval of the congregation. I still believed in several of the essentials of an evangelical faith ; in a personal devil, for instance ; a supernatural new birth; a general judgment after death; and the endless punishment of the wicked. In these most essential points I was still orthodox. It may be neverthe- less that 1 should not have kept my heresy a secret, for, phrenologically speaking, my secretiveness is far from being a very prominent organ : but I was saved the un- pleasantness of disclosing my change of sentiments by the circumstance, which occurred about that time, of the society merging itself in the newly organized Radical Methodist church. This dissolved my connection with it, for, although I had advised the society to that measure, I yet declined going personally into it, because of my anti- sectarian position. It turned out, however, that a majority of the society, when they found that they were about to lose their pastor by this amalgamation, insisted on retract- ing the measure, and retaining me in my former relation. It was with great reluctance — as God is witness — and not without very earnest solicitation, that I consented to be a party to this retrograde movement; and as my conduct in the matter must necessarily have appeared inconsistent to those unacquainted with the peculiar circumstances which induced it, and as these pages will be likely to fall under the eye of some of those, I will, for their information, state those circumstances. It is known to them, that during my stay at Spring Gar- 70 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS den, I boarded with a most benevolent widow, named Hes- ter Bain. Being childless, and having lost an only son, who, had he lived to that" time, would have been just of my age and borne a close resemblance to me, as the old lady thought, it was natural that a maternal fondness in my favor should have grown up in her breast during the twelve months of my residence with her. She had a com- petent income, and did for me, without charge, all that I could have expected from her had I been her son; in- deed, my happiness seemed a principal object of her care; and, as she was of a very affectionate nature, her attach- ment to me acquired a strength of which I became most painfully conscious when I came to part with her. There were also others in the society, who ascribed their conver- sion to my instrumentality, with whom I found it a painful matter to part. In short, it was decided that I must re- main with them. We should hold our meetings in Mrs, Bain's suit of parlors, until by an increase of our numbers — ^which all were sure would be certain to ensue — we should be enabled to procure a regular place of worship; and we should then be a happy little body of believers, accountable to God alone for our faith and forms of ser- vice, and independent of all the rest of Christendom. A pleasant dream enough. From the above account it may be seen with what fa- cility, and by what trivial chances, parties are multiplied in the Christian church. For my part, I was far from being inwardly at ease in this isolated and responsible posi- tion. If what the poet, Cowper, saith, be true, that " God gives to every man The virtue, talents, understanding, taste, That lift him into life, and let him fall Just in the nich he was ordained to fill," it is certain I never was ordained to fill the niche of a party leader, for I possess neither the talents nor the in- clination for such a business. Besides, my opinions were then in a transition state, and I could not foresee upon what system of faith I was eventually to settle down. Under these circumstances preaching became an irksome task to me, because I could advance none of the leading orthodox doctrines with entire confidence. I therefore adopied the expedient of asking leave of absence for two months, which was granted, and I left the city for a third visit to the Beech Woods. OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 71 I made a stop of a week on the way, in the Quakero- Methodist neighborhood aforementioned — the William's Settlement — where a most lamentable affair had transpired a little while previous. A respectable widow, who kept a public house on the river shore, had a lovely daughter named Mary; she was betrothed to a young man in the neighborhood, who died on the very day that had been fixed on for their nuptials. Poor Mary had more heart than philosophy, and the latter proved too weak for her hard fortune. She lost her reason. The fact was first indicated by her frequent visits to her lover's grave, on which she would prostrate herself and talk to its uncon- scious tenant; now gently upbraiding him for his nonap- pearance on the day affixed for their wedding, and anon expatiating on the happiness they should ere long enjoy together. It was deemed necessary to confine her to the house, at length, lest she should come to harm. In this condition of affairs, a traveler stopped at the Inn one day and ordered dinner. He was about seating himself to it, when the Deputy Sherifi" of the county, also, stopped for the same purpose, and wished it got in haste. " As you seem to be in a hurry, sir," said the traveler, " which is not at all the case with me, I will resign my place to you with great pleasure, and wait till another dinner can be prepared." The Deputy thankfully acquiesced in this arrangement, and devoted himself to his meal without de- lay. While he was thus engaged, the very complaisant traveler walked leisurely out, unhitched the Deputy's horse from the post before the door, mounted him, crossed to the Jersey shore by a ford near by, and made a clean escape with his prize I Cool — was it not ? The confu- sion produced amongst the people of the Inn by this affair, was great, as may well be supposed; but they were doomed to be still worse confounded by what shortly fol- lowed. Poor Mary had sense enough left her to seize the opportunity this circumstance afforded, for executing a design against her own life. Unobserved by the family, she went to a large tub of water which stood near the kitchen door, and, kneeling down, she bowed her head into it, and held it there till life was extinct 1 Was ever suicide more strangely effected? Deep and universal in the neighborhood was the grief on Poor Mary's account; nevertheless, a Methodist minis- ter of the district refused to minister at her burial ! God 72 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS forgive the bigot, and grant he may never have done worse things ! And yet, was he not right in so refusing? For, what consolation could he have afforded in a case of this kind? None — none whatever. According to his stern creed there are depths of human guilt to which the arm of infinite grace cannot reach down, and the poet is a trifle mistaken who saith, that — " Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal ;" for, according to the creed of endless wo, there are many such sorrows; for, can Heaven heal the wo of a mother whose daughter is eternally damned? Is there a balsam in the dispensary above for the heart, when the object of its ineradicable affection is screaming in waves of flame? Mary's sad story wrung from my muse the following verses, which, I must own, say little for the exact sound- ness of my orthodoxy at the time, on more points than I have above specified. Mary, a stranger hears How closed thy sad young life below, His muse is all in tears, And strikes her harp to notes of wo. Thy beauty met with early blight, Soon set thy sun in sorrow's night. How like a timorous thing Thy spirit bursts its bars of clay. And fled with hasty wing From this censorious world away. Thou ill couldst brook life's storms to brave, So fled'st unlicensed to the grave. Say, in that hour of gloom, What was thy bosom's weight of grief, That thou should'st seek the tomb As the sole refuge for relief ? Had'st thou not heard of Heaven's sweet grace, That can all guilt — all woes efface? Fond man too often scorns The tender friend in mercy given, To smooth his path of thorns Through this brief life of sin, to heaven. He oft a worthless object proves, Man never loved as woman lovea. Oh ! had thy case transpired In time of Rome's or Greece's glory, 'Twould then be much admired, And blazoned forth in classic story. And learned fools had sought to raise Their fame, by spouting in its praiie. OF A TJNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 7S Haply some future day, 'Twill yet become a theme of Pong, And many a rustic lay, Poor Mary's mem'ry may prolong. And swains, and rural nymphs, may plight Their vows b«side thy grave, by night. I will for thee appeal From the harsh judgment of the world, It has no heart to feel. Its censures are at random hurl'd. Thy cause is in the court above. Whose King's thy Father, and his name is Love. In that neighborhood, I was made acquainted with ano- ther interesting case, which I will relate, for the light it throws on the utility of signing Temperance pledges; albeit this was some time before Temperance societies came into vogue. There had lived in that vicinity an English- man of great and varied talents, and a turn for mathe- matics and the mechanic arts; in short, he was well quali- fied to be a useful man, and to make a fortune for himself. Unfortunately, however, he was a slave to the demon Alcohol; and in his drunken debauches he squandered all the earnings of his sober intervals. Aware of the evils he was bringing on himself, he went, at length, to a neighboring Justice of the Peace, and made an oath be- fore him in due form of law that he would wholly abstain from intoxicating drinks for one year. He kept his oath inviolate, but at the end of the term relapsed into his former course. After indulging for awhile, he went again and renewed his oath for two years : and he was equally faithful to this pledge as to the former. But, alas ! he again relapsed, and, after all, went down before his natural time to a drunkard's grave ! Suppose, now, that Temperance societies had then existed, this man would doubtless have pledged himself to abstain for life, and thus one useful member had been saved to society. On the first Sunday after my third arrival in the Beech Woods, I attended a Quarterly Meeting, held by a society of Protestant Methodists which had been recently formed. By request of the stationed minister, I delivered the open- ing sermon,- after which, he arose and informed the con- gregation that they all, without distinction, were welcome to be present at the Quarterly Meeting which would suc- ceed to the religious services; "for we," said he, "unlike the old Methodists, have no secrets which we wish to keep 6 74 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS from the people, but transact our business openly and before the world; therefore, let all attend who can." Now, this invitation excited in the audience no small de- gree of curiosity. They could not comprehend the value of it, for they had been accustomed to consider the reli- gious services accompanying a Quarterly Meeting as con- stituting the Quarterly Meeting itself; and they wero therefore at a loss what to make of the liberal-seeming welcome thus accorded to them. So a little, old, decrepid, polite, intelligent, but very sputtering Englishman arose. '*Sir, we are very much obliged to you," said he, "for your kind invitation; but, may I beg to be informed, sir, vvhat a Quarterly Meeting is ? for I supposed, sir, that we were already at a Quarterly Meeting." And he stood awaiting the information he asked for. " Father Bortree,''' said the preacher, " get up and explain to the people the nature of a Quarterly Meeting." This was to an aged Irishman, who having been nearly all his life a Methodist, was regarded as an oracle in all that concerned Method- ism. " VVal," said father Bortree, "a Quarterly Maat- ing in Ireland, with huz, they used to begin on the Friday, and" — " Hoot! hoot, man 1" broke in another Irish- man, some six feet and as many inches long, Clemens by name, who was a general and privileged bore, but took special delight in boring father Bortree — or ' Robin,' as he termed him — in particular, " don't you see, man, that the people are waiting til hear from you what a Quarter- ly Maating hez? What signifies telling them about Ire- land ?" " Wal, wal," resumed father Bortree, "have patience and Til tal them. As I was saying, in Ireland with huz" — "Hoot, Robin I Tut, man !" again broke in his long countryman, " why but ye tal the people what it hez, man? The divil a haaporth do they care about Ire- land. Just stick til the point, and tal them what it hez.^ " Wal, WAL, WAL," impatiently resumed the tormented father Bortree, " have patience, wul ye? and I'll tal them what it hez. In Ireland they used to begin" — " Hoot,, toot, toot I arent ye ashamed now ? fie, Robin !" a third time interrupted the incorrible Clemens; "why, man, dount ye see the paaple waiting on ye for information foment a Quarterly Maating ? Why but ye gov it til them at once, widout any of yer kalavers ? Tal them what it hez, m an, and be done wid it." All this time the little Englishman stood, in a meek attitude, awaiting an explanation of tb^ OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER 76 matter. Father Bortree again commenced, and, as before, was proceeding to tell when such meetings begun in Ireland, how long they continued, etc., when his torment- or, looking him earnestly in the face the while and making sundry signs of impatience, once more broke him off with his petulent monosylables. "Hoot, hoot, hoot! I am ashamed of the father's son of ye, Robin ! that ye can't spaak til the point no better nor that comes to — fie upon the likes of ye ! de'il a haaporth do the paaple care what's done in Ireland,'" etc., etc., till poor father Bortree was fain to give up his undertaking in sheer despair, and the people were dismissed with precisely the amount of knowledge on the subject that they ha.! at the beginning. Reader, that same little old Englishman was the meana, a few days subsequent to tiie ludicrous scene above descri- bed, of putting me into a train of thought, which resulted in my becoming a Univcrsalist. He himself was one, on the Winchesterian scheme, and in a conversation with him, as we walked in the woods, I was contesting that point. With his other qualities, the old gentleman had the crustiness common to age and decrepitude, and as we arrived at a fork where our respective roads separated, he asked me, pettishly, whether, in the creation, God had pro- posed no determinate ey^fZ to himself? " End?" asked I, in some embarrassment, " end — end — well, what of it ?" But the old gentleman was hobbling off, muttering as he went, *' pooh ! pooh ! do you think the Almighty would create without an end ? Nonsense 1" And thus I was left alone to follow out the clue thus furnished, whitherso- ever it might logically lead me. Well, thought I, it is certain that none but an idiot would enter upon ani/ im- portant work without some fixed and definite end — and when an end is proposed, means are usually adopted for carrying it into effect; and those means will be more or less effect- ual, according as the being who employs them is more or less wise. Now, as respects Jehovah, must he not have proposed to himself the most benevolent end? Undoubtedly. Could any end be more benevolent than the best ultimate good of all his creatures ? No. Allowing this, then, to have been his end, was his wisdom equal to a selection of means sufficient for its accomplishment ? Certainly. Did he foresee, and was he able to provide against, every pos- sible contingency that might arise to/n/5^ra;'e his purpose! He undeniably possessed such foresight and ability. How, t6 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS then, can you escape the conclusion that all mankind will ultimately be saved ? I can in no way escape it. Here, then, I was, nailed fast enough, nor could I strug- gle free by the aid of the usual Arminian quirks and quid- ities, though I knew the full value of them, I think, as well as any body. For example, say God meant to save all men, provided that all should comply with certain terms. But, knowing with certainty that an immense number would not so comply, did he at all propose the best ultimate good of that number? If yea, then he proposed an ultimate good which he positively knew could never be effected ! If nay, then with regard to that im- mense number — out-counting the stars of heaven — he created with no purpose of benevolence ! To them he was never good ! They owe him no thanks for their being — but curses rather ! And to them, assuredly, does not apply the exhortation, " Let every thing that hath breath praise the Lord I" As regards them, such text is a mockery. Having thus lost my last anchor-hold on orthodoxy, I was still unwilling to scud, with all sails set, before the winds of free inquiry, drive me where they would; no, aware of the danger of running under and foundering my bark from such a course, I chose rather to sail close, and steer with caution, for I feared infidelity worse than the least-approved form of religion in Christendom — and so I yet do — my object was religion still, but religion in a ra- tional, in a loveable form, and such she must be of neces- sity, as she springs from the source of infinite reason and of infinite love. At all events, as I was resolved to adopt no creed by system, but to take each item separately as my mind should approve it, I was still in uncertainty as to where I should eventually come out, and consequently I had no purpose of uniting myself to a sect. It was plain, however, that I could no longer, in good conscience, retain my position as pastor of an orthodox society. And, sooth to say, I had become sick of public life; I longed for re- tirement, and where could I better gratify that wish than in those wooded solitudes ? Nowhere, I supposed. So, thought I, I will choose me a lass to my liking, who will consent to share my seclusion here, away from the great Tanity-fair of the world, and we will be all in all to each other. And little will we reck, I mean, with how much complexity and clangor the machinery of busy life goes OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. ' ' Tt on, SO that it draw not us into its whirl, but leave us to the green and fragrant quietude of our sylvan retreat. Aha 1 how " disappointment laughs at hope's career ?" A lass to my liking I found, 'tis true — and for that I am sincerely thankful — ^but as to the semi-hermit part of the project, these pages manifest how far that has been realized. For fifteen years, now, have our humble fortunes been linked together, and together have we seen, since that day, a tolerably extensive tract of the world's territory — its vales, mountains, busy marts, and watery highways — its states of social refinement, and uncouthness — of luxury, mediocrity, and want. Immediately after my marriage, I returned to Philadel- phia to dissolve my connexion with my little society; and a heart-aching time I had of it. The scene of that trans- action is still before me ; it took place in Mrs. Bain's suit of parlors, where all the members had assembled. I plead my inexperience — my inability to manage their affairs of myself — the difficulty they would fmd, in case of my sick- ness at any time, or my death, to get my place supplied. I faithfully pointed out the embarrassments of various kinds which must necessarily beset a society — consisting in two thirds of females — in their struggles to maintain an isolated existence, etc., etc. All this, I now confess, I should have represented to them at the commencement. I was culpable, and selfish too, I fear, in deferring it until it better suited my convenience to leave them. However, they granted me the release I asked, but tears, and sobs, coming from the depths of the heart, too plainly evinced the cost at v/hich this grant was obtained. As for poor Mrs. Bain — the widow with whom I boarded — she seemed quite unequal to the blow. With the usual blindness of affection, she had not contemplated my leaving her, as among possible future contingencies. My leaving her ! what could induce such a step? I, a friendless orphan, and destitute of worldly means, and she a second mother to me, able and willing to afford me all the comfort I needed; and yet 1 was about to break loose from those ligaments of her kind heart which she had humanely thrown about me 1 Alas 1 " It is not in man that walketh to direct his steps." The stage was to call for me early on the morrow, and during the live-long night the kind old lady paced her chamber to and fro, and vented her grief in half-suppressed groans. When the stage at length ar- 78 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS Hved, and the separation could be no longer deferred, he? .anguish knew no bounds; she clung to my neck; she screamed ; she implored me to pity and remain with her, for she should die if I did not. God knows how deeply 1 did pity her, and how deeply distressed I was at the neces* sity for the separation ; but to stay had become a thing im- possible. God's blessing on her love for the orphan I CHAPTER V. ■Review — Avows the Universalist faith — Sermon on the rich maa and Lazarus — Poetises again — Is convinced of the propriety ol connecting himself with the Universalist body — Settles with a Society at Brookline, Pa. — Something of the practical tendencies of Universalism. It may be well now — since, of the whole coast of heresy, I have got out at length upon the farthest-projecting pro> monotory — it may be well to review my course, and to see how I stand in respect to changes; for I am by no means ambitious of the distinction of being regarded, in any emi- nent sense, as a changeling — certainly not. And yet, to well considered and progressive changes, no blame can justly attach, but the contrary. It is the changing back- ward and forward, and backward again, that betrays either an imbecile intellect, or an obliquious moral bent, and fairly entitles one to pity or to scorn. " I am a free-think- er," the eccentric Lorenzo Dow used to say, " by which 1 mean that / think, and, if at any after time I discover that I have thought amiss, I think again^ Now, it is that very thinking again that bigotry proscribes — she ordains that the once thinking, be it right or wrong, shall suffice a man for life. Howbeit, as I have never taken the oath of fealty to her, 1 feel not particularly bound by her behests. In respect to religious opinions, my mind has never known but three stages. The first was that of my educational faith, imposed upon me by my " spiritual pastors and mas- ters.'" The second was the transition stage afore described, in which there was a blending of the things behind with the things before. And the third was that of an entire in* or A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 7^ ddctrination into Universalism, where 1 yet remain, with every prospect of doing so forever. It implied no change that I quitted my mother church and adopted the usages of Methodism — no change of faith I mean, for the creed of the latter was adopted from the former, even as to its phraseology. After my interest in- religion was awakened, I preferred the communion of the Methodists, because I judged them to be more devout than Episcopalians, and because, also, their hymns, beyond any I had ever known, seemed the very echo of my experi- ence. Moreover, the following circumstance had no small influence upon that preference. When I was taken from the Orphan's Asylum, where I had been a close-pent prisoner for nine years, I was put to board with a family who were relations by marriage to my grandmother. On the first Sunday of my residence with them, they asked me if I would accompany them to meeting. I answered yes, at a hazzard, for I really knew not what a meeting was. Until then, I knew not that Chris- tianity existed in any other than the Episcopalian form.^ J knew, indeed, by reading, that there had been such a thing as Catholocism, but I supposed it had become obsolete. Judge then of my surprise when I discovered that a meet- ing meant an assemblage for religious worship ! And then, what a plain house! — Methodists were a much plainer people then than now. And what an anomoly for a man to preach and pray without either book or gown I And how strangely sounded the hymns, and the tunes to which they were sung ! All was strange. Well, years passed, till in my seventeenth year, as before related, I was awakened to the subject of religion. It then became a question with me, as to the kind of meeting to which those relatives had conducted me; they had appeared to be a good and kind sort of people; the remembrance of them was pleasant: and I could remember also a few stanzas of the hymns they used to sing. Consulting a Methodist book, I found it to contain those very hymns; I hence judged them to have belonged to that denomination, and that the more endeared to me both the hymns of that people and their mode of worship. Few Episcopalians, at that day, interpreted their creed in the evangelical, alias Calvinistic, sense. They repudia- ted the doctrine of native depravity, of a supernatural change of heart, and of all direct spiritual influences in so EXPERIENCE, LABOES, AND TRAVELS religion. They stigmatized these views as Methodistical^ and conducive to distempered conceits, and various fanati- cal affections. I once took an agency for the Episcopal Recorder, edited by the Rev. G. T. Bedell, a very eminent minister of Philadelphia. Nevertheless, on the score of its advocating the low church or evangelical doctrines and usages, I found great opposition to it on the part of Epis- copalians, both clerical and laic, insomuch that, where there were large churches of that people,! could scarcely obtain for it a single subscriber. Mentioning this circum- stance, at the time of it, to an elderly Episcopal clergy- man — Rev. Simon Wilmer — he informed me that the op- position to the evangelic doctrines had lormerly been much greater than it then was, and that at a certain time there was but a single clergyman of his church, besides himself, within the bounds of the convention to which he belonged, who professed to have experienced, or who believed in the attainability of a supernatural change of heart. Now, however, nearly that whole church so holds ! If, then, the mother church herself can thus change, she must be sparing of her anathemas upon her heretical son. I have said that I longed for private and secluded, life, and I did so most earnestly. I could sincerely sympathize- in the poet's wish — " Oh for a lodge in some vast wilderness, Some boundless contiguity of shade." But it was not in the Beech Woods that I was destined to find the retirement I sought, nor could anything but my entire ignorance of rural habits have led me to seek it there. One can be far more secluded in the heart of a great city, than in a thinly populated district; that I was not long in learning from experience. I had not yet de- clared the change in my faith, simply because, in fact, 1 could not exactly define what I had changed to. I had, however, an appointment to preach on the Sunday follow- ing my return from Philadelphia, after my marriage; the time arrived; the congregation was mostly composed of Methodists and Baptists. I took for my text, Ps. cxlix. 4. " For the Lord taketh pleasure in his children : he will beautify the meek with salvation." I selected this beauti- ful passage with no purpose of deducing from it any par- ticular theological doctrine, but being of a reasoning habit in my discourses at all times, and wholly extemporaneous. OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 81 1 proceeded step by .step in my sermon on that occasion, until I found myself launched broadly out into a discus- sion of God's universal paternity, and the hope thence arising as to the final destiny of the whole human family. I can assure the reader that I had a wakeful audience that day; looks of unbounded surprise were exchanged by face with face, for it is doubtful if a single person there had ever before listened to the gospel in that form : and I was regarded as little else than a bold blasphemer in daring to give utterance to it. And it was no minced affair, that sermon, although my virgin effort as a Universalist. After having satisfied my- self on the affirmative ground, I took the negative in hand ; I labored to show the cruelty and injustice of the doctrine of endless wo — its revengeful aspect, and its evil bearing upon man's views of the Divine character. I insisted that my hearers themselves did not, could not, believe in it, any more than myself ; to comprehend it, indeed, I asserted, exceeded the capacity of the human understanding. " Not that I mean to impeach your sincerity, my friends," said I; " you honestly think, 1 doubt not, that it is a doctrine of the Bible, and that it is your duty to acquiesce in its pro- priety; nevertheless to appreciate it, to conform your feelings and conduct to a persuasion of its truth, is more than you can do. Some of you are fathers, and mothers. You have children grown to a responsible age; they are unconverted; between them and eternal perdition, there- fore, but one moment of time may separate. Does a con- viction of this fact influence your conduct toward them? On the contrary, do not days, months, years, pass without their hearing a word from you relative to their danger? Now this, certainly, does not proceed from the want of a sincere affection for them, for you manifest a suitable con- cern for their earthly weal, and should one of ihem be journeying toward a precipice, into which, as you foresaw, he was liable to fall and be dashed to pieces, you would not be wanting in exertions to prevent such a catastrophe. No, you would leave your bed at midnight, if necessary, and amid storm and darkness hasten to intercept his dan- gerous progress. Yet, in that case, the mere temporal life of your child would be at stake, whereas in this he is sup- posed to be traveling toward the abyss of final ruin — you know not at what moment he may arrive at its awful brink, and be precipitated into its waves of fire ! And you can S2 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS be indifferent meanwhile! Surely, either your faith orbtj- nevolence is sadly at fault, and I must needs conclude that it is the former." It will be believed, that there was no small stir in tho congregation when 'the meeting closed; nevertheless, I must do the people the justice to say, that they manifested very little ill-feeling. Some sagacious ones had forseen that I would one day become a tJniversalist. Others had supposed me the last man for such a likelihood. One old gentlemarj, a class-leader, gave it as his judgment, that " much learning had made me mad" — of which " much learning" I was quite innocent, God knows. None, how- ever, charged me with insincerity or impure motives; nor could they, with any show of reason, for the new stand 1 had taken was against every prospect of worldly interest^ and on that account, but still more for the loss of friends and public countenance which I foresaw it would involve, it was a sore and grievous trial to me. I positively knew of no Universalist within a hundred miles of me, and I now felt myself more than ever isolated from the rest of Christendom. I had no idea of ever becoming a preacher of the Universalist church. I judged not myself to possess the necessary ability, neither, indeed, was I sufficiently ac- quainted with their system of faith, to know whether I should agree with them in several important particulars. However, as I had now fully committed myself on the point of universal salvation, I must defend it against all opposi- tion as I best could. I had no access to books on the sub- ject, nor had I ever read one; and, for the removal of objections, therefore, and the harmonizing of certain Scripture texts with my new theory, I had to rely solely on my own ingenuity. True, I had maintained public debates with Universalists early in my public life, but my bigotry was then such, that I retained no knowledge of their methods of explaining the texts I refer to. As might have been expected, it was not long ere I was called on for an exposition of the Rich man and Lazarus; and the reader shall have an outline of my discourse on that subject. But I must first notify him that when I sub- eequently saw Mr. Ballou's exposition of it, I decidedly preferred it to my own. I assumed, then, that Christ presented the case as a sup- positious one — as though he had said, "we will suppose a case. There was a certain rich man," etc. The rich OP A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 83 man, I assumed, represented a voluptuary, engrossed in self-gratification, and unmindful of the claims which his suffering fellow beings had upon his sympathy and means of relief. The poor man "was laid at his gate,*" not be- cause of his known benevolence, as Dr. Clarke supposes, but simply because he was known to be able to render him assistance — the poor naturally looked for aid to the rich, Christ represents Lazarus as being very moderate in hia expectations, " desiring to be fed with the crumbs that fell from the rich man's table." I am aware that the word desir- ing^ might, without violence to the original, have been ven- der ed delighting, and that it is thence inferred that Lazarus actually received such crumbs — which Clarke tells us were very large ones; being lumps of bread, on which people in those times, for want of napkins, wiped their fingers; forks having not yet come into fashion; but then it is not pretended that desiring is not also a correct rendering, and it is proved, as I think, by all the circumstances, to be ths true one. And even if otherwise, there is small charity, I trow, in granting crumbs to a beggar, with which one has wiped his greasy fingers! It says but little, too, for the kindness of the rich man, that this poor subject of dis^ ease and want should have been left to the mercy of dogs, which "came and licked his sores." The unsophisticated reader will scarcely believe that this circumstance, also, has been interpreted to favor the notion of the rich man's charity! Perhaps he sent the dogs to perform that office; and perhaps it was done for medicinal purposes; for the lick of a dog is healing; and Esculapius, the god of physic, was sometimes represented in statuary with a dog in at- tendance! All very probable, reader, is it not? In con- tempt of all this circuitous criticism, I assumed that the rich man was a sordid, unfeeling, sensualist, and that Laz- arus, poor, afflicted, and modest in his claims, was wholly unpitied and neglected by him. But, in the course of things, the conditions of the par* ties are reversed. Lazarus dies to his former miserable and degraded state — he was not buried, mind you — he was " carried by angels to Abraham's bosom : " in other words, he was elevated to a seat of honor in the nation which claimed Abraham as its father. " The rich man also died," to his former wealth and dignity, and he, you must mark, *^was buried," was degraded, obscured, "and in hell" — hades, literally the grave, figuratively, moral or civil de- 84 BXPERIBNCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS gradation — " he lifted up his eyes, being in torment, and saw Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom." His turn to beg is now come. But he asks no favor directly of Lazarus — why not, if he by his previous charities, had laid Lazarus under obligations to him? — he merely re- quests that Lazarus may be sent to his relief, and is told in return, '* Thou in thy life time," in thy prosperous days, *' receivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus his evil things." Why did he not answer, " true, and I imparted of my good things to him, and may now, therefore, justly demand a requittal?" It is clear, that he must have had a lower opinion of his own charity than it has pleased Dr. Clarke to entertain of it — and all for the sake of thinking that a very kind and benevolent soul may be eternally damned! He is also reminded of " a great gulph" which existed between himself and Lazarus; such as at all times has existed between the rich and the poor, but in those times, and in those countries, more especially. The rich man was quite well aware of it while he was on the better side thereof It was hard, in those days, very hard, pass- ing from poverty to wealth, or even from wealth to pov- erty, by reason of the law of primogeniture, and other conventional regulations. Still it was possible, and the rich man had fears for his five brethren, who were probably pursuing the same course which had ruined himself. It might prevent their coming to the " same place of torment," — sinking to the same state of degradation — if any one, who had actually risen from that condition, and was capable, from experience, of de- scribing its horrors, should go to them with timely exhor- tation. But no, saith Abraham, " they have Moses and the prophets;" they have all the instruction granted to the rest of their nation ; let them attend to it, or abide the con- sequences of their neglect. The moral of the subject, is, 1st. That a course of pro- fligate and prodigal living is likely to end in beggary. 2d. That if we are deaf to the calls of humanity, when we have it in our power to afford relief, we shall, by a just retribution of Providence, be liable to be brought to ask and be denied in return. 3d. That it is exceedingly diffi- cult, after we have once ruined ourselves, to regain our first estate — the gulph is hard to repass. Finally; if we fail to improve the ordinary means of instruction with which heaven has furnished us, we are not to expect that OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER, 85 God will arrest our straying and ruinward steps by miracle. Such is a skeleton of the discourse ; and I backed it up by proof, that the orthodox exposition of the subject cannot hy possibility be correct, because it is well known, and even by the most learned orthodox divines admitted, that " Moses and the prophets" teach nothing whatever — not a single iyllable — about a hell of suffering beyond the present ex- istence. Nevertheless, Mr. Ballou's explication of this parable has a fuller correspondence with Scripture and fact, and is, I think, the true one. My meetings, notwithstanding my change of sentiments, continued to be crowdedly attended, and by all classes of believers. In a settlement called Paupack, the oldest in those parts, and peopled originally by emigrants from Connecticut, I was left with the field almost wholly to my- self, though it had been included in a Methodist circuit for more than thirty years; besides that, a local preacher of that denomination, had preached] there every Sabbath for a long time previous. But he ceased, from that period; nor do I think he ever preached afterward, during my stay in the country, except on funeral occasions. He yet lives, and is a truly good man, as well as a sensible one : he had founded high expectations on my contemplated settlement in the parts, supposing it would lead to very favorable re- sults in a religious point of view. How I dreaded an in- terview with him after my change! I used to be much at his house, and he was very much my friend. At length, the dreaded interview took place ; I tarried with him over night, under his own roof; he said not a word to me on the subject; but the next morning, after setting me over the river that runs by his door, in a canoe, he stood on the op- posite bank, and gave vent to his feelings in tears and pas- sionate remonstrances. This was a hard trial to me. My God! why cannot we all think alike? He afterwards heard me a few times, and expressed, very candidly, his conviction, that, although my error was great, yet it was exceedingly plausible and very difficult of refutation. During those days, I fell into my old sin of making verses — my rambles in those woods seemed to inspire me with that sort of mania — and I really had the presumption to project a poem, of serious length and pretentions, to be entitled The Suicide's Grave. I composed some seventy or eighty stanzas of it, but relinquished my task, whilst it 86 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS was yet in a fragmentary state, having neither a beginnings nor an end. The reader will, 1 hope, pardon my vanity, in spreading before him what I can now remember of it; which I do in the hope that he will like the sentiment if ttot the poetry. Thus musing, as at eventide I stray'd, Pushing through forest deep my pathless way — 'Twas autumn, when the leaves do fall and fade, And driven by the wind, in whirling circles play. A brook, meandering in its course, flowed there; On its green verge I sought a while to stroll. Thinking of Kedron, and the Garden, where The Savior oft pour'd forth the sorrows of his soul. ^ And oft, me thought, when birds had sought their nest, When prowling wolves, in quest of prey, did hie, The " man of sorrows" sought a place of rest ; Perchance some shelt'ring shade, on leafy couch to lie. The nightingale suppress'd its sonnets then, And mutely all night long its vigils kept. The beast of prey slunk hungry to his den. And all was silence where the homeless Savior slept. Not long I rambled in this musing mood, E'er lol a solitary grave I spied I Between two stately chesnut trees it stood. On one of which was carv'd, " Here lies a suicide.'? Two r\ide unsculptur'd stones, its length defined; (Nothing they tell of him that sleeps beneath;) The chesnut, hemlock, beech and ash combin'd, To throw a sombre gloom o'er that abode of death. No object could I see which bore a date. Informing when this lonely grave v/as built. Alas! poor suicide! 'Twas thy hard fate. To leave no trace behind, but this brief tale of guilt. I wonder why thou sleepest here alone! What, could th'j common dead object, I pray, If 'mong theirs some friend should rear thy stone. Or in a neighb'ring grave thy harmless bones should lay? No gen'rous sexton ever comes this way, To kf^ep thy mould'ring mansion in repair; And T suspect, that on thy burial day. No priest did consecrate this lonely spot with prayer. OF A TTNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 87 The priest, I trow, and Leyite, will pass by On t' other side, when thy rude grave they see; The Pharisee will upward roll his eye. And proudly thank his God that he is not like thee. But now and then a kind Samaritan Will pause and weep in pity for thy fate; And meet it is that man should weep for man, Since in one lot of tears all must participate. But thy case is the worst that can be nam'd, If all is true which priests and poets tell; Thou sinkest deeper than the common dam'd, For they, it seems, wont keep thee company in hell.* No doubt, if man could hurl the bolts of heaven, 'Twould fare full hard with wretches not a few; Millions to endless anguish would be driven. For what they did on earth, or what they failed to do. But God, the righteous "judge of all the earth," On equal principles thy cause hath tried: He knoweth all are frail, of human birth, And he is goed and just — So rest thee, suicide. Then turning to the bank, (for want of spade) I loossned with my hands the grassy sod. Which in the breaches of the grave I laid; And oh! my heart beat high, for none beheld but G»d. Now night had o'er the silent scene around. Her star-bespangled robe of darkness thrown — I turn'd me to depart, when, from the ground, Methought a voice addressed me. in sepulchral tone: **Stay, generous stranger, listen to my woes; Since thou dost condescend to pity me: I hope, whene'er thine earthly life shalt close. Thou may'st not want a friend to mend thy grave for the«. But little of my transitory span It was my fortune with the rich to spend; In poverty and sorrow, I began That being, which in poverty and grief did end. I was an orphan at an early age ; My father bled upon a foreign shore: His spirit sped amid the battle's rage, And left his wife and babe in sadness to deplore. * So saith Rev. Dr. Blair, (father of the celebrcted Hugh Blair,) in a poem entitled, The Grave. Reverend Doctors must know all ftbout such things; hence, when I wish to know more of hell than it has pleased God to inform me in his word, I go to them for in- struction. 88 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS But soon that last, best friend, my mother, died : In her alas! I lost my earthly all. Her burial came; I wept at her grave side; I heard the rumbling clods upon her coffin fall. Then, among wolves which prowl this desert drear, A lonely lamb without a fold, I stray'd. No shepherd's aid, no friendly crook was near, To guide my infant feet, to lead to friendly shade^ The laughing lustre of my eye grew dim, A melancholy on my spirits prey'd ; My cup was fill'd with sorrow to the brim; The rose that used to sit upon my cheek did fade. Stranger, is yours an hospitable world, Its pity to the wretched to deny? Should friendless scoffs and sneers at those be hurl'd, Who have no gold wherewith *its charities to buy? Oh, why should man 'gainst pity arm his breast? Since he to death and wo is surely heir; Why should he spurn his brother when oppress'd, And frown a darker night upon hia soul's despair?'* I Stop here; my memory can furnish no more, and the reader will, I fear, be disposed to quarrel with me for re* taining so much; yet his charity will incline him to excuse the vanity, so common, of an affection for the effusions of my early muse. My mind, it will be perceived, was sub- ject to occasional touches of melancholy — inseparable from a versifying propensity, are they not? — these, however, were of very brief duration — the shadows of April clouda passing over the sunny landscape of my happiness. For a full year I continued to preach Universalism on the same independent footing that I had formerly main- tained as an orthodox preacher; nor knew I, indeed, that there existed any Universalist societies out of the large towns, until, in the summer of 1830, I revisited Philadel- phia, and had an interview with Abel C. Thomas, then pas- tor of Lombard street church in that city. On the Sun- day previous to that interview, I preached in the vicinity of the Bear Tavern, Bucks county, where I had often preached my former doctrines. My text was, " He that believeth not shall be damned;" in the course of my ser- mon I introduced, as illustrative of the mystical creeds which are apt to be imposed upon young minds, soma strangely contradictory passages from the creed of Atha- nasius, which I had been compelled to commit, as an essen- OF A UNIVEKSALIST PREACHER. B9 tial part of my education, when a boy. It happened that a Sunday school, with its superintendent and teachers, •composed a part of mj^ audience, and as this part of my dis- course bore hardly upon their practice, they sat somewhat uneasy under it; the superintendent, in particular — a zeal- ous Presbyterian, who, previous to my change of faith, had more than once entertained me at his house — was so exasperated that, forgetful of common decency, he arose and called me a liar; denying that there existed such a ci-eed as the Athanasian! 1 calmly told him he was at lib- erty to leave the meeting, which he did, reiterating his abuse, and calling upon the rest of the audience to follow his example, which some did; but the large majority, who remained, gave the closer attention for this indecorous in- terruption. At the close of the meeting, a gentleman of Quaker origin and connections, Joshua Dungan, invited me to his house, telling me that though of a contrary faith, he could not but admire my straight forward and independ- ent course. An hours conversation at their house, suf- ficed to convince both him and his wife of the truth of my doctrines, and our intimacy and unity of faith continue un- changed to the present day. In my first interview with Mr, Thomas, it was not my design to make myself known to him, as a Universalist — the reader will be at no loss for ihe reason — I wished not to connect myself with a sect. When, however, he in- formed me that a member of his congregation, being the Sunday previous on a visit at Addisville, had heard a young man — previously of orthodox faith — deliver him- self of a Universalist sermon, in a plain and fearless man- ner; I could not refrain from informing him that I was that young man; at which announcement he was highly elated, for accessions to the Universalist ministry, were not then, as now, a circumstance of weekly occurrence. He inquir- ed, if I did not mean to attach myself to the denomination? I gave him my objections to that measure, and, one by one, he overturned them, with that ease of argument for which he is distinguished. My first was, that sectarianism leads to exclusiveness of feeling; one will naturally, I argued, feel a closer tie between himself and another of his own sect, than in relation to another who is out of its pale Mr. T. settled this point by asking me to determine, can- didly, whether, ever standing aloof from party ties, I could avoid feeling a preference for those who believed in com- 7 do EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS moil with myself, over others of a contrary faith? I was forced, on reflection, to acknowledge that this is not avoid- able. My second objection was, that sects usually adopt their doctrines by system, instead of subjecting each one to a separate investigation, and that thence it follows that they retain particular dogmas, after reason has demon- strated their absurdity, because they happen to be part and parcel of the system. To this it was answered, that Uni- versalists have no creed to which their faith is required to conform, but that each individual is left at liberty to form his own creed from the Bible, and is only responsible therefor to his God and his conscience. Thus was my second objection disposed of. My third was, that a hire- ling ministry was anti-christian, etc. This was my strong point. My intimacy with Theophilus Gates, with the Friends, and the people called Christians, had led me to think that a hireling ministry was the central source of all spiritual wickedness; that the beast, coming out of the bottomless pit, having seven heads and ten horns — that the great dragon, the switch of whose enormous tail swept a third part of the stars from heaven — that Apollion, Abaddon — in short, all the hobgoblins portrayed in the Apocalypse, were so many diversified symbols of this grand central abomination. Mr. T. asked me to show reason why time and talent, devoted to the offices of the ministry, may not as lawfully claim remuneration, as the same de- voted to any other employment? For the life of me I could not tell why. You, for instance, are about publish- ing a book, he added; do you purpose giving that to the public, gratis? I answered; certainly not, because its pro- duction cost me both time and money. Very good, he re- plied, and is not the time you devote to study for the pul- pit, the expense incurred in traveling to fill appointments, and procuring the books needful to aid your studies, are these not equivalent to time and expenditure engaged in any other vocation? I could not but answer affirmatively to these questions; and thus, forever, vanished my silly objections to what I termed sectarianism, and a hireling ministry. The book referred to, which I was then about to publish, was entitled, Charles and Henry, ajiction, illustrative of the spirit and temper which characterize the Christian church in the present age. It was to have been issued in twelve num- bers, of twenty-four pages each, duodecimo, but owing to OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 91 a misunderstanding with the printer, only seventy two pages were written, and forty-eight printed. I can say nothing of its merits, as compared with my late produc- tions. I have written nothing like it since, notwithstand- ing that I think the plan was good, and might, in able hands, have been made effective in the cause of religious reformation. Its dramatis personce were the heroes named in the title — Rev. Job Thunderwell, Deacon VVobegone. Rev. Erasmus Surplice, pastor of St. Giles' Church, Nehe- miah Toll, sexton of the same, Dolly Toll, his wife, etc.; Oh! yes, and Elder Turn-to-the-Lord, whose pardon I crave for not placing him foremost on the list, seeing that he was the most redoubtable of personages, not even except- ing the Rev. John Thunderwell ; for " not the least amongst the thousands of Israel" — so ran the account — " was Elder Tobias Turn-to-the-Lord, far be it from the author to have him so accounted, — no, he was a genuine vessel of mercy, after the strictest orthodox, Quaker-hanging, blue-law- making, Sunday-mail-stopping stamp; he could quote you the hereditary descent of his religious faith, from his grandfathers great great grandfather, down through every link of the descending chain to his unworthy but elected self; nor had a single instance of heresy occured in this Godly line, save in the case of his immediate progenitor, who, as the elder used to say, was too much given to ex- exercise his carnal reason and profane understanding in regard to these sacred mysteries, wherefore it seemed unto the outward eye, that the heavenly Potter had seen fit, in his marvellous wisdom, to mould him unto dishonor, but,'' etc. There is always a but, thou knowest, reader, between our dear friends and the doom of endless wo we contem- plate for others; and, I need hardly say that it so turned out at last in respect to the Elder's father. This saving hutj it must be owned, is a convenient salvo to the dis- comforts of an endless hell belief. My first sermon to the Universalists was delivered in Mr. Thomas' church on Lombard street; my second, in the Callowhill street church, of which Zelotes Fuller was then the pastor. From these gentlemen I received my first credential as a Universalist minister. In the fall follow- ing, at the instance of Mr. Thomas, I visited the church in Brooklyn, Susquehanna county, Pennsylvania, of whose ex- istence I was previously ignorant, although the distance to it from the home of my wife was but forty miles. It had been 92 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS for two years destitute of a pastor,"and had lost, by death, the only two it had successively had ; first, Amos Crandel, and after him, Charles R. Marsh. Susquehanna county is also in the Beech Woods, but its forest is less dense and gloomy than is that of Wayne and a part of Pike counties; although even it will seem sufficiently so to a stranger passing through it. It is a continuous series of very high hills and narrow vales, but, notwithstanding the face of the ground is generally smooth and covered with grass to the summits of the loftiest ridges, it admits of and containfi! a numerous and thriving population, who are mostly na- tives of New England, or their immediate descendants; and a more industrious, moral, and enlightened communi- ty is not to be found on the face of the earth. Before 1 visited this people, I had heard much of the evil practical tendencies of Universalism. I had been told that man is naturally so corrupt, that he needs the restraint which the fear of interminable wo imposes, and that if such restraint is withdrawn, his evil nature will manifest itself in every frightful form of guilt conceivable, etc. etc. I had no means of determining the truth or falsity of these representations by personal observation; I knew not but they might be true; they either were so, or a great many people were very much mistaken — but, then, might not these same great many people be also very much prejudiced? Everything is not true, I was aware, which a great many people think to be so, otherwise Bud- hism is true, Mahominedism is true. Reasoning from the principles of Universalism, I could not avoid coming to a different conclusion. If, in the moral world, as in the nat- ural, causes produce effects like themselves, I could not account how the constant contemplation of divine love should produce hatred; nor the contemplation of holiness, as the ultimate condition of our whole race, produce sin; nor that of divine mercy, as exercised toward universal humanity, produce cruelty or revenge. Still, j'acts^ it must be owned, will sometimes overturn the most plausi- ble theories, and I knew not but what it might be so in re- spect to Universalism. I had my own experience to judge from, it is true, but what boots it to say how that decided? and partiality for one's own sweet self, moreover, is apt to warp the decision rendered from that source. When, however, I had been among the Universalists of Susque- hanna county, I enjoyed the highest degree of satisfaction OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 93 as to the practical tendencies of my new faith; 1 thought I had never been amongst a people who so nearly fulfilled uiy ideal of social perfection. 1 am quite aware that, as a visitor, I saw little besides the brighter tints of the picture; nevertheless, after a subsequent residence in that region for four years, I hesitate not to ratify the general truth of the first impression. For the memories of both their deceased pastors the Universalists of Susquehanna had a deep regard ; they lie side by side in their burial-ground in Brooklyn, and a single marble slab covers both their graves. The latter of them, Charles R. Marsh, was but a few years past his minority, when he died of pulmonary consumption; he was a good scholar, an eloquent preacher, and an emi- nently amiable young man. During the two last years of his life he published a semi-monthly paper, entitled the Candid Examiner; in the course of its first volume, an eminent Methodist minister entered its columns, in discussion with the editor, and continued his articles until the failing health of Mr. Marsh compelled him to discon- tinue the paper; he shortly afterwards yielded up his young and valuable life. Scarcely was he deposited in his grave, ere his ungenerous correspondent collected his own articles, and republished them in book form, without the replies; and in addition thereto, he set forth, in his preface, that Mr. Marsh had discontinued the controversy from a fear of his opponent's arguments! So far was this from the truth, that the editor had fully met and fairly refuted everything in the shape of argument in his oppo- nent's articles, although the controversy was a tax upon his wasting life, which few besides would have submitted to, for his correspondent writing a very illegible hand, the editor had to decipher and rewrite his tediously prolix articles for the printer, besides composing replies thereto, together with all the other toils attendant on his twofold occupation of clergyman and journalist. But, in truth, his correspondent belonged to the class of disputants of whom Goldsmith's Village Schoolmaster was a sample : "In a.rguin,!T, too, the parson owned his skill, For e'en when vanquished, he could argue still." What, for example, could penetrate the moral obstuse- ness of a man, who, rather than concede himself to be worsted in a single point, contended strenuously that the 94 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS ^ adverb still implies duration without end? "He that is filthy, let him be filthy still," was one of his proof texts^ and he actually raised an argument for the endlessness of the sinner's condition in eternity, on the word still! Of what avail were appeals to the reason of a man, more* over, who deliberately penned, and in his republication repeated the following sentiment : " We hold to no inde* pendent agency in man; he has power to damn himself^ indeed, but none to save himself?" The reader will doubtless agree with me, that argument was thrown away^ on poor Mr. Marsh's part, in so unequal a contest as thia. Yet this same correspondent occupies, at this present time, one of the highest editorial positions within the control of the Methodist church. The writing an answer to the republished arguments of this same correspondent was my first literary employ- ment as a Universalist — an accredited Universalist, I mean. This occupied my intervals of leisure during the winter of 1830-'31, and made a work of one hundred and sixty pages, duodecimo — about the size of the work reviewed* 1 was then residing in a settlement called Paupack, in Pike county, about eight miles from the home of my wife's family. It was an old settlement as compared with the settlements around it; its original stock of inhabitants were from Connecticut, and they were most of them yet living, at a very advanced age, surrounded by their off- spring of two generations. Very original characters were some of them, combining great simplicity with uncommon shrewdness; free-thinkers in religion; honest and punctual in their dealings; ungrudgingly hospitable to strangers; and industrious beyond any people I had ever seen. A great horror of priestcraft had these Pau- packers, and reason good, for at the time of their resi- dence in Connecticut the Congregational priesthood bore rule ; their support by the people was compulsory. A poor man's cow, or other indispensable chattel, was liable to seizure for the payment of the clerical tax; and a layman, as those old settlers used to tell, had to pull off his hat and carry it under his arm as the priest rode by.. It may be conceived, therefore, that the Paupackers had little love for Presbyterianism. I may term the year or more of my residence amongst that people, the comedy of 7ny life, for never before nor since was my mirthfulness taxed to an equal degree. Each of these old folks was OF A UNI VERS ALIST PREACHER. 9(i> an oddity in his own way, different from each other, and from every body else in the world. I have had several severe struggles with myself to repress a propensity for writing a novel, in which those personages should be made to act their appropriate parts; assuredly if the world did not already so teem with books of the kind, J should fiTid it hard to resist the temptation. CHAPTER VI. Two night adventures in the woods — Wide extent of his circuit of Ministerial Labors — Tour to Dover Plains, N. Y., and Danbury, Ct. — Praying and unpraying men compared — Coincidencies which seemed providential — Rambles and adventures in Bradford county — Peculiar Character of the opposition to Universalism — Several instances thereof related — An amusing affair at Cudderbackville — Affair at a Camp-meeting — A controversial tilt or two — Affair at an Inquiry meeting, with an exposition of Acts i. — Affair with a termagant. In the Spring of 1831 I accepted an invitation from the society in Brooklyn to become their pastor, and took wp my residence there accordingly. It was not without much timidity that I took this step; I was young, unread in Universalism, having never read a single treatise on the subject, and had been preceded in the station by eminently gifted and excellent men; I lacked not for opposition, moreover, both from within the society itself and from without; that, to me, was a season of severe trial; thank God, I passed through unharmed! It is hard, however, to defend a citadel from the assaults of the foe without, whilst there exist dissensions amongst the garri- son within. Well, I will pass those things as lightly and briefly as possible; they are not of the kind my mind loves to dwell upon, and I am far from thinking, severe as then seemed the furnace of trial through which I passed, that I suffered a single unnecessary pang. Heaven makes no mistakes in apportioning our trials to us; if mine, in the course of my life, have exceeded the ordinary sum, which I cannot but think is the case, though doubtless each one thinks the same of his own, he who " tempers the wind to the shorn lamb," endowed me with a natural buoyancy of spirit which has well enabled me to bear them. 96 EXPEEIjBNCE, LABORS, AND TRA\':ELS My life began now to be a busy and laborious on& indeed : my field was wide enough at the first to keep me- well employed, and my anxiety to comply with every call,, tended continually to widen it, yntil, ere I terminated my stay in that region, it had extended to a hundred miles in every direction from the central point, and, consequently^ was full six hundred miles in circumference. My long rides, nevertheless, did not prevent me from gratifying my thirst for knowledge; my habit was to carry books with me and read them as } journeyed. My contempt for illiterate clergymen stimulated me to exertions to avoid being one of that sort myself. A preacher, indeed, may be excusable for being ignorant when he sets out in his profession, but nothing can excuse his contenting himself to remain so. So I then thought, and so I think still. My father-in-law's residence is in one of the rudest and most inaccessible parts of the beech wilderness afore described ; still his farm itself is smooth, and easily culti- vable, being composed of bottom-lands which skirt a branch of the Lackawaxen river; but it is hemed in by huge hills, and by vast extents of the primeval forests, upon whose silence the sounds of human life have little intruded; there skulks the wolf, and there the rattlesnake gives out his note of warning; the wildcat also, and the more formidable panther, are sometimes to be met with there. Journeying thitherward for my wife, shortly after my settlement at Brooklyn, I left my vehicle at a point within six miles of the place, at Salem Corners, on account of its being impossible to reach it by that mode of travel. Night overtook me ere 1 had gone over one third part of those six miles; it was not a road to be hurried over even in daylight; one's way had to be picked among rocks, rotten logs, hemlock roots, etc.; besides climbing steep and difficult hills, and descending to deep hollows. These circumstances, added to the necessarily intense darkness of a path completely overarched by the interlacing limbs of trees more than a hundred feet in altitude, rendered one's progress slow indeed, and one's eyes of but little use to him. For myself, letting the bridle-rein lie on my horse's neck, I left him to pick his own way as best he could; he proceeding by sight and scent, and I by faith. We had got to within a mile or so of my father-in-law's, when, with the suddenness of lightning, my horse leaped from under me in a lateral direction, and I found myself at my OF A UNI VERS ALIST PREACHER. 97 length on mother earth, with a sprained wrist, and some- what stunned withal. What had startled him I know not, but suppose it may have been a deer, as that sort of animals were numerous thereabout. At all events, in going after my horse, who also came to meet me, I got inextricably bewildered, and concluded to take up my lodgings where I was. So, after stripping my horse of saddle and bridle, that he might be free to run in case of an attack, 1 tramped down some bushes for my bed, on which, with my saddle for a pillow, and my cloak for a covering, I soon sunk to sleep. My slumbers, however, could not have been deep, for I was aroused ere long by what seemed the crash of a limb of the tree at my head. I sprang up in a sitting posture, never more sure of any- thing than that a panther in the tree had caused that ci'ash, and that in a moment more I should be his prey. I then remembered that my brother-in-law had told me of having fallen in with one but a week before, in that very vicinity. Resistance, or flight, I knew would be utterly unavailing, and folding my arms across my breast, and bowing my head on my arms, I awaited the panther's spring. My feeling was not that of terror, but of awe and solemnity; I felt as one standing out on a far-project- ing promontory of time, and looking out on the wide and unexplored expanse beyond, and, as God shall judge me, I saw there nothing to affright, but much to humble and subdue me. However, as the leap did not come, after waiting for it a reasonable time, I began to hold a counsel within myself, as to what other cause may have produced that crash. Whilst I was revolving this inquiry, my horse, who was picking for grass at a little distance, pro- duced a similar crash, by treading on a rotten branch which broke under his weight; this quite satisfied me that tlie former noise must have proceeded from the same cause, but as I then was partially asleep, and my ear near tlie ground, it had seemed louder and to have come in a different direction. Upon this I laid down again, quite free from apprehension, and slept tranquilly till morning, when I found my horse still grazing near me, and myself was none the worse, save that my sprained wrist was considerably swollen. A few nights after the above adventure, I had another^ from which I got off somewhat less cheaply. Again be- nighted, I was proceeding towards my father-in-law's, as 98 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS before, but on the opposite side of the river, when I was suddenly brought to a halt by a large tree, which had fallen across the road : a rain was falling, and the night was uncommonly dark. To make a circuit around a fallen tree in that country, even by day, is a thing easier thought of than done, for besides the brokenness of the ground, it is thickly covered with undergrowths of various kinds. Well, being resolved not to be a second time baffled of reaching quarters for the night, I stripped my horse, and leaving him to shift for himself as best he could, I endea- vored to grope my way to the bank of the river over against my father-in-law's house. But, in honest truth, 1 am a sorry woodsman, and I managed to lose the path at the very commencement; I climbed over prostrate trees — crept under others — forced my way through laurels and briars — waded through boggy morasses — clambered over huge rocks; one while I would sink down from sheer weakness and exhaustion, and anon would summon new resolution, and push on; my hat was stove in on all quar* ters — my clothes torn to tatters; for miles I must have wandered, amid rain and darkness, until, about midnight, I heard a rush of waters, which, but for the pattering of the rain I would have heard earlier; I pushed on in the direction whence the sound proceeded, and soon saw the dark river chafing amongst the rocks in its channel. It would have awed me under other circumstances, but as it was, I plunged into it, as eagerly as does a wounded deer for drink, and by wading and swimming alternately — foi? to walk along its margin was impossible — for nearly two miles, I arrived at my father-in-law's door at length, in such plight as is not easily described. Once, on my way down the river, I had caught hold of a bush on its margin for momentary support, but was soon warned off by the terrific greeting of a rattlesnake, which are very numer- ous in that vicinity; need 1 tell that I gave a ready heed to its caution? The old folks were much alarmed at ths condition I was in, and the risk I had run, and my father- in-law, who perfectly knew the difficulties of the ground over which I had fought my way, declared, that for th« price of his farm, he would not undertake it even by day- light, yet — with the exception of the entire loss of my clothes, from hat to shoes, inclusive — I escaped wholly un- injured. There are few places in all that region in which I have OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 99 not lifted my voice for the truth; wherever I could get a -dozen or even half a dozen persons to hear me. I went once, in midwinter, eight miles from a public road to preach to one family, living alone in the woods; their name was Simpson; they were originally from England, and so zeal- ously affected in the good cause were they, that whenever I preached in Mt. Pleasant, ten miles from their resi- dence, they were sure to be present, although they had to travel the distance on foot. Besides Brooklyn and Harford, in Susquehanna county, between which places principally, I divided my Sabbaths, I used to preach in Bethany, seat of justice for Wayne county; in Hones- dale, at the head of the Delaware and Hudson canal, in what is now the village of Prompton, and contains a neat Universalist church, but was then the residence of the Jenkins' family only; in Canaan; in the Glass Works vil- lage; in Riley's Settlement; in Carbondale, where are the Delaware and Hudson coal mines; in Centerville, Dundafi^ Greenfield, New Milford, Montrose, Bridgewater, Standing Stone ; in what is now Monroeton, and comprises several churches, including a Universalist, but was then no village at all; in Sheshequin, Ulster, Towanda — seat of justice for Bradford county; in Athens, Factory ville, at Daggett's Mills, etc., etc.; these in Pennsylvania: but my field also embraced numerous places in the counties of Tioga, Broome, Chenango, Delaware, Ulster, Greene, Sullivan, Orange, and other counties in New York, besides many parts of Sussex, Morris, and Essex counties, in New Jer- sey. My vocation it will be conceded, was anything but a sinecure. I have more than once traveled the live-long night in order to meet distant appointments : having done so on one occasion, I became so benumbed with cold, and jaded with fatigue and loss of sleep, that, when about day- break, I knocked at the door of a worthy couple, named Worthington, at Orwell Springs, Bradford county, I could little more command my tongue than though I were laboring under a paralisis. This couple were Methodists by membership, but Universalists in faith; I once or twice preached in their house. I claim little credit for this severe activity, however, for my turn of mind and pecu- liar constitution rendered it at once both agreeable to my inclination and beneficial to my health. Yet I must do myself the justice to say, that on the score of motive^ I think I may presume to claim the merit of sincerity, at 100 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS least, if not of an ardent, self-sacrificing, and self-forget- ting zeal. I stopped not at any time — God knoweth, yea, and so knoweth all who know me — to consult with my pri- vate interests; when a call came, no matter from whom or whence, my first impulse was to meet it, and when, as was often the case, I returned from a visit of a hundred miles from home, with as empty a pocket as when I started, I grudged not the toil and time bestowed, if I but felt that I had not labored in vain in respect to those for whom I made the sacrifice. That I sometimes returned home with an aching and bitter heart, I will not hesitate to confess : too often, indeed, have I beenwondering what my family would do for bread, while those who were able to render a sub- stantial answer to that question have been loading me with eoiipty thanks, instead, and with invitations to increase my chances of starvation by visiting them again. When I had been something over a year in Susquehanna county, I had the satisfaction of having my labors there shared by Alfred Peck, an able preacher, my senior in years and professional standing. He fixed his residence at Montrose, the county seat, whence also he issued a semi- monthly paper, of which, for a time, 1 acted as co-editor with him; it ceased at the close of his second year. In that paper I commenced the publishing of those journals of travel with which 1 have, from time to time, taxed the good nature of our several periodical readers to the pre- sent day. My apology is, that they cost but little mental labor, and gratify my propensity for description and nar- rative. In what remains to be written of these memoran- da I shall have much occasion to draw upon those docu- ments, for since I began to commit my public history to that sort of record, my memory has absolved itself of the cd^ligation of keeping the same in charge. In August following my settlement in Susquehanna county, (1831,) I received a formal letter of fellowship from the Chenango Association of Universalists, convened at Upper Lisle, New York. A letter was also at the same time received by Jason Lewis, since favorably known as a writer in our periodicals. The Brooklyn Society had so- licited for me the right of ordination, but that was not granted, as the Association could not confer it consistently with its constitution, which required that the applicant should have received a letter at a previous session of the body. Still, the Brooklyn Society could itself have con- OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 101 ferred it at any subsequent period, but I cared not to ad- vance by forced marches into the confidence and offices o'f the denomination, and I therefore waited until the As- sociation's next session, which was at South Bainbridge, New York. Charles S. Brown, was also ordained at the same time. Job Potter preaching the sermon on the occasion. Immediately after my ordination, I made a journey through Delaware, Greene, and Duchess counties. New York, and to Danbury, in Connecticut. The following sketch of it may not be unacceptable to the reader. Taking leave of George Messenger and his wife — whose guest I had been during the meeting — I passed up the Susquehanna to the beautiful village of Una- dilla, where Job Potter and I held a meeting in the evening, and lodged for the night with Esquire Benton, whose house occupied a shaded area by itself on the prin- cipal street. Thence I proceeded easterly to Franklin Village, on the Catskill turnpike, where I preached the first Universalist sermon ever delivered in that part of Delaware county. It was a place of much bigotry, and I was violently opposed at the conclusion by a clerical stu- dent, who was so far qualified for his profession, at least, that he could recite the parable of the rich man and Laze- rus, and furthermore, he had somehow arrived at the pro- found discovery that the Devil was the first Luiver:-alist preacher! Yet from even such hands I escaped alive. I thence proceeded, still easterly, to Kortright, and Harpersfield, at each of which places I several times preached. The sources of the Delaware river lie there- about. Next I passed down the Delaware to Delhi, the capital of the county, which is a well built and finely sit- uated town. The male inhabitants were mostly at a militia training a few miles out. I went thither, and looked amongst them for a countenance that might please me — faces were consulted for character in those days, not heads. Having selected an individual to my liking, I introduced myself to him, and stated the purpose of my visit to the parts. He proved favorable thereto, and taking me to where General R. was standing, he introduced me to that personage, and solicited his interest on my behal£ " I must hear him answer a question first," replied that eccentric old gentleman, and turning to me he asked, "If all are to be saved at last, of what use is preaching? An- swer me quick," he added, " and without premeditation." 102 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS I replied in a manner which both satisfied and amused him, and, as his influence in the parts was unbounded, he pro- cured me a house to preach in, and a large congrega* tion. My next move was to Colchester, over the rugged and desolate ridge which separates the east and west branches of the Delaware. Colchester occupies a small stony delta, just big enough to afford it footing, which is all the level ground there is between the former of those streams and the mountain. A ruder region is scarcely conceivable; the inhabitants depend on lumbering, and have to procure from abroad all that they need to subsist upon. The vil- lage is shut in from all the world besides by lofty and un- inhabitable mountains : in crossing the one of these that separates it from Hamden, I got the king-bolt of my vehicle broken, and had to descend a rocky and precipitous de- clivity for some two or three miles,' and ford the west branch of the river, ere I could reach a Smithshop for repairs. I preached on the great salvation at Colchester in the Methodist meeting house, and when I had ended, and had sung a hymn to the same cheering effect, a lady broke forth with a song about the awfulness of hell, and the comfort which she and a few others took in the pros- pect of escaping the same and enjoying the bliss of heaven. At Hamden and Walton, in the same region, I also de- livered several sermons. A little Society existed at the latter place of sincere and simplehearted believers, to whom the visit of a preacher was as refreshing as rain in a season of draught. Prominent amongst them was father Eels, whose face was a familiar one at all our associations that met within a hundred miles of his home. He is a happier worshiper now in happier assemblies. Keturning to Delhi 1 had a less pleasant meeting than before. I then discovered that the principle men of the town were sceptics, of the Owen school, and that they had mistaken me to be of similar sentiments. And what won- der? They had repeatedly heard Universalists so repre- sented by Orthodox clergymen, and, being ignorant of us, they had credited the representation. When, therefore, on my return, I alighted at the hotel where I lodged, they swarmed about me in a high state of excitement — the con- sequence of some mad fanatical proceedings that were in operation in the town at the time — and with oaths and exe- crations requested me to be unsparing in my invectives OF A UNIVERSALIST PEEACHER 103 against priestcraft and the delusion of the christian reli- gion! Language would fail me for expressing the mortifi- cation I felt, at finding myself so misunderstood. It was not, however, till they were assembled at the place of my meeting that I undeceived them, and I then did so explicit- ly and pointedly, in terms substantially as follows : " Gentlemen, you are convened to hear a Universalist sermon; which is quite another thing, I would have you understand, than an infidel harrangue against religion i Universalists, gentlemen, are not infidels — they may be no better than infidels, in moral character and per- sonal qualities, but, better or worse, credit me gentlemen, they really are christians in creed and in feeling : Liberal christians, we term ourselves, in contradiction from those who receive the same inspired canon of faith in a less liberal construction. And, for myself, I can assure you, gentlemen, that Christianity in its worst form is preferable to infidelity in its best. " And farther, gentlemen, if you would act with effect against the religious madness of the time, allow me to as- sure you that your measures to that end are ill-chosen. It is not by cursing fanaticism over your cups that you can put it down; neither can it be done by abusing and deri- ding those who are its subjects. No, gentlemen, to the errors of men we must oppose reason; their extravagance we must conquer with moderation; and to their evil prac- tices we must oppose a higher example. Our better prin- ciples, if such we have, must commend themselves by their better influences over our temper and deportment; and, unless we can furnish something better, why, doubt- less, it were as well to leave them to the undisturbed en- joyment of their delusion. " Now Universalists, gentlemen, are persuaded that they can furnish something better than the errors of which they would disabuse their fellow men; it is their fanaticism that we oppose, not their religion-, their gloomy and soul cor- roding fears, not their confidence in God, nor their hope of heaven. Oh ! for world's would we not despoil sorrow- ing man of that soothing faith, which is his soul's starlight during the night of the earthly pilgrimage. On the con- trary, our peculiar mission is to strengthen that faith, and to widen its horizon to the amplitude which is warranted by the Creator's love and his word of promise," etc., etc. This address was respectfully received by the audience. 104 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS Gen. R. received it standing, and acknowledged its ap- plicability to himself by an occasional bow. for he made no secret of his disbelief of Christianity. That same Gen. R., nevertheless, was president of a Bible and Prayer Book society that existed in the town, so usual is it for public men to connect themselves with what is popular, in disregard of right principle. And, alas, that it should be so! so usual is it also for popular religions to court such alliances. "But," remonstrated I when he had informed me of the fact, " how can you consent to belong to a soci- ety with whose objects you cannot sympathize?" " Hang the sympathy!" was his answer, " Fll join any society that will make me its president." It would be difficult to describe the reckless extravagance of fanaticism which raged through all that region at that time. A class of strolling preachers, termed revivalists, made it their special business to go from place to place — wherever they were loell paid for going — and inflame the religious passions of the people to an almost phrensicd height. No language was too insolent towards men for these revivalists, nor too blasphemous towards God : many of her prayers and denunciations were shocking past de- scription, and past belief too, I should fear, except to those who have heard the like. " Stop ! stop !" once ex- claimed one of these ranters, as an elder of the church was addressing the Majesty of heaven in the reverential strain to which he had been accustomed, "Stop! I say, such a prayer as that is enough to freeze hell over — Mr. so-and-so," to one of his satelites, who accompanied him to do the journeywork of such occasions, ^^ you pray, and teach these people how to make the Holy Ghost hear them." This was a Mr. Burchard, besides whom there was a Fin- ney, a Foote, a Littlejohn, and others. The last named was subsequently convicted of having been all the while a gross hypocrite and libertine : it was proved against him that, in one instance while conducting a protracted meet- ing, he feigned illness, and made attempts on the virtue of the female member ol the church who was engaged to nurse him. She exposed him to the ministers and elders who were present at the meeting, and they advised the conceal- ing of the affair, lest its exposure might counteract the work of the Lord that was then in progress! All this, and more, was proved, both in a civil and in an ecclesiastical court; and there is extant a printed report of the same. OF A UKIVERSALIST PREACHER. 105 I was frequently on the tracks of these several men, and had good opportunity of becoming acquainted with their respective systems of operation. I found that they everywhere said the same things, and in the same man- ner — -even their startling and blasphemous sentences, which seemed the ebullitions of momentary impulse, were, nevertheless, stereotyped for the occasion and everywhere repeated. The Mr. Foote afore-mentioned, had a tactic peculiarly his own; wherever he went for the purpose of getting up a revival, he w^ould manage to fasten a gross insult of some sort on some individual who enjoyed the public con- fidence in an eminent degree. This, of course, would produce a sensation through the community, and, as ex- citement is the essential aliment of revivalism, he was sure of thus effecting that object at least. At Delhi, Meredith'^ Franklin, North Bainbridge, wherever I went in the tracks'' of this man, I could hear of his having played that pre- cise game, and I hence infer that it was a settled part of his tactics. Well, he visited and commenced a protracted meeting at South Bainbridge, where was a large meeting house owned jointly by the Presbyterians and Universalists. who occupied it every other Sabbath in turns. It chancedi that the Sabbath included in the term of his visit, was the Universalists day in the house; moreover, it was the day appointed to be observed as one of thanksgiving by the whole Universalist body, and the pastor at South Bain- hridge, George Messinger, had accordingly given out weeks before that he would preach a sermon appropriate to the occasion on that day. When, therefore, application was made to him for a surrender of the house in favor of Mr. Foote, and a suspension of his own services, he could not comply without too serious an inconvenience, as many of his congregation would be in from miles i^i the country. Nevertheless, by a strain of courtesy, he consented to- forego his own services till one o'clock, P. M., which was quite satisfactory to the Presbyterians, as it would insure the attendance at their meeting both of himself and hivs congregation. Well, the Sabbath came, clear, balmy, peaceful, eloquent of the eternal Father's complacency towards his mortal offspring, and bearing to man's heart, in the happy song* of birds and the grateful incense of flowers, reproaches- for its distrustfulncss of that Fatiher's changeless Iov€j.. 8 106 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS On such days, methinks, the angels come down and breathe the air of heaven into men's souls. From all quarters the people were thronging to the church; those who on ordi- nary occasions parted off to separate sanctuaries for wor- ship, were now going up to the house of God in company. Among the rest were two physicians, one a Presbyterian, the other a Uuniversalist; these were remarking with high satisfaction on the moral beauty of the picture, and ex- pressing wishes that it could always be thus. But here a stern voice broke in from behind them, " Who talks thus of agreement with infidels?" it demanded. "Who wants any agreement with them?" "Mr. Foote," said the Pres- byterian physician, allow me to introduce you to my re- spectable friend Doctor Benton." "Doctor Benton 1" ex- claimed the fanatic, recoiling a step or two, "Why, he is a Universalist 1" Then advancing, and pointing his clench- ed hand towards his face, he exclaimed with angry em- phasis, " Doctor Benton, your character is as Mack as hell .'" Now the man to whom this was said, was a resident of long standing in those parts, and had been known from his boyhood by the Presbyterian physician who had given him the introduction. Moreover, it is not too much to say, that a more amiable citizen, and one more forward in every good enterprise, did not exist in that community. And that such was his reputation was well known to Mr. Foote; indeed, it was doubtless for that reason that he had select- ed him as the object of his gross assault. In addition to that outrage, he occupied the meeting-house beyond the time for which it was granted to him, and employed the larger part of his sermon in invectives against the people by whose courtesy he had been allowed to occupy it. Then, as if he feared he had not yet filled the measure of his vileness, he impudently announced that he should oc- cupy the house after a given limited time, and he enjoined the " people of God " to assemble elsewhere to pray meanwhile 1 So much for a sample of the revivalists of that day, from which the reader will perceive that protest- antism may assume forms of oppressiveness and demorali- zation, in respect to a community amongst which it exists, quite equal to what Catholicism can in this country be ever expected to exhibit. At that same period — and what marvel ? — Atheism was fearfully prevalent all over the country. I feared that it might obtain the ascendancy that it did in France during OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 107 'the period of the revolution. The cause thereof, in both instances, was identical in principle, for protestant priest- craft is as really and as odiously such as is the priestcraft of the papacy. It seldom happens, I think, that men op- pose religion from an innate antipathy thereto; it much oftener is the case that they reject it because of the cor- ruptions with which it has been mixed up, and the oppres- sions that have been practiced under its alleged sanction, I seriously feared, at the time of which I am writing, that a very general rejection of Christianity would ensue; and oh ! what misfortune to a country has patriotism more rea- son to deprecate? Thank God! that season of madness in religion, and of Atheism resulting therefrom, has measura- bly passed away, and Christianity is regaining the high place in the public mind and heart to which, by its intrin- sic exc.dlence, it is well entitled. And if I should claim for Universalism, under God, the merit of having largely contributed to this result, shall I incur the suspicion of sectarian partiality thereby? How- ever that may be, I do deliberately, conscientiously, and from positive knowledge so claim. If other proof of the fact were wanting, this would suffice, namely, that in any community of which Universalists compose a considerable portion, you shall invariably find fewer infidels than where orthodox forms of religion have exclusive sway. Another proof is, that very many who are now Universalists, and who are sincere believers in Christianity, were formerly infidels, and made such by the absurdities of the popular religion. Few things have so cheered and strengthened my heart, as — having preached a course of sermons in a place where our doctrine was new — my hand has been warmly grasped by one and another, who have said, " Sir, as you preach Christianity, I can both believe in it and love it; it is worthy of the Divine Being from whom it professes to emanate; there is nothing repugnant to hu- man reason therein, nor shocking to the natural sensibili- ties. Thank God! sir, that your feet have been directed to this place; you have been instrumental in delivering me from a condition of cheerless scepticism, and of furnish- ing my hopes with solid anchor-ground." That I have often in the course of my ministry, very often, been ad- dressed to this effect, God is witness. But I have been betrayed into a long digression — let us return to the account of my journey. Resuming my route (08 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVEL& in an easterly direction, I again preached at Harpersfieki on the evening of the 11th, and at Oakhill village, Dur- ham, on the evening of the 12th, The notice at the latter place was not given out till after sunset, yet the gathering was tolerable. I found a friend there in S. S. Allen. I drove next day about fifty miles to meet an appointment at Pineplain village, Dechess county, where I became ac- quainted with Dr. Allerton, a conscientious believer, with whose conversation I was much edified. " The word of God," said he, " is the foundation of my hopes. I dont allow myself to hope beyond its authority. I have exam- ined with care the sceptical writings, but they only lead to darkness. When I want light from eternity, I go to the Scriptures for it, and they satisfy — more than satisfy me, I believe," continued he, " that God will surely punish sin, and I also believe that he will in due time ' make an end of sin,' for both these truths the Scriptures teach, and 1 believe them; and, sir, if sceptics are disposed to call my faith credulity, they are at liberty, but I am satisfied.'^ Amen, so am I. i love to name such Universalists- as I fell in with in the- eoiirse of my travels, who dared to avow their much de- spised and calumniated faith, unawed by the prospect of persecution which such an avowal involved. More espe- cially as there are so many tiny-spirited: creatures who pass for Universalists, when no pressing emergency/ requires them to ACT in that character; but so soon as circomstances- arise which call for a display of their manhood, you will find that they never happened to have such an article, its- use not being required in the ordinary line of their pur- suits. On the night of the 14th, I put up with George Perry, a (Jniversalist of the true stamp, who kept the Stone Church Hotel, at Dover Plains, Duchess county. The next morn- ing I took a walk, in company with a gentleman of the- sceptic school, to see the natural curiosity from which the hotel takes its name. It is situated in the east side of the Dover mountain, which here forms the western boundary of the level and beautiful tract of country called Dover Plains. The church itself — ^I describe it from my present im- perfect recollection, having taken no notes on the spot — - consists of a semi-circular area, formed by a slight curve in the side of the mountain^ In the middle of this curv^ OF A imiVERSALIST PREACHER, 109 ts an aperture, with a perpendicular entrance, from which issues a brawling rivulet Immediately over this opening (which is triangular in form, with the base resting on the earth) lies a large loose fragment of rock, which, from its form and situation, is called " the pulpit," As you penetrate the aperture by a pretty steep ac- clivity, you find the course of the stream to be winding and very rugged. The noise it produces is increased to a stunning degree by the reverberations of the sound against the rocky sides and roof of the passage; for, although the mountain is cleft through to the top, yet the chasm both horizontally and vertically, being in a zigzag direction, your head is, for a part of the way, completely roofed over. Proceeding on, you find the passage narrower and more rugged, till you have attained a stand on a large rock, on both sides of which the apparently terrified stream seeks a path of escape from its gloomy prison. Here the scene suddenly changes. You are not prepared for a spectacle so beautiful as now presents itself. Look up the avenue; before you is a perpendicular ledge of about forty feet in height, off which the streamlet leaps, in a beautiful and unbroken cascade, into a pure and transparent basin be- low. The effect is overpowering to a mind in love with the works of Nature. My sceptical companion had no leisure to admire the scene. His mind was occupied with collecting ideal proofs to favor his comfortless philosophy. " See those rocks,'^ said he, *' they bear the appearance of having been worn away by the stream. How many thousands of ages must have transpired during this process!" Therefore the Mo- saic account of the creation is untrue. This is the con- clusion to which he wished to arrive. Alas! I was too blind to perceive the correctness of the premises! On the whole, this curiosity is well worth a visit, and will amply repay the curious who have the means and leisure for the journey of a few hundred miles; and should any of my readers be induced to do homage to Nature in this sanctuary of the sublime and the beautiful, they will find that, concerning it, " the half has not been told them." I reached Danbury, in Connecticut, that evening, where on the morrow, Sunday the 13th, I preached three ser- mons. The brethren there were few, but they were HO EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS achieving wonders by dint of zeal and perseverance. A splendid temple was being raised to an impartial God. On the 7th I went to North Salem, New York, to wit- ness the dedication of a new Universalist meeting-house- Thomas J. Sawyer, of New York city, preached the dedi- catory sermon; and T. F. Whitcomb, then of Schenectady, preached in the afternoon. The services were crowdedly attended. I delivered a discourse in the evening. 1 here became acquainted with Father Glover, the eldest living minister in our connexion. He was held in high and very general respect. I preached in Saugatuck, in Bethel, and again at Dan- bury, three sermons, on Sunday the 23d. From thence I returned to Dover Plains, where I preached, and also at Amenia. The congregations at all those meetings were quite large, notwithstanding that there was no moon, and many who attended, came a distance of several miles. I was deeply affected by the account which a respectable lady in Amenia gave me, concerning the death of her only daughter, which took place some four or five hun- dred miles from the home of her parents. She died strong in the faith of a world's salvation. She had cherished that faith in her far-off sojourning; among strangers, whose lot it had not been to " hear the joyful sound.^ And her light had brightly shone amid the night of par- tialism which gloomed around her. " Many a time has she soothed me with the voice of comfort" — thus ran the letter which the mother received from a female friend of her daughter's, after her decease, and which the miOther read me — " while I passed through the fires of persecution, which, after renouncing their cruel faith, I experienced from the believers in a partial God. Hers' was then an angel's influence to calm my troubled heart, and I shall bear with me to my grave, the remembrance of her kind and endearing attentions." Another letter from a gentle- man who had made her house his home for more than a year, also bore honorable testimony to the steadiness of the light of her faith, in life and death. "The last time I saw her," he writes, " she was on the borders of eternity. She reached forth her hand to bid me a last adieu. * I shall soon be,' she said, ' where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest. If I could but see my dear mother before 1 die, I should be resigned.' Your lovely daughter is now beneath the clods of the valley — OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. Ill she sleeps in the dust;" so ran the letter, and the mother's Toice grew tremulous as she proceeded; "but, it must be a consolation to you to know that she was willing to depart and be with Christ; and that she was enabled to triumph in the God of her salvation/' The mother showed me a painted miniature likeness of her daughter, which repre- sented her as a lovely woman, with a most benevolent countenance. "I was asked," said she, " by a Methodist minister, whether my daughter was a professor. Not much of that, said I, but she was a possessor^ " There certainly is a distinction," he replied. From Amenia i proceeded on to Kingston, Ulster county, I called on James M'lnty, at Kingston landing, by whom I was hospitably entertained. I preached in the dining hall of his hotel on Sunday 30th, in the forenoon, and in the Court House at Kingston, in tho evening. Kingston land- ing, or Bolton, is situated on the North river, at the mouth of the Roundout creek, two miles below the junction of the Delaware and Hudson canal : it is a very busy and in- teresting place. In Kingston village I found a zealous and liberal friend of the cause in the widow RatclifT. The next day I arrived at Cairo, in Greene county, where I preached on the evening of October 2d. Our cause had there a very respectable beginning. In driving thence the next day for Brooklyn, my horse sprained his shoulvder, and was consequently unable to proceed. This circumstance delayed my return by a week. I tarried in Harpersfield three days, and delivered three lectures there on Sunday the 7th. The lameness of my horse proved to be no very serious matter, so that, proceeding by short stages, I was enabled to reach home by the following Sunday. My heart glad- dened at what I had witnessed of the increasing prosperi- ty of the cause of truth. I was concerned in an incident and conversation about this time, an account whereof may be interesting, as throwing some light on the question of the practical influ- ences of my faith, as contrasted with that of endless mis- ery. I was journeying toward the m.outh of Tunkhan- flock creek, which is the most considerable stream in Sus- quehanna county; being overtaken by night, I obtained accommodations for myself at a farm-house on the road. The family and myself were entire strangers to each other. With the man of the house, Esquire M., I was soon en- 112 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS gaged in a free conversation on various topics, which last- ed till bed time; but nothing transpired to elicit a discovery of my religious sentiments. Previous to my departure in the morning, however, I perceived that my host had a cu- riosity on that head, and without waiting for him to over- come his delicacy so far as to question me thereupon — which in a yankee usually requires no great while — I in- formed him that I was the pastor of the Universalist socie- ties of Brooklyn and Harford. I perceived at once that he was pained at the announcement; a shade of pity pass- ed over his countenance as he said, in a dejected tone, '* I am sorry to hear that, my young friend. 1 had conceived an unusual liking for you, and was led from your con- versation to believe you a christian. And so, you are really a Universalist preacher! So young too! I well knew your predecessor, Mr. Marsh, he also was very young, and of a most lovely character. Dear me! how does it happen that Satan succeeds in enlisting in his ser- vice so many persons, who by their amiable personal qual- ities are so well fitted to captivate and deceive!" " Is it not possible, sir," I asked, " that those amiable persons are in the employ of a diiferent master?" " I would willingly admit this to be possible," he re- plied, " if I could stretch my charity so far, but I cannot. (Jniversalists, whatever else they may be, are not men of prayer. This, young man, you must allow, Universalist* are not a praying people. '''' "But the Pharisees were, sir; yet it did not prevent their being hypocrites and persecutors. Much, however, depends on the sense you attach to the phrase, praying people, whether we are to be considered such or not. But let that pass. We will, if you please, institute a compari'- son between those who, in your sense of the title, are praying people, and those who are not so, with regard to their respective characters, moral and social. For, you must allow, sir, that if prayer is of no advantage in im- proving the character of a people, they may as well dis^ pense with it." He assented to this, and we proceeded to the investiga- tion. We confined ourselves to the parts with which we both were acquainted, beginning at the embouchure of the ci-eek on which he lived. " That spot by nature," said I, " is a most delightful one ; the stranger as he passes over it is apt to think it OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHEE. 113 must needs be a desirable place of abode, and he is tempt- ed to envy its inhabitants who, being surrounded by so much that invites to the pursuit of peace and virtue, must of course be a contented and happy people. But tell me, sir, truly and unreservedly, how stands the fact?" " Truly and unreservedly then," he answered, " I must own that it is a very corrupt community, audit is also true, nevertheless, that nearly all the persons composing it be- long to one or another of the different churches there." " And," added I, " are what you term praying people, of course. Would it not be better, if they could be termed an amiahh and upright people?" * I next inquired his opinion of a neighborhood about ten miles up the same creek, the prmcipal members of which were of, or at least favored, the Universal ist faith. He confessed that in moral respects, and for the virtues of charity and hospitality, he could not wish it other than what it was. Only, said I, facetiously, you, perhapa, would wish them to be a praying people. His own neighborhood came next in turn; as a magis- trate he had the fairest possible opportunity of knowing intimately the characters of those who composed it, and they were nearly all of them praying people — members of one church. He shook his head sadly, and owned the ad- vantage there to be altogether on my side. We then, and hastily, compared the Presbyterians and Universalists of Harford — where I then lived — for between these two sects the community was divided; he was well acquainted with the individuals on both sides, and he admitted without re- serve that, however estimable those of the former sect might be, those of the latter were, at the least, quite equally so. Well, said Esquire M., after we had got through the comparison, this is surely a novel mode of testing the worth of people's professions, and numerous prayings! I never before thought of weighing them in such a balance. It is, however, I must own, a very just and satisfactory one. It is strange that the readers of the Gospel do not see, that Jesus was not, in the cant sense of the phrase, a pray- * With the pre!^©nt inhabitants of that place, the above has noth- ing to do; fourteen years have since transpired, during which great changes for good may have taken place : it is to be hoped so at least. About that time, a gang of counterfeiters had been detected there, iVjearly all of whom were church members. 114 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS ing man — although he undoubtedly was so in its nobler sense — so far from it, indeed, that his disciples were under the necessity of asking him for instruction in this branch of devotion, which would not have been the case had they as often heard him exercised therein as modern teachers of religion usually are. But the most virulent and un- principled persecutors Jesus had, were as praying a people as the world has ever contained. The priest and Levite passed unheedingly by their countryman, who lay wounded and bleeding by the road-side : yet they were bending their steps toward the house of God to pray! The Savior has thus strikingly shown us, how little influence for good people's prayers sometimes have upon their humane feel- mgs. Christ's kingdom is composed of such as do the will of his Father in heaven, and not of such as say. Lord I Lord ! At Danbury, some overtures had been made me toward a settlement as pastor of the society there. The situation was, in many respects, preferable to the one I occupied; my labor would have been less arduous, and my salary greater. Nevertheless, when — after we had visited it to- gether — I came to talk over the matter of removal with my wife, our conclusion was to remain where we were. Our reason was, that as that part of Connecticut was a far more attractive region than Susquehanna county, and as it held out larger inducements to a preacher than the latter, it would, in all probability, be much sooner sup- plied with one, than would the latter in case of our re- moval. We reflected that, in Susquehanna county were many most amiable people, whom, for their mere inability to pay as liberally and the ruggedness of their country, it would be a pity to leave, while the prospect was faint that another would soon be got to supply my place. On our return from Danbury, we stopped an hour or two in Poughkeepsie, on the North river, where my wife made some purchases toward house-keeping, as she judged she could do so more advantageously than at our country stores at home. We had purposed reaching Kingston that night, which is distant about twenty miles from Poughkeep- sie, and on the opposite side of the river; we had acquain- tances there, with whom we had designed to lodge for the night, and from thence we meant to proceed to Cairo^ where I had an appointment to preach on the Sabbath. The latter town is distant from Poughkeepsie, by the way OF A UNIVERSALIST PEEACHER- 116 of Kingston, about forty miles — but that is a very hilly and rugged route — by the way of Rhinebeck and Catskill it is ten miles farther, but the route is both more level and through a handsomer country. On our leaving Pough- keepsie, however, we found it too late to admit of our reaching Kingston that night, and short of there we knew of no place where we could tarry for the night, free of charge; we therefore abandoned that route, and took the smoother though longer one. On the other hand, we had no acquaintances at all on the latter for the whole fifty miles, and must therefore be on expense all the way. Then it became a question with us, how could we meet that expense ? We had just one dollar left. We neither of us had dined that day, and it was wearing ton ard night The keeping of our horse over night would cost the full half our money. Then there was the river to cross, which would cost another fourth, and we should have but twenty-five cents left, with which to pay for our own sup- pers, lodging, and breakfast; besides that, we had two toll- gates to pass through. As I, in my various rambles, had become pretty well practised in starvation, I threw my own supper and breakfast out of the calculation to see how that would come out. Still, there remained our lodg- ing, my wife's supper and breakfast, our horse-keeping, an additional feeding for him on the way; our ferriage, and the toll through two gates; all out of one dollar. Could we throw ourselves on somebody's charity for a night's entertainment? Hardly: it would be somewhat awkward to go a begging in a carriage, and it loaded with valuables 1 Well, what then could we do? I never studied any problem more seriously, nor with fainter prospect of a satisfactory solution ; in fact, I could make nothing of it, and I know not what would have been the issue, had not Providence mercifully stepped in and solved it for us, just as all our own resources failed. We had passed the village of Rhinebeck, — where I had tried, but ineffectually, to get up a meeting — and were ascending a long and steep hill. A two-horse wagon was close behind us. I had just, in a feeling of despair, thrown myself back into a listless position, and muttered to my wife that the night was al- jeady upon us, and we without any feasible prospect of a lodging; when the wagoner, who had got out to walk up the hill, came alongside of our carriage and enquired, *^ How far do you mean to go to night? if it is a fair ques" 116 ErPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS tion." " Perfectly fair, my friend," I replied, " but not easiiy answered, and for the reason that we do not know our- selves; it is the very point that we have been puzzling ourselves to find out for these several hours past." I then frankly disclosed to him our real situation, and he inform- ed us that he kept a house of entertainment immediately on our road, where we might be accommodated for the night at half the usual tavern charge. We most gladly closed with his offer; and besides that, our quarters proved to be very agreeable. We were thus enabled to reach Cairo with what funds we had, though it brought our last penny into requisition. As the winter had overtaken us before we got home, it was a subject of anxious inquiry between us on the way, how I should contrive to procure suitable clothing for my- self for that season. The winters of that region are ter- ribly bleak, and I had to be much out in them. I can truly al ledge that my income at that time, in all ways in which I received it, did not amount to two hundred dollars per annum ; and out of that I had a horse to maintain. I was already somewhat in debt, and could not think of involving myself more deeply by procuring, on credit, the clothing I needed. We therefore were right sorely perplexed on that head. Our way home lay through Montrose, where we made a night's tarry with Alfred Peck. We had hardly got there, when Mrs. Peck handed me a parcel, which she informed me was a present from a Mr. Parker, who kept a woolen manufactory at the mouth of Meshoppen creek, where 1 had several times preached. The parcel supplied the very articles that had been the subjects of our anxiety ! Are such coincidences brought about by accident ? Or are even the minutest of human interests under the constant supervision of an ever-watchful Eye? About that time, I made my first visit to Sheshequin, in Bradford county, where was a Universalist society, in pos- session of a good meeting-house. The distance from home was about fifty miles, over a range of exceedingly high hills, terminating with the mountain which forms the eastern boundary of the vale of Sheshequin, and the Susquehanna river. It was my lot to cross that mountain after night fall, and amid a heavy thunder storm; which, added to the mountain forest, shed an almost inky darkness on my path. I was forced to dismount and lead my horse, feeling my way with my feet, save as flash after flash revealed it to OF A TJNIVERSALIST PEEACHERo 117 the eye for little distances. At this cautious rate I was till near eleven o'clock in reaching a friendly house; in ano- ther moment — as they told me — the light, whose glimmer- ing at the window alone made the house visible, would have been extinguished. Can you keep a Universalist preacher here to-night? I inquired. O! certainly, respond- ed a mild, sweet voice; we have been all the evening expecting your arrival. In a year or so after that I united the owner of that sweet welcoming voice to a neighboring young man. who was a convert to the truth through my ministry; and Julia H. Kinney — subsequently Mrs. Scott, who became eminent amongst us as a poetess — stood as her bridesmaid. They were born and had lived all their lives next door to each other, and loved as sisters. I oft extended my rides to Bradford county after the visit aforedescribed, and preached at Athens, Ulster, Smith- field, Springfiold, Troy, Canton, Standing Stone, Towanda, Orwell, Monroeton, Wyalusing, etc. There are, indeed, few of its hills, hollows, and vales — and it has many of all these — over which I may not at some time have been seen wending my way. 1 shall not be likely to forget my first visit to what is called Old Sheshequin. It is situated over against the southern extremity of Sheshequin proper. Ten of us together crossed over to it on a winter's night, in a little crazy skiif, which sunk under her live load to within a few inches of the top of her gunwale. She leak- ed, moreover, and the river abounded with floating ice, through Islands of which we had to force our way, which sM) much retarded us that the leakage brought the water in the skiff up to our ancles; our ancles, 1 say, I mean of those who had the good fortune to be on their feet, but 8ome two or three of our bulkiest passengers of both sexes, were squatted down in the bottom, and so remained per force, for the jam was so great as to. prevent them f *om bettering their condition. The poetess employed herself in a new style of bailing, which consisted in soaking her pocket handkerchief in the water of the leak and wringing it out over the side. For nr, jelf I got off with a well soaked pair of feet, and I had to preach with them in that condition, as the congregation had been for sometime as- sembled when we got over. However, it has seldom been my privilege to preach to as good purpose as I did on that night and several nights succeeding; the result was that quite a revolution was effected in the religious character 118 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS of the place, much to the surprise as well as delight of the people of Sheshequin. In Athens village also, my labors were attended with the same success. Athens lies over against the northern limit of the Sheshequin, and is more commonly called Tioga Point, from its occupying an angle formed by the junction of the Tioga river with the Susquehanna. I frequently preached there, but it was during a twelve days' meeting of the Presbyterians in the place, that I did so with best effect. In their discourses during their long meeting the Presbyterian clergymen did not stint their abuse of Uni- versalism, nor of its advocates; had a tithe of the evil been said of themselves by others they would have termed it persecution, and solaced themselves with the persuasion that they were enduring it for Christ's sake. It is, how- ever, no uncommon thing for injustice to defeat its own ends. An excellent young man of their party was, by those very vituperations, induced to attend one of my meet- ings; his object was, as he afterwards said, to witness for himself with what degree of effrontery doctrines so absurd and so impious would be presented. When, how- ever, he noticed the decorum of our worship; the fixed and respectful attention of the audience; the reverence for inspired authority exhibited in the preaching, and the fullness and force of scripture evidence with which our doctrine could be maintained; the scales at once fell from his eyes, and he frankly avowed himself a convert to the doctrine of the discourse. Nor was this avowal prema- ture, for his conversation evinced that he had a just and clear apprehension of the subjects; notwithstanding that it was the first sermon of the kind he had ever heard. Another young man, an Episcopalian, became a convert to the faith through the same discourse. As to the Presby- terian convert, he was not long in finding, to his cost, that now, as in Paul's time, they who " trust in the living God as the Savior of all men," must "labor and suffer re- proach." His own brother, a deacon of the church from whose pale he had withdrawn, forbid him his house ex- cept he would forego the liberty of speech on the subject of his new faith. That same brother, by the way, enjoyed, even amongst the members of his own religious commu- nion, far more credit for piety than for honesty; indeed, however well off he may have been considered with re- gard to the former, he was deemed little better than bank- rupt with respect to the latter. OF A UNIVERSALIS! PREACHER. 119 What is now the village of Monroeton, in Bradford county, was then the seat of but a few mean and widely scattered houses. It now contains several neat churches, one of which is owned by the Universalists. In those days the only house of worship in the place was a school- room, and it was subject to the use of all denominations. I was badly used there, at several different times, by a couple of Methodist preachers ; they would attend upon my preaching, and, after I was gone, would make a show of reviewing and refuting it, notwithstanding that I re* spectfully and repeatedly solicited them to urge their objections to my sermons at the close of the same, when I was present to answer them. But reviewing my sermons in my absence did not content them, they also abused me personally, calling me " a green-eyed boy," in allusion to the glasses I wore for the weak state of my eyes. Well, they were on the strong side, and for the weak there was no redress. But a time of retribution came at length — " though hand join in hand, the wicked shall not be un- punished." More than a year had elapsed, and I again had an appointment to preach at Monroeton; it chanced that those same two preachers held a meeting there in the former part of the same day. When they were through, my friend, Gordon Mason, announced to the audience that I would be there in the evening, and he would take it upon him to promise that my discourse should be on the sub- jects treated of by those who had just addressed them. A large congregation attended. I began by taking a brief retrospective view of the relations in which those preach- ers and I stood to each other; expressed my satisfaction at their being present, as, in all cases, I was exceedingly averse to assailing the sentiments of persons in their ab- scence. I begged the audience, as the sermons I was about to review were fresh in their minds, to listen candidly to what I should submit to their consideration, and to weigh it in an equitable balance with the opposing views which had already been presented on the same subjects. They did listen, with an almost unbreathing attention, and their verdict, subsequently, was — unanimous, so far as I could gather — that, however true or false Universalism might be in the general, so far as those particular points were con- cerned, its truth was established past all doubt. Revisit- ing Monroeton recently, after a lapse often years, I found that the discourse of that evening was still fresh in the 120 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS memories of many, and more than one informed me that they dated their conversion to the truth from that eve- ning's meeting. Most christian sects seem to make a merit of having been persecuted at some time or other, and it is a favorite measure with them to make for their cause an interest in the public sympathies on that ground. But if the being persecuted is a favorable mark as to the christian charac- ter of a church, it is not sufficient that it should have suf- fered in the past, but that it should continue to suffer, otherwise there will be ground to suspect that it now is not truly christian, whatever it may once have been. This most evident conclusion seems to be wholly lost sight of. Truth is that the weak, in every cause, will be likely to suffer when they come into competition with the strong. Hence all parties — in politics, science, or religion, are apt to experience persecution whilst they are young and feeble, and, alas! to become persecutors themselves when they have acquired the due degree of power. 1 shall not, then, be understood as claiming for Univer- salism any peculiar value by the statement, that the oppo- sition which it has had to encounter from various sources, has fully equalled — nay, surpassed, what any religious cause in modern times has had to endure. Let us com- pare it with Methodism, for example. No candid person can acquaint himself with the history of the latter without being convinced that much of the opposition which it sus- tained was provoked, needlessly, by the wild rant and ex- travagance of its advocates; their meetings often proved a serious public nuisance; they would go amongst a people of whom they knew nothing, and, in no gentle terms, charge them with being totally depraved, and denounce even the most moral amongst them to endless flames. Hence the angry passions of the multitude were often excited against them, and m.agistrates, who had the public peace in keep- ing, felt bound to deal with them as with other riotous persons. The Methodists, however, could appeal to the prevalent doctrinal standards to prove themselves ortho- dox, and, addressing themselves principally to the passions, they could always find a considerable number in whom a latent fanaticism could be easily excited into active exer- cise; b'';ice thousands became attached to them from feel- ing, who had little knowledge of their distinctive princi- ples. OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 121 In all this their advantage over us was manifest. We had the reasoning faculties of men to arouse in relation to religion; we could not cite the received standards and plat- forms of faith in our favor; in respect to them we frankly avowed our views to be widely and irreconcilably hetero- dox; we had naught wherewith to bribe the self-esteem of men over to our side, for we could not promise them a monopoly of the divine favor, nor an exclusive freehold in Paradise. Hence they sneeringly asked, " Wherein are we to he advantaged by embracing your religion?" — for men had been taught to look beyond religion for the gains thereof, and would seem to have had no idea that its wealth lay within itself. We hau to make head against the almost universal prejudices of Christendom; their almost univer- sal misunderstanding, and consequent misapplication, of the sacred text; their innumerable army of preachers, tract-dispensers, Sunday-school teachers, and priest-ridden spinsters without number. Besides, (as was the case with Jesus and his Apostles,) our opposers were chia^y praying people; Rabbles, and rulers of synagogues, who in acting against us, no matter in what spirit, nor by what means, thought they were doing God service. We were de- nounced from all the pulpits and through all the presses of the country; tracts, as all-pervading as the Egyptian plague of frogs, croaked against us in every nook of Chris- tendom; our dying beds, even, were haunted with the view of extorting recantations from our weakness or our fears; and falsehood often reported success in these cases, when the fact vras totally and notoriously otherwise. But swearers, as well as men of prayer, manifested their aversion to our fiiith. 1 have myself, while preaching, been informed that I v/as a d — d liar; and once at a crowded meeting in Sussex county. New Jersey, as I was present- ing our views in contrast with those of Calvinism, an old gentleman who sat beside me broke out with the exclama- tion, "By G — d I wont stand that!" and seizing a candle from the stand, which he had probably contributed to the meeting, he blew it out, and made his escape from the house, muttering anathemas against me as long as he could be heard. In the same county, at the mouth of a creek called the Wallkill, I once went to preach on a Sab- bath afternoon; no Universalist clergyman had ever before visited that region. During my sermon 1 was subjected to every species of annoyance by the rudeness of certain 9 122 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS members of the congregation, whose design was to put me out, and thus frustrate the object of my visit; but I pene- trated the design, and did not allow myself to be diverted from the subject of the discourse, nor even to appear to be conscious of what was going on. When, however, I had got through preaching, I took occasion to remark, in a mild but pointed manner, that conduct of the kind which I had witnessed during my discourse was calculated to im- press a stranger very unfavorably with regard to the morals and intelligence of the commiinity. " It may be," said I, "that you are more accustom.ed to being dictated to, than affectionately reasoned with, on religious subjects; to be addressed in atone of authority, rather than as occupying, in God's esteem, an equal place with the preacher. Have I then, in your case, a verification of what some of our opponents alledge in regard to our doctrine, namely, that however harmless may be its influences on minds of a pure and elevated character, it is wholly unfitted to persons of low and coarse habits of thinking — to the ignorant and brutish — who need the scorpion whip of hell's terrors to restrain them within the rules of common decency'? I should be sorry to think that any of our race were so far fallen as to be unable to appreciate the language of reason and of love, and to be only open to the harsher influences of menace and authoritative command. You know, my friends, whether such is your condition; your conduct, viewed without charitable allowance, would lead me to con- clude that it is, but I am unwilling to harbor such a con- clusion, and will give you proof of my better opinion of you by appointing to address you again this evening, which I accordingly do." The effect of this reproof was, that they felt heartily ashamed of their conduct, and several of the more active disturbers of the meeting — members of a christian church, too! — came to the house of Mr. Bonnell, with whom I tar- ried, and confessed to me, that at their meeting in the morn- ing, and with the sanction of the person who led the services! — not a regular clergyman — they had made it up amongst themselves to attend my meeting and endeavor by all means to break it up. Their leader told them that there would be no sin in doing so, but rather a merit. In the evening they made what amends they could, by convening early at the place appointed and singing until my arrival; they also listened to my sermon with respectful attention, and ex- OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 123 pressed much satisfaction at the benevolent and reasonable character of its doctrines. Encouraged by this state of things, I returned in a fortnight after to preach again, but their clergyman had been amongst them in the meantime, (a Mr. Allen, Reformed Dutch,) who represented Univer- salists as worse than Atheists; denying God and the devil, heaven and hell, all distinction between right and wrong, blasphemers of religion, scoffers at prayer, and I know not what all. The consequence was that my next meeting was marked by the most open and shameless disturbance; men of Belial, as the Psalmist would have termed them, broke in on the sermon with hisses, and whistling, and most obscene and profane exclamations, which rendered it impossible for me to proceed to a conclusion, insomuch that Mr. Bonnell became seriously alarmed for my per- sonal safety; for, as he said, the intelligence of the people was so low, and their prejudices so violent, that, encour- aged by the bitter invectives of Mr. Allen against us, they might even kill me, and think they were serving God thereby. Thus in our time, as in PauPs, (see Acts xvii.) when bigoted men have need of tools for a low and mean work of persecution, which they are ashamed to do them- selves, they are not above employing " certain lewd fel- lows of the baser sort." At Branchville, in the same county, I found a more en- lightened and liberal community, to whom I frequently preached, in a meeting-house which was subject to the use of all religious denominations. It was built, mainly, at the expense of John Bell, Esq., an intelligent and influential citizen; with whom I was in the habit of making my home during my visits. So considerable an interest was excited in the parts relative to our faith, that, assisted by George Messinger, Samuel Ash ton, and James McLauren, I held a two days' meeting in Branchville, which was numerously attended. On the following Tuesday evening, George Messinger and I held a meeting in Sandiston, eight miles west of Branchville; the congregation was very numerous and at- tentive. George Messinger delivered a sermon, to which I added some remarks. When I had ceased speaking, a woman arose, with a child in her arms, and commenced a violent appeal to the fears of the audience against the doc- trine we had advanced. As she proceeded she became more and more vehement, rising to her utmost, and bring- 124 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS ing down her fist with all her force upon the table beforer us. Several attempted to relieve her of her child, from an apprehension that she would injure it in the frantic vio- lence of her proceedings, but she refused to let them have it. As the congregation were thrown into much confusion by this circumstance, George Messinger arose and dis- missed them, bespeaking at the same time, their charitable consideration on the unfortunate woman's behalf. She, however, continued her vociferation for as long as she could be heard. We learned that she belonged to the Presbyterian church. Oh, fanaticism! what a deformer of the loveliness of the gentler sex art thou! Wild and phrensied denunciation is odious on man's part^ — how un- speakably more so on womari's! At the distance of two or three miles from the scene of this incident, is a meeting-house, under the control of the Methodists, but built at the expense of the inhabitants gen- erally, with the express understanding that it should be subject to the use of all religious denominations when not specially enifaged by the Methodists. Having one night an appointi'ient to preach there, I went to fuifil the same^ accompanied by Esquire Latham, who had given the site, and one hundred dollars, on the condition aforenamed. On our arrival we found a large collection of people, and in a high degree of excitement: from them we learned that the door of the house was locked, and that two Methodist men were within, who had kindled a fire, and provided them- selves with bedding, for the purpose of spending the nighl there. These men were known not to have contributed one dollar to the erection of the edifice; they were, more- over, peculiarly obnoxious individuals on the ground of their personal and moral qualities, and now they were cruelly defrauding one hundred people of their privilege of occupying the house agreeably to previous stipulation; some of these were women with children — many had come a distance of several miles; and the majority of the men had contributed toward the house, some ten, some twenty, some fifiy dollars. Is it to be wondered at that the people were incensed to such a degree that they proposed breaking down the door and taking forcible possession of the house 1 That they had a moral right to do so I could not doubt; but all things which are lawful are not expe- dient: when the violence of a crowd begins, there is no foi-eseeing its end. I feared, moreover, that the individu- OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 126 als within would be personally maltreated; I therefore took a stand on the door-step, and addressed the congregation in a strain dissuasive of violent measures. Knowing that the most effectual method of allaying the angry passions of a people, is to excite their mirthfulness, I humorously reminded them that the Methodists were acting in perfect agreement with their creed in the matter of denying to heretics the occupancy of their church. " They fancy," said I, " that God will exclude us from heaven ; and we are therefore wrong in expecting them to be more liberal of their church than God will be of Paradise. Moreover, if this dog-in-the-manger spirit, and this shameless viola- tion of good faith, is the legitimate fruit o? their principles, let us show that moderation, and a patient endurance of wrong, is the fruit of ours. The best way to rebuke un- worthy actions in others, is to act well ourselves." My God ! can I be adequately thankful for the almost constant inflowing of happiness which my own soul has experienced, while, amid wrongs and reproaches, and evil reports, and hunger, and weariness, and poverty, I have endeavored to make the light of gospel promise to shine on the cheerless souls of others? "Poor, but making many rich," is an expression from Paul, the force of which I have often, and I hope from no vain over-estimate of my weak instrumentality, most consolingly experienced. And every true gospel minister, methinks, when he considers the value of those divine consolations which it is his office to communicate, in comparison with the worldly emolu- ments which his talents otherwise employed might secure to him, must acquiesce in the sentiment of his divine Mas- ter, that " it is more blessed to give than to receive." It should reconcile him, too, to the self-sacrihces incident to his vocation, to consider that his Lord " came not to be ministered unto, but to minister," and "it is sufficient to the servant that he be as his master, and the disciple as his Lord." What lessons against priestly selfishness do the examples, as well as precepts, of Christ and his apostles furnish? Samuel Ashton, who then had just entered the ministry, came to me at the Branchville Conference meeting with a letter from A. C. Thomas, from whose society in Philadel- phia he had emanated. He was for a considerable time subsequent a member of my family, as was also the lady who afterwards became his wife. It was for the special 126 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS purpose of preparing a field of labor for him that 1 per- formed several of my journeys in the region about Brad- ford and Tioga counties, Pennsylvania, and in portions of New York adjacent. He devoted some two years to labors in that field, and contributed a valuable portion to the in- fluences whereby the cause of truth attained its ascendency in those parts. My reminisences with respect to Samuel, are pleasing; we had many pleasant times together, the remembrance of which is like a streak of sunshine through the sullen monotony of my otherwise lonely toils and journey ings. There are places along the Susquehanna river which are break-necks in name, but many more are there which are so in character. Paths along the steep acclivities of the huge hills which here and there abut upon that beau- tiful stream, so high betimes that one's eye may measure a depth of from one to two hundred feet to the rocks be- low, and so narrow, except at far-apart points where pro- vision has been made for the pui-pose, that vehicles cannot pass each other without considerable risk and difficulty. One of the narrowest hazards to which my life was ever exposed, was in a situation of this description. I was pass- ing down the left shore of the river, between the mouths of the Wyal using and Meshoppen creeks, and was at a point on one of these hill-side paths where a convex bend prevented travelers from seeing their way far before them, when 1 was startled at finding my progress obstructed by a two-horse wagon coming in an opposite direction. " How now, friend? What's to be done here?" "Dont know in- deed," replied the wagoner, scratching his head. Well, I had the worst of it, for according to statute, I had to pass, if I could, on the outer or precipice side of the path, and the wagoner therefore had only my safety to provide for, not his own. He did so, too, like a thorough good fellow, as he doubtless was. First, then, he led his horses along so as to bring his wagon as far up against the hill as was possible ; then, to prevent any movement of it, he un- hitched them, and tied them to a bush. This done, it was found by measurem.ent that between his wagon and the edge of the precipice there v/as merely room for mine. I knew my horse could be depended on, and I let him go, cautiously ; but in passing, the hub of my hind wheel locked against that of his fore wheel, and the concussion, though slight, threw my other hind wheel over the preci- OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 127 pice; and there was I, with three wheels on solid ground, and the other over empty space! The wagoner gave a yell of terror. " Hush! my dear sir,"" said I, " take mat- ters coolly: my horse will behave well if you dont frighten him; and as for me, why I think I can jump out into your wagon, if the worst comes. Only please to stand behind my vehicle, and at the moment that I let my horse move forward, lift, if you can, the two hind wheels, so that the one shall clear your hub, and the other come up on to the road." This was effected — just effected — and thus was the danger escaped. Oh! but one feels like taking a long breath after such a hazard. It is not without some twinges of self-reproach that I record a very ludicrous scene which I, half intentionally, half otherwise, got up at a meeting I held in Cudderback- ville, Sullivan county. New York. Accompanied by James McLauren, I arrived there late one afternoon, and had a meeting for the evening notified through the school. In connection with such notifications, my invariable custom is to state the denomination of the preacher, but in this in- stance the messenger omitted that part of his errand. Quite a house full came together; they had never before seen a Universalist preacher among them, and knew not. as yet i\\^iwe were of that persuasion; I feared that when I should come to announce it, many of them would at once fly the house. So to prevent, if possible, such a result, I introduced the business of the meeting by describing, in a grave tone, but in ludicrous terms, the peculiarities of the Scotch Covenanters. I described how they sung, and what psalmody they used — quoting some quaint specimens of the latter; and then the attempt made by the celebrated Dr. Mason to induce them to use Watts' Psalms and Hymns, and the very laughable issue of that attempt. My fel- low preacher, at a loss to conjecture what I was driving at, and being himself a Scotchman, curious to know how the affair would end, looked me in the face with so intense a curiosity that it added not a little to the comedy of the pro- ceeding. At length, when I came to tell of the horror of the Covenanters on hearing a psalm from Watts sung by a choir in the gallery — how the members of the congre- gation tumbled over each other in the aisles in their haste to gei out; and how the older ones, who were too stiff and gouty to run, put their fingers in their ears and bawled out, " Popery ! Popery ! innovation ! innovation ! " my 128 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS Scotch companion could hold out no longer, but threw his lank body across the stand, and thrust his pocket handker- chief into his mouth to prevent an explosion of laughter. But, as in this attempt he only half succeeded, it made mat- ters worse, for the noise he made resembled the brief spurt of steam from a boiler when the engineer presses on the gage-cock. The whole audience now gave way to immoderate and uncontrolable laughter; and, alas, that I should have it to record, I gave way too, for my gravity is not proof against every thing. Well, for a fevf minutes I feared that I had so far overacted my part as to have de- feated the object of my visit; but gravity being restored at length, I turned the affair to good account in the following way: " My friends," said I, " we laugh at the peculiar prejudices of the good people 1 have described, but may noi your prejudices be equally ludicrous? You can hear a psalm from Watts, indeed, without running; but suppose I should announce to you — to those of you especially, who expect to dwell in heaven eternally to the exclusion of your neighbors — that God is equally 'good to all,'' and ' will have all to be saved, and come unto the knowledge of the truth;' will not your self-esteem take alarm at that, and run away with you, as the prejudice against modern psalmody did with tho'sc good old Covenanters? Well, I do so announce; this is the doctrine 1 am about to preach to you, and we shall see how well you can bear it." Need I state that not a soul left the meeting, and that the deepest attention was given to the discourse. And the result of our visit was, that James McLauren was at once engaged to preach there at regular periods for the ensuing year. Thirteen years have since elapsed; but whoever visits Cudderbackville will find amongst its older citizens a dis- tinct remembrance of that first Universalist meeting held in their place. On my homeward route from Cudderbackville, I passed through Monticello, the capitol of Sullivan county, where I purposed to stop and hold some meetings; but I learned there that the most of its citizens were absent at a Metho- dist camp-meeting which was holding within a mile or so of the town. I found good friends in Judge Peltou and his family, who reside there, and at their invitation 1 delayed my progress homeward, and visited the camp-meeting. I was not long there ere I sent a young man to the presiding Elder with a note requesting him to preach from some por- OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 129 tion of Scripture which he deemed to be direct and strong to the purpose of endless suffering, and to allow aUniver- salist minister then present to follow with his views there- upon. No public notice, however, was taken of the request during my stay on the ground, and in the sermons which were preached, there even seemed to be a cautious avoid- ance of the topic specified in the note; it was not even alluded to during the whole day; a thing most unusual at Methodist camp-meetings. 1 therefore begun next day to proceed homeward by short and zig-zag stages, holding meetings in various neighborhoods in the county where meetings of similar character had never before been held. I had not, however, got far on my homeward way, ere a messenger, sent expressly for the purpose by my friends, overtook me with the information that the request in my note was to be complied with on the following Sunday ; which was also to be the last day of the meeting. A Mr. Pause, from Hudson, had arrived on the ground subse- quent to my departure; he had also delivered himself of a sermon against Calvinism, of such prodigious argumen- tative power as to "astonish the natives;" and while every mouth was agape with admiration and wonder at his irresistible logic, he announced that on the Sabbath follow- ing he would bring the same to bear against Universalism, to its utter demolition. Well, the Sunday came, and with it an immense multi- tude from all directions. I had been preaching on all the intermediate nights, and I brought round to the camp just as the preacher begun his services. That he felt well, and secure of doing a sure work that day, was evident from a certain chuckle in his manner; he would also occa- sionally point to me, when he believed himself to have said something particularly strong, and would say, " Will the young man be careful to put thai down?" I must do Mr. Pause the justice to say that he was ad- mirably qualified for this species of partisan warfare; his manner was effective, and his material well marshalled. Sometimes, by withering invective, he would excite the deepest indignation of his hearers against Universalism; anon he would hold it up to their scoffs and derision by exhibiting it in a ludicrous point of view. His discourse was nearly three hours long; and at its close, notwith- standing that the public had been notified that 1 should have the liberty to reply — though, doubtless, in the belief 130 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS that I had left the parts and would not return — the preach- ers present endeavored to get persons forward to the mourners bench, and by pathetic appeals, and songs appro- priate to that object, they attempted to effect an efferves- cence of the feelings of the multitude, well judging that the reasoning process would be thus most effectually quieted. Public curiosity proved too strong for their object, how- ever; none went up to be prayed for; no such " sinners, poor and needy," as the song invited forward, seemed disposed to answer to the call ; and as they were too expli- citly committed to the public in the matter of a reply, to retreat without discredit to themselves, they consented to my occupying the stand. 1 will say but little of my own performance on that occasion; I will own however, that a sense of the very responsible position I occupied — almost alone amid thousand of opponents, and in a region where, with a solitary exception, no voice had been ever lifted in advocacy of the gospel of God's grace — I will own, 1 say, as I measured myself with the occasion, I felt unutterably insignificant, and needed a better defence than the ^gis of Minerva to strengthen me for the conflict. Mr. Pause had spoken to the three following positions : 1st. There is to be a judgment of all men in the future state. 2d. The righteous and the wicked are to have different allotments in that judgment. 3d. The awards of that judgment will be eternal. In my reply, I showed his texts to be irrele- vant to a judgment in the future state, and I endeavored also to invalidate his arguments from reason, to the same effect. Assuming that 1 had succeeded in that effort, I felt absolved from the obligation of taking any notice of his second position, and proceeded therefore to refute substan- tially his third. By this excision of a third part of his main argument, I so abridged the labor of refutation that I got through with all I had to say in two hours. 1 was listened to with most earnest attention, and however well or ill I succeeded in what I undertook, I positively know that my labor of that day was not in vain; for in passing through that region recently, after an interval of ten years, I met with several persons whose first favorable impressions relative to our faith were received from that discourse. Mr. Pause seemed himself aware that my re- view of his argument had greatly changed the tone of feeling towards Universalism in the minds of the audience OF A TINIVERSALIST PREACHER 131 generally, for he told them, when I had concluded, that they would never be likely to hear it more attractively pre- sented, even should they go to Boston, amongst the Rabbies of the profession. The reader must not suppose that my vanity was much influenced by this compliment, for in the first place, I could not appropriate it; and in the second, I doubted its being meant for me; but was convinced, on the contrary, that it was designed to prevent the audience from thinking, that if so youthful an advocate, and of but ordi- nary abilities, could make his cause appear thus plausible, and the doctrine opposed to it thus contradictory and absurd, what might not be expected from Universalist preachers of greater talents and experience? In the evening of the same day, I preached in the Court House at Monticello, and Mr. Pause in the Presbyterian church — the two edifices stand side by side. From the largeness of my audience, under these circumstances, I could gather pretty fairly how public opinion stood in re- lation to our faith, respectively, or to their advocates. It is doubtful if it had ever before fallen to the lot of a Uni- versalist minister to conclude the services of a Methodist camp-meeting, or whether it is likely soon to occur again. Not far from the same time, being in Honesdale, Penn- sylvania, I learned that a Mr. McReynolds, Methodist, now a Congregationalist minister, had handed in an adver- tisement to the publisher of the paper there, that he would preach against Universalism on the following Sabbath, at Canaan Corners, about ten miles from Honesdale. I forth- with handed in a notice that I should be on the ground, and should review his performance. In the meantime, I delivered an evening lecture in Honesdale, at which Mr. McR. attended — probably in order to estimate the mental calibre of his proposed reviewer. It seems he had never before heard a sermon of the kind, and when he came to perceive the strength of the principles against which he was about to array himself, he was fairly frightened out of his propriety. He endeavored to persuade me that I should not have sufficient time for my review; he meant, : he said, to preach two long sermons, with but an hour's ointerval between, and I must improve that hour, or he ..should not grant me leave to reply at all. This, to be -sure, was affording me but a slender chance of defence for 7 my cause. I determined to accept it, nevertheless, and vtake the risk of what might happen to turn up in my favor. 132 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS On reaching the ground at the time appointed, I was sur- prised to find that he had chosen a rocky pasture-lot for his place of meeting, unshaded, save by a solitary tree, and unfurnished with seats of any sort. He doubtless un- derstood his motive in making this selection, and from the reckless style in which he ranted, gasconaded, and in- veighed, it was evident that he had persuaded himself that his measures had been well chosen for guarding against a reply : he was even ignorant of my being on the ground, as I lay recumbent behind a mass of rock, leisurely noting down his ebullitions, and was not within the range of his vision. His surprise, therefore, was manifest, when, at the close of his rigmarole, he was endeavoring by a dis- tortion of my printed notice to prove me a liar, I stepped on to the I'ock aforesaid, and announced that there was a well seated barn at hand, comprising a speaker's stand in which there was room both for himself and me, and that there we might forthwith go and adjust all those matters. He remonstrated violently against this arrangement, pro- testing that the meeting was his, and that I had no right to call people from it, etc. "I presume, nevertheless," re- plied I, " that they have a right to go, if they please.'' And they did please, every soul of them 1 think, and they further pleaded to decide that his long-winded perform- ance, after the review thereof which followed, was exceed- ingly little worth. Among the measures of opposition to Universalism in that region, it became a favorite one to represent every new convert, made by either of the orthodox parties, as having formerly been a Universal ist — whatever the age or sex of such convert, however notoriously ignorant of Universalism, however strange the announcement to all who had intimately known the individual — no matter, he or she was sure to have been a wicked Universalist, and it was that wicked doctrine which had made them so wicked. According to this I suspect that Universalism must be the original sin with which infants come into the world, and possibly which the devil committed in Paradise. The strangest part of this business was, that although every- body knew these professions to be false, yet everybody affected to credit them! So gross is the duplicity to which a spurious religion will reconcile the conscience! The following fragment of a conversation will illustrate the unscrupulousness connected with such professions. or A UNIVERSALIST PREACHEK. 133 " I wish to hear nothing further on that subject, Mr. R.; you know that our Philip was a Universalist before God opened his eyes; and what did your doctrine do for him ?" "1 know your Philip was a Universalist? Upon my word f know no such thing; for as long as I have preached in the neighborhood, 1 have never seen him at my meetings : I had never heard of his even professing anything of the kind. In what form did his Universalism manifest itself?" "Well, here he is, he can answer for himself Philip, were you not going straight on the road to hell, in perfect unconcern, until God showed you that your Universalism was a refuge of lies?" "Nay," remonstrated I; "let us not ■^hape answers for the boy by putting leading questions to him. I simply re- quire to know, Philip, in what way your being a Universalist was ma'lo known? Did you, for instance, ever 'profess to believe, or did you ever believe in fact, that God will ulti- mately bring all mankind to a condition of purity and bliss?" " No," said tlie boy, doggedly, " 1 was'ct such a fool as that comes to, for I read in my Bible that ' he that believ- eth not, where God and Christ is he never can come.'" "Enough said," replied I," your friends should be more tender of your reputation for veracity, Philip, or of their own, than to report you as a convert from Universalism." " Hov/ does it happen," we are apt to be asked, " if yours is the doctrine of the Bible, that so large a propor- tion of Christendom, to whom the Bible is equally open, sincerely believe otherwise ? Have you more learning than all others ? more pe7iefration ? more honesty 1 Or what is it that gives you a title to interpret the sacred text more truly?" 1 confess that these questions are such as naturally suggest themselves in relation to our pretensions.. It is not, however, that we think ourselves wiser, or more honest than others, which makes the difference in our fa- vor in respect to religious truth. The fact is, mankind have been accustomed to have truth decided for them by authority, rather than by evidence. This fact has long re- tarded human progress in scientific as well as religious knowledge. A convocation of divines, for example, deter- mines what must be received as true by all mankind. To believe in accordance with that determination, is to be or- thodox in faith; to believe otherwise is to be a heretic, Now it happens, that of the numerous theological stand- ards thus formed, no two are in all their features alike. 134 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS and many of them differ from each other in very essen- tial respects. Yet the Bible is mostly read with a pre- disposition, of which, no doubt, the reader is in general unconscious, to force all that it contains into harmony with one or another of these standards, rather than to make discoveries of the truth it reveals. What progress, then, upon this principle, are we likely ever to make in religious knowledge ? " But Christianity admits of no improvement," I may be told; "it came perfect from Christ in the first instance." All ^rue; but does our knowledge of Christiani- ty admit of no improvement? That is the question — is it perfect as it first com3s to us? Persons of easy faith or indolent dispositions, answer yes, and are content to stay where they are; minds of another class say no, and push their inquiries farther. The following incident will illus- trate the difference between these two classes of minds. 1 arrived at Esquire Benton's, in Unadilla village, New York, late on a Sunday afternoon, and hearing a bell ring for evening meeting of some kind, I repaired to the place, and found it to be a Bible Inquiry meeting; it was crowd- edly attended; the clergyman sat in the center of the room giving out questions from a religious newspaper — the organ of the sect — and those who pleased furnished answers. The subject of inquiry was the tenth of Acts, in which the vision of Peter and the conversion of Cornelius are related. I sat in an obscure corner of the room, a silent witness of the proceedings, and could not but note that the questions were all so framed as to elicit just such answers and no other; answers, of course, in harmony with the creed of the party. Inquiry was out of the question; there was no room for it; nothing in the proceedings tend- ed to provoke it. And as they all thought precisely alike upon every point, and precisely as the forms of the ques- tions presumed them to think, why a chapter was soon dis- posed of, and time enough left on hands to dispose of another. To me it seemed a most ridiculous farce for a number of grown up men to thus meet together for the baby business of rendering anticipated answers to a string of leading questions! "I will give you something better to do," thought I. So, letting my cloak fall from my shoulders, I stood up, and inquired if I might ask some questions relative to the chapter in hand, before they passed on to another. I was quite unknown, and therefore obtained a ready consent, and proceeded as follows : OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 135 1st. Seeing that Cornelius was " a devout man, and one that feared God with all his house," what is the probability as to his ultimate salvation in case that Christ had never been preached to him? 2d. Presuming he would have been saved, what need was there of Peter's visit, seeing it did not affect the ultimate issue? 3d. In what way was Peter's vision adapted to overcome his prejudice, relative to entering into a Gentile's house? 4th. How are we to understand his having learned " to call no man common, or unclean?" 5th. The angel whom Cornelius saw, is also called a man; what then is the radical meaning of the word angel in the Scriptures? 6th. What can have been por- tended by the fact in the vision, that the unclean as well as the clean were let down from heaven, and drawn up to heaven again? 7th. Can we gather from the Bible why the preaching of the Apostles was at first restricted to the Jews? and 8th. What had transpired in the course of events, as a reason for the removal of such restriction? Will the reader believe m^e when I assert, that not one of these questions was included in the printed list? The starting of so many new points of inquiry threw the meeting into quite a state of excitement; the people looked at the clergyman as the one from whom their solu- tion was to proceed; but he very graciously declined the task, and expressed a preference that 1 should answer my questions myself ! It was in vain that I plead my youth, and my being a stranger, and therefore the less entitled to the confidence of the meeting, and my views the less en- titled to its consideration. It availed not; 1 had raised their curiosity, and must now allay it by enlarging upon the several points 1 had specified. I complied as well as I was able; and so intense was the interest of the meeting in the subject, that when on finding it to be after ten o'clock, I brought my remarks to a close, 1 was earnestly solicited to continue them, both by priest and people, without regard to the lateness of the hour. The following outline will exhibit the principles in my exposition of those points of inquiry : 1st. That Cornelius would have been saved in the future life, even though he had not known Christ in this, is evi- dent from Peter's own words on the occasion. " Of a truth," said he, " I perceive that God is no respecter of persons, but in every nation, he that feareth God, and worketh righteousness, is accepted of him. 2d. The utility, nevertheless, of Peter's preaching to Cornelius, consistep 1^6 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS in its bringing him into a present salvation, consequent of a knowledge of gospel truth. This, undoubtedly, was meant by the declaration — " He shall tell thee words whereby thou and thy house shall be saved," i. e. saved at once, by being brought to a knowledge of the truth.* 3d. The vision of the sheet from heaven was wisely adapt- ed to the end for which it was meant, viz. the removal of the prejudice which Peter — in common with all Jews — had against a communion with Gentiles, by the fact that amongst the living creatures it contained were many which according to the Levitical law were unclean. Yet these very creatures were let down from heaven, and Pe- ter was commanded to slay and eat ! He was astounded by such a behest. " Not so, Lord," exclaimed he, I am too good a Jew for that, "I have never eaten anything common or unclean." But again he was enjoined to call nothing common which God had cleansed. How suited was this to convince him, that the obligations of the ritual law were superceded by the gospel economy, which placed all men upon a level before God, and did away with all arbitrary distinctions among creatures'. 4th. In the Scrip- tures the term angel — Greek, messenger, or agent — is not always referred to a spiritual being; it often means a man, as in Revelations ii. and iii., and sometimes such instru- ment as God may employ for blessing or for punishing mankind. " He maketh his angels spirits, and his messen- gers a flame of fire." It may therefore have been a hu- man angel, or messenger, that appeared to Cornelius. 6th. Peter's declaration, '* God has shown me that I should not call any man common or unclean," cannot imply that none are actually so in the present state; on the contrary, all are sinners, and "judgment came upon all men unto condemnation." Its meaning doubtless is, first, that none were to be regarded as without the pale of gospel mercy, whether Jew or Gentile; and second, that in the purpose of God all are destined to ultimate purity, and therefore, in a prospective sense, no man is common or unclean. 6th. For a similar reason, the "all manner of birds, beasts, and creeping things" — symbolising all classes and condi- tions of humanity — were, after being " let down from heaven," "all drawn up again into heaven;" for "all souls * Which is satisfactory, because a Scriptural and matter-of-fact answer to the question, If all are to be finally snved, of what use is preacliino? Cornelius would doubtless have been finally saved, whether Peter had preached to him or not. OF A TJNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 137 •are mine," saith the Lord; he is the " Father of our spi- rits," and " the body shall return to the dust as it was, and the spirit to the God that gave it;" for which the Apos- tle renders the satisfactory reason, that " of him, and through him, and to him are all things." 7th. The re- striction for a time of the gospel ministry to the Jews, is a circumstance for which no specific reason has been reveal- ■ed, because, perhaps, it was not important that it should be. We may conjecture, however, that it has answered several objects. For the credit of the gospel in the world, both for that and all coming ages, it was essential that its claims should first be urged upon the people among whom its founder had lived, worked his miracles, suffered mar- tyrdom, and arose from the dead; but as these people, above all others in the world, were bigoted, furious, and intolerant, it is probable that, but for this restriction, the Apostles would have dispersed into parts where their preach- ing would have been likely to provoke less opposition. We find that they actually did so when the restriction was withdrawn, and that they found far more favor among the Gentiles than they had amongst their own countrymen. Another object for the preference given to the Jews might be that, as in the purposes of Providence they were short- ly to lose their national existence, and to be scattered among all the known nations of the globe, they would thus be made instrumental in diffusing a knowledge of the new religion through the wide length and breadth of the Roman empire. 8lh. But the limitation of the gospel offers to the Jews was early withdrawn — why? Doubtless because the objects therefor were accomplished, A large number of Jews embraced Christ; three thousand at one time, and to that number " the Lord added daily such as should be saved," But as much the greater part of the nation were too far hardened for gospel labors amongst them to be availing, the gate of the church was thrown open to the Gentiles, and five thousand of them entered it at once, shortly afterward. ''It was necessary" — said Paul and Barnabas on a certain occasion to some blas- pheming Jews — " that the kingdom of God should first be preached unto you, but seeing ye put it from you, and judge yourselves unworthy of eternal life, lo! we turn to the Gentiles." I must add, that, until the people at that meeting were informed, some time aftei-wards, that the stranger who ao 138 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS thus had taken part in their proceedings, was a Universal- ist minister, they here disposed to give a very favorable consideration to the views I had offered. I was doubtless a young clergyman of their own church, who happening to be in the place, had chosen an incognito, to mystify them with those novel views for my own amusement-- they must seek me out and have me preach, etc. But oh! how the tune changed when they discovered my profession I " I suspected as much," said one. " I had a lurking suspi- cion to the same effect," said another. " Why, his senti- ments immediately betrayed him to my apprehension," said a third, and so on; until they all proved so sagacious as to have known me for a Universalist from the very first. Alfred Peck and I started together to a conference of two days, that was to be held in the village of Greene^ Broome county. New York. After plodding through mud all day, we put up for the night at an inn on the road, on the shore of the Chenango river. It was at a time when protracted meetings were much in vogue, and fanaticism was stalking stark mad through the country. Between a bitter spirit of proscription on the part of religionists on the one hand, and a tame servility of soul on the part of indifferentists on the other, the poor Universalist preacher found little to encourage him, save what he drew from the consoling nature of his faith and the evident philanthro- py of his office. We knew, indeed, and had so remarked to each other, that there existed much public good-will in favor of our doctrine, if it but dared to avow itself, des- pite the appearance to the contrary. The truth of this observation we had opportunities of seeing confirmed in the course of the evening. There sat in the circle about the fire a person who, om hearing that we were Universalists, began, sans ccrcmoner a fierce attack on our faith; in which charitable work he was soon joined by another. It was not long, however, ere the opposition of the former ceased. He belonged, he said, to the Presbyterian denomination, and he should much like, if he could in a way that would not betray his agency in the matter, to get one of our ministers to visit and form a society in his neighborhood. This called from me the declaration, that I should yield all pretensions to manhood if I dared not to avow my sentiments in any pre- sence, and in the face of any opposition. " For of what use," I asked, " is the form of a man to its possessor, except b© OF A ITNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 139 havQ also the soul? Surely they set but a mean estimate oil the rights of conscience, who consent to barter them for office, or interest, or popular favor; and our boast of be- ing a free people is a mockery, if we are not free in soul as well as in person." These remarks emboldened the latter assailant to say, that for his part, although a Methodist, if we would be at the trouble to visit his neighborhood, we might make his house our home during our stay, and he would take it upon him to provide a place for our meetings into the bargain. At this stage of the conversation our circle was aug- mented by two men, who were fresh from a protracted meeting at Binghampton. The elder of them, who made considerable pretensions to scholarship, and was himself a sort of preacher, received the information of our being Universalists with infinite scorn. " O I" exclaimed he, " 1 have enough of such characters about me at home; some of them a few nights ago broke into some stables in the neighborhood and cut up the harness they found there." *' You are sure they were Universalists who did this? What were their names?" " O! as to the particular individuals, tliey have not yet been indentified; but it is known that they were Universalists." " Indeed, it is most marvelous that, without knowing who those wicked persons them- selves were, their religious faith should have been so ex- actly ascertained I But see here, my friend, you are just from Binghampton; what think you of the Rev, Mr. S., late of that place, now of Sing, Sing Penitentiary, who made several attempts upon the chastity of his own step-daugh- ter, and menaced her life in case of resistance? Shall we take him as a sample of the Presbyterian order of people? And moreover, you talk of your neighbors; it is somewhat of a sneaking practice, but as you have set me the exam- ple, I will improve it for your own good in future. I can name to you a neighbor of mine, high in your church, who was lately convicted of having frequently stripped his neighbor's cows; after milking, and thus getting from them the richest portion of the milk. And I can name to you two deacons, my neighbors, who, on their way to the irial of the aforesaid cow-stripper, were overheard to remark as follows: ' The worst part of this disagreeable business is, that we cannot keep it from the ears of our Universal- ist neighbors; and it will make us appear very mean in their eyes; for we know thai there is not one of them who 140 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS would consent to do so dishonest a deed /" But shall we take this case as a sample of Presbyterianism?" O! no, thought my opponent, by no means; it was not a fair way of testing the general character of a people, to select particular cases; bad people would get into all churches, etc. etc. But he hoped for all that, nay, his prayer to God was — but he was angry, mind you — that he might ever be kept from believing in Universalism! " Whew I worse and worse, my friend. Nonsense, when talked to man. is bad enough, but to give wilful utterance to it in prayers to heaven, is to carry folly beyond all al- lowable limits. See, now; God "will have all men to be saved;' is it your prayer to be kept from believing that his will shall ever be accomplished? The Father sent the Son to be the Savior of the world ; do you pray that yoU may believe that the Savior shall never fulfill the ob- jects of his mission? How then can you offer the peti- tion in the Lord's prayer, ' Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven?' You, it seems, would rather pray to be kept from believing that it ever shall be done!" After that conference at Greene, I remained for two weeks in the Chenango valley, preaching every where to large audiences. At Oxford village; at Luke Metcalf's, South Oxford; at Philip Bortle's, on Panther Hill; at Paige's Settlement, New Ohio, and elsewhere : my message was heard with eagerness by multitudes, however dark the night or inclement the weather. At the place last named, a lumbering district, the state of society and morals had been very rude till improved by the ministries of N. Doo- little and G. Messinger. It often happened in those days, too often for my com- fort, that I was the guest for a night with a man whose wife was of a different religion, and had not christian for- bearance enough to treat me with common politeness, simply on account of that difference. And here I make an appeal in behalf of the tendencies of our faith in this respect. Did ever a Universalist, man or woman, violate the rites of hospitality towards a guest, on account merely of a difference of religious faith? Ohl most sincerely I should hope not. For is it not most disgraceful, that a principle which even a savage respects — who will not vio- late the hospitality of his wigwam, even towards a foe — should be outraged by professed christians for so slight a cause as an honest difference of opinion? I arrived one OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER 141 night in the town of , New York, in fulfillment of an appoinlment. Mi% A., on whom 1 had been instructed to call, received me kindly, took my horse in charge, and con- ducted me into his house. Not a word was said to his wife however, as to who I was, or what; but as I was an expected guest, that of course was previously understood, and her cloudy countenance plainly enough indicated why the introduction was omitted. I had rode thirty miles since morning, without refreshment, through mud and snow, and besides being tired and hungry, I was thoroughly chilled, for a raw and penetrating air had prevailed all day. It was not long ere an ox-sled passed, on its way to my meeting, two miles distant, and on it 1 obtained a ride thither and back. Of course it was well nigh bedtime when I returned, pretty well prostrated in body from ri- ding, preaching, and long fasting. I had no sooner seated myself by the fire, than Mrs. A. began a tirade against Uaiversalists. Tiiey were mean, low, ignorant, infidel, and I know not what all. Now I knew, that besides her hus- band — and of him common report was exceedingly favor- able — there wqyq but two professed Universalists in the neighborhood; both of them physicians, if 1 mistake not; and of them even she had previously spoken in highest terms of commendation. Her husband maintained a silence and a placidity which showed him to be used to this sort of domestic thunder, and as she seemed anxious that it should take effect somewhere, she kindly directed it to- wards me. "Madam,''"' said I, at length, in a playful vein, "suppos- ing Universalists to be the scape-graces you represent Ihem, we good christians ought to exhibit owr superior piety to better advantage than to be calling hard names, and dis- playing bad temper. Your two daughters here, who are just at the age to be influenced for good or for evil by their seniors, will suspect, I fear, that we are no better christians than those whom we are denouncing." I had hoped that a hint of this kind would suffice to put my ungracious hostess upon her better manners; but 1 was mistaken. She was a regular vixen, and on she run with all sorts of abuse, getting higher and higher, until I began to apprehend a violent explosion, and therefore essayed once more, in the same playful vein, to check its course. " My dear woman," said I, " seeing that I am but a small 142 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS snbject, and cany no dangerous weapons, I see no chance of coming off with safety if we get into a battle. And be- sides, the shovel and tongs, broomstick, and other imple- ments of warfare, are all under your control. Moreover I have no skill in scratching, and therein I suspect you would have great advantage over me. So I sue for peace; that I think will be my safest policy. These young ladies too," I added, "look to me as though they would feel it a far pleasanter business to be getting me some supper, than to be witnessing a holy war between us, and I really do believe that 1 could eat belter than 1 could ^^A^ at present." The young ladies did not wait for a seconding of this mo- tion from the mother, but flew to work and speedily pre- pared me some supper, and were much relieved no doubt by so agreeable an avoidance of hostilities. But the poor woman was doomed to a more mortifying defeat; for on the next morning, while s!ie was in the midst of a philipic against Universalists, a neighbor entered, whom she greeted as a brother, and seemed to be quite de- lighted to see. He however commenced relating a tran^ action which had taken place the day before, in the large village a ^QVf miles off. A certain man had sold a hotel- keeper a dozen pair of fowls, all prepared for cooking, as he professed. He insisted on selling them by weight, as he had taken particular pains in their feeding. The purchaser remarked that it brought the fowls up to an un- usually high price, but consoled himself by reflecting that after all they were not over-dear according to their weight. So the farmer was paid, and he quickly made his exit. It was not long after, ere the hostess came in to complain of a scandalous fraud in that same transaction; for besides that the fowls had not been gutted — though they were' slit- ted, that it might be thought they had been — they were also found to be stuffed with stones, pieces of brick, and other substances to increase their weight! A small mode of cheating, it must be owned, but still not too much so for the propensities of certain small people. Well, I had ob- served that my ungracious hostess was most m.ortifyingly interested in this account, and quite disposed to deny its truth too, until the narrator assured her that he was an eye and ear witness to the whole transaction; and then, for some reason, she did not care to look me steadily in the face. For some reason, I have said, and what was it ? OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 143 Alas ! that same knavish poultry-dealer was her pious class-leader ! Towards the close of summer, of that year, 1834, I at- tended the Chenango Association at Sheshequin, where I met for the first time several of my ministering brethren; and on the evening of the latter day of the session we enjoyed together, at the house of Col. Joseph Kingsbury, one of the most delightful social seasons 1 remember to have ever experienced! Miss Saunderson, who by the exquisite sweetness of her voice and skill in the piano ac- companiment, contributed an essential part to that eve- ning's enjoyment, was shortly afterwards called to sing amidst a far worthier throng and in far sweeter strains. Miss J. H. Kinney, subsequently Mrs. Scott, who was also one of that company, is likewise withdrawn from us to mingle her pure soul with the spirits of a holier commu- nion. And one of the ministers present, Elijah T. Smith, has long been the inhabitant of a land where prayer and preaching are superceded by eternal praise. Thus we *' Like drops of dew before the sun, We are fading and vanishing one by one. Like rainbow tints of an April day, We are passing away — we are passing away.'* CHAPTER VII. Comprising the events of a first journey to the West, to Pittsburg, Cincinnati, etc., and a journey to the last Association previous to his removal from Pennsylvania. It was toward the end of December, 1834, that I started from Susquehanna county, Pennsylvania, on my first jour- ney to the West. My mode of travel was on horseback. The usually deep snows of that region began to fall as I pro- ceeded, and ray faithful horse becoming lame, my progress was slow and painful. My first stop for the purpose of preaching, was at Easton, one hundred and twenty miles from home, where I spent the Sabbath, and discoursed three times to large congregations in the Court House- From thence I proceeded to Reading, through the fine Moravian town of Bethlehem, and by a route through a 144 EXPERIENCE, LABOES, AND TRAVELS highly cultivated and populous country. The weather was colder than had for many winters been experienced.. I tarried and preached two Sabbath's at Reading, besides several evenings during the interim. My stay there wa& with John M. Keim.'* Reading is both larger and more hand- somely built than Easton ; it lies in the valley of the Schuylkill, and is connected both by railroad and canal with Philadelphia, from which it is distant about sixty miles. From Reading I went toWommelsdorf, where was a brick Universalist church, built in good taste : the society was small and composed entirely of Germans. I had to use the simplest English possible, to make myself intelligible lo them. I there fell in with J. Myers, who for several years published a Universalist paper in the German tongue, en- titled the Botschafter; he also preached with great indus- try in various parts of Pennsylvania. 1 next visited Potts- ville, in the coal region, which was then a town of very recent formation, but contained, notwithstanding, a popula- tion of three thousand souls. I preached there several discourses in the basement of the Episcopal church. From thence, after preaching at Reamstown, where was a small building answering the double purpose of a church and school-house, I proceeded to Lancaster. Lancaster has a population of nine thousand, and is sit- uated in a very fertile and beautiful limestone region: most of the houses are low, and in the Dutch style of ar- chitecture. Appointments were advertised for me in the secular papei's, for Friday, Saturday, and Sunday evenings, in the German Lutheran church, the pastor of which was- a Universalist both in j'act and profession. He was a wor- thy and talented man, and a majority of his congregation were with him in belief. The Universalists had rented the use of this church for a year, at stated times, to which measure the rigidly partialist part of the society, a small minority, were bitterly opposed. Friday evening's meet- ing passed peaceably, but on Saturday evening a body of Germans rushed into the house as the people were assem- bling, and shutting the doors, threatened vengeance to any who should enter. They attacked one of the vestrymen with clubs and brick-bats, and cut and bruised him seri- ously. They also attempted to strangle the sexton with his neck-handkerchief, and would probably have effected their object but for the courage and magnanimity of the OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 145 said vestryman, who rushed to his rescue and cut the handkerchief assunder. Time will not admit of my going into further details; suffice it to say that the rioters were arrested, and constables employed to preserve future good order. But the Mayor, nevertheless, took it upon him to dismiss the congregation which had filled the house, and my meeting for that evening was thus as effectually de- feated as though the rioters had been left with the field to themselves. On Sunday, authorized by the vestry, I sent notices through the city that I would occupy the church in the evening. The Mayor, however, attempted to pre- vent my doing so — he told me he could not be answerable for the consequences if I did, to myself personally as well as to the church. My answer was, that as to the personal risks, I would take them cheerfully in the way of my duty, whatsoever they might be ; that I was resolved to preach in the market-house if not in the church; that if the May- or could do no better for me than to prevent me from preaching in the church agreeably to stipulation, I had nothing to thank him for, as the rioters could do that much without his assistance, and that I therefore would thank him to give himself no further trouble in the matter. I did preach, accordingly, both on Sunday and Monday evenings, and though my audiences were immense, no dis- turbance whatever ensued. The effect of my meetings was materially assisted by the musical performances of Peter L. and George Grosh, on instruments of their own invention called Euphoniads. As to the city Mayor, he doubtless was a bigot, and so far in the interests of my op- posers as to co-operate with them in his own way to defeat the object of my visit. I tarried, while in Lancaster, at an inn kept by a Mr. R., a kind old man, but an Atheist in creed; his creed however he kept a secret, except to a clique of co-unbelievers who were accustomed to meet in his private parlor. These were all pew-holders, some of them communicants even, of one or another of the churches of the place. Among them was a very gifted young lawyer who belonged to the Presbyterians, and was in the habit of lecturing in favor of Total-Abstinence, Missions, Sunday-Schools, etc., all of which he denounced and ridiculed in the Atheistic conclave. I myself heard him amuse them by mimicking the mock- sanctity with which he was in the habit of consigning to the devil the ungodly opposers of these popular institu- 146 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS tions. This same lawyer was the author of a notorious hoax that was practiced upon the celebrated Mr. Finney, when he was there sometime before conducting a protract- ed meeting. The affair itself was well known over the whole city at the time, but its author was even yet undis- covered, save to the club of Atheists aforesaid. The hoax consisted in a series of letters addressed to Mr. Finney, at different times, purporting to be from an Atheist, who was laboring under deep convictions through that gentleman's preaching. These, as might be expected, were publicly read from the pulpit for etiect. Certain peculiar circum- stances, it was pretended, prevented the writer from making known his identity just then, but these were to cease to operate by a particular Sabbath, when, if Mr. F. would remain alone in the church after the morning service, the writer would be there to conduct him to his home, where all would be satisfactorily explained, and certain marvel- ous matters be disclosed into the bargain. It may be con- ceived that the community of Lancaster were in a high degree curious as to whom this mysterious Atheist could be; every countenance was scrutinized, by every body, as it entered the church, and many were the furtive glances that flashed from under the solemn brows of the male saints, and the bonnets of the sisterhood, in the hope of their lighting on the incognito. None suspected the law- yer, however, who with demure visage took his punctual seat in his accustomed pew. The clique of Atheists had their own fun meanwhile at the success of the ruse. Well, the specified Sabbath came. Mr. F. after dismiss- ing the congregation, remained in the church as required. It is said that the pastor of the church and some of the deacons, were seen skulking about the premises, peepin|f over adjoining fences and through crevices, in order to obtain beforehand a stolen indulgence of their curiosity, and that Mr. F. impatiently motioned them away, whisper- ing, " keep down — keep down, I tell you — Iie^ll not come while he sees you abouty But I suspect this is an exag- geration. Howbeit, after vainly waiting for more than an hour, poor Mr. F. became aware that his simplicity was being practiced upon by some audacious wag, and he re- paired to his lodgings in dudgeon, where another letter of the same series awaited him; this contained the writer's apology for his non-appearance; it set forth in mock-seri- ousness as the reason therefor, that the writer's cook had OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. H7 over-seasoned a dish of bean porridge, which, with special care, was being prepared for his Reverence's dinner; that consequently the writer, not having the fear of the devil before his eyes, had cursed the cook and knocked her sprawling ; that all the dishes, as well as his newly ac- quired religion, had got so completely upset and demol- ished in the fracas, that, like the sow that was washed — alas! that he should say so — he had gone again to wallow- ing in the mire of Atheism. The next day's light found no Rev. Mr. Finney in Lancaster, nor had he ever shown his saintly face there since. From Lancaster I was conducted by J. Myers to his home in Petersborough, and from thence to Marietta, where I discoursed several times, and tarried with Mr. Grosh, father of A. B. Grosh, whose mansion is most delightfully situated on the shore of the Susquehanna, which is there a stream of nearly a mile in width, and as translucent as a sheet of christal. Thence, as I had parted with my horse, Mr. Myers con- ducted me to Harrisburg, the State capitol, which is a neat and compact little city, with a population exceeding four thousand. It is lighted, and watchmen cry the hours, whilst the legislature are there; which are large feats for so small a place. I preached there in the Unitarian church several times, but not to large congregations, for it is a place of no small amount ol bigotry. Almon H. Read, Senator from Susquehanna county, showed me many atten- tions; he introduced me to the Governor of the State, from whom I received several civilities. On the whole, I met with much to disgust and somewhat to cheer me in that portion of Pennsylvania. Many of the Lutheran clergymen thereabout, 1 found, are at heart Universalists. That is good; but an open avowal of it would be better. It is a sad business for one's profession to be at odds with one's conscience. On the other hand, there is in Pennsylvania much religious intolerance, much covert infidelity, and oh! how much servility of spirit! For example, I bore letters of introduction to individuals from those to whom they stood in the relation of personal friends, yet so base in soul were they that they refused to honor the introduction, from an avowed fear that their doing so might subject them to the suspicion of being fa- vorable to Universalism! And this, gracious God! in a country professing to be the freest on earth! Why, who 148 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS ever experienced such mean incivility from a Pagan or a Turk? One poor gentleman begged me, with signs of alarm that were truly ludicrous, not to let it be known in the town that I had borne a letter to him, and he hoped I would excuse his seeming not to know me if he should meet me in the street! And to what are we to ascribe this most deplorable state of things? Without the shadow of a doubt, to the preva- lence of a stern and intolerant theology; a theology that interdicts the free exercise of the reasoning faculty, that makes the sufferings in eternal fires the sure penalty of an error of the judgment, and an exact faith an indispen- sable condition for obtaining the favor of Heaven! It would really seem that the Lord takes the more care of a poor fellow, for his being indifferently qualified to take care of himself. I was able to get up meetings at but one place west of Harrisburg, and that was out of the direct route, until I got to Chambersburg, where I made a stop of several days, and discoursed as many evenings in the Court-house. But, besides my expenses at the hotel, each meeting cost me one dollar and twenty-five cents, for the use and lighting of the house. My congregations were large, increasingly so to the end of the series, but not an individual made the least advance toward an acquaintance with me. My scanty purse soon leaked dry at the rate at which it was drawn upon. Nevertheless, I felt an unspeak- able happiness in lingering about Chambersburg, for I re- membered that several years before I had been there under circumstances of the greatest possible discourage- ment. "Sweet are the uses of adversity," the great poet saith, and my experience has comprised many confiima- tions of that truth. The following, from a letter to my wife, is an overflow- ing of the feeling awakened in my heart by this visit to a scene of my former suffering: " Dear Ruth : — I am again, after a lapse of ten years, a lodger at Snyder's hotel, sign of the White Horse, Cham- bersburg. I am still, thou knowest, but a poor fellow, having but in scanty measure this world's gear; but when I think of what 1 then was, pennyless, meanly clad, de- lirious with a fever, inexperienced, with no resource but charity, and too proud in spirit to sue for that; and when, in contrast with that state of things, I reflect that 1 now have robust health, that my energies are ripened, that I or A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 149 have, in a little family of my own, new links that connect me with humanity, and make me seem to myself other than the isolated orphan I then was ; when, Ruthy, I think of all this, my full heart rises into my throat with the largeness of its gratitude to heaven. " I have been to see the angle behind the Court-house, where, for want of a softer couch, I used to lie when my daily fever came upon me. Occasionally, to while away the time and to seem less an idler who had no object, I used to enter the Court-house and hear the pleadings of the lawyers; and when I detected an eye scanning my pal- lid face, I used to assume a brave look and bearing, in order that I might avoid appearing to be the sick wretch I really was. How I then envied the health of those law- yers, and their privilege of holding a company of fellow men in spell-bound attention to their words. But, in that same Court-house I am addressing, night after night, a much larger and quite as attentive a company. Well, these may seem trifles, and doubtless in themselves they are so, but their associations give them a sweet importance to my mind. It is thus, Ruthy, that past afflictions may enhance the pleasure of our after experience, as the spring time seems the more delightful for the winter which pre- cedes it," etc. Chambersburg is a finely situated town, surrounded by a fertile country, and picturesque in its scenery from the proximity of the blue ridges of the Alleghenies. My next stop was at the mountain town of Bedford, seat of justice for the county of that name. I went thither by Btage, and after defraying my tavern charges for the night's entertainment, I had not a single penny left. What now was to be done? Pittsburg, my point of destination, was yet one hundred miles distant; in the region intermediate I had not an acquaintance, not a co-believer even, so far as I knew — I could not dig, and to beg I was ashamed. What was to he done? I asked my wits the question over and over again, and the only answer I could get from them was — nothing. I had just abandoned all hope, when I overheard a young man say to another, " The Sheriff is about starting for Pittsburg with his prisoner." " From whence? " I asked. " The jail," he replied. To the jail I went forthwith. The Sheriff's vehicle was at the door; he was just taking leave of his family; in a minute more I should have been too late. I stated my situation to him 150 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS frankly, told him that if he would convey me to Pittsburg, and defray my charges on the way, it was barely possible that I should find friends there who would enable me to reimburse him, but that, beforehand, 1 knew none such. He scanned me closely for a minute, then told me to jump in, and in an instant we were otf. Really, these coincidences are either very lucky, or very providential ! I shoul 1 not hesitate to decide in favor of the latter, if I were orthodox in faith; but as it is, it were perhaps a sin to regard God as taking care of here- tics. Conceive me now, seated by the side of a negro prison- er, and, m connection with him, at the charges of the Sheriff of Bedford county. But my sable companion was no common personage after all, but a veritable member of the sanctum fratrum ; a bona jide subject of holy orders! Judge Thompson, presiding judge of the middle district of Pennsylvania, and several lawyers, were traveling in the same direction to hold a court somewhere westerly. We all stopped several times at the same Inns on the way, and as often engaged in conversation on literary and religious topics. The judge was a Presbyterian. He re- marked, nevertheless, that he had found now and then a Universalist among his acquaintances, and that they were generally correct and honorable men. " But then," said he, "they were persons of unusual intelligence, and such alone are likely to embrace your faith. I should dread its influence on ignorant individuals, if such should become converts to it." "And so should 1," was my answer, " if it left them as ignorant as it found them. But it evidently does not so; it expands the mind with sublimer conceptions of the Deity; it infuses a wider charity in the heart; it counteracts the narrow selfishness which, of necessity, must be generated by the vain conceit that the divine favor is limited to a select portion of the human family. Consequently, al- though it is quite possible for a Universalist to be illiter- ate, yet to be in religious respects ignorant, is a thing not possible, as 1 conceive, to one who is truly a Univer- salist." Arrived o,t Pittsburg, my first business was to seek some friends to truth in the city, who would enable me to dis- charge my obligations to the Sheriff. I knew none such, nor had 1 been furnished with references to any; in truth. OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. I5l no Universalist minister ever before visited that city, so far as was known. In the course of a few hours' search, however, I succeeded in this first object. My next was to secure a place to preach in, and in that I found much greater difficulty. In efforts to that effect, indeed, two whole days were laboriously employed, when at length, we obtained the vestry room of the German Lutheran church; but from that we were excluded, after our first meeting, at the instigation of the pastor, who was a timid and time-serving man. We next, at very great trouble, obtained the grant of the Court-house from the County Commissioners, who long withheld their assent from a fear that they should incur public disfavor by yielding. Very large congregations were attracted to my meetings by mo- tives of curiosity and opposition, and this continuing with an increase rather than abatement, the clergy of the city took alarm, and actually went in a body, some half a dozen of them, and persuaded the Commissioners to exclude me from the Court-house. Nor was that all; the Com- missioners must atone for their offence in admitting ma thereinto, by engaging it to a certain Rev. Mr. Tassy, a resident of Pittsburg, for the same time that I was to have occupied it by virtue of their previous engagement to me ! And this same Rev. Mr. T. had the modesty to request me to advertise my congregation to that effect, anl to notify them furthermore, that his discourses would be in answer to those previously delivered by myself Thus my mouth was first to be stopped, and then I was to be refuted. " Well," remarked I, when I had read out this notification as requested, " it is to be hoped, friends, for the gentle- man's sake, that injustice and effrontery are not among the sins for which his creed eternally damns people." This was in the midst of an immense congregation, com- prising a thousand persons, as 1 should judge; around the lawyers' table sat a number of clergymen, in terrible ar- ray for note-taking, as though they meant to scare me with tbe poet's threat — "A chiel 's amang ye takin notes. Faith, an he'll print it." I had taken my text, and was proceeding to specify the points which 1 meant to establish therefrom, when up rose one of the clergymen and challenged me to debate the subject with himself publicly. " Agreed," said I ; " bu-t 15% EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS in what building? Shall it be in your church?" No, the gentleman could not agree to its being in his church, nor would he take it upon him to furnish another building for the purpose. The Court-house he well knew we could not have, so that his challenge was manifestly a mere bravado, and I so pronounced it to the audience. Again 1 began my discourse, when another preacher arose and gave out that he should reply to me on the mor- row evening. " Not on to-morrow evening, if you please,'* interposed a third, " for I have already notified the public that I shall then commence a series of replies to Mr. Rogers." Well, as I felt under no obligation to await an adjust- ment between these litigants for the honor of the first lunge at my heresy, I once more resumed my discourse. I begged that the audience would listen to me for them- selves, instead of trusting to subsequent reports of the sermon, which might be garbled and distorted; for the clergymen around me had an interest in misleading the public mind relative to a doctrine which they found it easier to denounce than refute 1 I told them that years might elapse ere they should have a like opportunity of hearing my doctrine from one of its accredited ministers; that it had cost me and my friend several days of labori- ous effort to obtain that house; that we had also been at an expense in notifying the public that we should occupy it at certain times — for which we had engaged it of the Commissioners — that, after all, we were to be denied its occupancy for the future, and the same was to be granted to our enemies for professedly hostile purposes, although they had houses of their own quite as convenient for the purpose. These considerations, I contended, gave me a peculiar claim upon their candid attention and forbearance^ and should be my apology for preaching to them with the utmost plainness and explicitness. Notwithstanding, I had proceeded but a little way in my discourse, ere one man bawled out — " That fellow is not fit to preach." " No, he is not," exclaimed a second. " Out with him I" vociferated a third. And then came a shower of missiles from the gallery, directed at my person, by which a pane or two of glass were broken in the window back of the desk, and full fifty voices joined in the outcry to drag him out, etc. Several ladies made their exit from the house in high alarm, which they found it difficult to do through the ex- OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 16^ cessive crowd. I stood calm amidst the uproar, and when.' it had subsided, 1 informed the congregation that their very violence gave evidence against the religion in which they had been taught. " For, if it were truly the religion of Christ," said 1, "it would lead you to better things than to maltreat a stranger, to whose character you can attach no reproach; merely because he pleads for what he be- lieves to be gospel truth, and in opposition to what he conceives to be hurtful error. It is to Scripture and rea- son, I appeal," I continued, " and to those authorities I am amenable. But if you think to intimidate me by brute violence, let me tell you, my friends, you have mistaken your man; I am not thus to be stopped: I would preach the love of God at the martyr's stake." I then, a fourth time, re-commenced my discourse, and ■ — with the exception of an occasional hiss and groan — was allowed to proceed to the end without further interruption. Being now destitute of a house in which to preach, I betook myself to my pen, and wrote two illustrative tales, entitled an "Old Settler's Narrative," and "A Pleasant Rencontre." In these I endeavored to present the doc- trines of Universalism and endless misery, contrastively, in some striking points of light, which should show the superiority of the former over the latter for practical and consolatory purposes. By this labor of my pen, I de- signed to effect what, for want of a suitable room, I could not with my tongue, on the public mind of Pittsburg. But while I was thus employed, a card appeared in the several daily papers — I know not by whom communicated — in which the inhospitable treatment of myself was com- plained of, and a public meeting called at a certain hotel, for the purpose of taking rr>easures to detain me in the city, and procure me a place for my meetings. The result of this call was, that about two hundred persons met at the place specified, and appointed a committee, through whom a large hall was hired for my use, which was capable of containing some five hundred persons. In that hall I de- livered about a score of sermons; and it was excessively crowded to the end of my stay. Thus much for a history of the introduction of Univer* salism into Pittsburg. It furnishes additional illustration of the fact, that violent means are apt to defeat the end they are employed to promote; and also that the utmost 11 154 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS brute force is very weakness when employed against the truth. From Pittsburg I proceeded by water to Wheeling, and by the National Road to Zanesville. On my way to the former, I offered a pamphlet to a gentleman in the cabin, who had been grinning for an hour or two over a book of obscene songs and conundrums. " As on board of a boat," said I, '• time hangs heavily on one's hand who has noth- ing to read, you may possibly be interested in the matter of this tract; it contains a Universalist sermon." "-4 Universalist sermon .'" he contemptuously retorted : " I have found something to approve in every subject I have ever turned my attention to; but in Universalism, by G-dl there is nothing to approve — Tom Paine's kge of Reason is piety, compared to such d — d trash." Of course I re- plied nothing to so mild and polite a rejection of my favor; but I bethought me, that as sinners all love Universalism, and saints alone are opposed to it, why, of course this same moderate gentleman must needs be a saint. Can the reader doubt it? There had never been manifested in Zanesville a suffi- cient interest in Universalism, to attract a large congrega- tion to the hearing of it. Abler men than I had previous- ly preached it there, but to small audiences. But the fact of my being from a distance, operated in my favor. I preached nine discourses there to constantly increasing assemblies, until the capacious old State-room at length refused to accommodate the numbers who wished to hear. Bigotry, of course, did not rest easy under this state of things; placards were found posted at the corner of the streets, and in the market-house, describing me as one of the locusts out of the bottomless pit, or some such thing, and calling upon the public of Zanesville to rise against me as they did at Pittsburg. A certain Methodist preacher also — still a resident there — arose and assailed my doc- trine at the close of one of my sermons; to whose logic, however, the task of reply was not exceedingly difficult. He has since published a book against Universalism, in which I come in for a passing notice. Zanesville is now a station for a Universalist preacher, and of a thriving society, which, under the first regular pastor, G. T. Flanders, erected and now own a neat meet- ing-house. The town itself is a flourishing manufacturing one, with a population of six thousand, exclusive of its OF A UNI VERS ALI ST PREACHER. 155 environs. Its position on the Muskingum river, where it is crossed by the National Eoad, is one of exceeding beau- ty, and the hills, which to a wide extent surround it, are rich in coal and iron ore; besides that, they support a dense agricultural population amongst their picturesque slopes and vales. I have often preached in Zanesville in later times, and always feel a pleasure in revisiting that first of my Ohio fields of labor, for there are some choice spirits there. From Zanesville I proceeded on horseback to McCon- nelsville, seat of justice for Morgan county, which is also situated on the Muskingum river; there I preached several discourses. Thence, still keeping down the river, I pro- ceeded to Watertown, where was a Universalist meeting house, and a small but excellent society. I delivered one sermon there; and went on to Marietta, at the junction of the Muskingum with the Ohio, where I tarried over four days, including a Sabbath, and delivered six discourses. In this charming town there was then, and for a long time had been, a Universalist society, which, with the other religious societies of the place, was entitled to a dividend of a fund accruing from the rent of a section of land ap- propriated by law to religious purposes. The other de- nominations in the town — and the same has often occurred elsewhere — contested for a time the Universalists' right in this fund, until, in a trial at law, the latter obtained a ver- dict which set the question at rest. Since then, the Uni- versalist society being without a preacher, had disbursed their annual dividends in the purchase of books for a pub- lic library. Latterly, however, a very neat meeting-house has been erected, and a clergyman settled at Marietta. It is a delightful station, and the region about it presents as interesting a field for Universalist labor as any which the State of Ohio afibrds. Fourteen miles below Marietta, on the Ohio river, is the settlement of Belpre; it is one of the oldest settlements of the State, and its inhabitants are, to a proverb, peaceable, industrious, and virtuous. A Universalist society, of old standing, is situated there, which, with or without a minis- ter, has regularly met on Sabbath days for religious wor- ship. They now have a meeting-house, which overlooks the Ohio river; but they were without one at the time of which I write. N. Wadsworth, since deceased, was then their minister. I met him as I was on my way thither; 156 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS we were both of us traveling on horseback, in opposite directions, and were strangers to each other except from description. We each guessed who the other was, how- ever, and dismounting from our horses, we sat and con- versed on the river bank in relation to our cause, its con- dition and prospects in the Western country. The day was lovely: the scene around us was lovely: our hopes were as cheerful as. the sky and landscape. Is the reader philosopher enough to determine whether these had not a mutual influence on^ each other? And whether the world within us is not apt to borrow its hues from the world without? Well, N. Waidsworth has long since been gathered to his rest. And matters of fact, as they affect the cause for which he labored, do now fully justify the hopes we then mutually entertained. We have now three preachers in that valley, and four meeting-houses, with a fair prospect of two othei's, where there then was but one of either. From a part of the Ohio shore which skirts the farm of Pitt Putnam, at Belpre, I was taken aboard by a boat bound for Cincinnati, where I arrived at about nine in the eve- ning of the next day. No arrival was ever more oppor- tune. No boat had arrived for several days before, on account of the ice in the river, nor did any for a week or two after. 1 had been expected, and with great solicitude at that particular juncture, for one of our most zealous aaid amiable female members in that city, had deceased on that day, and the next was appointed for her funeral. She was in health when my letter was received announc- ing my intended visit, and to none was the news more welcome : she carried it from house to house of the friends of our cause, and dwelt in ecstacies on the happiness she should enjoy in hearing once more, what, with all her soul, she believed to be " the gospel of the grace of God." My feelings, while standing at her grave — and my first sad office in Cincinnati — administering consolation to the many who mourned her departure, may well be imagined- Soothly saith the poet — "Death walks in Pleasure's footsteps round the world." I was the guest of Enion Singer, at whc^e dwelling I ex- perienced a cordial hospitality; and by whom, indeed, I had been, induced lo extend my visit to that city. OF A imrVERSALlST PSEACHER, 157 During my stay in Cincinnati, I delivered there in all seventeen sermons, in something over two weeks. Most of them were delivered in the Ball of the Mechanics' In- stitute, which was hired for the occasion at three dollars per night. One was delivered in the Unitarian church, and several in a school-house, now a livery stable, at the •southeast corner of Sixth and Vine streets. All my meet- ings were very numerously attended; more and more so to the termination of my stay; and the interest excited was apparently deep and extensive. The friends called it a revival, and so it was; for why may not truth be revived as well as fanaticism? At the close of one of my sermons, I was publicly defied to an oral controversy, by a certain Doctor Sleigh, whose pretensions to learning and to polemical ability were very high. He was flushed with the honors he supposed him- self to have won, in a recent debate with a minister of the Disciples sect, on the question, " Is the gospel salvation conditional?" in which he, being a Calvinist of the old school, had taken the negative- To my fancy, however, he was but a quack in theology, whatever he may have been in medicine; and exhibited a spirit by no means fa- vorable to the elicitation of truth in a public controversy. i informed him to that effect, and pledged my word at the same time that I would consent to meet any respectable clergyman of the city, whom he could get to appear as his substitute. In answer to which, he modestly informed me and the congregation, that he considered himself as at least the equal of any clergyman of the place in any and every sort of learning. * I have always been of the opinion of the sick lion in the fable, that there is no particular honor in being kicked by the heels of an ass. I have also thought the devil was in the right, when, according to Milton, he declined battle with the inferior angels, who, being employed by Gabriel to seek him within the precincts of Paradise, found him "" squat like a toad" at the ear of our sleeping grand-dam Eve. Said that shrewd arch tempter — * That same Doctor Sleigh subsequently rendered himself very notorious, by holding public controversies with distinguished infi- dels in New York, Boston, and Philadelphia. It is believed to have been a mere matter of pecuniary speculation between the parties, however, for they divided between them the sums taken in as th« price of admission. 138 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS " If fight I must, It shall be with the sender, not the sent : Or all at once; for in such strife of arms More glory will be won, or less be lost." It were well for the public advocate of truth, to learrs something even from the devil in this matter, and not sub- ject the cause in his hands to contempt, by consenting to discuss with every loquacious prig who may challenge him to the same. Thomas Whittemore, of the Boston Trumpet, was an early herald of glad tidings in Cincinnati. His meetings were crowdedly attended, and were productive of a deep interest in behalf of the truth. He received an urgent request to station himself in that city, which, had he done, there is no calculating the probable results to our cause in the West by this time. He, however, has been en- gaged with equal usefulness in another sphere. Josiah C, Waldo is the only minister who had been regularly set- tled there, and since his removal, in compliance with the demands of his wife's health, the progress of the cause of truth in Cincinnati had been retrograde. The society ex- isting there tried in vain to obtain a pastor; failing in that, they were obliged to sell their church — an indifferent building, and badly located; they became scattered in pro- cess of time, and, as a society, extinct. Such was the state in which I found them, and the irrepressible feelings which, in the absence of any knowledge of their condi- tion, induced me to visit them, I am half tempted to inter- pret as a call of Providence : and this, forsooth, would be attaching no small consequence to my ministrations, were it not known that in the gospel economy God employs, as his instruments, " the weak things of this world." At the close of my labors there, I re-organized the society; and it then included some thirty persons who were not formerly of our faith. This done, I agreed to return and live amongst them as their pastor, until they should be able to obtain one of less wandering habits than 1 had contracted- Having procured a horse at Cincinnati, I started on my return to north-eastern Pennsylvania, by a route wholly different from the one by which I had traveled westerly. About thirty miles on my way I put up for the night at an Irish Inn, in an Irish settlement called Fayetteville: there had been an election for town officers that day, and such a scene as the interior of the Inn presented is beyond de- OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 159 scription. There was mud enough on the bar-room floor to have produced a crop of potatoes; and wallowing there- in, kneeling, sitting, sprawling, were as fuddled a set of men and women as ever bartered their senses for the in- spirations of whiskey. Some were making orations, some singing of " swate Ireland," some crying, some pledging each other with filled glasses, and not a few blaspheming. In such a pandemonium, nevertheless, was I fain to put up, for the night was dark, and the roads as nearly impassable as can be imagined. From thence I proceeded on through Hillsboro', Chil- licothe, Lancaster, and Somersett, all county towns, to Zanesville ; thence to Martinsburg, Newark, and Mount Vernon. In the fine Court-house at Newark, I delivered several discourses; the first, on a/ij/ subject, that had ever been delivered therein, for the building was not yet fin- ished, and the workmen were at the trouble of removing their work-benches for my meetings. I preached also at Coshocton, which is situated on the Tuscarawa branch of the Muskingum, and is the seat of justice for the county of the same name. There I met with George E,. Brown, who was just entering upon the ministry, and has since distin- guished himself therein by eminent usefulness. At Mount Vernon I fell in with Asher A. Davis, who was then the most active Universalist preacher in the West, but is now removed to another field of labor. He accompanied me to Fredericktown, where I preached; and from thence passed on to Mansfield, capitol of Richland county, where I delivered two discourses to large congregations. At the close of my second meeting there, I found myself sur- rounded with former acquaintances, who had recently emi- grated from Sussex county. New Jersey. Only the sum- mer previous they had bidden me adieu, in the expecta- tion that to the western home to which they were bound, I should not be likely ever to direct my steps; nor did the contrary seem probable to myself at that time; yet, with- out intending it, or even knowing that such was to prove the case, I had brought the Gospel to the very door of their new home; and ere my departure I solemnised a marriage between a young lady of the family and a re- spectable farmer of Richland. Strange coincidences occur betimes in this changeful life. Touching that same marriage, I learned about a year afterward, that in performing it I had violated a law of the 160 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS State, which requires that a preacher be authorised to per- form that office by an express license from one of the County Courts. Iwas ignorant of such a requisition, there being none such in the other States in which I had labored. It happened that Mansfield was a place of much religious bigotry, and as 1 was but a visitant in the country, it was con- jectured that 1 was unfurnished with the required license, and was therefore a transgressor of the law, and subject to a heavy fine. Accordingly a warrant was taken out, and put into a constable's hands, for my apprehension. In perfect unconsciousness of all this, however, I was scamp- ering off as fast as my horse could carry me, and so 1 con- tinued to do the whole of the next day, and a constable weuld have had to ride at John Gilpin's speed to have brought me within the clutches of my prosecutors. The truth is, that the wedding had so delayed me, that so soon as it was effected, I found myself under a necessity of rid- ing at a full gallop in order to reach my appointment for the night; and on the next day, finding the distance to my next meeting to be much greater than I had supposed, I was obliged to go on at the same speed. And thus, by these purely accidental circumstances, was I saved. At Peru, where I stopped for a few days and preached, I procured a dearborn wagon, and changed my mode of travel. Thence I drove to Huron, at the mouth of the river by that name, on the southern shore of lake Erie; whence I took passage on a steamboat for Buffalo. I had now traveled over Ohio, in zig-zag directions, for full four hundred miles in all : I had observed that in nearly all its towns and settlements there existed a disposition, in many of them an eagerness, to hear the gospel of a world's salvation. The opposition thereto, I perceived, was in scarcely any of them so organised, and consequently not so vigorous as in the older States. In addition to this, I saw that the coun- try was one of immense resources, a fertile soil, a plenitude of water-power, amply furnished with mineral wealth, oc- cupying a central situation, and being, to a large extent, a thoroughfare of travel in various directions; with the Lake on its northern, and the Ohio on its south-eastern borders; having, withal, a fine climate, and an agreeably diversified surface. Perceiving the State to possess all these advan- tages, I became seized with a burning desire that it should become, to a much larger extent than it was, a field of Universalist labor. I felt sure that the same amount of OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 161 effort for the spread of truth that was being made in some portions of the older States, must necessarily effect much greater results here; and the language of Caleb and Joshua was continually uprising in my mind, as applicable to my co-laborers in the gospel — " Let us go up at once and pos- sess the land, for we are well able to overcome it." The passage to Buffalo occupied three nights and two days, and was an uncommonly boisterous one, I had not calculated on so unusually long a passage, and had failed to provide a sufficiency of provender for my horse; the poor brute devoured my whip, and one of the floor-boards of my dearborn, for lack of more dainty and nutritious fare. It was the second week in April, and nature, on the northernmost border of Ohio, had put on her spring robes; her mantle of green was bright, and her head-gear was profusely bedecked with lilach-flowers and peach-blossoms: nevertheless, in the vicinity of Buffalo she had not yet re- lented from the suUenness of her wintry mood, and might have been found by morbid minds disposed to break affec- tion with her, in all the unsightliness of her dishabille. I preached a Sabbath in Buffalo; and judged our cause there to be in about as cold a state as the clime in which it was situated. But in this judgment I may have erred, as my stay in the place was not sufficiently long to enable me to acquaint myself with its real condition. Thence I passed on to Le Roy, where Alfred Peck then resided; with him I tarried several days, and preached both there and at Pa- villion, between which places he was dividing his labors. I also preached at Perry, at Rochester, at Victor, at Au- burn, at Geneva, at Genoa, and numerous other places in western and central New York. With its scenery I was charmed exceedingly. I cannot well conceive a landscape combining, in a superior degree, magnificence and quiet beauty ; and the inhabitants of that splendid realm have co-operated nobly with nature in embellishing it. Their dwellings are neat in structure, and dazzlingly white ; their towns and hamlets are adorned with elegant edifices and garden enclosures, with numerous ornamental shade-trees, and churches of exquisite models and symmetry of propor- tions. With several of our ministers in that region I formed a pleasant acquaintance; with A. K. Townsend I spent sev- eral days at Victor; with G. W. Montgomery, and Jacob Chase, jr., I also spent some time, respectively, at Auburn and Geneva. My descriptive powers would utterly fail me 162 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS in an attempt to depict the loveliness of the two latter towns, more especially the last, so far as respects its situa- tion; and yet Canadaigua is, as I conceive, taking it all in all, the undisputed paragon of western New York. I arrived at my home in Susquehanna county, after an absence of five months, where, after remaining for a few weeks, we made arrangements for our removal from thence to Cincinnati. We had spent four years there amongst pleasant and amiable friends: we had known, at times, " how to be empty," and but very seldom "how to abound,'* yet had we experienced no small degree of humble hap- piness there; and if our income was small, so also was our expenditure; my whole wearing apparel, indeed, from hat to shoes inclusive, rarely ever cost me any thing, but were usually presented to me, article by article as 1 needed it; for money is commonly less plentiful than other things in that country. Desiring to be present at one more Association in the State of New York, previous to my removal, I sat out, ac- companied by my wife, for Hartwick, in Otsego county, where one was appointed to be held on the third Wednesday and Thursday in June. The distance was full one hun- dred miles by the route we took — a most delightful one. We crossed the Susquehanna at the Great Bend; thence proceeded to Binghampton, at the confluence of that and the Chenango rivers; thence up the last named river to the very handsome village of Oxford; from whence we crossed a pleasant hill country which divides the Chenango from the Unadilla river. At a little villa called Mount Upton we stopped to dine at the residence of one of our ministers, Edwin Ferris, author of a book entitled " The Plain Restitutionist;" but which, in truth, is any thing but plain to my apprehension. We then passed up the very charming valley of Butter-nuts, about eighteen miles, and were delighted with the fineness of the road, the elegance of the farms and villas, the fertility of the flats, and the picturesque beauty of the arable slopes on either hand. From Butter-nut valley we again crossed a hill country between it and the Susquehanna, on the banks of which latter river stands the village of Hartwick, nine miles be- low the point where the river issues from the Otsego lake and commences its sinuous course to the Chesapeake bay. The Association at Hartwick was, of all the meetings of the kind I had attended, the most lively and animating. OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 163 The congregation was very large at the commencement, and it continued to increase to the close. A custom prevails on these occasions in York State which well accords with the genius of our doctrine. Brethren living in the vicinity of the place of meeting accommodate as many as possible at their houses, v/hile those living too remote come laden with provisions for the supply of the congregation during the intervals of worship. The coun- cil room is usually the scene of this common feast, emble- matical of " the feast of fat things to all people." Bread, butter, cheese, pie, and cake of various kinds, are profusely spread out on a table, or bench, and high and low, rich and poor, Jew and Gentile, " all that will come, may come," and partake freely, " without money and without price." J. H. Gihon, one of our Pennsylvania ministers, was quite elated at a scene so realizing the visions of prophecy re- lative to the bonds of good-will which should bind man to man under Messiah's reign : he had never witnessed the like in his own State; and I fear me it will be long ere the leaven of gospel influence will so far pervade Pennsylva- nia, as to elevate it to an equality with New York and the Eastern States, in these respects. At the close of the Association we accompanied Job Pot- ter to his home in Cooperstown, which, as the reader may know, is the capitol of Otsego county, and is situate at the foot of the lake of that name. The reader is also pro- bably aware that it is the scene of one of Cooper's novels — " the Pioneers." Here the northern branch of the Sus- quehanna has its birth, and it is a spot worthy the immor- tality it has acquired from Cooper's fascinating pen. If I could think of an adjective which 1 have not already em- ployed in my descriptions, and which would at once express the ideas of neatness, elegance, jjicluresqueness, quietness, seclusion, I would apply it to Cooperstown; for it verily possesses these qualities in itself, and in its situation, to a degree unequalled by any place within my remembrance. My interest in the place was heightened by the fact that the cause of truth was very prosperous there, under the pastoral labors of Job Potter, whose virtues secured to him the esteem and confidence of all who knew him. The Universalists of Cooperstown, besides a meeting house at Fly Creek, three miles distant, possess a new and excel- lent one within the borough. From thence we proceeded to Utica, by the way of Rich- 164 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS field Springs, where our brethren own a fine stone church. The spring there is strongly sulphurous in its smell and taste, and oozes up from a solid rock, higher by many feet than the ground in its immediate vicinity. We reached Utica, and were hospitably welcomed by Mrs. Skinner, her husband being from home. A. B. Grosh was soon apprised of our arrival, and came to spend the evening with us, ac- companied by his father and mother, who M^ere on a visit to him from Pennsylvania. We spent a very pleasant evening together, having only its brevity to regret. The next day we drove to Clinton, through a country of surpassing beauty by nature, and embellished by art with many tasteful mansions and farms exhibiting a high degree of culture. The Hamilton College (Presbyterian) is at Clinton ; it occupies an eminence from whence the eye may range in various directions over a landscape of luxu- riant fertility, embossed with innumerable dwellings of snowy whiteness, and teeming to repletion with human life. The Universalists, also, have a college there for male students, which is a massive, and not inelegant stone building; and a neat academy for females, which is a two- storied wooden edifice, surmounted by a cupola. Both these establishments are pleasantly situated, and are enjoy- ing a liberal share of public patronage. Stephen R. Smith was then the Universalist minister at Clinton; with him we abode during our stay, and on the morrow, being the Sab- bath, we attended divine service at his church. In the evening of the same day I preached in the church at Utica. Dalphus Skinner was then the resident minister there; he had returned in time to supply his desk during the day, and we therefore had the pleasure of his society until our departure for Pitcher Springs, whither we went to attend a Conference which was held on the last Wednesday and Thursday in June. Of Utica it can scarcely be necessary for me to give a description: much has been said by tourists and journalists in its praise, and they have not exaggerated its claims to admiration: I must own that it surpassed my preconceptions of it, both in magnitude and magnificence. It is, indeed, a splendid city — cleanly, neat, well shaded; its better class of edifices fancifully adorned, even its foot-pavements fan- cifully chequered with flag-stones and brick work, and some of its buildings exhibit even a toy-like gaudiness of embellishment. It lies, too, as the reader knows, in the OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 165 lap of the Mohawk valley, and therefore wants not the ad- vantage of one of the finest situations in the world to give full effect to its beauty. We had a very pleasant Conference at Pitcher Springs; a large congregation, and many warm hearted and inter- esting friends. Thence, with Nelson Doolittle and his wife, who were present at the Conference, we returned to Oxford, where I preached in the evening. The Sunday following, 1 preached at Greene, a pleasant village on the Chenango river, where I had several times preached be- fore; and the same afternoon at a school-house some four miles above Binghampton, on the same river. The neigh- borhood was a Presbyterian one, and a Sunday-school of that kind was occupying the house at the time of my arri- val; the teachers whereof successively prosed at the schol- ars on the immense, the almost infinite, and certainly the eternal advantages, which might result to them from regu- lar and serious attendance upon the lessons there inculca- ted. If they had added, that said lessons tended to fill the heart with charity, and improve the manners, their own subsequent conduct would have grossly belied the aver- ment; for several of those same teachers remained for my meeting, and their conduct was so at odds with common propriety, that I was under the painful necessity of pub- licly reproving it. "If Universalists,'''' said I, in effect, "should, at a Pres- byterian place of worship, read pamphlets or newspapers during religious service; if thei/ should whisper together, make mouths and the like, why, doubtless, it would be a wicked thing in them, because, as every body knows, they are a wicked people ; but when Preshyterians do the same, it must be regarded, on their part, as but a manifestation of their peculiar kind of piety, which feels itself under no sort of obligation to restrain its expressions of scorn at every thing which in the remotest degree approximates to what is unorthodox, however much in violation of common decorum such expressions may be." Our last stop for preaching was at Binghampton, where I often preached in those days; and always, until very re- cently, to very small audiences, composed chiefly of the humbler class of citizens. What, then, was my induce- ment? — the pecuniary recompense? I assure the reader that, for some thirty sermons which I preached there in all, the total of my pay would not have purchased the 166 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS means to keep me from starving, if a penny loaf had suf- ficed to that end. And as to the pleasure of the thing, it was pretty well balanced by the mortification of having to meet in a little obscure school-house in that proud village, and addressing c. few humble individuals, who were subject to be scoffed at for so far bemoaning themselves as to con- sent to hear me. And yet, Binghampton was one of the places at which I best loved to preach in those days, and it was doubtless owing to the warm sympathy I felt with the strug- gling and humble few who, against every discouragement, so zealously maintained their cause in that abode of intol- erance and bigotry. CHAPTER VIII. A second journey to the West — Visits the southern portion of New Jersey — Settles with the Cincinnati Society — Organizes a Society at Patriot, Indiana — Connects himself with the "Sentinel and Star in the West" — Travels in behalf of that paper — Sees some dark days about that time. At the time of our removal from Susquehanna county, we had one only child, a daughter, aged nearly two years. Our property was summed up in a horse and chaise, and one hundred dollars in money, with not one penny of in- debtedness to any body. We thought ourselves rich ! And were we not so? We have never, at all events, been as rich since. We were rich in youth, in health, in hope, in the approval of those to whom we were known, in a strong trust in Providence, and in the possession — may I presume to add? — of "« cheerful heart, to taste those gifts with joy y As we were in no haste, and my wife had never seen that city, we took the route through Philadelphia, which from the home we were leaving was distant one hundred and fifty miles. We lingered there, and thereabouts, for nearly a month, and visited portions of West Jersey in the meanwhile, where I employed myself in the old way, of preaching wherever openings could be obtained for the purpose. Bridgeton, and in the neighborhood of Esquire Fithian, forty or fifty miles South of Philadelphia, I had been preceded by A.C. Thomas, and 1 know not but other OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 167 of our ministers; but below there, in the whole distance to the southernmost point of the State, there had never be- fore been a visitor of the kind, and I am in great doubt if there ever has since. I regret that I have forgotten the name of a young school-teacher, who accompanied , me down thither, and also the names of the several villages in which I preached; I remember, however, that a sea-ser- pent could hardly have been a greater curiosity in that re- gion than was a Universalist preacher, and not a particle more of a novelty. Moricetown, I remember, was one of the places alluded to; it is on the southern shore of a river of the same name. It had got out the evening before, that a Universalist minister had applied for the use of the Methodist church on the morrow. The morrow came; it was the Sabbath ; it was amusing to see the people flocking to the house from all directions; there were many more than the house could contain. " You cannot have the house, sir," said a person lo me as I was approaching it. " Very well," answered I quietly, " I will be an attendant on your worship there, then." I went in accordingly, and took a seat with others of the congregation: a dead silence prevailed for several minutes, only occasionally interrupted by a deep drawn sigh from one and another of the Metho- dist leaders. Then a consultation, in whispers, ensued, accompanied with uneasy glances at the throng within and around the house, as much as to say, " These people are evidently collected in this extraordinary number for the purpose of hearing this stranger preach: it were an im- politic step on our part to disappoint their expectation, so we must even submit." Accordingly, the local preacher approached me, and after heaving a sigh of unusual length and depth, he addressed me with, " Brother, we have con- cluded to have you preach for us, if you will." I was agreed, of course; and as I knew it to be the first sermon of the kind they were about to hear, and expected it would for a long while be the last, I addressed them with the ut- most explicitness for the space of an hour and a half. On the same night, I addressed another large Methodist congregation, under nearly similar circumstances, in a village about fifteen miles east of Moricetown. My text was, " the doctrine of endless suffering is, first, Unscrip- tural. Second, Unreasonable. Third, Unfit to Uyq by. Fourth, Unfit to die by." I spoke full two hours to those several propositions, and was eagerly importuned to tarry 168 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS longer in the place, and to speak to the people again of those things. I preached a Sabbath in each of our churches at Phila- delphia; and then, accompanied by Savillion W. Fuller, I made a visit to Bucks county, and held some meetings in the woods near Addissville, where, as the reader may re- member, I had oft aforetime preached, both as a good chris- tian and as a heretic. S. W. Fuller has sometime since Ceased from his earthly labors: very pleasant was his mor- tal companionship, and pleasant is the hope that we have lost him but for a season, that we may enjoy him again forever. We proceeded in our chaise, to our Western destination ^ by the way of Lancaster, Carlisle, Chambersburg, and Bedford. The first hundred and fifty miles is through a fertile country; well watered, and densely populated; con- taining the hugest Dutch barns that are any where to be found. The climate, also, of that region is good; its at- mosphere is salubrious; and facilities of egress therefrom to the seaboard are easy and numerous. It proved well for us that some Universalists happened to be traveling behind us in the same direction, for, as we approached Lancaster, two men on horseback overtook us, one of whom called our attention to a large and well-filled port- manteau that he held in his hand, and which, we were sur- prised to find, was our own. " Your trunk, also, would have fallen off in a few minutes more," said he, " for the strap which held it is unfastened." We found it was even so 1 Our portmanteau and trunk had been strapped on behind, and were hidden from our view by the chaise top; the former had fallen off in the road some twenty minutes before, and the latter would soon have followed; and, it is doubtful whether we should have known of our loss until we had stopped at night, when the discovery might have little availed us. " Whither are you journeying?" inquired one of the gentlemen. We informed him, to Cincinnati; and also, that I was about to settle there as a Universalist preacher. They heard this with a pleased surprise; in- forming us that they, also, were of that faith, and w^ere residents of Athens county, Ohio, through which our min- isters occasionally passed. At Chambersburg we deviated from our route at a right angle, fo go to Funkstown, in Maryland, twenty three miles south of the former place. Our sole motive was, OF A UNIVERSALIS! PREACHER. 169 that having been informed that a Universalist preacher was residing there, and knowing, from the character of its community in general, that such a region must necessarily be a hard one for such a preacher, we felt impressed with a persuasion that a visit from a brother minister would encourage his heart and strenghen his hands. Of him we knew nothing previously, and had even heard nothing. It was toward night when we reached Funkstown. We inquired of one, and another, whom we met, if a Univer- salist preacher, named Davis, lived in the place? Nobody knew anything of such a person, nor of such a character residing anywhere thereabout. Of course, we concluded we had been misinformed about it, and therefore drove to an Inn to put up till morning. As the landlord was about, to put away my horse, however, I thought I would make one inquiry more. "Davis?'' replied he, " a Universalist minister? — Oh! yes; he lives in that little log house you see yonder." To the little log house 1 went straightway — knocked; a feeble voice responded, *'Come in." I entered and advanced toward the pale occupant of an arm-chair — his lower limbs bandaged with flannels. ''Are you Mr. Davis?" I asked. "I am," he replied. "Are you a Uni- versalist preacher?" " Yes." •' Then," said I, " you arc the person I have come to see. I am George Rogers;" and I advanced and extended my hand to him. " George Rogers !" exclaimed he, springing from his chair as if he had been electrified; at which his wife uttered a cry of surprise, for he had not risen from his chair without as- sistance for weeks before. And I doubt me if he would have done so for many weeks subsequent, if ever, had it not been for the accident of our visit. But was it an acci- dent, think you, reader? Their history was, that they had removed from Balti- more thither some months before; that he had taken sick on the day after his removal, and had so continued since; that all around them were strangers to them, and charac- teristically shy and unsocial towards persons of English origin, being themselves Germans by birth or extraction; and that their pecuniary condition was depressed and em- barrassed. Can they be blamed for having felt greatly discouraged under such circumstances? And would not our visit seem to have been providentially directed? We tarried a week thereabout; he going with me in my car- 12 170 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, ANP TRAVELS riage to various places in the vicinity, and my wife re- maining with her. We went in company to Harper's Ferry. Virginia, where I delivered one discourse. Our road thither was most shockingly rough. I had bad some good degree of expe- rience in rough traveling, I supposed, but it had not pre- pared me for this. The traveler had at least two chances against his neck to one in its favor. We passed an index- board pointing to the place, which was bottom side up; a fit emblem, I thought, of the fate of carriages which should travel that road. I am puzzled, as yet, to account how mine happened to keep its centre of gravity within th« base. Harper's Ferry, our readers know, or may know by a reference to the map, is at the junction of the Shenandoah with the Potomac river. Jefferson, in his Notes on Vir- ginia, describes it as so wild and curious as to justify a visit from across the Atlantic. There is perhaps a little exaggeration in this, although as it regards the scientijic visitant, it may be true. It is undeniably one of nature's masterpieces, in the wild and sublime exhibitions of her power. A United States' Armory is located there; an ex- tensive establishment, giving employment to a great num- ber of hands. It seems to me, however, a very unfit loca- tion, both from its unhealthiness and its want of space for the necessary buildings, which are huddled together on a narrow strip of ground under a very precipitous ledge of some three hundred feet in altitude. Some of the houses^ and all the churches, of which there are three, are perched upon the very acclivity itself, and to be able to see them from the street below, you must throw back your head so as to vary but a few degrees from a right angle with your shoulders. They are ascended to by means of steps cut in the ledge. I should be proud on some future visit, to see a Universalist church looking down on the Potomac from the sublime height of three hundred feet. We also visited Sheppardstown, Virginia, where I preached to a very respectable and deeply attentive con- gregation. The meeting was in the large dining-hall of the principal hotel. Being anxious, on account of Mr. Davis' feeble state of health, to do all I could in the parts, I also laid siege to Hagerstown, a large and flourishing place, containing some five thousand inhabitants. But it Was a time of political excitement. I preached two eve- OF A UNiVERSALIST PHEACHER. 171 flings, incurring some tavern charge each evening, and although the audience seemed highly respectable, and gave great attention, yet not an individual gave the least manifestation of friendliness towards us personally, and would not, perhaps, had we continued a month amongst them,' a too common characteristic of German towns, and very chilling in its influence on the preacher's feelings. Nothing of the kind is experienced in New York, or the New England States, or Northern Peunsylvania. The people there know nothing of this phlegmatic coldness to- wards a stranger, who comes to them on a message of love from heaven. From Funkstown we returned to our route by the way of Clear Spring, where 1 preached an evening to an over- flowing congregation. I was violently attacked at the •close by a preacher of the New Light school. On two points, he was sure, infallibly sure, that he could hem me in past escape. The first was as follows: The Scriptures reveal but one way of salvation; that way is by faith m Jesus Christ. In the future life faith cannot be exercised,* all there is certainty. Now it is undeniable that millions leave the world without faith in Christ; for these then there can be no salvation. He assured the audience that from this refutation of Universalism there was no possible refuge; and that the only reason why preachers of our faith had the audacity to continue propagating it about the country, was, that but ^ew men in the world understood the art of attacking our heresy with effect. However this might be, I deemed that an attempt at escape from this wondrous dilemma would be no sin, and I made it as fol- lows : All who die in infancy, die without faith in Christ; in the future life faith is impossible; ergo, all who die in infancy are damned! Now if the argument against Uni- versalism is good for anything, this is equally so, and it equally applies against the salvation of all who die in hea- thenism or idiocy. By proving too much, therefore, it proves nothing. His second dilemma was based on the case of the ser- vant, in the gospel, who was cast by his offended Lord into prison until he should pay the uttermost farthing. " But," demanded my querist — who assumed the applicability of the case to the future state of sinners in general — " but as he * had nothing wherewith to pay,' how is he ever to dis- charge that debt and get out of hell?" 172 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS wered I. " Can you point me to any such act," he demanded, " in the gospel economy?" " Assuredly I can, my friend," was my reply, " and here it is: ' All have sinned, and come short of the glory of God; being justified freely by his grace, through the redemption that it is in Christ Jesus.' Here, I think, is an act of universal aJsolvency from a condition of universal insolvency; an absolution co-extensive with the indebted- ness of our whole race." It were strange, indeed -think you not so, reader? — if the statutes of heaven were less benevolently considerate of human incapacity than are the laws of man! West of Chambersburg fourteen miles is a little village called Loudon; it is at the very foot of one of those nu- merous ridges, of which the traveler will be heartily tired before he reaches Pittsburg. I preached there on a Sab- bath evening, and some came to hear me from the oppo- site foot of the ridge, which is distant eight miles. In the evening we called on an aged friend named Walker; his residence is twenty-six miles from Loudon, in the town of Licking; so called, I presume, from a creek of that name which runs through it. I preached there xw ^ free meeting house, which never- theless, was opened for the occasion joer /orce ; it was situ- ated in a wild looking place enough; embosomed in woods, in a deep, deep dell, to which one would think the sun would never find its way. I had so fatigued myself during the day, by walking up the mountain for the relief of my horse, and by walking a full mile to the meeting from Mr. Walker"'s, that it was with the utmost difficulty I could keep my eyes open through my sermon, or get my mouth closed after widely opening it: there seemed a wondrous- ly strong attraction that night between my breast and lower jaw. How my tongue got through its office, except from habit, I cannot account. We did not stop at Bedford over more than one night, and that the night of an election day; so of course I made no attempt to preach. But I called on and introduced my wife to the Sheriff, who had befriended me the winter before so seasonably, and we breakfasted with him to- gether next morning by invitation. On our arrival at Pittsburg we found our friends in that OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 173 city in eager expectation of us; they had founded high hopes on my ability to accomplish great things for them there, and I must needs go to work without delay in order to a fulfillment of the same, if possible. Meanwhile a let- ter from Cincinnati informed me that there, also, my com- ing was looked for with much anxiety, and that our cause must remain in statu quo until I should arrive. Well, on the principle of " first come, first served," I went most earnestly into the work at Pittsburg. We had to be con- tent with the Concert Hall for our chapel, upon the walls of which were hung pictures representing the different figures of a quadrille; and in the rear of which was a nine-pin alley! In this gracious place, for which we were charged five dollars a week, I preached three sermons per Sabbath, for nine weeks. During which time 1 organized a society, and procured the purchase of a small Baptist meeting-house. This done, I remembered my sick fellow-laborer at Funkstown, S. A, Davis, and effected arrangements where- by he was settled as the pastor of the Pittsburg society. I set down those nine weeks of incessant care, labor and vexation at Pittsburg, as decidedly the most toilsome of my whole life; and for them I neither received, expected, nor wished any recompence. I kjiew it to be utterly out of the power of the society to render it, in conjunction with their other heavy disbursements. They had the will. God bless them ! It was mid December when we embarked at Pittsburg for Cincinnati. The navigation had been obstructed for two or three weeks by the freezing of the river, and ours was the first boat which ventured to put out when the ice sufficiently disparted to admit of a boat forcing through. Under these circumstances, it was not until after a tedious passage of four days and nights that we reached the Queen City. Our place of worship, when I commenced my pastoral duties at Cincinnati, was the school-house aforementioned, now used as a stable, at the corner of Sixth and Vine streets. It was usually well filled at our meetings, but it required no vast multitude to fill it. It was not long ere we purchased the property then owned by the Me- chanics' Institute, at the price of six thousand six hun- dred dollars, which, valuing the building at naught, was at the rate of one hundred dollars per foot. It was deemed 174 EXPERIENCE^ LABOKS, AND TRAVELS a very cheap purchase, and it assuredly was an opportune- one for us, for it put us at once into possession of a build- ing which answered our purpose as a place of worship for several years. We were poor in pecuniary means at that time, however, and it put our friends to a strain of their liberality to get along with it. Meanwhile, I had visited and formed a society at Patriot^ Indiana, about fifty miles by water from Cincinnati, and twenty-eight by land. Two families had removed thither from the latter city the summer before, whose interest in Universalism had been awakened at my meetings of the previous winter. Our society there was increased from time to time, until it comprised nearly all in the place who professed Christianity. They immediately began to hold meetings for worship on the Sabbath, and they have continued the practice to the present time, whether they were with or without a pastor. They own a fine brick church at present, and a preacher may generally assure himself of finding it well filled at the times appointed, whatever may be the state of the weather or the roads. Well, my barque had now been for a considerable while gliding smoothly along before favorable breezes, and it must needs at length encounter adverse gales and tossing billows. In plain terms, I had had a long season of unin- terrupted prosperity; every thing to which 1 had laid my hands had seemed to prosper; but from this period I began to experience reverses, which Hewhoknoweth man's heart knew to be necessary for me, " lest 1 might be exalted above measure." At the earnest solicitation of Samuel Tizzard, the then proprietor of the Sentinel and Star in the West, I consent- ed to become an assistant editor of that publication. It had just been removed from Philomath, Indiana, where it had been published for some two years, much to its detri- ment, aiid to the great loss and mortification of its pub- lisher. It was thought that I might succeed in resuscita- ting it; and I was easily induced to try to do, in those days^ whatever I believed was possible to he done for the further- ance of the cause of truth. Accordingly, procuring Wil- liam West, from Philadelphia, to supply my place at Cin- cinnati, I took leave of absence for several weeks, and journeyed northerly, with the view of making what inte- rest I could for the paper in that direction. This, to me, was as sheer a self-sacrifice as I ever vol- OF A UNITERSALIST PREACHER. 17S untarily subjected myself to. I had borne the main brunt of the difficulties incident to the establishing of a church in a large city, and to those who have not experienced them it is not easily conceivable what those difficulties are. Between my substitute, Mr. West, and myself, there exist- ed a private understanding, that should the society then approve of the measure, 1 would resign my pastoral rela- tion thereto in his favor on my return. This surrender of the advantage that might accrue to myself from what had been already effected at Cincinnati, was wholly induced by my most earnest desire for a wide diffusion of our principles in the West. I trusted that I could achieve much in that way by connecting myself with the publica- tion aforenamed, because, while traveling in its behalf, I should accomplish the double object of preaching the gos- pel to a greater number, and obtaining for that valuable periodical a wider circulation and ampler support. The following sketch comprises the incidents of my first tour for that object. I took the boat for Beaver early in April; the river was up, and filled its bed from bank to bank; to avoid the brunt of the current the boat plied closely along the shores. It is a pretty thing to be a gliding under the very trees that fringe the margin of the river; in a thousand instances one might have stepped on shore without inconvenience, or have clung to the extended limb of an elm or a syca- more, or conversed with a mounted traveler going in the same direction. On no other river in the world, with which I am acquainted, are the same facilities of travel afforded, both on the stream and the immediate shores; and the spectacle of a boat stealing along amongst the foliage of the banks is one which is full of beauty and romance. " Great men are not always wise" — If we were even not told so in holy writ, we should have frequent occa- sions of finding it out for ourselves. Among my fellow passengers was Professor J., the author of several able and popular productions. I had had considerable conversation with an ingenious young man aboard, of the Presbyterian persuasion. The Professor, fearing, as would seem, that in such company my young friend's faith might be endan- gered, slipped into his hand Bishop Burnett's Free Thoughts on Religion. It was opened at the page where the prelate has condescended to prove that some people must be end- lessly damned. How well he proves that comforting point, 176 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS may be gathered from the following synopsis. "Sin is infinite, because committed against an infinite Being. An infinite offence is deserving of infinite punishment. Such punishment cannot be inflicted in this life. Consequently, it must be perpetuated to eternity." God help you, reader, if you cannot see the fallacy of such a corollary! for then has nature gifted you with brains to little purpose. In English statute law, an offence against the king is greater than if the same were committed against the person next to him in dignity; and so, if I mistake not, the scale of culpabili- ty may descend to the meanest subject in regular gradua- tion. But in common sense, which among men is God/s law, if I injure a beggar, in person, fame, or property, I sin as greatly as though I offended against the greatest monarch on earth. But after all, the injury intended, con- stitutes the measure of criminality, rather than the injury done, and the capacity of the offender must also be taken into the account; for who would 'think of holding a babe, or an idiot accountable? If, then, it could be shown that the sinner intended an infinite evil; and if, also, it could be shown that he was capable of appreciating the evil in- tended, and had full power both to intend and to act other- wise, why then, undoubtedly, his offence might justly be pronounced an infinite one, and his punishment might be infinite also, if punishment contemplates revenge for sin committed, rather than prevention of its future commis- sion. If these premises are sound, how slender is the chance that infinite punishment can be justified to right reason! But my argument has not been getting me on- ward to Beaver. My object at Beaver was the establishment of the Star in the West there, as a position more central than Cincin- nati, to the Universalist population of the West.* It is a point to which access is easy in all directions; healthily and delightfully situated, and happy should I have been to remove thither and contend with the bigotry of that priest- ridden region. Ovid Pinney, a wealthy proprietor there, offered me very liberal inducements to fix me at that lo- cation, but circumstances beyond my control decided other- wise. So adieu to that project ! Marietta and Be.^pre. Eusebius Hoagg, of the Pitts- *Il is far I'rom being so at present, as the doctrine has n)ore spread southerly and westerly from that point, than in opposite directions. OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 177 burg Society, expressing a solicitude to devote himself to the ministry, I visited Washington county, Ohio, in order to prepare a location for him there. On my arrival at Marietta I had the happiness to find L. L. Saddler there; we spent a day together surveying the Indian mounds and other remains, which are prominent objects in that vicini- ty. He left the next day for Belpre, fifteen miles below, where he was engaged to spend the Sabbath, and where on Monday I joined him and delivered a discourse in the eve- ning. I was wet and very weary, having had numerous fences to pull down, and lots to cross, and ravines to get over as best I could, amid floods of rain which soaked me to the skin. We next day rode in company to Wesley, where each delivered a sermon in a little church owned in part by our friends. Thence I proceeded to Water- town, where I delivered a series of discourses, at which the Presbyterian clergyman and several of his people were present. We had a lively, comfortable, and reviving time together. The Presbyterian clergyman is apparent- ly a very liberal man. June snow, they say, will cure weak eyes. I should think the sight of a liberal Presby- terian preacher might possess the same rare property, as the two circumstances are about equally common.* Grave Creek, Virginia. Having bought a horse at Watertown, I commenced my journey up the left bank of the river, independent of steamboats. I confess, however, as now and then I was passed by one of them, I could not but envy those on board their cool and comfortable quar- ters, as well as the rapid rate at which they got along. My road along the river, had by recent freshets, been re- duced to an almost impassable condition; the bridges had been swept away from over the numerous small creeks on the route, and in many places the road had been so ob- structed with heaps of flood-wood, that I had to cross wet meadows and ploughed fields, and pick my way along the declivities of the river hills, which was not only exceed- ingly toilsome, but dangerous too betimes. Ah ! Nature, thou grudging jade ! thou never bestowest special favors but thou exactest a pay in disadvantages therefor; and so, as the price of a residence on these lovely shores, one * That clergyman proved about as liberal as others of the same school. He subsequently held two or three discussions with one and another ot our preachers in that region, of which he published exparte and highly abusive reports. 178 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS must be subjected now and then to the annoyance of a destructive freshet; and agues must sometimes rack his bones; and hordes of piratical mosquitoes m.ust tap his system, as a sure preventive of its ever becoming gouty or plethoric. Well, all is right, I doubt not. ' There will be briars where berries grow.' Grave Creek is twelve miles below Wheeling, on the Virginia shore of the river. It takes its name from one of those remarkable artificial mounds which abound in the Mississippi valley. This is a noted one; it is some sixty feet in height, and covers nearly an acre of ground ; its shape is a parabola, depressed at the top, which is crowned with several large forest trees. A fine prospect is obtain- able from its summit over a wide and level alluvial tract of country. I preached some ten sermons in that part of Virginia, and made my home meanwhile with George N. Cox and Doctor Baldwin. The former was for many years a Methodist minister, but is now a preacher of salvation to all m«^n as the gift of God; not of works, lest any man should boast. The worship versus the service of God. " And pray, sir," asked I of a preacher, as we rode together up the left bank of the river, " what mean you by the service of God] " " I mean, sir," he replied, " the praying to him, the waiting upon him in the ways of his appointment, the medi- tating on his word and character, the exercising a godly sorrow for sin, etc. This, sir, is what I call serving God." " So do not 7," was my answer, " and hence, between us there, an issue arises. To me it seems that all that you have mentioned may be done to the end of one''s life, as it has been in all ages by monkish and ascetic men, and yet God be unserved the while. One may kneel before an earthly potentate, or, in oriental style, prostrate one's self in the dust before him. Another may never have done personal court to the monarch, nor bowed in his presence, yet he has lived in the habitual fulfillment of his laws, promoting, by his industry, the prosperity of his realm, and, by iiis virtuous example, the happiness of his fellow subjects. Now, sir, one of these jvorships his sovereign, and the other serves him: which is the more profitable subject, think you? " " Am I to deduce from this the conclusion, that Univer- OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 179 salists repudiate prayer, meditation, and other acts and exercises of a merely devotional character?" " No sir; only that of the two, we think that to serve God is of more importance, because of more utility, than merely to worship him. Ah ! if the Great Father were but the hundredth part as well served^ as in one form and another he is worshipped, there would be incalculably more virtue and happiness amongst his children. Rightly understood, the loorship of God is but a means, of which the qualifying of ourselves for his service is the end. Not for itself, then, but for the end's sake, is the ivorship of God to be engaged in : whereas, the service of God is de- sirable for its own sake; for to serve God, is to act for the good of mankindP •' But, sir," somewhat tartly retorted the other, '^ your doctrine being true; all being destined for salvation ulti- mately, however they may have lived; of what use is it to be at the trouble of serving God, or worshipping him either?" •' Do you imagine, sir, that it was a trouble to your mother to serve youV "Ahem! I suppose, sir, that she may not have so con- sidered it." "And if God were more loved, sir, would his service seem so troublesome? The yoke of Christ, sir, is easy : his burden is light. And why? Because his religion pre- sents Jehovah in points of view which show him to be lovely; and to serve a being we love is no hardship. As saith the poet, ' Love makes our service liberty, Our every burden light.' And, sir, what we do from preference, we want no reward for doing. Did your mother want to be paid, or did she expect to gain heaven, by serving you 1 " "Ahem! It seems to me that you ask strange questions, sir, and institute strange comparisons." " Perfectly natural questions, sir, nevertheless. As to your mother, 1 can answer at a venture, that the only pay she required was the pleasure it afforded her to see that her service made you happy. When you were sick, she sacrificed her nightly rest to you, and thought it no hard- ship; she bore with your petulence, your waywardness, your ingraiitude; for many weary days and nights together did she this; and when at length your symptoms indicated 180 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS an improvement in your state, she blessed God that in your restoration to health she was about to be amply com- pensated for all her toils and sufferings on your behalf. Love, sir, is the essential thing required to make duty a pleasure; and if professed christians more truly possessed it, they would not, methinks, so regulate their service of God, as it would seem they do, by the chances of their getting paid for it after their death. They would find their pay in it; while they live; during its performance. The ' doer of the work,' James says, ' is blessed in his deed;' and says David, ^ In keeping thy commandments there is great reward.' "" The widow Ratcliff had given our friends at Grave Creek an acre of ground for a church-site and burial-place. She is in her eighty-fifth year, and the faculties of her mind are yet unclouded. For sixty-three years she has resided on those Ohio shores; and in all probability, she was the first white woman who was ever a resident in that valley, from Wheeling to the Mexican gulf. She and her hus- band were compelled by the Indians to fly their home a year or so after their first arrival; all they had was aban- doned in the haste of their flight. While 1 was at Mari- etta, she was on a visit to her son on the opposite shore, and she hobbled out on two Sabbath's to hear me preach; expressing great satisfaction that she had once more en- joyed such an opportunity before she went hence.* * Being, sometime subsequent, at the house of General Baldwin, of Edwardsville, Ohio, he related an interesting circumstance con- cerning the same excellent woman, which is highly creditable to her generosity and patriotism. The General had belonged to the army which was engaged in fighting the British on the Canadian frontier, and after the toils of the campaign, was returning to his native home in Virginia. His weary journey was nearly completed on his reaching the Flats of Grave Creek, where Mrs. Tomlinson kept an Inn, at which he and five of his military comrades stopped, and bespoke supper and quar- ters for the night. Alter supper the travelers were prejniring to sleep on the floor, in camp fashion, each with his blanket wrapt around him and his knapsack for a pillow; but their kind hostess would not allow that; she had a good clean bed for each ot them, she said; and. despite their remonstrances, (for thev had become accustomed to the hard mode of sleeping 1 have described) they were prevailed on to occupy them. In the n^orning she again kindly opposed her will to theirs. They would have started away without breaking their fast, but she insisted on their having a good warm brerikfast, and when, after this was finished, they inquired what they had to pay. '"'■ Pay P'' said she, with noble disd^dn, '■'■ If I could not erdcrtain those ivho have been /ig/itingfor my count y, without taking their money for iti I should think myself unworthy of the country I live in .'" OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 181 Journey homeward. The direct road from Pittsburg to Steubenville is through a highly cultivated, undulating, limestone country ; and bearing, as limestone countries are apt to do, a most beautifully varied forest. I was not aware that that portion of Pennsylvania is so charming. The same kind of country continues, only more broken and less cultivated, between Steubenville and Coshocton, a distance of fifty miles. In the latter tract, however, the hilly monotony is agreeably interrupted by the broad and fertile vales of the Tuscarawas and White Woman, which together form the Muskingum. In prosecuting my way to Mount Vernon, in a due westerly direction, I had to cross those streams some eight or ten times, by broad, deep, and rapid fords; yet not difficult, by reason of their firm gra- velly bottoms and^uniformity of depth. But woe to the traveler that is caught among them in a time of freshets. My first acquaintance with western mud-holes. Hitherto I had suffered much in my journey from drought, and its concomitant, dust; but now came on the rain, rain, rain; and it kept at it until I began to apprehend a second edition of Noah's flood. For full three weeks did the rain pour almost unceasingly down. Meantime I was safely harbored at Columbus, the State capitol. I was lodging at the stage hotel, and I noticed that not only did the coaches come in bespattered to the very roof; but the passengers, also, appeared as if they had been undergoing christian baptism in a way-side ditch, or some such thing. They, many of them, forewarned me of the difficulty I should find in getting to Cincinnati in a light vehicle; but for my part, I could not conceive of a state of roads in which a large horse, as mine was, could find it difficult to draw a gmall man in a light buggy. So I set it all down for what an Englishman would call gammon. Well, at the time appointed I left Columbus for my home in Cincinnati; for six miles of the way the road was McAdamised. As 1 bowled over it I thought what a wicked thing slander is; and how prone man is to indulge in that heinous offence ! " Now here, for instance, is a road fit for the state-carriage of an emperor to roll on; firm, smooth, delightful; yet people are to be found who are wicked enough to call it muddy! Such folks ought — but stop — what's all this? Well, as I live, if somebody has'nt been digging a great hole right in the public road, and have put nothing up to guard the traveler from driving 182 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS into it! Woa, there! woa Jack! Why the brute is stuck fast! Up now! up fellow!" But there was no getting up for poor Jack; and I had to jump out, up to my knees in the puddle, and hold his head up to prevent him from being strangled. My next resource was to hallo for help, and well was it for me that a tavern was in sight, for otherwise I should assuredly have lost my horse. As it was, it took two strong men to get him up, and my carriage was stuck so fast that it could only be drawn out backwards by hitch- ing oxen to the hindmost axletree. So much for my first experience of western mud-holes; and to pick a way home- ward amongst them I found to be a task that brought all my small skill as a driver into requisition. I have had occasion to know, since then, that holes can exist in west- ern roads big enough to engulph horse, buggy and driver, without any body''s being put to the trouble of digging them. On my return to Cincinnati, I found that discords and misunderstandings had arisen in the society, wherj, at the time of my leaving, all had been unity and concord. How this turn in affairs was brought about it were a long task to tell, and withal, not a very agreeable one. But, oh me! I had anguish of heart in those days. One may learn much in the school of suffering, how- ever, if he is but an apt scholar; and I, much as I had aforetime suffered, yet needed much experimental teach- ing to make me practically wise. Well, I learned during that ordeal, that the world will sooner forgive anything in a man than the crime of poverty. That, though that pov- erty shall have been induced by a self-sacrificing devotion to the public good; though it shall be associated with an honest disdain of all that is mean and unmanly in ihe policy of money-getting; though it shall not have bowed the soul to the servility of cringing for pecuniary favors; still, in the worWs common-place book, a mark of discredit is af- fixed to the name of a man, who, having had opportunities of acquiring wealth, no matter how, has failed to use them to that first and greatest of human ends. I had sold my horse to pay for the supply of my desk in my absence. The hundred dollars in money with v/hich I had left Pennsylvania, were gone. I had even parted with my books to enable me to pay my current family ex- penses; and the birth of a second child occuring at that juncture, our straitened circumstances bore with severe OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER 183 pressure upon us. Our chaise, somewhat the worse for wear, was left us, and that was all that was left. I had resigned the pastoral care of the society; for, with the church-property to pay for, they were utterly unable to pay my salary; and 1 was as utterly unable to subsist without it. CHAPTER IX. His prospects begin to brighten — Visits Yankee Town, has a nar- row escape from death, there — Sets out on a journey in Ken- tucky, Tennessee, Mississippi, and Alabama. In August of that year, (1836,) occurred the meeting of the Miami Association, at Amelia, twenty-two miles from Cincinnati. During the day the preaching was done in the woods, and at night in the Union Meeting House, The assemblage present was large, perhaps numbering two thousand persons. Many were present from distances of fifty or sixty miles, and many, also, who were zealous and strong men in our Israel. There were Jacob Felter, now in Heaven; Benjamin Baldwin, C. S. W ebber, now actively engaged in the ministry; John Mitchell, Dr. Dalton, and others, with whom my acquaintance then commenced, and with whom it has continued, with in- creasing strength, to the present time. From the time of that meeting the clouds began to clear away from my sky, and sunshine once more to brighten the landscape of my prospects ; the numerous country acquaintances I formed, gave rise to calls for my professional services from various quarters, which to com- ply with, in addition to my editorial engagements, kept me busy enough. It was my fault that I was prone to overstrain in exertions to do all that I deemed needful to be done; and to most violent shocks have I thus subject- ed my frail earthly tabernacle, from which it is a mercy that it ever recovered — if, indeed, it really has so. Once, for example, having an appointment for a Saturday eve- ning, and Sunday, at Yankee Town, about thirty-six miles north of Cincinnati, and being without a horse, or means to hire one, I sat off on foot as far as Mount Pleasant, nine miles, with the purpose of borrowing a horse there, of 184 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS my friend Robert Carey, with which to perform the resi- due of the journey. I had only reached home from an excursion in another direction, about nine o'clock the evening before, and had kept up all night to avoid over- sleeping, as I found that, to accomplish the day's work in time, I must set out as early as three in the morning. The walk to Mount Pleasant, over the then rough ( it is now McAdamised,) and hard-frozen road, exhausted me so much, that when I reached Mr. Carey's, 1 was under the necessity of lying down for an hour or two; and to make up for the time thus lost, I had to ride from thence at a brisk trot. The wind blew directly in my face the whole day, and towards evening it brought a snow with it which almost blinded me. When I alighted at Yankee Town, 1 could scarcely stand, my jaws went together from mere nervous excitement, as if i had had a violent ague; I spit blood, and had a copious hemorrhage of the bowels. Never- theless I preached that night to a large audience, which was greatly increased on the morrow — for as our faith had never before been proclaimed there, persons of vari- ous faiths turned out from curiosity. On Sunday eve- ning they did the same again; but, by then, I had com- pletely lost my voice, which had been failing from the first. I had notified them in the morning that I was doubt- ful whether I should be able to preach in the evening, and for that reason I considerably lengthened my morning sermon. Nevertheless when they found that my fears as to my voice were realized, there were many who reported that the Lord had struck me dumb in answer to prayer! As if the Almighty could employ himself no better than in making an insignificant little preacher hoarse, at the in- stance of some silly saints in Yankee Town! On that same Sunday night I run an exceedingly nar- row chance of being killed by the kindness of a friend. I lodged with a Mr. M. When he conducted me to my chamber, which was little more than large enough to con- tain a bed, and was without a fire-place, I inquired of him from whence the carbonic acid gas which I smelt pro- ceeded. He did not even know what such gas was. " Per- haps," said he, " you smell the charcoal at the other side of your bed. We thought, as you were unwell, it would be better to warm your room a little." "My dear sir!" I exclaimed, " is it possible that you have not learned of the dangerons nature of the gas that escapes from burn- OF A UNIVERSALIST PREACHER. 185' ing charcoal ? Why — had I gone to bed with-out detecting its presence in the room, in less than an hour, in my pre- sent susceptible state, I should have been a corpse!" Mr. M., however, was wholly uninformed in relation to that matter, notwithstanding the many newspaper cautions which have been given about it, and the many recorded cases of death produced by that means. I returned from Yankee Town to Mount Pleasant, where, at the hospitable dwelling of Peter Laberteau, 1 always could be assured of finding a resting-place, to which the weary preacher was ever welcome. I had appointed to preach there on my return, and I did so, in whispers, as best I could. Of Mr. Carey I bought the horse I had borrov/ed, on the condition that on my return in the spring from the South, which I was about to visit for the first time, I would pay him therefor in accordance with the price I should get for him in that market. Had the poor brute foreseen the hard experience to which he was destined in my keeping, he would have demurred at the change of masters, methinks. December 3, 1836. I mounted my horse for my southern journey in tolerable spirits, although suffering under a severe cold, with hoarseness. I had an appoint- ment for the same evening, at Patriot, Indiana. Distance through Kentucky about thirty miles. Was surprised to nnd such indifferent buildings, and so few embellishments of any kind on the Cincinnati and Lexington turnpike. 1 had expected to find it studded with elegant seats; certainly no extravagant expectation in regard to a stage route between two such towns; and especially on that part of the route lying adjacent to the former city and the Ohio river; for, leaving Cincinnati out of the question, the two towns of Newport and Covington, the latter quite a manufacturing place — would warrant the expectation of finding some highly improved seats amongst the neighbor ing hills; and on the Ohio side such would not fail to be the case. Found our Patriot friends in good cheer : the cause amongst them going forward : of the ^e\Y Methodists left, three are applicants for letters of dismissal, with a view to unite with the Universalist society. Found myself rather awkwardly situated while standing before the con- gregation, without the ability to raise my voice above a whisper, and knowing too that the people had come to- 13 186 EXPERIENCE, LABORS, AND TRAVELS gether with high expectations. Put it to vote whether preaching should be dispensed with — not a single voice in the affirmative; I therefore croaked out a sermon as best I could. Stayed in Patriot three days, preaching four dis- courses in the time, and visiting several friends, amongst them Mrs. McH. — not yet lopped off from the Meth- odist church — who was confined to her bed by a sudden attack of disease, which had brought her very near to the grave, in which crisis she had sent for some Methodist neighbors, that they might witness her willingness to die in her newly adopted faith, that Christ is a universal Savior. 'Twas a right feeling which led the poet to ex- claim — " Oh that the world might taste and see, The riclies of his grace: The arms of love which compass me, Would all mankind embrace.'" Dec. 7. Left Patriot, for Jacksonville, Indiana; dis- tant sixteen miles, inland. The intervening country is pleasant, gently rolling, and well cultivated. An appoint- ment was soon circulated for a meeting that evening, which was well attended. Dec. 8. Rode to Madison, twenty-four miles : arrived there between three and four o'clock ; called on the agent for the Sentinel, Mr. Watlington, by whose active co-ope- ration I was enabled to get up a meeting in the Court- House that evening, a bell-man having been employed to cry the appointment through the town. Madison is a brisk and rapidly growing place, handsomely situated on the river : present population four thousand. Lectured there two evenings, to pretty good congregations; nothing short of a good degree of anxiety to hear the gospel would have induced those to attend who composed my audience on that evening. I have hopes of Madison, ardent hopes; it is a moral and religious place ; and in such a place I can operate with pleasure and hope; but save me from places which are characterized by an infidel indifference to all religion! Too many such on these wes- tern, waters. I believe I entered every store and shop in Madison, soliciting subscriptions for the Sentinel : it wou d amuse the reader were I to report many of the ans wers I obtained. •' Where is it published ? '" inquired one- " At Cincinnati," I replied, "Thank God it is so OF A T7NIVERSALIST PREACHER. 187 far off," he rejoined. " Subscribe to a Universalist pa- perl" exclaimed a second : " I would subscribe to have it it burnt." "The deuce!" rather angrily responded another — " Think I'll support a paper that I know to be lies from eend to eend." etc., etc. Dec. 14, No farther yet than Louisville! Preached ■on my way here from Madison, at Lexington, Indiana, to a small audience, convened on very short notice. The inn-keeper with whom I stayed, a Mr. English, generously refused the pay for my entertainment. Traveled next